#sonny x you

[elsfairy]

okay but “trying” to push sevika away while she’s fingering you but it just makes her fuck you harder

like omgggg 😖

oh 😳 (ty for reviving me for my Sevika arc, i love you so bad)

you’ve lost count of how long you’ve been sprawled out on her bed, both sets of clothes discarded into one of the corners of her bedroom, you weren’t really sure where, but you also weren’t in the mood to care. The only things you were caring about and thinking of were the feeling of her lips around your clit and the fingers that have been buried in your cunt for god knows how long. She knows you and your body like the back of her hand— better than you know yourself really. Sevika knew which spots had you trembling, which parts to kiss that would have you whimpering at her touch. She took time to understand how your body worked, and what you liked and disliked. “You taste so good, Sweetheart” She murmurs, voice slightly muffled.

It wasn’t until her fingers brushed and curled against a certain spot that always had you gasping, that your fingers pulled harder at her hair, your thighs clenching around her head and your mouth opened as she pulled yet another round of whines from you. She was quick to smirk against your cunt, and it had you wanting to roll your eyes at her cockiness but your hands always had a mind of their own, already trying to push her away from you, your legs loosening around her head. “Too much—” she’s had you on this bed for a while, so you’re not really sure how many times she’s pulled an orgasm out of you but you were starting to feel more and more sensitive as the seconds passed.

She has always been addicted to you and your taste so she was having none of it, like usual. The woman was also quicker than you, so she was able to pin your thigh down onto the bed without a problem, nails creating crescent moon indents on your skin. Her grey eyes that staring up at you like she was hunting you. “Stop moving, you taste so good and i can’t get enough of you, let me enjoy you, Sweet”

And just like that her mouth was back on your clit, fingers back in your cunt, where she would gladly have them all the time if she could, in just a matter of seconds. The hand still pinning down your thigh and her pace was almost borderline brutal— her pace never faltered even with the amount of times you started squirming under her, pulling at her hair, and gripping at the sheets. It’s pathetically embarrassing to you, how the sound of your cunt fills your ears, her greedy moans coming to a close second. Sevika was simply doing everything in her power to keep tearing those sounds from you until it was the only thing she would ever remember. She was so fuckin’ greedy for more.

“Told you to stop moving, i just wanted to give my girl something nice but you had to act all bratty”

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

˚୨୧⋆｡blushing curse

You sit across from Sukuna, watching as he picks through a book, eyes sharp and focused. The afternoon sun filters through his chamber, casting a warm glow across his skin. You can’t help but smile a little at the sight—something about the way he furrows his brows in concentration makes you want to laugh. You’re not sure when you started noticing all his little expressions, but it’s become something of a habit.

“What are you staring at?” he asks without looking up, sensing your gaze.

You blink, startled, caught in the act. “Oh, nothing,” you say quickly, fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve. “Just… thinking.”

He raises a brow, closing the book with a deliberate snap. “You’re a terrible liar,” he mutters, his eyes briefly scanning your face. “Can’t keep your thoughts to yourself, can you?”

“Maybe not when you look so…” The words tumble out before you can stop them, and you immediately snap your mouth shut, cheeks warming. His eyes narrow.

“So… what?” he asks, his voice dropping into a challenging tone.

Your face heats up even more. “Nothing. Never mind,” you say, looking away.

But Sukuna is undeterred, his gaze sharper than ever. “What were you going to say?” he presses, leaning forward, his expression unreadable. “Speak plainly.”

You bite your lip, regretting every decision that’s led you to this moment. “I just… you looked kind of… handsome. That’s all.”

There’s a beat of silence, one that stretches out so long you’re almost tempted to look up at him. But then he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Handsome, huh? You’re not serious,” he mutters, though there’s an unmistakable redness creeping up the back of his neck.

You catch it, though, and your own flustered feeling fades just a bit. “Oh, I’m definitely serious,” you say, smirking a little at his discomfort. “What, does the King of Curses get embarrassed?”

He clicks his tongue, his jaw tightening. “I don’t get embarrassed. You’re just… ridiculous.” His voice is defensive, and he doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Uh-huh.” You lean in slightly, grinning. “So you weren’t just blushing?”

His gaze snaps to yours, fierce. “I did no such thing,” he says, voice low. But the faint redness is still there, a hint of vulnerability under his usual calm exterior.

You laugh softly, reaching over before you can think twice about it. Sukuna stiffens as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, pulling back to find him staring at you, wide-eyed and completely still. For once, he looks genuinely flustered, his usual confidence momentarily shattered.

“What was that for?” he finally manages, his voice softer, almost uncertain.

“Just… you’re cute when you’re flustered,” you say, shrugging with a little smile. You watch his face, taking in the brief flash of surprise, followed by his familiar scowl.

“Enough with that nonsense,” he snaps, but his tone lacks its usual bite. “I’m not… cute.”

“Sure, sure,” you say, grinning, a sense of victory blooming in your chest as he turns away, muttering to himself under his breath. And for the first time, you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

[onsunnyside]

🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands. 

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact. 

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks. 

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you. 

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying. 

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle. 

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage. 

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him. 

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed. 

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door. 

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes. 

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.” 

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool. 

"Wait! What are you doing!" 

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.  

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears. 

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?" 

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink. 

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?” 

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm. 

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch. 

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink. 

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts. 

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?” 

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes. 

“Oh… It got dirty.” 

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.” 

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete. 

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon. 

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see.  A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be. 

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city. 

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note. 

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his. 

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.” 

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead. 

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery. 

“You liked the attention.” 

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.” 

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books. 

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money. 

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with. 

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.” 

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago. 

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so. 

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise. 

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you. 

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle. 

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window. 

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’  bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business. 

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[cathrrrine]

Perfect / Love Won’t Die

Dominick “Sonny” Carisi x Reader • Law and Order SVU • Domestic Fluff, AFAB!Reader

Summary: Sonny happily holds the bouquet of flowers he bought for his girlfriend only for her to open the door and start crying. He immediately panics, but soon finds himself amused when she reveals the true reason for her tears. AO3

A/N: I’ve never posted any of my SVU imagines, but I had to with this one :) Happy 2024! My resolution is to post more of my work so I’m digging through all my drafts and posting them lol. Enjoy husband material Carisi <3

In all the six months you had been dating Sonny, there were never many problems that couldn’t be resolved with a simple conversation or a hug and a kiss on the cheek. As far as Sonny was concerned, it was the perfect relationship. He had gotten to know all your little habits; likes and dislikes, pet peeves, niche obsessions. Six months wasn’t exactly a super long time but it wasn’t short either. After only half a year of dating each other, he’d confidently testify that he had fallen in love with you deeply, enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you. He was happy to get married, have babies, grow old together…the whole shebang.

Things were going steady with you. He couldn’t imagine himself being with anybody else, and he was over the moon to know that you felt the samw way. Long late-night conversations about the future the two of you dreamed of revealed that you wanted him to be a part of it as much as he wanted you. Sure, Sonny was aware of how much of a (hopeless) romantic he could be sometimes, but that was in the past, and all of those relationships weren’t with the right people. His sisters had been talking his ear off ever since high school, warning him about women that would only break his heart. It made him wince just to think about all the red flags they ticked off angrily; gold-diggers, manipulators, emotionally unstable women, emotionally unavailable women…and the likes of it. That and their own broken-heart experiences that prompted very fuelled lectures of examples of men Sonny shouldn’t follow always rang in his mind, even until now.

He’d also been made well aware of how right they were about his exes with a bunch of ‘I told you so’s’ and narrowed eyes, but those relationships were in the past and he was much, much younger (and dumber) than he is now. He only had a couple of serious relationships in his adulthood, which ended up not being the right fit for either parties. Then, his love life got buried under the heavy, heavy load of police work and law school and he never found the time to make himself available in the dating pool. He was always too tired, too beat, too mentally drained. It was never a priority.

Then everything came to a stop and his whole world wouldn’t do anything but revolve around you. Sonny was smitten, like a lovesick puppy who got shot by cupid’s nuclear-powered bazooka as fate would have it.

He never felt this way about anyone in his life before, it was a feeling he relished in and was adamant on not letting go.

You were perfect.

Obviously, you had your flaws, but all only human, none of them fatal. Like how you had a habit of ordering too much food but he ends up being the one to finish it up when you realised your eyes had been bigger than your appetite — but he didn’t mind that at all, in fact he secretly loved being able to feast like a King — or how sometimes, you would arrive 10 minutes late to your dates on one of your busiest weeks, which he never complained about because he had his fair share of being unpunctual as well. Plus, you always made it up to him one way or another.

You were absolutely perfect, inside and out. Sonny thanked God everyday for sending a woman as smart, beautiful and kind as you his way. He’s never felt so lucky.

Sonny knew and loved everything about you, down to your weirdest quirks. If there was a Jeopardy! game where the topic was You, he’d be waving around his trophy like a mad man. What you didn’t tell him, he learned. It was the same way you got to know him. The two of you were always honest with each other, trust being the pillar of your relationship, it was why you got along so well. You knew how to make him happy, as he did for you.

So, why is it that you were crying as he handed you a bouquet of your favourite flowers as soon as you opened the door to your apartment?

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His sweet smile dropped to a concerned frown, uncomfortable and nervous at your sudden reaction.

There you were in front of him, dressed in your most comfortable pair of pyjama pants and an oversized tee that he was sure once belonged to him, messy hair up that he found extremely adorable. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that…well, you were crying.

He always brought you flowers. Was he late? He glanced at the clock on your wall. No…was it something he said? Something he did? Something…he totally forgot about?

“Nothing- no, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong.” You sniffed, hugging the fresh bouquet close to your chest, dipping your nose into the floral fragrance to smell it only to find that the tears had triggered an onslaught of snot. That only made you cry more.

The bubble of nerves in Sonny’s chest was bursting at this point, he was almost worried he was having a heart attack. “Doll, you’re crying, something’s wrong.”

He held out an arm to pull you into a hug and you eagerly sunk into his embrace. You buried your face into the fabric of his suit jacket, breathing in what you could of his faded perfume. His calloused hands stroked your hair, softly caressing your head as he cradled it. He gently peeled you off of him to get a better look of your face, now red and eyes puffy from sobbing.

He held your cheeks between his palms and you pouted, looking up at him with sad doe-like eyes, and if that didn’t break his heart that he must not have one because the look on your face was shattering him in every possible way right now. One of his thumbs swiped a fresh tear off your cheek, he felt you nuzzle into his hand.

The tall blond gently led you to your couch and set the flowers down on the coffee table before cuddling up with you close to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him desperately, wanting nothing more than to be absolutely engulfed by everything Sonny — scent, skin and biceps.

“You’re killing me sweetheart, you gotta tell me what’s gotten you all upset like this.” You felt him kiss the top of your head and love bloomed in your chest immediately. “Come on, doll, what’s up?”

You sighed, big and loud, huffing away all the choked up tears with one big breath. “I swear it’s nothing. I’m so stupid.”

He was quiet for a while until you felt his voice vibrate from his chest again, “Was it…me? Did I do something wrong?”

You whipped your head to look at him, only to be greeted with a very worried expression.

Oh, Sonny. Oh, sweet heavenly innocent Sonny. How could you not love this man with every fibre of your being when he’s got that look in his eyes? The one where his pupils are so dilated, you could see your reflection in his big, blue puppy eyes.

How could you have been so careless?! Of course he’d think you were crying because of him, the sweet stupid man — God, you loved him so much. The thought only made you more emotional…and just like that the waterworks came rushing back in.

“Oh, God, Sonny-“ you hiccuped, pulling yourself away from him to put your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry- it’s not your fault at all,”

The lovesick, worried-sick man shot up next to you to pull you into his arms once again, stomach churning at the wave of emotions you were going through. He couldn’t even detective his way through this, his mind going haywire with every sniff that came from you.

“Then what is it?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, “Did something happen at work? Is it that asshole again?”

With what he dealt with at his job, it wasn’t out of the question for his mind to be going down that dark path, but he shoved his anger and panic down to focus on your well-being, remaining rational until you were calm.

That made you shoot up to look at him again, words tumbling out of your mouth hurriedly to curb his worries. “No, no! I’m okay, I’m absolutely fine, Todd — that ass — didn’t do anything to me, I promise you, I swear to God. And it’s not you, it’s not anything even remotely related to anything sane at all. I don’t even know why I’m getting all worked up over a bunch of random things, it’s just so—“

“Doll.” Your boyfriend’s voice pulled you out of your rambling. The loving concern that radiated off of him was enough to bring you back to your senses. Gently, he asked again. “What is it?”

You melted immediately, both embarrassed and exhausted from all the sobbing you had been doing. “I’m on my period.”

Oh.

Oh!

“I know, I’m not usually this emotionally affected but my hormones are all over the place and my TV decided to autoplay The Notebook, now I’m a mess.” You sniffed. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have seen me like this, much less deal with me.”

It was only then that the detective noticed the TV screen, paused on Ryan Gosling’s frowning face.

He tried to stifle his amusement, but it came out in a fit of giggles, much to your dismay.

“It’s not funny.” You pouted.

“I just— I thought—“ His laughter consumed him, shoulders shaking as he held up his palms to his face and ran his fingers through his hair, uncaring of how it would mess it up. Sonny leaned back into the couch and continued to laugh with his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was so quiet it came out like a squeak, ashamed of how you cried like a baby in front of him. Although the two of you spent plenty times over at each other’s places and hanging out with each other, over the six months he knew you, you never had your hormones hit you this hard. It wasn’t uncommon to you, but it wasn’t a regular occurrence either, and it certainly wasn’t an event Sonny had the pleasure of experiencing…until today.

“It’s okay if you’d prefer to be at your own place right now, I totally get it. I won’t be offended in the least, okay? I’ll call you in the morning.” Some men in the past have been weirded out when this happened to you, so you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be offended — it was ‘your fault’ anyway, that was what you had grown accustomed to.

But Sonny, the ever-loving and understanding guy, did not share the same view. Of course not! Raised-with-sisters, loves-his-mother, thoroughly Italian, good-Catholic-man-who-respects-women Sonny, would never in a million years ever even think about being upset with you just because your period messed with your emotions. And that’s why you weren’t sure why you were so surprised when he responded to your offer with a kiss.

This was Sonny. He would never think lowly of you because of something you couldn’t control.

“That’s crazy talk, doll.” He mumbled into the kiss, smiling as he continued to love on your lips. “I’d never leave you alone like this.”

You pulled away a bit to properly look at his face, “Really?”

This was the man your heart belonged to. You don’t know how you didn’t explode when he gave you the most charming smile that ever graced his lips.

“Really.”

Everything you were worried about solved itself into place, like sentient puzzle pieces figuring themselves out with confidence.

“You’re too good for me.”

Unabashedly, you continued to make out with your boyfriend on your couch, a newfound appreciation driving you mad with love.

“I’m only for you, babe. Don’t need anyone or anything else but you.”

———

Now that the two of you were freshened up and settled down with mugs of hot cocoa in your hands, you and Sonny were much more at ease.

There was nothing better to Sonny than to be cuddled up with his girlfriend with her head laying on his chest. You practically clung to the arm draped over your shoulder, making a nest out of his bicep for your face — which reminded him of a koala bear, but he kept that thought to himself. He was so comfortable, so happy that this was his life. His nose pressed against your hair, the scent of your shampoo reminding him of a holiday well-spent together in Mexico. Deja Vu hit him the minute he kissed your head, laughing through his nose when he remembered the events that happened just a few hours prior.

“Hey,” he nudged you with the arm you were glued to. You pulled your focus from the movie you were watching — a comedy, nothing that would make the ‘bloody demon hormones possess me’ as you put it — and raised your eyebrows curiously in response. “I’m just wonderin’…”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you cry when I gave you the flowers?”

You groaned, still somewhat embarrassed at the flurry of emotions you attacked the innocent man with. But you humoured the question anyway, “I opened the door and you were standing there, so handsome and so sickeningly charming, holding up flowers that you brought for me. You should be worried if I didn’t cry.”

“Wow,” he whistled. “I’m really that handsome, huh?”

You playfully hit him in the chest with your fist as you resumed your initial position, “Shut up.” A smirk managed to rip it’s way through your lips. “But mostly, I was crying because I was so sad that the flowers were going to die. I don’t know, just weird how my brain works on my period.”

It was a nonchalant mention, nothing big to you, but it stuck to his mind. Flowers dying made you upset. How precious was that? He catalogued the thought, filing it away for the future. The inkling of humour tempted him, though.

“So, not so much on the handsome part?”

You snorted, “Eh, I’ll give it a 60/40.”

“It should be in the news or something. ‘Guy So Handsome, Makes A Grown Woman Cry’” he gestured in the air as if there was a banner.

“How about, ‘Girl So Hormonal, Makes A Grown Man Cry With Her’?”

“Psh, I didn’t cry.”

“You so were.”

“Was not.”

You laughed, thinking he’d given it up when the sound of the movie began to fade into your hearing again.

“You should come over the precinct, tell the guys how I can make the ladies cry just by showing up at their door.”

He wore that goofy, toothy grin you were so accustomed to whenever he was joking around.

You rolled your eyes. Then decided to mess with him. “Excuse me? Ladies? Plural?”

The grin immediately wiped off of his face. “No- I meant lady, as in singular.”

“Mhmm.”

“I mean— no, that’s not what—“

“Sure, Son.” The monotonous voice you used made him sweat.

“You know you’re the only gal for me! I was just joking…hey, baby, come on, look at me…”

———

Months passed by and relationship milestones came and went. You finally met his family on month eight, and him yours. Month ten, you got a promotion at work and thankfully — not by your doing — Todd left the company. Sonny and the rest of the SVU team made a breakthrough on a case, you met his coworkers you heard so much about for the first time when he brought you along for their celebratory dinner. He was teased relentlessly for ‘keeping such a wonderful woman from us all this time’. You enjoyed the camaraderie that they shared with each other, and felt like you won a prize when they extended it to you.

Time passed by you so fast that you barely noticed it was almost a full year since you and Sonny made it official.

The day of your anniversary, he made reservations for the two of you at a fancy restaurant — Italian, of course. You reminisced the journey of your relationship together over some fine dining and a delightful bottle of wine. The ambiance, mixed with the light-headed feeling from one too many glasses of wine, only made the love you had for Sonny so much more emphasised. It was a dream, to be loved by such an amazing man, to have found your soulmate. If you weren’t at such busy points of your career, you’d literally have his babies right then and there. A couple of mini Sonny’s would do the world good, you pondered. Unbeknownst to you, the subject of your thoughts was thinking the exact same thing, only he was dreaming up a babble of mini You’s instead.

Sonny and you walked home together — he had basically moved into your apartment by now, he was finding it harder and harder to be separated from you at night. Having you next to him made him sleep better, and just generally being around you made him feel better — the two of you never made his move-in an official thing, but there was no need to. It was almost like you shared a telepathic connection. Although, Sonny being Sonny, will make the moving in an official thing whether you needed to or not. Maybe into an actual house, with a backyard and a huge kitchen and a family to raise in to make it a home. One day. Maybe even tomorrow. He’d do anything, anytime with you.

“Got you something, by the way.” He grinned, keys jangling on the doorknob as he swung it open for you.

“Sonny, you didn’t have to.” You blushed. One year together and he still had that effect on you.

“Well, I wanted to.”

While you were taking off your shoes, he used it as a distraction to take it out of the hiding spot he so carefully planned — his height being an advantage to said plan — and waddled over in his socks to where you were sitting on the couch, handing it to you once he was sat as well.

It was a daintily patterned gift bag, not too big and not too small either, with a card attached to it on the front. You carefully removed it to read his words in neat handwriting.

Happy 1 year anniversary, doll. I love you so much. You make me the luckiest man alive. My love for you will never die.

You wanted to cry, so touched by his short but undeniably sweet words. He saw how your bottom lip jutted out, the way it usually did when emotions got the best of you, and smiled to himself with a bit of pride in getting his words right.

Slowly, you pried the top of the bag open, only discovering a plastic dome. “Careful.” Your boyfriend noted.

You wondered what it was, going over all the possibilities in your head as you took it out of the bag; lava lamp, necklace, tiny bottle, lantern…only to gasp when you saw what it really was inside.

A small sphere-shaped cactus with a crown of pink flowers, placed inside a white ceramic pot with the words, ‘My love for you will never die’ engraved in cursive writing around it.

Ahhhh, here come the waterworks.

“Sonny,” your eyebrows scrunched up, lips fully pouting now. “This is the sweetest fucking gift ever.”

Your use of words didn’t go unnoticed by the smiling man, earning you a chuckle out of him. “I remember the time you cried when I brought you flowers, and you told me it was because you were sad ‘bout them dying…it’s cheesy, I know. Corny, a bit. But I thought you’d like it.”

The rising inflection of his voice gave away his nerves, but you were quick to make your appreciation known. “I do, I do! It’s just the most beautiful and thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, baby. I’m- Aw…“

You choked up and he took that as his cue to pull you into his arms, careful to set the prickly plant down so you wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.

“It’s true though, my love will never die. You’re stuck with me for as long as you want me.”

“You know I’m shit at keeping plants alive, Son!” You couldn’t help the wavering in your voice, “Oh, but this is just so, so sweet. You’re just too cute for your own good.”

“Well, I was cute enough for you to accept the babbling guy who asked you out a year ago.” The giggling that followed made his blue eyes seem brighter.

“Yeah, I couldn’t say no to that face.”

You took the comfortable silence that ensued as a segue to your own offering to him, “Speaking of this cactus being put at the risk of dying, I’m gonna have to appoint someone to remind me it needs water every now and then.”

“I’m assuming that would be me?”

“Yup.” You shifted around to look through your purse. “So, I was thinking…”

Sonny narrowed his eyes at you, “Thinking…?”

You held out your palm and reached out for his, dropping a familiar weight into his hands. As soon as you pulled your hands away, the object revealed itself to be a single silver key with a brown leather strap keychain attached to the ring, ‘Det. Carisi’ engraved on one side and ‘Sonny’ on the other.

He looked up at you, meeting eager eyes that matched his own. You were practically bouncing with giddiness, excited to reach yet another milestone.

“Move in with me? Officially?”

God, you were so perfect.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

[ameliora-j]

the carnal need i feel for Sonny Carisi to pump me so full of his cum that it still drips out of me hours later mhmm

you choke over another breath as sonny pushes your legs up. he groans as he stands on his feet on the bed. the tops of his thighs press to the backs of your’s as he folds your body further in half—pressing you into the mating position.

a whine releases from your throat as you feel the tip of his cock tickling your cervix. his previous three orgasms from the day leak pool around his cock as he fucks you roughly. “need you to be fucking pregnant” he growls, nipping and biting at your neck.

for every time sonny had cum, he made you cum twice. your cunt now overstimulated as he had used you this morning when you woke up, just before he left for the day, and in his office when you brought him lunch.

now he’s plunging deep into your pussy for the fourth time today. his seed had been spilling from you since 6 o’clock this morning, causing your head to become fuzzier and fuzzier with each time he abused your poor pussy without so much as warning your first.

sonny was like an alpha in rut when it came to your ovulation week, fucking and cumming in you multiple times a day for seven days straight. your back arches high as his thick cock stretches your sensitive little pussy as wide as it can go, pressing his palm into your raw and hardened clit to feel you spasm around him.

“‘m gonna give you my baby, princess… you just lay there and take it, okay?” somny coos in a condescendingly sweet tone. sweat drips down his brow and his usually bright baby blue eyes have become a dark ocean blue—heavy with his lust. “just let daddy breed this cunt” he hums simply, gripping your hips tighter to gain better leverage to fuck you harder.

“just take my fucking cock like the good whore i know you can be. take daddy’s babies from him princess… use your little pussy to milk my cock” he mumbles, spanking your clit a few times as your legs shake. “‘m not gonna stop fucking you like this till you’re nice and round with my kid” he warns, smirking darkly at you.

[aashiqeddiediaz]

#WhiteConfusion

(or, the reminder that Eddie’s husband bestie is literally as white as they come)

[Image ID: two gifs of Eddie Diaz, Chimney Han and Evan Buckley from 9-1-1 episode 6.14, "Performance Anxiety":

GIF 1: Eddie sitting with an empty fork held n the air, insisting to Buck and Chim with two fingers emphasizing his words that, "You guys don’t understand. Vanessa’s Tia Cuca is in on this, too. That’s the combined power of two Tias. That’s huge."

GIF 2: Buck staring confused elsewhere before his gaze slides to Chimney, who is busy twirling pasta with his fork. Chimney shrugs with a quirk of his eyebrows and continues eating, while Buck's expression creases even further before a smile breaks out on his face.

/end ID]

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Hi lovely 😊 Wanted to offer a story idea that popped into my head in case it inspired you. Otherwise feel free to ignore!

The reader has never had an orgasm. She’s had sex before, just has never come. It’s her first time sleeping with Sonny, and he almost effortlessly gets her to come with just his hands. Her mind is blown, Sonny’s shocked that you'd never had one before, and his ego is boosted sky high knowing that he was able to give you your first 😆

Sonny Carisi: Pursuit Of Pleasure NSFW 

I’m so sorry this took so long to get out. I have been in such a funk and have been having a really hard time getting words down on paper. I really liked this idea so I hope I did it justice as I’m coming out of my writer's block.  

You smiled at Sonny as he laid you back onto his bed, his lips kissing and sucking at your throat and down your collarbone. You felt a heat build in your lower stomach. It was pleasant and warm. You knew it wouldn't last. If never did. 

It was his fault. It was nobody’s fault. You simply couldn’t orgasm.  

You could, however, enjoy the buildup before it inevitably faded. You sink into his hot open-mouthed kisses, enjoying the feel of his rough hands caressing your body. The delectable roll of his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your wet center. He had stripped you almost bare. Only your soaked panties remain. His hand snuck between your bodies rubbing you through the cotton material. You arch his mouth that is sucking at your nipple and he bites teasingly making you groan. 

Sonny moves your panties to the side pushing a finger into your wanting entrance pumping it inside of you. Another shortly follows as he picks up his pace curling his fingers deep inside you. The heat pulls tighter in your lower stomach as you unconsciously rock your hips in time with his movements. His thumb finds you clit and starts rubbing gentle but firm circles against it.  

Your nails dig into his back as you feel the pressure build and curl tighter and tighter. You wait for it to disappear. It doesn’t. “Sonny,” You feel strange and out of control as it tightens to a snapping point. You collapse against the bed as waves of white-hot pleasure echo through your body. His ministrations don’t stop and it is almost too much to take as aftershocks of pleasure shoot through you curling your toes. 

You lay there completely boneless and gasping trying to get your neurons to start firing properly again. Sonny notices your reaction and caresses your cheek comfortingly. “You still with me Doll?” You meet your boyfriend's concerned gaze. Then you scan him in disbelief. He had made you come.  

You had slept with a handful of men who had tried to get you off. The more considerate ones had spent almost an hour trying and failing. But Dominick Carisi- he could get you off in less than ten minutes, still mostly dressed using his fingers. That was insane. You could barely believe it and you had just experienced it. “You...you made come.” You were breathless and in awe. 

Sonny’s eyebrows scrunched as he chuckled, “Well yeah, that was the goal. A woman should always come first.” His words were nonchalant.

“It was first,” Sonny still looked a little confused as he nodded along with you, “No, Sonny- like my first ever.” His face went blank and then the look of disbelief took over his own features.  

“Like ever, ever?” You echoed his words in agreement. “You’re a virgin?” Your face flushed brightly with embarrassment. 

“No, I’ve had sex before. I’ve just never- you know.” You trailed off. 

“Orgasmed.” He supplied and you covered your face with your hands trying to turn into the bed. He pushed gently at your shoulder to keep you on your back. “Hey, hey, hey,” He soothed, “It’s okay, it's nothing to be embarrassed about- at least nothing you should be embarrassed about.” He brushes your hands away to press a kiss to your lips. “I’m honored to be the first.” A cocky grin takes over his face, his eyes darkening with lust. “But it won’t be your last of the night. That was just light foreplay baby. Tonight, I’m going to take you on a pursuit of pleasure that you will never forget. And I’m going to start by eating you out until your legs shake.” Your core clenches hard as the flame relights in your belly at his words.   

Taglist:

@polkadotpenguin16 

@pulparindos 

@rebeccapineapple 

[semperamans]

Benny as a dad I — he would be such a girl dad.

g'ah - i can see him being both :(

i can also see him bein' so fuckin' scared because "m'fucked up, y'know? jus' no good. best thing i ever did was somehow get you n'now we got this little one on the way and what if i'm no good at bein' a daddy?" he'd cry over it :( but then your lil sprout would come around and benny learns that bein' a parent means healin' that big part of him that still hurts every now n'then :( he's there for every first: the smile, the giggle, the tooth. n'when they're a lil bigger benny teaches 'em to ride a trike because, "gotta start small, we'll work' ya up to the panhead, though. don' worry. got fifteen years or so, plenty'a time." he teaches 'em that it's okay to cry. tells 'em to be like you n'lead with their heart. kisses every skinned knee, sits elbow to elbow on the sofa watchin' sunday morning cartoons, keeps a picture of 'em in his wallet :( dad!benny you will always be in my heart

[kryptonitejelly]

Hello! LOVED your Sonny Carisi first kiss 😍 How about some pillow talk with our favorite ball of Sonnshine 😏🌞

send asks for sonny carisi x reader (5 sentence baby blurbs!)

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“Yes,” Sonny’s eyes are still closed, his arms wrapped around you, but his answer to your ridiculous question is immediate.

“What if I was a -”

“Yes,” his voice is thick with sleep, but he cuts you off with a quick answer.

“But I haven’t finished my question,” you protest as Sonny’s eyes flicker open. He flips you in one swift motion; you are with your back on the bed, Sonny’s arms caging you in.

“Doll,” he drawls, lips going down to the column of your neck; you can feel his voice against your skin, “the answer is always yes.”

[ofcourseiwillmydarling]

I genuinely don’t know if there’s an audience for this but it’s basically a longer and filthier version of this.

You didnt mind being used, not at all — you weren’t there in chains, or against your will or anything — it's what you were there for.

It started with you sneaking Sonny into your parents' place through your window, him using your pretty mouth to take his frustration out on — after all, it was the least you could do, your daddy was making his their life a living hell.

In the beginning it was just Sonny, but now they share – using your body as the escape they claim works so well. Everyone is using you to relieve some stress – and they're pleasantly surprised at the fact that you're more than willing to have some dirty outlaw crawlin' up between your thighs. You don't object; you just spread your legs even further and let out those pretty noises they love so much.

And then when the police had made life intolerable for them by constant harassment, Johnny decides to try what his friends have been doing from the beginning and the moment he sinks into you in one syrupy, slow thrust he finally fucking gets it.

You're so warm. You cling to his shoulders and he thrusts deep – your body going slack as he drives inside to the hilt over and over again. He glances down at you - watching your cunt spreading apart, making room for him. He's loud. The squelch of each spear of his cock is obscene. Pornographic.

Thats when it comes to him. He understands now. He understands why even Zipco was uncharacteristically bashful around you — begging for that special brand of comfort only you could provide.

All he wants to do is cum inside of you.

This is wrong. It's risky. Your dad being the sole reason for the police harassment. "We'll put half of 'em in jail and the other half in the graveyard." He ignores these worries. He's in too deep now. He's hooked on your cunt - the warmth of it - now that he's had a taste.

My requests are open ! Im thinking about turning this into a series so if you want a character in particular to be in the next part let me know :)

[polkadotpenguin16]

Reminders of You

A/N: Thank you to @misscharlielulu for always making my ideas better, and @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity for making my writing sound better <3

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: none, just fluff

Word count: 1.5K

Also posted on AO3

Sonny stood in front of his bathroom mirror fussing with his hair for the millionth time, trying to get ready for his date with you. It was your third date, but he still worried about making a good impression. You were so sweet, kind, and funny – more than he could’ve hoped for in his wildest dreams. He knew he was lucky to have you, and he didn’t want to mess it up.

Little did he know you’d been smitten since day one.

He heard you knock at his door, and he messed with his hair one last time before coming to meet you. Sonny opened the door to see you greeting him with an effervescent smile. You wore a polka dot dress that gently hugged your soft curves and had a mischievous twinkle in your eye. You always took his breath away. He noticed you holding something in your arms – a small bouquet of sunflowers.

He ushered you inside with a guiding hand warm on your lower back. “Hey, doll, whatcha got there?”

“They’re for you!” You held the flowers out excitedly for him to take. “I saw them at a flower cart, and they made me think of you.” You once read that most men only receive flowers at their funerals. It nearly broke your heart, and you wanted to change that. When you saw the bright bunch on your way over, how could you not get the sunflowers for your Sonny?

He took the flowers from you and couldn’t help but stare at the cheerful bouquet. He wasn’t sure quite how to describe the feeling looking at these sunflowers gave him. A combination of surprise, confusion, and delight. His eyebrows knitted together as he tried to process his feelings. A warm feeling spread throughout his chest.

You saw the expression on his face change and worried you’d done something wrong. “You don’t have to keep them if you don’t want—”

“Oh, no, these are great, doll,” he reassured. “I’ve just…no one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”

“Well, you deserve them,” you told him confidently. When he still looked unsure, you continued. “You make me really happy. I think you’re very special.”

There were very few moments in Sonny Carisi’s life where he was left speechless, and this was one of them. No one had ever told him he was special. And even if someone had, he probably wouldn’t have believed them anyway. But you said it so freely, so genuinely, he had no doubt that you truly meant it.

Maybe he really was special.

Wanting to conceal the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, he pulled you into a tight hug and nestled your head under his chin. “Thank you, doll,” he muttered softly into your hair, trying to mask the emotion in his voice. He kissed the top of your head, then quickly shuffled into the kitchen to rummage through his cabinets to find something to put these flowers in. He’d never needed a vase before. All he could find was an old water pitcher, but it would do for the evening.

He filled it with just the right amount of water, afraid he could potentially drown the flowers. He carefully placed each of the sunflowers in one by one, adjusting the bunch oh so gently so that he didn’t accidentally crush them. Taking a step back to look at the bouquet, he still felt a bit stunned. It seemed so unreal to him that he was worthy of being given flowers. Like if he looked away, they might disappear. He probably could’ve spent the whole evening staring at those magical sunflowers, but he didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer, so he returned to you so you could leave for your date.

The next day, Sonny bought a proper vase to keep them in. He tried placing the sunflowers in different spots all over his apartment before settling on his dining table. It was the perfect spot – they would get just the right amount of sunlight during the day and could be easily seen from his kitchen and living room. He didn’t see you as often as he would’ve liked due to his chaotic schedule, but the flowers always reminded him of. It didn’t matter how awful his day was. Coming home to those sunflowers never failed to brighten his day.

Sonny knew they wouldn’t last forever, but he was determined to keep those sunflowers alive as long as humanly possible. He researched every hack out there – trimming, flower food, soda, pennies. He tried them all, and they did live for much longer than he’d expected. Almost a month after receiving them, though, they inevitably wilted. They resembled potpourri more than flowers at that point. But Sonny couldn’t bring himself to throw them away. They represented so much. They reminded him that he was loved and special.

One day, his sister Teresa stopped by and noticed the sad bunch in their vase. “What’s with the dead flowers? You live in a funeral home or something?” She winced. “Here, I’ll toss them for ya.” She went to dump the flowers when Sonny grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Uh, no, just—just leave ‘em.” He knew it was silly. He had no reasonable explanation for why he wanted to keep the nearly rotten plants other than they made him happy.

“Have you lost your mind?” She stared at him completely baffled. “What would Ma think if she came over and saw this?! I’ll tell you what she’d say, ‘Dominick Carisi, Jr., were you raised in a barn?’”

Not in the mood to fight with his sister—a fight he’d surely lose since she never fought fair—with a heavy heart, he let her throw away the wilted flowers. He still had pictures he’d taken when they were fresh, but it wasn’t the same. He’d grown accustomed to coming home and seeing those happy sunflowers that made him think of you.

The empty spot on his dining table made him a little sad.

When you came by, Sonny sheepishly admitted to throwing them away. “I’m real sorry, doll. I had to toss those sunflowers you gave me. They were…very dead.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his guilty face. “Don’t apologize, Sonny. I’m glad you liked them. They lasted longer than I thought they would.” You could see the genuine disappointment in his eyes that the flowers were gone, and it made your heart melt. Seeing how much he’d enjoyed them gave you an idea.

The next time you met up, you presented Sonny with another bouquet. Only this time, it was a bunch of paper sunflowers. You spent hours and hours cutting and gluing them together. You wanted to give him something he wouldn’t have to worry about dying.

Sonny was beaming with unbridled joy. “God, doll, these are incredible!” He scanned his eyes over the whole bouquet, trying to take in every inch of it. He ran his long fingers across the delicate petals. He was practically vibrating from excitement over this gift. He was in awe of your talent and touched by your thoughtfulness.

You blushed as he gawked over your present, noticing all the little imperfections. “I’m sorry some of them didn’t come out very good—”

Sonny stopped you before you could go any further. You could’ve presented him with crumpled pieces of paper, and he would not have cared. You made them, for him, therefore they were perfect.

You went a little overboard and made a pretty large bouquet, so Sonny split up the bunch. He replaced the empty vase on his table. He kept a couple next to his bed. He placed one on the dash of his truck. He even brought some to leave on his desk at work. That way, anywhere he went, he would have a reminder of you. The sunshine of his life.

Sonny received a couple of curious glances when he brought the flowers to the station. “Oooh, looks like someone got flowers,” Amanda teased.

“They’re from my girlfriend,” he proclaimed with a big smile as he fiddled with the bunch, making sure they sat just right in the small mason jar he brought to keep them in.

“She’s buying you flowers?” Fin examined the bouquet. “She paying for dinner, too?”

Amanda got up closer to look at them. “They’re…paper?”

“Yeah, she made them! Aren’t they amazing?”

“Sure…for an arts and crafts project,” she snarked.

 No amount of ribbing could dampen Sonny’s joy. He proudly displayed your sunflowers at his desk and was quick to tell anyone who would listen that you’d made them.

You were glad to have given something to Sonny he’d loved so much, but you never truly knew the depth of how much it meant to him. Something as small, as mundane, as a few sunflowers changed his whole world. They showed him how much you loved him and helped him learn to love himself.

[sonnyangeluvrrr]

˚୨୧⋆｡just one bite

The aroma of Sukuna’s food wafts over to you, rich and tempting, and you can’t help but lean a little closer, curiosity getting the best of you. He notices, of course, shooting you a quick side-eye as you inch closer, a small pout forming on your lips.

“Can I just have one bite?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He rolls his eyes, a smirk already tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No, I’m not going to give you a bite.”

“Why not?” you ask, crossing your arms and looking at him with wide eyes, playing up your innocence.

He raises a brow, leveling you with a look that tells you he’s not buying it. “Because I know you’re not gonna like it. Then you’re going to ask me how the hell I like it, and I don’t want to listen to that right now.”

You blink at him, a little taken aback but also amused. “Oh, so now you’re a food psychic?”

He huffs, leaning back in his seat and taking a deliberately slow bite. “I’m just smarter than you give me credit for. Go ahead and prove me wrong.”

Challenge accepted.

You reach over, taking a forkful of his food before he can stop you, lifting it to your mouth confidently. But the second it hits your tongue, the taste catches you off guard. The bitterness mixes with a heat that’s almost overwhelming, and you try not to make a face, swallowing it down as casually as you can manage.

Sukuna watches you with that knowing smirk, his eyes gleaming with amusement as you struggle to mask your reaction.

“Good?” he asks, a single eyebrow raised.

“…It’s, um, interesting,” you say, trying to salvage your dignity. “Definitely… bold.”

“Interesting,” he repeats, a chuckle escaping him. “Just say you hate it.”

You bite your lip, glaring at him half-heartedly. “Fine. How do you eat this?”

He shrugs, taking another bite with ease. “I guess I just have better taste.”

“Oh, sure,” you tease, “and what is that, acquired taste for terrible food?”

A low laugh rumbles from him, and he leans in, his voice dropping to a playful, almost challenging tone. “You’re the one who wanted a bite, brat.”

You can’t help but laugh, finally giving in. “Alright, alright. You win this one.”

He smirks, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he goes back to his food. But just as you’re about to turn away, he pauses, spearing another bite on his fork and holding it out to you.

“Here,” he says, his tone softening just a bit. “Try this piece. It’s not as bad as the last one.”

Surprised, you take it, feeling a strange warmth from the small gesture. The flavor this time is milder, easier to enjoy, and you give him an approving nod.

“See?” he says, looking at you with a rare, almost hidden softness in his eyes. “Maybe you just needed the right bite.”

And with that, he goes back to his meal, a faint smile lingering on his face as you sit there, heart pounding just a little faster than before.

[onsunnyside]

thinking of JJ teaching you how to kiss 🥺 starting off with little pecks that slowly drag into short kisses. you try hard to follow his lead, but your inexperience is so painfully obvious 😖

this drabble has been turned into a fic 😋 here’s the masterlist: what friends are for

allow me to set the scene: it’s movie night at the chateau, beers and snacks litter the floor, everyone is tucked under blankets as the opening credits flicker on the television screen.

as the marathon went on, JJ couldn’t help but notice that you’d look away during the sex scenes. as your best friend, he knew you weren’t the most experienced, but kissing? “You’ve never been kissed?”

You cover your face, embarrassment flooding in. “You don’t have to say it like that!”

“I’m not—I’m not teasing.” His smile says different. He easily pulls your hands away from your face, “it’s just not what I was expecting.”

“I know, I know. You probably find it so funny.” You huff and roll your eyes, “laugh all you want, jerk.”

And like you expected, he does but quickly apologizes. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But not in a bad way! It’s actually cute.”

Cute?

“It’s adorable.” He coos, pinching your cheek, “itty bitty baby hasn’t had her first kiss… not even with that poster in your bedroom?”

ooohh and when he kisses you: it’s so sweet, so tender. he tastes like beer and a bit of weed, and his lips are softer than they look. he’s slow and steady, pressing his forehead against yours while you take a break.

“You can breathe while we kiss.” He chuckles, nudging your nose with his, “don’t want you passing out on me, sunshine.”

One of his hands slip behind your neck and the other falls to your thigh, warm and gentle. “Do you want to stop?”

You glance at your friends, still passed out on the floor and other couches, the movie playing dully in the background. “No?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“No.” You repeat, firmer this time. “I don’t want to stop. Pl-Please don’t stop.”

How could JJ deny you? Especially when you ask so dreamily with that glazed look in your eyes. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and touch you all over, and make you into a pretty mess. So he connects your lips again, taking the lead and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The unmistakable wet noises make you a little tingly 😖 along with him tilting your head to kiss you deeper. “You can touch me too,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to the back of his neck, your fingers automatically curl in his blond hair and draw a low groan from his throat.

That’s when you go completely dumb, totally thoughtless, all concerns flying out of your mind and joining the blue birds above your heads.

JJ pulls away, voice raspy, “you keep forgetting to breathe, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” you exhale heavily, heart fluttering in your chest. “I’m not good at this yet.”

His lips trail to your jaw, the movie long forgotten, “It’s okay, we have lots of time to practice.”

I just know he’d offer to teach you other things too, all in the realm of pleasure and intimacy 😌

some over the clothes touching, getting hot and heavy in your bedroom after he sneaked in through the window:

“You gotta keep quiet, baby,” he coos, rubbing your swollen clit through your panties, your juices soaking the poor cotton, “I know it feels good, feels real nice when I play with your pretty pussy, huh?” He can only imagine how you’d taste, “Are you paying attention? You’re gonna have to show me what you learnt after we’re done.”

[winchesterszvonecek]

Can we get an Only 1 Bed fic- for whoever you first think of

The Motel - [ Sonny Carisi ]

Summary: You and Sonny arrive at your motel only to find out that your room…only has one bed

Word Count: 2435

Warnings: female!reader, fluff

Masterlist | Sonny Masterlist

It was late by the time you and Sonny arrived in Pennsylvania. Too late to do anything other than check into the nearest, cheapest motel and hopefully get a few hours of sleep before you had to head off again to track down your suspect. Normally in cases like this, you’d have both gotten your own rooms to venture off to sleep in, despite having been partners for years and experienced a hell of a lot more together than a simple slumber party.

However this time, things were a little bit different in that particular department. For starters, the motel you’d come across was small. Like a mere handful of rooms, kind of small, meaning that by the time you had arrived and checked in, there was only a single room left on the entirety of the property.

It wasn’t that surprising honestly, given that it was the time of year when everyone was venturing off on their road-trip vacations and stopping to sleep in every single town they passed through. It didn’t bother you either. You were that exhausted you could have happily slept on a log on the side of the road if it meant getting to close your eyes for even just a brief minute.

Luckily, that wasn’t the case here as you’d managed to secure that last room for yourselves. There was only one slight problem, though. One you didn’t see coming and one the check-in clerk had seemingly forgotten to mention. Or he had simply assumed you and Sonny were a couple therefore neglected to, and that was…

There was only one bed.

“The check-in guy didn’t think to mention that?” Sonny muttered with a minor grievance the second he followed you inside the rather stagnant motel room, closing the door behind him and sliding the safety chain securely into place.

By the time he turned around, you had already set your bag on the large double bed and taken your coat and shoes off, your toes wiggling against the worn-out old carpet as you stretched them out from being stuck in your boots for almost a full twenty-four hours. He glanced around him as you did, his lips falling minutely as he reluctantly set his bag atop the small, barely even a couch, loveseat that he gazed questionably at.

Now there’s something that would be less comfortable than a roadside log, that much he was certain of.

“I guess I’ll take the couch,” Sonny exhaled, slipping his arms from within the soft warmth of his coat as you spun around to face him, your brow furrowing deeply as your eyes landed on the ‘couch’ in question.

You let out a laugh, “Sonny, are you crazy? You’re like seven feet tall, there’s no way that will be comfortable… You take the bed, let me sleep there.”

Lifting your bag from the bed, you moved towards him and picked his up from the arm of the chair, holding it out for him to take. He refused, causing you to sigh exasperatedly as you shook it, widening your eyes to try and encourage his stubborn ass to take it from you.

“Absolutely not,” Sonny protested, raising his hands up as though he were surrendering — when in reality it was simply to stop you from shoving the bag into them. “My mother would smack me upside the head if she found out that I made you sleep there.”

“Who’s gonna tell her?” You tilted your head questionably, finding amusement when Sonny simply frowned in response. He hadn’t thought about that. You set the bag down, its weight from whatever the hell was in it causing your arm to grow numb, and you chuckled, “That’s what I thought. Now move your skinny ass, okay, I’m perfectly capable of sleeping on a couch for a couple of hours.”

Like a child, Sonny shook his head and refused to move so much as an inch away from the couch. He even shoved you away and instead directed you back over to the bed, the back of your legs hitting against it frame and causing you to lose your balance. You fell onto it softly, the springs squeaking beneath you as you straightened and did nothing but watch Sonny lift a blanket from the back of the couch and begin unfold it.

Even the blanket didn’t look big enough to fully cover him, and you knew he wouldn’t sleep so much as a wink tonight if he stayed there. But you also knew it would be pointless to keep arguing with him. He was stubborn, and proud, and you were far, far too tired to keep going relentlessly back and forth with him. So instead you gave in, unzipping your bag with a quiet sigh and grabbing what you needed before heading for the bathroom.

When you ventured back out after doing your nightly routine as best you could, Sonny was already lying rigid on the couch, like he was afraid to move so much as an inch incase the blanket slipped off the small part of him it actually covered. You deposited your stuff into your bag in silence then sat down on the edge of the bed, folding your arms as you drew your eyes along the entire length of his body.

“Sonny, seriously…” You began, gaining his attention and noticing the way he seemed surprised to see you. As though he’d been hoping to be ‘asleep’ by the time you got back in order to avoid the very conversation you were about to begin. “The entire lower half of your legs are hanging over the arm of that couch, will you please let me sleep there?”

“No way, alright? I’m fine,” Sonny replied, almost sternly as he shuffled a little more then sighed contently — which was obviously forced as boy was he uncomfortable. “See, I’ve already got myself settled.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, it really looks like it.”

“Will you just forget about me and get some sleep, please?” Sonny gestured to the bed, “You’re running on fumes and besides, we’ll only be here for a couple hours anyway.”

“Fine,” You sighed, standing up from the bed and rounding it to the side furthest from the door.

You pulled back the covers, giving the bottom sheet a quick once over for any stains or creepy crawlies that may be lurking beneath it. You were honestly tempted to pull out a black light and check it properly, but then again you’d rather not think about what that would reveal and instead, decided to just bite the bullet and get into it. Only, before you could slip in between the cold, crisp sheets, you caught sight of Sonny stretching. He let out a rather rough sounding groan as he did…then nearly wrecked the coffee table by almost falling off the couch.

“If this is how it’s going to be with you all night, then I’m going to go out and sleep in the car,” You said, folding your arms as you peered over at him, watching as he fixed himself back into the cushions and glanced towards you apologetically. He then grew stiff as a board — as though he were afraid to move should you shout at him again. You let out a soft sigh, your shoulders sinking as you dropped your arms back down to your sides. “Sorry, I get cranky when I’m tired.”

“I know,” Sonny said, shifting a little and trying his hardest not to showcase it. But you saw him. He wasn’t at all subtle and you could easily notice the slight grimace to his features when he moved the wrong way and his calf began to tense up.

“Sonny, you’re clearly uncomfortable,” You said, fiddling with the sleeves of the hoodie you always wore to bed at the thought of speaking your next words out loud. But you knew you had to. You wouldn’t sleep at all if you knew he would be spending the entire night like this. “If you’re not gonna let me take the couch, then… Why don’t you join me?”

Sonny nearly choked on his own saliva, “I’m sorry?”

“Sleep in the bed with me. It’s big enough,” You said, gesturing to the large bed that would be far more comfortable for a man of his height. And Sonny knew it. He’d been eyeing it up from the moment he entered the room, yet he still almost looked like he was about to throw up. At that you raised your eyebrow, your tone turning playful so quickly, it almost gave you whiplash. “What? Are you scared your mother might find out you’re sleeping with a girl?”

“My mother? Nah, but my grandma…” Sonny widened his eyes a little as he shook his head, not even wanting to imagine his grandmothers reaction. “She’s a lot more traditional than I am and sleeping in the same bed as a woman I’m not seeing is…

“Against her Catholic beliefs?”

Sonny scoffed, “You have no idea.”

“Well I’m not gonna tell her,” You said, climbing into the bed and resting on your knees. “And I know you’re definitely not gonna tell her, so why not? We’re both adults. We’re perfectly capable of sleeping in the same bed together if it means we both actually get a few decent hours of sleep.”

“I mean… I guess,” Sonny said hesitantly, scratching at the back of his head as he sat up, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered terribly at the thought of finally getting to sleep beside you. He stood up, his heart warming at the unintentionally sweet smile you gave him as he crossed the room towards you in a few long strides. He pulled back the other side of the covers, waiting until you’d settled yourself before he made his move to climb in beside you, where he immediately joked, “You better keep your hands to yourself otherwise I’m arresting you.”

You chucked softly, “I think I can manage that.”

Sonny couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he fell deeper into the sheets that covered you both. He already felt about a hundred times comfier than he had been on the couch, exactly like you’d guessed he would be now that he could stretch out fully. Even despite the poor quality of mattress the two of you lay side-by-side atop, the middle of which was completely free of space with the way you both hugged the edge of it, as though you were afraid to so much as brush fingers given the unspoken feelings you both had for one another.

It wasn’t that you were purposely keeping them to yourselves for the sake of misery, it was more of a… Neither of you fully realised that the other one felt the same. Everyone else did, though, it wasn’t hard to. You were both practically a couple already despite your hesitance to share a motel room, yet the two of you were simply too blind to see it. But that didn’t mean you both couldn’t feel it. It was so thick in the air around you that it would be impossible not to, but whether or not you both truly picked up on it whilst conscious was the the sixty-four million dollar question.

Subconsciously, however, well… That was a completely different story and not at all a surprising one.

You didn’t realise it until you woke up about four hours later, but you had drifted dangerously close to Sonny in your sleep. Or he’d drifted closer to you. Maybe even both. You weren’t overly sure who was at fault here. All you knew was that you were both now smack bang in the middle of the bed, your legs somehow tangled together and Sonny’s long arm draped loosely over your body. Even your head was resting on his chest, feeling as it gently rose and fell beneath you with each quiet, slumber-ridden breath he took.

You felt your cheeks heat up the split second you realised what — who — your pillow was. You had no idea how you’d even managed to grow so close to him. You were normally a pretty still sleeper so to find yourself so far from where you’d started was honestly somewhat of a shock to you. All you really knew was that you needed to move before Sonny woke up and found you like this, otherwise you’d never live down the embarrassment you’d get over him realising that you’d all but used him as a teddy bear.

“What’s going on?” Sonny mumbled, his sudden, sleepy voice making you freeze in your attempts at untangling yourself from his long and lanky limbs. He cracked open one eye, glancing down at you with such a softness that you almost melted against him, a wave of…God, literally everything you could feel at once washing over you at being caught in this position. “You tryna escape me, darlin’?”

Darlin’. Fuck, if you hadn’t been melting already, you certainly would be now.

“I don’t know how I ended up so close to you, I’m sorry,” You mumbled almost frantically, attempting to pull yourself away from him only for Sonny to tighten his arms around you.

“Don’t go anywhere,” He whispered, seemingly wide awake now as he raised his hand, drawing his knuckles lightly down the side of your face. “Stay with me.”

“Sonny, I don’t…”

“Stay,” His thumb landed on your lips and you fell silent, his eyes gazing into yours in a way that gave you such intense butterflies. “Please.”

All you could in response was nod your head and smile as you didn’t trust your own voice not to give you away, especially with the thick lump that was currently trying to force itself up your throat and escape out into the air. Sonny’s own lips curled up softly as he easily tugged you closer to him, feeling as your arm tightened across his chest and you positioned your head beneath his chin. He tilted his own down to glance at you, nothing but the top of your head visible to his tired eyes and even in that moment…

Even with him being half asleep and out of his mind, just having you this close to him without him even having to try hard to get you there, was like his entire heart had exploded in his chest. He smiled again, leaning down and without taking so much as a single second to think about it, he placed a soft kiss to the top of your head and whispered,

“Perhaps one bed isn’t so bad, after all.”

Like Sonny? Apply to his tag list so you don’t miss out on his works!

tagging: @yousigned-upforthis @polkadotpenguin16 @AllAboutFluff @notthatbibble @bvd13

Like my work? Consider buying me a coffee!

[ameliora-j]

imagine after weeks of breeding you Sonny has gotten you pregnant and now that the initial morning sickness is over (during which he tended to you basically on his hands and knees, making sure he did everything he could to make you feel better) you are now GLOWING. you have just started showing, the tiniest bump, and now the horny phase has started. and youre absolutely insatiable, even more than before, if thats even possible. you want him ALL THE TIME. you cant even let him walk out of the room without whining for him to come back and fuck you again. and hes even crazier about you now and absolutely WORSHIPS you, like you both didnt think it was possible to be even more into each other but the fact that youre carrying his baby is just too much for the both of you 🔥

content: pregnant!reader, smut, porn with little plot tbh, pregnant sex, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI

sonny calls you from his office, asking you to bring over one of his files and also asking if you’d like to have lunch with him. you’re slightly grumpy with him because he didn’t wake you up to let you know that he was leaving—didn’t give you a morning kiss or a morning cuddle. he said you loomed too peaceful.

you walk into his office, file and bag from the bodega in hand. his assistant lets you in easily, letting you know he’s finishing up his arraignment and you can wait for him in his office. you don’t bother setting up as you wait, knowing he was sending abby on lunch as soon as he cane back and you’d have him all to yourself.

just as predicted, you hear abby telling your husband ‘goodbye’ as he steps into his office, letting her know to take the hour for lunch. “there’s my pretty girl!” sonny smiles brightly as he sees you.

“cock. now” you demand, crossing your arms with a deep frown. sonny chuckles, gently standing you up and pulling you into his arms. he sets the food on one of his side tables, sitting you on the desk as he kisses you slowly. you whine quietly as his tongue licks inside your mouth, large hands easily spreading your legs.

“you’ve been so fucking horny lately…” he mumbles in your ear. “begging for my cock right after i pump you full of my cum” he whispers. “tell me gorgeous, whose baby is this?” he smirks, pushing your sweatshirt—that was actually his college hoodie—up to show your little bump.

“your’s daddy… ‘m havin your baby” you whine, letting out a loud moan as he bottoms out in your sopping cunt with one motion.

“scream it when you cum for me, doll” he smirks, beginning to fuck you, slow but hard.

[sematarygirls]

God Complex — Sonny Carisi.

pairing: sonny carisi x fem!suspect!reader (sort of in a clarice and hannibal lecter sort of way)

summary: the special victims unit finally catch the woman who has been wreacking havoc on new york city by targeting convicted rapists and brutally killing them. detective carisi is assigned to interrogate you, and he can't help but find your mind eerily fascinating.

warnings: very dark; viewer discretion advised, graphic depictions of murder, mutilation, castration, and torture, mentions of rape, mentions of dead animals, mentions of suicide

word count: 6.1k words !

a/n: i feel like i wrote a shit ton, but it still somehow feels rushed??? also i accidently wrote this whole thing in lowercase, and i don't feel like going through and fixing it all, so my apologies 🙏

  ／ your bare feet padded against the cold tile of your apartment as you made your way to the kitchen sink. a blank expression settled onto your features as you listened to the constant plop, plop, plop of water droplets falling from the faucet.

the paint was peeling, the walls dingy and grey, which only added to the lifeless atmosphere around you. the air was cold, goosebumps raising on your skin as you stared at the leaking sink. your grip on the counter tightened, knuckles going white under the pressure. you felt your control slipping, and that was never a good sign. you would get careless, sloppy, and that just wouldn't do. you had to act before the urges consumed you completely.

you'd always had these urges, always had a sick fascination with death. when you were younger, you would seek out roadkill, watching with curious eyes as maggots devoured decaying flesh while the scent of death permeated the air. It shouldve sickened you. you shouldve screamed and covered your mouth in horror like any other little girl would have—your heart breaking for the poor little animal sat at your feet—but you never did.

as you got older, that fascination extended from just animals to the human body. you wondered what it would be like to wrap your hands around someone's neck and feel the life leave them. you wondered how it would feel to plunge a knife into someone and feel the hot, sticky blood on your skin. you fantasized about it, about what it would feel like to be completely and utterly in control of whether someone lived or died.

you took a deep, shuddering breath as you released your grip on the counter. you turned the sink on, splashing some water on your face. the ice cold water felt like it went directly into your veins, shocking you from the walking haze you'd been in.

you sighed, running your wet hands over your face. it was too soon to kill again, but you needed to. your hands were growing restless, aching to feel the handle of your knife as you stabbed your helpless victim over and over again, their pleas and cries for you to stop like a front row seat to a symphony meant just for you.

"god dammit," you muttered, turning the sink off and spinning around. you squeezed your eyes shut, the sound of the water droplets continuously hitting the metal basin reverberating in your ears. you needed out of this apartment.

your eyebrows furrowed, a frown pulling at your lips as you headed to your bedroom. you pushed inside, shoving the door so hard that it smacked against the wall and bounced back. you didn't pay this any mind as you went to your closet, removing the false back you'd installed and grabbing your murder kit.

it was a large black purse, fairly unassuming for someone in new york, and especially unassuming with an innocent looking girl like yourself holding it. inside, however, was an assortment of items including knives, pliers, a small hammer, duct tape, and rope, among other things. you threw the bag onto your bed, slipping your shoes on.

you knew exactly who your target would be. dennis hellerman had just been released on parol for the rape of a fourteen year old girl whom he'd left so traumatized that she needed to be admitted to a mental institution after a suicide attempt.

just thinking about what he'd done—let alone the fact that he was released on parol after serving just two years in prison—made your blood boil. you wanted him to feel the fear that she had undoubtedly felt. you wanted him to beg and plead for his life as you pulled each fingernail from his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace, and then, you wanted to kill him.

you stood up, grabbing your purse and heading toward your bedroom door. your boots echoed across the floor as you walked to the front door. you unlocked the deadbolt and the various other locks that you'd installed lining the wood before pulling it open and stepping out. the door slammed behind you with more force than you'd intended, but you didn't care. you simply stuck your key in the lock, turned it, and headed toward the elevators.

the man was living in a homeless shelter for sex offenders which made him extremely easy to find. he was also working a job at a small, understaffed autobody shop. it was almost too easy.

"what's a sweet thing like you doing out this time of night?" his voice came from behind you as you stood bent over behind your car, pretending to be confused.

you had spent a while tracking his every move and devising the perfect place to lure him into your trap. you'd learned that the cameras outside the rundown autobody shop and most of the surrounding buildings didn't work which was oh so convenient for you. it was like the universe was begging you to take care of him.

"oh, hello there," you giggled, putting on your innocent act. "gosh, i am such a ditz when it comes to cars, but i think something's wrong," you pouted, turning back to your car and propping your hands on your hips.

"let me take a look and see if i can fix that for you, darling," he said, flashing you a sleazy smile. "but, it'll cost you."

"oh, sure, anything," you nodded, pretending to be oblivious to his innuendo. if you had any reservations before about what you were going to do—which you didn't—you sure as hell didn't now. "just, please, i really need my car."

he grinned, leering at you in a way that made you want to kill him right there, but you held back. instead, you pointed vaguely to a spot on the back of your car. "i think i see something leaking there."

he hummed, stepping forward to take a look. he leaned down, squinting. "i don't see anything."

"no, i promise just look," you insisted, reaching into your pocket and pulling out s syringe. he kept looking, too preoccupied to notice that you'd stepped behind him. just as he was about to turn around, you stuck the syringe into his neck and pressed down the plunger to send the paralytic into his bloodstream.

he let out a yelp of pain, his hand covering the spot on his neck as you pulled the syringe away. as his limbs started to turn to jello underneath him, you gave him a hard shove forward, making him collapse halfway into your trunk.

you groaned softly as you picked up his lower body, shoving the rest of him into the trunk and closing it. you looked around briefly to make sure no one was around before hopping into your car and driving off to your destination. this was going to be fun.

  "wakey, wakey," you taunted menacingly, slapping his cheek as he stirred awake.

he groaned, his face jerking at the contact. his eyes widened, seeming to sober up as he realized he couldn't move. "what the fuck," he said, his voice urgent as he tried to pull against the ropes.

"how's that working out for you?" you grinned, your eyes gleaming with a sadistic pleasure, and this was only the beginning.

"you bitch," he spat when his eyes landed on you. he tried to lunge at you, but he got pulled back.

you tsked, shaking your head. "you really shouldn't insult someone who holds your life in their hands," you scolded him, motioning to your table of torture equipment that you had laid out.

the man's eyes widened, and you watched as the panic seemed to set in. he was realizing the situation he was in, and you were witnessing it in real time. the sight almost made you groan in pleasure. you loved this part and everything that came after.

he started screaming, shouting for help at the top of his lungs. you rolled your eyes. you did not care for this part.

"god, shut up," you complained, as if his fear was an inconvenience to you. "it's no use. no one can hear you out here."

you had set up shop in an abandoned warehouse near the docks. you did your work here and had your fun, and then, you disposed of the body in a dumpster in the city, discarding your victims like the trash they were.

he stopped screaming, his chest heaving as he glared at you. he was clearly trying to maintain some semblance of control by pretending not to be afraid. "what the fuck do you want?"

"hm," you hummed, picking up a knife and examining it as you pretending to think. "what is it that i want?" you put the knife back down, turning to him as you leaned on the table with your arms crossed. "what do you think i want, dennis?"

"money, drugs, sex? fuck knows," he spat angrily. "you're fucking crazy!"

"maybe," you shrugged, grinning wickedly. "but it's a cruel, cruel world, isn't it?" your smile dropped as you stepped closer, a dark look in your eye. "a world where sick fucks like you get to prey on the innocent and vulnerable without hardly any repercussions for your actions."

"shut up," he glared at you. "you don't know shit."

"oh, please," you laughed humorlessly. "you plead guilty. the whole world knows what you did."

"i was force-" the sound of skin on skin echoed throughout the warehouse as you slapped him. his head whipped to the side, stopping him in the middle of his sentence. he sat there, completely stunned, as a warm, red mark in the shape of your palm started to form on his cheek.

"don't lie to me," you gritted out, stepping back and turning to your table of equipment again. you hummed, deciding which instrument to use first. you were tired of all the talking. you wanted to get to the fun part.

"you little bitch!" he yelled, finally snapping back to reality. he felt the sting on his cheek and fought against the ropes once more. "i'm gonna get out of this, and when i do, you're gonna regret ever meeting me."

"oh, i'm so scared," you said flatly, deciding on a pair of pliers and turning back to him.

his eyes widened at the sight, and you saw his adam's apple bob up and down with the force of his swallow. "w-what are you going to do with those?" he asked, all conviction gone from his tone.

"teeth or nails?" you asked, tapping the pliers lightly against your chin as you raised a brow at him.

"y-you're fucking nuts!" his voice trembled. he thrashed against the restraints, trying desperately to get away, but it was no use.

"pick or i do both," you said coldly, stepping forward until you were right in front of him, so close he could feel your breath on his skin.

"n-nails," he managed to say, and you smirked, reaching out to grab his jaw tightly. you pulled it open, your fingers digging harshly into his cheeks. he yelled out protests that weren't quite decipherable because of his mouth being open, but you were sure you understood the general gist.

"oh, what?" you asked mockingly. "you thought i'd actually let you choose?" you laughed, bringing the pliers up to his mouth and clamping down on one of his molars "this is definitely gonna hurt," you grinned before ripping the tooth out of his mouth forcefully.

he let out a blood-curdling scream that had you smiling even wider, a sick satisfaction washing over your body. it made your nerve endings buzz, the ends of your fingers and toes practically tingling with excitement.

he spat out the blood that was rapidly filling his mouth, the puddle falling at your feet. "please," he begged. "please, stop. i'll do anything!"

"begging already?" you asked incredulously. "i've barely even started." you rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand and holding it still as you clamped the pliers on his fingertip.

"please, don't! please!" he cried out, tears starting to fall from his eyes.

"how pathetic," you scoffed, pulling the pliers up swiftly. a soft crack filled your ears as his bone snapped, causing another loud scream to fall from his lips. you sighed in content. "isn't this so much fun?" you asked, grinning at him.

"you sick bitch!" he cried, his body trembling.

"i'm sick?" you asked, a fire igniting in your eyes as you tossed the pliers to the side, grabbing a knife. "tell me, dennis, did she plead and beg for you to stop?" you sneered. "did she call you a sick bastard, and did you keep going anyway?"

you had intended to save this part for after you were done because you knew he'd bleed out very soon after, but you couldn't help it. your little game of foreplay wasn't satisfying you anymore. you needed to skip right to the main event. his words mixed with the fact that you were already antsy and practically jumping out of your skin to kill again sent you over the edge.

you knew you weren't right in the head. you knew something was wrong with you; you'd known it since you were a little girl, but the implication that you were somehow worse than he was made the little spark of self control you were holding onto fizzle out.

you brought the knife down to his pants, cutting away the fabric. it took a bit of effort to slice through the rough denim, but eventually, you were able to pull it apart, his boxers on display.

"what the fuck are you doing?" he asked, looking down at his lap before looking back up at you. fear was evident in him from the way his voice trembled, his body shook, and the look in his eyes.

"my favorite part," you grinned sinisterly, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his dick. in one practiced motion, you sliced the knife through the base of the sensitive skin, cutting it off of him.

he screamed like he had never screamed before as a white hot, searing pain enveloped his senses. blood poured from the wound, coating his jeans and making them stick to his thighs as it ran down to the floor.

you watched in pure satisfaction as he screamed and jerked against the ropes. a thin layer of sweat formed on his entire body, his face paling as he lost blood at an alarming rate. you knew he'd be dead any minute now, and it made you feel like a god.

you watched as his screams died down to small whimpers and sobs before fading out completely, his mouth hanging open as his eyes glossed over, a faraway look in them. you grinned, taking his appendage and shoving it down his throat before closing his mouth.

you stepped back, admiring your handiwork for a moment before beginning to clean up, just as you had done so many times before. this wasn't your first time, and you intended for it to not be your last, but sometimes, life has other plans.

you discarded him in a dumpster as you usually did before heading home to clean yourself and all your tools off.

it was just like any other kill. you didn't think of it much afterwords; you simply went back to living your life as normal. you went to your boring 9 to 5, and then came home and made dinner while trying not to let that incessant dripping drive you mad. it had gone perfect, just as it always had.

you should've known that your restlessness would have caused problems. your impulsivity had never gotten the better of you like it had that night, and you were going to pay for it.

you thought you had gotten away with it until you opened your apartment door and found three cops with guns pointed at you. it was clearly an inopportune moment to leave. it seemed as if they were planning to kick your door down or something, but you'd caught them off guard.

"problem, officers?" you asked innocently, raising your hands to signal that you weren't going to cause any trouble. there were two women—one with brown hair and the other blonde—and one man, who had his hair cut close to his scalp.

"turn around, slowly," the male officer ordered, his gun and stern expression trained on you. you slowly turned your back to them, keeping your hands up.

you felt someone grab your wrist, pulling it behind your back. cold metal locked around one wrist and then the other. "you have the right to remain silent..." one of the female officers began reading you your rights.

"yes, yes, i understand," you said as she finished reading them off and pulled you out of the apartment, leading you to the elevator. the other two went inside your apartment, presumably to search for evidence.

you played through the events in your head. how did they find you? none of your victims ever had any personal connection to you, and you were very careful to prevent any dna contamination.

though, truthfully, you knew that was impossible. locard's principle stated that when two objects came in contact, there would always be a transfer of material, so there was no way to ensure without a shadow of a doubt that you hadn't left some kind of evidence behind on the bodies.

you sat alone in the cop car for awhile, more police and crime scene techs showing up to use their fancy little black lights on your apartment.

you knew you were probably caught, but it didn't bother you much. you knew you couldn't get away with it forever. it was only a matter of time until you got caught, and to be honest with yourself, you were surprised you lasted as long as you did.

finally, you were driven back to the police station. you got your mug shot taken and got fingerprinted, all the while maintaining a calm and collected demeanor that had the police around you on edge. you had, allegedly, killed upwards of twenty men, and here you were in police cutody, brushing this whole situation off with an eerie ease.

one of the officers in uniform grabbed your arm, pulling you toward an interrogation room. your eyes swept the station as he did so, taking in every detail that you could manage. the brain receives about 11 million bits of information per second but can only consciously process around 40 to 50, meaning you had to try and focus to obtain the important things.

you saw a board with various pictures of your victims plastered on it. one picture in particular caught your eye. it was of your license plate. it was taken far away and undoubtedly at the same location that you'd dumped your last body. that was where your recklessness had screwed you.

he pushed you into the interrogation room, telling you to sit down and wait before leaving quickly. you rolled your eyes, taking a seat in the uncomfortable metal chair. you had seen movies and tv shows. you knew they were going to leave you in there for a while to try and make you sweat.

of course, it didn't work. you had accepted your fate. besides, you had an odd ability to be calm and collected in situations that normal people otherwise wouldn't be.

your head was tilted back, gaze staring up at the ceiling with a bored expression on your face. the sound of the door opening had you immediately looking toward the source, watching as a man entered the room with a manilla folder in his hand—a file.

the approached the table, his tie slightly loosened, and his sleeves rolled up. he wordlessly pulled out the chair across from you and sat down, placing the folder on the table between you two. he examined your expression and body language curiously.

"detective," you greeted him with a small nod. you scanned him appreciatively. you hadn't expected to get grilled by someone so attractive. his brown hair was gelled neatly to the side, and his rolled up sleeves showed off his forearms. he had piercing blue eyes that studied you with an intense gaze. you figured that if you were anyone else, that stare would unnerve you.

he met your gaze, those hardened baby blue eyes searching yours for some hint of remorse, madness, anything, but all he saw was cold calculation and a hint of amusement.

he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "why don't you tell me why you did it?" he proposed, scanning every inch of you that he could see with an intrigued expression.

"did what?" you asked innocently, mirroring his actions of leaning forward and resting your elbows on the table. you furrowed your brows in faux confusion.

his eyes narrowed slightly. "you know exactly what i'm talking about. the murders. the bodies. the fact that every single one of your victims was a convicted rapist." he opened the folder and pulled out a photograph, slamming it down on the table in front of you.

you raised an eyebrow, gaze drifting down to the photograph. it was of one of your earlier victims—gerald windsor. he had been a serial rapist whose conviction was overturned after only six months because of a technicality with the dna evidence.

you let out a low whistle, leaning back against the chair and crossing your arms over your chest. "that's brutal. i hope you find who did it." you looked back at him, a smirk tugging at your lips.

he felt a shiver run down his spine at your nonchalance, your calm acceptance of the horrors you'd committed. he studied your face, trying to understand the motivations behind your actions. "you're not even sorry, are you?" he asked incredulously.

"well, hypothetically, if i had committed these murders," you grinned, skirting around evidence of a confession by calling it a hypothetical. "no, i don't suppose i would be sorry. i mean, you did say they were rapists, right?"

his jaw tightened, a muscle twitching. he couldn't help but feel a sense of fascination, a morbid curiosity that pulled him in despite his best efforts to remain professional. "and that gives you the right to play judge, jury, and executioner?"

"technically, if i killed them, i would've just been playing executioner because they were already convicted rapists," you shrugged nonchalantly, as if you were just talking about the weather or your weekend plans. "but, you know, semantics."

he felt a surge of anger, mixed with a dark, twisted admiration. you were playing with him, toying with his emotions and his sense of justice. and yet, he couldn't look away. "so, you're saying you think you're doing a public service? like-like some sort of hero?"

"not a hero, no," you shook your head. you did understand the difference between right and wrong. you knew you were no hero, that you were a cold-blooded murderer. you just didn't care. "but a public service? absolutely."

he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. you were a dangerous game to play, and he knew it. but, he couldn't help himself. he wanted to understand you, to peel back the layers of your psyche and see what made you tick. "and you have no remorse? no guilt? nothing?"

"bad people deserve it when bad things happen to them," you replied cryptically, your gaze unwavering as you stared him down.

his brows furrowed, a sense of frustration building inside him. he wanted clear, concise answers, not riddles. "and who decides who's 'bad', huh? you? you're playing god, doling out punishment as you see fit. how is that any different from them?"

"don't compare me to them" you said sharply, your calm demeanor slipping slightly, allowing anger to rise to the surface. you may not have been a saint, but you were nothing like those monsters. you didn't hurt innocent people, and murder was a far cry from rape.

he zeroed in on your reaction, filing it away for later. he knew he'd touched a nerve, and he intended to exploit it. "then explain to me the difference because from where i'm sitting, you're no better than the men you've killed."

your jaw clenched as you glared at him "allegedly killed," you corrected him, trying to maintain some semblance of control. you knew what he was playing at, and you didn't want to let him win. you would tell him what he wanted to know... eventually, but it had to be on your terms.

he leaned forward, his eyes locked onto yours. he could see the anger simmering beneath the surface, the barely-leashed fury, and he felt a perverse sense of satisfaction in knowing that he'd finally gotten under your skin. "alright, then. allegedly," he conceeded.

"rape and murder are two very different beasts," you responded ambiguously, once again giving a vague answer to a direct question.

he sighed, running a hand through meticulously styled hair in frustration, slightly tousling it. your vague answers were driving him crazy. he needed concrete evidence, something he could use to build a case against you, but you seemed determined to keep him guessing. they had an eyewitness that took a photo of your license plate, but she didnt actually see anything that would help the case tremendously. "let me put it this way then."

"put it any way you want, pretty boy," you grinned confidently, his frustration making you feel extremely satisfied.

he bristled at the nickname but pushed through. "if you didn't murder these men, then prove it. give me an alibi, something that'll take you out of the equation. anything."

"well, i'd have to know when the murders were committed to be able to provide an alibi, wouldn't i?" you asked, smart enough to not let his question trip you up. if you didn't kill them, you obviously wouldn't know which days to have an alibi for.

he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. he knew you were stalling, but he was willing to play along—for now. "the first murder was on a tuesday night in december, around ten pm. the second was a thursday morning in january, around six am."

you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table as you hummed thoughtfully, pretending to dig through your memory for those days. "i'm afraid my alibi won't help much. i was home, alone, as i am most days and nights" you gave him a sympathetic look. "sorry i couldn't be more help."

his face darkened, and he felt a surge of annoyance. you were toying with him, and he didn't like it. "you expect me to believe that you have no witnesses to confirm your whereabouts? no neighbors who might've seen you come or go?" he pressed you, eyes narrowing with skepticism.

you shrugged, your lips curving into a small smile. "i'm not a social gal."

he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded you with a critical eye. he didn't believe you. hs knew you were hiding something, and he was determined to uncover the truth. "so, you're telling me that there's nobody who can vouch for you?"

"nope," you answered simply, shaking your head. the fact that you had no alibi did little to rattle you.

His jaw clenched, and he felt a growing sense of unease. you were too calm, too collected. it was almost as if you wanted him to think you were guilty. "you know what i think?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "i think you're enjoying this."

"now that's just crazy," you gasped softly, feigning shock. "who in their right mind would enjoy getting interrogated for murder?"

he ignored your mock innocence. "someone who likes playing games. someone who gets off on the thrill of skirting the line between right and wrong," he leaned forward, his eyes boring into yours. "someone like you."

"well, you've just got me all figured out, huh?" you asked, grinning as you leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest again.

he felt a wave of frustration wash over him. you were enjoying this, reveling in the back-and-forth game, and he hated it. he hated being played. "this isn't a game," he said through gritted teeth.

"life is a game, sweetheart," you said condescendingly, rolling your eyes. "you just have to know how to play."

he slammed his fist on the table, making you jump slightly, but not out of fear, just surprise. the sudden outburst caught you off guard, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the anger and frustration he'd been holding back. "listen to me," he said, his voice low and intense.

"now, we're getting somewhere," you grinned, enjoying his surge of emotion. you sat up straight, suddenly very interested.

he took a deep breath, struggling to regain his composure. he couldn't let you bait him like that. he had to stay focused, no matter how infuriating you were. "i'm not going to let you toy with me," he said, his voice measured and controlled.

"oh, but you already have." your smile widened as you observed him trying to reign in his anger. "i've been toying with you since the moment you walked in that door."

his jaw clenched, and he could feel the anger rising once more. but then, he saw it—a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips—and it hit him. "you want me to lose my temper, don't you?"

"and you want me to lose mine," you shot back, tilting your head as you stared at him.

he unclenched his jaw, relaxing his face as he mirrored your pose. "it doesn't matter if i lose my temper. you're still going away for the rest of your life."

you shrugged nonchalantly, seeming completely unperturbed by his threats. "maybe, maybe not"

he bristled at your nonchalant response. you acted as if you had some ace up your sleeve, some secret card you hadn't played yet, and it unnerved him. he had to press on, had to break through your smug facade. "you're running out of time."

"I think you're the one running out of time, detective," you smiled, like you knew something he didn't. "see, once this game of ours gets boring—which it's starting to—well..." you sighed for dramatic effect. "well, then, i can just say those four little words, and your little interrogation is over." you knew you had the upper hand with being able to request your lawyer and stop his questioning at any time.

"you're not going to say them," he said confidently. you needed this. this little cat-and-mouse game was a different kind of exhilarating to you, and he knew you weren't ready to let it go just yet.

"oh, i'm not?" you asked, your eyebrows raising at his boldness. he truly was an intriguing man, and you were enjoying your little chat just as much as he thought you were.

he sat back in his chair again, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you. he was calling your bluff, and you knew it. "no. because you're having too much fun," he said, a small, smug smile playing on his lips. "you like this."

you grinned, impressed by how well he had read you. "well, done, detective," you praised him. "you're smarter than you look."

he felt a surge of satisfaction at your praise, which only annoyed him further. he shouldn't care whether you thought he was smart or not. this was a power play, nothing more. "and you're not as clever as you think you are," he shot back.

"ouch," you said, placing your hand over your heart and feigning hurt. he watched, irritated, as you exaggeratedly winced, dramatically clutching at your chest. "oh, the pain. shot down by the nice detective. how will I ever recover?" your mocking tone only served to fuel his frustration.

he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. he couldn't let you get to him like this. he had to stay focused, had to break through your defenses. "you know what I think?" he said, his voice steady and controlled. "i think you're scared."

"scared?" you laughed, taken aback by his claim. you couldn't imagine where he could have possibly got that idea. "oh, you could not be farther off the mark"

"you're scared that i'll figure it out," he continued, leaning forward. "you're scared that i'll solve this case before you get bored of our game. because then, you'll have nothing. no more cat-and-mouse, just a life sentence in prison, and you're terrified of that."

"oh, detective," you grinned, shaking your head. "i'm not scared of anything. i accepted my fate a long time ago."

his eyes narrowed as he studied your expression, searching for any hint of weakness or dishonesty, but you seemed entirely too calm, too confident. he didn't like it. "accepted your fate, huh?" he repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism. "then why are you still denying what you did?"

"you really want me to do your job for you?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "where's the fun in that?"

he sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. you were playing with him, dancing just out of reach, and it was driving him crazy. he opened his mouth again to speak, but a knock on the two-way glass stopped him. that was his signal to leave.

"aw," you pouted, feigning sadness. "looks like our time is up."

"for now," he said curtly, pushing his chair back as he stood up, the sound of the metal legs scraping the floor echoing through the little room. he straightened his tie, giving you one last look before turning to leave.

you watched him go, gaze lingering on his ass as a smirk tugged at your lips. you knew his squad was watching from behind the glass. they had pulled him out because you were clearly having too much fun with him.

as he walked out of the room, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just been outmaneuvered. he glanced back at you through the glass, his expression unreadable.

"think she's gearing up for the insanity defense?" detective fin tutuola asked, staring at your calm, almost bored expression.

he shook his head. "she's just playing us," carisi said, his voice tight with frustration. "and she's good at it." he watched as you leaned back in your chair, your eyes closed. "too good." he paused, then added, "we need to be better."

"alright, well," lieutenant benson sighed, turning to the blonde detective. "rollins, you're up. see if you can get her to give anything up."

he glanced at rollins, then back to you. he didn't like the idea of someone else taking over the interview, but he knew benson was right. they needed to switch things up, keep you off balance. "be careful," he warned rollins. "she's slippery."

you opened your eyes at the sound of the door opening again. your head lolled to the side, and you regarded the blonde with disinterest as you watched her enter, closing the door behind her.

"hey," rollins said, pulling out the chair carisi had just vacated. she sat down, her blue eyes studying you carefully. "I'm detective rollins. i'll be talking to you today." she paused, waiting for your response.

"uh huh," you hummed. you seemed completely indifferent to her presence, your body language languid and unconcerned.

rollins frowned, noticing how easily you seemed to brush her off. she tried a different tactic, pulling out a photo from the evidence file. "i want to show you something," she said, setting the photo on the table in front of you. "recognize this person?"

"nope," you said, not even glancing at the photograph. you weren't interested in playing with her. you had your sights set on that other detective, and if you weren't going to be allowed to talk to him, you didn't want to talk at all.

rollins gritted her teeth, annoyed by your nonchalance. she slid the photo closer, insistent. "look at it," she demanded. "it's important."

"yknow what," you hummed, smiling confidently. you leaned forward, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "i think i'd like my lawyer now."

rollins sighed, frustrated. she hadn't even gotten anywhere with you, and now you were invoking your right to a lawyer. she gathered up the photo and the file, standing up. "fine," she said, her voice tight. "we'll do this the hard way."

you watched as she left with a smug smile, leaning back in your chair again and closing your eyes as you waited for your lawyer to arrive, satisfied with how you'd sufficiently pissed off the new york police department.