fear-and-delight-l

[fear-and-delight-l]

Next door part two! I NEED THEM IN MY LIFE THAT WAS SO GOOD!

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Wet Dreams, Sexual Fantasies, Brief Mentions of Male Masturbation, Blowjob, Cum Eating

Summary: Nice but naughty, a heart that’s pure. She's the girl next door.

Word Count: 2.6K (Not Edited)

Part 1

He’s driving himself fucking mad.

It’s been almost two weeks since he last saw you in person. It’s somewhat his fault. He hasn’t been avoiding you exactly, just giving you room. You were so dazed when he left you, he could almost smell the remains of sex on you. It drove him crazy, fists clenched as he stood outside your closed door for what felt like years. He cock strained so painfully against his pants that he had half the mind to pull it out and jerk off in the middle of the hallway. 

He didn’t want to scare you. Big, old him running after small, delicate you. A pretty and young thing that he wouldn’t mind locking in his bedroom and fucking until the sun rose and he was off to work. He could- would - worship you. He has done it thousands of times in the last two weeks in his dreams. They plague him almost every night, his body pressing you down into the mattress as you mewl out for him. He can hear the sound of your arousal as his balls slap against you echoing in his ears. Your phantom grip on his cock follows him when he wakes up, his hands wandering into his pants to try to replicate the feeling. 

He’s always interrupted by the sound of your front door slamming as you rush out to go to one of your little classes, his frustration and want burning strong in his chest. But he has to be patient, has to wait for you to seek him out. He can’t just break through your door, no matter how badly he wanted to and show you how a real man would treat you. How he’d treat you so good, spoil you in a way that none of the boys your age can. He could make you his pretty little girlfriend, giving you anything you want. Fuck, he’ll pay for your entire college tuition if you asked him to. 

Or, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d make you beg for it. Maybe he’d force you to work for it. He can already imagine it. He’d have you riding his cock, maybe even his face, laying back and watching you take your pleasure from him. He’d enjoy himself, moaning as you gasp and cry above him. You’d look so pretty with tears running down your face, asking him so sweetly to give you what you wanted. Your hips working to show him how much you deserved it, how you’re his good girl who deserves the right to every one of his credit cards. He’d have you coming until he’s satisfied with your pleas, finally giving in to you a-

Fucking annoying piece of shit.

Miguel’s eyes snap open, wondering to the alarm clock on his nightstand. The numbers are still blurry, and the sound of someone knocking on his door is the last thing he wanted. Especially when it pulls him away from his private time with you. His cock is poking a dent into his sweats, and he runs his hands down his face in frustration. He groans to himself as he gets up, adjusting his pants as he goes. His mind is still semi-stuck in his fuzzy little fantasy when he opens the door, mind slow as they try to process the sight of you. 

You’re looking up at him with regretful eyes, a blanket draped loosely around your shoulders. His eyes can’t help but travel down your body, salivating at the way your cropped long sleeve shirt pokes out from your nipples and reveals the expanse of your navel. His eyes travel further down, catching on the plaid pajama pants that sit low on your waist with the strings untied. If his cock wasn’t hard before, it definitely is now. 

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” Your siren voice calls to him, his eyes snapping back to your shy face as you bite your lip. “But, my heater is acting up again and I can’t sleep with it switching between hot and cold. I already called the landlord, but he said he’d send someone by next week.”

You look so pretty before him, cheeks slightly red from embarrassment as you stare up at him like he’s your savior. His hand grips tight on his door as he processes what you said. His poor little baby, suffering in her apartment. You should have come to him sooner. He would have gladly taken care of you. This just goes to show how he’s the only man capable of taking care of you, the only man you need to take care of your needs. 

His hand covers the expanse of your stomach as he touches it. His warm hand is instantly met with your cold skin, sending shivers up your spine as he pushes you back so he can walk through his door. You walk obediently, taking a step back for every step he takes forward until you’re following him like a sweet puppy into your own apartment. It’s ice cold when his bare feet hit the wooden floors, his eyes trailing down to your own sockless feet. It brings a frown to his face, brows furrowing as he leans down and picks you up. 

Your cold hands shock his shoulders as they hold onto him tight. The most precious squeal leaves your lips at the unexpected move, looking up at him with wide eyes as he carries you to your room. Most of the lights are on from your journey to the front door, but your bedroom is still clad in darkness. Your bed is soft when his knee sinks into it, lifting the covers to tuck you in where you’ll be nice and warm. He wraps them around you, covering you as much as possible. He makes sure you’re taken care of before he goes off into the hallway to check the heater. 

It’s a quick fix, something he can do easily and doesn’t need a maintenance guy for assistance. It’s just dirty air filters, and he has spares in his apartment. It's a quick trip, with minimal labor. It takes him less than an hour to complete, but it’ll take some time before the heat starts filling up the place. When he walks back into your bedroom, you’re still under the covers and they shake slightly from the way you’re shivering. 

“Got it fixed, should be working fine soon, give it an hour max.”

The soft thank you and beaming smile you give him tempts him to break something else in your house so you can give him more. He walks over to you, sitting next to you on the bed. Your skin still quakes from the chill, and he hates to see you so uncomfortable. His hand comes up to your cheek, attempting to warm the skin with the heat of his hand. You instantly melt into the touch, practically purring as you lean into his hold. He’s seen this scene so many times in his dreams that he can't help the dirty thoughts circulating in his head. 

The darkness of your room hides the glazed look in his eyes as he studies your mouth, his thumb rubbing the expanse of your cheek, “You’re so cold, cariño. Needa find a way to warm ya’ up quick.”

The words are almost unheard, his thumb sliding down your face until it presses into your bottom lip. Your lips part slightly from the movement and he doesn’t ignore the temptation to slip the pad of his thumb through. Your mouth is warm and oh so inviting, your saliva coating his thumb print. You instinctively suckle at the skin, eyes shining bright at him as you open your mouth wider. It makes him groan softly, pressing his thumb further into your mouth until his hand is supporting your chin as his thumb presses flat against your tongue. It holds you still, blinking innocently at him as he rubs gently. 

He can feel his cock twitching in his pants, and it doesn’t take him long before he picks you up again, dragging you and the covers to the floor until it forms a pile before him. You’re on your knees, body half covered in blankets and sheets. They protect you from the icy cold of the wooden floors, and simultaneously makes you look like an offering for him. Miguel spreads his legs, grabbing your chin again until your face is hovering at the same height as his stomach. Your beautiful doll eyes blink up at him and he smiles at the sight of you. 

“It’s okay, I got a way to make you feel better again.” He mumbles down at you, his free hand fishing into his pants until he grips his cock.

It’s heavy and burning in his touch, a bead of precum glistening at the tip as it meets the frigid air. You stare at it in wonder, leaning your face closer to see better through the darkness. He watches you closely, slowly stroking his base as he basks in your attention. His hand leaves your chin, moving around until he grips the back of your neck. He pushes your face closer to him, stopping when your face is pressed to the underside of his cock. 

The skin burns where the two of you meet, and his cock jumps in excitement. His hips move slightly, slowly dragging his cock along your face, the tip of your nose brushing just under his tip. Miguel lets out a muffled moan, his hand squeezed tight at his base as he slaps his dick against your face. Your eyes instantly closed, taking it without complaint besides a low whine. 

Miguel lets out a low ‘fuck’ as he looks down at you, pulling your face away until his tip presses against your lips. He rubs his cock along the seams of them, watching as they get glossy with his precum. Your tongue tentatively slips out, gathering some of it as you hum out. His cock is quick to follow your pink muscle, slipping in the crown of his tip into your mouth. He can feel your hot breath on his tip as you gasp at the intrusion, your tongue pressing against him. 

He lets out a pleased sigh, slipping his tip back out to slip it back in. You try to call out his name, but it gets swallowed by his cock reentering your mouth. Your hands fall to his thighs, gathering the fabric in your fingers as you lean into him. You instantly gag when you do, mouth and throat not used to taking something thick. It makes Miguel moan, knowing damn well he’s nowhere near the back of your throat yet. You’re so fucking sensitive. He pulls back, but you eagerly try to follow. His grip on your neck tightens, making you whine as he keeps you in place and he slips out. 

“Careful now, muñeca. Don’t hurt yourself.”

You whimper at his words, blinking teary-eyed at him. He coos gently down at you, shutting you up by sliding himself back into your mouth. You hum against him, eyes shutting as he works himself in and out. He barely gives you anything, going no further than the end of his tip as your tongue glides against him. He moans, finally feeling what he’s wanted for so long. You’re sloppy, tongue uncertain as it prods at his slit and drinks up the precum he spills into your mouth. It’s warm and slightly salty as it travels down your throat, making something warm bloom in your stomach. Your hands fist his pants tighter and Miguel’s eyes drop down to them. 

His finger is gentle as it glides over the back of your hand, the cold skin raised with goosebumps. He tsks lightly at you, grabbing your hand and placing it around his length. He moans at the contrast in temperature, hips bucking into your touch. 

“Shit, baby, gotta warm up those hands too.”

He grabs your other hand, putting it slightly lower than your other on his cock. His hands leave your body, falling over your own as he guides you to stroke him. His tip still lingers in your mouth, and you moan around him from how heavy and warm he is in your grasp. Once you work up a rhythm, Miguel’s hands leave yours. His hand falls back to its original position at the back of your neck, letting out soft groans and grunts as you work him. He massages the pressure points near the back of your neck, encouraging your mouth to relax and start sucking at him again. 

Miguel can’t help throwing his head back, eyes shutting as you work waves of pleasure out of him. He can feel his balls grow heavier. His cock twitching and jumping in your mouth the more you play with him. He’s close, and he looks back down at you before he pulls his cock away from you again. You cry out in displeasure, looking up at him with a pout on your wet lips. He sighs deeply at you, moving back to grip your chin. 

“Open your mouth for me, yeah?”

You instantly do, not needing to be asked before you stick your tongue out eagerly. He chuckles lowly at your desperation, hand tight around his base as he rubs his tip against your tongue. You whine at him, eyes getting droopy as he slaps his cock against your muscle. It doesn’t take long for him to cum in your mouth, watching as thick, white liquid spills onto your tongue. He moans as he finishes, tapping his cock against your tongue a few more times to make sure he’s given you everything. 

When he pulls his cock away from you, you close your mouth and swallow. Your eyes close as you savor the flavor, feeling the warm liquid slip down your throat and warm your belly. The warmth makes you sleepy, eyes half-lidded as you lean forward and press your head to his stomach besides his semi-hard cock. His hand comes to stroke your hair, humming at you as your warm breath hits his skin. Sometime during his attempt at warming you, warm air has started to spill into the bedroom. Miguel sighs in content, leaning down to kiss the top of your head before picking you up for the last time. 

You instantly snuggle into him, always whining out when he deposits you into the bed. Your covers are soon placed over you, and you watch as Miguel tucks himself back into his pants before sliding into bed beside you. You’re quick to snuggle up against him again, basking in the extra warmth he gives off. The warmth in your stomach and from Miguel loll you into a sleep, your body pressed hard against him. 

The comfort of it all and the post-orgasmic bliss makes Miguel drowsy, breaths beginning to slow. He can feel his eyes drooping, taking in the final sights of you before his eyes close. But once they do, a loud band echoes in his head. He’s quick to spring up from the bed, eyes opening as he finds himself staring at a wall. His wall. In his bedroom. In his apartment. Even from his bedroom, he can hear the sound of you rushing towards the elevator and on the way to class. 

Miguel blinks in confusion, eyes moving towards the alarm clock at his bedside table. 8AM. He groans, falling into his bed as he sighs in frustration. His hands trail down his body, moving towards the aching dent in his pants.

Just another fucking dream about the girl next door.

Pt. 3 Pt. 4

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[fear-and-delight-l]

Disrespectful

Pt.1

[fear-and-delight-l]

FANART OF @spdrvyn ‘s fan fic “let’s be lonely together” 🥹🥹 (with OC inserted)

AAAAAA THE SECOND I FINISHED READING IT I PICKED UP MY PEN AND OPENED MY IPAD. 😭💕🤌🤌 I HAD TO- ALSO I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK 🤌🤌✨✨💕💕

[fear-and-delight-l]

𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔞

(the fan art is from @RamiroAart on X!)

+18 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

summary: after taking your car to get an oil change with your debit card not working, you offer a solution to the mechanic.

content warning: this is a bit taboo, so I'm putting a SMALL WARNING HERE. Proceed with PRECAUTION. miguel wears a virgencita necklack, pussy slapping, cunnilingus (f! recieving), overstimulation, fingering, semi-public (he fucks you in a garage, but it's closed), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, people). If I miss any, let me know.

word count: +1.4k words

author’s notes: there have been so many changes to this, it's not even funny 😳

Oil changes. They will be the epitome for you. The visits to the mechanics near your house were always dreaded, especially since they reminded you of doctor visits. But instead of paying a small co-pay of ten or twenty dollars, your car costs more than life itself regarding its separate parts.

But paying for it? Your poor little debit card couldn't get a good read of the PIN reader. So what do you do? Give the mechanic an offer he can't skip.

“Compórtate bien, muñeca o te voy a castigar.”

The once-open entryway of the mechanic’s shop is now closed. But your legs? They were wide open to a munch. The man who changed your oil is now going down on you like a hungry dog. “Your pussy is so pretty…” He mumbles. You felt yourself squirm on the hood of your car, feeling his fingers hover at your entrance, with the tips of his fingers gathering the clear discharge.

Moving his fingers away, he laid his tongue flat against your entrance, moving from the bottom to the top, letting his tongue linger on your puffy clit. While sucking on your clit, the sensation of something cool lightly tap at your core, causing you to squirm. “Let's move her out of the way…” Miguel pulls away before you see the thing that dangled at your entrance. With swift hands, he maneuvered the virgencita charm away and to the nape of his neck. “We don't want her to see this.”

“What?” You whined, soon propping yourself on the hood and looking at Miguel going down on you once again, eat you out like you were the last meal of his life. With one hand, you buried your hand into his hair and let out a loud groan. He pauses momentarily, feeling your gaze. He pulls away, looks up at you from where he is, and chuckles. “Que asquerosa,” He darkly chuckles. With a heavy hand, he slaps at your puffy bundle of nerves, earning a yelp from you. “You wanna see me fuck you? You want to see?” He placed his fingers against the irritated skin, massaging the irritation slowly.

A tiny groan escaped before you covered your mouth quickly. “Let’s prep you, okay?”

One finger suddenly became two, feeling yourself getting ready for your sweet release. “Please…” You whined, grinding yourself on his fingers.

“Hmm, should I add a third finger?” He chuckles before a sharp, stretching pain greets you as his three fingers bottom out and slowly pump you. A scream fills the space before Miguel covers your mouth with his free hand. “Shh, shh. I know, muñeca.” He whispers, keeping up the slow pace. “I have to prep you for me, okay?” He moves his hand away from your mouth and places it on your hip, getting a good grip on you, not allowing you to squirm on the hood of your car.

The same build-up on your lower stomach came back to you, making you moan out loud for anyone to hear. “Please, please.” You plead, guiding your hips up and down on his fingers, relieving yourself. “Why are you begging? You're doing the work yourself.” He chuckled at the sight before him, seeing you watch yourself pleasing yourself and building up more arousal on his fingers. “Enough cariño. My turn.”

/

“You know what you do to me.” He whispers, getting you comfortable. Being bent over a table with your pussy out in the open while being face-down felt humiliating, but you felt giddy. The sound of a belt clinking behind you and a zipper going down heightened your senses and made your mouth water. One of Miguel’s hands gripped your hip, with the other hand nowhere on your body. You looked over your shoulder but got something else in return. With a heavy hand, a loud spank at your pussy fills the space. You turned back to look at the table below you and kept in your moan instead, biting down on your lips.

“C’mon, let me hear those pretty little noises you make…” A harsh, hot pain hits again, almost as if you were a strong stallion needing to be tamed down. The more the hits became close to your entrance, the louder your wanton cries became.

“You like getting spanked here…” His fingers gently rub at the red marks, giving you a moment to breathe. “Now, be a good girl and open up.” The feeling of his fingers spreading your entrance is enough to make you shudder and wait for what you've been wanting ever since you entered this mechanic's shop. A nudge against your entrance before a lowly aching pain overwhelmed you.

Propping yourself up against the table, you exhaled but soon bucked your hips toward his length and slowly sliding his length without holding back.

“There you go. Take your time, muñeca…”

You stopped yourself, not even letting his length halfway in. “Is it in?” You breathed.

A laugh escapes the mechanic, playfully patting your rear. “More or less.” He breathes, feeling your walls flutter at his length. “You’re not going to fit…” You whined, feeling him push his length inside you and his girth stretch you, painful but pleasurable.

“I’ll make it fit…” He shushed you, patting his hand on your hip. He slides into you, groaning in relief, seeing his length disappear into you.

Your mouth is agape, feeling you buck your hips back, wanting more. “C’mon—” Miguel’s words fade as a knock on the garage door greets the two of you, with Miguel being nearly balls-deep in your cooch.

“Keep silent, muñeca.” He whispers, slowly thrusting into you before the tempo increases. The knock came back, but Miguel ignored it, making your pleasure a priority. You let out a quiet whine, only for Miguel to reach over to cover your mouth immediately. “Keep it quiet, do you understand?” You nod eagerly, moving your hips along with his thrusts. Eventually, the person leaves, allowing the two of you a sense of comfort.

Beads of sweat landed on your bare back as your breathing became more labored, and you felt the same sensation on your lower stomach returned to you. “Fuck, you're tight…” He lets out a breathy whisper, nearly fucking you onto his work table. The force of his hips against you is nearly enough to knock over some of his tools, letting them shake and knock over onto the wooden desk.

“Tómalo… ay carajo…” He groans as you bounce back, creating a loud, wet sound throughout the shop. Looking down, Miguel could see at the base of his cock, forming a white ring, a combination of his cum and your clear discharge. “C’mon, come. You can do it, cariño.” His sweet praises are brushed aside as your moans evolve into screams of pleasure.

“C’mon, make me proud.”

The girth and the way his length rubs against your clit soon because too much for you, allowing you to finish. A sudden splash zone onto Miguel was the thing he least expected, feeling your juices coax his length and creating a puddle underneath the two of you. “Good girl…” He breathes before he continues to thrust into you, wanting to chase his release.

“I’m almost done. Give me a second…” The motions became more harsh and rapid, earning a scream of pleasure and your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Another release from you soaked the two of you, mostly on Miguel’s upper thigh, and lower stomach a bit. “She still got it.” He chuckles before he bucked his hips against yours harshly. “Want me to fuck a baby into you?” He croons, moving harsher and faster.

You nod, too cock-drunk to give him words. “Use your words.” He gave you a harsh spank on your rear, causing you to open your mouth. “Fuck yes! Oh God, fuck yes!” You scream out, soon kegeling his cock. “Fuck! You got me fucked up…” Miguel groans into your ear, keeping the same place. The sensation of his load crashing into your orgasm creates a mess between the two of you.

After a moment, the sensation of him pulling out made you whine, and you soon felt his load slowly seep out of your flutter hole. You whimper and soon get greeted by a gentle kiss from him. His fingers gently gather his seeping cum and shove it back into you. “Keep it all in. I don't want to leave a mess.”

Ironic to say that now.

[fear-and-delight-l]

BLESS HIS HEART 😭❤️❤️

You're Baby Girl, don't question it, just accept it. 🫶🏻

Rhea is having so much fun sending him all the stuff. 🤣

[fear-and-delight-l]

Dad's "Best" Friend Peter B. comes to Dinner🍝🍷

DBF!Peter B. Parker x Fem shy less experienced!Reader

Synopsis: Your dad's new friend from work comes over for dinner and he's a lot cuter than you were expecting. 💋 Word count 5.8k

A/N: Giving my man Miguel a damn break for once LMAO. Jk, it won't be for long, I just have like 6 wips with him at the moment and can't decide which one to work on. 😩 Then I had a dream about Peter B. and so now let me get this out of my system. I was gonna let us f*ck but then I got to 5k words so part 2?! Lmk.

TW: MINORS DNI, LEGAL AGE GAP: PETER B. IS 38, READER IS IN LATE TWENTIES, SMUT (69, ORAL SEX F AND M RECEIVING, READER HASN'T HAD AN ORGASM BEFORE/LESS EXPERIENCED, FINGERING, HANDJOB, ORGASM) IMPLIED DIFFICULT RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR DAD, READER IS SHY WITH SOCIAL ANXIETY

------

"Dad...."

"You're not burning the meat, are you?"

"It's literally the same spaghetti sauce I always make! Out."

Your dad shoves a spoon into the pan of bubbling red tomato sauce and steals a taste, huffing frantically like a dragon at the hot temperature.

"It's not ready yet! Jesus..."

You shoo your dad out of the kitchen for the umpteenth time with a roll of your eyes. Normally, you couldn't give two shits about making dinner, particularly when your dad almost always found something to complain about whenever you cooked, leading you to take a semi-permanent hiatus.

However, you found out he was inviting his new friend from work, and you quickly realized you'd rather die than subject an innocent stranger to the atrocity that was your dad's cooking skills.

Instead you let him handle dessert, easily solved with a frozen ice cream cake from the store. You looked at the clock nervously that was creeping up on 7 pm. The guest would be due to arrive at any time.

You didn't worry about dressing up too much since you were running around all evening, wearing one of your college crew neck sweaters and favorite leggings. At least you cared to match your fuzzy socks this time with your hair just the way you liked to wear it and a freshly done face with the level of makeup you'd flaunt for special occasions.

At the sound of a small knock from the door, your dad grumbles, saying he'll answer it and he shuffles towards it with a burnt tongue. You resume anxiously tending to the sauce, mentally preparing yourself to socially mask for the next two hours.

You hear a man's voice. It's mellow and humble, turning down your dad's overbearing insistence on waiting on him hand and foot, meekly asserting he can hang his own suit jacket and graciously thanking him for inviting him over.

At the sound of their approaching footsteps in the kitchen, you turn, offering your most gorgeous smile to the new stranger, your dad's new so-called "best friend" (a title easily acquired by anyone who let him mindlessly yap about world governments for longer than five minutes), and extend your hand to him.

You feel your pupils dilate when you're greeted with a firm yet soft grip that contains almost a fraction of the warmth as the silken chestnut brown of his eyes.

He looks younger than your dad, somewhere in his late thirties. He's tall, about 6'2 with a lean muscular build that's highlighted in the way his white button down shirt hugs his arms, the bottom of which is tucked into gray slacks that sit on his narrow waist. He wears a pleasant smile with dazzling teeth.

His tone of voice is soothing, almost innocent with an edge of allure in the way he said certain phrases that you can't quite put your finger on, kind of like how he said...

"You must be my friend's daughter. He didn't mention how lovely you are..." Making your cheeks nearly hotter than the spaghetti you prepared.

"Ah, well, she gets it from her old man!" Your dad cuts in. You can't help but sigh and turn your attention back to the food, not knowing that Peter's eyes wouldn't leave you the rest of the evening.

At dinner, you politely dish up both men a healthy serving of buttery spaghetti and the rich, homemade sauce. A medley of sweet tomatoes and fresh garlic fills your belly as you all silently eat. The gentle sounds of your metal forks tapping against the porcelain of your plates and the hollow sound of wine being sipped from a glass.

Your dad blabs and practically monopolizes the majority of the dinner conversation. You tune in only to the part where he introduces Peter B. a little further, a small smile playing on your lips as you nod and listen intently as he tells his story.

He's Peter Benjamin Parker, a 38 year-old divorcee with a nearly four year old daughter who works in finance alongside your dad.

They bonded over similar interests and your dad loudly cuts in and says since Peter was one of the only people at work who truly recognized his potential for what it was, he'd told him he'd repay him one of these days with a homemade dinner and glass of wine at his place, to which he simply couldn't say no.

Your dad goes to butt in and steer the conversation back to his isolated ramblings but Peter politely cuts him off,

"I'd like to hear more about you," he says with a smile. The twinkle in his eye throws off your train of thought as you struggle to form an answer with some semblance of clarity.

You tell him you're in your late twenties, trying to balance college and work while living with your dad in hopes of getting your own place when you graduate. He nods solemnly and seriously as you describe your dreams and ambitions for the future, occasionally validating you with a gentle hum or a "go on," with the ghost of a smile on his lips as he listens intently, none of the other topics of the evening seized his attention quite so strongly as you are now.

Your dad seems to accept defeat at his failure to reclaim the conversation and shifts all his attention to the food in front of him, stuffing his face as you converse with Peter. You find your cheeks start to hurt towards the end of dinner from all the smiles he's drawing out of you with his questions and his silly quips that you can't help but beam at, even if they would sound atrocious coming from anyone else.

Somehow, this new friend of your dad's fell out of the handsome tree and managed to knock every single branch on his way down of things you found yourself wildly attracted to, the wine in your glass pushing you closer to him by the time dinner ended.

At your dad's suggestion, you played a few rounds of a card game called Thirty-One, the smirk on Peter's face widening even more in silent admiration as you won hand after hand. A smile breaking across your lips when Peter let out an exasperated laugh at your knocking for a close 30 right after he just got done dealing. He touched your hand, his soft fingertips lingering on your knuckles as he joked with your dad that you had to have sabotaged the deck when he wasn't looking as your dad threw his cards on the table with a shake of his head and a loud yawn at his pitiful 15 and Peter's sad 23.

You watched Peter as he skillfully shuffled and stacked the cards away into a neat pile. Those long, gentle fingers of his expertly bending and handling the cards, making them all fall perfectly in a flawless cascade against his palms, your heart nearly coming to a dead stop in your chest when you feel the top of his knee momentarily press against yours underneath the table.

Soon after dessert and one or two more red wine glasses, your dad is waddling towards his room down the hall scratching his back, teasing you two not to stay up too late and telling Peter he's welcome to whatever leftovers he wants in the fridge and the guest bedroom next to his in case he's unable to drive. You nod and mutter goodnight, the air flooded with awkward tension as his door clicks softly behind him.

You shyly stand up, and tell Peter you should probably do the dishes, to which Peter offers to help. You shake your head but he doesn't take no for an answer, the dimple in his smile growing as he rolls up his sleeves over his forearms, striding towards the kitchen before you can utter one more word in protest. Soon, you're rinsing the dishes as he scrubs, he'll pause every so often and turn down the volume of the water coming from the sink so he can hear you a little better, modest whiffs of his cologne coming from his neck that make you a little weak in the knees as he seems to get closer and closer to you on your side of the sink, an entire colony of butterflies soaring in your tummy every time his hand brushes against yours as he hands you a new dish.

You humbly suggest a movie afterwards before you call it a night as you take turns drying your hands on the dish rag. He smiles and follows you to the couch, sitting next to you. You feel your face heat up and you try to find something to watch, making a busy, quiet clicking noise with your teeth to fill the gaps of silence between you two.

You know you're not at the point that you can just turn on one of your cheesy chick flicks with him, so, you randomly suggest a scary movie, knowing damn well that you're a huge chicken when it came to watching them.

The corner of Peter's mouth twitches a little. Scary movies, the oldest trick in the book. Neither of you were born yesterday. A guy and a girl with obvious tension between the two of them, sitting late at night on a couch all alone, with a scary movie playing that would inevitably make the space between them very, very thin. You know it, and he knows it, but he nods his head.

"You sure you wanna watch a scary one?"

You shrug innocently, and respond in an overly optimistic manner. "Yeah, I mean, they're not too bad. I might need to close my eyes for certain parts but I can handle it."

Peter smirks. "Okay...if you say so."

You select the movie, and as the screen loads, Peter says to you in a lower tone, "You know, at any point in time, you can pause it and put on something else."

You shake your head. "Nahhh. I'll be fine," shooting him an overconfident smile.

A few jump scares in, the blanket on your lap is tickling the bottom of your nose as you hold it to your face, occasionally bringing it up over your forehead with a few small whimpers.

Peter's doing his best to play it cool as well, but he finds himself also jumping at some of the more intense scenes, mostly because of how reactive you are, your elbow occasionally bumping his, making him shudder in alarm at parts that weren't even that scary, your nervous energy feeding onto him.

At one point, it's obvious that another big scare is coming up as the main character starts to walk down a dark hall, the unsettling hum of the chilling music blasting from the speakers, both of you holding your breath.

You look to your left and Peter looks to his right, your faces meeting in the middle. You both giggle as you look at each other, neither of you brave enough to turn your attention back to the screen.

"What's happening?" you whisper playfully to him.

He chuckles and whispers back, "I don't know."

"Just look and tell me if that one scary guy is about to come on."

Peter smiles and shakes his head, "No, you do it."

"Peter! For fuck's sake, pleaseee..." you hiss giving him a playful nudge with your elbow.

Peter sighs and slowly turns back towards the screen, then he pauses the movie. Your head is still turned to him, your cheek pressed against the back of the couch in an effort to hide your gaze from whatever spooky image is on screen.

"You can look, there's nothing there, I paused it." Peter whispers.

You turn, and bam, the demon's face is frozen perfectly in a menacing look, taking up the entire frame. You let out a little scream and immediately clap your hands to your mouth as Peter cracks up. You reach out and smack him, both of your hands alternating as Peter playfully tries to weakly defend himself with his own.

"You...bastard! I'm gonna kill you Peter!" You say through clenched teeth, throwing a spare pillow into his chest.

Peter catches one of your hands and the smile fades from both of your faces as you feel your hands fully touch for the first time. His palm gently smooths over yours, interlacing his fingers.

You feel your stomach flutter, and his does the same. He pulls you a little closer and he smirks down at you when you fall against his chest.

"Hi...", he whispers, his eyes getting lost in yours.

"Hey..." you answer softly. You're about to dive headfirst into those sweet brown eyes when you realize:

Shit-your dad.

Your heart hammers in your chest a little as you turn your head quickly to the side, sitting up and peering over the couch to see any signs of activity coming from his bedroom down the hall.

"Shit...he might have woken up." You murmur.

"Nah...I don't hear anything." Peter cranes his neck as well, his chin lightly brushing the top of your head as he pulls you even closer so his arm is around you on the back of the couch.

"I could've sworn I heard something," you murmur. Your heart rate has sped up tremendously, you can feel him right there, on the side of your face. If you turn and look at him, it's over.

Peter smiles softly, his eyes on you while you're still focused on the back of the hall. The top of his pointer finger gently grazes the outline of your jaw, pausing just on the corner of your chin. He presses it a little harder, gently guiding your gaze to look at him.

You feel your cheeks utterly burn as you face him fully, hyper aware of the minimal distance between your noses. Your breath catches in your throat as you see his eyelids droop, and then eventually close as he leans in to kiss you.

You wet your lips, leaning in as well, then finally meet his in a soft, delicate first kiss. Peter gently draws in air through his nose, releasing the breath in the form of a soft moan into your mouth as he moves his lips again, this time perfectly sandwiching them between his. Your lashes flutter at the tantalizing sensation as you allow your lips to dance with his, your stomach practically flying away when you feel his free hand gently press against the side of your neck.

He scoops you in closer with his arm that was laying on the back of the sofa, then bringing it to cup your face also. He holds your face tenderly in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks as he makes out with you on the sofa, his tongue gently gliding over your lips, coating them in the wet warmness of his mouth.

The sweetness of the tomatoes, and the dark red wine laced on his tongue bring you even closer, the heat between your bodies almost becoming too much for your respective places from where you sit, begging to be transferred onto the other's skin.

Peter pulls you into his lap and you take it a step further, straddling him with one leg on either side of his lap, your hands tangling themselves in his sandy brown hair, weaving between those light grey streaks with a soft, high pitched moan.

"Fuck..." Peter groans at your noises. He gently turns your head to the side for better access and his lips start attacking your neck. Soft and messy, he blazes a trail of wetness all along your collarbone, his fingers gently tugging at the neckline of your sweater. You indulge him and slip it off, leaving him breathless as you sit there straddling his lap in your bra. "Look at you..."

You bite your lip with a smile and lean back, freeing your breasts, allowing the soft globes to spill out from over the top of the cups.

Peter lets out a breathy moan at the sight, "Beautiful...mmm..." and leans forward, eagerly locking his lips around your left breast, while gently rolling the nipple of your right. You moan and slowly tilt your head back, your breaths shaky as you let Peter enjoy your body, feeling the soft, wet pad of his tongue swiftly swirl around your nipple, leaving the bud nice and perky as his lips suck and release it with a tiny plop. The chilly air around it makes goosebumps appear all across your chest, and Peter switches sides, taking your right breast in his mouth. He lets his tongue trace circle after circle around the delicate areola, moaning at the taste of your skin, making you suck in air between your teeth as he hollows his cheeks, beginning to lightly suck your breast as though he were trying to make you cum from the motion alone.

Your breaths are growing higher and higher in pitch. Your brow furrows as your mind is ripped between two directions of trying to relax and focus on all the pleasure he's giving you while controlling the volume of your moans.

Your lips fall open as you feel Peter gently start rolling his hips underneath you, the fabric of his pants straining against his raging erection. You start humping your pussy against him, and he closes his eyes, letting out a deep sigh as he moans your name.

"Yeah, Peter....?" you answer breathlessly as you gently roll your hips in a circle.

Peter can barely speak at this point, his mouth wide open as he leans back, his hands rubbing your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze before they snake behind your back, unclasping your bra.

"Shit..." He breaths out as he sets your breasts free with a little bounce and your entire upper torso is now exposed to him. He tosses your bra onto the couch next to him, biting his lip as his hands run and caress all over every square inch of your body. "How're you so perfect...come closer, beautiful..."

You gasp a little as you feel his hand grab you around the back of your neck, forcing your lips a little more intensely against his this time. You moan, sucking and biting his lip, not minding the bit of stubble from his face pricking your cheeks, allowing your soft giggles to escape into his mouth.

"Mmm....what's so funny, cutie?" Peter smirks his lips against yours, one of his hands tugging at your leggings. Your breathing speeds up, a sharp, high pitched moan leaving your lips when you feel his hand cup your clothed pussy.

Peter smiles devilishly, biting his lip as well as he holds you in his hand, his hand gently pulsing and applying more pressure against your throbbing cunt. "This feels good?"

"Peter..."

"What, baby?" He teases, cocking his head a little at you, the heel of his palm pressing against your clothed clit.

"I need you...fuck, I need you.." you whine.

"Need me how, baby?" He whispers, this time pressing a wet, loving kiss to your lips. "Hmmm, baby... tell me?"

"I...w-want you to fuck me..."

Peter gives a low groan, continuing to fondle your pussy outside of your clothes, driving you mad.

"Yeah, pretty girl...?"

"Yes Peter....please baby...?"

Peter lets out a little chuckle and presses a soft kiss to your lips. "I will, sweetheart...just be patient for me." He shifts underneath you, pulling you off his lap. You catch your breath, panting as you watch him pull up a couch pillow and prop it behind you.

Peter catches the back of your head with his hand, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips as he gently lays you backwards, your hair spread out on the pillow, groaning at the sight of the beautiful half naked goddess laid out for him.

"You're absolutely perfect..."

You bite your lip and reach up, one of your fingers teasing the buttons of his shirt. "Your turn to show me..."

His cheeks burn pink but he flashes you a little smile as he unbuttons it completely and lets the flaps fall away from his body, giving you a delicious view of his chest and stomach, the dark brown hair decorating his pecks and the lean muscle underneath, from the slightest pudge of his belly at the bottom, making your mouth water. His shoulder muscles ripple faintly as he removes his shirt altogether and sets it to the side, returning to running his hands up and down your thighs.

Those big beautiful brown eyes stay locked with yours as he presses a kiss to your sternum. You giggle and tangle a hand in his hair as he moves down your tummy, the low tones of his voice vibrating against your body, and traveling straight to your pussy.

He kisses your stomach one more time and gently hooks his fingers underneath your panties and leggings. You lift your hips for him in silent obedience, your lips falling open as you watch his face utterly burn with lust as he pulls them off of you.

Peter lets out a low groan, licking his lips as he lets his eyes roam all over your naked body. Those brown eyes find yours again, taking note of your labored breaths. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his thumb smoothing along the shape of your bottom lip. "You doing okay, beautiful?" He asks in a low tone, slightly rubbing his nose against yours.

You nod slowly, your face burning. "It's just, Peter I-"

"Yes, sweetheart?" His eyes search you with concern, the gray five o'clock shadow of his face highlighted in the soft yellow glow coming from the lone reading lamp on the other side of the room by the TV. He's unbelievably handsome, this caring man who was only a stranger hours ago, looking at you as though his gaze alone could somehow convey the degree of worship he felt you deserved, somehow managing to show greater care and tenderness to your body than any other man you dealt with before. You'd let him do this every day if it meant you'd never get used to this intoxicating feeling.

"I've never um..."

"Mhmm?"

"I've never had a..."

"You're a virgin?" He asks softly, stroking your cheek.

"No I mean, I've just never finished before..."

"You haven't had an orgasm before...?" he asks you quietly. You nod in shy affirmation, a new heat wave making itself apparent underneath your cheeks.

Peter nods in quiet understanding, the backs of his knuckles stroking your face in silent reassurance. He leans in, kissing you once more. You hum into the kiss, and you feel his soft tongue prodding the tip of your lips again. You feel another shot of arousal wet itself between your thighs as his tongue pushes into your mouth, bringing the kiss to that deep state of passion from before. You start making out with him again, the grip on his hair tightening as you feel him gently lower his body weight onto you.

He eventually pulls away, leaving a fresh trail of kisses down your neck, pausing once more to suckle on your perky tits, leaving your nipples hard and pointy in his wake. He worships your tummy, licking a stripe down the plush middle, pausing at the top of your sex where he draws a circle with his tongue, causing you to buck your hips.

"I could be your first..." He murmurs, inhaling deeply, his fingers curling around your hips as he looks up at you with his deep brown eyes. "I'll make you cum tonight..."

You let out a soft whine, stroking his cheek and he leans affectionately into your touch. "Peter..."

"Do you want that baby...hmmm?" He comes up closer to your face, caging your body underneath him as he looks lovingly down into your eyes. "Tell me you want it sweetheart, and I'll do that for you tonight."

He purrs, leaning down to pepper more messy kisses to your neck, leading you to whimper. "I want it...I want you, Peter..."

"Want me to what, pretty girl?" He murmurs from your neck. "I need to be sure you're okay with it, darling. Tell me what you want me to do to you tonight..."

"Make me cum..."

Peter's face gets hot. He brings his face from your neck, looking at you as he starts to slide down your body towards your pussy. "Okay, sweetheart...you got it."

He gives you another devilish smile as he locks his arms around your thighs, "It's okay, baby..." He presses a kiss to your clit, making you shudder with anticipation. "We don't wanna wake up your dad, remember?"

You nod, your fingers coming down to tangle themselves in his mop of sandy brown hair once again. "Peter..."

"I've got you, baby...I'll go nice and slow..."

Your back arches and your pretty lips fall open when you feel Peter's thick tongue massage the folds of your pussy. You feel him let out a low groan, his soft murmurs being swallowed up by the plushness of your thighs around his head.

He humps his aching cock against the sofa as he continues to eat your pussy, his tongue gliding up and down your lips for several more moments before he dips inside, exploring the velvet of your walls as he lets his tongue indulge, steadily fucking you, working his tongue in a steady rhythm as he prods it in and out of your weeping cunt. Your hands come to play with your tits for more stimulation, one of his hands coming up to join yours as he rolls your tender nipple between his fingers.

Never in your life did you think sex could feel this fucking good, the way he's so gloriously eating you out, not caring and groaning at the very sight of you, swallowing every drop of your pussy like it's water and he's a parched man in the desert, plunging his face into that sweet oasis between your thighs. You whimper and move your hips up and down in tandem with his tongue. He greedily digs his nails into the backs of your thighs and ass, shoving your pussy against his face as he buries himself nose deep.

"Mmm.... you're driving me crazy, sweetheart...might have to eat you all night."

Peter pulls away, he can feel himself about to cum in his pants. He lays back on the couch and takes you by the hand, guiding your dripping pussy over his equally glistening face, brown eyes blown wide with lust as he pulls you closer.

You bite your lip at the sexy sight of your arousal smeared all over his gorgeous face, lowering yourself onto him slowly, moaning when you feel his tongue moving inside you again, his hands seizing your hips, slamming you down onto his nose.

"That's better..." Peter groans and continues dining on your pussy, his hips humping the air, his fingers becoming more gentle as they press into your hips, rocking you on his tongue. Your mouth waters at the outline of his cock and you reach forward, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants, taking his hard cock out from his boxers, your eyes fluttering at its generous length and slightly pink tip, brimming with precum.

Peter chuckles from underneath you, "Mmmm, haha....baby, what are you-ah!"

He groans and lets his head flop back onto the pillow with his eyes shut when he feels you take him in your mouth, the slick inside of your cheeks caressing the length of his cock as you take him as deep as you can. He holds his breath, only releasing a long groan of pleasure as you begin bobbing your head, softly using your mouth as a fleshlight as you passionately suck him off.

"Baby....ah, baby....fuck..."

He groans loudly.

"Shh..." you coo sweetly, pressing sloppy kisses onto his sensitive tip. "Don't wanna wake him up, remember."

"Mmmnnhhh....." Peter groans loudly again, thrusting his cock a little deeper in your mouth. "Baby...you're perfect." He bites his lip, letting himself ride the wave of pleasure you're sending all throughout his body for another lengthy moment before he starts softly licking, then pushing his tongue back inside the soft plush of your pussy.

The room is a quiet, sloppy mess with gentle moans and playful shushes bouncing off the walls as you pleasure each other in the 69 position. This is by far the filthiest thing you've ever done. Fucking this sweet man who was older than you but treated you and ate you like a goddess. This tall, lean rugged man with a kind voice and big brown eyes. Your dad's friend, a stranger, letting the beautiful daughter of his new friend suck his cock in his living room while the house was asleep.

You clench your teeth, pausing from sucking Peter's cock as you feel yourself inching towards an unfamiliar, tingly feeling building on itself deep in your body.

The feeling is better than just good. It's surpassed good at this point. It's absolutely euphoric. The way this man is making you ride his face and wiggling his tongue against every spot inside of you that sets your core on fire.

"I'm gonna cum, Peter..."

A switch goes off in his brain and you feel him amp up the flicker of his tongue, this time directly over your tender clit, you clench and seize involuntarily but to no avail as his arms lock you over his face.

"Peter...Peter please..." You moans turn to pathetic to pleas but they fall on deaf ears. Peter continues drowning in your pussy, his wet tongue pressed against your clit, pressing and pulsing, prodding you closer to the edge you've never met, that sweet peak of ecstasy you've only heard and read about.

"Cum for me beautiful...all over my face..."

The blissful end Peter is bringing lovingly, rapidly to your whole body, a smug smile on his face as he watches your desperate reaction, fighting against every natural urge in your body to scream as you come undone. Peter closes his eyes with a loud groan as you cum all over his face, littering tiny kisses all over your thighs as he sucks each droplet onto his tongue.

---

Peter's cleaning himself up with a spare towel you fetched from the hall closet, not minding the simmering ache in his cock with all his bottled up cum, giving you that rugged, dimpled smile as you plant a soft kiss on his cheek in affectionate gratitude, his button down shirt now hanging off your body in a simple display of aftercare.

It would have to do for now. Had this little encounter occured at his place, he'd already have you in a warm bath, only to likely give in to his quieted inhibitions before he fucked you once more, your breathy squeals reverberating against his bathroom tile.

A soft thump from down the hall sends you both reeling, you become a basketball star on the spot as you aim and hurtle the cum rag through the air, launching it into your open bedroom door and onto your darkened bed, yanking the large blanket over both of you on the couch, gulping when you hear your dad's muffled footsteps getting increasingly louder, then tapering off as they disappear inside the bathroom with a noisy grunt.

Peter's hand finds yours underneath the blanket. The sheer comfort of his soft palm sending waves of warmth up your arm and across your chest. Peter looks over the edge of the couch to find your dad disappearing inside his room with a quiet latch of his door, pulling you against his chest once more, weaving little kisses into your hair.

"That was a close one..." you murmur, nuzzling a little closer against his bare chest.

He chuckles quietly. "Can't let him know I'm completely crazy about his pretty daughter..."

You giggle and bring his fingers to your lips, a quiet spark in his chest that threatens to fan into an uncontrolled burn once again as you softly kiss his fingertips, his lips gently parting as he purrs contentedly under your touch.

"You never fucked me like you said you would."

Peter smiles, biting his lip as he teases one of his fingers into your mouth. "I didn't, did I..."

You hum, swirling your tongue around his finger just like you were doing to his cock. Peter groans at the erotic memory.

"How about I take you on a real date first..."

"Really?" You smile, which he can't help but blush too at your excitement.

"Yes, really. As much as I'd like to go to your room and take you right now, I want our first time together to be special."

He gently toys with your lips, not removing his eyes from them in an intimate stare. "I'd want to have all the time in the world with you. No interruptions...no sneaky dads down the hallway..." He teases, to which your cheeks burn as you look away.

"Just all night with you and me, sweetheart. But only after I buy you whatever food your heart desires. Sounds good?"

Your smile nearly breaks your cheeks as you melt at his romantic proposition. "Sounds perfect to me," you answer softly.

"Good..." He flashes a dazzling smile back at you, cradling your face in his hands.

The heat from his skin pressed against your bare cheek deliberately makes your mind go fuzzy, your eyes seized by a delayed wave of tiredness as your body realizes the late hour.

Peter senses it too, doing his best to lay you back on the couch so you can sleep undisturbed but you pull him closer,

"Just a little longer, Peter?"

"Haha...awh, baby. If you say so. Just a little longer."

He hugs you close against his chest, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, fighting off sleep just a bit more so he can cuddle his new beautiful girlfriend while her dad stayed clueless in dreamland down the hall, trying to figure out what flowers he'd present you with at dinner, maybe a little bracelet or locket to go with it to mark you as his.

He sighs and strokes your shoulder but doesn't dare to close his eyes as he bids you quiet goodnight with a kiss on your sleeping lips, stealing a spare t-shirt from your dad from the laundry basket and his suit jacket off the coat rack on the way out. His white button down with his scent enveloping you in restful sleep on the couch.

----

@huniedeux @mrsoharaa @reverieblondie @slushycoookie @monarchberrysblog @gltzpzy I know you wanna read it Alicia lol 😁🤭

[fear-and-delight-l]

~Lazy Jellyfish Writings~

Welcome

REMINDER: UNDER 18 DNI AS MOST OF MY WORK IS NSFW. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME. PLEASE DON'T PLAGIARISE/TRANSLATE MY WORK. REBLOGS/RECOMMENDING MY WORK IS MUCH APPRECIATED. REPOSTING IS OKAY AS LONG AS YOU CREDIT ME PROPERLY. 😄 IF YOU GET INSPIRED BY SOMETHING OF MINE PRETTY PLEASE TAG ME IN IT BECAUSE I'D LOVE TO SEE IT.

🪼🖤

Hello! I'm Jellyfish! (Jelly or JJ are also welcomed)♎🇹🇴 I like to write for fun and started this blog in Nov 2023 thanks to my Miguel O'Hara fixation.

I love to gush/talk about him and I mainly write for him at the moment and for the unforeseeable future 🤧. I'm happy to become moots and love to support fellow writers. 🖤 I don't take requests at this time due to personal nerves about meeting expectations and also due to time constraints, I'm sorry!

Miguel O'Hara(Reader x Miguel)

Most of my reader POVS are fem or AFAB, sorry. Since I am a cis female that is the pov I feel I can write the most accurately. I try to exclude reader's appearance as much as possible except clothing. I describe curvy body parts. You might have superficial things like tattoos or piercings once in a while but that's it. I try to do gender neutral every once in a while where I can.) My rating system is my humble opinion & might not be totally correct, read at your own risk.

🌶️-suggestive 🌶️🌶️-moderate smut

🌶️🌶️🌶️-very smutty 💖-fluff 💔-angst 🔥-slow burn/smut doesn't happen right away

-DD series🌶️🌶️🌶️🔥💔💖 (ongoing-9 chapters/11-links for the chapters will be in each post, Miguel is your Uber Driver with a twist on the og Miguel O'Hara comic) DD series art I have commissioned from the artist @ejpuki on insta

-As you slept 🌶️💔💖(Twilight AU with Miguel Cullen. He visits you while you sleep, TW: STALKERISH)

-Have I found You?- 💔💖Twilight AU Miguel Cullen, inspired by ending prom scene of the first Twilight movie

-In Between the Bookshelves-💖🔥🌶️🌶️🌶️ Librarian!Miguel AU, a trip to the library has a spicy conclusion

-In a Vial around your pretty little neck 🌶️🌶️💖(you & Miguel wear vials of each other's blood)

-The Stuffed Rabbit- 🌶️💖you go to Build-A-Bear and plan a Valentine's Day surprise for Miguel(same universe as in a vial around your pretty little neck)

-With New Eyes, Every Time-🌶️💖 with Miguel about your date to the aquarium, inspired by one of my moots.

-Books and Puzzles -🌶️💖 Bookstore, coffee and puzzle building date with Miguel

-Miguel Parenting Headcanons🌶️💖 (two parts which are linked in the post)

-Mom and Dad are Fighting on Christmas🌶️🌶️💔💖 (Jerry Maguire inspired, angsty piece with Miguel) also a Valentines spinoff: Mom and Dad are Fighting on Valentine's Day 🌶️🌶️💔💖

-Blurred Lines -🌶️🌶️💔💖, (2 parts)you become his fwb reluctantly in hopes he'll eventually fall in love with you too, but it's not that simple.

-Relationship Weight🌶️🌶️💖soft Miguel reassuring insecure reader

-Bedtime Giggles- 💖short fluffy blurb with Mig

-Breakfast for dinner 💖🌶️-short fluffy blurb with Mig

-An Easter Proposal(s)-💖🌶️ 3 short separate stories about getting engaged to Miguel on Easter, based off 3 different rings to choose from.

-Fortune Cookies💖-fluffy blurb with Mig sharing takeout & fortune cookies

-I'm Here -💖🌶️fluffy blurb with Mig, helping you with your back pain, inspired by another Tumblr user.

-A Day Off At Miguel's💖 -longer fluffy blurb where your boyfriend cheats & Miguel's there to cheer you up.

-Gentleman 💖🌶️💔 -mini series where you're a broke college student intern at Alchemax and Miguel becomes your sugar daddy

-Long Distance 🌶️🌶️🌶️-naughty dialogue on the phone with him

-Silent - 🌶️🌶️💖 smutty short blurb exploring Miguel's quiet side in the bedroom

-Love Across Dimensions💖💔-fluffy angsty headcanon outline of your relationship. A spinoff from Long Distance. Along with smutty pt 2.🌶️🌶️🌶️💖💔

-Still and All -angsty, heavier piece(lots of TW in description). You have a lifelong STI and you need to tell Miguel when you start dating him. 🌶️🌶️💔💖🔥

-The Woman He Didn't Choose -mini series ongoing 5 chapters/?-angsty Bachelor AU where you made the final two but he chose the other woman. 🌶️🌶️💔🔥

-Traitor- angsty blurb about your breakup with Miguel inspired by some break up songs🌶️🌶️💔

-Just A Little Carried Away -NSFW Mig blurb 🌶️🌶️🌶️

-Mirror-NSFW Husband!Miguel short blurb 💖🌶️🌶️🌶️

-Possessive Miguel drabbles-links to both in this post. One is SFW the other is NSFW but more suggestive & no smut 💖🌶️

-Hand holding during sex-short NSFW Miguel thought🌶️🌶️🌶️💖

-Praise and a HJ-getting Miguel off while you praise him drabble🌶️🌶️🌶️💖

-Tell Me-hopeless romantic NSFW Miguel blurb where you tell him how much you love him during intimacy 🌶️🌶️🌶️💖

-In Your Name-NSFW Villain! Miguel drabble🌶️🌶️🌶️💖

-Apology-drabble, rainy, middle of the night makeup sex 🌶️🌶️🌶️💖

-One Cabin-🌶️🌶️💖(3 blurbs linked in the post) with Miguel playing on the one bed trope. Instead what if you had to share a cabin with him on a mission?

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Peter B. Parker x Reader

-DBF!Peter B. Parker comes to dinner -your dad's new friend from work comes over for dinner one evening with a spicy conclusion.🌶️🌶️🌶️💖

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Ben Reilly

Dating Headcanons-reader x Ben 🌶️💖

Traitor epilogue- Spider-Woman Reader x Ben 🌶️💖💔 this fic is technically a pairing with Miguel, however the epilogue has a happy ending with Ben after your breakup. 🫶🏽

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Carlisle Cullen

Random Headcanons 🌶️💖

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Gallery (art I've commissioned from artists to accompany my fics/just for fun)

Art by the amazing ejpuki on Instagram based on Part 1 of my Miguel series DD in which he meets you as your Uber Driver after a drunken night out, and your relationship grows based on the og Miguel O'Hara comic with a twist. Please check out ejpuki on insta and support 🖤

Art by the amazing ejpuki on Instagram based on Part 3 of my Miguel series DD in which he meets you as your Uber Driver after a drunken night out, and your relationship grows based on the og Miguel O'Hara comic with a twist. Please check out ejpuki on insta and support 🖤

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[fear-and-delight-l]

Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader

TW: Minors DNI, what plot??? smut(handjob, praise, cum eating, Miguel is kind of a sub in this one), mention of oral sex f receiving at end) words: a little over 700

A/N: someone take my phone 😫 just wanna make him feel loved while I- [REDACTED] anyway....I can't think of a title for this either 💀 NSFW under the cut

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Jerking off Miguel while you shower him in praise. You'll be sitting in his lap so you're above him like the goddess you are, running your fingers through his hair with one hand while you cup his pretty face with the other, letting him knead and massage your thumb with his warm tongue while he's moaning and groaning when he feels your aching pussy grind against his cock. 

"So pretty, baby...." You coo above him, letting your tits bounce in his face. 

"Mmm...." His eyes widen when he feels one of your hands grip his hard cock through his boxers. 

"Ah-Ah....baby..." He pleads, releasing your thumb and letting his head fall back, those beautiful rubies staring up at you. 

"Aww, my baby likes this?" You purr sweetly, giving him a little squeeze and a rub with your hand. 

"Mmmhhhnnn....cariño, porfa..." He babbles, eyebrows knitting together. 

"Shh, Shh...." you tease, slipping your thumb back into his mouth as you caress his cock with the other, adding a little roll of your hips. 

Miguel's eyelids flutter and he lets out a huge groan. 

"Mmmmm.... that's it. My boy...my pretty baby..." You tilt your head, eyelids half-lidded. "So handsome...." 

Miguel's lips twitch into a smile as he sucks your thumb again, cheeks turning a blooming red. 

"Mmm...you're so good baby. How'd I get so lucky with you, hmm? My beautiful, beautiful boy...." 

"Oh cariño please...." He pants, doing his best not to cum. "Please..." 

"Please what, baby?" You breathe out, pouting your lips. "Hmm...what do you want from me, sweetheart?" 

"I wanna cum...please let me cum..." 

You smile and lean in, giving him a deep kiss, grinning slyly when you feel him moan at your tongue in his mouth. "Go on, baby...cum for me..." 

"Ohhh cariño...ahh....shit..." He grabs you and presses little kisses onto the swells of your breasts then he lays his cheek against them, resting and holding you while he enjoys you rubbing his cock which you've now fully freed from his boxers. 

Your foreheads meet, he's whimpering, quietly panting, holding onto every sweet word about him that tumbles from your lips, getting drunk off the sound of your voice. 

"You're so sooo sexy when you're underneath me like this.." You emphasize each word by making each stroke of his cock drag a little slower with your soft palm. 

"Mmmm!" He groans. "You...are... unbelievable...." 

"I'm making my baby feel good?" You ask sweetly.

"So good..." He pants a little harder. "Keep talking like that....please, baby. N-need more..." 

"Aw...." You gently tug his hair back, making him look up at you while you continue rapidly stroking his cock with your other. "My handsome boy needs to be praised?" 

He nods desperately, damn near in tears from all the pleasure you're delivering from just your hand, the sight of his gorgeous girl above him spoiling his cock so beautifully. "Please, mi amor....?" 

"Oh baby..." You coo. "You're so good..." 

You start panting a little as you move your hand faster, his precum starting to seep from the tip. 

"You're absolutely perfect...." You kiss his neck, moaning directly into his ear.

"Such a beautiful face, mmmm....a beautiful mind. Mmmmm....my sweet baby works so hard *kiss* and he's, so, so smart..." 

You're driving him wild as you tilt your head, tracing his face softly with your finger as he sighs. 

"....mmmm those gorgeous red eyes....those full, perfect lips..." 

You kiss him. "Taste so sweet..." 

"Fuck I'm gonna....oh cariño..." He groans into your mouth. "I love you..." 

"Mmmm...I love you baby....you don't know how much I do....mmm..." You close your eyes as you lock in, trying to put off the ache in your hand so you can make your sweet boyfriend cum.

He shakes violently and your eyelids flutter as you watch his thick cum spurt all over your hand and fist, using it as lube to give him a couple more strokes as a little extra.

He breathes heavily, his mouth falling open and cock twitching again when he sees you slowlyyy bring your hand to your face, licking up his cum and dragging down your bottom lip, rolling your hips with a pretty smile on your face. 

"God I love you..." He groans.

-------

He spent like two hours eating you out and pulling orgasms out of you after that -

@hislastbimbogff 🖤🫶🏽

[fear-and-delight-l]

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

[fear-and-delight-l]

Dre's Master List

Shouta Aizawa

Drabbles

Dancing On My Own (fluff)

Katsuki Bakugou

One shots

A Warm Home (angst)

Miguel O’Hara

Drabbles/Mini Fics

Sympathy (angst/smut)

Cheated (angst)

Jealous (smut)

Mine (fluff/light smut)

In a bar (light smut)

Grabbing his boobs (fluff/funny ha ha)

Fangs (fluff/angst)

They Know (smut/funny ha ha)

Back Stage (smut)

Art Reference (heavy smut) Part Two (heavy smut)

Ex’s Dad!Miguel (heavy smut/slight angst)

Series: Hail to the King (in progress)

prologue

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9 (coming soon…)

Mini Series: Kitten Licks (finished)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Mini Series: Sister's Mister (finished)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Mini Series: Daddy Issues (finished)

Part 1

Part 2

Pregnancy Epilogue

Rule Number Two Ask

Dre Fear Playlist

Fanfics that are based off/inspired by specific songs

Miguel O’Hara

Heart Beat (nsfw / angst)

Distance -pt1 (light smut / heavy angst)

The Lonely -pt2 (heavy angst)

Nasty -pt1 (heavy smut)

Closer -pt2 (heavy smut)

Lightweight - pt1 (angst, smut, inspired by @ofherdesire )

I Hate U - pt 2 (angst, smut, inspired by @ofherdesire )

Karl Heisenberg

Reach For Me (angst)

Loki Laufeyson

Escapism (some smut)

Katsuki Bakugou

Tears Don't Fall (heavy angst)

Hizashi Yamada

Hopelessly Devoted To You (heavy angst / smut)

[fear-and-delight-l]

I CANT KEEP DOING YHIS BRO LOOK AT HIM

[fear-and-delight-l]

Portrait painting of a big romantic man with anger issues 😋🫠

[fear-and-delight-l]

[fear-and-delight-l]

Thinkin' abt DadBod!Miguel at the gym <3

You'd been going to the gym routinely, or at least trying to. You decided to go after working up the courage and convincing yourself that this was just for fun. That your body was your temple, and you were tending to it, no matter how it looked <3

The first week wasn't so bad. After embarrassingly tripping on equipment or accidentally dropping weights here and there, it was alright! Though at times, it was still difficult to stay consistent, until one day, you saw him.

Over on the other side of the gym, curling some dumbbells (100s, mind you), was a total 6-foot, thick, hairy dream of a man. You first noticed his chiseled face adorned by fine lines, locks of black hair framing it. With each draw of the weights, his biceps bulged. Beads of sweat trickled down his bulky chest and wide shoulders. When your eyes wander downward, you're surprised to not find washboard abs.

Oh no, what you find instead excites you even more than any pack of abs could offer you.

Your mouth waters slightly to find that his tank top has ridden up slightly over his hefty belly, graciously allowing a peek at a happy trail, its path sadly blocked by some basketball shorts (his cute bubble butt and giant dick print made up for it tho).

Despite his low, breathy grunts and intense crimson gaze towards his own reflection, he was making it look easy. You thought about how easy it'd probably be for him to carry you bride-style and throw you onto a bed before spreading your legs with those enormous hands so he could feast until your eyes crossed. Or how it'd be effortless for him to hold you tightly with your legs wrapped around that stocky midsection of his while he bullied his-

"'scuse me, you waiting for this bench?" a deep voice snaps you out of a daydream. You see the man is now looking at you with what looks like a knowing smirk. Fuck, he noticed you staring.

"Oh! N-no, was just looking for the 10s!" You blurt, evoking a velvety chuckle and dashing smile from him.

"Right over there." He motions with his chin toward the weight rack where the 10s are obviously displayed. After you thanked him, He smiled and nodded back to you, turning back toward the mirror to do his last set.

The second week felt like no problem. Instead of dragging yourself to the gym, you looked forward to it, scanning for your new gym crush every time you entered.

You'd feel a lil surge of happiness when you do find him there, feeling brave enough to exchange smiles and sometimes even little waves from across the gym. One time, the older man made you swoon when he winked at you upon entering the gym. After seeing your cute reaction, this would be how he greeted you every time.

The third week came You're at the squat rack, feeling stronger than usual, so you opt to go the heaviest you've ever gone. Big mistake. By the third rep, you fail to get back up, panicking and legs shaking. Just when you feel yourself start to fall, you see a pair of hands dart toward the bar from behind you, lifting it with ease and allowing you to stand back up. The bar is re-racked and you turn to find gym bae.

"You okay?" he gently prompts, a worried look on his face.

"Yes, thank you... think I might've gone too heavy." you nervously chuckle. He does as well, seeing that you're alright.

"Next time you go for a PR, you need to ask for a spotter, hun." He gives you that dashing smile again, his hands on his love handles.

"Yeah, I probably should've," you lower your head in defeat, "I didn't bring anyone with me though."

"You could've asked me," He says matter of factly as if it should've been obvious that he should be the one to spot you. "I would've done it with no problem, mama." His pet names make your womanhood pulse.

You look back up at him, your lips curled into a shy smile.

"C'mon, let's try again." "No, no, mama, I got that, I'll put it away for you." "Keep your knees like this-theeeere you go. "Gimme one more, mama, just one more, you can do it." "Atta girl! Good job, mamita."

You learned that his name is Miguel. He'd become your designated spotter on leg days, the sensation of his larger frame against yours making you nervous in the best way.

Your favorite is when his tummy accidentally brushes against your back, and borderline, your ass, and if not his tummy, it'd be his prominent bulge (which isn't there bc he gets to spot the adorable girl with an amazing ass from the gym... totally not that).

On the Fourth week, Miguel would ask you if you wanted to be workout buddies altogether. Of course, you accept, in which he asks for your number so like that, he can text you when he's going and vice versa.

It's the fifth week, and you both have worked out together a couple times already. Miguel texted you in the morning asking if you'd like to join him, which you were totally down for.

You two started with lateral pull-downs. Once it was your turn, you sat on the machine and reached for the handle, pulling it as you began your set.

Anytime you felt like you wanted advice or correction, Miguel eagerly helped you.

His hands would stay on your waist, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Mhm, there you go, you're doin' so good, mama." He praises in almost a whisper.

If only he knew he was making the exercise only harder. As if that weren't enough, his finger would occasionally message your hip. Your bodies were so close that you were able to hear each satisfied hum from his lips, suggesting you were doing the exercise right.

"Good girl, that was better. You feel it now?" He says, letting go to let you off the machine.

"Yeah, thank you! When it comes to upper body, I'll need all the help I can get. I'm just glad I’m getting it from an upper-body master." You flirtatiously add, playfully poking at one of his biceps.

This makes him blush, but only for a moment before he returns with a cocky response, "Thanks, hun. I'm glad to be working out with a leg-day goddess."

Now it was your turn to blush, except you didn't have any smart comeback, boosting Miguel's ego.

"Listen, let me treat you to smoothie after this, yeah?" He says it more like a statement than a request, and you happily oblige.

What you were expecting was a simple, cheap smoothie from a spot you usually go to, but instead, you're met with a drive-thru menu listing shakes from $20 and up. Oh he got moneyyyy.

Miguel tells you to pick any that looks good to you. He orders for himself and you as well, parking the car once the two of you get the smoothies.

As he sips from the cup, you take the opportunity to subtly glance at his figure, his muscles, how his pecs sit beautifully on top of his soft belly, his thighs constrained by the confines of his gym shorts. You think how badly you wanna sit there, grinding on the print 'til there was a wet spot-

"Something on your mind, mama?" You look back at him, taking a few seconds to register his words.

You hastily look back down at your drink and shake your head, “Nothing… thank you so much for this, it’s delicious!”

then he grabs the shoulder of your chair to lean toward you, “Of course, mama, but I don’t think you’re being completely truthful with me, hm?”

You look at him, playfully shaking your head again, knowing full well you’ve been caught.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, hm? dime.” He puts the smoothie into the cup holder to free his other hand, placing it on your thigh, and softly squeezes it. “Just say the word, and you’ll get anything you want.”

Your lips curl slyly as you think of a response.

“Well… we never did cardio.”

Now you were here in his car, being bounced on his fat dick on the passenger seat, holding onto his his big shoulders for dear life. You were basically his fleshlight at this point… with those big hands.

You could feel his body now taut against yours, your tits bouncing relentlessly, his muscled, thick thighs below your ass, his balls slapping against your pussy lips, his bush tickling your clit, his pelvis pushing your ass up and his curved belly against your front side. It all was sending you into euphoria.

With you vigorously bouncing on his cock and his beautiful moaning, you fully let go. “Aw yes, Daddy,“ you mumbled without thinking.

In fact, you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was this fat cock and your pussy was memorizing all its veins and curves.

“Mmfuck baby, yea, say that again f’me”, he groaned through gritted teeth as he mercilessly bounced you down his painfully hard shaft.

“Please, Daddy, please!” You whined with your hands desperately seeking support on his big shoulders.

You can feel the sheet of sweat on his belly and on his thighs, which turned the smacking of your ass sound even more lewd.

“Fuck, say it again.” He growled, getting faster now.

“Mmmm, Daddy— Daddy, pleaseeee.”

“Louder, baby, c’mon—“

“UNGH DADDYYYY”

“Oh FUCK… you wanted cardio, baby, I’ll give you cardio… fuckin’ take it… coño.” Your panting became synchronized with every pound of his cock into your abused and bruised cunt, getting higher and higher in pitch, firing him up to go faster and harder.

“Gonna cum on this fat cock, right? Gonna cum f’me, mami?” He ordered, dropping octaves from his usual gentle tone with you.

“Mmmnn, Nnyesyyesyesyes—“ you babbled, the shakiness of your voice the result of the aggressive bouncing.

“Ah… carajo…” his cock accidentally slips out from your cunt, making you wince from the sudden empty sensation, “ungh!”

Holding up your ass, he takes a moment to admire the view, hissing from the sight of his angrily red cock and veins pulsing from your cunt sucking him in so deliciously. A ring of your cream erotically placed at the base of his length, just above his perfect bush. He guides his fat tip back to your dripping cunt using his thumb, pushing it back into your swollen folds.

He was back to ramming into your abused cunt in no time, chasing each others high’s.

“C’mon…fuck, c’mon, mama, you’re almost there…. Aw f-fuck… almost there…” he moans with his brows knitted and through a clenched jaw.

“Daddy I’m g’na— I’m cummingimcummingimcumming—“

“Aw, fuck, asi— asi mami— ah, ah…” Miguel holds back choked whines as he get closer, not allowing himself to let go until he knew you came first.

You speak in gibberish before crying into your climax, Miguel letting out a long, exasperated groan when he reaches his. You can feel his hot cum overfilling you, making you whine as it leaks down your thigh.

After draining himself completely, making sure every drop was in you, he gently pulls out, “Fuck… you did so good for me, mama… so good.”

Miguel lets you rest against his heaving chest and soft belly, rubbing your back as you caught your breath. You smiled a tired smile when you notice how hard Miguel is breathing as well, knowing you worked him out, too.

“You ok, mamita?” He plants a tender kiss on your shoulder, making a trail up your neck and finally to your forehead.

“Mhm,” you hum, you look up at him and are met with his plump, wet lips, tongues becoming entangled with each other as he groans into your mouth.

“I say… we do cardio like this every day.”

A/n: Haiii, I hope u liked it <3 Love my man sm <3 None of my gym baes could ever compare to himmmmm😭😭😭

@angel-of-the-moons Ty Ty Ty my luv for planting the seed in my head <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

[fear-and-delight-l]

Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3

pt. 6

The semester is almost over, and finals are just around the corner. Miguel and you had been tutoring students for test prep. Your help was greatly appreciated by Miguel, cutting his work basically in half, and he sees that you were good at it, too. It seems that paying attention in his class the whole year paid off. Granted, Miguel was fine as hell, so you never wanted to miss class.

You had to be honest, though, when you volunteered yourself to be Miguel’s little TA, you didn’t think it’d be this difficult. Is this what Miguel went through? For five years? Damn. Poor baby probably hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since he started this job. You didn’t know how he did it, and it’s only been your third day of tutoring. 

Not to mention that some students were, and you hate to admit it… incompetent. There were moments where you had to refrain from making certain faces toward students who acted like they hadn’t been to a single class of Miguel’s. But because you were so kind and patient, you sat with those few and made sure they left that hour feeling prepared for their final. Now you understood why Miguel’s temper was a bit short. Yours would be too if you had to deal with students who never put in any effort. Of course, some classmates also knew as much as you did, only needing the sessions for review.

Aside from tutoring, you and Miguel’s relationship was evolving. Your heated kiss in the lecture hall has been on Miguel’s mind non-stop, replaying the scene over and over again as a bedtime story for the past week. He couldn’t believe that his dreams were coming true. You had him whipped. That one kiss was what broke the dam, and now, Miguel was unleashing kisses on you. He’d sneak one in at every opportunity he had. Every little interaction would go something like this:

Say you were on your way to a session with a classmate, it’s early in the morning, the hall is empty, and no one is around other than Miguel who you consequently pass by as he leaves his private office. The scowl on his face immediately softens when he sees you, all done up pretty like always.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He still sounds as if he’s just woken up, his velvety timbre filling the quiet hall. It felt like you were Juliet and he was Romeo, forbidden lovers meeting in secret.

“Oh! Professor O’Hara-“A small squeal leaves your lips when he pulls you into his embrace, his brawny arms enveloping you completely. You giggle into his chest, your hands snaking up his soft belly and around toward his back, where they almost touch. “Calmate, mama, no one’s around,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a sweet kiss there. You breathe in and smell a manly musk from the fabric of his turtleneck. You had to lift your head from his chest or else Miguel would not stop kissing you all over. It was like there was no ‘off’ button, there was only ‘on’ when it came to you,

“Miguel, I’m already running late, they’re waiting for me!” You loudly whisper, only half-trying to push him away since he felt so warm and soft, but you really did need to go.

“Lo siento, mamita, but how can I resist when you look like this? Can you blame a guy?” He steps back and raises your hand to twirl you like a princess. You smiled bashfully, your cheeks going red. He was so corny and he knew it, slightly cringing at his own effort to be “cool”. It made you laugh because he would NEVER act this way in front of anyone. Anyone except you. He smiled, laughed, and made cheesy remarks only for you. God, you needed this grumpy dork. 

“Migggg, stop it, I really need to go!” You softly laugh, covering your cheesy smile.

“Nunca, preciosa,” His voice is low when he pulls you back in, “But alright… how ‘bout a kiss before you go?” and with a smile, you get on your tip toes, and Miguel lifts you into a tender kiss, and when he kisses you, he breathes you in. It’s like you’re his life supply when he kisses you.

Just when you thought the kiss was over and you were about to be on your way, he didn’t let go of your hand. You look back, and you’re met with those damned puppy dog eyes, “Wait, one more? Please?” He was so pathetic, but how could you tell him no? Of course, you wouldn’t, so you come back and give him another deep kiss.

Once you two pull away, his forehead remains on yours and he whispers, “Otra mas? Porfa?” He coos. “I thought you said one more?” You teased his adorable pleading, but you took his chin with both hands and kissed him anyway. 

Two more kisses turned to three, four, five, six… and Miguel wouldn’t stop; “One more?”, “Okay, now one more.”, “Another one.”, “Otro besito…”, “no, not yet, one more, one more”, “mkay, last one.”, “wait wait wait, one more…” and the two of you broke into soft laughs as he kept asking for more kisses, you slowly trying to pull away as you were passed late now. With each step back you took, Miguel would step closer, keeping your body against his with his bulky arms. The once silent hallway was now filled with quiet, giddy laughter as Miguel attacked you with pecks. There was something so innocent about it all, the harmony between your high-pitched giggles and his low chuckles, accompanied by the continuous smacking of his lips on yours in a peaceful, early morning within the high-ceiling school walls.

“Miguel O’Hara, please!” You snap at him, still in a whisper, but you both just laugh. “Okay, okay, fine,” he finally lets go of you, watching you leave with a content smile,” I’ll see you later? Don’t leave without passing by, please,” you smile back at the buff nerd and his concern for you. “I will! I promise!” You scurry down the hall to meet with the student who’s probably wondering where you’ve been. Miguel doesn’t step back into his office until you’re out of sight, his mind still a little foggy from the interaction. 

If someone had told him at the beginning of the year that the grad student who always showed up in the cutest outfits, sat front row, and always gave him the prettiest, lip glossed smile would requite his feelings, he would laugh at their face (or simply just stare menacingly at them, more like). When he chose to settle down and take this job, he would’ve never thought he’d find you. You were that something he didn’t know he needed.

<3 

   You might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. By fault of your sweet nature, you decided to take in a few extra students, which left you in the library hours later, your forehead on your forearm, a bit of drool pooling on the table, and snoring.  Miguel had been doing some tutoring as well, though, he finished earlier than you and started doing some other collegiate duties. It was unknown to him that you did this, so he thought it was strange when you didn’t come by for that long. He knew you wouldn’t have left without saying anything, so he began to grow worried as hours went by. He made his way down to the lecture hall, but there was no sign of you there. He immediately started thinking the worst, a million different horrid explanations running through his mind as he picked up his pace through the hallway.

His heart eased when he saw your sleeping form in the library, the only light coming from the aged lamps on each of the tables, but the relief is short-lived once he realizes how long you’ve been working and how tired you must’ve been to fall asleep sitting like that. Making sure to be quiet as there were still two or three other students there, Miguel walked towards you, faintly smiling at your snoring.  

“Mama… Mamita…” he whispers, nudging your back gently, waking you up. Your eyes, blinking continuously, adjust to the dim lighting of the library and you make out the large figure beside you. It’s your sweet, darling professor.

“Mph… huh?” you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a yawn, “Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you say with a tired chuckle, your eyes still adjusting. 

“Mama, what are you apologizing for? Ugh, I should’ve come to check on you sooner.” He sat beside you, but then one of the students quickly hushed him, giving him a dirty look for interrupting their study sesh. He raised his hand mouthing ‘sorry’.  

"Did you need something?" you softly asked him, not wanting to be hushed as well, and he just replied by intertwining his long, girthy fingers with yours under the table where no one could see. "Nothing, mamita, however, I need you to go home. You weren’t supposed to stay so late.” He tuts, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles like he always did. He already didn’t like that you were tutoring on top of your own schoolwork, the only reason why he let you help in the first place being that you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Oh, Miguel, always worrying about everyone but yourse-” You were cut off by another hush by the same irritated student. You both looked back at them, Miguel looking back with a scowl this time. He looked like he was about to say something, but you pulled away his attention with a sheepish smile, “Maybe we should go talk somewhere else.” You whisper. Taking your advice, he stood with you and followed you to a more private section of the library.

Settling in a small nook area where the two of you are surrounded by shelves of books, you sat on the floor, Miguel following shortly after. “So, care to explain why you’re still here?” He speaks while finding a comfortable position. 

You both lay against the shelf, your head tilted upward as you respond, “I just figured I could help a couple more students, is all. I guess it was after I finished with the last student and started studying for my other classes was when I knocked out.” Miguel lifts his arm so that he can wrap it around you, offering a cushion between you and the hardwood of the shelves. 

“Do you ever not study?” he raises a brow, but you’re quick to retaliate, “Do you ever not work?” You both chuckle. “Touché.”

“How do you do it?” you ask. 

“What do you mean?” You lay your head on his shoulder. “You basically run this entire department on your own. All I’ve done was tutor for a couple of days and look where that got me.”  Miguel chuckles at this. “I know sometimes it may not seem like it, but in all honesty, I love what I do, and you’ve gotta give yourself more credit than that, mama. You’ve truly been amazing, sweetheart. Always have been.”

“Well,” you snuggle into him a little more, relishing in his natural warmth that rivals the library’s cold air, “You helped.” Miguel returns the gesture by wrapping his arm tighter around you, sensing that you are becoming cold. “We helped each other, how ‘bout that.” you look up and smile at him, your cheek against the soft fabric of his cable-knit sweater (that fits juuust right on him). 

“Speaking of which, what’s this class you’re studying for?” you sit up straight and let out a tired sigh. “It’s another lecture,” you grab a hefty textbook from your bag beside you, letting Miguel take a look at it, “On top of creating a thesis, I have to memorize all of this.” He looks through his glasses that are hanging low on his nose and skims over the material.  

“How much of this have you memorized?” he still looks at the pages. “About half maybe.”

“Let’s fix that.” he sat up straight, positioning the book to where you can’t see its contents. “What’re you doing?” you’re suspicious of Miguel, knowing very well that he should be going home and not staying to help you study for a class that he didn’t even teach.

“I’m helping,” he clears his throat, “Which years did the ‘Modernist’ era in English literature begin and end? Please provide a short explanation of what catalyzed this period-” You ignore his question, attempting to take the book. “Miguel, you’ve done enough for today, you should be going home!” but he doesn’t let you have it.

“Mama, I just found you dead asleep while sitting up. You were gonna stay either way. I’d much rather be here so you don’t pass out again n’ make sure you get home safe. Please?” 

He’s literally the most perfect man ever. The person currently sitting in front of you just left his office doing whatever important task he usually occupies himself with to check up on you and is willing to stay here until you feel ready for your final. You’re convinced he’d do anything for you, and you’re right in thinking so. 

“Fine,” You’re beginning to realize how hard it actually is to say ‘no’ to Miguel, but you know Miguel was a bit of a pushover when it came to you as well, so you guess it’s alright, “But I feel like there should be some sort of incentive, though… some motivation.” you cheekily smile.

Miguel’s eyes shift above his lenses, intrigued by your proposition. “How ‘bout this. Every time I get something wrong… you get a kiss.” He chuckles. “Alright, and I’m guessing if you get it correct, then I should reward you with a kiss, right?” he says matter-of-factly, making you smile again. You were hoping he’d suggest something like this. 

He’d ask a question, you’d answer, and depending on if you got it right, Miguel would give you a kiss, or if you got it wrong, you “had” to give him a kiss (not much of a punishment, to be frank). You didn’t even wait for him to finish asking you a test question at times, you would just give him a tender kiss on the cheek just because. Some kisses, though, Miguel would get distracted, taking it from an innocent peck to a heated, handsy kiss, and reluctantly, you’d get him back on the task at hand. It got to the point where you ended up seated between his legs, and you'd start getting all these answers correct, so Miguel would plant kisses on your neck, sucking on the skin there. They would surely leave hickeys for the next day, but you didn’t care.

With your back against his hard chest and tummy, it was very hard to not delve into both of your fantasies. It was when Miguel began faintly bucking his hips against yours, his hardness expanding as he got blinded by lust again. "Miguel! Not here!” you'd whisper, and Miguel would groan in defeat. Trust, if you two weren’t in public, you would’ve let him do anything and everything he was thinking about doing to you.

That, having to stay quiet, and making sure no one was coming, it all made it feel like you were both teenagers again who were out later than they should be, laughing and shushing each other. 

The incentive being kisses actually worked in the sense that it kept you up, so not only was it an excuse to make out in the library, but it did technically help you memorize…

An hour or so passes by and you’ve gotten to the point where you know everything you need to for your final, but you didn’t want your time with Miguel to quite just end yet. You don’t know if it was the making out or what but you were suddenly wide awake now.

Miguel is about to test you on a topic one more time when he sees your eyes wandering the shelves, “You like to read, Mig? Just curious.” You look up at him. You were too tired to care whether or not you looked presentable enough for him, but he thought you looked absolutely adorable like this. Your hair lost its volume, your lip gloss was no longer shiny, and your mascara was a bit smudged from when you fell asleep earlier, but he found it so endearing. He wouldn’t have minded waking up to the sight every day for the rest of his life.

He closes the textbook, taking this as your way of ending the study session, “Yeah, I like it. I’ll read recreationally when I have the time.” He chuckled, looking at you like you were the only source of light on the planet. You shifted your head from where it rested against his arm and laid down on the floor, your head now resting against his soft stomach like a pillow. Your gaze focused on his hand that was now in yours. Your soft touch brushes against his more calloused, warm skin, playing with his fingers as you speak.

“What do you like to read? Fiction? Non-fiction? Give me details.” You continue to fiddle with his fingers. 

He starts to play with your hair with his free hand, moving any on your face, “Hm… I tend to gravitate toward non-fiction. You?"

"Anything romantic for sure," it doesn't take you even a second to answer, "Ever since I was a little girl, I always envisioned myself in those fairytale stories. Princesses, royal balls, a prince charming..." your eyes glanced up at him when you mentioned princes, and his smile grew.

"Oh, yeah?" He smirked, his brow raised. "Mhm. I kinda feel like I’m in one right now, actually.” His cheeks darken at this, licking his lips as he looks away to hide them. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome your smile is?” You add on, making him melt furthermore. He honestly can’t believe you’re saying all this about him. Miguel was usually the man that always knew what to say, but romance? Not his field of expertise, and much less when it came to you.

“Not really, no. Don’t show it much these days.” He looks back down at you, completely smitten by the angel currently lying in his lap.

“Well you should do it more often, it looks nice on you.” You’re not sure what came over you. It was so easy to praise him and watch him become goo from your words and touch.

“Then maybe I should spend more time with you.” Now it was your turn to be bashful. “I make you smile, huh?”

“Quite frequently in fact. It’s ruining my reputation, makin’ me go soft.” You chuckle along with him. “Just face it, you’re my big, scary teddy bear.” Miguel’s heart skips when you say ‘my’. As much as his past self would’ve hated being called that, he loved the possessiveness in it. He was truly yours, since the beginning. “Only if you’ll be the princess I protect.” You smile like an idiot. You hated him (you wanted him so bad).

“This actually reminds me of a certain story...” He ponders on a specific story, one that brings old memories. A faint smile grows on his plush lips.

“Oh, yeah? Mystery, sci-fi, romance…?” you say romance with a badly executed French accent, making him chuckle, “Eh… maybe it’s a romance…” He says with a growing smile. 

“Awe, I knew it, ya big softy. Which one?” You two began discussing your favorite romantic books. Turns out Miguel is a bit of a hopeless romantic himself, though, he’d never reveal that to anyone. You feel compelled to get up and search for your favorite book from the shelves surrounding you, which you both end up doing. Once you’ve found y’all’s respective books, you both return to the same position on the floor, but Miguel’s mood makes a shift. There’s a moment when Miguel’s spirit seems to die down, and you catch it. He looks down at the book with somber eyes. He flips through its pages, his brows furrowed and eyes narrow. “You alright, Miguel?” 

Miguel clears his throat. “I’m fine. Um...” He thinks about what he’s about to say and whether he should even share it. There’s a beat between the two of you. 

“What’re you thinking about?” You can see the gears in his head turn. 

“Nada, mamita, I’m fine.” He lies. He looks at you with a weak smile, but his eyes say differently.

“Anything you have to say is important to me.” You give his hand a small squeeze. “Please?” 

He squeezes back your hand and kisses your wrist. Miguel then worked up the courage to share something he hadn’t told anyone in what felt like years. Sure, his two closest coworkers knew about it, but that’s about it. Miguel didn’t have many, if at all, true friends outside of his work, but he felt you could be trusted. He felt that comfortable with you. Your softness tore down his tough walls. 

You learn that he had a daughter. Her name was Gabriella. He mentions how much she loved playing sports, being outside in the park, and how much she loved it when he read to her. The book currently in his hand was what she would pick almost every night. He’d read it in different voices for each character, making the story come alive for his precious little girl. No matter how many times he read it to her, she listened as if it were the first time. Seeing the little smile on her face made all the fatigue from work melt away. That’s why he chose it as his favorite book. 

He lost Gabriella to what he described as an ‘incident’, but you didn’t urge him to say anything more than what he was comfortable with, respecting his boundaries. 

“Sometimes, I’ll come back to this book and it almost feels like she’s here again.” He opens the book to the first page. Its cover and spine were intricate, the title reading ‘Beauty and The Beast’. 

He branched away from the book for a moment and began to go on and on about what Gabriella was like upon your request to know a little more about her, and instantly, his mood lifted. He speaks about her kindness, intelligence, curiosity, and her extensive imagination. He spoke about her favorite foods (sweets, of course) and even the foods she wasn’t a big fan of. He talked about their post-soccer game rituals of getting ice cream and how they would spend their mornings together eating their favorite cereal before school. With the way he spoke about her, a ball started to form in your throat. It was evident that he loved being a dad. You didn't think you could fall for Miguel harder than you already did until now.

Maybe that was why he was so hard on everyone in his class; maybe it was simply the paternal want to see your pupils do their absolute best and succeed. It made you sad because this meant that not only has Miguel been alone for all these years, but he’s been alone on account of losing someone he loved so dearly. His precious daughter. And to you, that’s even worse.

You wanted to say how sorry you were for his loss, but you figured he’d heard that millions of times. You wanted to say something that actually meant something. 

“Gabriella sounds like a wonderful person,” You say with a small smile. Miguel looks at you, not really expecting a response like that, “And If you were the one raising her, then I know for sure she was absolutely wonderful.” 

“She was. Thank you.” Miguel looks down at you, you both sharing a quiet moment. “She would’ve really liked you.” He says softly, looking down at his lap where you were. His thumb caresses your cheek, making you smile even wider.

“Yeah?” You try to hold back any tears. This had to be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you. “Yeah.” 

The moment is so sweet and so soft and it felt so nice to be able to just relish in the small silences with him. And when you spoke, your voices were barely above whispers. “She would’ve thought you were a real-life princess for sure. I know I do.” You blush at this, Miguel’s hand on your face only adding more heat to your rosy cheeks. 

“Well, I think I would’ve really liked her, too. I wish we could’ve met.” You place your hand on top of his. Despite you also feeling saddened by this, there’s still a sense of gentle positivity in your voice.

“Me too.” Miguel’s face softens at your response, scenarios playing in his head. Moments between you and his daughter. What life could’ve been like had his daughter still been here to interrogate you as soon as she had the chance, and then just as quickly become your #1 fan. He’s quiet when he’s thinking about this, and you feel the urge to hug him. 

You sit up from his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, Miguel’s face buried into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his head. You rub his back with your other hand, feeling his breathing deepen.

Miguel lifts his head to look straight at you as if to admire you, “Thanks for listening.” You can’t help but pepper kisses all over his face: forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, and Miguel feels like he’s in heaven. At last, he takes your face in both hands and kisses you on the lips. No other dialogue needed, the two of you sit in peaceful silence again, literally just appreciating each other’s existence. The moment is interrupted by the opening of a door in the distance. Surely a night-time guard.

 “Y’know… we can get in an awful lot of trouble if we’re seen together like this.” You break the silence with a whisper. The teenage-like ambiance returns, winning a smirk from Miguel. “I know. I guess I just can’t bring myself to care right now.” His eyes trail all over your face, landing on your lips. He kisses you again, his lips descending to your neck and his hands squeezing the flesh of your butt. Ticklish and breathless, you begin giggling, ‘Miguel!” but he doesn’t stop, “Miguel O’Hara! What if they see us!” you whisper. 

“Mm, like it when you say my full name.” he muffles into your neck. “Miguel!” you laugh again, trying to push him off. “Take me home! We have class tomorrow!” is what finally stops him. He may or may not have let the heat of the moment get the best of him. “Yeah,” He runs his hand through his hair and fixes his glasses, “You’re right, you’re right.” He stands up, offering you a hand. Without making it look suspicious, you both walk past the guard as well as a few students (who were either passed out or too deep in their downward spiral of an all-nighter). 

Miguel drives you home in something you didn’t expect a college professor would be able to afford. He had his hand on your thigh the whole way, but not before he asked if that was okay, to which you happily granted. The entire car ride, Miguel had you smiling, blushing, laughing at his dated jokes. You were so sad when he pulled up to your place, still not wanting the night to end even though you were tired out of your mind. 

“Thank you for taking me home, my knight in shining armor.” You lean over, puckering your lips as you wait for a kiss. “Of course, Princesa, anything for you.” You both share probably the billionth kiss of the day before he speaks again. “See you tomorrow bright n’ early?” you nod, letting out a soft ‘yeah’. “Alright, get some rest, beautiful. And don’t be late.” he playfully enters professor mode for the last sentence, and you play along. “Of course, Professor O’Hara. Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Miguel kisses you again and bites your lip, the tension rising once again. “Mm, that’s one you haven’t called me in a while.” You giggle from how easy it is for you to excite Miguel, your absolute loser of a professor, but he’s your loser, and that’s all that matters. You feel his hand snake to your inner thigh, his tongue making its way down your throat, “Mm—Don’t get any ideas, mister, you should head home and get your sleep as well.” He lets out a defeated huff, “ay, Mamita, can’t keep doing that t’me…”

As much as you also wanted to be there with him, having him bounce you on his lap or taking it in the backseat, you also didn’t want for Miguel or yourself to miss class the next morning. Miguel agrees, sharing the very last, tender kiss of the night before finally saying goodnight to each other. You close the car door behind you and say one last thing through the window, “We should do this again. It was nice.” Miguel smiles at you, promising you he’ll take you to the public library one of these days. 

In exchange for more kisses, that is. Or perhaps more.

a/n: Haiiiiii, I hope you enjoyed <3 He's so cute n needy ur honor!! He simply just wants to be held!! I have 5k ish words to prove it!!! (So sorry omfg)

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my masterlist, bae! <3

<3 Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi i @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu @mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @love4saturn

[fear-and-delight-l]

Fic Masterlist

Here's my fanfiction Masterlist! Read all warnings for each fic please.

Buy Me a Coffee 💜

🥵 = Smut

😬 = Angst

🥰 = Fluff

The Sandman

Morpheus Am I Dreaming? (🥵🥰😬) Let Me Remind You (🥵🥰😬) My Hope (🥰😬) Endless Rapture (🥵😬) Dream's Desire (🥵🥰😬) Need (🥵🥰)

Marvel

Bucky Barnes Unrequited Love (🥵) Give Me What I Want (🥵) How Could I Not? (🥵🥰😬) The Birthday (🥵) If Only (😬🥵) I've Made Mistakes (🥵😬🥰) One More (🥵) Hello Gorgeous (🥵😬) We Were Never Just Friends (🥵😬🥰) I Thought It Was Gonna Be Me (🥵😬🥰) Turning Tables (🥵) Life Finds a Way (😬🥰) Not Afraid to Love You (😬🥵) Love Marks (🥵🥰) I Was Thinking Maybe, Eight? (🥵😬) Why Wait? (🥵😬) Your Past Is Not Our Future (🥵😬) Before I Knew What Love Was (🥵🥰😬) The Wink (🥵) From Past to Future (🥵😬) DBF!Bucky Series: Aged to Perfection (🥵) My Forever (🥵🥰😬)

BBF!Bucky Series: Save Me From Myself (🥰😬) I've Got You (🥰😬) My Whole Heart (🥵)

Steve Rogers Bring Me Back to Life (🥵😬) Thor Goddess of Thunder (🥵)

Supernatural

Dean Winchester She's My Siren (🥵🥰) This Isn't Real (🥵😬🥰) Not Yours to Take (😬🥰) Spell Bound (🥵🥰) Changed (🥵😬🥰) Truth Serum (🥵🥰) Take Your Time (😬🥰) What I'd Give (🥵😬🥰) Unattached Drifter Christmas (🥵🥰) Not Good Enough (🥵😬🥰) My Past, My Present, My Future (🥵😬🥰)

TVD/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson The Original and The Anthropologist (🥵😬🥰) All My Life (🥰😬)

Riverdale

FP Jones The Serpent Queen (🥵) Remember Me Series Part One Part Two

NCIS

Jethro Gibbs Can't Wait (🥰)

Law and Order: SVU

Elliot Stabler If I Had to Choose...I'd Choose You (🥵😬🥰) The Connection (🥵😬🥰) That's Not What I See (🥵🥰) Love is Never Easy (🥵😬🥰)

Rafael Barba Still Perfect (🥵😬🥰) Better Together (🥵😬🥰)

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner Undercover (🥵😬🥰) Never Do That Again (🥵😬🥰) I Can't Lose You Series Part One (😬🥰) Part Two (😬) Part Three (😬🥰) Part Four (🥵😬🥰) Part Five (Coming Soon!)

Luke Alvez Don't Take The Girl (🥵😬🥰)

RPF

Henry Cavill Just You Wait (🥵🥰) My Favorite Cardio (🥵)

Chris Evans Fake It Til You Make it (🥵😬🥰) If I Love You Too Much, I'm Sorry (🥵🥰)

Buy Me a Coffee 💜

[fear-and-delight-l]

If I Had to Choose...I'd Choose You

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x Reader

Summary: You meet Stabler when you join the SVU team. He's single, attractive, sweet...only problem is you work together, and you don't date at work.

Warnings: Mentions of rape, descriptions of violence and torture. Reader has scars described in detail. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V).

A/N: Kathy doesn't exist in this fic.

"Hey everyone, gather 'round," Cragen called.

Detectives Stabler, Benson, Munch, and Tutuola circled around the Captain.

Cragen gestured to the new girl beside him: you. "Guys, this is Detective (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She's joining the squad."

You smiled at them. "I'm happy to be here and can't wait to get started."

Everyone introduced themselves and Cragen pointed to your new desk behind directly behind Detective Stabler. You threw your stuff down onto the desk and started to settle in.

Elliot Stabler sat on the edge of the desk and leaned in towards you. "So what brings you to SVU?"

"I wanted to make a difference. Homicide was starting to grate on me."

"Couldn't make a difference there?" he asked in surprise.

You shook your head. "Not the way I wanted to." You sighed. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say I'm happy to be here."

Elliot smiled. "We're happy to have you."

You returned his smile. "Thanks."

**********

Within 6 months you'd become an integral part of the team. Your experience working in Homicide and as a victim advocate made you an extremely valuable asset.

You'd also gotten to know the other members of your squad very well, especially Elliot. You couldn't help it, the two of you were drawn together.

Elliot flirted with you constantly and you flirted back, despite your better judgment. He'd asked you out a couple times, but you'd always said no. He never pushed you, but he didn't stop trying either.

You had one rule in the workplace...never get involved with a coworker. You'd made that mistake when you first got on the job and it very nearly ruined your life. You wouldn't do it again, even for a man as clearly incredible as Elliot Stabler. Plus, the events that led you to leave Homicide were still fresh in your mind and you weren't ready to open up about any of it.

"(Y/L/N)! We're hitting the bar, wanna come get a drink?" The man in question called to you.

You looked up from your paperwork, catching his deep blue gaze as he eyed you. "I don't know, El, I've got a lot of paperwork to get done."

He groaned. "We've all got a lot of paperwork to get done. It'll still be here in the morning."

He could tell you were unsure, so he turned up the puppy dog eyes as he begged, "C'mon, just one drink."

You sighed. "Fine, fine." You tossed your file to the side and grabbed your coat. "Let's go, kids."

Two hours and four drinks later, you and Elliot were still at the bar. Olivia and Munch had bowed out a half hour earlier and Fin was just paying his tab.

"I'll see you two in the morning. Don't stay up too late," Fin said with a teasing tone before leaving the bar.

"Just us," Elliot said with a grin.

"Didn't you say something about 'just one drink'?"

He grinned wider. "I didn't tell you to have three more."

You groaned. " I wish I could blame you. It'd be easier."

"So, you liking SVU so far?" Elliot asked, changing the subject.

You nodded. "It's rewarding work, as difficult as it is. Plus, I've got some pretty great coworkers."

"Damn straight. Couldn't get any better." He cleared his throat. "I, uhh--I'm really glad you came onboard."

You smiled. "Me too."

Elliot leaned closer and placed his hand on your arm. "I mean it, (Y/N/N)," he said softly.

You leaned into him, the liquor you'd imbibed lowering your inhibitions. "I know, El. So do I."

He slipped his arm around you and pulled you against his chest, his lips against your ear. "Go out with me, (Y/N)," he whispered.

Every fiber of your being was screaming for you to say yes, but there was a tiny voice in your head that reminded you of your rule...and what had happened to you a mere eight months prior. You pulled away from him and turned your body to face his. "El...I want to. I really do."

His face fell. "But?"

"But I can't."

"Why?" he whispered.

You sighed. You'd never given him a good reason...never really explained yourself. He deserved some sort of explanation, even if it wasn't quite accurate. "I don't date at work. I...well, I dated someone when I first joined the force. He was a detective." You paused. "It didn't end well--especially for me. He spread rumors and nearly ruined my reputation. I had to go to a different precinct." It was the truth, sure, but it wasn't the whole truth.

"I would never do that to you."

You offered him a small smile. "I don't think you would. You're a good man--I know you are...but, I can't risk it, Elliot. I just can't." I'm not ready.

He looked sad, but he nodded. "I understand," he said softly. "I can't say I like it, but I get it. However, I have no intention of giving up. You're amazing and I'm not walking away, not yet anyway."

You chuckled lightly and shook your head. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

"Maybe someday you'll say yes."

"Perhaps," you consented.

He seemed content with your answer, and he waved over the bartender. "I'll cover her tab too."

"No, Elliot, you don't--"

"I've got it, doll. Please."

You sighed and let him pay for your drinks.

"Let me walk you home," he insisted.

"I can make it. It's only a couple blocks."

Elliot just stared at you like you were crazy. It was nighttime in Manhattan after all.

You laughed. "Alright, alright. Walk me home, Detective Stabler."

He smiled and held his arm out to you. "My lady?"

You slipped your arm through his and let him guide you to the door and out onto the sidewalk. You felt safe with him, safer than you'd ever felt with anyone else.

The walk to your apartment was quick and peaceful. Elliot chattered about nothing and you just listened to him, a small smile gracing your face.

He walked you all the way to the door of your apartment, just to make sure you got home safely. It warmed your heart. He kissed your cheek before wishing you a goodnight.

You closed the door behind him and leaned your back against the door. The thought that crossed your mind was enough to terrify you; "Dear God, I think I love him," you whispered aloud.

**********

It had been a year since you'd first joined SVU. Elliot had never given up asking you out, but it had been a couple months since he'd last asked. He still spoke to you in the same manner he'd always used: flirtatious, sweet, and funny as hell.

That thought you'd had six months ago was always lingering in the back of your mind and you knew without a shadow of a doubt it was 100% true. It scared the hell out of you and you didn't know how to handle it.

"(Y/L/N)! We've got a live one," Elliot called from across the squad room, interrupting your conversation with Munch. You looked up in Elliot's direction when he called to you.

"Let's go," he said again.

"Where's Olivia?" you asked.

"She's at an appointment. Cragen suggested I grab you."

You walked over to him. "Okay, what do we got?"

"Violent stranger rape in her own home. She's on the way to the hospital now."

"Shit. Let's go."

Three days later and you felt like you were spinning your wheels. Every single lead you'd had hadn't panned out. You had nothing to go on and you were starting to worry the case would go cold.

"We've gotta be missing something," Elliot said, voicing your thoughts aloud.

You ran your fingers through your hair. "We've been over the evidence a thousand times."

"That doesn't mean there's nothing there," he insisted.

"Maybe we just need some rest," Fin suggested.

"No!" you and Elliot yelled at the same time.

Fin threw his hands up and backed away from the two of you. You and Elliot had been there to see the after effects of the brutal crime...you'd been the one to take the victim's statement. No one understand the true horror of this crime like the two of you. You were both determined to find the man who did this before he struck again.

Just then, your desk phone rang. You grabbed it, answering it with a gruff "(Y/L/N)". Your face paled as you listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. "What?"

Elliot, Fin, Olivia, and Munch turned to look at you at the sound of shock in your voice.

"We're on our way." You hung up and stared at the phone for a moment before addressing the rest of the team. "He came back."

"Who came back where?" Olivia asked.

Your eyes locked onto Elliot's and his widened in surprised understanding. "The perp."

You nodded. "He's holding the victim hostage in the hospital basement."

"How the hell does that even happen?" Munch asked.

"Don't know, but let's go," you replied.

When you arrived at the hospital, you were met with the responding officers. They escorted you down to the basement where the rapist was holding your victim.

You left the officers at one entrance, and Munch and Fin were covering the other entrance to the basement to ensure he couldn't escape, leaving you, Elliot, and Olivia to make your way farther into the hostage situation.

You heard a woman's soft whimpering and you moved closer to the sound. "Colleen? Can you hear me? It's Detective (Y/L/N)," you called out.

"Don't come closer or I'll shoot her!" a man's voice yelled in response.

The three of you stopped walking. "Alright. What's your name?" you called back.

"Mac," he answered hesitantly.

You looked over at Elliot. There was no "Mac" on your suspect list.

"Okay, Mac. My name is (Y/N). Can I come closer so we can talk?"

"Are you alone?" he yelled.

"No. My partner is here with me." You subtly left Olivia out, hoping you could catch him off guard with a third person.

"Just you," he said.

You started to move closer to the sound of his voice, but Elliot grabbed your arm. His eyes pleaded with you to stay where you were, but you simply shook your head and shrugged him off. You weren't going to stand idly by while a woman was murdered.

You made it to the large doorway of the room and saw the victim, Colleen, standing directly in front of a man with a gun.

"Stop right there," he said.

Your own gun was pointing right at him, but you stopped in your tracks. "Alright. Just take it easy."

"You're pointing a gun at me. How can I 'take it easy'?"

"You're pointing a gun at her, so I suppose I could say the same to you," you pointed out.

He cocked the gun and pressed it directly against Colleen's skull. "Put yours down or I'll pull the trigger."

Your breath caught in your chest as you realized you had a decision to make. You could try to shoot him, but you had a very narrow window of space...and you might either miss him or shoot the victim. You decided you couldn't take that chance, so you began to lower your gun towards the ground.

"(Y/N), no!" you heard Elliot hiss from somewhere behind you.

You'd already made your decision, so you ignored his voice, and placed your gun on the ground before straightening back up. "You said your name was Mac?"

He nodded.

"Do you mind if I come a little closer, Mac? Just so we can talk more easily."

"You can take three steps towards me."

You moved in his direction, careful to stay within sight of the doorway. "You okay, Colleen?" you asked softly.

Colleen was shaking, terror plainly evident on her face. She started to respond, but Mac tightened his grip on her.

"Don't speak to her," he yelled. "You talk to me. Not her."

You held up your hands. "Okay, okay. What's your plan here, Mac?"

"I never wanted it to come to this. If she would have just left with me, none of this would have happened."

"You wanted Colleen to leave with you?"

"Yes. We could go anywhere," he said wistfully.

A clearer picture of the man standing before you began to emerge. "You care about her, don't you Mac?"

"Care about her?" he asked, almost looking hurt. "I love her. She's my soulmate."

Colleen whimpered as he spoke, tears pouring down her cheeks anew.

"She denied you," you stated.

"She refused to go with me. So I did what I had to do."

You swallowed thickly. "Mac...did you intend to hurt her?"

He looked at you angrily. "I wouldn't have had to if she wouldn't have fought me."

You did your best not to wince at his words. "If you love her, why would you hurt her now?"

"I don't want to. I just want to leave."

"Okay," you said gently. "Let her go and you can leave."

"No!" he yelled, his grip tightening on the gun and Colleen. "She comes with me or she dies."

"You don't really wanna hurt her, Mac. You love her. Maybe she just needs time to realize she loves you too." The words felt wrong coming out of your mouth, but you needed to say whatever you could to save Colleen.

"I know the truth now. She'll never love me." His finger slid to the trigger.

"Mac! Wait! Wait...if you pull that trigger you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

He looked over at you with a mixture of intrigue and surprise on his face. "Go on."

"You'll hate yourself for being the reason the person you love most in the world is gone. You'll never recover from it...the guilt will slowly eat you up inside until one day you decide to end it all just so you can join her."

He watched you carefully, as if he was studying you. "Are you speaking from experience, Detective?"

You hadn't been, but he didn't need to know that. "Yes. And I can promise you, you don't want to end up like me."

To your surprise, he tossed Colleen to the side like she was nothing more than a piece of garbage in his way and he took a menacing step towards you.

In that instant, you realized he'd been playing you the entire time, but it was much too late.

He smiled at you, a terrifying, wolfish expression that made your blood run cold. You turned to run, but he was faster than you. His arms wrapped around your waist and he yanked you back against his chest. You struggled with everything you had, only stopping when you felt the cold metal of the gun press against your head.

"Hello, Detective. It's such a pleasure to see you again," he whispered in your ear.

His voice had changed...deepened slightly, and an accent that had not been there before made itself apparent. The moment you heard him speak, you felt as if the world was crumbling around you.

"You," you whispered in shock and terror.

"(Y/N)!" Elliot yelled as he rushed in, mere seconds after he'd heard your struggle. His gun was pointed in your direction, a look of pure horror on his face as he took in the scene in front of him.

To your surprise, Olivia did not appear behind him, which meant there was a possibility you would get out of this alive. If she could find a way to circle around and come up from behind him...

"The famous Detective Stabler," Mac said, his voice heavily accented. "It's a pleasure to finally get to meet you."

Elliot looked confused. "How do you know who I am?"

"I've followed my lovely (Y/N)'s career quite closely," he said, caressing the side of your face with his free hand. You shied away from him, but there was no where for you to escape to.

Elliot's look of confusion deepened. For the first time, you found yourself wishing you'd been completely open and honest with him. If you'd told him about your past, maybe none of this would be happening.

"You know (Y/N)?" he asked.

"Oh yes, very very well. Some might even say I know her intimately."

You flinched at his choice of words, your body recoiling in place. Your reaction was not lost on Elliot, a look of realization crossing his features.

"Tell him, (Y/N). Tell him about us," Mac whispered in your ear.

Your eyes filled with unshed tears, but you didn't say a word.

Mac chuckled sinisterly. "Tell him how I touched your pretty little body. How I made you feel things no man ever could. Tell him how much you liked it."

The way he emphasized the word 'liked' almost made you hurl, but it also lit a fire inside of you that reminded you to fight. "How about I tell him how you broke into my apartment? How you tied me to my bed and raped me for hours? How you branded me as your property? How you made me want to die?" Your voice had risen to a yell and you were breathless when you finished speaking.

Elliot drew in a shaky breath, his anger threatening to boil over. He cocked his gun and took a step closer.

"Uh-uh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Mac said, pressing the gun against your skull so hard it was certain to leave a mark.

"How'd you know raping Colleen would get you to me?" you asked.

Mac laughed. "I didn't. She's the sixth woman I've raped in Manhattan since you went to Special Victims. I've been hoping you'd catch the case so we could see each other again. This is the first one that managed to make its way to your desk."

You closed your eyes, your breath catching in your chest at his words. "Why?" you whispered.

"Because you're the one who got away."

"You left me tied to my bed. I didn't 'get away'."

"I didn't mean literally," he said dismissively. "After I had you, no one else compared, no matter how hard I tried."

"So, what? You decided to rape a bunch of women in the hopes that she'd notice you?" Elliot sneered angrily.

"She did notice me," Mac said with a smile. "Even if she didn't realize it."

"What's your plan now, Mac?" Elliot asked.

"(Y/N) and I are going to leave and you're going to let us. I know you won't risk her life--I've seen the way you look at her. You're lucky I don't kill you for it."

"And if I don't wanna go?" you whispered.

His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke. "Then I'll kill him and force you to come with me."

"Not today, sweet cheeks," Olivia said from behind you. Her gun was pressed against the back of Mac's head, causing his body to grow stiff with tension. "Now, why don't you be a good boy and let her go?"

After a few tense moments, Mac's hold on you loosened and he let you out of his grip. You immediately pulled away from him and moved in Elliot's direction.

"(Y/N), no!" Elliot yelled at you. You heard two weapons fire almost simultaneously and you dropped to your knees.

Elliot was in front of you in seconds. "Are you okay? (Y/N/N)?"

His eyes searched your face, the fear in them nearly breaking you down. You collapsed into his arms and he pulled you as closely as he could. "You're okay. You're safe," he whispered. "I've got you."

You turned your head just enough to look behind you towards where Mac had been standing. His body was on the floor, blood seeping from his wounds. You knew he was dead without having to go check for a pulse.

Olivia had called for the rest of the team and for a gurney for Colleen. You turned to look at the other woman. She seemed to be okay physically, but the mental and emotional trauma she'd just endured would likely be with her for the rest of her life.

Munch and Fin made it to you before the other officers did.

"What the hell happened?" Fin asked as he took in the scene.

Elliot looked up at him from his place on the floor. "Perp tried to kill (Y/N). Olivia and I both shot him."

The other detectives knew there was more to the story, but this wasn't the time to ask about it. For now, their focus was on getting everyone the hell out of the basement.

Elliot insisted you be seen by a doctor before you left, despite your many arguments. He stayed by your side until the doctor had looked you over and given you a clean bill of health.

You made Elliot take you to see Colleen before you went home. You wanted to make sure she was okay. She thanked you for saving her life and she squeezed your hand in that knowing way that other survivors always did.

You wanted to go back to work, but Elliot insisted you go home. You started to argue, but Cragen ordered you to take the rest of the day off at a minimum and he told Elliot to take you home.

The drive to your apartment was silent--neither one of you knew what to say. The events of the day had unfolded in a completely unforeseen manner and you knew it would have lasting effects on you both.

When you reached your apartment, Elliot parked the car and walked you to your door. You thanked him for taking you home, then lapsed into an awkward silence. Neither of you seemed to know what to say...or maybe you were too scared to say it.

"I thought I was going to lose you," Elliot whispered, breaking the silence.

Your breath caught in your chest and you found yourself unable to respond.

"When I saw him holding that gun to your head..." he trailed off. "And then when he let you go? I watched him turn the gun in your direction and--" he cleared his throat. "All I could think was that I was going to watch you die."

"You saved me," you whispered.

His eyes met yours. "Olivia's the one that shot him in the head."

"Before that."

He cocked his head slightly and his brow furrowed in confusion.

"You gave me the strength I needed to fight...and that saved me long before you put a bullet in him."

He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he was worried it would be unwelcome. "I'm sorry for what he did to you," he said gently.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. "It's not your fault, but I appreciate it."

"Can I ask--why didn't you tell me?"

You could hear the hurt in his voice and it nearly broke your heart. "It was a time in my life I'd rather forget. I've never told anyone outside of the detectives that worked the case. I didn't want to share it with anyone...it was nice to be somewhere where no one knew what happened."

"Is that why you really left Homicide?"

You nodded.

"Where did it happen?"

"Brooklyn."

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"You don't need to apologize for that. I would never force you to share things with me, especially something like that."

Instead of responding, you stepped towards him, wrapped your arms around him, and leaned into his chest for a hug. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, almost as if he was terrified to let go. He kissed the top of your head and you cried softly into his chest.

There was so much more you wanted to explain, so much more you wanted to tell him, but you couldn't seem to find the words. You just wanted to curl up in his arms and shut out the world...but you knew you couldn't do that either.

After several minutes, you pulled away, wiping your face in embarrassment. You noticed the wet spot on his shirt and you blushed. "Sorry," you whispered.

He looked down at his shirt and shrugged. "I'm not. You're always welcome to use my shirt to dry your tears."

The way he said it made you laugh lightly, a sound that was like music to his ears. He smiled at you warmly and you met him with a softer smile.

You could tell he wanted to say something--something that was probably important--but he seemed to think better of it. "Are you gonna be okay by yourself?"

"Yeah...I'll be alright."

He nodded. "Okay. Call me if you need anything--I'll come running."

You gave him a sad smile. "I know you will."

He squeezed your hand and slowly backed away down the hall towards the elevators. He clearly didn't want to leave you and you wanted him to stay more than anything--but you knew if he did, it would change your relationship forever.

Your hand rested on the doorknob, but you couldn't get yourself to turn it and go into the apartment. You watched him as he slowly turned his back to you and walked down the hall.

For the next five seconds, you stood frozen in place. You let the events of the day wash over you and you found yourself suddenly filled with the realization that you didn't want to live without him. Somehow in the past year, he had become your best friend, your rock, your hope, and so much more. If you let him leave now, you'd regret it for the rest of your life.

Before you knew what you were doing, you took off running down the hallway.

Elliot heard your footsteps and turned around. Surprise lit up his face as he watched you racing in his direction.

Without a second thought, you launched yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and burying your head into his neck. He held you tightly, strong arms keeping you from hitting the ground.

"Stay," you whispered against his skin.

"Look at me," he murmured.

You looked at him, tears filling your bright eyes.

"Say it again."

"Stay," you whispered with a little more force than before.

His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back up to your eyes. You knew what he was silently asking and you didn't want to say no. You crashed your lips against his, the action so clearly filled with emotion.

He kissed you back with equal intensity, one of his hands sliding up your back to cup the nape of your neck. He made his way back to your apartment door, swung it open, and kicked it closed without ever separating his lips from yours.

He pressed your back up against the door as he continued to kiss you so he could lock the door. As badly as he wanted this--wanted you--safety was still on the forefront of his mind.

"Bedroom?" he asked against your neck.

"First door on the left," you answered breathlessly.

He carried you to your room and tossed you onto the bed rather gracefully. You used your elbows to lift your upper body as you watched him slowly begin to undress before you.

He unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the ground. He quickly rid himself of his undershirt, giving you an unobstructed view of his muscled form. You made a small sound somewhere between a groan and a moan, causing him to smirk knowingly.

"See something you like?" he teased.

"I see a whole lot that I like." You beckoned him towards you and he complied after kicking off his shoes.

He hovered over your body, caging you beneath his much larger form. "You're so beautiful," he murmured.

You felt your cheeks heat up, unused to such sweet words from men. Thankfully, he didn't expect a response from you; he simply wanted you to know. His lips brushed against yours in a soft kiss and your hands tentatively made their way to his back, feeling the warm skin beneath your palms.

Elliot's own hands began a gentle caress down the curves of your body, his lips trailing behind. He began to unbutton your shirt, then slid his hands across your stomach, coming to rest on your hips.

The moment his right hand touched your hip, you instinctively flinched away from him. He stopped what he was doing and looked up at you. Your eyes were far away and a look of discomfort clouded your face.

He pulled away from you, not wanting to do anything you weren't comfortable with. "I'm sorry," he said gently. "We can stop."

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts along with the distant look in your eyes. You focused on the man in front of you and took a deep breath. "I want this, Elliot. I really do..." you paused. "But there's something you need to know first."

He nodded, but remained silent, waiting for you to speak.

You bit your lip and looked down at the duvet cover on your bed, his gaze too intense for you in the moment. "It was a little over a year and a half ago," you began. "I was living in Brooklyn, working Homicide...I was happy."

"It was Spring," you continued. "The night breeze was cool and comforting. It brought the promise of new life..." you trailed off for a moment. "My apartment was on the third floor. It was warm, so I opened the window...I forgot to close it before I fell asleep."

You exhaled heavily before continuing, "He came into my room around midnight. I woke up with him on top of me, his hand covering my mouth, my arms tied to the headboard above my head. He was wearing a mask...I never saw his face. He put a gag into my mouth and tore my pajamas from my body."

You had to stop for a moment. The images from that night flashed through your mind, rendering you silent.

"You don't have to tell me," Elliot whispered kindly.

"I want to--I need to," you insisted. You took another deep breath. "He raped me for hours. He used a knife to cut me and he'd hit me when I struggled. Eventually, I was too weak to fight back...and I just took it. Just before he left, he used my stove to heat a metal brand...a brand he burned into the skin just above my left hip."

With shaking hands, you pulled your shirt to the side and tugged your pants down just enough so the brand was visible. "It says 'Property of MST'," you said softly.

Elliot's eyes were brimming with tears. He wanted to kill anyone who had ever hurt you...starting with this son of a bitch. Lucky for him, the man who did this to you was already dead.

"I never knew what it meant--what 'MST' stood for. Brooklyn SVU didn't have many leads and they never had a solid suspect. Since I never saw his face, I wasn't much use either." You shuddered slightly. "But I remember his voice. It lives in my nightmares and the darkest corners of my mind. I'll never forget the sound of his voice."

For the first time since you'd started, Elliot made a comment. "His voice--it changed after he grabbed you."

You nodded. "The moment I heard it, I knew who he was--but my surprise gave him the advantage and nearly cost me my life."

Elliot reached out and took your hand. You finally looked up at him and found yourself overcome with emotions.

As if he sensed it, Elliot pulled you towards him. "Come here, sweetheart. Let me hold you."

You curled up against his chest, feeling safe in his warm embrace.

"Thank you for telling me," he said softly.

"Thank you for letting me."

He kissed the top of your head. "I won't let anyone else hurt you. Never again."

You sighed. "You can't promise me that."

"Maybe not, but I'll die trying."

You pulled away from him so you could look up at his face. He looked so fiercely protective you had no doubt he would do anything for you.

You touched his face gently before pulling him towards you for a kiss. What started out as a sweet kiss quickly turned to passion.

Elliot crawled back on top of you as you began to lay back against the mattress, his lips locked onto yours. He wanted to be gentle with you, make sure you were comfortable every step of the way--make you feel safe and loved.

"Can I touch you?" he whispered.

"Please," you begged softly, your own hands coming to rest on his chest.

He didn't need to be told twice. His hands went around your waist and pulled you towards him, giving you just enough room to get your shirt off. He made quick work of your bra, tossing it to the side of the bed.

He saw the scars that littered your chest and they broke his heart. How someone could hurt you was beyond him, and he was determined to make you feel beautiful.

His lips pressed against each and every scar that he could see, along with the soft skin of your breasts and your pert nipples, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

Elliot was the first man you'd been with since the rape and you couldn't be more glad that you waited. He was so gentle, so affectionate, so loving--so accepting.

Your hands grasped his belt buckle and you quickly tugged it loose. You unbuttoned his pants, but you were too slow for Elliot's taste. He pulled away from you just long enough to shed his pants before he was right back on top of you, lips grazing the flesh of your stomach.

When he reached the top of your pants, he looked up at you for permission. "Can I take these off?"

You nodded and lifted your hips up to assist him. As he pulled your jeans down your legs, you found yourself feeling nervous. This would be the first time anyone had seen your legs, other than your doctor, since the attack. They were riddled with scars, especially your thighs.

Elliot's heart nearly broke in half when he saw the extent of the scarring on your legs. He found himself wanting to kill the monster who did this to you yet again, but he took solace in the fact that he could never hurt you again.

He looked up at you, blue eyes filled with emotion. "You're perfect, (Y/N)," he whispered. "Absolutely perfect."

You would have argued with anyone else who said those words about you, but there was something so incredibly sincere in the way he said it that you found yourself believing him.

"Elliot, please touch me," you begged softly.

"Anything for you, baby. Anything for you."

He dipped his head down and pressed a soft kiss on the burned flesh of your upper hip where the brand marred the skin. The sweet, gentle action sent shivers up your spine and a soft sigh left your lips.

Elliot smiled against your skin as he moved downward, focusing his attention on your thighs. He kissed every inch of your skin on your left leg before moving to the right. By the time he reached your core, you were practically panting with need.

His lips grazed your mound, providing no relief to the throbbing between your legs. You lifted your hips towards his face, seeking some form of friction, but he pulled just out of reach. You let out a little frustrated groan, earning a deep chuckle from him.

"Patience, doll. I'm trying to take my time here. It's difficult enough without you taunting me with your pretty little body and those sweet noises you make."

"I've waited for so long, Elliot," you whimpered. "I just want you so badly."

He was very tempted to give in, after all, he'd been waiting even longer than you had. He'd wanted you from the moment you'd walked into the squad room a year before.

"I know, baby," he said softly as he massaged your thighs. "But if I can wait for an entire year to touch you, you can wait a few more minutes, can't you?"

You let out a grumbling sound, followed by a sigh. "I suppose that's fair," you mumbled.

He laughed lightly. Now that he'd gotten you to agree to be patient, he decided he didn't wanna wait. Without another word, he lowered his head, settled comfortably between your legs, and dove directly into your pussy with a satisfied moan.

You gasped at the pleasurable sensation and immediately reached for his hair. There wasn't much for you to grab onto, but that didn't stop you from raking your nails against his scalp.

He groaned against your pussy and pushed his face even closer while pulling your hips towards him. He was clearly enjoying the sensations you gave him, as well as the activity he was currently engaged in.

While Elliot may have been enjoying himself immensely, nothing came close to the level of pleasure you were experiencing. His lips, his tongue--his mouth--it all felt so incredible. He was quite clearly experienced and he wasn't holding back.

"Elliot," you gasped, fingers desperately trying to find purchase against the skin of his arms and shoulders. "Please--I need--" you couldn't finish your thought, but he seemed to know exactly what you needed.

He slipped two fingers into your dripping hole and began to stroke your g-spot, while continuing his delicious assault on your clit. The sounds you made were music to his ears and he started to imagine what you'd sound like when you came apart on his mouth. He needed to hear it so badly--needed to feel you clenching around him, moaning his name, gasping for breath...

He didn't have to wait long. Within minutes, you were coming apart beneath him, his name repeated like a prayer from your lips. Your hips bucked up against his face, but he held on tightly, continuing to feast on your release.

Your body quickly became overstimulated and you begged him to stop--it was just too much. He decided to have mercy on you and he came up for air with a triumphant grin on his face. His mouth and chin were shining with your juices, but you couldn't find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Not when it felt so good; not when he looked so damn proud about it.

"Com'ere handsome," you murmured softly as you reached for him.

He happily crawled up your body, placing kisses to your skin as he moved. When he reached your face, he hovered over you, eyes scanning your face--as if he was memorizing it.

You pulled him down to you and kissed him passionately. The taste of yourself on his lips was foreign, but it felt so right.

His hard length brushed up against your thigh and you were reminded he was still wearing his underwear. You offered him a little friction with the movement of your pelvis against his, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat.

You pulled his head back down to you, kissing along his jawline until you reached his ear. "Lose the underwear, babe," you whispered.

You were quite certain you'd never seen anyone move so fast in your life. You blinked and he was back on top of you, hard cock demanding attention, precum beading at the tip.

You hooked your leg around his waist and flipped him onto his back before he knew what was happening.

He chuckled lightly as he landed on his back beneath you. "Who said you could be in charge?" he teased.

You batted your eyelashes at him and smiled. "You're still in charge, baby. I'm just on top."

He had to admit, the sight of you hovering above him, looking like a goddess, was an incredible image. One he hoped would live in his memory forever.

"May I taste you?" you asked in a soft, seductive voice.

Elliot's eyes widened and he nodded slowly. He watched as you positioned yourself so your mouth was directly above his erect cock. He thought this was another image he would like to add to his collection, but when your mouth wrapped around him, every thought he'd ever had was gone in an instant.

Every movement of your tongue, your mouth, your hands, had him moaning and breathing heavily. He tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled it to the side so he could see your pretty face.

You flicked your eyes up to meet his, never ceasing your movements. His moan was loud enough to wake the neighbors--the eye contact almost making him come.

He began muttering words of encouragement, a mixture of "that's it baby" and "fuck, doll, you're doing so good". Each phrase he uttered became a little more breathless as he neared his release.

Your jaw had begun to ache, but you didn't care. You wanted to taste him, wanted to feel his hot cum shoot down your throat. You moaned around his cock at the thought, sending pleasing vibrations through his body.

"Shit--" he gasped. "I'm gonna--fuck, baby--gonna cum."

You moaned again in encouragement and flicked your eyes back up to his face. You wanted to watch him as he orgasmed.

A moment after you looked up at him, he looked down at you--making eye contact. His eyes seemed to roll into the back of his head and he leaned his head back as he came with a cry of your name.

You lowered yourself so you were taking his cock completely into your mouth and throat, allowing his seed to spill down your throat. His grip on your hair had tightened to an almost painful level, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

You helped him ride out his high and his grip on you lessened as he began to come down. After a few moments, his body shivered with aftershocks and he gave you a gentle tug.

"Sensitive," he gasped.

You sat up and offered him a smirk. "So how did I do?"

He laughed breathily. "Come here you delicious creature," he mumbled as he reached for you.

You settled into the crook of his arm, laying your head on his chest. He leaned forward just enough so he could kiss the top of your head.

"Best I've ever had," he whispered.

You looked up at him in surprise and disbelief, but everything about his expression told you he was serious. You blushed as you murmured a quiet "Thank you."

You settled back against his chest and he let you lay there for a few moments before rolling over and caging you beneath him. "My turn," he teased before leaning down to kiss you.

You giggled and pulled him closer, lips chasing after his hungrily. Within moments, his cock had hardened and he was ready to go another round.

You were slightly surprised when you felt his erection brush against your core--most men you'd been with were one and done kind of people.

Elliot must have seen the surprise on your face, because he said, "I can't let my girl have just one orgasm."

Your eyes widened and he laughed lightly.

"What?" he asked.

"It's just...well--I've never had more than one before," you answered honestly.

Now it was his turn to look surprised. "Never?"

You shook your head.

"It's my mission to give you at least two, preferably three or more."

"Three?" you asked incredulously. "Or more?"

He grinned. "All I need from you is permission to try."

"You absolutely have my permission," you said quickly.

You went back to kissing each other and running your hands over each other's bodies. It didn't take long for you to both be too worked up to wait any longer.

"Shit--" he mumbled. "Condom's in my wallet."

"I'm on the pill," you said breathlessly.

His eyes scanned your face for the slightest hint of discomfort, but all he saw was raw desire. "Are you sure?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Very," you breathed out. "I wanna feel you."

How could he say no to that? He groaned softly and pressed his cock up against your entrance.

Much to your surprise, you weren't nervous at all. In fact, you were excited and desperate. His cock was large--larger than you were accustomed to--and you hadn't experienced penetrative sex in over a year. But dear god, you were ready.

"Elliot, I need you," you whispered.

That was all he needed to hear. He pressed his cock up against your entrance again, but this time he kept going until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

Once he bottomed out, the two of you let out soft moans and you clung to his arms for support. He gave you a few moments to adjust before beginning to thrust.

As soon as he started to move, you understood what your friends had told you for years. They would talk about how amazing sex was--how skilled and incredible their partner was--how their partner cared about their pleasure more than his own. All of a sudden, for the first time in your life, you knew what they meant. This was what sex was supposed to be like. This was what having a loving partner felt like.

"(Y/N)," he whispered against your skin as he thrust into you. "Tell me what you need."

You weren't sure what you needed--this kind of sex was new territory for you. "I'm...I'm not sure. Just--try different things and I'll tell you."

Your enjoyment was all that mattered to him. You could have asked him to do almost anything and he would have. He was a little surprised you didn't quite know what you liked, but he was determined to find out.

Elliot shifted his position so your hips were elevated slightly and he pulled your legs up to rest against his chest. He had a feeling you would like this particular position and boy was he right.

The new angle allowed him to hit your g-spot with each thrust. You moaned loudly and grabbed the sheets as you writhed beneath him. It felt so good you could barely formulate words, let alone a coherent sentence.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please, what, baby?"

"More," you gasped.

He smirked slightly as his hand slid between your bodies in search of your clit. When his fingers brushed against you, you let out a squeal of delight.

Elliot focused all his attention on getting a second orgasm from you. His hips never faltered and his fingers worked their magic on your clit.

You fell apart within moments, strangled cries of his name and obscenities pouring from your lips.

He continued to thrust through your orgasm and he slowly let your legs come back down around his waist. Your body shuddered beneath his and he head you tight as he moved slowly.

"You okay, sweet girl?" he whispered as he kissed your face.

"More...than...okay," you said between breaths.

"Good," he murmured. "Think you can give me one more?"

Your eyes widened. "There's--there's no way, El."

He chuckled. "Well, we'll see."

He sat back up and pulled your hips down so you were flush against him, then he twisted them so you were on your side. He pulled your left leg up against him and proceeded to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

You were surprised by the incredible feelings washing over you--you'd never felt such immense pleasure in your life. Every time Elliot switched positions, he gauged your reaction and took mental note of the ones that had you moaning the loudest and writhing against him.

He finally flipped you onto your stomach and continued fucking you from behind. Within seconds, you determined you'd found your favorite position. You could barely breathe--the pleasure was so overwhelming.

Elliot noticed too. He held your hips tightly as he thrust, desperately trying to control his own impending orgasm. He knew he was going to get a third one from you in this position, so he kept up his movements.

You were muffling your screams into the pillow and your legs had begun to shake. You couldn't explain this sensation even if your life depended on it. It was a pleasure you'd never before experienced and it threatened to drown you.

Your third orgasm slammed into you without much warning and your pussy spasmed around his cock as you came. He could barely hold back, but he wanted to see your face when he finally came.

You were beyond spent, so he gently flipped you over and slid back inside of you. He was close to his own high and he couldn't wait much longer.

"I'm close, doll--just wanna see your face," he mumbled.

You touched his cheek, pulling his face down to yours for a kiss. When your lips separated, you whispered, "Come inside me."

"You sure?" he asked tentatively.

"Please. Wanna feel you fill me up."

He groaned loudly--your words having a larger effect on him than he expected. After a few more thrusts, his hips began to stutter and his thrusts became uneven.

He gasped and grunted and moaned your name as he came, filling you up with his seed. Once he was spent, he collapsed on top of you, completely unable to move.

You wrapped your arms around him lazily, enjoying the feeling of his weight on top of you.

"Hurting you?" he mumbled.

"I like it," you whispered back.

The two of you laid like that for several moments before Elliot finally regained the strength to roll off of you. You let out a sound of disappointment at the loss of contact, but he very quickly pulled you against his chest as he laid down behind you.

You were both quite warm, but there was something so wonderfully comforting about his arms that you couldn't force yourself to pull away.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, Elliot finally spoke. "We should probably shower."

"Mhmm," you hummed in agreement.

He chuckled lightly. "How 'bout I get the shower started? Make sure it's nice and hot before I come get you."

"Mhmm," you hummed again.

He smiled and shook his head as he placed a kiss to your head. He dragged himself out of the bed and headed to the bathroom to start the shower.

After a few minutes, Elliot came back out to get you. You giggled as he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bathroom. He was so gentle as he helped you wash your body, his lips dancing across your wet skin as the suds washed off.

After the shower, he dried you off and escorted you back to your bed. You curled up under the covers and let out a soft, contented sigh.

You looked up at Elliot as he tugged his boxers back on. You felt a pang of worry, which must have shown on your face because Elliot spoke in a concerned tone. "Sweetheart? You okay?"

You nodded. "Do you wanna--I mean, would you--could--?"

"I'd love to stay," he said quietly, answering the question you couldn't quite get out.

The tension eased from your body and you sighed in relief. You threw the covers back and he crawled in beside you. He dragged you to him, tugging you against his chest. He kissed your forehead as you nuzzled into him.

You'd never felt quite as safe as you felt in his arms. You couldn't have even imagined feeling so comfortable with another person, let alone a man--not after all you'd been through.

That safety--that comfort--allowed you to fall asleep within minutes of curling up with Elliot.

Elliot, on the other hand, couldn't quite fall asleep yet. He was just so damn happy...he didn't want to spend another moment without you. You made life worth living, even through all the darkness you both experienced at work. But he couldn't say the words he felt in his heart--at least not yet.

Soon, he thought as his eyelids grew heavy. Soon.