#svu drabble

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Can You Stay?

Olivia Benson x fem!reader

Warnings: sexual assault/rape (not graphic or anything, this takes place after the fact), trauma, hospitals, rape kit, established relationship, hurt/comfort, some explicit language, brief mentions of self-harm

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: You're assaulted by a man the SVU just can't seem to convict. Olivia is used to victims, she's used to the aftermath of a rape. She's not used to walking through it with someone she loves as much as you.

“Let me see her!” Olivia yelled, shoving Fin so hard he slammed into a wall.

“Liv, you can’t be here as a cop,” Elliot argued, holding her back.

Olivia ran her hands through her hair, angry beyond reason and worried out of her mind. “I’m not, Elliot! I’m here because my girlfriend got raped. Now get the fuck out of my way so I can take care of her!”

Elliot lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, just… you gotta let us do our job, okay?”

Olivia shoved past him and into your apartment, desperate to find you, to see you, to hold you and protect you. When she found you, shaking and huddled in a corner of your bedroom, it shattered her, but she didn’t feel sad, not yet. That would come soon, she knew. What she felt now was blinding, white hot anger at the man who’d done this to you.

You were so traumatized you didn’t even seem to notice her. Your eyes were glazed over, and you rocked back and forth, your head banging lightly into the wall each time. Munch sat on a corner of your bed, and Olivia looked at him, silently asking if you’d said anything yet. John shook his head. So it had just been the 9-1-1 call so far then.

Olivia lowered herself onto the floor next to you, careful not to touch you, to frighten you. Your hair was dripping wet, and the water had blotched your t-shirt. Her stomach sank. It was him again–Cleary–she just knew it.

“Sweetheart,” she started, her voice soft, looking into your blurry eyes. “It’s just me.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but your eyes filled with tears, and you started banging your head against the wall with more force.

Olivia placed her hand between your head and the wall to soften the blows. You wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to hurt so much that you forgot what had come before. But you couldn’t bear to hurt Olivia. You put your head in your hands instead and when you finally spoke, your voice was small and hoarse.

“I can’t stop shaking.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed, still not touching you. She’d let you initiate touch if you wanted to. “That’s normal. You’re in shock, okay, baby? It’ll pass.”

“He came in my window, Liv,” you stuttered, unable to breathe deeply enough, your fingers tingling with the lack of oxygen. “He came in my window. I thought it was locked. It– it sh– should have– been l–locked.”

You scrunched your eyes shut and shrunk into Olivia, her arms wrapping firmly and protectively around you as you buried your face in her neck and gasped for breath. She rubbed your back, resting her chin on the top of your head.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Just breathe, baby, breathe.”

Elliot entered the room and sat on the bed with John. Olivia met his eyes, and she saw that he hated to do this. They were always aware of the ways in which an investigation might come off as insensitive to the victim. In fact, they did everything they could to be kind and empathetic and caring. But it had never been clearer than it was now that questions and probing, while necessary, would likely only make your horrific night worse. 

You coughed, trying to desperately get enough air, the room swirling around you. You tried, you tried so hard to fight the darkening edges of your consciousness, but you couldn’t breathe. The last thing you remembered before blacking out was grabbing onto Olivia’s jacket.

“Shit,” Olivia muttered, as your body fell limp against her. “El–”

“On it,” he said, pulling out his radio and walking to the living room. “Yeah, we need a bus at Mott and Spring. Unconscious female. Rape victim, panic attack.”

Olivia laid you gently on the ground, brushing your hair out of your face and placing her fingers on your neck to ensure you had a pulse. It was hard to pass out from a panic attack–which showed just how scared you were. She sighed and watched you, holding back tears, as she brushed her thumbs back and forth across your wrist. She wanted to feel your heartbeat. Just to be safe.

“You okay?” John asked her.

Olivia shook her head, biting her lip. “No.” She smiled wryly, her eyes wet. “But I am dangerously close to committing a felony.”

“We’ll get him, Liv,” John assured her.

“We haven’t yet.”

“We will.”

When you jerked awake, gasping, your heart still racing, Olivia squeezed your hands and bent down close to you. “Hey,” she soothed. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m right here. Just keep breathing.”

She lifted your head onto her lap and you curled into yourself, your hand gripping tightly to hers. When the paramedics came, you shrank away from them and into Olivia, who might very well have assaulted an EMT to keep anyone from touching you and further traumatizing you.

“Can you walk?” she asked, and you nodded. “I got her,” she said forcefully to the paramedic who reached out for your arm.

Olivia walked you out of the room, out of your apartment, down the elevator, and into the back of the ambulance. She never once let you go, never once removed her arm from around your shoulder, glaring bullets at anyone who even came close to you.

Rape kits were always hard, no matter who the victim was, but it was excruciatingly hard now that it was you. Olivia almost couldn’t look at you as you talked the doctor at the ER through your assault. She wanted to cry, she wanted to shoot something, she wanted to hold you and never let you go. She would do anything, anything, to go back in time and have you stay at her place instead. Or, even better, to have been at yours so she could have shot the son of a bitch in self-defense. She didn’t know if she’d ever forgive herself for not being there.

You cried when they swabbed you, your body tensing in panic, hand squeezing Olivia’s so hard that little half moons formed on her skin under your nails. Olivia looked at the ceiling, willing herself not to cry. She felt like her heart was being fed through a shredder. It hurt more than anything, hurt so bad she was nearly bent over with it, to watch you cry. To watch your body flinch away from touch and comfort. To watch you poked and prodded and examined under the harsh fluorescent lights, the smell of alcohol sterilizer permeating everything, when you had already been through so much.

When they finally discharged you, Olivia pulled your softest, most oversized t-shirt and sweatpants out of her bag. She’d brought them from your apartment, knowing that they’d take your clothes for evidence. She dressed you gently, carefully, your eyes bloodshot, face streaked and puffy from tears.

She had Elliot drive you both to her apartment in a squad car, knowing you wouldn’t want to see anyone else, that you wouldn't be able to stomach a cab or the subway.

In the apartment, you sat on the edge of her bed, face blank, terrified to go to sleep. You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t speak. It was as if, after telling what had happened, your voice had switched off.

Olivia brushed your hair out of your face, bending down to look into your eyes.

“Do you think you can try to sleep, sweetheart?”

You nodded, exhaustion hitting you hard as the hours of adrenaline started to wear off. You crawled into bed, and Olivia pulled the covers over you. You struggled to keep your eyelids open, and Olivia gently kissed your forehead.

“Go to sleep, baby,” she whispered. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”

You grabbed her hand as she stood to leave, turning off the light.

“Can you stay?” you whimpered, tears welling up again, no matter how hard you tried to fight them.

Olivia wordlessly lifted the covers and pulled your body into hers, and you breathed easy for the first time in hours. Her arms were strong around you, her heartbeat sure and steady, hands soft as they ran through your hair. And you knew, you knew, that she would keep you safe.

[altsvu]

Congrats on the followers!

🧞Barba + 53 from the smut prompt list (re: tattoo) please & thanks! 💜

tattoo ridden

pairing: rafael barba x fem!reader

prompt used: “Is that a tattoo?” from the 100 smut prompt list!

wc: 700

summary: your first time having sex with rafael is a magical one, and when he notices a fairly interesting tattoo on your body, it’s almost like he went feral.

cw: dirty talk, smut (oral, teasing)

a/n: anything smutty with rafael is like the best, so thank you so much for sending this in lovely, i’m so sorry it took so long for me to write it! 🥲

law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

Rafael wasted no time getting intimate with you. It was literally out the car, out the clothes, and in the bed.

A year back, you and Rafael got together, but you wanted to take things slow, and he agreed.

But now, you felt ready.

It was another long day at the precinct, for you at least. It had gotten to the point where Liv even told you to go home. You liked to get ahead of things because you knew you would dread drowning in paperwork after the fact.

This particular night, however, was a different story for Rafael. He wanted to surprise you. It was you and his’s 1 year anniversary and he wanted to make the day special as can be.

You didn’t forget about your anniversary, you had gotten him a gift, you just didn’t have the time to go drop it off at his office.

So there you were sitting at your desk filling out paperwork when a very familiar figure appeared in your sight. You quickly found out that it was Rafael.

“Rafa.” You smiled, getting up from your desk.

“Hi baby.” Rafael smiled back, pulling you into a hug. “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary.”

Rafael planted kisses on your lips. You then went back to your desk, and Rafael followed suit, pulling up a chair to sit next to you.

“Paperwork again?”

You nodded. “You know how I am Rafa.”

“I’m staying here until you finish. I wanna take you home tonight.” Rafael said, reaching over to stroke your thigh.

You smirked, knowing what he meant.

“Duly noted, Counselor.”

✯✯✯✯

Rafael finally got you home. Beforehand, you gave him your gift, which was a watch he’d been eyeing for months. He was ecstatic when he opened the box. After, he pulled out his gift, which was a matching gold necklace and bracelet set. He took the liberty of putting them on you.

Out the car.

Out the clothes.

In the bed.

“I know we talked about it, but are you sure about this? About everything?”

“Yes, Rafa.” You responded, helping him out of his suit. The only suit you wanted him in was his birthday suit.

“Okay.” He smiled.

With that, the two of you wasted no more time getting in the bed and each other naked. Clearly the second step was ignored.

Rafael loved your body and he wanted to admire it all night long. When he touched your naked body for the first time ever, you felt chills running throughout your body and you didn’t want him to stop. His hands felt so nice against your skin. In this moment, his hands were creeping up to your boobs and something special resided in that region.

Your infamous side boob tattoo.

To be quite honest, it was a simple flower, but it was your favorite tattoo.

Rafael’s hand reached it and the chills stopped for a moment.

“Is that a tattoo?”

“Yes.”

The room light was on, so Rafael was able to take a peek under the covers to look at it.

“It’s beautiful.” He whispered, starting to suck on your nipples. He kissed all around the area, as well as the tattoo, and that made you so much more aroused.

He was good with his mouth. So when he finished with your boobs and went to your pussy without a warning, you knew you were going to fold instantly. He made you feel good, and that’s all that mattered in this moment. His lips touched your clit and he sucked on it softly to get you started. He started using his tongue in all the right places, and pushed a finger inside. His intentions were to get you to come for him.

Hard.

“Rafa” escaped your lips numerous times while he was doing this.

“I love when you say my name like that, Y/N. It’s so hot.” Rafael mumbled against your thighs. He got up and leveled with you, and pushed his fingers inside you again, all while he planted kisses on your lips and chest.

The next thing you knew, he was inside you, and it felt amazing. He felt amazing.

It was a good thing the two of you waited.

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu @averyhotchner @ssaic-jareau @detective-giggles @lapaquerette @itsjustmyfantasyroom

[idontplaytrack]

Sick

Olivia Benson x college student daughter! reader

Warnings: implied sexual assault, coarse language. your typical SVU case discussion scenes.

Reader becomes an SVU case. Olivia gets the shock of her life seeing you walk into the precinct, teary eyed and bruised all over.

It was two a.m., the smell of the precinct’s cheap coffee hung around the air as the squad was in a heated discussion of their leads for a current case. Everybody was a little annoyed due to the lack of sleep, Liv included. Especially Liv— she was in charge. Fighting the sleep and taking another gulp of the black coffee, her ears perked up when she heard footsteps approaching herself and her squad. Her eyes briefly out of focus due to tiredness but quickly came into focus. She squints, her heart sank to the floor when she realised who it was. It was you. In tears, bruised jaw, bleeding cheek. She rushes over to you, asking you what happened.

She knew you weren’t supposed to be home from college until the day after. So you must’ve came back early. You disclosed the attack to your Mother, who then accompanied you to the hospital for an examination. She sat by your side as you laid on the exam table, feeling more vulnerable and in pain than ever as the doctor began asking you questions, swabbing, poking and prodding you. Each action sent a knife through Liv’s heart— she lets you squeeze her hand to divert away the inescapable pain, your cries made her want to double over and burst into tears, but she stayed strong for you. After a few hours, you were finally back home— the sun was rising, signalling the start of a new day but the adrenaline…it was wearing off and you were hit with exhaustion like a ton of bricks. The squad — Kat and Fin wanted to talk to you but Olivia refused to let them, wanting you to get some sleep first.

Olivia pulled the blinds down then sat in your bed with you, “You wanna get some sleep, honey?”

“Will you stay with me?” You asked meekly.

“Of course, sweet girl. I’ll be right here. Okay? Lay down, close your eyes.” And so you did, snuggling under the covers with Olivia sat in the spot beside you holding your hand.

At noon, Fin came by the apartment with Kat. They needed to talk to you, you knew you needed to tell them everything you know, but you were still feeling like a mess. Your heart still felt like it was racing, you constantly felt like someone was watching you...

They were patient with you, maybe more so than they would any other victim, but you appreciated it nonetheless. You recounted your night, letting them know where you were, who you were with and what you were doing. What you saw, what you heard and even smelt were just as crucial.Your Mom left the room hearing you talk about all that went down, and that was when you spotted a blonde in the doorway consoling her- Rollins.

When they were done with their questions, the promptly left you alone knowing you needed the space and peace. They went back to the precinct and your Mom walks back in with Rollins who came by to see you.

————

"This happened late at night the guy followed her from a bar to the subway. She tried to lose him but he kept following her. She was on her way to the precinct anyway because she knew Liv was working late and wanted to keep her company." Fin began, "Rape kit came back positive for fluids with a match to two cases in other SVUs."

"What bar was she at?" Carisi asks, looking through the file.

"A gay bar."

"Just like in these two cases. The perp did the exact same thing, only this time- they left us DNA.”

Carisi squints, taking a closer look at the information, “Our perp is a woman.”

That evening, Olivia returned to work after you persuaded her to. “We know who it is. The victims on the first two cases refused to testify.”

“One of them responded to us— she wants to testify now. And her case is still within the statute of limitations.” Carisi informs.

“Good, let’s nail this sick bitch.” Olivia declared, “y/n told me she’d testify too if that’s what it takes.”

“Hell yes. Attagirl.” Fin nodded, “We’ll get her, Liv. I promise.”

Olivia scoffs, “Fin- I appreciate it, but don’t speak too soon.”

“We will.”

[fbfh]

Hey! Could you please do some headcannons of cuddling with Jay from descendants?

Thank you!

oh fuck yes baby boy NEEDS a snuggle so fuckin bad. Jay is SO motherfucking - his full name is Janasheen Lagmani Mufti btw (successor, born at nightfall, one who gives council or legal advice) - Jay is SO motherfuckin touch starved that he'll get injured on purpose just so he can feel you touch him up. After a while you start to catch onto this because you don't have the heart to tell him he's not quite as slick as he thinks he is. So OBVIOUSLY I have a medieval game OBVIOUSLY I have a jousting game the only way you're gonna get him to turn into your snuggly lil bunbun (yes he does insist you call him that after you say it once as a joke and he loses his mind) is to make him think YOU'RE really the one who needs cuddles. like of course you're feeling kinda sad and tired from all your schoolwork so of COURSE you need a big strong tough cool guy star of the tourney team to make you feel all safe and cozy. obviously it's TOTALLY for your benefit. not at all because Jay was not hugged once as a child! that's hilarious and true and totally not the reason at all! I just washed my hands that's why they're wet! no other reason!

but yeah once you actually start cuddling with him it's going to take approximately less that six seconds for him to become a total and complete velcro boyfriend. it takes longer to watch any vine in existance than it does for Jay to latch onto you like a small baby bird. he did not know that touchy feely stuff could be so... nice. especially when it's with you. he tried giving Carlos and Evie and Mal bear hugs between classes when he's away from you and it was good, but it wasn't the same. Maybe it's because Carlos still thinks he's going to get suplexed whenever Jay grabs him like that or maybe it's because Mal keeps asking if he huffed her spraypaint and that's why he's so huggy out of nowhere (Evie doesn't mind too much as long as he doesn't wrinkle her outfits or mess with her hair and makeup. she actually approves of you two and likes that you're bringing out Jay's more affectionate side. she makes a mental note to give you the friends and family discount on any future designs you order from her.) but shortly after that first time you snuggled up with Jay and had him tell you all about the video games he's been playing and about tourney practice he's full on addicted to your touch and cuddles. Coach sometimes has to pull you off your extra curriculars to give Jay hugs and kisses during practice when he cops an attitude or gets too rowdy. you're known as the Jay whisperer immediately and believe me the nickname sticks. Carlos asks what the hype is once and you give him head scratches and he understands.

[danny-pino-group-therapy]

Gingerbread House

A/N: It’s a Hoe Ho Ho Holiday gift from me to you all for supplying me with endless Danny Pino fantasies! Sorry about my crappy musings.

It was Christmas Eve and Maria had Zara for the night, so Nick was a bit down not having Zara here to see her face light up on Christmas morning and have all the fun they used to on Christmas Eve. You had thought and thought all week about just what you could do to bring Nick out of his funk and had decided upon a Gingerbread House kit. It had all the items you two would need, including candy decorations and the icing to put it together.

It had done the trick and while working on the kit you both had laughed and “argued” about how much icing to put and how long to hold it together to set it and then how to decorate it. Most the way through you started sucking on the icing bag knowing you’d not need it all to finish and having always enjoyed a little icing. It was a guilty pleasure! Who could blame you?

Nick looked up catching you and shook his head. “We still need that you know?” He laughed.

“Nah, I think it’s pretty the way it is.” You shrugged and sucked on the icing bag more, keeping eye contact on Nick wanting to be a brat.

Well it was when you got too greedy and started squeezing the bag a bit too hard, it burst at the seam by the piping tip and icing spurt out onto the corner of your mouth making you gasp in surprise and laughed.

Nick cut his eyes to you again, his mind going places other than innocent holiday fun. Seeing the icing clinging and dripping from the corner of your mouth as you went to get a wet paper towel. He stopped you with a gentle grasp on your upper arm and took his finger swiping the sweet sticky goop away before putting his finger to your mouth.

You raised a brow and smirked parting your lips and sucking his digit clean of the icing slowly. You let out a low moan of pleasure and closed your eyes knowing it was probably cheesy as hell but that was what worked for you and Nick. Cheesy. Romantic and passionate but funny and cheesy. A beautiful pairing.

Nick smiled and pulled his finger away, pulling you closer now and whispering in your ear. “How about we ditch this project and you come suck on another piping bag?”

At that you laughed but couldn’t help but feel turned on at the thought of Nick heavy and hot in your mouth, a total opposite of what was just in there.

“I’d love nothing more. But, please let me have all your icing? I don’t want to waste.” You replied in a sultry tone before being taken off guard and squealing in surprise and Nick threw you over his shoulder swatting your ass on the way back to the bedroom.

Tagging: @irishavengersassemble @burningtacozombie @darqchilddaydreamz @itsjustmyfantasyroom

[storiesofsvu]

Happy new year ❤️

So… do you still write for Alex Cabot? 🫣

If you do, would you mind if I send a request using the 100 smut dialogue prompt?

100) "Call me selfish, but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

Alex Cabot x fem!reader warnings: language, alcohol, mildly jealous alex, some smut. just a little drabble.

You’d invited Alex to join you and your friends tonight, but knowing just how much work she had to do, she politely declined but said she would meet you in a few hours to walk home with you. So you went out and had a great time with your friends, catching up on how times had changed, who was seeing someone new, basically any kind of gossip you could get your hands on. As any girl’s night out, the laughter and bright conversation had caught the eye of a group of guys who were out doing the same thing but also trying to hook up. While none of you were interested in that, you were interested in getting free drinks even if you had to flirt your way into them.

The guy who seemed to be most interested in you was James, and honestly, he wasn’t that bad. It was as if he caught on that it was kind of an act, that he wasn’t going to get anything out of you, especially when you bought a round of shots for the two of you. But he kept great conversation, told actually funny jokes and was decent company for the meantime. What you weren’t aware of was that Alex had entered the bar, lingering across the room as her eyes narrowed in your direction. She knew there was no threat, but she still felt something she didn’t like when his hand lingered on your forearm. She watched as he got a phone call, apologizing to you, saying what looked like goodnight and slipped out of the bar, then she picked up her phone and sent you a text. She watched again, a grin on her lips as you slid open the message, your brow furrowing before you glanced up around the bar, finally finding her across the room and making your way to her.

“Stalker much?” You greeted with a tease and she rolled her eyes.

“Would have hated to interrupt that.” She gestured towards where you’d been sitting and you laughed, leaning in to kiss her gently.

“Oh please. You would’ve loved putting him in his place.”

"Call me selfish, but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you." She murmured, her lips ghosting over yours as her hand wrapped around the back of your neck, tangling into your hair to pull you impossibly close.

“Yeah? And why is that?” You cocked a brow and she shot you a warning look.

“Because you know who you belong to.”

“You might have to remind me on that one…. I may have gotten distracted.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart.” Her lips finally met yours, lingering just long enough to get a taste of her that would leave you craving for the real thing before she pulled away, “by the time I’m done with you you won’t even remember your own name.”

________________

@mickey-gomez @detective-giggles @red1culous @beccabarba @bumblebear30 @enduringalexblake @momlifebehard @borg-queer @summergeezburr @alexxavicry @anya-casablanca @thatesqcrush @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @alcabots @7thavenger @disneyfan624

[pascalispretty]

Hi, how about some Sonny Carisi with the prompt 'tell me what you want' please?!?! Thankyou 💛

For you, anything! Explicit content below the cut: dirty talk, drinking, references to sex.

The music is too loud, the room is too hot, and Sonny Carisi is too far away from you. 

It’s not for lack of trying. He has you pressed against the doorframe as he kisses you, the hard wood digging into your back as he tries to get closer to you. His forearm rests against the doorjamb, supporting his weight and framing you with his body. 

In the other room, the party is showing no sign of slowing down. One of Sonny’s innumerable cousins is celebrating their engagement with what can only be described as a rager, now that the parents and grandparents have left. Booze is flowing freely, and you’re fairly certain Sonny is having to turn a blind eye to a decent amount of drugs, judging by the pupils of some of the guests. 

The two of you had stuck to booze and had only come into the kitchen in the first place to get a refill. Somehow that had translated into making out against the door that led to the garage, hoping that the refrigerator more or less hid you from the rest of the party. 

When Sonny’s free hand leaves your waist to slide beneath your shirt, you reluctantly break the kiss. 

“If you wanna do more than kiss, then we’re gonna have to relocate,” you manage, your eyelashes fluttering closed as Sonny trails burning-hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck. 

“It’s 2AM, and everyone is wasted. Nobody’s gonna notice where my hands are, doll,” he whispers against your neck, his breath against your skin making you shiver. Sonny lifts his head to try and kiss you again, and it feels like a huge demonstration of self-control on your part when you rest your hand against his chest and stop him. 

“Book us an Uber,” you tell him, hooking your finger into the open neck of the black button-down he’s wearing. “Take me home. I wanna do more than just make out in your cousin’s kitchen.” Sonny gives you an amused smirk, barely backing away from you as he takes his phone out of his pocket. 

“You do, do you?” He asks, his eyes flicking from your face to the phone as he books a car. You feel like you can’t catch your breath, the oppressive heat and noise of the party a few feet away nothing compared to the way Sonny is looking at you. “Seven minutes away,” he says after a moment, slipping the phone back into his jeans pocket. 

“What could we possibly do for seven minutes?” You ask coyly, and he responds by leaning back in, pressing his thigh between yours. The friction is shocking; all the blood in your body rushes south so quickly that your head spins. 

“I wanna hear more about what more you want to do,” Sonny whispers, the way his voice dips lower making you shiver. “C’mon, we’ve got seven minutes. Tell me what you want.” He ducks his head again to kiss and nip at your neck, and you’re not sure you’ll even last the seven minutes, let alone the time it’ll take to drive from here to Sonny’s apartment. 

“I want you,” you try, and you nearly faint when he chuckles into your neck. A laugh has no right to be that sexy. 

“I knew that already, doll. I wanna hear specifics. All the dirty things my baby wants to do.” 

“God, you’re so mouthy when you’re drunk. More than usual.” You tell him, anchoring your hands to his shoulders. It’s not a complaint; you love hearing him run his mouth. You swear you can feel him smile against the side of your neck before he presses another burning kiss to the delicate skin. Taking a shuddering breath in, you try to organise your thoughts. 

“I wish I wasn’t feeling so impatient. If I was in a more patient mood, I’d want you to eat me out.” You say, adding a dreamy sigh for effect. “You’re so good at it.” 

“Thank you, baby.” He still sounds amused, and it only increases your desire to turn the tables on him, even just a little. 

“Oh, ‘s true. But as much as I love that mouth of yours, I really just want your cock right now. I want you to bend me over something and fuck me until I can’t think,” you manage after a moment, gratified by the way Sonny’s hands jerk on your waist. “The table, the back of the sofa, I don’t care. On my hands and knees in your bed.” His tongue traces a line up your throat to the hinge of your jaw. “All- all I want to be able to think about is you inside me. You always make me feel so full, so close to you…”

“Is that all?” He asks as you slide one of your hands down from his shoulders to ghost over the crotch of his jeans. 

“Depending on how much we sober up on the ride home, I might even let you put it in my ass.” 

It’s almost comical, the way Sonny suddenly stands bolt-upright. 

“Let’s go wait outside for the car.” He says, grabbing your hand. “I wanna get you home as soon as possible.”

Taglist: @misscharlielulu, @avengersfan25

[yougotthat-write]

Oui(ji) Had One Hell of a Party (Rafael Barba x Reader)

Word Count: 2,758

Warnings: Ouiji board, spirits, demons, language, alcohol consumption, dumb costumes for all yo faves lmao 

Summary: You and Rafael host a Halloween party and it takes a demonic turn.

Author’s Note: This was started probably almost 3 years ago (big oof). I've lost the writing bug so I'm posting what was written and promptly unfinished, lol. Apologies but I still hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 here!

✶⭑✡⭑✶⭑✡⭑✶⭑✡⭑✶⭑✡⭑✶⭑✡⭑✶

Rafael Barba wouldn’t call himself a superstitious person.

He didn’t believe in ghouls, ghosts, and monsters in the typical way that small children would. He was an A.D.A. for Manhattan so he obviously came across fellow humans who did gruesome and unforgivable things, but when you had pulled out that stupid ten dollar Ouiji board that you had bought at the stupid Halloween store, Rafael may had sent a quick prayer up to whichever Lord was occupying the skies above him at that very moment. 

His Catholic upbringing was trying to pound its way out of him and it made him down the rest of his scotch in one swallow before stepping over to his bar area to pour himself another drink. The low hum of your Halloween playlist mixed with the chatter of Rafael’s friends from the courthouse and your friends from the 16th precinct.

You sat on your living room floor, hunched over your coffee table, setting up the toy that would allow you to talk to those who had passed on. Sonny shifted on his feet as he stood next to Rafael. Remembering that Sonny was raised very Catholic as well, Rafael figured that this was making Sonny feel stupid for being uncomfortable with a children’s toy just as much as him.

The sound of your hands connecting together in a singular clap made Rafael’s grip tighten around his glass. He looked over at you and saw the “spooky” smile you were trying to give to everyone. The party had died down in the past couple of hours. Olivia Benson and Nick Amaro had gone home because of their kids. Fin Tutuola had gone home because “Halloween is whack! I don’t even like candy.” The rest of the guests had filed out after them in the passing hours.

Now, Sonny Carisi, Amanda Rollins, Rita Calhoun, and Trevor Langan were scattered around the living room. Sonny was next to Rafael, both of the boys standing farthest away from the direct line to demons. Sonny started to get so nervous that his fake mustache for his Sonny Bono costume wouldn’t stick to his upper lip. His counterpart and designated Cher was Amanda. She sat on the floor on the opposite side of you at the coffee table. She held the planchette in her hand, looking at the object with a smirk. Her long brunette wig was tossed to the side next to her.

Rita Calhoun downed another orange Jell-O shot before falling back onto the couch behind Amanda with a sigh. She pulled her long and obnoxious Devil tail from under her and held it in her fingers as she watched you read the directions for the Ouija board. Her Devil horns were slightly crooked on her head but she didn’t seem to notice or care.

Trevor Langan had ditched his obnoxious black cape twenty minutes into the party. He ditched the phony plastic fangs even sooner. His hair was quaffed upwards and if it wasn’t for the dark liner around his eyes and the fake blood on the corner of his mouth, he would look like he was ready for a day at work with his dress shirt, black slacks, and polished shoes.

Rafael would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a bit authoritative in his twenty dollar policeman costume, but he mainly did it to see the annoyed reactions of the 16th precinct detectives. Fin Tutuola had quipped, “Your badge is so cute and tiny, Barba. You got a fake gun too?” Nick Amaro had rolled his eyes so hard at the fellow Latino man that you thought they would roll right out of his pretty little head. Despite you being a fellow 16th precinct detective, you happily supported your boyfriend with finding the policeman outfit that fit his body in all the right places.

Trevor had rolled his eyes when you suggested pulling out the Ouija board but didn’t outwardly object to it like Sonny had. Trevor made his way over to Rafael and Sonny, grabbing a deep red Jell-O shot. He shot it back and then chuckled at Sonny’s uneasy face. But Trevor didn’t miss the uneasiness that was coming from Rafael.

“Scared boys?” The defense lawyer asked with a grin. Sonny scowled over at Langan.

“Shut up,” Sonny muttered. Feeling hot, Sonny pulled the brunette wig off his head. “I just don’t think we should mess with Lucifer and his minions.” Sonny’s Adam apple bobbed. “If Ma finds out about this, she’ll have the church exorcize me.”

Trevor stifled his snort with his hand. “It’s a kids game, Carisi. The box says ages six and up.”

Sonny grumbled under his breath before making his way over to the couch and plopping down next to Rita with a sigh. Rita pouted over at the detective, reaching up and pinching his pink cheek. “Don’t worry Sonny, the Devil is already here and she’s feeling pretty tipsy.” Sonny let out a nervous laugh before leaning out of Rita’s grip and rubbing his sore cheek. 

Trevor’s attention was drawn back to the quiet prosecutor next to him. Rafael felt Trevor’s gaze as he lifted his newly poured drink to his lips.

One gulp. Two gulps. Three gulps.

Trevor leaned towards Rafael, “What are you so scared of Barba?” Rafael shot a look over to Trevor. 

“There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Exactly.” Trevor slapped a hand onto Rafael’s shoulder and pushed him over towards the coffee table. 

Looking up from the directions, you smiled at Rafael as he was ushered into the living room by Trevor. The pair of fake handcuffs that hung off Rafael’s belt jingled when Trevor’s large hands pushed Rafael down next to you. Rafael swore under his breath in Spanish to the man before Trevor went and perched himself onto the arm of the couch next to Sonny. 

“I think we have it set up,” you say over to your boyfriend. Rafael nods subtlety before catching the gaze of Amanda sitting across from him. She watched Rafael from under her lashes and the corner of her mouth twitched up. Looking more head on at the two of you, she slid the planchette onto the board.

The intricate piece of wood was shaped in a triangle with rounded edges. In the center, a small dome of glass made it easy to see whatever was under the planchette when it would be slid around the board. 

Rafael wouldn’t tell you — or anyone in the room for that matter — that he did not and would not touch that thing willingly. You grabbed the planchette and placed it in the middle of the board. The intricate letters and numbers were bold and taunting. Rafael swallowed the jumble of nerves trying to push their way up his throat.

He jumped slightly when you touched his arm to motion him to place his fingers next to yours. Taking a moment too long, Trevor cupped a hand around one corner of his mouth and boomed, “Scared of some ghosts, Barba?” Rafael shot another look over to Langan before you grabbed his hands.

Your hands brought comfort to him. They were warm as you guided his fingers over to the planchette and when you lightly knocked your shoulder into his, you whispered out, “Don’t be scared, hon. I’ll protect you,” your left eye dropped down into a wink and while Rafael rolled his own at your retort, it did make him more relaxed.

You motioned for Amanda to do the same. She reached out both of her pointer and middle fingers and found a spot on one of the planchette sides. Amanda spoke quietly, “What should we ask first?”

Carisi’s mouth twisted as he bit down on the inside of his cheek. Rita let out a loud hum, twirling the end of her tail in her hand. “Don’t you have to ask if there’s anyone here in the first place?”

“Yeah, let’s see what we’re cooking with,” Trevor jumped in. He was able to reach over to the side table to grab another Jello-O shot, passing one over the top of Carisi’s head over to Rita who grinned devilishly.

You let out a shaky breath — which threw off Rafael for a split second — and said, “Is there a spirit with us?” While a silence fell over the group, waiting for something, Sonny’s lips moved quickly and quietly as he mouthed a prayer. 

You spoke again, more firmly, “Is there anyone who would like to speak with us today?” Amanda’s eyes went from the planchette, to you, to Rafael, back to you, and then back to the planchette. Rafael’s fingers twitched on the planchette, wanting to bring them back close to him, to his body. Or even to intertwine with your own fingers.

Despite the mellow hum of your playlist, there was a long and still silence between everyone in the room. Rita had stilled her tail twirling. Trevor’s mouth straightened into a thin line, eyebrow arched up. Sonny’s hands were clasped together in between his thighs. Amanda had squared her shoulders and she could feel the hair on the back of her neck trickle. Rafael’s mouth opened to say something — he wasn’t sure what he was going to say — but then he felt it in his fingers.

Rafael’s eyes are hard and locked onto the planchette. His fingers twitched as he felt the piece of wood slightly move diagonally away from him and over to the corner of the board where an intricately drawn YES was. When the word made itself at home under the glass dome in the middle of the planchette, Carisi’s voice was shaking, “That’s not funny Amanda,” the Brooklyn man scolded his coworker.

A noise came from Amanda in regards to Sonny’s accusation and when Rafael’s looked over at you under his lashes, you were already looking over at Amanda with a furrowed brow. Amanda felt your gaze on her and when she finally looked up from the planchette, she rolled her eyes, “Fine…fine.” Her hands lifted up in surrender and she scrunched her nose.

“See, nothing to be scared of Sonny,” Trevor snickered, fingers coming to pinch the top of Sonny’s ear. Sonny shouldered the brunette away, brows furrowed in annoyance and mouth lopsided into a frown. 

“Bite me, Langan.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Carisi,” Trevor shot back just before shooting back another Jello shot. This one was green.

Rafael was silently thanking Amanda from across the table. Hands brought back close to his being, Rafael let out the breath he was holding. He shivered when you scolded Amanda, “Gimme your fingers and don’t joke about, Amanda.”

Amanda let out a huff of air at your tone. “Alright, okay. Calm down.”

Amanda reached out her fingers again and settled them onto her designated spot on the planchette. You copied her and when Rafael didn’t follow suit, you and Amanda looked over at the lawyer. Rafael felt the room shift over to his attention. He felt stuffy in his cheap police uniform. Glancing over at you, he caught your eyes and he silently pleaded.

You didn’t react for a moment until finally, you silently let him off the hook with the smooth transition of reeling in Langan to put his money where his mouth is. Rafael got up from his spot, maybe a bit too quickly, and went over to where Langan was previously heckling from on the couch. Rafael’s legs were jelly and he was happy to plop down onto the couch, grabbing a Jello shot. He swallowed it down too fast to even acknowledge the color of it.

Trevor Langan dramatically rolled his eyes when you beckon him to substitute in for the demon summoning. But he gladly strolled his way over and sat down next to you on the floor. You had to scooch over a bit to make room for Trevor’s long legs and overall more lankier body. He rubbed his hands together and gave a grin before planting his fingers onto the planchette. “Let’s get this show on the road, ladies!”

Amanda and you exchanged looks before your fingers found their spots. The room went quiet again. Nobody noticed it, but the music had stopped in the middle of a song. Rita found herself needing to rest her eyes as playing with a Ouiji board doesn’t really help overly drunk people stay awake. Her head rested against the shoulder of a rigid Carisi. He didn’t seem to notice the extra weight on him.

“I’ll ask the questions this time since cops aren’t too good with questioning suspects,” Trevor quipped. Amanda glared over at the lawyer. You ignored Trevor and shifted your gaze over to the board. “Hello spirits, demons, and devils–” Rita mumbled out a noise of acknowledgement, eyes still closed, snuggling more into Carisi’s shoulder. Carisi fought the urge to shrug her off because he didn’t want to be rude but he wasn’t in a particular cuddly mood. Trevor continued, “Are you here with us?”

Rafael felt a coldness in the apartment. He noticed the lack of music as the group stayed quiet. Sonny felt his neck get prickly, the hair standing up and a shiver rolled up his back. If Rita was more sober, she probably could have felt it. 

“Spir—“ Trevor’s voice started but it was cut off by a yelp from someone as the room went dark, the snap of electricity confirming so. 

“Oh, Mother Theresa!” Sonny’s voice was sharp and trembling. Rita let out a hum in question before opening her eyes. The air was rigid and cold. Rafael was quick to jump onto his feet in one swift motion. You blinked quickly, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the darkness. 

Slowly but surely, you were able to make out shapes in the room. You were about to call out to Rafael when there was a sharp shriek. It started out high in its caliber but then it morphed into something gruesome and growling. 

“What the fuck–” That was Trevor. Then a small light shone in the middle of the room, like a little slice of heaven from above. Rafael’s blood ran cold. Carisi stood abruptly, stumbling over his large feet towards Rafael. Rita curled her legs up onto your couch, hugging the back of the furniture, as if she was using it to ground herself not only physically, but mentally.

Trevor’s hand shook, making the light shive as it shined over onto the blonde detective. You couldn’t believe your eyes. You were sure nobody in the room could.

Across from you, on the other side of your thifted coffee table that took you thirty minutes to convince Rafael to get with you, was Detective Amanda Rollins possessed by something. All of her fingers were bent harshly and weirdly, each one of them touching the planchette in some way. Her shoulders were stiff, but her chin was lifted slightly, mouth slightly agape as she moaned and groaned inhumanely.

Her hair seemed electric. The ends of her blonde strands were lifting at the ends very slightly, strands engulfing around her head. The part that made your eyes water and your heart pound heavily were her eyes. They were wide open and black.

“A-amanda.. This i-isn’t funny!”

Sonny’s voice seemed to shake to the same rhythm as Trevor Langan’s hand. You heard the lawyer mutter more curses under his breath as he stood. Rita was able to swing her legs over the back of the couch and her feet stepped softly towards the front door of your apartment. She paused when Amanda let out another shriek that morphed into a muffled, pained groan.

In the dull phone flashlight, Amanda’s head began to turn, peeking over her shoulder at Sonny. Sonny backed up towards Rafael more, shivering as the two men touched. Sonny’s hand grabbed Rafael’s wrist tightly.  “Amanda?” The voice was crackly and harsh, like Amanda had spent her last thirty years smoking two packs a day straight. Her teeth snapped together and her tongue swiped over her lips. She let out a giggle. “Amanda’s not here to play, Dominick.”

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Graphic sex, oral, fingering, language, homophobia, homophobic slurs. Word count: 2,443 "Onions and relish!?" you observed, watching Casey scoop condiments onto a ballpark hot dog. Your face screwed up. "Gross."

"I've got highbrow taste," Casey retorted, glancing at yours. "And you shouldn't talk. Ketchup and mustard? Are you five?"

"It's a classic," you argued, both pushing your way through the crowded line of Yankees fans waiting for their own ballpark snacks.

You returned to your seats, up in the nosebleeds along with a scattering of other die-hard baseball fans, the humming of a summertime crowd and the buzzing of the lights wrapping around you like a blanket. You heard the crack of a bat, and both you and Casey froze, watching the field.

"Yes!" you yelled, pumping your fist in the air as your team–the Cardinals–drove in another run. "Fuckin' Redbirds!"

Normally, you'd be a lot more self-conscious about drawing attention to yourself in a crowd like this–almost exclusively Yankees fans, including your girlfriend. When the Yankees weren't playing the Cardinals, you wore some of Casey's Yankees gear and cheered them on with her. But the Cardinals? They'd been your family's team for generations. You'd grown up on Pujols and Molina and Wainwright, and you were nothing if not loyal. But in this crowd, you stood out amongst the black-and-white like a red thumb. Casey had looked embarrassed, and you'd worried for a moment that she really was bothered by your vocal support of the away team.

"Am I embarrassing you?" you'd asked.

"Yes."

"In a bad way?"

Casey looked at you and smiled at your serious expression. "No, honey. Like, embarrassing but it's endearing. Does that make sense?"

You thought about it for a moment. "I think so. You would tell me if I was bad embarrassing?"

"I would," she confirmed, patting your hand.

It was one of your favorite things about Casey that she was so patient when you misread or didn't understand social cues. She never made fun of you. She always explained, and she always reassured you when you were afraid you'd done something wrong.

But this time it was definitely Casey who had done something wrong. You watched her shove a bite of hot dog into her mouth, beautifully messy, as always when she wasn't at work.

"Your whole mouth is gonna taste like pickles for the rest of the night," you muttered, taking a bite of your own hot dog.

She looked at you, smirking. "And why are you so concerned about my mouth, huh?"

You blushed. "No reason..."

"Mmhm." She took another bite, smug, then grasped your chin, pulling you to her for a kiss. Her lips were salty with sweat, and she smelled like the ballpark dust and the leather of her glove. She was intoxicating, but then you always felt lightheaded when Casey kissed you. Something about the stadium lights and the summer heat just made you that much more dazed.

"That's fuckin' hot," you heard someone say behind you. You shrank and glanced back, Casey's hand squeezing yours protectively. Two men, unshaven, with beers to go with their beer bellies, leered at you from the row behind.

"Nobody asked you, asshole," Casey shot back, flipping him off. You avoided eye contact with them, trying to make yourself smaller. Having grown up in the south, you'd been in enough unsafe situations because of your sexuality that your go-to defense was to ignore and hide. Casey's was not. She was tall and strong, and she'd grown up with absolute confidence in who and what she was.

Your nostrils flared in disgust as one of the men licked his lips, raking his eyes up and down Casey's body.

"What's a hot piece like you doing with a dyke? You oughta let a real man take you for a spin."

Casey stood and pushed him–hard. The man reeled, sloshing his beer all over his front. "You better shut your fucking mouth or I'll shut it for you," she growled.

The man's arm shot out, grabbing Casey by the back of her head. He dug his fingers into her hair to pull her closer. "That's okay, honey," he said. "I like 'em feisty."

Any fear you had dissipated into white hot anger as you watched, as if in slow motion. You, however, were not stuck in slow motion. Without thinking, you lunged forward, grabbed the man's wrist, and wrenched it back until he squealed. You shoved Casey behind you.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" you spat, puffing yourself up as you stood between him and your girlfriend. Which, considering your diminutive height, probably didn't do a whole lot to deter him.

Your teeth clenched and your whole body buzzed with rage. It took a lot to make you angry, but you were spitting angry now. All you knew was that no one–no one–was going touch Casey on your watch.

The man laughed, knocking your cap off your head with a swipe of his finger. "And what are you gonna do about it, Tiny Tim? Or should I say Tiny Tina?"

Without warning and, for once, without considering the consequences, you slammed your first into his groin as hard as you could which, considering you played softball, was pretty damn hard. It was a perk of your height that you were at the optimal angle to punch someone in the dick.

The man doubled over, coughing, and spilled the rest of his beer. "Fuckin' dykes," he muttered. He motioned to his friend, cupping his balls, and they sidled off. Probably looking for another section to harass women in.

You let out a shaky breath and turned to face Casey, your heart beating rapidly as the adrenaline faded and the nerves returned.

"Are you okay?" you asked, frantically looking her over, placing a gentle hand at the back of her head where the man had grabbed her.

You hardly noticed Casey watching you, biting her lip. You were too concerned with making sure she was safe and unharmed. As you rambled, checking her hands and neck and hair and face for any signs of hurt, Casey stared.

Finally, she interrupted you. "Y/N."

You stopped and made yourself meet her eyes.

"I think we should go." She looked at you pointedly.

You face fell. "Oh, love. I'm so sorry. We can go home if it'll make you feel better."

"No, that's not why."

A look of confusion crossed your face.

"We should go home because we have things to do."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't understand what you're saying, Casey."

She stepped closer, placing your hat back on your head and her arms on your shoulders. Her expression was self-satisfied as she leaned in, so close you could feel her breath, and whispered into your ear.

"Y/N," she breathed. "I need to do things. To you. Now."

"Oh," you said, the realization hitting you. "Oh my god. Okay."

You started gathering your things, then stopped and glanced at her. "From this? Really?"

"Y/N," she said, cheeks already flushed. "Don't make me wait. I'm gonna have a hard enough time making it home."

You tried to hide the mixture of shock and excitement on your face as you left the stadium, walking by the now abandoned concession stands and into the quiet parking lot.

"What's the alternative?" you asked her as you climbed into the driver's seat.

"What?"

"To making it home. You said you were gonna have a hard time making it home. But, like, where else would we–"

You were cut off by Casey's lips on yours, her breath hot and desperate as she grabbed your collar. She slid her tongue into your mouth, her teeth clacking against yours as she surged toward you, pushing for more.

When you separated, you both breathed heavily. Casey's face was flushed with lust. "If it were up to me," she said, leaning back in the seat. "I would've fucked you in the ballpark bathroom. I'd take you right here in the car. But I know that's not your style, so for the love of god..." Her eyes bored into you. "Drive."

Usually a slow driver, you made it back to Casey's apartment in record time. And, true to her word, Casey did have a hard time making it to the apartment, stopping at every chance she got–stoplights, outside the car door, in the elevator, the hallway–to kiss your neck, your mouth, undoing buttons of your Cardinals jersey as you went. Her hands slipped inside your shirt whenever you stopped for so much as a second.

When she finally got you into her bedroom, she was ravenous, tugging your clothes off and tossing them to the side with a singular focus. Her eyes were glazed and her face red as she struggled with your bra clasps.

"Fucking hell," she muttered, her fingers fumbling.

"Jesus, Casey," you said, reaching back to do them for her. "Calm down."

She groaned, letting her eyes rove over your now nude body, pushing you gently but forcefully on your back. She pecked you on the lips, then took your bottom lip between her teeth. You gasped, filled with both pain and pleasure. When she let you go, she was grinning.

"I'm gonna make you feel so..." She kissed your neck. "Fucking." Your collarbone. "Good." She lowered herself over you and pressed her mouth into yours, breathing you in, letting her tongue roam freely.

You moaned, arching your back. "Don't hold back on me now," she growled, leaving bite marks down your neck and across your chest. Usually quiet, you gave yourself permission to make some noise. After all, it drove Casey crazy.

"Fuck, Casey," you whined as she swirled her tongue across your nipples, first one and then the other, her hands pressing just above your hips. You writhed into her, squirming for more, your center already sopping wet.

"Tell me what you want," Casey said, trailing her tongue from your chest down to your stomach.

You struggled against her hands, pressing you into the bed. "Come on," you complained, nearly begging.

"Tell me," Casey said again, more forcefully, her fingers grazing over your clit.

You saw stars. "Fuck me."

Casey chuckled, her low voice vibrating against your already swollen clit. "That's my girl."

You gasped as she sucked your clit between her lips, swishing her tongue back and forth, back and forth. Her arms pinned your thighs in place, holding your writhing body tight. You heaved and moaned as you pushed Casey's head into your center. Her hair was soft and damp with sweat under your fingers, and you felt desperate for her as you chased your high.

She waited until you were nearly bursting, your breath hitching and your back arched against her, then pulled quickly away, wiping her mouth.

You gasped frantically. "What the fuck, Casey!?"

"Shh," she commanded, crawling back up your body and grabbing your chin. She straddled your hips, her own soaked center resting over yours.

"Casey, please," you begged, your eyes fluttering shut, the need of her flooding you.

"Don't close your eyes, honey. Look at me."

You huffed but opened your eyes, staring defiantly into hers, green and hungry and lustful.

She held your face still with one hand, then crept back down your body with the other. You let out a moan, squirming.

"Now arch your back for me," she said, the heel of her palm pressing hard into your clit.

Your body nearly exploded with the sensation, and you thrust into her with everything you had. You grabbed at Casey, pulling her into you, elated to know that she was using you, too, unable to put off her own pleasure any longer.

Your breath came faster and faster, your body jerking into Casey as Casey thrust toward you. You watched each other, both on the brink of losing control. Casey moaned, shutting her eyes briefly before squeezing your chin and staring at you.

"Now," she said.

And that one word was all it took. Your body shook against Casey's, your hips riding into her again and again, desperate for the friction as you moaned. She did the same, her nails digging into the skin at the top of your throat as she rode out her own orgasm. It felt like the two of you were hurtling across space, starbursts and supernovas and whole galaxies flashing inside you as you held onto one another. You quivered against her as the fireworks dissipated, spent and sweaty and heaving.

Casey grinned and planted kisses across your collarbone, counting. "One. Two. Three..."

You laughed and groaned. "Casey," you protested.

She'd discovered early on that, if she timed it right, she could make you come indefinitely. The only thing that stopped her was you getting overstimulated.

"Twenty-two," she finished and, once again, pressed the heel of her hand into your clit, harder and harder until she had you ready again, your hands grasping the bedsheets.

Your orgasm washed over you again, like a wave this time, pouring over you from head to toe.

Casey started in again, this time with her lips at the back of your knees. "One. Two..."

By the fifth round, you were nearly delirious, and Casey was salivating.

"Casey," you groaned, your body still pressing into her hand, almost against your will. "It's too much."

"Come on, sweetheart," she said, kissing you roughly. "Give me one more."

She continued grinding her hand into you, meshing her lips with yours, her tongue roving. Your breath caught and you moaned into her mouth, your orgasm taking you over one final, quaking time.

Casey cradled your head in the crook of her arm as you continued to shake, finally letting you relax.

"Thank you," she whispered, peppering your face with kisses.

You scrunched your nose. "For what? Letting you beat your record?"

"Well, that, too." She chuckled, deep and throaty, then brushed your sweaty bangs out of your face. "For protecting me. From that asshole."

You turned to her and tucked her hair behind her ear, running your thumb across her eyebrow.

"I would die before I let someone hurt you." Your voice was so quiet that, had anyone else been in the room, even they wouldn't have been able to hear. But you did. And Casey did.

She looked at you for a moment, then leaned down and kissed your forehead, hard and purposeful.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too."

You lost yourself in her arms for a bit as she ran a hand absentmindedly through your hair.

"We should go to more baseball games," Casey mused after a while.

You laughed. "Only if there's no relish involved."

"Deal."

[altsvu]

Hi lovely! If you're still taking prompt requests, “Should I slow down?” and/or “No need to rush—we have all night.” with everyone's favorite cannoli Carisi 😍

too fast… or not fast enough

pairing: sonny carisi x fem!reader

prompts used: “Should I slow down? and “No need to rush— we have all night” from the inexperienced smut prompts!

wc: 360

summary: relieving stress with sonny is something you enjoyed, fast or slow.

cw: smut (oral - fem receiving, p in v)

a/n: thank you anon!! this was TOO fun to write considering i don’t really write smut in this context (if that makes sense lol). i didn’t forget about your request, i just got busy with school! also lowkey my summary is trash

law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

“Sonny, you’re so irresistible.”

“Good, that’s how I want to be.”

That night had been one of many times you were intimate with Sonny.

It was like an escape from reality; he was stressed, you were stressed… what better way to release that stress right?

One night when the two of you were relieving stress, Sonny wanted to switch things up just a little bit, but he was having a little too much fun. He was going in on your cunt with his lips and you didn’t want him to stop. He looked up at you to watch how you were taking his mouth.

“Should I slow down?” Sonny asked.

“You’re going at the right pace, honey.” you moaned out.

“Good to know.” He smiled and continued devouring every inch of you.

A few nights later, the two of you just so happened to relieve stress once again. Only this time was different.

Sonny seemed to be more agitated than normal when he came home from work, so you had figured it was just a bad day. Over dinner, he told you why he was agitated and also stated that you were the only person that could help him get over it.

You knew exactly what that meant.

Because Sonny was in this state of agitation, he was fast and rough with you. Not that you didn’t like it, you were just feeling a more sensual night with him.

He took off your clothes in damn near one swift motion, laid you on your back, and pounded into you like there was no tomorrow.

“No need to rush— we have all night.” You stifled in between moans.

Sonny stopped and the two of you shared a moment together.

“Remember, you also mentioned you were off tomorrow. Let’s take our time, go slow, feel each other. Do you want to do that instead?” You added.

“You’re right baby, let’s do that. I’m sorry for being rough, I-“

You placed a finger on his lips, then ran a hand all over his bare body.

“A bad day happens, it’s okay. Just know I’m here to relieve any of those… feelings you have.”

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu @averyhotchner @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @detective-giggles @lapaquerette @itsjustmyfantasyroom @happyt0exist

[idontplaytrack]

Olivia Benson masterlist🤝

Index:

🤍 fluff

❤️‍🩹 angst

❤️‍🔥 smut

Bad Rep 🤍

Mama Bear 🤍

First 🤍

Sick 🤍

[happenstnces]

KINKTOBER ‘22 with HAPPENSTNCES !

welcome to my first ever kinktober ! i’m really excited for this (though i’m only doing 16 days), and i hope you enjoy!

— warnings will be on each individual fic ! i’ve already assigned a character ( * ) to each prompt and this will not change, so please don’t request for other characters on certain ones. as always, minors dni or you will be blocked.

( * ) i chose to write specifically for my l&o ladies since there’s little to no svu fics these days and i miss them ! every prompt will be for one of the three svu characters i write for ♡

OCT. 1ST: praise & sex toys  alex cabot

OCT. 3RD: kitchen sex & lingerie  casey novak

OCT. 5TH: daddy kink & spanking  olivia benson

OCT. 7TH: formal wear & strap-ons  alex cabot

OCT. 9TH: cockwarming & voice kink  casey novak

OCT. 11TH: uniform kink & authority kink  olivia benson

OCT. 13TH: finger fucking & edging  alex cabot

OCT. 15TH: degradation & overstimulation casey novak

OCT. 17TH: stripping & mirror sex  olivia benson

OCT. 19TH: orgasm control & brat taming  alex cabot

OCT. 21ST: erotic photos & stockings  casey novak

OCT. 23RD: break up & angry sex  olivia benson

OCT. 25TH: phone sex & orgasm denial  alex cabot

OCT. 27TH: begging & thigh riding casey novak

OCT. 29TH: bondage & aftercare olivia benson

OCT. 31ST: threesome & costumes casey novak & alex cabot

taglist ! ( open ! you can request to join or be removed here ) @jaywritessometimes @red1culous​

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Dearest Anon,

I tried to answer this in the original ask box but apparently not only can they not be edited in drafts, they also cannot be edited once posted. This came out more as a drabble than anything else. I hope you like it, and I'm desperately sorry for the long wait.

Sinsiriusly,

Hero

He could practically already hear her before he even picked up the phone, and to be perfectly honest, he was beyond not in the mood. Still, Rafael hadn’t spoken to his mother in weeks. Better to answer now and get it over with rather than not answer and run the risk of irritating her even more.

   “Hello?”

   “¿Rafael, cómo vas a aparecer en un programa sin el pelo peinado?”

   “Mami, what are you talking about?” he asked incredulously. “Do you have any idea how long I spend on my hair? Too much time.”

   “Bueno, Rafa, I don’t know what to tell you porque the angle wasn’t the best, pero parecía como una escoba. The light was behind you though, parecía un ángel.”

   He rolled his eyes at the blatant exaggeration that was quickly followed by a compliment that she regularly employed.

   “If you knew you were going to be on TV, why didn't you dress nicer?” she asked. “You know how many women watch this show?”

   “Mami, I’m a bit busy right now. I promise, I will call you later, but we’re sort of dealing with a crisis at the —”

   “Niño, pero, why do you think I’m calling?!” she asked.

   He let out a silent sigh as his eyes closed. 

   “Rafi. Rafi.”

   “Yes, I’m here, Mami,” he replied.

   “Why didn’t Benson do anything?”

   “Mami,” he said with a little more bite than he meant to use. Taking a breath, he said, “Listen to me, those producers, Jeffrey and Regina Prince, they’re lying. Not just that, they’re setting up their producer to take the fall when they were the ones who tried to cover this whole thing up.”

   “No me diga,” she replied. “Aye la pobrecita Melanie. She seems like a nice girl. Her mother must be so worried.”

   “We’re doing everything we can for Melanie, Mami, I promise.”

   “I know you are, mijo. I’m very proud of you, Rafi,” she replied. “Pero if you’re ever going to be on another reality show again, por favor, make sure that at least your tie is on straight.”

Translations

¿Rafael, cómo vas a aparecer en un programa sin el pelo peinado? - Rafael, how are you going to appear on a program without your hair brushed?

pero parecía como una escoba - it looked like a broom

parecía un ángel - you looked like an angel

No me diga - you don’t say

Aye la pobrecita Melanie - Oh poor Melanie

[proceduralpassion]

village panic garbage for Mike Duarte please 😀

My most recent Maurice blorbo, YEAH!

Panic rushed through you at the realization you were being followed.

You thought you were being paranoid because surely a man wouldn't get on a train to stalk you from Greenwich Village all the way to the Bronx. But you had paused at a nearby garbage can not far from the subway stop and clandestinely watched the man wait for you to make you next move.

Mike had been observing the whole encounter and knew he needed to step in.

"Sweetheart."

You're confused at the name of endearment.

He flashes his badge, "Just play along, I'll get you away from him."

Send in your drabble requests for the sleepover!

[storiesofsvu]

Good Girl

Grace Muncy x reader Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, minor SVU type case work, no smut but like, dirty talk still with a bit of mommy kink. I would call it a drabble, it's just over 1k

Being undercover was nothing new to you, but it was something relatively new to Muncy. Which is why where your hand laid on her thigh, your thumb was rubbing soothing circles into her skin. You were at a party, meeting with another high end trafficker about buying some new girls and Grace was your special little good girl, the one who got to come to parties like this, help select out her new friends. She was perched in your lap and you could nearly feel the nerves radiating off her, you shifted forward, swiping a glass of champagne from the table and passing it to her, your lips nearly brushing against the shell of her ear as you spoke.

“Relax pretty girl.” Your breath husked out onto her skin and she nearly shivered, taking a sip of the bubbly.

“Sorry.” She murmured, risking a glance down at you and she knew it was a mistake immediately. The neckline of your dress was cut halfway down your chest, revealing the delicate tattoo on your sternum surrounded by the curve of your chest. Her eyes lingered, perhaps a little too long, watching the way the gem of your necklace glinted in the low light before they dragged back up to your face and she noticed you’d caught her staring, smirk on your lips. “Sorry.” She muttered again, her cheeks turning pink.

“It’s alright princess.” You cooed, your hand smoothing a loose piece of hair behind her ear, fingers trailing down her jaw to pinch at her chin, “you know you can look at mommy all you want, you just have to ask to touch.”

Grace was entirely unsure if you were aware of her crush on you, or the effect the words you had just said had on her, but tonight was going to be one hell of a night either way. She nearly squeaked, distracting herself with her drink as you turned to say something to one of the men beside you, engaging in ‘work’ conversation in another language. Her ears picked up a moment later that it was Italian, flowing from between your lips like fucking silk. She did her best not to squirm in your lap, attempting to squeeze her thighs together but it only gained your attention, your arm wrapping tighter around her while you continued your conversation.

She was almost relieved when the group of girls were brought into the room, beginning to worry that she was going to blow the op. Your focus turned to them as you shifted Grace off your lap, though your hand slid up her back, fingers tickling at the baby hairs at the back of her neck. You could sense the tension beginning to rise in the room, trickling in slowly like a gas leak, you were well aware you had a limited amount of time to make this work. Standing from the couch you greeted the girls, examining them, well aware of Grace’s eyes practically glued to your ass while you did so. Glancing over your shoulder to her, you shot her a wink, saying something about how she’d look like such a pretty whore beside the redhead whose chin you had pinched between your thumb and forefinger. You let out a soft sigh, ‘tsk’ing in her direction before you glanced to the man you’d been talking to. Grace had missed it, but the guard at the door had shifted ever so slightly, his hand moving from in front of him to the back of his pants and you knew there was a gun.

“Could you give us a moment?” You asked, “it seems like someone’s a little jealous.” Stepping toward her with a sly grin on your cheeks your fingers curled under her chin, tilting her face up to you and urging her to stand, “come pet, talk to me.”

As she stood your hand trailed down her side, landing in the small of her back as you lead her into the kitchen. You were still in view of the group in the living room, feeling their eyes on you as you turned, resting a hip against the island, raising a brow in Grace’s direction now that you were out of earshot. You kept your mask up and she nearly gulped at the way your fingers were twirling with a strand of her hair.

“You need to relax.” You purred, your head tilting, a grin on your cheeks to keep the façade up, “or was it that I called you a whore? You think you’re a good girl? Because you give off brat vibes if you’d ask me.” You teased and her breath caught in her throat.

“What do I….?”

“Exactly what you’re doing. That cute little bratty pout on your lips while you watch mommy pick out some girls to buy. The rest gets taken care of.” You sighed softly, your hand ghosting over her cheek, “but you’re too tense, I don’t think they’re buying it fully.”

“So?” She tugged her lower lip in between her teeth, doe eyes glancing up at you and you chuckled. Your thumb trailed over her lip and she let it go with a pop, her eyes nearly fluttering shut at the sensation.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” Her eyes almost flew open but she managed to keep control as you stepped toward her, ducking you head to softly kiss her neck, murmuring your words against her skin.

“I said… kiss me. So they think we’ve made up and you’re ready to be mommy’s good girl the rest of the night. I promise you’ll get rewarded.” By the time you’d finished speaking your lips were right under her ear, leaving a feather light kiss there before you straightened yourself up. One of your hands rested on her hip, the other still cupping her cheek, thumb stroking across her soft skin. “Okay?” You raised a brow in question and she gave you the tiniest nod.

Ducking down, you chuckled as she suddenly rocked forward, eager to feel her lips against yours. She practically melted into your embrace, completely forgetting where she was while your arm wound around her and her body was warmed by the heat of yours. You nipped at her lip gently and she practically moaned into your mouth, letting your tongue slip into hers and she could taste the bourbon you’d been drinking. You were pulling away before she was even remotely ready, a whine escaping her lips when you did so, her eyes slowly fluttering open, lips still parted.

“C’mon.” You chuckled, “lets finish this.” You booped her on the nose, “good girl.” Your fingers linked with hers this time as you lead her back to the living room and main event.

With things finally wrapped up you were able to exit into the cool night air and Grace finally felt like she could breath again, her head slowly wrapping around exactly what had happened.

“Hey.” She called out and you turned back to her right as you reached your car, a soft grin on your lips, a brow cocked in her direction and she nearly melted again. “Was… uh… was that all for show?”

“Hmm.” You shrugged, “did you want it to be?”

With a wink and a smirk you ducked into your car, leaving Grace feeling all too hot and bothered for the countless time that night.

______________

@thatesqcrush @witches-unruly-heart @daddy-heather-dunbar @baubeautyandthegeek @red1culous @bullet-prooflove @momlifebehard @alexxavicry

[mariamariquinha]

Casual - Another Mike Duarte Drabble

It will be the last. I promise. These are all loose ideas and writing exercises because I'm running like an old car - slow but still driveable even if it feels like it's going to explode.

This is dangerous because I started to care.

You'd say it was a convenience of the job, a bonus for choosing street work over desk sergeant. 

It had been a hard chase, one of those moments when you were more instinctive than practical, and when you least expected it, you were on the curb with a guy, him just pushed up against a parked car so he could be restrained, after punching you in the face. Usual. 

You didn't even notice that there was blood dripping from your forehead or something when you arrived at the station - you wiped it with your hand to stop the bleeding. When your captain said you'd better go to the hospital, you wanted to finish booking the guy and any further questioning was for the next day.

At least the act of attacking a police officer warranted pre-trial detention.

The doctor was adamant about the recovery, but he gave you the painkillers knowing you wouldn't take them. Professional experience with your 'type'. It wasn't until you got home, showered and sat on the sofa with a beer in your hand, that you came to the inevitable conclusion that maybe your 'type' must have been out of date for quite some time.

Someone knocked. Insistent. 

Your first reaction was to grab the gun sitting on your coffee table. In the background, a random movie that you barely paid attention to was playing, and your eyes stayed fixed on the door, waiting for the next knock.

It came.

“Who’s it?” You asked. 

“Mike.”

In all the months you've started dating casually, this was the first time he'd come to your apartment. There were always motels, his apartment, under the justification of being more practical, which was true. 

It was past eleven, he certainly had other occupations besides showing up, without warning, at her house. And without calling over the intercom.

Maybe that instant chock, the fact that you waited long enough to answer, made him grow impatient. 

“... I'm going in anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you will.” 

And he did. 

Duarte didn’t look around in search of anything inside your apartment, nor did one of that arrivings from a lot of politeness. You certainly had stopped caring so much about this type of behavior a while ago.

“Any chances of telling me what happened?” He stopped in the middle of your living room, hands on his hips. 

“You wouldn't come here if you didn't know that,” You adjusted yourself in the couch with discomfort, ready to sip more of your beer. “How did you get into the building?”

“Is this relevant?”

“I like to think it's not that easy to get into my apartment.”

He wet his lips, rubbed his chin and shrugged, like a mischievous boy caught in the act.

“I showed the badge to your neighbor, Mrs. Hastings. Said it was a professional matter.”

“You’re unbeliviable.”

“You wouldn't let me come any other way.”

Well, that... makes sense. Fuck. 

There was a small smile playing on his face with your silent admission, and shortly afterwards Duarte went into your kitchen and fetched himself a beer, making himself welcome at your side.

“Beer seems to solve most of our problems,” He muttered. 

“The doctor told me to stop.”

“Why?”

“Eh,” You shrugged. 

There were a few questions you wanted to ask there, in the pitch black of your living room, but you made sure you did your best. You wanted to ask about the Benson case, about the whole BX9 situation, because he was definitely wasting precious time while he was there with you. 

Also, who were you kidding? Your ego was particularly bruised for making such a reckless decision as if you were an amateur professional. It wasn't the way you should have handled things and it made you feel bad.

“I lost Muncy,” Because you certainly didn't want to talk about your situation, so Mike brought up his. 

You pondered the information silently, staring at the TV and movie knowing he was doing the same.

“Benson?”

“Mm-hm.”

“The Manhattan SUV is good.”

“I know.”

“And she’s a good detective.”

“It sounds very rehearsed,” He pointed out and that made you look at him. “When we worked together, you didn’t talk much.”

Mmphf. 

“... I’m not a fan, is all.” 

“Are you not a feminist?” It was obvious that Duarte was teasing you, but you still rolled your eyes.

“Is that why you came? To ask my opinions about Muncy?”

“You don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Of course not,” You got back to the TV, a touch offended. “Just because I agree with feminism, doesn’t mean I need to like all the women in the world. You can dislike a cop but admit they’re good at what they do.”

“As it happened to me.”

Which was also true. You didn't want to assume how those concepts got lost along the way, how his bullshit got more tolerable, or how the two of you became more in tune. And he knew it. He always knew everything. 

“I'm not a walk in the park either,” You said after a time, not daring to see his reaction. 

He didn’t say anything for a good amount of time. Just when the silence was full settled, though, he decided to open his mouth. 

“Don’t do that again.”

You closed your eyes for a few seconds, shaking your head and then pursing your lips to prevent something stupid coming out. Him, on the other hand, seemed more determined, squirming in the couch to turn fully at you. 

“... I needed to catch the guy an-”

“I wasn’t talking about it,” He interrupted. This time, you two stared at each other and perhaps that was the closest you've come to seeing him with no intentions of pissing you off. “You should be careful about it too, but that’s not what I meant.”

“So what do you mean?”

“I heard from a former Captain I had that the more experienced we get in the profession, the more we become those people who react to robberies. As if we suddenly switch sides and relive every day on the other side of the spectrum of what we once were.” 

He touched your shoulder.

“Everyone makes mistakes. We’re not the fucking Robocop or whatever.” 

“But?”

“No but. I wouldn’t lie, especially because you would know if I did.”

That made you smirk, just as he did right after. When silence hung in the air again, he narrowed his eyes and came to a considerable conclusion, one that made him raise his eyebrows in defeated acceptance.

“It's not just casual, is it?”

Because a casual thing didn't go that far. Because he wouldn't say that to you or be there if it weren't for a feeling of care that went beyond the limits of that casuality.

“No.”

And with that, you leaned over to the coffee table, put your gun away and picked up the TV remote, handing it to him before making yourself more comfortable on the couch.

“We can watch your Indiana Jones.”

“Who said I like Indiana Jones?”

“I stalked your mother on Facebook.”

He laughed. As the opening credits of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom started to roll, you hoped that was enough for him to know that it was your way of saying that, in fact, it wasn't a casual thing.

-------------------------------

No pressure tags:

@cheesybadgers

@thoroughlymodernminutia

@the-hinky-panda

@annetje

@bullet-prooflove​

@seaweeden