Rivalry
Title: Rivalry
Fandom: Law and Order: SVU
Characters/Pairings: Olivia/Elliot
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Olivia's reaction to the events of the episode "Bound" isn't quite what Elliot expects.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just borrowing them 'cause I'm bored.
Notes: I don't have any idea where this came from, other than to say I watched "Bound" the other night and boom, it wrote itself.
Ready for this part of their act, Olivia stood in front of Elliot, taking the verbal assault from him like a pro. She meekly protested in all the right places, even teared up a little for good measure. To anyone who didn’t know them, it looked like she was used to this kind of treatment. He laughed dismissively at the suggestion that they were equals, called her stupid and weak and demeaned her in front of their perp. He did everything to make the unsuspecting blonde think that he was a sanctimonious, sexist bastard.
And Emma Spevak was buying what they were selling.
After Elliot stormed away from her, Olivia re-entered the room and finished the deal, securing the confession they needed in less than a few minutes.
Emma was unceremoniously hauled away and Elliot came back to the interrogation room to find his partner sitting in one of the chairs with an unreadable expression on her face.
He leaned against the doorway, concerned.
“Liv?”
She turned toward him, a small smile appearing on her lips.
“El,” she said sweetly, “get in here and close the door.”
Elliot raised an eyebrow at her. Sweet was not something that Olivia Benson did very well. As long as he’d known her, she’d been more of a spice kind of a person. Occasionally that spice tended to lean more into a cayenne pepper kind of territory, so this kind of Olivia was the last thing he expected to find just after getting a perp hang themselves. He did as he was told however, curious to see where this was going.
He approached the table she was on the other side of as she leaned over it, the open neck of her button-up top giving him the slightest view of the swell of her breasts. He swallowed hard.
“You’ve never talked to me like that before,” she informed him, as if he didn’t already know that this was the very first and hopefully last time he’d have to treat her like shit just to coax a confession out of a murderer. He already felt like enough of an asshole without her reminding him of it.
“Liv,” he said again, “I -“
She cut him off. “Do it again.”
He blinked at her, confused.
“Do what again?”
“Tell me to come”
Everything clicked. He grinned. Two could play at this game.
He walked away from the table and headed toward the opposite end of the room where he turned around, and, careful to keep his voice low so as not to attract attention, did as was requested of him.
“Olivia Benson,“ he hissed her name with a faux anger so believable that it made heat rush between her legs, “what the fuck is the matter with you, apologizing to her? Women and their goddamned weak emotional bullshit. They don’t belong in a squad room and they sure as hell don’t deserve a badge. You could have lost the whole case for us. Is that what you wanted? Is it? Come here.”
Elliot felt more than a little dirty, belittling her from across a room like this, but as he watched her eyes darken with desire, he knew that this was exactly what she had been looking to get out of him.
She watched him point at a spot in front of him, his eyes flashing. She could hardly believe this was her partner. Her career cop, gentle as a kitten, Catholic morals growing out of his ears partner.
This was hot.
She nibbled on her bottom lip, playing the part of meek, soft-willed, scared woman to a hilt. She shook her head at him and found herself positively giddy at how all of this was playing out.
“Olivia,” he demanded again, pointing at her threateningly, “you come here right now or - “
“No,” she said quietly, just to see how he would react. She was certain that he was enjoying this as much as she was, years of sexual tension between them bubbling to the surface. They’d slept together once, back when she first started and she needed comfort after a difficult case, but it was nothing like this. That had been gentle and careful and sweet. This was raw. Animal. This was both of them finally giving in.
Seemingly enraged, he charged toward her and grabbed both of her biceps, backing her into the wall, though not hard enough to cause any actual harm.
“You want it, don’t you?” he taunted her, releasing her arms and running his hands down her front, his breath hot in her ear. He slipped a hand between her legs and smiled at how aroused he could tell she was even through her pants.
He undid a few of the buttons on her shirt and cupped her breasts in his hands. “Tell me how badly you want this, Olivia.” He unclasped her bra and yanked it away, throwing it on the floor. Then his fingers found her nipples and as he rolled and teased them, Olivia threw her head back and moaned. “Right now,” he demanded, “Tell me”
Elliot snaked an arm behind her and tugged her closer. He kissed a spot right below her ear, then slowly and agonizingly made his way down the soft curve of her neck until he came across her collarbone. He remembered something she had said once about breaking it as a kid. Something about rollerskates and a game of limbo that had gotten a little too competitive. He swirled his tongue around it and sucked hard, eliciting a series of little gasps from her that sounded something like oh, oh, oh, oh.
“Olivia,” he left her name hanging in the air before taking a nipple in his mouth and teasing it until she cried out his name.
He brushed his fingers against the waistband of her pants, drawing a line in the soft hairs and watching as she bucked her hips at him, gasping “El, please.”
“Please what?” Elliot murmured, unbuckling her belt and unzipping her pants. He kissed her when she didn’t answer and pushed his fingers inside her, unsurprised to find her already slick with wetness. She spread her legs wider before he even had a chance to demand it and he curled his fingers and rubbed her clit with his thumb.
Olivia arched her back and moaned into his ear, trying desperately to keep herself quiet. He sped up the momentum and her orgasm crashed around them so powerfully that she felt lightheaded and lost the feeling in her legs, but he held her close, whispering that he’d never let her fall.
“Jesus, Elliot” she managed to exclaim, and he couldn’t help but to feel a rush of macho pride. They were in one of the interrogation rooms of all places and still mostly fully clothed, at that. At least he knew hadn’t lost his touch.
He chuckled into her ear as her body relaxed, her head resting on his shoulder and his arm still wrapped around her waist for support.
“So, since when do you like to be ordered around?”
Finally steady on her feet, she pulled away and winked at him.
“Since you started doing the ordering.”
Fandom: Law and Order: SVU
Characters/Pairings: Olivia/Elliot
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Olivia's reaction to the events of the episode "Bound" isn't quite what Elliot expects.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just borrowing them 'cause I'm bored.
Notes: I don't have any idea where this came from, other than to say I watched "Bound" the other night and boom, it wrote itself.
Ready for this part of their act, Olivia stood in front of Elliot, taking the verbal assault from him like a pro. She meekly protested in all the right places, even teared up a little for good measure. To anyone who didn’t know them, it looked like she was used to this kind of treatment. He laughed dismissively at the suggestion that they were equals, called her stupid and weak and demeaned her in front of their perp. He did everything to make the unsuspecting blonde think that he was a sanctimonious, sexist bastard.
And Emma Spevak was buying what they were selling.
After Elliot stormed away from her, Olivia re-entered the room and finished the deal, securing the confession they needed in less than a few minutes.
Emma was unceremoniously hauled away and Elliot came back to the interrogation room to find his partner sitting in one of the chairs with an unreadable expression on her face.
He leaned against the doorway, concerned.
“Liv?”
She turned toward him, a small smile appearing on her lips.
“El,” she said sweetly, “get in here and close the door.”
Elliot raised an eyebrow at her. Sweet was not something that Olivia Benson did very well. As long as he’d known her, she’d been more of a spice kind of a person. Occasionally that spice tended to lean more into a cayenne pepper kind of territory, so this kind of Olivia was the last thing he expected to find just after getting a perp hang themselves. He did as he was told however, curious to see where this was going.
He approached the table she was on the other side of as she leaned over it, the open neck of her button-up top giving him the slightest view of the swell of her breasts. He swallowed hard.
“You’ve never talked to me like that before,” she informed him, as if he didn’t already know that this was the very first and hopefully last time he’d have to treat her like shit just to coax a confession out of a murderer. He already felt like enough of an asshole without her reminding him of it.
“Liv,” he said again, “I -“
She cut him off. “Do it again.”
He blinked at her, confused.
“Do what again?”
“Tell me to come”
Everything clicked. He grinned. Two could play at this game.
He walked away from the table and headed toward the opposite end of the room where he turned around, and, careful to keep his voice low so as not to attract attention, did as was requested of him.
“Olivia Benson,“ he hissed her name with a faux anger so believable that it made heat rush between her legs, “what the fuck is the matter with you, apologizing to her? Women and their goddamned weak emotional bullshit. They don’t belong in a squad room and they sure as hell don’t deserve a badge. You could have lost the whole case for us. Is that what you wanted? Is it? Come here.”
Elliot felt more than a little dirty, belittling her from across a room like this, but as he watched her eyes darken with desire, he knew that this was exactly what she had been looking to get out of him.
She watched him point at a spot in front of him, his eyes flashing. She could hardly believe this was her partner. Her career cop, gentle as a kitten, Catholic morals growing out of his ears partner.
This was hot.
She nibbled on her bottom lip, playing the part of meek, soft-willed, scared woman to a hilt. She shook her head at him and found herself positively giddy at how all of this was playing out.
“Olivia,” he demanded again, pointing at her threateningly, “you come here right now or - “
“No,” she said quietly, just to see how he would react. She was certain that he was enjoying this as much as she was, years of sexual tension between them bubbling to the surface. They’d slept together once, back when she first started and she needed comfort after a difficult case, but it was nothing like this. That had been gentle and careful and sweet. This was raw. Animal. This was both of them finally giving in.
Seemingly enraged, he charged toward her and grabbed both of her biceps, backing her into the wall, though not hard enough to cause any actual harm.
“You want it, don’t you?” he taunted her, releasing her arms and running his hands down her front, his breath hot in her ear. He slipped a hand between her legs and smiled at how aroused he could tell she was even through her pants.
He undid a few of the buttons on her shirt and cupped her breasts in his hands. “Tell me how badly you want this, Olivia.” He unclasped her bra and yanked it away, throwing it on the floor. Then his fingers found her nipples and as he rolled and teased them, Olivia threw her head back and moaned. “Right now,” he demanded, “Tell me”
Elliot snaked an arm behind her and tugged her closer. He kissed a spot right below her ear, then slowly and agonizingly made his way down the soft curve of her neck until he came across her collarbone. He remembered something she had said once about breaking it as a kid. Something about rollerskates and a game of limbo that had gotten a little too competitive. He swirled his tongue around it and sucked hard, eliciting a series of little gasps from her that sounded something like oh, oh, oh, oh.
“Olivia,” he left her name hanging in the air before taking a nipple in his mouth and teasing it until she cried out his name.
He brushed his fingers against the waistband of her pants, drawing a line in the soft hairs and watching as she bucked her hips at him, gasping “El, please.”
“Please what?” Elliot murmured, unbuckling her belt and unzipping her pants. He kissed her when she didn’t answer and pushed his fingers inside her, unsurprised to find her already slick with wetness. She spread her legs wider before he even had a chance to demand it and he curled his fingers and rubbed her clit with his thumb.
Olivia arched her back and moaned into his ear, trying desperately to keep herself quiet. He sped up the momentum and her orgasm crashed around them so powerfully that she felt lightheaded and lost the feeling in her legs, but he held her close, whispering that he’d never let her fall.
“Jesus, Elliot” she managed to exclaim, and he couldn’t help but to feel a rush of macho pride. They were in one of the interrogation rooms of all places and still mostly fully clothed, at that. At least he knew hadn’t lost his touch.
He chuckled into her ear as her body relaxed, her head resting on his shoulder and his arm still wrapped around her waist for support.
“So, since when do you like to be ordered around?”
Finally steady on her feet, she pulled away and winked at him.
“Since you started doing the ordering.”