#White Box Server

[miller-does-stuff-lmfao]

FE discord server

JOIN!!!!

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[ravinderimarc]

The white-box server market has hit $14.6 billion in 2023 and is on track to reach $60.4 billion by 2032, growing at a CAGR of 16.6% from 2024 to 2032. Why is this market growing so fast? Watch our latest video to understand the driving factors and what it means for the future of tech.

[halfcaffeinated]

im making a wiki for my homebrew world in my d&d campaign and i'm using wikidot, which has a somewhat unique language for writing/creating pages, and im learning it as i go so ive been sifting through these community forum posts from like. 2008

and it's just insane to me how much the internet has changed in what? 15 years? 10 years? even 5 years!

we really gotta bring back personal sites imho. i tried so many different wiki-building platforms for d&d (kanka, world anvil, obsidian portal, etc) and the best is still just making it your damn self. i refuse to be locked out of how many pages i can have on my site before having to "ugrade" my "account tier" or some shit. i refuse to be unable to change the links on the sidebar on my site without paying for "premium access" or whatever. i refuse to be limited on how many images i can upload or how many widgets i can put on the front page or how i can arrange those widgets. i hate not being able to export in some way all the content ive written on the site. im just really tired of being told how i have to do things before paying money for something that doesn't even change how im using their platform

[vkalkundrikar006]

https://www.htfmarketintelligence.com/report/global-white-box-servers-market

[lunaticalis]

Having an argument in the server. I need to prove I am not insane for putting sliced sandwich bread/white bread/loaf whatever do u call this 🍞 in the freezer.

[miniimight]

MISSING A DATE . they forget about a big date with you and realize it too late

with deku + bakugou (in their pro-hero era)

one thing about him is that he always tried his absolute best to make time for you amid his busy schedule. you understood that you weren't the only one that demanded his attention due to his work and were okay with that. as long as you still got your 'me-time' with him, where he blocked out the world and focused on you and only you, you couldn't ask for a more perfect relationship.

but this was your last straw. you had forgiven the late nights, the last-minute cancellations—gotten used to being alone in your luxurious apartment, which only reminded you of the one thing you were missing.

you had planned this date for months. a set time where you both blocked off time that night to just be with each other in a word that tried everything to keep you apart.

"remember tonight, baby." you chirped as you kissed him goodbye that morning.

he hummed and gave you a tight hug before leaving.

you felt giddy as you prepared yourself, slipping into your best clothes and fixing yourself in the mirror. you felt as you did on the night of your first date with him. you couldn't be more excited.

then, you waited. and waited. the restaurant happily sat you next to a window, the streetlamps twinkling romantically against the dusky backdrop.

you waited some more. soon your bright posture slouched as your checked your phone. messaged him a couple times, called a few times more. he's probably just running late.

families came and went, and before you knew it, hours had passed.

you burned in embarrassment as you stared at the empty chair across from you, focusing your frustration as if he was sitting there. but even that didn't give you relief. every one of your thoughts and feelings came to the same conclusion—

he hadn't shown up.

IZUKU

you ordered some food to-go. why not get something out of this outing? besides, the food would do good to distract you from the dread swirling in your stomach. you flashed the server a quick smile before dragging your feet out the restaurant.

you threw your bag, coat, and shoes to the ground as you walked into your apartment, uncaring of where they ended up. you needed the couch, a movie, and the food you were carrying.

a few hours later, izuku showed up. you heard the door slide open and the jangle of his keys. his heavy sigh was familiar and it almost made you feel bad for feeling so angry about him missing this date. almost.

you made no move to greet him as he entered the living space, a big grin plastered on his face. "you look pretty."

the compliment was just salt on the wound, ironically. you hummed, remaining laser focused on your show.

he tugged off his white gloves and set them on the table. "what's got you all dressed up tonight, hmm?" he sat next to you, running his hands up and down your arm.

you just handed him one of the takeout boxes. "want some?" you said dryly.

"what's this—? oh, i recognize the name of this restaurant..." he surveyed the box in his hands, his voice becoming quieter as he sunk into his thoughts. "oh."

you got off the couch.

"oh." he repeated, staring at the takeout box incredulously. "baby, don't tell me tonight was—"

"it was." you said simply, walking into the bedroom. you couldn't bear to look at him.

"fuck." you heard him hiss. a light thudding followed as he hurried after you. "y/n, god, i'm so sorry—don't tell me you went there alone—"

"izuku, i don't care anymore." you turned around abruptly, making him skid to a halt before you. his expression read shock. "i don't."

he slumped and inched closer to you. "no, don't say that—"

"you don't give me a reason to care anymore." you laughed wryly though your lips trembled. "i—" your breath hitched and you turned away from him.

his voice sounded watery as he tried to turn your body to face him again. "i'm so sorry, there was a hangout at the agency after work today and... shit, i totally forgot—"

"a fucking party?" you snapped. "you blew off the date you and i planned for months in advance because we never get to spend time together anymore to hang out with the same goddamn people you see every single day?"

he groaned. "i know, i know—"

"you don't know, izuku." your voice quivered. "you don't, okay?" you sobbed.

he was stunned to silence, unsure of how to right something so horribly wrong.

"you don't know what it's like to always be waiting. i'm always waiting for you. you always have something better to do." you sobbed, sitting on the edge of the bed. you really didn't want to have this conversation with him; you knew you'd break down sobbing. you thought it would've been best if he didn't come back home at all.

he knelt beside you, resting his head where your knees hung over the bed. he stared up at your heartbroken face with tears threatening to flow. "there is nothing that deserves my time more than you." he said firmly.

"you say that as if it's true." you said quietly. "but you don't even..." you looked away from him to reign in your emotions.

he frowned deeply. he knew it was all his fault. you reminded him this morning and he still forgot. you had no reason to believe the words coming out of his mouth. that doesn't mean he's going to stop trying to prove them.

he rested his head against your stomach and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "you have every right to hate me right now, y/n. you've been lonely and overlooked and i haven't done anything to make things better."

you refused to look at him.

he tilted his head with hopes of catching your gaze. "y/n, i mean it. there's nothing that deserves my time more than you. anyone else would've left me. you've given me love and understanding with my hero work..." he choked on his words, finally facing the reality of his relationship. "and i've just taken it and left you behind."

you sniffled.

he stood, bending at the waist to kiss your forehead. "i love you. so much. it's time i start proving it, huh?"

your eyes flickered to his, questioning evident on your expression.

he smiled sadly. "japan has many heroes. i'm sure kacchan and todoroki can handle things without me for a while."

you huffed and rolled your eyes. "very funny. you're a hero, izuku, it's in your nature to shoulder everything." you pouted, guilt threatening to inhabit your thoughts.

he shook his head, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "i'm dead serious. the world doesn't need me everyday, you do. and i'll adjust my schedule to suit."

"but..." you groaned. "god, why do i feel guilty now?" you mumbled.

"stop it. you're not keeping me away from anything. this was long overdue. nothing would make me happier," he grinned and kissed you again before tackling you in a hug.

BAKUGOU

you left the restaurant without another word, feeling so sick to the stomach that you couldn't even bear to go home to the empty apartment.

you tried desperately to convince yourself that something important was holding him up. he didn't forget. he just had some life-threatening epic battle that he needed to attend to. he didn't forget.

you crashed at a friend's house for the night, after a very satisfying rant session about your dilemma. they were a great soundboard and didn't try to regulate your emotions. in a lot of cases, just letting your feelings fly free was the best way to cope with a situation out of your hands.

rrrring rrring

you saw the caller ID and was tempted to ignore the call. but your hands moved on their own, accepting it and putting the phone to your ear.

"y/n l/n." bakugou snarled on the other side. "where the fuck are you?"

"a friend's house."

"why?"

you shrugged, hoping your unbothered reaction would be translated across the phone. "wanted to be with someone last night after my boyfriend stood me up."

silence. a very long silence. you heard him cuss under his breath before he replied. "yesterday was our date."

you hummed.

"y/n. come home."

"i'm good here, really."

"i'm serious, come home."

"why? the off-chance of seeing you there?"

his voice grew more desperate. "y/n—" his breath caught in his throat. "i'm home. i'm waiting for you. we can do something today, maybe—"

"katsuki, you can't keep treating me like a test that you can make up whenever you fail the real thing. you're not there when it fucking matters." you snapped, your resolve crumbling as your eyes started to water.

he gave a weighted sigh. "you're right. i've been treating you like shit."

you scoffed.

"but you're always on my mind. every time i see you asleep when you were trying to wait up for me, i—" he inhaled deeply, trying to keep it together. "i'm not the best boyfriend. believe me, i know that. and i'm losing you... i can see that, too."

you waited.

he sniffed. "come home, y/n. please. i—"

you hung up. you tossed your phone aside and stretched. you gently wiped at your cheeks, realizing how many tears streaked them.

after thanking your friend for their hospitality, you decided to go home. you dreaded the conversation that awaited you. uncertainty riddled your thoughts; was this the end?

you opened the door and immediately heard pounding footsteps to meet you. bakugou stood there, looking uncharacteristically stressed and awkward.

you just gave him a passing glance as you slipped off your shoes, hanging your coat up. you walked past him, going to the washroom to refresh yourself with a much needed shower.

as the water ran down your skin, you began to feel guilty. he was a hero. he saved lives. and you were crying over a missed date with him? when his mere presence meant the safety of those around him?

no matter how valid your frustration and sadness was, you couldn't help the creeping guilt from overwriting your feelings.

you stepped out of the shower, then dressed comfortably for a night in. when you opened the bathroom door, he was waiting outside like a puppy.

you sighed. "i'm sorry." you finally said.

his neck snapped to look at you. "why the fuck are you apologizing?"

"you're a hero. i knew what i'd be signing up for when i got into a relationship with you—"

"are you crazy?" he growled, grabbing your cheeks and tilting your face to look at him. he searched your eyes with concern, as if there was something wrong with you. "you don't need to apologize. my being a hero is no excuse for the way i've been treating you."

you frowned. "but—"

"no." he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your head. "you—" he laughed dryly. "i can't believe you thought to apologize to me. you're really crazy."

you opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. "i'm so lucky to have you. seriously. i can't live without you and i will do everything to prove that from now on."

you pulled away and looked at him. "you better mean it."

he gave you a lopsided grin. "i do. thanks..." he trailed off.

you cocked your head to the side. "for...?"

he kissed you gently. "staying." he hugged you tightly, his next words barely a whisper, "i'm always gonna be there for you."

amidst a couple of tears, you believed him.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[fox-guardian]

can we see some Colin/Sam,,, the fluff episode has brain rotted me and I now would like to to see them kiss in the server room

[ID: A digital comic featuring Sam and Colin from The Magnus Protocol. Sam is a fat South Asian man with brown skin and curly black hair and a mustache, and he is wearing a sweater and trousers. Colin is a skinny white man with dusty blonde hair in a long ponytail and scruffy facial hair and body hair, and he is wearing a button down shirt, jeans, and glasses. They are standing in a server room, Colin pinning Sam against a server rack.

Colin kisses Sam, who looks pleased, making a surprised noise. They separate, Sam blushing, looking up at Colin while Colin squints back at him.

Sam: Wow, Colin! I could've sworn you hated me. Colin: Who said I don't?

Colin pulls out a box with a diamond ring in it, holding it up to Sam, otherwise not moving or changing expression. There are black spades floating around his head.

Colin: Now are we doing this or what? Sam, leaning back, overwhelmed and suddenly afraid: WHAT (the word is written inside of his very wide mouth)

end ID]

~~~~

"I don't do hook-ups. I mostly just hate people, marry them, then divorce them." - Colin Becher

anyway yeah i had an idea i had to run with on this one

[lucentloo]

Gift Giving

Summary: Spencer and reader share the love language of gift giving, however, Spencer seems to get reader gifts that she feels like she shouldn’t have since she can’t afford the same for him. 

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Wc: 1740

Content Warnings: Female reader, somewhat poor reader, not feeling good enough, gift giving love language for both Spencer and reader, no y/n, first fic ever, there might be swearing but I doubt it, season 6/7 Spencer, reader works in a restaurant, that should be all (If I’ve missed any please tell me)

a/n: I'm sorry if this sucks really bad but it's my first time writing and I thought I'd give it a try, thank you for reading and if you have any tips for me to get any better please share, have a nice day/night!

You’re staring at the small box on your counter as you hold the phone to your ear waiting for Spencer to pick up. The case he's working on is a crazy one though so you don't have much hope. You wait a few more seconds before giving up and stopping the call. The box on the counter is black with a pristine white ribbon tied and a bow on top. This is the third gift this month from your boyfriend and he doesn’t even have a reason.

You chew your lip as your eyes narrow at the box as if your glare could make it disappear from your kitchen. But alas, it stays exactly where it is. 

You don't hate the gifts, in fact gift giving is one of your love languages, you just feel so guilty that you can’t give Spencer anything back. You’ve tried to buy him something nice one time but that left you without food for a week and you couldn’t do that again without starving yourself. 

With a sigh you grab the box with the silver necklace and make your way to your bedroom to get ready for bed. After you shower and get into your pajamas (Spencer's hoodie and fuzzy socks) you climb into bed and contemplate what to do.

Ever since you were little you were always the kid with the worst birthday present at parties, or you were never the wished upon secret santa at christmas. You don’t have enough money to lavish your love on Spencer like you wish you did. It made you feel bad whenever you got something knowing you couldn’t get him anything like it in return.

You turn on your side and try to push away that persistent feeling that you’re not doing enough, that Spencer deserves someone who can afford to love him. Eventually you grow too tired to think anymore and slip your eyes shut. Sleep comes easier than it should that night and you’re only woken by your alarm early in the morning.

Spencer was worried.

He usually feels at ease with you and knows he can trust you to take care of yourself when he’s gone. However, this week you’ve barely seen him let alone your own bed. Anytime Spencer calls to hang out or take you out on a date he’s interrupted by a, “sorry handsome I’ve picked up the night shift,” or, “I’m filling in for Sandy since she’s out for the day, sorry baby,” and he can’t seem to find a time, day or night, that you’re available.

So he comes up with the only solution. He’s going to your work to forcefully pull you away from your job and take you to his apartment. When he gets there he’s surprised to see that the restaurant is quiet and not bustling like usual. He only spots two people eating at a table and one server walking around. That server isn’t you.

Spencer walks up to the server, Kate, and asks if you’re on break.

Kate looks at Spencer in surprise. “Um no, she left a few minutes ago to go home. The boss made her, apparently she’s been here for, like, three days straight.” she says the last part in a whisper like she’s gossiping to her friend in her high school cafeteria.

Spencer nods and whispers a quick “Thank you” before going back out to the parking lot. He knew he saw your car when he drove in here and decides to check the employees parking, just for reassurance.

Sure enough when he got there he saw your car parked right in front of the back entrance. The car was on and it looked like it was ready to go at any minute. Spencer furrowed his brows as he got closer and looked through your window. There you were, in your car with your uniform still on, sleeping like a baby.

Spencer smiled despite his concern, admiring your peaceful state in the quiet of the night. He doesn’t want to wake you from your sleep knowing it’s probably the most you’ve gotten all week but he needs to make sure you’re okay. 

Spencer knocks on your window and gives a slight chuckle when you jump up in shock. He smiles awkwardly and gives a little wave as you look at him with hard eyes that turn soft when you realize who it is. You unlock the door and step out with a stretch. You yawn before slumping against Spencer.

“Hey baby, why are you sleeping in your car?” Spencer asks softly. He’s trying not to wake you up too much as he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you upright. His heartbeat soothes you enough to let you stay in the drowsy state you find yourself in. Spencer feels you lean more weight on him as your arms encircle his slender form.

“Got off work and felt too tired to drive home.” It was hard to understand you since your face was pressed against Spencer's chest but he heard you well enough to look down at you in concern. He held onto you tighter as he sighed before bending down to pick you up. 

“Let’s get you home sweet girl,” Spencer whispers into your ear as you shut your eyes again and fall back asleep. 

When you wake up the next morning the first thing you register is Spencer's arms around your torso and his breaths blowing down your neck. You groan and shield your eyes from the sun that shines through the curtain and turn your body until you’re cuddled up into Spencer's hold. Your face is pushed into his chest to better hide yourself from the light. 

Spencer shifts slightly and you feel his hand start rubbing up and down the expense of your back. You take a breath in and you’re immediately comforted by the familiar smell of Spencer. He somehow still smells like coffee despite just waking up and he’s got the lingering smell of his cologne that he wore the night before.

 You pull back slowly to look into at him with a small smile before recognition flashes through your eyes. “I’m not at work,” you whisper to Spencer, “I had an early shift today, Spence, baby, I need to be at work.” You try to untangle yourself from Spencer’s tight hold on you but don’t succeed. “Spencer, I'm not joking. I need to leave.”

Spencer shakes his head. “No.”

You look at him, not amused. “No?”

Spencer shakes his head again as his arms hold you impossibly tighter. “No.”

You sigh and stop struggling. Finally looking into his eyes you see the confusion and concern that’s directed at you. And damn does that make you feel guilty. The little seed that was planted at the beginning of the week just keeps growing and growing.

Spencer seems to sense the conflict you feel and kisses the top of your head. “I need you to take a break and tell me what’s going on. You’ve been distant and short with me, and I miss you, I want to see you.” Spencer whispers the confession in the silent room and it makes you tear up a little.

Your head lowers as you try to hide yourself under his blanket. The embarrassment floods through you as guilt eats your inside whole. “I’m sorry,” is all you can manage to say to him. 

Spencer hums in acknowledgment before sitting up and bringing you with him. He sits you on his lap so you’re facing him and he lifts your chin so he can peer into your eyes. “Baby, there’s no need to say sorry, just tell me what's going on in that head of yours, hm?” 

You take a shaky breath in before slowly letting it out to keep your tears at bay. The attempt seems futile though as you can’t seem to hold it together. “I can’t get you anything nice.” You say in a whimper as small sobs escape your lips and you hide your face in his neck.

Spencer’s lips turn down in concern as he thinks about what you just said. His thumb draws small circles on your waist as he contemplates how to go about this. “What do you mean sweetie? You give me nice things all the time.” Spencer tries to point out the things you’ve given him in the past - cookies, a new tie, the pen he uses every day - but it just makes you feel even worse. Those are things that shouldn’t even be considered gifts, let alone nice ones.

“No, n-no, you always get me these necklaces and, and books, and things that I could never afford.” Your sobs interrupt your speech slightly but It doesn’t deter you. “I just want to repay you, give you something nice for a, a change but instead I wo-worry you.” You burst into tears again as you squeeze Spencer tighter.

“Woah, woah, okay, hey, it’s okay. Baby I don’t need those kinds of gifts, I just need you. Is that why you were overworking yourself?” Spencer asks in a worried tone. His lips find the top of your head again as you nod your head against his neck. You hear him sigh before pulling back slightly. You raise your head to look at him and he wipes your tears away when he cups your cheek.

“Your health and happiness come way before an object I don’t even need.” He says in a stern yet soft voice. You lower your head to hide your face but he moves his head as well to keep eye contact. “Hey, I’m being serious, I don’t want you to work yourself crazy just to afford a gift. You’re way too important to me.” Spencer whispers the last part before giving you a soft kiss. 

You sigh after the kiss and look up at Spencer. “But that’s how I show my love, I don’t see you a lot so I like to give you gifts.” Spencer smiles as his thumb strokes your cheek.

“So keep giving me cookies and pens, they really do make my day.” Spencer goes in for another kiss that has you smiling more than you have in days. 

“Okay,” You whisper against his mouth.

Spencer kisses your cheek, then nose, then your other cheek, then your eyebrows, he does this until you’re a giggling mess. “I love you so much.” He finally says as he kisses your lips again.

“I love you too.”

[bellyasks]

menu for a restaurant that specializes in overstuffing its customers (aka a silly prompt list)

Ask your server about dietary accommodations. Each meal is made to order, substitutions and alternative ingredients are available! All meats may be replaced with plant-based alternatives upon request. (And pick a meal to feed your favorite character--if they can finish it, they get one dessert on the house!)

Breakfast (all orders come with a side of home fries, fresh fruit, or your choice of meat)

Full Stack of Pancakes - Emphasis on "full." Lucky seven big fluffy pancakes, each with a different additive of your choice.

Big Ol' Bagel - A hefty bagel the size of your plate, toasted to order and topped with whatever you'd like.

Ostrich Egg Omelette - Okay, not really, but this omelette is made with two dozen eggs--the equivalent of one ostrich egg--and filled with your choice of meat and veggies.

Loaf of French Toast - A dozen thick slices of French toast topped with whipped cream and fresh berries.

Plus Size Pork Roll - A classic pork roll egg & cheese on our signature giant bagel.

Lunch (all orders come with a side of chips or fries)

Peanut Butter & Jelly Belly - The biggest PB&J you've ever seen, slathered generously on a buttery toasted baguette.

Quadruple Decker Club Sandwich - Your choice of meat with mayo, lettuce, tomato, and bacon, heaped on between four slices of bread.

Piece-A Pizza - This slice is equivalent in size to an entire large pizza and covered with your choice of toppings. Perfect for people who are lying to themselves when they say they'll just have one piece.

Double Footlong - Two feet of classic Italian hoagie on a fresh-baked roll.

Stomach Stretcher - They say eating a head of lettuce is a great way to stretch your stomach out, and that's exactly what this giant salad will do. We bring you the lettuce, you take it to the salad bar and add the rest.

Dinner (all orders come with a side of rice, fries, baked or mashed potato, or a fresh vegetable medley unless marked *)

Sushi Bloat Boat - A sushi boat big enough for a full table, pricey to share but free for any one person who manages to finish it alone.

Box of Pasta - A full 16oz box of pasta (your choice of spaghetti, penne, or linguine) tossed in Alfredo, marinara, or a white wine sauce. Add your choice of meat for an extra $2.

Full Size Fish & Chips* - An entire 10-20lb cod (ask your server about choosing a fish) cleaned, battered, fried, and served with steak fries.

The Whole Farm* - A barbecue variety platter. Pulled pork, brisket, ribs, and chicken breast slathered in our signature sauce, with an ear of corn, baked beans, and coleslaw on the side.

Raised Steak - A 48oz grilled ribeye. Also available as an equivalent weight of seasoned and grilled portobello mushrooms.

Dessert

Paint Can - A creamy and colorful milkshake served in a one gallon paint can. See the ice cream counter for today's available flavors.

Loaf of Bread Pudding - Warm bread pudding made with an entire loaf of bread, topped with an optional scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Root Beer Bloat - A classic float with your choice of ice cream. The twist is that this dessert holds two liters of root beer and a portion of ice cream to match.

Burp-day Cake - A seven-layer slice of chocolate cake guaranteed to be the size of your head or it's free, topped with a thick crust of fizzy Pop Rocks.

Gobbler Cobbler - A pie-sized dish of peach, blueberry, or apple cobbler, topped with three optional scoops of vanilla ice cream.

[uluvjay]

Puppy Love-A. Fantilli

Adam Fantilli x fem! Reader

In which a dinner in Italy leads to a romantic night inside

Warnings?; Smut, fluff, oral(f receiving), unprotected sex(a big no no), cursing, light fingering, kissing, teasing, nicknames, pet names, light alcohol consumption, prob some errors

“Baby?” You called out for Adam as you returned from a day of shopping and touring the city with his mom.

Walking further into the hotel room you found it empty, assuming he was out with Luca you sat your bags down and turned towards the bed when a little note in the middle caught your eye.

Be ready by six and where that dress I like- Mo x

A cheesy smile tugged at your lips as you read his words, checking the time to see you only had two hours left you made quick work to jump into the shower.

After shaving and exfoliating your entire body from head to toe you finally emerged, starting on your hair before applying a bit of makeup due to a full face most likely melting off due to the heat.

By the time you were finished it was almost six and gave you the perfect amount of time to get dressed in the white sundress Adam loved, pairing it with a pair of sandals and your everyday jewelry.

A knock sounding on the door right as you picked your clutch up, you moved towards the sound and opened the door to reveal your boyfriend.

Dressed in a white linen shirt and dark dress pants, his hair styled back, the familiar scent of his soft cologne filling your senses.

“Mio Dio” He whistled at the sight of you, enjoying the way a soft blush tinged your cheeks.

“Hello to you too handsome.” You greeted, stepping out of the hotel room and into his extended arms, placing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You look gorgeous baby.” He spoke into your hair before pulling back, his hand resting in yours as he began to guide you through the hall towards the elevator.

“Thank you.” You spoke, turning to face him as you waited for the metal box to reach your floor.

“So where are we going?” You asked, smirking as he looked down at you with a look that told you, you wouldn’t be getting an answer.

“Somewhere.” He shrugged.

“Adammm” you whined playfully, “will you please tell me?” You asked as you stepped into the elevator.

“Nope, you’ll just have to wait and see.” He smirked pulling you close as he placed a small kiss to your head.

You didn’t ask anymore as you two made your journey towards wherever he was taking you, an easy conversation flowing as you caught each other up on your days.

Eventually after walking for about fifteen minutes you stumbled upon a beautiful restaurant, pulling open the large door Adam motioned for you to enter first as he followed closely behind.

“Hello, do you have a reservation?” The hostess asked politely.

“Yes, Fantilli for two at 6:20” Adam smiled.

“Perfect, right this way Mr and Mrs. Fantilli”

You blushed at the name but didn’t correct her, you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered around in your stomach at the name.

You and Adam had talked briefly about marriage but you were both young, and with you still having a few years left of college and him just starting his career you both felt it was best to wait.

Adam pulled your chair out for you as you reached the table before taking his own, the hostess left you with menus and let you know your server would arrive shortly.

“So what will you be having tonight Mrs. Fantilli?” Adam smirked as he watched you examine the laminated paper.

You blushed at his words, the sound of it coming from his lips causing warmth to spread throughout your heart at the thought of that being your name one day.

“I’m not sure, everything looks so good” you shrugged eyeing the multiple dishes that sounded absolutely mouth watering.

“Not as good as you thought.” He spoke up causing the both of you to break out in a fit of soft giggles.

“That was cheesy I’m so sorry.” He shook his head.

“It’s okay, I liked it.” You smiled, eyes meeting his briefly before the server approached the table and began to take your orders.

After placing your orders, you two waited for your drinks and bottle of wine Adam had ordered and soon fell back into your earlier conversation.

The night seeming to slip away as you two got caught up In each other, the food tasting absolutely Devine and next thing you knew you two were sitting side by side looking out at the beautiful waterfront view as you finished off the bottle of wine.

Adam’s hand had slipped from around your shoulder and now rested dangerously high on your thigh, wine always did get him touchy but you would never complain.

“Thank you for tonight, I’ve had a lot of fun.” You smiled up at him, placing a soft kiss to his lips as he turned his head in your direction.

“Of course baby, you know I love to spoil you.” He smiled, his lips meeting yours once again however this time the kiss was heavy and hot.

Adam’s hand raising to grip the back of your head as he pulled you impossibly closer, his tongue trying to find its way into your mouth is what reminded you of your surroundings.

Pulling back you sucked in a breath of air, gazing into his now lust filled eyes you could feel your core throb with the idea of him.

“Take me to the hotel Adam.” You breathed.

Adam had never been so thankful that he’d paid the bill the second you two were done eating, the restaurant allowing you to finish your wine before heading home.

“Yes ma’am” he smirked and soon you two were up and hastily making your way out of the restaurant.

The walk back to the hotel seemed to be half of what it was there, making it back to the hotel in record time he had you two up onto your floor and in your room in no time.

His hands immediately circling around your waist as the door slammed shut, your clutch falling carelessly to the ground as Adam lifted you from the ground.

Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist you kissed him back with just as much force as he kissed you with, hands tangling in his dark hair you tugged slightly at the roots earning you a soft grunt in reply.

He walked you two towards the bed before laying you down on the soft mattress, a whimper escaping from you as he pulled his lips away from yours.

“Adam” you breathed as he began to trail kissed down your body.

“I know baby, I know.” He cooed, lifting one of your legs to his shoulder as he kissed the length of it before slipping your sandal off and doing the same to the other leg.

Dropping your legs he dropped to his knees in front of you, pulling you down the bed by your ankles he rolled your dress up getting a view of your damp panties.

“Fuck Angel.” He groaned at the sight, his fingers making quick work of the spoiled material before he made himself comfortable and dove in licking a trail through your folds.

“Oh fuck.” You cried at the contact, hands immediately slipping into his hair tugging hard as his lips wrapped around your clit.

You moaned loudly as he ate you like a starved man, his tongue tracing shapes and his name over and over until soon his fingers joined.

The addition causing your hips to buck shamelessly against his face, crying out when his nose bumped your clit.

“Adam!” You panted as you felt the band in your lower tummy getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“Can feel you getting close honey, go ahead and come for me pretty girl.” He panted as he pulled back slightly before diving back in.

His movements merciless now, doing his best to help you reach your high, and truly he didn’t have to do much more before your thighs were shaking around his head and a sharp cry filled the space of the hotel room.

You were both panting as he crawled over your body, his face glistening in your release as he dropped down to kiss you.

“I love making you come for me.” He smirked cockily.

“And trust me, I love coming for you.” You giggled.

He shook his head before standing back on his feet and stripping his clothes, helping you stand as he did the same to you.

He kissed you softly as he laid you back down on the bed and came to rest above you on one of his elbows.

“Ready pretty girl?” He asked softly as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds.

You nodded in agreement, mouth dropping open in a silent cry as he pushed inside.

“Fuck” he groaned in your ear, allowing you to get adjusted to his length before he began his movements.

Adam could feel your soft touch travel down his back before soon your nails were digging into his skin as he sped up, sounds of slapping skin mixing with your soft moans filling the room.

“Sound so pretty for me baby.” He praised, lips leaving wet kisses around the skin of your neck and jaw.

You couldn’t think straight through the pleasure, to consumed by the feeling of all things him, the way his lips felt hot against your skin, and how good he took care of your body, his cock never missing that sensitive spot deep inside you.

You were too distracted to notice his hand inching downward until you felt the added pleasure against your clit.

“Adam..fuck.” You heaved, the pleasure becoming overwhelming as you felt your body heating up, that familiar sensation building up fast in your lower stomach for the second time tonight.

“I know baby, can feel you clenching me so tight.” He groaned, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he sped up his movements just a bit.

The change in speed causing a beautiful cry to slip from your lips, your nails raking down his back as your body began to shudder.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as you felt your orgasm wash over you, body arching into his as white clouded the sides of your vision for a moment.

Adam continued his movements as he fucked you through your high, desperately chasing his own that he was right on the edge of.

He came with a hard grunt, his hips stuttering against yours for a moment before he came to a stop, allowing himself a moment to catch his breath before he dropped down beside you and pulled you into him.

He smiled when he felt your lips against his hot skin as you placed kisses on his chest, his hand coming to stroke your damp and now messy hair.

“You did so good baby.” He praised quietly.

“Thank you” you blushed snuggling more into his strong frame.

You two relaxed for a bit longer before Adam was up and helping you towards the bathroom where he started up the shower.

Making sure to take his time, Adam washed your hair before your body, you leaned against him enjoying the feeling of his large hands on you.

You did the same to him, though the hair washing was a bit of a challenge due to his height you two made it work.

Exiting the shower he gave you one of his old Michigan shirts to sleep in while he pulled on clean boxers.

Climbing into bed he pulled you close to him, enjoying the feeling of having you in arms after being away from you all day.

“I love you so much, you know that right?” He spoke up softly.

“I know, and I love you so much more Mo.” you whispered back before snuggling into his warmth and allowing sleep to swallow you.

-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

"This is a nice place," you look around a the brunch bistro and rub your arm. The upscale venue isn't your usual joint. You're a grab and go girly aside from your girls' nights. 

"Peggy likes it," Mr. Rogers spreads his shoulders wide as he peruses the menu in his hand, dwarfing the patio style chair, "I'm more of a pub food guy but guess it's a bit early for that." 

"Oh, well, thanks for bringing me," you smile, "I... I don't eat out a lot." 

“No?” He wonders, “guess it’s no fun eating alone,” he chuckles and tilts his head, “kinda why I asked you to come.” 

“Uh, yeah, I don’t mind so much but I’m a homebody. I like to sit at home with Mitzy and knit.” 

“Mitzy?” He narrows his eyes, “so not a husband, a girlfriend. 

You chortle, “my cat.” 

“Oh,” his cheeks tinge a little pink, “right, the picture on your desk.” 

“Yeah, her,” you smile broadly, “she usually steals my yarn though so I don’t get much done.” 

“That’s cute. Peggy doesn’t like pets,” he sits back and puts down the menu. “I cat sat for Bucky for a week back when we were engaged...” 

“Mr. Barnes has a kitty?” 

“Don’t let his hard exterior fool you, he’s not as bad as he looks,” he scoffs. “So...” he slaps his chest and drags his hand down to his stomach, “getting peckish? Whatcha thinking of getting?” 

“Hmm,” you lean forward and browse the offerings, “maybe the beet salad.” 

“Beets?” He makes a face. 

“Uh, yeah, my mom always used to have beets. I dunno.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re close with your mom.” 

“Was,” you keep your eyes on the menu, “she... passed.” 

“Uh, wow, I’m sorry. I...” 

“It’s fine. Oh, reminds me, I sent your mom her flowers for the month. Lilies.” 

“Ah, thanks. Yeah, I should call her,” he says, “but lately, I just haven’t had a chance. Every time I do, it’s just another argument with Peg--” 

He stops himself as the server returns. Your chest pangs in sympathy. Peggy hadn’t sounded happier earlier. You wonder why. Marital stuff. You’re not so sure you ever want to find out. 

“Do we know what we want?” The pretty redhead smiles. 

“Ladies first,” Mr. Rogers gestures to you. 

“Oh, sure, um, could I get the beet salad?” You say. She scribbles on her pad and looks at Mr. Rogers. 

“Ah, sure, I’ll get the roast beef with the caesar salad, dressing on the side please,” he smiles and offers his menu, “oh, and a refill on the coffee.” 

“Sure thing,” she takes both menus and heads off.  

You turn your attention to the window and look at the flower boxes just on the other side. Your eyes wander up to a passerby walking a tiny white dog and you grin. You continue to watch the world pass by, a serene glaze rolling over your vision. 

As the waitress returns with the carafe to fill Mr. Roger’s cup, you sit up and blink away your haze. He smirks over the rim of his cup and sips. You give a guilty shrug. 

“Sorry.” 

“No, it was... it’s fine. You looked... peaceful,” he says, “what are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing, really, croissants.” 

“Croissants?” He muses as he places his mug on the table. 

“Yeah, for next weeks meeting. Croissants or scones.” 

“Both?” He suggests. 

“That works,” you agree. 

“Hm, you look like that, thinking of work?” 

“I was thinking but not,” you say.  

“Right,” he nods and looks down glumly. “Wish I could get my mind to stop.” 

“Mm, I guess... I guess you’d have a lot to think about.” 

“Well, I can’t complain, you take care of most of it,” he runs his fingertips along the cup handle, “you really do just make everything easier. I never have to worry about you, Rosie.” 

“It’s my job,” you trill. 

“And you do it well and with a smile on your face. Some days... that smile keeps me sane,” he says. 

It’s your turn to blush. He can be so cheesy. You’re quiet, not sure what to say. You should thank him, maybe? 

“Well, what about a gift basket?” You cheep. 

“Huh?” Confusion lines his forehead. 

“Oh, my, sorry, I was thinking out loud,” you giggle and sit forward, “for Mrs. Rogers? She seems stressed, you too. You could send her a surprise and maybe... maybe take her somewhere nice. Not a restaurant, too busy but—but--” you keep yourself from rambling and press your fingers to your lips as you cup your chin. “Sorry.” 

“No, no, I like it. A gift basket, yeah, chocolates?” 

“She likes vanilla lattes so maybe a gift card too? She can treat herself.” 

“How do you know that?” He asks. 

“She always sends me for one when she comes in,” you shrug, “I’m more into the cinnamon dolce myself.” 

“Cinnamon, hmm, me too,” he agrees. “Where we you thinking I should take her?” 

“Oh, now I think of it, it might be expensive,” you cringe and drop your hand to the table. 

“She’s my wife, I shouldn’t worry about the money,” he says, “so?” 

“I’ve never been but um, like, a spa? Or maybe a massage place? A couples’ massage? Get the tension out?” 

“Mhmm,” he nods and his eyes narrow, “that isn’t a bad idea.” 

You grin and twiddle your fingers restlessly. Now that you can smell the kitchen, you are pretty hungry. You jitter your leg under the table as Mr. Rogers toys with his tie. 

“Too bad,” he says, “any man would be lucky to call you their wife. Maybe one day, huh?” 

[waterloolovers]

One Shots:

please be sure to read the tags and author's note before reading. Some of my stories may contain triggering material. Always read the tags and the author's notes.

say (don't go) - Alex storms the castle, Henry doesn't tell him to stay 4.1K

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(I'm scared I'm going to) wreck this - Alex and Henry have matching Wreck This journals 2.5K

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 16

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader warnings: language, alcohol, smut, oral, life chats about shitty childhood experiences. nothing too bad.

For a little insight to the resort, check out these vids: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMrqQUKe3/ (for the sake of the story we ARE pretending that this is an all inclusive & food/drinks aren’t an extra cost!)

Emily spent the next couple of days flipping through brochures and scrolling through various locations the Waldorf had but nothing pulled her attention like the one in the Maldives did. Each time she had a spare second to let her brain drift from the task at hand she found herself daydreaming of white sand beaches, stunning turquoise water and the luxury of experiencing all from your own private villa. She needed to go, whether alone, with a friend or with you she honestly didn’t even really care at this point.

So she began to plant the seeds, slowly, spreading them out over time and making sure to nurture them, casually having them drop into conversation. She knew she couldn’t just spring and entire vacation on you, there were multiple things to think of, arrange and take care of before any of that could happen.

First it was a casual conversation the following week, asking about the info drop at Heather’s house, if you really didn’t celebrate Christmas or if she was just teasing, that you had some fun traditions with friends for that time of year. When you said you didn’t, your tradition was usually solo pizza and sweatpants, she could successfully check off the first box on her list.

Second, she lucked out, a mutual friend posting a beachside selfie to their Instagram story that she was able to send to you, her caption reading ‘must be nice’. A few seconds later your reply came through, ‘god, there are few things I wouldn’t do to be oceanside in the sun right now.’

Third, you were out for dinner together at what was a pretty trendy and touristy spot in town and when you server greeted you they asked if you were on vacation. You both laughed it off and after they left you let out a soft groan, muttering about how you hadn’t been on a vacation since the last election. Emily half teasing, asked if you even got vacation time with a job like yours and you chuckled, explaining that Heather was nice enough that if someone from her team didn’t use their vacation time for one calendar year it would carry over to the next, you had about four months racked up, sitting there getting dusty and practically begging to be used.

The fourth and final nod for her to bite the bullet was when she was leaving the Waldorf one morning, the concierge calling out to her, waving her over with a warm smile. They asked if she’d done any thinking about the Maldives, saying that reservations were filling up pretty quickly and they didn’t want her to miss out on the opportunity. They went as far to say that they’d put a thirty six hour hold on a villa for her and that she should definitely think about it, it was a once in a lifetime experience after all. It only took a minute as she chewed on her lip, thinking about her own piled up vacation time and how happy Bailey would be to have her out of his hair for at least a week and she was pulling out her card.

It originally hadn’t meant to be a surprise, she had been planning on actually bringing it up to you, seeing if you were interested and had the actual and emotional time and energy for something like this. There was technically still a chance all you wanted to do over the break was rot in your bed eating takeout and not see a single human at all. Which is why she spent more time fidgeting around with dates than even making the decision to go in the first place, making sure you should have time on both sides of the trip to do whatever it was you’d want to not celebrate the season. She reminded herself that this was nothing out of the ordinary, this wasn’t some huge, luxurious, grand gesture or anything, sugar babies were very regularly taken on vacations like this.

So what if it just so happened that The Maldives were a little fancier than Florida?

**

Your coat was already on, unbuttoned and loosely opened in the front, bag dangling from your elbow as you stopped in the doorway to Heather’s office.

“You wanted to see me before I left?” You asked, lingering just a few steps into the room, “and please don’t let this drag on too long, I’ve still got to go find a couple of new dresses before dinner.”

Heather glanced up from her laptop, “oh, I just wanted to let you know your vacation request was approved, glad to see you’re finally using up some of that time.”

Your head tilted, nose scrunching slightly as you stepped further into the room, “are you sure you’ve got the right person? Amelia and I do have incredibly similar work emails…I only put in for three days.”

She turned back to her laptop, clicking through a few things before looking back up at you, “definitely not Amelia.” She shrugged, “you’re getting paid for the time off, you may as well take advantage of it.”

“I—” Before you could fully formulate a response, there was a clatter of noise behind you and you turned just in time to see Tony catching himself on the doorframe, nearly tripping over his own feet as he entered the office.

“Oh good, I managed to catch you before you left, McGee just would not shut up—”

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked, glancing between him and Heather, the grin slowly beginning to curl her lips up.

Tony shrugged, nodding toward your boss, “she told me to show up at three, pick up her black card and take you shopping for some summer clothes and the sluttiest bikinis we could find.”

“Bikinis?” You raised a brow, turning back to Heather who simply smirked, handing Tony her card and waving the two of you off.

“Well, get going. Would hate for you to be late for dinner with Emily.”

“Emily…” Tony taunted, “ooooooo… now we’ve got a naaaaammee.” He began to prod at your side, jabbing at your ribs before you punched him in the stomach.

“You stop talking right now and maybe I’ll even model some of the bikinis for you.”

He immediately froze, mimicking zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key as his eyes sparkled and you rolled your own with a scoff before dragging him out of the office.

**

Obviously, Emily had absolutely no reason to be worried about you being shocked or turning down the accidental surprise. But if she had any lingering hesitancies, they were certainly blown away the second the jet touched down and you were escorted to your own private yacht to journey across the ocean to the island resort.

Greeted with fresh warm hand towels and given a mini tour of the boat you were offered a variety of drinks, choosing coffee first to wake up from the plane ride followed by a champagne toast to kick off the start of your vacation. The journey to the island was only similar to a ferry in that it was a boat over water, you were given free reign of the vessel and even offered the opportunity to drive through the calm waters. With the sun basking down on you, most of the time was spent on the roof of the boat, picking through a handful of tapas and getting endless refills of champagne, the true sense of relaxation soothing deep through both of your bodies.

Resort staff greeted you at the island, whisking your bags away for easy transport while you were offered fresh watermelon juice to check in with, making sure that all of your accommodations were set up properly. A brief tour of the main lodge was given, a few of the dining and gift options shown off before you were escorted to a golf cart for a tour of the full private island and all of the amenities you had to take advantage of over the next week and a half. Emily’s hand naturally fell to your thigh while you rode, her thumb stroking at your skin and you couldn’t help but pick up her hand in yours.

Arriving at your overwater villa you almost instantly wanted to scold Emily for how much she must have spent on the place, but between the staff making sure you had no more questions and your distraction by the luxury resort, your thoughts were quickly washed away. The first door opened to the large outdoor space, bicycles for getting around the island on your own, a large cushy porch swing and cozy seating area that was covered, looking out into the ocean. Beyond that was the sun soaked piece of the porch, multiple loungers looking directly into the water, nets sitting directly over the ocean to relax in and if that wasn’t enough, your own large private pool and a hanging daybed on the other end of the area to tie it all together.

Through another door and you entered the inside of the villa, floor to ceiling windows that could slide open to let the fresh salt air breeze around you no matter what time of day. A king sized bed that you just knew was going to be the comfiest thing you’d ever sleep in facing the windows for ample sunset views, large television on an angle from the bed for those late night movie binges and of course long black out curtains for those mornings you just wanted to sleep in. The bedroom had its own mini bar and coffee station, a complimentary bottle of wine and basket of fruit and treats left out for the two of you to enjoy. The small hallway leading to the bathroom had a glass floor to see straight through to the crystal waters. The bathroom itself was huge, two glass walled standing showers and a tub that would easily fit both of you facing yet another wall of sliding doors.

“Emily…” you breathed out, turning back to face her, “this is insane.”

“First vacation in four years? I like to think it has to be pretty memorable.”

“No kidding.” You replied, eyes still scanning around the villa as you leant in, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “I don’t even know where to start…” You couldn’t help yourself turning on your toes trying to soak it all in.

She chuckled softly, leaning in and kissing the back of your neck, “well… I heard you might have a couple of new suits… you could start with one of those.”

“I do suppose working on my tan would be a good first choice.” You glanced over your shoulder at her, a gleam in your eye as you practically skipped back to the bedroom to change, eager to take advantage of the warmth and sun.

*

You’d been sprawled across one of the outdoor loungers enjoying the sun while finally getting a chance to start on one of the many books in your to read pile for the majority of the morning. An empty cup of iced coffee on the table beside you along with a plate of very succulent and incredibly fresh fruit you were still occasionally picking at. Your finger slid through a page, realizing you’d come to the end of your current chapter and your head rolled back toward the villa, Emily had been napping when you first came out but she wasn’t in the bed any longer.

Curiosity (and the desire for a coffee refill) got the best of you, letting out a content sigh as you stood from the lounger, padding back up the deck to the villa. Emily had pulled a cover up over her swim suit, sat at one of the chairs with her laptop in front of her. You clicked your tongue, but she didn’t seem to notice you returning inside as you walked up behind her, your arm reaching over her shoulder to gently shut the laptop.

“Emily…” you warned, your lips brushing at the side of her neck, “now is not the time.”

“Just one—” She was cut off from even unlocking her phone as you plucked it from her hand, nipping at her neck.

“You pick up your work phone one more time and I’m throwing it into the ocean.” You murmured into her ear, your hand sliding up the back of her neck, threading through her hair as you moved it off to one side. “I didn’t even bring my work phone. C’mon.”

With a slight sigh, she pushed back from the desk, standing up to face you, her first thought that you were going to drag her into the ocean. Instead she was met with your hands toying with the knot of her cover up, gently nudging her further inside the villa.

“You left the BAU in JJ’s very capable hands, if there’s some sort of freak emergency, they can call your personal cell.” You got the robe undone, letting it drape over her shoulders, “you deserve this vacation as much as I do, if not even more. So relax,” the back of her knees hit the bed, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she noticed the way your eyes were darkening. “You need it, and I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you come back from here as refreshed as possible.”

“Sounds like a pretty good offer.” She teased and you laughed.

“It’s a guarantee.”

With a gentle nudge from you, Emily fell back onto the bed, shifting until she was comfortable laying against the lush pillows and you dropped over her. Your mouth returned to her neck, pressing sticky kisses into it as your hands began to roam. She could feel the warmth wafting off your sun soaked skin, the slightest hint of coconut from your sunscreen and you had completely invaded her senses. Any singular thought about work gone, every worry melting away a little bit more each time your lips brushed over her body.

Emily let out a soft moan as you trailed down her collarbone, fingers shifting the fabric of her suit to the side to suck a nipple into your mouth, bringing it to a peak before repeating the action on the other side. You kissed, licked and sucked your way across her stomach and down her body until you were settled in between her legs, fingers slipping into the bottoms of her swim suit, sliding it to the side to give you full access to her pussy. Her breath caught in her throat as you blew cool air onto it, fingertips brushing feather light over her slit before pressing into her clit and her eyes fell shut.

“Fuck…”

“You like that?” You murmured, fingers running through her folds again, this time pressing a little harder, dipping into her wetness before swirling around her clit and she let out a low moan.

Rather than wait for a response you leant forward, tongue swiping through her folds, flicking at her clit and your lips curved into a grin at the sound that came from between her lips. Your mouth eagerly wrapped around her, tongue dipping into her cunt, groaning over the sweet taste of her juices. Emily’s hands quickly found their way into your hair, tugging at the up do while trying not to grind herself onto your face.

She could feel the pleasure flying through her already, little sparks shooting off every time your tongue brushed through her, her pussy getting wetter and wetter as her breath started to pick up. In any other situation she felt like she’d be a little embarrassed about how quickly she was turned on and by how much. How the simple movements of your mouth against her cunt had her practically whimpering already, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. However there was something so incredibly different about this, the wide open doors, the entire ocean ten feet from the bed almost feeling like the two of you were exposed to the world when you were actually in your own little bubble. Rather than the sounds of the city, honking cars, people yelling, constant traffic all she could hear was the gentle waves of the ocean, the occasional bird and of course you groaning into her pussy. The entire thing was wildly erotic yet intimate and somehow the most relaxing thing in the world.

As if you could sense the little bit that was Emily still holding back you reluctantly pulled your mouth off of her, your thumb replacing it, pressing through her folds and rubbing at her clit.

“Don’t hold back, there’s no need to keep quiet.” You murmured, nipping gently at her inner thigh and her lip burst free, a gasp coming from the back of her throat.

“Shit!” She felt her hips buck up off the mattress as your mouth returned between her legs, this time wrapping around her clit. “Oh god that’s good.” She couldn’t help but let out a whine, “more, please!”

Your tongue flicked varying patterns across her swollen clit and your hand snuck up between her legs, two fingers easily slipping into her dripping cunt. Her thighs twitched around you, a low swear leaving her lips as her eyes scrunched tighter shut and the fingers in your hair tightened. You wasted no time, crooking your fingers with each thrust until she cried out.

“Fuck! Right there!”

A smirk took over your lips and you increased the pressure on her clit, feeling it throbbing between your lips as her pussy fluttered around your fingers. You picked up the pace, matching the timing that her hips would jump up off the bed, small cries escaping her lips as your fingers continued to brush the sensitive spot over and over again. Each time she felt you pressing just a little bit harder, lingering just a little bit longer and before she knew it her body was shaking, your hands pinning her thighs to the bed as you fucked her through her orgasm.

“Christ.” She muttered, running a hand over her face and you laughed softly.

“Feeling more relaxed?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm…” you grinned wickedly up at her from between her legs, your fingers beginning to smear around her juices, “your words are still pretty coherent, I think I better give it another go.”

She couldn’t even open her mouth to protest before you were back on her and she let out a low moan, head dropping back into the pillows. Every single thought left her, the only thing remaining was the feeling of your mouth, warm and wet on her pussy and the soothing sounds of the ocean as you brought her to her peak another four times.

**

Neither of you had even realized just how much you both needed the break, away from your time consuming and draining careers, to be so far from society out on your own little slice of heaven over the water. Waking up with the sun daring to peak through the curtains, the sounds and smell of the ocean drifting through the villa was one thing, but getting to truly enjoy it, lounging tangled in the sheets while coffee brewed and breakfast was delivered, half the time drowsing off again until you were truly rested, was a whole different story.

Between enjoying the privacy of your villa, warm ocean water and exploring the resort you definitely got your share of vacation. Dinner down at an extensive beach BBQ, the buffet so long you couldn’t possibly fit everything you wanted on even two plates, surrounded by people having a good time, live music and a DJ to keep everyone entertained. There were movie nights under the stars, a variety of genres to keep everyone happy, the earlier the movie the more PG, the darker the sky got, the more fun was had.

You were allowed to completely relax and be yourselves, there was no worry of having to uphold an image, no one cared about who you were or your reputation. Between that and the privacy of the resort, you were free to do whatever you want, and that included public displays of affection. There were no potential spying eyes of FBI management or staff of other government officials who were always looking for dirt. You were free to be you and more importantly, be together. Emily’s hand playing with yours over the table top, tracing the lines of your palm with her fingertip, your arm interlocking with hers as you walked down the beach, her hand on the small of your back to direct you out of the way of foot traffic. The freedom brought a whole new level of peace to an already incredible vacation.

Back at the villa one night after a few rounds of trivia accompanied by fruity cocktails, the hotel staff had made a nightly round to freshen up the mini bar and offer to light a fire in the pit on the veranda. Knowing your night was far from over and you’d very much enjoy more time in the fresh air you accepted the offer, Emily grabbing a couple of the smaller blankets to drape over two of the chairs outside. She heard the shower come to a halt in the other room, followed by the swooshing of the door and sounds of you drying off and searching for clothes.

“Hey, you want a beer or some of this sangria?” She called, picking up a few bottles from the mini bar to examine them.

“Oh my god, beer please. No more sugar or I’m gonna wake up with the world’s worst stomach ache.” You called back, tugging on a pair of pj shorts before finally finding a tank top for under your Georgetown hoodie.

Emily had wandered out onto the patio, cracking both beers and placing one down onto the table for you as she got comfortable by the fire. You came out a few minutes later, one of your hands shaking out your wet hair while your eyes were on a couple of smaller bottles in your other hand.

“How much do you know about hair care?” You asked and Emily huffed out a laugh.

“Boxed dye will destroy it, just let it be natural.”

“So no vote on whether argan or coconut oil is better?”

“No.” She chuckled, taking a swig of her beer.

“Whatever.” You shrugged, dropping the two bottles onto the table before scooping up your beer to take a swig, settling in the chair beside her, a happy sigh leaving your lips at the warmth of the fire. Placing your beer down on the table you slid the hair elastic off your wrist, flipping your head over and gathering all your hair up into a ball.

“Okay, no!” Emily protested, her hand smacking your arm.

“What?” You asked, straightening up as you tightened the band.

“Your hair is soaked and even after washing probably coated with a mix of chlorine and salt, you do that and sleep on it, you’re gonna wake up with it matted so bad it’s practically dreadlocks. At least put it in a braid.”

“It’ll be fine.” You shrugged, “and if I try to braid it it’ll be just as messy.”

Emily gave you a side eye glance, her head tilting in near disappointment, “I’m not dealing with your complaining over knots tomorrow, go find a comb and then come here.”

You shot her a glance but put your beer down to search through the villa while Emily picked up the two bottles of serum, reading through the blurbs on the back before choosing one and you returned to the front of her chair. She pulled a cushion off the spare chair, placing it at her feet as she shifted forward so you could settle on it between her knees.

“Sit.”

You did as she asked, plopping down onto the pillow and handing her the comb as you began to tug the elastic out of your hair. You could already hear Emily grumbling behind you at the harsh way you were treating your hair, her hand quickly wrapping around your wrist to stop your movement, taking the elastic from you to delicately remove it from the already forming knots.

Her fingertips slid up the back of your scalp, softly shaking out your locks, slowly combing through to make sure there were no big knots to be worked through gently before she brushed it with the comb. Emily parted your hair, pulling the comb through it until your hair was smooth and you let out a happy sigh, relaxing further against her.

“You want one or two?” She asked, smoothing back a couple of fly aways with her hand.

“I’ve only got one elastic.” You replied, holding it up and she laughed.

“One it is.”

Moving the comb back through your hair once again she began to style it in preparation for the single braid, gathering pieces of your hair between her fingers as the comb found a home on her lap. Somehow every pass of her fingers matched the rhythm of the waves softly crashing against the sand, drifting underneath your villa. Emily hummed happily, her eyes drifting from your head to the horizon.

“God it’s peaceful out here.”

“Tell me about it.” You replied, a dream-like smile on your cheeks. “And a world better than plates clattering, screaming children, adults yelling and overplayed Christmas music. I can only hear Silver Bells so many times before I want to rip my ear drums out.”

Emily laughed, her fingers slowing to fix a couple pieces of hair, “is it just Christmas you skip out on celebrating or is it all holidays?”

“I think most are useless.” You shrugged, “Halloween’s pretty cool but it kinda loses appeal as you age. First you’re too old to trick or treat, then the parties are all about getting wasted. Thanks to the job I get to be incredibly passionate about the Fourth of July, but fuck celebrating much else, there really isn’t a point. It’s not like I often have the time off to fly home for one single night and lousy dinner anyways.”

“That why you leave the country, avoiding your family?” Emily asked with a smirk you couldn’t see and you were quick with the rebuttal.

“I don’t see you itching to get anywhere to bicker over cold potatoes, under seasoned macaroni and overcooked turkey….”

“You’ve got me there.” She replied, earning a small laugh from you. “When was the last time you were home?”

“Years ago.” You groaned, taking a swig of your beer, “I went back the first couple of years after graduating Georgetown. I no longer had the excuse of full time school to focus on and they said they’d pay for my flight and that I deserved a break.”

“Good old fashioned bribery.”

“Exactly.” Your eyes drifted back to the ocean, watching the way the moonlight was sparkling against the water and felt relief wash over you once again, “as soon as I got to the house I was immediately yelled at because the living room wasn’t clean. Like that was somehow my fault? I understand that yeah, I grew up in that house and was staying in my childhood room, but I hadn’t been home in over seven years, I’d like to think you’d qualify as a house guest at that point.”

Emily dryly laughed again and you could feel her fingertips stroking just over your hairline, the touch soothing you, keeping your heart rate down while you reminisced on the not exactly fantastic holidays.

“I had to make sure my room was clean, despite it being half full of storage and no one was going to be seeing it. I’d get woken up at the crack of dawn and coerced into cleaning, prepping food, cooking and told to be better and go faster, this needed to be a successful Christmas after all. Like, I had nothing to do with planning a far too extensive menu and the entire house was my parent’s mess and I certainly didn’t add a single person to the guest list. We’d go over to a cousin’s house for dinner and everything would be coated with dog hair so why was I tasked with dusting the top of the China cabinet that no one would see?” A huff escaped your lips as your shoulders dropped, the sounds of the ocean soothing through you, your breathing beginning to match the pace of the waves and Emily’s fingers tickled at the back of your neck as she began to scoop up the longer pieces of hair. Your lips curved up into a happy grin, your voice softer when you spoke, “why would I want to be anywhere like that when I could be somewhere like here?”

Your hand gently squeezed at Emily’s ankle and she felt the warmth of your touch slowly spreading through her entire body at the sentiment. Sure, it was very possible you were just referring to the expensive over ocean villa complete with endless drinks and food and a view to die for. But there was a piece of her that just knew you were also alluding to the company, the time spent together and how there was no doubt it made for a superior holiday.

She thought about her own time returning home the few years she did and chuckled sorely, “my job very quickly gave me the excuse to not go home, I remember one year I finally could show up so I figured I owed my mother that much. I got there and the house was full of people, more than half that I didn’t even know. I grabbed a drink, some finger food and was practically ignored by everyone, which I guess made sense as most of them didn’t know me and those that did hadn’t seen me in long enough they didn’t recognize me, or maybe it was that they didn’t know how to treat me like an adult. Everyone else around the house was so much more important than me it didn’t seem to matter, half the time my mother wouldn’t even realize I was there until she found me hiding in the kitchen helping with dishes and she’d shove a drink in my hand, shooing me out of there to go mingle.” Emily reached out, grabbing the hair tie off the table, wrapping it around the end of the now finished braid. Her hand slid over it, making sure there weren’t any lumpy bits before she traced your hairline again, pulling out a couple of shorter pieces, twirling them around her fingers and leaving them to frame your face. She leant forward, hands on your shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, “you’re done.”

Your hand reached up, squeezing at hers as you stood, half turning back to her, “thanks.” You shot her a smile, scooping up your beer before settling into your own lounger.

While neither of you continued to say anything pertaining to your not so great holidays of the past, you knew that the unspoken words were still there. That this was far more enjoyable than any of the previous ones could have ever imagined. That you would much rather have each other by your side over pretending to celebrate on your own back home, warding off invitations and insistence from friends or coworkers to join them in their festivities.

There was no better place to be than a tropical paradise, a cold beer in your hand and the warm salt air wafting from the ocean directly into your home for the week.

__________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @m1lfsh4ke

[shadow4-1]

(Part 2 of this post.)

After letting Soap set everything up, on his next leave of absence, Ghost finally gets to meet the plus size escort he's been having fantasies about.

However, she's only interested in laying down some ground rules.

-

To show he was serious, for their first meeting she made Ghost rent out the smoking section of a privately owned Café. It's a quaint little joint; part bookstore, part coffee shop. Cost him less than two hundred quid for the whole hour. Ghost likes the privacy and the better service - his coffee cup hasn't gone unfilled. He wonders why he's never thought of doing it before. Plus, he can have a fag without someone bothering him about the smell. The booth is in the back of the store, so leaving his face completely uncovered doesn't feel nearly as uncomfortable either.

For anyone else the mask stays on. Well, at least some form of mask. Nowadays, when deep in public territory, he sticks to a surgical mask. Still attracts some curious gazes, but after the new-age plague passed he's been left well enough alone.

Besides, the bird's a civilian through and through. She's probably used to white collar Johns with soft hands and faces. He's decidedly the opposite and doesn't want to scare her off. At a time like this he knows hiding his face would make him seem less trustworthy. She should at least be allowed to see what she's working with. He knows he's not wholly unattractive, but if compared to Soap, well he wouldn't blame her for sticking up her nose. Hell, it'd be no skin off his back.

He's early as per usual. Doesn't want to keep her waiting on him. Time is money and all that. The coffee shop staff seemed relieved at the lack of customers. Behind him, he can hear one of the servers taking an order from a customer. That's when he hears a sound that makes his ears prick up.

The sound of heels against the tile.

Subconsciously, he straightens himself. Consciously, he makes no move to attempt to preen or better his appearance in any way. What she sees is what she gets and vice versa. That's what this meeting is for anyway. It's a time to lay it all on the table.

"Hello."

Her voice is soft and sweet. He releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. When he looks up he's taken off guard by the quality of her facial features. In Johnny's pictures she looked average. But now, he realizes that perhaps the flash really dulled down her beautiful features - mainly her delicious looking lips. He swallows hard at the thought of his cock maybe getting inside that blowjob perfect mouth.

"You must be Simon."

She places down a mid-size purse on the booth seat across from him. She's dressed in business casual - a white button up and some form fitting slacks. Her makeup is subdued, her hair lightly styled. She looks completely natural. Ghost finds she's checking off all the boxes he didn't even realize he had.

She offers her hand and he shakes it. Her nails aren't painted but have a natural sheen and length. And while her palms are soft, her grip is sturdy. It's obvious that she knows how to uphold herself professionally. He already starts to feel good about this impending arrangement.

She introduces herself as a "Miss Care". It's a fake name designed to give her a simple, yet recognizable trait. He supposes her self-chosen moniker isn't far off from a callsign. Not that she'd have any idea what that even is.

"S' a pleasure." He bows his head at her in respect.

He doesn't miss the way she blushes for a second before taking the seat across from him. She opens her mouth to say something, but is rudely interrupted by a server placing a menu down in front of her. At least, he finds it quite rude. She just beams at the server and politely declines the menu. She orders a hot Chai latte with a slice of banana bread. She's obviously a regular at this place. It makes sense she'd chose it as a meeting spot.

The server scurries off, and for a second both he and her take each other in. He admires the softness of her upper body, the curvature of her breasts that are cradled lovingly by her brassiere. She seems to be reading his face, for what he can't say. Whatever she finds she seems to like based on her more confident smile.

"Johnny wasn't lying when he said you're built like a brick shithouse." She giggles.

Despite himself, Ghost can't help the flood of heat to his face. He could throttle that boy. He likes her laugh more than enough to quell that urge though. He finds himself already admiring her confidence to even speak to him like that. He knows he's intimidating.

"If you don't mind me asking," She offers before pausing. He looks at her expectanly, silently urging her to go on. "What are you looking for exactly? Not to be rude but, I'm a little shocked someone as handsome as you would be interested in my services."

A long beat of silence fills the air. It's a bit awkward but Ghost needs a second to think of his response. Not only is he caught off guard by her admonition, but how could he tell this girl he can't find it within himself to build relationship anymore, much less with a woman? Another beat of silence passes and she offers him a sheepish smile.

"Sorry. I-"

"Don't have time for a bird. Jus' looking fer a distraction." He admits, cutting her off. "Johnny talked a big game 'bout ya. Figured I'd give you a shot."

She stutters out a chuckle. His words have caught her off guard. He knows he sounds full of himself. He is full of himself. Her admitting she thinks he's attractive helps alot with his ego.

"Well, has he told you anything about my services other than I'm good at what I do?"

"No."

She goes into her purse and pulls out a semi-thick docket of paper. The headline on top let's him know exactly what it is.

"A rental agreement?" He muses.

"Mhm. I'm sure you're aware my services aren't exactly...legal on their own. So, just to stay on the right side of the law, I make sure my contract states you're renting my villa for the weekends you decide to visit." She says, flipping through the papers. "Besides, you are renting out my villa. It'll be just me and you."

He admires her business plan. A contract like that keeps her from getting scammed, and it has the added benefit of running off losers. Normally, if a John decided not to pay her for her "services" she'd be shit out of luck. This way, she'd be legally able to receive his funds under the guise of being just a landlord.

"Smart."

"Thank you."

She pulls out a pen, uncaps it, then marks on certain lines throughout the packet. She then offers him the pen.

"Wait, sorry."

He places the pen down.

"What experience are you interested in having?"

Ghost just stares at her. He doesn't really understand her question.

"Are you looking for the full girlfriend experience? Or something else?" She asks.

The server comes back with her tea and snack. She thanks them with a bright, beautiful smile Ghost wishes was directed his way. She tries to go for a sip of her hot drink but it's too hot. She licks the foam off her lips with a crinkled nose. Ghost can't help the way his lips quirk up in the corners at the sight.

"Thought that's all you offered." He admits.

"Oh, no, not at all. I offer quite a few services. All vanilla of course." She says as she goes for a piece of banana bread. "The girlfriend experience is the most popular but I can also play the part of a wife, step-sister, or mommy. Most of my clients like to start off our first session with the best friend experience. Just so we can to get used to each other without any weird tension."

Ghost is a bit taken by her straightforwardness. He knew she'd be open and honest, but hearing her talk about what role she'd be willing to play in his sex life makes him swallow hard. He doesn't know what character he wants her to play either. Every fantasy but "mommy" sounds terribly appealing. The "bestfriend" approach does sound like a good place to start. He wants sex, needs sex, but he also knows he himself might not feel the most comfortable to start with it right away.

"Friends first."

She finally gives him that stunning smile. It falters after a moment and she gives him a bit of an apologetic look.

"One last thing before we sign. We've got to go over our boundaries." She says. This time she's finally able to drink her tea. She swallows down the liquid and places it on the table. "What are some of the things you aren't comfortable with me doing."

There's another long beat of silence as Ghost thinks. He really can't think of a damn thing he wouldn't want this fuckable, pretty girl to do for him. He keeps thinking before realizing maybe he's wrong.

"Nothin' anal. N' no kissin'."

She seems confused.

"No kissing? On the mouth or all over?"

He was only thinking about the mouth. Not that he doesn't want to tongue fuck her mouth, but he thinks a degree of separation would be good to start with. The idea that she'd be willing to kiss him other places, well...the it excites him more than it should.

"Just the mouth."

"Okay." She nods. "No anal play and no kissing on the mouth."

She snacks for another moment.

"And you, Love?" He asks.

"Ooh, I like it when you call me that." She blushes again, wiping crumbs off her bottom lip with a napkin.

Ghosts lips quirk up again. He's starting to really like her attitude and sense of humor. And but of course he would. Johnny recommended her.

"Well, my boundaries are as follows:" She begins, her voice even and measured as if she's given this spiel more than enough times. "No choking, no leaving bruises - that includes hickies, no anal without lube or having told me beforehand, and no slurs or degrading names."

Ghost finds her list a little long but he understands it. He feels a bit of righteous fire in his belly at the thought of her Johns pushing her to the point of even having to make those discretions.

"Understood." He nods.

She smiles up at him and then opens the packet again. She points to the already marked lines and has him sign. As he goes along she tells him about each page of the docket. Once everything is signed she hands him a small business card.

"That's the amount for our first session. Please wire the funds to the account listed on the bottom before Friday night at the latest." She says. "If you don't, I won't be able to get everything ready for Saturday."

He nods, taking in the information on the card. Her prices would be exorbitant for a normal man, but Ghost is no normal man. He makes more than enough money to see her every weekend if he wanted to.

"Please don't be late." She taps the section of the card with the time listed. "And make sure you bring a copy of your up to date physical."

Ghost reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out two sheets of paper stapled together. She mulls over the document before grinning at him.

"Well, well, look at you. Already prepared. I think you and I are going to get along just fine." She flirts. She bats her lashes at him and it takes every fiber of his being not to reach over the table and shove his tongue down her throat.

With that she continues to snack on her drink and bread. She offers no more conversation until she's done. Ghost is more than okay with that. He's content to watch her body. He finds he really likes the way her breasts shift with her every breath.

"I'm sure you don't like surprises, so I'll give you an idea on how I schedule my visits. If you want to change anything up let me know." She says. "I'm flexible."

The flirt is not lost on Ghost. He shifts in his seat, feeling heat trickle into his cock. This girl wants to play with him, test his resolve. He hates that it's already cracking.

"When you arrive I'll greet you at the door and bring you inside. I always like to have a meal waiting for you. Afterwards, we can watch TV on the couch together or play some video games? Or I can read to you, if you'd like." She offers. "If you want, I can give you a massage. Or we can always call it a night if you get sleepy. I'll show you my room."

Her excitement is palpable, almost conspiratorial. She sounds like a girl going over her plans for her first sleepover. He supposes she's not far off. It would be their first sleepover. It would also be his first sleepover. He's never had one.

Her excitement is replaced with a nervous smile. It takes Ghost a second to realize why. He didn't realize his facial expression had changed into something a bit more pointed. He curses himself internally, tries to soften his gaze, but the damage has been done.

"If you want to have sex at any time, just say so. The first time around, I usually like for us to get a shower together." She hums. "It'll give me a chance to give you a little onceover before we start. Also, it's just really great foreplay."

While he adores the idea of a sudsy fuck in the shower he also feels like a fool. He's so used to his face being covered he's unused to controlling his facial features. He's used to letting his emotions show because no one can see. He realizes that he needs to be more careful from now on.

"We'll play it by ear." He mutters, his own mood soured. For her credit she doesn't seem to take it to heart.

"Well, no matter what we get into on Saturday I just want to let you know I'm excited." She smiles. "It's been so nice to meet you, Simon."

She tucks the paper docket and the pen back into her purse. She then cleans up her plates and napkins. Just before she readies herself to stand she looks up at him with her pretty little eyes.

"Can I kiss you goodbye on the cheek?"

Her request takes him off guard. He hasn't paid for anything yet. His heart thumps.

"Yeah."

She then stands and leans over the table. Her blouse isn't lowcut but she has enough tits to fill it out. When she leans over he has to stop himself from trying to grope them.

She kisses him sweetly. It's barely a brush of her lips against the rough skin of his cheek. His cock twitches to its full length in his trousers. If he was any farther gone he'd fuck her right there over the dishes.

She smiles down at him, lashes fluttering, purse in hand. She gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"See you Saturday."

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (iii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, cryptids, graveyards

A/N: good evening. i am fighting demons (tummy ache). comments and feedback are always appreciated thank u for the love on the series so far i adore u guys sm <;33

Previous part || Series masterlist

A few days after the first video goes up, Bucky returns from his run to a SHIELD file taped to his door.  

He opens to a black and white photo of him from back in the day, and a page full of his details. Full name, blood group, previous addresses, aliases, best colours to match his undertone, favourite Gilmore Girl boyfriend. 

He flips the page to the section on his known connections, only for a sheet of paper to fall out. Sharpie sprawled haphazardly across it, in big red letters. 

NO AUNT. 

BITCH.

He bites back a grin.

The video does reasonably well. Not record breaking numbers or anything, but for once there aren’t TikToks of people counting how many times he blinks to make sure he’s an actual human. 

Always a man of his word, though he has regretted it every single time, he agrees to a second video. It follows after a disgraceful bout of bitching and even pleading, but a few hours later, he resigns himself to his fate silently. 

That is until the schedule for the next video shoot is posted to the server, and he sees it’s at night. 

The night he uses to sleep. The night.

Before he can even type out his rejection, his door receives four sharp knocks. He doesn’t even need to open it to know who it was.  

It’s like you could read his thoughts. Probably could. He doesn’t know the extent of your telekinesis. 

In your hands is a large cardboard box and on your face is a stupidly big grin. 

“Good evening,” you greet. 

“Tell me the show’s getting cancelled,” he says. 

“Nope. We–” you announce, reaching into the box and shoving something onto his chest, “--are going on a trip. Demon hunting.”

“Demon hunting?” 

“To Westley Cemetery,” you add, letting the box tumble onto the floor as you grip its contents. “To catch the Westley Cemetery Cryptid.”

“What the hell is the Westley Cemetery Cryptid?” Bucky demands.

“Creature that lives in the cemetery, watches people from the trees and runs after you if you’re there too long. No known kills, but a couple of scratches and spooks,” you list off. 

His face twists. “That’s not a real thing.”

“Uh, yes it is.” You rest a hand on your hip. “My sources told me so.”

“Who are your sources?”

“Twitter.”

Bucky stares at you without a word.

“It’s totally real. It’s got a Wikia page and everything,” you argue against his complete silence. “I believe in it.”

“That means nothing.”

“Rude.” You glare pointedly. “Anyway, point is, we’re going out tonight to the cemetery and we’re gonna catch this thing on tape.”

Bucky tracks your gaze to finally look down at what you’ve shoved into his hands. It’s a headband, with two cameras attached to it, one facing your face and the other outward. Night vision, he guesses. 

He sighs. “How long? An hour?” 

“Was Hamlet written in an hour? Was Sharknado filmed in an hour?” you exclaim. “Great art takes time. We’re staying out there as long as we need to. So help me, we will emerge victorious.”

Bucky stares at you. “Two hours.”

“Seven.”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Your will is weak and your spirit is cowardly.” You return his fixed look with equal intensity, if not more, which he didn't think was possible. “Three hours.”

“Deal.”

“Great.” You stick your hand out, and he grabs on firmly. “See you at 1am.”

“1am?!”

It is 1am, it is cold and Bucky is miserable. 

But he’s there. In the cemetery. With the stupid camera rig on his head. 

You offer him whiskey to warm him up, and he agrees. 

You then tell him you don’t actually have any because you didn’t think he’d accept.

He hates it here.

The wind whistles around the both of you. The eerie silence is only compounded by the fact that he can’t see anything beyond a certain point. The night is especially dark and there is no moonlight.

He trudges through the patchy grass, dry leaves crunching under his boots.

The camera being so close to his face along with the fact that you wouldn’t stop singing the same three fucking lines of the song over and over again, makes him want to tear his hair out.

“That thing’s not gonna get near us if you don’t shut up,” he grumbles.

“Nonsense,” you hum. “I’m a goddamn delight. He’s gonna be trippin’ over himself to get to me.”

“He doesn’t exist.”

“He definitely does, and you know what? I bet your shit vibes are gonna attract him. Moth to flame and all that. Karmic justice.” 

Bucky stares straight ahead, swerving to avoid running into cracked tombstones. 

You go back to singing, but worse this time. 

“What if we don’t get anything?” he interrupts, to protect his sanity. “No one wants to watch a bunch of people just walk around the dark for 20 minutes.”

There’s no response. 

It takes a second for Bucky to realise the singing’s stopped too.

He stops in his tracks, head swivelling to look for you.

“The fuck…” he mutters. 

In the cemetery, he is truly alone for a moment. Silent, other than wrought iron gates creaking in the far distance. 

The leaves of the tree above him rustle.

Bucky looks up, squinting against the darkness. 

Against the stillness of the night, he sees it. A figure stands tall on the branches of the tree, silhouette obscured by the leaves. 

It leers down at him, unmoving.

Bucky doesn’t even flinch.

“Very funny,” he says. “Hilarious.”

“We’ll fake it,” the figure calls from above. “If we don’t get any footage, I’ll just get on up there and fuck around and you record.”

“Get down,” he demands. “We’re not faking footage.”

If this show had to die this way, so be it.

“Bore,” you boo, lowering yourself to the ground with ease. “If I didn't know any better, I’d say you don’t want to be a part of this series.”

“I don’t.”

“Anyway,” you say obnoxiously, “we won’t have to. There is definitely a cryptid here. I can feel it in my bones.”

“We’re halfway through the graveyard and there’s nothing here,” he shoots back. “We should call it quits.”

“You’re right,” you say, to his surprise. “We need to cover more ground. Let’s split up.”

That is most definitely not what he was saying.

But you start singing again and so Bucky agrees faster than you finish the same stupid third line for the hundredth time that hour.

Bucky is a man of dignity.

Less than five minutes later, he gives up.

He takes a seat against the trunk of a tall tree, in a relatively open clearing. 

He figures if he just takes a nap then the two hours would pass by quicker. 

Bucky has no idea where you’ve gone. The lack of light doesn’t help, even with his advanced vision. 

He crosses his arms behind his head and settles back, eyes closing. 

Not even a second later, he wants to rip his hair out when the stupid song you were singing reintroduces itself in his head.

“For fuck’s sake,” he groans. 

The tree he’s leaning against shifts ever so slightly.

His eyes fly open, but he doesn’t move an inch.

Instinctually, his breathing slows and his ears tune in to pick up even the faintest sounds.

The draft whispers, and he knows for a fact that something is above him.

A branch cracks. 

“Go away,” Bucky says loudly. 

A second passes. 

And then another. 

“You’re supposed to be looking for the thing,” you shout.

“It’ll find me if it wants to.” He shifts to make himself more comfortable. “I’m givin’ him a real shot here.” 

“You didn’t even look up.”

“Didn’t have to.”

“He could have been above you.”

“But he wasn’t.” Bucky’s eyes close again. 

“You’re terrible.” It comes back muffled, and branches shift. “I’m headin’ that way. One of us has to put some effort into this.”

“Joy. Knock yourself out.”

The trunk moves under his muscles again and Bucky lets out a small exhale, settling back into the position he was in.

Until he hears you singing in the distance. Same three lines, same off-key tune.

Bucky drags his palm across his face. 

An hour passes. 

Unlike his original plan, he does not sleep.

He instead recounts every element he remembers from the periodic table. 

Replays every Dodgers game from his childhood, and then gets mad at their shift. 

Then he tries to recollect every fact he knows about you so far. Mutant, captured and experimented on, broke free several years before him. Met Nat along the way and befriended her. Telekinesis, slowed aging. Escape artist. Wedding videographer. Allegedly.

He just doesn’t get how you’re so goddamn chirpy all the time, given that he’d been through something similar and come out the way he had. 

It had taken him a month to say anything to anyone other than Steve. You went out for brunch with Sam the same weekend you showed up at the compound.

He doesn’t get you.

Speaking of which, he hasn’t actually seen you in a while. 

He checks the time on his watch. Nearly 3am.

He had a fucking workout in the morning and no lizard-man was going to be the cause for Steve outrunning him.

He pushes himself off the ground with a groan, and stretches out his sore limbs. Definitely too old for lying around a cemetery beyond midnight.

He calls out your name loudly, and then again, before waiting. 

He hears bells ringing in the distance. 

Bucky looks up.

In the shadows of the trees, he comes face to face with the same sight as before. A figure, standing on the branches.  

“There’s nothing here,” he calls out, sighing. “Can we just leave?”

The twigs creek, and for a second he thinks you’re going to fall. 

“Already told you I’m not faking footage, get down from there,” he repeats. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you at the gate.”

The leaves shuffle around before he hears branches break. 

Something you say gets obscured by your movement, but you disappear again. He thinks that maybe you were cursing him out, and deservedly so. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

He rolls his eyes, but starts making his way to the entrance of the graveyard.

The walk back is faster, and he holds back a yawn as the gates start creeping up on the horizon. 

There’s no sign of you. He half thinks you ditched him here and went back to the compound. Or fell off the tree and were just laying there. 

But he decides to wait, leaning against the exposed concrete wall. 

Eyes closed, he rubs his temples and decides that if you’re not here in the next thirty seconds, he’ll just–

“Hey,” you greeet from right in front of him.

“Where the hell did you go?” he demands. 

You blink at him, before holding up a wrapper. 

“Got a sandwich. I was hungry. The diner was real nice too, I spent like half an hour talkin’ to the owner.”

He stares at you. “You just left to get a sandwich?”

“Yeah, and I got you one, too,” you reply, tossing him a paper bag. “You’re welcome. God bless that man, but those things aren’t cheap.”

“You’ve not been here for the last half hour?”  

“I mean, I spent like ten minutes looking.” You shrug, taking another bite. “All I got was a bunch of grass.”

Ten minutes. Bucky had sat under the stupid tree for an hour. 

“So you just left,” he says dryly.

“Yes,” you reply like it’s not even worth debating. “Besides, if anyone could find a cryptid it’d be you. A fellow cryptid.”

Bucky spins on his heel to leave.

“You’re welcome for dinner,” you call out, and he can hear you laugh.

He flips you the finger, and regrets it a second later when your singing resumes.

The sandwich is good. He appreciates it.

He even manages to keep pace with Steve the next morning. 

What he doesn’t appreciate is coming back to fifteen missed calls and four video calls from you.

From: co-host (TGS)

can you pick up 

From: co-host (TGS)

i know you have nothing going on in your life you are bitchless

Bucky switches off his phone for the next three hours. 

Finally, it’s a threat that you will show up at his door again and Bucky finally video calls you back that evening. 

“What,” he states.

“Took you long enough,” you huff, sitting up to adjust the camera. In the middle of the ordeal, Bucky sees your laptop open.

“What do you want?” he repeats.

“The team sent over the videos from last night,” you tell him. “At some point in the video you said ‘we’re not faking footage, get down from there.”

“Yeah.”

He hears you play the footage faintly in the background, almost to substantiate your point. He cringes at the sound of his own voice.  

“Who were you talking to?” 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Heard you in the trees. Figured you climbed up there again.”

“Ah.” You click your tongue. “Interesting.”

“What.”

You hum. “See, that wasn’t me.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Yes, it was.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you say calmly. “I’d left to get dinner way before all that.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious. Got the timestamp on my video to prove it.” You look up at him through the camera finally. “So who were you actually talking to, Barnes?”

Bucky’s nose twitches.

“Bye,” he says shortly.

“Dude,” he hears you laugh loudly through the phone. “I fuckin’ told you you’d attract these things, you–”

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