#Law and Order One shot

[justanoasisimagines]

Hermosa

My my lovelies, I'm back with another love letter! My requests are currently open and you can find my request guidlines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

I want to thank you for being so patient with me as of late. It cannot be easy for you. The late hours at the office. Bringing my work home with me. You've put up with more than most would. Many would have left me by now, yet you have chosen to stay, and for that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. This leads me to my next point, I'm taking the entire weekend off. No work calls, no responding to emails. Nothing. I want to spend the entire weekend with you because the other day I was thinking I couldn't remember the last time we spent any quality time together. So this weekend me and you are going to a cabin in the woods which I've rented out. No interruptions. Time to catch up, and relax by the lake. I heard it has a beautiful view this time of year. I'm currently counting down the hours until our trip. Thank you for being so supportive and understanding Hermosa. All my love, Rafael x

[stefanmikaleson1864]

0802

Requested by the lovely @sirishavenigalla​

I Really hope you enjoy this and it was worth the wait !!! 

So you know the Jamie Whelan x Indian American reader, I was watching the episode had this idea that Aditya could Diya Laghari’s brother and the reader is engaged to him ( She’s on the verge of ending their engagement). They have their differences because being Indian American she supports Ukraine, she understands why India has to remain neutral from a political sense . She’s witness to the bombing and the fact Diya steals Equipment that’s dangerous . Not only is she roped in to this entire mess she has to face her Jamie her ex who still has feelings for her ( and is carrying around an engagement ring )and whom she still feelings for and oh the fact that pissed of and hurt when he find she’s engaged and the team hid it from him in worry that his feelings would compromise the case

Y/N’s POV 

Everything was just falling apart. You knew what you had to do you couldn’t just bring yourself to do it

. It was just another thing on your plate. It was filling up so fast that you couldn’t take anything off. Things with your fiance was on it’s last leg and you couldn’t bare to break it off. 

You just felt like a failure. Your previous relationship with Jame didn’t really work out. You always had feelings for him. But when things got real you backed out like you always do. It was just easier to back out before you got hurt. 

Then you meant Aditya and he was okay on paper. He a job and he was safe. You didn’t not have feelings for him. 

He was nice and he was comfortable but he just never gave you those feelings. That passion that made you feel alive. 

There was also the different in opinions. You wanted to do the right thing but he just never saw your way of thing.

 You understood the political side of staying neutral but you couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. 

Especially when it came to Diya. you knew he was stealing equipment and you knew it was going to end up in the wrong hands. People could get hurt and you pleaded with him to stand down. 

But he wouldn’t budge he just kept telling you to stay out of it. That’s what a women should do just stand behind her man and listen. God how did you ever let yourself this thing was safe. 

There was a bad feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t shake. You knew if something was going to happen it was going to happen soon.

But you had to do something. Sitting back and pretending like it wasn’t happening wasn’t any good with you anymore. 

So you had a meeting with the FBI today. You didn’t know how it was going to go but you had to at least try.

 You were nervous heading in thinking of all the different scenarios that could potentially happen. 

You walked out to the apartment and tried to push all the bad thoughts away. You didn’t need to convince yourself not to talk. 

You made your way to the car when there was suddenly a loud boom. It knocked you off your feet and you think you may have lost consciousness for a moment because things were black. When you opened up your eyes everything hurt.

Your ears were ringing and everything was blurry. There was screaming and some fire coming out of your car. It was hard to process everything that was going on. 

You tried your best to get up but a voice told you to stay put. 

“Hey hey be careful stay here” The man said. 

You ignored his request and you sat up sitting on the curb. 

“Who the hell are you” You asked not sure why you said it with a tone. 

“Detective Elliot Stabler Organized crime” He said 

“And what are you doing here detective” You asked. 

“Long Story Let’s go” He said. 

He helped you up and you almost instantly fell down because your knees were so shaky. He helped lift you back up and you leaned on him for help. He pulled you to a car and put you in the back. 

“Drive “ Was all he said. 

“What the hell is going on and you need to tell me where the hell your taking me” You said. 

“Okay calm down I’m not kidnapping you i’m taking you back to my office i guess you could call it” Stabler said 

“No okay I have somewhere I have to be” You said 

“The FBI you mean” He said 

“How do you know that” You asked getting upset he wasn’t giving you answers and he did in fact kidnap you. 

He didn’t say anything after that he just gave you a little laugh. You decided to drop it because in fact he was not going to give you any answers you were looking for. 

You all drove for a little bit before reaching your destination. Elliot got out and you followed right behind him. You were still hurt but the adrenaline was just taking over at this point.

You followed him into this building and you were looking around trying to figure out what the hell was going on. 

Everyone was just doing  their own thing there was a girl on the computer. And some people at a desk. When he yelled they all turned around to look at him and then saw me and gave me a surprised look when they saw me. 

“Hey what’s going on here” Some lady in a blazer and long braids asked. 

“Look i know it wasn’t the plan but i guess by now you heard about the bombing” Elliot said. 

“We just got word but still you had other options” She said

“We really don’t not anymore” Stabler said. 

“Why don’t we all stop and tell me what the hell is happening” You said getting angrier. 

“First off Ayanna Bell and this is Jet Slootmakers with Detecive Bobby Reyes” She said. 

“And you are  Diya Laghari’s fiance.” She said 

“Okay and” You said. 

“We been following your fiance  for the past couple months and that also means we’ve been following you” She said 

“Well does he have to do with me” You asked 

“We know your a good person who wants to do the right thing.” Bell said 

“We know you had a meeting with FBI but you can’t trust those guys okay. They always got someone in their pockets” Stabler said. 

You were about to say something when a way to familiar voice entered the room. 

“What the hell is going on” Jamie yelled 

You scrunched up your face and got tense. You had no idea what the hell he was even doing here. 

“Listen Jamie we need her” Sgt Bell Said. 

“No there’s gotta be another way.” He said 

“What ever the hell is happening put it aside we got a dangerous criminal with dangerous epuipment out there. She’s our only way of making sure no one else gets hurt” Stabler said. 

Jamie had now walked more into the room and he just kind of looked at you. He was upset you could tell. It had to be hard for him no doubt it was hard on you to. 

You gave him a soft look and when he took a moment to see how messed up you were he could see the worry in his eyes. 

“I’ll do it okay I wanna help I don’t want anyone getting hurt” You said softly to him. 

Jamie was about to say something then he just stopped and looked at your ring. You could see the hurt in his eyes. 

“I didn’t know you were” Jamie started 

“I thought you were watching me” You said to him giving him a confused look 

“We kept him out of it we knew about your guy’s past” SGT Bell said. 

“Makes sense” You said. 

“Excuse me” Jamie said. 

He walked out of the room 

“I’ll talk to him” Stabler said.

Something in you knew it had to be you. He wasn’t gonna listen to anyone else. 

“I got this” You said. 

You walked out the room and was tailing behind Jamie 

“Hey wait up” You yelled. 

He opened up the door and went outside. The door almost slammed in your face but you were able to grab it last minute. 

“Hey talk to me” You said 

Jamie turned around and gave you a hard look. One you only knew he had when was pissed. 

“What the hell” He asked

“Listen it’s a long story” You said

“Bullshit we only been broken up a year and half and now your already engaged to some other man.” Jamie said fuming. 

“We broke up I don’t have to follow your timeline on what you think should happen” You said yelling. 

“Now why don’t you address what this is really about” You said 

“Why him why the hell would you wanna be with someone like that” Jamie asked 

“I didn’t know he was like that okay not at first then i got in to deep and i’m trying okay I’m trying to get out” You said your voice breaking. 

Jamie softened up when he saw you like that. 

“Why didn’t you want to be with me anymore we had everything going for us” He asked. 

“I just had some stuff going on. Okay and it was just complicated” You said 

“Complicated for you not for me” Jamie said in a soft tone. 

You opened your mouth to say something when Stabler ruined the moment. 

“Guys sorry to break up this little lover moment but we got something” He said. 

You both just looked at each other and walked inside. Everyone was no gathered around Jet’s desk looking at their computer. 

“What’s going on” Jamie asked 

“We got word that  a bomb threat came in at the courthouse it looks like it could be legit” Jet said. 

“Makes sense Diya’s competition is on trial today. He was worried they might talk” You said 

“Were get bomb squad down there right away” Sgt Bell said. 

“I’ll go too if he’s there maybe I can help” You said 

“No its to dangerous” Jamie said 

“I can take care of myself” You said. 

“She’s right she could know something that might help us” Reyes said. 

“I’m going with her” Jamie said. 

“Yea” Sgt bell said just nodding to. She knew it would be a losing battle to say something.

They all knew he was still in love with you. Even if you did break his heart. 

“Let’s head out” Elliot said.

You all walked out and you and Jamie walked side by side together. You got in his car and it was just the two of you. 

“I’m sorry I really am” You said to him 

“I know” Was all Jamie could get out. 

He sped down to the courthouse as fast as he could. 

When you got there you could tell something was happening. Bomb Squad and Swat were there helping to evacuate people. You knew that something was already reported otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten their before Y’all. 

You and Jamie got out and you both walked over to a officer to see what was going on. 

“Detective Whelan what’s going on” He asked. 

“A court house reporter said they saw a suspicous looking package inside the courtroom.” The officer said. 

You knew what you had to do. Diya never showed you himself how the bombs worked but you were in enough rooms when they talked about it to figure it out. 

“I’m going in what courthouse number” You asked 

“What no way in hell” Jamie said grabbing your arm 

“I can help I’ve been in the room where these people talked about how they work” You said 

You looked at the officer again 

“Now tell me what room number is is” You asked 

“13 Ma’am” Was all the officer said. 

You ripped your arm away and ran in Jamie right behind you. You made you way to the courtroom your heart beating fast and legs shaking. 

“Hey right here” Jamie said 

You turned around and took a deep breath before heading in. 

You walked in and turned your head and saw the package. It looked familiar you knew it needed a combinnaiton to defuse it. 

You walked over to it and slowly opened up the box. Jamie was right behind you. 

“It needs a number combination to stop it” You said looking up at him. Your hands were shaking. 

He grabbed your hands and gave it a squeeze.

“You can do this I believe in you just think about it what numbers mean something to him” Jamie asked. 

“I don’t know he’s a weird guy maybe his birthday” You said 

“Nah come on think of something else” Jamie said. 

You looked at the timer it had 2 minutes and counting. 

“What about my birthday” You guessed. 

Jamie just looked at you and shook his head. 

The clock seemed like it was moving super fast. You were down to under a minute now. So you took a deep breath and thought of it. 

“HIs first business deal the one he closed on he talks about it all the time” You said yelling. 

“Yes yes” Jamie said 

Your hands shaking you put the numbers in. 0802

The numbers started going faster and Jamie lunged over and grabbed you close. You laid into them to afraid to speak or breath. 

The timer made a noise and your heart stopped beating. Preparing for the worst. 

After a minute when nothing happened you and Jamie both let go and looked at each other. You looked over at the bomb. It had stopped at exactly one second and you both took a giant breath of relief . 

You both looked at each other and started laughing and crying tears of joy. You didn’t even think about what happened next. 

You lunged and kissed him and he kissed you back hard. You smiled in his face and you could tell he was smiling back at you. 

After the kiss broke he looked at you with a face you hadn’t seen in a while. Happiness. 

You put your hand on his leg and looked at him confused when you felt a box.

“What is that” You asked.

Jamie just kind of put his head down and you could tell he was upset 

“Hey what is it” You asked 

He just reached into his pocked and pulled out a ring box. You let out a loud gasp and grabbed it out of his hands. 

“Is this what I think it is” You asked 

“I’ve been carrying it around this whole time” Jamie said looking up at you tears in his eyes. 

“Omg i had no idea why” You asked 

“ i didn’t wanna let you go” He said. 

You grabbed his hands  and gave them a squeeze. 

“I was scared of getting hurt. I love you so much and I was afraid of the risk Diya was safe or well I thought he was. You didn’t deserve that” You said 

“You didn’t say that in the past tense” Jamie said 

“Said what” You asked 

“I love you” He looked up and smiled at you. 

“That’s because I never stopped. “You said 

He smiled and leaned in and kissed you. You kissed him back softly the same butterflies coming back as they never left. 

“Well i hate to break this up but stop messing up my crime scene” Stabler said 

You both pulled apart laughing. He helped you up and you looked at Elliot 

“Sorry” You said 

“Yea yeah get going” He said smiling. 

You both walked out Jamie had thrown his hand over you. 

You walked out the courthouse and the fresh air never felt so good.  You looked down at your hands which were still shaking. 

You looked at the ring on it and pulled it off. You tossed it into the trash can.

Jamie saw and smiled and kissed the top of your head. 

“Good thing you got something better to replace it” He said 

“Hell yeah I do” You said 

No more taking it easy. Jamie was worth every risk possible. 

[detectivesvu]

Flirtatious Fate

Rafael Barba x Fem! Detective! Reader Tags: Near smut. Lots of flirting. Barba and Reader almost get caught. Sonny being a great advice giver. Word Count: 6.5k "And what if we are? Would that be such a bad thing?"

It wasn't at all uncommon for the counselor to work overtime.

Rafael more than likely worked more overtime hours than any of the attorneys in the whole building. He lived for his work, so it was no shock that it was nearly 8:00 o'clock and he was still buried in his work with no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. Most of the building had thinned out. All the people who were much better at maintaining a work-life balance had left hours ago - leaving Rafael as practically the only one left. Not that he minded, he could always work better alone.

But he didn't mind having some company. There were a few faces that he always was always welcome to and would always make time for...especially one in particular.

His attention was stolen away from his work when there was a knock on his open door, obviously indicating that someone was there to see him. Clearly, he wasn't the only one who pulled a lot of overtime hours.

He knew exactly who was at his door just by the specific sound of the knock. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did - and his heart fluttered at the knowledge of the person at his door.

Their relationship was complicated, although neither of them realized that the way they acted toward one another made things a gray area. They simply believe they were colleagues...friendly colleagues at best. Somehow, neither of them really realized that their dynamic came from a much more personal and emotional place.

Nonetheless, he was happy she was there...even though he didn't realize it.

"Come in, detective." He said, without even giving a glance up from what he was working on.

A genuine smile was on the detective's face at the sound of his invitation. She entered the room with a cup of coffee in each hand, her foot kicking the door closed behind her as she entered. She was alone in her entrance, and the fact that her partner wasn't with her let him know this wasn't a business visit.

“Counselor,” She greeted. “Do you have time for coffee and a chat?”

If there was any single person in the world who could outdrink Rafael Barba when it came to coffee - it was [Y/N]. She could drink coffee at any time of day and could put down at least four cups a day. That was one thing they shared - they worked a lot and ran on nothing much pure passion for their job and heavy amounts of caffeine.

Rafael looked at her then, curious and intrigued. He wondered where her partner was, considering she was still dressed in her work attire, which also let him know she wasn't done working for the day.

"Be my guest," He gestured to the chair opposite his desk, leaning back in his own seat knowing he was about to be distracted completely. "What brings you here?"

She approached him, handing him a hot latte that was fresh and just to his liking. As coffee connoisseurs, they had entertained plenty of coffee conversations in the past. He wasn't really at all shocked that she knew his preference in coffee. He watched her from over the rim of his cup as she sat down with her own drink, clearly very comfortable in his presence.

"Carisi is upstairs talking to someone, so I figured I'd stop by and say hello." She said casually, but the sparkle in her eye let him know she had come by for more than a quick greeting.

A small smirk appeared on his face when he caught that look in her eyes. He knew her too well. She was here for a bigger reason. They were always usually very to the point with each other. They saw no reason to waste time when she was here with a purpose.

"Is that so? You came all this way just to say 'hello' to me?" He asked, a hint of playfulness in his normally dry tone.

She shrugged, a knowing grin appearing on her face as she ran her finger absentmindedly around the lid of her cup.

"Well..." She began. "I might have something interesting to tell you."

Now this made more sense. The coffee, the late visit, the giddiness. She was here to gossip - a habit that she frequently and flat out denied that she ever took part in.

"Okay," He nodded, his smirk now turning more curious. "Don't keep me in suspense."

She set her coffee down on his desk, now sitting up completely straight as she used both her hands to talk. He knew she had something big if she was this focused.

"You know how I'm kind of friends with the secretary on the fifth floor of the precinct?" She asked, jogging his memory. "Remember how I was telling you she had been acting strange?"

Rafael's eyes darted around the room as he racked his brain. mentally sorting through hundreds, if not thousands, of conversations the two of them had shared until he placed it.

"Yeah, you said she was acting secretive or something like that." He remembered, albeit vaguely.

"Right! You know I'm not one to gossip," She said, and Rafael had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at that comment. "But she's pregnant!"

Let the records show, Rafael had never met this said secretary before. The only things he knew about her were things that [Y/N] had disclosed to him, but evidently she had shared just enough with him for him to be all in on this revelation.

"No way," He tilted his head. "How do you know?"

"She told me!" She remarked. "I really couldn't believe it. I knew something was different about her. I had to come tell you when I could because you were the only person who agreed with me that something was up."

His heart fluttered again at that. It was purely just convenience that had brought her to his office that night, but it still made him shudder to think she had reserved a conversation solely for him.

"It seems we were right then," He took another sip, his eyebrows knitting together when he realized something. "Didn't you tell me she was single?"

There was a brief silence as she only shared a certain look with him. Her silence answered his question completely.

"Ah, so that's the crux of it all," He said, figuring he might as well fully emerge himself in this gossip session. "So, I'm guessing you have information on who the father is?"

"No," She shook her head. "I'm still working on that one...but I have a few guesses."

"Let's hear them." He encouraged her.

Normally, it would've been so unusual for Rafael to engage in this kind of talk. He didn't rightly care what a stranger to him had going on in their personal life...but he didn't like them the way he liked the detective sitting pretty in front of him, genuinely enjoying conversing with him on any given day.

"The rumor on the fifth floor is that it's a cop over in narcotics..." She took a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. "But that said cop has been gone for nearly six months. I don’t think the math adds up.”

Rafael considered her statement, nodding in agreement and urging her to continue.

"My other guess is a bit far-fetched, but not unreasonable," She said. "A few weeks ago she went home to Chicago to visit her family, and I remember her mentioning to me that she was thinking about paying an old flame of hers a visit..."

"Oh, that's interesting...and certainly a possibility, I suppose." He replied. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, that's all I got," She shrugged. "I am being unfair. I shouldn't be making a conversation out of her business."

Rafael chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, we all indulge in a little nosy talk here and there." He said, feeling a pang of disappointment knowing this conversation was coming to an end.

“I know, I know. That’s really all I know," She reached for her coffee cup again. "But enough about me. How are things going here?”

He chuckled when she changed the subject, noticing her eyes lingering on his. He should've known she had something else locked and loaded.

"Things here are…as expected," he said, gesturing to the stacks of files on his desk. "Too many cases, too little time." He picked up his coffee, taking a sip before continuing. "But I always manage, one way or another."

“That you do, counselor.” She grinned. “This case has been a tough one…how are you holding up?”

He leaned back in his chair, a weary smile on his face.

"You know how it is." He said, and that was all he needed to say for her to completely understand.

"That I do," She sighed. "After all these years, I've never quite mastered dealing with everything we see."

"It's not easy, that's for sure," He said. "But I must say, you've handled yourself quite well in difficult situations, detective."

“I try my best,” She shrugged. “Some days I wonder if I should've stuck with my college job."

"Which was...?" He probed.

"Bartending," She confessed. "Also a stressful job, but nothing like doing police work."

This was new information to him. He actually didn't know that about her. He chuckled, imagining her in a bar apron, wiping down tables and listening to drunken rants.

"I could see that." He teased, a playful smile on his face. "But then we would be missing out on your skills as a detective."

She gave a small laugh, but didn't respond just yet. They sat in a comfortable silence, the conversation fizzling out before a new one blossomed.

"Maybe I need a vacation." She said in a way that seemed random, but this was usually how their conversations went. They would start on one topic and then end up somewhere completely different within minutes.

He took the opportunity to tease her, something that was also very common for their interactions.

"From SVU or from me?" He joked, the playful banter coming easy between them.

"Oh, never from you, Rafael." She matched his tone, his first name sliding off her tongue like it was something she said often.

He felt a brief flash of surprise when she used his first name, but he quickly recovered and played along with the banter.

"Careful, detective. That sounds almost affectionate." He teased.

She scoffed at that, an entertained smile on her face.

"We work for the law. We hardly have time to be affectionate in any regard." She said, and it was completely true.

"Yet here we are, two busy people making time for each other." He took a sip of his coffee, then looked at her with a more serious expression. "But you're right, it's not easy to balance work and personal life. Especially in our line of work."

“I can relate. Somehow you and my co-workers are the only people I really talk to,” She spoke, her voice soft. “Not…that I mind talking to you. Who else is going to tell you the neighborhood gossip?”

He smiled, genuinely flattered that she considered him one of her few friends.

"I must admit," he said, a hint of jest in his voice. "I do enjoy hearing your neighborhood gossip. It breaks up the monotony of the legal jargon."

“I imagine it does,” She returned a smile. “Maybe eventually we’ll figure out how to balance work and personal lives. Figure out how to do something other than work.”

Clearly they often toed the line between being professional, being casual, and being flirtatious. This was their norm. Everybody who knew them wouldn't even bat an eye at this conversation between them. But what Rafael said next would've raised a few brows. He wasn't sure what made him say it. Maybe it was the late hour or the moment just felt right, but he made a remark that couldn't have been confused as anything other than personal.

"Maybe we will. It's about time we started making time for ourselves." He paused, then said with a teasing smile. "And each other."

Her gaze fixed on him, her eyes slightly squinted as she smirked at him. She wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. Neither of them had ever crossed this line before. They were both aware that this was a new level of comfort with one another.

“Counselor, are you flirting with me?”

A sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he held her gaze.

"And if I was, detective?" He retorted.

“Mark me as surprised,” She said. “But flattered.”

They were both confident people...stubborn at times too. There would be no backing down from this. He chuckled, enjoying the back and forth banter. He leaned a bit closer in his chair, his smile growing wider.

"Is that so? You're not going to accuse me of being unprofessional?"

“That would make me a hypocrite. Me waltzing in here and gossiping about my coworker is unprofessional,” She leaned forward. “I consider this a flirtatious and pleasant conversation.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her words. He leaned closer as well, his voice a little lower now.

"Just a pleasant conversation, hm? You're not going to tell your other coworkers about this little chat?"

This situation was turning and it was turning fast. It had gone from casual to playful, and now they were trodding in a territory they had never ventured to before. This was different, but neither were backing down.

“Not at all, Counselor, if the thought of someone knowing bothers you so much.” She stood from her chair, eyes locked on him.

His smirk grew wider as she stood up, his eyes never leaving hers.

"It doesn't bother me at all." He assured her, rising to his feet as well. He moved around the desk, closing the distance between them. "In fact, I quite enjoy these little chats of ours."

“If we aren’t careful, we might become the precinct gossip.” She looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

He chuckled, finding the idea of being the source of gossip in the precinct strangely amusing. He took a step closer, his voice a low murmur as he spoke.

"And what if we are? Would that be such a bad thing?"

“Well, I would be getting a taste of my own medicine I suppose,” She said, realizing their noses were nearly touching. “Amongst other things.”

He let out a soft exhale, feeling his heart rate quicken at her close proximity. The air between them felt electrified.

"And those other things would be?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Whatever you suggest we do to ‘make time for each other’?” She said smoothly. “What did you have in mind?”

He chuckled, his gaze locked with hers. He reached out with a slow, tentative hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The feel of her skin under his fingers sent a shiver down his spine.

"I have plenty of ideas," he said, his voice low and filled with promise, "but we should probably discuss them somewhere more… private."

“Are you thinking private thoughts, Counselor?” She replied.

He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"What do you think, detective?" His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle line along her jawline. The proximity was intoxicating, and he couldn’t resist the urge to toy with her a bit more.

“I’m thinking a couple of drinks over dinner,” She said, her voice supple and sultry. “Dessert at my place.”

He chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire at her words. He lifted his other hand, gently cupping her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. He leaned even closer, his lips grazing against her ear as he whispered.

"Sounds like a perfect plan."

“Don’t you want to know what you’ll be having for dessert?” She asked, her control getting close to wobbling.

His lips curled into a sinful smile, the double meaning behind her words and the shiver in her voice were all the invitation he needed. He moved even closer, his breath hot against her ear, his voice huskier than before.

"Show me, detective. I’m absolutely starving."

She smiled an awfully sultry grin, her teeth toying with her bottom lip as she whispered.

“You’re looking at it.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of restraint and desire, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He was losing control, his hands gripping her face a bit tighter now.

"Careful, detective. If you keep talking like that, I'll have you right now on this desk."

Fire was burning between them. Their minds were racing and hearts were pounding with the knowledge of where this was going. Neither cared to try and figure out how this was happening so fast. Neither of them needed to. They just knew something between them was mutual and it was coming out in full force.

He backed her into the desk, the backs of her thighs pressed against the edge of the desk. Her hands came to start working on getting his tie off, his hands planted high on her thighs underneath her skirt. Her lips brushed against his as her breathing became heavy, the two of them mere milliseconds from going at it when there was a knock on his office door and it creaked open.

Both Rafael and the detective froze, the moment shattered by the intrusion. Rafael took a moment to compose himself, his face flushing with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as he attempted to conceal the fact that they had been just seconds away from being intimate on his desk.

He cleared his throat and took a few steps back, allowing some space between them. They both were quick to readjust themselves, totally coming back to reality of what just almost happened. Her heart was hammering away in her chest, her cheeks tinted pink as she adjusted her skirt. The intruder was none other than her detective partner, Sonny Carisi, who was blissfully unaware that he was just barely seconds away from walking in on his partner and his squad's counselor going at it.

Sonny stepped into the office, his expression serious. However, he hadn’t yet noticed the tense atmosphere in the room or the telltale signs of intimacy that were still evident on Rafael and the detective’s faces. He approached Rafael, his eyes fixed on the district attorney.

"Counselor...we have an issue with one of the witnesses in the case. Can I have a word?"

She was trying to hold her composure, acting like she wasn’t just about to get down and dirty with the counselor. Rafael took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself. The interruption had cooled the heat between them a bit, but the tension in the room was still palpable. He cleared his throat and addressed Sonny, his voice slightly strained as he tried to keep it together.

"Yeah...w-what's the issue with the witness?"

She could hardly stand to be in the room anymore. She was having a hard time processing how an innocent conversation turned so hot so quickly. Rafael had never expressed that kind of feeling with her. They had never gotten that close before. Sure, they faintly flirted, but never so outright before. She was overwhelmed, and now she felt like she needed some air.

“Sonny, you finish up here,” She said, her voice a bit shaky from the adrenaline. “I’m…I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Sonny's eyes flicked between Barba and the detective, sensing that there was more going on than he was aware of. He was puzzled by her shaky voice, and something about the tension in the room felt odd, but he didn’t have time to question it. As the detective made her way out of the room, Rafael's gaze followed her, a mixture of disappointment and concern etched on his face as she left.

Rafael had never shared that kind of moment with her. To be honest, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. Sure, he liked her and favored her, but he had never made a move on her before. But in all fairness, she had never reciprocated quite like that.

Rafael couldn’t deny that the moment with her had been explosive, a spark igniting between them that he hadn’t expected. He had always liked her, but this was a whole different level of attraction. Her response to him had triggered a deep, intense desire that he couldn’t ignore. As Sonny continued to talk, Rafael struggled to focus on the conversation, his mind going back to the moment they had shared just moments before.

He just wanted to help Sonny and get him out of his office so he could handle this. But of course, Sonny always needed to know everything.

“Is…everything alright between you and her, Counselor?”

Rafael flinched, snapped out of his thoughts by Sonny's question. He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat, trying to hide his preoccupation.

"Yeah, everything's just fine, Carisi," he said, his tone a little guarded. "Why do you ask?"

“I’ve never seen her run out like that. Especially when you’re around,” Sonny remarked.

Rafael shifted uneasily in his chair as he sat down, the observation not being lost on him. He tried to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

"I suppose she just had something to take care of. She seemed… in a hurry." He said, his words sounding unconvincing even to him.

Sonny didn’t believe him. He knew his partner, and he could tell when someone was lying. Something had happened in this office before he came in.

Rafael realized that Sonny wasn’t buying his response, and he silently cursed himself for not being more convincing. The air in the room felt heavy, and he knew he had to change the subject or risk further questioning.

"Is there anything else you needed to discuss regarding the case, Detective Carisi?" Rafael asked, trying to sound as impassive as possible.

Sonny caught the way Rafael changed the subject. He wasn’t getting anything from Rafael, so he decided to try his partner, who was downstairs waiting for him.

“No...alright…” Sonny said. “We’ll…we’ll be in touch.”

Rafael nodded, a slight look of relief on his face as Sonny seemed to accept the change in topic. As Sonny turned to leave, Rafael couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry about what might happen once he spoke to the detective.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but his mind was still buzzing from the encounter that had just taken place, and the uncertainty of what would happen next gnawed at him. Sonny wasted no time getting to the elevator, taking it to the ground floor. Sure enough, she was standing just outside on the sidewalk, her hand resting over her chest as she took slow deep breaths of the cold New York air.

She let the cold air of New York City fill her lungs, the chill helping to clear her mind. She tried to steady her rapid heartbeat, still shaken by the intensity of the moment she and Rafael had shared. The thought of what might have happened if Sonny hadn’t walked in sent a shudder down her spine. What was she thinking?

She was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn’t notice Sonny approaching until he was standing beside her.

“Sonny.” She nearly gasped, her heart lurching in surprise.

Sonny chuckled at her reaction and raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on his face.

"Whoa, easy there. You almost jumped out of your skin." he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m sorry, you scared me.” She sighed. “Are you ready to go?” She gestured toward the SVU car they had taken.

Sonny nodded, and as they headed toward the car, he shot her a sideways glance, curious about what had just transpired upstairs.

He wasn’t a detective for nothing, and he could sense that there was more to the story. Something was off, especially given her demeanor and the flushed look on her face.

She slid into the passenger seat, feeling a bit less shaky now that she had a few minutes to calm down. Her mind was still reeling, but she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out anymore.

Sonny walked around the car and got behind the wheel, his gaze flickering to her every now and then. As they started driving, he decided to go for it and ask the question that had been on his mind since he walked in on his partner and the Counselor.

"So, what was that all about? You left his office looking like you’d seen a ghost." He said.

She took a subtle deep breath, trying to center herself for a round of questioning that was no doubt coming.

“It was nothing really,” She responded as coolly as possible. “I’m just tired, I think. I just needed a second to gather myself.”

Sonny gave her a skeptical look, her response only adding to his suspicion. She was obviously trying to brush it off, but he was not convinced.

"Come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday," he said, his tone laced with mild irritation. "Something happened up there."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” She said, reaching for her phone that vibrated in her pocket.

As she checked her phone, Sonny gave her a knowing look. He could sense that she was dodging the question, and it only fueled his suspicion further.

"Oh, really? Then why won’t you look me in the eye?" he asked, his voice a bit challenging now. "Who’s sending you text messages, huh? The Counselor?”

Her heart dropped, because despite the fact that Sonny’s question was a joke — he was right. She stared at the text message that had just come in from Rafael.

A sly smile crept onto Sonny's face as he spotted the change in her expression, a clear indication that he hit a sore spot.

"Bingo," he said, his tone dripping with smugness. "That’s what I thought. What did he say?"

Sonny glanced at her, his curiosity piqued. He could tell she was reading a text message, but he couldn’t see what it said.

"So, are you planning to share that text with me, or are you just going to keep me in suspense?" he said, his voice filled with playful annoyance.

She didn't even really mean to, but she read the text out loud for herself and Sonny to hear.

Call me when you can. Please.

Sonny raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. He couldn’t help but feel a little amused by the situation.

"‘Please?’" he repeated, a hint of mockery in his voice. "Sounds like the counselor is desperate to talk to you."

Sonny had her cornered, and she knew it. There was no getting anything past Sonny, especially since they worked so closely every single day.

“Sonny..." She whined, knowing he was more on to her than she realized.

Sonny chuckled at her response, thoroughly enjoying the teasing. He knew he had her now.

"Come on," he said, feigning innocence. "Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching."

“Now I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” She huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sonny took his eyes off the road for a moment to shoot her a sidelong glance, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Oh, please. You really think you’re discreet?" he said. "The tension between you two is so thick, a blind man could see it."

She rubbed her eyes stressfully, unsure of how to respond to Sonny, and even more unsure of how to proceed with Rafael. Seeing her stressed out, Sonny’s playful tone softened slightly. While he enjoyed teasing her, he could see that the situation was weighing on her.

"Hey, relax," he said, throwing her a gentle smile. "It’s just me, alright? You can talk to me, you know?"

“No, I can’t…” She sighed. “Not about this.”

Sonny’s smile faded slightly at her response. He could tell that whatever had happened in Rafael’s office was more serious than he initially thought. It wasn’t just some harmless flirtation between her and the district attorney. He cleared his throat and spoke with a more serious tone now.

"Why not? Come on. You and I have been friends for a long time, haven’t we? You can trust me."

“I trust you,” She said. “It’s not that, it’s just…complicated.”

Sonny furrowed his brow, his interest piqued even further. The way she said ‘complicated’ made it clear that there was more to this than he initially thought. He knew there was something she was holding back, but he wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

"Complicated, huh? In what way?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with genuine curiosity.

At this point, she knew Sonny wasn’t going to let this go. Sonny could keep a secret better than anyone, so she figured she might as well give it up. She told him the story, leaving out a few graphic details, but she told him enough for him to get the picture.

Sonny listened intently as she spoke, his expression stoic as he absorbed the details of what had transpired between her and Rafael. He didn’t say a word as she recounted the encounter, his gaze steady on the road ahead of them.

When she finished her story, he was silent for a moment, considering everything that had been said. Then, he spoke up, keeping his voice neutral.

"So, let me get this straight. You and the Counselor got hot and heavy in his office, but things got interrupted, and now you don’t know what to do next?"

“That about sums it up,” She sighed again. “If we had gone all the way…I don’t even know. I don’t know where to go from here and I don’t know if I can ever work with him again…”

Sonny exhaled softly, his jaw tensing slightly. He hadn’t been expecting it to be that serious. He could sense the internal struggle she was having and understood her confusion. He knew it wasn’t easy, juggling personal feelings and professional responsibilities.

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on," he said, trying to get a grip on the situation. "First of all, it didn’t go that far. Nothing…happened, right?"

“It was close,” She admitted. “But no. Sonny, Olivia will kill me if she finds out. She would flip if she found out I got cozy with the counselor…”

Sonny nodded slowly, processing her words. The fact that she was worried about Olivia’s reaction spoke volumes about how seriously she was taking this. He respected her devotion to the job, and he knew how highly her superiors thought of her.

"Okay, first of all, Olivia’s not going to ‘kill’ you. Besides, this isn’t exactly the first time a relationship has happened between coworkers."

“Yeah, but it’s different. It’s…me. You know how she is with me. I’m the youngest on the squad,” She took a deep breath. “If she knew Rafael made a move on me…”

Sonny could see the weight of the situation pressing heavily on her. He understood her concerns.

"I get that you don’t want to disappoint her," he said in a reassuring tone. "The thing is, this whole thing with Barba…you didn’t exactly pursue him, right? He’s the one who made a move. And as far as I can tell, it sounds like it was completely out of the blue for you."

“It…wasn’t really out of the blue,” She confessed. “I mean, I didn’t go in there expecting what happened but…like you said we’re pretty…flirtatious. And I didn’t push him away.”

Sonny chuckled slightly at her confirmation that she hadn’t exactly shut down whatever had been going on between her and the Counselor. He knew they’d had a spark.

“So, let me get this straight: you and Barba have been flirty with each other for a while, and eventually, things got heated in his office. Is that about right?”

Sonny nodded when she confirmed it, the situation starting to make more sense to him now.

"And now you don’t know what to do because you’re worried about your job, your relationship with Olivia, and whatever might happen next with Barba?”

“Right,” She replied. “It happened so fast…I don’t know how I got here.”

Sonny chuckled softly as he listened to her concerns.

"You got here, because you and Barba have chemistry," he said bluntly. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

“I don’t know what to do about it,” She read the text from Barba again. “How do you even move forward from something like this?”

Sonny shot her a sympathetic glance, understanding her anxiety.

"Hey, it sounds like you’re feeling a bit out of your comfort zone here, and that’s alright." He said reassuringly. "You’re usually more reserved, and this situation’s a bit more intense than you’re used to. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It could mean that something about Barba really does it for you."

“Yeah, I could’ve told you that. I guess I need to respond,” She stared at her phone. "He wants me to call him later. So he will probably reject me and tell me it was a mistake and it never should’ve happened and then things will be awkward and then I’ll have to leave SVU and then I’m back to making traffic stops-��

Sonny reached over and grabbed her arm firmly, stopping her mid-rant. He chuckled slightly at her panicked ramblings.

"Slow down there," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Take a deep breath. You're getting way ahead of yourself."

“Maybe…” A smile appeared on her face without realizing it. “I’ll just…tell him I’ll call him when I can.”

Sonny chuckled along with her, enjoying the lighter tone of the conversation. He was glad to see that his teasing had lifted her spirits, at least a little bit.

"Hey, you never know," He said with a shrug and a smirk. "Stranger things have happened. Maybe Barba’s completely smitten with you and can’t wait to see you again."

“Alright, alright…” She replied. “One step at a time. Let’s finish this workday.”

Sonny chuckled at her response, sensing her determination to get through the last couple hours of their long workday and not let the situation with Barba consume her. He nodded in agreement.

"You got it," he said, his tone back to business. "I've got your back, no matter what happens next."

___

They returned to the precinct, tying up their loose ends for the day so they could get the day finished. She tried to put Rafael in the back of her mind. She just needed to get through her shift and then go from there. She hoped she would feel better once she and Rafael talked, no matter what the outcome was.

Sonny shot a few glances at her, sensing her attempt to keep her mind off the situation with the Counselor. He knew she was struggling to focus on work when her mind was preoccupied.

As the day came to an end, Sonny casually looked down at his watch and spoke up.

"You know, we're just about done for the day. You…uh…have plans for the rest of the night?"

She gave him a look.

“I’m going to call him as soon as I leave,” She said. “If he’s still at his office, I might swing by.”

Sonny gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

"You're gonna handle this, one way or another." he said, his voice firm and steady.

“Okay,” She nodded. “I’ll text you when it’s over.”

Sonny waved her goodbye, and she didn't waste any time getting out of the precinct. She dialed Rafael's number on the way out of the building.

The phone rang a few times before the familiar voice of Rafael Barba answered on the other end.

“Hey.” His tone was calm and composed.

“Counselor.” She greeted as calmly as she could.

There was a hint of surprise and relief in Rafael's voice as he recognized her on the other end of the line. He had been hoping she would call.

"I wasn’t sure if you’d call." He said plainly.

“Of course I did,” She let out a silent sigh. “Are you…still at your office?”

There was a slight pause before Rafael responded, the anticipation heavy in his voice.

"Yes," he replied. "Do you…want to come by?"

Her heart fluttered, there really was no turning back.

“Yeah, I figured I would come by so…we could talk. I can be there in 20 minutes…”

They sorted out the details before the call ended, and she knew this was going to either be a pleasant or brutal talk. She knew she might be losing one of her best friends by the end of the night. She had never felt more unsure, but she couldn't even deny that maybe she was curious to see how this developed...if it developed at all.

Her mind raced as she made her way to Rafael's office. She thought of every possible outcome in this scenario...the best case, the worst case, and everything in between. She felt the knot of anxiety in her stomach getting heavier by the minute. She laid eyes on her destination and knew it was now or ever. She needed to compose herself and pull it together. She wanted to walk out of this situation with him still an important part of her life.

The building was closed down for the night, all the offices dark and closed...except for his. It was now or never. If there was ever a moment where she felt like she was about to seal her fate...it was right now.

She took the elevator to the floor of his office, her brain actively controlling her breathing to be as calm and slow as possible. Her heart was pounding away, and she wasn't sure if it was the nerves or the knowledge of seeing him again after what had happened.

His office door was closed, but a glow of light was shining from behind the closed blinds on his windows and under the door. She gave a light knock on the door, a slow exhale escaping her as she waited for him to answer.

She heard some shuffling from behind the door, knowing he was undoubtedly trying to quickly straighten up his desk before he allowed her inside. A few seconds passed before he opened the door -- his tired eyes meeting hers with the same look of anxiety and curiosity of what was about to happen. There was no turning back now, and they both felt like they were prepared.

But little did they know, their night was about to get far more interesting than they planned for.

—

Part 2 !

[storiesofsvu]

Love You Always

Rafael Barba x reader warnings: language maybe? it's pure fluff y'all. This was a request that I took a little bit of a spin on but the end result is the same and the prompt still fits and works lol Quick reminder: as Barba has over 50 ppl on his taglist and that is tumblr's max, if you do not interact with this/other barba post you will be removed for someone who is on the wait list who actually does want to read and interact.

When you’d made the move from a small town in Pennsylvania out to New York you really had no idea what was in store for you. Getting the opportunity to live in the city was a huge enough thrill on its own, delicious food, incredible night life, easy enough to get around and a plethora of places to meet people. Work was consistent, busy enough to keep you stimulated and making money but never overwhelming, you always had weekends off and were reminded you never had to take work home unless you really wanted to.

The level of freedom you felt was an incredibly good thing, especially considering your boyfriend seemed to never stop working. You were free to swing by on your lunch, making sure he ate something other than chocolate covered espresso beans and would happily be the one to drag him out of the office at the end of a long day. Though you had no complaints about the matter, you loved him no matter what and knew that what he did was important, not to mention incredibly admirable.

The two of you had moved in together a couple of years ago, a nice two bedroom apartment smack in the middle of your commutes. Rafael had turned the second bedroom into a home office but hadn’t completely taken it over, leaving half of it for you to outfit however you’d like. He never wanted it to just be his space, wanted to make sure you always felt welcomed and wanted even if the most you normally did was curl up with a book in the arm chair beside his desk. He utterly adored having you around, the quality time beside another human was more than enough for both of you, you were able to communicate without words by now. There were moments where Rafael wouldn’t even realize he’d been letting his work stress him out until your gentle hands were on his shoulders, massaging out the knots. There were other moments where you were so sucked into your novel you had no idea how much time had gone by until he was pressing a kiss to the top of your head, mentioning you’d both missed dinner.

There had been talks of the future of course, some of them happening before you bought the apartment, making sure you were making the right investment, but there had never really been a talk about marriage. You’d talked about where in the city you wanted to live, decided on kids or no kids, if you wanted to stay in the same career path, what you’d like to do after retiring and while you knew you were in each other’s stories, a ring never came up. You loved your romantic movies and Rafael knew that, often watching them with you, a small smile on his face as you tried to hide your happy tears or blamed your sniffling on allergies. He knew you were a hopeless romantic and did his best on a regular basis to show you how much he loved you, flowers, treats, fancy date nights and the like.

The first time marriage truly came up was when you were out for dinner and witnessed a very public proposal that you immediately turned your nose up at. Rafael raised a brow and you let out a small laugh, explaining that not only were they incredibly tacky, nearly forcing the person answering to say yes, but this one in particular was going to end in a fight once they were home. Never ask a question like that if you don’t know the definite answer. On the other end of the spectrum, the two of you had a fantastic date night and you were certain it ended better than the not so happy couple.

The second time it technically came up Rafael was coming home entirely too late and while you didn’t have particular plans, you had happened to fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. He felt a pang of guilt wash through him when he found you, half full glass of wine on the coffee table with an empty one meant for him. When he woke you up to get you to bed he apologized, promising that it wouldn’t happen again. You let out a soft giggle, still half asleep and mentioned something about it not being a problem, you knew you were his side chick, he was married to his job after all, it was his wife and you were okay with that.

The third time it came up when your cousin’s wedding invitation came in the mail and you asked if he wanted to come with you. He laughed, saying of course he did and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, he was your plus one forever after all. You returned the laugh, letting him know it was back in Pennsylvania, it would be a minimum of a three day trip out there, you’d have to leave midday Friday and likely return late on Sunday, if not Monday. He simply shrugged, saying he’d make absolutely sure that his schedule was cleared, this was something that was important to you and he didn’t want to miss any of those.

Rafael had been expecting the usual wedding festivities, friends new and old reuniting between a couple of smaller hotels or bars around the town. Some whom had kept in touch, some who hadn’t spoken since graduation. There was plenty of catching up, questions asked and answered about careers, families, kids. He was prepared for all of that, prepared to whisk you away the second anyone started nagging a little too hard about getting married or starting a family of your own. Instead he was met with you laughing, winding your arm in his and saying that the two of you were your own family.

What he definitely wasn’t expecting was to be hit with a brick wall of emotions when the actual wedding started. Everything was so incredibly beautiful, the church lit up perfectly, stunning bridesmaids dresses that correlated with the groomsmen pocket squares, ties and socks. The flower arrangements were gorgeous, the music matched the vibe immaculately, every single detail you could imagine was well thought through and executed amazingly. His hand in yours as the ceremony started, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as the bride stepped into the room and he knew you would be teary eyed in a matter of seconds.

He couldn’t help but watch you throughout the ceremony, a small smile on his face, one that you caught and smiled back to every time you looked over at him. You loved love, and you loved him and that made him feel so incredibly warm inside, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your eyes glistened in the sunlight, a glimmering of happy tears in them as the couple began their vows and it became very obvious you weren’t the only hopeless romantic in the room. They told stories of their childhood, how they’d been best friends at such a young age, how through time they had went their different ways but always seemed to find their way back to each other. How they’d gone to different colleges, lived on opposite sides of the country and even when they didn’t stay in touch, life had a way to keep their invisible string intact. How she’d been smitten from the moment they reconnected, how he surprised her on their first anniversary with a plot of land where she’d always dreamed of living, and how he was going to build their dream home. How much they meant to each other, that they wanted to spend the rest of their days and then some together, how much they believed in destiny and how thankful they were that they were brought back together and realized what true love was because it was so often sitting right in front of your nose.

Rafael didn’t think he was a sap, but the misting in his eyes would prove otherwise.

The way your hand was softly squeezing at his thigh whenever something particularly romantic or emotional certainly wasn’t helping either. And the look of complete love, awe, hope and longing reflecting from your eyes was enough to drive him wild. He found his heart beating faster in his chest, butterflies racing in his stomach, he wanted to be the one on the receiving end of that kind of a look. He was utterly lost in his romantic thoughts until the couple kissed, the church erupting in applause and you were tugging him to stand, cheering to celebrate their new union.

He managed to keep his cool throughout dinner, though he got a little misty eyed when the speeches started. Out of pure instinct you were cuddled into his side, the more intimate and loving the stories and speeches got, the closer the two of you got to each other. There was nothing either of you wanted than to be with each other and this celebration of love was solidifying it.

The two of you were up on the dance floor, encouraging your nieces and nephews to burn off all the sugar from the cake dancing around as wildly as they could before having to leave. A slow song started and you thought for a moment you were leaving the dance floor until Rafael grabbed your hand, a sparkle in his eye as he twirled you under his arm and then his other hand slid around your waist, leading you in a slow rhythm around the dance floor. A blooming of happiness started in your chest as your cheek rested next to his, small smile on both of your cheeks as you danced.

“You’ve been quiet,” you murmured, “not having any fun?”

“Quite the opposite.” He chuckled, his lips brushing your cheek.

“Then what’s going on in that brain of yours, hmm?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” You asked, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“You.” He replied, his hand rubbing at the small of your back, “love. This.” You felt his hand come off your back, gesturing to the room, “How beautiful it is. How beautiful you are. How happy I am with you, and that I want that kind of happiness forever. That I want this. With you.”

“Careful Rafael, this is starting to sound like a proposal.” You teased from your spot on his shoulder, feeling his chest rumble as he chuckled.

“Never. That would be incredibly inappropriate, I’m not one to steal someone’s moment.”

“Sure.” You laughed and he playfully rolled your eyes as you lifted your head up. The hand he had holding yours moved to cup your face as you stepped even closer together. His eyes gazed into yours with nothing but absolute adoration.

“But believe me when I say this, I’m going to marry you one day and one day soon.” His thumb brushed over your cheek and you felt a dopey smile take over your lips, “our own special day where I get to tell everyone just how much I love you, how I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, how you deserve the entire world and I got so incredibly lucky because you chose me.”

“And I would a million times over.” Leaning in you pressed your lips to his, a small sigh relaxing both of you into the kiss as you continued to sway. Your cheek came to rest against his once more, his hand briefly cupping the back of your head before moving back to your waist. “Because I love you Rafael, more than anyone in the world. I’m lucky to have you to love.”

“I love you too.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, continuing to guide you around the dance floor until the song came to an end. For the third time today he found a misting of happy tears in his eyes, the same ones reflecting in yours except this time it was because of your own love, your own little secret that no one else in the room knew quite yet. That not only did you have a future together but he was going to be able to call you his wife, and that meant the entire world to him.

____________

@fandom-princess-forevermore @bisexualcrowley @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @averyhotchner @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @prurientpuddlejumper @letsdisneythings @neely1177 @mrsrafaelbarba @lv7867 @bisexual-dreamer02 @skittle479 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @altsvu @svulife-rl @caracalwithchips @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @darkheart-brightsmile @australiancarisi @tinyboxxtink @ex-uallyactive @lawandorderuswnt @lustvolle-liebe @sia2raw @narvaldetierra @dxtery @lannister-slings-and-arrows @poisonedcrowns @anlin2058 @xoxabs88xox @momlifebehard @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @godard-muse @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @dextur @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @valentinesfrog @silversprings-mp3 @wittygutsy @gamma-rae-bursts @int4n @just-moondust @deanwinchestersgirl87 @bubbleswrld

[naturesapphic]

I’d love an angst/comfort filled Olivia Benson x reader if you’re willing!

Olivia pulls reader into her office after noticing she’s been a little off, distant and disengaged with the rest of the squad. Reader reluctantly opens up on an incident from a couple of days prior, at a school reunion. (Incident being someone made unwanted advancement at reader, groping her and making her touch them.) She tells Olivia nothing more happened because she finally broke free and left. She starts crying from all the overwhelming emotions and Olivia reminds her she did nothing wrong and is there for her.

High School Reunion

Olivia benson x fem!reader

Warnings: groping, little bit of SA, Olivia being a protective sweetheart

Olivia knows you. Too well to be exact. You are her best detective and her partner. She knows you inside and out and knows that something isn’t right. You’ve been distant and quiet from everyone, especially her. She wants to give you your space but ever since you’ve been back from your high school reunion it’s been like you’ve completely changed into a different person. “Y/n? Can you come inside my office for a second please?” She called out for you.

You slowly got up from your desk and walked over to her. She gave you a loving look and helped you inside as she shut the door. She motioned for you to sit on the couch and she followed behind, sitting close to you but not too close since she wants to give you some space. “What’s been going on? You’ve been distracted and barley been focusing. You know you can tell me anything.” She gently asked you and your eyes fill up with tears. You didn’t mean for all this to happen. You were trying to stay normal about it but of course your boss/girlfriend would know something was up.

She’s a captain and before that she was a detective! You couldn’t hide anything from her. Olivia noticed how your eyes filled up with tears and she felt her heart drop. She didn’t understand what happened but she was going to figure out soon. “You know you can tell me anything y/n/n…” she said as she gently grabs your hands in hers and gives you a reassuring look. You take a deep breath in and you start to tell her what happened.

~ flashback ~

Today you were going to your high school reunion. You let liv know about where you were going as she let you get off work since there was no new cases to worry about. You were a bit hesitant to go without her but you knew she had a bunch of paperwork to do so hopefully in the next one she could make it.

Walking into your old high school felt so weird. You couldn’t believe ten years has past by so quickly but at the same time you could. You saw some of your old classmates and friends and went over to them to mingle. After awhile you felt a presence staring at you from afar. You turned around and saw that a boy from your school was eyeing you up and down.

You knew that years ago that he had a big crush on you but he never made any attempts to do anything about it but honestly you were glad he didn’t. You always got a bad feeling from him and you still do now. Feeling uncomfortable, you tell your friends you are going to head to the bathroom right quick. You head inside the ladies room and splash some water on your face.

You hear the bathroom door open and assume it’s one of your friends checking on you but it’s the boy from earlier. You felt your whole body freeze up as he comes closer. You can see him talking but you don’t hear anything besides the beating of your own heart thumping in your ears. He comes up behind you and starts groping your everywhere and make unwanted advances and movements towards you.

You felt so disgusted but yet your body still wouldn’t let you move. You felt his hand grab yours and you look down to where he was going and your eyes widen. You snatched your hand away and turn around to slam your foot against his balls. He screams out and falls to his knees, grabbing his area while you flee out of the bathroom.

You didn’t tell your friends or teachers goodbye as you run out of there as fast as you could. What would the squad think of you? What would Olivia think? Will she leave you? You couldn’t think straight as you ran towards your car and drive home.

~ flashback over ~

“Nothing more happened before I broke free, but that’s what happened…I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner!” You say as you start crying hysterically. Olivia pulls you into her strong comforting arms and holds you close. “Hey hey shhhh…you did nothing wrong babygirl…I’m so proud of you.” Olivia whispers against your ear. “You have nothing to be ashamed about princess…” she spoke again and you nod against her as your cries turn into little sniffles.

You raise your head up and look into her eyes. She flashes you a small but reassuring smile that everything will be alright. Finn opens the door and his eyes widens at the scene of your red teary face and the look of anger in Olivia’s eyes. “Everything alright?” Finn asks as he looks between the two of you. “We’re fine. Just another case we have to do.” Olivia states as she pulls you closer to her side and gives Finn a little nod that he understands and recuperates.

Finn closes the door and Olivia puts her attention and focus back on you. “We are going to find and get this guy I promise my love. No one hurts you and gets away with it.” She says with a hint of sternness in her voice but not directed towards you. Never. You nod and snuggle in closer to her, you knew that y’all have loads of paperwork to do but those will be done later. Right now, Olivia will hold you however long you want. She will always be there for you, every step of the way.

A/n: thank you for this request anon and I hope you like it! And I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all!

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Graphic sex, oral, fingering, language, homophobia, homophobic slurs. Word count: 2,443 "Onions and relish!?" you observed, watching Casey scoop condiments onto a ballpark hot dog. Your face screwed up. "Gross."

"I've got highbrow taste," Casey retorted, glancing at yours. "And you shouldn't talk. Ketchup and mustard? Are you five?"

"It's a classic," you argued, both pushing your way through the crowded line of Yankees fans waiting for their own ballpark snacks.

You returned to your seats, up in the nosebleeds along with a scattering of other die-hard baseball fans, the humming of a summertime crowd and the buzzing of the lights wrapping around you like a blanket. You heard the crack of a bat, and both you and Casey froze, watching the field.

"Yes!" you yelled, pumping your fist in the air as your team–the Cardinals–drove in another run. "Fuckin' Redbirds!"

Normally, you'd be a lot more self-conscious about drawing attention to yourself in a crowd like this–almost exclusively Yankees fans, including your girlfriend. When the Yankees weren't playing the Cardinals, you wore some of Casey's Yankees gear and cheered them on with her. But the Cardinals? They'd been your family's team for generations. You'd grown up on Pujols and Molina and Wainwright, and you were nothing if not loyal. But in this crowd, you stood out amongst the black-and-white like a red thumb. Casey had looked embarrassed, and you'd worried for a moment that she really was bothered by your vocal support of the away team.

"Am I embarrassing you?" you'd asked.

"Yes."

"In a bad way?"

Casey looked at you and smiled at your serious expression. "No, honey. Like, embarrassing but it's endearing. Does that make sense?"

You thought about it for a moment. "I think so. You would tell me if I was bad embarrassing?"

"I would," she confirmed, patting your hand.

It was one of your favorite things about Casey that she was so patient when you misread or didn't understand social cues. She never made fun of you. She always explained, and she always reassured you when you were afraid you'd done something wrong.

But this time it was definitely Casey who had done something wrong. You watched her shove a bite of hot dog into her mouth, beautifully messy, as always when she wasn't at work.

"Your whole mouth is gonna taste like pickles for the rest of the night," you muttered, taking a bite of your own hot dog.

She looked at you, smirking. "And why are you so concerned about my mouth, huh?"

You blushed. "No reason..."

"Mmhm." She took another bite, smug, then grasped your chin, pulling you to her for a kiss. Her lips were salty with sweat, and she smelled like the ballpark dust and the leather of her glove. She was intoxicating, but then you always felt lightheaded when Casey kissed you. Something about the stadium lights and the summer heat just made you that much more dazed.

"That's fuckin' hot," you heard someone say behind you. You shrank and glanced back, Casey's hand squeezing yours protectively. Two men, unshaven, with beers to go with their beer bellies, leered at you from the row behind.

"Nobody asked you, asshole," Casey shot back, flipping him off. You avoided eye contact with them, trying to make yourself smaller. Having grown up in the south, you'd been in enough unsafe situations because of your sexuality that your go-to defense was to ignore and hide. Casey's was not. She was tall and strong, and she'd grown up with absolute confidence in who and what she was.

Your nostrils flared in disgust as one of the men licked his lips, raking his eyes up and down Casey's body.

"What's a hot piece like you doing with a dyke? You oughta let a real man take you for a spin."

Casey stood and pushed him–hard. The man reeled, sloshing his beer all over his front. "You better shut your fucking mouth or I'll shut it for you," she growled.

The man's arm shot out, grabbing Casey by the back of her head. He dug his fingers into her hair to pull her closer. "That's okay, honey," he said. "I like 'em feisty."

Any fear you had dissipated into white hot anger as you watched, as if in slow motion. You, however, were not stuck in slow motion. Without thinking, you lunged forward, grabbed the man's wrist, and wrenched it back until he squealed. You shoved Casey behind you.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" you spat, puffing yourself up as you stood between him and your girlfriend. Which, considering your diminutive height, probably didn't do a whole lot to deter him.

Your teeth clenched and your whole body buzzed with rage. It took a lot to make you angry, but you were spitting angry now. All you knew was that no one–no one–was going touch Casey on your watch.

The man laughed, knocking your cap off your head with a swipe of his finger. "And what are you gonna do about it, Tiny Tim? Or should I say Tiny Tina?"

Without warning and, for once, without considering the consequences, you slammed your first into his groin as hard as you could which, considering you played softball, was pretty damn hard. It was a perk of your height that you were at the optimal angle to punch someone in the dick.

The man doubled over, coughing, and spilled the rest of his beer. "Fuckin' dykes," he muttered. He motioned to his friend, cupping his balls, and they sidled off. Probably looking for another section to harass women in.

You let out a shaky breath and turned to face Casey, your heart beating rapidly as the adrenaline faded and the nerves returned.

"Are you okay?" you asked, frantically looking her over, placing a gentle hand at the back of her head where the man had grabbed her.

You hardly noticed Casey watching you, biting her lip. You were too concerned with making sure she was safe and unharmed. As you rambled, checking her hands and neck and hair and face for any signs of hurt, Casey stared.

Finally, she interrupted you. "Y/N."

You stopped and made yourself meet her eyes.

"I think we should go." She looked at you pointedly.

You face fell. "Oh, love. I'm so sorry. We can go home if it'll make you feel better."

"No, that's not why."

A look of confusion crossed your face.

"We should go home because we have things to do."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't understand what you're saying, Casey."

She stepped closer, placing your hat back on your head and her arms on your shoulders. Her expression was self-satisfied as she leaned in, so close you could feel her breath, and whispered into your ear.

"Y/N," she breathed. "I need to do things. To you. Now."

"Oh," you said, the realization hitting you. "Oh my god. Okay."

You started gathering your things, then stopped and glanced at her. "From this? Really?"

"Y/N," she said, cheeks already flushed. "Don't make me wait. I'm gonna have a hard enough time making it home."

You tried to hide the mixture of shock and excitement on your face as you left the stadium, walking by the now abandoned concession stands and into the quiet parking lot.

"What's the alternative?" you asked her as you climbed into the driver's seat.

"What?"

"To making it home. You said you were gonna have a hard time making it home. But, like, where else would we–"

You were cut off by Casey's lips on yours, her breath hot and desperate as she grabbed your collar. She slid her tongue into your mouth, her teeth clacking against yours as she surged toward you, pushing for more.

When you separated, you both breathed heavily. Casey's face was flushed with lust. "If it were up to me," she said, leaning back in the seat. "I would've fucked you in the ballpark bathroom. I'd take you right here in the car. But I know that's not your style, so for the love of god..." Her eyes bored into you. "Drive."

Usually a slow driver, you made it back to Casey's apartment in record time. And, true to her word, Casey did have a hard time making it to the apartment, stopping at every chance she got–stoplights, outside the car door, in the elevator, the hallway–to kiss your neck, your mouth, undoing buttons of your Cardinals jersey as you went. Her hands slipped inside your shirt whenever you stopped for so much as a second.

When she finally got you into her bedroom, she was ravenous, tugging your clothes off and tossing them to the side with a singular focus. Her eyes were glazed and her face red as she struggled with your bra clasps.

"Fucking hell," she muttered, her fingers fumbling.

"Jesus, Casey," you said, reaching back to do them for her. "Calm down."

She groaned, letting her eyes rove over your now nude body, pushing you gently but forcefully on your back. She pecked you on the lips, then took your bottom lip between her teeth. You gasped, filled with both pain and pleasure. When she let you go, she was grinning.

"I'm gonna make you feel so..." She kissed your neck. "Fucking." Your collarbone. "Good." She lowered herself over you and pressed her mouth into yours, breathing you in, letting her tongue roam freely.

You moaned, arching your back. "Don't hold back on me now," she growled, leaving bite marks down your neck and across your chest. Usually quiet, you gave yourself permission to make some noise. After all, it drove Casey crazy.

"Fuck, Casey," you whined as she swirled her tongue across your nipples, first one and then the other, her hands pressing just above your hips. You writhed into her, squirming for more, your center already sopping wet.

"Tell me what you want," Casey said, trailing her tongue from your chest down to your stomach.

You struggled against her hands, pressing you into the bed. "Come on," you complained, nearly begging.

"Tell me," Casey said again, more forcefully, her fingers grazing over your clit.

You saw stars. "Fuck me."

Casey chuckled, her low voice vibrating against your already swollen clit. "That's my girl."

You gasped as she sucked your clit between her lips, swishing her tongue back and forth, back and forth. Her arms pinned your thighs in place, holding your writhing body tight. You heaved and moaned as you pushed Casey's head into your center. Her hair was soft and damp with sweat under your fingers, and you felt desperate for her as you chased your high.

She waited until you were nearly bursting, your breath hitching and your back arched against her, then pulled quickly away, wiping her mouth.

You gasped frantically. "What the fuck, Casey!?"

"Shh," she commanded, crawling back up your body and grabbing your chin. She straddled your hips, her own soaked center resting over yours.

"Casey, please," you begged, your eyes fluttering shut, the need of her flooding you.

"Don't close your eyes, honey. Look at me."

You huffed but opened your eyes, staring defiantly into hers, green and hungry and lustful.

She held your face still with one hand, then crept back down your body with the other. You let out a moan, squirming.

"Now arch your back for me," she said, the heel of her palm pressing hard into your clit.

Your body nearly exploded with the sensation, and you thrust into her with everything you had. You grabbed at Casey, pulling her into you, elated to know that she was using you, too, unable to put off her own pleasure any longer.

Your breath came faster and faster, your body jerking into Casey as Casey thrust toward you. You watched each other, both on the brink of losing control. Casey moaned, shutting her eyes briefly before squeezing your chin and staring at you.

"Now," she said.

And that one word was all it took. Your body shook against Casey's, your hips riding into her again and again, desperate for the friction as you moaned. She did the same, her nails digging into the skin at the top of your throat as she rode out her own orgasm. It felt like the two of you were hurtling across space, starbursts and supernovas and whole galaxies flashing inside you as you held onto one another. You quivered against her as the fireworks dissipated, spent and sweaty and heaving.

Casey grinned and planted kisses across your collarbone, counting. "One. Two. Three..."

You laughed and groaned. "Casey," you protested.

She'd discovered early on that, if she timed it right, she could make you come indefinitely. The only thing that stopped her was you getting overstimulated.

"Twenty-two," she finished and, once again, pressed the heel of her hand into your clit, harder and harder until she had you ready again, your hands grasping the bedsheets.

Your orgasm washed over you again, like a wave this time, pouring over you from head to toe.

Casey started in again, this time with her lips at the back of your knees. "One. Two..."

By the fifth round, you were nearly delirious, and Casey was salivating.

"Casey," you groaned, your body still pressing into her hand, almost against your will. "It's too much."

"Come on, sweetheart," she said, kissing you roughly. "Give me one more."

She continued grinding her hand into you, meshing her lips with yours, her tongue roving. Your breath caught and you moaned into her mouth, your orgasm taking you over one final, quaking time.

Casey cradled your head in the crook of her arm as you continued to shake, finally letting you relax.

"Thank you," she whispered, peppering your face with kisses.

You scrunched your nose. "For what? Letting you beat your record?"

"Well, that, too." She chuckled, deep and throaty, then brushed your sweaty bangs out of your face. "For protecting me. From that asshole."

You turned to her and tucked her hair behind her ear, running your thumb across her eyebrow.

"I would die before I let someone hurt you." Your voice was so quiet that, had anyone else been in the room, even they wouldn't have been able to hear. But you did. And Casey did.

She looked at you for a moment, then leaned down and kissed your forehead, hard and purposeful.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too."

You lost yourself in her arms for a bit as she ran a hand absentmindedly through your hair.

"We should go to more baseball games," Casey mused after a while.

You laughed. "Only if there's no relish involved."

"Deal."

[rqgnarok]

leave a light on - nolan price

prequel for love you better now, but can be read individually

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

wc: 4,735

warnings: canon presence of injuries, blood, violence, weapons, and hospitals. female reader.

summary: nolan's wife gets shot. he tries and fails to deal with that.

author's note below! masterlist / ko-fi / ao3

Nolan misses Liv’s call thrice before he calls for a recess.

The first two he’s stuck cross-examining a witness and doesn’t realize she’s trying to reach him until the third time she calls. He can’t answer– Judge MacNamara is lenient but not enough for Nolan to take a call in the middle of the day– but it goes to voicemail and his screen lights up with Liv’s other calls, constant and insistent.

He immediately knows it’s bad. And he immediately knows it’s about you.

His chest constricts with his panic, breath catching and refusing to enter his lungs as his brain catches up to the situation. The courtroom is suddenly too small and suffocating, his tie a noose around his neck.

It takes McNamara calling his name several times and the DA snidely wondering if the defense needs a minute for Nolan to somewhat snap out of it, pressing on Liv’s contact before the judge finishes adjourning for the day.

“Nolan,” she says, shaky. 

Not Price, which is what he’d expect from his wife’s coworker. They’re all friends, sure, but during work hours they fall into the habit of keeping each other at arm’s length. Not right now, for some reason, and Nolan is tiptoeing the line between fine and about to crumble on the courthouse steps from a knock-out panic attack. 

“What happened?” Because something must’ve happened. You have one of the most dangerous jobs out there, life-endangering experiences being the norm and coming home not-dead being a good day. But if Liv is calling– if Liv is calling and you aren’t…

Nolan has been psyching himself up for this day since you first told him about joining the police academy. He’s still somehow not ready. 

He will never be ready for this. 

Olivia hesitates for a second too long and Nolan’s fear gets the best of him. “Olivia. What happened?”

Her voice cracks when she says your name. Nolan grips his briefcase so tightly on the way to the hospital that his hand goes numb, nails digging into the skin of his palm until it’s red and tender. 

The knot of anxiety in his belly doesn’t unclench despite the quick, easy ride to Bellevue. New York traffic seems to be doing him a favor, but it isn’t the physical distance he’s worried about. That one he’s able to cross but there’s nothing he can do if his wife is… if you…

Nolan finds himself amidst a sea of NYPD blue as soon as he steps into the reception, talking over each other as they watch over one of their injured own. None of them are familiar faces and his vision tunnels, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears drowning out doctors, officers, and detectives. 

Suddenly, the sea of people parts. Olivia is in his line of sight and it gives Nolan something to focus on rather than the never-ending possibilities of what he’s facing here. She looks disheveled, shirt askew and vest still halfway on; hair out of place and expression haunted, but no blood. There’s no blood on her and it's an important distinction for Nolan to make when she seizes his free hand in hers.

“Nolan,” she says, and her voice sounds like static, just like it did on the phone. It isn’t the line but Nolan’s brain filled with noise, like cotton in his ears. “Nolan, are you okay?”

“What happened?” he asks now in person. Liv hadn’t explained, not really. She only told him that you were hurt and they were taking you to Bellevue. You should come too, she’d said, and should had sounded more like need, which did nothing to soothe Nolan’s raising hackles.

His breath stutters. Nolan knows what happened but can’t comprehend it. He’s still holding onto his fucking briefcase and his hands won’t stop shaking. 

Liv only blinks at him, mouth open and no words coming out. “Liv. What happened?”

“We were chasing a suspect via foot,” and Nick’s there, too, by Liv’s side, like an apparition Nolan’s broken mind has conjured. His brows are furrowed, jaw tense. “We caught him mid-rape and separated to cover more ground. No one had mentioned a gun during their disclosures, he wasn’t supposed to be armed.”

“She caught up to him first,” Liv continues, shaking her head. “He– Shots went off but we didn’t know– he must’ve known we were onto him. Got his hands on a gun after the first wave of assaults.”

Nolan bites the inside of his cheek. He tastes blood, thinks of his wife. Stops.  

“She was alone for two minutes tops,” Nolan wonders if Liv thinks she’s being reassuring. “She’d been shot, we called a bus right away.”

“Where?” Nolan asks tightly.

Liv stares, uncomprehending. Nick answers, “What?”

“Where, where in her body was she shot, how–” he struggles for a full breath and only comes out half successful. “How bad is it?”

Silence. 

“Did you– did you not see her?” he wonders, biting. Nolan turns back and forth between his wife’s coworkers, losing his patience. “Were you there, was she– Jesus, Liv, how bad is it?”

“The bullet hit her chest,” Nick says, and Nolan loses all fiery, defensive passion right then and there. His own heart stops for a second, or at least that’s what it feels like when his chest is engulfed by a pressing ache that numbs him all over. 

“They took her straight to surgery,” Amaro continues when Nolan finds no answer to that. “Liv rode with her in the ambulance but there wasn’t– it’s in their hands now. They’re taking care of her, pal, okay?”  He reaches to touch Nolan’s shoulder, shake him a little. “She’s getting help.”

Where was the help when she was alone chasing a fucking criminal, where the hell were you, huh he wants to say; wants to shout and curse and make a scene, but the words get stuck in his throat and in the next blink he finds himself seated in the waiting room, still surrounded by cops.

God, Nolan thinks, pressing his fingers to his tightly closed lids. When in all your years together could he have seen this coming? The pretty girl in a law course elective that outsmarted half of the senior class still in his life decades later, bleeding out a couple rooms over and threatening to take his heart with her six feet under. 

He remembers running into you after that final exam outside the lecture hall. He’d been catching his breath on a bench when suddenly you were there too, smiling as you crouched against the opposite wall, elbows on your knees. You’d nodded. “How’d you do?”

Nolan had stuttered back, flustered in your presence, “I’m, uh, not flushing out yet, I hope.”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“Ask me after I’ve slept some 12 hours,” he’d sighed, messing nervously with his hair. “Things usually seem less dire by then.”

“Would some coffee do the trick?” and Nolan hadn’t known it then, but you’d been nervous too. After all, you’d offered him what would be the first day of the rest of your lives together. No easy feat, but you’d seen something in him that deemed him worthy of you. 

“Coffee can work,” Nolan, young and eager, had said slowly. He couldn’t stop grinning, high with lack of sleep and your attention on him. “You’re buying?”

“It’s only fair,” you’d shrugged, but there was something giddy about your expression that still appears in your features these days, bright and young. “You look like you’re about to drop dead.”

“And I still seem like worthy company?”

“I think we can pull a few good hours out of you yet,” a few hours, a few years; Nolan will be as sleepless as he was then on his wedding day out of pure excitement. You’ll have spent the night before the ceremony talking on the phone while in separate rooms since your friends were sentimental little fucks and wouldn’t let him even kiss you goodbye before the big day. 

He’d described the few hours apart as agony in his vows, had made the crowd laugh and you cry with the sentiment, and now he wishes he hadn’t. He shouldn’t have said a damned thing, shouldn’t have manifested any sort of agony into your lives because now the illusion cuts off sharply and he’s back in the waiting room, a nurse calling your name while he fiddles with his wedding ring, staring blankly into the hallway. 

Liv’s still there for some reason, as are some other officers and Amaro, while the others hunt down the man who landed you here. Munch had snapped at the Captain when he told him he couldn’t stay. Fin had to lead Amanda out by the shoulders, too stricken to walk out herself. 

Liv and Amaro stand but it takes Nolan a few moments to return to himself. She tells them, gently, that you’re out of surgery. “She lost a lot of blood, but only some of the bullet’s fragments hit her heart. It was touch and go but the doctor was able to extract all of them.”

Nolan’s lungs open up and he breathes his first full breath since Liv called. He must make a sound, because the attention in the room shifts to him, suffocating and inquisitive. His vision blurs for a second, heartbeat pumping in his ears.

“She’s extremely lucky,” she continues, looking right at Nolan, like it's supposed be comforting. Like that’s what luck means, almost-but-not-quite bleeding out while your heart had to be stitched up back together. “Most people with injuries like this don’t even make it past the ambulance.”

Nolan closes his eyes in anguish. He presses his closed fists against his forehead, elbows on his knees, back hunched. It’s almost like he’s trying to disappear into himself, but the image of an ambulance opening its doors to his flatlining wife refuses to leave him.  

“There’s still a long way to go,” she continues, softer, realizing she’s hit a nerve. She turns to Liv and Nick, who are paying rapt attention even as Nick walks close to him to put a hand on Nolan’s shoulder, firm and steady. “She won’t wake up anytime soon. Her body needs rest and to recuperate from the most acute injuries. And the doctor would like to talk about next steps once she does.”

Next steps, Nolan thinks. The only next steps he’s aware of are those that lead to your room. Olivia and Amaro trail behind him and the nurse like a couple of guard dogs, standing alert for any sign of Nolan backing out or collapsing into his grief.

He just might. He feels queasy, nauseous with exhaustion and worry. But then he sees you, and nothing else matters. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, devastated, walking to your bed. “Oh, honey.”

Despite his eagerness to touch you, Nolan flails when you’re finally within arms reach. You look asleep for one blissful, hopeful moment, but then Nolan blinks and the light settles; the ashiness of your skin, the uncomfortable placing of your body, the blank expression devoid of dreams or nightmares or consciousness. 

He’d usually be embarrassed to have witnesses to such a personal display of affection, but not even Liv and Nick standing at the door can stop Nolan from carefully cupping your face in his hands and kissing the apple of your cheek, lingering and gentle. He’s afraid of touching the rest of you, of jostling you too badly. But the steady noise of your heart rate monitor is a constant, loud reminder that you won’t fall apart that easily.

Liv and Nick linger behind him, talking quietly amongst themselves in sharp whispers. It might or might not be an argument. Nolan would kick them out if he could gather the energy to care. 

Benson eventually takes a few apprehensive steps into the room, seemingly having lost whatever fight she and her partner were having. 

“We’re on our way out,” she murmurs. “There’s a lead on our guy and Cragen’s calling us all back to the precinct. But if there’s anything…”

She trails off. Nolan doesn’t answer, studies instead the bridge of your nose and the shape of your brows, tries to count your eyelashes and catalog the bruises on your face. Liv sighs defeatedly and reaches for him.  

“Whatever you need,” Liv says firmly with a hand on his arm. Still, her steady presence is undermined by the way she keeps looking at you like you’re already in a coffin. For that, Nolan wants her out, can’t stand her even if she rode with you to the hospital and kept you semi-conscious until the doctors took you off her hands. “We’re here for you, alright? All of us, Nolan. I’m serious.”

“Thanks,” he says, monotone, voice rough and cracked from swallowing down his panic and tears. He clears his throat but it does little to help. “Thank you, Liv. For everything.”

Her lips tighten in an unpleased line, but she nods and leaves the room with one last pat to his arm. He’s being ungrateful, he knows. Liv’s the one who found you, who held your hand in the ambulance before they drove you off to surgery. Nolan owes Benson his life.

The thought alone makes him so nauseous he has to clench his eyes shut, breathing shallowly. God, what would he have done? What will he do, if something happens to you? You aren’t out of the woods yet and if something goes wrong, if your body decides to cave in, if the wound gets infected, if there’s something they didn’t catch, if, if, if, if–

He lifts his head and catches his wife’s face, lax and motionless. Once again, the panic settles. He hasn’t gotten the chance to let it unfold the way it needs to. 

“I finally got you on your own,” Nolan says, soft, careful not to disturb the semblance of peace in the room.You don’t answer, no matter how badly Nolan wants you to. “You’re very popular. A tough one to find these days, you know.”

You weren’t even supposed to be in today. Cragen had called mere hours after you’d gone to bed and Nolan had done his best to stay up while you got ready to go. You’d kneeled next to his side of the bed and Nolan had leaned in to kiss you without thought, an automatic notion he wishes he’d paid more attention to now. 

I’ll call you when I can, you’d nudged your nose against his temple before pressing a kiss there. Nolan had already been half asleep at that point. I love you.

Love you, Nolan mumbled, eyes closed, jutting his chin forward blindly. One more. 

He continues as if you had replied. “You’ve got half of the NYPD out there waiting on you. The nurses are rioting, but I don’t think anyone’ll leave until you wake up.”

Nolan’s voice loses the battle, it breaks right at the end of his sentence and so does his composure, eyes burning with tears that for some goddamned reason just won’t fall.

“Please,” he begs to the sky, to God, to no one. “Please, please, please. Wake up.”

He presses his forehead to his wife’s limp hand maybe a little too harshly. Even if your skin is cold and your grip nonexistent, the touch has him sobbing dryly.

An hour ago you were in surgery, out of reach and sight even if you were already getting help.

Three hours ago you were bleeding out in some alleyway in Queens, struggling for your radio to call for help. 

Twelve hours ago you were kissing him goodbye, smiling against his mouth despite the dark nature of the case because Nolan kept pulling you in for one more kiss.

One more, one more, one more, his pleads now. Wake up and give me one more, sweetheart, come on.

“Please, honey,” he whispers, wet and nasal with emotion. “I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready yet, I didn’t– I don’t–”

The words don’t come. Nolan chokes, holds your hand in his own. Breathes, breathes, and breathes. 

Days keep piling up. You don’t wake up and Nolan doesn’t cry. God knows why, but he can’t, his body on automatic while he solely focuses on your condition. The nurses know him by name and he makes record time to the apartment and back for showers and quick naps, some food for the little appetite he has. 

He doesn’t even think to be offended when he’s placed on indefinite leave at work. Nolan can’t bring himself to care, he would’ve stacked up every sick day and vacation time available to stay at your side as much as he could anyway. 

The squad offers to stand guard almost daily, which Nolan appreciates, but his object permanence has gone to shit. Whenever he doesn’t have eyes on you his panic rises again like a tidal wave, never quite crashing but dwindling when he sits in that Godawful chair next to your bed. His hand settles your ankle or arm or somewhere he can easily look for your pulse, weak but steady, and it keeps him wearily calm.

It’s desperate, he knows, and more than a little pathetic, but Nolan feels like he’s allowed. Until you wake up to tell him he’s been worrying over nothing he will do as he pleases.

He talks to you. Liv and Amaro have caught him more than once speaking quietly into the lull of the hospital room, holding your hand and drawing soothing motions with his thumb against your skin.

Mom drove into the steps again. The ones in the driveway? They were already loose from last time and now she has Dad driving through every Home Depot in North Carolina to find the right tile to replace them. 

Jill sends her best. Last time I saw her she was talking my ear off about her kid’s college fund. Apparently her husband lost half of it during Tuesday night with the boys, whatever that means.

Munch says he owes you 20 bucks from the Giants game from two weeks ago? Which is weird, because you haven’t watched a full game since, like, ‘08. Not like you’re missing anything, but still, your accuracy to outsmart Munch in his own line of work is pretty outstanding. 

It helps, though barely. Whenever he ventures over what you’ll do once you’re awake the illusion breaks and so does Nolan’s composure. He trails off, feeling foolish, the weight of his delusion pressing against his chest.    

“It’s not silly,” Munch tells him during one of his visits, the book he’s been reading to you resting on his lap. “You’re talking to your wife. If I’d done more of that back in my day then maybe I’d still be married.”

“Which time?” Nolan asks, his lips tingling with the almost want to smile.

Munch points at him, managing a smirk himself. “Exactly.”

He’s so sure it calms Nolan more than you’d expect. So far he’s the only other person who talks about you like you’re still alive and thus, the only one who doesn’t make an indomable rage wash over Nolan whenever they’re in the same room. 

He’s the one with him when you wake. You do so in a panic, waking Nolan up from his uncomfortable nap next to your bed. It’s a sudden flail after another as your heart rate monitor goes crazy and you don’t answer any call of your name, terrified and in pain.

It’s awful. Nolan doesn’t think he’ll ever forget how you almost tear your stitches mid panic while doctors and nurses gather around and kick him out with quick accuracy. There’s nothing he can do to help and he knows it, but he’s never supposed to be in a position in which he can’t help you.

He’s doomed to watch from a glass window, helpless, as you suffer without anyone to reach out to.  

She woke up but had to be sedated, a nurse tells him after, it’s normal for patients to be unaware of their surroundings after waking up from long periods of unconsciousness. We still haven’t been able to determine neurological damage, so we’ll have to wait until it wears off. 

“Kid, kid, hey,” Munch says, alarmed after coming back from the cafeteria with two coffees and finding Nolan sitting outside your room, crying into his knees. “What’s wrong, what happened? I was gone fifteen minutes–”

Nolan tries to explain but the words get caught up in his throat, his grief taking over his sense of logic. She woke up, he meant to say. She woke up and she didn’t know where she was and I stood by like an idiot watching her suffer. 

After he’s talked down from a panic attack he says, a mere croak. “She woke up. They don’t know–” his breath hitches “–but she woke up.”

Munch sighs, visibly relieved as he squats next to Nolan, cupping the back of his neck. “Good. That’s good, hey– Nolan. That’s good, okay? That’s one step closer to getting her back. This is good.”

He repeats those words to himself like a mantra. This is good, this is good, this is good, and doesn’t dare to close his eyes for something other than blinking until you’re conscious. It’s hours later, deep into the night when you open your eyes again, groggy and disoriented, blinking into the dark hospital room. 

“Honey,” he says, quiet and so, so relieved. You don’t appear to hear him and a flash of fear seizes his heart. He presses the button and calls for a nurse, edging closer to the bed. Nolan says your name, filled with trepidation. “Hey, honey, you with me?”

Arduously slowly, you follow the sound of his voice. You blink at him, gulping and saying, dry as the Sahara. “Nole.”

It’s the most glorious thing he’s ever heard. The smile that pulls at his mouth feels odd on his face, like he’s forgotten how to show joy. How to feel it. He goes to touch your face, hands shaky and reverent. “Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me.”

He offers you a drink and grips your hand all through the nurse’s examination, which you pass with flying colors. While she’s tinkering with your IV, you ask him, “Bellevue?”

“Yeah,” he says grimly, thumb rubbing soothing motions against your skin, trying to infuse some warmth. 

“Shot?” you wonder next.

Nolan hesitates. “You don’t remember?”

“Guessin’,” you slur, tired, blinks getting longer each time you close your eyes. 

The nurse pipes up then with the same explanations she’s given Nolan the past few weeks: the bullet to your heart, the long-lasting surgery, the even longer coma. You nod in all the right places but your head rests against the pillow and your expression is vacant, like you’ll forget all about it by the next time you wake up.

“Anyone… else?” you ask.

“No,” Nolan responds, watching some tension fall off your frame when he confirms this. He wishes he felt the same, though a selfish part of him would’ve preferred it to be someone else in this hospital bed instead of you; Liv or Amaro, Rollins or even Fin. It’s true, even if the thought is followed by guilt. “No, everyone’s fine, honey. Working their asses off and worried out of their minds, but okay. It’s just you.”

You hum and then promptly fall back asleep, breaths settling into an even rhythm. It’s then that his eyes water and his tears fall on the scratchy hospital sheets where you lay.  Oh, Nolan thinks, almost surprised by them. So this is what it takes.  

The next time he looks up, hours later, is because you’re reaching to touch his face, tender and shaky. He snaps to attention like a soldier called to the front lines, but there’s no trouble chasing after you, no bad thing happening for once. You’re both okay, safe in your hospital room while nurses and doctors and visitors keep passing by just outside the door.

“You haven’t slept,” you croak out as you drop your hand from where you’d been gently pressing at the bags under Nolan’s eyes, tired from that simple movement. Your chest rises and falls with breaths that are a little too labored, but your eyes are fixed on your husband, worried. “Nole.”

It almost makes him smile: how you worry about other people while you lie with a hole in your heart on a hospital bed. Nolan would laugh if he were sure the sound wouldn’t dwindle into sobbing. There’s nothing funny about this. Nothing.

“‘m alright,” he promises, croaky and wet from previous cries. You’re still a little too out of it, but your face contorts in weak disbelief. You don’t believe him for a moment. He amends: “I will be. And so will you. You’re gonna be okay, honey.”

happy new year!!! i wanted to start the year giving you a little something after being so absent the last couple of months and i've had this piece in my drafts for ages! it was originally waaay longer but i thought i'd end it on a happy note and maybe make a part two if anyone's interested?

anyway! i hope you guys enjoy what has become one of my favorite pairings to write and i hope you had a good time last night and a great 2024! thank you for reading!

<3

[xzyumi]

R O O M

[jelestes]

the one where olivia falls in love

casey x olivia — oneshot/headcanon

₊ ⊹

gun to her head, olivia never thought she’d fall in love in her late 50s let alone for someone she secretly knew — at some capacity — was the one in her mid 30s.

once casey was back full time — as their DA this time — she knew she couldn’t ignore the feelings the same way she did the first time they worked together, she tried for the first few months but true to be told she didn’t quite understand that this was what she was doing, olivia has never the best in understanding her own feelings, victims? victims she could read like a book but herself? that was a whole other story.

casey novak’s name was in no way unknown to olivia’s therapist, dr. smith had heard about the red-haired attorney a couple times before, her name came up almost immediately when the doctor asked olivia about her past relationships with women, back when benson first started questioning her sexuality.

the day dr.smith suggested to olivia that she could be picking up fights with casey just to avoid feeling other feelings for her — romantic ones, to be precise — olivia was livid, she left that office promising herself not to come back. it couldn’t be it. she liked women yes, they were past that, but not casey.

casey was a know it all, stubborn, annoying attorney who wasn’t afraid to give olivia hell when she thought she was in the wrong.

she also happened to be smart, funny and kind — not only to the victims — but to olivia as well, even when she was the one giving casey hell, even when it was undeservingly so.

god, she confused the hell out of olivia.

one minute she wanted to rip her a good one the same minute she wanted to rip her clothes off.

and those lips? god, olivia caught herself staring at them more times she was willing to admit. she was furious that she couldn’t kiss them she was equally as furious that casey was always the one questioning her authority, making her question her once steady believes, she hated that casey fierceness moved her, that it made her grow. she hated so much that she…loved it.

is safe to say that olivia returned to dr.smith’s office next thursday, a lot less angry but also a lot more confused.

it’s been a year since that thursday now.

she has a cup of coffee in her hands, a certain red haired DA lying next to her and a smile so huge in her face you’d have to look twice to be sure that’s really olivia benson.

they’re still adjusting to the whole living together thing, working on weekly schedules and dividing chores like who picks noah up from softball practice (his new hobby being a courtesy of the DA) or who makes — ok, in olivia’s case order — dinner.

they still bicker from time to time but mostly about work related stuff specially when they can’t see things eye to eye, but they now have a better solution to get rid of their tension filled arguments besides communication, obviously.

casey is gentle, gentler than olivia could’ve ever expected. she cries at family commercials, she laughs at old cartoons (god only knows how much olivia loves the sound of casey’s laughter), she loves early morning runs, she loves kids but specially olivia’s kid. she teaches him softball, she helps with his non math related — because casey sucks at math — homework and let him help in the kitchen whenever she makes dinner. noah loves casey too, for all of the above but mainly because she makes his mom happy.

olivia never thought she could find that kind of happiness, she’s seen the worst in people for too long, been alone for too long, repressed herself for too long but god once casey’s lips are on hers, when they’re giggling the wine away on their date nights, when casey sings — awfully off key — in her shower, when she holds baby nicky, when she teaches noah something law related, when she’s ripping a perp a good one on the stand, when she’s playing softball, when she’s tracing her skin with soft kisses, when she kisses her goodnight and good morning olivia can’t help but laugh at herself, how on earth could she had ever lived without this before? now all she hopes, no, she prays, is she will never have to live without it again.

[oneshotnewbie]

what about an Alt oneshot where the reader really struggles with Elliot leaving? Because Elliot was like a father to her so when she finds out hes gone she breaks down crying in Liv's arms. Liv has to have her in therapy because she struggles with feelings of abandonment and being unwanted like she becomes depressed?

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sound of dripping water echoed in the bathroom. Darkness surrounded you and only a single, lonely candle stood on the edge of the bathtub. Its flame flickered in the gentle breeze that rushed through the tilted window, throwing dark, scurrying shadows on the bare white tires.

You had not been this low to the ground in ages but it was only a matter of time before your family broke. Things have not been going well for weeks between Olivia and her partner, who was like a father figure to you.

Quarrels with unrequited feelings and hurtful situation mixed with the incident at the precinct, where he shot a young woman, was the last straw. Elliot was gone. Swallowed up by the earth without saying goodbye. He had simply quit his job and disappeared.

With an idefinable gaze, you looked into the puny candle flame. You drew your knees up and laid your head on them. Sitting there, your arms wrapped tightly around your body. Lonely, lost and abandoned.

Everyone who ever loved you was gone. Only your mother was still here. But she, too, had her own life. Olivia had her new team, her important job and everything started to seem worthless around you. Just a girl who was only almost grown.

You swallowed hard and put your hand on your chest. Firmly, you pressed against your chest and ran your cold fingers over your sternum. Gasping for air, your nails clawed at thin skin, feeling the pain that wrapped itself around your heart and slowly covered it with black spots.

A single tear fell onto your bare knee and slowly ran down your lower leg, disappearing into the sea of water that encased you. Slowly, you lowered yourself into the bathwater until your body and head were completely submerged in the cool wet. The world around you obliberating and dwindling in waves, you lingered further on your thoughts.

This heart. Bruised and a witness to terribly painful losses. If only you could close this heart off, protect it from further pain, then you would finally be free. You would finally be the girl without ballast, finally be able to be able to love again without fear of abandonment.

You felt awful, started hating yourself even though it was the people you should hate for giving you love and stealing it again. For all the broken pieced they left your heart in.

"Y/n!" the matching face suddenly appeared to the muffled voice entering your ears, the expression bearing a worried and anxious grimace. Olivia quickly pushed her hands through the wall of water, grabbing your shoulders before pulling you up with a mighty jerk. "What the hell are you doing?"

You gasped, took a few deep breaths, and refilled your lungs with the oxygen it needed. The darknes had seduced you and made you forget that your body was already screaming for air while you were lost in your mind. "I-I am sorry"

Feeling the cold gradually sifting through your bones, crushing you and eating you from the inside out, you were thankful that your mother immediately grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your shoulders, gently stroking your upper arms.

There was no sound. Even the drops of water that fell from your damp hair seemed afraid to move. The silence between both of you was so stifling, that Olivia held her breath for several secounds before taking a cautious step towards you, sitting on the floor next to the bathtub before leaning against the wall.

"Y/n?" she breathed, listened strenously into the darkness and looking into your pale face, whose color once had a beautiful beige hue. The sight of her daughter was far more painful than she had ever thought possible and she had to restrain herself from letting tears flow.

A thousand small but sharp needles pierced her heart. The woman knew it had something to do with Elliot´s departure, shortly after telling you that you would probably never come back, you had completely changed character and turned distant. Yes, almost depressed. "I want you to see a therapist," she whispered in a trembling voice and reached out a hand that stroked a stray strand of hair from your face.

Your eyes instantly watered as you began to sniffle. "Was I not worth anything to him? Not even a goodbye?" you whimpered softly, ignoring the sentence that just left your mothers mouth. A single tear trickled down your cheeks, mixing with the pearls of bath water that dripped down your chin in unison.

"Why did he leave us?" you sobbed and she leaned forward, dropping her head onto yours. Your voice cracked, fading until your body shook with silent tears in her embrace. "I thought we were family. H-he was like a father to me!"

Olivia´s hand found yours and intertwined with your fingers gently, as if you would break if she made a wrong move. She understood the pain you endured, knew exactly what such an exit without warning could do to a soul. Especially one as young as yours.

That Elliot chose to escape his emotional problems by disappearing was typical for him. Still, she missed her partner. The warmth that surrounded his body. The perfume that gradually faded and was forgotten. The woman missed the stubborn guy with aggression problems. The man who was a friend to her, if not a lot more.

He was the first guy to show her that there could be a relationship between friendship and family. Strong and unique like she had never felt before in her life. They had solved the most diverse and dangerous cases and defeated the worst people.

Elliot was one of the most important people her daughter´s life, along with her and Amanda but now he was gone. Now she had to sweep up the shards he had left behind and glue them together.

She was willing to stand by you and follow in his footsteps to represent both sides of being a parent. It would be difficult, especially at first, but she knew you could both do it together.

Tears rolled freely down her cheeks as she broke out of her painful thoughts while standing up and slowly pulling your petrified and blunted body out of the bathtub. While she dried you off and dressed you, gently combin your wet hair and blow-drying it, you were completely absent to reality, staring blankly at the cold tiles decorating the sink. 

Shivering and surrounded by inner coldness, you felt like freezing to death. It was too painful to fight it back. Cold was the pain you felt since he was gone, and you did not know if it would ever fade away.

[detectivesvu]

Time and Patience

Rafael Barba x Fem! Detective! Reader Tags: Smut (MDI!!!!). M/F Sex. Handjob. Relationship establishment. Part 2 to this fic. Word Count: 5.5k "But I don't know where to go from here."

"Hi." She nearly whispered, heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.

Rafael’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice. His eyes never left her face. He couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked under the soft glow of his desk lamp.

"Hi," He said, his voice equally soft as he gestured for her to come in and join him. There was a moment of silence between them before he spoke again. "I’m glad you could come."

“Yeah...I’m sorry it took so long for me to call you,” She said, entering his office. “I was trying to get through the workday.”

Rafael nodded in understanding, his eyes studying her intently, trying to gauge her mood. He wasn't sure how she was feeling. She was here in person, so he figured she at least didn't hate his guts for what happened.

"No need to apologize," He said gently. "I get it. Work can be demanding."

She gave a small chuckle as she sat in her usual chair in front of his desk. A small grin tugged at Rafael’s lips as her anxious laugh. Sensing her unease, he returned to his desk and sat on the other side, both of them in the same positions they had been in earlier.

Rafael’s eyes never left her. He couldn’t help but notice the nervous energy coming off her in waves. He could tell that she was just as uneasy as he felt, but he also knew that they needed to talk about what had happened, and the sooner the better.

"So…how was the rest of your day?" He asked, his voice soft yet firm.

She hated how awkward this was. It was painfully uneasy...suffocating even. They were never uncomfortable with one another. It wasn't natural for their dynamic. Now she felt like she was going to melt right in front of him.

“It was busy. Carisi and I chased leads for a long time on this case,” She said. “Nothing really turned up, so we’ll start fresh tomorrow.”

Rafael listened intently as she spoke about her busy latter half of the day. He was slightly disappointed that she hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room, but he didn’t want to push her into talking about it before she was ready.

"Sounds tiring," He said, scribbling a note onto one of the case files in front of him. "These cases can be draining."

“Tell me about it,” She sighed, throwing the ball in his court. “How was the rest of your day?”

He nodded with a shrug, not overly interested in talking about what he had been doing since she practically ran out of his office earlier that evening.

"Mine was…eventful," He said, his voice a hint more cautious than usual. There was a moment of silence before he continued. "I’ve been thinking about you…"

She swallowed hard, trying to keep the anxiety from rising in her throat. It seemed that he was getting right down to business. After all, they were always straight shooters with one another.

“I’ve been thinking about you too." She confessed, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

He felt relief knowing she wasn't angry at him or remorseful. After all, he had pushed the whole thing into motion. He hadn't been sure of how she felt about it. The last thing he wanted was her feeling like he had come on too strong.

Hearing her admit that she'd been thinking about him all day sent a jolt through Rafael. It was a small sense of relief knowing that he wasn't the only one who had been consumed by thoughts of her.

"So…we need to talk." He said, knowing it was an understatement.

“Yeah, we do,” She said, unsure of how to start. “Uhm…you go first.”

Rafael took a moment to gather his thoughts, his expression growing serious. He knew they needed to talk about what had happened earlier that day, but he wasn’t sure how to approach it. After a moment, he took a deep breath and started.

"Look, what happened before..." He failed to find the right words, suddenly feeling like he was completely winging this whole thing. "We need to talk about that."

“Right,” She gave a small laugh. “You said that already.”

Rafael couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle too. He knew she was nervous, and he knew he was too. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he completely blanked on what to say. The infamous talker Rafael Barba was now speechless.

“Look,” She tried to help him. “I…I don’t really know what to say. But I don’t want what happened to ruin us. I don’t know how it got heated so fast, but…I guess we had a lot of tension explode at once.”

He was taking in her words -- listening to her tone and studying her eyes. He knew her all too well. He knew how to read her, how to know what she was feeling. He knew they were both thinking the same thing -- they didn't want this to ruin their relationship...whatever it may be.

"You’re right," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on hers. "I think it's fair to say we've been...dancing around this for a while."

“I know. I just…didn’t expect it to happen so fast,” She said, her hands fiddling with the edge of her skirt. “You’re my friend first…but we also work together. And I feel like I reacted inappropriately for a work setting.”

What they had done was definitely inappropriate for a work setting...but he hadn't minded it. In fact, he was disappointed they hadn't made it further. He paused for a moment, rotating his pen in his hand before he answered.

"I'm not so innocent either," He reminded her, a sudden shimmer gleaming in his eyes. "But it was...intense, wasn't it?"

She looked at him then, meeting his dark, but playful gaze. She gave a small, almost shy smile.

“It was. And I don't regret it...just if you're wondering..."She shifted in her seat, getting to the meat of the conversation. "But I don't know where to go from here."

His playful expression faded a bit. He knew this had complicated their relationship beyond belief and moving forward was going to be tricky.

"I don't regret it either...but I also don’t know either," He admitted. "I just think it's going to be hard to go back to how things were before. We can't pretend it didn't happen."

“I agree,” She nodded. “I just don’t know what it means for us.”

Rafael looked at her intently, his eyes studying her face as he tried to find the right words to say. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure how she felt or if she was ready to admit it yet.

"What do you want it to mean for us?" he asked softly, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability.

Her eyes were soft as she looked at him, her voice honest and true to him.

“I’m not unhappy that it happened,” She said. “But…I don’t know what it would look like for us if we…pursued this. Pursued us."

Rafael nodded, realizing that she was trying to articulate what he couldn’t put into words. Deep down, he had been thinking the same thing. He wanted there to be an "us" between them, but he didn’t know quite what that would look like either. He leaned forward a bit, resting his arms on the desk in front of him.

"You’re right. It’s about what it means for us if we decide to explore this further." He remarked.

She knew it was a bit risky. They worked together and already spent so much time together in a work context. If they officially turned things personal and romantic, what would that look like? Would they be able to handle seeing each other so often? Could their personal relationship be able to withstand their work schedules? There were a lot of questions that she didn't have the answers to. But they were both so involved with one another now, that it felt so wrong to not give it a try.

“I…suppose we can try. Start slow, you know?” She said. “I was just…afraid you would think I had crossed a boundary today.”

Rafael chuckled softly, a small smirk playing on his lips. He couldn’t help but find her concern slightly amusing.

"Crossed a boundary?" He repeated, his eyes never leaving hers. "I don’t think we’ve been particularly respectful of boundaries for a while now."

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” She laughed. “I just wasn’t sure how you felt about earlier. I wanted to be sure we were on the same page. That I hadn’t totally scared you off today.”

Rafael smiled softly, shaking his head.

"Oh, I wasn’t scared off. In fact, quite the opposite," He said, a faint hint of amusement in his voice. "You’d have to do a lot more than that to scare me off."

“Good to know,” She smiled, a small silence between them for just a moment. “So…does this mean we’re going to take things slow? See where it takes us?”

Rafael nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew that taking things slow would be the sensible option. He wanted to do this right and do it the way that was best for them. But still...he knew they both felt like they had unfinished business from earlier.

"Slow. Yeah, that sounds… responsible." He paused, his eyes searching hers. "But I have to warn you, I’m not exactly known for my patience."

Truth be told, it was going to be difficult for them to “take things slow.” When essentially that’s what they had been doing up until today. Over the last few months, they had been flirting, talking, hanging out…just never in a determined way. Today had been the first day things had turned romantic. It was just that neither of them had realized they had essentially pre-dating the last few months.

“Neither am I,” She returned the same tone. “Some call it a flaw of mine.”

Rafael chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement at her words. He had always known that she was impatient, and this only confirmed it. It was one of the things he found endearing and irritating about her all at once.

"It's a flaw we both share," He said, his voice laced with a hint of humor. "Which, of course, makes things a bit more interesting."

Now that she was really thinking about it, this really did seem like the logical next step. She didn't respond just yet, her eyes slightly squinted as she continued to look him over.

Rafael could see her mind working, and he chuckled again, leaning back in his chair. He knew from the look on her face that she was starting to realize that this had been inevitable for a long time now.

"Are you starting to realize how ridiculous this all is?" He teased. "We’ve basically been pre-dating for months now and it took us this long to realize it?"

“That seems so on brand for us, doesn’t it?” She asked with a small scoff. “Basically dating and we didn’t even know it until things got hot.”

"Oh, definitely. It’s a wonder it took us this long to figure it out," He paused only for a moment. "It’s not necessarily a bad thing, is it? The tension made things interesting...until you couldn't take it anymore."

Her eyes widened, her brows shooting up in surprise. Her lips curled into a smirk.

“Counselor,” She said. “You’re not insinuating that I was the one that broke first, are you?”

Rafael chuckled at her reaction, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. He knew exactly what he was implying, and he was enjoying messing with her.

"Oh, I think you know the answer to that, Detective," he teased, leaning forward slightly. "You may try to deny it, but we both know who cracked first."

“If I do so recall,” She leaned forward. “I remember you saying you were going to take me on your desk. That sure sounds like breaking to me.”

Rafael couldn't help but let out a startled laugh at her words, his eyes going wide. She couldn't throw that back at him.

He quickly recollected himself, his expression turning to one of mischief. He leaned forward, his voice lower now.

"And if I recall, you seemed to like the idea of that… greatly."

“Maybe…” She kept her cool. “But I’m not the one who broke first.”

They could do this all night...and they were just getting started.

"Is that so? Because I remember clearly, you’re the one who started this whole thing. You were practically begging me to take you right there on my desk, Detective." His voice was deep and slow.

“I was just making friendly conversation about a coworker and the conversation so happened to turn into work related things,” She nearly whispered. “That’s not begging, counselor. You couldn’t make me beg even if you tried.”

"Is that a challenge, Detective?" Rafael chuckled, his smile growing more arrogant by the second. He leaned even closer, his face mere inches from hers, his voice a husky whisper. "Because I can think of a few ways I could have you begging very quickly."

She slowly stood from her chair, hands pressed against his desk.

“That’s not going very slow, Counselor.” She said.

Rafael looked up at her, his eyes darkening as she stood over him, her hands resting upon his desk.

"Slow is overrated," Without warning, he reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her forward so she was standing between his legs. He smirked up at her, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "And you’re not exactly helping."

“I came by for a chat, per your request.” She tried to ignore the feeling of his hands on her waist. “Isn’t that what we’re doing? Talking?”

Rafael let his hands run gently up and down the sides of her hips as he continued to look up at her, his voice silky and low.

"You’re right, you’re right. We are talking. Just a simple, friendly conversation between coworkers." He tugged her closer still, his hands gripping her hips a bit more firmly, his smirk growing wider. "But your body’s saying something completely different, Detective."

The term coworkers irritated her because she knew they were well past that. They had been past that for a while now. Rafael noticed the subtle shift in her expression when he said 'coworkers.' It was obvious that she was on the same page as him. They were well past the point of mere coworkers, and they both knew it. He released a low chuckle, his hands still on her hips, his fingers gently tracing over the fabric of her skirt.

"What is it? You look annoyed. Does the word 'coworkers' bother you all of a sudden?"

“We’re hardly coworkers, Rafael.” The usage of his first name sent a chill down his back. “That’s putting it lightly, don’t you think?”

He could tell she knew exactly what she was doing. He looked up at her, his eyes dark and intense.

"You're right," he said in a low voice, his hands still on her hips, his grip a bit tighter now. "I've never wanted to take any of my coworkers on my desk. But you…" He pulled her closer still, his voice dropping to a huskier tone. "You're something else, [Y/N]."

Her hands were fiddling with his tie in a calculated and seductive way. Her eyes trailing up and down his body as she looked at the suspenders he always wore.

“Tell me more. What exactly am I?' She hummed.

Rafael swallowed harshly as he watched her hands play with his tie, her eyes roving over his body. Her touch, coupled with the intensity of her gaze, was driving him mad.

He pulled her even closer, to the point where she was standing in between his legs.

"You’re maddening," he said, his voice rough. "You’re infuriating. You’re captivating. You’re everything I’ve been trying to resist for months now."

“Yeah?” She looked at him in the eyes again. “All those months of waiting…sounds to me like you’re admitting that you broke first.”

Rafael’s jaw clenched as she called him out, a smirk spreading across his lips.

"You think you’re being cheeky, don’t you?" He drawled, pulling her into his chest. "I may have broken first, but trust me, you’ll be breaking too."

He backed her into his desk, the very same way he had earlier that day. But this time, it was late at night, and there was no one to interrupt.

The desk pressed into the backs of her thighs as he pushed her against it, his body pressing close against hers, his hands still gripping her hips. He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear as he spoke in a rough whisper.

"No work to be done. No one to bother us. Just you and I," he murmured, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "And we have a lot of lost time to make up for."

Her heart was pounding as she felt him begin to envelop her senses. He was going to have her at his mercy in no time.

Rafael could feel her heart racing under his touch, and he reveled in the power he had over her. He nipped at her earlobe, then trailed kisses down her jawline, his hands roaming over her hips and thighs. He could feel her breath hitching in anticipation, and it only fueled his hunger for her.

He moved his mouth to her neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there, his thumbs rubbing lazy circles into her hips. Her hands were wedged between them, her fingers fumbling to get the buttons of his shirt undone. She had one leg hooked around his, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

Rafael felt her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and he smirked against her neck, his lips continuing to graze over her sensitive skin. He could feel her leg around his, trapping him in place, and he chuckled lowly.

"Impatient, Detective?" he teased, his teeth gently scraping against her collarbone.

“That makes two of us,” She sighed, when he found his way to her lips, her words muffled against his kiss. “Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for this?”

Rafael deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers, his hands roaming over her body with more fervor now. He could feel her need for him, and it only served to heighten his own desire.

He broke the kiss just long enough to speak, his voice a low growl. "I won't get in trouble. We're all alone."

Her mind was reeling. She wondered for a quick moment what Olivia would say if she knew she was here with their ADA, nearly at his mercy. Olivia had always been a bit protective over her, and she knew she would be getting a lecture when Olivia inevitably found out about this. But for now she wasn't worried about it. This was an opportunity she wasn't giving up.

Rafael watched as her hands moved to unbutton her blouse, his eyes devouring her as more of her skin was revealed. He could feel his body growing hotter with each button that came undone, and he knew he was losing his restraint. His hands roamed over her bare skin, his mouth finding its way to her neck again, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh there. He was all over it once her shirt was open, her hands moving to his waist to get his belt undone.

Articles of clothing were going everywhere. His tie, her shirt, his belt, her shoes. They moved with a careless fervor, discarding all clothing as they went. His hands roamed her body, wanting to touch her everywhere, wanting to possess her body and soul. His mouth found hers in a heated kiss, his hands gripping her thighs as he hoisted her up to sit on the desk. He stood between her legs, his chest pressed against her, his hands pushing her skirt - her only clothing article left between the two of them -- up to her hips. His hands pushed up her legs to get her skirt out of the way, when he made a mouth watering discovery.

Rafael let his hands slide over her thighs, pushing her skirt up to reveal tantalizing amounts of her skin. He was enjoying every second of this and wanted to savor every moment. But then he felt her skin against his fingertips… and he froze. He looked down at her legs, his eyes going wide at the sight of her, his voice dropping to a rough rumble.

"You're not wearing anything underneath." He said, almost flatly.

Truth be told, that was a complete coincidence. It was a longer pencil skirt and sometimes she just didn't bother with wearing anything underneath. But it seemed tonight it was playing in her favor, so she decided to go with it.

"Hm. It must've slipped my mind." She hummed.

When her leg wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her, he had to bite back a groan. He felt like he was coming undone, his control being pushed to the limit. He leaned down, his lips hovering over hers, his voice a low husk.

"You have no idea the things I want to do to you right now." He reached for the zipper on the side of her skirt, dragging it down and opening her skirt. She helped him slip it off of her, watching it slide down her legs and onto the floor.

She was spread out across his desk, her legs wrapped around him and keeping him as close to her as he could almost possibly get. She was flushed, but glowing in the dim light of his office. And it occurred to him that he could now have this whenever he wanted.

She was a sight to behold, spread out across his desk, her body responding to his touch, her legs wrapped around him, holding him close. He looked down at her, his eyes taking in every inch of her body. He had dreamed of this moment a million times before, having her for himself and them finally indulging in one another. He had never felt so connected to someone before. He adored her in every way, and now he was going to have her in a totally new way. She looked so gorgeous and so beautiful laid out in front of him, he hardly even believed she was really here with him.

His heart hammered away in his chest as he watched her eyes gloss over him, looking at him with nothing but admiration and desire in her eyes. Her hand hovered as she looked at him, his hand holding the side of her neck to keep her face close to his.

"Can I touch you?" She whispered, her voice sending a whole party of fireworks to explode all inside of him.

"Please," His teeth grazed her lower lip, his words coming out as a stutter when her warm hand wrapped around his hard cock. "Oh f-fuck."

All this time, the feeling of her touching him was all in his imagination...his daydreams late at night when he couldn't sleep and could only think of her. But now it was real and happening, and it felt so much better than anything he ever dreamed up.

Her touch is electrifying as she runs her hand along his length, being gentle and calculated with her movements. He shudders against her when he kisses her again, her hand pumping him to get him worked up. A warmth slips through her fingers and wets her palm, his pre cum layering her hand as she strokes him.

He groaned into her mouth, his own hand finding its way between her legs. He knew his fingers were cold when he touched her based on the goosebumps that erupted all over her skin. She let out a small whimper when he dragged his fingers along her slit, his hand skilled and careful. Their tongues explored each other's mouth, his leaving hers to trail down her neck and stop just above one of her breasts. He gave a bit of an arrogant chuckle against her skin at the feeling of his hand that was now slick from her growing wetness.

"You're soaked, mi amor..." He drawls, voice muffled against her skin. "You're so eager for me, hm?"

She paid special attention to the tip of his cock as she continued to stroke him, his cock filling her hand as she drew more sounds out of him.

"Only for you," She breathes. "Please, Rafael..."

Their hearts are pounding, bodies basically trembling with need and anticipation. They can't wait any longer. The buildup to this moment was too long for them to hold back anymore. He took his cock from her and held one of her hips in his other hand as he positioned himself to her. He looks at her, his eyes dark with desire and body aching for her.

"Yeah?" He asked, giving her one final ditch effort if she had any hesitation about this at all.

She doesn't, of course. Her head nodding and voice soft as she gives him the go ahead.

"Yeah," She whispered. "Please."

Their moans almost harmonized when he pushed into her. They moaned the other's name in pure adoration and satisfaction. It was the most right feeling in the world, like they had been missing this moment all this time. Now it's her turn to shudder as she gets used to the feeling of him, which gave him the chance to get used to feeling her. They share kisses wherever they can get them, his hips pushing and pulling out of her slowly to ease her into it.

They're a perfect fit. He fit into her so exquisitely and she engulfed him flawlessly. He stretched her with each roll back into her, the feeling of her encasing him was so mouth watering that he couldn't stop the noises that were coming out of him.

She began to squirm after a few moments, her hips instinctively shifting to get more friction and speed from him. He started to fuck her at a faster pace, not even interested in teasing her or making her beg for it. He needed this just as much as her...if not more,

He pushed as far into her as he could go, her eyelashes fluttered when he hit a certain spot that made her toes curl. She leaned back onto her palms on his desk, head rolled back as the sounds of their session filled the room. Her waist began to meet his thrusts, their bodies fucking each other and giving the other what they needed.

He felt like he was losing control with every movement, every feeling of her around him. The intensity of their pleasure is almost too much to bear. His cock is soaked from her, spreading it to the insides of her thighs and the tops of his as he continued to pound into her.

There's a slight shake in her arms and legs, both from the adrenaline of this moment and the anticipation leading up to it. She lowers her upper half flat on his desk, her body stretched out and on display in front of him. She's getting rocked into the top of his desk, her moans and whimpers like music to his ears.

He wondered for a moment how much the desk could take. This was a first, and the creaks that sounded from the desk being used like this were loud and proof that it wasn't built for this. He didn't rightly care - if this was how he broke and destroyed his desk, then so be it.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. It felt like a disservice to her and himself to even look away for a moment. She was too beautiful and too perfect not to take in at every moment.

"I can't get enough of you," He gasped, his voice ragged and thick. "Oh, fuck..."

She made noises at every movement and he groaned at everything she did. They were more alive right now than they had ever been. And it occurred to them that this is going to be their new normal. They could have this whenever they wanted.

His thoughts ran wild as they moved together, pleasure and bliss overtook his mind completely. He could hardly think of anything past her — the way she felt and looked beneath him, the sounds she made, the way her body fit against his perfectly. She was everything in this moment, and all he wanted was to make her feel good.

"Raf, you...you feel so good." She could hardly get the words out, her head so foggy and fuzzy as he continued to pump into her.

He studied her face - her eyes fluttering, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen. He groaned at the sight, his hands rested on her hips with a firm grip as he started to guide her movements and pull her onto his cock as he fucked into her. Her back arched off the desk at that point, her body overwhelmed in the best way at this deep kind of pleasure. He watched his cock go in and out of her, glistening and totally pumped full of blood and energy.

His cock twitched inside her when she pulsed around him, a burning coil in his gut growing stronger. He knew that in more normal circumstances, he would've wanted to take more time with her. But for tonight, this was more than enough. He reached for her, yanking her up off the desk and pressing her chest to his. He wanted her close when they hit their highs. He kissed her hard, their noises random and sloppy as they grew closer to their end.

"Shit-" She cursed, her voice pitchy and raw as her lips brushed against his. "Rafael, I'm-"

"I know," He cut her off, catching her in a quick kiss as he feels his orgasm start to overtake his senses. "Me too."

Her hands are on either side of his neck, pressing his forehead to hers as he fucked her into her finish first, her legs tightening around him as she cries out into her climax. Her vision tunnels as she finishes, her entire body tensing into it as he gives into his own release, her name falling out of his mouth in a strained whisper. He held her close, his head buried into the crook of her neck as his spend shoots and spills onto her thighs, some leaking off of her and dripping onto the desk.

Their bodies are still pressed together, their chests heaving up and down as they tried to get their breathing to return to normal. He couldn't believe this was real. He never thought today would end up like this, with her coming off of her pleasure high and wrapped around him like this. Her legs still have a minor tremble to them, completely weak and worn out. She smiled at him when she pulled her head back to look at him, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"You okay?" She asked eventually, still a bit breathless as she looked down at the mess created by them.

"Yeah," He nodded, a grin on his face. "I'm more than okay. You?"

"I'm good," She agreed, their eyes meeting again. Hers sparkled and his were bright - they were over the moon right now. They only looked at each other for a few moments, their minds still racing and thick with ecstasy. "I...I don't know what to say."

He can't help but laugh. Truthfully, they still had a lot to discuss in terms of where they were going from here. But they had a good idea of what this meant for them. This hadn't strained or damaged their relationship in any way. If anything, it was a good first step into being more...official. So for tonight, he didn't mind just enjoying the moment.

"You don't have to say anything. Let's get you cleaned up and just..." He sighed, his grin unbreakable. "Enjoy it."

"You're right," She returned a smile. "Besides, there will be plenty of time for us to talk, huh?"

He nodded, his hands resting on the sides of her thighs as he took in this stunning picture of her.

"Of course. Plenty of time for talk...and much more."

This meant the world to them. This was a long time coming, and now that it was actually happening, it was much sweeter than they could've imagined. They're more than glad to make this a regular thing. For her to be a part of his every day in a new way...a better way for both of them.

[storiesofsvu]

Cocoa

Amanda Rollins x reader warnings: none? brief mention of pet abandonment. all cutesy fluff. Man. I rarely ever get requests for Amanda, and every time I do I am reminded of HOW MUCH I LOVE HER. More justice and love for Ms Rollins please. I need to think of more ideas for her. Love Amanda? Sign up for the taglist here! Got an idea for a story? Send it on in here!

1.4k

Even though you missed the jingling of Amanda’s keys in the hallway you knew she was a few steps from the front door at the way Frannie’s head popped up, looking over the back of the couch at the incoming noise. After a couple of sniffs she seemed satisfied, plopping her head back down beside you, continuing to chew on her bone. You gave her a little scratch behind the ears and let out a breath, your pulse quickening at the sound of Amanda’s keys in the lock.

She opened the door to find you on the couch, television turned on to Bluey as you were (presumably) cooing to Frannie.

“Oh, that’s it.” You laughed softly, “such a good girl. Okay, ohhkkay, ssssh.” Your hand reached out to pet her as she let out a low whine. “I know, I know. She’s home now, okay.”

“Awee.” Amanda let out a chuckle, “did someone miss me?” She whistled quietly, “c’mere girl.”

Frannie popped up on the opposite end of the couch from where you were facing, quickly jumping down and trotting over to her mom to say hello. At first, distracted, Amanda didn’t notice, cooing at her dog as she gave her a very welcoming pet and big scratch. Her ears picked up another whine that definitely wasn’t human and her head titled back up to catch you with a sheepish look on your face.

“So… if Frannie is over here…”

“That was… my stomach?” You offered with a wince and Amanda let out a small scoff of a laugh. She straightened up, letting out a small sigh as whatever you were hiding on the other side of the couch let out a yip.

“Sounds like you haven’t eaten all day.” Her hands fell to her hips, “what’d you do?”

“I… did not do anything.” You made a little kissing noise and the other dog finally popped up into Amanda’s sight line over the back of the couch. It looked like a chocolate lab, big enough to look like a fully grown dog but small enough Amanda knew it was likely still just a big puppy. You cupped its head in your hands, making more kissing noises as it sniffed at your face as your voice slipped into puppy dog mode. “But some big meanie left this gorgeous angel in the alley way.” You turned to look at her, “I told you I heard something crying last night. Bastard left her outside in the storm all night tied to the damn dumpster. I saw her when I went out this morning.”

“Are you absolutely sure someone wasn’t coming back for her?” Amanda asked, slowly approaching the back of the couch as you went back to playing with the dog.

“Yes.” You nodded, nodding the dog’s head in your hands as you did so, “yes, I am.” You looked back to your girlfriend, “I went back down with some food and water right away, she was super friendly and just wanted some love. I left her all afternoon just in case, it was already getting dark and the poor thing starting crying again. Frannie and I just couldn’t bare listening to it anymore.” Your lips formed a pout and Amanda could almost see the glistening of tears starting in your eyes, “when I went back down she was just so happy to see us! Instant friends with this one, I tell ya.” Your hand reached out to give Frannie a little scratch. “Then I found the note on her collar…”

“Someone really just left her?” It was her turn to pout, finally reaching out, letting the dog sniff the back of her hand, giving it a few licks before she scratched her behind the ears.

“Yeah. Note said she was a Christmas present for the kids, but the kids weren’t ‘doing their chores’ of taking care of her and the family didn’t want her anymore.” You said the last part in just over a whisper as you covered the dogs ears, “she’s house trained, no issues and is up to date on all her shots and stuff. Though I did make an appointment with the vet for tomorrow just in case.”

“Baby…” Amanda’s head tilted and you let out a sigh at what you knew must be coming. “We can’t keep her.”

“Why not?!” You whined and Amanda nearly laughed as both the new dog and Frannie let out whines in practically the same pitch as all three of you stared up at her.

“We… already have Frannie.” She gestured, “and I work late hours. I feel guilty enough leaving one dog cooped up in a one bedroom apartment all day.”

“I work from home like, eighty percent of the time, you wouldn’t have to worry about us. Besides, another big dog means another level of protection.” You countered, “you always say you wish I was safer out at night, or when you’re working overnights. Can’t get much safer than this.” You gestured to your lap which was slowly being taken over by both dogs, Frannie nuzzling at ear while the other one licked your cheek.

“She does really seem to like you.” The blonde replied, chewing on her lip.

“They get along perfectly too!” You bartered, gesturing to the dogs as you picked up a toy, swinging it between them before tossing it down the hall and they both ran off, instantly starting to play with each other like they’d grown up together. “See? Instant best friends. You can’t deny Frannie that.”

“Oh my god.” Amanda laughed, running a hand over her face. “What happens when you’re out for a walk and the kids see their dog and come crying wanting it back?”

“Note said they live in Staten Island, left her here so that wouldn’t happen.”

“They seriously drove all that way to dump her in the garbage? When there’s plenty of shelters all around the city?” She wasn’t just frustrated, she was pissed now, a feeling the dog could sense as it jogged down the hallway and went right up to Amanda, nudging at her legs until it was getting pets, “oh you poor thing.”

You knew it, a smile creeping up on your lips as Amanda crouched down to actually greet the dog and her face instantly melted. The look of love and adoration immediately taking over her eyes as she cooed at the dog who nuzzled as deep into her as it could.

“Oh, you’re a good girl.” She cooed, “such a sweet girl. What’s your name, hmm?”

“Cocoa.” You replied, and the dog let out a quiet bark.

Amanda stood back up with a small sigh, glancing between the two dogs who immediately started playing together again before looking over at you.

“Puh-leeeeaaase.” You pulled an overdramatic pout and faked crying.

“You are worse than a child, you know that?”

“At least I have my own source of income to support Cocoa and now we’ll each have one to walk when we take them out. I mean, Manda… look at them. They’re so happy, she’s so much happier not being tied to a dumpster in the rain… you’re not going to ruin that, are you?”

“Wow.” She laughed, rounding around the couch to drop down beside you.

“Well?” You batted your eyelashes, “yes?”

“Fine.” She finally agreed with a small smile and you let out a shriek, launching toward her to pepper her face with kisses.

The noise alone was enough to pull both of the dog’s attention, barks echoing through the apartment as they jumped back up onto the couch, jumping on the both of you, cold noses and wet kisses getting everywhere they could.

“Okay, okay.” Amanda laughed, gently pushing Frannie down onto her lap, “you win, you win.” She booped her nose, “you got a new sister, happy?” Frannie agreed with a small woof, rubbing her head into Amanda’s hands.

“You hear that?” You cooed to Cocoa, scratching underneath her chin, “you get to stay! Welcome home Cocoa.”

You looked back to Amanda with such love and happiness in your eyes that she knew there was never a way in a million years she would have actually said no to the whole thing. She loved you too much, loved seeing you happy too much and this way Frannie would have someone to play with when no one was home.

It was a win win for everyone.

__________________

@mickey-gomez @hbkpop @bisexualcrowley @red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @altsvu @lesbianspacecowboy @wannabe-fic-reader @gaylorrds @beccabarba @mysticfalls01 @alexbllake @infernumlilith @australiancarisi @wandas-wife @emskisworld @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @sia2raw @dxtery @anlin2058 @itisdoctortoyousir @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @7thavenger @m00nkn1ghts @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @desperate-gay @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @noahrex @temp0rary-bliss @wittygutsy

[naturesapphic]

A much needed break

Olivia benson x fem!reader

Warnings: smut

Olivia hasn’t come home yet and you were worried. She hasn’t been home in days, saying something about finishing some paperwork she was extremely behind on. Of course you understand how important work is for her, even if she’s just doing paperwork, but a lot of the times, she overworks herself to where she exhausts herself. That’s why you are going to the precinct to check on her and make sure she’s okay.

You walked in holding a container of leftovers for her since she probably only had coffee and junk food from the vending machines. Walking to where her desk is, you see Olivia typing away on her computer. She looks up when she realizes someone was in the same room as her and her face immediately brightens when she sees you. “Sweetheart? What are you doing here?” She questioned as she stood up from her chair and walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “I wanted to come check on you. I brought you dinner too.” You said and she smiles as she gave you a loving kiss on the top of your head.

“Thank you babygirl.” She said and you leaned up to give her nose a gentle kiss which made her blush. She walked back over to her desk with her arm around you and her dinner in her other hand. She sat back down in her chair and she patted her lap for you which you gladly sat on. She was explaining to you some stuff that happened in the past few cases as she ate her dinner. “I’m sorry I haven’t came home. I know I should have. I’m just super stressed and I know that’s not an excuse. Trust me. I miss you so much sweetheart.” She sighed as she explained. You know how hard for her it is to be so open, but she’s been letting down her walls more and more for you.

“I understand baby. Work is important to you and I get that.” You explained as you ran your fingers through her brown hair that was slowly growing out. “What did I do to deserve you?” She asked with a true loving look in her eyes and you blushed. “I should be asking you the same thing.” You shot back at her with a smirk and she smirked back at you. She leaned up and took your lips in hers in a passionate but loving kiss. You moan softly against her lips and wrapped your legs around her waist until your clit hit her pants buckle and you let out a little moan again. She pulled back slightly and gave you a evil smirk.

“What’s the matter babygirl? Are you needy right now?” She asked against your ear and you whimpered loudly which gave her the answer but she wanted you to say it. “Say it sweetheart.” She demanded and you blushed bright red. “P-please livia…I need you so bad…it’s been a week since you fucked me and I need you so much.” You begged her and you saw her eyes darken with lust which made you even wetter. “As you wish darling.” She stated and she bunched up your sundress so she could see your underwear that was practically ruined in your fluids. “My oh my…look at this pretty pussy…”. She stated in a low voice which made you feel hot all over.

She slowly runs her hands over your body and yanks your dress off over your head. You giggle at her frantic antics and she smiles at the sound. Her eyes rake over your soft and gorgeous body, admiring it. “Come on sweetheart. Rub that pretty pussy on my belt buckle until you cum. You whimpered and started grinding onto her buckle and moaned at the sensation. Olivia’s hands are on your hips guiding you as she watches your pussy. She bites her lips and feels herself drooling at the look of you. “Come on darling…keep using mommy…that’s it…”. She praised you and you felt your legs shaking as you felt yourself already cumming. You let out a loud strung out moan and cummed all over her belt and pants.

She immediately pushed the chair out of the way and got down on her knees and buried her face in your warm, throbbing, wet pussy. You squealed at how fast she attached her lips onto you and you screw your eyes shut at the intense pleasure you are feeling. “F-fuck! Olivia!” You moaned out and she threw one of your legs on her shoulder and entered her warm, long tongue deep into your throbbing hole and your knees buckled almost falling but Olivia didn’t let that happen. “Fuck! Fuck!” You moaned out and soon enough you were cumming again but this time into her waiting mouth.

“You always taste so good. I’m addicted to your pussy sweetheart.” She admitted and you smiled at her. She gently laid you out on her desk and sat back on her chair as she dove back into you again. You whimpered loudly at the sensitivity that was rising but all you could think in this moment was your badass, loving, detective girlfriend eating you out like she was having her last meal on earth. She penetrated her tongue into you again and started rubbing your clit with her thumb. You were arching your back and your legs were shaking as you orgasmed again. She pulled away from your shaking legs and smiled down at you. “You’re so beautiful Angel.” She said sweetly and you gave her a tired smile. She licks her lips and wipes the edge of her mouth with her index finger and thumb.

“Do you think you could give me one more sweetheart?” She asked you as she gives you gentle kisses all over your face as she gently rubs over your body. You smiled and nodded at her but she raises her eyebrow and you know. “Yes liv…I can do one more…I want to be a good girl for you.” You stated and she gave you a soft look. “You are always my good girl sweetheart.” She said softly as she looked at you with such an adoring look. She gave you a long, loving kiss to your lips and reached into her drawer to pull out her harness that was attached with a 7 inch dildo that she loves to use on you. “You ready babygirl?” She asked you. “Yes…please…” you whined out and she chuckled at you.

She rests her hands on either side of your body on her desk as she gently slides in your pussy. She bottoms out and waits for you to say that you are ready before she starts. “G-green livia…” you stated and she gave you a loving smile. Olivia pumps into you a few times and you moaned out at the feeling of being full. “That’s it babygirl…such a good girl for mommy…” she panted out as her pace quickens with every thrust. Both of her hands went up to your bare breast and started pinching your rosy pink nipples to give you extra stimulation. With every thrust, your breast moved against Olivia’s hand and that made her go crazy. She started fucking you faster and faster as she removed her hands and replaced them with her face. “A-ah! Mommy!” You moaned out and held her head with one hand as your other hand was on her back, bunching up her shirt material.

“I-I’m gonna c-cum!” You exclaimed and her eyes went up to your face and she gave you that look which meant don’t you even think about it. You whined and she gently bit your nipple in response as she reached down with her hand to start rubbing your clit with her fingers. After a few moments of her fucking you and you begging her to let you cum, she said one simple word that made you lose it. “Cum.” She demanded and you arched your back off her desk and squirted all over her pants and some on her shirt. She smiled and gently pulled out which made you whine at the feeling of being full. “Hey shhhh babygirl…it’s okay..I got you…” she said softly as she scoops you up into her arms and cradles you against her.

She sits back down in her office chair and carefully helps you get dressed while not putting back on your panties since they are ruined. After getting dressed, you snuggle up on her as she finishes some things on her computer before y’all go home and rest. “You did so well for me sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. When we get home we will do our aftercare and we can do whatever you want princess.” She explained and you looked up at her with an exhausted expression and gave her a gentle nod in response. “I love you sweetheart.” She said. “I love you most Olivia.” You said back to her.

A/n: I know this smut wasn’t good but I was horny and I’m on my period and I needed to get this out sldmdkckdksosk. Remember Christmas/winter requests are still open! Also remember to stay hydrated and rest! I love y’all!

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Panic! At the DA's Office

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: suicidal ideation, mental health struggle, anxiety/depression, panic attack, established relationship, fluff forever, some explicit language Word count: 2k

Summary: You're supposed to be meeting your girlfriend, Casey, for lunch, but prepping for the bar exam has you in an anxious spiral. You try to hide it, but it's hard to pretend you're okay when you're with Casey.

You stood on the subway platform, greasy Shake Shack takeout bags tucked under your arm. You'd told Casey you'd bring her lunch, and you were a woman of your word. Even though the bar exam was two weeks away. Even though you'd written so many practice essays you'd had to get a wrist splint for the cramps. Even though you were practically drowning in information about constitutional law, civil procedure, torts, contracts. You were exhausted from studying, and it felt like it was all for nothing. The more you studied, the more things seemed to get jumbled up in your mind. The more you'd stare at the page and the words would stare back, shifting and writhing until they meant nothing.

With each practice test, you felt less confident. As the day of the exam got closer and closer, your anxiety grew and grew. And you were so good at hiding it. You had to be good at it, or else how would you go on? How would the world keep on spinning, and you with it? Sometimes you wished it wouldn't. Not forever, not for always. You just wished that, for a little while, everything would stop. That just for a little while, no one would need or expect anything from you and you could just be. Or not be, maybe.

As you stood on the platform, waiting for the subway that would take you to the DA's office and your girlfriend you thought, briefly–as you sometimes did at your lowest–how easy it would be to jump. It would be so easy, so fast. But you had the warm food in your hands. You had Casey's milkshake. She loved milkshakes. And she would be so sad. It was always the thought of Casey's heartbreak that stopped you. Or imagining your dad crying. Imagining your parents having to tell your siblings what had happened.

You felt the rush of the subway as it sped past you and exhaled deeply. The moment was over. At least for now. You took a seat and did your best to steel yourself to see Casey. She was excellent at reading you, and you needed to be unreadable today. The last thing you wanted to do was worry her.

You walked the last bit of your journey in the freezing cold, appreciating the way the wind stung your eyes. It brought you out of yourself.

You saw Casey through the window before she saw you, and your heart surged. Just seeing her made you feel better. Not all the way better, but at least a little better. You knocked at her open door, and the look on her face when she saw you made your heart soar.

"Y/N!" she called, waving you in and shutting a notebook.

You were quiet. You didn't trust yourself to speak, afraid you might start crying. The downside of feeling so safe with Casey was that your usual ability to wall up your emotions was significantly impaired with her. You leaned down to kiss her quickly, and she wrapped her arms around your waist, burying her face in your chest.

"This case is killing me," she said as you pulled up a chair, divvying up the food. "I mean, the evidence they've given me is absolute shit. It's always fucking Stabler jumping the gun, and now I have to clean it up. Typical white man. So I think I'm gonna try..."

You let Casey ramble, grateful to hear her voice, to hear about her day, to have the excuse of food in your mouth to simply nod absentmindedly. But you couldn't manage to eat much, mostly pushing ketchup around with your fries and trying to white-knuckle through the panic rising in your chest. Your heart pumped faster and faster, and you were trying so hard to breathe normally, even though you felt like you were suffocating.

"Y/N?" Casey said, snapping you out of it.

"What?" Your voice was shaky, and you avoided her eyes. If she saw your eyes, she'd know.

"I just asked how bar prep was going..." She looked you over, furrowing her eyebrows. "Are you okay?"

You needed to breathe before you could speak, but when you opened your mouth to try, your breath hitched, hiccuping and separating into hyperventilation.

"Y– yes," you replied, clearly not okay, as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and your breath came in short gasps. It was as if all the anxiety of the last few days, all you'd bottled up and kept at bay, had come flooding in all at once, knocking the air out of you.

"Okay, well, that's obviously a lie," Casey observed, standing quickly to close the blinds and lock the door. She sighed as she sat back down, mentally beating herself up for not noticing that something was off when you came in.

"Come here, honey." She pulled your chair toward her, grabbing your clenched fists in her hands and forcing them flat.

You were rocking and hyperventilating at this point. Your heartbeat was so fast and loud it was almost all you could hear. If you hadn't had panic attacks before, you would have thought you were dying. You knew better: you were dying, but only on the inside.

Casey pressed her forehead to yours and breathed slowly, in and out, in and out.

"Breathe with me, sweetheart, come on," she said softly.

"I– I c-can't."

"Yes, you can, honey. Come on."

You took a big, shaky breath and let it out, coughing.

"That's it, baby, that's it. Just keep going. Just breathe."

After what felt like an eternity, your heartbeat started to slow. You paired your breathing with Casey's, shaking slightly. She ran her thumbs over your knuckles in rhythm with your breath, and you felt an icy calm settle over you, the same calm that comes after an adrenaline rush, all that hot terror seeping away.

You exhaled and lifted your head a bit, avoiding Casey's eyes.

"Sorry."

She shook her head, fixing your hair and wiping away that tears that lingered on the bottoms of your eyelids.

"Don't be sorry."

But you were. You were so sorry. Your panic attack might have subsided, but the sense of being a burden had only increased. You wanted to sit on Casey's lap. You wanted her arms around you. You wanted her to tell you that she loved you, that she needed you, that you weren't too much for her. But all of that felt like too much to ask for, so you just sat, arms wrapped around yourself.

"Will you tell me what's going on?" Casey asked gently.

You felt more tears coming and dashed them away.

"It's just everything," you said, the words spilling out in a flood. "I'm doing terrible on the practice exams, Casey. Terrible. I'm gonna fail the fucking bar exam, and then what!? What was it all even for? I just can't do it! I can't! Every time I sit down to study I feel like I'm gonna die, and I can't start because I'm too anxious, but then I don't study and I just get more anxious. I'm just– I'm not good enough!"

Your voice broke, and Casey's heart broke with it.

"I'm not good enough for you, and I– I don't want to do this. It's not worth it, I'm not worth it." You grasped your hair and groaned. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't even here. Today I even thought about jumping in front of the fucking subway. I'd never do it," you added, noticing Casey's alarm. "But it just... feels like it'd be easier for everyone, including me, if I wasn't around."

Your head was in your hands. You couldn't see it, but Casey looked devastated, her heart surging for you. She grabbed you up and pulled your body into hers until you were on her lap, her arms wrapped tightly around you.

"Oh, honey," she breathed, pressing her face into yours. "Please don't say things like that. Do you know how empty life would be if you weren't here?"

You shrugged your shoulders, sniffling

"Who would bring me milkshakes?"

You giggled.

"Who would sing loud with me in the car, huh? Who would make laugh so hard I snort?"

You smiled, moments with Casey flashing through your mind, some of the happiest moments of your life.

"Who would make me feel loved and safe and proud, if you weren't here?"

"Somebody would," you argued.

She cupped your face and looked you hard in the eyes. "No. Not like you do."

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not. I don't just say things, you know that," Casey reprimanded you. She placed small, warm kisses on your cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, the corner of your mouth, until you were laughing and squinting.

"You," she continued, "are generous and brave and kind and funny and sweet and so, so beautiful. And the world would be a lot darker without you in it."

Your chest buzzed with warmth, like stepping outside on an unexpectedly sunny day or coming downstairs on Christmas morning.

"I don't know about that," you protested, but Casey had successfully beaten back your blues. And she could tell.

"Well, my world would be anyway," she chuckled.

You placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth before returning to your seat, reaching for a french fry.

"Now you're hungry," Casey said, rolling her eyes.

You glanced at the clock. "I thought you had a meeting?"

"I do."

You froze, but Casey was quick to reassure you.

"It's okay! Not a big deal for me to be a few minutes late, I promise."

You relaxed, taking a sip of Casey's milkshake. She snatched the cup back.

"I thought I told you to get your own milkshake."

"Well, I just wanted a little bit!" you whined.

"That's what you always say, and you always drink half of mine."

You flashed her your most charming smile, and she sighed, handing you the cup. You tried not to look too smug as you sipped.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" you said, dripping with sarcasm. "Probably can't take a milkshake to your fancy lawyer meeting."

"I do have somewhere to be, but I need you to do something for me before I go."

"Oh." You sat up a little straighter. "Okay. What?"

"I need you to call your therapist," she stated, staring at you pointedly.

"Case, I'm fi–"

"No, you're not," she cut you off. "If you're having thoughts like you said you were, you need to talk to her."

You sighed and nodded. "Okay. I'll call."

Casey didn't budge.

"Casey," you needled. "You can go. I will call."

She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back in her chair, stance wide, looking like a hot Wall Street businessman in her work suit. She could make you do anything when she looked like that, and she knew it.

"Fine." You picked up your phone, scrolled through the contacts, and found your therapist, flipping the screen around to show Casey the contact info before pressing the call button.

"Speaker," Casey commanded.

"You're fucking bossy, you know that?"

Your therapist didn't pick up–probably in a session–but you left a message.

"Hey, Carla, this is Y/N. Just kind of having a rough day... slash week slash time in general, and I was wondering if you could squeeze me in maybe earlier than my session next week? Like maybe..."

"TODAY," Casey whispered aggressively.

"...even today or tomorrow if you've got anything open. Thanks, bye."

You rolled your eyes. "Happy now?"

"Mmhm." Casey stood, picked up her briefcase, and bent to kiss you on the head. "I gotta run, but let me know what your therapist says, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed, suddenly feeling embarrassed again.

"Hey," she said, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at her. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

She planted a firm kiss on your lips before opening the door.

"You can stay in here and work if you want. When I come back, we can work together."

"Okay," you said, already feeling better about an afternoon of studying. If Casey was there, it couldn't be too bad.

"I love you so much I'll even let you have the rest of my milkshake," she called back as she walked down the hallway.

You shook your head and took a sip, feeling better than you had in weeks.

[rqgnarok]

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

[mortalscience]

ten caps per episode - Law and Order Criminal Intent - s01e09 - The Good Doctor

Bad guy: You stupid idiots. Eames: Sticks and stones.