#Rafael Barba fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

winchesterszvonecek · 3 months ago

Note

could i please request ‘sex in a pool/hot tub’ for rafael barba

fem!reader :)

Hot Tub - [ Rafael Barba ] 18+

Prompt: Sex in a pool/hot tub

Word Count: 2678

Warnings: female!reader, smut - [vaginal fingering, semi-public masturbation]

A/N: this is my first oneshot in a while so yk, be nice :) also it’s my first one for rafael too, both in general and with smut so yeah… i wasn’t even going to post it but i figured why not? it might not be that bad so maybe yall can still enjoy it

Masterlist | Rafael Masterlist

After a long day spent on the icy slopes of Switzerland’s most famous ski resort, you were in desperate need of relaxation.

It wasn’t easy at times, keeping up with Rafael. Of chasing his constant need for adrenaline and following through on the utter thrill of hitting the ramps, landing with perfect grace in the thick snow each and every time. To be honest, it was rather frightening. You’d never skied before in your life and the entire time you were too afraid to hit any jumps that were higher than a foot or too. Most of the time you just sat there, making small snowmen in the snow as you waited for time to tick by.

Rafael didn’t mind though. He knew the only reason you’d come here was because of him, so he was more than happy to let you stay in your safety zone whilst he got the chance to show off around you — something you’d rolled your eyes at in the beginning but by the second or third day, had secretly grown to love. And he knew it. It’s why he kept going the rest of the day, gliding and zipping through the air like a damn expert and finding amusement in the way you’d dramatically roll your eyes each time he did.

To tell the truth, you didn’t like skiing one bit. It was scary, and dangerous, and you, for some reason, kept imagining that the Abominable snowman from that one Scooby-Doo movie was going to rise from the ground and kidnap you. It made you shiver just thinking about it. About some giant snowman's hands picking you up and carrying you away.

Terrifying, honestly.

But really, the only true reason you kept shivering was merely because it was freezing. It was so utterly cold as the snow fell around you that your nose was always red, you couldn’t even feel your ears and most importantly your skin kept stinging even beneath your snowsuit. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, and all you ever wanted, from the moment you woke up, was for the day to be over so that you could finally get back to the cosiness of your cabin and slip into the blazing heat of the hot tub.

It may have been outside as well, and it may have been rather chilly as you ran to it but once you slid into the bubbles, it was like ascending into heaven. Or hell, given that it was warm, but whatever. It was simply perfect, and even more so when Rafael’s arms wrapped tightly around you, allowing the two of you to do nothing but bask in the comforting heat of the bubbles as you relished in each and every touch he would grace you with.

Only tonight, as you sunk happily into the cosy warmth of the water and felt the first sharp shiver of the goosebumps that riddled every inch of your skin at the sudden change in temperature, you got an idea. A far, far better idea of how to warm yourself up — Of how best to warm yourself up, and without the sole use of the jacuzzi’s bubbles… as by the time you’re done, they’re gonna be the very last thing present on your mind.

“Mi cariño, what are you doing all the way over there?” Rafael asked, tilting his head curiously as he watched you settle yourself opposite him, which was unlike any other night before when you had practically placed yourself on his lap and sucked all the heat from beneath his skin.

“There’s better jets on this side,” You said plainly, biting down on your bottom lip as you spread your legs as wide as you could.

He couldn’t see you clearly though, it was too dark. The bulb on the porch didn’t provide much actual, usable light but the two of you never really cared. You were always close enough for him to see, yet tonight he simply couldn’t see anything but the partially darkened shape of your figure sitting there quietly. He couldn’t see the small quirks of your mouth at the forceful brush of the jet against your sweet spot, the one that made you bite down hard on your lip in order to keep quiet. He couldn’t see the scheming glint that got lost in the lust that swallowed your eyes as you watched him, that one, small ray of light cascading over his face perfectly and allowing you to see the utter confusion that riddled his eyes.

He hadn’t figured it out yet, that much you were certain of. He didn’t know what your agenda was. What you were planning. It was all completely unknown to him, and quite frankly it was completely unexpected too, given your job. You were a sex crimes detective. You were well aware of the consequences of public masturbation and public sex, and never once would Rafael have ever thought you would risk your career to simply try it. But if you were being honest, that innocence he thought you had… That shyness you gave off mixed with your secret rush for knowing what it would feel like to tick public sex off your bucket list only made you that much more hot under your metaphorical collar and you couldn’t stop yourself from expressing it.

You spread your legs further, allowing the brute force of the jet to hit so right… So toe curlingly perfect against your sensitive clit that you threw out your arms to grip behind you, splashing water over the edge of the hot tub as you leaned your head back, letting the sweetest, most breathy, most arousal inducing moan pass over your lips.

Rafael was by your side in an instant, the water shifting so furiously around you that your body jerked back against the hard surface of the tub as settled himself down next to you. His eyes were wide from shock. From lust. From pure and utter deviance as he knew all too well what you were doing. He’d heard stories of women using water jets to get themselves off but he never so much as expected to hear you talk about doing it let alone actually see you. And in a public space such as this.

“You’re taking a big risk, mi amor,” Rafael whispered, leaning in to brush his lips lightly over your neck as he delved his hand down into the water, running two fingers painfully slowly over the thin cover of your bikini and stopping the jet from reaching you. “Exposing yourself out here like this?” He shook his head and tutted.

“It’ll be worth it,” You whispered, pushing his hand aside as you knew it would rile him up real good to see you get off on something other than his cock, his fingers or his mouth. And you were right, his eyes darkened the second you rocked your hips over the jet and as each sweet sounding whimper left your lips, his right eye would twitch in frustration. “Because God does this feel so, so good for me.”

As the pleasure driven words left your lips and only added to Rafael’s ever growing desire for you, you reached behind your neck and undid your bikini top, allowing it to fall gracefully forwards and expose the soft mounds of your breasts. Rafael’s eyes fell to them instantly like a heat seeking missile, his pupils blown wide with hunger and his need for dominance as he watched you trail your fingertips slowly up the valley of them.

You knew he always loved your breasts. Caressing them. Kissing them. Having them roll over his chest with every thrust of his cock inside you, anything he could do to simply feel them, he would, and you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth that it was driving him mad to see you be the one to touch them. To see you kneading them. To see you pinching and rolling those hardened buds between your fingers as you began to pant softly from the pure heat bubbling down around your pussy had him all but drooling with rage.

“You better stop that,” He demanded, his tone ripped right out of the courtroom as though you were a simple perp he was trying to break. You did nothing but grin mischievously at him, a soft, throaty whimper leaving your parted lips that had him thrust one hand down through the surface of the water and go straight to his hardening cock, rubbing it through the thin lining of his shorts and thinking of all the things he could do to you tonight. “Mi amor… I’m warning you.”

“You want me to stop?” You teased, mimicking his motions and happily going to touch yourself as even though the jet felt incredible, it wasn’t anywhere near what you needed tonight. You kept eye contact as you slid beneath your bottoms, the sloshing of the water slowly picking up around you as you drew faster and faster circles on your clit, making your own eyelids flutter in a way that drove Rafael crazy. “You're… Fuck… You’re gonna have to make me.”

Lifting off his seat with such force that it sent a wave of water spilling over the edge of the hot tub, Rafael grabbed your body and lifted you effortlessly off your own, a rather surprised squeal leaving your lips at the sudden rush of anticipation that flew through your veins. He spun you around, falling back onto the very jet that you’d just been pleasuring yourself on as you straddled his strong thighs, his mouth already working its way along the length of your neck, leaving hot, fiery kisses the whole way down as he headed for the delicious sight of your inviting breasts.

As his lips trailed down between the valley he shifted right, his tongue instantly swirling hot around your nipple as he got to work unravelling you. You gripped the back of his hair immediately, holding him closer to your chest as you tightened your legs around him, rolling your hips over his rock hard erection in a way that had him moan against your breast and take your nipple firmly between his teeth.

The sound that left your lips as he tugged at it was indescribable, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled back, taking your lips in his as the desperate urge to feel every single part of you he could at once washed over him. You hummed softly into his mouth as he began to gently caress your waist, grazing his soft palms so slowly across every inch of your skin before dipping his fingertips deep into the flesh of your hips as he tugged you forward, one hand slipping down as you moved and quickly making its way beneath your bikini. He spread you open in an instant, your soft gasps escaping into his mouth as he ghosted his fingertips across the throbbing bud of your clit, feeling as you ground down against him for some much needed stimulation.

It was only then, when you whimpered out of dire need to have him inside you, did he plung himself right up and into you, his two thick fingers sliding so easily and so swiftly into your soaking pussy that you had to draw back. A long babble of swear words left your lips the second you did and he lingered inside you, his thumb teasing your aching clit before he curled his fingers ever so slightly and slowly began to pump them into you.

Even submerged in the water he could feel how wet you were. The slight thickness to your arousal as it coated his fingers and spilled out over his knuckles each time he thrust hard into you was unmissable and every drop of it that landed on him made him twitch beneath his shorts. God, he simply couldn’t wait to feel it around his cock and so he picked up the pace, your breathy pants like music to his ears as he pressed his thumb even hard atop your clit, moving in such slow, teasing circles compared to his thrusts that he could already feel you clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck… You’re even better than the jets,” You whimpered subconsciously, the mere sound of you alone, mixed with how truly senseless he was fucking you, making Rafael shudder fiercely as he leaned in to kiss you, wanting to taste the rest of the moans he was about to pull from you. Your hands slid up the length of his arms, clinging to his shoulders for much needed support as you moved your hips along with him, feeling as that pressure deep inside you quickly began to build at the new sensation of the ride.

“You think you can take a third, mijo?” Rafael whispered against your lips, yet he didn’t even wait for your desperation fuelled head nod before he slipped it snugly into you, having you cry out in sheer pleasure at the sudden way you stretched wider around him.

You dropped your head forwards, pressing your face into the crook of his neck as he quickened his pace. You’d truly never felt anything like this before in your life, the way his fingers slid so quickly and so easily into you was sending you to further reaches that you’d ever felt before, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until toppled over.

And you were right, as after one last thrust of his fingers that he paired expertly with a perfectly pressured rub of your clit, he sent you hurtling over the edge into a pure and utter mind boggling pit of pleasure.

Your hips stilled as you practically burst on top of him, your deep, breathy moans unfortunately muffled against the crook of his neck as he carried you through it, causing him to tilt it slightly in order to hear you. And once he did, his own eyes rolled back into his head as he continued to circle your throbbing clit, prolonging your orgasm as much as humanly possible so as to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of you as he could.

As you slowly began to come down, your chest heaving rapidly against his own, Rafael finally stopped, having brought you to the very brink of overstimulation with only one perfect orgasm. He pulled his fingers from inside you, giving your clit one last gentle rub before his hand left the water, where unfortunately for him you already were washed off by the time he could get his fingers to his mouth.

“Are you warm enough yet, darlin’?” Rafael asked, a slight smirk tugging on his lips as he watched you lift your head like it weighed a ton, which to you, it might as well have as your whole body felt twice as heavy as normal with the weight of pleasure that had just come crashing down atop you.

That didn’t mean you weren’t willing to play along with his cruel game, though, and so you smiled, leaning forward to press a sloppy, lopsided kiss to his lips before directing them towards his ear.

“I’m freezing,” You whispered, feeling the way his hips jerked beneath you at the mere notion that he hadn’t warmed you up enough. You pulled back a touch, just to see every twitch of his lips as he slowly began to press his fingers, almost possessively, into your thighs again. “I think you might need to try again to help warm me up.”

“Well in that case,” Rafael replied, a soft groan leaving his lips when you ground down against him. “I think we better take this inside. Because the things I’m about to do to you…” He sucked in a breath, drawing his tongue up the length of your neck and towards your ear in a way that had you quivering already. “There’s no doubt in my mind that they’ll land us both on the registry… for the very rest of our days.”

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thatesqcrush · 1 month ago

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Reel Temptation

Rafael Barba x f!reader. P*rn star! Barba AU.

WC: 2.6K

Summary: It’s the Golden Age of P*rn, circa 1970s. Reader accompanies roommate to a casting call for an adult film. Little does she know that her life is about to change when she meets the male lead.

NSFW for language, talk about sex work and adult films, smoking (cigarettes and recreational drug use).

AN: s/o to @beccabarba for being my soundboard and never wavering encouragement.

AN2: sex work is work. Sex work will always exist - we need to make it safer for sex workers to do their jobs. Continued criminalization of sex work and sex workers is a form of violence by governments and contributes to the high level of stigma and discrimination.

AN3: this is a repost of part one as Tumblr decided it was too explicit & hid it from public view.

The apartment in California was a relic of the 1970s, steeped in the bold, eclectic charm of the era. Low-slung, avocado-green sofas sprawled across the shag-carpeted living room, beneath the warm glow of a globe-shaped chandelier. Wood-paneled walls held abstract prints, while hanging plants in macramé holders swayed gently by the sliding glass doors. In the kitchen, harvest gold appliances hummed quietly, surrounded by dark wood cabinets and a linoleum floor with a dizzying geometric pattern. The bedroom, with its velvet curtains and paisley bedspread, whispered of cozy nights in a space reflecting the free spirited culture of the time.

“Come on!”

A pillow landed on your head. You groaned as you rolled over, facing your roommate, Sadie who was in process of flicking her hair into wings. “I don’t want to go. Three’s Company’s on and this is the episode where there is some kind of understanding.”

“So you’ve already seen it then. Please,” Sadie begged. “You can read lines with me.”

You sat up further and sat with your legs crossed. “Since when do pornos have a plot line?” you sneered.

“It’s not porn - it’s really classy. It’s legit,” your roommate continued. She turned from the vanity to look at you. “Please.”

You let out an irritated sigh as you rolled your eyes. “Fine, fine, fine,” you grumbled. “Where’s this place anyway?”

“In the Valley.”

You stretched your arms as you stood, your shirt lifting exposing your midriff as you did so. “You’re paying for the gas. And any snacks.”

***

The casting office was small and seedy, reeking of smoke and something else. There was a line of women of all shapes and sizes waiting to be called. There’s a desk where an older, bald man is flipping through photos. It’s hot and sticky, the humidity suffocating despite a ceiling fan and standing fan going off on high.

There’s another room adjacent and in there, another man stands a few paces back, fiddling with the view-finder on a film camera. You sit on a peeling linoleum chair next to Sadie as you peruse the so-called script.

“Sadie, are you sure about this?”

Sadie chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. She nodded after a bit. “Yes, totally sure.” The tone in her voice however, led you to believe she was maybe trying to convince herself.

“Look, we can just go,” you whispered. “No one’s gonna give a shit. Or notice for that matter.”

You stood and faced her, outstretching your arm. “Come on, you don’t even have to pay me for the gas.”

A man’s voice filled the room and you heard the gaggle of ladies giggle and swoon. When you turned around, your breath hitched.

“That’s him - that’s my co-star…,” Sadie replied, a large grin on her face. “Hopefully!”

“That’s your … who is he?” you questioned, dropping your arm as you drank him in. Dark hair, thick sideburns, and a full, bushy - but well groomed- mustache. He wore a collared shirt with a bold pattern and fitted flare jeans. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing a dark chest hair.

His overall appearance exuded confidence and a laid-back charm, embodying the free-spirited, adventurous spirit of the time.

He’s painfully handsome, good-looking in a way that disarms you, making you feel giddy, like a child waiting to meet Santa. He’s so handsome it is almost burning, as if you cannot look at him full on.

“His name is Rafael Barba, but on screen he goes by ‘The Judge.’

You whipped your head to the other voice, this time female and not Sadie’s.

This woman was tall and drop dead gorgeous with high cheekbones and chestnut hair. “Names Olivia. I help book the girls.”

Her gaze fell on you and Sadie and you had a feeling that she was mentally adding you both up.

“First timer?”

Olivia’s sharp gaze landed on you and you shook your head. “Not me. Her.” You jutted your thumb at Sadie.

Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Maybe,” she murmured to herself, dropping her gaze. She looked up at you once more. “Let me go speak to The Judge.”

Sadie squealed. “Oh my God, it’s happening!” She bounced in place.

You rolled your eyes and watched Olivia go over to “The Judge,” who was flirting with the gaggles of women. She tapped his shoulder and then whispered something in his ear. He gave a curt nod, before following her. The Judge is even more handsome up close and his body is thick, in a functionally fit kind of way. The way you knew the weight of him would feel oh so fucking good on top of you, crushing you. A jolt of pleasure coursed through you and as you felt your cheeks heat, but you chalked it up to the heat.

The Judge stroked his chin as was now his turn to assess. He turned to Olivia and pointed to you, whispering in hushed tones. Olivia nodded in response, and you’re only able to make out an ‘I agree.’

The Judge stalked off and Olivia turned around to face the line of still-swooning women. “Casting is over. We’ve got our girl. Come back tomorrow.”

The group of women begin to groan and complain about wasted time and it not being fair as they dispersed. Olivia made her way back to you and Sadie.

“So here’s the deal,” she began and pointed at you. “I know you’re not here for this, but The Judge wants you.”

“Me?” you exclaimed at the same time Sadie replied incredulously, “Her?”

“No no, you made a mistake. I have no interest…” your voice dies off as Olivia narrowed her eyes once more on you.

“He wants you. And he’s willing to double the pay at his cost.”

You shake your head incredulously. “This cannot be happening.”

“Wait, what about me?” Sadie chimed in.

“I didn’t forget about you sweetheart. You’ll be our fluff girl.”

“Fluff girl?” You questioned, puzzled.

“Basically your girl will give a handy or blow to keep his cock up on set. After setting up the desired angle, the director usually requests the actors to hold position, which can be a bit… deflating. The fluff makes sure the actors are fully inflated for the shot.”

“And how much does that pay?” Sadie questioned, her tone disappointed. The pay is a quarter of the original pay. Sadie huffed. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Then the door is right there,” Olivia replied sharply. She turned to you. “What do you think? You in?”

Your brain is swirling and your cunt is throbbing at the idea of being fucked by The Judge. Before you can allow for rationality to seep in, you nod. “No way, no thank you.”

Olivia cocked her head. “Shame. He thought you had it in you.”

“Me?” You squeaked. “It’s just that I— I’ve never—”

“We get it all the time. The good girls who wouldn’t ever dare, the ones who clutch their pearls. It’s just fucking. It’s not that serious. You’re telling me you’ve never fucked before?”

You shook your head. “Of course I have.”

“Okay, so how is this any different? In fact, it’s better. You get paid.”

Olivia switched her gaze from you to Sadie. She gave her a once over again. “You know what, I could use you for another film. I’ve got this other guy, Sonny - real nice on the eyes. Think you’d be perfect. What do you think? I’ll pay you to fluff and for a movie?”

Sadie brightened. “Yeah, perfect.”

Olivia grinned. “I’ll put you up at the motor lodge nearby. Be here tomorrow at noon.” She turned to you again. “What about you sweetheart? Am I wasting my time? Are you telling me that I have to call all of those women back?”

You sucked in air between your teeth and thought about how fucking sexy The Judge was. And so you decided there and then with what was in between your legs, than what was in between your ears.

“I’m in.”

***

You arrived the next afternoon with Sadie. Another assistant - a blonde woman named Amanda - was having you sign off various consent forms.

“Do you have any limits? The Judge wants to know.”

“Limits?” You questioned. “What do you—“

“Jesus Christ,” Amanda replied exasperated. “Olivia told me that you had sex before. Was that a lie?”

“No!” You replied sharply. Amanda raised a brow and you lowered your voice. “Never had any complaints from my boyfriends.”

Amanda smirked. “Limits are shit that you don’t want to do. For instance, anal, golden showers - being pissed on,” she clarified when she saw the confused look on your face. “So if you don’t want to do something, then you let us know.

You cocked a brow. “Um, I guess anything involving piss. And shit, if that’s a thing too.”

Amanda laughed before she lit a cigarette. “Believe me, there are lots of fucked up people out there who like to do all sorts of fucked up stuff - shit included. So you’re good with butt stuff?”

You nodded. “I haven’t done it much, but yeah. I’m good for it.”

Amanda gave you a lascivious, devious grin. “Perfect.”

***

You were shown to your changing room and told to get in a robe. Some test shots were needed to make sure lighting was good. There was another handsome man, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was behind the camera, adjusting the viewfinder.

“Hey,” you reply quietly. The man lifted his gaze and looked over at you. A shit-eating grin spread on his face.

“Hey princess. I’m Nick, I’m the videographer.” He snapped the gum he was chewing. “When you’re ready, just stand in front of the screen and undo your robe, just the top.”

You swallowed nervously, your heart hammering in your chest. “Okay.” You did as he said, your nipples instantly hardening due to the air.

Nick let out a whistle and nodded. “Those are some real nice tits. Real pretty.”

You blushed, feeling your cheeks heat. “Thanks.”

Before long you were doing a full nude shot. Mid-one shot where you where on all fours, looking back at the camera, Olivia walked in. She nodded. “Looking good honey. Got your friend Sadie already in a scene with Sonny. And The Judge is mid-scene.”

You blinked. “Really? Could I watch? Just to get a better idea of what it’ll be like for me?”

Nick snapped his gum and let out a little grunt. Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Nick, you’ve got enough shots, I am sure. Give her a break, she’s a newbie.”

Nick rolled his eyes. You donned your robe back on. Nick walked over your way and jutted his head. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

You followed Nick down a few hallways and soon enough, your ears picked up the sounds of someone clearly getting fucked. The room was small and tight, the crew basically taking up the entirety of the space. You squeezed your way in, the air thick with the scent of sex, lube and sweat. You watched the scene before you completely transfixed and enraptured. There before you was The Judge fucking some woman on a couch. Her legs were in the air as he gripped them tightly, fucking her without abandon.

You felt yourself grow wet as The Judge railed this woman thoroughly, dragging his cock through her slick pussy, over and over.

“Such a good slut, taking my cock so well,” The Judge grunted.

The woman wailed as she came, her tits bouncing in tandem with the pace of being fucked.

“Gonna come,” The Judge grunted. He slid his cock out and your pussy clenched in response. His cock was big and thick, an angry shade of red- almost purple, covered in the woman’s slick ready to bust. ‘Jesus Christ,’ you thought. ‘How am I going to fit that in me?’

He stroked himself over her stomach and then came with a long, low, almost guttural groan. The white ropes of his release coat her stomach, catching the obnoxious overhead lighting.

“Cut!”

The director’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

The woman sat up and stood, before grabbing a robe to slip on, leaving it hanging open. She leaned over to grab a towel to wipe herself. The Judge slipped on his pants, foregoing underwear. He looked up and met your gaze.

"You think you can keep up, sunshine?"

You read the surprise in his eyes as you replied. "I can take anything you dish out, bub."

The Judge smirked. “Rafael Barba.” He extended his hand and you shook it in response. You relayed your name and he repeated it slowly, as if savoring it. And the way he said it was just delicious.

“Liv told me you have never done this before.”

You furrowed your brows. “Sex or porn?”

Rafael laughed and he reached into his back pocket to pull out a pack of Marlboros. He offered you one and you took it. He slid a lighter from his front pocket and flicked it open and offered it out. You take a step closer, leaning forward to dip the tip of your cigarette into the flame. It ignited and you step back, smoke mingling in the air.

“Porn. If you had been a virgin, I would be fucking your friend and not you in about an hour.”

You nodded before taking a drag. “Nope, definitely not a virgin. You blew out smoke before you continued, “So what is our scene or whatever?”

“Liv didn’t tell you?” Rafael seemed amused. “We have a whole courtroom set up. You’re gonna be the lawyer who gets called into chambers.”

Your eyes widened a little. “Oh.”

“I figure we’ll start with some oral, both of us and the I’ll fuck you from behind over the desk. I’ll finish on your ass. That work?”

You ran through it in your mind. “What about if I lay on my back on the desk and you can finish on my tits?”

Rafael ran a finger through his mustache as he eyed you. His voice was low and dark as he replied. “Yeah, that’d work sunshine. I’ll take the lead.” He was still shirtless and you eyed him appreciatively.

Rafael lifted your chin with his finger and your eyes met his. “Seriously. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He winked and you flushed in response, already sensing the charge in the air.

Rafael eyed your robe, not completely undone but a little loose. He traced a finger over the trim by the opening. “Do you mind if I get a peek?”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Part of you was excited, thrilled by the risquéness of it all. The other part was that he was a stranger - the men who had seen you naked were boyfriends who awkwardly groped you in the backseat of cars or movie theaters.

You swallowed and nodded before undoing your robe, letting it fall to your lower back. You felt hot as Rafael immediately licked his lips. “Fuck, those are some pretty tits.”

You felt yourself blush in response.

“May I?” Rafael asked and it took you a second to realize that he meant if he could touch you. You nodded.

His hands were large, with long dexterous fingers, well manicured and patterned with veins. You watched his hand flex and you knew instantly, every movement intentional. Patterned with veins, well manicured, with unexpected strength. His skin was warm and soft. Rafael’s touch began rather innocently, along your arm up to along your shoulder. He then brought it down your clavicle to your sternum. He cupped one breast with his hand, feeling the weight of it against his palm. When his finger brushed your nipple, a bolt of pleasure shot down to your core. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

“Mmmm, so responsive,” Rafael said, his voice dark and low. “We really are going to have a lot of fun,” Rafael replied once more as he took a drag of his smoke.

TBC.

AN4: Lmk if you want to be tagged when I post part two!

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba smut #Rafael Barba au fanfic #rafael barba fanfiction

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madamsnape921 · 18 days ago

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Stormy Nights and Candlelight

Pairing: Rafael Barba x female reader

Note: smut, breeding kink

WC: 681

Winter Bingo square: Power Outage

Taglist: @storiesofsvu @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @prurientpuddlejumper @welcometothemxdhouse @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @lv7867 @word-scribbless

@plaidbooks @navalcriminalimagines

Rafael cursed as the power abruptly shut off, leaving them in the midst of a growing storm outside.

"Hang on," you tried to calm him down, "I know where the candles are. Just give me a minute and we won't be completely in the dark."

"Thanks," he sighed, "I don't know how you can stay so composed during moments like this."

"I've always liked the darkness," you replied as you carefully made your way into the bedroom, where you had placed some candles beforehand.

Suddenly, Rafael let out a loud yelp.

"Are you okay?" you asked worriedly.

"Yeah," he grumbled, "just bumped into that stupid coffee table."

You led him out of the dark living room and into the warm glow of the bedroom. "Poor thing," you cooed, taking his hand and pulling him towards you, "let me distract you."

"How?" he asked with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

You smirked mischievously and whispered, "I can think of a few ways to keep ourselves entertained in the dark."

Before Rafael could respond, you closed the bedroom door, leaving just the flickering candlelight to illuminate the room.

As the storm continued to rage outside, you and Rafael found solace in each other's arms, exploring the depths of passion and desire that had been simmering between you for so long. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, forgetting about the world outside and reveling in the intense connection you shared.

Rafael swept his hand through your hair and down your back, stopping at your clothed behind for a quick squeeze. "I like the way you think," he said with a smile.

"I knew you would," you replied as you unbuttoned Rafael's shirt.

He shrugged the garment off and pulled yours over your head, while your hands worked on unbuckling his pants. In a matter of minutes, you were both standing there completely undressed.

"God, you never cease to amaze me," Rafael breathed in admiration as he helped you lie back on the bed.

Rafael shifted his shoulders underneath your thighs.

"Rafa, please!"

"Shh..." he trailed a lick along your clit, causing you to arch your back in pleasure before sucking on it.

"I'm so close!" you moaned.

"Come all over my face, baby girl."

You called out his name, and Rafael immediately moved over you and thrust inside, causing a second orgasm to erupt within you. Before you could even come down from the first, he had already taken you to new heights of pleasure.

“I’m going to fill you up, baby. I’m going to breed this pretty little pussy.”

“Yes, Rafa! Come inside of me!”

Rafael's thrusts were relentless.

"Harder!" you begged, craving more of his rough touch.

After what felt like an eternity, Rafael finally came with a primal roar. The sound of his release sent you over the edge once again.

"Rafa!" you cried out as you reached your third orgasm, feeling him spill inside of you.

As Rafael gently pushed back a strand of hair from your face, he whispered, "I love you."

“I love you, too.”

When the storm finally subsided and the power came back on, you both lay tangled in each other's embrace, breathless and sated.

Rafael gazed at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. "I never knew a blackout could be so... electrifying," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You smiled contentedly, knowing that this unexpected moment of intimacy had deepened the bond between you and Rafael. You felt a sense of closeness and understanding that went beyond words. As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared experience, you realized that sometimes it took a moment of darkness to truly see the light within each other.

The world outside may have been chaotic and unpredictable, but in that quiet, candlelit room, you and Rafael had found a sanctuary of love and acceptance. And as you drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, you knew that no storm could ever extinguish the flame that burned between you, strong and unwavering.

#kattsholidaybingo2024 #rafael barba #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba smut #rafael barba x reader

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 2 years ago

Text

Job well done

WC: 759

Warnings: Smut Smut Smut. Its been a while, so why not just jump straight into it. No lead up just straight into it.

Enjoy x

His long fingers were wrapped around your wrist as they were pinned above your head and being pressed into the wall. His lips, which were surprisingly warm pressing into your skin, the feeling of his beard along with his lips making you shiver as they ran along your skin. His fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt and he chuckled into your neck when you let out a whine when he moved his hand away for a moment. His hand was soon back to where it started and you shivered again, pressing your chest into his more by aching your back as his hand was still making its way up the inside of your thigh. You were so wrapped up with the feeling of his soft palm on your skin that you startled when his lips where at your ear, his breath also warm hitting your skin,

“I was proud of you today” Rafael whispered in your ear, his long pointer finger now running along the lace edge of your panties “Did Liv know you came here? She wouldn’t be very pleased.”

“No” you gasped back shaking your head slightly as his fingers started to push into the side of your panties more, making their way to your very wet core “I don’t really care what Liv would have to say right now” You locked eyes with his beautiful green ones.

“She will need to know eventually, mi amor” Rafael said firmly in a voice that usually only had one reaction from you as he slid two fingers into your warm centre “So wet for me Y/N, you like when I talk to you like that, don’t you?” Rafael twisted his fingers inside you, pointing them upwards to hit your sweet spot and you nodded “Use your words Y/N”

“Yes Sir” you moaned as Rafael’s fingers moved inside you.

“Good Girl” Rafael rolled his hips into your thigh, his hard cock pocking you.

Your eye’s locked with Rafael’s again and he could feel your core starting to clench around him, your mouth dropped open slightly, a devilish grin on Rafael’s face and the sound of your wetness filling his new office.

You hadn’t had a moment to even register what was happening with how fast Rafael moved and before you knew it, your skirt was up above your hips, your panties pooled around your feet on the floor, Rafael’s pants were around his ankles, he had rolled on protection and his hands where on your ass cheeks hoisting you up just enough for his long hard cock to slide into you and you were pushed back into the wall, your legs wrapped around his middle and his long fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your behind, your body sent into over drive as his hips rolled into you hard and fast.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him into you, your lips crashing together, your tongues pushing into each other mouths rolling together. Your walls started to tense around Rafael and he could feel it too, his hip thrust getting faster and the bottom of his dress shirt pressed so hard between you both that it was rubbing on your needy pearl, causing a delicious kind of friction.

Your whole body felt hot and your legs started to tingle. You broke the kiss, your forehead resting on his. Your eyes slammed shut and you bit hard into your bottom lip, trying not to be loud as you came hard around him your breath almost taken away with how intense you came. Rafael moved his hips faster, you could feel the sweat forming on his forehead before you moved your head and put your lips to his ear,

“Cum for me Sir, give it all to me”

Rafael rolled his hips hard into you, stilled and said your name and a few swear words under his breath. He took in a deep breath before you loosened your legs around him and he made sure you had your balance first and then kissed your forehead and then your lips sweetly. Rafael turned away walking over to his desk and cleaning himself up, while you fixed yourself up, smoothing your hair flat at the back,

“We need to tell her, love” Rafael smoothed the hair on face with his long fingers, looking at you dead in the eyes.

You rolled your eyes walking over to him throwing your arms around his neck and his moving around your waist,

“After that, whenever you want Rafi”

Tags: @detective-giggles @beccabarba @witches-unruly-heart @dianilaws @scarletsoldierrr @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @infiniteoddball @fandom-princess-forevermore @madamsnape921 @annabelleb49 @alwaysachorusgirl @thatesqcrush @gillysoldlady @jemmakates

#rafael barba fanfiction #barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #barba x reader #ada rafael barba #rafael barba #rafael barba x yn #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x female reader #rafael barba smut

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saiilorstars · 3 months ago

Text

Ch. 62: The Little Big Words

Previous chapters // Montserrat’s masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing: Rafael Barba x OC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @averyhotchner @abzidabzy @hellofutur @foxesandmagic @xovalliegirlxo @sam-i–am @kmc1989 @midmourn @choosejoyangel @rebeccapineapple @duckybird101 @caplanbuckybarnes

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message

"Didn't I say no working?" Montserrat thought it was too early to be this kind of mad but Rafael had found a way each day since they left the hospital. Each morning he would find a different way to do something he shouldn't be doing; today's attempt was trying to work on a case in the living room.

"Did you?" Rafael didn't even attempt to sound surprised by Montserrat's presence and reaction to him. He was flipping through pages on the couch.

Montserrat walked up behind the couch and reached over Rafael to take the papers out of his hands.

"Hey!" He went to reach for them when his side said absolutely not. "Ow…" he jerked back in place.

"It's like you want to be stupid on purpose," Montserrat shook her head at him. She skimmed a few of the lines on the first paper in her hands. "Wait, is this the Avery Jordan case we dealt with months ago?"

"Yeah," Rafael said, struggling to get up on his own. He refused to let Montserrat do that for him. She already did so much for him, this one was on him, one way or another.

"I've been so negligent keeping up with her," Montserrat said, scrunching her nose. "She's how far along now?"

"About 7 months," Rafael said, coming around the couch slowly. He was putting his best efforts not to place his hand over his injury. It had become like a custom that he really wanted to break. It would be less of a reminder of what happened. "Her trial's finally got a date."

"Finally," scoffed Montserrat. "Meanwhile, this woman's been living a constant hell."

"Which I'm trying to put an end to," Rafael said, plucking his papers out of Montserrat's hands. "But you won't let me."

"Nice try," Montserrat said, promptly taking back what he stole. "But you're not working until you get an 'all clear'. So put it away before I start hiding them."

"A challenge I'm more than willing to take."

"Stop," warned Montserrat, pointing at the stupid grin on Rafel's face. She hated it. He was smug at all hours and it was getting on her last nerve. Her scotch bottle was almost done and it had only been two weeks since she bought them.

"Buenos dias," Rafael said promptly, leaning over to place a kiss on her lips. "Breakfast?" He moved around her and headed for the kitchen.

"I hate you," Montserrat nodded to herself and followed after him, ignoring his very proud "No you don't".

It was an hour after breakfast — and more bickering about the things Rafael should and shouldn't be doing — that someone knocked on the door. Montserrat practically stalked up to the door and opened it up. The sight of the young waitress Clara took her by surprise.

"Clara?" Montserrat blinked at the woman.

Clara sheepishly waved. "Hi, morning. I'm sorry for being early — I have class later. Were you guys asleep?"

Montserrat scoffed. "Yeah, he's a bat," she said, nodding back to Rafael who rolled his eyes in response. "He doesn't sleep. Come in."

"Thanks." Clara walked in slowly, both hands on the top of her purse — a sign of nervousness. "How are you feeling?" She asked Rafael.

"Good, thanks," he replied, "I'm better than what everyone else thinks."

"Don't start," Montserrat warned him. She looked at Clara suddenly. "Are you going to stay here?"

"Uh, well, I suppose —"

"Great," Montserrat nodded, "Because I need a break."

"What?" Clara watched the redhead rush over to the coffee table to grab her purse.

"Thanks so much for this!" Montserrat exclaimed. "What do you say — 17.50 an hour?"

"Montserrat," Rafael deadpanned the woman he so called his girlfriend. The title was in jeopardy.

Montserrat stared at him thoughtfully then looked at Clara again. "For your trouble…$25.50."

"Huh?" Clara blinked.

"Montserrat!" exclaimed Rafael.

"Oh, pipe down," snapped Montserrat. "I need a break from you. Your mother was right. You're driving me nuts."

"As are you to me," Rafael promptly replied. "Have a nice break."

Montserrat smiled sarcastically sweetly at him. "Likewise." She left the place without looking back.

Clara watched after Montserrat, having no idea what just happened. "Um, are you guys okay?"

Rafael laughed. "Yeah, don't worry. She's right, we do need a break. We're driving each other insane."

Clara still had no idea what to make of that. "I thought you guys were good…?"

"We are," nodded Rafael, "We're not afraid to tell each other our truths. It's against our programming. She has a big mouth, I can't stop countering. Nothing else."

Clara nodded slowly. I guess that's a good kind of relationship…

She would decide later.

"So, what's going on?" Rafael asked her. "Are you okay?" He'd given Clara his address in case she needed something in the future. After what happened, he owed her a lot.

"Sort of," Clara said, moving along as he proposed to, "I stopped by the precinct taking care of your case."

Immediately, Rafael knew why Clara was there. He was eternally grateful Montserrat left.

Clara didn't notice his expression changing. She was too busy being confused. "And I spoke to Sergeant Benson. She said the case has gone cold."

"Yeah…" Rafael said slowly, calculating Clara as much as he could. He was sure the meds he was taking were causing him to be slower. He couldn't be exactly sure what Clara was going to say next.

"After she explained what that meant, I thought I should come see how you're doing with the news," Clara said, offering him a small smile.

It was fairly quick how much guilt settled on Rafael's shoulders. He already carried another load for lying to Montserrat about it. Up until now, all she knew was that the case was simply going slow. He offered Olivia the chance to tell Montserrat himself that the case was "officially" a cold case.

"I'm…I'm okay," he told Clara. "You don't have to worry about me, Clara. I'm sure you have a lot more things to worry about given your career choice. Lots of exams…?" He looked at Clara until she smiled.

"Midterms," she corrected.

"There we go. You have enough on your plate."

Clara's shoulders rose together. "Maybe but I can't just forget about this either. You're sort of like my first real patient. It's my duty to make sure you're feeling okay."

"I appreciate the sentiment, and believe me you have done your obligations with me. I'm still here." Rafael smiled when Clara chuckled. She seemed far younger when she did. It was nice. "Look, you should just focus on your midterms and your work. I'm okay."

Clara wasn't entirely convinced. "But can't they do anything else about this?"

"I will be looking into it," Rafael lied swiftly and easily. "But if you need anything else from me, please feel free to call or stop by. Montserrat told me you're not working at the coffee shop, anymore?"

Clara shook her head, smiling sadly. "Too traumatic. I got a job at a little restaurant two blocks from there. Maybe you'd like to stop by. It's Chinese."

Rafael chuckled. "You don't say? We love that."

Clara chuckled. "Yeah, well, you can stop by anytime you'd like."

"We will," Rafael promised, "Once I'm out of house arrest." As it turned out, Montserrat was a lot stricter than he previously thought.

~0~

Montserrat picked at the plate in front of her, making a mental note to pick up strawberries before leaving. Across from her, Kara laughed at Montserrat's unfortunate tales.

"It's really not funny," Montserrat said, picking up her fork to try the pasta Sonny had graciously made for them for lunch.

"It's funny that you thought this wouldn't happen," Kara said with a shrug. "You've been staying with Rafael for, what, a week?"

"Two weeks,"Montserrat corrected. "Two weeks straight and I discovered we are complete opposites. He is a morning person — a very early person — and I'm normal. He likes his coffee as black as the frikin night and I'm…normal."

Kara laughed again. They even heard Sonny laugh to himself in the kitchen.

"Shut up, Carisi," called Montserrat, leaning back in her seat, "And where's the sides you promised?"

"Oh calm down," Kara waved a hand at her best friend to get her attention. "You're just learning more about Rafael."

"Well if he doesn't stop showing me so many new things about him, I might kill him," Montserrat said, scrunching her nose.

Kara laughed, even more delighted now that Sonny was coming around with a fresh new serving of pasta. "You should follow my lead," Kara said to Montserrat, "Mine just likes to cook."

Montserrat rolled her eyes. Kara grinned up at Sonny and happily accepted his kiss.

"Hey genius," Montserrat called, "your boyfriend's about to spill blazing hot pasta on your lap."

The way Sonny was holding the sizzling pan was indeed threatening to drop the pasta on Kara's lap.

"Whoops! Sorry, doll," Sonny said, quickly dumping the pasta on Kara's plate. "Little distracted…"

"I'll say," Montserrat shook her head. "Can I get more for take out? I need to bring Rafael something back."

"Thought he was pissing you off," Kara reminded.

"He is," Montserrat nodded. "But he still needs to eat."

Kara had to laugh. "You're ridiculous. Both of you. But you do have to learn how to live with each other if you're actually living together."

"We're not living together," Montserrat said quickly, sounding defensive about it too. "I'm just staying with him until he's okay."

"So you're coming back?"

Montserrat deadpanned her best friend for a long minute. "Please, try to be more disappointed about it."

Kara chuckled.

Sonny came back around with a to-go dish for Montserrat. "I think Kara's right," he said, ignoring Montserrat muttering 'of course'. "You need to learn how to live together. It's very different from just staying the night to being together for 2 weeks straight."

Montserrat's shoulders slumped. "I guess." Her hand tugged at a few of her curls. "I don't know, I guess I'm just not used to this kind of stuff anymore. Plus, none of my boyfriends have ever been shot before. I'm still coming down from that whole experience."

Sonny and Kara agreed with that statement.

"You said you talked to Olivia today, no?" Kara asked.

Montserrat nodded, her whole demeanor changing again. "I went before coming here." She let out a long sigh. "The case has gone cold."

Kara's eyes widened and she immediately looked at Sonny. The latter nodded. "That's terrible," Kara gawked. "Why?"

"The guy never showed his face and neither Rafael nor Clara can identify anything special about him," Montserrat explained. Her fork went in circles in her pasta. "Liv said they're trying but there's only so much we can do, right?"

"We are trying," Sonny assured her. "Sooner or later we'll get something."

Montserrat managed a little smile. What would she do without her partner? "Anyways, I should just focus on making sure Rafael's okay in the meantime." And learn how to manage my overall anxiety. Montserrat supposed those were really big things she should work towards.

~0~

Montserrat's trip to SVU was a complete bust since Olivia had not been around and no one else seemed to know what was going on, she didn't blame them. They were short staffed again and with new cases coming in every day. On her way back, she got a call from her father asking her to come over. When she tried to explain she was heading back to Rafael's place, her father insisted that it would just be for a moment. Either Montserrat went over, or he would find a way to her instead.

Montserrat arrived within fifteen minutes at her father's home after that. She certainly wasn't expecting to find her brother there as well, along with her two nieces.

"Don't look at me, he was just babysitting," Gael said when Montserrat threw the idea that this had been a set up. Of course when her five year old niece Ivannah came running up to her, Montserrat forgot all about it in favor of the little girl.

"Auntie Montse! You're here!" Ivannah very easily jumped into her aunt's arms.

Montserrat laughed lightly at the excited girl. "Well, if everyone greeted me like this, I wouldn't mind."

"What, your new boyfriend is tired of you already?" Gael smirked.

Montserrat deadpanned her older brother, keeling her not so nice words to herself solely for the five year old in the room. "Dad, what is this?"

"It's just a coincidence, I promise," Thomas said with his hands raised in front of him. "He stopped by with the girls afterwards."

"Yeah! Are you going to stay with us and grandpa!?" Ivannah bounced in Montserrat's arms to get the woman's attention.

"Uh, no sweetie, sorry," Montserrat gave a light pat on Ivannah's back. "I've got to head back soon. Dad, what did you need?"

"You weren't answering your phone…" Thomas said, giving his daughter a sharp look. "I got worried."

"I'm sorry. I've been a bit busy," Montserrat said, "But we're okay. Rafael's doing better now. He just…can't move a lot…"

"Would he be okay if we visited some time?" Thomas saw the way his daughter stiffened, alarmed with his question.

"What?" Montserrat was speechless.

Gael laughed at her. "You're that afraid we'll embarrass you, huh?"

Montserrat sent her brother another glare. "Shut it!"

"Dad, can you stop being so mean to aunt Montserrat?" Juliana walked out from the hallway. She came straight to Montserrat and hugged her aunt. "Hi auntie."

"Hi there sweetheart," Montserrat greeted the teenager with a warm smile. "How are you?"

"Okay," Juliana shrugged.

Montserrat playfully rolled her eyes — it was the universal teenage response. "What about Abby?"

"We joined Key Club," Juliana said, "Getting volunteer hours. It looks great on college applications."

"That's great. Are you two—"

"Is it true you have a boyfriend now?" Juliana cut her aunt right off.

Montserrat blinked at the girl then went back to glaring at Gael. "You really have the biggest mouth in the world — no, galaxy."

Gael smirked. "You told dad I was dating Marlene Forbes!"

"Settle down you two," Thomas said, motioning his children to stop yelling.

"So, aunt Montse, do you have a boyfriend?" Juliana asked again, more curious than ever.

Montserrat sighed and gave in. "Yes. Thanks to your dad, I bet the whole of New York knows it by now."

"Give me half an hour," Gael said with a mischievous grin.

"Dad," Montserrat called, leading Gael to snicker.

"Go sit down," Thomas ordered the two. "And give me my granddaughter before you influence her the wrong way."

"No! I want to stay with my aunt Montse!" Ivannah clung her arms around Montserrat's neck.

Montserrat walked over to the couch and sat down with Ivannah on her lap. Juliana scurried to her aunt's side and plopped down on her knees.

"So who is it!?" She leaned on Montserrat's arm, absolutely eager to find out the answer. "Do we know him!? Is he a stranger!? Where'd you meet!?"

"You seem a bit too knowledgeable here," Montserrat remarked and gently pushed Juliana back. "Maybe you should tell us if you're seeing anyone."

"Not until she's 30," Gael said promptly. Juliana rolled her eyes at her father. "And in all seriousness, Montserrat, I'm happy to hear Rafael's doing better. Also glad he's the one you're dating."

Montserrat scoffed. "Please, you just like him because he put up the 5 grand for your bail."

"Not true," Gael said, shrugging. "It's a contributing factor but not a big one. I like his attitude."

"I honestly don't know if that's a good or bad thing," Montserrat said, shaking her head.

"Wait," Juliana said suddenly, scrunching her nose, "I remember that guy. He works with you and aunt Casey. He used to make you mad a lot."

Montserrat scoffed again. "'Used to'? He still does. Eighty percent of the time."

"Bet that's what he says about you." Gael walked up to Montserrat and gently took his daughter out of her arms to carry her himself. "The guy gets s-h-o-t and you're the nurse? Poor guy."

"Gael!" Montserrat exclaimed.

"Oh my God," Juliana made a horrified face, "Aunt Montse, is he okay?"

Montserrat shot her brother a look for his loose lips. "You want to keep going while your daughters are here?"

Gael motioned Juliana to head for the hallway. He then set Ivannah down and told her to go wash her hands for dinner.

"No, wait," Juliana said despite getting up from the couch, "Aunt Montse, is your boyfriend okay?"

"Yes, thankfully yes," Montserrat assured her.

"But was he like, shot-shot…?" Juliana leaned closer to her aunt's side, "As in like a lot of blood and—"

"Juliana, go help your sister wash her hands, now," Gael ordered her.

Juliana rolled her eyes. "As if I won't find out sooner or later," she told Gael before ushering Ivannah into the hallway.

"Great going," Montserrat turned on her brother, "You and your big mouth."

"It slipped," Gael frowned. "You think I wanted my daughter to know that somebody went and shot your boyfriend?"

"I'd believe you if you didn't keep saying it out loud!"

Gael raised his hands in front of him. Montserrat shook her head at him.

"I need to get back," Montserrat said, "Dad?"

"Yeah! Here!" Thomas made way to the kitchen. Montserrat glanced at her brother helplessly then followed after Thomas. He had come up to the kitchen counter where a paper bag stood. "I know that you're probably stressed and still coming out from all that's happened so I thought you could take some ready-to-go meals."

"What?" Montserrat blinked. Thomas motioned her to take a look inside the bag. When she did, she saw a couple trays with sweet smelling food inside, many of which she recognized from when she was a child. "Dad, you made all these?"

"I had the time," Thomas smiled at her, "And I figured that's what you don't have right now. Take 'em."

"Where's my cooked dinner?" grumbled Gael.

"Oh be quiet," Thomas said, "Your sister needs the help. And listen," he looked at Montserrat, "When Rafael is all better, I think it would be great if we could all sit down over some dinner."

"Oh, Dad…" Montserrat breathed in, "That's…that's a while away…"

"I know," Thomas said, assuring her that he didn't intend on that dinner being tomorrow. "But I want you to have the idea in your head so it's not a complete surprise when I force you to do it later on."

Montserrat's smile waned the more her father went on about their future plans. She couldn't be more grateful when he has to go tend to a phone call from work. Only then was she able to breathe again…until Gael spoke up.

"What's with you?" He eyed Montserrat's demeanor with bemusement. "Don't tell me you're that nervous about dinner?"

"No, I — it's not that," Montserrat sighed. "I can't believe I'm going to tell you this." And even then it took her another minute to be able to explain. "Rafael and I are in a bit of a…struggle."

"Struggle how?"

"Struggle as in we are close to not standing each other," Montserrat said, her face scrunching, "He is getting on my last nerves. He's as stubborn as they come. He doesn't want to stop working, he doesn't want to take his medication when he should and he wants to keep moving around when he should be resting. I'm so close to grabbing duct tape."

Gael smiled for a moment before the laugh won out. Montserrat did not appreciate it.

"I shouldn't have told you anything," she muttered. She moved to leave Gael alone but he grabbed her arm and gently pushed her back to her place.

"It's just funny," he told her, "Because I bet that's exactly what he's saying about you right now."

"Me?" Montserrat pointed at herself, indignant of such an accusation. "Why? I'm helping him."

"Except by the way you describe him, and the little that I know about him, it sounds like he's the kind of person who doesn't like help. He's not used to it."

Montserrat lowered her head. Those were some familiar thoughts she had herself a while back. It just went to hell when Rafael was shot and he was close to death.

"Montserrat, ever think of just being a bit more laid back nurse?"

"I can't be laid back with this," she argued, "He has a bullet wound, Gael. He just can't do some stuff. Period."

"Okay, but working from home isn't exactly lethal—"

"Physically no but mentally?"

"Have you ever considered that without his work, all Rafael has on his to-do list is think about what happened to him?" Gael knew the answer as his sister ducked her head. "What happened to him was pretty traumatic. I bet he doesn't want to think about it so he wants to bury himself in work."

"I don't want him to think about that stuff either," Montserrat mumbled. She more than anyone knew how moments like those could consume the mind.

"Find alternatives," Gael suggested, "And just take it easy. Coddling is no good either. Bet you would have less stress too if you weren't such a stickler right now."

Montserrat deadpanned her brother. "Gael."

"Living together is no joke. You have to compromise somewhere," Gael patted Montserrat's arm.

"We're not living together, I'm just…staying over until he's okay…"

"So you're living together right now," Gael concluded, "Compromise is key. Trust me."

Montserrat felt like she had no choice, not when Gael made sense. Maybe her nurse-mode was too strong right now and that's not what Rafael needed right now. He certainly didn't need the constant bickering.

"Thanks, Gael," she ultimately said to her brother. For once, he was just helping her out.

"Anytime," Gael said, "I already told you I like the guy and not—" he pointed at Montserrat, "—because he helped complete my bail money. Think it's about damn time someone puts you in your place every so often." Montserrat shoved him back, but no one could deny the smile that marked her face. Gael fixed his crinkled shirt with a laugh. "Just saying."

"Well stop saying more stuff," Montserrat playfully berated him and after a moment she added: "But thanks for your help."

Gael nodded and brought a hand over Montserrat's arm. "Of course. And I can't wait for that dinner."

"Mm," Montserrat's brow raised. "That's still up in the air." She patted her brother's cheek and side stepped around him.

~0~

On the way back to Rafael's, Montserrat couldn't stop thinking about her guilt. She felt absolutely horrible by the time she unlocked the door. She stepped inside quietly, immediately scoping the living room out. She didn't immediately see Rafael so she placed the bag of food on the coffee table. Rafael came out of the kitchen with a mug in hand soon after that.

"Hey, you're back," he remarked, his smirk widened and present, "Get your break? What, too short?"

Montserrat felt her stomach churn. You're horrible. She felt horrible. "I-I'm sorry, I'll be right back." She hurried into the hallway, leaving Rafael puzzled.

Had he said something wrong? For some reason, he felt like he needed to go check on her.

~0~

Montserrat had dumped her bag on the dresser and paced back and forth for a bit. "Calm down, calm down, you're making things worse!" She hit her head with her hands and forced herself to stop. "Get changed, and go out and talk."

She needed to follow her own advice before things got worse. Things couldn't get worse. She couldn't ruin things, not when her feelings had grown tenfold.

Her heart already hurt just thinking that she could end up pushing Rafael away from her. Was this self sabotage?

Dr. Weslin had already mentioned that a little after Montserrat admitted to being in a new relationship. Self-sabotage was a form of escapism in which victims often tried hard to push away people for fear that things wouldn't work out for them.

"No, no, no, no," Montserrat told herself over and over. She headed for her drawer and pulled out a t-shirt for sleep, along with a pair of pants. She set them both on top of the dresser then grabbed her own shirt from the bottom. She was pulling the strap of her bra when the bedroom door opened.

Rafael had come inside to check in on Montserrat. She whirled away from him, clutching her shirt against her chest.

"Montserrat! Sorry!" In his attempt to turn away immediately, Rafael felt his side communicate once again that he wasn't ready for which movements. "Argh!" His hand moved over his side while the other sustained his balance on the doorknob.

Montserrat instinctively turned back to now see his back, hunched over with his injuries. "Raf — what's wrong!?"

"Fine! Fine!" He waved a hand at her to stay put. "I'm sorry for coming in without knocking. I thought — you seemed upset — I didn't know —"

Montserrat felt her face warm up and quickly turned herself away from him. "It's my fault," she muttered.

"What? No it's not, you're…" Rafael looked over his shoulder and saw Montserrat had turned away again. He was going to do the same, by God he really was, but something on her back caught his eye.

At first glance it would be like a normal mark on skin — almost an odd birthmark — but with his experience he knew well enough that it wasn't the case. And he just couldn't help it. The instinct to protect overwhelmed him…along with a familiar anger.

"Montserrat, what's that on your back?" Even when her back was to him, Rafael saw the way Montserrat's body stiffened.

"I-I need to get changed now," she said, or rather sounded like she was pleading with him to forget about it.

Rafael couldn't do that — they would literally have to finish the job and kill him for that to happen.

Montserrat let out a light gasp when she felt a finger gently graze her lower back. Rafael had come up behind her to see the mark better.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" He asked quietly.

Montserrat wasn't sure if it was better that he didn't sound angry at her for it because the alternative was that he felt sorry for her. She swallowed hard. "It wasn't important to any of our conversations…you already know what happened…"

"But this is different — this is a literal scar from…from what?" Rafael didn't want to think about the movements that led to such a mark on Montserrat's skin. It was medium-sized and oddly shaped like whatever Montserrat was pressed against had been broken in some way and ended up in a sharp piece. The pain of something like that had to have been unbearable…

"There really is no point in discussing it anymore," Montserrat said, raising her arms to bring her shirt over her head.

Rafael was incredibly sorry for it but he pulled her arms down. He couldn't just let it go, not this time. "Montserrat," his voice was stern, "what is this?"

"It's just a mark, what else?" Montserrat whirled around, clutching her shirt to her chest. "None of that experience was pleasurable. Did you think a scar would be?" As soon as the words left her mouth and she heard them, she knew she'd been harsh.

Yet, Rafael didn't look the least bit phased by her attitude. He seemed used to that kind of stuff, and he was. It just made Montserrat feel even worse.

Instead of speaking, his fingers hooked under her chin and tilted her head up at him. Her breath hitched when his other hand came around her bare back, stopping precisely over her scar. His hand dropped from her chin as he pressed his forehead against hers, eyes shut.

Montserrat felt herself calm with his warmth against her. Her eyes fluttered close the more she focused on them and their closeness. It didn't even matter the way she was, her hard attitude — Rafael made her forget about it all. And without even having to speak too.

His talent is undeniable. She felt herself start to smile.

"You're okay," Rafael finally spoke a few minutes later, his voice quiet and soft. "You're here with me. You're safe."

Montserrat opened her eyes to see him already looking at her. The fondness in his eyes almost made her break down there and then.

Rafael offered her a little smile of encouragement. Believe me, he said. "There's no more danger." Not on his watch. He'd take another bullet for her anytime, anywhere.

Montserrat actually felt an ache in her heart when his fingers lifted off her back. She longed for his touch again, even if it was over the scars she would rather forget about. He could make even that seem pointless.

"I'm going to get you something to drink, okay?" Rafael said, giving her a small kiss on her cheek. "Just relax and finish getting changed."

Montserrat nodded silently and watched him step back until he turned to leave. Something was caught in her throat and the fact he was about to leave her made it feel even more urgent. His touch, his wordless help, his fondness and his care — she wanted all that. She wanted him.

"I love you," the words tumbled out of her mouth.

Rafael froze in his spot. The first thing that popped into his head was the blaring idea that he had absolutely heard wrong. Those little words — those little big words — had been a long lost notion to him. The last person who said that to him had promised so many things with that confession and in the end, she left him aside for an allegedly better man.

But the stretching silence helped warm him up to the idea that he wasn't insane. He had heard right which meant Montserrat was waiting for him to react. Silence probably wasn't viewed as a good lead.

He turned around and met her nervous eyes. She felt nervous and almost sick standing in her spot, still clutching her shirt to her chest. She was at her most vulnerable, and yet she'd somehow mustered the courage to say words she didn't think she would ever be able to say again.

Without saying anything, Rafael strode back (as much as he could in his condition) and slid his hands over Montserrat's cheeks to kiss her. He tilted her head up to deepen their kiss, not wanting her to get away for anything.

Montserrat wouldn't consider such a thing. She brought an arm around Rafael's neck, pulling him down. At the same time, Rafael lowered a hand down to her waist, his fingers pressing against her sides. Little by little, they traveled around her back until they splayed against her skin. Everything about her was so soft and warm — it was a whole temptation that Rafael wasn't sure he could resist.

He parted from her lips enough to speak but kept his forehead pressed against hers. "I love you too," he whispered.

Montserrat's breath hitched. Her heart raced about a thousand beats in just a minute. "You mean that?"

Rafael smiled at her. "Yes."

There was a moment where Montserrat wondered if this was real. "I'm — are you sure?"

Rafael had to laugh. "Yes. Why do you keep asking?"

"Because I've been so mean," Montserrat sighed, drawing away from him.

"Mean?" Rafael gave her a look. "What are you talking about?" He was close to laughing.

With a sigh, Montserrat pulled her t-shirt over her head to finish getting dressed. "I've been snarky and just plain ole mean to you while you're, you know…" She made a gesture at his side. "I'm sorry."

As much as Rafael wanted to laugh, and he did, the fact Montserrat looked pretty serious about the matter left him confused. "Again, what are you talking about? I'm okay. I know I'm a pain in the ass. Frankly, I'm surprised you've lasted this long without murdering me."

"Raf, I'm being serious," Montserrat crossed her arms. "You're hurt. I'm supposed to be helping you—"

"And you are," Rafael said, smiling out of sheer confusion. "You're doing more than you should. I told you from the start that you didn't even have to stay with me."

"Don't say crazy stuff," Montserrat rolled her eyes at him.

"Then you shouldn't either," Rafael countered, "Do you know why I like you so much? Why I love you so much?"

Montserrat faltered. "Why…?"

"Because I can't get enough of your personality. Where I'm mean — and I am mean — you're more. You always have something to say, especially when I say something first. You don't let me get away with anything. You keep me on my toes and I love that."

"You do?"

Rafael felt like this was a conversation they already had at some point. "Yeah, why wouldn't I? It would be boring if this was just one sided." He gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Where is this coming from?"

Montserrat drew in a small breath. "Just…thinking…" She gave a light shrug of her shoulders. "I felt awful for how I left this morning. I was so mean and—"

"Tired? You've been taking care of me non-stop. I assume you're tired, Montse. You're right. You need breaks. No one in their right mind could be my nurse and survive…except for you."

"Oh, shut up…"

"It's true. You're the only one who can handle me and keep me in my place," Rafael insisted, grinning. "You might find this hard to believe but there are women out there who think I'm a little scary."

Montserrat laughed on the spot. "You don't say?"

"Yeah, I don't get it…" Rafael shrugged, "But in truth, I'm scared of you."

"Stop," Montserrat pointed at him, barely holding her next laugh in. "You're trying to be funny with me."

"Not right now, promise. It's just the truth. This would be a very difficult relationship if things weren't so easy."

"You think this is all easy?"

Rafael chuckled. "For the most part, yeah. I didn't have that before — now I know what it's like and I can't get enough of it. You gotta believe me here." He took Montserrat's hands in his and squeezed them. "Do I need to make a case or something?"

Montserrat scoffed. "Nu-uh, you're not going to use me as an excuse to keep working."

"Well then I hope it stuck now," Rafael said, gently tugging her close to him. "Would you like some dinner then?"

Montserrat nodded. "I'd like that." She made to leave but Rafael pulled her right back into a kiss. Her squeak barely made it out before his lips crashed against hers.

It took her a second to catch up with him and even then Rafael was in control. She felt his fingers subtly creep under her shirt, gently crawling around her back. He'd found a new favorite place for sure and she didn't have any protest. She could stay like that forever…

But she also needed air.

She parted slightly, taking in an immediate breath, and blinked up at him. "Dinner?"

Rafael remembered his idea and had no choice but to nod. "Yeah." He pulled his hands off Montserrat and passed a few fingers through her hair. "Are you okay?"

Montserrat gave a nod of her head. "I will be now."

Rafael loved to hear that. "I love you."

Montserrat felt her heart skip. She bit her bottom lip, growing excited in just a few seconds. "I love you too." The words were such a novelty to her that she wanted to say them over and over, get her tongue used to them.

Rafael could see the joy practically radiate from Montserrat's eyes. He always wanted to see that, no matter what the reason was. She deserved to be happy. No one had any right to take that feeling away from her, not her happiness nor her sense of security.

#ocapp #fd: svu #svu #rafael barba fics #rafael barba imagines #rafael barba x oc #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fanfiction #svu fics #svu imagines #svu fic #svu fanfiction #svu imagine #rafael barba fic #oc: montserrat novak #fic: dare to forget me #ochub #allaboutocs

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yougotthat-write · 8 months ago

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Oui(ji) Had One Hell of a Party (Rafael Barba x Reader)

Word Count: 2,758

Warnings: Ouiji board, spirits, demons, language, alcohol consumption, dumb costumes for all yo faves lmao

Summary: You and Rafael host a Halloween party and it takes a demonic turn.

Author’s Note: This was started probably almost 3 years ago (big oof). I've lost the writing bug so I'm posting what was written and promptly unfinished, lol. Apologies but I still hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 here!

✶⭑✡⭑✶⭑✡⭑✶⭑✡⭑✶⭑✡⭑✶⭑✡⭑✶

Rafael Barba wouldn’t call himself a superstitious person.

He didn’t believe in ghouls, ghosts, and monsters in the typical way that small children would. He was an A.D.A. for Manhattan so he obviously came across fellow humans who did gruesome and unforgivable things, but when you had pulled out that stupid ten dollar Ouiji board that you had bought at the stupid Halloween store, Rafael may had sent a quick prayer up to whichever Lord was occupying the skies above him at that very moment.

His Catholic upbringing was trying to pound its way out of him and it made him down the rest of his scotch in one swallow before stepping over to his bar area to pour himself another drink. The low hum of your Halloween playlist mixed with the chatter of Rafael’s friends from the courthouse and your friends from the 16th precinct.

You sat on your living room floor, hunched over your coffee table, setting up the toy that would allow you to talk to those who had passed on. Sonny shifted on his feet as he stood next to Rafael. Remembering that Sonny was raised very Catholic as well, Rafael figured that this was making Sonny feel stupid for being uncomfortable with a children’s toy just as much as him.

The sound of your hands connecting together in a singular clap made Rafael’s grip tighten around his glass. He looked over at you and saw the “spooky” smile you were trying to give to everyone. The party had died down in the past couple of hours. Olivia Benson and Nick Amaro had gone home because of their kids. Fin Tutuola had gone home because “Halloween is whack! I don’t even like candy.” The rest of the guests had filed out after them in the passing hours.

Now, Sonny Carisi, Amanda Rollins, Rita Calhoun, and Trevor Langan were scattered around the living room. Sonny was next to Rafael, both of the boys standing farthest away from the direct line to demons. Sonny started to get so nervous that his fake mustache for his Sonny Bono costume wouldn’t stick to his upper lip. His counterpart and designated Cher was Amanda. She sat on the floor on the opposite side of you at the coffee table. She held the planchette in her hand, looking at the object with a smirk. Her long brunette wig was tossed to the side next to her.

Rita Calhoun downed another orange Jell-O shot before falling back onto the couch behind Amanda with a sigh. She pulled her long and obnoxious Devil tail from under her and held it in her fingers as she watched you read the directions for the Ouija board. Her Devil horns were slightly crooked on her head but she didn’t seem to notice or care.

Trevor Langan had ditched his obnoxious black cape twenty minutes into the party. He ditched the phony plastic fangs even sooner. His hair was quaffed upwards and if it wasn’t for the dark liner around his eyes and the fake blood on the corner of his mouth, he would look like he was ready for a day at work with his dress shirt, black slacks, and polished shoes.

Rafael would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a bit authoritative in his twenty dollar policeman costume, but he mainly did it to see the annoyed reactions of the 16th precinct detectives. Fin Tutuola had quipped, “Your badge is so cute and tiny, Barba. You got a fake gun too?” Nick Amaro had rolled his eyes so hard at the fellow Latino man that you thought they would roll right out of his pretty little head. Despite you being a fellow 16th precinct detective, you happily supported your boyfriend with finding the policeman outfit that fit his body in all the right places.

Trevor had rolled his eyes when you suggested pulling out the Ouija board but didn’t outwardly object to it like Sonny had. Trevor made his way over to Rafael and Sonny, grabbing a deep red Jell-O shot. He shot it back and then chuckled at Sonny’s uneasy face. But Trevor didn’t miss the uneasiness that was coming from Rafael.

“Scared boys?” The defense lawyer asked with a grin. Sonny scowled over at Langan.

“Shut up,” Sonny muttered. Feeling hot, Sonny pulled the brunette wig off his head. “I just don’t think we should mess with Lucifer and his minions.” Sonny’s Adam apple bobbed. “If Ma finds out about this, she’ll have the church exorcize me.”

Trevor stifled his snort with his hand. “It’s a kids game, Carisi. The box says ages six and up.”

Sonny grumbled under his breath before making his way over to the couch and plopping down next to Rita with a sigh. Rita pouted over at the detective, reaching up and pinching his pink cheek. “Don’t worry Sonny, the Devil is already here and she’s feeling pretty tipsy.” Sonny let out a nervous laugh before leaning out of Rita’s grip and rubbing his sore cheek.

Trevor’s attention was drawn back to the quiet prosecutor next to him. Rafael felt Trevor’s gaze as he lifted his newly poured drink to his lips.

One gulp. Two gulps. Three gulps.

Trevor leaned towards Rafael, “What are you so scared of Barba?” Rafael shot a look over to Trevor.

“There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Exactly.” Trevor slapped a hand onto Rafael’s shoulder and pushed him over towards the coffee table.

Looking up from the directions, you smiled at Rafael as he was ushered into the living room by Trevor. The pair of fake handcuffs that hung off Rafael’s belt jingled when Trevor’s large hands pushed Rafael down next to you. Rafael swore under his breath in Spanish to the man before Trevor went and perched himself onto the arm of the couch next to Sonny.

“I think we have it set up,” you say over to your boyfriend. Rafael nods subtlety before catching the gaze of Amanda sitting across from him. She watched Rafael from under her lashes and the corner of her mouth twitched up. Looking more head on at the two of you, she slid the planchette onto the board.

The intricate piece of wood was shaped in a triangle with rounded edges. In the center, a small dome of glass made it easy to see whatever was under the planchette when it would be slid around the board.

Rafael wouldn’t tell you — or anyone in the room for that matter — that he did not and would not touch that thing willingly. You grabbed the planchette and placed it in the middle of the board. The intricate letters and numbers were bold and taunting. Rafael swallowed the jumble of nerves trying to push their way up his throat.

He jumped slightly when you touched his arm to motion him to place his fingers next to yours. Taking a moment too long, Trevor cupped a hand around one corner of his mouth and boomed, “Scared of some ghosts, Barba?” Rafael shot another look over to Langan before you grabbed his hands.

Your hands brought comfort to him. They were warm as you guided his fingers over to the planchette and when you lightly knocked your shoulder into his, you whispered out, “Don’t be scared, hon. I’ll protect you,” your left eye dropped down into a wink and while Rafael rolled his own at your retort, it did make him more relaxed.

You motioned for Amanda to do the same. She reached out both of her pointer and middle fingers and found a spot on one of the planchette sides. Amanda spoke quietly, “What should we ask first?”

Carisi’s mouth twisted as he bit down on the inside of his cheek. Rita let out a loud hum, twirling the end of her tail in her hand. “Don’t you have to ask if there’s anyone here in the first place?”

“Yeah, let’s see what we’re cooking with,” Trevor jumped in. He was able to reach over to the side table to grab another Jello-O shot, passing one over the top of Carisi’s head over to Rita who grinned devilishly.

You let out a shaky breath — which threw off Rafael for a split second — and said, “Is there a spirit with us?” While a silence fell over the group, waiting for something, Sonny’s lips moved quickly and quietly as he mouthed a prayer.

You spoke again, more firmly, “Is there anyone who would like to speak with us today?” Amanda’s eyes went from the planchette, to you, to Rafael, back to you, and then back to the planchette. Rafael’s fingers twitched on the planchette, wanting to bring them back close to him, to his body. Or even to intertwine with your own fingers.

Despite the mellow hum of your playlist, there was a long and still silence between everyone in the room. Rita had stilled her tail twirling. Trevor’s mouth straightened into a thin line, eyebrow arched up. Sonny’s hands were clasped together in between his thighs. Amanda had squared her shoulders and she could feel the hair on the back of her neck trickle. Rafael’s mouth opened to say something — he wasn’t sure what he was going to say — but then he felt it in his fingers.

Rafael’s eyes are hard and locked onto the planchette. His fingers twitched as he felt the piece of wood slightly move diagonally away from him and over to the corner of the board where an intricately drawn YES was. When the word made itself at home under the glass dome in the middle of the planchette, Carisi’s voice was shaking, “That’s not funny Amanda,” the Brooklyn man scolded his coworker.

A noise came from Amanda in regards to Sonny’s accusation and when Rafael’s looked over at you under his lashes, you were already looking over at Amanda with a furrowed brow. Amanda felt your gaze on her and when she finally looked up from the planchette, she rolled her eyes, “Fine…fine.” Her hands lifted up in surrender and she scrunched her nose.

“See, nothing to be scared of Sonny,” Trevor snickered, fingers coming to pinch the top of Sonny’s ear. Sonny shouldered the brunette away, brows furrowed in annoyance and mouth lopsided into a frown.

“Bite me, Langan.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Carisi,” Trevor shot back just before shooting back another Jello shot. This one was green.

Rafael was silently thanking Amanda from across the table. Hands brought back close to his being, Rafael let out the breath he was holding. He shivered when you scolded Amanda, “Gimme your fingers and don’t joke about, Amanda.”

Amanda let out a huff of air at your tone. “Alright, okay. Calm down.”

Amanda reached out her fingers again and settled them onto her designated spot on the planchette. You copied her and when Rafael didn’t follow suit, you and Amanda looked over at the lawyer. Rafael felt the room shift over to his attention. He felt stuffy in his cheap police uniform. Glancing over at you, he caught your eyes and he silently pleaded.

You didn’t react for a moment until finally, you silently let him off the hook with the smooth transition of reeling in Langan to put his money where his mouth is. Rafael got up from his spot, maybe a bit too quickly, and went over to where Langan was previously heckling from on the couch. Rafael’s legs were jelly and he was happy to plop down onto the couch, grabbing a Jello shot. He swallowed it down too fast to even acknowledge the color of it.

Trevor Langan dramatically rolled his eyes when you beckon him to substitute in for the demon summoning. But he gladly strolled his way over and sat down next to you on the floor. You had to scooch over a bit to make room for Trevor’s long legs and overall more lankier body. He rubbed his hands together and gave a grin before planting his fingers onto the planchette. “Let’s get this show on the road, ladies!”

Amanda and you exchanged looks before your fingers found their spots. The room went quiet again. Nobody noticed it, but the music had stopped in the middle of a song. Rita found herself needing to rest her eyes as playing with a Ouiji board doesn’t really help overly drunk people stay awake. Her head rested against the shoulder of a rigid Carisi. He didn’t seem to notice the extra weight on him.

“I’ll ask the questions this time since cops aren’t too good with questioning suspects,” Trevor quipped. Amanda glared over at the lawyer. You ignored Trevor and shifted your gaze over to the board. “Hello spirits, demons, and devils–” Rita mumbled out a noise of acknowledgement, eyes still closed, snuggling more into Carisi’s shoulder. Carisi fought the urge to shrug her off because he didn’t want to be rude but he wasn’t in a particular cuddly mood. Trevor continued, “Are you here with us?”

Rafael felt a coldness in the apartment. He noticed the lack of music as the group stayed quiet. Sonny felt his neck get prickly, the hair standing up and a shiver rolled up his back. If Rita was more sober, she probably could have felt it.

“Spir—“ Trevor’s voice started but it was cut off by a yelp from someone as the room went dark, the snap of electricity confirming so.

“Oh, Mother Theresa!” Sonny’s voice was sharp and trembling. Rita let out a hum in question before opening her eyes. The air was rigid and cold. Rafael was quick to jump onto his feet in one swift motion. You blinked quickly, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Slowly but surely, you were able to make out shapes in the room. You were about to call out to Rafael when there was a sharp shriek. It started out high in its caliber but then it morphed into something gruesome and growling.

“What the fuck–” That was Trevor. Then a small light shone in the middle of the room, like a little slice of heaven from above. Rafael’s blood ran cold. Carisi stood abruptly, stumbling over his large feet towards Rafael. Rita curled her legs up onto your couch, hugging the back of the furniture, as if she was using it to ground herself not only physically, but mentally.

Trevor’s hand shook, making the light shive as it shined over onto the blonde detective. You couldn’t believe your eyes. You were sure nobody in the room could.

Across from you, on the other side of your thifted coffee table that took you thirty minutes to convince Rafael to get with you, was Detective Amanda Rollins possessed by something. All of her fingers were bent harshly and weirdly, each one of them touching the planchette in some way. Her shoulders were stiff, but her chin was lifted slightly, mouth slightly agape as she moaned and groaned inhumanely.

Her hair seemed electric. The ends of her blonde strands were lifting at the ends very slightly, strands engulfing around her head. The part that made your eyes water and your heart pound heavily were her eyes. They were wide open and black.

“A-amanda.. This i-isn’t funny!”

Sonny’s voice seemed to shake to the same rhythm as Trevor Langan’s hand. You heard the lawyer mutter more curses under his breath as he stood. Rita was able to swing her legs over the back of the couch and her feet stepped softly towards the front door of your apartment. She paused when Amanda let out another shriek that morphed into a muffled, pained groan.

In the dull phone flashlight, Amanda’s head began to turn, peeking over her shoulder at Sonny. Sonny backed up towards Rafael more, shivering as the two men touched. Sonny’s hand grabbed Rafael’s wrist tightly. “Amanda?” The voice was crackly and harsh, like Amanda had spent her last thirty years smoking two packs a day straight. Her teeth snapped together and her tongue swiped over her lips. She let out a giggle. “Amanda’s not here to play, Dominick.”

#law and order svu #law and order fanfiction #law & order svu #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba drabble #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fic #rafael barba fanfiction #spooky ooky #was supposed to be for Halloween lolol

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uncpanda · 1 year ago

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Blood is Thicker than Water: Chapter 20

AN: Not going to lie. I STRUGGLE writing wedding scenes. However, I really love how this chapter turned out. Instead of dragging it out, we get snippets. I love that about this. Please leave feedback.

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Master List

Guest List:

“Four hundred and thirty-six people.”

Rafa stares at you. He’s been sipping from that cup of coffee for over two minutes now. You lean forward and say it again, “Four hundred and thirty-six people.”

He finally puts the cup down, “I really don’t see the problem.”

You scream in frustration and stomp right out of the apartment.

The moment the door closes Rafael looks at Benny and asks, “She realizes I have a big family right?”

Wedding Party:

“So that gives me Rita as my best woman, and Ed and Eddie as groomsmen.”

“And I have Liv as my maid of honor.”

Rafa stares at you, “That means the sides are uneven.”

“So?”

“They can’t be uneven.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Why not?”

“It won’t look right.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Your fiance sighs, “What about your friends from college?”

“Most of them are already married and have kids. Plus they live in different states. That’s not fair to ask them.”

“Friends from childhood?”

“I hung out with Elliot’s kids. I haven’t talked to them in years, andI don’t really have a desire to do so now.”

“So this is just how it is.”

“Unless you want me to ask your mother?”

“Nope. We’re good.”

The Venue:

“What do you think?”

You look around at the garden. It is perfect for a springtime wedding. Even without the flowers in bloom, it’s gorgeous.

You look over at Rafa, his smile is stretched across his face. He’s done good. Amazing really. There’s just one problem.

“It’s not going to fit four hundred thirty-six people.”

Your fiance scowls, “We can figure it out. Some people can stand.”

You cross your arms, and lean forward, “That’s against the fire code counselor.” you point towards the plaque that reads a max of 300.

He throws his hands up in frustration, and finally says the words you’ve been waiting to hear, “Fine! I’ll make cuts.”

Ring Bearer:

“He needs a part in the wedding!”

“I’m not disagreeing with you.”

“You said no.”

“I said no, because I already told my sister Noah could do it, and he’s our nephew.”

“Well of course Noah is a ring bearer, I’m just saying Benny could be one too!”

“There’s also the fact that your grandmother might pass out if she sees a dog in the processional. We’re already not getting married in the neighborhood church. She nearly cried when we told her that.”

“She loves Benny!”

“I know, that’s why he can come to the reception and take pictures with us. I already talked to the venue and our dog walker.”

“Oh. Well, okay then.”

Shopping:

“So how did you manage to convince mama Barba and Abuelita and the rest of his relatives not to come today?”

You take a sip of the champagne in your hand, “I told them the truth. This is a you and me thing. No one else allowed.”

Liv smiles, “Well, it means a lot that it’s just us.”

“What do you think of these?”

You and Liv turn together and watch as Ed and Noah come out together. They’re dressed in matching tuxes. You and Liv melt. Noah is absolutely adorable, and Ed actually cleans up pretty good. While Rita is Rafa’s best woman, Ed and Eddie are his groomsmen, and Noah is the ring bearer.

After you’re all done cooing at Noah, Rafael finally steps out of the dressing room. He looks drop dead handsome in his tux. You feel your eyes go wide, and then he gets a little smirk on his face. You know you’re not living this moment down.

Music:

You stare at Rafa. He’s trying not to laugh. You can’t blame him. “She’s going to kill us.”

You smile, “This song comes from the first movie we ever watched together.”

“We’ve already found a way to work quotes into the wedding. If you walk down the aisle to this song, your sister might just kill us.”

You shake your head, a serious look coming over your face, “No she won’t. She knows why I love this movie, why I love the book.”

Rafa looks serious now too, “I think it’s perfect.”

Dress shopping:

“No,no, no, no, no! What did I tell you about off the rack? I said absolutely not! Where is your manager? I helped him evade a racketeering charge, he owes me!”

You sip on champagne and look at your sister. She has that look on her face, “At least it wasn’t a murder or rape charge.”

She nods in agreement before asking, “How did Rita end up on this chopping trip again?”

“This is apparently the best wedding dress shop around. She knows the owner . . . apparently rather well. She’s trying to help.”

A second later a terrified manager and a ranting Rita pass you by.

You both watch them go. You’re happy to say you don’t find your dress in that store.

Dress Shopping Part 2:

The day you find your wedding dress, you’re not expecting it. You’re less than five months away from the wedding, and you’re panicking a little bit. You KNOW it takes time to order a dress. Rita’s told you about it five million times.

You’re walking Benny when you see it. A small bridal shop, with a pretty dress in the window. You stare at it for several seconds before you call your sister. She answers on the first ring, “This better be an emergency. I’m in the middle of a case.”

“I think I might have found my wedding dress.”

There’s a moment of silence, “What’s the address, I’ll be there ASAP.”

You rattle it out just as an employee sticks her head out, “Hi there. Would you like to come in?”

You look down at Benny and she smiles, “He’s welcome to come in too. I love dogs!” You go in.

By the time Liv arrives, Benny is on his back getting belly scratches from the staff while you’re in the dressing room being fitted into your dream dress.

Liv stares at your goofy, three legged dog for a second before she calls out your name. You step out a second later.

You watch her eyes go wide, as she studies you for a second, “That’s it.”

You nod, “Yeah.” There are no tears. It’s just a comfortable feeling. This is your wedding dress.

The Night Before:

The night before your wedding is spent at Liv’s apartment. Ed and Noah head over to your place to spend time with Rafa and Eddie. It’s just the two of you. You put on face masks, paint your nails, and watch Disney movies. It reminds you of one of the best parts of your childhood.

It’s as you’re sitting on the couch that Liv says, “I’m so happy for you. You know that right?”

You smile, “I know.”

“He’s a good man.”

“The best in my opinion, though Ed gives him a run for his money.”

She smiles at that, “I truly think, you’re going to be really happy together.”

“I know so.”

With that, she pulls you in for a hug.

Right Before the Wedding:

You don’t actually feel nervous until about half an hour before the wedding. Your makeup and hair is done. You probably should have been in your dress by now, but you’re still in your getting ready outfit. Things are a bit behind schedule. Noah had a melt down, your sister has cried no less than three times, and Abuelita and Lucia have been bickering with each other. You haven’t seen Rafa. You’re not sure why you’re sticking to this stupid tradition, but you are.

You’re watching the chaos with an observant eye when someone taps you on the shoulder. You spin around to see your sister standing there. She tosses her head to the side and you follow her outside. The sun is shining and the March air is only a little chilly. You close your eyes and allow yourself a minute. When you open your eyes, you see Liv smiling at you.

“What?”

“It’s just crazy. How Lewis,”

“May he rot in hell,”

“Lead to all of this. You moving back and meeting Rafael. Me and Ed connecting, getting married, and having Noah. We’re getting those happy endings we dreamed of as kids.”

You hug yourself and look at the ground for a little bit before you look up, “Did I ever say thank you?”

“For what?”

“For raising me and loving me when you didn’t have to?”

Your sister hugs you, “You never have to thank me for that. You are one of the best joys of my life.” You smile at that.

Walking Down the Aisle:

You’re nervous, but you’re allowed to be. You’re in your dress, your veil is attached, and everyone has walked down the aisle except you and Liv. You look at your sister. She’s dressed in a black dress. She has once again avoided color.

She holds out her arm to you, and you take it. You close your eyes, and you count to three. The music starts: the instrumental Dawn from Pride and Prejudice; the first movie you and Rafa watched together. The movie you two still watch together.

You start to walk. It’s slow, and thanks to the three hundred and twenty three people (Rafa was able to cut it down) you can’t see Rafael yet. You do, however, see Uncle Don, and Finn, and Munch. You smile at them.

And then you turn the corner of people, and you see him. Rafael is standing there. He’s dressed in his tux. His hair is perfectly styled. His eyes are focused solely on you as though you’re the only thing he sees. You feel yourself start to speed up, but your sister grounds you like she always does.

When you finally reach him, you feel your breath leave your chest. And as you take his hand, everything else fades away. It’s just you and him. Just like it’s supposed to be.

#rafael barba fanfiction #ada rafael barba #rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba reader insert #law and order fanfiction #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order special victims unit #olivia benson #ed tucker #noah benson

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sej2020 · 2 years ago

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Better Me, Better You

Chapter 1

Chapter List

‘Hey you’ said Barba settling on the edge of your desk in the precinct late one evening.

‘Hi’ you smiled, sitting back in your seat.

‘Don’t you know when your captain goes so can you?’ teased Barba lightly.

‘Mm, that would be true of I didn’t offer to do her paperwork so she could go home to her son’ you said placing your elbow on the chair arm, cupping your chin looking up at the man.

‘Silly girl…. Got much left or do I need to order in?’ asked Barba, getting up and grabbing a chair from another desk, wheeling it over.

‘What are you doing?’ you asked watching the man in amusement as he sat in the chair next to you and began organising your desk.

‘Well how do you expect to work in a mess like this?’ said Barba with a raised eyebrow.

‘It’s not a mess, that’s the done pile, and that’s the load I’m starting now’ you said indicating the two piles.

‘Have you actually done anything since ‘Liv left?’ asked Barba.

‘I tried but it’s so boring Rafael’ you whined, Barba chuckling.

‘Oh dear lord women, move, let me sort a system, you order dinner’ exasperated Barba, handing you his phone then using his foot to roll your chair away from the desk so he could take your place.

Giggling you opened the man’s phone and ordered from your usual haunt, pleased to see the time would be under an hour for delivery. Once the order was sent you got to your feet and made your way to the break room, pulling out two mugs to pour two strong coffee’s. Returning to your desk with the now steaming mugs, you found Barba had organised three smaller piles, placing the work you had done in your done tray.

‘You can start with this pile’ said Barba taking his mug from you as you settled back at your desk, tapping a pile with his fingers.

‘And why this pile?’ you said flipping open the top folder.

‘This is the papers I need’ said Barba smugly.

‘Of course it is’ you snorted.

You spent the rest of the evening rolling your eyes at the mans instruction, but in no time you got all the necessary work completed, along with having a takeaway dinner all on Barba.

‘What plans you got for tomorrow? It’s still your day off right?’ asked Barba as you dropped off the completed folders into the Captain’s office.

‘It is... I haven’t thought much apart from having a lay in to be honest’ you said letting Barba put your coat on over your shoulders, handing you your bag.

‘Fancy brunch tomorrow then? I’ll come pick you up around ten’ suggested Barba as the two of you made your way towards the elevator.

‘Sure, that would be fun’

Chapter 2

#rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba x reader #barba x reader #rafael barba #ada rafael barba

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objection-argumentative · 2 years ago

Note

are you taking requests?

Hey!

Yes I am but I will be going at my own speed with them

Feel free to leave me any requests

#my work #law and order svu #svu #svu fanfiction #fluff #sonny carisi #dominick carisi #l&o: svu #detective carisi #my words #svu imagines #law and order special victims unit #mike dodds #rafael barba fic #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba #elliot stabler

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etclouie-masterlists · 19 days ago

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ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you like rafael, join my taglist

ᯓᡣ𐭩 reqs are open and welcome

ᯓᡣ𐭩 main masterlist | svu masterlist

— #𝜗𝜚 rafael barba

— * contains smut / suggestive content, warnings posted on each individual fic; read and heed the warnings. all content is 18+, mdni

₊˚⊹♡

main fics

- in court coming soon !

₊˚⊹♡

600 event fics

- "You weren't supposed to hear that"

- "all my friends told me you'd break my heart" and "we can't afford to do this anymore"

requests can be made here !

#— ୨୧₊˚ louie’s masterlist #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x you #law and order svu #l&o svu #svu #svu fanfiction #svu x reader #reqs open

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winchesterszvonecek · 3 months ago

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uniform from the one word prompts with rafael??👀

Uniform - [Rafael Barba]

Send me a prompt or a single word and I’ll write five-ten sentences/paragraphs about it

Masterlist | Rafael Masterlist

Before you met Rafael you hated being in uniform.

There were too many layers for your liking that it took you forever to get dressed in the morning and when you did, you were instantly thrown into a state of uncomfortableness. The deep navy material of your NYPD uniform was always so coarse and rough that you spent most of the day twitching beneath it or subtly rubbing your back against the patrol car seat like a bear in order to relive some of the intense itchiness it brought upon you.

But when you met Rafael, that feeling changed as quickly as you once did when you got home. Unlike yourself, he loved seeing you in your uniform. He loved lounging in bed, a glass of scotch nestled in his grasp and a deep-ridden hunger shimmering across his eyes as he drank you in, watching as you slowly shed every article of clothing for him as though putting on a show.

It didn’t matter to him if it never went any further after, as oftentimes you were too tired on shift days to do anything but show off for him, he still loved it. You always started with your pants. The way you’d slowly shimmy your hips out of them and allow the flowing material to glide down the length of your legs was tantalising and ever since the first night he had the pleasure of watching you undress before him, Rafael was hooked.

“Mi amor, you seem tired tonight…” Rafael began, his sultry tone drifting across the bedroom towards you. You glanced over at him, your head tilted and your eyes a little narrow as you thought you’d been pretty obvious when you arrived home that you weren’t that tired for once. You were about to correct him. About to tell him you were as lively as could be until he smirked, raising his brow. “Perhaps I could assist you in disrobing?”

At the scheming glint that sparkled in those delectable dark green eyes of his, you smiled, dragging your bottom lip between your teeth as you dropped your hands from the collar of your shirt that you had just been about to unbutton. You made your way towards him, your stomach fluttering intensely at the darkness that riddled his features as he watched you, his hips shifting under the sheets in a way that had you burning beneath the hem of your shirt you could feel brush against your skin with every step you took towards him.

The second you reached his side of the bed he set his scotch aside and pulled you onto his lap, feeling as you straddled him. Your thighs tightening around his legs with such intensity that he twitched beneath you as you unintentionally ground yourself against him, a soft groan leaving his lips as they connected with yours. He kissed you hard, your teeth knocking together in a way that might have made you cringe had he not started trailing his hands up the length of your hips, his fingers digging deep into your flesh before they ventured under your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist so slowly, so sensually, that a wave of goosebumps easily erupted across your skin.

“On seconds thoughts,” Rafael whispered against your lips, his hands leaving your waist as they came to grip the front of your shirt. He ripped it open, the soft clicking of the buttons coming undone sending a small shiver down your spine as he instantly leaned forward, pressing hot kisses down the length of your chest and pulling the cups of your bra down too.

You gasped at the sudden sensation of his hot tongue on your nipple, swirling and flicking at it like his life depended on it. Your hands began to travel up the length of his arms, your fingertips pressing hard into the tensing muscles beneath as you made your way to his hair, gripping the short, silvering strands tightly as he continued to lather your chest in kisses.

“Let’s leave the shirt on,” Rafael murmured, flipping you onto your back in one quick, fluid motion. He then towered over you, a deep, rattling groan forcing its way up his chest at the mere sight of you, your hair fanning over the pillow and your embroidered NYPD shirt still hanging loose around your glistening torso. “‘Cause if there’s one thing I love more than seeing you in your uniform… It’s fucking you in it.”

Like Rafael? Apply to his tag list here so you don’t miss out on his works!

tagging: @doublebassallie @namethathasnotbeentaken @cringystyles

Like my work? Consider buying me a coffee!

#rafael barba masterlist #rafaelbarbaedit #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fic #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba #law and order svu x reader #law and order svu fic #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order oneshot #rafael barba oneshot #winchesterszvonecek

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thatesqcrush · 4 months ago

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Beautiful Sinner (Priest! Barba AU), Prologue & Ch. 1

Priest! Barba x f! reader | SVU au

Rating: NSFW for language, graphic smut, basic desecration of religious upbringing.

WC: 8.6K

AN: I am so going to hell. One way ticket for lil old me.

AN2: Big thanks to @beccabarba for reviewing and being my soundboard.

Prologue:

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been, It's been too long since my last confession.”

“Go ahead,” the voice behind the screen began. “Tell me your sins.”

You shivered at the tambor of the words spoken. And you know that your sins were also their sins.

“I'm not seeking penance for what I've done, Father. I'm asking forgiveness for what I'm about to do,” you clarified. Your voice was soft.

“That’s not how this works,” the familiar voice replied. “What exactly are you going to do?”

You let out a shaky breath and heat flushed your cheeks. You began to unbutton your blouse. “I think you already know, Father.”

— Ch. 1—

*six months earlier*

It was a blistering summer day in Manhattan, the sun beating down relentlessly, casting sharp shadows on towering skyscrapers. The pavement radiated intense heat, mirages shimmering above the asphalt street. The air was thick with a suffocating blend of exhaust fumes, unpicked garbage bags and urban heat. City dwellers sought refuge in shaded pockets, and the city seemed to pulsate with the collective desire for relief from the oppressive heat.

It also happened to be your first weekend in your new home-a nine-story walk up in Hudson Heights.

You received your pink slip and had to make the hard decision to move. Your aunt was subletting her apartment while she traveled across the Borneo rainforests. Transitioning to a more modest apartment was a challenging shift. You had to adapt to a different community vibe and recalibrate your lifestyle expectations. You had introverted tendencies but you tried to remain resilient, focusing on navigating this life change as a time to reset.

You opened the window and stuck your head out. Spanish music played outside loudly and the normally traffic filled street was closed, with people milling about. It was the annual block party for the neighborhood, with vendors and entertainment alike. The food smelled wonderful and your stomach growled in response. The sound of a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. You ducked your head, making sure to avoid giving yourself a concussion. “Coming!” You called out as your bare feet padded the floor. You knew who it was - Maria, your next door neighbor who you met on move-in day. Maria was friendly with your aunt and you knew that she had promised your aunt that she’d keep an eye on you. She was close in age to you and immediately offered you a helping hand, helping you bring up boxes. You thanked her with pizza and beer and the two of you were on your way to becoming fast friends.

When Maria had texted you earlier in the week,” ‘Block party! Want to come with?’ it was an easy yes.

You opened the door and let Maria in. “Just need shoes and my bag. Help yourself if you want anything,” you called out, heading back towards your bedroom.

You heard your fridge open, the cacophonous sounds of beverages clanking together followed by the click and hiss of a can opening. Soon enough, you were both on your way.

–

Time flew and you found yourself really enjoying yourself. Eventually Maria had to leave - she was meeting her boyfriend and his sister to head into Queens to catch the Mets game.

You were still beyond hot, the humidity was thick, almost choking you. You pulled out a claw clip from your bag and pinned your hair up. Just even having the damp strands off the nape of your neck provided some, albeit, minimal relief. In that moment, you missed your pixie cut from years prior.

The local fire department had opened the fire hydrant and there was a gaggle of kids playing in the water. You looked at the water longingly before you internally said ‘fuck it,’ and ran through the open fire hydrant. The force of the water was stronger - and colder - than you had anticipated and you let out a shriek. You ran through it once more - this time not as close to the hydrant - enjoying the water washing over your overheated skin. Sufficiently cooled off, you continued on your way through the neighborhood.

There was a generalized area with a tent set up for community outreach. Curiosity piqued, you moseyed on over. You picked up a pamphlet - St. Blaise Church. You were religious as a child, it was as how your parents raised you. As an adult, you found yourself straying away, not agreeing with the church’s ideals which contradicted your more liberal beliefs. Sometimes, though, you found yourself missing it - especially during Christmas and Easter, when the congregation would meet up together in mass throngs. There was something about community that made you wistful.

“Interested in the Church?” a voice questioned. You looked up and you locked eyes with a handsome man. That was an understatement. He was obscenely good looking. Almost as if it hurt to look at him straight on. You felt a jolt straight to your core. No one should look as good as he did.

He took your breath away with his green eyes and thick, fitted build. His hair was dark with flecks of gray at the temples. His salt and pepper beard neatly framed his jawline. The man gave you a smile, his eyes crinkling. Crow's feet gracefully fanned out from the corners of his eyes, evidence of a life rich in laughter and stories. Dressed in comfortable yet stylish summer attire, he exuded a casual sophistication. He wore a fitted polo with fitted shorts that were borderline criminal. The polo was slightly unbuttoned, which allowed for a hint of chest hair along sun-kissed skin to peek through. Immediately your brain went to the gutter.

“Miss?”

You blinked. It was as if your brain broke and you had no idea as to how to respond. He raised a brow and inwardly you melted, feeling warmth bloom through you.

“Uh, sorry. The heat is just getting to me,” Nervous laughter accompanied your lame excuse.

“No worries, it happens to the best of us. I’m Rafael Barba.” He offered his hand and you took it. As you shook his hand, warmth bloomed through you.

He offered you a beer from a cooler and you happily accepted. And over beer, you find yourself enamored with every word from his lips. You suspected Rafael was involved with the church with how passionately he spoke about it. And when he invited you to attend the Adult Fellowship group after Sunday’s mass, you found yourself agreeing.

“...the fellowship hour following the Liturgy provides opportunities to develop friendships, meet parishioners or simply exchange information of mutual interest. There are monthly birthday celebrations and seasonal events, such as Christmas and Easter parties, as well as a spring picnic. We are always looking for more—”

Rafael’s cell rang and he apologized before excusing himself. You nodded and rocked on your heels, once again taking in the scene before you as you finished your beer.

This new neighborhood was already looking up.

—

As Rafael took the call, he couldn’t help but turn around to look at you once more. His eyes raked over your form, fully drinking you in. He swallowed hard, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He could feel a slight stirring in his pants, and furiously shook his head.

‘No,’ his brain argued. ‘No.’

He was not being turned on right now. Rafael tried to push the thought away and turned his attention back to the phone.

After the Householder case and resigning from the D.A.’s office, Rafael decided he needed to get away from it all. He spent the next three months holed up in his apartment, avoiding anyone and everyone.

Even if he didn’t want to - there was no one who would understand what he did. His mother was horrified and stopped talking to him. He received more than one gloating, sneering call from the recidivist he should have blocked — Alex Muños. Even Yelina spurned him.

He was truly alone.

So what was an acquitted, former ADA to do?

He prayed.

He had lapsed from religion. After working in the DA’s office and seeing all the especially heinous, depraved, evil out there - he was convinced there was no God.

He couldn’t explain why he did what he did - he did what he had to. Something called him to do it.

Was it God? Was it the Devil?

He wasn’t sure. So he prayed some more.

And then one night it came to him. The calling from God.

After a lengthy period of hemming and hawing, weighing the pros and cons, he contacted the local diocesan vocational director and began the requisite training. That training looked like pre-theology for 2 years followed by a tenure at a major seminary where he studied languages—some of which he already knew -Latin, Spanish, Greek. He also took graduate level studies in theology, including Doctrine, Canon Law, Church History, Scripture, and Liturgy.

He called St. Blaise’s home for three years. He found joy in community and spreading the Gospel. He gave to the community as much as he could possibly give. He thought it would be weird - that people would recognize him and call him a baby killer. And if they did - they never did it to his face. Rather, the community embraced him.

He was still busy as ever - mass was everyday, there were funerals, baptisms and weddings. He did outreach with the youth and began a fellowship for parishioners who were in a similar age cohort. Having saved quite a penny as an ADA, he lived off his savings. A priest’s salary was meager and he still had to pay taxes. So his salary sat in another account which went towards that.

The summer block party was an annual event, but very nubile - only in its third year. It’s where he felt he could give most back and the community could truly come together.

He hadn’t felt an attraction to any form of secular life in ages.

Until you just now.

He could use the excuse that he was a man after all. A man who used to be sexually active with both men and women alike. But before you, he was able to steer his thoughts away and put that energy into something else for the betterment of the church and community.

And then you came along, soaking yourself as you sprinted through a pump before going back for more.

His eyes traveled over you again. You were soaked, the material of your clothing sticking to you. Your tank top - now sheer - showing off your nipples which were diamond hard due to the combination of the cold water and air.

‘Fucking hell, get a grip.’

But he turned around to get yet another look, while yes’ing the person on the phone. His eyes trailed over the shorts you wore, perfectly molded to your ass and thighs. The rest of your legs were equally toned and for a split second, he could imagine them wrapped around his hips.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake.’

He wanted to talk to you more but this phone call ate up his time. Finally after what seemed like forever, he was free again. He decided at that moment, he needed to clear his head, so he sat back down and willed his cock to deflate. He closed his eyes and was about to cover his face with a hat when you interrupted him again.

“So what’s a lapsed Catholic to do if she wants to rejoin the church?”

Rafael lifted the hat off his face and sat fully. He cocked a brow. “Well, you can start by coming to mass tomorrow.”

“I suppose,” you sighed. “It’s been awhile.”

“How long is a while?” Rafael inquired gently. He gave you a kind smile. You looked away, embarrassed. Heat flooded your cheeks.

“Years,” you supplied.

Rafael nodded and then cocked his head. “Are you familiar with the parable about Jesus and the lost sheep?”

You nodded. “I’m the one that Jesus is looking for?”

Rafael nodded. “Maybe. But what about coming to mass first and checking it out before making any commitments?”

You nodded again. “I’ll think about it.”

“Hey stranger! Long time no see!” a familiar voice called out, interrupting the conversation.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Maria, now accompanied by her boyfriend.

“I thought you were going to the city,” you asked, chucking your beer in the garbage can next to you.

“Changed our minds. Plus Robbie’s sister is being a little bitch.”

That earned a ‘hey!’ from Robbie before he acquiesced. “Yeah, she is being a little bitch.”

You turned back around but Rafael was nowhere to be seen. You looked at the pamphlet once more before folding it and tucking it away for later.

“I cannot believe you spoke to Fr. Barba like that,” Maria continued.

“Wait - what? He’s a priest?”

Maria nodded. She then pointed to your still soaked appearance. “You can see your tits through your tanktop. Wrong day to not wear a bra. You look like you could win a wet-tshirt contest.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment as you looked down and realized Maria was in fact correct.

“Probably thanked God - that celibate life must be rough,” Robbie laughed. “He’s been a priest for how long? I can’t imagine not having sex.”

You weren’t listening though, too consumed in your embarrassment and attraction. Of course the hottest man on the planet is a fucking priest. ‘And of course I would basically flash him.’

Later that evening at home, you poured some kibble in a bowl for your cat and heated up a quick meal. As you waited for your food to finish, you rifled through your closet for something to wear to church. Your eyes landed on a sundress that you knew was probably much too short for church. You frowned and kept looking until you found the perfect outfit.

You told Maria that you were going to attend mass. You had already promised the hot priest you’d come to the fellowship group. If you didn’t show, then you would be a liar, and you couldn’t lie to a priest - right?

—

The following morning you found yourself at church with Maria.

“I want to sit up in the front,” you whined as the both of you shuffled into the pew.

“I’m too hungover to sit in the front,” Maria grumbled. “You think I can get away with leaving my sunglasses on?”

You rolled your eyes. “This is probably the one mass you can get away with that shit,” you replied before slapping your mouth with your palm. “I didn’t mean to curse, shit, oh no, God damnit!”

Maria laughed at your foul mouthed word salad. “You can confess to Fr. Barba after.”

The organ began to play and you stood. You motioned to Maria to stand and she ignored you, instead choosing to rest her head on the back of the bench of the pew in front of her. You watched as the altar servers carried in the items needed for mass - Cross, the processional candles, incense and Bible. Your eyes followed as Fr. Barba walked behind. He wore green vestments and you vaguely recalled that the color of the robes indicated where you were along in the church calendar.

Mass went as typically as you remembered. You sang from the hymnal, prayed along the congregation, and actually listened to the homily instead of daydreaming about being anywhere else. Fr. Barba was straightforward, discussing Jesus’ anger.

“Paul commands us in Ephesians 4:26, be angry and do not sin; don’t let the sun set on your anger. I’ve heard a lot of sermons on the “but do not sin” part: anger can give opportunity to the devil and birth all manner of hell in relationships. I’ve also heard a lot of sermons on the “do not let the sun go down on your anger.” But I haven’t heard any sermons on these two words: be angry.”

Fr. Barba paused before continuing. “Be angry. As we look upon a world of injustice and abuse, even in the church, we can learn how to be angry in love together. And we learn this the way Paul did: from Jesus. Jesus got angry. Regularly. And we see a pattern in his anger: whenever someone vulnerable or powerless suffered injustice at the hands of the strong and powerful, Jesus opposed this injustice with loving anger.”

The Liturgy of Word concluded and then transitioned into the Liturgy of the Eucharist. You watched intently as he performed prayers and rites in Latin that had existed for thousands of years.

It was time for Communion but you didn’t feel up to receiving. So instead, you just watched. As you scanned the church, your eyes locked with Rafael’s. He was watching you, a frown on his face. You felt your cheeks grow hot once more and you turned away out of embarrassment.

Mass concluded shortly after. The fellowship hour was immediately afterwards, held in the basement of the church. Maria had zero interest in attending so you parted ways before heading down. The smell of incense and something very “churchly” permeated in the air as you walked down the dimly lit stairs.

The basement was as expected, acoustic tile ceiling, fluorescent lights, that unique slight churchy smell, boxes of various items, beige metal folding chairs, long tables, pillars in the middle of the room holding up the sanctuary one floor up. There was a life-size nativity in the back, with a Joseph whose hand was broken and an unfortunate beheaded sheep statue. Someone was setting up a coffee maker and someone else was plating store-bought cupcakes.

You chit-chatted with some congregants, majority of whom you met at the block party.

As you made a cup of coffee, you were unaware of Fr. Barba entering the room. It was only when you heard his voice and the sound of people shuffling to sit. You turned, sipping your coffee as you did so. No, Fr. Barba was no longer in those ceremonial robes that hid away everything. Instead, he wore fitted dark denim with a black shirt and his collar.

Your eyes tracked him as you continued to speak with others. You made sure to glance back to the folks you were speaking with - implying you were listening when you really weren’t. You watched as he moved easily through the room, greeting people, making jokes. What a waste of good looks.

People began to slowly sit, the chatting quietly winding down. Eventually, you took a seat. Everyone sat in a circle and you felt as if you were in an AA meeting.

“Welcome,” Fr. Barba began. “Thank you all for taking the time to come today.” He turned his gaze to you and stretched his arm in your direction. “We have a newcomer.” He gave you a small smile, his eyes crinkling in the corner.

You gave a small smile and waved, before introducing yourself.

There was a more in depth discussion of the readings from the mass. You hung onto every word Rafael said. Fr. Barba, Fr. Barba, Fr. Barba you chanted in your mind as if you were trying to ensure that stayed in your mind.

He’s a priest you told yourself. He’s Father - not Daddy.

—

You became a regular at church and also at the afternoon fellowship. You were usually quiet, opting to listen more so than anything. Today was different.

Fr. Barba asked the group to share their most favorite parts of scripture; he had anticipated the majority of responses - Genesis, one of the Gospels, Proverbs. Your comment made his stomach flip.

“I personally enjoy Song of Songs,” you offered. “It celebrates sexual love.”

“Jewish tradition reads it as an allegory of the relationship between God and Israel,” Fr. Barba offered.

“In Christianity, it is read as an allegory of Christand his bride, the Church,” you countered.

“I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me,” Fr. Barba responded.

You flushed. “His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. It is an unabashedly sensuous, even at times quite erotic, paean to love,” you continued as you leafed through the Bible you held.

“No matter what interpretation you choose to believe, the book is a powerful and profound reminder of the beauty and depth of God’s love for us. It is a beautiful book that has been celebrated for centuries and one that can still bring joy and comfort to believers today.”

There was a pause and then Rafael clapped his hands. “I think that’s enough to stop for now. Thank you all for coming. I’ll see you all next week.”

You hung back, helping to clean up. Slowly the group dissipated, leaving you and Fr. Barba alone.

“You’re still here.” Fr. Barba’s voice was thick and dark. You shivered in response.

“I really enjoyed myself today,” you replied softly as you approached him. You closed the gap between you and him. You could press your hands to his chest if you wanted to.

Oh how you wanted to.

Your nipples strained against the confines of your top. You wanted to drop to your knees and show your worth - take another type of communion.

‘Behave,’ you told yourself.

“Did you now?”

His expressive, bright green eyes are now dark and stormy. His jaw is tight. You swallow hard.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I won’t have it,” he continues. His voice is clipped and you shivered in response.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not playing at anything Father. I’ll see you next week.”

Rafael didn’t reply. He watched as you turned about and walked away with a deliberate sway of your hips. His eyes were focused on your ass. All he wanted to do in that moment was to haul you over a pew and spank your ass for your insolence. His cock ached and twitched in his pants.

You turned back towards him, a full smile gracing your face. “I’m really looking forward to being a member of this congregation.”

Once you were gone, Rafael sat down on a folded chair dismayed.

He was so screwed.

God almighty help him.

—

It was a delicate dance. There was a part of you that enjoyed toeing the line with Fr. Barba. And part of you felt a smidge guilty. But fuck, he was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

As Fr. Barba. Well, you weren’t alone in the desperate want and lust you were feeling.

He played with you in his fantasies. He knew what he was getting into when he became a priest. He swore to God to not know another’s body. It was the least he could do considering he killed baby Drew.

He wasn’t supposed to have these kind of thoughts.

It had been so long and he was under your spell.

After the group meeting, he had to hustle back to his home - a small home attached to the rectory. He made quick work of removing his clothes. He hissed as grasped his aching cock. Stroke, stroke, stroke.

Self pleasure was also a no-no.

Masturbation involved lust. It’s to use another person for your own selfish pleasure. The person becomes an object and it denigrates their dignity as a human being.

When he was around you, he wanted to throw everything into the wind. The image of your soaked tits haunted him. He threw his head back as he continued to jerk himself. Desire. You made him fucking feral.

He imagined kissing you after the meeting the second you and him were alone.

His lips crushed against yours. He pressed your back against the wall, his knee parting your legs.

One hand tangled in your hair, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot of your skin.

It was as if you released a part of him that he had kept tucked away for so long.

He stripped away your top, before mouthing your tits before dropping to his knees. Your hand moved through his hair.

“Taste me,” you’d beg. You’d beg so nicely and who was he to deny his lamb?

He imagined grabbing your ass, pulling your dripping pussy to his mouth. You would drape a leg over his shoulder, grounding yourself hard against his mouth.

“Fuck, right there. Just like that.”

He would put his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushed his tongue inside, tasting, licking, and sucking.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” you’d moan. “Don’t stop. Oh God, I am going to come. Please, fuck me.”

He would undo his belt and drop his pants, grasping his cock in his hand. He’d rub the head of his cock along your folds, teasing you until neither one of you could stand it before burying himself deep inside of you.

“I want everything you’ve got. I want to feel it all.”

“Is that what my little lamb wants? To be fucked hard like a whore?”

“Yes,” you’d beg. “Please.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Come for me little lamb,” he’d encourage. You’d fall apart at his words. He could imagine how your wet, soft, pussy would suck his cock in, deeper and deeper. He would imagine thrusting deep and hard, his cock dragging against your sweet spot. He’d come hard, deep inside of you, his come painting your walls.

In reality he grunted and groaned as his cock kicked. He came all over his hand and belly. He panted, waiting for his breath to even out.

‘Shit.’

—

It was a gloomy Tuesday morning as Rafael worked in his office. Homilies were a lot like closing arguments. Instead of trying to sway the jury, he had to connect with his congregants. Instead of evidence, it was the gospel.

He was distracted. His mind kept wandering to you. Were you some kind of a test for him?

You were under his skin. An itch that couldn’t be scratched. Or stroked. You had consumed his thoughts.

He tore the yellow sheet off the pad before crumpling it.

Rafael tried very hard to live a holy life, especially as he had known what life was like, could be like, outside of the church.

And until now, through God’s grace, he had done very well.

He looked at the time. Confession was to start soon. Confession wasn’t popular. Usually before the bigger high holidays, people would come in droves. But a regular, run of the mill Tuesday? Not a chance.

He had his regulars though, who would come without fail. They were long standing members of the community. Being bilingual was a big boost for the church.

Rafael put on his collar, and changed into dark slacks from jeans and then headed out.

—-

You peeked into the booth. Seeing that it was empty, you made your way in and sat down.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It’s been… um, years since my last confession.”

Rafael was stunned. It was you.

‘Focus.’

You began with some menial, ordinary sins. Rafael focused on what you were saying, ignoring the throb of his cock.

“And, of course, this… all leads to the most wicked one.”

Rafael swallowed hard. “Go on.”

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Me?” Rafael questioned. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ “What do you mean?”

“You’re so kind and thoughtful. I probably shouldn’t say this because it’s so inappropriate, but you’re so fucking handsome. And it’s resulted in some wicked behavior.”

“Wicked how?” His hands ball into fists before he grabs the tops of his thighs hard, trying to steel his thoughts.

“I— I’m sorry. I need to go.” You’re stammering over your words, your heart racing.

Rafael heard the panic in your voice and he frowned. The confessional creaked as you stood. Rafael was filled with an overwhelming need to get you to stay. “We all sin. Including myself. God made us imperfect and can he really get to be disappointed in us when we do imperfect things?”

“I— I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone else. And I am filled with despair about wanting what I can’t have,” you reply softly. “What can I do about this? Can I say 10 Hail Mary’s or something?”

You continue. “And can I be absolved if I don’t feel bad about what I’ve done or said in the past? They’re all things I wanted to do.”

Rafael wracked his mind on what to say.

And before he could, he heard you open the door and leave. He stood quickly and pushed open the curtain. But it was too late. You were already gone.

—

Sunday mass came like clockwork.

As Rafael led mass, he scanned the pews for you. He was disappointed when he didn’t see you. He saw your friend and he made a mental note to talk with her afterwards.

“Fr. Barba, great service,” Maria commented as she shook Fr. Barba’s hand.

“Thank you. I- I am glad you came. You had been coming with your friend—“

“Oh! You mean — yeah, she couldn’t come today. She had some stuff to take care of. She’s new to the area and I know she could really use the community support,” Maria replied. She looked past Rafael and smiled brightly. “Oh there she is!”

Maria called your name. Rafael turned around and he saw you across the street. You were dressed more conservatively and he felt a wave of disappointment.

You half jogged across the street and before Rafael knew it, you had materialized in front of him.

“Hi,” you greeted as you tucked your hair behind your ear. “Sorry to have missed mass.”

“It’s okay,” Rafael laughed. “It’s not like God is keeping tabs.”

You smiled. Maria turned to you. “Was just telling Fr. Barba how you could use some community.”

“Uh,” you blanched. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, help is always needed at the community center or food pantry,” Rafael offered. “Meet plenty of people that way.”

“Yeah, sure. I - I saw in the bulletin you were looking for someone to go over your books.”

Rafael shifted. “Um, I was looking more for a CPA—“

“Well you are in luck!” Maria hit your arm. “You’ve got your own CPA here.”

“I-I am not a CPA. I was treasurer of my sorority years ago,” you explained. “But I lost my job and I need money,” you shrugged. “That’s all.”

Rafael sighed and rubbed his neck. As much as Olivia was a bleeding heart, he was too, especially with his roots. “Um, stop by the rectory sometime next week and we can talk it through.”

You smiled brightly. “Oh that would be great! Really! Thank you.”

Rafael nodded. You turned to Maria. “We have to go. Reservations?”

Other congregants had started to line up to speak with Rafael. He turned towards the line, but not without glancing back, watching you walk away.

Rafael admired you from behind, appreciating how your jeans hugged you in all of the right places. A flash of heat coursed through him.

‘God damnit, what are you doing?’

—

You never came by. Or to mass. Rafael thought you might have had a change of heart. Perhaps your flirtation with religion had flamed out. He found himself longing to see you but also increasingly frustrated with himself. He busied himself as much as possible so that he couldn’t even think of you. You were the absolute last thing on his mind.

When you rapped on his door two and a half weeks later, Rafael was more than surprised. He was downright startled, like a horse with thunder. He had been knee deep in the church’s financial books.

“I’m sorry, I hope I am not intruding. I know it’s late.”

Rafael relaxed. “No, not at all. Please, come in, sit.”

You slunk in the chair with ease and eyed Rafael’s outfit. “You don’t look like a priest.”

Rafael arched a thick brow. “And what do I look like?”

“Like a regular guy. Someone I would meet at a bar,” you shrugged as you waved your arm as if to make a point. Rafael was wearing dark jeans with a button down, sleeves rolled up and brown brogues.

Rafael laughed. “Well, there was a point in my life where you would have found me there. Speaking of bars, would you care for a drink?”

“I thought priests could only drink church wine.”

Rafael laughed again. “No, no, we can drink more than church wine.” You heard the clatter of glass and the sound of liquid pouring. “Here,” Rafael turned to you, his arm outstretched, holding a lowball glass with amber liquid. “Macallan 18.”

You took it from him and swirled the liquid before sniffing. You closed your eyes as you took a sip. You hummed, pleased. “This is good. Dangerously good.” You took another sip. “Oh this goes down way too easy.”

‘I bet my cock will go down easy.’

Rafael coughed and shook his head. “Uh, yeah, it does.” He took a large swallow of his glass and then poured himself another glass.

“You’re wondering why I’m here now. Instead of two weeks ago.”

Rafael perched himself on the corner of his desk. “I am.”

“I wish I had a reason that made sense, but I don’t. The truth is…” you glanced around the office and it became very apparent that the room was decorated more like a legal office than what you assumed an office in a church would be like.

“The truth is?” Rafael prodded.

You stood and started walking around the room. Your hand trailed the spines of the stacks of books lined up. It was then when you spotted the law degree in the corner.

“Wait - you are a lawyer? And a priest? How does that work?”

“Was,” Rafael clarified, before taking a long sip of his drink. “Was a lawyer.”

“You don’t practice anymore?”

“No,” Rafael shook his head. “Not anymore.”

You walked up to the bar cart and poured yourself another drink. You took the chair and pulled it until you were sitting directly in front of Rafael. “Tell me.”

Hours passed. Rafael unloaded everything on you - his time at SVU, baby Drew, the why to choose a life of faith.

And that bottle of Macallan?

You stood very close to Rafael. Your hands pressed on his chest. You swayed slightly and Rafael placed his hands on your hips, steadying you.

“Hire me. I’m really good with numbers.”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “We aren’t going to have sex.”

You scoffed, before almost losing your footing. Rafael’s hands gripped your hips tightly. “Who said anything about us having sex?”

“Do you think I don’t realize what game you’re playing?”

“Game? I’m not playing a game. I need a job.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

You rolled your eyes. “I am not. Besides, do you even know how?”

Rafael pushed you away slightly. “Did you not just hear the story of my life?”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Father.”

“The how?”

You walked back and closed the gap between you and him. “Yeah. The how. To fuck.”

Rafael’s eyes darken. He cupped your face and you leaned into his palm. He slowly walked around and behind you. He dropped his mouth to your ear. “I know how to fuck. I’ve fucked plenty. Men. Women. I know how to make someone come.”

A rumble emanated from Rafael’s chest. You spun on your heels and looked up at him. Rafael loomed over you, your eyes growing wide. Your breath hitched. “Is that so?”

Your faces were inches apart. You were breathing each other's air, growing dizzy over the shared breath. Your heart was thumping and you were so needy in that moment you thought you were going to burst.

“Little lamb, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You let out a whine. “Please.”

Rafael lifted your chin with his finger. Your eyes searched his before settling on his lips. His beautiful pink lips that you knew they knew how to kiss. And lick. And fuck. And make someone come.

“You’re a good priest Father Barba,” you whispered. “But you’re also a good man. And doesn’t a good man deserve a little indulgence every now and then?”

The tension in the room was thick, the air electric. You almost felt moved to tears in the desperate way you wanted him. And he wanted you.

The sound of sirens blaring broke the spell. You both jumped apart. You both stared at each other. Rafael couldn’t help but notice that you were flushed, and that flush was making its way down. You worried your bottom lip.

“It’s late,” you rushed. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.”

You spun on your heels and was about to dash out the door when Rafael gripped your wrist, pausing you in the middle of the door.

You looked back up at him with wide eyes.

“You start Monday,” Rafael gruffed. You nodded, unable to say anything.

You managed to squeak out an ‘okay.’ And before you realized it, the door was shut in your face.

—

Your first week was completely uneventful. As is the next. And the week after. You’re the epitome of well behaved and professional much to Rafael’s relief.

That still didn’t mean he didn’t imagine kissing you and then some. Or how when you leaned over his desk, he didn’t imagine lifting up your skirt and plowing into you. Or that when you chewed on your pen cap, he didn’t imagine his cock between your plump, soft lips.

Under the collar, he still was very much a man.

And you didn’t let him forget it. He lost track of the amount of times he had to get himself off. And still it didn’t nothing to quell the ache for you.

You threw yourself into the work and you actually found it quite fulfilling. You made plenty of friends and found yourself volunteering in other parts of the church - like working at the food pantry or singing as part of the church choir.

Summer ebbed into Fall. The air grew cooler. The days started to grow shorter and the leaves, once a vibrant green, were now tinged with yellow and orange, painting the city in a fiery palette.

You were working in the rectory that morning. When Myra, the arthritic receptionist, ended up in the hospital with pneumonia, you eagerly took over the job. You were busy enough with church duties as it was but it made sense for you to take over.

Utilizing your skills from past work experience, you ended up bringing St. Blaise into the 21st century thanks to Intuit and Microsoft.

Since you started, the more Rafael was able to get to know you. In turn, the more he wanted you. He did everything in his power to not even look at you for too long, at least when you were not not looking. It was hard - but Rafael was a glutton for punishment. Being around you made Rafael addicted.

It did seem as if you heeded his words - you were the utmost professional. You did such a good job that Rafael wondered if maybe he had misread the signals altogether and that one night was just the booze.

Then one particular evening, Rafael saw you walking with Maria, her boyfriend, and another gentleman. He didn’t want to stop and say hi - if anything he wanted to avoid it altogether and cross the street but you and him made eye contact. It would have been too awkward to avoid you by that point. It ended with the five of you at the local watering hole - where this gentleman who had his arm wrapped around you. Rafael didn’t enjoy how jealousy washed over him - he knew he did not have any right to you, or your body. And he would never be - you were never together like that.

You were waiting at the bar, ordering another round when Rafael joined you. You looked over at him and gave a small smile.

“So you’re on date then?”

You looked at him incredulously. “Rafael—“

“You live here, you can go on any dates and with whom.”

“He’s just— you and I— we never…

The bartender arrived with your drinks. You went to pay, but Rafael stopped you. “I got it.”

“Don’t you have to take a vow of poverty?” you asked as you grabbed some of the drinks. Rafael grabbed the remainder and the two of you walked back to the booth.

“One of the most common misconceptions about the Catholic priesthood is that all priests take a vow of poverty. In fact, most do not. Diocesan priests do not even make vows, they make “promises” of obedience to their bishop: chastity and to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Vows, on the other hand, are typically made by members of religious orders, such as Franciscans, Benedictines, Dominicans, etc.”

You nodded. “Got it.”

You walked ahead of Rafael, a sway in your hips as you did so. Rafael’s eyes narrowed and he sucked in a breath as he followed, exhaling slowly.

When your date - Eric - as he later learned - began mouthing off about theology and religion, Rafael rolled his eyes. Still, he wasn’t going to let himself get bested and using the skills he acquired from all the cross examinations he had ever done, basically annihilated the other guy. You snickered behind the glass of your drink but Rafael saw it and felt his chest puff.

At one point - Eric whispered something in your ear. Whatever he said was enough to make you blush and shift in your seat, smiling to yourself like you had a secret. Rafael didn’t miss it at all and he felt himself stiffen and his jaw tighten. Your eyes met once more, and you witnessed the visceral reaction he was having, saw that little flex of his jaw and the way his eyes glittered with something primal and possessive. You could see that part of him would gladly punch Eric, and even as Rafael’s eyes locked with yours, he didn't hide it. Briefly, the kind and generous priest was all gone. Even the smart and sassy lawyer was superseded: you saw the man, capable of lust and jealousy. Over you. The thought of inspiring those feelings in him made heat pool in your body, and you squeezed your thighs together. His eyes registered your expression: you were certain he knew how you felt.

By end of the night, you went to hug him good night but Rafael dodged you. You frowned and bid him adieu as he dipped his head in acknowledgement. Rafael continued to head home - and had he turned around, he would have seen you still standing, watching him.

Another week went by.

The pounding on the door stirred Rafael awake. He looked over at the clock - it was a little after midnight. A breeze blew through, causing a chill to run through his body.

He tugged a t-shirt on and groused that he was on his way.

Rafael was not expecting to see you.

“Father,” you greeted. There was a very large bottle of Macallan in your hand. Your eyes trailed over the very sleepy priest in front of you. His hair was askew and he looked adorable. You swallowed at his tight white shirt and low slung gray sweats.

“What is going on?” Rafael asked. He reached in his pocket for his glasses.

“Fancy a chat about my existential crisis?” You thrusted the bottle of scotch into his arms and walked in, pushing slightly past him.

Rafael got a whiff of your shampoo and it sent all blood straight immediately to his cock. He looks back outside and satisfied not seeing anyone else, closes the door behind him. “Existential crisis?”

“Do you have any glasses?” You ask, ignoring his question, as you look around. You hadn’t ever been inside a priest’s dwelling and you were surprised at how normal it appeared.

“Wow.” You stopped misstep and looked around. “This is not what I expected.”

Rafael rubbed his neck. “Huh? Oh, what did you expect it to look like?”

“I don’t know. More holy? Crosses everywhere. Stacks of bibles? Not something out of an architectural digest - with a kitchen island!”

Rafael laughed. He took the bottle from your hand and walked over to the island where he placed the glasses. “A lot of this is from…” he waved his arm around. “Before.”

“Pre-priest Rafael.” You clarified as you walked over to where he was and took an amber filled glass.

“Yeah,” Rafael replied before taking a long drag of his drink.

You nodded and hummed before taking another sip. “When you were just a man. Who had sex. A lot.”

“I’m still a man.”

“Come on, you know it’s not the same.”

You knew better. You knew you shouldn’t.

What would your friends say, what would they do if they ever find out? What about the congregation and surrounding community?

This was bigger than you, bigger than him. What were you thinking?

But it’s Rafael. Fr. Rafael Barba. Not that it matters - he’s not actually yours. He belongs to God.

But now when he’s staring down at you the way he is right now, teeth catching his full bottom lip, sleep-tousled hair and stormy, smoldering eyes, you can’t help but fall from grace.

“Kiss me.”

“You know we can’t.”

“So? Kiss me anyway.”

“I’m a priest.”

“Kiss me anyway.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Rafael swallowed the remainder of his drink and let out a huff. He pointed a finger toward you. “You…you’re trouble.”

You closed the gap between you and him. The room felt electric. You pressed your hands onto his chest. “So? Kiss me anyway.”

Rafael sucked in a breath. You press yourself even closer, your hips automatically seeking his. Rafael pushed you away gently. “I told you we can’t. I told you I can’t.”

“Why are you denying what’s between us?” Your hands shook as you poured yourself another glass. You turned and leaned against the island. “God made us to be sexual creatures. It’s his design. It’s his idea, his gift to us.”

Rafael sighed in irritation. “Our sexual desires are no surprise to God. He made us, and He gave us a strong sexual desire to enjoy within the proper context.” He pointed to you and then to himself. “This is not the proper context. If I wasn’t a priest, then it would be different. This is real life. What we do has real consequences.”

“If you weren’t a priest,” you murmured. You swallowed the remainder of your drink and slammed it on the island. Warmth flooded your body and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or him or a combination of both. Likely the latter. “Tell me you want me. Tell me I was never imagining things.”

Rafael remained silent.

“You have the right to lose control. I know you think—”

“You don’t know what I think,” Rafael acerbically spat. “And no, I don’t have the right.” He began to pace. “You don’t know the misery I live in when you’re not around.”

“And you think I am not?” you questioned. Your voice wavered and your eyes welled with unshed tears. “It’s never been like this with anyone. Never. I want you. I can’t have you. But please - let me live in the solace that you want me too. That I was never imagining any of it. I am going crazy.”

Rafael paused mid-stride and looked at you. He took a deep breath.

“What’s it gonna be? I am begging you.”

It was like something in him snapped when you said that. Rafael slammed his own drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He walked over and pressed you against the island. You let out a squeak in response. You could feel how hard he was against your belly. He brushed some of your hair back. Your breath hitched and a flush spread along your skin.

“Say it again.”

“Tell me you want me.”

“No - repeat what you said at the end,” he all but growled. You chewed your bottom lip and nodded.

“I beg you.”

“God help me. You beg so prettily,” Rafael murmured. He pulled at you, hands grabbing at hips, lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss. It was over before you could register and you pulled back to look into his eyes. You wrapped your hands on his face and then dove back in, returning the kiss, equally as hard.

The momentum was desperate, frenzied, hands everywhere. You let out a gasp as Rafael backed you against the kitchen island. The scruff of his beard dragged against your skin, his lips working your jaw, your ear, moving down your neck, and you let out a strained moan. You pressed your hips upwards into his, feeling his erection. Rafael had to stop and inhale sharply before resuming his attack on your skin. The tips of his fingers find skin under your shirt, and dig into your flesh. One of your hands is twisted in his shirt, the other grasping the waistband of his sweats as he felt a leg curve around his; it was as if your body functioned in tune to keep him as close as possible.

Rafael’s lips found purchase on the hollow of your neck. You let out a groan as you sagged against him, melting into his embrace. The want was overwhelming.

His hands made way to the front of your jeans and he nimbly undid the button and fly before shoving his large hand down your panties. “So wet for me.”

And you are. You’re so fucking wet, it’s obscene.

The tips of his fingers drag through your slit.

“Fuck,” his teeth scraped along your jaw. “You’re soaking.”

He slid two fingers deep inside of you. You keened wordlessly into his shoulder, biting down on his shoulder to suppress a moan.

“No, no, pretty lamb. Look at me,” Rafael husked, his voice laced with an edge of dominance.

You pulled back and met his gaze. His fingers drove deep up into you, pumping, long and needy. His thumb rubbed against your clit. Your blood is boiling, your body vibrating. You’re close. You know it. He knows it. His fingers continue their momentum, finding that spongey spot inside of you that most folks couldn’t ever find.

The walls of your pussy ripple against his fingers. “Be a good little lamb and come for me.” It was Rafael’s turn to beg. “Be my good girl and give it to me.”

You chanted his name as if it were prayer as you come around his fingers. Your body is abuzz, vibrating. You whine out his name in three syllables as you coat his hand with your arousal. Rafael swallowed your cries as he covered your mouth with his. The kiss, which was initially passionate, slowed in intensity, to just soft, slow licks that almost felt reverent, worshipful. Eventually he pressed his forehead to yours and you both drank in each other’s air, breathing heavily. You whimpered as Rafael removed his fingers from your cunt. You watched him with wide eyes as he slipped his fingers into his mouth. His eyes fluttered close as he let out an appreciative sound.

“Do I taste good, Father?” Your voice was laced with lust.

“My sweet, decadent little lamb,” Rafael complimented. “But we cannot do that again.”

“Do what?” You asked as you pushed him off slightly to give yourself room to drop to the floor. You palmed his cock through his pants, pleased with yourself as he groaned with want and need.

A car backfired and the sound caused you both to startle, effectively ending the spell. Rafael helped you up from the ground. “This cannot happen again.” His voice was firm. And before you could protest any more, you found yourself back outside, the door shutting in your face.

Rafael leaned against the door, his head pounding, his cock aching.

‘You idiot! You shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have given in to your melodic voice and sparkling eyes. You had no business being in his life.

But the crack he left open for you made him believe that he had more to lose now than when he met you at the block party all those moons ago.

He rubbed his face, tired and frustrated. And he went back to bed to once again to take matters in his own hands again. ‘Fuck.’

TBC.

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