SVU Fic: Tickle Me Elliot (A/E/O)
This was posted first way back in '04, adding it to ye 'olde archive.
Title: Tickle Me Elliot
Pairing: Alex/Elliot/Olivia
Rating: R for threesome sex, but nothing particularly graphic. At least I hope not.
Summary: Elliot has a dream... and a nightmare
The city was in the grips of another heat wave. The streets nothing more than concrete coals, grasping onto the ungodly temperatures and radiating them back long after the sun set. It didn’t help that the precinct’s air conditioner had screamed uncle in a fit of black smoke, a scent that hung in the air like burnt popcorn.
The squad room was empty. The majority had left hours ago. Even Captain Cragen, who practically lived in his office, had left the building for cooler climes. Still, despite the discomfort that had sent many a detective running for the nearest exit before sun down, Elliot Stabler remained. His tie tossed off hours ago, the top buttons on his shirt undone. The cotton material of his shirt and undershirt sticking wetly to his chest and back. He scribbled on another page of the never ending stack of paperwork on his desk.
His ears pricked at the sounds of sneakers squeaking loudly on the linoleum. Olivia Benson trotted into the Squad Room. She was wearing a white sports bra covered in a white t-shirt (the phrase 'I fucked the girl in Hanson' stenciled on the front). The material clung tightly around her torso. Not that he was unused to or unappreciative of Olivia's tight shirts, today's just seemed unusually tight. Black cycling shorts completed the ensemble. The top curled down lower than usual, revealing a large expanse of her glass cut stomach.
“Where’ve you been?” Elliot eyed his parter.
“Playing handball.”
“In this heat?” He gasped. “Be glad you didn’t have a stroke.”
“That’s my partner, always looking out for me.” She grinned, her eyes taking on a slightly puzzled stare. “Aren’t you hot?”
“Um, no.” Elliot muttered, returning his attentions to his paper work. Admittedly, a feat that was proving more difficult with his partner hovering near him.
“Are you sure?” Olivia fanned herself with her hand. “It’s a furnace in here.”
“Maybe you should, you know, go cool off or something.”
“Mmm,” Olivia licked her lips, “That’s not a bad idea.” She reached over the desk, grabbing Elliot’s bottle of water. Tossing the cap onto the floor, Olivia raised the bottle over her head, tilted her head back and proceeded to shower herself right in the middle of the Squad Room.
Elliot swallowed hard. He knew he should tell the brunette to stop. The little angel on his shoulder, the ten year old Elliot dressed in his Catholic school garb, practically screamed in his ear to tell Olivia to stop. But the little Elliot devil on his other shoulder, the 16 year old who secretly listened to Judas Priest and stole his Dad’s Playboy’s, fired his pitchfork and blew the little Elliot angel into mithereens. So, the two of them just sat there, eyes wide, watching the water cascade down Olivia’s torso. Water that accentuated every curve and plain. Saturated her top until it was nothing more than a sheer silhouette over her chest.
The bottle drained, Olivia tossed it to the floor. Gazed at him through the brown bangs dripping off her forehead, lips curled into a devilish grin. Suddenly, she shook her head vigorously back and forth sending a spray of water onto Elliot.
“Hey!” Elliot jumped up from his chair.
“Oh, did I get your shirt all wet?” Olivia placed a finger coyly on her lips. “Maybe you should take it off.”
Mouth suddenly dry, Elliot licked his lips self-consciously. The brunette swaggered towards him. Kept coming until their bodies were only inches apart. Olivia leaned up, purred into Elliot’s ear. “Looks like I’m not the only one who needs to cool down.”
Strong hands hooked equally strong fingers into his belt loops, jerking him towards her. Then came lips, soft and inviting pressed against his own. Elliot melted under Olivia’s touch, mouth opening to the demanding tongue. Olivia tasted good. Damn good. Too good. And like a 16 year old banging his head to Judas Priest while staring at Miss March, Elliot gave in to temptation.
“What’s going on?”
Elliot jerked away from Olivia, wiped his mouth on the back of a rolled up sleeve. He exhaled a sigh of relief, relieved it was Alex Cabot standing in the Precinct doorway and not his wife. Still, his breath hitched in his throat as he stared at the blonde standing in the doorway. She wasn’t wearing her usual power suit. She was wearing a dress, ‘that dress’. The red one he remembered from too long ago that had fueled many of his fantasies.
“Well?” Alex stared at the two of them. Her eyes stern but still unwilling to give an inch of her thoughts. Her eyes went from Elliot, to Olivia, then back to Elliot. She swaggered into the room, feet stepping silently like a hunter on the prowl, hips shaking like she owned the joint. Elliot dared a glance at his partner. For a woman who’d just been caught sucking face with her married partner, she was neither shocked nor embarrassed. If anything, she stared at Alex like Elliot wished he could.
Alex approached Olivia. Her hand shot out, grasped Olivia by the back of the head. Elliot caught the wicked smile on Alex’s face as she pulled the two together. Time seemed to stand still, well, not actually stand still as much as the world disappeared and Elliot watched the two inhale each other. Bodies writhing against each other as they kissed. Alex’s fingers, playful and demanding, raked across Olivia’s scalp. Olivia, in turn, groped the ADA like a virgin on Prom night. Eventually they parted, chests heaving, mouths
open gasping for air. Alex traced a finger across Olivia’s lips.
“Now,” Alex purred, her pale blue eyes gazing smokily at Olivia, “are you going to tell me what you two were doing?”
“I accidentally got Elliot’s shirt all wet.” Olivia licked the tip of Alex’s finger. “I was just telling him she should take it off."
Two sets of eyes, brown and blue, turned towards him and Elliot felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge. “I think that sounds like a really good idea.” Alex smiled.
“Uh, ladies.” Elliot began to back away from the two women inching their way towards him. Olivia darted behind him, blocking off any retreat. Alex encroached him from the front. Hands were suddenly at the hem of his shirt, Elliot jerked at the sudden contact.
“Oooh,” Olivia smiled. “Somebody’s ticklish.”
“C’mon,” Elliot couldn’t help but giggle at the curious fingers dancing at his sides, “The joke’s over.”
Both women glanced at each other, yelling in unison.
“TICKLE FIGHT!!”
They pounced on Elliot, pushing, pulling him to the floor. A mass of arms and legs, finding every inch of exposed skin. Elliot squirmed and wiggled. Ignored the perfectly calculated moves by both women that left him with his shirt ripped open and pants bunched around his ankles. Then, he felt lips on his skin and Olivia’s mouth was, once again, clamped onto his own. The fingers, once aggressive, now soft and caressing, and Elliot could feel his resolve crumbling with each touch. The heat came from no where and everywhere at once, washed over him in tandem with the flesh caressing his skin. He groaned, Olivia’s mouth replaced with Alex’s. Tasted the salt of her saliva, different and yet the same as Olivia’s.
**
“Can I poke him?” Alex stood over the slumbering detective asleep at his desk.
“No, you can’t poke him.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “It’s this damn heat wave, everyone’s been burning the midnight oil. Elliot was going to run out sooner or later.”
“Yeah, well, he could at least sleep in the Crib rather than the middle of the Squad Room.”
Elliot moaned, twitched slightly, followed by a soft sigh. “Mmm, Olivia, I like that.”
Alex cocked an eyebrow, head turning towards Olivia. “Is there something you ’d like to tell me?”
Elliot groaned again. “Yes Alex, I love whipped cream.”
Olivia turned to Alex, with matching cocked eyebrow. “You were saying.”
**
Elliot had no idea there were so many creative and fun things one could do with dessert toppings. He watched as Alex’s hand disappeared between the giant mound of whipped cream Olivia had sprayed all over Elliot’s crotch. Back arched as slippery fingers explored his heated flesh.
**
“Alex,” Olivia gasped as another never before heard sound escaped Elliot’s throat. “We should leave.”
“Are you kidding?” Alex pulled a chair and sat down at the desk. “My cable’s out and this is soo much better than CNN. Did you have any idea?”
“Yeah, like Elliot tells me the broadcast times to his subconscious porn fantasies. Alex,” Olivia sighed. She reached out, gripping Alex on the forearm. “We have to leave. If he catches us..”
“Alex,” Elliot mumbled. The two women froze. “Mmmm, yeah.”
“Man,” Alex sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to be in his head right about now.”
**
Whipped cream was good, but, Elliot decided, chocolate syrup was a thousand times better. He squeezed the bottle over Alex’s chest. Olivia dove onto the cocoa painted nipples. Soon, they were writhing against each other. Flesh slipping, grinding, exploring each other. And suddenly, Elliot was on his back, dessert topping’s squirted all over his chest and places definitely lower. A flash of brown and blonde descending his frame.
**
Olivia brought a hand up to her mouth. There had to be a good reason why she wasn’t leaving the Precinct this very instant, and dragging Alex with her. She wasn’t unaware of the less than professional feelings some of her co-workers had for her. But, there was a difference between knowing she was fodder for her co-workers masterbatory fantasies and seeing it.
“Don’t stop.” Elliot groaned.
Alex jerked back in her chair, a slight look of dread on her face. “Oh boy.”
“What?” It was a nightmare, Olivia decided. How else to explain her head turning on its own, knowing full well she didn’t want to see what Alex was referring to.
Elliot shifted slightly. His hand, previously playing pillow to his head, drifted off the table. Slowly, it inched lower. Just as the expressions on Olivia and Alex’s faces changed from ones of dread to horror.
“Okay, that’s it.” Olivia muttered. “Elliot.”
“Mmm, Olivia.” His hand drifted lower.
“Elliot!”
“Don’t stop.” And lower.
“DETECTIVE STABLER!!” She slapped her hands, palms down, onto the desk.
The man jerked up to a sitting position. Eyes, clouded with sleep, snapped open. The faint blush in his cheeks bloomed to several shades of red in an instant.
“Oh God.” Croaked from Elliot's throat.
“Oh God is right.” Alex smirked.
“I was just.. I was just.. finishing some paperwork.” His hands grabbed at the loose sheets of paper scattered across his desk, shoving them into a giant pile, which he then shoved under his arm.
“That’s what we gathered.” Olivia tried to dissuade her partner’s fears. Stared back, unable to avoid the apologetic half-grin on her face. “Figured, if you’re going to crash, you should probably do it upstairs.”
“Right.” Elliot stood from the table. He winced slightly at erection straining against his pants. Hoping to God they couldn’t tell, Elliot hustled towards the exit, trying valiantly not to limp.
“Hey Elliot,” Alex rose from her seat. “You forgot something.” She sauntered towards the small table covered with coffee cups. Reaching into the tiny cabinet, she pulled out a small bottle making sure to hide it behind her back before approaching the blushing Detective. Alex pulled the bottle of chocolate syrup from its hiding place, waving it in front of Elliot.
“Figured you’d wanna finish dessert before you started on your paperwork.”
In the color palette, there are 256 hues of any color. At that moment, Elliot went through 183 different shades of red. He managed a half smile before turning and fleeing the Precinct.
“Alex.” Olivia groaned, her face dropping into her palms. The man was going to be sheer Hell to work with for the next.. how ever many Hail Mary’s it would take to return Elliot’s face back to normal. Alex turned towards the woman, grinning from ear to ear.
“What? It’s not like I gave him the good stuff.” She marched towards Olivia. In one fluid motion, swooped the brunette into her arms. “I saved the whipped cream for us.”
THE END
Title: Tickle Me Elliot
Pairing: Alex/Elliot/Olivia
Rating: R for threesome sex, but nothing particularly graphic. At least I hope not.
Summary: Elliot has a dream... and a nightmare
The city was in the grips of another heat wave. The streets nothing more than concrete coals, grasping onto the ungodly temperatures and radiating them back long after the sun set. It didn’t help that the precinct’s air conditioner had screamed uncle in a fit of black smoke, a scent that hung in the air like burnt popcorn.
The squad room was empty. The majority had left hours ago. Even Captain Cragen, who practically lived in his office, had left the building for cooler climes. Still, despite the discomfort that had sent many a detective running for the nearest exit before sun down, Elliot Stabler remained. His tie tossed off hours ago, the top buttons on his shirt undone. The cotton material of his shirt and undershirt sticking wetly to his chest and back. He scribbled on another page of the never ending stack of paperwork on his desk.
His ears pricked at the sounds of sneakers squeaking loudly on the linoleum. Olivia Benson trotted into the Squad Room. She was wearing a white sports bra covered in a white t-shirt (the phrase 'I fucked the girl in Hanson' stenciled on the front). The material clung tightly around her torso. Not that he was unused to or unappreciative of Olivia's tight shirts, today's just seemed unusually tight. Black cycling shorts completed the ensemble. The top curled down lower than usual, revealing a large expanse of her glass cut stomach.
“Where’ve you been?” Elliot eyed his parter.
“Playing handball.”
“In this heat?” He gasped. “Be glad you didn’t have a stroke.”
“That’s my partner, always looking out for me.” She grinned, her eyes taking on a slightly puzzled stare. “Aren’t you hot?”
“Um, no.” Elliot muttered, returning his attentions to his paper work. Admittedly, a feat that was proving more difficult with his partner hovering near him.
“Are you sure?” Olivia fanned herself with her hand. “It’s a furnace in here.”
“Maybe you should, you know, go cool off or something.”
“Mmm,” Olivia licked her lips, “That’s not a bad idea.” She reached over the desk, grabbing Elliot’s bottle of water. Tossing the cap onto the floor, Olivia raised the bottle over her head, tilted her head back and proceeded to shower herself right in the middle of the Squad Room.
Elliot swallowed hard. He knew he should tell the brunette to stop. The little angel on his shoulder, the ten year old Elliot dressed in his Catholic school garb, practically screamed in his ear to tell Olivia to stop. But the little Elliot devil on his other shoulder, the 16 year old who secretly listened to Judas Priest and stole his Dad’s Playboy’s, fired his pitchfork and blew the little Elliot angel into mithereens. So, the two of them just sat there, eyes wide, watching the water cascade down Olivia’s torso. Water that accentuated every curve and plain. Saturated her top until it was nothing more than a sheer silhouette over her chest.
The bottle drained, Olivia tossed it to the floor. Gazed at him through the brown bangs dripping off her forehead, lips curled into a devilish grin. Suddenly, she shook her head vigorously back and forth sending a spray of water onto Elliot.
“Hey!” Elliot jumped up from his chair.
“Oh, did I get your shirt all wet?” Olivia placed a finger coyly on her lips. “Maybe you should take it off.”
Mouth suddenly dry, Elliot licked his lips self-consciously. The brunette swaggered towards him. Kept coming until their bodies were only inches apart. Olivia leaned up, purred into Elliot’s ear. “Looks like I’m not the only one who needs to cool down.”
Strong hands hooked equally strong fingers into his belt loops, jerking him towards her. Then came lips, soft and inviting pressed against his own. Elliot melted under Olivia’s touch, mouth opening to the demanding tongue. Olivia tasted good. Damn good. Too good. And like a 16 year old banging his head to Judas Priest while staring at Miss March, Elliot gave in to temptation.
“What’s going on?”
Elliot jerked away from Olivia, wiped his mouth on the back of a rolled up sleeve. He exhaled a sigh of relief, relieved it was Alex Cabot standing in the Precinct doorway and not his wife. Still, his breath hitched in his throat as he stared at the blonde standing in the doorway. She wasn’t wearing her usual power suit. She was wearing a dress, ‘that dress’. The red one he remembered from too long ago that had fueled many of his fantasies.
“Well?” Alex stared at the two of them. Her eyes stern but still unwilling to give an inch of her thoughts. Her eyes went from Elliot, to Olivia, then back to Elliot. She swaggered into the room, feet stepping silently like a hunter on the prowl, hips shaking like she owned the joint. Elliot dared a glance at his partner. For a woman who’d just been caught sucking face with her married partner, she was neither shocked nor embarrassed. If anything, she stared at Alex like Elliot wished he could.
Alex approached Olivia. Her hand shot out, grasped Olivia by the back of the head. Elliot caught the wicked smile on Alex’s face as she pulled the two together. Time seemed to stand still, well, not actually stand still as much as the world disappeared and Elliot watched the two inhale each other. Bodies writhing against each other as they kissed. Alex’s fingers, playful and demanding, raked across Olivia’s scalp. Olivia, in turn, groped the ADA like a virgin on Prom night. Eventually they parted, chests heaving, mouths
open gasping for air. Alex traced a finger across Olivia’s lips.
“Now,” Alex purred, her pale blue eyes gazing smokily at Olivia, “are you going to tell me what you two were doing?”
“I accidentally got Elliot’s shirt all wet.” Olivia licked the tip of Alex’s finger. “I was just telling him she should take it off."
Two sets of eyes, brown and blue, turned towards him and Elliot felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge. “I think that sounds like a really good idea.” Alex smiled.
“Uh, ladies.” Elliot began to back away from the two women inching their way towards him. Olivia darted behind him, blocking off any retreat. Alex encroached him from the front. Hands were suddenly at the hem of his shirt, Elliot jerked at the sudden contact.
“Oooh,” Olivia smiled. “Somebody’s ticklish.”
“C’mon,” Elliot couldn’t help but giggle at the curious fingers dancing at his sides, “The joke’s over.”
Both women glanced at each other, yelling in unison.
“TICKLE FIGHT!!”
They pounced on Elliot, pushing, pulling him to the floor. A mass of arms and legs, finding every inch of exposed skin. Elliot squirmed and wiggled. Ignored the perfectly calculated moves by both women that left him with his shirt ripped open and pants bunched around his ankles. Then, he felt lips on his skin and Olivia’s mouth was, once again, clamped onto his own. The fingers, once aggressive, now soft and caressing, and Elliot could feel his resolve crumbling with each touch. The heat came from no where and everywhere at once, washed over him in tandem with the flesh caressing his skin. He groaned, Olivia’s mouth replaced with Alex’s. Tasted the salt of her saliva, different and yet the same as Olivia’s.
**
“Can I poke him?” Alex stood over the slumbering detective asleep at his desk.
“No, you can’t poke him.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “It’s this damn heat wave, everyone’s been burning the midnight oil. Elliot was going to run out sooner or later.”
“Yeah, well, he could at least sleep in the Crib rather than the middle of the Squad Room.”
Elliot moaned, twitched slightly, followed by a soft sigh. “Mmm, Olivia, I like that.”
Alex cocked an eyebrow, head turning towards Olivia. “Is there something you ’d like to tell me?”
Elliot groaned again. “Yes Alex, I love whipped cream.”
Olivia turned to Alex, with matching cocked eyebrow. “You were saying.”
**
Elliot had no idea there were so many creative and fun things one could do with dessert toppings. He watched as Alex’s hand disappeared between the giant mound of whipped cream Olivia had sprayed all over Elliot’s crotch. Back arched as slippery fingers explored his heated flesh.
**
“Alex,” Olivia gasped as another never before heard sound escaped Elliot’s throat. “We should leave.”
“Are you kidding?” Alex pulled a chair and sat down at the desk. “My cable’s out and this is soo much better than CNN. Did you have any idea?”
“Yeah, like Elliot tells me the broadcast times to his subconscious porn fantasies. Alex,” Olivia sighed. She reached out, gripping Alex on the forearm. “We have to leave. If he catches us..”
“Alex,” Elliot mumbled. The two women froze. “Mmmm, yeah.”
“Man,” Alex sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to be in his head right about now.”
**
Whipped cream was good, but, Elliot decided, chocolate syrup was a thousand times better. He squeezed the bottle over Alex’s chest. Olivia dove onto the cocoa painted nipples. Soon, they were writhing against each other. Flesh slipping, grinding, exploring each other. And suddenly, Elliot was on his back, dessert topping’s squirted all over his chest and places definitely lower. A flash of brown and blonde descending his frame.
**
Olivia brought a hand up to her mouth. There had to be a good reason why she wasn’t leaving the Precinct this very instant, and dragging Alex with her. She wasn’t unaware of the less than professional feelings some of her co-workers had for her. But, there was a difference between knowing she was fodder for her co-workers masterbatory fantasies and seeing it.
“Don’t stop.” Elliot groaned.
Alex jerked back in her chair, a slight look of dread on her face. “Oh boy.”
“What?” It was a nightmare, Olivia decided. How else to explain her head turning on its own, knowing full well she didn’t want to see what Alex was referring to.
Elliot shifted slightly. His hand, previously playing pillow to his head, drifted off the table. Slowly, it inched lower. Just as the expressions on Olivia and Alex’s faces changed from ones of dread to horror.
“Okay, that’s it.” Olivia muttered. “Elliot.”
“Mmm, Olivia.” His hand drifted lower.
“Elliot!”
“Don’t stop.” And lower.
“DETECTIVE STABLER!!” She slapped her hands, palms down, onto the desk.
The man jerked up to a sitting position. Eyes, clouded with sleep, snapped open. The faint blush in his cheeks bloomed to several shades of red in an instant.
“Oh God.” Croaked from Elliot's throat.
“Oh God is right.” Alex smirked.
“I was just.. I was just.. finishing some paperwork.” His hands grabbed at the loose sheets of paper scattered across his desk, shoving them into a giant pile, which he then shoved under his arm.
“That’s what we gathered.” Olivia tried to dissuade her partner’s fears. Stared back, unable to avoid the apologetic half-grin on her face. “Figured, if you’re going to crash, you should probably do it upstairs.”
“Right.” Elliot stood from the table. He winced slightly at erection straining against his pants. Hoping to God they couldn’t tell, Elliot hustled towards the exit, trying valiantly not to limp.
“Hey Elliot,” Alex rose from her seat. “You forgot something.” She sauntered towards the small table covered with coffee cups. Reaching into the tiny cabinet, she pulled out a small bottle making sure to hide it behind her back before approaching the blushing Detective. Alex pulled the bottle of chocolate syrup from its hiding place, waving it in front of Elliot.
“Figured you’d wanna finish dessert before you started on your paperwork.”
In the color palette, there are 256 hues of any color. At that moment, Elliot went through 183 different shades of red. He managed a half smile before turning and fleeing the Precinct.
“Alex.” Olivia groaned, her face dropping into her palms. The man was going to be sheer Hell to work with for the next.. how ever many Hail Mary’s it would take to return Elliot’s face back to normal. Alex turned towards the woman, grinning from ear to ear.
“What? It’s not like I gave him the good stuff.” She marched towards Olivia. In one fluid motion, swooped the brunette into her arms. “I saved the whipped cream for us.”
THE END