#wine delivery apps

[warehousepackagestore]

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[katsu28]

slow down, be here

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: after a long, frustrating day of training, a night in with you is just what lando needs to leave it all in his rearview mirror (2.4k)

warnings: teensy but of swearing, reader is in university but major is unspecified, lando being a certified menace

a/n: i was gonna post this sometime next week but the lando girlies (aka me) need some comfort after today's shitshow. may or may not have been entirely inspired by that video of lando in the white singlet. that look (however fleeting) did things to me okay

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter when you hear Lando’s key in the door, one leg drawn up towards your chest, the other swinging aimlessly as you revise your notes last minute. 

Well, more specifically, when you hear him drop his keys on the floor in search of the correct one right before he inserts it into the lock. You’ve loved him and lived with him long enough to know it’s something he does everyday without fail. Whether it’s because he’s got clumsy hands or he’s Pavloved himself into dropping them at the same spot, you don’t think too much about it. The key drop signals that Lando is home. 

What also signals that he’s home is the way he lets out the strangest sound you’ve ever heard as he lets the door swing shut behind him after he’s let himself in—something between a sigh and a whine mixed with a guttural groan. 

“In here!” You call, taking the cap of your pen out from between your teeth. It only takes a few seconds until Lando emerges from the hallway, socked feet dragging himself towards where you’re sitting with a soft smile aimed at his rumpled state. “Hi, love.” 

He plops down on the stool next to you unceremoniously, hooking his foot under the bar of yours to tug you as close as possible to him on instinct. His chin finds the dip between your neck and shoulder to nestle into, and the deflating sigh he lets out once he’s situated himself to his liking sends a shiver through you. “Hi.” He mumbles, voice muffled. 

“Heard you’ve had quite a day.” You stroke a hand over his curls, smoothing them away from his forehead gently. Oscar had shot you a heads up text a little bit before Lando had arrived, saying that Lando might seem a bit put out when he got home. Something about a handful of tests not going the way they wanted, strategies not working out the way they planned. It sounds like enough to drive anyone crazy, but Lando is the type of person to take things especially hard. 

Lando lets out a vague sound of acknowledgement. You can tell he’s exhausted and frustrated, and you know exactly what he needs to wind down after days like these. “I’ll order takeaway for dinner. You go shower. It’ll probably be here by the time you finish up.” 

He gives a more content sigh this time, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. The tips of his hair tickle your cheek as he does so. “You’re a gem, darling.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You tease, pushing him away playfully. He’s smiling big at you when you meet his gaze, something beyond fondness behind his eyes despite the tiredness as he does. “What?” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too, stinky. Now go. Wash up before I make an executive decision and order sushi.” 

That gets your boyfriend scrambling to his feet fast, aiming a horrified look your way as he books it down the hallway. “You monster!” 

You chuckle quietly, busying yourself with finding Lando’s favorite Italian spot on your delivery app. Soon enough, the food is ordered and all you have to do now is wait.  

Lando reemerges from the bedroom just as you pull open the front door to grab the food from the delivery person. He figures you’ve got it handled by the way you’re chatting nicely with them, so he busies himself with drinks. 

There’s a bottle on top of the fridge that looks vaguely fancy, and though Lando doesn’t know much about wine, Charles had gifted him the bottle a while ago for his birthday. He trusts Charles’ taste. 

He does his best to sound out the French on the label and shrugs, snagging two wine glasses to go along with it. By the time he finishes pouring a generous amount in each glass, you’ve just closed the door, joining him in the kitchen with a massive bag of food. His brows fly into his hairline at the sight. 

You twist your lips to the side in thought, wrinkling your nose as you study the bulging paper bag. “I might’ve ordered too much.” 

“Good thing I always rise to the occasion.” 

You glance up at him, setting it down on the counter in favor of sidling over to where he is, not even fighting the smitten grin stretching your lips as you maneuver yourself between him and the marble. 

His curls are damp, messily towel ruffled and starting to frizz as they air dry. He already looks more at ease, comfier than ever in a pair of loose black sweatpants and a white singlet. You make a mental note to remind him to wear white more. It makes his tan skin glow, and it makes you not want to take your eyes off him. 

Your fingers skate along the exposed skin of his chest, stopping once to push into those dimples in his cheeks that you love so much before moving up to link around the back of his neck. His hands find their way to your waist at the same time, sliding coyly under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare skin. 

In one fell swoop, you’re up on the counter, Lando nudging his way between your knees. He kisses you languidly, like he has all the time in the world to explore your mouth; long, slow kisses mixed in with brief pecks until you’re all but melting against him. He’s familiar and solid under your touch, all flexing muscle and warm skin as your hands run along his arms. 

After a while, Lando’s focus shifts to trailing open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. On instinct, you tilt your head to give him more space to work and he takes it gladly, focusing on that one spot just below your ear that he knows for a fact works on you every time. 

You sigh appreciatively at the pressure of his lips against your skin, the way his teeth nip at that sweet spot but his tongue sneaks out to soothe the sting just as quick. 

Your fingers dig into his biceps as he continues his venture, but when he starts kissing along your shoulder, you squeeze a little harder. As much as you want to continue this, you remember you’ve got food waiting for both of you. He stops immediately, perfect lips pouted, eyes wide when he comes back up to gauge your reaction. 

“Eat first, kiss later.” You explain, peeling him off you (albeit a bit reluctantly) before hopping off the countertop. He whines something unintelligible as you unload the food, but as soon as you push a container of his favorite pasta towards him, he seems to forget his disappointment. 

The silence as you eat is comfortable, both of you seemingly more hungry than you thought you were as the food and wine begin to disappear. All the while, the space between the two of you grows smaller and smaller, until your elbows start to bump each other with each bite you take. 

You’ve mastered the art of enjoying each other’s company without having to say a word. 

“Were you revising earlier? When I came home?” He asks after a while, jabbing his fork in the direction of your notes. A few strands of pasta splatter onto the counter with the action and you tsk, nudging him with your foot. The last thing you want is sauce all over your papers. 

“Yeah, I was. Just some final practicing, see if anything needs tweaking before I have to present my thesis.” 

“I’m sure it’s perfect. You’ve been working on it for ages.” 

You spear a chunk of tomato with your fork, dragging it around in the sauce aimlessly. “I dunno. Everything is there, but it still feels like something’s missing.” 

“Present it to me.” 

“What?” 

“Pretend I’m the university board, or whatever, and present it to me. Maybe you’ll figure out what’s missing if you act like it’s the real thing.” 

“Really? You’d do that for me?” 

Lando scoffs, looking offended. “Baby, I’d do anything for you. Go on, do your little scholar thing for me. I’ll be the best fake board you’ve ever seen.” You gnaw on your lip, unsure. The idea seems silly, but it’ll probably work. “C’mon, bub. You’ve got a genius brain up there in that pretty head of yours, let me see it in action.” 

“Okay. Okay, fine, but you can’t be mean! You have to be nice, ‘cause I’m already freaking the fuck out about having to present next week and I don’t think I can deal with—” 

“First of all, I’m never mean to you. Second of all, get the fuck up there before I take my offer back.” 

You stick your tongue out at Lando whilst you grab your papers at the other end of the counter, feigning swatting him with them as he bounces his way over to the couch. He settles in right smack dab on the middle cushion, grabbing a pillow to hug while you do a quick once over of everything. Then you’re ready. 

You stumble through your introduction a little bit, but the words start flowing a few sentences into the body of your research—days, weeks, months of work having burned them straight into your brain. The longer you talk, the more comfortable you become, which gives you the confidence to set aside your notes for once. Part of you feels like you’re about to clam up and forget everything any second now, but you don’t. You forge on like you were born to. 

All that comes to a halt when you hasten a glance over at Lando, who’s staring at you without a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of his, smiling goofily at you. 

“Lando!” You whine, pouting. “Have you even heard a word I’ve said?” 

Lando blinks a few times like he’s coming back down to Earth, letting a sheepish grin creep its way across his face. “Not really.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’m sorry! You just look really pretty when you talk about things you’re passionate about. It’s hard to focus on words when I look at you.” 

Well, you can’t exactly be mad at him when he’s sweet like that. Besides, you didn’t think he’d understand half of what you were saying anyways, and you’ve found the answer to your problems. Nothing was missing. Lando was right, you’re fully prepared for your thesis presentation. You just needed to get your nerves out of the way. 

“Worst fake board ever.” You huff. 

“But I just said you look pretty!” 

You prop a hand on your hip. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.” 

“Oh yeah? Nowhere, really?” He rises from his seat, creeping towards you with that glint in his eyes you know far too well. You know what he’s about to do, and you’re about ready to make a run for it. 

He bridges the gap between the two of you faster than you think possible, catching you around the waist right before you can make your great escape down the hallway, hoisting you off your feet with ease despite your wriggling around like a fish out of water, and hauling you over to the couch. He tosses you over the back of it just as easily, following suit before you can scramble away. 

Realistically, you should've anticipated the whip fast reflexes of a professional racing driver. Having a faster reaction time than the average person is part of the job description. 

“Lando, no!!!” You squeal, already breaking into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. 

“Maybe flattery won’t get me anywhere, but I know what might!” He pins you down against the cushions with your knees clamped between his own as he digs his fingers into your sides viciously, ignoring your pleas in favor of grinning wickedly. 

“I give up! I give up, please—” You gasp, squirming under his relentless torture. One of his hands comes up to pin both your wrists down easily, probably so you don't punch him in the face trying to escape. (You’ve done it once before, purely by accident, but Lando’s never let you forget it.) 

“Say that you love me.” 

“You already know I do!” 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He insists, jabbing you in the side threateningly. 

You shake your head frantically. You’re near tears at this point, stomach hurting from laughing so much. There’s no point in dragging it out any longer, especially when sweet, sweet freedom is as easy as telling the love of your life that you love him. “I love you!” 

“What was that?” He tilts his head, brows raising expectantly. 

“I love you, Lando Norris.” You repeat, as steady as you can despite your breathlessness. That seems to satisfy him. 

He gives it up entirely, wedging himself between you and the back of the couch, making himself comfortable as you try to catch your breath. You roll over onto your side so you’re facing him, allowing him more space to nuzzle against you. “You’re a dickhead.” 

“I’m your dickhead, and you love me.” He replies smugly, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His arms worm their way underneath you and link up behind your back, legs tangling with yours. At this point, you’re not sure where you end and he begins, which is just the way Lando always likes it. 

“Against my better nature, I do.” You sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. He hums sleepily, exhaling in deep comfort. “I’m sorry you had a rough go of it today.”

“S’fine. Nothing you’ve got to be sorry about. You’ve already made it better.” He mumbles. He already sounds like he's about to drift off.

“D’you want to talk about it?” 

Lando lifts his head to look up at you, blinking slowly. He offers you a small smile. “Not really. Just wanna lay here with you and forget about it all.” 

“Okay.” You say softly. 

You might not be able to help him with everything in life, but this, you can do. You thread one hand through his hair, smoothing through his curls in that one way you know he loves. Your other hand comes up around his back, fingers scratching a gentle path up and down his spine. 

If Lando was a cat, he’d be purring right now. 

Instead he opts for an appreciative groan, pushing his nose back into the warm nook he’d created. His lips press against your skin—once, twice, a third time for good measure. “Thank you.” 

Whether he’s thanking you for scratching his back or for just being here for him on the days he feels like he’s not at his best, you’re not sure, but either way you give him a tight squeeze and another kiss in lieu of a response. 

You’ll do anything if it means making sure he knows you’ve always got him. 

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[mochacoda]

[teaser] drizzle | ljh

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Lately, you’ve been plagued with two issues. The first is endless rain. The second is your mysterious, mask-clad neighbor, who’s up to some shady business in the apartment next door.

Content: Fluff | Neighbors to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers

Tags: producer!woozi, this isn’t about rain, slowburn, who are you? -> awkward meetings -> falling in love, major loser!woozi allegations, red everywhere, singles inferno is mentioned, drinking, bestfriend!seokmin, hoshi wingmans, konglish w/ translations, no "y/n,” this is for all u 2nd place poll voters <3

Word Count: 10K (full)

Release Date: February 13

Masterlist

가랑비에 옷 젖는 줄 모른다.

In a drizzle, you don’t notice your clothes getting wet. The light rain just softly comes down, tickling your hair, your nose, your lips. Preoccupied by the beautiful storm that is life, you don’t realize until you look down. Then, and only then, do you finally see that your clothes are soaking wet. They’re plastered to your body, and there’s no reversing it. 

────୨ৎ──── Day 1

It’s raining. As you track the tiny drops falling before your eyes, you decide that it’s not exactly a fine mist, but also not a full on downpour. It’s in a frustrating in-between state—do you make a run for it, or will that just end up with you walking into work completely soaked? 

Utterly jacket- and umbrella-less, you restlessly tap a hand against your hips. You stare blankly at the half-filled parking lot where your car lies, waiting. 

Waiting for what, you don’t really know. A break in the rain? A call from your boss, telling you that it’s fine not to come in today? As seconds of your silent contemplation turn into minutes, you’re increasingly sure that both are equally unlikely.  

Upon that conclusion, you cross your arms and hug your torso tightly. Surely, even if you miscalculate the severity of the rain, the consequences of 30 seconds in whatever weather this is can’t be that bad. 

Then again, you’re wearing a white blouse today, and that isn’t the best combination with the rain. Would it be career suicide to go in wearing a wet, see-through top? You shudder at the implications of a HR charge. Plus, you’re wearing your favorite ruby red scarf, and you’d hate even more to get nasty rain water on it.

“Excuse me?” A voice suddenly comes from behind you.

When you turn, your eyes widen. A dark-haired, mask-clad man dressed in workout clothes stands before you. In his outstretched hand is a red umbrella.

“You can have it,” he says, shaking the handle of the umbrella.

“Oh,” you say, taken aback by this stranger’s kindness. “Thank you?”

You gratefully take the umbrella with two hands, your fingers lightly brushing against his. The warmth of his hand is fleeting, since he withdraws quickly. 

He nods once at you before shuffling to the curb, right underneath the edge of the cement awning that demarcates the safety of your apartment building from the shifty winds and rain in the parking lot. There, he tugs on the zipper of his hoodie, then dashes out into the street without so much as a second glance at you.

Processing his random kind gesture, a wave of gratitude rises within you. Does he live in this building? If you see him again, you’ll have to remember to give his umbrella back to him. 

────୨ৎ──── Day 4

It’s Friday night, which means that you have a date with cheap wine and the latest episodes of a mindless reality TV show that your friend Seokmin recommended. 

Yawning, you stretch your arms, feeling the fabric of your couch graze your fingertips. You were thinking of buying some throw pillows to make your new apartment feel cozier, but you haven’t gotten around to it. 

“Tomorrow,” you say to yourself, under the rationale that saying it out loud will lodge it into your memory. 

Ding! 

Your phone chimes with a notification, probably from the delivery app you’ve used to order the drinks. A quick glance at the pop-up, and it's confirmed. 

Smiling, you put your phone in your back pocket, and, in your fuzzy house slippers, pad over to the front of your apartment. You unlock the latch to the door and open it eagerly, ready to thank the driver. 

Only, no one is there. In fact, nothing is there. 

Frowning, you peek your head out into the hallway, just in case you can catch the deliverer on their way out. Seeing no one, you purse your lips. 

Maybe the driver just placed it in the lobby? 

Pulling your phone out, instead of just looking at the notification, you actually open the app itself. You squint at the image the driver posted of the complete delivery. The package lies in front of a familiar scene. A brown door, off-white doorbell, gold lettering detailing apartment number 317, grey carpet in the hallway—it definitely is your building, at the very least. 

Could one of your neighbors have just… stolen the two $6 bottles of wine you’d ordered? You scoff, finding the thought mildly funny. If someone did steal it, they were in for a surprise. It wasn’t cheap for no reason; to put it nicely, it’s an acquired taste, for sure.

As you zoom in and out of the image, it suddenly occurs to you that something is off. There isn’t a mat in front of the door to the apartment—the “WELCOME HOME” mat Seokmin had bought for you as a joke. 

Your head jolts to look at the plaque next to your front door. In gold, the number 319 stares back at you. 

Well, 317 definitely isn’t 319.

You raise your phone, comparing the door pictured on the delivery app to the one across the hall from you. Identical. 

You shake your head. Of course! You hadn’t considered that the delivery driver might have accidentally delivered the wine to your neighbor, rather than someone on your floor having stolen it. Really, you ought to have more faith in humanity.

Shrugging your shoulders, you walk down the hallway to 317, then raise your fists. 

You knock three times, then wait for a response. 

Nothing. 

Pursing your lips, you try the doorbell. The chime rings faintly through the wall, so it definitely works.

Is it possible that your neighbor accepted the wine, and then immediately left the apartment? Or, no way—did they actually steal your wine? Is that why they’re not responding?

Huffing, you knock again and say, “Excuse me? I’m, uh, your neighbor, 319? Did you happen to get a wine bottle, by any chance?”

Silence. 

Your hands fidget with the hem of your red oversized graphic t-shirt as you stand in the hallway, talking to a door. You shut your eyes. Just your luck. Seokmin is about to come over, and you’re all out of wine. What fun is Dating Show Night without a little buzz? 

You weakly continue, “Or, uh, two bottles, to be exact? I think the driver delivered them to your apartment instead of mine. By accident?” 

If your life was a comedy show, a cricket backtrack would start playing right now.

You sigh. Looks like 12 dollars is going down the drain. 

But just as you turn in your fuzzy slippers to trudge back to your apartment, a voice suddenly comes through the door to 317. It’s slightly muffled, but you can hear it just fine. It’s a nice voice—deep, somewhat melodic.

“You’re my neighbor?”

“Oh! Yeah,” you eagerly say, brightening at finally getting a response. You wait for the door to open, hands itching to collect your package. 

“Sorry, did you say it was wine?” 

“Oh! Yeah?” 

“I have it,” comes 317’s clipped response.

“Oh, great.” You press your lips together, waiting for a response, only to hear utter silence again.

Isn’t this about the time that your neighbor should just offer to hand it over? You’re not sure how to ask for your rightful package without sounding accusatory. It also occurs to you that your neighbor still strangely has yet to open his door. Is it really normal not to open the door when you’re speaking to someone, especially a neighbor? 

Then again, it is your first time living in this apartment. Maybe you’re not accustomed to the way people are in this building? But regardless, isn’t it generally a bit rude, or at the very least, weird? 

Or, maybe you’re thinking too much of the worst in people again. He might have a bad cold, for example! Maybe he doesn’t want to keep the door open for too long out of courtesy for your health.

After waiting for a few somewhat embarrassing seconds, you give up hoping he’ll take the hint. “Could you, uh, please give it to me?”

“Yeah, just a sec,” says your mysterious hidden neighbor.

It’s an immediate response, which makes your eyebrows shoot up in anticipation. 

Some shuffling can be heard through the door, squashing those expectations. You’re in for more waiting, it seems. Is 317 a serial killer or something, hiding evidence of crimes scattered throughout his living room? Or maybe he’s an old man, hobbling on a crutch to bring your package to you. What could possibly be taking this long? 

Tapping your foot, you lean against the doorframe of your neighbor’s apartment, until you hear the movement inside suddenly stop. 

Curious, you lean in closer to the door. 

All of a sudden, it swings open, nearly taking you inside his apartment with it!

“시—” you gasp, a curse nearly slipping your mouth, before you realize that you’re at your neighbor’s mercy right now, and that cursing isn’t exactly the best look if he’s a frail, old person.

When you regain balance, you look up from the hallway carpet to greet the wine thief, only to see a young man. 

His pale face is heavily obscured by a mess of dark hair and a black mask. You can make out hints of his eyes through his bangs, but not much else of his facial features. 

He’s wearing a black muscle tee that exposes his defined biceps, with a matching set of sweatpants, and you involuntarily swallow at the sight of him. 

Your heart skips a beat, like your subconscious recognizes him from somewhere. 

“Oh, sorry,” you blurt, cheeks heating from being caught eavesdropping on whatever he was doing inside the privacy of his own home. You draw your hands together apologetically.

317 shifts on his feet, keeping his hand partially on the door. Your face heats up as you feel his slightly shrouded gaze trace your figure. Maybe your red Tom and Jerry shirt and fuzzy slippers aren’t the best clothes to wear for your first impression with a direct neighbor. 

“Your wine?” He holds out a bag you recognize to be from your local convenience store.

You scramble to collect it from him, fingers grazing his hand lightly. He stalls slightly before letting go, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your wide eyes. 

“Thank you. Have a nice night?” Your free hand goes up in a stiff wave before you walk a few feet over to the front door of your apartment, mentally groaning at whatever disaster that social exchange was.

Your apartment beeps as you enter the code for the electronic lock, and you shuffle back inside your living room with your prize. For some reason, as you think about what it took to get the bag safely tucked in the crook of your other arm, the corners of your lips lift. 

Sure, your neighbor might be a little weird, but at least you made it out with your wine!

────୨ৎ──── Day 5

Birds are singing cheerfully by your window, calling you outside. It’s a surprisingly bright morning, considering that the past few days have been rather gloomy with the rain. 

Rolling off your bed, you get up and roll your neck, stretching the stiffness from your muscles. Your head pangs lightly, but the hangover isn’t too bad, all things considered. Glancing at the clock, you see that it’s around 10am. 

Dating Show Night is always fun, but this time around, the personalities played on screen were so obnoxious you couldn’t stop laughing, even screaming at the ridiculousness of some scenes. Honestly, what kind of person has the lack of self-awareness to say that people calm down in arguments just by staring at his handsome face? Before long, you and Seokmin had downed one and a half bottles—a record in your history of binge-watching nights. 

Shaking your head with fondness at your memories from last night, you quickly go through your morning routine, then grab a tote bag with your essentials inside. As you put on your cute red tennis shoes, you muse over the errands you’ll have to run today.

Your main goal is to furnish your apartment with decorations; it doesn’t look lived in just yet. In comparison to your old place, the cool-toned lights and lack of personalized knick-knacks lying around makes your new home look almost sterile. So, on the list are some pillows and throw blankets for your couch, and an antique lamp or two to add some warm light to your bedroom and the living room—actually, maybe some warm-toned bulbs as well to replace the cool-toned existing ones. Plus, at some point, you should also get groceries.

Content with your plan, you sling your bag over your shoulders and open the front door. Then, you see a letter-sized piece of white paper just lying on your welcome mat. 

Furrowing your brows, you bend down to pick it up, expecting an advertisement for a restaurant nearby or some other service. 

But to your surprise, the paper is a handwritten note?

To the resident of 319,

Could you please keep the noise down after 10PM? 

Best,

Your neighbor 317

You press your lips together, eyes flitting over to the door labeled 317, then back to the note. 

Were you really that loud? You press your lips together, picturing your neighbor’s mask. Sure, you and Seokmin might have gotten a little carried away, pointing and yelling at your TV, but it’s not like you were throwing a rave in your tiny living room. 

You probably could’ve accepted 317’s complaint if he had suggested a more reasonable time. Come on, 10pm? The man was hiding some serious grandpa sleeping habits behind his fear of spreading his cold to other people. 

Besides, who even writes noise complaints these days? It’s practically medieval! He could have just told you in person, considering that he lives right next door. 

“Ha,” you huff, folding the note up and dropping it into your tote bag. 

Your eyes narrow at your neighbor’s front door. This isn’t the worst thing to happen to you on a Saturday morning, but it is pretty annoying. If his proposed quiet hours started at midnight, you’d be more willing to adhere to the noise complaint, but why should you have to be quiet at 10pm? You weren’t even that loud, anyway.

Slightly annoyed at your new neighbor, you decide that if you run into him in the hallway, you’ll have to confront him about the note. 

You close the front door and march out, determined to channel your energy into finding good decor.

A few hours of thrifting later, and you’ve filled the trunk of your car to the brim with a myriad of different little decorations and bulbs. Analyzing the lack of space left, you decide that your groceries will just have to ride in the passenger seat next to you. 

You pull your stuffed car into the parking lot of your local market, your last stop before returning home. Stepping out, you make your way inside the store. 

It’s bustling when you arrive, the aisles filled with people stocking up for the week. You grab a cart and start weaving through the fresh produce section, your mind still half on the note. It’s not that you’re mad, exactly. You’re not really upset, just a bit miffed that 317 had to be so dramatic with his request. It was basically archaic!

But something about him just makes your thoughts linger on him, and you don’t even know his name. 

Humming a random tune under your breath, you stare at some cartons of strawberries and blackberries, and they stare right back at you. Adding a pack of both into your cart, you roll it over to the greens section. 

You scan the produce for sugar snap peas, but it seems that another customer clad in a dark hoodie and sweats is standing with a large cart in front of them. 

Unmoving.

You drum your hands on your hips, waiting impatiently for the person to finish deliberating. Then, he turns his face to look left, and you catch a glimpse of his black mask—a very familiar black mask.

You nearly don’t recognize him at first, but the hair gives it away. Long, black, messy waves. 

Your heart jolts. Suddenly, your previous desire to confront him has evaporated. Should you ask him about the noise complaint? Or should you carefully back away, pretending like you didn’t see him? 

Lucky for you, you don’t have the chance to run away, because he turns around with a pack of cherry tomatoes, and makes direct eye contact with you. 

“Funny seeing you here, Mr. 317,” you blurt lamely.

His eyes widen above the edge of his mask. “Hi. 319?”

You nod. “Could you, uh…” You sweep your hands to the left, requesting that he move so that you can get to your peas. 

He quickly maneuvers his cart a few feet ahead, and you grin, grabbing your produce and dropping it into your cart. 

“Thanks. I saw the note, by the way,” you say, hopefully casually. “I’m sorry about the noise.”

“Oh, uh…” 317 scratches his head, as if he hadn’t expected you to confront him about it. 

He brushes his bangs out of his face, and you can see a hint of red peeking above the mask. Then, as if he doesn’t know what to do with his hands afterward, he just shoves them into the pockets of his pants. 

“Small world?” he finally says.

The fuck? You bite back a laugh. You’d brought up the note, and he’d responded by saying it’s strange seeing you at a grocery store. Of all the things you’d expected him to say, “small world” definitely was not among them. 

Is he avoiding accountability for the dramatic note he wrote? Surely, he can’t be embarrassed at being asked about the archaic letter he hand-wrote and delivered to your front door. It’s as if he made it thinking that the two of you wouldn’t see each other again, which is incredibly naive—and, strangely, somewhat endearing? 

The corners of your lips turn downward in an upside down smile. With how flustered your neighbor appears to be, you’d feel bad ragging on him about the note, now. 

“Feel free to just knock on my door and tell me if it gets too loud next time, okay? The note was a bit much.”

He exhales sharply. “I thought it was the polite thing to do.”

You shake your head, clicking your tongue. “Oh, please, just tell me in person, I’m not that scary.”

He gives you a pointed look. “You were screaming.”

“It was so funny, though,” you pout. “Have you seen Single’s Inferno?”

“No,” he says. As an afterthought, he adds, “And I don’t plan to.”

You wrinkle your nose. “You’re missing out, 317.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that you should ask for his name.

“What’s your name, by the way? I mean, we can’t just keep calling each other as 317 and 319, y’know.” You share your name, and wait expectantly. 

The beautiful sound of silence graces your ears again.

You groan. “What, are you a spy, or something? I can’t know your name?”

His eyes widen, and for a second, you think you’ve either offended him, or hit the nail on the head. But then he lets out a sweet, addictive laugh, the sound muffled by his mask, but still audible. “Definitely not. I’m Lee Jihoon.”

“Mm, and is this your go-to grocery shopping time?”

“I don’t usually have time during the day.”

“Ah, a busy guy,” you nod. “I get it. What do you do for work?”

Jihoon hesitates, his grip tightening on the handle of his cart. “Nothing interesting. Just some stuff.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Just some stuff, huh? Sounds super secretive, are you sure you’re not a spy?”

His eyes crinkle, head shaking, as he assures you, “Nope.”

Your eyes narrow at your mysterious neighbor. “Alright, Jihoon. Don’t tell me you’re a big celebrity, or something.”

He freezes for a split second, mouth agape and eyes shaking, before he quickly looks at the floor. “Uh… no?”

Masterlist

Author's Note: slowburnnnn

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97

[storiesofsvu]

Solace

Rita Calhoun x reader warnings: language, brief mention of svu style angst, smut, dirty talk, thigh riding. sub!rita

Rita was home late, later than usual and much later than she had intended when she originally left her office. It was only supposed to be a drink, maybe two while she vented to Elana about the bullshit direction her case was going but one thing always led to another and this time that meant nearly finishing a bottle of wine. Normally these evenings were spent complaining about how annoying her client was, how stupid they were when they thought they were a genius, how the only reason they were on her client list in the first place was daddy’s money. Tonight it was the complete opposite, she’d taken a pro-bono, suggested through Rafael for an incredibly tricky case where she knew that her client was innocent, that they didn’t deserve suffering through a trial much less the prison time they were likely now facing. It was rare that she felt this defeated, that things didn’t feel right and it was eating away at her from the inside out.

The only light left on in the kitchen was the one above the stove, the living room dark and she felt a pang of guilt wash through her at the thought of you waiting up for her. A sliver of light shone down the hallway from the ajar bedroom door, soft music wafting through the air and she took a breath of relief, at least you weren’t already asleep. Nudging the bedroom door open she caught you coming back from the en-suite in a pair of thin beige joggers and a tank you usually slept in.

“Hey.” You greeted with a warm smile, making your way over to her your hand braced on her elbow you leant in, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek and Rita felt the warmth soothe through her veins at the touch.

“I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“It’s alright.” You squeezed at her elbow, “you’ve had a rough week.” You took the blazer folded over her arm, adding it to the dry cleaning pile in the walk in, “did you eat?”

There was a slight pause, “does a salad count?”

You popped back into the room with a brow raised and Rita knew she was already caught, “not if the salad was made up of fermented grapes.”

She let out a soft sigh, stepping out of her shoes and moving through the room to take out her earrings, “fine.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Am I going to wake up to you nearly burning the house down at three in the morning?”

“They have delivery apps for that.” She nearly scowled, looking at you through the mirror and you laughed, wrapping your arms around her from behind.

“Well… if you don’t want food… and you’ve already had something to drink…” your lips brushed against her neck once, twice, “I can think of something else that might make you feel better?”

“Darling…” she sighed, her shoulders sinking at the thought of disappointing you after leaving you hanging all evening, “I just really don’t have the energy—”

“Who said anything about you having to do anything?” You asked, a gleam in your eye as your hands moved to her hips and turned her around to face you, “you’ve had a long week.” Leaning in, you kissed her softly, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke, “let me take care of you, hmm?” Your hands began tugging at the hem of her shirt, untucking it from her skirt so you had access to her skin underneath the fabric as you leant in again, kissing her gently. She let out a soft sigh into the kiss, her arms instinctively wrapping around your shoulders as she melted into your embrace, feeling a tingling starting under her skin, her head already beginning to get fuzzy.

“I do suppose that might help.” She murmured.

“I thought so.”

You playfully nipped at her lower lip before kissing her again, letting her relax into the embrace as your hands slid under her blouse, cold fingers running paths on her heated skin. She sighed into the kiss and you took the opportunity to slide your tongue into her mouth, gracefully rolling along with hers. When your hands crept upwards, gently pawing at her chest she let out a soft moan, her body melting even more into your arms.

“That’s it baby.” You cooed, your lips kissing across her jawline, finger curling under her chin to tilt her head away from you so you could trail kisses down her neck. “Just relax for me. You deserve it.”

When you nipped at her neck she let out a quiet hiss and you couldn’t help but chuckle against her skin, your hands tugging her shirt over her head before tossing it in the direction of the laundry. Her bra was quick to join it, her nipples hardening in the cool bedroom air as you kissed her again, tongue immediately slinking into her mouth. Your hands found her hips, backing her up until her back hit the wall and she let out a small ‘oof’ into the kiss, your lips curving up into a grin at the noise. You tugged on her skirt, yanking it upwards until you could feel the hem of it and you were able to bunch it up around her waist.

“Think we can get rid of these.” You murmured as your fingers slipped into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down her legs and she was quick to kick them off, her hands grasping at you to pull you back into another kiss.

Your hands slid up her body, cupping her chest, thumbs rubbing back and fourth over her nipples before pinching them. Rita broke the kiss with a gasp, her head dropping back against the wall and her hips rolling toward your body. Rather than walking her to the bed like she expected, you slotted a leg between hers, nudging your knee right against the wall so her bare cunt was right on your pant leg.

“Someone’s getting antsy…Go on, ride my thigh.”

“Fuck.” She muttered, her hands bracing on your shoulders as she ground down onto your leg, letting out a whimper as her pussy dragged across your thigh.

“That’s it,” you murmured, placing a kiss right under her ear, “grind that pretty pussy on me, I know you want to.”

Rita groaned softly, her arms tightening around your shoulders as one of your hands slunk up her body to pinch and toy with her chest again. Your lips made a home in the crook of her neck, alternating between biting, sucking and kissing at her supple skin. A shuddering breath escaped from the back of her throat when her clit pressed down onto your thigh, her body shivering as tingles started moving through her. She had already completely forgotten about work, the stressors beginning to melt away from her body the moment your lips touched her. She could feel the tension she’d been holding all week dissipating, dripping away all the way from her head to her toes to be replaced with tiny bursts of fireworks as pleasure took over her only thought process. The lazy roll of her hips was just enough to get her going, her pussy beginning to flutter around nothing as you nudged your leg harder against her.

“C’mon baby, let go. I wanna hear you, you can get louder, can’t you?” You pinched her nipples as you spoke, pulling a low swear from her before one of your hands ran down her side, wrapping around her hip and you began to guide her.

“Oh god..”

“That’s it.” You purred, nipping at her earlobe, your hand guiding her faster as you flexed your thigh, pushing her harder down onto it and she moaned again. “You like that? Hmm?” Your lips brushed against her skin, “that feel good?”

“Mmhmm.” She did her best to nod as her pulsing clit brushed against your leg, her thighs trembling around you.

“You’re so good for me.” Your thumb brushed over her nipple, flicking gently at it, “so good to me. Need to make sure you relax more often, you’re too stressed.” Your hand pressed her down onto your thigh with more pressure and she groaned right into your ear, her fingers clawing at the fabric of your shirt. “Need to play with that pretty pussy more often, don’t I? I bet you’d like that. Already struggle to keep my hands off of you, may as well play with these perfect tits before even getting out of bed.” You enunciated your words by squeezing at her chest, rolling her nipple between your finger and thumb. “Could probably start fingering you in the shower, make you nice and relaxed to start your day off? Hmm?” Your teeth scraped against the column of her neck and Rita ground down onto your thigh, her hips rocking faster now as your words egged her on.

“Fuck…”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that too, feeling your warm pussy wrapped around my fingers, always so fuckin’ wet for me, dripping down my wrist as you squeeze around me.”

Rita’s whimpering grew louder and more frequent, she could feel the wetness between her legs growing with each time you spoke, juices no doubt smearing all over your pants as she rode your thigh. Her cunt pulsed, clit swollen and needy and she had to angle her hips perfectly to get it to grind against your leg. She was starting to lose her breath, caught up in the dirty things you were saying and the pleasure coursing through her entire body. She felt a flame burning inside her, prickling under her skin as your hands toyed with her body in the utterly perfect way, you always knew the exact places to touch her to make her come completely undone.

“Course, I couldn’t let you leave the house without getting my mouth on you.” You husked and she could practically hear the smirk in your voice, her body shuddering at the thought.

“Oh god… fuck..”

“Catch you right before you’re out the door, pin you to the wall just like this.” Your thigh surged up, pressing hard against her cunt and she cried out, her body trembling in your arms, “skirts give me such good access. Just have to pull those pretty lace panties to the side and have my way with you. Be so nice to have the taste of you on my lips for the rest of the day.”

“Darling…” she panted and your hand wound around her body, cupping at her ass, squeezing hard as you urged her to move faster, “oh god…”

“I know you’re close.” You murmured, pressing kisses along her neck, nosing at her jaw to try and gain what little attention left you could, “let go for me baby. I wanna see you come.”

Rita’s nails began to dig into your back as breathless whimpers escaped her lips, her hips rolling faster and harder against your leg, guided by you, urging her on, sweet nothings whispered right into her ear as she buried herself into the crook of your neck. Heat pulsed through her, exploding in her core as she cried out, her pussy clenching down, pulsing harder than she’d expected as she hit her peak. Her head dropped back against the wall, her lips parting as she panted, her body slowly decompressed. Your hand continued to guide her hips, rocking her gently across your thigh, each drag slower and lighter than the one before.

“That’s it gorgeous.” You placed a kiss on her collarbone, your lips making a pathway up her neck until you captured her lips in a small, breathless kiss, “you’re so pretty when you’re coming for me.” Your hand cupped at her cheek while you kissed her again quickly, your thumb rubbing across her skin soothingly.

Finally your hand dropped from her ass, your knee falling from the wall to let your leg relax and your warms wound around her waist, making sure she was stable on her legs as you kissed her again.

“Christ.” She muttered, pulling a small laugh from you.

“I’ll say.” You pinched gently at her sides, guiding her gaze down towards your pant leg, “look at the mess you made.”

Rita felt a flush of heat surge into her cheeks when her eyes landed on the soaked patch of the fabric, a nearly embarrassed chuckle leaving her lips. “Sorry.”

“No need.” You laughed, leaning in to kiss her cheek, winding an arm around her waist, “seems like you really needed to get off, and I was gonna wear shorts to bed anyways.”

“Thank you.” She replied with a very satisfied sigh, finally reaching behind herself to unzip her skirt, stepping out of it as she scooped up the other pieces of discarded clothing.

“Feeling better?” You asked, following her into the walk in to swap your stained pants to a pair of shorts.

“Much.” She smiled softly at you, pulling a robe from the closet to wrap around herself and you couldn’t help but laugh as her stomach let out a growl.

“Sounds like someone worked up an appetite.” You teased, prodding at her side and she scoffed at you, “why don’t you hop in the shower and I’ll put in for some takeout.”

“Sounds perfect.” She leant in, kissing you gently as she squeezed at your hand, a look in her eyes that you knew all too well, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

________

@hbkpop @mickey-gomez @red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @altsvu @svulife-rl @svushots @wannabe-fic-reader @bumblebear30 @alexbllake @australiancarisi @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @dead-of-niight @multifandomlesbianic @dxtery @momlifebehard @poisonedcrowns @when-wolves-howl @godard-muse @itisdoctortoyousir @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @dextur @disneyfan624 @svushots @happenstnces @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @valentinesfrog @noahrex @wittygutsy @chimnlex @i-lovefandom @ralla-ralla @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts

[teal-fiend]

Drunk pred

Tw: drunk, semi-willing prey, fatal vore implied

Summary: pred gets drunk and orders a prey, then has an emotional dining experience

–

Slumped over on their couch, bottle in hand, phone in the other, the predator takes a long, bleary stare at their screen, trying to navigate the food delivery app. 

The room is empty, and their belly growls faintly, reminding them they haven’t had anyone in there in a while. 

“Oh, hush, you,” they mutter, giving their own stomach a poke. “I’m working on it.”

They’d been drinking, alone, which was a fun activity kind of, but anyway they’d suddenly gotten really really hungry. And they really weren’t in a position to go out hunting, so they thought they’d order something. 

After some less-than-steady swipes and a few failed clicks, they finally manage to order a prey for themselves. After typing something incoherent in the notes for the driver, they throw their phone down on the couch. It bounces and lands on the floor, but the pred doesn’t notice. 

They’re still holding the bottle, so they decide to finish that off. And before they know it, there’s a knock at the door. Stumbling slightly, they open it to find their prey, wide-eyed and looking a little unsure as they glance from the predator to the now empty wine bottle in their hand.

“Welcome!” the predator declares, swaying slightly as they motion their “guest” inside. “Sooo glad you could made it! C’mere, c’mere, don’t be shy! You’re… you’re exactly what I ordered.”

The prey steps inside, hesitant. Their predator seems, well, drunk. Honestly, they could probably escape pretty easily. Their predator would not be hard to out-maneuver. But that wouldn’t be good for business. And besides, the predator seemed really, really happy that they were here. 

The prey is guided inside the pred’s apartment, which is mostly well put together, spare a few bottles. 

The pred sits the prey down on the couch, arranging them like a doll, before sitting down next to them.

“Listen to this,” they slur, guiding the prey’s head right to their stomach, where the wine and other similar liquids slosh and gurgle around noisily. The prey’s left ear is pressed right up against the pred’s already slightly bloated stomach - through the fabric of their shirt, the prey is forced to listen. 

“That’s where you’re going, soon enough!” The pred says happily. 

The prey, a bit alarmed, starts to pull away, but the predator only tightens their arm around them, sighing. 

“Sorry about this,” the predator says, as they look down at their own belly, as if a little offended by it. The prey feels something drop onto their neck, a tear? The pred is crying a bit. 

“You know, I bet you’re a great person. And now I have to… well, eat you up.

I guess it’s natural, right? I’m a predator, it’s what I have to do. To survive.”

The prey, with their head smooshed into the predator’s belly, tries to be reassuring. “I-It’s okay,” they stammer, caught between alarm and the weird urge to comfort the sloshed predator. 

“Really, I knew what I was getting into, and it’s… fine…?”

The predator releases their grip, and the prey sets themself upright, a little dizzy. 

“Oh, you’re just being nice,” the predator says, wiping their face, “but I appreciate it.

I really don’t wanna eat you - well I do, but only because I’m so hungry. I wish I wasn’t so hungry all the time, it’s so - tiring. But yeah.”

The predator says, “I’m just going to get it over with now.” Not giving the prey any time before they sloppily start the process of fitting them into their mouth.

It’s not graceful—the predator keeps sobbing, and then gagging- however they are ultimately and primordially determined to get the prey into their stomach, that was what this was all for, after all. 

Soon enough, the prey is tucked into their belly, settling into the swirling, wine-soaked warmth.

The predator gives a long, satisfied sigh, patting their now very full, gurgling stomach with a pleased hum.

Which is Followed by an aggressive hiccup, jolting them and their prey. They mumble a few unintelligible words, some apology, and maybe a compliment to their taste, before keeling over on the couch (now being the only person remaining on it), eyes already fluttering shut. In moments, they’re fast asleep, snoring. Leaving the prey nestled inside, listening to the sloshing, rumbling sounds of digestion beginning. 

[animeomegas]

Ideal Valentines Day - Omega! Aizawa, Mic, Toshinori, Dabi

A/N: For the anon who asked <3 I wasn't vibing with Shiggy today, so I left him off. I feel like these all ended up being home dates, but I think being a hero or villain makes those easier lol. There are hints of n-sfw, but it's non-descriptive and very tame.

Aizawa

Actions speak louder than words for Aizawa, and I think his preferred love language for receiving affection is Acts of Service.

He has no need for material items, and that goes doubly for anything covered in hearts. I don't think he's a massive fan of chocolate. And flowers are just another thing that he has to sort out and try to keep alive as long as he can. No, he much prefers practical care on Valentine's day.

He wants you to pick him up from UA after work so he doesn't have to drive, a warm cup of his favourite coffee, far sweeter than his image would suggest, ready for him.

He wants to go straight home of course. When he walks through the door, he would love to see the house sparkling clean and tidy. It lifts a burden off him that he didn't even know was there.

There's no fancy outfits with him. He wants to immediately get changed into the comfiest clothes he has, and he would love if you did the same.

Dinner should 100% be his favourite takeaway, eaten on the couch, of course.

I don't know why, but I don't get the vibe that Aizawa is that interested in sex on Valentines Day. I think he'd prefer the intimacy to come from a shared bath or a massage.

And ideally the night ends early, so he can face tomorrow well rested, for once in his life.

Mic

Hizashi loves cheesy romance, he lives for cheesy romance! He eats, sleeps, and breathes it!

I think receiving gifts is something he loves, so get him a pink teddy bear, get him a comically oversized chocolate bar, get him a sappy card filled with cheesy love poems (bonus if you write them yourself.) He loves it all.

He also wants to be at home, because he's worried about people recognising him and interrupting the date.

He would love, love, love if he came home to a trail of rose petals to follow, he's always wanted to do that!

I think he'd enjoy cooking dinner together, just making a mess, playing around, listening to music.

Please pull him to dance with you, he will melt.

Once the food is eaten and the mess left for tomorrow, I think he'd want to do some sort of activity. A board game, a video game, painting together, anything! He's having fun as long as he's with you.

And then... well he's certainly not going to complain if one of your gifts to him was lingerie or a new 'toy'. And it would be rude to not try them out ��

Toshinori

His idea of romance is old school. He developed his taste mostly from films, rather than experience, after all.

He wants roses so badly. He can't decide if it's more romantic to get a dozen roses, or just one, so he'll let you decide.

I think something private would be more meaningful to him because he's spent his life in the spotlight.

He wants you to meet him at the door with a rose/bouquet of roses, and then lead him into the living room of your home, where you've laid out a fancy dinner.

He wants the fancy dinner table to be set to the nines, he wants candles, champagne, and some food that he can eat. He wants classical music playing in the background.

And then he wants you to pull out his chair for him and wine and dine him until he's completely smitten, not that that's hard.

He doesn't mind if you order the food, but he'd prefer if you either made it by hand, or had it ordered from a special place as opposed to just off a food delivery app. He wants everything to feel special.

The best way to finish the night after dinner is with a movie. One of his favourite films, probably a ridiculous American action film or terrible romcom.

He needs some good old fashioned cuddling at the same time of course.

And because he's getting old, he wants to spend the final moments of the day tucked up in bed, talking about feelings and the future, and all the fuzzy things you're both looking forward to in your relationship.

Dabi

Dabi is softer than he will admit, which means Valentines Day with him involved tricking him into feeling loved.

You can't do things that are too typical, because he'll get spooked. If he comes home and sees heart shaped balloons or dozens of roses, he will flee the scene.

Luckily, he is utterly weak for pizza, so if he comes home and you've ordered his favourite pizza and got a video game/film set up, he can't resist.

"This isn't some weird Valentine's shit, is it?"

"It's just pizza, Dabi, but if you don't want any, I'll eat it all."

"What? In your dreams, knothead."

Once you've lulled him in with pizza and games, you can start putting the moves on him.

He's almost always down for sex, so that part is easy. The hard part is stopping him from escalating it into something rougher, and keeping it gentle.

He gets frustrated at first that you're being too soft on him, and it's at this point that you start lavishing him in praise and body worship. His frustration turns into bashfulness and Dabi gets kind of shy.

Let him know how much you love him.

And then, right when you're both about to drift off, wish him a Happy Valentine's Day.

[beardedmrbean]

Mark Zuckerberg’s Meta has sacked a number of staff after they abused the company’s $25 (£19) meal scheme to order household goods such as toothpaste and washing powder.

Almost 30 staff in the company’s Los Angeles office were dismissed after they were found to be routinely using takeaway credits to order groceries and cosmetics, employees said.

The sackings included high-paid engineers earning six-figure salaries, according to posts on the anonymous chat app Blind.

Meta, which is currently worth $1.5 trillion, provides staff with free breakfast, lunch and dinner at its larger offices.

Those in smaller offices without staff canteens instead receive vouchers for delivery apps such as Grubhub, which they can use to order food when working at the office.

However, Meta recently discovered that some employees were using the $25 vouchers to order household items from stores that feature on the apps.

In some cases, staff were using the scheme to buy wine glasses and laundry detergent, according to the Financial Times.

Meta and other Silicon Valley companies have long offered free food in their offices, which are seen as an incentive to come into the office instead of working from home, or in the case of breakfast and dinner, to encourage longer working hours.

Staff initially received warnings about abusing the meal voucher scheme but those who continued to do so were sacked last week.

The news came as Meta also laid off a larger number of staff across WhatsApp, Instagram and its virtual reality unit on Wednesday.

The company said it was restructuring certain departments, and moving some staff to other areas.

The redundancies are not believed to be as widespread as the mass layoffs in 2022 and 2023, when Meta cut tens of thousands of staff in what Mr Zuckerberg called a driver for “efficiency”.

A Meta spokesman said: “Today, a few teams at Meta are making changes to ensure resources are aligned with their long-term strategic goals and location strategy.

“This includes moving some teams to different locations, and moving some employees to different roles. In situations like this when a role is eliminated, we work hard to find other opportunities for impacted employees.”

Meta has cut down on perks introduced to encourage staff into the office in recent years, scrapping “to-go” boxes that allowed employees to take food home, as well as benefits such as laundry services.

[sanjoongie]

FFF~ Day 23

♡Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader (f)

♡Genre: smut with no plot

♡Au: delivery man, sex worker

♡Word Count: 1,728

♡Warnings: creampie, penetrative sex without a barrier, degradation kink, rough sex, big dick mingi as always, praise kink, hair pulling, slight roleplaying, m and f orgasm

♡Rated: 18+ MDNI

♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Masturbation, CS | Next Day~ Pegging, KHJ

♡Dedication~ @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland the unholy trinity beta team

You were really horny. You had tried to masturbate. You had tried to watch porn and masturbate. You had tried using a pillow, your fingers, anything but nothing was relieving the tension between your legs. You knew what your problem was: you wanted a dick. But with no one really on call for that sort of issue, you were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Unless…

You sighed and picked up your phone. You opened the app DlvryCk. You knew about the service and what it provided. Your friends had been telling you about it and made you download it but you hadn't been desperate enough for it until now. Basically, you answered a couple of questions and someone arrived with a dick for you to use. As someone who wanted to be wined and dined before you got dicked down, it didn’t appeal to you, but considering your situation… you figured it was time to use it.

You wanted a fairly long cock, you wanted a creampie finish and you wanted it at the door. Your face heated up at how straight forward everything was but you threw your pride out the window. You didn’t care, you just wanted a dick inside of you and you wanted to come!

It was perhaps twenty minutes later when a deep voice called out from your apartment door and a timid knock was heard. “Special Delivery!”

You rushed to your door and opened it, ushering the delivery guy in. You did a quick back and forth to make sure none of your nosy neighbors saw and then closed the door. You flattened yourself against it because you had to look up, up, up to meet the eyes of the delivery man.

“I’m Song Mingi, and I’ll be your cock for today,” he said without a sense of shame at all.

You giggled nervously. “Hi Mingi.”

Mingi unlocked his phone, eyes squinting over his mask. “It says here you’d like to be referred to as slut?”

Your eyes shot downward immediately. Damn his feet were big. Did that mean…? “Yeah. I’m kinda needy today and I really just need that degradation right now.”

“No problem,” Mingi assured you. “So…?” He took off his mask and you gasped. That strong nose and plush lips… he really wasn’t what you were expecting for this kind of service. “You said you wanted it at the door but I need you to pick a position.”

“Oh!” Your face couldn't get any more hot, you felt like. So you moved around him and then got on your hands and knees on the floor. You pressed your lips together and looked over your shoulder. “Like this please.” You were kinda cursing your choice now. His hair was long enough for you to tug and you wanted to tug.

“Are you sure about the creampie? I’ve got a condom if you’ve changed your mind,” Mingi said from behind you. You could hear some rustling and assumed he was pushing his pants down. You kinda wanted to see how big he was. Damn you for choosing to face away from him!

“Please,” You begged, “I want that ending so badly. There’s no need for a condom.”

“You’re okay if I adlib some dirty talk? You can tell me to stop at any time. What did you put as your safeword?” Mingi continued to check in and even though he was being very professional, there was also something so sweet about it as well.

“Joker,” You winced. Could you have been any more of a nerd? “And yes, the dirty talk is fine.”

“I’m going to begin now,” Mingi announced.

Because of your sexual frustration, there was little to no resistance for Mingi to enter you from behind. You could feel his thighs tensing against the back of yours as he bottomed out and that made you whine. “Is it okay?” Mingi checked in. “I know my length can be a lot.”

You giggled under your breath. “I’m so fucking horny right now, it feels so good!”

“Oh!” Mingi sounded surprised but pleasantly so. “I’ll stop with the questions now.”

The grip on your hips tightened, almost painfully so, that you knew there’d be bruises there but it just made you whine again. And then he began to fuck you. Oh, how glorious it was. The slap of skin on skin in your entranceway was so goddamn sinful that you felt embarrassed all over again.

“How’s that, slut?” Mingi growled. “You like a good pounding, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mingi,” You replied pathetically. You felt your knees starting to move at the ferocity that Mingi was fucking you. “Fuck me harder.”

“Harder?” Mingi laughed at you. “You want me to rearrange your guts?”

“Hnnnnn, please, oh my god!” Mingi was hitting the end of you now and it was stimulating you in another way.

“If you think this is good…” Mingi gripped one of your thighs and held it up, like you were a dog peeing and it changed the angle completely.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” You whined. You didn’t think you’d get fucked so good by a goddamn order a serving of dick app delivery man???

“That’s right, slut, take all of my cock,” Mingi grunted.

“I…I…” You swallowed and opened your mouth, but you didn’t even have two brain cells to rub together right now. This was so fucking good.

Mingi used a faux-sweet voice. “Aw, fucked dumb already? No wonder you ordered a quickie. You must have been so desperate, hmmm? Needed a cock that badly between your legs?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” You chanted.

“You gonna cum untouched? You really are a slut to come from just a cock in her cunt. And such a sweet cunt it is, sucking me in like it’s greedy for me,” Mingi murmured, “Ready for my present for you?”

“Oh my god, please!” You groaned, getting excited already at the prospect of receiving a cream pie from this delicious dick that was fucking you so good.

“I’m gonna come in this pussy, fuck, gonna come in this pussy and fill you up with my cum. Hmm? Gonna fuck my cum inside of you and use it as a lubricant, huh slut?” Mingi’s thrusting was getting more precise, more exact, and it was stroking something deep inside of you.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” You repeated, mind white noise at this point. All you could focus on was the dick moving in and out of you and how much pleasure it was giving you. You came like an explosion, shouting and gasping, and trembling. You swore you would have blacked out if not for the way Mingi slowed down his thrusts to help you through your orgasm. You had folded your arms and were panting into them as you came down and something stuck with you: Mingi hadn't come yet.

“Mingi?” You whined.

“Yes?” The sweet boy chirped from behind you, forgetting his façade.

“You haven’t come yet!”

“Oh,” He chuckled cutely, “You’re right.”

“Please tell me you’re still going to?” You demanded.

“I…are you sure?” He sounded confused.

“Bend me in half,” You dared to suggest.

“What?” Mingi leaned over your back.

You cleared your throat, a little hoarse from all your screaming. “Bend me in half. Fuck me face to face, let me watch your cum leaving me as you come.”

“Oh.” Mingi let your leg go down and then carefully adjusted your position until you were on your back now. The entire time he hadn't slipped out of you. He really was a professional. “Like this?” He raised your legs until they were both over his shoulders and then leaned forward, a hand laying palm down near each of your shoulders.

“Oh my god,” You whined. You were face to face with Mingi and it made you regret not doing this position in the first place. “Can I request one more thing?”

“Yeah,” Mingi grinned boyishly.

“Can I tug on your hair?”

“Oh fuck,” Mingi cursed, biting down on his lip. “I mean, I’m okay with it. Whatever you want, cherished customer.”

Your hands dived into the nape of his neck and pulled experimentally. It made Mingi moan deeply and loudly and you clenched down on him. That made Mingi thrust into you without warning and then the both of you were groaning. “Please, Mingi, come inside of me,” You pleaded. “I want it.”

“Can I make a request?” Mingi asked, his eyebrows furrowed cutely.

“Mmm?” You were surprised you had the brain power to respond, honestly.

“Can I call you sweetheart?”

“Of course!” Fuck your beating heart better stop though or you might get a crush on the dick you paid for.

Mingi flashed you a smile and then began to move himself in and out of you again. “So good for me, Sweetheart, let me fucking you as soon as I got home.” The both of you watched as your slick coated his dick and he moved in and out of you with ease.

“Oh yeah, Mingi,” You were already groaning, “I’ve been waiting for you to come home.”

“Yeah, your sweet puss been waiting for my big dick to fuck you, sweetheart?” Mingi picked up the pace a bit. He was sweating a little now, but whether it was from holding back his orgasm or the amount of physicality he had to perform, that was a toss up.

You nodded, biting down on your lip. “Needed your big dick in order to come, Mingi. I craved it.”

You tugged on his hair and he moaned deliciously for you again. “More,” He demanded gruffly.

You cried out as his thrusts somehow penetrated even deeper into you. Fuck, you really were in love with this big dick already. Were there discounts for repeat trips?

You pulled on his hair, Mingi fucked you deeper and harder, and soon Mingi was treating you to a second orgasm, because your pussy was that sensitive, and his own. His nose scrunched up and he groaned with that wonderfully deep voice of his, all the while you were completely bent in two. The two of you watched with enthusiasm as Mingi came inside of you and it did indeed leak out around his dick. Even when he softened and pulled out, his load pushed out of you, covering your cunt and dripping down your asshole to the floor.

“Oh shit,” Mingi grinned, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons. “I didn’t mean to make a mess of your hallway.”

You swallowed and wondered if he would come that much in your mouth. “You already made a mess of my pussy, what’s another mess to clean up?”

♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Masturbation, CS | Next Day~ Pegging, KHJ

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of it - Coming Home

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: SFW

Word Count: 1257

Summary: Jason comes home from a long trip away from Gotham and visits Andy. Both of them try very hard to pretend they're not yearning.

Masterlist

Jason arrived back to Gotham after two months in space.

He was sore, tired, and annoyed. He hated space. There was never enough room, the food was terrible, and no matter how much you liked your fellow voyagers, the close quarters and endless hours with nothing to do meant he spent the whole time in endless petty arguments. 

He was pretty sure he owed half the Outlaws apologies for the stupid shit he said on the ride home. 

He dumped his bag of gear in the doorway of his cold apartment. The lights took a second to come on and bathed the rooms in bleak white light. He pulled out his phone and saw the backlog of messages and calls. He scrolled past and deleted most of them. 

Andy had sent him a backlog of memes. A tired smile tugged at his mouth. 

He had thought giving her some space while he was in actual space would probably be good for both of them. He hadn’t had this much to do with someone outside of the hero scene since before his death. It wasn’t fair to her when she didn’t know the danger inherent with his company. 

He chuckled at a hideous meme about Nicholas Nickleby. Damn, he had missed her. 

He’d forgotten just how stabilising it was to have civilian friends. How relaxing it was. It kind of weirded him out sometimes. No wonder Dick was always hassling Bruce to go socialise. 

He flipped her a message, letting her know he was back. 

He shucked off his shirt and took a shower. He rewrapped his bandages but couldn’t be bothered shaving. His stubble was really just a beard by now. Tomorrow’s problem.

In a towel and slippers he wandered back through his apartment. Was it always so draughty? He’d forgotten to turn the heating on or close the curtains. He pulled the fridge open. 

It was completely empty. 

He tipped his head back and sighed for about a million years. 

Of course he’d cleared everything out before he left. He wasn’t an idiot. And there was plenty of shelf stable food in the pantry, he could technically feed every bat in the city for a year, but he was not eating rehydrated food from a packet tonight. He refused. 

His phone buzzed on the counter. He flipped it over. Andy’s face glowed next to a message asking if he wanted to come over for dinner. 

‘Got a giant pot pie in the oven,’ she said. 

He grinned. He wasn’t going to say yes, all he needed was a quiet night decompressing. Still. The thought counted. 

He opened a delivery app.

Andy sent him a photo. Her giant dog’s soulful eyes and fluffy snout took over the screen. 

‘Marlow doesn’t want you to eat sad take out in a sad empty apartment.’

‘My apartment isn’t sad,’ he replied.

‘But it doesn’t have Marlow. Who’s begging will you cave to and give the scraps from your plate?’

‘Marlow makes a compelling case.’

He flicked back to the delivery app. He scrolled by pizza and stir fry and curry. He opened the fridge again. Still empty.  

He opened the chat. 

‘What kind of pot pie?’

‘Beef burgundy.’

He leaned his head against the fridge door. 

‘I’ll be there in twenty

‘😀’

He threw some pants and an old shirt on and grabbed a bottle of wine from the depths of his pantry. 

Shortly after he climbed the stairs to Andy’s apartment. It was a nice enough spot for Crime Alley, a corner apartment on the top level. The elevator didn’t work, the paint was peeling, and the balcony was technically condemned, but the landlord hadn’t put the rent up in five years. A steal. 

He heard excited dog noises from behind the door before he even knocked. His shoulders relaxed.

The door swung open a moment later and Andy grinned up at him, the vanguard of a wave of wave air that enveloped him. He was holding a bottle of wine, she was holding a potato peeler. He folded her into a hug. She squeezed him happily. 

She took the wine, and he soon found himself sitting on the living room floor, his back against the couch, with a giant happy dog sitting on his legs. He was warm and sank into a puddle of golden afternoon light. Delicious smells wafted in from the kitchen and MASH reruns played quietly on the tv. He had somehow ended up holding the potato peeler.

“Can I help?” he called, even though he suspected if he had to stand up again he might just cry. 

Andy laughed from the kitchen. “Absolutely not.” 

He draped his arms over Marlow’s back, and let his head fall back against the couch. A contented huff came from the dog. Jason closed his eyes. 

When next he opened them the light had changed. 

The curtains were closed. A reading lamp off to the side cast diffuse orange light across the room. The opening credits for a later season of MASH played quietly on the tv. 

He turned his head, groggy and unconcerned. Andy sat curled up on the couch behind him and to the side. He spied a scraped empty plate next to her and an open book on the arm rest. The dog had dragged over his bed and was sleeping next to both of them. 

He looked up at her for a moment, studying her. The curl of her hand against her cheek. The little flyaway of her hair curling over her forehead. One shoulder of her cardigan slipping down her arm. Her toes tucked under a couch cushion. If he was a painter, he would want to paint her here, now. 

“Dinner’s in the oven for you,” she said quietly. 

His stomach reminded him of how pressing a concern that was. 

He clambered up with a groan. Marlow came along to the kitchen to see what he was doing, and then back again to sit optimistically at his feet. 

Jason sat next to Andy on the couch and ate his fill.

“I forgot how good a cook you are,” he moaned. 

She beamed. 

He pointed with his fork. “My turn, next time. I owe you.”

Her smile turned lazy. “Sure. Next time I fall off the map for two months and resurface with a beard and a full week of sleep debt, you can do the cooking.”

He narrowed his eyes while chewing his mashed potatoes. “Cute.” 

“You’re cute.” 

“Yeah I am. Fuckin’ adorable.” 

“Missed you, Jay.”

Something thick lodged in his throat. Too much, it was too much, if he opened his mouth something stupid would come out. 

Andy’s expression shuttered. She looked down at her book. 

“Too much peace and quiet without me?” he managed. He aimed for soft, and not sharp, and hoped like hell he succeeded. He was too rough and jagged for this kind woman. She didn’t deserve his bullshit. 

“Not enough peace and quiet,” she said like nothing had happened. “I can’t trick anyone else into walking Marlow for me. He’s taken to whining about it.” 

The dog sat up straighter at hearing his name.

“Really? Two whole months and nobody’s replaced me as his favourite?”

She shrugged and reached out to rub behind his ears. “No other contenders.”

“Well they’re missing out,” Jason said. He rubbed Marlow’s flank. 

They petted opposite sides of the dog, not making eye contact. Marlow, who had never hesitated to love anyone in his life, was perfectly happy to receive their affections.

Next>>

[the-log-ffl]

S10:W5

The year of the mish continues… what the fuck is going on? I always try to put on a positive exterior but in reality, I think I lean to the glass half empty side of life unfortunately. I’m always watching for that check engine light to come on, my entree is the one the server forgets to ring in, the leak in the office skylight trickles down and lands solely on my desk, my package is in town but delivery has been delayed. It’s always fucking something. But lately I have felt a shift in the tides. I am learning how to say fuck you to things that don’t serve me well. I’m saying fuck you to foods, foods that I love but don’t love me back, I’m saying fuck you to some people, and for the same reason. I’m seeking small victories, setting micro goals if you will. Due 10 pushups you pussy, pass on the bread fag, jump in some cold water you little bitch, smoke less you degenerate, run a mile you lazy ass, walk to the beach and leave the phone behind, tell the kids you love them and you will kill anyone who ever tries to hurt them and get the wife some god damn flowers for no reason at all. Simple. Due to this change in mental management I have begun to reap some interesting benefits. I’m down 25 pounds, I no longer have to hold my breath to put on socks, I had to buy two new pairs of jeans, I mean they’re Amazon Essentials but still, I’m over 100 push ups a day, my kids love me, did some psychedelics with my wife, got to enjoy one of the best steaks on the planet and a little road head too. I’m thinking my glass is pretty fucking half full right now. I admit it puts a big smile on my face, and brings me extreme gratitude, but as much joy as these things currently bring to me, they don’t put the sparkle in my eye or the pride in my heart like starting off the 2024 season in the LOG 5 - 0!  It really is the apex of life.

Week 6 Predictions

Looks like we have a couple of double headers this week. I don’t know why Spirit, Redfield, ODBJ and myself are matching up in back to back weeks, but it has something to do with making sure The Romancer and Petey matched up on Big Sur Food and Wine week. Nevertheless, it is what it is. So it looks like Spirit will get another crack at the king, but alas, Turds already have their costume and  go to Costco instead. 

Turds over Spirit 111-89

FREEDOM over Nugs 108-96

SORDIDUS over Gringos 98 - 88

Sluts over Piece of Shit 122 - 103

ODBJ gets the wedding day edge over Redfield 110 - 101

Week 5 Results (3-2)

Turds over Spirit  101-87  120-95

Gringos over Nugs 89-79

Raj=Shit over Discipline 99-78  95-85

Sluts over Sordidus 112-110  141-109

Beckham over Redfield 97-88

Kick back with a microdose boys, a heavy microdose.

LOG 4 life!

~mish

LOG WEEKLY DICK SIZE RECAP

Matt Maier has the BIG DICK OF THE WEEK: 141 Points

Matt Hames has the small dick of the week: 85 Points

Shawn House has THE THROBBER - 190.64 (S9:W3)

Ethan App has the STINKY DICK - 48.76 Points (S8:W10)

[smthliminal]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 !

LOCATION ⸻ rustic house.

special delivery: amara washington ⟨ @theiressence ⟩

In apology for having been a few minutes late Isaiah had ordered the specialty, and only barely past the initial pleasantries and catchup the raw oysters were delivered to their table and set between them. A smile was on his face as he thanked the waiter and his green eyes met with Amara's. It wasn't often he indulged in this seafood treat, not necessarily out of cost, it was mostly due to the acknowledgment that too much revel in something special could rub off some of the shine. "Please tell me these are better here than in bloody England," Isaiah half joked, a bad accent tossed in. His childhood friend, one of the people he'd been closest to the longest in life, had been returned to their hometown for nearly to a year now, and even then when they got together he couldn't help but be grateful.

The reasons behind Amara's return had dimmed his happiness a touch, and Isaiah had hoped it would turn out to be a better outcome for her. His divorce finalized some twelve years ago and all he'd done was throw himself into work. It mattered, it was important. There was a living reminder of that in his home. Somewhere along the line he should've gotten over it and moved on, tried again, even just enjoyed dating. "So you think I should get out there and give it a shot?" Isaiah returned to their conversation once the waiter had departed. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure he had it in him. That he had the energy for it. He reached for his glass of wine and pulled the hot sauce closer. "I'm not sure I could do a dating app. The last time I dated I was in college, I guess that would make me old school —"

[random-random-things]

I have a quick math question for you guys. I leave the house with the intention of getting a bottle of wine. I'm also going to start [food delivery app] with the intention of just doing whatever orders pop up while I'm on my way. I make ~$20 on the way to the store and spend $9 at the store. How much did the bottle of wine cost?

Is it:

A) $9

B) free

C) -$11

[lindevi]

Media Favorites of 2023

Who can't believe that 2023 is nearly over? *raises hand* As the year winds down, this seems like the time to reflect on the things that helped us or brought us joy. The following is a list (not exhaustive) of my favorite apps, books, music, TV, and video games from the last year, including many that I would recommend to others. You can find my list from 2021 here. (I missed compiling this list in 2022, in no small part because I was sampling eastern Germany’s best Christmas Markets all through December.)

Apps

Airalo. My new go-to for international data, but you’ll need an unlocked phone. I was able to save a ton of money by setting up a second e-SIM to access Japanese mobile data networks. (It cost $10 for 10GB of data across 30 days, which was plenty for the week I spent there, and much cheaper compared to my phone plan’s offerings.) I wish I’d heard of this before my trips to England and Europe this year, but I was able to try it out in Japan successfully. I’ll definitely be making use of this app when traveling in the future. The only downside is that I can’t have both e-sims active, so I had to restart my phone in order to check my text messages. Luckily, most communication is done over apps these days instead of SMS, so I wasn’t missing much.

​Reverso. This app pulled more than its weight for me while I was traveling abroad this summer. The thing I liked most about it is how it pulls up example sentences so you can help see the context and usage of a given word. It also saves your searches for you, so if you were a more disciplined language student than me, you could write down any new vocabulary in a notebook to study later. Also, it’s free and works fairly well offline, and it’s able to handle multiple languages in the same app.

Vivino. When in France, drink as the French do, I suppose. But when you’re at the supermarket trying to decide between the many, many wines available for less than 10€, this app helps to narrow down the field. Scanning the label gives you the user score for that vintage, plus a personalized rating for how it compares to previous wines you’ve enjoyed. By rating the wines I tried, I was able to get a better sense of my preferred styles and remember which labels to avoid in the future. It was also excellent to have on hand when we went to Bordeaux and sampled various Grand Crus. The app helped me to get a sense for how much those bottles would fetch back home, and whether it was worth it to buy it in France to bring home or to seek it out at my local liquor store.

Books

​Dracula by Bram Stoker. The vampire book that started it all (well, not quite), this one really does live up to its reputation as a classic. A few years ago, I read Stoker’s The Jewel of Seven Stars and enjoyed it tremendously (it even served as the inspiration for a Dark Sun one-shot scenario I wrote based around Queen Tara), so I’m not sure what took me so long to get to Dracula. The epistolary style is really well done and should serve as a reference point for any game masters who long to add handouts to their campaigns. It’s inspired me to try running Night’s Black Agents in the new year.

Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch. Apparently this book is the first in an urban fantasy series I’ve been sleeping on for some time. The easy comparison is Storm Front, the first book in the Dresden Files, but I have to say that this one comes out on top re: modern wizard investigator stories, mostly because of the protagonist’s sense of humor and the audiobook narrator’s brilliant delivery. I think fans of British TV will find themselves very much at home with this book. I had the happy accident of being in London while reading this, and I had been exploring Covent Garden and the alleys surrounding the Royal Opera House immediately before reading the finale, which helped tremendously when picturing the final scenes.

Slaying the Dragon by Ben Riggs. With the news of the recent Hasbro layoffs affecting the D&D team at Wizards of the Coast, this book feels like required reading to understand some of the boom and bust cycles of D&D (although, sadly, D&D seems to be doing better than ever, and the layoffs appear to be mandated to help cover losses elsewhere in the company). It’s hard to fact-check/cross-reference this book because so much of it is original research and interviews done by the author, but that’s precisely why it’s a must-read for fans of the franchise.

Music

All Quiet on the Western Front (Soundtrack from the Netflix Film). One word: haunting. The main “melody” is extremely simplistic, but it fits the subject matter so well. I also recommend the movie if you play any 20th century-based wargames or read any history. I found it interesting that this was only the first time a German production company adapted it from the book.

Seelie by CLANN. I’m not sure how to categorize this album, except it’s incredibly ambient and dark and pagan (especially Celtic). The tracks all kind of blend together in a good way, making it excellent for writing or focus work.

Gris (Original Game Soundtrack). Another great soundtrack I put on repeat this year, mostly while reading. It’s melancholic, sweeping, hopeful. I’ve never played the video game, but if it’s half as good as the score, it’ll be quite good.

Movies/TV

​Barbie. I went for a “Barbenheimer” double-feature this summer, and I did not expect Barbie to hit way harder than Oppenheimer did. Ryan Gosling might have stolen the show, but the story and the feels really made this movie stay with us. Coming from a franchise development/IP approval perspective (and this is where I have to do the disclaimer that my opinions are my own, I’m not speaking on behalf of my employer Asmodee), I’m shocked that Mattel let this get made, but I’m so glad they did.

Blue Eye Samurai. (Netflix) I had little idea this was coming until a few weeks before the release, but this show blew me away and shattered any expectations I had for it. The character development, the animation, the voice acting, the themes… it’s hard to find faults with the show (although, perhaps Mizu’s ending was unexpected). If you enjoy samurai cinema or anime, if you’re at all interested in the history of Japan, or if you’re simply an appreciator of animation, this is a must-watch.

​Vienna Blood. (PBS) I like to joke that I have a grandmother’s taste in TV, because BBC/ITV period dramas make up so much of my streaming diet, but this is a mystery/detective show first and foremost. Instead of Sherlock and Watson, you’ve got Detective Rheinhardt and Max Liebermann. Max is a Jew in 1900s Vienna and a student of Freud’s work, with the psychoanalysis lending the show an interesting frame, but I’ve also really appreciated how important his family is to the show. I’ve found it really fascinating how they explore the many peoples of the Austro-Hungarian empire before its collapse, and it’s made me want to run a Cthulhu by Gaslight campaign in Vienna (elements of which I might pull forward into the NBA game).

Video Games

​Baldur’s Gate 3. (PC) It shouldn’t come as a surprise that someone whose hobbies center on Dungeons & Dragons and other roleplaying games should thoroughly enjoy this game, but I’m certain that even folks who have never rolled a d20 will be delighted by this CRPG from Larian Studios. The writing and voice performances are phenomenal, and the sheer amount of content (and thus, replayability) is staggering. I’ve logged over 60 hours playing and can easily see myself playing for 60 more. I’ve only just started Act II, so no spoilers, please!

Horizon: Forbidden West. (PS5) I was a bit of a latecomer to this game after it released in 2023, but once I started, I could barely put it down. Amazing characters? Check. Phenomenal gameplay? Check. Open-world exploration that actually evokes the feeling of discovery? Check. My only quibble is that the story isn’t quite as brilliant as the first game, but given that the first game was a masterpiece and easily in my top 5 games of all time, that’s a high bar to clear. I admit I bought a PlayStation 5 just so I could play the Burning Shores expansion when it came out in April, and while personally I had been shipping Aloy with Kotallo, I appreciate the romantic subplot being included.

What were some of your favorites from 2023? Did your list have any of the same titles as mine?

Featured image by Alisa Anton on Unsplash

[daydreamgoddess14]

We lie awake in love and fear pt. 2

MASTERLIST

From a @lilacmermaid25 prompt - Rebecca's legs cause Ted's brain to short circuit.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The window was wide open, Rebecca could hear the boys shouting and jeering with each other. She continued to work her way through her inbox until she heard Roy call the whistle when she stood and went to stand at the window so she could see them all lined up. They looked so excited to give their gift to Ted. Sam and Isaac led them off - both surprisingly good singers. She giggled at the dance moves. Roy nodded his head in time to the music, she was so proud that he’d managed to arrange the routine. By the time Dani was stepping up for his solo, she was on the verge of tears - the combination of being so very proud of the team, and of the goodbye itself. Dani’s gentle chorus of "Adios" nearly tipped her over the edge and she clutched at the window frame, leaning over for a closer look. Ted and Beard turned to watch Dani join the others in the stands as they reached the finale. She could barely hold herself upright. Then she heard Ted, with a smile in his voice. 

"Thank you fellas. That was perfect." She sighed with relief, pulled the window closed and pressed her forehead against the glass. She'd need a very large glass of wine over lunch with her mum, the day was proving just as highly strung as she’d expected. She felt like an acrobat on the highwire just millimeters from a fall. 

After their slightly awkward morning, and fortified by the wine at lunchtime, Rebecca braced herself to talk to Ted. She knew realistically that it had to be today, tomorrow was match day and she didn't want it to overshadow the game. She knew he'd sneak off as soon as he could to avoid any prolonged goodbyes, so that left her with now. Right now. She went down to the office, but it was dark and quiet. Only the pink gift bags from Keeley stood out. He'll be in the stands. She knew exactly that that's where he'd be. 

"I'm ready to talk now." She stated. And she did. She covered every thought that popped into her head, the schools, the money, selling the club. Threw in a joke about going away to “sleep, drink, fuck.” She poured every ounce of love into what was ultimately a one-sided conversation. 

"You liven up the place, Ted. I don't think I can do this without you." A sob rose in her throat. "Believe it or not, I'm not trying to change your mind. I know you have your heart set on this. I just need you to know how I feel." She placed a hand over his, "Would you… would you come back to mine? For a drink?" He shook his head. That final dismissal was almost too much. She nodded in acceptance, not daring to speak any more. Reluctantly, she squeezed his shoulder and left him to his thoughts. 

Once again, she found herself in bed with a large glass of wine, still working on the same page of her book as the previous night. Again, she was distracted by the doorbell. 

"If that's Beard again…" She mumbled. She checked the app before she bothered moving. Hoping it could be someone she could ignore - an incorrect food delivery or taxi driver. It was Ted, and he appeared to be alone. He had his back to the door, only turning when he heard it open. She wore a pink silk cami and shorts set - no robe this time. No counter to hide her legs. 

"Fuck me." He whispered. Rebecca raised an eyebrow in surprise. Well, not quite a surprise given how he’d been looking at her that morning and been trying to hide. "Sorry, Rebecca. I didn't mean to disturb you. I feel bad for how I left things between us earlier tonight. I wanted to apologise." She didn't say anything, offering him the same silent treatment he'd given her. "I'm sorry." He tagged on. 

"Would you like a drink?" She asked. He shook his head. "For fucks sake Ted, I know why you're being so… not you. But quite honestly it's giving me the fucking creeps. This odd, emotionless version of you. I don't like it. This isn’t my Te-" she stopped abruptly. Not my Ted - don’t fucking say that, “this isn’t the Ted I know.”

"I'm sorry 'bout that, Rebecca. I'm just tryin’ to get through the next couple of days, that's all. Some big emotions goin’ round the place - the game tomorrow, me leavin’. Feels like we’re all just clinging on like Jack and Rose on that door. I’m just tryin’ to make it through in one piece."

"At what cost, Ted? You’re allowed to be upset for the life you’re leaving behind, you know? You’re allowed to miss us. I can't stand to see you like this. I miss the Ted who finds humour in everything, who is so giving and so caring and so passionate, I miss-" She was cut off unexpectedly with a searing kiss. He'd taken a stride forwards, taken her face into his large hands, and kissed her hard. "I miss you." She trembled. "I'm going to miss you. So much."

"I'm gonna miss you too sweetheart. Gonna miss how riled up you get, gonna miss how when you blush, it starts right here," he placed his hand in the center of her chest, "gonna miss how loudly you roll your eyes. I'm really gonna miss your legs." She shifted closer to him, bringing her hand to his waist. She leaned up to kiss his jawline, keeping her eyes on him. "This really ain't a good idea." He muttered.

“I feel like I should say something about not always getting what you want, but getting what you need?” She muttered against his collarbone. He raised his foot behind him to kick the door shut.

“What if they’re the same thing?” She pulled away from him slightly. “If I’m leaving, I want you to know that I want you and that I need you.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“I wasn’t going to let myself do this. What if it hurts too much when you go?”

“If it was always going to hurt, then doesn’t this make it worth it?” She closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder and he swayed her slightly in his arms. After a moment, she looked up.

“Well then I want you too. And I need you more than you could possibly imagine. The trouble is I only have you for a few hours” He smiled sadly,

“I know. Do you want me to leave? I don’t want to make this goodbye any worse.” She shook her head firmly.

“No, I don’t care if it makes it worse. I don’t care, I just need you.” The tears threatened to spill down her cheeks but he kissed them away,

“I got you, baby. I got you. Let me love you.” He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her nose until he captured her mouth. He spun her on the spot and backed her into the door, the wood was cool on the silk of her nightwear and made her shiver, she pulled him closer seeking his warmth, and the weight of his body against hers. His hands and kisses were everywhere, Rebecca felt overwhelmed with trying to concentrate on one sensation at a time, trying to commit each one to memory. The roughness of his hands at her waist, on her thigh, the hot kisses against her throat and travelling down between her breasts. He caught a nipple between his teeth through her cami and her whole body arched towards him.

“Please, Ted-” she moaned. He lifted her top over her head to allow for better access and fell to his knees in front of her. She tangled her hands through his hair, pulling it gently and making him moan against her soft belly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He smirked.

“Haven’t, ooof,” she gasped as his hands moved to grab her ass and pull her towards him, “haven’t done anything. Yet.”

“Yet. May I?” He asked, hooking her waistband under his fingers. She nodded, a little bashful, and a blush bloomed from the center of her chest - just as he said it did. He took his time, following the silk material down her legs with kisses and little bites. He found the spot just behind her knee that made her giggle. “Way to ruin a moment there, Welton.”

“It’s not my fault there’s a very fine line between you tickling me and you… oh holy shit, Ted, you doing that.” He’d taken one of her legs and placed it carefully over his shoulder, exposing her to him fully, and placed a kiss at her core.

“Haven’t done anything yet.” He threw her teasing words back at her, earning him a glare.

“I can still tell you to go home.”

“Really?” He stopped completely, sitting back on his heels. She had been joking, but his commitment to checking in had her legs turning to jelly.

“No. Stay all night, I dare you.” She smiled down at him, brushing his hair off his forehead and cupping his cheek. He leaned into her and kissed her palm.

“Anything for you, Becca.” She pulled him to standing.

“Don’t say that,” she said, shaking her head, “The one thing I want is the thing I can’t have.” The comment lingered between them. Everything she wanted would be gone by morning. “But let’s not think about that now. Take me to bed so you can finish what you started.” He rested his forehead against hers before kissing her softly and leading her upstairs.

Rebecca sat on the bed and pulled Ted closer by his belt buckle.

“You’re frustratingly overdressed, Ted.” She muttered, working to undo the catch. She pushed his Richmond sweater up, a hint for him to take it off, which he took.

“I was busy with you. I’d like to be busy with you again.”

“Patience. I’m trying to tattoo this into my brain so I can remember you like this forever.” He reached down to kiss her,

“You’ll see me again sweetheart.”

“Not like this. Not for the first time.” She pushed his khakis down his legs, heat coiling in her belly at the sight of him.

“Now can I finish what I started?” He kissed her and laid her back on the bed before kissing his way down her body, getting to his knees in front of her once again. "Have I told you how beautiful you are yet?"

"Hmm. Not yet." She giggled.

"Well y'are. So beautiful, so perfect." He placed kisses and nips across her thighs, getting closer to where she most needed him, placing a strong hand on her hip to hold her still. She writhed under his kisses, getting more and more impatient.

"Ted, please, please just touch me, you're killing me." Finally, finally, he flicks her clit with the tip of his tongue, her hands fly to tangle in his hair and fuck his mouth feels so good. She was so wet and ready for him, he quickly settled into a rhythm with his tongue before sliding a couple of fingers into her and curling them. He kept pace, knowing exactly where and how she needed him. He could feel her unraveling beneath him, shaking, with his name on her lips like a prayer. As soon as she regained the feeling in her trembling hands, she pulled him up her body and into a deep kiss. "My god, Ted," she sighed, "I really am going to have to insist that you stay now." He laughed, pressing kisses into her neck while she still tried to catch her breath. She feels him, hard and hot against her thigh and it's not long before his kisses move down to her breasts with a gentle bite to one nipple while he brushes the pad of his thumb roughly over the other. She arches her back, trying to get a much contact with his body as possible. Her hand trails down between, gripping him, before slowly stroking him. He stuttered against her skin with a low moan and moved between her legs to fully cover her body. He pulled back to look her in the eye, 

"You sure about this? We can still-"

"I'm sure, Ted. I need to feel you inside me, I need to love you." He kissed her firmly as he pushed into her, covering her obscene moans with his mouth, "Yesss" She hissed, bringing her legs up to lock around his hips, bringing him deeper.

"Fuck, Rebecca, you feel so good." He rocked into her slowly, languidly, the closeness pulling her apart once again. He considered speeding up, fucking her into the mattress, but she spoke directly into his ear, biting his earlobe first, "Stay with me, Ted, I need you right here."

"I got you baby, I'm always yours." Her body trembled in his arms as she called out his hand over, and over. His release came only seconds later, he went to move but she placed a hand between his shoulder blades.

"Don't move yet." She whispered. 

"I'll hurt you." He said with a sad smile, she shook her head.

"You could never." He rolled just enough so that she could breathe easier, but held her in his arms. "I'm always yours." She repeated back to him. They cleaned up together in the shower and climbed into bed. 

"You sure you want me to stay over?"

"I dared you, didn't I? If this night is all I get, then I want all of it." She ran her fingers through his hair as he told her his plans for when he got back to Kansas. She noted how he never called it 'home'. Eventually, they fell asleep, limbs tangled together. 

Rebecca woke at some ungodly hour with Ted's hands everywhere. She wasn't sure if he'd try to sneak out, a gallant attempt to make things easier for them both, but two orgasms before breakfast made her very pleased that he'd stayed. They ate croissants together, stealing shy glances at one another, before Ted looked up at the kitchen clock and sighed.

"Back to reality?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Regrets?" 

"Non, je ne regrette rien." 

"Now you're just being cruel." Ted laughed. "Those legs? That smile? Seeing you come apart over and over? And then you speak French to me?" He shook his head. "Cruel."

"I've got to leave you with something, Ted." She giggled. "Time to go. Good luck for the match." He kissed her one final time, briefly, chastely.

They won. Not quite the whole fucking thing, thanks to Man City, but close. They spent a magical night with the team at Ola's. The live band karaoke was wild and despite Ted’s impending departure, everyone was in good spirits. Rebecca left him alone to take some time with each of the team. She'd had her goodbye. She snuck off into the night, leaving the celebrations and her broken heart behind.

She watched five planes depart after Ted's the following morning. She hadn't been able to resist one final declaration, though she had managed to not kiss him. She held off until she knew he wasn't getting off the plane, sitting with Beard and Jane until he'd given her a small nudge and said, "I think that's it, don't you?" She'd told them to go ahead, she'd see them later, and emerged into the bright sunshine of a new Monday morning. 

"It… it's you?" A familiar Dutch voice spoke up.

~~~~~~~

Read the sequel? HERE 💜

[monstresansmerci]

IMPORTANT EFFING HEADCANONS TO PONDER

CAN THEY USE CHOPSTICKS?

Yes, but for humor’s sake will often use them hilariously bad at first.

WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THEY CAN’T SLEEP?

She will call Eddie to see if he was up too. If she doesn’t get an answer, she will pop on her headphones and listen to loud music and dance around her room. Or smoke. Or masturbate. Or take a drive.

WHAT WOULD THEY IMPULSE BUY AT THE GROCERY STORE?

Stuff she normally wouldn’t eat. Whatever apples that are in season. Hershey Kisses.

THEIR COFFEE ORDER:

Black, normally. But if she can get away with it, load that shit with hazelnut and cream and sugar. 

WHAT SORT OF APPS WOULD THEY HAVE ON THEIR SMARTPHONE?

Twitter, Instagram, FB, TikTok, Tinder, Bumble, good music apps, Candy Crush, food delivery apps, Reddit, her bank. Honestly she needs to leave her phone alone more.

HOW DO THEY ACT AROUND CHILDREN?

She is going to be the Eccentric Wine Aunt for all her niblings, and any other kids she comes across. Ice cream for dinner. Horror movies. Curfews are for commies.

WHAT WOULD THEY WATCH ON TV WHEN THEY’RE BORED AND NOTHING THEY REALLY LIKE IS ON?

Infomercials. Ancient alien documentaries. Telenovelas. Soap operas. Soft-core porn on Cinemax.

tagged by: Hank @creelsclocks tagging: @edhellfire | @dontstepinmypuddle | @the-blackened-dove | @spinxeret | @guiltburdened

[fab-rico]

Professional Laundry and Dry Cleaning Services — Fabrico

Why Choose Fabrico for Professional Laundry Services?

1. Advanced Cleaning Technology

Fabrico utilizes cutting-edge cleaning techniques that go beyond conventional laundry methods. From fabric-safe detergents to AI-driven washing machines, every step is designed to provide deep cleansing while preserving fabric quality.

2. Eco-Friendly Dry Cleaning Solutions

Unlike traditional dry cleaners that use harsh chemicals, Fabrico incorporates environmentally friendly solvents that are gentle on fabrics and safe for the environment. The wet-cleaning technology ensures chemical-free stain removal without compromising the longevity of your garments.

3. Wide Range of Services

Fabrico offers a diverse range of laundry and dry cleaning services, including:

Regular Laundry Services: Washing, drying, and folding of everyday clothing.

Premium Dry Cleaning: Specialized treatment for suits, sarees, lehengas, and delicate fabrics.

Shoe & Bag Cleaning: Advanced cleaning for leather, suede, and fabric accessories.

Curtains & Upholstery Cleaning: Deep cleaning for home textiles to maintain freshness and hygiene.

Corporate Laundry Solutions: Bulk laundry services for hotels, hospitals, and corporate offices.

4. Expert Stain Removal Techniques

Stains can be stubborn, but Fabrico’s professional stain-removal experts use scientifically tested methods to eliminate even the toughest stains, including oil, wine, ink, and coffee, without damaging the fabric.

5. Free Pickup & Delivery

Fabrico makes laundry hassle-free with its doorstep pickup and delivery service. Customers can schedule pickups online or via the Fabrico app, ensuring maximum convenience.

Fabrico’s Dry Cleaning Excellence

Precision Fabric Care

Every fabric type requires a unique cleaning method. Fabrico ensures customized cleaning processes based on fabric composition, ensuring delicate fabrics like silk, chiffon, and wool are handled with extreme care.

Odor-Free and Skin-Friendly Cleaning

Traditional dry-cleaning chemicals often leave harsh odors and can trigger allergies. Fabrico’s non-toxic and hypoallergenic solvents ensure garments come back fresh, odor-free, and safe for sensitive skin.

Express & Same-Day Services

Need urgent cleaning? Fabrico offers express dry cleaning and same-day delivery, perfect for business professionals and travelers in need of last-minute laundry solutions.

Fabrico: A Franchise Opportunity Like No Other

1. Proven Business Model

Fabrico is India’s fastest-growing laundry franchise with a well-established business model. With low investment and high return potential, entrepreneurs can leverage Fabrico’s brand reputation and operational expertise to build a successful laundry business.

2. Comprehensive Training & Support

Franchisees receive end-to-end business training, including:

Operational guidance on handling laundry processes.

Marketing & branding support to attract customers.

Software integration for seamless order tracking and customer management.

3. High Demand & Profitability

The laundry industry in India is booming, with a projected market value of $10.97 billion by 2030. With increasing urbanization and busy lifestyles, demand for professional laundry services continues to rise, making Fabrico a profitable franchise investment.

How to Get Started with Fabrico?

Becoming a part of Fabrico’s franchise network is simple:

Visit Fabrico’s official website here.

Fill out the franchise application form.

Attend an introductory session with Fabrico’s franchise experts.

Set up your franchise location with assistance from the Fabrico team.

Start your journey as a successful Fabrico franchise owner!

Conclusion

Fabrico is revolutionizing the laundry and dry cleaning industry with its high-quality, convenient, and eco-friendly services. Whether you’re looking for professional garment care or an exceptional franchise opportunity, Fabrico offers the best laundry solutions in India.

For more information or to schedule a pickup, visit their website at https://fabrico.in/laundry-franchise-business-in-india or contact them at +91 120 682 4455.

Know More about Fabrico-

India’s Best Laundry And Dry Cleaning Services

India’s Largest Dry Clean And Laundry Chain

India’s Most Trusted Laundry Franchise Chain