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jubshead · 24 days ago

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𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

Paring: Lydia Lebasi x Reader

Summary: A manager’s duty also includes helping your client after a traumatic experience.

A/N: This character is from Episode 11 from season 16 of Special Victims Unit!

This is a request from a special moot of mine, Tea aka one of my favorite editors. I hope you enjoy!

I've got some other ideas for this character if you guys would like to read

Warnings: Mentioned drug use, Mentioned attempted rape, Age difference, Crying, Fingering

Word count: 2.8k

Date: Jan 10, 2025

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist | Taglist

Tag list: @agathasreality @yippie-kai-gay @missquints @live-laugh-love-lupone @amethyst-bitch @greek-freak101 @crescendoofstars @multixfan @im-a-carnivorous-plant @thoroughly--confused @kukikatt @aggieharkness @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @diorrxckstar @liliastriangle @cowboykya @czl4t @daddyriovidal @maevaofendora @thecavalrywife @welmelsblog @nctxrejects @bravewithacapitalb @cupofsapphics @darkangelchronicles @confuseuniverse @yun4-st4rx @kinglet1963 @vigilante24ish @xanthreee @cacasburro @ahsfan05

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

A warm breeze sways the white curtains, the sky is blue and a few cheers come from the front of the building, barely audible at the height of the bedroom. The bird chirping makes you grunt, irritated by the noise and squinting against the daylight, you reach out and feel the headboard for a glass of water. The thirst is accompanied by a throbbing headache, the combination can only mean that you had the best, or worst, night.

Propping up on your elbows, you gulp down the liquid, greedy for the relief it brings to your throat. The water feels like a drop in the desert, there is not enough to satisfy you and, frustrated, you throw yourself back on the bed, feeling a sourness in your mouth.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, trying to settle down the nausea and gather enough courage to get up and take a shower. The slugshiness is typical of these types of mornings.

Sitting up and running your hands over your face, you place your feet on the cold tile and stand up, only taking one step before bumping into something. Looking down, an uncontrollable scream leaves your lips and you retreat back into the bed, panicked gasps constricting your lungs.

Motionless brown eyes stare at you, a corpse lying on the floor of your suite. The man is wearing jeans, a shirt with your face on it and crooked glasses. Blood is everywhere, staining his shirt and making a puddle. You look down at yourself and see that, like him, your clothes are splattered with crimson.

With hands shaking and an anxiety attack creeping up, you try to sort through your jumbled thoughts from yesterday. The night was hazy, the mix of drugs and alcohol affecting your memory and making you look around for answers. Messing up the sheets, you grope the bed in search of something, anything, that would help you. When your hand brushes against a hard object, you freeze, grabbing the cold gun and bringing it into your line of vision.

Oh, fuck.

It was yours, Lydia had gifted it to you.

‘For protection’, she had said. Scanning your body for any injuries or unperceived pains, you let out a relieved sigh when you realize you’re fine, physically speaking.

With your manager in mind, you pick up the hotel phone, dialling and pressing the white device against your ear, you hear it ring.

“How’s my-”

“Lydia.” You sob, unnoticed tears streaming down your face and the hiccups immediately coming out when you hear her voice.

“What happened?” The concern is palpable in her tone, a sound comes from the other side of the line.

Unable to formulate a response with your uncontrollable sobs, uneven breathing and blurred vision, you barely register what she says before she’s hanging up. She’s coming up to meet you.

Time stretches on for what feels like an eternity, in the few minutes you wait for her all the outcomes of this crime flash before your eyes, you still weren’t sure what had happened and you’d be punished for it.

The knocking brings you an indescribable rush of relief. You stumble out of bed and bang the door open, throwing yourself into Lydia’s arms. For someone so short, she apparently has enough strength to hold your weight and pull you inside, intent to give the two of you some privacy.

The embrace is like a warm blanket over you, the shushing sounds she makes are a lullaby to your ears and the hand caressing your hair makes you melt. You grip her clothes with closed fists and sob into her neck.

She rocks you gently, and when the crying begins to subside, she cautiously pushes you forward, cupping your jaw and running her thumbs over your wet cheeks.

“What happened?” She asks softly.

Without the courage to answer, you look down and wait for her to follow your gaze. You can tell when she sees him by the way her touch stiffins against your face, you are quick to grab her hands and hold them in place.

“He was there when I woke up.” You murmur.

“It’s alright, baby. It’s alright.” She focuses her attention back on you. “Do you remember what happened?”

“No, I took some pills last night…” You answer uncertainly, she wasn't a big fan of you using drugs.

She grabs your upper arms and takes a step back, inspecting your bloody outfit. You hadn’t seen yourself in the mirror yet, but you could imagine how much of a mess you looked.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” She stares at you. “At least I don’t think so…but Lydia, if this gets out I’m ruined. My career will go down the drain and I’ll most certainly end up in prison. And it had to be now! Just when things start working out for me, I-”

“No, no, no. None of that.” She interrupts your nervous ramble and pulls you close once again, your arms circle her waist. “All that matters is that you are not hurt.” She scans the room, engines turning as a solution forms in her head.

“Go take a shower, baby. I’ll handle this.”

It feels so good to have someone take care of your needs, have control over every situation. You don’t even protest as you head to the bathroom, if she said she’d take care of it then she would. Lydia was like that.

The shock when you see yourself is expected. What you didn’t expect were the thick drops of blood covering your neck and face, the smeared make up and the still dilated pupils, traces of the night in your appearance. Calming yourself with a deep breath, you carefully remove your clothes, throwing them in the sink.

They’d have to be burned later.

You hear your manager’s voice coming from outside, probably on the phone as she speaks firmly and rapidly. Turning on the shower and stepping under the stream, you let the hot water smooth your worries. You struggle to organize your memories of the night before, you remember the party, the fans, making out with some random woman and, at some point, coming up to your room.

You know better than to mix your usual sleeping pills with alcohol, you weren’t sure why your drunk self did it, but it was certainly the reason why you were having the worst amnesia of your life. After downing them, you can’t remember much more. A faint knocking sound, someone pushing you inside and your weakened state unable to hold the door. The rest is blackness, you couldn’t recall what happened if your life depended on it.

And it just might.

Washing yourself raw, you ignore the noises outside and focus on your bath, running your fingers through your scalp and rinsing the shampoo out, stalling as much as possible. The only thing you wish for at the moment is to be held by Lydia, she would soothe you like she had done before and take care of everything, and in the end it's this desire that makes you step out of the shower.

Your movements are mechanical as you stare at your reflection and brush your wet hair, without makeup you can see the dark bags under your eyes. The movie is being released in a few weeks and what better way to promote it than by throwing the biggest parties? At least that seemed to be the producers’ thinking.

The voices from outside quiet down, you put on the hanged white robe and open the door. The place is spotless. The sheets are new, the floor is shining and there’s no blood covering the furniture, you’d think your mind was playing tricks on you if it weren’t your manager’s tension.

Lydia is sitting on your bed, typing rapidly on her phone. You notice for the first time that she’s in her nightclothes, black pants and matching blouse, a robe over top. Her straight hair is tucked behind her ears, her bangs are out of place and she’s not wearing a single trace of makeup. She looks beautiful.

When she spots you, she motions you to come forward, patting the mattress before standing up. You comply with her unspoken request and sit, watching as she fills a glass of water and brings it to you, crouching down and watching as you down the liquid.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” She says, one of her hands brushing your locks aside while the other rests on your thigh. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure.” You whisper. “I don't remember a much, but I think- I think he tried-”

A sob escapes your mouth and cuts you in half, it’s only 10 in the morning and you are already so sick of crying. It doesn’t matter that the sentence was left unfinished, Lydia understands the situation right away.

She makes shushing sounds and wipes away your tears, letting you get it out of your chest. Your body trembles, your breath comes out in gasps and the hiccups make your throat hurt.

“Are you sure he didn’t do anything? It wouldn’t be your-”

“Yes, I’m sure.” You snap at her. “I’m not crying because of him. I just- I feel overwhelmed. There are so many ways this could go wrong and the possibility of losing everything I've worked for because of some sick jerk is driving me mad.”

Your voice is firmer, the confidence you lacked returning to you at the prospect of having your career ruined.

“Everything is taken care of. There’s no need to worry anymore.” Both her hands fall down to your thigh, their palms brushing up and down. “Relax, okay?”

“I can’t relax! I killed somebody!”

Your relationship with your manager has always been great, there hasn't been a single moment where you’ve yelled at her like you just did. This situation is making you anxious.

“You just went through a traumatic situation.” She squeezes your knees. “Maybe you should-”

“Oh god, Lydia.” You roll your eyes, your body shaking as anger bubbles up in you, the impact of the situation finally settling in as you speak your thoughts out loud.

Fucking asshole.

“What can I do to help?” She asks.

It’s embarrassing how quickly you think of an answer.

“Can’t you help me relax?” You stare down at her, hoping the meaning behind your words gets through to her.

The request is placed in a very dangerous area. As close as you and Lydia are, you’ve never crossed that line, but you’ve heard the rumors about her relationship with a few of her past clients. It was no secret that the woman in front of you put your desires and needs above all else. It was the reason she was one of the best managers in the country.

If you were being honest with yourself, you could admit that you’ve had some sort of crush on her for a while now. So when she doesn’t even blink at the insinuation, your heart skips a beat.

A hum leaves her throat and her eyes roam over your body. Your back is slightly hunched, the robe is rumpled and falling off one of your shoulders. Drops are absorbed into the white material and the wet strand of hair she tucked behind your ear is still there. Your manager is crouched between your open legs, her hands resting on your uncovered thighs.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Her palms travel up, close to your bare center. “Of course I’ll help you.”

Her soft voice is enough to make you relax into the mattress, the pent up stress settling down as your mind gets distracted by the beautiful woman in front of you.

She applies pressure to your leg, enough for her to kneel and come face to face with you. Her eyes are comforting and she gives you a reassuring smile before letting out a surprised sound when you crash your mouth against hers, anxiety getting the better out of you.

The kiss is hard, your breath coming out raggedly as you grab her nightclothes, trembling. One of her hands grips your waist and the other cups your cheek, thumb running over the wet skin and pulling you slightly away.

“Everything is taken care of.” She repeats. “All you have to do is relax, baby.”

She’s the one who initiates the kiss this time. It’s slower, languid as she guides you and sets a serene pace, trying to calm you down by taking her time. The fingers beneath your robe graze over the top of your exposed core and you shiver, opening your legs wider. The palm on your face runs down your front, stopping halfway to untie the white material that hides your body.

She separates, far enough for her eyes to travel over you, admiring your naked form and the way you sit, spread and ready for her.

Grabbing you ass, she pulls you forward, harder than you expect as your bottom comes to rest at the edge of the bed. She leans into you, nose brushing the skin of your neck as her hands move to your breasts, cupping them and ranking her nails over the skin.

“Lydia.” You groan.

A hum reverberates through her, palm bending you back as her tongue runs along your collarbone all the way down to your chest. She sucks on one of your nipples and you whimper, tangling your fingers in her hair and holding her in place.

Her idle hand travels lower, finding your center and parting your lower lips, digits running over your already wet entrance.

“Oh, baby. I didn’t know I had this effect on you.” She says and you can only nod as her big brown eyes look up at you.

She gives you a soft smile and focuses back on your neck, teeth scraping your skin as she holds you by the waist and a finger deeps into you. The feeling of having her inside makes you dizzy, the desire you’ve had for her finally taken care of as she moves, slowly but enough to make you throw your head back and moan.

The movement gives her more access and she softly bites the junktion of your shoulder, your arousal increasing as she works you up. When her tongue sweeps over the mark she left behind, her digit falters as a second one joins in. The pace changes, she thrusts faster into you, the squelching sound of your core accompanying your groans as you hold onto her shoulder and circle one of your legs around her waist.

Any thoughts you had before completely vanishes from your mind as she grabs your ass and pulls you forward, going deeper into you.

“Yes, baby. Let it all go.” She whispers in your ear.

A sob rips from you as she speeds up, your fingers traveling up to tangle in her hair and pull her into a desperate kiss. This time, she lets you lead, swallowing the moans that slip from your mouth and keeping the fast pace as your tongue slides alongside hers. A whine escapes you when she pulls away.

“I’ll take care of your every need.” She tells you, resting her forehead against your sweaty one and hardening her rhythm. “Everything you wish for is yours.”

Moaning at her words, you feel your thighs trembling as you grip her neck, ragged breaths mingling. Her fingers curl up and your eyes close of their own accord, muscles spamming as you pant.

When her thumb finds your clit and circles it, your whole body tenses. Hands bunching her blouse as you hiccup, legs tightening around her and hips undulating to prolong the pleasure.

“You’re mine now.”

The words send you tumbling, pleasure cascading along your spine as your walls flex around her fingers and you melt into her touch. Head falling onto her shoulder as the last shocks of your climax ripple through you.

She holds you as you come down, digits deep inside you, waiting for your approval to pull them out. Her other hand rests in your hair, nails raking across your scalp and making you shiver.

When you feel you have enough sense of mind to separate, you nod and moan as her fingers leave you. The morning adrenaline rush fades as your body loosen from the orgasm, your eyelids growing heavy as you settle into her embrace.

“Lie down, baby.” She says, guiding you to the bed and placing a pillow under your head. “Sleep now, you’re safe.”

She presses a kiss to your forehead and turns around.

“Don’t leave.” You grab her by the hand, practically whining. “Stay with me.”

She stares and you give her the biggest puppy eyes you can muster. She’s always been better at this than you, even if it’s unintentional.

There is no hesitation as she lays down next to you, palm coming to cup your cheek as she examines your face.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She places a soft kiss on your lips. “Rest now.”

And just like every other time, you do as she says, letting sleep engulf you as her arm circles your waist and pulls you forward until you’re resting against her neck, her comforting scent lulling you into a dreamless nap.

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

A/N: @yourbasicqueerie asked me to tell you guys that this isn't beta read not bc she didn't want too, but bc she couldn't do it atm

#I added the link to Tea’s account bc y’all should go follow #you probably already do bc they’re amazing but it never hurts to promote lmaoo #law and order svu #svu #special victims unit #lydia lebasi #lydia lebasi x reader #patti lupone #patti lupone x reader #this probably won’t reach a lot of people but fuck it

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