#and mr. geeky and i will just look at it and the be like thanks we hate it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

httpsryu · 8 months ago

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b.f.s (best friend's sister) pt. 2

pairing: mo jihye x fem!reader

summary: it was always a thing, noticing your best friend's older sister. ever since you were a young girl.

category: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers au

genre: fluff, slight angst (?)

warnings: JEALOUSY, y/n is very much head over heels for jihye

a/n: thanks for the love on part 1 <3

clearing your throat and simultaneously tapping your feet, you dart your eyes between your best friend and her sister. both girls look down at their feet, avoiding your gazes at them.

"i mean if it wasn't a date, i don't get why you're so upset." maya blurts out her intrusive thoughts, earning a nudge in her stomach by her sister.

you deeply sigh, having jihye's concern pan towards you. why do you seem to care so much about that girl?

"it isn't about that." you respond with a worried expression. "you already know how introverted haerin is, you can't just randomly yell that out -- especially in a public setting."

your best friend rolls her eyes, your words going through one ear and coming out the other. "i was just genuinely excited for you."

"me?"

maya nods. "haerin is a cute and nice girl and you were complaining about how you hated being single, let alone get grossed out when boys try to court you. i just figured you'd want to try something new with a nice and cute person like her."

"i see. but maya you'd have to understand that me dating is my own personal matters, besides even though i always complain on how single i am, i still don't want to be in the dating scene yet." you explain, thankfully without blurting out that you have feelings for your best friend's sister.

a crush is a crush.

"y/n is young to date anyways." jihye backs you up, feeling a sour taste at the idea of you and haerin possibly becoming a thing.

maya groans loudly, putting her head back to be dramatic. "we're only a year younger than you!"

"still too young." jihye crosses her arms, wanting to not talk about nor think about you dating. (after all, she's just being a protective older sister.)

the younger mo rolls her eyes at how geeky and overprotective her sister is being, getting up from the ramp that she was sitting on to reach you. "y/n, let's go leave this oldie behind. she's getting on my nerves."

"HEY!"

shaking at your head at how immature the two siblings are being, you can't help but to stare over at jihye more. oh, how pretty she is in the sunlight with her natural curly hair falling perfectly right at her shoulders.

the way jihye could never stay mad at anyone ever, that's how much of a sweet and kind person mo jihye is.

"AHHH! save me!" maya runs behind you, using you as shield from her jihye unnie.

jihye huffs in frustration at maya using you for protection before picking up your backpack from the ground. "it's getting late, let's start heading back home."

slinging your backpack around her shoulders, she starts walking in front.

pretty

"hehe." your best friend giggles in victory, kissing your cheek and making sure to leave a big 'smooch' sound which grabs jihye to stop walking and bringing her attention to you two.

"we're coming! we're coming!" maya could not help but to let out another eye roll at the way her sister is acting today.

you wait for a bit, standing behind to see the other two walking. however, your sense of vision floods and linger over jihye. oh, how she looks pretty while YOUR backpack is around her back. she even walks pretty, how is one's beauty made so perfect?

mr and mrs. mo made jihye with love.

"what are you doing?" maya turns around, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand to get a good look at you. "let's go!"

jihye turns around as well, her eyes basically smiling at you making you freeze and look off to the side of her face.

trying to play it cool, you let out a small laugh before running up to the both of them. to not over fluster yourself, you lean a bit more on maya's side.

this seems normal.

but, why does jihye want you closer to her? she can't help but to ask herself on why you seem to always draw a line between you and her? are you that uncomfortable around her? could it be because she's a year older than both you and maya?

with her hand clutching on one of the straps of your backpack, jihye distantly stares off into the streets, keeping quiet as she ponders on how to get closer to you.

it's only normal, right? you three basically grew up together, it's not weird at the fact she wants to become closer to you, right?

"isn't it strange that kyujin keeps leaving notes into someone's locker?" maya asks, wondering why one of their friends is trying to keep it a secret.

you can only hum in question, before trying to defend your friend. "i think it's honestly kind of cute."

"tch, so cheesy."

notes in a locker?

jihye patiently waits in front of your classroom, her hands gripping to the straps of her backpack while she looks down at her feet to calm her nerves down. she softly inhales and exhales, finding a steady breathing before your class ends.

"y/n." kyujin whispers to you across the classroom.

you struggle to drought down the lecture materials as you look up at your friend calling your name. "huh?"

you notice your friend making a weird jerking movement with her head, leaving you extremely confused and overstimulated due to the materials covered in class. "what?"

"look at the door." kyujin whispers back.

at your friend's words, you lazily dart your eyes to the door.

OH MY GOD??

at the sight of her, you immediately sit up in your seat, pretending to look studious in case she happens to peer inside the classroom. why could jihye possibly be here? and in front of your classroom?

and why does she look amazing in that grey sweats gym uniform? and her hair is so curly today, you can feel a sense of devotion just for her only. if only...she would see you the same way you see her.

jihye probably only saw you as a sister

all of a sudden, the urge for class to end disappears and you just want to stay seated at your desk FOREVER.

getting a quick glimpse of the clock, you internally start panicking as you curse out the clock for moving its hands too fast all of a sudden.

the second your teacher started to erase her work off of the whiteboard, the panic rises internally even more. class is ending soon and all of sudden, you want to stay here forever instead of facing your ongoing long term crush like an idiot.

everyone else in the class starts to put their workbooks away, having you start panicking even more and ultimately, you too put away your workbooks into your backpack with an anxious heartbeat racing.

you watch as everyone else disperse out the classroom, halting on purpose to still calm yourself down and figure out why jihye is out waiting here in front of your classroom.

"bye weirdo." kyujin sends you a flying kiss to which you shudder and grimace before she walks out the classroom.

jihye looks over, peering inside the classroom once the students exited out. she smiles softly at the way you're diligently taking the time to put away your workbooks and school supplies. jihye can't help but to admire a little bit of your features.

you look up from zipping up your backpack close, making direct eye contact with the older.

jihye smiles over at you, her pink rosy lips upturn with her signature lip gloss. you swore you could've felt your heartbeat stopped beating for a second at the smile. before you could even get straight back to what you were doing, jihye strides her way towards you.

OH MY GOD-calm down.

"hi unnie." you manage to say, calming down a bit while continuing to zip your backpack up.

the older lets out a soft hum. "hi y/n."

"w-what are you doing here?" you get out of your seat, asking her.

jihye pushes down the thought that you probably don't want to see her and manage a small smile at your question, grabbing your backpack and holding it. "maya is doing something for a project with her partner so i figured i would accompany you on your walk back home, if that's alright?"

alone? just the two of you? walking?

"y-yeah, that's alright." you softly smile at the older.

jihye gasps happily, nodding as she walks besides you out of the classroom, holding your backpack in her hand.

the silence is comforting yet it's killing you in the inside. only sounds of the both of you walking against the concrete ground could be heard. and strangely; you like it yet dislike it.

you only like it because walking with your crush is a blessing but you dislike it because what do you even do in this situation?

jihye admires your features a little longer, blatantly staring at you without knowing how it'd make you feel. frankly, jihye always found you perfect and adorable. (like a younger sister, right?) somehow; you look even more perfect in this sunlight.

'why is she staring at me so long like that?' you think to yourself, feeling nervous even more as the both of you continue to walk along a small trail to your neighborhood.

"so, you normally help out at the library?" jihye asks with a soft tender voice, smiling down prettily at you.

you let out a curt nod, diverting your eyes down at your feet to stop your cheeks from getting painted by a pink-hue. "haerin and i both help out at the library."

"ahh~ i see." jihye nods to herself, keeping that information stored into her brain. "so...this haerin. is she nice?"

jihye hopes she didn't sound too intruding for asking that question. why does she want to know so badly if haerin is nice to you or not?

you can only let out a shy nod in response.

jihye ignores the weird itchy feeling in the back of her throat, inhaling in deeply before speaking again. "that's...that's good."

the air falls silent again.

"y/n?"

you look up at her sweet voice calling your name, ignoring the way the soft vibrations of her voice affects your inner turmoil of emotions. "hmm, unnie?"

"umm...do you not like me?" jihye's voice is very gentle and quiet...with a sense of vulnerability seeping through.

god; if only she knows how much you like her. how much every glance she gives you make you feel overwhelmed and enthralled, giving you butterflies each time. or how much her voice calling your name out makes your heart pound in your chest.

"no...i do. why?" you compose yourself to be able to say those words.

jihye gazes down at you with a small smile, tilting her head. "you barely talk to me and when you do, only a few words are exchanged. you tend to be wary of your distance with me when i'm near you."

you sigh deeply silently, darting your eyes back to the ground, the cracks in the pavement looking more interesting than the face of the girl you've always had a crush on since you were seven.

jihye quietly observe you, waiting for your response.

"it's not that unnie..."

you sigh again, not knowing what to say to ease the older girl's mind.

"you just make me nervous..."

jihye's brows furrows at your words.

nervous?

"is it because i'm older than you?" the question comes out hesitantly from the older's lips, lingering in the air for a few seconds while the two continues walking.

you shake your head immediately. "n-no."

"is it because i'm maya's sister?"

"no."

jihye's lips changes into a small frown, her eyes full of curiosity. "then why do i make you nervous?"

before you could open your mouth to form a response to the older's question, a small bark and a scratch on your legs grab your attention. you glance down, seeing your family's beloved toy poodle. which means you've arrived home...

"ah~ looks like we've made it safely." the older smiles softly, putting distance between you two to give you space. "i'll let maya know i've taken you home safely."

you can only nod in response. "thanks unnie..."

"i'll see you around." jihye says, forcing a smile as she reluctantly turns around to start heading home.

thursday; at 5:30 pm is written down as the worse day in your entire life.

here you are, lying in maya's arms while she comforts you. her hand brushes through your hair while tears are pouring out from your eyes. it's dumb, really. to cry over someone who's probably only seen you as their little sister's best friend.

and yet; here you are...

all because you saw jihye hugging some cool girl who goes by the name of kim minji.

why does the world seems to punish JUST you?

"shh...it's alright..." maya soothes you, her tone in a hushed whisper.

she feels your tears subsiding as you sniffle softly.

"there, there...you're alright."

once you've managed to calm down and relax, maya slightly pulled back to take a look at you. her thumbs gently wiped around your tears.

"now, who made my darling cry?" maya asks in a small whisper.

how do you tell your best friend of ten years that you've had a crush on her older sister since the day you became friends?

you shake your head, worried of what maya would think if you told her.

before maya could open her mouth to respond back, the door of her room gets swing opened and there she is, jihye standing in the doorway with a concerned look.

"i...overheard on the way back to my room." jihye softly says, her eyes focus onto you. "is everything alright here?"

no. no. no.

it's as if her gentle and concerned voice makes it even worse and before you can stop yourself; a dam of tears starts to break.

oh boy, this will be a long night.

hey...hehe...sorry for the VERY late second part :( my laptop got stolen and i hate typing on my phone or ipad so i had to buy a new one...

october 30, 2024; publishing date

taglist: OPEN

#kpop x reader #kpop imagines #httpsryu #new jeans x reader #new jeans imagines #danielle x reader #mo jihye x reader #mo jihye #jihye x reader #newjeans danielle #newjeans x reader

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followsfrankiep · 2 months ago

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Don't Worry About Her (Eddie Brock x Reader)

mood board by my fave @rei-is-still-here . thank you babe!

Summary: They always say, when a guy tells you not to worry about his girl best friend, you probably should. Izzy's wild and free-spirited nature has always contrasted with her best friend Eddie's quest for stability. Now that Eddie is engaged, he never expected Izzy to complicate things for both of them.

TW: Smut, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Dry Humping, Contraceptives, Power Dynamics, Explicit Words, Cheating, Minors DNI.

Word count: 7.5k (I KNOW.)

A/N: I made sure this chapter was long, messy, and fucked up as possible. Here's Izzy and Eddie for yall, take them in as toxic and cringey as they can be! LOL. Pls dont get sick of them, there's more of them to come soon!

No pressure tag 🙈 @rei-is-still-here @potter-solomons @feveredvisions @tickettride

Previous part

Part 5 - Detour

Eddie has found a new routine lately. He starts his day with breakfast, ofcourse, then a shower, preparing for work, kissing his fiance good bye, rides either his motorbike or car to work, sits on his office, scribbles down, diving deep into his research, coordinating with authorities—policemen, public figures, anyone who could provide the answers he sought, then a brief lunch before the whirlwind of meetings and deadlines began again, and then drive back home. With Isobel around, he takes off earlier than usual from work, swings by the Knight's Mansion before he heads home.

He had tons of excuse whenever Anne would look for him. Work obligations, impromptu hangouts with friends, or the classic need to “clear his head” had become his go-to excuses. It wasn’t fair, he knew, but it was easier than confronting the tangled web of feelings he couldn’t quite sort through.

Typical.

Whenever Izzy was home, it was almost a given that Eddie wouldn’t be far behind. It wasn’t something they ever talked about outright, but every night, four plates and sets of silverware were laid out on the dining table. Her mom, in particular, would always look for her honorary son whenever he is not able to have dinner with them. She would glance toward the door, a touch of concern in her expression, saying, "Is Eddie not coming tonight?”. Mrs. Knight’s fondness for Eddie was subtle. She had a knack for noticing his favorite dishes, like the way he gravitated toward her baked lasagna and without saying a word, she’d always make an extra batch the next time, just for him. Eddie, ever the charmer, would thank her with a grin, while Izzy groaned and rolled her eyes in mock jealousy. Or whenever her kids' banter heated up, Mrs. Knight often found herself taking Eddie’s side more often.

Izzy did not mind. She knew her mom would love anyone who loves her daughter.

Inside the walls of her bedroom, Eddie would sit on her bed, his hands resting lightly on her hips as she straddled his lap, their faces just inches apart. He ramble about his day, recounting details about investigations, meetings, and other "geeky" (Izzy's words) journalist things. She would simply listen, her fingers threading through his hair absentmindedly, smirking every so often, while she would slowly grind her hips against his until he gets an erection. The next thing you would hear is the sound of a condom packet tearing, comes along the sound of their thighs rhythmically slapping together.

To be fair, she does listen; she just likes to make the most of their stolen time together.

It came to a point where they were both so engrossed in getting off as soon as possible, that in the middle of her riding him out, Eddie felt his cock become more slick inside her, her walls warmer and gushier than they first started that night. His knees are bent, keeping her snug in her position while he thrusts his cock inside her deeper. He palmed both side of her hips, synchronizing their pace. Her walls clenched around him, adding more sensation to his pulsating cock inside her. Truth to be told, Eddie felt so damn good he was reaching his peak shortly, but then it hit him. The familiar feeling was when they did it raw— the condom fucking broke.

"Fuck!! Fuck! Iz, baby, stop—stop—" Eddie stammered, tightening his grip on her hips, pulling her up and away from his cock.

Izzy who was cresting as well, flickered her half lidded eyes open with a mix of annoyed and confused expression plastered on her face while she's being forcefully lifted away by him.

"What the—" she annoyingly hissed but was immediately cut off by Eddie whose breathing faltered in between his words, successfully pulling her away from his throbbing cock, she plopped next to him.

"Baby, the condom broke."

She blinked, the orgasm building up on her stomach was gone, watching Eddie remove the soaking, ripped piece of latex from him, throwing it on the trash bin near her bed.

Shit.

They were catching their breaths, both unsatisfied by the emergency interruption. Izzy's fingers tapped on her phone on the bedside table to check— it was almost time for Eddie to go back to his apartment. He already told Anne he'd be home soon enough, restarting sex would take so much time again and they can't risk getting caught because of his frequent late hours. Their night ended with both of them edged out yet never having their release of the night and he had to leave to go home to his fiancé.

Izzy was a healthy woman, her body keeping with regular periods, never late or unpredictable. When it came to birth control, it wasn’t about irresponsibility—it was a deliberate choice between them. They relied on using rubber for protection, a decision they both felt comfortable with. Eddie, ever the supportive bestfriend, never pushed her to consider alternatives like pills or injections. He respected her autonomy completely, trusting her to make decisions for herself. Whatever their needs were, Eddie had always made it clear he was willing to shoulder the responsibility for the both of them.

Until, that condom breaking incident happened.

She found herself inside a clinic the very next day, her fingers anxiously drumming against the arm rest, feeling the cold antiseptic-soaked cotton rub against her skin. It wasn’t a decision she’d made lightly, but it was hers—something she’d chosen for herself.

"Alright, just a quick pinch, Isobel." The nurse calmly said, then proceeds on jabbing the needle in her upper arm, making her wince lightly. Slowly, the dose was pushed inside steadily, before withdrawing the needle, followed by a piece of cotton firmly pressed on the site.

"There we go. All set."

Izzy nodded, thanking the nurse with a faint smile as her thoughts drifted to Eddie. He’d never pushed, never questioned her decisions, always making it clear that whatever path she chose, he’d be there to walk it with her. They had a long conversation about this after the condom broke. Considering their sexual activities were always done in a quick and secretive manner, she's decided to get a shot.

On her way home, riding a cab, she shifted slightly as her phone buzzed in her lap as Eddie’s name lit up the screen. Smirking to herself, she swiped to answer, bringing the phone to her ear.

“You’re really keeping tabs on me, Brock?” she teased, hearing Eddie’s low laugh through the line.

“What can I say? I care. So... did you do it? Get the shot?”

“Yes, Mr. Overprotective. I got the shot, and faced the needle. Are you happy now?” She rolled her eyes, smiling.

“I mean, I was already happy with whatever it is you choose, Iz" Eddie replied, his tone dipping into something softer. “But yeah. Thanks for letting me know.”

Her heart softened, hearing him say those words. The puppy dog strikes again.

“Not a big deal, Brock. You know I don’t mind keeping you in the loop.”

“Everything is a big deal when it comes to you,” he countered. “You really did not have to do it—I can manage with you know...”

“Sure you can, big guy. I just didn't want to risk it. I can't be pregnant attending the groom's wedding.”

The cab slowed as it approached her parent's house, but Izzy lingered on the call, her hand brushing lightly against the bandage on her arm. She can still hear Eddie sighing on the other end of the line. She was not wrong though. His wedding preparations are still pushing through, and they both (somehow) accepted their closing deadline. They have to be as careful as possible, whether about getting pregnant, or getting caught.

“Alright, Brock. I’m home,” Izzy said finally, a hint of mischief returning to her voice. “Don’t stay up all night worrying about me, okay?”

“Not a chance,” Eddie replied, smiling to himself. “But go get some rest, Knight. I’ll see you soon.”

"Soon? You're not swinging by tomorrow?"

"Uh, no. Anne needs me to finalize the wedding venue." he muttered, a hint of remorse in his voice.

In a rare cases like this, she did not have any witty comebacks after what he said, her thumb pressing the red button ending their call. The two words: Anne & Wedding hurt her ears.

Three years ago, fresh from another whirlwind adventure, Izzy stepped out of the airport with one thought steady in her mind: finding him. Her so-called "chauffeur", the one constant in her chaotic life. After months of roaming faraway places, the thing she looked forward to most wasn’t just being back in San Francisco—it was seeing him again, the familiar face that always felt like home.

And there he was—Eddie, leaning against his car, arms crossed and his expression hovering somewhere between nervous and happy. Without hesitation, she called out, “Brock!”

He looked up, his smile softening into something hesitant but unmistakably warm. Again, he was out of words as to how beautiful she looked despite her carrying her big duffle bags and hair looking like it has not been washed for a couple of days, Izzy was darting toward him, dodging past other passerbys as she closed the distance between them. Dropping her bags on the ground as soon as she reached him, she jumped into his arms, nearly knocking him off balance. Eddie chuckled while his hands held her as she clung to him tightly.

“I missed you,” she said, her voice muffled against his neck. The hug lasted just long enough to make Eddie’s heart ache before she tilted her head back and kissed him deeply—one making up for their lost time.

Eddie kissed her back, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly before his lips faltered. When they parted, Izzy pulled back just enough to study his face, her brow furrowing slightly. His smile was there, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. She knew instantly that something was wrong. He was usually so happy to see her back, and kisses like a man who's been starved of physical affection but now, it was different. She slid down to her feet, her gaze sharpening as she stayed close to him.

“Do I have to drag it out of you or are you going to tell me what's wrong?” she asked, her voice playful but probing. At this point, it was useless to come up with an excuse. Eddie hesitated, his hands loosening their hold on her as he stepped back, bending down to grab her luggage.

"Ah, yeah... I, uh, guess I can't really hide anything from you, huh?" he said with an obviously nervous chuckle.

Her lips twitched into a small, knowing smirk, though her eyes remained fixed on him. “Not a chance. So?”

Eddie didn’t answer right away. He grabbed her bag, carried it to the trunk, and popped it open to stash it inside. Izzy trailed behind him, arms folded as she leaned against the car, clearly waiting for an explanation. Eddie shut the trunk with a soft thud, taking a moment to exhale and prepare himself. When he turned to face her, their eyes met, and for a split second, it seemed like he was going to say something. Instead, he scratched the back of his neck, nodding toward the passenger seat.

“C’mon, Iz. Get in the car. We’ll talk while driving.”

She raised an eyebrow, not moving. “Seriously? You’re making me wait for this?”

Eddie forced a smile, stepping aside to open the door for her. “Just get in, Knight.”

She can't shake the uneasy feeling off as she kept her gaze steady on the road while Eddie drove. She watched Eddie out of the corner of her eye, his facial expression looking like he's contemplating hard while his fingers anxiously tap on the steering wheel. He looked tense—braced, even—and that told her all she needed to know. She gently placed her hand on his thigh.

“Eddie, whatever’s on your mind,” she said with a calmly with her thumb brushing against his jeans to comfort him. “You can tell me. You know that, right?”

Eddie swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as his eyes stayed fixed on the road. He hesitated, as though wrestling with the words before they could come out.

“It's not easy to say."

“Brock, when has anything ever been easy for us?” She teased, leaning back in her seat. “Just give it to me. I can take it.”

He gave a short, dry laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always make it sound simple,” he muttered.

“Maybe it is,” she shot back, her smirk softening. “Try me.”

Eddie exhaled deeply, his grip tightening briefly on the wheel before he loosened it again. “I’ve... I’ve met someone,” he said. Izzy’s smile didn’t falter. Not at first. Her expression didn’t shift an inch, not even as his words registered. She let out a small, airy laugh, tilting her head slightly.

“You’re going to need to be more specific than that."

He quickly glanced at her, the flicker of guilt in his eyes betraying him. “Uhm, her name’s Anne,” he said after a moment. “She’s a lawyer. She’s—”

“And you’re together now,” Izzy interrupted, her voice steady as she finished his sentence for him. She slowly pulled her hand away from his thigh as casually as she’d placed it there. Eddie faltered, his eyes darting back to the road as his grip on the wheel tightened again.

“You know how it is, Izzy...”

“Yeah,” she said, cutting him off before he could continue. Her voice was light, almost dismissive, as she waved a hand in the air. “You don't need to explain.”

There was a pause, and for a moment, the only sound in the car was the soft hum of the engine. When they started hooking up, they both did not venture out into any romantic interests outside the two of them even though they did not talk about their feelings. Even though she said it was okay for him to find someone, it can't be helped that for them, it felt like an unspoken rule. Izzy goes away and all the time, she comes home to Eddie who took care of her needs whatever it may be. With her, he was helpless and he did not mind.

“Anne, huh?” she continued, her tone easy, almost amused. “How long have you been dating her?”

"Uh, yeah, so... it's been a few months now. I—I really wanted to tell you as soon as, you know, things got serious between us, but I figured... it'd be better if I told you personally."

“Are you happy?"

"I-I am, Iz."

"That's great. I'm happy for you too."

But she wasn’t. Not really. It was not okay. Beneath the practiced calm of her voice, beneath the faint smirk she wore like armor, her chest felt like something sharp and thick stabbed right through it, and her thoughts were cursing her with all the 'what if' scenarios. She wouldn’t let it show, though. Not now. Not when he is happy with Anne. Eddie deserved that. Commitment was something she could not give. She knew and experienced the type of affection her bestfriend can give, and he deserves more than just her going away and coming back to him whenever she pleases. Wandering and seeking thrills were heavily integrated in her system, it was a huge part of her. Eddie probably saw what he needed with Anne, and she does not have any right to say it was not okay.

Whenever he would chauffeur her to and from the airport, their routine would usually end with a shared kiss after he drops her off, or Eddie would come inside to help her unpack and catch up with her parents while he's at it, but things are different now.

They both knew it.

Izzy is cherished as an only child, grew up surrounded by love—a stark contrast to the reckless streak she embraced. So when confronted with an uncomfortable and painful emotions, her instinct was to retreat or run.

And so she did. When Anne entered the picture, Izzy distanced herself from Eddie—barely replying to his messages, ignoring his calls, and ending their hook ups. Eddie attempted to introduce Anne to her so many times. He tried. He wanted his best friend to see what kind of woman Anne was, but Izzy never ran out of an excuse. You may say that's how it should be and that she was coming from a place of respect, but the reality is, she was not. She was doing it for herself, to save herself, rather than creating a respectful boundary with Eddie. Even her trips grew longer, as though putting miles between them might ease the sting.

A few days after she got her birth control shot, Izzy once again distanced herself from Eddie. One of the four plates her mom set had been untouched for two nights now. Her puppy dog, caught in the middle of wedding preparations and meetings with the coordinator, made sure the owner knew he hadn’t just disappeared. His messages came steadily but knew the signs well— her longer gaps between replies, shorter responses, or sometimes none at all.

"Big news: I survived another wedding planning meeting. Barely. There was a thirty-minute debate on napkin colors. Napkins, Izzy. I swear I’m suffering."

"You know if it were up to me, I’d be at the mansion right now instead of talking about floral arrangements. Tomorrow, okay?"

"Missed dinner again. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m mostly heartbroken over missing your mom’s cooking. And, you know, you. But mostly the cooking. Maybe."

Izzy read each message, her fingers hovering over her screen, debating whether she would respond. She understood—of course she did. This was the life he was building, the choices he had made. But knowing didn’t make it easier.

Eddie, in his own way, knew that too. Even in his absence, reaching for her across the distance. And when he sensed her silence stretching too long, he pushed further.

"Knight. You alive, or did you finally decide to flee the country again and not tell me?"

"If you’re mad at me, at least tell me. Or cuss me out like you always do. You know I prefer that over radio silence, Knight."

"Iz, if this is some twisted test of my patience, I am failing miserably."

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t enough to close the gap between them. But Eddie never let her go unnoticed, never let her feel forgotten. Laying on her bed, Izzy read his texts one by one. Her lips curved into a faint smirk as she typed her reply.

"Brock, you’re really bad at being too busy for me. You might want to work on that."

There is only so much they can do to hide the truth. Sooner or later, bits and pieces of their little secret might slip out. Sooner or later, the cracks start to show, small fragments slipping out when you least expect them. And the deeper the emotions run, the harder it becomes to stay guarded—it was no different for Eddie and Izzy.

He was restless. Lying in bed beside his sleeping fiancé, staring at his phone, waiting for a message he wasn’t even sure was coming. He had sent her texts all day but Izzy had been silent. And that silence, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, crawled under his skin. It was past midnight when his phone finally buzzed. Picking his phone up so fast it was ridiculous. He read the message twice, then a third time, he scoffed. The casual tone, the effortless dismissal—it was so Izzy, and yet it hit him right in the gut.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. Damn her. She knew exactly what she was doing. Knew exactly how to make him feel something without giving him a single inch to push back.

Smug. Effortless. Infuriating.

It was so her, so perfectly crafted to get under his skin without giving him a single inch to push back. And damn it if it wasn’t working. Exhaling sharply, he shifted in bed, swiping his thumb over the keyboard before shooting off his response.

"Let me make it up to you. Dinner. Tomorrow. No excuses, Knight."

He sent it. Sat up in bed. Waited. Her reply came faster than expected. He attempted to be as nonchalant as she was but he was so bad at it.

"Can’t. Already agreed to dinner with Drake."

Eddie blinked. Then blinked again.

Drake?

His stomach twisted in an entirely irrational way before his brain could catch up. He sat up straighter, thumb hovering over his screen as his jaw clenched. Of all people…

"We already talked about that guy, Iz. He's bad news."

It sounded defensive even before he sent it, but it was too late to take it back. Her response carried the same maddening air of nonchalance.

"Relax, Brock. He's gonna show me around his company then just dinner. Pretty sure it won’t kill you."

Eddie scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. Just dinner, she said. Like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t sitting wrong in his chest in ways he didn’t have the patience to analyze. Damn her. Damn her. And damn him for letting her get under his skin—again. With Isobel, his feelings were growing more undeniable. The late-night hook ups, their shared arguments, the way she gets under his skin—it all made him question everything about the life he was trying to build with Anne.

Meanwhile, Izzy stepped into Carlton Drake’s empire—the Life Foundation—dressed for the occasion, polished and poised like someone who was walking into a date she had been eager for. She had picked out the outfit carefully, styled her hair, perfected every detail, as if convincing herself she wanted this. But she didn’t. Not really.

She did not want to push through it but this partly a distraction, partly a middle finger to Eddie for being “unavailable,” and partly a reminder to herself that she can still live her life outside of his best friend's orbit. It was both stubborn and rebellious of her. But her heart isn’t in it, and she finds herself constantly drawn back to him even when the day comes to an end. Even when she is seated across Carlton in a luxurious restaurant of his choice, nodding absent mindedly to her date's chatter.

Carlton liked her. That much was clear. But it was less about her as Izzy or Isobel and more about the idea of her—like she was a puzzle piece he had decided would fit seamlessly into his grand, carefully constructed vision of the future.

“Do you know what the problem is with people today, Isobel?” Carlton mused, swirling the wine in his glass as if preparing to deliver some revolutionary truth. “They think the world is black and white. There's good and bad. They cling to outdated notions of morality instead of embracing evolution.”

What the hell is this man saying? She thought.

He was oblivious to the way her posture had shifted, the slight stiffening in her shoulders. “You’re different, though. I see it in you. You understand that greatness isn’t just an aspiration—it’s a responsibility.” He gestured slightly, as if granting her access to some grand revelation. “People like us—we don’t just exist. We shape the world.”

Izzy exhaled quietly, resisting the urge to rub her temples. People like us. The statement clung to the air, bloated with self-importance. She had known walking into this that Carlton was the kind of man who didn’t just want admiration—he expected it. Eddie warned her about it but she was stubborn enough to go through with this date. She tilted her head, gaze flicking lazily between him and the wine glass in front of her.

"Us?" she echoed, amusement curling at the edges of her voice. "You and me? In the same category? Bold assumption, Drake."

Carlton chuckled, unfazed, settling back like she had just complimented him instead of pushed back. "Yes, us. You’re sharp. You don’t accept things as they are. You challenge, you question—you stand apart from the ordinary."

This date wasn’t an escape and her regrets are creeping in now. It was a suffocating performance—one where she was expected to nod in approval as Carlton monologued about innovation and human frailty like he was some messianic figure destined to reshape existence itself.

She nearly rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. Sure. I completely understand the God-complex thing. Very relatable."

The billionaire didn't flinch, but his amused expression tightened just slightly. "You enjoy pushing buttons," he observed.

"You're not going to cry, are you?" She smirked.

"No, I like the challenge and I like you."

"Right," Izzy muttered, finally shifting her posture, resting her elbow against the table. "And you genuinely think this conversation is working for you? That I’m sitting here, having some grand realization about how my potential is untapped without the guiding hand of Carlton Drake?"

His lips parted slightly, just enough for Izzy to know she had caught him off guard—but only for a second. He recovered quickly, leaning in. "That depends," he said smoothly. "Am I wrong?"

Izzy smirked, shaking her head slowly. "You know, Drake, you talk like you’re selling me something, when really, all I see is you selling yourself. If this is your idea of flirting, I gotta say—it's innovative. I'll give you that."

Her no bullshit remark earned a chuckle from him, genuinely entertained, but there was something sharper in his expression now—like she had unsettled him in a way he wasn’t used to. He was not used to people being straight up honest with him since the people around him often bowed down to THE Carlton Drake.

Her phone buzzed again in her bag.

Eddie.

Izzy glanced down, barely long enough to register the vibration, but it was enough. Enough to remind her exactly why she had come here in the first place—why she had agreed to sit across from Carlton Drake, indulging in his carefully constructed philosophies like they could somehow take her mind off what she really wanted.

She lifted her gaze back to Carlton, who was still watching her like she was a puzzle piece he was trying to slot into place.

"You were saying?" she prompted.

Carlton smiled, regaining control. "I was saying that some people waste their potential."

Izzy smirked, picking up her glass again. "Yeah?" She took a slow sip, gaze flicking downward to her bag.

"Tell me about it."

The moment Carlton disappeared down the hallway, Izzy exhaled, sinking slightly into her chair, finally untangling herself from the weight of his presence. She barely hesitated before reaching for her bag, fingers slipping inside to pull out her phone.

Unsurprisingly—Eddie.

She unlocked the screen, scrolling through his texts, each one carrying his unmistakable tone—affection woven between sarcasm, humor laced with something heavier, something unspoken.

"Knight, seriously. Are you enjoying this? Like genuinely? Or is this one of those things where you’re just being stubborn?"

"Just a reminder that you could’ve spent tonight with someone far less insufferable. Someone, say, me."

Izzy smirked, shaking her head slightly. Eddie—jealous. Not in a dramatic way. Not in a possessive way. Just in a way that meant he felt her absence, felt her choosing to be elsewhere. Felt it enough to text her all night about it. She barely had time to register the way her fingers had moved—tapping his number, pressing call—before Eddie’s voice exploded through the speaker.

"Knight! Finally decided to admit this was the worst idea ever? Took you long enough!"

She flinched slightly, pulling the phone a fraction away from her ear, heat creeping up her neck. He was too much. Too Eddie. And maybe that’s why, without hesitation, she said—

"Pick me up."

Silence. Just for a beat. Then—

"Wait. Wait. Are you serious? Like actually serious? You want me to swoop in and save you from your billionaire dinner date?"

Izzy exhaled sharply, rubbing her fingers against her temple. "Eddie. Just—get here. Now."

She heard movement on his end—keys grabbing, jacket rustling, like he was already moving before she even finished speaking.

"Knight, stop fucking with my head and send me your location. Don’t move. I’m on my way. And for the record, I told you this would suck."

Izzy closed her eyes briefly, gripping her phone before dropping it back into her bag. She hated it when he's right. Once again, the emergency contact was on his way to her. When she looked up, Carlton was already making his way back, posture composed, gaze sharp. His eyes flickered toward her phone.

"Something urgent?" he asked smoothly, settling into his chair.

Izzy merely smirked, lifting her glass to her lips, hiding the curve of a knowing grin.

"Nothing at all, Drake. Nothing at all."

Eddie has not said much when he opened the car door for his best friend. The look he gave was enough to let her know he was not happy about this. His right hand gripped on the steering wheel while the other massaged his temples. Saving her from numerous troubling occassions was one thing he did not mind and actually loved doing, but this was different. He was not delighted at all.

"So. Drake, huh?" Eddie’s voice was low, measured, but Izzy didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed slightly against the wheel.

She barely looked at him. "What’s your problem, Brock?"

"My problem?" He scoffed, knuckles tightening against the leather. "My problem is you sitting across from Drake like—" He cut himself off, biting down on the frustration pooling in his chest.

"Like what?" Izzy pushed, crossing one leg over the other, her posture unreadable. "Like he’s got a shot at me?"

Eddie flinched slightly but didn’t back down. "Did he?"

She smirked, shaking her head. "You really don’t like the thought of it."

He let out a dry laugh, adjusting his grip on the wheel. "No. I don’t."

Izzy exhaled, shifting in her seat, but for the first time, Eddie wasn’t letting her control the conversation. Wasn’t waiting for her to dictate how this played out.

"Funny," she murmured, "considering how busy you’ve been lately."

He gritted his teeth before speaking. "You think I forgot about you? That I don’t want to be there?"

Izzy didn’t respond immediately, but she didn’t have to. He glanced at her briefly, voice lower now. "You know better than that."

"You’re jealous."

Eddie huffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, Knight. I fucking am. And you knew that before you ever agreed to sit across from him."

She didn’t deny it. Didn’t push back like usual. Instead, she leaned into the seat, gaze flickering back to the road, the tension shifting, stretching, changing. He was having none of her antics.

"You don’t get to ignore me for days," Eddie said. "and then throw Drake in my face like it’s just some harmless distraction."

"Well, don’t you have that figured out."

"You’re being a brat, Knight."

Her eyebrows shot up, her posture shifting as she turned fully toward him. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," Eddie said, his voice firmer now, his dominance creeping into the space between them. "You’re mad at me, fine. But don’t act like sitting across from Drake was anything other than you trying to get under my skin."

Her emotions inside chest was messy, tangled in a thousand things she wouldn’t say. And yet, what did slip past her lips was—

"I hate you."

It was quiet. Deliberate. Not loud, not angry—but heavy enough to land between them with force.

"No, you don’t." Eddie said, shaking his head, evidently amused.

"I do."

"No, you don’t," he repeated, voice lower now, steadier. She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze steady, challenging, but Eddie didn’t back down. "You don’t get to play games with me, Izzy. Not like this."

It was late. Eddie’s car drove passed the Golden Gate Bridge, the city fading in the rearview mirror, and Izzy didn’t ask where they were going. She didn’t need to. His infotainment screen lit up—a call from Anne. His jaw clenched as he glanced at it, his thumb pressing a button in his steering wheel to silence the notification without a word and the call disappeared.

Izzy stayed quiet. Eddie wasn’t talking, wasn’t throwing sarcastic remarks between them like he usually did. He was pissed, and she wasn’t sure if he was dragging her off somewhere to yell at her or just to get far enough away from everything else so he could think. The drive stretched longer than she expected, past familiar streets, past anything close to home, until the city melted into darkened roads and towering trees.

Muir Woods.

Eddie pulled into a quiet clearing, cutting the engine abruptly. He shoved the door open, stepping out with enough force and closed his car door with a loud thud. Izzy exhaled, checked her phone. Barely a signal. She glanced outside, watching Eddie pace for a second before he turned sharply, pulling open the passenger door, eyes burning with something sharp, something raw. She shifted in her seat, exhaling slowly as she unfastened her seatbelt, then swung both legs outward, testing the space beyond the open passenger door, feeling the cool air pressed against her skin underneath her dress.

But before she could fully step out, Eddie moved—quick, deliberate. He crouched down, knees bent, forearms resting against her thighs as he settled directly in front of her, blocking her way. His gaze, dark and steady, locked onto hers from beneath his furrowed brows, forcing her to meet it. She tilted her head slightly, lips pressing into a thin line.

“You gonna let me out, Brock?”

“Not yet.”

She smirked, leaning back slightly, resting her arm against the head of the passenger seat. “So what’s the plan here? You gonna lecture me while I sit pretty in your car?”

Eddie exhaled sharply, eyes burning with something sharp, something he hadn’t decided how to let out yet. He shook his head, gaze flickering across her face. “You’ve been pushing, Knight. Hard. And now, you're gonna sit pretty alright.”

Her breath hitched when he took both her legs, swung them over his shoulders, and hitched up her dress towards her hips before gripping it around her thighs. His lips trailed a mix of hot kisses and gentle yet aggressive bites on her inner thighs, trailing upwards towards her slit, making her moan. She shifted her weight, her elbows coming to rest on the center console, propping herself up as she leaned her hips towards his face. He agonizingly kissed and ate his way up her thighs, leaving faint marks here and there, his nose and mouth deliberately hovering against her now soaking wet lace panties. The sight of her slowly getting worked up was hot, and he could feel his cock getting harder inside his pants.

"Eddie... stop teasing.."

He looked up to her, his lips still teasingly warmly kissing the skin between her inner thigh and the folds of her cunt, panties still intact. His fingers running through the hem of it. He hummed in response, enjoying seeing her plead.

"Don't you wanna be good for me?" He breathed through the fabric separating her wet lips from his. His index finger already tugging the hem of it down, ready to remove it. Her hips shifting towards him, she was aching for his touch. He let out a low chuckle when he heard her whisper "please". Slowly, he removed the lace fabric from her, admiring her glistening cunt, all for him. His face hovered away to see her face, her lips all swollen and red from biting them herself. Her legs fell from his shoulders when he got up; his left hand gripped her thighs to keep them spread out for him.

"My baby looks so pretty desperate for me.." he murmured, meeting her desperate gaze with his delighted one. His thumb reached out to swipe on her bottom lip and slowly slipped inside her mouth; her eyes widened when he told her to "suck". She thought, what the hell has gotten into her puppy dog?

"I said suck." He sternly said, furrowing his brows at her. Eddie was not playing. Not anymore. He gave her a small smile when she started obeying and sucked his thumb, realizing her pleasure was all in his hands. Her legs are still spread wide in front of the large, looming trees and dark skies. He removed his thumb from her lips with a pop, still wet from her saliva, and it went straight to massage her clit, making her head tilt back, moaning about how good he's making her feel. His index and middle finger ran through her drenched folds, teasing her entrance.

"Stop playing, Eddie." Izzy hissed, glaring at him. Feeling his fingers rubbing against her clit and folds, she leaned forward slightly, her elbows still propped on the center console. "You’re pissed. I get it. You’ve been unavailable for days. What did you expect me to do?"

His other hand gripped tightly against her thigh, his voice dropping lower while his other hand playing with her, making her groan in both pleasure and frustration. "I expected you to act like you know where we stand. Like you know what this is. Instead, you go out with Drake just piss me off."

Her posture shifted, confidence wavering just slightly under the weight of his words. Eddie wasn’t following her lead anymore. He wasn’t letting her dominate the space between them.

"You don’t get to play games with me," he continued, his tone firm, unyielding. "Not like this. Not when you know damn well how I feel about you."

It was an admission. His two fingers slowly pushed inside her, curling it towards the front of her body. Eddie fucking Brock scolding her while his fingers are fucking her. Slowly, tormentingly, infuriatingly well.

"You want my attention?" Eddie leaned in further, voice steady, commanding. "You have it. But don’t pretend you don’t know how I feel about you. Don’t act like this was just some harmless rebellion, some casual night out. You wanted me to react."

Izzy tilted her head, lips parting slightly, letting another moan escape from her; she wanted to push back. She always pushed. She always had the upper hand. But Eddie wasn’t following her lead this time. His fingers deep inside her, curling and thrusting inside, his pace increasing bit by bit. She was unable to speak; she was drowning in his words and how good he made her feel. Eddie knew she would not shut up and back down normally. Well, this was a way to tame the wildcard.

"You hate me?" Eddie said, and there was something darker in his tone now—amusement, challenge, certainty. "Nah, Izzy. You hate how much I matter to you. You hate that no matter what dumb move you pull, no matter who you sit across from, you still end up here. With me."

With that, he got down on her. His fingers were still fucking her well when his lips captured her folds. His tongue gently flicking her clit repeatedly. All the talk she was able to give was his name in the form of a moan. He was eating her out so well, she started feeling her stomach build up to her orgasm.

"Oh god... Eddie..." she moaned. Her legs were quivering when she climaxed and became a squirting mess. Eddie continued to clean her sensitive pussy out. She was a mess. A breathless, panting mess. Just when she thought it was all over, he pulled her by her knees. She was still in her haze when her eyes found him with his pants already down to his ankles, his hands dripping with her cum, pumping himself. He then rubbed the tip of his cock against her cunt.

"I'm not fucking done with you yet, baby."

She was aching for him, losing it when he was slapping his shaft against her clit. But Eddie was not backing down. Not tonight. While standing in front of his best friend, who was helplessly sprawled in the passenger seat, her elbows supporting her against the leather seat, he glanced down at her. His eyes locked onto hers, jaw tight, every muscle in his body coiled with frustration. She had been pushing, testing, and waiting to see if he would crack—but she had underestimated just how far he was willing to go now that he had caught up.

"Say it." he commanded, positioning his tip in her entrance.

Izzy tilted her head slightly, gaze sharp, unwavering. "Say what exactly?"

He huffed a short laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t play dumb, Iz. Say you’re mine."

She did not budge; instead, she pushed her hips upward, towards him, so his cock entered hers. His brow raised as he slid inside her, raw. Grabbing her waist, he bucked his hips, snapping in and out of her. Fuck, it feels so good.

"Fucking impatient as always, baby." he grunted, thrusting into her. Her head is now resting on the console while half of her body is exposed outside his car.

Eddie needed to hear it.

Not just because he wanted the win, not just because Izzy had been driving him insane for days, pressing every button, pulling every string to make him feel something. No—he needed to hear her say it because, for all her stubborn defiance, for all the ways she pushed and tested, she never said it first.

She’d taunt. She’d smirk. She’d act like it was all a game, like their relationship did not mean as much to her. She never gave him anything. Never let herself be vulnerable enough to say something without her usual armor.

And Eddie—he had spent too long letting her set the pace, letting her dictate the rules. Tonight, that ended.

His pace continued. It was their first time having raw sex again after she got her shot. He felt her, all of her. He was not rushing, they were not concerned about the noises they made, the crying moans escaping; it was just them. His fingers gently held her jaw to make her look at him while he plunged in and out of her, his eyes filled with anticipation.

It wasn’t fear—not of him, not of the words—but of the power shift, of the surrender wrapped in admitting something she had always left implied but never spoken. Eddie wanted her caught in it. Wanted her to stop pretending that what they had was just something she could toy with when it suited her. He wanted her to say it—own it—without the safety net of sarcasm or deflection.

"I-I'm yours, Eddie..." she breathed, feeling her stomach coil again. The words came quiet, deliberate, raw in a way she didn’t usually let herself be. She was vulnerable at the moment, honest and raw.

He was overwhelmed by both the physical and emotionally charged atmosphere between them, so much so that he was closing in as well. He leaned inside his car, his rhythm still ongoing, giving her a deep, lingering kiss as Izzy looped her arms around his neck, returning each one with as much fevor until they both came together.

Eddie exhaled, satisfied, pushing his cock deeper inside her, ensuring she felt every bit of his drippings. Now that she had said it, there was no turning back. No undoing it.

"My back fucking hurts, Brock," Izzy groaned, her voice carrying that playful edge that always managed to cut through the thickest tension. She shifted slightly in her seat, pouting dramatically as she leaned back against the center console, her elbows propped up like she was making herself at home in his frustration.

Eddie’s lips twitched, the corner of his mouth betraying the faintest hint of a smile. He tried to hold onto his anger, tried to keep the fire burning, but Izzy had this way of disarming him—of melting through his defenses with nothing more than a look, a word, a perfectly timed pout. He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leaned closer, his earlier outrage dissipating like smoke in the cool night air.

"I'm sorry, baby..." he muttered, his voice softer now, less sharp, as his fingers brushed her hair away from her face, his thumb grazing her cheek as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Isobel Knight had this way of pulling him back, of reminding him why he cared so much, why he couldn’t stay mad even when he wanted to. She could unravel him with a single word, a single look, and Eddie—he didn’t mind. Not really.

Just for tonight, they took a detour—away from the weight of his wedding preparations, the tangled mess waiting to pull them back. Reality could press in tomorrow, but for now, under the redwood forest, quiet and unhurried, giving them the space to exist as they were. Only for tonight.

Next Part

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #eddie brock #venom #eddie brock x you #eddie brock x fem!oc #eddie brock fanfiction #eddie brock fanfic #smut #eddie brock smut #eddie brock x reader #venom fanfiction #venom fanfic #venom smut #tom hardy smut #fanfiction smut #fluff

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brodygold · 6 months ago

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The Lecture

Bruce slid into his usual seat in the front row of the lecture hall, noting his best friend, Sawyer, already there. Sawyer was hunched over his desk, rearranging his meticulously organized notes. His wide-rimmed glasses slid down his nose as he adjusted his pocket protector, crammed full of pens in every color imaginable. The faint glow of his acne-covered cheeks highlighted his enthusiasm.

Bruce set his worn-out bag on the floor and pulled out his trusty notebook, a favorite blue pen, and his lucky number 2 pencil. He also placed two highlighters—yellow and green—on the desk for easy access. He and Sawyer exchanged quick grins, ready for another one of Dr. Hanson's legendary physics lectures.

"I heard we're talking about quantum particles today!" Sawyer whispered excitedly, the grin on his face wide enough to show his braces.

"Poggers, Sawyer! I've been waiting for this since the semester started," Bruce replied, his voice buzzing with equal enthusiasm.

While Bruce didn't sport Sawyer's stereotypical nerdy look, he had his own geeky charm—a mop of unkempt blonde hair that fell past his shoulders, a pair of noise-canceling headphones permanently dangling around his neck, and a gamer’s gut, nurtured by too many late-night snack breaks. They were an inseparable pair, their shared passion for science and gaming solidifying their bond.

As the rest of the lecture hall filled, a hush fell over the room when the door banged open. A young man, probably in his late 20s, strolled confidently to the podium. His athletic build was hard to miss under a tight gold jersey, the fabric hugging his broad chest and biceps.

"Hey there bros. You all can call me Mr. Gold. Or Brody if you're feeling more casual."

Sawyer shot his hand up. "Mr. Gold, where is Mr. Hanson? He didn't say anything about missing class today."

"Great question, bro. I actually ran into him on his way to class and we had a nice chat. We both decided it might be good for me to give a guest lecture today while he runs some errands." Mr. Gold took the opportunity to write the title of the lecture on the board:

The Physics of Football

"Ew. Sports." Bruce thought.So much for quantum particles. He didn't even like playing video games about sports, and now they were forced to learn about the "math and science" behind it all? He wondered if he should just get up and leave, but he was sitting in the front and everyone would see him. Might as well just sit and listen to what Mr. Gold had to say.

"Now it might sound strange to you nerds, but there's actually a lot of math involved in sports. The players may be too dumb to do the calculations in their head, but they're there. Let's go over an example."

Mr. Gold turned around and started drawing on the board. It was easy to see it was one football player throwing the ball to another.

"Let's say that during the play, the QB wants to throw the ball to the wide receiver. Thanks to forces like gravity, the ball will eventually land. The tricky part is getting the ball to land in the receiver's hands. Let's say he throws the ball and the two are 70 yards apart. What shape is the path of the ball?"

Pfft. That was an easy question. Bruce went to put his hand up and give the answer, when his mind suddenly went blank. He knew they'd just covered this exact topic in his calc class, but nothing came to mind besides "curve." He tugged at the collar of his button down, feeling uncomfortable in it all of a sudden.

"Anyone? Guess we have a bunch of dumb jocks in this class." Mr. Gold let out a chuckle. "The answer is 'parabola.' The ball travels in a parabola from the quarterback to the receiver. Now let's just say the equation representing the parabola is as follows." He turned back around and wrote a relatively simple equation on the board.

"Now obviously the dumb jock isn't going to know what the equation is when he throws the ball. He just goes off of instinct and practice. But there's so much we can figure out from knowing the exact equation. For example, we can figure out when the ball hits the ground. Any idea how we might do that?"

Bruce scoffed. Another easy question. You just sent the equation equal to zero and... and... damn it! This was supposed to be so simple to a nerd like him! His mind felt like it was slowing down. Though the football example was making more sense now. He was getting a bit invested in it and could see Sawyer was too, the other nerd having taken off his glasses to better pay attention.

"You bros really are dumb jocks, huhu." This time some of the guys in the class laughed along, their voices seeming deeper than Bruce remembered. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up all night binging that new space documentary series. "Let's work through it together nice and slow. We set the equation equal to zero like so. Then we just need to solve for x. Simple algebra at this point. Why don't we try it ourselves and see what we get?"

Bruce tried to solve the equation in his notebook, but he found it harder to hold the pencil. His hands almost seemed meatier than they should be. His grey t-shirt felt great though. Nice and tight, just how he liked it! But seriously, who would ever need to know this stuff? Like Mr. Gold said, it's all instinct and practice anyway!

"Alright bros. Did any of my dumb jocks get the answer? You should have gotten 6 seconds. By the blank looks on your faces, it seems you all may be a bit too dumb for this. I was going to ask if any of you remembered how derivatives worked, but why don't we all go throw the ball around outside instead?"

Bruce let out a yell of approval with all the other jocks in the class. He turned to look at his best bro Sawyer and gave the hot jock a fist bump,. Who cared about any of this nerd crap anyway? He looked at the golden jersey he was wearing with pride. The Golden Army was his home, through and through. He was just in school to get a sports management degree and work full time for the best team ever made!

Mr. Gold smiled at the cheers. "Excellent. Class dismissed."

#golden army #thegoldenteam #golden team #male transformation #jockification #jock tf #male tf #football tf #mass hypnosis #male hypnosis

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beekeeperspicnic · 1 year ago

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Visiting Fulworth

Today @jeremys-come-to-bed-eyes and I went on something that I might have been classified as a "research trip" for The Beekeepers Picnic, if it had happened a few years ago! As it is, there's no hiding that it was just a geeky fan trip.

I didn't invent the idea of Holmes retiring to keep bees in a village called Fulworth - it gets alluded to a few times in the stories, and there is one story set there, 'The Lion's Mane'.

We know Holmes' retirement home is either a 'cottage' or a 'villa', it's a few miles out of Eastbourne, and it's clearly somewhere where it's possible to walk to the sea for a swim. Sherlockian tradition is that the real-life place fitting this description is the village of East Dean.

So, that's where we went - walking from Eastbourne.

This area is famous for it's white chalk cliffs, which are eroding away very quickly. Here is a path to nowhere!

These cliffs are known as the Seven Sisters. They all have names but the only two I remember are Short Bottom and Rough Bottom.

The beach there is all pebbles - I knew that when creating my game, but I felt like a pebble beach just wouldn't look right all in pixels, so I made it sandy instead.

East Dean is absolutely gorgeous, basically everything I could have hoped for.

Here is the village green - flying a Ukrainian flag in solidarity!

And here is Mr Holmes' official cottage. As far as we could tell its now an office of the local estate rather than someone's house, so we didn't feel too weird taking lots of pictures! The Lions Mane implies his cottage is a little way out of the village, but I'll forgive them for putting it in the centre instead.

(I think that the dates are obviously the dates he lived there as recorded by his biographer - our last information on Holmes is from 1917. I think they made the right call not to try to invent a date for his death.)

A lot of the cottages in the area have this really distinctive mixture of pebbles and brick which I think must be a hallmark of the local area, but I was pleased to see a few whitewashed buildings like the ones I put in the game:

Thank you for reading, please enjoy this adorable foal.

#the beekeeper's picnic #sherlock holmes #sussex retirement #sussex cottage

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thefusioncelestial · 8 months ago

Text

Mix 13: A Geeky Bulk

Anonymous asked:

I am a chubby and hairy American Guy who is a little on the geeky side of life. I love Jamar Pusch's pecs and how he can make them bounce. Could you merge us please?

For the uninitiated, for those going the natural route of being big & cut at the same time comes in two cycles; the bulk and the cut.

The bulk is when the user focuses on gaining mass, and that means an big calorie intake. That means covering that coveted slab of visible muscles; the abs. But while they join the population of bears, the muscles, when paired with exercise, encourages muscle growth with the building blocks just sitting there.

The cut? Think of it as revealing the results. You go in the opposite direction on calorie & fatty intake and bask in the results. Continuous use of this basic method is how the skinny kid becomes the long lost cousin of Captain America.

Here is one dude who does this:

Jamar Pusch.

Worked his butt off to get that look. You would swear that he was sculpted rather than built up.

Unbeknownst to himself, he is the target of that infamous group we call the prowlers. In this case, a father who wants to give was Jamar has to his wimpy son. You would think that with all the money in the world that he could just pay for the best trainers & dieticians, but many wealthy people can be illogical & demanding.

He procured a bottle of red liquid. All he has to do is pour on the target, and have the one who attends to assimilate touch them.

Jamar is finishing a typical photo-shoot, the best result will go on his Instagram, the rest to whoever he dms. The man is looking for love like the rest us.

His shoot has been infiltrated, a couple of payments here & there under the table, and the father and son arrive to the location using the new info. There are other people there admiring the modern day Adonis. The duo poses as fans. The event concludes, and Jamar goes to a trailer he rented for use for a nearby music cultural event, and the duo follows him.

There is a knock on the door. He opens and sees the father & son standing there gleaming. The son has a nervous energy about him, but Jamar pushes this away as a nervous fan. He beckons them into his trailer for a private supervised one on one meet & greet, and they obliged him.

The father was more excited than the son. Maybe the son was just getting introduced to this world to inspire him to workout? How fatherly.

Unknown to all three of them, a third fan was just out of earshot in the area. He saw this as an opportunity, goes to the trailer as well. The door is unlocked. He goes in, but what he sees angers & shocks him.

Jamar sits the pair down and offers them drinks.

They accept.

The father sees this as his chance.

He uncorks the bottle and splashes the contents on Jamar. He turns around to protest, but soon he freezes up like a statue. The only thing he could do is plead & scream in protest.

"I must thank you Mr. Pusch, I appreciate what you are about to do for my son. He is about to go to college, and I find he will have a better time if he can "hang" with the physically gifted type. Tell me, what sports are you into," he asked in a jubilant manner that turned stern.

His son looked nervous. The father glanced over with a frown at his son.

"Hopefully you will give him your confidence too, I tried so hard to instill courage into him, but his mother may have babied him a bit too much. No matter, let's get this over with," he said.

"Charlie, go shake Mr. Pusch's hand," he said.

The young man walked over silently. Jamar tried his best to move but couldn't. He then saw something. Hope.

The silent fan who came over saw all of this in the trailer. His mouth was agape. Was Jamar about to get kidnapped or worse killed? His anger took over. He dropped his phone that he was going to use to get pictures, and ran over to the father.

The shock of an intruder made the father's heart stop and blood freeze. Was he caught by security? The person coming over was a large man after all. By the time he registered to do something else and than wish for laser beam eyes, he was knocked over.

The son too was shocked at this. He moved his hand away from Jamar, and turned to his father.

Truth be told, he didn't want to change like this. He didn't want to steal someone else's body to appease his father or anyone else for that matter. If he was going to change, it was going to be on his terms. What Charlie wanted to do right now was save his father.

He found his courage.

He ran over, and with an adrenaline boost peeled the large man off his father and shoved him away. But he pushed him in the direction of Jamar.

He crashed into Jamar, and it began.

Surprisingly, Jamar didn't fall over or collapse. He just sort of absorbed the impact. For the large fan, it was like jumping into a combination of marshmallow & quicksand. His body sinked further into Jamar until all there was left was just Jamar.

Jamar cocked his head back & began to shift.

Mentally, Jamar was in this fan's head space. He was getting assimilated by him. Jamar & this fan talked it out. Explaining things from their perspective and then uniting under one cause of escaping from these crazy people. Jamar also convinced him to let him drive the wheel. He sensed that whatever was happening was a done deal, and he would be better steered to handle whatever they are about to become. The mind space inverted. They were in Jamar's mind. The fan broke down into confetti and merged into Jamar. It was time to kick some ass.

In flipping the mind merge, Jamar was able to reverse the physical merge process. The fan would upgrade him.

He let out a soft moan. His body began to quiver & shudder.

His skin grew softer as layers of fat grew all over.

"Hmm."

A warmth washed over stomach, each wave an inch of fat covering his abs.

There was rustling in his pants. His rod grew longer and strained against the tight pants. He grunted and then chuckled.

His neck bulged out & his head lengthened.

His facial features shifted, bigger eyes, smaller lips. A slightly more upturned nose. He kept his ears. His hair shortened.

He took on a darker skin tone as well, but soon after hair began to grow throughout his body.

He opened his eyes. The father & son were shocked by what they saw.

The father snapped out and commanded Charlie to touch the fused Jamar, but nothing happened. One pair per dose, and the father used all of it in one go.

He gave the father a beating. He had to change himself and consume someone else because some jack rabbit of a father wanted a shortcut. Security came in after seeing the trailer move a bit, and apprehended the pair.

The father was charged with attempted kidnapping later on.

The son wasn't a total wash and Jamar would mentor the young man.

As for Jamar, his life trajectory changed. The fan that saved him, was a part of him now, imparted some interesting interests. With the connections he built up, Jamar went into acting; doing mo-cap & voice acting for video games, one of which involved a galaxy far far away. He is having a blast too:

In time Jamar would deal with layers on his stomach. He has been here before many times. He just fast tracked a bulk cycle. Time for the cut.

Wait, did that water bottle move by itself?

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metallicaislife · 2 years ago

Text

Meet and Greet

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: 1,536

Genre: 18+ Smut minors dni

Warnings: protected sex, oral(f and m receiving), swearing

The sun beat down on me as I waited in line. As soon as I heard Metallica was coming to my city, you bet I snatched a ticket so fast, and paid extra for the meet and greet. It didn’t matter that none of my friends were interested in the band, nothing was going to stop me from coming even if it meant I was going alone.

I was surprised that I got there before the band did. I watched as their bus pulled up, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the door as it opened. The first member off of the bus was Kirk, he has been my favorite since I got into the band. He’s geeky, and proud of it, he just seems like the sweetest guy. His looks take my breath away, seeing him in person is so much better than the glimpses I've gotten on the television. His mop of curly dark hair, and deep brown eyes. Perfect.

Our eyes met as he walked past, and he smiled. Kirk fucking Hammett perceived me with his eyeballs and smiled. I could die right now and still be the happiest woman alive.

The rest of the guys walked past and waved saying hi to their fans. I was still on cloud nine just thinking about the smile from Kirk.

Not long after they got there, the line started moving and the meet and greet began. When it was my turn for the one on ones, I talked to Cliff first, he was really kind, even though I could see he would rather meet fans in the wild instead of this sort of setting, but now they were blowing up and not playing small venues, that is a bit harder, so I’m grateful they are doing this meet and greet. Lars was next, and he was super funny. He talked my ear off about how excited he was for this tour and thanked me for coming. James had to tell him to shut his trap so the line could keep going, which brought me to James, super sweet guy. Like Cliff, this wasn’t his jam, maybe if it was the fan just talking to the whole group instead of the one on one, he would flourish a little more, he was delightful to chat with though. Kirk was last in line, I could feel my heartbeat picking up, just like out in line our eyes met and he smiled at me.

“Hey, I’m Kirk.” He said, giving me a small wave. I introduced myself and mirrored his wave. He let out a soft chuckle.

“Thanks for coming out, we really appreciate our fans, we wouldn’t be where we are without you all.” He said.

“No, thank you for sharing your talent with us, my life wouldn’t be the same without your insane guitar riffs.” I complimented him. His grin widened.

“You’re too kind, and cute too. I don’t know if my heart can handle such compliments from a woman like you.” He winked. I could feel my cheeks heating up. “I don’t do this often, and believe me that isn’t a line, but here,” He said and reached in his back pocket and sneakily handed me a pass. “Our time is short here, but meet me backstage after the show.” He finished. In utter shock, I pocketed the pass and nodded.

“Will do, Mr. Hammett.” I said, starting to feel more confident. Kirk smirked at me and we parted ways.

Okay, keep it together. Yes, I just had my main character moment but I had to keep my head on planet earth. After the show could go many ways, but the most likely scenario had me clenching my thighs at the thought.

Preoccupied with my thoughts, time passed fast, before I knew it, the show started. I was at the barricade on Kirk’s side. I know I already said it, but the tv screen does not do that man justice. He was so sexy on stage, lost in his playing. He kept looking my way and would smirk as I screamed along to the music.

Needless to say the show was abso-fucking-lutely phenominal and I knew right then and there any time they come to play I would be purchasing a ticket.

When the show finished, I confidently made my way backstage. Well, I was confident until I passed security and had no earthly idea where to go. I must have looked like a lost puppy as I stood awkwardly unsure if I should just start knocking on doors, because no way in hell would I give up whatever opportunity I was given by Kirk.

“Hey, you’re the girl from the meet and greet.” A voice called out. I turned around and was met with Cliff, who had a smirk gracing his lips.

“Uh, yeah, I am.” I replied.

“Loverboy’s dressing room is that one over there.” He said and pointed to the only door off to the side.

“Thank you, Cliff.” I said, he nodded and moseyed off to his own dressing room.

I made my way to Kirk’s dressing room and knocked. He poked his head out soon after, and smiled when he saw me.

“Come on in.” He said opening the door wider. My eyes widened slightly seeing he was sweaty and shirtless already. I entered and he shut the door behind me.

“You played really well tonight.” I told him.

“Again, the prettiest woman with the compliments, I don’t know if my heart can handle it.” He said, placing his hand over his heart. I giggled. “Can I get you some water or beer?” He asked.

“I’m fine, thanks.” I said. I wrung my hands together, the confidence leaving my body unsure of where this encounter would take us. I mean, I know what I wanted, but if I read the situation wrong I would absolutely die of embarrassment. Kirk noticed my hands and reached out stilling them.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just thought you were gorgeous, and had good vibes.” He said reassuringly.

“Oh I definitely want to, unless you don’t want to, I just wanted to make sure I read the situation right.” I said. Kirk chuckled.

“I definitely want to.” He replied.

“So it would be okay if I kissed you?” I asked softly.

“More than okay.” He whispered back.

I closed my eyes, our lips met softly as we wrapped our arms around one another. The kiss grew heated as he backed me into the couch and helped me lay down. He kissed my neck and left a mark. All reservations were gone as my hands wandered his body. He undressed me. My back arched as he I found his tongue to be just as skilled as his fingers.

“Oh my god, Kirk…” I moaned out. I gripped his hair tightly and he hummed against my pussy. He used two fingers to bring me over the edge. My voice already hoarse from the concert. As I came down from my orgasm I noticed his boxers were removed. He stood next to my head and I positioned myself so I could take his dick in my mouth. I darted my tongue out liking the tip before letting him slide into my mouth. I hollowed out my cheeks as he began thrusting softly. Tears entered my eyes as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. He picked up the pace and had his hand in my hair as he helped me meet his thrusts. I could feel him getting closer to his high. He stopped and pulled out of my mouth, he found a condom and rolled it on before climbing back on top of me. His lips found mine in a deep kiss as he sunk into me. His pace was relentless. He broke the kiss as my head fell back, I let out a hoarse scream. He bit my neck softly as his hand found my clit. He rubbed me as he continued rutting into me. I came a second time, the pleasure hazing my vision. Kirk came soon after and buried his forehead on my shoulder.

“Fuck that was so good.” Kirk muttered.

After we cooled down, He helped me clean up and we got dressed.

“I probably ought to head out.” I said after gathering my things.

“I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said I don’t do this often, I know I’m in the middle of tour, but I want to see you again.” Kirk smiled at me.

“I would like that too.” I smiled back.

Kirk and I exchanged numbers and he walked me out to my car that was in the nearly empty lot. Kirk kissed me, and waved goodbye as I drove off.

Not only did I get to meet my favorite band, see them perform and have mind blowing sex with my celebrity crush… He wanted to see me again. Even if we don’t, I won’t kid myself, we live very different lives- I’ll be content knowing for one night I took the breath away from the man who has consistently stolen my breath since I saw his first interview.

Thank you for reading! :)

-Isa

#metallica x reader #metallica #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #metallica smut #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett #kirk hammett smut

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yzeltia · 2 months ago

Text

Year of the OTP May 2025

Title: We're Dating? Since When? Characters: Alisaie Leveilleur, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Ameliance Leveilleur, Jannie Eyradoux-Fortemps, Jullus pyr Norbanus, Fourchenault Leveilleur, Haurchefaunt Fortemps Rating: T Notes: Thanks to @just-a-geeky-therapist for beta reading A special dedication to @dapperpea for their stories about "the bench" that heavily influenced the final act of this chapter.

Alisaie's laughter roared through the Leveilleur estate near ceaselessly since the news of Jullus and Alphianud's accidental marriage had been brought to light. Alphinaud grimaced, not finding his surprise betrothal as amusing.

"Mr. Norbanus, don't pout. It's rude to our guests," Ameliance teased lightly before cooing at little Haurchefaunt in her arms while Jannie tried to hide a smile behind her teacup.

"Mother please," Alphinaud sighed, leaning against the arm of the couch, resting his cheek on his fist. "I would like for stages of my relationships to be a conscious effort just for once."

"It hardly ever works out that way," Jannie hummed, setting her cup on the saucer in her lap. "I didn't believe Artoriel had any inclinations toward me despite Violet and Rahn's insistence. It took years of correspondence before he started to sign his letters professing his affection and yearning in a way that convinced me that we'd developed a relationship."

"I didn't have the patience. I told Fourchenault exactly how I felt and gave him little room to abscond. We were married shortly after we graduated," Ameliance mused as she bounced Haurchefaunt on her leg.

"I feel that I inherited father's pacifism in that regard. I didn't even realise we were courting for some time, but hindsight it was rather obvious," Alphinaud said, ears turning a bit red.

Jannie looked up at Alphinaud as she reached out to take her son back from Ameliance as he started to slump with drowsiness. "Oh? I haven't heard the story."

"Neither have I," Ameliance echoed.

Alphinaud looked between his mother and the Warrior of Light then sighed, not having an excuse to make a get away. Sitting up, he folded his hands in his lap then sat back and looked up at the ceiling before starting on his story, "Well …it was shortly before my nineteenth name-day."

Alisaie jumped as a door slammed, the noise echoing through the makeshift cargo container, one of many converted into temporary housing for the Garleans during their recovery. While the house was intended her for her and Alphinaud, along with any other Scion guest that might come through, she'd grown accustom to staying alone, her brother often staying with Jullus and a few of his friends as of late. Peaking over the loft she made for herself, she watched as Alphinaud shrugged his snow covered coat off his shoulders and tossed it aside on his way to their kettle.

"Would you take it easy on the door? I know you're used to stomping around with the soldier boys now but there's no one here to show off your prowess too," Alisaie scolded from above, before getting up to join her brother in the tiny kitchenette afforded to them.

Alphinaud didn't answer, looking crossly toward the kettle as it started to heat up, not answering his sister's chiding with much more than an eye roll. Noting something was off, Alisaie leaned against a wall and shook her head. "Did you get in a row with one of the boys?"

"No!" Alphinaud said sharply, brow furrowed until seeing that his reaction caused his sister to be taken aback. "Sorry, I'm just a little perturbed by one of Jullus's friends."

Alisaie crossed her arms, sighing as she focused on the floor. "The usual anti-Eorzean rhetoric I take it?"

Alphinaud shook his head, removing the kettle from the flame before. His ears turned a bit pink as he started to pour hot water into two mugs. "No. I was helping with some maintenance on the aetheryte and happened to look up in time to find Jullus being embraced by a stranger, an ex-paramour. It was far beyond a simply display of public affection. He practically had his tongue down his throat!

"Jullus seemed rather annoyed by it himself. He attempted to introduce us but at some point I felt myself just leave until I found myself here. I don't know what came over me."

Alisaie knew exactly what had come over her brother; however, had been long reticent in telling him just what was happening between Jullus and him. She'd long had inklings of a romance brewing, but her brother had never admitted, at least to her, his feelings for their friend. It was all but confirmed in her mind, having spied Jullus kissing Alphinaud outside one night before they retired for the evening. And of course when Alphinaud started staying over with Jullus more frequently and at times finding them fast asleep in bed together only fuelled her appraisal.

To her, it was all but a certainty they were in love; however, she knew her brother all too well. If Alphinaud hadn't broadcast the relationship, then he was unaware he'd stumbled into one.

"Alphinaud. I want you to think hard on why that might have bothered you. Really hard," Alisaie said, turning to help divide sugar cubes between cups. "Do you think it could possibly be that they were engaged in something that you thought reserved for yourself?"

Alphinaud tilted his head. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Alisaie sighed, sipping at her tea. She went to question his line of thinking, but before she could get her inquiry out, their door flung open by a panting Jullus.

"Alphinaud…There you are…," Jullus breathed out, stumbling to get out of his boots. "I'm sorry about Decius! He's got a bit of a problem with boundaries."

"Clearly," Alphinaud said, not turning to greet Jullus, taking a deep drink of his tea in the meantime.

Alisaie crossed her arms as Jullus looked at her, both not saying a word until she scoffed and made her way back up into the loft. "Sort yourselves out, by all means. I'll just go upstairs and put my head under a pillow or something," she huffed, though with every bit of intention of eavesdropping.

With Alisaie out of view at the very least, Jullus stepped forward, hand resting on Alphinaud's shoulder. "Hey, you're not really mad are you? Like I said, Decius has boundary issues."

"I'm not mad…At least I don't think I am…," Alphinaud said, closing his eyes as he felt Jullus squeeze on his shoulder. He swallowed, trying to put into words what he was feeling, but he couldn't bring himself to describe the unfamiliar tightness he felt in his chest.

"Look, I get it. Some strange guy came up and kissed me, you've got every right to be hurt; but, I shoved him away didn't I? Decius is a piece of work. He was the type to mouth off to our commanding officer and get us all in trouble. Thought he was a hot shot because he was a brilliant engineer and his dad was some legatus. I admit, I had a brief thing for him…but I broke it off when I realised he was only thing he found interesting about me was my blue hair. Alphinaud, he's a total playboy. I don't have any feelings for him. You're the only one I'm interested in," Jullus assured Alphinaud.

Alphinaud nearly dropped his mug. He turned slowly, face crimson at the other's words. "Did I hear you right? That you're…"

Jullus blinked then moved back to sit on Alphinaud's bed, looking a bit pale. "Your…boyfriend? I know we haven't said the words but I thought-"

Alphinaud shook his head. "No. I didn't realise that's how you felt," he said before sitting down next to Jullus, looking down at their feet. His heart raced, starting to replay some of the things they'd said and done in the past few months. "By the Twelve…I was jealous back there. We've been courting and it's been absolutely lost on me."

There was a quick outburst of laughter from Alisaie above as she was proved right, quickly muffled by pillows. Jullus was quiet in the wake of Alphinaud's realisation, feeling his heart sink before feeling the other's foot gently rub over the top of his own. He swallowed then looked up, finding Alphianud's arms come around him and pull him back onto the bed. "So then, we're on the same page then?"

"I-I think so," Alphinaud said, hand wandering down to grab Jullus's hand in his own as their legs tangled. His heart fluttered, thinking on the nights where he'd curled up beside Jullus and fallen asleep listening to him breathe, both of them leaning against each other when idly chatting with their friends, and the times he'd admired how handsome and strong Jullus appeared to be. "Oh gods, I'm oblivious. It's all been there…I guess it felt so natural to me I didn't give it any greater thought."

Jullus laughed, reaching out to play with Alphinaud's braid. "That's hard to imagine. I've never met anyone who thinks about things as much as you do," he teased before, resting his forehead on Alphinaud's. "So then you're not cross about the kiss?"

"No. Though, I don't think I'll particularly care for your friend if he's going to kiss you again before we get our chance," Alphinaud said.

"Trust me. If I could send him off to the moon and be rid of him I would," Jullus sighed before pausing, realising that once more his boyfriend had missed the intent of his frequent goodnight kisses. He smiled, giving Alphinaud's hand a little squeeze. "I hope that chance comes soon."

"And, well…here we are two years later," Alphinaud sighed.

"You're so much like your father," Ameliance mused, rubbing Alphinaud's back.

"I'm not certain that's a compliment in this context," Alphinaud grumbled.

"What will you do? You're both so young. I'm sure you've yet to consider a way forward," Jannie said, holding Haurchefaunt over her shoulder as he started to doze.

Alphinaud nervously turned the bracelet Jullus had given him, face lightly flushed. "It happened all so fast. Father is with Jullus to see the full scope of the legality; however, it seems the Felicitous Furball and his island cohorts managed to have all the proper licensing. No doubt influenced by U'rahn."

"I don't think they're all that young. As loathe as I am to admit it, Alphinaud has grown into a fine young man and is only a year older than Fourchnault was when we decided to get married," Ameliance said, leaning forward to take a biscuit. "We were one of the few the survived 'The Maiden's Bench'".

"The Maiden's Bench?" Jannie inquired.

"It's a bench outside the Studium. It's sort of an unspoken tradition that couples meet there to discuss their relationship, propose, or more often than aught, end things. Thus the moniker from Menphina," Alphinaud explained.

"Poor Fourchnault's face when I took him there, he thought for sure I was going to break his heart," Ameliance hummed before looking at her son. "Whatever your decision is, your father and I will support it, though, we hope you'll have a formal ceremony if you decide to go forward. You very well might see U'rahn again as he works to make it up to me for allowing us to miss the initial one in the first place."

Alphinaud swallowed, "Where exactly did you send him for errands?"

"I loaned him to the Cosmic Exploring team for an indefinite amount of time," Ameliance answered before taking another biscuit.

"M-Mother! You can't just send the Warriors of Light off on random errands," Alphinaud protested.

"Really? He didn't seem like he intended to say no," Ameliance hummed.

Jannie felt herself shiver as the woman smiled at her son, a bit afraid of the power she wielded in her politeness. "Well. Haury here is out. I think we'll make our return home. Thank you for the tea and biscuits," she said standing then giving a light curtsy.

"As always, it's a pleasure to meet with you and little Haurchefaunt is always welcome to come for a stay," Ameliance said, "Something must tide me over until the boys figure out how they want to manage grandchildren for me to dote on."

"Mother," Alphinaud whined, hiding his face in his hands.

Jannie laughed as she left them in the parlour. As she made her exit, Fourchnault swept through with Jullus in tow. "Good luck," she said to the latter, gently giving him a little pat on the shoulder. "And congratulations, if you find the circumstances to be a blessing."

"Thanks," Jullus said firmly before following Fourchnault into join the others.

"It's completely legal. They went through all the necessary channels. Apparently on top of being ordained in every sect recognised in Eorzea, it's legally allowed to host third party arbitration, and notorize documentations across the alliance governments," Fourchnault said.

Alphinaud looked over to Jullus as he stood quietly beside his father, avoiding his gaze. His father seemed be keeping up his steal front as to not betray whatever he actually felt about the situation. "So then, I'm officially Alphinaud Norbanus then…"

"No. Jullus has been given the Leveilleur name," Fourchnault said, hands firmly resting on his wife's shoulder from behind. "He is one of us…if that is what you choose. We've got a strong case for an annulment otherwise, though it will take some paperwork."

Alphinaud watched as his mother gently reached up to put her hand over her husbands, both awaiting his answer; yet, he didn't have one. He knew he loved Jullus; however, he was unsure if that was enough. "Right then. I think, Jullus and I should talk on the matter," he said, standing.

"I think that is wise," Fourchnault said with a slight nod.

Ameliance reached out with her free hand to take Alphinaud's in her own. "Whatever your decision, we support it," she said before looking back to Jullus, "And you will be welcome here as a second son in that same vein. We want you both to be happy."

"As we are," Fourchnault said, looking down at his wife.

"Thank you," Jullus said, before finding Alphinaud wandering around the couch to collect him.

With a wave, the young couple left the parlour, deciding it was best to give themselves a little space from the estate as they both quietly mulled over what was on their minds. Winding through the stone paths of Old Sharlayan, they found themselves in the wooded area before the Studium. Spotting The Maiden's Bench free, Alphinaud swallowed and found himself taking Jullus to sit, inspired by his mother's words or perhaps out of a sense of tradition.

"So…we are truly married," Jullus said, putting his arm about the back of the bench. "Jullus Leveilleur doesn't exactly roll of the tongue."

"Will that even be recognised in Garlemald? I'm not sure we're exactly to the point of recognising foreign contracts," Alphinaud mused, leaning his head on Jullus's shoulder.

"Unsure, though if I started telling people to call me that I doubt there's be a fuss…well, perhaps a little bit of one for those unhappy about me marrying an Eorzean, especially a Leveilleur," Jullus said before frowning. "That said, we have a way out. If this isn't something you want?"

Alphinaud flushed, gripping at the hem of his shirt as he avoided the other's gaze. He could feel his heart beat in his ears. The act itself was already done. They were wed, but it still felt scary to say aloud. "I love you…but…," he started, feeling Jullus pull away from him in the wake.

"Right. No. We were just being silly," Jullus said gruffly, pressing his thumb against the larimar in his bracelet.

Alphinaud held himself, looking away from Jullus, moving his wrist so that his own bracelet would roll again this ribs. "I did not say no. I just said 'but'."

"Nothing good comes after a 'but'," Jullus growled.

Alphinaud scoffed, "That is not universally true."

"Then what were you possibly going to follow that up with that would be good?"

Alphinaud hung his head for a moment then turned back to Jullus. "Alright, perhaps you have me there. Would you settle for bittersweet?"

"Maybe," Jullus mumbled.

"Alright. As I said, I do love you; however," he restarted, choosing his conjunction a bit more carefully, "As we said on the island, we do not know what the future holds. I would like to believe that this could last forever…I want it too, Jullus. Yet, there are many adventures ahead for me and rebuilding your home most likely be a life long project for you. We've maintained an excellent correspondence and somehow have found a rhythm to make this work but we are far from settling down."

Jullus nodded along, mood improving as things stayed, somewhat, positive. "Then what is it you want?"

Alphinaud leaned in, kissing Jullus softly before pulling away. "Time. Time to see what we really look like as a fully committed, eternally bonded couple."

"I think we're already there, aren't we?"

"Yes, but…perhaps it's better to treat this as an engagement. In a year's time, if we are confident in our standing then we'll plan for a formalised ceremony. If not, we can wait until we do…and if not then we'll take the steps necessary to end things amicably," Alphinuad proposed calmly.

Jullus stared at Alphinaud for a moment before shaking his head. "You sound like your father when you talk like that. I can't tell what you're thinking," he said before raking his hand up the back of Alphinaud's head, pulling him into a firm kiss. "I promise, in a years time, nothing will have changed."

Alphinaud melted in Jullus's arms, unable to stay pragmatic after the deceleration. He rested his face against the side of the other's neck to not let his expression betray his embarrassment and twinge of elation that seemed to keep his fears at bay. "I hope that remains true."

The two sat in silence for a moment, letting the tension between them slowly lift. Once they felt better, they rose and started their journey back toward home. Jullus seemed to be lost in thought as they journeyed, catching Alphinaud's attention. "Is there something you didn't get off your chest?"

"Not exactly. To be honest, my concern was that you were ready to end things. This is honestly the best outcome short of saying you're giving up adventuring to pursue a life in Garlemald with me," he said, squeezing on Alphinaud's shoulder as he draped an arm around him. "Not that I'd ever ask you to do that. Though, I think you'd easily find yourself in charge of rebuilding efforts if you put your mind for it. Anyroad, that was not what I was thinking about."

"What is it then?" Alphinaud asked, leaning on Jullus.

"Well. Now that we're married, do you think your mother will let me sleep in your room?"

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #ff xiv #year of the otp 2025 #yotp 2025 #jullus pyr norbanus #alphinaud leveilleur #jullus x alphinaud #alphinaud x jullus #alisaie leveilleur #ameliance leveilleur #jannie eyradoux #haurchefant fortemps #fourchenault leveilleur

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gumnut-logic · 1 year ago

Text

Along the Way (Part 7 and The End)

It's finished! ::runs around the room like a loon:: Though I have to say that I doubt this will be the last we see of Mr Sweetapple as there are several threads that need a good neat tie up :D

All the wonderful thanks to @onereyofstarlight for staying up extra late and answering my poke across the Tasman Sea for a last minute read. I hope Alex gives you some nice sleep ::hugs tight::

Also, special thanks to all of you for supporting my geeky fanboy Alex :D There will be more as someone sent me some OC asks about Alex and I've realised that the only way I can answer them is by writing fic. (some other OCs of mine might pop up in fic at some point,too, for that exact same reason) ::so many hugs to all of you for being so kind to me::

But anyway, I will stop my excited rambling and present you with the last chapter of this fic....which has taken so long to write - so many apologies. Though I am excited that I'm writing again :D

I hope you enjoy this :D

-o-o-o-

Alexander Sweetapple’s head was spinning.

Not so much from the concussion he had no doubt he had, thank you, Mr Holographic Scott Tracy, but more from the fact that Virgil had just kissed him.

Not Mr Virgil Tracy, Head of Research and Development at Tracy Industries, no….more ‘ohmigod, I finally found you and you’re alive, I want to hug and kiss your brains out’ Virgil Tracy.

The man was covered in concrete dust and grime, there was more grey than blue on his uniform bar the scratched patches where his now discarded exosuit had sat.

Alex had proof Virgil had hugged him via all the dusty patches on his damp clothes, on his arms, and in his hair.

Virgil Tracy had hugged and kissed him.

For real.

Alex stood beside his mum while Virgil assessed the condition of her ankle and she went about embarrassing her son every way possible.

To be honest, it had been such a day that she was welcome to show Virgil Alex’s naked baby pictures for all he cared. She was safe and that was all important.

A glance over at the remains of the museum building prompted his heart to add a few extra beats per minute to its routine.

Alex let his jaw drop as he watched the roof float away.

Oh god.

“Alex?”

Virgil’s voice was so rich and deep.

“Alex?” And then Virgil grabbed him. Was he trying to hug him again. That would be nice. “Whoa! I think you need to sit down.”

Okay.

He folded himself smoothly down onto the pavement beside his mum.

“Hey, honey, look at me.” Her fingers were suddenly in his hair. “Allie, how the hell did you do all that with a head injury?” She peered closely at him. “Virgil, what do your scanners say?”

And yes, Virgil was waving a yellow light over Alex. “Concussion, bruising…” He frowned. “You’re both wet. You’ve been in the river?”

“Nearly drowned. My foot got stuck and Allie pulled me out. Some water, possibly sewage, may have been inhaled. My recommendation is to watch for symptoms of infection. In both of us.” Dr Sweetapple was in the house.

He turned to Virgil only to find his friend’s eyebrows fully deployed.

They were very nice eyebrows.

Virgil caught his stare. “Thunderbird One, I need to leave the danger zone. Ten minutes there and back for patient transport.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Two. Make it quick, we need your help in the industrial sector.” A pause. “How’s Alex?”

“Concussion, but well enough…and safe.” Virgil still had his eyes.

“Good to hear. Thunderbird One out.”

“What are you doing, Virgil?” The words slipped out without thought.

Virgil looked down at his wrist control poking it. “You both need medical supervision. I’m providing it for you.”

A good hundred metres away, Thunderbird Two rose up on her struts and her module door slid smoothly open. Two hoverstretchers darted out across the road, gliding around obstacles until they reached Virgil’s side. He pulled out a control surface and reconfigured them into hoverchairs. “Sorry to rush this, but time is short. Alex, stay put while I help your mother.” He held up a gloved hand and Alex was forced to settle back and obey.

Besides, the world was spinning again, and after all, Virgil was technically his boss.

He let his head fall into his hand and closed his eyes, suddenly ever so tired.

So this was what an adrenalin drop felt like.

Ugh.

“Alex?” Virgil’s voice was soft and his gloved hand gentle on his arm. That was really nice. “Alex? You with me?”

He blinked. Oh. “Yeah.”

“Let’s get you up.” Virgil nudged him, both hands holding his arms to steady him.

The world wobbled, but a few steps and Virgil had him snug and safe, strapped into the hover stretcher…chair…whatever the hell it was.

Virgil was running, Alex and his mother beside him, until they were all swallowed by the green of Thunderbird Two.

At some point, Virgil must has triggered the chair back into a bed because Alex was lying down and Virgil hovering over him, once again with a scanner flickering yellow light. “You can go to sleep, Alex. You’re okay and you’re safe.” A gloved hand gently brushed away the hair from Alex’s forehead. He knew this should mean something, but he was so tired.

Thunderbird green danced as his eyelids drifted closed.

Somewhere something was roaring just like a Thunderbird launching, but he had no energy to care.

-o-o-o-

Jeff stepped into the elevator only to almost collide with his mother. “Mom?”

“I’m meeting Thunderbird Two.”

“Why?” Was Virgil hurt? Why hadn’t John told him?

A hand on his arm quelled the sudden panic. “Virgil is fine. We have visitors.”

“Who?” Did he have to draw the information out bit by bit?

“Do you remember Alexander Sweetapple?”

“Of course, I do. Gordon thinks Virgil might be…interested.”

“He is.” She held up a finger so close to Jeff’s face, his eyes crossed. “And you are not going to say a thing. Yes, he’s breaking protocol, but he has good reason.” She looked away and let her finger drop. “The poor boy has been terrified all day. Thank god, they finally found Alex. And I don’t blame him for not wanting to let him out of his sight.” His mother stared up at Jeff with all the fire he knew she possessed. “Your son is bringing home his first romantic interest ever and you are not going to spout security blather all over him. This is our house and we can have guests. Especially important guests.”

Jeff took a step back. “I wasn’t going to say anything!” Virgil was bringing home Alex? As a love interest? “What the hell happened?” He really needed to speak to John about keeping him updated. He knew his orbiting son was selective, but this was ridiculous.

The elevator doors opened and his mother glared at him. “Something good. Don’t ruin it.” She stomped off into Two’s hangar, detouring into the medical supply cupboard on the way, just as the hangar doors started their opening sequence.

Jeff stepped cautiously out of the elevator. He had no idea what warranted his mother’s ire. Okay, maybe he had had some words with his eldest at one point, but that was nearly a decade ago.

His priorities were a little different these days.

Two roared in, a little faster than the norm. Virgil was obviously in a hurry. She spun on her turntable and the moment she settled, her forward hatch was lowered, Virgil standing between two hoverchairs.

Jeff hurried after his mother, cursing his cane, as Virgil strode with the two chairs towards them.

“Grandma, this is Doctor Lolly Sweetapple. Doctor Sweetapple, this is my grandmother, Doctor Sally Tracy, she and my father will be taking over your care.”

The two doctors exchanged greetings and slipped into medical babble two seconds later.

“Dad?” Virgil gestured him over. “You remember Alex?” Why was there so much hesitation in his son’s voice?

“Certainly, the creator of Siliwrap.” The man was obviously asleep. “How is he?”

“Concussion, bruising, he and his mother need monitoring for possible lung infection. They were caught in contaminated water.” His son swallowed; his expression hesitant. “I wanted them here, Dad. Grandma has the skills and the tools.” He looked away. “I just couldn’t leave them to the system.” His eyes fell on Alex and Jeff’s heart clenched.

“We will look after them.” He dropped a consoling hand to his son’s shoulder.

Vulnerable eyes looked up at him. “Thanks, Dad.” His hand was squeezed and Virgil was again moving. This time running back to his ‘bird.

His mother immediately took over and bustled them all into the elevator before they could acquire new coiffures a’la rocket engine.

As the doors closed, Thunderbird Two accelerated out on to her runway and the elevator shaft roared as she took to the sky.

-o-o-o-

Alex rolled over in bed and sighed into his pillow. He was extremely comfortable. Temperature was perfect. Pillow was soft. “Mmmmm….”

“About time you woke up, Allie. You were starting to worry me.” His mother’s voice was always reassuring.

“He’s fine, Lolly. Concussion is healing and there is no sign of any lung infection. See, look at the scans.”

Alex frowned. That was a female voice he didn’t recognise. Also, why was his mum in his bedroom?

“You’re giving me equipment envy, Sally. My god, the science behind this is amazing.”

“Virgil has them in development, don’t you worry. A good percentage of our breakthroughs do get filtered down into the market. Unfortunately, there is a difference between the ability to make a device for International Rescue and making devices in efficient, ecological and economic mass production. Our teams do their best.” A snort. “And your boy is part of that team. His devotion to Siliwrap is all to his credit. Alex is saving lives as much, if not more, as any at Tracy industries. You should be proud.”

“Oh, that’s a given. He’s always been a little obsessive, especially regarding the Thunderbirds.”

Wha-?

Alex flung his eyes open to find his mother lying on a bed beside him, smiling. She had her ankle wrapped and raised and was obviously talking to the owner of the other voice, an older lady dressed in a purple jumpsuit.

Both were smiling at him.

“Where am I?”

Yes, that’s the first question out of any alien abductee’s mouth, no doubt about it.

“You’re on Tracy Island, Alex. You and your mother are safe and our guests.” When Alex didn’t respond as his brain automatically overloaded. “I’m Mrs Tracy, Virgil’s grandmother.”

“Watch it, Sally, he may combust on the spot.”

Thanks, mum.

His mother was grinning at him. “I swear he’s been looking for the location of this island since he discovered his first Thunderbird.”

“Mum!”

“Shhh! You’ll wake him up.” His mum was pointing behind him.

“Lolly, don’t worry, Virgil sleeps like the dead. Especially after a rescue like that.”

Virgil? What?

He twisted around and found a third bed behind him. Virgil lay sprawled face down on it, snoring softly into his pillow.

“Don’t worry, honey. He’s just tired. Our boys exhaust themselves and then wonder why their bodies shut down.”

It was only then all the events leading up to his current situation fully loaded into his brain.

Virgil.

Virgil had kissed him. His chocolate eyes held such relief and joy…

The scene played back in his head over and over, declaring that it had happened. That something Alex may have dreamed about but never really considered actually possible, had happened.

He stared at Virgil.

Gone was the uniform and in its place a simple black t-shirt outlining a lax bicep hanging off the edge of the bed. Alex’s eyes tracked down the length of Virgil’s arm to his hand.

Such strong hands.

The emergency responder had a blanket draped over him, obviously placed there after the advent of slumber, likely by his purple grandmother.

“Why is he here?”

Mrs Tracy walked around Alex’s bed so she could face him. “Now, don’t you start worrying your head off, young man. He is fine. He’s in the bed because otherwise he’d be asleep in a chair and that is not acceptable self-care. He wanted to stay here with you and it was the bed or out. Exhaustion did the rest.”

He stared at her a moment, his thoughts spinning.

“How are you feeling, Allie?”

Huh? He turned back to his mother. “Mum, your ankle…”

She waved him off. “Hon, I’ve done worse tripping over kids in the waiting room. Nothing to worry about.” She frowned at him. “How’s your head?”

How was his head? How was he in general?

There were aches, yes, now that attention had been drawn to them, but generally, considering that he’d just been through a major disaster, he felt okay. “I’m okay.”

His eyes drifted back to Virgil.

“Don’t you think of getting out of bed just so you can sit at his bedside, Alex. I know how you boys think, so don’t think you can pull one over on me.” Virgil’s grandmother was proving to be as bad as Alex’s mother.

“Don’t worry, Sally, he’s been very well trained from birth.”

“How did you manage that? I’ve been trying for nearly thirty years with the grandkids. Their father is just as bad.”

Alex’s eyes widened. Their father? Jeff Tracy. The Jeff Tracy who gave his name to Tracy Island. That Tracy Island that was ever so secret and Alex was currently resting his butt on. Well, the bed his was resting his butt on was on the Island. It was simple transference of molecular ownership.

Perhaps this was not the best moment to realise that he was wearing a black t-shirt very similar to Virgil’s and that it was not one he owned, nor was it one he was wearing the last time he was aware and conscious.

He pulled up the blanket and found black shorts. “Where are my clothes?” Perhaps the step up in octave was a little ridiculous on his part, but it had been a very stressful day.

“Your clothes were ruined, Allie. Jeff and Mrs Tracy were kind enough to supply and dress you in some replacements.” His mother was ever so matter-of-fact, as usual.

“Jeff Tracy saw me naked?!”

Okay, he had to admit, that was supposed to be inner voice and not shouted at the top of his lungs. In any case, it proved that it was possible to wake up Virgil Tracy, no matter what his grandmother said.

“Alex? What?”

He turned to find Virgil pushing himself up off the bed, hair sticking in all directions, obviously still half asleep.

“Honey, the man brought up five boys. One more is nothing new.” Mrs Tracy was as matter-of-fact as his mother.

Great. A team up.

“Virgil, go back to sleep.” Mrs Tracy bustled over to her grandson and attempted to get him to lie down.

But Virgil had caught sight of Alex. “Alex! You’re awake!”

Mrs Tracy actually rolled her eyes as Virgil threw off his covers and climbed out of bed. He closed the distance between them on bare feet. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

Alex couldn’t help it. “You look adorable.” Because he did. Big tough rescue operative with puffy eyes and hair sticking up all over the place, not to mention the black t-shirt and shorts that hid absolutely zero anatomical detail. And above all, he was smiling, as if ever so happy to see Alex…which was some kind of miracle and honestly how hard had he hit is head?

“You’re not bad yourself.” That smile turned to one of appreciation.

What?

His mother did mention a concussion…

“Okay, it’s obvious Virgil is not going to listen to his doctor’s advice, so Lolly and I will leave you two boys alone.” Mrs Tracy poked at his mum’s bed and it detached from the wall, hovering quite happily and easily nudged out of the room.

“Allie, take it easy, love. You are recovering from a concussion, after all.”

Yeah, yeah, mum, whatever. Virgil’s eyes were such a beautiful shade of brown.

Both women muttered to each other as they left the room, closing the door behind them.

Virgil was poking Alex’s bed controls with his fingers. “Good. You’ve rested.” His eyes were tracking over medical readouts. Alex’s medical readouts.

“I’m okay, Virgil.”

The man looked up at him again. “Good.”

Alex frowned as Virgil lifted a hand up and gently brushed Alex’s hair clear of his left temple and the abrasion there. “Grandma’s treated you well.”

Alex wanted to fall into that gentle touch. His eyes may have at least partially closed.

“Are we okay?”

Alex’s eyes snapped open.

“I mean…” Those eyes looked down and away. No, come back! “…we haven’t talked about-“

Alex was suddenly kissing Virgil. There had been space between them, but now it was gone, Alex had his arms around those truly magnificent biceps, and startled lips were pressed up against his, ever so warm, and god, Virgil was kissing him back…

There was a brain whiteout for a moment as Virgil’s arms returned Alex’s eager embrace…and then Virgil’s tongue was in his mouth and…

“Whoa! My bad.”

Alex pulled back.

“No! No, you two just keep doin’ what you were doin’ and I’ll just put this coffee down and-“

“Gordon, what do you want?” Virgil hadn’t let go of Alex, but his head did turn towards his brother.

Alex was busy dying on the spot. Why did he do that? Kiss Virgil? Him?

“I brought you coffee! You know, life blood and all that.” Coffee? “Uh, you might want to get back to that tonsil hockey you were playing. Alex looks like he’s might dump you for the coffee.”

“Go away, Gordon.”

“Going away, leaving, like a tree. Happy for both of you. ‘Bout time, Virg.”

“Gordon!”

“I’m gone!” And he was, the door sliding shut behind him.

Virgil turned back to Alex. “Sorry about that.” A slight shrug. “I have brothers.”

Alex blinked. “I have sisters.”

Virgil’s smile was a sight to behold. “So, we’re okay?”

Alex had had a very hard day, his head was a bit of a mess and there were several truths he was ignoring to keep his sanity. But right now?

He tugged Virgil closer. “More than okay.”

“You want some coffee?”

But Virgil’s lips were brushing his and… “No, I’m good.”

The coffee went cold.

-o-o-o-

FIN

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #alexander sweetapple #jeff tracy #gordon tracy #grandma tracy #sally tracy #nuttyfic #it's finished!#romance #virgil tracy/alexander sweetapple

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otomehoneyybearr · 9 months ago

Text

Act 12

Episode 27: My Own Journey Pt.2

Working w/ Maybelle Lace, jujumin-translates, Fea

Note: As you read, you will see that some sentences highlighted in a different color, this is what they indicate.

Pink: Flashback

Blue: Characters are acting

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Vice Principal: Yes, you're Sakuma, right?

Sakuya: Y-Yes! It's been a while.

Vice Principal: My, you're all grown up now.

Sakuya: Is it true that there is a tape of the performance that happened on the day of the fire?

Vice Principal: There is. It's the only incident of its kind that happened at this school, before and since then. I remember it well.

Vice Principal: Watch as much as you like.

Sakuya: ...

Actor A: "Captain, I found a shadow of the ship in the 3 o' clock direction!''

Amadate: “You bastards, I’m going to attack you!”"

Sakuya: ——

Sakuya: (Wow... It's exactly the same as the stage from that time... In an instant the unforgettable impressions of that day are coming back to me.)

Sakuya: (This was the first play I ever saw... The stage looked like an endless ocean.)

Sakuya: (My world expanded beyond me all at once.)

Sakuya: (No matter what kind of person Mr. Amadate is, this play is still irreplaceable and important to me.)

Amadate: "The treasure is right in front of us. Listen up and don't let your guard down—"

Sakuya: (Here it is—)

Teacher A: "There's a fire! Everyone calm down—

Student A: "What? A fire?

Student B: "Really?"

Teacher B: "Right now we will begin evacuating in order so please follow the teacher's instructions!''

Amadate: "You bastards! It's a naval attack!"

Student A: "What?"

Student A: "Are they continuing the play?"

Amadate: "Quickly pull up! Do you remember the steps?

Amadate: “Follow the adults and go outside in order!”

Actor A: "Aye aye, sir!"

Kabuto: Pfft.

Sakuya: Wha?

Sakuya: (Woah, is he laughing....?)

Kabuto: At that time, I thought that I could act out a great play depending on the situation, but... memory is a sloppy thing, isn't it

Kabuto: ...You already know, right? The one who is tormenting your theater company is Keiju Amadate.

Sakuya: ——.

Sakuya: Kabuto is Mr. Amadate's son, right...

Kabuto: We're not connected by blood though.

Kabuto: ...Well, I used to respect him as an actor.

Kabuto: For a long time, I always thought that he had a nice outward appearance, but when I got to live next to him, he was actually inhuman.

Kabuto: I didn't dislike him because I felt like he was more human than usual when he was on stage, when he was playing a role.

Kabuto: However, there is no trace of my father from back then.

Kabuto: ...I will surpass him.

Sakuya: What?

Kabuto: Is that enough? Here, give me your hand.

Kabuto: Take this.

Sakuya: Is this a USB stick?

Kabuto: This will be the key to Mankai Company's revival.

Kabuto: The mark is probably still tight right now, so take your time and hand it over to the general manager. Be careful not to let anyone else know.

Kabuto: It contains data that could be fatal to Keiju Amadate.

Kabuto: I was just thinking of a way to hide it before it got discovered and then give it to the geeky general manager. This was good timing.

Kabuto: By the way, don't let anyone know that you met me here. Young people these days post everything on SNS...

Kabuto: If I'm found out, it'll all be over for me. It seems that he'll erase me from the theater world.

Sakuya: I-I understand. I won't tell anyone

Sakuya: (Mr. Amadate, how dare you even threaten your own son...)

Kabuto: See ya.

Sakuya: What are you going to do now?

Kabuto: I'm sure I'll be able to visit that place soon. I plan to move around here and there until the dust cools down.

Sakuya: Thank you very much!

Sakuya: Right now I'm on a journey to trace my roots.

Sakuya: Thanks to Kabuto, I was able to watch footage of the important play that made me want to become an actor. It was really nice of you.

Sakuya: I had no idea there was a recorded video of it... If I hadn't met Kabuto, I wouldn't have been able to watch it.

Sakuya: Did you come to see the video because you wanted to see your father's last play again?

Kabuto: ...There was one thing I really wanted to confirm.

Kabuto: The fire incident was covered in the newspapers, further spreading the name of the Hyakka Theater Company throughout the country.

Kabuto: There is no doubt that this was one of the opportunities for the company to make a breakthrough as a theater company that regularly receives nominations for the Fleur Award

Kabuto: That's why I was wondering. Was this fire really an accident?

Sakuya: I don't know if you could say if it was an accident or not...!

Kabuto: Are you really thinking that? But it was definitelymy father's orders that set your theater on fire.

Kabuto: Even if he didn't give direct instructions, he wouldn't care about that much in order to achieve his goal.

Sakuya: ...

Sakuya: (That may be true, but I never expected it...)

Kabuto: ...Well, I was wrong.

Kabuto: Father's voice was trembling enough to make me laugh.

Kabuto: I didn't realize it at the time, but when I watched it again, it was obvious that he was upset. I've never seen such a terrible play.

Kabuto: ...After all, my father is also a human being. Therefore, he can be surpassed.

Teacher A: “Next, the 3rd graders take their turn!”

Young Man: "Slow down! Please calm yourselves and follow the person in front of you! Don't run!"

Sakuya: (I see, that young man was—)

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Prev | Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

#a3! translation #a3! act addict actors #a3!#a3! act 12 translation #a3! act 12 #sakuya sakuma

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densi-mber · 2 years ago

Text

Just Give us a Reason to Compete

“I’m just saying, of the two of us, one is clearly a better speller than the other,” Deeks proclaimed as he and Kensi walked into the bullpen.

“Deeks, I misspelled one word. It’s not that big a deal,” Kensi insisted, tossing her bag onto her already crowded desk. Callen reached out to catch a bottle of lotion. “And that was autocorrect’s fault.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Hey, guys,” Nell said. “Do we want to know what’s going on?

“Kensi can’t spell,” Deeks announced loudly, before Kensi could respond. She rounded on him with a glare, and Deeks grinned back at her. He could tell it wasn’t true anger, so he didn’t feel all that bad about teasing her.

“All right, that’s it. I challenge you to a spelling competition.”

“Ok, I’m in. What do I get if I win?”

“The knowledge that you’re the better speller?” Kensi said with a shrug.

“Nah, that’s not good enough,” Deeks decided. He thought for a moment. “If I win, I want control of the radio for a week.”

“Then I want you to make me frittata every morning for a week.”

“Deal.” Turning to face the rest of the team, who had been watching the conversation with varying levels of interest, Deeks asked, “Any other takers?”

Callen snorted. “Not a chance. Sam, you in?”

“Oh no, I already know my spelling abilities. I once won a state spelling competition in high school,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

“I thought you were a mathlete,” Callen commented.

“I was.” Sam jabbed a finger at him. “And no jokes.”

“I would never,” Callen said solemnly. “Though it is impressive that one man can hold so much geekiness within him. I think you’re running neck and neck with Beale.”

“He thinks that’s an insult,” Eric said wryly. “For the record, I am not beyond competing in a test of spelling acuity.”

“Nell?”

“I would, but I don’t think you guys could handle it,” she responded.

“Ooh, that sounds like a challenge, Jones. Why don’t you put your money, or similar compensatory item, where your mouth is?”

Nell stepped toe-to-toe with Deeks, standing as tall as she could.

“All right Mr. Deeks. I’ll participate, but you’ll regret it. And if I win, the losers will write all my expense summaries for the next week.”

“It’s a deal,” Deeks agreed.

“Oh, you’re going down hard,” Kensi goaded him. “I’m looking forward to breakfast in bed.”

***

“Alright Kensi, your word is “onomatopoeia”,” Callen called out, waiting as Kensi stepped forward. He’d been assigned the role of choosing and assigning words, mostly because Sam refused.

Eric had dropped out after three rounds with the word chiaroscurist. Personally, Deeks thought he’d done it on purpose, in deference to Nell. Deeks had nearly lost it with lachsschinken, but somehow managed to squeak through solely by chance.

Kensi correctly spelled her word; she looked decidedly tense, biting at her thumbnail in between turns. When it came back around to her again, Callen gave her the word “arachnophagous”.

“A-r-a-c-h-n-o-p-h-a-g,” Kensi started, then hesitated. “u-s?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that is incorrect,” Callen said, not sounding sorry at all. “Now it’s just down to Deeks and Nell.”

“Damn it!” Kensi hissed, plopping into her seat.

“I can’t believe I’m watching this,” Sam mumbled.

“You got this, Nell,” Eric encouraged, then shot Deeks an apologetic look. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s ok, brother. I understand.”

“Ok Nell, your next word is “budgereegah”.

“Now you’re just making things up,” Deeks muttered even as Nell rattled off the apparently correct spelling liked she’d actually heard the word before.

“Excellent. Deeks, yours is “sesquipedalian”.”

“Awesome. Uh, s-e-s-a-u-i—p-e-d-a-l-i-e-n”.

“That is…incorrect,” Callen called out. “Congratulations, Nell. You’re the NCIS Office of Special Operations’ inaugural spelling bee winner.”

“That implies there’s going to be another one,” Sam commented under his breath.

“Nicely done, Nell,” Deeks congratulated her, and Nell accepted the praise with a nod.

“Thank you. And thank you for the week of expense reports. I will enjoy going home early.”

“It won’t be so bad with Eric and Kens helping. Right, Kensi?”

“Right,” Kensi said with a grimace. “Congrats Nell, but I was really looking forward to those breakfasts.”

“Well, there’s always next year,” Deeks said brightly.

***

A/N: This one was a bit sillier, but I hope you still enjoyed it. I think the team would compete for anything under the right conditions. Also, some of the words I used were selected from the national Spelling Bees list.

#densimber 7.0 #densimber 2023 #densimber day 14 #densi #and co #ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #Sam and Callen #Nell and Eric #team fic #ncis la #by ejzah

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sl-newsie · 1 year ago

Text

Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 2: Mrs. White

Thankfully on top of Bond’s knowledge of being a spy, I’ve also picked up on his knowledge of proper dress attire. My apartment’s closet may be small, but I’ve filled any available closet space with clothing for every kind of occasion. Tonight, I decide on an emerald green dress with a v-neck. Not short enough to be distracting, but something a nun might frown at. Paired with silver earrings and simple black flats, my appearance seems reasonable.

“Wish me luck, Cricket.” I give a wave goodbye to the gray tabby as I shut the door.

M seems to have spared no expense, because when I exit my apartment building I find a sleek black Bentley waiting for me. The driver ushers me in without a word and drives straight to the glamorous Blixen. It’s mid-evening, which has produced a decent crowd of wealthy patrons. If it weren’t for my business here I’d feel very out of place. I walk up to the host, about to question about a table-

“Ah, Mrs. White. Your husband is expecting you!” The host greets me and begins leading me down the aisle.

Husband?! Is this what Bond goes through on a daily basis? This new Quartermaster better be as nice as Eve insists, because this whole situation feels like a gag. The host shows me to a table near the back next to a window that displays a gorgeous view of the city. It’s empty, meaning that my ‘husband’ is yet to show.

“Mr. White said he was running late, but you should still order anything you like. Our special tonight is lamb and chickpea stew. Please, enjoy!”

“Many thanks to you, sir.”

I unfold the menu and discreetly begin searching the surrounding patrons for any potential threats. There are none, only a few happy drunks near the bar. I check my watch, seeing that ten minutes have passed. Is this whole thing a joke-?

“Well hello there, Mrs. White.”

My made-up name almost makes me smile. The voice that said it seems strange, almost-

I look up, and almost think the lanky man has the wrong table. His face is young enough to pass as a college bloke, almost child-like. Dark, quirky eyebrows are arched over his brown eyes, full of curiosity. Simple glasses with a black lining cover these inquiring eyes. He’s wearing a very elegant suit, though not as expensive as Bond’s. Coincidentally his tie’s color is almost identical to my dress. I’ll admit he does clean up nice for a younger fellow. If it weren’t for his disheveled brown hair I’d say he was on a first date trying to impress me.

“Hello, Mr. White. I didn’t think they’d allow anyone to have such a messy haircut. I'm even required to keep mine up.”

The geeky man seems unfazed by my comment and settles down in the chair across from me, giving the menu a good search.

“I don’t do field work.”

My face can’t suppress a smirk. “Of course. You’re just the nerd behind the computer.”

Now I’ve got his attention because his eyes shift up to look at me, almost seeming to belittle me. “I’m the nerd behind the computer that can save your life, agent. Do you want this evening’s conversation to be effective or would you rather go down the street to the local pub to chat in a more childish manner?”

We’re left in a silent glaring battle. How does this guy have just as much spunk as Bond? I’ve not known him for five minutes and he’s already referred to me as a child. Two can play at that game.

“I don’t intend to chat with someone who’s mother still ties his shoes. Either tell me why M sent you to mock me or I am leaving.”

The man keeps a laid-back demeanor as he rises and rounds the table to lean down and whisper: “Pardon my french, love, but I’m your fucking Quartermaster and you better listen if you want to make it through your next mission alive. Do I make myself clear?”

His icy words leave me stunned, only being able to nod in response. Thankfully the waiter arrives now to save me from more arguing.

“Good evening, Mr. White. What will you be having this evening?”

“I will only have a cup of hot tea. Earl Gray, please.”

The waiter is surprised by this simple request, as am I. But he masks it well and turns to take my order.

“I’ll have a lavender lemonade martini.”

“Really, dear? I thought you might be hungry.” God this man really gets on my nerves.

“I lost my appetite,” I reply sweetly but with fiery eyes.

Once the waiter leaves looking rather frazzled, the Quartermaster gives me a skeptical look. “I see you picked up Bond’s love for alcohol.”

I shake my head and toy with the silverware. “Not in the slightest. I just really like lemonade. But if I’d ordered that you’d think I was a child compared to your choice of grown-up tea.”

He actually laughs at my small joke. “Earl Gray tea, only the best. But I wouldn’t think of you differently if you ordered lemonade.”

“Hm. So you don’t like alcohol?”

“I don’t drink on the job. Matter of fact, I don't drink at all.”

The waiter is very quick to drop our drinks off despite me trying to give him a friendly smile.

“Very mature of you. Yet it’s strange of you to only order a cup of tea in a fancy place like this. Ever been here, Quartermaster?”

The man sips his steaming mug of tea. “First, call me Q. It’s much easier. Second, no I’ve never been here. This is probably the most expensive restaurant I’ve ever set foot in.”

“So we both agree that M has exquisite taste?”

“Yes. Speaking of which, let’s get back to the task at hand.” Q pauses to take out a messenger bag he’s brought with him, then pulls out a silver necklace with a blue pendant on it. “For you, Mrs. White.”

“Thank you, dear husband,” I mock in the same cheesy tone. “If this whole dinner was to bribe me with jewelry then M obviously doesn’t know me so well.”

“Haha, we’re all laughing,” Q states dryly as his steady hands clip it around my neck. “It’s actually a disguised tracker. And this-” He pulls out a small box from his bag and opens it to reveal a pouch. “This is a sheath for one of our best non-metallic knives. Undetectable, very elegant and light weight. Which is why I named it Mrs. White in your honor.”

“Yeah, um, why the whole charade of you and me? You could’ve just said we were two old friends meeting for a chat.”

“People don’t ask questions when a married couple is involved,” Q replies lazily as he hands me the knife sheath. “It’s designed for you to wear it anywhere in order to avoid suspicion.”

I smirk. “Oh, like my bust?”

Q doesn’t even flinch. “Yes. Obviously Bond’s also schooled you in flirting, so this jewelry as you called it should suffice.”

“You’re having me model the necklace.” I raise a brow. “Would you have me try on the sheath as well?”

Q takes a deep breath. “Moving on. With the state Bond’s left the current espionage situation in, he’ll be sent to Hong Kong and you to Ireland.”

I almost choke on my drink. “You’re splitting us up? Bond and I are usually joined at the hip for missions.”

This seems to pinch something in Q. In the corner of my eye I see his eyes flick up to search my face for something.

“Figuratively or literally?”

Is this jealousy I detect? “Oh don’t flatter me. Bond never acts like that with me. He knows I put business before pleasure. So why Ireland?”

Q relaxes and takes another sip of this tea. “Closer to home. Better for us to keep an eye on you.”

My nose scrunches. “Are you saying I need a babysitter?”

“In a word, yes. You’re one of our youngest agents, which is why you’ve always been paired with someone.”

I take a good swig of spiked lemonade, then stare him square in the face. “Alright, just say it. You don’t think I’m qualified. You’re just like my last Quartermaster, who thought I belonged as a secretary. I may be young, but I am not dumb, Q. Just ask M. She knows I can go the distance.”

No matter how hard I’ve trained I never seem to control my temper. My own self-pride seems to betray me in delicate situations, and this is probably going to make Q dislike me even more.

However Q seems to take my small outburst surprisingly well. He finishes his tea and takes another deep breath. “I understand, agent. Being one who is also part of the outnumbered youth, I’m afraid our stereotyping of being under qualified only dissipates with age. But please let me finish: This time we are sending you on a solo mission under careful surveillance.”

Did- Did I hear that right? Solo mission? Bond guessed I wouldn't be eligible for those for years.

“Are you bluffing? How on Earth did I get waved for a solo mission?”

Q smiles at my giddy reaction. “I pulled a few strings. M and Eve both told me you could handle it.”

Keeping silent, I rise, move around the table, and pull in a surprised Q for a tight hug.

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” I whisper with contained excitement.

Q keeps stiff as a board, then grunts. “Um, first off, no hugging the Quartermaster.”

“Why? Are you a germaphobe?”

“I don’t do hugs.”

I partake in his request and release him, still smiling like a madman. “Ah. So how about a handshake?”

He considers this, then nods. “That’s acceptable.”

I vigorously grab his skinny hand and give it a firm shake. “I will not disappoint you!”

Q finally mirrors my smile as we begin to make our way to the cashier. “Better not, darling. I’d hate to have to attend your funeral.”

#quartermaster x reader #quartermaster #q x reader #james bond #daniel craig #ben whishaw #skyfall #spectre #no time to die #007 #james bond 007

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