too busy being yours (to fall for somebody new) sonny carisi x reader
carisi and reader have danced around each other for far too long.
a/n: yes there will be a part two. yes it will be smut. happy reading!! let me know what you thinkkkk <3
It’d been two years since you met him— Dominick Carisi.
Or Sonny, as he insisted you call him. The name fit him perfectly. He was sunshine personified, all bright smiles and boisterous laughter, tied together with the brightest baby blues you’d ever seen.
He was radiant, and to be completely honest- and unfair- you kind of hated the bastard for it. His unwavering ability to light up any room he walked into, or crack a joke, terrible, terrible jokes by the way, that made the tension dissipate.
You were somewhat close; as much as you could be with Fin being your partner and Amanda being his. You enjoyed talking to him. With every story of his huge but endearingly chaotic family or random things that the two of you could blabber on about forever, it was nice. It was impossible not to like him. To not be charmed by him. Not to mention, Sonny was a flirt. And you loved to dish it as much as you loved to take it.
It was almost annoying, the way he’d buried himself into your chest cavity, his smile like flashbangs behind your eyes. How you couldn’t get his stupid nimble fingers or his stupidly soft looking hair or— fuck—those mile long legs, out of your fucking head. And god help if anyone mentioned that stupid fucking mustache that had been the inspiration behind more of your late night, self induced orgasms than you could count.
Sonny Carisi was a bug you could never get out of your system, whether he knew it or not.
You didn’t know when the fuck the small but strong desire you had to rip off Sonny’s clothes had morphed into a full blown crush, but you do remember the day you realized you were in trouble.
You’d walked into the squad room late, not unnoticed by Liv, sanity hanging on by a thread. Your car was in the shop and you’d had to take the subway; you hated the subway. Even worse, you’d forgotten the lunch you’d packed right there on your kitchen counter and spilled obnoxiously hot coffee down the front of your shirt within forty seconds of being at your desk.
As you grumbled all the way back from your locker, slightly too tight button down now hugging your frame, you watch as a pretty rookie cop hands Sonny something, only to linger next to his desk. He smiles his signature smile, and immediately you see the blush creep onto her cheeks.
Your skin bristles with something you’d rather not admit, eyes never leaving the god awful sight in front of you. It’s the first time it clicks. You not only wanted to ride Sonny Carisi until the wheels fell off— you liked him.
The thought made you slam a drawer in your desk a with a little more force than necessary. So much so, Fin threw you an amused look from his neighboring desk.
“Something on your mind?” It’s like he had X-ray vision or some shit, the way he looked from you to Carisi, who was still flirting, back to you.
You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Not a thing.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, that would definitely hold up in court.”
You’re about to flash him a middle finger, but Liv stepped in and let the team know there was a lead to chase at a costume store in Queens. “Y/N and Carisi, you’re up. And make sure you check neighboring stores for surveillance footage.”
You resisted the urge to groan out loud, instead nodding stiffly and standing. Carisi, the harlot, had finally come back down to earth and met you as you were speed walking to the elevator.
“Do you wanna drive or— Christ you’re fast,” You didn’t slow down or acknowledge him in the slightest, just hurrying into the elevator. He just barely managed to slip in before the doors closed.
“You okay?” You hated the way his brows furrow with concern. The way he cocked his head to the side in question, mimicking a puppy. Your eyes slide momentarily to his rosy, kissable lips. You wanted to punch him.
“Peachy.” You grumbled, continuing your unrelenting pace once the elevator opens.
Now prepared, it takes maybe three seconds for Sonny to catch up and even pass you, holding the door to the building open for you. When you finally reached the car, he puts a large hand over yours on the handle, which caused you to finally look up at him. He was closer than you anticipated, causing your skin to heat up just a bit.
You forced an indifferent look on your face to mask your quickening heartbeat, “You gonna move or are we gonna stand here all day?” And because you just can’t help it, “Or would you rather spend your time charming any woman that walks by instead of doing your job?”
It was the wrong thing to say, clearly, because Carisi’s mouth tipped upward slightly, eyes sparkling a little too bright for comfort. He ducked down, just enough to be eye to eye and then—
“If you want some of my attention, all you have to do is ask, Doll.”
He’s stepping out of your space and walking around to his own door before you can even process what to say. You chose avoidance, not even dignifying his absurdity with a response.
You did, however, spend the entire drive trying to ignore the warmth that spread through your stomach.
Dominick Carisi had always had an affinity with new, shining, seemingly unattainable things.
Coming to SVU was one of those things. Something he knew was completely out of his depth, but he was determined to try a change from Homicide anyway. When the opportunity arose, he jumped, wanting nothing more than to explore something new.
Becoming a lawyer was another one of those things. Late night classes at Fordham Law accompanied by long shifts at the most heart wrenchingly rewarding job, which over time he realized was kind of kicking his ass. People had told him it was a pipe dream, that he should stick to being a cop, and from time to time, he wondered if they were right. One thing about Sonny Carisi though; he never backed down from a challenge.
Which brings him to the last and possibly most unattainable thing— you.
From the moment you’d walked into the squad room two years ago, Carisi had been enamored. Between your sarcastic armor, brooding nature and the prettiest doe eyes he’d ever seen; he was gone for you before you even opened your mouth.
And when you did, it was to tell him that his mustache was stupid. It didn’t matter that the entire room started to laugh at his expense, or that he must’ve looked like a schoolboy looking at his first crush, he knew right then and there that he wanted to crack you open. He wanted to see you and that tough girl exterior fucking shatter underneath him. He wanted to see you come undone, wanted to ruin you, just to put you back together and take you out to fucking dinner.
It had been a slow night, just one of finishing paperwork after a hell of a week, the first time he’d felt it. That green monster rearing its ugly head. You were in Liv’s office, something about a progress report, and he sat at his desk, talking to Fin and Rollins mindlessly.
Amanda stretched, old chair creaking slightly under her shifting weight. When you and the lieutenant walked back into the room, she perked up. “You guys up for a drink?”
It wasn’t uncommon, the five of you unwinding in a bar. It was actually some of Carisi’s favorite moments— when there was no tragedy, no person hurting and he just got to be around some of the best people he’d ever met.
He nodded enthusiastically, ready for a drink or six after the week they’d had. Fin agreed, as long as there was promise of food, and even the lieu decided to join, stating that her sitter could stay a little longer. Carisi’s eyes were on you the second you walked into the room, waiting for your confirmation. The thought of a night filled with talking your ear off while you kept that faux annoyed look on your face, though your eyes were always soft. The thought of staring at your full lips while they either insulted him or shot back the same subtly suggestive things he gave you, well that sounded pretty much like heaven.
“No can do,” you said, shattering the mirage of Sonny’s imagination in three words. You walked to your desk, bending to retrieve something in the bottom drawer. There might as well have been a magnet in the back pocket of your jeans with how his eyes never left your ass. He felt himself get half hard at the sight, and he had to clear his throat slightly before he questioned your words.
“What? You got a hot date or somethin’?” It was only after the words left him that he realized he hated them. The image of you intertwined with someone else invaded his brain, which caused his hands to tighten around the pen in his hands.
You straightened out, grabbing your coat. “Definitely ‘or something’.” Rollins laughed, cheering for you. Sonny can’t help but shoot her an irritated look because what the fuck was so good about that?
Liv grinned, “Well have fun and be safe. And don’t forget to leave the DD-5 of the Maxwell case on my desk before you leave.”
You nodded, ignoring Fin’s teasing about someone finally ‘melting the ice queen’. Sonny didn’t find it funny.
It’s only when you reemerged from the boss’s office that he grabbed his coat and said, “Let me walk you out.”
You shrugged, falling in step next to him. “So,” he tried not to sound like a prying loser. “You and this guy, is it serious?”
He failed, miserably, but the question is out there nonetheless. You smirked lazily, “Hardly.”
Understanding dawned on his features and the implication made nausea settle in his gut. “Ah, I see.” He searched for something not completely pitiful to say, “Well, I hope you have fun. Although it won’t be nearly as fun as watching Rollins and Fin cuss each other out over darts.”
You laughed, making Carisi smile brightly. He loved making laugh. “Oh, I’m sure. Do me a favor: if they start threatening to throw the darts at each other like last time, get a video before Liv steps in.”
Sonny snorted, “You’re a menace.”
You turned to him, right in front of the elevator, secret smile on your face. He’s entranced by you, so much so that he’d almost forgotten that you were opting for a night with some guy instead of one looking angelic underneath low bar light in front of him. When the elevator dinged and opened, you didn’t move right away, instead you dropped your gaze over the front of him slowly.
If it was anyone else, he doubted they would’ve noticed. But since you’re you and Sonny considered himself a pro at observing you, he did. And it made his body hum quietly.
Your voice was low and seductive as ever as you said, “Oh, Sonny. You have no idea.”
Then the doors shut and you were gone, leaving Dominick Carisi floundering with an active imagination and a tightness in his pants for the second time in ten minutes.
“Here,” Sonny says, handing you a scorching hot chocolate as he gets back in the car. The two of you got assigned to a stakeout today and you’re convinced your body has reached dangerous levels of hypothermia.
“Thank fuck.” He laughs as you rip off your gloves, turning the dial on the heat even higher.
“Jesus, what are you trying to do, cook us?” You shoot him a withering look.
“It’s fucking freezing, Sonny.”
He just stares at you, shrugging. His feigned nonchalance might of worked if you didn’t catch the way his hands shook slightly, pressed impossibly firm into the warm cup between them. “I run hot.” He says simply, taking a slow sip, eyes fluttering back to the big brown stone across the street you were meant to be watching.
“Must be nice. My iron’s about as low as your standards.” The laugh that rips from his chest sends a warmth through you, very welcoming in the sub zero weather you’re currently suffering through.
“What could you possibly know about my standards, sweetheart?” Carisi’s dark blonde eyebrow is raised, lips fighting to stay in a set line.
You give him a deadpan look. “Call it a hunch.”
“A hunch…” he says under his breath, but you’re no longer paying attention. You fish your phone out of your coat pocket, not being able to contain the groan that escapes you. This fucking guy, the one with the social cues of a rock and fingers that felt more like a medical exam than a passion fueled tryst, would not leave you alone.
He’d been nice enough; tall, cute and the type of muscular that felt sturdy, strong. You’d been on three dates, and while he may have been nice, he was so painfully boring. You loved a gentleman, but you also needed someone that could take as much as you could give. Someone you could bounce off of. Someone that made every moment exciting.
“I would say it sounds like your soul is trying to escape, but I’m still not entirely sure you have one.” You scoff, rolling your eyes, looking up from your phone. “Why the long face, doll?”
Though you would rather chew on broken glass than admit it, something about the variation of nicknames Carisi called you made you hot all over. The combination of his thick, Staten Island drawl, plus the way his lips formed around the words always made you squeeze your thighs a little tighter.
“Men are clueless.” You lock your phone, shoving your phone back in your pocket as yet another cringey attempt of a sext comes through. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a man that knows what he’s doing.”
“As in…” you shoot him a pointed look, “Ah.” He says, leaning back in the seat and looking you dead in the eye. “So that’s why you’re cranky all the time, huh?”
It wasn’t an uncommon thing for you and Sonny to throw suggestive quips back and forth. Basically all your time together was spent teasing and taunting each other. Yet, there was something about the way he said it that made your heart start to quicken just a tad in your chest.
“Oh, fuck you.” You breathed a laugh, pushing the feelings swirling in your stomach way, way down.
The way your head snaps to Sonny is immediate. You must look comical, eyes slightly widened, jaw slightly agape.
Sonny himself looks a little surprised the words fell from his mouth, but the look in his eyes tells you that he doesn’t care to take it back. Underneath all the playfulness, it looked like he meant it.
You regain your composure, huffing slightly. You force it to sound annoyed instead of breathless, because there was no way you’d give him any implication that you definitely could use it. And he could definitely use you.
It’s been too long since you spoke, so he asks you, “Trouble in paradise?”
You don’t know why you tell him what you do. You have no idea how to stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth at the speed of light. Maybe it’s because you were annoyed at the dating scene in New York or because you were flustered and halfway turned on by the very man you were speaking to.
“More like purgatory.” You grumble, before continuing. “I’ve been on like three dates with this guy, which were fine— I guess, but he can’t take a hint for shit.” Sonny’s eyes are boring into you with heightened interest, his body now angling towards you as you speak. “After the last time we hooked up, which was a disaster, I told him that it would probably be best to call it. Just leave it at that. Apparently, I wasn’t specific enough.” And with added contempt, “I knew I shouldn’t have faked it that last time.”
Carisi’s eyes are sparkling, almost like he can’t believe that you’re even talking to him about this. It makes you shrink, embarrassment dusting across your cheeks. You’re about to tell him to forget everything you just said, but he’s speaking before you can.
He sucks his teeth, scrubbing a hand over his chin. “You shouldn’t have to fake it. I don’t know what kind of losers you keep coming across, but there are definitely men out there that know exactly what they’re doing.”
The suggestive tone of his words makes you freeze. Your entire being goes still, breathing just a smidge heavier. Sonny pauses, giving a look that pins you to your seat. You don’t know if this is exactly appropriate—talking to your coworker about your sex life while in the middle of surveilling a potential serial killer— but you couldn’t help but listen with rapt attention while he talks. And as you learned long ago, Sonny Carisi will talk, and talk and talk.
“Women are supposed to be worshipped— no, ravished. Pleasure is supposed to be mutual and exciting. Not to mention, it’s supposed to last. Something that consumes you and makes you borderline fucking crazy,” his rant continues. “I can’t imagine getting a woman like you in my bed and not wanting to do absolutely everything to make her fall apart.”
He says the last part like the thought of your lackluster sexcapades made him mad. The way his hands were so tight on the steering wheel his knuckles were turning white. The way he kept running his tongue along his top row of teeth.
The heat in your stomach had since shot directly down to your core, and you clenched around nothing, trying desperately to contain the animalistic urge to drag his lanky ass to the backseat to show you exactly what the fuck he meant.
“A woman like me?” The words feel like sandpaper in your throat. The energy has made a tangible shift from shooting the shit to territory that was new to the dynamic between the two of you. The tension was palpable, settling around you like a fog; thick and suffocating.
His eyes trail your body shamelessly— or maybe unconsciously— and he leans forward slightly. “Yeah, a woman like you. Strong, sure of herself and stubborn as all hell.” You should be insulted, but you can’t even pretend to give a shit. Even though it’s exactly how you’d describe him. “Someone that has it all together, all the time. Anyone that has the privilege of touching you should be making it their mission to make you come undone.”
Jesus Christ. If he kept talking, you were sure you were gonna do something you’d both regret. But because you’d never been one to back down from anything, you shift closer to him, faces only mere inches apart. You tilt your head, giving him a searing look. “Sounds like you’ve thought about the idea of me in bed a lot, Sonny boy.”
Something flashes in his eyes, a piercing blue that you try to convince yourself isn’t getting darker by the second. “Are you supposed to be the all knowing ‘someone’ in this scenario?”
It’s further than the flirting has ever gone. It’s basically a proposition. But the way Sonny’s looking at you makes you want to rip his clothes off, right here, in your work SUV with the blacked out windows. Carisi goes to speak, eyes ablaze and hands inching closer to you. Your blood bubbles under your skin and you think fucking finally, until a flurry of movement catches both of your eyes. The suspect loads a car with suspicious looking bags, before hurriedly climbing in the drivers seat and peeling off the curb.
Just like that the spell is broken, Carisi putting the car in drive and pursuing, you on the walkie, reporting to Fin and Amanda posted up a couple blocks away.
You can’t tell whether you’re extremely grateful or insanely fucking pissed.
It’s two months later, at the chief’s birthday party of all places, that things finally boil over the surface.
The two you are stationed at high top table in the bar, talking shit and laughing at the dumbest things. You’re on your second, maybe third glass of white wine, and you can’t even remember how many beers Carisi has popped open.
It was weird, how things had slightly shifted between the two of you. There was this underlying tension, this vibe, that lingered. The eye contact you’d make across the squad room was longer and more intentional. Suddenly, you and Sonny were paired up more often than not, Fin throwing secret glances to Amanda that weren’t subtle in the slightest. If you weren’t so happy with the proximity, you would’ve enjoyed calling them out on it.
Sonny’s telling you a story, something about his brother in law and a hammer that doesn’t sound like it’s going to end well. He’s close; closer than he would’ve dared to get before that day in the car. Leaning into you while he laughs, flushed pink across his cheeks, knee knocking against yours under the table. The short contact makes your body buzz. You lean into him right back, face in the palm of your hand as you listen.
You excuse yourself to the restroom, fanning yourself with your hands once you get inside. It takes a couple minutes, but once you get out, you’re face to face with Rollins, smoothing out her hair in the mirror.
“Rollins! Where have you been all night? I feel like I’ve hardly seen you.” You pull your lip gloss out of your purse, reapplying and trying not to make it obvious that you’re adjusting your boobs to make sure they’re sitting right. For absolutely no reason at all, of course.
Amanda smirks, turning to face you. “I think you’ve hardly seen anyone other than Sonny tonight.”
The laugh you let out is louder than you expect. “Well, you know how Carisi can talk for days.”
Once you’re satisfied with your appearance you turn to her. She shakes her head in amusement. “The two of you are something else,” the way she says it sounds like she knows something you don’t. “When that tension finally pops, just make sure you use protection.”
You splutter at her words. She doesn’t even try to hide her laughter as she leaves the room, you hot on her heels. “Okay, that’s just ridiculous—“
Your words die in your throat as you see Sonny at the bar, talking to some redhead, her hand perched on his bicep. You bristle, red hot rage that is extremely too dramatic filling you from head to toe. The sight, along with the alcohol, makes your stomach churn.
Amanda leans over to you, “Whatever lie you were about to tell just completely blew up in your face, by the way.”
You send her a glare, but she only laughs. You’re making your way to the bar before she can say anything else to you.
As you start to weave through the throngs of people, you stop and slow your breathing, trying to think rationally. It’s not like Sonny was your… well, anything. The only definitive title he had was your coworker, though anyone who knew the two of you would call you friends, at least. You had no right to feel any type of possessiveness or jealousy over the smooth-talking, Italian bastard, but goddamnit, you did.
The way the woman kept leaning forward made you want to throw something. How you could see her flirty eyes and dirty smile zero in on him, throwing her head back to laugh at everything he said. You’d been trying to keep your distance, but the dam breaks as soon as she moves her hand down to his thigh. Hell no.
Despite how you’re feeling on the inside, you remain your typical calm and collected demeanor. You walk up, casually leaning against Sonny causing him to stop mid sentence in surprise.
“Hi Sonny,” your hand rests in between his shoulder blades. You feel his body tense for a moment before he relaxes. “Who’s your friend?”
The woman sends an irritated look your way, waiting for him to introduce her. He turns to look at you, confusion in his eyes. “Y/N, this is Carrie. Carrie, Y/N.” You nod, giving her a faux friendly smile. She doesn’t reciprocate.
When it’s silent for a couple seconds, Carisi can sense that there’s something amiss. He watches you stare each other down, and though he’s no expert on body language, he knows a hostile situation when he sees one.
“Carrie works in the DA’s office, she was just telling me—“ Once again, Sonny’s words are stopped short as you slither your hand up to his, plucking the beer he’d been nursing out of reach. You make eye contact with him as you tip it to your mouth, making a show of wrapping your lips around it.
It makes Sonny’s brain short circuit. “Telling you what?” You ask innocently, swiping at your bottom lip with your tongue.
When he doesn’t answer, eyes locked on yours, the redhead continues. “I was just telling Dominick that I’m sure once he finishes his bar exam, there’ll be a place for him in our office.”
You weren’t listening to her, not even slightly. How could you when Carisi was looking at you with a bewildered hunger in his eyes? Your hand was moving at its own accord up and down his back. He was almost feline in his movements, body basically preening at your touch.
You didn’t even bother to hide your triumphant grin. “Uh-huh, that’s all very interesting. Sonny?”
Carisi is snapped out of his daze as he looks up at you, clearing his throat. “Yeah?”
“I’m tired. Share a cab home with me?” You barely finish your sentence before he’s on his feet, flagging down a bartender to close his tab. The woman he’d been talking to scoffs, not bothering to say anything else as she walks away. It shouldn’t have given you the giddy feeling that’s radiating through your body, but it does.
When Carisi finishes, he grabs his jacket and leads you out of the bar with a hand on the small of your back. The contact makes you shiver.
It’s when you’re outside he pushes you flush against the brick, one hand next to your head. “What was that?”
You decide, now that the haze of jealousy has (mostly) worn off, to play dumb. “What do you mean?”
The scoff he gives you is immediate. Like he was waiting for you to deny it. “That. In the bar. With Carrie.”
The sound of her name on his lips annoys you all over again. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was interrupting such riveting conversation.”
You go to move out of his space, but he doesn’t allow it, keeping his arms caged around you. Time slows down at the proximity, your heart hammering inside your rib cage. The electricity between you feels akin to a lightning storm; big, bright and detrimental.
It was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea, that you wished you never let yourself go through. The tension between you could be cut with a fucking butter knife. You were beginning to realize that whether you meant to or not, you’d just opened a can of worms that would be impossible to close again.
“Would you care if it was?”
The question throws you off guard. You were sure that your cover had been blown by now; no matter how happy go lucky Sonny Carisi appeared, he was far from dumb. And it didn’t help that he could read you like his favorite fucking book.
You don’t answer, instead just gaze up at him through your lashes. There’s a mountain of words between you, but you don’t want to be the one to materialize it; this thing that’s been festering between you since the day you met. You, unfortunately, were stubborn until the bitter end. If this was happening, you’d make him beg for it.
Mind made up, you run your hands up his side, taking note of just how nice his body feels under his dress shirt. He’s staring at you with so much focus it’s making you dizzy. Like if he blinks, you’ll be gone.
Your hands travel back down to the waistline of his pants, tugging at his belt loops. “Would it matter?”
Carisi huffs, hand that rested above your head now on your neck. “Don’t answer my question with a question.” His hold tightens, presence solid and unmoving. You’d always wondered what having his hands on you would feel like, but somehow, it was even better than what you anticipated. The knot in your stomach is growing, unfurling in a way that needed him even closer.
“Or what?” You can tell you’re wearing on his patience, but all it does is excite you more.
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. You think you’ve pushed him too far or worse— he’s decided you’re more trouble than you’re worth. The panic hits you fast, crawling up your spine like a pest you can’t get rid of.
“You already know the answer to that.” Sonny says, resting his forehead against yours. Your mouth drops open, breath mixing with his in the cool air between you. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know you drive me fucking crazy.”
A confession of sorts. A stuttered heartbeat. A break in the madness.
There’s a single moment where all you do is look at him, trying to figure out where the hell he came from. It steals every bit of air you have left in your lungs when you see that he’s looking right back, like he can’t even believe he gets to breathe your air.
You don’t move. You don’t blink. You don’t even fucking breathe. How could you?
Sonny grabs your face with both hands, tentative and firm; so much different than the energy surrounding you. His breathing is labored and his face is flushed, chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. “Fuck- Y/N. Can I kiss you?” The sky opens up. “Please.”
Your mouth is on him before the whine completely leaves his mouth. It’s soul crushing, the way you fuse together like you were made for each other. How your bodies slot together like pieces of a puzzle. The way you’re both holding on for dear life, like there’s nothing else that matters than being right here, right now.
“Sonny,” it comes out as a moan, desperate and needy. Carisi groans, pushing himself impossibly closer. You can feel your shoulder blades digging roughly into the exposed brick behind you, but you don’t care. The wounds are soothed by the way Sonny licks into your mouth with urgency, tongue wrapping around your own.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, hands roaming. Your chest, your thighs, your hips. He pulls and squeezes every part he can, though it never seems like enough. You can’t help but agree.
