#rafael barba doing stuff

[commander----shepard]

Rafael Barba and His Coffee

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gifs by barbabot on tenor

[rafael-barba-doing-things]

Rafael Barba doing things

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Disclaimer: Gifs NOT mine.Found on Pinterest and Google. I only collect them and source when I know who made them.

[hotchswifey]

a little bit shy - rafael barba x reader smut

i wrote this like a year ago and never posted it???????? oml i kept thinking it was unfinished but like it’s 2700 words  😭 😭 😭 😭

 anyways i’m not rewriting it or even rereading it so!!! anyways, this is shitty but it’s mine so it’s fine

warnings: shy!reader, smut, vaginal fingering, reader is a virgin (par hand stuff she’s done with rafael), reader owns a bookstore/cafe, written with an age gap in mind (rafael is like ?? 40?? 45??? reader is like 23/24), rafael is a babe and i love him, your honour, also rafael is a brief man and nobody can convince me otherwise, also like the office spoilers ig??? but nothing major, daddy/papi kink, the reader may have a slight humiliation kink (it’s self-projection babes), also the translation is through google so sorry if it is incorrect!

(word count: 2740)

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You sat on the counter of your café, reading one of Stephen King’s books. You had closed up at 19:00 like you did every day (par Sundays where you closed up at 17:00); however, you had stayed behind in your store, deciding that you would leave when the rain cleared up - which, it hadn’t. You looked at the grandfather clock standing up against the wall - quarter past nine. The time had flown by as you were too engrossed in your book to notice the world outside and join the world written on the pages. You sighed as you jumped off the counter, folding the corner of (what was now) your personal copy of Doctor Sleep, realising that the weather would not get better anytime soon. Grabbing your hoodie (while cursing your past self for not bringing a coat to work), you turned off the lights, ensuring the ovens and such were also turned off. You grabbed your keys, preparing for the harsh weather, before stepping outside (albeit reluctantly). The rain hit your face harshly, the wind almost making breathing impossible, as you made your way quickly (or as quick as the wind would let your body move) down the sidewalk. You should have probably just called an Uber as you got to the corner of the street. But, then again, you had money to return to the shop. You halted on the corner, debating it but rejecting the idea. You were already soaking from being outside for a few minutes, so what were another... 20... to your apartment. It took you about ten seconds to go to Rafael’s apartment. You had only been dating for a couple months, but his place was, at most, ten minutes away from your shop, and you were freezing. You rushed down the sidewalk until you got to his building, standing underneath a roof; you quickly texted him with trembling fingers, asking if he could let you in, figuring he wouldn’t hear your voice on the intercom system due to the wind. The door buzzed open within seconds, which you were highly thankful for, and you made your way to the elevator, which you took to the top floor. Rafael answered the door after you knocked, still in his suit (confirming your suspicion that he had not stopped working even now; you were pretty surprised he was even home, as he was usually spending all his free time in his office). His eyes went wide immediately, taking in your wet form. “Hermosa, wha-” he cut himself off (something you didn’t know he was even capable of doing) as he opened the door wider for you to come in. “You’re soaking,” he said as he reached for the zipper of your hoodie. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you quipped back as you slapped his hands away, grabbing the zipper to try to pull it down, but you couldn’t quite do it with your trembling hands (which were a dangerously dark red). Rafael grabbed it again, slapping your hands away this time, pulling the zipper down and peeling the fabric off your skin as it stuck to you. “What were you thinking?” he looked down at you sternly, causing you to roll your eyes. “Calm down, I’m fine-” “You’re going to get ill,” he interrupted, taking your phone from you and placing it on the coffee table face down (which seemed to be his way of telling you I’m taking this because you are almost vibrating from how cold you are, not because I’m going to look through your phone, Hermosa). “you need a shower.” “I’m fine!” you argued, and Rafael looked at you with a deadpan look. You stared at each other for about ten seconds before you gave in, mumbling quickly, “Fine.” He walked you towards the bathroom as if you didn’t know where it was and opened the door for you. A quick “thank you” later, and you were peeling off the rest of your clothes before figuring out how to turn on the shower. After about a minute (which felt like an eternity, considering you were feeling hypothermic), you grabbed a towel before heading back out to find Rafael putting your hoodie in a washing basket. “Rafael?” he turned around at that, his eyebrows furrowing - he was cute when he was overly concerned. You suddenly became aware that you were naked and blushed heavily, “How- how do you, um, turn the... shower on?” Once he showed you and left the room, you basked in the water, feeling your previously numb fingers returning to life. You were highly aware of how long you were in the shower, not wanting to waste water or heat or anything. As well as the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were only one wall away from Rafael - totally naked. You took his (very expensive looking) shampoo and soap, cleaning yourself and your hair, before turning off the shower and leaving. Only then did you realise that you had no clothes - unless you would put on cold, wet ones. You wrapped the same towel around yourself before sheepishly entering the bathroom. Rafael smiled at you from his seat on his couch, his work abandoned on the dining table, his suit jacket on the back of one of the chairs and his tie looser than when he had answered the door, and a glass of scotch in one hand and the tv playing Netflix. “I don’t- um, I- I don’t have any... clothes,” you stuttered, looking down at your feet and fiddling with the towel. “You can borrow one of my shirts,” he said, as if it was the most casual thing ever, like you two always did this. he got up, pausing (in what looked like) the office (which you had convinced him to watch after it came to your knowledge that he had never watched it), and began to pull out a shirt from his drawer in his bedroom, handing it to you, which you thanked him for, still blushing from your current predicament. He went to leave before you spoke again. “I- I don’t have any-” you stopped talking, blushing too much before you could say ‘panties’. “You don’t mind wearing mine, would you? Because, you see, I don’t have any panties,” You blushed at his bluntness but shook your head to say, “No, I don’t mind. When, in actuality, you did mind, but only because the thought made you feel hot. Like everything else had once you had made your way into his apartment. You were naked. And, now, you were going to wear Rafael’s clothes. He left for you to get dressed; you shut the door, making sure it was locked, before you dropped the towel, pulling on his briefs and shirt. His shirt was white, and as you looked in the mirror, you realised that, yes, he could definitely see your nipples through the shirt. You buttoned three buttons before turning around and checking how much of your ass it covered. Thankfully, it fell to your mid-thigh, and even more, it smelt like him. You exited the bedroom, turning to close the door behind you softly to not disturb Rafael’s Netflix. What you didn’t see, with your back turned, was Rafael staring at you (specifically, your ass) and licking his lips. As you turned back around, you saw him sit forward and place his free hand (the one without scotch in it) on his knee - unbeknownst to you, he was trying to hide his growing member. You smiled at him, which he returned, and joined him on the couch, sitting about a foot away. You were right when you thought he was watching the office. He was currently watching Jim fax Dwight messages from future Dwight. You brought your legs up to your chest, sitting back on the couch. I watched as Jan told Michael that the branch was closing. “Would you like a drink, cariño?” he asked, making his way (very quickly, you noticed) behind the couch, as you watched the TV. You looked up at him, smiling, asking him for some coffee. He kissed you on the forehead, causing you to giggle, and then started on your coffee. But you swore as he turned around that he was... hard? Your eyes widened, and your cheeks grew hot as your head flew forward to stare at the TV. A smile grew on your face, and you tried to hide it multiple times, but you just couldn’t; it was... cute. Rafael was unbelievably cute right now - plus, his ears were pink, which made him look... well, adorable. You made sure he couldn’t see your face as you smiled widely, but you realised you were failing when he said; “What’s happening?” “What?” you turned to him, still smiling. “In Scranton,” he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was, but you weren’t focused on the TV. You were focused on what was going on behind the kitchen counter he was standing behind. “Oh, right, there,” you said, although you were sure you sounded teasing, which you must have because Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean, ángel?” he asked, coming back to join you on the couch, handing you the coffee. He sat closer to you than you had previously sat next to him, not that you minded - you wanted to sit on his lap, not next to him, but you’d settle for this. “Nothing,” you smirked as you glanced at him - his trousers were still tight. Your eyes went wide momentarily, but it was enough for Rafael to notice. “What?” “What?” you sipped your coffee, covering your smile as you looked at him. he narrowed his eyes at you before putting his arm around you, bringing you into his chest. He put the coffee on the table for you, looking down at you as you turned your head completely to look him in the eye. “You’re hiding something.” “Am I, counsellor?” You moved your legs over him, and he pulled you onto his lap, causing you to yelp and him to chuckle, burying his face in your neck, nipping and kissing at your skin. Your cheeks began to burn again as your smile and teasing attitude disappeared, replaced with whimpers and gripping onto the hem of your (or, rather, his) shirt. You did notice, however, that you weren’t exactly on his lap but on his legs. Which meant he thought you hadn’t noticed his... situation. “What are you hiding, cariño?” he began to kiss further down, kissing at your collarbone. You reached down to palm at his slacks, the office still playing in the background. You heard his breath hitch, and his head flew up to look you in the eye. “What are you hiding, counsellor?” you grinned at him, blinking through your lashes. His ears burned, as well as his cheeks, and he looked pretty shocked, too. However, he quickly recovered. He smirked at you, gripping your wrist, causing you to pout. His lips found yours, and you whimpered into his mouth, causing him to smirk again. “I’m not hiding a thing, cariño,” he said against your mouth, moving your hand back down to his bulge. He hummed against your mouth as you squeezed him lightly. His hand gripped your thigh, the other resting on your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You whined into his lips, putting your hand, not playing with his bulge, on top of the one on your thigh. “Please, Rafael,” you whimpered. His hand on your thigh began to creep up your leg, coming up to the waistband of your briefs before slipping inside. That was new. Sure, you had done things with Raf before, but he was always very... slow. He just wanted to ensure you were completely comfortable with what was happening, but now? Seeing you in his shirt? His fingers teased your entrance momentarily before he gathered your slick and began rubbing at your clit with steady circles. Your hand immediately gripped his wrist, your fingers not even managing to close around his arm. Your back arched, your tits pressed against him, and pathetic whines fell from your lips. His lips were attacking your neck and collarbone, marking you. “Oh, god,” you whimpered out, his fingers beginning to speed up, his other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you against him. Your fingers, the ones not around his arm, gripped his waistcoat. His rubbing sent impulses up and down your body, your vocal cords working on their own accord and your limbs twitching. “Please, oh, god,” his fingers and mouth were the only things you could focus on, and the rest of the world fell away. You were becoming incoherent with your words, that much you were aware of, as you mumbled out, ‘please’s and ‘fuck’s. You were pretty amazed you had stayed coherent for that long, considering that you were usually a mumbling mess of a woman who couldn’t make eye contact or stop blushing when he touched any part of your skin. You brought his face up from your neck, wanting to kiss his scotch-flavoured lips. The passionate kiss did not stop you from whimpering against him or prevent you from moving his hand away from your clit and towards your entrance. "estás tan necesitado, ¿no es así, cariño?" his tone was teasing, though you had no idea what he was saying. You moaned as his fingers edged around your entrance, and you dropped your head into his neck to hide the growing blush, your eyes fluttering shut. Your hips bucked as best they could in the position you were in. You whined when he took his fingers away from you; however, after he had moved you onto his lap (and, therefore, on top of his hard-on), his fingers continued their previous actions. He sunk one finger into your heat, causing your hold on his vest to tighten and your other to clench as you lifted it, trying to decide what to do. Your legs fell wider as Rafael curled his fingers into your sweet spot (and, of course, he knew exactly where that was, despite only having done this a couple of times). “Please, Rafael,” your voice was heavily muffled by the fact that you were pressing your face against his neck. Still, he must have heard you because he added another finger into you, rubbing against your sweet spot with two fingers whilst his palm ground against your clit. “please, papi,” you mumbled out, causing Rafael to stutter in his pleasing ministrations and his cock to twitch. You immediately seized up, your eyes flying open against his neck. However, Rafael’s fingers continued without hesitation, his other hand moving to your ass and squeezing it, pulling you more towards him. He hummed against the side of your head. “Papi, cariño?” your cheeks flushed, the embarrassment of the situation catching up on you. Your hold on his vest tightened, and you were sure you were seconds away from tearing it. You whimpered against his skin, the humiliation only contributing to your impending orgasm. Rafael smirked down at you, loving how you looked, squirming and whimpering on his lap. he loved that you were shy. You were adorable when you were blushing and stumbling over your words whilst you looked everywhere but him. When you called him Papa? he almost groaned aloud. He could feel you pulsing around his fingers, your legs spasming and back arching. Taking his hand away from your ass (and slightly lifting one of his legs to not make you fall), he unbuttoned your shirt, kneading one of your breasts. Your whimpers turned into moans, gradually increasing in volume and frequency. “That’s it, Hermosa, cum on papi’s fingers."

[rafaslittleboy]

MASTERLIST

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

I would also recommend not interacting if there’s things that trigger you. I write these because of the things and trauma I’ve personally been through and it’s how I cope.

life of the party (ft. rafael barba) —your first hookup at a family and friends small gathering get-together just happens to be your uncle sonny’s mentor. *

a hand to hold mine — being held hostage by one of the men that your big brother met during an undercover sting brings out confessions and new emotions. *

PROWL — your father’s relationship with your mom was already rocky to begin with, and when you get him to confine with you why he’s been so low lately; you offer him some help. *

blurbs:

dad!sonny feral fucking *

step-sibling! Sonny and a cramped closet breeding *

big bro! sonny getting you on BC so he can cum in you *

relative! sonny making out with you in a closet

big bro! sonny smoking after a rough fuck *

dad! sonny + raf anon ask *

would dad! sonny get caught with you? anon ask *

would bro! sonny get you pregnant? anon ask

dad! sonny dicking you down in amandas bed anon ask *

big bro hcs *

blurbs:

single dad! rafa + pussy eating *

dad! raf + sonny anon ask *

raf grooming + nonconning reader anon ask *

coming soon

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what I write:

incest, step-incest, abusive relationships, cnc, non con, grooming relationships, legal age gaps, murder, kidnapping etc. (if there’s something that’s not ok the list that you’d like to request, request it anyway and if I’m comfortable writing it I will!)

what I DONT write:

underage, stuff or anything involving minors/any sort of pedophillia, Piss, Scat, Snuff, beastality, full on DDLG (I write my reader inserts as mature and they act their age). this list will be updated.

* = smut

[vivaciousoceans]

My UPDATED Law & Order: SVU A.D.A ranking:

Last time my criteria was 1) Whatever ADA I could remember and 2) Who ever I liked more. This time I’m going to be a little more objective (just barely). I will be judging off of 1) Tenure 2) Conviction Rate 3) Likeability and 4) Legacy, not in any particular order of importance.

15: Michael Cutter - He was from the mother show which I didn’t watch, and he’s very unmemorable in SVU because he only appeared in 4 episodes. I do remember him only getting moved to Sex Crimes as a punishment for lying about having a bachelors degree to both the DA’s office and the New York bar, but of course he didn’t get disbarred.

14: Sherri West - She was a decent prosecutor, she never did anything explicitly wrong. She just wasn’t particularly memorable, except for the fact that she stopped being a prosecutor in order to have more money for her "shoe fetish", which is just odd, in my opinion. She only appeared in 4 episodes as and ADA, so that’s why she gets second to last place.

13: Mikka Von - She was so fine I wish I could put her higher. She only appeared in one episode, but she won her case by being crafty. Her little flirtation with Fin was cute, Fin deserves some eye candy after dealing with the tension between Benson and Stabler for years. I wish she’d gotten a few more episodes to really cement a legacy for herself, but alas.

12: Kim Greylek - If she had appeared in more than 13 episodes, I would be willing to put her higher because she had the makings of a great A.D.A. She had the experience working with abused women, she was tough, but she wasn’t likeable in the slightest. I think she felt like she had to be this ball buster because of what happened to Casey after working with SVU, but she was just rude. She even threw shade at Casey, which was just not a good look.

11: David Haden - The dilf who chose his job over a relationship with Olivia Benson. He was like one of the finest men Liv allowed herself to date, and he broke it off with her for a job he resigned from a year later. The only reason he isn’t lower is because he was a decent attorney. He only appeared in 4 episodes though.

10: Peter Stone - Where do I start with Peter? Well 1) He tried to convict Rafael Barba, 2) He tried to play daddy to Noah, and 3) He plagiarized Barba’s whole exit after only knowing Liv for what? Two years? He wasn’t a bad lawyer, he was actually decent, he just went through a lot of personal stuff, and he wasn’t as willing as other ADA’s to do what needed to be done in a unit like SVU. I’m reserving the right to be biased towards him, despite everything he went through.

9: Abbie Carmichael - She was also from the mother show, which again I didn’t watch. She’s only this high because she didn’t do anything egregious, worked well with the detectives, and Angie Harmon is pretty. She only appeared in 4 episodes.

8: Jo Marlowe - Stablers ex-partner, played by the incomparable Sharon Stone. Part of the reason she is so high is because of her legacy, she just came in and had such a strong backstory which we don’t get a lot for ADA’s. She also alluded to having an affair with Elliot, which makes me especially happy because I don’t like Elliot. She was only in 4 episodes, but she delivered in every scene.

7: Gillian Hardwicke - I didn’t put her on my last ranking list which was just an oversight on my part. She was a really good prosecutor, and that wasn’t easy for the cases she tried. She had a 92% conviction rate and kept being handed cases that were complicated. Her empathy for the victims, and her drive for justice was refreshing. I enjoyed her short, 10 episode long run.

6: Sonya Paxton - I am a Sonya Paxton stan. She had her issues, with alcoholism, being a pain in the ass, but she wasn’t afraid to go toe to toe with Elliot Stabler. I hated her death, I wish she would’ve had more than 7 episodes, but I truly think that dying so a victim could receive justice, was the best send off for her character. That’s a legacy that can’t be easily forgotten, which is why she’s so high.

5: Dominick Carisi Jr. - Detective Sonny was my sweet baby angel, but I haven’t watched many seasons where he was ADA, and what I did watch left much to be desired. That being said, his experience at SVU, combined with his mentorship from Rafael Barba, makes him an empathetic prosecutor with great courtroom presence.

4: Elizabeth Donnelly - Coming in at number 4, Liz is a force to be reckoned with. She mentored Alex Cabot and to a certain extent Casey Novak. She fought her way to the top after experiencing a major setback as a woman attorney, that could’ve very easily ruined her career. She was empathetic when she needed to be, tougher when she didn’t need to be. She was a great supervisor and her legacy can’t be forgotten.

3: Alexandra Cabot - Her legacy, her conviction rate, her likeablity, her chemistry with the detectives, none of it can be denied. She was the first permanent ADA and is still a fan favorite for many. She’s strong in her convictions, she’s strong in her values, even if that means bending the law to get true justice. Alex just is that girl in all areas of life, and the only reason she’s at number 3 is because she leaned on her nepotism a little.

2: Rafael Barba - A feminist icon, a political landmine, and the smuggest ADA to exist. He took the cases that no one would touch with a 10-foot pole, and even if he didn’t win them, he made a difference. If he was a real lawyer, he would be studied for his impact on case law. He is very theatrical in court, especially when it comes to cross examinations, he is a shark when it comes to closing statements. He was the longest serving ADA SVU ever had and that takes big brass ego. He knew the law like the back of his hand, and talked a mile a minute, what more could you want? The only reason he’s number 2 is because of his conviction rate.

1: Casey Novak - She was insane, unhinged and insane. There’s no other way to describe her run as a prosecutor. She took on major political cases only to seek justice. She went after a sitting judge, the US Military, and pharmaceutical companies. She was empathetic and sympathetic when she felt like she wasn’t on the side of justice. She had no qualms throwing cases where she knew her win would be the opposite of justice, and she risked disbarment to get justice for a victim. I can truly say she deserves this number 1 spot because of her conviction rate, her legacy, tenure, and likeability.

[i-got-ur-nose]

Two Slow Dancers (Last Ones Out)

Rafael Barba x Reader

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a hospital setting, everything is very vague tho lmao

(this is a vent LMFAO)

((sorry not sorry <3))

She could smell the bourbon on his breath when he let her in. Her eyes tracked the way that his jaw clenched and then unclenched— something he did to calm himself down whenever he was on the brink of losing his composure.

This time was different though.

It wasn’t some insolent witness that was just getting on his nerves or a criminal that was too difficult for even him to handle. No. This was different. It was her that was causing him to act like this.

Only she could rile him up in such a way that he was itching to break something. Her and her eyes. Stoic and masked— he loathed to love her eyes.

“You promised that this guy wasn’t going to walk.” she reminded evenly. Rafael scoffed, meeting her gaze with a very specific kind of annoyance.

“Would you like to become the Assistant District Attorney and see for yourself what it is I have to do everyday?” The venom in his voice was clear as day.

“You promised—”

“I know what I promised.” He hissed, bristling anger she had already been trying to stuff down.

“If you would just—”

“Why so you can make me feel worse about myself?” Her mouth dropped open, face radiating nothing but heat.

“You promised—”

“Sometimes promises can’t be kept!” He shouted, cutting her off. The volume of his voice had grown to something that she had never heard before. Her eyes drifted from his screwed shut ones and down to his hands. The tremors were visible from where she sat.

Without saying a single word, she stood up from the leather chair he kept in the corner of his office and glided to the space right in front of his desk.

Right in front of him.

He still had his head down, his shoulders so tense that she was sure he was going to turn to stone. A knot formed in the middle of her chest, threatening to choke her from the inside out. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.

“You,” He said roughly before taking a deep breath a meeting her eyes. The watery green almost knocking the wind out of her. “You are the single most important thing to me in the world.” His breathing was coming out harder than before. “Nothing else.” He waved a hand in front of his body, the other still holding him up over his desk.

“I-”

“Please let me finish.” He cuts her off again. She swallows thickly, but nonetheless nods for him to continue.

“I messed up. I got too close— too personal.” He admits. “When I saw him, all I saw was you in th-the hospital and I…” He breaks himself away from the train of thought forcefully.

“I fucked it and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. But I swear to God, hermosa…” the nickname springs tears to her eyes. “The second the chance is mine, I’ll take it. He’ll never see the light of day again.”

She nods, trying to blink back the tears.

“Can I go now?” She tries to quirk a half-assed smile. Rafael huffs a dry laugh but nods.

“You promised me that he wouldn’t walk.” She started off and Raf looked like he had just been kicked in the gut. “But that means nothing if you aren’t by my side.” She was glad that she was able to get that out before the tears that she had tried so hard to keep down fought their way down her face.

Rafael crossed to her in two strides, crushing her in a hug that could have fed her for a thousand years. One of his hands cradled her neck so carefully into his shoulder, while the other was wrapped firmly around her waist.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He whispered into her ear, softly kissing her temple over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”

She held his face in between her hands and smiled sadly, but not a single ounce not loving. A single tear made its way from Rafael’s eye and down his cheek. She brushed it away, kissing the skin that it had touched. They were going to be okay.

[winchesterszvonecek]

Prosecutorial Misconduct 18+

Chapter 1 - An Evening at Forlini’s

Word Count: 6489

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

When Detective Melanie Dodds entered the quiet establishment of Forlini’s, the first, and only, person that caught her eye was ADA Rafael Barba. He was by himself. His perfectly tailored blazer now gone from his body as he sat perched on a stool about halfway down the bar, nursing a single glass of scotch in one hand and flicking through a thick manila folder with the other. 

It made her frown, seeing him with his nose buried so deep in another case when they’d only just put their most recent one to rest. Melanie always told him he needed to slow down. That he needed to stop pushing himself so hard, but he never listened. And granted, neither did she when anyone would tell her the same anytime she got so wrapped up in a case that she forgot to eat or drink, but at least she knew when to shut off when said case finally came to a close — which was more than could be said for Barba. 

Nevertheless, Melanie took her time in approaching him, opting to drink in the sight of him sitting there for as long as she possibly could before she annoyed him by snatching away his file. His hair was slightly tousled. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing the slight tan to his muscular forearms that sat atop the bar where his stuff resided. Even the top two buttons on his shirt were undone, his silk tie absent from its usual place around his neck and no doubt shoved lazily into the pocket of his briefcase. 

Melanie would never admit it aloud to anyone, her partner included, but she’d always found Barba attractive. From the way he presented himself, with that scheming smirk he displayed so frequently in court and that cocky strut of his when he walked. To his usually perfect hair and many tailored suits that Melanie just happened to be a sucker for, it all made him utterly delectable for a woman like her. And oftentimes, she never could get him out of her mind. 

“Detective, are you planning on joining me?” Barba called towards her, pulling Melanie out of the trance she’d fallen into over seeing him with his hair down, so to speak. “Or do you need another few minutes to… ogle me?” 

She knew that sentence was a joke on his part, but Melanie’s face still reddened and given the otherwise pale complexion of her skin tone it was highly noticeable. Barba said nothing though, whether he chose to deliberately spare her the embarrassment of being caught staring or whether he had simply chalked her sudden blush up to the change in temperature from her entering the bar, Melanie had no idea. But she prayed for the latter.

With a flustered clear of her throat, Melanie stepped closer to him, “You would be so lucky as to have me ogle you.” 

“Lucky's not exactly the word I would use.” Barba retorted quietly, glancing to his side to fire Melanie a playful smile — which earned him a gentle punch to the arm as she glared at him. 

The two of them had always had a flirtatious-banter-like relationship. Ever since Melanie witnessed Barba be literally choked with his own belt in court, she’d never once let it go and he was more than happy to play along. He enjoyed seeing her smile when he did, and he wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he liked her. Their interactions were the sole highlight of his boring days, and if playing along meant he got to keep them, then so be it. He’d even continue to take Carisi’s relentless teasing about the two of them being like an old married couple, as just the idea of that… warmed his heart something terribly. 

“Careful counsellor, I could have you arrested for slander,” Melanie fired back, rounding his stool to take the one on his right without the need for an invite, as no matter the circumstances she was always welcome to sit with him. 

“I’d be out in no time…” Barba replied, bringing his glass to his lips before taking a deliberately slow sip. “Insufficient evidence… They’d have no grounds to hold me.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Melanie murmured, hearing Barba chuckle faintly into his near empty glass as she motioned for the bartender’s attention. “Could I please get a tequila? Neat. And a refill for my friend here.”

The bartender nodded, then went to grab their drinks. 

“Tequila, huh?” Barba questioned, a lick of worry rolling off his tongue as he put his folder away and swivelled on his stool to face her. But Melanie ignored him, and instead continued to stare absently at the rows of bottles that sat behind the bar. Thus, he waited, until the bartender returned with their drinks and it wasn’t until Melanie had taken her first sip of tequila, did he speak again — keeping his tone as casual as could be as he knew Melanie hated getting all touchy feely, as she so often put it. “I saw you talking to your dad earlier, outside the courthouse. It seemed… intense.” 

Melanie scoffed and downed her drink, easily, in one swift mouthful, “Everything to do with my father is intense. Including his ideology on how I should present myself within the department, which he made very clear when he reamed me out for standing up at that press conference.” 

At that, Barba said nothing. He had nothing, as he already knew well about her fathers feelings on that particular subject. Chief Dodds had made them exponentially clear to him when he stormed into his office afterwards, practically seething with rage over seeing Melanie on TV, standing by Barba’s side after he explicitly told her not to get herself involved. 

Barba wouldn’t lie, at that moment he’d actually felt a touch of fear in his chest when Dodds threw his door open so hard it almost shattered. He half expected the Chief to hit him the second he entered for dragging Melanie into things, but to his surprise all he did was grit his teeth and — not so much threaten — but strongly advise him what would happen if he dragged his daughter down with him. 

Going after social services had been a risky move, Barba knew that from the get go. He knew he’d need as much help as he could get, and when Melanie offered him hers? Well, feelings or no feelings, he wasn’t exactly about to say no. She was the best help he could ever ask for, and it was because of her testimony alone that the grand jury decided to indict the social workers who indirectly caused the death of little Keisha Houston.

After all, Melanie had been the one to find Keisha, locked in that puppy cage. Starving. Dehydrated, and when she told that jury… When her eyes began to glisten with tears and she painted the picture of what they did to that little girl, Barba knew he had won. He always did when Melanie was involved, and no threat to his job by her overbearing police chief father was ever going to stop him from seeking it whenever the opportunity presented itself. 

“You know, I sometimes think he just does all this as a way to try and get me to leave SVU,” Melanie continued, pulling Barba out of the depths of his mind and throwing him right back into reality — where his heart sank to the floor at the very notion of her leaving. “He’s always wanted me to start working my way up the chain of command. I can’t even count the amount of times he’s stopped by my house to check in on me… Only for me to find an application for the sergeant’s exam sitting on my coffee table when he left.” 

“That’s not something you’re interested in?” Barba asked curiously. 

Melanie shook her head, “It’s hard enough being a female detective with a rocky history and a deputy chief father, I don’t need to add an extra case of nepotism to that pile by trying to move myself up the chain of command.” 

“That’s a shame,” Barba sighed, causing Melanie to shift in her seat to finally face him, just in time to see his lips twitch upwards into an openly amused smile. “I’d have quite liked to hear Carisi have to call you Sergeant.”

At that thought, Melanie let out a gentle laugh — a sound so sweet that Barba almost melted where he sat. He went to open his mouth again, to ask another question in order to keep the topic of conversation going, but like every other time he’d tried to chip away at Melanie’s secretive outer shell, he was interrupted. Her phone had started ringing from within the pocket of her signature leather jacket, causing them both to sigh quietly, of which Barba’s went entirely unheard.

With a muttered excuse me, Melanie dropped her hand to the gap between their bodies and began to fumble around in the deep space in which her phone was buried. She pulled it out, keeping it suspended by her waist as her eyes fell to the dimly lit screen below, where her stomach sank beyond the surface of the floor the second she saw who was calling her.

“Do you need to take that?” Barba asked, unable to stop his own eyes from drifting curiously towards the name that lit up the small space between them. He wondered who Mikey was, and why, instead of answering his call like he expected, all Melanie seemed to do in that moment was reach up to the silver necklace that was always present around her neck — hanging from which was a small DNA charm that sat perfectly between her collarbones and always made him smile at the irony. “Melanie?” 

A few more seconds passed during which she still didn’t reply. Nor did she pick up the phone which continued to ring, with the face of an unfamiliar man still openly displayed on the screen that Melanie’s thumb hovered shakily over. She drew it slowly towards the green of the answer button, where it lingered for a couple seconds longer. But then, before Barba could excuse himself to allow her some privacy, it diverted straight to red and tapped decline with much more force than necessary.

“Sorry, it uh, it’s nothing,” Melanie shook her head softly, flashing a partially forced and apologetic smile Barba’s way as she silenced the phone, placing it back into the safety of her pocket. “All good.” 

“Good,” Barba murmured, sceptically. He knew well enough that everything was not all good , and that something was clearly bothering her. However, he also knew Melanie. He knew when to carry on and when to let things go, and by the way her shoulders stiffened over that phone call as she ordered another drink — a double, this time — he could easily tell it was time for the latter. 

Therefore he stayed quiet. Instead, he simply continued to gaze at her, his eyes lingering on the oaky tone of her own that glistened in the ambient light of the bar. He wondered how long it had been since she last closed them. Her eyelids seemed heavy. Her pale complexion and lack of make-up showed off the dark circles beneath her lashes more prominently than usual, and each time she blinked Barba doubted that she’d even be able to open them again. 

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked worriedly. And it only increased when Melanie’s eyes darted instantly away from him and towards her freshly poured drink, which she swirled gently before raising to her lips. “Or ate something for that matter?” 

“I had a sandwich at the station earlier,” Melanie replied, her brow creasing as she took a slow sip of her tequila. She could feel the harsh burn of it run down her throat and land in her stomach. Her seemingly empty stomach, as it soon gurgled faintly at the mention of food — Perhaps that sandwich hadn’t been today after all. “I mean, I think I did… What day is it?”  

“Melanie,” Barba scolded, his lips pressing into a tight line as he frowned at her. What was it with SVU detectives and their complete inability to look after themselves? “You need to start taking better care of yourself.” 

Melanie scoffed into her glass, “You sound exactly like Carisi.”

“Well, for once he’s right,” Barba agreed, watching as Melanie’s eyebrows lifted slowly over the rim of her glass as she took another slow sip. He didn’t usually like to agree with Carisi, but in this case he made some rather excellent points. “I’ll deny that if you ever tell him but he is right, Melanie. I know you like to look out for your victims, but you need to start looking out for yourself first.” 

Melanie pressed the rim of her glass firmly against her lips before lowering it. Then, she sighed. Barba was right. She did need to start taking care of herself, but the only thing was… She didn’t know how. She wore herself thin even during the most cut and dry cases, but you throw an incident of child abuse in there and she was as good as gone — which is exactly what Carisi had told her earlier that day when she turned down sharing his pizza. 

Well, he told her that in his own way, that is. He often expressed his concerns far less politely than Barba in that he told her bluntly that she looked like she had both feet in the grave. But she rarely listened to him. He did it far too often for his own good and besides, no one else in the squad ever said anything. They probably never noticed it, and if they did, they didn’t find it concerning enough to bother bringing up to her directly. 

But Barba did. He always did, and he was a man known for running solely on excessive amounts of caffeine, so if he was telling her that she needed to slow down… then perhaps she really, truly needed to slow down.

“Come on, let me buy you dinner,” Barba said, cocking his head in the general direction of the few empty tables that hugged the wall behind them. He then slid off his seat, hitting the wooden floor beneath with a soft thud as he grabbed his blazer that lay draped across the empty stool beside him. He folded it neatly over his arm then picked up his briefcase before turning to Melanie, holding out his hand where her hesitant eyes dropped to instantly as she began to pick at the chipped black polish that he never saw her nails without. “Don’t make me subpoena you.” 

The hope that riddled Barba’s emerald green eyes as he stared patiently into her own wrapped around Melanie’s chest like a rope, making her unable to say no to him as she simply couldn’t take having to see it diminish should she tell him the truth. That she wasn’t hungry, and probably wouldn’t be until late evening tomorrow as she never could eat during cases involving children as they always made her sick to the deepest pit of her stomach. 

But no one else knew that. Not Carisi. Not Liv. And certainly not Barba. She hadn’t told them yet. She didn’t know if she ever would. Or if she ever could, so she certainly wasn’t about to break out the confessional over something as silly as not wanting to eat tonight. There’d been plenty of other times where she’d felt forced to eat a sandwich or a bag of chips just to stave off suspicion from her co-workers, so a plate of pasta and some breadsticks wouldn’t exactly be a tough challenge. 

With that in mind and a half-forced smile rising on her face, Melanie reached out her hand and clasped it with Barba’s. It was cold, like he’d have guessed. And not just from the rings that always littered her slender fingers, but from her very skin itself. It was like ice. He could almost feel it tremble, even beneath the warmth of his touch, which told him there may be more to what’s been bothering her than she was truly letting on. But he said nothing. He’d gotten her to agree to dinner, and that was a miraculous win as it is, so he didn’t want to make her close herself off by asking more questions whose answers were of no concern to him.

Therefore, all he did was return her smile, help her off her stool and lead her happily towards a small table that sat tucked away in the corner. As they reached it, Barba’s hand fell reluctantly from hers. He set his briefcase aside then quickly draped his blazer over his seat before retreating a few steps back in order to pull out hers. Only, he didn’t even get the chance to feel the chair beneath his fingertips before Melanie stopped him, her hand latching itself tightly onto his forearm in an attempt to keep him in place.

“Actually, do you mind if I sit there?” Melanie asked, nodding towards the seat he’d picked for himself that sat pressed up against the back wall of the establishment. “I just… I have this thing… About sitting with my back to the door.” 

And just like that, things in Barba’s mind clicked instantly into place. It made sense, now that he thought about it — now that she’d said it. He’d never noticed it before but Melanie always did seem to favour sitting places where she could easily see each and every exit. In his office she’d always pick the couch over his desk, and when sitting at his round table with victims and whatnot, she’d always pick the seat next to the window — and if that wasn’t available she’d choose to stand, with her back pressed tightly up against the wall and her eyes fixed on the door. 

It was the same in interrogation. No one ever could get her to sit down when questioning suspects as both sides of the tables had doors behind them. Even her work desk faced the public entrance of the bullpen. And even though there was plenty of empty space and even the break room in the distance behind her, she still had Carisi sitting directly in front of her. Not to mention Rollins and Fin sitting just off to her right, which more than likely made her feel safe from whatever it was that had brought on this apparent fear. 

“Of course, whatever makes you comfortable,” Barba said softly, and with a reassuring smile. He pulled his arm back and grabbed his blazer then shuffled past her, happily taking a seat in the opposite chair as Melanie settled herself in hers. “If you don’t mind me asking, is that a cop thing…? Or a you thing?”

“Little of both, I guess… I just don’t like surprises,” Melanie exhaled tiredly, shrugging her shoulders out of her jacket and placing it lazily over the back of her chair. She didn’t elaborate any further when she turned back around. She didn’t want to either, and Barba clearly picked up on that by her lack of eye contact as he quickly dropped the topic of conversation. 

Instead he picked up their menus and handed one to Melanie, hearing her soft thanks as she took it from his grasp and flicked it open. They remained silent until they ordered. Barba had put a few seconds of thought into his, in that he picked something he wanted. Whereas Melanie ordered the first thing her eyes landed on as she was too tired to actually read over the menu. 

“So,” Barba began hesitantly, drawing Melanie’s attention up and away from the long sleeves of her t-shirt that seemed to be more interesting than he was. He didn’t take it to heart, though. She’d had a long week. She was tired. No doubt hungry, and deep down he knew that she was happy to be here with him. He just needed to coax it out a little first. “A detective… What’s that like?” 

Melanie’s eyes narrowed, “You want to know what it’s like… being a detective?” 

Weird. Barba wasn’t usually into small talk, let alone small talk about the theatrics of being a detective. 

“Why not?” Barba shrugged, taking a sip of his scotch as he tried to play himself off as nothing but curious over the profession. Which granted, he was a little, but really he just wanted to know about her . And this seemed as good a place to start as any. “You always ask me what being an ADA is like, why can’t I reciprocate?” 

“I mean… No offence, but I usually ask that in more of a " how do you sleep at night" kinda way, not a vaguely curious about the job kinda way,” Melanie confessed. She only ever asked him that when she was pissed at him. 

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Barba admitted, and if he seemed offended by that statement, he didn’t outwardly showcase it. “But still, humour me… Catching bad guys. Is it everything you dreamed it would be?” 

“No, not really,” Melanie replied, and Barba’s eyes widened in surprise as he always got the impression that she loved what she did. “I always wanted to be a cop when I was a kid. Well, except when I was seven and spent the entire year wanting to be Ariel from the little mermaid.” 

At that thought, Barba let out a soft chuckle as he allowed his gaze to cast over the entirety of the natural beauty that was Melanie’s face. He tried picturing how different she might look with bright red hair flowing around those delicate features, rather than the darkness of the jet black locks that were splayed out messily over her shoulders. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t see it. He was just too enthralled by the perfect version of her that sat before him, that his mind didn’t seem to want to allow any other variation of her to enter it. 

“Once I got over that though, I always knew I’d be a cop. My brother and I, we used to steal my dad’s NYPD shirts all the time and go around the house pretending to arrest people,” Melanie continued, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she absently reached up for her necklace, her fingers drawing slowly over the short swirls of the DNA charm that hung there. “It drove my mom crazy, but my dad he… He always used to say that the department wouldn’t know what hit it when Mikey and I joined.” 

“Mikey… That’s your brother?” Barba asked carefully, watching as Melanie’s motions of tracing her necklace came to a slow stop. 

“My twin brother,” Melanie corrected quietly, dropping her hand back down to the table as Barba’s eyebrows raised. He never would have guessed she was a twin. 

“Twins… I heard that’s quite the bond,” Barba said, sipping on his scotch as Melanie lightly rolled her eyes and huffed quietly to herself. “Or not… Did something happen?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Melanie snapped, in a tone harsher than she ever would have liked to have aimed in his direction. Immediately after she picked up her glass, downing the entirety of her drink in one go as Barba did nothing but roll his lips. She set her glass back down, dropping her eyes to the table and closing them, in order to purposely miss seeing the look that flashed across his face at that moment. 

But it was pointless. She didn’t need to be looking at him to know it was there. To know that he was hurt, as she could sense it. She could always sense it and it pained her to know that she was the sole cause of it this time. She could already feel the thick tension that seemed to be forming in the air between them and the longer Barba remained silent, the more the regret built in her stomach over bringing Mike into things. He always was a touchy topic, but she couldn’t blame Barba for being curious as she was well aware that she was a closed book when it came to her personal life. He was only trying to get to know her, and honestly… that only made things feel about a hundred times worse. 

“I’m sorry,” Melanie whispered, opening her eyes and slowly drawing them back up to meet him. “That was… That was uncalled for.”  

“Hey, don’t worry about it, okay. I get it. Family can be tough.” Barba said assuringly, resisting the urge to reach across the table and take her hand. “But just so you know… If you ever do want to talk about it, I’m here.” 

A sweet smile crept across Melanie’s face, “I know. And thank you… You’re a good friend.” 

Friend. She might as well have just ripped Barba’s heart right out of his chest and stomped on it. Sure, he always knew they’d never be anything more than friends. After all, they worked together. It would be highly unprofessional and morally unethical to be anything more. Not to mention the near ten-year age gap between them. 

Or the fact that Melanie’s father pretty much hated him already — that was all he really needed to know that the status of their relationship would never change in his favour. It was carved into stone at this point and he’d made his peace with that a while ago. But still… hearing her say the word friend out loud? When he was all but in love with her? Well, it wasn’t exactly easy on his mind. 

Or his heart. 

“As an ADA I don’t have a lot of those,” Barba confessed, breaking Melanie’s heart as he did. “So I try my best to keep the ones I do.” 

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Melanie assured him, “No matter what you do, or how much you annoy me,” — meant playfully, of course — “you’re stuck with me.” 

“I guess I better try harder then,” Barba joked.

Melanie chuckled, “Bring it on, counsellor. I’ve put up with Carisi for this long without killing him, so you better bring your A game.” 

“It’s the only game I know,” Barba replied a touch breathlessly, taking a sip of his scotch whilst continuing to gaze at Melanie over the rim of his glass. He watched as she glanced at some of the artwork on the wall to her left, tucking a thick curl behind her ear which showcased the three silver hoops that bordered her lobe in order of size, the largest of which had a tiny sword hanging from it. 

Fascinated, his eyes continued to trail along the curve of her ear, passing a small snake stud that sat in the crook in the middle before coming to land on the thick silver bar that sat diagonally just above it. On one end was a small metal fletching and on the other a partially rounded point, creating the illusion of a miniature arrow having pierced right through the top of her ear. He’d never noticed it before — or rather, he’d never seen it. And the more he thought about it, the more he came to realise that Melanie had almost always worn her hair down on the days he had seen her as he’d liked to think he’d have remembered the pin board that was once her ear. 

The two of them really couldn’t be more different if they tried, yet Melanie still seemed to have her hooks dug deep into him. It didn’t matter to him that they were nothing alike, both in personality and in style, Barba still liked her. He always had ever since the day he first saw the real Melanie. The one who he’d wondered had ever really existed as in all the time he’d known her, he never once thought she had a soul that wasn’t as dark as the hair on her head. 

Most days it seemed like she only had two consistent moods — gruff and cold. But then one day, during the case of Avery Jordan, when Melanie had personally driven Avery to the airport in order for her to flee the country so she didn’t have to undergo the ridiculous visitation rights with her rapist, Barba had finally gotten a true peak behind the curtain that was Melanie Dodds. 

Before, he’d found her annoyingly stubborn and bad-tempered. He’d seen her as nothing more than a detective who thought she was untouchable given who her father was, but when he found out that she’d risked her own career for a woman she barely knew? That’s when things changed in his mind and ever since then, he’d been completely and utterly hooked on her. 

Due to that, when dinner arrived, Barba kept the conversation flowing. He asked her basic things, like what she liked to do in her spare time, to which she replied with something he never would have seen coming — that she played online video games with Fin any chance they could get. From first person shooter games to calming farming games, they played the lot and to be honest Barba wasn’t sure who he was more shocked over hearing that about. 

After that he kept going. He asked her about her favourite movie — Jaws. He asked if she had any favourite places she liked to go in the city and he was rather surprised to find out she had such a deep love for the aquarium. That she’d sit there for hours simply watching the sea life swimming carefree around her, and not finding it at all scary when the sharks would loom hauntingly over her — which he guessed wasn’t actually that surprising given his newfound knowledge of her favourite movie. 

He then went on to more… personal questions, you could say, in that he finally asked what it was really like being partnered with Carisi — which Melanie had chuckled at given the plainly obvious humour that had unintentionally come out alongside that question. She knew well that her partner irritated him at times with his far-out theories and refresher courses on the law — Barba’s words, not hers — but despite that, Barba had seemed genuinely interested, and so she gave him nothing but a truthful answer.

That Carisi was a great partner. 

And yes, sometimes he could ramble on about how society was growing closer to inevitably collapsing, and when it came to chasing perps it was often left up to her as Carisi was too tall and too skinny that any time one of them turned a sharp corner, he’d almost lose his balance and go flying into any nearby objects (which Barba found greatly amusing when she told him and would never be letting go), but he was still the best partner she’d ever had.

Sure, Amaro had been great and she missed him terribly but the two of them clashed way more often than they would have liked. They were too similar, and Amaro was too angry, but with Carisi it was like they flowed together perfectly and she couldn’t ask for a more trustworthy partner — all of which she happily told Barba when he asked for more details, part of him almost wishing he hadn’t as he wouldn’t deny… He felt a little jealous of Carisi. And he’d be denying that if he somehow ever found out. 

“Law lessons aside, Sonny is great. He puts up with me and my bullshit,” Melanie carried on, using her fork to break off a small piece of their remaining chocolate cake. They’d gotten a slice to share after dinner, yet she hadn’t seemed to notice that Barba’s cutlery was still clean. “He knows how I like my coffee. My preferred stakeout snacks and music… That’s all I can ask for, really.” 

“If you ask me, the guy deserves a medal,” Barba mumbled jokingly, ignoring the pit in his stomach as he earned himself a tight glare from Melanie, who then reached out and gently nudged his leg with her foot in retaliation before finishing off the last of the chocolate cake.

By the time they left Forlini’s and stepped out into the cool summer’s evening, Melanie was feeling better than she had done in weeks. And it was all thanks to Barba. He’d gone out of his way to make her feel comfortable enough to let her guard down long enough to enjoy a nice dinner. With some rather pleasant company, as she wouldn’t lie, despite his quirks and their witty banter, she’d always thought Barba was all business all the time. 

But tonight she’d been proven wrong. 

Tonight he’d been different. He hadn’t been Barba, the reputable ADA who always seemed like he had his life together. No, tonight he’d been Rafael, the man who’d grown up as a scrawny kid in the Bronx and knew firsthand just how hard life could truly get. 

“You know, I, uh…” Melanie began, taking a deep breath of that warm summer’s air that engulfed her. “I really needed that. It’s been such a crazy few weeks and I guess I just…” 

“Forgot that you’re human too?” Barba finished for her, and Melanie nodded sheepishly. He didn’t give anything in response to that other than a gentle smile, as he didn’t think the subject called for much more speculation. Instead, he placed his hand on her forearm and gave it a light, comforting squeeze before cocking his head to the side, “Come on, let me walk you home.” 

“You’ve done enough for one night,” Melanie protested, “You don’t need to do anything else.” 

“I know I don’t need to,” Barba replied, reluctantly dropping his hand and allowing it to hang loosely by his side as it twitched to reach back out and lace itself with hers. “But I want to. And besides, what kind of man would I be if I let a pretty, slightly intoxicated woman like you walk home alone through this neighbourhood?” 

“I’m the one with the badge and gun here, counsellor,” Melanie said humorously, patting her hip and ignoring the way her stomach flipped over hearing him call her pretty. “And last I checked, crime rates in this neighbourhood are at an all time low.” 

“Irrelevant,” Barba replied, briefly waving his hand in front of him as though brushing that off. “My mother would be disgraced to find out I let you walk home alone, regardless of your profession, so let’s go.” 

Holding out his arm, Barba’s eyes continuously flicked from the grey fabric that covered it to the indecipherable look that was plastered over Melanie’s face. He always hated the fact that he never could tell what she was thinking most of the time. It made it nearly impossible for him to ever know whether or not there was some part of her that might feel the same way about him as he did about her. Truthfully, it grated on him, even now, but when she eventually smiled and gave in, that feeling quickly faded away. Replaced with nothing but pure and utter warmth in his chest when she linked her arm with his and happily allowed him to begin walking her down the block.  

They remained silent for the most part, simply choosing to enjoy each other’s quiet company rather than feel the need to fill it with mindless small talk. It wasn’t an overly long journey to Melanie’s place anyway, and soon enough Barba felt the disappointing feeling of her arm slip from around his as they came to the bottom step of her townhouse — which he was rather surprised to find out she lived in as she’d always struck him as a loft apartment kind of girl. 

“Well, this is me,” Melanie exhaled, nodding lazily to her house as she spun to face Barba properly, where a sudden awkwardness seemed to sweep over the entirety of her being. She couldn’t help but feel like she was at the end of a date, where she never knew whether to invite the guy inside or leave him stewing on the sidewalk wondering whether or not he’d ever see her again. “Thanks for getting me here safely.” 

Smiling at the slight humour in her tone, Barba replied, “You’re welcome.” 

“So, I guess I‘ll probably see you tomorrow,” Melanie said rather hopefully, backing up one step towards her house and praying she didn’t trip and end up embarrassing herself.

“It’s likely,” Barba nodded briefly, “I have some paperwork to go over with Liv, so I’m sure I’ll see you in the squad room.”  

At that Melanie gave him a single, smiling nod of her own before wishing him a soft and quiet goodnight. One that almost made his heart weep when he then had to see her turn fully on her heels and ascend the steps to her front door. Wanting to make sure she got inside safely, he lingered, watching as she fumbled for her keys and began to unlock the strangely numerous locks she had on her door. 

When it finally creaked open he made his move to leave, the shiny silver rims of the black motorbike parked adjacent from Melanie’s house catching his eye as he did. He pondered the idea of it being hers. It matched her personality to a tee and he could almost imagine her cruising smoothly down the streets at night, the wind blowing through her luscious locks as if he knew her, she wouldn’t haven’t ruined her look with a helmet.  

That’s about all had time to think about before he suddenly heard the soft pats of Melanie’s feet mixed with the gentle jingle of the chain that hung from her jeans coming back down the cement steps of her brownstone. He spun on his heels instantly, finding that Melanie was already close enough to him that he could reach out and touch her. His mouth opened, words sitting on the tip of his tongue only he didn’t get a chance to free them before she leaned in, placing a soft, heartwarming kiss to his cheek. 

Almost instantly, Barba’s stomach flipped inside him at the sudden feeling of her lips on his skin. They were soft to the touch. A surprisingly higher temperature than the rest of her and when she parted them a sharp, shuddering shiver rippled up his spine at her breath puffing out across his face as she whispered,  

“Thank you.” 

The words didn’t even have time to settle in the air before she was gone from in front of him again, leaving Barba to do nothing but stand breathlessly on the sidewalk and watch as the front door of the brownstone finally swung shut… with Melanie securely behind it. 

-> Chapter 2

[noellawrites]

How would you describe the SVU guys as yanderes? You’re definitely inspiring me to write and I want to make a dark/yandere series of my own. :))

a/n: great question! and thank you, it means a lot to know i’ve inspired you <3 if you ever do write or post something let me know bc i’d love to read it! ❤️

The SVU Men As Yanderes

warnings: yandere stuff, domestic violence, bullying, obsession, violence, breeding/pregnancy mention

Nick Amaro is highly jealous and possessive. he’ll throw hands if someone even looks at you the wrong way, and chances are you’ll have to bail him out of jail. good luck getting away from him, he’ll rarely let you out of his sight. he text bombs you all the time when you’re apart, too. domestic issues would probably include him screaming in your face, grabbing you and leaving bruises and throwing shit (not necessarily at you). he’s scary so you’d better stay in line.

Rafael Barba is manipulative and mean. he can easily outsmart you and he wants you to know that, too. he makes you feel dumb and useless, like you need him to even function. he finds joy in belittling you and hurting you, especially verbally. making fun of your clothes, teasing you for using a word wrong. he’s trying to subtly train you, make sure you’ll be well-behaved for him at fancy events and galas. he will strike you across the face or kick you down if he thinks it will make you behave.

Sonny Carisi is obsessive and overly-affectionate. he sees no problems with love-bombing you, tracking your whereabouts and making everything in your life his business. he can be strict and mean when he thinks you’ve tried to trick him or betray him. he will also yell in your face and occasionally slam you into the wall and tower over you if it’ll get you to listen. he also has the biggest breeding/pregnancy kink ever (Italian Catholic w/big family) so get ready to have like 5 kids.

Mike Dodds is protective and controlling. he has no qualms about using his power as a Sergeant or his father’s reputation to control you or scare you into submission. he wants you to be perfect for him at all times and he’s obsessed with being able to take care of you. he likes to think of you as his little doll, pliant while allowing him to bathe you, dress you and mark you up. he loves seeing his bruises on your skin, it’s just another way to control you.

[daddydoddsjr]

What would be the worst minor thing about being in a relationship with the SVU people? Not things like: "issues with healthy communication" or "married to the job"; stuff like: "eats in bed", "doesn't do laundry until they're down to 1 sock", "puts empty cartons back in the fridge".

Sonny Carisi

Uses things entirely and puts them back where they were

Like he’ll use the last of the milk or soap and puts the bottles back where they were

He says it’s to remind him to get more later

The problem is that he never tells you, so you want cereal in the morning? Sorry, only a single drop of milk left.

Rafael Barba

Unresponsive during the day and usually late to come home

Sure, he’s working, but he will also just forget to return calls or return texts during breaks

Says he’ll be home by 7? More like 9. Maybe it’s work, maybe he stopped for a drink after and forgot what time it was

Olivia Benson

You will constantly be interrupted

Dinner? Only 45 minutes in until she has to leave

Coffee date? You’re only halfway through the cup until she’s out the café door

Intamacy? Good luck. Her phones going to buzz on the table and you’ll both know what’s about to happen

Fin Tutuola

Likes to play his video games and music extremely loud

Like you can’t even think kind of loud

Also he’s pretty bad at doing the dishes

Definitely let’s them pile up until he literally has nothing to eat with so you’ll most likely do 100% of the dishes

Amanda Rollins

Dealing with her family is definitely an inconvenience

Her mother, her sister (y’all already know)

You’re also going to find long blonde hairs on every surface

If you’re not living together, you’ll still find them in your own home in random places and you’ll have no idea how they even got there

[saiilorstars]

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.

[adarafaelbarba]

Hello, could you write anything that your awesome heart desires about Rafael Barba? He is my go to comfort character and I am doing really annoying work stuff today.

An: I’m so embarrassed at the fact that I never got this out. I’m so sorry 🫣❤️ School and work kinda got in the way for my creativity for a while 🫣❤️

Besides visiting his mom or having a drink on his hard days, Rafael loves going to see you. He won’t tell you, but you’re his favorite person, and he feels he can come to you for anything, no matter what.

So that’s where he found himself this evening, laying on your couch, relaxing as you made dinner for the two of you. As soon as he had appeared at your door, you told him to go lay down, that dinner still needed a minute.

“Stay awake for me Rafael, you need a good meal.” You murmured, caressing hair out of his face then cupping his cheek.

He hummed at that, looking up at you where you sat on the edge of the couch, just by his waist. “I wouldn’t mind just going straight to bed.”

That made you chuckle, and you leant over to kiss his forehead, “Stay awake a little longer, and then I’ll let you sleep.”

There was no arguing you, he knew that. Didn’t stop him from trying though. But with one simple look, he stopped himself, instead turning his head to press a soft kiss in the palm of your hand.

After dinner he’s quick to pull you in for a hug, and a soft kiss, thanking you for taking such good care of him.“Of course, Rafa, you would’ve done the same for me.” You simply state, smiling at him and kissing him again. 

~~~

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[stefanmikaleson1864]

Let's Play

Genre: smut

Paring: female Reader x Rafael Barba, Dominick Carisi Jr and Michael Cutter

Idea: reader is a criminal and has been arrested for a serious crime now she has to go to court and could go to prison for life. Her solution is to seduce the Executive Ada (cutter) and his Adas (Barba & Carisi) in their office to get a deal so she doesn't have to go to prison

Requested by: @villains-are-hot

A/N: Thank you so much for sitcking with me and i really hope you enjoy this piece !

Y/N’s POV 

Jail is the fucking worst. It’s not what they present on TV at all it’s hard and rough and not a place that someone like me belongs.

This whole innocent or guilty thing doesn’t apply anymore. It’s never about whether you did the crime or not it’s about how you can get out of it. 

That’s something i’ve always been good at finding my way out of things. It’s because of my looks honestly. I take a lot of time working on myself. Eating the right things and not moe procedural work and hair and nails. I bake out in the sun and tan and i make sure i look like a barbie doll. 

It’s worked for me my entire life. Being able to walk through any situation and work or perhaps flirt my way out of the situation. I mean why else would you work so hard if you weren’t going to use it to your advantage. 

Right now you were currently sitting in the district attorneys room.

You were currently out on bond and your very old but very expensive lawyer was convincing you to take a deal. You a deal ?? Like hell you would. 

Okay maybe i should start at the top with everything. I’m not the devil in this case okay.

My ex boyfriend was stalking me and was harassing me all the time. He wouldn’t leave me alone and i thought something bad was going to happen.

He was breaking into my apartment and leaving letters and sending me pictures polaroids of myself while i was out and about.

I tried to tell people but no one listened. Expect Bobby that is. He told me not to worry about it. 

I didn’t ask any questions and when Matt ended up dead I didn’t think to go around telling anyone. I was more relieved than anything. 

But when your ex ends up dead of course your name comes in the investigation.

Then when Bobby got offered a sweetheart deal he took it in a heartbeat and told everyone you asked him to do it. 

Which was absolutely crazy. I mean sure you weren’t complaining when he died but you never asked for the man to be murdered. I’m innocent in all of this really. 

Right now you were sitting in the courtroom while all these delicious men were debating on what to do with you.

Your lawyer had stepped out for a moment not that you were complaining though because this situation is everything you wanted. 

They all were a little older than you, but silver foxes were the best they have knowledge they knew what they were doing. 

“Come on just go easy she clearly didn’t know what she was doing” The tall italian one said. He was clearly an ex cop you can tell a man like him he knew how to use handcuffs. 

“Absolutely not she knew what she was doing was wrong she set into the motion the events of a mans murder”  The shorter man with brownish hair yelled. 

“Come on gentleman why are we even wasting our time with this the jury is going to convict her and our hands will be washed” the shorter more angrier man said. 

You sat up straight in your chair. Your back was stretched, your girls were out and proud. You “accidently” knocked over a coffee cup with a tiny bit of coffee. 

“Opps i’m sorry gentlemen” You said smiling and laughing. 

The taller man got up and cleaned up the mess and you could see him look up at you. Your eyes meant with him and you flashed a smile down at him. It was clearly working he wasn’t looking away. 

“All finished now with what ever this was” the shorter man said. 

The taller man got up and threw the stuff away in the bin. 

“What’s your name” You asked in a flirty voice 

“Dominic Carisi, everyone just calls me Carisi” He said in a more nervous tone 

“What the hell am i watching” The shorter man yelled. 

“And who might you be” You said leaning on the table and the man looked at you with a disbelief look in his eyes. 

“Michael Cutter and that’s Mr Cutter to you” He said in a more stern voice. 

“Well so nice to meet you” You said

“And you, who might you be last but not certainly least” You said batting your eyes and moving around a little bit to show off your assets. 

“Rafel Baraba” He said in a monotone showing he wasn’t even that interested. 

You reached out your hand and you took his in yours and have it a nice squeeze. He didn’t let go right away which surprised you then he snatched in a matter of seconds and played it off. 

Carisi was looking at you out of the corner of his eye and it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

He looked somewhat jealous but also irritated. Like what was running through his mind. Either way it seemed like a good opportunity for you to run it through. 

So you looked away from Barba and looked back him. His piercing blue eyes taking a look at yours.

You leaned in and he just sat there a moment not moving either. 

It felt like there was a moment going on there and you took his hand and brought it up to your lips and gave him a kiss on the hand. 

“Whoa okay don’t do what” Carisi yelled. 

“Come on police officer you liked it” You said 

“It’s ADA and no I didn’t” he said 

You turned your back and looked at the shorter man who was leaning against the wall just kind of looking at you. 

“And what about you I know you like it to don’t you” You said running your tongue against your lips. 

“No absolutely not” Barba said in a mototone 

You gotten up from your seat and walked over to Cutter who was now sitting at the table and looking more and more over this.

You sat down on the empty seat next to him and placed your hand on top of his. 

He looked at you and he got a look on his face where he was both appalled at what ever was going on and he also looked intrigued too. 

You knew you could pull him out he was acting tough but was he also really that tough you thought to yourself. 

You leaned in and you got closer to his face. He just kind of looked you in the eyes and he quickly looked down at your lips. 

“Come on you know this isn’t on me” You whispered quietly and grabbed his tie and played with it. 

“All i know is  your a criminal” he whispered back 

You just smirked and played cool you would never let the upper hand slip away.

"Maybe take a girl out before you judge her" You said.

He just looked at you with a mischevious look on his face like he was debating on taking you up on the offer.

You got up and walked over to Barba and he looked a little more annoyed than usual with you. You just stood up straight girls were showing curves were popping off. 

“What about you you know what they say the biggest surprises come in small packages” You said putting your hand on the wall over top of him and looking down at him. 

He seemed into it like he was hiding it just like the rest of them. They all knew they wanted it but they couldn’t have it. Was it because they wanted you or they wanted they knew what they couldn’t have. 

You didn't forget about carisi though you knew he was going to be the one to come through in the end. you had him so close you just needed to nail it in.

That’s what it was a lot of the times with the men you dated. Was it because they had an illiouson of something else. 

You decided now was the time to get what you wanted you played them like you needed. They all were leaning towards you they didn’t want to admit it but they all secretly wish they had you. 

You walked over to where you were sitting. And this time you let your body fall loose. You wanted to look more simpler more sad 

You looked over at Carisi with a more soft tone then you ever had. You were begging him with your eyes.

"Mr Carisi please listen to me that's all I asked" You told him

"I can't talk without your lawyer" He said in a soft voice which means you had him

“Wheres my lawyer” You asked

“Why your not going anywhere anytime soon” Cutter said. 

You worked your face up to look sad and more worried. 

“I need to get out of here” You said

You looked more irritated and more like something was bothering you. 

“I know what you all may think okay I’m not heartless i really didn’t know what he was going to do okay. I would never wish anyone dead” You said. 

You let your tears roll down your face something you were good at. 

You quickly wiped them away and it worked with everyone. They all softened their tones and sat down. 

“Listen let us get your lawyer we can help you” Carisi said. 

“How”  You asked in a soft tone. 

Barba walked into the hallway to gesture your lawyer to come back. After a few seconds he did. 

You all were sitting down at the table and looking at each other. You were playing with your fingers something you did to help make it like you were nervous. 

“How about we offer criminally neglect homicide 2-4” Barba said 

“No way she was a victim” Your lawyer said. 

“I was scared and worried all the time okay he wouldn’t leave me alone he was going to kill me” You said in a soft scared tone.

“You willing to testify” Cutter asked. 

“Yes anything” You said. 

“FIne were drop charges for the testimony” Barba said. 

“Thank you lets go” Your lawyer said. 

You got up and left before they could change their mind. As you were walking out you looked back at the guys. 

You put your signature smile on them 

“This was fun boys” You said leaving the room giving them a little wave. 

You walked out the room and was laughing to yourself. You knew damn well you weren’t going to Jail not never. 

[kayyybenson]

How You Met - SVU Gang

Olivia, Alex, and Amanda are mother AU because I personally would love to have one of them be my mother

Sonny Carisi:

    Ironically, you used to be a lawyer. You came from a rich family that always pushed you to do your best and moved from Boston to New York after secretly attending the police academy behind your parents' backs.

    I walked into the squad room, Liv had told me ahead of time that there were some changes but I wasn't expecting a whole new seating arrangement. "Y/N, I know you and Amanda work harmoniously together but we have a new guy so you're going to break him in." She gestured towards the man sitting across from my desk. I placed my stuff down and sat, ignoring him. I wasn't trying to be rude I just had a lot of paperwork to do

    "Nice to meet you, I'm Dominick Carisi Jr. but you can just call me Sonny." He stretched his long arm across the desk and I shook it.

    "Y/N L/N. I'm guessing you're my new partner, I'm happy to be working with you, Sonny."

Nick Amaro:

    You met him at the same time Amanda met him when he walked into the squad room with a full beard. Funny thing, you moved to New York long before Amanda, you were getting tired of Kim's shit. 

    "When are you going to stop bringing new people in?" Liv asked Cragen, it was almost like she wanted to be fired.

    "When you get over Elliot. Look at Y/N, she's recovering well." Cregen pointed at me.

    "I'm only doing well because Amanda is here. I'm telling you she can read my thoughts." I whispered the last part, earning a smack on the back of the head.

    "Well don't hate me for this, I'm partnering you with a Narcotics transfer, and Amanda, you'll be with Fin."

    "Jesus Christ, another one? Was Fin, not enough?" 

    "That was uncalled for." Fin jokingly glared as the elevator opened.

    "Oh wow," I mumbled when I saw my new partner I walked up to him and introduced myself. "I'm Y/N Rollins, you must be the narcotics transfer."

    "Is it that obvious?" I nodded and he chucked. "Nick Amaro,"

    "Careful Amaro, your new partner has a bad temper." Amanda chuckled when Nick turned to you shocked.

Rafael Barba:

    You were an elementary school teacher, first grade specifically. You met Rafael when one of your student's parents raped you for giving their kid a bad grade on a test. 

    "You know I'll never be able to return to my job after this, right?" I frowned and looked at the SVU captain.

    "Well, not at that school. But maybe another school would take you." The door opened and a man in a suit came in. 

    "Ms. L/N? I'm Rafael Barba, the ADA." 

    "Nice to meet you." I scooted away, scared he would touch me.

    "Now, I understand what happened to you, so let's win this. Yeah? Tell me what happened."

    "Well, I had requested for this parent to come in for a conference because his daughter was failing all her tests, he agreed and when he was in my classroom he pinned me against the wall and raped me, he kept saying 'no one fails my daughter, this is your fault'." 

    "Well, we got enough from the rape kit to arrest him, we just need a positive ID from you." I nodded, anything to but this perv away.

Olivia Benson:

    You were found in a pimp house that the squad infiltrated, and you were around 5 years old. Your mother pimped women out to "Give them better lives"

    "Everybody get down!" I heard a voice yell, and people started rushing in and pushing people down. I quickly ran to the corner of the room, trying to escape the chaos. A woman came up to me and crouched down to my height.

    "Hi sweetie, my name is Olivia, what's yours?"

    "Y-Y/N."

    "Nice to meet you Y/N. Don't worry, you're safe now." They brought me to a hospital to check me out, and once they were done they sat me in a room with toys, No one else was there though, it was just me, in a room, all alone. I decided to draw with some crayons. The door opened and the same women from before came in and sat across from me. "Hi Y/N, do you remember me?" 

    "Yeah, you're Olivia, you arrested my mommy." I continued working on my drawing.

    "Do you know why I arrested your mommy?" 

    "Because she sold women. I was next. She said I was going to a nice man named Josh."

    "Well, you're not anymore. What are you drawing?"

    "Me and Josh. Mommy had us meet, and said I had to be broken in."

    "Sweetie, did they make you do something you didn't want to do?" I rapidly nodded.

    "Something was shoved inside of me, I said it hurt and to stop, but they didn't."

Amanda Rollins:

Amanda adopted you in Georgia, after a case that involved your older sister. You were waiting in a room in the hospital for your 'new mother'

    "Hey honey, how are you holding up?" I recognized the woman, she asked me questions about my sister,

    "Good." I made one of my Barbies hit the other one.

    "Your doll says otherwise."

    "She's fine, just a bruise." I colored a purple mark on her forehead. "If she doesn't recover I'll have a nice burial for her."

    "....Okay... Let's go home, okay?" 

Alex Cabot:

    You were the daughter of a rapist, he would use you to lure women in, they would come to babysit you then he would pull them into the bedroom. You were a main witness in the trial, going against the person who gave you food and shelter.

    "Okay, are you sure you can do this?" Detective Benson rubbed my back, we were in the hallway, waiting for Detective Stabler to come to get me to testify.

    "Yeah-yeah totally." The door opened and we were motioned to come in. "No turning back now."

    "The people call Y/N Hewwitt to the stand." I took a deep breath and sat down, bad enough that I was testifying against my own father but the crowd staring at me just made it so much worse. "How old are you Miss Hewwitt?" The blonde ADA asked. I opened my mouth to answer but nothing came out, I could feel his eyes on me, and when I looked over he was giving me 'the look'

     "I-I uh,"

    "Answer the question Miss Hewwitt." The judge badgered.

    "I-" my chest got tight, "my-" tears blurred my vision, "10." I pushed out trying to calm myself.

    "Stop this madness, my daughter is clearly in distress." My father tried to trick everyone, oh how I wanted to see him get locked away.

    "The witness is dismissed."

    "No-" I wheezed out. "No-I-I saw it! He did it!" 

    "Miss Cabot, control your witness." The ADA came over to talk to me but when she touched me I broke even more.

    "Don't touch me! He would look for babysitters, tell them he had a 10-year-old daughter who needed to be looked after while he was at work, he would pretend to leave then come back and drag her into the bedroom. She would beg him to stop, he did that to at least 8 babysitters." There was a pause before my father jumped from his seat.

    "You little slut! I gave you a place to live and you ratted me out! You will die for this, just like your mother!" He was dragged out and I started sobbing the ADA held her arms out to me, I accepted this time and sobbed into her chest while she rubbed my back and promised I'd never have to do that again.

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

More Precious Than Rubies: Part 4b

This is an alternate timeline story that has a Rafael Barba track and a Sonny Carisi track. The two paths split off in part 3.

WC: 3390

TW: Angst; end of relationship drama.

AN: The prompt was "I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!"

Sonny wasn’t sure that there was anything more he could do, but he thought about you all the time.  As a public defender, there was always a good chance that you’d drift through the precinct, your heels clicking on the tiled floor and your jaw set and ready to brawl with Barba.  When it happened, Sonny could only watch in admiration at how relentless you were. 

And if he enjoyed the way your various twill or Italian wool skirts fit you like a glove, no one needed to know about that other than god and the priest who heard his confession.

He didn’t have anyone to talk to, really.  Amanda was a lost cause, too wrapped up in her own issues.  And Sonny wondered if she’d ever really loved anyone or been in a real relationship.  She seemed to go through men – no shame – but there was no common ground between that and a committed relationship.

The best support he had was Bella and, god help him, her fiancée Tommy.  Sonny had never been much of a fan of Tommy’s, but the man had gotten his life in order after a stint in jail for drug charges.  He worked hard and loved Bella, which was the best Sonny could hope for his sister.  And now that she was pregnant, he hoped it would be enough.

Sonny went over to the couple’s place one Saturday night to cook for them.  Tommy was a lost cause in the kitchen, and Bella was well into the third trimester – complete with swollen feet and a ravenous appetite for their ma’s chicken marsala recipe.  Sonny was only too happy to oblige.

After dinner (said chicken marsala, a mixed green salad, and crusty rolls – all wolfed down by Bella with an appetite that made Sonny smile), the trio sat in the tiny living room and sipped the rest of the red wine that Sonny had brought.  Bella helped herself to half a glass; Sonny had objected, but Bella had given him an earful about how her doctor said that half a glass of red had heart benefits that outweighed the negligible potential bad side effects, and furthermore, if he was such a fucking expert on pregnancy, he was more than welcome to carry the future Baby Sullivan for the next month and a half.  Sonny had looked to Tommy for support halfway through her tirade, but the man wisely averted his eyes and carefully studied the label of the wine bottle until Bella was spent.

There was a heavy silence for a moment, then Sonny’s younger sister asked, as if she hadn’t just yelled at him, how Sonny was doing.  Just like when they were kids:  screaming and pinching each other one minute, friends the next.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but Bella saw right through it.

“Liar.  You look tired.  You sleeping?”

Sonny shrugged.  “Usually.  Some of the stuff I see at work makes it hard.”

Tommy made a sympathetic noise – he had been assaulted repeatedly by his own parole officer and was in therapy as a result, so he knew at least a taste of what SVU dealt with.

“You need someone to go home to,” Bella declared with authority. 

Sonny winced and tried to hide it behind a sip of wine, but his sister caught it. 

“You seeing anyone?” she asked.  “It’s been a while since you got dumped.”

He ducked his head and considered not telling Bella about your recent reappearance in his life but decided to go ahead and tell her.  She’d find out anyway, and maybe she could offer some insight from the female perspective.  When you’d broken up with him over a year ago, Sonny had leaned heavily on his younger sister, crying to her about the loss of you.

So he told her all the news:  how you marched into the precinct one day as a public defender, how you went to lunch with him and accused him of emotionally cheating with Amanda, how you made polite small talk with him and sometimes looked sad when you saw him.  How he didn’t know what to do now.

“She probably still has my number blocked,” he finished.  “And I doubt she’ll go to another lunch with me.  I see her all the time now but can’t get through to her.  I wish…I wish I could just let her know how I really feel.”  He sighed and scrubbed his hands down across his face.  “I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!”

Tommy made that sympathetic clucking again, and Bella looked sad too.  You had only met Sonny’s entire family once, but you’d spent time with Bella a handful of times after the two of you clicked instantly.  Sonny had pictured a future where the two of you were married, and Bella and Tommy were married, and your respective children could grow up together, cousins as close as siblings. 

“Well, if you can’t talk to her or call her, you could always write her a letter,” Tommy offered.  He rarely spoke up at Carisi gatherings, and both Sonny and Bella looked at him in surprise.  Tommy shrugged.  “You know, at least you can get your feelings out on paper.  You don’t have to send the letter.  But if you do….” He trailed off, uncomfortable.

Bella cocked her head at her fiancée.  “That’s actually a good idea,” she said, and Tommy beamed.  They both turned and looked at Sonny expectantly.

“Maybe,” he conceded. 

“C’mon,” Bella wheedled.  She punched him lightly in the arm.  “Girls love romantic gestures like that.  And who writes love letters anymore?”

“Maybe,” he repeated, but he was already composing the opening lines.

-----

He typed out all of the drafts on his personal laptop, revising and rewriting and sometimes deleting and starting over entirely.  It took him a week to get a final version ready.

He thought about Bella’s line about romantic gestures and stopped at a stationary store.  He bought some nice, heavy paper edged in a dark blue that reminded him of the sweater you were wearing when he first met you.  He bought a nice pen too, and then he got to work.

If you hadn’t gone to that lunch with him and opened up a bit about where you had been when you broke up with him, Sonny would never even consider writing you a letter.  But you had, and it had given him a slender bit of hope that you’d be open to hearing more from him.

It took a few tries.  His cursive was out of practice, and the first few attempts resulted in misspellings and ink blots.  He kept writing it out until it was perfect though, even if his hand was cramped and aching from writing so much.  Bella was right – who wrote love letters anymore?  If he couldn’t give you anything else, he could at least give you one, perfect love letter.  You deserved that much, at least.

*******

You were feeling great – you had spent the morning at a sexual cybercrimes conference.  You had seen Barba, implied that his coworker O’Dwyer was smarter than him, and then delighted at how offended he looked.  Of all the ADAs you had to deal with on a regular basis, Barba was your favorite to wind up.  You practically skipped back to your office, where a mountain of new cases waited for you.

You shut the door to your office and shed your suit jacket in the airless little room.  You kicked off your heels and slipped into a pair of sandals and settled into your chair. 

You started with the interoffice mail:  standard memos and policy changes and an updated public defender contact list.  There was a retirement card being passed around for an older paralegal who was ready to hang it all up and move to Boca Raton. 

You moved on to your regular mail.  There was the usual junk that slipped past your admin.  A plea for a donation from Fordham.  Some letters from past clients. 

At the bottom of the stack was a manila envelope with your name printed carefully across the front.  No return address – another client, probably.  You opened it and slid out another envelope of heavy, creamy paper.  Your name was written across the face in familiar handwriting.  Your stomach dipped when you recognized it.  Sonny.

You thought about tearing it open then and there, but you got a call to go to the 5th precinct, so you tucked it into your satchel.  It was probably safer to read it at home anyway.

-----

The letter sat in your bag like unexploded ordinance, but you got through the day.  You rushed home, skipped dinner, and poured yourself a tumbler of wine to the brim.  You settled onto your couch, took a deep breath, and opened the letter. 

The paper was heavy stock and gorgeous.  The handwriting was careful – nicer than Sonny’s usual scrawled signature or block printed notes from college.  He’d obviously put time and thought into whatever he wanted to say.  So you took another breath, took a few deep swallows of wine, and read it.  It said:

You probably think that we first met when we both went bowling with our mutual friends, but that wasn’t the first time I’d ever seen you.  The first time I saw you, we were in the same class a semester earlier – Investigative Criminal Procedures.  It was a huge lecture hall, and you always sat about five rows ahead of me.  Of course I noticed you, because you are beautiful, but it was a fight you had with the professor that made me realize how much of that beauty came from deep within you.  Maybe you remember?  Professor Graham had some controversial thoughts about search and seizure, and you shot your hand up, didn’t bother to wait for him to call on you, and then you launched into an impassioned tirade that tore every one of his points apart.

My first thought after that class was that if I ever was in trouble with the law, I was going to hire you as my lawyer.  My second thought was that I was certain that I loved you.

When I finally met you that night at bowling, you see, I already was in love with you.  And you were so friendly and happy, laughing at your own terrible score – I only fell harder.  When I went home that night, I made a vow that I’d make you mine, and for a blessed while, I had.  But I lost my way, and I lost you in the process.

I don’t want to dwell on what I did wrong because I replay it every day of my life.  I just want you to know that I regret, every day, how I neglected you.  How I took you for granted.  How I assumed that you’d wait around for me to get my act together.  How I didn’t put you first or make you feel how special you are to me.  I’ll always regret how I failed you.

But I want to say all the things now that I should have told you when we were together. 

You are, as I said, beautiful, both inside and out.  You always manage to make my heart stop every time I see you, whether you’re in your work suits or in your comfortable pajamas.

You have so many amazing things going for you.  You’re easily the smartest person I know, and you have both book smarts and common sense.  You’re always able to get to the easiest solution to a problem.  You’re abilities in the courtroom as a public defender just proves this.

You have an amazing sense of humor.  You always seem to be able to find the humor in the situation, and you always made me laugh.  And you manage to tease people in a way that builds them up and doesn’t tear them down.  It’s a gift.

You have an amazing heart.  You always show care for your clients, and before that, care for your friends, for me, and even for the strangers who cross your path.  You never seem to judge – you give the homeless man money with the same love you give to your friends when they need you.  I love that about you.  You don’t make people work for your love:  you just give it freely, even when they don’t deserve it.  You certainly gave it to me far longer than I deserved it.

If I had to describe you in a single word, it’d be “rock.”  You were always my steady foundation, my touchstone for when things seemed too hard.  You supported me when I wanted to give up on law school.  You supported me when the NYPD was moving me from precinct to precinct and I wanted to give up on being a detective.  You saw me at my worst moments and kept me grounded and gave me hope.  Sometimes I felt my faith failing me, but I never stopped believing in you.  And no matter what happens, I never will.  

More than anything, I want to you know – really know – that I loved you then and I love you still.  I know why you probably won’t believe that, but it is true.  I know I didn’t give you enough proof of that fact, and I regret it.  I know that you think there was another woman with a place in my heart, but that wasn’t the case and still isn’t the case.  How could there be room for anyone else there, when you took it so utterly and completely?  And when you have it still?

I hope this letter did not upset you.  It was not my intention if it did.  These are all things I should have said a long time ago, when I still had you, and it’s no one’s fault but my own that I have to write them down and send them to you now. 

If nothing else, I want you to know that I loved you completely then, that I love you completely now, and for the rest of my life, I’ll love you just as much.  And as such, I want you to be happy, no matter what that looks like. 

It was signed, “love always, Sonny.”  But you could barely read it through the tears streaming down your face.

You probably read it twelve more times before you went to bed, and since you were unable to sleep, you read it twelve times more.

-----

You saw Sonny across the courtroom a week later, but he just nodded at you and gave you a small smile that didn’t reach his bright blue eyes.  You nodded back and smiled. 

You were working on your own response, in letter form to keep it true to his own letter.  You approached it a lot like your law work – you wrote out an outline and built it from there.

It took you a few weeks to craft the perfect response, and you carried it in your bag for another week.  You didn’t want to mail it to him.  You figured, after the way you’d dumped him, you owed him a hand-delivered letter.  It was the least you could do, especially after he made the ballsy move of even reaching out at all.  And you had to admit that there was something romantic about getting a love letter.  It was a stark contrast to your last attempt at dating, when a guy you’d gone on a first date with texted you a week later with an unimpressive dick pic.

Then you got a call about a client in the 16th who was arrested and about to face arraignment in a day.  You checked your bag and made sure the letter was there.  If you saw Sonny, you vowed to hand it to him then and there.

********

Sonny was tortured by that stupid letter.  You never responded.  He knew deep-down that you might ignore it, but he had some stubborn hope that you’d reach out to him.  He had a stupid, recurring fantasy where you rushed over to his apartment in the middle of the night after reading his letter, tearfully admitting that you still loved him too. 

He saw you once in court, and you nodded at him in greeting but didn’t say anything.  He resigned himself to finally admitting that it was over.  But at least you knew how he felt.  Maybe it gave you some comfort or closure.

-----

It was another grey day in Manhattan.  Well, it was July and sunny, but Sonny didn’t feel particularly up to his nickname.  Amanda was just starting to show in her surprise pregnancy, and she was an irritable, nauseous mess.  Fin and Liv had collared a potential serial date rapist who was preying on Hudson University students, and he sat in the interrogation room after asking for a lawyer.

The elevator dinged, and Sonny heard the familiar click of heels.  He felt his stomach drop while his heart soared, an uncomfortable feeling.  The feeling of possibility that would probably just disappoint him.

You breezed past him and Amanda and strode into the interrogation room where Barba was waiting.  Sonny heard first some low voices, then louder ones as you and Barba got warmed up and then traded snappy retorts as you tried to find a compromise.  Everyone, including Sonny, knew how to read the situation now:  if you marched out with your head tilted and Barba strolled out scowling, it was no deal.  If you marched out with a smile and Barba strolled out scowling, there was a deal.

Today?  You marched out with your head tilted in defiance, and Barba fell in step with you for a few strides, trying to salvage some deal.  Sonny smiled to see it.  Barba never seemed flustered by anything, but you had a way of making the ADA seem rattled.  You just shook your head at him….until your eyes fell on Sonny.

You started to smile, but your eyes slid over to Amanda and Sonny saw it all in slow motion.  He saw your smile falter as you took in his partner’s pregnant belly, and he saw you make a giant assumption about who made it that way. 

“Shit,” he muttered, and he watched you practically sprint out of the bullpen.  Barba, for his part, looked confused and started to follow but stopped.  Sonny went after you and nearly caught up thanks to his long legs, and even though you kept jamming the elevator button, he managed to get his hand in and stop the doors.

He called your name, but you shot him an angry look through tears that were welling in your eyes.

“Let go of the door,” you said through gritted teeth.  Your voice had a shaky quality as you fought the urge to cry.  “Just let me go.”

“No,” he replied.  “I know what you’re thinking….”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” you retorted.  You punched the button on the elevator a few more times for good measure, then you reached into your bag.  “I’m thinking that I’m a fucking idiot.  That’s what I’m thinking.”

“It’s not like that,” he pleaded, and he felt his own eyes fill with tears.  You were so distressed; he just wanted to reach out and hold you, but when he extended a hand, you visibly flinched from it.

“I don’t care what it’s like!” you wailed, and you pulled a folded piece of paper – no, pieces of paper – out of your bag.  You tore them in half, and then again and again and again until you couldn’t tear anymore.  Then you threw them at him, and Sonny realized that the confetti was your reply to him.  Or had been.  He knelt to pick up the pieces of torn paper, and the elevator, finally released, closed its doors and carried you out of the building.

He couldn’t chase after you.  You were too hurt by what you saw – or thought you’d seen – and he was on such thin ice anyway.  All he could do was gather up the tiny pieces of paper from the dirty precinct floor.

And take them back to his desk.  And start to put them back together.

[etclouie-navigation]

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main stuff;

- my writing blog is @etclouie and all of my work can be found there

- any empty tags are because i haven't posted any fics with that person yet, but i do have loads of plans and ideas written down for all of the characters listed

- tags are added in masterlist order, and how they appear there

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characters;

— the walking dead;

𝜗𝜚 rick grimes

𝜗𝜚 daryl dixon

𝜗𝜚 negan smith

𝜗𝜚 abraham ford

𝜗𝜚 glenn rhee

𝜗𝜚 shane walsh

— call of duty;

𝜗𝜚 john price

𝜗𝜚 simon riley

𝜗𝜚 soap mactavish

𝜗𝜚 kyle gaz garrick

𝜗𝜚 alex keller

𝜗𝜚 alejandro vargas

𝜗𝜚 rudy parra

𝜗𝜚 phillip graves

𝜗𝜚 keegan russ

𝜗𝜚 poly!ghoap

𝜗𝜚 poly!141

— criminal minds;

𝜗𝜚 aaron hotchner

𝜗𝜚 derek morgan

𝜗𝜚 spencer reid

𝜗𝜚 luke alvez

— sons of anarchy;

𝜗𝜚 jax teller

𝜗𝜚 chibs telford

𝜗𝜚 juice ortiz

𝜗𝜚 tig trager

𝜗𝜚 opie winston

𝜗𝜚 happy lowman

— ncis and svu;

𝜗𝜚 tony dinozzo

𝜗𝜚 tim mcgee

𝜗𝜚 gibbs

𝜗𝜚 jimmy palmer

𝜗𝜚 nick torres

𝜗𝜚 elliot stabler

𝜗𝜚 rafael barba

𝜗𝜚 nick amaro

𝜗𝜚 sonny carisi

— marvel;

𝜗𝜚 frank castle

𝜗𝜚 tony stark

𝜗𝜚 bucky barnes

𝜗𝜚 peter parker

𝜗𝜚 steve rogers

𝜗𝜚 logan howlett

𝜗𝜚 wade wilson

— marauders;

𝜗𝜚 sirius black

𝜗𝜚 remus lupin

𝜗𝜚 james potter

𝜗𝜚 poly!marauders

— harry potter;

𝜗𝜚 harry potter

𝜗𝜚 ron weasley

𝜗𝜚 fred weasley

𝜗𝜚 george weasley

𝜗𝜚 neville longbottom

𝜗𝜚 oliver wood

𝜗𝜚 dean thomas

𝜗𝜚 seamus finnigan

𝜗𝜚 cedric diggory

𝜗𝜚 draco malfoy

𝜗𝜚 blaise zabini

𝜗𝜚 tom riddle

𝜗𝜚 mattheo riddle

𝜗𝜚 theodore nott

𝜗𝜚 lorenzo berkshire

𝜗𝜚 regulus black

— misc one;

𝜗𝜚 javier pena

𝜗𝜚 steve murphy

𝜗𝜚 spooky

𝜗𝜚 cesar diaz

𝜗𝜚 rafe cameron

𝜗𝜚 jj maybank

𝜗𝜚 carl gallagher

𝜗𝜚 lip gallagher

𝜗𝜚 rio

— misc two;

𝜗𝜚 harry lewis

𝜗𝜚 simon minter

𝜗𝜚 tobi brown

𝜗𝜚 santiago 'pope' garcia

𝜗𝜚 francisco 'catfish' morales

𝜗𝜚 joel miller

𝜗𝜚 bobby nash

𝜗𝜚 evan buckley

𝜗𝜚 eddie diaz

requests are open here !

[winchesterszvonecek]

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tags: #winchesterszvonecek answers

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