#svu detectives

[wandasaura]

CAN NEVER BE TOO THOROUGH

summary — after getting injured in pursuit of a suspect, olivia insists that she check you out too

warning(s) — established relationship, dom/sub dynamics, dom!olivia benson, praise kink, name calling, pet names, office sex, public sex, fingering, clit stimulation, brief thigh riding, teasing, slight humiliation, hair pulling, biting, licking, finger sucking, implied oral fixation, captain kink, begging, slapping, crying, brief mention of injury, inspection kink, slight orgasm edging/control, men/minors dni

authors note — olivia benson returns and so does the smut. i don’t even know what to say anymore, im on a rampage, truly

“I’ll see you later!” Fin laughed, waving over his shoulder as he finally left for the night. But, before you could do the same, you were being beckoned to the Captain's office, Olivia’s brooding expression drawing you in from the doorway where ambient light spilled over her leather shoes. Fin shook his head at the door, hearing the very beginning of Olivia’s command, and knowing what it would entail for you. Or at least, some of it.

“Detective!” Benson’s voice boomed, sudden and unexpected in the relatively quiet precinct. Rollins and Carisi had already gone home, the latter coming by to pick up the former because apparently they had dinner reservations uptown. Fin just left, taking a single donut from the break room with him — even though it had become stale yesterday afternoon, and was beyond the point of redeeming itself even with its rainbow sprinkles — and Kat, well, you just hadn’t seen her in a while. So, that left only you around to hear Olivia’s instruction. “My office.” She gave a pointed click of the tongue, but you would’ve complied anyways. It had been a long handful of hours since the last time you’d been able to get your hands on her.

You kicked your desk chair back into place, not worried about the cluttered highlighters on your desk, all of their caps switched to the wrong colors, a lovely gift from Fin who’d apparently never learned to appropriately channel his boredom during Benson’s lectures. You, on the other hand, had been blind to it happening at all, too caught up in a fantasy of her taking you over the desk. Again. Amanda had known what you were thinking of, you’d been her friend before you’d been the Captains girlfriend, and she’d batted your thigh in disgust — though she’s definitely going to be texting you later, asking if anything came from your hormonal fantasy.

Olivia stepped back into the room when she was sure that you were coming, following her directions the way she knew (and expected) you could. You closed the door behind you when you stepped inside, and before the latch could fully click against metal, her body backed you up until cold pine sent shivers down your spine.

Your palms splayed across the sleek wood, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth as you stared up into her hazy chocolate eyes. You could trace endless constellations in her gaze when the sun hits her pupils the right way, but what you’ve really come to love is how lust creates a whirlpool until all that remains is black pupils outlined by enchanting golden rings. Her hand inches up, and you think she might touch your face, might pull you in for a kiss — the first kiss you’ll share since six o’clock that morning — but instead she closes the blinds and lets her exhale ghost across your jawline.

“Kiss me.” You pleaded breathlessly, already craving her touch on your body that had taken a hit in pursuit. You’d been out of the precinct for nearly two hours, holed up at Mercy getting assessed before 1PP called you in and tried to scramble your brain until you admitted trauma — when nothing came from the forty minute interrogation framed as a therapy session, they begrudgingly released you back to Olivia who had been swept away by a hit you’ d been desperately chasing. To say you needed a remedy for the emotional toll of your day couldn’t compare to the weight of what you needed. The first thing on that list was admittedly to get Olivia in bed though. Her office just couldn't hold a scene the way you needed it to.

“Is that how you ask for something?” Olivia seethed, her teeth grinding together as her jaw became a firm line of structure. You swallowed thickly, arousal disturbing the delicate tendons in your thighs. The small quiver in your knees, you hope is unnoticeable, but Olivia smirks, her eyes jutting down to see your thighs squeezing together now, no longer just twitching for contact and pleasure. You thought you might’ve gotten away with your lust-drunk plea, but then a hand tangled into your hair and yanked your head back until you could see the tiles on your ceilings. That sight was covered by your eyelids, a heavy sigh sinking off of your lips.

“Kiss me, please, Liv.” You pleaded, your head still tilted upward, her tight grip not allowing any sort of tension to loosen. The strain in your neck and sting against your scalp was pleasant, familiar; far better than being slammed into the concrete by a six foot jackass with a warrant. “Baby, please, I need you to kiss me.” You arched your head, forcing her grip to give, to let you move until you could inch your lips just the slightest bit closer, and Olivia almost let you get away with it, but just before your lips could touch hers, she tightened her fist and slammed you back against the door, her chest now keeping you flush between herself and the door. No escape.

“Where are we?” She inquires, her gaze piercing, unforgiving as it unravels you, pulls you apart until you’re just clumps of nerves beneath her electrified touch.

“Your office.” The words are thick, heavy, breathy, and they fan across Olivia’s chin as you drop your gaze to her breasts, the tanned skin peeking out from the unbuttoned top she’d picked out from the closet that morning.

“My office. Good girl.” Olivia praised, leaning in close so that she could crane her face into your neck, biting down sweetly onto your shoulder before she soothed the indentations of her teeth with her hot tongue. Her warmth was welcomed, a deterrent to the cold that claims your fingertips. “And what’s my name when we’re in my office, hm? I know it’s in there. In that pretty head. I haven’t broken you yet, sweetheart.” She teases, her mouth moving up your neck, open kisses dampening your skin until you’re not sure what's damper, the trail she’s paved toward your earlobe that she claims between her teeth, or your thighs that tremble and quiver, unable to pinch together tight enough to give you any kind of release.

“Captain.” You sigh, moaning gently when she tugs your earlobe, her tongue swirling around the diamond studs she’d gifted you for your second anniversary.

“Mhm, and a Captain has to make sure her detectives are capable of doing this job.” Olivia mused, trailing her lips against your cheek until the edge of her smirk touched your pout.

“I was already cleared.” You tried to excuse, but then her lips captured yours, and it didn’t matter that you’d already signed endless paperwork, been fondled by exploring hands, and had your blood drawn unnecessarily.

Another gasp crawled up your throat when her knee pressed between your legs, the warmth of your core spreading against her thigh. It only took a moment for your hips to seek friction, rotating back and forth with the structure of the door as leverage to keep you both upright. Olivia’s hands framed your face on either side of the door before she caught your jaw in a bruising grip, the fingers of her left hand making a tantalizing trail to the waistband of your slacks.

“Oh, but sweetheart, they might’ve missed something. Just let me check, yeah?” She breaths against your lips, and you can only agree when her hand finds your core between her pants and yours, her thumb seeking to fiddle with the pulsating nerve beneath her touch. “Gonna let me check, baby? Need words from you.”

“Yes.” You sighed, your head throwing itself back onto the door when her fingers undid the sterling silver button and snaked inside of your panties, stopping right before your clit. Her forefinger and middle circled your pleading bud cruelly, only securing whatever dampness was within reach and not exploring your clenching hole that yearns for her fingers, or her strap, or her tongue.

“Yes, what?” Olivia huffed, yanking your hair again until your eyes met her, wide and glassy as you tried to move your hips into the palm of her hand. Olivia tsk’d at that, the hand in your hair disappearing to instead slap your clothed thigh.

”Yes, you can check, Captain. Please.” You cried out, tears of desperation leaking from your eyes. It was so easy. You were so easy.

“You’re so pretty like this. Begging your Captain to check you, to make sure you’re alright. So easy for me, sweetheart. I barely have to put up a fight.” She teased, her tone condescending and light, concealed with gentleness that had you gasping when her fingers began to explore your folds, sweeping through the collection of wetness until she found the spot the caused it all. “Oh, what’s this. My pretty little pussy is absolutely dripping. Does this hurt, sweetheart?” Olivia knew what she was doing as she eased a single finger into your cunt up to the second knuckle.

You gasped breathily, your back arching off the door and as far into her chest as it was able.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.” Olivia snapped her wrist, and suddenly that finger was probing the sweet spot inside of you that made you see stars. Another finger was added, two thick digits stretching you out, the metal of her rings so aggravatingly hitting the sensitive skin beside your clit but never direct contact.

“N-No.” You whimpered, tears still leaking down your face, glittering rivers of pent up emotion visible in your single glance. “Please.”

Olivia only hummed, ignoring your pleading, your begging, the squelch of your juices as she scissored your cunt, fingering your hole open until her palm was slick with arousal. Her touches were incessant, practiced and experienced, but it brought you no closer to the peak of pleasure you so desperately wanted to find.

Instead, she pulled her fingers out, trailing her touch along your lips again. You whined, unable to help herself, and Olivia shut you up with a blinding kiss, her teeth digging into your lip until you yelped pathetically. “Be quiet.” She instructed, her fingers slipping through your folds, so close, so close, oh god. “Oh, does that hurt? That was a pretty sound, darling. You only make that sound when something hurts. Come on, be honest with your Captain.”

“Please.” You broke, your eyes glimmering with pearly iridescent tears and your lips trembling.

“Please, what? Come on, I know you can tell me.” She encouraged, her fingers still working your clit, still teasing your senses.

“Please, it hurts! It hurts, please fix it. Captain, please, I need you.” You sobbed, chasing Olivia’s lips, but she pulled away from you entirely, her hand leaving your pants, your face, your hair. That heavy pressure was replaced with fingers pressing against your lips, an order already at the forefront of her tongue.

“Clean me up.” You didn’t need to be told twice, eagerly accepting her fingers into your mouth, the weight of her digits familiar and comforting even with the throb between your legs. “Good girl.” She praised, pulling her fingers from your lips only when your dutiful licking and suckling became impatient nipping, trying to lure her back in. “Pack up your desk. We’re going home.” She informed, kissing you sweetly as her fingers buttoned your pants, her fingers trailing over your cunt just to smile teasingly as your hips jolted.

Olivia didn’t have to tell you twice. You dont think you’ll even survive the walk back.

[theartofcollapse]

World’s Worst Detectives - Casey Novak

a/n: i'm taking requests, so feel free to dm me :) summary: you reveal your relationship with Casey to the SVU squad after 5 years. pairing: Casey Novak x female reader warning: none word count: 880

masterlist

The morning started like any other, Elliot sipping his too hot coffee, Fin scrolling through his phone, Olivia looking over case files, and Munch complaining about the copy machine. Business as usual, until Y/N walked into the precinct wearing a diamond ring the size of a small planet.

"Nice rock,” Fin said casually, before doing a double take. “Wait... damn, Y/N! What’s that about?”

“Yeah,” Olivia chimed in, narrowing her eyes. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Y/N smirked, leaning against the nearest desk. “What? This old thing?” she said, holding up her hand for dramatic effect.

“Holy crap, are you engaged?” Munch asked, adjusting his glasses like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Yep,” Y/N said breezily.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Elliot cut in, setting his coffee down. “Since when are you even dating anyone?”

“Since, like, five years ago,” Y/N said nonchalantly.

The room collectively froze. It was like Y/N had dropped a bomb in the middle of the squad.

“Five years?” Olivia echoed, her voice a mix of shock and betrayal. “You’ve been dating someone for five years and didn’t say a word?”

“We’re just private and don’t bring our personal lives to work,” Y/N replied with a shrug, clearly enjoying their stunned reactions.

“Private?!” Elliot gawked. “You’ve been in a five-year relationship and didn’t think to mention it?”

“Who’s the lucky mystery person?” Fin asked, leaning forward.

Y/N’s grin widened. “Casey.”

“Novak?!”

The room practically erupted at the revelation. And, as if summoned by their collective disbelief, Casey Novak herself walked into the precinct carrying a stack of files. She paused when she saw everyone staring at her like she’d just confessed to a major crime.

“What?” Casey asked, her brow furrowing.

“Oh, nothing,” Munch said, smirking. “We’re just learning that you and Y/N have been secretly dating for five years and are now engaged.”

Casey sighed, glancing at Y/N. “You told them?”

“They noticed the ring,” Y/N said with a shrug. “Kind of hard to miss.”

“Wait,” Olivia cut in, pointing between them. “How did you guys even get together? Like… how did this start?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Y/N said, shooting Casey a playful grin. “She flirted with me during my deposition prep. Very professional.”

“I did not flirt,” Casey said, rolling her eyes. “I advised you. Thoroughly.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N teased. “And that ‘thorough advice’ turned into drinks after work, then dinner, then…”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Elliot groaned.

“You live together?” Olivia asked, her mouth still slightly open in shock.

“For years,” Y/N replied, looking far too pleased with herself.

“For years?” Fin exclaimed. “How the hell did we miss this?”

“You’re the detectives,” Y/N said, dripping with sarcasm. “How did you not find out?”

Elliot threw up his hands. “I don’t know! You two never acted like… you know… a couple.”

Casey let out a dry laugh. “Are you serious? We’ve been dropping hints for years. You just didn’t notice.”

“What hints?” Olivia challenged, crossing her arms.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Casey said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “The time Y/N brought me lunch to court every single day during that Riker’s assault trial?”

“Or,” Y/N added, “the time we came to the precinct’s Christmas party in matching sweaters and you thought it was a ‘cute coincidence.’”

“Oh my God,” Fin muttered. “The ugly snowman sweaters. How did I miss that?”

“And don’t forget, that time Casey stayed over at my apartment during that snowstorm. Elliot, you called me to ask if she made it home safe, and I said, ‘Yeah, she’s in the kitchen making pancakes.’”

Elliot slapped his forehead. “I thought you were just being a good host!”

Munch adjusted his glasses, a suspicious look crossing his face. “What about that time we caught you two sharing a cab after that fundraiser?”

“We went home together,” Casey said bluntly.

Munch’s jaw dropped. “And I just thought… God, I don’t know what I thought.”

“Clearly, not much,” Y/N teased.

Fin leaned back in his chair, laughing. “Man, we really are slippin’. I can’t believe we didn’t piece this together.”

“Hold up,” Olivia said, narrowing her eyes at Casey. “So, when you storm out of here after Y/N gets assigned to some dangerous op, that’s not just you being a concerned ADA, is it?”

“Nope,” Casey said with a sly smile.

“And the way you glare at anyone who so much as flirts with her?” Fin added.

“Yeah, that’s me marking my territory,” Casey said dryly.

“I feel so betrayed,” Elliot muttered, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on,” Y/N said, laughing. “You didn’t really need to know all this. It’s not like it affects your jobs.”

“We’re detectives,” Olivia said, throwing her hands up. “We’re supposed to notice things like this!”

“Maybe you should take a refresher course,” Casey quipped, earning a round of laughter from everyone except Elliot, who still looked like his world had been turned upside down.

“Well,” Munch said, standing up and grabbing his coat. “Congratulations, I guess. But if you two start making out in the precinct, I’m filing a complaint.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Y/N said, shooting Casey a wink. “We save that for home.”

“Stop,” Elliot groaned, covering his ears.

Casey smirked, pulling Y/N toward the door. “Come on, babe. Let’s leave them to process.”

As the two of them left, hand in hand, Olivia let out a deep sigh. “I can’t believe we missed this.”

“Maybe next time,” Fin said, still laughing, “we should start paying attention to what’s right under our noses.”

Munch shook his head. “Or maybe we should all just retire while we still have some dignity.”

[bensonnstabler]

[elles-greenaway]

3.18 Guilt | 9.07 Blinded

[goomyloid]

suspenderspilled

[talaelsharif2007]

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Under shattered roofs and endless bombardment, children go to sleep hungry, and mothers hide their tears because they have nothing left to give.

We're not asking for much🙏🍉

We're asking for flour—to bake bread, to keep souls alive

Your donation today could mean survival.....✨💙

One sack of flour could be the difference between hunger and hope.

link gofundme.....🍉

[poisonsage808]

Jealousy

the burning question on everyone’s mind, is john munch the jealous type?

“You a jealous person, Fin?”

His partner scrunched his nose at the question but didn’t immediately shoot it down. He looked around in thought before shrugging his shoulders.

“Can be. I don’t like people touchin’ what’s mine, y’know?”

Unsatisfied with the answer he’s heard a thousand times before, he merely nodded. Fin narrowed his eyes at the unusually silent man. If John was quiet, it meant his head was loud.

“Why you askin’? Some dog pissing on your lawn?”

Unceremoniously, John drops his pen and his head into his hands. “It’s too early for you to be invading my mind with repugnant imagery. Keep your filth to yourself.”

With a snort he couldn’t help, Fin continues, “You started it! What is it, Munch, you getting acquainted with the feeling for the first time?"

He certainly didn’t count himself on the poll of jealous men. Maybe his view is skewered from his years on the force and only seeing the extremes like people becoming violent or winding up dead because of it. One of his ex wives, don’t ask him which, tried to ruffle his feathers by flirting with someone else in front of him but it didn’t have his desired effect. After all, he wasn’t a stranger to a ménage à trois. So maybe it’s because he’s simply superior than to fall victim to the social construct!

Then you came along and introduced him to something worse than mere jealousy.

"Detective!"

John barley glances up from his desk as you're chased down by Officer Peters yet again. The guy was persistent in all the wrong ways, if he focused on his job as much as he did your backside then he might be a half decent cop! You laughed when he told you that. It was a shared desire to keep your relationship under wraps for now, no one but HR needed to know... and Fin, which was a decision he was beginning to regret.

"I get it now." He whispers, leaning further on his partner's desk to watch the scene before them.

"Can I get you a popcorn? Get off my desk!" John hisses, but for once doesn't enforce his words because he's also eavesdropping, just not as painfully obvious as Fin.

Of course he trusts you— and make no mistake, receiving John Munch's trust was like holding the holy grail in your hands. He knows you won't cheat on him, not like you'd have the time anyways. Morning, noon and night you two are together, be it at work or away from it. He was sure you'd be sick of him by now but he's being proved wrong at every turn. You do little things throughout the day, like leave him snacks or sticky notes, that have him wondering how the hell you two hadn't been caught yet!

"Peters," you sigh knowingly, "do you have the Madison file?"

"Getting to that, don't worry.” It infuriates John how quickly the schmuck dismisses you. No, instead of doing his job, Peters laughs and waves an arm out before he crosses them, “In the meantime I was thinkin' that we should could go dancing this weekend. Got a few others comin’ so it'd be a group date— thing— totally casual. Stay out late, have some drinks, y’know, party for once! Whattaya say?”

There it is.

Envy.

Green like jealousy, only it worms deeper and hits all the wrong spots that makes John feel both pissed and vulnerable; an ugly cocktail. Sure, you’re no party animal but most people your age go out, dance, have fun. Instead, you spent your Friday nights sharing takeout in the precinct or on his couch. Dates varied from errands, the bar, going to the bookshop to the occasional (and usually interrupted) dinner at an overpriced restaurant. Munch did it best to spoil you, he did… it just never felt like enough. You deserved more than he could give and that feeling was worse than wanting to punch this guys’ lights out.

“No thanks, Peters. I’d rather hangout with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” He echoes, having the audacity to sound offended.

Abruptly the rooms volume drops, letting everyone hear Fin’s poorly concealed snickers. John picks his jaw off the floor when you throw a glare his way, acting occupied with paperwork he was supposed to be doing. The faint feeling of triumph at your tiny admission is addicting. He can’t stop the smirk that spreads.

Olivia happens to pass by the two at the perfect time, slowing her walk when she catches the gossip.

“A boyfriend, huh?”

Her cheshire grin is aimed right at you. If John didn’t know any better, she might’ve been onto you two. But no, if Olivia knew she would’ve busted his balls for it by now.

Backtracking and trying to catch up to the conversation, Elliot looks around with furrowed brows and suspicious eyes.

“Who has a boyfriend?” He announces even louder, looking at everyone in the room for an answer.

Groaning, you roll your eyes and snap a finger in the officers direction, “Get me the Madison file, Peters, today.”

John sends him a withering glare for making a tsk sound at you.

When you try and walk around the dynamic duo, they block your path and immediately grill you with questions. Yeah, this was exactly why you two didn’t want anyone knowing. One day it would probably blow up in your faces and you’d get an earful, but today it was still your little secret.

“What’s his name?” Elliot asks as he crosses his arms, taking up that ‘disappointed dad’ look.

“So you can look him up? I don’t think so, Stabler.”

Olivia whacks his arm for being so obvious, “What’s he like?”

An obscenely perfect smile breaks across your face. You catch your eyes drifting to John and make it look like you’re rolling them again.

“He’s too smart for his own good, stupidly handsome and worships me like I’m a god. Total package. We done here?”

You snort and push between the detectives, making your way to your desk. They follow after you like hunting dogs going in for the kill.

“Blasphemy is a dangerous game.” Eliot shakes his head with pursed lips, “I don’t like him.”

“Good thing you don’t have to share a bed with him, Stabler.”

Olivia’s laugh has him shooting a glare. He throws his hands up in defeat and walks to his desk, muttering under his breath.

“Too bad you’re off the market,” she winks and lowers her voice slightly, “Munch must be jealous.”

When Olivia left your desk, and Fin left his, the two of you shared a fond, knowing glance.

[heartsandstars46]

How does he survive being an ADA, this first trial damn near killed him 😭

[vintageneptune92]

Falling

Rafael Barba Imagine

This is a one-shot request from @choosejoyangel (for some reason it’s not letting me tag you.) with the prompt “There’s a leaf in your hair”

I hope you like it!

I did try to keep it gender neutral, but I didn’t edit this so it may not be 100% This is now gender neutral once I got a chance to edit it.

"Detective...this way." The officer led you deep into the woods as you absentmindedly put your hand on your gun. Under normal circumstances you would never let anyone lead you into the woods alone. Before becoming an SVU Detective you would have jokingly asked if he was taking you to where they buried the bodies. Here in the now? This officer was leading you to exactly where they buried the bodies.

It seemed like you had been walking for hours, perhaps it was because you knew exactly what you were being led to. You took a deep breath when you saw the clearing coming closer, wishing you'd be in the safety of the trees just a little bit longer. The scene you came upon was chaotic.

There were 12 graves that had been dug up. 12 young women buried in a perfect circle. The number meant something to the killer, you just weren't sure what that was yet. As you walked over to the grave that seemed the freshest, you took a look under the sheet and felt like you had gotten the wind knocked out of you. Another girl that you couldn't save.

It was a story you had heard too many times. She had been in and out of the system as a child. Father was gunned down, mother in and out of prison. She had been turned out and trafficked at 15. You had managed to save her from that horrible fate. She had stayed in touch. You had cheered her on as she got her GED and was now in Community College. She had been one that had truly gotten out.

Yet, it didn't seem that they ever really got out. There was a desperation that clung to them that made them easy prey. This young woman's desperation attracted a different kind of predator. One that threw you away when he was done with you. You hadn't heard from her in a month and so you went looking for her and her apartment was empty. Her friends hadn't seen her. She had died scared and alone, of that you were sure. At least the girls here were together when they were laid to rest.

You had become desensitized to many things. This job did that to you. You can't go day in and day out seeing the worst humanity has to offer without developing an apathetic sheild. This case seemed to find the tiny crack in yours and threatened to take the whole thing down.

"I told you not to come." Amaro came over to you. You were squatting down next to her body, pinching the bridge of your nose. He had been the first detective on the scene. Someone had been making their way through, saw what looked like a fresh grave and had alerted police and down the line it went until it was handed over to SVU. You had heard what was found, Nick had told you they had enough hands on deck and that he would send over any tips for you to follow up on. You were possibly more stubborn than he was.

"I had to. I had to see her." Amaro helped you to stand up.

"Listen, we have it covered here. CSU is doing their thing. Why don't you go update Barba with what we found." You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as you headed out of the scene, you didn't have it in you to stay there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you got to the ADA's office, his door was open and Carmen wasn't at her desk so you knocked on the open door as you walked in to announce your arrival. Barba, by far, had been the best prosecutor you'd ever worked with. His sarcasm had definitely endeared him to you. He was a great verbal sparring partner. You would rather die than admit you had feelings for him. Feeling anything opened up the door to let in all of the feelings, so you stuffed that down with the rest of them.

"Detective?" He looked you up and down, he knew something was off. You rarely ever knocked on his door, you just walked in like you owned the place. Carmen had stopped trying to stop you, mostly because he didn't want her to stop you. You looked at him but didn't say anything. He stood up, brow furrowed as he walked over to you.

"Did you take a jump in the leaves on your way over? I'm sure whoever rakes them up is thrilled to have to do it again."

"What?" You hadn't heard a word he had said. He reached his hand up and pulled something gently out of your hair.

"There was a leaf in your hair, and I made a really lame attempt at a joke..." his voice trailed off. Something wasn't just off, something was wrong.

"I don't think I can do this anymore." He watched as your eyes filled with tears, which was alarming because he had never seen you tear up over anything. He shut his office door and led you over to the couch by your arm to sit down.

"Can't do what anymore?"

"This job. I mean what is the point? Do we every really save anyone? There is just one more depraved monster lurking behind the one we just took down. No one is safe. Safety is a lie we tell ourselves to get out the door in the morning. There are so many terrible things in this world, why do we bother fighting?" He blinked a few times, trying to think of what he should say next. This was not you.

"You can't save everyone. You know that, we all know that. But to say you don't ever really save anyone? You know that isn't true. You help take some of the worst examples of humanity off the streets. You may not always save the initial victim, but you save countless from becoming them." He was begging you to hear him. You wiped an almost escapes tear from the corner of your eye.

"So they can just be annihilated by another monster."

"What happened?" He urged for more information. You closed your eyes as you described the scene. A perfect formation of 12 graves with correlating bodies covered right next to them. CSU combing the scene for any shred of evidence. Dogs barking in the background as they searched for any other possible burial grounds. You saved her for last. He remembered her, of course he did. You had worked so hard with her to prep for trial, getting her through withdrawals from the drugs she used to self medicate, getting her set up with a real chance at a future. He didn't know what it was about this particular victim. You typically kept them at arms length. You were excellent with dealing with victims, helping them, but you never really let them in. You had clear boundaries. You didn't let them touch your life, except this one.

"When I talked to her last, she had made Dean's list. She was so excited. We were going to make plans for lunch or dinner, but then another case came that consumed me. When I finally realized how long it had been since I had heard from her, I tried calling. I went to her apartment, her landlord let me in and I could tell she hadn't been there in a while. You can always tell, you know? There was a stillness. The friends she had made hadn't heard from her or seen her. I went to the restaurant where she waits tables and there had been some guy that came in just to see her. Her made her uncomfortable, from what they said, but nothing she couldn't handle. Then she stopped showing up. Raf, I thought she got hooked on drugs again. I should have known better."

He caught the slip. You never called him Raf at work. Only if they happened to be getting a drink or something to eat, when they talked about anything other than what they had to deal with at work.

"How could you have known? We both know the chances of relapsing. Anyone else would go that route first."

"It's been a month since I spoke to her. What if there is no evidence?"

"Don't do this to yourself. This is not your fault. We will find him. Someone with that many victims? There will be something once they start getting IDs."

"I try so hard to not let this all get to me. It's gut wrenching, every day. I don't know how not to feel this anymore. I don't think there is much more room in Pandora's box." He studied your profile for a moment, brushing his knuckle over your cheek. When you didn't flinch away he put his arm around you and you turned into him.

"You can't block out every feeling and you certainly cannot stuff them down. They always come back to the surface, when you need them the least. Worst of all, you push out any good feelings too." The warmth of him was soothing. After that scene, you didn't know if you would ever feel warm again. You let the scent of his cologne invade your senses soothing you.

"I know." You finally acquiesced. "I've blocked out something really good too." You wanted him to take you away from all of this. Maybe keeping him outside of that cracked armor was a mistake.

"You can grieve her, but you can't let it consume you. I know that you cared about her, but it's not on you." Your body deflated against him. A few tears fell from your eyes and onto his hand. "Hey...hey..." he turned more towards you and tilted your head so he could see your face. He wiped your tears away. "We will find whoever did this and I will put him away for the rest of his life, okay?" She nodded.

"I need to get back to the precinct and see if there are any updates." He helped you stand up.

"Meet me later? The usual?" It just hit you that you had a usual. You nodded. He was still holding onto you from helping you up. He pulled you into a hug. You stood there for a moment escaping in him for just a little bit longer before slowly pulling yourself from his arms.

"Yeah, that would nice. I'll let you know if I hear anything in the meantime." He nodded and didn't take his eyes off of you as you walked out of his office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had gone home and showered. Liv had made you leave early. They had a metric ton of evidence to process. She had been there before. Every once in a while, a victim gets under your skin.

You had changed into your favorite outfit, wanting to feel comfortable in your own skin. When you walked into the restaurant, he was already there, typing furiously on his cellphone with a scotch next to him. You stopped and just watched him for a moment. He must have felt your eyes on him because he looked up and gave you a smile. You felt yourself smile back at him and went and sat down, your favorite drink waiting for you.

"Well look at you." It felt like his eyes were burning through you. "Feeling a little better?" You nodded.

"You know Liv. I swear she stays in therapy so she can therapize the rest of us." He laughed.

"You're probably right. The Sergeant is a wise one. She's done it for me a few times too."

"I find that hard to believe Counselor. Don't you have the answer to everything?" You teased. Being with him just made things better. He made the emptiness inside you disappear. His eyes twinkled a little when he took a sip of his scotch, a smile pulling at his lips.

"Careful Detective, sounds like you're admitting I know everything." You rolled your eyes at him. He had put away his phone to put his focus on you. His arm was stretched out across the table. You took a long sip of your drink and then placed your hand near his so your fingers brushed he immediately took a hold of your hand and brushed his thumb over your knuckles. When you didn't pull away again, he spoke again.

"Do you want to know what she's been helping me with?" The intensity of his look left you speechless, so you nodded.

"How to get the person I love to open themselves up to me because I am pretty confident they feel the same." His eyes were locked on yours, boldness radiating from him.

"And what..." you cleared your throat. "What did she say?" Your voice went up awkwardly at the end.

"That I should stop being stupid and postponing joy because life is too short. Also to make sure I disclose. She was very adamant about that." You felt your mouth go completely dry. His fingers laced with yours. "What do you think of Liv's advice."

"It's um...good advice." What happened today, was eye opening to you. You needed more than just your job. You were walking through life numb and you didn't want to be that person anymore.

"Are you just going to leave me hanging?" His hand, still laced in yours, his thumb rubbing acrossed a small patch of skin sent electricity through your body.

"I...I have been living my life half alive going through the motions to keep myself numb. The only time I ever feel whole is when I'm with you. I look for you, in any room. How do you even have to ask?"

"I need to hear you say it." Your confession had hit him in a profound way, yet he still needed those three words. He watched as you downed the rest of your drink. He wasn't going to push you. He knew you needed some time, it was a big ask, especially having it sprung on you.

"I love you too Rafael, of course I love you too." He released your hand and stood up, which confused you for a moment.

"Are you coming?" He stood, waiting for you to get out of your seat. You nodded and stood up, he grabbed your hand and led you out of the bar. You had essentially been in a relationship without a label. Dinner after a long day. Drinks after a hard case. Late night chats when you couldn't sleep. Texts throughout the day checking in.

You walked in silence, hand in hand. You knew he was leading you to his apartment so you could have the privacy you both craved. Before you knew it, you were outside your door and he was unlocking it.

Once inside, he descended on you. When his lips connected with yours, it was like someone lit a fire inside of you. His hand on the side of your neck, his other hand slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. You had one hand on the knot of his tie, the other weaving into the hairs on the back of his head.

His lips traveled down your jawline and down your neck. His lips slowly trailed back up and then his tongue was snaking back into your mouth. You couldn't believe you waited this long to do this. That you had denied yourself this feeling of being a complete person.

He finally had to break the kiss to catch his breath, wresting his forehead against yours. The hand that was holding his tie slid down his chest and inside his jacket to rest on his back.

"I'm sorry...I just have been wanting to do that for so long. Once I knew, I couldn't hold myself back."

"I wasn't exactly protesting." You saw him smile, his hand running down the side of your body gripping your hip.

"I...I don't want to pressure you." He whispered. You captured his lips in yours again and pulled him flush against you. You felt him groan into your mouth, once you had to catch your breath again, he took your hand. "C'mon..." he pulled you further into his apartment. You knew at that moment you would follow him for the rest of your life. You had wasted enough time.

[bishopsbelova]

Dominick Carisi and Olivia Benson Law & Order SVU 26.07

[wandasaura]

ITS SIN

summary — when the weight of your day finally catches up to you, you find yourself tethered to the precinct with olivia

warning(s) — dom/sub dynamics, established relationship, age gap relationship, power imbalance, authority kink, domestic dominance, implied mommy kink, praise, soft affirmations, pet names, primarily comfort, light hurt/angst mentions of a shooting, alluded to anxiety, very lightly implied anxious attachment style, maybe illusions to subspace, olivia ‘pick your poison babe, i’m poison either way’ benson, men/minors dni

authors note — this was written by high aura on a whim. happy 4/20. this was not proofread nor edited and literally not a single thing on this blog ever has been or will be. part two here.

You shouldn’t be here. You should’ve left hours ago, but there’s a gentle glow coming from beneath an office door, and you’re reminded that you’re not alone, that you’re never alone — anywhere you go, she’ll be there; at work, at home, at the corner store across from her apartment with Noah when you’re just trying to surprise her with flowers — her favorite flowers, the kind that die in days but evoke a smile anytime the eye catches their colors. It’s wrong, straight up sinful really, dating your boss, engaging in explicit sexual scenarios with your superior officer, letting personal mix with professional, but you crave her like a rugged addict. Maybe you’ve never experienced addiction. Not true, stone cold, shivering, bone shattering addiction, but you’ve experienced Olivia Benson, and her withdrawal symptoms come at a much larger price. She’s unavoidable poison, and she takes pleasure in your pain. Distance pulls your heart to shreds, but proximity gets you drunk. Either way, she’s compromised you, but you’re too far in it to care anymore.

The blinds are drawn, an attempt to dissuade any disruptions. You know she wants to get back to Noah, how she likes to spend her nights, and how she gets unruly when things go unexpectedly even though she’s been within the claws of unpredictability for decades. You know her skin is stained with blood from its sharp unforgiving grasp over the years, and you can only think of how it’s probably slickening with more as the unpredictable crimes of New York City keep her tethered to her desk like she’s the criminal. You want to go in. Every muscle aches to be caressed beneath her fingers. You want to sit with her, share the lemonade you just pulled out of the vending machine, but you couldn’t possibly pull her away. Not when you’re the reason she’s here.

You swallow thickly, not sure if you want the lemonade anymore. You feel queasy, hot and cold. The belt around your waist had been noticeable when you’d gotten dressed this morning, and it’s outright insufferable now. You know your skin is rubbed raw, red and probably irritated. The marks on your thighs had been just as raw days ago, but bearing those had been different, consensual and somewhat dizzying. There’s no room for arousal at the memory of Olivia between your thighs when you so violently remember how you’d frozen during a chase. How you could’ve detained the suspect before he’d shot himself if you’d just moved faster when he turned the gun on himself after shooting at your feet. Your heart hammers now. You can hear the gunshot. Feel the reverberations through the bones in your feet even though there’s no bullet mark on these tiles. You shake your head. You told 1PP you were okay. You’d been cleared by psych. Everything that should’ve been broken was intact, but everything that could be broken and allow you to still function was shattered into a million pieces.

You’d never been shot at before.

Not like that. Not with the wind in your face, the blush in your cheeks, the clip already half empty. It was a messy fight. He shot back behind him. You shot head of yourself, only ever missing him by an inch as he weaved and zipped. You fired your gun twice. He fired nine. Seven shots had missed. Bouncing off windows, cars, bricks. One had so nearly grazed your toe for a second you wondered if it was gone. The second after that he had shot himself, and you thought it was you. Olivia had run past you, you only know because her fingers brushed your side as she made sure the suspect was dead and you’d never mistake the tingles she provoked, and that was the only confirmation that you hadn’t been shot before you’d been thrown around by medics and officers all questioning you, only some concerned about your health.

Your fingers pass across the cold metal of a broach pinned to your right pocket. It’s important to note that it wasn’t a necklace. Not one that would tangle on your hair when you ran. Not a bracelet that could catch on the safety of your gun or the brackets of the taser holstered to your belt. It’s a thoughtful sentiment. A meaningful one. A small mouse head sits sparkly against the dark thread of your slacks. Sterling silver. A notable addition. One that keeps you pushing toward one day having a metal to decorate you as a detective instead of a pin that represents a stupid nickname in the department. Mousey. Benson’s creation.

You live up to that name as you continue past her office, the only evidence of your prolonged presence in the precinct the scrape of the rolling chairs wheels on the floor. Your body feels heavy as you fall into the cushions. You set the lemonade down, sure it’ll stay there to die until Olivia inevitably grabs it off your desk and throws it away. The paperwork is standard follow-up, something that can certainly wait until the end of the week when everyone else stays late to overcompensate for the things they pushed off, but you can’t leave. Something tethers you to the precinct the same way it chains Benson to her desk. If you leave, you’re out there again, and the streets of Manhattan have never felt so unsafe; so changed. You’d been in SVU six months, but every day was opening your eyes to fears you’d ignorantly thought out of reach.

It could’ve been minutes, but it might’ve been hours before something shifted in the quiet building. The buzz of every device in the room quieted, letting you hear the creek of hinges behind your back. Olivia. You want to fall into her, to crash against her, but you failed today. You didn’t step up despite her laying the stepping stones for it to be possible. It wasn’t the end of the world. In the end, a criminal got taken down, but this wasn’t just about karma coming around. For six months Olivia had gone to bat for you. She’s taken you beneath her wing and you let her down. That’s never felt good, and it certainly doesn’t now.

“Sweetheart,” Olivia’s voice calls for you, sweet, soft, dripping with velvet affection. “Come see me, hm?” She attempts to draw you in, even opens her arms and nods her head toward her off in just the oddly specific way she knows makes your heart soar, but you don’t look up from the black ink stained page to realize she’s putting this much into comforting you.

She should’ve comforted you before — you’d wanted her to comfort you before. When you’d thought you’d been shot twice. When your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands were trembling and you could see the way all of your wrong doings piled up on her shoulders in an instant. It was too late now. You felt submerged in the weight of your guilt and anxiety. You were drowning in your feelings, beneath the crushing knowledge that you’d disappointed her; the one person who’d ever seen you.

When she realized you were purposefully ignoring her, your muscles flexing in unconscious acknowledgment of her presence, her jaw set, and her eyes narrowed. She hadn’t seen it before. You’d put up a mask of indifference and she’d let herself accept it, but just the simple fact that you’re still here says enough. She doesn’t think you realize that you do it, that you gravitate to her like an affection craving kitten seeking attention, but you do, and that need for closeness only strengthens when you’re distressed.

Olivia’s heart hammers with guilt. She knows that you can handle so much. You’ve proven that fact and yourself time and time again — in ways you weren’t even aware of — but so often you fell short recognized your own personal needs and feelings. As she’d learned you, memorized your every emotion beneath her fingertips, your heartbeats pulsing as close as they possibly could, she’d learned that certain events and feelings could leave you fuzzy, uncomfortable in your own skin, grappling for structure that gives way at the slightest touch. Your misstep had caused quite the commotion within 1PP and the precinct, it had pulled her away because it was job, but she can’t let that keep happening. You’re hers. She loves her job, honors her duty and serves it fully, but you’re worth more. At that moment, Olivia decides she’s done with paperwork for the night.

“Detective.” Paperwork may be done, but the badge hasn’t yet been unclasped from her waistband, and she can’t help but take advantage of that — of you. “My office. Now.” Her voice is thin, leaving no room for arguments of failure to comply. Your insides bristle. Prickly and uncomfortable. Her tone sent shockwaves through your bone marrow.

You need her.

When you still remain stationary, heavy in the rolling chair clutching your favorite black clicky pen that Olivia steals to sign rushed documents, she clicks her tongue demandingly, rolling out the kinks in her neck. “Detective, that was not a suggestion.”

You bristle again, but you swallow that sharp sting of stubbornness to finally give into the yearning in your bones. Your body moves towards her automatically, and when you blink up at her, swayed by the authority in her hard stare, she knows it’ll only take a moment before you’re in the palm of your hand, the way you should’ve been hours ago.

She lets the office door close behind her body before she draws you into her chest in a manner that convinces you to sink against her. “Hi, sweetheart.” Her ribcage rattles beneath your cheek, her fingers twisting into your hair and pulling down, gently tugging the roots behind your ear — your weak spot, one of the quickest ways to get you to crumble that Olivia has found. You preen, knees buckling, and Olivia smiles tenderly. “Look at you.” She cooed, her fingers trailing across your cheekbone now, so high that your eyes flutter closed on instinct. The darkness that consumes you paired with the heat of her touch only draws you into that fuzziness further. “You’ve had quite the day, haven’t you?”

You nod, just slightly, your eyes still closed even though her hands have wandered down to your waist, unbuttoning your pants that she knows are driving you crazy. You sigh when the pressure is released, and her fingers do wonders to ease the string where material had rubbed soft skin raw.

“I need words, my love.” She encourages, tilting your chin upward until your eyes meet hers. They're so soft. The love she holds for you makes your eyes sting, and your lip quivers at the release of all the emotions you’ve been keeping inside.

“Yes.” You whisper, the words hoarse as they cut through the air, slice your throat. Your lips downturn, something Olivja anticipated. You never were a fan of her religious checks for consent and understanding, and when you found yourself in this state, drunk beneath her affection and overworked from life, you don’t exactly have a way with words.

“And I wasn’t very attentive, was I?” She frowns sympathetically, letting you know that she’s aware of her shortcoming in your relationship, even if you never expected her to guide your flight through life at every new gust of wind. You shook your head tentatively, because you know she wants an answer, and she accepts it. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I’m here now. I’m here now. Just let me have you, okay? That’s all I need you to do for me.”

“Okay.” You whisper, because the prospect of falling into your roles, your discussed dynamic, it just sounds too tempting after thinking your life had met an untimely end. Maybe some would call that dramatic, but some things couldn’t be explained. Something changed today, your perspective had been more fragile than you’d realized.

“Okay.” She nodded, patting your cheeks before she let you go, “Come on, we’re just gonna sit down for a little while, okay?” Olivia asked softly, guiding your languished body toward her couch. It wasn’t as comfortable as the King sized bed in her bedroom, but it made for a decent spot to steal five minutes of affection throughout the day. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

Olivia sat down first, and the look that crossed your face was one she wished she could memorize. Your lips downturned, your eyes glassy and wide in betrayal. A short whine slipped out, but before you could stamp your foot into the ground, though it would’ve been a welcomed sight, Olivia clicked her tongue disapprovingly at your impatience and guided you into her lap by the belt loops on your pants — and action that always made you feel small.

You sighed in content when she allowed you to sink into her chest, moving your hair and hers away from her chest so you could feel the soft pulse of her skin beneath yours directly. She didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t needed. Her fingers thrumming against your back, her breath against the shell of your ear, her perfume surrounding you… it was enchanting.

“Your strong, sweetheart, but you don’t always have to be.” She reminded you, and even though she’d been speaking those words to you for months, they only just settled in now, and your blissful state amplified.

Olivia chuckled warmly when you nuzzled your face up into her neck, blocking out the office light until that comfortable darkness got to you again. Olivia didn’t let you get too comfortable, she never let you get too comfortable. The unpredictability of her love was adventurous and addictive, another dilemma to conquer whenever distance forced your heart to grieve what wasn’t dead, just suspended. Before you could fall asleep, your breathing enough indication to say that was coming, Olivia tapped your thigh, shifting with the motivation to stand.

You whined, shaking your head, grabbing a fistful of her blazer to assert your claim over her even if she was in charge. You didn’t want her to leave, to be any farther away then she already was right now. “None of that, come on, let’s go, sweetheart. We can get you home and all comfy.”

When you remained unmoving, she tried another approach, trailing her fingers up your thigh until the tickle of her touch became prickles of arousal you weren’t at liberty to shove aside at this time. Your breath caught and Olivia smirked knowing you were in the palm of her hand. “The sooner we get home, the sooner we can work out some of these knots, baby girl.” She coed, her fingers curling around the fleshy part of your thigh until your breath trembled and your eyelashes fluttered tellingly.

“Good girl.” Olivia cooed, and guided you up when your persistence gave way. She didn’t bother buttoning your pants again, just fixed your shirt to cover the bulge where metal stuck out, and nodded her satisfaction. “Alright, home now, little Mouse.”

[theartofcollapse]

hey idk if this crosses a line with anything but maybe an olivia imagine where the reader got spiked while at a bar and called olivia when she realized something felt wrong and liv shows up and takes her home and kind of just takes care of her

a/n: thank you for requesting! summary: read it above pairing: Olivia Benson x female reader warnings: mention of drugs, vomiting word count: 1.7K

masterlist

Safe – Olivia Benson

The bar buzzed with energy as patrons crowded around tables, clinking glasses and laughing over the pounding music. You had come here to unwind after a long week, convinced by a coworker that a night out would help clear your head. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

The first drink went down fine, just a light buzz to loosen the tension in your shoulders. But the second drink? That’s when you noticed something wasn’t right.

The world around you blurred, and your limbs felt heavy. Your head swam, thoughts sluggish and disconnected. You leaned against the bar for balance, your hand fumbling for your phone in your bag. Panic rose in your chest. You hadn’t had that much to drink.

You scrolled through your contacts, your fingers trembling as you found Olivia’s name. You hadn’t known her for long, just a few weeks, but there was something about her calm presence, her unwavering sense of justice, that made you feel safe.

The phone rang twice before she picked up.

“Y/N?” Her voice was steady but tinged with concern.

“Olivia,” you slurred, your words heavy on your tongue. “Something’s wrong. I.. I think someone put something in my drink.”

There was a pause, sharp and deliberate. “Where are you?”

You rattled off the name of the bar as best as you could, clinging to the edge of the counter.

“Stay right there,” Olivia said, her voice firm and reassuring. “I’m on my way. Don’t move, and don’t let anyone near you.”

You clung to those words like a lifeline, your vision growing hazier by the second.

The blur of neon lights and muffled sounds began to sharpen as Olivia entered the bar. She scanned the room with practiced precision, her eyes landing on you slumped at the counter. Her jaw tightened, and she moved through the crowd with purpose.

“Y/N,” she said softly, crouching beside you. She placed a steadying hand on your arm. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”

You blinked up at her, relief flooding through you. “Olivia…”

Her hand brushed your hair back from your face. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay.”

Standing, Olivia’s sharp gaze swept the room. It didn’t take long for her to spot a man lingering a few seats away, watching you with a nervous, guilty expression.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she pulled out her phone, stepping just far enough away to call Elliot.

“Elliot,” she said, her voice low but firm. “I need you at the Silver Moon Bar. Now. There’s a suspect I need picked up, possible drugging.”

Elliot didn’t hesitate. “I’m on my way.”

Olivia returned to your side, placing a protective arm around your shoulders. “We’re going to get you out of here,” she said, guiding you gently to your feet.

The man tried to slink away, but Olivia’s sharp command stopped him in his tracks. “Don’t even think about it.”

Her presence alone was enough to keep him rooted in place until Elliot arrived, his arrival swift and professional as he handcuffed the man and read him his rights.

The drive to Olivia’s apartment was quiet, her car filled with the soft hum of the heater. 

Once inside her apartment, Olivia guided you to the couch, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders.

“Do you want some water? Tea?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“Water, please,” you murmured, your throat dry.

She disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later with a glass of water and a cool cloth, which she placed lightly on your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

Olivia knelt in front of you, her warm brown eyes meeting yours. “Hey,” she said softly, her hand resting lightly on your knee. “You did the right thing. You called me, and I’m glad you did.”

Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming fear and vulnerability of the night finally catching up to you. Olivia didn’t hesitate, pulling you into a firm but gentle embrace.

“You’re safe now,” she murmured, her voice steady and comforting. “I promise.”

Olivia’s grip tightened ever so slightly as she felt you shudder in her arms. You pulled back abruptly, your body lurching with nausea.

“Bathroom - ” you managed to choke out before clapping a hand over your mouth.

Olivia was on her feet instantly, guiding you down the hall to her bathroom. She helped you kneel in front of the toilet just as the wave of nausea overtook you. You vomited, your stomach twisting violently, and tears streamed down your face from the strain.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Olivia murmured from behind you. She knelt beside you, her hand holding your hair back while her other gently rubbed circles on your back.

Once the worst of it was over, you sagged against the side of the tub, trembling. Sweat beaded on your forehead, and you were suddenly aware of how cold you felt despite your overheated skin.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice weak and shaky.

Olivia grabbed a washcloth, running it under cool water before gently pressing it to your clammy face. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault,” she said firmly, her voice carrying that steady authority that made you feel safe.

The bathroom felt too bright, too small, and the nausea lingered, though not as violently as before. You curled in on yourself, shivering despite the sweat that clung to your skin.

“You’re freezing,” Olivia noted, worry flickering across her face. She grabbed a blanket she’d left on the couch earlier and draped it over your shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here. You’ll feel better lying down.”

You nodded faintly, letting her help you to your feet. Your legs felt like jelly, and she practically carried you down the hall to her bedroom.

“I don’t want to ruin your bed,” you protested weakly, clutching at the blanket.

“Y/N, don’t worry about that,” Olivia said softly, but her tone left no room for argument. She helped you onto the bed, tucking the covers around you snugly.

“Stay here,” she instructed, brushing the hair from your face again. “I’m going to grab some water and a bucket, just in case.”

You nodded, your teeth chattering now. The cold seeped deep into your bones, and you couldn’t stop trembling.

Olivia returned quickly, setting a glass of water and a bucket by the bedside. She sat down beside you, her eyes scanning your pale face.

“You’re still sweating,” she noted, reaching out to feel your forehead. “And you’re burning up. You might need a doctor, Y/N.”

“No,” you croaked, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off.”

Olivia frowned, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she reached for your hand, her touch grounding and reassuring. “Alright,” she said softly. “But if it gets worse, we’re going. No arguments.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering shut.

As the hours ticked by, the symptoms ebbed and flowed. Every time you stirred - whether it was to sip water, wipe away sweat, or lean over the bucket - Olivia was there. She stayed by your side, her unwavering presence a balm to the storm raging inside you.

By the time the first rays of dawn crept through the window, the worst of it had passed. You were still weak, your body aching and your throat raw, but the cold sweats had subsided, and your nausea was manageable.

“Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely, looking up at Olivia, who sat in the chair beside the bed, her hand resting on yours.

She gave you a small, tired smile. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters.”

Safe. That word lingered in your mind as you drifted off again. 

When you woke again, sunlight was spilling through the windows, and Olivia was still in the chair beside you. She had her phone in one hand, her other resting casually on your arm. The faint lines of worry etched on her face softened when she noticed your eyes fluttering open.

“Hey,” she greeted gently, leaning forward. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck,” you croaked, your throat dry and voice hoarse. Then you managed a faint smile, despite everything. “This isn’t exactly how I imagined our next date going.”

Olivia’s lips curved into a small smile, though concern still lingered in her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t usually plan for my dates to include throwing up and police intervention.”

You let out a weak laugh, even though it hurt. “It’s a bold strategy,” you teased. “Really sets the tone for a relationship. How many people do you bring home after arresting someone for them?”

“Only the ones who know how to keep me on my toes,” she shot back smoothly, the glimmer of amusement in her eyes breaking through her worry.

You grinned, though it didn’t quite hide your embarrassment. “I mean, most people wait until, like, date ten before they start sweating through someone else’s sheets and crying in their bathroom. I just like to skip straight to the memorable parts.”

Olivia chuckled softly, shaking her head. “For the record, this isn’t the worst date I’ve been on. But it’s definitely one of the more dramatic.”

You groaned, covering your face with one hand. “Oh, God. Worst impression ever. I’m supposed to be charming and cool, not… this.”

She leaned closer, her hand gently brushing yours away from your face so she could look at you. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice grounding you again. “You don’t need to be charming or cool right now. What happened wasn’t your fault. And if this is your worst impression, you’re doing pretty well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in your chest at her words. “You’re really good at this whole ‘making someone feel safe’ thing, you know that?”

Her expression softened, her hand lingering on yours. “I try. And, for the record, I think you’re handling this a lot better than most people would.”

You sighed, settling back into the pillows. “Well, if I didn’t scare you off last night, I guess I’m doing okay.”

Olivia smirked, her eyes twinkling with affection. “It’s going to take a lot more than one rough night to scare me off, Y/N.”

[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.”

[fatecantstopme]

That’s Not What I See

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: You're a crime analyst on the Manhattan SVU squad. You've been attracted to Elliot Stabler since you first met him, but you knew there was no way he'd be into you. Men who looked like him never were...at least that's what you thought.

Warnings: Use of pet names. Cursing. Mentions of self-esteem issues. SMUT, praise kink, oral (F receiving), multiple orgasm, unprotected sex (P in V)

You walked into the office gym at 5am, thinking there wouldn't be anyone else there. You hated working out, especially in front of other people. Normally, you used the gym in your apartment building, but it was under construction, so you decided to sneak into the office early.

You'd thrown on leggings and a slightly too small t-shirt, and you were tugging on the shirt uncomfortably as you walked into the gym. You just wanted to get on the treadmill for an hour, but your plans were interrupted when you heard soft grunts coming from across the room.

You froze, hoping whoever it was wouldn't notice you. You moved towards the treadmill quietly, using it as a shield so you could see who was in the room without them seeing you.

From your angle, all you could see was a man's legs on the weight bench across the room. He was laying down and preparing for another rep. When his arms came into view, you let out an involuntary gasp. The Marine Corps tattoo on his right arm was a dead giveaway...it was Elliot Stabler.

He racked the weight bar and sat up, eyes looking in your direction. You knew he couldn't see you, but he must have heard your gasp. Shit, you thought to yourself.

"Hello?" he called.

You decided it would be weird if you didn't respond, so you stepped out from behind the treadmill and gave him a little awkward wave. "Good morning."

He smiled warmly when you came into view. "Morning, (Y/N)."

You could feel his eyes on you, boring holes into your skin, and you tugged on your shirt again. You suddenly wished you'd worn something a little looser, but you hadn't expected to see anyone, least of all him.

"Since when do you come to the gym before dawn?" he asked as he stood up and started walking towards you.

"I--uh--I...normally I don't--umm, I use the gym at home. It's being renovated."

"I see." He stopped right in front of you, giving you an up close and personal view of his beautiful body. Every inch of him was toned, muscles flexing under his skin. "I kinda like having the company."

You let out an awkward chuckle. "I was just gonna...umm--use the treadmill?"

He smiled again and your heart nearly stopped in your chest. "Go for it, doll. You don't need my permission."

You grabbed onto the arm of the treadmill to keep you upright--the term of endearment making your knees buckle. "Yeah," you mumbled.

"Let me know if you need anything." With that, he walked back over to the weight rack to finish his reps.

You were about 5 minutes away from having a full blown heart attack, but it would be super awkward if you left the gym now. So you climbed onto the treadmill and started walking at a steady pace. You did your best to keep your eyes forward, but you could feel Elliot looking at you every time he sat up.

After several minutes, he stood up and came across the room towards you. "Mind if I--?" he asked, gesturing to the machine beside you.

"Oh--uhh, sure," you stammered.

He smiled and got onto the elliptical.

You'd been sucking in your stomach as much as possible since the moment he noticed you...it was restricting your ability to breathe properly, but you didn't care. Standing next to a man who looked that good made you feel incredibly uncomfortable, frumpy even.

"How you liking SVU so far?"

Fuck, now he's gonna ask me questions? I already can't breathe. "I like it, but it's not easy work."

He nodded. "No it's not, but it's rewarding."

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"You're the first crime analyst we've ever had on the squad."

"I know," you said quickly. "I hope I'm adding value."

"You add a lot of value, both to the work we do and to the general morale of the squad."

"Oh," you said in surprise. "I, uhh, I appreciate that."

He chuckled lightly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you said tentatively.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"What?" you asked in genuine surprise. "Why would you think that?"

"Well...you don't make eye contact with me very often and you stutter a lot when you talk to me--like you're flustered."

"I promise, it's not because you make me uncomfortable." It's because every time I see you, I want you to rip my clothes off and bend me over your desk.

You could feel his eyes on you, almost like he was scanning you--trying to decide if you were being honest. You didn't dare turn your head, you'd either fall on your face or reveal the thoughts in your head.

"Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure," he said with a smile. "I like you, (Y/N)...I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

That tiny naive voice in the back of your mind squealed he likes me! but the more logical part of your brain ignored it. A man that looked like that was not interested in a woman who looked like you.

"I appreciate that," you mumbled. You'd only been on the treadmill for 40 minutes, but you decided that was more than enough. You wanted to get the hell outta there. You hit 'stop' on the machine and hopped off. "I'm gonna hit the shower. See you in the squad room."

"Okay. See you there."

20 minutes later, you were seated comfortably at your desk, going over some reports you needed to write.

You felt Elliot's presence before you saw him, and you did your best to act nonchalant. He walked up to the desk across from yours and leaned against it. He'd clearly showered and was now dressed in his usual slacks and a button down, sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms and his tattoo.

"You smell really good," he commented. "Body wash or perfume?"

"Oh, uhh--maybe both?" It better be that damn perfume. It was expensive.

He smiled. "Well if it's the perfume, I'd recommend wearing it more often. It smells delicious." He shot you a wink before walking over to his own desk and sitting down.

You couldn't help but wonder if this man knew the effect he had on you and if that was why he was flirting with you. Was he even flirting? Hell, you had no idea. The hotter the man, the more awkward you became. You had a hell of a time reading them and it had messed you up in the past.

It's not that you had low self-esteem necessarily, it's just that you'd put on a fair amount of weight in the last couple years and it definitely affected your self-confidence. Hence why you'd started going to the gym every day...you wanted to get that young, happy, thinner version of you back.

As the day progressed, you forgot all about your encounter with Elliot that morning. It was a busy day and it flew by. Before you knew it, it was after 7pm and you were still curled up at your desk, typing away on your computer.

You heard a throat clear to your left and you turned to glare at whomever it was that dared to interrupt you. "Oh, Elliot!" you exclaimed in surprise. "I figured you'd gone home by now."

"I thought you would have too," he said with a shrug. "I'm actually just heading out now, but I wanted to see if you were hungry."

At that exact moment, your stomach let out a little grumble. You realized you'd worked straight through lunch and you were starving. "I could eat."

He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't eat lunch, so I'm betting you're starving."

He was paying that much attention? "Yeah, you're right. It's probably time to get the hell outta here anyway."

"My thoughts exactly. Come on, I'll take you home. We can get dinner on the way--my treat."

You normally took the subway, but it was after dark and the squad didn't like you walking home or riding the subway alone. "Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It's not a chore, (Y/N). We can stop anywhere you'd like."

You bit your lip as you thought about it. You really should turn him down, but if you'd learned anything in your time with SVU, it was that being a woman in New York was dangerous enough without walking alone at night.

"There's a little pizza shop by my apartment," you conceded.

He grinned. "How'd you know I was thinking pizza?"

You laughed. "You eat it all the time...you must think pizza is a vegetable."

He laughed. "It's delicious. Grab your coat."

You hurried to pack up, then you threw on your coat and followed him out to his car. It was a chilly night, but the sky was clear and the air was crisp.

Elliot made small talk on the way to the pizza place. You were thankful that he carried the majority of the conversation and you couldn't wait to have food to occupy your mouth with so you wouldn't sound like such an idiot.

"I don't think I've ever been here," he commented as he found a parking spot near the shop.

"It's the absolute best," you insisted enthusiastically.

He smiled at your animation. "This is the most excited I've ever seen you."

You blushed. "I like food."

"So do I...and I'm starving, so let's go in."

As soon as you walked in the door, you heard a thick Italian accent yell your name. "(Y/N)! Looking beautiful as ever."

You smiled at the older man, embracing him when he came around the counter for a hug. "You're too sweet, Gio."

After he released you from the bear hug, he turned to look at Elliot, clearly sizing him up. "Who is this?"

"This is Elliot. We work together," you said reassuringly. "Elliot, this is Giovanni Romano, owner and chef extraordinaire."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Elliot said as he extended his hand for a shake.

Gio looked him up and down, and apparently decided he liked him because he smiled really wide and said, "No handshakes! We hug here," before wrapping a surprised Elliot into a hug.

You laughed at the look on Elliot's face. Gio finally let him go and Elliot looked relieved, if not a little shocked.

"Maria!" Gio yelled towards the back. "La principessa is here with il innamorato."

You turned red as a tomato and prayed Elliot didn't speak Italian. "Gio!" you hissed.

"My principessa?" Maria yelled as she came out of the kitchen. She bustled over to where you were still standing by the door.

"She's Gio's wife," you whispered to Elliot a millisecond before she grabbed you in a tight hug.

She then turned her attention to Elliot. She nodded approvingly and turned to whisper to you, "Lui è bello."

You blushed again. "Sì," you mumbled back. "Now silenzio, per favore."

She smiled at you and gave your cheek an affectionate tap. "What can we get the two of you, amorino?"

You smiled. "Two of your best pies, Maria." You turned to Elliot, realizing he might not want you to order for him. "If that's okay with you."

He smiled. "I trust you."

"Two pies coming up!" Maria said with a smile. She grabbed Gio and practically dragged him towards the kitchen with her. You could hear her talking about Elliot and you in Italian and it made you laugh.

Elliot followed you to a table near the back of the small building. "So, uh...you come here often?"

You blushed. "Nearly every day when I was in school," you said honestly. "The food is delicious, cheap, and there's free WIFI. Plus, Gio and Maria have become like family to me."

"They seem really sweet."

You smiled fondly. "They're the best. I don't have any family of my own, but they both kinda took me under their wings...like an Aunt and Uncle."

"That's very kind of them."

Gio appeared with two waters, before he disappeared again with a wink in your direction.

"I didn't know you spoke Italian."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Gio and Maria taught me. I ended up minoring in Italian at NYU."

"So, uh...what did they say about me?"

"Hmmm?" you pretended not to know what he was talking about...you really didn't want to answer him.

"Come on, I know they were talking about me."

"Maria said you were handsome, that's all."

He raised his eyebrow. "Why don't I believe you?"

"She did!" you insisted.

"I don't think that's the only thing she said."

You blushed.

"You're blushing."

"It's warm in here."

"No, it's not. Just tell me what she said."

You bit your lip. "Do I have to?"

He laughed. "No, but I'd really like to know."

"Technically that's all Maria said. Gio, on the other hand...well, he called you my um...well in Italian it means 'lover', but you can think of it more like boyfriend, I guess? Or maybe more like sweetheart?" you rambled.

Elliot laughed heartily. He enjoyed watching you fumble for what to say. It was endearing and incredibly cute. "I hope you didn't correct them."

You nearly spit out your water. "What?"

"Well, if you're as close to them as you seem to be...then they would know if you were seeing someone right?"

You nodded.

"And their assumption that I'm your lover means you're not seeing anyone?"

You nodded again, clearly uncomfortable.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Good." He picked up his water and took a long drink, eyes never leaving yours.

What the actual fuck is happening? "I'm confused."

He shrugged. "Let me put it this way, I'm honored they would think I'm your lover."

You choked on nothing but air. "Excuse me?"

He smiled again, wider than before. He leaned in closer to make sure no one but you could hear his next words. "I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. You stared at him in shocked silence for what felt like an eternity.

Like a little Italian savior, Maria appeared beside the table with her famous focaccia.

You grabbed a piece of the delicious bread and took a massive bite, despite the fact that it was fresh from the oven. It burned your mouth, but you didn't care. You needed something to distract you from the words Elliot had just said and the way he was staring at you.

Maria gave you look that said slow down, but she didn't say it out loud. "The rest will be out soon, amorino."

Once Maria was out of ear shot, Elliot asked, "What does amorino mean?"

"Essentially 'little love'. It's a term of endearment," you answered, grateful for the change in topic.

Elliot steered the conversation in other directions for the rest of dinner. He asked you all sorts of questions about your life and answered several of your own. He didn't mention what he'd said earlier, and you were fine pretending it hadn't happened.

After dinner, Elliot insisted on paying the bill, even though Gio tried to comp it. You knew it made Elliot look respectable in Gio's eyes and for some reason, that made you proud.

"I'll pull the car up," Elliot told you before heading outside.

"He's lovely, principessa," Gio said softly.

"I know, but he's just a friend, Gio."

"Ahh, amorino, you are young! You cannot see," he insisted.

"Can't see what?"

"The way he looks at you, (Y/N/N)," Maria said gently as she joined the two of you.

"Like you hung the moon," Gio finished.

"You two are romantics," you said with a laugh.

"Perhaps, but we are old...we've lived. We both know what it means when a man looks at a woman the way Elliot looks at you," Maria assured you.

She wrapped you in a tight hug and Gio followed.

"Now go, principessa," Maria said with a smile. "He's waiting."

You turned to look out the door and sure enough, Elliot was standing on the sidewalk, leaning against the car, waiting for you to come outside.

You said your goodbyes and met Elliot out on the sidewalk. "Fancy meeting you here," you teased.

He smiled. "It's almost like I planned it that way."

You laughed and walked towards the now open passenger side door. Elliot helped you into the car and closed the door before going to his side and getting in.

During the short drive to your apartment, you watched Elliot out of the corner of your eye. You were looking for whatever it was that Gio and Maria insisted they saw. He was relaxed, more so than he ever was at work, and he seemed genuinely comfortable. But comfort and desire were two very different things.

Much sooner than you would have liked, Elliot pulled up in front of your building. This time of night, there wasn't much by way of street parking, but he managed to snag a spot a block away. "I'll walk you in."

"You don't have to," you assured him.

"It's after 9...there are pervs on the street."

You almost laughed, but you knew he was serious. His statement wasn't funny, so much as the way he said it. "Alright, come on."

He followed you to the front door of your building. You punched in the code and the door unlocked. As you pulled it open, you had a sudden burst of confidence.

"Would you like to come up?" you blurted.

You weren't sure who was more surprised, you or Elliot. He certainly recovered faster than you. "I'd love to."

You just nodded awkwardly and held the door for him to follow you in. The two of you took the stairs in silence, a silence that continued all the way to your door. "This is me," you mumbled.

You unlocked the door without looking at him and gestured for him to enter. You were thankful you'd cleaned the apartment the day before, so everything was neat and organized.

"It's a cute place," he commented.

"Thanks," you moved to the kitchen, needing something to do with your hands. "It's all I can afford. Do you--uh, do you want a drink?"

"Sure," he said warmly as he slipped his coat off and draped it over the back of the chair.

You poured him a drink and poured yourself a double. Lord knew you needed a little more liquid courage than he did. You were taking a risk--making a gamble you weren't sure would pay off.

You came into the living room and handed him his drink before sitting on the couch beside him. You left space between you, just in case he wanted there to be some.

You were drinking your beverage a little faster than you should have and he noticed. "You alright?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"Is this about what I said at the restaurant?"

"Umm--uhh--"

"Because I didn't mean to offend you or make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," you said quickly. It had made you uncomfortable, but not in the way he was thinking.

"Okay, good." He took a sip of his drink. "Because I meant it."

You exhaled sharply and he turned to look at you.

He sat his glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to you. "I think about it all the time, (Y/N). I think about you all the time. It's almost annoying--you occupy my thoughts all day every day and I don't know how to deal with it. You make me feel like a teenager again."

You didn't know what to say. You'd dreamed of this happening, but you never actually thought it would. Now that you were sitting in this position, you had no idea what to do.

"I know I'm older than you--hell, I might be too old for you, but I can't help the way I feel. I'll never bring it up again if that's what you want, but I wanted to tell you the truth."

"You're not too old for me," you said quickly.

"How old are you?"

"30."

"Oh," he seemed almost relieved. "I thought you were younger than that...I actually feel better."

You laughed lightly. "10 years isn't all that much."

He shook his head. "Not at our ages."

You fell silent again, unsure what to say next. You finished your drink, then set it on the coffee table beside his. "Why me?"

He looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Why would you want me?"

"Because you're incredible?"

You rolled your eyes. "Elliot, come on. Look at us."

"I don't understand."

You sighed, feeling reluctant to answer. "Look at you. Hot, muscular, in incredible shape. Then look at me. I'm none of those things--I'm overweight, frumpy, and average at best."

He stared at you in silence for a long moment, shock evident in his features. "While I appreciate the compliments, doll, that's not what I see when I look at you."

You almost didn't want to ask, but you had to know. "What do you see?" you whispered.

He moved closer to you so he could take your hand in his. "I see a beautiful woman with warm, caring eyes, and a gentle heart. I see a woman who makes me laugh, a woman who's witty and charming and brilliant. I see the kind of woman I can imagine a future with."

You were breathless by the time he'd finished speaking. No man had ever said anything like that to you before, even before you'd put on weight.

"Do you want more details? I can give you more," he said softly as he leaned forward so his body hovered over yours. You were caged in the corner of the couch and for the first time in a long time, you felt tiny.

You couldn't find the words, so you simply nodded.

He smiled down at you and licked his lips. "I see the sexiest woman I've ever met--a woman I've wanted to touch since the moment I laid eyes on her. Every part of her gorgeous body is perfect...and I want to claim it all as mine," he finished with a soft growl.

Every instinct in your body was screaming at you to just do something and you finally gave in. You wanted this as much as he did, so why not indulge?

You leaned forward and crashed your lips against his, moaning softly as he pulled you closer. He deepened the kiss, desperate to feel as much of you as he could.

You shifted beneath him, allowing him to settle between your legs. He wedged his knee against your crotch and brought his hands down to your sides.

You moaned softly as his lips began to trace your jaw line, then down your neck, then to the sweet spot behind your ear.

You felt his hot breath in your ear as he whispered, "You're so beautiful." You shivered involuntarily and your hips bucked forward in search of friction.

He chuckled softly. "Needy, are we?"

"Yes," you admitted, allowing the desperation to creep into your voice. "Need you."

"Oh sweet thing, don't you worry, I'll take care of you."

"Elliot," you whimpered softly.

He groaned. "God I love hearing you say my name like that."

He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you against him. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him and he whispered, "Good girl."

You shuddered, the praise going right to your core. It didn't go unnoticed by him, and he tucked it in the back of his mind for later.

"Where's the bedroom?"

You pointed to the right and he stood up with you still wrapped around him like a baby koala. "Elliot!" you yelped.

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "Don't worry, baby, I got you."

He carried you to your room with ease, tossing you onto the bed like you weighed nothing more than a rag doll. You'd never been so turned on in your damn life.

He climbed on the bed, covering you with his large form. His lips sought yours again, latching onto you like you were his lifeline. Your left hand trailed up his back, your fingers gently clutching the hairs at the back of his head.

He continued to kiss you, but your mind began to wander. You thought about seeing him in the gym earlier that morning and your body started to heat up even more. You wanted to see all of him, not just his arm muscles.

You gripped the edge of his shirt and tugged harshly, desperate to get it off him as fast as possible. He chuckled softly as he sat up, just long enough to take off his shirt.

He was back on top of you before you could register the view--and you found yourself annoyed. An idea popped into your head and you smirked against his lips. He might be a hell of a lot stronger than you, but you had the element of surprise.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again, pulling him towards you so you could lock your ankles around him. His groan quickly turned into a gasp of surprise when you flipped him onto his back. You smiled down at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked lightly.

"I wanted to see you better...so I'm in control now."

He didn't often give up control anywhere, let alone the bedroom, but you looked so pleased with yourself that he couldn't help but acquiesce.

Your eyes had drifted from his face to his exposed torso. He watched as your hands followed the curve of his muscles, eyes drinking in every inch of his skin. The way you looked at him was intoxicating--it was like a drug he didn't wanna quit.

Your eyes flicked back up to his and he saw the unbridled lust in them. It took every ounce of self-control he had to not flip you over and fuck you senseless. All he could think about was hearing you screaming his name, but he knew he had to wait. He had a feeling it would be worth it.

"Can I touch you?" he asked softly.

You nodded and he immediately grabbed your hips and tugged you onto his abdomen. He wanted you to be a little bit closer so he could touch every part of you. His hands slowly slid under the hem of your shirt and for a moment, you froze--panic rising in your chest.

Elliot saw it flicker across your face, so he stopped moving, but he didn't remove his hands. He wanted to make sure you knew he was only stopping to make sure you were comfortable, not because he found something he didn't like.

"Can I keep going?" he whispered.

You nodded cautiously, so he slowly moved his hands farther up your belly. He enjoyed the feeling of your soft curves and he had a feeling he was really going to enjoy holding onto you while he fucked you.

He reached the edge of your bra and paused, waiting for you to indicate it was okay for him to continue. You didn't tell him to stop, so he slid his hands up over your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. You released a soft sigh and he did his best to keep moving at a slow pace, despite wanting to literally rip your clothes off.

You allowed him to pull your shirt up and over your head, and it took all the energy you had not to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. When you saw the look on his face--the hunger in his eyes--you suddenly didn't feel as self-conscious as before. Your body reacted to him in the same way his reacted to you, and you felt the desperation begin to creep in.

You shifted your hips, seeking some kind of friction against his body, while your nails raked down his chest. He groaned softly, but his hands didn't leave your body. Instead, they slipped around to your back and quickly unhooked your bra.

The moment your breasts came into full view, his hands began to massage and knead them, fingers pinching and twisting your nipples gently.

You moaned and dug your nails into his sides, gripping them for stability. He looked up at you, at your dark, lust-filled eyes, and he lost control for a moment. He flipped you onto your back so fast you let out a little yelp in surprise.

That yelp quickly turned to deep moans as his mouth attached to your breasts, sending bolts of pleasure through your body. His hands fumbled with the button and zipper of your pants--he was about 3 seconds away from ripping them when he finally got the buttons undone.

"Why are women's dress pants so complicated? There are literally THREE buttons." he mumbled against your skin.

You laughed warmly, knowing he was right. "Try wearing them sometime."

He grinned up at you. "They look better on you, but..." he tugged your pants off and tossed them onto the floor. "...just as I thought, they look much better on the floor."

You chuckled at his joke and rolled your eyes. You were about to comment on the cheesiness of his statement, when he sat up and began removing his own pants. You were so focused on watching him that you forgot what you were about to say.

You eyed his bulge when it came into view and you began to pant with need. Elliot noticed and gave you a little smirk. "Want me to take these off?" he asked, gesturing to his boxers.

You nodded rapidly.

"Sorry, baby, I didn't catch that."

"Yes, please," you said aloud.

"Good girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips involuntarily--the praise going directly to your core.

His words had the desired effect on you and it only made him want you more. He tugged off his underwear and climbed back into the bed, but you stopped him with a gasp.

"Absolutely not," you said with wide eyes.

"What?" he asked in confusion. He followed your line of sight and realized you were staring directly at his dick. "Something wrong?"

"It's not gonna fit."

Elliot nearly collapsed in relief as he started to laugh. "Baby, you had me worried for a minute." He laughed again. "Don't worry, it'll fit."

You shook your head. "I might be a big girl, but my vagina isn't."

He laughed again. "You're perfect, baby, and I promise you, I'll be gentle."

You finally looked back up at him, eyes still filled with doubt. He offered you a warm smile and it helped to put you at ease. "Okay," you murmured. "I trust you."

"That's my girl." He climbed back on top of you and kissed you deeply.

When he broke off the kiss, he began to make his way down your body, lips never more than an inch away from your skin. He was dying to taste you and he was quite certain he'd waited long enough.

When he reached your core, his eyes flicked up to yours to make sure you were watching. He grabbed ahold of the edge of your panties with his teeth and tugged on them--pulling them down your body with nothing but his mouth.

You didn't know why the hell that was so hot, but good god it was. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Elliot's large body between your legs, mouth mere centimeters from where you needed him. You'd never imagined he'd look this damn good, nor did you imagine you would feel so comfortable baring yourself to him completely.

Elliot locked eyes with you as he placed soft kisses to your inner thighs and your pussy lips. He breathed in your scent as he did so, and he had to grip the bedsheets to keep from losing his control.

You were panting heavily, the anticipation nearly killing you. "Elliot, please," you whimpered, hips jerking slightly.

He smiled as he placed another kiss to your mound. "Please what, baby?"

"Do something," you begged.

"Something?"

"Anything! Please!"

Normally he would have kept asking until you used your words and told him what you really wanted, but he was having a hard time resisting his own urges right now, so he decided to have mercy on you.

He dove into you with abandon, mouth working you in ways you'd never imagined. It was like having a sex god between your legs--not that you'd ever say that to him, he'd probably find it blasphemous--but in that moment, you couldn't be bothered to care.

Your nails raked against his scalp as you struggled to find purchase somewhere on his body. Your hands finally came to rest on his biceps, nails digging into his skin as you held on for dear life.

Your body jerked beneath him, the pleasure so immense that he had to hold you down to keep you from squirming away from him. He glanced back up at your face to make sure you were enjoying it--and was met with the most beautiful sight.

Your head was thrown back against the pillows, mouth open as you moaned and panted. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly with each heavy breath you took. He wished he could see your face better, but it was more than obvious you were enjoying yourself.

He somehow learned exactly what you liked, and what you needed, without you having to say a single word. You were more than pleased because you were certain you couldn't actually speak. The only sounds coming from your mouth were moans and something that closely resembled his name.

His fingertips were digging into your hips as he held you in place--his grip so tight it was sure to leave bruises. Your legs began to shake around him and your thighs started to close in on his head, but he was more than happy to wear your legs like earmuffs.

Your moans rose in volume and length, signaling you were close. Your nails dug deeper into his biceps, pressing crescent shapes into his skin. It would have been painful in any other setting, but he was more than delighted to bear the pain.

He knew you were close to orgasm, so he sped up his movements, tongue dancing against your clit with expert precision.

You gasped his name, hips jerking against him as you came. He held on tightly as he helped you ride out your high--not stopping even as you began to whimper.

"Too sensitive, Elliot," you gasped.

He lifted his head long enough to say, "I'm not done," before diving in with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the intensity of the sensations and within seconds you could feel a second orgasm building within you.

He lifted his head again. "Unless you want me to stop?"

"No!" you practically yelled. Your hand grabbed the back of his head and pushed him back down and he chuckled warmly at your insistence.

"I didn't think so," he mumbled before licking his way back into your pussy.

Unlike your first orgasm, your second hit you suddenly and quickly--rendering you nearly speechless. You could do nothing but gasp for air as wave after wave of pleasure threatened to drown you in an ocean of passion.

Elliot finally lifted his head, a satisfied smirk resting on his handsome features. You looked down at him, breathless and wide eyed, and he felt his body heat up.

He moved with such speed that it surprised you, nearly pouncing on top of you, mouth mere inches from yours. He seemed to be studying your face and for a moment you felt embarrassed--unaccustomed to such a lustful expression on another person's face.

But the way he looked at you--the desire evident in his eyes--simultaneously put you at ease and made you want him with renewed desire.

He touched your cheek, which was flushed bright red. He could feel the heat radiating from it and he liked being the cause of such a reaction. "You look beautiful like this," he whispered.

Your cheeks turned a darker crimson and he smiled, knowing he'd caused that as well. "I like you like this," he murmured. "Laid out beneath me, pretty eyes wide, lips parted, hair a mess...I've never seen anything so sexy."

"Elliot," you whispered. You didn't know what else to say, so you let your body do the talking for you. You tugged him down to you, lips latching onto his as you kissed him hungrily.

He lowered himself to be closer to you, careful not to put his weight on top of you--he didn't want to hurt you. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You moaned softly, hips pressing upward against his pelvis. His cock brushed against your core, earning a groan from deep in his chest.

You liked the sound he made and you were desperate to hear more of them, so you did it again, this time more slowly and with more pressure. He pressed against you, his own body seeking friction of its own volition.

You slipped your dominant hand between your bodies and wrapped it around the base of his cock, squeezing gently as you stroked upward. He groaned and his hips bucked against your hand.

Even though he was on top of you, you felt like you were in control...and you were going to use it to your advantage. You slipped the head of his cock between your folds, sliding it upward against your clit. He groaned and bit down into the soft flesh of your neck and you gasped at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

You were about to do it again, but Elliot pulled just out of reach. "Baby if you keep doing that, I'm gonna lose control."

Your eyes widened innocently. "What if that's exactly what I want?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "What?" he croaked.

"What if I want you to lose control? What if I like the idea of you fucking me like a feral wild animal? I want you to fuck me so well I can't walk tomorrow. Make me scream, Elliot. Please."

The seductive tone in your voice morphed into a plea at the end--a plea Elliot could not refuse. Not when you looked so gorgeous and needy beneath him...not when you said his name like that...not when you begged him to fuck you like he'd been dreaming about for months.

He grabbed his cock and began to rub it gently against your entrance, earning soft moans of pleasure from you. He knew you would feel incredible, but he was trying to hang onto whatever sanity he had left.

"Relax for me, baby," he whispered gently. He felt the tension in your body ease a little, but he needed you to be completely relaxed or he was definitely going to hurt you.

He gently rubbed circles into your hips, trying to calm your racing heart. "I've got you, doll. I'll go real slow, okay?"

You nodded, expression still worried.

"Hey," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you softly. "You tell me to stop, I stop, okay? No matter what."

"I don't want you to stop," you whispered.

He smiled gently. "Just in case, baby." He kissed you again before assuming his previous position. "Just relax, beautiful. It'll feel so good--I know you're ready for me."

You relaxed your body as much as you could, but nothing could have properly prepared you for the stretch you were about to experience.

Elliot began to slowly enter you, eyes never leaving your face. Every time you winced or inhaled sharply, he wanted to stop, but you told him to keep going.

Once he fully bottomed out, your breathing was ragged as your body adjusted to his size. He was using every ounce of will power he'd ever had to just stay still.

"You're doing so well for me, baby," he managed to groan out. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy spasmed around him as the words "good girl" registered in your brain. You suddenly needed him to move...

The moment he felt you clench around him, something inside of him snapped and it was game over for him. Whatever self-control he'd had went out the window and he started to move, setting a fast pace from the start.

Your cries mixed with his groans as he slammed into you with force. Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he worried he was hurting you, but one look at your face shut that voice down instantly.

You looked much like you did when he'd been eating you out, only this time he had a view of your face. It was a sight to behold--one he didn't think he'd ever get over.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispered.

"Please, El--" you whimpered.

He wasn't sure what you needed and you didn't appear to be in any position to tell him, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. He shifted his body so your hips were angled up, one leg on either side of head. As he thrust into you, you cried out desperately, hands fisting the sheets beside you.

He felt as the head of his cock hit that soft spot inside you--and he knew he couldn't stop now. He kept up his pace, slamming into your g-spot with each thrust.

The sounds coming from your mouth were incredible--he wanted to hear them every single day for the rest of his life. You were shaking with pleasure, body writhing against him as he struggled to keep you in place.

He needed to feel you cum around his cock at least once before he found his own release...so all of his focus was on getting you to your next orgasm.

He started to murmur dirty things to you, noticing the way your body reacted to his words. "Your pussy feels so good, baby. So tight and warm--I could stay here all night."

You were way too far gone to respond verbally, but your body told him everything he needed to know.

"You're taking me so well--squeezing so tight."

He placed soft, sloppy kisses to your calves, hips never slowing their intense pace.

"This is my pussy, you hear me? Mine. I'm gonna make sure she feels so good, baby."

You moaned loudly--clearly liking the idea of being his.

"You like that, huh? You like knowing you're mine? Like knowing I'm marking you? No one else will ever compare, baby--gonna ruin you."

"Elliot!" you screamed as your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your pussy spasmed around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he could hardly breathe.

The feeling of your orgasm triggered his own, sending him spiraling over the edge with a deep groan and whispers of your name. He filled you with his seed, letting your legs fall to either side of his hips as he stuttered his last few thrusts.

He collapsed on top of you, whispering your name against your skin like a prayer. He kissed your jaw and your neck--the affection warming your heart as you lay beneath him, slowly coming down from your high.

After several moments, Elliot pulled out of you and rolled onto his back. You both lay on the bed, breathless, as you tried to regain control of your heart rates.

Elliot grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours as he lay beside you. He turned to look at you and he smiled, taking in your beautiful post-sex glow.

You turned your head to look at him and smiled warmly. "That was..."

"Fucking incredible."

"I was gonna say decent," you teased.

He laughed and jokingly rolled away from you.

"Come back! I was kidding!" you called after him.

He kept laughing as he looked over his shoulder at you. "Come get me then."

"I can't move," you said simply.

He rolled back towards you, body now facing you. "Oh yeah? And it was just decent?"

"Decent--best sex of my life--same thing."

He grinned wolfishly and leaned in to kiss you. "That's more like it."

You rolled your eyes and affectionately smacked his arm. "Cocky, are we?"

"I know what I'm good at," he said with a shrug.

"Smart ass," you teased.

"But you like my ass," he teased back.

"It does look nice in those jeans you sometimes wear. Makes me wanna bite it."

"Oooo, kinky."

You both laughed.

Elliot looked down and his expression immediately sobered.

"What's wrong?"

"I--I didn't--I was so caught up..."

"What?"

He looked back up at you, a look of regret on his handsome face. "I didn't even think about putting on a condom, (Y/N)...I--God, I'm so sorry."

You shrugged. "No need to worry. I trust that you're clean."

"I am," he assured you. "But what about...pregnancy?"

"Oh," you brushed him off. "We definitely don't need to worry about that. I have a tiny sperm murderer living in my uterus."

"You have a what?"

You laughed. "I have an IUD."

He started laughing too. "Oh! 'Sperm murderer'..." he mumbled as he laughed even harder.

You grinned ear to ear. "I was gonna call it a tiny copper knight defending my honor, but I figured that was too much."

"You're so weird," he teased. "Come here."

You giggled as he grabbed you and dragged you against his chest. He held you tightly as he kissed your skin softly. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

"Elliot..."

"You are," he insisted.

For the first time in a long time, you felt truly beautiful, but more importantly, you felt seen. He knew who you were and wanted you anyway. He liked you for you...and he liked your body, which was really just a bonus.

"What are you thinking about?"

"If we should get a shower...or go for round two?"

He groaned softly. "I'm an old man, doll."

You rolled over so you were on top of him. "Well that's just a pity...there's so much I wanna do to you."

His eyes seemed to burn as he looked at you. There was absolutely no way in hell he could say no to you. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"At least you'll die a happy man."

He grinned. "No man has ever been happier."

Before you could respond, he grabbed you and pulled you down to him, slamming his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your last coherent thought before Elliot sent you into orgasmic oblivion again was I guess that's a yes for round two.

[otissbluebearshirt]

Interrogation - [ Terry Bruno ] 18+

Summary: An interrogation with Terry turns out to be a whole lot better than you anticipated

Word Count: 2452

Warnings: female!reader, smut - [ unprotected sex, semi-public sex ]

Masterlist | Terry Masterlist

Your chair was uneven. You’d picked up on it the very second you first sat down upon the cold, metal seat and it wobbled beneath you. You had nearly slid right off when it did. Your heart leaping inside your chest when you thought you were about to topple right over and land atop the hard cement floor of the interrogation room.

You couldn’t count how many times you’d found yourself all but forced to sit in here. How many times you’d had to keep yourself occupied by tapping your fingers rhythmically on the tabletop in the tune of your favourite song, your mind growing inherently bored as you went through the same song and dance as every other time you’d ended up in this position.

“The quicker you tell me what I want to know,” Terry said, unfolding his arms and leaning forward, his palms splaying flat against the table top as he stood directly across from you. “The quicker you get to leave here.”

You rolled your eyes, your fingertips stilling in the middle of their tune as you finally glanced up at him, “I already told you, detective. I wasn’t there that night, I didn’t see anything.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” Terry said, pushing himself off the table and slowly rounding it towards you. You crossed your legs as he did, drawing his eyes immediately to the bareness of them as you shuffled back in your seat, swallowing thickly when he reached his hand towards you and gripped the back of your chair, leaning down into you. “So why don’t you save us both the trouble, and tell me the truth.”

“Is this you being polite?” You said mockingly, your eyes flicking back up to meet the harrowing gaze of his own. Your breath shuddered the second you did, the mere intensity in which his eyes rained down upon you causing a wave of goosebumps to erupt over every inch of your skin that could still feel the air around you. “Or is this your attempt at intimidation?”

At the obvious breathlessness to your tone, Terry chuckled and shook his head, “No, this is me being patient.”

“Is it? Well…” You cleared your throat, trying your best to cool yourself down from the igniting heat that was swirling between you like a tornado. “Consider me surprised, detective, as this doesn’t quite feel like a path along the road to patience.”

He shrugged, “I walk a thin line.”

“You don’t say,” You muttered, with so much sarcasm oozing from your tone that it caused Terry’s jaw to clench.

“I suggest you start talking… Before that line wears itself out,” Terry said, nothing but a genuine laugh leaving the back of your throat as he did. His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head as he increased his grip on the back of your chair, growing closer to you, “Something funny, darlin?”

“You,” You answered without hesitation, holding his hardening stare as you raised your hand, drawing your fingertip lightly across the curves and ridges of the badge that hung loose around his neck. “You think just because you wear this badge it gives you the right to boss me around?”

“Something like that,” Terry replied, unphased by your sudden attitude and if anything, it made him twitch between his legs.

“You cops are all the same,” You muttered, curling your fingers around the entirety of his badge and keeping his eye as you did. “You take…” Your grip tightened and you tugged him even closer to you, your lips barely an inch or two away from his. “And you take…but what do you give, huh? What do those of us who chose to help you get in return other than an empty thanks?”

“Stand up,” Terry whispered, his face still so dangerously close to your own that you could feel his husk-filled order ghost over your skin in a wave of intense, rippling heat.

It travelled right down the length of your body, fluttering through your stomach and pooling between your legs as you refused to move so much as an inch. You even dropped your head, finding yourself unable to keep looking at him should you melt into a puddle beneath him. That appeared to annoy Terry more than your words had and, like a switch had suddenly been flipped inside him, his eyes clouded over with a raging darkness. He lifted his hand from the back of the chair, threading his fingers through your hair and gripping it tightly as he directed you to look back up at him.

“I said… Stand up.” As the words left his lips, Terry gave you no chance to respond willingly and instead pulled on your hair, bringing you roughly to your feet and only adding to the raging fire that burned deep in the pit of your stomach. He then kicked away your chair, the harsh scrape of the legs against the floor making you flinch as he shifted you slightly, pushing your back up against the table and using his body to keep you there. “You want me to give you something?”

You nodded, dragging your bottom lip through your teeth as your body quivered beneath you, “I want you to give me something… Want you to give me something real bad.”

Terry’s mouth quirked upwards at the obvious, yet shameless desperation that seemed to soak your flirtatious tone. But before you could so much as react to the softness that smile seemed to carry, let alone try and mirror it, he was already kissing you so vigorously that his teeth knocked hard against your own. His tongue then slipped easily between them, taking control as it delved so deep into your mouth that you could practically taste the remnants of the coffee he’d drunk not too long before.

You hummed faintly into his mouth at the rough sensation of his beard against the softness of your skin, your hands trailing up the length of his muscular back and making their way into his hair. You gripped it tightly, the shorts strands curling easily around your fingers as you used the hold to keep him close, only deepening the raging kiss that was slowly, but surely, draining every drop of the air from within your lungs.

When you eventually struggled to breath you had to pull back, gasping for air and all but disoriented from the mere way in which your head was swimming. It may have only been a kiss, but it so easily left you in such a state of euphoria that when the tickle of Terry’s beard drifted down your chin and you felt the first brush of his hot tongue against your skin, your knees all but buckled beneath you.

As your palms splayed out flat against the table to keep you steady, Terry’s own began their exploration of your body. They made their way slowly, sensually, down the curve of your waist and around your back, the pressure in which he held increasing as he guided them over the supple shape of your ass and to the back of your thighs. He then gripped them tightly — almost possessively, drawing them forward before directing his touch upwards and relishing in the breathy gasps that left your lips as he slowly hiked up your skirt.

The higher he got, and the less the grey fabric covered you, the more you could feel the cool air wash over your hot and flushing skin. Terry could feel it too: the small bumps that rose from beneath the surface of your skin at the contrast in temperatures, and it only encouraged him to explore further. To discover just how different the heat from the outside of your thighs was compared to the heat he could already feel raging on the inside.

“What’s this?” Terry mused, the husk to his voice paired with the partial smirk that tugged at his lips sending you even further into overdrive as he slowly ghosted his fingertips further along your inner thigh. “No panties? Darlin’ if I were to guess, I’d say you came here in search of a little something.”

“Would you think less of me if I did?” You whispered, tugging at his hair to draw his face back up to yours.

You kissed him the second his nose brushed alongside yours, not even giving him a chance to answer your question as you honestly didn’t need him to — not when the hardness beneath his jeans told you everything you needed to know and more, soft whimpers leaving the back of your throat each time it would brush so perfectly over you.

“Fuck…” You gasped, keeping his forehead pressed firmly against yours as you pecked another short, albeit lopsided, kiss to his lips. “Fuck, I want you…”

The mere pleading that rolled of your tongue was all Terry needed to really get himself going, the lust burning so deep into his eyes that he was all but fucking you with them already. His hands dropped to his belt and he very quickly unfastened it, popping open the button on his jeans and dragging the zip down so fast you could barely hear it. He grabbed hold of the back of your thighs again, using the leverage to help lift you from the ground and set you gently atop the table, parting your legs as he did and nestling himself snuggly between them as he pushed down his boxers.

The split second he felt the heat of your pussy radiate over his length he began to push into you, at a pace so painstakingly slow you could feel every inch of his thick cock as it spread you as wide open as you’d ever been before. Your hands shot up to grip his shoulders tight, your fingernails digging deep into his clothes covered muscles as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, allowing him to feel the tingling sensation of your soft whimpering gasps as they cascaded over his skin with every inch that disappeared inside you.

“Fuck…” Terry groaned into your ear as he dragged himself back out of you, until nothing but the tip remained inside. “You’re so perfect, darlin’.”

An unintelligible drabble of swear words then left his lips as Terry sunk back into you, lingering for a simple moment to feel you entirely before he drew back and slowly began to thrust himself into you. And whilst it felt incredible. Whilst the mere pleasure in which it sent coursing through your veins had you clench around him already, you wanted more. You needed to still feel this in the morning and so, having forced your head to lift from his chest, you pressed a few sloppy kisses to his lips and cheek before directing yourself to his ear.

“Come on, detective…” You teased, your stomach fluttering when Terry’s grasp on your hips tightened. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Just like that Terry’s eyes glazed over and he picked up the pace, thrusting so mercilessly into the tightness of your pussy that the table beneath you began to shake in place — thank God for the bolts holding it in place otherwise you’d have both ended up through the wall. You gripped his shoulders tighter, the speed at which he was moving was unlike anything you’d ever felt before as his hips slammed against your thighs, making damn good on his word of fucking you like he meant it.

You already couldn't see straight and it hadn’t even been a minute yet. But you loved every damn second of it. The slight hint of pain only added to that intense pleasure coursing even fiercer through your veins. Your lower abdomen was on fire, tightening faster than ever with each thrust of his cock, reaching deeper inside you than it ever had before and sending you to heights you never thought you’d reach.

And when your orgasm finally hit, it was as though you’d ascended to heaven. Like you were floating from your body and for a good thirty seconds, you saw nothing but white as Terry carried you through it, prolonging it to the point where you almost had to tell him to stop before it started to hurt.

Luckily though, it only took Terry two more deep thrusts to reach his own end, stilling inside you as he moaned your name in the most delectable way you’ve ever heard. He pulled out soon after, tucking himself back into his pants before all but collapsing on top of you, as though he’d just ran a marathon then chased a suspect through Central Park.

You were both sweating. Glistening, rather, and unable to fully breathe let alone speak. But that didn’t stop him from kissing you, pushing your hair back from your face as his lips worked lightly, gently, against yours. You pushed his body back a little, keeping your lips on his as you shuffled down the table and landed on your feet — barely. Terry had to catch you as your legs nearly buckled beneath you when you tugged down your skirt, but luckily, for you both, it didn't take you too long to find your sea legs.

“God that was incredible,” You whispered against his lips, planting another firm kiss against them before tilting your head and glancing up at him, adding curiously, "Are you sure you’ve never done that in here before?”

Drawing his thumb down your plump lips, Terry smiled, “You know I haven’t.”

“Just checking,” You said innocently, casually, hearing the brief chuckle Terry couldn’t help but let out as you ducked your eyes shyly away from him.

It didn’t last long though, it never did. Eventually you tilted your head back up to look at him and lifted yourself up onto your tiptoes, pressing your lips softly, yet firmly, against his own. He kissed you back happily, relishing in the simple hum that left the back of your throat before you pulled away from him entirely. You fixed your skirt a little better now that you could, making your way towards the door as Terry returned the seat you once sat on to its rightful position.

“Terry,” You called back over your shoulder, a sweet smile tugging at your lips as he glanced affectionately up at you. “Promise me you won’t stay too late tonight… I hate sleeping when you’re not there.”

Terry’s face softened, “I know, darlin’ and I promise I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”

“Good,” You nodded in satisfaction, about to turn and walk out the door before you stopped, “Oh and detective… I love you.”

Terry smiled, “And I love you too… counsellor.”

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[oliviasgreenmug]

same face, different decade