Summary: During your first convention as an actress on Supernatural, you get stuck on an elevator with Misha. He calms you when you start to panic, and somehow things lead to smut.
bye bye summary skills
A/N: I had a dream and it had to be written. And idk about the title. Maybe it’s overused but it’s appropriate.
Pairing: Misha x Reader
Warnings: language, claustrophobia induced panic attack, Misha being a fucking sweetheart (becuase what else would he be in this situation??), oral (male receiving), smut…technical public smut because it’s in an elevator
Word Count: 1.9k
It was your first convention since getting a role on Supernatural, and you were excited. You hadn’t really gotten to meet many fans yet, but according to the internet, there were going to be tons at this convention. You had your own panel scheduled, along with photo ops, and tons of other fun activities.
You made your way out of your room and walked down the hall to the elevator, you wanted to get downstairs early as there was a storm coming in. Which was technically already here. You could hear the thunder outside. The doors to the elevator were just beginning to shut when you started sprinting down the hall.
“Hey! Wait!” you called. Luckily, you saw a hand reach out and stop the doors for you.
okay so i have a request okay so riding seb's (or one of his character's) thigh with daddy kink and hella dirty talk i will love u forever
Sebastian always carried himself differently when he arrived home from a long movie shoot; he’d spend months away from you, only catching up with you over texts or late-night Skype sessions, which was never enough for either of you. The moment he set foot in the front door of your loft, the entire mood would shift.
“Get over here.” His voice is stern, something that went along with his personality change. You do as you’re told, crossing the room to meet him at the kitchen table. He turns one of the chairs around so the back is against the side of the table, before he sits down. “Take your panties off,” he says, hiking his basketball shorts higher up his legs.
Your eyes are already on the muscular thighs, studying them momentarily before you hear Sebastian clear his throat. Your eyes meet his again, as you slip your panties off from under your skirt. Sebastian holds his hands out to you, plastering a sideways smirk on his lips.
Your fingers tremble as you place your hands in his. He guides you to straddle his right thigh, setting your hands on his shoulders. Your eyes found his, noting the clouded gaze he gave you. You aren’t sure what he has in mind, but you don’t wonder long as you feel his hands slipping down your spine, landing at the curve of your hips.
“Remember when you told me how much you love my thighs?” His hands drag your hips forward, rubbing your wet core against his bare thigh. A smile pulls at your lips, as you begin to understand what he’s suggesting. Your hands grasp the back of the chair, rolling your hips on him. “Fuck, your pussy is wet already,” he whispers, dropping his hands to dangle at his sides while he watches the way you grind on his thigh.
Your motions are slow, deliberate; you’re trying to get as much friction from him as possible, but he remains still, implying that you should be doing all of the work. Suddenly, Sebastian bounces his leg, giving you that sought after friction; you yelp, arching your back from the unsuspected motion.
“C'mere,” Sebastian mumbles, grabbing a handful of your hair and dragging your head to his. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, coming home and letting you hump my thigh.” You try to focus on your motions, but you know that Sebastian had only just begun his dirty talk. “Do you like how it feels, baby? Do you like grinding your pussy on my thigh?”
“Yes, Seb.” Your voice is breathier than you expected, which gives Sebastian a self-assured chuckle. His grip tightens on your hair, yanking you forward to press your forehead to his.
“If you like it so much, maybe you should fuck it harder, like a good slut who wants to get off.” His piercing blue eyes are clouded over, looking into yours. “I want to feel you come on my thigh. I want to feel your sloppy, wet cunt dripping on me. That way, I know you’re ready for me to take you in our bedroom and shove my cock inside of you while you’re still trembling and moaning for me. How does that sound?”
“Good, so good,” you pant out. You bring your hands to the edge of the table, using it to help you pull yourself. Sebastian grins, tensing the muscles of his leg so you can feel it as you grind on him faster. “Fuck, Sebastian, this is–” He bounces his leg again, earning another yelp from you, your hands dropping to his shoulders as you pull your self closer to him.
“Goddamn, that pussy is so slick,” he groans, helping tilt your head so his lips are by your ear. “I never thought it would get my dick so hard feeling your pussy on my thigh like this. God, baby girl, you’re gonna get it.”
You let out a shuddered breath, grinding yourself faster on his thigh. It never occurred to you that riding his thigh would be able to get you off, but you could feel yourself getting close to your climax already. Sebastian senses it, feeling the way your movements are becoming too messy; his hands take hold of your hips, holding you down harder as he forces his leg up.
“You’d better come fucking hard. Get your pussy quaking for me. I know you like this, you’re so goddamn filthy.”
Sebastian’s head is tilted down, eyes on your face as you begin to climax. You hear him mumbling under his breath, telling you how sexy you look and how he loves the feeling of your pussy dripping on his leg. Your orgasm is more intense than anything you’d experienced it a long time; you clench your legs around Sebastian’s, letting out a ragged moan of his name.
“Fuck, I knew you’d be into the freaky shit, baby.” Sebastian helps you to your feet, steadying your body when he notices your legs shaking. “But, fuck me, look at how wet you got my thigh.” Your eyes trail over his leg, plainly seeing your juices covering his thigh. “Get in the bedroom, because I’m not done with you yet.”
Summary: Blind dates always suck, but this one will be her last.
A/n: So this is another combination with a request, something with an ‘unconventionally attractive’ looking reader. So there’s that in here as well as it being a little bit of someone’s request for ‘Shape of you’ (it takes place in a bar) and an idea of my own sooo I hope you enjoy it :)
ship: portgo word count: 1596 warnings: none really apart from some vaguely sexual references (this is like a light PG) happy birthday @leclercq brat port wishes u a happy one too even tho he’s a selfish bitch <3
“I hope you’re taking me somewhere nice tonight,” Porter says and Hugo looks up over his newspaper to watch him expertly slick a top coat on his nails.
They’re red today; a deep, almost bloody crimson - Hugo’s favourite on him, if he had to choose, though Porter looks good in everything - and he’d done them all himself after the woman at the salon had botched his last manicure.
She doesn’t work there now, needless to say. Hugo had made sure of that. Technically she’s not even a French citizen anymore.
“Of course, trésor,” Hugo says. “I’ve already made reservations.”
Porter looks up from his nails and shrugs, quirks a condescending sort of smile. “I’m sure it’ll be passable.” His dressing gown, a silky black thing, slips down to expose his collarbone and the arch of his shoulder.
Theory time: Neville’s boggart isn’t actually Snape.
Now I know what you’re thinking. “What do you mean it isn’t Snape? It’s in the books and the movies and yada yada yada”. Cool off and let me explain.
Boggarts represent what we fear the most, correct? But it doesn’t necessarily have to be literal. Harry’s boggart was a dementor, but it wasn’t the dementor itself Harry feared, but the feelings they inspired in him. Helplessness, weakness, and the inability to save/help his mother. Harry is afraid of that feeling of weakness, not the dementor itself, but the way it makes him feel.
Same with Hermione. In a post I can’t find but I’m sure you’ve all seen, someone explains that Hermione’s boggart of “failing everything” and "being expelled" is representative of Hermione’s fear of being kicked out of the wizarding world, of rejection. Not necessarily failing, though I’m sure that’s part of it, but the feeling of being rejected and pushed away.
Now, Neville. I think his actual boggart is the feeling of inadequacy. Think. From what we’ve heard about Neville’s life, Neville’s been singled out as inadequate his entire life and disastrous consequences because of it. His Great-Uncle Albie or whatever his name was thought his magic was inadequate, and pushed him off a pier and dangled and dropped him outside a window and who knows what else. His grandmother is constantly holding him against his parent’s standard of character, making him feel lacking. I seem to recall Neville not wanting the boggart to turn into his grandmother, either. And just before the lesson began, Snape made a remark that made Neville feel inadequate to be practicing magic, causing the boggart to don the guise of Prof. Snape.
I bet you anything that if Neville encountered a boggart on the summer holidays, it would take the form of his grandmother or great-uncle or the last person that made him feel like not enough.
Tetsurou leans on the edge of the pool, looking up at gorgeous, thick thighs encased in tight black legskins. He’s never seen a better sight in his entire life, and he could stare forever. There could be a way to improve it, though, and he looks up into Daichi’s face to tell him so, gaze tripping up over abs and gloriously defined forearms crossed over his chest.
“You know, Daichi, you would look fantastic in a speedo.”
Daichi raises an eyebrow at him. “And you would look fantastic actually swimming.”
“I look fantastic all the time, Captain.” Tetsurou grins and pushes off the wall, letting himself float in the water a bit. “You should join me.”
Daichi drops down and dangles his legs in the water, bracing his hands to either side of his thighs. “You know we shouldn’t be here, right? Just because we’re in charge of the team doesn’t give us free rein.”
Tetsurou hums and swims back to where Daichi sits, sliding his wet arms around Daichi’s waist. “But it’s fun to do things we’re not supposed to sometimes.” Daichi smiles and shakes his head, and Tetsurou tugs at him, trying to urge him into the water. The pool itself is lit, making the water shimmer around them, but the rest of the building is dark and quiet, empty except for them. Tetsurou thinks it’s the best time for them to swim together, where it’s not important for Daichi to pay attention to the rest of the team, where Tetsurou can stop and stare at Daichi cutting through the water without getting reprimanded.
He stares now, as Daichi slips into the water with all the grace of someone who’s been born to do it, stares and stares as he watches Daichi swim to the opposite end of the pool only to stop on the other side. Daichi cocks his head to one side, and his voice echoes in the mostly empty building. “You coming, or you wanna stand there and stare some more?”
The mischievous grin on Daichi’s face is almost the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, second only to the fond smile that he thinks Tetsurou doesn’t see him make at him when he thinks he’s not looking. Tetsurou grins back and dives under the water, boxing Daichi in against the wall before he’s even processed crossing the water. “I could stare some more from here, but I’d rather do something else.”
“Would you?” Tetsurou closes his eyes, and feels the softness of Daichi’s lips against his own. When he opens them again, he’s staring up into Daichi’s amused face. “Would you wake up already?”
“Oh.” Tetsurou shakes his head, and Daichi just smiles at him as he backs away. “This isn’t a pool.”
“No. No, it’s not. Interesting dream?”
He sits up and rubs his eyes, still stuck halfway between worlds, mind hazy. “Yeah. We were on the swim team. At the same high school.”
Daichi laughs, takes Tetsurou’s hand to lead him to the kitchen, where there’s fresh coffee waiting for him. “Sounds fun.”
Tetsurou looks down at where his shirt that Daichi is wearing ends, gazes at those gorgeous, muscled legs. “Hey, Dai. Have you ever thought about wearing a speedo?”
Nor can it make things better, or force our hearts to heal.
Time is now a measure, of the days since you’ve been gone,
Of getting by the best we can, and trying to be strong.
Time should mend a broken heart, that is what they say,
But time will never change the fact that you have gone away.
Celestia and Gentle had just returned from a trip to Saddle Arabia. It was always fun, and the ponies there a joy to talk to. Gentle smiled as he stopped at Sparky’s room, the door slightly ajar, looking forward to see his son. “Hey Sparky… we’re hom-”
As soon as he pushed the door open a bucket of water landed on his head. Gentle was a bit shocked, the bucket staying on his head as he slipped, landing at the tail of his son. Solar was in full laughter mode, tearing up as he watched his Dad perform a slapstick act for his amusement. Gentle used his wings to remove the bucket.
"Sparky…“ Solar finally got to his hooves and gave his dad an innocent look. "Yes?” Gentle could almost see the halo. “We just get back… and somepony wants to be grounded…?” Sparky giggled.
"C'mon dad it was funny!“ Celestia had come to see what had happened and was laughing a bit as well. Gentle couldn’t be too mad at them as he finally managed to get to his hooves. "Alright alright… you’re getting off easy this time…”
Celestia giggled a bit more as she went to their room to change out of her formal attire. The door opened and large plastic spider dropped and dangled in front of her face. She screamed and slipped in her panic, falling into the wall upside down. Two guards came running.
"Your majesty! Are you alright?!“ Tia sighed, not amused, as Solar was once again in a fit of glee.
"I am fine. Go back to your duties.” they saluted and left. Sparky continued to laugh as a yellow glow surrounded him. “Whoa, mom, it was just a prank! Calm down!”
Gentle slowly helped her up as she brought her son over to her. He was trapped and knew what was coming. Gentle pulled two feathers from his wings, Celestia taking them both and then started to tickle their son mercilessly. “No! Mom! Stop! I’m sorry!” he was laughing so hard, trying to get out of the spell, but nothing doing.
After a few minutes she set him down and released him. “I think that’s enough punishment for that… Well, actually…” Solar looked up to Celestia confused. She smiled, a vicious smile, that only a mom could unleash. “I think the kitchen staff need a break from their nightly cleaning.” Sparky’s eyes widened.
"NOOO! Mom, c'mon! That’s just mean!!“ She smiled and suddenly hugged him to her, giving him a kiss of the cheek. "Gotcha.” He sighed in relief and nuzzled into her. “I really just missed you and dad. It’s always so boring around here. The guards are no fun, and the kitchen staff are big ol’ meanie heads.”
Gentle smiled as he walked up next to them. “We’ll see what we can do… to maybe bring you next time…” Celestia frowned, some of the places they traveled were a bit dangerous for a child. Her face then lit up. “How about next time we ask your aunty Twi and Lulu to watch you. You always have fun with them.”
Solar’s eyes widened as he smiled big, nuzzling into his big mom some more. “That would be great! They are so much fun and I can play with Pterus too!!” Gentle smiled. “Well we have to go out of town again… next week I believe… so I think that’s plenty of time to get the okay from them…” He started running around, jumping and giggling.
"It’s gonna be so much fun!“ Then he stopped yawned loudly. Gentle smiled and picked him up onto his back. "Bed time… how about you snuggle with us tonight… buddy…?” Sparky wrapped his legs around his dad’s neck and nuzzled him, Celestia smiling warmly. “I guess that’s a yes.”
Below are some staples that I believe every lady, especially one who is sugaring, should have in their closet. (or have their SD purchase these items ) Any designer or high quality brand can be substituted for those I list below; these are just my personal favorites.
Can take you from casual Friday, to happy hour at Ulysses in minutes.
Black blazer (I love BCBG)
Dark blue skinny jeans
Classic black leather handbag (your designer of choice)
Black pumps (these are by Jimmy Choo)
I’ve never been one to go with the crowd… A little white dress is elegant, yet extremely sexy.
Little white dress
Nude pumps (Louboutin)
Nude clutch (Chanel)
Elegant wrist watch
Tear drop dangle earrings
Definitely stock up on some high quality rain/snow gear… so you can look cute & stay warm/dry no matter what the weather is like.
Leather Boots (Ralph Lauren)
Cashmere sweater (Burberry)
Durable umbrella that stands out
Cashmere scarf (Tory Burch)
Every lady needs that one red dress that will captivate the entire room.
Knock out Red Dress (by Valentino)
Because sometimes a Bombshell 2 cup pushup swimsuit in leopard just won’t cut it at Gurney’s Montauk.
Request: Could u please do Mingyu + 16 please❣️THANK YOU SOOO MUCH AND I LOVE UR WRITING SOOOO MUCH!!
16) Your bias confesses through text message while sitting next to you
Member: Seventeen’s Mingyu x Y/N x (ft. Wonwoo)
“Okay, but like which one is the best?” Mingyu whispered, his shoulder flush against mine.
I eyed my phone screen warily, trying to focus on the six different selcas he had just airdropped.
“These are literally all the same picture,” I sighed, flipping through them.
“Are not! See that one, I gave a subtle side eye. And that second one, I’m serving serious pout. And then that one, I-” he insisted, scrolling through each image.
“Have you been watching Next Top Model again?” I grumbled, shaking my head. “Any of them can work MIngyu, honestly.”
“Hey best friend stealer,” Wonwoo sighed, plopping on the opposite side of me. “Trying to give pretty boy guidance on which selca he should post?”
“I am no stealer, you can take him back at any time. I wouldn’t be offended,” I sighed. “And yes, please tell him any of them are fine.”
Mingyu held up his screen and flipped through the photos quickly, Wonwoo nodded at each one.
“I like the second one, you’re serving serious pout,” Wonwoo confirmed, looking away and down at his own phone.
Mingyu’s eyes were wide as he gave me an “I told you so” look and clicked happily at his screen. I rolled my eyes. These boys were impossible.
“Food!” a staff shouted, coming into the room with a few plastic bags.
I continued back onto my Tumblr feed, blogging at my leisure as I shot a casual side eye toward MIngyu. We all joked that he was a pretty boy, but even now, with his mouth stuffed with mozzarella sticks, he was gorgeous. Matter of fact, I enjoyed Mingyu when he was eating best, because he wasn’t worried about his appearance. He was being his always hungry self, simply concerned with one thing: his happiness. Happy Mingyu was a handsome Mingyu.
I couldn’t help but let my eyes trace down his profile. Along his brow line, down his straight nose, across his plump lips, and halting at his strong chin. I jumped as my phone vibrated, launching me away from my MIngyu driven thought process and back to my phone screen.
“did he tell you yet?” the screen flashed, a new text from Wonwoo appearing.
“Tell me what?” I responded quickly, tilting my head. My thoughts immediately leapt to the worst imaginable. They were going on tour again.
MIngyu always waited until the very last moment before telling me Seventeen would be going to perform. Whenever the boys left, it meant I was virtually alone, left to wander the streets of Seoul by myself for weeks. They were my best friends and closest confidants. Without them, I felt invisible.
“damnit” Wonwoo replied simply.
I rolled my eyes and glared at the boy beside me.
“What,” I mouthed, shooting a cursory glance towards Mingyu who was still completely enthralled with the food delivered to him.
Wonwoo pursed his lips as he shook his head, looking back down to his phone.
“don’t worry about it. i’m handling it.”
I couldn’t help but sigh as I looked to MIngyu who had just lifted his phone up with greasy fingers. His face fell, nearly dropping the churro dangling from his lips as he typed speedily. Wonwoo’s phone rang with a ding, signaling they were indeed talking with one another.
“You guys suck,” I muttered, crossing my legs.
“This doesn’t concern you!” Mingyu chirped, his eyes not leaving his screen as he shoved what appeared to be an eggroll between his lips.
“Actually it does,” Wonwoo spat, typing equally as quickly as Mingyu had.
I chewed on the edge of my cheek, trying to ignore the weirdness radiating around me.
“So. I should probably say something to you.” A text from Mingyu read. My heart felt like it had frozen as I looked at the words painted in grey on my iphone screen. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I exhaled, my chest starting to hurt.
“wonwoo says i’m not doing this right, and if i don’t he’ll handle it himself.” another text read.
“mingyu…” i began to type, only to backspace again. “it’s okay if you guys are going out of town again. i’ll be okay on my own. last time i only ate one tub of ice cream, remember?”
“which is kind of disappointing. i can eat a tub on my own during a movie y/n, but that’s not what this is about. we aren’t leaving.”
My eyebrows rose as I looked to my screen. I looked over to MIngyu who was chewing slowly now, refusing to make eye contact. If Wonwoo was making him tell my something, it couldn’t be good. I looked to the boy opposite of Mingyu, seeing Wonwoo smiling slightly. He was openly watching us squirm.
“should we go to a different room to talk?” I texted. “would it be easier to discuss verbally?”
“text is mortifying enough, thanks,” Mingyu responded, a small smirk finding his face.
“the anticipation is quite literally killing me.”
“there’s been something i’ve been meaning to tell you for some time.”
I groaned, trying to keep myself from launching into a fit. “and?”
“and maybe…maybe it’s time i told you…
that i care about you.
like more than a friend.
i might even love you. i’m not really sure. i’ve never been in love with a person before.”
My breath hitched as I read and reread the words. I felt numb from shock, but my heart quickly began to remedy that as it fluttered. Mingyu was confessing.
“i just know that the only thing i’ve ever loved is music…and this is the closest i’ve ever felt to when I hear a rhythm i’ve created,” a secondary text continued. “it’s okay if this weirds you out. and you don’t feel the same…”
I smiled, turning to Mingyu. “Of course I feel the same,” I whispered.
“Oh thank God,” Wonwoo groaned, launching up from the bench we were all sitting on. He looked to us, pointing at us both individually. “You’re welcome.”
“I give you zero credit,” Mingyu grumbled, shaking his head at the older member. “Zero.”
“Which is also the number of girlfriends you had five minutes ago because you were too scared to confess,” Wonwoo chuckled. “Your welcome.”
If you don't mind would you please be able to give an analysis of Woo's breakdown in the chapter 13? Or if there is one that already exists would you happen to know where I could find it? Thank You so much in advance and sorry for the trouble!
Wow prepare for a big ramble that probably makes no sense and is all conjecture. For me, it became insightful after my third reading, lol.
The first thing you notice is that hoo boy Sangwoo does not like to be disobeyed or to be made the fool. That sounds obvious, but give me a second. You really see it in this chapter - just how fucking entitled he is, how shook he is by the idea of Bum leaving. He’s not even worried about the repercussions of his escape, legally etc - he just feels so damn personally betrayed by the idea of his disobeying him (’after everything I said? he ignored me??’). He’s even more disgustingly possessive than we thought.
I think that in general the breakdown - at least for me - reinforced the idea that once he began to progressively see his mum in Bum, he never really intended to kill him. The only thing that would change that was if Bum proved to be unbreakable and kept rebelling. So, as opposed to what i originally thought, I don’t think he was fucking with Bum with the intention of one day disposing of him, rather, he began to set him up for the long run. He wanted to keep him. But then its Bum’s first ‘betrayal’ that changes that. We see it in chapter seven - he intends to kill Bum for disrespecting him with his attempted escape (he’s thinking ‘it’s worthless, Bum will never submit’). So he’s strangling him, intending to kill, but then Bum drops the honorific:
When he’s dangling from the ceiling by his neck, though, he reverts back to “Sangwoo-ya,” without an honorific…In turn, that really explains Sangwoo’s expression there. In this situation, when Bum is literally choking to death, not in any situation to even think of manipulating him, he’s referring to Sangwoo familiarly? He’s calling Sangwoo fondly? Sangwoo’s surprise is completely understandable. (x)
Sangwoo is literally like ‘what the fuck’, even now, even as i’m doing this, you can still speak to me like that? Bum might have disobeyed him, but once again Sangwoo saw his potential, and the open opportunity for reform. Or should I say, the opportunity to mold. Bum still had potential to be obedient and submissive, and as long as there is room for Sangwoo to bang Bum into shape, he will punish, but let him live. All in order to preserve his wider goal of turning him into his perfect and submissive…*drum roll* : pseudo-momwife lol. You guessed it. And then the power rush he gets from the name-calling is so strong that he pops a boner and cums all over his feet?? Sangwoo is aroused by his power over people, and the sense of unconditional devotion to him. Ego. He likes feeling needed, and being submitted to. In fact he demands it. I had brought this up with a friend a while back, and now i can be pretty sure - he comes from his name because of his own ego being stroked (ill return to this).
Back to chapter 13, he thinks Bum really has escaped and he’s all you’ve done it now you little fucker, you’ve really pissed me off , you’re gonna get it. He doesn’t care that Bum has momwife potential because his injured ego outweighs his desire to recreate a newer and better (more on this later) version of his mother (I’ll kill him. I have to kill him now!!). Even more interesting is that directly after he says he has to kill Bum, he recalls his mum. This makes him angry and he punches the pole. I’ve been thinking about why he does that, and i’ve kind of done a 180 in my views since a week ago. I don’t think he remembered his mum because of guilt, or because the idea of killing Bum makes him feel guilty. I think he remembered her because his feeling of betrayal echoes something he felt in the past - with her. That is to say, I believe his mum might have ‘betrayed’ Sangwoo in a way that echoes Bum’s alleged escape. Whatever she did, he probably killed her for it.
Keep in mind that he doesn’t exactly head home with a change of heart after he remembers her. So needless to say, i’m flirting with the ‘Sangwoo killed his mum’ camp again. The guy is clearly obsessed with Bum - he honest to God looked deranged, losing his shit and then collapsing to the floor. It was relief, not in a ‘i’m not going to get caught yet’ way, but in a ‘this thing i value so much has returned to me’ kind of way. If he’s obsessed with this cheap, shallow recreation of her, just how obsessed was he with the real thing? The fact that he is projecting his mum onto everything around him shows how deep this obsession ran. It’s telling that even after all these years he is trying to recreate her, bring her back to life in the form of another person. A person who is easier to control.
I’m thinking maybe he killed his mum because he couldn’t handle her disagreeing with him, or because he felt that she had stepped out of bounds as pertaining to his ‘rights’ over her. It would have been intolerable to him. We know the parents died together, that is to say, within a similar time frame. Maybe she expressed outrage at his killing his dad, and whatever form this outrage of hers took, he received it as an irredeemable insult. She rebelled in some way, and he ‘had’ to kill her for it. Dude’s cray enough to do it. The narrative has cleverly left it vague so that we’re unsure - but I don’t think his feelings for his mother were purely innocent attachment augmented by fatherly abuse. He was probably outside of the scope of normal in how he felt, and what he expected of her. Super possessive.
He wants Bum to have all the characteristics his mother did, without the undesirables. Sangwoo is breaking him bit by bit so that he can sift out his will to resist. He wants his mommy - but he wants her his way. Why does he crack a boner in 13? I think it was the combined imagery/memories of Bum’s submission (wanting Sangwoo sexually despite the mistreatment, calling out for him and needing him even when the pain is being inflicted by Sangwoo) along with some memory of his mother doing something similar. Maybe she called out to him in a similar way when he killed her…like i said, it’s all speculation. It doesn’t necessarily imply he was sexually attracted to his mother…he just gets off on power.
So the most dangerous thing about this guy? Yeah, I’m thinking that it’s his ego. And you know what - I think Koogi hinted this in the very beginning. Remember when he killed the girl, he said:
He victimizes himself and cannot handle an injured ego, he cannot handle people not submitting to him or thinking theyre ‘better than him’. And i think chapter 13 and his breakdown lends itself to this idea. I don’t think he wants bum to be his man-killing murder sidekick - he just wants his perfect mommy back to play into his hands as is convenient for him. My ideas are continually changing, and im always open to new interpretations. Chapter 14 might invalidate this completely lmao but that’s where i’m at right now! I hope this was helpful.
The curtains rustled
softly as the cool breeze came through the open window. It hit your skin,
making your boiling blood seem to stop and freeze turning it into a sludge in
you, stopping time. There was no feeling, no warmth that you wanted to feel
from this life anymore. You glanced up at the ticking clock on the mantel,
seeming to tick ever faster with each passing second. The ticking sound
resounded in your ears, helping you cope with the emotions running through you.
The puddles of tears and
blood were still on the tiled floor of your kitchen, the remnants of your fight
with the one man you assumed you could trust and love.
I would like to just thank myself for being a Jungkook loving pile of poop and actually writing some much needed bro time with OC and him because those fetuses deserve to bond more, y’know…being the youngest…and everything. If the stuff about the moon is wrong, someone please tell m I’d love to not spread false information because that’s actually supposed to be like actually real lmao. I didn’t make it up I READ IT ON GOOGLE.
Check out the side series of all the other reapers!!
Yoongi hoisted your body over his shoulder, wrapping you like a burrito in your blanket so you wouldn’t be able to break free. Still, you thrashed in his grip, but he merely grunted every time you hit his head with an elbow you desperately attempted to use to get out of his grip.
He got you to Hoseok’s abandoned-club-made-grim-reaper-morgue and you grew quiet as he went through the halls. Everything was silent, and you were filled with a dread thinking of all the reasons to why it was quiet. Still, you didn’t question it as Yoongi merely broke open the thin sliding door to Hoseok’s suite.
“God, finally. You left for her place like an hour ago, why did you take so long? Can you break Jimin’s neck or something? He won’t shut up.” Hoseok’s voice flooded from the side of the room where Jungkook lay on the floor, neck heavily bleeding despite Hoseok wiping it away every few seconds. The knife lay by the door you stood at, covered to the hilt in blood. Yoongi was right, Namjoon had stabbed him. Jimin, in the other corner, lay writing in pain as he snapped his bones back into place and cried out every time.
“Fuck! If I could kill Namjoon I seriously would!”
“Yeah, yeah. Get in line, kid. I’m first.” Yoongi rolled his eyes, going over to Jimin and stabbing his shoe right into one of his ribs. Jimin let out a blood curdling scream, grabbing hold of Yoongi’s foot and shoving him away in a violent manner.
“I’ll kill you too, Yoongi!”
“Sure, and when you’re able to, call me. I’ll gladly let you.” He grinned down at Jimin, before snapping his neck and dropping the dangling body onto the floor.
“Thank Christ.” Hoseok amended, standing up from where Jungkook’s limp body lay, not noticing you standing at the door.
“(Y/N), could you take care of Jungkook? Go grab some clothes from the closet, the big boys need to have a talk. Jimin won’t wake up for awhile, so just…cover his body with a blanket or something if it really bothers you. Be right back.” He took hold of Hoseok’s shoulder dauntingly, not allowing the other boy to talk as he practically dragged Hoseok from the room. You sighed bleakly once the door slid shut, glancing over at Jimin’s body before throwing your blanket over him just as Yoongi had suggested. You turned to the wardrobe, it being unnervingly close to Jungkook’s body and pooling amounts of blood. Clambering over toward it, you wrenched open the door, careful not to hit Jungkook’s dead body. You merely threw on a black t-shirt, ignoring the fact you were wearing pink pajama shorts with hearts all over them.
You sighed, turning to stare at Jungkook’s body before deciding he deserved better than a cold floor to wake up on. You knew he would heal, but seeing the stab wounds still freshly cut into his skin upset you. He was at least 70 years older than you, and still, he looked like just a child. His expression was peaceful, but you knew when he woke up he’d be in pain.
You dragged him over to the bed, ignoring the blood smell on his clothes as you picked him up halfheartedly and hoisted him onto the bed. Blood had seeped onto the bed sheets and pillow cases immediately, and you noted you’d have to apologize to Hoseok later for ruining his bed.
Still, as you looked into his cuts, you could see skin folding over more as it began to mend his wounds. You picked up the bucket of red water and placed it on the bed side table, sitting on the mattress beside Jungkook’s body as you wiped his blood away. You held the damp cloth onto his neck, and almost screamed when his body twitched and hand caught yours.
“Not…so…hard…” He groaned, rolling over onto his side. You yanked him onto his back once more, scowling at him.
“Don’t lay like that, it’ll bleed more.” You scolded, pressing the cloth into his skin. Jungkook hissed in pain, wincing every time you held it there. “The bleeding will never stop if you don’t apply pressure to it.”
“It’ll stop some time, I can’t die forever. Cut it out now, please.” He gently pushed your hand away, opening his eyes and looking away from you. Jungkook had deep circles etched into the skin under his eyes, something you’d never seen with a reaper before.
“Just let me help you, I can’t do anything else…”
He frowned, shaking his head. “If this is about Taehyung, don’t… Don’t say anything about him anymore. I made Hoseok forget.”
Your eyes grew wide, and you accidentally pressed too hard against him and he groaned. “Sorry, I’m sorry. But, Jungkook, that’s so wrong. You can’t just make people forget their grief.”
“I didn’t mean too. I can’t help it. I’m a screwed up grim reaper.” He was shivering under you, so you wrapped a blanket around the lower half of his body.
“You’re not screwed up, Jungkook.” You promised, looking through the bedside drawers for a new cloth. Once you’d found one, you picked up the red tinged water and got up from the bed to go over to the sink on the other side of the room. You emptied the bucket, rinsing it once before filling it back up with warm water.
Jungkook said something, but you didn’t hear him over the running water, so you neared him again. “What did you say? I didn’t hear you, sorry.”
“Don’t act like you know me.”
“I do know you, though, Jungkook?” You wet the clean cloth, squeezing it free of excess water before folding it and placing it on his forehead. You brushed away hair on his face, sitting back down on the side of the bed.
“You don’t…You can’t.”
You shrugged, patting his chest slightly as you picked up the covers and placed them over farther his shivering limbs. The bleeding had slowed to a mere trickle of blood, and you were glad. You wondered if there would be a scar on his neck, but thought differently when you noticed no other scars anywhere else.
“Jungkook, listen. I want to help you make Hoseok remember. I mean, he must know something is wrong, right? He’ll barely even look at me. He went from a happy go lucky maniac to a quiet, self preserved brat. You don’t just swap emotion’s when you don’t think there’s something wrong.”
He sat up, pushing your hand away once more. The cloth on his forehead uselessly flopped onto the covers. “Honestly…I already said that’s enough! I don’t want your help and I don’t want him to remember, even if I was able too. I’m tired of him bitching, constantly.”
“What if one day you accidentally make him remember, huh?” You began, dropping your hand to your side and backing up when Jungkook slung his feet off of the bed. He cracked his neck, sighing in content once a loud snap noise filled the air. “One day you let your emotions run a little wild and boom, Hoseok remembers Taehyung is dead and he’ll hate you for the rest of eternity because you didn’t even try to make him remember.”
His expression changed slightly, a frown forming on his pale face before he smoothed it out once more. “Like I care.”
“You do care.” You shook your head, snatching up the clean cloth and holding out your hand for him. Jungkook looked up at you for a moment, before realizing your eyes had met and he hung his head low once more. “Jungkook, look at me.”
“I-I…no. Something bad will happen to you.”
“Nothing bad will happen, I promise.” You chucked the cloth aside, not really knowing where it landed as you pressed your semi-damn hands against Jungkook’s face. For a moment he shied away, until you pressed closer to him and picked his head up. Jungkook took a deep breath, swiftly closing his eyes and opening them.
“See?” A smile touched at your lips as he met your eyes with his own anxious gaze, only that anxiety soon grew into a piece of confidence. Small, but growing confidence that Jungkook desperately needed. His uneven breathing grew steady, and he let out a strong exhale before standing up.
“You’re going to be just fine, Jungkook.” You pushed on, your hands continuing to cup his cheeks. He caught your wrists, holding you there longer to stare into his eyes.
“I…you…I’m not hurting you? Do you remember everything properly?” His breathing was strong, heavy, voice an octave higher than before as he asked you those things. You shook your head, stepping closer to him.
“I’m great. So are you. Right? Jungkook, you can control yourself, without anyone’s help.”
He nodded firmly, moisture filling his eyes. “I can control myself, without anyone’s help…”
“Are you guys having eye sex?” A voice in the corner groaned, and the both of you broke apart, glancing over to see a body rising under your blanket like Dracula. He pulled the blanket off of his head, tearing it in half out of anger.
“Hey, that was my blanket!”
Jimin snorted, rolling out his shoulders and massaging them with a pained expression. “So sorry for your loss. Where’s Yoongi? I’m going to kill him.”
“Right here. Did you dream about me?” Yoongi twinkled his fingers from the door, and you noticed you hadn’t even realized him standing there. How long had he been standing there?
Hoseok wasn’t far behind him, but he wasn’t paying attention to Yoongi or Jimin, but you and Jungkook.
“Jungkook, are you okay?” Hoseok wondered, hurrying over and brushing you aside like an insect. You looked at Jungkook, narrowing your eyebrows at him. He met your eyes for a moment, nodding.
“I need to tell you something, Hoseok.” Jungkook dropped his eyes, looking ashamed of himself. Hoseok placed a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it in a comforting manner.
“Sit down, I’ll make tea. Do you want tea? That’s it, don’t strain yourself.” He placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, easing him into a sit. Jungkook took his hand before Hoseok could walk away, forcing him to sit beside him.
“No, I don’t want tea. I want to tell you something.”
Hoseok looked over at you for a moment, eyebrows raised until meeting your gaze. He frowned, wrinkles deeply etched into his laugh lines. Hoseok turned back to Jungkook, almost pouting like a child. You decided not to fret, and went over to Yoongi and Jimin, who seemed to be caught up in a word spat.
“Listen here, Yoongi. I’m sick and fucking tired of you assholes thinking you can break my neck all the time! How many times do I have to tell you I’m on your side, not Seokjin’s?”
Yoongi laughed, crossing his arms and watching Jimin hop to his feet with lazy eyes. “First of all, just because you think you’re scary with your little suicide gloves doesn’t mean you’re shit to me. If you maybe…I don’t know…Learned how to fight back I’d probably stop snapping your neck. Second of all, I apologize for practicing a little caution rather than falling into your little trap of he said she said.”
“All right, honestly…” You stepped between them, holding your arms out. “Can you guys pipe down? Hoseok and Jungkook are having a serious discussion right now.”
“Just because you got him to look you in the eyes doesn’t mean he’s going to make Hoseok rememb-”
“Shut up!” You hissed to Jimin, shoving him back. You didn’t expect him to go so far as to fall back against the table and roll onto the floor with a grunt. Yoongi broke into laughter, slapping a knee as he watched Jimin tumble over.
“Even a human girl can kick your ass!” He hollered, pressing a hand to his forehead and almost falling onto the floor himself in hysterics. You caught his shoulders, pressing a hand over his mouth to hush him.
“I’m serious Y-”
“Dead?” Hoseok’s voice hung in the air, terror in his voice as you and Yoongi looked over at the two on the bed. Jungkook had a few tears running down his eyes, trying to get Hoseok to sit down.
“I didn’t mean to make you forget…I’m so sorry…” Jungkook whispered, closing his eyes as a new rush of tears fell.
“I know…I know! It’s not your fault, Jungkook. I really just…” He trailed off, wiping a hand across his face to dry the tears on his own cheeks. “How did you make me remember? You’ve never been able to control yourself.”
“(Y/N) helped, I suppose.” Jungkook looked over at you, cracking into a smile that you’d barely seen a handful of times. You smiled back weakly, looking away to see Yoongi staring at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. It stood between half confused half admiration, but you were sure your eyes were telling you something wrong.
The second he noticed you looking at him curiously, he broke your gaze and cleared his throat in an obnoxious way. Typical.
“Oh wow, how incredible. (Y/N) continues to save the day with her compassion. Truly heroic. Can we cut the bull crap, now? Namjoon’s out there, attempting to murder grim reapers and we’re in here all sharing how we feel instead of trying to stop him.” Jimin cut in icily, clapping his hands twice and causing you to flinch.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, buttercup.” Yoongi jeered, backing away from you and leaning against a bookshelf. “That’s what Hoseok and I were just talking about, while you laid there dead and did nothing.”
“That’s because you killed me!” He snapped, holding up a fist that you slapped down to his side for safe measures.
“What do you want me to do, apologize? Not really my type of thing. Moving on, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by that useless piece of shit, Namjoon and Seokjin are working together to get rid of us. Well, that’s what we’ve deducted, anyway. Hoseok, do you mind delving in on the subject?”
“Right,” Hoseok nodded, walking to the middle of the room. Jungkook followed, standing behind him and watching the other 4 of you as Hoseok explained. “Namjoon wants to kill us.”
“Precisely! Now, Jimin, don’t give me that look. I know you’re thinking ‘he can’t kill us we’re already dead!’ or some stupid shit. No, not what we were thinking at all. I mean, sure he can kill us for a short while but not forever. That’s Seokjin’s job.”
“Yoongi, we don’t want to hear a novel length explanation, just say it already.” Hoseok groaned, and Yoongi held up his hands in defeat.
“Alright, alright. The more Namjoon kills us, the less time we have to harvest a sufficient amount of souls before then. If we don’t have enough souls, bye bye side bitch grim reapers and hello strong Namjoon with his original psycho strength back again.”
“What do you mean ‘then’?” You frowned, feeling as if you’re the only one left out of the true meaning.
“Once every blue moon.”
“Blue moon? Isn’t that just an expression for a long time?” You scowled in Yoongi’s direction, irritated at the chuckle trickling from his throat. He shook his head, placing both hands on your shoulders and steering you around. He brought you over toward the window, brushing aside the curtain.
“Not exactly, (Y/N).”
He was impeccably close to you, chest pressed to your back as Yoongi tipped your chin to stare up into the black sky. The quarter moon was barely out anymore, but you could still see the shine of it from where you stood.
“A blue moon is a rare occurrence, but that’s not the kind we’re talking about. Once every few years there’s a blue moon, which is the second in a month. What I’m saying is, normally there’s only 1 full moon a month. The blue moon is the second. There’s usually only 3 full moons a season, but I hear the 4th is right around the corner.”
“It’ll happen in the spring, or so I hear.” Hoseok spoke up, and Yoongi made a noise in acknowledgement.
“Astronomy 101, kids. Science is truly amazing. Saves me from busting my ass trying to figure out when I may be able to die.” Yoongi moved away from you, his boots making a loud thump noise on the wood as he ghosted back to the middle of the room. You whirled around, staring after him with a disbelieving expression.
“Namjoon never told me about this. He just said that if he stopped collecting souls he’ll be able to die.” You mumbled, getting lost in thought.
“Wait…” Gasping in realization, you began striding towards the boys. “Namjoon hasn’t been collecting souls for at least 7 years! Definitely not enough, at least. A blue moon happens like every 3 years.”
“Wow, nice math there.” Jimin snorted, propping himself on the table. Yoongi mimicked him, placing a hand on his hip.
“You believe him? He’s a liar, (Y/N), I thought we established this. Namjoon would’ve been gone long ago if he was malnourished on souls. Can’t really just…run away from a moon and also a super natural death machine.”
“Well, what if he can?” Jungkook spoke up, looking at you with knit together eyebrows. “I mean, Namjoon was the first reaper to ever be created, so what if he’s like a special case. Like, he can never die from the blue moon?”
“That sounds so stupid!” Yoongi sputtered, glowering toward Jungkook. You reached for Yoongi, completely taken aback by how he was acting. He stepped away from you, holding up both hands to evade your grip. Yoongi quickly turned, striding toward the door. He noisily let it bang shut behind him. For a moment you stared at the shaking slider door, but nonetheless followed him out.
“Yoongi, stop!” You called, feet pattering against the creaking wood in contrast to his loud boot lugging.
"Go back inside, (Y/N), there’s a psycho on the loose killing everyone and you’re the only one that can stay dead when he kills you.”
"Why are you acting like this? What Jungkook said makes sense, you’re being immature.” You shot back, flinching when he stopped moving very suddenly. You watched as Yoongi’s fingers curled into a loose fist at his sides.
He tipped his head back, laughing in a fake manner before turning to look at you. “Immature, huh? You have my deepest apologies. Now, would you go back inside?”
"I feel safer around you.” You admitted, feeling your feet glide and pausing right in front of him. He scratched the back of his neck, giving an exasperated sigh between pursed lips.
"Did you not just hear me say psycho killer? Why aren’t you even a little upset like you were out there?”
It was your turn to sigh, and you hung your head between your shoulders. “I am upset, just a little more guilty than sad Namjoon is with Seokjin.”
"You’re thinking about us having sex, aren’t you?” he grumbled.
"You know I am, its just-”
"Just nothing, (Y/N)! Namjoon won’t find out unless one of us blabs to him, and neither of us are planning on conversing with him, right? You two are finished, now, anyway. What does sex matter when us dying is mixed into this?”
"Sex?” A voice from behind you spoke up, and you whirled around to Jungkook. “Yoongi, you know that isn’t safe.”
"Isn’t safe? Why not?” You frowned, looking back at Yoongi for leverage. He looked annoyed, a hint of a smile at his lips.
"He’s just religious. You know, sex before marriage is a ‘sin’ and all.”
"That’s not it.” Jungkook said, clearly irritated with Yoongi’s sarcasm. “Grim reapers feed on not just souls but emotions. If they act up, the reapers will be in trouble. Strong emotions like love and hate could break us and human’s around us.”
"Yeah, well, love is the strongest emotion. I’m not really an emotions type of guy.” He snickered, clearly pleased with himself. Your cheeks had tinted a dark shade of red, but Yoongi waved you away. The sound of the door sliding shut signaled Jungkook’s exit, and Yoongi had begun to follow.
“I won’t touch you again, unless you want me too.” He spoke quietly, but you still heard clearly. You caught his wrist, halting his movements.
"Can you take me home? If you’re really scared about Namjoon, just stay with me. Please?”
Yoongi pondered your words for a moment, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, finally nodding on agreement though still looking wary. “Fine, go put some clothes on before i carry you home.”
You did. You dressed in a pair of black pants and some socks, allowing Yoongi to carry you home in the cold. On the way back, you grew tired, but you noticed the sun had gun to climb above the horizon. Great.
"Don’t go to sleep, alright?” Yoongi shut the door behind him, clicking the lock although you both knew it’d never keep Namjoon out. “Namjoon is probably trying to get you to sleep so he can talk to you. How about you make some tea to stay awake?”
You nodded, noticing just how tired he looked. Although you knew Yoongi didn’t need sleep, you still couldn’t help but think he deserved it. “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll make a tea and meet you in my room.”
He nodded briskly, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I think I’ll do that. Just… hurry.”
You agreed silently, watching Yoongi walk toward your room and slip behind the dark door. You made your way to the kitchen, turning the kettle on and waiting for water to boil over until you could properly allow the teabag to steep. As you made your tea, a noise from your bedroom made you jump in surprise.
"Yoongi? Are you alright?” You called, but there was no verbal response. Only more banging.
"Yoongi?” You called once more peeking your head around from the wall and glancing down your pitch black hallway. Strange, you could’ve sworn a light was flicked on when you entered the door… A strangled cry you recognized was from Yoongi had you running down the hall. You slammed the door open, turning on the lights with no hesitation only to scream out of horror at the sight before you. Yoongi lay, bleeding from his wrists and neck on your bed, a barbed wire tied around his throat. He still struggled weakly, twitching and gasping while choking on his own blood.
"No, no, no! Yoongi, oh my God.” You whimpered, stumbling to your bed. His eyes met yours with alarm, and he attempted to say something but you only made out gurgling. Yoongi’s fingers bled as he wrapped them around the barbed wire, veins bulging from his wrist up to his forearm in weak attempts to rip away the restraints that captured each breath he took.
"You’re fine,” you whispered, pulling his bloodied hands away and attempting to untie the restraints around his neck. Blood smeared against your skin, and you noticed you shook. Yoongi twitched harder, choking blood right onto your hands. You couldn’t help the hysterical sobs coming from your throat as you watched Yoongi convulse black an red blood onto you. The sight was making you nauseous but you still didn’t stop working with the wire until it was off. You placed blood covered hands onto his wrists, trying to top the blood flow but failing as it leaked from between your fingers.
"How do I help you?” You cried. Yoongi gasped for air, but nothing worked for him. He choked at least twice more, tears forming in his eyes and tumbling onto your pillow. Helplessly, he reached for you but barely got his hand halfway to yours only to watch it drop as he died before you.
”(Y/N), we need to talk.” A voice behind you caught your attention, causing you to whip your head around. Tufts of pink hair blinded you under the cheap florescent lights in your home.