#I am taking this Friday off work and I couldn't be more excited

[becca-e-barnes]

Becca the way I ran over here is insane I have to share this with you. Dbf ceo Bucky tying his tie around your throat pulling it back as he rails into from behind on his desk while he calls you his favorite cock warmer.

Wtf that’s so hot 🙃 like a really frantic, filthy, desperate quickie over his desk because you just couldn’t help yourselves and he needs a little relief

Maybe he’s had a long day and it's really taken it out of him. Some days just don't go smoothly for him and you know to expect that but the second you see his face, you know it's been a rough one.

He looks tired. His frown lines seem a little deeper set than usual and his jaw is clenched but apart from that, it'd be hard to tell he's had a long day because he hides it well.

"Everything okay?" You keep your voice soft, encouraging him to relax and you notice his shoulders drop ever so slightly.

"Bad day." He confirms but it's impossible to miss how he seems to focus on the hem of your dress. Your dress stops just above your knees, leaving your legs exposed for him to appreciate and he doesn't say much more before doing exactly that.

As soon as you're settled on his desk, his hands are drifting up that bare skin, starting at your ankles, roaming confidently up the back of your bare legs. You know he needs this. He needs an outlet for all that frustration and a warmth settles in your stomach because even when he wants to be rough with you, he's still awfully considerate.

He kisses the insides of your knees, trailing the tip of his tongue gently up the inside of one of your thighs until he's able to place a chaste kiss to your clothed sex. He gasps softly, marvelling at how slick the thin lace is under his lips, knowing he's hardly even touched you and you're already desperate for him.

"Bend over the desk." He orders and while you follow his instructions, he unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers before freeing his cock. "You're so fuckin' wet." He grunts, rubbing his stiffening length against the drenched fabric of your panties, giving himself a moment to admire your ass.

"You." He begins, loosening his tie before tugging it off, keeping the knot intact. "Are just a hole for me to fuck for the next hour. You got that?"

"Y-yes." You whimper, pressing yourself back on his cock, shame burning in your cheeks when he laughs at how pathetic you are.

"You're a fucking cocksleeve." Oh God, he needs this. Everything in him is screaming at him to bury his dick inside you and he can't ignore his need any longer. "I don't care if you get off on this. I don't give a shit if you cum." You know that's not true but believing this is just a rough, frantic fuck for his pleasure makes it even hotter somehow.

"Use me." You whine, gripping the edge of the desk. He pulls your soaked panties to the side, slipping the loop of the tie over your head, keeping a nice tension in the length of it as he slides slowly into you.

"Christ, you're tight." He grunts, tugging on the tie so the pressure on your neck makes you yelp. The first glide of his length into your body is always pure bliss for you but it's that little bit better when you pretend that he doesn't care.

"Stupid. Little. Cockslut." He offers sharp, shallow thrusts with each word and there's no stopping the way your eyes roll back. His tip nudges the soft, velvety spot inside you with each thrust and you know if he keeps that up, you're going to cum, whether he cares or not.

[captainsophiestark]

A New Man

Colin Bridgerton x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Colin has had feelings for his best friend for some time now, and has decided his new skills in charm and flirting are the perfect way to win her over. He is unfortunately very mistaken.

Word Count: 4,713

Category: Angst, Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"This is by far the best part of these society events," mused Benedict, one of my best friends, as the two of us perused the dessert table. "Sometimes it even makes putting up with all the marauding mamas worth it."

I laughed and picked up a delious looking cupcake.

"The mamas must be truly terrible this season if the food only sometimes makes them worth putting up with."

Benedict sighed. "You have no idea."

I nudged him with my shoulder, smiling as we stepped away from the dessert table together.

"Well, you have no need to worry, Benedict. As long as I am unattached, I am more than happy to act as a shield for you, especially when society dictates you must find a partner and dance."

"Thank you. You are a true friend. I know I can always count on-"

"Colin!" I turned to grin sheepishly at Benedict in the wake of my outburst and found him staring at me with a mocking, raised eyebrow. But I couldn't quite bring myself to care, since I'd just seen my absolute best friend in the world, Colin Bridgerton, standing across the lawn chatting with a group of ladies.

He'd left England this summer for another lengthy international trip, and I'd missed him terribly while he'd been gone. He looked different now, too, a little more sure of himself and wearing a style that had clearly come from somewhere on the continent rather than from here. And if my heart raced a little at the sight of him, well, that could easily be chalked up to excitement at the prospect of seeing a friend. I couldn't keep a smile off my face at the sight of him, even as I turned back to Benedict and found him with crossed arms and doubly raised eyebrows.

"When were you going to tell me that Colin had returned?" I demanded, completely ignoring Benedict's judgey look and barely managing to keep my voice at a socially acceptable level. Benedict just sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It is why I came over here in the first place, but then you distracted me with talks of friendship and cupcakes. And now I see it was all a lie, as you are clearly about to abandon me to the whims of this social event to go rush over and talk to my brother."

"Sorry, Benedict," I said, giving him a grin. "But I saw you throughout the summer. It has been much too long since I last saw Colin, so he takes precedence for the day. But I promise you I will come to your aid if you find yourself cornered by the mamas, or any other dangerous creature roaming the society grounds."

Benedict snorted, but I didn't give him the opportunity for a comeback as I turned back to Colin and walked quickly across the gravel paths, the smile growing on my face the closer I got to him. He didn't notice me as I approached, wrapped up in conversation with the handful of ladies in front of him, and my smile grew even more at the thought of his face when he finally caugh sight of me.

"...will be fighting over you," I heard Colin saying as I walked up to join the group. "I cannot compete."

All the ladies in the circle giggled, giving me perfect cover for my smile as I came to a stop in front of Colin. He turned to face me, a beaming smile on his face, then froze a bit as his eyebrows shot up when he realized who I was.

"Lady Y/L/N!" he said, the shock melting back into his charming smile. "What a pleasure it is to have you join us."

"Mister Bridgerton, what a pleasure it is to have you back in England with us."

Colin dipped his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a roguish smile before he returned his gaze to me.

"Believe me, Lady Y/L/N, the pleasure here is all mine."

Rather than the earnest excitement I'd been expecting, Colin's demeanor and voice dripped with a slick charm I didn't recognize. I'd been expecting his usual earnest, genuine emotion, not... this. I gave Colin a little frown of confusion, but quickly let my expression return to normal as he returned to addressing our entire group. He had an energy about him that I couldn't quite place, but it was much different than the Colin I'd gotten to know so well before he left. Still, we were in public. Neither of us were allowed to be anywhere near as effusive and close as we would've been in a more private setting.

"We were just discussing the season," Colin said, including me seamlessly in the conversation I'd joined between him and the other ladies. "Truly, it is amazing to me that all of your dance cards are not already full of suitors."

All the ladies around me giggled, hiding behind their fans and fluttering their eyelashes at Colin. I just stared at him, letting my brow furrow again as I watched my friend. He met my eyes, a smooth smile on his face and his eyes roaming me with an interest and flirtation they'd never had before. If Colin had looked at me like that when I'd last seen him, my heart would've started doing backflips. But his new demeanor made the gesture seem much less sincere, and much more shallow. I let my frown deepen.

"So..." I started, trying to clear the air of whatever strange energy seemed to be lurking here. "Mister Bridgerton, tell us of your travels. You sent so few letters this time, I have simply been dying to hear about everything you saw and did."

Colin flashed me a brilliant smile that didn't totally reach his eyes.

"This time, my stories from abroad are not suitable for such tender young ladies." Everyone around us giggled into their fans again, but Colin's eyes never left mine. "Were I to tell you even the tiniest adventure, well... I'd be forced to marry you."

He delivered the final few words with dramatic flourish, as if expecting for them to have some groundshaking impact. And with the way he stared at me with a simmering gaze, the words clearly intended to make every lady in earshoot swoon, he accomplished his goal. I couldn't hold back a snort of laughter, which I quickly hid as a cough behind my fan.

Colin looked shocked when I glanced up at him, but I still couldn't keep another laugh from bubbling up. He was being so ridiculous, so arrogant and flirting with everyone in sight like he was God's gift to the women of England, and I truly couldn't take him seriously this way.

I cleared my throat and straightened back up, keeping it together just enough as I faced Colin and the other ladies, giving each of them a shallow curtsey.

"Forgive me. I think... something in the air, it must have gotten to me. Excuse me, please."

With that, I turned on my heel and didn't look back. I walked quickly across the garden, seeking out and immediately finding Benedict among the crowd once again, hovering by some shrubbery in an attempt to hide from the ladies and their mothers. I sped up to reach him, the giggling smile returning to my face as I approached.

Benedict must've heard me coming, because at the sound of laughter in a semi-high pitched register he turned on his heel and started moving in the other direction without looking to see the origin of the sound. I walked faster, until I was close enough to call out to him without drawing undue attention.

"Relax, Benedict, it's just me!"

His shoulders slumped as he stopped and turned to face me, relief written in every line of his face. After a moment, however, his expression changed to one of confusion.

"What are you doing back here so soon?" he asked. "I thought you would spend at least the next hour with Colin, catching up on all his travels and making every eligible lady here incredibly jealous of the two of you."

"Well, I planned to catch up with him, but... Benedict, you will never believe what he said." Benedict raised an eyebrow, so I glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then took a step forward and lowered my voice all the same. Laughing about Colin with his brother was one thing, but I didn't want anyone in the rest of the Ton talking behind his back. "He said he couldn't possibly tell me his stories from abroad, because they weren't 'suitable for tender young ladies'."

Benedict scoffed. "Truly?"

"Truly! Benedict, he's come back from abroad strutting around like some peacock, as though he is God's gift to eligible young women everywhere. You know I love him, as you do, but... I cannot take him seriously with his new attitude. I do not think I could if I tried."

Benedict smiled and shook his head, staring over my shoulder, presumably at Colin. Then he turned back to me.

"Did he seem to be directing his newfound charm at anyone in particular?"

I frowned. "No, not that I noticed. It seemed to be more like buckshot, just aiming with broad strokes at everyone in range. Why? Are you joining the side of the mamas in trying to help your brother find a match?"

"No," Benedict sighed, sounding truly tired. "Simply trying to guague exactly how long I may have left before I am the only eligible Bridgerton son for the mamas to focus on."

I laughed. "Do not worry, Benedict. I think you have some time yet."

Benedict didn't respond, but I thought I heard him mumble something into his drink that sounded like, "we'll see". When I raised an eyebrow at him and prepared a question, however, he quickly changed the subject, and I let him. We spent most of the rest of the afternoon together, hiding out from societal obligations and occasionally laughing about how strange his siblings could be sometimes.

After the garden party, I didn't get much of a chance to speak with Colin again until Lady Danbury's ball. He'd approached me once or twice when we'd seen each other in passing at other events, but we'd always been interrupted by other ladies, and Colin seemed suddenly incapable of interacting with me without his base layer of extreme, over the top charm. I would've felt bad for how little time I'd spent with him since he'd returned home, but every time I'd tried to ask him about his travels or how he was doing, he turned it into a truly ridiculous line of flirting, the likes of which we used to make fun of other suitors for before his most recent summer travels.

As a result, when Lady Danbury's ball rolled around, I didn't seek Colin out the way I would've last season. Instead, I found Eloise, Benedict, and even Francesca for a while when she clearly needed a break from her first season out in society. I danced with a few of the men who were tolerable, and otherwise enjoyed my time at the refreshments table and talking to people I knew. Colin didn't seek me out for the first half of the ball, either, so when I heard a familiar voice trying to get my attention after I'd found a spot along the wall for a bit of a break from the rest of the party, it was more of a surprise than it should've been.

"Y/N."

I turned around with a smile to find Colin standing behind me, a grin on his own face. We were out of earshot of the rest of the party, so we could dispense with some of the titles and formality that had lost all meaning between us long ago.

"Colin, hello! I was beginning to think I might not see you at all during this ball, such your other engagements seemed to be."

"Well, I could never let my other engagements prevent me from conversing with the most beautiful woman at this ball, could I?"

He said it with an easy smile and a charming sincerity, but I'd seen him use the same attitude and similar words on enough other ladies in our few interactions this season that his words didn't work to sway me the way they seemed to sway others. My smile slipped, and I fought to hold back a sigh.

"Yes, well..."

Colin smiled at me for another moment, and when I didn't pick up the conversation, he gave an easy chuckle and fixed me with another roguish grin.

"As delighted as I am for any opportunity to spend time with you, my lady, I did come over here to ask you if you might do me the honor of a dance. I truly cannot think of a partner I would rather have than you."

I fought a grimace, barely managing to turn it into a polite smile. I looked around briefly to make sure we were still out of earshot of any other party-goers or servants, which we were. I turned back to Colin with a sigh.

"Colin... I am going to tell you this because I truly care about you, although that may not seem to be my motivation at first glance."

"...Alright," said Colin, blinking a few times and trying to hide any confusion with another easy smile. I took a deep breath.

"I do not wish to dance with you." The smile dropped off Colin's face and his eyebrows knit together as I continued. "I never thought I would say such a thing, as quite often dancing and laughing with you were the only things that made attending society events bearable. But ever since you've returned home from your trip, Colin... it has been nearly impossible to talk to you.

"The man I thought I knew, my friend, whom I deeply cared about and whom I could talk to about anything, seems to have gone. And in his place I have found a Colin Bridgerton who not only flirts with anything that moves, but who does so in a way that is incredibly condescending and impossible to have a meaningful conversation with. Your letters from your previous travels were wonderful, Colin, and when you returned we were able to discuss them at length. You know I have an interest in learning and the world at large, and yet now, whenever I bring the subject up, I am told I could not possibly handle hearing about the things you saw and did, since I am but a fragile woman. Your sincerety and genuine expression of yourself has become cloaked in an oily layer of false sentiment and charm, directed equally at everyone you speak to, no matter your relation to them or your true feelings. I have no idea what brought about this change in you, Colin, but I am sorry to say I do not enjoy it the way the rest of the ladies here seem to."

Colin just stared at me, blinking and gaping like a fish. I frowned, feeling a big guilty, but lying to him would serve no purpose for either of us. Still, he was my friend, and I did care about him regardless of his recent changes. Choosing to ignore society for a brief moment, I put my hand out and rested it gently on his arm.

"Do not mistake my words as an insult designed to hurt you, Colin. You are my friend, and always will be. I have simply... found it harder to be around the person you have become recently. I am truly happy for you and your newfound confidence, but it seems to have extended a bit beyond confidence and into something more challenging, especially with ladies. Even ones you've known as long as you've known me."

I gave him a tight smile, which he seemed too stunned to return. I gave him a moment, but when he still didn't seem capable of a response, I curtsied and took a few steps backwards.

"Well. I will... take my leave. I do hope you enjoy the rest of the ball."

Colin just watched me as I took another few steps backwards. Finally, I turned on my heel and walked away. I wasn't sure how I'd been expecting him to take my statement, but complete speechlessness certainly hadn't been my prediction. I could only hope I hadn't wounded him too badly, and that he might come around enough to be the man I remembered as my friend and confidant, who could discuss the world with me as an equal and laugh with me through anything.

Thankfully, no one at the ball seemed to have noticed our exchange. Colin kept his distance from me for the rest of the evening, although I did notive him staring in my direction once or twice.

I debated finding Benedict to ask him his opinion about what I'd said to Colin, and how Colin might be feeling, but eventually decided against it. No matter how true my words had been, or how I'd tried to keep them from sounding harsh or designed to hurt, Colin would likely need his space for a time while he processed. And sending his brother in as my proxy would be the opposite of giving Colin space.

I expected Colin to keep his distance from me for a few days at least, if not for much, much longer. But as I took my seat in the sitting room of my family home the next morning for the start of the calling hours, I turned out to be quite incorrect. Before the clock had finished chiming to mark the start of the first hour, none other than Colin Bridgerton came striding through the door, ahead of the butler who normally would have announced him.

"Lady Y/N," he said, bowing to me and then to my mother sitting on the couch next to me. "I have come to call on you, if you are willing to entertain my company."

He still walked and spoke with confidence, but the layer of charm that had honeyed his words since the first day he'd returned for the season was gone, replaced by a directness and frankness that felt like taking a breath of fresh air. I gave him a small smile.

"I would be more than happy to have your company, Mister Bridgerton."

Colin gave me a small smile in return, and the two of us moved to the other end of the room, still able to be chaperoned but out of immediate earshot. I settled into the couch, Colin sitting right beside me.

"Y/N... thank you for being willing to speak to me. I had to see you, to apologize... and to explain."

My eyebrows shot up. Now that we were sitting closer together, I noticed a few irregularities in Colin's appearance. He had a few shadows under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept well, and his hair wasn't as neatly quaffed as I was used to seeing it. His shirt was rumpled in a few places a maid or a butler or a hovering older sibling might've insisted on fixing if they could've, and although Colin's new confidence appeared to be mostly intact, the charm had been replaced with a nervous energy I'd hardly ever seen from him.

"Colin... are you quite alright?" I asked, leaning a bit closer to him as I studied his face. When I looked up to meet his eyes, I found them instead scanning my face, until he apparenlty snapped out of it and met my gaze. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Yes. Well, no. Perhaps. I am not sure, I think my wellbeing may depend a bit on the outcome of this conversation."

"Colin, before you begin, if I was too harsh on you the other night then I must apologize-"

"No! No. You were not." He took another fortifying breath, closing his eyes for a moment and dropping his shoulders from where they'd been creeping closer to his ears, before meeting my eyes again. "I have been quite different since I came home. I found myself while I was away from society, in a way I have never felt able to do here. But... I also learned the kind of charm that most of the Ton enjoys. It worked so well from the moment I got back, I did not think much of it. But I should have. And I am sorry if our relationship suffered as a result of my attitude."

Colin paused to take a deep breath, and I took the opening to reach out and rest my hand on his forearm.

"Colin, you do not-"

"Y/N, please. Please allow me to get all the way through this. I need to say it all, and I may not be able to get it out if I have an opportunity to change the subject."

I leaned back a little to stare at Colin, though I didn't remove my hand. His eyebrows were knit together with worry and his eyes never left my face. Slolwy, I nodded. Colin let out a sigh.

"Thank you." He squared his shoulders and sat up straighter, resting his hand on top of my own. "I understand why my approach was... not appreciated when we spoke in the garden and at Lady Danbury's ball. But the sentiment behind what I was saying was genuine. I have been searching for the way to tell you this for years, and I thought the charm and flirtation I learned abroad would be the way to finally do it. Clearly I was wrong. You should have seen the face Benedict made when I talked to him last night..."

Colin trailed off, shaking his head and apparently lost in thought. After a moment, I took a breath to say something else, but the noise must've been enough to jar Colin out of his memories. His stare snapped back to me, eyes slightly wider than usual.

"I love you. I have been in love with you for years, and when I returned home from this trip, I decided to finally do something about it. I thought the charm that worked so well on everyone else would work just as well for you, but... clearly I was mistaken."

I huffed a laugh. That was certainly an understatement.

"I wanted everything to be perfect, to come home changed and sweep you off your feet, but I've already failed at that, and I cannot keep my feelings to myself a moment longer. I love you, and I want to share everything with you. You are my best friend, my confidant, and the only woman I could possibly imagine spending the rest of my life with. Is there even the slightest chance you may feel the same way?"

Colin looked at me with the most open, vulnerable expression I'd ever seen, from anyone. My heart raced in my chest, and all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him and never let go. But I forced myself to take a moment, rather than letting my emotions run wild.

"I need you to answer two questions for me, Colin," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and level. Unfortunately, I didn't totally succeed. Colin nodded quickly.

"Anything."

"First... how were your travels? Where was your favorite place to visit?"

Colin huffed a laugh, relaxing and leaning into me slightly as a faint smile pulled onto his face. My heart raced, but I forced myself to keep a neutral expression.

"I apologize for even making this test necessary, but my travels were... incredible. I may ask you not to share details with the rest of the Ton, but anything you ask, I will be happy to share with you. And my favorite place was Paris. I could not stop thinking about the two of us returning someday to visit together. It is a truly romantic city."

Colin's words removed any hope I had at keeping a smile off my face. I leaned into it, grinning at him and squeezing his hand a little as my heart began to race.

"Well then, I look forward to hearing all about them."

"And I look forward to telling you. Your second question?"

"...Did you truly go to Benedict for help with this last night?"

Colin groaned and threw his head back, which made me laugh. He shook his head as he met my eyes again, but he was smiling all the same.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I know you are close with him, and I noticed you going to speak to him after you abruptly left our conversation at the garden party. I thought he might have some insight, and I was right. It just came at the cost of quite a bit of mocking."

"You truly must be serious to give Benedict such ammunition to use against you for the rest of your lives."

"I am incredibly serious. And I would brave the teasing of every one of my siblings if, at the end, it brought me to you."

"Colin, that may be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Does that mean... you return my affections?"

I smiled. "Yes, Colin. It does. You are my best friend, and I cannot think of anyone I would rather spend my time with than you."

Colin absolutely beamed at me. He began to lean forward, then thought better of himself even as his eyes still strayed to my lips.

"I cannot begin to tell you how desperately I wish we were alone in this moment," he said, voice low and husky. My heart did a backflip as I felt myself flush.

"Hopefully we will not have to wait long," I replied. We stayed there together, the tension and heat growing between us, until my mother cleared her throat from across the room and we were both brought back to reality. We leaned slightly further apart, although we didn't let go of each others' hands, and shared a grin.

"So... does that mean you will marry me?"

I laughed. "Colin, you cannot be serious! You began courting me a handful of minutes ago!"

I met Colin's eyes, expecting to share the joke, but instead I found him staring at me with a burning sincerity to go with his words.

"I am happy to wait as long as you need me to," he said, voice lowered slightly. "But I would also happily announce our engagement today."

I smiled and shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest so hard I thought Colin might actually be able to hear it.

"I may ask you to wait at least long enough for us to spend an evening or two together while courting, to see what it may be like to have a different relationship, rather than to spend time together as friends. But... I do not predict you will need to wait long."

The grin that spread across Colin's face was blinding, rivaling the happiest looks I'd ever seen from anyone in my life.

"That is good to hear. There are quite a few things I can hardly wait for, all of which come with engagement and marriage."

"Hm. Thank goodness we are both of positions and family that allow us to disappear for months on a honeymoon, finally sharing some travels around the world together. Among other things."

Colin squeezed my hand, and I could see him fighting back a handful of inappropriate responses and actions. I just grinned back at him, the two of us settling into our usual ease on the couch togehter after a moment so I could finally get Colin to tell me about the things he'd done on his travels. Hopefully, no one else would show up during the calling hours, and Colin and I could spend every moment of the day together just like this.

I'd meant what I'd said about wanting to wait, at least a short while, before announcing an engagement, and I did think it was a good idea. But I also couldn't imagine anything coming between Colin and I again after this. My best friend was back, and we were in love. What more could I possibly ask for in a match than that? Even if Benedict would be insufferable, claiming to be the one who'd set us up. It would be worth it, especially because we would weather the storm of his siblings together. Just like we'd do everything else that came for the rest of our lives.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

[dreamgirlsclipscom]

Laura’s Sweaty Feet Challenge - (Full HD 1080p Version)    

Laura is a very pretty little 18 year old dreamgirl, and I must say that the first time I saw her really impressed me! I didn't think she could be so dominant, but she really had fun making fun of me! She told me that she really enjoyed treating me like a good little submissive slave, and that she would really like to do that again soon! She also told me that it really turned her on to see me sniffing and licking her feet, after she had worn the same socks for so long! She asked me if it was possible to do it again, and told me that this time, she would wear her socks even longer before seeing me, in order to humiliate me even more! I have to say that it scared me a little, because her feet stank so much the first time I saw her! This time, she had worn the same white socks for over ten days, and challenged me to let her watch a two-hour movie on Netflix, but with her stinky feet directly in my face. I really didn't want to disappoint her, so I told her that I would happily accept this challenge! The most difficult thing will certainly be to have an erection for more than two hours like that, which she will feel sliding between her pretty little thighs, but I am sure that she will appreciate feeling the effect and all the power that her pretty feet have on me! She controls me to the highest degree!

Laura arrived at my home on a Friday evening, after spending the whole day walking and working in her warm boots, and the first thing she said to me when she arrived was that she couldn't wait to take them off! She was very impatient to finally be able to relax after her long day of work, and to watch her movie, so we immediately positioned ourselves on the couch, so that she would be comfortable after her long walk in her boots. Laura reminded me again the length of the movie she was planning to watch, before asking me to take off her boots, and cover my face with her two feet in stinky white socks! Her white socks were super warm, very sweaty, and the smell was quite intense too! I could really feel that she had worn them to the fullest! Laura made me take some deep breaths in her dirty socks, and the smell of her socks made me so hard! My member was very hard, sliding gently between her thighs, and I'm sure she felt it immediately! She made me smell her dirty socks, and also asked me to lick them clean! At one point, my cock was so hard, that Laura slowly lowered her foot, placed her foot on my very hard cock, and started masturbating me through my pants! I felt her so in control, and I felt so helpless! She has total control over me, and she really seems to like it!

Laura was getting a little hot feet after watching more than half of her movie, so she asked me to take her dirty socks off with my teeth, and pushed them into her mouth with her toes. She then covered my face again with her two stinky feet, so I now had to sniff her feet, on top of having to clean her two dirty socks in my mouth! Laura made me take deep breaths once again in her two warm feet, before asking me to lick her feet! It was so humiliating, because I was so hard! She excited me to no end! Laura also took pleasure in making me suck her little toes, one by one, and she again slid her foot very gently towards my very hard penis! She started masturbating me with her pretty bare feet, through my pants, and she seemed to really enjoy the effect her pretty feet had on me! My dick was so hard, it was hard to hide that her feet were turning me on in that position! It was another wonderful stinky feet session, with this cute little Princess Laura! The full version of this stinky feet session is 57 minutes in total, and you know exactly where to find it! I hope you will enjoy this wonderful video as much as I do! I really love this little Princess Laura!

[devilfic]

❝small favor❞

V. the christmas special.

parts: previously / next plot: it's the most beautiful time of the year. pairing: mcu!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: christmas shenanigans, alcohol mentions, harry gets drunk for norman osborn related reasons, peter is a little ball of anxiety because he likes you, can I share with you what jobs I think ned and mj got after graduation. words: 8.4k.

a/n: this was gonna be a two-parter but I thought. no. so instead it's just super long :D

Peter has started visiting more.

There were the surprise visits on weekends. Something was just too important to wait a week, and too important to give you a call, and you liked that he made a note of bringing you food for the trouble. Then he was popping in on Wednesday nights—sometimes Friday mornings—because he'd forgotten to tell you this or he just couldn't wait to tell you that.

And he has texting you more, too. Not super serious things either, and after a few days of it, you had worked the fight or flight reaction to his ringtone out of your system. At some point, you had started feeling like this was becoming... a genuine friendship.

"I mean... I... yeah. We talked about it, didn't we?" Peter stops pouring, brownie batter dribbling off the lip of the bowl, "Friends. I- I think of you as a friend. If you think of me... as a friend."

You gnaw on your pen as you study him. It's another weekend surprise visit, and this time he's brought you boxed brookie batter as an olive branch. You'd actually been busy this time, and so you'd put him to work baking it while you made your vacation list, "It's just... crazy. I mean, we went from being strangers to only seeing each other once a week—purely professionally—and now you bake me things. And we hang out."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing! It's just weird," he continues to pour as you talk, "I used to see you as this unattainable hero. I couldn't believe you trusted me, felt comfortable enough to tell me your name, to care enough that even EDITH knows who I am. And now we're friends."

Peter's nose scrunches at that, and you've never wished more than now that you could see the rest of his face. He starts placing balls of cookie dough in the batter, "You talk about me like I'm Beyoncé or something."

"You're the Beyoncé of superheroes."

"Hey, that is not true. That title goes to Captain Marvel."

"Not to me."

"Well, of course not to you. You're my biggest fan."

"Wow, demoted to a fan already."

Peter slides the pan into the oven, "You know what I mean. You're biased."

"You're starting to sound like Jameson now."

He kicks the oven door closed and hops up onto the kitchen counter next to you, nudging your knee with his knee, "Oh, you haven't heard my Jameson impression. Watch this." Peter clears his throat, clenches his fist, and shakes it in the air, "Spider-Man is a menace and should be charged with domestic terrorism!"

You giggle, "Do more."

"5G isn't giving your kids cancer, it's Spider-Man leaving his webs all over the city!"

"More!"

"Spider-Man is laying eggs in our city's sewers so that one day, all his freaky spider children will rise up and take over New York!"

"Please, keep going."

Peter groans. You see his head tilt toward the notepad in your lap, "How's the vacation going? Or vacation planning, I guess."

You sigh. Your list to pack kept getting longer, and yet, anytime you tried to focus on what to bring, you would just remember something else you needed to do before leaving New York. "How do you think, based on my utter lack of excitement?"

Peter raises a brow, "Whaaat? You're not excited for Miami?"

"I was, but... everything in the world is happening at the same time. Jameson wants me to get two more articles out before I leave and my family wanted me in Florida three days ago. At this rate, I'm just barely going to make it there before Christmas. Not to mention..." You trail off as you look to Peter, whose mask eyes have gone comically wide in interest, "I don't want to leave you all alone."

"You know I've been Spider-Manning since I was like, 14, right?"

"Well, yeah, but- wait, 14?" Peter grimaces. You gloss over it before he can worry himself about it, "Anyway, I just worry. I mean, with Fisk turning the PR tide and God knows what he's planning, I don't wanna just fly to the other side of the country. It feels wrong."

Peter smirks, "Nah, nah. It's fine. I can take care of myself."

"Don't make me remind you about how all of this," you gesture between Peter and the oven, "started." He looks away from you, sheepish. "You know what I mean, right? Maybe I'm overestimating my worth to you, but-"

"You're definitely not. You have no idea how much you mean to me." That stuns you. It stuns both of you, clearly, if Peter's frantic peek at your face was anything to go by. His mouth gapes like a fish out of water for a moment, "I just mean that... you've made being Spidey... easier on me. It's nice knowing someone's actually on my side in this city. So yeah, it will feel really weird without you being just a swing away."

"You can still call, Peter. I won't mind."

"And when your family asks who's bothering you while you're sunbathing on the beach?"

"I mean, my little cousins will be impressed if I name drop Spider-Man."

He smiles. He kicks his feet out, heels bumping the cabinet doors beneath you while silence settles. You take this chance to examine a slight fraying on the fabric of his suit, a hole beginning to form on his upper thigh that you could just fit your pinky through. You remembered a time when his suit was made out of sweatpants and a dream.

He was 14 when he first started all of this. When you were 14, you were stressing over high school essays and alien invasions. You couldn't help but think that maybe he'd lost his youth to this thing. This thing that brought you together.

Spider-Man who, back then, was really a kid. He'd had to grow into it. You couldn't imagine having to grow into that. "Well, that's enough about my holiday plans. What about you?" Peter prepares to answer, then deflates. "What's up?"

He bites his bottom lip, "I don't... have any."

Your heart sinks, "What? Why not?"

"No, no, it's fine. I'll probably be out on patrol making sure everybody else is having a safe, criminal-free winter break."

Sliding off the counter, you come to stand in front of Peter with your arms folded, "Absolutely not."

"Okay, before you say anything-"

"It's Christmas, Peter! You're supposed to take time off! Be with friends and family. If you never take a break, you'll wear yourself out."

"Just hear me out-"

"No! I won't have it. You're not the only hero in New York. You're taking Christmas off. I don't care if I have to stuff you in a carry-on and take you with me but you will not be working-"

One hand clamps around the back of your head and the other silences you, turning your complaints into mush, "If you would let me finish..." you huff indignantly against his hand, "you'd know that a friend of mine is throwing a Christmas party and I was invited. There. I have plans."

Your face softens. "Really?" You ask, but the sound is muffled and it comes out more like, "Will-ee?"

Peter laughs, hand slipping from your mouth, "Really. I'll at least take a few hours off. Maybe more if I fall into a food coma."

Peter's other hand is still cradling your head, but you don't bring it to his attention. "You promise? I won't have to fly back early and check up on you, will I? 'Cause I'll do it."

"I wouldn't stop you." You glower, making Peter's mask eyes squint with amusement, "I promise."

"Sometimes I think you like making me worry over you."

"Would you believe me if I said that I'm just this awful all the time?"

"Yes, but that would make me worry even more."

The hand at your neck gently curls around the side of your throat, Peter's thumb angling your chin up to his own. The brush of it makes you tremble just slightly.

Was he trying to make you dissolve into a puddle?

"I'll be okay. Just... come back to the city, will ya? Don't fall in love with Miami."

You place one of your hands over the hand on your throat. The other hovers somewhere near his knee on the countertop, unsure of yourself. When you admire his exposed mouth, you think of Peter. Parker.

You remember you hadn't actually talked about that since it happened. It was Peter's intention to skirt around Parker, regardless of how certain you were that they were the same person. It was all in jest, sure, but some small part of you (some incredibly small, minuscule, microscopic part of you) wondered if your reporter brain just fit the two pieces together because it wanted them to fit.

Perhaps he wasn't Peter Parker. Perhaps this really was all a coincidence, and perhaps aliens didn't fall from the sky and gods didn't save the world.

You wouldn't push him on it. You wouldn't look into it either, because reporter brain be damned. You cared more about the Peter you knew than the Peter you didn't.

You smile up at him, "How could I? Miami doesn't have you."

"Nice to see you could finally make it, kiddo." Jillian is grinning at you when you arrive, her baby tucked at her hip and her wife entertaining the little monster over her shoulder. She sees the winded look on your face and immediately motions you over, pressing a hand to your cheek, "Did you crawl out of a snowdrift? You're freezing!"

You lean into it, chasing the warmth in hopes that it would restore some feeling to your skin, "The storm's getting awful out there."

"Came outta nowhere, didn't it?" Jillian's wife snorts, booping the baby's nose. "We almost didn't risk coming with the little one, it was so bad."

Said little one looks perfectly warm wrapped up in her blanket, an envious sight as you shiver and shuck off your coat to hang. You would offer the kid a boop on the nose yourself, but with your fingers frozen solid around your offering—a plate of sugar cookies—you don't want to make her cry. You give her a smile instead.

"Oh, and would you believe it?" Jillian whispers, sidling up to you, primed for gossip, "We've got a real treat here tonight. Take a wild guess who decided to show up."

"Jonah's wife?"

Jillian cackles, "God no. The stalker."

As soon as she says the name, your eyes zero in on him.

He's wearing that plaid shirt again, but the collar and cuffs are all that peek out from underneath a wrinkly blue sweater. His hair is free and gelled back, revealing his nervous expression more clearly. Nursing a cup of apple cider, he just barely looks like he wants to be here. But then he catches your eye across the room.

And he waves.

"Oh my," Jillian teases, "you must've left quite the impression if he came all this way just to see you."

"He did not come just to see me." You reply in a hushed tone, but she laughs at you all the same.

"Sure. And that's not him heading over right now, even though he's been hugging the wall all night."

You jerk your head to where Parker was standing, and, sure enough, he's pursuing you.

You part from Jillian before she can get the chance to embarrass you (she accepts your cookies as payment), and so you all but jog to meet him halfway.

He doesn't get the chance to be polite before you're interrogating him, "Where did you go?"

"Uh... What?"

"At the gala. When I ran back inside the ballroom, I couldn't find you anywhere."

Peter's eyes slowly widen, "You went back inside?"

"Answer the question, please."

"Wh- I... I was there. You didn't see me?"

"No, I didn't."

"It got crazy after Fisk rushed the stage. I got swept up in the crowd. You must've missed me."

"Really? 'Cause I was with the crowd, you know. In front of the building? Where Fisk was giving his big speech about how he saved the day? I didn't see you anywhere."

Peter blinks, then gasps as if he'd just remembered something important, "You know what? That's right. I went to go find Harry. I wanted to make sure he was alright, and then I couldn't find you in the crowd so I just assumed... I'm sorry for leaving you back there all alone." You watch as he fumbles for something convincing, "I texted Spider-Man about it, though. He said you were safe."

You fold your arms, "...Is that all he said about me?"

"Well, that. And something about your conspiracy theory?"

"Conspiracy theory."

The topic change gets some of the tension in Peter's shoulders melting away, replaced with a smile faint enough to not pass as overtly smug. He waits for one of your co-workers to move out of earshot before continuing, "You think... I'm Spider-Man."

Your jaw tightens. You know that anyone would draw the same conclusions you did after that night. You also know that no matter how logical your reasoning is, you sound highly illogical when you admit to it out loud. If you brought up the same accusation to Jillian or Jameson, they'd both laugh you out of the office.

You have to stand your ground, though. If there was one thing you were learning about Peter, it was that he was easy to fluster, "And if I do?"

"I'm flattered, really, but I don't really have the hand-eye coordination."

You know it's bullshit. He should know you know it's bullshit. If it hadn't been for his quick thinking, you and Harry would've been trampled under the masses at the gala. It's bullshit and he's waiting for his checkmate that will never come.

You do not give it a second thought. You toss your phone at Peter's head.

And he catches it. Of course he does. He stops it mere inches from his face.

If anyone saw you try to give him a concussion, they don't come over to question you on it. "Can you..." Peter starts after a breath, a bit dazed, "...can you stop trying to hit me?"

You go to defend yourself because, at the very least, you hadn't meant to try to punch Peter—which meant it didn't count—when someone barrels right into you.

And, to prove you right twice in a row, Peter is quick to catch you. He scoops you up into his arms before you end up a reporter pancake on the floor. One of your co-workers, already blitzed off spiked eggnog, had bumped you on their way to the drinks table for what looked like the umpteenth time tonight, and didn't have enough marbles to apologize before bumping someone else.

Peter is careful in how he holds you. There's that unmistakable strength behind his grip, but also... he was gentle. He felt safe.

You don't make to escape just yet, all your bravado knocked right out of you. "Jesus, you okay?" His eyes dart over to your co-worker and a scowl turns his expression sour, "Jonah should put a cap on the drinks."

You feel more than embarrassed stumbling to your feet, even more so when Peter still coddles you after you're standing upright. "I'm fine. Thanks." Peter's looking at you, brows drawn together, with so much concern it makes that second thought from earlier come in hot with a sizable topping of shame, "Talk about instant karma."

Then it's gone. Peter laughs and... it sounds just like your Peter. Undeniably. You can't help but give in. For a fleeting moment, the question of secret identities has melted away and it's just the two of you, giggling about something silly.

You're ashamed enough to apologize for throwing your phone at his head when the laughter dies down. You succeed in stealing it back and lead him over to the windows, far away from any more drunken disasters, "It's alright. I've had worse thrown at me before."

You raise an eyebrow, "Oh? Like what?"

His voice catches in his throat at first, "A... carton of expired milk. High school bully, Flash Thompson. We were both on the same academic decathlon team but he never gave up on his dream of professional baseball."

"Flash Thompson? You mean, Silicon Valley, MIT grad, tech startup millionaire Flash Thompson?"

Peter winces, "The one and only."

You frown at the distant look on Peter's face, aware of some regret there at the mention of Flash. "You and Harry went to ESU together, right? Is that where you always wanted to go?"

Peter shakes his head, but a smile comes to his face regardless, "MIT was my first choice, actually. But... even with a scholarship, I just couldn't imagine leaving New York behind. So I stayed. Went to ESU. Helped my Aunt May with the mortgage on her first house since my... my uncle passed. And now I'm selling pictures of Spider-Man to pay my rent."

You can't help the way you soften. "I'm so sorry about your uncle, Peter. Your Aunt May is lucky to have you around."

His eyelids flutter closed for a breath, and his smile grows wider. If it were even possible. "I'm lucky to have her."

You stand there together in silence after that, but it feels more comfortable than before. All the scrutiny and speculation you'd come in with had faded away, and now you were left wondering more about Peter. His hopes, his dreams, his life before all of this. What would it have been like if he'd gone to MIT? Where would you be? Or Spider-Man?

Peter's eyes peel open, "So, what about you?"

"Oh. Well, I took a shine to my school newspaper. After... everything in 2012, I knew the world would never be the same. So I had dreams of becoming a journalist, covering the street, being the first on the scene. Took my ass to college on part-time jobs and a dream, and interned at nearly every newspaper in the city before Jameson gave me a shot here. As much as I can't stand the way he talks about Spidey... he's not that bad of a guy. All things considered."

Peter agrees, "He did hire you, so..."

"Yeah, well," you lean your cheek against the window, glass cooling your blush, "At least Spidey doesn't hold it against me... but, I have to ask: why the Bugle? I mean, with photos like yours, you should be fighting off every publication in the city. Instead you turn in these... absolute masterpieces, freelancing, for a guy who can't even give you due credit, and you only stop by for a paycheck."

Peter looks to the window, the wind howling over a crooner's cover of Santa Baby. The storm was still raging on outside, and you dreaded the thought of having to walk through it to get back home. The taxis wouldn't have much luck either from the looks of it. "I... like my job, but it's not what I wanna do forever. I don't care about fame or Pulitzer prizes. It's always been about taking care of me and my Aunt May, and Jameson is a lot of things but he's always understood that. He pays me enough that I can have a place of my own and a little leftover for my aunt, and he doesn't ask questions.

"I don't need to be seen. And that's the whole point, isn't it?" His expression gradually warms as he recalls something, "It's not who's behind the lens that matters, but who's in front of it."

Your expression warms too, "I can see why Spidey likes you."

A notification disturbs the moment. Raising a finger at Peter, you check the latest notification... and your stomach drops.

Peter takes a step forward, sensing the change in atmosphere, "What? What is it?"

"My flight's been cancelled. I was leaving tomorrow for Miami but the storm..."

"Oh. Man, I'm sorry."

"I should've left sooner, I should've left when my family..." You lose the motivation to even finish your sentence, feeling exhausted all at once, "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm stuck here for Christmas."

Peter stuffs his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet as he searches for something to say. You're about to tell him not to worry about it when he speaks up, "You know," he starts, the uncertainty in his voice giving you pause, "it's no... Miami, but my aunt throws this Christmas party every year? For Christmas Eve. We invite a few friends over for dinner. She'd love it if you came."

"Oh, Peter, that's sweet but... I don't really want to intrude on a friend thing-"

"No, no, it's okay! Anyone can come. It'll just be my aunt, some of her co-workers from F.E.A.S.T., a few of my friends, my ex-girlfriend-"

"Your- what?"

"Oh. Well, I mean, we were friends before we dated. Well... technically? She sort of just... hung around me and Ned in high school and then we started dating for a while but then we broke up in university. But we stayed friends. Became better friends, actually. So, she's my ex but also a really good friend. I promise it's not weird or anything. She's super cool about it. And I am too! Her name's MJ. I think you'll like her."

You stare at Peter. You think you see a bead of sweat twinkle on his forehead underneath the Christmas lights above.

He insists that you're welcome to come, and staying home alone for Christmas would be pretty hypocritical after your argument with Spider-Man.

Spider-Man.

"...and Spider-Man will be there."

Spider-Man?

You abruptly lock eyes with Peter. "Spider-Man?"

Peter's smile is tight-lipped, "Yeah." His voice cracks. "I mean, he's just stopping by real quick, but I invited him. He might not come. But... he also might."

Was this the friend of his throwing a Christmas party? Why in the world would Peter (Parker) invite you to the same party Spider-Man would be at, unless he could stand in the same room as him at the exact same time? There'd be no other way to convince you otherwise, and you'd be forced to accept that they really were two completely different people.

Yeah, right.

You'd go to this party and suss it out for yourself.

And it wouldn't hurt, would it? Peter was nice, if not the most awkward person you've ever met. To offer you a place at his aunt's Christmas dinner not long after hurling an object at his head was a sign of true Christmas spirit. You could learn a thing or two from him, "Okay. You've convinced me. What's your number? You can text me the address."

Peter blanks for a moment, "Um... yeah, um..." You watch him flounder, growing increasingly suspicious, "Can I see your phone?"

You drop your phone in his hand. His fingers move quickly across the keyboard before returning it to you. Peter Parker is now in your contacts. You check the number against Spidey's but there isn't a match. "Thanks," you glance at his wobbly smile, "I sent you a text."

Peter gestures behind him, "Oh, cool, awesome. Will you excuse me for a sec? I gotta use the restroom." And he doesn't wait for you to affirm before he's rushing down the hall and out of sight.

A full minute passes before you receive a text back from Peter.

15 Amfan Ave Forest Hills, NY 11375 7pm :) Hope you can make it! He never shuts up about you *I *shut

Hm.

So... I hear you're throwing things at people now Who told you that? You lose one phone, then you try to bludgeon an innocent man with another. I should lock you up and throw away the key I wasn't trying to bludgeon him, because I knew he'd be perfectly *fine*. And he helped me prove a point Which was... That the chances of him being you are more likely than either of you would have me to believe Could it be that you just have a thing for attractive, masked men? That is That is irrelevant to the conversation HA you so do Literally nothing to do with anything I just said It's okay. The mask makes it really easy to project one's ideal man onto me. Or so I've learned through Twitter I'm not projecting *anything* onto you Do you picture Ryan Reynolds when you talk to me? It's okay if you do Peter, shut up Maybe someone more boyish like Timothy chalet Timothee Chalet Timothee Chalamett I'd say you just like hearing yourself talk but this is a textual conversation I like that we can talk like this :) I like it too :) What about Tom Holland? We've got the same jaw If you think me accusing you of being Parker is me projecting a handsome man onto you, I can only assume you think he's hot. Which means I can assume you have a thing for him. Because I can also make things up Like Batman and Clark Kent? Are you saying Parker is the Clark Kent in our fictional relationship? More like Superman and Jimmy Olsen And you're my Lois Lane? ... Goodnight, Peter

Aunt May's home is beautiful. There's a lovingly sculpted garden out front that has since given into the snow, but you can tell it's a sight in the spring. For now, the Christmas garland lining the doorframe—wrapped in a rope of rainbow lights—brightens up the porch. As does the collection of little striped sweater-wearing gnomes gathered around the front door.

There's a commotion of voices behind it as you approach. You shift your plate into one hand, pressing the doorbell with the other, and the voices get louder. You swallow down your nerves when the door is ripped open by a stranger.

The stranger in question is staring out into the dark at you like they weren't expecting you. Your eyes quickly dart to the plaque beside the door and see a bold "15" emblazoned there. Nope. This is the house.

Their eyes zero in on the plate in your hand. Smiling, they open the door wide and step back, "Sweet! Peter said you'd bring dessert."

You kick the snow off your boots before stepping inside. The stranger shuts the door behind you before any more of the cold could get in. "It's peppermint bark," you explain, returning a smile of your own, "but I hear May's making a cake."

"May and Peter. May's great with everything but the oven- don't tell her I said that. I'm Ned, by the way." Ned holds his hand out for a shake.

Ned is really talkative, you find out. He holds your peppermint bark as you undo your boots and coat at the door, rattling off about how Peter and he had been friends at Midtown. He tells you about his job as a cybersecurity specialist, a job he'd naturally floated toward after graduating from MIT, and how he'd stayed with the Parkers for a few months after moving back to New York. It's how he knows that the downstairs bathroom door won't close unless you lift up when you shut it. You only remember about half of what he says by the time you get to the living room.

There are considerably fewer people than you expected, one of which makes his way over the minute you catch his eye.

"Hey," Harry grins. Unlike the nice suit he'd worn to the gala, he's dressed down in jeans and an ugly sweater with "I've been naughty" printed in big letters across the front, looking a lot less tense than when you'd first seen him, "Fancy seeing you here."

"I could say the same." You can't help but ask, "Don't the Osborns host Christmas Eve at Oscorp tower every year?"

Harry's good mood fizzles out right before your eyes. You feel pretty awful about it. "Uh, yeah. Norman does. But it's more business than anything, so I dipped. I'd rather be here watching Pete fuck up a perfectly good cake."

"I heard that!" Peter's voice calls from a room away.

Harry's good mood returns, "Well, it's good to see you at the annual Parker holiday celebration. And I'll forgive you for poking into my family business if you hand over those treats."

Bashful, you let Ned pass the plate into your hands before passing it to Harry, "Sorry. Reporter brain."

Harry's nose scrunches up, "Don't apologize. Unless these taste like ass."

"I promise they taste better than ass."

"Good enough," he backs away, turning his head to shout down the hall, "Peter! Get in here already!"

When the redhead is immersed in a game of UNO, you turn to Ned, "And that doesn't... feel weird? Having Harry Osborn at family dinner?"

"There are weirder things about Peter. Speak of the devil."

The ugly sweater is the first thing you notice. A companion to Harry's, it is nearly the exact same design, except for the "I've been nice" where the "I've been naughty" had been. He's dusting his hands of something when he comes around the corner. His eyes soften when he sees you with Ned, "Hey, you came." He says in a much too gentle voice. Harry and his opponents nearly drown him out with their cheers and boos.

Unlike at the office party, you notice, Peter's hair isn't tamed by hat nor hair gel. Instead, it curls incessantly around his flushed cheeks. He looked like a damn Keebler elf. It was frustratingly adorable. "Of course. I heard there'd be cake."

"How is that cake, Peter?" Ned pulls on a piece of the ugly sweater as he walks by, and you realize that some of the red had been singed. You follow Peter's frantic gaze from the hole to you.

"This was unrelated to the cake."

"You burned something else?"

"No! One of the stockings fell into the fireplace and I-" Peter trails off as you begin to smile, "you don't get to laugh at me if you didn't bring sweets."

"I did! Harry stole them." You nod over to the coffee table where the group is devouring your peppermint bark with reckless abandon. At least you knew they didn't taste like ass. Peter rushes over to steal the plate before they could polish off the last handful, much to their protest.

"Dinner's almost ready, I swear. You've met Ned, uh, Harry..." Peter scans the group, using his free hand to point out people, "...that's Yolanda, Katie, Lexie, Eduardo: all May's friends. May's in the kitchen but I'd stay out of her way until the ham comes out unharmed."

You notice that out of everyone gathered in the house, he does not mention his ex-girlfriend. "And MJ?"

You wait for an answer. Instead, something heavy shakes the house from above. It doesn't sound like it came from outside, but rather somewhere in the house. Not quite above your head. Weirdly enough, only you seem to be concerned about it.

Peter just glances at the ceiling, "And MJ."

MJ is tossing an empty storage bin to the side when you crawl up through the floor behind Peter. She's crouched on the balls of her feet, shoulders slouched, the sharp bones of her back poking through her tight graphic tee. Her head snaps toward you both when she hears you grunt up the last rung of the ladder. Her eyes narrow on you, then Peter, "I can't find it."

Peter offers you a hand to hoist you further into the attic, "Did you check the-"

"Yes. And I checked the one next to it. And the one next to that."

You look at Peter for an explanation, but he doesn't provide you with one. He walks over to where MJ has now fallen back on her ass, rifling through one of the bins. His mouth twists to the side. "Maybe she meant the box next to her old CDs?"

"There's like 15 boxes in here, Peter."

Off to the side of the room, where MJ was currently facing the mysterious dilemma, were about nine—not 15—storage bins in disarray. Two were off to the side, emptied of their contents: there were piles of men's clothes, women's clothes, baby blankets, and more. The third box that MJ was poring over had Halloween decorations in it.

"Well, you're getting close." Peter encourages.

The way MJ grumbles resentfully has you squirming. As time ticked on, your presence unannounced, you were starting to feel like an intruder. You clear your throat and MJ looks over at you for the second time, "Maybe I could help?" You offer.

At this, MJ brightens. "Finally! Someone cares about my plight. I don't know you, do I?"

You crawl over to where MJ is sitting and Peter gestures to you, "MJ, I told you about the reporter from the Bugle, right?" You give your name for good measure, and MJ's eyebrows raise. She gives a quick, indecipherable look to Peter. He returns it. Then she examines you.

After a moment, she dusts her hand off on her khakis and holds it out for you to shake, "Michelle Jones. Call me MJ." You repeat her nickname warmly. "Peter never shuts up about you."

Peter chokes on his spit.

"He... he does?"

MJ continues shaking your hand for longer than necessary, smiling secretively now, "Oh, yeah. He's got your blog bookmarked too. Post notifs for your Twitter, the works." You cut your eyes to Peter, appalled that he'd ratted you out to someone else, but MJ is quick, "I figured it out on my own ages ago."

"Is it really that obvious it's me?"

"No." And she smiles wider.

Peter is about to cut in with something when a woman's voice rings out, shrill and clear despite two layers of flooring in between you. He's needed with the ham. He looks between you and MJ, reluctant, "Look, if you can't find it-"

"We will." MJ's reply is confident, leaving no room for failure. You feel a little pressure applied to "we".

Peter nods. He mouths an apology at you and skitters out of the attic.

Left alone with MJ, you notice that she is staring at you now. You feel like you've been left alone with an oracle, prepared for your innermost being to be laid bare before you: past, present, and future. She looks like the type to know what makes people tick.

"What are you looking for?" You try to break the silence, though your voice comes out meeker than you'd have liked.

She doesn't look away from you as her fingers grip the container in between her legs, "Uncle Ben's favorite Christmas sweater. All I know is it has a reindeer holding a beer on the front."

Reinbeer. You almost laugh at it. You imagine it would tickle an uncle pink too. "Then I'll get to looking."

You've only just crawled over to a bin of your own when MJ asks you outright, "You like Peter, right?"

Your hand stills as it pries the top off. You feel her eyes burning into your back. "He's... nice, yeah."

You can hear how unimpressed she is with that, "I don't know if it's obvious, but Peter isn't exactly popular." You think that's kind of a cruel thing to say about someone you consider a friend, but MJ keeps going, "All he had was Ned back at Midtown. And me, eventually. I've known him since high school and he's made maybe a handful of friends, maybe less. The last time he invited someone new to Christmas dinner was Harry."

And that had been at least a few years, judging by how long Harry had been away at Oxford.

But why was she telling you this?

"He likes you." You yelp when you realize MJ's voice has gotten close. You turn, and she's kneeling behind you with no interest in your fear. "But do you like him?"

In her hands is a faded, toy Iron Man mask. "I... I think he's nice. I mean kind," you correct yourself when MJ frowns, "but I... I don't really know him. I mean, I don't think I do. I've only actually spoken to him twice and one of those times, there was a gun involved. Everything I know about him is through his pictures and Spidey, and I trust Spidey. So, I trust Peter."

"And Spider-Man?"

"What?"

"Do you like Spider-Man?"

You swallow. Like didn't really sum up how you felt about him. He was a hero, an inspiration, a friend, and also... yeah, you felt something more there too.

You think about why she would ask. Why it would have anything to do with you liking Peter or not. You look at her and it feels like she hasn't really asked you that different of a question at all. Your answer is much more definitive this time, "I do. I like him more than I know what to do with."

MJ leans back on her haunches. She appraises you, "He's pretty great, isn't he?" Her tone is considerably softer.

"Yeah. He really is." You smile.

MJ hands the mask to you and you take it, admiring the chips in its paint and the lovingly worn edges. She scoots between you and the bin you'd been looking into and pops the lid off. Almost immediately, she swears in relief. Sitting folded on top is the most gaudy sweater you've ever seen. A deformed reindeer is embroidered on the front, and sure enough, holds a can of beer in its hoof. When MJ shakes it out, little specks of dust fly everywhere.

This, too, she hands to you. You look at her in bewilderment. "You'll wanna make a good first impression with May," she advises, "just be prepared for the water works."

And there are water works.

May throws her arms around your neck and just about sobs her thanks to you, squishing the sweater between your chests. You note that she smells like candy canes. When she draws back, her glasses are all askew, "And I'm so glad you could make it! Peter wouldn't shut up about you. Isn't that right, Petey?"

Peter's eye twitches. "I'm gonna set the table. Ned, you wanna set the table?" And he scoots past you and May without waiting for a response.

"Don't mind him, he gets testy when he's cooking. Did Petey give you the tour?" You shake your head and May kisses her teeth in Peter's direction, "Okay, this is the kitchen, around the corner here is the dining room. You've seen the living room and the attic. The bathroom is by the front door, and the bedrooms are upstairs. If someone's in the bathroom down here, do not use the bathroom by the stairs. That's Ned's favorite when he gets bubbly guts, and he will get bubbly guts."

Ned complains under his breath as he walks by.

"If you need somewhere to get away from the festivities for a bit, backyard's that way and my room's upstairs, first door to the left. All good?" She pets your shoulder. Then, she looks down at the sweater still in your hands and takes it from you, tenderly. "I'm gonna go change into this and then dinner is served. Help yourself to anything, okay?"

May leaves you in the kitchen with that. Around the corner, Peter and Ned are fussing over where to put the ham and sides. Around the other corner, Harry is drunkenly singing Christmas carols with Yolanda. MJ watches on from the corner of the room, recording on her phone. She catches your eye and mouths, "For blackmail."

You peek into the dining room and Peter is worrying over one of the chairs. You can hear Ned scold him, "Sit next to them. You don't wanna talk over the ham. It'll kill the mood."

"But how do I... subtly get them to sit in this chair and not next to MJ or something?"

"Tell MJ not to sit next to them."

"But what if-" You jolt a little when Peter suddenly spots you eavesdropping. He straightens up with a death grip on the chair he'd been messing with, "Hey! Hi. This is your chair by the way." And he tops it all off with a smile.

It's warm in May's home.

You don't even register the cold at first. You do register Harry's frenzy, the way he grabs far more napkins than he needs to, pressing them to your stomach where the majority of his spilled drink had gone. When you finally do comprehend what just happened, you place your hands over his, "How long have you been plotting your revenge?"

Harry is red-faced. He lets you hold the napkins there while May rushes to find a towel, "Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was- sorry."

You don't get to dwell on the déjà vu of it all. May is ushering you up the stairs with a beach towel pressed to your front, muttering about how she'll have to put Harry on ginger ale for the rest of the night. She guides you into what you're certain is Peter's old bedroom.

It's been cleaned out, and most of his personal belongings must be at his own place, but there are still old posters on the wall, and a calendar dated in April, two years ago. His bed is ruffled like he'd slept overnight. It's neat, and looks like it usually is neat, but there are traces of him everywhere, like picture frames with Peter and May and a man you don't recognize.

"Peter probably has something here you can wear. It's all stuff from college." She digs through the top drawer of his dresser, finally stopping on a sweatshirt with Empire State University in college block across the chest. "Here! You think this'll fit?"

She stretches it out and you nod, thankful, "Yeah, thank you so much, May."

She smiles, "Okay. Bathroom's across the hall if you need to wash off. I can run your shirt through a wash while you're here if you'd like. Just let me know, okay?"

May is, perhaps, the sweetest woman on earth. She leaves you with a thumbs up and shuts the door behind you, reminding you to lock it after she leaves.

Your shirt had absorbed most of the drink, and you're relatively unscathed besides some sticky residue. You wipe at your stomach with the towel she'd given you and slip Peter's sweater on. It feels... odd, wearing it. It smells like May's house with little traces of Peter.

Your eyes drift back to the picture frames.

One such frame sits on top of the dresser, a photo of Peter and the man who you assume is Uncle Ben. He holds Peter in a headlock but they're both smiling at the camera. You smile too, tracing a finger around the wooden edges.

Another picture is of Peter and MJ and Ned, standing outside of MIT with their fingers pointing at the school. Another is of Peter and MJ sharing cotton candy at Coney. Another is of Peter as a little boy, with two people flanking his side that you do not know. You realize you'd never asked about Peter's parents.

There are other photos of him around that age with May and Ben, and as you piece together what feels like an undoubtedly tragic story, you catch something outside the window.

A person. Hanging onto the side of the house.

Your heart hammers in your chest as a hand pushes the window up, and then, "Did I scare you?" Spider-Man perches on the sill with what you can imagine is a shit-eating grin.

You stomp over to the window and shove at his shoulder, but he doesn't budge in the slightest, "You almost gave me a heart attack! Were you watching me get dressed?"

The mask's eyes blow open, "What? No! I swear I just got here."

"Do you ever use the front door?"

"Not if I can help it," he crawls in, staying planted by the window, "don't tell me you're snooping through Parker's things."

"I was just... looking. At the pictures. And Harry Osborn spilled his drink all over me so I had to borrow Parker's shirt."

"Hm. ESU looks good on you."

You look up at Peter, who keeps his hands tucked behind his back, leaning against the wall by the window. "Aren't you gonna say hi to the party? Make Parker look cool?"

"Eventually. Maybe. Might just watch from afar."

"No, nuh-uh. You said you had holiday plans and that you were going to a party. That doesn't count if you're watching from afar."

Peter's head sways to the side, "I never said this was the party I was going to."

"Is there another?"

"Well... maybe. Maybe not."

"Peter-" You whine, but he cuts you off.

"I'm not a party guy! Sue me."

"Well, then Parker's got you beat two for two. Unless you're lying, since I haven't given up on my conspiracy theory."

Peter presses himself off the wall, sauntering toward you in a zig-zag. Your eyes follow him, back and forth, back and forth, until he's a step or two away. His hand reaches out to play with one of your sleeves, its seams resewn with mismatched thread, "Leaving a party as Peter Parker to come back as Spider-Man. Give Parker some credit. That's the kind of plan you come up with in high school."

You shrug, trying not to act like Peter playing with your sleeve wasn't giving you goosebumps. "You never know."

Peter nods, "Yeah, you're right. I mean, he was really excited to see you."

"Oh yeah?" You swallow.

"Yeah. Was kind of pathetic, actually."

Peter shoots a web at the ceiling and twists, catching the web between his feet so he could hang upside down. The suddenness makes you stumble back with a breathless laugh, "That's not a very nice thing to say about a friend."

"Weren't you the one who said he'd be shaking and crying if you yelled at him?"

You sigh, "I was... I was teasing you."

"Because I'm Peter Parker."

He says it matter of fact. You stare at him, "Yeah," you whisper, "that's right."

He pulls himself up the web until he's face to face with you, "Then that wouldn't be very nice to say to a friend, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't. If you were Peter Parker, I guess I'd have to apologize to you."

"Yeah? How?"

You breathe deep. Everyone is still laughing downstairs. You become hyper-aware of the fact that you hadn't locked the door. At any moment, someone could walk in and...

Peter waits, curious.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, pressing into the fabric of his mask, feeling over the ridges where black lines broke red. You know what you want to do. And you also know that there is no going back if you do it.

Your fingers reach the place where the mask meets the rest of his suit. Hooking two fingers under the fabric, you pull.

Your fingernails trace over the curve of his Adam's apple as it bobs, over the jut of his chin. Peter's breath is heaving. One of his hands releases its grip on the web and you see it glide toward yours out of the corner of your eye. You just feel the skin of his bottom lip under your finger when you realize how this might look. What he might think you're trying to do.

Mask in hand, questions of his identity hanging in the air, your curiosity and his vulnerability. You release the mask, awash with worry. You want to get it out before there's any misunderstanding, but as your hand drifts back to yourself, his catches it. You would give anything to know what he's thinking right now.

Peter lets your fingers fall. Silently, he drags the mask over the tip of his nose and leaves it resting there. An invitation. "I trust you." He promises. And kisses you.

He has to stretch a little to reach you. You understand this and press closer, taking the back of his head in your hands and holding it steady for you, but you know you're trembling. You curse yourself for how much your body reacts to this, how uncool you must look, how you shake with all the excitement and terror of this. You kiss him and feel silly about how you claimed to know his lips so well before now. That was nothing.

This is everything. So many things. Each time you go back in for more, you lock away some new little detail about him.

Peter places a hand against your neck and tugs you even closer, but the momentum makes him swing a little bit so his nose bumps your chin. You're too stiff to laugh, but he does, "Sorry," his voice is raspy, "this looked cooler in my head."

You lean into him, dizzied, "Was this... did you plan for me to kiss you? When you got up there?"

"I've wanted to kiss you plenty of ways." Peter's admission is followed by a sigh. He presses a hand to your chest and nudges you back a step before he's dropping to his feet and advancing upon you once more, bumping you against the dresser as the picture frames rattle. Your fingers sneak under his mask at the back of his head so they can sink into his silky hair.

He probably kisses you a hundred more times after that. Every kiss you think might be the last, but then you feel a tug in your chest and go in for one more. An itch that no scratch can soothe.

Peter's mask starts to slip and you feel one of his hands leave your waist to fix it, but the warmth your fingers had snuggled into disappears and-

You keep your eyes screwed shut, "Peter." You gasp against his mouth. Your fingers twitch in his hair, finding no resistance.

"It's okay," he nudges your nose with his, still pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth, "it's okay."

"But-"

"Don't you wanna know if you were right?"

You squeak when his lips find the underside of your jaw, "I don't need- you don't need to-"

"You're always right," Peter interrupts you, kissing down your neck, "I was never fooling you. You're so smart, you know that?"

"Peter." You say his name with no real plans for it to do anything, letting your head fall back.

"Please." He says back. Urging.

You lift your head, heart hammering away, and meet the eyes of Peter Parker.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for ignoring a dog?

title sounds bad but idk how to phrase it. I (25f) live in the sticks, middle of nowhere. like twenty minutes from a gas station, dirt road off a dirt road. my community is VERY small, so I know almost everyone and their dogs/cats.

I knocked doors (think Get Out the Vote type stuff) for work for years. I love that kind of work, I am so excited to eventually get back to it. but an unfortunate side effect has been that I am scared of dogs that I don't know. most dog owners ime don't train them. even when the dogs are friendly, I am worried w them bc I am disabled and getting knocked down can seriously injure me more easily than most. I still love dogs IF I know them, and actually have one myself.

i was on my way home from work and saw this very fancy, purebred dog in a field. it was a larger dog, one of the kinds where they crop the tail and ears (I think it's mean to do this but irrelevant). I'd never seen it before, my community is poor and idk anyone who even has the money for a dog like that, and I'd have remembered if I'd seen it before bc it's so strange for here. It had a collar, and was in a big field miles away from any houses without anyone around. so it was clearly lost, and probs belongs to someone's family member/friend from a big city.

I kept driving. I wanted to stop for it, bc it's clearly someone's dog, not from the area, and probably not aware of country life. cars go by fast on the paved roads, there's bears, coyotes, wolves, ticks, etc. and it's a very northern place so it's still cold enough to where I have a timer going when I let my dog out so her paws don't freeze.

I didn't stop bc 1.) idk this dog, so I was nervous about it, 2.) if I did stop and it wasn't aggressive towards me, how would I know it wouldn't be towards my dog or my cats? 3.) we don't have shelters here just bc the community is so small so idk what I'd do w it if I couldn't find the owners and I really can't take in another animal atm- financially, food would be fine but I wouldn't be able to cover an extra vet bill if something awful happened, and don't have the time to re-home an animal responsibly and 4.) I'm gonna be honest, it was Friday, the work week was really long, it was cold, and I was having a rough day and ready to get home and relax.

I feel like an asshole bc I always stop and pick up my neighbors dogs when they get out bc there's so much dangerous shit here, between wildlife, cars and the cold.

[yelenasdiary]

New Friend Request

Pairing: Gamer! Kate Bishop x Reader

Summary: After posting on a subreddit looking for people to play a new game with, you received a new friend request.  

| Comfort? | 0.8K | No Warnings | 

AC: Here is something a little different to my usual works! I hope you enjoy this, I found it pretty fun to write!

It was Friday night, you had a weekend off from work and had planned to sit down with plenty of snacks and binge play a new video game you just treated yourself too. The only downside was that all your friends that you played video games with were either busy this weekend or had no interest in playing the new game you'd been waiting so long to play.

With a sigh and nerves kicking around in your stomach you decide to post on a subreddit asking if anybody else would like somebody to play with over the weekend. It wasn't something you'd done before but you liked playing games with friends more than playing solo.

Hours had past and your phone was left dry, not a single notification from anybody reacting to your post. Another sigh left your body as you tossed your phone to the side and decided to turn your PS4 off.

*DING*

(LuckyArrow has sent a friend request)

The notification stared at you deeply as the feeling of excitement and relief soon filled you. You punched in your passcode and quickly accepted the strangers friend request.

LuckyArrow: Hey! are you still looking for somebody to play Dying Light 2 with? I saw your post on reddit! ☺️

yourusername: Hey, I am! I just thought the game and none of my friends want to play it with me 😩

LuckyArrow: agh! that sucks! I have a friend, Yelena, she doesn't play video games much and refuses to play with me! If you want, I'd love to play it with you. Have you played the first one?

yourusername: That would be great! Thanks! I'm assuming your user is LuckyArrow on PSN aswell? I have played the first, have you? Oh! btw, I'm Y/n!

LuckyArrow: Sure is! You have a cute name! I'm Kate, are you from New York?

yourusername: Oh wow! 😅 Don't take this the wrong way but I wasn't expecting you to be a girl! I actually just moved to NYC! Are you also from here?

LuckyArrow: You'd be surprised how many of us female gamers are out here ☺️ Where did you move from? if you don't mind me asking

yourusername: Just a small town that was hella boring! hence why I got into video games haha!

LuckyArrows: I hope you don't mind, I had a look at some of the game you play! You have good taste, how far are you into the story of Dying Light?

yourusername: Thanks! & not very far, I don't really like playing games solo most of the time. I've completed the first couple of missions though so I'm able to play co-op.

LuckyArrows: Awesome! Well, I have plenty of time tonight if you'd like to play now? If not, just let me know when you're free and we'll work something out ☺️

yourusername: Actually, I'm free all weekend so now would be great! Do you wanna play on my save or we can start one on your game? Whatever works ☺️

LuckyArrow: I've already completed it, let's just do a save on your game! Send me an invite x

LuckyArrow: Sorry about the x!!!! I'm just used to sending it to friends 😅😅

yourusername: Don't stress! it's okay ☺️ I'll send you an invite rn!

Friday night soon faded into the early hours of Saturday morning, plenty of laughs and jokes were made between you and your new friend, Kate. You learnt a lot about her, you felt comfortable with her even though she technically is still a stranger online, you both planned to meet for pizza for lunch.

Who knew that a simple post online would lead to you making a new friend.

2 months later

LuckyArrow: Hey! you free this weekend? sorry I couldn't play last weekend, I had a mission...I missed you though! 💜

yourusername: Hey!! Don't stress it, you get to actually kick some bad guys butts! it's pretty cool! I am free this weekend, I took work off, I need a break anyways. I missed you too, did your mission go well?

LuckyArrow: Meh, it was a pain (literally) but one less menace on the streets to deal with now! 💪🏼, I actually wanted to ask if you'd like to come over...I can order pizza and we can play video games or something, whatever you like! 😅

yourusername: Of course! it'll be so fun! Are you okay though? you seem a little off? x

LuckyArrow: I'm Fine ☺️ wanna come over Friday?

yourusername: Lock it in! Friday, date night haha!

LuckyArrow: Haha...😅

yourusername: Are you sure you're okay?

LuckyArrow: I'm not good this...but, I'm not asking you to just come over as a friend..😅

yourusername: Kate, are you asking me out on a date?

LuckyArrow: I am...we don't have to do something so causal, in fact I'd like to take you out on a real date but I don't want to scare you off or make things awkward between us..

yourusername: Oh thank god! Honeslty, I'm so glad you asked because I've really wanted to ask you out but I also didn't want to ruin anything

LuckyArrow: Well now that makes me feel a lot better! How about I pick you up at 6pm on Friday?

yourusername: it's a date! x

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @kiwiana145  | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok |  @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145  | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @musicinourlips | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @blue-serendipityy | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | 

[the-guilty-writer]

The Big Game and Revelations

Agent Rossi-Reid

Anthology Masterlist

David Rossi x daughter!reader,  Spencer Reid x reader, Criminal minds x BAU!reader

Summary: A fun night out with the team turns into a case, which turns into a disaster, which turns into Rossi-Reid’s own personal Hell.

A/N: Ah, yes… this one should be interesting and after the Super Bowl I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I did try to get this out on the night of the Super Bowl but I fell asleep trying to finish it. I think it was worth the extra week it took to write it though.

CW: Rewrite of S2E14 and E15 so it’s heavy, very minor suicidal idealation.

---

You were actually excited about the Super Bowl this year for one reason and one reason only… 

The Chicago Bears were playing.

And you had a bet with Derek Morgan. The two of you had pooled a week's worth of paperwork each… and the loser had to do all of it.

Of course Derek had his love for Chicago and team spirit on his side.

But you had Peyton Manning.

And Spencer Reid.

Before placing the bet, you had pulled up all the statistics and you and your husband spent your day off deciding mathematically, who would be the most likely to win Super Bowl XLI. Ultimately, the formula that Spencer had come up with predicted the Colts would come out on top. The next day you didn't hesitate to challenge Morgan, and with his competitive spirit and hometown honor on the line, he couldn't resist the bet.

A hopeful blow to Morgan's ego wasn't the only reason you had wagered with him, though. With a whole week of paperwork off your plate, you'd be able to take the Friday after Valentine's day off so you and Spencer could take a mini vacation.

Spencer knew this was the plan the moment you'd given him the stack of papers filled with player stats. He was looking forward to it too.

The entire team, with the exception of Gideon, was at a local bar. You and Spencer were sitting at a table with a few people you'd met, Spencer impressing them with his extensive knowledge of Star Trek. Morgan was on the dance floor, Penelope was shamelessly watching him, JJ was kicking ass at darts. You saw Prentiss bringing drinks toward a table, noticing that Hotch had even brought Haley for the occasion. Quietly, you excused yourself to go say hi to them.

Besides, it was good for Spencer to be left without you sometimes. The last few cases you’d spent more time with other members of the team. Part of that had to do with the nature of the cases, but part of it also had to do with the fact that Gideon had asked you to watch over Emily. You weren’t sure if it was as Agent Gideon who trusted your evaluation of another agent's abilities, or Uncle Jason who knew that you really needed more friends; but it meant that you’d worked with her on a few consults and even been paired together on a case.

The shift in dynamics had forced a shift in Spencer. You could see that slowly, but surely, the confidence in him at work was growing, and you loved to see it. It was in the little ways he would tease Morgan back now, or that he didn’t hesitate to bother Prentiss while she was in the middle of paperwork. Even though the ordeal with Nathan Harris had been tragic, watching Spencer take a role of someone older and wiser, yet still compassionate and still himself, showed you how much he had grown since you’d first met him.

“How are they treating you at the BAU, Emily?” You heard Haley say as you approached them.

“She means, am I being nice to you?” Hotch said.

“Actually, everyone has been incredibly nice.” Emily smiled.

“I think it’d be nice if the boss covered all our drinks tonight,” you said as you walked up beside Emily.

Haley laughed and Hotch cracked a smile. “For everyone but you, (Y/N),” he said.

You faked offense, bringing a hand to your chest before turning to the Hotchner. You knew she always got a kick out of your theatrics. “Haley, do you see how he treats me?”

Haley laughed again. “You be nice to her,” she scolded Hotch playfully. He pouted and she laughed again. “I swear you two bicker like siblings.”

Hotch was about to say something when Garcia interrupted. “Look at him move.” The 'him' in question was Morgan, and the move in question was… questionable. He hadn’t even noticed the Bears had lost. “He’s like a cat.”

“More like a dog!” You and Emily said at the same time. Both of you grinned. Gideon had truly created a monster by making the two of you work together.

“He did not ask them to dance. They asked him,” Garcia defended.

“Okay,” Emily said. “Okay, he’s a cat.”

“An alley cat,” Haley commented. You nodded in agreement.

“Come on, Haley, let’s go show them how it’s done,” Hotch said as he grabbed her hand.

“I’m game if you are!” Haley looked at you as Hotch led her away. You faked a retch, making her giggle.

“That’s so sweet!” Emily sighed a bit.

“It gets a little gross after twelve years,” you told her. “Especially when I had to listen to him pin nonstop for the first two years they dated… "Oh I never thought she’d love me, why do I have to go on a case for twenty four hours away from my love, oh why, why, why’…” You tried your best to mock young Hotch in love.

“So you and Reid won’t be gross in another eight years?” Emily asked.

You watched Hotch spin Haley around on the dancefloor, both of them simply enjoying the presence of one another. The way they moved with one another had nothing to do with acts of lust (unlike Morgan who was… being Morgan), and everything to do with knowing a person inside and out. Hotch leaned in to whisper something to Haley and she threw her head back with laughter. Her laugh made him smile.

In all the years you had known Aaron Hotchner, no one could make him smile like Haley Brooks did.

“Maybe a little,” you said, just low enough that no one could hear you over the music.

“Hey,” JJ said as she approached from behind. You could already tell by the tone in her voice what was coming next.

“We have a case, don’t we?” you said.

JJ sighed. “Yes. We do.”

---

The case was odd, to say the least. With so much evidence, the team should have been able to put a profile together easily, but things just weren’t adding up. The religious obsession combined with the technology, the dominant and submissive team dynamics that weren’t constant, the obvious organization with, what seemed to you to be, a disorganized system.

You were out in the field with Morgan when you got the text that there was another crime scene. Morgan was on the phone with Garcia. “Yeah, baby girl. Tell him we’re on our way.” He whipped the car around. 

When you arrived on the scene, you got straight to work, but just like before, nothing seemed to make sense. The religious ramblings were beginning to irritate you. You understood them enough, but you didn’t have extensive knowledge on different analysis on the passages over the centuries or know the actual wording in Latin like Spencer did. But Spencer wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Hotch,” you called to him. “Where’s Spence?”

“I sent him and JJ to go interview someone who might know something,” Hotch told you. The vagueness of it all told you that it was probably nothing- that it was a stretch.

But hours later, the distress on Hotch’s face and the strain to keep his voice steady made it obvious to you that it wasn’t a stretch. “Hankle?”

“Hotch, what is it?” Morgan’s voice was filled with concern as well.

But when Hotch answered, he wasn’t looking at Morgan, he wasn’t looking at Gideon or Emily; he was looking at you. “JJ and Reid went to interview him. He’s the unsub.”

---

The drive to the unsub’s house was a chaotic collage of names and tactical plans, of kevlar and lights and sirens. But you hardly remembered any of it. Your mind was on Spencer.

There was always a chance that he and JJ were fine; that they realized he was the unsub and parked out of cell service, waiting for the rest of you to arrive. But there was also a chance that they weren’t fine.

When you arrived on scene, your brain kicked into a different gear- it wasn’t wife gear, but it also wasn’t Agent Rossi gear. It was a strange inbetween that you had never felt before- a collected calm caused by panic. You went with Morgan and Prentiss to the barn, only to find yourself on the wrong side of JJ’s sidearm.

“JJ,” Morgan called. “It’s Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss. Don’t shoot.” JJ lowered her gun and Morgan did the same, approaching her. “It’s okay. Are you hurt?”

You approached JJ alongside your other two team members. Your mind was cloudy and clear at the same time, your body shaky but still. In JJ’s frazzled state she continued to talk, ignoring Morgan’s question- the one you wanted to know the answer to- where was your husband?

When Prentiss got her to slow down, telling you that they had split up and Reid took the back, you didn’t hesitate to follow Morgan out into the cornfield. There were obvious signs that someone had been dragged and then the trail stopped. You could see it in your head like a nightmare- Spencer being drug through the vegetation and thrown into the back of a vehicle.

Somehow you ended up in the house with the rest of the team, hearing, but not truly listening to what they were saying. You stood at the window, the flashing blue and red lights highlighting the streaks in the grass. The whole world was slow and blurry, but not from tears; it was from shock. You recalled the first time you ever got shot- it wasn’t bad, but the sudden impact of the bullet and the instantaneous pain that followed made it feel as though your brain had disconnected from your body. But that sensation had ended in a few minutes… this one felt never ending. That was, until, Gideon asked the question.

“Where’s Reid?”

“Gone,” you answered before Morgan could.

Your head came back to you, the shakiness of your hands stopping, something building inside you like a dormant volcano- destined to explode, but no one would see the signs until it was too late. You looked at the team. They were lined up in a semicircle, each of them looking at you with a different adverse emotion- Morgan, resentment; Prentiss, pity; Hotch, anxiety; Gideon, disbelief; and JJ; guilt.

“Spencer’s gone.”

---

You didn’t sleep that night, but Morgan was adamant that you take breaks, drink water, and provided you with many gentle squeezes on the shoulder when he walked by. Prentiss sat down with you and together, the two of you began unpacking the journals before going through them. She was less about sympathetic looks and more about action. It was a good combination for you at the moment.

The rest of the team on the other hand was… Well, JJ avoided you at all costs. Gideon didn’t actively avoid you, but he couldn’t seem to look at you and when you spoke he always left the room. Hotch up and left- driving all the way back to DC to get Garcia and then all the way back. He could have had any other agent do it, but he did it himself. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t trust anyone at the moment, or if it was because he needed to run.

When Gideon got the call that Hotch and Garcia were on their way, all of you gathered in the room downstairs, surrounded by boxes and journals and things that would hopefully lead you to finding Doctor Reid. That’s how you had to think of him right now; not as Spencer, your husband, of Agent Reid, your colleague, but of Doctor Reid- just some smart guy with three PhDs. You knew that it was distancing yourself from the situation, but you couldn’t help it. If that’s what you had to do, you would do it.

“Welcome to our nightmare,” JJ said as Garica walked through the door.

It might just be a nightmare to you, but it’s worse than Hell for me. You swallowed your anger and told the voice at the back of your head to shut up. You had a job to do. She shouldn’t have let them split up.

Morgan and Garcia got started in the room full of computers, JJ went to take a break, and Gideon and Emily went to do some more searching upstairs. You sat down at the table and went through more of the journals. The entries weren’t long, but there were a lot of them.

Spencer would get through these in less than an hour.

“(Y/N),” the voice was strong, but more gentle than you were used to. “You should take a break.”

“I don’t need a break, Hotch,” you told him, looking up to meet his unblinking eyes for just a second.

He didn’t argue. He knew better. “I’ll be back to check in later.”

You went back to the journals.

---

Night had fallen and it felt like you were no closer to finding Doctor Reid than you had been when the sun rose. Most of the journals were religious ramblings, and Garcia was working as hard as she could on the computer system, but it still wasn’t matching up. The profile was still a mess. The whole thing was a mess.

“Rossi,” Morgan said. You didn’t respond. He plucked the journal out of your hand. 

“Morgan-”

“I’m going to check the perimeter.”

“Okay?”

“Come with me,” he said.

You hesitated. “Okay, lead the way.”

You followed Morgan out of the house and into the night. He walked ahead of you, flashlight in hand. You had to admit that the fresh air was relieving, helping clear any residual fog from your brain. You scanned the sides of the house, the broken boards that needed to be repaired, the roof that needed new shingles, and the gutter full of leaves. Your eyes trailed downward, landing on something strange, something new…

“Morgan!” You called. You jogged over to the cellar doors, drawing your sidearm on the way.

Morgan ran up next to you. “Hey guys, I think we’ve got something!”

Hotch and Prentiss were quick to join you. No words needed to be spoken- Hotch would go in first, then Morgan, and you and Prentiss would stand guard outside. The two men entered the cellar, glocks drawn. You listened carefully, but you couldn’t quite make out all their words.

When Hotch and Morgan came out of the cellar, both of them looked disturbed.

“Anything?” Emily asked.

“We found Hankle’s father,” Hotch said. “He’s dead.”

---

It felt like time was moving at the speed of light and standing still all at the same time. You continued to be able to catch small bits of information- JJ and Prentiss were going to look into Hankle’s Narcotics Anonymous meetings, Hankle’s father had been dead for six months, Garcia was making progress on the computer system- making the day fly by and slow down all at the same time. Around noon, your brain failed you and you fell asleep at the table for just a few hours. By the time you’d woken up, the rest of the team had figured out that Hankle was living as three different people and he had a serious drug problem.

You sat in the room full of screens with Garcia, feeling absolutely like the most useless agent in the world. Of course all the progress had been made while you were asleep. You were hardly paying attention to what Morgan and Garcia were talking about when you heard Penlope’s signature “Oh my god,” and looked over to the screens.

For the past twenty four hours all you’d wanted was to see Spencer- but not like this. Never like this.

You gathered around the computers with the rest of the team, trying to keep your face as still as possible. You wanted so badly to be able to focus on what was going on- analyze the situation, the words, the background, in an effort to find out where Spencer was, but your mind couldn’t work. Not while watching this.

Then the feed cut- all the screens going blank- and any hope of finding evidence to rescue your husband was gone. You heard Morgan punch the door as he stormed out of the room. The sound brought you back to reality, and you followed him out of the room.

“Morgan,” you called to him, but he kept walking, all the way out onto the front porch and into the front yard. “Morgan!”

You and Morgan were both known to have hot heads when things got personal and rageful, but your emotions came out in loud and painful words; Morgan’s came out in kicking down doors and breaking down walls. You just stood and watched as he took a piece of wood that was laying in the yard and smashed it down on the ground, causing it to splinter into pieces. His back heaved with heavy breathing, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d be scared of him. But you did know better.

“Derek,” it was more gentle this time, and the other agent turned around to look at you. The fury and frustration now replaced with an expression of agony.

He walked up to you quietly, shaking his head just a bit. “How are you doing this, Rossi?”

You closed your eyes tight, and tears pricked at the corners. The pure pain in Morgan’s voice finally causing all the pent up emotion inside to come out. “I’m not,” you admitted.

Spencer had been in plenty of dangerous situations before- stuck in an ER with a known killer, on a train with a psychotic man with a gun, in a mansion with a bomb- but this was the first time he was somewhere completely alone. You trusted that Hotch and Elle and Morgan would help protect him.

But no one could protect him now.

Every feeling you had shoved inside came out at once, and you collapsed in a fit of sobs. Morgan caught you before you could hit the ground, pulling you so tight to his chest you almost couldn’t breath. You cried so hard it hurt- it hurt your head and your eyes and your chest and your heart. Morgan was whispering something to you, but you couldn’t hear him over the explosion of emotion you were experiencing.

When the dam gates closed and the tears stopped flowing, you gently pushed Morgan away and wiped your eyes. “I need to help get him home.”

“Then let’s bring him home.”

---

It felt strange that the team was inhabiting the house of a killer- eating at his table, using his bathrooms, sleeping on his couch- but sometimes to get in the mind of an unsub, you had to do strange things. One of those strange things was using his appliances, including his coffee maker. The entire team was running off caffeine, and you were no exception. Just as you turned the corner towards the kitchen, you heard voices, and paused.

“It’s funny,” JJ said. You didn’t think anything about this was funny. “I keep thinking, the one thing we need to crack this case is uh… well, Reid.”

You wanted to scream.

“Yeah,” Morgan responded quietly.

“You think Reid and I should have stayed together at the barn, don’t you?”

Everything in you wanted to walk into the room and confront JJ… tell her upfront that they should have stayed together and it was her fault that Spencer was missing. But you couldn’t move.

“JJ, go get some rest.” You could hear Morgan’s exhaustion… but you could also hear his anger.

“I can tell that’s what you’re thinking so-”

“I just wanna get Reid home safe.”

“But if I had his back like I was supposed to, he’d be here now.” The defense in JJ’s voice made your blood boil.

“JJ, what do you want from me?”

“I just… I want someone to tell me the truth!”

“The truth is one of you is here and one of you isn’t,” Morgan said, frustration coming through. “You gotta figure the rest out for yourself.” He walked toward where you were standing, just out of sight. When he saw you, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you with sympathy before walking away.

You walked into the kitchen, avoiding looking at JJ as you made your way to the coffee pot. It was empty. You stared at the pot as it brewed, then poured it into your empty mug, not bothering to wait until it was cool before taking a sip. Maybe if you burned your tongue you could keep yourself from saying rageful words. You went to leave the kitchen when-

“(Y/N)?” JJ said.

You shut your eyes tight for a moment and turned, looking at the blonde, but not saying anything.

“What?” You shook your head slightly, keeping your face as straight as possible.

“I-” JJ swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

You looked down and took a deep breath. “Don’t apologize to me.” You looked JJ dead in the eye, holding yourself in as much control as possible. “Apologize to Spencer.”

Without another word, you turned and left; not feeling any better, but not feeling any worse.

---

You continued working with Prentiss. Hotch and Gideon were working together- an oddity. But so was a member of the team getting kidnapped. There was a sudden sound of shock coming from the room filled with computers. You and Prentiss both shot up from your seats and quickly filed into the room where the rest of the team was staring at the screens.

Spencer’s chair had fallen over, and he laid on the floor, unmoving. You’d seen enough people who were sleeping, dead, or dying to know the difference, even on a screen. And Spencer was dead.

You’d had this nightmare before, and in every single one you instantly crumbled to the ground in a fit of sobs, fighting whoever tried to touch you or calm you down. In your nightmares, the grief was so overwhelming it robbed your body of air until your head was so light that you couldn’t think- as if your body’s survival response to such overwhelming sadness was to make it so you couldn’t think long enough to be sad at all.

But now that it was real, all you could do was stand there- eyes glued to the screen, mouth slightly agape, blood draining from your face. The feeling was impossibly numb. Your mind not processing anything, refusing to believe what you were seeing. There was no survival response to overwhelming sadness; because all the will you had to survive was gone.

You remembered a quote from Dante’s Inferno- the one book Spencer had ever made you read to him since the original was in Italian- “L’inferno e freddo”: Hell is cold.

And you were frozen.

“Guys.” You heard the voice, but your brain was still in a state of limbo. Only the sudden appearance of a man on the screen, giving Spencer CPR, was enough to snap your body from the frost.

And then Spencer was alive.

Your vision blurred as your eyes watered, relief filling your body. But it was only temporary. The next thing you knew, Hankle was speaking.

“Choose one to die.”

“What?” You weren’t sure if Spencer was still in shock from dying and coming back to life, or if he was truly asking.

“Your team members,” Hankle said. “Choose one to die.”

“Kill me,” the words came out of Spencer's mouth like a plea.

Spencer, no. Your chest tightened, your breathing taught. Just say a name, Spencer. Please don’t give yourself up to him.

“You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied,” Spencer said. It didn’t matter thought- the math worked somehow.

“The team has seven members. Tell me who dies.”

Just say a name, Spencer… any name.

“No.”

Hankle pulled Reid’s revolver from his pocket, pointing it straight at your husband’s forehead. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.” Hankle pulled the trigger. The chamber was empty. A tear streamed down your cheek.

“Choose.”

“I won’t do it,” Spencer’s voice was barely audible over the video feed.

Another trigger pull, another empty chamber.

“Life is a choice.”

“No.”

Choose to live, Spence.

Trigger. Empty chamber.

“Choose.”

“I…” This time Spencer was slower to answer. He was going to choose. He had to choose. If he didn’t, he was dead. “I choose Aaron Hotchner.”

The entire room seemed to become still with shock for a moment, before everyone turned to look at Hotch- you included. The expression on his face wasn’t hurt, or at least you didn’t think so. Hotch had been so avoidant of you the past 48 hours that you weren’t sure that you could read him in this situation. He continued to watch the screen, but you continued to look at his expression.

“He's a classic narcissist,” Reid explained Hotch’s sin. “He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team.”

The wheels turned in your head, and as Hotch furrowed his brow, you could see that the wheels were turning in his head as well. He left the room quickly, and you followed after him. Hotch grabbed the Bible sitting on the table, flipping through it rapidly. You didn’t ask why.

The rest of the team filtered into the room and Hotch looked up. “I’m not a narcissist,” he said. It wasn’t defensive. You’d seen Hotch defensive before, and it was nothing like this.

“Come on,” Gideon started. “Look, you can't think anything from that. He’s not in his right mind-”

“No, stop, stop,” Hotch cut Gideon off and looked around at the rest of the team. “All right, everybody right now- what's my worst quality?”

Silence.

None of you wanted to answer that question. 

“Okay, I’ll start,” Hotch said. “I have no sense of humor.”

“You’re a bully,” JJ said quietly.

“I’m a bully,” Hotch agreed.

“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes,” Morgan said, avoiding eye contact.

“Right.”

“You don't trust women as much as men,” Prentiss said boldly. You wondered how long she’d been wanting to say that.

Then Hotch turned to you, meeting your gaze for the first time since Spencer had gone missing.

“You avoid difficult emotions,” you told him. “Instead of confronting them.”

“Okay, good.” Hotch kept his eyes on you for a moment before turning back to everyone else. “I’m all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't, ever.” That was true. It always had been. “Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that, and he also quoted genesis, chapter 23, verse 4. Read it.”

JJ read the verse outloud. There was more discussion about narrowing down where Spencer might be. You hung onto every word, but you had just called Hotch out on something that you were doing yourself. You’d been burying yourself in work to avoid dealing with the terror and the pain that stirred inside you.

So instead of fighting to let you be in your normal point position when the team raided the cabin, you stayed at the back with JJ. Instead of avoiding her, you worked next to her in silence; both of you sharing a silent and desperate hope that Spencer was okay- that he was alive. When the team spread out, you stuck close to Prentiss, knowing you would need the support if something went awry and not being ashamed that, at the moment, you didn’t trust yourself to stay as steady as you needed to be.

And when Hotch helped Spencer to his feet, you let the tears stream down your cheeks. Holstering your gun, you let yourself go entirely- the relief crashing through your body. You breathed heavily, the cold air causing condensation to form. Morgan put a hand on your arm to keep you upright, and you let him.

You allowed the thoughts that had flooded your mind for the past two days to rise to the surface; that Morgan was probably the only other person in the world who shared what you were feeling right now- disappointment in Hotch for letting Reid and JJ go off in the middle of nowhere on their own, resentment about Gideon nearly getting Spencer killed, and rage at JJ because this never would have happened if one of you were with him instead.

“(Y/N),” Spencer’s voice as he said your name was barely a whisper, but to hear it in person made it real- it made everything real.

You pulled him into a hug, tears free flowing down your face. Spencer wrapped his arms around you tight, pulling you in so your bodies were as close as they could possibly be while standing upright. He buried his head in your shoulder. You leaned your face against the side of his head, pressing your cheek against his curls.

He let go of you slowly, as if you were the one thing keeping him tied to earth, your eyes locking only for a moment before Gideon walked over. You let Spencer lean on you, keeping his hurt foot off the ground.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Gideon said. “Come on.” Gideon went to support Spencer on the other side, helping him forward just a few steps before-

“Please.” Spencer looked at Gideon, but not at you. “Can I have a second alone?”

You looked at Spencer, but he didn’t look back at you, so instead you looked at your mentor. He gave Spencer a sympathetic look before locking eyes with you for just a second and walking away.

You let go of Spencer gently, your hands brushing before your bodies lost contact. He turned away without looking at you and began to limp towards Hankle’s body. You turned as well, looking over your shoulder as you walked. Prentiss was the one to help you this time- resting a gentle hand on your back to ground you.

You let her lead you back toward the SUVs, but you didn’t quite know where you were going; your mind was still full of Spencer. Then again, your mind was almost always full of Spencer- but not in this way. Never in this way.

“He’s going to be okay,” Emily said gently.

You let out a heavy breath. The clearing where the vehicles were parked was lit up by flashing colored lights. An ambulance had arrived, as had a coroner’s van. Officers were talking quietly, Hotch was pacing as he talked on the phone, JJ sat in the open trunk of an SUV staring out into the distance.

It was all over, but somehow you felt like things had only just began. 

“How do you know?” you asked her, breathing out as you did. It sounded helpless, but that was how you felt.

Emily put a hand on your shoulder, looking into your eyes. “Because,” she said- her voice was gentle, but her words were confident. “He has you.”

---

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taglist:

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[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking, light bondage, blindfolds

Summary: Even though you should be the belle of the Annual Top Gun Navy Ball, you're more of a brat and Jake enjoys every minute of the teasing and the consequences later.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 12

Word Count: 5.5k

Chapter 13: Belle or Brat?

Your Hallmark movie of a Thanksgiving trip to meet Jake's family ends Saturday at the Austin airport. Tom and Sharon have driven you and Jake to the airport and are giving you hugs and goodbyes on the curb.

Sharon is beaming when she goes to give you a hug,

"It has been so good to get to know you. I couldn't be happier that you and Jake found each other. We'll see you guys sooner than later. Take care, Elsa."

"Sharon, thank you for the wonderful time and being so welcoming. It was honestly one of the best holidays I've had in a long time."

Tom gives you a hug and you overhear Sharon talking to Jake as she hugs him goodbye.

"Love you, Jakey. Hold on to her," Sharon tells Jake.

"Love you too. I will, Mom. Don't worry."

The flight is uneventful and soon the plane is starting the intense descent into San Diego. You grab an Uber and head home, breathing in a sigh of relief as you unlocking your front door and step inside.

"Home sweet home," you say walking in. You look through the mail and think of the upcoming week. Nothing too insane for work and then the Navy Ball for the Top Gun team and a few other departments at North Island this coming Saturday.

When you and Jake had discussed it a few months ago you were unfamiliar with the concept of military ball.

"Have you ever been to one before?" you asked Jake.

"Yes, they're pretty standard throughout the Navy. I've never brought a date though. Seemed like a lot to ask someone I was only casual with. So, I'm excited to have you on my arm with me at this one."

"What am I supposed to wear?"

"Probably a fancy dress, evening gown thingy?"

You laughed,

"Very helpful."

"Cyclone said his wife would be available to take you and Lydia to a dress shop that's pretty good for these types of things."

"That'd be helpful, does Mrs. Cyclone have a name?"

Jake laughed and flipped through his phone,

"Maddie Simpson, I sent you her contact info."

–

The week before the ball flows along as expected, work is busy but not too much. The schematics for Darkstar 2.0 are getting finalized. Lydia and you meet Friday after work for pedicures and manicures to get all dolled up for the ball tomorrow. You select a light pink for your toes and a golden beige for your nails, keeping it subtle. You and Lydia chat and exchange info on what to expect tomorrow.

"Rooster said to be prepared for a whole bunch of speeches, so his advice was to hold off your bathroom break till the middle of those," Lydia reports.

"Jake mentioned there's a receiving line where we get to meet all the big wigs," you offer up your bit of intel.

"It sounds like a prom mashed with a wedding."

"Well, it sounds like this won't be the only one we attend."

She gets a dreamy look on her face, "Yeah, I think these guys are sticking around. Who'd of thought, me going after some random guy I thought was hot at the bar for a quick fuck would have ended us up here?"

"I'll salute your sluttiness, it paid off this time, you laugh and stick your tongue out at Lydia letting her know you're joking. You continue,

"You realize we're going to have to come up with some fake story to tell our kids of how we met their dads till they're old enough. Something about your Aunt Lydia thought your Uncle was hot and was curious of how big his cock was and then your mom completely humiliated your dad in front of his friends. Then they went to a baseball game and fell in love. I don't think that's going to be kid appropriate for a looong time."

Lydia is cracking up.

"How about we say we all met at a church picnic?!"

"Let's go with that."

"So you thinking the whole deal with Hangman? Marriage and kids?"

"I know we're on the marriage train, I asked him when we made all this official if that's where we were headed. Kids are more of a question mark. The way he was with his nieces in Texas was so freaking adorable. It was easy to imagine him as a dad and for like the first time ever I felt my biological clock. Like I felt I needed to give him babies."

Lydia is half laughing and half in shock.

"You are in deep, you'd be good parents."

"You and Rooster?"

She pauses,

"I think he's going to propose. Rooster's been a little weird lately. I keep walking in on him writing something and muttering something like 'That's not it'. And he's been a little cagey like he's planning something."

"Is it a problem if he proposes?"

"I don't think so. It does feel a little soon."

"Would you say yes?"

"Yes, of course I would."

"Then don't worry about it."

"You're right."

At that moment your nail technicians let you know you're done. You walk out doing your best to keep your nails smudge free. Waving your goodbyes to Lydia you promise to see her tomorrow at the ball.

Jake and you have a quiet evening in and an easy Saturday morning, not doing too much knowing you have a big event tonight.

The cocktail hour starts at 5 pm so you're ready by 4:30 and walk out to meet Jake in the living room. He is sitting on the couch fiddling with his phone and he stands up when he hears you on the wood floor. You are treated to a look of surprise and utter adoration from Jake.

"Oh El, you look gorgeous," he declares and

You do a little twirl around showing him the full look.

Your dress is a dark navy one shoulder style mermaid style dress with a plunging back and strap across the back to hold it together. There is a slit down the side to help with movement. When you were picking out dresses with Lydia and Maddie Simpson this one stood out to you for the bare back. It was easy to imagine the feel of Jake's hand on your back.

He walks around the couch, eyeing you from head to toe.

"God, I'm not sure we're gonna make it there, you look so good."

He also looks extremely good in his dress uniform. It's his most formal one with a dinner jacket with tails, bowtie, and cumberbund. You hold back the girlish sigh on your lips on how unbelievably handsome he is.

"You keep your hands to yourself mister, this took a lot of work."

"Fine, fine, I'll take you out and show you off," he stands behind you and leans in as he brushes his hand up your back,

"I'll just have to wait to have my way with you, I can tell the way you're eyeing me you've got ideas too."

You let out a traitorous sigh,

"Maybe, but we should get going." Jake just chuckles and kisses your temple.

When you arrive you pick up a name tag at a table near the entrance that says, "Dr. Elsa Matthews, PhD, PE, Guest of Lieutenant Jake Seresin."

"Jake, you didn't have to put titles on my name tag," you chide him. He laughs,

"It's not to boost your ego, it's a tactical move to annoy one of my coworkers, Jenkins. He's convinced that there isn't a woman smart enough to have a PhD in aerospace engineering so I thought I'd pump up your credentials to mess with him."

"How mature," you respond. You make your way to the bar, get a drink, and prepare to mingle.

Jake sees Rooster and Lydia first, "Look there's Rooster and Lydia. Let's grab a table with them while we can."

You make your way over to Rooster and Lydia and greet them on the side of the giant room.

"Lydia, Rooster, you guys look great," you say giving them each a hug. Rooster gives the compliment back, at least to you,

"Elsa, you look stunning. Hangman, you look adequate."

Jake just laughs,

"I'm wearing the same thing you are, but I make this look good. I'd give you a solid C+."

Rooster opens his mouth to send another volley, but Lydia stops him,

"Let's grab a table so we can make sure we all sit together. I need Elsa as my emotional support animal to get through this."

You snag a table near the back and on the edge.

"Strategic," you say, "Makes bathroom breaks more subtle."

Jake leans in so only you can hear, "Or sneaking off to do other things." He winks as he leans out to join the conversation.

Rooster looks over your head and groans a little,

"Here comes Jenkins."

"The one who doesn't think women can be engineers?" you ask Jake.

"Yup."

A guy with black hair in a buzz cut and a pudgy face with a scraggly mustache appears with his date, a petite blond that looks like she could get blown away in a stiff wind.

"Hangman, so this is the infamous girlfriend, Elsa. I'm Paul" he says, grabbing your hand and kissing it in greeting,

"Enchanté."

You're shocked he would do that in front of his date/ girlfriend. Jake is rolling his eyes at the over the top gesture.

"Nice to meet you, Paul," you turn to his date, "and you too."

She responds,

"Sarah, his sister."

You feel slightly better that he's not a total sleazeball.

"Sarah, these are my coworkers, Hangman and Rooster. This is supposedly Hangman's smarty pants girlfriend," he leans uncomfortably close to your chest to read your name tag out loud verbatim,

"Dr. Elsa Matthews, PhD, PE."

Sarah and you nod at each other.

"What's the PE for?" Jenkins asks.

"Licensed Professional Engineer."

"So basically a nerd license?"

Jenkins laughs jarringly like a hyena looking around the group to see if anybody else is laughing. No one is.

"Yeah, something like that. So, Sarah, do you live in the area or are you visiting?" you ask, trying to divert the conversation to something more interesting. Jenkins isn't having it,

"Alright, if you're actually a doctor in aerospace engineering, tell me something smart."

"I didn't think this was going to turn into a job interview. You could just look at my LinkedIn page if you want to know all my professional accomplishments."

Jake smirks as he watches. Jenkins doesn't give up,

"Naw naw, Doc. Say something smart."

"Will telling you I have three parents for hypersonic aviation modular life support systems, out of a total of 22 patents, shut you up?"

Jake and Rooster are smiling into their drinks watching the conversation. You can tell they aren't particularly fond of Jenkins.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You don't have to be a show off. If you're so smart then why are you with Hangman? I'm on the market, baby."

Jake has snorted his beer through his nose and is coughing, Rooster pats him on the back. Rooster and Lydia are waiting for your next verbal volley like they're watching a tennis match.

"It's because he has a giant cock. Do I need to describe that in great detail so you understand, too?"

You respond with an accompanying hand gesture, slowly, like you're talking to a child, a particularly slow child with a bad mustache. Sarah hides a smile at her idiot brother. Rooster coughs into drink.

Jenkins barks out his hyena laugh,

"I like this one, Seresin!"

Sarah grabs her brother's shoulder and urges him to walk away. He looks over his shoulder as he turns,

"Hey baby, if you find you get bored with the Hangman and want to hang out with a hung man," he gestures obscenely to his crotch, making you gag a little,

"Give me a call, sweet cheeks."

Rooster calls out to Sarah,

"I'd keep him away from the bar for the rest of the night, just a word of advice."

You look at Jake,

"What the hell is wrong with him? And please tell me he doesn't fly a plane."

"Multiple things, probably dropped on his head as a child, many, many times," Jake responds,

"And no, thank God, he is not a pilot. He's in charge of aircraft parts, so a glorified inventory clerk."

"Please tell me that's your weirdest coworker," you plead with Jake and Rooster.

"Yes, everybody else is pretty normal." Jake answers.

You lean over to Jake,

"I'm not going to get you in trouble for that big cock comment, am I?"

Jake looks at you,

"Don't worry about it, the higher ups don't believe anything he says. I would probably recommend not saying that to Cyclone, it might be a bit of a weird conversation starter."

You laugh, the tension easing.

You and Jake circulate around and meet more of Jake's coworkers and the rest are pleasant and not obnoxious jackasses.

Soon dinner is served and the speeches start up. They feel a lot like corporate speeches but with more patriotism sprinkled in. You are definitely bored by the end of the first one. Maybe it is the champagne on an empty stomach, but you decide to mess with Jake a little bit. You slip your heel off and nudge Jake's pant leg with your foot making contact with the skin under the fabric. Jake's eyebrow raises and he gives you a slight smile as he realizes what you are doing. After a few minutes you put it back in your shoe.

At the next applause break, you pretend to fiddle with your earring and pop it off into your hand.

"Oh no, I think I just lost my earring," you say loud enough to catch Jake's attention,

"I think it fell off that way."

You point towards Jake's feet. You lean over to peek under the tablecloth and as you do you cup Jake's crotch. You know the view of your actions is obscured by the tablecloth and your body. You're rewarded with a quick breath in from Jake.

You emerge from the tablecloth holding your earring, stating,

"Found it," as you put it back on. Jake is staring at you more pointedly now, eyebrow raised in question.

You lean to whisper so only he can hear,

"I'll stop if you say stop. I won't do anything that would embarrass you, just want to rile you up for later."

You pull back to see his response and he leans back in to whisper into your ear.

"Just know you'll face the consequences later," he smirks.

It's your turn to get a little flush and give him a knowing smile. Another speech starts and you keep your hands to yourself for the entirety of the speech. At the end, you use the moment to excuse yourself to the bathroom. When you're in the stall you slide off the lacy thong you chose for tonight and ball it up in your hand. As you sit back down you sneak the underwear in Jake's pants pocket. His hand goes to investigate and the moment he recognizes that it is lacy fabric and his jaw clenches ever so slightly. He looks at you eyebrows raised and the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

The room darkens for a video on a screen up front. You use the opportunity to slide Jake's hand to the slit on your dress, that is conveniently on the side nearest him. You place your napkin over his hand to obscure the scene. His hand is on your skin and ever so slowly creeping around to your inner thigh, trying to flex his fingers up towards your pussy. The video ends and he discreetly pulls his hand back to clap, making eye contact with you the whole time.

The speeches are over and they announce that the dance floor is open. Jake stands up and extends his hand, "May I have this dance, El?"

The music is classical and you recognize it as a waltz. You're surprised when we get to the dance floor and Jake leads you in a perfect waltz.

"Should I add ballroom dancing to your list of many hidden talents?" you ask Jake as he gives you a twirl.

"Yes, among others. My mom insisted we learn to dance the classics. And how are you so well informed on ballroom dance techniques?"

"My mom made me go to cotillion. I remember all the dances and how to set a 36 inch place setting."

"What a useful skill in this day and age," he laughs.

After a few more classical dances, the music has changed to more contemporary pop and rock and roll making the dancing more informal. Lydia and Rooster make their way to you on the dance floor. The lighting has changed and the room is darker and by the DJ stand there are colored lights that change with the beat of the music. It feels like a high school prom with some of the music choices, and you have fun trying out cheesy moves mostly to make everyone else laugh.

The song switches to a song you recognize, Eric Clapton's Wonderful Tonight. Jake places one hand on your back on the bare skin and takes your hand in the other. You place your free hand on his shoulder and start to sway in time with the music. Jake is singing along just loud enough for you to hear and his deep voice reverberates through his chest against yours. You wonder if you can fall even more in love with him the way he's looking at you when the song ends.

Borrowing a lyric from the song, you say,

"It's time to go home now."

He laughs at your choice of words and lowers his head to tell you,

"Someone also needs to face the consequences of her actions, like putting her panties in my pocket so I know you're bare and there'd be nothing in my way."

You swallow hard and just dumbly nod, no coherent thoughts forming, Jake sees the look on your face and just smirks. You make our goodbyes to Lydia and Rooster and head out to the car.

You are barely buckled in when Jake's hand finds the slit in your dress. Pushing his hand up toward your pussy, he extends his fingers and just gently parts the folds around your clit, and then suddenly retreats his hand. You whine at the loss of contact.

"Does someone not like getting teased?" he laughs.

He leans over the console and puts a hand behind your head to catch your lips and mouth in a deep kiss that you feel all the way to your toes. He pulls back and starts the car, leaving you breathless and needy.

"El, you're lucky this is a stick or you'd be getting a lot more teasing on the drive home."

You are never happier that you live only 10 minutes from the base. Jake drives you home in what feels like a deliberately slower manner. You finally break,

"Jake, I need you inside me as soon as possible."

"Ooh, you are hot and ready to go. This'll make what I have planned for you even better."

"What do you have planned, besides fucking me the instant we get inside the door?"

"Oh, so much more, sweetheart. Just you wait."

Mercifully, you arrive home. You feel like you are sprinting to get the door unlocked and Jake is taking his sweet time getting to the porch. You step inside and Jake follows. He pulls you back to his chest and starts to kiss a line down your neck. Jake guides you to the bedroom and unzips your dress leaving you completely naked. He pushes you onto the bed so you are sitting on the edge.

"You were a wretched little tease tonight," he grabs your chin and tilts it up to look at him, "I've been thinking of all the ways I could have you when we got back here."

His thumb rubs across your lower lip and you take it into your mouth and suck on it earning a low groan from him.

"Teases need to learn some lessons in patience," he purrs as his hand slides down to cup your breasts and pinch your nipple, ripping a ragged moan from you.

"Lay down and wait, I'll be right back," he looks at you and says with deadly seriousness, "Do not touch yourself. understand me?"

You nod in agreement. He leaves the room and you slip off your heels and lay down on the top of your bed.

He returns holding a small bowl and the belt from your silk robe. He puts the small bowl on the dresser and kneels next to the bed.

"El, I'm going to tie you to the bed and blindfold you. Are you okay with that?" He is searching your eyes for any hesitancy.

"I'm very okay with that," you practically purr.

He breaks into the panty dropper smile and says,

"Good, we can stop this at any time, just say red light."

He is referencing the system you agreed upon for communicating in bed.

"Sounds good, green light."

He lifts your hands up above your head and the cool softness of the silk robe belt encircling your wrists and the fabric tightens as he ties it to the headboard. You flex your arms and find that you can't move them far. Jake is now standing next to the bed staring at you. He has pulled his dinner jacket off and thrown it over the back of the armchair in the corner, the medals clinking as it lands. Next he pulls off the cumberbund and sends it over to join the jacket. He unties his bow tie, throwing it down to the bed next to you and unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt. His next move is classically sexy and makes you press your thighs together to get some kind of friction. He pulls his cufflinks out and puts them on top of the dresser next to him and then he methodically rolls his sleeves up revealing his tanned and muscular forearms.

"Enjoying the show, El?" he laughs.

"Very much," you breathe more than speak.

"Good," he says as he sits down on the bed taking the bow tie in his hand and he ties it gently around your head pulling the fabric to cover your eyes.

You take a deep breath and relax into the bed.

"Good, El?"

"Very good, Jake."

The first thing you feel is Jake's hands sweeping up your legs and just skimming the inside of your thighs short circuiting your brain. You try to thrust your pelvis towards his hands and he evades your motions and continues up your body. You whine out a little pout. Jake just laughs. His hands move along to cup your breasts, just pinching at the nipple to a firm point before he leans down to kiss them. He pulls back and you are lost without any contact from him.

The bed dips around your waist and the crisp fabric of his dress pants stretches across your thighs as he straddles you. You are unsure what his next move will be until the cool metal of his dog tags fall on your chest, eliciting a squeak from you. He huffs out a little laugh.

Jake leans down and holds his lips just above yours, the heat from his mouth apparent on your lips as he talks,

"Sweet, sweet, El. Who knew you were such cock tease and so naughty."

He traces a finger down your cheek and across your lips as he talks. You try to lift your head to kiss his lips and he pulls away before you make contact. Your head falls to the bed in defeat and then Jake is kissing you hard, tongue invading your mouth. He pulls away and you lift your head to chase his lips for more, earning another soft and teasing laugh from him.

Jaken kisses a line down your jaw and neck, continuing his path down your chest and finally settling his lips just under your left breast. The feeling from his lips intensifies and he sucks a bruise there, the slight pain from the blood vessels breaking blissfully radiating out. You're so tightly wound that anything, any feeling, pain or pleasure, soothes you. You moan loudly at that thought. He pulls off and gently kisses the sensitive area.

Ghosting his lips down your stomach he swerves at the last second avoiding your very wet and very needy pussy. You whine out in frustration, and plead to him,

"That's where I need it, please, Jake."

"Are we frustrated, El?"

"Yes, please, please touch me. Anything." you plead, sounding a bit desperate.

"It's okay, El. I'll take care of you," Jake coos reassuringly. The bed springs up and the weight of Jake is gone leaving you a little unmoored. Sounds you can't identify filter over from the far side of the room and suddenly you are overwhelmed by a cold burst of wetness on your nipples, they pebble and firm up instantly. An undignified yelp escapes your mouth with a

"What was that?"

"Ice," Jake laughs as he settles in the bed, and you can practically hear his smirk. He resumes his position over you and his cold lips trail down your torso and engulf your clit with no warning. You respond by squealing a mix of pleasure and pain and lifting your hips as far off the bed as possible, unsure if you want to retreat or want more.

"You are so much fun to tease. So responsive and sensitive," Jake says as he pulls back.

"Not fair, I need you, Jake," you respond, emphasizing the word need. He returns his cold mouth to your clit and begins to lick it fast and hard. Two fingers into you without any resistance and join his tongue in his fast rhythm. It doesn't take long for his mouth to warm up and push you to the edge of climax.

You are a moaning mess, and all you can sob out is,

"So close, so close, don't stop."

He pulls his face back and keeps his fingers in you at the same intense pace.

"You don't get to come till I let you, El."

If it was possible that statement would have made you even wetter. It's not helping how turned on you are. He plants his mouth hard on your clit and keeps licking.

"Please, can I come?"

Your begging question fills the air. "Please?" You ask again. You are so close that you know Jake can feel your walls fluttering around his fingers. Every second you're kept waiting is an exquisite mix of overwhelming bliss and the pain of almost coming.

Abruptly Jake pulls back everything. His mouth and hands are gone and your hips lift to chase him.

"What the fuck, Jake?"

You try to sound more indignant than needy. He just laughs as an answer. The bed shifts as Jake stands up. The sound of his clothes hitting the floor is followed by the ties at your wrists being undone.

The bed dips and Jake flips you over with the ease that only he can achieve. You are still blindfolded and unsure of his next move. He grips your hips and pulls your ass up as he gently pushes your head down to the bed. Your knees are being pushed apart with his knee and his hard cock brushes against your thighs enticingly. He is so achingly close to tight where you need him.

Finally, he takes pity on you and runs the head of his cock through your glistening folds.

"You ready, El?" he asks, still teasing your slit.

You practically shout,

"Yes, please fuck me, please."

"So needy, the tease doesn't like to be teased?"

He is laughing as he kisses down your spine.

You reach a hand back to try and touch yourself for some relief and you are treated to a stinging slap on your ass. You bite your lip to keep the moan it pulls out of you in, not wanting to give Jake the satisfaction right now, not when he's teasing you so mercilessly.

"Do I have to tie you up again? You'll come when I tell you, El."

Your whine in response is pure lust and absolute need,

"No, sir. Please fuck me, I need you."

He obliges and plunges in without any more warning or teasing. You almost come before he has bottomed out. With how hard you're gripping the comforter in your hands holding 9ff your orgasm, you're slightly afraid you're going to rip holes in the fabric, not that any part of your brain can be bothered to care. Each of Jake's thrusts pulls out a moan that sounds more like of a sob of relief than of pleasure. Jake pulls all the way back out and for a second you are lost. He pushes back in and starts to fuck you slowly. You try to speed up his thrusts by pushing back your body.

He laughs and grips your hips hard to still you, the thought that he might leave bruises makes you clench around him,

"Remember, who's in charge here?"

You don't respond and feel another harsh slap on the other cheek of your ass. This time you can't help the moan and accompanying clench of your pussy on his cock.

"Answer me, El."

"You are, Lieutenant," is all you can choke out, your need to come overwhelming you. The word triggers something in Jake and he is now fucking you at a relentless pace. His body is starting to tense, a sign he is getting close to the edge; he mercifully slips his hand down to touch your clit. You are right back at that edge of ecstasy within seconds and you hear yourself begging again,

"Please, can I come? Lieutenant? Please?"

His body stutters and you know he is close. Through gritted teeth, he says,

"Come around my cock baby, I want to feel how much you need it."

That is all the encouragement you need. You shatter around him clenching hard. The orgasm is so overwhelming that if you hadn't had the blindfold on still the room would have grayed out.

Your head thunks down to the soft mattress as the pleasure rolls over you, Jake thrusts a few more times to chase his release, his hands gripping at your hips hard to keep you from moving up the bed.

"Fuck, El, gonna come, gonna fill you up," he grits out. You are still in the throes of your climax that you are almost too out of it to say anything.

"Please, Jake, give it to me. I've been good, please," you rasp. He comes with a mighty roar and bends down, his chest against your back as he catches his breath, one hand planted on the bed to support his weight, the other rubbing soothing circles on your side.

He reaches down to your shoulder and pulls you up to his chest tilting your head to kiss you sweetly, a contrast to the intensity of a few minutes ago. Jake pulls the blindfold off and slowly pulls out of you. He gently lowers you to the bed and lays down next to you pulling you into his arms. Your head settles on his chest as you both come down from your mutual high. After a few minutes Jake kisses your forehead tenderly.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes, way better than okay, in fact great," you respond. He laughs at your effusive gushing and his lips are on your forehead again. You roll over to your stomach so you can see his face.

"That's definitely been a fantasy of mine, never really trusted anyone enough to let go of that control," you tell him as you trace idle circles on his chest with your index finger.

"I remembered from one of your trips to Bakersfield. Did it live up to your expectations?" he asks.

"Not that this is a Yelp review or anything, but 5/5 greatly exceeded my expectations. Would have sex like this again."

You're rewarded with one of Jake's deep laughs,

"How am I supposed to keep my ego in check if you're telling me that kind of stuff?"

"You earned it, stud." you yawn, aware of how late it is.

"Is Cinderella out past midnight?" Jake teases.

"Yes, and she is quickly turning into a pumpkin. I'm going to wash all this makeup off and then I'm going to cuddle up to my handsome stud of a boyfriend and fall asleep."

"Sounds excellent," Jake yawns back in agreement. You head to the bathroom and when you return Jake is already asleep. You turn off the lights and slide into bed and lay your head on his chest before sleep overtakes you.

--

Up next: Elsa's family comes to town for Christmas and it's not all hot chocolate and hugs...*foreshadowing*.

Chapter 14

@kmc1989

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mayhemmanaged

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

@memoriesat30

@midnightmagpiemama

@mygyn

[kickthecan-revolution]

Last week was a lot. I told my team that I was leaving for another experience. They are sad and processing but also very happy for me. We cried a little at the end of the meeting. The initial support structure I had in place was OK but a few parts were confusing/concerning so I adjusted those and I think they feel better. My boss isn't sure where they will officially report into yet but I just made the call and confirmed who their direct manager will be. I've let all of my partners across the company know which has been weird, but OK.

The work in the new role is SO intense, I'm learning everything as fast as I can but also have to apply new learns to what I really don't understand yet to a plan that has to be localized into multiple languages by next week. It's nuts but there's no option not to do it, so I'm working a lot this weekend. I was experiencing such a confidence crisis but a few meetings on Friday validated I am moving in the right direction. For the first time in so long, I had anxiety dreams about work which in a weird way is a good sign - I was just kind of....dead, going through the motions, not super busy, not really caring about anything. My brain is waking up. It's where I am at my best. There will be a time for another way of moving through the world but right now for this next year/last experience, I want to be driving something hard and seeing the impact. I want to push myself to take risks and not be an invisible middle manager. Shirley said that I am like a little joey (baby kangaroo) - I am mostly comfortable living my emotions through animals and I have a tendency of hiding like a little joey. I already see this job will make me deal with conflict, stand in the strength of my opinion instead of being accommodating and malleable, afraid of making someone upset. There's such personal growth here for me.

The Alki remodel continues to provide a number of surprises. After we found so many concerns in the electric wiring in the lower unit, I asked the contractor to have the electrician check the upper unit as well. He couldn't even do much given the electrical panel is over 30 years old, so I had it replaced. We also repaired some cracks in the roof and an HVAC person is coming out to assess what I should do to upgrade the 30 year furnace. It's a lot but I am comforted to know these upgrades will make everything so much stronger and safer, I'm much more confident in renting it now. Another fun thing, the contractor found an outdoor shower on the side of the house so we're going to replace it with this and create a little area with a sauna, so someone can do a cold plunge in the ocean, and then wash off in the shower and take a sauna. It's actually not expensive and the contractor can build it for us. I'm excited!

Health-wise, I signed up for a service that will make it easier for me to get the updates to my health that I need. I got 16 vials of blood taken on Friday for a number of tests - a full panel including a lot of early detection stuff.

This is going to be such a good year. It already is. I trust it. I trust that good things are here, that I deserve them and I am going to meet every moment with new strength, new capability and create more silence so those that are guiding me can be heard even more clearly.

[roleplayhonestybox]

Just some time to whine - and no, it's not that I don't understand, I do - but I just feel so frustrated and disappointed now I could cry. So here's my totally first world problem rant: My RP partner says they have finally a long weekend due to the holiday - Thursday to Sunday - and they are looking forward to write aaaaaaall four days. They make it a really big thing and talk about it and are excited. They wanna write ALL day. EVERY day. AAALL the stuff they'll be writing. Because they can't really do asymmetrical and I always need to be around for them to write. Which is fine. I can do that. Life's rough, I understand. They are American. I am not. I'm European with a hefty time difference and a full work week. So I shovel Friday completely free - cancel all appointments - and even a chunk of my Thursday work day. I can't just take them off - I need to stuff the work I would have done on Friday and that chunk from Thursday and work it off on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Which made my days extremely long and exhausting, but I thought: hey, it's for a good cause! We're going to write like the devil. All day. Every day. Thursday comes, I rush out of work, it all starts wonderfully. We're both excited. Then a problem comes up. Family stuff. Understandable. We spend the night chatting. One things leads to another, the topic gets really dark. I try to be a good friend. I try to help. I stay up until 9am in my time zone. I really don't sleep a lot that night. Friday comes, and they're exhausted. They're tired. They sleep most of the time of the day I took off for us. So we could write, like they wanted to. Saturday comes. They said they'd be around nice and early. I'm around nice and early. They aren't. They were tired and went back to sleep (and couldn't even let me know with a short message - knowing that I was waiting). The RP drags on and I spend the day waiting and waiting - for literal hours.

Sunday comes. Same spiel. They are tired. They have kids to watch. They need a nap. They need to cook.

In the end, I got one or two replies per day for the threads I got to choose. Each day, but, yeah, with me being around for roughly 15 hours for them each day, too. There are a few more replies for the quick things they wanted to do and their favourite is something I absolutely struggled through because I wanted to make them happy, but my heart's really not in it. But I want to be a good RP partner. I want to be a good friend.

So, yes, I understand. Family and real life first. There's no lack of understanding. It's a hobby. Nobody can change how tired they are. Nobody can influence when life fucks with plans. I understand. I am not blaming them. I am not trying to be difficult. I'm not a bitch about it.

But this whole thing I worked for so hard to make it even happen turned out to be such a fucking disappointment and full of frustration that I honestly just want to cry. It just fell so flat I don't even have words for it. No word again that I cancelled everything to be with them, but maybe they don't even realise or remember, because they slept half the time.

(Also: no, I'm normally not the one to expect several replies every day. They can't RP on workdays? Fine. They need time to go through stuff? Fine. They get sick and can't write? absolutely no problem, of course. They stopped replying to so many threads in the past and I've been waiting for weeks or months sometimes, so that's not my problem here. But when we make arrangements to sit together for the sole purpose of writing all day and I clear my schedule for three and a half days - it frustrates me when I sit around and wait for hours for a single reply - just to clarify.)

So with all due respect and necessary understanding - I know they didn't choose this - I'm just so angry, too. Not at them. But that this didn't work out, at all. And I can't even show it because it would hurt them, because I know they were just exhausted and tired and it's not their fault - and I don't want that.

Goddamn, I was looking forward to this so much and I feel so hollow right now, because I spent most of these past three and a half days waiting for them... I feel like I could have done more productive things in three days that would have made me feel much better.

I need a hug...

(sorry for the rant...)

.

[12timetraveler]

Something In The Orange

Chapter 12

Summary:

The Matthews family take you and Charles to their cabin in Big Valley for a winter vacation.

Notes:

Y'all I am SO SORRY for how long this chapter has taken.

I hit some major burnout over the last few months. So much so that I've actually been put on short-term disability leave from work. I'm starting to feel a bit better and I've been able to do more writing, but I'm still pretty worn out if I'm honest.

As always, this chapter was written entirely on my phone, so any weird typos, autocorrect words, etc you can blame on my phone haha.

Anyway I hope I haven't lost all of you who've been here since the beginning.

As always below is a little preview. Read the whole chapter and the entire work (so far) on AO3

Reminder: You must be logged in to an AO3 account to read my works as I've had to lock them down to protect from AI Scraping.

~~~~~~

You couldn't help but smile as you examined the three pins on your Christmas stocking. Three Christmas seasons with the Matthews family, each marked with a little pin. The silver horse-drawn sleigh from the first year. Then a little mouse sleeping next to a piece of cheese with a bow from the second year. And this year was a cowgirl boot and hat dusted in snow.

Christmas was a month ago, of course. Hosea hadn't had time to take down the stockings. Or all the lights. Or the menorah. But you were actually kind of glad about that. It was nice to see the cheerful sight, even in late January.

Going back to campus after the winter holidays this year had been awful. You tried your best to be a good student, to get excited for your classes and get right back into studying. But you found your thoughts drifting more and more to your beloved. Wondering what he was doing. Missing his sweet voice, his herbal scent, his long cock. It had been torture.

Monday was a bank holiday, meaning the high schools and the universities had a three-day weekend. So Friday afternoon you and Arthur drove up to Firwood Rise to pick up Hosea, John, and the horses to go on a little weekend trip. The plan was to go out to a cabin Hosea and Dutch shared out in Big Valley, West Elizabeth.

Aside from a couple ranches, it was still mostly wild, and even in the winter the trail rides were unforgettable. Or so Arthur said. This was your first expedition with the Matthews men out to this cabin. You'd never been to Big Valley, but it was legendary for the beautiful, natural scenery.

Charles was going to meet you at the cabin early Saturday morning, since he had a late class on Friday. His old beat-up truck was a beast when it came to snowy mountain roads, so you weren't worried. And then the lot of you would spend the weekend trail riding, maybe doing some snow sports, just having a good time.

So that's how you found yourself standing in the Matthews living room, smiling at the stockings while the others loaded up the truck. You could hear John and Arthur yelling out in the yard as John backed the truck up to the horse trailer to hitch up. Occasionally Hosea's voice would cut in if the two got too close to an argument as John insisted he could do it while Arthur was adamant he was doing it wrong. Typical of the two brothers.

You heard the truck turn off, and the driver door open. “Told you I had it covered,” John's voice echoed just loud enough that you could hear from inside. You couldn't make out Arthur's retort, but based on the way John began to snap back, only to be cut off by Hosea’s sharp scolding, you could only imagine it was more brotherly banter.

The door opened a moment later. “Those boys,” Hosea tutted, stepping into the house, looking a little irritated, cheeks rosy from the cold. His face softened when he spotted you, and he shut the door behind him, glancing out the window to make sure John and Arthur weren't near before stepping toward you and pulling you into his arms.

“Hey,” you murmured, tilting your head up expectantly.

“Hi,” he whispered before granting your request for a kiss. “I've missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You nuzzled against his chest, the fabric of his jacket cold from the winter chill, but the warmth of him underneath still seeping through.

“The boys are loading up the horses and then we'll be good to go.” Hosea hummed.

“Okay,” you said, stepping back. “Before we go, I need your help with something.”

“Oh?” He asked. You jerked your head towards the stairs, gesturing for him to follow you. Once upstairs you led him to the bathroom, pulling him in and locking the door behind you.

“Dove, it'll only take a few minutes for the boys to get the horses loaded.” Hosea chuckled, immediately clocking what your intentions were.

“Five horses. It'll take them at least ten minutes right? Probably more.” You mumbled, guiding him backwards until he was pinned between you and the sink.

“Something like that,” he sighed as your hands settled on his waist. “The horses are all pretty good at loading.”

“That's enough time for what I have planned.”

[lucy90712]

Hihi its me again could you do gavi x f1 driver where the reader is one the youngest f1 drivers

A/n: thank you for this request I enjoyed writing it as I like formula 1 too 

wc: 2.0k+

Racing as been a passion of mine since I was little it first started when I went to watch my brother train on a motorbike as thats what he enjoyed. While there I saw people on go karts and instantly wanted to try so my parents got me one and from that day on I have been racing. I worked my way through the ranks in go karts before getting into single seater cars and then to the formula one paddock when I got a seat in f3. Everything happened so quickly but after winning in my rookie season in both f3 and f2 I have finally made it to the top flight of racing formula 1 which is a dream come true. 

Of course there has been criticism of me and the team for giving me a seat but overall so far it’s been a great experience. The first few races were really difficult as the car is very different to anything I've ever driven before but slowly overtime I have been improving and getting more confident in the car. A lot of the places we have been racing in I haven't been too familiar with but once we started racing in Europe I got a bit better and now we are going to a track that I have spent my life at the circuit de Barcelona Catalunya I am hoping for a really good result. Not only do I want a good result just to show that I'm improving but I also want to do well because my boyfriend is coming to watch me race for the first time. He is a footballer with Barcelona so is always busy during race weekends which means he has never been to one of my races in a proper championship but finally he has a weekend free which just happened to fall on the week we are in Barcelona. 

For weeks I've been looking forward to Pablo coming to watch me race so now that the weekend is finally here I'm just so ready to get in the car. Sadly Pablo couldn't come for Friday practice so we have already done two practice sessions although they went really well and I have been fast in both sessions. Today he is coming with me though which has had me so excited that I barely got any sleep but I did managed to fall asleep eventually after telling myself that time would go by faster if I slept. Eventually my alarm went off and I got ready in record time which meant I had to wait for Pablo to arrive at the hotel all drivers were made to stay at so that we could go to the paddock together. 

Eventually there was a knock on my hotel room door so I ran to open it and before he could come into the room I had my arms wrapped around Pablo because we haven't seen each other in a while as I've been so busy with racing. Luckily he arrived a few minutes before we needed to leave so we got some time to greet each other and talk a bit as we probably won't get much time together once at the track. I told him everything he would need to know before we left like what time every session was and where everything was even though I'll give him a quick tour when we arrive. He seemed really excited but I could tell that there was something he wasn't telling me so I tried to get it out of him. 

"What's going through your mind?" I asked 

"Nothing I'm just looking forward to watching you out there" he said 

"I know there is something you aren't telling me Pablo just tell me whats wrong and I can help" I said 

"I'm just a bit nervous I've seen what it can be like going into the paddock and I know I deal with it before games but for some reason this just makes me more nervous" he admitted 

"Thats ok you can be nervous I still get nervous going to your games but I will be there the whole time and we can always walk to the garage quickly" I said 

"Thank you love" he said 

After that we had to leave so we got in the car that would be taking us to the track even though its only a short distance away we are made to go by car. As the car entered the track there was a lot of fans waiting and filming as we went past which I've got used to but I know Pablo hasn't experienced it before so I made sure to grab his hand to let him know I was there. Once the car was parked Pablo let go of my hand and ran around to the other side of the car to open my door for me which made me laugh because he always has to open my door no matter what. Before we walked in I made sure we took a minute in the car park just to make sure he was ready and secretly I had to calm myself down as I was nervous about what would happen when I walked in with Pablo. 

As we got to the entrance to the paddock there was people waiting like always so I went and took pictures and signed things but I always made sure to keep Pablo by my side if I couldn't be holding his hand. I love to talk to fans but today I wanted to make sure I didn't spend too long out there so I only signed a few things before heading into the actual paddock. Even once inside there was people taking pictures and trying to ask me questions but I just kept walking until we made it inside the team hospitality and my driver room. I expected Pablo look a bit overwhelmed but he had the biggest smile on his face before he launched into telling me how much he loved seeing people excited to see me and how they completely ignored him like he was no one and only cared about me. It was so heartwarming seeing him get so excited about watching me interact with fans because he always feels so bad whenever we go anywhere together and people want to talk to him but ignore me so for the opposite to happen isn't normal. 

The next few hours were incredibly busy with practice and then preparing for qualifying but it was all completely worth it as I managed to get p2 which is the best I've done in qualifying all season. Afterwards I was dragged off to do interviews but as soon as I was done I ran back to the garage to find Pablo who was waiting for me just outside. Without really thinking I jumped straight into his arms and we celebrated together. I think he was more excited than I was but that just made it all so much better because I wanted to show him what I could do and I feel like so far I've done that. 

~~~~~~~~~~

After yesterdays qualifying I have been on a high for most of the day but as the clock has been ticking down to the start of the race the nerves have been creeping in. I always get somewhat nervous before a race but today I'm even more nervous because I'm starting from p2 and so there is a higher expectation of a good result. Having Pablo here is also making me more nervous because I want to do well for him which is silly as I know he will be happy no matter how I do but I still keep putting the extra pressure on myself. We have already had our team meeting this morning and they are confident that we can fight for the win as long as we get the strategy right but sometimes they do get it wrong so that has me worrying too. 

With the race being in under an hour I already have my race suit on and am just sitting in my driver room trying to keep calm. Pablo left to go and do something so I've been sat on my own for a while which hasn't been helping. Just as I was getting myself really worked up the door opened and Pablo came back in holding something behind his back. Instantly it perked my interest as he had a smirk on his face as well which can be scary when it comes to Pablo depending on his mood. Luckily he didn't make me wait too long as pretty quickly he whipped out a hat with my number on it and put it on with a big smile on his face waiting to see my reaction. I loved it but I couldn't make myself smile too much as I was still worried about the race. 

"What's wrong do you not like the hat?" He asked 

"No I love it I'm just really nervous for the race" I said

"There's no need to be nervous you have been doing so well all weekend you will do amazing" he reassured me 

"But there is so much that could go wrong the team say we need the right strategy to win and you've seen what the strategy can be like sometimes I might be fine but what about everything else" I pointed out 

"Don't worry about it all you can do is drive to the best of your ability if you don’t get a good result it just wasn't meant to be and you will do it next time and before you say it I don't care how you do I just want to see you out there" he said before giving me a kiss 

"Thank you Pablo you always know what to say" I said 

Before I knew it I had to get in the car and then I was lined up on the grid with the lights about to go off. For some reason seeing the lights settled my mind and I got in the zone like I do for every other race. Once the lights were out I just went for it and had the best start of my life ending up in first before even getting to turn 1. The rest of the race was much the same I was racing really well and putting down really good times each lap which kept a healthy distance to the car behind. By some miracle the strategy worked out and we had two really good pit stops which gave me the best chance of winning. When the last lap came around I was in first with enough of a gap behind that I didn't have to worry about losing position so I just got to take it all in and really enjoy my first win. 

After crossing the line I was instantly screaming down the radio and thanking the team before pulling down pit lane and stopping the car. Everyone was waiting for me to get out the car so I got out as quick as I could and jumped into the crowd to celebrate with them all. When the team put me down I took my helmet off and went straight to Pablo who was stood off to the side. He brought me into his arms and hugged me so tightly my feet came off the ground. When we pulled away he gave me a few kisses before telling me how proud he was and how well I drove which was nice to hear as sometimes I doubt myself. Once I let go of him I headed to the podium and the whole time I was just looking down at Pablo smiling as he filmed the whole thing like a proud mum. 

I had a lot of media to do but eventually I was done and met back up with Pablo to head back to his place to spend the night together as I don't have to be in the hotel anymore. When we arrived I went and flopped straight on the sofa where Pablo joined me and wouldn’t stop telling me how much he enjoyed the race until we both went to sleep a few hours later. 

[vikygoestheextramile]

I had a slip up.

Well, I don't know that this is exactly the term for it, but I had successfully been using a daily routine to keep my efforts on track for about two weeks. So, last Thursday my routine was disrupted, as it was a sort of holiday here in Greece, the point of which is "Eat all the meat in sight before the 40day lent starts!". Of course, almost no one is doing lent for 40 days after it, but almost everyone consumes meat like it's the last time they get to. 😅 More of an eating tradition than a holiday at this point, and boy, do we get many of those in Greece!

Despite everything, I didn't overeat that day, I think everything was under control, but we did spend the night at my family home, with my partner. And guess what? You can't really perform your daily routine if you're not in your space! So I couldn't do my morning yoga, which I had been doing for 15 days straight. I thought, well, it doesn't matter, and I grabbed the opportunity to go on a hike, on a nearby mountain. It was about a 3 hour walk, and I absolutely loved every moment of it.

So after all this, I thought eating just a bit more yesterday, was okay, missing morning yoga, missing the gym that day, was okay.

But this little slip up gave me an opportunity to stretch the imperfect day, to a couple of days, and then to 3 or 4!

My partner, right now he seems to be even more prone to junk food than I am, so it makes it a bit harder for me to resist, when he doesn't, or when he invites it in. But, luckily, this only lasted 4 or 5 days. We both felt that we didn't need to be in that mental space that consuming junk food was creating for us, even if you exclude the reaction of the body completely.

But, unfortunately for my routine, on Monday I started an acting seminar. It's going great, and I'm really excited about it, BUT in terms of holding on to the routine, it's not helping, as it involves a commitment of 5 hours a day, 10am to 3pm, Monday through Friday, plus the extra work we need to put in at home, which is A LOT.

When I expressed my concerns to my therapist, about losing my routine when I start the 3-week seminar, she told me that I should focus on holding on to one or two components of my routine, and not try to do the whole thing, or, on the flipside, just completely cut it out until the course is finished.

So, these two elements combined led to me losing progress, as I gained 0,8kg, but most importantly, I lost control of my day-to-day, for the entirety of this past week. I just went through the motions, nothing more.

Today, a Saturday with no class, and, as I've been trying to get back on the horse, before it bolts into the woods and I can never find it again, I made a move.

I got up, I made my bed, I put my workout clothes on, and I rolled out the mat. And I went on youtube and I did the next practice of the 30-day Yoga Journey I'm taking, which is the one below. "Reset". And sweet Adriene, the instructor, said at the start of the video: "Today we take the opportunity to celebrate that we're halfway through the journey", which on its own made me smile, as I felt a sense of achievement for actually having done the first two weeks of the journey, even if they were before the slip-up, it was all the more reason to remember that this, all of it, it's something that I can do, but she went on to say "and we also take the opportunity to hit the reset button", and I teared up. I was resetting on my own anyway, and not exactly by choice, but I felt not alone, I felt like she was giving me an opportunity for a fresh start, although it doesn't need to be that, it only needs to be an invitation to continue where we left off, and that it was, as my body was fully able to answer the call. Nothing was gone, and it was all there.

So, I guess, onwards (and upwards) we go!

Home - Day 15 - Reset | 30 Days of Yoga

[dreamgirlsclipscom]

Laura’s Sweaty Feet Challenge - (Full HD 1080p Version)    

Laura is a very pretty little 18 year old dreamgirl, and I must say that the first time I saw her really impressed me! I didn't think she could be so dominant, but she really had fun making fun of me! She told me that she really enjoyed treating me like a good little submissive slave, and that she would really like to do that again soon! She also told me that it really turned her on to see me sniffing and licking her feet, after she had worn the same socks for so long! She asked me if it was possible to do it again, and told me that this time, she would wear her socks even longer before seeing me, in order to humiliate me even more! I have to say that it scared me a little, because her feet stank so much the first time I saw her! This time, she had worn the same white socks for over ten days, and challenged me to let her watch a two-hour movie on Netflix, but with her stinky feet directly in my face. I really didn't want to disappoint her, so I told her that I would happily accept this challenge! The most difficult thing will certainly be to have an erection for more than two hours like that, which she will feel sliding between her pretty little thighs, but I am sure that she will appreciate feeling the effect and all the power that her pretty feet have on me! She controls me to the highest degree!

Laura arrived at my home on a Friday evening, after spending the whole day walking and working in her warm boots, and the first thing she said to me when she arrived was that she couldn't wait to take them off! She was very impatient to finally be able to relax after her long day of work, and to watch her movie, so we immediately positioned ourselves on the couch, so that she would be comfortable after her long walk in her boots. Laura reminded me again the length of the movie she was planning to watch, before asking me to take off her boots, and cover my face with her two feet in stinky white socks! Her white socks were super warm, very sweaty, and the smell was quite intense too! I could really feel that she had worn them to the fullest! Laura made me take some deep breaths in her dirty socks, and the smell of her socks made me so hard! My member was very hard, sliding gently between her thighs, and I'm sure she felt it immediately! She made me smell her dirty socks, and also asked me to lick them clean! At one point, my cock was so hard, that Laura slowly lowered her foot, placed her foot on my very hard cock, and started masturbating me through my pants! I felt her so in control, and I felt so helpless! She has total control over me, and she really seems to like it!

Laura was getting a little hot feet after watching more than half of her movie, so she asked me to take her dirty socks off with my teeth, and pushed them into her mouth with her toes. She then covered my face again with her two stinky feet, so I now had to sniff her feet, on top of having to clean her two dirty socks in my mouth! Laura made me take deep breaths once again in her two warm feet, before asking me to lick her feet! It was so humiliating, because I was so hard! She excited me to no end! Laura also took pleasure in making me suck her little toes, one by one, and she again slid her foot very gently towards my very hard penis! She started masturbating me with her pretty bare feet, through my pants, and she seemed to really enjoy the effect her pretty feet had on me! My dick was so hard, it was hard to hide that her feet were turning me on in that position! It was another wonderful stinky feet session, with this cute little Princess Laura! The full version of this stinky feet session is 57 minutes in total, and you know exactly where to find it! I hope you will enjoy this wonderful video as much as I do! I really love this little Princess Laura!

[saltygilmores]

I Found A Small Archive of Super Old Interviews With Milo And Here's Another Incredible One

May 10, 2002

Milo Ventimiglia is burning in the minds of teen girls everywhere due to his role as Jess on the surprise hit series, "Gilmore Girls". What may be a surprise to his fans however, is that he has quite the knack for using the 'love them or hate them' four-letter words, something that I am personally a big fuckin' fan of. (Ok, so that's using six letters, but you get my point!)

Don't let my swearing take away from Milo the actor though, because he is the real deal. So much so that Warner Brothers paid him to NOT work for a whole year. Does that sound a little confusing? Well, it did to us as well, so we went ahead and had Milo give us the lowdown.

JB: How are you?

MV: Ugh. I'm fuckin' wrecked! We had a wrap party last night. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't do anything? But I bowled like a crazy muther.

JB: (Laughter) So it was a long night?

MV: Yeah it was a long night! (Laughter)

JB: And nothing hurts more than an early morning interview.

MV: Actually this isn't too early. I got back last night and saw that I had the interview in the morning. I woke up like half an hour ago and my publicist said the interview was pushed back by an hour. I was just like, "Great" and I really didn't have any idea what was going on. I got up and I checked the fax and saw the interview was bumped, so I went back to bed.

JB: I admire your perseverance.

MV: (Laughter) Thanks, man.

JB: So shooting is done for the year!

MV: Yeah. We wrapped up last Friday. I have a nice three and a half months off. I feel like I'm back in school. I felt like saying, "Have a bitching summer and see you next Fall!"

JB: "Please sign my yearbook." (Laughter)

MV: I swear to God that's what it feels like. It's crazy.

JB: Anything planned for the hiatus?

MV: So far I have no work lined up, but I'd really love to continue working. As of right now though, nothing.

JB: Enjoy the time off!

MV: Yeah! I'm sure I'll find something to do. Some kind of trouble to get into. I just bought a house, so I'm remodeling that. I'm doing a lot of handy work around that place.

JB: Some exciting summer Home Depot trips are in your future.

MV: Oh man! There is a 24-hour Home Depot right near my house.

JB: There are 24-hour Home Depots? That's crazy!

MV: Yeah! So at three in the morning I'll be banging away and turning on my circular saw? Just going for it.

JB: Tell me about your WB holding deal? What exactly did that consist of? Is it that you couldn't go and work for another network?

MV: Basically? yeah! They said, "Here's a lot of money and don't work for anybody else. We don't have anything for you, so you're going to be sitting for awhile." That was an interesting thing.

JB: Was it hard convincing family members that it actually happened? I'd imagine it was difficult to describe to people that you were getting paid to not work?

MV: Not with my family members because they run my books for me, so they saw the checks. Convincing my friends was another a thing. They'd be like, "What are you doing today?" "Well, I think I'm going to go to the beach." They'd be like, "Dude, you said that like two months ago?what are you really doing today?" "I think I'm going to go to the beach." (Laughter) And then the next day I'd be like, "I think I'm going to go to Europe." I was just out of my head bored. Warner Brothers didn't have anything for me to do, so I had to go to do something. The first month or two of being in the deal was fine?I was just hanging out around in LA, going to my parent's house in Orange County or catching up with old friends. Six months into things I was like, "Fuck this shit?I've got to go do something!"

JB: So it lasted for quite some time?

MV: Oh man, it was like a year. They wanted to hold me for almost like two years, but my management team said no.

JB: Could you at least do film?

MV: Yeah. I could do film. In the course of the contract, I did book a film and they did release me to do a guest spot on CSI. They also let me do a commercial or two. There were opportunities but they were getting ready to put me in a show. The holding deal kind of had nothing to do with "Gilmore Girls".

Pilot season came around and I was only reading for the studio's pilots because the contract was with the studio and not the network. I was reading for other pilots and nothing was clicking. I read for "Smallville" and all of these different pilots and for one reason or another I just wasn't getting them. The producers were like, "He's great, but we're not interested." I read for a pilot that was outside of my contract and the producers were really excited about me and Warner Brothers was going to let me out of the contract. At the last minute they said "no" and sent me in for this one pilot and then I tested for it. Next thing I know I was in a meeting with the casting directors for "Gilmore Girls" and the part was a guest spot with the possibility of returning. It wasn't as a series regular or anything. They brought me back to the producers the day of my studio test and that night they called and said, "Hey, we want you to be a series regular." That kind of threw an interesting twist on the contract because it was geared towards putting me in a new show, not an existing show.

JB: Prior to that or even now, do you get yourself worked up about pilot season?

MV: I think this is the first season that I really didn't think about it. I didn't have to audition because I was on a show and I knew we were coming back. I had a contract so now I could focus on my work. I've talked to some of my friends who are actors and they are going crazy and here I am at the craft service table. It was nice to not have to worry about that. Pilots are stressful as it is because you don't know if they'll get picked up. There are some like "Smallville" where they are filming the pilot, knowing that they were picked up for 22 episodes. I'm sure it makes you feel a little more comfortable.

JB: Have you found yourself getting noticed more?

MV: Occasionally. I'm still a nobody, which I enjoy because I can just go about my business. Time to time I'll get somebody who says, "Are you that guy on Gilmore Girls?" They freak out for a second. I was out to dinner with some friends the other night and some girl walked up to me. She was probably about 15 or something. We were finished eating and I was sitting back. The girl walks up and asks, "Excuse me?are you from Gilmore Girls?" I say yes and she asks if her sister can have my autograph. I say, "Yeah that's cool, but where is your sister?" "She's over there but she's a little embarrassed." I said, "Do you want me to go meet her?" I got up and went to meet her. You can tell the people that are genuinely excited about meeting someone who's on TV and I try to relate to them as, "I'm just a person and I'm not larger than life!" It's fun for them though and in a way it's kind of fun for me.

JB: Since jumping in "Gilmore Girls", you've appeared in your share of teen oriented magazines. Have you been the subject of jokes because of it?

MV: Oh my God! Yeah! Oh yeah! One of my oldest friends used to rip on me when we were in college. He's always known that I wanted to be an actor and when we got to the age where we understood the publicity end of it, he would give me crap about Tiger Beat and Teen Beat. I'd be like, "I just want to act and I'm not going to go that whole route." Now my mom was in a grocery store and pulled up a Tiger Beat and my picture was in it. I was like, "You've got to be fuckin' kidding me!" Then I popped up in Teen Beat and others. It's crazy. Hopefully other things will come up. I did a thing for Seventeen that comes out this month and just some other random stuff.

JB: They ask those weird, "What's your favorite color?" kind of questions.

MV: Oh my God. Nothing against the magazines because they definitely have their purposes, but I don't want to answer questions like "Do you have a girlfriend" and "What is your favorite color". Answering more adult questions is more intriguing and that's the vibe I'd like to give off.

(Silence)

MV: My favorite color is black by the way!

[theartisticcrow]

Silly Game Time: If you were to become the patron deity of one specific aspect of the *natural* world, which aspect would you choose?

It could be as wide as the sky or as narrow as tide pools, as universal as clouds or as localized as one mountain, as alive as animals or as inanimate as rocks. All that matters is that it's of nature and that it feels right for you.

(Personally, I would chose to be the god of dusk, when the sun sets and day fades from the sky to give way to night's gentler moon and stars.)

I think I would be the deity of the northern lights, providing a bit of hope and joy in a part of the world so cold, so barren.

And if I were to be a deity of just anything, I think I would have something to do with knowledge or the correction of misinformation and injustice. Or perhaps I would have something to do with revolution, seeing as the French Revolution is something I take a large interest in and I did spend 11 days writing a 30 page essay about Maximilien Robespierre, explaining why he was not a dictator and why people think that (reactionary propaganda, mostly).

I am tired and feeling a little depressed with the current state of the world right now. Usually I'm optimistic and hopeful (what else can I do in my current position?) and I am quick to correct the idiocy of other people who think murdering innocent people in somehow justified (yes, I have had to deal with this. My strong sense of social justice that came free with the autism doesn't allow me to let it slide [lol that's pretty much how Robespierre died])... But today I just feel a bit sad. Thus why I'm answering this ask even though it is from so long ago. I think I meant to answer it but I forgot.

Of course, I did see a play literally about the holocaust earlier today, so it shouldn't be surprising that it had some effect on me. It was really well down and honestly had me close to tears at a couple points throughout the performance, which is saying something because I don't get that kind of emotional very easily.

If I could be a deity of anything, I think I'd like to be a deity of Hope.

But on a more positive and amusing side of things, look what I happened upon in the lighting booth today

Saw the little Robespierre cut out yesterday and couldn't help myself. Funniest thing is that I am factually correct, it's hardly even a joke at this point.

All that said and done, I'm probably going to lie down now. Hey, at least I have Friday off tomorrow so I finally get to take a break for the first time in over a week. I've got everything together for my best friend's birthday "party" on Saturday. It'll just be us too, he doesn't have any other close friends (his school kind of sucks and people suck). Plan I think is that we'll go bowling then head back to his place. He hates his birthday yet refuses to tell me why, but I'm determined to make it fun. I have an entire wooden chest full of gifts, plus a Bill Cipher poster that I created, since of course he's a big Gravity Falls fan and kind of turned me into on too.

I also am going to give him a few of my rubber rats, a nice cloak that I spent three days fixing up, a harmonica I found in my closet, some other random things including a traffic cone that I painstakingly managed to fit inside the box, and the Book of Bill, which I know he will be delighted to see. I'm not too worried about him seeing this despite him technically having a tumblr account. I think he's already forgotten about it anyways, so...

And then I've got some government exam or whatever on Monday that I'm required to complete if I want to ever graduate high school, but I'm not too worried about it. I am however super excited for November because my Drama teacher is offering to take anyone from my Drama class who's interested to go see a production of the Sweeney Todd musical, so I'll be seeing that next month.

Haven't really got much else going on aside from schoolwork and a slideshow presentation that I'm working on as a science project and already I have failed to take it seriously. The first slide starts out with the caption: ASTRONOMY TIMELINE "What's the worst that could happen" and then the next slide is the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs, and then one of the dinosaurs in the image is saying "yeah, I'm sure that's edible" which becomes their last words on a gravestone, so you know this is going to be a good presentation.

Also here's a photo I took of a pigeon while I was in Toronto last weekend.

Sorry but also not sorry if this comes off as weird in any way whatsoever. I've gone completely off topic in regards to the original question but honestly it's just a nice excuse to off about my life because writing my thoughts down always makes me feel better.

If you see this and take the time to read this through, I hope you're doing well and that you're safe and comfortable and I hope that you never have to worry about any terrible things because the world is a terrifying place. I hope you have a good day or night. I hope you're okay and you make sure to take care of yourself. I would be deeply saddened to hear if anything bad happened to you, even despite the fact that I hardly know you.

We're all just people trying to survive and make it through another day. We all have our own concerns and internal conflicts. We all possess our own feelings, whether others realise it or not. I don't care if I hardly know you, I still hope that you feel loved and appreciated.