I love Olivia Benson- Badass Cop Alex Cabot- Sexy Attorney Casey Novak- Fiery Redhead Mariska Hargitay Stephanie March Diane Neal Bensler (Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler) Cabenson (Alex Cabot and Olivia Benson) Novson (Casey Novak and Olivia Benson) Calex (Casey Novak and Alex Cabot) Barbenson (Rafael Barba and Olivia Benson) Bensaro (Olivia Benson and Nick Amaro) Nobler (Casey Novak and Elliot Stabler) Cabler (Alex Cabot and Elliot Stabler)
Abigail Borin x fem!reader
warnings: language, smut, fingering, dirty talk, daddy kink, minor derogatory dirty talk/praise, semi public sex?
A couple of prompts/requests thrown together. This took way too long from the initial "daddy!borin must be written" to the actual writing LOL.
3.3k
You were no stranger to the CGIS office, often dropping Abi off in the morning or waiting in the parking lot to pick her up after a long haul day, occasionally swinging through to drop something off that the other woman had forgotten at home or to make sure she actually ate her lunch. You knew her team and most of the administration around the building, making it pretty easy for you to come and go as you pleased. Today, bored out of your mind at home, you figured there was no harm in paying your wife a visit, she’d been over stressed about this case after all. Besides, her lunch was still sitting on the counter where you’d placed it while she got ready that morning. What kind of wife would you be if you let her starve?
Abi’s preferred take out and a tray of actually good coffee in your hand, you breezed past the reception desk with a warm smile before heading down the hallways to her office. The door was open just a smidge, nudging open a tad further when you rapped on the wood.
“What?” The irritation in her voice was present as you shouldered the door the rest of the way open.
“Rough day?” You asked and the annoyance immediately fell from her face, replaced with a tired smile.
“Would be a hell of a lot better if we weren’t working this case with NCIS.” She grumbled, closing her laptop before pushing it to the side of her desk.
“That DiNozzo guy a thorn in your side again?”
“A thorn in everyone’s side and always.”
“Sucky.” You let out a small sigh, moving through the room to place the bag and drinks down on her desk, “hopefully lunch will help.”
“Believe me, this will.” She swiped a Styrofoam cup with one hand, taking a hefty swig as the other reached out to intertwine your fingers with hers, giving you a tender squeeze, “thank you.”
“Can’t let my favourite girl go hungry, now can I?” Your free hand braced on her shoulder as you leant over to kiss her, breathing her in as your lips moved against her.
“Now that definitely does help.” A smirk took over her lips as you let out a laugh, leaning against the side of her desk.
Rather than turn her attention to lunch or back to work, Abi’s eyes lingered on your body, flicking down to the pair of heels on your feet, slowly dragging up your bare legs to the hem of your dress before they roamed over your curves, lingering just a touch on your chest before finally catching your gaze again. You felt the fire pulsing through you, a tingle starting in your lower stomach as heat crept onto your cheeks at the way she was looking at you. Sure, you’d shown up under false pretenses but you hadn’t expected Abi to take the bait, especially without making you work for it first.
Her tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip and pulling your full attention as she leant back in her chair, “what’d you bring me?”
“Hmm?” You blinked rapidly, pulling yourself out of the daydream as your eyes darted away from her lips.
“What’s in the bag?” She asked with a small chuckle, finger pointing toward the takeout you’d placed down on her desk.
“Salmon bowls from that place on eighth you like so much.”
“A girl after my heart.” She smiled reaching for the bag.
“Pretty sure I already secured that.” You replied with a laugh of your own, circling around to settle in a chair on the opposite side of her desk as she started to empty the bag of its contents.
“Either way, thank you for this. As much as I need a break are you okay if I work through lunch? I need these signed off by the end of the day, I swear I’ll still listen to you ramble though.”
You laughed softly, passing her a fork before prying open your rice bowl, “you do what you’ve got to do. I’m just happy to be here.”
A comfortable silence took over her office as the two of you dug into lunch, the occasional sound of her pen scratching against paperwork or files flipping open and shut. You shared a story or two from your week between bites of food, a general warmth floating through the air as Abi worked.
There was a sudden knock on her door, if you could even call it that, before a man practically fell through the entrance,
“Hey! So I”—
“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me GOD, DiNozzo.” Abi snapped, her fingers tightening around her pen as she glared across the room at him.
“Sorry.” He let out an awkward chuckle, suddenly stalling as his eyes landed on you and they widened briefly before he shot you a devilish grin. “Didn’t realize you had company, hi, Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.” Extending his hand he started to take a step towards you before Abi’s voice cut through the air like a knife and he froze.
“Don’t even think about it.” She nearly growled, her eyes darkening as they flicked between the two of you.
“Alright.” His hand swung back, running along the side of his hair before he cleared his throat, “no introductions. Got it.”
Abi let out a frustrated sigh, placing the lid back onto her lunch as she glowered at him, “what do you want DiNozzo?”
He paused for a moment, as if wondering whether his questions were actually worth it or not, rocking on his feet before he finally spoke, “just wondering if you’d heard back from the lab?”
“Did I not say I would call when I did?”
“Uh, yes. Yes you did.”
“Then why are you in my office breathing down my neck about it?” She rolled her eyes, “go annoy someone else!”
“Yes ma’am.” He nodded, shooting you another look that was too long for Abi’s liking before he finally left the office.
“Christ.” She muttered, running a hand over her face and you stifled a laugh.
Reading the room, you popped the lid back onto your bowl, sliding it back into the bag as you stood from your chair, “yeah that’s definitely a pain in the ass.”
“You only got the half of it.” She groaned, “lock the door so he doesn’t come back.” You laughed and she finally looked up to find you already on your feet with your bag over your shoulder, “hey… come sit down for a second, you’ve got time.”
“I thought you were busy.” You gestured between the pile of papers and the doorway.
“Baby…” her face softened, a gentle smile on her lips, “you know I’ll always make time for you.”
Returning her smile you quickly locked the door and headed back to your chair and Abi clicked her tongue, your eyes darting up to hers.
“Come sit…” She pushed back from her desk just enough, her legs spreading ever so much and you felt the tingling bursting through your body again, a shy smile on your cheeks as you scurried around her desk.
Abi’s hand closed around your hip, directing you so you were flush to her chest, nestling into her lap so her hand could reach around you to continue signing off on papers. You let out a happy hum, nuzzling into the embrace, getting comfortable on her lap as her free hand wrapped around your middle, holding you to her. Her hand splayed against your stomach through your dress, fingertips rubbing just enough to entice you to let out another sigh, your body relaxing deeper into hers. Her lips suddenly pressed against your neck, lingering for a second before her breath was hot against your skin.
“My sweet girl.” She murmured, “always so patient with me.” Her lips kissed your skin again, “so nice to me, spoiling me by bringing me lunch.”
“Just wanted to make sure you ate.” You murmured back, already lost swimming in the pool of lust that was hazing your brain.
“I’m sure that was all.” Abi nipped at the side of your neck as her hand trailed down your side, “because I don’t feel any panty lines.” Her fingers pinched the fabric of your dress where she should have been able to pluck at the waistband of your underwear, tsk’ing her tongue again.
“No idea what you’re talking about.” You turned your head just far enough to catch her gaze, your eyes dark, lips parted just enough for your tongue to dart out to wet them, “I dressed all nice for you.”
“Don’t look at me like that and then feign innocence.” Abi scolded, her hand slinking further south, toying with the hem of your dress before it disappeared underneath. Her nails scratched your inner thigh, pinching the supple skin as she tormented you, avoiding touching where she knew you wanted it the most. Your breath caught in your throat as her other hand slid up your body, daring to cup your chest and your back arched into her touch. She chuckled darkly, her fingertips finally tracing through your folds. “Just like I thought….” She husked, her breath hot on the shell of your ear, “no panties. You really are daddy’s dirty girl, aren’t you?”
“Mmhmm…” You managed a nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip as Abi’s fingers pinched at your nipple, rolling it between them as she watched your breathing pick up.
“Only dirty girls would show up pretending to bring me lunch when really all they wanted was to show off.” Her finger tips dipped into your pussy, slowly trailing through your wetness before her hands wrapped around your thighs. “But you know how much I love your pussy,” her hands shoved your legs wide open and you fell completely back onto her as your dress rode up over your hips. A gasp escaped your lips as the cool air of the office hit your cunt and your body shivered, “and just how much daddy loves a dirty girl.” Her lips pressed against the column of your neck, “love when you put yourself on display, know how much I love playing with this pretty pussy, don’t you?”
“Y-yes…” Your chest was nearly heaving as she continued to toy with you, fingers trailing through your pussy lips with barely any pressure. You couldn’t help but let out a needy whine, your hips pressing forward into the touch.
Abi chuckled, “poor girl,” the hand she had on your chest pinched again, “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already speechless.” Her teeth sunk into the crook of your neck and you whined, body grinding down onto hers, “words, baby.”
“Please…” you whined again, this one louder than the last.
“Please what?” Abi asked, her finger tapping your clit as it throbbed with need.
“Need you daddy.” You whimpered, your pussy was already pulsing around nothing, you could feel your juices smearing across your inner thighs as heat coursed through your entire body, pleasure clouding your brain. “Need your fingers.”
Abi chuckled softly at just how breathy your voice was, the way you were practically shivering in her arms, the heat she could feel wafting off your skin. She adored when you got like this, completely submitted to her, putty in her hands, willing to do whatever she wanted, wherever she wanted. She knew that in just one of your very rapid heart beats she could have you on your knees between her legs, pleasuring her, getting her off to help relax from her previously stressful day. But that wasn’t what she wanted, she wanted to toy with you, wanted to see the wetness drip down your thighs, wanted to feel the way you clenched down around her, hear the filthy noises coming from your pussy as your teeth sunk into your lip so the entire floor wouldn’t hear your moans.
“Shame I don’t have a strap here,” her fingers began lazily rubbing your clit, “you do always look so gorgeous stuffed with daddy’s cock.”
“Mmmm…” you whined, hips rocking in time with her hand, your back arching into the touch for more pressure, “please daddy…” You could feel tears nearly pricking in the corners of your eyes as your desire built up even higher and higher, your heart racing against your rib cage.
“What?” She taunted, nipping at your earlobe as her fingers pressed harder against your clit, rubbing it more intently, “you wanted my fingers, now you’ve got them.”
To emphasize her point, her free hand began groping at your chest again, yanking the neckline of your dress down to expose your tits, nipples hardening instantly in the cool air. She shifted you slightly in her lap, earning another whimper when her fingers briefly slid off your clit. Though the whimper was soon lost to a breathy gasp when she ducked down, her other hand cupping your chest upwards so she could wrap her mouth around a nipple.
“Fuck…” you muttered, body tingling at the way her tongue flicked across your body, her fingers pressing harder between your legs. Abi groaned against your skin, teeth scraping your chest before her tongue began matching the pace of her fingers, “oh god!” Your head fell back onto her shoulder, lips parted just enough to pant as sparks began flying under your skin, your thighs trembling as Abi brought you to your first peak. A smirk on her lips when her hand slipped deeper between your legs to catch the wetness dripping from your cunt.
“Such a good little slut.” She murmured, nuzzling her nose into your neck before she pressed a trail of kisses into it, watching as you panted, eyes fluttering between shut and open. “Now, go ahead and get daddy’s fingers nice and messy for me.”
The hand she had between your legs lifted up to your open mouth, eagerly slipping between your lips and you groaned around her fingers. Your tongue slid around them, tasting yourself, coating every millimetre with spit, sucking them further into your mouth, muffled moans getting louder with each pull. The cloud of your first orgasm was beginning to dissipate and all you could think about was the pulsing of your pussy and how badly you wanted it to be full.
Abi finally pulled her fingers from your mouth, satisfied with your work, “good girl.” Her other hand swiftly wrapped around your waist, lifting you from her lap and bending you over her desk, “now you’re gonna take it like the slut you are, right?”
“Yes!” You gasped, your nipples hardening against the wood, “yes, daddy.”
“That’s what I thought.” Her spit slicked fingers trailed up your inner thighs as she stood from her chair, stepping closer to you and you could feel the heat from her body right on your exposed skin. “My dirty girl.” She cooed, leaning over you to press a kiss between your shoulder blades as her fingers finally sunk into your pussy.
“Fuck…” the low swear came out in a very satisfied groan, your eyes fluttering shut as your cunt pulsed around her digits. Your hips rocked back toward her with each push of her hand until her own body was rocking against you, her hips bumping into your ass each time her fingers disappeared inside you.
“That’s it baby,” she purred, “doing so good for me.” Her hips crashed into yours, sending you jerking into the side of her desk, a small whine leaving your lips and you heard her chuckle again. “You can take it.” She murmured, gently biting at your shoulder before she picked up the pace.
“Oh god!” You bit down onto your knuckles in an attempt to muffle your noises, letting the ones squelching from your pussy fill the office instead. Abi let out a low groan at the sight of her fingers coated in your juices, her hips rocking faster against yours as her fingers swiftly moved in and out.
“Can’t wait to get you home baby.” She grunted, “get you completely naked, underneath me just like this while you squirt all over my thick cock.”
“Mmmm….”
She could feel you squeezing around her already, a sheen of sweat shimmered across your body and your thighs were already starting to shake. Your juices were dripping down her wrist and it was becoming harder and harder to contain any noises as fire raced through your nerves. Her free hand moved around your waist, quickly finding your clit again and she began to rub it at the same pace she was fucking you. The fingers inside you curled, once, twice, and on the third time you gasped, your eyes shooting open when she found the spot.
“Oh fuck! Yes daddy….” Your mouth slammed shut again, whimpers daring to break free, “god. Don’t stop.” Your eyes scrunched shut again as your entire body began to tingle, “fuck, right—there!”
Your pussy pulsed again and again, clenching down harder around Abi’s fingers with each pass of her hand, her fingertips pressing into the sensitive spot harder each time. Her hips jerked into yours again, this time stilling, pinning you to the side of the desk, grinding against you while her hands reduced you to a whining mess. The hand she had wrapped around you spanked your clit, the first one brought a gasp from between your lips, the second had your pussy trembling, and the third brought a burst of juices soaking her other hand as you hit your peak again.
“Fuck!” You grunted, your body shaking against the desk as Abi’s hand slowed, gently fucking you through your orgasm.
“That’s it baby.” She leant over you again, pressing soft kisses down the exposed part of your spine, “so fucking hot when you come for me.” Her tongue swiped up your back before she nipped at the crook of your neck, “I just love it when you make a mess of yourself.”
You could only whimper in response, your body going slack, limbs nearly feeling like jello as the post sex haze began to sink into your brain. Abi kept a steady hand on your waist to keep you still while the other reached out for a couple of tissues, gently cleaning you up. She wiped your thighs dry, softly patting your puffy pussy, a small smirk on her cheeks at the noise you let out and the way you shuddered at the contact. Once she was satisfied with her work she dropped back into her chair, tugging you with her to fall into her lap.
“Feel good?” She asked, a tender kiss left on the side of your neck before readjusting the neckline of your dress, hand smoothing the fabric all the way down, making sure you were properly covered and composed.
“Mmhm.” You nodded, finally able to turn your head to kiss her properly.
“Good.” She murmured against your lips, stealing another kiss while her hands trailed patterns up and down your sides. She waited until you had fully caught your breath and the life was coming back into your eyes before she pinched at your side, nudging your hips, “now, you better hurry up and get home.”
“Why?” You asked, nearly pouting as you turned to face her, finding a devilish grin on her lips.
“Don’t you remember? I have plans for you.” She stated, as if she had it penciled into your shared calendar on the fridge. She slid her laptop across her desk, opening it again to turn her attention back to it like she hadn’t just fucked you in the exact same spot.
“Oh?” You dared to raise a brow in question.
“Yes.” She glanced up at you, “I want you ready and waiting. Naked. With that pretty pussy on display for me. And I want it absolutely soaking, am I clear? You go home and play with yourself, come as many times as you want, just remember I’m going to make you come so hard the entire block will know who you belong to.” Her eyes flicked up and down your body and you felt a shiver travel through you, “now don’t make me tell you twice or I won’t just tie you to the bedframe, I’ll punish you too.”
“Yes daddy.”
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Olivia has a special relationship with Y/N. The kind of relationship you have with someone you've known for years - since college, to be exact.
The kind of relationship you have with a first love, with that person with whom you shared a single kiss - but a kiss you'll never forget.
Y/N left college after just one year to join the army. She enlisted and left behind a young woman with a broken heart.
Over the years, there have been dinners at that Italian restaurant Olivia loves, bouquets of flowers delivered, letters that have traveled halfway around the globe, calls impacted by jet lag.
Y/N never expected anything from Olivia. If she'd imposed such a pace on herself, she certainly wasn't going to impose such a burden on a woman she'd always loved.
One day, after so many years, Olivia felt trapped in her own home. She has no one to call. No, she has no one with whom she can deliberately break down all those barriers she's built up over the years.
After a little wine, she gives in.
She calls Y/N.
She leaves a message on Y/N's voicemail, filled with tears, fear and disappointment.
Olivia knows that Y/N is probably busy, far from New York, far from her. She falls asleep out of pity on the sofa, her own arms wrapped around herself.
The next morning, around 6 a.m., someone knocks on the door. Olivia doesn't wake up immediately. The knocking becomes insistent.
summary — olivia had given up hope of ever getting stabler back in the squad, but then you showed up, and you’re not quite him, but you’re all the best parts
warning(s) — mention of undercover operations, blood and injury, past child sexual exploitation, reference to s10 e2 ‘confessions’, therapy, canon mental health struggles, bipolar depression mentioned, history of anxiety and depression, mention of canon character death, previous injury, shooting, alludes to past mutual romantic feelings between elliot and olivia, slight marital disputes/problems, hostage situation/negotiations, child endangerment, minor character death, gunshot wounds, stitches, mentions of domestic violence, ongoing domestic violence/sexual assault case, canon adjacent content, girl dad!elliot stabler, basically cool aunt olivia benson, angst but…not really angst
authors note — i was compelled to write stabler in some capacity and we ended up with this… very glad to have gotten this out of my system
In October of ninety-nine, a man had exploited you for the very first time in your life. You don’t know his name, or all of the details really, but you remember that your father had come home in a haste of emotional frustration and anger. He punched the wall. You remember how loud it sounded, how you’d cowered into Elizabeth and held your ears, afraid of his rampage. He hadn’t known you were listening. It was late. Elizabeth was only awake because you knocked on her door asking for chocolate milk, explaining through yawns that Kathleen had put the Nesquik powder on the highest shelf in the cupboards because she was mad at you — typical older sister retaliation throughout your childhood. If he’d known that your little ears were around, he wouldn’t have told your mother so bluntly with his back pressed against the counter and his head in his hands that some pedophile had blasted your third grade picture on his website for others to… you think the word he’d specifically used was ogle, but it hadn’t been in your vocabulary then, so in the years that it sat on your mind, you’d summarized it in other ways.
As you’d grown up, spending more and more afternoons at the 16th precinct because once you turned eleven you were allowed to walk home from school alone so long as you remembered to text your mother precisely when you stepped out of the middle school and when you once again stepped into the house and locked the door, the vague description of what happened sickened you.
You stopped by to see your Dad every day between those two events, usually with your water bottle pulled out of your backpack and uncapped. He filled it for you, and sometimes you could squeeze ten or fifteen minutes out of him before he turned you away, but those short few minutes every week opened your eyes to the reality of his world at work, to the world of Manhattan outside of your bubble of sunshine and rainbows. It only made you sicker over the potential of your picture situation.
When you were thirteen, you couldn’t take it anymore. One of your friends at school had come barging into the cafeteria saying that her sister’s best friend's cousin who lived in Minnesota — that had been a mouthful at the time and still was now — had her nudes leaked to myspace by her ex boyfriends. That brought it all back up. The sound of your father punching the wall, he’d kept you so far removed from violence before that point somehow. The way your mother had gasped at the news; laid her head down on his chest and wept. You know it couldn’t have been good, but you also couldn’t conceptualize what was so horrible about your school picture. Either way, the mental turmoil had rendered you nauseous and sickly by ninth period, and Olivia had come to save you when your mother relayed back to your father that she was stuck in traffic and wouldn’t be able to get you, so he’d sent her.
You’d cracked before she’d had the chance to ask you what was wrong, asking her through tears about the case from ‘99 that got your parents all rattled up. She told you, because Olivia never lied to you, and you’d told her that you were going to be sick after she explained why your school picture was so inviting to a pedophile. Your pigtails, pink bows to match your pink Ariel t-shirt, a purple skirt because it was a compromise made by your father who insisted you couldn’t actually wear your swimming pool tail to school even if the dress code was slightly elevated for pictures. He’d told you that it would perfectly match the color of her shells, and that everyone out know in their heads you were a real mermaid too. You’d picked into a bag they kept in the glove box of the squad car, and Olivia had shed a tear at a stop sign when she thought you weren’t looking.
That single moment had led you down a path nobody had anticipated — therapy, psychiatrists.
In ‘08, your sister had more or less spun out after getting into drugs and battling an undiagnosed mental illness. She’d tainted your family's reputation even if your father tried to pretend like she didn’t. You were in high school then, older, going to your own therapy appointments, taking your own steps to bettering your mental health. Her resistance had been like a bullet in the gut. She’d yelled insane things, pushed wild narratives and damaging accusations at Doctors just trying to help. It had taken a long time to forgive her for that, but it still lives all around you, even now, years later.
You creep down the hallways in the 16th precinct in Manhattan. They’re familiar, smaller than you remember them being as a kid coming to see your father and Mr. Munch, but familiar. They haven’t changed much at all, but then you step into the Sex Crimes hub, and it’s hard to imagine how it ever used to be laid out. Munch always yelled at you for hanging out on the stairs, but he knew he could always find you there, and when he did try to wrangle you into conversation with you and you weren’t in your designated spot, he panicked.
A pang of grief shoots through you. Munch. Mr. Munch, as you referred to him as a child. You hadn’t seen him much in the years that came after your fathers leave from SVU. You stopped by on your walks home from school for the first couple of weeks. Olivia waited with water for you instead. But then you stopped, and nobody could really blame you, and thankfully you’d found no reason to return as you grew up.
“You must be the new transfer. I’m Amanda Rollins.” A blonde intercepts your path. She’s perky, cheerful, radiant in a way that's impressive given the nature of her workload. Your father had never been any good at maintaining his attitude in this life, but you remember strikingly how Olivia had never held a candle to his impatience. She was impeccably reserved, though just as sharp and venous, perhaps more, because once she had unraveled, you’d reached a point of no return.
You utter your name, thinking nothing of your last, but then it dawns on you that she’s shared hers, and the southern twang in her speech is captivating. She’s not from here, and while you don’t assume that everyone will know who you are or have a connection to your father, it’s a very safe assumption that she genuinely has not heard of you once. “Stabler.”
A look of recognition dawns on Amanda’s face, but not anything significant to worry you. A few of the unís walking out to patrol had gawked at you like they couldn’t believe you’d show your face here, like the stories of your sisters epic crash out still lived out even with your fathers sacrifices and heroics to dissuade them. It doesn’t bother you like it had as a teenager, but rather at the fact that it’s years later and people still don’t recognize the validity of mental illness or have any kind of empathy for those struggling.
You hadn’t expected your first day on the job at Sex Crimes to be so emotionally provoking, but it’s been a while since you’ve been here, and nostalgia is a wonderful thing when you’re not face to face with active reminders.
“Stabler.” It’s a voice you’d know anywhere, and a radiant smile decorates your face as you turn to find Olivia, your new Captain. “Where the hell have you been, kid?” She asked with a breathy laugh, stalking near and going in for a hug, seemingly unphased by the box of your belongings that jabs her in what you can assume is her tit. You wince sympathetically, but still smile, because Olivia’s always had that effect on you. It’s been years since you’ve seen her, but she hasn’t changed a bit. You think if you get under her skin enough, she’ll even revert back to calling you that dreaded nickname she’d coined back in ‘07. Her familiarity and consistency is appreciated.
“High School, College, the Academy.” You prattle on, trying not to sound like your accomplishments were prideful, but you did find some level of pride in yourself when you’d thought about how much it had taken out of you to overcome what you had and get here. “ I did a year with Manhattan narcotics. The last six months I’ve been undercover.”
“That’s amazing.” Olivia gushes, her eyes reflecting her honesty. “Does Elliot know you’re here?” She asks, and you can’t decide if she sounds hopeful at the proposition of crossing paths with him, or just generally curious. After all, this job had done a number on your father.
“Um, not exactly.” You grinned sheepishly, and you’d been told often that you had his mischief. Olivia must still think that, because she scoffs knowingly. “I’ve been undercover, I think he’s undercover. There’s just not a lot of time for catching up. Mom knows though. She says that you’re welcome for dinner any time and you’re an idiot because you know that and still haven’t come out once in ten years. She says sorry for not coming out though.” You laugh, because the hypocrisy in your mothers rampage was comical, and she knew it. Benson laughs too, but it’s pained, and delusions from your childhood come rushing back.
You’ve always known that your father and your mother love each other. That wasn’t ever a question. The question was whether they were in love with each other. You know they’re not. Not fully at least. It’s never phased you. They don’t make it seem like it's a burden to be tied together by five kids and multiple decades of history and balance, and they definitely don’t seem to hate each other in the slightest considering they still sleep in the same room when your father actually stumbles home. But, you know that there’s very little keeping them connected the way they try to pretend like they are. You’d wondered for years what would’ve been of Olivia and your father if they’d ever really had a chance, not just been cursed to be passing ships in the night, best friends and nothing more. You’ll never know, or at least, you won’t anytime soon.
“Yeah, well.” Olivia brushes off your mothers apology because really she does understand. Life gets busy when there's nothing giving you a reason to stay in touch, and there hadn’t been any reason for her and Kathy Stabler to keep communication lines open when their common denominator was Elliot and he’d just up and left her. “I wasn’t aware that you were the new transfer. I can assume that was your doing?” She changes the subject and you’re grateful. It’s not that you don’t have anything to say to Olivia. Truthfully, you’re excited to finally have her opinions and her advice back in your life now that you can make better use of them as an adult, but this is work, you’ve never worked with somebody this woven into the make up of your being.
“Guilty.” Your tongue sweeps across your lip, a trait that your mother thinks you absorbed through osmosis from your father. Olivia can only think the same as she takes in your easy confidence, though it’s so much different than Elliot’s ever was, she sees him so clearly in you right now. It takes her back to the start, to nineteen-ninety-nine, Captain Cragen, and flip phones. It’s nostalgia that hurts, but she doesn’t want to go away. “Couldn’t risk it getting back to Pops.” You explain, and Olivia doesn’t question whether that’s the truth or not. She knows that within the first instance of Elliot finding out you’re working Sex Crimes, one of you is going to be getting a phone call and a fuming father already spinning out.
“Why’s he not want you on the job?” Amanda questioned, because to her, every father wanted their kids to follow in their footsteps, especially the ones in law enforcement; especially the ones who’d made a name for themselves and had earned titles and medals of honor since the start of their career.
“Because he’s an uptight, emotionally unregulated, asshole with a bleeding heart for most women and children.” You waved your hand, because as much as you adored your father and still thought the world of his accomplishments and ambition, you’d told him as much to his face once you hadn’t been so blinded by childhood innocence to see his imperfections. Your father was a doting, loving man, who was not afraid to put on a plastic crown and get on the floor with you after a day at work, but he was an emotional rollercoaster with broken lap bars. He pulled you along with him. When he was happy, the house was practically in harmony, and Kathleen didn’t hide things from you nearly as often, but when it rained it poured and it felt like a battlefield just sharing a shower let alone a single microwave. “My father loved this job, but this job ripped him apart until he damn near lost his mind regardless of his passion. He turned on Fin once, and then it was a toxic testosterone battle for a couple of months. I’m pretty sure he thinks being here is going to eat me alive.”
“Bastard did.” Fin huffed, remembering the small moment that had once seemed like an entire earthquake. It hadn’t crossed his mind in a while. He’d reconciled with Elliot because they were a family in this department, and that had been the end of it, but being so suddenly reminded of their rough patch had his eyes rolling and Amanda smirking. Olivia was trying not to laugh, because while she’d always been very kind in Fin’s regard about that entire situation, a toxic testosterone battle is exactly what she would’ve called it had she not been pinned in the middle of protecting professional peace. “Filed a transfer application and everything. Wait a minute, how’d you even know ‘bout that?”
A mischievous glint sparks your eyes, but before you can respond, there’s somebody yelling, and you only have enough time to register ‘shots fired downtown’ before Benson is cursing beneath her breath, yelling at you to go with Rollins while she and Fin go their separate ways. You know that the other members of the squad had trailed after you, trickling out of different rooms in the precinct at the announcement, but you hadn’t put names to faces nor even asked for names at all to put together who was who.
Your belongings were left on Amanda’s desk. You know it’s hers because she’d told you as much when she instructed you to ‘drop that there’. It didn’t phase you all that much to leave them behind on whim. The only thing in that box worth caring about is a picture of your father, Olivia, and yourself inside the precinct back in the early two-thousands. You can’t recall specifically what school year it's from anymore, maybe Kindergarten, maybe first, but you’re dressed up in the miniature versions of your fathers professional attire, one of his ties even hung around your neck to complete the look. You do remember that it had been career day, and you’d been adamant about attending as your father. You’d swung by after school with your mother to see him, and Olivia had fawned over your tiny plastic handcuffs and chocolate frosted donut hair clips that held the flyaways back from your eyes. That small detail had been your mothers creative touch, and it had your father in stitches for about ten minutes — it was a good day in your house that career day, you remember because you had pizza for dinner and Dickie practically broke his bedroom door down in excitement when Elliot shouted from the living room that he was home with the pies. You wish it would’ve been like that more often.
The cruiser with Amanda was comfortable. She took the driver's seat, as you anticipated given there seemed to be a personal connection to the supposed suspect if Olivia’s look of defeat was any indication after you’d gotten the announcement.
“So, you know who fired the shots?” You asked after a moment, not bothered by the silence, but wanting to prepare yourself for whatever you were about to step into.
Amanda sighed, “Well,” She droned, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel impatiently when even the lights and sirens on top of the squad car didn’t get traffic pulling out of the way. “About three weeks ago we got a case. Jennifer Moore, 27, reported a rape and ongoing domestic abuse. Her case went to mistrial last week. Benson’s been keeping an eye on her while the ADA prepares to refile charges, but she went dark two days ago. The address is the laundry mat they own.”
“So, she finally snapped.” You hummed, and Amanda made a sound of confirmation in her throat, aggressively swerving around a stubborn taxi who just wouldn’t budge enough to let you through the light. “You above yelling in Manhattan?” You asked on a whim, your head snapping to Amanda whilst your fingers toyed with the control panel on the door.
There’s a spark of amusement in Amanda’s eyes when she finally gathers what you mean. It becomes a full on smile when your head shoots out the window, half of your torso balanced against the door for support as you waved your arm. “Move it, before you’re my next stop!” It might’ve lacked the bite you packed in Brooklyn, but it was efficient, the taxi driver shook his head at you in something similar to disbelief as he slowly inched up and turned off a side street.
“I take it you’ve used that one a lot.” Amanda laughed, finally finding it possible to absorb the light energy of your mood.
“My old partner in Brooklyn. He was a real pill.” You rolled your eyes, and Amanda got the hint that while he might’ve been a solid mentor throughout your first year free from the academy, he was not an overall great guy. Nobody you’d be hoping to get coffee with at least. “He was a bit more colorful with it too.”
“You always know you wanted to work Sex Crimes?” She asks, taking a sharp right. Your body sways with the movement of the car just slightly, your core engaging to keep you from sliding. This is a practiced dance now, one that’s basically written in blood on your wrists.
“Yeah.” You tell her, not mentioning that you’d been tethered to this job, this field, this title since you were a child not even double digits. You can’t get the words off your tongue, but it doesn’t stop all the thoughts from popping up in your head — how many people had seen the picture when it was first posted, how many men had gotten off to your pigtails and Ariel t-shirt, how many still had a copy of it on a flash drive that they hide from their wives and their own daughters with Ariel t-shirts and drawers full of bows. No amount of years in therapy would ever cleanse you of the hypotheticals, and the unknown truthers hidden within those hypotheticals. You’ll never know the reach that man and his website had. You’ll never know what scenarios a pedaphile can construect in sixteen hours — that’s how long your picture had been up on the website before Cragen had demanded it be taken down. Your therapist had told you that all you can do now is move on, that you have all the tricks and tools to do so on your own, but it feels impossible to do that when there’s an inkling in the back of your head that every man you meet has seen that website, that picture, the article that laid the details of the case out clearly for anyone to see if they knew the perfect keywords to look up on Firefox. “Sex Crimes was always the goal.” You say instead.
“Narcotics your runner up?” Amanda asks, and at this point you’re almost certain she’s just trying to fill the quiet, consumed with guilt for letting this case go to mistrial to begin with. “When I was in the Academy back in Georgia, I had two plans, Sex Crimes or Organized Crime.“
”No, actually. It was a random selection excluding Sex Crimes. I told myself that I had to make it out of the Academy for an entire year before I could put in my papers to transfer. I’ve known Fin and Olivia my entire life. I don’t think they’d treat me differently because of that, but it was the mental gymnastics of combatting that and the lecture I know I’m going to get from my father that got me all twisted. So I worked the beat for three months, worked Narcotics for another three before they sent me under. When I came back I finished up my NDIT, practically threw myself into it actually, there wasn’t much I could do with a concussion and a stab wound to the gut. Let me tell you, six months undercover was probably the best test I could’ve put myself through. There wasn’t a day I didn’t want to pull myself out, it was hell, but I loved those girls that I was working with, and I wanted them out before I got to go back to my perfect little life. We got the sting, though. And well, now I’m here.”
It had only just dawned on Amanda how young you are. She’d gathered as much, but hearing that you’d taken your NDIT and passed after only a year out of the Academy was awakening so to speak. It took most patrol officers at least three years to meet the necessary qualifications to advance toward a promotion.
“My first day was a lot like this, you know. I came in with my box of stuff, ready to introduce myself, and SVU got called the scene. I met Cragen in the elevator, handed my box to some random rookie and had to throw myself into the case. It was… interesting. If you need anything, I’m here.” Amanda offered, and you smiled at her sincerity, watching her grip the wheel between white knuckles, the GPS telling you that you’re minutes away from the laundry mat. You’d probably be there already if people learned to have a little efficiency.
“Do you have kids?” You asked suddenly, because it was weighing on your mind. Her every little motion was so indicative of the fact that she’d learned what it felt like to have something to lose. Her hands held the wheel with practiced leisure, but enough precision to guarantee that she’d be able to take control if something spun out. She doted on you with warmth that was beyond kindness, twinged with something that felt like hope; hope that one day somebody would see her kids on their first day of work, and they’d take them under their wing because this world is hard and cruel enough on its own without unnecessary struggle.
Amanda’s lips quirk, and that’s all you need to know, but she opens her mouth, ready to tell you anything you want to know it seems, a radiant glow taking hold of her features as she thinks about the baby, or babies, she has at home. “Two girls.” She smiles, “Jesse and Billie.”
Your face contorts despite your will, but a tale of two sisters has always pulled at your heart strings, The Parent Trap the first instance of this happening when you were six and thoroughly obsessed with Hallie and Annie — enough to convince Kathleen to pierce your ears with a sewing needle and an apple. She was definitely only enough to say no, to redirect you to your parents and take every needle out of your sewing kit, but instead she’d laid you down on the couch and seen the plan through until you were sobbing, bleeding, and screeching for Elliot who was conveniently stumbling home from work at the same time.
“How’d you know?” Amanda cocks a curious eyebrow, muttering under her breath when you get stuck at another red light, a white mini van with its hazards on letting out three teenage boys with basketballs and backpacks. You couldn’t yell at that, because with one scan of your eyes you determined you were in fact in a drop off zone, and making her move would endanger the kids already on the street, and the ones potentially preparing to climb out of the car. Amanda seemed to relax too when she noticed what was unfolding, and you’re sure it’s an added relief that you can both see Olivia and Fin climbing out of their own squad car, approaching the laundry mat where a good number of unis and patrol officers gather. A knot forms in your belly. You already know this situation is more than you’ve been informed of.
“I double majored in college before I went into the academy. Forensics Science and Behavioral Studies with a minor in fine arts. My sister Kathleen hates when I analyze her, but it’s empowering to finally have a way to make her skin crawl after all these years.”
“Little sisters.” Amanda huffs and shakes her head like she knows this never ending dance. You’re both adults now. Kathleen has her own children, you have a career you’re happily married to. You don’t see each other very often, Christmas is the only guaranteed visit throughout the year, but you’ve never once lost your spark of sisterly mischief and competition.
“Anything else I should know about the vic?” You ask, and you don’t think for a second to call her — Jennifer — the perp, because until you know the full story, until you can see her with your own two eyes, this is just another instance of the legal system failing its people.
“Uh, got a real bleeding heart for kids. She was a school teacher, high school. Quit last year after she fell down the stairs and shattered her hip.” Amanda rolled her eyes toward you, finally inching up toward the laundry mat where it dawned on you that this wasn’t just an open shooting, but a hostage situation as cowering faces and heads bobbed behind the windows.
“Damn it!” You cursed, swinging the door open. The second your boots hit the pavement, you were in Detective mode, and Amanda observed the quiet shift in your demeanor with unease. It was slightly robotic, undeniably a learned skill through your stint undercover, but you’d been cleared time and time again by not only therapists and psychiatrists employed by 1PP and the state of New York, but also personal therapists. Amanda knows the drill, even if she’d never served so long under cover and couldn’t even stomach the thought of leaving her girls for that long.
“What do we got, Loo?” You called out, because in the two minutes that you’d been stopped at the light behind the minivan, Fin had walked around the corner on the phone and every uni on the block had cleared pedestrian traffic with a hand on their weapon cautiously.
“Eight hostages inside. One of the vics has a smart watch, Officer Jones over there is on the phone with dispatch. She’s texting 9-1-1 until we get hostage negotiation down here to tap the line. All cell phones were taken by the husband, not Jennifer, but she’s the one with the gun. There’s a little boy in the bathroom. Jennifer doesn’t know he’s there, and we don’t know if that’ll escalate the situation once she finds out, so we need to work quick before everyone in there dies.” Benson broke it down for you and Amanda, and your eyes flickered to Officer Jones, who was easily identifiable as he stood on the corner, just out of sight from the laundry mat, before they found Olivia again.
“I just finished a second round of crisis negotiation training with Narcotics.” You tell Olivia, because you don’t need to say anything else for her to know where you’re going with this. Even if you don’t have a direct line of communication to the hostages, you have one to Jennifer through the laundromat’s landline, if she picks it up.
“We can’t do anything until hostage negotiation gets here.” Olivia shook her head just as another gunshot went off, the sound of shrieking from inside the laundromat sparking your immediate attention. Olivia looks too, and you know she wants to send you in there, but she can’t, she won’t. Not only because you're Elliot’s daughter and you know she feels an immense responsibility to protect you if she can, but because you’re one of her men now, her Detectives to protect. She’s not willing to risk your life when the hostage negotiation team is minutes out.
They’re not even minutes out it seems, because as you turn away from Olivia, wanting to at least get a read on the situation through the windows, two white vans pull up, and men start jumping out. You can see the bigger vans starting to line the streets too. The black ones. The ones that carry sniper rifles and enough ammunition to take out an entire Rockefeller Plaza audience.
They get you on the phone with Jennifer just as another gunshot goes off, and you can hear indistinguishable shouting through the thin panes of glass before the line connects and the laundromat goes silent outside from the pants and hyperventilating of the hostages.
“Jennifer, this is Detective Stabler. Can you tell me what’s going on in there?” You asked softly, unassumingly. Jennifer takes a shaky breath, you can hear the safety slick on the gun, you assume she lowers it.
Somehow you end up inside the laundromat, Olivia holding your gun, Amanda holding your handcuffs because you’d taken them off in a haste, like you had experience with them leading to bad things in a hostage situation. You’d gone in with your hands raised, your face a mask of neutrality. Jennifer pulled you in with a cold grip on your wrist, and she held the barrel of her gun directly against your abdomen. A chill of fear ran through you, but you’d been in this situation a handful of times in the last six months, so long as everyone outside does their job, which right now is absolutely nothing, then you can do yours.
It’s a slow dance getting her to agree to let the other hostages out, but when you know that you have her in the palm of your hand, your fathers coaching coming back to you even if his motivator had been club softball and yours was life or death. He’d been preparing you for this all of your life, even if you didn’t know it. Because maybe you were just defusing arguments between eight year olds when he’d sat you down and told you that you never show your opponent anger or frustration unless you're prepared to be in the fight for the long haul.
You don’t let Jennifer feel your unnerved breathing against her chest as you tell her that there’s an eight year old boy in the bathroom, and that he really wants to make it to school next week because they’re having a class party to celebrate the end of state testing. It’s a total lie, but Kathleen’s kids have state testing this week in Queens, so you hope and pray that Manhattan isn’t any different, or that Jennifer won’t know if it is. She falters, and when you drive home that you know she would’ve never done this if she knew a kid was here, she crumbles just enough to have them all scrambling out into Amanda and Olivia’s waiting arms.
But then it’s just you, Jennifer, and her husband. You hadn’t seen her face when she pulled you into the laundromat. Her motions had been too quick, the change from bright daylight to dingy yellow lighting blinding you, but she steps just an inch to the left, and you see her reflection in the security mirror in the corner. Her eye is black and blue, swollen and leaking fluid. Her lip is split, her cheeks either speckled with red or dusted with green and yellow. There are marks around her neck, not handprints, but what you think is rope, or some kind of course material, perhaps a wool scarf not yet put away from the winter. This was a provoked event, even if it’s not a rational response, it was provoked, and you know that every nerve in Jennifer’s body is telling her to do it, to finish it, to finally free herself, because nothing else matters anymore.
You try to reach her, you almost do, but then her jackass of a husband who legally isn’t even her ex yet shouts a dumb remark, egging her on, like he can’t see that his life is so fragilely in the balance of seizing to exist in a single moment. Jennifer raises the gun. She shoots at him. Her arm drops right back down to where it was, the barrel pressed into your abdomen. In your head you know that this placement misses any major organs, but it doesn’t calm you down any.
Her husband doesn’t flinch, like he finds her frustration and simultaneous desperation amusing, but then there’s a look of horror on his face, a sharp sound piercing the laundromat. There’s shattered glass. Another gunshot. Jennifer’s dead. Her body slumps to the ground, a single hole in the center of her forehead — a clear exit wound. There was a second shot though, it registers when you stumble back, against a filing cabinet. You sink to the floor, your knees are weak, you can’t keep yourself upright. That second shot came from Jennifer's gun. The barrel smokes as it clatters to the ground beside her.
Her husband goes to rush for it, but Amanda and Olivia have already rushed in. Amanda takes him by the elbow, jerking him around without remorse until his hands are cuffed. She reads him his rights begrudgingly— because she’d already read them to him, that should’ve been the end of it, and Jennifer should still be alive and getting to tell people she found the strength to report her abuser and she survived.
Olivia checks that Jennifers dead, and then she yells for a uni to call the ME. She comes to check on you next, happy to see that your bullet proof vest hasn’t shifted out of position, unable to see the blood that leaks from just beneath where the vest ends, where there’s now a hole in your abdomen with no exit wound. There’s a bullet somewhere in your belly.
“I… I think she shot me.” You croak, because you’re not sure anymore, the world is fading in and out, Olivia’s voice is ebbing loud and soft. Her hands put pressure on your belly and you groan, your head thrown back. You cry out in pain when she eases you into a different position, one that opens up the wound area to her touch.
“You’re gonna be okay, honey.” She coos, her hands soaked in blood. “No, stay with me. Stay with me. Stabler!” The call of your name is an order, but you can’t register it as your eyes close and your consciousness slips.
When you wake, there’s a dull ache in your belly accompanied by the familiar tightness of stitches. You barely have time to come to terms with being awake when there are so many heavy drugs being pumped through your body when a large hand cups your cheek, warm and rough, calloused from years of holding weapons and wielding plastic lightsaber fights.
“Hey, partner.” A familiar voice coos, and tears prick your eyes in an instant as you recognize your fathers voice and his hand. You try to sit up, but he keeps you down, slowly standing up until he’s hovering over you on the bed, a hand messing with the hair on your cheeks that hasn’t been tied up.
As a kid, he always carried around extra hair ties. You have three older sisters, by the time you came around, he knew what to expect from long hair and windy days. He always corralled you into him, bear hands on your shoulders, his movement jerky even though he knew these steps easily. You remember how you used to bat him away as you got older, embarrassed by his willingness to be a doting father in public when you were approaching twelve, thirteen, even fourteen years old. You weren’t his last baby. No, baby Eli had to come around and steal all of your youngest of five attention when you were seven, but you were his last baby girl. You’re a grown woman, but you’re still just his baby girl. That’s something Eli never had going for him growing up.
Partner. Ever since that first career day when you, him, and Olivia had posed all cheekily near Cragen’s office, he’d taken to calling you partner. Olivia had always pretended to hate it, teasing you about stealing her spot, but you know she called you that behind your back. She saw you the most out of your siblings, none of them found an interest in your fathers career path the way you did, and when there was time for her to dwell on the more intimate connections of their relationship, you know partner was always how she brought you up. Elliot had told you that, finding it hysterical.
“Now what did I tell you?” He asks, and you knew it was coming, but there’s not even a trace of anger in his tone as he looks at you with damp eyes.
“You knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away.” You argue weakly, and all Stabler can do is laugh as he swipes his thumbs across your cheeks, collecting the tears that have spilled since you regained consciousness. “I’m sorry.” You croak, because even if you have nothing to apologize for, you still walked yourself right into the very situation he’d warned you about. Maybe it could’ve happened anywhere, but it happened at SVU of all places, and that felt like a horrible coincidence to carry on your shoulders.
“No, none of that.” He shakes his head, tells you that apologies are futile, you’ve already taken the steps to where you are, and there’s nothing that can ever take this moment back, so all you can do is accept it and move on. It reminds you of your therapist. You know he doesn’t even recognize it, but it dawns on you now how much he’s absorbed over the years trying to help you, to keep you from the path Kathleen paved with permanent marker and an excavator.
When Olivia came inside, looking like an emotional wreck if the swollen and discolored skin beneath her eyes was any indication of emotional state, your father suddenly thought to get you a snack from the vending machine — vanilla wafers because they’d always been your after surgery choice.
His palm swipes across Olivia’s bicep as he passes her, and she smiles over her shoulder until the door closes. Your hopped up on about three different pain medications and an antibiotic, mixed with adrenaline and exhaustion, you stand no chance of filtering your thoughts as you lay drowsily in the hospital bed, so when Olivia stalks close enough to sit down on the edge of your bed like she’d done when you were nine and had your appendix out on the day of your dance recital, you found yourself speaking without thinking. “Do you have a crush on my Dad?”
Olivia looks shocked for a minute, before a look of absolute amusement crosses her features and she shakes her head. “You’re feeling good on that morphine, huh?” She redirects easily and you hardly notice, bobbing your head as your eyes glance at the IV pole near your bedside.
“Can’t believe I got shot on my first day.” You grumble and Olivia laughs, because that seems like the only valid reaction after the day you’ve had.
“I’d say it makes perfect sense considering you’re a Stabler.” Olivia chuckles, and you have to agree, because your father was definitely not a man with a clear injury record on the job. “You did good today, partner.” She pauses for a moment, considers whether she’s going to say it or not, but the second she does your lips split into a wide grin, and there’s the slightest flicker of light in your eyes.
“I knew you didn’t hate it!” You bellowed, before you coughed, wincing in desperate need of a drink. Olivia rolled her eyes, wondering how somebody could be so eerily similar to Elliot Stabler, but so drastically different.
(I didn't realize how stressed this woman looks in every gif.)
Summary: It's been a minute since I have written Benson but I have been rewatching SVU and it feels like coming home after a long day. This reflects that
Warnings: N/A
Masterlist
1.1k words
~-~
You opened the door to the apartment, sighing at the familiar smells. It had been one week since you had walked through these doors. You had been traveling overseas to help your team compete in your most intense playoffs to date. It had taken a day to travel there, three days of sweat and tears, two days of well-deserved relaxation, and one day rushing to get home. It had been a needed break, and you didn't regret a single moment of it. Especially with the gold medal hanging around your neck. However, being away from your wife and son with barely any time for communication had taken its toll on you. It felt so weird to be so happy and so homesick all at the same time.
You could have asked your wife and son to pick you up from the airport. And they would have come with large signs and gifts but your teammate had wanted to drive you. It was your last season together before she moved cross country and you were cramming as many minutes together as you could. Now as you stood in the doorway eyes still puffed from crying in her car all you wanted was a hug.
Rounding the corner to the entryway, Noah launched himself into your arms. You almost stumbled backwards by the impact but laughed into his embrace. Your son always had a sixth sense for when you needed him. He was taller than you now but he still had his young boyish grin and would curl up on the couch with you to watch old Disney movies. You kept your arms tight around him cherishing every moment he showered you in his warmth.
“Welcome home Mama,” He said squeezing you, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too buddie,” You smiled.
“I got to watch all of your games this weekend! You did so good. I even recorded some stuff to show my friends back at school,” Noah told you excitedly before taking your bags, “Want me to go put these away for you?”
“Sure, Mom home?”
“Waiting in the living room for you. I'll start soaking your gear for you too Mama.”
“You really don't have to Noah. I can do it.”
But Noah merely shook his head, “I remember how you do it. Plus this stuff stinks worse than my room.
You laughed rolling your eyes saying an I love you as Noah set off to the laundry room. You walked down the hall and immediately locked eyes with your wife. She was lounging on the couch wine glass in hand with her feet kicked up on the coffee table. Her reading glasses pushed back her brunette waves and she was in her usual at home relaxing outfit. One of your favorite t shirts hung loose around her over a pair of sweatpants. Just her presence had you weak in the knees. Then when she smiled as she saw you her eyes sparkling you fell in love with her all over again.
“Welcome home mi armor,” She grinned, “I missed you so much.”
You walked to the couch placing a kissing on her lips. When you pulled back you removed the wine glass taking it with you as you collapsed on the couch next to her. You took a large drink before you placed your head on her shoulder. She curled her fingers through your open hand and squeezed gently. When she placed a kiss on the top of your head you felt the final pieces clicking into place.
“You have a good trip? I watched all of your games,” Olivia beamed.
“It was an amazing trip,” You grinned, “But now you got me daydreaming of the game pulled up in the bull pen and that is something I would have loved to see.”
“Oh I took pictures of it and everything,” Olivia said grabbing her phone.
She scrolled through a couple of photos of everyone gathered around the large tv. Your team was across the screen for the championship game. Noah was in a large bean bag on the floor a bowl of popcorn in hand. Fin was next to him handing him a soda. Curry and Bruno were sitting on the tops of desks leaning forward in anticipation. Even Rollins and Carisi were there sitting in chairs watching the action unfold. You spotted a couple of unis looking through the glass as well.
You let out a large laugh wrapping her arm around Olivia, “I can’t believe you did that. You are such a dork.”
“Only for my wife,” Olivia said putting her phone away.
She heart warmed as you settled further into Olivia’s embrace. You looked at the pictures that covered your living room. Twenty six years of your relationship in picture frames. Your first date back when Olivia had first become a detective and you had gone to celebrate with drinks. Another from your first apartment together after you had moved in on your third year anniversary. A couple of pictures from your travels when Olivia had went with the FBI and took you along with her. A handful more photos from your wedding Olivia dressed in a tailor tuxedo and you in a flowing dress. There were pictures from shortly after she had returned from Lewis’ kidnapping. Her hair was chopped short and the necklace you had bought her hung loose around her neck. You remembered those dark days before Lewis finally died where you thought you had lost Olivia forever but she had come back to you. Every nightmare and flashback you thought would tear you apart only brought you closer together. Then shortly after Noah came into your life and your whole world had been turned upside down. Now you were mothers raising a baby together navigating motherhood when your mothers had never been there for you. But as he grew into a stunning young man you didn’t regret a single moment of it. There were million of moments in between that existed in the photos and outside but you remembered all of them. Some were big and some were small. Some you didn’t appreciate while they were happening but now that they were gone you realized how much you cherished them. Everything about your life with Olivia was beautiful and you didn’t know where you would be without her.
“What are you thinking about sweetheart?” She asked pulling you from your swirling memories.
“You think we are ever going to get sick of each other?”
“After everything we have been through together,” Olivia responded glancing at your future and past unfolding in front of you, “I will never get sick you my love.I think that we will find a way back to each other in every life time.”
Cragen received a call about a new case—a group of teenagers claimed to have witnessed an assault in the park. He sent Olivia and Amanda to investigate. It was a late Saturday night, and both detectives were already frustrated when they discovered the call had been nothing more than a prank. What made it worse was that while they were wasting time, someone who truly needed help might have gone without it.
The teens, drunk and high, showed little remorse, so Olivia and Amanda began making arrests. As they rounded up the group, Amanda’s attention was drawn to a 16-year-old girl sitting alone on the swings. She was part of the group, but there was something different about her—she kept her distance, her expression unreadable. Unlike the others, she appeared sober.
As Amanda approached the swings, she takes a moment to observe the 16-year-old girl. She’s sitting alone, her feet lightly brushed the ground as she swayed back and forth. The girl’s expression was unreadable, and her posture suggested she’s withdrawn from the rest of the group.
“Hey. You look like you’ve got your head on straight. You part of that group?” Amanda asked, walking up as she crossed her arms.
She glanced over at the others, who are now being cuffed and readied for transport. The atmosphere feels tense, but Amanda’s voice remains steady, trying to gauge the girl’s reaction.
Amanda: “You don’t seem like you’re in the same... state as them. What’s your story?”
"Unfortunately I am part of that group," she shrugged her shoulders, adjusting her oversized dark blue hoodie. "They're my classmates."
Amanda nodded, keeping her tone calm and professional. "Yeah, I figured. Doesn’t seem like you’re on the same level as them right now, though. You’re sober, right?"
The blonde woman stepped a little closer, making sure not to seem too imposing, but her eyes stayed steady on the girl, trying to get a read on her. She noticed the girl’s disheveled appearance and the way she avoided making eye contact with the others. Amanda could tell something was off, but she doesn’t push—yet.
Amanda: "Look, I’m not here to make things harder for you, but this prank isn’t funny. It could’ve cost someone real help. What’s going on with you? You don’t seem like you’re into this."
"They went too far. Some of them are my friends but that doesn't excuse them for being dumb," she replied. "I tried to stop them but they wouldn't listen. We had finals and they got drunk. I guess it was the booze," the girl shrugged her shoulders.
Amanda nodded, her eyes scanning the girl's face for any hint of hesitation. "Finals can be stressful, but that’s no excuse for reckless behavior. You try to keep your distance, but it’s tough when you care about them, right? I know the feeling well." She paused, considering the situation for a moment before speaking again, her voice softer but still firm.
"Listen, if you ever feel like you’re in a situation where they’re pushing you to do something you’re not comfortable with, you can reach out. You don’t have to deal with them alone, especially if they’re making bad decisions," Amanda’s tone was genuine, offering the girl a sense of reassurance, even in the chaos of the moment.
"What’s your name?"
"Y/N," the teen smiled politely, lifting her head up.
"Y/N, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m Amanda," she gave a small smile in return, glancing over at the group of teens being loaded into the squad car, then back at the girl.
"You’re not like the rest of them, I can tell. If you need to talk or anything, don’t hesitate to reach out. I know this probably wasn’t how you wanted to spend your Friday night," she offered the teen a reassuring look before turning to the car.
"Wait- Uh- I- Can I go to the station too? Umm... I stole a bracelet from the store," Y/N stood up quickly.
Amanda raised an eyebrow at the girl's sudden admission, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. She could tell it’s a bit of a stretch, but she decided to play along for now.
"Alright, Y/N. We’ll handle that at the station. But, you know, I’m gonna need to see that bracelet first, right?" She gave a light, teasing tone, making it clear she’s aware of the situation, but still offered the girl a way out if she decided to come clean.
"Come on. Let’s get you in the car, and we’ll sort this out." Amanda said, turning to head back towards the squad car, her expression shifting back to professional as she prepared to bring Y/N along.
At the squadroom, the teen sat across Amanda, fidgeting with her fingers.
"I- don't have any bracelet- I just wanted to go with," she confessed.
"I figured," Amanda glanced up from her paperwork, her voice calm but with a hint of understanding.
"You don’t have to lie to me, Y/N. I get that things are complicated, but you don’t need to make things harder on yourself," Amanda leaned back in her chair, folding her arms as she looked at Y/N with a more serious tone.
Cragen stepped out from his office to the squadroom, turning to Amanda with a raised brow.
"Rollins, didn't know it was bring-your-kid-to-work day," he said sarcastically. "On with work, we got a new case."
Amanda didn't respond with anything more than a sharp nod. The shift in her demeanor was immediate as she moved into work mode, her posture straightening and her focus sharpening.
"I’ll be back soon. Hang tight, okay?" Amanda turned to Y/N for a brief moment.
She grabbed her gun and holster, slipping it on with practiced ease. The transition from the casual conversation to her detective role was seamless. The blonde walked towards the door, joining Tutuola as they head out to the new case, her thoughts already shifting to the investigation ahead.
It was late when Rollins and Tutuola returned. Amaro who was on desk duty approached Amanda.
"Rollins, the kid you got here?" Amaro said. "The squad wanted her to go home. She had an outburst and punched me. But I calmed her down. I decided to let her sleep in the bunkroom. She texted her mother saying she's having a sleepover with a classmate," he explained.
She exhaled, rubbing her temple as she listened to Amaro. Her exhaustion was clear, but the news of the kid’s outburst grabbed her attention immediately.
"She punched you?" She raised an eyebrow, glancing towards the bunkroom door.
"Damn… what the hell happened?" She crossed her arms, trying to make sense of it. Y/N didn’t strike her as the violent type, but something must’ve set her off. "Thanks for handling it. Did she say why she didn’t want to leave?"
"Beats me. She's asleep now."
Amanda knew she should’ve go home, but something told her to stay. So instead of heading out, she grabbed a cup of coffee—probably her third or fourth of the night—and settled into a chair near the squad room, close enough to the bunkroom to keep an ear out.
Every so often, she glanced at the door, listening for any signs of movement. The precinct had quieted down for the night, save for the occasional ringing phone or the shuffling of paperwork from the night shift. But Amanda’s mind wasn’t on the case they’d just wrapped up—it was on Y/N.
Something was off. Kids didn’t just refuse to go home for no reason. They didn’t just have outbursts at the idea of leaving. And they definitely didn’t fake stealing a bracelet just to stay close to a detective.
Tutuola had just finished with his paperwork, taking his jacket when he leaned towards Amanda. "Not going home...?"
The blonde sighed, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes. "Nah, not tonight."
She glanced toward the bunkroom door, then back at Fin, shrugging. "Figured I’d stick around, keep an eye on the kid."
She could see the way Fin raised an eyebrow, that knowing look he always gave when he wasn’t buying someone’s excuse.
You getting attached, Rollins?" His tone was casual, but he was watching her closely.
"Oh, come on. It’s not like that," she scoffed, shaking her head.
Fin studied her for a moment before nodding slightly. "Alright. Just don’t get in over your head."
"Please. When have I ever?" Amanda smirked, rolling her eyes.
Fin gave her a look.
"Okay, don’t answer that." She sighed, shaking her head with a tired smile. "Go home, Fin. I’ll see you in the morning."
He gave her one last glance before heading out, leaving Amanda alone in the dimly lit precinct. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment, before letting out a deep breath tapping with a pen on her desk.
"What the hell am I doing?" she muttered to herself, but deep down, she already knew the answer.
Amanda leaned on the desk, nodding off from exhaustion. It was late into the night when soft cries stirred her awake. She quickly got up and rushed toward the bunkroom. Inside, the girl was thrashing in her sleep, her fists punching and feet kicking the air as if she were fighting off some unseen threat.
Without hesitation, Amanda sat beside her, gently restraining her movements to keep her from hurting herself. Slowly, Y/N began to calm down, her breathing evening out, though she remained asleep, lost in whatever nightmare had disturbed her.
Amanda stayed still for a moment, watching Y/N's’s face twitch as the nightmare faded. Her breathing evened out, but Amanda could still feel the tension in her body.
"Jesus, kid… what the hell have you been through?" she murmured under her breath.
She kept her hands firm but gentle, making sure the girl didn’t hurt herself.
"Guess I’m not getting much sleep tonight," she muttered, adjusting the girl’s blanket before she went back to her desk.
Morning came, the squadroom filled with the usual hum of activity. Olivia walked out the elevator, raising an eyebrow at the blonde sitting behind the desk, her blue eyes tired as ever.
"I know how it looks, Liv. But there’s something off with this one," she stood up, stretching out the stiffness from sleeping in a chair all night.
With that, she headed toward the bunkroom, ready to see if Y/N was finally willing to talk.
"Mornin’. Sleep okay?" Amanda smirked slightly, sitting down on one of the bunkbeds across from the girl.
"Listen, Y/N. I know you didn’t just stick around ‘cause you like the décor in here." Her tone was light but pointed. "Something’s up. And I’m not gonna force you to talk, but if you do… I’m here," she leaned forward slightly.
"Yeah... Yeah I stayed for the décor, nice old metal bunkbeds and flourescent lights," Y/N replied sarcastically.
Amanda chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah, real cozy. Bet you’re dying to redecorate."
"Alright, smartass. If it’s not the décor, then what is it? You don’t wanna go home, you pulled a stunt to stick around, and you nearly decked Amaro when he tried to get you outta here," her tone wasn't harsh, but it was firm.
"Nearly decked? Did I really?" Y/N's eyes widened. "Did he say I did him good?"
"You know, avoiding talking about something usually means it’s a big deal," She lifted an eyebrow at the kid. "You’re good at dodging, I’ll give you that. But I’m not gonna stop asking. "Kid, this ain’t a hotel. You can’t just crash here whenever you feel like it."
"Fine- I'll get out of your hair, it's okay," Y/N stood up.
"That’s not what I meant, and you know it," the blonde stepped in front of the door, not blocking it completely but making it clear she’s not just letting her walk out without a word.
Y/N's eyes widened and she paused, sitting back down. Avoiding anything that got to do with opening up.
"I'm hungry," the teen said quietly fidgeting with the bed's duvet.
"Follow me, we've got some Chinese at the squad room. It’s not much, but it'll keep you from starving. Might be better than whatever they’ve got in the vending machines around here," Amanda winked.
After Y/N was full, Amanda surpised her with a fortune cookie. The teen's E/C eyes twinkled, as she opened it, reading the print out loud.
"Are your legs tired? You've been running through someone's mind ALL day along... That's too cliché," Y'N rolled her eyes.
"Accurate though," Olivia said, glancing towards Amanda.
"What's yours?" Olivia asked.
"Just when you think you know love, something little comes along and reminds you how big it is," Amanda rolled her eyes. "Good things come in small packages, right?"
"I hope you don't think like that about men," Y/N joked, earning a high-five from Olivia.
Amanda smirked at the exchange, shaking her head as she crumpled the fortune slip in her fist. "Alright, comedian. You got your food, you got your fortune, now you wanna tell me what’s really going on?"
Y/N chewed on the last bit of her food, her expression shifting slightly. "I told you, I just didn’t wanna go home."
Amanda leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Yeah, but why?"
Y/N exhaled through her nose, pushing her tray aside. "It’s not some big, dramatic thing, okay? I just… Didn’t wanna deal with my mom freaking out. She already thinks I’m a screw-up, and if she found out I got hauled into a precinct last night, she’d—" She cut herself off, clenching her jaw.
Amanda took note of the tension in Y/N’s shoulders. "She’d what?"
"Ground me forever," Y/N said quickly, but there was something off in her tone. She was hiding something.
Amanda wasn’t buying it, but she also knew pushing too hard would make the girl shut down completely.
"Alright," Amanda said after a moment, tilting her head. "Then call her. Let her know where you are, so she doesn’t start assuming the worst."
Y/N tensed. "She’s probably at work. She works a lot."
Amanda nodded slowly. "Okay. Works where?"
The hesitation was barely noticeable, but Amanda caught it. Y/N shrugged, eyes darting down to the table. "Just some office job."
Amanda exchanged a glance with Olivia, who was listening quietly. Olivia gave a barely perceptible nod—she picked up on it too.
Amanda leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now. "Y/N, look. I don’t know what’s going on at home, but if you don’t wanna be there this bad, I gotta ask… is it safe?"
Y/N flinched. It was a tiny flinch, almost unnoticable, but Amanda saw it.
And that was all she needed.
Amanda’s voice lost its teasing edge. "If someone’s hurting you, or if you’re scared to go home, you don’t have to handle it alone. We can help."
Y/N quickly shook her head. "No—no, it’s not like that. My mom’s just… she’s strict, okay? But she’s not—" She swallowed hard. "She’s not hurting me."
Amanda didn’t say anything for a moment, just studied the girl’s face. She could tell Y/N was lying.
"Go ahead," Amanda slid the precinct phone toward her, tilting her head.
Y/N picked it up, dialing the number with visible reluctance. Amanda and Olivia exchanged another glance as the phone rang.
The mother immediately picked up, Amanda's ears perked up as she listened.
"Y/N, I already said, you're not welcome home until you apologize to your stepfather about making up horrible lies about h-," the teen panicked and hung up, her head lowered as she felt eyes bore into her.
Amanda exchanged a sharp look with Olivia. That one sentence told them everything they needed to know.
Y/N, now staring down at the table, clenched her fists in her lap. She looked like she wanted to disappear.
Amanda leaned forward, voice calm but firm. "Y/N… What kind of 'horrible lies' are we talking about?"
The teen’s jaw tightened. "It doesn’t really matter."
"The hell it doesn’t," Amanda shot back, frustrated. "Your mom just told you not to come home. That’s not normal, kid."
Olivia, who had stayed quiet until now, spoke up gently. "Sweetheart, if you told her something about your stepfather, and now she won’t let you come back until you take it back… that’s a problem."
Y/N shook her head quickly. "No, I just… I said some stuff when I was mad, that’s all. He’s not- He’s not like that."
"Like what?" Amanda narrowed her eyes.
The girl bit her lip, realizing she had walked herself right into a corner with this one.
"You can say it," Amanda said, lowering her voice. "Whatever it is, you can say it here."
The girl's breathing was uneven now. She looked like she was fighting an internal battle.
"He’s just…" She let out a shaky breath, then looked up at Amanda. "He’s nice to me. Too nice. Y-you know- He'd come into my room and stuff..."
Olivia felt her stomach tighten. Amanda’s lips pressed into a thin line.
"And stuff?" Olivia asked carefully.
Y/N hesitated, then looked away. "I don’t wanna think about it... Let alone talk about it."
Amanda exhaled through her nose, nodding slowly. "Okay. But you know we’re not just letting this go, right?"
Y/N didn’t respond, just kept staring at the table.
Amanda stood up. "Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re staying here for now. We’ll figure out the rest later. But I need you to be honest with me, Y/N. Because if that man is hurting you in any way, I need to know."
Y/N swallowed hard, still avoiding her gaze.
Olivia stepped forward. "You’re not in trouble, Y/N. You did the right thing by telling someone. No one should be kicked out of their home for speaking up."
Y/N finally looked up at them, her expression a mix of fear and uncertainty. "...What happens now?"
Amanda and Olivia exchanged a glance.
"Now?" Amanda said. "Now, we keep you safe."
Y/N let out a bitter laugh. "Like what? CPS? Group home?" She shook her head. "I already know how that goes."
Amanda hesitated. She knew the system wasn’t perfect—far from it. The girl was 16, and the older a kid was, the harder it became to find a stable home. She’d bounce from place to place, or worse, end up back where she started.
The thought made Amanda’s stomach churn.
She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "You need a place to stay, right?"
Y/N finally looked at her, brows furrowing. "...Yeah?"
Amanda nodded, making the decision before she could talk herself out of it. "Then stay with me."
"What?" Y/N blinked, Olivia surprised as much as as the girl.
"For now," Amanda clarified, though even as she said it, she knew it wouldn’t be temporary. "At least until we figure something better out. You don’t have to go back to them, Y/N. I won’t let that happen."
Y/N studied her, searching for any sign of hesitation. But Amanda was steady. Serious.
"...Are you sure?" Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if she was afraid to believe it.
Amanda nodded. "Yeah, kid. I’m sure."
—
A few days later, Y/N was sitting at Amanda’s kitchen table, wearing an old NYPD hoodie she had borrowed to sleep in. Franny, was curled up at her feet. A plate of leftover pasta sat in front of her, barely touched.
"Still don’t trust my cooking, huh?" Amanda teased, leaning against the counter.
Y/N smirked, poking at the food with her fork. "Oh, I trust it… I’m just waiting to see if Franny suddenly drops dead after she stole a lick of that thing you call sauce."
Franny, as if on cue, let out a sleepy sigh from under the table.
"Wow. Real nice, you two," Amanda scoffed, sitting down next to Y/N.
"Look... I know you have a lot on your mind. And that's okay. But you're not alone now. And you can talk to me anytime. If it's about your parents or the weather. You're safe with me. You're home."
Rita Calhoun x fem!reader
Rafael Barba x fem!reader
Rita Calhoun x Rafael Barba
Pt. 3 of Lavender Haze
Warnings: language, alcohol, smut, teasing, dirty talk, minor kink talk, fingering, oral, voyeurism, masturbation.
Well we finally got to this point, there will be more pieces coming but I have no idea when lol. If anyone has any ideas on situations these three could get into in the future feel free to shoot me an ask/dm! <3
6.7k
Rita’s apartment was stunning, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you, everything about her screamed luxury and taste there was no doubt that would continue over into her home as well. Entry way leading into a large, shared dining and living room, floor to ceiling windows out onto a gorgeous patio, an archway off to the left no doubt leading to the kitchen.
Rafael had immediately sauntered his way over to the bar cart, a few cubes of ice and a pour of scotch for himself, a bourbon on the sweeter side for Rita and a glass of wine for you. More small talk, pleasantries, subtle teasing and a hint of dirty flirting was exchanged as the three of you got comfortable. Rita was beside you on the couch, her arm extended across the back of it while she played with the flowing curls of your hair, gently twirling them around her fingers. Every so often her nails would scratch at the back of your neck, sending shivers through your entire body as fire began to build under your skin. Rafael made himself at home in one of the chairs, getting comfortable as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, undoing another button or two as he settled into his seat.
“You’re such a sweet thing.” Rita murmured, her fingers playing with your earring before trailing across your jaw, turning you to face her as one finger curled under your chin. “I doubt you’ve ever done something like this before.”
“No.” You let out a breath of a laugh, “not really.”
“Never taken anyone home from a bar?” She asked, raising a brow and you shook your head.
“You ever let anyone else take you home from a club?” Rafael asked and your eyes drifted over to him, widening slightly at the hungry way he had been watching the two of you.
“Not a club like that.” You replied, fingers clutching your wine glass and when he laughed you raised it to your lips, hastily finishing it.
It seemed like now that you were out of the car, upstairs inside her apartment where things were definitely going to get intimate that you’d lost your voice. Back at the club you’d been vocal enough, able to avoid being the total center of attention thanks to all the other patrons, flashing lights and strobing bass. The car had the distraction of conversation, the radio, the lights of the city streaming by through the windows. Now there was no noise to hide behind, just the hum of the refrigerator and low glow of lamps in the room. Not that your lack of words mattered, they certainly didn’t mean you were no longer willing, you were entirely too interested, too curious and it appeared both of them were well aware of that.
Rita’s fingers twirled a piece of your hair that framed your face, letting it drop beside your cheek and you redirected your attention to her when she spoke. “Don’t let Rafael worry you, there’s no reason to be nervous darling.” Her curled finger brushed under your chin again, “there’s a first time for everything.”
“Have you had a threesome before?” Rafael asked, raising his glass to his lips.
“Once.” Your eyes flicked over to him lightning fast before immediately returning to the woman in front of you, “in college.”
“It’s worthwhile to know that we don’t really do them in a traditional sense.” She stated and your head tilted.
“Oh?”
A chuckle came from her lips as her thumb traced along your bottom one, “everyone might participate but not in the way you would think. It’s not a requirement for everyone to get off, or for the attention to be shared.” A puff of air mimicked a laugh, “in fact, it’s much more likely that we’ll focus our attention entirely on you.”
Your breath caught in your throat and Rafael had to hold back another laugh, shifting in his seat as he watched Rita lay the bait. Their dynamic always worked well, it shifted depending on the evening, who had a little more energy, who was more willing to tease, which one of them they thought their target of the night was more interested in. Though it was Rita who always preferred to play with her food before she ate and she always laid it on strong once they were away from the prying eyes within the club. She had a magic to the way she wove her words, knowing exactly what to say and how to couple it with a lingering touch on a certain spot of someone’s skin. The perfect head tilt as she asked a question, a cocked brow as she dared them to make a counter move, the corner of her lips curving upwards at the way one would melt from the touch of her fingertips. It wasn’t entirely unlike the way she moved through a courtroom and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t envious of her ability.
In situations like tonight, he knew that she had to take the lead, while she may normally be the more aggressive of the two in terms of getting what she wanted, there was a softness to her. An alluring quality that brought out a daring side to those who might be a little on the shy side, those unexperienced or perhaps a little nervous. Ones exactly like yourself, whose lips parted instinctively as she dragged her thumb across your lower one, whose breathing ability seemed to suddenly vanish.
“Are you interested in being our good little girl?” She asked and you instantly nodded, probably too eager for your own good. Her lips curved into a smirk, eyes barely leaving yours when they darted over to Rafael.
“Yes.”
Her thumb soothingly brushed over the crest of your cheek, “relax darling.” Her other hand gently plucked the now empty wine glass from your hand before squeezing your knee, guiding you to take a breath, “no one even needs to take off their clothes tonight.”
It was pure instinct that your eyes darted downward, examining the way the green fabric clung to her body, the pieces of skin that dared to peek out from under it. You lingered perhaps a little too long on the swell of her breasts and when your tongue darted out to wet your lips she chuckled again.
“Perhaps I should rephrase myself…there’s no need for you to get naked tonight. I can do plenty without your dress moving an inch.”
“That’s… fine.” Reluctantly you dragged your gaze away from the gold chain holding the slit of her dress together over her thigh.
“How about I get us started then, hmm?”
Rising from the couch Rita kept her eyes on you as her hands glided up her body, fingers slipping beneath the gold chain straps. Without even needing to be prompted, Rafael stood, crossing the space to her back, resting a hand on her waist while he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.
“Let me help with that.” He murmured, the scruff of his beard grazed against her sensitive skin and she shivered. Her body tingled when his hand loosely wrapped around the chain, knuckles brushing up her bare back before he undid the clasp. Leaning in again he kissed the back of her other shoulder before undoing that side, letting the front of her dress fall.
Rita’s eyes flicked open just in time to catch the way your eyes were darkening as they roamed her body, a heat creeping into your cheeks. Rafael’s hands hooked into the waist of her dress, dragging it down her legs and pulling it out of the way so she could step out of it gracefully, leaving her in only a pair of lace panties.
“Come here darling.” She crooked her fingers at you and in an instant, you were on your feet in front of her, unsure of where you should even place your hands.
A chuckle came from Rafael, and he reached around her, hands circling your wrists and tugging you closer to her, resting your hands on her warm waist. Rita’s fingers brushed up your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ear before cupping your face,
“You sweet thing.” She murmured, leaning in as she stepped forward and suddenly her lips were on yours.
The tingling beneath your skin suddenly sparked into a flame, your entire body aching for more than just a gentle kiss. Rita’s lips moved with grace against yours in a way that made you crave her, her thumb continued to softly rub back and forth over your cheek and it was the only thing keeping your head from spinning. Her arm slunk around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to her and your breath hitched at the feeling of her naked chest pressed against yours through the thin fabric of your dress. When her tongue slid across the seam of your lips you practically melted, immediately letting her into your mouth and she didn’t waste a second before starting to explore. She tasted like nothing you’d ever tasted before, tongue swirling along with yours as her hands began to ghost up and down your sides, a small groan escaping the back of her throat that you oh too eagerly swallowed down. Any piece of her that you could consume would never be enough to satisfy the cravings you knew you would have for every moment going forward. A gasp coming from your lips nearly dared to break the kiss when her hands found your chest but your fingers dug into her waist, keeping her as close to you as you could.
A large hand slid over yours, pressing it tighter to her skin and you could hear Rafael chuckle, the sound of his lips pressing open mouthed kisses to her neck. Her hands groped your chest as her tongue continued to explore your mouth, almost lazily dancing with yours as if she had all the time in the world. A finger and thumb on each side grasped your nipples, gently rubbing at them, rolling them back and forth between the digits before pinching sharply and this time your gasp did break the kiss.
Rita smirked down at you, the satisfaction building within her at the way your mouth had dropped open to pant, a near pout on your lips as you let out a whine. Rafael’s hand snuck around her waist, sliding up her chest before it began to mimic the movements she’d continued to make on your chest and she groaned, her head dropping back onto his shoulder. His free hand moved, tilting her chin up to him to steal a kiss and you watched as his tongue easily slunk into her mouth. Their kiss was different than the one you’d shared, messier, more carnal, breathless, parted lips panting into each other’s mouth.
“Fuck.” Rita hissed when he pinched her nipple, pulling away from the kiss as he smirked. She nipped his lower lip, a scold for the harsh treatment of her chest before she turned to you, “are you alright with Rafael watching?”
“Yes.” You nodded, surprised you were able to find your own voice.
Behind her Rafael stepped closer, rolling his hips against her ass and she chuckled at the feeling of his cock, hard in his pants.
“Are you alright if he touches himself while he does?”
Your eyes flicked over her shoulder, meeting his as he leant forward to suck on the nape of her neck, a brow raised in your direction. You felt your entire body shiver under his gaze, as if you were the one person who was mostly naked in the room instead of her and you nodded.
“Yes.”
Rita’s fingers pinched your chin as her lips broke out into a smile, “good girl.” Fingers tangled with yours, gently tugging you in the direction of the hallway, “come now. He’ll catch up.”
You didn’t have much time to take in Rita’s bedroom, aside from the king bed, lush duvet now pulled back to reveal what looked like the softest sheets you’d ever seen. Parallel to the bed, a large horizontal mirror ran above her make-up bench and you were starting to realize the mirror likely had a dual purpose. You managed to take in the large windows with sweeping city views before Rita’s hands were back on you, pinching at the waistband of your underwear through your dress.
“Now how about I get rid of these pesky things?”
All you could do was nod, your mouth too dry to even think of forming proper words as her fingers slipped under the hem of your dress and tickled their way up your thighs. If you had thought the image of Rita half naked was intoxicating you had no idea what you were in for as she dragged the fabric down your legs and all of a sudden was on her knees in front of you. With one hand she grasped your ankle, lifting your foot off the ground so she could guide you stepping out of your underwear before she repeated the action on the other side. Her lips pressed a tender kiss into your ankle before placing your foot back down, her hands sliding up your legs in a pathway that her mouth followed. She nipped at the supple skin of your inner thigh, her eyes not leaving yours the entire time, particularly enjoying the way your chest was heaving already.
She was more than well aware that if she snuck a hand underneath your dress, she would find your pussy soaked, aching to be touched and filled. But she didn’t want to rush it, didn’t want to have it be over before she was even ready. If she could drag it out all night and into the dewy hours of the morning she would, sunlight glimmering through the curtains, dancing its way across your sweat glistening skin as the sun rose and she got yet another orgasm from you. She couldn’t get ahead of herself, it was night one, a night for exploration, for testing the waters and giving you only a taste of what they had in store for you so that you would keep coming back over and over again. Yes, she would take her sweet time with you tonight, giving you just enough to make you come at least three times, but leave you aching to know what she tasted like, what her pussy felt like wrapped around your fingers or how stretched Rafael’s cock would leave you.
Rising to her feet Rita tossed your panties onto a spare chair before tugging you to her for another kiss, her tongue instantly dipping into your mouth. Behind you, Rafael settled into a chair across from the foot of the bed, getting as comfortable as he could as he adjusted himself in his pants. Getting to watch Rita in action had always been one of his favourite things, it was part of why they were still participating in hook ups like this after all these years, they both thoroughly enjoyed both putting on and watching a show. The way Rita’s hands caressed your body, how her lips moved against yours, the gentle way she peppered kisses to your exposed skin was just the opening act. Soon her hands would really be on you and what would be making Rafael throb were the noises you made, the way your body flexed and tensed under her touch and the sound of your pussy as it fluttered and dripped around her fingers. He already ached in his pants and he wondered if it would be too forward to pull his cock out right now, eager for the skin on skin contact. As if she could read his mind, Rita stepped back, her hand digging through the nightstand while her lips trailed down your neck and a second later, she had tossed his preferred bottle of lube to him. She raised a hand to him in a motion for him to hold off then returned her attention back to you.
“Are you ready darling?”
“Yes.” You didn’t want to wait another second; you were practically vibrating as it were.
With a chuckle Rita dropped down onto the bed, settling her back against the headboard and gestured for you to drape yourself between her legs.
“Face Rafael for me, won’t you sweetheart?”
You did as she asked, crawling up to her and turning toward the foot of the bed, nearly jumping when her hands hit your waist again, pulling you flush to her.
“That’s it,” her lips touched the side of your neck and you let out a breath, letting yourself relax as sparks started to dance under your skin. “Oh, you sweet girl,” her hands began to roam your body, cupping at your chest and you couldn’t help but moan, “don’t worry. We’ll take incredibly good care of you.”
Her fingers pinched your nipples through your dress, toying with them over and over again as you started to moan. First little whispers, barely over a puff of air leaving your lips until her mouth latched onto the crook of your neck and your eyes fluttered shut.
“Fuck…”
Rita chuckled, palming at your tits once more before her hands sunk down your body, “spread your legs for me.”
Her hands guided you, nudging your legs open as her fingers stroked across your thighs, coaxing you to truly relax and give in to the sensations building through your body. As she caressed your skin, your entire body slacked in her arms, your head back on her shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut and you let the sensations take over any remaining thoughts in your head. All that mattered was the feeling of her hands on your thighs, the warmth of her body against yours and the feeling of her lips on your skin. You felt one of her hands slide up your body, tilting your face up towards hers before kissing you softly, pulling back far enough for her to speak.
“Be a good girl and suck on my fingers darling, get them nice and wet for me.”
You didn’t even have to think before acting, shifting forward to take the digits into your mouth, wrapping your lips around them with a soft groan. Rita gently pressed them further into your mouth, watching with a small grin as your tongue lapped around them, you were putty in her arms and she was certain you would do anything that she asked of you in that moment.
“Good girl.”
Pulling her fingers from your mouth she pressed a rewarding kiss to the tip of your nose before her hand was back between your legs. This time though she didn’t waste any time, her fingers immediately sliding through your folds and your breath hitched as your body jolted. She rubbed you up and down a few times, spit slicked fingers smearing your saliva and juices around your entrance before her finger tips pressed against your clit and you squeezed your eyes shut again.
“Fuck she’s got a gorgeous cunt.” Rafael grunted from the foot of the bed.
Rita chuckled softly, her fingers moving in slow circles around your clit as her eyes flicked up to the mirror across from the bed. A small moan left her lips as she zeroed in on the reflection of your pussy, needy and dripping while she continued to play with your clit. Her teeth nipped at your earlobe, her nose nudging the side of your head to get your attention.
“Such a pretty girl.” She murmured, her fingers dipping between your folds, gathering more wetness while she watched you squirm through the mirror.
Her eyes only left the reflection between your legs to dart over to Rafael briefly, matching grins on their cheeks as he palmed at himself through his pants. Rita felt her own desire beginning to burn as her fingers pressed harder against your clit and your thighs twitched. Your pussy was gorgeous and felt even better rubbing against her fingers, she could only try to imagine just how stunning you must be when stripped naked. A small groan left the back of her throat at the thought of you spread out underneath her, wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts while she took turns with Rafael doing whatever they pleased to your breathtaking body.
When a soft moan left your lips again Rita’s eyes dared to look away from your pussy in the mirror and instead take in the expression on your face. Your cheeks flushed, teeth digging into your lower lip as your back arched in the same moment you attempted to push your hips up into the touch of her hand. She chuckled softly, pressing harder this time as she picked up the speed her fingers were rubbing your clit.
“That’s it darling…” she purred, “that feels good, right?”
“Y-yes.” You mewled, your body shivering when she pulled her fingers back for only a second to gently spank them against the pulsing nub. “More, please.”
“Not yet.” Her lips brushed the side of your neck, “you’re going to come just like this before I get my fingers inside that dripping pussy, understand?”
“Mmhmm.” Nodding the best you could, your eyes fell shut again, letting your body give in to the shockwaves of pleasure that were drifting through your body.
With each pass of her fingers, Rita pressed harder, moved them faster and right as your legs began to tremble, her mouth latched onto the crook of your neck. She groaned into your skin, her free hand pinching your waist through your dress before sliding upwards to play with your chest. One hand steadily moving between your legs the other groped your tits, pinching your nipple, rolling it between her fingers. Her lips moved on your neck in the same way she ached for them to mouth at your chest, mimicking the sensation and matching the timing between all three points of contact she had on your body.
“Oh fuck…” you muttered, your body shivering against Rita’s as your pussy fluttered around nothing, wetness seeping out between your folds.
It only took a few more seconds, Rita’s teeth sinking into the crook of your neck and you cried out as your orgasm washed over you. Your thighs squeezed around her wrist, twitching and spasming while pleasure coursed through you.
“That’s it…” she murmured, “such a good girl for us.” Her fingers dared to slow, “so pretty when she comes.”
“Fuck.” Rafael practically growled from his spot at the end of the bed and your eyes flew open at the sound of his belt clinking.
He dragged down the zipper of his pants, shoving them just far enough down to be able to pull his cock out, hard and heavy in his hand, pre-cum leaking from the tip. He smeared it over the head, rubbing at his length before popping open the bottle of lube and dripping it into his palm so he could easily stroke himself. The sight was mouthwatering and you felt the need pulse through you once again, a tiny whine escaping through your open lips.
From the spot she was still latched onto the side of your neck, Rita’s eyes opened at the sound, her lips curving into a grin when she saw what you were watching. A wave of arousal seeped its way into her veins and she knew for certain that her panties were ruined by now. She watched as Rafael’s fingers squeezed around his cock, a low grunt coming from the back of his throat as his head dropped back to expose the column of his neck and she felt the craving to sink her teeth into it as well. He groaned, thrusting harder into his hand this time and you let out another whine, attempting to rub your thighs together to relieve the building pressure.
Rita chuckled darkly, her hand returning to its spot between your legs, lazily rubbing at your pussy.
“You like what you see, hm?”
“Yes.”
“I bet you’d love to know what his cock feels like buried in this tight little pussy, wouldn’t you?”
“God yes.” You groaned, clenching around nothing as you trembled.
“You’ll have to wait darling girl,” she bit your earlobe, “I want to feel you squeezing around my fingers first. How does that sound?”
“Good.” Your head twisted up to face her and she smiled down at you, humming softly before pressing a kiss to your lips.
Timing it perfectly, Rita slid two of her fingers into your dripping cunt in the same moment her tongue slid into your mouth. You couldn’t help but groan into her mouth, your pussy clenching around them already, slick with spit and your arousal. She sunk her fingers in slowly as her tongue swept through your mouth and you were intoxicated under her spell in a heartbeat.
Rafael watched, squeezing tighter around his cock as Rita set a steady pace, her fingers pumping in and out of your cunt with ease. Your body was already shivering in her arms, little trembles moving through every inch of it all the way down to the tips of your toes. He could see the wetness seeping from between your legs, more of it coating Rita’s fingers each time she pulled them out and his cock throbbed in his hand, aching to be plunged into your pussy.
Your walls clenched down on Rita’s fingers and you broke the kiss with a gasp, “oh fuck!”
“You like that darling?” She asked, a devilish grin on her cheeks, “like being stuffed with my fingers?”
“Mmhm!”
“That’s what I thought.” She slipped them out of you, chuckling when you let out an impatient whine.
This time her whole hand slid down the length of your pussy, pressing into your puffy lips and slowly dragging back up until the heel of her hand was grinding into your clit. Your hips eagerly rocked upwards into the touch, rolling in the same rhythm as she continued to rub you. After a few more passes, when the whimpers were starting to work their way from between your lips she lifted her hand, tapping her fingers against you in one sharp movement. When you gasped, your hips twitching up toward her she did it again, this time just the slightest bit harder and then once more where her hand landed on your clit.
“Fuck!”
“You like having your pretty pussy spanked?” She asked, her eyes dark.
“Yes.” You groaned, body jumping when she did it again.
“Has anyone ever done this to you?” Rafael asked, his voice husky.
“N-no.” You managed to shake your head, your entire body twitching when Rita spanked your pussy again.
“Sweet girl has so much to learn.” She cooed into your ear before her fingers plunged back into you and you cried out, pussy fluttering around them. She thrusted them a few times before curling them, dragging the tips of her fingers back and forth over your inner walls until your breath caught in your throat and she chuckled darkly. “There we go…” she tapped her fingers against the spot again and you groaned, wetness seeping down her wrist. “What do you think darling? Can you take three of my fingers?”
“Shit…” Rafael swore from his spot, his cock unbelievably hard.
“Mmhm.” You nodded, “please… please! I can take it.”
“Good girl.”
After leaving a kiss on the side of your head Rita sunk another finger into your dripping pussy, plunging it in with ease alongside the other two. Your body tensed, your back arching off her as your thighs shook. Three of her fingers was the most delectable stretch, your pussy pulsing and clenching down around them, your body shaking and tensing each time she pushed against the sensitive spot inside you. It only took her a couple more passes before her entire hand was drenched with your arousal, slick and sticky. Her eyes met Rafael’s across the room and he groaned, his hips jumping out of the chair.
“Make her come.” He pleaded, cock straining in his hand.
“Will you come for us darling girl?”
Her voice was hot on the shell of your ear as her fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, her free hand quickly sneaking down your body to join it. Right as you thought you were able to hold back a few seconds longer, hold on to the current pleasure firing its way through your body her fingers pinched your clit and you cried out. Whimpers turned to strangled moans as she rubbed at your clit, harder and faster with each pass over and she had you shaking in her arms in only a matter of seconds. Your cunt squeezed around her so tightly she could barely move her fingers, juices gushing out around them.
“Fu-uuck!”
“Christ.” Rafael dropped his hand from his cock, knowing that if he kept stroking himself, he’d make a mess of his pants at this point.
Rita shifted her hands from between your legs, one rubbing soothingly up and down your side while the other three fingers slipped from inside you. She raised them to her mouth and you watched with hooded eyes as her lips wrapped around them and she groaned, her eyes fluttering shut as you caught your breath. Her tongue swirled around them, sucking all of your essence up until they were clean.
“God and you’re so sweet too darling.”
“Shit, sweetheart.” Rafael groaned, pushing himself off the chair when you looked his way, watching him crawling onto the bed, “can I taste you?”
“Yes.” You managed to nod, your chest still heaving, “please.”
Practically diving onto the bed between your legs Rafael’s hands slid up your thighs, keeping them spread wide for him as his mouth connected with your pussy. One of your hands grasped at Rita’s, the other clenching into the sheets while his tongue licked through you, flicking your clit and your hips jumped off the bed.
“Oh my god…” you groaned, fingers tightening on their holds.
Rafael wasted no time, kissing and mouthing at your cunt, savouring every drop of your juices as they smeared over his tongue, Rita hadn’t been kidding. He could barely hold back the groans as he ate you out, nose brushing your clit and his hips grinding into the bed. The scruff of his beard scratched against your inner thighs and you never wanted the sensation to stop. Your hips bucked up when his tongue dragged over your clit again,
“Please!”
A huff of air escaped his lips, blowing hot over your skin as he chuckled, eagerly wrapping his lips around the pulsing nub of nerves. As he sucked it into his mouth, letting his tongue dance across it he brought a hand between your legs, slipping a finger into your pussy and neither of you held back your moans. You were so puffy and sensitive, walls fluttering and lips drenched, even after Rita had her time with you your walls still clenched down around only one of his fingers.
Rita’s hands returned to your chest, “come on darling. Let Rafael see just how incredible you feel when you come.”
He was practically humping the bed, grunting and groaning between your legs as his mouth continued to move against you, finger thrusting in and out. Each time he pulled it back he bent it, his knuckle dragging over the now far too sensitive spot inside. Your pussy pulsed around him as your thighs began to shake, the fingers of his free hand digging into the tender flesh. A string of unintelligible shaky words came from your lips before your entire body tensed and your third orgasm of the night was bursting through you.
“Good girl.” Rita cooed, leaving a gentle kiss on your temple while one hand soothed up and down your side and the other held yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
Rafael let out an exaggerated groan between your legs causing your body to shudder again before he reluctantly pulled away. Avoiding your clit his tongue slowly cleaned you, lapping all the sticky mess from your skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to your thighs before finally he sat up, tucking himself back into his pants as he slid off the end of the bed.
A moment later and he reappeared with two washcloths, one damp that he gently wiped between your legs to properly clean your juices. You let out a soft hum in appreciation as Rita’s fingers continued to trace patterns onto your arms and softly scratch at your scalp. Her lips left gentle kisses along the spots her teeth had hungrily sunk into earlier as if it was an apology for losing control during the heat of the moment. The dry cloth then replaced the wet one, wiping any remaining dampness away and Rita guided you to lift your hips so she could tug the hem of your dress back to where it belonged. With a soft sigh she nudged you from her lap, sinking down into the bed beside you with an arm draped over your waist and she left a tender kiss on your lips.
The bed sagged on your other side and you felt Rafael slink up behind you, curling himself around your back before leaving a kiss on your shoulder. His warm hand resting on your hip, squeezing affectionately as your breathing finally evened out and you were able to return back to earth. Your eyes flicked open, looking over Rita’s shoulder and they widened when you noticed the time.
“Shit.” With a mutter you pushed up to sitting, “I’ve got an early brunch, I need to get going.”
“No worries.” Rita chuckled, swinging her legs off the bed as she first picked up her phone and then swiped a silk robe from a doorknob, “I’ll have a car downstairs right away. Take your time to freshen up.”
She padded out of the bedroom towards the kitchen while you darted into the bathroom and by the time you’d gotten yourself comfortable again she was meeting you in the entryway with a bottle of water in her hand. Pressing a soft kiss to your cheek she handed the beverage to you and you quickly said your goodbyes before you disappeared through the door.
Pausing in the kitchen to grab another bottle and scooping up her abandoned bourbon she sauntered back to the bedroom, passing the water off to Rafael who’d stripped down to his briefs. She turned to her make up vanity, taking out her earrings and placing them in the box before she met Rafael’s eye through the mirror. He’d stood from the bed, crossing the room to her and suddenly his hands were on her waist, his lips on the crook of her neck.
“Please don’t tell me you’re done for the night.”
Chuckling she let the robe drop from her shoulders, “like I can’t tell your cock is still rock hard in your pants.” She turned, her hand slinking between their bodies so she could palm at him, “your own hand was never enough, was it?”
Rafael groaned, his cock twitching in her hand as his forehead fell to her shoulder, “as if you aren’t absolutely aching right now.” He countered, “your underwear has been ruined since you got her on the bed.”
“If you think I’m about to beg for it, you’re sorely mistaken.”
Lifting his head he laughed heartily, unable to control the way his hips thrusted toward her hand, “please, I know you better than that. So can I fuck you or are you kicking me out?”
“Now… I’d be a poor host if I did such a thing.” She practically purred, her mouth dropping to his neck, teeth scraping over his skin.
“Get over here.”
A strong arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her toward him as their lips met, all fire, teeth and tongues. If they weren’t both so incredibly pent up and not willing to wait there would have been a battle for dominance, a fight to see who would come out on top and who would be the one whimpering to be fucked. There was no time for teasing tonight, both already on the precipice as breathy moans left one set of lips and were instantly swallowed down by the others.
Rita collapsed onto her bed, yanking her panties off as Rafael shoved his remaining clothing to the floor, crawling onto the bed. His hand met her waist and in one swift motion pulled her to him and slid his cock into her dripping cunt. Mutual moans of pleasure began to bounce off the bedroom walls as he dropped over her shoulder and her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Fuck.” She groaned, pussy squeezing around him already “harder.”
He did as she asked, thrusting with more power this time, sending both of them inching up the bed, “shit. I forgot how good you feel.”
It somehow felt like it had only been a second and also like it had been an hour, Rafael already panting, trying to hold himself back as he left messy open mouth kisses on the crook of her neck. Rita retaliated by clawing at his back, nails digging into his blistering skin and they both knew there would be marks in the morning. In that moment neither of them cared, chasing their combined pleasure was the only thing that mattered. Rita felt a spark shoot low in her body and started to slink her hand between the two of them only for Rafael to slap it away, pinning her wrist to the bed.
“Absolutely not.” He groaned, cock throbbing inside her, “just ask. I know how you like it, remember?”
His hand continued the path she had been on, quickly finding her clit and rubbing the pads of his fingers against it in the perfect way no one else ever seemed to figure out. She let out a gasp, her back arching off the bed as she constricted around him and the hand he was using to pin hers to the mattress inched up, threading his fingers through hers to give her something to squeeze.
“Oh, fuck Rafa… fuck.”
“Please tell me you’re close.” He grunted and she nodded, her nails digging deeper into his skin.
Her pussy pulsed around him again and again until her legs were shaking around his waist and it was his hands digging into the sheets, squeezing her fingers while his hips faltered. With a stifled grunt his vision went white and he was spilling inside of her, finally letting the pleasure that he’d been holding off all night coast its way through his body.
“Shit.” He mumbled, his body slacking as Rita’s hands gently ran up and down his back. This time her nails only tickling into his skin, finger tips softly stroking over the already tingling marks from when she’d hit her peak. “Sorry, should’ve asked.”
“Not enough time, I get it.” She murmured back, her lips brushing his shoulder, “where’s that cloth?”
Rafael sat up, grabbing the cloths as he eased his cock from her, catching the leaking cum on one while wiping himself with the other. Once he was certain the sheets wouldn’t need to be changed, he climbed off the bed to head into the bathroom. By the time he was back, Rita had strewn the robe open over her frame again and was perched in the window, lit cigarette between her lips.
“That’s a nasty habit you know?” He commented, bending down to scoop up his clothes as he began to get redressed.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she took a drag, blowing the smoke out the window, “as if you weren’t plowing through cigars with Henderson last week.” She stuck her hand out the window, tapping the smoke to get rid of the drooping ash, “I rarely have one, just after good sex. You should be taking it as a compliment.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes as she smirked across at him, “you always do have more fun dragging things out.” He stalled with his shirt halfway up his arms, glancing from the bedside table to Rita to the hallway, “wait… neither of us gave her our number.”
Rita laughed, shrugging a shoulder, “if she wants a second taste she knows where to look.”
x f reader:
Contagious
Unforgettable
they both take you home (feat. Rafael Barba)
x Casey Novak:
Unwelcome Guests (feat. Cabenson)
Night Nurse
Something Special
36 Questions - Chapter 1
Gentle
An Alternate Night
Target?
Getaway
Great Minds
As If By Magic
The Prettiest View (feat. Rafael Barba)
The Pact
Red, White and Blue
So Obsessed (feat. Alex Cabot)
You're My Babygirl [WIP]
You've Got Time
Margarita Decides To Die
Sounds of Suburbia
Nolite Te Bastardes Carborundorum
Never After
Sapphire
Drive Me Mad
Passing Through
Happy Birthday, Love (feat. Cabenson)
Twenty-Six Acts
Just a Bad Dream
Softly
x Rafael Barba:
Who's Your Daddy?
Can't Quit You
x Olivia Benson:
Stay With Me - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Your Voice
Goddess
Frozen
Seen That Same Look in Your Mother's Eyes
misc. pairings:
Ray of Sunshine (x Amanda Rollins)
Show Me The Ropes (x Amelia Chase)
Raf and Rita take care of you after your night together
Pairing: Rafael Barba/Rita Calhoun/f Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Tags and Warnings: polyamory (poly!barhoun), referenced/implied smut (minors DNI), fluff, aftercare
Notes: inspired by After The Threesome, They Both Take You Home by Sue Hyon Bae. Originally published October 2023.
[View on Ao3]
The few moments of silence immediately after were always blissful. Still basking in each other’s glow, but not long enough to let it be awkward.
Out of everything that just happened, it was her smile as she lay quietly beside you that stunned you, lying on her side and staring deep into your eyes.
“You okay?”
[Continue on Ao3 or Keep Reading below]
You let out a satisfied sigh. “That was amazing.”
You felt his warm hand on your arm on the other side, laying gentle kisses across your shoulder, still trying to catch your breath just a little. She traced gently along your jaw to your chin with her finger, the light grazing of her nail sending chills down your spine.
“And you’ve really never done that before?”
“Nope.” You replied, popping the ‘p’ in a way that made her chuckle lightly.
“Couldn’t tell.” She spoke softly, still smiling and cupping your chin to guide you closer to her again, giving you a soft peck on the lips.
“You guys want something to eat?” He asked over your shoulder.
“God yeah, I’m starving…” She nodded over to him. “I’m sure you could use a break though, why don’t we order in? There’s gotta be somewhere still delivering?”
“Let me check…” He got up from the bed with a huff. “How about you, [Y/N]? You want something to eat?”
“Oh, uh…” You sat up on the bed, resting against the headboard. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t wanna intrude. I’ll uh, I’ll just get dressed and call a cab—”
You moved to get out the same side as him until you felt her grasping gently at your arm, guiding you back to the bed.
“You’re not intruding, darling.”
“This is your night, too.” He concurred, pulling on a fresh pair of boxers and picking up his phone.
“Please, stay a while at least. We’ll have some food, then we can take you back home?” She rubbed up and down your arm reassuringly.
You looked a little nervous before giving a meek nod. “Okay, sure… Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
“Chinese is still open.” He announced from across the room. “Sound good?”
“Sure.” She responded while you simply nodded again. “Usual for me. [Y/N]?”
“Uh, veggie lo mein…”
“Sure thing…” He started to type away on the screen.
“What do I owe you?” You asked.
“Our treat.”
“Oh, I can’t let you do that, Raf—"
“Darling it’s the least we can do…” She got up from the bed and opened the closet, pulling out some sweats and a fluffy towel. She walked back over to the bed and handed the towel to you, leaning over onto the bed as she spoke. “Why don’t you take a shower, then the food should be here after you’re done?”
You held the towel curiously, feeling the soft cotton between your fingers. “Oh, uh, okay.”
She tilted her head at you. “You sure you’re alright?”
You took a breath. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Thank you, Rita.” You got up from the bed and wrapped the towel around yourself. “Bathroom’s down the hall, right?”
“Right.” She smiled.
A waterfall shower head, floor to ceiling marble, everything about their bathroom was as decadent as they were. You stood under the warm water, allowing it to flow gently over your skin. Even the floral soap was gentle, and you realised where her intoxicating scent came from.
The last few hours replayed in your head, their hands all over, so gentle in their sharing of you. It was a new experience, and you never expected their going the extra mile to make sure you were still comfortable. If this were anyone else, you would have been much more persistent in making your excuses, some polite small talk while you got dressed again, maybe a glass of water while waiting on a cab if you were lucky. But something kept you here, these two seemed intent on making you feel good, even after the deed was done.
You took a deep breath, allowing the steam to clear your lungs, and your mind, before stepping back out, turning off the water and wrapping yourself up once again. You made your way back to the bedroom to see your clothes had been scooped up from the floor, in their place a fresh set of sweats sat folded on top of the vanity for you.
You got changed and padded through to the living room, where you could hear the gentle noise coming from. The two of them had also changed into comfy clothes, takeout containers laid out across the coffee table. They were huddled close while they scooped food onto their plates, still giggling and whispering sweet nothings to each other. It made you pause in the doorway, almost melancholic, you just wish you had that for yourself—
“Hey, [Y/N], come join us…” Rita held her hand out and beckoned you over, handing you another plate and nudging the unopened container towards you. “Hope you’re hungry, we got too many appetisers, again.” She shot a knowingly playful look towards Rafael before she placed a few mini egg rolls on your plate.
“So whereabouts do you stay?” He asked you through a mouthful of beef and broccoli.
“Uh… Flatbush…” You mumbled quietly as you scooped up some noodles.
“Where, sorry?”
You cleared your throat. “… Flatbush. Brooklyn.”
They exchanged a brief look. They maybe thought it would be brief enough for you to not notice, but nothing got past you.
“I know it’s far, I’m still happy to get a cab—”
Rita brought her hand over to reassure you, again. “No, no. We said we would take you home, and we will.” She rubbed her thumb over the back of your hand before bringing it back to balance the plate on her lap.
“We would’ve let you stay, but we’re both in court in the morning.” He said, offhandedly, but that stopped you in your tracks, widening your eyes in horror.
“… Court? What did you guys do?!”
“You mean what did her guy do?” Raf nodded to Rita, pointing with his chopsticks, but their clearly insider joke only confused you more.
She turned to you at your lack of response. “We’re attorneys, darling.”
“… Oh.” The realisation hit you, why their place was so nicely furnished and decorated. “So do you guys run like a firm together, or something?” You finally got a mouthful of food in, your chopsticks just not playing ball tonight. Nothing to do with your lack of skill with them, of course.
Rita patted you briefly on the lap before getting up from the couch, leaving Raf to answer as she padded through to the kitchen.
“She’s in defense, I work for the DA’s office downtown.”
“That’s gotta be tough, being on opposite sides—?”
“We make it work…” Rita called back through before sitting down beside you again. She wordlessly passed you a fork and you laughed a little before accepting.
“Thanks… So if I ever find myself in trouble, I know who to call?” You quipped.
“For you, I’d even do it pro bono.” She winked before picking up her plate again, adding another couple of crab rangoon on there. “So what is it you do?”
“I’m a bartender, out in Williamsburg.”
“Wish we’d known, we could’ve met you halfway.” She chuckled.
“Well we know for next time…” You distracted yourself with another mouthful of food, leaving your comment to hang in the air, letting them decide if it was meant to be interpreted as sarcastic or hopeful.
It wasn’t awkward, for some reason. So comfortable in each other that they continued to joke around with you, sharing more about each other than you did on the dating app. Normally seeing couples on there was an immediate left swipe, but these two intrigued you, and you were so grateful to have taken the leap with them in particular.
You even felt a little guilty for the couple shots of Dutch courage you took before you got there, arriving to find them stone cold sober and ready to talk boundaries. First time nerves were understandable, they reassured you, and even though they seemed well versed and had clearly done this before, they still took the time to guide you through, showing you just what made the other tick while also making sure you were well looked after, too.
You automatically started to clear up your own container and dishes a little while after you finished your food, piling them up on the coffee table.
“You don’t need to do that, we’ll get it when we come back.” Rita gently swatted your arm away from the table.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, yeah, c’mon let’s get you home before it gets any later.” Raf stood from the couch and the two of you followed. He left the room in search of his car keys while you glanced around.
“Sorry, uh, my clothes—?”
“I put them in the laundry for you, we can get them cleaned and sent back to you—”
“Rita, you’ve both already done so much for me—”
She put a hand on your shoulder. “It’s nothing, dear. Really.” She smiled.
You nodded in appreciation. “Thank you.”
Her hand moved to around your waist to guide you back out to the hall. “Come on, grab your coat.”
“You’re coming too?”
She looked at you quizzically. “Of course?”
This was all new to you, who were you to doubt? “Oh, okay, cool.”
You couldn’t believe how quiet the city was at this time of night. Then again, you also couldn’t believe there were still other cars on the road apart from his. They sat in the front, talking quietly while you looked wistfully out the window. At the reflections in the dark of the East River, the lights in the buildings across the water brightening your vision just enough to keep you awake for the journey, but not quite enough to stop you from dozing lightly, only snippets of their conversation making it into your conscious, only occasionally punctured by their laughter.
‘The hearing shouldn’t take more than a few hours… When are you next in night court…? Laura invited us to dinner with her and Greg on Friday… Well hopefully not like last time…! Yeah, I’ll have to check with… It’s on the trial calendar for March, I don’t know if… Oh we have to book that place in Martha’s Vineyard again… Such a beautiful night…’
Your eyes flickered over to the gap between the seats, her hand held firmly in his free one as he drove, her eyes under the passing streetlights as bright as her smile. You couldn’t see his face from where you sat behind him, but it sounded like it might have looked the same. You turned back to the window.
‘Well if it’s a conflict I could pass it to one of our Associates… You really think the DA’s gonna let you do that…? God I’m so tired… You can sleep on the way back if you want… Nah… Well just don’t take it out on the intern tomorrow… What if he’s being a dumbass…?’
Now she had almost slumped into the side, curled up into the car door, leaning her elbow into the ledge by the window with her hand in her hair, her other still resting on his thigh.
“How about you, [Y/N]?”
You shook yourself out of your trance. “Sorry?”
She was looking back at you through the gap in the front seats. “You working tomorrow?”
“Not ‘til the afternoon.” You replied sleepily, rubbing at the back of your neck. "Closing shift."
“Lucky you.” She smiled again.
He pulled up to the sidewalk at the address you gave them and he hopped out before you had even got your seatbelt off, insisting on opening the door for you. Even more insistent was she, getting out to say goodbye, too.
You fumbled for your keys in your coat pocket as the three of you approached the door to your apartment building. “I had a great time tonight, thank you.”
“Our pleasure.” She hugged you first, still warm with that lingering floral scent.
He hugged you next, just as warm with an unexpected softness.
“I guess I’ll uh… I’ll see you guys later?” You said, not quite knowing how to wrap this up while you opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
“Take care, [Y/N].” He replied.
“Yeah, uh, you too. Bye.” You shut the door firmly behind you and took your time getting up the stairs, the harsh fluorescent lighting a sharp contrast to the peaceful dim of the last forty five minutes, or the inviting warmth of the hours before.
You didn’t want to turn on the lights in your apartment, signalling the end to an amazing night that you just didn’t want to arrive. You hung up your coat on the hook in the hallway and walked through to the kitchen to take in the view from the window.
You never did like having your apartment on the street side of the building, and yet tonight it all seemed worth it just to get an extra thirty seconds to look at them, in all their vulnerability once more. Chatting briefly with the light on in the car before pulling each other near. You couldn’t quite tell if they were exchanging kisses or rubbing noses or just appreciating the closeness of the other, but the moment was intimate enough to make your heart warm to them once more before they reassumed their positions.
You heard their car start, the light above them cutting out as it did so, and watched for as long as you could as they pulled away again, watching them get smaller and smaller in the distance until you could see them no longer.
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