#SVU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carisis-girl · 1 day ago

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚

content warnings! smut, age gap, power dynamics (boss-employee relations), dubcon, coercion, penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (reader receiving), daddy kink, breast play, praise kink, exhibitionism, choking kink, sensory deprivation, blindfolding, bondage, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dacryphilia, thigh riding, begging, afab reader uses she/her pronouns, mdni!

synopsis! ada dominick carisi, your ever-so-generous boss, assists you in studying for your upcoming lsat. all he wants is his pretty little paralegal to succeed.

wc! 3.4k+

author’s note! this is probably the wildest fic i’ve wrote so far. i wanted to get this one out before i return to the trenches (college), but i have my freedom back. i also had lock in to do some lsat research for this one.

a much needed dedication to my best friend @dancer545 is in order for this one. we’re interlinked on a cellular level, and our freak charts are very much aligned (low key this is also an apology gift for her since my school is four hours away). ily twin!!!! as always, hope you enjoy <3

━━━━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━━━

“𝐇𝐎𝐖’𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 LSAT prep coming, sweetheart?” Assistant District Attorney Dominick Carisi inquires, observing his paralegal from her place on his office’s sofa. It’s the dead of night, and she had just finished some last minute tasks for him. Even so, she is well within the depths of concentration, evidenced by her furrowed brow, eyes fixated on her test preparation booklet.

She looks up at him, reluctantly tearing her eyes from the current page she is on. “I have a good grasp on most of the material. There’s only a few questions that I’m not sure about yet,” she replies in her soft, euphonious tone. Despite her status as the Manhattan ADA’s paralegal, she was still an undergraduate student, deep into preparation for law school admissions. “All of my recent scores have been within the 160 range. I’m trying to get to above 170,” she shares.

“Honey, your scores are already phenomenal. Don’t stress yourself out too much, okay?” he says, and chuckles. “You’re practically already Lady Justice herself.” She smiles softly at the compliment.

Sonny served as the most ideal role model for her. She viewed him as a bearer of justice. A harbinger of law, and order. But the quality she admired the most about him was his empathy.

There was so much more to him than just his success, his status as a formidable attorney. She accredited that aspect to his upbringing, and to his former role as a Special Victims Unit detective. He didn’t solely care about carrying out the Eighth Floor’s, nor New York’s bidding. Or a paycheck. He genuinely cared about his clients.

He was everything an attorney, a good attorney, was supposed to be. Virtuous, principled, and dignified.

Naturally, she idolized him.

The silver-haired counselor beckons her over to his desk, drawing a chair around so she could join him. “C’mere. Let me help,” he says simply.

She pauses her writing. “Seriously? I’m sure you have much more pertinent matters to attend to with. Not some paralegal’s LSAT woes,” she asks sheepishly.

He chuckles, and shakes his head. “It’s late; I’m practically done for the day. You’re such a big help to me, honey. I’d be runnin’ around like a damn headless chicken without your organization to keep me grounded. It’s the least I can do for ya.”

After a beat, she stands, and sits beside him. “Good girl,” Sonny praises.

“Thank you,” she murmurs softly. “You’ve always been so nice to me.”

Sonny had always gone above and beyond for her, which might have read as abnormal. He’s gotten her flowers for her birthday, taken her out to celebrate after major victories.

What was the most touching to her was the fact that he would allow her to sit in on his closing argument rehearsals. To observe, take notes. Sometimes, he would even go as far to allow her to make her own, as if she was the prosecutor.

Being alone in court, just the two of them felt intimate. In her eyes, it felt sacred.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Smart girl like you? You’ll make a damn good lawyer,” he says, and chuckles. “Now, what exactly are ya struggling with, huh?” he probes as he eyes her Manhattan Review practice booklet.

She sighs. “I don’t have any major issues with the reading comprehension section. I’m doing better with the logical reasoning section, but there are just a few questions that I didn’t attempt.” The logical reasoning section was the Achilles’ Heel of many pre-law students, no matter how bright the mind was. It was intentionally designed in this specific way to force exam takers to really, truly think within time constraints.

He groans, remembering his own LSAT preparations from a lifetime ago. “I feel ya, honey. Just lookin’ at the ones you haven’t answered feels like ‘Nam flashbacks,” he chuckles. “Alright, let’s get this overwith.”

Every correct question results in phrases such as “good girl,” “such a smart girl,” “doin’ so well sweetheart,” and the works. Sonny had an entire dictionary of phrases kept in his mind to use for her, so it seemed.

To her, it seemed sweet. To him, whenever such words fell from his lips, he envisioned himself giving that praise as he fucked her stupid, too mindless to do nothing but babble incoherencies.

“Okay, I see why you skipped this one, honey. This one is a pain in the fuckin’ ass,” he huffed as he reads the next question. He gives her a moment to re-read the question.

“Is it…C?” She hesitates. “Historians sometimes assert that no political movement is genuinely original; each borrows its core ideas from a prior movement. If that were true, every prior movement would itself need an earlier source, producing an endless chain of borrowings—an impossibility. Thus the historians’ assertion must be wrong…?” She asks, voice faltering.

Sonny flips to the back of the booklet. “Atta girl,” he murmurs in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Only…59.1% of practice exam-takers chose C. See, college girl, the issue is these questions are designed to be so dense, it becomes insanely difficult to formulate a logical response.”

As they continue, his praise evolves from just words, to words and casual touches. A ruffling of the hair, shoulder pats, rubbing her arm.

He bites his lower lip as he observes her feeble, pathetic attempts to concentrate. Be it her youth, naïveté, or perhaps embarrassment, she believes that she cannot be read or analyzed; her reactions and thoughts are clandestine.

But he knows she likes it. She can’t even admit it to herself. He’s a prosecutor, a former detective. He has years of meticulous training under his belt to observe every single little, miniscule detail. She answers another question correctly, voice unsteady and meek.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he rasps, and without warning, leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. The abruptness of the unforeseen gesture makes her shiver before she comes back to Earth, moving her lips in sync with his. She whimpers as he slides his tongue into her mouth, and surrenders, body going limp.

“How about this? I know ya aren’t too keen on finishin’ this section. I’m gonna offer you a deal. You get questions you get right, I’ll give ya a reward. How’s that sound?” Sonny purrs, pulling away from her lips, leaving her gasping softly.

“W-What kind of reward?” She breathes shakily. He doesn’t answer immediately, large hands instead beginning to roam her body, pulling her up onto his lap. He finds the buttons on her blue striped blouse, effortlessly undoing them to enter the offending top.

Her breath hitches as his hands wander her torso, shuddering every so often. His hands delve into her bra, cupping her tits from underneath the obstructive garment. Her jaw falls open in a soft, breathy moan as he pinches her nipples.

“Every question you answer correctly, one piece of your clothing comes off,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to the spot just below her ear that he knows will make her body tremble. One of the hands on her breasts travels down, rubbing her thigh suggestively.

All she can do is nod. There was no possible way she could compose a complete, intellectual sentence.

With every correct question, his word prevails. Her blouse leaves her body first. Then her slacks. Her bra is tossed elsewhere in the office. Finally, he’s sliding off her panties, tantalizingly slow until they eventually hit the floor.

All he’s left her in is the scales of justice necklace that falls between her tits.

Sonny has a lap full of naked, squirming paralegal. Her eyes are wide and glassy. It’s clear that she is heavily questioning her reality. She looks up at him. “Am I done?” She asks softly, assuming she is, due to being completely stripped.

“Absolutely fuckin’ not. You need to keep studyin,’ your exam is in a week,” he hums. “Bet you’re soaked, huh?” he coos, and she whimpers at his words. She doesn’t answer.

One of his hands trails down to her dripping cunt, fingers circling her clit. He knows the heat is becoming unbearable for her, tension in her lower belly building.

She gasps and jolts at the sensation, biting at her lower lip to suppress any sounds that spill from her throat. The last thing she wants is to be caught red-handed in the act with her boss, of all people. She would never live down the humiliation.

“Uh-uh, lemme hear ya,” Sonny murmurs, and slides two thick fingers into her. She yelps in surprise, sounds fading into soft moans and whimpers as he begins to work her open.

His free hand flips to the next page, and he forces her to work through the set of problems while he builds a merciless pace, the heel of his palm grinding against her clit as his digits abuse her g-spot, causing a small puddle to form on his lap.

“Um…A?” She manages to whine between her moans. He knows she’s close, she’s right there. Her cunt is clenched so tight around his fingers, like she’s trying to milk them.

“Nuh uh, try again,” and he ceases all movement, making her cry out in protest. “Wait, ‘m so close—” she wails, and is cut off.

“I’m not letting you cum until ya get it right, baby. Try again f’me,” he says firmly.

She stifles a sob of frustration. She’s so close, she’s on the precipice of a mind blowing release. Reluctantly, she reads through the answers again. “It-it’s C,” she sniffles. “Please, can I cum now?” she begs, on the verge of tears. She moans, louder than before, when begins his relentless ministrations once more, tormenting her cunt.

“Yeah? Right there, huh?” he breathes mockingly. She nods frantically, sounds becoming higher in pitch and volume. “Oh, fuck, ‘m gonna—” she slurs, cutting her sentence off with a whine spilling from her lips.

“Good girl. Cum all over daddy’s fingers,” he rasps. Referring to himself as ‘daddy,’ is what drove her over the edge, gushing all over his fingers, babbling incoherent nonsense, orgasm falling over her in waves.

“Oh, good girl, baby. That’s it, take your reward. Makin’ me so proud,” he praises, continuing to gently drive his fingers into her. Her hands fly down, desperately grabbing his wrist as he makes her ride her high out. Her mouth falls open in a silent scream.

Sonny withdraws his fingers, and shifts her now pliable, limp form to straddle his thigh.

“What are you—” she starts, but sobs as he brings her down onto his thigh, forcing her to grind on it, gripping her hips so tight there are bound to be bruises on them when morning comes.

“Too much, Daddy, ‘s too much!” she whines, trying in vain to pathetically wiggle away from the contact of the fabric of his slacks on her now hypersensitive clit.

“But I thought you wanted to cum, sweetheart,” Sonny coos mockingly, and flexes his thigh underneath her, causing her body to shake as he grinds her up and down, not allowing her a moment of reprieve nor recovery in the slightest.

“Ya gotta remember that. What’ve I been tellin’ ya? Can’t leave any arguments up for assumption in court, right?” He chuckles darkly, going as far as to give her further legal advice while torturing her poor pussy. Despite the overstimulation and the sick taunting, she can feel another orgasm approaching, entirely too fast for her body to handle.

“P-Please, I can’t, need a break,” she weeps as her thighs tremble, her slick leaving a damp stain on his trousers. All he does is give her a smile of sadistic satisfaction. He stops controlling her shaky form, and she foolishly thinks he has taken pity on her.

Instead, he ends up removing his tie, wrapping the fabric around her head to shroud her eyes. He fastens it in the back and she involuntarily whimpers. She is unable to get a reading on his face, unable to see what he’s doing. It makes her shiver with worry, along with anticipation, not knowing what he has planned for her.

His hands grip her hips with the same unrelenting force as before, leading her to believe that he’s going to bounce her on his thigh again. But in her dazed and confused state, she didn’t register the sound of his belt being unbuckled, pants being unzipped, or even the fabric falling to the floor beneath him.

Sonny brings her back down, and she gasps audibly as she feels the head of his cock notch at her entrance. Her hands fumble around, in an attempt to steady herself, and finally find purchase on his shoulders.

“Shh. Can you be good for daddy?” He asks softly. The way he switched so effortlessly between merciless to solicitous and sweet made her head spin. It was a dizzying dichotomy, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing so purposely.

After a beat, she nods, having seemingly fallen under his spell. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move how she wanted to. Hell, she couldn’t even think right.

He’s completely and utterly clouded her senses, taken control of her body, turned her mind into mush so the one thing she’s certain of is him. She’s at his command.

He hums approvingly, and gently sinks her down onto his length, until he’s buried to the hilt. She croaks out a weak cry, adjusting to the stretch, walls fluttering to accommodate his size.

“Look at you. So pretty, sweetheart,” Sonny groans, head slightly tipped back. The sight of her blindfolded, speared on his cock nearly makes him cum on the spot. “You doin’ okay?”

“I can feel you in my fucking throat,” she manages to squeak out.

“That can be arranged,” he answers smugly. She can practically see his smirk through the tie. He gently begins to move her up and down on his length. Her soft whimpers and whines of discomfort gradually turn into moans and soft cries.

“You’re already fuckin’ creamin’ on me,” he rasps out, observing the said ring that’s formed around the base of his cock, all from her. He bounces her faster and harder on his lap, grinning as her sounds reach a crescendo, legs shaking, heat pooling in her lower belly.

Tears begin to soak through the fabric of the tie. She’s cursing, slurring her words, incoherencies spilling from her throat. “This suits you, ya know. Now you’re really impartial, sweetheart,” he moans.

The realization washes over her. The blindfold. Impartiality. Sonny had often affectionately referred to her as a modern-day reincarnation of Lady Justice, due to her wit, principles, and determination. Guilt and white-hot arousal course through her veins. To her, it feels blasphemous. Being fucked while depicting the very personification of the morals she is supposed to uphold, to one day swear an oath to. The symbol she wears around her throat, the one she sees every single day.

One of Sonny’s hands comes down to between where their bodies meet, fingers beginning to rub her clit again, all while effortlessly still forcing her to ride him. “Fuck, oh god-” she croaks, “Take-take it off,” she begs, attempting to claw at the tie that covers her eyes; she wants to see him.

She’s completely at his mercy, a truly pathetic display. “Yeah? You want it off, huh?” He mocks, grinning as she begs. “Please, daddy, please, wan’ it off,” she garbles. He gives in to her pleas. “We’ll compromise,” he chuckles. He removes the tie from her face, and instead ties it around her wrists. “Good girl. You just earned yourself your first plea deal,” he praises, the legal jargon going over her head.

“Fuckin’- get over here,” Sonny suddenly curses, and unceremoniously shifts her onto her back, so she lays atop his desk, before roughly thrusting back into her.

His hips plow into hers, thrusting into her soaked cunt, eyes glazed over as if he’s intoxicated. Her head is spinning, tears freely flowing down her cheeks. “‘S’good, daddy!” She cries brokenly. “Look at you, cryin’ over my cock. Filthy girl,” he grunts. The desk creaks with the effort of his thrusts, adding to the disgusting cacophony of sounds that fill his office.

One of his hands gently wraps around her throat, squeezing lightly. Ecstasy runs rampant through her veins, and her eyes flutter close as her jaw drops, a squeal escaping her. “‘M’gonna-” she starts. He doubles down in his efforts, thrusting into her tight heat at a bruising pace, angled perfectly to abuse that special spot inside her. She claws at his shoulders, legs shaking of their own accord as her cries border on desperate.

“You close, huh?” He groans, sweat beginning to bead across his forehead, face lines crinkled at his unyielding effort as he pounds into her. “Cum all over daddy,” he orders. The simple order is enough to send her hurtling over the edge. The band that had been tightening in her lower body finally snaps, and she sobs out as she gushes onto his cock, a puddle of her own slick forming on the pristine wood of the desk.

Despite her earth-shattering release, she manages to wrap her legs around him, ankles crossed behind him in a vice-like grip. The sensation of being physically unable to pull out of her abused cunt, already clenching down on him, sends him head first into an orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans, “Good girl, daddy’s gonna cum,” he grunts before spilling deep inside her.

He pulls out of her slowly, watching his cum leak out of her abused hole. Her eyes are wide and watery; entirely glassed over, like she’s in a trance.

She whimpers as two of his fingers enter her, fucking his load back into her. “Don’t wanna waste any, do we sweetheart?” He coos at her. He smirks as he curls his fingers, purposely hitting her g-spot. She yelps, hips bucking in a feeble attempt to get away from him. “Oops,” he muses sarcastically, not in the least bit remorseful for his act. Satisfied, he withdraws his fingers from her.

“Shh, breathe, sweetheart,” Sonny says softly, brushing away the hairs sticking to her sweat-dampened forehead. “You did so well for me.”

He walks across the room, and gently lays her down on the couch as he kneels in front of her, pressing kisses to her forehead, cheeks, and finally her lips. “There ya go,” he praises as her breathing begins to even out. “I’ll jus’ be a minute, baby,” he murmurs.

She hums in acknowledgment, fucked dumb enough she can’t speak right. She’s completely and utterly spent, trembling slightly. Her mascara has been cried off, black smudged across her cheeks.

Sonny heads over to his desk, and pours her a glass of water. He walks back over to her. “Can you sit up a bit, sweet girl?” He probes softly. She manages to hoist herself up, leaning back against the leather of the sofa. “Good girl.”

He hands her the glass of water. “Slow sips. Can ya do that f’me?” She nods, doing as she’s told. He smiles softly, and gently wipes away the smudged mascara.

“Thank you,” she rasps out, having screamed her throat hoarse.

It’s a task to get her redressed, due to her still shaky legs, but he manages to get her clothing on, holding her steady. She shudders at the sensation of his cum that he had fingered back inside her starting to drip out once more into her panties.

Despite how rough he was with her, his compassionate nature, as always, comes front and center. Sonny drives her home, hand gently rubbing her thigh the whole way.

Thankfully, she only lives on the second floor of her apartment building, so she manages to get to her door with his assistance. She fumbles for her keys, unlocking the door. She’s about to step inside when she looks up at him, as if making a silent request.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Sonny asks, initially concerned. She reaches out, taking one of his hands, gently tugging him closer.

“Could you help me study some more?” she asks softly. When he realizes she’s looking at him with her big, puppy eyes, he smirks.

Even after being fucked within an inch of her life, she wants more.

“You’re gonna make a persuasive lawyer, baby,” he chuckles and allows himself to be pulled into her apartment, already loosening his tie.

#sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi smut #dominick carisi x reader #sonny carisi #dominick carisi #dominick carisi jr #law and order svu #l&o svu #law and order special victims unit #svu #svu fic #smut #carisis-girl #i’m so normal abt him #i need that old man #holy freaked out #I just KNOW it’s big.#if i could only apply this brainpower to academics

36 notes · View notes

iwoulddieforher · 2 days ago

Text

Green Light | 8 | a.cabot × c.novak

premise— this work is chapter 8 of a longer one, the rest of the series you can find here.

summary— Alex & Casey bond ... And Alex, similarly, bonds with ... a cat. 4.2k words

warnings— very brief reference of domestic abuse, but this chapter is essentially the lesbian equivalent of fan service, which means cats instead of sex, although sex is great too (but does not happen in this chapter)

It was a day clouded over with the most miserable type of weather. Rain pattered against the windows insistently, but in random intervals- just as one thought it was safe to go out to grab coffee or to make trips between buildings one would be caught with the downpour, but while sitting safely inside, it wasn't.

“Are you ready to go?” Alex knocked on Casey’s office door and the redhead looked up with a bright look that was, to Alex's eyes, more than obviously forced.

The lines beneath her eyes were more emphasized, and her hair was tousled the way Alex was used to seeing it after a long day, the strands near her parting messed gently in the way that signalled her hand had been running through it.

Alex opened her mouth to inquire if Casey was alright, but she supposed it was obvious enough that the young woman was tired and a bit frazzled, and Casey would deny it regardless.

“Yes,” Casey said, her voice a forced sort of high, “Yeah, I’m all done with these, just let me sign the last couple pages and we’ll be on our way.”

Alex nodded easily, leaning against the doorframe and letting her eyes half-lid, a yawn suppressed on her lips. It had been a long day for her too- but thankfully, something she had sincerely crossed her fingers for and was rather ecstatic had come true- nothing involving the trafficking case had surfaced that might drag her or Casey away from the plans they’d made.

She felt mildly guilty about that, of course- she shouldn’t be glad about no major breakthroughs. But still. Casey was starting to feel progressively important to her, and she’d have felt incredibly weary to miss the opportunity to finally gain decisive information regarding the wellbeing of an enigmatic redhead.

Casey signed off on the last reports she’d had on her docket, and then collected what she needed- her purse, her coat and her scarf as the dreary weather outside hadn’t yet managed to clear, before standing with another curt, intended smile and following Alex when she sidestepped away from the door’s opening.

“You’re tired today-” Alex murmured, an observation instead of a question, “Anything particularly taxing? Anything I could potentially help with?”

“It’s alright,” Casey said, a bit too automatically for Alex’s liking, but Alex could only smile encouragingly and nod.

The streetside was busy the way that New York’s prime city often was, especially on a Friday, but with weather like this, it wasn’t as bad as it potentially could’ve been. Clouds filled the sky like overbearing rags and the air had a crisp note to it that simultaneously felt good but brought the promise of rain which had many people acting as though they were speeding up what they needed to do in order to avoid what would soon be a shower.

“This is my favorite type of weather,” Alex sighed, “I don’t like when it’s too warm out.”

“I like it for this sort of thing,” Casey breathed in agreement, “It’s nice to wander the streets with someone at this time of day with this sort of atmosphere. But for softball, I’ll always prefer it to be sunny.”

Alex flashed her a smile. “Your hair shines all golden when you play in the sun- I’d admit, it would be far less entertaining to watch you play in overcast lighting.”

Alex had won herself the first genuine smile she’d seen from Casey that day, and she was very triumphant about that.

The streets grew steadily more crowded when they approached the more night-lifesque areas, away from the prim office buildings and overboarding sense of authority Alex had come to associate herself with, and when people began to come a bit closer than Alex would entirely prefer, she felt Casey’s hands brush her shoulder gently.

The look in Casey’s eyes seemed odd- interesting, not odd, actually- but it was clear the amount of people around them wasn’t something she was entirely comfortable with, either.

Alex moved her arm, so that her hand was barely within the pocket she had settled it in prior, so that her elbow was extended out wordlessly. Casey slipped her hand from Alex’s shoulder to interlink her own arm with Alex’s, and then resumed walking.

“Thank you,” Casey said a few moments after, and Alex blinked at her with a small portion of her inner cheek between her teeth so she wouldn’t be smiling with an air of self satisfaction.

“For what?” Alex replied. It wasn’t a real question, and they both knew that- she was simply refusing the gratitude for something that had come so easily for her entirely, and Casey flashed her raised eyebrows but seemed content with that sort of reply.

They made a couple more steps, Casey falling into a comfortable gait beside her, Alex’s arm brushing against Casey’s side with every movement and vice versa. Easy conversation began to flow similarly, about nothing but also able to make Casey begin to smile and make witty responses that made Alex either scoff in amusement or laugh.

“I like this,” Alex said smoothly at some point, “It’s been a while since I’ve- I mean, I have my circle the way I’m sure you do too, but- I’m glad we started talking, Casey.”

“Me too,” Casey responded immediately, although her voice was hushed as thought it was something secretive. “Talking to you feels- easy.”

“I’m glad,” Alex chuffed, and felt the immediate odd urge to be closer to her.

A nag at the back of her mind told her that it was cruel to continue the facade of friendship, but she dismissed it quickly.

If Casey turned out to be perfectly fine, with a loving fiance to return home too who would never dream of touching her, Alex had already decided that the redhead’s company was more than enough to continue seeking her out. She wanted to be friends, genuinely friends, with Casey. And it seemed like, happily enough, Casey wanted to be friends with her, too.

She felt a bit old to be this happy about friendship. But with the way Casey’s dimples flashed when she sent Alex a smirk at an observation about something she had found funny, her mind was quickly consumed with that, instead.

“Alex- wait.”

Alex obediently froze, turning her head and then following Casey’s gaze to a rather shoddy looking cafe in which possibly the most fluffy looking ginger cat was perched in the windowsill, staring back at Casey as though they were mutually appraising each other.

“That is the furriest cat I’ve ever seen in my life,” Casey said slowly.

“Agreed,” Alex responded, although it was very obvious Casey’s attention was wholly enraptured, which she found rather cute. Green eyes had blown wide as though staring at the most enchanting thing she’d seen in weeks.

Casey bit her lip, hesitating with a level of dramatics that Alex found further amusing, because Alex had already figured out what Casey was about to ask and if the younger woman was this interested in this cat Alex was more than happy to divert drinking plans in favor of this very, very fluffy cat.

“Would you be alright if we-”

Alex unlinked her arm from Casey’s and then went straight for the door, opening it and extending a hand in a ‘after you’ motion in unison with the little chime the bell above the door made. Casey clasped her hands together and flashed her an excited grin which made the muscles around Alex’s heart to feel strangely- warm. Like she might be glowing internally.

“A cat person, then, I take it?” Alex mused, glancing around what seemed to be a surprisingly cozy, artistic-looking coffee place. Why they were open at eight in the night on a Friday, though, Alex wasn’t entirely sure.

“Animals in general,” Casey smiled, a wide, enthusiastic one, “I grew up with dogs, but there was a stray who used to come around when I was in middle school, and I adored her.”

Alex wasn’t sure what she expected when she had confidently opened the door, but when Casey set out for a table near the window where the ginger cat had turned to continue to regard her with very large, very green eyes, she assumed they were staying. There weren't any other patrons of the cafe and that simultaneously made her wary but also a bit more at ease after the bustling nature of the streets outside.

The couch Casey settled in, knees first with her heels hanging off the side to better face the cat she promptly began to lavish with attention, was comfortable. A faded leather that matched the interior of the store as a whole, with claw marks down the side of it- Alex could assume the culprit.

The rest of the cafe was furnished with a similar nature- sofas, low dining tables and chairs surrounding circular tables, all mismatched but in a way that seemed collected and intentional. Someone had clearly put effort into making the place seem artisanal, gently chaotic but warm. The air was filled with the scent of some well made coffee, and some sort of fruity tea, honey and a trace of something else, darker, like cedar or oak. Alex had no argument to staying here for longer than she had originally expected too.

When she looked back towards Casey from the brief pause of observing her surroundings, and when she did the redhead had spun herself around, and the ball of pure fluff masquerading as a feline was perched in her lap as though this had been the original plan all along. A soft rumbling sound accompanied what Alex assumed was the mechanical components of a coffee maker and Alex realized that the cat had already begun purring under the careful motions of Casey’s gentle hands.

“Have you ever kept a pet, Alex?” Casey inquired, her face lit up when she looked up from the cat, and Alex’s first thought was that she hoped Casey could keep this cat on her shoulder or lap for the rest of her life if it meant she’d look this content more. She felt the urge to cup Casey’s cheeks in her hands and tell her to keep the fucking cat forever, that she’d buy it off the cafe owner, do whatever necessary to do to keep this cat in Casey’s arms if it seemed to be so effective at negating the stress of her day.

“I-” Keep yourself composed, Alex- “No, I haven’t. My parents always said that we travelled too much, or that they worked too much- But I think they’re not really… animal keepers.”

“What a shame,” Casey sighed, “I think everyone should grow up with pets. Someone to love you even in your worst lows, no judgement, no anything, they’re just always ecstatic that you’re there.”

The cat continued to purr, standing only to begin walking in semicircles around Casey’s seated self, rubbing its chin and neck against her torso, which made her eyes blink back down to focus on it instead.

Alex was completely content, for these minutes and however long Casey would be entertained doing so, to simply sit there and watch Casey’s face and her eyes as she fixated on the feline who had so decided to love on her.

“Hey, sorry, we’re a bit short staffed at the moment- I’m lying, the rest of the staff are distracted with the cats in the back room- sorry you had to wait to be greeted.”

The blonde looked up to see a young waitress- barely above college age, if at all- with a very eager yet apologetic smile sliding two menu cards across the table in front of the couch the two lawyers were seated. Curly brown hair and a tanned face full of freckles, an apron tied with a large bow Alex could see the sides from around her waist.

Alex smiled back politely, picking up one of the offered cards and quickly scanning the contents. Casey would jolt at the implication they’d be staying there extensively unless Alex made the first move too, and as previously stated, if cats made Casey this relaxed Alex would prefer she was able to stay with the cat as long as she wanted too.

“No worries,” she said, “I’ll have- a cappuccino, if that’s alright.”

“Make that two,” Casey responded immediately but it was obvious that wasn’t the main thing she was focused on, “Did you say cats, plural?”

“Yes,” the waitress smiled brightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and lowering her gaze to the beast of ginger fuzz that seemed to like Casey so much, “We’re actually- we’re having an adoption event here, tomorrow. We brought the cats in a bit early to try to acclimate them to the cafe.”

“Ah,” Alex said, her eyes flicking immediately to Casey with a raised brow, but the redhead looked suddenly rather distant, so Alex diverted her gaze back to the waitress quickly.

“There’s so many cats at the shelters near here that they’re overcrowded and- you know, the ones who don’t get adopted get put down, so… we got all the certificates required to try to turn this place into a sort of cat cafe. If patrons get attached to a certain cat, they could take him or her home, and even if they don’t get adopted, it’s better for the cats to be able to get love and attention and a safe place to be in instead of a shelter without space for them.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Casey said softly, kindly, and the waitress beamed.

“Thank you- I came up with it. This place is owned by a very lovely couple who live upstairs and I’ve been working here since I started university but there isn’t much- I mean, we have our regulars, but most people don’t care much for sit down cafes around there anymore. And all our drinks are old style, made with love and not the fancy faster machines, so obviously- prices are a bit higher, you know. I wouldn’t trade it, but many people would.”

She was an anxious talker, Alex reflected. Eager and shy yet still managed to carry herself with a breed of enthusiasm that was intriguing, and many other people lacked. Casey seemed to like her, the redhead was smiling at her, and Alex’s spine relaxed from the sudden appearance then too.

“I’ll get your orders in- it’ll only be a few moments. Some of the other cats might come out to say hiya.”

The waitress waived her goodbyes and set off back behind the currently unattended counter, one that was a square in the side of the room that had a door that led to a kitchen, and the second she opened the door a few loud miaus of what seemed to most likely be a chorus of cats rang out. Casey beamed and Alex was made very happy by that.

A few moments ticked by, filled with Casey who began to spout random stories involving her childhood dogs and the stray cat she used to care for, and Alex smiled and nodded along although if she was very honest with herself she might be paying more attention to the shine of Casey’s excited eyes and the pink of her lips as they moved quickly in her storytelling rather than seriously listening to each recounted tale.

“You’re good with cats,” Alex commented, when two more approached Casey or looked up at her with wide eyes and slightly dilated slit pupils, and she chuffed.

“Cats like people who aren’t overeager in approaching them- if it’s obvious you want to engage with them, but you give them their space, they’ll take it as you respecting boundaries and then be more likely to come let you pet them.”

Sort of like you, Alex reflected.

The way Casey had regarded her at first, with that note of professionality and ambition that she was so used to others maintaining around her, had since faded as they became friends. The sense that Casey was putting on an act to see if Alex’s favor could, in turn, win her favors had lessened considerably as she grew genuinely comfortable. Alex wasn’t sure what the human equivalent of being pet was, but if it was simply coffee and company and getting to admire her up close, she deemed herself as having achieved that.

“If you like pets so much- why don’t you have one? Or do you have one?” Alex asked, her voice a bit soft because she remembered the immediate wall that had gone up when the waitress had mentioned adoption and shelters, and Casey visibly faltered.

“I… my fiance, he’s- I’m not sure a pet would be ideal given the way things are right now.” Casey responded, her voice a forced tone of light. “But his family keeps dogs and I’m sure that … eventually, we’ll probably end up with one.”

‘Given the way things are right now’. Alex’s throat went dry.

“I think she likes you,” Casey jumped topics quickly, and at first Alex thought she was simply diverting until she realized that Casey might be right.

The most- well, frankly- regal looking cat Alex had even seen had jumped up beside her so softly Alex had failed to notice.

Black fur that looked almost silken, alert ears tinged with fluff and a languidly long, agile body sat next to her very casually, not a sound made and yet the cat’s presence was more notable to Alex then that of any of the other cats who had come to investigate Casey’s presence and since left. Alex, herself, had paid little attention to the felines; she didn’t know what to do with them and they seemed to sense that.

Wide amber eyes, with a certain- well, Alex felt silly for projecting such personified characteristics onto a cat- knowing aspect to them blinked slowly up at her.

“She’s slow-blinking at you,” Casey said, her voice regaining its genuinely lighthearted note, and now with a certain level of amusement when Alex went a bit stiff and a bit unsure of how to proceed, “That means she likes you. Pet her, Alex.”

“I… Okay,” Alex murmured, blue eyes darting to watch Casey’s hand as it stroked back and forth across the brown tabby patterned fur of the cat Casey had begun to entertain since the ginger one has resumed its gatekeeper post at the windowsill, and then gently trying to mimic it on the black cat’s own. It moved its head immediately and narrowed its eyes as though trying to remind her she had missed something. Alex turned to Casey with a bit of bewilderment and it was obvious the younger woman was biting back a chuckle.

“Extend your hand near her head, but not that close.” Casey instructed, and Alex did so, trying not to let her hand shake or move at all when the black cat slowly elongated the ebony of its neck to sniff softly at her hand, a black-tipped nose barely bumping against the skin of one of her knuckles.

The cat leaned back then, slowly, as if content, and then looked up at Alex again as if trying to encourage her second attempt. Casey laughed and told her to do so when Alex looked back at her with a furrowed brow, and so she did, and this time the cat allowed it.

“She’s- she’s really soft.” Alex marvelled slowly. It wasn’t the first time she had pet a cat, obviously, but something seemed… different about this one. This cat seemed to know something about her, with those big owlish eyes.

“Oh, Constellation seems to like you.” The waitress said, reappearing with two teacups on a black circular tray. “Interesting.”

“Constellation?” Alex asked, looking up, although immediately letting her eyes be pulled back down, because the act of being chosen by this particular cat seemed oddly sacred and she didn’t want the cat to lose interest and abandon her now that she had been made to feel so special by its attention.

“Her name’s Constellation,” the waitress confirmed, “But the people at the shelter called her Connie. She was- if I remember right- found as a stray when she was around an estimated six years old, but they assumed someone had dumped her because she was obviously well-fed. They called her Connie. She was one of the ones we took because they were going to put her down- she’d been in and out of the shelter for four years, she kept getting adopted but then given back for being antisocial, and they didn’t have the room for her anymore, and not when she kept being returned.”

“Who’d ever dream of returning you?” Alex asked the cat softly, stroking the top of Connie’s head as gently as she could, and the cat blinked up at a purr as if she was snarkily agreeing to the audacity of someone giving her up.

“Frankly, I was worried, because she doesn’t get along with me- or the rest of the staff either, I’m not egotistical, I swear- but she seems … to like you, just fine.”

“Why?” Alex breathed slowly, as Connie seemed to make herself more comfortable, curling up in a perfectly circular ball by Alex’s side and leaning the side of her chin against Alex’s thigh.

“Cats know things,” Casey said simply. “Cats can tell when someone’s a good … an incredible person.”

The compliment turned the tip of Alex’s ears red and she untucked her hair quickly with her unoccupied hand lest it be noticed.

The rest of the evening surpassed with Casey entertaining a great deal of cats- Alex would not be surprised at all if she’d been greeted by every cat in the establishment, after the first few had gone to the back to encourage the rest to come meet her- and Constellation tucked snugly in Alex’s side like she was a fur-coated black puzzle piece who had always simply meant to fit right there.

“I wonder if I’m home enough to keep a cat,” Alex ventured slowly, eventually, and Casey smiled immediately and turned to her with a bright look in green eyes.

“If she’s antisocial- like they said, but all that really means is that she likes her space- I’m sure she’d do well with you. I mean, home for the nights and enough to take care of her, and then she can have the days to sunbathe and be content in her solitude.”

Alex paused, her eyes still down on the soft ebony of Constellation’s head, and swallowed. She had no concerns at all regarding the cost of cat equipment, most obviously. And if dear sweet Connie would be okay with her lone time while Alex was at the office, then- well…

“And if you get her,” Casey said with a laugh, “I’ll make tons of excuses to come over and see your cat.”

They left when the cafe closed, at ten. Casey told her that her fiance must be home waiting, and excused herself to find a cab. Alex spent a solid few moments staring at the darkened windows of the cafe before turning and letting her heels echo on her walk back to where her car had been parked near the office building.

Amazon packages arrived at her door the next morning with overnight delivery she swooned over, with a cat bed and an automatic litterbox and cat toys and a brush specifically for a certain black-haired feline.

And after work, she found herself back in the doorway of the cafe, hearing the identical chime when she opened the door. It was crowded today. There were barely any free seats, with couples and families and a few solo patrons fawning over small furry bodies and cats running around chasing after small plastic balls with bells trapped inside that rolled around the floor frantically trying to escape them.

The waitress from last night glanced over between the busy tables, recognized her, and laughed.

“Connie’s in the back waiting for you,” she informed, “She hasn’t come out to explore with anyone else today.” Alex had barely been inside a few moments before the lithe black feline trotted up to her with an air of confidence and slipped between her heeled shoes as though completely aware Alex had decided to second Casey had supported the idea that this cat would be finding a home with her.

Alex fell asleep that night on her own couch, laying on her side, with a ball of black fur tucked snugly beside her ribs and the soft purr of a ‘solitary’ cat humming in her ear.

#casey novak #calex #alex cabot #svu #casey novak x alex cabot #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #lesbian

25 notes · View notes