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trashytracktales · 6 months ago

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idk if my last ask got sent but merry christmassssss, keep shining !!

second, i need THIS https://x.com/yovremine/status/1871164598306677111?s=46 for oscar piastri in order to survive pretty please 😭💗

Aerodynamic expertise | OP⁸¹

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Yes, I'm still working on my requests from last year. We read, and we dont judge (pls) 😔👍🏻

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🏁 summary ──── Oscar has been busy most of the day, and when she comes to check on him, the limits of focus, patience, and desire are tested in the most intense way.

🏁 pairing ──── Oscar Piastri x she/her reader

🏁 rating ──── explicit

🏁 category ──── F/M

🏁 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, smut, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex, playful teasing and dominant/submissive undertones.

🏁 word count ──── 3.5k

🏁 date ──── Jan. 18, 2025

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OSCAR’S HOME OFFICE is a small room in their apartment that should’ve been her walk-in closet. The walls are decorated with a mix of framed photos from his racing career and minimalistic art prints, while a sleek bookshelf stands in the corner, its shelves filled with some of her books, and various trophies, medals, and scale model replicas of his helmets.

A small lamp casts a warm glow over his workspace, but the rest of the room is swallowed by the darkening evening. The desk is neatly organized — his laptop open, and a pile of documents on one side, almost forgotten.

He’s been reviewing updates on the car’s aerodynamics package the entire afternoon, slightly furrowing his brow as he read through the material, one hand adjusting the headphones over his ears, and the other making notes in the margins of a printout. Oscar has always been the type of person to lock in and get the job done as well as he could. For the moment, his focus remains intense, the faint sound of white noise humming through his headphones, lost in the details of drag coefficients and weight distribution.

He doesn’t notice the light tapping of footsteps approaching the office, nor does he hear the soft creak of the door as it opens.

She walks in, lingering in the doorway for a while, smiling to herself at the sight of her boyfriend who’s still so immersed in his work. His concentration is so characteristic — calm, methodical, and entirely unbothered by the passing of time. However, the late hour has her a little concerned. And annoyed. She crosses the room and stops behind him, leaning slightly to catch a glimpse of the technical drawings on his screen. Without a word, she gently places her hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly, but he doesn’t react, her touch way too familiar.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a work-related visit?” asks Oscar, his voice as calm as ever but laced with a trace of amusement; he’s not even bothering to look up at her, but rather relaxes under her touch.

“It can be,” she teases. “You’ve been in here for hours, and if that’s how I win some time with my boy…” she adds, leaning in to rest her chin on the top of his head, while her hands wrap around his shoulders from behind.

Oscar chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I know, sorry. I’ll be done with it soon.”

She tries to appear unaffected, but it bothers her a little. He’s been ignoring her for most of the day. Even though she knows that Oscar needs time for his work, that doesn’t make it any easier for her to comply. It’s already hard enough having to adjust to his calendar all year round. Having to do that when he’s at home it’s simply ridiculous.

She rolls her eyes playfully while walking around his chair, resting her back against the desk while facing him. “How soon?” she asks curiously. “It’s dark outside, and you still haven’t told me what you want for dinner.”

He glances at the clock on his laptop and winces. “Ah, shoot. I didn’t realize it was that late. Sorry,” he says again, “I kind of got carried away.”

She hums in mock disapproval. “Typical. I’m convinced you’d survive on data sheets if I wasn’t here, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, probably,” he admits with a small smirk, his hands reaching instinctively for her hips. “Alright, so what are the options?”

“Well,” she begins, carefully sliding onto his lap, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck. The sudden shift in weight forces Oscar out of his focus, and he pulls off his headphones so he can hear her better. “I could order pizza,” she says, trailing a thumb lazily along the back of his neck, “Make something quick, or we could raid the fridge and hope for the best?”

Oscar tilts his head as if weighing the choices. “Pizza sounds good, but why do I feel like you’re leaning toward option three?”

She smiles, shrugging, “Because I don’t like wasting food,” she replies. “So. You coming?” the girl asks, her tone soft and inviting.

Oscar pulls back slightly to look at her, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “I just need to finish this. Can’t leave in the middle of it.”

“Yes, you can,” she cries in protest. “Come on, Oscar. You’ve been staring at this for hours. If it’s not done by now, it can wait until tomorrow.”

“Baby, it can’t,” he insists, gesturing to the printouts on his desk. “If I don’t understand the updates, I’ll go into the next test session blind. They’ve tweaked the front wing, and I need to see how the airflow changes affect the balance.”

She crosses her arms, eyeing him. “Then let me help. Two brains are better than one, right?”

Oscar snorts, shaking his head with a grin. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but unless you’ve suddenly become an expert in aerodynamics, I’m not sure how much help you’ll be.”

“Oscplain it to me then,” she challenges.

Amused, he picks up one of the papers and holds it between them. “Alright, let’s see. This here,” he points to a diagram of the front wing, “Is the new design they’ve proposed. See how the shape is slightly curved here and flared out at the edges?”

She nods, her eyes following his finger as it glides smoothly across the sheet of paper, then descends lower, to his veiny forearm.

“It’s to channel the air around the tires more efficiently,” continues Oscar, his voice patient but lightly teasing. “Turbulent air from the tires can disrupt the flow to the rear of the car, which affects stability and speed. By tweaking this part, I’m guessing they’re hoping to create a cleaner stream of airflow.”

“Great! You already know what’s up,” she jokes, her lips curving into a small smile.

Oscar chuckles, “It’s just basics.”

“Bet,” she insists, taking the paper from him, then grabbing his hands and placing them back on her waist. “Keep going. What happens after the air goes around the tires?”

His hands instinctively begin to trace the curve of her body as he continues, “Well, the clean air flows down the side pods, feeding the diffuser at the back. That’s where most of the car’s downforce is generated. It’s all about keeping a nice balance, because if there’s too much downforce, the car is slower on straights. Too little, and it can’t corner properly.”

As he speaks, his fingers tighten slightly on her waist, mimicking the precision he’s describing. She shifts under his touch, her breath hitching just enough for him to notice.

“And, baby, balance is everything. I’ll tell you that much for free,” he adds just as his hands slide over her sides, his thumbs brushing along her ribs. “You know, the car has to respond perfectly to input. Too much force in one area, and everything gets… destabilized.”

She bites her lower lip absently, her eyes locked on his face. “Mhm, and what about this area?” she asks, her voice low as she guides his hands higher, molding his palms on the curves of her breasts.

His throat bobs as he swallows, but he keeps talking, his tone steady even as his pulse quickens. “That’s like managing weight distribution. Every shift changes the dynamics. You’ve got to be… very gentle. And precise.”

His hands squeeze her gently before letting them roam lower now, gripping her thighs, and she lets out a soft gasp just as Oscar adds, “But sometimes, you need more force,” he says, his fingers pressing more firmly into her skin. “Especially when you’re going through high-speed corners. It’s about finding that sweet spot where everything works in harmony,” he pauses, his eyes flicking to hers. “You follow?”

Oscar’s lips twitch into a knowing smirk, and for a moment, he forgets about his diagrams and work entirely. The room feels somehow smaller than it actually is, warmer, the technical jargon fading into the background as his focus shifts entirely to her.

She looks at him, while adjusting her position on his lap. The slight push forward sends tiny, yet intense sparks through her body, and her breath hitches again.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her voice laced with feigned innocence, “I’m getting there.” Oscar smiles again at her words, but before he can say anything, she continues, her hips moving ever so slightly against him. “But,” she breathes, leaning closer, her lips brushing against his ear, “I think I need some additional explanations, though.”

The air between them grows heavier, and Oscar exhales slowly, his control fraying at the edges. “Is that so?” he asks, his voice dropping as his lips ghost over hers in a shallow kiss, teasing but not giving her everything. “I can do that.”

She hums in response, the sound dissolving into a soft gasp as his fingers dig into her skin, pulling her flush against him.

“You want me to show you?”

“Mhm,” she nods, fighting demons in order to keep her whimpers inside.

“I told you about tire degradation, yeah?” Oscar presses another light kiss to her lips, pausing just long enough to make her chase him for more. Which she does. “You don’t want to overheat,” he says, his hands moving down her sides to anchor her hips. “But if you’re too cautious, you won’t get the performance you’re looking for, either.”

She lets out a shaky chuckle, her hips grinding subtly against him. “Makes sense,” she nods, her voice breathy and full of need.

Oscar lets out a soft groan, as her movements on top of him send a rush of heat through him.

“When I’m in the car, I need to push just hard enough to stay in control,” his hands slide to the curve of her waist, guiding her rhythm, “But not so hard that I lose grip entirely.”

Her moan is quiet, but it cuts through the charged air between them. She tilts her head back slightly, her lips parting as the friction builds. “Oscar…” she breathes, her voice trembling.

His jaw tightens, his restraint wavering as her hips move against him more purposeful under his careful guidance. “See?” asks Oscar rhetorically, his tone rougher now, “You’re getting it. Find the sweet spot, and everything just… clicks.”

She leans forward, her forehead pressing against his as her breathing grows heavier. “We’re still at the basics?” she asks, her lips brushing his as she speaks.

Oscar smiles, though his own composure is clearly slipping. “Not really. It takes time and patience to perfect the technique. It took me lots of practice,” he says proudly, his voice thick with desire.

She laughs softly, the sound quickly dissolving into another quiet moan as he presses her even closer, his hard length straining against her through their clothes. His lips finally capture hers fully, the kiss deep and consuming, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer.

She cups his jaw, pulling his face toward hers, and presses her lips to his in a firm kiss, while his hands are slipping up to hold her more securely. Without breaking their connection, Oscar’s hand fumbles for his laptop and, with a practiced ease, he grabs it and shifts it onto the windowsill on their left. At the same time, his other arm wraps around her, lifting her as though she weighs nothing and settling her on the smooth surface of his desk. As a result, some papers flutter to the floor unnoticed, minor casualties of the heated atmosphere sparking between them.

Her focus is entirely on how Oscar moves — the way his hands slide under her shirt, the cool air kissing her skin as he pushes the fabric higher. Her body arches instinctively as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of her shorts, seeking almost curiously.

“Oh,” she gasps silently, her hips jerking forward at the first brush of his fingers against her slick heat.

Oscar’s breath hitches, and a quiet curse slips from his lips. “Shit,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at her flushed face. “You’re soaked already. Should we work on optimal traction here or?”

Her laugh is breathless, almost a whimper, as he presses a finger inside her, curling it just enough to make her shudder. “Optimal… something,” she whimpers, her thighs trembling slightly as he adds a second finger, stretching her just enough to make her squirm.

“Ease into it, baby,” he encourages her, his focus split between the way she reacts to his touch and the growing tightness in his own body. His free hand grips her hip, holding her steady as her movements grow more animated by the second. “Too much too fast, and you’ll spin out before we get to the apex, remember?”

She tries to reply, but all that escapes her is a high-pitched moan as his thumb brushes against her clit. And then his name, like an intense prayer dripping from her lips.

The sound of her voice, breathy and pleading, sends a jolt straight through him, his arousal pressing almost painfully against the fabric of his pants.

His lips twitch in a half-smile, though there’s a rough edge to his voice when he speaks again. “That’s it,” he says, his fingers working her with practiced ease. “Controlled inputs. Smooth handling. The sweet spot.”

Her body responds to him as usual, her inner walls clenching around his fingers as a broken cry falls from her lips. “Oh my—Oscar,” she gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders for support.

Oscar exhales sharply, his jaw clenching as he fights to keep his composure. “Fuck, I know. I know,” he mutters under his breath, the sensation of her squeezing his fingers making his mind wander. He imagines how good she’d feel around his cock instead, warm and tight, pulling him in and driving him to the brink.

The thought nearly undoes him, and he grips her hip tighter, guiding her as she rocks against his hand. “You’re doing so well, baby,” he says, the words slipping out in a low rasp. “Yeah, look at you.”

Her head tilts forward as her moans grow louder, her movements more frantic, almost never enough for her to relax. She watches through her eyelashes as his fingers pump in and out of her pussy without hesitation, feeling the tips putting pressure inside with each stroke. “Please. Feel so good,” she moans softly, her voice breaking, alerting Oscar that she’s close.

“I hear you, love. Come on, then,” he says, his tone both encouraging and commanding. “I’ve got you.”

It is his voice that pushes her over the edge. He sounds like he is utterly intoxicated by her and the way her body responds to him, always. His words seem to be covered in a generous layer of honey and equal worshipping, which drives her higher and higher. Her body tenses, and then she shatters around him, her release hitting her in waves that leave her trembling. Her cries echo in the small room, mingling with the sound of their heavy breaths.

Oscar watches her with a mix of satisfaction and awe, his fingers still gently stroking her as she slowly comes back to herself. His chest rises and falls heavily as he sees how affected she is. Gently, he withdraws his hand, his fingers glistening with her arousal. With his other hand, he brushes a strand of hair from her forehead, his thumb lingering on her cheek.

“You okay?” asks Oscar in a tender voice, a stark contrast to the rough edge it held moments ago.

She nods, a small, blissful smile playing on her lips as she meets his gaze. Her hands are easily sliding down to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palms.

But then her gaze drops, and her smile grows mischievous. “Are you okay?” she asks, her tone dripping with mock innocence as her hand trails down to the unmistakable bulge straining against his pants.

Oscar stiffens slightly, his breath hitching when she palms him through the fabric. “Bloody hell,” he mutters.

“You know, I’d give it some attention,” she muses, her thumb tracing over his tip through the material. Her eyes flick up to meet his, playful yet wicked. “But you’re obviously so busy with work. It can wait, I guess.”

His eyes snap back to hers, narrowing slightly as he reads her intent, but before he can respond, she’s pushing him back into his chair. Oscar exhales sharply, his hands instinctively gripping the armrests as she stands, retrieves the laptop from the windowsill, and places it back on the desk in front of them.

“Stop,” he warns, his voice low, but it’s more a plea than a command.

“Stop what?” she asks in an innocent manner as she tugs her shorts back up, the fabric clinging to her curves.

Smiling, she leans down to gather the papers scattered on the floor, clearly putting on a show for him. Her movements are purposeful, the curve of her ass drawing his gaze like a magnet.

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” says Oscar, almost annoyed at her audacity. “And it works.”

She glances back over her shoulder, with a playful glint in her eyes. “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about, babe.”

Once she’s seated back on his lap, her thighs slick with the remnants of her orgasm, she shifts slightly, her weight settling over his aching length. Oscar lets out a shaky breath, his fingers instinctively finding her waist again, gripping her softly.

She starts scrolling through his laptop documents, pretending to focus on the technical details in front of her. “Hm, were were we? Ah, yes. Air flow dynamics…” she reads, her tone intentionally casual.

It’s pure torture for him.

Her warmth is teasing him through the thin fabric separating them, and the subtle movements of her body have his control is slipping.

Almost defeated, Oscar pushes her hair to the side and presses his lips against the sensitive curve of her neck while she keeps reading off the screen. He stopped listening long ago, too high on her simple presence. His kisses are soft at first, but as his need grows, they become much more desperate; he is hungry, after all. For her.

One of his hands slides up under her shirt, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her stomach.

“Can I slip inside?” he whispers, his voice husky and full of need.

She tilts her head back slightly, smirking at him. “Can you multitask?”

That’s all the permission he needs.

Oscar works quickly, freeing himself from his pants, just as his hand slides between her thighs, pushing her shorts to the side just enough to expose her. The tip of his cock presses against her heat, and the fullness as he slowly pushes inside has them both moaning simultaneously.

“Fuck, so warm,” he swears, resting his forehead against her back for a moment as he adjusts to the feeling.

Her body opens up for him immediately, clenching tightly around his length as he lifts her hips slightly, only to pull her back down. She’s slick, her arousal making it easy for him to glide in and out, but the tightness still has his breathing ragged.

Her head falls back against his shoulder as she moans softly, turning her head to continue with her teasing, “The coefficients and flow angles could really—”

Oscar exhales sharply, cutting her off. “Alright, fuck. I’ll finish tomorrow,” he says, his voice strained, giving in entirely.

He stands suddenly, bending her over the desk as he cups the curve of her ass, guiding her hips back onto his cock. The angle shifts, and the deep stretch makes her gasp. His thrusts are slow and measured, but the way her body clenches around him makes it impossible for him to keep it as simple as that. Gradually, he picks up the pace, the sound of their bodies joining mixing with her muffled moans.

Her elbows rest on the desk as her head drops between her shoulders, every movement pulling her closer once again. It is too much, yet still not enough. She wants to feel all of him, but then Oscar is pulling out, forcing another cry out of her.

She tries to protest by pushing back against him, and Oscar is not wasting a breath, chasing a well-known feeling as she grips at the edge of the desk. Even though he just took care of her, nothing compares with feeling of him fucking into her from behind.

The heat between them builds rapidly, their muscles tense as they chase their release. Her thighs tremble, and her breaths come in short, sharp gasps. Oscar seems to follow that sound, caressing her sides just for as long as he slips free to pull her shorts slightly lower on her thighs, for better access. His cock nudges back against her swollen clit immediately, causing her thighs to press together at the pressure. It makes Oscar see stars, driving him to thrust his hips harder at the feeling and let his cock slide along the slick, puffy folds.

When her walls clench around him, the tight, wet heat sends him spiraling. “God, baby. You feel so good,” he groans, his voice rough as he thrusts harder, his hips snapping against hers. “Always. So fucking good for me.”

The room fills with the sounds of her pussy squelching while Oscar keeps thrusting in and out, her release hitting first. The pleasure washes over her as her body spasms, gripping him tighter, and the sensation pulls Oscar over the edge almost instantly. He buries himself deep inside her as he comes, his groans muffled against her shoulder.

As they catch their breath, she looks down at her ruined shorts and laughs softly. “Well, these are done for.”

Oscar grins, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “Guess we’ll add laundry to tomorrow’s to-do list.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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letternotekisses · 9 months ago

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ok but saucy thoughts aside im talkin bout talon assistant reader genuinely being cute and silly with her agents:

Moira more often than not lets you eat your lunch in her lab provided that none of it comes in contact with her projects. She was hyper focused - her perfectly manicured nails holding still a tawny brown ball of fur, adorned with a baby pink button nose that sniffled the air hesitantly. You’d practically squealed when she raised a needle to the poor thing, and she quirked a brow when you hurried over to clutch the animal to your chest.

Moira appeared unimpressed with you. Her angular chin upturned as she peered down at you, baby talking the rabbit she had planned to test on. You looked up at her with eyes big and watery enough to rival the little creatures, and she sighed dramatically. The geneticist had a feeling that wrangling the critter out of your arms wouldn’t be so easy now that you’d seen what plans she had for it.

So that is how Lucky came to be. Despite Moira’s cold disposition, she enjoyed your company, and would like you to continue body doubling with her whilst she worked. The only way not to send you fleeing from her lab in tears, clutching the rabbit to your chest, was to keep it around. It has its own little space laden with toys and plush surfaces - a rather spoiled little animal.

Moira allowed the rabbit to stay, under the one condition that she name it. She’ll never tell you why, but she named the little guy Lucky because not only was he ‘lucky’ to avoid her experiments that day - he also gives you more excuses to come into her lab - and she feels ever so lucky for it.

Sombra finds unique methods to get your attention. She lurks around the base almost as well as Gabe does, but she’s not necessarily doing it to be broody. She can get greedy with your attention, so she finds ways to lure you off base so that she can have you all to herself for a little bit.

Sombra often hacks into Akande’s email to send you on faux errand runs, just for little things like coffee where she can swoop in for some quality time. And don’t worry, she pays for the dates and ensures you’re back on base by the time your break is finished.

Sombra also leaves little gifts where she thinks you might find them. Although, they’re never really that little. You’re always taken aback by new, expensive top-range electronics laden in purple ribbon on your desk. You know who leaves them, because they’re backed up with the best firewalls around and the display has a tiny purple skull on it.

Sometimes she just straight deposits thousands into your account. As a treat. Sombra only rolls her eyes when you try to decline the amount, flustered and telling her that it’s ’way too much’ but she honestly couldn’t care less. She’s perfectly able to spoil you and that’s exactly what she’ll do.

Reaper likes to play off that he doesn’t enjoy your company (he’s coping) but he’s also always skulking wherever you’ve been. You’re a bit of a yapper, especially when it’s early mornings in the Talon communal area, so he likes to sit and listen to you. If you stagger whilst talking because you think he isn’t listening, he’ll give you a stare so hard that you swear you can feel it through his mask. So you keep talking and his shoulders sag with contentment once more. (He now knows every single type of coffee you like, and you should expect a mysterious package of literally all of them in the kitchen next week.)

He’s a grump, and sulked for an entire week when you once changed your perfume. Reaper even went to lengths to shadow-step into your room to throw the new one out and replace it with a fresh bottle of your old one. It wasn’t cheap, but as long as you keep using it, he’s happy to buy them for you.

He’s also happy to scare off any of the overconfident Talon grunts who think you’re easy pickings. In fact, I’d say he takes great pleasure in showing those idiots who the pretty secretary belongs to. (He’s been doing this behind your back because he’s too edgy and emo to approach you directly and would rather trail you in the corridors like some sort of creep, but he means well.)

Reaper gets a little jealous over your attention from time to time, but with help from his unorthodox teammates (and you) he learns to share.

Amelie is slower to approach, but she’s all the more meaningful when she does. She may not be able to feel, but she more than just tolerates your company. She finds herself inviting you over for bottles of wine more often, showing you her manor and her dear guard hounds who’ve come to be much too gentle under your affections. Yet, she can’t find it in herself to blame you.

You show her simplicity in a blank and cold world - and soon enough her manor grows less full of cobwebs and vines, instead beaming with sunlight and the tiny succulents you’d gifted her with. You won’t replace Gerard, but Amelie still lets you dust off the weathered picture frames as if you’d been married together in this old house for years.

You help manage her hair, winding long and silky strands between your fingers, brushing against the elegant slope of her back. She welcomes your touch, despite the warm and cold contrast of your skin on hers.

Amelie craves the casual and domestic intimacy you provide her. She introduces you to self defence and gun wielding so you can take care of yourself without her, and you introduce her to reality tv and an absurd collection of coffee mugs. She would not take it any other way.

Sigma’s musings start small when he hears you humming a certain tune one day. It’s catchy, likely a pop song you’d heard on the radio whilst on your way to work, or maybe it was a song you’d been blasting in your bedroom the night before? He’d found himself picking up on it, unable to shake it until he’s humming it himself.

Eventually when you sit down with him for tea, he questions you about it, yet when you tell him the name of the song and he listens to it, he doesn’t necessarily feel the same pull.

The next week, when you’re passing by his lab in a hurry, heels clacking against the glossy wooden floor and papers flying in a trail behind you, he catches you humming another song. Another tune. He smiles softly to himself, picking up the documents you’d left behind.

Sigma realises then that the song wasn’t necessarily catchy enough to stick with him. He’d only picked them up because they reminded him of you.

Mauga is always excited to have you around. Sometimes he can be a bit much, but with two hearts he’s bound to have twice your energy. So that’s why he absolutely insists that you sit on his back whilst he does pushups. No matter what you weigh he’s not gonna break a sweat, so you might as-well relax on his back while he works out, instead of wasting precious quality time you could have together.

He’d suggested that you sit on other things too, but you’d smacked his bicep hard enough that the muscle rippled and he got the message to behave. You were still sore from the last time he said that.

Mauga also is a big cuddler, meaning, if you’re doing something he doesn’t deem as important, you’re being quite literally swept off your feet and dumped onto a soft surface like a wet kitten. Where he then hauls you onto his chest and squishes your face into his bicep, unfortunately for you, two hearts means he runs WARM. And you’re out like a light in less than 10. Smug bastard.

Big dude loves to show you off, too. Takes you back to some of his old haunts (pays for all of your drinks) and puts a song he knows you like on the jukebox. Sure, the night ends in a bar fight, a back-alley fuck and the worst take out you’ve had in your life, but would you have it any other way? Absolutely-fuckin-not.

And finally, the big boss of them all, Akande. Who’s satisfied with the knowledge that each of his subordinates treat you well and good, but knows he holds the ultimate claim. He holds the golden chain of your leash.

He treats you softly, like a well pampered pet all trussed up in the finest materials around. But it’s not always money with him. Sure, Akande has it, and he’s gonna flaunt it, maybe stuff a few bills in your panties when you least expect it but he also knows you’re not just a pretty face. Both he and his top agents have become adjusted to you in their lives, morale is high, people have improved.

You’re here to stay, and it’s only locked into place when he awakes one morning, your legs are tangled underneath satin sheets, and you’re drooling on his bare chest. He laughs - a deep rumble that shakes his chest and has you groaning at him to stop moving in a sweet, sleep addled mumble. You even give him a little kick under the covers.

Akande makes sure you’ll never want nor need again, and he’s sure that his team feel the same way about this odd, sweet assistant that stumbled into their lives.

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th4tprettylittleliar · 10 months ago

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pairing: Uni Professor Leon Kennedy x Fem!student reader

CW! : Leon’s cheating ;( , age gap (18 and mid 30s) , degrading themes, reader is a dummy, semi-public sex, (not really) fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex use protection! Reader looses virginity, readers lowkey obsessed , leon fingers her w/ wedding ring (sorry) , Leon’s rude as hell, some religious themes??

A/N : please lmk if there’s any spelling errors! I was really excited to publish this so I proofread fast. Please share this! It’s my first one shot on this blog . EDIT: I proofread now so lmk if there’s still spelling errors or grammatical errors

Okay, fine. Maybe your mother was right. Beauty doesn’t get you that far in life. How were you supposed to know?! For half your life, all you had to do was smile big and everything was handed to you.

Your friends— your popularity.. your boyfriends! You kind of figured everyone just liked your dumb-blonde personality. Not only that but you were just as sweet as a sugar cookie; something someone could crave and desire.. and cherish when it was in their grasp. Sweet and a little dumb? You had everyone at you feet.

Many wished they were you. You were the full package. Except, you were missing just one thing..

Your fucking brain.

It’s not like you were a clutz.. dear god no you weren’t helpless! You just needed extra help. Your daddy always told you that you were a special girl. Your frontal lobe just hasn’t developed yet! That’s why you almost flunked freshman year, that’s why you still use the “L” method to distinguish your left and right, and that’s why it took you nearly 6 retakes of the drivers ed test to finally get your license.

Yet, nobody trusts you enough to give you the keys to their car.

You hated it but you knew it was the price for your beauty. You can’t be that perfect in a world of monstrosity. But yet, even with just your face alone (and maybe a rather rich father) you still got into a good university.

You were so excited when you stepped foot on that campus, you would finally be living out your Rory Gilmore dreams! You were majoring in psychology, and biochemistry. You knew you had to try hard, harder than ever.

Your future depended on whether or not you completed college, and you weren’t going to mess this one up! You were determined. You wanted to live your rich-dentist fantasy with 2 boys. You needed to try your hardest.

Even if your hardest wasn’t enough.

It had almost been a month at university and you already had your eyes locked on someone in particular.

He was so soo dreamy, almost too dreamy. He made you forget that you were here to study, to be a rich mother of two!

You sometimes had to slap yourself to bring yourself back to reality. (Yes, you unconsciously did it in public) you’d get a weird stare or two but you didn’t really mind anymore.

His deep voice echoed against the lecture halls, he sounded stern— mean almost. You absolutely loved it. You loved every minute of that 3 hour lecture period. You thought you’d be bored out of your mind but your brain moved the little thoughts you had left and replaced them with the images of him.

You knew you weren’t the only one who had a infatuation strong liking towards the man.

You heard his name echo all through out that school, the gossip traveled. Every single girl who had a lecture with him either loved him or will eventually love him, it made you jealous.

You’ve never felt like you had to compete for something like this before,

It was always given to you on a golden platter.

It’s not like you could have him anyways. He was your professor. Shocker! You always went for the harder to get ones, figured your looks would do the rest.

Months of just looking down at him from the theatre seats were excruciating. You needed to be right beside him. For the past 4 months that’s all you wanted. You didn’t need to purposely flunk any test because that was already going to happen.

You just wished there was a moment where you could have him all to yourself. That’s all you wanted, a little one on one.

You could’ve easily emailed him and asked for tutoring sessions but why should you? It just doesn’t make sense why he hasn’t offered you any help. Your grades were a mess.

You started to get unmotivated, all you did was analyze him, and hyperfocus on every single one of his attributes. Its the hardest you’ve ever focused on something in your life. Just to go home and fantasize about everything he could do to you. That’s was probably why your grades were a mess.

You decided to pull yourself together and stop. Your dad was threatening to pull you from university calling it, “a waste of money.” So you knew you had to get your act straight.

It was hard, very hard but you stopped obsessing over him. You didn’t want to give up on your own dreams so you went to tutoring groups with your classmates to help get your grade up. That’s where. you met a guy named Miguel that helped you a lot.

You guys usually studied after class, or on the weekends with a cup of complementary coffee always purchased by him. It was a nice distraction from everything. You even managed to start passing the class before the progress report! Your daddy would be proud.

It was like this for weeks. Just the two of you studying for any upcoming tests, or even finishing an assignment together. It was really nice. You were even starting to get really comfortable with him aswell.

Today was another day of that long psychology class. Your usually giggle session with Miguel was some what masked by Professor Kennedy’s talking. You guys were barely taking note of what he’s was teaching.

His same, deep voice echoing through out the lecture hall. Except, every time Miguel and you started to talk amongst yourself, Professor Kennedy went quiet until you guys stopped, embarrassing you both.

You looked up every once and awhile from your computer, pretending to focus on his lesson, just to turn and talk to Miguel again. Professor Kennedy grew annoyed, and paused his lesson.

“Is their something more important up there then what I’m teaching?”

His voice was laced with his grim expression, making your heart drop. Hes never even addressed you like this.

“Excuse me?” Your soft voice ecoed against the loud silence. By the looks of it, your response pissed Mr. Kennedy off.

“Is that the issue? You cant here me? Why don’t you sit down here, sweetheart.” Professor Kennedy looked up at you, meaning buisness. A pout forming on your lips as you picked up your bag. Miguel looked just as shocked as you did while you walked awkwardly down the theatre steps. Plopping yourself in the center of the front row, like he asked.

His arms met the table before you, giving him leverage to lean down. His annoyed voice loud enough for only you to hear,

“How dumb are you? If you wanted to help yourself, you’d pay attention to my lecture. Instead, your giggling up there hoping to clutz your way into his pants, huh? For God’s sake, don’t be stupid and a slut.”

Shock was the only emotion desplayed on your face. Mouth dropped, eyes widening. He smiled before apologizing to the class before continuing his lecture.

Now, it’s a known fact you aren’t the brightest star in the universe, but this was a new low. You didn’t care what he said at all, it just made your stomach fluttery. You knew it’s probably wasn’t okay or even allowed for him to say that.

Not saying being called a slut didn’t hurt your pride, but it just made you fantasize him in a newer light. If slutty was being a little slower and wearing sundresses so be it. You thought you got over this obsession, you thought it was over.

The rest of the class you spent with your mind in a daze and your thighs clenched together. Nobody has made you feel this way. You felt hot, really hot. Tingly too.

If it was any other person, you would’ve let your father handle it. But no, it was Professer Kennedy. Quite frankly, you’d bend over backwards for that man

Class ended, you slowly packed up your things before putting on your school bag. You grabbed your watered down latte in sync as you took a step down the lecture theatre stairs, before hearing your name echo in the now quiet classroom.

“Yes, Professor Kennedy?” Your voice softer than usual as you slowly walked to his desk, your caked face tilting in the process.

“Look, I have my daughters dance recital in a hour and if I’m late my wife is going to beat my ass. So, I’m going to make this quick.” No.. did you here that wrong? he didn’t say wife.. Hopefully he didn’t notice the frown that formed on your face.

“I’ve noticed you’ve got your grades to passing and that’s fine but your barely passing. Your grades aren’t fantastic. I need you to focus on me in my class, not the man sitting next to you. I want you sitting front and center in my lectures going forward.” His tone harsh, how you liked it. This was a blessing from God, putting you right in the path of Leon’s view.

“I thinks it’s best if I sit next to Miguel, he actually helps me out a whole bunch. You should’ve came to me when I was actually failing, Professor Kennedy.” Dumb or not you knew what you were doing. Your sweet smile dawning on your glossed lips, your hands clasped together. He didn’t like that, at all.

“If you wanted to get your grades up, you would’ve came to me. Its university, doll. Do you need your professor following behind you asking if you submitted you assignment?” This is what you loved, the way you were talked to by him made your heart flutter. It was weird, you’ve never felt this way.

“Well, it would’ve helped.” You shrugged, a little giggle escaping your lips but you were met with dead silence and a cold stare. So you stopped.

“Wednesdays, Fridays, and occasionally Saturdays you’ll meet me in here at 6:00 to 8:00 for personal lectures. Dont tell anyone, you’re lucky I’m wasting my time on you. Your grades reflect my teaching so this is mandatory.” His tone monotone and uninterested, you had a bright smile on your face, though. Much more time with Professor Kennedy? This was a dream come true. Sadly, you’d have to end your study sessions with Miguel..

“Thank you so so sooo much Professor! I’ll be sure to come in tomorrow.” Genuine happiness was displayed on your pretty face. Professor Kennedy rolls his eyes before grabbing his briefcase and exiting the lecture haul

“Don’t be late.”

And you did just that.

It wasn’t really your fault… you needed to look good for you tutoring lesson! You wanted to wear this yellow sundress with white ruffles but you couldn’t find it. You looked for almost half an hour just for it to be on your bed.. too bad! Your makeup wasn’t working out either so you needed to restart. Then the car wouldn’t start and… well you get the point.

You also needed your latte so you were about an hour late. You showed up to the empty lecture room, no denying that you looked really good. You just couldn’t find Professor Kennedy.

Suddenly, his office door opens up and your met with an angered man, peering into your soul like he’s about to take it.

“I am so sorry look-“

“Save the bullshit. Your late but you have a fucking Starbucks coffee in your hand?” Proffesor’s voice is echoing off the walls, you gulp before responding

“Coffee helps me focus! I can get you one next time.” Your sweet smile stretched across your face again, trying to lighten the eerie mood.

“No, I don’t want your gratitude. You look like you stepped out of a paegent. Get in here.” He degrades before stepping into his enclosed office. This was the first time his words actually upset you, did you do to much? You thought you looked pretty..

You slowly crept into his office, looking around. It was bare, but it looked comfy ish. He had a nice fuzzy blanket in the corner chair. His desk was front and center with a wooden chair in front of it. Maybe you were looking for a little too long..

“Are you just going to stare at the chair or are you going to sit in it?” His usually demeaning words, he made you feel more stupid than you already did.

“Sorry.” You mumble, siting in the chair before you, your eyes look directly at his, eyelashes batting in his face. Almost felt like a brag.

“Your staying until 9 know since you decided it was okay to be late.” he bowed his head in disappointment as he typed on his computer for what felt like hours.

“Get your text book out and turn to page 132” he demanded, and you did exactly that. The first time in forever you’re accurately following instructions

You stay quiet and still while he types away, your textbook wide open and your phone next to it. Sometimes you found yourself basking in his features. His dyed blonde hair, his piercing blue eyes, his lips, his muscles… god his muscles.

“You’re staring.” Professor Kennedy breaks the silence as you flinch, turning to look at other rather boring things in his room. You could’ve sworn you saw him smile a little.

He actually wasn’t a bad teacher. He guided you through the text book chapters, and adjusted to your learning pace. He knew it would take a while for you to grasp onto the concept of psychology, but for the first time in a while he was willing to wait.

These study sessions helped a whole bunch, somehow with a brain capacity like yours you were actually learning some new concepts. You were finally able to say that you’ve learned something here. Your grades went up to high B’s and periodically low A’s which was a stretch from the beginning of the year. Just a little more studying and.. what?

You failed the chapter 7 test. Now, from the normal point of view you’d be confused, baffled even. How did you bomb a test when you were doing amazing in the class course? But in your point of view, you needed this, this had to be done.

You purposely flunked that test without a care in the world.

Why? Because you’ve noticed he became more distant the more you began to grasp onto psycology, the more you understood it. The tutoring sessions went from four days a week to only once or twice a week for an hour. That wasn’t enough time at all. He even gave you the opportunity to sit next to Miguel again but you didn’t. Why? Because you needed to be front and center. The first thing he sees when he looks around. You wanted to be the only thing on his mind and it’s not fair that he’s not getting the hint.

Why is this happening to you? You were always front and center, the first thought on everyone’s mind. You were practically a god at getting the male gaze and he didn’t bat and eye at you. Is it his wife? He already expressed the discontent in the relationship to his colleagues on the phone. He must’ve thought you weren’t listening.

This isn’t fair at all.

But at least he emailed you last night, you smiled so wide when his notiftication popped up on your phone, and even wider at what he wrote.

Sunday 6:30pm lecture room. Don’t be late. Professor Leon Scott Kennedy

You honestly didn’t think he’d care, and he probably noticed something was fishy because of the ratio from your test to your average grade. It was nearly impossible but you didn’t care, at all. You needed an excuse to see him and that plan fell right into your lap.

you eagerly waited for Sunday to come, it was only two days away but you didn’t have his class for the rest of the week. It felt like it’s been weeks since you’ve last seen him.

Sunday finally rolled around, and of course you had to doll yourself up. That signature sweet smile plasted on your full face, the dress that barely covered your ass. You’ve also grasped the concept of turning others on. Something that came natural to you but you wanted to crank the knob a little.

Your sandals clapped against the wood flooring as you approached his office door, before knocking on the door (knock, knock knock, knock). You were so excited that you instead brought ice cream today.

Leon reluctantly opens the door, to be met with you all dolled up, batting your stupidity long eyelashes in his face, and a ice cream cone in hand.

“Sit down, now.” This was different, or it felt different. Your heart actually dropped. Usually his tone made butterflies appear in your stomach, but he sounded genuinely pissed off.

“Yes sir.” Your words barely audible as you sat in the familiar wooden chair. You dress impossibly bunching up more, you take a light lick of your ice cream cone, as you watch him walk around to his side of the desk.

Leon would’ve usually sat in front of you, but no. He stood instead. His muscular arms on full display to you. He bunched up his sleeves but you were a mess already for this man. Your eyes couldn’t peer away from the veins that were prominently on display in his biceps. Only his voice could’ve broken you out of that trance like state.

“What the fuck is your problem.”

“Huh?” You look up in utter confusion, taking another lick of your icecream, a little dripping on to the side of your lip. His tongue pokes his cheek as he looks up at his office ceiling. Oh, he’s mad. Really mad.

“I tried so hard to be patient with you. So hard to give your dumb ass a chance. You were genuinely impressing me, growing on me even. Just for you to throw it all away.” His face inched closer to yours, you swallowed nothing out of pure fear. Professor Kennedy could practically hear your heart beating

“Professor Kennedy-“

“Oh, don’t you fucking call me that!” His voice impossibly louder than ever causing your eyes to widen and you to jult up in your seat. He decides to sit now and leans back, just for his eyes to narrow at you. He’s never looked better.

“Don’t act like I don’t know this game your playing. Prancing up in here with those stupid ass dresses, always something on your face, and seriously? Practically deep throating that ice cream cone in front of me? You’re not niave as you think you are.” His words shock you, you just liked looking pretty for him was that such a big deal?

“I don’t know what your saying.” You whisper, your doe eyes only growing bigger as you stick your tongue out, taking another drag of the ice cream.

“If you wanted to fuck your professor, you should’ve just asked. You look pathetic” Ouch. Now that one hurt, pathetic? You don’t even recall ever being called that.

“I don’t want to fuck you—“

“Oh, sure you do sweetheart. You’re telling me if I offered, you wouldn’t agree?” He caught you, he did. This was embarrassing being put on spot like this. Pouting as you look away from him. He’s mocking you, and your not going to fall for it.

“Sir, I’m not a slut. Plus, you have a wife.” You reminded him like he somehow forgot. He scoffed as he sat in his chair, looking at you face to face you.

“Come here” he demanded, his demeanor not faltering as your eyes widen, and your body stiffens up.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you have a hearing problem? I said come here.” You did just that, slowly standing up in confusion as you walk to the side of him

His computer was ahead of him, he pulled up a different tab before spreading his legs before him,

“Sit.”

You heard that wrong, you must’ve. He didn’t— He pat his thigh, his glare looking meaner every second as you finally speak up.

“I- I can’t.. Your my teacher and—“

“Am I asking you to take off my pants and suck? No, I said sit.” You reluctantly sit on his lap, awkwardly as you looked at the laptop before you.

“Yeah, you see that? That’s your score. A fucking fifty-four. Do you know how badly that’s going to affect your average for my class?” This felt too degrading, you were somewhat disappointed in yourself.

“Why did you fail my test on purpose?” Its over, he hates you. He fucking hates you more than he already did.

“I- I didn’t.” You stutter through your lie as he spanks you thigh, causing you to jult forward as his hands come in contact with your hips.

“Fine! You started seeing me less.. I just wanted to see you more, and I knew If I passed the test that the tutoring would stop.” You’ve never felt so ashamed before, he shakes his head in disbelief as you fiddle with your fingers nervously

“How sad, you flunked your test for extra time with your professor..” He mocked, grabbing a hold of the back of you neck, causing you to yelp as his lips met the shell of your ear

“You’re going to get what you wanted, baby. But, your retaking this test as well.” And with that he grabbed a hold of your hips, forcing you to face him on his lap as your hands met his shoulders, startled.

“Wait— I can’t this is morally wrong. You have a wife..��

“You didn’t care when you bent over with those short ass skirts, you didn’t care when you ‘accidently’ brushed my leg with your foot.. don’t try to sell me that bullshit now.”

It was all too much, never in a million years would you have thought this would happen. You’re sitting on top of your wish, and it’s getting harder beneath you.

“What if we get caught?” You mumbled, eyes faltering away from his in shame.

“Don’t be loud and we won’t” Without warning, his soft pink lips met yours. You were in shock but you finally kissed back. Your eyes closing in the process as your arms wrapped around his neck.

The kiss only got deeper as his hands went from your hips, onto your bare ass. Rubbing it soothingly before spanking it causing you to interrupt the kiss with a whimper against his lips. He forced his lips back onto yours as his tongue begged for an entrance, which you granted.

Your tongues faught for dominance before his would win the battle, taking over you as his hands crept below your dress and only your lower back. You shivered above him as you broke the kiss.

“We can’t do anything else.” You confessed in a daze, the thought of him cheating on someone for you had you feeling too responsible for the outcome. His forehead met yours as he whispered,

“Just a few kisses, I promise.”

Your niave self believed him as your lips met again, before they would finally travel to your neck, subtly biting and kissing causing you to whimper out,

“Just kisses.” You reminded him as he nodded, before sucking on the spot just below your jawline, your hands met his chest as you clawed at his suits vest. He finally decided to grab a hold of your hips before placing your back against his chest, your sandals propped on his knees as the laptop faced you now, and the image of your spread legs.

Your dress now settled on your hips, showing your frilly white panties that are drenched in your arousal, causing you to grow embarrassed and try to remove yourself off of him. This annoyed him as his much bigger hands forced you back down on his lap.

“You promised just kisses!” You whined out as he snickered below you, before whispering,

“Yeah, my fingers wanna give your cute little pussy some kisses too.” This startled you as his hands crept below your panties, forcing them to the side of your lip as he rubbed your clit, causing your legs to grow weak as he picked up the pace.

“These are not kisses!” You whine out, a moan following shortly behind you. The office door was still wide open, if anyone walked into the lecture theater they’d smell the aroma of sex, and they most definely hear your sweet little noises.

He finally scooted his chair closer to the laptop, before speaking up “Begin, sweetheart. Go ahead and take your test.” You shook your head defiantly, you couldn’t even think straight and he wants you to take a fucking thirty question test right now?

“I can’t—hmph!!” You stumble out, before letting out the most pornstar like moan. He forced his fingers inside of you, the same fingers his wedding band sat on. It hurt, a lot. He smiled as he saw little streaks of blood on his fingers

“A slutty virgin, I never thought I’d see this sight.” He chuckled as your head flung bag, earning a tsk from him.

“Nu -uh, doll. You have a test to take. We can do this all night.” His fingers slipped inside you like a symphony, your gummy walls trying to squeeze him out as he forced his way through

His hand crawled from your hip to his laptop as he prest ‘begin test’ the test was on a time limit, 45 minutes. There was no way you were finishing at all. Your eyes met the screen as your fingers clawed into his biceps, trying to slow down his relentless pace.

The pain was far long gone and your brain was mush. You weren’t going to be able to even think properly so why was he making you take the test now?

“Section one, vocabulary. Sleep and mediation are examples of what?” His tone far more happier than ever, he’s never acted like this in your near 5 months of knowing eachother.

He’s starting off easy and you couldn’t even open your mouth, your ears were ringing, fuck you were so close. “Professor Kenn- hmphh!!” That’s it, he found the spot you never knew existed. The spot that made your legs spasm uncontrollably and you pussy pulsate. You were so close you could feel it

“Right there! Oh.. Professor Kennedy!”

“Shhh, baby, you don’t want an audience, or do you? Answer the question.” He demanded, looking at the beautiful sight before him, 18 year old hottie pratically loosing the few brain cells she had stored up in her head, going dumb on his fingers. He wondered how you’d react on his dick next.

“I can’t- I.. I feel weird..” You confessed, it’s never felt this way before. Sure, you’ve touched yourself a handful of times, even to him. But you’ve never came from penetration, the feeling is so much more different and harsh. Your stomach had this forever feeling of it sinking, and your extremities just felt hot, and stuffed up.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum!” Your eyes began to roll back and within a second of hearing that, he pulled his fingers out and that beautiful feeling left your body, and your soul. “No.. no no! Professor Kennedy why-“ he stuffed your talkative mouth full of his fingers, you felt his wedding band on your tongue, making you mouth taste metallic like.

“I don’t want my baby cumming until she answers the questions, does she get that?” He’s speaking to you like he has to break down the simplest of words. Technically, in your state of mind he did.

All you did was nod as your tongue swirled on his fingers, before your teeth came in contact with his wedding band as you open your mouth, your teeth removing the wedding band as you place it on the table. He practically moans beneath you as he grabs a hold of you thighs

“You so dirty, baby.” He places you on your back, right beside his computer before bunching up your dress. You whined beneath him as your hands struggle to reach his chest, just wanting to feel on him. So much for just a few kisses. He had you right where he wanted you.

“You gonna take you first dick like a good girl, huh? I bet you are.” His words felt like drugs coursing through your body, making you clench around nothing as he practically ripped your panties off.

“Mhm, I promise.” You’re saying that now, until he unbuckles his trousers and pulls down his boxers that make you rethink your very decision. God, it was big, too big. His tip was irritated, looked bruised almost. With vigorous precum spilling from it as he pumped his dick, warming it up.

“I’ll take it slow since it’s your first time, sweetheart.” Is this a joke? You were struggling taking his fingers. There’s no way he thinks that’s going to fit.

He shifts his laptop to face your face, you turn your head sideways to look at the laptop as you whine. You shouldn’t be doing school work while getting fucked for the first time.

He slapped his tip into your exposed clit, earning a flinch from you.

“Please- sir..” you just loved that name didn’t you. “I have to teach you some patience as well, don’t I?” He snickered as he slowly attempted to slide himself it, you were squeezing from the pain causing him to grunt in response.

“Relax baby, you’re going to love it. Fuck… just relax.” His eyes were slowing shutting as his dick slid into you, with a struggle before he finally bottomed you out.

“No- no. Its to big I can’t take it.” You whined out as you struggled against him, his hands met the back of your knees as he pushed them against your chest, creating a easier and way deeper angle

“Oh- oh god!” You cried out as he began to thrust into your warm cunt, his chest heaved against yours as he fucked himself relentlessly into you, only picking up the pace.

It definitely hurt, but that pain would soon shift into probably the best pleasure you’ve ever got to experience. Not even your pink bullet vibrator could bring you to this euphoria.

“God! God! D— sir I can’t .. I nmphhh!!!” You practically screamed as the desk creaked below you, your test long forgotten about as he kissed your neck, trailing up to your ear as you whisper

“How many time did you dream about this—shit.. how many times— Jesus Christ.. did you touch yourself to me, baby? We both know you did, ohh… fuck..” He would periodically break out into a groan and his pace only quickened, your mind was in another dimension, all you could feel was your pussy being filled and pulsating, and your stomach filled with butterflies.

You were long gone, you ears doing much more than ringing, “going stupid on my cock, huh? Pretty girl probably can’t tell what I’m saying can’t she.” And all you could do was shake your head and moan like a bitch in heat.

“God you look so beautiful, getting fucked dumb next to my wedding ring. How slutty can you get?” His pace was quickening almost sending you over the edge, his tip hitting your crevix as you cried out hoping something could answer your prayer of pleasure and allow you to cum.

Leon grabbed his ring, putting it on his finger as he rubbed your starved clit with it, using it as a stimuli. Before shifting his hips to hit that perfect spot within you, that spot that makes your vision splotchy and you legs shake.

“God- Daddy I’m gonna cum! Please don’t stop! Please please please!” His pace only quickened as the rope in your stomach snapped, causing you to practically scream, which was hushed by his hand as you came on his cock.

“That’s a new name. What happened to professor, baby?” You can’t talk anymore, there’s tears building up in your eyes from the overstimulation and he seems to be getting impossibly faster. The room was filled with his balls slapping against your ass, and the squelch your wet pussy makes every time his tip hits your gummy spot.

“I didn’t tell you that you could cum, but it’s your first time so I know you can’t handle it.” He mocked as he picked you up, sitting you on his lap. You fell like a ragdoll onto him, your head on his shoulder, your arms wrapping around back as he grabbed your ass and used his legs as leverage to bonce you on his cock.

Just this action alone made you spasm uncontrollably and cry out, your cunt vibrating against him had even him seeing stars as he quicken his pace. His office chair squeaking below him, his phone buzzing couldn’t be heard over his heavy breathing and your cries

“Fuck- baby where do you want my cum.” He asked, fucking into you like a sex machine, cranking up his speed by ten as he abused your pussy.

“Inside! Nghhh I’m gonna cum again!”

“You wanna get stuffed full of my cum? Have it leak out of you pretty girl? Say it” his words alone could send you over the edge, and they did

“I need it so bad- fuck daddy I’m cumming!!” The overstimulation was too much, everything was too much. You practically saw the gates to heaven as you squirted on him, this action alone made his dick twitch as he came inside you, his hips spasming causing him to thrust inside you as him came, he gripped onto you for dear life before the orgasm washed over the both of you.

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry.. I didn’t mean to.” You practically slurred out of exhaustion. All he could do was breathlessly laugh.

“Don’t apologize sweetheart, it was adorable.”

You sat there, in utter silence just in the embrace of one another. His hand met your hair, combing through it as he kissed your forehead. Your head lied on his shoulder, feeling his cum drip from you onto his cock. This was the softest he ever acted towards you.

“You said just a few kisses.” You mumbled tiredly, looking up at him as he laughed to himself.

“That was just a few kisses, sweetheart.” He said as he pulled out, causing you to whine from the sudden loss and a whine to escape your lips.

“You still never answered the question, baby.” He mumbled against your forehead, as you both sat still, recovering from the bliss you two shared.

“Oh, shush.”

#leon kennedy smut #smut #resident evil #resident evil smut #leon kennedy #professor x #student #foryou

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aurora-eternal · 1 year ago

Text

4t3 Conversion of Grouped posters by @cosmiccs4 + Recoloring PSD with tutorial

8 non-recolorable presets

1024 textures

Included PSD for retexturing (tutorial how to use under the cut)

113 poly, all LODs

Shiftable

Price - 5§

BGC

Compressed package

TOU, Ko-Fi

DOWNLOAD | ALT | SIMBLR.CC

Tutorial: How to use my PSD for retexturing

You need:

Photoshop with .dds plugin

My retexture PSD and package file of posters

19 pictures to your liking, preferably vertical

TSRW

Sims3Pack Multi Installer and Compressionizer

Step 1: Open my PSD file, open your images:

Step 2: Select (Ctrl+A) copy and paste to posters file (Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V) first of your images :

Step 3: Choose where you want to put it, for reference you can use one of the presets:

Step 4: After you decided with placement of your image. Move its layer in the Layers tab between "Poster x" and "Put your image here" layers, it will create a clipping mask, which allows the picture to be fit within the poster without cropping. Hide or delete "Put your image here" layer.

Step 5: Use Transform, Free Transform and Move tools to resize the image by your liking:

Step 6: Repeat the Step 2-5 with other 18 images:

*vibes are totally random, all images from Pinterest*

Step 7: After you've done, delete all the "Put your image here" layers, if you didn't it before. Right-click on the Layers tab and press Merge Visible (Shift + Ctrl + E). Now press Save As (Control + Shift + S) and save your image as .DDS with this parameters (2nd picture):

Step 8: Go to TSRW. Press Create New Project > New Import, and select package with my posters. Give for your recolor unique Title and Project name, otherwise it will override original posters:

Step 9: In Textures tab go through all the presets except the first one and delete them. Then go to Edit > Project Contents and remove all the textures of removed presets. Its pretty common when someone make retexture of TS3 mesh and leave that unused textures in file, which leads to increasing its size:

Step 10: Press Edit button next to the Overlay tab. Then press Import button and select your retexture. Press Done and when this pop-up appears, press Yes:

Step 11: If you want to add more presets press Duplicate and reapeat Step 10, but instead, when pop-up about replacing the texture appears, press No.

Step 12: After you've done, press File > Export > To Sims3pack or Edit > Project Contents > Export > To .package. If you choose the first method, convert your Sims3pack to Package and in both cases run it through Compressionizer. Test your recolor In-game, make thumbnails (if you want to share it) and have fun!

For those who read this tutorial to the end, click HERE to download this recolor.

@pis3update @xto3conversionsfinds @wanderingsimsfinds @kpccfinds @simfluencer-network @sssvitlanz @simblrcc-site

#my cc #ts3 #the sims 3 #sims 3 #4t3 #4t3 conversion #s3cc #ts3 cc #ts3cc

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makingfanfictionstosleep · 3 days ago

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your zayne fic is a chef's kiss!

dropping this on your ask, i wonder how you think their first date after 7 months would be like?

bonus chapter, maybe? 🥺🥺🥺

i wasn't planning on doing one. well, honestly i was itching to write one. so for the sake of you and me (i'm using you, my dear anon, as an excuse but honestly its more for my need for a damn closure haha) i'm going to drop this bonus chapter.

previous || story masterlist : love and deepspace

the cure to his nightmare

BONUS

Weeks flew by after the awards night.

And during that time, Zayne displayed one of his strong strengths : his unwavering and stubborn consistency.

He pursued you with a relentless and genuine dedication, a methodical patience that was both infuriating and profoundly alluring.

You held firm, unwilling to let him back into your life as before.

No. If you were truly to start whatever this new path was, you had to sever the messy ties of the past and forge an entirely new trajectory, just like in medicine.

But was it easy to keep your walls up against Zayne?

Hell, no.

There was still that foolish, giddy part of you, deep within, that yearned to pull him back into your orbit, to let him in, to surrender to the wicked, tempting pull he exerted over your very being.

Yet, the rational, mature part of you, the one you had painstakingly built, urged caution.

You wanted this to be real, to be long-term, to truly test the sincerity of Zayne’s words from the night of the awards ceremony.

And honestly, you found yourself enjoying the chase.

People could call you hard-to-get, old-fashioned, or whatever else they pleased. But this was how you wanted it.

You wanted Zayne to pursue you, to work for it, to know that you were not like MC, that you were worth every agonizing effort, just as you had worked tirelessly for years to earn that one smile – that one, precious smile that was uniquely yours.

And you could feel that he did.

He texted you multiple times a day, a constant, subtle presence. He had paid for your indulgences at your favorite sweet shop and brunch cafe, and a daily to-go cup of latte, precisely to your liking, was delivered to your desk every morning in Skyhaven.

Every weekend, he’d appear in Skyhaven, not really demanding your time, but personally delivering a meticulously curated care package that he claimed you deserved after a long week.

And you didn't have your first official date right after the awards night.

For some reason, you sensed Zayne was giving you more space, and he was right to do so.

Because whatever you had decided to rekindle was fragile, delicate. You appreciated his sincerity, his care, his profound consideration, which meant that he was truly thinking about this, about you, with a depth you hadn't seen before.

But what almost did you in, what almost made you surrender your carefully constructed defenses, was the night of your college reunion.

After days of consistent texting, which had slowly evolved into random phone calls, then video messages or calls, you both received an invitation to your batch reunion.

You both decided to attend. Zayne, with a quiet confidence, asked if you would go together, and after a moment of hesitation, you agreed.

You had planned to go back to Linkon alone, but you were surprised to find Zayne waiting outside your unit, a stark, handsome presence.

You tried, desperately, not to blush as he stood there, looking impossibly handsome and gentlemanly. He promptly greeted you, his soft gaze melting a part of you you struggled to keep hardened.

You fought to keep your walls up, but allowed yourself a genuine smile in return.

You both journeyed back to Linkon. Zayne took you straight to your old unit, just to drop off your belongings.

Yes, you still kept it, knowing there were times you would need to stay in Linkon for medical missions, symposiums, and other professional events.

And this time, you had decided to take a two-day break, primarily because your supervisor was dropping strong hints again that she might “accidentally” ban you from entering the facility if you didn’t take your days off.

You wore a soft blush sweater draped gently over a pearl-buttoned tweed skirt, each thread woven with quiet grace. Paired with over-the-knee suede boots, the look was sweetly poised—like a love letter wrapped in warmth and whispered elegance.

Zayne, in turn, wore a crisp white shirt adorned with delicate lines and soft gold accents, paired with tailored ash-gray trousers that spoke of quiet strength. A single suspender draped like a whispered promise—subtle, stylish, and brimming with unspoken devotion.

A blush crept up your neck as he commented, his voice a low murmur, that you looked beautiful.

He took your hand in his, his fingers wrapping around yours, and brought your knuckles to his lips for a soft, lingering kiss.

You looked away in a flustered state, flustered because Zayne was being bolder than usual today, not that you didn't like it. You cleared your throat as he reluctantly let your hand go, noting his reluctant expression.

You told him he looked good, too, but mentally withheld how too good he looked.

So you appeared at the college reunion together.

The night was a cascade of nostalgia, filled with stories from your hellish days of enduring deadlines, hilarious anecdotes about terror professors, and funny moments in class.

But what you didn't know, what Zayne subtly orchestrated, was how fiercely territorial he had been around you, how he had staked a silent, undeniable claim.

He was subtle, yes, but devastatingly effective.

Some of the guys in your class tried to get your attention, keeping it casual and polite.

The truth was, they wanted your number, wanted to ask you out.

But Zayne, through some unspoken language, made sure they knew he had every intention of claiming you. And for some guy language you didn't understand, they seemed to take the hint, not even trying.

Meanwhile, you continued to simply enjoy the night.

Zayne never left your side. You sat side-by-side, your skins brushing from time to time, an accidental intimacy that sent shivers down your spine.

He was attentive, even while engaged in conversation with other old classmates, his attention on you never wavering.

Small gestures like preventing your head from bumping against the corner of the table when you reached down to grab a fork you’d knocked over; instinctively shielding you when some guy accidentally bumped his knee under your table, almost spilling a drink; signaling a server for a glass of water the moment you felt a bit thirsty.

These small, thoughtful gestures made your damn heart flutter like crazy.

And to think, this wasn't even an official date night.

And to think, you had never, not once, seen him do these things for MC, despite the countless times you had seen them casually hanging out in the hospital café.

The night progressed, ending on a good note, wrapped in a warm blanket of nostalgia and unspoken tension.

Zayne took you back to your unit in Linkon, the quiet of the hallway amplifying the beating of your heart.

But before you headed inside, he stopped you. You noticed how his eyes were averted, how his ears were stained a delicate pink.

And then you knew. He was about to ask you out. You thought he looked utterly adorable like this, vulnerable and slightly flustered.

And just as you predicted, he did.

He asked you out on a date, specifically saying, "our official first date."

You noticed the slight nervousness in his usually calm, unwavering voice. You realized, with a quiet satisfaction, how you liked that this made him like this – vulnerable and nervous.

Because honestly, you were too. You didn't want to be the only person who felt this way, the only one who'd melt whenever you were in each other's proximity.

You wanted Zayne to feel it too.

And so, you said yes, your voice soft, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

He gave you that relieved smile, that damn smile that instantly made you weak at the knees.

It was unfair, really, how utterly irresistible he looked when he did that.

But you knew you just had to be stronger, be more patient, until you were both truly ready to jump in together.

Not now.

But someday, you would be ready to finally start the future you both wanted to have with each other.

For now, this was what you had.

And you would cherish it, so that you could treasure every single bit of it, so that you could treasure and cherish each other properly, slowly, genuinely.

#love and deepspace #lads #lads smut #lads zayne #zayne lads #love and deepspace zayne #zayne smut #doctor zayne #lads zayne x reader #l&ds zayne #lads zayne x nonmc #zayne x nonmc #zayne x non mc

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astrosin · 3 days ago

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Venus Sign Turn-Offs — What Each Placement Secretly Can’t Stand🫧

Let’s talk about what really turns people off… based on their Venus sign. You can be gorgeous, charming, the whole package—but if you hit one of these triggers, they’re out.

Venus in Aries:💘 Hates indecisiveness. If you can't make up your mind or move fast, they lose interest. They want fire, not foot-dragging.

Venus in Taurus:💘 Too much chaos? Messy energy? Bye. If you’re unstable, inconsistent, or always chasing drama—they shut down.

Venus in Gemini:💘 Clinginess is their kryptonite. They need mental stimulation, not emotional suffocation. Give them space to think, laugh, and flirt.

Venus in Cancer:💘 Insensitive jokes or cold behavior? Absolutely not. They want warmth and emotional safety—not someone who plays tough or distant.

Venus in Leo:💘 If you act unimpressed or don’t give them attention—they’re done. They crave admiration and genuine passion, not emotional stinginess.

Venus in Virgo:💘 Sloppiness and emotional messiness? Major turn-off. They’re drawn to sincerity and quiet stability—not chaos or games.

Venus in Libra:💘 Aggression or lack of manners = instant disconnect. They need harmony, mutual respect, and elegance in love—not tension or rough edges.

Venus in Scorpio:💘 Superficiality makes them cringe. If you’re scared of intensity or keep things surface-level, they’ll move on. They want depth and soul.

Venus in Sagittarius:💘 Too much control kills the vibe. If you’re possessive, dramatic, or overly serious, they’ll feel trapped. They crave freedom and fun.

Venus in Capricorn:💘 Flakiness and immaturity? Nope. They want grounded, reliable energy—not big promises with no follow-through.

Venus in Aquarius:💘 Overdependence pushes them away. If you’re too emotional or always need reassurance, they’ll detach. Independence is sexy to them.

Venus in Pisces:💘 Judgmental or harsh energy repels them. They need softness, understanding, and emotional openness—not harsh words or rigid logic.

Services I Offer in Astrology (Now Available on Tumblr)✨ At the end of this post, I’d love to share the astrology services I offer:

Ascendant Rectification I specialize in correcting your true Rising sign using detailed facial feature analysis. My method has been successfully tested with celebrities and close contacts—and I’ve practiced it for years. Today, I’m officially offering it on Tumblr! You’ll receive your corrected Ascendant + a copy of your chart + the exact birth time down to the minute. Booking is through private messages. Payment is via PayPal.

Natal Chart Analysis I focus only on the key points in your chart—your core strengths, challenges, planetary dominance, and influential energies. Think of it like revealing the secrets of your chart’s energetic blueprint. I don’t cover houses—just the essential parts, with detailed interpretation. This service also includes clarity and full explanation. You’re welcome to ask questions afterwards.

Synastry Readings Whether it’s romantic, personal, or professional—I offer honest, long-term insight into your relationship dynamics. Is it real? Will it last? Is the other person being truthful? You’ll receive full clarity, with no sugarcoating. My readings are detailed, direct, and transparent. 📩 To book, message me privately. 💸 Payment is through PayPal.

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fireflowersims · 2 months ago

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Sissysims' sins against the scenegraph

This is a small follow-up to my initial post covering the code theft commited by @sissysims. In that post, I presented my proof in the form of a YT video. While that video started off private, I decided to make it public for various reasons, which I will not outline in this post.

I first want to express my gratitude to all those who left comments, reblogged and liked my post. Your support means the world to us. I'm so happy that you as a community are so supportive in this. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you to all of you. ♥️

Now, this post is going to focus on just one thing: her incompetence at object creation, because honestly, it's bad. It's really bad. It would feel immoral not to discuss it.

This is just a glimpse and for all you object creators out there: I'm warning you, it's graphic.

How to create an object for dummies.

So, this is the simplest explanation I can give on making a new object. This is the basic process you follow for basically most things you will make: open up SimPE, open up the Object workshop and press open. Select your file and choose "clone". Leave the settings alone, defaults are fine. Give your new object a nice name and description. Be sure to give it a unique object name. Now do all your visual modifications by modifying the existing scenegraph resources (GMDC, TXTR, etc) and give your object a new GUID (making sure to update MMAT's). Now fix integrity, save your file and done. You can test and preferably you'd also compressorize.

So what did sissysims do wrong?

Simply said: everything. I have reasons to believe she has never followed a basic object creation tutorial. The mistakes she makes are mistakes that can be avoided by actually learning how to clone an object. Here is a small summary:

Not cloning anything, instead copying the file she wants to modify and opening that in SimPE

Not changing the object name. I have never seen her touch the fix integrity button

Using other people's meshes and textures. How? By way of opening up their files, noting down the 3D Object Name, extracting the scenegraph resources (GMDC, GMND, CRES, SHPE, TXTR, TXMT, MMAT) and putting them inside the package she's modifying (and modifying the 3D Object Name in the original package). I have not seen her open up a GMDC file or import or export a mesh or texture. She does not modify any of these scenegraph files afterwards.

Not updating the MMAT's with new GUID

Not cleaning out unused resources (see: the scenegraph fuckery above)

Never fixing integrity.

Sadly, this is not just the case with my vendor. It is all her projects. This is how she creates objects: she has never learned the proper way to create objects and thus she steals other people's hard work instead.

Pictured: the instructions provided for messing up my vendor. Note how she specifically instructs to extract resources from your mesh source. Not export. No: extract.

Pictured: the results of said messed up procedure on another creation of hers. Note how the gmdc of her object is literally identical to the gmcd of Michelle's original mesh (only credited in a readme, not in the post itself)

Why is this an issue?

This is not just an issue of someone being bad at creating objects. This is someone teaching others this messed up method that comes down to stealing other people's work. I believe that this is actively damaging to our community and newcomers' skill development. Her video teaches people bad modding habits. Her video ENCOURAGES people to use this method to make fundamentally flawed, fundamentally dysfunctional objects.

She claims to be wanting to make modding more accessible, but this video of hers is not helping with that in any shape or form. You need to know what you're doing in order to teach someone and her object creation skills are below the level of someone who followed a tutorial ONCE.

Ya know, I could make a video teaching people Serbian. I don't know anything about that language. It's Slavic I guess. I don't even know how it's pronounced, but I sure as hell could tell people that whatever sequence of sounds is coming out of my mouth is Serbian. And that using my tutorial you can have nice conversations with Serbians! Doesn't mean I should though. It would be misrepresentative, offensive and actually damaging to anyone who is serious about wanting to learn Serbian. The same principle applies to sissysims teaching modding.

I want to learn how to make objects and mods tho!

Good news, there are a lot of great tutorials out there by people who do know what they're doing (unlike sissysims). For basic object creation I would highly recommend this tutorial by Azaya/ @skulldilocks at Garden of Shadows. It's the tutorial that got me started with objects and it has plenty of pictures. If you follow this tutorial, you will be ten times better at object creation than sissysims is

For BHAV modding there is no better place to start than Echo's tutorial. I can also highly recommend @midgethetree's resources page as well as all the useful information @picknmixsims has on his site.

What now?

I will keep working on even better vendor code, which I hope to get to a testable state very soon. It's clear that there's interest in this sort of object, and the new vendor base will allow for a lot of flexibility in gameplay. Once I get it to a good working state, I will make a tutorial on how to make your own: a tutorial that'll actually tell you the why. If you can clone objects (the proper way), you will be able to make a vendor.

Also, please don't engage with sissysims in her youtube comments, not even to "defend our honour" or to say something about the theft. She knows what she did and has presumably received a tumblr notification that I mentioned her (again).

I am sissysims and I don't like this

Well, you have a lot of nerve "teaching" people to mod when you clearly don't know what you're doing. I encourage you to stop stealing other people's work and educate yourself (see resources above).

#sims 2 modding #fire flower speaks #sims 2 #sims 2 kiosk #sissyims #this level of incompetence is almost impressive #I am normally not this salty. extreme incompetence just really ticks me off

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roseandxanderfics · 2 months ago

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"You struggle with them for power" - (NFSW headcanon) - Peaky Blinders x reader

Tommy Shelby

Tommy Shelby has built his entire life around control. His mind is always working, always calculating the next move. Everything he does is with intention, and when he gets you in his grasp, it’s no different. He doesn’t just want your body; he wants your compliance. His control extends into every part of his life—especially in the bedroom.

When Tommy takes you, it’s with a quiet, methodical precision. He moves like a man used to getting what he wants, and with you, it’s no exception. His hands don’t caress—they grip. His lips don’t kiss—they command. “Don’t make me ask twice,” he growls low, his voice a cold promise. Every time he touches you, there’s a deliberate power in it. He wants to feel your surrender, your resistance crumbling under his hands.

There’s an intensity in the way he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he’s waiting for you to beg, to ask for more. The power struggle here isn’t just physical; it’s mental. Tommy wants to break your resolve without ever letting on how much he’s drawn to you. Each thrust is slow, controlled, his eyes flickering with a barely contained hunger as he watches your body respond. “Tell me you want me,” he demands, his tone rough as his hand grips your jaw. “Tell me you’re mine.”

It’s a test, a power struggle he orchestrates, and when you give in—when you tell him what he needs to hear—there’s a moment of satisfaction that crosses his face. His breathing hardens, and you know he’s not just claiming you physically; he’s staking his dominance over your mind. When it’s over, he holds you in the silence, the power shift now complete. “You did well,” he murmurs, the praise a rare gift, almost as if you’re the one who earned it rather than him.

---------

Alfie Solomons

Alfie Solomons is all unpredictability wrapped in a chaotic package. He’s a wild card, a man who thrives in the mess, in the unspoken language of power. With Alfie, you’re never going to get the soft, romantic gestures. Instead, you’ll get an intense force, a constant back-and-forth, where he tests you, taunts you, and breaks you down in the process.

The moment Alfie touches you, it’s not gentle. It’s rough and almost invasive, but there’s a hunger in it—his way of asserting his presence. “Thought you could just walk in here and not get a taste of me?” he growls, lips curling into a half-smirk. He moves like a man who has nothing to lose, his hands gripping your hips as if he’s about to claim you as his property. But with Alfie, the game is always a little more unpredictable. He’s just as likely to pull away and let you catch your breath as he is to push you past your limits.

He doesn’t care about your resistance. In fact, he seems to feed off it. “I like it when you try and fight me,” he sneers, his voice rough and teasing. Each movement feels like a challenge. As much as he wants to take you—he wants you to want him back. He wants the fight, the struggle. “You think you can get away from me, eh? Not a chance.”

When you beg him to stop, when you’re almost at the breaking point, Alfie smirks, pulling you even closer. “Not yet, love,” he chuckles darkly, dragging you through the intensity of it all. He isn’t gentle, but there’s a deep satisfaction in the way he claims you, his words dripping with possessiveness. “You’re mine now. Ain’t no turning back.”

And when it’s all over, Alfie stays close, his rough hands brushing your hair back from your face as he looks at you with that dangerous half-smile. “Didn’t know you had it in you, love. Well done.”

--------

John Shelby

John Shelby is a man of passion, both in the boardroom and in the bedroom. His energy is raw, his love for you intense, and his need to dominate is fueled by his protective instincts. With John, there’s no subtlety—he doesn’t hide his feelings. He feels everything deeply, and when he takes you, he makes sure you feel every bit of it.

The moment John gets his hands on you, there’s no slow buildup. His desire is urgent, and he makes it known. His kisses are rough, desperate, as though he can’t get enough of you. “I’m not waiting any longer,” he growls, his voice heavy with need as he pulls you close. There’s a brutal honesty in the way he touches you—he wants to feel every part of you, wants to know you’re with him, that you’re his.

The power struggle with John isn’t subtle. He doesn’t care if you resist. In fact, he’ll push harder if you do. “You want to fight me, yeah?” he smirks, his grip tight on your waist as he pulls you closer, the force of it nearly knocking the breath from your chest. He doesn’t hold back, his thrusts fast and intense, as if he’s trying to prove something to himself, to you.

As the intensity builds, so does his need for validation. He demands your praise, your confirmation that you want this too. “Say it,” he growls, voice low and commanding, as his pace doesn’t falter. “Tell me you need me.”

Afterwards, John doesn’t back away. He pulls you into him, his hand gently stroking your hair as if making sure you’re still there, still his. “You were incredible,” he says softly, his voice now full of affection. “I won’t forget this.”

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

Arthur Shelby

Arthur Shelby is a man of extremes—one minute calm, the next wild, driven by his darker instincts. With Arthur, the power struggle isn’t about control—it’s about survival. He needs to dominate because it’s the only way he knows how to deal with the world, the only way he can make sense of his own chaos. When he takes you, there’s a dangerous edge to it, a rawness that you know won’t let you escape.

Arthur doesn’t hold back. His hands are rough, gripping your body as if he’s afraid he might lose you. “Don’t make me do this,” he growls, his eyes dark with desire. He needs to prove something to himself—to you—that he’s in control, even when everything else is falling apart around him. His thrusts are relentless, powerful, almost as though he’s punishing you, yet with each movement, there’s an underlying tenderness, as if he’s afraid of breaking you.

“You’re mine, understand?” he demands, his voice hoarse as he presses his body against yours. It’s not just about the physical connection; it’s about claiming you in a way that calms the storm inside of him. When you respond, when you give in to him, he releases a shaky breath, something close to relief in the way he holds you after. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His voice softens, the roughness gone, replaced by a deep, almost desperate need for assurance.

--------

Michael Gray

Michael Gray is calculated, deliberate, and when he finally decides to let go, it’s a sharp contrast to his usual restraint. There’s an elegance to the way he moves, even in his most passionate moments, and he treats you with a quiet, almost reverential kind of dominance. The power struggle with Michael isn’t as brash as with the others; it’s more of a mental game, a test of wills.

When Michael touches you, it’s not with the same roughness as the others—it’s more restrained, almost slow. He’s watching you closely, studying your every reaction, every little sigh or moan. “Do you trust me?” he asks softly, his voice almost soothing, but there’s a steel edge to it. “Let me take care of you.”

His pace is slow, deliberate, as if he’s savoring the control he has over you. The power struggle lies in the way he manipulates the situation, pulling back just when you need him most, then pushing forward with a new intensity. “You need to say it,” he whispers, pressing you to your breaking point. “Tell me you need me.”

When it’s over, Michael doesn’t immediately leave. He’s calm, cool, his touch gentle as he strokes your hair. “You did well,” he says quietly, as if he’s proud of how you’ve handled the power dynamic. And for a moment, you wonder if he’s secretly proud of himself too.

#peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #john shelby smut #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons smut #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby smut #headcanon

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