A brutal case breaks JJ and Emily's comfort turns into something neither of them can pretend was casual anymore.
Dinner, wine and a spicy truth or dare card game are involved in this story that's very much based on a recent date I had ( do or don't ask me how much of this is real 👀)
Word count: 2.6k
MA / 18+ content, you've been warned.
Set in the earliest seasons
They’d spent years working alongside each other. Thousands of miles in the air on the BAU jet, surrounded by the hum of the engine, lukewarm coffee, and the shared exhaustion of another long case. And somewhere along the line, a habit had formed, the kind neither of them would ever admit out loud.
Emily would be lost in a file, dark hair falling into her face, and JJ would catch herself watching the subtle shift of her jaw, holding her breath just to see the faint, rare smile that meant Emily had finally solved a piece of the puzzle. Other times, high above some Midwestern state at two in the morning, JJ would drift off against the window, and Emily would quietly look up from her book, letting her gaze linger on the soft, unguarded line of JJ’s profile far longer than could ever be written off as casual.
It was always when the other wasn't supposed to be looking. A stolen second in the jet's narrow aisle, a quiet glance across a crowded briefing room, a lingering touch while passing a folder.
Emily had built her entire adult life on dry humor and sharp defenses, using quick wit to keep everyone at a safe distance. But somewhere between midnight flights and endless cases, she’d completely forgotten to keep those walls up around JJ. The banter had started landing somewhere far softer than either of them intended. Neither said anything, of course, because saying something meant admitting it was real, and neither was brave enough to risk the delicate balance they’d built.
It all finally boiled over after a brutal case that left the whole team completely drained.
Back at the office, past midnight, JJ sat staring at a crime scene photo she’d looked at a dozen times already. In her head, she was running through a checklist of everything she should have caught earlier.
"You couldn't have known," Emily said, pulling a chair over. "Nobody caught it. Not Hotch, not Reid, not me."
"I should have." JJ kept her voice flat, trying to hold it together. "It was right there."
"Hindsight makes everything look obvious." Emily kept her tone calm. "You did what you could with what you had."
JJ didn't answer. She just stared at the file, and Emily saw the tension in her shoulders finally collapse.
"Hey." Emily leaned in. "Look at me. This isn't on you."
"I know." JJ's voice cracked.
A tear dropped onto the page, and JJ swiped her cheek with the back of her hand, trying to brush it off. Emily didn't try to fix it with words.
"Come here," she said, leaning across the gap between their chairs.
JJ didn't resist. She leaned forward, face pressing into the crook of Emily's neck, and let out a long, ragged breath she’d been holding in for hours. Emily held her, one hand resting between JJ's shoulder blades, waiting out the quiet shaking of her shoulders.
As the quiet settled between them, Emily leaned down a bit and softly pressed a kiss into JJ's forehead. The kind of gesture that slipped out before she even realized she was doing it.
Gradually, JJ's breathing evened out. They stayed like that for a long moment, long enough that it stopped being just comfort and became something else entirely.
Neither of them pulled away right away.
Emily could feel her own heart hammering against her ribs. JJ's eyes were glassy when she finally moved back, looking up with a look that was hard to read.
Then the spell broke.
"Sorry," JJ muttered, wiping her face with her sleeve and sitting up straight. "I'm a mess. Long day."
"You're allowed," Emily said quickly, stepping back into her usual space and grabbing her cold coffee cup. "We both are."
"Right." JJ forced a faint laugh and stacked the file papers together, squaring the edges on the desk. "I should head out. Early morning."
"Yeah. Me too." Emily grabbed her coat off the chair. "Drive safe."
Neither mentioned it on the way out. They said normal goodnights, and JJ walked out to her car telling herself she was reading too much into a rough night.
She was three blocks from her apartment when her phone buzzed.
Emily: Dinner? My place, Friday.
JJ read it twice at a red light, catching her own reflection in the rearview mirror grinning like a teenager.
JJ: I'll bring wine :)
—————————————
Friday night, Emily lit the candles twice because she accidentally blew them out the first time trying to adjust the plates. She took a slow breath, smoothed down her shirt, and opened the door when the knock came.
JJ was standing in the hall, hands clasped, looking just as surprisingly nervous.
"Come on in," Emily said.
"It smells great," JJ said, stepping inside and looking around.
"Flattering me already?" Emily smirked. "Table's on the balcony."
It was a clear night, warm enough to sit outside without jackets. They sat next to each other, pouring wine early because sitting still with empty hands felt too loud.
They talked about easy things at first, office gossip, books but JJ kept picking at her napkin, and Emily was refilling their glasses faster than usual.
"You're doing the thing," JJ noted, watching Emily top off her glass.
"What thing?"
"You talk faster when you're nervous."
Emily raised an eyebrow. "I don't get nervous."
"Prentiss."
"Fine." Emily let out a short laugh. "A little."
That broke the tension. By the time they were halfway through a second bottle and the plates were empty of food, they were leaning over the table, laughing at things that weren't even that funny.
"Okay," Emily said, pushing her chair back. "Hold on. I have something ridiculous to show you."
She walked inside and returned with a small card game, setting it on the table. "Garcia gave me this for Secret Santa last year. Said it was for 'when I finally got my act together.' I never opened it."
JJ picked up the box, reading the neon pink text. "Garcia gave you a spicy Truth or Dare game?"
"She did." Emily leaned in. "So, Jareau. Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
Emily drew a card and smirked. "'Be honest: what's your read on your opponent in bed?'"
JJ nearly choked on her wine. "That is inappropriate."
"Rules are rules."
"I plead the fifth."
"Nope." Emily crossed her arms. "Fine, I'll go first. Profiler's instinct says you're a pillow princess."
"Excuse me?" JJ put her glass down on the table with a sharp clink. "Based on what?"
"Just a hunch."
"Your hunch is dead wrong." JJ narrowed her eyes, a competitive edge kicking in. "You need to re-evaluate your data."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Maybe."
Emily picked up the deck again. "Your turn. Truth or dare?"
"Dare," JJ said immediately.
Emily pulled a card, looked at it, and went quiet. She turned it around.
Make out with your opponent for two minutes.
JJ's face went scarlet. For a second neither of them moved, the air on the balcony suddenly a lot warmer than the actual weather accounted for.
"Well." Emily's voice had dropped a register, all the teasing confidence still there but quieter now. "Rules are rules."
"Right," JJ said, breathless already. "Rules."
Emily set a timer on her phone without looking away from her, then leaned in, and every ounce of JJ's earlier composure went with it. Emily kissed like she did everything else, sure of herself even when she wasn't, one hand cupping JJ's jaw like she'd been wanting to do that for as long as she could remember. JJ melted into it immediately, a soft moan escaping that she hadn't planned on making.
When the timer went off, Emily pulled back leaving JJ very much wanting more. She couldn’t help but chuckle at JJ’s surprised puppy eyes.
"Timer's up," Emily said.
"You're really going to stick to two minutes?"
"Rules are rules, Jareau."
JJ huffed something between a laugh and a complaint, still catching her breath. "Fine. My turn to draw."
JJ reached for the deck, cheeks completely pink, and drew a card. She read it, then looked up at Emily with a slow kinda devilish smile.
”What?” Emiily asked, stealing the card from JJ’s hands.
Emily read it and smirked.
Blindfold your opponent and let them do whatever they want with you.
"Well." Emily set the card down, working to keep her voice even. “Ill go find something we can use.”
Emily stood, disappearing inside for a moment, and came back with a dark scarf pulled from a drawer near the door. She held it out. "Here. Try not to enjoy this too much."
"No promises." JJ took it, hands not quite steady, and stepped closer to tie it around Emily's eyes.
"This is your chance, you know," Emily said, voice low, head tilting toward JJ's even though she couldn't see her. “to prove me wrong about the whole pillow princess thing."
"I intend to."
Emily settled back onto the couch, blind and waiting. A smirk tugging at her mouth despite the nerves underneath it. JJ got on her lap, straddling her as she started to press soft kisses around Emily’s mouth that became hungrier and hungrier with every second that went by until she finally slipped her tongue inside.
Emily immediately broke the rules, sliding off the blindfold,. Her dark eyes locking onto JJ's. Without another word, she pulled JJ into a deep kiss, her hands coming to rest firmly on her hips. Then, she slipped her hands beneath JJ’s blouse, guiding it off her shoulders. JJ returned the gesture, her fingers trembling slightly as she worked through the buttons of Emily’s shirt.
She kissed along JJ’s neck and collarbone, lingering over every reaction she drew from her. JJ’s fingers tangled in Emily’s soft black hair as she pulled her closer to her breasts. Emily could feel JJ’s nipples getting harder and herder as she sucked on them.
In no time, they had abandoned the last of their clothes somewhere between the couch and the bedroom.
Emily’s mouth was all over her, neck, breasts, stomach and as she kept going lower, she became amazed at just how wet JJ was for her. And she couldn’t leave her waiting any longer.
JJ’s moans were soft and breathy, almost as though she were ashamed of being heard. Her fingers remained tangled in Emily’s hair, instinctively guiding her.
Emily looked up at her.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. “Did you know that?”
JJ didn’t answer. She only pressed her lips together shyly, avoiding Emily’s gaze.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Emily insisted.
“Not really,” JJ finally admitted.
“You’re so silly.”
Emily crawled on top of her as JJ relaxed beneath her.
“You’re gorgeous”.
A loud gasp filled the air as Emily’s fingers started working their magic on JJ.
There were no words after that. They didn’t need them.
“Please, keep going,” JJ murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Emily’s fingers rested and curved themselves inside her as she finally reached climax below her.
————
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Emily rolled onto her side, resting her head against one hand as she admired JJ.
Her chest rose and fell as she slowly caught her breath, her cheeks flushed and her hair tousled beyond recognition.
Emily reached over, tracing lazy lines across JJ’s stomach before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.
“You’re such a good girl,” she murmured.
JJ smiled, her breathing finally slowing. But as she turned toward Emily, a mischievous spark replaced the sleepiness in her eyes.
Emily recognized it instantly. “What?”
JJ’s smile widened. “My turn.”
Emily chuckled. “You really want to prove me wrong, don't you?”
“Unless you want to back out?” JJ arched a brow.
“Go ahead, baby,” Emily smirked.
JJ shifted over her. Emily’s hands instinctively reached for her hips, but JJ caught both of her wrists, pinning them firmly above Emily’s head against the pillows.
“No touching, Prentiss.”
The sudden loss of control caught Emily off guard; her smirk vanished into a quick bite of her lower lip. JJ took her time , mapping Emily's body with slow, deliberate kisses, learning every spot that made Emily's breath hitch or mumble a curse.
When Emily tried to twist and regain leverage, JJ held her down, her weight anchoring Emily completely. She looked down at her with a quiet triumph.
"Still think I'm a pillow princess?"
Emily let out a breathless laugh. "Maybe I was wrong.”
JJ parted Emily’s legs and pressed her tongue against her most sensitive spot just long enough to tease her, stealing a loud gasp from her.
“Maybe?" JJ looked up from between Emily’s thighs.
"Definitely wrong. God, JJ—"
JJ slid down, trailing heat lower, and stopped teasing entirely.
———---------------------------
Later, Emily lay curled behind JJ, one arm wrapped securely around her waist. Her cheek rested near JJ's shoulder, hand tracing lazy, absentminded shapes against JJ's soft skin .
JJ shifted in her sleep, cuddling closer into the warmth behind her. Emily smiled into the quiet.
For once, there was nowhere else in the world either of them needed to be.
Suddenly, JJ began moving against Emily in a way that suggested something more. A soft moan escaped her lips as she grabbed Emily’s hand, guiding it between her legs.
“Please.”
Emily didn’t say a word; she just started kissing JJ’s neck and collarbone from behind, inserting her fingers inside her as JJ moved her hips to pleasure herself against them.
“Is that good, baby?” Emily whispered in her ear.
JJ just nodded and moaned in response. Emily could feel she was almost there, so she pressed her fingers deeper into JJ, bringing her to climax.
As JJ’s breathing slowly evened out, she sank back against Emily’s chest.
Emily pulled the blanket up over their shoulders, wrapping her arm securely around JJ's waist. She pressed a soft kiss to the back of JJ’s neck, resting her chin near her shoulder.
"Goodnight, J," Emily whispered into the quiet.
JJ let out a faint, contented sigh, covering Emily’s hand with her own. "Night, Emily."
——————————-
Morning came slowly, light filtering pale through the curtains.
JJ stirred first, blinking against the dawn. Emily was still half-asleep behind her, her arm a comfortable weight around JJ's waist.
"Morning," Emily mumbled into her neck.
"Morning."
JJ made a move to sit up, but Emily’s arm tightened immediately. "Where are you going?"
"Water."
"I'll get it."
Emily finally let go and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and running a hand through her messy hair. "You stay right there."
JJ smiled sleepily. "Bossy."
"I'm serious," Emily said, pulling her clothes back on from the floor. "I'll get you some water, and then we can figure out breakfast. Though considering we drank nearly two bottles of wine last night, breakfast might end up being an IV"
JJ laughed softly from under the covers. "Don't move," Emily warned again.
“Yes ma’am"
Emily walked toward the bedroom door, then stopped at the threshold like she forgot something. She turned back, walked right back to the edge of the bed, and took JJ's cheeks gently in her hand.
She kissed her once.
Twice.
Then again on the corner of her mouth, followed by a flurry of quick, playful kisses across her cheeks.
JJ laughed, ducking her head in vain to dodge them.
Emily lingered with one last, soft kiss against her lips. "I'll be right back."
She finally let go, smiling as she headed out to the kitchen, leaving JJ watching her go with a quiet, lasting smile.
Guys…. I had a one night stand with a lowkey celebrity im giggling so hard. (Might turn the experience into a fanfic cause it was truly a 10/10 experience)
Guys this is so random but i just realized chester lake’s actor is the same guy that played this character that got killed off 3 seconds into the suicide squad movie lmaoooo
when olivia finds her favorite ADA sick at work, she insists on taking you home
tags: sickfic, fem reader, protective olivia (900 words)
a/n: woo my first svu fic! I've been wanting to write for Olivia for ages. this one is kinda short but I hope to write others in the future.
You squint at the computer in front of you, trying to get the words on the screen to not blur as much. Why do legal briefs have to be in such small print? You swear these things are barely legible.
The truth is that the swimming words probably have more to do with your headache that seems determined to escalate to a migraine sometime soon than the font size. And the fact that you keep having to turn away from the computer to cough what seems like every five seconds. But that’s neither here nor there – you still think they should make the print bigger.
You sigh, minimizing the PDF on your screen and propping your head up on one hand. You rub your temples tiredly. Maybe if you just close your eyes for one minute, you just might…
“Looks like you need this coffee more than I do.”
You snap your eyes open, feeling your cheeks heat up. Olivia Benson is leaning against the doorframe to your office, watching you with a slightly amused, slightly concerned look on her face.
“Please tell me one of those is for me,” you sigh, eyes falling to the two coffee cups in her hands.
“Of course,” Olivia smiles, coming into your office and sitting down in the chair across from you. She hands over the coffee. “Can’t have our best assistant DA falling asleep midday, can we?”
“You’re an angel,” you say, taking a long sip of the hot liquid. It feels amazing on your irritated throat, and you can only hope the caffeine might improve the pounding in your head.
“I’ll take it,” Olivia chuckles, leaning back in the chair and taking a sip from her own cup. “That’s a lot better than the string of profanities that usually get hurled my way.”
You grimace in sympathy. “Long day?”
“Ah, the usual. Some good, some bad,” Olivia says diplomatically, shrugging a shoulder. “But trying to focus on the good.”
“And that’s what makes you a great captain.” You give her a reassuring smile, downing some more coffee. But then your throat tickles, and you’re forced to swivel around in your chair to smother a coughing fit in your elbow.
It takes longer than you’d like for the coughing to calm down, and you wipe a few irritated tears off your cheeks when you turn back around. “Sorry, um –” you clear your throat. “Excuse me.”
Olivia’s dark eyes are full of concern when you finally look at her again. “Are you alright?” she asks softly, studying you. “That doesn’t sound too good.”
“It’s nothing,” you wave a hand, trying to sound healthier than you feel. “Wrong pipe.”
Olivia tilts her head, giving you a knowing look. She reaches out, giving you a second to pull away if you want. When you don’t, she puts the back of her hand to your forehead, then sighs.
“That’s what I thought. I have a twelve-year-old, I know a fever when I see one.” She raises her eyebrows at you.
Your face feels hot, and you pull away, hiding it behind another sip of coffee. “It’s no biggie,” you repeat, although it sounds unconvincing, even to yourself.
“Sweetheart,” Olivia says, her voice low and soft now. It makes your heart flutter. “You should go home and rest. You’re sick and running a temp.”
You honestly didn’t expect Olivia to care this much. Sure, you’re friends, but she’s never looked at you like this before.
“I will,” you say, swallowing down another cough. “I just have a few more things to get through, then I’ll head out.”
“You’re no good to anyone here if you run yourself into the ground,” Olivia presses, her eyes still fixed on yours. “Trust me, I’ve done it myself.”
You laugh softly. “Yeah, I’ve seen you do it.”
“Exactly,” Olivia says, lips curled in a lopsided smirk. “And you’ve pulled me back when I needed it. Reminded me to sleep, and eat, and to go see my kid. So this is me pulling, honey. You need to go home.”
You’ve seen this softer side of Olivia before. It’s reminiscent of the way she is with victims, all quiet words of reassurance, comforting touches. But somehow it’s hitting you even harder right now, all that care directed at you.
But you remind yourself not to read too much into it. You’re friends, that’s all. Even if you secretly wish it could be more.
Your nose itches and you hastily grab a tissue to sneeze into, sighing afterward. Olivia is right. You’re not getting anything done anyway.
“Maybe I can work the rest of the day from home,” you admit begrudgingly, glancing up at her. “I don’t want to get anyone else sick, anyway.”
“Good,” Olivia smiles at you, and the brightness of it makes your chest do funny things again.
You and Olivia stand up. But the moment you’re on your feet, it feels like all the blood rushes from your head and you wobble, seeing stars.
Olivia lunges for you immediately, wrapping a firm arm around you and steadying you.
“Woah, careful,” she says, frowning at you. She doesn’t let go of you. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just dizzy for a second,” you mumble, although you don’t make an effort to move out of her grasp.
“Let me take you home, sweetheart,” Olivia murmurs, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. There’s a deep furrow in her eyebrows. “You shouldn’t be driving with this fever.”
“I think I’ll be okay –” you start to protest, but she shakes her head firmly. While keeping her arm around you, she picks up your purse and jacket for you and tucks them under her other arm.
“Nuh-uh. I’m pulling rank,” Olivia says, already guiding you toward the door. “I’m driving you home.”
You feel too safe in her arms to protest any further.
I’m rewatching Casey’s first episode and I can’t help but chuckle every time Liv and Stabler are mean to her because it’s always so uncalled for 😭 The only time Olivia softens up is when Casey’s like, 🥺 “Sorry.” Be nice to pookie!!
hi guys! I know it's been a while but here's the sequel to Bribery, But it's Totally Romantic
After a few months of dating, y/n's hidden trauma resurfaces, sending her spiraling into the fear that something this good couldn't possibly last. Casey doesn't push. She just finds her own quiet way to prove her wrong.
word count: 3.4k
(fair warning, im kinda trauma dumping through y/n lol)
The witness stand felt smaller than you remembered.
You'd testified before, plenty of times in fact , but never with Casey standing ten feet away in a burgundy suit, addressing you like you were nothing more than Detective Y/N, first officer on scene.
"Detective, can you walk the jury through what you observed when you arrived?"
Her voice was even, clipped in that particular courtroom cadence she used, no warmth in it, none of the softness you'd gotten used to over the past few months. You knew it was an act. You knew she had to be exactly this: sharp, unshakable, a woman the jury could trust with the truth. But some small, foolish part of you still ached at the distance.
You answered her questions the way you'd been trained to. Focused on the facts, no hesitation.
Defense tried to rattle you on cross, they knew you were young and not very experienced at the job, so they used it against you. Implied you'd jumped to conclusions, implied your report was sloppy, implied a dozen small things designed to plant doubt. Either way, you held your ground. When you glanced toward the prosecution table, just once, Casey's expression didn't so much as flicker. But there was something steady in her eyes that told you she saw exactly how well you were doing.
Olivia and Elliot were behind her. And judging by Elliot's smug face you could tell you nailed it.
By the time closing arguments wrapped, your shirt was sticking to your back and your hands hadn't fully stopped shaking, the good kind of adrenaline, the kind that came from doing something hard and doing it right.
The jury took four hours:
Guilty on all counts.
You caught up with your girlfriend on the courthouse steps, coat still half-buttoned, evening traffic humming past below. Casey was tucking a folder into her bag, hair falling loose from the twist she'd worn all day, looking for just a second like herself again instead of ADA Novak.
"You were incredible in there," you said, breathless with something that wasn't just the cold.
She looked up, and there it was, that smile, the real one, tired around the edges but warm. "Couldn't have done it without you. Defense counsel looked ready to eat his own tie by the end."
You laughed, stepping closer without thinking about it, the pull toward her as natural now as breathing. Your hand found the front of her coat, fingers curling into the lapel, and you leaned in.
Casey's hand caught your wrist. Gentle but firm.
"Sweetheart." Her voice dropped, quiet enough that only you could hear it. "Not here."
You froze, cheeks going hot. "Casey, there's nobody-"
"There's always somebody." She didn't let go of your wrist, but she didn't pull you closer either , just held the space between you. "Defense counsel's paralegal is twenty feet away pretending to check her phone. If anyone so much as suspects we're together, they'll use it. A retrial, an appeal, an ethics complaint. Everything we just won, everything that family just got, could unravel over a rumor."
You swallowed hard, the adrenaline curdling into something closer to shame. "You're right… I wasn't thinking."
"I know." Her thumb brushed once, briefly, over your pulse point, before she let your wrist go entirely and stepped back, restoring the careful distance between you. "I wanted to. For the record."
You gave her a shy smirk.
Something flickered across her face, guilt, maybe, or just the same ache you were feeling. Neither of you moved for a second.
"ADA Novak, a word please?" Some reporters gathered nearby.
"I'll call you tonight," she said finally. "We'll talk. I promise."
You nodded, throat tight, and watched her walk down the steps.
You didn't get far before you heard footsteps falling into step beside you.
"Hey." Olivia's voice was easy, casual in the way that always somehow felt like an invitation rather than an interrogation. "First time on the stand for a big one, right?"
"Yeah." You tried for casual too, and mostly missed. "It went okay, I think."
She studied you for a second too long, that particular look she had, the one that had cracked open more suspects than her badge probably had. "Okay? You did great!"
You opened your mouth to deflect. Nothing came out.
She could tell something was up.
"C'mon," she said, already turning toward the corner. "There's a coffee place two blocks down. My treat. You look like you could use a minute before you head back."
The café was quiet, tucked between the noise of the afternoon crowd, and Olivia let the silence sit for a while after your coffees arrived, like she knew better than to push. You turned your cup slowly, watching the steam curl up.
"I feel kind of stupid ranting to you about this," you finally admitted.
"Try me."
"It's not even work stuff."
Olivia leaned back, unbothered. "Even better. I could use a break from work stuff." When you still hesitated, she softened. "Y/N. I mean it. Whatever it is, I want you to feel like you can come to me. For anything."
That undid something in you a little.
"It's Casey," you said quietly.
Olivia's eyebrows lifted, just slightly, but she didn't look surprised. "Okay, what happened?"
You stared at your cup, avoiding eye contact. "After the trial, I just—I was so excited about how well it went that I forgot and I tried to kiss her on the steps. She stopped me. Told me someone could've seen, that it could mess up the case, mess up everything."
"She's not wrong to be careful."
"I know that. I do. It's not even about her being wrong, because she isn't."
You exhaled, frustration and something rawer tangled together. "It's just- this is the first time in my life something's actually been good, Liv. Like, really good. And every single time something good happens to me, some part of my brain starts waiting for the part where it falls apart. So the second she pulled away today, even for a completely reasonable reason, that part of me just lit up like… see? Told you. Too good to be true."
Olivia was quiet for a moment, turning her own cup slowly.
"That's a hard thing to carry," she said finally. "Waiting for the other shoe to drop, even when nobody's holding a shoe."
"It's exhausting," you admitted. "Being scared of something I want that badly."
"For what it's worth," Olivia said, "Casey doesn't strike me as the type to let something good slip through her fingers over one moment of caution. She was careful today because she's protecting the both of you, not because she's pulling away." She nudged your coffee closer, like the smallest push in the right direction. "You shouldn't have to carry that fear alone… after all, you are a couple and she loves you. I've known Casey for a while now and I can tell she truly cares about you. She'd probably want to know if you're going through something, especially if she can do something to ease that pain."
You nodded slowly, some of the tightness in your chest finally starting to loosen.
"Thanks, Liv."
"Anytime." She tossed a bill on the table and squeezed your shoulder as she walked away.
--------------------------------------------
Paperwork had never felt so endless.
Your phone buzzed against the desk.
Casey 🍜: Dinner tonight? Or just takeout, if you're tired.
You looked at it. Read it twice. Your thumb even hovered over the keyboard.
And then you set the phone face-down and kept typing your report.
You didn't know why. That was the worst part—there wasn't a reason, not really. Just some quiet, stubborn weight in your chest that wouldn't let your fingers move. You knew Casey hadn't done anything wrong. You knew this wasn't really about dinner, or takeout, or even the courthouse steps this morning.
But some old, tired part of you had already started pulling away before you'd even decided to. Quietly. Just enough. Like if you let the distance in first, on your own terms, it couldn't be used against you later.
It didn't make sense. You knew it didn't make sense. But the part of you steering right now wasn't interested in sense, just in not being the one left standing there if your fear ended up becoming real.
Your phone lit up again. A call this time. Casey's name, her photo, the one you took of her laughing at something you said, wine glass in hand. You watched it ring until it stopped.
This is stupid, you thought. You know she's not the problem. Answer the phone.
You didn't.
Across the bullpen, Olivia's desk phone rang. You weren't listening, not really, until you caught your own name.
"Yeah, she's here," Olivia said, glancing over at you. "Finishing some paperwork."
Your eyes met hers for a second too long. Something passed between you, she didn't say anything else, just a small nod, like she understood exactly what was happening before you'd said a word about it.
She hung up, walked over, and rested a hand on your shoulder.
"Go home," she said, gentle but not a suggestion. "Call her. I'll finish this."
"Liv, I can—"
"Y/N." Just your name, quiet. "Go home."
You didn't call her on the way home. You couldn't make yourself. But somewhere between the precinct and your apartment, you opened the chat thread and stared at it for two full stops on the train.
You: takeout
That was it. That was all you could give it.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Casey: 👍
You stared at the thumbs-up until the letters blurred. Something in your chest cracked open, sudden and stupid and entirely disproportionate to a two-word text exchange, and by the time you got off the train you were blinking hard against tears that made no sense at all. You felt unhinged. Like you were losing your grip on something you couldn't even name.
She didn't do anything wrong, you kept telling yourself. You know that. So why does it feel like this?
When you got home, the smell of reheated lo mein greeted you before Casey did. She was still in her suit pants and button-up shirt, stirring a carton with a fork, hair pulled back messy.
"Hey," she said without turning around. "Figured since you went quiet, you weren't up for going out. Hope Chinese is okay."
"Hi," you said. Your voice came out smaller than you meant it to.
You didn't move closer. You just stood there, in your own doorway, feeling impossibly far away from someone twelve feet away.
Casey turned then, and whatever she saw on your face made her set the fork down immediately.
"Come here," she said, quiet. Not a demand. An offer.
You crossed the kitchen on legs that didn't quite feel like yours, and when she cupped your jaw and kissed you, soft and unhurried, something in your chest that had been holding on all day simply gave out.
You started crying before you even realized you'd started crying. Not delicate tears, the kind that came with a shaking breath and a stupid, mortified apology already forming in your throat.
"Hey, hey." Casey didn't panic. She never did. She just wrapped both arms around you and held on, steady as ever, one hand splayed warm against your back. "I've got you. Breathe with me, okay? In through your nose."
You tried. It took a few attempts before your breath actually followed hers.
"I don't even know why I'm crying," you managed, voice thick and humiliated. "Nothing happened. You didn't do anything. I just- I ignored you all day for no reason, and I don't even know why, and now I can't stop-"
"Shh. You don't have to explain anything right now." She guided you both down onto the couch, pulling you into her side like it was the easiest thing in the world. "Just breathe. We'll talk when you're ready."
She didn't ask you to hurry. She didn't look confused or hurt, even though you knew, rationally, that you'd probably hurt her a little today. She just held you until your breathing evened out and the shaking stopped, and only then, gently, did she ask.
"Tell me what today was really about."
So you did. Haltingly at first, then all at once: the courthouse steps, the coffee with Olivia, the thing you now knew was true and stupid at the same time: that some part of you couldn't let yourself believe something this good was allowed to just be good, so the second anything cracked, even a little, even for a completely reasonable reason, that part of you had gone looking for the bad ending it was so sure was coming.
"And today, when you pulled back on the steps," you said quietly, "I know that wasn't a bad sign. I know you were protecting us. But it still felt like one. And I hated that I couldn't just—turn it off. So some stupid part of me wanted you to feel as bad as I did. Which doesn't even make sense, because none of this is your fault and I can't stand the thought of you hurting."
Casey was quiet for a moment, her fingers moving slowly through your hair.
"It makes more sense than you think," she said finally. "I know that feeling. Waiting for something good to prove itself fake, so you can say you saw it coming instead of getting blindsided." Her voice softened further, almost disbelieving. "Half the time, I don't understand how someone as brilliant, as good, as you somehow ended up choosing me. Some nights I catch myself waiting for the moment you realize you could do better. So believe me, I understand the fear."
You looked up at her, eyes still wet. "That's not fair. You're not supposed to have any of that too."
She huffed something like a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Nobody's supposed to. We just do." Her arms tightened around you. "For what it's worth—I'm not going anywhere. Not because of a dry text message, not because of anything. You hear me, baby?"
You let yourself sink into her, finally, fully, the tension in your shoulders draining out for the first time all day.
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
"You don't need to apologize," Casey murmured against your hair. "You need dinner. It's gotten cold twice now."
You laughed, a little broken, but real.
She kissed your temple once more before easing up to grab the food. "Now scoot over. We're eating on this couch and you're not allowed to disappear on me again today."
You both ate dinner together and thankfully all the overthinking and stressful thoughts were nowhere to be found.
-----------------------------------------
"I can't believe I didn't even think to bring pajamas," Casey said, rifling through your drawer. "Guess I'm stealing one of yours"
"Bad news," you called from the bathroom, "everything's in the laundry bin. I was gonna do a load this weekend."
She appeared in the doorway, eyebrow raised. "Oh really? So what am I supposed to sleep in?"
You crossed your arms, feigning deep consideration. "Guess we'll have to improvise."
"Improvise how, exactly?"
"I'm thinking..." You stepped closer, fingers hooking loosely into the collar of her borrowed shirt. "No pajamas required tonight."
Casey's mouth curved slowly. "Detective, are you propositioning me?"
"Depends. Is it working?"
"Very much so" She pulled you in by the waist before you could say anything else, and the laugh that had been sitting on your lips dissolved the second her mouth met yours.
Her hands slid up your back slow and deliberate, fingertips finding the hem of your shirt and pausing there, silently asking. You answered by pulling it over your head yourself, and she made a low, appreciative sound against your throat that made your knees go a little unreliable.
You returned the favor, working the buttons of her shirt open one by one while she toyed with the clasp of your bra like she had all the time in the world, unhurried even as her breath went uneven against your skin. By the time you'd backed toward the bed, there was a trail of clothes marking the whole path there, and Casey's laugh, soft, warm, a little breathless, was the last clear thing you heard before the lamp clicked off.
------------------------------------------------
Sunlight was already spilling through the gap in the curtains when you woke, warm and golden across the sheets. Casey was still asleep beside you, sprawled on her stomach with one arm tucked under the pillow, and the light caught her hair in a way that stopped you cold, every strand a different shade of copper and gold, scattered messily across the pillow like something out of a painting.
You didn't move. You just watched her, the slow rise and fall of her shoulders, the freckles across her nose you never got tired of counting, the soft, unguarded stillness of her face that she never let the rest of the world see.
You were fairly sure you'd never seen anything more beautiful in your life.
"You're staring," Casey murmured, eyes still closed, voice thick with sleep.
You startled slightly. "I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to." One corner of her mouth tugged upward, though her eyes remained shut. "I can feel it. You've got a very specific kind of staring silence."
"That's not a real thing."
"It absolutely is. I've catalogued it." She finally cracked one eye open, squinting against the sun, and found you already smiling at her.
"The sun really likes your hair," you said, reaching out to brush a strand back from her face, just to feel it slip through your fingers. "Kind of unfair, honestly. Some of us haven't even brushed our teeth yet and you're out here looking like that."
Casey huffed a sleepy laugh, turning her head further into the pillow. "Flattery this early is suspicious."
"It's not flattery if it's true."
That got both her eyes open. She studied you for a moment, something soft and a little disbelieving passing over her face, the same look from last night, like she still hadn't quite gotten used to being looked at like that.
"Come here," she said, voice still rough with sleep, tugging you back down against her shoulder before you could protest the morning breath. "Five more minutes. I need my morning snuggles."
-------------------------
After spending the entire weekend together, you started your week in a much better mood, and Olivia could tell by the look on your face.
Monday was nothing out of the ordinary but Tuesday started a bit different.
You'd almost missed it at first: a tiny paper flower sitting on the corner of your desk, folded with more care than skill, petals slightly uneven. You picked it up, turning it over in your fingers, and something in your chest went warm before you'd even let yourself think about who it might be from.
You had a pretty good guess.
Wednesday brought a small paper bag from the bakery two blocks from the precinct, the good one, the one with the lemon shortbread you'd mentioned exactly once, months ago, in passing. No note. No name.
You didn't need one.
By Thursday there was a teddy bear. Small, a little lopsided, the kind you'd find in a gift shop rather than anywhere fancy, but it was sitting square in the middle of your desk when you got in, like it had been placed there deliberately, patiently, by someone who wanted you to notice without making a scene of it.
After all, you were a detective. You knew exactly what was happening.
You left your desk without a word to anyone and with a smile on your face, walked straight to Casey's office.
She looked up from her paperwork, something amused already tugging at her mouth like she'd been waiting for this exact moment.
"I love you," you said, before she could get a single word out.
Casey blinked, pen stilling. Then her whole face softened into something unguarded, something you'd only seen a handful of times.
"I love you too," she said simply, like it had been sitting there the whole time, ready. Then, after a beat, the corner of her mouth curved. "Did you get the presents?"
"I did." You crossed the room and perched on the edge of her desk. "It's honestly the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."
Casey waved a hand, a little bashful in a way she rarely let herself be. "Come on. It's just some silly trinkets and pastries."
"It's not, though." You reached for her hand, lacing your fingers through hers. "It's not the trinkets. It's that you understood. You saw what happened to me: the overthinking, the spiral, the way one small thing sent me straight into thinking this was all going to fall apart… and instead of just telling me it was fine, you decided to speak my own language back to me. The same way I used to leave things on your desk when I didn't know how to say it out loud."
Casey's expression shifted, something quiet and a little amazed crossing her face, like she hadn't quite thought of it that way herself until you said it.
"If a kiss on the steps was small enough to trigger all that fear," you continued, "then I guess it makes sense that something just as small could undo it. A flower. A cookie. A ridiculous little bear." You squeezed her hand. "And it works, Case. It actually does."
For a moment she just looked at you, something in her eyes gone soft and slightly overwhelmed.
"I didn't know if it would," she admitted quietly.
"Turns out you know me better than I know myself."
Casey smiled and kissed you. Her hands all over you, nothing at all like the careful distance from the courthouse steps. Just the two of you, in her office, exactly the way it had all started.
