#lucky blue layouts

[b-ubbleberry]

⠀⠀⠀｡⠀˙ㅤ　⋆ a girl who is lucky❁　 ಿৎ　　˚　　⟡　　˖　　 ࣪

[y-vna]

˖ ㅤ   . ㅤ𝄞ྀི  𝐋𝐔𝐜𝐤𝟏𝐄𝐒𝐭 𝐆𝟏𝐫𝐋 𝟏𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝟑 𝐖𝟎𝐫𝟏𝐃 💭ㅤ ݃ ⃨ ⣦᭪ 𓈒 @heavenurl

౨ৎ I swear he thought of her when he saw the sea . Why wouldn't he ? They're one in the same . . ㅤ ༜𑜞𑇓࿐ ㅤㅤ

[lvioung]

⠀⠀⠀⠀🍀⠀˙⠀⠀˖⠀ That's⠀ my ⠀girl, ⠀lucky ⠀girl⠀ syndrome

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂋⠀⠀⠀Yeah, ⠀you're ⠀a ⠀lucky⠀ girl⠀ @aeraras

[hourlyhoon]

¿¡ ㅤㅤ. ㅤㅤa best friend is like a four leaf clover:

   ◌ㅤׁ    hard to find and lucky to have @aeraras ㅤׅ𑁤

[heezngss]

𝆬 𝅄 𝑌𝑒ah 𝑖'm 𝑎 𝑙꯭𝑢𝑐꯭𝑘𝑦 𝑔irl 𝆬 𝅄

ᅟᅟᅟᅟ

⏜︵╭𐔌͡ᅟ𖹭࡛ᅟ͡꒱╮⏜︵

[kiyeuo]

cause your the one that i like (°¯᷄◠¯᷅°)🪞𓈒ㅤ◌ ࿙࿚ㅤ ۫

i cant deny- every night ur on my mind (>ཀ< )🕯️𓈒ㅤ◌ ࿙࿚

[bleumyth]

⠀𖥻 LUCKY BLUE SMITH —–—

⠀⠀TWITTER LAYOUT ꈍᴗꈍ

⠀

𔘓 requested .ᐟ

٬٬ 2 icon + 1 header.

٬٬ like ﹠ reblog if you save or use.

٬٬ please don't claim it as yours.

٬٬ credits to @kaiahadxs on twitter.

[akarilil]

▚̲ 🥛 ˘˘ kiss me # (·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )

▚̲ 🥣 ˘˘ kiss me more # (·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )

[sl33py-g4m3r]

idk what I wanted, did i get lucky?

restarted my animal crossing new horizons game~~ and idk if I got lucky or not ~~

didn't know what layout I wanted or where I wanted anything; as I generally never know what I'm going for in an island at this point... especially for theming~~~

named it: ❤️rosewood❤️ so I’m guessing maybe cottagecore theme? It’s always madness and I’ve never themed an island so this will be different ~~ i don’t usually theme and just scatter stuff everywhere it feels like, lol. I need to learn to plan better ~~

my longest running one I had during covid when the game launched and I've sadly never played a file for that long ever again....

I hope to have this one for a long time~~~ and I think I can diagonal bridge~~~

native fruit is oranges tho, and secondary is cherries.... wanted peaches dang it~~~ aside from the fruit mom gives you, and coconuts, is there any way of getting another fruit without trading or anything? I don't have nintendo switch online anymore as it lapsed at the beginning of the month cause I wasn't using it.... and my sibling isn't into animal crossing at this point~~

Whether I’m gonna terraform idk~~~ I flattened one of them and it was a lot of work~~~ tried to make a layout but didn’t know what I wanted after flattening so gave up~~

I hope this doesn’t happen again ~~

then there’s the hunt for blue roses~~~ 😮 here we go again~~ at least roses are selling at nooks cranny but dang~~~

not speedrunning the beginning again or anything else cause I think that burned me out before~~~

I like this one tho cause the resident services is kinda far from the airport, and the north beach is unobscured by cliffs and isn’t in the middle~~~ that annoys me so much to have the north beach in the middle somewhere ~~~

and maybe I can finally diagonal bridge without having to terraform my own~~~ which I have problems doing tbh~~~ but it’ll be a long time before I even get there if I play super casually…

and hopefully every day~~~ once again~~~ like I played daily when during covid… this game released at such a good time~~~ or I probably wouldn’t be into animal crossing sadly ~~~

hoping to keep this one for the long term~~~

questions~~ can you obtain 3 kinds of fruit, aside from coconuts in a single game?? Native fruit, sister fruit, and one from mom?

sibling says that they found a third type of fruit aside from coconuts, of fruit, or the one mom gives you, but I’ve never had this happen ~~ 😞

also I don’t think my western beach has rocks~~?!? Aside the rocks at the northern side~~~ never had that happen before ~~~ there are always rocks on all the beaches ~~ how~~?

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑻𝑶𝑶 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 | Cillian Murphy

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 — Are y'all sick of my "ushy gushy" smut yet? LOL. Also ya'll fw this new layout? I fear it's kinda cute and slay...

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — Cillian's wife and kids are out of town, and your parents are in Italy for the next month, leaving you home alone. What's the harm in getting close and spending some time with your slightly awkward, DILF neighbour?

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 — 3.3k

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 -> 18+ ONLY smut, age gap (unspecified but reader is in college, Cillian is late 40's), cheating on both ends lol, Cillian is married with kids but reader dont give a fuck like ok baddie

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Cillian watched you in your window from his window, in his home, across from yours. Curiosity gets the best of everyone; sometimes you just wonder what your neighbours get up to. 

That’s what Cillian was doing — he was just curious about what the young, beautiful, sweet college student next door was up to. His house faced yours, which meant if you left your curtains open, he could see into your home…but in the year you’ve lived across from him, it’s not like he’d ever seen you do anything except the most mundane things. 

Flipping through the pages of your textbook and taking notes, calling your friends on the phone and giggling at something they said, posing adorably for some selfies in your kitchen to send to god knows who or post to god knows where. He didn’t understand it, but it was cute, reminding him of the years so far behind him now. 

It was innocent…until it wasn’t. 

You moved from your hometown with your parents to Dublin, Ireland a year ago, leaving your life behind and attending college here instead. Cillian talked quite a bit with your parents, hence the whole “neighbours” thing, but he always found you to be sweet…and his wife and kids seemed to think so too.

Last week, you’d mentioned to his wife that your parents were going to Italy for the next month to travel, and he couldn’t help but find himself wondering what you’d do when you were home alone. Probably studying, she seems pretty invested in school, he thought. 

It was almost time for his kids to go to sleep, and he could hear his wife talking to them as she got them ready for bed, but he stood in his living room and watched you through your bedroom window. You were giggling on the phone with who he assumed were your friends, and he sighed to himself as he saw your youthful smile. He was reminiscent of his younger years as he watched you.

He observed as you threw your phone down for a second on your bed, before getting up and— 

His jaw went slack as he did a double take. You casually started to take your clothes off and tossed them onto the floor of your bedroom, but that’s not what caused him to lose his composure. 

His eyes widened and his heart rate accelerated as his blue eyes wandered all over your figure, watching you from the window and unable to look away as he took in the lacy, intricate and extremely sexy lingerie you were wearing under that baggy sweater you had on not even a minute ago. 

The see-through lace hugged your body beautifully, and the material allowed him to see your perky breasts through the sheerness of it. He almost choked when you bent over to grab your phone from your bed again, as the lingerie left pretty much nothing to the imagination. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled aloud to himself, feeling his cock starting to strain against his pants. This was wrong. Oh, it was so wrong — but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

He watched with a clear hard-on now as you held your phone up, giggling to yourself as you started to pose and take pictures in the lingerie, presumably sending them to some very lucky guy. Who were you sending them to? Who was getting to see your body up close like that? Who—

“Honey?” His wife’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned around as she came into the kitchen. He leaned against the island in the middle of his kitchen to hide how hard he was. God bless this kitchen counter, he thought. “What are you looking at? I kept calling you upstairs.” 

“Right, erm,” he coughed, clearing his throat and turning around to your window to see you were no longer in your room. It was just an empty, dimly lit bedroom in his view now. “Nothing. Thought I saw a deer or somethin’ in the yard.” 

His wife hummed in acknowledgment, clearly unaware that he was just basically participating in some form of voyeurism with the girl next door who was young enough to be his daughter.

“Don’t forget to drop the dog off next door tomorrow at noon,” his wife reminded him, and Cillian’s breath hitched at the reminder.

Fuck. He forgot that his wife and kids were going to visit his wife’s side of the family for the week. He couldn’t go due to a conflict in his work schedule, but he was going to drive them there and pick them up the following week. He also forgot that his wife asked you to watch Scout, the dog, for the day while he drove them up there. 

“Cillian?” His wife asked as she looked at him with a raised brow. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, I heard you,” he said as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ll bring Scout over at noon tomorrow.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’d just tossed on your most cozy oversized sweater and some short-shorts as you headed downstairs, hearing knocking at your front door. As you swung the front door open, you saw Cillian standing there with Scout, who started to wag his tail happily. 

“Hey,” you smiled at him before you started petting Scout. “And hello to you too, Scout!” 

As you took the leash from Cillian, he looked flustered as he swallowed, giving you a small smile. “Thank you again for watching him.” 

“Oh, it’s really no issue!” You assured him with a friendly smile. “I’m home all day studying anyways, and my parents are out of town for the next month. I could use the company — plus, me and Scout are best buds anyways.”

Scout barked happily, and you continued to give him a few more pats. Cillian couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander back to last night; the image of you in your sexy, lace lingerie was still fresh in his mind. He cleared his throat, “Well, I’ll come and swing by around 6 to pick him up. Not too late, is it?”

“Gosh, not at all,” you giggled, letting Scout roam through your home as you started to close the door slightly. “I’ll be up late studying so…” 

“Thanks again,” Cillian said, waving goodbye to you as you shut the door softly.

Later on that day, once Cillian returned home after dropping his wife and kids off at his mother-in-law's house, he knocked on your front door once more to pick Scout up. 

You opened the door and smiled sweetly as soon as you saw him, “Hi, Cillian! How was the drive?” Your voice gave him butterflies, and he knew it was wrong, but after seeing you and what you got up to after dark, he couldn’t help it. 

“Ah, it was good — boring,” he joked, his smooth, Irish accent making you blush a bit as you handed him Scout’s leash, to which he handed you something as well. 

He handed you an iced coffee with a warm smile, “Here — just a little thank you for watching Scout. I remember you saying iced coffee was your favourite a while back, plus you mentioned you’d be studying all night…” 

“You didn’t have to do that!” You said sweetly, returning his warm smile, and taking the coffee from him. “But thank you, I could definitely use the caffeine.” 

You waved him off as he left with Scout and closed the front door behind you. As you got back to your kitchen, you felt yourself getting giddy for some reason after your interaction with him, though you tried to push it aside. He was just your much older, super attractive, neighbour — oh, and he was married with kids. 

You shook the thoughts out of your head as you placed the coffee down on your kitchen counter, suddenly noticing some scribbled letters on the side of the clear, plastic coffee cup. When you spun it around, you saw a handwritten message on it, and your heart stopped for a split second. 

Thank you, pretty girl :) 

You blinked a few times as you stared at it. Your eyes lingered on the handwriting, momentarily caught off guard. Was he just being friendly or was there an ulterior motive behind it? 

The following day, you returned home from your classes, and as you got out of your car, you noticed Cillian coincidentally unlocking the front door to his house with some grocery bags in hand. He glanced up as he pushed open his front door and saw you, a friendly smile crossed his expression. 

“Following me home?” He teased, and you giggled whilst you shook your head, textbooks in hand. 

“I mean, if I was following you, I’d definitely be trying to sneak a peek at what you’re cooking for dinner.”

Seizing the moment, he decided to just be bold with it. “Yeah? Why don’t you come over then?” 

“…What, like right now?” 

“You can tell me all about your classes while I cook dinner,” he replied innocently as you walked over to his front door. His words made you feel awfully juvenile…and excruciatingly hot and bothered. 

As you got comfortable in his kitchen, he unpacked the groceries and you sat on a barstool against his counter, watching the way his t-shirt was ever so slightly too tight against his arms and chest, showing his muscles off. 

“Make yourself comfortable. How does pasta sound?” 

“My favourite,” you giggled. “...So, do you always invite your neighbours over to help with dinner or am I just special?” 

Cillian glanced over his shoulder as he prepped the ingredients. “You’re definitely special. I’m not usually this straightforward, but something about you…” He trailed off and the unspoken tension lingered in the air. 

“Speaking of being ‘straightforward’ — I have to ask about that coffee from yesterday.” 

“Oh? What about it?” He feigned innocence. 

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice the cute note on the cup. ‘Thank you, pretty girl’? It definitely caught my attention...” 

“I’m glad it did,” he chuckled before pausing for a moment. “…I meant it, though. You’re very pretty.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, and he turned back to look at you again, his blue eyes making your breath hitch. “I– well, thanks,” you laughed thinly with a blush. “Sorry–I just didn’t expect you to think…I just…” 

His gaze continued to linger on you as his expression softened. “I hardly think you find this surprising considering you must get guys chasing after you all the time,” he said as he took a step closer to you. “You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve…noticed you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you sensed some weight behind his words. “Oh? Noticed me how?” 

Cillian hesitated for a beat before he decided to push the boundaries, seeing how far this could go. How far you would allow him to take it. “I saw you the other night, through your window. Taking those pictures…”

You went wide-eyed as you let his words sink in. “You were watching me through my window?!” Your voice came out in a shocked whisper, and he bit his lip shamelessly.

“I didn’t mean to at first–” he choked out in an attempt to defend his behaviour. “But once I saw you I couldn’t look away…”

You paused, and the silence hung heavy in the air before you spoke up.

“Well, if you’re that curious, I could always show you the pictures. Or…” You swallowed as you looked at him, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I could just show what’s underneath my clothes right now...”

His eyes went wide and he got closer to you, hesitantly reaching his arm around your waist as he pulled you into him. His eyes darkened, breath catching on your words. He hesitated, clearly torn morally. “You know I’m married…” he whispered, but it seemed like he was attempting to remind himself that rather than telling you.

“Right…and I was sending those pictures to my boyfriend,” you casually replied. 

Cillian’s eyes flashed with something dark, a mixture of surprise and unspoken jealousy. His resolve broke completely, unable to hold back anymore. There was no point in pretending to resist now, and he let out a sigh as he cupped your face.

“So, we’re both breaking a few rules then?”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you looked up at him far too innocently for what was happening right now. “You know what they say about rules,” you whispered. “They’re meant to be broken.” 

Cillian suddenly closed the gap between you two, kissing you with a hunger that felt insatiable. His hands came to pull you right up against him, and you gasped into the kiss when you could feel how hard he was already. He’d barely even touched you. 

You kissed him back with a hunger that surprised you both, and your hands came to clutch onto his shirt. He backed you into the countertop, which started to dig into your back, but that was the last thing on your mind — him fucking you being the first. You continued to kiss each other feverishly until neither of you could stand the build-up anymore. 

Between sloppy, dirty, messy kisses and wandering hands all over one another’s bodies, he started to undress you right in the middle of his kitchen. You only hoped your other neighbours weren’t as “curious” as he was and god forbid they looked through his kitchen windows as he ran his warm hands all over you at this very moment.

“Shit,” he choked out when your clothes hit the floor, revealing some rather racy lingerie underneath. “Are you tryna’ kill me?” 

“Am I getting you all worked up?” You teased, as you ran your hands against his chest. “You know I’m young enough to be your daughter, right?” 

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you cupped his cock through his jeans. “That shouldn’t turn me on but, fuck, you keep talkin’ like that and I’m not gonna last…”

“We haven’t even fucked yet,” you giggled, pulling him in for another kiss. “Do me a favour — try not to give yourself a heart attack when you put it in, okay old man?” 

“Shut up,” he scoffed a laugh before kissing you passionately again. His hands snaked behind you, unclasping your sheer, lacy bra before it fell to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your matching panties. In retaliation, you got him out of his shirt before he turned you around and pressed you against the cold marble of his kitchen counter.  

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled as he gave your ass a light slap, causing you to moan. He slowly pulled your panties down from behind you, letting out a groan as he took in the sight of your drooling cunt, all soaked and ready for him to fuck.

He hoisted one of your legs up onto the kitchen counter and placed one of his hands on your hips. You heard his belt being unbuckled and his jeans being unzipped as he pulled his throbbing cock out, the tip flushed and leaking. He inhaled sharply as he pumped his cock a few times with his hand, before running his fingers through your dripping folds. 

“Look at that,” he cooed by your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “All soaked and ready for this cock, yeah?”

“Fuck,” you sighed, feeling him poke your entrance with the tip of his cock. “Need you inside of me, please.”

“Yeah, I bet, baby,” he said softly before pushing himself into you fully with one swift, long thrust. You let out a strangled noise at how he stretched the walls of your cunt and he moaned as his hands found purchase on your hips. Cillian wasted no time as he started to rock his hips back and forth, his thick cock going in and out of your wet, warm hole with ease.

He watched in awe as he looked down at his cock disappearing into your pussy, all warm, tight, and wet for him. “You’re so– fuck, baby. God, you’re so much tighter than my wife.”

“Oh my god,” you whined, his words only making you wetter as you heard your pussy making those squelching sounds. “A-am I?”

“Fuck, yeah you are,” he agreed, ramming into you faster now. You let out choked moans as you felt him pound his thick cock into your cunt, the tip of him reaching the deepest places inside of you. “Takin’ my cock like a good little girl, aren’t ya honey?”

“M–hmmm,” you mindlessly babbled, cock-drunk on his thickness. “Your good little girl…” 

“That’s right,” he purred, slamming himself as hard as he possibly could into you. “You’re my fuckin’ girl.” 

“Yeah…” You sighed, your body going slack as you tightened up around him. You hadn’t realized how close you were, and his arms came to wrap around your chest, pulling you against him as he rammed himself up into you deeper. Your head went slack too as you let it fall back against his shoulders. 

“Gonna come?” He cooed softly as he noticed how fucked out you were starting to get. “Can you be a good girl and come on my cock for me?” 

“Mmm,” you groaned as you saw stars, creaming his thick cock as you shut your eyes and continued to let him pound you senseless through your orgasm. “I’m…I–”

“And what was that earlier about me being old?” He joked as you failed to formulate a proper sentence, feeling himself about to come with you as he watched your mind go blank from his cock in your dripping, slick cunt. “Yeah, fuck — tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever felt.” 

Cillian felt himself pour his warm cum into your worn-out cunt, and he rested his head on your shoulder as he gave you a few more lazy thrusts from behind, still holding onto you tightly. The two of you were silent as you caught your breath in his kitchen, your body continuously being pressed up against his as he stayed buried deep inside of your hole. 

After a solid few minutes, he finally pulled out gently, making you whine. “Hang on, honey,” he said softly, placing a gentle kiss behind your ear. “Let me get a cloth.” He grabbed a towel from a kitchen drawer as his cum ran down your leg and dripped out of your cunt, before wiping it up gently. 

As he cleaned you up, he turned you around and you got lost in his hypnotizing blue eyes again. He laughed under his breath, cupping your face with his hands. “You’re so pretty,” he breathed, taking in your youth, your beauty and…you. All of you. “Just…beautiful.”

You blushed, smiling up at him dopily with a sigh as you leaned into his touch. For a moment, the silence between you was comfortable, but there was an undeniable weight to it. His eyes said something…unspoken. 

He let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’ll…I’ll figure something out,” he murmured, voice steady with emotion. “About my marriage. About us. About everything”

“Cillian,” you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness in his tone. “You don’t have to–”

He shook his head, his thumb still brushing against your cheek. “I do because we’re already too close,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “Too close to go back, too close to pretend this doesn’t matter.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat at his words, your heart beating much faster now. He softly bumped his nose against yours as he left a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. “We’ve already crossed the line, crossed every boundary,” he whispered. 

“But your family—” You started, the weight of reality pressing in. You could easily break things off with your boyfriend, but he had much more at stake than you did.

He cut you off gently, his gaze soft but unwavering. “I know what I’m risking, but I can’t pretend this doesn’t matter. You matter to me,” he paused in thought before he pulled you in again, tangling his hands in your tussled hair. “Like you said; rules are meant to be broken. If we’ve already broken every rule, then what else do we have to lose?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

@kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebellebarnes @wiseyouthinfluencer

@abprill @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii 

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura @fiona-my-love @cranecat

@hfidnnf @strangeions @randomcreator-09

[lipglossanon]

Out of the Blue

* ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ►*

Office Exec!Leon S. Kennedy x Personal Asst fem!reader

Shoutout to the AO3 user who requested this little ditty 😆 I hope you enjoy it!! 👉👈🥺

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, office sex, dirty talk, dacryphilia, nipple play, mean Leon, unprotected sex

Title from Out of the Blue by Purrple Cat

part ii

* ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ►*

A recent corporate merger meant big changes for you; you’ve been working as the personal assistant of the (then) Vice President of Communications, but with this new management coming in, that guy had been shifted and you were getting a totally new boss.

Nervously, you’ve been straightening up the office in the hopes of making a good impression— and thereby keeping your position. No one on your floor knew who the new guy was, only a name to go off of: Leon S. Kennedy.

Once you feel like there’s nothing more to be done, you step out of the VP’s office and make your way to the mini kitchen used as a break room down the hall. Hoping that a glass of water might cool your nerves, you don’t even notice the man standing on the other side of the room flipping through a folder.

His eyes track your movements, catching your jittery hands and teeth biting your bottom lip.

You nearly drop your glass when he clears his throat. Whirling around, you give him a shy smile.

“H-hi,” you smooth down your skirt, “you’re one of the new hires?”

A handful of people on your office floor were still coming and going, learning the layout and at times just hanging out in the break room until someone came in to help guide them. You helped a girl just yesterday find her desk, so you don’t think anything of this newcomer.

A slow smile spreads across his handsome face, intense blue eyes staring into your own.

“You can say that, sweetheart.”

You feel flustered at the name but step forward, hand outstretched, “Oh uh, welcome aboard. If you need any help, just let me know. Right now I’m stationed outside the vice president’s office.”

His eyebrows raise slightly, ignoring your offered handshake, “You’re the secretary?”

You ignore the flash of irritation from hearing ‘secretary’ and slowly lower your hand, “I prefer personal assistant.”

“Ahh,” he looks at you amusedly, and before your hand can drop any further he reaches out to clasp it.

He drops a kiss on the back of your hand, eyes still watching you, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet my personal assistant.”

You feel hot and embarrassed, but keep the polite smile on your face, “I’m sure the pleasure is mine, Mr. Kennedy.”

:::::

After that mortifying encounter, your days pass pretty smoothly with your new boss. You feel lucky that he decided to keep you on as his assistant even with that awkward first impression.

After a few weeks, you start to catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye—but when you turn, his attention is elsewhere. He also seems to touch you at every given opportunity. He touches your arm when he’s walking with you or presses a palm into your lower back when he’s moving around you to his seat in the conference room. He gets as close as possible when you’re typing up his reports or dropping something off at his desk for his signature. It always leaves you with butterflies.

Another work week rolls by and before you can blink, it’s been months since you’ve started to work for Leon. A few of your work colleagues like to corner you in the break room to try and get any gossip— who’s he seeing? Did he really come in twenty minutes late last Monday? What do you mean you didn’t hear that Chris saw him at the strip club?

It’s gotten to the point that you start taking your breaks at your desk. Leon notices it almost immediately and makes sure to stop by your desk from time to time. Today is no different.

“Tired of the office gossip?” He props his hip against your desk, arms crossed over his chest as he looks down at you.

You notice that he folded the sleeves of his shirt so you can see the muscles in his forearms flex. Dragging your gaze upwards with a small shake of your head, you smile at him.

“You can say that,” you pinch the bridge of you nose, “it’s all just..”

“Bullshit.”

Your eyes widen as you stifle a laugh, “I was going to say tiresome, sir.”

He smirks, “Sure thing, honey. Listen, I’m going to need you to stay late tonight. I know it’s Friday, but those weekly statistics have to be in before midnight.”

Your brows furrow, “I thought we were good; didn’t I just compile that data yesterday?”

He clicks his tongue, “‘fraid not, sweetheart. That was projections for the latest quarter.”

“Oh,” you chew your lip, “yeah, that’s no problem, Mr. Kennedy. Want me to drop them off on your desk when I’m finished?”

“Yes, thank you,” he brushes a few strands of hair from your face, making your breath hitch.

Before you can say anything, Leon straightens up from your desk and heads back into his office, door shutting behind him.

You press your palms to your eyes, willing the flutter of nervousness to ease. Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, you slump in your chair. You sigh and turn back to your monitor. Glancing at the time in the lower right hand, it reads fifteen after four; with everyone going home at five, you have a good feeling you’re going to end up staying even later than you thought.

You rotate your wrists and then go into your emails. Better to get started on it now than later.

::::

Your eyes feel dry and gritty, but you ignore it in favor of finishing out the last of this report.

“Finally,” you whisper gleefully, hitting the print button on the document.

Standing up, you stretch out your arms with a small yawn. Looking at the time you see it’s nearly half past ten. Still plenty of time for you to grab some takeout and crash in your comfy bed. You sigh happily at that thought and gather up the printed pages, heading over to Leon’s office.

Tapping on the door, you open it a crack, “Sir?”

“Come in, sweetheart. I won’t bite.”

You push open the door just enough to step inside. It clicks shut behind you as you walk further into the room. Leon is backlit by the city lights from his windows. You place the bundle of papers down on his desk.

“Take a look at this,” he gestures to his own dimly lit monitor.

Walking around the wide oak desk, you make your way to stand beside his chair.

After gazing at the screen for a second, you turn to him with a frown, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m looking at, sir.”

He smirks at you lazily, “Sure you do.”

“Wh—“

He grabs your hips and pulls you down into his lap, your thighs now straddling one leg. Your hands come up to brace against his shoulders while his slacks rub against your bare thighs where your skirt’s rucked up.

“Leon,” you gasp, eyes wide and nervous.

“Name sounds so good in your mouth, sweetheart,” his low voice breathes into your ear.

He drops a soft kiss on your neck, leaving a heated trail up to your jaw. Pulling back, you can see how dark his eyes have gotten.

“Been waiting forever to get you alone.”

“We can’t. I’m your—“

“Personal assistant,” he chuckles meanly, “I know, baby. And I’m going to use you for very personal reasons.”

He grips your hair in a fist and guides your mouth down in his. Your parted lips lets him slip his tongue into your mouth. Groaning, he grabs your ass with his free hand and urges you to roll your hips forward.

You whine, feeling so hot and dizzy, clit thrumming with arousal. You follow the guidance of his hand and start to grind your hips down into his leg. You eagerly suck on his tongue when he thrusts it back into your mouth. You feel him groan low in his chest and it makes you arch into him more.

He tugs your head back to take in your blitzed out expression.

“Baby, we haven’t even started yet,” he coos, “got you cockdrunk already huh.”

“Leon,” you whimper, hips rocking on his lap.

“Gonna get my pants soaking wet baby,” his eyes drop down to the apex of your thighs, “fuck, that’s it, good fucking girl.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, wrinkling the fabric of his designer shirt.

“Knew you’d be so fucking sweet, always letting me touch you, get so fucking shy,” he growls, pulling your hair harder to tilt your neck back, “gonna ruin this little cunt, baby.”

You whine, humping down into his leg harder, slick pooling in your panties and dripping all over his slacks.

“Fuck, good girl, always so good for me,” he lets go of your hair to grip your neck, “always so eager to please.”

He presses his thumb into your panting mouth; he presses down onto your tongue before pulling his thumb free and smearing spit all over your lips.

You can’t stop whining, tears beading at your lash line.

“Leon, please.”

He lets go of his grip on you, and reaches out to tug open your button up blouse.

“Look at those fucking tits, baby,” he purrs, pulling the cups of your bra down until your breasts are completely bare—aching nipples on display.

He greedily mouths at each breast and sucks on your nipples, teeth catching on the sensitive buds until you’re clawing at his shoulders.

“Good girl,” he praises, feeling you shudder at the endearment, “you’ll be good for me, won’t you?”

“So good for you, Leon,” you promise.

As you speak, he undoes your bra and tosses it somewhere in the office. Then, he drags his fingers across the swell of your breasts. He circles your sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing the slowly hardening buds.

Your breath hitches, arousal pulsing in your cunt, “Leon...”

“Bet I can make you come from this,” he husks, “make a complete mess of you from just teasing your tits.”

Your spine arches, pressing up into his hands, “Ahh, they’re too sensitive.”

Leon completely ignores you and tugs your nipples gently, softly tweaking them before soothing them with slow drags of his index fingers.

Panting, your hands twist in the fabric of his shirt. Your clit throbs with every brush against your nipples, but you can’t stop yourself from pressing up into every touch.

Everything that Leon’s doing is making more slick pool in your panties. You’re so wet, it’s seeping into where Leon’s slacks are pressed against your pussy. You can feel the hard press of his cock against you and it sends a thrill up your spine knowing you’re the cause.

“So eager for me, honey,” he teases, voice pitched low, “I want you to take your clothes off.”

“Yes, sir,” you nervously agree, shimmying out of your blouse and skirt quickly.

“Leave the panties on for now,” his dark eyes locked onto your white panties, nearly transparent from how wet they’ve become.

Settling down on Leon, you straddle his thighs, your legs dangling off the sides of the chair. You bring your arms up to tangle your fingers in his hair. You give a small tug and roll your hips down against the outline of Leon’s hard cock. In retaliation, Leon gives your nipples a sharp tug then tweaks them as you writhe in his grasp.

“Look how wet you are, honey,” he groans, gaze drawn to the slick dripping from your panties, “so fucking sexy.”

Your eyes droop in pleasure at those words a low sigh leaving your lips.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” Leon growls out, letting his gaze roam across your swollen nipples up to your dazed expression, “always so sweet, making me want to do the worst things to you.”

“Yeah?” You whimper.

“Want you under my desk at the next conference call, sucking my cock while I’m trying to work,” he drags one of his hands from your chest up to your lips; he slips first two fingers into your mouth.

“Actually just want you in here on your knees at my beck and call. Just keep the door locked and nobody’ll know my little secretary is sucking off her boss during work hours,” he presses his fingers deeper into your mouth.

You whine and suckle on them softly. He pulls them out with a soft pop.

“Touch me, please, sir,” you whisper as he drags those fingers down to your puffy nipples.

Leon sucks a hard nipple into his mouth as his right hand teases across the other with quick flicks of his damp fingers. He swaps sides, his gaze watching you bite your lip and toss your head back at the pleasure. Pulling away a little, Leon grabs each breast and presses them inward. He runs his tongue from one nipple to the other more easily, suckling them until you squirm in his lap.

“You’re gonna be working a lot of overtime, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin, “my own personal hole to use when I want.”

You keen high in your throat, “Sir!”

Leon groans low in his chest and rolls his hips upward to grind his cock against your hot wet cunt, nearly jostling you from his lap. In the motion, Leon’s sharp teeth tugs on a nipple earning a breathy sigh from your lips. He swaps to the other nipple, using his teeth so you’ll reward him with more of those sounds. After repeatedly teasing each nipple with his teeth, you tug at his hair in a silent plea to slow down. He eases off from biting to soft, gentle sucks.

“Love your tits, baby,” he mouths at your nipples, “been wanting to taste these nipples since I started working here.”

You cry out at the hot, wet suction of Leon’s mouth on your sore nipples. Your back curves forward to press your chest closer to his hungry teeth and tongue. You tangle your fingers further in his hair to have something to hold onto. Grinding your hips down, you feel more than hear him moan. You repeat the motion only this time your clit grinds against Leon’s slacks, earning a low cry of want.

“Leon,” you whimper.

He only hums in reply as he keeps up the hot suction on each hardened nub. You try rolling your hips again only to be stopped by a strong grip on your waist.

“You only get to cum from this,” Leon rumbles, voice deep as his tongue lashes against your abused nipple, “be a good girl for me or you won’t get anything.”

You mewl, clit pulsing in arousal, “I’ll be good, sir, I promise.”

He moves your hands to drape across his broad shoulders, “Don’t let your hands drop below my shoulders. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

A sharp tug of teeth on your nipple has you arching in pleasurable pain. Your hands slide up into his hair again to hold him in place, worshiping your chest.

“So perfect,” Leon murmurs, lazily mouthing his way up to your neck.

“So sweet for me,” he speaks against your skin, gently kissing across your collar bones before pulling away.

You feel dizzy and aroused, tugging Leon’s hair to pull him into a soft kiss. He groans low in his chest, pressing you harder against him as he licks into your mouth. He teasingly nips at your bottom lip, sucking on it gently before slipping his tongue further in. You moan in response, loving the feel of his slick tongue teasing your own. His hands came up and grip your hair, tilting your head at an angle where he can kiss you even deeper than before.

Before long the kiss became sloppy and wet, but neither of you really care. You can’t stop whining in pleasure as Leon fucks into your mouth, tongue hot as it teases your own. Chest rumbling in pleasure, Leon draws your tongue into his mouth to suck on it greedily. You slip your tongue away to pull his plump bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling gently before softly sucking. You drag your teeth aggressively against Leon’s lip, tongue following in silent apology for the rough treatment.

Leon growls and pulls back far enough for you to let his lip go with a small pout. His cock twitches at how debauched you look. Pupils blown wide with lust, lips kiss swollen. He moves his hands from your hair to grip your hips. You know his hold’s tight enough to bruise but you only moan in appreciation. You dip your head down to recapture his lips, but he pulls back so your mouths only brush across each other.

You whimper at Leon withholding his lips from you.

“I want to hear how you sound once you cum,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours tantalizingly.

Fingers begin to roughly pinch and rub your swollen, sore nipples. His dark blue eyes never leave yours as you edge closer and closer to orgasm, your cunt copiously dribbling slick.

“I’m so close, Leon,” you whimper, trying your best not to grind down.

Leon smirks, “Guess I should slow down, huh?”

His fingers lightly tease over the hard peaks. His gaze drops from yours to take in the swollen nipples his fingers are touching. He groans aloud as he can’t deny himself another taste. You grip his head as Leon eagerly laps at your nipples, running his tongue across each one before gently biting.

“Please,” you beg, “Leon!”

Leon bites down harder on your left nipple as he gives the right a sharp twist. Your eyes roll back in your head as Leon gets even more aggressive. Harsh bites followed by a hot soothing tongue has your cunt dripping and needy.

“Like it rough, baby?”

You only moan wantonly in reply as Leon never lets up the assault on your abused chest. You continue to gasp and moan in the empty office.

Leon’s being so rough on you and you love it. Want him to pin you down right here and now. Make you cum all over yourself. Make you take his thick cock over and over.

Leon pulls away with a growl, pupils blown, “Honey, you can’t say things like that.”

You suddenly realize you had spoken out loud— babbling, just spouting out whatever crossed your mind. You’re so far gone now, high on arousal.

“I-I can’t help it,” you pant, “it’s so good, sir.”

“I know, my slutty little secretary just can’t help herself,” he pulls away from your chest, “she’s just gagging for her boss’ dick, right?”

You whimper, back arching, “N-no, I’m—“

“Shhh,” he thumbs open the button on his slacks, “was gonna wait but you need it more than I thought.”

He presses the fabric down until he frees his cock. He tugs your panties to the side and presses the fat head of his dick inside your wet hole.

“Was gonna make you cum from your tits but I think this might be a bit better, huh,” he grins, eyes dark and mean.

He doesn’t give you anytime to adjust and fucks up into you, grabbing your hips to pull you down at the same time. You scream from the too much feeling in your spasming cunt.

“Oh,” he groans, “tight as a fucking virgin.”

He smacks your ass with a condescending laugh, “Did I pop your cherry, sweetheart?”

Crying now, you shake your head no.

“Aww,” he mockingly pouts at you, “that’s too bad then.”

Without waiting for your pussy to adjust, he pulls out halfway to bully his fat cock back into your aching hole.

“Sir, please, I can’t,” your breath hitches on a cry, “s’too big. It hurts.”

“Fuck,” he pulls you down until his cock is buried deep in your pussy, “my big cock too much for this needy hole?”

You hiccup a sob, “Please, sir.”

“Mmm you’ll get used to it,” he pulls out til just the tip is teasing your hole then shoves his cock back deep inside your pussy.

You’re crying and clinging onto his shoulders, but a low heat is slowly building in your abdomen.

“There we go,” he coos, “just needed to fuck you a little first, honey.”

He stopped thrusting and you realize you’re the one grinding down onto his dick—a panting mouth, hazy eyed mess.

You whine but can’t stop your hips from rolling down onto the thick cock stretching you out so painfully.

“Good girl,” he smacks your ass again and you moan.

“You can ride this dick whenever you want, honey, just gotta ask,” he smirks, guiding your hips to fuck down harder.

“Yes, sir,” you slur, brain fuzzy from how deep he’s inside your cunt.

“Little slut,” he laughs, thumb brushing against your clit in slow circles, “cream my cock, honey. Want you squeezing on me when I breed that little pussy.”

You moan loudly, hips humping down on his cock, “Leon!”

“That’s right,” he groans low in his chest, “gonna creampie your sweet little cunt.”

His voice and hard cock, paired with the thumb on your clit, is edging you closer and closer to climax.

“Sir, ‘m close,” you pant, tears dripping from your eyes, “gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“That’s it, honey,” he tilts his head down and pulls his thumb away from your clit.

He spits on your pussy, globs of drool dripping down the hood of your clit. He brings his thumb back to rub the slippery mess over and over and over into your sensitive bud.

Your back arches, eyes rolling back, as you clamp down on his pistoning dick. Slick coats his cock as you cum, pussy walls squeezing him like a vice.

“Fuck yeah,” he chuckles, thumb still pressing into your clit, “cream my cock so I can fill up that cunt.”

Your thighs jump and twitch from overstimulation as he keeps teasing your clit and grinding his cock deep in your pussy.

“Take it, honey, fucking take it,” he grits out, snapping his hips up into your squelching hole and pumping you full of hot cum.

You moan brokenly, pussy fluttering around his throbbing cock, liking how it feels to get creampied by your boss.

He leans back into his chair with a sigh, “Damn, gotta say that’s been worth the months of us dancing around each other.”

Your head feels totally empty so you only hum in response.

“Did I fuck you dumb, sweetheart?” He smirks, tweaking your nipples making you squeal, “s’okay, we got all weekend to do this. Just need you back in business by Monday.”

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine inviting Rick Grimes to shower with you.

The idea of a shower was one that nearly made your knees feel weak with relief, since you and the crew had been walking, mucky, filthy, for weeks. You knew it wasn’t exactly going to be the warm shower of your dreams, but even room-temperature water was better than nothing at all, and would make you feel like a brand new person. There were only a couple of showers and you were lucky enough to claim one of them before everyone else dropped on the opportunity, and your eyes met Rick’s - someone who didn’t even fight for one. Not that you were complaining about it but he was too damn selfless sometimes. Rick was just leaning against the wall, taking in the layout of the facilities that you had come across, when he noticed you looking at him, his blue eyes sending a lightning bolt straight to your heart with how gentle they were looking right now. Rick raised an eyebrow when he saw you weren’t running off like the other shower-claimers were. You stepped in towards him, closing the distance to say quietly, “What do you think about saving a bit of water and showering together?” “Hey now,” Rick said, his head moving down to be next to yours, his curls tickling your forehead. “You think you can come and tempt me with ideas of saving the environment?” “Would you mind if I did?” You asked, raising your eyebrows, biting down on your lip as you could feel his grizzled facial hair against your cheek with how close he was standing. “Plus who knows how long we’re going to be able to make these showers last. I’m only thinking about supply, of course.” The smile on your face was telling an entirely different story, and Rick chuckled, kissing your cheek tenderly, his hands going to your hips and turning you in the direction of the nearest bathroom with the shower. “All you had to say was together,” He said, giving you an eager little push forward, an excitement showing in his eyes that he hadn’t had for quite a while.

Requested by: Anonymous

[paradlselost]

ATONEMENT —

noir x fem!reader x homelander

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ based on this ask from a little while ago . sorry it’s taken so long , i got a second job and i’ve been really busy </3 . anyways i’m obsessed with this new layout ; sorry i keep changing it lol . reader is left intentionally vague on whether or not their a supe !

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ set sometime in between s3 and s4 , earving lives au . smut : abuse of power , coercion (?) , degrading names used in and out of sex , p in v , oral ( m receiving ) , deep throating , m / r / m pairing , public sex , voyeurism , unprotected sex , cream pie . 2.2k words . NOT BETA READ

His tongue swipes over his front teeth, sucking on them sharply in an attempt to regain some composure. The corners of his mouth twitch back and forth between a pained smile and a deep frown. Hatred brews behind those blue eyes of his, no doubt crafting a punishment in his head.

Poor, stupid doll, it wasn’t your fault now was it? How were you to know the truth of Homelander being Soldier Boys son would send him spiraling? You’re just a girl, after all, naive and stupid. He can see what Earving likes in you, how you look up at him with those innocent eyes.

Corruption flows through his veins like blood, his hand audibly clenching in his glove. Oh, you’ll have to do something pretty sizable to make up for this fuck up, bunny. You’re lucky he didn’t reach in and tear out Noir’s heart, perhaps you would’ve seen the blood pumping to the sound of your voice, or how your name is carved into the organ.

Lucky you, Lucky Earving.

“Look I’m sorry okay? We’re sorry. But don’t you think Vought would kill us if we told anyone?” You still have a smart mouth even when faced with his power, you run your lips like you’re invincible, as if one laser won’t halve you.

“Well he managed to tell you somehow. What? Am I not good enough to have the one thing he knows I want more than anything in the world?” There’s laughter sprinkled into his words, hate-filled and angry. You should tread carefully unless you want to get your pretty self damaged.

Homelander tilts his head to the side like a curious dog, watching as you worry your bottom lip in between your teeth. What answer could you give him? Yes, Earving could’ve told him if he really wanted to; how are you meant to defend your boyfriend's actions?

“You could’ve told me, doll.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what more I can say, you know now and look how it turned out. He didn’t want you.”

“Don’t fucking say that. Keep your goddamn mouth shut.” He advances faster than you expected, gripping your chin to force your mouth closed. The red leather feels hot against your skin, as if he’s burning in rage, seething through every line he speaks.

You can only whimper against his glove, always having hated the nicknames he bestowed on you. Doll, Bunny, Sunshine, a slew of others that he pulled out when he was antagonizing you. Demeaning you. An ant beneath his heel, a weed he hasn’t plucked in his garden quite yet because, despite being a pest, you’re an awfully pretty sight to look at.

So how you got scooped up by someone like Noir is a mystery to him.

“You’re better quiet. ‘Should laser your damn tongue out, won’t be talking much then, huh sweetheart?” He grins, sadistic intent playing on his features as he forces you to shake your head, another whimper escaping through his leathered hand. “Maybe someone should keep it preoccupied, then. I bet you’d look prettier with a cock in your mouth.”

Oh, how his smile only widens when he sees your eyes dilate in fear. Your hands reach up to grab at the leather still covering your mouth; to try and get some words out. Maybe an apology, a pathetic beg, he only shakes his head in response as his other hand grabs the back of your suit, forcing you to walk with him.

“Don’t look so scared, bunny. I won’t do anything to you, dont’cha trust me?” Perhaps his hand over your mouth is a good thing, vile words threaten to fall from your lips - holding nothing but contempt and anger for America’s favorite supe.

At first, you’re not sure exactly where he’s taking you. The halls of Vought Tower are long and winding, and look especially so in the state after Soldier Boys destruction; rebuilding yet empty. Almost liminal. You only manage to get your mind out of shambles as you see the statues of the Seven in front of the door. It’s fleeting, and in a moment you’re pushed onto the cold tile floor of the meeting room.

Noir is beside you in a moment, crouching down to help you back up. He’s gentle as his gloves rake through your hair and gently graze over the little bruise forming on your skin. It’s a complete shift from the red glove that was on you moments ago. Earving makes you feel safe and secure in contrast. He’s your home.

You can hear The Deep suppressing a laugh from his spot at the table, then quickly silencing himself. No doubt getting a look from Homelander. How the mighty have fallen, another empty chair in this ‘team’ as Maeve had disappeared after the big fight. They were falling apart at the seams.

“Go on, put that body to use.”

You blink at the words that cut through the eerie silence of the room, your ears practically ringing trying to pick up on anything they could - so you felt stupid when your brows furrowed in confusion at his command.

“What?”

“You heard me, put your body to use and take Noir’s dick.”

“Huh? Why the fuck would i-“

“Maybe I should just rip his heart out, then. Or are you going to atone?”

Noir is quiet, as always, yet somewhere behind the black mask and balaclava he always wore you could hear his breath catching in his throat. The glove that had been on your face finds its way back, gently taking hold of your chin. It takes a pitiful amount of time for you to realize what he means, that he wants to go along with this. Above everything else, you know self preservation is the most important thing to him.

Again, Homelander could cream his fucking pants at the way you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. His fists clench and unclench at his side, desperate to be the one putting hands on you; running them over your body and tracing every curve and pattern your skin makes. Perhaps he could memorize your fingerprints if he tried hard enough.

“Do these assholes have to be here for it?” The Deep snickers a bit more, his chair moving from side to side as he got a bit more comfortable for the show. A-Train looks a bit mortified, you were never particularly close with Reggie and knew how much of a prick he could be, but every interaction has been at least amicable, so it wasn’t a stretch to say he was a bit uncomfortable being put in this position.

“I’ll leave-…”

“Sit the fuck down, A-Train. No, we’re all going to watch.”

A small yelp at a sudden grasp of your hips, the rough fabric of Noir’s gloves being ingrained in your mind. He’s as gentle as he can be in this situation, it’s not the first time you’ve been put in such an embarrassing position in front of the others. It seemed Homelander had a special hard on for making you the spectacle for the others amusement.

A sigh fell from your lips, partly all too used to this and also smart enough to know he wasn’t playing around. No, he was pissed, and like the man-child he is if he says he’ll tear out Earvings heart, you know it’s not simple empty threats.

It’s nice, regardless. Noir has a way of shutting everything else in the world out - of making it just you and him. His half charred and mangled lips feel nice through the balaclava, pressing gentle kisses against your pulse point as his gloved hands slip down your front.

God, what a whore, leaning back into him like that in front of two powerful supes. And the Deep. Homelander doesn’t bother suppressing his grin as he leans back in his chair. What a good bunny, maybe he’ll have to play this card more. Maybe, in time, that’ll be his hand against your clothed cunt, pressing a digit in and using the leverage of the fabric as friction to make you mewl and squirm.

He could clap his hands together at the sight, like watching an amazing performance. Black gloves travel to grasp at your hips, guiding you forward against the V-shaped table, folding your body over the cool glass. It’s not the first time he’s done this, not the first time the meeting room has been used for this reason; after all, you two have been together for years.

But it is the first time you’ve made eye contact with Homelander while your mute boyfriend rocks his hips forward against yours, grinding into you.

At some point between Earving fumbling to get your suit off and the asshole in the chair re-adjusting himself, the Deep and A-Train were conveniently called away for some reason. It wasn’t organic, part of you knew Homelander somehow told someone to call them, but did you really care? He was kind enough to give you some privacy, you should be grateful, doll.

In some way you are, more so as Noir finally manages to get your clothes out of the way and slots himself behind you. He won’t take off his own suit, you know this, not someplace someone else could see - and someone else is actively seeing, but you won’t complain. Not when the feeling of his cock trailing against your folds is a good excuse to close your eyes and block out the blue ones boring into you.

He offers no prep. It’s not the first time you’ve taken him without it; but it’s rare and still foreign to your body. He knows, being as gentle as possible as he eases himself further and further into you. The stretch makes it feel like the first time all over again, soft tears pricking at your eyes which makes Homelander chuckle more. What a prick.

But you. Oh, you. What a beautiful sight you are to him as he practically blocks out the fact that his only ‘friend’ in the seven happens to be fucking you in front of him. He can imagine it’s him, imagine how sweet you would feel around him. Your breathing picks up, sharp whines and mewls interrupting your panting as the thrusts become deeper.

God, he wants to taunt you. Does that feel good, bunny? Is he reaching that spongy spot? But from the wanton moans that fall from your pretty lips and the way you put your body weight fully onto the table he knows there’s no way he’d get an answer now.

That familiar red glove reaches to grab your hair, at some point the mighty Homelander decided he could no longer sit back and watch, but needed to be a part of your atonement. Eyes fluttering up to watch him fumble single-handedly with his suit, you bite at your bottom lip, stifling moans and whimpers from Noir behind you; threatening to roll your eyes back.

“Can’t let lover boy have all the fun.”

And he doesn’t. Managing to get that part of his suit undone and awkwardly pushing the slit of his red white and blue boxers out of the way, your lips are almost immediately pressed against the tip of his cock. Angry red and weeping, who are you to tell him no? It gets rid of the eye contact, at least; so your lips part to invite him in.

It doesn’t take long for the glass table underneath you to fog up, the sweat accumulating on your body making it easier to rock back and forth with the rhythm of Earving’s thrusts. His black gloves grip your hips harder, almost possessively as he leans down to press his chest against your back, helping to keep you in place. His balaclava is damp from his own sweat and breathing, dog-like panting ringing in your ears.

His hips are stuttering just as Homelander’s head lulls back with the hollowing of your cheeks around him, hands gripping your hair tighter and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. He loves to make you gag, it seems, hitting the back of your throat as much as he possibly can, using you to milk his leaking cock.

It doesn’t take long, and maybe in some other position you would’ve made a snarky comment about how soon the mighty Homelander came in your mouth, but with your throat coated in white and Noir following not far behind him into your needy cunt, you’re naturally lost for words.

Earving lifts you up and off Homelander, burying his masked face in the crook of your neck and pulling his balaclava up just enough to kiss and mark you like he does after every passionate encounter together. He’s a man of romance, and it feels sweet against your hot skin.

Such a good bunny, so sweet as you lean back against your boyfriend, pretty eyes fluttering closed from exertion. You didn’t get to cum, but you don’t complain, he likes that about you. A good doll should know when to open her mouth and when not to, he just hopes you learned your lesson.

“We’ll have to do it again sometime, yeah sunshine?”

[crystallizedtwilight]

🎃 LSBC Questions: Part 21! 🎃

Lock, Shock, Barrel, and Calliope questions that call for quick answers will be under the cut in batches of 10-15 🧡

Previous bulk questions batch

The tomb portals lead all over the world! I imagine some monsters might learn additional languages over time, perhaps the more ancient ones already have! Shock always tries to learn just enough of a language to order them food at festivals. [1] [2] [3] [4]

He still mixes up their names!

The Town Trio are side characters in this AU so I won't be going into their lives too much.

No. Sally IS queen in this AU, though! As such, she helps plan Halloweens (Jack eagerly listens to her excellent suggestions) and she also acts as a great source of advice for any townsfolk who need her wisdom (they all adore her). She also pursues her dream of being the town seamstress and finds her new roles of wife, queen, and fashion artist everything she ever dreamed of 🧡

You're telling us we get to run wild? And scare humans? For CANDY? It was a magical night and it wasn't long before they became known as Halloween Town's Finest Trick-Or-Treaters!

Heights are here! I purposefully made Shock and Lock the exact same height (because of course they'd turn it into a competition) and the most hilarious option is that it's a perfect tie!

Red is Lock's favorite color so he thinks humans got lucky with that one. Still, having grown up in Halloween Town, the trio are used to all different types of anatomies and differences being the norm, so humans are just another species with their own quirks!

Probably not. They know each other as the names that make them happiest now and that's all they need. And they both probably think it's too sappy to admit but...since their names are a play on a merism that embodies the concept of "completeness" it helps them feel like they're a part of something and that they'll always have each other.

The trio enjoy being called by their full names by friends and partners!

Shock and Lock reacted with skepticism that Shock eventually surmounted and Lock still hasn't fully. Barrel was just excited for a new area for him and his friends to have fun in.

Snack: Honey butter toast Dog: ALL (though Zero is a top contender) Time of Day: Night Weather: Clear skies so she can see the stars Color: Blue Place: With Shock

Before and after the upgrade Layout Each of their rooms

Halloween Town is incredibly diverse in all aspects, where there is no standard way to be, nor pressure to be anything other than yourself. Shock always knew she liked women, Lock always knew he liked men, and Barrel always knew he liked all.

Calliope knows Shock's childhood was rocky mostly through "I know how you feel" comments relating sadness, and has the general understanding that the trio weren't always on the best terms with the town, but Shock will tell her when the time is right.

I always imagined the trio were the only ones with up-to-date technology but the idea of Jack getting a phone that he can't use just to be up to speed sounds hilarious. Like it rings and he's just like "Magnificent! 😄" and puts it back in his pocket.

[thingsorganizedneatly]

Over 700 Fortune Cookie Papers

I ran the blog Fortune A Day for ten years, from August of 2011 to August 2021. As part of the blog wrap-up I did a final layout of all the physical fortune papers.

Here's a process gif:

The full set was laid out by color (papers had blue, red, and black text). More specifically they were grouped by font, and whether or not lucky numbers and Chinese phrases appeared on front or back. However, it's hard to differentiate those sub-groups in pictures of the full set. I made a couple posts about the full layout (the first one here) in order to show some close-ups (the second one here), and also posted a takedown video on IG (linked in the third post).

For those who enjoy numbers organized neatly, individual fortune image posts were tagged with numbers when the papers listed a set of "lucky" or "lotto" numbers. An evaluation at the end of the blog showed that the numbers 1 through 56 and 76 are considered lucky. 57 through 75 and 77 and up are unlucky. I go into details on this post.

(All photos by mee. Images inserted with descriptive/alt text.)

[r3starttt]

LUCKY CHARM

PAIRING: Abby x reader

SUMMARY: This, almost?

CW: Part 1? maybe. sfw. tlou universe. fluff. very Christmas-winter- whatever vibes ig.

TAGLIST: @twopeoplee @greysontheidiot @sapphic-ovaries @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @prwttiestbunny @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @abbys-muscles @lott6i @abvisionss @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @fakevalentine

It was an unseasonably cold morning, the kind that crept into your bones and refused to leave, but cold waits for no one. You pressed forward, beginning the ritual of your day as if on autopilot.

A large window near your bed offered a panoramic view of the snow-draped stadium, its once vibrant greens now muted under a heavy blanket of frost. Out there, a few determined figures were already at work, their breath visible in the biting air. It stirred something in you—a silent reminder of your own responsibilities. You needed to hurry.

And hurry you did. The shower was brief, a fleeting luxury that barely warmed your skin. The water seemed to mock the chill outside, its heat rationed, shared among the stadium’s many residents. The scent of pine soap filled the space. It wasn’t your usual brand, but you’d taken what you could during your last errand.

It was either adapt or go without, and you had chosen the former, though it left you longing for the small comforts of familiarity.

Dressed in layers of warm clothes, you tugged on your scuffed, weathered boots. "I really should get new ones," you muttered to yourself. You pulled your coat tighter, the zipper’s reluctant rasp breaking the silence, and stepped into the shared hallway.

The number 200 greeted you as you turned to lock the door with the hope that your roommate wouldn’t need access anytime soon.

They should really issue double keys for shared rooms.

The corridor stretched ahead, illuminated by the cold, sterile glow of white light. The walls bore the weight of history, adorned with big photographs of soccer players clad in iconic blue uniforms, their frozen triumphs preserved in time.

Beyond the open doors at the far end, a second hallway beckoned, leading to the stairs.

The cold seemed to deepen as you moved closer to the heart of the stadium. The vast, empty space amplified the chill, making it almost palpable. Two automatic escalators stood beside the concrete stairwell, their age evident. You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the escalators. The thought of their worn mechanisms giving way beneath your weight sent a shiver down your spine.

Opting for the safer path, you descended the concrete stairs, your fingers trailing along the icy blue railing, its metal biting against your skin.

The hallway below was a gallery of memories—faded photographs of players, their faces etched with determination, and gleaming awards, victories now frozen in time. The stadium’s logo, a bold blueprint against the white walls.

You pushed open the gray door at the bottom, and the muffled hum of conversation spilled out, growing louder as you stepped inside. The familiar scent of food wafted through the air, rich and inviting, mingling with the sound of clinking dishes and muted chatter. The communal dining hall buzzed with life, a stark contrast to the stillness of the corridors. But food wasn’t your destination—not today.

You turned to your right, peering through the narrow gap between the walls toward the modest display of cleaning products. Hope flickered faintly in your chest—perhaps this time you’d find what you needed- what you wanted. The small thrift shop was a makeshift affair, its layout haphazard yet functional.

A single counter acted as a barrier, forming a narrow path for people to queue, their presence marked by the shuffle of boots against the concrete floor.

You approached the counter, stepping beside a woman you vaguely knew. Her tall frame and blonde hair were unmistakable; you'd seen her just a few days ago picking up burritos for Manny.

Manny, who had no regard for lines or patience, had caused a commotion loud enough to turn heads that day. Though you hadn’t exchanged words with her then, his sharp call of “Abs!” had stuck with you. Now, here you were, standing next to Abs herself.

She leaned against the counter, her forearms resting casually on its surface, waiting for the attendant to return from helping another customer. You mimicked her stance, your fingers idly drumming a soft rhythm on the cold concrete.

The chill seeped into your skin, but you didn’t mind, the wait gave you time to think, to observe.

The woman behind the counter flitted between tasks, her movements efficient yet unhurried. She shot you a cursory glance of acknowledgment before turning her attention to the blonde.

“Still looking for the soap, huh?” she asked, her voice tinged with a knowing amusement as she rummaged through a crate behind her.

You chuckled softly, nodding in affirmation. “Yeah. The pine one didn’t really do it for me.”

Abs turned slightly, her interest piqued. “The pine one? Not a fan?”

You shrugged, feeling her gaze on you. “Not really. It, uh, kind of reminds me of an old man. I mean, it’s fine—it suits the season, but it’s just not my thing.”

Your comment drew simultaneous laughter from both women. The shopkeeper smirked, holding up a familiar bar of soap—the very one you had lamented over weeks ago. “Hear that, Abby? You smell like an old man.”

The realization hit you, mortification washing over you in an instant. “Oh God, no! That’s not what I meant—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your hands flailing slightly as you tried to recover. You cut yourself off, turning to the attendant with mock indignation. “Can you not cause drama between your customers?”

But she merely chuckled, sliding a few familiar items across the counter towards you. “Saved this for you. Thank me later,” her tone still laced with playful mockery.

Abs chuckled, brushing your shoulder lightly with her hand as she paid for her own items. “Don’t worry about it."

You paid as well, gathering your essentials awkwardly into your arms. As you turned toward the clothing section at the back of the shop, a thought struck you—new boots. The ones you were wearing were barely holding together, the sole starting to peel away. Perhaps today was the day to replace them.

You knelt down near the rows of second-hand clothes and shoes, your thick layers making the movement cumbersome. Most of the shirts were worn thin, their fabric stained or frayed beyond repair. Pants hung limp and uninspiring, and then—there they were. Boots.You reached for a pair but quickly realized your hands were too full to properly check the size. With a resigned sigh, you shifted the items to one arm, fumbling to get a better look.

“Need help?” The voice came from above, and you glanced up to find Abs standing there again.

You hesitated briefly before nodding. “Please.”

Without another word, she held out her hands, taking the pile of items from you with ease. Freed from your burden, you examined the boots more closely, only to discover they weren’t your size. A frustrated groan escaped your lips as you stood back up.

“No luck?” Abs asked, handing back your items with a small, sympathetic smile.

You shook your head, glancing down at your current boots. “No. I really need new ones because—” You trailed off, gesturing to the peeling sole. “It could probably be fixed, but honestly, getting new ones would be easier.”

She hummed thoughtfully, scanning the room. “There’s another section over there,” she said, tilting her chin toward a far corner. “I can carry your stuff while you check.”

You blinked, momentarily surprised by her offer. “Are you sure?”

She shrugged, already taking the items from you again. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

Her casual kindness caught you off guard, but you didn’t argue. Together, you moved toward the next section, Abs trailing behind you as you crouched to inspect the rows of boots. After what felt like an eternity of searching, you finally found a pair in your size. Relief washed over you as you held them up triumphantly.

“Got them!” you announced, standing up with a grin.

Abs smiled, handing back your essentials as you began awkwardly juggling everything. “Thanks a lot,” your gratitude spilling over. “And, uh...” You hesitated, glancing at her bar of soap. “I’m really sorry about the pine thing.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it. At least I smell seasonal, right?”

You laughed too, nodding shyly. “Yeah, you do.”

As the moment stretched, she tilted her head slightly. “You’re the girl from Room 200, right?”

You frowned, caught off guard. “Yeah... why?”

A knowing smile played on her lips. “One of my friends asked for our room to bring in your roommate, I assume?

Realization dawned, and you laughed along with her. “I was wondering where she was.”

The two of you shared a brief silence, the kind that didn’t feel awkward but comfortable, like an unexpected pause in an otherwise chaotic day.

For the first time in a while, the cold didn’t feel so oppressive.