#law and order: special victims unit

[multifandomme]

Case Closed

Pairing: Casey Novak x Female Reader

Summary: Following an unfavourable verdict, Casey struggles to let the case go until you intervene.

Genre: Smut, (strap-ons, choking, spanking, light degradation, praise), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 2.5k.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here.

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A seventy-one percent conviction rate was never to be taken lightly, a statistic that filled Casey with incomparable pride and only fuelled her passion to see justice through to the end. As unyielding and motivated as the woman was, there was always a slight chance of failure, an odd occasion where a case could be rendered shambolic before a jury. This was one of those rare occurrences.

Casey had taken the shortcoming personally as expected, unable to pry herself away from the case entirely. You could practically hear her mind whirring, more so when she had taken the decision to seclude herself in the study of your shared home. The light from the desk lamp peered out into the hallway, its understated rays peeking into your bedroom as you awaited her eventual arrival to no avail. Instead, the sound of shuffling papers filled the silence, fervent as if she was starting from scratch, something that you could not allow for the sake of her sanity.

Huffing, you followed the light, soft footfalls denying Casey of pre-empting your approach, not that she would have in her state of unshakable focus. Her teeth plucked nervously at her lips, irritable sighs passing through the chasm that she had allowed.

“Trial’s over,” you spoke, flatly, your exasperation bubbling just below the surface. “You need to let it go.”

Casey remained stoic, unfazed by your sudden approach, though when her eyes did flicker to meet yours, they sparked with an ardent contempt.

“That bastard walked, Y/N,” she growled, furiously. “You can’t seriously expect me to sit here and do nothing about it.”

Instinctively, your jaw tensed, the deja vu of having to repeat this exact conversation every few months suddenly registering. The same black mug rested atop the desk, coffee teetering on the brim, the mahogany below wholly hidden beneath pages upon pages of documents, images. Indignantly, you made a pass for the mug, hoping that denying her lifeblood would bring Casey back to reality, allow for exhaustion to finally set in as it should.

“In fact,” you spoke, your lips pursed together, resolute in your decision. “That’s exactly what I expect you to do.”

Casey leapt upwards from her chair, hands slamming on top of the papers so abruptly that a few cascaded to the ground beneath.

“Y/N-”

“The case is closed,” you interjected, impatiently, rebutting any possibility of a protest though you were sure you would be met with countless more. “You did all that you could and that is enough.”

Tension thickened in the air, uncertain as to whether Casey was going to berate you or pin you down. In a petulant bid, you emptied the cup of coffee down your throat, wincing at its strength as the woman observed with a fleeting glint of amusement. Quickly, you gathered the papers between your fingers, dodging tactfully as Casey’s hands tried to repossess them, your expert avoidance only conjuring more persistence within her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Casey questioned, taking umbrage as she crossed her arms tightly atop her chest.

A wry chuckle fell from you, the documents securely stowed away in a lockable filing cabinet behind you.

“What does it look like?” You quipped, a little smirk forming in the corner of your lips and evoking a growing suspicion in the woman. “I’m clearing the desk so I can bend you over it, Miss Novak.”

Casey’s lip instantaneously found itself clamped between her teeth, though this time the act was entirely different in nature, erotic, laced in intrigue. Unfortunately, the moment of weakness was quickly bitten away once she had realised her error, an expression of apathy soon emerging to take its place.

“You seem confident,” Casey half-questioned, as though attempting to sow a seed of doubt within you, her efforts failing miserably.

A hum of knowingness reverberated as you dared to make an approach, your body soon to press against hers, no semblance of rejection in the air.

“I could make a very convincing case,” you riled, brimming with victory as Casey flexed her jaw from the exacerbation you had incited. “But I won’t need to do that, will I?”

And there it was, the look. Casey had been made, lust dripping from her gaze despite her avid ploys to will it away. In her state of flitting defencelessness, you forced her stomach flat against the wood, a firm grasp exerted around the back of her neck, cinching with brute force.

“Fuck you,” she grunted, aggressively, though no attempts at an escape were made as predicted.

“Watch your mouth,” you advised, lowly, fingers dipping below her waistline to shimmy down the black trousers that she donned. “That’s fighting talk for someone who hasn’t put up a shred of resistance.”

Casey opened her mouth to speak, though subsequently decided to self-sabotage her attempt at a reply. The woman could not argue with the truth, in fact, she had made a career out of seeking it out.

“Wise choice,” you acknowledged, smartly, a light huff exuding Casey in reaction to your remark. “Now, let’s see what you’ve been hiding, hm?”

Soft, black material pooled around obsidian heels, forsaken as you sought further territory, your hand snug against her underwear from behind. A smirk soon blossomed upon realising the moisture that painted your palm, Casey’s cheeks glowing pink in embarrassment.

“Predictable,” you commented, smugly, only for Casey to swivel harshly in your grasp, thwarted by your quick reactions.

“How about now?” She scoffed, arms wrangling to push herself upwards to no avail, your grasp unyielding, firm.

Dodging the question, you drew ghosting circles over her underwear-clad clit with delicate fingertips, hoping to obscure her need to defy you. Of course, Casey melted into a puddle below your touch, consumed by the newfound need to be sated, the urge that she had been ignoring for weeks now. Her sensitivity had heightened tenfold in the absence of intimacy, her legs quaking as you continued your ministrations, ensuring to execute every manoeuvre at a painstaking pace. Nothing was more satisfying than watching her suffer, observing as her stoic exterior weakened until it underwent a total collapse.

“See?” You whispered, seductively. “Look how easy it is when you submit to me like a good girl.”

The blonde whined, slowly acquiescing to the reality that you were right, that good behaviour would lead her to exactly what she wanted. Unfortunately, you weren’t as agreeable as she had initially presumed you to be.

“Take them off,” Casey groaned, frustratedly, her hips jogging against your hand to gain further friction. “Do it.”

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do, princess,” you reminded, halting all movement as you clawed your fingernails against the backs of her thighs. “If you want anything from me, you’d better be quiet.”

A stifled gasp freed itself from Casey, flinching lightly from the sudden influx of pain that occurred to her. Her teeth peered from behind her lips in a reactive wince, soon to be replaced by a masochistic beam, carnal, ablaze. Hazel eyes peered into the depths of you, sure that she had been aptly subdued until a mischievous glint flecked across her irises.

“Make me,” Casey gnarled, an audible gulp following suit in realisation of the challenge she had just created, regret visibly infiltrating.

A scoff was the only response that you could muster, your disapproval conveyed in the way your hands roughly gripped her in place.

“Look around,” you snarled, domineeringly. “This isn’t the office,” you observed, Casey shivering in sheer anticipation. “You have no jurisdiction... no power.”

Harshly, your palm smacked across her ass, a scarlet tinge soon beginning its materialisation as the woman mewled in half-shock.

“Who’s in charge?” You questioned, repeating the act with vigour, her skin all but reddened and only darkening. “Answer me.”

Casey faltered, her words fizzling into incoherency as her skin burned ablaze. Noting her noncompliance, your fingers resurfaced to trail against her underwear, this time slipping below the obstructing material to greet the skin there. The direct contact had Casey gasping for air, her forehead scrunched in pleasure as she bucked mindlessly against the newfound pressure. Of course, the pacification was short-lived, enlisted as a means of probing the woman for a response, an admission of your dominion over her.

“You... you are,” she conceded, breathlessly, head twisting over her shoulder to maintain eye contact. “Please, Y/N.”

“Oh, baby,” you crooned, patronisingly as you swivelled the woman around to face you, her shirt bunched up from her prior position of incapacitation. “I know you can do better than that, hm?”

The blonde groaned as she felt you close the distance, your chest fused to hers as you attacked her neck with your lips, feral in your exploration of her. Heated kisses set her skin alight, the burn lingering in the wake of their absence as you traversed to suck marks into her collarbone.

“Oh no,” you gasped, feigning remorse. “That’s going to leave a mark.”

Casey attempted to readjust, her resistance mastered the second your lips found her favourite spot, weakened instantly.

“Baby,” she drawled, her warning tone failing to register due to the pleasured moans that obscured it. “People will notice.”

Laughter rumbled in your throat, your digits disappearing between the two of you to probe softly at Casey’s pussy.

“Mhm, you’re right,” you considered, wasting no time in impaling the blonde with two fingers, Casey jolting as she felt the intrusion. “They’ll notice what a desperate little slut you were for me.”

Casey’s whining only intensified, the gentle pace that you had opted for keeping her from any form of ascension. Deviously, she rocked her hips in the hopes of establishing her own rhythm, though this was denied the moment that the idea appeared to be born from her.

“What are you waiting for?” She flared, her mouth pried agape from the way groans passed through on a continuum, blinded by the sensation that you had induced. “Please, fuck me. I need it.”

Smirking, you retracted from her, your hands making quick work of your trousers as you observed Casey’s gaze suddenly become engrossed. The strap on that you had been shrouding suddenly sprung free, void of its confinements as saliva gathered in the corners of the blonde’s mouth, wholly mesmerised. Instinctively, Casey’s arms encircled around your neck as she drew you against her, presenting her pussy to align with the appendage. The desperation that lurked within her eyes was too much to bear as you subsequently melted below her submissive state, fingers cinching at her skin for leverage.

“Are you going to be a good girl and take it?” You whispered, your words muffled lightly against her tousled tresses, soft against your lips, though the moan that fell from her indicated her acknowledgement.

Casey nodded vehemently, the question proving to be a no-brainer given her condition and dwindling patience. She sank herself down on you slowly, your hips jutting forwards to bottom out inside of her, a hiss of pain-pleasure emanating in response.

“Give it to me,” Casey encouraged, her head thrown back in ecstasy as you began to slam into her, the pace merciless to say the least. “Ugh, fuck.”

Sharp nails buried themselves into the skin of your shoulders, the stinging pain only fuelling your need to satisfy her. Casey’s features were scrunched inwards, her blissful expression causing you to become transfixed, hyper-focused upon how gorgeous she was. Your fingers toyed expertly with her clit, free hand secured around her back to will her harder against the appendage.

“Does it feel good, baby?” You grunted, breathily, eyes intent on the woman before you. “You look so fucking pretty like this.”

In her state of complete thoughtlessness, Casey failed to answer the question, short breaths passing in and out of her swollen lips. Abruptly, you removed the hand that was holding her steady, her body flailing to land flat against the wood, her back pressed rigidly atop the cool mahogany. Her eyes sprung open, widening when your fist enclosed around her slender throat, squeezing just enough to watch her eyes roll backwards in euphoria.

“So pathetic,” you barked, though the sparkle in your eye only nullified the words you had just spoken. “Look at you, all fucked out like a dirty whore.”

Casey let out a guttural moan, her husky voice growing raspier by the minute as you pummelled her with feral speed. The woman could barely gather her breath, oxygen stolen the second you pounded into her once more, chest heaving methodically. Your fingers fiddled with the buttons of her shirt, the repeated movement of your thrusting denying your ability to undo them as you resorted to tearing the material roughly. Casey’s breasts bounced with the force of your exertions, confined within her bra before you grabbed them free of it, massaging zealously.

“Baby, fuck,” Casey groaned, her gaze panic-stricken in the moment. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

Swiftly, you detached from her, repositioning her to bend over the desk like you had initially planned. Casey wasted no time in getting into position, pre-emptively crossing her wrists over the small of her back and awaiting your deathly grip upon them. Impatiently, you drove into her with vigour, no heed paid to the way the desk shook avidly beneath the weight of your actions. Casey cried out, loud pants filling the room, your hand occasionally delivering a shattering slap to her ass to aide her looming orgasm. The blonde’s heels quaked unsteadily beneath her, wavering before she managed to bring herself under control.

“Cum for me,” you insisted, keenly. “I want to hear it.”

Casey’s body shook violently, her thighs sent into spasm as her cheek pressed harshly to the wood of the desk. Her eyes were squeezed together, teeth marks adorning the delicate flesh of her lips as she whined helplessly.

“Y/N,” she rasped, faintly, her body fatigued from the strenuosity it had been subjected to.

Her hips jolted sporadically, the strap on still lodged deep inside of her as she gyrated a few times to squeeze out the last remnants of pleasure. Your hand grappled with the nape of her neck and dragged her upwards, her back tight against your chest as you grazed your lips across the purpling bruises you had made earlier.

“Fuck, I needed that,” Casey admitted, her voice no greater than a whisper as she basked in the aftermath.

You smiled into her shoulder, arms holding her protectively as she grew lax in your embrace.

“I know,” you spoke, cockily, a playful bite falling to her shoulder as she yelped. “Now, about that case-”

Casey immediately withdrew from you with a pointed sigh, hands pressed to your chest, a knowing look passing over her.

“You were right,” she acquiesced, albeit bitterly. “I need to learn how to let it go.”

You shook your head, a frown consuming your features as you observed Casey spiral into confusion.

“No, not this time,” you rebutted, a smile peeking from behind your lips, a surge of motivation filling you. “We’re going to nail that bastard and I’m going to help you.”

Reinvigorated with fresh excitement, Casey grinned.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" She asked, a delicate kiss planted upon your mouth, thumbs brushing affectionately across the warm skin of your cheeks.

You paused in faux contemplation, the act earning a sarcastic scoff from the latter.

"No," you lied, a chuckle exuding. "But I think I have a pretty good idea."

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[fourteenthofaugust]

requested by anon:

Olivia Benson + her red shirt | 8x22: Screwed

[resteasykaryn]

❝ Is that a flower in your cup? ❞ ❝ It's tea. ❞

LAW AND ORDER: SVU

∟ 8x11 Burned

[rayofninetynine]

the evolution of elliot and olivia's relationship through the years (1999 – ∞)

[bullet-prooflove]

Ex!Joe Part Five: Wishes - Joe Velasco x Reader

Tagging: @plaidbooks @misscharlielulu @witches-unruly-heart @storiesofsvu @magic-multicolored-miracle @rosaliedepp @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @mysoulisasunflower @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatesqcrush @mydarkestsecretlol @upsteadlogic @wooshwastaken @kiwiithecrazybird @justreblogginfics @anime-weeb-4-life @alwaysachorusgirl @telepathay @weiwei0210 @dancingonthebeachatdawn @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @trublu2u @yezzyyae @thiashazzywriting @altsvu @whateversomethingbruh @a-noni-love @collegegirl83

EX!Joe Series:

Part One: Left Behind - Joe’s life is thrown into turmoil when you show up in the Squad Room.

Part Two: Brighton Beach - Joe finds out why you’re back in Manhatten.

Part Three: History - You explain what happened all those years ago.

Part Four: Crash - Joe has a lot to think about.

Joe dreams of dark-haired children, he chases them around a garden that resembles the park that he goes running in. He hears their laughter in his ears, catches a glimpse of them as they duck behind the trees. He dreams of nights with you, the past and the future, hands teasing over sensitive flesh, lips caressing soft skin, the sound of his name as you come for him. He dreams of the family he could have had, the one that’s always been just out of reach.

He mourns their loss when he wakes up in a hospital room he doesn’t recognise. You capture his arm as he tries to untangle himself, preventing him from wrenching out the wires that are attached to him.

“Joe…” You say softly and he squeezes your hand tightly because you’re a soothing presence amongst the disorientation that assaults him.

Joe knows why you’re here, why out of everyone in his life you are the one they summoned to the hospital. He hasn’t changed his emergency contact. You must think that it’s an oversight but it isn’t. The truth is he doesn’t have anyone else in his life that he trusts to make decisions on his behalf, to understand his wishes, to fulfil them.

“How bad?” He asks, his throat scratchy, his voice a rasp.

“Nothing broken.” You reassure him, stroking his arm lightly. “You have some nasty gravel rash and a concussion, that’s why they’re keeping you here…”

Joe heaves himself up into sitting a position. Agony ricochets through his body. He hisses through his teeth as it sears through him, grating across his nerves. He yanks at the sensors that are attached to him, tossing them onto the bed.

“Can you get me discharged?” He asks you forcefully.

“You hit your head pretty hard even with the helmet on.” You tell him, raising to your feet. “They want to keep you in for observation.”

“Can you do it?” He repeats, his green eyes meeting yours.

He’s antsy you can tell. You’ve forgotten his phobia of hospitals, how they made him feel like he wants to crawl out of his own skin. He’d had a bad experience back in Juárez, he would never tell you the details but anytime he ended up being treated in a hospital, he’d sweat bullets, his jaw would tense and he’d clench his fists until his knuckles went white.

You sigh as you withdraw your badge from the pocket of your overcoat and drape it around your neck.

“I’ll do what I can.” ----

Joe’s apartment is an incarnation of his previous one. It’s neat and sparse with very little in the way of personal effects. You see it a lot with people who’ve spent the majority of their careers undercover. There’s a photograph of his mother and his priest in a slender black frame on the mantlepiece but that’s it. Everything else is boilerplate, the way it was when you first met him. He merely exists in this space, he doesn’t live in it.

“You don’t have to stay,” he tells you after you close the door to the apartment behind you.

“Kinda do.” You tell him, stripping off your overcoat and hanging it on the coat pegs installed alongside the front door. “That was part of the agreement about leaving the hospital. You have to be supervised for the next twenty four hours.”  

He’s too tired to argue with you, instead he retreats to the bedroom, shutting both the door and you out. You don’t blame him, he’s had a lot of turmoil tonight. You know he’s overwhelmed at the moment, that he’s trying to process everything that’s happened. You’re probably the last person he wants here but there’s nothing you can do, you just have to make the best of it for now. You open his fridge and sigh, before withdrawing your phone to order groceries.

You cook for him, it’s a throwback to a time when the two of you lived together. He misses this, all of this, he’s been with multiple women since you but not one has come close. The problem is even after all this time he’s still in love with you. He knows how pathetic it is.

He doesn’t say anything when you rap your knuckles on the bedroom door. Part of him wants to tell you to leave, so that he can go back to the way things were but the reality is, that can’t happen. He knows why you left now, about the baby, about the depression you fell into in the aftermath of the miscarriage and he can’t blame you. Going through something like that, enduring it alone…

It fucks with you.

“I’ve made something to eat if you’re hungry.” You say as you open the door a crack.

“Come inside.” He finds himself saying as he sits on the edge of the bed. “I want to talk a sec.”

You comply, closing the bedroom door behind you.

“Joe…” You begin.

“Can I hold you?” He says quietly. “Will you let me have that tonight?”

“That depends.” You murmur as you come to stand in front of him. He takes your hand, his fingers entwining with yours as he tugs you down into his lap. “Are you going to let me take care of you?”

“Baby…” He mumbles, his thumb chasing along the line of your jaw as he looks into your eyes. “I’m sorry for what you went through, that I wasn’t there…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” You tell him, cradling his face between your hands. He closes his eyes, and you kiss away the salt that ebbs down his cheeks. “It’s just something that happened, it’s no one’s fault.”

“I wish…”

That things were different, that we had a baby, a family, a life together. He doesn’t say those words but you know that’s what he means. You wish for the exact same thing.

“I know.” You whisper against his skin. “I do too.”

Love Joe Velasco? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[kamwashere]

today i find out that the x files and svu are in the same universe

[novemberhush]

Oh, I forgot Jared Harris had been in S.V.U.!

[kwebtv]

Andre Keith Braugher (/ˈbraʊ.ər/; July 1, 1962 – December 11, 2023) Stage, film and television actor best known for his roles as Detective Frank Pembleton in the NBC police drama series Homicide: Life on the Street (1993–1999) and Captain Raymond Holt in the Fox/NBC police sitcom Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013–2021). Over his career, Braugher received two Primetime Emmy Awards, as well as two Golden Globe Award nominations.

Braugher started his career acting in numerous productions in The Public Theatre's Shakespeare in the Park. He transitioned his career into television gaining roles in Kojak (1989–1990), The Court-Martial of Jackie Robinson (1990), and The Tuskegee Airmen (1995), followed by leading roles in the ABC medical series Gideon's Crossing (2000–2001), the CBS crime series Hack (2002–2004) and the TNT comedy series Men of a Certain Age (2009–2011). He  also appeared in numerous series such as Thief, The Good Fight, House, New Girl and BoJack Horseman.

In 2006, Braugher starred as Nick Atwater in the mini-series Thief for FX Networks, winning a second Emmy for his performance. He appeared on the TV series House, M.D. as Dr. Darryl Nolan, a psychiatrist who helps House recover from his addiction to Vicodin.

Braugher had a recurring role as defense attorney Bayard Ellis on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit from 2011–2015, and starred as the lead character, Capt. Marcus Chaplin, in ABC's 2012 military drama TV series Last Resort. In 2017, Braugher had a recurring role in season 4 of the Netflix animated series BoJack Horseman as California Gov. Woodchuck Coodchuck-Berkowitz. From 2013–2021, he starred in the Golden Globe-winning TV series Brooklyn Nine-Nine as the precinct captain, Raymond Holt. For his performance in Brooklyn Nine-Nine, he was nominated for four Primetime Emmy Awards for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series. (Wikipedia)

IMDb Listing

[mindibindi]

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

You Feel Like Home

Pairing: Joe Velasco x female!reader

Category: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 1,144

Summary: When a case hits a little to close to home, Joe is there for you and to make sure you feel safe.

Warnings: alluding to assault but no details are given

Masterlist

Taglist

Joe Velasco Moodboard

Gif is not mine. Credit to owner

This case had taken its toll on you, hitting a little too close to home. You sympathized and understood what this poor woman had been through more than you wanted to admit. The brutality of that night played on loop every night. It’s why you’re always on guard, why you had panic attacks, why you haven’t let Joe stay the night, and why you never stayed at his place either. You didn’t want to burden him with your trauma, your nightmares, or being woken up by your screams. You didn’t want him to see you like that.

You did your best to keep your emotions in check but there were times you slipped up, your emotions getting the better of you.

You had been in the interrogation room with Fin when your outburst happened. With one concerned look from Fin, you quickly realized what happened. You had shouted at the suspect for answers — answers to why he did that to you. You excused yourself and raced to the bathroom to recuperate. Unbeknownst to you, Joe and Olivia were watching through the one way glass. The pair shared a concern look before Joe volunteered to go check on you.

You quickly slipped in the door and over to the mirror above the sink. You wiped your eyes with some paper towels from the dispenser and looked yourself over in the mirror. You were a mess. Red, puffy eyes, a runny nose, shaky breaths and your hands had a slight tremble to them.

Mere seconds later the restroom door opened and shut. You didn’t even hear it, too focused on calming yourself down and making yourself look presentable again.

Joe stayed by the door, taking your reflection and watching as you splashed water on your face. Seeing you like this broke his heart. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms but he knew that wasn’t the right thing for you at the moment. He didn’t know what caused your outburst in the interrogation room but your words played on loop in his head ever since you shouted them — “Why did you do this to me?!”

Joe could tell that whatever happened to you must have been similar to the victim of this case. He didn’t want to sneak up on you and scare you, make you think that you weren’t safe. It was this moment that Joe silently vowed to always protect you, to always keep you safe, and to always be there for you whenever you need him. He always cared for you and these feelings you shared for one another were as real and genuine as he had ever felt. It scared him most days but you always knew how to make him feel safe and at peace. He wanted to be that for you too.

With soft, slow steps, Joe made his way over to you. “Can I help?” He softly spoke, gesturing to the damp paper towel in your hand. He stopped to stand beside you but giving you enough space you didn’t feel crowded.

Joe’s voice grabbed your attention. Turning to look at him, you saw his gesture to the paper towel. You hesitated, pondering over if this was a good idea. Those awful flashbacks still banged around in your head, some so vivid you almost couldn’t distinguish between a flashback and reality. You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes in the process and exhaled slowly, opening your eyes. Finally you nodded and wordlessly passed Joe the paper towel. You weren’t sure if you could trust your voice just yet.

Joe gingerly patted your cheeks and under your eyes. He wanted to speak, to tell you whatever happened is over, that he won’t let it happen again but he chose to save those words for later. His top priority was helping you gather yourself, helping you get through this and providing you with a sense of tranquility and safety. He watched your reaction as he cautiously touched your cheek with damp paper towel. He noted how you tried not to shrink away from him. “Did I ever tell you about the time I saw you? The way I felt?” He asked, trying to help you get your mind off things.

You slowly brought your eyes up to his, shaking your head. Once your eyes met his, you felt a wave a comfort and security flow through your body. “Wh-what did you feel?” You whispered genuinely curious.

Joe smiled that radiant smile of his. You always thought it outshined the sun. Joe stopped dabbing your eyes and really looked you over. He knew you probably thought you were a mess but he thought you were beautiful, radiant even. He always had and always would. “I thought you were stunning. So confident. I didn’t know what it was at the time but I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I had a hard time focusing on anything other than you. Now I know that it’s your vibe, your energy, your personality. I saw that passion and determination that drove you to become the most dedicated person I have ever met. It was right then I wanted to know you, really know you. What made you happy, angry, sad, your passions — everything you would tell me.” By this point, your eyes were watering and Joe’s hands were softly resting on your cheeks. The pads of his thumbs gingerly wiped away the fallen tears.

You were overwhelmed by Joe’s genuine words and his eyes had this love and warmth and admiration in them. You brought your hands up to rest on his wrists, your thumbs rubbing over the back of his hands. Joe always knew how to make you feel better, how to make you smile. “You feel like home to me.” You confessed. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You had to tell him.

Joe leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. “That’s all I want.” He felt your arms snake around his sides, pulling him closer to you. He, in turn, wrapped his arms around your shoulders. Joe didn’t care if this sweet moment was taking place in the women’s restroom at the precinct, he just wanted to take care of you and he couldn’t care less about where you were.

You decided in that moment that you were going to tell Joe exactly what happened to you from years past. You knew it would be painful and difficult to do so but you trusted your man with your whole heart, soul, and body — with your life. You wanted him to know, if he could tell you about his past then you could tell him about yours. You stood by him and held him as he shared the deepest, rawest parts of himself and there was no doubt in your mind that he would do the same for you.

[cherryaxiel]

Misunderstood

Character: Chester Lake

Description: Chester seems to have misunderstood your attitude towards him...

Rating: Mature - Strong language

Saturday

2:15 am

Hands frozen, eyes widen, mouth agape. I was just given news that my friend, Selina Mavis, has been stabbed while trying to save a woman from being attacked by a serial rapist. Selina has been a close friend of mine since college, the two of us have been with each other through thick and thin, promising to always be there for one another. Having been so close, people thought the two of us were siblings, despite the very obvious physical differences. With that in mind, I was distraught. How could this happen? I should've been there for her. I shouldn't have let her go to the party alone. I felt so selfish for staying at home this night, I should have known this could have happened. 

I packed my essentials into my bag; phone, wallet, and house keys. I rushed out the door, locking it haphazardly. Many thoughts were running through my mind. All I can think of was how this could have been prevented if I had gone with her. It was all my fault. 

3:00 am

I practically ran to the hospital room Selina was in. The doctors were still tending to her, so I sat outside her room and waited. There were two people waiting as well. I didn't know who they were. They were talking but I couldn't make out what they were saying, I was too deep in my thoughts about the whole thing. The same thoughts playing over and over in my mind, it's my fault, it should have been me, I should have been there for her. The voices were getting louder, but I was eventually brought back to reality by a hand tapping my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" A brunette woman knelt in front of me with a concerned look in her eyes, hands on my shoulders.

I nodded, I didn't want to speak. I couldn't. I looked over at Selina through the blinds. I took a deep breath and sighed. Tears started streaming on my face.

"A friend of Selina's?" The man stood behind her asked. I nodded again.

"I'm Detective Benson, and this is my partner, Detective Stabler." She gestures to him. "We have some questions for you, if you don't mind."

"Is she going to be okay?" I asked with sobs in between words. 

Dt. Benson responds "The doctor says she will be okay, thankfully her injury was not severe." I sighed in relief. 

"It should've been me, I should have been there for her." I muttered. 

"It's not your fault. No one could have predicted this to happen." Dt. Benson reassures me in a soft voice.

It takes me a while to gather my thoughts and compose myself. I explained to the detectives that she was going to a party at another friend's house and I didn't go with her because I wanted to take some time for myself after an exhausting work week. I couldn't help but feel guilty for it.

The detectives thanked me before the doctor came to talk to us, stating that Selina would be able to be discharged later in the afternoon and we were allowed to see Selina. I asked the doctor why she was able to be discharged so early. Apparently Selina wanted to be discharged quickly, saying "The sad atmosphere in the hospital was ruining her vibes,” and was not taking no for an answer. I went in first, almost dropping to my knees while my hands held Selina's. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I repeat, sobbing into her hand. Selina disregards it, asking why I was apologizing and that it was not my fault. I looked up, she looked tired and almost sickly, which added another pang of guilt in my stomach.

"Why would you ask to be discharged earlier? You literally got stabbed!" I whispered-shouted.

"I know but I'm fine now! It's no big deal.” Selina shrugs me off. “Is the girl okay?" She looks toward the detectives.

“She’s fine, thanks to you. We have other detectives checking up on her. We’re glad you’re okay.  We need to ask you some questions.” Dt. Benson responds.

Selina has always been one to be optimistic, and she could move on quickly. She was ready and answered them to the best of her abilities. She needed to provide a statement at the police station later on and she agreed to do so once she’s been discharged.

12:00 pm

Selina wanted to shower and change out her clothes first so I did so too. Walking to the precinct of the NYPD's Special Victims Unit with Selina, I kept her close. She walked so confidently despite what had happened. I was always amazed by her ability to move in a dreary world with such a compelling aura. I had a bit of trouble catching up to her. We were stopped at the entrance of the office and greeted by Dt. Benson, who gestured me to the lounge so that she could take Selina’s statement in another room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man sitting at his desk gazing at us. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t been on an actual date for several months, but his gaze made my heart beat faster because I’m not one to like attention. Whenever I’m walking with Selina, she’s definitely turning heads but I was never bothered by that. It made me like her more, her confident stature vs my socially awkward personality was a good mix, and we complemented each other in a way. I assumed he was looking at her. I tried to ignore him and walked up to the lounge while Selina followed Dt. Benson to a room. 

I couldn’t shake off the feeling as I sat in the lounge. He was pretty cute, but I doubt he was looking at me. I’ve never been envious of Selina, she deserved so much, and I never thought of myself as inferior or superior to her. We had our own strengths and were our own respective individuals. Just as I had relaxed into the setting, the door opens and lo and behold, walking in is him. I start internally freaking out.

“Hey, I was told to accompany you.” He sits across from me. Even his voice is attractive, what the fuck?

“Oh…okay.” I basically whispered.

“Yeah, your friend said she didn’t want you to be alone, and to ‘have the cute one accompany them.’ Her words, not mine.” He smirks with his hands raised up in the air like ‘it wasn’t me’. I groaned.  Of course she would do that. She must have noticed that I was glancing at him. She’s been trying to hook me up with different people but none of them ever intrigued me. “So…” He begins, I’m avoiding his gaze at this point. I feel like I’m sweating profusely. Is it hot in here or is it just me? I take quick glances at him.

“Are you okay?” He asks with a worried tone. I nod in response. “You seem…unwell. Your face is red.” 

“I’m fine, probably just the weather or something.” At this point, I’m so ready to leave, I keep looking at the door in hopes of Selina barging in and pulling me out of this place.

“Okay then…” He flips through the paperwork he brought with him.

“Um, what’s your name?” I managed to ask. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Chester,” he replies. I nod at his response before reverting back to my shell.

After god knows how long, Dt. Benson comes through the door, saying that they are done and we could leave. I stood up so fast, my vision almost went to black because I have low blood sugar. I collected myself quickly, and rushed out the door after saying my goodbyes to the both of them. I rushed down the steps and saw Selina already waiting by the door, with a huge smile on her face. I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the elevator.

“Oh my god, why did you do that?” I whispered to her in an agitated tone.

“Oh, come on! He’s cute, isn’t he? I bet you felt great seeing him right next to you.” She smirks.

“I mean, yes, but I was sweating out of my ass!” I run my fingers through my hair. Selina laughs. The elevator doors open and we walk inside. I pressed the lobby floor button. “Doesn’t matter now, we won’t be seeing him again.” I said, feeling a bit sad at the thought.

“Who knows? Maybe fate will bring the both of you together.” Selina chuckles.

Thursday

11:00 am

I really thought it was over. Selina gets a call from Dt. Stabler that she needs to go down to the precinct to pick out the serial rapist from a line-up. Which means I’m going down to the precinct. Which means I am going to see HIM again. Are you kidding me? You know what, maybe Chester won’t be there. I try to be optimistic about it. Selina and I get dressed and make our way down to the precinct. I’m filled with anxiety at the thought of seeing him again. I drown out the feeling by conversing with Selina, or I try to at least. 

Once we got there, I didn’t see him. I let out a sigh of relief. Dt. Stabler greets us and brings us to a room with a window looking into another room. I stand at the back and watch Selina pick out the suspect from the line-up.

12:00 pm

Once she confirms the suspect, we leave the room. All the relief I felt was immediately replaced with anxiety once I saw him again. He notices me and I look away quickly. I’m sweating again. Selina nudges me with a smirk. “Look who’s here…” She sings. Before I could say anything, Dt. Benson approaches us.

“Hey, Selina? The person you saved the other day wants to meet you.” Dt. Benson motions Selina to the lounge. I wanted to follow suit but Selina says “This is going to be quick, you should wait at the door, (Y/N). Dt. Benson, can you get him to accompany my friend?” Selina has a big grin on her face, pointing at Chester. Dt. Benson agrees to it, though a bit confused by the request. I was absolutely gobsmacked, appalled, and shocked. I couldn’t form words properly and before I could even protest, Selina went up the stairs quicker than lightning. Dt. Benson looks at me with a raised eyebrow before moving towards Chester. I skidaddle to the door and waited outside the area, away from the door. I tried to find the nearest reflection to fix my appearance. Chester appeared from the doorway and I stood against the wall, looking down at my hands and making it seem like I’m busy with texts when really I’m going back and forth between my settings and notes app. Thank god I have the privacy screen protector thing.

“Hey, (Y/N). Your friend asked me to accompany you again.” He stood next to me. I give him a quick ‘Hey’ and a glance before going back to my phone. 

“Do you have a problem with me?” He stands with his hands in his pockets.  

“Um, what makes you think that?” I look up at him, slightly taken aback. 

“Well, you seem to not look at me, actually it seems you try to avoid doing so, and you would have this annoyed look on your face when I speak to you.” My eyes widened. I have a stoic face, which is helpful when I don’t want anyone knowing what I’m feeling. However, people do misinterpret it as me being annoyed, angry, etc. 

“Oh my god, no, I definitely don’t have a problem with you. It’s a misunderstanding, I kind of have a RBF, so I may have looked annoyed but I wasn’t, I swear!” I explained in a panicky voice. 

“Calm down, it’s fine,” he smiles, “but, why do you avoid looking at me?” He rests his arm on the wall with a hand still in his pocket, leaning closer to me.

I looked down again, fiddling with my fingers. I scratched the back of my head before replying. “Well… when I saw you for the first time, I thought that you were good-looking, and you still are, but I got anxious being around you so I tried to avoid your gaze as much as possible.” I looked at him to see his reaction. My stomach is turning.

“Oh, I see…” A smirk forms on his face. He stands up straight, both hands in his pockets again, and stands closer to me. I might as well shit myself now with how close he is. I can smell his cologne. My heart was beating so fast I could practically hear it out of my chest. I held my breath and my eyes darted everywhere but him. “Call me.” His voice is soft and deeper. I’m going to pass out. He chuckles before handing me his card with his number on it. I take it with shaking hands that I hope he doesn’t notice. He lifts my chin up to make me meet his gaze. 

Selina walks out and sees us, which causes Chester to finally release me from his grasp. I finally let out the breath I was holding. He waves us goodbye, giving me one last look before going back to his desk, and I’m left lingering for more. I'm stood there with his card in my hands trying to compute what the fuck happened. Selina is the one to pull me to the elevator this time.

“Holy shit, what was that?” Selina has her hands on my shoulders, waiting impatiently for my answer.

“I'm literally wondering the same thing.” The elevator door opens, and we walk in, except my pose doesn't change, my hands clutching the card. Selina presses the lobby floor button, letting me indulge in my moment. By the time we reach the lobby, I wake up to reality. Selina and I walk out of the precinct, I'm screaming internally, and I couldn't help but actually smile widely like an idiot.

[multifandomme]

Contempt

Pairing: Casey Novak x Female Reader

Summary: Sometimes hate and lust are one in the same.

Genre: Smut, (one bed trope, fingering, orgasm control), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 3.4k

More works from me here. || Masterlist here.

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The night before a preliminary hearing was almost always riddled with tension, though this one seemed to stir something different within you. It had everything to do with Casey Novak, who worked for the opposing side as prosecutor. You had heard of the horror stories, the way her biting words could rile and persuade a jury into a decision, but you had yet to encounter her until this particular case.

Her exacerbation of you had begun as soon as the complaint had been filed, appearing unannounced in the doorway of your office to gloat about the inevitable victory she would soon revel in. You had sworn never to back down, not even in the face of a woman so successful, so mesmerisingly beautiful.

Masked beneath the low lighting of the bar, you had failed to notice the door bursting wide, a few patrons twisting to discern the sudden raucous. The clacking of heels approached from behind, halting beside you as you dared to lift your gaze. Surprise was yet to register, certain that Casey was not yet finished with her intimidation of you. A wry chuckle fell from you, accompanied by a disapproving shake of your head as you ignored her, your attention focused solely on the bottle of beer that pressed to your lips.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Casey greeted, flatly, a stoic expression cloaking any semblance of emotion. “What a pleasure.”

The sardonic tone that she had enlisted almost had your jaw flexing in fury, the chance of a quiet drink alone fizzling out in an instant.

“Have you resorted to following me now, Novak?” You asked, pointedly, unable to hide the annoyance that began to possess you. “That’s low, even for you.”

Casey quirked a brow, a flitting trace of amusement soon cast aside as she settled upon the barstool next to you. Predictably, your question was left unanswered, the blonde preoccupied by the black briefcase that was splayed open on her lap, nimble fingers sifting through documents. Immediately, you outstretched your hand in rebuttal of what she was about to do, sensing another tactful segue about the upcoming case.

“I just want to ask you one question,” Casey insisted, an exasperated huff escaping her when she met your gaze, adamant in your resistance of her mind games.

“And I’m off the clock,” you flared, your forthrightness catching the woman off guard. “If you wish to discuss this case, you do so at my office. Do I make myself clear?”

In a bid to cut the growing tension, you gestured the barman and courteously ordered Casey a glass of red, hoping that the diversion would will her away from shoptalk. Sometimes you wondered whether the woman had it in her to speak about anything else. Casey’s hands brushed the wine glass with careful consideration, her focus intent on the space before her as if drowning in contemplation.

“You can’t possibly believe that your client is innocent,” she remarked, completely undeterred by your prior requests to steer clear of the topic. “The evidence speaks for itself.”

“Miss Novak, if it was my job to cast a judgement, I’d be on the bench,” you stated, bluntly as you stood to your feet. “Take the drink or take your leave. The decision is yours to make.”

Casey scoffed aloud, petulantly pushing the glass of wine out of reach as a means of displaying her verdict.

“I’ll see you in court.”

Casey’s little charade continued to irk you as you made the journey home, heavy breaths exuded as you strolled in haste. The woman had intended to get into your head and unbeknownst to her, had subsequently succeeded. Blaring sirens pierced the continual hum of the city, a series of fire trucks flying by and seemingly heading in the same direction as yourself. In the distance, black smoke billowed into the open sky, thick and sprawling as you raced to pin-point its location.

Luck appeared to be evading you in every sense, shocked to discover that the blazing flames were in fact assaulting your apartment building.

Tenants lined the streets in their hundreds, faces painted in terror, duress as they watched their homes burn before their eyes, left in debris. The damage had already been done, authorities ushering people away to the sidewalk to find alternative accommodation for the night ahead. Local hotels were overrun with an influx of people seeking refuge, your mind carding through the options at hand. It was a long shot, but you were certain that you knew of a place to reside for a while.

Revolving doors led you to an open lobby, bright and spacious inside as you rushed towards the desk to snap up a last minute reservation. The receptionist was otherwise preoccupied, her attention placed upon a man that stood in the queue before you, two large suitcases resting at his feet. Hastened footfalls obscured the faint chatter that existed, your neck craning to note a woman stumbling frantically into the building. For a moment, you had suspected that your eyes had been deceiving you, certain that this unfortunate meeting was a mirage of sorts. The blonde caught sight of you and found herself similarly perplexed, fixed in place as she sighed aloud.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, disappointedly, hoping that Casey had scuttled in by mistake.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she barked, her usual composure slightly off balance as you tilted your head in suspicion.

“There was a fire in my building,” you spoke, the unison in which you did so causing the both of you to step back in horror, the realisation disconcerting for a number of reasons.

Casey paced towards the revolving door, wrangling with the possibility of leaving to find another hotel until she realised the scarce likelihood of such a thing.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist questioned, the sound of her voice calling Casey’s feet into activation as she hurried to jostle you aside.

The woman stared on in confusion as she observed the two of you battling for the upper hand, Casey’s arm outstretched to deny you access to the desk.

“Is there any availability for tonight?” Casey asked, quickly, hazel eyes throwing daggers towards you as you struggled against the menacing obstruction of her arm.

Fingertips moved wildly against the keyboard, the woman’s eyes scanning avidly through the system to complete Casey’s request as you scoffed beside her, enraged by the ordeal. With a polite smile, the receptionist nodded her head and subsequently produced an electronic key card from a little black box, a single document slid towards her.

“You’re lucky, ma’am,” the woman informed. “That was the only vacancy left.”

Pre-emptively, you swiped the card and raced towards the elevator, a grin plastered upon your face as the doors closed, tactfully avoiding Casey. You could only imagine the expression that descended upon her face, disgruntled, though you were sure that it was not the last you had seen of it.

The repetitive thump of a furious fist slammed against the door, unambiguous in its origin. Casually, you pried open the door, leaving a gap small enough to peek around it. Casey fumed, hazel eyes flaring with rage as she barged inside of the room, her briefcase swinging recklessly.

“The joke is over,” Casey seethed, the proximities in which she had incited enough to feel each of her exhalations breezing across your smirk. “Don’t make me have you forcibly removed.”

Casey’s intense reaction was too good to ignore as you sauntered away from her, unfazed, leaping into the king sized bed as if you had been the one to own it. You scoffed aloud, feigning umbrage towards the way Casey’s callous gaze transfixed itself upon you, wholly bemused by your playfulness.

“Lighten up,” you suggested, smartly, the woman’s irises merely darkening in response to the remark. “I was under the impression that you had a conscience, counsellor. Isn’t that why you do what you do?”

A flickering gaze wavered in avoidance of you, the remark seemingly having some kind of effect. Quietly, Casey set her briefcase atop the armchair and swivelled slowly to face you.

“Nicely done,” she bit, sarcastically. “I hope you like sleeping on couches.”

Sardonic laughter sprung from you, half-impressed by how little time it had taken to will her into persuasion. The woman’s only mistake was forgetting the nature of your job, she should have known how unlikely it was for you to settle on the first available offer.

“No deal,” you rebutted, frankly, an almost undetectable smile lurking upon Casey’s lips. “Just admit it, Novak,” you spoke, smugly. “You’re scared that you won’t be able to control yourself.”

Defined eyebrows flew upwards in quirk, half-shocked by the suggestion that you had posed, though you were sure that a silent consideration possessed her for all but a moment.

“Is that what you think?” Casey asked, curiously, riveted as she awaited an answer, fingers propped against her hipbones.

A wry chuckle emanated from you, intent on drawing out the suspense that had gathered all of a sudden. Retreating from the bed, your hands ransacked your work bag to procure an appropriate sleeping outfit. Luckily, you always carried a spare outfit with you in case of an unforeseen emergency at the office. You would have to make do with what you had.

“What I think is irrelevant,” you diverted, an ingenuous simper thrown in her direction as you lingered over the threshold of the ensuite bathroom. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a shower.”

The room was eerily quiet when you re-emerged, Casey planted comfortably on one side of the spacious bed. Drowned in the orange tinted glow from the bedside lighting, Casey’s irises flecked in gold, sparkling as she covertly raked her gaze over you.

“I know how tempting it is,” you riled, faux empathy cloaking your expression as you manoeuvred into bed. “But try and stay on your side, hm?”

Casey grunted angrily, shifting petulantly until her limbs dangled from the mattress, her body teetering on the very edge. The duvet dipped between you, a cold air whipping up from the distance she had opted to introduce. Unthinking, you burst out into a cackling laughter, surprised by just how childish the infamous prosecutor could be.

“Go to sleep,” Casey spat, a disconcerting silence engulfing the room, deafeningly so.

It was glaringly obvious that neither of you had fallen victim to slumber, breaths occluding the silence, sporadic and fuelled with agitation. After a few minutes, Casey sighed loudly and twisted abruptly to face you, finally submitting to her need to settle into a more comfortable position.

“Are you asleep?” She whispered, your eyes gradually opening to the sound of her voice, the burn of her boring stare felt instantaneously.

“Well, I was trying to,” you retorted, half-seriously, neither one of you daring to pry your gaze from the other.

Hazel eyes radiated light, even in the partial darkness of the room, enough to see her attention flicker between your lips and fixating there. Tension lingered thickly in the air, no words exchanged as Casey gulped in the realisation that she had been momentarily mesmerised. The physical sensation of ebbing contempt held you in its grasp, noting the way the blonde’s expression had softened, almost undergoing the same process. Something entirely different had repossessed you, a raw magnetism that saw the two of you subconsciously closing the space, fuelled by an otherworldly passion.

Senselessly, you launched forwards, crazed kisses capturing her plump lips. They were heavenly, soft against yours as you became immediately entranced, addicted to the feeling of them. Forsaking the frenzy did not even occur to you, finally realising why fraternising with the enemy appealed to so many.

“So much for controlling yourself,” you breathed, Casey’s hands fervent as they grasped wildly at your face, urging you back into reconnection. “It’s almost as if you want this.”

“God, I hate you,” she moaned, uncontrollably, her voice even lower than usual and so seductive, every ounce of self-control abandoned without a thought.

Panting breaths emanated into the room as you dwelled in the reality of what you had done. You had expected a wave of regret to rush in and take you under, or at least for logic to seep in and set you straight. Instead, there was nothing, so removed from the consequences of your actions that to you, they simply ceased to exist.

“We shouldn’t,” you insisted, unconvincingly, your body screaming avidly in resistance of the words that you had spoken.

Casey nodded zealously, though her expression was doused in uncertainty. Her eyes lowered in avoidance, as if a mere glance in your direction would reignite her urges tenfold.

“Yeah,” she acquiesced, a heavy sigh releasing from her as she twisted in the mattress, her back presented to you as it were before.

It was then that the regret you had awaited began to infiltrate, your body rigid as you lay in the darkness. Frolicking with the prosecution was never going to be a good idea, but the sheer desire to succumb to such a thing was becoming unstoppable. Your hunger for her tore you at the seams, brain clouded with unholy visions of Casey under you, breathless, begging.

Cautiously, you shuffled towards her, your chest pressed tightly to her back as your lips dared to graze the side of her neck. Immediately, her body jolted as she felt the re-emergence of exploration of her, thrilled by the prospect of you having changed your mind.

“What about the case?” Casey groaned, though it was evident that her mind had ascended to places elsewhere, neck elongated to grant further access to your inquisitive mouth.

“Fuck the case,” you growled, carnal in your exertions as you roughly grasped at her breasts from behind, hands quickly moving south. “I want you right now.”

The blonde hummed in delight, captivated by the way your lips attached expertly to her pulse point, willing the skin further into your mouth.

“And you thought that I’d be the one to lose control?” Casey remarked, seductively, her back arching in desperation as she felt your hand settle atop her underwear, a whine flying free of her.

“Who said I lost it?” You asked, feigning cluelessness as you emphasised her state of submission with a gentle circular motion delivered to her clothed pussy.

The blonde let out a raspy moan, lips pursed together to stifle the countless others that threatened to burst from her throat. And when you halted to assess her reaction, you were unsurprised to find her keening for your touch, fidgeting to gain whatever friction that she could. Impatience rose with every passing moment, purposeful hands ripping the shirt from her back in seconds, buttons scattered aimlessly across the mattress.

“I thought that you hated me,” you chuckled, wryly, a fresh red mark suckled into her neck to reiterate your dominion.

Casey whined out, your words left unacknowledged as the growing ache for touch consumed her.

“Oh, I do,” she ruled, yelping instinctively as you sank your teeth into her. “It’s all the more fun this way.”

Harshened manoeuvres saw her nipples plucked taut between your fingers, the blonde thrashing wildly in response as you rolled the buds without mercy. Her head fell backwards against you, lips messily aligned with each other as you took the opportunity to capture them in a mindless kiss. Casey’s saliva painted your chin, sheer lust overpowering every other though that dared to enter your brain, quickly cast aside by your need to have her, possess her, just once.

“Yes,” Casey encouraged, breathlessly, charged with craving. “Like that, don’t stop.”

Satisfied that the woman had been sufficiently tormented, you trailed across her underwear once more, this time dipping inside to feel her directly. The thin material was sodden to the touch, clinging to her skin as you dug deeper in search of her wanton hole. Dripping was an understatement, your digits covered in hot arousal as you relished in the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” you crooned, unable to hide how impressed you had been to uncover it. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Casey mewled whorishly as you toyed agonisingly with her clit, wanting to torture the woman until she inevitably caved. The tactic appeared to be successful, the blonde’s hips rocking methodically against your hand as she spiralled into thoughtless desperation.

“I want you to fuck me, Y/N,” Casey admitted, unashamedly, her arm encircling around your neck from behind as a means of keeping you in place. “Please, just fuck me.”

The two of you were so closely intertwined that it was suffocating, meshed together so affectionately that it almost seemed to have meant something. Your mouth explored every inch of available skin as you pushed two fingers into her, the sound that fled from her unlike anything you had heard before. The pad of your thumb brushed languidly across her clit, revelling in the way Casey’s body shook and seized, every sound absorbed into your hungry mouth.

“That’s it,” you whispered as you gradually picked up the pace. “Take my fingers just like that.”

You were rough with her, brutal in fact as your digits ploughed recklessly into her needy pussy. The pace that you had set had rendered Casey oxygen-starved, gasping out as if it were the last breath she would ever take. Even in her compromised state, she did not dare to pull away, simply kissing you with more fervour than you could imagine.

“Please, please,” Casey sobbed out, her pleas activating a newfound motivation within you, despite your growing weariness. “I’m close, so fucking close."

The blonde’s mouth hung permanently agape, threatening grunts escaping when your action momentarily halted. Casey was confused, though this feeling was soon drowned out by her overbearing need to be sated, hazel eyes visibly darkening to what seemed to be black.

“Beg for it,” you demanded, your gaze piercing and unyielding. “Beg and I’ll let you cum all over my fingers like you want to.”

Cunningly, you tapped at her clit to emphasise your seriousness, hoping to tease her into compliance as you dangled the possibility of release in front of her. Casey choked out, a fleck of the same contempt you had seen thrown from her in the courtroom passing over her eyes.

“Please,” she pleaded, albeit meekly. “I need it.”

Luckily for Casey, her attempt was enough for you, your fingers working overtime to propel her over the edge. With each reckless thrust, she cried aloud, strangled moans escaping on repeat until she began to quake violently against you, her thighs flexing around your hand.

“Oh, fuck!” Casey shrieked, the volume unrivalled as her lips crashed against yours in a frenzy, her eyes rolling into her head. “Y/N, mhm.”

Delicately, you loosened your grip upon her, your attention reclaimed by the ceiling of the hotel room as you lay in the aftermath. In your peripheral, you could feel Casey’s gaze burning into you as she mirrored your position, silence persisting as she fought to steady her breath.

“Still hate me?” You questioned, playfully, hoping to remove any awkwardness that may have subsequently incurred.

Casey regarded you with a knowing smirk, sheepish as she cast the sweaty strands of hair away from her face.

“Even more now I know that you can fuck me like that,” she admitted, naughtily as she drew the duvet upwards to shroud her exposed top half.

You hummed, a victorious smile bitten away behind pursed lips.

“Oh, you’re very welcome, counsellor,” you replied, facetiously. “Anything to help the prosecution.”

Casey visibly tensed at the mention of her title, the moment of escapism soon abandoned, grave reality crashing down before her.

“This can’t happen again,” Casey insisted, panic-stricken as she frantically lunged for her shirt and slipped into the torn garment.

Sighing, you climbed out of bed and travelled to her side, thwarting her movement with a firm hand. Softly, you traced your thumb across the surface of her full lips, her eyes flitting away in avoidance until they subconsciously fluttered to a close. Trailing downwards, you abruptly cinched your open fist around her throat, a pornographic moan exuding from her. A pink hue tinged the woman’s cheeks, a stark revelation descending.

“I think we both know that it will,” you stated, doubtlessly, Casey’s reaction only proving your point to be true.

Casey’s hands fisted in the material of your shirt, yanking you so forcefully that you landed directly on top of her, your bodies connected as one.

“We’re screwed, aren’t we?” She whined, her arms thrown around your neck as she held you against her.

Chuckling, you nuzzled into her neck, a ghosting kiss pressed to the bruise you had etched into her earlier.

“It sure looks that way,” you conceded, a smirk plaguing your features. “But I’m not complaining.”

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[peauxheaux]

When I tell you this scene solidified my love for this man

[resteasykaryn]

What are you doing here? I work here.

Law & Order: SVU | 7x21: Web

[thiashazzywriting]

Law & Order Special Victims Unit: S25E01 'Tunnel Blind'

[bullet-prooflove]

If you don't min,? Joe Valesco x 10. I love the way my t-shirt is fallin' off your shoulder, please?

Tagging: @kmc1989 @plaidbooks @witches-unruly-heart @Storiesofsvu @rosaliedepp

It’s late or early. Joe isn’t sure which because it’s still dark outside when he wakes up to find you missing from the bed. His palm runs across the crinkled sheets, the evidence of your warmth still emanating from them. He forces himself out of bed, his hair sticking up in unruly tuffs as he opens the bedroom door and pads towards the light in the kitchen in his underwear.

His heart sinks as he sees you, standing there alongside the kitchen island, sipping from a mug of coffee, eyes fixed on your phone.

“You promised I’d have you all to myself tonight.” He says quietly as he leans against the doorframe.

“Something came up.” You say as you pick up your trousers up from the couch where Joe took them off earlier tonight.

“Yea.” He says, swallowing hard against the well of emotion in his chest. “It always seems to.”

“Joe, it’s not like that.” You say as you tug your underwear on underneath the t-shirt, followed by your trousers.

“That’s not what the evidence says.” He says, his palm rubbing over the nape of his neck. “You fuck me and then you disappear in the night, what am I supposed to think?”

“You’re on the job too, you know-”

“I know when someone’s lying to me.” He tells you as you slip your phone into your back pocket. “And I know that wherever you’re going tonight it has nothing to do with the job.”

“Joe-” You begin as you collect your jacket from the back of the chair and begin to pull it on but Joe shakes his head in response to your words, cutting you off.

“If you walk out the door, if you leave me again, then don’t bother coming back.” Joe says, his voice ravaged with hurt.

“Fine.” You say, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I won’t.”

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