#completely made up science for a completely made up substance
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
justwannabecat · 3 days ago
Text
Haha… about that… Well.
“How do you know?”
“Phantom told us-“
“That ecto-scum?!?! You can’t believe a word it says. Obviously it’s just lying in an effort to make us stop- we must be going in the right direction then!”
Also, a bit more explanation on what I was thinking when I came up with this:
-Ectoplasm is similar to radiation. Over time, large amounts of exposure can add up. Too much (liquid form) will kill any normal person. However, small amounts will only burn (like if a regular human was shot with a weak ecto-blast.) Exposure never really goes away. If you’re shot with a blast, you will become just the slightest bit more liminal as a result. If your parents are liminal, you are at least a little bit liminal.
-Unlike radiation, ectoplasm is everywhere. This is thanks to a billion natural portals opening and closing, 99.99999% of which last for not even a fraction of a second+are too small for anything much more than a grain of sand. This is completely normal and common.
-Because of the background ectoplasm in the universe, most living organisms (that aren’t microscopic) have at least a little bit of liminality. Most of the time, this extends to the ability to learn. When an animal reproduces, its offspring already have the instincts necessary to survive in the world (mostly). That is thanks to a tiny little drip-down of ectoplasm from the parent. The ectoplasm has the knowledge, and passes it to the offspring.
TLDR: Sentience is a byproduct of mutualism between ectoplasm and other species. If you remove 100% of ectoplasm from a species and prevent them from absorbing any more somehow, they would stagnate, not evolving further. Maybe they would devolve, maybe not. But they certainly wouldn’t get any further.
“Yeah, see, the Anti-Ecto Acts are even more troubling than ‘inciting war with the Realm of the Dead and all its gods’ level.” Phantom began. “It affects the living, even outside of that.”
Constantine huffed, but didn’t disagree. Bruce could only guess what he was thinking.
“At least, from what Clockwork taught me,” Phantom continued, and that made Constantine snap to attention, “ectoplasm is just kind of… There. Floating around in the background, but at such a low level that it doesn’t usually manifest. But it’s still there, and it functions kind of like radiation: just being around it might cause you to develop liminality.”
“Liminality?” Bruce asked. Phantom shrugged.
“Any side effects you would notice are only caused by high levels of exposure, nothing like this low-level radiation. But, well… Ectoplasm is both attracted to emotions and attracted by emotions. And ectoplasm heightens emotions, too. The fact that the human race has been alive so long, evolved to feel more complex emotions, it’s because the ectoplasm bonded enough with humanity to allow that. Humans achieved sentience because they could feel enough to determine they existed. Without ectoplasm, slowly those emotions will fade. And…” Phantom hesitated.
“…I can’t say that humanity will become nonsentient once again, not for sure. But I can say that you will slowly, generation by generation, lose the feelings you have now.”
3K notes · View notes
Text
DPXDC prompt: Valentine's day spirit. Superbat edition.
When Phantom sets foot on the Justice League base many years later, he expects anything but not Flash pointing finger at him and screaming about "legendary child who made Superbat canon".
~~~~
Being in Metropolis because of a ghost hunt right in the middle of a battle between Lex Luthor and Superman was not the best outcome, especially considering that Jack had his three-year-old son with him. But without such a combination of circumstances, they would never have found out that "Ghost!" "Daddy, no!" Ectoblast that Jack shot at the target of their hunt touches Superman and..really hurts him.
There were two sides to Danny-the ghostbuster's son and the astronerd. It is clear which half of him did not have a chance to win.
Danny threw his space rocket toy aside and grabbed father's arm. In the next second, boy had already sunk his teeth into Jack's fingers, forcing him to drop weapon. Youngling quickly jumped off and picked up ectoblast and then ran towards Superman. "Fly away! I'll hold him!" Danny stood up to try to cover up ghost (or alien?) in case Dad took not one but a whole bunch of shooting things with him again.
Jack: Get away from my son, ghost. Superman: Sir, I'm sure this is some kind of misunderstanding, I'm not a ghost. Jack: Danny, come to me, he's trying to hide his identity and manipulate us. Danny: No. If the heroes are being attacked, then someone must protect them too. Jack: But he's a ghost.. Danny: Alien or ghost is not so important, Daddy. He's in pain, and he's protecting this city, not haunting it. It's wrong to try to catch him for experiments. I forbid you to do that. Jack: Danny, champ, you're wrong.
Lex: Hah, what an interesting substance. Despite the other aggregate state, or rather its absence, it is so similar to kryptonite. Superman: Lex, is this a portable lab? Now is not the time, in case you haven't noticed. Lex: There is always time for science. I think my colleague will agree, right? "Similar to kryptonite?" Jack muttered to himself.
Jack: So Superman wasn't my target. And we are not colleagues. There is only one insanely rich man with questionable moral values with whom I am ready to do work, and your surname is clearly not Masters. Lex: It's a pity, but still, if you want to carry out the delivery of your wonderful weapons or exchange experiences, then call this number. Luther quickly shoves a business card into Fenton's hand. Jack*throws it away*: Come on, son, let's go back to the hotel, you've skinned your knees.
~~~The Evening. The Roof of the mentioned hotel~~~
"My friend Sam is also very frightening. And she also likes dark.“ The boy paused for a minute of thinking. ���You want to kiss your goth friend?" "W-What makes you think that, kid. We’re colleagues, I respect him very much and.." "So you want to. It’s okay, I’d like to kiss Sam too but I’m afraid she’s gonna hit me. You have the same problem?" "It’s a little more complicated for adults." Kal begins to explain but stumbles upon Danny’s completely unimpressed look. Yeah, this boy apparently has heard 'kids would understand when they grow up' lectures at least thousand times. "But you’re basically right."
~~~~
When Batman himself comes to their hotel the next day as a representative of the Justice League to make sure that Mr. Fenton has no desire to harm Superman in the future and to tell that Superman is not going to press charges because of the ectoblast that injured him, Danny refuses to leave the room.
Jack: Oh, Danny, I thought you dropped your space rocket yesterday, it's a good that Alicia's Christmas present isn't lost. Danny: Well, dad, I left it on the roof of a bad bad man, yeah, but Uncle Kal returned it last night and we talked for a while. Jack: About what? Space, my little star? *Father immediately assumes that Danny would like to ask about everything real alien*. Boy*blushes and shakes his head negatively*: No, not about it.
Jack: Then what it was about? Danny: Secret superhero things. I can't tell you. I agreed to withhold that information as part of a pinky swear. Batman: And what about me, young man? You can tell me, right? Batman couldn't resist talking with such a cute kid. The boy thinks only for a second before hurriedly trying to push his father out of the room. Danny: Dad, come out for a minute and don't eavesdrop. I'll tell you when you can come in. The big man laughingly obeys. Lil child checks the reliability of the closed door and runs up to Batman. Danny: And so, Mr. Batman, first promise not to laugh or hit Uncle Kal. Batman: I promise? Danny: Good. This is very important information. Batman: I'm listening.
Danny: He thinks you're terrifying and wants to kiss you. And since he is afraid that you will hit him for this, I recommended him to appease you with a pie cooked according to his mother's recipe. Well, you know, since you love sweets and his parents' farm has the most wonderful apples in all states. He rarely cooks himself, but he will try for you, so even if he doesn't succeed, pretend that you liked it, please. Batman:...
Batman: Would you like to work in intelligence for the Justice League when you grow up? Danny: Actually, I want to be an astronaut. Batman: Our base is located in space. Danny:
Danny: Hmm, then I'll think about your offer.
Batman: Great. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Fenton. You can count on a job recommendation from me. Do you want anything as compensation for your consultation? Danny: Actually, yes. Mr. Batman, tell me honestly, are you a bat on a frugivorous diet like Giant golden-crowned flying fox or you are a Vampire Bat? Sam says that such a big bat can only be a vegetarian and uncle Kal said your son was more than happy to steal strawberries from his garden with Superboy but..
~~~
Batman tries to behave naturally for a week. However, the sweet tooth inside him still makes him clamp Superman in the corner and question him. "Where the hell are the pies you promised to cook for me, Clark?"
2K notes · View notes
bluesidez · 4 months ago
Note
Can I request a Miguel O'Hara x Curvy reader where they both get intoxicated from sex pollen ??
Tumblr media
[Sticky-Icky]
lab taster: @waterinthefire 🩻
pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Curvy!Reader
summary: He's a lot less irritating when he puts his mouth to better use.
content warning: a PWP but you guys know me (there's a little plot), this is so 18+ that it's crazy so MDNI, sex pollen (or more like Miguel is playing around and doesn't know wtf he's doing), unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾) manhandling, temperature play if you squint, standing 69, facefucking, creampies, wrong use of webs, biting, breeding, spitting, squirting, cunnilingus, fellatio, fluff if you squint...I think that's it. my god.
word count: 4.3k, halfway proofread
a/n: Listening to Sticky by Ravyn Lenae inspired part of this. Also watching several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares, Hell’s Kitchen, and Law & Order: SVU in the bg kept me sane. And one more rewatch of ATSV.
My duty as a fanfic writer is fulfilled as I give you this mandatory trope. 🫡
Tumblr media
When you first started working at Spider HQ, you were amazed by the fact that one man was able to create all of this.
It was astounding, beyond what the gray tones of Nueva York could ever present to you.
Now, you think back to your glittering eyes during the first year working here and laugh.
Working for Miguel O’Hara was like squeezing a watermelon through a straw. He was impossible.
Nothing you did was ever satisfactory for him. Something could always be fixed. Sometimes, you wonder why he still kept you employed here.
Currently, he was turning his nose up at a salve you were working on for spiders whose healing time wasn’t nearly as quick as others.
“Run a new test. This batch is no good.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“The formula could be better, it’s too thick, and why does it smell like that?”
The scent was similar to one you wore often and a lot of the spider-people that swung by the pharmacy seemed to like it.
“Uh, jade tea.”
The pinch in Miguel’s eyebrows deepened as he sniffed the air.
“Switch it to something else.”
You huffed, already tired of this conversation, “Well, what smell do you suggest?”
“Anything but this.”
“How about lavender, then? Perhaps peppermint.”
“And now, you’re being childish,” Miguel put the tin down before placing his hands on his hips. “You know there’s spider-people who can’t smell too much of that.”
“Yeah, I got it.”
He plopped a giant file on your desk, “Deal with that later. I need you to work on something else. For some reason, villains across dimensions are obtaining access to a substance similar to rapture. Every time there’s a mission, the spider-person of that dimension has been left affected. I need something to subside the effects until we can get them back here.”
“Ok, well do you have the substance with you?”
“No. But I’ll get you something soon. For now, I have a year’s worth of research on rapture. It should be of some use.”
You took the rubber band off of the manilla folder, something so old school for this era of tech.
You saw a line of formulas that started to make your head spin.
“Are there a lot of people affected right now?”
“Only a few. They’ve used the leftover solution I made a long time ago. It’s only going to work for so long,”
“Good. I need to sleep on this.”
Miguel’s head knocked back an inch, “Are you refusing work? The state of the heroes of different universes relies on this research. It’s not some science project-“
“I understand completely, Miguel, but I’m off the clock.”
He stopped and checked his watch, the red six o’clock burning back on him.
“I only work the hours you pay me, Spidey,” you reach to pat his arm and regret it when his stern face doesn’t move.
“Not interested in paid overtime?”
You bit your cheek to stop the laugh from coming out.
“That’s nice and all, but I’ve got plans.”
“Like what?”
“Like resting, sleeping, not touching lab work with a you-sized pole. All of these are things you aren’t familiar with. Plus, I have a date.”
A pause went through the room as you started to gather your things.
“Since when do you date?”
You push your chair under your desk harder than you mean to, “Since when do you care?”
“I,” he follows to the elevator, “care about my employees.”
“Sure, Miguel.”
If it weren’t for your tired state, you would think he looks a little sad at your statement.
“See you tomorrow, then?”
The doors start to close as you nod your head, Miguel’s gaze stuck just above your head.
Weird. Just like his frequent stops to your lab.
The feeling doesn’t leave your gut even as you’re smiling in your date’s face.
One minute, you’re laughing at a story about some amateur skateboarders Downtown, and the next, an electric billboard is being covered in tiny nano-spiders across the street.
“So the guy just takes one step on the board and then he’s flying. A straight line across the park.”
“That’s,” the spiders start to crawl into different lines. Then a logo forms, displaying the spider on Miguel’s suit next to an exclamation point. “So hilarious.”
Your date chuckles then follows your gaze, the silence too long, “Is there something wrong?”
The nano-spiders flipped around, the regular billboard showing like normal. You squint.
“No, I thought I saw something. Must have been my imagination.”
“You did say you were a little tired from work. Should we raincheck? We can always catch a movie another time.”
You wanted to say no, you’d been looking forward to tonight.
The billboard flickered to a little picture of Lyla with “SOS” above her head.
“Yeah, I should probably get going. Sorry about this.”
The way he doesn’t sweat you practically ditching him makes your heart pang. You’re already dreading another night exhausted and alone. Your date seemed promising.
You wave at him from your taxi, the route leading back to Spider HQ feeling like torture. You unclasp your purse and check your gizmo.
40 missed messages.
It’s not until you’re walking into the regular lobby that you turn it on.
“What is so important that you waste Margo’s time to interrupt my time?”
Lyla pops in your peripheral, hands up and wary, “I’m only doing what boss asks! Don’t get mad at me.”
“Lyla, why am I back here right now?”
“Well, Miguel has gotten himself in some particular trouble.”
You punch the elevator button, “Get to the point, please.”
“He went into your lab to try and start the solution he talked about earlier. After his first accident, he’s never had any luck with lab work, so uh. He’s kind of made a mess.”
The elevator moves and you look at Lyla, “What kind of mess?”
The doors open and you can smell it before you see it.
It’s poignant, like perfume soaked roses and patchouli. The scent hits you hard enough to make you grip the metal opening as you come out.
“What exactly did he do?” you breathe out.
Your limbs start to shake, nerves drumming from the inside out. A weight feels like it landed on your core, your stomach twitching as you continued to take in whatever had transpired.
“Something about DNA splicing and plants. I can trace his movements back if you’d like, but I’m also currently trying to figure out how to reverse it.”
“Great.”
You swing open the door to a disheveled Miguel. He’s sweating profusely as he tries to clean up your lab desk.
Before you can even begin to yell he’s fussing, “Lyla, I told you not to call her!”
“But you obviously don’t know what you’re doing.”
He bites his lip as he tries not to look at you, fingers trembling as he starts to store materials back into their drawers.
“Thought you had a date.”
“And I thought I told you stay away from my station,” you feel like a baby deer walking over to him.
When you get closer he sucks in his breath like you cut him, stopping in his tracks.
“I don’t think you should be near me,” he grunts. His eyes are dark, lips swollen with the way he’s biting them.
“What are you talking about? I’m trying to help you.”
You round the corner of the desk, the image of you two almost comical. Miguel moves to the edge of the desk, chest moving faster, while you chase after him trying to get a hand on his forehead.
He felt extremely cold compared to the numbness of your palm, despite how flushed he looked. His eyes close as your hand slides from his head to his neck, muscles there tensing.
“Please. Don’t,” he whispers.
“Who else is coming here to save you?” you ask, frustrated. “What did you do anyway?”
He doesn’t answer as he peers at you. Your heart is beating faster and you can’t tell if it’s because of the air or because of the way he looks like he’s about to climb you.
Every move you made felt like sharp pricks in your skin, the tight material of your dress digging into your hips. It felt like the ends of burning flames and you wanted it off. Your breaths were picking up and you couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on other than Miguel being your cooling solution.
“Miguel,” you sounded like you ran a marathon when all you did was step into his space.
“It’s the shocking formula that I screwed up. That’s why everything feels-“
“Like I need you,” you interrupt. “Like I want you on top of me.”
The insides of your thighs were fighting against themselves to stay together, the urge to let your legs fall around him strong.
“That’s just the chemicals talking. W-we can get somewhere safe and separated.”
You grab the back of his neck and pull yourself even closer, his hands gripping the table like a lifeline as he groans.
“So you don’t want me?” you press against him, caging a knee around him right next to his hand. “You don’t think about me?”
You can almost feel his heartbeat matching yours as you pull yourself up.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t wonder how I feel when you come into my lab snooping around? How I feel when you come in here barking orders?”
Your face is in his neck and you feel yourself clench around nothing as you take a deep breath. He smells like coffee and fabric softener, but there’s an underlying wave of musk. Of something so unbelievably him and you want to keep that scent close forever.
“I imagine you’re annoyed. But a job is a job.”
“But you still come in here asking for things you know someone else can do,” your panties are soaked, and from the way his nose flares, you know he knows. “Why?”
His teeth grit as you start to grind on him, the feeling giving you an inch of relief that only makes you want more.
“I, I don’t- It’s because I,” the counter began to crack under his hands. His muscles were pulled taut. “Dios, ayúdame.”
Maybe you were wrong, and your hazy mind only brought thoughts from the subconscious one.
“Fine. I get that you don’t like me but could you at least give me some type of relief?” you were whining in his ears at this point, a complete 180 of how you left him earlier today. With every grind of your hips, you left noises in his skin, desperate.
The desk made a terrible sound as Miguel finally lets go and grabs around your waist. Your breath is slammed out of you as your back hits the wall, Miguel’s hand holding your head to stop it from crashing into the wall too.
Your throat makes a gargled sound as Miguel licks down your jaw, his talons ripping into your dress. His tongue swipes into your mouth, breaths rapid as he finally gets a taste.
“I do like you. More than I should,” his words were passed right into you. “You and your smart mouth.”
“Then stop talking and do something about it.”
A yank in your hair stops your complaints, Miguel kissing down your side. Every press of his lips left a chilly flutter. Your hips are moving frantically, patience wearing thin. Right as you’re about to say something again, he flips you, the layers of your dress falling as he rips into your panties.
The blood rushes to your head as he takes a bite into your thigh, sucking as your legs fall to his shoulders.
You moan his name, hands gripping at his thighs. His kisses led to your lips, swollen and dripping. From your clit to your entrance, he groaned as he covered you, drinking like you were water in the middle of the night.
You felt like you were going to slip, but Miguel’s arms were looped around your legs, not letting go. His suit was in your way, your mouth salivating as his crotch stared back at you. Your fingers could only dig as far as his suit allows and you have half a mind to call Lyla to disengage it.
“Please,” you sigh as you rub his bulge with your cheek. “I need it so bad.”
“Cállate,” he hums, face delving deeper into you. The sound of him licking up every drop echos off the cool walls and the light of his suit dims away letting you see what you’ve been waiting for.
His length hits your chin, precum spilling down and you’ve never been more excited for a man to go commando. You open your mouth and let your breath hit him as you take a swipe down to his balls.
Miguel’s grunts and shifts his hips back. His tip swerves around your face as he tries to find your mouth without unlatching his jaw from your sex. You help out with the last bit of sanity you have, and once you wrap your lips around him, his hips snap hard onto you.
All you can feel is Miguel entering you from top to bottom, his hands keeping you stationed in your position. There’s no room to do anything as he’s devouring you and taking your breath away at the same time. Two of his fingers sink into you, and you jerk from the difference between his skin and his tongue.
Miguel nibbles at the hood of your clit, urging you to be still. Whenever his fingers leave you, his pelvis fills your senses. Your throat gags around him, spit building to keep up with his thrusts.
“So good,” he hums. His pace picks up and the tears in your eyes fall to the floor. “Made for me. Only me.”
Your fingers wrap around his thighs and squeeze tight, your vision fading as you try to take in pockets of air. The shake in your legs and the broken moans that escaped your lips only ignited him.
“Bebé,” his hips stutter. He’s sloppy as he drools over the entrance, voice loud. “Bebé, you’re so, ngh.”
He cums down your throat, balls twitching against your face. You close your eyes and try to swallow everything, jaw aching. Miguel groans your name as he slides his dick out to the tip, a few spurts still landing on your lips. You cough, position making everything go north.
The taste of him was delicious, but you needed more of him elsewhere. Your mouth was as drenched as your cunt and yet you still felt empty.
When Miguel flips you back upright, you’re ready to pounce on him again. The state of you both is alarming. Your breasts have completely fallen out of your dress, that black thing barely holding on by its zipper. Miguel’s suit is phasing in and out in the most obscene places. There’s slick up to his eyebrows and his cum is all over your cheeks.
He grabs your jaw and runs his tongue over your face, cleaning up his mess. You let him live in his own bubble before that burning in your core came back.
Your nails dig into his shoulders and your whispers of “more” come to light. You’re clawing at him like a cat begging him to do something, anything, to make this feeling go away.
“Miguel,” you gasp as he sinks his teeth into your skin. “Miguel, it hurts. Fix it, Miggy, please.”
You guide his hands down your body and place them on your ass. His touch sates you for only a moment, but your body reacts as if he needs to be deep in your bones. He spreads your ass and groans as the sound of how eager you are for him follows.
“You’re not ready,” are the words that make you even more frustrated. Your hands pushing and pulling at him, ready to try and put him where you want him to go.
He clicks his teeth and flexes his wrists. His webs tie your wrists together, neon red strings leaving a buzz on your skin. He yanks your dress off and you stumble with the motions.
The clinical room doesn’t aid the building heat you feel, but Miguel turning you around and pressing you into the wall as he cuts the rest of your panties off does.
He squats and grabs two hands full of you.
He spits onto your hole, mesmerized as he watches it slide to your entrance. “Qué hermosa,” he whispers.
You bend, whimpering as your folds cover his nose, clenching and grinding.
“God,” you sigh. Something this small was going to bring you to the edge so quickly. “D-don’t stop.”
“Greedy,” Miguel says as if he’s not moving the fat of your ass to nudge his face into you. The arch in your back deepens as he continues and your whines get higher.
He smacks your right cheek, sound echoing off the metal tables, and you shout his name as you coat his tongue.
Tranquility clears your mind for a second, one where the flowery scent in the air is less strong.
The peace leaves just as fast as it came when Miguel gets rid of his suit and stands behind you in all of his glory.
His eyes followed from your dewey face to the curve of your hips to bitten thighs to feet with one heel still on.
“He didn’t deserve to see this,” he says.
“W-what?”
Miguel ignores you and pulls your wrists up straight, a confused noise leaving you. He wraps another web around your ankles and huffs. He sets your arms under your chest, your hands in front of you like a prayer.
When he picks you up by your waist, his dick lines up with your ass.
He groans as he grinds, watching himself disappear and reappear.
You try to move with him, “No, not there. Inside.”
“You’re always so distracting,” he growls. He slides his length between your thick thighs and you nearly scream as his hips hit your ass, his tip just barely passing over your clit. “Can never think straight when I see you.”
He rubbed over the bite he left on your shoulder, “So pretty. My pretty baby.”
His low voice right in your ears only made you wetter. He was holding you like you were his toy, fucking the inside of your thighs with ease.
Miguel could cry watching your ass bounce on his stomach. Your legs were soft and warm and he just couldn’t stop.
“Want you so bad. Need to fuck you again and again and again,” he said as your thighs quivered around him.
“Please, Miguel. Make me yours,” your voice crowded the sound of his grunts as he held you up and pounded away.
Those were the magic words to get him to lean back with a firm grip on you and release all over the wall. It was everywhere, from your legs to the wall to the ceiling.
He set you to the floor with shaky arms, and you started to sob.
All of this and you still wanted more. If this was making you feel this insane, you can only imagine the small relief Miguel was feeling after being exposed for longer.
“C’mere,” he pulls you to the bare floor and cuts the webs. You immediately try to climb him, legs wrapping around his waist.
He was painfully hard for someone who came twice now.
Your cries of “inside” slur together, tears running down your face. Miguel was no better, fangs dripping with venom and the hairs on skin raised.
The two of you tussle as Miguel tries to keep your hips to stay stationary. You kept jerking in order to get some sort of friction but he was baring his teeth to get you to quit.
You dip your nails into his shoulders and arms while he drags a talon down your sternum to snap your bra off.
A clatter of your stiletto sounds off across the room as he pinches your thigh, “Easy, beautiful. Let me take care of you, yeah?”
“Fucking hurry,” you whine.
He shushes as he plunges inside of you, the noise you both make as loud as a choir.
Your eyes roll back as Miguel presses, bending your body in half.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel leans to whisper onto your lips.
Tight is the first thing that comes to mind and heat is the next.
He moves his hips up and slams back down, your ass shifting from the pressure.
“Miguel!”
“That’s it. Talk to me.” All of that chatter earlier and now you can barely get out a word.
“H-harder,” your hands don’t know where to go. They’re grabbing Miguel, they’re falling next to your head, they’re grabbing at your breasts as Miguel jerks your body.
Miguel goes to open your jaw, lips pulling on your tongue to suck. It’s tender and sensual compared to the way his balls are slapping against you. There’s a ring of white on his shaft getting thicker and thicker as he continues.
“Pretty thing,” he says as he lets your tongue go, a string of saliva falling to your neck. “Watched you on the cameras. Always.”
That stirs something in you, a spark in your chest as you see stars.
“Did you want to do this to me when you watched me?” you manage out.
“Yes.”
“I can put on a show for you next time.”
“Yes.”
“You can come in here. ‘N fuck me over the counter.”
“Sí, sí, baby,” his hands push your knees next to your head and he ruts against you. His thighs were straining as he took and took.
A yell pulls itself from your core, that burning feeling getting a crash of cold water. The dam bursts and you’re running all over Miguel, essence leaving every time he inches out and back in.
“Gonna fill you up,” he rasps, eyes glazed over.
You nod your head, clenching and pulsing around him.
His eyes don’t leave yours as he shudders against you. You suck him in, gaining a deep moan from him, “Así, bebé. Take it.”
It’s like you can finally think as his cum overflows, your heart rate finally slowing.
He stares at you as you both come back to reality. Your body is limp, the weight of Miguel making itself known.
“Holy shit,” you wiggle and he catches the hint. He lifts a bit and pulls out. The swirl of you two falls out of you in waves. “What. The fuck.”
“God,” Miguel mumbles. “No shocking way we just did that.”
“You can’t say that when the evidence is leaking out of me.”
Miguel groans as he watches you, your face pouty and your hole glistening. It was intoxicating.
His dick twitches, coming to life again the longer he watches.
“‘M sorry in advance,” he says as he pulls you into his lap.
“Just take care of it, O’Hara.”
Tumblr media
The two of you sat in the middle of the floor, breathing hard. Pieces of consciousness were starting to come back.
“You looked stunning tonight,” Miguel said. He looked at your shredded dress on the floor. “I’m glad he won’t see you in that dress anymore.”
The snort that leaves your nose turns into a full-blown laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“You just took my soul ten times over and you’re worried about a guy I just met less than a week ago. I fear I’m ruined for anyone else.”
“Oh,” he smiles. “Good.”
“You still should take me on a date. You’ve got a lot to explain.”
Flashes of him confessing to his habit of watching you from afar come back, “O-of course.”
“And you owe me a new dress.”
“On it.”
Lyla pops up next to you both, a blindfold over her shades, “Is it safe to talk to you guys now?”
Miguel checks his gizmo, “I think we’re good for about forty minutes. The effects are starting to wear off.”
“Excellent!” She throws the fabric to the side, “Oh my god, this room is a mess.”
You look at the array of substances over the room and grimace. The entire hall will have to be on lockdown.
“Well, I managed to vent out the solution. You two should be ok soon.”
You lean on Miguel’s chest and close your eyes, happy to hear good news.
“Kind of sad that this is what it took for you to confess, Miguel,” she comments.
“Lyla!”
You laugh again, “Some confession.”
“That’s enough,” Miguel scowls.
Your giggles die down as you pull yourself onto Miguel’s thigh, bubbles in your chest molding into moans as you start to grind over his thigh.
“I’m starting to think you guys are just bluffing,” Lyla gags before she disappears. “Let me know when you’re done.”
“I think,” you nuzzle into his neck, “this’ll be the last time. I’m tired.”
“If not, we can take it to my house.”
The world blurs again as you and Miguel connect under the white lights.
Tumblr media
Take a shot every time I say breath or breathe 😭. Anywho, as always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!
773 notes · View notes
kooktrash · 2 years ago
Text
summer bummer, baby | jeon jungkook [1 of 2]
Tumblr media
summary: summertime is supposed to be a time of easy living and that’s what you were hoping for when you signed up for an extra credit program cleaning up the shores of Busan and staying in a luxurious beach house. what you didn’t sign up for was to live with Jungkook, a failed talking stage who you’ve avoided for the past few months. despite having a slight disliking toward each other you find yourselves be by pulled back into each other throughout your stay. the only question that remains is if this is just going to be a summer thing or something more.
TWO PART SERIES
➢ genre/au: enemies to lovers/beach read. jungkook x y/n [afab she/her]
➢ 12.6k words
warnings: soft e2l. smüt with plot. beach foreplay. handsy sunscreen scenes. oral [f and m]. händjob. cünnilingus [face sitting] heavy makeout and groping. jealous jk. jealous y/n. jk is a soft tsundere [v antisocial and cold except to y/n —mostly]. love bites. jk almost gets into a fight over y/n. y/n meets jk’s family. future smüt
What started as excitement had turned to complete disgust the second your eyes locked with his but it is at least fair to say that he’s feeling the same.
It was supposed to be a summer at the beach spending your days in a summer house and meeting hot guys, not spending two months with the biggest asshole you’ve ever met. You aren’t even sure how exactly this happened but you do know that you should have prepared for the worst. You were in the same environmental science class, for fuck’s sake. You both knew about this summer job but because you refused to speak to each other you didn’t know you would actually be living together.
“Alright, Professor Choi’s been kind enough to rent out his beach house to you all for the summer,” your student-teacher Jin, started speaking once the charter bus came to a stop in beach suburbia, “I understand you’re all adults but let’s not forget the reason you’re here. This is being sponsored by the University and there is zero tolerance for misbehavior so let me go over some rules.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you stared out the window hearing your professor list off rules.
‘No parties—outside guests are allowed but not past capacity.’
‘No illegal substances permitted whatsoever, no destruction of property unless you’re ready to pay for whatever is broken out of pocket.’
‘If you miss a shift, provide a notice at least three hours prior and if you miss too many back to back you’ll pay your own trip back to Seoul and there will automatically be a deduction in your attendance record as part of the credit program.’
“Wow, this is school away from school, how am I supposed to get laid in this quick paced environment?” Jimin joked as he nudged Jungkook’s arm playfully. He barely reacted as he stared out the window waiting for the moment to get out of this hot bus.
“Yes Mr. Park, that’s the point,” Jin said, sending him a glare, “You’re here because you applied to get extra credit, not a vacation for you to get ‘laid’.”
Jimin lifted a hand to his forehead as if saluting the professor and it made Jungkook crack a smile when he rolled his eyes and continued.
“Mr. Kim! Question,” another student, Hoseok, raised a hand, “So if we were to want to… get laid? Can we do that in the house or do we gotta do it on the beach? Or is it absolutely prohibited to de-stress after a hard day’s work picking up trash?”
An eruption of light laughter filled the bus as the student-teacher’s eye twitched in annoyance. Even you managed to laugh a little at that guy’s fair question. The student-teacher only glared at him, “Get off the bus, I’m tired of you all.”
“Wanna room together?” The girl you’ve spent the last four hours on the back of a bus asked as everyone began to line up to get off. You’re actually kind of surprised Sora would want to room with you after how awkward you’ve been. To be fair, you’ve done very little talking since this morning when you arrived at campus waiting for the shuttle bus and spotted no other than Jeon Jungkook, that was enough to ruin your mood. So it took you by surprise that she still wanted to room with you. With that in mind, you gave a subtle nod to her question and she smiled.
You both joined the others outside trying to get your suitcases out but you refused to get closer. Jungkook was one of the ones helping everyone get the luggage out of the compartment on the side of the bus you weren’t going to get close to him—except till he pulled out your suitcase looking around to see who would take it. Your eyes met as you practically snatched it out of his hands without a thank you and turned away.
Jungkook was more annoyed than he let on. He didn’t even look fazed by the fact that you were coming, acting indifferent but inside he was punching the air. He’s had to spend two semesters with you and now he can’t even catch a break over the summer? He gets that this was some extra credit program but why did you have to be here? It’s not that he completely hates you, it's just awkward.
The two of you had a failed talking stage a couple months back because you were both too flakey and immature. Since then it’s just been annoying to see each other. You texted enough to know a good amount about each other and that’s why it’s so weird, nothing ever came out of your talking so now anytime you see each other it’s just a reminder that you’re practically strangers who know too much about each other.
“I’m so happy we’re gonna be living with hot girls this summer,” Jimin whispered once they passed Jin as he unlocked the front door. It was a large white house with light beige accents like the doors, garage, trimming, etc. It also had large glass windows and it was just huge, like a scene out of a movie.
There were eight of you in total and aside from you, Jungkook didn’t know the others that well. He’s met the three other guys a couple times but not enough to be close friends with them. They all attended different lecture times for the same class so it makes sense that he’s not familiar with everyone else and on top of that the ‘supervisor’ here is the student teacher who’ll be staying in the guest house just next door all on his own so he doesn’t even count.
Despite being in college there are still rules in this house—it’s your professor’s beach house after all—and it’s Jin’s job to make sure everything happens smoothly. He’s practically a babysitter who directed you all down the halls of your bedrooms.
Jungkook didn’t mind the rules and the place was big enough that he could find a private spot for himself but he did have to find a roommate and his best luck is Jimin, so it’s best he plays nice.
“I guess,” was all he said in response to Jimin’s statement following everyone else into the house. The place was amazing and everyone clearly thought so, Jungkook now knew what his tuition money was used for at least.
The interior of the house looked like a typical modern style with light color and there were four bedrooms but only three will be used for all eight students. It sounded cramped but the bedrooms were huge and the girl’s room was specifically split into two separate rooms that were connected by a bathroom and large closet they could all share. The boys had two separate bedrooms but much smaller and aside from the two rooms there was an entertainment room too. Overall, the house was amazing and that’s without going into detail about the main level.
Once everyone had split to unpack their bags is when the real conversations started.
“Why are they all so hot?” One of the girls, Mirae, started saying. All four of you were all in the vanity area unpacking your things in the closets.
“My favorite is Jimin,” Sora pointed out as she took out folded clothes from her suitcase, “But I’ll admit Jungkook is really fucking hot.”
“I agree, he’s not usually my type but it’s hard to ignore a guy that looks like that,” The fourth girl, Jia, said with a laugh. Great, you thought, feed the guy’s ego even more.
“What about you, Y/n? Anyone you think is hot?” Sora asked but you only shrugged.
“I haven’t gotten a good look at them.”
You were tired of this conversation and so was Jungkook, who was having an awfully similar one.
“Come on, you’ve got to think at least one of these girls is hot,” Hoseok said as they all gathered in Jungkook and Jimin’s bedroom. It’s the third time they’ve asked Jungkook what he thinks about you and the others but he hasn’t said anything.
He’s not going to tell them the hottest person is you and he’s got two reasons for it. One, he’ll never admit that he’s physically attracted to you ever again, second, if he says it he has no doubt in his mind that the guys will bring it up around you. Yeah it’s awkward and he dislikes you slightly but he’s also not blind. You’re his type and even if he has a distaste toward you that doesn’t change your looks.
“They’re okay,” he said with a simple shrug as he tried paying his attention on unpacking his clothes while the others talked.
“Well Y/n is hot,” the fourth guy, Jisoo, spoke up from his seated position on the floor next to his roommate, Hoseok.
“Yeah, I agree,” Jimin said, adding on to the conversation happening around Jungkook as he focused on what he was doing instead. Hoseok made sure to tell everyone he thought the same and the only one who stayed quiet was Jungkook.
For the first night you and Jungkook were able to avoid each other well enough to not have to speak to each other once. Jin had gone out of his way to buy the first round of groceries for the house and you all went out for dinner. When you came back you went straight to your room knowing tomorrow you would have to start working.
𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ
It was basically a paid school trip for you all. The main reason why you did it was for the extra credit but living on a beach for two months and getting paid for it wasn’t so bad. Your professor had proposed the idea to all of his class hours months ago. It was part of some project to keep oceans clean and he was a part of a few nonprofit organizations that did things like this but this time around you would be paid. You weren’t going to be making a crazy amount of money but enough to support yourselves while here for two months.
He made it a blind raffle sort of thing where everyone who applied for the program got put into a raffle that one of the board members would choose and you still find it bizarre that both you and Jungkook managed to get chosen.
Now you’re both waiting in the living room for Hoseok to come downstairs so the three of you could go to your first shift of the week.
“Okay, I’m here! I couldn’t find my sunglasses,” Hoseok said as he stood at the bottom of the stairs, “Are we walking or driving?”
“Doesn’t matter,” both you and Jungkook said at the same time.
“Let’s driving then, who wants to driv—“
“Me.” Once again you said it at the same time and it was hard to ignore now as you glared at each other.
“Jungkook can drive,” you gave in and said. Despite living on the beach the section you were at was more secluded than where the public usually stayed near the boardwalk. Your professor worked with beach organizers and that’s how you all got the jobs for the summer and today was your first day.
The organizer explained what you would be doing today and it was fairly easy. You would be picking up trash, setting out chairs or umbrellas, making sure no wildlife that appears on shore gets interrupted by beach goers.
You were trying to set the umbrellas up right now since it was early enough that not that many people were here yet and it let you all do morning duties first. Jungkook stood behind watching the way the wind picked up the ends of your hair and smacked it back into your face with a little smug smile. He could tell you were getting flustered but he just finished setting out chairs with Hoseok so he was taking a little break.
“Oh my god,” you groaned in frustration, flipping your hair out of your face for what felt like the billionth time, trying to get this stupid pole to click into place. Behind you, you could hear a little chuckle and immediately you turned to glare at the culprit—or culprits.
“You should’ve worn your hair up,” Hoseok joked as he came to help you but Jungkook stayed behind still laughing a little. You rolled your eyes as you let him take over watching Jungkook come over to help too.
“I don’t have a hair tie,” you told him, “And you guys have watched me struggle and just now decided to help?”
“It was funny,” Jungkook muttered, making you scoff. Of course the first thing he says to you is about how funny it was to watch you struggle. Up close now you had to force yourself to look at his face only but when he’s wearing a blue t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and the beach’s name displayed on the front it was hard to look anywhere but at his tattooed arm. You understand why all the girls are thirsting for him and at one point you did too.
“Funny?” You questioned.
“That’s what I said,” Jungkook told you as he and Hoseok finished what you couldn’t do. You didn’t pull your gaze away from his because that’s what he wanted and you were set on making him look away first. Neither one of you said anything and he knew it was because you were biting your tongue.
“Your face is funny,” you finally said immediately regretting it after how immature it made you sound. He was just annoying you. He didn’t talk to you at all yesterday and today he had the nerve to laugh when you were clearly struggling? There were tons of things you could’ve said instead that wouldn’t make him laugh like he is now.
Jungkook raised a questioning brow as he stood in front of you, having to look down now, “You can do better than that, say what’s on your mind.”
If you really wanted to say what was on your mind you would be here forever. You could start with the fact that he’s arrogant and an asshole. You could say that it’s not fair that he basically put all the blame on you for why you didn’t go out. You could point out that he thinks he’s better than everyone and that he feels like he could do whatever he wants which is so annoying. You could say that the reason you bailed on your first date is because you saw him with another girl the night before. You could tell him that every time he looked at you in class you would get annoyed looking at his stupid pretty face—but you won’t. You won’t say any of that because you have to live with him for two months.
You’re not sure how either of you had become so blissfully unaware of the third party there as Hoseok’s eyes darted between you two like he was watching a game of ping pong. He was just a little confused and so he asked, “Are you two into each other or something? I’m sensing a lot of sexual tension here. Like a little hatefuck moment.”
“What the fuck!” Jungkook nearly choked on his own spit as he took a huge step away from you, “No, we’re not. We just—it’s not what you think. I, Y/n—we, we don’t like each other.”
Hoseok lifted a suspicious brow before letting a smile adorn his face, “Alright I get it. You loathe each other—but you could’ve fooled me.”
“Whatever,” you muttered under your breath, turning away from them so they wouldn’t see the way your face flushed like Jungkook’s.
Jungkook watched you move to sit under the umbrella reaching into your bag for a bottle of sunscreen. You poured some into your palm before running it over the length of your thigh. You wore the tiniest pair of denim shorts he’s ever seen and a blue shirt like his but more fitted. He could see your bikini top straps peeking out from the neckline and he wondered what kind of bathing suit you had on underneath.
Your legs looked so smooth and the way you had them posed in front of you had his eyes following the way your hands caressed them.
He didn't realize how engrossed he was in watching you until a flying object came and hit his shoulder, hard. Jungkook whipped around rubbing at where he was hit, “What the fuck?”
“You look like you needed some,” Hoseok said as he nodded toward where you were, clearly catching Jungkook sort of checking you out. With a smack of his lips in annoyance Jungkook picked the bottle off the sand and looked back to you to make sure you didn’t see that.
You glared at both of them catching Jungkook’s eyes again and lifted a middle finger at him. With a roll of his eyes he flipped you off and turned away, you just annoyed him.
The rest of your shift went without a hitch and you needed a desperate shower after but Hoseok had other ideas. When you got back to the house he proposed a beach day and with the sun beating down on your back you did not turn down getting in the salt water.
“People are disgusting,” you had told Sora when you all headed back down to the beach for a swim, “They will literally litter anything, no wonder our oceans are polluted.”
“So you basically just picked up trash?” She asked as you both shimmied out of your shorts.
“Mostly,” you told her, tugging off your shirt, “It wasn’t bad and there were so many hot guys on the beach.”
“Like Jungkook?” Sora asked, pointing in his direction as he headed down to the shore, already letting his toes sink into the wet sand, feeling the tide rush toward him. You looked at him for a moment seeing him without a shirt and it was clear he’s updated his workout regime since the last time you talked about it months back.
But who cares?
𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ
Jungkook was able to ignore you for the most part. Aside from the first day at work he hasn’t really seen you too much. You both have only worked twice since then and because you’re on a set rotation to make sure everyone works the same amount, you haven’t seen each other that much.
Not that he minds, it’s just something he’s noticed.
He doesn’t pay attention to everything you do but you’ve got a weird relationship, alright? Of course you’ve spent the last couple of months avoiding each other but there’s a very valid reason for that.
The first time the two of you talked, you completely hit it off. You had been assigned to do a project together in the same class as the one where you joined this summer camp for. You met up in the library mostly, but you had this light banter that would go on between you that was clearly flirty, it wasn’t until after presenting your research on the destruction of the Ozone layer that you really started texting.
You were talking all the time and sometimes the conversations would drift a little too far into dating territory and you just realized you were different in some ways. Jungkook likes texting all the time whereas you could go hours without responding. He’s been in about the same amount of relationships as you and you both had been in that hook up only phase. When you did decide to try going on a date the first time he flaked but it wasn’t intentional. He had to work that night and had completely forgotten that when he agreed on a date.
The second time, you both sort of flaked after attempting to reschedule the first one. He’s not sure if you had gotten fed up with trying to find an available time to get drinks but it just wasn’t working out. You both had finally decided on a Saturday but when the day came neither of you said anything. He had been waiting for you to reach out first since he had been blowing up your phone about it the night before. You had been waiting for him to reach out first and confirm the plans since he’s the one who canceled last time. Clearly neither one of you put in the effort to make it happen so it never did.
Then, the final time you attempted to get drinks together was about three weeks later. After the second time you cut back on how much you talked but when you got back to talking like normal and set a date you ended up blowing him off completely. You didn’t even show up so clearly he was bothered by that enough to ask you about it.
You had a tiny argument over it and it just made you both realize that if it was this hard to go one just one date then you clearly weren’t working for each other and that pursuing anything past a friendship wasn’t going to happen. Of course that then made the friendship itself awkward and in the end you avoided each other.
Now he’s stuck in a house with other guys with one who seems to be clearly interested in knowing more about you.
“I’m just saying,” Jisoo said as all four guys sat outside on the deck facing the beach, “Y/n is hot, like mysterious hot since she doesn’t talk to anyone.”
“She talks to Jungkook,” Hoseok pointed out, making Jungkook roll his eyes.
“That’s because we have class together,” Jungkook said, trying not to give out too much information. He doesn’t need any of them asking questions. Besides, it’s only been a week, how do they expect you to be cool with everyone right away? He’s not defending you, he’s just being realistic, plus Hoseok is still going based off what he saw the first day of work.
“Really?” Jisoo asked, “Are you guys friends? I haven’t seen you guys talk? Did you guys date or something? It seems like you hate each other, tell me something about her.”
“Jesus,” Jimin laughed, “Obsessed much?”
Jisoo groaned, “I can’t help it. She’s so hot, have you seen her in those bikinis?”
Jungkook felt his jaw clench but he hid the action behind a glass bottle of beer as he muttered, “You’re not her type.”
“What?” Jisoo asked, clearly catching what he said. Jungkook just looked him over with a shrug, “I said you’re not her type.”
“So what is?”
Me.
… is what he would have said if he was crazy. It’s not like he’s wrong, when the two of you were talking you had tons of conversations about ideal types and how you fit each other’s even though it didn’t work out. Aside from his looks you liked that he had a sense of humor but never pushed it too far. You liked that he was calm but also knew how to get loud and have fun. You liked that he was able to have serious talks with you along with lighthearted ones. You had the same sense of humor, even similar MBTIs, so yeah, he’s still your type even if there are no feelings anymore.
Jisoo? He’s loud, obnoxious, arrogant, and rude—all of the things you can’t stand. Jungkook wouldn’t be surprised if you already had a disliking toward the guy after one week of knowing him, but it’s not like it matters to him.
So, once again he shrugged his shoulders looking off to the beach to avoid giving Jisoo an answer he wouldn’t like. He knows he’s probably getting on the guy’s nerves but he couldn’t care less. He already annoyed him enough by hearing Jisoo talk about your body and looks since the first day so he doesn’t care if the guy knows he doesn’t like him.
Like he said earlier, Jungkook doesn’t care much about you anymore but he does care that Jisoo can so freely say whatever he wants about you and expect Jungkook to help him out with you.
Fed up with Jisoo’s attempt at locker room talk, Jungkook stood abruptly and went through the glass sliding door to the living room. Just then, you and the others came through the front door holding grocery bags. His brows scrunched in curiosity as you all came in holding bags when he thought you were supposed to be having a spa day.
You walked past him to set the bags on the kitchen counter with the others when Jia came up to him with a huge smile. She felt so utterly blessed to be able to walk through the front door and find Jungkook standing there shirtless in just his swimming trunks and his hair half-up in a ponytail. She would like to thank the beach gods for this gorgeous view of a man. It didn’t matter to him that she was checking him out but that’s because his eyes went to you.
“What did you guys bring?” He asked and before you could answer, Jia was doing it for you.
“Oh! Since it’s the first Friday and we have the night free we thought it’d be cool to grill tonight and do a bonfire on the beach, then tomorrow go out drinking,” Jia said, making you scoff.
“If Jungkook doesn’t flake.”
Low blow, you know but since the first day at work he’s just been irking you. He’s just always watching you like he has something to say and you just want him to spit it out.
Jia watched the way he rolled his eyes and it was clear to her that you two weren’t very fond of each other. At least that was one less person in this house she had to worry about liking Jungkook. His tongue poked against his cheek in annoyance as he glared at you unpack the bags, “Don’t worry Jia, I would never make plans with everyone only to blow them off without saying a word. I’m better than that.”
This time you looked up glaring at him because why is he acting oblivious? He knew the reason why. He thought he could play you by going out clubbing with some girl the night before and expect you to still want to go out with him the next night? Yeah, the third failed attempt at a date was a miss because of you but he was obviously the reason why.
You were lucky that Jisoo came through the sliding door right then and there that you didn’t feel the need to respond to Jungkook’s snide remark. He flashed you a warm smile, “I heard we’re grilling tonight.”
Mirae and Sora were outside telling the rest of the boys the plan and when Jisoo saw you in here with Jungkook, of all people, he had to interrupt. It’s the summer and he’s looking for a hot fling so who better than you?
You gave him a girlish smile, “We are, can you teach me how to prep the meat?”
Immediately he went to join your side, “Only because you asked so nicely.”
Jungkook released a scoff in disbelief as he left the kitchen to go back outside, making sure to slide the door a little too hard.
𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ
It’s been two weeks now and Jungkook still can’t stand the sight of you, or no, he can’t stand the pretty sight of you.
Now that everyone’s more comfortable around each other you’ve all become very open and he can tell that just by what you wore to work today. You wore your bikini bottoms that huffed your curves perfectly and a small t-shirt with the beach’s name displayed over where your breasts were. Your hair was all over the place again and he wanted to give you the hair tie he always carried on his wrist now but he couldn’t. Not when you’re standing there flirting with some random guy.
“Taehyung, and you?” He said as he extended a hand out for you to shake.
“Y/n,” you said with a flirty smile. He’s the first guy to approach you at work that was actually hot. He had been in the middle of a volleyball game with his friends when the ball went flying and nearly hit you. It landed by your feet and he was happy to come over and get it.
“So what are you doing here?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair.
“Um, well I’m here for work but just for the summer,” you told him watching him pout just slightly but nodded understandably.
“That’s a shame, we don’t have cute girls like you here,” Taehyung said, obviously flirting and you had absolutely no problem doing it back. You smiled, “I’m sure that’s not true but I’m flattered anyway. What’s your number? Maybe we should hang out sometime?”
You were being forward but who cares? You’re only here for a few more weeks and you want to have fun with someone who doesn’t live in your house. Is that too much to ask? Taehyung was very happy when you asked for his number and he was quick to give it to you.
Jungkook was annoyed because he was working with you again and this time there wasn’t an extra person. Mirae felt sick this morning, most likely dehydrated and couldn’t come to work so it just left you two. It wasn’t so bad since you mostly did your own thing but he’s tired and hungry.
“Y/n! Are you ready to go?” He asked, coming over to where you were and placing a hand on your back, not firm but just to let you know he’s right there. The guy you had been flirting with for the past fifteen minutes looked up at him but he acted like he wasn’t even there. With an annoyed roll of your eyes you said, “I guess.”
“At least I have your number, I’ll see you around?” Taehyung asked giving you a side hug in goodbye and you nodded. Once he was gone back to his friends, you joined Jungkook as he said, “You gave him your number?”
“Yup,” you said as you put your sunglasses back on, “Let’s go home, I’m hungry.”
“Let’s go to the boardwalk,” Jungkook said, “I want Busan street food.”
“Fine,” you said thinking about all the food Jungkook used to tell you about. His family lives in Busan but he’s only gone to see them once. He doesn’t seem to mind it and you wonder why but you’re not gonna ask.
Neither one of you bothered to change into different clothes considering it was the boardwalk and everyone was dressed in bathing suits. The only downside is that you and Jungkook looked like a couple wearing your matching beach uniform attire. This time he wore blue swimming trunks with the beach’s name and no shirt. You wore a similar pair of shorts, just more casual and shorter and you only wore a bikini top since it was hotter than usual today. You could also feel the sun burning at your shoulder and Jungkook noticed it too.
“You need sunscreen,” he muttered under his breath as he dug into the beach bag you all usually bring for work.
“I know but I can’t reach it all,” you told him honestly letting your brows furrow as he took out the bottle and poured some into his hands before rubbing them together. He motioned for you to turn around and you did without much fuss.
It’s not that the two of you like each other now but you’ve given up on being rude simply because the rest of the house is too nosy. They haven’t quit asking about why you two are so snarky toward each other and you’re sure they’ve all come up with conclusions on their own but neither you nor Jungkook are going to tell them the real reason why.
Jungkook placed his hands on your shoulders feeling the warmth of your skin from the way the sun glared down on you all day. You had a tanner complexion than usual and he’s sure he does too. Your skin was smooth and his hands were able to glide down the expanse of your back.
He sort of liked it. His touches were gentle but you hated that the touch of this man in particular made you feel a sort of way. He could rub sunscreen on your back all day but that would be weird so instead he cleared his throat and pulled away saying, “Can you get mine too?”
Jungkook did not like you. Whatever romantic feelings he had for you once died off over time but…
But right now your hands felt so good massaging his muscles with sunscreen. He resisted the urge to let his head fall back in bliss as you did the same to him before the two of you went to the boardwalk. Jungkook got on his phone shortly after some time walking and with a small sigh he said, “I’ve gotta go home, my mom has a bunch of fruit she wants me to pick up. Do you want me to walk you home or do you still want food?”
You thought about it for a second, “It’s fine, I’ll just get something to eat and then go home.”
He released a small huff, “Want to come with? It’ll be quick, after we can get food. It’s a walking distance from here and it'll be quick.”
“I didn’t bring a shirt.”
“You can wear mine,” Jungkook said, rummaging through the bag that was hanging off the shoulder and tossing it to you.
“What about you?” You asked even as you slipped the shirt over your head. Jungkook just shrugged, not really caring either way as he texted away on his phone, most likely to his family.
Honestly, you just didn’t want to go back to the house. It’s fun living with so many people because you're never bored but you also just needed some time away. You loved being able to go to work and just listen to music while you did work. Plus, if you went home without eating out you would be grumpy having to make yourself something after being out in the sun.
Also, at the end of the day you’re still most comfortable with Jungkook despite getting close to Sora and the others.
So the two of you were in front of Jungkook’s home looking as ridiculous as ever with him being shirtless and you wearing the large t-shirt and small shorts.
Jungkook didn’t knock or anything, just checked if the door was unlocked and immediately yelled for his mom. You stood back awkwardly, as Jungkook walked around the house motioning you to join him outside where he found his family eating watermelon outside.
“Kook!” They cheered when they saw him and you could feel their eyes drift toward you. He pointed a thumb in your direction as he casually said, “This is Y/n, my housemate,” hugging his parents.
“Y/n?” His older brother, JungHyun, repeated your name looking between you and Jungkook with narrowed eyes before smiling knowingly and said, “I’m JungHyun.”
You ended up just having dinner at Jungkook’s parent’s house and left with baskets of watermelon to enjoy on sunny days.
𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ
The day was perfect.
Jungkook felt at ease for the most part. The only ones who had to work today were you, Jimin, and Mirae so he was just hanging out around the house.
He spent a good amount of the morning on the back deck working out as he stared at the beach. He took a morning jog and came back to lift weights but aside from that he didn’t have much to do. Usually he’ll hang out with Jimin or Hoseok but one was at work and the other was taking a midday nap. The others wouldn’t even be off work till later so he really had nothing to do. He wandered around the house trying to think of something but nothing came.
“Hey Kook,” Jia said, suddenly appearing on the deck. He had given up on a workout and lounged on the pool chairs instead. He glanced up at her, nodding his head in greeting.
“Do you mind driving me to the store? Jisoo said he’s busy and Hobi is sleeping,” Jia asked and as much as Jungkook wanted to say no, he had no reason to. With a small huff he rose to his feet looking across the beach toward the boardwalk as if he could see you working from the house—he’s tried but he can’t.
He doesn’t care, honestly, but he’s just nosy? He wants to know what you’re doing or if that guy from the beach came by to see you again.
Jungkook went inside to put on a shirt and grab the keys while Jia waited downstairs for him. He stood by the window where he had a perfect view of three familiar people walking down the shore in familiar blue shirts and his eyes landed on you. He found himself stalling now, taking his time getting dressed, doing his hair up in that half low ponytail look, reapplying deodorant, spraying some cologne. He doesn’t know why he’s getting so dressed up for the store until you catch him upstairs on your way to your room.
You looked him up and down as he stood in the narrow entryway to the next floor, “You and Jia going somewhere?”
He was a step down the stairs already as he turned to you, “The store. Do you need anything?”
“Um… maybe,” you said as you listened to the call of his name from downstairs. You didn’t know why you even said that but suddenly you have a list of things to get. He brushed his bangs back, “Want to come? We’ll wait in the car?”
You just nodded leaving to your room to get your things. Jungkook and Jia went to the car and he watched her hop into the front seat as he went to the driver’s side. He tapped on the wheel nervously as he listened to Jia tell him about all the things he needed. He would have preferred if you sat up with him but it’s not like he could’ve directed her to the back. It’s becoming very clear that your frutal attempts to stay away from each other have failed as now he finds himself wanting to be closer again.
When you came out and got in the backseat you barely talked. The silence was filled with low music playing and Jia occasionally saying suggestive things to him.
“I heard you’re a pretty decent cook, Jungkook. Any chance you’ll make me something one of these days?” Jia asked but Jungkook just shrugged glancing at the rear view mirror to see your focus solely out the window. Couldn’t you attempt a conversation with him too? Did you really hate him that much still?
Slightly annoyed at the thought he found himself saying, “Sure, whatever you like.”
You were slightly annoyed but you blamed it on the summer heat and that you were a little tired from work. You tried not to think about the fact that you only came along because you wanted to see what Jia and Jungkook would do. You never realized how close they were until Jia was putting her arm on Jungkook’s giggling at whatever he said even if it wasn’t even funny… and he just let her.
At one point you even rolled her eyes at her third whiny, ‘Jungkook’ and went off to do your own thing.
It didn’t take long for Jungkook to notice your shift in mood and at first he didn’t get it. It wasn’t until Jia grabbed him by the hand to go down a different aisle that he saw the way your eyes locked on the action. Were you annoyed with him right now?
Or were you annoyed with the way he and Jia were acting right now?
He found himself wanting to test it out. He interlocked his fingers with Jia’s as he walked with her making sure to be extra attentive. You didn’t know why you felt the need to even come and think that it would make a difference. You felt most comfortable with Jungkook but clearly he didn’t feel the same and that annoyed the shit out of you. Why bother inviting you if he was just going to ignore you the whole time?
You thought you were finally getting over that tension between you two but if this was how it was going to be then you’ll be the same. That’s why you grabbed a box of condoms at the checkout line and set them down on the belt in a completely different row than them.
“So what’d you get?” Jia asked you once you were all in the car again and this time you willingly sat on the back. “Condoms.”
You missed the way she turned to Jungkook with twinkly eyes as if hoping he would look back at her and share some sort of inside joke about it but he didn’t. His eyes were dead set on the road, fists clenching around the steering wheel, face stone cold.
“Oh,” Jia laughed softly, “I didn’t know you were interested in someone like that. Who?”
“I don’t know yet, I’ve got a few options,” you muttered, arms crossed over your chest, shutting yourself off from them and looking out the window again. You were being petty but you didn’t even care. If those two were going to have fun and flirt in the house why shouldn’t you do the same?
The entire ride back to the house was filled with a silence louder than the music. Jungkook kept thinking about the guy at the beach. Were these for you and Taehyung? Did he actually come by and see you again when Jungkook wasn’t there? Why was that thought driving him absolutely insane right now? So you have absolutely no problem meeting up with some random guy but when it came to planning to ever go out with him you flaked? Did he do something? Were you just never serious about him?
He released a small scoff, lost in his own thoughts as he parked the car in the driveway. The three of you got out all your things and headed inside where everyone was.
You’re not sure if Jia lacked maturity or if she felt somewhat threatened by you but the second you all made it inside she loudly exclaimed, “Y/n bought condoms so she’s probably gonna get more action than the rest of us.”
Immediately there was a cluster of awe’s from Jimin and Hoseok who have failed to get laid these last couple weeks and you still had a month to go here. Not bothering to even act like you cared what she said you went up to your bedroom unaware that Jungkook stormed up to his clearly ticked off.
“Does Y/n have more game than us?” Hobi said as they all followed Jimin into his shared bedroom with Jungkook, “I wanna get laid too. Life is so unfair for a man.”
Jungkook was in their bathroom pretending to do something as Jisoo had the nerve to sit on his bed and say, “At least now I know I have a chance with Y/n. She must be a little desperate if she bought condoms. A guy usually does that when he knows he’s gonna find someone to fuck.”
The room fell silent as Jisoo laughed, clearly not reading the sudden awkwardness in the room at what he said. He continued on, “You know… Y/n’s always showing off her body for attention. I bet that’s why she came anyway.”
Jimin shook his head, “I don’t think that’s ri—“
“What did you say?” Jungkook asked so suddenly that it was like everyone forgot he was even there. Jisoo looked up at the others as if seeing if they’d agree with him before saying, “You know… Y/n’s hot, she knows it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came on this trip for a good fuck. She’s pretty much asking for it. I mean why else buy co—“
Jungkook was in front of him in a heartbeat, towering over him with a dark gaze, “Talk about Y/n like that one more time.”
“I dare you.”
Jisoo’s smile vanished and a sense of anger replaced it. Feeling defensive now he rose to his feet so that Jungkook wouldn’t think he intimidated him even if he sort of did.
“Jungkook. Jisoo, just chill for a minute, the girls are gonna hear an—“
“I don’t give a shit who hears,” Jisoo says with a scoff, “If I want to say that I plan on sleeping with Y/n then I’m gonna say it. If Jungkook is bothered by the fact that she doesn’t want him, that's not my fault—Ah.”
Jungkook’s fists tightened over the collar of Jisoo’s shirt pulling him closer and twisting the fabric tighter. Jisoo’s hands immediately flew to Jungkook’s forearms trying to get him to let go. He might talk his shit but if there was one thing he knew it was that he was not getting into a fight with a man who did boxing as a hobby and could lift more than his body weight.
Everyone knew Jungkook was serious just by the look in his eye and in hopes of easing the tension Jimin said, “Jungkook come on, let go. He’s just running his mouth, don’t let it get to you. It’s not worth fighting.”
“Oh but I think he’s asking for it,” Jungkook said jostling Jisoo enough to make him sway as he looked him dead in the eye, “Aren’t you?”
“Let me go, man.”
“No, I want to hear you try and run your mouth about Y/n again,” Jungkook said, testing him now but Jisoo only shook his head. Jisoo looked around hoping to see if they would get him to lay off when he stared at the door.
“Y/n.”
Jungkook let go almost immediately, turning his head to the door and catching you standing there. You must’ve left your room and heard the commotion.
“Y/n, I don’t know what you heard but this guy’s cra—“
“Jisoo. Shut the fuck up and don’t talk to me,” you said looking absolutely disgusted in him, “You’re worse than the trash we pick up off the shore—and just so you know you’re the last guy I would ever fuck.”
He scoffed, “Bitch.”
Jungkook stormed over to where Jisoo was standing in front of you trying to make his leave. Your hand stuck out, palm flat against the ridges of his abs as you looked up at him, “Stop. He’s not worth it.”
“Y/n,” Jungkook said softly now, not caring at all about the other two who stayed in the room awkwardly, “He’s got no right talking about you like that and I don’t know how much you heard but I have a right to beat his ass.”
“I have a right to beat his ass,” you said in the same soft tone he used. He looked down at the hand that was still on his stomach and before he knew it his hand was down on your waist.
“Y/n none of us agree with what he said at all,” Hoseok said but your attention was on Jungkook who still had his jaw clenched thinking about Jisoo and how much he would really enjoy putting his hands on the guy.
“Let’s go for a walk,” you offered and before he knew it he was nodding his head following you downstairs ignoring the others as they looked in confusion as to why Jisoo stormed out the front door and what the yelling was all about. Jia watched as Jungkook’s hand’s never left your waist as he followed you outside to the deck and down to the sandy beach.
“You defended me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Jungkook asked as you both took your shoes off and let them at the end of the backyard to walk toes in the sand.
“I thought you still hated me.”
“You think that means I’m gonna let some guy say shit about you? Did you forget we talked about some serious things back then and how hurt you used to be?” Jungkook asked, “Besides I never hated you.”
You winced at his reminder. Back then you would have serious talks about past relationships and how you were both treated awful in them. He always told you that he had no respect for guys who would tear their girlfriends down and that if he could he would fight every single one of them for you. Clearly he hasn’t gone back on his word.
The sun had already set and what had started as a day quickly changed because of Jisoo. Jungkook was tired out but he didn’t want to go inside yet. He wanted to enjoy the empty beach with you and try and talk.
“Want to sit?” He asked, pointing to the shore. It was low tide and you could get close enough to the water without worrying about getting soaked. You nodded your head going to sit as he dropped to the sand next to you.
“Y/n.”
“Yeah?”
“Why’d you ditch me that night? I was waiting for you for an hour and you never showed and when we argued about it… you wouldn’t tell me why,” Jungkook finally said.
You took a deep breath deciding to be honest, “I saw you with a girl the night before and I guess I got kind of jealous and thought you were playing me since you flaked the first time.”
Jungkook looked visibly taken back, “I—the only girl I talked to other than you was my coworker. I went out with her because it was all of us but I just ended up taking her home because she was drunk. There was never anything between us.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” you said awkwardly but he just shook his head. The sand was cool underneath you two and the water was a pretty shade of light blue and foamy white.
“It’s my fault, the first time I mean. I did flake so I get why you thought that so I’m sorry too.”
“Ugh,” you groaned as you fell back to lay down in the sand. Jungkook used his hands for support to sit but he looked down at you, “What?”
“Just annoyed. We could’ve avoided all this if I just asked you about it,” you told him making him laugh softly. He lied down next to you, “Maybe but I think I like you more after hearing what you told Jisoo and that wouldn’t have happened if we made up sooner.”
You laughed with him, “He’s so gross.” Jungkook nodded in agreement as the two of you looked up at the darkening sky.
“But I liked that you stuck up for me so thank you,” you said, making him smile.
It was quiet for a moment, “So why’d you buy the condoms?”
You groaned in embarrassment as you tried cov ring your face but he was on his side looking at you, “Because you were only paying attention to Jia after I thought we were beginning to be friends again and I don’t know… it was stupid.”
“You were jealous?” He asked if you actually were because every time he sees you with another guy he gets jealous. A little smile came to his face and you hit his arm lightly, “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m not, I’m just surprised. You know how many guys are into you? I’ve been jealous this entire trip and I don’t know, I’m just surprised to know you were too,” Jungkook admitted and you looked over at him too.
Neither one of you said anything for a moment and you just spent time outside deep into the night.
You looked at Jungkook, he looked at you, and you’re not sure if this was an unspoken agreement or if it was just a long time coming but before you knew it you were both leaning in for a kiss.
You captured his lips with yours making him let out a small groan as he kissed back fiercely. It was careful at first still seeing if this was something you both wanted before Jungkook began to turn his upper body enough to hover over you. His tongue found yours and explored the inside of your mouth, swiping along yours and letting them glide against each other creating a pool of drool. Your hand was on the side of his face, fingers digging into his hair as a hand of his reached over to hold you down against the sand by your waist. Jungkook felt his blood rushing, as every part of him felt on fire. You pulled away first, tugging his lips between your teeth before kissing him even harder than the first time. He let his tongue go even deeper into your mouth causing you to moan softly, breathing getting heavier as a light breeze coursed through the two of you noting that it was night time on the beach.
It was when a seagull went over your heads did the two of you realize how exposed you were. Raccoons had a tendency to be on shore once the sun had set looking for burrows of baby sea turtles and neither one of you wanted to be out when they came scurrying past. The lights in the house were off for the most part due to how late it was and the two of you were finally able to see how long you had been out.
“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled against your lips before pulling away enough to look at you. His hands were gently around your face wiping away the blown over sand from your features and brushing your hair back, “I didn’t want to be here at first because it was still awkward.”
He placed a tender kiss against your lips, “But if I wasn’t then… you know, we’d probably still be mad at each other.”
You reached forward to pin his bangs behind his ears, his ponytail loose and almost out but he just looked so handsome like this.
“The beach is so empty,” you commented as your hand trailed down the tight space between your bodies. Jungkook looked around, it was dark out and stars scattered across the night sky. You were utterly alone out here just making out like you hadn’t been put off by each other for the last few months.
You glide your hand down his chest, feeling the faint outline of his hard abs through the black shirt he's wearing with the sleeves cut off. He looked down at your hand, breath hitting when your hand reached the waistband of his trunks. You bite your lip as he leans down and starts kissing and sucking on your neck again.
You let your hand trail lower over his swimming trunks, softly tracing the outline of his length that was slowly hardening in your touch. It didn’t take long for you to notice he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. You let out a light gasp as he kissed along the curve of your jaw toward the end of your ear sucking just below it, body already shifting against you for more friction. He let out a low rumble through his chest when your hand palmed his erection, eyes already hazy as he dug his face into your neck.
"Dangerous territory," He mutters lowly, pressing his body down onto yours, kidding you deeply as your hand goes back down to his crotch, “We’re gonna get caught.”
It hasn’t left either one of your mind’s that you’re still outside laying against each other as the warm sand tickled your back and the waves of the sea acted as background noise. You trace the hard outline of his dick through the thin material.
"Fuck," He moans into your mouth, pulling back to catch his breath as he looks down at your hand. You slowly stroke up and down his length as you grab it through the material.
He raised his hips up just enough for you to be able to sink your hand inside his trunks and he bit his lip in anticipation. If you didn’t care that you were outside then neither would he, if anything it’s just arousing him even more.
You slowly and teasingly stroke up and down, palming him at a slow pace as he lets out a groan, “Y/n.”
You smile, “Jungkook.”
“Do you really want to do this?” He asked and for a second you weren’t sure if he meant what you were doing right now or what you were doing with each other in general. Instead you grip him by the base, moving your hand up to run your thumb over his mushroom tip. You spread his precum around with the pad of your thumb, “You don’t want to?”
"Fuck..." He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours, “I do. So fucking bad.”
You reconnect your lips with his, pumping his cock moving your hand up and down in tight then loose strokes. Your bodies were still so pressed against each other that if someone watched you from a distance then it would just look like a heavy makeout and not like your hand was jerking him off under his trunks. You start to move your hand quicker up and down his length, watching him as he presses his face into your neck and starts sucking and kissing the skin beneath your ear as you pulled his trunks down enough to slip only his hard length out for better access.
You speed up your hand even further, twisting and flicking your wrist as you feel him throb and twitch, hips bucking into your hand chasing that feeling that was getting closer, embarrassingly so. With a small tsk sound you release him making his body freeze before bringing your hand up. He looked down at it and his eyes stayed on yours as he spit right into it, you doing the same before running your palm against his tip then down his length.
He lets out a groan as he twitches, your quick strokes bringing him closer and closer to release. If anyone were to ask him if he knew you, of all people, would be giving him a wet handjob on the beach he’d laugh in their face.
"God, I'm gonna cum......" He moans out, placing both hands on the sand to hold himself up enough to not completely crush you with his waist as he fucked into your hand. You smirk and look up at him making him fuck your fist faster. With a small push-up then back down he crashes his lips against yours, growling into your mouth as he cums. Your hand immediately gets drowned in his release and the bottom of your shirt does too but you just smile into the kiss as his breathing gets heavier and more uneven.
“You know, I’ve never been to the movie room,” he whispered softly to you and you looked toward the house. He was still pressed against you but you had tucked him back in once he reeled back in.
The movie room was one of the only other rooms aside from your bedrooms and it was pretty much untouched. That meant that it was good for privacy and right now he felt like he needed privacy—with you. He wants to take you on a date and try it again but right now he wants to feel you even more.
“Me neither,” you said with furrowed brows as you tried to understand why he randomly brought it up. He didn’t answer you right away, tugging on your bottom lip lightly between his teeth, “Let’s go see it.”
You gave a brief nod of your head and he was helping you to your feet reaching behind you to dust off the sand for your denim shorts. He took your hand in his and led you back to the house being as quiet as possible. You still weren’t fully sure what you were doing but it didn’t seem to stop either one of you from making it into the movie room. Jungkook checked the hallways to see if they were empty before locking the two of you in.
Before you knew it the two of you were laying on the dozens of floor pillows and cushions on the floor making out with a movie playing in the background. This time you were on top. You were laying over him with one leg raised high against his waist with his hand on your butt, fingers pinching just slightly. Your other leg was between his and it was getting hard to ignore the growing length against your thigh. Jungkook reached for that same leg pulling it over so you could straddle him properly as you pulled back for a breath. His hands slid down to your eyes, bottom lip between his lips, hips softly grinding against yours as you reached for the hem of your shirt. He leaned up enough to yank the back of his shirt and with your help he threw it somewhere with yours.
It was very clear that it was your turn to be pleased by the way Jungkook so easily pulled you up onto all fours over him as he undid the button of your little denim shorts and yanked them down. You took it from there and shimmied them off fully before his hands gripped your hips tightly once more and you couldn’t silence the squeal you let out as he tugged you forward nearly dropping you over him, “Ju—Jungkook, what are you doing?”
“Wan’ you to sit on my face, like now Y/n,” he said in a serious tone. You shook your head, “No, I—do you really want me to?”
“Y/n…” he looked you dead in the eye as you sat on his chest with his hands flat on your thighs to make sure you didn’t move back. Your knees were over your shoulders and you just needed one pull to do what he asked and it was just all so tempting when he could smell your arousal.
“You just took my dick in your hand and made me cum out on the beach and you’re asking me if I want you to sit in my face?” Jungkook asked looking amused but also not, “I want you to ride my face, got it?”
You licked your lips at the thought and before you knew it Jungkook was already pushing you that small space forward until your heat was hovering over his face but not yet pressing into him. You sighed letting yourself relax and brush your fingers through his hair as he looked up dazed and waiting for your consent.
“You gonna show me how good you are with your tongue?” You asked, making his eyes roll just slightly.
“God yes,” he said with a sigh as he finally pulled you down the rest of the way, feeling your hand tighten in his hair. Your underwear was still in the way but it didn’t stop him from pressing his mouth to the soaked fabric of your underwear and his nose lightly tapped against your hooded clit already making you squirm. He gripped your thighs firmly now to keep you in place and just let him mouth at your covered cunt, licking at the fabric for just a hint of a teasing taste.
You tried not to put too much weight on him but he practically forced you down, face right against your soaked panties rubbing gently. You squirmed, “Jungkook.”
“Hm?” He hummed against you, hair brushed out of his face by your fingers, sparkly doe eyes looking at you from between your legs. You couldn’t see it but you knew he was smirking and it didn’t take long for Jungkook to slide his hands up from your thighs to your hips. Before you knew it he was gripping one side of your underwear and yanking in it hard enough to tear. He even jostled you a bit and then he did the other side too until it slipped off and he threw them somewhere far.
Jungkook looked up at your wet pussy, a line of slick dripping onto his tongue as he let his mouth open expectantly. As it touched the tip of it he did one swift lick between your folds to catch whatever else might drip. Immediately you gasped as he did it again, not wasting a moment to tease any longer. He’s so turned on he can’t even register the thought of taking his time.
“Careful,” You started to speak again, trying to remind him to take it easy since the others were sleeping and the television wasn’t that loud. It was pointless as he gave you another long lick followed by another. You bent forward, bracing yourself with one hand again in his hair pulling just slightly making him groan into your cunt as he tightened his grip on your thighs. Jungkook’s tongue worked upwards, shifting from long licks to short flicks against your clit. You couldn’t stop the rocking of your hips, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning loudly and letting everyone know what the two of you were doing.
“Fuck,” you whispered softly, bucking your hips forward as his hands slid to your butt, gripping hard enough to grind your pussy down on his face as he ate you out.
You released a low groan and this time Jungkook lifted you off despite your protests. He glared up at you, “You want everyone to know how I’m eating your pussy out?”
“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes, hips still moving just slightly praying he’d just continue, “Slow down then.”
Jungkook gave you a cocky smile, his hold already growing firm as he sent you a wink before pulling you over his face once again licking at your pussy.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck," you murmured, nearly under your breath as his head moved frantically to follow the way you fucked into his face, tongue stiff as he flicked along your cunt sloppily.
You slapped a hand over your mouth, the knot in your stomach tightening, body convulsing with pleasure as he took in the sight of it. The way your torso moved with each buck of your hips, and your breasts. The tilt of your neck as you looked up trying not to look at him and the tight hold you had in his hair.
Without warning, you reached your climax all over Jungkook’s tongue. He eased your orgasm, licking softly before moving you off of him. As he did so his hands came down to your waist sliding you down with ease. He held you down to lay on top of him and without question your lips were on his again.
“So good,” he whispered against you, ready to take his trunks off once more, “I need you.”
“Mmh,” you said between kisses still not registering what he said until he was rolling you over under him so he could take them off. He kissed down your neck, “Condom?”
You nodded ready to reach out for one before your body froze. Jungkook, who still kissed and sucked on your neck blissfully, wasn’t paying attention. You tapped on his head to get him to look at you but he kept going, surely leaving live bites.
“I don’t have any.”
He stopped but didn’t pull away, “What?”
You sighed, “They’re in my room.”
He sighed as he pulled up but kept his body pressed against yours, “You’re lying.”
The situation made you laugh. Out of all times this could be happening to you. The first time you’re even attempting to get physical and after everything you've done tonight but you’re responsible.
He let his head fall onto your chest with a small groan. You sighed, “Sorry.”
Jungkook left a soft kiss on the mound of your breast, “Don’t be. Not like you knew this would happen, right?”
He definitely didn’t. Jungkook did not for one second even think about the possibility of kissing you this summer and definitely not as far as the two of you have gone tonight.
“Ugh,” you groaned as he hugged you, “If I go in and Sora wakes up, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“It’s okay,” he said, finally moving off you as he made himself comfortable next to you, still only in his trunks.
“Where’s my shirt?” You asked sitting up but he just pulled you back down grabbing one of the large throw blankets laying around and tossing it over you.
“Let’s just sleep right here,” he mumbled looking over to the door making sure he did lock it. He grabbed his shirt off the floor for you to put on and once you did, he let you cuddle into his side. He tried ignoring the sexual frustration that built up from not having sex with you but neither one of you were doing it without protection especially so soon.
“Everyone’s gonna think something is up,” you whispered as he let you use his bicep as a pillow.
He just shrugged.
“Who cares?”
𖠳 ᐝ
Jungkook was zoned out all morning the next day. No one’s said anything about the fact that the two of them didn’t return to their bedrooms last night but it’s very clear everyone has their suspicions just from the way they’ve been looking at you two. Of course they probably think the two of you made use of those condoms but they are gravely mistaken—almost but not yet. Soon though, he’s already made that promise to you both. When you get back to Seoul he’s gonna take you out and then everything will just fall into place, hopefully.
“What’s with the pigtails?” Jisoo — of all people — had the nerve to ask Jungkook.
“Why are you talking to me?” Jungkook asked, glaring at him as you fixed the end of one as the hair in the pony curled just under his pierced ear. Jisoo looked at you as if you’d stick up for him and that only annoyed Jungkook even more.
Jisoo seems to have forgotten that just yesterday he almost got into a fight with you both — even if it made you and Jungkook make up — it didn’t mean you liked the guy.
“Y/n,” Jisoo said, making Jungkook roll his eyes, “Can we talk?”
“No,” Jungkook said but you just placed a hand on his shoulder and handed him a mirror.
“I guess,” you said before looking at Jungkook, “Look at how good your hair looks. I’ll be right back.”
“Come get me if he tries anything,” Jungkook said as he held up the mirror checking himself out. The end of his growing mullet was in low pigtails but he still had wavy bangs curled around his ears and over his forehead. He looked ridiculous using his tattoo covered hands to clear his bangs out of his eyes.
“What?” You asked Jisoo, already sounding annoyed as he dragged you outside to the deck. You sat at the wooden table by the grill and waited for him to speak.
“I just wanted to apologize for yesterday,” Jisoo said honestly, “I was out of line and honestly if I knew you were with Jungkook I wouldn’t have said anything but I just don’t get why you two were hiding it.”
You laughed, like actually laughed, and it confused him even more. You stopped for a moment to look at him, “So you’re apologizing not because of what you said but because you didn’t realize I was with Jungkook? Which I wasn’t, let me just say.”
“No, that's not what I meant, I just… well you know, you weren’t giving anyone the time of day and I showed you I was interested. I guess I just wanted to annoy Jungkook because he seemed so territorial over you but I didn’t expect you to hear,” Jisoo said, scratching the back of his head nervously.
“Are you stupid?” You asked, “This isn’t an apology to me at all, and honestly if you can’t just apologize for the way you spoke about me then why even bother? You’re making excuses saying that I wouldn’t give you the time of day? Damn, Jisoo, I wonder why!”
Jungkook didn’t even hide the way he was glaring out the sliding glass doors. He can’t even hear what you’re saying and that just annoys him more. He’s just waiting for Jisoo to do something so that he has an excuse to go out there. If he tries anything then he picked the wrong day for that.
Jungkook is sexually frustrated, homesick, and annoyed with him still over last night.
“Oh my god! Jungkook! Your hair is so cute!” Jia and Mirae said when they made it through the door carrying takeout. Jungkook looked over at them seemingly unimpressed, “Thanks.”
You and Jisoo made it back inside after you made it incredibly clear that you don’t like that guy just in time to see Jia reach for the end of Jungkook’s pigtail.
“You look so cute, I’m not used to this cute side of yours. Did you do your hair like this?” Jia asked as Jungkook looked at you and Jisoo walk in.
“No, I did,” you muttered and Jungkook reached for Jia’s hand to push it away before coming over to where you were.
“Oh,” she said as he followed you up the stairs without a single glance back at them, “Well it’s really cute.”
“Take them out,” you said just as the two of you made it to the top floor. His brows furrowed in confusion, “What?”
You huffed as you began pulling his pigtails out, “I don’t want them looking at you like that.”
He laughed, “You feeling jealous already? We just made up yesterday.”
“So? Do you want me to go tell Jisoo he looks cute?”
“I’m taking them out,” he said, helping you, “The only person you can call cute is me.”
“Well don’t let other people touch your hair then—“ You cut yourself off as your eyes drifted to one of the bedroom doors.
Jimin and Hoseok didn’t even bother to act like they didn’t see the whole thing. Jimin smirked as he looked at you two then at Hoseok. He just laughed, “Looks like someone did get laid, and it sure as hell wasn’t me.”
“Ugh!” Jungkook groaned, “We didn’t—“
“Yeah sure bud,” Jimin said as the two walked past you and Jungkook, “Not what we heard last night.”
Your jaw dropped realizing that you might’ve been louder than expected. Jungkook just glared at them, “Want me to kill you?”
“How morbid!” Hobi gasped dramatically, “You’d think getting laid by the girl he’s been obsessing over would loosen the guy up.”
“We didn’t!” Jungkook yelled ready to trail after them but you just hugged him by the waist laughing.
“Let them think we did, who cares?”
Tumblr media
::.
whew okay this was a fave and don’t worry bc in part two? 🤭🤭oh yeah the fuck. and it’s gonna be city vibe relationship next so y’all better tune in.
personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile
summer bummer, baby taglist: @jjkreblog @wobblewonble822 @aloverga @lilyflowerguk @ssaltytears @lovelykookiee @hazzzelsdimension @minayas1998 @v-taeunofficial @angryblizzardtale @sunwooful @livjknj @4yjwonnn @screamertannie @jkoma @uarmyhore @eversincejimin n @withluvjm @exquisitely-tasteless @miracle2023 @ktownshizzle @generalchopshopgoatee @jksnumber1fan @sharkipoonis @laffatae @annabtsangels
3K notes · View notes
octuscle · 4 months ago
Text
Dr. Jekyll
Alexei had been working on this project for weeks. He had been very lucky to be doing a research semester in England when the special military operation began. He took a dim view of any form of war. He was a scientist, not a soldier. But somehow he wanted to play his part in putting the aggressor in his place. As a biochemist, he would not be able to develop weapons. But his plan was to develop a substance that could help increase resistance to injury. And increase the resilience of a wounded body. He was on the verge of a breakthrough. Yesterday he had first inflicted a small cut on himself and then swallowed his substance; today there was no sign of the wound. Not much was missing and he would be able to heal even more complex injuries.
Tumblr media
It was already dark. The last colleague had finally said goodbye. Alexei was alone. The last tests with his Laovor rats had been promising. This time he would not inflict a small cut on himself. This time he was going deeper, in the truest sense of the word. To be on the safe side, he had prepared disinfectant and bandages. He took a scalpel and pressed it against his forearm. He had trouble getting the ultra-sharp blade to penetrate his skin at all. There was a short glistening red mark. But it closed again after just a few seconds. No scar, nothing. It had worked! Damn it, it had worked. Alexei was not a person of great emotional reactions… But this, this went right through him. And it went down his pants. In the form of a boner. Fuck yes, his success made him horny. He couldn't help it, he had to jerk off. Here and now in the otherwise sterile laboratory. His otherwise not particularly impressive cock quickly grew to an impressive 20 centimeters. Alexei wanted to enjoy this orgasm, no, he wanted to celebrate it. He wanted…. FUUUUUUUUCK!
There was a huge mess on his lab bench. Test tubes, bacterial cultures, even his lab rats were splattered with an amount of cum that Alexei, as a scientist, would have thought impossible from a human life. And as a scientist, he only needed a few seconds to recover from the orgasm of his life. And he began to clean up the mess. He had amputated a leg from one of his lab rats, one of the first he had experimented with. The wound had closed on its own and quickly, a complete success. But now… Bloody hell! There was no leg missing. And the rat somehow looked… How should we put it…? It was a rat… But a magnificent animal! In a second cage, Alexei saw a rat slurping his cum with its tongue. And here, too, the holes in the gnawed ears closed up and the fur became thicker and shiny. Damn, his cum? A miracle weapon? There was plenty of the stuff left. But Alexei wanted to examine fresh sperm. And yes, he was still or already horny again. He took his cock out of his pants. A long thread of precum shimmered in the lab light. Alexei jerked off, a beaker ready to hand. Even now he didn't have to wait long… He felt it coming and he held the glass to his cock. And again: FUUUUUUUUCK! And another mess. The glass hadn't been able to hold his whole load.
The rat had licked his cum just like that and pure… He wouldn't be able to finish this beaker now. Especially as he wanted to examine a little cum too. But a sip like that…? Alexei was a little disgusted. But it was for science… He had no idea what cum was supposed to taste like. It was kind of interesting, yes… But he had lost a lot of time. He wasn't there yet He began to examine his sperm under the microscope. He didn't know much about human semen. Not his discipline… But this one seemed very agile… Even the one from the first load he had shot. He was getting warm. The lab coat felt tight. He took it off. The T-shirt was also uncomfortable. He was alone, who was going to mind if he worked bare-chested…
Tumblr media
Alexei began to work with his cum, fascinated. He chased it through filters and centrifuges, he extracted proteins, he produced new samples. And then he went all out, mixing his previous preparation with a portion of concentrated cum from his last orgasm. No spoon this time. This time a big gulp! Alexei used the scalpel again. First on his forearm. He had considerably more strength than the last time he tried. He managed to make a wound a few millimeters deep. But it healed immediately. It didn't take a second. Alexei started a next attempt. This time not on his arm, but on his free upper body. His chest muscles offered even more resistance than his arms, but here too he managed to produce a briefly bleeding wound. But this also healed in a fraction of a second. Alexei recorded the results in his lab diary. He checked the wound on his forearm again. It was visible. Not as a scar. But in the form of colorful lines. Tattoos were growing on his skin where he had applied the scalpel. And where he had cut his chest, hair was growing!
Shit, it had been over fifteen minutes since he'd jerked off. This time he went to the toilet, massaging the hard-on in his pants. He wouldn't squirt all over the lab bench again. If he was going to make a mess, at least it would be in an easy-to-clean environment. His cock pulsed with anticipation, it took just a few movements of his calloused hands to produce a magnificent hard-on. And it was clear that he was about to squirt all over the walls as well as the toilet bowl. And indeed: BAAAAAANG! He shot off load after load. He tried to catch some of it with his hands in front of the glans. Shit, it got harder with every orgasm. Alexei licked his hands. It tasted so great. Milky pure manhood. He tried to tuck his cock back into his pants. That was harder than he thought. Alexei tried to wipe away some of the mess on the floor with a paper towel. His ass cheeks burst through his pants. And shortly afterwards, the seam on his thighs tore.
Alexei knew that there were a few amateur bodybuilders among the janitors. Maybe he could find something that suited him in their changing rooms. It wasn't really his style to rummage through sacks of dirty clothes. But what could he do? And sure enough, he found a pair of jeans that seemed to fit. A little too wide at the waist. But wide enough on his muscular thighs. He had to do something now. Right: log the latest events in the lab diary. He couldn't remember his cursed password from the notebook. So he took pen and paper.
Tumblr media
“And then I'm like jerking my shlong, dude. And then I'm like totally busting a nut. And everything's dripping with my jizz. And I'm licking my fingers, 'cause they're covered in cum. And suddenly, my pants rip, bro. 'Cause, dude, my booty is in absolute competition shape like you wouldn't believe.” What else could he write? For fuck's sake, did this horniness never stop? His tattoos were impressive by now. So was the fur on his chest. Alexei scratched his beard. And shortly afterwards, his sack again. Something was strange here, something was wrong. And he didn't just mean those damn pants, which were too tight around the thighs and too wide at the hips. His crotch was wet from the precum dripping from his mighty boner. He had to get out of here. This air-conditioned air was taking his breath away. As soon as he was out of the lab, he took off his pants. Shit, he was naked, but he was probably alone in the building. There was a locker open in the scientific staff changing room. A racing bike outfit. The matching racing bike was leaning against the wall. Was there someone else here after all? He should have noticed that. He thought for a second about whether he should try putting on the cycling shorts. But they were obviously made for a slim man. And not for a giant 190 cm tall.
Alexei walked down the corridor towards the rooms for the technical staff. He was in the low-security area, where an iris check was enough to open the doors. He arrived in the changing room for the janitors and technicians. Had he been here before today? He couldn't remember… In any case, he found a jockstrap, socks and, above all, a boiler suit in the dirty laundry. It all fitted reasonably well. One of his colleagues also seemed to be in good shape. On the shelf of work boots, he found a pair in size 48 - thank God! The sun was rising, soon the place would be swarming with employees again like an anthill. He didn't want to be naked.
Tumblr media
Alex had the feeling he had forgotten something in the lab wing. But he couldn't get back in there. An iris check wouldn't be enough. He needed his ID, which was in the pants he had taken off. He thought as best he could. What could he have forgotten in the lab wing? What would he be doing in the lab wing anyway? Beads of sweat glistened in his chest hair. He smelled under his armpits: sweat and musk. His cock was in someone's jockstrap, surrounded by cum-encrusted pubic hair. If anyone didn't fit into the clean air zones, it was a man like him. And anyway, this biology and chemistry shit wasn't for him. Blocked pipes and maybe a leaky roof: that was his world. But not today. The night shift had been exhausting. Now it was closing time. Maybe to the gym first. But then he was looking forward to a round of wanking and then his bed.
Dedicated to @guytransformedforever; Pics by @ki-kink
214 notes · View notes
ghcstao3 · 5 months ago
Text
(part 2) (cw fictional drugs, mild body horror, mild torture)
Shifters should be born, not made. That’s one of few things that science has been able to say for certain about the biology (and ethics) of the species.
Of course, this never stopped those truly motivated—for a few years now, there’s been a serum circulating black markets and cartels and terrorist rings, a dangerous, potent thing that allows for the temporary rewrite of human DNA; for just a handful of hours, this serum allows any non-shifter to gain a shifter’s abilities, often with the goal of making them stronger, deadlier when it comes to picking off their enemies.
Obviously, this serum comes with a few cons: a human cannot determine what animal a serum will give them until it is taken, and because its effects are only temporary, the substance becomes highly addictive. One taste is never enough—but after so many continuous uses, the drug’s effects change into something far more sinister. Potentially fatal; one might lose their mind if they’re lucky, or become some deformed half-thing stuck between human and animal if they’re not.
There’s a reason, scientists will say, that sometimes genetics, DNA is not to be tampered with to such extreme lengths.
But with this serum comes a rumour: somewhere out there exists a more permanent solution, a serum to completely change someone, to make a shifter. Something so strong that it can transform a person, though at a high risk of something going wrong.
This serum does exist, and certainly does hold a risk of things going wrong—the survival rate within days of injection is a measly 5%. The human body is not built to withstand the force of fundamental change, though some prevail; unfortunately, however, often enough they don’t survive long enough afterwards to meet the full potential of their new abilities.
And not necessarily because of the change itself—but rather because the people creating these abnormalities will often decide to erase their existences, once past their use and novelty. If this new creature cannot be leashed, there’s no point in keeping it, no point in allowing it to go free and revel in its newfound talents.
When Simon Riley doesn’t break the way Manuel Roba wants him to, he becomes a victim of this serum. He’s informed, in spite of his torture-induced delirium, that this injection will put him down one way or another—be it through the pain, the incompatibility with his body, or through his expired usefulness after Roba has beaten him into submission in whatever form Simon is blessed with.
The serum feels like hot, molten, infernal flame has been injected directly into Simon’s veins, searing his body from the inside out. The first wave of pain arrives in a flash, has him writhing on the ground as his muscles lock up and he’s gasping for breath to fill lungs already burned to ash. Throat closing up, bones grinding together, the ripping of flesh. He can’t scream. Can’t claw at himself until he’s bloody and raw and dead.
It just goes on.
Roba’s laughter rings through the cold, impersonal laboratory, four cement walls and a cracked floor, the reeking, cloying scent of mildew and rust and failed experiments—it’s all that Simon’s world has narrowed down to until he blacks out in his anguish.
When he wakes, everything is wrong.
Simon’s more than disoriented, though that’s hardly a surprise. But beyond that, beyond the usual aches and sores and bruises—the red of the bloodstained floor is dull, too dull, and his limbs don’t feel like his own. His brain is a fog, simultaneously exhausted and alert, and his tongue sits heavy in his mouth—Simon rolls over, sluggish, his tongue sliding languidly with gravity, picking over teeth sharper than he remembers them being.
The bars of his cell rumble open, the rattle reverberating through Simon’s body.
Wrong. All wrong, wrong, wrong.
It takes effort to lift his gaze, to meet Roba’s own where he stands in the doorway. Simon’s eyelids droop, weighed down by nothing he can discern, and all he can make out through the slits of leftover vision is that smarmy grin and those beady, oil-black eyes.
Roba grins wider when Simon stirs, shifting stiff muscles in a fool’s errand of attempting to sit up.
“I knew you would survive, English,” he says. Simon’s ear twitches. “Welcome to the first day of your new life.”
Roba’s footsteps are loud, grating in their approach. He crouches in front of Simon’s prone form, regarding him in a way Simon has been plenty subject to—always displeased in some capacity, sometimes for known reasons and sometimes not, but also plotting, envisioning the next methods he might use to drill obedience into the soldier, to rearrange his anatomy, to fuck irreparably with his head.
With a sigh Roba reaches into his breast pocket to fish something out, some antique compact with engravings on the lid that Simon is in no state to decipher. He opens it with a muted click, then holds it in front of Simon’s face with something akin to a sick glee woven into his expression.
What stares back at Simon is not human.
254 notes · View notes
cherri-tomato · 3 months ago
Text
Venomous.
Chapter 1: The Laboratory
Pairing: SpiderMan x fem!venom!reader
Chapter Summary: y/n visits an abandoned lab to find some good photos for a class assignment but finds herself in over her head when she comes face-to-face with a creature calling itself venom.
Chapter content: Near death experience, descriptions of injuries, angst, potential body horror (its venom soo), brief mention of animal death, brief mention of vomiting (non-graphic), mention of assault (not to reader)
Series masterlist
Next>
Tumblr media
The old Oscorp laboratory that sits on the outskirts of New York wasn't exactly the place most college students expected to spend their Friday night. Even y/n, who usually spent her time alone or developing old photos in her university's old darkroom instead of hanging out with nonexistent friends, didn't make a habit of visiting dilapidated buildings alone with only a camera and a flashlight. 
The lab was in the middle of the forest, surrounded by a rusting chain link fence—a ‘CAUTION! ELECTRIC FENCE!’ The sign was on the ground beside said fence, having long since fallen off. Normally this would have made y/n turn around and try to find a less dangerous place to take pictures for her photography class, but it just so happened that a large, y/n sized hole had at somepoint been cut into the fence, leaving the perfect entrance for curious (and borderline suicidal) university students to slip through with relative ease. 
The laboratories walls were covered in vines, the plants wrapping themselves around anything their tendrils came into contact with. The door to the lab was gone, leaving just a gaping hole as an entrance, and y/n entered easily, snapping a few pictures of the outside as she did. The inside was, much like the outside, a complete mess. The walls, once a pristine and clinical white, now a dirty, greenish-gray, with splatters of what y/n could only hope was just some random chemical and not blood. Blue double doors lined the hall, a small rectangular window on each one. After opening a few doors and taking some photos of the old science equipment, she finally found herself standing in front of the last door at the end of the hallway. Through the small windows she could see it was a stairwell, and pushed the door open, entering the well and taking some pictures of the eerie stairs leading into the complete darkness of the second floor. 
Pointing her flashlight up the stairs, she began to climb. She stopped at the second level door which was marked with a large ‘2’, and gave the handle a rough shove to push the door open. The hallway itself was much the same as on the first floor, though it was certainly worse for ware. The walls were covered in an oozing black, ink-like substance, and a couple doors were completely gone. y/n took a step back, only managing to snap one or two pictures of the bizarre scene before she felt something under her begin to shift. The floor below her made an awful cracking sound and some debris crumbled from the ceiling above her. She took a shuttered breath and was about to turn and run when the ceiling suddenly gave out, and everything went dark.
A heavy pressure was the first thing she felt. Then, an excruciating pain shot through her entire body. She tried to scream, but the ruble covering—or rather, crushing—her made any noise impossible. All but her head was trapped. Above her, she could see the hole she had fallen through just barely in the dim light and dust filled air. She coughed, and felt the pressure compress her chest. She wondered, in a hazy and distinctly concussed way, if she was going to die here. Alone, crushed by the heavy cement ceiling of an abandoned building she was never meant to be in. Tears welled in her eyes, and she let them close for a moment before she felt something drip onto her face. ‘Blood?’ she wondered. Her eyes fell on the hole she'd fallen through to see that the inky black stuff was dripping down from the floor above and landing directly on her face.
If she could move, or even feel, her arms, she would have immediately tried to wipe the strange goo off her cheek, but she was immobilized and could only watch in disgust as the black sludge dripped onto her. Then, she felt the inky stuff move. And she froze. The slime wriggled against her skin and she could only hope it wasn't some sort of poison as she felt the thing be absorbed into her skin. 
Something changed at that moment. Y/n couldn’t tell what, but something did. She felt her arms twitch, and then her legs—which she was certain were completely broken—seemed to snap back together. She cried out in pain as her body's bones corrected themselves, her scraped skin gluing itself back together before she felt the same black sludge engulf her entire body.
Something was definitely wrong with her. That's the first thought that passed through y/n's mind when she felt herself standing, the rubble that was crushing her now light, and her body, which had previously been torn apart by the fall and subsequent cruising of all her bones, now felt strong, mended and somehow improved. She moved, though she felt as though it was both not her own movements and completely of her own volition. She lifted her hand and- oh. Yes, something was in fact very, very wrong with y/n. Her own hand was gone—or rather, covered by a longer and, well, sharper one. Her skin was instead a black inky mass of sorts—the inky sludge that had covered her no doubt—and her fingers were longer and clawed. She looked down at herself and was met with the same sight. An inky black mass was now replacing her once distinctly human form.
She must’ve passed out then, because when she finally came to, she was once again in the forest, laying on her back and staring up at the stars. She lifted her hand, which was shaky and scratched, but no longer broken or made of slime, so she supposed that was an improvement. 
“It's about time you woke up.” 
A voice said, and she sat up, looking around frantically for whatever had spoken, but found only forest. She tugged at her sleeve nervously. “Jesus, I must be losing it..” she muttered, trying to steady her rapid heart beat. 
“Think again, kid,” the voice spoke again, this time accompanied by a…head? It seemed to be emerging from her back. She turned, but there was no one behind her. That was, apart from the head, now grinning. Its mouth, which was put on full display thanks to that damned smile, was large and full of sharp teeth. its eyes were white and angular, staring into her very soul. 
“W-what…” She could feel herself break out in a cold sweat, goosebumps covering her skin. “What the fuck are you…?” She asked, because what else could she even say? 
“We are Venom.” it said, and her brow furrowed. 
“We?”
“You and I, kid. We are Venom. And we are hungry.”
She shook her head, forcing herself onto her feet. “For what? People!?” She stared at the head. 
“You learn quickly.” it—Venom—replied, and y/n’s heart dropped to her feet. 
“No. Absolutely not.” She took a step back, but Venom, of course, wasn’t exactly going anywhere. “I'm not doing any of this little shop of horrors bullshit!” She was practically screaming at this point. ‘this whole thing is crazy!’
“You owe me, kid. I saved your skin; now it's your turn.” Venom said, its grin growing impossibly larger. 
“I-i never asked for your help! I didn't even know you were…alive.” She shuddered at the memory of the inky slime covering her.
“Come on, y/n. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.” 
she froze, her blood running cold. “H-how do you know my name…?” She asked, and Venom made a noise that was probably supposed to be a laugh.
“Oh, I know everything about you, y/n l/n. I'm inside your head.” She flinched as venom leaned closer, its black tendrils brushing against her skin. “I know you want power. You want to be seen. I can give that to you.” 
she shook her head. “No, no! You’re… you‘re not real…” 
She turned and began to walk, ignoring the voice that continued to speak.
“Come on, kid. I know you want to.” 
“Shut up! You don't know anything about me!” She forced herself to walk faster, stepping over logs and roots as she finally made her way out of the forest and onto a street. “This is fucking insane. I’m losing my god damn mind…” She muttered to herself, walking down the sidewalk. She didn’t recognize the part of town she was in, but that was the last thing on her mind. She must've been walking aimlessly for quite a while, because when she stopped, she realized she was in the middle of the sidewalk in an area of town where a young woman definitely wouldn't want to be alone at such an hour. 
“Don't be scared kid, you have us now.” 
She startles, glancing around to try and spot the head of Venom, but not seeing any sign of it. “God, don't do that shit!” She hissed, rubbing the nape of her neck as though to remove Venom from her all together. 
She moved to start walking again when a noise stopped her dead in her tracks. It definitely sounded like a cry of some kind. She looked around, and wrapped her arms around herself nervously. Y/n slowly walked forward, not making it very far before she heard the noise again, and turned to stare into an alley. 
She narrowed her eyes; somewhere in the darkness she can see the form of two people, one cowering on the ground and the other standing menacingly over them. She bristled. ‘A mugging?’ That was probably the best case scenario all things considered.
“We could help.” venom said, its tendrils curling around her arm. “You want to. Just give me control.” 
She took a sharp breath. She could save them, but would the cost be worth it?
She didn’t get to finish thinking, because the looming figure pounced causing the person on the ground to shriek, and then something inside her snapped and she became Venom.
The fight, if you could even call it that, didn't last long. Venom wasn't lying when it said it was hungry, and the assailant was no match for its jaws. The person huddled on the ground—a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties—had run the second the person attacking her was distracted. Good. 
Y/n tried not to think about what just happened, even as venom retreated back into her and she ran from the alley, not stopping until she was standing in front of her dorm building. She unlocked  the door, stepping inside and letting out a sigh of relief as she collapsed onto her creaky bed, burying her face in her pillow, and then promptly getting back up to go vomit in her toilet.
Venom was quiet for a while, and she hoped it was because it knew she needed time, but maybe it was just digesting. She didn't sleep much that night.
────────────
Spider Man landed on a roof near the alley he had heard the screams from. It was quiet now, but he knew that wasn't necessarily a good sign. He dropped into the alley, looking around for any signs of someone in danger, and froze. A puddle of blood, some black, inky looking substance, and a woman's purse were the only things in the alley. He picked up the bag and cracked it open, retrieving a wallet and then an ID. He looked around—whoever left the blood was gone, but they obviously weren't looking to rob anyone, considering the wad of cash still in the woman's purse. He was about to investigate further when he heard sirens and carefully placed the purse down; they would have an easier time returning this to its owner after all. He swung out of the alleyway, still unsure what exactly went down in the small amount of time it had taken him to get to the scene.
────────────
Venomous. Taglist
Send an ask to join the series taglist
101 notes · View notes
skele-ghost · 1 year ago
Text
Fuck in the Graveyard (not really)
Summary: (Graves/Reader) You’ve been taking illegal suppressants for wayyy too long, and when you miss a dose, it all comes crashing down.
Content Warning: A/B/O Omegaverse dynamics, reader is afab, female pronouns?, substance abuse, technically is a fuck or die situation, p in v, knotting, brief fingering
Graves is kinda sweet in this one. I’ve never posted my stuff anywhere before and this is the first fic I’ve written in second person. Let me know what y’all think. I do not take requests.
(*˘︶˘*).。.:*♡
The thing about taking illegal suppressants is that you have to time them perfectly. You’d better have your cycle down to a science, and you’d better take them three days before your heat, during, and three days after—and don’t you dare take them any more than 24 hours apart.
That’s how you wound up completely fucked: you took one dose two hours too late, and now the suppressants were completely ineffective. Was it really your fault? No, you’d been in the middle of a firefight, for fucks sake! But by some sick case of luck and science that made next to no sense, your heat started to build.
You hid being an Omega as much as you could. It wasn’t exactly a secret—it was there in your file for anyone to see. But so long as your heats were taken care of and you weren’t sending every Alpha within a mile radius into a rut, the military was happy.
And you were happy to let them believe that you were taking the regular course of suppressants that they prescribed you, and not the dangerous, high-dose, illegal ones that you preferred. They made your scent next to undetectable and made sure you could actually think straight when you were suppressing your heat, unlike the regular ones.
You were a specialist, an asset of high importance, and you’d be damned if you’d let your own biology stand in the way of that.
That’s why you liked the Shadows. Graves sent you a job offer after working with you on a mission gone sour in Urzikstan. He admired the way you kept your head cool when the world was falling apart around you. Even when you disclosed your designation, he shrugged it off.
“As long as you can keep your head cool like you did out there, we won’t have any problems,” he’d said.
And you’d kept your promise for nearly two years, now. But that was a long time to go without a heat, and a long time to be surrounded by the heady scent of Alpha unclaimed.
You were ashamed of the way you had to take off earlier. Once everyone was back from the mission, in one piece, settled in, you bolted, feeling the heat and sweat cling to you like a second skin.
It was sheer resolve that allowed you to keep the scent patches on for so long, little bandages clamped over your glands with a strong deodorizer, not letting anything out. You nearly passed out from the intense pain of prying them off your neck and wrists, the scent glands over-sensitive to even a breeze.
You blink away the tears quickly; you have to stay focused. You’ll drive to the safe house and crash there, get something planned. You knew the consequences of completely suppressing your heat for so long with such toxic drugs. Now you had to live with the consequences.
The little white farmhouse is remote, nestled deep in an old growth wood. It was beautiful, living up to the pictures you’d seen when Graves had shown it to you as a precaution. It had been in his family for generations before he fixed it up and decided to turn it into a safe house.
You pant as you put the car in park, staring at the building for a moment, your thoughts jumbled and disconjointed. As much as you want to melt into the seat, you have to get inside. A cold shower—that’s what you promise yourself, meek little motivation.
It manages to pull you out of the truck, onto shaky legs that want to collapse underneath you, but you push on.
They key is behind a brick on the foundation beneath the porch. It takes you a moment to remember which one—Graves had only shown you once.
Since you are the only unclaimed omega in the Shadows, he told you where the house was and how to access it. Just in case you had, in his words, “omega-related problems.” It isn’t too far from base. You’d have to figure out some way to show your eternal gratitude for the man…if you ever saw him again.
You retrieve the key and turn to make your way up the stairs, and that’s when things go sideways. You trip on the last step, crashing onto the porch with a force that shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.
The key falling out of your hand is the last coherent thought that you have before the pain takes over. Your sensitive skin and muscles cry out and it feels like hitting a sore bruise, everywhere.
You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare up at the watery image of the porch’s ceiling. There’s a wasp’s nest, gross, but it’s November. They’re either sleeping or dead from the cold.
And thank god it’s cold, because at least your skin doesn’t feel like it’s completely on fire.
You know this is bad. You’ve deteriorated too quickly, the heat sneaking up and hitting you like a blitz attack from the dark.
As much as you hate to admit it, heats are necessary. It gets rid of built-up chemicals in the brain, provides a release to make new ones. Not quite like sleep was necessary, but in a similar fashion.
You’re worried that this one might kill you. You’re worried that if this one isn’t quelled and satisfied, you might end up brain-dead or in an eternal coma like the people in those stories your middle school health class scared you with.
But in the face of death? All that you wish is that you could apologize for the inconvenience. What kind of paperwork would Graves have to fill out for your corpse? Would he get in trouble for not monitoring you, for not knowing about your use of the illegal suppressants?
You slip into unconsciousness, the word ‘sorry’ on the tip of your tongue.
-
A whimper is all you manage as you stir awake, the first thing you notice being the thick, heavy, intoxicating scent of an Alpha, and one you know.
Graves smells like bonfires and bourbon, or maybe it’s whiskey? You make a breathy moan at the smell, brows furrowing as you feel yourself being carried.
“I know, baby, I know,” he says, his voice making a nice rumble trail down your spine.
He’s holding you bridal style and then holds you close to him as he sits down, tucking your head into his neck so that you can scent him.
It cools the flames slightly, letting your mind clear itself of the fog as you finally stir, opening your eyes.
“Com-mander?” You ask, voice not much louder than a whisper.
He pulls you back, glancing down at you, his blue eyes filled with concern. “(Y/N), what’s going on? You don’t smell right, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“Suppressants…not working,” you grit out, whimpering as an uncomfortable cramp begins in your gut.
“The ones you’ve been taking? Why, what’s wrong with them?” He lays you down on the bed he’d been sitting on and you whine at the loss of contact, squinting your eyes shut at the cramping.
You can hear him search through your bag, the one that had been digging painfully into your back a few minutes ago, and you hear the rattle of a pill bottle.
“Oh, (Y/N), you didn’t…” he says, and you can only imagine what his expression is as he looks at the bottle. It’s pretty damning—the prescription bottle with someone else’s name blacked out on it, half empty, label reading exactly what’s inside.
Graves returns to your side, his cool hand on your cheek turning you to look up at him. He looks…betrayed? Crestfallen? Worried, above all else, as he holds the bottle up with one hand.
“(Y/N), tell me you didn’t take these—tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he demands, the command in his tone making a gush of slick escape you, adding to your already soaked panties.
“M’ sorry,” you whisper, tears blurring up along your waterline.
“Shit, (Y/N),” he growls, tossing the pills onto the bed, running his hands through his hair. “What do I do? You need to go to a hospital, is that it?”
You shake your head, “no, they can’t do anything. And I’d get arrested—ah!” You cry out, curling inwards as a sharp, painful cramp rolls through. Slick gushes out of you again, your organs overproducing as if they need to make up for all the missed heats. After a few agonizing moments it calms down and leaves you gasping, tears rolling down your cheeks.
You know what your options are, you know how fucked up this is, and you know that Graves is probably going to fire you after this—but you also know that you’re not ready for the final alternative.
“Please, it hurts!” You beg, pleading up at the sight of your commander above you, “please, Alpha.”
He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, pursing his lips in that way you’ve always found so hot, “are you sure? You’re not thinking clearly, (Y/N).”
You nod frantically, grabbing his arm and scenting his wrist, keening at the smell, “please, please, Graves.”
His restraint snaps and he climbs ontop of you, pinning your wrists to the bed and placing his mouth on yours. You moan into it, trying to lift you hips up to get some kind of friction to no avail.
He pulls away and you tilt you head aside to give him better access to your neck as he scents you, breathing in deeply and growling. You cry out as he runs his tongue and teeth along the glands.
“I never got a good smell of you, (Y/N), you always wear those damn patches and I always want to rip them off,” he nibbles along your jaw, your whines and whimpers filling the small bedroom.
“Alpha, please,” you beg, desperate, clenching around nothing when you want to be clenching around him. “Inside, please put it inside.”
“I know, baby,” he says, pecking your lips again before he pulls back, hands gliding along your sides as he pulls your shirt off. “You’re burning up.”
Tears prick in the corners of your eyes and you squirm, whining and babbling as he pulls your bra off, too. The cooler air feels nice on your sweat-sheen skin, and you buck your hips as Graves gets off of you, hooking his fingers to pull your pants and panties down in one fell swoop.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, then groans at the sight of your slick, how it clings to your parties in wet strings before he pulls them away.
Your boots are still on and he didn’t get your pants all the way off, but maybe seeing how soaked you are makes Graves hasty.
The most pornographic moan escapes you as he sinks two fingers in your hole, your sweet little cunt sucking them in and clenching down.
“Fuck, good Omega,” Graves groans, slipping in a third finger that has you moaning even louder.
Every spot he hits is the right one, every move pure ecstasy. Your voice is a broken babble of pleads and curses and moans, begging for your commander to fuck you, to take you, to make you his.
You almost sob when he retracts his fingers, not even caring to wipe them as he rolls you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling them up into the air, right against his own.
Feeling his erection against your ass, you turn downright frantic, “please please please, please fuck me, Alpha, please I need your knot so bad!”
He hisses as you rub against him and he begins unbuckling his belt, which only spurs you on more. He manages to still your hips and get his pants down, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick.
You keen embarrassingly loud as he enters you, slowly letting every inch of himself be swallowed up by your greedy cunt.
When he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, it’s like a switch flips. You cum, whining as your legs shake, as Graves gasps behind you.
“Goddamn, baby,” he drawls, squeezing into the meat of your hips. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”
Your brain is too melted with lust to be able to form any coherent sentence. When he pulls out and slowly thrusts back into you, testing the waters, you all but go limp, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moan.
“Goooood girl,” he praises, speeding up his thrusts and finding a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together. “So slick and tight for me, omega, good god—“
All you can do is moan and take it. There’s no more painful cramping, and though your skin is still hot it’s not as bad. Your body is getting exactly what it needs: a good, hard fucking by a big, strong Alpha.
“(Y/N),” Graves moans, his voice sounding so sweet to your ears, “so good, baby. Better than I ever imagined.”
You keen at that, at your alpha wanting you—well, he isn’t yours, is he? It makes your heart sting slightly but that’s quickly forgotten with a slap to your ass, sending shockwaves of excitement through you.
You can feel yourself getting tighter, getting ready to be thrown over the edge again, and you can feel Graves speed up his thrusts, his knot slowly beginning to swell inside you.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “gonna give you my knot, gonna fill you up good—“
His thrusts get even harder, even rougher, and you cry out, feeling yourself come tumbling violently over the edge as his knot catches on you, cumming in waves like the sea crashes onto shore.
Graves stills inside you, making good on his promise, shooting ropes and ropes of hot seed. You can feel his swollen knot inside you, just past your entrance, making your pussy full in the most delicious way. You hear him catch his breath before he carefully rolls you both over onto your sides, laying down with you on the bed.
You hum happily as he wraps his arms around you, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder as both of your ragged breathing calms.
“Fuck, (Y/N),” he says, his voice husky in a way that makes you wish you were his.
“Yeah,” you manage to reply, running your hands along the arms that hold you.
“I don’t want you taking those damn pills ever again,” he growls, making you shiver. “Understand?”
You open your eyes and turn to look at him, confused at the soft expression on his face. It’s almost…vulnerable? Wasn’t he going to fire you?
“Commander?”
“This isn’t up for debate,” he says. Behind his blue eyes is a fire you know well, akin to the one that dances in his eyes on the battlefield. “I’ll drug test you if I have to, but I’m not going to lose you to some stupid suppressants.”
You blink. “You’re not going to fire me?”
“What? No,” he says like you’re crazy for thinking so. “But if you want to stay, darlin,’ we’re going to need to set some ground rules.”
“Okay,” you agree, relieved. You didn’t want to lose your job, it’s a good gig. The employee benefits are killer…and you’d miss your commander.
“It’s simple, (Y/N), no more illegal suppressants, and you come to me for your heats,” that bastard smirk of his returns and you giggle.
“Are you propositioning me, Commander?”
“Hell, yes I am,” he says proudly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Probably should’ve done it sooner.”
You lean in and kiss him, enjoying how it sweetens his scent. Your heart flutters in place, content, elated; you had only ever dreamed of this. You finally have him.
“Oh, and no more scent patches. You smell too damn good to be covered up.”
You roll your eyes at him, still grinning. “You sure about that? I don’t think you’ll like every other alpha sniffing after me.”
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll keep you safe,” he says confidently, placing a lingering kiss to your cheek. His eyes hint at something darker, “besides… they’ll catch on.”
764 notes · View notes
mikavlcs · 2 years ago
Text
Rebels and Renegades
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader
Summary: Becoming best friends with a sentient hand brings many much-needed changes to your life, the biggest being the very girl he arrived at Nevermore with.
Warnings: this is so stupid, reader is incredibly unserious, many attempts at comedy, TERRIBLE pacing, bad writing, cursing, this doesn’t correlate properly with the timeline of the show but idc
Word count: 6.6k (sorry, this got very out of hand...get it?)
Notes: this is trash but it’s fun so who cares. this is entirely for @clexa-is-forever aka thing’s biggest fan. despite my writer’s block, i still had fun writing this. hope you enjoy!
Masterlist
Tumblr media
If someone told you at the beginning of the school year that your best friend would be a sentient disembodied limb, you would’ve laughed in their face.
Not because you thought it would be too ridiculous or nonsensical, but because in your mind, it was far too interesting for what Nevermore Academy had to offer.
See, you were initially excited to transfer to Nevermore. To get away from the shallow depths of normie public school and be around people like you. But alas, it was too good to be true—or, maybe, you had gotten your hopes up too high.
Because it turned out that fantastical mythical creatures like vampires, werewolves, and sirens actually weren’t too dissimilar from their normie counterparts. They didn’t care about excitement or adventure or fun, they cared about partying and drinking and dating.
This duality created an atmosphere of contradictions. There were people with literal snakes for hair but also those stupid cliques of popular kids that liked to pick on people for no reason. Werewolves transformed into energetic beasts and prowled the woods together every full moon, but students’ biggest concerns were whom they were gonna ask to the school dance.
It was all strange and supernatural yet shockingly normal. And extraordinarily boring.
The disappointment you felt upon this discovery was immeasurable. It appeared that no matter how far you ran, you could never escape the clutches of adolescent desires and drama.
But there was nowhere else for you to go. This was it, your parents told you that definitively. So you resigned yourself to your fate and settled into life at Nevermore.
Months passed at a snail’s pace. Around the middle of the semester, a new student transferred in. Because nothing of substance happens, she was the talk of the town for a solid two weeks before her scheduled arrival, but you didn’t care.
You would admit that after finally seeing her, your interest was piqued. She certainly fit the murderer vibe. With her pallid complexation and dark eyes, she looked straight out of a black & white horror film, even complete with a black uniform instead of the standard purple (which you were so jealous of).
Temptation pulled at your chest whenever you saw her, but you decided to leave her alone. This school had disappointed you enough, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to handle even more. The decision to keep your distance was made and instead, you let your imagination run wild without the probable barriers of reality to inhibit it. 
Little did you know that only one day after the new girl transferred in, she inadvertently changed the course of your life at Nevermore forever. 
Advanced Gorgon Sciences, your last class of the day, had just ended and you were wandering campus wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You were contemplating going into Jericho when something smacked your cheek.
Pausing, you glanced down and found the offending object to be a small pebble. You followed its rough trajectory up to a ledge on your left and saw something scurrying across it. Against, your nonexistent better judgment, you moved closer and…
You blinked once, then twice, narrowed your eyes.
It was a hand—literally just a hand, cut off at the wrist but still scuttling and scurrying around with no problem.
So, you were definitely losing your mind. Honestly, it was about damn time.
Having nothing better to do, you decided to lean into the madness and approach the hand. At the sound of your footsteps, it turned and…looked at you? You weren’t sure, but it acknowledged your presence with a friendly wave.
You waved back, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as you hoisted yourself up to sit on the ledge.
Once you were up, you saw that the hand was fiddling with a makeshift slingshot, struggling to simultaneously keep it upright while loading and aiming it. His plight was fairly obvious and considering his circumstance, you couldn’t help but feel for him.
Abandoning the slingshot, the hand crawled over to you and started tapping insistently. It took much more brain power than it ought to for you to realize that he was trying to speak to you.
“Sorry, I don’t understand…that,” you apologized with a grimace. But an idea came to mind a moment later. “Can you write?”
The hand gave you a thumbs up. You dug around your backpack and pulled out a notebook along with a pen, flipping it open to an empty page and slid it over, setting the pen down on top. He picked up the pen and got to work, pushing the notebook back toward you a minute later.
Curious, you looked at the messy scrawl below.
Sorry, was aiming for the guy behind you.
You nodded understandingly. “It’s fine. Could I ask why you’re launching pebbles at students?”
You waited once more as he scribbled his answer and peered down when he pushed the paper over.
For fun.
Again, you nodded. You could respect that.
“Well, do you mind if I join you?” you asked, nodding toward the slingshot. “I’d imagine it would be a lot easier to aim with an extra pair of hands. And the accompanying body,” you added awkwardly at the end, hoping it wouldn’t offend the little guy.
Thankfully it didn’t. He gave you an excited thumbs up, scuttling back over to the slingshot while you scooted over. While he loaded another pebble into the pouch, you scanned the area below for your next victim.
Your eye snagged on a vampire for no real reason other than the fact that he just kinda looked like an asshole.
You pointed to him below. “How about him?”
Thing gave you another thumbs up. Nodding, you held the slingshot in place while Thing drew the pebble back and let it fly.
The shriek that came from your victim almost made you blow your cover. You grabbed Thing and hurriedly crawled back to where you were both out of sight, barely containing your giggles. Once the coast was clear, you cracked, pitching forward with your laughter as Thing drummed his fingers against your arm in what you assumed was amusement.
“That was amazing!” You looked down at him, smirked. “Wanna do another one?”
He tapped your hand enthusiastically, making your smile widen.
Thus was the beginning of an amazing friendship. Well, amazing for you and Thing—not for the rest of Nevermore.
The two of you were a match made in hell. Together you brainstormed a plethora of good pranks to pull on unsuspecting students and teachers.
Putting spiders (fake or otherwise) in students’ lockers. Setting glitter traps on top of classroom doors so whichever unlucky soul walks through first gets showered in glitter. Slipping mentos into people’s sodas. Setting trip wires to watch people faceplant around campus and many more.
It was glorious. Your own personal reign of terror, even.
Principal Weems had her suspicions, but no matter how many times she tried to catch you in the act, you slipped through her fingers. And without proof, her hands were tied. So you and your companion were free to keep enjoying your schemes so long as you were discreet.
For the first time since you enrolled, days passed by in what felt like minutes, the personification of the saying time flies when you’re having fun.
Through it all, you often wondered where the little guy was when he wasn’t with you. You hoped that he wasn’t causing too much mischief without you. He was your partner in crime, after all.
Two weeks in, you decided to ask him at breakfast.
The two of you were at your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. You were ranting about an upcoming Lycanthrope History test while Thing was launching the grapes you gave him to play with at nearby tables. After your rant, you finally gave in to your curiosity.
“So, what exactly are you doing at Nevermore? I know this place houses some strange students but, something tells me you’re not here to learn.”
He flicked a grape with precise aim, nailing a gorgon right on the forehead before giving you a series of taps. Your face scrunched in confusion.
“Babysitting? Babysitting who?”
Nothing could have prepared you for his answer.
“Wednesday Addams?!”
Your voice came out much louder than intended, turning a few heads around the cafeteria and making Thing jump. You didn’t care, plowing forward in your questioning.
“You’re ‘babysitting’ the school’s homicidal maniac?”
His stance straightened, his nonverbal tone somehow indignant as he corrected you.
You gave him a pointed look. “Attempted homicide isn’t much better, buddy.”
He seemed to contemplate flicking another grape, but seeing Miss Thornhill looking around, he chose not to. Instead, he drummed his fingers inquisitively at you, teasingly waggling his fingers at the end. You gave him another sharp look, insulted by his implication.
“Scared? What, no! This is amazing news,” you exclaimed. Then, an idea arose. “Hey, do you think she’d let us borrow any of her stuff for pranks?”
Thing mournfully shook his wrist. You let out a deep sigh, slumping over again. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve expected that answer.”
Wednesday didn’t really come up in conversation after that. You asked a few more times about her willingness to let you borrow her things, but after receiving the same answer, you gave up. Your paths had yet to cross, and you assumed that it would stay that way. But the universe seemed to have other plans.
The first time you formally met her was about a month after she transferred.
It was an appropriately cloudy day and you and Thing had just successfully completed a heist. You were in the Weathervane, both gushing over the fact that you had managed to steal fifteen scented lotions from Jericho’s local Bed, Bath & Body Works when a sharp voice interrupted you.
“So this is who you’ve been running off with these past few weeks.”
Both you and Thing flinched, looking up to see the Wednesday Addams staring down at you and your partner.
Offering a wave, you said, “Hey, Wednesday. Want a scented lotion?”
She ignored you completely. Her eyes barely scanned your figure before she was turning her full attention to Thing, her arms crossing over her chest in vindication.
“I knew you had to have an accomplice. You’re nowhere near nimble enough to properly set a trip wire by yourself.”
Thing slumped, obviously disheartened by the statement, but before you could defend his honor, your mind caught on something else.
“Wait…” You looked over at Thing, offended. “Have you been taking full credit for our pranks this entire time?”
Sheepish, Thing bowed, giving your hand an apologetic pat. You moved it away, crossing your own arms over your chest.
“Since this is your first offense, I’ll forgive you. But do it again and I’m keeping all of the profits from our future heists, got it?”
Thing jumped in alarm, tapping urgently. You smiled. “Good.”
Wednesday looked between you both, clearly unimpressed. You decided to take your shot again.
“You know, the lotion offer still stands.” You rifled through the lotions, taking note of their scents, and glanced back up with an apologetic look. “Though, we don’t have one that smells like stage 4 human decomposition, sorry.”
Again, she just stared blankly. You swore you saw her eye twitch but still, she said nothing and glared at Thing.
“Be back at the dorm by 7.”
With that, she turned and marched out of the café, leaving everyone in her path to fearfully stumble out of her way. Both of you watched, rapt, as she slammed the café door open and nearly nailed an approaching customer in the face.
Once she was out of sight, you turned to Thing. “Y’know, I think that went well, buddy.”
Thing said nothing.
You thought that would be the end of it, and honestly, you would’ve been fine if it had been. You made a good first impression and she now knew you existed. A double win!
But again, it seemed that someone had other plans—though this time it wasn’t the universe, but Thing.
Now that you and Wednesday had been semi-acquainted, Thing began inviting you to their dorm for hangouts frequently (because it was “his dorm too” …you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise). This set a few things in motion.
First, you met Wednesday’s roommate, Enid.
Enid was nice. A little hyper, like she was on a permanent sugar rush, but sweet, nonetheless. She gave you free manicures and skincare advice, and even let you borrow some things for pranks, so you hadn’t a single bad thing to say about her.
Second, you found out that you were very bad at scaling buildings.
Due to both curfew and Wednesday’s usual disapproval of your presence, Thing insisted on smuggling you in. By throwing a rope down to your balcony for you to climb. And…let’s just say that it’s a miracle you even survived the first time.
And finally, most importantly, you and Wednesday began to grow closer.
Only by about a centimeter, but progress was progress. And through sheer willpower and repeated exposure, you wormed your way into the tolerance stage, which is farther than most people who came into contact with Wednesday got, so you were proud.
She wasn’t warmer per se, but the sight of you in her dorm was no longer met with a throwing knife, just a death glare and some tentative (mostly one-sided) conversation if she was in a good mood. It was a big win.
Now that she wasn’t orchestrating any attempts on your life, you grew…not protective, but defensive of her, and Enid for that matter. Enid was your friend and Wednesday was…Wednesday. Willingly or not, they were part of your small circle.
So when a werewolf insulted Wednesday right to her face the day before the Poe Cup, well who could blame you for getting a little revenge?
You overheard him call Wednesday a frigid bitch, and he was right, but he didn’t have to say it like it was a bad thing. In retaliation, you and Thing gave him a special surprise involving shampoo and some of Enid’s hair dye that you were very excited to see the next day.
And it didn’t disappoint. Seeing the flash of bright pink amongst the Furs, and a matching flush of embarrassment that was nearly the same color was the highlight of your day.
At least it was until the Black Cats emerged from their tents.
Given your positioning, you were only able to see them once they started climbing into their canoe, and needless to say that the team’s roster shocked you. There were a few girls you didn’t recognize up front, then Enid and, as her co-pilot in the back, Wednesday.
Your jaw dropped. Because not only was she competing in the competition, but she was also wearing a skintight black catsuit, complete with ears and a tail.
The laugh you let out was so loud that it startled the surrounding crowd. You felt something poking your leg, and looking down, you found Thing standing by your feet. You bent down, glancing over to the Black Cat’s boat.
“Hey, you helping out Wednesday and Enid?”
He bowed in confirmation. Nodding, you stuck out a hand.
“Punch at least one siren for me, alright bud?”
He shook your hand firmly, a promise to fulfill your wish, and crawled off to the boat.
The event itself was rather dull. With the way Enid explained it, you were expecting something a bit more grandiose, but in reality, it was just standing around and watching for boats. Boring.
But hey, it gave you a half-day of classes, so who were you to complain?
The results though, were much more interesting.
For the first time in decades, the trophy went to Ophelia Hall. You were happy, not because you had any buried school spirit, but because you knew how much Enid wanted this. Seeing the fish get knocked down a peg was a nice bonus.
Afterward, you pushed through the crowd to try and find Enid so you could personally congratulate her, but before you could spot her, you bumped into her co-pilot. Literally.
Blindly, you steadied the smaller girl by the shoulders, a sorry on the tip of your tongue, but it got swallowed down as you were crudely reminded of her current state of dress. You tore your eyes from her outfit and dropped your hands back to your side, meeting her glare with what you prayed was a straight face.
“Hey, Wends. Congrats on the win! Love the outfit by the way,” you said, trying your absolute hardest not to crack a smile. The large ears were making that exceptionally hard, however.
She scowled. “Don’t call me that and for your information, I was forced to wear this.”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without laughing. Thankfully, it seemed Wednesday wasn’t finished speaking anyway.
“I noticed that werewolf’s hair is now a rather putrid shade of pink,” she said. “Did you perhaps have something to do with that?”
Once again, you found yourself unsuccessfully fighting off a smile. “I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. But it suits him, don’t you think?”
Before she could respond, a soaking wet Thing pulled on your pant leg and excitedly began recounting what happened. You bent down again, nodding along with his story, and beamed at him once he finished.
“Right in the eye?” you reiterated, and Thing confirmed. “That’s awesome. I knew I could count on you.” You gave him a quick high five then scooped him up, drying him off on your uniform and setting him on your shoulder.
You stood back up and saw that Wednesday was still there, staring at you so intently that you were sure she was somehow looking straight through you.
Cocking your head to the side, you went to ask if she was alright, but that must’ve knocked her from her stupor because, without another word, she spun on her heel and walked off, leaving you to stare at the spot she just occupied, thoroughly bewildered.
“That was weird,” you commented. Thing gave an agreeing pat.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t question her about it since you didn’t get the chance to speak with her again until exactly three days later.
It was just after dinner. Thing invited you over to help prepare a new scheme, and who were you to say no to the little guy?
Enid was visiting Yoko in the infirmary and Wednesday was nowhere to be seen, so it was just you and Thing, sitting by the window hard at work.
You tied the water balloon in your hand and held it in front of you, giving it a contemplative look. “You’re sure these will only give them bad rashes, right?”
The only response you received was a shrug, which was good enough for you, so you picked up the next one and got to filling it up. Not one to work in silence, you voiced a thought you’d been holding in for a while.
“So, do you breathe? Like, would be able to drown if you stayed under the water for too long?”
Thing shook his wrist matter of factly. You gasped.
“That’s so cool.” The flustered thuds you heard after made you chuckle.
Satisfied, you went back to filling balloons, but your head popped up only a minute later, another burning question on your mind. “If you can’t eat or drink, then what physically sustains you to keep you alive?”
Without missing a beat, Thing tapped out his answer.
“The misery of others?” You snorted. “Yeah, I guess that tracks.”
Conversation lapsed into quiet as you both focused on your tasks, and your mind wandered.
You wondered where Wednesday was. The hour just after dinner was her designated writing hour, and it was very unusual for her to be missing it.
You hoped that she’d be back soon, even if she only glared at you the rest of the night. Just seeing her would be enough to satisfy you.
Because in a somewhat cruel twist of irony, you were now falling victim to the very same feelings you mocked others for getting caught up in, and even more brutal was the fact that you didn’t mind all too much. Mostly because it was Wednesday.
Now, you were no poet or writer. You weren’t going to wax poetic and spew a thousand grandiose metaphors about how her eyes resembled that of a starless sky, no.
Wednesday was really pretty and genuinely interesting, and she looked at you like a predator wanting to tear apart its prey. And really, that’s all it took for you to dive right off that cliff’s edge into infatuation.
There was a certain excitement in knowing that she could dismember you with surgical precision if you ever went just a little too far, an irresistible thrill to be found in constantly toeing that line. Like walking a tightrope with life and death teetering on a knife’s edge—the perfect counterbalance to the endless loop of monotonous boredom your life had seemingly fallen into before her and Thing’s arrival.
The sound of the door opening interrupted your train of thought, and you whipped your head just in time to see Wednesday stride in with a book cradled in her arms and her usual annoyed expression adorning her features.
You perked up, and out the corner of your eye, you saw Thing do the same.
“Hey! How’s Nevermore’s resident tiny terror doing today?”
“Call me that again and I will disembowel you,” came her cheerful reply. You snorted.
“Uh-huh.” You finished tying the last balloon and looked back up, seeing Wednesday eyeing your prep work with distaste.
“Are those water balloons?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.
“Yep. They’re filled with holy water so we can throw them at the vampires who were teasing Enid last week for not being able to shift.” You grinned. Wednesday’s eyes widened a fraction.
“That’s insane,” she commented. Then after a beat, “Make sure to film it on your cellular device so I can watch as well.
“Of course,” you assured her, giving a dramatic bow as well. She rolled her eyes, and you watched her resign to her desk. Unable to contain your curiosity, you piped back up, “So what took you so long? I was expecting you to come in and kick me out hours ago.”
Her reply was instantaneous. “I discovered a secret passageway in the school, committed theft, and became the target of an attempted kidnapping.”
A twinge of jealousy pierced your gut. How come she always got to do the fun stuff? You quickly shook it off, focusing on the first thing she said.
“A secret passageway?” you asked, already thinking of ways to possibly utilize the space for you and Thing.
“Yes, I solved a riddle and uncovered a passageway hidden behind the Edgar Allen Poe statue in the quad.”
The Edgar Allen Poe statue… Recognition sparked, and the pieces slotted together, some of your prior jealousy abating.
“Ohh, you got kidnapped in the Nightshade’s Library?”
Finally, she looked at you, gaze so sharp it could’ve cut you in two. “How do you know about that?”
You and Thing shared an unsubtle sideways glance.
“Uh—”
“So what fingers do you do it with? Thumb and ring finger or thumb and middle finger?”
The pressing question was delivered in a whisper. It was late—at least an hour after lights out, but Thing promised to teach you how to snap before he left for his dorm.
So to avoid being caught, you and the appendage were tucked into the corner of a small hall that branched off from the quad. You were hunched against a tall Edgar Allen Poe statue while your companion stood next to you.
Thing waggled his fingers and pointedly put his thumb against his middle finger. You nodded and copied his movements, rubbing the fingers together to get a feel for it.
“So I just…”
You pressed the fingers together and made the snapping motion a few times in quick succession, beaming up at him when you managed to produce a few low sounds.
Suddenly, a deep rumble emanated from the ground beneath you as the statue you were seated on began to shift. You leapt to your feet, quickly grabbing Thing and placing him on your shoulder. You both watched, baffled, as the statue moved to reveal a long winding staircase.
Taking in a breath, you shared a look with Thing then looked back to the open pathway.
“Holy shit!”
“No reason,” you said far too quickly to be believable. Before she could question you further, you cleared your throat and moved on. “Did you have fun?”
“No. They were imbeciles that didn’t even know the basics of the art of abduction. It was pitiful.”
You frowned. “Oh. Sorry about that. I hope the next one is better.”
Wednesday shot you a strange look, studying you carefully before mumbling out a barely audible thank you, and turning back to her desk.
Since you were finished with the balloons, you slumped back against the window. There was nothing to do, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your eyes drifted back to Wednesday’s hunched form. Nosiness tugged at you. You wanted to know more about what she stole and why, and a glance at Thing told you that he did too.
Extending your arm for him to climb, you waited until he rested securely on your shoulder before heading to Wednesday’s desk to see what she was up to.
Lying flat on the wood before her was the book, opened to an illustration. On the left page was what looked to be a pilgrim extending a staff toward the figure on the right, who somewhat resembled Wednesday. You squinted. Scratch that, the girl on the right looked exactly like Wednesday.
“Is this what you stole?”
“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look over my shoulder like that.”
Her words went in one ear and out the other, your mind too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the drawing to actually listen. Finally, the identity of the mystery pilgrim clicked, and you asked, “Why’d someone draw you in a picture with Crackstone?”
Her head whipped over to you, all complaints of you being there gone. “You know who this is?”
“Yeah,” you answered, “Joseph Crackstone. He’s like, Jericho’s chief colonizer. Founded the whole town or something.”
She didn’t respond, seeming to take in the information, but you didn’t want the conversation to die quite yet, so you carried on.
“Outreach Day is next week, are you excited? I, for one, am pumped to do menial work for no pay.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, then appeared to rethink her answer. “Actually yes, but not because of the forced child labor. I already have plans to further my investigation in Jericho.”
You perked up, leaning forward to try and catch her eyes. “Can I come?”
She didn’t even bother looking back at you when she answered, hard and firm.
“No.”
-
“Thanks for letting me come along, Wends!”
Wednesday clenched her jaw, expelling a sharp breath through her nose. This was the third time you’d said that in the past four hours, and while she was able to ignore the other two, the addition of that stupid nickname made holding herself back a third time impossible.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And you’re only here because someone,” she sent Thing a murderous glare, “refused to cooperate without your agonizing presence.”
Your eyes widened, darting over to the hand resting on your shoulder. “Really?”
Thing gave a shy wave. A wide smile spread across your cheeks in response.
“Well thanks for advocating for me, bud. It means a lot,” you said with a hand over your heart, sounding far too cheerful for someone that just chased a dangerous monster.
Wednesday didn’t bother dignifying you with any more responses, turning back to the woods ahead. But that got her thinking.
Why had she let you come anyways?
There was no good reason that came to mind. You were insufferable. The human embodiment of vexation and foolishness and petulance. You were, in essence, all the traits she disliked in the general human race given physical form.
And yet, she had allowed you to come along.
Yes, Thing asked her time and time again to permit your presence, but instead of threatening his life like she should have done, she gave in with the silent promise of revenge.
It made no sense. You pushed boundaries, disobeyed orders, and disregarded her threats and insults with a garish smile like they were no more than a joke heard in passing.
And only now did she realize that she found it far less irritating than she did when she first met you.
The answer to why was unclear, but Wednesday wasn’t sure if that was because she was genuinely unsure of the reasoning behind her decision or because she didn’t want to figure it out.
Your annoying voice thankfully halted her mind’s trajectory.
“Of course, you’re my favorite Addams. You’re my best friend, the only other five-fingered appendage I’ll ever need in my life. Plus, Wednesday hates me so there’s no competition.”
Wednesday was once again stunned by the inane conversations you and Thing have on a daily basis. Some of the talks she’d overheard in the past months could be unironically described as mind-numbing.
Deciding to have some fun to pass the time, she turned to fully face you, running her eyes over your form before speaking.
“I don’t hate you.”
She watched your eyes go wide and you looked at her with some odd form of hope. The corners of her lips twitched.
“I despise you. There’s a difference.”
Your head dropped exaggeratedly, but when you looked up again there was a smile on your face, making any notion of hers disappear.
She couldn’t stand that—the way you were never put off by anything she had to say.
Enid had the same tendency to shrug off her threats, but even she was unnerved when she first met Wednesday. But not you. Wednesday couldn’t think of a single time when anything she said, threat or otherwise, made you uncomfortable or fearful, and there was seldom anything that got under her skin more.
“That was mean, Wednesday. Really mean.” She noticed Thing say something on your shoulder and you gave a playful gasp in response. “Don’t laugh, Thing. That wasn’t funny,” you said, even though you were giggling yourself.
At the sight and sound of your laughter, something strange happened. Something combusted within her, and the flames spread, licking her sternum with an uncomfortable intensity. Like someone crudely lit a match and let it fall inside of her chest, allowing the fire to wreak havoc on her insides. It was unpleasant.
Even more unpleasant was the knowledge that this was not the first time this had happened. And that was but another in the long list of reasons why she shouldn’t have permitted your presence today.
She faced forward abruptly and kept walking, but you entered her peripheral moments later, no doubt ready to bother her with something.
As always, she was proven correct. “Hey, so you said that Crackstone was in that vision with your ancestor, right? And he killed a bunch of outcasts?”
“Correct.”
That mischievous smile she had come to recognize spread across your face, pulling your lips up at a slightly uneven angle.
“What do you say we get a little revenge?”
“And how exactly do you propose we get revenge on a pilgrim that died centuries ago?” she inquired skeptically.
You hummed. “Undecided but you go on ahead and just let the masterminds cook for a bit. I promise we’ll come up with something great.”
You and Thing flashed her a simultaneous thumbs-up, to which she just blinked. Not needing to be told twice, she started walking again, leaving you both to linger behind. Once there was a sufficient distance between you and her, she slowed slightly.
Though she had just made a vital discovery for her case, she figured this brief period of quiet would be better spent unpacking that persistent internal conflagration that flared whenever you were near.
Deigning to use her tried and true investigative process, she tried to start from the beginning, to gather all the information she had and prepare it for analysis, but she immediately got lost because truthfully, she couldn’t pinpoint the start of your assimilation into her daily routine.
Her…acquaintanceship with you made little sense, even to her. Especially to her. The same could also be said about her budding friendship? with Enid, but that was easier to parse.
Enid was her roommate; someone she quite literally couldn’t avoid since they lived together. But you weren’t. You were Thing’s friend, sure, but that didn’t answer the question of why Wednesday was becoming entangled with you as well.
However, looking at it from a logical perspective, it somewhat made sense.
A mutual penchant for mischief and practical jokes is what drew you and Thing together. In that same vein, she supposed that your insatiable appetite for adventure and her unquenchable thirst for triumph put you both on a collision course that neither of you could prevent. Especially in such a creatively stagnant climate as Nevermore.
A rebel and a renegade—two of a kind. You understood her and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she understood you.
She just didn’t know how to interpret the unexpected side effects that came with that mutual understanding.
(That was a lie, she realized. Somewhere deep down she knew, but she didn’t want it to mean what she thought it might. After all, she couldn’t possibly be letting someone like you turn her into an apostate to her own beliefs and morals…right?
She thought back to what she said to her mother on her first day, how hypocritical her words looked in the face of this dilemma. God, how pitiful of a circumstance she found herself in.)
Either way, Wednesday had allowed the sparks to ignite, and she knew that any chance she had of tempering the subsequent wildfire it caused was lessening with every moment she knowingly spent with you in her space.
Part of her didn’t want to anyway.
Approaching voices behind her caught her attention. Focusing on the present once more, she listened in.
“That’s an awesome idea, right?” she heard you say lowly.
Wednesday rolled her eyes. Everything was either cool, awesome, or amazing to you. She desperately needed to expand your vocabulary if you were going to be sticking around. For her sanity.
Wet footsteps neared, and you ran ahead of Wednesday, turning to face her with a demeanor resembling that of an excitable puppy. She sped up her pace, but you matched it, even while walking backward.
“Ok, Wednesday, plan secured. You know what I need?”
“A thesaurus?”
You blinked, brows furrowed, then shrugged. “Yeah, probably but I was actually gonna say that I need gasoline, and matches.”
“Well, there’s a hardware store a block down from the Weathervane, you could get gasoline from there. I have the matches covered.”
“Oh?” Your eyebrow quirked, a grin appearing along with it. “You have matches on you?”
“Of course. I carry a box with me everywhere I go.”
Your smile widened.
Wednesday ignored the flames ravaging her organs and asked, “Are you going to tell me what this ‘plan’ is?”
“And ruin the surprise? No. All I’m gonna say is that you should have another song prepared for the unveiling.”
She narrowly avoided rolling her eyes again. Given the materials you needed, Wednesday had a good idea of what you were planning anyway, and thankfully, she had just the song in mind.
The three of you parted ways as you reentered the town proper, you and Thing running off to gather supplies, and Wednesday, after handing her matches over, headed into the square to prepare her cello.
Unsurprisingly, she was the first person there. She sat in the seat by her cello, languidly checking its strings more out of a need for something to do than because she needed to. Her cello was always perfectly tuned.
It didn’t take very long for you to follow, running into the square with a canister of gasoline and a bag of what looked to be gunpowder. She heard a low “let’s blow this fucker back to hell, Thing” before you split up, Thing pouring the gasoline in the base of the statue while you created a trail of black powder from the statue to behind the bleachers.
Wednesday watched you, the familiar feeling of being proven right tugging her lips upward. If nothing else, your flair for the dramatic was commendable.
You both finished and took refuge behind the bleachers just as people started filing in for the ceremony. As the normie high school band set up behind her, she took note of how nobody looked particularly enthused to be here (besides Enid, who would somehow find a way to be excited to watch paint dry).  
Soon, the ceremony was underway, and it was as underwhelming as Wednesday expected it to be. Just a plethora of fake smiles, stale claps, and off-key notes from the laughingstock of a “band” performing with her.
An explosion might not even be enough to resuscitate the audience at this point.
Once the fountain was turned on, Wednesday sent a sideways glance to you and you nodded, signaling something to Thing on the ground below. A trail of smoke and the telltale sound of burning gunpowder followed and Wednesday felt her dead heart begin to pick up pace at the thought of the coming anarchy.
Finally, the looming bronze figure burst into a brilliant ball of flame, the sound of the blast washing away the wretched off-key notes of the incompetent band behind her.
As the panic began to set in, her fingers moved on their own, relishing the familiar feel of the aching, discordant cords of Vivaldi’s Winter.
In moments, Jericho’s empty streets were flooded with people running in terror as sirens wailed in the distance. The harmonious screams that erupted from both outcasts and normies alike were almost more pleasant to her ears than the song that she was playing.
Principal Weems glared at her from afar, eyes narrowed in brewing suspicion, and Wednesday stared right back, lips coiling into a poisonous smile.
Tearing her eyes away from the principal, she peered through the haze of the smoke toward the bleachers. You were watching her with wide, awestruck eyes and a smile. You only looked away briefly to give Thing a fist bump before turning back toward her, but her gaze never faltered from you. Even with all of the glorious chaos happening around her.
That horrible, detestable feeling in her chest returned with a vengeance, blazing brighter than the raging fire to her right. But in this moment, she welcomed it, let it fuel her as the music reached its climax.
As the warm orange glow of the flames reflected off the raw excitement and amazement in your eyes and her treacherous song came to its end, Wednesday recognized that perhaps neither hatred nor disdain was quite the right word to describe how she felt for you after all.
And perhaps becoming a heretic and a hypocrite wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all (though it would certainly be close). 
1K notes · View notes
whiskeyghoul · 4 months ago
Text
8 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]
Tumblr media
First part, previous part, next part
A/N: Oh we are so back. This is mostly just angst, including the return of Tommy. Not a lot of Spencer in this one but the next one is going to be from his perspective. I really needed just a little angst in this fic again. I hope to be writing part 9 soon since I am in a bit of a writers block for this fanfic. But then again I really love writing for it too.
WC: 3,1 K
Tags: Spencer Reid, kidnapping, toxic exes, not proof read, we die like men, angst, hurt comfort but the comfort comes later.
Warnings: Kidnapping, mental instability, stalking, drugging
Tumblr media
Your POV
You had watched Spencer leave into a room, a sigh leaving your lips as he closed the door behind him. Returning to the lab to finish your work felt a little tiresome. You wanted to spend more time with Spencer. Time that was so rudely cut short with a case. It was to be expected, but that didn't mean you had to like it. So, begrudgingly, you made your way to the lab. Getting in to wait for another process to finish, while polishing off the final remnants of your sandwich. Looking around the desk you saw the different reports that needed organizing. It was messy, and chaotic. Sometimes you would lose a document for a few moments before panicking and frantically looking through all the papers you had. That had to change. Now was as good a time as any.
While organizing your papers alphabetically your eyes landed on Spencer's purple scarf slung over the back of the desk chair. Running a hand over the fabric. It was soft, incredibly so even. A few worn edges added character, showing how well loved the scarf had been over the years. Picking it up you put it up to your nose, inhaling the warm scent that was so completely Spencer. It was a comforting scent. The smell of sweet coffee, cologne, and that signature scent of his apartment you had smelled while you were there. Feeling a little creepy about smelling his clothes you quickly put it down after folding it into a small bundle. Placing it on the edge of your desk to not forget.
Going back to your desk you noticed something was just a little off. You remember that the coffee cup from that morning was missing. It wasn’t unusual for garbage to be removed by cleaning staff. Just not usually during your shift. Oftentimes they would come in at the end of the day, when you would have put all dangerous substances away so no one would accidentally spill anything. There were measures in place to keep everyone safe. So why was your cup missing?
No. There was no need to be skeptical about something as simple as this. You must have thrown it away subconsciously before you left to get lunch. That was the logical explanation to this. So you shook off the uncomfortable feeling. There was no more reason to be suspicious of the small things. You were a bit scatterbrained at times, so it was only normal for you to forget something as small as this. Especially since your mind had been on Spencer for most of the day. Having made up had left you on cloud nine. When he had come in that morning it just made you realize how sweet he is, how forgiving of your flaws that you were so critical of. You never expected him to forgive you when you had hurt him quite badly. So it was like a dream that he did. And that had left you just a little preoccupied. Misplacing or misremembering something wasn’t that far of a stretch. 
The beep of the analyser got your attention. Walking over you hit the printer button, out came a print out of all the chemical components detected in the white powder. Giving it a quick once over to have a look at the majority of substance, it was always tainted along the way. Sometimes by the general use and existence of the material, sometimes by the less than careful collection of whatever they wanted to be analyzed. Taking a look it seemed to have been ecstasy, tainted by a few wayward chemicals. Nothing that would cause death but still, it could lead to a possible suspect. Moving back to the desk you looked around for the designated case folder.
It wasn’t there. You looked between the ones you just moved. Maybe you left it between the older files. Alphabetical order was the easiest after all. Managing to do it nearly on autopilot you might have just stacked it in the finished pile. So, you picked them up, thumbing through the different manilla folders starting with the same letter. Nope… must have looked over it. You tried again, making sure that you saw each and every single one. Still, it wasn’t there. Okay, maybe you did leave it in the pile on your desk. Your pulse quickened as you looked through the files but still, not the one you needed. The cleaners know not to take these. This is when you started to panic just a little. Moving between your desk and other tables in the lab, checking every file cabinet in there for the one you needed. Still there was no sign of it. Fuck.
Your phone rang. Snapping your head up you scrambled from a pile of files you had been rummaging through. Spencer’s caller ID lit up the screen. Picking up you quickly pinned the phone between your cheek and shoulder, “Hey, pretty boy, what’s up?” you asked, a little breathless, while going back to the papers to try and find what you were looking for. “Hey. We just got to the local station and I wanted to call. I felt bad about having to leave without really saying goodbye.” You noted how Spencer’s voice sounded a little hushed, how the background noise was muffled. “That’s okay. I am glad you called though. I like hearing your voice.” You said while continuously shuffling papers. “Are you busy? I could call back another time.” He asked, probably hearing the papers. “No, no!” You said before readjusting the phone to your other ear. “I just.. I lost the file I was working on. I must have misplaced it so I am a bit stressed looking for it.” Admitting to your fault. “Oh, I would have helped if I could.” Spencer said before you heard Morgan’s voice in the back, calling out to Spencer jokingly. “It’s okay, hearing your voice makes me feel a bit better.” You responded with a hint of shyness. It was easier to admit these things over the phone than to his face. 
“I really wanted to hear from you too.” Spencer said before a whispered, “Morgan! stop!” Which made you laugh. “How does the case look? Will it be a long one?” You asked, trying to keep the conversation going, hoping to hear him speak more. His voice eases any worry in your mind. Like a placating balm to smooth over any uncomfortability. “Actually, it seems like it might be easier than expected. Though I don’t want to jinx it and then have to be stuck here for the foreseeable future.” he answered. “Better knock on wood then.” You added to his sentence, really hoping he would be back sooner rather than later. “I will, once I get to the desk. I really have to go though, because Morgan is being annoying.” he said, a bit remorseful. “I’ll text you soon. Maybe call later tonight?” You asked and heard a mh-hm from the other side of the line. “Okay.. Bye, talk to you soon.” “Bye.”
When you hung up it really settled in you weren’t going to find this file you were looking for. Which meant there would be a ton more paperwork, a new file, which meant over time. So you made your way down to whoever could help you with this file, explaining the situation you got a new version along with an entire packet of paperwork to fill in to ‘officially’ request a copy of the file. Getting back to the lab you sat down, ready to start the tedious task of correctly filling in everything.
It was late when you finished. Almost dark outside the clock indicating it was 7:30 p.m. At least your paperwork was finished. With a sigh you closed it. Stretching back your arms with a groan. Sitting hunched never did wonders for your body. A growl from your stomach signaled it was really time to get going. As you packed your bag you thought about the leftover pasta bolognese you had in your fridge, just how good it sounded right about now. With the paperwork in hand you left the lab, locking up behind you and heading down. Spencer´s purple scarf was loosely wrapped around your neck. Leaving the filled in forms in the designated inbox of the higherup who needed to officially grant your request. Everything was always so bureaucratic. You texted Spencer you were finally leaving Quantico, getting a ‘But isn’t it almost 8?’ back from him. You chuckled, ‘Couldn’t find the file I talked about, so had to get a replacement, you know how much paperwork that takes.’ you texted back nuzzling your nose into the soft fabric of his scarf. Inhaling the smell, feeling a little better with it around you, like he was there to joke about the file, say it was okay.
Saying goodbye to the security guard before you headed to the parking garage, your car was one of 5 left on the floor. When you got in and turned the key in the ignition it ticked but never caught on. You sighed, of fucking course this was to happen now. You already had a stressful day, this was just the cherry on top. You slammed your hands against the wheel quickly before taking the key out, popping the hood, and stepping out. You opened the hood, seeing your car battery disconnected, your heart sank. This is weird.
Panic rose like bile in your throat. Your heartbeat raced as your hands trembled. Everything inside of you told you to run. Yet your feet were nailed in place. Rooted to the ground, unable to move. Not wanting to look up in case something, or someone was close by. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw movement. A black clad figure moving closer. You gripped the strap of your bag, a trembling hand moving into the pocket of your jacket. Taking the key in a firm grip, in case of emergency it could be used as a weapon. But it was of no use, when the figure got close you turned with the key in hand. Raising your right hand to hit the figure, to embed the tip of your key into any soft tissue you could reach, but your wrist was caught in a quick movement. Your eyes widened as you recognized the face that stood in front of you.
Tommy.
You gasped his name out while trying to wring your hand out of his grip. “I’m sorry.” He managed to say before you felt a pinch in your left arm. Confusion, panic, fear, those emotions washed over you as you realized what just happened. He had drugged you. You could feel the way your arm grew heavy, along with your breathing labored. Trying not to panic because that would just make everything work faster. You still struggled against his hold but he had you pinned against your car. There was nowhere to run to. You just prayed the security cameras were picking up what was happening. Tommy wasn't that smart to shut down the cameras too, you hoped. “You’re not sorry.” your voice sounds slurred. It became more difficult to keep your eyes open, to keep standing straight. “I just can’t lose you.” He almost sounded apologetic as his arm moved to keep you upright. “Fuck you.” Was the last thing you managed before your eyes betrayed you. Darkness took over, and your body went limp in the arms of your worst enemy. 
Blinking rapidly didn’t seem to do anything. Vision still black you felt your hands were tied behind your back. There was a sore spot on the left one. The way you had been sat had your head tilted forward and your neck was now incredibly stiff. You were on a chair for sure. Blindfolded and tied up. You tried to stay calm, to not let your emotions take over. But your heartbeat was fast, loud in your ears, it made it hard to focus. You didn’t know how long it had been but it must have been some time. Your phone was no longer in your pocket, at least you didn’t feel it. The scarf around your neck was gone, Spencer’s scarf. Panic over took you again. Breathing picking up in short, quick bursts. “Don’t panic, please. You always overreacted.” Tommy’s voice sounded out. Your head shot up, craning around, trying to locate where he was. “Me? Overreacting? Tommy, you kidnapped me!” You said exasperated, while your hands were straining against the rope that had your wrist stuck to the chair. “Well you wouldn’t have come with me if I asked.” You groaned at that answer, clearly your wishes to never see him again weren’t clear enough of a hint. “Because you hurt me! I never wanted to see you again.” You raised your voice, trying to not yell but you were frustrated, scared, panicked.
“Just… ugh! You aren’t even listening to what I want to say!” Tommy sounded frustrated. Suddenly his hands grabbed your shoulders, he had been closer than you thought. His grip an iron vice as your body stiffened. Breath caught in your throat. “Okay. Okay. I’m listening. That’s what you wanted, right? So say what you need to say.” You said, trying to calm down. Logically you knew you shouldn’t be indulging him. But you knew that egging him on would make things worse. He was explosive, angry, that’s what happened every time. “Right. I need you to listen. Because, I have been thinking.” Tommy started, his hands still holding onto your shoulders. You could feel the breath on your skin, it was humid. Like a wolf looming over its prey, panting out to finally have caught dinner. “I think. You shouldn’t be with that guy. He is a twig, I could be so much better. We could work things out if you gave me a try. You are going to give it a try.” He sounded almost out of breath as he spoke. As he tried to get his thoughts in order. “I have given it a try, but it didn't work. Tommy, you haven’t changed. At all. So why would it work now?” You answered, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear but it was important for him to hear it. Your emotions flipping like a switch, wanting to placate him and then wanting to tell the truth, to egg him on. The heartbeat under your skin felt like a drum against your ribs. Hammering a constant rhythm of anxiety. “No, I have changed. You just didn’t give me a chance to show it. Going on and on about how I have been stalking you. I haven’t! I have changed and you are going to let me show it to you.” His grip tightened before he let go. You could hear his feet, pacing around, probably with his hands in his hair. Like he did when he was frustrated with you. He always did.
“You can’t keep me here. The FBI will come looking when I don’t show up tomorrow.” You strained your wrists, trying to feel if there was a knot you could loosen. But it felt like zip tie cuffs. Plasticy, hard and digging painfully. “You called in sick with a really bad stomach bug. It will take at least a week.” He swallowed after his answer, walking a few steps away to rummage through something. With the blind fold on you could see a little strip of light as you looked down, though it was relatively dark probably due there being no windows. No he wouldn’t be stupid enough to keep you somewhere with windows. It would be too big a risk, and he did not seem like he wanted to lose you. In your mind you hoped he hadn’t texted Spencer, hoping that he’d try to call you later tonight like you had agreed upon. If you didn’t answer he would probably figure something was wrong. If he did text him something you prayed it was so out of character that it wouldn’t go unnoticed.
“Right… and after that week?” You asked, hoping to keep him talking, keeping him talking would keep him from hurting you. That seemed most logical at least. “You will see how good I am to you. You won’t want to leave anymore.” Tommy said, “And if you don’t I’ll just tell them a family member died, request a leave of absence.” He continued and the rummaging stopped. Your heart dropped, not knowing what to expect at that moment. It could be something to hurt you with, something to shut you up, no matter what you did there was going to be something. More footsteps. It kept your heart rate up that was for sure. Something clamped around your ankle, cold, metal. Thick and heavy, the weight pressed down on your foot. “You can move around like this. Can’t make you love me again when you’re stuck to a chair.” He almost chuckled at that. The sound made your stomach feel heavy. Like he didn’t seem to care about your wellbeing. Blood running cold at that. Like a polar stream running through your body. “Move around?” Your voice sounded strained. Throat closed and breathing tight.
He stepped around you, you could feel the air shift as he moved. Stepping to the back his hands were on your wrists. “Yes. You have to promise you won’t try to hurt me. Otherwise you’re right back in this chair again.” Now that was something you didn’t want. Being stuck in place, physically unable to move, it was the worst choice. When released at least you could move around. Get a feel of the place. Find a way out. “Right… I promise.” You said it slowly, deliberately. Each word out of your mouth needs to be thought out from now. Using words to placate. Fight, flight, freeze or fawn. And with Tommy, fawn seemed to be your best option. Keeping him friendly would give you time. 
Your hands were released from their cuffs, the blind fold removed from your eyes. Blinking rapidly to adjust to the dim light of the room. You were sitting in a wooden chair, you had figured as much. There were no windows, 2 doors, one on your left and one right in front of you. The carpet on the floor was a weird  green color that looked like it had been stained one too many times by something unknown. There was a small living room area, two couches with a coffee table. A kitchenette on the opposite wall. Turning your head you saw a dining room table. It was like you were in a weirdly small studio apartment. Everything was there to live. You glanced down, your right leg sporting a metal cuff, a chain going off to the wall. “Welcome home.” Tommy said it almost triumphantly, proud of his work.
It hit you like a ton of bricks. Tommy was going to keep you here as a forced housewife. And you just prayed Spencer would realize what was going on quickly.
Tumblr media
Tags:
@luvkatryna @emma-e-a @littlemadamred @cultish-corner @styleiconsize0 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @depressedbutartsy @mikariell95 @jasf444
@tootsiefootsie @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @sammy-4103 @thedevioussmirk @pleasantwitchgarden @khxna   @suckstobrlaurie @mega-kittyglitter-1 @superlegend216 @seninjakitey
46 notes · View notes
wachinyeya · 7 months ago
Text
https://news.ku.dk/all_news/2024/06/researchers-invent-one-hundred-percent-biodegradable-barley-plastic/
Tumblr media
From the article; Enormous islands of it float in our oceans and microscopic particles of it are in our bodies. The durability, malleability and low cost of plastics has made them ubiquitous, from packaging to clothing to aircraft parts. But plastics have a downside. Plastics contaminate nature, are tough to recycle and their production emits more CO2 than all air traffic combined.
Now, researchers at the University of Copenhagen’s Department of Plant and Environmental Sciences have invented a new material made from modified starch that can completely decompose in nature – and do so within only two months. The material is made using natural plant material from crops and could be used for food packaging, among many other things.
"We have an enormous problem with our plastic waste that recycling seems incapable of solving. Therefore, we’ve developed a new type of bioplastic that is stronger and can better withstand water than current bioplastics. At the same time, our material is one hundred percent biodegradable and can be converted into compost by microorganisms if it ends up somewhere other than a bin," says Professor Andreas Blennow of the Department of Plant and Environmental Sciences.
Only about nine percent of plastic is recycled globally, with the rest being either incinerated or winding up in nature or dumped into enormous plastic landfills.
Bioplastics already exist, but the name is misleading says Professor Blennow. While today’s bioplastics are made of bio-derived materials, only a limited part of them is actually degradable, and only under special conditions in industrial composting plants.
"I don't find the name suitable because the most common types of bioplastics don't break down that easily if tossed into nature. The process can take many years and some of it continues to pollute as microplastic. Specialized facilities are needed to break down bioplastics. And even then, a very limited part of them can be recycled, with the rest ending up as waste," says the researcher.
Starch from barley and sugar industry waste
The new material is a so-called biocomposite and composed of several different substances that decompose naturally. Its main ingredients, amylose and cellulose, are common across the plant kingdom. Amylose is extracted from many crops including corn, potatoes, wheat and barley.
Together with researchers from Aarhus University, the research team founded a spinoff company in which they developed a barley variety that produces pure amylose in its kernels. This new variety is important because pure amylose is far less likely to turn into a paste when it interacts with water compared to regular starch. Cellulose is a carbohydrate found in all plants and we know it from cotton and linen fibers, as well as from wood and paper products. The cellulose used by the researchers is a so-called nanocellulose made from local sugar industry waste. And these nanocellulose fibers, which are one thousand times smaller than the fibers of linen and cotton, are what contribute to the material’s mechanical strength.
"Amylose and cellulose form long, strong molecular chains. Combining them has allowed us to create a durable, flexible material that has the potential to be used for shopping bags and the packaging of goods that we now wrap in plastic," says Andreas Blennow.
The new biomaterial is produced by either dissolving the raw materials in water and mixing them together or by heating them under pressure. By doing so, small 'pellets' or chips are created that can then be processed and compressed into a desired form.
Thus far, the researchers have only produced prototypes in the laboratory. But according to Professor Blennow, getting production started in Denmark and many other places in the world would be relatively easy.
"The entire production chain of amylose-rich starch already exists. Indeed, millions of tons of pure potato and corn starch are produced every year and used by the food industry and elsewhere. Therefore, easy access to the majority of our ingredients is guaranteed for the large-scale production of this material," he says.
Could reduce plastic problem
Andreas Blennow and his fellow researchers are now processing a patent application that, once it has been approved, could pave the way for production of the new biocomposite material. Because, despite the huge sums of money being devoted to sorting and recycling our plastic, the researcher does not believe that it will really be a success. Doing so should be seen as a transitional technology until we bid fossil-based plastics a final farewell.
"Recycling plastic efficiently is anything but straightforward. Different things in plastics must be separated from each other and there are major differences between plastic types, meaning that the process must be done in a safe way so that no contaminants end up in the recycled plastic. At the same time, countries and consumers must sort their plastic. This is a massive task that I don’t see us succeeding at. Instead, we should rethink things in terms of utilizing new materials that perform like plastic, but don’t pollute the planet," says Blennow.
The researcher is already collaborating with two Danish packaging companies to develop prototypes for food packaging, among other things. He envisions many other uses for the material as well, such as for the interior trims of cars by the automotive industry. Though it is difficult to say when this biofriendly barley-based plastic will reach the shelves, the researcher predicts that the new material may become a reality in the foreseeable future.
“It's quite close to the point where we can really start producing prototypes in collaboration with our research team and companies. I think it's realistic that different prototypes in soft and hard packaging, such as trays, bottles and bags, will be developed within one to five years," concludes Andreas Blennow.
62 notes · View notes
object-vault-9 · 4 months ago
Text
Object Anatomy
Since I mentioned the vault and stuff in detail why not ! Warning for: Blood/mild object gore in a simple diagram/etc , mentions of death, etc, brief mention of a parasite 100% SFW, save for the minor blood and death mentions And the science isn't super realistic because they're objects haha, I want it to be fun more than anything rather than have to completely rationalize how objects are sentient. They just are
Tumblr media
Objects in the v9 verse are animated by basically a special blue substance we've just been calling "blood", it serves as not just blood but a general life force for an object. Like a living animal, an object needs to breathe, drink and eat to sustain themselves, and they can become ill ! Illnesses affect how functional their special blood is, which is why illness or infections have been deadly so far Anatomy wise, what makes up an object is the same as what makes up the real equivalent of them. So for example, Cornerstone is solid stone, To-Go is hollow and Nectarine has fruit flesh/a stone Objects don't have organs, their blood basically fullfills this role too, though some objects with more advanced components might have issues with a compotent that might cause them health issues. For example if Dive Light's battery were to corrode it could cause him long term health problems. If it couldn't be fixed, an artificial replacement (like hand making a battery the right size for him to replace it) could work
Tumblr media
Objects can sometimes survive with suprising amounts of damage, even if parts of their bodies are missing orcompromised, but that is sometimes just luck. With treatment or good health, even severe physical ailments like Oxy's corrosion can be slowed, though she is helped by the foundation's advanced medicine. Bad Apple (a bandit from earlier weeks) wasn't handling his rot, which presented similarly to the corrosion, very well, and it spread between his appearances. For both though it cause them discomfort/pain/loss of function in afflicted body parts
Tumblr media
While an object of course would die if completely destroyed, the sudden shock of a traumatic injury, especially if around a seemingly important part of them like their face or the core of the object, can also kill them
Tumblr media
Even though objects are made of non-biological materials, they can still heal like a living creature, and even scar. Thats why though Kite has torn a few times the fabric has sealed back together, or Dive Light's gouge in the plastic remains. The materials from an object are often a little sturdier than their real equivalent too, though fragile objects are still more fragile than other types, like Tea Cup being prone to cracking Though because they may be hollow and stuff, things that might kill a person might not hurt an object as much. Impaling Kite hasn't scarred him yet Trauma to their bodies/limbs can still affect them after the injury has healed too, like Shovel's chronic arm pain They can't regrow their living features, like limbs or facial features. Some naturally growing objects (like Blue Spruce) can regrow missing features like when she regrew her needles after the fire, but Uranium Glass couldn't regrow the shard missing from the rim of her glass
Objects are basically completely sexless, though some might present ""gendered"" traits. Objects can also transition to different genders
Tumblr media
When an object has a kid, the parents choose a small piece of an inanimate object to basically "link to". The more similar it is to the parents, the higher chance of success it is ! So for example, a Shovel is well inbetween a Trowel and a Rake and using the handle of one was a safe bet. Usually an object that is very similar to one parent, or an object that feels somewhere between both parents, is chosen.
The object is influenced by the parents, and fills out into a whole object. If using more than one shard, sometimes twins can occur, or if the linked piece breaks while developing, there could be identical twins ! An object may occassionally have traits from a parent that aren't common in the real version of it, like the hc that Apricot's leaves can cause irritation like his father Nettle, or a flower object having a different number of petals than the norm to match a parent.
Tumblr media
They can also inherit facial features, like eyebrows/eye lashes/freckles/etc or color schemes Objects develop at the rate a human does, and in good health/circumstances live as long as a human is expected to too. Their size isn't 1:1 on real objects proportionally, which is why while Spruce is tall and Microchip is very small, they are both still closer to the range of object heights that are expected Also I just like to think even serious objects are inherently a little goofy and whimsical and stuff Thats all I can think of for now !
30 notes · View notes
a-typical · 5 months ago
Text
Probability figures in everyday decisions we make. Consider the public’s sentiment toward genetically modified organisms—GMOs. Reactions tend to be bimodal, depending on your politics, itself a warning flag. The truth and efficacy of science should never correlate with your political views.
The food chemical company Monsanto, now owned by Bayer, developed a genetically modified variant of corn that was completely resistant to glyphosate, a weed-killing herbicide marketed under the name Roundup, which they also developed. Monsanto scientists genetically removed their corn’s susceptibility to the chemical. This potent combo—Monsanto’s GMO corn coupled with Monsanto’s weed killer—enabled farmers to spray their entire crops and have the herbicide kill everything but the corn. The Vermont ice cream company Ben & Jerry’s uses corn syrup as a sweetener for some of their products. (Yes, I too was surprised to learn this.) News that some of their ice creams had trace amounts of glyphosate from the corn used in their syrup created a media dust-up. In response, Ben & Jerry’s decided to stop using GMO corn syrup altogether, even though the one-part-per-billion detection levels of glyphosate were far below US and European standards. Since many people who buy Ben & Jerry’s ice cream lean left—aligned with the company’s generally progressive views on all things—Ben & Jerry’s Homemade Holdings Inc. judged this ban to be a wise business decision.
Let’s look closer at what happened there. Every substance you could possibly ingest, food and otherwise, has a calculated lethal dose associated with it, measured by what’s called LD50. That’s the dose per kilogram of body weight where 50 percent of the people who consume that amount will die quickly. These data often come from tests on laboratory mammals such as mice. There’s another metric, called no-observed-adverse-effect level (NOAEL), which addresses the long-term influence of a substance on your health and is more sensible when thinking about food safety. LD50 helps to make a different point. The smaller its value for a substance, the more lethal it is. As such, tables of LD50s can be quite illuminating. Here’s a sampling:
Sucrose (table sugar) | 30 grams per kilogram
Ethanol (common alcohol) | 7 grams per kilogram
Glyphosate (Roundup) | 5 grams per kilogram
Table Salt | 3 grams per kilogram
Caffeine | 0.2 grams per kilogram
Nicotine | 0.0065 grams per kilogram
The most lethal substance on this hand-picked list is nicotine. Caffeine looks quite potent too. Just drink about eighty demitasse cups of espresso if you want to die from it. Next comes salt.
The least deadly on the list is sugar, as you might expect. Notice further that glyphosate is less lethal than table salt, but not by much. Actually none of this concerns us here. What matters is what happens to a 150 lb. (70 kg) person who eats Ben & Jerry’s ice cream—a fact I calculated but relegated to my Forbidden Twitter file, where it remains, simply for how disturbing it would be. In social media, I never intend to be disturbing:
You would need to consume four hundred million pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream for its trace amounts of glyphosate to kill you. But after only 20 pints you will die from its sugar content.
Ben & Jerry’s made the right corporate decision if it protected their profits. Although they could have also used the occasion as a teaching moment—a mind-blowing lesson on comparative risk. But that works only if people are open to learning. In modern times, many of us don’t satisfy that criterion, perhaps because, according to the nineteenth-century British essayist Walter Bagehot,
One of the greatest pains to human nature is the pain of a new idea.
It is, as common people say, so “upsetting;” it makes you think that, after all, your favourite notions may be wrong, your firmest beliefs ill-founded.… Naturally, therefore, common men hate a new idea, and are disposed more or less to ill-treat the original man who brings it.
— Starry Messenger: Cosmic Perspectives on Civilization - Neil deGrasse Tyson (2022)
29 notes · View notes
blissfulip · 1 year ago
Text
Dopamine
On AO3
Tumblr media
Viktor x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut.
Cw: That weird guy being weird
Words: 1.6k
[A/N: tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly. (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]
Previous Next
Chapter 2: Walking through water
He slept in for the first time in over a year, and although catching up on all those missed z’s was a welcome feeling, as soon as he woke up and sat at his desk, the uneasiness of not knowing what to do rushed over him.
Walking through water instead of air, the feeling of resistance that accompanied every task Viktor worked on drove him up the wall. It was bad enough that he had no access to any of his equipment, but he was also not allowed to retrieve any of his annotations from the lab to take home, so he was left with a pair of notebooks and some blueprints he had in his briefcase. It wasn't enough. 
Resignation. He was usually capable of extracting even the smallest things from thin air, but the circumstances and the maddening lack of resources had finally gotten the better of him. Before long, he felt the onset of something he hadn’t experienced in years: boredom. The invitation of his brain to play, desperate for stimulation. But Viktor was lost, this wasn’t something typical of him, and he didn’t know how to quench this thirst. 
He rummaged around the few volumes he had on his desk—nothing he hadn’t read at length before. Cleaning was quick and fruitless, it turns out that not spending any time in your own home proved to be the best way to keep it clean and organized. And of course, the fridge was empty, he didn’t remember the last time he ate a meal in that kitchen, let alone made one, but at least this need for sustenance could be turned into an assignment, so off to the market he went. 
It was sunny out. Not scorching, but pleasant enough to make this short walk enjoyable. The bubbling sounds of children running around, two people fighting near the fruit stalls, and vendors trying to talk over each other, the citric scent that turned into earthy basil that turned into peppery spices almost overwhelmingly fast—it was nice, he thought, and he lazily dragged his feet along the market, lingering a bit too long before walking back to the dormitories with what he needed.  
Cooking was surprisingly enjoyable as well, and he tried (unsuccessfully) to find a justifiable reason as to why he didn’t do it more often. Soon enough, the meal was finished, the food eaten and the dishes done, and the gentle feeling of rich accomplishment he had felt so far melted away when he found himself bored stiff.
And when he accepted that this problem had no solution, his mind landed on you, the culprit. He recalled all the previous instances in which you had interfered with his work before, like the time you had burned your eyebrows off with some strange flammable substance and had the progress day presentations postponed, and the time you had used all the magnesium alloys for an (excessively scaled, he thought) ‘experiment’ and left him without any for the pieces he was manufacturing, or the time the first hextech intern he ever hired had a complete meltdown over you rejecting him and had to be transferred. Granted, that last one wasn’t your fault, and Viktor never really held it against you, but it was just another case in point to prove that if something was related to you, it would probably be a problem for him. 
When memoirs are written about exceptional minds in history, there’s always something about all the trials and tribulations they had to endure—the obstacles on their way to greatness. And it’s not like Viktor thought he would ever get something like that written about him, but if he did, if he ever invented something revolutionary enough to warrant something like a memoir, it pained him to think that there would probably need to be a whole chapter about the pesky chemist that constantly tormented him. 
Even when he wasn’t working, you were there, a constant. Your thunderous laugh and the clicking sound you always made when you were in deep thought, your sarcastic remarks and the eternal self-satisfied grin you carried. Viktor found himself thinking about that way too often. 
-----------------------------------------------------------
The notification on your door to be present at the conference hall the next morning ruined your mood. You had been having quite the day off and were already making plans to get back to reading all the poetry books you had bought at the fair last summer, so the sudden promise of work had you deflating like a balloon. 
You noticed that the hall was packed, and that it probably wasnt equipped to host the entire roster of researchers the Academy had. You tried to distract yourself from the claustrophobic feeling brewing in your stomach by chatting with Moira about the crazy date she'd had the night before. Unfortunately, you were not going to get to the best part, since Heimerdinger came up and tapped the microphone lightly before she could talk about the guy's bad table manners.
"Attention, please, everybody! There, quiet down, please. Yes, thank you.” He started. “I’m sure you might all be wondering why I have gathered you here, and I am happy to announce I have great news to give you!”
Murmurs could be heard from various places along the hall.
“As you all know, the Academy had to make the difficult decision to close the laboratories temporarily due to the recent explosion at the manufacturing facilities. We know how distressed and impatient you must be to go back to your work and how frustrating the prospect of an entire month of idleness feels to brilliant people like you all,” he paused, seemingly for effect. “Thus, the Academy has decided to organize a seminar with some of our brightest minds at each of our research divisions, which will take place at the conclusion of this month-long absence of activity.” 
The quiet muttering gradually became a cacophony of confused exclamations and flat-out grunts of annoyance, but after people started to quiet down again, he continued.
“Everyone will be required to attend, but only one person per department is to be voted internally, both to be involved as an organizer and as a speaker. I shall leave you to it now, and expect a list of the chosen people at my desk by the end of the day, as well as one update at the end of each week leading to the date of the event. Good luck, my dears!” 
With that, he jumped off the platform he had been standing on to reach the microphone and left the room, ignoring any and all clamors of bewilderment. After some minutes of complaining, though, the people from each department begrudgingly got together to get the voting over with. Some of them chose randomly, others put it up to an actual vote and chose the person everyone thought was a better speaker, and others had volunteers. To your dismay, you were chosen to speak on behalf of the chemistry department. And, not surprisingly, Viktor volunteered on his end. 
No more than 30 minutes later, everyone else had left, except for the chosen people. A man from Biology you weren’t familiar with, Lara from Arts and Performance, a lovely older lady from History and Anthropology, Corso from Language and Literature, that weird guy from Poli-sci, Viktor, and you
The morale was not up the walls, even though you were all happy to have something to do, having to organize an entire workshop conference as well as the presentation each one of you had to give felt like more work than you would normally do at your respective labs. Not to mention, you knew this was nothing more than a copout for the academy, throwing this at you so that you didn’t get any free time without them having to get involved in any organizing themselves. 
Regardless, after a short talk, you decided to split into three groups. One would be in charge of the scheduling and agenda; the second would take care of the venues; and the last would take care of advertising, leaving Lara to design and print the flyers and posters. 
“Let’s team up, sweetheart, I know this amazing place downtown where we can organize everything.” You came to learn that his name was Asher, and you thought that name was not fit for how much of a sleaze he was.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, but I’m banned from that part of the city. I caused a three-way collision between 2 horses and an electric bike; there were no casualties, but I can’t be within a 3-mile radius of there.” You said with a deadpan expression. 
“What? Seriously?” He asked. Everyone else was either completely confused or mildly horrified, but Viktor knew you well enough to let out a small huff. 
“Of course not.” You chuckled and then picked up one of the folded-up pieces of paper Lara had been writing on for everyone to draw a name from. 
It was your turn to be horrified when you unfolded the paper and read Viktor’s name on it. After the initial shock wore off, however, you could’ve sworn you felt something akin to relief. Perhaps it was due to being saved from having to go with Asher, or maybe it was because Viktor was the only person there that you knew, even if you didn’t get along. 
But as it usually happens, any positive sentiment you ever harbored towards him came to a halt as swiftly as it came, when you heard him grunt in displeasure. You weren’t in the mood to throw any jibes at him in front of everyone, so you simply rolled your eyes. 
“1:00 p.m. tomorrow at the café near the night market. Bring a notebook, I left all of mine at the lab.” You said not bothering to look up at him as you gathered your things to leave the hall. 
You interpreted his silence as agreement. 
90 notes · View notes
emiplayzmc · 6 months ago
Text
Shitty Gravity Falls AU that mayhaps I am delulu about:
Gravity Falls x Jekyll & Hyde
I haven't much fleshed this out yet because this was literally just made up while reading Journal 3 and listening to the J&H musical OST, but what I'm MAINLY thinking about is like- 'what if Sock Opera was Jekyll and Hyde. Would that be fucked up or what.'
♤~~♡~~♤
It's the 1800s, and Dipper and Mabel are staying with their great uncle Stanley Pines, who's been living in the house that his brother, Stanford, lived in before mysteriously disappearing. In this AU Mason and Mabel would probably be moreso in their late teens / young adulthood
Dipper (more likely to be known as just Mason in this AU rather than a nickname) would be a man of science and logically much like Ford in this universe, but also still the mystery-loving Dipper we know and love :) He and Mabel would get it in their heads that they could find out what happened to Stanford, and they go snooping around looking for the clues as to how and where he disappeared to, breaking into an old, locked study of the house. Everything is messed up or destroyed except for many strewn about notes on the desk, and one vial of a mysterious liquid in a cabinet, surrounded by other smashed bottles of the same substance. They read the notes that Ford made about a substance he concocted that allowed him to give into his darker impulses, and soon after the two of them hurry to leave the room with the notes intending on keeping the fact they were snooping a secret - although not before Mason spots the bottle of potion.
The notes about the potion and Ford's experiences with the duality essentially act like a Journal 3 for Mason here, except much shorter and less otherworldly. Eventually Mason's morbid curiosity of the vial and Stanford's notes lead him to sneaking into the study again, and he drinks the vial in the cabinet.
Cue the arrival of Hyde - or in this AU, Bill Cipher / Bipper - causing mischief and hijinks across London and within the Pines family. And eventually, just like the original book (and like with Ford and Bill in the show), Mason gradually starts losing more and more of himself to the addiction of the potion / becoming Bipper while finding more notes and pages about how Stanford felt like he was losing his mind when the darker version of him took over, feeling like it was moreso a demon possessing him than an act of science in the end.
Mabel and Grunkle Stan would probably be the Utterson and Lanyon in this universe, trying to figure out why Dipper keeps disappearing / acting like a completely different person more and more often, and eventually having to find a way to save him before he meets the same fate as Stanford, or the original Jekyll & Hyde.
♤~~♡~~♤
Aka, Ford's the OG Jekyll in this AU and Dipper unknowingly follows in his footsteps lol. Again, I haven't fleshed much of this out, but I've always thought about 'what if Dipper and Bipper were Jekyll & Hyde parallels' but never really gave it too much thought? It seems like it'd be an interesting AU to explore mainly because I love the themes of goth literature, and I think the potential of Bipper / Bill's influence with Ford / Dipper goes SO WELL in this universe with the 'darker impulses' and the inherent HUNGER the two of them have for knowledge and the unknown that Bill manipulates in the first place, same as Jekyll being driven by his own impulses of needing to act out instead of being a prim Victorian man 24/7 paired with being a man of science.
18 notes · View notes
grizzlyofthesea · 8 months ago
Text
"What is the wish that will make your Soul Gem shine?"
I made a magical girl form for myself in the event that I'd be stupid/desperate enough to make a contract with Kyubey.
Tumblr media
My wish would be to incite a sustainable, inclusive, equitable, and cruelty-free scientific revolution. I'm into astronomy, so I decided that my Soul Gem would look like a star in its "jewelry" form. Its color is teal because that's the result I got on a "What color is your magic?" personality quiz. Simple as that.
Tumblr media
Since my wish pertains to science, my outfit naturally has a lab coat and goggles. The coat is made out of a transparent PVC-type material. The overall aesthetic combines Georgian/Victorian menswear with vaporwave. I just thought it would be fun.
The goggles are functional for one of my unique abilities; I can use them to analyze another being's abilities and weaknesses. My other special power is the ability to create constructs out of laser meshes.
My weapon is a telescope ray gun...thing. In "ranged mode," it of course fires lasers. The trigger and handle can retract for "melee mode," allowing the telescope to serve as a more effective battering weapon. It can also act as an actual telescope.
I drew it, but (1) it's incomplete, and (2) it's pictured with some spoiler-y parts of the design. Proceed with caution if you have not yet completed Madoka Magica.
Tumblr media
Now we get into the witch stuff.
My witch name is Cosimo. My Grief Seed has a shooting star design on it, with the tail shaped to look like a grid/lattice. My Witch's Kiss is a planet with two rings and a two-tailed comet above it. The planet's coloration references Annie Jump Cannon's mnemonic for star types/temperatures: Oh, Be A Fine Guy/Girl, Kiss Me.
Everything from here on out is still uncolored. Major details are set in stone, but minor ones are subject to change.
Tumblr media
Cosimo is the Supernova Witch, with an erratic nature. She is serene and calculating on the outside, but she will lash out in a panic as soon as she feels that she has lost control. Those who fall too close to her surface are spaghettified and can never hope to leave again.
**Cosimo is approximately 10 meters in diameter, and she changes color/temperature based on her mood. The bluer/hotter she is, the angrier or more stressed she is. Red indicates lethargy or sadness. Yellow-white is her perfect, happy medium.**
Familiar #1 is Amadeo. He is the Supernova Witch's trusted receptionist. He cheerfully greets guests and keeps them up to date about the witch's interests. However, his speeches are so long that they bore people into a deep slumber.
**I imagine his mouth to squash and stretch instead of moving organically. Think of Natsuki's mouth during certain parts of Doki Doki Literature Club.**
Tumblr media
Familiar #2 is Orsina. Orsina is the Supernova Witch's talented groundskeeper and architect. She builds, maintains, and destroys parts of the labyrinth according to the witch's whims. She is praised for her work but prone to becoming jealous of the other familiars. Also comes in a right-handed variant.
**The substance dripping from Orsina's wrist is thick, viscous, and burning hot. Individual Orsinas may have different colors of skin or fingernails, too.**
Anyway, that's all. I had fun coming up with all this.
20 notes · View notes