joonsraincloud

[joonsraincloud]

Ermanno Scervino S/S 2022

[joonsraincloud]

jungkook fic recs

here’s a list of jungkook fics that i love sooo much ♡︎ pls go show these amazing authors some love and support !! most works are 18+ so minors don’t interact !

— series

by @venusiangguk

dilf jk : smut, fluff, angst, s2l, fwb

gold rush : smut, fluff, established relationship, college au, switch!jk

by @1kook

netflix & chill : fluff, domesticity, smut, angst, s2l, established relationship, app developer!jk

born sinner : smut, angst, church boy!jk

by @bratkook

deep six : smut, angst, fluff, biker gang au, biker!jk

i don’t mind : smut, fluff, angst, s2l, band au, guitarist!jk

queen of broken hearts : smut, heavy angst, fwb, one sided pining

not yet : fluff, angst, smut, idiots2lovers, best friend!jk

by @noteguk

bad influence : smut, angst, fluff, fwb, e2l, college au, bad boy!jk

by @extravaguk

#jeonjungkookisoverparty : fluff, smut, humor, college au, fake dating au, himbo!jk

by @angelguk

pretty boy : smut, angst, fluff, childhood besties au, pining, jock!jk

by @kookingtae

falling into you : angst, smut, slow burn, mutual pining, college au, shy!jk

by @boymeetsweevil

for science : fluff, smut, angst, humor, f2l, fwb, nerdy!jk

by @junqkook

into the woods : smut, angst, fluff, e2l, fantasy au, goblin!jk

by @kooktrash

they were liars : smut, angst, s2l, fake dating au, neighbors au, college au

by @smoochkooks

an ode to a broken heart : heavy angst, smut, unrequited love, f2?

by @xpeachesncream

lowkey : fluff, smut, angst, f2l, college au, fake dating au, nerdy!jk

by @yoon2k

daddy jk : smut, fluff, domesticity, established relationship, husband/dilf!jk

by @chateautae

hotter than hell : angst, fluff, smut, romance, e2l, fantasy au, supernatural au, fallen lucifer!jk

by @yeojaa

devil in a new suit : fluff, angst, smut, idiots2lovers, rich!jk

— one shots

by @venusiangguk

let the games begin & pretty kitty : smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship, gamer!jk

the water is alive : smut, pwp, s2l, fantasy au, crack, himbo!jk

idealizations concerning real life relations : smut, angst, s2l, fwb, fuckboy!jk

keen : pwp, smut, established relationship, jealous!jk

swan song : smut, s2l, f2l, peeping tom!jk

by @1kook

skirt chasers : smut, f2l, college au, campus crush!jk

late fee : smut, angst, f2l, college au, (soft) fuckboy!jk

some way, some how : smut, angst, childhood crushes, f2l, slice of life, pining, autoshop owner!jk

explorer : fluff, smut, angst, s2l, f2l, alien!jk

baecation : smut, domestic love, rich boy!jk

by @bratkook

corrupt : smut, pwp, vampire!jk

tempo : smut, pwp, drummer!jk

quiet, baby : smut, pwp, established relationship

come over & choke me : smut, pwp, neighbor au, peeping tom!jk

concrete king : fluff, smut, himbo/skater boy!jk

another taste : smut, pwp, lead singer/rockstar!jk

switch up! : fluff, smut, college au, bassist!jk

by @noteguk

white lies : smut, fluff, slight angst, f2l, fake dating au, mutual pining, athlete!jk

wicked : smut, demon/incubus!jk

sweet : smut, pwp, established relationship, sub!jk

by @extravaguk

sex education : smut, fluff, college au, brother’s best friend au

lemon sherbet : smut, fluff, angst, summer au, tattoo/piercing artist!jk

by @rmverse

since day one : smut, fluff, f2l, werewolf/boxer/tattoo artist!jk

shield : fluff, romance, smut, security guard!jk

by @jungkxook

the love bug : fluff, smut, spiderman!jk

hot boy bummer : fluff, smut, fwb, f2l, fuckboy!jk

suck it up! : fluff, smut, f2l, college au, vampire!jk

by @angelguk

pu$$y fairy : smut, fwb, college au

lessons in love : smut, best friends au, virgin au

(better) left unsaid : angst, pining, best friends au, band au, lead singer!jk

i could be enough : angst, smut, mutual pining, fwb, stoner!jk

sorry (not sorry) : smut, pining, college au, roommates au

by @aquagustd

angels like you : smut, fluff, s2l, college au, social experiment au, dancer!jk

by @junqkook

rottenfolk : smut, angst, faerie au, royal au, faerie prince!jk

by @mygsii

ensnared : angst, smut, siren au, supernatural au, siren!jk

by @smoochkooks

champagne problems : smut, fluff, slight angst, fwb, slight sugar daddy au, rich!jk

by @mercurygguk

cockblocked : smut, fluff, angst, f2l, roommates au, college au

cuddles : fluff, roommates au

by @jeongi

caught me : smut, roommates au, slight e2l

by @taegularities

bliss : fluff, smut, established relationship, dilf!jk

by @kimnjss

desperate housewife : smut, established relationship, husband!jk

finger painting : smut, pwp, established relationship

by @littlemisskookie

piss off your parents : smut, fluff, angst, roommates au, fake dating au, bad boy!jk

by @yoon2k

aren’t we all sinners? : smut, supernatural au, religious au, sacrilege, ghostbusters!jk

fatal attraction : horror, smut, jennifer’s body au, early 2000s au, supernatural au, college au, virgin!jk

by @inkedtae

pretty boy : smut, fluff, f2secretlovers, shy!jk

crema : smut, pwp, f2l, coffee shop au, forbidden romance au, brother’s best friend!jk

by @sourkoo

endgame : smut, fluff, established relationship, gamer!jk

by @jeonjcngkook

rockstar 101 : smut, pwp, established relationship rockstar!jk

by @ppersonna

swipe right : smut, fluff, angst, f2l, idiots2lovers, twitch streamer!jk

by @junghelioseok

it takes two : smut, fake dating au, roommates au, slow burn, tatted!jk

by @gamerguk

make you scream : smut, humor, f2l

by @ot7always

oh my god, they were (quarantined) roommates : fluff, smut, college au, roommates au

by @yeojaa

holidating : fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, idiots2lovers, slow burn, pining, best friend!jk

by @jjungkookislife

love shop : fluff, smut, slight angst, semi-sex work au

by @pasteljeon

shadows : smut, angst, venom au, venom!jk

by @bimbo-jk

bleed you dry & make you cry : smut, established relationship, vampire!jk

[joonsraincloud]

too hot, two handle — new fic announcement!

➺ pairing(s): jungkook x reader; jimin x reader; jimin x reader x jungkook

➺ genres / tropes: SMUT, humor, blink and you’ll miss the angst, college au, casual dating, misunderstandings, basically “John Tucker Must D*e” but less dramatic n more sexy

➺ warnings/content tags: explicit smut, jikook will be fucking her together while wearing the ptd black swan fits

➺ summary: You really thought you knew what you were doing when you were fucking both Jimin and Jungkook without the other one knowing. It’s not your fault they were both under the misguided impression that you were exclusive. After all, you had tried your best to remain aloof, play hard to get, and close off any discussions about your relationship status. It seems that you have done too well of a job ensnaring them both because now they both know about the other and they are set out for the most delicious and deviously sexy revenge imaginable. You have no idea what’s in store for you.

➺ release date: this fic will be dropping in January 2022 (this was meant to be an end of the year present for you guys but looks like it will be a new year’s present instead lol)

(yes i did repost because tumblr tags were broken)

PLEASE REPLY UNDER THE POST OR SEND IN AN ASK TO BE INCLUDED IN THE TAG LIST!

[joonsraincloud]

[joonsraincloud]

Hot. (m) | ONE SHOT | KIM NAMJOON, 3.9k

Pairing: Reader x Namjoon

Summary: Let’s face it: Namjoon is hot. Always been, always will. So, as his girlfriend, why not let him know every chance you get? 😉

Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+) for language; smut (fem-reader; oral (f-receiving); grinding; fingering; finger sucking; cowgirl/riding; multiple orgasms; penetrative sex); fluff; so much teasing lmao (mostly towards him); you unleash your hidden rap skills, it’s not quite stellar enough to be the fourth member of the rapline but good enough for him 😂; Namjoon during the PTD online concert really had me weak in the knees 😩 this is really just one, big thirst fic with fluff interweaved throughout 😵‍💫; idol!AU - established relationship.

=====

-

“Why do you have to be so hot?”

“What did you want to eat?”

It was clear that you and your boyfriend were having two, very different conversations. Across from you was Namjoon, who initially lifted his gaze from his phone to bolster his question. Now, a blush colours his cheeks. It’s faint but it’s there.

“Answer me - ”

“Answer me -”

Impeccable timing, although the conversations remain bifurcated.

It was hours after the online concert and he’s back. Namjoon on the screen is fine, but nothing beats Namjoon in real life. You tilt your head, leaning on your arms as you relaxed on the bed, waiting as he was. It gave you time to appreciate him, his bulk and height, the way his grey, oversized t-shirt cleverly hid those muscles that he has diligently been carving out at the gym. The only consolation you had were the shorts he wore, giving an ample view of his strong legs. Long, lean, and tanned, capable of striding around everywhere with a purpose or cycling for miles and miles.

As he met your gaze, you see his hair dark hair with two carved lines by his right temple and one by his left. He complained about how having too much hair was making him sweat more. In the ghost of the mullet was something shorter, trimmed at the sides and just enough so that it can be styled but also for you to rake your fingers over. At least he consulted you about it before going ahead. You loved that mullet on him.

Namjoon says your name, flustered at your open display of admiration. It was kind of adorable that it was swiftly followed by him running his palm over his undercut several times, raising his eyebrows at you, phone in hand. The look of someone unable to function after being ambushed by the truth.

“I’m serious!” He exclaimed.

You crossed your arms.

“So am I!”

Ignoring your reply, he comes over to sit by the edge of the bed, dipping the mattress topper, his grey shirt so large that the hem pooled. Again, he raises the phone to your view, scrolling down a number of restaurants near the vicinity. Comparably more boring than looking at the person holding it. You knew that he was trying to placate you by letting you choose the take-out meal but you honestly couldn’t care less. As if sensing your thoughts, he brings the phone closer, turning up the brightness.

Rude.

“Okay, so we have -”

You grasped his hips and instinctively, he scoots backwards so that he was sitting fully on the bed before you swung your leg over to straddle him.

Much better.

One (very strong) arm wounds around your waist for support. The gap was shrinking, much to your delight.

Face to face with no phone in sight, he had no choice but to look at you in the eye. You see the moles scattered on his bare face, the signs of stubble on his chin and upper lip. The way his dimples appeared anytime he moved his face, his full lips looking so dewy and tempting. And he smells so good. There were hints of cedar wood and bergamot and along with his natural scent, it was clean and light. Knowing that you were enamoured, he had taken to spray some on you at some point and you couldn’t get enough. Currently, the bottle was on its way to finishing and you only had him to blame. Well, you may have sprayed some without him knowing occasionally.

Very occasionally.

As a reminder of the question, you grind down over his crotch. That earned an instinctive shift of his hips and the slight part of his mouth. With your hands moving on their own, they find themselves on his shoulders, firm and warm. But as soon as you think you’ve won, he brings his phone up. The pesky screen lights up the side of your face and you’re forced to crane your head to decipher restaurant options because of how fast he was scrolling.

“As I was saying, we can have bungeoppang after and -”

This was not the time to be discussing fish-shaped pastry, no matter how good that sounded for dessert.

You wiggle your hips, leaning onto him more.

“Stop deflecting. And you need to ease off on working out, I can barely get my arms around you.”

He laughs, caught off guard. After clearing his throat, possibly to hide his groan, he scrolls down more furiously, reaching the restaurants with less than three stars. You’re convinced that you have him. Just a little more. So you shift your hips, trapping heat.

“What do you want to eat?”

His voice is hesitant. Strained.

Almost.

You raise your eyebrows, “you really want me to answer that question?”

He meets your gaze, his disposition wavers.

“I’m hungry.”

You sighed, “you can multi-task! Go on, order and answer my question,” you replied, a compromise.

Then, you grind down harder, a firm drag of your hips over his. Success sounded like a sharp intake of breath and a flicker of his gaze. You try to hold back a grin as you kissed along his jaw, making him groan. He says your name, his voice deepening. You couldn’t tell if it was a plea or a warning. Either way, he wasn’t harping on about food. Your lips skim his ear, you let him hear your soft sigh as you rocked your hips more insistently. His arms curl over you, it’s so much closer than before.

The sound of his phone clattering onto the floor startled you and you clung to him.

“Is it broken?” You asked, thinking that if it was, that would be the third time his phone needed replacing.

The previous casualties were also unfortunately caught in the fray of you having sex all over the place. You mentally reminded yourself to caution him from keeping his phone in his pocket when it was an inevitability that you would rip each other’s clothes off in haste. At least he had a sponsorship, whereas you would have to tuck your own phone away since you didn’t have that kind of supply. You feel his arm tighten around you as he searched for the fallen phone. He pushes it with his foot and you hear the smooth scrape along the hard floor.

“Nope.”

“Good,” you replied, unable to conceal the joy you had for the take-out menu being far, far away.

Both of his large hands settle on your waist, the hint of a grin appearing, dimples flanking his mouth. You carry on where you left off since you were on a roll. If he wasn’t going to give you an answer, you’re going to have to drill it out of him. Oh well, it’s always good time, making your boyfriend squirm under a torrent of compliments.

“I love your hairstyle.”

He bursts out laughing, his head dipping down so that his forehead touched yours.

“Can you even call it a hair style? I don't even have that much hair right now,” he replied, his hands smoothing over your curves, from the hips to your waist, skimming the underside of your breasts, then starting again. He raises his eyebrows, you knew that meant, No bra? You wiggle your eyebrows in jest, Of course. Not realising it, your hips were moving on their own. You move onto your next observation. Confident that he won’t let you fall, your hands stealthily move to the hem of his shirt.

“You always wear these oversized shirts…”

You lift from the hem for emphasis, the barest hint of tanned skin in view but he squirms and it falls. You pout.

“My shirts are smaller, so I had to get new ones.”

His hands takes a hold of your wrists before you could do anything more. All you hand in your arsenal was the fact that your bottom half was relatively free to move. In response, you grind down, earning an intake of breath, his jaw jutting out slightly. It’s not so much a weakness on his part, rather, it was the sign of his desire overtaking. He’s made it clear by his erection hardening beneath you.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to go so oversized. Would it kill you to get something fitted every now and then? I’m your girlfriend, I deserve to see what’s hidden under there from time to time.”

You weren’t complaining. That was constrictive criticism.

He bursts out laughing, his hold on you loosening so you take that opportunity to hurriedly whip his shirt off. He makes a noise of surprise, a small ‘Oh.’ The useless grey fabric flutters away, landing in a heap elsewhere. You emitted a low-whistle at the sight of his broad chest, trimmed waist, and the sculpted shoulders that lead to defined biceps. You see him get shy from your attention. After all, there was an apparent imbalance. You, relatively clothed, him, only in his shorts. So you kiss him, the lightest brush of your lips, and you feel him smile as he holds you closer against him. Yet you weren’t about to halt your train of thought, so you part from him to get a good look, lacing your fingers at the back of his neck to lean back.

“And can I say that you’re so buff,” you added.

Okay. That sounded better in my head.

Namjoon’s grin spreads, dimples indenting his skin as you retreat, somewhat sheepish at how much you were fawning over him. His hands plant themselves on your waist, his fingers dipping slightly. Then, he shrugs.

“I’m not, not really.”

Narrowing your eyes, you force him to confront his words, sliding a hand up his abs, curling your fingers over his chest. He was so firm and warm, smelling so good that it wouldn’t be hard to get lost in him.

“You are. And you’re hot,” you said.

He shakes his head, staunchly opposing. But there was a twitch to his lips, the beginnings of a smile. You narrow your eyes. Settling properly on his lap, you curl your hand as if you were holding a mic, you even point your index finger up like he does when he’s rapping. Finally, you open your mouth to serenade.

“You’re my ideal type, let’s get married, you’re featuring in my daily life, 99 kilos on the scale -”

You had to admit, you were impressed by your own flow and intonation. Namjoon begins to laugh, like belly laugh at how you were rapping his own verse from Look Here. He laughs so heartily that your voice trembles because you want to join him, loving how the sides of his eyes have smile lines, his lips stretching wide, embarrassed yet happy. Not a bad reaction for your first gig.

“I can’t shake you off, hate it, today that’s how I start it,” you continued, getting really into it, pointing your finger at him for emphasis, balancing on his lap by tightening the grip of your thighs around his waist. And you take a sharp intake of breath, preparing to rap the rest, closing your eyes to focus.

“You’re my - ack!”

Up until now, he gave you a false sense of security by being a witness to your performance, yet he catches you off guard and lifts you to flip you over so that you’re on your back and he’s on top. Drawing his knee between your legs, you note the last of his laughter of his lips. He blinks at you as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. You had to admit he was huge, easily dwarfing you when he was hovering above you like this.

“That’s pretty good,” he began, but you didn’t care. You’re not one to be side-tracked (after all, you are a professional). And like every professional after being interrupted in the middle of performing, you bring your imaginary mic back up to continue.

“You’re my genie Lamborghini, be my teeny weenie mini, you’re -”

Apparently, that was his breaking point. Instantly, your voice was muffled since he placed his palm over your mouth, it’s a gentle tease with no heat behind it.

Yet.

Briefly, you halt so you could swipe your tongue over the surface of his palm, the grooves of his fingers, and he gasped. You loved making him flustered, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s in your presence. Your tongue runs over his fingers, wetting it thoroughly that his eyes widen, reverting to this shyness that colours his cheeks. It was the right mix of love and lust.

He removes his hand carefully, but his thumb rests on your bottom lip. You don’t hesitate to draw it into your mouth, scraping the blunt pad with teeth, relishing in how slow he was pulling it back out.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and the air changes, his eyes go glassy, like they do when you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. You return to the imaginary tally you have in your mind.

Take-out food zero, me, one.

He crashes his lips against yours and you moan in his mouth, your arms winding themselves around his neck. A slide of his tongue in your mouth and you’re grinding against him, legs coming to wrap over him as best as you could, to keep close. Heat unfurls, propelled by your escalating pulse, dipping into your veins, exhaled in breathy gasps as his hands felt you all over, firm kneading on your sides, your legs, then back up again, the pleasant weight of him making you groan. His hand comes lower, lower till those long fingers tease the hem of your shorts and then parts from you, the air feeling like a rush over you.

The same hands grab you by your thighs, drag you down to the edge of the bed. Deliberate movements are executed clumsily, he tugs your shorts away along with your underwear. Your breath hitches as cool air blankets your skin, your clit swollen, the wet seam of your pussy on display. He’s on his knees and what a fucking sight it was, broad shoulders, the bulk of his arms over your legs, his eyes flicking to you and your core. Short, cropped hair, dimples flanking those full lips, dragon eyes with a gaze only for you. That was enough to send you to a state of unravel.

“Joon,” you whimpered, barely touched, unashamedly aching for him.

He grins, a hint of adorable comes through but is quickly eradicated by the fact that he dives in, his tongue licking a stripe up your pussy. You moaned, head meeting the bed, hips shooting up, an immediate grind on his face. He keeps a steady hold on you, spreading you wide, soft lips on your pussy, tongue swirling over your swollen nub, mouth sucking, licking, wet noises that made you writhe. You were panting, your hand grabbing at his hair, finding it too close to his scalp, he groans and you feel it travel all the way along your spine.

“Fuck… feels so good,” you breathed, just as two of his fingers dipped inside you, shoving deep, and you buck your hips, legs flinching, your voice coming out as a high-pitched moan.

He halts and you’re met with a self-assured grin, the arch of a brow, “taste’s even better.”

Fuck.

His voice.

He resumes, he goes and goes, pressing his face, unafraid to be messy, fingers and mouth maintaining you on the spectrum of pleasure than seemed to intensify. You press the back of your thigh on his shoulder, the muscles a firm, twitch from effort, the heat of him, how easy it was for him to break into a sweat. Your hips grind erratically, so close as your nails scrape across his scalp, his grunts muffled as your thighs instinctively try to snap around his head.

“Joon, oh fuck!”

You shudder as you came, your muscles locking as you clench around his long fingers, lost in how good it felt, his tongue flicking your clit, full lips sucking along the smooth, slippery folds, sinful sounds as you quiver beneath him. Your hand releases his hair as he gently pulls his fingers away. You catch your breath but he rejoins you, his mouth glossy with your arousal. Without warning, he grabs your chin and at the same time, slips those fingers that were in your pussy into your mouth, you shiver as you taste yourself, your tongue curling over the digits, moaning from satisfaction. He presses deeper, holding your gaze, mouth parted, tan skin with a hint of blush. Fucking beautiful. He takes his fingers away, jutting his jaw out, you see the twitch of his eyebrow, the mussed up hair.

“Get on top of me.”

Did you say at one point that you loved it when he was demanding? Well, you’re chanting it in your mind now, for good measure.

He’s on the bed, taking up space, broad and muscular, hot and panting. The length of him, head to toe, occupies the mattress despite it being the larger size. Another fucking sight that you burn into your mind. Your hands move, they swipe a condom nearby, then shrug his shorts down, free his cock. Even without touching him, you knew he was throbbing, the tip weeping with pre-cum. You slip your shirt off and watch as his eyes settle on your tits, your nipples hardening from the air and his attention.

“Still hungry?” You tease, tearing the foil with your teeth. He hisses as you touch his cock, tugging the condom down securely.

“No,” he replied, polite even though his eyes were resolutely on how your tits tremble as you raised yourself to position.

He snakes his hand down while the other rests on your hip, he holds his cock for you to take. You bite your lip, one of your hands covering his by your hip, the other reaching on his chest. Lowering yourself was a slow process, even with how wet your were, the stretch you feel is palpable. But it is tempered by the part of his lips, his dark brown eyes blinking slow, the drag of air that he exhales. You could even say that this was the part where his desires tip the scale. You take him all, inch by inch, enjoying the twitch of his features, the way he stares at you, how his teeth cuts his bottom lip as your pussy pulsed around him. Namjoon was so handsome like this and you wanted more.

“Fuck,” he groans, while you grind down, feeling so full that you shudder. Leaning down, you kiss him as you rock your hips, earning a grunt. His arm wraps around you, fingers sink over skin.

“You’re so tight like this,” he moans, and you gasp as he lifts his hips, the beginning of something you reckon will require you to hold on.

“Joon,” you sighed, nuzzling your face into the side of his neck, hips meeting his halfway, the wet squelch of your pussy on his cock drawing a shaky breath from you.

It’s like that until you both grow impatient, so you raise yourself up, planting a hand by his head. He grins as you kiss him, tugging his lower lip with your teeth, a moment to distract before you slam your hips down, raising them to start a blinding pace, dull slap of your skin against his, grasps and grunts as you rode him. Sweat breaks on his chest, your faces inches apart as he groans, deep reverberations that spur you on, melt the burn in your muscles as you practically roll your body onto his, taking him in again and again. He says your name, the depth of his voice changing it slightly to something that sounds a little desperate.

“Ah, fuck,” he groaned, hands flying to your hips not to ensnare but to encourage. You seal your lips over his, so hot that you’re burning.

“Touch me,” you gasped, he follows, his hands skating everywhere, and your back arches, your pussy is dripping all over his cock, his balls. The muscles that were firm before were now rock hard, they press against your soft flesh as you drive your hips down. You feel it, you near the precipice and you go even faster, even harder, and your name escapes his lips like baritone notes that colour the air, his hands are touching you, holding you while your toes curl, each nerve alight.

“F-fuck,” he gasped. You look down, working him to a frenzy, seeing how his face pinches slightly, jaw jutting out, lips bitten and swollen. It’s almost too much and you fight to hold out, gritting your teeth, your moans stifled as you kiss him, grinding down, pulsing over his cock, you clench to tease, heat radiating off his skin onto you.

“Ah shit, I can’t wait anymore,” he rasped, and you feel him secure his strong arms around your waist, finding a break in your rhythm to take over, and he’s thrusting upwards in a blinding pace that you cry out, taken aback as he slams his hips up, up, up till you’re thrashing. It’s too good, it’s too much, it’s just right.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, your face on the side of his neck as brutal thrusts steal the air from your lungs, and you kiss him like your life depends on it, blinding electricity shooting up till it bursts and you came, a mess between your thighs, flooding all over his length, whole body trembling as you bury your face on the space by his neck, squeezing him so hard that he settles deep inside. He’s strong enough that you feel yourself lifting from the bed slightly, your stuttered gasps echoing in the space as he cums with a growl, pounding into you with a fury that it takes you over the edge again, gushing over his cock because you couldn’t help it, the way your walls constrict and clamp over him.

“Oh shit,” you cried out, pressing your face down as he grinds your hips himself, with those large hands kneading your ass, craving proximity despite having no space between you left. The slick drag of his cock, in and out of you, fucking you in shallow pumps and you hum against his lips, feel his hands travel up, one on the back of your neck, the other rubbing along your side. It’s always this good, but you never get used to it. And you both soar, blood pumping through you, settling in the shell of your ear, breaths mixing, heart beating far too fast against your ribcage.

“Joon,” you whispered, liking the sound of his name on your lips. A sort of elated afterthought, your favourite word to say because it belongs to your favourite person. He says your name too, a little drowsy but a lot more content. With the last shred of strength you had, you prop yourself up to look down, you see him, and he’s so handsome that you feel warm all over again. Gently, you nudge your nose against his, you catch the small chuckles that made it past his lips.

“Want to order now?” You tease, rocking your hips as his breath hitches a little.

“Huh?”

His eyes are closed. His voice sounds tired, but the nice kind of tired. The sweet spot between satiation and gluttony.

“Or I could carry on my performance from earlier.”

That earns a laugh. And that’s the best sound. It’s accompanied by another kiss, a smile, and restless hands on your skin.

“What? Think I could out rap you?” You asked, peppering his face with more kisses, tasting the salt on his skin while feeling secure in his arms. He pauses, and you look at him more seriously, waiting for his answer.

“You know what? Maybe.”

-

masterlist.

[joonsraincloud]

Gwendolyn Brooks // Claude Monet- The Waterlily Pond (1899) // Ross Gay // Jacob Van Loon // Mahmoud Darwish- In the Presence of Absence // Vincent Van Gogh // Mary Oliver- Sleeping in the Forest // Milsae // Richard Siken

[joonsraincloud]

the prince’s cinderella syndrome (m) | p.jm. | one-shot

🎧 moon by jin of bts willow by taylor swift

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. a dash of jungkook x reader)

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | fluff | cursed!jimin | supernatural!au | strangers to lovers!au

summary:  He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn’t look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don’t know him - no one on campus does. You don’t know why he appears only once a year. You don’t know why he never smiles. But you can’t help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

warnings: swearing + alcohol consumption + mention of marijuana + black magic and curses + heartbreak + misunderstanding + mention of minor character deaths + inaccuracies abt the american education system + inaccuracies abt nasa & astronomy majors + a mish-mash of american and british english + implicit sexual situations + explicit sexual situations (fingering, oral (m+f), unprotected penetrative sex, semi-public sex, some marking, some dirty talk, some roughness, slight cock warming maybe? mostly pretty missionary stuff tbh) + jk deserves better :/ +  oc is a v. v. lonely girl :( + jimin is a v. v. sad boy :(

word count: 39.4 k 

note: aaand, it’s here! the biggest fic i’ve ever written! time constraint got to me w this one, but the next time i cross 25k, i’m turning the mf into a series 😃

thank you @missgeniality and @taegularities for your notes on the whole catalogue of banners i kept presenting you two with and for the tips i randomly asked for, @knjsnoona my bestie for being there whenever i hit u up and never letting my spirits wane, @ressjeon and naia, my loves, for letting me vent abt the fic to y’all and telling me abt your own failures to make me feel better! 😩

october has been a weird month. the busiest i have been all year with a lot of personal changes happened in my life, too, a lot of them leaning to the sadder side. writing this fic was like a comfort place for me through all of it. i will always look back at this and be proud of my strength. ❤

not beta-read because are you seeing the wordcount? i didn’t want people to hate me, smh. maybe i’ll ask for someone’s help later and update this, maybe i won’t. i hope y’all like this dive into the supernatural i have prepared for you~ 🥺💜

↣ written for the Jimin’s Sunset Spooktober collab hosted by @jamaisjoons @opaljm and @chateautae <3

↦ CROSS-POSTED ON AO3

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

⇥ halloween, freshman year;

You tugged at your unnecessarily short, white tulle skirt, grumbling curses at your roommate for encouraging you to dress up as whatever this sexy-angel-cum-stripper-shit was supposed to be. It was making you uncomfortable as hell, and you were hating coming to this party all the more because of it.

Right now, you were sticking to the shadows and hoping no one would approach you with another lewd proposition. You’d already turned three guys down – one more lecherous grin tossed your way, and you would bolt out of this place, Hyejin’s safety be damned.

You really didn’t understand how the girl had made so many friends here already that she got invited to every single party on campus, when you were literally three months into Freshman year. But that was just who your roommate apparently was – friendly, outgoing, party-loving.

You, on the other hand, had made a total of two friends so far in two separate classes, who spoke even fewer words than you did. And you despised huge gatherings where no one knew no one and everyone drank as if they were trying to please Dionysus into summoning him, like this Halloween party you were currently at. 

Hyejin knew you weren’t a fan of whatever acerbic drinks they served at such parties, so she’d designated you to be on the watch for her while she mingled and drank her body’s weight in alcohol. She tended to make stupid decisions about boys when she was drunk, and you were to keep watch in case some creep tried to take her away and she didn’t realise. But currently, Hyejin was hanging out with some close friends of hers and you believed she was in safe hands for the time being. Which is why you took some time to yourself, escaping the overwhelming bustle in this secluded corner of the house.

Now although you weren’t a fan of spiked punches and vodka shots, good brands of Beers were always tempting to you. And you needed at least some alcohol to tolerate this shit show. 

The exact reason why you decided to scrounge through the fridge for another drink when you were done with your third beer can, barely two hours into the party. But all you could come up with was a fruit flavored thingy that was sure to be unnecessarily sugary, and a size smaller than the pints you’d been drinking.

With a resigned sigh, you decided to take whatever fate was letting you have and shut the refrigerator’s door to lean against it as you popped open the can.

And then you saw him.

Keep reading

[joonsraincloud]

the prince’s cinderella syndrome (m) | p.jm. | one-shot

🎧 moon by jin of bts willow by taylor swift

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. a dash of jungkook x reader)

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | fluff | cursed!jimin | supernatural!au | strangers to lovers!au

summary:  He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn’t look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don’t know him - no one on campus does. You don’t know why he appears only once a year. You don’t know why he never smiles. But you can’t help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

warnings: swearing + alcohol consumption + mention of marijuana + black magic and curses + heartbreak + misunderstanding + mention of minor character deaths + inaccuracies abt the american education system + inaccuracies abt nasa & astronomy majors + a mish-mash of american and british english + implicit sexual situations + explicit sexual situations (fingering, oral (m+f), unprotected penetrative sex, semi-public sex, some marking, some dirty talk, some roughness, slight cock warming maybe? mostly pretty missionary stuff tbh) + jk deserves better :/ +  oc is a v. v. lonely girl :( + jimin is a v. v. sad boy :(

word count: 39.4 k 

note: aaand, it’s here! the biggest fic i’ve ever written! time constraint got to me w this one, but the next time i cross 25k, i’m turning the mf into a series 😃

thank you @missgeniality and @taegularities for your notes on the whole catalogue of banners i kept presenting you two with and for the tips i randomly asked for, @knjsnoona my bestie for being there whenever i hit u up and never letting my spirits wane, @ressjeon and naia, my loves, for letting me vent abt the fic to y’all and telling me abt your own failures to make me feel better! 😩

october has been a weird month. the busiest i have been all year with a lot of personal changes happened in my life, too, a lot of them leaning to the sadder side. writing this fic was like a comfort place for me through all of it. i will always look back at this and be proud of my strength. ❤

not beta-read because are you seeing the wordcount? i didn’t want people to hate me, smh. maybe i’ll ask for someone’s help later and update this, maybe i won’t. i hope y’all like this dive into the supernatural i have prepared for you~ 🥺💜

↣ written for the Jimin’s Sunset Spooktober collab hosted by @jamaisjoons @opaljm and @chateautae <3

↦ CROSS-POSTED ON AO3

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

⇥ halloween, freshman year;

You tugged at your unnecessarily short, white tulle skirt, grumbling curses at your roommate for encouraging you to dress up as whatever this sexy-angel-cum-stripper-shit was supposed to be. It was making you uncomfortable as hell, and you were hating coming to this party all the more because of it.

Right now, you were sticking to the shadows and hoping no one would approach you with another lewd proposition. You’d already turned three guys down – one more lecherous grin tossed your way, and you would bolt out of this place, Hyejin’s safety be damned.

You really didn’t understand how the girl had made so many friends here already that she got invited to every single party on campus, when you were literally three months into Freshman year. But that was just who your roommate apparently was – friendly, outgoing, party-loving.

You, on the other hand, had made a total of two friends so far in two separate classes, who spoke even fewer words than you did. And you despised huge gatherings where no one knew no one and everyone drank as if they were trying to please Dionysus into summoning him, like this Halloween party you were currently at. 

Hyejin knew you weren’t a fan of whatever acerbic drinks they served at such parties, so she’d designated you to be on the watch for her while she mingled and drank her body’s weight in alcohol. She tended to make stupid decisions about boys when she was drunk, and you were to keep watch in case some creep tried to take her away and she didn’t realise. But currently, Hyejin was hanging out with some close friends of hers and you believed she was in safe hands for the time being. Which is why you took some time to yourself, escaping the overwhelming bustle in this secluded corner of the house.

Now although you weren’t a fan of spiked punches and vodka shots, good brands of Beers were always tempting to you. And you needed at least some alcohol to tolerate this shit show. 

The exact reason why you decided to scrounge through the fridge for another drink when you were done with your third beer can, barely two hours into the party. But all you could come up with was a fruit flavored thingy that was sure to be unnecessarily sugary, and a size smaller than the pints you’d been drinking.

With a resigned sigh, you decided to take whatever fate was letting you have and shut the refrigerator’s door to lean against it as you popped open the can.

And then you saw him.

Keep reading

[joonsraincloud]

“ummmmm ur bra strap is showing :/ ”

[joonsraincloud]

a thousand reasons why | jjk (m)

Summary: “And if all of this experience was indeed a dream, you chose to stay just a little longer.”

After leaving to work towards his dream rather than the bonds that shackle him to home, you didn’t expect to see Jungkook again years later at your best friend’s wedding. And even less, for love to rekindle at second glance.

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: f2l; fluff, angst, smut, crack

warnings: a whole laundry list tf: (past) minor character death, somewhat toxic parents, (mentions of) gambling, blond & then 5th muster pied piper (fuckboy) jk lol, this jimin, jealousy, alcohol consumption, unrequited love (not between jk & oc), friends fighting; explicit multiple (2) sex scenes that include: dom & big dick!jk, light hair pulling, marking, tiddie sucking/breast play, clit pinching, pussy slapping, soft & rough sex, praising, biting, some spit ig, oral (f. & m.), fingering, handjob, consent <3, cockwarming, squirting, oversensitivity, multiple orgasms, mouth fucking,… uhh, consensual drunk sex, protected & unprotected sex…. yeah

word count: 43.1k (i sincerely apologise <3)

credits: such a beautiful banner by my lovely @taemaknae​​ <3 !! beta’d by @bangtanhome​​​ @hobiandsprite​​ & @missgeniality​​ - your brains are exquisite and this fic would be NOTHING without you !! & parts read by @hantaev​​ ILY ALL <3

a/n: i’m honestly SORRY for the wc lol pls still read tho, i worked so so hard on it :’) based on the 2013 movie YJHD! and a belated love letter to one of my favourite people in this world - happy birthday, jeon jungkook. i’ll always be inspired by your words and admire you forever <3

uploaded to AO3, too (for those who prefer pdfs or mobile readings!) + the fic is split in ‘Before’ & ‘Now’ - that way, you can read it in 2 sittings if you’d like <3

➳ listen to the (collaborative!) ATRW playlist for the full experience!

MASTERLIST | WIPs

The slowly vanishing light of the sun bathes the room in a golden glow when you close the door to your apartment behind you.

Coming home feels different today. With the boxes under your arms, you feel the weight of the postcards and invitations heavier than usual. After letting Dia ramble about the plans for the next few days, dreamy eyes drifting off now and then, you’ve grown increasingly tired this evening. And yet, you can’t wait to send off the cards that remain before the big day breaks in.

You lift the sunglasses from your eyes and place them on your head, not bothering to change your clothes before you sit down at your desk and start putting the invitations into envelopes. You wait and read with a thumping heart, fingers working through the pile quickly until you finally see it.

Keep reading

[joonsraincloud]

Bang and Burn [2]

Summary: After a few unfortunate run-ins with your bike, elite espionage agency BTS decides to flag you as “capture or kill”. Or fuck. Or marry. (Terms and conditions will probably apply.)

Pairing: OT7 x reader (poly)

Genre: Espionage/Hitmen AU, slow burn, chaotic BTS, chaotically whipped BTS, comedy, moral bankruptcy, annoying Namjoon into apoplexy, power exchange, friends to enemies, strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers, morally ambiguous characters, polyamorous, non-graphic violence, stressed!knj, LiteYandere!jjk, smol!pjm

Word count: 2.0 k

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 3]

[2021]

  On a brilliant summer day, Kim Namjoon, in his mission to kill you or interrogate you or whatever the fuck, scratches your bike.

Your favorite bike.

What kind of incompetent monster hurts an innocent bicycle.

“It was an accident! I only ever aim at you, nothing else, I swear,” Namjoon pleads, wibbles really, voice cracking feebly over the voicemail recording.

Keep reading

[joonsraincloud]

happy jungkook day! 💜 (970901)

"You are the sunlight that rose again in my life A reincarnation of my childhood dreams"

[joonsraincloud]

ain’t real cherry | p.jm. | one-shot (m)

🎧 candy by doja cat come my way by plvtinum

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. taehyung)

rating: m (18+) 

genre: smut | humor | fluff | touches of angst if you really squint | college!au | roommate!au

summary: Not to be too sickeningly romantic, but his wank bank needed a desperate overhaul if he was ever going to stop being pathetic. He was done envisioning his roommate in positions he would never actually get to see her in.

And maybe, just maybe, this exercise would get him back in the game and he would actually be able to fuck people without your face in his head to push him over the edge, every single time. 

warnings: swearing + unresolved (?) sexual tension + nude photos + vivid descriptions of curvaceous female bodies + careless objectification of said bodies by horny college students + mentions of masturbation + heavy making out + sexual situations (oral (m+f), penetrative sex, dirty talk, softdom!jimin, switch!reader, choking, manhandling, rough sex, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, overstimulation, marking) + unrequited (?) lustful (?) pining [citation needed] + fuckboy tae with a dick for brain + unintended allusions to Ryan Reynolds’ dick + mentions of blue beanbags + mentions of erect dingalings +  explicit conversations featuring dingalings + i realize these are getting progressively more ridiculous so ima stop

word count: 24.2 k

note: IT’S FINALLY HERE! so this was the result of me obsessively listening to doja cat’s candy and daydreaming about jimin. i wanted to make a pwp-ish drabble out of this concept, but yet again, i kept adding backstory and it was nearing 5k words by the time things actually started to get heated up for real, so i decided to actually add more depth and plot to it, and — here we are, at more than three times the initially planned wordcount. i’ve been slaving since the beginning of june. why am i like this??? 😩😭

it’s really more than 15k words of pure filth, proceed with caution!

a few honorable mentions in the form of @getmemyfries who constantly helped me push through and finish this up. ily bby. 🥺💕 @ressjeon​ @sugasbabiie​ & @jamaisjoons​ for helping me out in the BS server when i was stuck! i appreciate y’all loadsss! 🥰❤

annnywayyy, hope y’all like this one, while i go work on the jk birthday fic before going back to the youth series. much love~ 🥺💜

↦ CROSS-POSTED ON AO3

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

Late at night, do the things to him, mean that guy who Need someone who’s sweet enough, who’ll shoot to make that high note~

Park Jimin was having a surprisingly nice Wednesday. And you were the reason why.

The fact was surprising, because Wednesdays were one of the three days that housed the most despicable compulsory classes he’d ever sat in his life, Cognitive Psychology 101. He honestly still didn’t get why he, a finance major, was forced through this torture – what was up with this university and its combinations, he didn’t know. But since he had to endure it, he braved the class with a grimace and slumping on the very last row of seats in the lecture hall with Taehyung.

“You look happy today,” the guy in question mumbled around the lollipop in his mouth.

Jimin gave him a small grin, shrugging. “I just have these positive vibes going around my head this morning.”

Your words from this morning, aka, said positive vibes, still echoed in his head.

There’s this… guy I’ve kinda been thinking about. I’m, like, ready to put out if he’d take it, but I feel like I might be out of his league…

Keep reading

[joonsraincloud]

😭😭😭😭

[joonsraincloud]

to build a home | chapter one

pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. eventual smut

word count: 6.8k (y’all need context okay)

warnings: oof. oof. buckle up. angst, loads of angst! (im sorry), touches on subjects such as: depression (hints), postpartum depression, abandonment, mild prescription medication talk, loads of jk crying :(, loads of crying baby :(, swearing

author’s note: hi! this is a very self-indulgent storyline that sort of came to me and I just had to put thought into paper. well, I ended up really liking the plot and my mind started going places and now it’s all I can think about. i do have to say it’s going to be a bit of a slow burn but! not like this chapter though – this chapter had to be informative to set the context. my mans jk did not suffer for nothing! i hope cute baby / loving dad jk made up for all the angst in this! also! It’s gonna get sexy, ~sexy so just u wait! also! I don’t have a set schedule but this story is coming to me in heavy bursts of inspiration so I might be whipping chapters left and right (cross ur fingers). also! (the last one, promise) I hate Ira too :)

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter One

The digital clock on the console of his car marks six thirty pm on the dot. It makes Jungkook’s gaze shift to the sky – a synchronicity so perfect the sun begins to set right upon his eyes. Spring is easing into Summer and he can’t wait for the longer days and shorter nights the hot season bestows.

“We need one last look-over the contracts to finalize. I think the visit this weekend will finally see us wrapping this up. And then inauguration one month from now.” Seokjin’s voice fills the enclosed space of Jungkook’s car, a slight echo to his voice coming from the speakers.

“Sounds good, hyung. Good work.” He tells his cousin, right hand and the COO of his company.

“Hey, is Ira coming this weekend?” He asks. His question leaves Jungkook wondering. He assumes she will.

“Haven’t discussed it yet, could be good for her though. We can make a getaway of it.” He replies, head already swimming with ideas of how refreshing a family trip could be for the three of them.

“Alright, kid. Send my love.” Seokjin says, making him let out a light chuckle, before the line goes silent.

In the road ahead, the sun resumes its steady descend. His home comes to view at the very end of the street, the colours of the sky dancing against the sleek white walls. It’s been a long day and he’s tired. Now more than ever, with the inauguration of the new addition to his chain of hotels nearing, he craves the grounding feeling of being home – two familiar faces awaiting. One full of unconditional love.

He parks his cls next to hers, the sleek white shade contrasting against his black one. Grabbing his phone and keys from the cup holder, he exits the car, climbing the steps to his front door and inserting the code that unlocks it.

Home. He takes pride in the need he holds for it, how much he craves it, how much he wants to be the backbone of the one he built. The idea of family gets morphed when you’re brought into an immeasurable amount of wealth. His parents, although good intentioned, lacked the warmth he so badly wants to install in his own roots.

He wants his daughter to grow up in a house that doesn’t look like a showroom, a distinctive smell swarming its spaces, one she’ll hold in the back of her memory until she has kids of her own. Home, never lacking the coziness a touch of love can bring a space, no matter how vast. He wants her mother to be half of that love, more than anything. Because he wants that love for her, more than anything.

He heads upstairs, the house eerily quiet. It’s two hours to bed time and he assumes Ira is winding Soori down for the night.

He reaches the top of the stairs and begins walking down the long corridor, passing a room, then two, until he finally reaches Soori’s nursery. The door is wide open and as he steps in, he sees Ira standing in front of her crib, back to him, almost hovering. He sees Soori fast asleep, blanket covering her tiny body, pacifier moving gently to the in and out of her suckling, a tight grip on her favorite giraffe plushie on her chubby baby fist.

“Hey, beautiful.” He says to Ira, though she doesn’t move from the place he found her in. “Why is she asleep so early? Fun day?” He asks, voice filled with hope. He pictures the two of them by the warm sun, basking in the easiness of the season. They’ve been introducing Soori to the water – the idea of the two of them splashing in the big pool pulling his lips upwards in a soft smile.

It doesn’t linger, the smile. Ira turns around, a sombre look to her face, unable to hold his gaze for more than a second as she redirects her eyes to the floor.

“Jungkook…,” She begins, voice barely a whisper, but ever so stern.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, approaching her, instinctively resting his hands on her arms before they come up as she holds herself, bracing her front.

“I booked a job. In New York.” She says, eyes finally meeting his.

“Ahh! That’s great! That’s amazing, Ira.” Jungkook says, pulling her into a hug she doesn’t return. He knows how badly she’s been craving this. A breakthrough, a taste of independence – the power of knowing she could hold all titles whilst still being mom. “We can make a trip of it! We could all go.” He muses, excitement lacing his voice as he pulls away, eyes scanning for hers.

“It’s this weekend-” She begins, but his words bring hers to a halt.

“Ah, I have that business trip but hey, you take the plane, alright?” Jungkook knows how much Ira hates flying. Long haul flights doing a thing to her nerves that require a dose or two of her therapist’s strongest prescription drug. This all comes ironically, considering her title – It girl, world-renowned model, Ira Sommersmith.

“No, Jungkook. No.” She says, arms coming to rest at her sides, pushing his hold on them away as she takes one step back, creating distance between them. The action is loud to Jungkook, the emotional space between them being too much to bear for his heart and her actions breaking it all over again.

“Bab-” He stops himself, the pet name fresh on his tongue, remembering how she’s come to despise it as Jungkook began adapting it to Soori, too. “Ira.” He says, his voice a plead, a prayer. He doesn’t know what the prayer entails but he’ll start mentally chanting it, bracing himself for impact.

“I’m leaving, Jungkook. I need to- I need to go. For good.” Her voice lacks hesitation, no pause. He simply stares at her, dumbfounded, numb to the effect his body is taking, cold sweats breaking through him. “I’m sorry. This is- you play this role too well, Jungkook. I just can’t seem to follow the script.”

“It’s not a role.” Jungkook says, voice a whisper that makes his words hard to grasp to Ira, but she knows what he said. She knows he would say that. She takes him in, takes one last long look at his face before it breaks her. She’s not scared of backing down from her plan, she’s scared of seeing his eyes full of heart look into hers, a lack thereof.

And she can accept it. She can wholeheartedly confess she doesn’t have the heart it takes to become selfless, to give into the three that makes the whole – Jungkook’s line that he’s adapted to bring hope into the immense cloud of blue that fell upon her when it all became too real. When the idea of three became a reality one morning after he’d gone to work and she stared at the mirror, a bump bulging at the center of her otherwise lean physique. Her first thought wasn’t that of excitement but of confusion. It felt foreign and it took her aback so frantically she found herself calling her OB/GYN, voice shaky as she repeated, “it came out of nowhere, I just- I wasn’t showing yesterday…” Her panic was received by a faint laugh on the other line, reassuring her pregnancy had no fixed agenda and that her “little one” had decided to make him or herself known. She waited for the doctor’s words to hit, for the excitement to follow, but it didn’t. What truly broke her came next as the doctor took her silence for something else and ended her discourse with a, “surprise, mama!”

Ira brought her phone down, staring at the screen before abruptly hanging up. She’d hope the doctor would blame it on poor connection.

She went about her day in autopilot, waiting. Waiting for the new curvature her body was taking on to simply be an add on in the sea of hopes that her pregnancy had brought until that very morning. But it never came. It never came, and the tears that would stream down her face late at night when the world slept and the darkness accepted her thoughts as they came, weren’t due to the impatience of her heart longing to love the life she was forming inside of her. They came out of fear it would.

Ira’s heart wasn’t fragile. Quite the opposite – it lacked the fragility it requires to love unconditionally.

When Soori came into the world, she made her entrance kicking and screaming. Ira understood; the overwhelm of the space was getting to her, too. At least on that they could agree. Her wails filled the room and muffled her hearing, everything in slow motion as shock set upon her. The pain between her legs from delivering her minutes prior subsided as numbness took over. She could hear her cries nearing and she finally came out of her trance the moment the nurse placed Soori on top of her chest. She looked down at her, arms coming up to hold her tiny frame in place. And when she did, dense silence filled the room as she found comfort in her mother’s arms and her cries came to a rest, opening her eyes for the first time. Ira looked down once again and understood the meaning of unconditional love. Soori was warm against her and that’s when she knew she’d never be able to reciprocate said love. Cold shivers ran down every corner of her body, settling into her heart. She understood it, but she couldn’t feel it.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, “I tried.” The last words fade away as she turns around, taking one last look at her daughter, a part of her tries again, focusing on the heartstrings of her soul, waiting for the pull. Nothing comes and she closes her eyes, breathing in, knowing that'd be the last time she'd take in her daughter. She turns around, looking at Jungkook for a split second. He’s frozen in place, gaze lost, fixated on the pastel pink wall in front of him, unable to look at her. “Goodbye, Jungkook. You-,” she can’t tell if he’s listening but she finishes anyway, “you were good to me. Okay? You-,” she needs to get out of there, now. “Goodbye.” And with that, she leaves. Past the door of the nursery, not a beat behind, without second guessing. She leaves and doesn’t turn back to witness Jungkook’s world coming to a slow, quiet shatter. The sort of silence that settles into your bones uncomfortably.

His world stops and, in the numbness, he becomes hyperaware of his senses. He doesn’t miss her steps down the corridor and back, the sound of wheels against the floor distinct this time, down the stairs and finally, he hears the front door close.

Soori stirs behind him, a faint whine leaving her mouth as she begins to wake up.

~

Jungkook’s legs feel heavy, glued to the floor, and his eyes haven’t left that spot on the wall they fixated in when he realized that watching Ira leave would make it all that more painful. And so, he stands there, mind empty yet hazy with incoherent thoughts he can’t puzzle together. An ominous cloud fills the space as the sun finally sets and the room goes dark around him. For a minute, Jungkook basks in a thought surprisingly comforting: the worst thing has already happened. It takes him in and cradles him as he goes with that narrative.

It doesn’t last long. Soori’s cries from behind him sound distant, faint, for the briefest of seconds before they fully snap Jungkook out of his trance. His baby. He turns around and sees her little figure propped up against the bars of her crib, looking up at him, pacifier hanging from the string that attaches it to her sleeping gown. Her eyes are red and glassy with tears and he wonders for how long she’s been crying.

“Hey, hey…,” his voice is gentle, a soft coo as he reaches for Soori, flushing his chest to hers once he has her in his arms. His free hand coming up to cradle her head as he softly sways back and forth, “it’s okay, baby. I’m here… I’m here.”

Her crying comes to a halt but she fusses in his arms, little whines escaping her mouth as Jungkook settles into the rhythm he knows she finds soothing. It’s then that it dawns upon him – his brief encounter with comfort was a lie his brain told his heart. Delusion a form of survival. His hold on Soori’s head tightens a bit, almost as if to ease the impact his thoughts might have on her. The worst is yet to come. His tears fall freely now, fear and uncertainty tugging at his chest in a way that takes him aback with how physically painful it is. His hands shake and his legs feel weak, like they won’t be able to hold him, or the burden that settles through him for much longer.

He gives in before they give out, slowly lowering his legs as they cross until he can finally feel the soft fabric of the carpet underneath him. Soori’s tears release yet again the moment the swaying stops, the new position on the floor in her father’s arms making her even more restless. He holds her, whispering a string of sorry, sorry, sorry against her ear as he brings her soft cheek flush to his until their tears form an even stream of droplets falling down their faces, settling uncomfortably on their necks.

He loses track of time and he can feel, ever so distinctively, as his spirit weakens by the minute. Mind still in that haze that makes it hard to distinguish between an empty mind and a racing one. He can’t find the words and as soon as his worries fixate on one thing in particular, he swerves around it. Not really letting his brain linger on just one to nit-pick, instead preferring the overwhelm of them all combined, thrown at him together. He rather not know what exactly scares him the most about this situation.

Usually enticed by challenge, this one finds him unwilling. He wants nothing more than to lower his whole body to the floor, hold his baby and close his heavy lids until he falls into a deep slumber. But he knows he can’t. Soori can’t stay still. Soori crawls. Soori is small but mighty and it would take her a matter of minutes to find her way to the stairs. Soori’s cries bounce on the walls, getting louder and louder. He wonders if she had her night bottle. Soori nibbles on her hand the way she’s come to do as she teethes, face scrunched up in discomfort. Soori needs him.

Soori came into the world kicking and screaming and with a healthy shade of pink adorning her tiny body that finally made Jungkook release the breath he’d been holding from the moment he could see her head from his position next to Ira as he held her hand. His first thought was how small she was, he couldn’t shake the fear of having her in his arms, wondering if she’d fit just right. Her cries restored something inside of him he’d long lost when he was very young and the harshness of the world tumbled down upon him, stripping him of an innocence he knew he’d want his daughter to carry for as long as she could. The overwhelm in his heart when he cut her umbilical chord was the sweetest he’d experience; and when she was finally placed in her mother’s chest and he could allow the world to slow down around him to take in his daughter for the first time, he made an unspoken vow. Love would always be stronger. Hope would always prevail. As long as she needed him, those two would be the root of his every action. Strength found its way to a corner of his heart that was growing by the second the more he stared at Soori. He’d take on the bravery of the world so as to make hers softer. And he’d love her in all of his lives.

He gets up, body feeling lethargic but adjusting his grip on his daughter’s body, putting his whole consciousness there. He doesn’t trust his limbs.

“Are you hungry, baby?” He asks her. It’s rhetoric, for various reasons. “Yeah, you are.” He says, even though he’s not sure. He begins the trip towards the kitchen, forcing a mental strain to go about his every step. To wrap around his every thought. To figure out where to go from here.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs, stopping by the living room first to lay her gently on the couch before removing her sleeping gown, setting her free from the restraints and letting her legs kick at him. Her demeanour changed and when he stares into her eyes, slightly envious of how her tears have seemed to dry, she smiles at him. It’s a wide grin that flashes him her two little bottom teeth that are beginning to come through and his heart melts at the sight. His heart hurts but she nurses the wound slowly and he can’t help but smile back at her. It takes him aback at times – how in nine short months he’s come to grow so enamoured with this fun-sized version of a human that demands so much time, attention and energy from him. But it’s moments like these, when she shines light into his dark corners with just a smile, that he understands. She holds more power in her two peeking bottom teeth than half of the things Jungkook thought gave him purpose nine months ago when she made her entrance into the world. Kicking and screaming and pink.

He cradles her in his arms once again as he stands up and positions her to rest at his waist. She instinctively grabs his ear – another one of the habits she’d picked up recently. Jungkook likes knowing he’s able to soothe her, almost mindlessly. Something catches his eye and he recognizes it immediately. Ira’s phone, resting on top of the coffee table. He leans, tapping the screen until it flashes back at him. Her wallpaper is a picture of her and Jungkook, taken three years prior, at the beginning of their relationship. Their happy faces stare back at him – mocking him. He scoffs. Nothing’s funny but he’s laughing because he can’t allow himself a fit of anger right now. And crying sounds too exhausting, his eyes too tired.

It hits him again, not that he needed much confirmation. It hits him that she’s not looking back. It hits him that she left with every intention to not spare them a second glance. It hit him that wherever she is, their realities are so different now. The moment she walked out that door she left nothing and everything that mattered behind. She freed herself from her role and walked steadily into the direction of whatever she deems as freedom. Ira was never one to ease into things. It used to be something that excited him. He looked at her and at times his brain painted flames of fiery orange seeping through her. Bold, confident – fearless.

He stands in front of the kitchen counter, one handing the process of making Soori’s bottle. Eyes lost, not really following the formula as it goes inside the bottle, the water – its temperature. Too hot? No, too cold. He puts it inside the bottle warmer, pushes the button and waits. He asks himself if he’s surprised or just heart broken. Mentally, he shakes the Jungkook from two hours ago and asks him, “did you not see it coming? Were you trying or were you lying to yourself?” The conclusion he draws feels like not enough. He saw it coming, yes. For over a year now he’s felt like the path he’s been walking went from eggshells to shattered glass – unavoidable, painful, way too fucking loud. So, he knew. He knew his feet would give out. He knew she was going to cut through all of him one day. Yet as much knowledge as he held when it came to his situation, he could’ve never seen this coming. He’d imagine their impending doom hitting him in the face eventually. They weren’t married, she could just leave at any moment. She could leave him at any moment. He’d set her free and he’d still give Soori a home, doubled in love to make up for her parent’s distance and the back and forth she’d have to endure. He would’ve tried. More couple’s therapy, individual counselling, all the help he could muster to get from friends and family. Trips to bond, trips to escape. He did all that and he would’ve done more. Because he loved her. He loves her.

He’s not sure when their love became mechanical, a form of habit. Disappointment tends to do that to people, he reckons. But he still did love her and he tried. Not just because of Soori but because of Ira, too. And because of them. Not the three, but the two they used to be. The same two that rest on top of his coffee table, trapped inside a memory forever, unaware of the future ahead but so hopeful. He loved the love they had and so for that reason, he loved her.

The bottle warmer beeps and he takes it out of the sleek looking machine. Soori bounces in his hold, excited. “Come on, missy. Let’s have dinner.” He tells her and she throws some unintelligible baby noises at him.

He heads back to the living room and sits them down on the couch. He props Soori against a pillow and feeds her the bottle. What are we going to do, he thinks, but brushes the thought away. This weight falls on his shoulders and he makes yet another unspoken vow as he stares down at her. He promises her a soft impact, painless whenever it can. He promises to hold her and coax her through it, to ease the burden and to explain with lullabies when the time is right. He stares at her until her eyes flutter, beginning a sleepy dance as she fights to stay awake, holding her feet in her small hands. A silent tear falls down his eyes and that’s the last sight, slightly blurry because of her long eyelashes, between her heavy lids before she falls into a peaceful slumber.

~

He paces around the living room. He paces the way he does when ideas are brewing inside his head at work – new locations, new investors, new partnerships. Ideas, ideas, ideas. He’s good at coming up with them. He’s good at quick solutions to whatever problem might arise – it’s what made his father ease so effortlessly into an early retirement after teaching Jungkook the ins and outs of the so-called empire he now calls his.

Soori sleeps on the couch. The pillow she’d been propped up in now besides her, building a barrier between her body and the soft cushions. He knows she’d be off better in her crib but the idea terrified him, made him feel alone.

Ideas, ideas, ideas yet he can’t come up with a single one. A part of him tells him there’s not much left to do. It tells him that it’s been done. That it’s time to move on with his life, with their lives. But the mere idea of taking the leap – of moving on, finds him scared, confused and shatters him more and more. It also reminds him of the way she so casually walked out, like it didn’t matter. She set flame to the fire and didn’t even linger around long enough to watch it burn. It angers him, her carelessness. He’s not like that, never has been, and he’s not going to start now. He knows forcing himself to move on will only repercuss in him breaking even further in the long run. So, his first idea is to face the reality. But he can’t right now, he feels too alone, too small. He has to push his heroic persona aside and admit defeat. And so he does.

His second idea finds him seeking comfort. He can’t be comfort to Soori if he’s just breaking. He knows he’s going to break; he knows this is just the beginning, but he needs there to be more to it. He retrieves his phone from his back pocket, inhaling loudly as he unlocks it. He needs a friend. He has a couple, another thing he takes pride in, but he knows this situation is way too sensitive. He thinks of Seokjin, his contact the most recent call on his phone, but he quickly diverts. Suelgi, his wife, had grown rather fond of Ira and in a way, she’d become her confidant amidst the whirlwind that was motherhood. He doesn’t feel like delivering news that will require him comforting someone else to that extent – he can barely comfort himself, let alone his friend.

His eyes find Taehyung’s name on the screen, also a recent contact on his call history. Yes, good – this is good. Taehyung is good. Him and Mai have been a constant in Jungkook’s life for as long as he can remember. He’s seen them go from high school sweethearts to a painful college breakup that luckily ended up in them finding their way back to each other. It took Taehyung approximately 37 days to ask her to marry him. He’d never seen two people sport a last name with more pride – The Kims. Nowadays they also go by mom and dad. They’re Soori’s godparents and Jungkook’s best friends. He taps on his contact and the first ring against his ear sounds obnoxiously loud. His head pounds against his skull.

“Yo, you’re on speaker phone!” Taehyung’s voice, enthusiastic as always, fills the speakers. Jungkook stays quiet.

“Ggukie, we were just about to call you!” It’s Mai’s voice on the phone now. “Dae is down for the night and we just popped open that bottle of Don Julio 1942 Tae got after the inauguration of the gallery. He had an early mid-life crisis after Monsters Inc had him shedding tears before bedtime.” Jungkook can hear Taehyung’s gasp of offense at his wife’s confession somewhere in the background. He’s unable to make a sound as Mai continues. “He’s insisting we do something crazy to ‘feel young again’ so shots on a Wednesday it is!” she mocks.

“I…,” Jungkook begins – but where does he even start?

Taehyung grabs the phone from Mai, “come on, tell Irie. Soo can sleep in Dae’s old bassinet.”

“Ira’s gone.” He blurts out. It’s abrupt and probably not the best way to break the news but the pet name breaks him and he doesn’t think he can stay in their bliss for a second longer.

“Gone where?” Taehyung asks innocently and even though his question makes Jungkook’s temple throb in pain he doesn’t pin it against him.

But silence is all he can offer.

“Oh…,” Mai starts – intuitive as ever. Her voice is soft, and already Jungkook releases a bit of tension in his shoulders, knowing she understood. “Oh, Gguk…”

“I just-”

“Come over, Gguk. Or we can go – as you wish. Just say the words.” Mai comforts.

“No, I’ll go. I need to get out of here.” And those are the surest words that leave his mouth that night.

~

He’s gentle with Soori as he straps her into her car seat. She’s a heavy sleeper, just like him, but he still holds his breath as he settles her down and gets her ready for the road. He double checks the diaper bag and when everything ticks off his mental list he heads for the driver’s seat.

Soori sleeps and he tries to focus on the road and just the road. No music on the stereo. Just full focus on what he can see from his windshield as he takes turns on the wide streets of his neighbourhood and mental turns in his head, swerving all the painful thoughts away.

The quiet lasts maybe a total of three minutes before Soori’s wide awake and back to inconsolable crying. She’s not a whiny baby – her demeanour often praised for being so peaceful, big eyes taking in the world around her as she graces it with her softness. But she’s been in and out of sleep, out of schedule, and Jungkook knows she misses Ira.

Because when Ira said she tried, she wasn’t lying. She tried, she did. She breastfed until it was physically painful. She did the exhausting night feeds right alongside Jungkook and then what felt like ten years with no rest as Soori was sleep training. She gave her baths, took her to Thursday brunch with her friends, read her books before bedtime. When they took weekend trips to get away from routine, Ira got this aura about her – something bordering on happiness that she carried so effortlessly. It would leave Jungkook hopeful – but his hopes would crash the moment they settled back home. Her therapists’ suggestions for bonding with Soori all made sense to Ira. In fact, they were so good she almost believed them. Sometimes they would have long days in the sun, fun family gatherings where the affection Jungkook’s parents would give Soori would fill her with something that almost felt like pride. They would sit in the grass of their big garden and watch her play with his family dog and a glimpse of hope would knock on the closed doors of her heart. Those days felt so good, but the sun eventually set and the air would feel sombre again as they drove back to their house. Totheir lives. Deep within, Ira wished she could enjoy the day without having to take it back home with her.

The love Ira gave Soori was also mechanical. But Soori didn’t know better – all she saw was love. And warmth. And the smell of her mom’s clothes as she rocked her to sleep. The sound of her voice as she begged her to, ‘please be good. Please don’t cry. I can’t take it anymore,’ when Jungkook would leave and she’d have a whole day ahead of a life that felt like a chore. All Soori heard was lullabies because she doesn’t know better.

“We’re almost there, baby. Shh, Soo. You’re alright, pretty girl.” He says, but he doesn’t think she can hear him with how loudly she’s crying.

Soori misses her mom.

Jungkook cries, too. And, taking advantage of her high-pitched mewls that fill the confined space, he sobs too.

~

Jungkook parks behind Taehyung’s car in their driveway. He grips the steering wheel, afraid the moment his friends take them in it will all become too real. He sits there – Soori’s cries less sporadic this time, almost like she gave up on getting her father’s attention. He opens his door, welcoming the soft breeze inside his car for a brief moment before he’s closing it and heading towards the backseat.

Mai had been standing next to her window for the past fifteen minutes. Heir brain had been running around in circles, wondering how exactly things escalated, how they got to this point. She fears for her friend’s sanity, knowing Jungkook had been walking a thin line for as long as her memory remembers her very own excitement over Soori’s prompt arrival.

She sees his car drive in front of her house, taking a swift turn until he’s finally parked in her driveway. She can’t see much but she can paint a mental picture of Jungkook just sitting there, lost – an expression she’s seen him adapt more and more lately. She perks up at the sight of him but her face falls into a frown the minute she sees him walk back to the backseat.

“What-?” she whispers to herself. “Tae, Gguk is here. With… Soori,” she says, watching her little head come out of the backseat of his car.

“Soori?” Taehyung asks, confusion lacing his voice, a frown adorning his face.

Mai walks quickly to the front door, opening it before Jungkook reaches it. His eyes meet hers and he sighs. He notices her eyes fixated on Soori, who’s own are red and swollen from crying, whimpers still leaving her lips. Her breath is erratic and Jungkook feels her little body jolt as she begins to let out another cry. Mai’s confused expression lets Jungkook know that of course, his friends were expecting Ira to leave him. They were expecting Soori to leave him, too, by pure default. That’s just how the narrative usually unfolds, doesn’t it?

But the narrative isn’t catering to Jungkook’s best interests. Their narrative is far from what you would consider normal.

“Come in, Gguk. What-,” she begins, but opts not to bombard him with the hard questions right away. “Come in.”

Taehyung immediately reaches for Soori who falls into his arms seamlessly. “Hey, princess. Hey, you’re alright Soori girl. Come here.” He coos and she begins to soften at his voice, “that’s a big girl. Stop growing up.” He tells her, his last request a whisper, as he brings her cheek to his, holding her in embrace – comforting her.

Jungkook steps inside their home, its warmth embracing him immediately and he’s glad he came here.

Taehyung and Mai got an unexpected influx of money before Dae was born. The gallery they’d been running attracting a different sort of crowd all of a sudden. The curiosity and modernity of the curation they’d put their hearts and souls (and savings) into attracting a crowd of curious yet wealthy collectors, investors and sole lovers of the craft. One turned into two galleries, then three and now recently, four. They amount their success to the faith of the people, the artists and the consumers and the ones that were simply driven by the passion for it. Mai was seven months pregnant when they upgraded from their small one-bedroom apartment to their four-bedroom, white picket fenced home. The very first materialization of that first taste of big-time money.

The first words she let out when she stepped inside were, “I can’t wait for toys to litter these shiny floors.” And litter them they did, giving it a feel of family Jungkook admired and promised himself his own wouldn’t lack. Ira hated clutter though.

“Let’s sit down, okay?” Mai says calmly, holding onto his arm. His steps are a bit hesitant and wobbly – if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was drunk.

“Okay.” He returns.

Taehyung follows behind him, a quiet Soori nuzzled against his shoulder, breath fanning the crook of his neck that grows steadier within the second. Now more than ever, Jungkook is grateful for the soothing effect he has on her.

He sits down, Mai occupying the spot besides him. Taehyung stays positioned on his feet before them, gently swaying Soori from side to side as her body grows limp, temping sleep.

His head comes forward, gaze fixated on his shoes. He breaks. “She left us. She just… left. Said she’d booked a job in New York. I thought she’d be gone for a week at most. But then she said she’d be gone for good. She,” his words get stuck in his throat, pain unleashing inside of him all over again at the fresh memories, “said she tried. Took one last look at Soori and then just… left.”

As soon as his recollection of the story comes to an end, he realizes just how short it was. His life came to an abrupt stop and then took a 180 degree turn in the span of what Jungkook deems to have been five minutes.

He never wants to utter the words she said again.

He’s crying and Taehyung wants nothing more than to hold him, let him know that it will all be okay. But he’s finding it hard to believe it himself, so he leaves the words of comfort to Mai. His arms instinctively wrap tighter around Soori – heart breaking at the realization she’d been abandoned, too.

“Come here,” Mai says, wrapping her arm around him and letting him cry, head against her shoulder, his own shaking as silent tears spill from his eyes.

“Do you think she’ll come back, Gguk?” Taehyung asks, even though he knows the answer. He’s always found it easier to console after knowing the facts, not believing in the whole ignorance is bliss bullshit.

He shakes his head. His voice is quiet when he says, “No. She left her phone behind, her half of the closet was empty. I’m not even sure it’s New York where she was headed.”

Mai shakes her head in disbelief. Her motherly instincts take on flight or fight mode as she tries to grasp just how someone could do something like that.

“Okay…,” Taehyung begins, sitting down next to him. “Listen to me,” but Jungkook’s gaze is still transfixed to the floor. “Jungkook-ah.”

“Huh?” He says, voice distant, eyes still lost.

“We’ll figure it out. Okay? You and Soori- you’re not alone. We’re here and we’ll figure it out. You’ve got us, the both of you.” Jungkook nods at his friends’ words. Taehyung rests his head on top of his shoulder. He’s grateful for his reassurance, even if he doesn’t fully believe it.

They don’t press on any further, well aware this is not the time to dissect the situation. He lets Mai pull him to his feet. She asks him a couple of questions that he can’t fully follow so he shakes his head at every single one of them. With Soori asleep in Taehyung’s arms, he lets himself disassociate.

He follows Mai up the stairs, Taehyung right behind them. He doesn’t complain when the darkness of their guest bedroom impairs his sight slightly, finding comfort in its density. The feel of the bed against his aching body lulls him into something that almost feels like peace – senses calming down slightly, as if telling him the day has finally come to an end.

Taehyung is detaching Soori from his body, lowering her down towards the bassinet besides the bed. Jungkook jumps from his resting position in the bed, startling Mai who tries holding him back instinctively.

“No. Put her here. She- she needs to sleep with me, she-” His voice is frantic.

“It’s okay, Gguk. Look, she’s here.” Taehyung places her in the bed next to her father who follows the baby’s movement as his own head hits the mattress.

Mai builds a makeshift fort of pillows that surround Soori’s tiny frame, stacking one on top of the other for good measure. She makes a mental note to check up on her throughout the night.

“Baby monitor. Just in case he doesn’t wake up.” Taehyung says, placing one of the devices in the bedside table.

“Tae,” Mai starts but she doesn’t really know where the sentence was going. Shock settles upon her.

“I know.” He says.

“Fuck, Tae. What is he-,” Mai makes sure to hear for Jungkook’s soft snores before she finishes, “Soori’s only nine months old. How could she just leave?”

Taehyung wraps his arm around Mai, bringing her close to his chest as the same fear she’s feeling begins taking over him, too. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, baby. I- we’ll figure something out. It’ll be alright.”

Soori twitches in place, letting out a loud sigh that has Mai sure will be followed by another restless string of sobs. But Jungkook places his hand on her tummy, eyes still closed, gently rocking her as he lets out a soft coo, something so faint they can’t quite make up his words. But his daughter relaxes against his touch, falling back into a peaceful sleep.

Fear plagues him but Taehyung is sure of the words that fall past his lips next.

“They’ll be alright.”

~------------~

i hope you enjoyed! stream butter to mend those hearts if you’re hurting as much as me over this mess! if you liked this I would love to know and to chat all about it – or about whatever u want, i want army friends :) lots of kisses!!!! xxxxxx

[joonsraincloud]

commercial break: twelve

this is part of my netflix & chill series a prelude to part 10 <3

SUMMARY Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.  WARNING none !! we r safe MISC jk and doyeon mortal enemies, nearly everyone is mentioned, thank u namjoon, jk loves oc, the end <3 jimin makes his first appearance O_O WC 1.4k

NOTES we just having fun with it!!! jk’s friendship with everyone else <3

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[joonsraincloud]

A comprehensive list of content creators that I enjoy (and deserve more recognition). None of the blogs listed here belong to or are owned by me. Not all the blogs on this list are my mutuals or my friends, but they have been handpicked by me for content and content creation only. This post will also be updated as I find new content to conSUME and enjoy. Thank you!

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