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thatesqcrush · 15 days

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Beautiful Sinner (Priest! Barba AU), Prologue & Ch. 1

Priest! Barba x f! reader | SVU au

Rating: NSFW for language, graphic smut, basic desecration of religious upbringing.

WC: 8.6K

AN: I am so going to hell. One way ticket for lil old me.

AN2: Big thanks to @beccabarba for reviewing and being my soundboard.

Prologue:

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been, It's been too long since my last confession.”

“Go ahead,” the voice behind the screen began. “Tell me your sins.”

You shivered at the tambor of the words spoken. And you know that your sins were also their sins.

“I'm not seeking penance for what I've done, Father. I'm asking forgiveness for what I'm about to do,” you clarified. Your voice was soft.

“That’s not how this works,” the familiar voice replied. “What exactly are you going to do?”

You let out a shaky breath and heat flushed your cheeks. You began to unbutton your blouse. “I think you already know, Father.”

— Ch. 1—

*six months earlier*

It was a blistering summer day in Manhattan, the sun beating down relentlessly, casting sharp shadows on towering skyscrapers. The pavement radiated intense heat, mirages shimmering above the asphalt street. The air was thick with a suffocating blend of exhaust fumes, unpicked garbage bags and urban heat. City dwellers sought refuge in shaded pockets, and the city seemed to pulsate with the collective desire for relief from the oppressive heat.

It also happened to be your first weekend in your new home-a nine-story walk up in Hudson Heights.

You received your pink slip and had to make the hard decision to move. Your aunt was subletting her apartment while she traveled across the Borneo rainforests. Transitioning to a more modest apartment was a challenging shift. You had to adapt to a different community vibe and recalibrate your lifestyle expectations. You had introverted tendencies but you tried to remain resilient, focusing on navigating this life change as a time to reset.

You opened the window and stuck your head out. Spanish music played outside loudly and the normally traffic filled street was closed, with people milling about. It was the annual block party for the neighborhood, with vendors and entertainment alike. The food smelled wonderful and your stomach growled in response. The sound of a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. You ducked your head, making sure to avoid giving yourself a concussion. “Coming!” You called out as your bare feet padded the floor. You knew who it was - Maria, your next door neighbor who you met on move-in day. Maria was friendly with your aunt and you knew that she had promised your aunt that she’d keep an eye on you. She was close in age to you and immediately offered you a helping hand, helping you bring up boxes. You thanked her with pizza and beer and the two of you were on your way to becoming fast friends.

When Maria had texted you earlier in the week,” ‘Block party! Want to come with?’ it was an easy yes.

You opened the door and let Maria in. “Just need shoes and my bag. Help yourself if you want anything,” you called out, heading back towards your bedroom.

You heard your fridge open, the cacophonous sounds of beverages clanking together followed by the click and hiss of a can opening. Soon enough, you were both on your way.

–

Time flew and you found yourself really enjoying yourself. Eventually Maria had to leave - she was meeting her boyfriend and his sister to head into Queens to catch the Mets game.

You were still beyond hot, the humidity was thick, almost choking you. You pulled out a claw clip from your bag and pinned your hair up. Just even having the damp strands off the nape of your neck provided some, albeit, minimal relief. In that moment, you missed your pixie cut from years prior.

The local fire department had opened the fire hydrant and there was a gaggle of kids playing in the water. You looked at the water longingly before you internally said ‘fuck it,’ and ran through the open fire hydrant. The force of the water was stronger - and colder - than you had anticipated and you let out a shriek. You ran through it once more - this time not as close to the hydrant - enjoying the water washing over your overheated skin. Sufficiently cooled off, you continued on your way through the neighborhood.

There was a generalized area with a tent set up for community outreach. Curiosity piqued, you moseyed on over. You picked up a pamphlet - St. Blaise Church. You were religious as a child, it was as how your parents raised you. As an adult, you found yourself straying away, not agreeing with the church’s ideals which contradicted your more liberal beliefs. Sometimes, though, you found yourself missing it - especially during Christmas and Easter, when the congregation would meet up together in mass throngs. There was something about community that made you wistful.

“Interested in the Church?” a voice questioned. You looked up and you locked eyes with a handsome man. That was an understatement. He was obscenely good looking. Almost as if it hurt to look at him straight on. You felt a jolt straight to your core. No one should look as good as he did.

He took your breath away with his green eyes and thick, fitted build. His hair was dark with flecks of gray at the temples. His salt and pepper beard neatly framed his jawline. The man gave you a smile, his eyes crinkling. Crow's feet gracefully fanned out from the corners of his eyes, evidence of a life rich in laughter and stories. Dressed in comfortable yet stylish summer attire, he exuded a casual sophistication. He wore a fitted polo with fitted shorts that were borderline criminal. The polo was slightly unbuttoned, which allowed for a hint of chest hair along sun-kissed skin to peek through. Immediately your brain went to the gutter.

“Miss?”

You blinked. It was as if your brain broke and you had no idea as to how to respond. He raised a brow and inwardly you melted, feeling warmth bloom through you.

“Uh, sorry. The heat is just getting to me,” Nervous laughter accompanied your lame excuse.

“No worries, it happens to the best of us. I’m Rafael Barba.” He offered his hand and you took it. As you shook his hand, warmth bloomed through you.

He offered you a beer from a cooler and you happily accepted. And over beer, you find yourself enamored with every word from his lips. You suspected Rafael was involved with the church with how passionately he spoke about it. And when he invited you to attend the Adult Fellowship group after Sunday’s mass, you found yourself agreeing.

“...the fellowship hour following the Liturgy provides opportunities to develop friendships, meet parishioners or simply exchange information of mutual interest. There are monthly birthday celebrations and seasonal events, such as Christmas and Easter parties, as well as a spring picnic. We are always looking for more—”

Rafael’s cell rang and he apologized before excusing himself. You nodded and rocked on your heels, once again taking in the scene before you as you finished your beer.

This new neighborhood was already looking up.

—

As Rafael took the call, he couldn’t help but turn around to look at you once more. His eyes raked over your form, fully drinking you in. He swallowed hard, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He could feel a slight stirring in his pants, and furiously shook his head.

‘No,’ his brain argued. ‘No.’

He was not being turned on right now. Rafael tried to push the thought away and turned his attention back to the phone.

After the Householder case and resigning from the D.A.’s office, Rafael decided he needed to get away from it all. He spent the next three months holed up in his apartment, avoiding anyone and everyone.

Even if he didn’t want to - there was no one who would understand what he did. His mother was horrified and stopped talking to him. He received more than one gloating, sneering call from the recidivist he should have blocked — Alex Muños. Even Yelina spurned him.

He was truly alone.

So what was an acquitted, former ADA to do?

He prayed.

He had lapsed from religion. After working in the DA’s office and seeing all the especially heinous, depraved, evil out there - he was convinced there was no God.

He couldn’t explain why he did what he did - he did what he had to. Something called him to do it.

Was it God? Was it the Devil?

He wasn’t sure. So he prayed some more.

And then one night it came to him. The calling from God.

After a lengthy period of hemming and hawing, weighing the pros and cons, he contacted the local diocesan vocational director and began the requisite training. That training looked like pre-theology for 2 years followed by a tenure at a major seminary where he studied languages—some of which he already knew -Latin, Spanish, Greek. He also took graduate level studies in theology, including Doctrine, Canon Law, Church History, Scripture, and Liturgy.

He called St. Blaise’s home for three years. He found joy in community and spreading the Gospel. He gave to the community as much as he could possibly give. He thought it would be weird - that people would recognize him and call him a baby killer. And if they did - they never did it to his face. Rather, the community embraced him.

He was still busy as ever - mass was everyday, there were funerals, baptisms and weddings. He did outreach with the youth and began a fellowship for parishioners who were in a similar age cohort. Having saved quite a penny as an ADA, he lived off his savings. A priest’s salary was meager and he still had to pay taxes. So his salary sat in another account which went towards that.

The summer block party was an annual event, but very nubile - only in its third year. It’s where he felt he could give most back and the community could truly come together.

He hadn’t felt an attraction to any form of secular life in ages.

Until you just now.

He could use the excuse that he was a man after all. A man who used to be sexually active with both men and women alike. But before you, he was able to steer his thoughts away and put that energy into something else for the betterment of the church and community.

And then you came along, soaking yourself as you sprinted through a pump before going back for more.

His eyes traveled over you again. You were soaked, the material of your clothing sticking to you. Your tank top - now sheer - showing off your nipples which were diamond hard due to the combination of the cold water and air.

‘Fucking hell, get a grip.’

But he turned around to get yet another look, while yes’ing the person on the phone. His eyes trailed over the shorts you wore, perfectly molded to your ass and thighs. The rest of your legs were equally toned and for a split second, he could imagine them wrapped around his hips.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake.’

He wanted to talk to you more but this phone call ate up his time. Finally after what seemed like forever, he was free again. He decided at that moment, he needed to clear his head, so he sat back down and willed his cock to deflate. He closed his eyes and was about to cover his face with a hat when you interrupted him again.

“So what’s a lapsed Catholic to do if she wants to rejoin the church?”

Rafael lifted the hat off his face and sat fully. He cocked a brow. “Well, you can start by coming to mass tomorrow.”

“I suppose,” you sighed. “It’s been awhile.”

“How long is a while?” Rafael inquired gently. He gave you a kind smile. You looked away, embarrassed. Heat flooded your cheeks.

“Years,” you supplied.

Rafael nodded and then cocked his head. “Are you familiar with the parable about Jesus and the lost sheep?”

You nodded. “I’m the one that Jesus is looking for?”

Rafael nodded. “Maybe. But what about coming to mass first and checking it out before making any commitments?”

You nodded again. “I’ll think about it.”

“Hey stranger! Long time no see!” a familiar voice called out, interrupting the conversation.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Maria, now accompanied by her boyfriend.

“I thought you were going to the city,” you asked, chucking your beer in the garbage can next to you.

“Changed our minds. Plus Robbie’s sister is being a little bitch.”

That earned a ‘hey!’ from Robbie before he acquiesced. “Yeah, she is being a little bitch.”

You turned back around but Rafael was nowhere to be seen. You looked at the pamphlet once more before folding it and tucking it away for later.

“I cannot believe you spoke to Fr. Barba like that,” Maria continued.

“Wait - what? He’s a priest?”

Maria nodded. She then pointed to your still soaked appearance. “You can see your tits through your tanktop. Wrong day to not wear a bra. You look like you could win a wet-tshirt contest.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment as you looked down and realized Maria was in fact correct.

“Probably thanked God - that celibate life must be rough,” Robbie laughed. “He’s been a priest for how long? I can’t imagine not having sex.”

You weren’t listening though, too consumed in your embarrassment and attraction. Of course the hottest man on the planet is a fucking priest. ‘And of course I would basically flash him.’

Later that evening at home, you poured some kibble in a bowl for your cat and heated up a quick meal. As you waited for your food to finish, you rifled through your closet for something to wear to church. Your eyes landed on a sundress that you knew was probably much too short for church. You frowned and kept looking until you found the perfect outfit.

You told Maria that you were going to attend mass. You had already promised the hot priest you’d come to the fellowship group. If you didn’t show, then you would be a liar, and you couldn’t lie to a priest - right?

—

The following morning you found yourself at church with Maria.

“I want to sit up in the front,” you whined as the both of you shuffled into the pew.

“I’m too hungover to sit in the front,” Maria grumbled. “You think I can get away with leaving my sunglasses on?”

You rolled your eyes. “This is probably the one mass you can get away with that shit,” you replied before slapping your mouth with your palm. “I didn’t mean to curse, shit, oh no, God damnit!”

Maria laughed at your foul mouthed word salad. “You can confess to Fr. Barba after.”

The organ began to play and you stood. You motioned to Maria to stand and she ignored you, instead choosing to rest her head on the back of the bench of the pew in front of her. You watched as the altar servers carried in the items needed for mass - Cross, the processional candles, incense and Bible. Your eyes followed as Fr. Barba walked behind. He wore green vestments and you vaguely recalled that the color of the robes indicated where you were along in the church calendar.

Mass went as typically as you remembered. You sang from the hymnal, prayed along the congregation, and actually listened to the homily instead of daydreaming about being anywhere else. Fr. Barba was straightforward, discussing Jesus’ anger.

“Paul commands us in Ephesians 4:26, be angry and do not sin; don’t let the sun set on your anger. I’ve heard a lot of sermons on the “but do not sin” part: anger can give opportunity to the devil and birth all manner of hell in relationships. I’ve also heard a lot of sermons on the “do not let the sun go down on your anger.” But I haven’t heard any sermons on these two words: be angry.”

Fr. Barba paused before continuing. “Be angry. As we look upon a world of injustice and abuse, even in the church, we can learn how to be angry in love together. And we learn this the way Paul did: from Jesus. Jesus got angry. Regularly. And we see a pattern in his anger: whenever someone vulnerable or powerless suffered injustice at the hands of the strong and powerful, Jesus opposed this injustice with loving anger.”

The Liturgy of Word concluded and then transitioned into the Liturgy of the Eucharist. You watched intently as he performed prayers and rites in Latin that had existed for thousands of years.

It was time for Communion but you didn’t feel up to receiving. So instead, you just watched. As you scanned the church, your eyes locked with Rafael’s. He was watching you, a frown on his face. You felt your cheeks grow hot once more and you turned away out of embarrassment.

Mass concluded shortly after. The fellowship hour was immediately afterwards, held in the basement of the church. Maria had zero interest in attending so you parted ways before heading down. The smell of incense and something very “churchly” permeated in the air as you walked down the dimly lit stairs.

The basement was as expected, acoustic tile ceiling, fluorescent lights, that unique slight churchy smell, boxes of various items, beige metal folding chairs, long tables, pillars in the middle of the room holding up the sanctuary one floor up. There was a life-size nativity in the back, with a Joseph whose hand was broken and an unfortunate beheaded sheep statue. Someone was setting up a coffee maker and someone else was plating store-bought cupcakes.

You chit-chatted with some congregants, majority of whom you met at the block party.

As you made a cup of coffee, you were unaware of Fr. Barba entering the room. It was only when you heard his voice and the sound of people shuffling to sit. You turned, sipping your coffee as you did so. No, Fr. Barba was no longer in those ceremonial robes that hid away everything. Instead, he wore fitted dark denim with a black shirt and his collar.

Your eyes tracked him as you continued to speak with others. You made sure to glance back to the folks you were speaking with - implying you were listening when you really weren’t. You watched as he moved easily through the room, greeting people, making jokes. What a waste of good looks.

People began to slowly sit, the chatting quietly winding down. Eventually, you took a seat. Everyone sat in a circle and you felt as if you were in an AA meeting.

“Welcome,” Fr. Barba began. “Thank you all for taking the time to come today.” He turned his gaze to you and stretched his arm in your direction. “We have a newcomer.” He gave you a small smile, his eyes crinkling in the corner.

You gave a small smile and waved, before introducing yourself.

There was a more in depth discussion of the readings from the mass. You hung onto every word Rafael said. Fr. Barba, Fr. Barba, Fr. Barba you chanted in your mind as if you were trying to ensure that stayed in your mind.

He’s a priest you told yourself. He’s Father - not Daddy.

—

You became a regular at church and also at the afternoon fellowship. You were usually quiet, opting to listen more so than anything. Today was different.

Fr. Barba asked the group to share their most favorite parts of scripture; he had anticipated the majority of responses - Genesis, one of the Gospels, Proverbs. Your comment made his stomach flip.

“I personally enjoy Song of Songs,” you offered. “It celebrates sexual love.”

“Jewish tradition reads it as an allegory of the relationship between God and Israel,” Fr. Barba offered.

“In Christianity, it is read as an allegory of Christand his bride, the Church,” you countered.

“I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me,” Fr. Barba responded.

You flushed. “His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. It is an unabashedly sensuous, even at times quite erotic, paean to love,” you continued as you leafed through the Bible you held.

“No matter what interpretation you choose to believe, the book is a powerful and profound reminder of the beauty and depth of God’s love for us. It is a beautiful book that has been celebrated for centuries and one that can still bring joy and comfort to believers today.”

There was a pause and then Rafael clapped his hands. “I think that’s enough to stop for now. Thank you all for coming. I’ll see you all next week.”

You hung back, helping to clean up. Slowly the group dissipated, leaving you and Fr. Barba alone.

“You’re still here.” Fr. Barba’s voice was thick and dark. You shivered in response.

“I really enjoyed myself today,” you replied softly as you approached him. You closed the gap between you and him. You could press your hands to his chest if you wanted to.

Oh how you wanted to.

Your nipples strained against the confines of your top. You wanted to drop to your knees and show your worth - take another type of communion.

‘Behave,’ you told yourself.

“Did you now?”

His expressive, bright green eyes are now dark and stormy. His jaw is tight. You swallow hard.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I won’t have it,” he continues. His voice is clipped and you shivered in response.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not playing at anything Father. I’ll see you next week.”

Rafael didn’t reply. He watched as you turned about and walked away with a deliberate sway of your hips. His eyes were focused on your ass. All he wanted to do in that moment was to haul you over a pew and spank your ass for your insolence. His cock ached and twitched in his pants.

You turned back towards him, a full smile gracing your face. “I’m really looking forward to being a member of this congregation.”

Once you were gone, Rafael sat down on a folded chair dismayed.

He was so screwed.

God almighty help him.

—

It was a delicate dance. There was a part of you that enjoyed toeing the line with Fr. Barba. And part of you felt a smidge guilty. But fuck, he was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

As Fr. Barba. Well, you weren’t alone in the desperate want and lust you were feeling.

He played with you in his fantasies. He knew what he was getting into when he became a priest. He swore to God to not know another’s body. It was the least he could do considering he killed baby Drew.

He wasn’t supposed to have these kind of thoughts.

It had been so long and he was under your spell.

After the group meeting, he had to hustle back to his home - a small home attached to the rectory. He made quick work of removing his clothes. He hissed as grasped his aching cock. Stroke, stroke, stroke.

Self pleasure was also a no-no.

Masturbation involved lust. It’s to use another person for your own selfish pleasure. The person becomes an object and it denigrates their dignity as a human being.

When he was around you, he wanted to throw everything into the wind. The image of your soaked tits haunted him. He threw his head back as he continued to jerk himself. Desire. You made him fucking feral.

He imagined kissing you after the meeting the second you and him were alone.

His lips crushed against yours. He pressed your back against the wall, his knee parting your legs.

One hand tangled in your hair, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot of your skin.

It was as if you released a part of him that he had kept tucked away for so long.

He stripped away your top, before mouthing your tits before dropping to his knees. Your hand moved through his hair.

“Taste me,” you’d beg. You’d beg so nicely and who was he to deny his lamb?

He imagined grabbing your ass, pulling your dripping pussy to his mouth. You would drape a leg over his shoulder, grounding yourself hard against his mouth.

“Fuck, right there. Just like that.”

He would put his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushed his tongue inside, tasting, licking, and sucking.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” you’d moan. “Don’t stop. Oh God, I am going to come. Please, fuck me.”

He would undo his belt and drop his pants, grasping his cock in his hand. He’d rub the head of his cock along your folds, teasing you until neither one of you could stand it before burying himself deep inside of you.

“I want everything you’ve got. I want to feel it all.”

“Is that what my little lamb wants? To be fucked hard like a whore?”

“Yes,” you’d beg. “Please.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Come for me little lamb,” he’d encourage. You’d fall apart at his words. He could imagine how your wet, soft, pussy would suck his cock in, deeper and deeper. He would imagine thrusting deep and hard, his cock dragging against your sweet spot. He’d come hard, deep inside of you, his come painting your walls.

In reality he grunted and groaned as his cock kicked. He came all over his hand and belly. He panted, waiting for his breath to even out.

‘Shit.’

—

It was a gloomy Tuesday morning as Rafael worked in his office. Homilies were a lot like closing arguments. Instead of trying to sway the jury, he had to connect with his congregants. Instead of evidence, it was the gospel.

He was distracted. His mind kept wandering to you. Were you some kind of a test for him?

You were under his skin. An itch that couldn’t be scratched. Or stroked. You had consumed his thoughts.

He tore the yellow sheet off the pad before crumpling it.

Rafael tried very hard to live a holy life, especially as he had known what life was like, could be like, outside of the church.

And until now, through God’s grace, he had done very well.

He looked at the time. Confession was to start soon. Confession wasn’t popular. Usually before the bigger high holidays, people would come in droves. But a regular, run of the mill Tuesday? Not a chance.

He had his regulars though, who would come without fail. They were long standing members of the community. Being bilingual was a big boost for the church.

Rafael put on his collar, and changed into dark slacks from jeans and then headed out.

—-

You peeked into the booth. Seeing that it was empty, you made your way in and sat down.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It’s been… um, years since my last confession.”

Rafael was stunned. It was you.

‘Focus.’

You began with some menial, ordinary sins. Rafael focused on what you were saying, ignoring the throb of his cock.

“And, of course, this… all leads to the most wicked one.”

Rafael swallowed hard. “Go on.”

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Me?” Rafael questioned. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ “What do you mean?”

“You’re so kind and thoughtful. I probably shouldn’t say this because it’s so inappropriate, but you’re so fucking handsome. And it’s resulted in some wicked behavior.”

“Wicked how?” His hands ball into fists before he grabs the tops of his thighs hard, trying to steel his thoughts.

“I— I’m sorry. I need to go.” You’re stammering over your words, your heart racing.

Rafael heard the panic in your voice and he frowned. The confessional creaked as you stood. Rafael was filled with an overwhelming need to get you to stay. “We all sin. Including myself. God made us imperfect and can he really get to be disappointed in us when we do imperfect things?”

“I— I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone else. And I am filled with despair about wanting what I can’t have,” you reply softly. “What can I do about this? Can I say 10 Hail Mary’s or something?”

You continue. “And can I be absolved if I don’t feel bad about what I’ve done or said in the past? They’re all things I wanted to do.”

Rafael wracked his mind on what to say.

And before he could, he heard you open the door and leave. He stood quickly and pushed open the curtain. But it was too late. You were already gone.

—

Sunday mass came like clockwork.

As Rafael led mass, he scanned the pews for you. He was disappointed when he didn’t see you. He saw your friend and he made a mental note to talk with her afterwards.

“Fr. Barba, great service,” Maria commented as she shook Fr. Barba’s hand.

“Thank you. I- I am glad you came. You had been coming with your friend—“

“Oh! You mean — yeah, she couldn’t come today. She had some stuff to take care of. She’s new to the area and I know she could really use the community support,” Maria replied. She looked past Rafael and smiled brightly. “Oh there she is!”

Maria called your name. Rafael turned around and he saw you across the street. You were dressed more conservatively and he felt a wave of disappointment.

You half jogged across the street and before Rafael knew it, you had materialized in front of him.

“Hi,” you greeted as you tucked your hair behind your ear. “Sorry to have missed mass.”

“It’s okay,” Rafael laughed. “It’s not like God is keeping tabs.”

You smiled. Maria turned to you. “Was just telling Fr. Barba how you could use some community.”

“Uh,” you blanched. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, help is always needed at the community center or food pantry,” Rafael offered. “Meet plenty of people that way.”

“Yeah, sure. I - I saw in the bulletin you were looking for someone to go over your books.”

Rafael shifted. “Um, I was looking more for a CPA—“

“Well you are in luck!” Maria hit your arm. “You’ve got your own CPA here.”

“I-I am not a CPA. I was treasurer of my sorority years ago,” you explained. “But I lost my job and I need money,” you shrugged. “That’s all.”

Rafael sighed and rubbed his neck. As much as Olivia was a bleeding heart, he was too, especially with his roots. “Um, stop by the rectory sometime next week and we can talk it through.”

You smiled brightly. “Oh that would be great! Really! Thank you.”

Rafael nodded. You turned to Maria. “We have to go. Reservations?”

Other congregants had started to line up to speak with Rafael. He turned towards the line, but not without glancing back, watching you walk away.

Rafael admired you from behind, appreciating how your jeans hugged you in all of the right places. A flash of heat coursed through him.

‘God damnit, what are you doing?’

—

You never came by. Or to mass. Rafael thought you might have had a change of heart. Perhaps your flirtation with religion had flamed out. He found himself longing to see you but also increasingly frustrated with himself. He busied himself as much as possible so that he couldn’t even think of you. You were the absolute last thing on his mind.

When you rapped on his door two and a half weeks later, Rafael was more than surprised. He was downright startled, like a horse with thunder. He had been knee deep in the church’s financial books.

“I’m sorry, I hope I am not intruding. I know it’s late.”

Rafael relaxed. “No, not at all. Please, come in, sit.”

You slunk in the chair with ease and eyed Rafael’s outfit. “You don’t look like a priest.”

Rafael arched a thick brow. “And what do I look like?”

“Like a regular guy. Someone I would meet at a bar,” you shrugged as you waved your arm as if to make a point. Rafael was wearing dark jeans with a button down, sleeves rolled up and brown brogues.

Rafael laughed. “Well, there was a point in my life where you would have found me there. Speaking of bars, would you care for a drink?”

“I thought priests could only drink church wine.”

Rafael laughed again. “No, no, we can drink more than church wine.” You heard the clatter of glass and the sound of liquid pouring. “Here,” Rafael turned to you, his arm outstretched, holding a lowball glass with amber liquid. “Macallan 18.”

You took it from him and swirled the liquid before sniffing. You closed your eyes as you took a sip. You hummed, pleased. “This is good. Dangerously good.” You took another sip. “Oh this goes down way too easy.”

‘I bet my cock will go down easy.’

Rafael coughed and shook his head. “Uh, yeah, it does.” He took a large swallow of his glass and then poured himself another glass.

“You’re wondering why I’m here now. Instead of two weeks ago.”

Rafael perched himself on the corner of his desk. “I am.”

“I wish I had a reason that made sense, but I don’t. The truth is…” you glanced around the office and it became very apparent that the room was decorated more like a legal office than what you assumed an office in a church would be like.

“The truth is?” Rafael prodded.

You stood and started walking around the room. Your hand trailed the spines of the stacks of books lined up. It was then when you spotted the law degree in the corner.

“Wait - you are a lawyer? And a priest? How does that work?”

“Was,” Rafael clarified, before taking a long sip of his drink. “Was a lawyer.”

“You don’t practice anymore?”

“No,” Rafael shook his head. “Not anymore.”

You walked up to the bar cart and poured yourself another drink. You took the chair and pulled it until you were sitting directly in front of Rafael. “Tell me.”

Hours passed. Rafael unloaded everything on you - his time at SVU, baby Drew, the why to choose a life of faith.

And that bottle of Macallan?

You stood very close to Rafael. Your hands pressed on his chest. You swayed slightly and Rafael placed his hands on your hips, steadying you.

“Hire me. I’m really good with numbers.”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “We aren’t going to have sex.”

You scoffed, before almost losing your footing. Rafael’s hands gripped your hips tightly. “Who said anything about us having sex?”

“Do you think I don’t realize what game you’re playing?”

“Game? I’m not playing a game. I need a job.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

You rolled your eyes. “I am not. Besides, do you even know how?”

Rafael pushed you away slightly. “Did you not just hear the story of my life?”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Father.”

“The how?”

You walked back and closed the gap between you and him. “Yeah. The how. To fuck.”

Rafael’s eyes darken. He cupped your face and you leaned into his palm. He slowly walked around and behind you. He dropped his mouth to your ear. “I know how to fuck. I’ve fucked plenty. Men. Women. I know how to make someone come.”

A rumble emanated from Rafael’s chest. You spun on your heels and looked up at him. Rafael loomed over you, your eyes growing wide. Your breath hitched. “Is that so?”

Your faces were inches apart. You were breathing each other's air, growing dizzy over the shared breath. Your heart was thumping and you were so needy in that moment you thought you were going to burst.

“Little lamb, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You let out a whine. “Please.”

Rafael lifted your chin with his finger. Your eyes searched his before settling on his lips. His beautiful pink lips that you knew they knew how to kiss. And lick. And fuck. And make someone come.

“You’re a good priest Father Barba,” you whispered. “But you’re also a good man. And doesn’t a good man deserve a little indulgence every now and then?”

The tension in the room was thick, the air electric. You almost felt moved to tears in the desperate way you wanted him. And he wanted you.

The sound of sirens blaring broke the spell. You both jumped apart. You both stared at each other. Rafael couldn’t help but notice that you were flushed, and that flush was making its way down. You worried your bottom lip.

“It’s late,” you rushed. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.”

You spun on your heels and was about to dash out the door when Rafael gripped your wrist, pausing you in the middle of the door.

You looked back up at him with wide eyes.

“You start Monday,” Rafael gruffed. You nodded, unable to say anything.

You managed to squeak out an ‘okay.’ And before you realized it, the door was shut in your face.

—

Your first week was completely uneventful. As is the next. And the week after. You’re the epitome of well behaved and professional much to Rafael’s relief.

That still didn’t mean he didn’t imagine kissing you and then some. Or how when you leaned over his desk, he didn’t imagine lifting up your skirt and plowing into you. Or that when you chewed on your pen cap, he didn’t imagine his cock between your plump, soft lips.

Under the collar, he still was very much a man.

And you didn’t let him forget it. He lost track of the amount of times he had to get himself off. And still it didn’t nothing to quell the ache for you.

You threw yourself into the work and you actually found it quite fulfilling. You made plenty of friends and found yourself volunteering in other parts of the church - like working at the food pantry or singing as part of the church choir.

Summer ebbed into Fall. The air grew cooler. The days started to grow shorter and the leaves, once a vibrant green, were now tinged with yellow and orange, painting the city in a fiery palette.

You were working in the rectory that morning. When Myra, the arthritic receptionist, ended up in the hospital with pneumonia, you eagerly took over the job. You were busy enough with church duties as it was but it made sense for you to take over.

Utilizing your skills from past work experience, you ended up bringing St. Blaise into the 21st century thanks to Intuit and Microsoft.

Since you started, the more Rafael was able to get to know you. In turn, the more he wanted you. He did everything in his power to not even look at you for too long, at least when you were not not looking. It was hard - but Rafael was a glutton for punishment. Being around you made Rafael addicted.

It did seem as if you heeded his words - you were the utmost professional. You did such a good job that Rafael wondered if maybe he had misread the signals altogether and that one night was just the booze.

Then one particular evening, Rafael saw you walking with Maria, her boyfriend, and another gentleman. He didn’t want to stop and say hi - if anything he wanted to avoid it altogether and cross the street but you and him made eye contact. It would have been too awkward to avoid you by that point. It ended with the five of you at the local watering hole - where this gentleman who had his arm wrapped around you. Rafael didn’t enjoy how jealousy washed over him - he knew he did not have any right to you, or your body. And he would never be - you were never together like that.

You were waiting at the bar, ordering another round when Rafael joined you. You looked over at him and gave a small smile.

“So you’re on date then?”

You looked at him incredulously. “Rafael—“

“You live here, you can go on any dates and with whom.”

“He’s just— you and I— we never…

The bartender arrived with your drinks. You went to pay, but Rafael stopped you. “I got it.”

“Don’t you have to take a vow of poverty?” you asked as you grabbed some of the drinks. Rafael grabbed the remainder and the two of you walked back to the booth.

“One of the most common misconceptions about the Catholic priesthood is that all priests take a vow of poverty. In fact, most do not. Diocesan priests do not even make vows, they make “promises” of obedience to their bishop: chastity and to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Vows, on the other hand, are typically made by members of religious orders, such as Franciscans, Benedictines, Dominicans, etc.”

You nodded. “Got it.”

You walked ahead of Rafael, a sway in your hips as you did so. Rafael’s eyes narrowed and he sucked in a breath as he followed, exhaling slowly.

When your date - Eric - as he later learned - began mouthing off about theology and religion, Rafael rolled his eyes. Still, he wasn’t going to let himself get bested and using the skills he acquired from all the cross examinations he had ever done, basically annihilated the other guy. You snickered behind the glass of your drink but Rafael saw it and felt his chest puff.

At one point - Eric whispered something in your ear. Whatever he said was enough to make you blush and shift in your seat, smiling to yourself like you had a secret. Rafael didn’t miss it at all and he felt himself stiffen and his jaw tighten. Your eyes met once more, and you witnessed the visceral reaction he was having, saw that little flex of his jaw and the way his eyes glittered with something primal and possessive. You could see that part of him would gladly punch Eric, and even as Rafael’s eyes locked with yours, he didn't hide it. Briefly, the kind and generous priest was all gone. Even the smart and sassy lawyer was superseded: you saw the man, capable of lust and jealousy. Over you. The thought of inspiring those feelings in him made heat pool in your body, and you squeezed your thighs together. His eyes registered your expression: you were certain he knew how you felt.

By end of the night, you went to hug him good night but Rafael dodged you. You frowned and bid him adieu as he dipped his head in acknowledgement. Rafael continued to head home - and had he turned around, he would have seen you still standing, watching him.

Another week went by.

The pounding on the door stirred Rafael awake. He looked over at the clock - it was a little after midnight. A breeze blew through, causing a chill to run through his body.

He tugged a t-shirt on and groused that he was on his way.

Rafael was not expecting to see you.

“Father,” you greeted. There was a very large bottle of Macallan in your hand. Your eyes trailed over the very sleepy priest in front of you. His hair was askew and he looked adorable. You swallowed at his tight white shirt and low slung gray sweats.

“What is going on?” Rafael asked. He reached in his pocket for his glasses.

“Fancy a chat about my existential crisis?” You thrusted the bottle of scotch into his arms and walked in, pushing slightly past him.

Rafael got a whiff of your shampoo and it sent all blood straight immediately to his cock. He looks back outside and satisfied not seeing anyone else, closes the door behind him. “Existential crisis?”

“Do you have any glasses?” You ask, ignoring his question, as you look around. You hadn’t ever been inside a priest’s dwelling and you were surprised at how normal it appeared.

“Wow.” You stopped misstep and looked around. “This is not what I expected.”

Rafael rubbed his neck. “Huh? Oh, what did you expect it to look like?”

“I don’t know. More holy? Crosses everywhere. Stacks of bibles? Not something out of an architectural digest - with a kitchen island!”

Rafael laughed. He took the bottle from your hand and walked over to the island where he placed the glasses. “A lot of this is from…” he waved his arm around. “Before.”

“Pre-priest Rafael.” You clarified as you walked over to where he was and took an amber filled glass.

“Yeah,” Rafael replied before taking a long drag of his drink.

You nodded and hummed before taking another sip. “When you were just a man. Who had sex. A lot.”

“I’m still a man.”

“Come on, you know it’s not the same.”

You knew better. You knew you shouldn’t.

What would your friends say, what would they do if they ever find out? What about the congregation and surrounding community?

This was bigger than you, bigger than him. What were you thinking?

But it’s Rafael. Fr. Rafael Barba. Not that it matters - he’s not actually yours. He belongs to God.

But now when he’s staring down at you the way he is right now, teeth catching his full bottom lip, sleep-tousled hair and stormy, smoldering eyes, you can’t help but fall from grace.

“Kiss me.”

“You know we can’t.”

“So? Kiss me anyway.”

“I’m a priest.”

“Kiss me anyway.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Rafael swallowed the remainder of his drink and let out a huff. He pointed a finger toward you. “You…you’re trouble.”

You closed the gap between you and him. The room felt electric. You pressed your hands onto his chest. “So? Kiss me anyway.”

Rafael sucked in a breath. You press yourself even closer, your hips automatically seeking his. Rafael pushed you away gently. “I told you we can’t. I told you I can’t.”

“Why are you denying what’s between us?” Your hands shook as you poured yourself another glass. You turned and leaned against the island. “God made us to be sexual creatures. It’s his design. It’s his idea, his gift to us.”

Rafael sighed in irritation. “Our sexual desires are no surprise to God. He made us, and He gave us a strong sexual desire to enjoy within the proper context.” He pointed to you and then to himself. “This is not the proper context. If I wasn’t a priest, then it would be different. This is real life. What we do has real consequences.”

“If you weren’t a priest,” you murmured. You swallowed the remainder of your drink and slammed it on the island. Warmth flooded your body and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or him or a combination of both. Likely the latter. “Tell me you want me. Tell me I was never imagining things.”

Rafael remained silent.

“You have the right to lose control. I know you think—”

“You don’t know what I think,” Rafael acerbically spat. “And no, I don’t have the right.” He began to pace. “You don’t know the misery I live in when you’re not around.”

“And you think I am not?” you questioned. Your voice wavered and your eyes welled with unshed tears. “It’s never been like this with anyone. Never. I want you. I can’t have you. But please - let me live in the solace that you want me too. That I was never imagining any of it. I am going crazy.”

Rafael paused mid-stride and looked at you. He took a deep breath.

“What’s it gonna be? I am begging you.”

It was like something in him snapped when you said that. Rafael slammed his own drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He walked over and pressed you against the island. You let out a squeak in response. You could feel how hard he was against your belly. He brushed some of your hair back. Your breath hitched and a flush spread along your skin.

“Say it again.”

“Tell me you want me.”

“No - repeat what you said at the end,” he all but growled. You chewed your bottom lip and nodded.

“I beg you.”

“God help me. You beg so prettily,” Rafael murmured. He pulled at you, hands grabbing at hips, lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss. It was over before you could register and you pulled back to look into his eyes. You wrapped your hands on his face and then dove back in, returning the kiss, equally as hard.

The momentum was desperate, frenzied, hands everywhere. You let out a gasp as Rafael backed you against the kitchen island. The scruff of his beard dragged against your skin, his lips working your jaw, your ear, moving down your neck, and you let out a strained moan. You pressed your hips upwards into his, feeling his erection. Rafael had to stop and inhale sharply before resuming his attack on your skin. The tips of his fingers find skin under your shirt, and dig into your flesh. One of your hands is twisted in his shirt, the other grasping the waistband of his sweats as he felt a leg curve around his; it was as if your body functioned in tune to keep him as close as possible.

Rafael’s lips found purchase on the hollow of your neck. You let out a groan as you sagged against him, melting into his embrace. The want was overwhelming.

His hands made way to the front of your jeans and he nimbly undid the button and fly before shoving his large hand down your panties. “So wet for me.”

And you are. You’re so fucking wet, it’s obscene.

The tips of his fingers drag through your slit.

“Fuck,” his teeth scraped along your jaw. “You’re soaking.”

He slid two fingers deep inside of you. You keened wordlessly into his shoulder, biting down on his shoulder to suppress a moan.

“No, no, pretty lamb. Look at me,” Rafael husked, his voice laced with an edge of dominance.

You pulled back and met his gaze. His fingers drove deep up into you, pumping, long and needy. His thumb rubbed against your clit. Your blood is boiling, your body vibrating. You’re close. You know it. He knows it. His fingers continue their momentum, finding that spongey spot inside of you that most folks couldn’t ever find.

The walls of your pussy ripple against his fingers. “Be a good little lamb and come for me.” It was Rafael’s turn to beg. “Be my good girl and give it to me.”

You chanted his name as if it were prayer as you come around his fingers. Your body is abuzz, vibrating. You whine out his name in three syllables as you coat his hand with your arousal. Rafael swallowed your cries as he covered your mouth with his. The kiss, which was initially passionate, slowed in intensity, to just soft, slow licks that almost felt reverent, worshipful. Eventually he pressed his forehead to yours and you both drank in each other’s air, breathing heavily. You whimpered as Rafael removed his fingers from your cunt. You watched him with wide eyes as he slipped his fingers into his mouth. His eyes fluttered close as he let out an appreciative sound.

“Do I taste good, Father?” Your voice was laced with lust.

“My sweet, decadent little lamb,” Rafael complimented. “But we cannot do that again.”

“Do what?” You asked as you pushed him off slightly to give yourself room to drop to the floor. You palmed his cock through his pants, pleased with yourself as he groaned with want and need.

A car backfired and the sound caused you both to startle, effectively ending the spell. Rafael helped you up from the ground. “This cannot happen again.” His voice was firm. And before you could protest any more, you found yourself back outside, the door shutting in your face.

Rafael leaned against the door, his head pounding, his cock aching.

‘You idiot! You shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have given in to your melodic voice and sparkling eyes. You had no business being in his life.

But the crack he left open for you made him believe that he had more to lose now than when he met you at the block party all those moons ago.

He rubbed his face, tired and frustrated. And he went back to bed to once again to take matters in his own hands again. ‘Fuck.’

TBC.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba smut #priest kink #priest! rafael barba #priest! Barba x reader #law and order SVU au #law and order svu fanfic

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ihaveathingforwomen · 1 month

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Masterlist: Mock Trial - Professor AU

Law School Professor!Alex Cabot x Student!Casey Novak

Warnings: 18+ content, sexual themes and scenes, cursing, age gap but no minors, angst. Any other warnings will be mentioned when each chapter is posted!

Description: Casey Novak is becoming top of her class in Law School and she is hurtling towards success. The only thing distracting her; her professor, Alexandra Cabot. Their mutual and unprofessed infatuation has the potential to ruin both of their careers or give them the love story they dream of.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

#casey novak #alex cabot #calex #alex cabot x casey novak #casey novak x alex cabot #law and order svu #alexandra cabot #svu #svu fanfiction #mature #professor au #student au #law school au #olivia benson #elliot stabler #george huang #elizabeth donnelly

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indifferent-depravity · 1 year

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Minors DNI 18+

CW: minor voyeurism

A/N: don't forget requests for everything are open so if you'd like to see anything from me feel free to drop it in my ask box :)

buy me a coffee!

help me escape abuse

my Etsy shop

Sequel to (and probably the start of an ongoing series) Dessert First

~~~

Sonny’s avoiding you, there’s no way around it. Ever since he walked in on you and Rafael in his office he’s run away at the mere mention of your name. And you have to admit, he’s gotten very good at excuses, always having one ready when you show up at Rafael’s office. So you do what every self-respecting person would. Corner him.

And as chance would have it, the perfect opportunity just falls into your lap. Sonny’s leaving Rafael’s office as you’re walking up and without thinking you grab his arm, pulling him into a dark meeting room. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor as he tries to make one of his famous excuses, inching towards the door, causing you to step in front of it. “You’re going to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me,” you say firmly and cross your arms.

Sonny stutters, “I-I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, doll- ma-ma’am!” his face turns deep red and your face falls, an inexplicable ache settling in your chest at his correction.

“Did I do something to upset you?” You ask quietly, “Rafa and I think very highly of you, and if I did something then-“

His eyes shoot up to look at you, his hands hesitating in the air as he reaches for you, “N-no of course not!”

“You’ve never called me ma’am before.” You give him a cross look, “Dominick Carisi, don’t tell me there’s nothing going on because there is and I’m not letting you leave until you tell me.”

Sonny’s shoulders slump and he sighs, “Nothin’ gets past you, huh?” When you don’t reply he scrubs his hand across his face, “I-I just didn't know how to face you after… after walking in on you and Barba. I didn't mean to upset you, doll.”

You step closer to him and uncross your arms, reaching out to touch his wrist, “That’s what this is about? That wasn’t your fault, we should have locked the door, neither of us is upset about it.” Sonny jumps like you shocked him and shakes his head, almost tripping over a chair in his attempt to back away from you.

“It’s not that, I…It-it's not you that I’m upset with.” He sighs again, hanging his head, “I’m upset with myself… with–with the way I reacted.”

Your breath leaves you in a rush and you ask, heart pounding, “The way you reacted?”

Sonny sinks into the chair behind him with a sigh, leaning forward to bury his face in his hands, “Y’gotta understand how embarrassing this is, doll. You’re Barba’s partner and I respect that but- but when I saw you… like that, I just- it-” He trails off into a groan.

You press your lips together, thinking for a moment before taking a step towards him, “You know me and Rafael are polyamorous, right?” You ask and his head shoots up making you giggle a little at the absurdity of the situation. “Yeah, it’s something we talked about before we started dating.” You take another step towards him, settling between his splayed legs.

You reach towards Sonny to tuck a stray hair back into place, “Rafael’s been asking me about you, too. I think he could tell I’ve been taking a shine to you.” He gives you a dumbfounded look, gaping at you like a fish. You giggle again and cup his jaw, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb, “We were going to talk to you about it but then you started avoiding us before we could.”

Sonny hesitates, his hands hovering beside your thighs for a moment before dropping back into his lap. He swallows hard, leaning back to look up at you, “You’re not kidding?”

You roll your eyes and bend down, kissing him in lieu of answering. He makes a sound in the back of his throat when you pull away, resting your forehead against his, “Does that answer your question?

Sonny lets out a breathy laugh, “Yeah I guess it does.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you again?”

Sonny chokes, eyes flashing up to yours. You keep your eyes on him, waiting for an answer when he suddenly stands up, crowding you back against the table. You gasp at the sudden movement, bringing your hands up to grab his shoulders as he bends down to claim your mouth in a deep kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist and you whine into his mouth, arching into him.

Sonny’s breathing heavily when he pulls away, a faint blush settling high on his neck, “That okay?”

You smile and nod, standing on your toes to kiss him again, “More than.” You grow silent, enjoying the warmth radiating from him and the feeling of his lips on yours.

Sonny’s phone ringing brings you back to reality and Sonny staggers back, his face a deep red. “I-I’m sorry, doll, I didn’t mean- that was- that was inappropriate of me.” He rushes, going back to avoiding your gaze as he pulls his phone out, backing up towards the door, “I should- I should go, Liv is calling and-”

“Dominick.”

He freezes and you take the opportunity to close the gap between you, pulling him down by his neck into a kiss, “You’re going to come by my apartment after work and we’re going to really talk about this. Understood?” The tone in your voice left no room for protest and Sonny nods, his heart skipping a beat at your responding smile, “Good, I’ll see you later then.” You leave him with a final kiss, swallowing a giggle as you make your way to Rafael’s office.

You grin when you shut the door, a giggle finally bubbling out of your throat and Rafael snorts, “Got Carisi to talk, huh?” You nod, practically skipping over to him to greet him with a kiss.

“He’s coming to the apartment after work.” You grin, biting your lip as you try to control your excitement.

“About fucking time.”

~~~

You pace the living room of the apartment you share with Rafael, wringing your hands as you wait for Sonny to arrive. Rafael watches exasperated, catching your wrist on your next pass in front of him, “Cariño, please sit down, you’re making me nervous and I wasn’t even planning on fucking the guy.”

You roll your eyes with a sigh but sink down onto the couch beside him, though you couldn’t help it as your leg bounced nervously, “What if I scared him away, Rafael? What if he decided to just avoid me forever.”

He scoffs and pulls you into his side, planting a kiss on the side of your head, “Baby, calm down, I doubt Liv has even let him clock out yet.” You let out another deep sigh and tuck your face against his neck, trying to let his warmth relax you.

Twenty minutes later, the buzzer goes off and you shoot up, almost elbowing Rafael in the groin in your rush to get up. You throw a weak apology behind you as you tug open your door. You buzz Sonny in and bound down the stairs, knocking him off balance with a hug, “You’re here!”

He lets out a laugh and wraps his arms around you, “Of course I am. Sorry I’m late, doll.”

You pull back with a grin and lace your fingers with his, “It’s okay, you’re here now.” You tug him up the stairs back to your apartment. “Look who I found,” You announce as you enter the apartment and Rafael snorts, standing to meet you as you pull Sonny into the living room.

“Good of you to come, Carisi.” He nods and Sonny gives him a nervous smile, almost a grimace as he pulls his hand from yours, putting some distance between you under the gaze of Rafael.

You whip around to give Sonny a sharp look, “You better not be trying to leave.”

He holds his hands up in surrender with a small laugh, “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.” His heart warms at your smile and he lets you direct him into a seat across from Rafael. You stand between them silently, butterflies filling your stomach as you look at the two men.

Rafael cooly leans back, fixing his eyes on Sonny, “So you want to fuck my partner.” Sonny immediately clams up, a bright red blush growing up his neck and you shoot a warning glare at Rafael.

“I-I don’t- I mean, I do- I mean-” Sonny cuts himself off with a hard swallow, looking down at his lap as he runs his palms over his pants, “M-maybe I should just go.” You turn to Rafael with a harsh frown and he starts laughing.

“Carisi it’s fine. I mean look at them, it’s hard not to want to.” Sonny’s face goes red, glancing between you and the door. You press your lips into a thin line and sit down next to him, lightly touching his arm.

“What Rafael is trying to say, is he’s okay with us being together.” You say gently, sending another glare in Rafael’s direction, “He wants me to be happy. And he wouldn’t tease you like this if he didn’t like you.” Rafael grumbles at the last part but stays quiet as Sonny takes a shaky breath.

Sonny looks at you, eyebrows pinched together with worry, and places his hand over yours “Doll, I-I don’t want to step on any toes here. Y-you’re happy with Barba and-”

“Carisi just shut up and kiss my wife.” Sonny gapes at him and you snort, sliding a hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss before he could protest. He makes a shocked noise in the back of his throat but kisses back, tangling his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck.

You smile into the kiss, gently pushing him back so you can swing your leg over his. You settle into his lap and break the kiss with a sharp breath, “Don’t let him intimidate you, he’s just bossy when he’s not the center of attention.” Rafael scoffs with a murmured “No I’m not” and you giggle softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Sonny’s mouth. Sonny’s hands hover over your thighs, his breath quickening at your warmth soaking through his pants. You guide his hands under your skirt with a hum, “You can touch me, Dominick.”

A whimper rips from his throat and he grabs handfuls of your thighs, eyes already glazed over with lust when he looks up at you. You nod encouragingly and grind against his lap, leaning into another deep kiss. He moans into your mouth, bucking up into you before he could stop himself.

You hum, hands coming up to undo his tie as you trail soft kisses over his jaw. Sonny’s fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and you rock back into his hands with a moan, “That’s it, baby, just like that.” Sonny wets his lips, head tilting back with a shaky sigh to give you more space as your kisses dip down to his neck.

You delve your hands into his shirt, digging your fingers into his shoulders as you grind against him. “D-doll, I-” He trails off into a moan, squeezing his eyes shut as his hips buck up into you again.

“Don’t tease the man, Cariño.” Rafael’s voice breaks the silence, a hitch in his breath as he palms himself through his pants.

You hum, “Stop backseat fucking if you’re not going to join. I’m trying to ease him into it.” You nudge your nose against Sonny’s ghosting your lips over his, “He needs to tell me what he wants.” Sonny cranes his neck to deepen the kiss, whining softly when you pull out of reach with a murmur, “C’mon baby, be a good boy and tell me what you want.”

“I want… I want to fuck you. Please let me fuck you.” You smile, leaning down to kiss him gently. Sonny’s hands travel up your skirt and squeeze your ass before slipping to the front of your panties, fingers slipping underneath the fabric to press against your clit. Your breath catches, a small whimper falling from your lips as Sonny pushes his tongue into your mouth.

“Turn around, Cariño, I want to watch your face as he fucks you.” Your cunt throbs at his words and you slip off Sonny’s lap, standing long enough to pull your panties down your legs before settling back against his chest. “Lift your skirt, baby. Let me see that pussy.” Rafael watched with hooded eyes as you pulled your skirt up to your hips, squeezing his hard cock through his pants as your pussy comes into view. You’re wet with arousal, thighs sticky with your juices.

You tilt your head back against Sonny’s shoulder as he runs his fingers through your folds and groans at the smooth glide of his fingers through your wetness. “Fuck, doll.” He bites his lip as he sinks his fingers into your core, his other hand coming up to grip your hip and ground himself as he slowly fucks his fingers into you. You whine, grinding your hips down in a silent plea for more.

Your hands reach back, blindly fumbling with Sonny’s belt for a moment before it gives way, allowing you to push your hand into his pants. He gasps at the first touch to his cock, fingers stilling inside you as you start stroking him, ignoring the strain in your wrist from the position as you spread his precum down his shaft.

At Rafael’s groan, you look back at him, whining as you watch him slowly stroking his cock. He smirks at you, squeezing the base of his cock with a satisfied sigh, “Go on, Cariño, ride Carisi’s cock. Be good for me.”

You nod and rise on shaky knees to align Sonny’s cock with your entrance, leaning back to connect your lips in a deep kiss as he slowly sinks into you. Sonny whines into your mouth, gripping your hips tightly as you bottom out. He holds you against his lap and his forehead falls forward onto your shoulder, “Fuck! Fuck, doll, y’gotta give me a second or I’ll blow my load too fast.”

You giggle breathlessly, closing your eyes as you swivel your hips experimentally. A grin forms on your face as Sonny lets out a loud groan, slamming his hips up into you. You let Sonny choose the pace, body pliant under his hands as he starts guiding your hips to grind against him.

You bring your hand up to cup the back of Sonny’s neck, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, moaning into it as his cock hits a spot deep inside you. He’s whimpering, thrusting his hips desperately into you, driven half-crazy by your tight wet heat surrounding his cock. You feel fingers on your clit and you cry out, bleary-eyed as you look to see Rafael over you, pressing harsh circles against your core.

“You gonna cum for us, Cariño? Gonna be a little slut and cum on Carisi’s cock in front of me?” His voice has a mocking edge to it as he presses his fingers against your clit harder, your body tensing as it pushes you closer to the edge.

You whine, tilting your head up with a pout, “R-Rafa, don’t be mea-” You’re cut off by a ragged moan, thighs clenching around Sonny’s legs as Rafael rips an orgasm out of you. You shudder, pressing your face into Rafael’s stomach as tears prick your eyes from the overwhelming feeling of hands on you.

Sonny chokes “d-doll, ‘m gonna--” his hips stuttering as you tighten around him, pulling him over the edge with you.

Rafael tips your head up and hums when you look at him with a hazy gaze, returning his hand to his neglected cock. He strokes himself quickly, breath coming out in short pants as he takes in your wrecked look. “You look so good getting fucked, Cariño. All desperate and whiny once you get a cock in you, huh?” You let out a whine with a pout and he laughs breathlessly, pressing his thumb into your mouth, “Just proved my point, baby.” He forces your mouth open and his laugh morphs into a low groan as he cums, covering your mouth and tongue with his release.

You swallow and slump back against Sonny, a satisfied grin stretching across your face when he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you tighter against his chest, “You’ll never be able to get rid of me now, Dominick.”

“Who said I wanted to?” He hums, tucking his face into your neck as his cock twitches inside you. Your eyes slip shut and you sink further into Sonny’s embrace, basking in the warm afterglow.

#sonny carisi x reader #rafael barba x reader #sonny/rafael poly au #sonny carisi x reader x rafael barba #sonny carisi #rafael barba #rafael barba smut #sonny carisi smut #sonny carisi svu #rafael barba svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order #law and order svu #svu #polyamory #writing

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buzziightqueer · 14 days

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alex lovess dressing nice and since she comes from money she knows her way around designer brands and tailors

fashion designer au where alex falls in love with the woman who tailors her suits

#i need this in my life #au #law and order svu #alex cabot #svu

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fandomworld9728 · 18 days

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I've been watching a lot of Law & Order: SVU and for some reason... I now want there to be a Law & Order: SVU Radioapple AU. I can't be the only one who sees it right?

#law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #radioapple #radioapple au #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel alastor

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wild-fleurs · 1 month

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Lately I sometimes think about how Calex could happen if Alex still ended up in Witness Protection but Casey didn’t move to SVU (this is ignoring/au of my totally canon theory that Alex & Casey knew each other before she went away & were at least friends if not dating)

I don’t remember if this was canon or just my brain randomly filling in gaps or misremembering but wasn’t “Emily” an insurance agent or something like that? I know nothing about that kind of work entails day to day but also no real knowledge but a vague feeling I learned somewhere that mafia/money laundering types used to use small companies like that to clean dodgy money or do those fake injury cons? Or ensure stuff then oops it burnt down or got stolen collect payout type of schemes?

So “Emily” could have definitely stumbled into evidence of a white collar crime (to be honest again I don’t know much about what either except thinking of it as crimes to do with money) & in reporting it somehow end up getting to know Casey that way (I get that different states makes that less likely but shhhhhhh just go with it, that’s the least of our worries… or quick work around the company is considered a New York company so Casey has the case “Emily” is just in the Wisconsin office)

So Casey & “Emily” obviously fall in love (Calex are inevitable & perfect for each other) over building the case so mainly phone calls & emails & occasional weekends away whatever is halfway from Wisconsins & New York lol (because adorableness & hotness!)

I feel like Casey would think “Emily”/Alex was hiding something or knows stuff she’s not telling her (Alex’s lawyers smarts & debating & reasoning would definitely come out to play with Casey haha) but decides it falls under the whole if I don’t know I’m not obligated to officially acknowledge it type of lawyer logic

So if anybody else wants to come live in this bizarre scenario I heavily (desperately) encourage it & if anybody also wants to write it PLEASE DO & send me a link

Imagine Casey one day transfers to SVU or just sees a photo of “Emily” but it’s Alex Cabot… oooooo drama

#calex #law and order svu #alex cabot x casey novak #casey novak x alex cabot #casey novak #alex cabot #alexandra cabot x casey novak #random idea #fic idea #au fic idea i wish somebody would write for me #never happened more than any of the other never happened ideas lol

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magicalboything · 11 months

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tmnt pixels ? :3

i dont usually do pixel req anymore but KJHGEHJDHGHJEH ohmygod ninja turtle. ninja. tortle love them so much skrunkly silly pops SCREAMS ./pos

mikey/orange pixels - ☆ ☆ ☆

donnie/purple pixels - ☆ ☆ ☆

leo/blue pixels - ☆ ☆ ☆

raph/red pixels - ☆ ☆ ☆

and depending on what version of the turtles your looking for their signature colors can go with other colors too ! ie; rise leo blue/red, most donnies purple/green/black, 2k12 & rise mikey orange/yellow/rainbow, 2k3/2k12 raph black/dark grey/dark purple and so on !

pixels/favicons made by me,,,

misc favicons

shredders revenge game pixels - might need to downsize for a favicon look

random pixels i found,,,

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iobsessoverfictionalmen · 11 months

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The Sounds of Justice - Master List

Warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, mentions and descriptions of jail, car crashes, lying, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), mentions of rape (not to the reader), and unwanted advances (nothing happens to the reader).

A/N: This is my response to the mafia AU poll that I posted. It was a challenge to write it but it was worth it. Comments and reblogs are very much welcomed and I hope you enjoy the fic. Please take notice of the warnings; they are exactly the same as the warnings on this page and they will be at the top of each chapter.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

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carisi-dreams · 4 months

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⭐⭐⭐

yay, this is so fun! so, I thought I'd give you the director's commentary of the below snippet from the first chronological fill of the mc!au with Sonny. happy to do this for another au or anything else I've ever written, though! it's fun thinking about the behind the scenes because these stories really live inside of my head. I also have another request for another director's commentary of the mc!au, but I have to write the next mc!Sonny installment first, because that's what I want to do commentary on.

You turned with an incredulous look on your face as Nick lunged. Sonny just barely got his arms around him in time to prevent the fight from breaking out as Griffin laughed nastily. “Fuck you! You don’t know shit about my family,” Nick shouted as he strained against Sonny’s hold. Sonny was refusing to let go and he said something to Nick that you couldn’t hear which got Nick to calm down a little. “He’s not worth it,” Sonny sneered in Griffin’s direction. Nick shook Sonny off and readjusted his clothes as you looked on tensely.

This part makes me sad that Sonny and Nick ended up in different motorcycle clubs. I had to show how close their relationship was, to develop proper tension within the AU, but I've always felt like Sonny and Nick just belonged together in some way in every universe. Whether as friends, partners, or more, I think they're fun characters to pair together. Sonny as the protective one and one to defuse Nick's anger now and then Sonny as the one who is so angry with Nick when they get older. Oof. Pulls at my heart.

“Aww, look at this. How touching. Baby Dominick is here to stop you from getting in over your head. You really don’t fight any of your own battles, do you?” Griffin taunted and just then you rushed by the boys and threw your drink in his face. He stepped back with an indignant bellow and you went to lunge for him. Nick caught you around the middle and you fought against his hold. “You dumb jock! I could kick your ass with my hands tied behind my back!” you screamed. “Stupid asshole. Get some fucking friends of your own or are you miserable because you know no one likes you!?” you hurled in his direction and your hand swept out to the counter to your left to pick up a bottle. Nick grabbed your hand and folded it into your body, picking you up off the floor as you kicked your legs at Griffin in rage. “Dumb bitch,” Griffin spluttered as he wiped tequila out of his eyes. “You’re lu—”

Nick as the one to try to stop you instead of Sonny to show the closeness of your relationship with Nick...Oof again. There's a reason Sonny's old lady asked Nick to walk her down the aisle. It's the same reason she was reluctant to pursue a relationship with Sonny. She really relies on and appreciates her friendship with Nick and she didn't want to lose it (Oof again, I know), even as much as she had a huge crush on Sonny. Sonny's old lady has always been the more practical one when it comes to the big picture, which shouldn't come as a surprise to you if you've read this AU!

Before he could finish his sentence Sonny punched him in the face. Nick groaned and hastily set you aside and went over to pull off Sonny as he yelled at Griffin. “Wanna call my girl—friends name!? See how you like this you dumb asshole, I swear to God I’ll—” he shouted in between punches. Nick got his arms around Sonny’s waist and went to pull him away, but Sonny slipped his grip and kicked Griffin where he was on the floor. “Get up you—” “Sonny, stop! Stop. Sonny come on! Stop!” Nick was yelling over him as he tried to haul him away again. You rushed over to help him, pushing Sonny away before he could seriously injure Griffin. “Stop!” you told him and Sonny stopped struggling and spat on the ground by Griffin before shrugging roughly out of Nick’s grip and making a beeline out of the kitchen.

When the reader told Sonny to stop trying to fight Griffin, he listened...That little slip of the tongue? The way he was done with the fight until Griffin had something to say about the reader...? yeAh, he's already in deep.

When the three of you hit the front door you sighed. You took a look at them both and laughed a little which Sonny rolled his eyes to before chuckling a little himself. Nick looked at the both of you like you were crazy as he walked along next to you and tugged at his shirt.

One of Nick's tells is that he fidgets with his clothing when he's upset.

“Um, that was more eventful than I thought it would be,” you admitted around a giggle and Sonny slapped his thigh as he broke off into more peals of laughter. Nick still wasn’t laughing and you threw your arms around his shoulders in a sideways hug. “Come on, Nicky. Gotta admit it was a little funny. All three of us trying to kick his ass.”

These three. 💔 Nick was definitely feeling some kind of way, and well justified in that!, and I wanted to show how - already - Sonny and the reader are so similar in some ways. Those two laughing about trying to kick someone's ass on Nick's behalf is honestly a pretty good summary of their relationship, although I write a ton of angst. The basis for their relationship is being fiercely protective of the people they love and a bit of mischievousness.

I hope you enjoyed this director's commentary. 💖

______________

You can find links to the mc!au below, if you've never read it.

Motorcycle Club!AU - Sonny

Motorcycle Club!AU - Nick

#mc!au #mc!nick #mc!sonny #sonny carisi #nick amaro #svu au

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bullet-prooflove · 3 months

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Headcannons for being in a poly!relationship with Joe Velasco, Mike Duarte & Terry Bruno

Tagging: @rosaliedepp You did this! It got too long for reblogs so I thought I would do everyone a favour and pop it behing a readmore.

Following on from this HC

I can literally imagine Mike sighing and watering these poor plants because Terry forget to all the time because of shifts. He would complain to the plants but then prune them when they are a bit wild. Terry is the one that repots them though when they get a little big.

Sleeping Arrangements:

Night time I imagine it's you and Joe in the middle, Mike on one side of you, face to face and Joe draped over your back. Terry always snuggles in with Joe because he's good at soothing him when he has nightmares or sleep paralysis.

Workplace:

So in work I think it's kinda an open secret. Everyone acts professional, they're cops they have to but there's always small gestures. I think Mike and you work in different divisions so you're not all in one place at one time unless a case crosses over. I think with Terry and Joe it's more noticeable, Terry will always reach out to Joe during a hard case, like a shoulder squeeze, or drops by his desk for a chat, even a quick hug in the locker room. Likewise Joe will make sure Terry eats as I think he gets hyper focus sometimes. If anyone is feels they haven't seen one of the others, they will drop by their desk to check in and make sure their ok and looking after themselves.

If there is an argument at home Terry is very good at being professional and will be cool and a little aloof. Joe will probably ignore Terry if the issue is with him unless he absolutely has to respond. Terry is very good at defusing situations so if Joe does get snappy he will give him space until he is ready.

I think Joe and Terry told Liv together, like we're in this relationship with Mike and reader. It doesn't effect or work but you have to know for HR.

With people making comments in a professional environment Mike would go for the throat. He would verbally eviscerate them, he is very protective of the three of the three of you and hates his business being blasted. Joe is more likely to get into a scuffle. Terry is more likely to ignore it. The only time he can’t ignore it is when you’re branded a slut for it. Then he’s getting in someone’s face. The one time Mike was called to deal with one of you in custody, he was very surprised to find Terry in the holding cell with an ice pack on his face because someone couldn’t keep their mouth shut. Mike had a word with the fella afterwards.

PDA:

I think PDA is very dependant on person so Mike’s not massive on PDA in general as he’s a very private person. He’s all about light touches, lingering in your proximity, buying drinks and giving you that smile. I think Mike genuinely relaxes when he’s round the three of you, even if you’re out. He laughs more, touches more. Terry’s sort of flipflops with PDA, he’s very intuitive so if he feels someone needs it he’ll willingly give it. If not, he’s happy to sit in his chair and laugh with the rest of you. Joe, I feel is hands on and it progresses the more he drinks. I think he uses touch as reassurance, (do you still want me, I’m here kind of thing) He’s hand on whoever’s at the bar’s lower back, kiss on the head as he drifts past one of you to go the bathroom, even playing pool he’s like let me show you how to line it up better. Terry and you enjoy that, Mike doesn’t need his pool game stepping up, he was hustling to make ends meet back in the day.

When it comes to anyone putting themselves in danger it plays out like this:

Mike will go through every possible eventuality with whichever one of you it is. He will try to deter at first but if they’re resolute, you bet his baby is gonna be as prepared as possible. He’s one running through UC identities with you, peppering with questions trying to catch you out. He’s also the one that makes sure the person has a weapon they can use on them at all times, he’s given every single one of you a push dagger just in case. When they are away on op he’s grumpy, short tempered and abrasive, constantly checking in with the superiors for updates.

Terry is the one that checks in on the emotional well being. He learns as much as he can about the op, the people who are watching your back and expresses how important the person is and what may happen of they get harmed. He usually uses Mike as the threat. When their away on op he busies himself as much as possible and tries his best to take care of the others as Mike will drink too much and Joe will spend a little too much time at the gym beating the shit out of people.

Joe will give whoever it is tips because he’s had the most UC experience up to date. He’ll have burner stowed away at a mutual location close to the target area in case shit does hit the fan. You have a code word that the others don’t know about in case things get a little dark. He will also be super clingy on the lead up. He suffers a lot when of the others goes away. He doesn’t sleep well, constantly asking Mike for updates. The other two in the relationship will take care of him, make sure he eats and pay him special attention.

This was fun feel free to send more!

Love our Polybois? Don’t miss any of their stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#joe velasco #joe velasco x reader #terry bruno #terry bruno x reader #mike duarte #mike duarte x reader #poly!au #law and order svu #l&o svu #svu

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thatesqcrush · 2 months

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I’m currently in New Orleans and I want to write a fic where Barba is an attorney that represents vamps (so he works at night).

#this is self indulgent #fic ideas #rafaelbarba #rafael barba fanfiction #new orleans #Nola #big easy #vampire aesthetic #svufanfic #SVU fic au

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ihaveathingforwomen · 26 days

Text

Mock Trial - Professor AU

Professor!Alex Cabot x Fellow!Casey Novak

Chapter 8 - Masterlist

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: Liz figures out who Alex's ethical dilemma is. Alex and Casey reconvene.

A/N: For the outfits in the holiday party: Casey's red suit in Season 8, ep "Pretend" and Alex's black blouse thing in Season 10 ep "Lead." alsooooooo prepare for smut the next chapter :)

The next three days felt like hell on earth for both Alex and Casey. Despite her new emotional burden, Casey now also had to study for and take her final exams. All of which are detrimental to her success for the next two years at least. To create enough room in her consciousness, Casey resorted to ignoring the problem. Alex sent numerous texts and attempted many phone calls in an earnest effort to apologize and offer an opportunity to discuss the issue. Casey ignored them, even when Charlie read them and encouraged her to respond.

That night, she went to his apartment and detailed what had happened. As any good friend would do, he kindly asked, “what the fuck?” She then went on to explain that as badly as she wants Alex, she’s more afraid of ruining their careers. Charlie initially wanted to call it a load of horseshit, but he elected to validate her concerns instead. He decided that after finals, he would reassure her they could be together and not ruin their careers. Until then, he planned to have her back on the issue.

Conversely, Alex didn’t attempt to talk to anyone else that night. She sent her messages and decided that she would give Casey space, at least until the morning. No sleep came to her that night, her mind full of regret and concern. Compulsively, she felt the need to call Casey for help falling asleep. Each day she started with darker circles, her eyes sunken deeper than before. Liv came over, trying to coax her out of bed with ice cream and sitcoms. When her methods were fruitless, she called George in for an ‘intervention’ of sorts. The three of them sat on Alex’s couch in sweatpants and stared at the blank tv screen, waiting for Alex to speak. When she eventually did, all she could whisper was, “what did I do wrong?” before bursting into sobs. They held her close and George attempted to talk her through what had happened and what may be going on in Casey’s mind.

That Monday, Alex composed herself and decided she would make a point to see Casey, even if they didn’t speak. Seeing her would be better than nothing. Casey, however, wanted nothing more than to see Alex, though she wouldn’t let herself do such a thing. She refused to seek her out. Fortunately, the universe had plans for both of them. Just as Alex parks, she spots Casey walking towards the entrance to the building. She gets out of her car hurriedly and follows, trying to get closer before saying anything in hopes of avoiding a scene.

A few feet away, Alex began walking faster, “Casey?” She calls out. The redhead doesn’t turn around and instead marches forward in the brisk cold, her jacket collar turned upwards against the wind.

“Casey, wait,” Alex calls out again, this time closer.

Casey pauses and allows Alex to catch up, turning towards her. “What?” She whispers hoarsely.

“Can we talk?” Alex pleads

Casey furrows her brow in frustration, using her arms to gesture to the public nature of their conversation, “here? Seriously, Alex?”

Alex shrugs, her eyes sad, “we can talk in my office.”

Casey notices how dark the circles around her eyes have gotten, sure she hadn’t slept since their last phone call. “No,” she asserts and continues walking towards the building. Alex walks beside her. Because of the early hour of Casey’s final, not many people are walking around campus, making it easier for them to walk and talk without their emotions being spotted.

Inside the building, Alex strikes up again. “We don’t have to talk about what happened,” she tries to reason, her tone hopeful. “Just about anything, please?”

Casey’s heart aches, yearning for Alex’s company, for her solace during this stressful week. She concedes with caution, “what about?”

Alex smiles as they approach the elevator. Casey reaches out and presses the button, Alex watching her with beaming eyes. “Are you going to the holiday party on Thursday?”

Casey furrows her brow as the elevator dings, opening for them. They step in and Casey presses the button for her floor, Alex pressing her button afterwards. “Yes, why?”

“Do you need a ride?”

Casey rolls her eyes. She would love to ride with Alex instead, but until there was time to resolve their issue, she was going to avoid it. “No, I’m carpooling with Charlie.”

“Oh,” Casey registers defeat in Alex’s tone. They allow for a few seconds of silence in the elevator, until Alex turns towards her. Casey follows suit and their gazes meet, locking for a moment before their eyes drift lower. “Can I ask you something?” Alex inquires.

Casey’s response is automatic, “yes,” her eyes glued to Alex’s peach-toned lips.

“When can we talk about it?”

Casey’s eyes unstick themselves and glare into Alex’s eyes. “You’re relentless,” she states spitefully. Alex shrugs, hoping for an answer to the question. “After the holiday party.”

Alex grins as Casey turns back to face the elevator door. “I have another question.”

Casey turns her neck slowly, glaring impatiently. Alex licks her lip, her eyes still stuck on Casey’s mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Alex?” Casey snaps at the same time the elevator doors slide open, revealing Elizabeth Donnelly, whose eyes widen at what she heard.

With the couples’ heads facing the entryway, Casey feigns a smile and happy face, “Hi, Professor Donnelly.”

Elizabeth steps inside the elevator, the doors closing slowly behind her. “Aren’t we awful chummy with our professors, Miss Novak?” Casey smiles awkwardly, unsure how to proceed as Liz keeps her back to the elevator doors. “What final are you heading to?”

Casey gulps, keeping her eyes trained on the other professor. “Capital Punishment,” she answers.

Liz nods her head in an approving manner, “That makes sense for your career path. Professor Schreiber says you’re faring well so far.”

Casey nods lightly, “thank you.”

Liz turns towards Alex, smirking, “what are you doing here today? I thought you weren’t proctoring any finals?”

“Oh,” Alex begins, nervous laughter at the top of her throat, “I just came in to catch up on paperwork.”

Liz squints her eyes with suspicion, “I’m going to come by your office this afternoon.”

Alex nods in agreement as the elevator pings. Casey starts to scoot her way out, practically running from the situation at hand. Liz makes a face at Alex as she steps off of the elevator as well. Behind them, the elevator doors close on Alex. Casey snuck off to the side, focusing on her breathing.

Liz spots her and approaches, placing her hand on Casey’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Novak. We’ve all fallen for the Cabot Magic,” she pats her shoulder and makes her way down the hallway. Casey’s face runs a bright scarlet and a wave of nausea runs through her.

----------

That afternoon, Liz made good on her promise and arrived at Alex’s office to find her sifting through papers. She made no effort to knock, coming in and closing the door behind her.

Alex glances up, not paying attention when she recognizes her visitor, “hi,” she mutters over her papers.

“It’s Novak, isn’t it?” Liz asserts, setting her stuff down with a smug look on her face.

Alex looks up, wide eyed and surprised. “What?”

Liz laughs genuinely, “don’t play me. Your behavior on the elevator said it all.” She approaches Alex with her arms crossed against her chest. “Your ethical dilemma, it’s Novak.” She nods, proud of herself, the smug look smeared all over her face.

Alex swallows and takes a deep breath. “Yes…it is,” her tone is hesitant as she admits her sin.

Liz guffaws, sighing as she sits down in front of Alex’s desk. “Of all the students for you to pick, you’re very lucky it’s her.”

Alex furrows her brow and leans forward, “What do you mean?”

Liz leans forward, resting her arms on the desk and clasping her hands into a fist. She licks her lips and looks Alex in the eye. “You both are more valuable to the university than you know.” Alex tilts her head to the side, trying to understand. Liz continues confidently, “They are not going to expel one of their best students or fire one of their best instructors simply because two consenting adults decide to get into a relationship.”

“But it’s against the bylaws, Liz. I could get her in serious trouble,” Alex starts to object.

Liz leans back in her seat, waving her hand back and forth so as to dismiss Alex’s objection. “This university cares far more about politics and statistics than it does its own bylaws, Alex.” She crosses her leg over her knee, resting her elbow on top. “Do you know how much money your name alone has brought to the university?” Alex shakes her head, confused, her eyes sad as she listens. “A lot.”

Liz uncrosses her legs and leans forward, wagging a finger at Alex, “Do you know Casey’s class ranking?”

Alex scoffs, shaking her head, “No, I never thought to ask.”

Liz widens her eyes skeptically, “she may not know. After spring semester grades, she’s in the top ten. Not ten percent, ten, Alex. Rumor has it she’s applying to the New York City District Attorney’s office,” she exhales. “Myself and Dean Petrovsky have already received a few calls from them with glowing interest.”

Alex’s face falls, conflicted at the thought of Casey leaving, at the thought of Casey going to her origin. “What are you saying, Liz?” Alex whispers, her face expressing confusion and concern.

“I’m saying,” she crosses her arms on top of her knees as she stares up at Alex, hoping to offer solace to the apparent tension that she and Casey are experiencing. “Neither of you have to worry about your careers. Now, don’t go advertising your relationship, but you don’t have to stay away forever.”

Alex nods, taking a deep breath through her nostrils. The reassurance is helpful, but still does not resolve the issue at hand. “I don’t even know if she feels the same, Liz.”

Liz laughs, “Alex, the tension between you both and the way she looked at you,” she takes a deep breath, “or rather, didn’t look at you, in the elevator tells me she feels the same. When we got off of the elevator, her face was beet red. Maybe that’s because of me, but…” she smiles wide at Alex, “I think it’s because of you.”

Alex leans back in her seat, her hand covering her mouth and chin as she thinks. “She told me ‘not now,’ what does that mean to you Liz?” Alex asks, her tone mistakenly defensive, though Elizabeth knows she’s being genuine. Alex has always struggled with taking things for what they are.

“I think it means just that.” Liz starts to stand, Alex’s eyes following her. She now notices just how sunken in they��ve become since they last spoke. “She’s taking some pretty important finals and she’s at a detrimental point in her life right now. You can’t tell me you’ve lost perspective, Alex.”

Alex’s eyes flick downward in thought. The most obvious explanation had never come to mind between her own dwelling on the situation and with her friends’ advice. She sighs, a soft smile rising to her cheeks as she leans back against her chair. “Thank you,” she whispers to Liz.

Liz gathers her things and starts back towards the door, “of course, Alex. Let me know how it goes.” Without another word, her companion slips through the door and disappears.

A couple of seconds later, Alex’s phone dings. When she checks it, her face lights up, relief washing over her as she had been kicking herself.

Casey <3: I finished my Capital Punishment final

While the message isn’t much, Alex still feels a sense of repose as she gazes lovingly at the photo beside it. She messages her back, quick to offer a listening ear in hopes that Casey will talk. On the other end, Casey steps into her apartment, collapsing on her bed. With one final out of the way, Casey starts to allow emotions to trickle in. The conglomerate of emotions bubbles inside her chest, the ingredients of heartache, desire, frustration, and excitement becoming explosive together. Her body longs for the kiss again, feeling the tingle of Alex’s lips on her own. Her stomach aches when she remembers Alex’s reaction: the devastated look in her eye, the trembling lip, her scrunched eyebrows. Her arms tense at the frustration of Alex’s stunt in the elevator, unsure what exactly Professor Donnelly had meant by the Cabot Magic. And excitement bursts in her chest in anticipation of the holiday party and when she’ll talk to Alex.

Casey continued to push down the emotions throughout the week, electing to push through her finals. To alleviate some of the emotional distress, she resumed texting Alex, so long as the conversation did not touch the topic of the kiss. It seemed to her that Alex was content with her answer as she did not bring up the topic again. Meanwhile, Alex respected Casey’s decision with her newfound understanding. She couldn’t stop tearing herself down, though, still in disbelief that she had been so oblivious. To keep herself from dwelling, she tried to imagine what she would say to Casey when the moment came.

The week finally came to an end, with Casey’s last final in Trial Practice taking place the afternoon before the holiday party. Throughout the final, she felt self-conscious but ignored it, Alex’s words of praise and encouragement replaying in her mind as she conducted her open argument and cross-examination. Once she’d completed her part, she felt a weight lift off of her shoulders and the excitement begin to overflow. When the examination process was over, everyone left the faux courtroom, with the exception of the professors who played their parts as witnesses. Professor Donnelly, Dean Petrovsky, Professor Schreiber, and Professor Ridinour, all stayed behind.

“Casey,” Petrovsky calls just as she starts walking out of the room. She spins on her heel, a question written on her face. Petrovsky waves her over to the group of professors. She smiles awkwardly at her professors, her dimples ever present as she approaches them, standing in a semi-circle around her.

“Dean,” she begins, looking around at them, “I’ve had this dream before only I was naked,” she comments awkwardly, deflecting her anxiety with humor.

Petrovsky sighs and the other professors snicker, looking between each other. Ridinour turns towards her first, “We just wanted to tell you that you did a tremendous job with your cross-examination.”

“Absolutely wonderful,” Schreiber agrees.

“Did you have someone to practice with?” Petrovsky questions.

“I practiced with Charlie Hammons,” she responds sheepishly.

“Did someone give you pointers?” Donnelly questions her.

Casey’s face turns bright red as she looks between her professors and the dean. “Oh, um…” she starts, her eyes finally landing on Donnelly, her ears ringing, “Professor Cabot let me run through it with her a few times.”

Donnelly smirks, the others smile and Ridinour responds, “lucky you. She was quite the prosecutor in the DAs office.”

“You’ve got a great mentor, kid” Schreiber comments, patting her shoulder as he walks past her. Ridinour and Petrovsky follow, praising her as they leave.

Donnelly, the last to leave the room, places her hand on Casey’s shoulder and guides her out. Casey’s hands start to shake but she keeps them clasped around the handle of her small briefcase. “How are you feeling?” Donnelly probes.

Casey turns and scans her face as they walk down the empty hallway of the building. “Fine,” she responds cooly.

Donnelly stops them in the middle of the empty hallway, turning so they stand face to face. “Schreiber is right. Alex is a good person to have on your side,” Liz states. Alex’s name burns in Casey’s ears as she tries not to react.

She nods, “I agree.”

“Then listen to my advice, Casey,” Liz directs, her cool blue eyes burning through Casey’s as she continues. “Take the time you need to work through your aversions, but don’t let them keep you from being happy.” She nods, smiling softly, then pats Casey’s shoulder before walking down the hallway.

----------

That night, Casey met Charlie at his apartment to get ready. Charlie encouraged her to wear something he deemed “professionally slutty.” He and Melinda went in on a birthday gift for Casey to wear to her first mock trial. He believes an outfit should be worn once before to be sure it doesn’t need any alterations, and this is a more than appropriate opportunity. The outfit is a deep toned maroon linen pants suit, made to be worn with dark heels and a cream colored blouse. To compliment her color palette, Charlie dons a cream colored suit with a red dress shirt and dark colored loafers. When they come out of their opposing rooms to show each other, they both gasp loudly. Charlie claims that Alex will be swooning at the sight of Casey’s suit, especially since he, too, is swooning. Before leaving the apartment, Charlie encourages Casey to indulge in some pregame drinks, which include a few of her favorite shots and shotgunning a couple of beers. Satisfied with his friend’s buzz, Charlie allows them to leave.

At the party, held in a ballroom on campus, the room is decorated with red, white, and gold streamers, flecks of green glitter and decorative poufs everywhere. Along one of the back walls is a long table with an arrangement of finger foods for students and faculty alike to pick off of. In the back corner of the same wall is a bar where guests can have wine and beer for free or purchase mixed drinks of their choice. Casey drags Charlie over to the bar promptly, as her mind is already beginning to buzz in anticipation of Alex’s conversation. While in line, Casey impulsively encourages Charlie to drink with her. He concedes, always happy to have a good time and willing to solve the issue of getting home when the time comes.

They start mingling with their peers, going back for drinks as soon as they finish the ones in their hands. Despite Charlie’s advice, Casey neglects to enjoy the finger food, preferring to drink until she is no longer concerned about Alex. As they try to enjoy their time, Casey can’t help but keep her head on a swivel, searching for Alex in the crowd. Every now and then, Charlie would tease her for it and she would deny it all. Nearing the end of the night, Casey still hasn’t seen Alex and is beginning to feel discouraged. With this unexpected emotion, she begins to request stronger drinks, and finally begins picking at the remaining finger food.

She, Charlie and a couple of their friends linger near the food, picking off of trays any time they feel the need. Suddenly, when Casey has the last of a pig-in-a-blanket stuffed in her cheeks and a dessert between her fingertips, Alex taps her shoulder. She nearly chokes and turns, her head spinning as she does so. Charlie, who is standing next to her, turns and his eyes widen.

“Hi, Alexandra,” Charlie states as Casey whips around to see her.

Alex smiles, her eyes glaring at Charlie, “Hi, Charlie. I’m glad you came to the faculty hosted party,” she quips.

He clears his throat, acknowledging his error, “happy to make it Professor Cabot.”

She smiles, softening her eyes at him and looking down at Casey who appears queasy against the table. “Casey,” she greets, smiling deviously.

Their friends took the hint, stumbling away. Charlie taps Casey’s shoulder before he departs, “good luck, babe,” he whispers.

She responds with a disgruntled ‘hmph,’ before Alex moves closer. Alex slips her hand behind Casey’s back, their physical exchange hidden from the crowd. “Have you been enjoying yourself?” Alex inquires, glancing over her shoulder to study Casey’s features.

Casey turns towards Alex, finally taking a moment to observe her appearance. Alex, wanting to draw attention from her eyes, chose to wear a sleek black dress. The piece goes past her legs, the sleeves flow along her arms, and is topped off with a tight turtleneck feature. Her mind swimming with impulse, Casey doesn’t stop herself when she starts to think about leaving hickeys beneath the turtleneck. She also doesn’t know to stop herself when Alex smirks upon finding her staring at her throat.

“Casey,” Alex says a little louder, her fingertips pressing harder into Casey’s back.

Casey’s eyes seem to awaken as she looks up at the blonde with a dumb smile on her face. “Yes?”

Alex giggles, “have you been enjoying yourself?” She repeats.

Casey nods, “mhmm,” she murmurs. She looks back down, her eyes tracing Alex’s dress. She pauses at her chest and hips, the dress appearing much tighter than she had initially perceived.

Alex watches as the younger woman scans her with a hungry gaze, grinning at her. “How much have you had to drink, Casey?” The scent of liquor radiates off of Casey’s clothing, her face scarlet red and clammy, her eyes a faint shade of red.

Casey slowly pulls her gaze up to meet Alex’s, “not much,” she claims.

Alex smiles and leans into Casey’s ear, “Are you sure about that, darling?”

Casey whimpers, leaning her ear into Alex’s hot breath. “No…” she whispers.

Alex turns away from her, and Casey does the same. Now, both facing the crowd, they survey the remaining guests of the evening. No one seemed to pay them much attention, which relieves them both. Alex walks her fingertips further around Casey’s back, sneaking her way around her waist. Alex keeps her head forward as she speaks to Casey, “do you want to talk about what happened?”

Casey giggles, her eyes swimming as she tries to study the people in front of her. “Talk about it?” She slurs.

Alex nods, glancing over her shoulder, “Yes, do you?” She repeats.

Casey looks over her shoulder, eyes catching Alex’s for a second, before they lower and linger along Alex’s lips. Her own lips begin to burn with impulse, craving Alex’s on top of them. “Not talk,” she says at first. Alex narrows her gaze as if to question Casey further. Casey, seeming to just be pondering her next words, continues. “Can we feel out the problem?”

At first, Alex remains confused, but when Casey licks her lips she recognizes Casey’s attempt to insinuate an alternative to talking. Alex runs her tongue over her bottom lip and grins, turning away when her cheeks start to burn. She takes a deep breath, unsure whether she should maintain her impulse control or follow through with Casey’s suggestion. She slips her hand from Casey’s waist, shocking her out of her haze. She stands in front of Casey and reaches out to take her hand. Once in her grasp, she cautiously leads her away from the crowd. In a more secluded corner, one far from any watchful eyes, Alex presses herself against the wall. Casey, stumbling towards her, smiles wide as Alex guides her hands to her hips. With Casey’s warm fingertips against her, she cups her elbows, bringing her closer.

Casey gazes into Alex’s eyes beneath her, stars in her own as she leans in to Alex. “This suit looks stunning on you,” Alex whispers into Casey’s ear, her tone deep and alluring.

Shivers run down Casey’s spine and she bites her lip, feeling the blood rush to her head. “You know what would make it look better?”

Casey lets her fingertips slide further onto Alex’s hips, gripping them and holding her against the wall. Alex feels heat spread between her legs and in her hips as she watches Casey’s hungry eyes turning into starving orbs. “What?” Alex giggles out at Casey’s dumb smile.

Casey stumbles forward, pressing her lips against Alex’s ear. “If it was on your bedroom floor,” she slurs out with a sigh, trying her best to kiss her way down Alex’s neck.

For a second, Alex allows herself to lean her head back and let a low groan seep from her throat. As Casey gets closer, the scent of alcohol returns, piercing Alex’s nose and making her nauseous. She gently pushes Casey off of her, smiling brightly as she cups Casey’s cheek in reassurance.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she responds, looking Casey up and down. As she scans, she sees that Casey’s face is bright red, her skin clammy, and she’s wobbly on her feet. Alex determines then that they can’t proceed, as Casey clearly cannot consent. She strokes Casey’s cheek as she carefully peels Casey’s hands from her hips, standing straight as she assumes the dominant position. “How about we get you some water and you come home with me? How does that sound, Case?” Alex suggests, her tone sweet and concerned.

Casey smiles, nodding quickly as her hands cup Alex’s face and she sways. “I like going home with you,” she mumbles. Alex, trying to remain composed, puts her hands on Casey’s shoulders and guides her away from the corner, towards the exit. With Casey turned towards the exit, Alex puts one hand around her waist and the other on her bicep, trying to guide the stumbling woman towards the cold air of December.

Casey suddenly halts before reaching the door, causing Alex to nearly fall to the ground. “Waitwaitwait, Alex,” Casey blurts, her words tumbling out.

“Yes?” Alex asks.

“What about Charlie? Hewassonice, he droveme here,” Alex struggles to understand the last of Casey’s words, but realizes what she means, recalling that she’d stated Charlie was going to be taking her to this event.

Alex takes a deep breath, “okay, let’s get you settled and I’ll go find him. Okay?” Casey mumbles some form of response and allows Alex to guide her back into the crowded room. Alex surveys the room, searching for a trustworthy face. Finally, her eyes land on Liz, who spots her as well. She waves her over and Liz saunters to them, her pants suit sleek and dark, complimenting her light hair.

When she arrives at the couple, she glances at Casey before Alex, tilting her head curiously. “Are you helping her to a cab, professor?” Liz asks discreetly.

“Not quite yet, could you watch her for a moment? She’s had a lot more to drink than I thought and she asked me to make sure her friend is okay.”

Liz nods, taking Casey’s hand and guiding her to a secluded table nearby, hoping to keep her calm and talking. “Which friend?”

Alex helps Casey to sit at the table, Liz taking the seat across from her and greeting herself. Alex leans down to Casey, pushing her hair behind her ear, “I’m going to get you some water first, okay?” She informs her. Casey smiles lovingly and nods. Alex turns to Liz, “Charlie Hammons, have you seen him?”

Liz nods and turns her head, looking past Alex at the door behind her, “there he is.” Alex thanks her, turning to the non-alcoholic drink dispensers next to the food tables. She retrieves water for Casey, as promised, and delivers it before disappearing to take care of Charlie. Meanwhile, Liz takes the opportunity to distract Casey. She inquires about what courses she’ll be taking in the spring and where she’s applied to for jobs, and when those inquiries no longer contained her, she questioned her about how her finals went. This lead to Casey openly venting about her issues with Professor Taft, causing Liz to belly laugh and follow up with concurring comments about his teaching skills.

Finally, Alex returns, slightly disheveled as she’d struggled to get Charlie into the cab. She made sure to speak with the driver, paying in advance for Charlie’s ride and giving her extra on the condition she ensures he makes it safely up to his floor. Fortunately, Charlie had not been as bad off as Casey appeared to be, though he was much more energetic as he tried to question Alex about her situation with Casey. She skillfully dodged the questions and made her way back inside to her young lover.

When she arrives at the table, Liz sees her first, glancing past Casey. Casey recognizes this and turns around, nearly falling from her chair. Alex smiles back when she sees Casey turned around, grinning excitedly at her. As she approaches, she puts her hand on Casey’s back, looking up at Liz and mouthing a ‘thank you.’ Liz nods and Casey turns around, extending a limp hand.

Liz smiles, choking back a chuckle as she takes Casey’s hand and shakes it. “Thankyoufor talking to me,” she offers, her words running together as though she was attempting to say them as quickly as possible.

“Of course, Novak. Be safe, please.”

Casey stands, her hand immediately going to Alex’s waist. “We’ll use protection, I promise,” Casey states. The clearest sentence she’d uttered to Liz the whole evening. Alex’s face burns and she takes Casey’s arms, rushing her out of the building. Casey giggles the whole way, and they turn contagious the closer they get to Alex’s car.

Their drive to Alex’s apartment is a short one, but not uninteresting by any means. Casey started to feel restless: tapping on the center console, singing along poorly with whatever was on the radio, making any noise that came to mind, and begging to bite Alex’s arm. Alex was unbothered by the whole ordeal, more intrigued by her behavior than anything. She rested her hand on Casey’s thigh, only retracting it whenever Casey asked to bite it. She didn’t concede until they arrived in her apartment’s parking garage, and immediately regretted it as she left a deep bite mark in her forearm.

The elevator ride up to Alex’s apartment was intriguing as well. They were not the only ones on the ride up, unfortunately. But that did not stop Casey from wrapping her arm around Alex’s waist, her hand drifting down to touch her ass. Alex smacked her hand away the first couple of times but refrained after the fact, deciding she enjoyed the attention. On Alex’s floor, Casey followed close like an excited puppy, looking over Alex’s shoulder any chance she had and touching her more than that.

Inside the apartment, Casey went straight to Alex’s bedroom. Toby excitedly emerged from his hiding place and followed her, trotting along. Alex rolled her eyes, locking the door behind her and going to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and aspirin for Casey to take. Having gathered them, she made her way to her bedroom to find Casey laying on the floor, on her side as she pet Toby’s long fur.

Upon seeing Alex, Casey groans as she tries to rise up from the floor. Alex walks up to her and bends her knees, lowering down to hand her the glass and aspirin. She coaches Casey as she takes them, giving her the glass and asking her to finish it. When she does, Casey stares up at Alex with stars in her eyes and butterflies (or maybe it’s the alcohol) in her stomach. “You’re so beautiful…” She whispers to Alex, a dumb smile on her face.

Alex grins, “thank you,” she responds as she stands to put away the glass. This time when she returns to her room, Casey is vertical and stuck trying to take off her dress shirt.

Alex sighs, approaching her with caution. She places her hands on Casey’s hips, eliciting a yelp from the drunk woman. “Hold still, let me help you,” Alex instructs. Casey does as she’s told and Alex pulls her arms down, returning the shirt back to its normal position. She starts unbuttoning it for Casey, pulling it off of her shoulders, revealing a soft white bra beneath. Alex swallows as she tries not to stare at her breasts, taking Casey’s shirt and folding it, draping it on her arm. Casey, with her now free arms, reaches and takes Alex’s face in her palms. She tilts Alex’s head upward and pulls their lips together clumsily.

A surprise yelp comes from Alex as she kisses her back apprehensively. She holds Casey’s hand to her face and then gently pulls apart, her smile subsiding. Casey whines, trying to pull them back together, but Alex holds her ground. “Casey, no,” Alex tells her.

Casey looks at her with wide, sad eyes, tears starting to build up in them. “Why not?” She mumbles, the alcohol ever present on her breath.

Alex gives her a sympathetic look, “Because you’re drunk…As much as we both want it, you can’t consent. Okay?”

Casey turns and flops onto the bed, screaming into the comforter. Alex chuffs and moves to sit next to her, rubbing her back gently. Under Alex’s fingertips, Casey’s skin is warm and soft to the touch. Casey rolls over onto her back, eyes filled with tears, a couple making their way down her cheeks. Alex looks at her pitifully, “What’s wrong, Case?”

Casey, on the verge of sobbing, croaks out a response, “I’m frustrated.” She sniffles, wiping her eyes with her fingers.

Alex turns towards her, pulling her legs onto the bed. “What are you frustrated about?” Alex asks her, brushing the hair from Casey’s cheek and then stroking it softly with the back of her fingers.

Casey takes big breaths, her chest heaving like a toddler about to have a tantrum. “I want you so bad,” she cries.

Alex smiles, her cheeks blushing, and she takes a deep breath, looking away from Casey to keep herself from crying in frustration. “I’m sorry, baby,” the term rolls off of her tongue with ease and without hesitation.

Casey rolls onto her side and puts her hand on Alex’s knee, squeezing to stimulate herself as more tears fall. “Why can’t I have you?”

Alex sighs as a smile spreads past her cheeks, “You can have me,” she whispers as she looks down into Casey’s tearful eyes. “We’re going to talk about it tomorrow. When you’ve sobered up, alright?” She nods, suggesting that Casey agree.

Casey lifts her torso from the bed and scoots closer to Alex. Alex adjusts herself to a more comfortable position, relaxing against the pillows and stretching her legs, the tight dress loosening. Casey’s eyes twinkle as she meets Alex’s gaze. “Really?” Disbelief and relief were apparent in her voice.

Alex nods, her smile softening as she watches the weight fall off of Casey’s shoulders. Casey takes a deep breath crawling up to Alex, her frame still wobbly as her vision swims. Not making it far, she collapses on Alex’s lap, resting her head there and slowly moving her body to the side. Alex accepts that she won’t be moving for some time and starts playing with Casey’s hair, brushing it behind her ear and running her fingers through the red strands. Eventually, Casey’s breaths become even and her mind quiet.

#casey novak #alex cabot #alexandra cabot #calex #casey novak x alex cabot #alex cabot x casey novak #professor au #Mock trial #law and order svu #svu #law and order svu fanfiction #svu fanfiction #elizabeth donnelly

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