#captain benson

One thing that had been boiling up was the tension against Liv, similar to the first day she joined SVU but also so different. She came in the first day thinking she knew it all and now came back from being suspended for three years lacking a little, Casey didn't dare to go over the limit like she used to.

Today was another day with an investigation, the detectives going around because they were missing just one more evidence to convince the jury. A tennis racket that the perp used, they didn't have DNA and that's all they need. It's all that Casey needed, to take to trial. She was pushing a little but it was necessary.

Normally by now it's rare she was part of SVU cases with now there being a primary who was Babra, but in this case she was both there as the ADA but also senior advisor.

Stopping by the precinct, Casey walked through to the bullpen. Glancing around the evidence board then around where the others were.

"Where's the tennis racket?"

Single Girl Dad John Munch

AN: Finally!!! the first chapter of single dad John Munch! I hope you enjoy:)

Warnings: Small mention of sex, swearing, emotional distress, infant neglect, parental conflict, unplanned pregnancy.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

About 4 months ago, John Munch’s life had changed for good. His girlfriend, who in all honesty he’d wanted to break up with, turned out to be pregnant. 5 months. She was barely showing, of course by the time they officially found out, got an ultrasound and all that, it was quite clear that any sort of abortion was out of the question. They had no choice but to keep the baby.

Was John against the idea of being a father? Well, as much as it scared him, it’s not something he’d run away from. His girlfriend on the other hand…was a different kind of person. Safe to say she wasn’t excited for motherhood, not really.

The woman’s name was Janis. John had met her about a year ago, in some bar. He didn’t really think about it when he got in bed with her and well, it bloomed into more. A relationship. Janis was fun at times, but could also be quite cold. Looking back at it, John can’t tell whether he really liked her or just liked that he wasn’t alone anymore. After years of heartbreak, 3 failed marriages, and long depressive nights spent alone, it didn’t really matter if the feelings weren’t serious, it worked for both of them.

To be completely honest, he didn’t have any complaints about the sex either. Neither did she. It was more of a compromise rather than a relationship, isn’t that fitting for a man like him? But good sex has consequences too, as you can see, even when you swear you’re being careful.

John tried his absolute best to get the mother of his child to feel better about this unexpected turn of events, however most of his effort went to waste. It wasn’t that she was scared, she just did not feel like being a mother, let alone not have a choice in the matter because you find out too late. A screaming, whiny, hideous, clingy, drooly, disgusting little infant? Oh please, she’d go absolutely insane. Janis didn’t want that, she didn’t want the child. Either the baby would somehow disappear or…

Janis would.

It was exactly 5 days after their beautiful baby girl, who had not yet gotten a name, had been born when John came home from work later than usual, around 9PM. He’d rushed through whatever work was left at the Baltimore Homicide Unit , eager to get home to Janis and their little girl. John hadn’t wanted to go to work so soon again and leave Janis all to herself, but crimes don’t just stop because he’s become a father, and Janis had insisted he’d go, assuring him she’d be fine.

The entire day he’d been feeling some sort of newfound feeling. Excitement, perhaps? He’d never been so eager to get home, in all honesty.

He rushed up the stairs of the flat, a grocery bag in one hand whilst fumbling with his keys with the other hand. The closer he got to the floor of their apartment in the building, he started hearing the screeching crying noises of their baby girl, great. He winced a bit at the volume of it, silently hoping the neighbors wouldn’t be annoyed.

Mrs Wilson was quick to prove him wrong as she stood next to his door with her arms crossed, “Mr Munch, that girl has been screaming for hours! That your wife has no clue how to be a mother doesn’t mean the rest of us have to suffer for it!” she said whilst shaking her head disapprovingly.

Munch huffed, “She’s not my wife, Mrs Wilson.” he was quick to correct, but it didn’t really help, just made her mutter something else not so kind. Mrs Wilson was an elderly, and quite old-fashioned woman. She’d seen the ladies John had brought home through the years and didn’t like it one bit, according to her, and probably to many others as well, he was the exact opposite of a proper gentleman, he was a mess. John waved her off, too tired to deal with her as he unlocked the door. “I promise it’ll be quiet in a bit, alright?”, he mumbled as he got inside and closed the door behind him with a sigh of exhaustion, shrugging coat off.

Once he actually glanced at his apartment, his ears already ringing from the baby’s cries, he was taken aback by the absolute mess. “Jesus Christ..what happened in here?” he called out.

Blankets, clothes, pillows, and whatever else on the floor, dishes pilled up in the sink and on the counter, some milk spilled, a bunch of dirty diapers shoved into a plastic bag, some books and papers scattered on the table, and more. “Did you two throw a houseparty, or was there a burglar?” he said sarcastically as he stepped over all the mess and walked towards the wailing infant in the crib.

“Hey there, baby,” he whispered, his voice suddenly a lot softer than usual as he carefully picked up his daughter and cradled her in his arms. “shhh, it’s alright, daddy’s home. Where’s your mama, hm?” he asked in the same soft tone as he tried to calm her down, walking around the small apartment and checking rooms in search for Janis.

But the more he checked, the more the frown on his face deepened. “Janis?” he called out. And again. And again. He looked down at the wailing baby girl in his arms, his brows still furrowed, “Where’s your mama, honey?” he repeated, this time seriously. He slowly paced towards the kitchen, picking up the milk bottle on the counter and examining it with squinted eyes. The same bottle he warmed this morning, and not a drop less. She hadn’t had anything to eat all day.

He quickly laid his daughter back down in her crib to grab some formula and make her a new bottle, trying to talk to her softly with the hope calm her down while he warmed it.

After a few minutes he took her in his arms again, gently nudging the bottle’s tip against her little lips, and as expected she latched hungrily, the wailing finally over. “That’s it, good..Daddy’s here. You must’ve been so hungry all day, I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry.” he muttered, but beneath his calm facade he was only thinking about Janis. He had no idea where she was, or why she just left their daughter unsupervised and starving. He didn’t even know how long she’d been gone, and he wanted answers.

After he’d fed his little girl he got up to grab the phone immediately, dialing Janis’s apartments number again and again. No success. And so from 10:12PM till 11:57PM he dialed every friend and friend of a friend that knows Janis. His baby girl luckily fell asleep in her crib a long time ago, all the wailing having only been because she was starving, poor girl.

Around 10 past midnight John was close to giving up, his hair is a mess, his tie loosened, his glasses sliding off his nose.

And then the phone rang. The shrilling sound filling the finally quiet apartment.

He picked up quickly, muttering, “Munch.”.

“John.”, that familiar voice forced him to pay complete attention.

“Janis, where on earth a-“

He got cut off by her cold, stoic voice in his ear. “I’m not coming back. You can’t make me.”

For once in his life John Munch was at a loss for words. But it only took him a few seconds before the questions and fury started flowing in. “Not coming back? Janis don’t be ridiculous, where the hell are you? You can’t just leave, you- you’re a mother, and a partner, you have responsibilities. God, you can’t just run-“

“I never wanted this. I didn’t want her, it wasn’t my decision. She’s her partially thanks to you, you might as well take responsibility, I did my part.” She bit back. “Either I’d leave, or I would’ve fucking murdered that kid, I’m serious.”

John felt the color drain from his face in that moment, for various reasons. He gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles turning white. She wasn’t coming back, she was blaming him, she was forcing him to do this on his own, she threatened to…

He couldn’t even think of that last part too much, anger filling his voice. “Well good, then. That means you’re not even worthy of the mother title. Don’t call back, don’t come back, don’t try to contact me or my daughter. Goodbye Janis.”

All he heard was a scoff, and then the call was over. John felt his hands tremble slightly as he put down the phone, slowly walking towards the nursery to check on his daughter. She was finally sleeping soundly, her little belly rising and falling with each small breath. As if on cue, she started making some movements and noises close to a wail again, so he reached to pick her up and cradled her carefully against his chest.

He felt like he should be crying, but he didn’t cry. He just stared at the wall while rocking her slowly and whispering in her little ear. “Just you and me then, right honey? Yeah..” He let out a soft huff. “Guess there won’t be any arguments about your name anymore then, that’s convenient.” He mumbled whilst slowly lowering her so he could look at her face while she fussed with her little fists.

“Clara,” He decided without a second thought. “Clara Gwendolyn Munch.” he said finally, his thoughts flashing to his first wife Gwen for a small moment, but within seconds all his attention was back on her. She made a small sound as if to approve.

“Yeah,” John allowed himself to crack a little smile, “you and me against the world, Clara.”

LAW & ORDER. SVU

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of rape, Hetero sex/ romance, pregnancy/infertility, SMUT

Requested by @mariskasangelss

One

I met Elliot Stabler in the spring of 1988. We had both just started the police academy, and he was cocky, but in a way that was still attractive. We flirted for a while, hung out on weekends. He took me to a few cop bars, and before I knew it, we were madly and deeply in love. 

Elliot quickly became my best friend and my biggest cheerleader. He helped me fight to be where I am today– The youngest and the first female captain of the Special Victims Unit. It also means I get to boss Elliot around all day, though he usually tells me how he feels about it later when we’re at home. 

I love coming home with him at the end of a particularly stressful day. I can just leave everything at the door and go to bed with my husband. It is the perfect balance of life and work for us. And I know Elliot loves it, too. 

After a stressful day of the chief breathing down my neck every chance he got, I am glad to be kicking off my shoes. Elliot finished his shift much earlier than me today, and the house smells divine. I groan happily, following the scent of what I’m hoping is a yummy Italian home-cooked meal, and my eyes land on him first. My gorgeous husband, brown hair dishevelled and wet from the shower, his shirt so tight I can see his back muscles from across the room, humming to the radio while he cooks. 

“Well, hello,” I say, leaning against the door frame. Elliot’s face lights up when he turns around to look at me. 

“Good evening, Captain,” he says. “Just in time. Come taste this.” 

I glide across the kitchen and into his arms, and he slides the wooden spoon into my mouth. The flavours explode on my tongue, and I moan at the hint of spice and something else. “God, El, that’s divine.” 

“I got a new cookbook,” he grins. Elliot loves cooking, and he’s so good at it. I truly have been blessed with the most amazing husband.”It’s called ‘What to cook when you’re expecting.’ I thought I’d get a head start and practice some of the meals now.” 

I feel my heart sink. Not because I don’t want to have a baby with Elliot, of course, I do, but we’ve been trying for almost a year, and every time he gets excited, my body just disappoints him again. 

“El, we talked about this,” I sigh, removing my jacket. 

“I know, baby,” he says, sliding his hands around my waist. “But most people actually get pregnant once they stop trying,” he grins. He presses a tender kiss to my cheek. “It’s going to happen soon, I just know it.” 

I smile at him, because what else do I say? It’s not going to happen if he keeps buying baby books and cooking food for expectant mothers. 

“Go sit down,” he says. “It’s almost ready.” 

You head to the fridge first and grab a bottle of Moscato. You reach for a glass and pour one for yourself. Elliot frowns, and you raise your brow. “What? If we’re not trying anymore, I can have wine again,” you say. “Want one?” 

“No,” he says. “I know we aren’t officially trying, but you should still treat your body like a temple, or any potential babies won’t want to live there.” 

“Elliot, let me have my wine.”

He holds his hands up in defence, and I strut to the table, sipping the forbidden drink. This isn’t how I expected my evening to go. I thought I’d be able to decompress at home, not end up even more stressed. Elliot plates up the pasta and pours his new sauce over it. He slides a bowl in front of me and rubs my back. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the top of my head. 

“Me too,” I tell him. All I want is to give this man his baby, but my body has other ideas. Stupid body. My mother got pregnant from being r*ped, one time. She envied me for it, and somehow I found myself envying her for it, too. For being able to get pregnant so easily, without even trying. It was unfair. Life was unfair sometimes. 

Dinner was spectacular, because of course it was. I offered to do the dishes, but Elliot wouldn’t let me. He kissed me hungrily, got me all worked up, and then told me to go and have a bath. 

So here I am now, surrounded by bubbles and candles as I lie back in our large tub. One of the first things we did when we bought our new place was have the bathroom redone, and a bigger tub installed. I love soaking with Elliot after a long day. I wish he were with me now. I sigh as I sink into the water, and when I open my eyes, there he is. I smile, he smiles back, and then he starts to remove his clothes. I slide forward so he can slip in behind me, and he does. 

He kisses the back of my neck, and I whimper, leaning back against him so my back is to his chest. “I love you,” he whispers, kissing my neck again. 

“I love you, Elliot,” I say, gasping as he reaches a hand around to cup one of my breasts. He rubs his thumb over my stiff nipple and squeezes it. I press back into him harder now, and I can feel the evidence of how turned on he’s getting just from touching a boob. He’s such a man, it makes me smile. “Elliot,” I moan, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand between my legs. He grins against my ear, and he gets harder against my back as he slides his rough hand against my pussy. 

He uses two fingers to open me up, and I moan as he thrusts them inside of me. My arm shoots up to hold his head against my neck, and I writhe as he starts to finger me slowly. “Elliot,” I moan again. His thumb ghosts over my clit, and I whine, needing more. He chuckles against my ear and begins to rub my clit in circles while he fingers me. 

“Such a needy girl,” he whispers, his voice rough and sexy. It does things to me, and I feel myself getting wetter from his words. “Fuck, sweetheart, you just gushed for me. My good girl.” 

“Ohh, El,” I moan, feeling the tightness growing in my belly. “I’m coming,” I gasp, legs closing around his hand as my orgasm hits me hard. He kisses my shoulder and helps me ride out the climax, his fingers still moving slowly inside of me. I spin around in the bath, and I straddle him reverse cowgirl. 

“Fuck me, Mr Stabler,” I beg, kissing him deeply as he lines his hard cock with my entrance. It still takes me by surprise when he enters me, even after all these years, and I moan against his mouth. 

“Christ, Liv,” he groans, thrusting into me. “So wet, you dirty girl.” 

“Yes, Daddy, only for you,” I moan. My hands find his shoulders, and I begin to rock my hips against him, chasing another high. Water sloshes around us, our moans mingle and echo around the tiled room, and we kiss like we might die if we stop. Everything else aside, we have always had an amazing sex life. It has never felt like a chore, even when we were sticking to an ovulation schedule. 

“Liv,” he moans. “I’m close, honey.” 

“Me too,” I tell him, riding him harder. I feel him sputter inside of me, shooting his load deep inside, and I come so hard I collapse against his body. 

“Mrs Stabler, you’re so fucking sexy,” he says, kissing my sweaty hair. “Let’s get washed, I’m not done with you yet.” 

“You think you can handle more?” I tease him, climbing off his body so we can get washed. 

“I can always handle more of that sweet pussy, Olivia,” he grins. 

And he’s not wrong. He helps me wash my hair, massaging my scalp so well I feel myself getting worked up again. He towel dries my body, always wanting an excuse to touch me, and then he lays me down gently on our bed. 

He hovers over me, his muscular arms holding him up as he kisses me hungrily. I have to use brute force, but I flip us over, taking Elliot by surprise. I kiss down his body, over his chest and down his abs. I breathe hot air over his cock, and it twitches. I grin, kissing the head, and he hisses excitedly. “Liv, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” I say, holding the appendage in one hand while I slide my mouth over it. Elliot groans, and I take him deep in my mouth. I bob my head up and down, pumping him with my hand at the same time. The sounds I’m making are obscene, and he reaches for my hand. 

“Enough, Liv,” he begs. “I wanna fuck you again, and if you keep doing that, I’ll come in your mouth.” 

“I wouldn’t complain,” I say as I remove him from my mouth with a pop. He grabs me by the waist, and I giggle as he flips me onto my stomach. He pushes my ass cheeks open and glides into me from behind with a hard thrust. I moan, gripping the sheets. He hits so deep from this angle, and he thrusts so hard, with such passion. Our bodies slap together, the noise louder than my moans. It is so fucking sexy. I back my hips up into him a bit more, and he hits so deep I think I might split open. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunts. “You’re so tight.” 

“Feels so good,” I moan, my orgasm hitting so suddenly it takes me by surprise. I moan into my pillow, and he smacks my ass, his breathing becoming more ragged. “Put a baby in me, Elliot,” I say, hoping he finds it sexy. And he does, he moans. God, his moans are so sexy. The sounds he is making are enough to bring me to the edge again, and my whole body shakes as we both find release together. He keeps thrusting, grunting until I’ve milked him of every drop, and then he collapses on top of me, pushing me down into the mattress. 

“I love you, Olivia,” he says, kissing my shoulder as he pulls out. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest, kissing my head. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” 

And I don’t have to be told twice. I am so deeply relaxed from the many orgasms that I feel like butter, melting into the sheets. I snuggle against Elliot, and I have the best night's sleep I have had in a long time.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/412518183-in-another-life-bensler

https://archiveofourown.org/works/86676111