I’m Not A Perfectionist, But Finding A Typo Or A Grammatical Error In My Own Already-published Fic

based on @nymphomatique's nerd!miguel au

CW: afab!reader, nerd!miguel, slapping, oral sex (f receiving), degrading, praise, got carried away, body worship, college students, smut under the cut!!!

"It's good enough, I guess."

Miguel just finished typing up a biology essay for you, his eyes slightly hazy from staring at a laptop for the past 2 hours. You were standing in front of your floor-length mirror, getting ready for the frat party you were planning on attending.

It took everything in his power not to stare at your body. The way the skimpy, black dress hugged your curves was a mouthwatering sight. Your freshly curled hair fell neatly over your shoulders, allowing Miguel perfect vision of your skin under your backless outfit.

His heart is racing faster than ever before as he watches you from the corner of his eyes. He places his laptop back in his backpack, before deciding that he has to say something.

He has to.

"You look... good" he manages to whisper out, half-hoping that you didn't hear it.

"Thanks." it was almost a mindless reply, like you weren't paying much attention to him. "Now get the fuck out."

"W-wait a second," Miguel suddenly gathers some courage as you brush aside his compliment. He knew you were somewhat of a mean girl, but he wanted to see this transaction through. "I... I deserve something - payment for finishing your homework for you."

You turn your head around to look at him, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah?" There's a bit of intrigue in your voice, but you're still harsh. He watches as you cross your arms and look at him in a demeaning fashion. It wasn't often that this nerd got the confidence to ask for any sort of reward. "And what exactly do you want? I'm not giving you money."

Miguel is a little shocked that you were willing to hear him out. "I-I'm sorry... I'm just..." He sighs cautiously.

You stare impatiently. He hesitates before forcing out his next words. "I just... I really like the way you look and-" his voice shakes when he notices the rude stare you're giving him. But he won't give up.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Just- you know, for doing your essay for you?" just as quickly as the words leave his mouth, he covers his face in shame. You laugh a bit at how dumb his request is.

"That's it?"

Miguel lowers his hands to look up at you. You can see the embarrassment painted all over his face. "You got all shy just to ask for a kiss?"

Your expression calmed and you relaxed your body language. He looked humiliated, feeling stupid for even asking that from someone as stunning and popular as you.

"Fine. C'mere." you wave him over dismissively.

He's taken by surprise, but doesn't hesitate to cross the room and approach you. His heartbeat is racing faster than ever before. Despite how he towers over you by almost a foot, he's staring down at you with doe eyes, like a lost puppy.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

You raise your hands to gently cup his cheeks, then bring his face in for a small kiss. Miguel's heart leaps into his throat when your lips make contact. It's so casual for you, but it's everything for him. A wave of euphoria washes over him, it's almost too overstimulating - to know he's finally able to kiss you.

He moans quietly and leans forward, trying to deepen the kiss. His mind races, his head spins. He's so giddy that he feels like he's going to die. All he wants now is more... so much more.

Your hands find his chest, pushing him back. His eyes shoot wide as you break the kiss.

"There. You got your reward. Happy?" Your hands rest on your hips while you speak nonchalantly.

"Y-yeah... super happy..." he chuckles nervously and runs his hands through his messy hair. It was kinda hot.

"Can I... can you do that again?"

"No, you've had enough." You return to your mirror, adjusting the little details of your outfit. "You got what you wanted. Now get the fuck out of my room."

"What?" despite how you were typically mean to him, he seemed to be surprised by that. "You can't... just be heartless like that."

That struck a nerve with you. "Heartless? You're calling me heartless?" There's a desperate look in his eyes, but you can tell that he doesn't have much courage to push the issue further. After all, he's just a nerd. But he can't shake the feeling your kiss gave his mind, his heart, his stomach, his cock...

"I did everything you wanted - I did your homework. I want something more... please." His body language shows that he's almost afraid of you and your dominatrix attitude. "Please, just one more."

"God, you're so pathetic..." you sigh, shaking your head. You can't help but laugh at his desperation - he clearly has never touched a woman in his life.

"Please..." he begs once more. "I want it more than anything..."

Something in his voice sends electricity up your spine. This is much more entertaining than that dumb party. "Mm, yeah? More than anything?"

You shove him back, causing him to stumble and fall onto your bed, his back making a thud on your mattress. "I don't think you deserve it, Miguelito... you haven't done anything for it."

His heart leaps into his throat. "I... I'll do anything. Please..."

"I want you to do something for me..." you grin with lowered eyes. "Can you guess what it is?"

"I don't know... I'm nervous." he didn't know what you meant. It made you roll your eyes. I mean come on, he was laying on your bed, with you practically on top of him - how could this dweeb not get the message?

You slap him across the cheek, hard. His cock twitches when he feels the sting, causing his cheeks to burn up in embarrassment. "You want another kiss? You have to earn it."

"Make me feel good."

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

He lets out a pathetic whimper when you sit on his dick, still clothed by his boxers. You haven't even started moving yet and he's already turning to mush. Virgin loser.

He watches anxiously as you reach for the elastic waistband of his underwear, sexily pulling them off. Fuck. What a sight. Proportionally, his dick is a pretty average size. But there was no way that it would fit all the way in.

A mean smirk forms on your lips as you stare at his boner, palming him gently and eliciting a frustrated whine from Miguel. "Your dick is so fucking pretty..." you mumble. "I don't know why you're so shy about it."

"Wait, re-really? You think so?" no one had ever seen his dick before, let alone call it pretty. His breathing shallowed.

"Mhm." Miguel whimpers again when you begin to stroke him, coating his entire shaft with all the precum he's releasing. "Aww, you poor thing..."

"You're already so whiny and I'm barely even touching you. You're such a baby."

"Please..." he breathes out.

"Please what? Use your words, baby." you don't call him "baby" as a pet name, you're mocking him. He tries to hide his face from you, but you grab his chin and pull it towards you so that you two make direct eye contact.

"Tell me what you want."

"You want me to use you, hm? You wanna be my little sex toy?"

Yes. Yes. Yes. He'd love that.

"Yes... please..." he whispers. He desperately needs your attention, so he'll take anything he can get. He'll be your toy, your lap dog, anything you want him to be. All those nights where he laid in bed alone, jerking off to the thought of someone wanting him, was finally becoming a reality.

Miguel's eyes shoot wide when he sees you lift up your dress, letting your panties drop to the floor. The frat party was long forgotten by you, since this was so much more fun.

"You wanna kiss me, yeah?" You smirk, crawling further onto him. His hardened cock leaks with pre, making you giggle a bit.

You hover over his face. "Then kiss me here."

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

He eats you like a man starved, needy for attention. Your hips roll firmly against his face, his mouth closing around your clit and suckling on it.

"Fuck- Miguel... so good." the nerd groans when your nails scrape at his scalp, gripping his dark hair tightly. His tongue explores every inch of your cunt, leaving behind traces of saliva as he licks and kisses the sensitive flesh.

Miguel feels his entire body tingle with joy. He's so excited to be pleasing you, to prove how good he is for you, that he's completely ignored his own needs. Lucky for him, the sound of your sweet moans are enough to get him off.

His hands grip your hips hard, pulling your wet cunt closer to his face as he feasts. His hands were sure to leave bruises later.

"Mm, god... yes..." he mumbles, the vibrations of his voice making your pussy throb even more. You grind against his face even more feverishly.

"Mig, I'm-" you sigh, trying to contain your moans as he gets more excited with his ministrations. "... 'm so fucking close, baby."

His hands run all over your hips and thighs, worshipping you like the goddess he thinks you are. His dick twitches some more, and his tongue becomes more furious around your hole.

"Mm- fuck!" you let out an unexpected wail as you feel your orgasm wash over you, your mind clouded with white. He eagerly laps up all of your juices, drinking in all of your release.

When you pull away from his face, you notice that he came too.

Miguel snaps back to reality after a moment, his cheeks flushing in a sort of embarrassment. He looks so fuckin' pretty. His hair is all messy, glasses discarded to the side, and of course, your sweet cum coating his puffy lips.

After you've caught your breath, you flash him a wicked smirk. He looks at you in panic. "Wh-What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

You sink down on the bed, lowering your face towards his cock - which was dripping with his release. His face looks worried, he knows what you're doing.

"Since you've been so good for me," you start, letting your lips hover just above his aching cock. "I figured I'd help you out too. It's only fair..."

He was gonna be in for a long night.

Poor little thing. Such a sweet boy.

CREDIT TO @nymphomatique FOR THE NERD!MIGUEL

Masterlist

Last updated: November 26, 2024

Moon Knight

Give Me What I Want (Steven Grant x f!reader)

What Good Girls Get (Switch!Marc Spector x f!reader x Dom!Layla El-Faouly) No One Compares (Steven Grant x f!reader) Love You to the Moon and Back (Moon Knight trio x f!reader) Taking Control (Steven grant x f!reader, brief Marc Spector x f!reader)

Then There Were Three (Marc Spector x bi f!reader x Layla El-Faouly)

Miguel O'Hara

The Royal Treatment (Miguel x f!reader) Skip to Dessert (Miguel x f!reader) Full Body Workout (Miguel x f!reader) Finish What I Started (Miguel x f!reader)

Basil Stitt

Just One More (Basil x f!reader)

tell me steven wouldn't pout with those stupid puppy eyes when you leave in the morning for work.

tell me he wouldn't sulk in bed for hours, painfully missing your sleepy cuddles and soft breaths.

TELL ME he wouldn't take your pillow and shove it under his hips as he ruts pathetically against it, whimpering your name.

tell me he wouldn't make a mess of himself just so you can clean it up when you get home.

actually, tell me he would.

pls.

your miguel fic was insanely good!!! please give us more x

Thank you!! I had a lot of fun with this one and I already have a few more Miguel fic ideas in the works so stay tuned :))

My Dear Birdie

Summary: Anselm Vogelweide is charmed by you and his strangeness turns you on

Contents: 🔥 18+ nsfw and very smutty, sex w/ humor, sex toys, exhibitionism, mention of drugs, p in v, butt stuff, food stuff (~2.8k)

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

It had begun as a joke. A friend of a friend had said, "do you want to meet the weirdest guy that anyone has ever met. Ever?"

"Yes?" You'd said.

And that's how you'd entered Anselm Vogelweide’s social sphere. 

And he was as advertised. Old-fashioned suits and way of speaking, unnecessarily old leg brace and glasses. His dark black and gray hair parted neatly, but still a bit wild, and a beard that moved as much as his lips when he talked. Surrounded by a group of people that, well, it was hard to say if some of them were even human people.

Despite the affectations, he was devastatingly handsome to you and had a magnetism you hadn’t known existed.

"But you are so delicate," he had said with a smile as you'd shaken his hand for the first time. "My dear little birdie."

"Says a guy with Vogel in his last name," you'd mumbled.

He held your hand, put his other on top of it, gently stroking your skin. "My dear birdie, might you know anything about crime?"

You tried to remember to ask your friend, how their friend, had come to know this insanely rich oddball. He was clearly up to no fucking good.

You looked at Anselm, trying to focus on the one, clear lens of his glasses. "Oh sure I majored in organized crime. Minor in destruction of evidence."

Anselm laughed. A strange, rusty sound. "Oh, dear birdie, you are very naughty."

And that had made you laugh.

He'd invited you to keep him company the next weekend. You’d been visiting him for almost a year off and on.

His library was like something out of a dream; huge illustrated botany books, German fairy tales with gold leaf embossing, careful notes in the margins of several editions of Anna Karenina, and shelves and shelves of very dirty, very specific books. 

Like you'd read one where a seven-dicked God had been tricked into impregnating an entire harem of beautiful, soft-skinned, half-plant women with three or four breasts each. And it had drawings.

There was something about Anselm. He’d never made a move on you, though you knew he had women or men brought to the estate sometimes.

He stared at you whenever you were in the room. You could tell by the way his eyes watched you that the man knew his way around someone else's body. Yours was born female, but you knew it made no difference to him. He liked you.

Maybe it was because of the accident he never talked about. His own body didn’t work so well. Not that you’d thought about how his body worked. Ahem

The skin on the left half of his body was scarred and made it difficult for him to hear from that side. Every once in awhile, his breathing got away from him.

He wore a creaky leg brace and once, when one of his lackeys had suggested he should use a cane, Anselm had shot the guy in the leg.

“Now you need one,” he’d said dryly.

It shouldn’t have been normal to watch something like that, but Anselm had no interest in normal. And you found that, surprisingly, you didn’t either.

“Dear birdie, come bend over my desk,” he says to you one evening as you sit on the sofa in his study, reading. His words are slowly drawn out, his strange accent turning his cadence warm and intimate.

“What?” You look over at him. He’d just finished a drink and had made the request as if it was something you did all the time instead of completely out of left field.

“Don’t you think it’s time that we stop being so patient with each other? I have been fucking women who look like you for three months now. It is not satisfying anymore. I must, I must, have the real thing.”

You close the book and lay it on the couch. You look across from you, to where Anselm’s third cousin is sitting, pretending not to listen, and one of Anselm’s bodyguards is looking at the exchange with interest.

“Anselm, can we be alone?” You say as you stand.

He flicks his fingers at the sofa and the two other men leave as you approach Anselm’s desk. He strokes his beard, taking in your figure with a deep inhale.

“Bend over the edge of my desk and let me bury myself in you.“

“Whoa, Anselm,” you hold up your hand, “what brought all of this on? We’ve known each other for months now. I kind of assumed you weren’t interested in fucking me.”

He tut-tuts you with his tongue, one finger wagging back and forth at you. “Fucking is fucking, dear birdie. But with you, I had to be patient. I have not gotten to where I am in life by refusing to put in a little effort.”

“Living proof that crime does pay, sometimes.”

He ignores you and continues. “And I have put in so much effort for you, for one so small in stature. You have noticed my gestures. And I have noticed that you have noticed. I have seen your eyes stroking my cock, you naughty thing. You shouldn’t tease.” He pats the leather top of his desk.

“Okay, I have been doing that, yeah,” you say.

“I treasure your honesty. And you. Not only your mind, but I’m sure, also your body.”

You’d never thought of your body in any particular way. In fact, it had been awhile since you’d been with anyone. You’d been busy. And here was Anselm, with his strange praise and alluring invitation.

You walk around his desk and, still sitting, he pulls you in closer, stroking your shoulders and arms, down your legs, before turning you by the hips to face his desk. You bend over prettily for him and grip the far edge. He sighs as if he can finally relax. You hear his chair scrape as he positions it directly behind you.

“You are a comfort to me,” he says as he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down carefully with your underwear.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you.”

“I will not be offended that you sound so surprised.”

You shrug.

“Look at you. Perfection. You smell of sex.” You feel his breath between your legs as he talks, a slight brush of his soft beard. “Let me clean you with my tongue.”

He uses his fingers to pull the lips of your cunt apart and he wastes no time diving in, tongue-first, moaning. You feel the cold of his glasses press against the flesh of your ass as he digs his tongue as far as it can go, his beard lighting up every nerve ending you have. He swirls his tongue around and around, before sucking gently while tonguing your hole, his thumb working back the hood of your clit to make you hiss and squirm.

“Anselm,” you say.

“Be still,” he says, giving your ass a firm pat. His thumb grazes over your asshole. “May I?”

A knock at the door jolts you, but Anselm holds you firmly with his hands.

“Business, dear birdie,” he says. “Do you mind?”

He licks you again, from your clit all the way back to your rim, the tip of his tongue playfully poking at your hole.

“I don’t mind,” you say.

“Come in,” Anselm yells loudly. “Be quick or I will shoot you,” he tells the butler who comes in.

The man sets down a silver tray stacked with strapped cash. A cookie on a white linen napkin is perched on top. The butler is straight-faced and he’s probably seen much stranger while working in Anselm’s household. 

“Ah, yes, my winnings,” Anselm says, mouth still between your legs, making you squirm, “but take the cookie with you. Chocolate chip cookies do not go with beautifully wet cunt.” He lifts his head long enough to yell at the butler. “GET THE FUCK OUT. No one has any respect for my time,” he says to you, through your pussy.

You’re having trouble catching your breath. Anselm’s lips and tongue are sucking and teasing you like you are his last meal on Earth. Even though a butler you’ve only seen a few times was just watching you get eaten out, you’re coming. Hard. Your fingers dig into the edge of his desk, thighs shaking, throat burning from moaning so loudly. Your brain goes completely white as pleasure seizes your muscles.

Anselm is just lapping and licking at you, humming over every drop you give him, licking down your thighs to catch anything he’s missed.

Finally, once your lungs actually work again and your body has relaxed over his desk, even though your hips are digging into the wooden edge, he sits back in his chair.

He gently taps your legs aside so he can open the top drawer of his desk. He shuffles around in it for a bit before closing it and standing, leaning his body over yours to show you what he’s retrieved.

“I would like to put this in your ass while I fuck you,” he says.

You narrow your eyes at it. “Is that a dildo made of wood?”

“It’s an antique,” he says delightedly, running his fingers over the carved ridges of its length. 

Your eyes shift to his face and you just barely resist making a joke that would surely have pissed him off.

He frowns. “Cold in here. I shall warm it for you.” 

He rolls it between the palms of his hands and you have to bite your top lip to keep from laughing.

“This is one that I enjoy myself immensely,” he says. “There is no craftsmanship in sex toys these days. Mass produced intimacy. I’ve already had a custom harness sent from Italy to restrain you in. I’m sure it will fit. I’m very good with visual weights and measurements. You know, I made most of my early money in cocaine.”

He reaches back into the drawer for a bottle of lube and coats the wooden length liberally, using what’s left on his hands to tease you and make sure you’re ready for him.

Anselm looks at your holes. “Perhaps I should do this the other way around,” he looks at the dildo. “No, next time.”

He rests the tip of the dildo at your asshole. You nod your permission. 

As he pushes the dildo slowly into you, working it past your initial resistance and then letting it sink in completely, he moans just as deeply as you do. You hear him undo his belt and pants. Another metallic sound that you assume is dispatching with his brace, which you’re grateful for because if he creaked as he fucked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to come again. 

Or maybe, you’d have a hard time without it now that you’d thought of it. Next time, as Anselm had said.

He runs the searing hot length of his cock along your inner thighs, which is a kindness because if he’d gone straight to shoving it inside of you, you might have fallen asleep waiting for him to get balls deep. No wonder he felt the freedom to be so strange. He’s filthy rich and has a dick the size of your forearm.

Anselm is slow and steady as you tense, then remember to relax, then clench around him as he fills you, relaxing again so the head of his cock can shove your walls open for the rest of him to slide inside. He’s so thick that the edges of your little hole sting and burn around him, but it only adds to how good he feels inside of you.

You’re brainless before he gets even halfway. He shifts you forward, your feet leaving the ground so you’re laying, bent over, completely at his mercy. Anselm lifts you up enough to slide one of his hands under your sweater and palm your breast. His other hand hooks over your face, two of his fingers sliding into your mouth, cradling against the inside of your cheek to better pull you against him. But gently, everything strangely gentle.

“You are a big girl and can tell me if you have had enough, yes?” He whispers into your ear. “You need only ask me to stop. I will give you the cookie that imbecile left here in my office and you can be on your way.”

You swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth. “Don’t stop,” you say around Anselm’s fingers. 

He kisses your cheek and rolls his hips forward, giving you the rest of him and knocking every single molecule of air out of your lungs. In fact, you were pretty sure his dick was up there somewhere resting against your sternum. The wooden dildo in your ass ensures that your entire body feels snug and tight around him. So full and so good.

You hold tight onto the edges of Anselm’s desk, trying to push back for more, or at least hold still enough to encourage him to fuck you harder. And then he withdraws slightly, and more, and back in and good lord, feeling this much pleasure was going to do permanent brain damage.

Drool drips out of you where his fingers are inside of your mouth. It drips down your chin and onto his desk. Your eyes are rolled back in your head and you are grunting like an animal as he starts pounding into you, praising how soft and tight you are, how the sound of your wet hole is a symphony he’s going to record and play as he sleeps at night, how he wants to hear your moans in every room of the mansion, how he wants to eat his meals from the space between your breasts, how he wants to put a candle in your asshole and light it because it’s his birthday soon, and to tell him what you would want for your birthday next year. He hoped it was More.Of.This. His words punctuated by his sharp thrusts.

And you think you agree to everything because your cunt is squeezing around him like his dick is pure electricity, overstimulating your nerves and spasming your entire body. You can’t even speak, but you do love hearing how filthy he’s going to make you be for him.

God, is that wet sound echoing through the room you? It is. And Anselm is right. You want to record it and hear it too. So you can come in your sleep to dreams of him fucking his enormous cock into you just like this.

Anselm slows his hips, pushing up your sweater to below your breasts. He lays a hand gently on your lower back. You turn your head to look at him. He has a look on his face you’ve never seen. It isn’t tolerance or fondness, or his usual huffy impatience, or even the look of appreciation he has for your witty quips or when you wear a particular outfit he likes. Anselm is looking at you softly, with love.

“Please, let me finish on your beautiful skin,” he asks, beard moving in a way that tells you his lips are trembling slightly.

You almost come again as he pulls out, your walls sucking on the head of his cock like your body doesn’t want him to ever leave. He rests himself along your lower back.

Anselm starts to work the dildo in and out of your asshole as you feel him use his hand to pull himself toward orgasm. He works the dildo faster and you come again, clenching around the ridges carved into the wood, cunt squeezing tightly on nothing but your own skin and wetness. Anselm groans loudly and you feel him coming messily all over you before letting a pool of his cum gather in the dip of your lower back.

He runs his hand over your hair, taking in a deep breath as you blink and try to get your eyes to focus again. 

Anselm reaches over toward the stack of money still on his desk and takes the cookie off the top. You hear him take a bite of it and chew. You rest your head, not sure if you’ll have the energy to move your body ever again.

A scratching sensation drags through the cum on your back. Anselm clears his throat and leans forward to present you with the other half of the chocolate chip cookie, slightly shiny around the edges. You lean forward and he feeds it to you, wiping the outer corner of your mouth with his thumb.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted in your entire life.

-----

Leave It On- a continuation of My Dear Birdie

moon knight fans i am. Calling!

yet another sugar daddy Ari 🥺🫣🥵🥵✨

warnings: age gap, daddy!kink, spanking, sugar daddy Ari, smut, minors dni, 18+

Ari loved showing you off. He loved taking you to his stuffy charity galas and parading you around like you were his little trophy girlfriend — which you were. Well, you were actually his sugar baby, but same difference. The bottom line was that he loved showing you off to other men who desired you and women who were jealous of you.

He’d buy you a pretty little dress — either an elegant gown or a strappy little cocktail dress, depending on the occasion — and it was always tight. He’d also cover you in glittering diamonds, and inform you to never leave his side unless he said so, or else. He’d press his hand to the small of your back and cart you around like you were his property, and you loved every second of it.

Tonight’s dress was form-fitted satin in the most gorgeous deep nude shade. Indecently short enough that several women had already given you disapproving looks. Not that you cared. What did it matter that Ari preferred to dress you in as little as possible? He liked making you wear barely-there dresses that showed off your curves, and he never allowed you to wear a bra because he liked the way your nipples would poke through the fabric. And panties? Forget about it.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t be bratty tonight. Seeing Ari looking so delicious in his three piece suit with his long hair combed back? Oh, of course you’d be a little daring.

“Daddy, this event is stuffy and boring,” you complain, running your manicured nails up and down the lapels of his expensive suit. You knew deep down he loved how high maintenance you were, and he’d happily fund your frequent hair appointments, manicures, pedicures, makeup, clothes… anything you wanted.

“Boring?” Ari quirks a brow, rubbing your back soothingly, “you want to go home, baby? You feeling okay?”

Ugh. Of course he wasn’t just your sugar daddy who fucked you good and paid for anything you could ever want. Of course he had to be the nicest guy on earth too. But you took that as a challenge to push him to his limit.

“No, but I wish your friends weren’t so boring.”

Ari pinches your ass, “don’t be a brat, princess.”

That was code for: be brattier, so daddy can punish you.

You stick your chin up, “Maybe I should go hang out with Mr. Barber over there. He looks kinda lonely, doesn’t he? I heard he’s no longer with his wife…”

That comment has you bent over the sink in the ladies’ bathroom (which was thankfully empty). And okay, so maybe you shouldn’t have brought up Ari’s mortal enemy, but as you said before, you’d been feeling extra bratty. And now, your daddy was pressing his crotch against your butt, and you can’t help but smirk.

“Don’t look so smug, little girl,” Ari warns, running his hand up and down your back and making you shiver.

“I’m not smug, Ari.”

He narrows his eyes, “Don’t call me that.”

You don’t know why you’re pushing him so much tonight. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t punished you in a while now. Maybe it’s because things have been way too sweet lately, with Ari taking you out on romantic dates and shopping trips. Maybe you need a bit of thrill tonight, a bit of adventure. A rush of adrenaline. Or maybe you’re just a brat.

“Call you what, Ari?”

“Oh, baby girl. You’re in for it now.”

He rips your dress in half. And you were so not expecting that—because he’d literally gifted you this dress today! And it was Versace for crying out loud! What the hell was wrong with him? You’re about to ask him just that when his palm cracks against your bare ass. Hard.

“OW! That fucking hurts!”

“Good. You deserve it for disrespecting me.”

“Why? Just because I called you Ari? Which, by the way, is your name—OW!”

He slaps your ass five times in succession, each slap harder than the last. Harder than he’s ever spanked you before.

“Watch it,” he warns, although you can feel how hard he is. You know he likes it when you’re bratty, you know how horny it gets him to put you back in your place, to exert his power over you and remind you of how he’s in charge. “I had a diamond bracelet waiting in the car for you, but maybe I’ll return it if you don’t stop misbehaving.”

You scoff, “Return it. I don’t care.” (You do care).

He spanks you several more times, till your ass is stinging with that delicious pain. And of course you’re wet too, your slick running down your legs because getting smacked on the ass by Ari always gets you wet.

“You’re really asking for it tonight, aren’t you? But remember, you can only push daddy so far before it comes back to slap you in the face.” Ari grabs your ass cheek and jiggles it lewdly before smacking you again. “Or in your case, your ass.”

You have two options in front of you right now. You could give in, apologise and enjoy a thoroughly good fucking. Or you could push his buttons even further, further than you ever had before, and then dare to see what happens after that.

“It’s not my fault you dragged me along to your boring event, Ari. Maybe you don’t value me that much anymore, maybe I should find a new sugar daddy. As I said before, Mr. Barber’s single now, and I’m sure he’d love it if I called him da—”

CRACK.

You’d been too busy running your mouth to even notice that he’d undone his belt. It’s only when you feel it crack down on your ass that you stop short, crying out and gripping the marble sink beneath you. Fuck. That hurt. He hasn’t done it too hard (he wasn’t sadistic and you were still his baby girl) but it’s hard enough to make you gasp, knowing it’ll leave a mark on your poor ass.

“Try and smart mouth me again, sweetheart. Try it, I dare you.” Ari grabs your jaw roughly and tugs you up till you’re standing with your back flush against his torso.

You can’t speak because his grip on your jaw is too tight, so all you can do is desperately shake your head, rutting back into him to let him know you’re done with being a brat.

“Who am I?” He hits the belt on your ass once more, and the sting makes you wetter than ever. “Who am I, baby?”

He lets go of your jaw and you sputter, “daddy, okay?! You’re daddy!”

Ari smirks, his hand wrapping around your neck while he uses the other one to spread your legs, roughly running his fingers over your wet folds and making your knees buckle.

“Oh, now I’m daddy, huh?” He slams three of his fingers inside of you and you gasp at the intrusion and the immediate feeling of fullness. “Bratty fucking baby just loves to run her mouth, don’t you? Where’s that attitude disappeared to, huh?

Your legs already feel shaky and weak, your orgasm fast approaching because his fingers feel so thick and good, and the spanking had already turned you on. Not to mention how he’d been petting you and showing you off all night — that always got you hot too. You were this close to cumming.

“Daddy, please!” You garble.

“Not so feisty now, huh?”

“Nooo, daddy, please! Gonna cum!”

Immediately, Ari’s fingers leave your cunt, making your eyes pop open in shock. He brings his wet fingers up to your face, smearing your juices all over it, making you messier than you already are.

“Bad girls don’t get to cum.” He smirks.

“But daddy! I was only teasing! Please don’t leave me hanging, daddy! I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry!” (Maybe you are, maybe you’re not… you just want to cum, in all honesty).

He scoffs, “Please. A flimsy apology like that would work on punks like Andy Barber. But not me.”

He drags you back outside. And he’d originally wanted you to go out in just your dress which is completely torn from the back, but you’d begged him to give you his jacket. Thankfully, he’d done you this small service. But everyone could tell what had just gone down in the bathroom. What with your torn dress, dishevelled hair and shiny face (he hadn’t let you clean it) paired with the fact that you were limping.

Yep. It was pretty obvious you’d been utterly wrecked — wrecked without even having been fucked. And Ari couldn’t be smugger. You were just thanking your lucky stars that at least his jacket was long enough to cover your ass with all its bruises and belt marks.

You expect him to take you home after that (he was hard after all, and you knew you’d be in for the fucking of your life once he got you alone). But instead, he makes a beeline towards Andy Barber, who looks white as a ghost at how inappropriate and fucked out you look.

“Andy, listen. We’re gonna have to leave early tonight.”

Andy manages to tear his gaze away from you. “Huh? How come?”

Ari looks at you meaningfully, “Baby, tell Mr. Barber why we have to go home.”

You look down and shake your head. There was no way in hell you were gonna say what he wanted you to say, what he’d coached you to say not minutes ago inside the bathroom. What you’d promised him you’d say.

But you don’t have a choice, because Ari pinches your ass not-so-subtly, and you yelp. Fuck.

“Tell him, baby.”

You hang your head and grit your teeth.

“I was naughty, so my daddy has to take me home so he can punish me. I’m sorry for being naughty at your event, Mr. Barber. My daddy will set me straight tonight.”

Ari looks smugger than the Cheshire Cat, you know he’s been wanting you to call him daddy outside of the bedroom and in front of other people for a while now. You’d always said fuck no, but he’d got his wish tonight. So you guessed you being bratty had paid off for one of you tonight…

But later, you find out, it pays off for you too. Ari fucks you like he’s never fucked you before. So hard and fast and frenzied, till you’re covered in bruises and your legs are shaking. And then he kisses you sweetly on the lips, and clasps your new diamond bracelet around your wrist. It’s got an inscription on the inside, which reads:

Daddy’s naughty little girl.

***

THE END SOCNSKKXKSAK BYE!

Sleeping Beauty

Summary: After having sex with Jake, you both fall asleep in your flat. Only, it's not Jake that wakes up, it's Steven.

Warnings: Hidden relationship, reader is mentioned having sex with Jake, jealousy on Steven's part, vaginal fingering, a sprinkling of dry humping, cunnilingus, Steven cums in his pants, fem reader, one use of (Y/N)

Notes: Debuting Steven onto my blog :) this fix was heavily inspired by @blue-beeeeeeery 's post

Wc: 1.9k

You’d been dating Jake for a while, having met him as your cab driver after a night out with your friends. In the time you’d been together, he’d opened up to you about his DID, and his alters; Marc and Steven. You hadn’t met them yet, and it seemed to be a little bit of a touchy subject for him, so you didn’t push it. Besides, you adored Jake, even if there were two other men living in his head, you were sure you could come to love them, too. 

Despite not pushing it, you had asked why it was Jake wouldn’t introduce you to his alters, and he had told you that they were both… skittish, in a way. That you would meet them, that he wanted you to, but he worried to spring it on too soon. And who could blame him? Hearing that your alter had a partner you didn’t know about would understandably be perplexing at the very least. Though, it made you smile- Jake may have acted like a big, scary, cigarette smoking tough guy, but he really cared, especially about Steven. You’d gathered he was the “innocent little brother” of the group, the one to be looked after. He seemed so sweet, even when Jake would complain about him. And you knew one day you’d see him for yourself. Jake was naturally protective, over you and over his alters. It warmed your heart to know he was waiting for them to be ready to hear that they technically had a girlfriend they didn’t know about.

Besides, the reason he hadn’t told them when you had first met, is because they didn’t know he existed apparently. You had called him shy, and he had grumbled that he wasn’t, he was just fulfilling his role in the system. The protector, doing the dirty work for Khonshu when Marc couldn’t, and then slipping back into the shadows when it was done. It sounded lonely, you told him. It was, he replied, until he met you. Jake could be so romantic when he wanted to.

And so here you were, laying cuddled up to who you thought was Jake, the darkness outside told you it was still the early hours of the morning. You were only half awake anyway- fucking Jake always took something out of you. It was exhausting, in the best way.

You decided to stay like this, for a while. Jake normally woke up hours before you, kissing you goodbye and sending you a text later that hoped you “Had a good sleep, hermosa,” and so you relished the little extra time you had with him. It felt a little demeaning, for him at least, having to sneak in and out like he was a teenager, but you pushed through it, for Jake and his alters. Your eyes blinked back closed, willing yourself to not sleep too deeply, so that you might give him a proper goodbye when he left your flat.

The air was quiet, still. Peaceful. The only sounds were yours and his breathing. The warmth of him behind you, his arm curled just under your breasts lulled you to sleep once again. And meanwhile, as you fell back into sleep, someone else was rising from it. Though, it wasn’t Jake.  

Steven blearily opened his eyes, and groaned. Despite having just woken up, his body felt tired… but in a good way. And he was spooning something soft..  and warm. His vision cleared- and he nearly jumped back in shock. There was a woman…. in his bed, but it wasn’t his bed, and this wasn’t his flat. He whimpered in shock as she moved against him, moaning as you stretched your arms above your head.

“You up already, papí?”

Papí… definitely Jake. Steven gulped. He knew his other alters were more experienced with women than he was, but this was just silly. His eyes raked over you, your form cuddled beneath the blankets, your hair sprawled about the pillow like a halo. Gosh.. you were pretty. He found himself thinking that Jake had good taste. He shook his head free of the thought- he needed to leave as fast as he could. As much as Jake cared about his alters, so did Steven. And thought he’d been wishing for a girlfriend for forever, but he wouldn’t go as far as to turn off one of Jake’s “scores” with his awkwardness. Steven had no idea how adorable he was. 

When he didn’t answer, you turned over, squinting at him, blinking the sleep from your eyes; “Jake?”

Steven froze. God, you were gorgeous. Ohhhh it wasn’t fair. Why did Jake have to be the best with women…. 

“Jake? Are you alright?” Your hands came to cup his face, as you examined him for any sign of sickness, or anything else that might make him freeze so suddenly. 

“ ‘M fine-!” Steven’s voice broke a little as he choked out a reply. Oh, good one Steven. You were wise to his sudden change in accent, sounding more like he was from London now. Your hands quickly retracted, and you gasped.

“…Not Jake?” “No-“ Steven gulped, you shifted away from him, Steven was sure it was to make him more comfortable, but he found himself internally begging you to shift closer.  “Steven..?” You breathed out; “…Y-yeah, uh.. who’re you? W-where am I?” 

You sighed, knowing that this conversation was going to happen one way or another. You put your hands up in a show of mercy; “My name is (Y/N)… this is my flat.. I’m uh… I’m Jake’s girlfriend.”

Steven’s eyes widened. “Oh.” “Yeah..” “….Well why didn’t I know he had a bloody girlfriend.”You giggled. At least he wasn't freaking out too much. "He didn't want to shock you, I.. I've known him since before he started to show himself to you and Marc." Steven nodded along. "Well I have to say, waking up in a strange woman's bed is pretty shocking..." You giggled again. "-Yes, sorry, he usually wakes up hours before me to go back to your place." "Oh right.." Steven sniffed.

"Um.. d-did you, uh... I mean, have you.." He motioned to your neck- Jake liked to leave hickeys. You caressed the marks, only just now realising they were there.

"Oh- um, do you mean..?" "Uh.. yeah- sorry it's just.. we share a body, y'know.." "No no I get it-! Um, yes, yes we did." He was, of course, not so subtly asking if you and Jake had had sex last night.

"Oh, right- I mean, it's fine! Obviously, you're like, together, and that's like, normal- sorry I'm making this so weird." The smile you gave him was sympathetic. "No, it's alright," you had told him, but your words had fallen into a buzz around him. Steven was deep in his thoughts- sure, it was Jake you'd had sex with, but they shared a body. What had he done with you? You'd had sex, but how? What did you like? As his mind spiralled, he felt his cock twitch a little beneath his boxers. Only a few hours ago, probably, his body had been inside you. His hands had probably made you cum a dozen times- Steven knew that's at least what he'd want to do with you...

"-Steven?" His thoughts cleared, "God, sorry love, head's all over the place today.." You hummed.

"You're really pretty." Steven's comment made the both of you blush, and you could've said the same of him. You hadn't noticed until now that you had subconsciously been shuffling closer to one another in the bed. Your noses were close to touching now, and you decided to take the plunge.

Steven whimpered as your lips met his, and while he was eager, it was strange that he be so inexperienced, considering, again, that he shared a body with Jake. His hands were greedy, but anxious. The trembling in his fingers gave presence to his mounting desire to touch you, and gently you guided his hands to your hips. That was all the encouragement he needed, his grip became suddenly a lot more confident, clutching your hips tightly before travelling down to squeeze your bum. He moaned with you, grinding your hips into the hot pressure of his cock against your tummy, his touch against you hungry, like an excitable dog.

You whined at the sudden loss of his mouth, biting your lip as he kissed his way down your neck.

"Bloody Jake, 's not fair, he always gets the girls, 's not fair, I'll show him-" Your thoughts were getting a little hazy, and the throbbing in your core became more and more apparent.

"Steven.." You breathed, if nothing else, he was eager to prove himself, fingers deftly ripping your panties down off of you.

"I can do it just as well as he can, you watch-" Steven didn't waste any time licking his way up to your clit, and sucking on it like a man starved. You cried out, hands falling to grip his soft curls. He was moaning and whimpering into you, just as you were above him. The seam of his boxers caught so deliciously on the head of his cock, and he all but cried into your cunt and he rocked his hips against the mattress.

Your hand came up to cover your moans, but Steven was having none of it, he halted his assault on your pussy, switching his tongue out for his fingers, deftly sliding inside of you, as you keened.

"No, no, none of that love, wanna hear ya, yeah?" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your toes curled as his fingers finally, finally found the spot. You writhed in pleasure, tugging harder on his hair. His mouth came back to suckle your clit, pistoning his fingers inside you with all the expertise that you would not have expected from him.

This hot mess contiuned for a while, until you were throwing your head back, pleasure soaring through your every nerve as you came all over Steven’s face, and he gladly drank your essence straight from the source. He didn't stop, though, he just kept going, the wet pad of his tongue doing wonders at overstimulating you- and from his canting hips and repeated whimpers, you could tell he was close too. It became too much however, and roughly you tugged his head up off of you, seemingly giving him the boost of masochistic pleasure he needed to tip himself over the edge, spilling himself into his boxers, moaning and drooling where he lay his head on your thigh.

You stayed like that for a moment, marvelling at Steven's beauty. He had his juices all over his face, messy boy. And had some of it gotten in his hair? He was a needy baby, too. He soon decided that he just wasn't close enough to you, and crawled up your body to snuggle himself between your breasts, sighing. His voice was muffled a little; "Was it good?" And you almost audibly "awed" at how cute he was being. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and you kissed his head;

"It was amazing Steven." He hummed, still a little jealous it seemed, "Bet Jake doesn't do that." You swatted his head lightly. "Don't be mean." "Just teasing love.."

It was still dark outside. Pussy-eating was a tiring activity, it seemed, as you felt Steven cuddle his way back to sleep in your arms. You kissed his head again, unconsciousness soon taking you as well. Steven was more resilient to new information than Jake thought, it seemed.

Dust To Dust

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, talks of alcohol/substance abuse, undefined relationship, sleepy sex, dirty talk!joel, unprotected piv, rough sex, possessive!joel, soft ending)

word count: 2k

joel masterlist | joel playlist | song inspo

You weren’t sure how it started, this…thing with Joel. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was weight of loneliness threatening to crush your bones, or maybe it was nothing at all—nothing besides a mutually felt need for one another that could no longer be kept at bay.

Each night after a long and brutal day in the QZ, you’d sneak into Joel Miller’s apartment, his spare key around your neck the closest you’d likely ever come to being claimed publicly as his.

Joel was always out cold when you arrived, the half-gone whiskey bottle on his bedside the most obvious substance to blame for his sedation, but you knew it went much deeper than that. He tried to hide it from you—the pills he had to take just to get a half-decent night of sleep—but his secrecy was no match for your hyper-observant nature. It wasn’t as though you even cared about the hydro and the oxy—everyone left in this brutal world had to find a way to sleep—but you knew Joel well enough to know that he didn’t want you to see just how deep the crevasse went, so you feigned cluelessness to protect his pride.

You didn’t bother to undress, and neither did Joel apparently, finding him snoring on his back fully dressed, his boots still on. You ran your hand up his stomach and chest as you stood at the side of the bed, stirring him enough to get him to roll over onto his side. Joel’s eyes batted open before squeezing shut again as he rolled over, your body quick to slip in behind him and tug the blankets over the both of you. You ran your hand up and down his ribs and stomach, lulling him back to sleep while also relaxing yourself. Joel’s hand rested on top of yours before sliding it up his chest until he was kissing your knuckles.

“Go back to sleep,” you mumbled against his shoulder blade your face nuzzled against it. Joel grunted in disobedience before rolling over to face you, his hand guiding your leg to rest over his hip. “I’m too tired to do anything athletic tonight,” you exhaled against his lips as he peppered barely there nips against yours. “You’ll have to do all the work.”

“Don’t I always?” he teased, the slur of his voice an indication that he was still drunk.

“Too sleepy to go back and forth,” you smiled against his lips.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his hands reaching down to his belt and fly, undoing them and tugging himself out. You shimmied your jeans halfway down your thighs before giving up, your ass flush against Joel’s hard on as he tugged you back against his chest, his cheek nuzzling against yours as you laid on your sides. “You wet?”

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself?” You grabbed his hand as it rested on your hip and slipped it between your thighs, a soft puff of air leaving his lips as his fingers were coated in your slick. “That wet enough for you, Texas?”

“It’s perfect,” he whimpered in desperation, not a trace of teasing in his voice. You felt drunk on his lust, pulsing for him long before he even touched you. When his finger began to circle your clit, you graced him with a moan, his lips pressing against the side of your face as he bucked his stiffened cock against your ass. “Tell me you need it, baby. Tell me how much you need me.”

“Fuck, Joel, I need you so much I could cry,” you begged, exhaustion and arousal turning you stupid. Joel groaned into your ear and nodded, pleased by the sound of your desperation. “Please baby, please. Put it inside me.”

“You gonna take me however I want tonight?” he husked as his hand left your pussy to wrap around his cock, his fist pumping it as he awaited your response.

“Yes,” you nodded, your walls twitching in anticipation.

“I wanna hear you,” he commanded as he lined his cock up with your entrance, dipping just the tip in before pulling out and sliding up to your clit to gather more slickness on his shaft. “I wanna hear every damn thing, alright?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, reaching back to lace your fingers in his hair. “I need your cock, baby. Please—“

“Here you go baby,” Joel hushed you as he slid his cock into your pussy slowly, inch by inch, taking your breath away as he pressed in as deep as he could go and held you there with his hand on your hip. “That what you wanted? To feel me like this?”

“Fuck, move,” you ordered but his tutted in your ear, his head shaking.

“How I want it, remember?” His voice whispering into your ear sent chills down your spine, your skin covered with goosebumps. Joel seemed to find it amusing how easily he could affect you, his hand smoothing along your skin to relish in the hairs he made stand up. “You like when I talk to you, darlin? Like my voice?”

Joel withdrew his cock almost completely before pressing back inside, a pathetic loan slipping from your lips as the blunt head of his cock glided along your favorite spot.

“Pussy’s already squeezin’ me,” he grunted into your ear as he continued this painfully slow in and out, your arousal flooding around his cock as he teased you to the brink of madness. “I could stay buried in your pussy for a lifetime, baby.”

“Joel, fuck,” you whined and reached back to hold his hip, wanting him closer but he was already flush against you.

“You’re doin’ so good,” he praised in a husky growl, his cock grinding as he kept it seated inside you. “Lettin’ me work you up…don’t worry, baby, I’ll give it to ya how you need it soon.”

You felt as drunk and high as he probably still was, your entire body alight at the mere scoot of his cock against your walls. This was what made him the most dangerous man in Boston in your eyes, not the violence he was capable of or the icy chill of his heart, it wasn’t his job or his bad habits, it was his ability to unravel you with as little as his skin touching yours, his voice in your ear, his eyes locked with yours as though you meant something.

“So soft,” he praised as his hand slid up the inside of your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip to spread you open a bit more, granting him access to your weeping cunt. Joel moaned into the side of your neck as he buried his face there, two of his deft fingers circling your bud that was already swollen and pulsing before he ever even made contact. “So warm.”

“Fuck, that f-eels,” you shivered, his cock surprising you with a full thrust against your g-spot, your vision going blurry at the pleasure that trickled down your thighs to your toes. “Joel, Christ.”

“Gonna get you to cum for me like this,” he detailed between kisses to your neck, his breath going ragged as your pornographic moans filled his apartment. “Then I’m gonna fuck you into the mattress until you’re drippin’ with me.”

“Fuck,” you whined against and clawed at the skin of his lower back where you continued to hold onto him. Joel moaned at the sharp sting and bit down on your shoulder, the pain blurring into pleasure with every punch of his cock up into your pussy. “Joel, I’m so fucking close, please don’t stop, I’m so fucking—“

“God, you sound so pretty,” he grunted as his hips began to snap into yours, your knee now hooked on his arm as he spread you apart on your side. You looked down with groggy and arousal drunk eyes to watch as his fingers worked over your clit, your brows narrowing with ever perfect strum of your pussy. “Jesus, gettin’ so tight I can hardly move.”

“Joel, I’m fucking coming—oh my god!” You we’re a whining, moaning, convulsing mess against him as he fucked you through your orgasm as slowly as he could, drawing out the death-like pleasure that coursed through your veins and nearly took you out of consciousness.

“Yes. Fuck. That’s my girl,” Joel panted in your ear as he rolled you onto your stomach, his hands lifting your hips until you were face down and ass up on the mattress. Joel’s clock shoved its way back into your pussy and you choked on the way he felt inside you, your fingers clawing at his sheets for purchase as he drilled into you without regard for your oversensitivity. “All mine, ain’t ya?”

“Joel,” you whined, unwilling to answer him given the murky nature of your situation.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he bent over your back, gripping your hair in his fist and turning your head to the side so he could speak directly in your ear. His hips never ceased in their ruthless clap! clap! clap! against the flesh of your ass, his cock rendering you speechless even if you wanted to obey him. “Come on, tell me this pussy belongs to me.”

“It’s yours,” you mewled, inching towards a more brutal climax. “My pussy belongs to you, Joel.”

“Good,” he growled and you could hear the smirk on his face. “Now tell me you’re mine.”

“But I’m not,” you shook your head and cracked your eye open to look at him over your shoulder, Joel’s face scrunched in offense as he stared back at you. “Am I?”

Joel nearly snarled as he somehow fucked you harder, your body sliding up the mattress from the force of his thrusts as he lowered his teeth to your earlobe, biting on it just enough to sting in the best way.

“Course you are,” he spoke. “You’re mine…and I’m yours.”

“You are?” You wanted to cry, not just from the way his cock was devastating you one thrust at a time, but from the admission.

Joel Miller was yours. That alone made living in this world worth it.

“I swear it,” he kissed your cheek and let out a shivered moan. “God damn. I want you to cum on my cock, baby. Make me yours and I’ll fill this pussy up and make you mine.”

“Jesus,” you sobbed into the sheets as your climax hit you like a freight train, your body going limp beneath his but he was quick to adjust his position with you, using your pussy like a toy until he was mewling your name like a prayer.

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, burying his face in the dio between your shoulder blades. “Gonna cum inside this sweet pussy.”

“Please,” you urged, reaching back to hold his ass as he fucked into you slow and deep. Joel moaned without inhibition as he spilled inside of you, his fingers leaving marks on your hips as he held you still.

“So fuckin’ good,” he praised in breathless pants, his cock scooting in and out of your now soaked cunt. “God damn.”

Joel pressed his lips against your skin before rolling over onto his back to catch his breath, your body lazily following him so that you could rest on his chest.

“I meant all that,” he spoke up after a few minutes of peaceful silence, half-expecting you to be out like a light.

“So did I,” you mumbled, your palm flat on his button-down covered chest.

“Bout damn time we finally said it,” he chuckled just enough to shake you as you laid on him.

“I was just waiting on you, Miller.” You lifted your head and rested your chin on his chest, reaching up to tickle his chin. Joel caught your hand in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing the pads of your fingers.

“Sorry to keep you waitin’ so long, baby.”

Full Body Workout

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: You challenge Miguel to a sparring match.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, teasing, begging, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected p in v, wrestling/ grappling for control, too many positions to list lol, mirror sex, dirty talk, creampie

WC: 3.4k

A/N: This prompt won the poll that I put out AGES ago. Sorry it took so long, personal life and work life have been getting in the way and my mental health tanked so I didn’t have it in me to write anything. But, I’m back and feeling inspired again so I was able to finish this. Also, let me know your honest opinion on the positions I wrote reader and Miguel in because holy shit that was harder than I thought it was going to be. I wanted to really capture the feeling that they were wrestling around on the floor, but didn't want to make it too confusing. Please let me know if it made any sense lol. It was a challenge, but fun to write so I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is encouraged and appreciated!!

Miguel is excited that you agreed to join him for his mid-morning workout. But excitement quickly turns to regret as you begin stretching on the mat in front of him. “This was a mistake," he mutters, and you look back and give him a questioning look.

 “How am I supposed to focus when you’re doing that?” He gestures to your ass on full display, sticking straight up in the air.

 You smile cheekily. "Well, if you don't want to watch me stretch, why don't you help me instead?" You teasingly wiggle your hips to entice him. It works, and he comes over to kneel on the floor behind you. Little do you know, he's planning to do a little teasing of his own as payback for distracting him. 

 He runs his hands up the backs of your thighs and gives your ass a light squeeze before maneuvering you onto your back. He raises one of your legs up and throws it over his shoulder, then leans over you. The tension in your hamstring causes a familiar burn and a thrill runs through you. When he switches legs, you feel his hardening bulge rub up against you and a soft moan slips from your lips. You try to move your hips against him, but before you can he places a quick kiss to your forehead and sits upright.

 "Alright, I think you've been thoroughly stretched out, now let's get to it." He shoots you a wink as he stands. You had been hoping he'd let his dick do all the thinking and forfeit his original plans for an entirely different, and way more desirable, form of workout. But he seems determined to stick to his normal routine, much to your disappointment.

 You get up, begrudgingly, to begin your own workout. It's leg day and you decide to start with some lunges. You intentionally face him, not wanting to miss the show. You love watching him workout. His sheer strength never fails to amaze you. Not only that, but he always does everything with such finesse and ease,, and you usually end up just bailing on your workout to watch him, your mouth watering and eyes glued to his body.

 It's not only his movements that are entrancing, but the sounds. My god, the sounds he makes. All the heavy breathing and grunting causes a wet heat to flare between your legs. If you close your eyes, you can picture him above you, fucking you with the same power and agility he's showcasing right now.

 He's in a pushup position, doing reps with a weight bigger than your head. Every time he pulls it up to his chest, he lets out a jagged exhale through his nose and you wish desperately you were feeling it on your neck while he pounds into you from behind.

 You find yourself completely mesmerized by the sounds he's making, the furrow in his brow, and the sweat glistening on his skin. It's a delicious sight and you realize you've completely stopped moving and are simply standing there, staring at him.

 He takes notice as he moves the weight to the other hand and catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye. You quickly look away but judging by the smirk on his face you know he caught you. He's too distracting, so you decide to finish the rest of your workout on the elliptical, just waiting for him to be done and hoping he'll take you back to the apartment and relieve you of the ache he's created between your legs.

 As you set your pace on the machine, you curse yourself for not bringing headphones. You can only just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, but you hear him as he's laid out doing bench presses. The grunting is going straight to your core and you feel a warmth starting to form in your belly. Now alight with burning need, you step off and go to stand in front of him. If he's not willing to postpone his workout to fuck you silly like you want, then you think you've got the perfect compromise.

 You walk over and stand in front of him, hands on your hips. “Let’s spar."

 "What?” he asks, finishing the set and then sitting up.

 "You heard me. I wanna spar. C'mon. Or are you scared I'm going to kick your ass?" You goad, knowing full well he could squash you like a bug if he actually tried.

 He smiles at you, amused by your trash talk, but hesitates. "I don't know if that's such a good idea…" It seems like he wants doesn't want to risk the chance of hurting you, which you both know he wouldn't let happen, but he's really just trying to fight the urge to fuck you. He's been struggling since he saw you saunter out in your tight workout clothes this morning. If you were to spar, he knows being that close to you would make him lose what little control he's clinging to.

 "C’mon, I just want to give it a try. I promise, I'll go easy on you," you joke.

“Okay," he chuckles, "but nothing too crazy. Just some basic grappling stuff." He rises off the bench, and lets his eyes roam your body. He curses himself for it as he feels himself growing hard. His eyes stay glued to your ass as he follows you to the mat in the middle of the room.

 He verbally walks you through a few maneuvers and you pick one to try. He gets into position behind you and holds you up against him, and you're supposed to duck out of his grasp. You attempt the move, and fail, so he pulls you back into him to try it again. You get into position, gripping his arm, and wait for him to give you the go ahead. He leans down to speak softly into your ear. "Good, just like that. Now try it again, but just a little faster."

 His words send a tingle across your skin and your grip on him loosens. With your guard effectively down, he spins you around and sweeps your feet out from under you. You let out a squeak and feel brace yourself, but he grabs you before you hit the mat and lowers you to the ground. You notice he now has you completely trapped under him. He holds your arms to your sides and uses his leg to pin one of your own down. He leaves one leg free, and you plant it on the ground, attempting to push yourself out of his hold, but it's useless. You let out a frustrated sigh.

 "Ready to give up?" he taunts, eyes gleaming with mischief.

 "It's not fair. I'm at a disadvantage," you whine, still attempting to free yourself from his grasp.

 "And why is that?" he questions. There are a million reasons you're at a disadvantage going up against him, but your answer is not one he is expecting.

 "My pants," you state plainly.

 "Your…pants,” he echoes, amused, but waiting for clarification.

 "They’re too restrictive. I don't have full range of motion." You wriggle under him and his eyes fall to your shorts. He admires the way the taught fabric hugs your thighs.

 “Hmm. Well, we wouldn't want this to be an unfair fight, would we?” He leans back and grabs the top of your pants and frees you from their confines. He sits back on his haunches and tosses the clothing side. Then, with as much force as you can muster up, you use your feet to push against his hips, effectively knocking him off balance. He topples over and his back hits the mat with a light thud. He's quite impressed, but before he can sit up and praise you, you crawl over to him and straddle his hips.

 "Nice move," he comments, and looks down to see you resting on his bulge and he can feel the wet heat of your core through his shorts. "Thanks. I learned from the best, " you say with a wink and begin grinding on him, causing the fabric to drag along your folds. You quicken the motion as you feel him twitch beneath you.

 After a few moments, you turn the other way and attempt to rid him of his shorts, giving him a glimpse of your bare ass in the process. The second you finish taking them off, he's pulling you back to hover over his face. You steady yourself and go to scold him for taking back control, but before you can say anything he pulls you down onto his face. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you gasp as he begins exploring you thoroughly with his tongue. You shiver at the warmth of his mouth against you.

 When your eyes finally flutter open, you catch a glimpse of his tip dripping with anticipation, begging to be touched. You lean down, grip his thighs, and begin gliding your tongue over his length. He grunts and you feel the sound reverberate over your clit.

 You want to feel it again, so you take him into your mouth and start sucking his head. He bucks his hips, pushing himself to the back of your throat. He lets out a long groan this time and you pull him in deeper. You gag a little and he grips your thighs tight as your throat constricts around him. You feel his heavy breathing grazing your skin as he laps you up feverishly.

 With your own pleasure building rapidly, you pull your mouth off of him and begin stroking him while letting out a steady stream of moans. You can tell you're getting close. Miguel can too, so he sloppily sucks at your clit, then rolls it gently between his teeth. This proves to be too much for you, and you grip him at the base as your orgasm washes over you. As the pleasure rolls through your body, you clench around nothing and realize how empty you feel without him inside you. He nips at your thighs as you come down and you give him a few sloppy strokes before sitting up, desperate to feel him fill you up.

 You start to crawl down his body, but he quickly pulls you backwards. You land with your back to him, and he secures you in place with his arm across your chest. He spreads your legs, holding them open with his own, and uses his free hand to begin rubbing himself against you.

 "I wanted to ride you," you pout, and angle your hips so that his tip catches on your clit as he slides back and forth against you.

 "By all means, go ahead and try." You attempt to wiggle free but it's futile. "Guess we're doing it my way," He enters you slowly, gliding in with no resistance. You both let out a low moan.

 "You take me so well," he praises. You sigh as he bottoms. He places kisses all up your neck while giving you a few seconds to adjust. His free hand settles on your hip, and you expect him to start thrusting into you, but he surprises you when he flips the both of you over.

 He cages you in against the floor and grinds into you, slowly but deeply. He has you whimpering into the mat, needing him to go faster. But you know he loves to torture you like this, intentionally setting a pace that has you writhing and begging for more, while keeping your climax just out of reach.  You crane your neck to try and get a good look at him, but he has his face buried in your neck. You tug on his hair to get his attention.

 "Let me see you," you whine.  When he lifts his head, he's enthralled by the sight of you, lips bitten and eyes wide. He crashes his mouth into yours and glides his tongue over yours, hungrily, before pulling away and flipping you over. He grabs one wrist in each hand and anchors them to the floor above your head.

 Desire flares in you as his eyes meet yours, staring back at you with such fervent need. He brings his face closer, and your noses brush as he stares deep into your eyes. Then without warning he's back inside you and begins fucking you with much more momentum than before. You wrap your legs around his hips and the new angle has his length reaching so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach.

 "Oh fuck, just like that," you say, breathily. Your ankles dig into his lower back, pulling him even deeper, causing his tip to find the exact spot that sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he stretches you. His grip on your wrists loosens and his eyes fall shut as he gets caught up the feeling of your silky walls hugging him. As you contract around him again and again, he drops his head.

 You now have a good view of his exposed neck and can see the sweat glistening on his skin. Your mouth starts to water at the sight, and you place a few sloppy kisses up the slope of his neck before dragging your tongue along the skin to get a taste. You feel his hips falter and he relaxes his grip on you. You take this moment of weakness to muster up as much strength as you can and roll him over until you're straddling him.

 He grunts as his head comes to rest on the floor. He moves his hands to your hips to attempt to regain control, but you grab them and put them above his head, mirroring the position he had you in just moments ago. "Who knew a few kisses to the neck is all it takes to overpower you," you tease. You begin to grind on him nice and slow, your walls dragging along his length. He moans and his lips buck under you.

 "Come on. Please," he implores, voice dripping with want.

 "Lucky for you, it's leg day." You plant your feet on the floor and begin to ride him in earnest, and his breath quickens. As you bounce faster and faster, he squirms underneath you, so much so that his wrists come free from your grasp. You place your hands on his chest to hold him down that way instead.

 Your palms travel the broad expanse of his chest and find it increasingly harder to stay steady as the pressure inside you builds. He senses you're struggling a bit, so he grabs your hips to help guide you up and down on his cock.

 Soon your whole body is thrumming with pleasure and, no longer able to hold yourself up, you collapse on his chest. Not wanting you to lose your momentum, he quickly begins thrusting up into you. He wraps his arms around you to pull you down onto him. Within seconds he has you crying out as you tumble over the edge. You bury your face in his chest and plant light kisses across his soft skin as you ride out your high. He fucks you through it, but you're so wet he eventually slips right out of you.

 You're still buzzing from you last orgasm, but he is desperate to feel your warmth again. He rolls you over into your side, then spots the mirror that panels the wall. He sits up and pulls you into his arms with your back pressed to his chest. He holds you tight to him, arm across your chest like a seat belt and the other across your waist.

 He gets up onto his knees and his eyes meet yours in the mirror. Anticipation pulses through you as his arm momentarily leaves your waist to line himself up with your entrance. Raw with need, he slides in and returns his arm to your waist and begins pulling you down onto him in tandem with his thrusts. If it weren't for his tight grip on you, you would have toppled over.

 Your breathing comes out in short, sharp pants and you look up to see the two of you in the mirror. His body is completely engulfing yours.  Not only are his arms around you, but your thighs are enclosed by his and they're pressing yours together. It makes you feel even tighter and Miguel grunts into your neck, and he can feel himself creeping closer to his own release.

 He lifts his head to kiss up the side of your face, then meets your gaze. It'd be apparent to anyone who could see the two of you like this that he has the upper hand. You can barely move except to angle your hips to take every forceful thrust. But you both know you have just as much control over him and his pleasure as he does you. It's evident in the way he squeezes his eyes shut and his hips stutter every time you walls grip him tight, and the way he has to do everything in his power not to cum as he hears those heavenly noises pouring from your mouth.

 He has to keep himself from cumming, determined to pull one more from you before he finally gives in. Your eyes flutter shut, and you attempt to reach up to run your fingers through his hair, your other hand hanging onto his forearm. Your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out a soft growl at the delicious burn.

 He dips his head down to nip at your ear. "Touch yourself," he commands, and you go to look at him over your shoulder, but he grabs your chin to angle your face to meet his in the mirror.

 "C'mon. I want you to see how fucking good you look when you touch with yourself.  I know your clit must be throbbing, don't you think it deserves a little attention?" The grovel in his voice and his measured thrusts have your mind a little hazy, so you don't move right away. Before your hand can catch up with your brain, he grabs your wrist and shoves it between your thighs for you. He stills his hips and pulls your legs apart so he can get a good look at your spread folds in the mirror.

 "Mmm. It's so swollen, just begging to be played with. Go on, play with that pretty pussy."  He gently glides your hand over your exposed nub, then pulls away you start moving on your own. "Look at you, getting yourself off while I'm inside you. Dirty little thing.”

 You do your best to nod in response. "You make me feel so full," you moan out as you swipe back and forth over your clit.

 He involuntarily bucks his hips, pushing himself deeper into you. He curses under his breath, and you lay your head back and look up at him. “You gonna fuck me?” You question while simultaneously rolling your hips, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

 “Or am I going to have to finish the job myself?” You feign a pout, and he leans down, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

 Your words spur him on, and he starts moving again. He's giving you slow, hard thrusts and you squeak as each one hits deeper and deeper. He notices your hand speed up and he fucks you faster to match the pace. The feeling of him filling you up, the soft squelch each time he bottoms out and his ragged breathing grazing your skin is all you can focus on, and he sees your wrist go limp. He's quick to replace your hand with his own. His fingers swirl in fast, tight circles around your clit and you let out what sounds like a sob.

 The sensation is too much, and you go rigid in his arms, white hot pleasure shooting across your body. He sees your eyes roll back as you gush around him, and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. You don't even register what he's saying and eventually go limp in his arms. He can still feel you fluttering around him, and he lets out a deep, guttural moan and releases inside you.

 He gently sets you down onto the mat and collapses beside you, thoroughly drained. As you're attempting to catch your breath, he pulls you up into his side and you rest your head onto his chest.

 "If I knew working out could be this fun, I'd come with you every day," you jest, although you'd be more than willing to add this to your routine.

 “So, same time tomorrow then?” He asks with a smile.