#amanda rollins imagine

[cathrrrine]

how the svu characters would react to you pranking them by texting “i miss being single”

Sonny Carisi

Amanda Rollins

Nick Amaro

Casey Novak

Alex Cabot

Rafael Barba

Olivia Benson

Fin Tutuola

Elliot Stabler

[teddykisser]

Protective & Possessive

Part 2 to Our Little Family

Beautiful Things

Captain Olivia Benson x Pregnant Female Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, Kissing, Fluff, Mean Remarks, Secret Pregnancy, Protective Rolline, Posessive Reader, Massage, Dead Bodies, Suggestive Themes, Horny Reader, Brief D/S Dynamic Mention, Slight Smut Towards End.

You were back at work the next day. Your lunch break spent in Olivia's office. You rested your hands on your stomach, in awe that there was really a baby in there.

Olivia sat at her desk, admiring you. A soft smile was present on her face as you touched your stomach. Olivia herself was still in shock that you were pregnant.

She gently turned your head back up to meet hers, giving you a sweet kiss before pulling away and looking at you. "Are you sure you're okay?" She asked softly, still holding your waist.

Her gaze fell onto you.

"Mhm, better get back out there.." You nodded, beginning to detach yourself from her arms.

"I'll see you later, sweetheart. Let me know if you need anything." Olivia added.

You closed the door behind you as you watched Rollins return from her break.

"Hi Y/N" She smiled, sitting at her desk.

"Hey Manda, what's new?" You spoke, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"There's been a break in the case" Munch interrupted.

As Munch briefed the team, Olivia focused on the work in front of her. She was only half paying attention to what was going on. She was still thinking about earlier, thinking about you being pregnant with her child. The thought alone filled her with warmth. She knew this would be something she'd be thinking about for the rest of the day.

The case required the team to go into the field. Olivia grabbed her coat and bag to follow everyone else into action. The case wasn't too bad, thankfully. She walked with the team, making sure to keep an eye on you throughout. She couldn't help but be a bit protective, especially knowing that you were now carrying a baby, her baby.

There was a dead body that had been dead for a few days so it had a rancid smell. You tried to resist gagging and keep your composure. This action didn't go unnoticed by Liv.

She saw your expression as you saw the body and inched closer to you. Olivia placed her hand on your back, rubbing it gently. "You okay, dear?" She asked. She didn't want you to be too stressed, especially now. She was a bit concerned for your health.

"Y-Yeah.. it's just the s-smell" You admitted, whispering in her ear. You didn't want the rest of the team to know the news just yet. Didn't wanna jinx it.

Olivia nodded and kept a hand on your back, gently rubbing circles with her thumb, trying to comfort you. "Oh. My love.. It's going to be alright. Just breathe for me, okay?" She knew the next few months wouldn't be easy for you but it will be so worth it.

"You alright, Y/N? It's not your first dead body, is it?" Munch remarked, his eyes judging you.

Olivia looked up, her eyes glared at the other detective. This wasn't the time or place for jokes. She moved her hand from your back, instead putting it on your stomach, rubbing it softly. "It's alright," she reassured you, ignoring the other detective's comment.

"You know she's one of the younger agents leave her alone" Rollins spoke, referring to your age. Rollins was very motherly to you, and protective of you so she came to your rescue.

"Thank you, Amanda" Olivia turned to Rollins, giving her a nod. She hated when her teammates made comments that were just insensitive. She knew they didn't mean to be rude, but now was certainly not the time. The captain kept her hand on your stomach, rubbing it gently.

"In public?" You mouthed, refering to Liv's hand caressing your stomach. You didn't want your team to find out and this was a dead giveaway.

Olivia knew what you meant. She couldn't help but feel a bit protective and wanted everyone to know, but she also wasn't quite ready for anyone to know yet. She knew it would only be a matter of time before someone put the pieces together. "You're doing so well, don't worry about the others." She whispered, trying to reassure you.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The team had returned back to the office, wrapping up the case. You were in Olivia's office, relaxing. The team knew of your relationship with the captain but they didn't know that you two were trying to have a child.

Olivia's hovered behind you, her hands working the knots in your shoulder. "You're so tense, my love.." Olivia spoke softly.

You closed your eyes, lending your hand back slightly. A quiet groan escaped from your lips.

"That's it baby, let it all out" Olivia encouraged. Her lips ghosted your neck.

"You're such a good girl, my best girl" She praised.

You stood up, backing Liv against the wall. Your gaze darkened, you bit your lip as your hand found it's way around her neck.

"Shh.. Gotta keep quiet Captain.." You smirked, you sucked on the skin on her neck, taking it between your teeth.

"Mine" You whimpered against her.

Olivia couldn't lie, she was turned on by your possessiveness, and slightly curious of where it came from. She wasn't complaining though.

"B-baby.. we're a-at work" She reminded you, trying to keep her composure and not submit to you. She didn't want to give up her power but God you felt so good against her.

"Mmm.. don't you want this Liv.." Yiu mumbled against her, your other hand snaked down to her stomach, resting just below her pants.

"We're still at work, we'll have time for this later." Olivia added gently, pulling your face away from her neck.

"Benson! Y/L/N!" A voice exclaimed from the briefing room.

Olivia jumped, pulling away from you. She straightened her shirt and ran a hand through her hair to mess it around a bit so there wasn't as much evidence of what had just happened.

[p3ndeja6]

₊ ⊹🪻 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🔮

n.amaro x reader

summary: you were younger then nick by a couple of years, and sometimes he’d come over to your apartment after late nights at the precinct, he’d come over to just enjoy peace and serenity

content: fluff, reader is in school (2nd or 3rd year of college) suggestive acts (nothing extreme), age gap!, mentions of sexual abuse due to svu cases, nothing too triggering, just a fluffy one shot overall

super short

✧ ✧

it was late at night, you were working on an essay that was due by the end of the week.. you were getting strained and decided to take a break and call it a day.

You made yourself a quick meal, spicy buldak noodles, a sandwich and your favorite drink that was saved in the fridge. You prepared your meal as you were watching your favorite show. you were almost done preparing your late-night snack when you heard the doorknob shake.

You lived a pretty safe vicinity so the chances of a burgler were slim, but you still were vigilant about your safety, you quickly grabbed your broom and held it tight.

Upon your discovery, the door opened and you saw your boyfriend… nick.

You sighed of relief, and he looked at you worried

“Jesus Nick, you scared me!” “geez sorry, i thought this neighbor was safe?”

you put the broom down, “I mean it is but you never know” “yeah.. tell me about it”

he walked to you as you went back in finishing preparing your ramen, he went behind you and grabbed you hips and nuzzled his head in between your neck, kissing you, making you giggle due to his stubble

he continued and you moved your head slightly to give him more access, he took this as a sign to continue. You tried not to get distracted but you let a soft moan escape.

he laughed,and started moving up your body; cupping your boobs. You laughed and finally pushed him away

“stop Nick” you laughed “I want to eat, I’ve been working on an assignment for the past 5 hours.” he let go and laughed “my hard working girl, okay okay I’ll let you eat but next time, you’re all mine!”

you shook your head in sarcasm, he took of his jacket and unbuttoned his white shirt a couple of buttons down, and took off his shoes. He adjusted himself on your couch, and laid there with his eyes closed taking in the aroma therapy essential oils diffuser thats going around your room.

you look at him, now realizing that he’s here strangely. Nick stops by late nights most weekends or if it’s a weekday he’ll let you know earlier in the day if he’s stopping by, but it’s currently a Tuesday at 12:36 am.

“hey Nick?”

he hummed in response, most likely getting sleepy

“not to sound rude or anything.. but why are you here? It’s late on a Tuesday night, shouldn’t you be at your place?”

He opened one eye and looked over at you

“do you not want me here?” He said a bit suspicious

“oh god, no like yeah I do, but I just realized what day it was and you know you usually let me know when you’re coming over and it’s usually weekends you spend the night with me, I just found it odd you came to visit me tonight” “I love it when you’re here really”

you finally finished your ramen and took it towards the couch where Nick was, and started eating as you waited for a response.

he was hesitant in his answer, he seemed stressed and frustrated.

“today we had a tough case.. a rape case..”

you look at him attentively, making sure you are hearing him and that he has your fullest attention.

you nod in continuous

“and well… it’s about a 8 year old girl who’s after school teacher has been acting inappropriately with her.. you know like touching her where she shouldn’t be touched”

“oh my god” was what you let out

“yeah, and her home life isn’t easy, this one was a bit tough to work on dude to how young and bright this little girl is. I hate to see anyone take it away from her”

you put your ramen down and get close to him, caressing his hand.

“and being here.. with you just brings me peace. All is perfect here, so sorry i came unexpected but i really needed to see you”

you smiled at him

“awe baby, you know you are always welcomed here, I love having you here, never goes a day where I don’t miss you”

you make him look at you and caress his cheek, looking so attentively at his eyes, leaning in and kissing him so gracefully.

he takes you in, and guides a hand on your neck. You move to his lap and continue to kiss him, sucking on each others lips, and you slightly grinding on him

he groans a bit and you continue to bit his lip. You pull away with his lip in between your teeth and stare at him and run a finger across his now plumped lips

“thank you for coming over”

“thank you for having me”

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Forever and Always

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

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

Warnings: None. Just good old fluff.

Masterlist

Prompt List

Our Family

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

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

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

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

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

“Sook,” you teased.

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

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

“Fine, I’ll tell Finn,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

“I hate detectives,” Rafael muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When are you planning to pop the question?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you seen the ring?” you asked.

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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

[nophunleague]

stare decisis: chapter fourteen - caeruleum

caeruleum: latin for blue

masterlist

wc: 1323

rafael barba x original female character

“Barba! Nice of you to show up!” Liv greets the ADA as he joins the squad that is standing around a bar height table. It’s the NYPD’s Annual Gala; the DA’s office was highly encouraged to attend. 

The well dressed attorney has topped his usual attire with a smart tuxedo in accordance with the general dress code for the evening. 

“I didn’t really have a choice,” he responds to Liv and places the glass of scotch he had ordered from the bar on the way in on the table. 

“Where’s your other half?” Rollins raises her voice to ask her question across the table, referring to Ms. Brady. I wouldn’t really describe her as my other half, he thinks to himself. They haven’t really had a meaningful conversation since their little spat a week and a half ago. 

“Ms. Brady? Haven’t seen her since I left the office this afternoon, but considering we were basically ordered to be here tonight she should be here soon.” 

The squad continues to converse, Barba even notices Tucker being a little too friendly with Liv but attempts to erase thoughts of them together from his mind. 

That would never happen, right? 

Barba has his back to the entrance and stares aimlessly into his rocks glass; begging for the scotch he’s drinking to speed the passage of time for the night. He’s pulled from his thoughts by Amaro remarking about someone’s looks. He looks up to see the Amaro, Rollins, Carisi, and Fin (who were facing him) looking squarely over the top of his head. 

“She cleans up well. Um, really really well,” Carisi practically has drool dripping from his mouth, Rollins elbows him in the ribs making some comment about the person of interest being out of his league. 

“NYPD Blue - in its truest form,” Amaro’s tongue wets his lower lip, thankfully drool doesn’t literally escape his mouth; and this time it’s Fin’s elbow inserting itself into Amaro’s ribcage. Rafael rolls his eyes at this spectacle but downs the last mouthful of scotch in his glass before turning around to face this supposedly unbelievably beautiful person. 

His green eyes fall on the woman in question, by now she’s descending the staircase. Her red hair is down, styled in loose waves like an old Hollywood starlet, the ones closest to her face on her left are pinned back above her ear. Rafael’s mouth suddenly grows dry as his eyes comb her figure, much more subtly than Carisi and Amaro though. 

The gown she is wearing is royal blue, the flowy material moves gently with her every step, the bodice fits her waist snugly and compliments her chest beautifully. The neckline is square, straight across the top of her breasts, thin straps hang on her shoulders. A scarf matching the color and material of the dress graces her neck, both ends of the scarf falling freely down her back. She holds the front of the dress up slightly while walking down the steps, showing the silver heels that match her silver clutch and jewelry. 

Quinn freaking Brady. 

Barba feels a warmth dust his cheeks, he too, is taken aback by her appearance. 

Actually, he’s kind of enthralled by it. 

To avoid any awkward confrontation with his coworker he excuses himself to get a refill of scotch as Quinn nears the squad. 

Liv watches as Quinn’s eyes follow the attorney as he stalks away, but in the blink of an eye Quinn has a smile on her face and is enthusiastically greeting the squad. 

“Counselor, you are breathtaking,” Fin takes the opportunity to be the first to compliment her. A red flush warms her cheeks as she thanks him, and the rest of the squad as they muse their concurrences. 

“Oh this old thing?” She sets her clutch onto the tabletop, as she retrieves her hand a glass of scotch is set in it, snapping her head to gifter she meets Barba’s green eyes. “Thank you,” their eyes only meet fleetingly before they both turn back to the group. “You all look wonderful!”

They mingle for a while as a group before Chief Dodds whisks Liv off to talk to NYPD brass, Carisi wanders off to bother various ADAs, Fin hides in a corner, and Nick and Rollins get up to what is surely no good. Barba and Quinn’s eyes meet again but before they speak two voices are joining them. 

“ADAs Barba and Brady! I want you to meet Judge Deacon McDonald. He’s a judge for the Second Circuit. Judge, these are my ADAs for Manhattan Special Victims” Jack McCoy thrusts a federal judge right at the two Assistant District Attorneys. 

“Your Honor, very nice to meet you. Your opinion in Jensen v. United States obviously not only made it easier for us to argue those specific evidentiary arguments but I think in the long run leads to more justice being served for the types of victims that Ms. Brady and I work with,” Barba jumps into politicking while Quinn sips her scotch with a sickly polite smile on her face as she nods along to the men’s conversation. She’s staring cross-eyed into her almost empty class before a hand gently places itself on her arm and pulls her from the judge and attorney. The arm is connected to an older man, NYPD no doubt. 

“Ms. Brady, I’m SVU Chief William Dodds, we haven’t had the chance to formally meet yet,” he grabs her hand in a strong handshake. 

“Oh Chief Dodds, I’ve heard a lot about you,” which is true.

“Bad things for sure,” the older man smirks, “I wanted to introduce you to my son, Sergeant Mike Dodds,” Quinn cuts him off.

“Oh, Chief, I-,” but he keeps talking.

“He’s with the Street Crime Unit right now but he’s got his eyes set on Joint Terrorism and I know you have experience with national security and anti-terrorism measures. I think he would love to pick your brain about that,” he looks over her shoulder and waves someone over. 

“Mike, this is ADA Quinn Brady, Manhattan Special Victims. Ms. Brady, my son, Sergeant Mike Dodds,” the brunette young man’s forehead is creased with stress and he rolls his eyes in embarrassment at his father. The attorney and sergeant stand across from each other without saying anything. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Chief Dodds excuses himself and resumes his own politicking. 

“I have to apologize about him, he’s keen to get me where he wants me to be,” Mike holds his hand out for a shake which Quinn obliges.

“No harm, no foul Sergeant. He saved me from my co-counsel kissing a federal judge’s ass,” she shrugs and takes the last gulp of her second glass of scotch. “So your father said Joint Terrorism is your end goal, what made you decide that?” might as well pass the time with a conversation. The glass of beer in Mike’s hand keeps him company.

“I was Army Special Forces in Iraq and Afghanistan, so once I got back stateside it felt like the only thing that made sense - just got to earn my way there,” he shrugs and takes another sip of beer.

“How long have you been home?” Her eyes soften realizing that they’ve had similar past lives. 

“Six years now. Went to the academy as soon as I got back and have just been working at it here since then,” his eyes observe her knowing look. 

“How about you, Ma’am?” her eyes widen at his questions, she’s never been clocked that fast. Her first instinct is to deny it, but with Sergeant Dodds she feels like he knows where she’s coming from more than anyone. 

“Two years,” she desperately peers into her empty glass instead of making any more eye contact with him. 

“Ma’am, that’s not very long.”

“I need another drink, it was nice to meet you Sergeant,” she spins on heel and heads to the nearest bar.

---

a/n: okay so the vision for the dress is basically anastasia's gown with some modifications

[kayyybenson]

Sick - Nick Amaro

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

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

    "I didn't rape her. I promise."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    "Hey Y/N." 

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

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

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

    "What is that?" 

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

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

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

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

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

    "No, stay. Please,"

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

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

    "Yeah Y/N?"

    "Why do you care so much?"

    "Excuse me?"

    "You heard me."

    "Well, there's a lot of reasons."

    "Go on."

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

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

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

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

[stefanmikaleson1864]

I’m here for you

Joe Velasco X Reader 

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

Y/N POV 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes Ma’am thank you” I said 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Omg what the hell” You asked 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you with everything” You asked 

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

“ you know what” You asked 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know and that’s the problem he said

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

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

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

You gave him a surprised look followed by a smile 

“You love me” You questioned 

He laughed a little bit.

“I’m being serious” you said pouting 

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

“Listen here Joe Velscao” you said 

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

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

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

The kiss broke and he sat down. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you” Joe said squeezing my hand

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

“Yes Ma’am” Joe said 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[australiancarisi]

a little snippet of a sonny x sister!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not many”

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

“You’re right”

“I usually am”

can anyone guess the mystery man?

[idontevenknowwhatt]

Amanda Rollins Masterlist

** means 18+

x reader

None yet

x daughter

Not Worth It

[bi-bard]

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

Title: Taste Test

Pairing: Rafael Barba X Reader

Word Count: 1,075 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today was one of those very lucky days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's great," he promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not yet-"

"Barba-"

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

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

"Hello," one of the women said.

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

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

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

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

"Nice to meet you all."

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

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

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

"Oh, good, hope you liked it."

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

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

"You don't have to-"

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

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

"See?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TAG LISTS:

Everything - @geeksareunique

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

Navigation Guide

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[cathrrrine]

based on this incorrect quote i posted

how the svu characters would react to your “would you still love me if i was a worm?” text

Sonny Carisi

Amanda Rollins

Nick Amaro

Fin Tutuola

Rafael Barba

Olivia Benson

Elliot Stabler

Part 2!

[louisaland]

SVU Season 18 thoughts

It will come as no surprise that I am more and more charmed by the lovely Sonny Carisi!

A post on here ( talking about how he definitely brought Barba Italian treats to say thank you for letting him shadow him/sit in on his legal prep) and described him as a golden retriever in human form, which is 100% accurate! 

He is gentle with victims, tough with suspects and even if he is angry, he keeps it under control ( no lockers have been harmed by his fists so far, which is good). I particularly love how he takes care of his colleagues. 

He can tell that Amanda is internalising everything she’s feeling about being a bad mother when the little boy is kidnapped by his nanny ( really did not see that one coming, and, as someone who works in childcare, it upset me as I could never do that!). He knows exactly what to say to Amanda and offers practical care in the form of food and trashy reality TV. 

In the hockey team episode, you can tell they come from very different homes and have had very different upbringings. Amanda has lived through her parents’ unstable relationship, that was probably full of physical and verbal abuse, while he was raised in a supportive, affectionate environment with two parents who loved and liked eachother and still do. It is implied they were financially stable, as he claims he just asked his mum for 400$ for university supplies a few days before he started. I get the impression Amanda did not have that, and that her parents prioritised their addictions rather than putting food on the table or providing for education.  There were probably some raised voices (80’s/90’s big Italian family is probably going to be a bit loud sometimes) and minor disagreements, but they all genuinely seem to like eachother and are fairly close.  So he thinks the mum should just leave with the kids/go to the police and she knows it’s not that simple.

Carisi and Rollins really understand eachother well, and work super well as a team, like a much calmer and healthier version of Olivia and Elliot. They truly are really good friends, which explains how she can tell that his Bobby Bianchi story was true. Poor bullied Sonny! I imagine he was tall, probably on the thin side ( in spite of eating his body weight in pasta/pizza/canneloni, I reckon). It explains why he has so much empathy for victims and tries to help everyone in any way he can. 

I think Amanda is incredible too! She’s a great cop, a good friend and an excellent mother, but she struggles with being vulnerable and asking for help. The storyline with her sister would have been a perfect opportunity to have Liv contact Kathleen Stabler to give Kim some advice/guidance, who I can see being in the mental health field in some capacity and/or a rape survivor counsellor. I miss the Stabler kids, it was always interesting to see how they coped with their dad doing the job and how it impacted his relationship and interactions with them. 

Olivia keeps losing her romantic partners, I was very sad for her when Tucker left her, but I also thought he was still married ( or separated, at best) so maybe it worked out how it should. 

I really like Olivia and Fin, they are two characters that I have really become attached to over 18 and 16 seasons respectively. The show would not be what it is without Ice-T, who was only supposed to guest star for a few episodes while Munch got a new partner. But those two are one of my favourite partnerships, with their penchant for snarky comebacks and teasing banter. On paper it sounds like a disaster, as the characters are very different but the actors and the writing really made it work. 

[scentofdriedflowers]

What a beautiful snowy day to have Carisi taken hostage and his wife worried as fuck!!! Give it to meee! Can't waait!!

I NEED Amanda to lose it a bit and somebody to hold her down ala JJ/Will Criminal Minds scene thank you

I don't want her to just be worried and sad I NEED her to lose it at first lol.....Kelli would be so good at this! Let's hope the writing part doesn't suck bad, last time there was Warren writing these kind of scenes now..., thankfully Kelli and Peter and M are good. Like, this woman is Amanda Rollins...you hurt her family she fucking ends you. Listen, she physically threatened (with words, so hot that scene) a psychopath who murdered in cold blood his whole family and some more, JUST BECAUSE he hurt a lil bit her man who wasn't yet her man back then so imagine now that they're married!! nuh uh I want screams and shit too lol but if it ends in a cliffhanger I'm the one who's gonna lose it 😩

ugh I'm so excited for this episode it's been years since I've been this excited for an svu episode

[serenasoutherlyns]

have my cake/eat it too

Cabenson, mature. ao3

Alex Cabot was going to drive her insane. She knew it must be happening, but she didn’t need to see it with her own two eyes. Alex at the bar next to some woman, Olivia couldn’t place where she recognized her from. She had dark features-- like Olivia herself. Alex wore that blue silk dress that exposed just the right amount of skin, her collarbones, her elegant shoulders. She had worn that dress on a particularly enjoyable date. She had her hair curled and pulled half back. Olivia felt her ears burn, and left. Whatever, right? It’s not like she owned her. Technically, they weren’t even together, right now. It wasn’t like Olivia wasn’t doing it too. She still felt sharp, twisting anger.

Callie was a journalist she knew. She had short brown hair that was showing early signs of gray at the temples. Shorter than Olivia, and curvy. Olivia called her and was unsurprised at her immediate answer, nor how she came over within the half-hour. Olivia kissed her with energy, nipping, sucking. Callie matched her intensity all night and left as fast as she came. Olivia couldn’t help falling asleep with Alex’s lithe body filling her head. It made her sick.

---

At work, she tried her best to act normal, professional. Alex was cold and simple in their conversations: did you get the file, what did the suspect’s lawyer say, good job on the witness stand. Olivia was similar. Despite this, there was a simmering tension that Munch picked up on. What was going on, he wanted to know. Olivia brushed it off as nothing. Munch was less than satisfied. What’s more, Alex didn’t stop driving her crazy. Olivia found herself nearly salivating at Alex’s tight sweaters and the way she would tuck her hair behind her ears, at the click of her heels on the cement floors of the precinct. She wanted her so bad. But they weren’t together. Right now. It was just too complicated-- they had agreed on this.

It was good to know she still had it, Olivia thought, after picking up a stranger at the lesbian bar one night. The woman was tall and blonde, but Olivia justified it with the fact that they looked nothing alike in the face. Olivia was on autopilot, this time, her mind swimming with Alex, Alex, Alex.

---

They couldn’t avoid working late together forever. Olivia couldn’t help herself: she brought it up.

“I saw you, at Penelope’s. With a woman,” Olivia mentioned in a quiet moment. Alex sighed back.

“I thought we were sticking to work at work,” was her reply.

“It’s not like we talk outside of work,” Olivia said.

“That’s true. Why do you care that I had drinks with a woman?”

“I think you could guess, Alex.”

“We’re not together, Olivia.” Olivia looked at her with what she could only imagine was seething anger, because Alex seemed taken aback for a moment, then she smiled. “You agreed, it’s too complicated.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t need to see it.”

“It’s not like I meant for you to,” said Alex, laughing with indignation.

“I mean, she looked like me, Alex, just say you want me back.”

“No,” said Alex. “Now can we get back to work?”

“Fine,” said Olivia, “fine.”

She didn’t mean for Rollins to be one of them, but she was unsurprisingly insistent and tipsy when she called, and Olivia was just horny enough to let her come over. She wondered if it had been a spur of the moment decision for the other detective or if she had a crush. She didn’t care that much. So much for limiting complications, so much for not sleeping with her coworkers-- whatever. Things would be fine, they were both adults.

The woman was surprisingly gentle, though clumsy. Olivia got her into bed giggling. A reddish-purple spot bloomed on Amanda’s neck, and Olivia found she didn’t regret it. Amanda wore a comfortable-looking gray turtleneck to work the next day, and they shared a little knowing glance.

---

Jack McCoy was running for reelection again, and Olivia wasn’t surprised to get an invite to the big fundraiser downtown. The campaign rented some big hotel ballroom. It was a little gauche, but that was to be expected. She appreciated the excuse to dress up a little, and the excuse to bring a date. Amanda was as easy as anyone else. They had talked about their rendez-vous, and decided to leave it at once, but she didn’t mind her company for a night out. She really didn’t regret it when she saw the scowl on Alex’s face when she saw the two of them sharing a joke.

“Counselor,” said Amanda, who knew nothing about the situation, beyond rumors. “Bad hors d'oeuvres?” Those cop manners, Olivia cursed.

“Hi, Detective,” Alex said curtly, not answering her question. “How are you doing?” The words were cold and slicing. Olivia got some satisfaction out of it. Jealousy was a two-way street, it seemed.

“I’m alright,” said Amanda. “Liv tried to class me up for the night.”

“I see that,” said Alex.

“It didn’t take,” said Amanda, “it usually doesn’t.” She let out her charming grin, and Alex’s expression soured even further.

“I think you look lovely,” said Olivia, playing into the game. She almost saw Alex roll her eyes. “Darling.”

“Well, nice to see you, detectives,” Alex said before pretending to see someone across the room and striding off with purpose. Olivia watched her walk away.

“What the hell is her deal?” Amanda asked her when she was (barely) out of earshot.

“Oh,” said Olivia, “my guess is bad hors d'oeuvres.”

---

Olivia pulled Alex in by her waist, kissed her with intention, though languidly, lips moving slowly, enjoying every millimeter of her, every little movement. Alex moaned softly, and it sent a shiver through Olivia. Alex’s soft hands interlaced behind Olivia’s neck, pulling her impossibly closer, letting Olivia’s tongue into her mouth, exploring the familiar space eagerly. They dropped down onto the couch and their hands roamed more, eventually, Olivia’s hand was hot under Alex’s shirt, feeling urgently. Alex moaned again, louder this time, and Olivia needed the fabric gone. Without even telling her to, Alex pulled the thin v-neck over her head. Olivia kissed her shoulder, then looked up, making eye contact with her, admiring her kiss-swollen lips and glassy eyes.

Her alarm went off. Olivia blinked in the early morning dark. She couldn’t shake it off all day.

---

Olivia was incensed. This was her coffee shop, she had been the one to introduce Alex to it. And here she was, with Abbie Carmichael. How dare she, honestly. Olivia was just trying to enjoy her Saturday afternoon. It wasn’t even some stranger like last time, but someone they both knew. She must be visiting from Washington. Olivia didn’t want to talk to them, but Abbie stopped her.

“Liv, hey,” she said in that raspy drawl of hers, “long time no see.”

“Abbie,” Olivia said, trying to keep the contempt out of her voice. “It’s nice to see you.” Alex was staring into her mug like it was going to tell her what to do. “How’s Washington?”

“Busy,” said Abbie with a laugh. “Crazy.”

“Better to be busy than idle,” Olivia said. Alex looked up. Her face was pink.

“That’s what my mother says,” said Abbie. “We should get drinks while I’m here.”

“That sounds like a great time,” said Olivia. “Well, nice to see you two,” said Olivia, and waved. As she left, she shot a look back at the table. Alex had a hand on her forehead.

---

“Olivia, can I talk to you?” Alex asked that Monday. Olivia expected it to be work, but it wasn’t. Alex walked into her office and crossed her arms in front of her. “What the fuck is your problem, Olivia?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, fake-oblivious.

“Bullshit,” said Alex. “You know I wasn’t even on a date with Abbie? That was just friendly. You embarrassed me in front of a friend, it was so out of line!” Alex’s voice was a whisper but she may as well have been yelling.

“Out of line is you interrogating my date at the fundraiser,” said Olivia.

“Yeah, because you were being so mature.” Olivia scoffed at her.

“Why do you even care?” Said Olivia. “What’s your problem, Alex?”

“You’ve been trying to make me jealous.”

“I haven’t, but good to know that you are,” said Olivia. At that moment she realized they were inches away from each other. Her eyes flitted to Alex’s lips, then her eyes, briefly to her hands. She opened her mouth to talk, but was cut off by Alex kissing her. It was a quick but intense kiss. They were lucky it was late because Alex’s blinds weren’t closed. Olivia pulled her in again and Alex let out a muffled mmph sound.

“You’re,” said Alex breathily, pulling back, “You’re infuriating.”

“Then go,” said Olivia. “If I piss you off so bad.”

“It’s my office,” said Alex.

“True,” said Olivia, who dropped Alex’s hand and turned to go. Alex gripped her stronger. “Do you want me?” said Olivia, her tone a mile away from moments ago.

“Desperately,” said Alex. “Do you know how, how mad I’ve been?” She laughed a little.

“I think I have some idea,” said Olivia.

---

“So, do you think it’s too complicated still?” said Alex in the morning.

“No,” said Olivia, “I think you’re worth any complication.”

“Sap,” said Alex, kissing her shoulder.

“What time is it?” Olivia asked. Alex rolled over to look at the clock.

“7:30,” she said.

“Good,” murmured Olivia, “plenty of time.”

[bishopsbelova]

The way I’m so fucking emotional over this for so many reasons

Olivia Benson being the one to hold her godson while he's being baptized. Olivia who always wanted to be a mom and be a part of a family - and maybe it's not exactly how she'd imagined it would; but she found that family in Noah, Fin, Amanda, Sonny and it's blessed her with three godchildren and people who would die for her.

Sonny Carisi who's been in love with Amanda since Jesse and has always wanted a family but specifically has wanted it with Amanda but was never gonna push her. And he just wanted her to be happy even if it wasn't with him and he thought he lost his chance is now married to the love of his life and has three kids with her. And he's watching their third baby be baptized. There's no way he ever thought he'd really be here.

Amanda Rollins who never believed she deserved this; to be loved and happy is married to the absolutely best man she knows, has three kids who are gonna grow up the exact opposite of her (something she was so worried about). After everything, Amanda Rollins is happy.