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thatesqcrush · 19 days

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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.

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.

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba smut #rafael barba x you #Rafael Barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #Rafael Barba x f reader

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 2 years

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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

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winchesterszvonecek · 7 days

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Prosecutorial Misconduct 18+

// Rafael Barba x Original Character \\

Summary: Rafael Barba never intended to fall for Melanie Dodds, but now that he had... He was slowly beginning to uncover that there may be far more to the rough and tumble Detective than meets the eye.

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist | A03 Link

Chapter 1: An Evening at Forlini’s

Chapter 2: A Regular Friday Morning

Chapter 3: Deputy Chief William Dodds

Chapter 4: Certified Scuba Diver, Melanie Dodds

Chapter 5: A Pretzel, A Pigeon and A Patrol Officer

Chapter 6: A Game of Subway Surfers

Chapter 7: A Long Awaited Reunion

Chapters: 7/? (ongoing - fixated)

Want to see my rambles about this story? #melrambles

Like my work? Consider buying me a coffee!

#rafael barba masterlist #rafael barba x oc #rafael barba fic #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba #raul esparza #law and order svu fic #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

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uncpanda · 1 year

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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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saiilorstars · 1 month

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Ch. 61: What Comes After...

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

"Just be careful. Slow steps, okay?" Montserrat guided Rafael into his apartment.

"I got it," he muttered for the third time since they walked into the building. The only reason he didn't yell is because he physically couldn't do it without bursting his stitches and, well, it was Montserrat. She got lucky on both sides and she knew it.

And she knew it too.

It wasn't like she was doing it entirely on purpose. She was just so ecstatic to have him out of the hospital and on the road to recovery.

"Welcome home," Montserrat said, truly content. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could actually breathe. She had to kiss Rafael on the spot, just to solidify the fact that they were home and together.

Rafael could feel her anxiety. It didn't help his state at all. "You need to relax, Montserrat. Please." He cupped the side of her face. "I'm the one on meds but you're the one freaking out."

"Can you blame me?" Montserrat said, bringing her hands over his shoulder. "You've gone through the ringer these past days."

"I'm good," Rafael insisted. "You might be the one who needs a rest."

Montserrat shook her head. "No, I'm good. I'm just going to head to the precinct to grab some of my stuff and the paperwork piling on my desk. If I can, I'll talk to Olivia about your case—"

"No," said Rafael immediately, "Because I asked you to keep your admittedly nice nose out of it."

Montserrat deadpanned him for a couple seconds before smiling. "Thank you for the backhanded compliment, but I still want to know."

"You are not allowed to know, my dear, because you're my girlfriend. Did you forget that?"

"Nooo, but I can still ask as your girlfriend and not a detective."

"All you do is keep talking and twisting my words and I don't like it."

"Why not? That's literally your job. I'm just learning from you."

"Oh," Rafael laughed very lightly as it still hurt his side, "You're learning from me now?"

"Mhm," nodded Montserrat, beginning to smile as she battled a laugh. "Aren't you proud of me?"

"You are something else," Rafael shook his head at her, simply loving the moment now. He reached a hand over to take Montserrat's hand, using his hold to bring her up to him.

Montserrat had no problem with that. Any chance she had to be close to him was like God's gift. He brought his hand to her cheek, his fingers brushing over her skin.

"Can I ask you something?" Rafael said in the moment.

"Anything at this point," Montserrat blurted, then laughed with a flushed face.

Rafael pulled his hand off her cheek then took one of Montserrat's hands. At first, she basked in their continuing touch. A couple minutes later, she realized he was studying her – her hand.

"What are you—?"

"Have you gone to therapy recently?"

The question came out of nowhere for Montserrat. "What?"

Rafael hated to have to ask her this but just seeing her hands pained him. Her fingers were practically destroyed with how much she'd been picking at her skin. "Montserrat, you know I don't stick my nose into that part of your life. I listen whenever you want to share about those sessions and I'm okay with that, but this…?" He raised her hand between then, moving his fingers around hers to show what he was talking about. "This right here tells me you've been neglecting that – you've been neglecting yourself."

"You're crazy. I just haven't had time recently," Montserrat said, pulling her hand out of his.

"So when is the last time you went?" Rafael asked, making it a point that he would wait to hear her accurate answer.

Montserrat did not like it one bit. He was right. She was so used to him not directly asking her about her therapy sessions, only making it his point to make her aware that he would listen and talk with her about those sessions whenever she wanted to.

"I'll go soon," she said with a shrug.

"'Soon' is not an appointment," Rafael replied, knowing word tricks very well.

"What, you want me to make the call right in front of you or something?"

"I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to," Rafael said, "I think we're way past beating around the bush here. I'm so sorry that my situation made you feel bad enough to do that to yourself."

"Don't say that—"

"I'm saying that you need to take care of yourself. Don't stop for anyone, not even for me."

"You were shot," Montserrat said unusually hard, all shyness and smiles gone. "Don't you stand there and tell me that I shouldn't have stopped doing anything because you don't know what it felt like when I got that call! You don't know what I felt not knowing whether or not you were going to make it!"

"Okay, okay, that's not what I meant," Rafael cut in quickly, seeing Montserrat getting worked up. Ironically, this is exactly what he meant about neglecting herself. She was clearly more anxious than usual, more easily anxious.

"I'm sorry," Montserrat took a long breath. "I'll give you one point because I haven't been sleeping well."

"I figured, but you realize this is very important. It's important to you and it's important to me. Por favor," Rafael cupped her face, "Please, start taking care of yourself again."

The last thing Montserrat wanted to do right now was argue, and especially over something that she knew he was right about. "Okay," she relented, "I-I know I've ignored some things, I'll start focusing again."

"Thank you," Rafael said, pressing a gentle kiss on her lips.

"What if I don't go to the precinct today and instead go to the store to buy some things for dinner?"

"Tempting…" Rafael said, beginning to smile again.

"And then we can turn in early," Montserrat finished, "I think we can both use it."

"Yeah." Rafael at the memory of the stupid hospital bed he was confined in just earlier. He was already a terrible sleeper and that bed was made of bricks. It had to be. "I can go with you—"

"Absolutely not," Montserrat wagged a finger at him. "You want me to take care of myself? I'm going to ask that you do the same. You have stitches and you're on medication, so you're taking it easy. That means no work, no excessive walking and definitely no alcohol."

"Yes, ma'am," Rafael said, giving a mock salute. "Not like I can beat you to the door or cabinets anyways."

Montserrat chuckled. "No you can't," she teased. She was about to give him another kiss when someone knocked on the door. "You expecting anyone?"

"Yeah, because I definitely invited people over in my spectacular condition," Rafael retorted, smirking when Montserrat deadpanned him.

"...you're lucky you're on medication," Montserrat muttered after nearly losing the battle against the urge to smack him. She turned and headed for the door. When she opened it, she found Lucia and Catalina on the other side. "Hi!" Montserrat greeted them slightly louder than planned, completely thrown off guard.

Lucia barely gave an audible greeting. "Hello," she said rather coldly on her way in, which she didn't exactly wait to do.

Montserrat glanced just as Lucia walked past her. "Hi…" She was sure that Lucia either ignored her or walked by too fast (on purpose) to hear it.

"Hola," Catalina said sweetly, in turn. She reached a hand on Montserrat's arm, giving the woman a gentle squeeze. "How are you?"

Something about Catalina just seemed to ease Montserrat's nerves. Montserrat had noticed it these past few days while Rafael was in the hospital. The elder woman was just so sweet and kind — nurturing. Montserrat was very aware of the lack of female nurture in her life but…she just couldn't find it in her to put boundaries. Catalina was not her grandmother nor anything of the sort. She had her own grandmothers, one in Slovakia and the other…in an unknown location.

"How'd you know I was out of the hospital already?" Rafael asked his mother who'd already sat him down on the couch.

"I called the hospital," Lucia replied. She threw a quick, brief glance in Montserrat's direction. "That's the only way I would find out, of course."

Montserrat pursed her lips together. There was the first jab. There were sure to be others on the way.

Rafael glared at his mother. "I just got out an hour ago. Both of us were a little busy to call straight away."

"Mhm," Lucia disregarded the explanation. "Ya comiste? Did you eat already?"

"We just got here," Montserrat said. She helped Catalina come in and saw Lucia giving her a sour smile. After that, Montserrat figured there was no point in talking much. Her voice alone seemed to irritate Lucia.

"Lo sabía, I knew it," Lucia went straight into the kitchen.

"Don't listen to her," Catalina whispered to Montserrat. Of course it was impossible for Montserrat. How could she not listen?

"Mamá," Rafael wanted to go after Lucia but it was such a challenge getting up from the sofa.

"Sit down," Montserrat warned him, knowing what he wanted to do.

"I forgot my bag downstairs," Lucia came out of the kitchen shaking her head. "I'll be right back." Once again, she ignored her son's call. Rafael suspected she was taking advantage of the fact he couldn't keep up with her at the moment. He didn't expect anything else from her.

"Maybe I should go do some grocery shopping right now," Montserrat said, keeping her sigh as quiet as possible. She helped Catalina walk over to the couch, helping her sit down beside Rafael. "I don't think she'll want me around."

"You do not have to run out of here," Rafael told her, reaching towards her arm. "I will talk to her right now and get this fixed."

Montserrat chuckled. "There's nothing to fix here. Your mother hates me. That's my fault. I messed up."

"It's not your fault," Rafael said slowly. His eyes kept flickering down to Montserrat's hands — more precisely her fingers. Another suspicion he had was his mother's role in Montserrat's anxiety levels rising.

"Lucia's always been more hot-headed. No le hagas caso. Don't worry about her," Catalina said, offering another sweet smile towards Montserrat. The latter appreciated it.

"It's fine. I had to go do those errands anyways," Montserrat insisted. "She's probably one of the few people I can trust to take care of you. I'll be back soon, okay?"

It was a sticky situation no matter what Rafael chose to do. He did tell Montserrat to go take care of herself and one of those errands was (hopefully) her taking time to herself. On the other hand, she was now going to use that time to practically run away from his mother.

Montserrat could see the cogs working in head and chuckled. "I'm okay," she reiterated to him, "Call me if anything happens or if you need anything."

Rafael had no choice but to agree. He squeezed Montserrat's hand. Montserrat smiled as he gave a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. It was ridiculous what that one gesture did to her — it was something she missed dearly.

She cupped his face, smiling softly. Certain words wanted to slip out but she bit her tongue to make sure that didn't happen. She settled for placing a simple kiss on his lips. "I'll be back soon," she promised, then straightened up. She looked at Catalina and before she even asked, Catalina knew.

"I'll keep an eye on him."

Montserrat thanked her for it and grabbed her things to go. She had only been gone for a few minutes when Lucia walked back in.

"She left," she said in a musing way, like she'd known that would inevitably happen, and went back to the kitchen. It just irked Rafael more.

As much as it physically pained him, he pulled himself up from the couch (ignoring Catalina's calm warning).

"You don't have anything," Lucia remarked as she went hunting through the cabinets.

"Montserrat actually went to go do some shopping," Rafael said, watching how his mother reacted to the information. Montserrat was being helpful and yet all Lucia did was give a shrug. The verbal response is what got him.

"Not like she'll know what to get." She had just opened up a new cabinet when Rafael slammed it shut. The jab he felt on his side didn't even hurt.

Lucia blinked at the action then very quickly looked at her son. "That was rude. Don't you dare do it again," she warned like only a mother would do. And she had done it plenty of times before.

Still, Rafael planted a hand on the cabinets just as Lucia went to open them again.

"Qué—"

"Stop it," Rafael said sharply. The glare was on command, and brazen. It was the last part that Lucia focused on.

"I don't know who you're talking to like that, much less looking at like that, but it better not be me," she warned. They were like mirror reflections of each other.

"It is you," Rafael confirmed. "Because you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Lucia rolled her eyes. "Y qué quieres que haga? What do you want me to do? Forget about it?"

"You have nothing to 'forget' because you are not a victim here. Leave that for my cases."

"She didn't tell me anything!"

"Because she was a little perturbed with the situation! You can understand that she wasn't thinking about much details in those moments. Truthfully, I wouldn't either! My only focus would be about whether or not she was okay!"

"I am your mother. I have a right to know when you're in a hospital."

"Agreed," nodded Rafael, "Which you did know about when Montserrat had a chance to breathe."

Lucia looked away, obviously not wanting to concede.

"Ya están peleando otra vez?" Catalina walked slowly into the kitchen. "Fighting again."

"I am not arguing, I'm simply telling her to stop treating Montserrat the way she is," Rafael said, "Otherwise, you can forget about coming over."

Lucia gaped. "Qué?"

"My body is literally aching. I'm not going to add more nonsense stress to the situation. I plan on healing from these stitches as quick as possible so I can get back to my pending work so either you get a new attitude or you can't come over."

It was like Lucia had heard blasphemy. "Qué te pasa!?" He'd never spoken to her like that, not even at his angriest.

"No, what's wrong with you?" Rafael responded. "I'm not dealing with that and I'm letting you know beforehand. You're making her feel bad and for nothing."

"I would hardly call this 'nothing'," huffed Lucia. "You were shot. Imagine my reaction to that and then hearing it happened hours before I got the call?"

"Fair enough," Rafael conceded and would only do it for that point. It, of course, didn't mean Lucia had won. "But you're missing the big picture here."

Lucia scoffed. "And what would that be?"

"She made me the priority. She made me her priority." Rafael laughed at the irony (up until it physically hurt him to laugh). "She didn't think about anything else, no one else, except for me. No one's done that in a very long time, or maybe ever…"

"Don't you say that," warned Lucia, crossing her arms. "Of course I would make you my priority. Soy tu madre. I'm your mother, it's a given."

"Then can you please listen to what I'm saying?" Rafael challenged. It was funny how even when he was off the clock, he could still twist words around to suit him.

Lucia hated that. Her eyes narrowed. "Eres un—"

"I don't care what I am, but I will care if you keep being rude to Montserrat. She's going to come back later and if you're still planning on being here, I suggest you change your treatment. This is the only time we're having this conversation." With that, Rafael turned and started walking – with a limp – away.

"Where are you going?" Lucia called after him.

"To shower — I smell like a hospital!"

"You can't—you can't shower! You just got out of the hospital! You have stitches!"

"Watch me!"

"¡Oh por Dios!" Lucia groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration. "I have the most stubborn son in the world."

Catalina smiled wryly. "He gets it from somewhere, right?"

Lucia didn't appreciate the comment. "I don't have time for this."

"Don't even try it," Catalina said when Lucia went after Rafael. "He's doing it and that's that. You have bigger problems to handle."

"Oh, what? Tu tambien me vas hablar de la —"

"Careful," Catalina raised a finger, "He has ears like a hawk."

Lucia scoffed. "So, what? All of a sudden I'm supposed to cater to his caprichos?"

"Esto no es un capricho," Catalina said sharply, "It's not a tantrum we're dealing with. He's not a child anymore. You know him, and if he says something it's real. If you keep this up, he won't talk to you anymore."

"Am I not supposed to be upset!?"

"You can be," nodded Catalina, "But at the same time, what are you so upset about?"

"Did you not hear?"

"Yes, but you did get the call. It doesn't matter when, the fact that Montserrat remembered about us in those moments is touching enough. She's sweet, Lucia," Catalina said, "All the things she's done for us and without even knowing us — you're just going to forget that because of this? Doesn't it seem pointless?"

"I am upset and I shouldn't feel invalidated for it," Lucia insisted, crossing her arms once again.

Catalina shrugged and shook her head. "Well then, deal with the consequences but don't include me in this," she raised a finger, "I like her. She's very different than the last one – remember?"

Lucia's arms uncrossed to dangle on her sides. "Oh c'mon, Yelena wasn't that bad."

"She left Rafael for his best friend," Catalina reminded Lucia of the 'small' detail with a huff. "That alone marks a huge difference, don't you think?"

"Oh, you never liked Yelena anyways." Lucia let out a long sigh. "It's just…ella era mas…" her hands couldn't make a specific gesture to help explain herself, "She understood us. She came from the same place that we did. This one—" she made a pass to the side, "—is from the other side of the world. She doesn't have the same customs, the same values."

"Y para qué le sirvieron los valores a Yelena si de todos modos traicionó a Rafael, hm?" Catalina moved past her daughter, wearing the most disgusted expression she could form. "Yelena had all the same values as us and she still betrayed Rafael. She cast him aside for ambition. At least 'this one', as you call her, bothered to go to the hospital. Bothered to show some tears too."

"Mama," Lucia turned around, frustrated once again.

Catalina smiled proudly knowing what she was doing. She came around the couch and sat down slowly, leaving her cane on the side. "Que? You know what I'm saying is true. Stop being so stubborn already. You're going to lose here. I like Montserrat and I personally can't wait for the day they get married and maybe even a grandchild."

Lucia groaned. "Mamá—!"

"Oh, just one!" Catalina exclaimed, raising a finger in the air. "I'd be fine with just one!"

~ 0 ~

Montserrat knew that she was late coming back. She honestly didn't intend on spending so much time out even if it meant dealing with Lucia's jabs every so often. She knew Rafael perfectly well enough to know that by now, he had done something that he wasn't supposed to do – whether it was exertion or working or something else, she didn't know, but he did something.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said upon coming into the apartment and finding Catalina in the living room. She struggled to close the door with her arms full of bags and a couple folders stuck between her left arm and side. "Turns out I fell a bit more behind than I thought."

Olivia was too kind to tell her that stuff. Montserrat stopped by the precinct to pick up her paperwork and ask (very kindly) if she could work from home. Olivia agreed on the spot and even offered Montserrat some time off. Montserrat refused saying her income couldn't possibly stand more time off and stuck to her paperwork routine.

"Don't worry about it," Catalina smiled kindly at the redhead. "Let me help you."

"Oh God no!" Montserrat exclaimed as soon as Catalina attempted to stand up. "I've got it." She did, however, have to sort of wobble over to the coffee table to let down her papers. They sprawled over the table, making Catalina chuckle. Montserrat sighed. "I swear I'm more collected than this."

"I'm sure you are," Catalina nodded. "But you've been under great duress, haven't you? Taking care of my grandson."

"I—I really haven't...I mean...that was the hospital..." Montserrat set the bags down on the floor beside the table and took a moment to breath in and out. "But nothing a good night sleep won't fix for me." Her eyes swept over the quiet apartment. "Where is he?" She asked suddenly, eyes narrowing.

"In his room, sleeping," Lucia answered as she emerged from the hallway. As much as her presence made Montserrat nervous, Lucia's answer struck Montserrat even more.

"Sleeping?" Montserrat checked the time on her phone. It was too early for Rafael to ever turn in. "Are you sure? I wouldn't put it behind him to stick paperwork under his pillow to do it while we think he's 'sleeping'."

Catalina laughed softly. "You know him so well."

Montserrat bobbed her head. "Learned some of his tricks pretty quickly."

"Don't worry, I checked," Lucia said sternly, though Montserrat swore she saw a ghost of a smile on Lucia's face. "He's not hiding any paperwork in that room."

"...thanks," Montserrat said quietly, clearing her throat. "I'm going to, um, put these things away…" She started picking up the bags she left on the ground, making sure not to spill anything.

"That's a lot of things," remarked Catalina, "What did you buy?"

"Oh, things to eat, things to, I don't know, keep him entertained?"

"Is that scotch?" Lucia recognized the bottle all too well.

Montserrat flushed. "Uh, yeah. It's for me…" she bit her bottom lip, "I figured I'm going to need a glass here and there if I'm going to be arguing wtih Rafael about what he can and can't do."

Catalina laughed again. She looked at Lucia with an 'Didn't I tell you?' expression. Montserrat knew him well.

This time, Lucia had to crack a smile. "That's…that's a fair point. So…you're staying here?"

"Um, well, I mean…yes. I'm going to make sure that he doesn't push it until he's ready," Montserrat said, "I know you're working full time at the school and, well…I want to."

Once again, Catalina glanced at Lucia and mouthed 'See?'

Lucia sighed. "I can do some evenings," she said suddenly.

Montserrat almost spilled what was in a shopping bag. "Huh?"

Lucia made another noise akin to a groan and walked around the couch to help Montserrat with the bags. The redhead was like a statue as Lucia pulled some shopping bags from her wrist. "I can do Wednesdays and Fridays during the evenings. If I know my son, and I like to think that I do, he's going to drive you nuts. You're going to need a break."

Montserrat openly gaped at Lucia. "Umm…"

Lucia started for the kitchen, leaving Montserrat behind to process things.

Montserrat's eyes flickered to Catalina on the couch. The latter made a motion for Montserrat to follow Lucia, and so she did. Whatever was happening didn't involve jabs which was a thousand times better.

Lucia was already putting things away in the cabinets and the fridge. "What are you cooking tonight?"

"What?" Montserrat had absolutely no idea what was happening.

Lucia closed a cabinet and looked at Montserrat. "Look, I'm still upset, but…I'm trying to be appreciative. I…don't think I've really noticed what-what you do for my son."

"Uh, thank you…?" Montserrat still wasn't sure where this conversation would end. She could never know when it came to Lucia, apparently.

Lucia sighed. "Look, how about we try to just keep each other informed about this situation? Maybe I overreacted — of course I won't be getting the first call anymore…" she looked Montserrat over, noticing the light flush on the latter's face. "But could I at least get a call within the same day?"

"Y-yeah," nodded Montserrat, "That seems fair…"

"Well c'mon," Lucia gestured Montserrat to hand over more things from the bags, "If you're going to be here for days straight, you'll have to cook or something. Do you know how?"

"Yeah, of course," Montserrat said, "Just because I didn't have a mother growing up doesn't mean I never learned menial stuff."

"That wasn't my intention," Lucia said, keenly aware of her mistake and genuinely trying to backtrack from it. "Just want to know where to start."

"Start what?" Montserrat eyed the older woman suspiciously.

"Rafael does have favorite dishes. You could try making some of them…?"

"Oh…" Montserrat blinked, "Uh, I mean…are you–are you offering to teach me…?"

Lucia nodded slowly. "Yes, what else?"

"Right…" It took a lot for Montserrat to realize this was actually happening. Once she did, she accepted the offer.

While they finished putting things away, Montserrat asked Lucia for one favor. "I just need someone to come in this Thursday afternoon. I, uh, have an appointment that I really can't cancel."

Lucia nodded. "Yeah, alright. I can leave work early one day."

"Thanks," Montserrat said, still weirded out about this 180 behavior from Lucia. I'll be stupid if I question it. She would just take it and hope that it stayed this way.

#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

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 2 years

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Crumbs to Your Love - Rafael Barba

A/N: Hi, hi! I have been binging SVU again and have been recently obsessed with Crumbl cookies, so voila!

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader Word Count: 1.9k Synopsis: After a breakup, Rafael attempts to get back in the reader’s good graces with cookies.

Never date your coworkers.

When the relationship ends, there’s the awkwardness when you pass each other at your job. There’s the looks from your other coworkers, the ones who want to choose a side. There’s the tension when you have to interact with each other.

But worse of all, there’s the awkward situation when your ex brings in cookies from the place you have been dying to try, and you have no idea how to ask for one.

“He doesn’t even like cookies,” you whispered to your coworker. The two of you were standing in the corner of the kitchen, the bright pink box of Crumbl cookies sitting on the counter, staring you down.

“What?”

“The man doesn’t eat sweets,” you said. “He doesn’t eat. Why the hell would he order a giant box of cookies? And then why would he share it with his coworkers? He hates us.” You were talking in hushed tones, but the other people in the kitchen still gave you a concerned glance. You forced a smile and looked to your friend.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head, “But I doubt he would care if you took a cookie.”

“Please,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“How would he even know what cookie went to who?”

“Who’s to say he doesn’t have this place bugged with cameras.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t--”

“Y/N, Grace.” You turned towards the doorway as Rafael walked in. He gave you a tight lipped smile. “Did you guys have any cookies yet?”

“No, I--”

“We were actually just about to,” Grace said, pushing you gently towards the counter. Rafael smiled at you and you could have sworn you saw something like triumph in his eyes.

You opened the box of cookies and held back a gasp. Six beautiful cookies looked up at you, all cut into fours, with each missing a few pieces. The longer you stared, the more embarrassing this would be, so you quickly reached for the one closest to you: a cookies and cream cookie.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at Rafael quickly. He nodded his head.

“Yeah. You made a good choice, that was my pick, too.”

You gave him a slight smile as you moved past him. You looped Grace’s arm with yours and pulled her out of the room before she could burst out laughing.

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The next week, you were sitting at your desk when Rafael walked into the room. You were a paralegal, and sat in an office with anywhere from three to six other paralegals at a time, but for some reason he chose you.

He walked up to your desk and you reluctantly looked at him.

“How can I help you, Mr. Barba?” you asked. The lines around his eyes seemed to tighten for a moment.

“Just wanted to let you know I brought in more Crumbl.”

“Why?” you asked. He shrugged. He had one arm behind his back and as you looked at him he revealed the box of cookies he held in his hand.

“Want one?”

“Umm, yes.” He opened the box and this time you picked a quarter of the strawberry one.

“Another good pick.”

“Thank you?”

He gave you a strange smile and backed away from your desk. Before he could walk out the door, the rest of the paralegal team surrounded him and took the rest of his cookies.

As you took a bite of the cookie, unable to stifle the slight groan you let out, your eyes locked with Rafael’s as he was leaving. He smirked before leaving the room.

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For the next three weeks, Rafael would bring in Crumbl cookies, and make a specific effort to be there when you selected one. However, this week, most likely busy with a case, you hadn’t even seen a glimpse of him.

You were heading out for your lunch on a Friday when you spotted him again.

“Y/N, hey!” he called, jogging to catch up with you.

“Hi, Rafael.”

“Would you mind helping me with something?”

“I was actually just about to take my lunch—“

“It’s not work related. Well, not really.”

“What then?”

“I was going to run out for Crumbl again. Maybe you’d want to join me? A few of the people from my floor have noticed the empty boxes and instructed me to get more. I could use the extra hands.”

“Carmen was busy?” you asked, stepping out of the courthouse.

“She was. Plus, I’ve noticed how much you like the cookies—“

“Have you?” you asked with a laugh. Rafael smiled sheepishly at you. “Yeah, sure, I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you,” he said, smiling at you, “I’ll make sure you get first pick.”

You walked down the street together and the space between the two of you felt unnatural. You were still side by side but there was a magnet pulling your hands together that the two of you fought insistently. Eventually, you couldn’t resist the temptation and stuck your hands in your pockets.

The cookie shop was only a few blocks down, but in the trip over there, it felt like you had met a completely new person.

The Rafael you had dated had been passionate and caring, but also reserved and hot tempered. The Rafael you walked with was open and considerate, he asked you about your day and he listened intently to your answer. By the time you got to Crumbl, you were so surprised by his behavior that you completely forgot why you had walked with him in the first place.

You walked up to the counter and looked at the cookies on display. Just the smell of this place was overwhelming. It was like you walked into cookie heaven and you never wanted to leave.

“So?”

“So what?” you asked, looking back at Rafael.

“What’s your pick?”

“The cake batter one is calling my name,” you said, “But I want to try them all.” Rafael laughed and stepped in line with you.

“I had no idea that people could take cookies so seriously,” he said, motioning to the long line.

“People love limited things. The cookies are only here for a week, so you have to try them each week. It’s kind of genius.”

“It’s kind of bankrupting me,” he said with a soft smile. You laughed. You didn’t remember laughing as much with him before.

“Why did you even start bringing them in in the first place?”

“A friend recommended them to me.”

“But why share it with all of us?” you asked, stepping up in line. Rafael let out a sigh.

“It has been recently brought to my attention that I can be some what of a uncaring person.”

“What? You?” you asked sarcastically. He gave you a false smile.

“It’s not my intention,” he said, “And if I was that way with you—“

“Oh, Rafael, we don’t have to get into this. We’re fine. You are a little . . . brash. But it’s because you work hard. I wouldn’t say you’re uncaring. I think you care too much about the work you do that you sort of forget that you’re not the only one doing it.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. “That’s why I bring the cookies. I would like to make more of an effort with my coworkers.”

“Well, the cookies are definitely working. Although we may all be getting addicted.”

It was your turn and Rafael walked up and ordered a dozen cookies, twice what he usually does. The employee asked if that would be all, and last minute, he added an extra cake batter cookie.

When your order was ready, Rafael grabbed the boxes and handed you the small one. Inside was the warm cake batter cookie.

“Take it as my thanks for coming with me, and an apology for the way I’ve acted.”

“Rafael, I—“

“It’s just a cookie, Y/N.”

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“What do you think you’re doing?”

Rafael looked up from the casework in front of him to see Grace, another paralegal, storm into his office.

“Uh, how can I help you, Grace?”

“You can stop whatever you’re doing with Y/N.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The cookies, asking her to walk with you, it’s all very obvious that you want her back. You broke her heart once, I’m not going to let you do it again.”

Rafael let out a sigh, looking between her and the open door. “Shut the door.” She gave him a skeptical look but did as he asked. She sat down in front of his desk.

“I made a mistake,” he began. “I messed things up with Y/N. I didn’t bring the cookies in to win her over, but I saw how much she liked them and,” he sighed. “I’m just trying to show her that I’m not the asshole I’ve been.”

“So tell her that,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Tell her you messed up and want another chance and stop stuffing us with cookies. It’s sad.”

“You can leave my office,” he said, standing. A look crossed over his face like she remembered who she was dealing with. “But thank you. I will take that into consideration.”

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“Y/N!”

You looked back up the courthouse steps you had just walked down to see Rafael hustling down them.

“On another Crumbl run?” you asked. He laughed gently.

“No, I was looking for you.”

“Oh.”

“I realize that my attempts to turn your affection with cookies isn’t necessarily working, so I just wanted you to know, that I regret the way things ended with us, and if you’d let me, I would like to take you out again to show you I can change and be the kind of person you deserve.”

You looked at him blankly for a few moments, taking in everything he said. “The cookies were to win my affection?” you asked.

“Yes,” Rafael sighed. You smirked as you tried to fight off a laugh.

“That’s really stupid, but also very cute. I would love to go out with you again, Rafael,” you said.

“Really? Are you free now?”

“I am,” you said with a smile. Rafael took your hand in his and it felt right, like something had locked into place finally. “But this date better include a stop to Crumbl because they have a pumpkin flavored one this week.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fanfiction #svu #svu imagine #svu fanfic #svu fanfiction #reader insert

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yougotthat-write · 5 months

Text

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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sej2020 · 2 years

Text

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

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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bi-bard · 2 years

Text

Family Trip - Rafael Barba Imagine (Law & Order: S.V.U)

Title: Family Trip

Pairing: Rafael Barba X Reader

Word Count: 1,024 words

Warning(s): bad family, bullying, cussing

Summary: (Y/n) just got back from visiting family. However, instead of bringing back funny stories or leftovers from their parents, (Y/n) brings back baggage that no one could see. Baggage that (Y/n) didn't want to acknowledge.

Author's Note: The holidays are rough for a lot of people. If you need a better family for the holidays, then I am happy to be a part of your found family.

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

It wasn't meant to be anything more than an off-handed comment.

I knew that.

That didn't stop my brain from going into fight or flight mode when Rafael made said off-handed comment.

In all honesty, I wasn't sure why Rafael was there. We didn't have anything for him to look at or talk about, but he was standing in the middle of our office.

I had started rambling. I had been reading this new book series. It was new and exciting, so I was talking about it. I knew that sometimes my rambling could be a little intense and hard to follow. I knew that. I should've known that.

"My only problem is that I can't seem to find the last book," I explained, probably talking a mile a minute. "It's pretty popular, but I didn't think that meant that I wasn't going to be able to get my hands on a single copy of the thing. I've checked most of the places around me, but there's one shop- it's between my place and this little coffee shop- that might still have a copy-"

"(Y/n), (Y/n)," Rafael smirked as he held his hand up to mimic telling me to slow down. "Take a breath."

My mouth reacted before my brain could stop it, "Jesus fucking Christ."

I shook my head and looked down for a moment.

"Hey, I was just-"

"You should try letting people enjoy things without being treated like shit," I snapped before he could explain himself.

"Excuse me," Rafael asked. The whole team seemed to freeze.

My jaw clenched. I didn't speak.

"Liv," he turned to her. She had stopped when I snapped at him. "Can we use your office?"

"Be my guest," she nodded.

Rafael looked at me again. I sighed, already regretting my choices as I pushed myself out of my seat and toward the office.

He didn't speak up until he had shut the door to the office, "What the hell?"

"I'm sorry," I ran my hands over my face.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on," he asked.

"I... I just got back from visiting my family," I said. I took a deep breath. I was already yelling at myself for how I had reacted and for talking about this whole thing. "They're... They're just a bit difficult. I get a bit... touchy when I visit them."

Rafael's eyebrows were still furrowed.

"They just make a lot of jokes," I tried to shrug it all off. "Quite a few of them are targeted at me. Whether they're just about shit that I've done or how I look or the things that I like or... whatever. I tend to get a bit defensive."

"I... I didn't mean to-"

"I know," I stopped him, forcing a grin. "I'm just overly sensitive. I know that. Can't learn to take a joke."

I felt the tears in my eyes. I tried to figure out how to subtly blink them away. It must've not worked because Rafael stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me as he tried to shush me before I started sobbing. I wrapped my arms around his torso and closed my eyes.

"I don't mean to be invasive, but this doesn't seem like innocent joking," he muttered to me. "If it's this upsetting... (Y/n), this isn't normal."

"I'm the one that's not normal," I stepped back, rolling my eyes. "I... I just can't get my brain to not take it personally. Either I get defensive and overreact or I shut down and that's still overreacting. I just never learned how to take a joke. It's always been that way."

"(Y/n), no."

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Hey-"

"I have a lot of work to get done," I said. "I'm gonna go clean my face up and get back to it. I'll see you later, Barba."

"Wait-"

"See you later," I repeated before walking out of Liv's office.

I ignored everyone's sad looks. I just continued working. Typing and writing. I answered a call or two. It was the rare occasion where S.V.U didn't feel like it was being left to drown and hopefully take down a few terrible people before we sank completely.

Sonny tried to talk to me a few times. Rollins too. Liv had called me into her office, but I pushed her away. Fin seemed to respect that I needed the space.

I had shut down. I figured it out as soon as I got home. Just like I always had. I had fucked it all up. I thought that I could keep myself together when I was away from my family. That those reactions could just fade away with time. But here I was. Still acting like such a child.

I spent the entire night caught in this cycle of punishing myself. Stuck in my thoughts and insecurities until I finally couldn't force myself to stay awake any longer.

I came back the next day to see something sitting on my desk. It was wrapped in some Christmas wrapping paper. It was just after Thanksgiving. It was probably what was in stock.

"It's from Barba."

I looked at Rollins as she spoke. She had caught me staring at the gift. I furrowed my eyebrows at her. At the idea that Barba felt the need to get me a gift.

"I saw him put it on your desk."

I chuckled.

"Will you open it," she asked. "The curiosity has been killing me."

I scoffed before picking up the gift.

I pulled off the wrapping paper to find a book. On top of the book was a folded piece of paper. I put the paper down on my desk before properly reading the cover of the book. I chuckled.

"What is it?"

"It's the last book in that series that I was talking about," I said, holding it up for her to see. "I... I don't know where he found it."

I grabbed the piece of paper that had been placed on the top.

I grinned a bit at the short note.

You deserve so much better.

Maybe he had a point.

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

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thatesqcrush · 9 days

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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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