#but like. all of these rappers’ music knows what it is. and i can never tell if doom is trying to be deep or shallow or comment on somethin

[saul-goodboy]

i just…i really don’t like mf doom

[hoseoksluna]

A CELEBRATION OF 2K FOLLOWERS — PLEASANT, GOOD AND MERCIFUL | jjk

pairing: non-idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader 

genre: smut, angst, fluff — the whole package

word count: 8.9k

summary: jungkook wanted to make the night better for you—but what he didn't expect is that he would come across his true, unabashed self while doing so.

taglist: join | cp: wattpad, ao3

warnings: jungkook, physical violence, jungkook is wearing that mesh top and that exact outfit (god, help me) and he's horny (god, help me again), abandonment issues, dissociation, panic mode, fear, swear words, dom/sub dynamics, protected sex, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), deepthroat:), teasing, pda, jungkook smokes and jungkook uses his busan accent (you have been warned), religion, praying, anxiety, hyper-independence, trust issues, begging, a little bit of a praise kink — barely, cowgirl:).

note: because we hit 2k incredible followers, i prepared this for you, my babies. a full fucking package of drama, smut, angst and fluff—all from jungkook's own pov!!!!! this is all for you bc i love you sm. thank you, guys, so much for being here with me, sticking around and reading my stupid fics. enjoy this one shot and let me know what you think. i'm sending you so many kisses until you get sick of me. seriously. i won't stop. i love you. MWAHMWAHMWAHMWAHMHWA.

It is a lucid dream, really, the way the lustrous colors of the fireworks bloom across the charcoal sky. They intertwine with the darkened clouds, like vines of wild flowers, that try and fail to remain hidden and Jungkook thinks you burst with even richer, emotive colors. 

With your kaleidoscopic glitter on the high points of your cheeks, and the tiny stars that you stuck on each arch of your brow. 

He can feel the vibration of the deep bass, belonging to the music, coursing down your chest as he stands behind you, drifting his hands down the upper half of your body while the rest of the strangers are hypnotized by the rapper on stage that he has very little knowledge of. The reason why he paid for the tickets, pumped a full tank of gas, drove you all the way to the countryside outside of the normality of your daily life and never let go of your hand—despite the fact they grew uncomfortably clammy due to the stifling heat—was because you loved the man. The vulgar headliner, whose lyrics nearly made his eyes fall out of his sockets once he fully and consciously listened to the songs that you always sing when you do your makeup or hum at random times when you’re doing your own thing. 

And what’s worse, it made his dick hard when he heard you scream out the swear words and the filthy imagery painted in the vivaciousness of the songs.

You, who scarcely cursed. 

Who omitted the vulgarity when rapping along. 

He doesn’t think he ever caught those words coming out of your mouth. Not even when he was balls-deep in you. 

Multiple times. 

It had only been four months ago when he found you and his long silent heart gained your voice. It was the sweetest, most languid sound that ever graced his ears and in an instant, you became a fleshly sanctuary of serenity. One he would find himself needing more often than he liked because the truth is—Jungkook doesn’t date. 

He considers relationships an unnecessary house of pain. If he spends a long time there, he forgets what the outside world looks like. Forgets how to get home. Forgets the roads and the rules and moralities of life and society because, deep down, he lets go of himself for the girl. 

He would kill a soul if she found herself needing it. Or at least destroy one so she would have a peace of mind. 

Break hands and break noses of people who looked at her wrong. 

That’s who he is and as much as he tried to change it, he failed every time. Failed like the clouds up above. His effort to stay hidden from you vanished into thin air because you would invariably find him and his heart would start praying with your voice. The pathetic thing would beg for mercy from the world. His knees would wobble and he’d let them sink right in front of you—all because of your deeply inert calmness and briskness that would, strangely, pour the nectar of mollification over his bloodstream. 

And he gave in to you because you didn’t ask, nor expect, anything from him. 

You didn’t do what the others did. 

You were independent and so full of life, of a different world, one he wanted to take a peek inside. 

And what he didn’t predict was that the road would be molded for his feet. And once he kissed you and learned the ins and outs of your intellect and the chambers of your heart, he still remembered the streets that line the outside world—its names, even. He remembered the address of his own apartment building, the number to his door and to the pass code. 

And so did you. 

You didn’t ask him to kill for you. And you didn’t ask him for tickets to see your favorite artists. 

He did it because he unreservedly loved you. 

And here you are, giggling, rubbing your little ass up against his groin and he detects happiness prickling his nerve endings. His hands are enveloped, snugly, as if no one was around and the artists traveled across the country for you, around your waist while your hands are up in the air, pointed fingers erect, dipping up and down to the rhythm of the music. 

And what he could never predict, not even in a million years—he’s enjoying himself. Feels the traces of the same vibrations ricocheting off your back into his chest, where the song enlivens him. 

He’s enjoying himself because you are enjoying yourself, brimming with elation and the radiance of your smile as you laugh, dance and scream out curse words that he’s equally enjoying hearing. 

Jungkook makes a mental note to pull those sounds out of you later in the early hours. 

And then you turn around, surprising him. You cup the side of his neck while you point that index finger in his face, screaming out the lyrics. And Jungkook regards it so overwhelming that he can only stare. Doesn’t know the lyrics to scream them back at you and make your experience better, but he’s learning them as he’s consuming them from you, his eyes tracing over each movement of your mouth that engraves them in his brain. He feels your hips moving under his palm at the bottom of your spine and when you roll your body forward, colliding into his like a star that meets its lover once only to never see it again, and brush your lips against his—he’s so horny and so in love with you that his eyes wet, his emotions rushing in and clouding his sight. 

The background fades out, fully, into the charcoal of the night, the colored lights softening and it’s just you that is the distribution of incandescence for the people present—and for him. And then you go down, dragging your hands down his stomach and his thighs, only to spring right up, grab his hips and make that collision happen—against the laws of the universe. 

A different star. A special one. 

Out of his darkened peripheral view, he can sense the audience having a way better time than they did before you turned around to face him. But Jungkook doesn’t give a fuck. 

Not when his cock is so tight in his pants. 

Thankfully, you’re obscuring it with the shape of your delightful body. He thinks he’s going to run with you to his car, pump more adrenaline into your body, so you can refresh the drowsy grass with a pristine layer of dew through the sound of your laughter. He also wonders if you’re wet yourself underneath that gray dress of yours and just as he’s about to lean over and yell that question into your ear, you turn around and get ready for the next song. 

And catch the glance of some guy to your right as you do. Jungkook grits his jaw because you linger for a second longer that he doesn’t particularly like.

A certain fever poisons his veins, but at the same time he feels the pinpricks of a cold sweat at the top of his spine. Who the fuck does he think he is, staring at his girl like that? 

But when he follows that line of the half broken gaze, he finds the guy’s slender face scrunched up in disgust. 

Oh, Jungkook might be ready to throw some hands and get him kicked out of this place, tell the cops it was all him so you can continue enjoying yourself in his arms. He’s seen some people sticking their tongues down their partner’s throat and he’s giving you a dirty look for dancing? 

This can easily be his very last night alive. 

Instinctively, Jungkook bunches up his fists and he’s ready to go after him, but you scream out and emit out your excitement, taking a deep breath to go absolutely mad as the rapper begins to perform the song that he’s heard you jamming out to the most. You take his hands, beaming at him from behind, and uncurl them on your tummy. Your glance was too brief and there’s still a furrow to his brows and now he worries you think he’s being a buzzkill. He doesn’t want to ruin the night for you, so he draws in closer to the crook of your neck and begins to dance, softly, with you. Your hands intertwine with his and you bang them in the air, jumping up and down at the bridge of the song that the headliner hypes up. 

And then you’re singing in a different language and he’s done for, his heart tightening in his chest. The one he’s heard your mother talk in over the phone while you replied in English. Jungkook squeezes you so hard and you let him, your smile growing. Your voice is more throatier and low-pitched and Jungkook senses your foreignness swathing his cock and he knows there’s a bigger tent in his pants. He presses it against you, makes you feel it and you throw your delicious ass. 

His eyes nearly go cross-eyed as he rolls them back, tilting his head. The wind sweeps across the sweat of his exposed forehead, sifting through his hair and he can’t wait any longer. Desire has overpowered the poison in his veins in such a mighty way and he begins to stand in the middle of a crossroad. 

Wait forty five minutes until the rapper finishes the show and then get stuck in the crowd as everyone tries to leave at once. 

Or wait two more minutes and then bolt to the car to fuck your brains out. There’s a higher chance you and him won’t be caught sinning in the backseat. It’s midnight and the villagers are asleep. And in the forty minutes, while everyone enjoys the last show, he can make you come so many times and ascertain that your experience will be heightened and ultimately better. 

He’s also sure you’ll be able to hear him—if he leaves the window open a little bit. 

He’s ready to turn you around, the decision throbbing in his sternum, but you make the move first. Swiveling on your feet, your body faces him, though your head doesn’t. Once again, he follows your gaze. You scowl at the guy, your brows knitting and your glossy mouth rounding before moving into the shape of the lyrics. You throw a dirty look his way one last time and Jungkook laughs in pride, his heart constricting in the love he bears for you, and he pulls you in, disposed to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck and open your mouth just as he kisses you—and it’s you who darts out their tongue, rolling it against his. Jungkook squeezes your bum, slapping it gently—and it’s simultaneous the way you and him both peek at the guy’s reaction. 

The fucker is grinning. 

You give him a vulgar gesture, the moonless blue light enveloping around your middle finger. 

Jungkook laughs so hard that heads turn in his direction and he’s fucking delighted. You devour it with your mouth, sucking his lips so intensely that he stops breathing. He senses you sealing it in him and he can’t wait any longer. 

He needs you and he tells you. 

Breaking the lip lock, he peppers kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear, wafting his hot breath there. He feels the gooseflesh on your arm right upon his ear, too, and electricity courses down his stomach. Fuck, he loves it so much. Thinks you’re so incredible and he wants to fuck that fact into your guts. 

“Let’s get out of here. I want you,” he rasps, drifting his hand up your bum to the ends of your hair, bunching them in his fist. “I want to give you this dick. You deserve it.” 

You suck in a harsh breath and withdraw to look at him. He bites his lip at the way his words painted a palette of such flushed beauty on your face, using colors this festival has never fucking seen. And his mouth ends rise in a prideful smile, not for his ability, but for your body. For the way it’s able to react to him so wonderfully. 

And he blushes when you begin to mouth the lyrics again while dipping to the seat of the amphitheater and sliding his blazer over his shoulders. 

He knows why you did that. 

And you validate his knowledge when you take his hand and lead him away from the concert, keeping close to him just to be cautious. 

You did it to camouflage the evidence of his arousal for you. 

And when you walk by the guy, you let go of his hand. Throw both middle fingers in his face. “You wish you had someone to leave with, huh?” 

The fucker puts his dirty hand on you, stopping you from walking away, and Jungkook doesn’t fucking hesitate. Like a bolt of lightning, he grabs his collar and fumes in his face. 

“What makes you fucking think you can touch my girl, huh? Juk go sip na?” he snarls, shaking him, his Busan dialect impulsively spilling out, darkening his voice and the latter question—‘Do you want to die?’ He watches a tendril of challenge line his eyes with murkiness and what happens next is too fast. 

Too fast for his liking. 

Knuckles collide with his cheek and at the rapid, unexpected and jarring contact, his lip ring cuts his gums. Jungkook grunts at the twinge that overpowers the throbbing on the side of his face, metal percolating through the aftertaste in his mouth, but he doesn’t let go of the guy’s shirt. In fact, he tightens his hold. Seethes. Is about to push him off and leave before things get even uglier, but then he feels your hands on his back and his heart stops, your voice mute, despite the fact your whole face twists in fear and is smeared with harrowing emotions that he’s never seen on you. Shrinks at the sight of your wet, bulging eyes. Of one singular tear grazing your lower lashes in a caress before plopping onto the wildflower meadow of the glitter on your cheek. 

“Get back,” he tells you, despite the swelling of his own emotions at your state of mind. But you don’t comply in time, unclench your fist and step back because far too soon, in the middle of the distraction, another collision bursts in this impenetrable darkness. 

Falling into you or falling for you even deeper, he can’t tell the difference within the numbing pain and his temper coaxes his exceedingly too easy tears to blur his vision. You don’t topple back on your hands, for Jungkook catches you in time with a strength that you somehow help him remember that he possesses. From the force of the guy’s jab, he was only pushed into you, but it doesn’t diminish the grave mistake he made. 

One he will pay for. 

Straightening you, Jungkook guides you towards the edge of the amphitheater and you step back, at last, startled. Turning around, he swings his fist into the guy’s face and he whimpers like a little bitch. 

One hit for your dignity. 

A second one for your tears. 

And the guy would’ve received a third and a fourth one had he not been held back by different pairs of arms all of a sudden. But he shakes them off. Pushes the guy back to his seat. He lands awkwardly on his tailbone with a hard thud and moans in pain. Suits him right for thinking he’s allowed to touch you, make you cry and remain unharmed. 

Jungkook shakes his head, his chest rising with heavy breaths and numbing, adrenaline-infused fury. “Sit here and keep your fucking hands to yourself, gaesaekki. Who the fuck do you think you are, making my girl cry by hitting me?” 

The music cuts out and the rapper hollers. Jungkook turns around and finds all of the attention of the audience and the headliner on him. Doesn’t want to put you on the spot like that, so he rolls his eyes in annoyance, finds your rounded ones and tips his chin further towards the exit, signaling to you to walk that way, so no one gets to look at you. You’re still standing by the edge of the amphitheater with your tear-stained cheeks and his heart aches, though once he sees that you’re covered by the shadows, he lifts a palm towards the stage and strides off, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you towards the grassy hill. 

People are fucking testing him and he’s not in the mood. Not in the slightest. 

He’d go with his original plan—take your hand and run with you to his car, but he needs to cool off. His anger is sapping all the delight he gained from your microcosm of joy and he doesn’t want to ruin the night more than he already has. Jungkook curls an arm around your neck, tugging you flush to his side as you strut together with no one around. Lifts your chin so he can inspect how you’re feeling on your face. 

Your cheeks are glimmering, damply, carmine in the yellow light, accompanied by the faint burn of the stars up above, but your eyes have lost their great spark and you’re no longer beaming. They trace over his deadened cheek and mouth and you whimper, stopping dead in your tracks and burying your face in his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, a hand stroking his back—and Jungkook feels himself drifting to a state of coma. The rapper’s lines decline the harder you nuzzle your face in his mesh-clad pecs and he can’t move his own hands, can’t hug you back, his panic cascading down his sternum, which he senses your warm weight upon. A ringing noise fills his ears, but he can’t wilt. He has to put you first and make things right. 

But his body doesn’t listen. 

He wills strength into his muscles, lifting his head towards the unmerciful heavens and letting your voice sound out his prayer. You evidently need physical support and emotional reassurement and he can’t give that to you out of his own weakened will. Not when he needs it so despairingly and eminently because he’s hollowed out on the inside. Not when he can’t hear a damn thing owing to the ringing in his ears. 

He can’t ask you for help, so he lets you pray through his heart to his father’s God. 

But nothing happens.

Radio silence. 

White noise. 

A feeble, miniature whine loosens from him. He’s not sure if you heard it and he hopes you didn’t, and for that sole reason—he does the unthinkable. 

He begins to pray with his own voice. 

Because there’s nothing else to do. 

Give me strength. To be there for her and not mess this up more than I already have. Fix me for her and help me make this night better for her. 

The tiniest of lights against your face unbolts ajar in him, vines of the flowers of mitigation blooming from that sliver of open space—right into his arms that abruptly lift and wrap around your shoulders, pulling you as close as humanly possible. 

The ringing lessens. 

And then his lips move. 

He kisses your forehead, dwelling there for a moment, basking in the fact that his prayer worked, and mentally, he ejects the trepidation and agitation away and out of his system, though the fear loiters in his ribcage. The fear that the mistake he made is unfixable. And there’s no thrumming of the bass to distract it. 

What’s worse, his lower regions still ask for a release. He might not be as hard as he was, but the pressure of an ungratified arousal still palpitates in his groin. The unlit disorder of his feelings encourages the blood to pump his cock erect, slowly, and his breath quivers—as well as his body. 

The shakes are back. He knows them, intimately, from his past relationships. Feels the long-gone ghost of abandonment catching up to him—and he fears, terribly, that you’ve somehow learned its ways and you’re about to use them on him because of the way he ruined your night. Cover him from head to toe until his mind numbs and he forgets, foolishly, the direction to his home. 

To solitude. 

He lets go of you and nudges you towards his car. Lets you walk the rest of the short way. But he notices that your forehead, the place he poured his frail love upon, is smudged with blots of blood, the little stars on the arches of your brows crooked and devalued. He’s barely able to get out a cigarette out of his pack and place it in the center of his parted lips, his heart cracking and turning painfully. Though, somehow he does it—he gnites it to life, takes a big drag and hides his hands behind his back. Hides his shakes away from you. Because it’s easier to ruin yourself than it is to give. 

You don’t know about them. And in the four months he’s been dating you, he didn’t have a reason to tell you about them. Thought they were lost for all eternity, the tables turned—them forgetting about him. 

But now he realizes how naive he was. Begs his shoulder to stop trembling from the impact of his deeply-embossed issues. Wishes they were as beautiful as you when you gaze back at him with the weight of your love and he feels it, swiveling to lean against the side of his car. 

It’s a life jacket that straps him down. Abates his shakes. And he’s able to take another drag, pursing his lips in a small ‘O’ when he exhales the smoke, so it doesn’t get near you. 

Your hands are behind your back, too. They support your tailbone against the solidness of the vehicle. It reminds him that he’s glad he hurt the guy, but now he wishes that you weren’t such a delicious brat because he could’ve made you happier and pinker with the amount of orgasms he would’ve given you. Would’ve driven you home and washed you clean. Would’ve made you a late night snack to bed and held you while you replayed the songs in your head. 

Nevertheless, it’s him who needs to be held. 

Foolish, his sensitivity. Another thing you don’t know about. And he’s not too sure, at this very moment, if he’s able to let you in this closely. Let you hold him and stop, ultimately, his shakes. The fear of possibly letting that happen, only to get left behind after, paralyzes him on the spot and even though he can’t breathe, he still manages to flick the ash off his cigarette and puff on it, desperately. Needs the smoke to hold him down, mollify the raging disorder in him—the macrocosm that is too gritty and stony for your delicate feet. 

He allows a full, audible sigh to leave him and he hangs his head, but he shouldn’t have done that. 

Because he divulged to you how fucked up he is. 

You lift a hand to him. “Come here, Oppa.” 

But he can’t. He can’t get close. His legs are numb and the thick-soled boots his feet are shod in are too heavy. His fear keeps them planted that safe distance apart. And Jungkook plays it cool. Licks his lips, lifts his head and sucks on his cigarette. Feels something dripping down his jaw and he wipes his hand on the bone. His cheeks hollow out and the smoke gets in his eyes, stinging them, blurring the spots of blood on his fingers

A different type of wetness coats them now. 

“You wanna go home?” he asks, then cringes at his stupid words. The smoke makes zig zag patterns in the air as his hands shake harder. And then the breath he takes is too difficult. His chin wobbles, the tears rush in and he can’t stop it. “They’re still—” A soft sigh, a whimper. His breathing speeds up because it seems as though his lungs ask for too much air and he can’t inhale enough of it. The tears threaten to pour out and crown his fear. Ruin his life. But he keeps going as if nothing is happening. “Making hot dogs in that food stand over there. The night’s not over.”

And then he’s sobbing, sinking to his knees as his legs give out under all that weight of his issues compressing him. The cigarette burns on the concrete, as abandoned as he soon will be. And his hands feel the rough material of his jeans, needing something to bring him back to a painless reality. He’s tasting blood and the fumes of the smoke and then he sees your sneakers in front of his knees, the pink Calvin Klein shoes that he bought you last week, and he sits back, feels his head being lifted, feels himself being pushed to a point of absolute submission. 

And that’s not something he’s able to stop either. 

You sit down on his thighs, sinking your fingers behind his ears and into his hair, forcing him to look at you and he has to blink multiple times in order for his sight to clear up. Sees, while he whimpers pathetically, his bloodstained, fearful girl seeing him. The real him. The flawed, broken him. 

“Gguk, Ggukie, what’s happening? Talk to me, baby, please.” 

He only sobs. Can’t get a word out. Because you’re here and you’re going to leave him—now that you’ve seen that he’s not a half of the man you pertain him to be. That he’s weak, pathetic and emotional. That he has problems that he doesn’t like to talk about. Unresolved issues that will affect you and guide you out of his life. 

You press him to your neck, holding him to you, and you shush him, gently, rocking him from side to side. Run your wet hand up his hair on the back of his head while the other one rubs large circles on his back. The light opens wider in him—and as he listens to the lullaby of your voice, it distracts him from the fear. It stills the ringing in his ears and blesses his arms with strength that he uses, without thinking, to wrap around you. 

Something lukewarm plops onto the side of his aching cheek as he, little by little, calms down, and he realizes it’s your precious tears. The salt to his wound. 

You’ve cried too much when you should’ve been laughing so hard that you’d be sick from it. 

“What happened? Tell me.” 

Your hand caresses his bad cheek, careful around the bump that your feather-light touch traces, and it’s how he finds out it’s even there. He finds out his bleeding is from his mouth because you wipe at it and clean your fingers on your dress. And then you’re back to stroking his hair, your long fingernails scratching, tenderly, his scalp, spreading alleviation down his body. 

You’re patient and gentle, tolerant and kind, despite the fact you deserve an explanation and he’s unable to give it to you. 

It’s what makes his rationality snap back to normalcy and he tugs your dress down, withdrawing from you and helping you stand to your feet. He’s here to make your night better, not unleash his problems at you. He takes your purse dangling from your hand, replacing it with his palm, and hauls you towards his car. 

But you stay put and he bounces back to you as if he were on a leash. 

And maybe he is—because you stayed at the horrendous scene of his worst. Bound to you in a way that he’s too drowsy to comprehend. Even his fear is tired, scurrying away to some shadowed corner of his soul, instead of attacking him and remaking the scene. 

“Give me my purse back and let me buy you that hot dog,” you say, with a hint of a remarkable harshness that makes him submit to you on a higher level. Something positive that he can’t pinpoint breezes through his clavicles and he wipes his knuckles across his eyes, shyness encasing him like steel—like a shield, giving him the hope that maybe, just maybe, he can overcome this with you. 

You didn’t leave. You didn’t disappear. You didn’t wrinkle your nose. 

You held him. Cleaned the blood off his mouth. Put him, somehow, back together like a puzzle piece. Knew how to do it without needing to look at the full picture. 

He hands you the chain strap of your purse—and it’s more of a symbol of his submission to you. Of the acquiescence and the meekness that you seeped into his pores by your touch. And, oddly, he feels whole. 

His walls are broken down, but he feels whole. Confident, soft, and manly. 

Because he has you and you’re here to take care of him. 

You’re quick on your feet as you yank him by the two of his fingers. He follows behind you, but all he can look at is your pendulous, brown, leather purse, suspended from your small hand, and how that shift of the dynamic in yours and his relationship occurred by that exchange. How it’s felicitous, pretty and sturdy. How he can come back to it and remember it—if he ever wavers. Remember that it’s the cure to his shakes. 

Letting himself be taken care of by you. 

The festival has ended and the ladies at the food stand are packing up to leave. It overwhelms him how much time his issues have stolen, but when he watches you go from nice to bratty in a millisecond, convincing them to make that last hot dog from him because he feels faint and needs some greasy food in order to get home and they comply, his love for you rises sky-high. Your own expression of love for him tidies up the debris from his broken walls and he’s so warm all over that he feels as though he’ll explode. 

You pay for the hot dog and leave a huge tip, thanking them with a smile that makes his heart quiver in a way that is pleasant, good and merciful. You hand it to him and it’s another exchange that wets his eyes, that makes him dip to your mouth and give you a chaste kiss that you more than deserve. You coo, deeply, into the kiss, and it’s a sound that he’s never heard from you. A dominant, prideful sound that stirs the butterflies in his stomach that carry your name on their wings to beat so ferociously that he can’t breathe. 

In a different way now. Pleasant, good and merciful. 

You walk away from the stand and sit with him on the sidewalk. Jungkook lets you have the first bite, sliding your leg over his as he holds the hot dog to your mouth. People are exiting the amphitheater in hefty crowds, but he doesn’t care. Can’t peel his eyes off of you as you open your mouth as wide as you can and take a big bite, whining and fanning your mouth due to how boiling hot it is. He can see the half chewed up sausage on your tongue and if he didn’t love you, he’d look away now, but he can’t because he does love you and your secret, indecent ways enthrall him enough that he can’t help but to kiss you again. Kiss the ketchup and mustard off of your upper lip. Clean you up like you cleaned up his debris. Blow on the sausage in your mouth a little to make you laugh and you do more than that. You chortle so hard that you nearly choke on it and he laughs, too, strangely. 

Thinks the hot dog is the best one he has had in a long time solely because you had that first bite. 

It fuels him with energy, yet he feels lightweight. Feels as though everything’s going to be okay, despite the fact those issues in him are a persisting threat and they can be triggered anytime. But something tells him you can handle it. 

You weren’t afraid to throw your middle fingers in a guy’s face because he had a problem with your public display of affection. Weren’t afraid of Jungkook’s ugliness. Weren’t afraid to fight the ladies so you could fill up his stomach with his favorite food. 

You can handle it. 

It’s all he thinks about as he drives you to his apartment with his hand on your thigh. 

And it’s all he thinks about when he kneels before you while he takes off your sneakers and lingers there, scattering kisses just below the hem of your dress. And you know where this is going because you pull him back by his hair and as he looks up at you like this, a peasant to a queen, his heart hammers so intensively that all he wants to do is cry while he makes love to you. 

He came across his salvation—in the worst of it all. 

“Let me clean you up,” you hush out, and Jungkook doesn’t understand because you already have. Internally. And outwardly all the same. He can’t postpone this any longer. He has to give back to you, give you his gratitude on a silver platter. He needs to do it because if he doesn’t, he’ll crumble. 

“No,” he rasps in a whisper, closing his mouth over the inner of your thigh, placing a singular kiss there before he returns his gaze back to you. “Let me, please.” 

Maybe you can see his desperation in the glossiness of his eyes and it awakens your pity for him, for in a blink you nod, and for the second time today—he doesn’t hesitate to do the next thing. He fists the fabric of your dress and yanks it up over your tummy, nuzzling his nose into your clothed mound. Pink, like your sneakers. 

He inhales you. Inhales the beginning of your arousal—and the beginning of a brand new scene that will color his life in a soft manner. 

Dragging the waistband of your panties down your legs, he tosses them on top of your shoes. Yearns for your legs to part your royalty for him and in order for that to happen, he carries you, bridal-style, over to the white of his bedding. Pretends it’s clouds that he’s laying you down upon because he’s about to make sure he’ll bring heaven down to you. 

The heaven that helped him give back to you earlier in his worst. 

He hooks his fingers under your socks and slides them off, one by one. Makes you sit up to rid you of your dress. Ruins your ponytail in the process, but he quickly fixes it by lugging your hair tie down your length, rubbing his blood away on your forehead with his saliva-coated thumb once he places you back down. 

And it’s not an expression of his dominance, the way he disburdened you from the daytime. That has long ceased to exist in him since that exchange. 

It’s an expression of his servitude to you. 

Of his lessening and your heightening. 

And it’s pleasant, good and merciful. It doesn’t feel as though he’s giving all of himself. On the contrary, it feels as though he has just discovered his true self. 

He won’t forget the address of his home because he’s not staying over anywhere. 

He is at home. 

And your folds revealing your royalty as he spreads your legs is the feeling of homeliness. His mouth on your warm, swollen clit is the epitome of all domesticity and the only thing he can fear at this very moment is his future homesickness if he rips his mouth off your cunt. 

And you getting wet so easily just from being taken care of like a queen confirms and validates all that he’s feeling. 

And he lets you know. 

Peasants are savages and he eats your pussy like it. Sucks on your clit with a verve that surprises him and makes his cock tight uncomfortably in his pants, especially when you make those deep, guttural noises of yours. You’re not the soft girl he knew that omitted swear words in her favorite filthy songs. You’re a vulgar woman, rolling her hips into his mouth as he lets you use his tongue. 

And he stops—just to beg for those words. 

“Let me hear you swear for me, please.” 

You whimper, flopping into the mattress, only to raise your torso using your elbows. You grip the hair on the back of his neck and hump his mouth, but then you suck in a breath and draw back, sobered up all of a sudden. 

“Does your lip hurt?” you ask, rounding your brows in pity and Jungkook’s heart quickens at the portrayal of your care towards him. His senses flick to that faint throbbing on the side of his pierced lip and he perceives that he forgot about his physical pain. His cheek throbs as well, but it’s all bearable. 

You help him remember. 

“It doesn’t hurt, baby.” 

But the hand that gripped his hair slides over to his lip, caressing it with a thumb. “But it’s swollen. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

He also remembers that he was bleeding from the same place and he checks your folds if he spattered them. With the same digit, he runs it over them, finding no taints of it. Sends a quick, internal thank you to God. 

You’re pure—he doesn’t want to mar you. 

“You’re not hurting me. You’re saving me,” he utters without a breath, the words more raw than anything he’s ever said to you, alongside his first, secretly sensitive I love you. And while he doesn’t let his lungs lift, you inhale all of the air for him, wafting it over him as you pout ever so slightly. And then you caress him—the good side of his face and he does something he’s never expected to do. 

He invites you in. 

Rests his head on the apex of your thigh while you continue to brush your hand in circles. Over his cheekbone, his temple, long strands of hair and ear. An ouroboros of love so unsullied and intact that the world’s upcoming destruction could never afflict it, never even come near it. Jungkook pushes your leg back and darts out his tongue. Mirrors your circles over your clit and the gentleness he uses to do it with pull such alluring moans from the bottom of your throat that he’s nearly at the peak of his own orgasm. 

And it just makes him hungrier. 

He turns you over to your side and closes that leg of yours over his head. Flattens his tongue over your clit and eats it like his life depends on it, one hand holding yours while the other slips to your heat, rubbing the hole until you go mad. And he’s not holding your hand to keep you bound. He’s holding your hand to keep his sanity and not come in his pants like a boy. 

You move your hips so his fingers enter you and you scream out at the sudden fullness. Jungkook drips in sweat, your walls slowly stretching around him sending tingles down his spine, and he’s moaning when you fuck yourself on his digits. 

It doesn’t take long for you to come. 

It is the final piece to your own puzzle and your orgasm thunders through you, the swear words tumbling out of your mouth like refreshing raindrops. You interweave them into his name, adorning it, making it prettier, and Jungkook is so overwhelmed with pleasure that all he can do is suck on your clit until you convulse so hard that you can’t take it anymore.

You may have lost your spark earlier, but now that you’ve come so magnificently, you’ve become it. The star of light isn’t something that gets attached to your eyes whenever you’re happy anymore. 

You’re the queen of all firelights and constellations. 

He lets you lie on your side as he hauls himself up to face you. He touches your skin besprinkled with the beads of perspiration, kneading the fleshy parts and ending up at your neck. Your eyes are closed when he reposes his head on his pillow besides yours and he detects his pleasure creating a new kind of joy within him, one that etches a lopsided smile on his face. 

You said the words for him while your orgasm coursed through your body. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Thank you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you with a certain roughness that makes you whine and withdraw. You give him a playful dirty look, fragrant with your love, and Jungkook’s smile deepens. 

“Gentle,” you reprimand, fluttering your eyes back shut. “Don’t be a masochist.” 

He laughs through his nose, his heart constricting, and he kisses you with the gentleness you spoke of just to show you he can do it. 

You hum in appreciation and Jungkook thinks this must be the best day of his life, despite all. 

“There we go,” you praise, sleepily. “Gentle, so your boo-boo doesn’t hurt.” 

He caresses your face in circles in your fashion, watches you visibly relax and your eyes close all the way, your eyelashes brushing against him. His sleep-kissed queen. 

“You wanna sleep?” he asks, fondling the shell of your ear. He doesn’t mind if you’re too tired to take him; he’s willing to study the way your mouth parts and lets out long, restful breaths as you drift off to dreamland. 

He thinks it would be an honor. 

Everything had changed. The way he sees you, the way he loves you, the way he senses yours and his connection. The pupils of his eyes have been purified and he’s acknowledging himself with the ins and outs of his own relationship. 

Everything is new. 

You shake your head, humming out a sound of disagreement. “No, give me a second. You made me come really hard.” 

He nods, even though you can’t see him, and he sifts his fingers through your hair. Trails his kisses from your cheek to your neck and shoulder, dwelling there as you recuperate from your intense orgasm.

And then you’re swinging your leg over and straddling him. Your lids are so heavy from your little eye-shut that he silently coos at you, but your tiredness doesn’t stop you from mouthing kisses down his mesh-clad chest. From unbuckling his belt and freeing him from his pants. The mesh shirt is the only thing you keep on him. You bunch up its hem in your fist, stabilize his cock with your other and you swallow him. 

Not all the way, though. 

You rid him of his sanity because you pop your mouth, over and over, on the tip of his manhood. He feels the sound deep in his groin, right beneath your hand, and his chest can’t help but to shudder with each suction, his face scrunching. He unabashedly whimpers for you and you like his noises so much that you give him what he never asked you for. 

You do take him all the way. 

And your throat is your scent floating through the air of yours and his home. 

Heady, oriental and feminine. 

You slobber all over him, running your tongue sideways upon the veins along his length and Jungkook slinks in and out of his conscience. The pleasure you’re blessing him with brings him to a rose garden when you gag around him. The pink petals tickle his stomach, encouraging his shudders, and all he sees is you in the middle of that garden. A mighty statue of its queen—with a mouthful of cock. 

And then he has to physically pull you away from him because if he felt the tightness of your throat one more time, he’d be spurting ropes of cum down your esophagus. 

You’re feral, staring him down with a maddened smile, returning to your original position on his hips. And as delighted as he is to have you be in charge, he remembers something. 

He hasn’t put a condom on. 

“Wait.” 

Jungkook holds your waist as he rummages in his bedside table and once he finds the package he was looking for and rattles it, he finds it empty. Cold sweat trickles down the back of his neck, but he remembers something else as well. 

“Did you not put it in your purse?” he asks, the scene where he hands you the last square of the rubber for you to keep in your purse in case you get in the mood during the festival shooting out before his eyes. 

You nod. “Yeah, I think so. Can you go get it?” 

He sits up with you and kisses you, gently, prolonging the kiss until you whine and he thinks twice before provoking you. He can’t help it—you just keep saving him. 

Walking through your corridor, he sees your pink sneakers first, embellished with your panties of the same color. A smile tugs at the aching corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t mind. Thinks it heightens the experience. Bending to pick up your brown purse that he set beside your shoes, the time seems to slow down as he’s reminded of the exchange out there in the countryside. The shift of dynamics that liberated him. Jungkook grows emotional, his feelings liquifying and prickling his eyes. 

And it’s automatic and absolutely instinctual—the way he dips his mouth and kisses the leather material. 

Gently. 

Opening it, he fishes out the white square and hangs your purse on the hook among his jackets. Gives it a long, meaningful look before he returns to you. 

And you’re the one who wants to put it on him. You’re so diligent, tugging the peak of the rubber multiple times so you’re unequivocally certain that you did it right. And when you tug him, he whimpers so inferiorly that you emulate his hunger. 

You depict it so eloquently when you fight through your residual overstimulation and sink down on him, little by little. And the more inches your walls squeeze around, the more his new role settles within him. 

Peasant with his queen. 

You ride him like it. 

You bounce on him with such hard thuds that it provokes the pressure in his groin. His balls tighten so rapidly and the cinematic view of your breasts slapping against each other doesn’t really help slow down the incoming explosion of his orgasm. A glistening ring forms around his cock from your slick—and Jungkook genuinely considers, right here, right now, buying you a promise ring that will be an eternal reminder of this sublime salvation. 

And you’re as aware of the shift as he is because once you reposition your weight onto your feet, you pin his hands back and use them as leverage. Intertwine your fingers with his. His vision gets filled with spots of white. You clamp down on him with each stroke and even though he can’t move, he feels unshackled. There’s no ending to his moans. He’s so close, the pressure deepens in his groin, and he needs one more thing. 

One more thing and he’s done. 

“Kiss me,” he rasps, and you slow down, crying out, your orgasm catching up to you just the same, but he needs your attention, so he begs. “Please, baby. Kiss me.” 

Lowering yourself onto your knees, you lean forward. “Fuck, I love it when you beg. I’d give you anything you ever wanted.” 

His stomach spasms. Your nipples sail over his chest and you shudder, the mesh fabric stimulating you, and then you’re swirling your tongue around the arc of his open mouth. 

Teasing him, like the vulgar, bratty woman you are. 

Extra careful around the lip ring and his swollen flesh, healing it in a way. 

Jungkook whines your name. “Please.” 

You kiss him just once, but he needs more. Lifts his head off the pillow, chasing your mouth. You begin to swirl your hips in circles on the tip of his cock, just like your tongue, and the intense pleasure he gets from it forces him to bang his head back. 

You go for his neck. His collarbone. His nipple. 

And Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. 

His orgasm bursts in his groin and all the roses in the garden swell with freshness. He imagines he’s filling you up, instead of the condom and it elevates the momentous shocks of the explosion descending down all of his nerve endings. He hiccups and that’s it for you. You let go of his hands to massage your clit and you follow him out into that garden, his name and curse words trickling out of your mouth that lowers to his in a final, years-long kiss. 

His last rope oozes out of him at the feeling of your soft, wary tongue and he wants to weep due to the density of your care. More shrubs of roses bloom around your statue in that garden—and once again, he can’t peel his eyes off of you. 

Can’t stop brushing your hair back to see more of you. More of your rose-flushed complexion. More of the spark of your being that irradiates you from within. More of your care and love. 

And you give it to him. 

You wash out the dried blood on his face in the shower. Brush his teeth with extra care, which makes it more than difficult for him to stifle his tears. He lets you be a witness to his sensitivity and you welcome it, cradle it, hold him while the toothpaste foam numbs his achy lip. And it scares his fear away, most peculiarly. 

You hold him in bed, too, amidst the crisp, flower-scented linen of his fresh bed sheets, and you apologize. 

“I’m sorry for what happened tonight. If I hadn’t said a thing, you wouldn’t have ended up bruised and swollen,” you croak out, shifting the cold compress lower on his face, and you break into tears that trigger his. He had wished you weren’t a brat, but for a far different reason, and he tells you. 

“It’s an honor to get punched in the face for you.” He smiles through his tears and you sigh, removing the cold compress. “But I did wish things ended differently. I wanted to fuck you in my car. Keep the window open so you would hear your favorite rapper. But if things went according to my plan, you wouldn’t have healed me.” 

You sniffle, your eyes rounding at the onrush of your tender emotions, and Jungkook watches the waterfall of your tears. His own flows and mingles with yours, joining in unity. 

“What happened to you when we left?” you ask and Jungkook knows he wouldn’t avoid this question for long. Deems you deserve to know because of all what you’ve done for him. And he readies himself, pausing before he bares himself, fully, to you. 

“I got into panic mode because I blamed myself for ruining your night and…” he trails off, aware of the fact he needs to be more specific, and he takes a deep breath, wiping his tears with one hand before slapping it back on the duvet. “I have a constant fear that the people I care for will eventually leave me,” he explains and a wisp of pride envelops his bones for managing to get those words out for the first time in his life. You snuggle closer to his side, placing your head on his shoulder, and he gazes down at you. His fingers find your ear on their own and it comforts him enough, to touch you like that, that he’s able to continue. “I got left behind a lot of times in my past, which is why I swore off love. It just hurt too much and I stopped having the capacity for it. And when we left the concert, I thought you’d leave me, too, after what I’d done.” 

You press the cold compress back to his cheek. “I could never leave you, you’re mine,” you whisper, and another stream of tears soaks through the dish towel wrapped around frozen vegetables. Jungkook doesn’t take your words for granted. He puts great meaning to them and hides them, safely, in his sternum. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t ruin my night. It was all me and for that I’m sorry.” 

He squeezes your arm. “Don’t be sorry,” he says and means it. Lifts his head and plants a cold kiss to your lips. 

Gentle. 

“I love you, Ggukie. It’s me who should be fighting for you now.” 

Jungkook laughs through his nose. “No, I’ll keep protecting my queen.” One more kiss, gentler. “I love you,” he adds and means it. 

And he falls asleep like this. With you clinging to the side of his body while keeping the cold compress intact and unmoving with your forehead. One that he removes in the middle of the night and warms up the iciness of your skin by smothering it with his body heat. 

Returns to the rose garden and gapes at the statue of you, hand in hand with you—as a changed person, a sensitive, flawed and submissive person that is loved and accepted. 

Finds it hard to believe even in his dream. 

And you’re there when he wakes up. 

Drooling, indecent and vulgar as you are. And he wouldn’t want anyone else.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗨𝗽 𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗠𝗮𝗸𝗻𝗮𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝘁𝟭

Warnings: None

Maknaeline x Reader. Angst.

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ᒍIᔕᑌᑎG

Jisung was always the one to make people laugh, to brighten the room with his energy and humor. His smile was contagious, his jokes quick, and his laughter a sound you cherished immensely. But what people didn’t see, what Jisung hid behind his laughter, was his fear - the constant nagging doubt that told him he wasn’t good enough. Sure people could tell he was an anxious mess. He talked about with Stays, opened up to many people about his anxiety. But few people truly understood what exactly was harbored within that.

You knew that information, of course. You’d been by his side long enough to see the cracks in his playful exterior; and even his anxious exterior. But even you hadn’t realized how deep those insecurities ran - you thought you did. But it wasn't until you accidentally hit a nerve you didn’t know was there that you understood the depth of it; maybe even deeper than anyone else did.

It was late at night, and you and Jisung were lying on the floor of his living room, watching music videos. It was something you often did when he needed to unwind after long studio sessions. He was particularly quiet tonight, though, his usual playfulness replaced by something more subdued.

“Are you okay?” you asked, nudging him gently with your foot.

Jisung shrugged, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Yeah, just tired.”

You weren’t convinced. “You sure? You’ve been kind of quiet all night. I miss hearing your voice, yeobo.”

He hesitated before finally sighing. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just feeling...off.”

You sat up, concerned. “Off how?” You paused the video you were watching and turned all of your attention to him.

He shifted uncomfortably, sitting up too, and running a hand through his hair. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing you feel is stupid,” you said softly, encouraging him to open up.

Jisung gave you a half-hearted smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve just been feeling like...maybe I’m not doing enough? Like, no matter how hard I work, it’s never enough to be at the level I should be. I see the other guys, and sometimes it feels like they’re ahead of me in everything. Better rappers, better singers...even better at being funny.”

You frowned, surprised at the confession. “Jisung, that’s not true. You’re amazing at all those things.” You knew first hand. You got to see all of that up close while being held in his arms, while kissing him goodbye, or cuddling. You got to see him for him...yet he couldn't even see himself?

He gave a bitter laugh, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Maybe. But it doesn’t feel like it.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. You hated seeing him like this, so wrapped up in his doubts that he couldn’t see how talented he truly was. But you didn't know if anything you would say would make it better. So, in a misguided attempt to lighten the mood, you joked, “Well, at least you’ve got that cute quokka thing going for you, right? No one can beat you at that.”

It was meant to make him laugh, to break the tension. But instead, Jisung’s face fell, his expression crumbling in a way that made your heart stop.

"Bab-"

He stood up abruptly, the sudden movement startling you. “So, that’s it? I’m just the cute, funny guy? That’s all people see?” His boba eyes met yours in a frantic worry.

Your eyes widened in shock. “Jisung, no, that’s not what I meant-”

“But that’s what you said!” he snapped, his voice rising, something sharp and hurt laced in every word. “I’m just the guy people laugh at. The one who makes everyone else look better because I’m the ‘funny one.’ The one who is always anxious and pitied! I’m not taken seriously. Not by you, not by anyone.” He cried.

“That’s not true!” you protested, standing up and reaching out for him, but he pulled away.

“Isn’t it?” His voice cracked, and you could see the vulnerability behind the anger. “You’re just like everyone else. You think I’m a joke?Something to pity?”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “Jisung, that’s not it at all. I didn’t mean-”

“I can’t do this right now,” he interrupted, his tone flat, as if he was trying to push down the emotions threatening to spill over. “I need to be alone.”

And just like that, he walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, speechless and devastated. The door to his bedroom closed with a soft click, and you were left with the echo of your words - the ones you hadn’t meant to say, the ones that had hurt him so deeply.

You sank down in front his door, wanting to be near him even in the slightest sense. The tears you held finally slipping down your cheeks. You had only wanted to make him smile, but instead, you had struck right at the heart of his insecurities. And now, you weren’t sure how to fix it.

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ᖴEᒪI᙭

Felix was like the sun. His warmth radiated from every word, every smile, every laugh. Being around him was like basking in the glow of a never-ending summer day. But what people didn’t realize, what Felix kept hidden so well, was the fear that lingered just beneath the surface - the fear that, no matter how bright he tried to shine, the shadows would always be there.

You and Felix had been inseparable for months. It wasn’t just his warmth that drew you to him; it was the way he made everything feel lighter, easier. He was the light in your life, and you were sure you were the same for him. You needed him like you needed oxygen.

But that night, something shifted.

It had been a long day for both of you, and Felix had been uncharacteristically solemn. He’d barely said anything since you arrived at his apartment, his usual playfulness replaced with a strange tension that had settled in the air like a storm waiting to break.

You were sitting on the couch together, watching a movie, huddled up in a blanket due to the freezing living room; product of your broken heater, but his focus was elsewhere. He kept fidgeting, his fingers playing with the sleeve of his hoodie, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Lix, are you okay, baby?” you asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm.

He flinched slightly at your touch, pulling his arm away before giving you a tight smile, and then in regret letting his arm rest into yours slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

You frowned. That wasn’t the Felix you knew. He'd never flinch at your touch or pull away; rather the opposite. Normally, he’d be snuggling up against you, cracking jokes, or commenting on the movie, but tonight he was distant, like he was somewhere far away.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, concern lacing your voice. “You’ve seemed off all day, love.”

Felix shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “I’m fine, really.” His lips were turned downwards, his eyes not looking as bright as they usually did.

You weren’t convinced, but you didn’t want to push too hard. So, you tried to lighten the mood instead, hoping to bring back the Felix you knew. “Maybe you’re just tired of hearing me talk. I mean, you’ve been so quiet tonight, maybe I’ve been boring you to death.” You took a breath and straightened your posture. "I'll stop yapping if you want some quiet. I wouldn't want to rain on the sunshine boy's day." You said patting his head, but he pulled away harshly this time.

It was meant as a joke, something playful to ease the tension. But the second the words left your mouth, Felix’s face changed. His expression hardened, and he stood up abruptly, startling you.

“Is that what you think?” he asked, his voice low, but there was an edge to it that you hadn’t heard before.

You blinked, confused by the sudden change in his demeanor. “What? No, I was just joking, Lix-”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s not funny,” he snapped, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. “Maybe I’m not in the mood to laugh right now.”

Your heart sank at the sight of him standing there, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched. You hadn’t meant to upset him - you had just been trying to make things better, but it was clear now that you’d only made them worse.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said quickly, standing up and reaching for him, but Felix stepped back, shaking his head.

“It’s not about that,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s about everything.”

“Everything?” you repeated, your voice small. “Felix, what are you talking about? Did I do something wrong? Are we breaking up?”

He let out a bitter laugh, one that sounded so wrong coming from him. “It’s about how no matter what I do, I’m always the one who’s ‘cute’ or ‘sweet’ or ‘sunshine,’ never anything else. Just that. Never enough.”

“Felix, you’re more than enough,” you said, your voice shaking as you stepped closer to him. “You’re amazing in every way-” You didn't know what he was talking about. What did he mean by "never enough"? What did he mean by "just that"?

“Am I?” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Because sometimes it feels like I’m just here to make everyone else feel better. Like I’m only worth something because I’m the one always smiling, always making everyone laugh. But what happens when I’m not? What happens when I can’t be that ‘sunshine’ everyone expects me to be? Then what?”

His words hit you hard, and for the first time, you could see how much weight Felix had been carrying. He had always been the bright one, the happy one, the one who brought light into any room. But beneath that light was a darkness he’d kept hidden, a fear of never being seen for who he truly was.

“Felix, that’s not true,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you took another step toward him. “You’re not just some...some image of sunshine to me. You’re so much more than that.” Your eyes were watery and you tried to stay strong and blink the tears away. You rubbed your face and sniffed, trying to wipe the beginning flow of a stream of snot. "I...love you for much more than that..."

But Felix didn’t seem to hear you. He was lost in his own thoughts, spiraling further into his insecurities, and you could see the hurt etched on his face.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, his eyes dark with frustration. “You don’t understand what it’s like to feel like you could become useless any second; to go from enough to not enough in an instant - to feel like the only thing you’re good at is pretending everything’s fine. And that that is the only reason people like you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. What could you say to make him believe you? To make him see that he was more than enough, that his value didn’t depend on always being the happy one?

“I’m tired,” Felix finally whispered, his voice so soft it was barely audible. “I’m tired of pretending. I'm tired of everything, to be honest.”

The vulnerability in his words broke your heart, and you reached out for him again, this time gently taking his hand in yours. But Felix didn’t look at you. His gaze was fixed on the floor, as if he couldn’t bear to face you.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. You didn't want to break up. Ever. “Please, Lixxie talk to me?" Your voice was hanging by a thread.

One that was instantly snapped as Felix didn’t respond, just pulling his hand away from yours, his body tense with a pain you couldn’t reach. And without even a final glance, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there in the cold room and a silence that rivaled it.

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ᔕEᑌᑎGᗰIᑎ

Seungmin had always been known for his calm demeanor and quiet strength. He didn’t outwardly seek attention like others, but his presence was undeniable - a steadying force in any storm. He someone people could rely on, the one who would always be there, quietly doing his best.

But there were things Seungmin never said out loud, things he buried beneath his composed exterior.

Lately, you had noticed a shift in him. The small, easy moments you used to share had been replaced by a distance you couldn’t quite explain. His responses were shorter, his smiles less frequent, and though he never said it, something was clearly weighing on him.

You were worried about it. Your two-year anniversary around the corner, and it made you wonder if he was considering ending things. Maybe he was tired of you?

It had been another long day at the dorm, and you were hanging out with Seungmin in the living room, just trying to enjoy some downtime. But there was an unspoken tension between you, and every attempt at conversation seemed to hit a wall.

“Seungmin, is everything okay?” you asked, your voice soft but filled with concern. He had been so quiet lately, and you were worried that something was wrong. "Did I do something to upset you?"

Seungmin looked up from his phone, his expression carefully neutral. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, but there was a slight edge to his voice, one you hadn’t heard from him before. "And no, you didn't."

You frowned, not convinced. “Are you sure? You’ve seemed really distant lately...like something’s bothering you. And- And I just wanted to make sure I didn't accidentally hurt your feelings or something...”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if he didn’t want to have this conversation. “I’m just tired. It’s nothing.”

But you knew it wasn’t nothing. There was something beneath the surface, something he wasn’t saying, and you hated feeling like you were being shut out. Seungmin wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he had never been this distant before.

“You don’t have to tell me everything,” you said gently, trying to reach him. “But I’m here if you need to talk. You don’t have to handle everything on your own, you know?”

Seungmin’s eyes flickered for a moment, but then his walls came back up. He shrugged, giving you a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m handling it.”

That was when the frustration bubbled up inside you. You weren’t angry at him, but the distance he was creating hurt, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap.

In simplest terms: he was scaring you.

“Seungmin, you can’t keep everything bottled up forever,” you said, your voice a little sharper than you intended. “You don’t have to pretend like everything’s fine all the time.”

Seungmin’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, you saw something flicker in his eyes - something like hurt, or maybe frustration. But it disappeared just as quickly.

“I’m not pretending,” he said quietly, but there was a coldness in his voice now.

You didn’t want to push him, but you couldn’t just sit there and pretend like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. You couldn't let whatever was bothering him fester even more; because if that would result in the end of your relationship than you wouldn't be able to live with yourself for not trying to save it. “It feels like you’re shutting me out, Seungmin. And I don’t know why.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and just when you thought he wasn’t going to respond, he stood up abruptly, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe because I am shutting you out.”

The words were so quiet you almost didn’t hear them, but when they finally sank in, your heart dropped.

“What?” you whispered, standing up to face him. “Seungmin, why...why won't you just explain to me what I did?”

"Sometimes I feel like I'm not who everyone thinks I am."

"Min what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing-"

"Why won't you tell me?"

Seungmin’s eyes were dark with frustration now, and for the first time, you saw a crack in his usually calm demeanor. “Because maybe I don't want to tell you!" He shouts.

The weight of his words hit you like a semi.

“Seungmin, whatever is wrong please- tell me,” you said quickly, taking a step closer to him. "We're supposed to rely on each other in times like these. You can rely on me just like I can rely on you-"

But before you could finish, Seungmin cut you off, his voice laced with bitterness. “Isn't that the problem?” He let out a sarcastic laugh. "I'm the reliable one? So much so that I'm known as the quiet one who is always there when people need him? Like need him need him?"

Your throat tightened, and you felt a lump forming in your chest. You had no idea he felt this way, no idea he had been struggling with this sense of invisibility.

Was that what he was struggling with?

Because for some reason you felt as if it was much more than what you were assuming. But maybe your assumption was correct?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, reaching for him, but Seungmin took a step back, shaking his head. "If you feel invisible-"

“Don’t,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I need...I just need some space right now. I don't think you could even understand if I tried to explain.”

And before you could say anything else, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there in the suffocating silence, your heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid.

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ᒍEOᑎGIᑎ

You’d always admired Jeongin for his youthful spirit and the way he managed to balance the pressures of his career with a bright, playful attitude. But beneath that light-hearted exterior, you knew there were layers to him - things he didn’t always reveal. His role as the youngest in Stray Kids often came with expectations that weighed heavily on him, but Jeongin rarely spoke about it unless he was feeling vulnerable.

Today had been one of those days where he seemed a bit quieter than usual. You had both decided to hang out at the dorm, hoping to unwind after his busy schedule. Everything was normal, at first. You were teasing him about his latest performance, laughing about something silly he did on stage. He had been smiling, but there was a hint of something in his eyes that made you pause.

"You're so lucky, Innie," you said without thinking, the words slipping out as you laughed. "Everyone always loves the maknae. You get all the attention without even trying." It was true.

He didn't even try catching your attention, but the minute you saw him you had an unmistakable attraction; an irrepressible pull to him.

Jeongin's smile faltered, his dimple disappearing, and his eyes dropped to the floor. He didn’t respond right away, which was unusual for him. You realized too late that what you’d said had hit a nerve. You had only meant it as a lighthearted comment, but there was an underlying truth to it that stung.

"Innie?" you asked cautiously, your laughter fading as you noticed the sudden shift in his demeanor.

Jeongin stood up slowly, turning away from you as he ran a hand through his hair. His movements were tense, his back rigid as he faced the wall.

"Jeongin...what's wrong?" you asked softly, feeling a knot form in your stomach. You hadn’t meant to upset him.

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You think it’s lucky? Being the youngest, being the one everyone looks at like I’m some kind of...kid."

Your heart dropped. "No, I didn’t mean it like that baby I mean-"

"But that’s what you think, right?" Jeongin interrupted, his voice quiet, but hardening. He turned to face you, and you were taken aback by the hurt in his eyes. "You think because I’m the maknae, I don’t have to try? That everything’s just handed to me? Because thats what you make it seem like..."

The guilt washed over you in waves. You had never imagined that your words would trigger something so deep, but now you could see just how much he had been holding in. Jeongin had always laughed off his role as the youngest, but now you realized it had weighed on him far more than you knew.

"Jeongin, that’s not what I think at all," you said, your voice trembling with regret, and your bottom lip turning downwards. "I didn’t mean to make it sound like that."

He clenched his fists, his expression a mix of frustration and sadness. "Do you know how hard it is to be seen as a kid all the time? No matter what I do, people look at me like I’m just the cute, young one. Like I can’t be serious, like I don’t work as hard as everyone else."

You could feel the pain behind his words, and it broke your heart. "I’m sorry," you whispered, stepping closer to him. "I didn’t know you felt this way."

Jeongin shook his head, stepping back as if he didn’t want you to get too close. "Of course you didn’t," he muttered bitterly. "Because I don’t talk about it. I don’t complain. I just...deal with it. And if it comes up I just laugh it off because I'm a kid. That's all my hyungs see and all the fans see and all you see."

He looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping. The silence between you felt heavy, and you didn’t know how to fix what you had unintentionally broken. You had hurt him, and you weren’t sure if he would let you in to make it right.

"Maybe I should go," Jeongin said suddenly, his voice cold and distant.

Panic rose in your chest- did you mess everything up? Did something you see as a small issue snowball into a major catalyst of your happiness? "No, wait-"

But before you could stop him, Jeongin grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. His retreating figure left you standing there, feeling helpless, your heart aching with guilt. You had never seen him like this - so vulnerable, so fragile. And it was your words that had caused those cracks to appear.

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

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[frankieunscripted]

My reasons to hate Drake

First things first, I'm the reales- wait, wrong theme. First of all, I would like to say this is NOT an unbiased recap, this is literally just me listing things I've hated about Drake for years. You might as well join in on the hate train. Go watch some YouTube video essays on this if you wanna know more!!! You'll find plentyyyy

Certified Pedophile ("allegedly"): Texting teen girls until they're of age and then go and date them. ew.

Cosplay Gangsta: disrespecting the culture as a whole, but especially what hiphop is about. Flexing money, cars, girls, drugs, clothes bc he never understood hiphop was never about flexing, but about being heard bc you're oppressed, about revolution. Now we got his die-hard fans running around acting like this is true rap. no. "You don't know nun bout dat!"

Culture Vulture: jumping from trend to trend in order to make it "his own", faking accents that he has no business playing with and dropping them as soon as he's done with this specific type of genre bc it's not trendy anymore. Adapting whole "personas" around this, instead of just merely collabing with other artists. Jamaican and African accents are just 2 examples here.

Blackness: Drake never really got out of his acting career. Back on DeGrassi he was acting as a high school jock. Now he's acting like a tough black guy who's from the streets and knows what it's like to be down bad, when this was never his life. Lil Wayne warned him to never change and act tough just bc he would sign to Weezy's label where the rappers were predominantly "gangsta type dudes". And what did Drizzy do? He's acting all tough and "outta dem streets". He's clearly overcompensating for not feeling black enough (I've already reblogged 2 posts about this, pls see these for further context). Drake's mad for not being referred to as a rapper who speaks on being black, when in reality the black experience was never of topic in any of his songs. He also doesn't give back to the community.

Lil Wayne: Drake had relations with fellow rapper Lil Wayne's gf (she actually was of age, ayoooo!) while Wayne was away in prison. Wayne got word of the fact his gf was cheating on him with the young guy he signed under his label and was pissed. Drake, in an effort to smooth out the situation, got Wayne's face tattooed on his arm. Say what you will about portrait tattoos, but this story is just so fucking typical Drake. How the fuck do you think this is gonna help anyone?

Validation: Drake donates money in the music video for God's Plan, only to earn more money with that video/song than he donated in the first place. He felt good about donating and then never did that shit again.

Numbers: As a great man once said: "Crack fiends bought 10 million rocks, that don't mean it's good. It don't mean nothing." (As you can imagine, that man was 2Pac). And with that I say that proving your worth in the industry by numbers don't mean a lot. It means you and your team figured out the market and started producing stupid, vapid, but terribly long albums to maximize streaming numbers, automatically bumping up your place in the industry. This is about quantity, not quality - good rap/ hiphop was never about that. Drake actively validates his music and status with his fame, money and streams and neither him nor his fans seem to get that says nothing about the artistic value of his music. "Numbers lie too, fuck your pride, too!" (I mean really, Baby Shark has 14 Billion views on YouTube - you think that's REAL artistry, Mister Aubrey?)

Cocky Ass Bitch: I would be okay with a lot of his music if Drake just knew his fucking place. He went pop ages ago, but still people (including himself) refer to him as a rapper - no even, as THE rapper, placing him in the Top 3. Sometimes I feel like y'all do this, just to piss me off personally. Apart from everything else wrong with Drake, there's nothing wrong with liking music like his persé. Not everyone likes conscious/ deep stuff and sometimes, when you with the homies, you just wanna chill and listen to something "mindless" - MIND you, I'm not looking down on "non-conscious" rap, I'm just saying not every artist has to be woke/ deep all the time and some "empty" party anthem about girls, fashion, cars and alcoholism is fun at times. These party anthems deserve their place. And a child actor turned rapper turned POP STAR is valid in my books - just not if it's Drake. Apropos cockiness: The dude compares himself multiple times to Michael Jackson and while that got a few good lines out of him, I believe it's close to fucking blasphemy. Drake and MJ on the same pedastal. I mean sure, questionable stuff happening with kids, both of them wildly successful in their industry (mind you, streaming like today wasn't around back then and many of the numbers cannot be compared), but one of them a real talent and the other one some guy who more or less made it as an industry plant. "I can dance like Michael Jackson? / I'd argue your skills really lack, son!" (okay sorry, I know, that was corny as fuck xD) Dude is flexing with numbers instead of poetic abilities -

About the art itself:

Ghostwriters: "What poetic abilities?", I hear you ask - Yeah, don't think I forgot! Best believe I been cooking this one. There's evidence for Drake having ghostwriters - which on its own is fine, don't believe every star writes every single bar on their own. My problem with this is, that Drake keeps his cocky attitude, even though many of his hits aren't really Aubrey-written and also many ghostwriters never get their credit (this is why they're called "ghostwriters", I know that this is not something specific to Drake, but slapping one more name on the credits ain't that hard, when you're worth a billion bucks already). This is the rap equivalent of flexing your homework when you know DAMN WELL copied it off of your best friend and did nothing for that success. I guess his song Right Hand wasn't about a romantic interested after all, but the dudes who been writing it!

STOLEN SHIT: Why in hell is no one mentioning this on here? Drake is KNOWN for stealing other artists' verse metres (referred to as "flows", y'all tumblr, idk how much you guys do know, okay?), melodies, whole beats, samples or verses in general. In no other studio would you see mentions of a "reference track" concerning songwriting. They take a song as reference and build around it as they construct a beat. There's PLENTY of evidence for this happening, one story really had me baffled, where a young indie-rapper met Drake in the early 2010s, gave him his CD to listen to and a whopping 5 years later the indie-rapper realizes Drake just fucking stole his entire song (a really personal one at that) on his latest album back then. Being indie, of course the guy had little to no means of fighting back with lawyers or anything, man's was working a 9to5 job and had other stuff going on. Before you wanna argue with me though: YES. There is a difference between stealing and paying hommage. One famous example is Drake biting Eminem's Superman flow on Chicago Freestyle: "But I do know one thing though/ Bitches, they come, they go/ Saturday through Sunday, Monday / Monday through Sunday, yo/ Maybe I'll love you one day/ Maybe we'll someday grow". The only good thing Drake ever did was changing Em's "Bitches" to "Women" on his song. Other than that: exact same few bars. This is a hommage. Why? Because Eminem, that's why. You can pay hommage to great, well-known artists with good bars. It takes a common ground of knowledge from artist to audience to make a hommage like this work. That can go well. Kendrick copies the flow of a Kanye West song on HiiiPower and it works just fine because you listen to either of the song and think: "Ah yeah exactly, that one part, okay, I see you." You don't pay hommage to a small, unknown, indie-rapper by copying his whole verse about his Mom, when you would never say stuff like that on your records before. You don't, because it wouldn't work. None of your listeners would understand the innuendo at all, because no one ever heard of the "great guy you'd be paying hommage to". So shut up.

Music: It's just not that good. Like yeah, he had a few bangers, but let's not exaggerate. Artistically Drake does not offer anything. If he ever did, he probably left all of that on the first few albums he still rapped on. His delivery sucks, his singing voice sounds like he's tryna be The Weeknd at times but isn't. The lyrics aren't special. What the fuck?

Euphoria: Even before getting deeper into hiphop, I've always hated the way Drake presents himself. When Kendrick said: "I hate the way that you walk, talk, dress" I felt that. I hate the way he "raps", the way he drags his words, the way he laughs, the way he "sings". Just a whole lotta shit I dislike about the guy.

Sneak Dissing: If you want beef then get in line, don't just kinda allude to it, you weak ass bitch

SENSITIVE ASS BITCH: I love a man who's in tune with his feelings but Drake being the cosplaying gangsta clown he is, acts like he's all tough when in reality, you can't really say shit to him, cause he "can't let this shit slide, ay".

Kendrick's Control Verse drops - a verse calling out multiple rappers saying Kendrick will come for them in friendly competition for the crown of being the best. Drake was mentioned. Everyone thinks it's kinda cool and goes along. Drake is mad. In an interview he basically said he found it fake because the next time he saw Kendrick "it was all love" and that he wanted it "to be real. Let it be real then". Okay crodie, next time you get called out in a fair rap competition, best believe I'll sock you in your fucking throat, I gotchu.

The Weeknd doesn't sign to Drake's label OVO after working with Drake for a while. Drake is mad again and feels betrayed. Why you gotta be like this?

Kendrick says that he doesn't wanna collab with Drake because their music is too different, not because of anything personal. He just doesn't see it happen in the near future because it would not match artistically. Drake gets mad.

Drake stopped beefing with Pusha T back in the day. Probably because he exposed his son. But still, if you want beef, then clean up your plate, bc you eat what you order and dont't just start to "let this shit slide, ay"

("allegedly") being involved in XXXTentacion's passing back in 2018 over beef. This beef started because of the flow of X's popular song Look at Me!, which Drake stole shortly after letting X know his management would contact him about a possible collab. As you can imagine, X was never contacted by Drake's people. The kid was 20 years old, man. He said some outrageous shit at times, but no one deserves to go out like he did.

Also, the famous DMX ("Y'all gon make me lose my mind!") once said in an interview that he'd like to punch Drake in the face and I support that. Kendrick and his homies laughed at the clip - as did everybody else, cause it's hilarious if a beast and a legend of hiphop hates Drake. Drake was mad at Kendrick laughing about it and not taking it seriously. What did he expect? Should Kendrick have went after DMX and made him apologize for what he said about lil Aubrey? How old are you? 5?

Drake gets mad at a lot of shit - bottom line. I could go on and on, but I've been writing this for hours, it's half past 3 am and I wanna sleep after uni and work, y'all.

DURING THE DISS-ERTATION: this section is about shit Drake did during the beef with Kendrick.

Saying Kendrick's Like That verse was weak af. That's your core response? Someone flames you and people are already throwing ass to the mere sound of it and you think: "Huh, that sucked anyway." Pathetic.

Calling Kendrick short (over and over and over again) as if his height is under his control/ his fault? - as if that takes way from Kendrick's skill, Kendrick's allegations againt Drake! - as if that means ANYTHING AT ALL to people over the age of like... 12?

Going after anybody's family in the first place. I know nothing is really "off-limits" in a rap battle like this, but please have the fucking decency. Don't mention my Momma, my kids, my dog, my fam, my friends who ain't got nothing to do with the fact that I hate you. I will say I am not proud of Kendrick for getting down on that level himself - but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy Meet The Grahams and the sheer panic it induced. And sometimes I gotta be a little childish and yell "But Aubrey started ittt!"

Hitting on Whitney in The Heart Part 6. Don't go for another man's treasure, you absolute dog. Accusing Whitney of being unfaithful. My friend, this beef is about us (the Culture) hating you and the things you do. Stop trying to shift this into something it is not.

Reacting to diss tracks via instagram stories and memes, like he's that one popular girl in 7th grade who's gotta clap back to something someone said in school on her IG. Shut up.

Calling The Weeknd and his manager gay. Are we not over homophobia yet? Being queer is not an insult. Also falsely "accusing" people of being gay is uncool as fuck - but oh "You don't know nun bout dat!" bc false accusations are basically everything you do - and also possibly outing someone like that is fucking hurtful as shit. I know the people involved are probably not queer at all, but if they were - period.

Using AI in a song at all. Drake, you already proved you suck. Don't force it down our throats. What part of you thought it would make you look good? What part said it would be good to do in a diss track, when the world knows diss tracks are even more a show of capability than other songs. Nah, you go and use AI. Idc about your "mind games": Using AI Snoop Dogg is just weird as fuck cause the Doggy is still well and alive - if you want him to feature on your song, call the legend and ask hi- oh wait, you knew he woulda said "Aww hell nah!" cause everyone hates you? Huh. Snoop probably woke up one day, hit a blunt and asked "When the FUCK did I collab with Drake?". Anyway, using AI 2Pac is straight up disrespectful, when you know damn well the guy would've hated you if he knew who you'd become. Just doing this because it's 2Pac, because you can and not even asking for permission of Pac's people is crazy. Glad the shit was taken down anyways.

The 8 Mile "Airing Out Your Dirty Laundry"-Trick before the big battle does NOT invalidate future claims on you diddling kids. No. Not even if 2Pac says it first. Nah.

His Damage Control Effort in post to make it seem like/make us believe that he's in control, when Kendrick has been bodying him is hilariously embarrassing. Anyone can claim the mole was fake "all along" after it happened.

Making fun of Kendrick for his verse on Taylor Swift's Bad Blood is just stupid. Look at all the features Drake does. Rihanna, BadBunny, DJ Khaled, Future, PartyNextDoor, Lil Wayne, Diddy, Nicki Minaj, Wizkid, ..... the list is so fucking long (I'm just picking at random songs at this point, cause I do not want my browser/spotify history to be associated with Drake's music. I don't wanna go out of my way to say he NEEDS these people to stay relevant but let's face it: His discography and his success would be different if it weren't for them

Acting like he's so great for "finally making Kendrick rap again" - Sir, you don't write your shit on your own, stfu. You don't invest time and effort into your vapid albums. YOU should be thankful for Kendrick destryoing you, giving us the best few lines out of you in a long time.

Not addressing important shit. We been over the allegations, I will not repeat them in this post cause this is already long enough. BUT y'all on the same page as me, aight? Instead of addressing EVERYTHING, he just responds with diss tracks that aren't terrible but really not THAT good, yk? Not going into the shit that we want to se addressed.

Acting like disstracks need replay value. Idk if this is a Drake or a fanbase problem, but people really act like Drake's tracks were better, bc you can listen to them more casually. "Kendrick basically made a whole song about Drake" - THIS IS WHAT A DISS TRACK SHOULD BE! Notice how we don't call every song containing a diss immediately a "diss track"? That's why. Diss tracks were meant to hit your opponent in the stomach with witty bars, double entendres, nice delivery and good production. Diss tracks weren't meant to be club bangers - bonus if they do end up being some though, looking at you, Like That and Not Like Us.

Not reading into stuff properly or just not listening. This is a small one, but ngl I hate the fact they got the Mother I Sober reference wrong (The song is NOT about Kendrick being abused, BUT about Kendrick not being abused and his Mom NOT believing him and passing her sa trauma onto him, even though he didn't experience that). Also Kendrick explicitly says "DOT, the money, power, respect / The last one is better" on Like That and Drakes response (again) is "Huh, I have way more money than you and in the industry, I'm way more powerful than you. Also, you so short tihhihi." BITCH he SAID respect was the most important of the three and you disrespect him, not by calling him out by his wrong doings but by picking on physical features the man cannot change like a 5th grade bully.

Anyways. phew. If you made it this far... wow. I'm impressed. I'll keep updating this. Thanks for coming to my beef talk.

EDIT: Thank y'all for the positive reactions on this post. If you seek more info/ want me to further explain stuff/ have even more dirt on Drake, let me know and we can work something out. -Frankie out

[rie-092]

CHILDHOOD FRIEND

✶﹒ yandere! kim raebin x childhood friend! reader

honestly, i can't see kim raebin getting close to a woman who is completely stranger to him. so, let's just say that you were the daughter of their neighbour who is also his childhood friend.

we all know how introverted kim raebin was, so you had a hard time on getting close with him. because he always avoids you, or if you ever found a perfect time to talk to him, he always hisses making you blink. because for someone who looks like a bunny, kim raebin sure acts like a cat around you.

but wanna know how the two of you got close to each other? it's simple. it's because kim raebin accidentally saw you playing a guitar at a school event back when the two of you were in third grade. and boy, he was overjoyed! because this was the first time that he saw someone interested in music just like him!

at first, kim raebin was really shy when the two of you played or rather spent time together while playing various music instruments or making songs. but expect that after that, he would be so clingy. clingy to the point that he would follow you around like a damn puppy. at first, you thought that it was cute— not until you knew that he started stalking you around when you didn't hangout with him for a few days because you were too busy with school works.

what did you do? of course, you confronted him. but look, even though kim raebin has a problem when it comes on socializing with other people. it wasn't the same with you, because this guy knew everything about you. from your likes and dislikes, your habits, hell, even your measurements! that was the main reason why he easily changed the flow of the argument. he easily made you think that you are the one who's imagining that he was stalking you just because you missed hanging out with him, damn this smart guy.

kim raebin is so damn good when it comes to manipulating you into thinking that you were always the wrong one. forcing you to hang out with him without you thinking that he is actually forcing you. but, don't worry because kim raebin will never hurt you, he swear.

that's why when you heard that he got scouted on a certain entertainment company. you were overjoyed about this. because raebin will finally be able to achieve his dream and of course, you will be able to escape his clutches.

but, boy! kim raebin is a smart guy. because a year after kim raebin became a trainee, you got scouted too, by the same company that scouted kim raebin. how did that happen? you have no fucking idea. the only thing that they said is that they liked the song that you sent to them when you didn't actually send them one of your pieces. but who in the hell did sent it to them? you couldn't helped but to wonder. of course, it was a certain black-haired bunny who was overjoyed when he saw you confusedly stepped onto the company. and kim raebin— along with cha eugene who pestered raebin to introduce him to you welcomed you with the usual excited expression of his.

fast forward, when raebin debuted on testar, you also debuted and became the main vocalist, main rapper and lead dancer of your group. raebin liked the fact that everyone shipped the two of you. when does it start again? when you and raebin got invited to a certain variety show where the two kpop artists got partnered with each other and do certain tasks to see how compatible they were with each other. and seeing how the two of you easily do those tasks without even getting shy with each other, the host couldn't help but to ask the reason behind it. and when the two of you said that you were childhood friends. the internet got into chaos, fuck, childhood friends? everyone loves that kind of trope!

and now, he can visit you anytime he wants. seeing you and him eating together? it's fine, you were childhood friends after all! but seeing you getting partnered with a kpop artist who is not raebin? expect that everyone will criticize that idol because of that.

and raebin was satisfied with what was happening. he loved the fact that he was able to tie you down with him without you realizing it. it's fine even if you get into a secret relationship with other famous people. because once that was discovered by the public. he just needs to act pitiful and his and your fans will do the work to force you break up with whoever that guy was.

look, he likes you. he respects your decisions and choices but seeing you with other people makes his skin crawl. so, can you stay with him and do him a favour just like the old days, will you? because if you do that, he will gladly remain still and take care of you and protect your career.

“ i'm doing you a favour, you're just too irrational to see that right now, (first name).”

[miguelhugger2099]

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who often liked the classics he grew up with—the ones his mom played every weekend.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who liked the singers, men and women alike, who now were as old—if not, older—as his mom so he never got around to be going to concerts.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel that never kept up with recent celebrity drama or news. Oh, some current singer just won 6 Grammys? Good for her. Oh, this rapper held the top spot on the charts for weeks? Nice.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who lives under a rock. But his brother doesn’t.

Fanboy!Gabriel who’s always been into music as his hobby. Ranging from in the States to Overseas. Old and new alike.

Fanboy!Gabriel who BEGS Miguel to take him to this concert of this girl group that came around.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who’d rather die than drive and park around Nueva York for ONLY three hours.

Fanboy!Gabriel who makes a compromise that Miguel could come too! Even walk around Nueva York for some food.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who can’t say no to his baby brother.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who is absolutely exhausted after walking around the arena, Gabriel greeting and handing out freebies to other fans like him.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who ends up at a coffee shop where Gabriel shoo’d him away to. Telling him to grab two cold drinks while he waits in line.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who groans internally when he sees the line. Someone behind him groaning outwardly.

He turns his head to see some woman—you—, hat on top of your head and hoodie draped around you. Pieces of your hair fall on the side of your cheeks that frame your face. A mask covering the lower half of your face and you’re in sweats. Your eyes meet his.

For a moment you look panicked but you stay still.

Miguel looks back at the register, some old man being extra specific with his drink and food order. He then glances down at you again.

“Hopefully the next ones won’t be as stingy with what they want.” He comments. He notices the eye bags under your eyes.

He can tells you smiles by the ways your eyes creased. “Yeah. Hopefully.”

By the time it was his turn, he looks over his shoulder. “What did you want?”

You’re taken aback. “Oh, uh—“

“I’ll pay for it.” Miguel figures you’ve had a long day and felt that he could help.

He flusters you, your hands bringing down your mask to relay your order to the nice cashier girl. Miguel glances down your lips subconsciously, noticing the gloss over them.

It’s only for a few seconds and you pull it over your face again as quickly as possible. Miguel looks around the place. You were acting strange—was someone following you? Were you okay?

He waits beside you at the side of the counter and he bends down at your level. “Are you okay?”

You let out a gasp of surprise, jumping a bit back but smile and laugh nervously. “Ah, fine. Thanks for asking.”

“You sure? Is someone stalking you?”

You look at his eyes, scanning his face for something he’s not quite sure you’ll find. Miguel visibly sees you relax.

“No, no. I’m just on a tight schedule, is all.” You laugh more real this time.

Miguel stands up again. “I know the feeling.” The corner of his lips turn up.

His drinks gets called out first and he takes them both in his hands, taking a sip from one of them.

“You ordered…two?” You ask. Miguel nods.

“For my brother. We’re here for some concert thing he wanted to go to.” He shrugs. You hold your giggle back.

“I take it you’re not interested?” You ask with amusement. Miguel snorts.

“Hardly.” He takes another sip from his cup. “Hopefully I never have to walk around Nueva York again just for some girl group.”

You shrug. “Hopefully.” You agree with him, a smile heard just by your tone.

The conversation is cut short once your drink is called. Miguel finding the way you hum in delight to be amusing. You thank him for the drink, offering once more to pay for it back but he refuses.

Miguel doesn’t notice your manager approaching you, fussing over you and ushering you back into your van.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who enters the arena with his brother. Gabriel had done every hack possible to make sure he got seats close enough.

Not a Fanboy!Miguel who sits with his arms crossed, yawning and leaning his head back to sleep.

But he couldn’t do that when Gabriel shakes him awake. It’s starting!

The giant screens zoom in on each of the members faces and Miguel nearly falls out of his seat when you show up last.

He notices your eyebags are gone. Completely disappeared with makeup. Glittering eyes with a cute puppy eyeliner and false eyelashes. Your hair in a style that stays still even while dancing. The same glossy lips that sing angelically.

Fanboy!Miguel who grips his seat, feelings his heart flutter when you wink at the camera, blowing kisses to the fans in his general direction.

[joostsblog]

I really love all your Joost fics, and thank you so much for the Aggu crumbs 💕

Do you take Aggu requests too? There’s this one Aggu tiktok (the grape video) and I was wondering if you could do an Aggu x Reader where reader is the one feeding the grapes jokingly at first, but then it turns into something intimate

Yes, I saw the grape video and I think I get appeal 😌 This is a shorter one but I hope you enjoy it anyway & I hope it's fine with you that I also snuck a bit of Joost x reader in there 🤭

caught in the middle part one: picnic day ~ a Ski Aggu / Joost Klein x reader series

My masterlist here ✨💌 caught in the middle series masterlist

Pairing: Ski Aggu x reader (also a sneaky Joost Klein x reader, sry i had to)

Description: A cheeky joke between two friends turns into something different.

Word Count: 0.9k

A/N: THIS IS A SERIES NOW! Read part two here!

I usually don't write for Aggu but loved this idea so here you go💌 requests still open although I can't promise too many as I'll be on vacation the next two weeks ☀️ if you liked it, you can show your support by leaving a reblog 🫶

Warnings: mention of weed, not proofread

"Aggu!" you said with a big smile as you saw the blonde man walk up to you.

"(Y/N), what's up?" Aggu asked while engulfing you in a hug.

"Nothing much, you're the first person to be here," you shrugged and motioned to the picnic blanket you had already spread out on the grass.

"I expected nothing else," Aggu laughed and sat down on the blanket.

The both of you had a reputation within your friend group for always being punctual while everyone would be late. You were glad that at least you weren't the only person and secretly you liked it because it meant that every time you would hang out in a group you would get Aggu an extra 15 to 30 minutes just to yourself. So you couldn't complain, really. It was a warm late spring day, summer just around the corner. The park was lively but not too packed. Aggu was wearing a tight football jersey which hugged his figure and especially his upper arms very nicely.

It had only been recently when you looked at Aggu with different eyes. It happened when you were out partying a few weeks ago and the music was so loud, the club was so packed that you stood so close to Aggu that he had to lean down to you and closely whisper into your ear to tell you something. When the hairs on your arms shot straight up and suddenly you got all shy around him. Prior to this moment, you didn't know that Aggu could have this effect on you (maybe because before that Joost was all you could think about but right now your mind was preoccupied with the German rapper). Since you caught your little crush on Aggu that only grew by the minute you really appreciated how much of a flirty personality he had. Any joke or touch you shared would never be taken in the wrong way by him, that you were sure of.

"I got us some beer and cookies," Aggu announced as he unpacked the goods from his bag. "Also this," he held up a packet of weed. He laid down on his side only propped up by his elbow.

"Nice," you grinned. "I brought some hummus and veggie sticks and some grapes," you pointed to the food already on the blanket.

"I would love some grapes right now," Aggu pointed to the packet of grapes in front of you.

"Be my guest," you said.

"But I'm so comfortable right now," Aggu pouted. "Will you feed them to me? Please?" he said with a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes.

"Whatever," you said and opened the package. You didn't make the effort to actually pluck the grapes from the vine. He'll have to do that himself, you thought. Instead, you just scooted a bit closer to Aggu so you could comfortably reach him. You dangled the vine of grapes above his head so that he could reach the grapes with his mouth.

Aggu shot you a quick shot and a grin before he opened his mouth and took some of the grapes into his mouth. You realised the position you put him in really didn't help you to cure the crush anytime soon. You watched Aggu's face intently. How sharp and godlike his jawline looked from the side. How lush his lips looked as they wrapped around the grapes. How he closed his eyes as if he was leaning into a kiss. How the stubble on his face might feel against your fingers or maybe even between your thighs. You tried to ban those thoughts to the back of your head immediately.

"You also want one?" Aggu asked after he swallowed.

"Sure," you said and before you could pick a grape yourself Aggu went in again and plucked a single grape from the vine using his mouth.

He nodded and angled his head upwards to you, the grape positioned between his front teeth. There really was no way you could misread the invitation Aggu was sending you right now. You bit your lip and put your hand on Aggu's shoulder before you leaned down, your heart almost beating out of your chest. Your lips softly touched Aggu's as you took the grape and sucked it into your mouth. Instead of pulling back you suddenly felt Aggu's hand on your cheek, holding you just in place. Now your lips were properly pressed on Aggu's. The kiss was soft and sweet and yet you could feel arousal building up inside your lower stomach, wishing you could be in private and alone with Aggu right now.

"Are we interrupting something?" you heard your friend Bianca's amused voice behind you.

You let go of Aggu and looked up at her, embarrassment overcoming you. Behind Bianca was Joost who you noticed didn't look so amused like Bianca, his facial expression blank. You let go of Aggu's shoulder as you shifted your position beside him.

"What's up?" you asked the two of them nonchalantly and Bianca started ranting about the Tinder date she had been on just last night.

You could feel Aggu shifting closer to you again as he leaned over to whisper in your ear. Just for a second, your gaze crossed Joost's stare across from you but before you could even react he quickly looked away.

"If you're free tonight we can continue this," Aggu's voice seductively danced over your ear and you smiled.

"I'd like that very much."  

~

READ PART TWO HERE // series masterlist

[successfulgoddess333]

MANIFESTATION IS CONFIRMATION APPLIED BY YOUR AFFIRMATION THAT YOUR DESIRES EXIST.

Am I rapper? Damn 😭✋🏾

ANYWAYSSSSSS

You don’t have to change your words

Change the way you word things

I know I mentioned

Before that you have to stop saying you’ll “try”

But honestly that’s exactly what you should do

I’m not trying to be hypocritical I just feel like I have an evolutionary experience every day I’m evolving into a new more educated more knowledgeable person

You should indeed “try”

Because trying to do something making an attempt

IS DOING IT

Trying IS doing!

It’s all about your energy that changes the way you are approaching the task

If you say

*in doubt*

“I’m going to try to meditate tonight ”

Vs

*Certain/Confident*

“I’m gonna to try to meditate”

The tone people the toneeee

Same sentence different energy

ily vs I love you vs I LOVE YOU vs love you…

Different tonessssss

If I text you

OH MY GOD

You’d be like “WHAT???”

Without emojis or any context you’d be terrified

Think of the tone you use when speaking like irl emojis

You’re going to TRY= I’m giving myself the opportunity to meditate and succeed

Or you’re going to “try”= I’m not too sure if this’ll work but I’m giving myself room to fail because I’m skeptical

Do you see the difference??

So do you wanna

“Try”

Or

TRY

TRYING= making an attempt but going in with a positive mindset giving yourself room for improvement and success

“Trying”= making an attempt but going in with a negative mindset giving yourself room for indecision,doubt and failure

Trying can lead to failure or success depending on your energy and the tone you use when saying the word

Also note

Your “fake scenarios” are real

You consider them fake because you put it on a pedestal and you think you could never do it that it’s out of reach bits in your head

No

This is literally what manifesting is

Manifestation is a confirmation that your desires exist

IMMA SAY IT AGAIN FOR DA DUMMIES(Jk ily)

MANIFESTATION IS CONFIRMATION APPLIED BY YOUR AFFIRMATION THAT YOUR DESIRES EXIST.

So you’re not affirming for something or someone new

Your “fake scenarios” are real realities

It already exists 🧍🏾‍♀️

Like a spy

You see your target(your desire)

Confirm it’s yours with affirmations

Why do you think

Affirmations are always

“I have-

“I am”

Etc

Because

IT ALREADY EXISTS YOU ARE JUST AFFIRMING IT TO YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS MIND

Which automatically believes you because

It has no eyes

Think about it

Your subconscious mind

Doesn’t know what you look like

It’s more of a sponge or tape recorder that just absorbs information

So

This is your life still

Only because you keep saying and thinking that so now you’re subconsciously recording the same information which is why you’re repeating yourself

Also forgot to mention

Stop being so darn negative

Why as humans would we choose to believe negativity over positivity

The world is constantly projecting negativity onto others in many ways

Through social media

Bullying cyber bullying

Harassment etc

And through the news

The news ESPECIALLY

So in conclusion

Society itself is unconsciously manifesting negativity

How to avoid it?

Get off your phone

Meditate

Go outside

Listen to music do something that makes you happy

Tell me why you’d happily believe a false narrative over a positive statement?

You’d rather believe the negativity because that’s all you see around you that’s why

THINK ABOUT IT💕

[btsugarush]

RAP SH!T | myg [teaser]

summary: when your boyfriend yoongi starts to get recognition as an underground rapper he gets a little fame hungry, and cheats on you, putting an end to your 6 year relationship. 2 years later your friends beg you to attend a show in los angeles, and guess who's the opening headliner?

pairings: ex boyfriend!rapper!yoongi x f!reader.

warnings: lovers to exes, exes to lovers, smut, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap that sh!t up), oral (f receiving), soft dom!yoongi, jealous!yoongi, drugs, alcohol, strong language, infidelity, fluff, mini series, 18+, minors dni.

word count: 498

“I thought that was you,” a familiar voice speaks over your shoulder, causing your heart to skip a beat. You turn around, coming face to face with none other than Yoongi himself– or should you say ‘Agust D’. “You really stand out in a crowd.” The corner of his lips tug into a sly smirk.

“Y-Yoongi…” you stutter, almost too tongue tied to speak coherently. You were hoping to not have an encounter with him. Wasn’t finding out that he was performing at the club an ambush to your heart enough? Now here he was trying to converse with you after two years.

You finally find your voice, mustering up something other than his name. “Hey… it’s been a while.” You smile slightly. The bartender hands you your Long Island iced tea and you thank him, taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage. “It has,” His tongue ran over his bottom lip, his eyes never straying from yours; though, the same couldn’t be said for you. “ So, were you fuckin’ with the show?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah! You were great. I’m really happy that your music career took off…” It probably sounded fake, especially since your breakup ended on a bad note, but you truly were happy for Yoongi. He worked hard. He was talented, creative, and simply a musical genius. You always knew that. You just wish it didn’t all get to his head. You could only imagine how much of a player he turned out to be now that his popularity went far beyond live shows at his friend’s basement parties.

“Appreciate that,” he expresses his gratitude. “Would’ve been better if it took off with that special someone though,” These words catch your attention, and you finally hold contact with him, caught off guard by the confession. Your mood had now gone from indifferent to indignant. The look in his eyes is affectionate, soft as he continues on. “Y’know… you’ve been on my mind heavy, y/n. Maybe this is fate–”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You blurt out, cutting the ginger short. “This is the first time I see you in two years since our breakup, and suddenly I’m on your mind? Do I look like one of your groupies?” The look on Yoongi’s face was unreadable, but you can tell that he’s taken aback by the outburst. “I refuse to let you reopen a wound that I stitched up long ago.” You hop down from the bar stool you were sitting on, grabbing your purse from the countertop. You don’t even care about your drink anymore.

“Y/n, wait…” Yoongi tries to plead for you to listen, but you’re not that same girl anymore. You moved on; at least that’s what you wanted him to believe. “The show was fun. Have a great night, Yoong– I mean Agust D.”

You leave him at the bar alone as you go on a hunt for your friends. You don’t even spare him a last glance.

[victorbutnotreally]

OMG I'M FINALLY FINDING A BLOG WHICH IS MY CUP OF TEA. YOU'RE AWESOMEEEEE

i have an idea but i can't write for shit, so i'll give it to my favorite tumblr writer (which is youuu)

smau where han messages the wrong number and it's some guy from like another country. and they become friends and then han comes to find out that his text pal is actually a celeb he fanboys over.

(bonus points if mn knows han as well)

OMG - Han Jisung x Male Reader

A/N: Love that!! Thank you sm for requesting <3 (I can't title things for the life of me, so you can ask for a different title in the replies and I'll change it) French music makes writing so much more fun.

warnings: slight swearing

blue {} - han purple {} - Mn

{Oh. How nice of this person to wish me a good practice session.

"Is he getting here anytime soon?" Minho's voice echoed through the practice room.

"I'll ask!"

When he opened his phone again to change the number, he saw a familiar figure in the random person's profile picture. Mn Ln. Finally, someone who he can rant about the Mn Ln. }

{ Great. Got my hopes up for nothing }

{ Naturally, Mn wouldn't want his personal number leaked. So he lied. He was surprised at how smooth that was, but hey, it's text. He wanted to know more, though. Is that narcissistic?

He set his coffee mug down on his nightstand and looked a lot more like a contortionist as he continued to text, the risk of spilling coffee being gone now. }

{ Being called the best vocalist ever was certainly not something he expected. He was great, sure, but the best? Not when Freddie Mercury has music out there. But he'll take that compliment.

He was impressed at the fan. 'Achilles, my love" was one of his more niche songs, having been written when he was only 15 when he got completely shattered after reading 'The Song of Achilles' and decided to pour his heart and soul into a song which he released years later.}

{They don't know Mn yet, but who wouldn't like him after listening to Achilles my love? The way Jisung made the members listen to Mn's music was like a little kid making their parents watch Frozen. But the members never complained, the music was really good. Would they roll their eyes when Jisung keeps sending Mn memes into the groupchat? Sure. Did they have certain parts of certain songs memorized because Jisung kept watching his edits on repeat? Oh yes. }

{Mn didn't want his identity leaked. He had to think of a name quick. Chris, as in Bang Chan from Stray Kids was what came to mind. }

At the Paris Fashion Week

{Jisung found a spot away from the cameras and was texting 'Chris'. After a few months of them being 'text pals', he was pretty fond of the random citizen. But despite the sheer amount of songs, pictures, and videos he's sent of Mn, 'Chris' was never as obsessed with him as Jisung was.}

{Holding a glass of champagne in his hand and dearly missing his coffee, Mn who was decked head to toe in Hermes, makes his way over to the figure he recognized as Han Jisung of Stray Kids. How he loved that band. He was listening to Han's song 'Volcano' on the way there. As he goes to talk to him, his eyes caught onto the rapper's phone screen. And by instinct, he accidentally read a few texts. Texts that were from him. He wanted to tell Jisung, but how?}

"Hi! Huge fan, Jisung.." Jisung's eyes widened as he shoved his phone into his pocket and extended his hand for a handshake. It was his first time seeing his favorite singer in real life.

"Oh my god...you..sorry, I'm just flustered all of a sudden. I'm your biggest fan, really."

"I appreciate it. We should collab someday." "Yes!!" Was that too loud? No, right?

Mn was endeared by the enthusiasm. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and unlocked it.

"Care for a selfie?"

"I'd love to.." Jisung tried keeping his voice from sounding too loud and excited as he smiled beautifully in the selfie he took with the singer. He took one on his phone as well, along with a photo of just Mn, not being able to resist the opportunity.

A/N: I'm ending so abruptly since I have really bad writer's block rn and I didn't even know how I posted this much. If you have any ideas on how Jisung finds out he's been texting Mn all this time, then let me know in the replies or send a DM.

[shot-of-truth]

Sex Drive*

summary: basically just a threesome with luke and mgk that has been sitting in my drafts for about two years.. yes I'm horrible.

warnings: everything filthy; breeding, degradation, slapping, choking, double penetration, squirting.. the lot, you know?

word count: 8k of pure filth

Luke knew Colson long before they signed with Interscope records but he can not recall ever talking to him. What he knew though was that this man never failed to put on an amazing show and even better parties, according to their mutual friend Ashley. He heard about many of his positive traits and he tried to remember them while the lanky dude with about a hundred tattoos downed his fourth shot of tequila for that night. His best friend was a big fan of his music, that much he recalled, always blasting his newest album Hotel Diablo in the car and singing along loudly. Luke even overheard her talking about Colson releasing a vibrator as part of his Valentines Day merch, he wasn’t sure if she ever bought it… which wouldn’t surprise him though. The lead singer eyes the tall rapper talking to a few girls on the other side of the room and questions himself whether or not he should start a conversation with him, for the sake of Fleur. Luke’s christmas party is in less than a week and he just knows that Fleur would be the happiest girl on earth if he invited him. So that’s what he does, after his drink is finished he makes his way over to the man that is about as tall as he is and introduces himself.

He mentally thanks himself for deciding to come to Interscope’s Christmas party as both of them lose themselves in a chat about music and their shared love for pop punk, especially Blink-182.

That was the story of how Luke’s friendship with Colson, in the industry known as Machine Gun Kelly, started. You could leave it at that if it wasn’t for Luke’s infamous christmas party that he threw at his house every year, which Colson was invited to… of course. And that was where he met Fleur.

With her brown skin and braided hair she made her way through the hallway, carrying a few bottles of liquor that she seemed to have brought from her car. “Let me help you!” Luke spoke quickly, taking two bottles of rosé from her before kissing her cheek and telling her to make herself comfortable, which shouldn’t be too hard since she basically already lives at his place.

Colson watches the scene unfold in front of his eyes, leaning against the wall and picking his beer up for a sip. The girl that just walked in is drop dead gorgeous, in his eyes at least. He loves the way her dress hugs her curves and he absolutely fucking adores when she throws her head back to laugh at something Luke said. He picks up that she’s not wearing a bra, her nipples visible through the fabric… he swears he didn’t mean to stare, he just randomly notices. He’s a lot taller than her and it makes his cock swell just a little bit as he imagines all the dirty things he could do to her. Keeping his composure though, he walks over to his girl of the night, setting the beer down on the table and greeting her with a simple “hi!” If he didn’t look close enough he wouldn’t even have seen the excitement on her face as she looks up into his eyes. “Oh look who Luke invited..” She smirks, bringing the sparkling wine to her lips, her red lipstick leaving a stain on the glass. 

“Actually… now I’m really glad I came.” He shoots back, taking her hand and shaking it. “Colson.” He speaks, not letting her hand go until she tells him “Fleur”. After hearing her name he can’t help but think that she really does smell like a flower, like daisies actually… a soft smell, like a warm Spring day. 

It does get better though, half an hour later when both of them are lost in the crowd together, her body pressed against his, he can make out her coconut body wash under the thin layer of sweat on her neck. His hands are on her waist and he guides her to the beat, fingers digging into the flesh beneath her shirt. He feels her ass press against his crotch and he just knows that she is doing it on purpose. He leans his head down to plant a quick kiss to her neck, a satisfying sigh leaving her mouth. “We got two options, Colson. You either follow me now or I’ll find a room and a way to get myself off like I do with my vibrator.” Straight forward, no bullshit. Her hands brush against his crotch and she throws him a kiss before disappearing, leaving Colson a horny and drunken mess in the middle of the living room. Without thinking twice he finishes his drink and follows her until she opens a door at the end of the hallway and waits for him to step inside. When he does, she’s lying down on the bed, a seductive smile on her lips, just waiting for him to come over and fuck her brains out. Colson has other plans as he quietly closes the door and exhales, leaning against it and licking his lips. He watches her every move with hungry eyes, images of him filling her mouth with his cock prominent on his mind. But he’s got time tonight… more than enough. He is going to make her beg. Still leaning against the door, he moves his fingers, motioning for her to come over. His arms crossed on his chest, his gaze is fixated on her walking over to him. 

The size difference makes her heart race and she looks up into Colson’s magnificent eyes, a wave of heat taking over her body when he presses his lips to hers, testing the limits. He tastes like beer and her taste reminds him of the disgustingly sweet watermelon vodka. Fleur is standing on her tippy toes and she’s grabbing onto his shirt, Colson’s teeth lightly biting down onto her bottom lip, waiting for her to open up. Tongue licking into her mouth, he huffs quietly, squeezing her butt while he’s at it. While the two of them are making out against the wall, hands all over each other, Colson pushes his left leg forward. The fabric of his jeans meets her panties and if it wasn’t so dark he would have been able to see her mouth opening and forming an o-shape. Fleur hopes he can’t feel the damp spot on her panties against his leg, hopes she doesn’t make a mess on his ripped jeans. But when her lover for the night stares at her, breathing heavily for a few seconds before mumbling a low “fuck” and connecting their lips for a needy kiss again, all her worries are gone. Large hands still on her ass, he pulls her forward with such force she collides with his hard chest, her barely covered pussy sliding against his leg. 

He then gets a loud moan out of her, dick straining against his briefs. “Wanna be a good girl for me and get yourself off on my thigh? Wanna beg for it, slut?” Colson’s voice is needy, sexy and raw but his eyes show curiosity, as if he wants to ask her: is this okay? Do you really want to do this? Her knees almost give in when Colson calls her a slut, the humiliation having a strangely unexpected effect on her, panties now drenched in arousal. And Colson feels it, god does he love it. “Please… wanna use your thigh..” This is so fucking filthy and taboo, begging for her favorite singer to let her grind against his tattooed leg. Just when Fleur thought it could not get any better, he bites her earlobe and whispers: “want you to call me daddy if we’re gonna do it properly… know it gets you off, so… try again.” From what she can make his look out it looks challenging, he wants to see her crack, wants nothing more than for her to fall right into euphoria because of him. All of this already feels too good to be true but when she moans “daddy please… need your thigh” he breaks and pushes his leg up, right against her clit while holding her in place with his strong arms. Her moans are music to his ears while both of them start grinding against each other, rolling away from the door and onto the wall, him slowly feeling a wet patch forming on his blue jeans. 

Both of them are so caught up in one another, bodies tangled together, sounds of pleasure falling from their lips, they don’t even notice the door opening and a perplexed Luke standing in the hallway. His eyes are bloodshot and he looks helpless, red stained shirt that used to be white clinging to his body. “Fuck I’m… shit..” he stammers, catching Colson’s attention. Luke’s heart feels like it’s going a million miles an hour when he locks eyes with his best friend being held up by one of his co-workers… if you can call him that. He hates that he gets hard just from looking at her messy hair and smudged make-up. But what he hates the most is that the size difference between the two of them makes him break into a sweat, imagining if she’d also look this small on his lap. Right now Luke is really fucking thankful for the lack of lighting in his room because he’s certain they would have both seen his bulge. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, trying not to look at her exposed lace thong that is now visible since her dress has ridden up. “I just… new shirt..” His voice comes out dry and he mentally facepalms himself for not being able to bring out a normal sentence as he points at the wine-stain on his shirt. “Come in… close the door.” Colson orders, surprising both him and Fleur. A new thought formed in his head just a few seconds ago, something even more filthy than making her beg for his cock. He wants to see her beg for two cocks, he wants her to be absolutely fucking wrecked by the end of the night. Kells has never been one to share his girls but right now he just could not give a single fuck, unable to form a coherent thought. The younger one hurries to close the door and make his way over to his closet, pulling out a random shirt. He’s unaware of the four eyes watching him as he takes off his dirty shirt, Fleur having climbed down from Colson’s lap and sneaking over to her best friend. His skin is kind of sweaty and hot but she doesn’t mind when reaching her hand out to trace her nails down his back, examining his broad shoulders. The girl immediately picked up where this was going when Colson pressed his hard on against her tummy the moment Luke had closed the door. He wanted this and she wanted Luke, young, innocent Luke, as well as the rapper with his dominant attitude.

The two of them could not be more different if they tried, Colson’s skin splattered with ink while Luke’s remained pure and creamy white. Their personalities are completely different but the thought of Luke having a kinky side to him that she doesn’t know about makes her stomach twirl and do backflips. Colson does not have Luke’s broad shoulders but he’s just as tall as the 22 year old, the two of them easily towering over Fleur. 

All of them notice the dim light in the corner of the room that Luke turned on when looking for his shirt. It illustrates his skin when Fleur touches him, goosebumps rising on his arms. “Stay.” She whispers, fingertips on his bare back, caressing him. His eyes are closed while he rubs them, certain he’s had one too many this night because this can’t be happening. It’s simply not possible that Fleur is hugging him from behind now, arms wrapped around his torso. Before he can process what’s happening, she has him turned around, curls dangling in his face. He nervously looks over to Colson and sees him taking his shirt off, the tattoos looking like a second skin. What he also notices is that the other guy in the room does not have an ounce of body fat, he’s like a fucking spaghetti noodle. And it makes Luke feel a little bit insecure, being exposed to both of them. It’s all gone from his mind when she kisses his collarbone while standing on her tippy toes, she can’t get higher than this. Her lips are so soft and it makes Luke’s knees buckle just the slightest bit, especially when she kisses down towards his nipples, flicking her tongue over the right one. Her wet muscle dances over his skin, down to his belly button and she can taste the red wine on his skin, which someone had splashed over his shirt just a few minutes ago. 

At this point she is kneeling on the floor in front of him, knees digging into the soft carpet, marvelous eyes digging into his as she gazes up at him through her eyelids. Luke could swear he forgets how to breathe that very moment because now he can definitely sense where this is going and he clearly fucking likes it. “You little whore… got Luke all hard and now you’re being a fucking tease? I don’t think that’s nice at all.” Colson’s voice catches both of them off guard, he is a lot closer than he was just a minute ago, standing behind Fleur. She just licks her lips and tries not to let Luke see how turned on she is from being treated with little to no respect from the older man… so pathetic. Suddenly he grabs her hair with just a bit of force and pulls it, making him look up to her. “Fucking answer me when I talk to you, toy.” His voice is dripping with lust and he sounds dangerous, his gaze though is examining her body language to make sure she’s alright. “Yes daddy.. I- I’ll make it up… to him.” Luke is fucking shocked when he sees her smiling after mouthing the word ‘daddy’ with a bittersweet voice, his jaw falling open, cock thickening even more. He needs attention and he needs it there. Even though he is not so sure if he’d be able to contain himself now that he has his gorgeous best friend on her knees for him and his friend calling her a slut. He keeps quiet. Before Fleur can process it, Colson is bending down and grabbing her jaw, making her whine. “You better.” Colson says calmly and then he slaps her cheek, not too hard but enough to make the slap echo through Luke’s bedroom. “Mouth open” he then instructs, Fleur obeying him. Before any of them can comprehend what he‘s trying to do, he has collected some saliva and he‘s spitting it right into Fleur‘s awaiting mouth. 

It‘s only when Luke whines quietly, being so fucking turned on it hurts, that both of his friends are reminded of his presence. Colson wants to speak for him, wants to tell the gorgeous woman with the braids in her hair to take Luke‘s cock into her mouth already when Luke speaks, his voice laced with neediness. “Will you take my cock into your mouth, babygirl? Be a good girl for us?” He swears he doesn’t think straight when his thumb reaches out and caresses the sore skin on her cheek that Colson slapped a minute prior. Fleur presses her thighs together to get some sort of friction because now she’s basically dripping down her legs. There’s something about Colson being rough with her, demanding and dominant, but Luke praising her and calling her babygirl and good girl. Maybe that’s just what she needs, someone pushing her limits and someone else reassuring her. Her best friend opens his fly, pushing his jeans down just a bit, she waits impatiently. He’s wearing briefs and Fleur can see the outline of his dick, painfully hard. “Give it a kiss, lovie.” Luke mumbles, playing with her hair. So that’s what she does, she kisses him through his boxers, her tongue wetting the fabric, licking over his head where she swears she can taste just a little bit of pre-cum. Fleur’s hands slowly pull Luke’s briefs down, cock springing free. He’s hard and heavy and he hisses when it hits the rather cold air. 

“Get naked.” Colson orders from the bed, palming himself through his pants, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. The woman wants to reach for the hem of her dress when Luke already pulls it off of her, careful as to not rip it. She pulls her drenched thong off of her legs and before she can stop herself, she throws it over on the bed, next to Colson’s head, a cheeky smile on her face. He grabs it immediately, an animalistic growl leaving his lips. “God you fucking whore… dripping for both our cocks?” He doesn’t expect an answer when he lies down on the bed, sniffing her panties. Fleur instead looks up to Luke, his skin red. His dick is about an inch away from her face, average in size but rather thick. The veins running up his shaft are downright sinful, not to mention his pretty pink head. She wraps her hand around it, her tongue licking over his balls, a quiet moan coming from Luke. She never thought she’d be in this position, on her knees for her best friend. Luke on the other hand fantasized about this many times before, preferably in the middle of the night, with his slicked up cock fucking in and out of his fist. 

She collects his pre-cum and lubes up his dick with it, slowly jerking him off while putting his balls in her mouth, swirling her tongue around them. Luke thinks she looks content, batting her eyelashes at him. So he moans, a devilish combination with her slurping sounds and her fingers moving around his wet cock. It’s so fucking hot, not just metaphorically. To Fleur it feels like the temperature has risen to around 100° Fahrenheit since Luke has entered the room, her hair slightly sweaty as the curly haired man carefully gathers it in his hands so it wouldn’t fall in her face and get in her way. She listens closely and hears Colson moaning quietly while she kisses the head of Luke’s cock. Trying not to think about her glistening pussy being on full display to Colson, she licks Luke’s pretty dick up and down, his body reacting immediately. He fists her hair tighter when she finally takes him in, her warm, wet mouth engulfing him… and Luke has a hard time not cumming on the spot, thinking about what her pussy would feel like if her mouth is already heaven on earth. A pornographic moan leaves his mouth and Kells can’t help but smile, excited for what this night has in store for him and the others. The gagging sounds coming from the beautiful girl kneeling on the floor, combined with her spitting on Luke’s cock every now and then make the rapper throb. She has him so fucking deep in her throat, Luke just has to pull her away after a few minutes and kiss her forehead, out of breath. Tears are streaming down her face while she sniffles and gives him the cutest smile someone could give after taking a dick down their throat. His stomach almost does back-flips from her simple gesture, his thumb wiping her tears away and a whisper leaving his mouth: “So good to me, baby… took me so well, I loved it.” He holds on for a second, thumb swiping over her bottom lip, her warm mouth allowing him in. “Think she deserves a reward, am I right Kells?”

His shy smile turns into a confident smirk as he watches Colson get up from his previous position and walk over to the two of them. Before Fleur can even register what is happening, he is kneeling down behind them, licking a stripe up her soaking pussy, all the way from her clit to her entrance, her legs almost giving up and making her drop to the ground but Luke catches her, holds her hair and presses his lips to hers. Fleur’s eyes are shut in pleasure, little mewls escaping her slightly opened mouth, going over right into Luke. Colson is gripping her hips so tight that she’s sure she will find his handprints on them later in the night when she’s all by herself again, eyeing herself in the massive bathroom mirror. His tongue softly presses against her clit, face buried between her legs as he gets a taste of her. Luke can see that his friend is hard behind her, boxers pulled down to his ankles. 

Colson’s fingers find her entrance after eating her out for a good five minutes and he slowly inserts one finger, examining her reaction as she throws her head back, mouth opening. He’s sitting down behind her, one hand slowly pleasuring her, other one pulling her back by her hair so she’s settling down on his lap. The younger man has a smirk on his lips as he sits down in front of his best friend and loosely wraps his hand around her throat, making her teary eyes look up at him. He kisses her softly before licking his thumb and slowly bringing it to her clit, earning a soft sigh from her. The combination from both Colson and Luke pleasuring her is too much for Fleur, nails digging into Luke’s shoulder, trying to hold on to something as her body shakes. “What a dirty fucking whore.” Colson mumbles in her ear, right as he lets go of her hair and slaps her rosy cheek. Once, twice.

In her hazy mind, she notices Colson’s fingers disappearing and Luke’s slowly rubbing over her clit, slowly sending her over the edge and making her let out a pornographic moan, legs shaking. It feels like heaven to her. “Yeah, let go baby… sound so pretty when you cum for us… such a good girl.” In her overstimulated mind she notices lips on her neck, kissing and nibbling on that sweet spot that leaves her legs shaking as she’s coming down from her high. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke sees Kells still stroking himself behind her, hand on her hip. “Mind if I have a taste?” He asks the older one, as if Fleur isn’t even present, as if she has no say in this… and it turns her on so much. “All yours, man,” Kells smirks and steps back a little, leaving enough room for the singer to get behind his best friend and trace his finger over her soft thighs. A shiver runs down her spine and she jerks away from him at first, the sensitivity of her first orgasm still washing over her. “Aw baby, know you’re so sensitive… but I’m dying to taste you, need to have you right now.” With that, Luke picks her up and gently throws her on the bed that Colson is already sitting on. He’s fully naked now and for a quick moment Luke checks out all his tattoos that seem like a second layer of skin. “Lu, please…” His best friend is slowly grinding against nothing, her pussy so fucking wet in front of him, she’s almost dripping onto his bedsheets. 

The sound of her breathy moans and pleas has his dick impossibly harder between his legs, throbbing for her… but she has to wait, cause Luke reaaally loves hearing her beg, he decides. “Please what?” He mocks her, slowly settling between her thighs, rubbing the inside of it. “N-need you.” A slap echoes through the room, before Colson speaks. “Speak up bitch, how is Luke supposed to know what you n-n-need when you can’t even form a proper sentence, huh?” His big hand rubs the slightly sore skin on her cheek and she swears she has never been more turned on in her entire life, Luke still kissing right next to where she needs him the most, teasing the shit out of her. “So fucking pathetic, you didn’t even get our cocks yet and you’re still fucking dripping for us…so cock drunk you can’t even speak properly.” Luke settles down on the bed finally, placing her legs over his shoulders before kissing the inside of her thigh again. His blue eyes look up at Fleur, tears of frustration in her eyes and it has him concerned for a teeny tiny bit until she reaches her breaking point and blurts out: “Lick me Lu, pleaaaase.” He dives in immediately, like a starved man eating his first meal in a long time, devours her pussy. His hands hold her legs open and his tongue laps up all her juices, while she’s fisting the duvet behind her, arching her back in the most sinful way. Everything feels so fucking good right now and when she looks for just a second she sees Luke grinding against his sheets while he sucks on her little bundle of nerves. On top of that, he fucking moans against her, the vibrations making her let out a loud scream.

She’s close already, can feel her second orgasm of the night creeping up somewhere deep inside of her. Absentmindedly, her hands tangle in Luke’s hair and give it a hard thug and she expected everything but the fucking whimper that came out of his mouth, telling her, without any words, to do it again and again and again… so she does, fisting his hair and rocking her hips against him while he sucks on her clit, so hard it has stars dancing in front of her eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He licks her through her orgasm, moaning loudly as well. He doesn’t stop until she’s whining, crying and shaking for him to stop. Kells is still sitting behind them, hand in Fleurs hair while he strokes himself lazily. 

She’s coming down slowly, breathing heavily and looking for the two men in the room with her. “How do you want us?” Kells asks, suddenly next to her. Fleur is dizzy, needy and aching to finally be filled. Trying to articulate a sentence, to let both of them know that they could do whatever the fuck they want to her as long as their hands don’t leave her sweaty hot skin, she fails miserably. The only thought prominent on her mind right now being her idol and her best friends using her body in downright filthy ways, at the same time, in whichever way they choose. Soft lips close in on her nipple, the sudden cold wetness a contrast to her hot skin. With her eyes slowly opening, Fleur notices Luke to her right, his fingers stroking his rock hard cock while Kells on her left side is desperately trying to draw her attention back to him by digging his hands into her side, grabbing her hard as he sucks on her most sensitive spot. 

“Poor baby, look fucked she is Luke.. maybe we should just leave. Think we’ve been super generous today, haven’t we? Two orgasms should be plenty.” His tone suggests that Colson does not plan on being anywhere near done with his new prized possession, Fleur however, in her fucked out state, does not seem too okay with the possibility of not getting what she was singing up for all along. “Nooo, please sir.” Her voice comes out raspy, an aftermath of swallowing down Luke’s dick not too long ago. A quiet “need more” follows right after, hands reaching out to Kells and Luke on either side of her. The two singers immediately make eye contact as a soft chuckle forms on the younger one's lips. “Aren’t you a little selfish, baby?” His usually honeysweet voice seems to be dripping with evil intentions. “You only take, take, take… look at Kells. Have you touched him at all tonight, huh? Bet he’s been dying to stuff you with his cock all night and you have just given him zero attention.” Knowing looks are being exchanged between the two males, as if they have done this sort of thing a million times before. “Honestly Luke, why am I even asking? Pretty sure Fleur is gonna be a good little slut for us and take us however we want her.” 

It’s dark in the room, however the rapper does not miss the shiver that runs through Fleur’s body at his words. He waits for a signal, anything to let him know he was wrong about his assumption and nothing follows except the quietest moan… he’s done for. Crashing his lips onto hers like it’s the last thing he would ever fucking do in his life, Colson takes control again, pressing Fleurs tiny body deeper into the mattress. The little whispers between the two men go unnoticed by her, so does Luke grabbing certain objects from his nightstand. “Look at me.” She watches Kells rip open a condom with his teeth before taking a first closer look at his massive dick resting between her thighs, the last bit of dominance that was still within her slowly withering away. What the fuck did she get herself into here? “I can’t wait to fuck that tight little pussy, ruin it for everyone but us.” “Next time you even think about going over to Matt’s house, I bet you’ll only be thinking about this. Will just get disappointed by everyone but us, will forever think about this-” Luke drags the last word out with his hands around her throat. Him bringing up the hookup with one of their mutual friends stings and she is about to say something before catching herself again. She is at their mercy and scolding her best friend right now when he has been nothing but an angel to her all night does not seem fair to her, not even in the headspace she is in right now. 

Not with the stickiness of her two previous orgasms and her momenteral arousal slicking up her thighs and sore entrance. Contracting her pussy around the cool air in Luke’s room, she would not dare disobey any of them right now, just needing to be filled. Having waited so long for the past hour, she closes her eyes in anticipation, goosebumps decorating her brown skin. “Babydoll, look at daddy when he stuffs you with his cock,” Luke whispers, hand slowly stroking his dick and watching the scenario in front of him play out. His other hand holds Fleurs head up, wrapped around her throat so the woman can easily watch as the second man in the room pushes forward, engulfing himself in her wet heat. 

The moan that leaves her lips is straight-up pornographic- loud, needy and echoing around the room. So erotic that Kells loses himself in it, the sound going straight to his aching dick that is being gripped by Fleurs tight cunt like a viper grabs her victim. Ready to devour him and so deliciously full of him, none of them notice they are holding their breath until he breathes out “Holy shit, god. You feel so fucking tight.” Gushing around him it’s like he can feel her heartbeat even through the condom as he gives his first thrust deep into her. “That’s it, baby. Taking him so well,” Luke whispers into her ear, simultaneously wiping the tears that run down her cheek away. Fleur feels so positively full with Kells’ head bumping directly into her cervix and giving her that sweet sting she knew she’d feel as soon as she laid eyes on him. She can’t control the tears of pleasure that stream from her eyes as he sets a brutal pace while Luke holds her fragile body in place. It feels as if there are hands all over her body, touching her, feeling her, pleasuring her. 

She’s floating somewhere up there, she’s sure of it as Colson suddenly stills all the way inside of her to catch his breath, dick throbbing. Her legs wrapped around his waist shake, pulling him in closer. She doesn’t mean to, never ever, but with everything going on right in front of her she doesn’t realize Luke leaves his spot. Doesn’t realize he hands Colson the bottle of lube, who slowly pulls out of her. “Ride me, angel.” Luke demands from next to her, laying down on his mattress. “Yes sir.” Fleur replies, just needing that feeling of being full again. Her entire body aches from the previous orgasms, her thighs burning as she swings her leg over Luke’s muscular thighs, straddling him quickly. “Keep calling me sir and we might just fill up that pretty little pussy, darling.” An involuntary moan slips past her lips at the thought, her wet lips slowly sliding over Luke’s erection that pressed up against his stomach. He hisses and throws his head back the same moment Kells gathers Fleurs hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulls on it- enough to make it sting and inevitably enough to get her attention. “You better stop teasing right fucking now and sit on his dick, do you understand me?” 

Luke’s hands dig into her hips, making sure to leave marks that will be visible to anyone that tries to touch their little brat for the next few days. The thought makes his heart race, both in anticipation and anxiety… remains of him, her best fucking friend, and Colson being on her body as another guy enjoys her the way they are doing right now. All his senses are on high alert, skin feeling on fire as Fleur positions him against her entrance and slowly sinks down on his cock, juices coating him and pooling around his base. In his fucked out state he just now realizes he never thought of grabbing a condom and he wants to say something, it’s a thought slowly making its way from the back of his mind to the front, threatening to spill past his lips until- 

“Fuck Luke…” It’s not the pet name she’s been using all night, it’s not for Kells’ enjoyment, it’s only meant for him as his dick pulses inside of her wet, warm cunt. His best friend gasps, hands tangling in the singers damp curls and it feels like heaven to him, so snug around him he can feel her fucking heartbeat against his dick. “M-Move, flower.” Colsons lips capture hers as she slowly starts moving, making sure to go all the way up until he almost slips out, teasing him, before sliding back down on his thick erection. All those years of them being friends and she just now asks herself why the hell they haven’t done this sooner? When he looks so ethereal below her. The curls, the full, plump lips of his, everything about him screaming angelic. Whereas the man next to her with his fully tattooed body and mean demeanor gets her off just the same, his hand now grabbing her neck as he settles in behind her. The pace she settles for is slow, almost torture for the blonde on the bottom who just feels like he needs more. More of her wetness coating his dick, more of the moans she tries to stifle everytime he’s deep inside her. The good friend act, the fucking soft act he’s kept up all evening is wearing thin but what finally pushes him over the edge is when she chuckles, almost fucking laughs at him shuddering when she lets his dick almost slip out and the cool air hits his sensitive tip. 

Her face is buried in his neck, not being able to read his facial expression. Colson however grins to himself, visibly noticing Luke’s whole demeanor change. In one swift motion, Luke pulls Fleur down until she’s flush against him, his dick pressing hard against her cervix. A loud moan echoes through the room, thighs trembling against him. She tries to move away from him, her best friend being too fucking deep inside of her but both Luke and Colson are keeping her in place. “I’ve fucking had it with you. If you wanna act like a brat I will fuck you like one.” “You’re too nice for that.” And she almost instantly regrets it the moment the six words leave her mouth. Based on the expression on Luke’s face she knew he wasn’t playing from the beginning but now she’s really in for it and she’s almost positive Colson and Luke will both ensure she afeels pleasure like she’s never felt it before. 

“See, babygirl. We were gonna be nice, you know…” Luke’s voice is dangerously calm and it has her on edge. She opens her mouth to say something but just the shake of his head makes her decide against it. And suddenly she hates how obedient she is in his lap, dick still filling her to the brim. He sits up, face now inches away from hers and she can make out his darkened eyes. You could hear a pin drop in the room right now, the atmosphere tense. One sound, a cap being popped open behind her makes her aware of the other person in the room being much closer than she thought he was, wanting to turn around but Luke captures her face with his right hand. “Eyes on me.” A whine builds up in her throat, her hips slowly grinding against him because it’s painful how wet and desperate she is at this point. She wishes Luke would just fuck her, do something, anything and she wishes Colson would let her suck his dick while Luke pounds into her. “We were gonna be nice and take you one at a time. Didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed… but baby, tell me. What’s the point of having two dicks in the same room as you if you don’t have both of them inside of you at the same time?”

It’s like her heart skips a beat as her mind drifts to places she’s never explored before. She wants to tell him no, that’s too much. She could barely handle Colson abusing her little pussy, how was she supposed to take both of them at the same time? But Fleur looks at Luke and behind his hard expression his eyes soften a little. He’s her best friend who has known her for years. Why would he do anything to her he knew she couldn’t handle? Luke’s got some dark thoughts that he plans on executing within the next hour but he’s not a monster, far from it actually. Meanwhile Colson settles in behind her, softly kissing her neck all the way from her ear down to her shoulders as his hot breath fans over her skin. His tattooed arm wraps around her and grabs her left boob, teeth slightly sinking into her collarbone. If it wasn’t for this short distraction she surely would have noticed his head nudging her hole, about to press in, right next to Luke’s dick already inside of her. He hisses next to her ear, a guttural groan following immediately after once he pushes in, her pussy impossibly tighter this time. “O-oh my ffuuu-“ It dies in her throat, not that she could have said more anyways as Luke pulls his best friend down, kissing her passionately and pulling her flush against his chest so it’s easier for Colson to reach deeper.

He’s nestled right in there, stilling for a second before Luke pushes up, hands holding Fleur in place by her ass so he can move alongside his new, tall friend. “Holy fucking shit, that feels good,” Kells breathes out quietly. “Isn’t that little pussy squeezing us so tight, Luke?” He sounds completely fucked, his head pressing right against that spot that has their girl of the night seeing stars. She can’t think straight, pain and pleasure overtaking every other sensation she could be feeling that very moment. But Luke is holding her so tight and whispering sweet nothings in her ear, kissing her head and pushing her hair to the side so it would not interfere with her breathing. “Best one I ever had, Kells. Such a good little whore for us, aren’t you baby?” It’s more like a rhetorical question since he knows his best friend is too far gone to answer with anything but a lewd moan anyways. One hand presses down on her stomach, almost making her cum right then and there. They establish a diabolic rhythm, one of them pulling back while the other drives themselves deeper and deeper into her dripping cunt over and over again. It’s excruciating and Fleur feels like she’s on fire, her orgasm building and building as she’s being fucked at a slow pace but with determination from both of them. It’s like their hands are all over her and she probably couldn’t tell which ones belong to who, just that someone feels her shake and sob against the younger ones chest and decides to rub the swollen bud between her legs, dripping wet. Right where she wanted it the most this entire time. “Gonna cum on our cocks, huh? Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to actually be properly fucked?” It’s like Luke can’t control what he says, his best friends pussy and Colson rubbing against him making it way harder not to cum on the spot. But he needs to hold on, desperately needs to see the look on her face when she cums first. “Y-yes sir.. yes daddy.. please please l-let me.” Fleur whimpers, so fucking close and just waiting for their permission to tip right over the edge. A harsh smack being delivered to her left asscheek by Colson is exactly what does it in combination with their dicks hitting her cervix once again, his thumb still rubbing circles over her and Luke stilling inside of her, digging her nails into her waist. 

Her pussy pulsing and squeezing him is almost enough for him to shoot his load into her, and a lot of it. Calming himself down, he breathes in and out heavily, trying so hard not to think about the way her eyes squeeze shut and- wetness coating his thighs? A dark chuckle follows from behind, followed by Colson pulling out of her slowly, his dick still rock hard. “Did you just fucking squirt on us baby? Made a proper mess on Luke’s damn bed, didn’t you?” Luke lifts her up gently, sliding out of her- much to her dismay which she lets him know with a quiet whine, suddenly feeling so empty. “I’m sorry bro, but I need to taste her.. am dying to stuff my face in that cunt and taste how fucking sweet she is.” Colson lets them know, more directed at Luke than Fleur. “No, I c-can’t… sens-sensitive.” She tries to argue but to no avail, Colson’s mind is made up. “Shhh princess, Kells just wants a little taste.” He turns her around on him, her backside now against his chest while the rapper kneels down between both their legs. The moment his tongue comes in contact with her clit she’s thrashing around on top of him, trying to get away from the tall man who has his face buried in her pussy, lapping up her juices. Luke holds her in place, kisses her head and inhales the scent of her freshly washed hair while watching the scenario in front of him unfold. While he is glad for this little distraction to recover for a minute or two, his dick is still painfully hard and throbbing, Fleurs ass moving against it not making it much better. 

Stars dance in front of her eyes as the woman tries to control her breathing, too overwhelmed with Colson sucking and moaning against her. “If you don’t stop fucking moving, Luke and I will coax another five orgasms out of you, I don’t give a damn if that means we’ll be here all fucking night.” His tone is mean, demanding and almost threatening. “If I wanna taste our pussy, you will let me.” With that he is back to devouring her, nails digging into her soft thighs and leaving marks behind. What scares her the most is not another orgasm, it’s the fact that the orgasm is being delivered by no one other than her favorite singer who already made her explode on his dick before. And if she does that again in his face, she might as well just dig her own grave. Little does Fleur know that is just what he has been trying to achieve all along, fingers slipping inside of her and expertly finding her sweet spot. Her soft cries of overstimulation mix with the wet slurping sounds of his mouth, sucking and licking all over her. “Can feel you squeezing my finger, you wanna make a mess all over daddy again?” He speaks, breath fanning over her oh so sensitive clit. “N-no Ke-Kells, I-” Instantly a quick slap is being delivered to her thigh, the sting traveling up to her already sensitive pussy. “That’s not my name. Try again.” And she is so close, the muscles in her lower abdomen contracting as she grinds against Kells’ face, just wanting that one final push that he delivers with his mouth closing around her most sensitive area and his ring- and middle finger curling inside her. “Daddy!” It hits Fleur like a train, ears ringing, muscles spasming and liquid gushing out of her once again. Over the bed, over his fingers, over Luke, over Kells’ face. Helping her ride out her orgasm, the older man of the two kisses her thighs softly, rubbing the rest of her arousal all over pussy

“I know you’re so sensitive right now baby, I get it. But I think Kells and I really really wanna fill you up. Gonna let us use that pretty cunt one last time? Been dying to cum in you.” Hazy eyes stare up at him and even though it feels hard for her to move, four orgasms really taking a toll on the poor girl, she nods. That’s what she has been fantasizing about all night, since Luke walked into the room to discard his wine stained shirt, leaving all his girls and the few girls lusting over him out in his living room. “Need to hear you say it, lovie.” He’s gentle this time. His tip, covered in precum, nudging against her opening and just waiting for her verbal confirmation. “Need you Lu… need you Kells.” It’s barely a whisper but Luke lets it slide, coating himself in her arousal once more before pushing in from below her, Fleurs back still against his chest.

Kells wraps his hand around her neck, gently now, making her watch his long, hard dick sliding into her for the last time that night. He comes to think that she looks so tiny like this, sandwiched between the two skinny 6’3 tall men, the thought alone bringing him close to filling her up like he’s been wanting to for hours. It does not help that he can see their outlines, a slight bulge in her lower belly from the two cocks stretching her out. He thinks he’s done for, losing the rhythm he settled in with Luke, breathing quickening. “Gonna fuck that cum so deep into you.” He growls, tightening his hold on her neck. Fleur tries to reply, tries to focus on the pleasure of him still being inside of her but nothing is working anymore. Everything hurts in a good way and she knows that there is no way she’s going back out to that party later. She knows that this time they really can’t force another orgasm out of her fragile body, not that she needs it. Fleur just needs to feel their cum inside of her, dripping out of her, the soreness for the next few days, all of it. Even Luke is barely holding on by a thread, stilling inside of her and just letting his coworker push in past him, rubbing so deliciously against both of them. “Holy shit. Gonna put our babies inside of you, baby, yeah? You want that?” Luke has no idea what came over him but it seems to be affecting her when she clenches around them and lets out a pornographic moan.

Luke cums first, having edged himself all night, and coats her walls with spurts of cum, seemingly never ending. The whine that leaves his mouth is downright sinful and so so hot to her ears as it mixes with Colsons sounds of pleasure. “Fuck fuck fuck” He breathes out loudly, releasing right after and burying himself in her to the hilt. Thick ribbons of cum fill up her vagina, an evidence of both of them actually being there… an evidence that she actually just fucked her idol and best friend at the same time. For a short period of time she registers nothing until a warm, wet cloth brings her back to reality, both of them kneeling down between her thighs and staring at her with a worried expression. “There you are love… did so well for us. Took us like a champ, we’re so proud of you.” Luke presses a soft kiss to her nose as the other man wipes off the residue of them from her thighs. “Gonna kick everyone out,” he mumbles, more to Kells than to her. “You staying with her?” It’s supposed to be a question but the way he words it leaves no option for no.

The second Luke puts on his pants and a fresh shirt, Colson pulls the blanket over her naked frame, letting her cuddle into his side. 

“Sleep. We’ll be there when you wake up.” 

[solarwynd]

https://x.com/BTSBILLIONSCLUB/status/1818072379118981300?t=cjUGN08NX7ARww0YG_YorA&s=19

To all the people saying "Armys don't care about hyung line, they just care about maknae line", you know what? You're right, that's absolutely true. But the real question is: What are you gonna do about it? That has been the case for 11 years now, are you gonna keep crying for another decade? Maybe it's time for people to accept that armys are and have always been a heavily biased fandom, and if that pisses you off so bad then leave, cause we all know is not gonna change. Years of complaining have never fixed the issue, in fact, it's only gotten worse. Most of the group's golden years are behind them, and the tendency is for solo work to take up more and more space as time goes on. There's no fixing the problem at this point, so either accept it or leave. 'Real army' this, 'fake army' that, have you considered that if the vast majority of your fandom is and has been a certain way since the very beginning, then maybe that's what the 'real' version of your fandom is? Have you considered that maybe the 'real army' is a fandom that doesn't care about the members equally? Cause the real version can't be the minority, and maybe that minority are the ones who are in the wrong place here. All groups have this problem, so I don't know why some people thought armys were gonna be the magical exception where fans somehow managed to equally like 7 different people. If anything, they should consider themselves lucky that there are multiple members fans care about, cause it could've been just one like it happens to a lot of other groups.

And if I wanna be real controversial here, what if I say that BTS themselves are partially to blame for this? You get the fandom you get based on what you offer, and if you offer an unbalanced group, you're gonna get an unbalanced fandom. Cause let's be honest here, BTS is a vocalist group with rappers in it. Like when a singer has a rapper as a feature in their song, sure, the song has a rapper in it, but you wouldn't call it a rap song. That's what BTS's music has been like since they changed their sound way back in 2015, and it has only gotten more pronounced over the years. Especially when you consider a lot of fandom is from 2020 and after. You really think you're gonna get rap fans with songs like Dynamite and Butter? If BTS wants a rap fandom maybe they should start making rap music. And no, one rap line song every album is not gonna cut it. And as armys love to say, rap line is in charge of their music, so who's to blame for this if not them? They knew they were not gonna get big if they continued with their inicial plan of trying to be a hip-hop idol group, so they changed it. That's the choice they made. If they made their bed, then they can lie in it. Rap line will get no sympathy from me. And as for Jin? You give nothing, you get nothing.

Maknae line is the reason the group has as many fans as they do, so they're gonna have all the popularity. If we wanna get specific, then this is how it goes. Jungkook being given way more lines, screentime and dance center that everybody else was inevitably gonna result in him being popular, let's not act clueless. Taehyung realized he was in a k-pop group which means you just need fans to like looking at you to be popular, so he stoped acting silly, got all serious and mysterious, double down on the fanservice, and got more popular because of it. Jimin worked his ass off with whatever little he was given and it payed off for him. Especially now in the solo era with him being the only maknae line member actually putting in effort to make good music. So if people listen to his music more than other's, then good, he deserves it.

The point is, armys are the fandom they are and the fandom they were made to be. There's nothing unexpected going on here, some people just can't accept reality and prefer to instead subject all of us to their whining and I'm way past being over it.

.🎯

[bethelighthalazia]

Obliviously obvious

Summary:  Your friends tease you and Changbin until one of them takes it a little too far.

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader

Word Count:  1194

Warnings: none

networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

[note: this has been requested by @dinossaurz. I hope you like it <3 not beta’d]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

“Why don't you tell him, y/nnie?” Jeongin asked you for the probably hundredth time. Your friend knew about your feelings for Changbin and when he found you watching his hyung once again, the younger one tried to talk you into confessing to the rapper. “Because he would never feel the same, Innie. I'm not his type, believe me.” Was your answer, completely unaware of the feelings Changbin had developed for you ever since you became their choreographer. Some of the other boys noticed and it seemed like they made it into their personal mission to make you confess.

A few days later, you were sitting in the practice room with all the boys. You´re watching the dance practice to see where the guys can improve and what they did very well. While doing so, Minho was peeling some oranges for you and his members, handing you some of the pieces, but Changbin took them before you could, causing your best friend to shoot a glare at the younger male. “No no, hyung, y/nnie doesn't like the white stuff around it.” He mumbled and proceeded to peel the pith off of the orange slices before then handing them over to you. For you, this altercation was something normal, after all, the two of you are best friends, the others though, they just stare at you for a few moments. 

“She doesn't like the white stuff, eh?” Hyunjin asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows, but then chuckled. “It's the pith of the orange. It has a name and it's not ‘white stuff’, Binnie.” Changbin was about to give a snarky remark, but a look from Chan lets everyone go quiet again to focus on the video. When you finished your orange, you got up again and smiled, looking at the boys. “Should we try again? Jisung, you have to be a little faster, or else you could hit Minho. And you, Hyunjin, please calm those hips, yes? Yongbok is not a strip pole,” you chuckled, getting in position while the others gather around. “Oh, Binnie, your shoelaces are loose.” Again, some of the others shot you and Changbin a glance, who thanked you with a smile and crouched down to tie it properly again. 

A few hours later after practice, you all were gathered in the dorms, the boys usually invited you even though you were ‘only’ one of the background dancers and their choreographer, but you had such a close bond to them all by now. One of them actually fell in love with you over time; Changbin. And if he knew that your heart beats faster for him too, it would be a lot easier. 

You found yourself sitting next to him again, casually chatting while you all waited for the food, you were having a bbq together, and the others were watching you two with an amazed expression. It was very obvious for everyone that the two of you were head over heels for the other, just neither of you seemed to realize that. While you and Changbin were talking about music, he was casually cutting some meat for you and putting it on your plate, he even offered you some with his chopsticks that you ate without thinking about it. “Will you wipe her mouth too, hyung?” Han asked in a joking manner, a grin plastered all over his face, he just couldn't resist teasing.

“Yah, I could ask Minho hyung the same, Jisung!” Changbin hissed, his face covered in a light blush. It wasn't that he wouldn't want to do it, but it probably would be a bad idea, after all he doesn't know if you would be comfortable with it. “Huh, me?” The older one asked with a raised eyebrow, head tilted while looking at both of you, your face flustered as well. “I'm not the one shooting heart eyes to our choreographer.” Minho's words caused you to look up, blinking slowly. You hadn't really listened to them, but a chuckle from some of the others had pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I- I don't!” Changbin tried to defend himself, but the stutter and the blushing did not help at all. A laugh coming from the other end of the table let everyone perk up, looking at Seungmin who was the source of it. “We all have eyes, hyung! You're so obvious, it's a miracle that y/nnie hasn't noticed already. Even Hyunjin knows that you fell for her! Well, she hasn't noticed tho, otherwise she'd have confessed to you already…”

These words caused two pairs of chopsticks to drop onto the table with a clattering noise that cut the deep silence of the others. Your eyes wide, you tried to process what happened just now, your heart thumping hard in your chest. Did Seungmin say Changbin likes you? This probably was just a joke, right? Even Jisung sat there, silently staring at the two of you, jaw dropped. Only then, Seungmin realized that he possibly either has caused a big fight, or he has helped you, not entirely sure yet what it would be. 

Changbin on the other hand just sat there, swallowing hard as he looked down at his hands. Should he just seize the moment? What if you don't like him like this? He could lose his best friend, just because his heart had to find its way to you. 

“Binnie?” You asked quietly, blinking as you tried to process the situation right now. “Is- is that true?” The others just look at you two, Chan already mentally preparing himself to intervene if necessary while Minho shoots Seungmin a glare, the younger one praying that he didn't just destroy a friendship here.

After a few more minutes of silence, in which everyone is just staring at Changbin and you, the rapper then exhales slowly, fumbling with his pocket for a bit before pulling out an envelope. “Uhm…yeah. I- I actually wanted to- to ask you out, but-” He starts, his hand shaky as he puts the envelope on the table, his face deeply flustered. “Uhm…there's a carnival in town and I know you like those, so…I wanted to ask you to go there with me and then…you know…tell you-” Seeing him this flustered brought a deep blush onto your face as well, your heart beating so loud in your chest, you'd swear that the others could hear it too.

In the silence that followed, you tried to sort your thoughts. Changbin, your best friend and the man you fell in love with, also has feelings for you? Very slowly, as this revelation settled in, a smile appeared on your lips as you took his hand to give a gentle squeeze to it. “I- I would love to go with you.” you whispered, causing him to let out a relieved breath, his usual happy smile growing on his face again. 

With this, the others slowly turn their attention back to the food, Chan giving you a reassuring and proud smile before he also continues eating. Changbin and you stay leaned against each other, enjoying the slow beginning of a journey you'll take on together. 

taglist:

@mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @jayshoneybee, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie,

@h3arteyes4mingi

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[burrowbaddie]

Can you write one about joe confessing his feelings after being jealous, thanks!!

Jealous!Joe who has been crushing on you since freshman year. He would never confess because you are against dating athletes. Besides, he is okay being your roommate/best friend.

"I can't find my shoes! Joe, where are my red heels!"

"How would I know where your shoes are? The red ones with the bow?" He asks, tossing a football up in the air. You storm over and grab the ball.

"Yes. Stop throwing balls in the apartment!"

"I can throw balls somewhere else," Joe says with a smirk. You ignore his comment and storm into his room, searching his closet.

"Why are my shoes in your closet?" You sit down and start putting them on.

"You must have left them here. Why are you going on a date anyways? I thought you had a big test to study for. That's not very studious of you." Joe plops down on his bed, watching you stand up and roll your eyes at him.

"If you must know, Greg and I are in the same major, and we plan to study too." You smile, fixing your top in the mirror. Joe rolls his eyes.

"Greg Kaminski? He's such-"

"A nice guy." You cut him off, giving him a stern look.

"He's not. He is def trying to sleep with you."

"Joe, not everyone has a football brain and wants to fuck everything in a skirt." You walk out of the bedroom and grab your purse. Then you remember to touch up your makeup so you have Joe answer the door. Joe swings the door open and glares at Greg. Greg asks for you, but Joe continues to glare at him.

"She's not here." He slams the door in Greg's face. Greg knocks again. Joe opens it again.

"What?"

"Well, we were supposed to have a date, so-"

"She's sick."

"But you said she's not here." Greg scratches his head.

"Yeah, she's at the doctor's, so get lost."

"Greg!" You squeal, walking over.

"Omg, you are home!" Joe says, pretending to be shocked. You give him a weird look and walk out.

"Clean up after yourself, Joseph. I'll be home late."

"Not too late though," Joe shouts back. He slams the door and plops down on the couch. He scrolls through some texts before deciding to grab something to eat with Ja'Marr. Unfortunately for you, your roommate comes to the exact same bar.

"I thought you said you were studying," Joe shouts over the music. Ja'Marr sits next to Greg, and Joe slides into the booth blocking you in.

"Joseph, of all the bars in this city, this is the one you chose. Remove yourself. I'm on a date." You shout back.

"Greg has a girlfriend." Ja'Marr blurts out. You snap your head toward Greg. He shakes his head and holds up his hands. Ja'Marr slides you his phone. You stare at Greg's girlfriend's IG. Ja'Marr stands up.

"We have this open relationship. I swear." Gregs says. Joe stands up, letting you out of the booth. You throw your drink on Greg and storm off. Joe chases after you and pulls you into a hug.

"Why are all men such jerks." You scream into his chest. Joe rubs your back.

"It's not meant to be with some guys. Don't worry; Joey will keep you safe." He says, talking in third person. You sniffle and walk back into the bar. After a few drinks, you being the lightweight drinker you are, has to be carried home by Joe.

"Men. All of them go to Hell." YOu mumble as Joe carries you over his shoulder towards your bed. He lays you down and starts to take off your heels.

"Jeans. Take it off." You try to unbutton your jeans, making Joe laugh. He unbuttons them and slides them off your legs. Next, you toss your shirt on the floor.

"Joey, am I pretty?" You pout, sitting on your knees. Joe nods his head.

"Extremely pretty." He replies, licking his lips. You pout some more.

"Why won't guys date me."

"Because-"

"Give me B O B!" You scream, pointing to your side draw.

"Like the rapper? You want me to play music?"

"Bob. I want him."

"Who the hell is Bob? Another guy I have to tell to fuck off?" Joe shouts going to your side table. He opens the drawer expecting a phone number or something but is shocked to find your little red vibrator. Joe pulls it out and eyes it.

"I'm much bigger than this." Joe chuckles, turning around to find you passed out on the bed. He laughs and puts it back but makes a note to bring it up in the morning. On the nightstand, he leaves you water and painkillers. You wake up with a hangover and take the meds. After a shower, you join Joe for breakfast.

"How's Bob?" Joe asks, munching on his toast.

"Who?"

"B O B."

You stare at him feeling your face heat up. No. No way. What did you say last night? Judging by Joe's smile, you know he knows about your vibrator.

"Battery Operated Boyfriend." Joe smiles, and you start screaming and run to your room. Joe finishes his food and knocks on your door.

"We all have needs, little bit!" Joe laughs, calling you the nickname he gave you because of your height. Which never made sense to you because you're 5'9, obviously, and he would tower over you, standing at 6'4. But you were on the taller side for girls, regardless.

"Go away! I'm embarrassed." You scream into your pillow.

"I jerk off 6 times a week."

"Joe....That's like every day."

"I mean, I didn't say it was daily. Once in the morning and once at night. 3 days out of 7." He replies, jiggling the doorknob. Counting last night when he jerked off, it was definitely 7 times this week.

"Joe....That's gross. stop."

"You try being your roommate." He whispers.

"What?"

"Nothing. Open the door, or I'll pick the lock." He shouts. You get up, unlocking the door. Joe hugs you, and you still feel a little embarrassed. He walks you backward until the back of your legs hit your bed, and you fall back. Joe lays down on top of you, making you giggle.

"You're heavy stop." You complain. He rolls off of you, and you grab your phone, opening Tinder. Joe rolls his eyes. He needs to delete the app off of your phone next time. You don't know it, but Joe knows your phone passcode. He has deleted numerous amount of texts from guys asking you out. You thought the guys just never texted you back. At first, Joe thought maybe he was doing too much, but his jealousy slowly started to have no limits.

"Oh. I matched with Andre." You smile, and he snatches your phone throwing it to the other side of the bed. Joe pulls you onto his lap and you sit up placing your hands on his chest.

"Andre is not a good guy either. Just stay single." He says, rubbing your hips.

"I have needs." You say mockingly.

"I can fulfill those needs."

Woah. What the fuck is Joe saying right now, you think to yourself.

"That would be weird. Wouldn't it? Friends with benefits never work out. It's a fact." You get off of him and sit on the bed.

"I don't think so." Joe lays on his side, watching you think.

"But we can stop at any time, right."

"Of course." He replies, sitting up.

"And we will still be friends?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, then let's try it."

Joe makes the first move by kissing your cheek, then your lips. You hesitate at first but slowly open your mouth, letting him enter. Joe easily dominates the kiss because you start getting dizzy. His hands find their way to your shorts and slide them off. He pecks your lips and sits back, tossing them on the ground. Of course, today is the day you wore no underwear. Joe marvels at your thighs, knowing as soon as he opens them, his prize will be between them. He slowly pulls your legs apart and almost drools at the sight of your pussy.

"Fuck." Joe says, bending down to kiss your legs and finally, the thing he has been dreaming about since freshman year. You arch your back feeling his lips on your cunt. No guy has ever gone down on you. Your fingers find safety in his hair as Joe simply devours you from down under.

"Oh gosh. OMG!" You cry out as Joe tongue fucks you into another world. When he slides two fingers in you, you yank at his hair, causing him to hiss. Joe takes his focus to your clit as he sucks and flicks his tongue around the bud.

"I'm cumming. Joe, wait!" You cry out. Joe only speeds up, causing you to clamp your legs around his head. When you cum, he drinks every drop. Slurping loudly. Hearing your moans excites Joe even more. He removes his face from your pussy and smiles at you. His face is soaked with your juices. He gets up and goes to the nightstand bringing out BOB.

"Joe-"

"Let me just try something." He says, turning it on. You open your legs, letting him take his place. Never in your wildest dreams did you think this would be happening? You never thought you would cross that line with Joe, but here you are with Joe fucking you with your vibrator.

"Do you know how beautiful you look right now?" Joe groans, pulling the vibrator out. You were on your second orgasm and begging him for the real thing. And Joe was happy to deliver. So, here you were on your hands and knees with your best friend/roommate pounding you from behind. Joe grabbed the headboard as he started chasing his own orgasm. You felt the bed shake, and the sound of the headboard mixed with the sounds of your sopping pussy swallowing Joe's cock sent you into overdrive.

"Birth control?" Joe asks because he's so close to cumming deep inside you. You nod your head fast. And with that, Joe cums inside of you. Your weak arms and legs give out when Joe pulls out. He lays down next to you, rubbing your back. And your friends-with-benefits relationship starts.

"A date? With who?" Joe asks, watching you put makeup on. It had only been 3 weeks since your arrangement started, but you still wanted to date.

"Andre from Tinder. He's a little bit older, but this could be it. Older guys are more mature and over their childish ways." You fix your turtleneck and turn to him.

"We had sex like two days ago. You still have the hickey on your neck and your thighs, so I don't think this guy is going to appreciate that." Joe crosses his arms and leans against your door.

"Well, I don't plan on sleeping with him, so he won't see any of it. Don't you have to meet with the football team?"

"I think it's dumb. I'm giving you-"

"Sex. I want love and a boyfriend." You cut him off and grab your phone. Joe follows you to the front door.

"Why can't you just be happy with what we have?"

"Joe, get over yourself. You wanted to have sex with me. That's all we have going on. I have the right to see other people. I'm sure Tiffany, your little girlfriend, wouldn't be so happy that you're sleeping with me."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Then you might want to clear that up with the campus." You slam the door leaving Joe frustrated. He grabs his football bag and leaves for late practice. Tiffany was a cheerleader for the team, and yeah, Joe's messed around with her, but she wasn't his girlfriend, plus they haven't done anything since last semester. So when he spots her Joe confronts her about it.

"Why'd you tell people were dating," Joe asks. Tiffany stops talking to her friend and turns toward Joe.

"I have no clue what you're talking about." She crosses her arms, popping her gum loudly.

"Stop telling people that. That's all I wanted to say. Have a good one, Tiff." Joe walks off, but Tiffany makes a comment about you, and he stops in his tracks.

"What?"

"You heard me. Is it because you're fucking her?"

"She's my best friend. Get a life. I'm not going to play childish high school games with you." Joe walks away, this time as she continues popping off. When Joe gets home, he finds you sleeping on the couch with your notebook. He pokes your cheek.

"What? What are you doing?" You sit up, wiping your eyes.

"I'm sorry about earlier. You can date whoever you want." Joe sighs.

"I know that. And you can date whoever you want. That's that."

"How was your date?" Joe asks, even though it kills him on the inside.

"Great. He is such a sweet guy. I think this is it." You are smiling from ear to ear. Joe hates it. No, he doesn't hate your beautiful smile. He hates that some guy gets the same smile he always gets out of you. And just like that, Andre took you away from Joe. You guys started dating one month after the first date. And it was killing Joe.

"Dre. Stop." You giggle as your boyfriend kisses your neck. Joe slams his bedroom door and goes to grab his gym bag.

"Hey, Joey!" Andre calls out. Joe ignores him. He doesn't want that piece of shit to call him anything. Sure, he was a great guy, but he wasn't good enough for you. Joe concluded that. Joe had searched high and low for dirt on this guy, but he came back clean. It drove him mad.

"Joe, I'm going away this weekend with Dre, so you will have the place to yourself. No parties." You warn him. Joe doesn't say anything, which is weird and hurtful, but you brush it off. Joe puts his sneakers on, and you go to the bathroom. Dre gets up and walks over.

"I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I know you're the best friend and want to protect her. But she is a big girl and-"

"Are you done?" Joe asks. Andre chuckles.

"Listen I get you are her best friend, but she's my girlfriend. I'm not going to do the jealous guy thing with you. Respect me, and I'll respect you." Andre and Joe glare at each other until you come back. You walk over, and Andre wraps his arm around you.

"Everything okay?" You ask. Joe nods and puts his airpods in, walking out the door.

"I think he has a crush on you." Andre laughs.

"Joe? No. It's not like that. He is overprotective sure, but no, he doesn't like me like that. He's the number one athlete on campus girls are all lined up for him." You laugh, walking away.

"Well, he's kind of an asshole to me. If we're going to continue to date you need to fix that. I'm not really into jealous guys." Andre sits down and you wonder what Joe said to him. So, when Joe returns home you confront him.

"Stop. Whatever you said to Dre and how you acted toward him stops now. I've been letting it slide over the last few weeks, but enough is enough. You're mad because I ended our friends with benefits, and you're being a really shitty person about it."

"I'm not mad." Joe walks away from you, and you follow him to his room.

"Then why are you giving me an attitude. You can't stay 5 mins and have a conversation with me? You keep avoiding me, and it hurts."

"It hurts? You know what hurts is having a best friend who is the smartest person on campus, but they can't even read into normal situations." Joe shouts back, throwing his bag down.

"What? What are you talking about? How is this normal?"

"I'm in love with you. I have been hopelessly in love with you for the last 3 fucking years. And I thought at some point you would notice, but you didn't."

"You love me? Joe. I-What are you even saying right now."

"It doesn't matter anymore. Go be with Andre. He's a good guy. I know because I researched him."

You're speechless. You don't know how to reply to any of this. Joe points to the door, and you walk away. He slams it close and locks it. For the next two weeks, he stays with Ja'Marr.

"Is Joe okay?"

"What do you think." Ja'Marr laughs, copying your notes.

"You knew?"

"Everyone knew. But you, I guess." Ja'Marr slides your notes back. You stuff them in your bag. You feel like the biggest idiot on the planet. Joe doesn't come home for another week. You sit up on the couch, watching him walk to the bedroom.

"Joe-"

"I thought you would be at the library. I just came to get some more clothes. I'll move out at the end of the semester."

"Joe, stop. Can you talk to me?" You follow him to his bedroom.

"Talk," Joe says, going into his closet.

"I didn't know. I never saw it that way. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I'm sure you and Andre will be better if I'm not in the picture." Joe throws clothes into his bag. You shake your head.

"No. I-I broke up with Andre. I had time to think for the last three weeks. All this time, I thought what we had was normal for friends. But it wasn't. Every guy that I've tried to have something with, I found myself comparing them to my best friend. I needed him to make me laugh so hard milk comes out my nose. Or watch this most annoying romcom with me even though he hates them with a passion. Or when it's that time of month, he drops everything to make sure I'm taken care of...I looked for all of that in these guys when I already had that.

"What are you saying?" Joe stops packing to face you.

"Joe, I love you too."

Joe tries to hide his smile. You shove him. He hugs you and kisses the top of your head.

"You're not very good at reading people." He comments. You playfully hit his stomach. Joe chuckles and looks down, and pouts his lips. You roll your eyes and kiss his lips.

"And the guys you were chasing after definitely weren't going to make you squirt like-"

"Joe, stop! That was so embarrassing." You scream, covering his mouth. Joe kisses your hands.

Here you go, nonny! I hope you like it. This was a bunch of fun to write. I did it in one sitting so if it sucks sorry lol but yay!

[smellslikechahnspirit]

Introduction to Stray Kids, SKZ

[for my baby-STAY bestie, Nyll]

From what I know personally. Don´t hate me for knowing more about some than others lol. Feel free to comment fun facts about YOUR bias, maybe I´ll add them here!

DISCLAIMER: For anyone reading this, this article is how I preceive the skz members, some of it might be a personal opinion, so might NOT be factual!

STRAY KIDS

Entertainment company: JYP Entertainment. Their debut was on March 25, 2018. They had a survival show a year prior to that. Chris (Bang Chan) is the one who formed the group by himself, which was unusual, since normally the company does that. So if it wasn´t for Chris, the group may have contained completely different people. The company trusted him enough to do so. The group debuted as a group of 9 members but one member had left in 2019 due to personal reasons. (If you want tea about that, text me.)

Fandom name: STAY (August 1st is our bday.)

Members: 8

Hyung line (eldests): Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin.

Maknae line (youngests): Han, Felix, Seungmin, I.N.

Units: 3.

First Unit: 3RACHA: Consists Bang Chan, Changbin and Han. ( The OG unit. This is the unit who creates all their music. Without them the group basically wouldn´t exist. They write, produce, arange and more.) Before making music for SKZ they made music for themselves. You can still listen to those songs on Youtube. That was more rap based.

Second Unit: Dance Racha: Consists Lee Know, Felix and Hyunjin (Since there are 3 members leading in dance. They made a joke to call it a unit, but I feel like it´s a real thing now.)

Third Unit: Vocal Racha: Consists Seungmin and I.N (Same thing here, they are main vocals, that´s why.)

It´s called Racha, because of the sauce, sriracha. Cuz they´re hot.

Current Dorm Arrangement: Dorm 1: Bang Chan & I.N Dorm 2: Lee Know & Han Dorm 3: Changbin & Hyunjin Dorm 4: Seungmin & Felix The 4 dorms are located within 5 minutes walk from each other. 

Mascotte: SKZOO (Let´s see if you can match them to the right member)

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I will introduce the members in age sequence from eldest to youngest. I picked the photos from the ATE album photoshoot. I will type anything that comes to mind. I amazed myself of how much info I know about them. It´s kinda disturbing if you think about it...I need to get a life UWU.

방찬 Bang Chan:

Stage Name: Bang Chan (방찬) Birth Name: Christopher Chahn Bahng Korean Name: Bahng Chan (방찬)

Age: 27 [ October 3rd, 1997 ]

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Height: 171 cm

MBTI Type: ENFJ-T

Nationality: Korean-Australian

Representative Animal: Wolf

Position: Leader, Producer, Vocalist, Dancer, Rapper

Unit: 3RACHA

Instagram: @ gnabnahc

A bit about Chrissy:

As you know, this man is my bias. A bias is what you call a member who is your favorite. So for you that currently is Changbin Chrissy is also my Ult. Ult means Ultimate, as in your fav member, amoungst all the kpop groups you stan.

Chris likes sports and is very athletic. He can do it all.

Strong, fast, smart, sweet, truely kind, determent, ambitious, hard working, shy, empathic, loyal.

If there is one thing that he loves, it´s the ocean. This man is a true aussie and misses his home alot. But he knows what he gave it all up for. Stray kids.

The group he basically created. He was very young when he moved from Australia to Korea to become a trainee at JYP. He trained for 7 years. He had a hard time seeing his other trainee friends come and go, and became a very cold person. Because he bascially protected himself from being hurt like that again. Towards his members he was also very strict and cold in the beginning, since he loved them too much and wanted them all to succeed. He never wanted one of his friends to leave again, so he worked so hard, day and night to make the group as big as it has become today. I personally stanned them since 2017 and I remember him being that way. Everyone was a bit scared of him lol. But he also tried showing lots of love too. Nowadays that coldness is pretty much gone and nothing but love comes from this man. Although he doens´t forget his position as leader.

He takes care of everything regarding the group and is the first one responsable. There is an insane amount of pressure on him, but he always tells us, that he can handle it. He knows himself better then we do, and we have to take his word for it.

Chris loves Pokemon and One Piece a lot. He watches a lot of Anime. He isn´t that good in gaming, from what I´ve heard from the other members. He says otherwise. TFT is his current fav mobile game. He also has been playing Genshin and he said the new character Xilonen is hot. Besides playing games, Chris usually is just working.

He is a very flirty person on Bubble, but he claims he doesn´t know what flirting is.

He can play the guitar and the piano.

He is double jointed.

Favorite song is Rewrite the stars by Zendaya and Zac Efron.

He hates his thin curly hair. He hates his height. He hates his face card. Basically he doesn´t love himself. Which I don´t get, but us stays cannot change his mind.

He used to do Live streams every Sunday. Called Channie´s Room. I have watched them all since 2019 until it ended last year. He quit those AMAZING lives due to unclear reasons, but I have a feeling it had something to do with- (ask me in real life, it´s too controversial to say on here lol.)

His favorite color is blue. Blue, like the ocean.

He has a little brother and sister. He really looks up to his dad. He wants to be like him one day. He has a dog named Berry.

Chris used to swim. And he is still pretty good at it. But he rarely gets the chance to do it anymore. Nowadays he likes to play soccer or as he likes to say, footy.

He is addicted to his phone.

He doesn´t have a favorite food but he likes anything with meat. Especially the lamb ribs his dad makes for him on the bbq. He had a phase that he only ate Vietnamese Pho. He likes gelatto and he likes the flavour pistachio. Does not drink alcohol or coffee.

He barely sleeps, like ever.

He is friends with a lot of famous people, including Ryan Reynolds. He loves the Deadpool movies. But he took note, to never watch it together with STAY again. He did it once, on Christmas...and got shy when the explicit scene came on. Dork.

He is very rich lmao and currently wears a lot of clothes by Fendi. He used to only wear black clothes from head to toe. But this year he has really improved on his style and figuering out what looks good on him.

Thinks it´s funny to eat spicy noodles even though he can´t take the spiciness. Idiot.

He has a candle warmer with the candle Vanilla Creme brulee underneath it from Yankee.

His favorite season is Autumn.

When he was young he had issues with anxiety. He couldn´t even leave his house. He was affraid to talk to people. But he took his mom as an example and started acting the way she did and overcame his fears.

Also in his trainee years, he dealt with depression (Insert the song 42 by 3RACHA.) He sometimes still feels depressed, and overthinks a lot during the night. But he said, he can take it.

His motto: Just enjoy.

I could keep going for like 44482779837383843 more pages about stupid little things I know about this man, but let´s not lmao. I´ll spare you.

Click here to see random Chris moments!

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리노 Lee Know

Stage Name: Lee Know (리노) Birth Name: Lee Min Ho (이민호)

Age: 25 [ October 25th, 1998 ]

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Height: 172 cm

MBTI Type: ISFP

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Rabbit

Position: Dance leader, Dancer, Vocalist, Rapper

Unit: DanceRacha

Instagram: @ t.leeknowsaurus

A bit about Lino:

He used to be a back-up dancer for BTS.

He has 3 cats and is obsessed with them. Sooni, Doongi, and Dori.

He often comes off as a mean person, cause he likes teasing the other members. But he has a heart of gold and would take care of you the best.

He is hubbie material frfr. He can cook really good too!

Afraid of heights.

Has weird dreams.

Doesn´t speak English very well, but he is learning! In English interviews he often seems lost, because he simply is.

In the survival show, he got elleminated. In the end JYP gave him one last chance and he made the final cut.

He can´t actually swim, so in variety shows where they go into the water, he always has a floaty.

His motto: Let’s eat well and live well.

I do know more things, but none that are really important right now.

Click here to see random Lino moments!

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창빈 Changbin

Stage Name: Changbin (창빈) Birth Name: Seo Chang Bin (서창빈)

Age: 25 [ August 11th, 1999 ]

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Height: 167 cm

MBTI Type: ESTP

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Pabbit (Pig & Rabbit)

Position: Rapper, Vocalist, Producer

Unit: 3RACHA

Instagram: @ jutdwae

A bit about Binnie:

Okay so I don´t know a lot about this man.

He loves the gym! He has been working out for years and loves being strong. But he doenst have abs, or so he claims. That´s why he never shows skin on stage. But he said he was working on it!

He is actually really kawaii. He likes pink and such. But in the beginning he was all dark and bad boy vibes. He still claims black is his favorite color.

He likes horror movies.

Girl group dances are his specialty.

Sassy.

His motto: Let’s live with a positive mind, enjoy the life.

Cries on rollarcoasters.

Click here to see random Binnie moments!

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현진 Hyunjin

Stage Name: Hyunjin (현진) Birth Name: Hwang Hyun Jin (황현진) English Name: Sam Hwang

Age: 24 [ March 20th, 2000 ]

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Height: 179 cm

MBTI Type: ESTP

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Ferret

Position: Dancer, Rapper, Vocalist, Visual

Unit: Dance Racha

Instagram: @ hynjinnnn

A bit about Jinnie:

Hyunjin is a great dancer, but also a great painter! He makes amazing paintings and shares them on Bubble and Instagram.

A walking meme.

Dramaqueen.

He lived in Las Vegas for a while as a kid.

Allergic to cat furr.

Almost joined a cult by accident when he first moved to Korea.

He hates onions and eggplant.

Screams loudly and is overall chaotic.

Sleeptalker.

His motto: Let’s try even when you regret it later.

Click here to see random Jinnie moments!

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한 Han

Stage Name: Han (한) Birth Name: Han Ji Sung (한지성) English Name: Peter Han

Age: 24 [ September 14th, 2000 ]

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 169 cm

MBTI Type: ISTP

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Quokka

Position: Rapper, Vocalist, Producer

Unit: 3RACHA

Instagram: @ _doolsetnet

A bit about Hannie:

A complete rockstar.

The first member to be chosen by Chris.

Writes beautiful lyrics.

Likes the color red.

Plays electric guitar live on stage.

He stayed in Malaysia for a while as a teen. That´s why his english is pretty good, but he has a british accent, since that´s how they teach it there.

I don´t remember the story completly correctly, but I feel like I remember him saying that he almost got eaten by a crocodile in Malaysia once. I could be wrong lmao.

Had some issues with anger and anxiety, but is doing well nowadays!

When he lays down he usually falls asleep.

I feel like he is a very emotional person. I feel a strong connection with him since he has been through a lot of the same things as I have. Latety he has been doing well though.

Struggled with panic attacks as well. (Insert my connection to him.)

His motto: This too, shall pass.

Click here to see random Hannie moments!

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필릭스 Felix

Stage Name: Felix (필릭스) Birth Name: Felix Lee (이 필릭스) Korean Name: Lee Yong Bok (이용복)

Age: 24 [ September 15th, 2000 ]

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 171 cm

MBTI Type: ENFJ

Nationality: Korean-Australian

Representative Animal: Chick

Position: Dancer, Rapper, Vocalist

Unit: Dance Racha

Instagram: @ yong.lixx

A bit about Lixxie:

Our second aussie man.

Just like Chris, from Sydney. He must miss his home as well, but talks about it less.

That´s also why Chris and him are so close. Chris said he feels like a brother to him. And he loves talking English with him, so he doesn´t lose his aussie accent. Even though Felix his accent is already much thicker than Chris´s.

An actual nugget. He is so tiny asdfghjkl.

FRECKLES!!!

Fun fact, he was my first bias back in 2017.

He is ambassador for Louis Vuiton.

He is Catholic.

Very flexable.

Felix is a 3rd degree black belt at taekwondo, he won a lot of medals when he was young.

He can make a spot on Mosquito sound.

Blue is his favorite color.

He had to learn Korean within a couple of months, and did it.

He HATES scary stuff.

Chocolate abs.

His hands are very tiny.

He loves doing ASMR.

Baking! He loves baking but especially brownies and cookies.

Build his own PC and Keyboard.

Loves gaming. Obsessed with Genshin these days.

He always gives the other members massages.

He always cheats in every game.

Obsessed with Changbin.

Just like Minho, he got ellimenated in their survival show. In the end he also got a second chance and made the final cut as well.

His motto: Just a little braver.

Click here to see random Lix moments!

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승민 Seungmin

Stage Name: Seungmin (승민) Birth Name: Kim Seung Min (김승민)

Age: 24 [ September 22nd, 2000 ]

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 178 cm

MBTI Type: ISFJ

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Dog

Position: Vocalist

Unit: Vocal Racha

Instagram: @ miniverse.___

A bit about Minnie:

Okay so don´t come at me, but I simply don´t know much about him besides that he is realy sweet and feels betrayed fast is the members prank him. But he will return the favour. He is a menace.

He went to the same high school as Chris.

He loves singing covers.

I also remember something between him and baseball, he liked playing.

His motto: Today you spent in vain is the day as tomorrow someone who passed away really wants to live through.

Click here to see random Min moments!

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아이엔 I.N

Stage Name: I.N (아이엔) Birth Name: Yang Jeong In (양정인)

Age: 23 [ February 8th, 2001 ]

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Height: 172 cm

MBTI Type: INFJ

Nationality: Korean

Representative Animal: Fennec Fox

Position: Vocalist, Maknae (Maknae means youngest)

Unit: Vocal Racha

Instagram: @ i.2.n.8

A bit about Innie:

Same here, I don´t know too much about our little Maknae. And when I say little, I mean not at all little, actually. This tiny nugget really grew up in front of our eyes, and is now a man.

Huge hands.

Litterly has one of the purest hearts.

Has the sweetest softest smile and voice.

During the survival show he got really insecure and was worried he would be ´´poison´´ to the group.

I.N is a Catholic.

He is known to be one of the cleanest members.

His motto: Let’s have a good time!

Click here to see random Ayen moments!

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Sorry if I didn´t write as much for all of them. I love ALL members equally. But I just know my biasses better than others. Hope you enjoyed babes! I want you to know that I appreciate it a lot that you listen and watch the content they make, because you know how much I love and care about these men. For any other people who might be reading this...hi :)

Credits of videos and photos go to the op

[jmdbjk]

3D

I had to let some time pass before I wrote this. The discourse is heated and polarized.

You say: "ABG ... Asian Baby Girl, doesn't mean the same as it used to" ... it might not for you but it is rooted in misogyny and racism. Does that mean the n-word doesn't mean what it used to? Or the word bitch, cunt or whore? It's ok to use those words too when rapping about women? What about fag or fairy? Ok? No. Not okay.

You do you, Boo, but:

"The ongoing oppression of women is enshrined in religious, legal, political, educational, and employment systems and structures. An equivalent level of systemic and structural oppression has not been experienced by the current generation of white men in America. "

You can read the article this excerpt is from here.

My first impression upon listening/watching the first time: I did not like it because of fugly white boy, Jack Harlow. I've never liked him, I've never liked his lyrics or his vibe. He is the type of overdone, asshole misogynistic male bullshit rap that had become unavoidable for a while.

I don't have ANY problem with JK singing about sex, having sex, shooting his jizz to the sky or any of that. BRING. THAT. ON. I don't care if the song is about phone sex or masturbating on camera or whatever.

What I do have a problem with is a white guy saying one girl (the black girl) is boring but two girls (add the white girl) is cool. I have a problem with the concept of having women lined up ready to fuck as some sort of thing to laud. And they are all dressed alike, so that means he doesn't care about them, they're all the same. Just another pussy to fuck. Diversity, yay. Not.

I will listen to the alternate version of the song but I will never listen to or stream the version with the rap.

I love Jungkook. I love that he's exploring his sound. He is creating music that speaks to him RIGHT NOW in his career. Do I like that he's put this song out? No. But that's my own personal opinion.

I can't speak for Jungkook, a 26 year old Korean man. He has his own systemic and structural oppressions to deal with.

I am not going to second guess him. He will see the feedback and take it into consideration, I don't have to guess on that, I know he will. They all see what goes on.

I wanted to give JK the benefit of the doubt with Seven. I don't have a problem with Seven the song, but its the hype surrounding it that is perpetuated by the fandom that he is being pushed in the western market. This song proves it.

All that being said, BTS and each individual member all exist within an industry that is heavily influenced by the western market.

As such, every song each member releases will add to the colors that the team will be able to use when they come back together as a group. No one will be surprised if BTS utilizes a hardcore western rapper in the future now. It is just one more color in the mix.

But as my friend says: "Shoot for another Coldplay....They don't need to be lifting people up. They need to find peers. Which is why I would support a Lady Gaga collab with Tae. Which is why Hobi asked for J Cole. That's a peer, man. I can handle Pharrell with them.

The benchmark for peers, to me, is another artist who has nothing to gain from collab'ing with them. An artist who holds their own, on their own, and collabs to let each participant have fun, shine, and grow a bit. Not some newbie who needs the boost. The only exception to that would be if they worked with one of their juniors at Hybe."

And now I move on from this.