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p---ink · 4 years

Text

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though.

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems.

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self)

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it.

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.”

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.”

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch.

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared.

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.”

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker, after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath.

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her.

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present.

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered.

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been.

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words.

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep.

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat.

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him.

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case.

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her. “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels, and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious.

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain.

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car.

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat.

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable.

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way.

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification.

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl.

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question.

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted.

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long.

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt.

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained.

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips.

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing.

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all.

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield.

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her.

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?”

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him.

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one.

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous.

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked.

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment.

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.”

“Say please.” He teased.

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied.

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him.

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin.

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans.

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties.

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat.

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member.

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down.

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her.

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue.

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there.

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin.

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him. She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips.

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her.

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky.

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her.

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core.

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried.

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest, becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better.

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm.

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her.

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her.

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny.

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence.

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue.

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined.

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window.

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure.

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning.

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried.

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button.

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers.

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say.

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone.

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip.

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life.

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair.

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed.

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake.

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came.

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted.

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat.

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high.

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly. “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.”

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them.

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin.

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare.

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her.

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?” She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop.

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.”

A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error.

#peter parker x reader #Peter Parker smut #Peter Parker x black!reader #black!reader #Peter Parker fluff #spiderman x reader #marvel smut #marvel imagines #spiderman #Peter parker #black reader #smut #dark!peter x reader

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lazarettta · 3 years

Text

The Babysitter

Characters ( Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader )

Rating (T) Word Count ( 2.9k) Warnings ( None, bad flirting, writing while intoxicated)

“For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

It was another late night studying on the living room floor of the Mayfair-Richards household. It wasn't uncommon for you to spend a majority of your nights here during the week and sometimes the weekend if you were needed and you usually weren't. Not that you would've minded anyway, your weekends weren't busy—mostly spent either dead asleep or trying to get out of plans you didn't want to be a part of anyway to get more sleep.

But it wasn't everyday that you were able to work for a Senator either, so even if you were busy, you weren't going to tell Ally Mayfair-Richards that. Not that she was a mean boss or anything, she was the Senator for crying out loud. And...okay yes, maybe you idolized the woman a little though it may be because you're studying law but honestly who wouldn't idolize this woman? She went through so much shit getting to this point in her life and career.

And she was hot. She was really hot but you kept it in your pants, but your eyeballs? Different story. You were just grateful that she chose you to watch her son when she was away, especially after you knocked over your entire cup of tea in her living room on the very carpet you were sitting on, and you were just a hot mess.

You thought you blew the whole thing, but the moment she produced the NDA to you a few days later when she called you back for a 'second interview' which included Ozzy this time, you'd been ecstatic and nearly knocked over another fucking cup but Ally was faster than you that time.

The giant TV was playing in front of you across the room but it was just the news channel but the volume was pretty low because Oz was asleep upstairs and you weren't really watching it anyway, you had your airpods in listening to Beyoncé and trying to create a decent scenario for one of the ten theories your professor assigned. It was due the next day so you thought picking the easiest one would work in your favor but it was turning out to be your worst nightmare—and you'd regretted choosing sleep over this, kind of.

You'd been so engrossed in your work, and music, you didn't hear the front door open and shut somewhere behind you or hear Ally quietly talking on the phone, her high heels click clacking on her polished wood floors as she came into the living room. Ally paused slightly at the sight of you and her coffee table, your books and yellow pads scattered everywhere, your head bopping slightly to whatever you were listening to as you scribbled away.

Ally smiled softly, and continued on her way upstairs to check on Ozzy knowing that she was going to find him safe, clean and fast asleep with a full belly. You'd been his nanny for four months now and you were such a blessing for Ally, she'd been reluctant to hire and trust another person with her baby boy but her career was too demanding and Ozzy was only ten. He could stay home alone for a few hours maybe, but not days or even a week or two.

After everything, Ally did have cameras around her home on the outside and she had one directly over the stairs because it overlooked the foyer and parts of the living room from an angle. She didn't want too many camera's inside of her home in case they were hacked but she wanted something at least.

Ozzy's room was dark except for his nightlight by the door and Ally quietly made her way inside, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing his curls from his face. She was ever thankful that he finally stopped having those horrible nightmares, it meant that she wasn't wasting her money on therapy sessions.

When Ally came back downstairs, you were predictably in the exact same spot you were in and Ally finally did away with her coat, placing it over the spine of the sofa and she stepped out of her heels before coming around and plopping herself down, careful not to knock over your stack of books.

The sudden movement startled you out of your skin and you quickly pulled out your airpods and looked at your boss, “Hey! Sorry, how long have you been home?”

Ally smiled down at you tiredly, practically sinking into the sofa and you could feel her exhaustion rolling off of her in waves, and you couldn't help but sympathize because damn, and you thought you were tired.

“I just got in, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, things got busier than I expected and then everything went into chaos.”

You smirked when she threw her hands up half heartedly with a roll of her eyes, “Would a glass of wine help?”

“No, but it would definitely be a start if you join me for a glass?” she raised an eyebrow, and as much as you wanted to say yes you've already procrastinated enough and you really didn't need alcohol in your system around her lest you say something you absolutely shouldn't.

“I would but I have to finish this and it's getting late. Do you mind waiting up until my Uber gets here?”

“It's really late, you should just stay the night, (Y/n).” Ally sat up then, waving away your comment, though now she was closer and hovering over you a bit, “I'll take you home tomorrow after breakfast, that sound fair?”

It wouldn't be the first overnight stay but it would definitely be the first time that she'd be home too and you just couldn't say no to that even though you probably should have insisted more that you go home, but you accepted her offer without further debate. You'd gone back to your assignment, minus the airpods this time, and Ally got up to go to the kitchen and you could hear her fixing herself a glass of wine.

Ally set a bottle of water next to you on a coaster before settling back in her spot and finding something to watch on TV, and of course you noticed that she was a hell of a lot closer than she was before.

Your pen had paused on the yellow paper and your eyes glanced over the same sentence three times before your mind processed that you could practically feel the heat from her legs next to your arm through her slacks, and if you leaned just an inch you'd be touching her. You fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, but instead you looked up from beneath your lashes and saw that she was browsing the movie channels at a snail's pace.

Behind you, Ally was sipping her wine in one hand and flipping channels with the remote in the other but her eyes were nowhere on the TV screen. But she noticed the moment your pen stopped moving and your shoulders tensed more than usual, she'd been watching you closely and curiously.

“You okay, honey?”

You turned around to answer her with what you hoped was a calm smile and wished that you hadn't, really. Ally was going to kill you sitting the way she was sitting, her energy screaming big dick and the top three buttons of her shirt were undone and her hair was a little messy. Either she was going to give you a heart attack or your libido would.

“Sweetheart?”

You blinked, coming back to reality so fast you would’ve gotten whiplash, “Uh, yeah...maybe I guess I’m just tired too.” Yeah right.

You chuckled nervously, embarrassed really, and licked your lips again and Ally tracked the movement with rapt attention not that you would've caught it because you were busy being mortified being caught staring like a creep.

“Are you sure? You look flushed, drink some water,” you smiled at Ally, ever the mom.

“I’m not—” not what? Thirsty? Yeah you were but not for some water.

“You’re not what?” Ally pressed, still holding you hostage with her eyes alone.

“Not thirsty for water.”

Ally raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips twitching and you hate that you noticed, “Oh? Then what would you like to drink if it’s not wine or water?”

Good question. One you didn’t have a good answer to. Not trusting yourself to formulate words into an appropriate sentence, you just nodded and turned back around and grabbed the water she brought you. You were determined to ignore until you were finished with your work—for the sake of your sanity and dignity.

Fuck.

Still watching you, Ally laughed quietly into her wine glass and finally settled on a movie, keeping the volume low as she got comfortable. Deciding to let you off the hook for not answering her question. (This time.)

A few days later...

It was another late night for you but you weren't working for Ally tonight, so you went to the gym instead after studying. You were still wearing your tights and sports bra when you left, only throwing on a jacket because the night air and sweat weren't a great mix.

You didn't have anything at home to eat that wasn't expired or so frozen it came from the ice age...it all went in the trash so all you had left in your fridge was a case of water and cheese sticks. It wasn't surprising though, you spent a majority of your free time at Ally's home and you just ate lunch and dinner there usually. So you went straight to the grocery store after your workout with your trainer.

“Hey (Y/n)!” you looked up and internally groaned, rolled your eyes and threw a whole bitch fit.

You offered Sean a tight near sarcastic smile, “Sean. What is up.”

“Nothin',” he said, leaning against the counter he was standing behind with a cheesy smile, his eyes leering—and it made your skin crawl, “Just working...you?”

“Uh,” you were already over this conversation, “Same, anyway—”

“You still work for that crazy killer lesbian?”

You stopped, pivoting back around slowly to see if he was joking or not, of course it was hard to tell because he was looking at your ass, but the minute he turned around his eyes laser beamed to your chest. Specifically your pebbled nipples and the bars pierced in them. You moved the labels of your jacket to cover them fucking pig.

“Uh, my eyes are up here and two, that 'crazy killer lesbian' is your Senator.”

He shrugged, “I didn't vote for her.”

“I'm...okay, it was nice talking to you but I have things to do.”

“Well, wait,” he moved in front of you, stopping your escape, “That's not what I wanted to talk to you about actually, uh, but listen...do you maybe wanna go to dinner with me this weekend? My treat?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed with his audacity, “You literally just called my boss a crazy killer lesbian and now you're expecting me to go to dinner with you?” as if, you wanted to add but held yourself in check—barely.

“I'm sorry about that,” Sean only shrugged but he was bashful about it but it only served to irritate you further because it was obvious that he didn't quite mean it and you were mentally slapping yourself for just not ordering that damn pizza.

“Whatever, goodnight Sean.”

you tried to move around him but he shifted, keeping you in place and you knew you could've just turned around, you should've but he would've just followed you, “Well wait, you never answered my question. About dinner?”

“No.”

“Well, wait a minute...why not? The lesbian thing? It was just a joke. You can take one, can’t you?”

“And I'm not laughing, get the fuck outta my way Sean—”

“You—”

“I believe she told you to fuck off.”

Sean's eyes snapped up over your head slightly, and you would've laughed at his stupid face had you not been pivoting around yourself, your eyes meeting a very familiar chin and you looked up, but Ally's eyes weren't on you but instead glaring daggers into Sean. He'd be ten feet under if she got her way with that look. You wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. (Maybe another version of it...)

“S-senator?”

“Oh, I'm not the crazy killer lesbian anymore? How disappointing.” when Sean could only stare at her like a fish out of the water, Ally stepped forward—a lot closer to you and you didn't have the strength to move or even look away, “I believe you were told to leave. Oh and if I even hear that you looked at or said anything to (Y/n) incorrectly, you're going to have a lot worse than a harassment complaint from a Senator to deal with.”

You didn't see him leave but you heard the squeaks of his sneaker and in seconds flat you and Ally were alone in the cereal aisle and you had absolutely no idea how to even breathe at the moment, much less process that she just saved you from...whatever that even was.

When Ally was satisfied that Sean was gone, she finally looked down at you—there was still a fire in them that you couldn't place but her brown eyes were softer than they were a few seconds ago, and you felt your shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

You cleared your throat, taking a small step back—but you still felt exposed under her unblinking stare though not in the same way you felt with Sean, it was the complete opposite, “Yeah thanks to you, so um thanks...a lot. Your timing is impeccable, but what are you doing here so late? Where's Oz? Is he okay?”

Ally smiled at you, shaking her head disturbing her always perfect hairstyle, “Oz is fine, or at least he will be, he must've ate something today at school and it's not sitting well with his stomach,” Ally rolled her eyes but not at the fact that her son had food poisoning but that he had food poisoning from the school lunch. She could only imagine that other children—reforming school lunches was already on her agenda but now she was seriously considering moving ahead of schedule.

“Oh no, how bad?”

“Not too bad...he'll be okay, I'm just here for medicine to stock up on,” Ally reassured you, her eyes flickering over your shoulder for a second, “What are you doing out so late?” and wearing that? She mentally added, but held her tongue because she knew that it wasn't her place to comment on your attire—not that she was complaining about it, but Ally just didn't like the way Sean was leering at you either. She was a hair away from showing him how she earned her title.

Suddenly aware of how much skin you were showing, and that your jacket fell open again but unlike with Sean you didn't feel the need to really cover yourself (even though you knew that you should've). You appreciated her eyes more than his...and probably anyone else's.

“Oh, I went to the gym and since I don't have any food at home...”

Ally chuckled, “Is this your way of asking for a raise?”

“No! No, no you pay me plenty...I'm just too busy to cook is all and then I'm just too tired to eat sometimes. College life.”

“I was teasing, welcome to adulthood. It doesn't stop,” you laughed along with her but you both knew there was truth behind those words.

“I shouldn't keep you, I know you have things to do.”

“You know, I doubt you're going to get a decent nutrient meal here tonight, especially shopping while you’re hungry...” Ally hummed, seemingly thinking hard about something before opening her mouth to carefully speak those words, “You're more than welcome to come home with me for a late dinner if you have nowhere else to be. I'd be more than happy to feed you.”

Heh. Feed me what? You blinked, mildly surprised with how fast your mind went straight to the gutter and you felt your face heating up faster than a house fire, and you had no doubt in your mind that your boss knew exactly what she was doing to you.

But she didn't, Ally didn't have one clue to what was happening in your mind because her own mind was a pile of scrambled eggs while forcing her eyes to stay above your neck. You were both very much still in public.

And the last thing Ally wanted to do was make either you a cliché, especially with her being a public figure in a male dominant career field, both in politics and her restaurant.

“Unless you had your sights set on cereal?” Ally coughed lightly, suddenly nervous and you realized that you'd been standing there staring at her like a moron this whole time.

“No, I'd love to come home with you,” you said cheerfully, meaning every damn word for different reasons, and you smiled at her, before your eyes widened when realizing how forward you sounded, and suggestive as hell, “For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

Direct result after two blunts...sorry if it's kinda lame tho lmao I went in thinking I was writing smut and gave up somewhere

#ally mayfair richards #ally mayfair richards x reader #ahs cult #ahs x reader #sarah paulson #ahs imagine #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader

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nlights37 · 3 years

Text

Fixer-Upper Tease: The Final Installment

Okay kids, we're in the home stretch with my favorite grouches (and maybe yours, too, who knows), so here's a little morsel from out final installment, a little taste of what to expect in this last chronicle of Joe Snow and the newly-minted Mrs. Snow. Enjoy!

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

“Oh, Dan-YER-US!”

Dany stared numbly at the phone in her hand, the screen long since gone dark, still so shocked that she couldn’t force even the slightest noise past her lips.

She should, actually. She really should remind Jon that his newest gag of addressing her by every mispronunciation of her name possible, submitted to him by telemarketers if he was lucky enough to catch the landline, was getting old.

But she was too stupefied to respond, and he was making himself laugh, moving further into the house, the solid thud of Drogon jumping down from his cat tree and onto the hardwood below firm evidence that Jon was heading her way. She could hear his chuckles bouncing down the hallway as his voice grew louder. “Dan-yer-us Tar-jerry-an?”

Her lungs unfroze enough to allow a huffed exhale.

A knock sounded against the door of their shared office, now that his place was their place, and he waltzed in, holding Drogon like a football and rubbing his knuckles against the old cat’s jaw as her husky boy began to rumble. “Hey,” she breathed out, eyes wide, her limbs still somewhat sluggish to respond in the wake of her phone call. “It’s Dan-yer-us Snow, asshole.”

Jon held his hand up in mock surrender. “My mistake,” he drawled, seeming to notice as the seconds ticked by that she was very much not quite herself. Gray eyes narrowed and settled straight on her face, his amusement quickly replaced by growing concern. “What’s going on?”

She squeaked, then winced, and finally forced herself into motion. “Everything’s fine,” she said soothingly, not as convincing as she’d hoped when he cocked his head to the side and looked at her skeptically. “I’m just…,” she floundered for a moment, searching for a way to describe this disorienting storm of happiness and fear and nervous excitement, “Surprised? Yes, that’s good. That works.”

Her husband of two surprisingly awesome months (well, not surprising really because of course she’d known deep down this would work, but still there had been that little whisper of fear, of everything that had gone wrong for her before beginning again, and she felt silly even admitting it to herself) remained a hard sell. “And what, Mrs. Snow, are you so surprised about,” he checked his watch, “at 4:17 in the afternoon?”

“They want to publish it.” Saying it out loud made it seem even more outrageous, because she’d never actually thought anyone would want to publish her little labor of love for the Hardware King himself.

Jon’s brows drew together. “Publish what? Oh, Gods, Dany, not my nudes. Not my beautiful catalogue of tasteful nudes.” His forced horror melted away the moment she yelped his name indignantly and thumped him on the shoulder.

“The book, Jon, and please,” she scoffed, “if you had nudes I would already have made them my lockscreen.”

Jon snorted and rolled his eyes, leaning down to deposit Drogon near her bare feet. “The book?” He swatted away errant cat hairs from his t-shirt. “Which book?”

She made an exasperated noise, dancing away from his newly-freed and wandering hands, over to the built-in shelves tucked into the corner. “This book, Jon.” His brows flew to his hairline as he spied the book in her hands, the one she’d made him for Christmas, now displayed out of reach after Ghost had swept it from the living room table in one wide brush of his tail.

Oh.” He settled finally on her face. “The book.” Then he considered her quietly, a long contemplative silence passing before he crossed to his chair and sat down, bracing each foot on the floor so the rolling seat wouldn’t budge and patting his crossed leg invitingly. “Step into Joe Snow’s office.”

Shoulders slumping with a resigned laugh, she dropped herself into his lap, leaning in automatically as he wrapped an arm around her, the other dropping to her knee as she settled against him. “Hey,” he whispered, and she craned her neck up to meet his eyes. “This is a good thing, right? I mean Rhaegar’s been on you for awhile about getting it out there, and you were really pumped, remember?”

Dany nibbled on her lip for a moment. “Yeah,” she sighed out, tucking her head into the space between his shoulder and neck. “But I don’t know, I guess it just feels really personal? I made that for you.”

“Aye,” he said gravely, the arm around her back shifting so he could slide his hand to her ass and squeeze. “To declare your undying love for me.”

Wrinkling her nose, she threw him a glare, which deepened as he grinned. “You are so annoying, Jon. I hope you appreciate what a saint I am for tolerating all of your nonsense.”

“A regular 'Baelor the Blessed', Dan-yer-us, that’s what you are.” He squirmed a little as she fished a hand between them and pinched lightly along his ribcage, her put-upon expression softening his own as he stopped needling her. “Okay, listen, I get what you mean. But to the rest of the world, like the 99.99% that doesn’t know us? They’ll think it’s a fun story about the grouchiest fucking pets known to mankind.” He paused, only to find Drogon glaring at him from his renewed perch on the cat tree. “Case in point, old man, what are you looking at?”

“He knows you’re slandering his good name.”

Jon snorted and flicked his finger at the cover of the book she still held in her hands. “You literally titled it ‘Grouchy’, Dany, so maybe his fight is with you, not me.”

It was a good thing he made being insufferable so attractive, it really was. And she understood what he meant, all his jesting aside. The butterflies in her stomach began to settle, as she let out a hard breath and relaxed once more against his chest. “And you don’t mind?”

“What?” He looked at her as though it was the most ludicrous thing she’d ever said, the title formerly held by her declaration that putting ketchup on macaroni and cheese was something psychopaths did. Which probably hadn’t helped as he’d been in the act of doing that very thing, when she’d said it. “Dany, why would I mind?”

Dany gave him a small smile as she gazed up at him, and shrugged. “I made it for you, Jon. I mean, your dog is in it. You are in it.”

“Just the top of my head,” he interjected with mock sternness.

She just sighed and rolled her eyes, because honestly, his instinctual disagreeableness was one of her favorite things about him. It made her own perfectly allowable. “You know what I mean, Joe Snow.”

“Do it,” Jon said firmly, not an order, she understood that, but he was casting his vote. “I hope it makes a shitpot of money. I have plans.”

“Oh?” Her question, coupled with a sarcastic raise of his brow, earned her another squeeze of her ass.

Jon nodded with a quick jerk of his chin, perfectly sure. “Oh, yeah. See, the way I figure, it’s destined to be a hit, with me as your muse.”

Dany scoffed, just before a giggle escaped. “Ghost, you mean. Ghost was my muse. And Drogon.”

Jon relinquished his hold on her ass to slide his hand upward, patting comfortingly at the top of her head. “Whatever makes you feel better, love.” Then he winked and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Besides, either way, seems to me I’m headed straight down the path towards my dream job, the role I think, frankly, I’ve been destined to fill.” His voice had taken on a dreamy quality, as he stared away, now, at the wall opposite, where several of her drawings were tacked up to a corkboard, a drafting table he’d built for her situated just below. “It’s fate.”

“Do I want to know?” He side-eyed her at the droll question, and huffed.

“Look at me, Dany,” he said, head lifting imperiously. “I’m clearly meant to be a trophy husband.”

#fixer upper #jon x dany #jon and daenerys #fic teaser #my fics #modern jonerys #jonerys

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

Note

hi wolfie it is i, the ramen man, i was wondering if you could write a prompt based on a baking competition tv show ? maybe even christmas themed if you want ?? no stress if you can't/don't wanna write it, i love u 🥺

This got... long? So you can also find on AO3

__________

Jaskier wasn’t stressed. He’d made this recipe a thousand times. It was his speciality! No one made better chocolate brownies than he did but his presentation let him down. They were messy, gooey and delicious but this was a competition. They needed to look good too. He whined as he sat in front of his oven. Who made chocolate brownies for a cooking competition? Oh god he was an idiot.

He glanced around the room. Valdo Marx was busy finishing up his winter spiced cake and it smelled absolutely divine; the bastard. Plus he’d brought along some holly sprigs to make the whole thing look a bunch more christmassy. Jaskier had baked some orange slices to decorate his brownies. He also had some edible golden glitter for the top and a few spun sugar decoration for good luck. His secret ingredient though was Cointreau. The orange liqueur kept the brownies extra gooey in the centre without them being too rich.

He stared into the oven, chewing his bottom lip anxiously as he ran a hand through his hair. They were almost done. There was a shiny film over the top that would give the brownies a nice crunch. If he did well with these he would get into the next round; the final round. In that round they hand to create gingerbread houses, well more palaces. They had to absolute architectural masterpieces and he was shitting himself. Like his brownies, his gingerbread tasted amazing but it wasn’t always pretty. They were delicious and wonderful but not much to look at on the surface.

He’d only gotten so far because they tasted good.

“Come on, come on, come on!” He muttered and pressed his face against the glass.

He really needed to at least get to the final. There were smaller cash prizes for all finalists and the publicity from the competition would do wonders for his little bakery.

“How’s it going?” Triss Merigold, one of the presenters asked.

He shrugged. “Not much I can do until it’s finished baking. It always goes much faster when you’re watching this at home.”

Triss laughed. “Clever editing.”

“I just hope I’ve done enough,” he sighed. “Maybe I can charm the judges with my guitar skills instead…”

“Ah yes, they said you play. Is that a hobby?” Triss asked with forced politeness.

Jaskier scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Well, I wanted to play as a kid. I was going to be the next John Lennon but you know how it is. My gran taught me how to bake and I became addicted. I still write my own songs for my YouTube channel though.”

“Wow! That’s amazing!” Triss made it sound like the least amazing hobby on the planet.

Luckily the oven timer went off at that moment and Jaskier was able to crack on. He pricked the brownies to make sure they were cooked through before setting it aside to cool. Whilst they were cooling he grabbed his tray of sugar decorations and the orange slicer.

“Bakers! You have five minutes!” Triss called out.

“Oh bollocks!” He groaned. He wasn’t going to have enough time to let it cool before decorating. Luckily the brownies tasted better warm but they were also harder to get out of the tin in one piece. He whined pitifully but dug a knife around the edge of the tin before slicing the brownies into the neatest rectangles he could manage. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The camera man glared at him for swearing but he just stuck his tongue out. He was stressed, he was allowed to fucking swear! They were crumbling in his hands as he moved them to the plates. He cleaned up the crumbs as best as he could before showering them with edible glitter. He arranged the baked orange decorations as best he could so they looked slightly less terrible and then finally delicately placed the spun sugar on the top, only breaking two of the little shits in his hands.

“And stop!” Triss yelled and all the bakers stood back from their stations.

Valdo Marx was smiling smugly. His winter spiced cake looked fucking fantastic. On his other side stood Priscilla. She’d made cupcakes that were elegantly decorated to look like snowflakes, each one slightly different and beautiful. Next to Priscilla was Essi Daven. Her chocolate Yule Log looked amazing, Jaskier almost believed it was a real log.

Oh he was so going out.

He sighed and plastered a fake smile on his face as Yennefer Vengerberg re-entered the room.

“Time’s up bakers. You are apparently the best of the best but only three of you will make the final round. My expectations are high. I’m sure you’ll disappoint.” She smirked at them, violet eyes flashing dangerously. “Sadly, it is not only me that you must impress with these bakes.”

Jaskier felt his eyes widen. Shit, he’d forgotten that they brought in a second judge in this round. The bakers never knew who would be until they were introduced but it was always a famous chef and Jaskier suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Please welcome, my ex-husband… Geralt.”

Jaskier let out a pitiful whimper as Geralt fucking Rivia entered the room. The man was only his celebrity crush. He would be fine. It was going to be fine and holy shit he was even more gorgeous in real life.

Fuck.

“Now, as I am sure you are all away, Geralt and I have never once agreed on anything except our daughter. So this promises to be fun.” Yen drawled sarcastically.

Geralt chuckled and crossed his arms in front on his chest. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt and Jaskier’s entirely life was suddenly just Geralt’s arms.

They were so big.

“That is precisely why I was invited, Yen,” Geralt muttered with a fond smile. “Evens out the vote.”

“My vote is fine on its own.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.”

Jaskier zoned out the rest of the conversation as the other bakers made their way to the front to be judged. He was too entranced by the god stood before him. The long silver hair that was pulled up into a bun, revealing the oh so sexy undercut. Jaskier watched Geralt’s lips part as he tasted one of Priscilla’s cupcakes. He got some frosting stuck on the corner of his lips and Jaskier desperately wanted to help him lick it off, but instead Geralt’s tongue flicked out to catch it. Jaskier was weak.

He zoned back in long enough to notice with great satisfaction that Valdo’s cake was under-baked and a little bit shit, not even holly could save it. So Jaskier was still in with a chance, and then it was his turn. He was hoping the brownies would still be warm. If they’d cooled down too much then his presentation would probably fuck him over.

“Buttercup?” Yennefer raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “If you could stop drooling over my ex for two seconds, tell us about your… brownies?”

Jaskier’s fingers flexed and he tugged nervously at the edge of his shirt. “Ah yes. Umm. Hi,” He stammered and blushed as Geralt winked at him. “Brownies, orange. Chocolate orange brownies,” he swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. “I used dark chocolate mostly but there are chocolate orange chunks in there too, any orange flavoured chocolate is good. Orange zest, orange juice and umm.. oh ah, orange liqueur.”

“Aren’t you concerned the orange will overpower the chocolate?” Yen asked sharply.

Jaskier shrugged. “I make these every year. They sell well at the bakery.”

“Smells good,” Geralt noted.

“The presentation is shocking,” Yennefer countered.

“Yeah,” Jaskier admitted with a sheepish smile “but I can do better. If you give me a chance.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re running out of chances.”

“Yeah but I’m cute.” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them. He clapped his hand over his mouth and blush furiously. “I am so sorry!”

“Hmm.”

“Let’s just taste them shall we?” Yen suggested.

Jaskier nodded, still hiding behind his hands. “Please.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and he yelped.

“Relax, Jaskier,” Geralt murmured in a low voice.

Jaskier’s blush deepened and he smiled up at Geralt. Oh those eyes were like honey, so warm and inviting. There was still a small smudge of frosting on his lips that Jaskier hadn’t noticed before but now he couldn’t stop staring. He wondered if Geralt tasted as sweet as he looked. “Thanks, Geralt.”

“Geralt, stop flirting and taste the freaking brownie.”

“Yes, dear,” Geralt sighed.

Geralt took a bite of his brownie and fucking moaned. A quiet whimper escaped Jaskier’s lips. God he was going to melt on national television but he didn’t care. He’d had a chance to meet his favourite celebrity and Geralt had liked his baking! It was honestly life goals. The only thing he had left to tick off was his wedding to Geralt by the coast. That had always seemed like an unreachable fantasy that helped him sleep at night but now Geralt was right in front of him… it didn’t seem quite so far away.

“Fuck,” Geralt moaned. Jaskier chuckled, that would have to be beeped out in the final cut. “This is amazing!”

Yennefer looked surprised as she tried her own forkful of brownie. “Not bad, buttercup. Not bad at all. It melts in your mouth.”

“And the orange is actually subtler than I expected.” Geralt gave him a fond smile and Jaskier had to remind himself how to breathe.

“Ah, umm. Thanks, Thank you, Geralt.”

“It looks like dirt,” Yennefer said cooly “but it tastes heavenly. Presentation has always been your weakness, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened. Yennefer hadn’t called him ‘Jaskier’ since the first round when Triss had mentioned it was Polish for buttercup. “I know. I know!” He whined.

“If you get through to the final then you will fail miserably unless you can change that,” she added with a raised eyebrow.

“Taste won’t save you, no matter how cute you are,” Geralt smirked.

“I know. Wait hang on what?!” Jaskier stammered at Geralt’s words.

“You did good, buttercup. Well done.” Yennefer said firmly and rolled her eyes. “We’re done here.”

“Thank you, Yennefer, Geralt,” He nodded, definitely not still blushing as his gaze landed back on Geralt. “Thank you.”

____________

Jaskier screamed into the cushions as he threw himself down on the sofa. He’d fucking done it! He was in the final! He’d never imagined in a million years! Not to mention that Geralt Rivia thought he was cute. He wondered if he would be able to get Geralt’s autograph or whether that was just weird considering he was one of the judges.

“Jaskier?”

Jaskier rolled over so he could see Geralt, forgetting that the sofa wasn’t that wide and falling onto the floor. “Oh fuck!”

“Are you alright?” Geralt asked as he came over to help him stand up. Jaskier gripped Geralt’s forearm as he was pulled to his feet.

All other thoughts left his mind as he stared at the muscles in Geralt’s arms.

“Arms…” He blurted out. “I mean! Shit. Umm, oh god.”

Geralt just laughed and steadied him on his feet. “Look, I wanted to ask…. once the show is over and I’m no longer a judge. Did you want to get dinner?”

Jaskier gaped at Geralt. “I’m sorry what?”

“Unless I’ve completely misread the situation. Fuck. Sorry. Look you can say no, I won’t score you worse because of it,” Geralt paled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “We’ll pretend this never happened.”

“No, Geralt wait!” Jaskier grabbed his arm. “Yes, ask me again after the final but yes. Dinner sounds great.”

Geralt smiled faintly and nodded. “Great.”

“Great,” Jaskier repeated. “It’s a date!”

Geralt nodded again. “I have to go. We shouldn’t be seen alone together until after the final.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

“Good luck, Jaskier.”

Jaskier grinned dopily as he watched Geralt walk away. It looked like Christmas magic was a real thing after all. “Yeah, you too.”

Wait. You too? Oh fuck it. _____________ Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @victorieschild @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @scribblesonmapleleaves @thecomfortofoldstorries @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @ohheytheremiss @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday @kozkaboi

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier pankratz #triss merigold #modern au #christmas prompt #wolfie's witcher writing #ramenyul #winter prompts

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queenofspades20 · 4 years

Text

Recruiting tricks

Synopsis: Y/n and Loki have been dating for a few months. Y/n is part of the Avengers, but not well-known (does mostly undercover stuff, so it’s better that the public isn’t aware of her). Loki, as part of his punishment from Odin for trying to take over New York, works with the Avengers. Loki has been with the Avengers for about 6 months. At first, he did not get along with most everyone, but as he proved himself, everyone generally got along with him now. Y/n does not have powers, but was trained in the Red Room after Natasha, who had gotten her out before her graduation. Y/n had been with Shield ever since.

Y/n goes undercover to train with new recruits, to see who would be a good addition to the team. Loki and her plan a fight to mess with everyone.

Pairing: Loki x Reader; Loki x Y/n

Warnings: some descriptions of fighting, implied smut, slight knife play

Word count: 1,276

So, this is based off a dream I had the other night. I’m not sure where this came from but not complaining when I dream of Loki.

“Alright, recruits!” Steve yelled out. “Fall in!”

The group of 20 people and Y/n fell into lines. Y/n kept to the back, wanting to scope out everyone and see who would be the best fit. She wore an earpiece, so Natasha could discuss her thoughts on each of the recruits and give Y/n instructions on how to test them. While Steve was in charge of the physical, Natasha was in charge of the mental. Some of the other Avengers were in the gym, wanting to see how the recruits did with Steve’s obstacle course he and Bucky had designed to test the physical limits of the group. Y/n had already done the course with Clint. She didn’t want to be distracted by the course while testing the recruits.

Steve moved in front of them, his hands on his hips as he looked around. He was dressed in tactical pants and a tight black t-shirt. Bucky stood to the side, his black and gold arm gleaming in the light. A few of the recruits kept glancing at him in interest. Steve was explaining the course to the recruits.

“They better not try anything,” Y/n heard in her ear. She had to control the smirk that threatened hearing Natasha being jealous over attention to her boyfriend.

“You know he only has heart eyes for you, Nat,” Y/n said quietly. She knew how to talk without being noticed from years in the field, a trick taught to her by Nat.

“I know but I don’t want to have to break people.”

“I’ll do it for you. Or I’m sure Loki will help me, give his chaotic side a little exercise.”

“I vote for Loki to do it then. As much as I know you can do it and you’d have fun, I’d like to see what Loki can do.”

“I assure you I would do a most excellent job.” A cool voice could be heard coming from Y/n’s left. Loki was using his magic to keep him concealed and was getting ready to reveal himself when he heard his name come up. “I would hate to let the Black Widow down.”

“What about me?” Y/n asked with a slight pout. Steve was coming close to the end of his talk.

“You, Darling, I would never let you down.”

Y/n felt Loki’s cool lips ghost along her jaw. She held in the shudder that threatened. She bit her lip, turning her attention to Steve. She didn’t want to give away what was happening, though she knew Steve and Bucky could hear everything with their enhanced hearing. Loki pressed a soft kiss to just under Y/n’s ear.

“Shall I begin the festivities?”

Bucky’s eyes flew to where Y/n stood. While he had an idea of what Y/n planned to do with Loki, he wasn’t sure how far they would push it. He fully trusted Y/n, whom he had known for years, and generally trusted Loki, but knew Loki, as the god of Chaos, could still do something that they didn’t approve of.

Loki moved further to the side and made his presence known with a flash of green light. Most of the recruits jumped at the sudden appearance of the god.

“What do we have here?” Loki drawled out. He was dressed in his fighting armor, wanting to make an impression on the recruits. He slowly walked over to the group.

While the Avengers knew he was on their side (most of the time) and it had been reported by a few news stations, it wasn’t common knowledge that he was working for good now. All of the recruits were on edge, watching Loki intently. Y/n put on a bored face. Steve and Bucky pretended to tense up, preparing to fight.

“You mortals, so weak. Always looking to belong somewhere.” His eyes went over the group, trying to get a sense of who would try to prove themselves. “But, in the end, you will always crave subjugation. In the end, you will always . . . KNEEL!” Loki yelled as he got to Y/n, his face close to hers.

“Wow, so original,” Y/n said sarcastically. “I’m good. Feel free to kneel for me though.”

Loki reached out and wrapped his hand around Y/n’s neck and lifted her off the ground. Y/n’s hands grasped onto his forearm, holding some of her weight up. She kept her face controlled, pretending to be slightly panicked.

“I kneel for no mortal,” Loki gritted out. He was using his magic to keep her from choking, though she had told him the night before he didn’t need to when they were practicing it out.

Most of the recruits had backed away, with two of them running forward to help Y/n.

“There’s always a first time.” Y/n put her foot on Loki’s thigh and kicked herself out of his grip. She did a flip in the air and landed lightly on her feet, slightly crouching. The two recruits rushed forward and tried to hold him down. Loki easily threw them off and moved towards Y/n again. The recruits landed on their backs. The rest of the recruits were too far away to be of any help. Steve and Bucky moved forward but made no move to stop Y/n and Loki, wanting to see them fight it out.

Y/n and Loki proceeded to spar, Loki magically making his daggers appear. The pair moved gracefully, almost like a dance. Y/n had managed to get one of the daggers away from Loki. They were taking swipes at each, with Loki making a few strategic cuts on Y/n’s shirt. Finally, Y/n managed to get the upper hand and knocked Loki on his back. She had knocked his dagger out of his hand and held her dagger against his neck. Y/n leaned down with a smirk. “Bet I can make you kneel for me.”

“You are not just a mortal, Darling.” Loki’s face was soft.

“Oh, that I’m completely aware of,” Y/n said as she kissed his cheek. She dragged the dagger along his neck lightly, not pressing the blade. Loki shuddered and his pupils blew out.

Y/n got up, though not before subtly grinding her hips into Loki’s, and helped him to his feet. She looked at the two recruits who had tried to help her. “I say keep those two, lose the rest.”

Steve nodded. “Agreed.”

The two recruits, a male and female, looked pleased with themselves. The rest of the recruits looked angry. One of the guys spoke up, “But it was all planned.”

“Anyone who tried to help, even if they didn’t know the outcome, shows they have what it takes. The rest of you didn’t move. We need people who will run towards danger and not hesitate. We help people.” Steve recalled his own experience with a dummy grenade pre-serum. “This was a test. You two,” he said pointing to the two recruits, “stay. The rest of you are dismissed.”

Y/n walked up to Steve. “We were going to wait for after the obstacle course, but I didn’t want to run it today.”

Steve shrugged, while Bucky laughed. “You saved us some time. Your demonstration was more effective than my course could have been. The new recruits can run it for training now.”

“True. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Loki and I have something to finish.” She grabbed Loki’s hand and practically dragged him towards the door. “Oh!” she exclaimed and reached into her ear to remove the earbud. She tossed it to Bucky, who caught it easily. “Don’t need Nat listening in again.”

After Y/n and Loki rushed out of gym, Bucky could be heard yelling, “Again?!”

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #Loki Laufeyson

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abarbaricyalp · 3 years

Link

@winterfalconweek

WinterFalcon Week prompt 3 (Aug 21) : Fake Dating

Here’s the plan: Get into Stanford by adding class officer to his application. Become class officer after becoming popular. Become popular by dating a football player. Date Bucky.

Rated T: coming out discussions

(Excerpt)

We Live Such Fragile Lives

"What's this?" Sam asked, staring at the blue jersey suddenly in his hands.

“It’s my jersey,” Bucky said like that answered anything.

“Yes, I can see that,” Sam agreed. “Why do I have it?”

“Because it’s game day. Girlfriends, er...partners, wear jerseys on game day and then give ‘em back after the last bell for the game.”

“Okay, well, we’re not actually dating,” Sam reminded him and held out the jersey. “So you can keep this.”

Bucky pushed it back to Sam. “If you want people to think we’re dating, you have to wear the jersey.”

Sam considered if class president was worth all of this. And then he remembered the way his parents looked when that Stanford letter came in.

Your file was referred to us by an educator … We’re very interested in your case … Your academics are outstanding … Your projects are original and just what we’re looking for … Keep up the good work, fill out your resume with a few more leadership roles your senior year … We’ll be interested to meet with you in the spring .

“God, this is so stupid. And possessive,” Sam said as he pulled off the t-shirt he’d come to school in and yanked the jersey on over his head. It was itchy and smelt like bad detergent and also Bucky’s room. Kind of papery, kind of boyish, kind of cologne-y. But the jersey had been in the bottom of Bucky’s backpack so that was probably to be expected. “Look at me, I belong to a football player. It’s my one claim to fame in this school. It makes me worthwhile,” he continued to drawl sarcastically, shoving the ends of the shirt into his jeans.

“You shoulda tried out for the team,” Bucky said and when Sam looked over at him, he was appraising Sam appreciatively.

“I don’t know the first thing about football,” Sam pointed out and smoothed a hand over his stomach self consciously. “I don’t even know what position you play.”

“You can’t tell?” Bucky popped a hip out. “I’m a tight end.”

Sam rolled his eyes and threw his shirt at Bucky’s face. Bucky laughed and tossed it back. “Hey, all the guys and...partners eat together on Fridays, so you have to sit with us at lunch.”

“Oh my God, you’re a cult.”

“Hey, you want the popular vote. Gotta hang with the popular crowd.”

“Not that kind of… That’s not what popular vote… I said class president is a popularity contest. I coulda just as easily hung out with your crowd and been seen the same way.”

“Nah,” Bucky said. “Being friends with a football player and being girl--fuck-- boy friends with a football player are not the same thing. Ask Steve. It hasn’t earned him any extra points.”

“ Steve did not toss aside his morals and start eating lunch with your empty-headed friends.”

“Lunch is not a moral issue.” The warning bell for first period rang and Bucky stepped over to lay an exaggerated kiss on Sam’s head. “I’ll see you at lunch, babe,” he said as the first students trickled into Sam’s AP Bio class.

Again, Sam pressed his hand to his stomach to calm the butterflies losing their mind within it.

#winterfalconweek2k21 #sambucky #sambucky fanfic #sambucky fanfiction #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon #winter soldier #captain america #writing #prompt week

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christian-oc-tournament · 4 months

Text

Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Rocoroi Markus Mikko [Heyhoo Slipper! @forever-singing]

Mikko is a 7-year-old Hungarian Romani boy, living in a Children's Home from the age of 5. The Hungarian childcare system is highly dysfunctional to the level of chaos and absurdity, which he recognises and sort of uses to his advantage. Mikko's intelligent and sarcastic, his peers describe him as grumpy, his teachers as a trouble-maker, one of "those bad kids." He is mischievous and enjoys messing with others, he has a keen sense for the vulnerable spots of others, but never touches upon them. He is in fact protective of people, with a strong sense of justice. He would never admit it, and his trust was betrayed and broken so often that he tries to avoid it, yet he often grows faithful to the ones his loves. In the Children's Home he teaches the younger kiddos to "swear" by making up creative non-swear alternatives, which by the time he's 18, results in a whole generation of kiddos yelling "flop", "flipflop" (which is a type of slipper), and various (often word-play-i) alternatives. (Otherwise the older kids and teens, and so often the toddlers are cursing 3x within the most mundane sentence.) He wears a worn-down blue hoodie every day that he refuses to take off, even on the hotest summer days, as underneath he is made to wear a t-shirt with a smiley face and some stupid print about happiness and positivity on it. To top things, the good-willing lady who gave them in donation to the Home made sure that he won't outgrow them and donated various sizes. What a bliss and blessing! Mikko is an idealist who had every tale and hope he believed broken by the age of 5. He used to believe that Mom-Dad-and-Children going to the zoo was one of the fairy tales made up for fun in kindergarten. Turns out, life is a whole mess. His fear is that everything they say is true, and he'll end up like "all the others."

Rosemarie [Scarecrow @katiethedane12]

She's a hufflepuff but she's kinda like "it's not my problem if I can't see it" you know? She's a musician and has a German shepherd, she has a garden too.

#christian oc tournament #round 1 #group 7 left side

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a-lonely-tatertot · 4 years

Text

Finding Home

First / Wattpad / ao3

A/n: Another one done another one done! A longer chapter than the last, and the wait was because a lot of stuff came up and i didn't have much motivation to post because i was concerned that no one really cared about this so um yeah sorry

words: 6065

Tw: mentions of injuries and blood if there's others please let me know

Chapter 7: One Hell Of an Exit

It had been three days since Dex told him Fitz left, three days since the pit in his stomach had started steadily growing. What hurt the most wasn’t Fitz actually leaving, it was the fact he told Dex instead of him. Some best friend, he thought.

Keefe sighed and sat on one of the cots in the Healing Center. Elwin’s office had become home after a year of working as his assistant. Days went by, mindless and boring; they rarely got kids. Tam and Linh’s class often had the most injuries, sending in at least a kid a day because some idiot decided to go against the rules. But they were gone now, and Alchemy instructors were finally being more careful, actually watching the kids when they had dangerous chemicals, but it left the Healing Center bare. Somedays, as he played yet another round of cards with Elwin, he wished that at least one kid would get hurt so he could do something.

Elwin did his best trying to fill the silence, teaching him new things. But Keefe knew that worry that came off him in waves, that concern that never really left after his coma. It had gotten stronger after Fitz left, keeping a watchful eye on him. Searching for pain that was there but Keefe was just too good at hiding it. No matter how many times he told Keefe that he wasn’t Cassius, that he would always be there, the wall between Keefe’s emotions never came down.

“We should go see the Celestial Festival,” Elwin said, startling Keefe. “It’s next week and we haven’t been out much. I do always love Orem’s lights.”

Keefe hummed in response.

“I think Biana plans on going; we talked about it the other day.” Oh. So that was Elwin’s plan. Make him talk to people again. What was the point of it? Pretend that half of their friends didn’t get the great idea to hightail it out of this hell hole to be normal people for once? To pretend that they actually knew what they were without a war to fight?

“I bet with a little persuasion you could get Dex and Marella to come,” Elwin continued.

“Yeah, maybe,” Keefe whispered softly. Why did he agree? Keefe pretended he didn’t know, but deep down under things, he didn’t want to look at he knew he was lonely. That he missed his friends. So why not take advantage of the few who were left?

The festival lights were insane. He stood with Biana as the council stepped to the stage, her determination flew off her in waves and he marveled at how far she had come. The way she held herself, scars on full display, mouth set, she looked older than he was used to. But when she glanced at him, through the flashing lights, her eyes were playful and mysterious and Keefe almost let out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t completely left and grown-up without him too.

Dex and Marella stood at his left, Dex holding some sort of snack over Marella’s hands as she lit a small fire, letting out a whoop when it just barely toasted. Keefe grinned with them, surprised at how far the two had come with their own fears of Marella’s fire. Biana tapped his arm, gesturing to a patch of grass a little ways from them and to the blanket in her hands. From there they had the perfect view of the light show, grinning ear to ear as they appeared in the sky. None of them talked of who they wished was there, and none mentioned the last time they’d watched the lights. They avoided topics flawlessly that they knew brought too much pain and weaved their way through, making their uneventful lives seem important. Honestly, the only semi-put-together person on that blanket was Biana; unlike the rest, she always knew what she was meant for, there was a fight in her that wouldn’t settle for anything less than a better world.

The rest of them were basically just melting mallowmelt.

Eventually, Biana had to leave, and the others ended up back at Elwin’s with a unanimous vote of we’ve-got nothing-better-to-do. They raided the kitchen and grabbed whatever snacks they could find before climbing the stairs to the roof.

They laid there for who knows how long, staring at the stars in silence. “What do you think the others are doing?” Dex asked into the dark.

Keefe sighed. He honestly didn’t want to know but spoke anyway. “Probably doing taxes.”

“What the fuck are taxes?” Marella asked, propping herself up on her elbow.

Keefe chuckled, “Horrid, horrid things.” They lapsed into silence again, the only sound being the scattered animals roaming Spendor Plains. Keefe always thought the name was stupid, but he’d given up on trying to get Elwin to change it a long time ago.

“I want to go,” Marella declared. Keefe glanced at her, but she was staring at the sky; Dex had the same puzzled expression on his face. Finally, she continued, “I’ve got nothing other than people who don’t want me here.” Her tone sounded defeated and honestly, he agreed.

“I’ll drink to that,” Dex laughed, half-heartedly raising his cup of Lushberry juice to the air in a mock toast. After his new power surfaced people stopped believing he could control it. They avoided him on the streets, they hated the fact that he worked with Elwin. It didn’t matter that he had won a war for them, the fact that his mother had started it and had turned him into something dangerous was enough. He glanced at Marella and Dex, knowing they were thinking the same.

A few minutes passed when, “Then let's go.” It was Dex this time, he had sat up, the others following suit. “They hate that we’re here. That we saved them. They hate that Sophie and Fitz left, their Golden Heroes. We’re the screw-ups that are still here. Hell, look at us. The son of a bad match, a pyrokinetic, and a fucking mystery.” Keefe grunted, he’d been called worse. “We might as well find somewhere to belong.”

Keefe clapped sarcastically but he could already feel the addicting buzz of adrenaline in his veins. “Well said, fellow outcast,” he laughed. “But if we do this we’re not leaving quietly like the others.”

Marella nodded a grin taking over her face as she stood. “Buckle up boys, we’ve got one hell of an exit to plan.”

Around 1 am (Keefe thought it was one am, he didn’t actually know at that point), Elwin came out with a plate of snacks. Keefe didn’t have time to register what half of the things were when his attention was brought back to the sheet where he had sketched up the layout of a building—that Marella was marking exits on. Dex watched them, laying on his stomach with his chin resting on a pillow and messing with his device.

At some point they had moved inside, spreading along the couches, their ideas scattered in a chaotic order. Keefe didn’t quite remember when Elwin said he was going to bed, too wrapped up in whatever the others were saying to him. He glanced at the clock; its ticking hands read 4 am. He smiled around the room, Marella sprawled dead to the world asleep on one couch, Dex on the other sitting in a curled ball messing with something that Keefe couldn’t see. Right then, as he sat with his back against the wall and eyes drifting, Keefe couldn’t think of anyone else he’d want to leave with.

Keefe paced Elwin’s office like a mad man. He couldn’t sit still, not with the buzzing and churning in his gut. When Keefe would let out a heavy sigh Elwin would glance up smile lightly before going back to his work.

“You know,” Elwin said softly, after Keefe’s fourth round of the Center, “I’m still not entirely sure what I’m going to do when you leave.” In surprise, Keefe looked up to find Elwin with watery eyes. Keefe halted and stared, shocked, to say the least. The realization of how much he meant to this man who had taken him in after everything he had done when his own father didn’t want him. He didn’t quite know what to say, he wasn’t used to this raw emotion that came off of Elwin in waves. Finally, Keefe’s face melted into a sad smile.

“You’ll be okay without me,” Keefe said, for once sincere. A beat of silence passed where Keefe could practically feel Elwin trying to think of something to say without crying. Without Keefe crying, cause Keefe really didn’t like crying. “Plus,” Keefe smiled to try and break the tension, “You and the other parents can have weekly get-togethers about how much you miss our annoying little faces!”

Elwin let out a harsh laugh, “Yeah I guess we can.” Suddenly Keefe found himself wrapped tightly in Elwin’s arms. It still took him a second to remind himself not to tense up, that it was Elwin’s way of saying “I love you.” He felt tears welling in his eyes from the thought that it was real, that he wouldn’t see Elwin for a long time. He buried his head in his father’s shoulder and fisted his hands in the back of Elwin’s shirt.

“I’ll miss you,” Keefe said finally, willing his voice not to crack.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Elwin reassured. “We’ll be okay. You need this, and when you’re ready you’ll come back home.”

Reluctantly, Keefe pulled away, “What happened to me reassuring you?”

Elwin laughed, “We both know I’m much better at the reassuring.”

He smiled at that. Yeah, maybe he’d miss this place, but he had a whole world to rediscover. A rustle of paper coming from under the door jostled him out of his thoughts. It was from Dex, his cue to get moving. In small words it read:

“headed to the meetup point, all devices ready on schedule - TM"

Keefe grinned and turned to Elwin, "That’s my cue! See you tonight, Dad.” He let the title slip out, Keefe had never called him that before except in his head. Before he could see Elwin’s reaction he turned and was out the door.

Weaving his way through the deserted corridors, he found his way out of Foxfire to the courtyard, running to the leap master and hastily yelling out for Marella’s house.

He arrived to find Marella already waiting for him outside, duffles around her. “You ready?”

With a nod, they grabbed the bags and headed to the leap master, places to be. A minute passed and all three of them, Dex, Keefe, and Marella, found each other standing outside Biana’s office door. Getting in was the easy part, since Biana was gone the house was empty.

“You ready?” this time Dex asked, Keefe was confused about why, after the night they’d had and the plan they’d put together, they’d think to back out. “After this, there’s no turning back,” Dex said, eyes drifting to Keefe and Marella.

Marella grinned, all teeth. “Come on boys, we hit the point of no return the minute we decided to leave.” Promptly, she stuck her lock picks in the hole and twisted them around until they all heard a faint click. It was Keefe’s turn to grin as Marella swung the door open and marched her way in. He followed, placing the duffles in the center of the room, Dex came after him and whistled at the flamboyant decor.

The far wall was almost entirely glass, sun streaming in and lighting the entire room. A desk sat with trinkets and papers scattered. The wall where they entered was covered in bookcases. There was a small nook that wasn’t covered in poorly organized books. A dark wood frame surrounded a drawing that Keefe had given her; it was of the entire crew, a sort of sequel to the one he had given to Sophie all that time ago. They had been laying in her room after the twins left, a week before Fitz would too, and they had both confessed that they missed them. Sophie, Tam, Linh, how rarely the entire team would get together because they had no reason to. No war to fight, no reason they’d need to get together. Keefe thought that growing up fighting a war made them all forget how to have a simple friendship.

Before falling asleep that night he decided to draw something to remind Biana of them. He would never forget the way Biana’s entire face lit up when he handed the painting to her. He softly smiled at the memory.

“I found the crystal!” Dex called from the other side of the room, half stuck in a drawer. “Marella, are you almost done?”

Marella, who had one foot on the seating part of the chair and the other on the back, was trying to balance on two legs of it with one circular disk in her mouth and the other in her hand, trying to place it on the ceiling. “Well I would be if Keefe would get his butt over here and actually do something!” she grunted. Tried to at least, her words came out muffled and confusing, but Keefe got the idea quick enough to grab the chair before she fell.

“Oh my god,” Dex muttered. “I’m going to be the one making sure you two dumbasses don’t die, aren’t I?” In unison, Marella and Keefe grinned at him and he groaned. With one last little hop Marella got the device on the ceiling and planted the other on the bookshelf. Keefe placed one under Biana’s desk, and next to the door on the wall. It all hit them at the same moment as Keefe armed the last disk, and Dex drew out the letter they had written up on the roof.

“I think I’ll miss her,” Dex said finally; Marella nodded. And finally, it felt like a bright neon sign, right in front of him, blinking bright and loud, and somehow all along he had missed it. The only reason the three of them had stayed was Biana. Keefe, who knew her as his little sister. Marella who she knew as a friend that no matter what was there. And Dex, as the person who stuck by his side when Sophie left him and waited to return the favor. Maybe it was poetry, maybe Keefe was connecting dots that weren’t supposed to connect but it made him want to laugh.

“Yeah, me too, but we’ll see her before we leave,” Keefe reminded him a bit forcefully. If he were in that office any longer, he’d convince himself to stay. Marella took the note from him to read over again before leaving it. “Let’s go, we’ve got four more places to hit.”

Keefe didn’t wait for an answer and ended up making it to the leap master before the others. It took a few minutes, but finally, they were all there calling out for Foxfire.

It was dark, everyone had gone. Keefe didn’t quite understand how time zones worked with jumping from Biana’s house, which the sun was just then setting, and Foxfire where it was already dark with the moon high. Granted, he didn’t really try.

Foxfire, being much bigger than Biana’s office, forced them to split up. Dex took the top levels, Keefe took the middle, and Marella the ground floor. Keefe slung his bag of disks over his shoulder and made his way through the classrooms. It was slow work, finding good spots to put them in each room and through the hallways, with the bag which felt like it held a bunch of rocks.

The job went by in about an hour, even though it felt much much longer, and he finally made his way back down to the courtyard. “What took you so long?” Marella laughed as he came out rubbing his sore shoulder. “Don’t forget we’ve got more to do!”

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbled. “You guys done here yet?”

Dex poked his head out from behind one of the trees and said, “I’ve got two more left.“

Keefe could tell that the ones in his hands were the only ones he had left from how his bag looked much lighter. "So we can mark Foxfire off the list, ey?” Marella asked.

“Only three more places to hit,” Keefe grinned.

Dex rolled his eyes, “That’s not counting the spots inside those places. It’s much more than you think.”

Keefe just laughed in response; they were so close. To being free, to running away, the thing Keefe was so good at. Running, and well, making one hell of a lasting impression. That was really their plan.

It was a short time till they found themselves in Atlantis weaving their way through the back allies to find the shed they had left the next batch of devices at. Dex reminded them, yet again because “everything has to be perfect”, that Marella was taking the treasury building—which sounded entirely boring, which was why Keefe had opted out. Keefe would be taking the various transportation locations, and Dex the business district (also boring). Their rendezvous would be the monument of Linh, Sophie, and himself when they had saved Atlantis. Keefe remembered making some horrible joke about the monument when it was built, something about how they didn’t get his hair in all of its glory, but then, after seeing it again, all he could think of was how much he regretted that his stupid crush had gotten in the way of actually being able to get to talk with Linh. He wondered how many of the others he’d neglected ‘cause of it; he wanted to groan at how stupid he was.

“You good there, Goldie?” Marella asked.

“Why am I Goldie? You’ve got blonde hair too."

"Okay, yeah, but my hair is more pale than gold. And plus I deserve something much cooler than ‘Goldie’."

Keefe shook his head, "Okay, Braids.”

Marella, who had started to walk off, threw a smile over her shoulder. “Could use some work!”

“I didn’t have enough time!”

“Excuses! I expect something better when I come back!”

“Oh, so I’m getting graded?” Keefe shouted, but she was gone and he was left standing alone. Slinging his bag over his shoulder he headed to the nearest light leaper. There were about five of them across the city that only lead to other light leapers inside Atlantis. He had five devices, the smaller ones that would reach only the light leaper itself and the edges of surrounding buildings.

In total it only took him about twenty minutes to leap to each spot, find a hidden location to hide the device, arm them, and then leap away. Marella and Dex had more to cover than him so he found himself sitting at the edge of the fountain, fiddling with the KMD, as they had ended up calling them. Dex arrived first, grinning and clearly riding an adrenaline high, with Marella in tow. “All set?” Dex asked.

Keefe stood. “Yup just as you planned, Techmaster.”

“Wait, why does he get a cool name?” Marella gasped.

“I like him more,” Keefe deadpanned. Dex smiled and did his best to look innocent (which he was really good at for some reason) and Marella rolled her eyes.

“Don’t just stand around; we’ve got places to be!” Dex called, already headed for the whirlpool.

With a chuckle, he and Marella followed. Mysterium was next, in Keefe’s opinion the most boring of their stops but the way that Dex’s face lit up when he spotted Slurps and Burps whirling and glittering in the distance made it worth it. Dex beamed with something like pride and it was infectious. Keefe shook his head slightly, at how easy it was for him to grin, at Dex’s face that was entirely dorky, and at Marella who smiled somewhat mischievously as she placed her devices. It was quick and easy work placing the devices while Dex dropped off the letter—almost identical to the one they had left Biana—at Slurps and Burps. They waited as Dex made his way back to them and practically ran when they could see him. There wasn’t as much time left as they had hoped; the sun was supposed to rise in about two hours, leaving them barely enough time to cover all of Eternalia. Keefe reached the leaper expecting the others to be on his tail when he turned around, but they weren’t.

His eyes scanned fervently and finally found Marella and Dex standing off to the side, staring back at the Slurps and Burps. Keefe wanted to laugh at the scene if it wasn’t so serious. Marella, stoney, sarcastic, quick-witted Marella, had her arm over Dex’s shoulders like she was pulling him in for a hug. Keefe raised an eyebrow at her when their eyes locked over Dex’s shoulder and her face turned hard. Speak of this and I will kill you, was the message Keefe read loud and clear.

After what seemed like ages, the pair made it to the leap master seemingly still emotionally intact and Dex with a new determined look in his eyes. As Keefe called out for Eternalia he couldn’t help but feel a new rush of adrenaline crash over him.

Now to tackle Eternalia it relied on many moving parts. Part I, the councillors homes. Each of them had two disks, set to cover a larger distance, and needed to place one in between every two towers. Keefe, along with his two devices, also was in charge of the KMD, which was to be placed on Alina’s tower. When they were still scheming Alina’s tower was the obvious choice of who they’d want to annoy the most. Alina’s surprisingly wasn’t the hardest to find, of course, being the most glittery and the most bright even in the dark. Just as he placed it he saw three flashes in the distance, Marella’s signal, marking her to finish first. Once the device was placed Keefe sprinted to his last spot when- CRASH!

He sprawled on the ground, head aching and pain shooting up his arms. Fuck, he thought eloquently. Curses slipped from his mouth as he tried to stand. He managed to pull himself to his knees to determine just how screwed he was. He had rough spots on his palms that were bound to bruise, a huge scrape down his arm, a busted lip from the way he could taste copper in his mouth, and from how much his head ached, he had probably cut his head too. His legs were probably worse; luckily, he couldn’t actually see the extent of his injuries because of his pants (and from the pain he could feel he honestly didn’t want to see it).

He was fine. This was fine. He would just push past the pain and get himself through downtown than he could figure it out. It was just a fall. A fucking painful fall, his brain supplied unhelpfully. He saw three green flashes in the distance and cursed again. Dex was gone too.

He needed to get moving, and he needed to get moving fast. Keefe grunted, took a few breathes, and managed to get his feet. It was a bit harder to leap with an injury but he managed, and after placing his last device, he found himself in downtown.

Dex saw him first, delight turned to concern turned to worry until he was rushing to him. “Why are you bleeding? Why are you beat up? I leave you alone for five freaking seconds-"

"What happened?” Marella came up behind him with more annoyance than concern on her face.

“Well, I was going to explain to Gears over here-”

“Gears? Really?”

“-but I don’t think he knows how to keep quiet,” Keefe finished.

“Start talking, now."

Keefe sighed, "I fell.”

Marella stared at him, “You fell, and did this?”

“It was a very mean rock!”

“Oh, my Ancients-” Marella breathed clearly trying not to laugh.

“You’re benched. we’ve only got a few more left anyway,” Dex said, still eyeing his injuries. Keefe honestly didn’t have it in him to argue. Though it didn’t stop him from snatching the other KMD from the bag next to him and securing it to the ground with only a few winces.

He watch as Dex and Marella placed the last couple of devices. They were clearly talking about something urgent, and from the way, Dex kept on glancing his way, it was probably about Keefe, but he wasn’t close enough to hear and honestly, it was getting on his nerves. What was so important they couldn’t tell it to his face? Probably something you won't like, Keefe thought. He wasn’t always the best at taking bad news, though he didn’t think he was as bad as Fitzy used to be.

“We’re gonna have to jump back to your house before we can set everything off,” Marella stated.

Keefe balked. “We don’t have time for that!”

She threw up her hands, “Well you went and got yourself hurt and we don’t exactly have another choice.”

“I am fine,” Keefe said, trying to hide the wince that came.

Dex rolled his eyes, “It’s a short pit stop, come on. We’re all done here; a few minutes won’t hurt the schedule.”

Keefe wanted to argue that it would hurt the schedule because the schedule was flawless and nothing mattered more than the schedule. Unfortunately, he knew that neither of them would actually listen to him.

Admittedly, when it was all done, getting Keefe patched up with the cloth they found and cleaning off the blood took a lot less time than he initially thought. They had found Elwin’s stash of pain killer serums and as soon as Keefe took them he ordered them to get moving. “We’ve got places to be and things to set off!”

“Lead the way, dude,” Dex huffed. After the war, Forkle had ended up showing the rest of the Black Swan members where his office was—with a heavy, heavy swear to never show the council where it was. The best part about Forkle retiring: they could use the dusty office as a great spot to see pranks. That was probably not Forkle’s intent but who could really stop them?

Stepping into the weird round office (what had Sophie said it resembled? A hobbit hole? Keefe put that on the list as a first order of business to figure out when they got to the Forbidden Cities), it was like nothing had changed. TV’s still lined the wall, and the desk in the center had scattered papers from who knows how long ago. From his memory, Sophie was the last person here, she had watched right before she left, she spent almost a whole day just watching. In Keefe’s opinion, it was kind of creepy but it was probably something sentimental to her. It had been a year since then and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

They set to work, setting up, connecting cables, dusting (not something Keefe thought this would entail). Their list was made quick work of and soon they were all set up and staring at the screens. People moved like nothing was going to happen, they moved in a trance of things to do and places to be and not a care for the world around them. Keefe remembered a long time ago, Alden saying that elves loved their work, but as he watched people go they didn’t all seem to love it. Their lives were a dull continuous day after day after day with nothing to want and nothing different. Keefe grinned, oh how they would change that. They all held separate controllers, all for different things.

With a nod, Marella started to count down. “Three. Two. One.” She pressed her button and the disks went off. Pink goop (Keefe got the idea from bubble gum, something he had been a tad bit addicted to in his time away) covered everywhere. Luckily, the cameras were high enough that their view wasn’t blocked, because the view from above was amazing. People shouted and left their shops, watching as the mass overtook everywhere. No one was actually in danger, anyone stuck would be just a tad bit uncomfortable but still safe. Dex let out a breathless laugh, “It worked, oh my Ancients it worked!"

Marella let out a whoop and he couldn’t help but be caught in the crashing wave of her joy. But they weren’t done yet; there was still more to do.

They waited in anxious excitement for the panic to die down before they could release Wave 2. Finally, it was time and Keefe pushed his remote to see glitter fill the air and Biana’s infamous quote light the sky. ”' Sparkles make everything better,’“ Keefe said as he watched the shimmering rain. "That they do, that they do.”

Dex giggled as he pushed his button, releasing the KMD. Keefe was fairly proud of his odd combination of their initials, but it worked well. Keefe’s pink faded into Marella’s orange into Dex’s green in a shimmering rain that morphed into “The Outsiders”, as Dex had called them the night before.

Keefe swelled with pride, “Now that is something sixteen-year-old me would be hella proud of.”

Marella nodded, “We did something amazing here today, boys.”

“That we did."

That afternoon, moments before sunset, Dex, Marella, Keefe, Biana, and Elwin stood on the hill behind Elwin’s house. No one knew what to say, no one knew where to start. Honestly, Keefe thought that the only thing keeping Elwin from crying was his silence.

"Really,” Biana spoke startling them all. “You had to use the 'Sparkles make everything better'?”

Marella barked out a laugh. “Hey, we knew it would get your attention,” Dex said.

Biana raised her eyebrow, “Oh, really? Because the giant blob of pink goop in my office and everywhere else wouldn’t?”

“Wellll- it was a fun addition,” Keefe said.

Biana smiled softly, “I’m going to miss you guys.” Keefe couldn’t stop himself anymore and he pulled her into a hug.

“We’ll be back. I promise.”

“You better be, asshole; I can’t fix everything on my own,” Biana whispered into his shoulder.

“And you don’t have to,” Keefe whispered back. If anything, he wanted her to know that before they left. She nodded slowly.

Keefe felt Dex and Marella join the hug, and eventually so did Elwin and it felt so final that Keefe had to remind himself again and again that it wasn’t; that he’d be back.

Finally, they pull away, everyone with teary eyes. “If any one of you gets hurt you are calling me immediately, got it?” Elwin stated, point his finger at them.

Dex snorted, “I don’t think it works like that.”

“I do not care, I am not letting anyone of you get hurt by that place,” Elwin said, almost glaring at them. “Are you kidding? The amount of work I’m going to have to go through, detoxing you after you’re exposed to all those-” he waved his hands excessively, “pollutions!”

“Yes sir,” Keefe said as he mock-soluted him.

“We should probably get going,” Marella elbowed him, checking her watch. “Bi? Watch my mom, will you?”

Biana smiled, “Of course.”

Dex gulped, “And watch the triplets for me? And Elwin, talk to my parents? They’ll be mad I didn’t tell them but I just couldn’t say goodbye to them.”

Elwin and Biana nodded. Keefe raised his leaping crystal, “I love you guys.” The beam opened up and before he could bite his tongue, “I love you, Dad.” He stepped through, not even looking to see Elwin’s response.

Marella and Dex met him on the other side, both giving him quizzical looks. “You really just called him Dad for the first time and then ran away for who knows how long?” Dex asked.

“Yup!”

“I thought that impulsive phase was over,” Marella said.

“I'm sorry what have the past two days been?"

"We don’t talk about that."

Keefe grinned, "Okay Techmaster, lead the way.” And they were off a clean slate, a fresh beginning.

They had rigged up a computer, a shitty web camera, and a stand duct-taped together in the middle of their small Sydney apartment. Dex stood behind, still messing with the settings as Keefe was trying to fix the crappy white sheet they had hung behind them. “I think it’s fine,” Marella chuckled.

“Oh suree tell the guy who actually can speak to the tech how it works,” Dex said, rolling his eyes and pressing a few more buttons. Marella moved her fingers around her temple and mouthed, “Crazy” and Keefe found that he couldn’t stop himself from snorting.

“You know I can see you right.”

“Yup!” Marella and Keefe said in unison, giving in to another round of giggles.

Dex shook his head, “Well, we’re all set up.” For a millisecond Keefe could tell just how nervous Marella was in the way that her eyes darted, trying to make sure everything was holding steady, how her hands silently snapped to some imaginary song. It came off her in waves, though her excitement accompanied it.

“Okay, you guys ready?” Dex asked.

Keefe nodded. “Okay, three,” Dex held up three fingers. Two. One. He pointed at them.

The first round ended prematurely in a fit of giggles. The second with Marella staring blankly, the third with Keefe singing some random song he had heard on the radio because who knew what he was supposed to say? Certainly not him!

It took more tries than Keefe could count and well after the sun went down before they finally had an acceptable intro (they also managed to drag Dex into the actual camera view which was secretly Marella and Keefe’s main goal).

It took only two days to edit on top of the jobs that they had managed to find. Eventually, they were all standing in front of the computer anxiously watching Dex press the upload button.

“You know,” Dex said, “it’s not going to make any difference with you standing right there.”

“We are witnessing history in the making; we cannot miss out on that!” Keefe yelled dramatically, met with an exaggerated eye roll.

It all seemed too simple to be called a beginning, just a click of a button, and they were alive somewhere among the firing code in this vast world.

They were all lounging on the couch when it came. The doorbell rang, and no one moved, except the cat. Dex was too wrapped in his current school project that had to do with writing something that was way above Keefe’s amount of brain cell. Curled on the couch, Marella had her headphones in, editing their newest video that had them trying to paint a posing Dex with their fingers. This ended into chaos which was a surprise to no one. Keefe grinned at the memory as he tried to lure out their new cat that had decide to bolt under the sofa the moment the bell rang. “Come here Marty Jr.,” Keefe cooed.

Marella pulled out one earbud, “Did we really have to name her Marty Jr.?”

“If I recall correctly you didn’t have a better idea at the time,” Keefe retorted.

“I did!” Dex called.

“For the last time, we are not naming her after some weird chemical!”

“Pneumonia is a perfectly reasonable name!”

“Wait,” Marella said, “isn’t that a lung disease?”

“I thought it was some poisonous gas thing?” Keefe said.

Dex groaned, “Why must I be the only intelligent person here?”

“Look is someone going to get the door? It could be pizza,” Marella said. Keefe groaned and gave up trying to get the cat out from under the couch, going to answer the door.

No one was outside on the balcony, no one was in the courtyard except for the neighbor's kids. But there was pizza on the ground, still in the box, and it smelt like heaven. On top of the box was an envelop. “Did either of you order a mysterious pizza and a suspicious-looking envelope?” Keefe called out, carrying the box into the house.

“No?” Dex said, his face twisted in confusion.

“Well, looks like we got a surprise then.”

Marella came up behind him, Marty Jr. sitting comfortably in her arms, “What’s in the envelope?”

“Just a letter,” Keefe said. It was a letter, but when he unfolded it, it held a handwriting he would never mistake. Biana’s. “What the-” Keefe started but Marella snatched the paper out of his hands.

“She wants to meet us,” Marella whispered.

“Where?"

"In some cabin in the US.”

Keefe groaned, “Crap, we don’t have that kinda money without it being sponsored.”

Dex grinned holding up the discarded envelope, “She already thought of that.” He pulled out three plane tickets.

Keefe grinned, “Well, I guess we’re going to America.”

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