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rqgnarok · 11 months

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more than just a short time — jamie whelan

fandom: law & order organized crime

wc: 2,579

warnings: SPOILERS for the season finale of law & order organized crime, canonical character death, canon mention of hospitals and violence. very self deprecating talk from a disabled character. ANGST. ANGST, ANGST, ANGST. female!reader

summary: Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose?

author’s note at the end.

Jamie doesn’t wanna see her.

She’s on her way up, Bobby tells him gently. Jamie wishes the surge of relief that courses through him wasn’t mixed up with the abhorrent need to send her away, be as rude as possible to have her leave the room before she comes to terms with what he’s become.

He doesn’t. Jamie nods at Reyes and licks his lips. He feels his eyes burn when the door opens to (Y/N) walking in, clutching the strap of her purse like it’s a lifeline, eyes wide and terrified and determined all at once. Bobby cups her elbow in silent support as he leaves the room, and Jamie swallows the mean words that try to climb up his throat at the sight of someone else doing what he can’t; comfort her, touch her, be the steadiness she needs in a moment of chaos.

Neither of them speaks as they’re left alone, a bubble of something-not-quite-peace enveloping them and making the outside world a mere blur at the other side of the doors. It’s only them and the ticking clock, the smell of alcohol and disinfectant, and the lack of color and life one expects from this specific wing at Bellevue.

They’d met in a bar around four years ago. Jamie had just made detective and some of his buddies at the four-nine were adamant about at least buying him some drinks in celebration. Just after finishing his first beer, another one had been delivered to the table, the waiter pointing to where (Y/N) was sitting at the bar, smile sheepish and face flushed at being caught.

She’d heard them celebrating and figured there was no harm in inviting the next round. Jamie leaned into her space with a charming grin and said something stupid about being harmed by meeting someone so beautiful and not asking for their name. To this day (Y/N) calls it the worst pickup line she’s ever heard, but it got him a laugh and a date that very same weekend.

It’s been good. It’s been great – the last time Jamie was so infatuated by someone he’d been thirteen and crushing after the next-door neighbor. He fell so hard for (Y/N) and simply kept falling as they moved in together before their second anniversary and started looking for rings a couple of months before he transferred to Organized Crime.

The development of their relationship has been both a whirlwind and the most obvious thing Jamie’s ever lived through. Of course he was supposed to meet her. Of course he fell in love with her from the very first night. He hasn’t been able to imagine his life without her since their first date.

Jamie doesn’t want her here. Jamie needs her by his side. These are two things that have to coexist now, his new reality far from the idea he had for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t tell her to go.

“Hi, sweetheart,” (Y/N) talks first, breaking the silence and the distance between them all at once as if snapping out of a spell. She drops her things in the chair left behind by Bobby and is by his bed in an instant, hands hovering all over him like she’s unsure of what parts of him she can touch without hurting him.

Jamie wills for his fingers to twitch, for his hand to wake the fuck up and reach for her, help her cross those last few inches she isn’t daring to do on her own.

He remains limp against the bed. (Y/N) finally touches him, her fingers against his cheek. It’s enough for Jamie to shudder with a cry, turning his head so he can soak in the touch. She’s warm and steady against his skin and Jamie mourns his situation for the hundredth time in the last hour.

“Jamie,” she says, murmured and weepy. Jamie’s eyes close in agony but it feels too much like being dead already, so he opens them again. The sight that greets him is devastating: his almost-fiánce-never-to-be-wife, asking him for something he can’t give her. The lifetime together he’s been waiting to promise in his proposal has gone up in smoke in the blink of an eye.

It was the right thing to do. Jamie knew– not even the blinding pain that shocked through his nerves had been enough of a distraction to the urgency in Stabler’s voice– that the second Kyle died, the chance to put down Shadowerk would go with him.

There really was nothing he could’ve done. The bullet had reached his spine the moment it entered his body. He was dead the second he walked into that godforsaken camp.

But (Y/N) hadn’t known that when she kissed him goodbye that morning. She’d stood on her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his neck and joined their mouths together, tasting of toothpaste and languidly using her tongue to make him late for work.

“Hi,” he says, voice dry, trying not to sound as miserable as he is and failing.

He’d already canceled a vacation on her earlier that week. A pre-honeymoon, he’d started calling it in his mind, maybe finally the right time to propose. He worries for a ridiculous moment if (Y/N)’s gonna be able to get a refund out of that, fretting terribly for what’ll happen to her after he’s gone.

He knows she can take care of herself but she’s not supposed to have to. Not while he’s alive and breathing.

Jamie’s overcome with how badly he wishes he’d called in sick. That he let (Y/N) drag him back to bed like she almost did and throw caution to the wind, burrow himself in her arms and her laugh, and leave the curtains drawn shut, embracing the safety of the darkness. He was so afraid of letting Bell and Stabler down, of having Reyes go out there without someone that cared for him watching his back, and where did that get him?

Without his body. Without a future with the love of his life.

The love of his life who can never find out what he asked of Bobby. Even if she loves him enough to do it for him– Jamie loves her too much to even ask. He won’t do that. He’s already planning on making her a widow, having her do it is just cruel. He made a promise a long time ago that he wouldn’t let the job make him someone he didn’t recognize and he’s not about to start bailing on it now.

Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose? Jamie almost suggests they get a priest in here and use Bobby as a witness, but (Y/N) deserves better than that. And she’ll find it someday, Jamie’s sure of it, with an accountant or a banker or someone with a boring job who doesn’t leave the house to get shot at and get paid too little for it.

“My day sucked,” he jokes weakly despite the inner monologue that’s rushing through his brain, trying to get her to smile and his voice cracking with emotion in the process. (Y/N) struggles with it but she manages an upward tilt of the lips, eyes wet.

His pretty girl, so fucking resilient.

“I bet,” she tells him. She doesn’t stop touching him, which Jamie appreciates as much as he does the effort at light conversation. “Office coffee was that bad, huh.”

Jamie’s laugh turns into a sob so quickly that he reasons it wasn’t really ever a laugh. His fragile good humor is gone in an instant, lip wobbling and features scrunching in agonized despair.

“I’m sorry,” he cries earnestly and without restraint for the first time since his mom died, probably. He shuts his eyes but it does nothing to stop the flow once it's started and (Y/N) can’t wipe all his tears fast enough. “We should’ve gone on vacation, I shouldn’t have gone to work at all, I’m so sorry–”

“Hey,” she cuts him off, equally as devastated. “Honey, it’s alright, it’s okay. You were doing the right thing, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

He keeps apologizing anyway, fervently. Jamie isn’t strong enough to stop when (Y/N) starts to cry, too. She just holds him as best she can while they cry together. “You don’t deserve this, you don’t need less than half a–”

“You’re alive,” (Y/N) insists fiercely through tears. Jamie doesn’t tell her how this can’t be much of a life. “You came home to me, baby. That’s all that matters to me, you understand?”

Jamie hums an affirmative and keeps crying, and (Y/N) keeps soothing her fingers over his cheeks, his mouth, his temple, his hair. Jamie’s tremendously grateful for her, even if the need to make himself small and let (Y/N) hold him will never be satisfied again.

“You’re not half of anything,” she continues to reassure him without room for discussion. “You’re my everything. My whole entire life, Jamie–”

“I kept thinking of you,” he weeps, his breaths coming fast and hurried without the usual feeling of his abdomen pulling with the force of his grief. “All the time I’m out there, all I do is think of you, and I thought this time, I– I– I–”

She says his name helplessly, pressing a fervent kiss to his temple while some of her tears fall into Jamie’s hair, her breath stuttering. (Y/N) wraps herself around him as best she can without disturbing his injuries and the machines that are keeping him alive, leaving her in a most awkward position she doesn’t complain about once. Jamie’s love for her is too strong to be contained inside his body.

“I love you,” he tells her after enough time has passed that Jamie’s almost certain he won’t break into another sob. His voice quivers but that’s about it, and he thinks he’s allowed. (Y/N)’s fingers tremble against his temple. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she answers without hesitation, her voice a little shaky, too. She scratches at his hair and Jamie’s shiver is cut down to his neck. “I love you, baby, and we’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be okay.”

“I don’t think we’ll make it to Alaska,” he tries not to scoff in disappointment because he knows (Y/N) won’t like it, and she proves him right when she purses her lips like she does when trying to convince herself not to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t be stupid,” she says, but it’s so, so soft it sounds like a term of endearment. Idiot, like honey, sweetheart, baby . “I don’t care about that. We can get shitfaced and take pictures with your thumb on the lens at home, you know.”

“Hey,” he says, trying and failing not to think about wedding rings at the bottom of champagne glasses or hidden in chocolate mousse cakes. He’s always made fun of people who think proposing with a choking hazard is a good idea but Jamie now aches for that stupidity, that normalcy that won’t ever be for him. He refuses to propose in a hospital room when he can’t even put a ring on her hand himself. “We probably won’t get a refund out of that.”

“That’s okay,” (Y/N) soothes. Nothing is, but Jamie lets her try. Maybe she’ll have better luck at pretending than he did. “I don’t mind.”

They fall into silence and he almost goes to sleep under her hands, pacified to unconsciousness half due to exhaustion and half due to her presence: the calm in the middle of the storm. Jamie isn’t mad anymore, can’t be when she’s got him wrapped around her finger.

“I love you,” he can’t tell her enough, sleepy and quiet. The rush of air she lets out is the only indication that (Y/N) heard him.

Breathing’s getting harder, already a chore, and now the thought of the device running out of batteries or accidentally disconnecting from where it's keeping him alive makes him anxious. (Y/N)’s worried, he can tell even if she almost never voices it because she refuses to make him feel guilty about doing the job he loves. Jamie wishes she’d tell him off, scream and cry at him and not bottle it all up. It’ll only be worse when he–

He says, "Want every day with you," with sharp breaths between each word because he's too exhausted to say I want to spend the rest of my life with you. There's a ring in my locker at the station that I've been waiting for the right moment to give to you. He doesn't say, every moment is right when we're together and I'm sorry I'm only realizing that when I’m unable to breathe on my own.

(Y/N) smiles, shaky and watery, and the most gorgeous sight Jamie’s seen in his life. She knows, and Jamie knows she does. The knot that had built up the whole time he'd struggled to stay awake, waiting for her in this hospital bed, loosens.

It’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna be alright, even if she’ll miss him. She’ll grieve and move on knowing, without a doubt, that Jamie loved her like he’s never loved anyone before. It’s enough for him. He can only hope it’s enough for her, too.

“Honey,” she rouses him gently from an accidental slumber hours later, the sun that gave little light to the room now gone behind the horizon, (Y/N)’s fingers still caressing his face. She looks exhausted and worried and the most beautiful Jamie’s ever seen her. Her smile is brittle and shaky. “Your dad’s here. I didn’t want to wake you up, but–”

“‘s okay,” he tells her. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

“Sure,” she says softly, hesitation clouding her features only for a second before she’s leaning in for a kiss, firm and lingering. Jamie exhales into it, something in his chest unfurling at the touch. He hadn’t realized they hadn’t kissed yet. “I’ll bring him in.”

“Wait,” he says, managing a boyish grin with lidded eyes. “Do that again.”

(Y/N)’s smile is bright, and Jamie’s glad to taste it when she goes in for another kiss on his mouth and then moves on to his cheek, his nose, his chin, his forehead. “Insatiable.”

“You love it.”

“God help me, I do,” she pats his chest carefully. “Let me go get your dad before he wonders what we’re doing in here.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, and once last time because he can’t help himself. “I love you.”

(Y/N) turns from where she already had one foot out the door, expression tender. “I love you back. See you in a minute.”

Later, after crying in the safety of his dad’s presence like a little boy and saying his goodbyes, Jamie closes his eyes as his breaths begin to recede. The shrill sound of his heart monitor, the panic that takes over the room when he stops breathing, he’s aware of none of it.

Behind his lids isn’t death, but the Northern Lights and (Y/N) underneath them, showered in colors and smiling at him like she did that first night in a bar, young and unknowing. She offers him her hand and Jamie takes it. Nothing hurts.

________

this fic snuck up on me ngl but the season finale fucking wrecked me. i’m still thinking about writing a fix it.

short (considering my standards lol) and somewhat sweet? hope you enjoyed and if u want tell me what u think!

masterlist / ao3 / buy me a coffee

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merakiaes · 1 year

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Anyone have any requests for Mike Dodds, Joe Velasco, Nick Amaro, Peter Stone? This fandom is so dead and it's making me depressy. I just wanna write something but idk what😭💔

#mike dodds x reader #joe velasco x reader #nick amaro x reader #peter stone x reader #sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #svu x reader #mike dodds #nick amaro #joe velasco #sonny carisi #carisi x reader #dominick carisi #peter stone

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squadmuse · 25 days

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Just realised that my inbox was closed… requests are now properly open! Also up for random ramblings and chats about our fave blorbos

Taking requests for: x female reader / original female character - for the following characters 🔽

REY CURTIS - MIKE LOGAN - RAFAEL BARBA - MIKE DODDS - SONNY CARISI - PETER STONE - SPENCER REID - LUKE ALVEZ - AARON HOTCHNER - JAVIER PEÑA - FOX MULDER

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plaidbooks · 6 months

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Mike Dodds HC - On Love and Sex?

No one ever made you feel as sexy and beautiful as Mike Dodds. The first time you were naked in front of him, you were embarrassed, face heating as you attempted to cover up parts you didn't like.

But he was soft with you, patient. He told you how gorgeous you were and kissed every inch of you. Slowly but surely, he helped you forget about your insecurities, and you grew confident with him.

It was more than just in the bedroom, though. Mike was all about building you up with praise and compliments. He always made sure to tell you how stunning you were every single day.

With him, you learned what being loved and cherished really meant.

#mike dodds x reader #my writing

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caracalwithchips · 1 year

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Trapped together (Part 1)

I haven’t written anything in over a year, but apparently this is the time of year I get inspired! However, one of my 2023 goals is to finally write out some of the ideas I’ve had for a while. I will continue to post very sporadically, but please let me know if you would like to be tagged when I do (I believe @plaidbooks asked to be tagged on a past post).

This fic fills the Blizzard square for StoriesofSvu’s 2022 Holiday Bingo @storiesofsvu . It’s my first 2-part fic, and I hope to have the finale uploaded in 1-2 days.

Pairing: Mike Dodds x Reader

Trigger warnings for a brief mention of serial killer in the “set-up” to the story (skip the 1st paragraph if you’d like to avoid it!)

************

It had been a busy two weeks of intense investigation by the Manhattan SVU squad on the hunt of what your team now believed to be a prolific serial killer who traced victims new to the city back to their rural hometowns to attack someone in their families. Today, you and Sergeant Dodds had needed to travel through a West Virginia mountain pass following a lead based on a victim who had run away from her small West Virginia community. Her cousin had suffered a mysterious hunting accident only 5 days after her death in the city.

However, when leaving the small county morgue, the local Sheriff informed you and Sergeant Dodds of an impending blizzard and that the mountain pass was unsafe to travel through and would only get worse throughout the night. You both tried to explain you were used to driving in New York winters, but he convinced you both that it wasn’t worth the risk. Instead, the Sheriff directed you to the only motel in a two hour radius where you and Dodds would have to wait out the storm until the roads cleared enough to return to NYC.

It was a small, desolate, dingy highway motel that looked like it usually saw its own clientele of shady individuals. The owner directed you and the Sarg to the only room left that held one queen-sized bed. Everyone who had been traveling through the area had descended upon the hotel in an effort to ride out the storm, and the owner told you both how lucky you were to arrive in time to get the last room.

You and Dodds shared a look. It was one of discomfort and hesitation. There may have also been some mortification on your part with some added on bubble-guts related to your secret penchant for reading “there was only one bed” romance books. There was no way that situation was actually happening to you in your actual real life. With Mike Dodds. The most beautiful man you had ever seen. Also the nicest.

“Are you absolutely certain there are no other rooms?” asked Dodds. The motel owner again confirmed that there was the one queen bed which we could take or leave. “What about any roll-away cots?”

The hotel owner let out the phlegmatic laugh of a 30-pack year smoker. “Where do you think you are, son? This ain’t no fancy place, which is clearer than day to anyone who ain’t blind. Ain’t you some detective? Sheriff Lonnie called ahead and near ordered me to hold the room for you two.”

You stepped in before your sergeant risked offending the only person standing between an unlucky situation and a worse situation. “Then could we at least get some extra towels and blankets, please? As many extra blankets as you have,” you asserted, with your hand on your gun hip to get the point across. You didn’t trust the ancient-looking powerlines outside to be capable of keeping even the small hotel warm and lit. The owner came back a few minutes later, shoved a stack of towels and blankets into your arms, and shut the door behind him.

You turned around and found Dodds with his hand on his head, clearly thinking hard about something. You watched him for a moment before he noticed you watching. Then, with resolution, he grabbed a blanket from the pile and grabbed a pillow off the bed and headed towards the door.

“What are you doing, Sergeant?”

“I’m going to sleep in the car tonight.”

“Are you insane?” you spluttered.

“I’ve slept in worse places than a car.”

“During an Appalachian mountain blizzard? Do you have any idea how cold it’s about to get outside? People die in these kind of conditions, Sergeant.”

“I’ll keep the engine running.”

“The gas won’t last that long and I doubt the car battery will be able to make it through the storm, either, without dying or the engine line freezing.” You knew nothing about cars, but that sounded right.

He leaned with his head against the door and mumbled something you couldn’t understand.

“Pardon?”

With a big sigh he turned around, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” This was all uncomfortable, of course you were uncomfortable. “Are you uncomfortable, Sergeant?”

He hesitated, “a little.”

“Would you be uncomfortable if it was Carisi here with you instead?”

He barked out a laugh and ran his hand through his hair. “I would be, although I’m not sure if I’d be more or less so.”

“I personally think I’d be more uncomfortable with Carisi. He strikes me as the type of sleepover guest who keeps everyone else up all night talking then drools all over your mom’s guest pillows.” You both laughed uncomfortably before you continued, “We’ve had too long of a day for worrying about making one another uncomfortable after an already long week trying to find our perp and getting an idea of the extent of how many victims he even has. I’m tired and we’re both grown. We’ve worked together long enough that we can sleep in the same room without it being weird, can’t we?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make things even more uncomfortable. I just want you to know I respect you and your comfort.” Your heart did a weird somersault before he continued, “and your role as one of my detectives.” Oh. Right. You were going to have to remind yourself to be professional. It’s not like you had the biggest crush of your life on your own Sergeant. That would be career suicide and a recipe for an embarrassing situation that you didn’t have the social grace to handle.

“Of course I know that, that would never be in question, Sir.” There. See? Super professional. Professional was your middle name. “Now, I’m going to try to shower the morgue germs off.”

You carried all of the towels into the bathroom with you. You closed the door behind you and made a face in the mirror after catching a whiff of the moldy air. This was the grossest motel you had ever been in. It had probably been built in the 60s and seemed to have the original brown and mustard carpet, curtains, bedding, possibly even the same towels. You weren’t sure if you wanted to inspect the bed to rule-out bedbugs or if you were afraid to look. It’s not like you could do anything about it.

With a sigh you started shrugging out of your suit. When you were stripped down to your undies, you made a decision. You filled the sink with soapy water and scrubbed your undergarments. Then you took the time to stand with the mini hairdryer attached to the wall to dry them off. You could put up with a lot of things, roach motel included, but you weren’t going to sleep in anything less than fresh drawers. Then you took a quick hot shower and scrubbed yourself dry with a scratchy towel before staring at yourself in the mirror and thinking about the sleeping arrangements.

You really didn’t want to sleep in your suit pants after traipsing through the rural crime scene and a morgue, but you also didn’t want to make your already uncomfortable boss more uncomfortable. You were very grateful that you threw on a t-shirt under your blouse that morning. Still, it barely reached the top of your thighs and your lacey underwear were quite visible. You left the t-shirt on, wrapped a towel around your waist for the walk to the bed, and stepped outside of the now-steamy bathroom and walked, with pretend confidence, towards the bed.

With your head held high and eyes aimed on your destination you strode further into the room…and tripped right over your sergeant who was laying on the floor. You caught yourself after falling on your knees and looked behind you with a look of exasperation.

“WHAT are you doing?” you yelled at the same time apologies were spilling out of his mouth and he was trying to help you up. At some point the towel had fallen off from around your waist so you jumped up the distance between the floor and the bed and quickly pulled the covers over you.

“I’m so sorry, I was trying to find the cleanest part of the carpet to sleep on. I assumed you would see me?”

“No I didn’t see you Sergeant, why would I expect to see you on the floor? Why are you on that disgusting floor? Do you know what kind of things get trapped in a 60 year old rundown motel carpet? Please get up!”

“I thought it would be better if I slept on the floor. I told you I’ve slept in worse places,” he smiled sheepishly and made no move to get up from the floor.

“Sergeant, am I more repugnant than that filthy floor?”

His eyes grew wide as saucers, “Y/N, no!! Of course not! How could you think that?”

“I think that because you continue to sit on the floor.”

He stood up and looked lost. “I….where am I supposed to sleep if not in the car and not on the floor?”

You stared in confusion at his confusion. “Sergeant, in the bed. Next to me. Surely that’s better than a car in a blizzard or a motel room floor?” He turned red from his neck to the tips of his ears. He seemed at a loss for words.

“If it would make you more comfortable, we can pile a bunch of these extra pillows and towels in between our sleeping bodies. You know, so that I do not mistakenly accost you in the night.”

“I never! I never thought…” he stammered.

“Of course not. I’m teasing you, mostly, but I certainly don’t expect you to sleep on the floor and considering where we are I would prefer you did not.” You piled up two extra blankets lengthwise in the middle of the bed. When he remained standing where he was, you shrugged, laid down, and turned over on your side. You really were tired and this was a mentally exhausting case. You didn’t have the energy to spend anymore time coaxing your sergeant into a somewhat comfortable sleeping arrangement nor to convince him that you could both behave like adults. You heard him shuffle into the bathroom and you heard the water start. You pulled the blankets tighter around you. The wind howled outside and despite the old heating system being turned up to its highest number, the room felt very cold. You pulled your knees up to your chest hoping to conserve heat.

You must have been close to dozing off because what felt like only a few minutes later you felt the far side of the bed dip and heard the lamp click off. The bed moved a little as Dodds tried to get comfortable. You weren’t sure if you should say goodnight or continue looking like you were asleep, so you decided to stay as you were. Part of your decision came from the fact that you were so cold, you couldn’t bare the thought of uncoiling from your fetal position. As you started feeling heavier with sleep, you wondered if you had been shivering because you felt another blanket being placed over you. A hand very lightly squeezed your shoulder as you heard a whispered “Goodnight, Detective” before falling fully into sleep.

#mike dodds #mike dodds x reader #mike dodds x you #mike dodds oneshot #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2022 #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order special victims unit fanfiction

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year

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Mike Dodds - NSFW Alphabet

Aftercare

Mike likes to stay in the moment during the aftermath of love making. You can feel his smile against your skin, his fingers threading through your hair drawing you back to his mouth. You stay locked together for the longest time, hands smoothing over each other’s sensitive skin as you share soft, lazy kisses.

Body part

Mike’s favourite body part on himself is his arms. He spends a lot of time in the boxing gym and he has the physique and the skill set to prove it. He’s proud of his accomplishments and enjoys the way it shows on his body. He loves the way you run your fingers over the tattoo on his bicep when you’re in bed together.

He adores your mouth. The way you smile, the way you bite your lower lip when your concentrating and of course, all the other naughty things you do with it. He loved seeing your lips wrapped around him, his fingers tangled in your hair as you tease him mercilessly with your tongue.

Cum

Mike loves using his mouth to make you cum. He loves licking up your cum after making you climax, he loves the noises you make as he uses his tongue on your already sensitive clit. He loves the taste of you on his lips as he grabs your ass, drawing you back to his mouth before he starts all over again.

Dirty Secret

Mike loves it when you take control. He has spent so much time being in charge and telling other people what to do, that it can be hard to strip away the shackles of responsibility. You get that and in your personal lives you help to relieve the pressure and stress with the use of things like cuffs, blindfolds and a riding crop.

Experience

Mike has been with several other woman over the course of his life, most of his most recent conquests before you had been casual. He simply didn’t want to make the time for a relationship in his life, however things changed when he met you.

Favourite Position

Mike loves the intimacy of face to face positions. His favourite is where you sit on his knees, thighs either side of his. He loves the feel of your chest against his as he looks into your eyes, the two of you rocking together.

Goofy

Mike can be goofy as hell, in fact that was one of the reasons you fell in love with him. After a few tough shifts the two of you had ended up in the same bar and the impregnatable Sergeant had finally let his walls down. It was the first time you had seen something other than the uptight persona he usually portrayed.

These days the two of you spent most of your personal time laughing.

Hair

Mike likes to keep things neat and tidy down there.

Intimacy

Mike craves intimacy. All his life he has been at the service of other people and he needs to feel that there is more for him. You ensure them that there is with every single touch you bestow upon him.

In work its nothing more than a comforting squeeze of the shoulder or a light brush of his fingertips. At home it’s so much more, you cradle his face between your hands, press your lips to the corner of his mouth, you hold onto him as if your life depends on it.

Jack Off

There are times when the two of you are apart for weeks due to shift patterns, conferences or undercover assignments. Mike loves to hear your voice on the phone. When you are able to slip away and call him, he jerks off slowly as you tell him exactly what you wish the two of you were doing.

Kink

Bondage. Mike loves being tied up and blindfolded, he loves the sensation of having his control stripped away from him piece by piece. He also likes it when you use a riding crop to touch and tease him.

Location

The shower. Mike loves caressing your entire body with his hands, he likes to tease you underneath the soapy hot water until you’re begging him to fuck you.

Motivation

When it comes to you Mike is motivated purely by his emotions. He has never felt as fiercely about someone before and everything he does is to make sure you know how much he cares.

Pegging. Mike is open to a lot of things, but pegging isn’t something that turns him on.

Oral

He loves being on his knees in front of you, fisting your panties so they’re taunt against you before his tongue lavishes your clit through the material. He gets off on you sitting on his face, grinding down onto his tongue as his firm hands hold you in place.

Pace

Mike likes to take his time with you and in turn enjoys it when you take your time with him.

Quickie

Sometimes your schedules can be hectic so snatching a quick few minutes with you will have to do. However, Mike pours as much of his heart and soul as possible into each and every one of these encounters.

Risks

Mike isn’t really a risk taker when it comes to sex. He’s willing to try new things but he’s adverse to anything that will damage your reputations if the two of you get caught such as having sex in public.

Stamina

Mike has the determination and the stamina to go on for as long as you need. Bringing you pleasure is what gets him off.

Toys

Mike is open to toys so long as you both get something out of it. He loves using a wand or a vibe on your clit, edging you until you’re desperate for him. He’s not a fan of dildos, he knows you prefer the real deal. Restraints, blindfolds and a riding crop in your hands are his toys of preference.

Unfair

Mike is all about fairness, your relationship is a complete partnership.

Volume

Mike is vocal during sex but not loud. He likes to ask what you want, to tell you what he’s planning to do to you and to tell you exactly what you’re doing to him.

Wild Card (How has he changed in bed?)

Mike has never told anyone about his more submissive tendencies, he has never trusted anyone enough to explore those desires until he met you. In the beginning he was always the more dominant one in bed, now it’s more of a partnership. You both give as much as you take.

X-Ray (What’s going on in those pants?)

Mike has girth, he’s a thicker than average and just a tiny bit smaller but trust me you love the girth.

Yearning

When you’re away from home, Mike yearns for you more than anything. He sends you filthy texts about all the things the two of you would be doing when you make it home.

Zzz

Mike doesn’t sleep well when you’re not in the bed. He tosses and turns, burying his face in your pillow. When you are in bed together, he’s the one that sleeps with his back to the door, his body curled around you, holding you close and breathing you in.

#mike dodds headcannon #mike dodds imagine #sergeant mike dodds #mike dodds #mike dodds x reader #reader x mike dodds

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

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Hey girl! Glad you have some time off!

How about Mike Dodds - "what exactly am I looking at here?"

hahahah I MEAN, i only work 2-3 days a week anyways LOL. but having particularly Saturday off is weird cause our numbers are usually higher on Sat (hence why im the second bartender in, it's more guaranteed that i'll end up working) but it's a long weekend so i guess not this week (but ive gotta manage tmr so...)

ALSO, gonna do these as like, little blurbs/sceanrios so i don't put too much effort into them and lose all the motivation to work on the ch's i'm also doin rn lol

You loved Mike with all of your heart, you had from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. Goofy grin on his cheeks, laugh barely faded from them, sparkle in his eye as he joked with a friend. Then he glanced your way, catching you watching and everything from the smile to the sparkle grew by a tenfold. You blushed, quickly glancing away before looking up again and his gaze was still on you, the smile softer, but one that you'd never forget.

It didn't take much longer after that first night for the two of you to fall in love. You spent each weekend together, exploring the city and taking full advantage of the autumn celebrations. As the weather cooled you took even more advantage of the excuse to curl up inside on the couch with a fuzzy blanket, giving Mike puppy dog eyes until he gave you all the perfect cuddles you desired. You were engaged on New Year's Eve, at an intimate yet fancy party at the Dodd's brownstone and there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

You had the perfect life together, and not long after the wedding you gained another family member when you gave birth to your first child. After your second was born, Mike started to feel a little apprehensive about continuing on his work with the NYPD. He wanted to make sure that you and the kids would always have him, that he wasn't going anywhere and he couldn't guarantee that with his career. So he put in his papers, retired from the NYPD with a full pension to be a stay at home dad and he had never been happier.

Mike was an amazing husband, and he was an even more incredible father. You weren't sure how he would handle it at first but he was an absolute rock star. You'd get the kids up in the morning together before Mike would give you a kiss and the kids would swarm you with hugs before you left for work. And each day when you got home dinner was at least started if not ready while the kids were tuckered out on the couch occupied with tv, colouring or playing quietly together. They'd tell you about how Dad took them on adventures each day, and occasionally you'd get presents from places like the zoo or aquarium, or sometimes even just a cool rock from their time at the park. Whatever adventures they went on you were never really sure, especially on the days that they didn't leave the house.

That was until you decided to call it a half day and left work early. You picked up a pizza, some soda and a case of beer for Mike on the way home. You knew you were earlier than normal so you expected a little bit of a surprise, but you certainly weren't expecting what was on the other side of the door.

The living room was both torn apart and put back together. The torn apart meant the cushions of the couch were gone, blankets strewn across the room. The put back together meaning that they were all intricately hung up around the room, stuck to the ceiling beams and extending out, pinned to the walls on either side. It appeared they'd used every blanket and towel in the house to make the ultimate blanket fort, full of every single pillow and the blow up mattresses you used for guests. The fort overtook the tv and you could hear it playing, little giggles and laughter coming from within. You placed your shopping down on the counter and the sound alerted Mike, his head popping out of the corner of the fort. He had that wicked bright smile on his face and you couldn't help but smile in return.

"What...exactly am I looking at here?" You asked, raising a brow and Mike laughed. Before he could even reply the shrieks of your children echoed through the room before they burst from the fort, racing toward you for hugs and kisses.

"Daddy helped us make the best fort!" Your daughter squealed, shrieking as you scooped her up, peppering her face with kisses.

"It's real cozy inside!" Your son explained, accepting the kiss you dropped onto the top of his head.

"I'll bet. How about you two go wash your hands and we can have dinner?" They scurried off down the hallway as Mike crawled out of the fort.

"You're home early." He greeted you with a tender kiss, "sorry. i was planning on having it all cleaned up."

"Don't worry about." You popped up on your toes to kiss him once more, "I got pizza. is it really that comfy in there?" You nodded toward the fort and he laughed, but nodded.

"Surprisingly so."

"Well, it's almost halloween, let's do some festive movies and have dinner in the fort."

There were gleeful shrieks from both kids at that, jumping up and down as they got to choose what kind of pop they wanted with their dinner. Mike wrangled things while you got changed into something cozier and the four of you made your way back into the fort. Mike tossed an arm around you as the two of you leant back into the bottom of the couch and once pizza was done you each ended up with a kid on your lap. Wiped out from their full adventure day with dad it didn't take long before both of them were asleep in your arms and you were carrying them to be tucked into bed.

"I'll clean this up." Mike murmured, kissing your cheek as he nodded toward the living room and you let out a little hum.

"Why don't we leave it for the weekend? Have a little more fun."

"Ya sure?"

"Yeah." You looped your arms around his shoulders, kissing him again, "i love you."

"i love you too."

________________ @fandom-princess-forevermore @hhroadgirl @qvid-pro-qvo @skittle479 @altsvu @lawandorderimagines @whimsicallymad @classylady1234 @averyhotchner @mysticfalls01 @plaidbooks @mrsrafaelbarba @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @rafivadafreddy @australiancarisi @wandas-wife @thestarrynightslover @lustvolle-liebe @sia2raww @cycat4077@xoxabs88xox @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @borg-queer @misscharlielulu

#mike dodds #mike dodds x reader #mike dodds fluff #law and order #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit

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agender-wolfie · 6 months

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Fem is not the default for fanfics and it’s not a woman’s only space. It’s also disrespectful not to tag your shit ☺️

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noellawrites · 11 months

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How about the yandere SVU characters you write for, the reader gets pregnant from a one night stand with them. Where they slept with the reader (pre yandere feelings) and then the reader gets pregnant. The reader finds them and asked them about what they should do. Then the yandere feelings develop.

warnings: discussions of pregnancy, abortions, adoptions and overall themes of forced pregnancy and loss of bodily autonomy

Sonny is immediately thrilled. this man was BORN to be a father. an abortion is absolutely out of the question to him (unless your life is in danger). he steps up immediately and proposes to you, asks you to move in, calls up and tells his mom and all of his sisters, never lets you out of his sight and never shuts up about it at work. he doesn't even ask you how you feel about it and he frankly doesn't care. as far as Sonny's concerned, this is a miracle sent by God himself.

Nick is pretty happy about it. he loves being a dad to Gil and Zara, so what's the harm in one more? just know he's going to rope you into mothering his other kids, too. the more he can keep an eye on you and make sure you're safe, the better. Nick's an expert of being a dad by now, and if you have any doubts about keeping the baby, he'll make false promises about how much he'll be there for you and the kids.

Mike is excited at the prospect of making his parents happy and exerting control over you and your body. finally, the Dodds family will have an heir. he is strict about your diet, makes sure you take your vitamins, forces you to exercise with him. he's basically a pain in your ass. Mike's worst nightmare is giving the baby up for adoption. a Dodds baby? in the custody of a complete stranger, being raised away from its true family? no way.

Rafael is very nervous at first. his initial concern is making sure he treats this child absolutely nothing like his father treated him while still controlling you. he can't have you running around the city, going to work or being far away from him. you're the vessel of his child, of course! you start to worry Rafael likes the baby more than you (which might be true tbh). he talks to your belly but won't talk to you if you've disobeyed him. don't worry baby, you'll be safe in daddy's arms soon.

#law and order svu x reader #law and order svu imagine #sonny carisi x reader #rafael barba x reader #nick amaro x reader #mike dodds x reader #yandere law and order svu #yandere sonny carisi #yandere rafael barba #law and order svu #dark law and order svu #dominick carisi x reader

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svucarisiaddict · 2 years

Note

Could I please request #21 "touch her and I'll kill you" with Mike Dodds please?

Prequel to THIS

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Peter asked. He wrapped you in a hug and kissed the top of your head.

You relished in Peter’s affection. The familiar scent of his cologne was comforting. “Just missed my big brother,” you said. Since moving in with Mike you didn’t get to see Peter as much as you would have liked.

“I’ve missed you too, kiddo.” Peter released you to arm's length. “I think you’ve grown.” He smirked and put a hand on top of your head.

“Shush,” you chuckled and playfully slapped his hand away. Since you could remember your stature had always been a joke in the family. You bite your bottom lip and crossed your arms over your chest.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked. His brow furrowed with worry.

“Nothings wrong. Not really. I mean…,” you sighed. “I just have some questions.”

“About what?”

“Mike,” you stated. “I never noticed before but he seems to have an anger problem.”

Peter’s jaw clenched.

“Not with me,” you reassured Peter. “If anything he’s overprotective, almost territorial,” you countered.

Peter’s face noticeably relaxed. “Are you hungry? I can make us soup,” he offered.

“I’m always hungry,” you said. You followed Peter into the kitchen. “Is it canned soup or did Marta make it?”

Peter raised one eyebrow. “Marta. I don’t do canned soup.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. Peter could be so stuck up sometimes. Where he got it was a mystery. No one else in the family acted like that. “I’ll get bowls,” you offered.

Peter took a plastic food storage container from the refrigerator and then poured the contents into a saucepan. He slowly stirred the soup. “So, you had some questions about Mike?”

Taking a deep breath you relayed your concerns. “We went to a club over the weekend with some other friends. Some random guy started dancing up on me. I pushed him away but Mike saw and…” you trailed off. The look in his eyes gave you chills. His beautiful, soulful green eyes turned vacant. It was like he wasn’t him.

Peter turned from the stove. “And?”

“It was like a switch flipped in his brain. He-he broke the guy's hand,” you answered. “No warning, nothing. Just grabbed his hand a broke it.”

Peter stared at you for a minute. “Is that it?”

You shrugged. “Yeah but I’ve never seen that side of him. It was kind of scary.”

Peter ladled the soup into the bowls on the counter. “Well, he was protecting you. That is his job,” Peter said matter of factly.

“I’m not a job. I’m his girlfriend,” you defended. “Have you seen him be that aggressive or violent?”

Mike had been a part of the security team since he left the NYPD for reasons that you were not privy to. And sure protecting you was technically part of his job but the recent incident was excessive.

Peter sighed. “There’s a reason I hired him, Y/N.” He took the stool beside you. “As long as he is good to you and keeps you safe there’s really nothing else to discuss.”

You opened your mouth to say something but you got the impression that you weren’t going to make Peter understand your concerns. Instead, you ate the soup and listened to Peter talk about a ranch in Montana he was interested in buying. Maybe you were overreacting. Mike was a good guy. He loved you and did keep you safe. Maybe it was just an isolated incident. That’s what you hoped.

When you returned home a couple of hours later you were surprised to find Mike at home. You pushed your conversation with Peter and the nightclub incident out of your head. Instead, you decided to concentrate on the good things about Mike.

“Hey, babe. I didn’t think I’d see you until late tonight,” you said.

Mike looked up and smiled from where he was sitting on the sofa reading a book. He closed the book and stood from the sofa making his way to you. “Job got canceled,” he informed you. His hands went to your hips.

“Lucky me,” you smirked. You stretched onto tippy toes to kiss him.

Mike pulled you close to his body and return your kiss. “I got something for you.”

“Oh, yeah? And what would that be?” you asked biting your bottom lip and lowering your eyes.

Mike chuckled. “That’s for later.” He gave you a wink and then went to his office. When he returned he had his hands behind his back. “Close your eyes,” he instructed.

You grinned and did as he asked.

Mike stood behind and moved your hair from your neck. “Okay, open your eyes. I was in Chelsea and walked past this little antique shop. When I looked in the window I saw this.”

“Mike,” you gasped. “It-it’s beautiful.” You fingered the delicate silver chain. There was a dark red ruby pendant with silver fringe hanging from the chain.

“I thought you’d like it,” Mike said.

You turned in his arms. “I love it. Thank you.”

Mike cupped your face and gently ran his thumb across your cheek. “Do you know how gorgeous you are? And how much I love you?”

“Not half as much as I love you,” you responded looking up at him and placed a hand on his chest.

“If only it were that easy,” your co-worker, Susan, said with a laugh as you walked to your cars.

You hefted the bag higher on your shoulder. “Yeah. No doubt,” you replied. Work had been good but you couldn’t wait to get home.

“Must be nice,” Susan said, motioning to your car. “Wish I had a boyfriend that left me flowers.”

When you looked, there was a large bunch of wildflowers on the hood of your car. Right away you knew they weren’t from Mike. The reason you knew this was that Mike was out of town until tomorrow. And it wasn’t Peter’s style. If your brother wanted to give you something he gave it to you personally. So, when you saw the flowers you knew they were from Tate, your co-worker.

You forced a smile. “Yeah.”

“Hey, have a great weekend,” Susan said.

“You too.”

Susan waved to you as she pulled away.

“Hope you like wildflowers,” a man’s voice said from behind you.

At the sound of Tate’s voice, you jumped. You turned to face him. “Tate. I can’t accept these,” you said tersely, shoving the flowers back at Tate.

It was the third time in two weeks that he had left you flowers. There were also dinner invites, bringing you coffee and pastry from your favorite shop. Not to mention the “accidental” touching, calling, texting, and emailing.

When it first started you politely declined or ignored him. He knew you had a boyfriend. Tate had even met Michael at a company outing. Recently though you had to become more aggressive but apparently he wasn’t going to give up.

Tate took several steps toward you and took the flowers from your hand. “I hear Mike is out of town,” he said. “Thought you could use some company.”

Your eyes grew wide and your chest got tight. “How-”

A sinister smile crossed his lips. “I just know things.”

Your cell rang in your purse but you couldn’t move. It stopped then rang again. With a shaking hand, you fished your phone from the bottom of your purse. “Hel-hello?” you said. “Hi, Peter. No I’m leaving work now,” you said as you unlocked your car, opened the door then got in not taking your eyes off Tate. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

You made it to Peter’s house in less than 10 minutes breaking numerous traffic laws along the way. The entrance gate felt like it took a lifetime to open. Your eyes darted around looking to make sure Tate didn’t follow you.

As the gate closed behind you felt safer. You took in a deep, cleansing breath. Fin was walking out of the house as you pulled around the large circular drive.

“Hey, kid,” Fin called out with a smile. He met you at your car.

“Hi,” you said. “Can I talk to you for a minute? I need a favor.”

“Of course. What do you need?”

“I need this to stay between us. Peter or Mike can’t know,” you requested.

Fin furrowed his brow. “Are you okay?”

“Um,” you responded in a shaky voice. “Kinda.” You went on to explain what was going on with Tate and what you had done so far to try to take care of the situation yourself.

Fin rubbed his hands together. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

A flood of relief went over you. “Thanks, Fin,” you said giving him a hug.

“No problem.”

Michael spun the keys around his finger while he waited. At first, he was upset that you went to Fin about Tate instead of him. But as he thought about it he understood why you did it. Then he watched as Tate walked from the convenience store to the car. Tate got in, closed the door, and placed his bags on the passenger seat.

“It’s too bad you didn’t heed my warning,” Mike said in a low voice from the backseat.

Tate froze. “I-I-”

Michael shoved the butt of his Glock into Tate’s side. “Shut up. You had a chance. Now, start the car and start driving,” Michael instructed. He directed Tate to an abandoned warehouse.

Tate was sniffling when the pair exited the car. “Hey, man. I promise I won’t-”

“Too late,” Michael stated simply. “What did I say?”

Tate was sobbing now and mumbling so bad that Mike couldn’t understand him. He took a breath. “If I touched her, you would kill me,” he bawled.

Mike nodded. “Yeah. You were lucky actually, the first time. Typically I don’t give any warnings,” Mike stated. “Turn around. Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head.”

“Oh, God. Please, don’t,” Tate cried out.

“I really don’t have the time for this,” Mike sighed. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger shooting Tate between the eyes.

Tate’s body hit the ground with a thud.

Mike put his gun back in the holster and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He typed a quick text out to the cleaners, then to Peter to let him know things were taken care of.

“Damn. This was my favorite shirt,” Mike said when he saw the blood splatters on his T-shirt.

Mike smiled when your number came up on the phone screen. “Hey, babe. Yeah, just finishing up something. I’ll be home in about an hour. Spaghetti sounds good. Love you more.” He ended the call and then started walking back to his car.

#mike dodds #mike dodds x reader #franchise affair #prequel #law and order: svu

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