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buskies · 2 years

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This fic contains spoilers for Points of Contact, since it’s a version of chapter 9 from Garrus’s point of view.

For @notasiren21, who gave me the idea for the second half of this chapter, and who has been an awesome and patient friend and beta. Thank you!!

—

SO YOU HAD SEX WITH AN ALIEN. What now?

Do you:

a) Determine whether or not your partner (and you!) would like it to happen again

b) Discuss what type of relationship fits best for you and your partner (some options include: casual, serious, one night stand, platonic friends, etc)

c) Panic and make all the wrong choices

Of course, Garrus went with c). As he did with pretty much all his personal life choices.

To be fair, he did try a) first.

“Listen,” said Garrus. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I do. A lot. Definitely more than is appropriate for a turian of my social standing. There are expectations. And you—you—”

Saved his life. Made him laugh. Gave him gifts. Risked her life for him. Danced like she was running barefoot in the hottest deserts of Palaven.

“We shouldn’t do that again,” he finished weakly.

Of course, Shepard just stared blankly at him.

This was what happened when you crash landed on a planet with an alien race that barely had the technological firepower to send a rocket to their moon. Why did humans still not have a universal translator?

Garrus pointed at himself. Then he pointed at Shepard.

The next step here would be to give some sort of negative indicator. It wouldn’t be the hardest thing he had to communicate to her in these months without a common language. All he needed to do was shake his head. She would understand.

His hand hung suspended in the air.

He lowered it again.

Shepard pointed at herself. Then she pointed at Garrus. She said something in human, cocking her eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know!” Garrus said, flung up both his hands, and stormed back into his sleeping quarters to hide.

Garrus lay sprawled out on his nest of pillows, arms spread, staring at the ceiling. Each night before he fell asleep, he reviewed what he had learned about humans from living with one for months.

Last night he had learned that humans:

tasted like salt if licked behind the ear

made both musical and incredibly ridiculous sounds during sex

felt really really good to have sex with

incredibly good

best sex he’d had to date

would be surprising if he ever had better sex in his inevitably short life (if he even managed to get off this rock alive)

Garrus snorted at himself. Human intercourse and reproduction was of course a topic of interest, but he could just imagine his boss’s face if he rhapsodized for five thousand words about how amazing it was to have sex with one.

On the plus side, Shepard seemed just as clueless on how to proceed as Garrus was. Of course, if this was weird for him, it had to be at least twenty thousand times weirder for her. You couldn’t throw a stone in the Citadel without hitting a cross-species couple, considering how asaris paired off, but as far as he knew, Shepard was the first human to have sex with an alien.

To her credit, she seemed to be handling everything with the same aplomb he’d grown to expect from her. Although she was avoiding him just as much as he was avoiding her, she didn’t seem to be freaking out. Then again, for all that humans broadcasted their emotions as loudly as a Blasto! advertisement, Shepard had always been ruthlessly collected in the short time he knew her. Hell, an alien spacecraft had crash landed in her backyard and her response was to drag the alien inside, toss him on her bed, wash him off, patch him up, change the sheets, and then give him the most comfortable clothing he had ever worn. Nothing seemed to faze her.

Except, of course, when she shot him with a brightly colored kid’s toy shaped like a gun. Or when she wrapped a long, soft strip of cloth (scarf, she’d called it in human) around his neck. Then she laughed with her whole body until tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. Or the blood vessels on her face vasodilated until her cheeks were painted pink in what appeared to be the turian equivalent of a blush.

It had taken him nearly a month to decipher that one, since she did it so rarely. Turians blushed by an involuntary fluttering of their mandibles. Garrus had trained himself out of blushing at a very young age. Which was a good thing, since he was constantly making an ass of himself.

“Shepard,” he said, when they inevitably ran into each other in the hall.

“Garrus,” she said, in human.

For a moment he was so busy reliving the other night—when she had arched under him and gasped out his name in human—that he missed half of what she was saying. Not that it mattered since he couldn’t understand her, but she clearly expected him to be paying attention.

Apparently, she wanted him to follow her into the kitchen, where she had laid out six bowls of human food.

“What’s this?” asked Garrus, taking the seat across from her.

She got that look in her eye that indicated she was about to try and explain something. On her handheld tablet, she pulled up a screen with more human ciphers on it. She set it on the table and scooped out some food from one of the bowls, and put it on her own wrist. Then she tapped on her tablet, and the ciphers started to move in what appeared to be a countdown. For how long, he couldn’t tell, but the meaning of everything else snapped into place. She wanted to do an edibility test. Pretty standard training in the military.

He shrugged. “Okay, sure. Don’t really see the point, though. Even if your food doesn’t immediately send me into anaphylactic shock, I’m not sure my body will actually process the nutrients.”

She kicked him on the shin.

It had to have hurt her more than it did him, but he still shot her an outrageously offended look. She did that thing where she swung her eyes around in a way that somehow managed to perfectly convey sarcasm, then pointed at him.

Don’t be a fucking defeatist, she said with her glare alone. Then she reached out to take his wrist.

The contact zinged through him like a spark from a wire. Shepard jerked her hand back, but then pressed her lips together, determinedly wrapped her hand around his wrist, and yanked his arm forward with a bit more force than necessary.

“Sorry,” she said, one of the few human words he’d managed to pick up. Gently turning his hand over, she looked up at him expectantly.

Garrus nodded at her, a little dazed. He kind of felt like he would agree to wrestle an elcor right now, if she asked. Her hand was oddly stubby and had more digits than he was strictly comfortable with, but it was paradoxically soft and strong, able to touch him with such tenderness at one moment, and then grab onto him with bruising passion the next.

Turning his hand over, she plucked up a sliver of foodstuff from one of the bowls and placed it on the inside of his wrist, narrating what she was doing the whole time. Then she reset the timer on her tablet and, unless he was reading into things, reluctantly drew her hand away from his arm.

Garrus leaned back in his chair, holding his wrist in place, already feeling the awkward silence creeping up around them now that they were forced to wait for a reaction. This was what he got for having sex with someone he shared close quarters with. Someone who had become a friend—realistically, the truest and most devoted friend he had ever had in his entire life—and he had to go and fuck it all up by—

Shepard pointed at him and growled. His brows flew up.

In retrospect, he should have known better. There was no way someone like Shepard would let something as trivial as a drunken tryst, no matter how awkward Garrus felt about it, slow her down.

Frowning, she tried again, varying her tone. It took him a moment to realize she was trying to say his name.

“Garrus,” he said.

She snarled at him.

He cleared his throat, forcing down the laugh that wanted to break out. “Garrus,” he said again.

“Rrrrris,” she said.

They continued to practice his name until the tablet chimed. It had been about fifteen minutes. In that time, Shepard had managed a passable variation of his name, and Garrus had not died from anaphylaxis.

Shepard mimed plucking the foodstuff from her wrist and eating it.

What the hell. It felt like yet another practice in futility, with the exciting additional risk of potentially poisoning himself, but he popped the sliver into his mouth to humor her. It tasted a bit like an unripe pomum fruit from Palaven, mildly sweet with a nice crunch to it.

“Apple,” said Shepard, setting the timer.

Garrus’s mandibles twitched in a frown. There were certain sounds he was poorly equipped to make. Shepard just stared at him expectantly.

Well, she did try saying his name in Cipritinian without a second set of vocal cords. He could give it a shot.

“Aa-aa,” he said, varying his tone to match her singsong syllables.

Her lips didn’t even twitch in a smile, even though he felt ridiculous, like a baby trying to sputter out his first words. Where turians used their secondary vocal cords for nuanced pronunciations, humans relied on their lips and tongue. It felt a bit like trying to speak around a mouthful of rocks.

She pointed at the apple in the bowl, pointed at him, then said, “Grrr.”

Sometimes, trying to speak with Shepard was the funniest shit he had experienced in his life.

He huffed a laugh, but she just fixed him with that determined look of hers. “Mild fruit,” he said, choosing to go with a descriptive generic term, since there really wasn’t a turian equivalent.

Taking a deep breath, Shepard attempted the word. She made him repeat it several times, committing the word to memory. Then she pointed at him and said, “Apple.”

“Aa-aa,” he dutifully repeated.

After fifteen minutes, Shepard looked at him expectantly. He shrugged. He wasn’t dead. She narrowed her eyes at him, then leaned back in her chair, grabbed her stomach, and groaned theatrically. Then she mimed vomiting.

“Do that again,” said Garrus.

She couldn’t understand him of course, but she kicked him anyway.

He considered how he felt, then shook his head. His stomach wasn’t immediately rebelling, at least. Shepard nodded at him, then picked up her handheld tablet and tapped on the screen.

They repeated this method of experimentation and classification with all six bowls. Along with the apple, he seemed to have no problems with sugar, spinach and rice, but he ended up spitting out the meat called chicken and the liquid called milk definitely wasn’t sitting right in his stomach.

Shepard dutifully noted down the results of the experiment on her tablet, then got to her feet.

Wiping his wrist with a wet towel, he cocked his head to the side. His stomach didn’t exactly feel great from all the foreign food, but he also didn’t feel like he was going to vomit or immediately die. “I guess it’s good to know I might have options if I run out of rations—”

He blinked when Shepard sat back down and carefully set a pistol on the table, barrel pointing at the door and away from them both.

“Gun,” she said.

“Right. Okay,” said Garrus. “Gun.”

By the end of the night, Garrus had increased his human vocabulary by twenty words and he still hadn’t died, so he counted that as a win.

When they finished cleaning up the kitchen, Shepard turned to him, beaming, and gave him a thumbs up. It was infectious. He had pretty much accepted the fact that his life had a very close deadline, but her enthusiasm and determination sparked a treacherous flame of hope in his chest.

Even with things so awkward between them, she was still trying to help him. It might all be in vain, but the thought warmed him all the way through. Lucky. He was so fucking lucky. First, that he somehow managed to beat the statistics and not land in water. Then to be found by Shepard?

He stared at her, slightly in awe, until her smile faded and she lowered her hand. For a moment, she seemed fragile. Vulnerable.

Garrus reached out and took her hand, and then said one of the new human phrases he had learned that night.

“Thank you.”

#my fic #fic: points of contact #fic: points of contact: a turian perspective #shakarian #female shepard/garrus vakarian #mass effect fanfiction

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preciouspeterbparker · 3 years

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i wish i were, part 3

part one

part two

summary: it’s getting harder to pretend that everything is okay.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: step- inc*st, smut, underage sex, suicidal ideation (oops), ANGST, depression, self-harm mention (doesn’t actually happen, just intrusive thoughts), it’s all mentioned very casually so if this is triggering for you please don’t read!! <3 , ambiguous ending

this is the last part y’all! thanks for going on this ride with me. this was my first multi-chap fic and it kinda gave me the confidence to know that i’m capable of writing longer stuff without it being super shitty lol. sorry that it’s taken me so long!!

love you all

- bloo

It's getting harder to pretend that everything is okay.

Peter hates to say it, fuck, the thought physically pains him, but he’s glad the school year’s almost over. He’s glad that it’s almost time for graduation, time for Tony to leave for the special summer program MIT invited him to participate in.

He just wants to stop feeling like this, never wants to feel like this ever again. He always feels heavy, weighed down, like his clothes are soaking wet. It’s a feeling that goes deep into his bones, leaving him cold, aching, and tired.

It’s a good thing there’s not really any work left to do for school, other than exams; Peter spends most of his time in bed, headphones on and staring at the wall, the one that separates his room from Tony’s.

He keeps hearing Pepper’s voice in his head. He thinks you hung the moon, babe. It’s so cute. The words make him burn inside, make him want to dig his fingers in and peel his skin back until the feeling spills out of him. Until his blood spill out, until he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore- Fuck-

That’s how his brain is working, now. The intrusive thoughts have reached new levels. Peter’s always had them, he’s been passively suicidal for most of his adolescence, but it seems that any minor inconvenience has him ready to end it all. But it makes sense, he supposes. He’s already hurting, already weary and withdrawn. It really wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge.

Too bad he doesn’t really want to die. He just wants everything to...stop. So that he doesn’t have to feel like this.

And because the universe is obviously enjoying fucking with him, the first thing he sees walking out of first period is Pepper walking down the hallway, a faded black t-shirt hanging from her shoulders, exposing the bright red of her bra straps.

Peter recognizes the garment immediately.

It’s the Black Sabbath shirt, the one he’d kept under his pillow for over a week. The one he’d spilled multiple loads of cum onto before finally putting it in his laundry and carefully slipping it back into Tony’s room once it had been washed.

And now Pepper’s wearing it. Which means Tony gave it to her.

Peter stops, freezes right there in the doorway of Mrs. Flannigan’s classroom. He blinks, staring blankly in the direction the blonde had gone. His classmates protest behind him, pushing forward until he snaps out of it. Taking a few stumbling steps to the side, he leans back against the wall.

He feels like he can’t breathe. Some kid walking down the hall looks at him funny, and he realizes that there are tears rolling down his cheeks. Hastily wiping them away, he slowly pushes himself off the wall and starts making a hasty exit to the bathroom, head down and eyes trained on the linoleum.

Then-

“Hey, Peter- Wait, Pete what’s wrong, what happened?”

Shuddering, barely able to contain the sob that threatens to rip its way out, Peter ignores Tony, just pushes past him and doesn’t stop moving until he’s locked in the private restroom.

With his back to the door, Peter slides down til his butt’s on the cold ground, arms wrapped around his knees as he tries to muffle his cries as he sits there, shaking.

He just wants it to stop.

***

Something’s up with Peter, and Tony has a sinking feeling that it’s got something to do with him. But he doesn’t know what he possibly could have done.

They’d had such a nice time celebrating his birthday. He even had a new photo in his wallet, a polaroid of him and Peter cheesing goofily into the camera. Looking at it brings a smile to his face.

He really does love his little brother. Though he was young, Tony can remember life before Richard and Peter came into their lives. He remembers being an only child as lonely hours spent trying to entertain himself while his mom was busy working, trying to support him as a single parent. He’d been ecstatic upon meeting Richard and finding out that he had a little boy, too, that he was going to get a brother.

Tony knows that he and Peter haven’t been spending as much time together as they usually do, but he just chalked it up to it being his senior year. He wanted to spend the time with his friends, with his girlfriend, making the best of their last bit of time together before everything changes.

Peter’s words from his birthday ring in his head. I don’t want you to...forget me. Maybe he’s feeling left behind?

He’s only got a little over a week left until graduation, and then a week after that he leaves for MIT. That’s not much time at all.

The teen resolves to make some more time in his schedule to spend with his younger brother. Rhodey and the guys and Pep can deal for a couple days.

***

Peter’s pulled out of the clusterfuck of ruminative thoughts that have kept him awake for the past week by the squeak of his bedroom door being opened. He blinks under the covers, instinctively curling in on himself. He’s been under here for hours, but he still feels so cold.

Tony’s voice comes through the small crack he’s created between the door and the jamb, one eye peeking inside. “Peter? Are you….” He pauses and clears his throat before continuing softly, “Are you okay?”

The lump under the covers that is Peter shifts a little. His voice is dull and monotone when he replies, as apathetic as he can muster. “...Just leave me alone, Tony.” So much for that. Even saying his brother’s name hurts, a lot more than he thought it would, making his voice crack pathetically. Peter pulls his hands up to his chest and tries to quell the sudden surge of emotion that rushes through him, stifling a whimper. Please just go away.

Of course, instead of listening for once in his fucking life, Tony opens the door further so that he can slip inside. It closes behind him with a soft click and he takes a tentative step towards the queen bed that’s pushed up against the walls in the corner of the dark bedroom. "Pete…" Peter can hear him softly pad over to the nightstand and flick on the small lamp sitting there. His breathing in the quiet room is near deafening to Peter. “I…” He hovers there for a minute before sighing and sitting at the foot of the bed. “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. So that I can… I just want to help, Pete.”

The silence stretches on uncomfortably between them and even under the covers, Peter can feel the worried gaze burning him alive.

His skin is crawling with how badly he wants to crawl out of the covers and into Tony’s lap, the way he would when they were younger and he was upset. He needs to get Tony out of here. He can’t-

Peter moves so that his head is exposed, but he looks down at the bed rather than the other teen. "No, it’s fine. I mean I-, I’m fine," Peter sniffles, blinking furiously in an attempt to will the tears away. Fuck. His- fuck, his throat is tight, he can't swallow. His mouth falls open, a shuddering breath escaping as the muscles in his throat spasm. "I get it, Tony. I promise I get it, I really do. I do. She's-"

Fuck. He must really be exhausted, he wasn’t supposed to say that, wasn’t supposed to let on the truth of why he’s upset. Peter's eyes flit around like he's on speed, darting from one focal point to another without him truly seeing anything. His voice is hoarse, thin. It's as small as he feels. Miniscule. Insignificant. He’s gonna ruin everything but he can’t make himself stop. "I mean, I can’t- I can't compete with-" The words come to an abrupt halt, his mouth snapping shut.

Tony nudges Peter’s foot with his knee. “What? Peter.” He bumps against Peter again until the younger boy looks up to make eye contact.

That stupid fucking crease forms between his older brother's eyebrows. Peter wants to slap him. Or kiss him. Mostly he wants to scream.

"Peter, what? Compete with who? Are you talking about Pepper? I know we haven’t been spending much time together, but I’m gonna fix that before I leave, I promise. I don’t want you to feel left behind, not at all but I still don’t get- What’s this got to do with -," Tony starts, placatingly. But there’s something in his eyes, in the barely there tremor in his voice- And Peter suddenly realizes that Tony knows, has to know at least a little bit.

He swears his vision flashes red for a second. "It has everything to do with her," Peter all but shrieks, nails digging crescent-shaped welts into his palms. He feels overwhelmed, trapped. Like a hermit crab without its shell- vulnerable, horribly exposed. It comes out without his consent, and so does his fucking stutter. Fuck it all. "And I know- I know- I know I'm fucked up, Tony, I know it, but I love you, the way that you love h-huh-her.”

He takes a shuddering breath, reeling from saying the words out loud for the first time. “I'm sss-suh-sick, and g-gross and you- I know I'm a fff-fuh-freak and nnn-now- now you’re gonna hate me!" Peter sobs, his entire body shaking as he works himself towards an anxiety attack, a panic attack, a heart attack, fucking something. “I can’t even fu-fu-fu-fucking talk-” There’s snot and tears running down his face, he’s upset himself so much he can’t get through a fucking sentence. He knows he’s making a fucking fool of himself. He’s so stupid, why did he ever think that anything could come from this. He just wants it all to stop, he wants Tony to leave so that he can figure out some way to fix this, to make it all go away-

Tony’s staring at him, mouth parted, dark eyes wide and concerned. "Baby, what- I could never hate you, babydoll." It’s like the nickname comes out instinctually, the sound of Peter’s stutter instantly taking him back to the way he would console Peter when they were much younger, pulling him into his arms and rocking him like his own little baby.

He climbs on the bed and burrows into the nest of blankets and pillows that Peter has created, but he stays sitting up. His arms wrap around his baby brother and pull him up into his lap so that he’s close to his chest, in spite of the younger’s attempts to squirm away. “Calm down, Pete.” Tony presses his lips to Peter’s head when his cries only increase, frowning at how hot the skin of his forehead is. “You’ve gotta calm down,” he soothes. “C’mon, it’ll get better once you calm down, baby, you know that.” One of his hands glides up and down Peter’s heaving back.

Gasping, Peter shakes his head. He buries his face in the space where Tony’s pec and arm meet, taking a shuddering breath through his mouth. He’s trying to calm down but it’s not working. “I’m so- I’m so ssss-sss-suh-sorry, Tuh-Tony!” He feels like he’s gonna pass out. Shifting a bit, he pulls his head back in an attempt to get some more air. They almost make eye contact but he hurriedly looks away. He’s ruined everything. Tony hasn’t reacted to his confession yet but Peter knows that it’s gonna be bad, it’s gonna be so bad when he does.

What’s he got left to lose?

Peter can't help himself; he leans in. The tips of their noses brush, and he pauses there for a moment. He can hear Tony's sharp intake of breath through his own heaving as they finally lock eyes. The look in Tony's chocolate depths is- Peter doesn’t really know. Tony's never looked at him like this before, no one has.

“Tony,” he whispers shakily, breath catching in his throat before closing the distance between them. Time stands still for a moment before something breaks, the tension snapping like a rubberband pulled too tight. Their mouths meet and Peter immediately whines at the feeling of Tony’s lips on his, body instinctively arching up against his brother’s, too lost in it to feel embarrassed of how easy he is to get worked up.

It’s...everything he ever dreamed of.

Tony’s hands move to cup his cheeks, and Peter’s own hands find their way into the other’s dark, wavy locks as their mouths move against each other. There’s a swipe of tongue across his bottom lip, timidly asking for entrance. The younger obliges immediately, letting the warm muscle slide into his mouth where it meets his own. It sends shivers down his spine and he keens when his tongue is sucked into the wet of Tony’s mouth. His dick begins to fill rapidly in his sweats, leaving him feeling lightheaded and a bit disoriented.

Peter’s never made out with anyone before, but this-

He thinks he understands what all of the hype is about, now.

They pull apart, both gasping for air. Tony moves his head slightly, taking heaving breaths that blow onto the exposed skin of Peter’s neck, and his entire body seizes. The elder brother pauses, eyes darkening, before he latches his mouth there and sucking, hard- Fuck, Peter swears he’s about to cum in his pants.

“Tony.” The name is all but ripped from his throat, ragged and wanton and filthy sounding. He didn’t know he could feel this good. There’s precum steadily leaking from the slit at the tip of his cock, and though he can’t see it at the moment, he’s sure there’s a wet spot staining the crotch of his pants.

More moist air on the sensitive skin of his neck, now slightly red from being rubbed by the stubble covering Tony’s chin. “Shit, Peter,” comes the eighteen year old’s wrecked gasp and his hips shift, nudging his own erection against Peter’s thigh. “Fuck, fuck.”

Peter feels like he’s losing his mind. “Tony, Tony lemme- Wanna touch you, please-,” he says, unable to put together a full sentence. The cock he’s been dreaming about for almost a year is within his reach and he doesn’t know how they got here, has no idea what’s going to happen after, but he’s so fucking close to getting what he’s wanted for so long but thought he could never have. His hands flutter restlessly near the front of his brother’s basketball shorts and the bulge that’s pressing insistently against the loose material.

“Yeah,” Tony gasps, shifting Peter out of his lap so that he can lie down on the bed on his side and then he pulls Peter down with him, facing each other. “Me too, can I…,” he trails off, the fingers of his right hand running down Peter’s body from his shoulder down to the sharp point of his hip bone.

All Peter can do is nod jerkily, already reaching to tug at the dark red fabric that’s wrapped around the older teen’s waist. He lets out a desperate, frustrated sound when they get caught, but Tony’s hands take over for him, so he pushes his own pants down to his knees instead. His dick hangs down heavily once it's free of its confines, and there’s a quiet thud as Tony’s slaps against the dark hairs smattered across his lower belly.

Looking at his big brother’s cock for the first time in the dim lighting makes Peter’s mouth water. He can make out the slight shadow of a vein running the length of it, and his tip is big, a drop of precum sitting there just waiting for him to lick at it. He’s bigger than Peter, in both length and girth. It’s perfect, something right out of his fantasies.

Tony rocks his hips forward and their erections rub against each other, prompting them to let out synchronous groans. “Holy shit,” Peter whines, his own hips stuttering as they start to rut against each other in earnest. They quickly get into a slightly stumbling rhythm. It feels so good, their cocks both so hot, so hard. He already knows this is going to be over before it really even starts but he couldn’t care less. “Tony, Tony, yes-”

The brunette all but growls. “That’s it, Petey. Fuck, your cock feels so good, I never- Shit,” Tony pants before spitting into his palm and wrapping his hand around both of their shafts. “Fucking hell-” His toes twitch against the inside of Peter’s ankle. “Pete-”

Peter’s movements get jerkier, his hips stuttering at the feeling of Tony’s wet hand, the way their dicks are sliding against one another. He’s so close, so fucking close. “Please,” he whimpers, fingers digging to Tony’s shoulders where he’s holding on in an attempt to ground himself. HIs tongue licks at his brother’s bottom lip. “Wanna cum, Tony, lemme cum-”

“Yeah, fuck, yes Peter, cum, cum for me-” Tony groans, the speed of his stroking increasing. The rhythm is jerky, and it’s so uncoordinated when combined with their frantic undulating, but it feels amazing.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Peter chants as his orgasm slams into him like a brick wall. His muscles lock up, and there are probably crescent-shaped welts in the skin of Tony’s shoulders and back. Thick, white ropes of cum shoot from his cock and make a mess in his brother’s hand. A whine escapes him as he grows more sensitive in Tony’s grasp.

The feeling of the warm liquid smearing over his erection is what does the older teen in. He crushes his mouth to Peter’s as he cums, fucking into his fist and rubbing against the other’s softening cock, licking lewdly into the wet of his mouth. “Pete,” he sighs, pulling away after he’s ridden out the wave of his orgasm.

“I love you,” Peter whispers contently, snuggling in and pressing a kiss to a freckle on Tony’s shoulder. This is everything he’s ever wanted, to be held in his big brother’s arms like this: like a lover. Maybe he was worried for nothing, maybe everything will be okay. Sure, they’ll have to hide it from everyone, especially Mom & Dad, but once they’re both in college… They have different last names, no one would ever have to know. They could be happy. Peter just wants to be happy, just wants this feeling to stay.

Tony shifts slightly and takes a deep breath, the puff of air ruffling Peter’s sweat-slick auburn curls. “Pete,” he says again, softly. “I love you too, I do.” He pauses, pulling back slightly and loosening his hold on the younger boy and rolling onto his back so that they’re both looking up at the ceiling. “But I-”

Peter freezes, the afterglow fading instantly. His heartbeat picks up, and there’s a slight ringing in his ears. He grips the sweat damp comforter in his hands, fingers twitching restlessly, stroking back and forth over the fabric in an attempt to soothe himself. No. No, no no, this isn’t- Tony- He can’t-

Another heavy sigh. “We can’t- We can’t do this again, Pete,” Tony says into the quiet of the night, still slightly out of breath from exertion. His voice is soft, gentle. He’s trying not to hurt Peter; Peter thinks that’s bullshit.

There’s a lead weight in his stomach. He feels like he’s drowning. He feels like he’s gonna be sick. He feels dirty. He feels-

He’s so tired of feeling.

Tony hesitates before pulling his shorts up and sliding out of the bed. He reaches out, brushing his fingers over Peter’s hand, jerks back when the younger immediately tenses and recoils from the touch. “I’m sorry,” he whispers before hastily making his way to the door, shutting it gently behind him.

“Just go, Tony,” he croaks before rolling over in the bed, away from the love of his life his brother.

Peter lays there for the rest of the night, unmoving, staring at the ceiling, tears running down the sides of his face, seeing nothing.

If only he could feel nothing, too.

***

“Where...where ya goin, Pete?”

Peter is putting clothes in a small duffel bag. He makes a mental note to remember to grab a new thing of toothpaste when he gets his toiletry bag together. “I’m, uh, gonna go stay with Ned. For a few days.” More like a few weeks, but he doesn’t need to tell Tony that.

It’s only been two days since they-

Peter’s already had enough. He can’t be here, he can’t skirt around the elephant that is his feelings towards Tony, can’t handle the awkwardness in the air as his stupid fucking brother tries to go on as if nothing ever happened. As if it meant nothing to him.

As if Peter meant nothing to him, means nothing to him.

Peter can...he can be okay with that. He has to be. But he can’t be here. He can’t.

“What about mom and da-” Tony cuts himself off, and Peter can tell that’s not what he is really trying to ask. Of course he’s so fucking disgusted, so fearful of someone else knowing, that he can’t even say it. No, what he really means is-

“I didn’t tell them I kissed you, Tony,” Peter hisses, tears burning in his eyes. He yanks the zipper of his bag closed, biting back a scream when it gets stuck for a second. “I’m not stupid. Why would I tell them what we did? I don’t want them to hate me, too. Don’t worry about what I told them, they said I could go.”

Maria and Richard are under the impression that Peter’s just stressed about his grades and going a little stir crazy. When they’d talked last night, Mom had frowned gently at him, mentioning how down he’d looked lately and letting him know that he was loved and cherished. Dad had actually been the one to suggest spending some time with Ned; maybe seeing his best friend would help pull Peter out of his funk.

If only they knew.

Tony gapes at him, an incredulous look on his face. “But what about Tuesday? You’re gonna miss my graduation? For what, to fuck around with Ned? Peter-”

Something in him snaps. He clenches his jaw, swallows harshly. Glares tearily at his brother. “Would you please just stop it?”

The taller boy sets his shoulders and crosses his arms, defiant. “I don’t want you to go.” His eyes are narrowed, searching Peter’s face. For what, the younger has no idea. Nor does he care.

“It doesn’t matter what you want, Tony,” he yells, glad that Mom and Dad are out at the grocery store, getting supplies for Tony’s graduation party. His voice cracks on his brother’s name. Always on his name. “Not anymore. I don’t- I know you don’t- Do you know how much it hurts me? To- to hear you? To know, to have to listen to-”

Tony’s mouth opens, but no words come out. “Hear us? You- you heard us? When?” His eyes are wide. He must realize exactly what Peter’s talking about, when he’s talking about, and he looks uncomfortable, vulnerable in a way that Peter’s never seen him before. Something ugly deep inside the younger teen feels satisfied for a moment before it deflates. He’s left feeling just as drained as before.

Tony continues, “Peter, I-” He cuts himself off, looks away.

Of course he can’t even come up with something to say.

“For fuck’s sake, Tony, you don’t have to explain everything to me!” It comes out as a sob. Peter feels like he’s a volcano; the words are erupting and he can’t do anything but allow it, powerless to stop them. “Nothing you say will make it better! I know you’re straight! I know it’s- that it’s wrong. I know Pepper is-,” he chokes, gasping. Why is this happening? Everything is going so fast. How is he freezing and on fire at the same time?

“She’s gorgeous and I’m just the path-th-thetic little br-brother who th-thinks you hung the moon.” Peter’s spluttering, flapping his hands at his sides as he tries to do something with the energy humming inside him. He wants out, he needs Tony to go so that he can finish packing. He has to get out of here.

Tony takes a step towards him. “No, Peter, how could you-”

Peter’s sniffling, eyes squeezed shut. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, trembling. Why won’t Tony just leave him alone? He just wants to be alone. “I know I’m ugly and I- I bet you can’t w-w-wait to go to MIT, to go away from me!”

“Babydoll,” is what leaves Tony’s mouth, so soft Peter almost doesn’t hear it. His hands are shaking as they land on his younger brother’s cheeks. Warm tears are gently brushed away by his thumbs. “Pete.”

Brow furrowed, Peter slowly opens his eyes and blinks the tears back in order to look at his brother. Tony looks...scared? What does he have to be scared of?

Peter tries to pull away, out of Tony’s grasp but the older teen just clutches him tighter. “Tony- What? It’s fine, j-just stop! Let me go, I need to finish-”

Tony closes his eyes and crashes their lips together.

don’t hate me

@spidey-sins @silkystark @thegreenmetblue @snailshome @hp-nv-221b @lemondrop313

if you wanna be untagged lmk

#starker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #starkercest #bloo writes bad things (tm)

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

Hostage Of Your Eyes - 4.

Mob!Bucky x reader.

Part 4 of this series.

Run-through: You accept an unusual offer made by a very familiar, but dangerous mob boss. And despite the bizarre situation and all the troubles that come along; old flames rekindle – and you find love again, where it wasn’t supposed to be.

Themes throughout the series: kidnapping, gang stuff, mentions of violence, smut, fluff, mob!bucky, angst

a/n: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. If you are NOT COMFORTABLE with ANY of the THEMES above, please click away and read something else.

You woke up disoriented.

Unable to figure out where you were in the dark, all you could do was wait. You weren’t tied up, you were simply in a very dark room and you didn’t know what was in there so you couldn’t move around. There were windows, you could make that out with the little light which came from under the door.

It was dark outside, you figured.

The last thing you remember is a sharp pain in your neck, and then passing out in that hotel room in Paris. You wondered if you were still in Paris or did they take you somewhere else.

The mere thought of Bucky caused tears to run down your face.

“I’m sorry babygirl, I hope you can forgive me one day.” Was the last thing he said to you before you blacked out. And given that you were actually taken, that meant that he willingly gave you away to your mom.

But why? The Bucky you knew would never do that. He would never leave you here alone with these people

Or maybe, he wasn’t the Bucky you knew anymore. After all, you had heard that he had become a merciless, ruthless monster. But you never believed anything people said about him because for you, no matter how dangerous he got; he’d always be your Bucky.

Perhaps, he wasn’t anymore though.

---

Some time passed, maybe a half an hour or three hours – you couldn’t tell. Time doesn’t make any sense when you’re in a dark room, in complete silence.

But at some point, someone opened the door and walked into the room. Judging by the silhouette, you figured it was your mom. And needless to say, she came to boast and pick at your wounds.

“Did your little boyfriend give you away so easily?” she asked, her voice making you sick. And her words hurt, Bucky really was the only shoulder you had to lean on, and it seemed as though he had abandoned you.

She turned the light on and you looked around but didn’t recognize the room. You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say to her.

“Don’t you wanna why?” she walked over to the couch you were sat on and smirked down at you. “All for money.”

She continued.

“We had a deal that he’d hand you over to me in exchange for a share of your dad’s property. Which you will willingly transfer to my name once I have the papers ready.” She chuckled. And you felt a weight on your chest.

You didn’t know how to react, all of this was a little too much.

“Are you going to kill me now?” you asked, part of you didn’t care anymore.

“Not yet, I still need your signatures.”

And with that, she left the room.

While your heart was having a hard time accepting that Bucky had betrayed you, the situation you were in proved that he never cared about you. Perhaps all of it was fake, from the very first time he broke into your apartment. The first night he made love to you and told you he still loved you, it was all fake. It was probably all part of a plan since the beginning, and you fell for it. You fell for him. Again.

You cried a lot that night. It hurt, a lot. Because to you, Bucky was all you had and his betrayal hurt more than being stabbed a thousand times. You blamed no one else but you, because if you had kicked him out that first night he broke into your apartment, you wouldn’t be here today. But you had been foolish; one look into his deep blue eyes and he had you under his spell, and you followed him wherever he took you.

You had been so stupid.

---

One more day passed, they did bring some food and water into the room but you didn’t touch it. Your appetite was gone. You were devoid of any feeling or emotion.

You’d hear people walk by the room sometimes, but you never saw your mom again. And you were thankful for that.

Then the day finally came when they let you out of the room. Your mother was there to fetch you and drag you to another room.

“Now sign this.” She spat at you, handing you a pen while her husband cock his gun and had it at the ready, as if daring you to defy them.

You looked down at the paper, but couldn’t read a thing because your eyes began watering.

I wish you were here, dad. You left me in this mess, all alone.

You clicked the pen and brought it closer to the paper and were about to sign away everything that you had but then you heard something. A boom, and then a roar. Followed by the ground trembling just a little and the sound of bricks smashing on the ground. It sounded like several, giant sledgehammers were just tearing the house down.

Then you heard the sound of countless gunshots going off at once, and everyone in the room; you, your mom, her husband and all the other guards ducked as they tried to figure out where it was coming from.

Well, you thought, whoever this is, he’s definitely putting up quite the show.

The air started smelling burnt after a little while, and your mom’s husband shouted at her, telling her to keep you safe and away from this mess.

You knew she would protect you right now only because she needed your signature. So she grabbed the paper, and grabbed your hand and pulled you away harshly. The air was smoky and with the tears in your eyes it was hard to see properly. The commotion was loud.

She pushed you behind a closet of some sort, or it might’ve been a bookshelf; your brain wasn’t working correctly at the moment. Then she got back to the scene. You could hear yelling, and gunshots, and sounds of agony altogether.

A few minutes later, it all got silent. No more shouting, no more gunshots, nothing.

And you heard your mother speak up.

“What the hell is this? We had a deal!” she was hysteric, and pissed off clearly. Your heart pounded as you waited there, in the heavy silence.

Then you heard his voice.

“I hope you enjoyed your last days, you sick bitch.” He said, and then all you heard was more gunshots and then there was silence again.

The only sound you could hear was your racing heart. Why was he here?

The whole thing was too confusing, too much to process and bear. And you hadn’t realized that you were still stood there, hiding. Until someone grabbed your hand gently and pulled you into their arms. You caught a whiff of their cologne and then you realized that it was Bucky.

You looked up at him in shock. He was saying something but you were so surprised that your brain couldn’t register whatever he was saying right away.

He hugged you again and kissed the top of your head and pulled you out of the room, and eventually outside of the house. Once you stepped outside, you noticed the sun was just beginning to set and you still didn’t recognize the environment, but judging by the climate you realized that perhaps you were still somewhere in France.

Bucky pulled you against his body again, hugging you.

“Are you okay, baby? God, I was so w-,”

You pulled away from his arms and cut him off by smacking him across the face with the back of your hand, hard. He was shocked for a moment.

“Stay away from me.” You sounded much more calm than you intended, and perhaps much more bitter and cold.

You saw the shock and the repentance in his eyes as he reached out for you again. “Baby… no, no, no I can explain, let’s just get out of here, okay? My guys are gonna h-,”

You cut him off again.

“James, let me go!” you were mad. Beyond pissed off actually.

But he wouldn’t let you go, he tried to get you to walk towards his car but you weren’t having it. You were relieved that he got you out of that horrible situation, but you couldn’t trust him just yet. How could you, after knowing that he purposely let your mom take you away?

“You’re coming with me.” He managed to drag you to his car and opened the passenger door for you to get in.

But you pushed him away again.

“No! I am done with you. I am done with all of this. I want to go home and as far away from you as possible.” You raised your voice a little, and you could tell he was running out of patience as well.

He sighed and looked at you with a blank face.

“You get into this car with me right now, baby. Or I swear to God, I will-,”

You cut him off by smacking him across the face again. And then one more time. And that’s when he lost it.

“Alright, that’s it!” he grabbed both your wrist in one hand and shoved you inside his car and leaned in to grab your face gently, despite being mad at your actions. “Now you sit still. We’re going home, baby.” His tone was stern but caring still.

And you wanted to be mad but for some reasons you couldn’t. So you kept quiet as he got in the driver’s seat and drove the two of you away from where you were.

He was quiet, and the silence was heavy. It was driving you crazy. This whole thing, everything was a mess.

And you needed a proper explanation for all that happened in the past day or two because it made absolutely no sense in your head. If Bucky did it all for money, then why did he come back for you? And if he really meant to come and save you, then why did he let them take you away in the first place? Why didn’t he take them down while he had the chance back there in the hotel room?

Nothing made sense to you.

a/n: uh oh...

---

Tag List for this series:

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@cinnamon-lady4071

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Seb / Bucky Tag List:

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Everything Tag List:

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Permanent Tag List:

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686 notes · View notes

jawritter · 4 years

Text

Promised Series Masterlist

Story Description:

In a world where your presentation can be a blessing or a curse, a newly presented Omega will come face to face with the harsh reality of Alphas, Omegas, and pack alliances that are expected to be upheld with the union of your two families…

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Complete!!!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Series Tag List:

@spnfamily-j2 @stoneyggirl @onethirstyunicorn @bloo-moon-freak @musiclovinchic93 @perpetualabsurdity @theoneandonlymelol @xhannahbananax03 @xcastielbabyangelface @leahnicole1219

#jawritter #Promised #Promised masterlist #series masterlist #alpha!jensen

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saelwen · 4 years

Text

Your Witcher

Dark!Geralt of Rivia x Shy!Reader

Chapter Nine

Masterlist

Summary: You were a shy girl that worked on the tavern of your town, serving drunken men that came to drown all their problems in alcohol. On one of your busy days on the tavern, you grabbed the attention of a certain witcher. In which resolve you being taken away by the white-haired witcher. (Sorry I´m bad at summaries 😂)

Warnings: none I think, just Y/n becoming really badass

Words:1.500

Days have passed and the beautiful white snake came every day to see you. Telling you that he had broken the spell on Alice which caused Geralt to have a big problem on his hands, giving you a chance to run away from this hellhole.

Each day Geralt would walk in your room and force orgasm after orgasm out of your abused body, leaving you a weeping mess. And each time, the three magical words would come out of his rough lips, making you think that maybe, just maybe he really loved you. No! If he loved you he wouldn´t have made you suffer.

“Do you know what’s in that chest?” You ask the snake, rubbing gently his cold scaled head.

Yes.

His voice comes out rough, almost like a growl. You look down and put a piece of your h/c hair behind your ear.

“C..Can you tell me?” You look to his red eyes hopefully. Since the day that Geralt brought that thing into the house, you wanted to know what is in there. He said that was something for you in there but by his dark smirk on his lips, it may be something that you won’t like very much.

That chest contains your future... and it’s not a good future.

A cold shiver runs down your spine as you heard his words. Your future? What does he mean by that? You think while looking to the chest in the corner of the room, remembering the strange black bottle that Geralt had put in there with such care.

Whispers begin to fill your head, soft and delicate. Shaking your head, you eye the chest suspiciously, seeing the runes craved in there shining bright. It was almost like the chest was calling for you, repeatedly your name over and over.

“What’s happening?” You whisper quietly, looking to the glowing chest in fear as you start to feel your body heavy and your eyelids fluttering shut.

Do not listen to the voices, Y/n! They are evil!

The guardian said with a firm voice, bringing you out of the daze. You rub your hands on your heavy eyes, trying to push away the sleepiness that the voices put on you.

“What’s in there, Guardian!” You asked, this time with a firm voice.

The Guardian sighs and crawls your arm, wrapping his cold body around your shoulders. Outside, you could hear Geralt shopping the thick logs for the fireplace. You could hear also the howls and cries from Alice coming from the cellar, screaming in a rage that she will rip every piece from Geralt and that she will put his head over her fireplace as a trophy.

There is an ancient power inside that chest... A power that the elves would give to their ´pets´ to last longer or to attach them to their world, connecting a human to a more powerful being.

He took a deep breath and crawl to the other shoulder.

But it can cause some severe consequences... some consequences that I'm sure that witcher doesn´t know.

You swallow a lump on your throat and close your eyes, letting some tears fall down. So, you will die in the arms of this monster or worst... became a monster like him.

“I´ve got to get out of here! Please! Take me away from this place!” you plead to the Guardian, fear spreading through your veins as you think about taking some of that horrifying liquid.

The white snake squeezes around your shoulders in comfort and rub his snout against your soaked cheek. Your breath begins coming out in little huffs and puffs, making difficult to breathe. The sounds of Alice howls and Geralt cutting logs starts sounding distant, the warmth around you become cold and starts spinning around.

Y/n! Take deep breathes! It´s alright.

The rich voice of the Guardian echoed in your head but you couldn´t focus on it. You fall down on the soft bed and clench your fist on your sweated chest.

It´s too much! Everything that happens to you in these months, everything that monster did to you. Using you as he wishes, taking away a good life from you and torture your mother figure for his own pleasure. He has to pay for everything! He has to suffer like you did!

Your body starts becoming hotter and your vision was blurry. Looking down, you saw some strange scarlet light coming out from your hands. What´s happening?! You move your gaze to the Guardian, seeing his red eyes wide in shock.

“W..What´s happening?!” you whimper, feeling a sting on your head. Suddenly you start hearing loud voices on your head, forcing a painful cry escape from your lips. ´Why don´t she loves me?! Everything I did to her was to show her how much I love her! She has to know that I know what´s better for her!´ Geralt's voice sounded inside your head, making gasp in surprise.

Turning your head to the side, you begin to hear a new voice. ´I will kill him! I will kill him! I will make him suffer for what he did to Y/n and to me!´ Alice´s snarls echoed in your head. You could hear their thoughts!

“G..Guardian? What´s going on?!” you stutter quietly.

Oh, Gods!... How could I have been so blind! You´re a sorcerous!

Your eyes almost jump from your face as you hear his words. Sorcerous?! How could you be a sorcerous? Looking to the side, a gasp escapes from your lips as you saw your reflection on the large mirror beside the bed. Your e/c eyes were now glowing dark red, your h/c hair was much darker and light reddish glow hovered it along the rest of your naked body.

Y/n! Look at me!

The guardian's voice broke from your thoughts, making you move your gaze from your reflection to him.

You must have many questions right now and that everything is happening all the sudden but you need to listen to me!... I want you to try and channel your powers into your hands. Focus your mind on the power that is running on your veins!

He said quickly a while looking through the small crack on the wall, where he could see Geralt. You nod and took a deep breath, doing what he just said. Closing your eyes, you focus on the strange sensation running through your body. You could feel your veins become warmer as well as your hands. You try to shut down the voices inside your head but it was hard since Alice and Geralt have some quite loud thoughts.

Swallowing hard, you lift your glowing hands and look at them, awe by how they look.

Good! Now put your hand on the chains and let your power run out of your hands.

Nodding, you put your hands on the cold chains and let the strange glow flue from your hands. A gasp fell from your lips as you saw the chains melt like snow, disappearing on the soft sheets. You look to the guardian in awe, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water. The guardian chuckles and wraps gently his cold body around your neck.

Good work, Y/n! Now let´s get out of this place!

---

Geralt sigh as he rubs his hand on his face, cleaning the sweat from his sharp face. Looking up, he sees the fluffy clouds in the clear blue sky. Today was a lovely day and he´s eager to finish his work outside and go to the comfort of his little princess.

Throwing the ax to the ground, he starts picking up the logs to get them inside but as he bends down a loud crash sounded in the house. His head shot up and what he saw made his mouth hang open as the front door opens.

Standing by the door was his princess and the werewolf but what made his mind go crazy was Y/n glowing hands and eyes. What´s going on? How did this happen?! He shot up from the ground and took a careful step forward, studying their movements. Geralt could feel the immense power coming out from his princess. He notices a white snake around her neck, glaring at him with his little red eyes.

“Princes-”

“Shut up! Stay back or I will hurt you!” she snarls loudly to him, making him look in surprise to his princess. “You have been using me and torturing me every single day... You took everything from me!” she said while raising one of her glowing hands, lifting some old axes beside her.

She throws them to him and by inches he could dodge, jumping to the side. Geralt quickly grabs his dagger on his belt and launch to her but Alice grabs him by the neck, lifting him high in the air.

“I would rip this pretty head and hanging it on my fireplace.” Alice snarls lowly to him. “But it seems the Y/n has other plans for you.” with that she knocks him out with her fist and the last thing he saw was a wicked smile that he used to have on Y/n lips.

Hello Beautiful People!! So, what do you think? I was thinking that maybe it would be good to make Y/n begins to face up Geralt and make her a little badass and yes, i made Y/n powers looking like Scarlet Witch 😂. I hope you like it and feel free to comment and tell me what you think!!

XOXO

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arawynn · 6 years

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Oh, sorry. I claim it with Bucky

Okie dokie :D

#bloo-moon-freak

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seouledbysisi · 5 years

Text

Moonlit

Chapter 4

Sapphire

Riley

Riley nor Sapphire had seen the inside of the building since the interior designers had started their work. It wasn't completely finished but enough had been done to see the vision of what it was meant to look like.

Sapphire gave the building a peculiar look as she examined the color schemes.

Riley eyed her for a moment. “What's wrong? You have that look.”

“It's. . .not exactly what I expected. It's really different from Moonlight in Vegas.”

“Saph, it's supposed to be different. It's two different clubs.”

Sapphire sighed. “I guess I'm just scared that it won't be enough to appeal to the people here.”

Minho cut the lights. “Look up!”

Sapphire was taken aback as she saw the ceiling. “Wow!”

“Now, do you think it'll be enough?” Riley asked as she admired the paint. The ceiling literally looked as if they were stargazing. The painted moon shined effervescently.

“Minho, you're good at what you do sir.” Sapphire noted.

Minho chuckled a moment. “Thank you!”

She nodded as she continued to stare up at the completely covered ceiling. “I could literally lay on the ground and stare at the ceiling all day, that's how gorgeous it is.”

The entrance door opened with laughter from several men.

Minho straightened his tie. “I think that's our first meeting. Boy, are they on time.”

In walked three men.

“First?” Sapphire looked at Riley with a strange expression.

She shrugged. She was just as confused she Sapphire.

“Hey fellas, how are y'all?” Minho greeted as he stuck his hand out.

The tallest guy stuck his hand out as well. “Nice to meet with you. Ladies, you as well.”

Riley smiled as her cheeks began to warm up a bit. What the fuck is happening to me? She rubbed her cheeks for a moment. “You as well. I'm Riley and this is Sapphire and we are the proud owners of this new club.”

Sapphire simply nodded.

The other two guys had wandered off to get a better look inside.

“I'm pH-1, that's my rap name. I've actually been to your club in Vegas before. It gets lit!” He said with a shy smile. “I was telling the other guys about it.”

Sapphire clapped. “Well I'm glad you enjoyed being there. This one will be pretty similar but there will be a few differences but not many.”

“It'll be litty too, maybe even more with you and your crew onstage.” Riley added with a quick wink.

pH gave her a small smile. “I'm down for sure and from the looks of it they are too!”

“Man, look at the ceiling! That shit dope!” The shaded guy spoke loudly.

The other guy hit his arm. “Language bro!” He chuckled a bit.

“It is dope!” He continued.

“I'm Sik-k, and this is Woodie GoChild. Nice to meet y'all.”

Sapphire's eyes widened a bit. She turned to talk away quickly.

Sik-k met eyes with pH. “Did I say something wrong?”

Riley immediately followed her to one of the back rooms. “What is up with you, girl?”

“That guy out there-” She tried to catch her breath, she didn't know why she was freaking out but her anxiety was starting rise up.

“Which guy?” Riley asked as she peeked back out the door. The other guys were having their own conversation.

Sapphire took a deep breath. “You remember when I left my wallet at home, when I was buying us coffee?”

Riley nodded. “I vaguely remember. What about it?”

“I swear that guy with the shades looks just like the one who paid-”

“for our food?” Riley finished.

Sapphire threw her hands up. “Yes! But that can't be him, right?”

“I mean, it could possibly be I guess.”

“But what are the odds? And he never mentioned being in the entertainment business either so probably not, right?” She was second guessing everything. She was making a fool of herself.

“What person is really going to say 'oh by the way I'm famous.' if you didn't recognize them already?” Riley snickered.

Sapphire covered her face. It was flushed.

“Just take a deep breath, it's probably not him after all. He didn't seem to recognize you.” Riley giggled and pulled her back out of the room.

Sapphire stared at ground when they made it closer to the guys.

“So, do we have a deal guys?” Riley asked as she clasped her hands together.

pH-1 looked at the others guys.

“You know I ain't turning it down, if this place is as good as this guy says it is I wanna be apart of it.” Sik-k answered.

Woodie took his shades off. “Hell yeah! I'm ready!”

Sapphire looked into his eyes and at that moment she knew it had to be him. She immediately adverted her eyes.

Woodie cleared his throat. “I know you don't I?”

Sapphire looked at Riley quickly. “He's talking to you, honey.”

“Uhh-you probably don't.” Sapphire lied.

Woodie came closer so he get a good look at her. “Phire, right?”

“Phire?” Riley exclaimed. “Well okay sis!”

Sapphire looked away. “Oh yeah you helped me out at the coffee shop. I forgot all about that.” She laughed nervously.

“Coffee shop?” Sik-k said to pH-1.

He shrugged. “I haven't heard this before.”

Woodie lifted an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe that you forgot about me.”

“Is that so? Why do think that?” Sapphire countered.

“I knew the moment you recognized me, you ran off. It was obvious.” Woodie smiled a bit.

Sapphire rolled her eyes a bit. She cursed herself for being so obvious. “I just needed to take a moment to myself. It had nothing to do with you, don't flatter yourself.”

Woodie tipped her chin. “Keep lying to yourself, it's okay. I know the truth.” His thick accent kept peeking through with every English word he spoke.

After their second meeting with MKIT Rain was finished they all decided to grab a bite to eat. The guys decided to tag along too.

Bloo sat across from Sapphire coincidentally. “So, how long are y'all going to be staying here or are y'all just opening the club and going back to the states?” He asked the ladies.

“It just depends. Right now we have no plans of going back to live for at least another year but things could change.” Riley answered.

Sapphire continued to chew on the delectable spicy chicken she had ordered. She pushed the Ramen aside.

“You don't like Ramen?” Bloo inquired.

Sapphire swallowed her food quickly. “I do, I'm just enjoying this chicken first. I like to eat one thing at a time.”

“You must be one of those people that don't like their food touching too, right?” He laughed out loud.

Sapphire sighed. “Actually I couldn't care less about it touching for you information.”

“You have spunk, I like that.” He added.

Sapphire smirked. “Most guys do.”

Bloo couldn't resist smiling but kept his mouth shut.

“Loopy, you're actually quiet this time around.” Riley giggled.

Loopy wiped his mouth. “When there's food involved I ain't got a reason to be talking.”

Riley laughed loudly. “I feel you, dude!” She gave him a high five.

Bloo cleared his throat. “So, you fucking with Woodie Gochild?”

Sapphire choked on her chicken. “Wh-what?”

Bloo chuckled unamused. “Do you fuck with Woodie Gochild?”

Sapphire took a sip of her water quickly. “Why would ask me something like that?”

Riley eyed Bloo for a moment, she sensed a small sign of jealousy.

“When we walked into your club he was eyeing you like you were his possession.” Bloo answered as he sipped his beer.

Sapphire paused for a moment. She hadn't noticed that look from Woodie but regardless, Bloo was probably just reading things wrong. “I'm not fucking with anyone. I'm here for business, I barely even know anyone here.”

“Could've fooled me but however if you want someone to show you ladies around I could. We could all hang out.” Bloo offered.

“That's sweet of you.” Riley answered.

Sapphire continued eating. “Yeah, thanks. Just let us know when.”

#h1ghrmusic #haon #sik-k #ph-1 #woodie gochild #aomg #mkit rain #bloo #loopy #k hiphop #seoul #rappers #stories #short story #soft hours #fanfic #kpop

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