#thatesqcrushkinkbingo

[storiesofsvu]

Lucky Number Four

Olivia Benson x reader Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut. Written originally for @alexusonfire but I took like, fucking six months to finish it so I'm using it for the "praise" square on @thatesqcrush 's kinktober!

Olivia knew the moment that she saw you in that little black dress there was no way she wasn’t going to invite you up to her apartment for a nightcap. Dinner had been your fourth date, and things seemed to be going swimmingly so far, so she doubted you would turn her down. You’d met a few weeks ago through a dating app, and while that wasn’t exactly either of your styles, you both had a good feeling about it and decided to trust your gut.

Date number one was coffee, nervous at the start, but after an hour you got a second round and wandered through Central Park, hand in hand by the end of it, a gentle kiss laid on your cheek and the promise of a second date.

Date number two was a movie, full of jump scares that you did your best not to shriek at, burying yourself into Olivia’s neck as she chuckled quietly, her arm protectively wrapping around you. In an attempt to calm down, and to not say goodnight yet, you went for drinks at a bar around the corner. After a couple of cocktails, you took the plunge when she dropped you off, leaning in to kiss her softly. She happily surprised you with a grin when the kiss broke, and she tugged you back in for another one, already wanting to feel your lips on hers again. Cheeks flushing, unable to stop smiling, the two of you said a quiet goodnight before making your separate ways.

Date number three Olivia had invited you over to her place to make you dinner. You were surprised that for a cop, she was someone who had an extensive menu of things she was incredibly good at cooking. She’d made a full spread for you, fresh beet and goat cheese salad, ricotta spinach stuffed chicken breast and the creamiest mashed potatoes you’d ever tasted. You helped with the dishes, little laughs and jokes surrounding the two of you before you settled on the couch with fresh glasses of wine. This time the movie lay forgotten, as a series of small kisses led into a rather steamy make out session. The unlucky part of that night was Olivia’s phone going off, getting called into a case and she very reluctantly said goodnight hours earlier than either of you wanted.

Tonight, she’d made sure that there was no way she was getting called in, booked a reservation at an adorable little bistro in midtown, and had even had flowers sent over to your apartment during the day. So, in return, you’d pulled on your favourite little black dress, the one that hugged in all the right places, and you knew you looked amazing in. Dinner went wonderfully well, there was never an uncomfortable lull in conversation, the flirtation was laid on heavily, and you happily accepted Olivia’s hand linked in yours while you walked the streets of Manhattan back to her apartment.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to come up? Finish off with another glass of wine?” She asked softly as she turned to you and you practically beamed up at her.

“I’d love to.” With a smile you leant in, leaving a gentle kiss on her cheek that caused her to smile just as brightly, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you upstairs.

Inside the apartment you rid yourselves of the necessary outerwear, shoes coats and scarves left at the door. Oliva encouraged you to make yourself at home while she darted off to the kitchen to get the wine, smiling when she found you completely comfortable on the couch, flicking through tv channels. You thanked her for the wine, taking a quick sip before placing it down on the coffee table and nestling into the arm she laid over the back of the couch.

Naturally, it didn’t take too long for the entertainment to not be the exciting part of the evening. Olivia’s featherlight touches giving you goosebumps and all the right kind of shivers. Glancing up at her you smiled gently, the gleam in your eyes one that was familiar, one that she was definitely intrigued by. She let out a small chuckle as your lips met, not surprised that you were quick to deepen the kiss, not wanting to pull away. Her arms wrapped around your waist and you easily slipped into her lap, letting out a happy sigh at the sensation of being in her arms.

Your hands snuck up her shoulders, gliding over her body before linking behind her neck, hugging yourself impeccably close to her. Your lips danced with grace against each other’s, your tongue sneaking into her mouth as her breath caught in her throat. You could taste the wine, letting out a satisfied sigh into her lungs. One of Olivia’s hands rubbed up your back, cupping gently at the back of your head, pulling you even closer to her. She ached to never let you go, to hold you forever, to be able to wake up with you buried in her arms every morning from now on. Her hands moved from resting on your hips to glide up your sides, thumbs barely brushing towards your chest before the slipped up to your bare shoulders, toying with the straps of your dress. You very reluctantly broke the kiss, gazing down at her,

“Should we…” you nodded down the hall and she grinned.

“Did you want to?”

“Yes. Please.” You nodded feverously and she chuckled, gently nudging you off her lap and linking her hand in yours, leading you down the hallway.

The door swung shut behind the two of you and Olivia met your lips with another kiss, this one filled with more fire, but still tender as her hands wrapped around your body. Her fingers found the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down, letting your dress drop over your shoulders and slide to the floor.

“God you’re so beautiful sweetheart.” She murmured, stepping back to admire your lingerie. You couldn’t help but blush a bit, ducking your gaze from hers until you felt her finger curl under your chin and she tilted your head back up to her, “no need to be shy.”

You let out a small giggle, accepting the kiss she left on your lips before undressing herself, her hand curling into yours as she tugged you toward the bed, dropping down to sitting on the edge of it. You toppled onto her lap, smile on your cheeks as she kissed you, hands tickling across your freshly exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their paths. You let out a happy sigh into the kiss and she smiled at the sensation, her fingers undoing the clasp of you bra and you let it fall to the floor. Olivia’s hands returned to your skin, gently cupping at your chest, squeezing and groping at the tender flesh, pulling a little moan from you, your head dropping back at the sensation. She took full advantage, her lips moving down your neck, teeth ever so lightly scraping at your skin while she continued to toy with your chest, pinching softly at your nipples, pulling more groans and breathy sighs from you as she did so.

“Lie back for me pretty girl.” She nudged you, guiding you to drop into the pillows and you let out a little giggle, adjusting so you were comfortable, “that’s it.” She murmured, kissing you gently, “so good for me already.”

Her lips trailed down your neck once more, nipping at your pulse point before they kissed across your collarbone, her lips wrapping around one of your nipples, sucking it into her mouth while her free hand mirrored her actions on the other side. You felt the heat beginning to build deeper within you, pulsing through your body with each lap of her tongue on your skin. Your hand loosely tangled into her hair as your eyes fluttered shut, head burying into the pillows behind you. Olivia’s lips made a wet path across your skin, down your body before she kissed right above your panties, fingers slipping into the waistband and she tugged them down your legs, tossing them to the floor.

“Spread your legs for me.” She cooed and you did as she asked, hips falling open so she could settle between them, “good girl.” You let out a little gasp when her fingers slid through your folds, gathering your wetness and smearing it around. The pads of her fingers rubbed at your clit briefly, smiling as you let out a little whine, hips rocking toward the movement. “So beautiful…” she murmured, fingers spreading you pussy open before one sunk into you.

“Oh god…”

Olivia pumped it a few times before adding a second one, fingers curling within you in search of that spongey spot. You let out a small gasp when she did, hips rocking up toward her and she pressed against the spot again.

“That’s it sweet girl.” She murmured, “doing so good for me, take my fingers so well.”

She leant over you, nudging your nose with hers to gain your attention, stealing a kiss while her hand continued to fuck into you. Her lips danced with grace against yours, swallowing your moans and whines as her fingers curled and twisted inside your pussy. Your hands clutched at her body, feeling the pressure building within you, pussy fluttering around her fingers. The heel of her hand pressed against your clit and you broke the kiss with a gasp, thighs attempting to close around her body. She simply grinned, picking up the pace of her fingers while her lips kissed down the column of your throat again.

“Feel so good sweetheart, so warm, nice and wet for me.” She husked into your ear and you moaned, your nails scratching at her back.

“Fuck… fuck… please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Olivia pressed one last kiss into your burning skin before sitting up so she could use both of her hands, one continuing to fuck her fingers in and out of you, curling with every second thrust. The other one moved to your clit, starting off soft and slow until you were whining, shivering against the bed and she picked up the speed and pressure, matching with the tempo she continued to fuck you.

“Come for me sweet girl, I know you want to. Look so pretty like this…”

The burning prickled through you, your skin alit with pleasure, little whines and moans getting louder and closer together as you felt the tingling build higher and higher, shooting southward. You let out a cry, your body shaking, thighs trembling around Olivia as your orgasm washed through you, pleasure taking you to a peak you’d never hit before.

“Oh god!”

“That’s it sweetheart… god you’re so fucking beautiful when you come.” Her fingers lifted off your clit, giving you some relief as you shook lightly, her fingers gently fucking you through your orgasm.

Your hands reached out in search of her as you panted, eyes fluttering and she let out a soft laugh, fingers sliding out of you so she could crawl over you, accepting the embrace and peppering your face with kisses.

“Jesus…” you muttered.

“You did so well for meet sweet girl, so good.” She murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead before she dropped onto the bed beside you, pulling you into her arms.

You let out a very satisfied sigh, nuzzling into the embrace as you settled on her chest, smiling at the feeling of her fingers coming to play with your hair. There was simply no doubt, date number four was an absolute swimming success.

__________________ @red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @altsvu @svulife-rl @svushots @lesbianspacecowboy @whispered-tear-drops @wannabe-fic-reader @lawandorderimagines @venablemayfairgoode @whimsicallymad @oliviaswifey @alexusonfire @screenee @mysticfalls01 @naturalxselection @beccabarba @littlegaybabe @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @enduringalexblake @molllss @wosoimagines @brienneseveruscalawayfanfiction @solemnnova @infernumlilith @yourtaletotell @australiancarisi @cerberus-spectre @wandas-wife @emskisworld @newyorker14 @lawandorderuswnt @wandasbrat @hbkpop @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @sia2raw @ladysc @narvaldetierra @dxtery @poisonedcrowns @borg-queer @momlifebehard @holycrapraewth

[pascalispretty]

By Night, Beloved

Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3553

Warnings: fingering, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, wall sex, infidelity, reader is repressed and lonely, Cassian in his slut era, Cassian loses focus and has a consensual workplace relationship

Summary: Cassian meets with one of his informants and indulges in a little recklessness. Written for @thatesqcrush's Kinktober bingo, fulfilling the "Almost Getting Caught/Public Sex" prompt. No spoilers for Andor or Rogue One, but inspired by the references to Cass being a ladies man and having a taste for married women.

(Dipping my toe into a new fandom! Unbetad, so please be gentle. Thanks as always to @lannister-slings-and-arrows, this time for being my Star Wars expert.) On ao3 here.

This late in the evening, the villa is quiet. You strip off your finery as quickly as you can, abandoning jewellery haphazardly on the dressing table and pulling pins carelessly out of your hair. The fastenings of your dress are slow to undo by yourself but eventually, you shed the expensive silver shimmersilk, the skirts so voluminous that it almost stands up by itself. It looks like a ghost beside you as you pull a robe on top of your shift. 

As you step out onto the balcony, you can hear the roar of the waterfall in the distance, the lights of the palace just visible across the water. Naboo is one of the most beautiful worlds you’ve ever seen; you can’t imagine how much worse you’d have fared if your husband had been posted somewhere like Wobani or Mapuzo. Still, you can feel the chill air rolling off the water despite the robe you’d thrown on. 

You’d excused yourself from the dinner early, complaining of a headache and leaving your husband and the Governor of Naboo to endless hands of sabacc and glasses of emerald wine. There was something far more interesting waiting for you here. 

“You’re late.” Cassian steps out from the shadows. He’s wearing a stolen Imperial officer uniform, and you hate the way that it makes something dark twist deep inside of you. He looks every inch the part; the grey uniform fitted perfectly to his lean body, the ramrod straight posture, the gloved hands folded behind his back. Even the kepi on his head sits just so. The only thing out of place is the stubble; most Imperial officers go clean-shaven. 

“You’re lucky I could get away at all.” A white lie; it’s been almost a month since you’d seen him last, nothing would have kept you from coming. Folding your arms against the chill, you stand in front of one of the marble pillars, meeting Cassian’s inscrutable gaze. His eyes are dark and unfathomable at the best of times, and the peak of his cap casts a shadow over them. It leaves you with no idea whether he’s actually annoyed with you or not. 

“You said you had something.” Straight to business, then. You wonder where he’s coming from; whether he’s just passing through, or has an assignment on a nearby system. He had come quickly once you’d managed to get a message through to him, but you can’t allow yourself to imagine that has anything to do with you. 

“A rumour, for now.” You begin, tugging your robe a little tighter around your body. It’s a poor choice of words, your brain a little fogged by the wine you’d drunk with dinner, and Cassian is already shaking his head.

“You had me risk my neck for a rumour? What, gossip that you heard from some other bored housewife?” He steps a little closer to you, trying to keep his voice low. The jibe makes you frown, but you press on anyway. 

“From the Governor. The garrison commander on Malastare is ill, and his deputy is a moron - even by Imperial standards. It’ll be vulnerable.” You say softly, almost at a whisper. There will be nobody around your private quarters - your handmaids are gone for the night, and you’ve made it clear to your husband that you don’t like his guards around your bedroom- but the situation invites hushed tones. He digests the news, a muscle jumping in his tightly-clenched jaw. 

“How ill?” Cassian takes another step forwards, dropping his voice to match yours. The irritation is gone, satisfied that he hasn’t risked his life for something trivial. Out of the shadows, you can get a better look at him. He’s so pretty it makes your breath hitch, the delicate bone structure and dark eyes framed by thick, almost girlish lashes, features that don’t seem like they should belong to a ruthless rebel spy. 

“Gravely. They’re keeping it to themselves as much as possible, but the Commander asked Cadmus if he can foster his sons here if the worst should happen.” The mention of your husband’s name makes something flicker across Cassian’s face, but you can’t put a name to it. You doubt it’s jealousy; more likely it’s loathing. 

“I’ll pass it along.” 

“That garrison is the only toehold the Empire has left on Malastare-” 

“I know.” That muscle jumps in his jaw again.

“I’m not just a bored housewife.” You say, the words escaping you before you can stop them. The last thing you want is to sound petulant, exactly like the spoiled socialite you were expected to be. It was to your advantage when dealing with your husband and the other Imperial officers; it let you overhear things they assumed you were too vapid to understand or care about. But from Cassian, the jab sings. 

“I know that too.” Something has softened in his voice, just the smallest amount. “Everybody has their own rebellion. Someone told me that once.” 

You’ve heard it from him before, a long time ago. The first time that you’d fallen into bed with him. Funny, to think that fucking him was part of your own small rebellion. 

“How many Imperial wives have you bedded in the name of your rebellion, Captain Andor?” You’re teasing him now, but you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch. 

“I have my hands full with just the one.” 

“Not currently, you don’t.” You raise one of your eyebrows in a challenge. His eyes flick to the sides, glancing at his surroundings before taking another step closer to you. 

“You’re reckless,” he murmurs. It’s not a no. One of his gloved hands reaches out to touch your hip, his thumb stroking over the thin shimmersilk. The white fabric looks almost luminescent in the moonlight, a sharp contrast with the black leather of his gloves. 

“Perhaps. Us bored housewives have to find some way to fill the day.” You swear he rolls his eyes at you beneath the peak of his cap. The two of you step in sync this time, moving until your back hits the pillar behind you. 

He’s so close to you now, close enough that you can smell him; something leathery and male and uniquely him. He’s not a tall man, more lean than thick with muscle, but the way he has you backed against the cold stone of the pillar makes his presence seem larger somehow. 

“Somebody has to make sure you’re seen to.” The hand on your hip grips a little tighter, his other hand coming up to cup your jaw. For all that he might call you reckless, you know he wouldn’t linger if he believed it was too dangerous. Naboo is quiet; nothing happens here. It’s one of the last places anybody would expect a rebel spy to be. 

Cassian closes what little distance remains between the two of you and kisses you. It’s as though an electric pulse runs through your whole body, the marble behind you and Cassian in front of you the only things keeping you upright. Even the first soft brush of his lips against yours is enough to make you melt; it has been too long since anyone touched you like this, chaste as it is. 

Lacking in points of comparison as you are, you feel confident in your judgement that Cassian is an excellent kisser. Soft and tender when he had the time for it, feverish and passionate when he did not. If you’d met in another life, you could have devoted hours just to kissing him. 

The kiss deepens and the hand at your jaw steadies you as he licks messily into your mouth. The stupid peaked cap bumps against your forehead so you pull it off him, dropping it somewhere beside you. It leaves you free to tangle your fingers in his soft brown hair, a noise catching in his throat at the sensation. 

Cassian lets you go just long enough to shed his gloves and you shudder when his palms land on your waist again. You can feel the warmth of his skin through your shift and you arch against him. One of his legs pushes insistently between your thighs, heat flaring up inside your body. The fabric of your shift clings damply to you, but the coarser wool of his trousers offers an intense sensation as you grind down. The pressure leaves you gasping between hungry kisses, rubbing against his thigh like a Loth-cat in heat. 

“Dirty girl,” he whispers against your lips, voice rough and accent thick. There’s no defence you can offer. Not to a man who’s fucked you over tables and in your husband’s bed, who’d even taken you apart with his mouth and his cock after a fight, when the two of you were still spattered with blood. For Cassian, you let yourself be debased. 

He grabs at fistfuls of your shift, pulling it up and gathering it around your waist. You’re bare underneath, and you hiss through your teeth when the cold air hits your soaked cunt. Cassian grasps at the back of your thigh, fingertips digging into your flesh as he pulls. You follow his encouraging touch, hooking your leg over his hip and opening yourself up to him. 

The fingers of his free hand move between your bodies, pressing between your thighs and just barely brushing against the seam of your cunt. You whine softly, more of that electricity surging up your spine as he slides his fingertips through your folds. 

“You’re so wet.” His mouth moves from yours, nuzzling against your neck as he touches you. He presses soft, open-mouthed kisses along the side of your throat; it’s too dangerous for him to leave bitemarks, but you’ll carry the ghost of those kisses for days. His stubble scrapes at your skin, but you can’t think right now of the redness it might leave behind. 

“I’ve missed this,” you manage. This, because this is safer than you.

Cassian hums against your skin, nipping gently at your earlobe. His thumb finds your clit and you drop your head back like your spinal cord has been cut, boneless under his touch. Every slow circular stroke of his thumb sends sparks racing through your body and fans that familiar heat burning in your core. 

Every night you’ve spent alone in your bed, your own fingers between your legs as you feast on your memories, feels like a poor facsimile of this. You can mimic the touch, but you can’t come close to copying the weight of his body against yours, his mouth on you, the way his silky hair feels under your fingers. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp out, sinking your teeth into your lower lip to stop a moan from tearing out of your throat. Instead of verbally responding, Cassian drags his tongue up the column of your throat, tracing the path of your jugular. It nearly hurts with how good it feels, this assault on your senses, and you move one of your hands down to clutch at his shoulder. 

You nearly choke when Cassian presses one of his fingers into you, so much thicker than your own. He sighs into the crook of your neck as you clench down around his finger, his breath hot against your skin. 

“Feel so good, love,” he says, so quietly that you almost miss it. His digits work in tandem, a brutal double assault that has you quivering. “If we had time, I’d want to taste you.” 

You’re already so overwhelmed; bringing up how heavenly his mouth feels on your cunt seems wildly unfair. 

“Tease,” you say, but there’s no real protest behind it. Every one of your nerve endings feels like it’s burning you from the inside out, your lower muscles locking down as you get closer to coming. Cassian must know that you’re so nearly there; he moves his fingers faster, managing to brush against that spot inside of you with every pass. 

Without warning he adds a second finger, curling them both inside of you. The added pressure against that little bundle of nerves on your inner walls is what sends you hurtling over the edge. Somehow, you have enough sense left to clap one of your hands over your mouth, muffling a moan behind your palm. Your orgasm tears through you like a wildfire, fierce and blazing, and you have to close your eyes against the onslaught. 

Cassian keeps working you as you come, pressing kisses onto the back of the hand you’re still holding over your mouth. When you finally peel your palm away he catches you in a kiss before you can take a deep breath, leaving you lightheaded. Rather than sating you, coming once has only made you greedy for more. 

Part of you wishes you could strip Cassian out of his uniform, to remove all the layers of gaberwool and linen and leather so you can really feel him. You can appreciate how good he looks in an Imperial uniform - it has its own twisted appeal - but it doesn’t compare to the rare trysts where you’ve both managed to undress. 

You know the body under the uniform. He’s all lean muscle and olive skin. There’s a faint dusting of dark hair on his chest, and more leading down to his groin. And there are sensitive spots on his shoulderblades and sides that make him groan and shudder when you drag your nails over them. 

Shoving the fantasies abruptly aside, you focus on what you have in front of you. Bringing your hand down, you slide it into the small gap between your bodies and try to find the fastening of Cassian’s trousers. He jumps when your fingers brush over the outline of his cock, nipping your kiss-swollen lower lip in retaliation. You feel the hitch in his breathing when you finally succeed and wrap your fingers around his length. 

The hand he has between your legs moves to help you, pulling his cock free and coating it with your slick. You take charge of keeping the fabric out of the way, your slip and his tunic gathered above your hips. It’s awkward, but you don’t have an alternative and both you and Cassian are past the point of caring, the desperation only making you clumsier. 

“Please, Cassian-” your voice sounds ragged even to your own ears as you plead with him, trying to get him to hurry. The kiss broken, he looks down at you with those big brown eyes, softer now than when the encounter had started. Before you can open your mouth again, he pushes into you, filling you with one slow, deep roll of his hips. 

The feeling makes you want to sob and your head pitches forward onto his shoulder. There’s no space to pull away, no chance for a reprieve from the ache of your muscles trying to stretch to accommodate him. It’s been too long; you’re out of practice. You give yourself up to it, clinging to his shoulders as he presses you harder against the pillar. 

Once he’s buried to the hilt in you, he doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath. His fingers twist into your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck to him again. You’re vaguely aware of him hushing you as his mouth returns to your throat, but he needn’t have bothered. You can’t get enough air into your lungs to make a sound anyway. 

It’s so quiet out on the balcony that you can hear the obscene sound your bodies make as he slowly pulls back out of you, leaving just the head of his cock inside you. 

“Fuck, love, can I-” he breathes against your neck. 

“Yes, whatever, please,” you cut him off before he can even tell you what he wants. You don’t care. Right now, he can do whatever he wants to you. 

Cassian doesn’t wait to be told twice. He fills you again with a snap of his hips, setting a fast, hard pace that leaves you gasping. If not for his hands and his body keeping you up, you would have collapsed to the floor by now. It’s all you can do to hold onto him as he drives into you, that familiar heat starting to flood through your veins again. 

Neither of you can be completely silent, not in the face of such an onslaught. He gives up on your neck and bites down on the shoulder of your robe, muffling groans and grunts against the expensive fabric. When the first whine escapes you, Cassian claps his palm over your mouth. You can’t help darting your tongue out to taste the salt on his skin. 

Between the pillar and Cassian, you have no room to move; you are only able to stay there and take what he gives you. The heat licking through your veins is so overwhelming that you feel feverish, Cassian groaning into your shoulder as you tighten around him. The pleasure has a sharp edge to it and you drink it in, determined to commit as much as you can to memory. You never want to forget this. 

It’s not long before you find yourself teetering on the brink of another orgasm. You’re so tightly wound that he could probably breathe on your clit and send you toppling over the edge. Instead, you slip one of your hands down and trace erratic, clumsy circles over the little bundle of nerves. 

Heat sears through you as you come, harder than last time. You sob against Cassian’s palm as all the tension that had been building releases at once, your heart beating so hard you wonder if Cassian can feel it against his chest. He groans against your shoulder as your cunt flutters around him, his fingers squeezing you tighter. 

His thrusts get sloppier, his hips stuttering as he chases his own release. You rake your fingers through his hair, letting your nails scratch his scalp and wishing you could sink them into his back instead. His mouth finds your neck again, giving into the urge to bite down on the delicate skin as he comes. He pushes himself as deeply inside you as he can, grinding against you until he’s spent. 

A hiss escapes through your teeth when he pulls out of you, come already starting to trickle down your thighs. You’re both silent for a while, trying to recover your breath and calm your racing hearts. Cassian gently eases your leg down and drops his other hand from over your mouth. Instead, he sweeps his thumb over the skin he’d bitten down on. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he whispers. Leaning heavily on the pillar for support, you shake your head.

“It’s okay. It’ll cover.” It’s low on your neck; if the collar of your dress can’t hide it, you have cosmetics that will. When he’s long gone, off on some barren world, it’ll be a reminder for you. 

“Are you sure that you’ll be alright?” He’s still stroking the tender skin, but you know he’s not just talking about whatever discomfort the bite might have inflicted. Infidelity would be a death sentence for you; such an embarrassment to the Commander would not be tolerated, even here on a relatively peaceful world. 

“I could tell my husband I pinched it in a necklace and he would believe me,” you say, trying to make light of it. For a moment, Cassian looks as though he might say something, but the moment passes. He busies himself with fixing his uniform, tucking himself back into his pants and retrieving his gloves and cap. 

“Take care of yourself, love,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss on your temple, “I’ll pass along what you told me.” 

“Be careful.” It’s a pointless warning - he always is - but it makes the corner of his mouth tug upwards anyway. You watch him as he disappears over the edge of the balcony to climb back down to the lower levels. 

Once he’s gone, your first order of business is a bath. Your thighs feel sticky, and you hope the warm water will help you relax. You’ve barely shut the balcony doors behind you when a sharp knock on your door makes you jump. 

“Yes? Who is it?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level as you tug your robe back around you, hoping it hides the mark on your neck. 

“Josolé, milady.” One of your handmaids. You breathe a sigh of relief; if they’d caught Cassian leaving, they would have sent a squadron. “We noticed the lights were still on in your suite; is there anything you need?” 

“No, thank you. I’ll be running a bath and then going to bed,” you call out in the direction of the still-closed door. Before you can turn towards the bathroom, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The bitemark is near the base of your throat, and you can’t help but run your fingers over it, just as Cassian had. All it would have taken was your handmaid disobeying your order to be left alone, and walking into your bedroom while you were on the balcony with Cassian. The idea of almost being caught unsettles you, and you resolve to be more cautious next time. 

You’re positive there will be a next time. 

[beccabarba]

Rain, Candlelight & Pumpkin Spice

Rafael Barba x Female Reader

Dedicated to @thatesqcrush​ who has had a lot going on lately, much of it stressful. And for her Kinktober Bingo, covering the ‘Vanilla/Soft’ square. 

Words: c. 1700

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Gentle but explicit, fingering and references to intercourse. 

Tags:  @thatesqcrush​​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​​ @witches-unruly-heart​​ @madamsnape921​​ @mrsrafaelbarba​​ @skittle479​​ @prurientpuddlejumper​​ @detective-giggles​​  @teamsladsandgents​​ @dreamlover31​​ @permanentlydizzy​​ @lv7867​​ @bisexual-dreamer02​​ @welcometothemxdhouse​​ @bananas-pajamas​​  @stardust-fray @feedthemadness-sweetie​​ @amelia-song-pond​​ @storiesofsvu​​ @alwaysachorusgirl​​ @beardsanddetectives​​​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​

***

Rain hammered against the window, as twilight darkened the room. You’d been reading, but it was too dim to make out the words now, so you’d discarded the book and pulled the soft blanket around your chilled hands. There was a long list of things you should be doing, but today just felt like a day you needed peace and warmth. It had been a long week, and you were tired to the point of starting to feel switched off, detached. At least it was the weekend, but the weather wasn’t conducive to reclaiming any of your lost energy.

Rafael had been at the office earlier, and you’d been glad of some time to yourself. You’d heard him return a few minutes ago, and he’d poked his head around the door to greet you. You saw the concern in his eyes, at the image of you huddled under a blanket, just staring into the gloomy room. You signed, hating that your mood was something else for him to worry about, as if he wasn’t already busy enough at work.

The door opened and Rafael appeared again, this time coming into the room. He’d taken off his shoes, and padded over to you in his striped socks, shirt loose at the collar. You couldn’t help but smile, as he put a mug down on the table next to the couch. You caught the scent, and raised an eyebrow at him. “Pumpkin spice?”

“Just because I don’t approve of coffee with so much syrup you can’t taste it, doesn’t mean you have to go without,” he said, with a grin. Rafael was such a coffee snob, and you know the drink wouldn’t be from Starbucks, but it did smell delicious, and soothing.

“Thank you,” you said appreciatively, reaching for it and cradling it, enjoying the warmth in your hands, and the scents of sweet spice.

“No problem. I brought dessert too. And I thought we could get dinner delivered – your choice.” Rafael sat down on the couch by your side and reached a hand out to softly stroke your upper leg.

“What have I done to deserve this?” you said, feeling his love like an extra blanket.

“Nothing in particular. I know you’ve had a tough few days and I wanted to take care of you. My prerogative, since you agreed to marry me.”

You instinctively felt for your engagement ring with the thumb of your left hand. Rafael had proposed on a late summer evening during your vacation in Provincetown, the setting sun glistening on the ocean. It seemed a far cry from this chill October day, but just remembering it brought some of that summer warmth back into your body.

“I’m very lucky, you know,” you told him.

“I love that you think you’re the lucky one.” You could see the tenderness in Rafael’s eyes. Sometimes you were amazed just how he seemed genuinely surprised that you loved him, enough to want to spend your life with him. He smiled softly, then looked around the room, now even darker. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said, and got to his feet.

You watched him curiously, as he left the room. He returned a few moments later, carrying the scented candles you kept the in the bathroom, and some matches. He found flat surfaces for the candles and struck matches, each candle adding a dancing glow to the room. “I hope you don’t mind a mixture of vanilla, rose, and…whatever sugar cookies smell like…” He turned to you and shrugged.

“Not at all.” You felt the tension melting from your body, with the gentle candlelight and scented air. You reached out a hand and Rafael took it in his fingers, coming back to join you on the couch. He sat back into the corner and urged you back against him. You put your coffee down and sat between his spread legs, as he wrapped his arms around you and you pulled the blanket over both of you. His face was close to your shoulder and he kissed the side of your head, and your neck softly, as you settled.

For a while, you were just quiet, breathing together and enjoying the closeness, the comfort. You were happier than you’d been all day, just being taken care of, just at peace with the man you loved. One of Rafael’s long fingered hands was resting on your tummy, beneath the blanket, and you suddenly needed more, to feel his skin on yours. You reached under the blanket and lifted your t-shirt moving his compliant hand to rest on your skin underneath it, and running your fingers over the veins on the back of his hand.

You sighed happily and tilted your head back against Rafael. “If I was a cat, I’d purr,” you told him. He laughed gently, and his other hand stroked your hair, as you pressed yourself back into his warmth. Then you felt a new sensation and smiled to yourself. “Mr Barba, are you getting aroused?” you said, trying to sound indignant, imagining his blush.

Rafael didn’t sound awkward though, as he whispered close to your ear. “It’s being so close to you, hermosa. I can’t help it. But we don’t need to do anything about it.” He delivered a little kiss to the soft skin behind your ear, as you felt arousal start to ripple through you.

“Who says I don’t want to do anything…” you said softly. Your fingers played over Rafael’s hand with more intent.

“Hmm, is that so?” he breathed against the side of your neck.

“Mmm,” you replied, wriggling against him.

“Then why don’t you show me where you’d like my hand?” he murmured.

“But…” you started to protest, since you’d been thinking about him and what he might want.

“Show me,” he said, and his voice had just enough of the dominance he turned on in your kinkier moments, that you didn’t want to argue. It made you tingle in your core, and that was exactly where you needed his touch. You grabbed his hand and pushed it lower, beneath the fabric of your sweats and your underwear. You gasped at the feel of his fingers making intimate contact with you and starting to stroke softly. At first, his touch was light and teasing, but gradually he started to explore your folds, fingertips circling your clit and starting to flood you with sensations.

“Ohh, Raf, that feels so good…” you sighed happily, and in response, his fingers shifted to start to rub in the sweet spot he knew so well, while his other hand moved to cup and caress your breast through your t-shirt. You tipped your head back against him and moaned softly. “Raf…you know it won’t take that long if you keep this up…”

“I know,” he replied, and his breath on your neck made you shiver. “That’s what I want, I want you to relax completely for me, my love.” His tone was loving, but you could hear the hint of his own lust in it too. “We can take care of me later. When we go to bed, I want to make love to you. But now, I want you to come for me.”

You breathed harder, as his fingers slid lower, and he curled two of them to slip inside you, easing them in and out. He knew exactly how to draw your sensations, and hearing the wet sound his actions made only increased your feeling of arousal. “I knew you wouldn’t be too tired to get nice and wet for me,” he whispered softly, and then he spread your wetness through your folds, returning his fingers to your clit, rubbing with the perfect technique.

Your eyes were half closed. There was just the flickering glow of the candles in the dimly lit room, the warmth and scent of Rafael behind you, his thick arms surrounding you, and his hands on your body. Your orgasm was building, the tension coiling low in your body.

“Oh, Raf… I wish you were inside me,” you moaned, softly.

“Soon, mi amor, soon. But this is all about you. Relax…” Even as he told you to relax, the pressure and speed of his fingers intensified. “I can’t wait to be inside you, it feels so good…” he murmured in your ear, and you could picture it so clearly, his body undulating over yours, his weight pressing down on you as he filled you perfectly, that the image added to the growing sensations.

You could feel his hard cock pressing against your body, hear that his voice was growing ragged with arousal every time he spoke. And yet you knew he would keep his promise and take care of you before anything else happened. The rhythm of his fingers was steady now, and it was hard to think about anything other than how his touch was making you feel.

Rafael knew you well, and when your body started to tense, your breathing shallow, he knew how close you were. Pleasure was flowing through your body in waves, making it hard to speak. “Gonna come, Raf…I’m gonna…” you managed.

“Hush, y/n, hush…that’s it, good girl, come for me, come for me now…” he said. And your body heard the words before your mind had chance to worry about it, your climax starting to shake your whole body, the epicentre where his fingers still massaged your clit. You yelled out your pleasure in the quiet room, a sound of emotional release as well as your physical one.

As you started to relax, each pass of his fingers was making your body shiver with too much sensation. Slowly, he stopped rubbing, cupping you with his big hand softly, letting you press against him until the aftershocks subsided. His other hand was back on your hair, stroking softly.

“Oh my god, Raf,” you murmured. “Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he replied. “It’s always my pleasure to take care of you.”

“You do it so well, my love.”

Rafael chuckled. “I do, don’t I?”

You laughed and turned your head to see his little smirk and the sparkle in his green eyes. “So, are you going to show me what else you’re good at?”

He grinned and his fingers caressed you in a way that made you shiver. “All in good time. Drink your travesty of a coffee and we’ll see.”

[plaidbooks]

Here

A/N: Y’all can blame @storiesofsvu​ for this fic! It’s a Joe Velasco x reader fic that covers the Vanilla/Soft square in @thatesqcrush​ kinktober bingo!

Tags: brief mention of svu-type stuff (blink and you miss it), p in v sex

Words: 1464

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @beardsanddetectives​

You were busy in the kitchen when Joe came home. You heard the front door close softly, and instead of Joe’s voice greeting you as he shrugged off his jacket, it was silent. After checking the food on the stove, you went out towards the foyer to welcome him home.

As you expected, he had a thousand-yard stare, his shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world rested squarely on him. You said nothing, just came right up to him and enveloped him in your arms. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, breathing in your scent before he regained himself.

“Hey darling, how was your day?” he asked, in some semblance of normalcy. But his little grin didn’t meet his eyes.

Your hands traveled from his back down his arms until you linked your fingers loosely with his. “My day was fine…. Did you want to talk about it, or forget about it?”

He knew you meant his day. “Forget—at least for now.”

You nodded; Joe usually liked to process his emotions and thoughts before telling you about it. So, you dropped one of his hands, but held onto the other, and led him to the kitchen. He sniffed appreciatively at the food simmering on the stove and squeezed your hand in a silent thanks.

“Do you want a drink with dinner? Wine, beer, something stronger?” you asked.

“Just a beer, please.” He squeezed your hand once more before going to grab a beer from the fridge, then going to sit.

Dinner was mostly a silent affair; the only sounds were the scrapings of your forks and knifes on the plates. At first, you had tried to talk about things not related to work, but Joe wasn’t in a talking mood. By his furrowed brow, you could tell he was deep in thought about whatever happened today.

It wasn’t until after dinner, when you were doing the dishes, that he joined you. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms loosely around you, hands on your belly.

“I’m sorry I’ve been in a funk tonight,” he muttered before kissing the nape of you neck.

You smiled softly, though he couldn’t see it. “It’s okay, babe. I know work can get to you sometimes—”

“But it’s not okay that I repay you with silence.”

You turned to look over your shoulder at him, trying to catch his eye. “Repay me? For what?”

You could feel him smile against your skin before he moved to look at you. “Where to start? For being here, dinner ready and waiting. For dealing with my sour mood. For being so understanding.” His eyes softened, then he said, “for being here.”

You turned off the sink, dried your hands, and turned in his arms. His expression was so soft and vulnerable that you couldn’t stop yourself; you lifted to your tiptoes, lips pressing to his softly. The kiss didn’t last long, just a promise of your love.

“I’ll always be here for you, Jose Velasco. I know work can be hard—”

“That’s putting it mildly,” he sighed. “I swear, for every bastard we put away, five more pop up. There’s always another rapist, another wife beater, another child mol—”

“But think of all the people you help by putting away just one. You’re not doing nothing, Joe; you’re still making a positive difference in the world.”

He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head and looking away from you. “Sometimes, it’s hard to remember that there’s still good in this city, this world. Do people genuinely love each other anymore?”

You cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “I love you, Jose, genuinely.”

He softened in your hold, his stubble tickling your hand as he leaned harder against it. “I know, sweetheart—I didn’t mean to imply—”

“You didn’t,” you gazed into his hazel eyes, trying to show him you weren’t offended by his comment. “But I want you to remember that no matter what happens at work, you are loved by at least one person.”

“Always. I always remember. Whenever I have a bad day, I look through pictures of us on my phone,” he confessed.

You grinned at that, and he mirrored your smile—a genuine smile this time, one that brightened his face. Slowly, you leaned towards him, and this time, he met you in the middle, kissing you slow and deep.

Dishes forgotten, you both stumbled your way to the bedroom, lips only breaking to remove clothes. You felt the mattress against the back of your legs, and you fell back on it, completely naked. Joe fell with you, covering your body with his, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You ran your hands through his short hair, reveling at the softness while his mouth moved lower. He found the weak spot on your neck instantly, knowing exactly where to nip to drive you wild. You whined, wrapping your body around him, wordlessly telling him how needy you were for him.

He understood, and he shifted until his hard cock was nudging at your entrance. Before he pushed in, though, he moved to look deep into your eyes. He watched your face contort in pleasure as he pushed into you, sinking inch after inch in until he was fully seated.

You reached down to his butt, gripping him and pulling his hips closer, trying to take him as deep as he could go. Joe chuckled at that, then moved to grab your hands. He linked his fingers with yours, then pinned your hands by your head. With a soft kiss to your nose, he started to move.

You moaned his name, and he, in turn, kissed every inch of your face, his lips feather soft. There was something so passionate and intimate in the way he moved—slow and deep, not in any hurry to finish. Every thrust was a reminder that you were his, just as he was yours.

“I love you,” he muttered against your forehead. He planted a kiss there before coming to your lips, swallowing your moans as he picked up the pace.

You felt your orgasm building deep inside you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper on every thrust. Understanding swept through him, and he released one of your hands.

Joe wiggled his free hand between your bodies, searching for your clit. He grinned when you moaned, and he knew he had found it. Crooking his finger, he started rubbing you quickly, and you whined, thrashing underneath him. You knew that he loved the power he had over your pleasure, how he could make you tremble with one finger.

With your now free hand, you gripped his bicep hard enough to bruise as he brought you closer to that tipping point.

“Jo—Jose,” you muttered, letting him know how close you were. He glanced up at you, finger and cock not slowing down. His eyes were dark with lust as he watched you hit your high, his name on your lips.

He adored watching you come undone on him, and he watched your face while he fucked you through your orgasm. Finally, he pulled his hand away from your clit and to his lips. He sucked his finger into his mouth, his eyes rolling back and a hum deep in his throat from the taste.

“God, you’re so sweet—so perfect,” Joe said, his voice thick and raspy. You felt new fire forming in your belly at his words, and you whimpered.

He grinned, kissing you and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. And then he gripped your hip with his free hand and started pounding into you. You let out a wrecked moan, tightening your hold on his bicep and hand.

It didn’t take long for his hips to stutter, his breath coming in short pants. You knew he was close, and you wanted his release as much as he did.

“I love you, Jose—love you so much,” you whispered into his ear. That’s all it took for him to spill into you. He let out a deep groan, his chest vibrating against yours as he filled you with his release. His hips spasmed against yours, milking himself with your body.

“F—fuck—darling, I—wow—” he said between breaths.

Body going boneless, he collapsed on top of you, and you both laid there in a sweaty heap, trying to catch your breaths.

“I love you, Jose—”

He cut you off with a deep kiss, all his love and affection behind it.

“I love you, too,” he muttered against your lips, “I love coming home to you. I love having you by my side. I love everything about you. I love you.”

[adarafaelbarba]

Forgive me father for I have sinned

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x reader

Fandom: Law and Order SVU

Square(s): Edging/orgasm denial - @thatesqcrush 's kink bingo

You were absolutely fuming as you made your way to Father Carisi’s office. The feelings of embarrassment and anger mixing around in your mind.

Those bitches in the church had NO business calling you all those names. But you guessed, since you were pretty new there and they had no idea who you were they just assumed you were a whore — Just cause I showed up late to church one Sunday morning with a few hickeys on my neck doesn’t mean I’m a whore Janet — unlike you who sleep with three other men behind your husband’s back, that definitely classifies you as a cheating whore, you thought to yourself.

Not even bothering to knock, you stormed into his office, hands on crossed in front of you.

«Miss. y/l/n! What can I do for you?» He looked surprised to see you, as if he hadn’t been balls deep in you a few nights before.

«Have you heard what they call me?» «Who?»

«The women in  the church. Talking behind my back as if I can’t hear them loud and clear.»

«And what exactly are they calling you, miss y/l/n?»

«Do you really think that is appropriate to repeat in church, Father Carisi?»

He shuddered at the way you said his name.

«Tell me. I can’t help you unless I know the full story»

«They called me a whore, a prostitute, a skank! They called me so many disgusting, degrading names!»

Sonny’s face fell, and he got out of his chair, making his way over to you. Just before he stopped in front of you though he made a b-line for the door, locking it.

«I don’t know what to do here okay.»

«No. Not okay! My reputation is tarnished! And if I go down for this I’m telling everyone just who made me a whore, just wait, I’m taking you down with me!»

«Please—don’t!» He was stunned, pleading with you not to do that. He could never recover from that and be a priest again. His family would hang him for it. «Just—please—my hands are tied.»

«I don’t give a fuck, okay. Help me fix this or I’m never touching you again!»

He came closer, arms ghosting over yours. «Don’t do that—I need—need ya!»

You scoffed at it, «I’m leaving. Goodbye Father Carisi.»

«y/n, please!»

The way he whined almost had you turning back to him. You absolutely loved when he became a needy little thing for you. But you stood your ground.

«Don’t.»

«Let me make it up to ya?»

«How?»

«Anything ya want—ya can do it to me—»

«Anything?» You turned to him, a raised eyebrow.

«Yes, anything, please I can’t lose ya.»

His hand reaches out to touch your face, and this time you don’t move away.

«I’m going home. And as soon as you’re done here, come over for your punishment.»

«Y—yes ma’am.»

«Good boy.»

The sound that came from him was needier then you’ve ever heard him before.

After all it was the first time you had called him that. 

~~~

It took only another hour after you got home before Sonny showed up and let himself in. Once the door was closed and locked he called out for you.

«In here, father», you called back, moaning a little as you rubbed your vibrator up and down your clit.

«Did ya start without me?» 

If anything he sounded a little hurt, but you simply smirked and continued what you were doing.

«You took too long. Also, this is part of your punishment.»

You could laugh at his expression if a jolt of extreme pleasure didn’t shoot up your body at that very moment, and you were instead left moaning loudly.

«Please—let me have ya—need to—be inside ya», he begged, but you shot him an angry look.

Telling him he had to wait until you were done, and to not touch himself, or you, you went back to getting yourself off.

As you came, it was his name that slipped your lips.

«y/n, please, let me have you—» Sonny begged, moving towards you on the bed.

But instead you removed the toys and got out of bed. «You do as I tell you, father.» You purred, your lips ghosting over his. «Strip and get on the bed.»

He quickly did as he was told. 

«What a good boy for me.»

You wished you could tattoo the look he was giving you at the insides of your eye, and have the sounds slipping from his lips forever playing in your ears.

«Now you’re going to continue being good—you’re not allowed to cum unless I tell you—that’s your punishment.»

«Y—ya can’t—do that—to me!»

«I can, and I will.»

And with that you wrapped your lips around his cock, sucking him slowly, pulling every pleasured sounds out of him. Just as he was about to cum, you stopped, pulling off him.

Sonny lost count after three, becoming more desperate with every denial. «Please—can’t take anymore edging.»

It was cute how you could reduce him to this mess of a man, when he was so well put together in general, especially in church. 

«You can take more—»

«N—no—can’t—too much!» He cried, and you were sure he was going to pull your safe word.

But he didn’t. No matter what he stayed strong. You found it amusing, but also filled you with so much pride.

«One more time—after that I’ll let you cum.»

«Doll—please—»

«Be a good boy for me and I’ll reward you.»

He nodded his head in defeat, and you took him back in your mouth, edging him forward. And again stopping when he got close.

Popping him back out of your mouth you got up and grabbed your vibrator. There wasn’t going to be much time to get off once you sunk down on him, so you would have to make the most of it.

As soon as you were fully on him, his hands went to your hips, holding you there for a moment.

You could see it on his face that he was really struggling to stop himself.

«Fuck me, Sonny, use me to get off.» Your voice was soft as you spoke, smiling down at him.

He groaned at that, thrusting up into you with desperation.

It didn’t take him long to cum, crying out in pleasure as he filled you. Collapsing on the bed after, completely spent.

You stopped moving your hips and instead focused on getting yourself off with the vibrator, cuming not too long after.

With one last tremor, you collapse on top of him, breathing heavily.

«Are you okay, Sonny?»

«Y—yeah—that was—intense!»

You chuckled at that. «Yeah that was—something for sure.»

«I really am sorry for how they treat you—»

«Let’s not talk about that now. Especially when you’re balls deep inside me.»

He groaned, making you laugh before leaning in to kiss him.

«I’ll find my revenge on them, don’t worry.»

«Don’t say that—it’ll make me worry!»

yeah, you were definitely getting back at those bitches, and it would burn worse than they burned her.

~~~~

Tag list:

@thatesqcrush @storiesofsvu @plaidbooks @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @bidisasterforben @misscharlielulu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @bisexual-dreamer02 @xoxabs88xox @beatrice-san @meetmeatyourworst @bullet-prooflove

[thatesqcrush]

The Auction: A Hole in One

Bryan Kneef x reader - semi public sex square for my bingo. NSFW, implied sex, vaginal fingering, language. Totally inspired by that golf scene in 365. WC: 1608

—

When you awoke the following morning, Bryan was still in bed. His breath moved in and out in a steady rhythm. In sleep, he was not the intimidating presence he was while awake. There was no intense, dark staring to contend with. The angry lines of his face softened. The muscles of his body relaxed and melded into the bedding around him.

Your stomach growled and you decided to get up to order breakfast. Your body ached as you stood. You were sore in the most delightful of ways and from a passing mirror, you could see your skin was littered with bruises and beard rash. There was a pamphlet on the TV console and you perused the options before calling downstairs.

Bryan was still in a deep sleep, so you took the opportunity to shower. The water was hot, with steam filling the room. You looked at the choices of shampoos, conditioners and body wash - there were more than your usual tiny plastic bottles. You picked the most pleasing scent and lathered and scrubbed the prior night away. You wondered if today would be the last time and Bryan would send you home or if there was to be more. There was a part of you that wanted more, but there was also a part that wanted you to put this behind you.

The door opened. Bryan stood nude in the doorway, his cock already half hard.

“Is there room for one more?”

You opened the door to the shower and smiled.

—

With the money you received, you were able to pay off your debt and use your leftover funds to find a new apartment in a better area. You looked upon your time with Bryan as a fun, financial betterment opportunity but nothing else more.

It was not as if you hadn’t been encouraged to come back by Cordelia. You definitely were. But once was more than enough and you wanted to put the experience behind you. Bryan had been an incredible, generous lover. And you were certain he had moved on the second you had left the hotel.

It turns out, you were incorrect.

To your surprise, Bryan had reached out to you directly. You weren’t certain as to how he had your direct contact information, but you had a feeling it was given with a price tag.

Bryan had texted you about accompanying him on a Firm golf outing which was serving as an event to cater existing clients and court new ones. You chewed your bottom lip. The only kind of golf you had played was put put as a kid. You told Bryan as much and the next day, a dangerously short, sleeveless polo dress in your size arrived along with a thin scrap of material that dared call itself underwear. You slipped it on and gave yourself a once over in the mirror. The note from Bryan simply said, ‘wear this.’

The Chicago Golf Club is an exclusive, invite-only luxury club. Originally it was one of the five founders of what would become known as USGA, the governing body of golf sports. Initiation fees were in the six figures and so it was no surprise that Bryan was a member. Bryan was already at the club when you had arrived. You smirked as all eyes were on you as you sauntered in wearing your little polo dress. You recognized some men from the auction, including the man whose bid Bryan had annihilated. The look Bryan gave you as he raked in the sight of you was positively predatory.

The v neck of the dress was just cut low enough that he could watch your breasts bounce with each step, and the skirt, which skimmed your mid thighs, gave Bryan an ample view of your gams. You turned on the charm, being a dutiful conversationalist, draped over Bryan. You don’t know how to play and Bryan took the opportunity to personally assist. He nestled himself behind you. You pushed yourself back, body molding into his and you can feel his cock pressed against your ass.

The tips of his fingers ghosted down your arms. His breath was hot in your ear. “You want to make sure that you don’t milk the grip.”

You turned slightly to Bryan, your brow arched. “Come again?”

Bryan smirked and his eyes twinkled.

“You don’t want to switch your grip mid swing. It's a common mistake. In order to correct that, you will want to check your grip on the club before beginning your swing and after in order to have the correct pressure to ensure a solid stroke.”

“Oh and here I was just thinking it was something you wanted me to do to you,” you replied, with an innocent lilt to your voice.

You pressed yourself against Bryan a little more firmly with a wiggle. Bryan let out a quiet groan.

You cheered inwardly and then put your focus on the small white ball. You swung and watched as the ball flew across the green. You let out a squeal and then turned to face Bryan. His hand rested on your lower back, keeping you close to him.

“Nice shot,” Bryan commended. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. His mouth dropped to your ear. “Keep it up and you can milk something else with your grip later.”

You pulled away, giving him a doe eyed look before batting your lashes. “Promise?”

–

After 18 holes, you and Bryan decided to hang back at the clubhouse for cocktails and lunch. You were sitting next to Bryan, when a shadow loomed over you, someone making their presence known.

You looked up and recognized the man instantly. It was the man who Bryan outbid. He introduced himself as Jake Táborsky and he was a colleague of Bryan’s. Well, more like firm rivals you deduced as they began to get into a heated conversation about the merits of some legal matter. You began to scroll on your phone when you felt Bryan’s hand on your thigh. You looked over at Bryan and his focus was entirely on Jake. You returned to your phone, reading an article on Buzzfeed when you felt his fingers slipping towards your inner thigh. The intent was clear - he was planning to tease you under the table. You surreptitiously spread your legs, still keeping your interest on your phone. Bryan’s fingers moved to your clothed cunt. Bryan used his free hand to grab his lowball of whiskey, hiding his upturned lips.

His hand slipped back to your inner thigh, before sliding back up. He pushed aside the laced hem of your panty, seeking the warm wetness of your cunt that he knew awaited him. Bryan continued his diatribe with Jake, occasionally stealing glances towards you.

He was actually finding your composure through the whole thing pretty impressive. Even when his thumb flicked over your clit, your face remained relatively stoic.

He rubbed circles over where you needed, occasionally letting the tips of his fingers dig into your dripping, slick slit, wishing he could replace his fingers with his mouth like he had done prior. He’d never forget the sounds you made or the feeling of your juices coating his beard as your body quaked around his tongue.

You might have come across nonplussed, but no one could see your free hand gripping your thigh tightly. You bit your cheek in an attempt to hold back the moan you so desperately wanted to let out as Bryan fingerfucked you under the table. His long, thick fingers slid in and out of you with ease. The fabric in the cushion of the seat was saturated with your juices.

Your name being called sharply shook you back into reality. You looked up and Jake was looking at you. “Is Bryan treating you right? You know, you could have it much better with me sweetheart.”

Bryan’s fingers inside of you stilled and your whole body was electrified. His thumb skated gently over your clit, causing you to jump in your seat. Jake’s eyes were sinister and his lips twitched as if wanting to smile - as if he knew what was happening under the table.

“Bryan is all I need,” you reply, your voice a shade higher than normal. “He takes very good care of me both financially and in other ways.”

Bryan’s fingers resumed their action and you felt the coil in your belly ready to snap. Bryan felt it too because he pulled you flush to him and kissed you hard, near obscenely, swallowing your moans and whimpers and cries as you come around his fingers.

Jake let out a humph and walked away. Bryan withdrew his hand and you shuddered in his embrace, ducking your head into his neck. Bryan grabbed the cloth napkin and wiped his fingers.

“How about we get out of here,” Bryan commented and you nodded. You stood on shaky legs and linked your arm with Bryan’s. “I don’t want to play games anymore.”

“Really?” You questioned. “That’s a shame because I was really hoping you’d pound me like a range ball.”

Bryan laughed. “And you said you didn’t know golf.”

You shrugged. “I’m good with puns. But I’m also good at other things as you know.”

Bryan turned to you and lifted your chin. The pad of his thumb ran over your bottom lip. “Very much so.”

There was a flash of pink from your tongue as you licked the pad of his thumb. Bryan let out a small groan.

“So how about you get me out of this ridiculous dress?” You asked softly.

“Sweetheart, I love the way you think.”

FIN.

—

Tags:

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[aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide]

Pairing is Robert Goren + Original Character (Law & Order: Criminal Intent) for the THIGH RIDING square of ThatEsqCrush's Kinktober Bingo.

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: Endgame, Untethered

Trigger/Content Warnings: Vague reference to choking, bar/strip club environment, vague reference to mental health, alcohol, frottage, thigh riding

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

Approximation

By the time Bobby stopped searching the sea of faces on the sidewalks, even the rise of the pavement meeting his feet felt as slanted as his worldview. Donny wasn't there, of course - finding him was just another item on a long list of things that Bobby seemed to have been failing at for the past year.

Or perhaps for his entire life. He was no longer sure how much he gave a damn, either way.

When his feet stopped moving, though, he heard Frank's voice again - proof that there was at least one thing he still gave a damn about:

"Just take Eames to a motel and get it out of your system!"

Frank had no idea how close he had come to death; Bobby had actually felt the bones of his brother's neck snapping like dry kindling crying out for flame. Most everything else that Frank ever garbled out was just noise, just so much static that never hit home because they were brothers by blood but hardly knew each other at all.

But somehow . . . somehow Frank had known about Eames, as soon as he'd laid eyes on her down a busy street. He had known, and Bobby was angry and frightened at being recognized, being seen by his brother that way. It was as if Frank had reached inside his head and pulled out the exact words that Bobby would mutter to his own self sometimes. When he caught himself gazing at his partner too long, or sitting at home on a Saturday night with his hand creeping past the waistband of his pyjamas.

Just get it out of your system.

The idea only worked, however, if he believed it was just about sex. Bobby wasn't sure there was a big enough fool in all of New York to believe that one.

He stopped walking, vaguely aware of the crowd now parting and flowing around the obstacle he had become. The lights hurt his eyes, still bothering him since Tates (among many other things), as he tried to identify just where he was.

Instead of familiar landmarks, what loomed out at him was a garishly lit sign for some kind of strip club, and suddenly Bobby Goren was dying for a drink. Bobby was parched, as a matter of fact. So he followed the sign inside, just another doomed phototactic creature in the Summer night.

The music in the club was muted, a mid-range warble just loud enough to discourage real conversation, and a couple girls were dancing on a small stage while most were smiling politely in booths with the clientele. Bobby didn't really register any of them yet, too fixed on bellying up to the bar. He ordered three shots of expensive Scotch and knocked them back in succession before sliding a platinum credit card to the bar tender. Nodding his head in the direction of an empty booth, he told the man to keep drinks coming, then went to take a seat.

Bobby'd hardly been seated long enough to contemplate his drink when the first woman approached him. She was tall, with long black hair and high breasts. He greeted her politely, even managed a fascimile of a smile, but she drifted away quickly when he didn't ask her to take a seat. A redhead followed behind, then a Black woman with a long, swinging braid, and the scene replayed itself twice more.

"I suppose you're going to send me away, too, huh Lurch?"

Bobby startled at the sound of the voice - nearly convinced it was his partner, it was so similar. It wasn't Alexandra, however the woman who stood across the table was also petite, with blonde-leading-on brunette hair and a smile like Eames': cute yet somehow stern.

"Lurch?" he echoed.

"Because you're so tall," she chuckled.

"What's your name?" Bobby asked, sure that it would be Alex in some cruel twist of Fate.

"Kelli." He gestured at the free space alongside him in the booth, and she took her time sliding into it. "Unless, of course, your wife's name is the same."

Draining his rum and coke, he signalled for another. "I'm not married," he said simply.

"Really? You look miserable enough for it," Kelli responded, and her eyes lit up when it got a breathless chuff of laughter out of him.

"Would you like a drink?"

Bobby wasn't the least bit surprised when she ordered a Bourbon.

"So. Want to tell me why the long face?" she prodded.

Bobby took his time before answering with, "I lost someone."

"Girlfriend?"

He shook his head.

"Wow," Kelli exhaled over her Bourbon, "for a guy with no wife and no girlfriend, you look real bad off. Must have been some loss."

"It was . . . someone I could have saved."

She regarded him with her hazel eyes that were so like Alexandra's. "I don't believe that. If people are gonna fuck up, then they fuck up. If they're gonna come around eventually, then they do. Everything else is just time."

Bobby didn't want to believe that, either, but he admired the simplicity.

"Is that what you do for a living?"

"What's that?"

"Try to save people. A doctor?" she guessed.

"No."

"Shrink?"

"God, no," he chuckled.

"Good, 'cause you might need one yourself," she teased, and bumped his shoulder with her own.

He liked her laugh, but would never tell her. "I'm a police Detective."

She eyed him for a long moment, sizing him up with more interest. "You come lookin' to check the permits or somethin'? Jerry runs a clean place. Take my word for it."

Goren finished another drink. "I don't give a fuck about the permits. Or Jerry," he sniffed, ordering more liquor.

"I believe it." They sat in silence for a few minutes, nursing their drinks. "So what do you want?" she tried. "It's obviously not small talk, and if y'wanted a lap dance, you'd have sat closer to the stage. What's the secret?"

Not that long ago, he had been strapped to a table in a prison, eyeball-deep in his own raving madness, practically crying for a mother he no longer had. And this woman wanted to know why he didn't look like a man who wanted a lap dance. Bobby swallowed his drink and relished the burn of the liquor while he searched for an answer.

What did he want? He wanted Donny back. He wanted his mother. He wanted his partner to be proud of him, to not have to put up with the pitying looks the rest of One-PP gave her when they thought he wasn't paying attention. More than all of that, in that moment in that muted shitty strip bar, Bobby wanted to be a man who looked like he wanted . . . something.

Downing his drink, Bobby screwed his eyes shut and let out a sigh that was also half a groan. "C'mere." His big hands reached for her without waiting for a response. He knew she'd let him.

The petite woman fit in his lap with room to spare. She remained silent, merely curious where it was heading. When Goren parted his knees, Kelli instinctually settled her thighs over his leg. God, he was big. The flex of his leg muscle alone sent a rush of goosebumps through her. With his hands still heavy on her hips, he fixed his gaze at her waist and gently encouraged her to rock.

Bobby shut his eyes again, focusing on his sense of touch as the club drifted away. He could feel the clench and release of her leg muscles, the thin outlined ridge of the pair of short shorts she had on, and before long the insistent jut of her hard clit.

He wanted to get it out of his system.

He let out another soft, sighing groan which spurred Kelli to grind harder against him. She was soaking her shorts, and soon it was another sensation he acknowledged. Fingers fluttered curiously over where he'd grown hard inside his pants.

"Tell me your name,' Kelli murmured near his ear, still chasing her pleasure while his femoris muscle battered her clit.

"Robert."

She cupped him, stroking him as best she could through the unforgiving material of his pants, allowing herself for just a moment to imagine what it would be like to let the hulk of a cop fuck her with what she assumed was a proportionately hulking cock. It drew a muffled whimper from her, which in turn made his cock twitch.

It was just another Tuesday night, and Kelli was about to come on this guy's leg. She smirked and leaned in to his ear again.

"Tell me her name," she breathed.

He responded 'Whose?" But he knew.

"The woman you're picturing dripping all over your thigh," she chuckled. "It's ok, I'll let you call me that - whatever it is."

She increased pressure against where her hand was still keeping his interest up. Bobby was hard, a little drunk, exhausted; his eyes rolled in pleasure and sensory overload.

"Alex," he confessed. He licked his lips. "Alexandra."

She matched the rhythm of her rocking to the stroke of her hand over his bulge. "Alexandra," she echoed, and her voice, so like his partner's, was what did him in.

The smug satisfaction in feeling him stiffen and grunt beneath her got Kelli off, trembling on his thigh as she left the evidence on his pants. She gave him a few minutes before she backed off of his lap, still smiling personably. There was a swig left of Bobby's drink and she slaked her dry throat with it.

"Come back any time, Robert," she said quietly. A moment later and she was on her feet, walking toward the back of the room where the club dissolved into dressing rooms and bathroom stalls.

Bobby looked around a bit sheepishly, wondering if others had been watching, but found the room still just a dim getaway full of people looking to escape themselves. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he decided he would get his credit card back from the bartender and go home.

Maybe he would call Alex when he got there.

END

[storiesofsvu]

Not Done With You

Joe Velasco x reader Warnings: language, smut. Covers the "vanilla/soft" square for @thatesqcrush kinktober. A direct follow up to THIS piece, but can still be read on its own. I originally was going to make it all one, although this wasn't how it was going to end up, and then got lazy with part 1 but then today was thinking about how to finish off bingo and realized I could match it up, so....here ya go!

It only took a moment longer before you let out a loud whine, your orgasm rocking through you as your legs attempted to close around him. He sucked at your clit, tongue flicking at it a few more times before he let it go, watching with lust blown eyes as your body trembled.

“Holy shit…” You muttered, attempting to catch your breath, “you are really fucking good at that.”

Joe let out a soft chuckle, crawling up your body to leave a breathless kiss on your lips, “yeah?” he smirked, “’cause I am definitely not done with you sweetheart.”

*

“You better not be.” You laughed into the kiss, catching the gleam in his eyes as he grinned down at you. Your hands easily found the buckle of his belt, un doing it and his pants, shoving them down along with his boxer briefs.

Joe’s hand shot to his pocket, pulling a condom out before eagerly kicking off his pants and underwear. One of his arms wound around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him as he kissed you and you let out a small gasp into the kiss at the feeling of his length against your thigh, thick and hard, the wet feeling of pre-cum smearing against your skin. One of your hands snuck between your bodies, palming at his cock and he let out a little hiss, his eyes scrunching shut as his body rocked into the touch, his face burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re not getting shy on me now are you?” You asked with a tease in your voice, your hand wrapping around his cock and giving him a few strokes.

“No.” He groaned out, leaving a kiss on the side of your neck, “just been a while, don’t wanna come too soon.”

“Take all the time you need, but I don’t mind either way, you already made me come.” You murmured back, your free hand scratching into his hair and he groaned at the feeling.

“Need to feel you…” he muttered, pushing himself up onto his haunches, settled between your legs on the sectional. You watched with lust filled eyes, unable to control yourself as they drifted down to his cock, feeling yourself throb at the sight of it hard and ready. He ripped open the condom packet and sheathed himself with it. One hand around the base of his cock he lined it up to your entrance, eyes drifting up to catch your gaze, “you still okay?”

“Yes.” You smiled, letting out a little giggle at the adorable way he continually checked in with you.

Joe let out a little breath, tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, already feeling the warmth and wetness coming from it. He slowly sunk into you until his hips met yours and you both let out a very satisfied groan. His dick twitched within your pussy and you couldn’t help the little whine, your hips rocking up against him and he groaned.

“Move.. please…” You begged, your hand reaching down to tangle with his, splayed on your thigh.

“Fuck…” he grunted, pulling out of you til just the head of his cock was still inside of you before plunging back in, “god you feel good.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, head dropping back against the couch while Joe picked up the pace, cock thrusting eagerly in and out of you. The perfect curve of his cock hit your sensitive spot with each thrust, dragging across your walls, stretching you out perfectly. He rolled his hips with expertise, knowing just where you needed it to hit, as he leant forward over you, his body began to rub against your throbbing clit with each thrust. Your hands clawed at his body, tugging him closer to you to feel the weight of him on top of you, pinning you into the couch.

“Oh god, don’t stop!” You cried out as Joe toppled over you, your legs winding around his waist, heels digging into his back, urging him to thrust deeper and harder into you.

“Fuck… you’re so tight.” He moaned, lips brushing against your neck as he spoke, hips continuing to thrust against you, feeling the way your pussy was squeezing around him, the little tremors running through your body causing his own to shiver.

His arms wound around you, holding you tight to him as he continued to fuck you, your hips beginning to rock up to meet his thrusts. Your words became a string of breathless moans and whimpers, the sounds echoing through the room only ones of pleasure and skin on skin, wetness from your pussy coating his cock and smearing across both of your thighs.

“’M’not gonna last.” Joe groaned, “need you to come for me sweetheart.”

“Touch me…” You nearly whimpered back, your cunt clenching down around him and he let out a quiet swear. A hand snuck down between your bodies, the pads of his fingers easily finding your throbbing nub and he began to rub at it, hard and fast, picking up the pace of his thrusts to match his rhythm. You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan, the walls of your pussy pulsing around his thickness.

“Shit!” The swear snuck from his lips at the feeling, his cock twitching and throbbing deep within you. He felt the warmth of your juices shooting around him, dribbling down onto the couch beneath you as your body trembled, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as your hips stilled against him. Your nails dug into the skin of his back, teeth biting into his shoulder as your orgasm continued to burst through you.

“Oh god… oh god…” You panted, body still quaking in aftershocks as Joe picked up the pace, grunting and groaning into your ear as he chased his own release. You both knew it wouldn’t take long, each thrust had his cock twitching harder and longer until he let out a loud moan and stilled within you.

“Fuck…” He swore, body dropping onto you as he spilled into the condom. His cock throbbed a couple more times, cum filling up the condom as your pussy fluttered around him, “holy shit…”

You let out a small giggle and he chuckled, pulling his head up from the crook of your neck, a dopey grin on his cheeks as he looked down on you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking softly at your skin before he ducked down, his lips meeting yours in a lazy kiss. Your arms wound around him, hands softly tangling into his hair, playing with the soft locks as you hummed into the kiss, legs dropping back down to the couch.

“Well that certainly was a much better way to end my night than I was expecting.” You muttered, pulling another quiet laugh from him.

“Who says it has to be over now?” He asked and you laughed.

Joe sat up, pulling out of you and you let out a soft whine, causing him to lean over you to press a soft kiss to your lips before he stood from the couch to rid himself of the condom. He tugged a blanket from the side of the sectional, draping it over you before crossing to the kitchen, tossing the condom into the garbage and pulling open the fridge.

“You want a beer?”

“Yes please.” You called back, burrowing yourself into the blanket, “you got any snacks?”

“Not really, but I can order a pizza.” He replied, moving through the space, a smile on his face as he took in the sight of you burrowed on his couch, dazed smile on your face.

“Sounds perfect.” Smiling, you accepted the beers and the cheers he offered before taking a sip and letting him slip under the blanket with you.

Joe settled himself behind you, a sturdy arm wrapping around your waist as he placed you between his legs, resting on his chest. He turned the tv on and you scrolled through a few options before settling on a movie to start the rest of your night with. It was only when his stomach grumbled that he remembered the pizza and picked up his phone to make a quick order, much to your delight.

Today certainly had turned out a million times better than you’d expected, and you would never complain about that.

_____________ @witches-unruly-heart @fandom-princess-forevermore @cycat4077 @xoxabs88xox @alwaysachorusgirl @teamsladsandgents @thatesqcrush @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @wandas-wife @katieslotherford @almatra @momlifebehard @dondivajade @misscharlielulu