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rqgnarok · 1 month ago

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a house upon the hill - nolan price

love you better now (sequel, original work)- leave a light on (prequel part 1) - this work is prequel part 2 but can be read individually!

fandom: law & order, law & order special victims unit

wc: 8,838

warnings: conversations about ptsd and ptsd episodes, aftermath of a traumatic event. canon presence of injuries, blood, violence, weapons, and hospitals. female reader

summary: after being shot and waking up in the hospital, the relief of your survival is short-lived.

ao3 / masterlist / buy me a coffee!

author's note below!

The relief of your survival is short-lived.

You’re tired and in pain, the doctors slowly wear you off the meds and your answers to how are doing? gets shorter and shorter to anyone who asks. Your grip around Nolan’s hand tightens further every time someone comes and goes, and by the time you’re leaving the hospital the bags under your eyes are prominent, your cheeks sharper than they were when you first got there.

Nolan, the trooper, writes down and listens carefully to all the instructions given to him about your care. He packs your bags with all the things he brought from your appartment and the get-well-soon gifts given by family and friends. He doen’t notice you shifting restlessly as he struggles to manhandle the wheelchair, regarding it with distrust.

“Okay,” he says faux brightly, hands at his hips and looking between you and the wheelchair. “You ready to get out of here?”

Your smile is brittle as you nod. That should be Nolan’s first clue, how you don’t rise to the banter at the first chance of it. “Alright, come here. The nurse will kill me if I let you pop your stitches.”

Your jaw tightens but you go, holding onto Nolan and digging your fingers into his arms when you rise off the bed and your body feels like it’s being lit on fire. You curse under your breath and Nolan catches it, tries to meet your eye while you struggle to conceal how much you’re hurting.

“If you need a second–”

“I’m fine.”

“Honey, you can’t push yourself too hard,” he reminds you as if you don’t know. “This type of thing doesn’t heal overnight. We can take as long as you need.”

“I just want to go home,” you say, and it sounds so much like begging it makes you sick, makes you mad. “Just– can you just help me out here, please?”

“You just gotta–”

Your reply is biting. “I know, Nolan.”

The room is engulfed by silence. His hands tense where they’re holding you but to Nolan’s credit, he doesn’t let go, even if his mouth is now set in an upset, even line.Your guilt rises like waves but your annoyance drowns it out, and there’s no apology made as you finally sit in the wheelchair, exhaling in relief.

Nolan doesn’t let go until you’re settled in nicely, and even then he remains close; gripping the handles of the chair and standing behind you where you can’t see him.

You’re buried under two sweatshirts and a coat, but the lack of touch leaves you cold nevertheless.

Your almost-month long stay at the hospital has left your home rotting in neglect. Your furniture lays under a thin layer of dust and the dishes from your last dinner together are still in the dishwasher. The dirty laundry hamper is about to blow.

Nolan appears sheepish when your eyes inevitably go towards the chaos, expression unreadable. He’s got his arm around your waist and his grip is tight as you make your way through the apartment. “I was hoping for time to clean up a little before you came home, but I’ll take care of it, promise.”

“It’s fine,” you say, monotone. Nolan can’t really read into it, unsure if you mean it or not. Halfway to the bedroom, you dig your nails into his shoulder, pulling him to a stop near the couch. “This. Here. Here is fine.”

Nolan frowns disapprovingly. “You should really lay down.”

“I can lay down here,” you say, stubborn as always but through gritted teeth. “I don’t wanna go to bed, okay, just– here is fine.”

Nolan visibly disagrees but relents, his mind still stuck in the way you’d snapped at him back at the hospital. You unclench slightly when he finally stops touching you, body limp on the couch. Nolan tries not to bristle.

It’s the first of many uncomfortable, tense interactions. You can’t move around the house on your own and stiffen whenever Nolan reaches out to support you. You’re quiet and short when you’re not, trying and failing to keep everything polite.

You drive each other crazy. Nolan works from home as much as he can and you don’t work at all. No matter how much you beg Cragen to send you some files, your day remains sans responsibilities. There are only so many reruns of Seinfeld you can stand before you’re making up a psychological profile for each of the characters just for the hell of it before you realize you’re losing your damn mind.

“What happened?” he asks one afternoon when you don’t come out for dinner. You’re lying face down on the made bed, curtains drawn shut. When you don’t answer, don’t move, Nolan’s voice turns sharp, calling your name. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” you snap, muffled by the sheets. Your sigh takes over your entire body, pushing yourself up to glare at him. “Nothing. Fucking nothing. Cragen won’t let me back without a therapist’s okay, alright? But other than that, everything’s perfect.”

“Isn’t that standard procedure?” he asks, sitting on the bed with a bowl of pasta on his lap. Your frown deepens like he’s the one who’s keeping you locked inside the house against your will.

“I’m fine,” you say. “Do you know how many people I’ve seen get shot in this job? I don’t see why this is necessary.”

“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” he says, quietly.

“You know how department’s shrinks are,” he has never heard you speak about psychological aid with such hatred. “But Stabler used to get a pat on the back and he’d be back to work within the hour. Go figure.”

“And look how that worked out for him,” Nolan says, the wrong thing to add, he can tell, for how you settle back into bed and refuse to face him. He sighs and speaks to your back. “What else did the Captain say?”

“‘You want back on the field, come to my office with discharge papers from Dr. Masters office,” you parrot in a poor imitation of Captain Cragen. “Other than that, he’ll be sending some paperwork my way. As if that’s the fucking point.”

Nolan lets the silence stretch, unsure of how to follow up. He flinches when you turn to scream into the pillow, raw and frustrated. You say, venomous. “Motherfucker.”

He leaves your dinner on the bedside table and leaves without a word like a chastised child, feeling like he’s walking away from something bigger than your wirldwind temper.

—

It gets better before it gets worse. There are days in which you don’t utter a single word and walk through the apartment like you’re haunting it; from bed to the living room to the kitchen, unaware or uncaring of Nolan’s presence. Others, you’re out the door as soon as you’re physically able, disappearing for hours on end, phone off to Nolan’s alarmed dismay.

He calls Liv, Cragen, Munch, anyone who knows you and has the resources to pull a nation wide man hunt until he realizes you always come back and it’s better to welcome you than drive you away by asking questions. Those conversations usually lead to one of you sleeping on the couch and your injuries are still a little too tender for Nolan to let you pass the night on that old thing.

One night he leaves the bedroom for a glass of water and finds you standing in front of the open window in just your pajamas. The air is chilly and your skin is covered in goosebumps, but it’s the look on your face that scares Nolan the most.

“Honey,” Nolan, bleary and confused, comes up behind you. You don’t even flinch. It wakes him up quicker than anything else ever has. Saying your name urgently, he wonders, “What are you doing? It’s freezing.”

“It’s fine,” you say, detached, not even there. You blink, staring dazedly into the night. You don’t snap out of it as he leads you back into your room.

When he asks you about it the following morning you just stare at him, blank-faced, without a single memory of the event.

To no one’s surprise, Dr. Masters gently refuses to sign your discharge papers after two months of leave and therapy sessions. Cragen takes one look at you and caves, albeit hesitantly, to reinstate you to a desk job as long as you follow the mandated breaks to talk about your feelings in an office that smells too much like lavender and vanilla.

You hate it. Absolutely abhor it. Dr. Masters, just like everyone else, wants you to talk about the shooting and nothing else. It doesn’t matter that your memory betrays you, keeping the event locked away in some faraway corner of your mind. According to her, refusing to acknowledge it is refusing to heal from it.

It leaves you short-fused. Home is a few curt words of polite conversation before you begin to snap, annoyed at Nolan’s placid attitude. Even the squad begins to lose their patience, you find yourself in Cragen’s office more often than not, glowering like a kid sent to the principal.

“Talk to me,” is all he says, not we’ve already been too lenient with you or shouldn’t you be over it by now? because he genuinely cares about you, which warms and enrages you all at once.

“What,” you say, purposely dense, arms crossed defensively.

“You’re biting heads off out there like you’re a suspect for a crime,” Cragen replies, no-nonsense. “You’re not in trouble here, I just want to know what’s going on.”

“It’s not on me that no one gets shit done around here,” you lean back against the chair, tense shoulders and sweaty hands. “We wouldn’t be so slammed if you all worried about me a little less. I’m fine.”

“Right,” Cragen says, waiting you out.

“You don’t need to walk on eggshells around me,” you continue, rough. “You can’t hurt me. I’m not gonna break, Cap.”

“Everyone keeps asking what I need– I need everyone to stop looking at me like I’m dead,” you say rushedly. You’ve started now and can’t bring yourself to stop. “I breathe a little funny and they’re on me, wanting to– to make me tea and give me casseroles that won’t fit in my fridge and ask me how I’ve been sleeping, I don’t need that shit–”

Cragen hums knowingly. Then, after a silence:

“How’s Nolan?”

You huff. “Fine. Fine, he’s always fine. Always looking for something to do. He’s cooked more these past few months than in our entire marriage, you know?”

“He’s only trying to help–”

“I know,” you snap. Cragen only stares as you pull yourself together, filled with everloving patience. It’s why he called you in, not to reprimand or punish but to let you breathe without people accusing you of doing it wrong.

“I know,” you say again after several exhales, closing your eyes and tilting your head towards the ceiling, avoiding his eye. “Just because he’s trying doesn’t mean it’s working.”

“Have you thought of telling him that?”

“Sure,” you snort. “‘Hey, honey, can you not ask me how my day went? I zoned out for thirty minutes at my desk and picked at my scar until I snapped myself out of it.’”

“There’s help for that, you know,” Cragen says. “I heard they call it therapy, these days.”

“Name it, I’m on it,” you reply, smiling wryly. “Physical, for anxiety, for PTSD. I should get a goddamned discount.”

The Captain doesn’t laugh. Neither had any of your therapists, for that matter.

“I don’t want to be like this,” you continue after a moment of silence, unsure if you’re allowed, but Cragen only nods. Decades on the job have made him wise beyond his years, sometimes even to his own detriment. “You– I know what you’re all thinking–”

“I’m not sure you do.”

“–but I don’t–” your breath hitches. “If I could be over it already, I would. This isn’t any more fun for me than it is for you.”

“No one thinks badly of you for reacting to something that happened to you,” he tells you, and it’s so close to absolution you could cry right here in front of him with all your coworkers at the other side of the door. You didn’t know it was something you were seeking.

“I can see how they look at me,” you say, quiet. “I know what they want, who they want. I just can’t give it to them.”

“What do you want?” he uses your first name and it disarms something inside of you. It’s an innocent enough question, but it reaches for your lungs and squeezes mercilessly.

“I want it to stop,” the niceties, people explaining your own PTSD to you. The racing thoughts, the breathlessness, the chest pains you haven’t been able to get rid of even if the doctor says there’s nothing wrong with you anymore. Not physically.

You sigh and it comes out shaky. Your eyes burn. “I just want everything to stop.”

Two days later, you mistakenly say this to your therapist, who throws the question back to you with interest. “What do you mean by that? What needs to stop?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, infinitely more annoyed than when you’d been talking about this with Cragen. “Everything. Nothing. I don’t know.”

“Well, maybe you do know. And that’s what scares you, what has you lashing out over the simplest innocent things. Think about that.”

“Oh, so I’m supposed to do all of the work here? I thought you said this was a partnership.”

Dr. Masters sighs, keeping careful watch over her exasperation. She writes something down, tries again.

You leave the sessions sans any breakthroughs but with enough recommendations to implement at home in hopes of finding normalcy in your marriage once more.

Try doing something together, the suggestion has you shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Have a movie night or breakfast together before work, host dinners with friends. Make your home yours again, is what I mean.

You try. It’s not a relaxing endeavor. God knows your work schedules suck even now that you’re both working half time, tempers gone through the shredder more than once. Still, you mention it to Liv and she suggests a double date kind of thing, and suddenly you’ve got a full dining table while a migraine inside your temples builds and builds and builds and–

“How you holdin’ up?” Brian asks casually, cutting off your racing thoughts like a record scratching. Your hands tighten around your fork and knife as you swallow down the urge to scream that washes over you at the question.

You think about the sleepless nights and the anger that comes out of nowhere, the inexplicable lack of patience directed at Nolan despite loving him more than anything else. You wonder if Brian would understand, having been shot before. If this is a good as any place to let everything out.

The thought fades as soon as it forms.

“Working on it,” you shrug simply. “Everything hurts and therapy’s a bitch. You know what it’s like.”

Brian snorts. “Fuck yeah, I do. Last time I went down I was so restless, Liv was gonna shoot me herself.”

“Hey now,” Liv says, but she’s smiling behind her wine and has a hand on Cassidy’s knee that inches slightly higher as she teases him. “I will say, going to work sounded like a dream just to get out of the house. You’re get better, though.”

“Hey, anything for the time off, I guess,” you say faux-brightly, a cynical twist of your lips that resembles a smile. “Next time I’ll make sure they shoot me somewhere less tedious, though.”

Brian scoffs and Liv shakes her head, but no one laughs. Nolan clears his throat after an awkward pause, obviously upset. He wipes his mouth with his napkin and leaves it gently on the table as he stands, avoiding your eye. “Excuse me.”

He walks away and closes the bedroom door gently behind him, the living room falling into uneasy silence. You pipe up with dark humor, “You think I’d get more time of if I was stabbed?”

The fight after Liv and Brian leave is a massive, unavoidable bloodbath.

There’s relief in the heat of it all, in a fucked up way. All the pent up agression you’ve been harboring finally has an opponent, even if Nolan doesn’t know he’s bringing knives to a gunfight.

“I hate when you say things like that and you know it–”

“It was a joke, Nolan, for Christ's sake–”

“Well, it’s not funny. For none of us, Liv was there with you in the ambulance and I–”

“Oh, please, tell me how I ruined your life by almost dying,” you scoff, goading. “Please, honey, the floor is yours.”

“Stop,” he says, firm, but his voice wobbles, and his eyes fill up with tears. You hate the sight of him like this and you hate to be the one who causes it. Still, the part of you aching for chaos, for emotion, can’t help but to press at the bruise. “I’m not doing this, I’m not having this argument with you.”

“You don’t have any arguments with me!” you exclaim in disbelief. Nolan purses his mouth in discontent and look away. “You tell me how to feel, what to do, what this whole thing has been like but the second I try to have an actual conversation it’s like your eyes glaze over and you’re fucking gone–”

“You don’t know what it was like for me,” Nolan snaps, tear stained cheeks glittering against the warm light of the bedroom. He hasn’t stopped crying ever since you came home. You hear him sometimes when he locks himself in his office or in the bathroom in the middle of the night. “Getting Liv’s call, the hospital, watching you like that–”

“This didn’t happen to you, Nolan!” you scream. The world has taken a sharper edge after the shooting, and all you can do is attack it likewise. “I laid in my own blood hoping someone would notice I was gone. I wasted away in the hospital for weeks, I am living a life where not a damn thing is right!”

“I’m drowning here,” your voice breaks, losing all its volume and vehemence. “And all everyone keeps telling me is how they feel about it, how I’m supposed to be getting better. I’m not. I’m not, Nolan. For the love of God, can we make this about me for half a second?”

“You,” Nolan begins, but it gets caught up in his throat, dissolves into nothing before you can hear what it is. Nolan shakes his head, adamant. “I’m not doing this.” He gathers his things all while you desperately call his name. The door closing behind him echoes through the apartment not unlike a gunshot in your ear.

That same week, Nolan goes to therapy.

He doesn’t tell you about it, just like he hasn’t told you about the past couple of months worth of sessions. He doesn’t tell anyone, actually. It starts when a victim’s husband loses it mid trial and lounges at her killer right in front of God, the judge and a panicking Nolan. He’s sure he conceals his feelings well, yet his boss takes one look at him and stops by his office at the end of the day.

“Someone recommended him to me,” he says while Nolan traces the dark blue letters of the contact card he just handed him. “I haven’t been to him in years, but he’s good. If you don’t think he can help you then I’m sure he’ll find you someone who can.”

“I–” Nolan begins and leaves it at that. It’s such a quietly kind thing to do for him that it renders him speechless.

“It can’t be easy,” he continues when Nolan doesn’t, endlessly patient, oddly personal. “What she went through, what you’re going through. I’m sure you’re both doing the best you can, but if you ever feel like you need more, well. It’s good to have options available.”

Everything that’s been offered the last few months; the casseroles and the rides to work, home, the hospital, a shoulder to cry on– it’s all been about you, for you. Nolan appreciates it but there’s something conditional about the whole thing, like he’s not worthy of help unless it’s somehow related to his wife.

He loves you. By God, he loves you with everything there’s in him to the point of ruin, but this– this is for him. His boss is offering him a lifeguard he so desperately needs, and it has both everything and nothing to do with you. He gets to be selfish about this one thing, and the thrill of it drowns out the guilt he feels about leaving you in the dark.

“Thanks,” he says, choked. Nolan clears his throat, hoping it comes out with at least some of the gratitude he’s feeling. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”

The older man smiles, already at the door and saying his goodbyes. “See you tomorrow, Nolan.”

So Nolan goes to therapy. His first time on Dr. Rhymes’ couch he begins to weep before he can introduce himself. When he resurfaces from his grief, the man is offering him a box of tissues without a hint of judgement in his gaze.

He gets now why you come back frustrated more times than not after a session. It’s like pulling teeth, no matter how badly he knows he needs it. But it helps more than he hoped it would and the nightmares about your death slowly lose some of its gore. His once rusted instincts coming back to its brilliance in court after a week’s worth of full night’s rest.

He gets better. Starts to, anyways, but not you. In your dreams, you still bleed and bleed and bleed.

No one comes to get you. Liv misses the alleyway and chases after the perp, Nolan doesn’t call to wonder when you’re coming home, your gut pulsates with pain until there’s nothing but numbness, nothing but darkness, nothing left of you.

You wake up and don't know where you are. Your flail is purely instinctive, and despite the sharp pain that pulls at your chest you do so again, eyesight blurry, panic rising sharp and quick. Your entire body’s on fire but it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter because you don’t know where you are and the perp is getting away, and Liv is still blocks away and, and, and, and–

Bleeding. You’re bleeding, bleeding out and your radio’s too far away and you can see the perp running but can’t hear his steps, there’s only your heartbeat echoing in your ears and the wet taste of death in your mouth as the world fades to black around you–

Sometimes you wake up from nightmares so quietly that Nolan doesn’t notice. Your eyes are closed and then they’re not and that’s all the movement your body can produce even if your heart is hammering against your ribcage. Other nights– nights like this one– you’re drenched in sweat and sprinting to the bathroom before your stomach returns the dinner you ate mere hours ago.

You hear Nolan fussing in the bedroom and picture him as clear as day in your mind; hair rumpled from sleep and eyes bleary, creased pajamas and worry lines on his features like he was supposed to grow into them. And he’s looking for you. Always, always looking for you.

You hate doing this to him but you hate having to go through it alone more. When you feel a cool, protective hand soothe up and down your back where your shirt sticks to your skin, you sob through your gags.

Nolan only says let it out, honey, I’ve got you, just let it go in different variations until the panic subsides. You focus on the timber of his voice, the roughness of sleep coating his vowels and the tilt of his consonants.

The bathroom tile is rough against your knees and your mouth tastes like acid, arms shaking with the effort of keeping you upright against the toilet seat. When you’re done, you fall back to the floor and Nolan is there next to you, ready to catch you.

He cradles you almost like one would a baby and you nestle against his chest, exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” you croak against his heartbeat. Nolan’s hand finds the sweaty nape of your neck and massages the tension out of it, hairs sticking to his fingers.

His soothing reply is automatic but no less honest. “It’s alright. It’s just a dream.”

“Not for this,” you correct, panting against his cotton grey shirt and reaching to hold it in a tight, shaky fist. “I mean– yes, for this, but for before. Everything. In the hospital and for fighting, for not… For everything. I’m sorry I’m like this.”

“Don’t be,” he defends, awfully vehement for a man who’s been awake for less than 10 minutes and is sitting on his bathroom floor at 4 in the morning. It’s the most emotion he’s shown since your last fight and you could weep with the relief it brings you. “Never be. You’re in pain. I’m allowed to want to help you when you’re in pain.”

“I’m tired of being in pain.”

Nolan’s chest shudders and you unclench your fist to lay your palm against it, the beat of his heart fluttering despite his calm demeanor. He shifts his hand to brush his thumb against your cheek, calming. “I know, honey. I know.”

He doesn’t say it’s okay or it’ll get better because as much as you know Nolan hopes so, it’s not the kind of thing he can promise. You wouldn’t want him to.

The sun rises through the horizon. Nolan holds you, holds you, and holds you.

“It’s stupid,” you say against your hands, hours later in your emergency session with Dr. Masters, wet and high-pitched. “It’s so fucking stupid.”

You don't elaborate. She gently goads. “What is?”

“It’s so simple,” your voice drips with disbelief, muscles coiled tight. “It’s so– it was one bullet. One second, and I’m– I can’t let it go. Why can’t I let it go?”

No answer, but you don’t need it. You’re already on a roll. “I’m okay. I’m alright, I recovered. I have my job and my husband and my life back then why am I like this? Why–”

Your voice breaks, a sign of weakness you’re done trying to hide. “Do I not want it? To get better, do I not want it enough? What am I doing wrong?”

“You have to understand, this isn’t something you did,” she sighs, leaving her notebook and pen to lean in closer. “Are you listening to me? This is something that happened to you, not because of you. Healing isn’t linear, isn’t that what you always say to the victims you encounter at work–”

You sniff, sharply wiping at your nose. “Yes, but–”

“But it’s different,” she finishes for you, leaning back against her seat. “Why? Because it’s you? Because you know better since you’re a cop? Because you’re not allowed any moment of weakness in the face of adversity?”

You’re rendered quiet, almost but not quite pouting after being called out so thoroughly. Masters continues. “You keep punishing yourself for reacting to trauma in an unpredictable way. Even that in itself is predictable. There’s no rulebook for this.”

“I know,” you say like you’ve done so many times since this whole thing started, but this is different. It’s not angry or sarcastic. It feels like a tipping point.

“This happened to you. You didn’t chose it,” your therapist says. Then, carefully, like she too is aware you’re on the cusp of something that you might be, finally, ready to hear. “But what you do with it– that is up to you.”

“You got handed this ugly, terrible thing,” she continues. “It’s yours now. And you can let it take over your life or you can take it in your hands and mold it into something you can live with.”

“That’s awful,” you say; tired, honest, terrified. Why should it be up to you? Why is it your job to fix what someone else broke? Master smiles.

“It is. It’s all work,” you say. “At least at first. And then, piece by piece, you make a life with the fragments from before. You get new ones. It’s not gonna be the same, but it’ll be yours. But work. It’s the only way out.”

It’s all work.

The session hollows you from the inside out and the day at the office is a blur. You get home much, much later, weary and exhausted. The sun is already deep behind the horizon and your head is filled with statistics and suspect heights, ethnicities, possible sightings…

Your eyes hurt and Nolan is already in bed, bent over his book with his glasses perched low on his nose. A lifetime ago he would’ve joked they made him look old, and you would kiss him senseless until they went askew and tell him he looked distinguished. It’s such an old, nice memory, both distant and right there for the taking. You get a little breathless just thinking about it.

He looks up to greet you when he hears you come in, tired but genuine. You think mold it into something you can live with and make a decision.

“Hey,” he welcomes you. “How was work?”

“I…” whatever your apprehension is, you visibly shake it off before focusing on Nolan with a sense of determination he hasn’t seen from you in a very, very long time. “I would like you to come with me. To therapy.”

“You… would?” he hates that he sounds so surprised. He places his book on the bedside table, taking his glasses off.

You look as uncomfortable as he feels, but aren’t backing down. You lessen the chasm between you, sitting on your side of the bed and laying your palm flat on the sheets. Realization hits Nolan like a slap to the face.

Here you are, the strange shape that is his wife after hell and back, reaching.

“I think… there are so many things I want to tell you,” you continue slowly, the way you do when you’ve rehearsed before speaking in court as a witness, presenting the case. “that I don’t know how. And so many things you have to say that I haven’t… wanted to hear.”

“But I’m ready,” you nod, grave. “To put in the work. Or– I want to be. And I’d– I’d like you to be with me, when I am.”

“We can go to Dr. Masters or– or I’m sure there’s some names she can draw up. Couples therapy,” you rush to say when Nolan doesn’t answer, desperate for his support. “Or– I mean, maybe you wouldn’t be comfortable with that, but I was really hoping we could–”

“Okay,” it comes out quiet. His nod, though, is resolute. “Yeah.”

You blink, a little startled and hesitatingly hopeful. “You– Yeah?”

“Yes. Okay. Yes, of course.”

“Okay,” you say, relieved, as if he’d ever say no to you. You laugh a little, deflating, running a hand through your hair. “Jesus, okay. Okay.”

A beat, two. Then you say, fragile as a baby bird, breaking the silence. “I’ve been so unfair to you.”

That finally gets him moving. He says your name, devastated. He opens up his arms, surer than he’s been in months. “Come here.”

You sigh out heavily, shakily. Standing, you move to his side of the bed and fall into his arms, work clothes and all.

“We’re alright,” he says, fingers threading into your hair. “I love you. I’m coming with you. We’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize anyways, crying into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, too,” his voice breaks and his arms tighten. There’s a kiss pressed to your hair that only makes you cry harder. “I’m so sorry, honey, for so many things. But we’re gonna be okay.”

It’s all, all work.

…Mostly.

“The files are on my desk,” Nick nods dutifully as you rattle off instructions, making sure your hair isn’t messed up by your coat. “Fin knows my notes backwards and forwards, if he tries to convince you he doesn’t it’s because he’s lazy, and I already let Cap know–”

Nick laughs, saying your last name knowingly. “It’s okay. Everything’s set, there’s nothing you’ve forgotten. Go have fun for once, will you?”

“Yeah, let us live vicariously through you,” Rollins pipes up as she passes by, an overflowing evidence box in her arms. “I’d kill for a hot date with a hotter lawyer right now.”

“You’d bite his head off before the appetizers came in,” Amaro smirks at her cockily, and you roll your eyes when Rollins predictably rises to the challenge. Behind them, Fin stares at them like he’s regretting all the life choices that led him to work with these people.

“You know what, Bernardo–” Rollins begins.

“Speaking of the devil,” Much pipes up loudly before Rollins starts humming the notes to the West Side Story score at Nick. You shoot him a grateful look but your attention is soon refocused on Nolan, who looks tall and sharp as he enters the precinct. “Good to see you, kiddo.”

“You too, old man. Hey, everyone,” Nolan smiles as he greets everyone else, though it turns shy when he acknowledges you, suddenly unaware of the rest of the room. “Hi, honey.”

“Hey, handsome,” you can’t help yourself, feeling young and foolish. “You look good.”

“Had to match you, didn’t I?” he gives you a once over, long and interested, and you’re so into it you can’t even hear your coworkers making fun of you. “You ready to go?”

“Born ready,” you wave everyone goodbye and then, as soon as you’re out of ear shot, you admit sheepishly, “I’m actually a little nervous. Is that weird?”

Nolan’s laugh is tender, relieved. “No,” he says, looking more relaxed by the admission with his arm poised while you loop your own around it, keeping him close. “I am, too. I haven’t felt like this since you kissed me for the first time.”

“I’m sorry, I kissed you?” you reply. “I very vividly remember being cut off mid sentence about serious crimes punishable by law because someone couldn’t help himself.”

“Our study sessions always were interesting,” Nolan agrees, grin boyish. “Ivery vividly don’t remember hearing you complain about it.”

“Only that it took you so long to do it,” you quip.

“Well,” he tells you as you go into the empty elevator and the doors close behind you, already drawing you in. “Who am I to keep you waiting now?”

Some other weekend, the day is bright and gorgeous and neither you nor Nolan are able to to stay in. You move your slow weekend routines out of the apartment for once, going out for brunch and bringing reading material that doesn't involve case files or suspects statements for once.

You walk around the city with a wonder rarely available to you lately and hold each other close. Halfway through the afternoon Nolan disappears across the street in search of your favorite coffee cart, telling you to stay put with a loud kiss to your cheek that leaves you giddy long after he’s gone.

“Hey, sorry,” he says breathlessly when he comes back, carefully keeping both coffees from overflowing. “They had to make a fresh pot just now.”

“‘s alright,” you say after a beat, smiling at him with an unusual shape to your mouth. It makes Nolan pause.

He asks, endearingly concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s–” you begin and then cut yourself off. You look around, calculating. You shake your head, hoping to drop it. “No. Sorry. I just thought–”

Your breaths come out short despite your best tries to keep the previous atmosphere going. Nolan places the coffees on the sidewalk and stands back up, already reaching. He tries to keep his tone even. Calm. “Honey. Is it okay if I touch you?”

“You– yeah,” you blink, almost surprised to see him. The words rush out of you with relief, like you weren’t sure you still had it in you to be verbal. “Yes, please. Please.”

“Come here,” it’s a relief to him too, both your answer and permission. He draws you in with a protective hand on your back and you shudder into the touch, breathing in and out slowly like Dr. Masters taught you. “Great, you’re doing great. I got you.”

“Sorry,” you says again after a while, back in your body. “I thought it was the street where…” you admit. You’re embarrassed, Nolan doesn’t have to see your face to know it. “For a second, I. I saw the alley and it’s– it was literally just that but I was sure…”

You don’t finish your sentence, drifting off, but Nolan knows you too well. Understanding dawns in and he holds you tighter, protective. The perfectly harmless landscape of the city suddenly shifts before his eyes and he starts to panic. He can’t get you out of here fast enough, but maybe if he tries… an Uber would probably be quicker than walking home…

“Nolan,” you cut off his racing thoughts, oddly comforted by the fact that you’re not alone in your freak out, even if Nolan has been rendered useless by his own agitation. “It’s okay. I was wrong, it’s not the street. I’m good.”

“We can go,” he offers, terribly disappointed that your day is about to be cut short but willing to do that and more for your wellbeing. This? In the grand scheme of things this is nothing. You were gonna spend today in bed anyways. “Or– is there something you need, do you want to call–”

“I want to stay,” you say, sure, cupping his face. Your touch helps him breathe, unclogs his throat and opens up his lungs. “I want to be here with you. I want to keep living my life even with… this. It doesn’t get to win.”

Nolan’s eyes burn, but his grin is too big for his face. He kisses you, long and deep and careless of who’s watching. It’s New York, its streets have seen far worse things than a man knee deep in love with his wife. “It doesn’t get to win,” he affirms, catching his breath. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

You grin, shaky, bright. “You’ve told me so once or twice.”

Hand on hand, you pass by the alley. The day is beautiful.

One night Nolan gets out of the bathroom to find you already in bed, frowning at your book. He passes a towel through his wet hair as he asks, “Is it any good?”

You only keep frowning. “It’s– I mean, yeah, but I. I don’t know.”

“What?”

“Have I read this before?” you ask him, showing him the cover.

Nolan squints, mouthing the words, then his expression clears. “Oh, I know. Did Munch give it to you?”

“Yeah,” you sound surprised. You hadn’t told him about John’s offhand gift, a tattered copy of a book he lent to you the other week. “ How’d you know?”

“He was reading it to you,” Nolan begins, then shrugs and seems to hesitate before he continues. “At the hospital.”

You make a face like you just tasted something sour. “Oh.”

“A part of you must’ve heard,” he continues, softer, searching your face for signs to shut the hell up. Other than the initial realization, he finds only pensiveness. “Must remember.”

“I don’t know,” you say, thinking of days so far away and so present still, sometimes laying between you in bed. “It’d be silly, wouldn’t it? That my brain chose to retain bits of a book I heard while unconscious rather than… you know.”

Nolan breathes in deeply, holds it, and lets it out. He tries feeling comfortable in the silence you’ve built as he thinks his words through. His therapist told him once that if he expected a fight to start out of a conversation then he’d start fighting before he realized what he was doing. He’s trying to be better.

“What do you remember?” he dares to ask. You tilt your head towards your lap, fingers running over the edges of the book to ground yourself in the movements. “About the hospital?”

Your smile is brittle and you don’t look at him when you say, “I didn’t even remember what had happened at first.”

“When I first woke up after– after. I still don’t, mostly,” He watches you, patient and encouraging even when you can’t meet his eye. “Like, you know what happened. I got shot and spent weeks in there, but I don’t– It’s pretty much a blur.”

You sigh deeply. “But I woke up and I was afraid anyways. Like my body caught up to the situation before my mind did and I just– I was in pain, and I needed to get out,” you retell.

There’s barely a memory there; of Nolan’s hand in yours and the sheer relief in his voice, the smell and sounds of a hospital that are too familiar in your line of work.

“Sometimes,” you begin, and that’s where you cut yourself off, turning to him and smiling, fixing the facade back on. Nolan rushes to stop you before you completely hide from him, cupping your face tenderly.

You meet his eye and you look afraid. Nolan can’t blame you, it hasn’t been long since he stopped physically fleeing the room whenever you even hinted at the shooting. But he stays rooted in his spot, even if just to prove you both wrong.

“Sometimes?” he goads, braver than he feels. You look at him intensely for what feels a very long time, then begin to relax against his touch.

“Sometimes,” you say, slowly, like you’re still expecting him to make an excuse and leave you to your feelings. “Sometimes I feel like I’m still there,” you admit, lip wobbling. “Just. Lying there. Waiting for someone to find me. To realize something’s not right.”

Nolan’s throat closes off. You’re not talking about the hospital, he realizes as his stomach drops. You’re talking about the alleyway.

“It’s what I dream about, usually,” you sniff. Talking about the nightmare is better than having it, but it makes you nauseous nevertheless. You breathe in and out, deeply, a couple of times before you find your words again. “I’m lying there and it takes forever for someone to find me. Sometimes no one ever does and I wake up thinking I haven’t left that alley.”

That’s where Nolan’s perspective comes into view. He watches you wake, though only sometimes because there are nights in which you refuse to bother him despite how adamant he’s been about waking him up when you need him. He watches you wake and draws you back from the metaphorical cliff into his arms and your bed.

You’d never told him about the dreams. This is definitely a first.

He does his best to breathe, to keep eye contact. He meant it, the silent vow he made to himself when you came forward and asked him to go to therapy together. He’s through running away from this. If he keeps leaving you every time you feel like this, what makes him any different than the man who left you in that alley, fighting for your life?

He does his best. “I don’t know if I can help,” he admits shamefully, out loud for the first time but for the thousandth time to himself. “But I’m here.”

You shudder with a sniff. Shifting closer to him, Nolan takes your weight effortlessly, like this is what he was meant for. That, he’s never doubted.

“We found you,” he continues, a comfort that works for him as he hopes works for you. “We brought you home. I know exactly where you are.”

You lose the fight and bury your face in his shoulder, shaking in Nolan’s arms for a long, long time. Crying, he can tell, but quietly. He doesn’t tell you to be loud about it if you want to. He’s done telling you how to live through your grief.

“I kept thinking of you,” you admit later, much later, into his shirt. Nolan closes his eyes, wrecked. “Of who would call you, or if you… If you’d have to… to come claim a body.”

You feel him tighten his grip around you.

“You were the first thing I recognized,” you continue, quiet. You’re toying with his shirt, soothing your fingers over the soft, worn fabric. “When I woke up, amidst all that panic, there was you.”

You huff a laugh against him, breath warm. “I don’t know if I’ve thanked you for that lately. Calming me down. You’ve always been good at that.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing much,” he admits shamefully.

He feels the way you shake your head, unwavering in your truth. “You do everything. You’re everything.”

“Right back at you, honey,” he says, and you hold each other for a very long time.

Halfway through getting your life back, almost nine months after the shooting that shattered your life to the ground, the team finds and collars the perp.

The same gun he used on you shows up in CODIS for another recent crime and you get a warning text from Fin less than ten minutes before he walks in with the suspect. Rollins is stone-faced by his side, both of them holding on to him despite his very obvious lack of struggle.

He barely even looks at you before he’s glancing away, bored. You remain unrecognizable to him but his features spark a flash of awareness deep in your unconscious and you’re excuse yourself to go dry heave in a bathroom while he gets processed.

Your thumb shakes over the screen of your phone, right on top of Nolan’s contact. You should just call him, you know it. You’ve done it before, and your husband would cross the city during rush hour and bend time to his will just to be by your side and hold you through the panic.

You know, but you can’t. You’ve been doing so good lately, finally; after the year from hell your lives are finally getting a glimpse of normalcy, and this– this is a Setback. Capital S setback, and after everything you’ve put him through… God, you can’t keep doing this to him.

You won’t do this to him. You call your therapist instead and hate every single second of it, hate even more that it works; forty minutes on the phone with her and you exit the bathroom with bloodshot eyes but with your chin held high and hands steady.

Amaro is the first to notice you and he catches your stare immediately, but he only nudges a tower of paperwork from his desk to yours and says, “You snooze, you lose, partner.”

“Dick,” you answer, your voice only a bit nasal. You’re so incredibly thankful for him that you could weep again right there and then.

You sit to get back to work, perp nowhere in sight, and bite the inside of your cheek in thought before you pull your phone back out, sending some rapid-fire texts.

Hey

I love you

You sigh and leaf through the papers, looking for where to start. Working through an equally ridiculous amount of files in his office across the city, Nolan’s eyebrows lift in curiosity at your texts.

I love you too

Is everything alright?

The three dots signifying your reply appear and disappear over the course of a few moments. After a while, his phone chimes again.

Rough day. Just wanted the reminder.

But I’m okay, I promise.

I’ll tell you all about it at home tonight.

Nolan sighs out slowly, and trusts you. Because of it, he watches you grow into your own skin again.

Your visits to Dr. Masters get less and less frequent and the damned paper finally gets signed. The nightmares, though not gone, lessen and don’t make you sick to your stomach anymore as you trace Nolan’s features in the dark to soothe yourself back into a slumber. You tell him everything, become more lenient with your resurfacing memories and in return, you hold Nolan as he talks about those days at the hospital and cries until he physically can’t anymore.

It’s so familiar and so, so new. You’re who you’ve always been and yet Nolan finds himself staring at you sometimes, amazed at the differences– a woman reshaped entirely by trauma and victorious over it nevertheless. Victorious because of it.

When you drag him away from the kitchen sink where dirty dishes sit after dinner, he barely puts up a fight. Nolan eagerly follows you to the couch and sinks into your embrace when you tangle your fingers in his hair, shivering against your welcoming touch.

You’re making out like teenagers– like you used to when you were in college– with no specific purpose until Nolan starts to forget himself. His hands are around your waist, squeezing unconsciously while you, on top of him, swallow his sound of elation and run your tongue along his teeth, wet and dirty.

Jesus, Nolan thinks unabashedly, and wants, wants, wants–

He nudges his leg between your thighs, pants uncomfortably tight, when you call his name. You’re pulling away suddenly, bringing him back from a daze, a hand tangled in his hair. Your fingers twitch with restraint as you look him over, pensive.

Nolan sighs, leaning his temple against yours and trying to get his breathing back into a less agitated rhythm. All he gets is a whisk of your perfume and the warmth of your skin, his efforts useless.

“Right,” he murmurs, voice velvet quiet. He’s still trying to preserve the moment even after your new set of boundaries. “Right. I’m sorry.”

You haven’t gone that far since– Since. Nolan can’t recall the details of the last time you were together, one random night the week you were shot. He didn’t think he’d have to, but now he wishes he had committed the night to memory; your skin under his hands, the sounds you made, how you reached bliss together–

“Don’t be,” you say equally as lowly, pupils blown, gaze ardent. “I want…”

You drift off. It’s suddenly urgent, imperative that Nolan knows what you’re asking for, needs to give it to you immediately.

“What?” he murmurs back, thumbing at your bottom lip, bruised and kissed. Your breath is hot against his skin. “What, honey, what do you want? What can I do?”

“Kiss me again,” You say. Then, before he can comply– “Don’t– don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop.”

“You…” Nolan says, shaking his head to pull himself together, attention still hazy around the edges. Your name tastes so sweet when he says it. “You mean…”

“Please,” you whine, and Nolan’s body reacts to the sound all on its own, hips subtly canting up towards you. You press your mouth to his jaw, tongue barely caressing the skin. “Please, Nole, please keep touching me.”

Nolan curses, both at your words and the realization he might not last as long as he’d like if you keep saying these things to him. “Sweetheart. Oh, are you sure?”

Your breath hitches. “God, Nolan, more than anything else.”

“Come on. Come here,” Nolan insists, turning to kiss you so thoroughly he almost forgets the point he’s trying to make. “I’m gonna do this right, okay? We have a perfectly good bed in the other room–”

He scrambles up and takes your hand, taking you with him. You surrender to him and he kisses your hand, the crook of your elbow, your shoulder and neck, in a rush and yet wanting to make this last as long as possible.

You laugh amidst your urgency, rich and lovely, cupping his face and kissing him soundly, rubbing against him. Nolan is a weak, weak man.

“I love you,” you say while he buries himself inside you later in bed, sheets pooled around the both of you, and looking up at him like you can’t believe he’s real. Nolan’s on top of you and he’s got your fingers tangled together; your hands pinned against the sides of your face. They’re points of steadiness as the tension inside him threatens to snap with each thrust, however small. “I love you, Nole, I love you so much–”

He’s not ashamed to say he’s crying when he finally comes, and you cup his face in your hands with a wounded sound when you realize. You kiss him as you finally let yourself go and it tastes like victory. Like work; like blood, sweat and tears. It feels like being yourself, added scars and all, Nolan’s warmth a steady, sure thing against your side.

started this over a year ago and it's finally yours!!! sorry i've been so absent, i've been having the worst writer's block of my life lol but i hope you love this as much as i do! let me know what you think and i hope you see more from me in the next months! thanks for reading <3

#nolan price x reader #leo writes #nolan price #hugh dancy #law & order #law and order #svu #svu x reader #reader insert #olivia benson #nick amaro #amanda rollins #john munch #donald cragen #fin tutuola #svu imagine #one shot #law and order x reader

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kayyybenson · 2 years ago

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Sick - Nick Amaro

I stood closely behind Nick as he interrogated the suspect. He wanted me to stay behind him, just in case he tries to attack us. He was a step up from the shitty partner I had in Atlanta, and I loved it, Amanda always teased me claiming I had a 'crush' on him. But that's just what twins do to each other, we're not identical appearance-wise, but personality-wise we're practically the same.

"You know we found your DNA on the victim right?" Nick dropped his voice to seem threatening.

"I didn't rape her. I promise."

"Then why did we find your semen in her!?" I yelled.

"I don't know!" I suddenly felt nauseous. I'm assuming I went pale because Nick turned to me, concerned.

"Y/N?" Nick slowly approached me, but I scooted to a corner to throw up the lunch that cost me $20. "Yikes, you good?"

"I don't know." I gasped. He led me out of the room. Amanda and Carisi took our place.

He handed me the trash can that was next to his desk. "Maybe you should go home, you are clearly under the weather."

"No-" I threw up again. "I'm fine."

"Girl, if you don't go home I am personally going to sedate you and drop you off in the middle of nowhere." Fin cut in.

"Jesus Fin," I mumbled, head still in the trashcan.

"Take the rest of the day off Rollins," Liv gave me a concerned look.

"Which one?" She did not like that joke, I groaned and grabbed the keys to Amanda's car, we carpooled today, something we usually don't do. "Tell Mandy I'm taking the car."

"You are not driving when you can't keep your food in your stomach." Nick protested grabbing the keys from me.

"Wha-hey!" I yelled trying to get them back, I guess I moved too fast because I retreated back to my chair and threw up once again.

"Amanda will be taking you home," Liv said. "You both can go, just stop puking in my squad room." I let out a long groan and let Amanda drag me by the arm. Once we got to our apartments she opened my door and led me to the couch.

"I told you the eggs were bad." she chuckled, I groaned and threw a pillow at her. Our apartments were conjointed so she unlocked the middle door and Franny ran in jumping onto me.

"Hey, girl! Oh, I missed you! Hi, baby." I hugged her and rubbed her fur. Eventually, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, hoping to get rid of the nausea. When I just felt sicker I stared at the open fridge "Screw it." I grabbed a bottle of wine, not even bothering to pour it into a cup before drinking some, and falling to the couch.

-------------------------

"Hey Y/N."

"Hey, Mandy." She dropped a bag onto my counter. "What's that?"

"I went shopping, Nick is coming in with some bags too. He wanted to check on you." She smirked at me before leaving for her apartment, Franny following close behind. Nick walked in soon after, carrying two more bags.

"You know you shouldn't drink wine when you're sick." I flipped him off and he smiled. "Amanda said you liked (Flavor) ice cream and (Favorite Candy), so we got some of that. And this. He pulled out a huge stuffed animal.

"What is that?"

"A get well soon teddy bear." I covered my mouth and chuckled. "What?"

"Nicky, it's just food poisoning." He pushed the stuffed animal towards me anyway.

"Take it, Amanda said you have a stuffie collection." My face got hot and I avoided eye contact.

"What-I-I have no idea-" I ran to the bathroom and puked again.

"Just food poisoning my ass." He stood behind me, pulling my hair into a ponytail. Once I was done he led me to my bedroom and pushed all my stuffed animals off to the side. I laid down and he tucked me in, setting some water on the nightstand. He went to walk off but I grabbed his hand.

"No, stay. Please,"

"Y/N, there are stuffed animals everywhere, there's nowhere for me to go." I kicked them all off my bed and pat the empty space. He gave me a look and laid next to me.

"You smell expensive," He chuckled and pulled me close to his body, he was warm, and his breathing was calming. "Nick?"

"Yeah Y/N?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Well, there's a lot of reasons."

"Go on."

"After hearing about how shitty your old partner was I guess I wanted to make sure you have a good experience at SVU, but somewhere in there..... I fell in love."

"With who?" I felt nauseous again and bolted to the bathroom. "Ah, shit!" I yelled when I stubbed my toe.

"I fell in love with you. Look at you, you're gorgeous, I'm glad you and Amanda aren't identical, one is enough." I couldn't hold my laugh in and ended up rolling on the bathroom floor.

"I love you too Nick," I said once I stopped laughing, he leaned in for a kiss but I stopped him. "Nah-uh. Still sick."

#nick amaro imagine #nick amaro x you #nick amaro #law and order svu #svu #amanda rollins #olivia benson #fin tutuola #nick amaro x reader

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stefanmikaleson1864 · 2 years ago

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I’m here for you

Joe Velasco X Reader

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this !! If you like my work please comment like and reblog it means a lot to see interactions on my work.

Y/N POV

Me and Joe had this will they wont they thing going on for a while now. You felt like the vibes were there but it was hard because he was a quiet guy.

You also were a little reserved so no one had the guts to talk to each other. But slowly by surely the two of you opened up to each other. Talking and texting every chance you got.

It had only been a couple of months and you were head over heels in love.

Lately thought he had gone through a rough patch and you were trying to be there for him without stepping on toes.

Olivia our captain was against me even talking to him. Which i personally didn’t understand.

I Mean I know what he was accused of but i think we all deserve the benefit of the doubt.

I mean just become someone decided to secretly record an interview we should all turn on him. I feel like he deserved to tell his side of the story.

I let everyone in the unit how I was feeling about the situation which was causing a lot of heat in the unit.

“Y/N what did I tell you about staying away” Captain Benson asked.

“All i did was text him to make sure he was doing that’s all” I said

“You disobeyed my orders i told you flat out no communication” She said

“I didn’t ask about the case or anything he’s my friend I ‘m not going to turn my back on him especially when he needs people now” I said in a defensive manner.

Cap just looked at me and I could tell she was trying to find the right next words to say to me.

“Listen to me I am saying this because you are a great detective and you have a great career ahead of you and you need to stay focused okay” She told me

The words she said to me kind of irritated me a little bit but i kept my composer and bit my tongue. I didn’t want to start a fight and cause more tension.

“I understand cap” was all you could muster out at the moment.

“Your dismissed the days over just go home and get some rest and think about what I said.” She said.

“Yes Ma’am thank you” I said

She put her glasses on and started pulling some papers out of her giant stack she had and started focusing on them.

Finn and Amanda both looked at me with worried look on their faces. I think when I walked out I looked a little mad and upset.

“You know she’s right you just gotta focus on you at the moment” Amanda said

Something in you broke a little and what ever you had been pushing down had worked it way up.

Because you looked over at them sitting in their desk and then spoke out

“I find that a bit ironic considering your history of dating you and Nick Aamaro and then getting pregnant by Lt Murphy who you were under by the way. Me and Velscao are friends and im finding it pretty messed up that were just supposed to turn our back on a friend” You snapped.

Finn looked surprised as hell and Amanda was taken back and not sure on what to say next. Which you didn’t even bother giving her the chance.

You quickly gathered your stuff and then headed out. In the background you heard Finn say

“Just let go and let’s go home” He said

You walked out the squad room and headed downstairs. You were to worked up to even wait for the elevator.

You ran down the stairs and then headed out the front door. The fresh air hitting you in the face made you instantly feel a little better. You just headed to the car and threw your stuff in.

You didn’t even think about going home you just began driving. You tried to clear your head to make you feel a little better. ]

Your stomach started growling and you decided to stop for some dinner. There was a local diner that Joe introduced you to.

You pulled up and got out and walked in . It was pretty quiet and you were thankful for not having to deal with people.

You sat in the booth you and Joe always sat in. You were looking at the menu but not really even paying attention.

You tried to push back frustration tears from everything going on. Suddenly a man wearing a hoodie sat across from you which scared the crap out of you

“Omg what the hell” You asked

You heard a familiar laugh and then calmed down immediately when you realized who it was.

“Joe what the hell are you doing here” You asked

You looked up at him he gave you a sad look.

“I guess i just wanted to see you” He said

“Yeah me to but how did you know I was here” You asked

“Because I know you I figured you were just getting off of work and was probably hungry so you came here and sat in our booth” Joe said

You blushed and smiled at him knowing you so well. Or were you that predictable you thought

“How are you with everything” You asked

“It’s been hard you know having to turn on Chilli and not also you know” Joe said

“ you know what” You asked

“Not being able to talk to you. You have no idea how long I have been wanting to talk to you and see you it killed me” Joe said

“It’s not fair that Cap thinks she can just dictate our personal lives you know I missed you to a lot I have been wanting to see you It killed me too not beng able to see you” You told him.

“I don’t want to bring you down with me” Joe said

“You wouldn’t do that I’m here for everything the good and the bad” You said grabbing his hand.

He took your hand and looked up at you and smiled and gave your hand a squeeze.

“I’m here for you always” you said to him

“I know and that’s the problem he said

Your face kind of dropped and it was hard not to feel hurt.

Joe noticed your face and took his other hand and grabbed your free one and squeezed both of them together.

“It’s not like that i don’t wanna drag you down with me I love you to much” He said

You gave him a surprised look followed by a smile

“You love me” You questioned

He laughed a little bit.

“I’m being serious” you said pouting

“I know me to I’m trying to tell you I love you. Like more than friends you know and I don’t wanna be the reason your career goes up in flames” He said

“Listen here Joe Velscao” you said

“Oh my whole government name it’s serious” Joe said smiling

“Shut the hell up and listen I love you so much and you are the best part of me and I am a better person and detective because of you know and I know it’s only been a couple of month but when you know you know and I just know” You said rambling towards the end.

Joe leaped towards you and kissed you hard. You kissed him back and you were both smiling in each other’s faces.

The kiss broke and he sat down.

“Listen Y/N i love you so much and like you said when you know you know and I do feel that way about you which is why I wanna protect you” Joe said

“I’m here i’m a big girl we are going to figure this out together but you gotta tell me the truth that stuff you said in the tapes was it true” You asked

“Yeah it is but to a point i’m clean I never touched drugs ever but with the dad and son Chilli covered my ass and I owe that to him to help and try and cover his” Joe said

“I know you feel like that but you also know what ever is going on in the past you gotta close the wound and it should be on your time not anyones else’s okay but you know what the right thing to do is” You said

“I know I know your right and i know what i gotta do i just don’t the accusations and the rush to judgement” Joe said

“I get that and I agree that’s not fair to you and you shouldn’t have to prove who you are after all the hard work you been doing. But this is where we are so you need to go and sit down and talk to Oliva and be honest with everything and let the cards fall where they do” You said

“Yeah you're probably right and I know it’s just hard actually doing it” Joe said

“I will go in with you tomorrow okay i got you. You won’t go in there alone.” You said

“Thank you” Joe said squeezing my hand

“Now let’s eat I’m hungry that’s the whole reason why i’m here” You said laughing

“Yes Ma’am” Joe said

The waitress came back over and the two of you ordered. Of course she knew what you were getting because it was the same old thing.

“So uh after this little confession is this considered a date” You asked

Joe’s face lit up red and he looked up at you and smiled.

“Nah trust me you deserve a much better place than this for our first official date” He said

“Oh you don’t know what you just walked yourself into. Because i am going to take you to the most expensive restaurant i can in New York” You said laughing

“Oh you the person who orders the most basic food ever you wouldn’t even eat the nice food so good luck with that” Joe said laughing

“Don’t worry about me” You said smirking.

You both couldn’t contain your laughter of that. Joe really loosened up and relaxed and you both dropped the work conversation after that. T

alking about everything from your favorite shows you would watch together.

The food came out just a little bit later and you both shoved your faces with food. It was either really good or you were really hungry.

The rest of the night you both laughed and talked. You also couldn’t help but wonder how Liv was going to take you defying her orders but that didn’t matter right now.

Because there is no one else you would rather be with than Joe. Nothing could keep the two of you apart from each other.

No matter what happed the two of you would always be there for each other

#joe velasco #joe velasco x reader #joe velasco imagine #joe velasco one shot #octavio pisano #law and order svu #svu imagines #svu x reader #svu oneshot #Olivia Benson #Amanda Rollins #fin tutuola #law and order special victims unit

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australiancarisi · 4 months ago

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a little snippet of a sonny x sister!reader

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Sonny yelled. Amanda stared at her husband. It was rare that Sonny ever raised his voice, especially with her.

“Why are you so upset?” she asked after a moment of silence “you fell in love with your partner, why can’t she?”

“It’s different. We didn’t get together until after I moved to the DAs office”

“So you are gonna try and tell me you didn’t love me when we were partner?” Amanda raised her eyebrows at him. She knew she had him. Sonny ran his hands over his face.

“She’s my little sister ‘manda. My baby sister”

“Who is a grown woman and make make decisions for herself”

“And what if one of those decisions is between saving someone and saving him? What if one of those decisions is between going after a perp or watching him die?”

“Okay, now you are just being dramatic” Amanda rolled her eyes “the job is dangerous, we both know that. But we also both know that a gunman could walk into the mall. Or a drunk driver could hit our car. Or there could be a hurricane. How many of her boyfriends have you actually met?”

“Not many”

“Exactly. She’s afraid to open up and look how you reacted when she did tell you?” Sonny just sighed. Amanda walked over and wrapped her arms around him before continuing. “how about you just tell her you love her and if he hurts her you know how to get rid of him without anyone batting an eye?”

“You’re right”

“I usually am”

can anyone guess the mystery man?

#law and order svu imagines #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #Rollisi #sonny carisi x amanda rollins

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megalony · 2 years ago

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Reliving the dream- Part 4

I suddenly felt inspired to write for Rafael Barba and SVU again, I hope you will all like this part. Any requests and comments would be greatly appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @thereisa8ella @qardasngan

@a-brignac

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) and Rafael had to recover from losing their baby 2 years ago, but their lives start to change again when (Y/n) finds out she’s pregnant again.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A smile wormed it way onto Rafael's lips and he paused in his ministrations of undoing his tie when he felt a pair of warm arms securing around his middle. He shivered when he felt (Y/n)'s face pressing between his shoulder blades and her hot breaths fanning against his skin through his dress shirt.

"Hello mi amour," His voice was soft as butter while he threw his tie onto the bed and kicked off his shoes. He had only just walked through the bedroom door and (Y/n) automatically clung to him like he had been gone days instead of hours.

"Hi baby." (Y/n) closed her eyes and inhaled his scent before she tightened her arms around him, not wanting to pull away just yet. She could feel him chuckling quietly and he reached an arm behind him to hold her hip before he slowly turned around in her arms.

With a growing smile, Rafael cupped (Y/n)'s face in his hands and pressed a longing kiss to her lips and he swore she melted against him into a puddle. "How was your day?" He spoke quietly in between kisses and he slowly walked (Y/n) back until her knees hit the bed and she sat down.

Even though she had seen him this morning before work it felt like the hours had dragged until he walked through the door. (Y/n) wasn't ever so keen on being home alone, when they were both at work it was okay because she was busy and around people but if Rafael was working and she wasn't, (Y/n) felt at a loss for what to do. All she wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms lately and the moment he let her go she felt empty.

It didn't dawn on (Y/n) that she was only in her bra and underwear until she watched her husband rake his eyes over her frame and his smile turned into a catfish grin that made her stomach flip. She had been in the process of getting changed after a bath when Rafael came home.

A curious look came across Rafael's lips as he leaned over (Y/n) with his hands resting on her hips and his legs stood between her thighs. He watched intently as she took hold of one hand and moved his palm until it was pressed under her growing stomach. Silence enveloped them and he waited patiently and confused until he felt a small wriggle against his hand that made his face light up.

They were at twenty weeks now so it was about now that (Y/n) would start to feel the baby moving and soon she would feel them kicking and she knew the moment it started, everything would feel real. Up until now she still couldn't get her mind around the fact that they were going to have a baby. That she was going to have a baby.

All she could think about was their baby girl and a repeat of history that would render them childless again.

The chances of having another miscarriage or stillbirth were very slim and extremely unlikely but it didn't make it any easier. (Y/n) wanted to be the kind of woman who could go out and look at baby clothes and buy some in advance without panicking that if she bought even one outfit, she would tempt fate and then she would suddenly have a miscarriage. It didn't feel safe to buy anything or get the spare room set up and decorated, (Y/n) didn't want to do anything until their baby was almost born.

If she was being honest with herself, (Y/n) would rather not get anything ready until she'd gone through labour and was sure they would be able to bring their child home at the end of it all.

Going through labour and ending up with no child at the end didn't even come with feelings, it left (Y/n) and Rafael hollow. They were able to see, hold and cuddle their baby for as long as they wanted but it wasn't the same because they had to savour her touch because one touch had to last a lifetime without her.

"They know their Papi." Rafael smiled charmingly before he pulled back and began to unbutton his shirt.

At their scan next week they would find out if they were having a boy or a girl and though Rafael was excited, he knew (Y/n) was apprehensive. If they had a girl, it would feel like they were replacing Bella and he knew (Y/n) would just be waiting until the day she thought she would miscarry. If they had a boy maybe she wouldn't be so panicked but he wasn't sure.

He wanted her to enjoy the experience like last time, he knew (Y/n) had loved feeling the baby move and watching her body change to look after their baby. He would feel a lot better if (Y/n) was calmer and excited rather than panicked and worried.

"Your mum came round today," (Y/n) slowly rose from the bed with one hand rubbnig soothing circles over her stomach. She made her way over to the chair in front of the window and held out a box to Rafael.

"From mami?" He questioned befoe he took the small blue box from (Y/n)'s hands and set it down on the bed to take a peek.

His breath suddenly got stuck at the back of his throat and he felt himself tense for a few seconds as he looked into the box. Rafael's hands were subtally trembling when he slowly pulled the hand-knitted blanket out of the tissue paper. It was a lovely cream colour with rows in squares and two rows or purple and green bordering around the blanket.

"It's lovely, I cried when I opened it." (Y/n) couldn't speak without her voice breaking and it made tears well up in her eyes.

The blanket was beautiful and it was hand-made which made it all the more special but it hurt.

(Y/n) felt awful when her mother-in-law came round and gave her the gift because she couldn't help but cry when she looked at the blanket. It was touching to have something so lovely that must have taken hours to complete and it would be very special to her child when they grew older. But that was the part that made (Y/n) cry. She didn't know if the baby would be okay or even alive to appreciate this gift.

When they told his mother last time that they were pregnant, she had been over the moon and she made a similar blanket which was champagne white with pink flowers and pink ribbon sewn around the edging. She also made purple slippers for their baby as well but they had been made in vain.

"She's been dying to make some outfits since we told her." Rafael gently folded the blanket back and put it back in the box before he turned towards (Y/n).

"I know, and I want her to make them but we didn't even keep the last blanket she made, we b... I can't do that again."

(Y/n) rubbed at her tired, sore eyes before she sat down on the bed and flopped to lay on her side.

Deep down, (Y/n) wished she had that baby blanket his mother made for them. It might have been something she could hold onto and cuddle when she yearned to have their baby in her arms. It would have been a good source of comfort for them both but they didn't have it anymore. When they lost Bella, they had dressed her in the only outfit Rafael's mother had managed to make for her with how premature she had been and they wrapped her up in the same blanket she had made. Bella was buried with the blanket so she was warm and comfortable.

(Y/n) couldn't go through picking an outfit out and swaddling their next baby up in this blanket to be buried in the ground. She couldn't do it again.

"Querida, we won't have to do that this time." Rafael sat down on the bed beside her and moved his hand to smooth over her stomach. "You can feel them moving about now and we know they're okay. We're gonna have a baby who will be perfect."

A grin broke out on (Y/n)'s face despite the few tears still leaving her eyes and she slowly carded her fingers through Rafael's hair when he shuffled down so that he was level with her stomach. She wasn't sure what he whispered but whatever it was made the baby within her stir before he kissed her stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey hun, you want something to eat?"

Amanda's voice broke (Y/n) out of her thoughts and she tiredly looked up, trying to look around for the blonde who was sitting on her desk across from (Y/n). She had a Chinese takeout pot in her hand and chopsticks in the other that she was clattering together like a crab's pinchers which made (Y/n) smile despite how rough she felt.

Nothing she had been eating recently had stayed down long enough to digest, everything came back up and (Y/n) was feeling worse for wear because of it. She just prayed that Rafael wouldn't come down to the precinct today because she promised him if she didn't manage to keep breakfast down then she would stay home. But she didn't want to be home alone, if anything happened to the baby she didn't want to be alone and work was the best place to be when she was around her friends. It wasn't like she was doing any hard work either when she was bound to desk duty for the foreseeable future.

"No, thanks I'm good." It was tempting, (Y/n) was always partial to some noodles but she didn't want to take the risk. It would be better to fast for the day and let her stomach settle than risk eating something and throw it up later.

"You sure (Y/n)? There's some rice or some plain noodles if you want." Carisi perched himself on the edge of (Y/n)'s desk and held a container out towards her with a bright smile and a fork in his hand because he couldn't work the chopsticks properly.

"No... w-what have you got?" (Y/n) couldn't help the way her lips pulled into a frown when the smell hit her nose like a truck.

It never normally affected her but even the simplest food seemed to smell so horrid to (Y/n) now she was pregnant and it was making bile rise in her throat. All she wanted to do was eat, her stomach was growling with hunger and it was making her head spin but she couldn't when throwing it up again later felt so awful. Her throat burned from the acid when she was sick and her stomach seemed to turn in knots.

Starving herself until she was better would work because she had tried to eat little and often but it only meant she was sick more often. Even water wasn't staying down recently either.

"Sweet and sour chicken, want some?"

The moment Carisi moved the container towards her, (Y/n) leaned back and held her breath so she wouldn't smell the food and she pushed it back towards him, hoping he would get the hint and move it away.

"Sorry Carisi but it smells, could you...?"

"Yeah, yeah sure, sorry. Why don't you try some crackers?" He could see she was feeling a bit queasy and he also knew she hadn't eaten anything for lunch yet. Going without wouldn't be the best idea, at least some crackers would line her stomach and be easier to hold down.

It felt good to eat a few prawn crackers, (Y/n) could feel the tension leaving her body and her stomach- and the baby, seemed to settle a bit more when she ate a few. It was so tempting to gorge out and eat the whole bag but (Y/n) knew better than to do that because it wouldn't help and it was daring to want to try some rice and noodles but she had to pace herself and take it slow. Maybe this afternoon she could try and eat something else.

That was a mistake.

(Y/n) pressed her palm to her forehead and closed her eyes, trying to take a few deep breaths but she could feel the panic bubbling up in her stomach. Eating had been a mistake and it had barely been twenty minutes since she had those crackers and they were churning in her stomach already.

She was going to be sick and she knew it. Pushing herself up onto unsteady feet, (Y/n) tried to smile and walk slowly but she broke out into a sprint for the toilets when she could feel bile rising at the back of her throat and bubbling up into her mouth.

She didn't make it to the toilets.

Her knees caved in next to the water fountain that held her weight for her as she clung to it and heaved onto the floor. Even the cup of water she had managed to have this morning came back up with vengence and everything spilled out onto the floor until she was coughing and spluttering. Her skin was burning against the cold fountain beside her and (Y/n) could feel her body beginning to shake.

"(Y/n)?"

"Fuck," (Y/n) choked on the word as well as the water that was still trying to escape her lips.

(Y/n) tried to lift her head to see her husband hurrying towards her but her head felt like it was suddenly full of lead and weighing towards the floor. Even her eyes burned when she looked up through hooded lashes to see a blurry image of Rafael coming at her at full speed.

"Querida, look at me." Rafael's voice was gently but full of worry when he reached her side. He dropped his briefcase to the floor and in an instant his arms were around her waist, keeping her to his side. "Come on, mi amour." His voice was soft and gentle and he let her lean her weight onto him and guide her slowly down the corridor to the toilets.

The moment they got into the toilets, (Y/n) felt like the room had spun on its axis and the only thing keeping her up when her legs caved in was Rafael's arms that swooped under her armpits and hoisted her up so she didn't collide with the toilet.

"Fuck! Sweetheart, you still with me?" He wasn't sure if she had fainted or if her energy had dwindled but when she buckled, he held her back to his chest before he slowly lowered her down to her knees in front of the toilet. Sighing in relief when he heard a small whimper from her lips before her head flopped on the toilet rim and she threw up again.

With a deep breath left Rafael's lips before he kneeled down in the small cubicle with her and gently pulled her hair away from her face.

She didn't look well. Her skin was blotched with sweat and she was burning up and her tired eyes could barely stay open and even though she had been sick, her lips were clearly dry and chapped telling him she hadn't been drinking enough.

It broke Rafael's heart when (Y/n) started to cry mixed with choked breaths when she felt like she could barely breathe at all. If he'd have known she was this bad he wouldn't have gone to the office this morning, he would have stayed home with her and made sure she either ate something or went to the hospital to be checked up because this wasn't good.

"Alright sweetheart, it's okay let it out. I'll talk to Liv and take you to hospital."

(Y/n) didn't want to be like this, she didn't want to be or feel like a burden because she should be able to look after herself and the baby, Rafael shouldn't always have to come to her rescue but it was good that he did. She didn't know where she would be without him.

It took a lot of effort for (Y/n) to push herself away from the toilet and lean back into Rafael but she instantly felt better and relaxed when she leaned into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She could feel him kissing her damp forehead and muttering something in Spanish against her hair but she couldn't work out what he said, all she could hear was static in her ears. Her head snuggled further into his chest and a murmur vibrated against her throat but she didn't know what she was trying to say.

"What?" Rafael leaned his chest back and tilted his head down to try and look at (Y/n) to work out what she said but his body tensed and his muscles tightened when she went limp against him and her head lolled against his chest. "Oh, sweetheart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Rafi?"

"How do you feel, Querida?"

(Y/n) leaned into his touch when his hand smoothed over her cheek and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed she appeared to be laying in. She stayed quiet for a few moments, trying to work out what was happening and remember what she was doing before she woke up here.

She could remember throwing up at the precinct and being in the car with Rafael but everything else was made of cotton wool and clogged up in her mind.

"W-what...?" Her hazy vision looked down at her hand but she shuddered when she saw a needle stuck into her vein on the back of her hand connected to a drip. What were they giving her?

"No, no Querida leave it in, please." Rafael was quick to grab both her hands and hold them on his lap to stop her from trying to take out the IV. He couldn't have her rip it out like he'd seen her do before, there would be blood everywhere and it would only serve to hurt her. It was there to get her fluids up and to get the anti-emmetics into her system so she could start to eat properly without throwing everything back up again.

"How long have we been here?"

"About three hours I think. I brought you to the emergency room and they brought you up here, you're on an IV for fluids and some anti sickness meds so you can start to eat soon. They want to keep you in overnight and make sure you actually keep something down before we go."

He hadn't expected her to remember what happened this afternoon, she had seemed very out of sorts the few times she woke up.

He managed to get her in the car with the help of Carisi and she briefly woke up and then again when they were waiting downstairs in the emergency room. When she woke up again when they moved her into this room Rafael had pinned her down so they could put the cathiter in her vein and since then he'd made a few phone calls and waited for her to come back around again.

"I don't want to stay, Rafi, baby please-"

"You can baby me all you want but we're not leaving until they say you're ready." The way he rose his brow and quirked his lips made (Y/n)'s stomach flutter before she suddenly moved both their hands to rest on her tummy. It only now dawned on her that something may have happened or gone wrong with their baby. "The baby's fine." It was as if he could read her mind and see all the worries floating around and he wanted to quell each one to make her feel better.

He would burn the world down if she asked him to.

His smile suddenly softened and (Y/n) could see his eyes glossing over before he leaned closer until theri foreheads were touching.

"They did a quick ultrasound to double check everything was okay... we're having a baby boy, Querida."

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba one shot #imagine #law and order #law and order svu #Olivia Benson #sonny carisi #Amanda Rollins

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idontevenknowwhatt · 2 months ago

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Amanda Rollins Masterlist

** means 18+

x reader

None yet

x daughter

Not Worth It

#amanda rollins x daughter #amanda rollins #Amanda Rollins x reader #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu #kelli giddish #Amanda Rollins x daughter!reader #Amanda Rollins x y/n #y/n #isabella benson rollins #fanfiction #masterlist

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scentofdriedflowers · 2 years ago

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Oh no I just realized... i won't ever see the blazers of the week too with Amanda's gone😭 I was always so curious which blazers would she wear every new episode because she always looked amazing, there were like 3/4 every episode, Amanda the queen of blazers now no more 😞, she will be the best dressed professor at Fordham tho 😄

#imagine having a professor like that #my professors never looked like that 😭 lol #amanda rollins #law and order svu #svu

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bi-bard · 4 months ago

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Taste Test - Rafael Barba Imagine [Law & Order: SVU]

Title: Taste Test

Pairing: Rafael Barba X Reader

Word Count: 1,075 words

Warning(s): none that I'm aware of

Summary: The SVU detectives go to visit their favorite ADA at his office. They end up finding out more about him than they ever planned to.

Author's Note: I needed something fast and cute to give me a break from some of the longer stories that I'm working on (there is a doctor who oc story and a grimm story in the works right now). I'm also on the tail end of my master's program, so it's all a little bit hectic right now.

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I rarely ever had the time to visit Rafael at his office.

Even without considering his frantic and busy work schedule, mine simply never allowed it. I owned the bakery that my dad had opened years ago. I took over after his retirement and I hadn't stopped moving at top speed since. It was always looking at the menu or staffing or some crisis that needed to be fixed right then and there.

But sometimes, just sometimes, I would have a day where I had enough people and a slow enough flow of customers that I could pack a little bag of treats and a few drinks and go see him at lunch.

Today was one of those very lucky days.

Rafael's office door was slightly open when I got there. I knocked on it lightly, pushing it just enough to peak my head through.

"Hello- (Y/n)." he stood up as soon as he saw me. "What are you doing here?"

"Slow day," I replied with a shrug. "Thought that I could tempt you into a break with some food and coffee."

"If there's a day that I say no to that, assume that someone has replaced me with a clone."

"Noted," I chuckled, placing the bag and the drink carrier on the round table in the corner. I handed him one cup. "Here, try this. It's a potential drink for the summer menu."

"Alright." he took a small sip of the drink. He nodded. "It's good. What is it?"

"It's basically a latte but made with rose milk and rose foam."

"How... How do you make rose milk?"

"Shh, don't ask questions," I said as I sat down in one of the table's chairs. Rafael chuckled as he sat next to me. "Do you really like it?"

"It's great," he promised.

"Good," I mumbled. "I was a bit worried about it."

"You have reason to be." Rafael grabbed my hand over the table. "You are a genius when it comes to making up drinks."

"I hope you feel the same way about my ability to make up food," I replied, reaching into the bag that I had brought with me. I put down a napkin and plopped a muffin on the top.

"Oh, absolutely," he let go of my hand to pick up the muffin. I chuckled as he did. He took a bite and hummed. "This is a winner."

"Glad to hear." I leaned over and swiped some crumbs off of his chin with my thumb. "But you do praise all of my food."

He hummed again as he took another bite, nodding before he was able to speak, "Because all of your food is amazing."

I grabbed my drink, taking a sip before changing the subject, "How has your day been? Anything important happening?"

"Not yet-"

"Barba-"

We both looked to the door as a group of people walked in. There were three of them; two women and a man.

"Perfect timing," Rafael mumbled to me. I would have chuckled if I hadn't been so caught off guard.

"Hello," one of the women said.

"Hi," I replied, standing up as I did.

The woman looked at Rafael. "I didn't know that you had a meeting."

"It's... It's not a meeting," I explained quickly. I always spoke quickly when I was nervous and having three people suddenly walk into the room with no warning made me very nervous. "I was just stopping by for lunch."

"Detectives," Rafael stood up behind me, touching my back. "This is (Y/n). My partner. (Y/n), these are some of the detectives from the S.V.U. Olivia Benson, Amanda Rollins, and Sonny Carisi."

"Nice to meet you all."

"You too," Olivia nodded at me. "I hope he hasn't been hiding you from us."

I chuckled. "No, no, not at all. I- I own a little bakery and cafe place not too far from here. I tend to be pretty swamped, but I had some downtime, so I stopped by for lunch."

"I thought that I recognized you!" Sonny pointed at me. "I've been by your shop."

"Oh, good, hope you liked it."

"Oh, loved it," he said. He turned to the other detectives. "There was this awesome sandwich thing on the menu during the fall. I've been craving it for months."

"I'll make note of that, so I remember to bring it back this year," I promised. "In the meantime, I'd be happy to treat you all to some food and drinks. I'm starting to sort out the summer menu; you should all come over sometime and test out some of the ideas I have."

"You don't have to-"

"I want to," I stopped Olivia in her tracks. "You guys work with Rafael so much that we might as well be friends. Plus, I need some other guinea pigs than just him. I'm sure Rafael would be more than happy to sort out a night for you and anyone else on your team to join us."

He looked over at me, pausing before he replied, "Over the moon."

"See?"

"Alright then," Olivia nodded. I glanced over to see Sonny trying to subtly celebrate the good news.

"I should get out of the way," I touched Rafael's shoulder as I spoke before going to grab my drink. "I'm sure whatever you all need to talk about is more important than my seasonal menu."

"I'll walk you out." Rafael guided me to the door.

We walked together to the point where we were just out of view of the windows in his office. I turned around and placed a quick kiss on his lips.

"I'll see you tonight," he muttered.

"Can't wait," I mumbled back. "Don't forget about the little tasting event that we're hosting."

"I won't," he promised, leaning over to kiss me again. He added a second kiss to my temple. "I love you."

"Love you too," I said before pulling away properly.

My phone started ringing as soon as I started walking out.

"I'm already on my way back," I answered before any question could be asked.

"Thank God." I heard from the other end. "Someone is promising to come back and have a stern talk to you."

"Great, sounds fun. I'll be there in a few minutes."

I let out a huff as I hung up and started jogging down the street.

Sometimes these short lunch dates were the only thing keeping me from running for the hills.

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Author's Note: The drink I described is actually an actual drink at local coffee shop in my area! I am not clever enough to make it up myself.

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TAG LISTS:

Everything - @geeksareunique

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#imagine #fanfiction #x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanfiction #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu x reader #law and order imagine #law and order fanfiction #law and ordeer x reader

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x-bluefire-heart-x · 7 months ago

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Forever and Always

So first I owe an apology to @autumntheblogger who requested a sequel to Our Family. It has taken me a while to write this and be happy with it. But it is finally here and I really hope it was worth the wait.

I recommend reading Our Family first, which is linked below but you don't have to.

Warnings: None. Just good old fluff.

Masterlist

Prompt List

Our Family

You smiled softly as Rafael whined low in his throat as you slowly moved out from under his arm that was wrapped tightly around your waist. You wiggled out of bed looking back at him as you sat up, his forehead was wrinkled as he reached out to you in his sleep. You huffed out a laugh putting your pillow in his reach before leaning over and pressing a kiss to the furrow in his eyebrows. It was a similar event every time you got up before him, it was rather adorable, although a little bit amusing at the same time.

You swapped your shirt for the one of his that was sitting at the end of the bed as always before you padded down the hallway, checking in on Noah before continuing to the kitchen. Rafael had had a long night, a difficulty in a case causing him to stay later than he normally did these days, so you wanted to cook him a nice breakfast before he had to head into the office.

You were half way through cooking waffles and some egg and bacon when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and lips on the back on your neck before Rafael buried his head in the crook of your neck.

“You could have slept a little longer babe,” you whispered.

“Hmm, I could have, but you weren’t there,” Rafael whispered pressing kisses up and down your neck. “There is no point sleeping in if you aren’t with you.”

“Sook,” you teased.

“You are so mean to me, Carino,” Rafael whined, you could feel him pouting. “Don’t make me tell Liv on you.”

“Ooh, bringing out the big guns huh?” you asked lightly running your fingers along his forearm. “You know she would be on my side right?”

“Fine, I’ll tell Finn,”

“Also on my side,” you turned your head enough to kiss him on the temple before you pulled out of his arms to plate up the rest of the food. “Could you get our son?”

“I can go get our son,” Rafael grinned sneaking in one last kiss before going to get Noah. It didn’t matter how much time had passed since you had told him that Noah was his son as much as he was yours, he would always get so happy to refer to Noah as “his” or “our” son. You shook your head a little as you brought the plates to the table, being sure to grab Noah’s sippy cup with his juice and Rafael’s cup of coffee. You could hear him coming back down the hall, humming softly to Noah.

“So, what is the plan today?” he asked, getting Noah settled.

“Hm, gotta drop Noah off at day care, then I have a meeting with a client that’s probably going to take all day,” you sighed, already feeling the headache that this day will induce.

“Wait, is this that guy that keeps changing his mind?” Rafael asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, after we agree, he calls and then says he doesn’t want it that way anymore, it is doing my head in,”

“Next time he tries, tell him your boyfriend is a lawyer,” Rafael grinned. “A verbal agreement is a legally binding contract.”

“Mhm, my boss will love it if I subtly imply that I will sue one of our top paying clients,” you roll your eyes.

“Well, the option is there,” he placed a kiss on your forehead as he stood up. “Thanks for breakfast I gotta get into the office.”

“Have a good day!” you were too focused on helping Noah eat to see the look on Rafael’s face. His hand went into the pocket of his pants and stayed there as he headed out the door, looking back once to the scene at the kitchen table before closing the door.

---

Rafael stood outside the station one hand in his pocket fiddling with the box that he had been carrying around for months, since you had told him that he was Noah’s father. He had been standing there for a lot longer than he ever wanted to admit.

“Counsellor?” Rafael jumped at the sound of Nick’s voice behind him. “Are you going in?”

“Yes, need to speak with Liv about the new case you lot have dumped on me,” Rafael cleared his throat attempting to cover up how nervous he was.

“We haven’t given you a new case,” Nick raised his eyebrow as he followed Rafael inside. “And you’re jumpier than normal, it’s too early for you to have had enough caffeine to make you like this considering your tolerance.”

“I hate detectives,” Rafael muttered.

“You’re nervous,” it was not a question as Nick’s eyes traced the movement of Rafael’s in his pocket. “Congrats.”

“Not a word…I haven’t even told Liv yet,” Rafael pointed his finger at Nick. “And I want to ask for Liv’s blessing…and Finns.”

“My lips are sealed,” Nick promised as they entered the bull pin.

“Why is one of my detectives telling you that his lips are sealed?” Liv questioned, her eyes narrowing as she catalogued every movement Rafael made before her eyes zeroed in on his hand still in his pocket. “My office. Finn, join us.” Her tone left no room for argument.

“Good luck,” Amanda winked as both men followed Olivia into her office. Rafael felt his heart pick up speed, he knew Liv would notice straight away, but he had not considered her tone to be that specific one, it was her Lieutenant voice. And the way Finn walked ahead of him was the same way he walked into the interrogation room.

Olivia closed the door behind the two of them before she walked around her desk, Finn taking his spot right beside her as they both stared Rafael down. It was rare for him to be on the receiving end of those looks, at the same time. He now knew how a suspect felt when Liv and Finn would team up. Rafael felt sweat start to build on his forehead as he took a deep breath.

“I am aware that the both of you already know what I want to ask,”

“Well, you aren’t very subtle Counsellor,” Finn mused. “You’re more wired than I have ever seen you.”

“Have I mentioned lately how I hate detectives?” Rafael asked trying to buy himself some more time. He had originally had it all planned out but he found himself struggling to remember everything he had practiced.

“Quit stalling Rafa,” Liv teased, which helped Rafael relax a little. “I wanna hear what you have to say.”

“I wanted to ask for your blessing to ask y/n to marry me,” Rafael forced out. “I love her with my entire heart and soul. I could not imagine my life without her. Or without Noah, the two of them have changed my life for the better. I mean I have a life now, before I wasn’t really living but y/n and Noah brought light and love to my life. They helped me to live again.”

Olivia’s lips twitched as she struggled to keep her face neutral, she didn’t want to break too early but her eyes gave away everything. They brightened with happiness with every new word that left Rafael’s mouth. She knew the two of them would be a forever thing from the moment they started seeing each other but to hear how much her sister had impacted Rafael’s life was another thing entirely, especially when she already knew how much he had impacted her life as well. Finn on the other hand had no issue with holding strong. He needed to rib the ADA a little.

“Not our permission?” Finn raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that normally what people ask for? Not blessing?”

“My carino is her own person and I don’t believe she would appreciate if I asked for someone else’s permission to marry her as if she was property,” Rafael pointed out. “But to have the blessing of her sister, who raised her and your blessing Finn, who has been such an important person in her life. That would mean a lot to me, to know that the two of you trust her heart to me.”

“Well,” Liv said her voice a little heavy and if Rafael peered a little closer he could have sworn that he saw some tears forming.

“I got questions,” Finn demanded, still not giving in but his demeanour had softened. Rafael fought so hard to not roll his eyes but Olivia did not.

“Of course you do, one would forget that I was the one who raised her,” Liv muttered.

“Alright, Finn,” Rafael sighed before squaring his shoulders. “What questions?”

“When are you planning to pop the question?”

“This Saturday, it’s the anniversary of when we met,”

“I am trying very hard to restrain myself right now,” Olivia muttered as she stood up and walked around to stand in-front of Rafael, she pulled him into a tight hug which he returned in kind. “I whole heartedly give you my blessing to marry my sister. I know you will continue to make her happy and that you will continue to be an amazing father to Noah.”

Finn kept his arms crossed as he moved to stand in-front of Rafael, his eyes narrowed. He stared Rafael down but Rafael did not waver as he held the detective’s stare. He had never wavered before and he definitely wasn’t about to start now. But the stare down didn’t last long before Finn’s tough shell broke, his lips pulling back into a smile as he threw his arms out wide.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to know,” Finn grinned. “Was just pulling your leg, there was no way I wasn’t giving you my blessing to marry Little Benson, she would have throttled me.”

“Good to know that is the main reason,” Rafael muttered shaking his head.

“I mean of course I think you’re good for her as well,” Finn shrugged. “But she’s a Benson.”

“Little unsure if I should feel complimented or insulted by what that implies,” Olivia narrowed her eyes at Finn before deciding it wasn’t worth it. “I want all the details. Now.”

“Of course you do,” Rafael had resigned himself to this the moment he bought the ring.

“I was thinking, this Saturday I could take little Noah for an aunty/nephew sleep over, it’s been a while,” Liv stated as the two of you were getting your nails done. It was a little earlier than normal but Liv had insisted on changing your appointments to Friday instead of the Saturday two weeks from now. And Liv had insisted on choosing your nails, and for you to choose hers. You narrowed her eyes at your sister, tilting her head to the side before you looked at the calendar on the wall and saw the date.

“He’s proposing,” you didn’t even ask, you just stated.

“…damnnit,” Liv cursed. “I really thought I could have gotten this past you.”

“You might be the detective but I was raised by you,” you shrugged. “Plus, these nails are like fancy nails. Not to mention you and Amanda taking me shopping yesterday and insisting that I try on really pretty dresses and to get the one that is almost the exact shade of Rafael’s eyes. And tomorrow is the anniversary of when we first met.”

“I now understand why Rafael always says he hates detectives,” Olivia laughed shaking her head. “I didn’t realise you had picked so much up from me.”

“Yeah well,” you just shrugged again. “You were always my hero Liv, of course I wanted to be able to do what you do. Plus you did drill into me to be observant and then Finn even started teaching me recon shit.”

“Part of me wants to offer you a job but the other part of me definitely wants you to stay as far away from police work as possible,”

“As if I would take it anyway,” you rolled your eyes. “No offense but I like my job too much and I get paid really well. Plus I don’t get shot at so.”

“Yeah, yeah alright,” Liv grinned. “So, I get Noah on Saturday, and Sunday until lunch, then his dad gets him while, you and I go out for dinner and you tell me everything.”

“Liv, I don’t think you’re going to want to know everything,” you giggled, your heart fluttering in excitement. You may have been nonchalant when you stated what this was all about but truthfully you were nervous. Even knowing what Rafael had planned you had no idea how he was going to do it.

“You are a terror,” Liv rolled her eyes.

“Little sister’s prerogative,” you shrugged. “But yes, I agree, you can have Noah up until Sunday lunch, which we will all have together, and then you and I will have a dinner in? I doubt I will be up for going out.”

The two amazing women who always did yours and Liv’s nails both giggled at that.

“I remember when my husband proposed to me,” the one doing Liv’s nails sighed. “We didn’t leave our room for days.”

“Liv showed me the dress you will be wearing,” your technician grinned. “These nails will go beautifully with it.”

Liv had chosen a golden base for your nails, that simmered gently, with a pale green swirling pattern overlaying it. The pale green was almost a perfect match for your dress and Rafael’s eyes. You smiled softly holding your left hand up in-front of you, imagining the ring that will be sitting on your ring finger tomorrow night.

“Have you seen the ring?” you asked.

“I have,” Liv nodded. “It’s gorgeous and very you. Rafael did a good job choosing it. And that is all you get from me.”

You pouted a little but knew you would rather have that as a surprise. Since you technically ruined the surprise that he was proposing to you in the first place.

---

“Come on! We want to see,” Amanda sang as she held Noah on her hip, with Oliva beside her.

You stood in-front of the mirror in Olivia’s bedroom, brushing down the front of your dress. Amanda had volunteered to help do your make-up when Liv mentioned that you had worked out what was happening tonight, and she had done an amazing job. It was a beautiful subtle look that managed to empathise your cheekbones and bring focus to your eyes. Olivia had curled your hair and pinned the sides up, so nothing obscured your face.

“Alright, alright! I swear you are more excited than I am,” you laughed walking into the lounge room, blushing at the looks on the two women’s faces. “Is it too much? Will he know that I know?”

“You look beautiful,” Liv whispered her eyes tearing up a little.

“I don’t think he will care,” Amanda smiled. “Not when he sees you. What do you think little man?”

Noah cooed clapping his hands and reaching out for you. You allowed him to latch onto one of your fingers as your stepped forward to place a soft kiss against his chubby little cheek.

“I hope you have fun with your aunties tonight,” you smiled.

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Liv wrapped an arm around your waist holding you to her side. “Manda, Noah and I will have lot’s of fun tonight.”

“Though not as much fun as you,” Amanda wiggled her eyebrows. “He’ll be here any minute.”

You giggled, holding in the small squeal that wanted to escape when a knock sounded on the door.

“Make that any second,” Liv squeezed you before going to let the man of the hour in.

“Breathe,” Amanda whispered kissing you on the cheek as Rafael walked into view and you felt your air in your lungs leave you in a rush. He was wearing your favourite suit, which thankfully complimented your dress perfectly.

“Carino,” Rafael breathed. “You take my breathe from me.”

“Well, you two need to get going,” Liv started pushing the two of you towards the door when you failed to say anything in response. You couldn’t, you found for once you had no words. This was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with and tonight was the start of the next chapter of it.

---

“Rafael, this place is beautiful,” you whispered as the hostess led you to your table. Which was in a quiet corner, lit candles decorated it, and a bottle of expansive red wine was breathing next to a vase filled with peonies and lilac. Your favourite flowers.

“Tonight is a special night,” Rafael pressed a kiss to your temple as he helped you into your chair.

“The anniversary of our first date?” you asked tilting your head to the side as he poured glasses of wine.

“Exactly,” Rafael grinned, you could see the nerves that he hid behind that smile. You reached across the table and grabbed his hand squeezing it once, as a gentle smile pulled at your lips.

“You always spoil me Rafi,” you pulled your hand away to focus on the menu in-front of you. “You look especially handsome tonight. Amanda had to remind me to breathe.”

“Turn about is fair play,” Rafael teased. “Everyday I must remind myself to breathe, when I wake up with you in my arms, when you smile at me I feel the world stop.”

You felt your heart squeeze as your stomach fluttered before it stopped, contentment settling over your body as Rafael pulled a box out of his pocket.

“I was going to wait until dessert but I found I can’t,” Rafael chuckled, as he slid the box to the middle of the table. “Carino, everyday that we have been together has made my life better, happier and brighter. The day you told me you loved me I knew that I would know no better happiness, until you told me I was Noah’s father. You have given me a home, a family. I know that your love has made me a better man and I promise you that everyday I will be sure to be deserving of your love, of your heart and of our son. You are my heart, my soul and the very breathe in my lungs. I wish to wake with you in my arms every day. Carino, my love, will you marry me?”

Rafael opened the box as you tried to stop the tears that fell down your cheeks. Nestled in blue fabric was the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. It was also far from a traditional engagement ring but it showed that Rafael knew you. For you never wanted a traditional ring. It was a black band twisted around itself, with lines of silver and gold entwined along it. Three gems sat in the band, the middle one held above the others by the twisting of the band, wrapping securely by the gold and silver. It took you a moment to realise what the gems represented, and when you did your heart ached with love. They were your birthstones, Noah’s, Rafael’s and yours.

“Rafi,” you breathed holding out your left hand for Rafael, he lifted the ring from the box holding it just over your ring finger before he slowly slid it down. “Yes, always.”

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