Valentine's Day Surprise (Casey Novak X F!Reader)

Valentine's Day Surprise (Casey Novak x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Liv organises a blind date for you on Valentine's Day. Casey is less than pleased about it.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Jealousy, implied smut, hints of possessiveness, hair pulling, swearing

“Valentine’s Day is a bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

Casey glanced up, her heart thudding in her chest. You were standing to the side with Liv, your arms crossed over your chest, lips quirking up into a half smile, almost ironic as you looked at her. You’d thrown your hair up into a messy ponytail, your jeans clinging to the shape of your ass perfectly, the afternoon light softening your expression. You were a thing of beauty, one that stole her breath.

And you weren’t even looking at her.

“It’s the only night she’s free this week,” Liv said, “but if you’re not game…”

“No no, I’ll go. But just know that it’s starting out with some serious judgement,” you said.

“Well that’s an auspicious start,” she said.

You laughed, shaking your head in that way that Casey found so endearing.

“I’m just saying, if this works out, it’ll be some story to tell,” you said.

“If what works out?” Casey couldn’t help herself from asking.

Your eyes met hers and she felt her breath still in her chest. You were still smiling, lips curling up, softening as you looked at her. The half step closer you took towards her made her fingertips tingle.

“Liv has set me up on a blind date,” you said. Her heart stopped, “on Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s a bit intense for a first date, isn’t it?” she faintly heard herself ask.

“That’s what I said,” you laughed.

“If you’re so against it I can cancel on her,” Liv said.

“Oh I’ll go,” you said, turning back to her.

Casey turned away, grateful to not be under your watchful gaze anymore. Her face had frozen in the imitation of a smile, trying not to show how her blood had run cold. You laughed again and her heart squeezed painfully.

She glanced over out of the corner of her eye. You were still laughing, mostly to yourself as you moved on to the reports on your desk. Liv gave her a knowing look. She turned away, burning up from the inside out.

The trouble was, she’d been half in love with you for over a year now and hadn’t made a move. It was manageable when she only heard the disastrous results of your dates, but before, when there was still hope in you, when you were looking forward to it, when it was still possible it would go well, she felt something toxic running through her veins. She’d continually told herself it was for the best. You worked together. If you didn’t feel the same or it didn’t work out it would be intolerable.

The way she was feeling now was intolerable.

“Get me something I can use,” she said after listening to Stabler’s excuses.

You bumped your shoulder against her as she passed by you, grinning up at her. Her heart tripped over itself, your warmth blooming over her. She swept out of the precinct, doing her best not to focus on the tumult of emotions you’d awoken in her.

It ate away at her. For days she stewed over the image of you on a date with a faceless woman. The way you’d reach out to her, flirting over drinks, kissing her when you decided she was worth bringing home. The way you would look as someone else lowered themselves between your legs. The burn of not being the one you were with.

She stayed late at work that day. It wasn’t as if she was the one with a hot date on Valentine’s Day. Sinking into work should have helped her forget about whatever it was you were getting up to. It should have chased away the images of you all dressed up and glowing under the attention of another woman. She shouldn’t have dwelled on exactly what you were getting up to in the company of your date.

She slammed her file closed, not able to stop thinking about it. She was failing at ignoring you and was failing at working. All she could focus on was the way you would smile at your date as you led her into your apartment, the slow seduction of peeling off your clothes, the way you’d touch her in your bed.

Just sitting there thinking about it, she could feel her blood boiling beneath her skin.

She shoved her files into her bag, collecting up anything she thought she might need over the weekend. Slamming the door behind her, she strode down onto the darkened street, raising her hand to hail a cab. There was only one way she was going to stop the feeling in her stomach churning until she felt like she would explode.

Your door stared back at her. She’d had the entire cab ride to calm down. It hadn’t worked.

Days of stewing in the image of you with someone else, someone claiming you, you wanting someone who wasn’t her. She was done. She wanted it to be her hands on you, her lips on yours, her body in your bed.

She wanted you.

Hammering her fist against your door, she knew the likelihood of you being in was low. You could still be on your date, or at her place. But on the off chance you were in there with her, this unknown woman who had finagled a date with you on Valentine’s Day in a childish attempt to seduce you, she was going to stop it before it got too far. She wasn’t going to let anyone else have you.

She almost fell forward when you pulled the door open, not truly believing you would be inside. You laughed, catching her around your elbows to keep her upright.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” you said.

“You’re home.”

Your lips kept ticking up into a wider smile.

“And lucky I was or else you would have bashed my door down,” you said, “what’s up?”

“I…”

She’d been so fired up on the way over that to be presented with you at home was something she hadn’t expected. You weren’t even dressed up in your date clothes. Your sweats and tank top suggested being curled up on the couch with ice cream, not getting hot and heavy with some unseen woman. Without your date, there was no reason for her to be there. She wasn’t interrupting anything.

“How about we start with if you’re here for work or pleasure?” you asked when no proper answer was forthcoming.

“Aren’t you meant to be on a date right now?” she managed to ask.

“Careful, counsellor. You keep on like this and I’ll start to think you wish I hadn’t been here to meet you,” you said, “come on. No point standing in the hall.”

With the hands still holding onto her, you tugged her into your apartment. The door shutting felt like a gunshot, loud to her ears, even as your touch burned through her. It looked as if she’d been right. A tub of ice cream sat abandoned on your coffee table, your tv paused on some romcom. You didn’t bother hiding any of it, seemingly unembarrassed for how she’d found you.

“Did you even go on your date?” she asked, taking in the entire scene.

“Sure,” you replied, “but twenty minutes in we both agreed Liv was way off the money.”

“Liv?” she asked, turning to look at you. This felt more familiar. Gathering the facts to build a case was her bread and butter.

“She set up the date. Didn’t you know that? Some friend from one of the local papers. But she must have been on something when she came up with that idea because there was no chemistry and we certainly had nothing in common,” you replied.

“You weren’t attracted to her?” she asked.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. She was gorgeous. Just not my type.” You shrugged.

“Oh?” Her heart did something funny in her chest, “what is?”

“Someone smart. Someone with a strong sense of justice. Someone passionate,” you said, “someone who makes me smile.”

Her stomach swooped.

“But I doubt you came here to have a fun girly chat about my failed date,” you said.

You were still smiling at her and there was a twinkle in your eye. Her breath caught at the way you were looking at her, with such fondness. She shook her head, looking away.

“Your ice cream is melting,” she said.

You snorted. She watched you bend to snatch it up, the curve of your ass stretching the fabric of your sweats. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, having to tear her eyes away from you. No need to be caught staring.

“Case, c’mon, why are you really here?” you asked once you’d shoved the carton of ice cream back into your freezer.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pushing up your breasts. Her eyes slipped down, tongue dragging along your lower lip as she stared. What she wouldn’t do to get her mouth on those tits.

“Casey.”

Her eyes snapped back up to yours. There was no mistaking the amusement on your face, nor the way your eyes were twinkling as they looked at her. She felt the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.

“Come on. You can tell me,” you said, “I promise not to make fun of you.”

“Why would you make fun of me?” she asked.

“Dunno. But whatever you came here for it must be pretty serious if you won’t even say it out loud,” you said.

She took a deep breath, turning away from you. Sinking down onto your couch, she finally released the death grip she had on her briefcase, letting it drop to the ground. The cushions beside her dipped, your body closer than she would have liked while trying to figure out how to move past this.

She’d had a plan. She’d worked it all out in her head on the way over. She should have expected you to send it all to hell the moment you’d opened the door.

“I’m guessing you showing up at my door like this means you didn’t have your own hot date,” you said, your shoulder nudging hers.

She turned her head towards you. You were close enough that her nose brushed yours, breath ghosting over her lips. She couldn’t help her eyes dipping down to your lips. They were so pretty, just begging to be kissed. The thought of someone else claiming them that night had driven her here.

The fire of her anger might have been doused, but the fire of her desire had only flared higher.

She surged forward, lips pressing to yours.Your hands cupped her cheeks, drawing her closer. She might have been all fire, but you were soft, like the petal of a flower, kissing her thoroughly. Any control she’d had slipped away under your touch.

When you lifted yourself, depositing yourself in her lap, straddling her, all she could do was groan. Her hands found your hips, gripping tightly, chin tipped up, so close to begging for more. Your tongue tasted of sugar, strawberry ice cream lingering despite the heat between you. She moaned, clutching you tighter.

Your fingers slipped into her hair, tugging on it in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. Her fingertips dipped below the waistband of your sweats, feeling your soft skin beneath her touch. You moaned into her mouth, hips rocking forward, fingers tightening in her hair. There was something irresistible about you being a moaning mess in her lap.

“Case,” you mumbled against her mouth, “fuck, Casey.”

“Shhh, baby,” she murmured, kissing you again.

You let her, melting against her. You made such a pretty noise, a small whimper crossed with a whine. She let her hands push further into your sweats, grasping your ass over your panties, groaning when she felt the lace against her skin. Your teeth sunk into her lower lip, tugging on it before you pulled back.

Your lips were kiss swollen, eyes blown wide, chest heaving for breath. You were a picture of wanton desire, a painting that should be hung on the wall of the Louvre. Except Casey didn’t want anyone seeing you like this except her.

“Gonna tell me why you were trying to bash down my door now?” you asked.

“I think you know,” she managed to say, surprised she was still capable of forming sentences.

“I want to hear you say it,” you said, “or maybe I should stay on my side of the couch.”

You went to swing one leg off her. The grip she still had on your ass tugged you back, holding you in place, refusing to let you move. Looking down at her, your lips pulled up into a smirk. You tilted her chin up, your other hand burying itself back in her hair, right at the nape of her neck, pulling deliciously.

“Tell me,” you said, a good natured command.

“I don’t like the thought of someone else touching you like this.” She squeezed the globes of your ass.

“You were jealous,” you said.

“I was jealous,” she repeated, jaw clenching.

“And your plan when you showed up here was what exactly?” you asked.

“I was going to interrupt before she could fuck you,” she growled.

“What if we had gone back to her place?” you asked.

“I don’t know.”

You lent forward, breath ghosting over her lips, but your hold kept her from surging up to claim your lips in another bruising kiss.

“And how were you going to convince me to kick a gorgeous woman out of my bed?” you asked.

She growled again, not liking your line of questioning. She certainly didn’t like the images they left in her head.

“By offering you a replacement of higher value,” she replied.

“You have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” you chuckled.

“I don’t hear you complaining.”

Using the hands on your ass, she dragged you closer, able to feel the heat emanating from you.

“In fact, you seem pretty fucking pleased right now,” she said.

You lent forward, your nose running along her jaw. She let her head fall to the side, offering herself to you. Even as she argued, she knew you had the upper hand.

“I’m just glad you finally made a move.” Your lips brushed her skin, “took you long enough.”

“What do you mean?”

Any arguments she might have had were scattered to the wind as you kissed a long line to her ear.

“I’ve been dropping hints for months. Did you not notice?” you asked before your teeth closed over her earlobe.

“Why didn’t you make a move then?” she managed to get out despite the moan.

“And miss the chance to see you get all jealous? No chance,” you said, drawing back, “it’s very sexy.”

Your teeth sunk into your own lower lip as you gazed down at her. She could see the smile threatening to break over your face and even as your amusement was at her expense, she found you breathtaking. Her hands slipped from under your sweats, curling around your waist to hold you close.

“I wish you’d told me before,” she said, “we could have been doing this for months.”

“We’re here now,” you said, forehead falling forward against hers.

“But we could be moving to your bed,” she said.

“Oh no. It’s Valentine’s Day and you kept me waiting. You’re going to romance me before I give up the goods,” you said.

“I have to woo you?” she asked.

“You’re the one who came here all self righteous, hoping to do the whole big confession thing,” you laughed.

You clambered off her lap, despite her protests, settling beside her. Resting your head on her shoulder, you curled up against her, reaching for the remote you’d left abandoned when you’d answered the door. She sighed, curling her arm around your waist, keeping you close.

“Alright,” she said, “but just know I was prepared to leave you very satisfied tonight.”

“We have plenty of time for that,” you said.

But when your hand slipped to her inner thigh as you watched the movie, she knew you’d be giving her everything she wanted that night, and every night after.

lesson in control (alex cabot)

PAIRING: alex cabot & fem reader DESCRIPTION: alex is in complete control over your body CAUTION: no plot, just smut. overstimulation, power dynamics, edging, ice play, slapping WORD COUNT: 2.2k AUTHOR'S NOTE: i need alex to fuck me, oh & this is not proof read cause i'm lazy x

MASTERLIST

The air in Alex's bedroom is thick - humid, electric, laced with the scent of sweat and sex. The room is dimly lit, the warm glow of the city filtering in through the windows, casting long shadows across the bed where you're sprawled out, utterly exposed. Outside, Manhattan hums with distant life - cars honking, the occasional wail of a siren but inside? The only sounds that matter are the ragged staccato of your breath, the wet, obscene noises between your legs, and her voice - low, measured, commanding.

Alex remains fully clothed, poised between your trembling thighs, watching you with a sharp, predatory glint in her blue eyes. Her silk blouse remains crisp, barely wrinkled despite how long she’s been toying with you, and her fitted skirt hugs her curves as if she had no intention of ever being anything less than composed. She is the picture of control, untouched and untouched by but you? You are wrecked. Your body is fevered, your skin flushed, thighs twitching with every calculated brush of her fingertips. Every muscle in your body is coiled so tightly, burning with need, but she refuses to let you find release.

She drags a single manicured nail down the center of your stomach, feather-light, barely a touch at all, but it sends a violent shiver through you. Your back arches instinctively, your body chasing after her, desperate for more, but before you can make contact, her free hand presses down on your lower abdomen, pinning you to the bed with infuriating ease.

"Look at you," Alex muses, her voice smooth, almost amused, as she traces lazy circles just above your navel. "You're shaking. Poor thing." She clicks her tongue, shifting slightly, pressing the barest hint of her thigh against your swollen, aching clit. The friction is barely anything, just enough to tease, and yet, it sends a broken whimper tumbling past your lips. "You need me so badly, don’t you?"

The need is unbearable, insatiable. You nod frantically, your hands twitching where they’ve been fisted into the sheets for what feels like hours now, your nails biting into the fabric. "Yes," you gasp, voice wrecked, completely devoid of the dignity you might’ve had at the beginning of the night. "Please, Alex --"

The sharp, stinging slap to your clit comes without warning, sending a searing jolt through your entire body. You scream, your hips jerking violently off the bed, but she catches your movement easily, pressing you back down with unyielding strength.

"That’s not how you ask," Alex says, her voice as steady as ever, but there’s a warning edge beneath it.

Tears sting your eyes, your entire body throbbing, every nerve ending alive with overstimulation. "Alex, please," you plead, voice shaking. "Please let me cum. I can't --"

Another slap, sharper this time, lands directly against your clit, and your whole body convulses from the sudden sting of pain mixed with pleasure.

"Did I say you could cum?" Alex asks, tilting her head as she watches you, her lips curling into a smirk. She reaches up, pinching one of your nipples between her fingers, rolling it just enough to make you whimper, before giving it a cruel twist. The pain sparks something new, something dangerous, and you gasp, your hips bucking up again, but she simply tuts at you, shaking her head. "So fucking desperate," she murmurs, giving your nipple another sharp pinch before releasing it, her nails raking lightly down the slope of your breast. "You think just because you're wet and begging, I should give you what you want?"

You nod frantically, but she only chuckles, leaning in close, her breath hot against your throat. "Oh, sweetheart," she murmurs, lips barely brushing against your skin. "You don't get to decide. I do."

And then, suddenly, finally, her fingers slam into you, two at once, stretching you wide with no warning, no buildup. The sheer force of it sends a strangled moan tearing from your throat, your back arching, your legs trembling as she sets a ruthless, unrelenting pace.

"Fuck, Alex --"

"That's better," she purrs, curling her fingers just right, pressing into that spot that makes your vision whiten. "God, listen to you. Listen to how fucking wet you are."

The lewd, wet sounds of her fingers pumping into you are obscene, the slick noise mixing with your breathless gasps, your body completely helpless beneath her. Her thumb brushes over your clit, just once, just enough to send a new wave of desperation surging through you.

"Please," you gasp, your hands scrambling against the sheets, your body climbing too fast, your release teetering right there. "Please, Alex, I'm—I'm gonna—"

And just when you're at the very edge, when your body is locking up, ready to break, she pulls her fingers out completely.

You scream.

"Oh, sweetheart," Alex coos mockingly, holding up her soaked fingers, watching the way your slick glistens in the dim light. "Did you really think I'd let you cum?"

Tears spill over, frustration burning hot, but she only smirks, gripping your chin with her clean hand, tilting your face up until your eyes meet hers. "You’ll cum when I let you," she reminds you, her voice quiet, lethal. "And not a second before."

She shifts, lowering herself between your legs, her breath a ghost over your throbbing clit. "One more," she decides, lips brushing against your inner thigh, her nails digging into your hips, holding you down. "Then, maybe, if you’re good, I’ll let you cum."

And then she ruins you.

Her tongue flicks over your clit, sharp, precise, before she sucks it into her mouth, the sensation sending a violent shudder through your entire body. Her fingers plunge back inside you in an instant, curling deep, pressing hard, fucking into you with purpose. The pleasure is devastating, raw, building so fast you can’t even breathe.

"Alex—!"

"Cum," she orders, her voice absolute, demanding. "Now."

The orgasm slams into you like a tidal wave, crashing through every muscle in your body. You wail, your thighs clenching around her head as you soak her fingers, the pleasure so intense it’s almost unbearable.

But she doesn’t stop.

She works you through it, dragging every aftershock from your wrecked body, her mouth still sealed over your clit, forcing another orgasm from you before the first has even ended. You sob her name, thrashing, your body utterly spent, but she holds you down, relentless, merciless—

"One more," she purrs, her tongue flicking just right.

You barely have time to take a breath before another violent, brutal orgasm wracks through you, your vision going completely white, your body collapsing against the mattress, utterly ruined.

Alex finally pulls away, licking her lips as she watches you with amusement, completely satisfied with the mess she’s made of you. She kisses her way up your body, slow, deliberate, before pressing her lips to yours, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

Then, her fingers trace lazily down your stomach again, teasing, possessive.

"But we’re not done yet."

Your body is wrecked.

Your limbs are useless, boneless against the bed, every muscle quivering with aftershocks from the relentless pleasure Alex has wrung out of you. Your skin burns - hot, fevered, sticky with sweat, your chest rising and falling in sharp, unsteady gasps. You can feel your own wetness pooling beneath you, soaking into the sheets, a filthy testament to just how thoroughly she’s ruined you.

And yet, despite how overstimulated you are, despite the way your thighs tremble from exertion, despite the fact that you’re still struggling to catch your breath.

She’s not done with you yet.

Alex watches you with a smirk, still fully clothed, still perfectly composed, her lips slick with your arousal. Her blue eyes glint in the dim light, sharp and knowing, completely satisfied with the way you lay before her; spent, desperate, trembling, utterly at her mercy.

“You look so pretty like this,” she murmurs, trailing her fingertips along your inner thigh, dragging them through the evidence of your ruin. “So fucked-out. So pliant. But I wonder…” She tilts her head, smirking as she brings her glistening fingers up to her lips, sucking them clean with a low hum of approval. “…how much more you can take.”

Your breath stutters, your pulse pounding.

Alex reaches over to the nightstand, retrieving a crystal tumbler of whiskey she’d left untouched earlier. The glass clinks softly as she lifts it, swirling the liquid inside, but it’s not the whiskey that makes your breath hitch; it’s the single, slowly melting ice cube floating in the amber depths.

She catches your reaction immediately, her smirk widening. “Oh?” she teases, taking a slow sip of her drink, her lips wrapping around the rim of the glass, her tongue flicking out just slightly to taste the whiskey. “Does the thought of this make you nervous, sweetheart?”

You swallow thickly, your entire body too sensitive, too exposed. The heat still lingers in every inch of your skin, every nerve raw and aching from the overstimulation she’s already put you through. The idea of cold and of ice against your still-throbbing clit sends an involuntary shiver down your spine.

Alex sees it. And she relishes it.

“Oh, you are nervous.” She chuckles, setting the glass down and plucking the ice cube between her fingers. “Good.”

Your stomach tightens as she leans in, dragging the melting ice along the curve of your collarbone, leaving behind a slick, freezing trail that makes you shiver violently. Your breath catches, your oversensitive skin recoiling and craving more all at once.

“Still so warm,” she muses, her voice a low purr. “Still so flushed. I should help you cool down, shouldn’t I?”

Before you can answer, she presses the ice directly against your nipple.

You yelp, your back arching off the bed as the sudden cold burns against your already-sensitive skin. The contrast is devastating. Your body is still burning from before, still hypersensitive, and the ice is too much, a sharp, shocking sting that makes your nipple pebble instantly beneath the freezing touch.

Alex watches your reaction with dark amusement, rolling the ice in slow, lazy circles, painting your hardened peak with melting trails of cold water. “Shh,” she soothes mockingly, her free hand pressing down on your stomach to keep you still. “Be good for me, sweetheart.”

The ice trails lower, gliding across your sternum, tracing the line between your ribs, before she reaches your other breast. She hovers for a moment, letting the anticipation build, watching the way your chest heaves in uneven, desperate breaths. Then, without warning, she presses the ice to your other nipple, rubbing slow, agonizing circles over the peak.

You whimper, your entire body tightening, twisting beneath her.

“Oh, poor thing,” Alex coos, feigning sympathy. “Is it too much?” She rolls the ice between her fingers, twisting the bud until it's painfully erect, before leaning down and taking it into her mouth.

The contrast is unbearable - her warm, wet tongue circling where the ice had just been, the sharp sting of cold soothed instantly by the heat of her mouth. You sob at the sensation, your hands flying to tangle in her hair, but she grabs your wrists, pinning them down beside your head with a single sharp command:

“Don’t move.”

You go still immediately.

She rewards you with a slow, deliberate suck, her tongue flicking teasingly against your nipple before she pulls away, the ice cube still pressed between her fingers, melting faster now.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” she murmurs, kissing her way down your stomach, her breath warm, her lips soft, while the ice continues its slow, torturous path downward.

Your entire body tenses when she reaches the juncture of your thighs.

"Relax," Alex murmurs, her voice a silk-draped command. "I promise, sweetheart… this is going to feel so good."

And then, before you can protest, she presses the ice directly against your clit.

A broken, shattered moan rips from your throat as the cold sears through you, sharp and biting against your still-throbbing, oversensitive nerves. Your hips jerk violently, your body instinctively trying to escape the sensation, but Alex pins you down with firm hands on your thighs, refusing to let you move an inch.

“Oh, fuck—”

"That's right," she hums, watching your reaction with keen interest. "Feel that? How fucking alive you are right now?"

You can barely breathe.

The ice moves in slow, teasing circles, the melting water dripping down your folds, trailing over your swollen entrance, making everything slick - too much, too cold, too intense, before Alex suddenly slaps your clit, sending a new jolt of sensation through you.

You scream.

Your entire body convulses, pleasure and pain colliding in brutal, devastating waves.

"Shh," Alex soothes, though there’s nothing soothing about her tone. "Almost there."

She finally, finally drops the last sliver of ice between your legs, lets it melt against your soaked folds, while she leans down and seals her mouth over your overstimulated clit, her warm, wet tongue laving over where the ice had just been, soothing the raw nerves before sucking you deep.

Your body shatters.

The orgasm destroys you, ripping through every cell in your body, leaving you sobbing, thrashing, shaking beneath her. Your muscles seize, your legs tremble violently, and Alex doesn't let up, not even a little, her fingers pushing inside you deep, fucking you through every aftershock until you have nothing left to give.

When she finally pulls away, you're wrecked. Completely ruined.

She smirks, wiping her mouth as she watches you struggle to catch your breath.

Then, with a satisfied hum, she leans in and presses a slow, claiming kiss to your lips.

"Now we’re done."

191 notes View Post

cabotcore

3 months ago

“i’m strong” i say as i tear up watching edits to casey and alex being each other’s counterpart. two ambitious lawyers who pushed themselves too far off the edge that they (almost) lost the one thing they love doing.

Valentine's Day Surprise (Casey Novak X F!Reader)

Valentine's Day Surprise (Casey Novak x f!Reader)

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lesson in control (alex cabot)