#sonny carisi angst

[ameliora-j]

ive just had surgery and binging thru ur sonny stuff,, can you write something smutty for sonny x reader in a hospital bed? plspkspkspkspks

since u asked so nicely sweet girl !

“shhh” sonny urges, the two of you giggling as your lips connect in never ending kisses. “you have to be quiet if you want to do this, amore” he hums, his kisses trailing down your neck as his hand squeezes your thigh gently, slowly spreading your legs.

“feel like horny teenagers” you whisper softly as he kisses you once more. a soft moan escapes your lips as his fingers ghost over your panty-clad cunt. sonny chuckles against your lips at your statement, pressing down on your clothed clit as you grind on his hand. “please…” you whine.

your nurses are coming in every hour on the hour, and it’s ten till. sonny realizes he has between five and ten minutes to make you cum, and feeling how wet you are decides it’s enough. “don’t worry baby, i’ll give you what you want” he hums, pushing two fingers easily into your slippery opening.

your mouth drops open, but before you can let out an earth shattering moan, sonny is pressing his lips to your’s and all but forcing his tongue into your mouth. his fingers expertly curve to press against your gspot, his thumb stroking over your clit as tears of pleasure spill over your lashline. “you’re so tight, tesoro… such a wet little pussy” he mumbles against your skin as he nips down your neck.

“sonny…” you gasp wetly around a moan, your cunt fluttering around his thick digits. all you can do is whine and moan as he repeatedly presses his fingers against your gspot. your head is buried in his neck, hiding your moans as he pushed you to an orgasm.

“breathe steady, tesoro… don’t want your heart rate alerting your nurses” he smirked, winking down on you. “just take my fingers like a good little girl… moan for me, bambina… let me hear you” he growls, his fingers picking up their pace as he feels the walls of your cunt fluttering around him.

“i… i need to… i need to cum” you stammer, trying to steady your breathing as you hear the heart rate monitor changing. sonny doesn’t say anything, only doubling down in his efforts to make you cum, circling his thumb around your clit. your jaw drops as you look up at him, forcing you into a kiss to conceal the loud moan you let out as your cum gushes onto his fingers just as you hear the nurse knocking on the door to come and check your vitals.

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Mr Right

So, anonymous requested this request. And not gonna lie it was hard to write in so far as making Rafael a dick but otherwise I loved writing adoring Carisi caring for pregnant reader.

Warnings: Swearing, threat of violence, angst

Master List

Prompts

You casually walked through the squad room, smiling at your fellow detectives as you made your way to Liv’s office. You paused briefly as you saw them all look at each, their smiles not quite convincing. You shrugged before continuing on, thinking that they were just concerned with how you were handling the baby Drew Incident. Which…fair, you probably weren’t handling it as well as the others, and Rafael hadn’t answered your calls or been at home when you went by his place. The two of you had been dating for around six months and you wanted to check on him and not being able to tell if he was okay was worrying you. You hoped that he had at least talked to Liv which was why you were making a beeline for her office.

“Hey, Liv,” you leaned against her doorway rapping your knuckles against the glass.

���Y/n,” Liv waved you in, you noticed her smile was forced as well and you could see the strain around her eyes. “Come in. I wasn’t expecting you to be in today.”

“Oh?” you asked tilting your head as you stepped through, closing the door before taking a seat in-front of her desk. “Why?”

“I thought maybe you might take some time off or even request a leave of absence,” Liv sounded confused. “Maybe even talk about a transfer once you two had discussed where Rafael was moving to.”

“Moving?” you asked even more confused. “Rafael, is moving?”

“He hasn’t told you?”

“We haven’t talked since his trial, he said he needed some time, and I gave that to him but when I tried to call him or go by his place there was no answer,” you could feel your heart speeding up, as a burning sensation built at the back of your throat. “Rafael talked to you?”

“Yes, he said he had put in his papers and was thinking of leaving,” Liv’s voice turned to steel as she put together the pieces you were still missing but were slowly putting together.

“He…he’s leaving, and he didn’t even tell me,” your voice quivered as your vision became blurred as your eyes filled with tears. “He’s left me.”

“I am so sorry,” Oliva stood up and moved around to you. She wrapped her arms around you holding you close to her as you cried. Your chest felt tight as you tried to get your breathing under control, but it was difficult as the buzzing in your head got louder.

“I can’t believe he wouldn’t even call me,” your voice was soft but measured as the buzzing in your head slowly disappeared. You could feel your body slowly starting to heat, you took in a deep breath before letting it out in a shaky exhale. Anger started to fill your veins, pushing away from Liv you started to pace, your hands running through your hair. “I mean what the fuck?! We were together six months we were even talking about moving in together, getting a place. I-if I ever see him again I…I’ll…fuck!”

“Your anger is understandable,” Liv stood up watching as you paced. “Take the day, more if you need.”

You spun around to face her, your chest heaving as you tried to get control, not wanting lash out at your friend. Just as fast as the rage hit you it was gone as your body sagged as if someone cut your strings. Tears filled your eyes again as you nodded. Liv’s eyes softened as she watched you switch emotions so quickly; she couldn’t believe Rafael wouldn’t even call you. She was going to kill him for hurting you.

“I’ll get Carisis to drive you home,” Liv’s voice was gentle as she reached for you again. “I don’t want you driving like this.”

You just nodded, following her out like a lost puppy. Now you understood the looks the others gave you. They knew. They bloody knew. Great so everyone but you knew that Rafael left you. You braved a look at the others, and was a little surprised. Finn looked murderous; it seems Olivia had enough time to tell them that you had in fact not known that Rafael had left. Amanda looked torn between helping Finn commit a crime and comforting you. Carisi, well, Carisi looked like someone had kicked his dog as he came towards you, his jacket in hand.

“Hey,” his hands started reaching for you but aborted their movement before they dropped to his side. You tried to smile at him but you were sure it came off a little more like a grimace. “Come on, let’s get you home.” Once again you followed after one of your friends like a lost little puppy.

--

It had been over a month since you found out that Rafael had left you like the bastard he was. And your sadness had almost completely been replaced by rage. The others had taken to be careful not to mention his name around you. It wasn’t that you would start frothing at the mouth in rage but rather you would shut down and that apparently made the others uncomfortable. Well, Carisi got more concerned then uncomfortable. He had started bringing in an insane number of baked goods and would also show up at your place with ingredients to cook dinner.

It was probably the best you had eaten in that month, or well ever apparently. Your favourite pants had gotten a little tight, actually, all of your pants had gotten tight. And that didn’t make any sense, because you were throwing up randomly throughout the day, which also tended to coincide with when someone mentioned Rafael. The throwing up just made Carisi even more concerned for you, which had him making you even more food. It was a little vicious cycle. You stared down at your pants that you were currently struggling to do up. You pouted as you tried once again to get the two sides of the pants to come together, your eyes narrowed as they once again did not come close to touching.

“What the fuck?” you whispered frowning as tears started to fill up your eyes, chest heaving as a sob crawled up your throat. “Great now I’m crying. Again.”

Giving up on your pants you fell back onto your bed allowing the sobs to run their course. You couldn’t wait for whatever this was to end. Hopefully, it would be soon. You couldn’t take much more of this. It was ridiculous. It was worse than the ups and downs during your cycle. Wait. You bolted up into a sitting position. Your sobs stopping just as quickly as they started.

“Not possible,” you whispered, grabbing your phone and opening your calendar. The date stared at you, like some big massive joke. “Nope, nope, nope.” And, yep, there are the sobs again. Flopping back onto the bed you threw the phone to the side, covering your face with both hands you sobbed harder. “Maybe if I ignore this, it will go away.”

Your little session was interrupted by a knock on your front door. Groaning you sat up, glaring down at your jeans before aiming the glare in the direction on your front door. The knock came again, dragging out another groan from you as you forced your body up tugging your shirt down as much as you could to cover your undone pants.

“I’m coming,” you called out as the knock sounded again. “Don’t be so god damn impatient.” You yanked open the door, glare firm on your face even as you continued to cry.

“Hey-woah, are you okay?” Carisi stood on the other side, the smile freezing on his face as it morphed into a concerned frown.

“Do I look okay?” you demanded turning away from him and walking back towards your kitchen leaving the door open for Carisi to walk through.

“I mean…no?” Caris seemed unsure if he should answer that question honestly. You huffed reaching to get a glass, Carisi’s eyes zeroed in on your undone pants and the swell of your stomach. His eyes slowly moved up, taking in any other changes he could see. Only to stop when he caught your eyes, your puffy, wet, red eyes that were currently glaring at him.

“Can I help you?” your voice was cold, almost seething, as you set the glass down and tried to tug your shirt back over your pants again. “I am aware that my pants can’t do up at the moment, but that is no reason to look at me with judgy eyes.” You voice broke as the tears started falling again. “And fucking hell, can I stop crying for five minutes please?!”

“Trust me I was not looking at you with “judgy” eyes,” Carisi promised, arms twitching as he resisted the urge to hug you. “I was concerned. And I think I may know what is going on.”

“Of fuck off, with your knowledge because you have sisters,” you cursed. “I am not…I can’t be…pregnant.” Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you but it broke his heart. You sounded so scared.

“You’ve been throwing up a lot, and your body has changed,” Carisis thought better of using the phrase “gained weight”, his sister did not appreciate it one bit. “Not to mention how you’re switching between emotions really fast. It might be a good idea to take a test. Just to be sure.”

You looked up at him, all the anger fading from your face as you heard someone else voicing the thoughts that ran through your head once you realised it had been nearly two months since your last period. Shaking your head, you closed the distance between the two of you and fell against his chest. Carisi was always an affectionate person with his friends and right now you needed his hugs and you knew he wasn’t going to offer, not after the last time. Where you may have bitten his head off. Which you now at least had a theory as to why you reacted the way you did. Even if you really didn’t want to entertain the idea, you knew taking a test would be the smart thing to do.

“Can…I mean, will you be here, when I take it?” you asked in a tone so close to broken that Carisi wanted to hunt Rafael down.

“Of course I will,” Carisi soothed, running his hand up and down your back. “I’ll go out and get a test. You stay here, want me to maybe also get you some different pants?”

“Yes,” you nodded, hiccupping as you refused to let him go. “But just...stay here for a moment.”

“I won’t leave until you want me to,” Carisi promised, arms holding you tight to him.

“You promise?” you couldn’t help but ask him. You couldn’t help but fear that one day everyone you cared about would decide to leave you, with absolutely no warning. “You won’t leave?”

“Never,” Carisi pressed a kiss to the top of your head, heart finally shattering. It was then that swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to help you believe he wouldn’t leave, that there were people in your life who cared about you and would never leave you. It doesn’t matter what it will take, or long it will take until you believed him.

--

“You have to come out of the bathroom eventually,” Carisi called knocking against the door. “It’s been long enough, what does the test say?”

“I think the fact that I am in here having what is most definitely a panic attack should answer that!” you tried to sound angry but the sobbing and fear in your voice did not help.

“A panic-I’m coming in,” Carisi frowned, opening the door he found you sitting on the floor against the bath tub, the test in your hands. At the look on your face, he once again found himself wanting to hunt down a man he once considered a friend. You were so pale, your chest heaving as your breath came out in rough pants, your eyes looked unfocused.

“Oh, darling.” He couldn’t help the pet name as he kneeled beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. His other hand carefully took the test out of your shaking hands, noting the positive result before setting it aside so he could rub your arm in comfort.

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice shaking. “I can’t, I’m pregnant.”

“It’ll be okay,” Carisi whispered.

“How?! How the hell is this going to be okay?” you demanded pulling back from him, eyes blazing, panic seeming to fade as the anger at your situation hit you full force. “I’m pregnant, and the bastard of a father left without even so much as a good bye! I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Carisi assured you. “You are so insanely strong, not to mention brave. You would be an amazing mother. Whatever decision you choose I will support you.”

“You will? Why?” you asked confused.

“You’re my friend and I care about you,” he answered, voice firm.

“Regardless of my decision?” you wanted to confirm, knowing that Carisi had his faith. “Even if I decide I don’t want to keep the baby?”

“Yes, it is your decision,” Carisi nodded. “But, again, regardless, I will support you through it. Now come on we need to get off this cold floor and you need to eat something.”

“Carisi, I can’t,” you whined, mood switching again. “My pants don’t fit.”

“I got you new ones remember?” he gently pulled you up off the floor, pulling out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears that had started to fall down your cheeks again as your rage ebbed away at the thought that your pants don’t fit.

“Oh, right,” you bit your lip as your eyes drifted up to Carisi’s face, taking in his features as he wiped away your tears. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he smiled tapping you on the nose. “I also got some ingredients for a pasta dish.”

“Ooh, can we have that garlic bread you made the other week?” you asked brightening. Carisi’s food always made you happy, even if at first you thought it was making you gain weight.

“Yes, of course I got ingredients to make that garlic bread,” Carisi couldn’t help but laugh at not just your quick change in emotion, he was use to that, he thought it was adorable you got so excited about his food.

--

Amanda, Liv and Finn all stood around staring. Watching as Carisi handed you a container with what looked like homemade food, and he then placed a bottle of something on your desk.

“You need to remember to be taking your vitamins,” they heard him scolding you. “The Dr said your levels were low.”

“…they tasted funny,” you pouted, hand settling a little on your stomach that had started showing.

“I know that is why I went and got some different ones, apparently they taste like orange, which I know if something you are currently craving,”

“Is Carisi smiling differently?” Amanda asked, head tilted to the side.

“Yeah, he looks like y/n hung the moon,” Finn huffed.

“It’s kind of adorable,” Amanda muttered.

“She looks happy,” Liv smiled softly. She was glad to see it, you hadn’t looked so happy in months. And she was worried about what being pregnant with Rafael’s baby would do, but apparently Carisi had it all under control.

“Carisi, never brought me home made food when I was pregnant,” Amanda complained.

“That’s cause he wasn’t in love with you,” Finn chuckled as he walked away leaving the other two to watch Carisi moon over you. It was sickeningly adorable and for Carisi’s sake Finn hoped nothing went horribly wrong between the two of you. Finn would hate to have to add a list to the names of those he would shoot on sight. It currently had one.

--

You pouted. And pouted some more. Staring up at the poor man through your lashes. Said man was trying, rather admirable, to ignore you, blue eyes looking anywhere but at you. Your eyes narrowed as you stepped closer to him, puffing out your cheeks.

“Please?” you asked.

“No,” Carisi sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Carisi,” you whined. “Please.”

“It’s nearly midnight, I am not going out to get you ice cream,”

“But I want pickles and ice cream,” you huffed. “And we only have pickles and no ice cream…oh and sprinkles! With peanut butter, that sounds sooo good. Doesn’t that sound yummy?”

“Sure,” Carisi laughed, this was the fourth time in two days that you had started out wanting something only to find several things to add to it.

“So, you’ll get the stuff?” you bounced lightly on your feet, hands moving to hold your stomach. You were entering your second trimester, and the cravings were only getting stronger.

“Fine, but you are coming with me,” Carisi tapped you on the nose, grinning when you scrunched it up.

“Good idea!” you nodded. “We can get pizza as well.”

“Pizza?” Carisi asked, face scrunching in confusion as he led you out of your apartment. You nodded, grabbing his hand without thinking and tugging him along.

“Yes, now come on.”

--

You weren’t entirely sure when your feelings for Carisi changed from friendship to wanting to always be around him. On the odd night when he wasn’t at yours you missed him, when he went out into the field and you were stuck at the desk doing paperwork, you missed him. And also worried about him an insane amount. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do with this change but you were happy to let things happen when they happened. And you didn’t wanna read into too much but he had been spending more time with you lately, it was very rare that he wasn’t over at yours or you weren’t over at his.  Like right now, the two of you had just finished an amazing dinner that Carisi had made you, and were now watching tv. You had curled up against him resting your head against his chest as his arm wrapped around your waist. You felt content in a way you hadn’t for the longest of times, and you didn’t want anything to change.

Just as you were reaching for the popcorn, your separate bowl that was drizzled with salt, sugar, caramel and chocolate, you felt a pressure in your stomach. You gasped sitting up hand pressed against your stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Caris moved with you, the arm wrapped around your waist tugging you to his side as his eyes moved between your face and your stomach, his other hand hovering over yours. “Are you in pain?”

“No, that’s not it,” you shook your head. “Oh, oh!” you grabbed his hovering hand and placed it where yours was. “The baby is moving.”

Carisi’s whole body felt warm as he felt the light pressure against his hand. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as he looked down at your stomach where your hands were joined together. He tried so hard to ignore the feelings that were building the longer he was around you, this wasn’t suppose to be anything more than a friend helping a friend but the more he watched you bounce happily when you ate his food. Or every time you looked at him with those soft eyes, pouting at him to get your way. It was near impossible to do anything but fall for you. That small little crush of his that had started when he joined the team, that he tried to ignore when he saw you liked Rafael, came back full force about two months into helping you.

“Look at that,” he whispered, his voice directly in your ear causing a small shiver to run through your body.

“Our baby has a strong kick huh?” you asked turning your head a little, nose rubbing against his cheek.

“Our baby?” Carisi felt his brain screech to a holt. You jolted, eyes wide as your own words repeated themselves through your head. Echoing a little in Carisi’s head as well.

“What?”

“You called the baby, ours,” Carisi moved his chin from your shoulder so he could look at you properly, trying hard to keep the smile from his face but there was no way to keep those blue eyes of his from shinning.

“I guess I did,” you nodded slowly licking your lips, suddenly finding it difficult to look at those eyes.

“Did you mean it?”

“I…I did,” you nibbled on your bottom lip, stomach fluttering. “I mean, you’ve taken me to every appointment, you’ve gone with me when I needed to get new clothes, you put up with every little craving I have and…you’re always here for me. Just like you said.” Your hand shook as it rose to cradle his face, thumb stroking just under his eye.

“Darling,” Carisi lent into your hand, those eyes burning bright with hope. “Can I kiss you?”

“You better,” you demanded leaning close to him.

“Gladly,” Carisi chuckled as he closed the distance between the two of you.

The feel of his lips brushing yours made your heart quicken, your hand cupping his cheek moved to cup his jaw as you angled your head, moving your lips against his. His hand on your waist stroked up to hold the back of your head, lightly tangling with your hair and tugging it gently as his tongue swiped out teasingly. You gasped into the kiss when you felt a slightly stronger kick, pulling away from the kiss you looked down where Carisi was stroking your stomach.

“Someone’s a little excited,” you smiled, pressing a kiss against his cheek before leaning back and putting both hands against your stomach. “Do, you wanna stay the night?”

--

“I want this baby out,” you groaned lowering yourself onto the couch next to Carisi holding your shoes in your hand. “I can’t put my shoes on.”

“Give em here,” Carisi rolled his eyes grabbing your shoes and kneeling in-front of you. “It won’t be long now before you give birth.”

“Thank fuck,” you rubbed your stomach giggling at Carisi when he raised an eyebrow at your comment. “Hey, you try growing a baby in you, carrying it for nine months, getting cankles, craving the oddest combination of food ever, having your body change in ways you never even thought about, your back constantly hurting, and finally needing to pee every five minutes.”

“Fair enough,” he focused on putting your shoes on, knowing already not to comment on anything that you just said. Last time he did, you cried. Although when you were crying about having cankles and he tried to be supportive you threw a pillow at him. So really, it was a fifty-fifty how you would respond.

“Come on, let’s go,” you held out your hands making grabbing motions at him.

“Alright, up you come,” Carisi grabbed hold of you and helped you up. You grinned up at him and took a step just before a sharp pain radiated from your stomach. You gabbed hold of it wincing in pain. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine,” you waved him off. “It’s just my stomach trying to kill me, been happening on and off for like the day.”

“Wait, you said your back was hurting?”

“Yeah so, I’m carrying around a watermelon,”

“Normally, constant back pain can be a sign that you are going into labour,” Carisi said. “And you are getting cramps?”

“Well, I’ve gone nearly two decades with getting cramps and while those where definitely painful these are something much different and are coming closer and closer together,”

“Um, honey,” Carisi started. “I think you might be in labour.”

“What like three weeks early? Pfft, unlikely, my family has a history of being like either exactly nine months or like two weeks late,” you shrugged just as your felt a gush of something wet leaving you. “On the other hand, I think you might be right…my water just broke.”

“Oh shit!” Carisi started to panic. “We don’t have your hospital bag ready and we don’t have our route to the hospital!”

“Dominick!” you shouted lightly tapping him on the cheek. “It’ll be fine. Let’s just go, we can always ask one of the others to get me some things.”

“Right, right,” he nodded. “Let’s go.” His arm automatically wrapping around your lower back to help support you as he offered his other arm for you to take as he led you carefully to the car.

--

“Dom, look it’s our daughter,” you whispered breathlessly staring down in wonder at the beautiful little girl in your arms. You had been worried that she would noticeably look like Rafael but thankfully your baby girl had inherited nearly everything from you, and you hoped that it stayed that way. But it truly didn’t matter. Carisi was her father in every way that counted, and every way that mattered.

“She’s gorgeous,” Carisi’s breathed, eyes wetting with tears as he carefully reached out and gently stroked her cheek. “Just like her mother.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. Your eyes drifted to the bag that Olivia had brought in for you, when she came in to say hello to your beautiful baby girl, and leaving with a wink.

“Sweetie, can you get something from my bag? It should be right on top,” you nodded towards it, breaking Carisi’s little mutterings that he was making towards your daughter.

“Oh, sure yeah,” he nodded distractedly. You grinned down at your daughter in secret, leaning to press a kiss to her soft little forehead.

“I’ve got a little surprise for your daddy,” you told her.

“Um, babe, is this? Is this what I think it is?” Carisi turned around holding a ring box in his hand, the lid opened to reveal a man’s ring. The band a gorgeous mixture of black, gold and silver intertwining with a hint of blue.

“Dominick Sonny Carisi, you have been my rock for the past near nine months, bringing so much happiness and light into my life,” you started, feeling yourself getting choked up. You blinked furiously. “I fell for you without even noticing. You are the father of my daughter, and without a doubt you are the love of my life. We’re already a family but I think we should make it official. Will you marry me?”

Carisi’s mouth was open, his eyes welling up with my tears as he stared at you, sitting there in the hospital bed holding his daughter. Looking more radiate than he had ever seen you. And all he could do was nod silently and take the ring out of the box and put it on his finger.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Bittersweet Symphony Masterlist:

Summary: When you unexpectedly discover you're pregnant, you're thrust into navigating the complexities of your new reality. As the baby's father remains distant, it's your partner, Sonny Carisi, who steps up in ways you couldn't dream of. You find yourself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions, including the unexpected feelings of slowly falling in love with your partner. Pairings: Sonny Carisi/Reader, Rafael Barba/Reader. Chapters: Chapter 1: My Sacrifice. Chapter 2: Fear.

[kaliopes]

lately i am getting a lot of inspiration for my Barisi wip (the one in which Sonny and Amanda are getting divorced - very friendly process tho - and he meets Rafael for the first time in more than 4 years of basically radio silence between them. Rafael has a daughter, moved all the way to the West Coast in Oregon to be near her, and is now a professor in Portland and a firm advocate for Immigrants’ Rights). all their lives have been changed, they certainly aren’t where they all supposed to be in the age they are, with the story they had.

initially it would be just a one shot, with the various moments Sonny and Rafael would meet in NY after they both are matchmaked by… yes, our girl Rita. she’s been suffering too much with Rafa’s contained, but loud melancholic nostalgia. and Sonny boy isn’t doing well in court, it’s getting too easy to rattle him in a deal. Rita will have none of that.

now i have a lot of thoughts and angst about the characters’ feelings of being the one left behind, watch your once friends’ lives by the sidelines, the bitterness of having to finally, finally let go of the life you so desperately wanted all those years (not only for you, but for your child). but Rafa needs to get done with it, as soon as possible. and it’s chaotic.

the grief of losing a mother, of losing the expectations you so had all your life, just to see it shattered in a year or so, because there was love, so much love, dedication, respect, presence, but that wasn’t enough. there is still something Sonny desperately wants and it’s chaotic, it’s his desires, the ones he neglected so much years before, the ones that turned out to be ghosts remembering him that a life well lived isn’t one done by the books, by the traditional expectations of everyone around him.

a life well lived can be chaos, like taking care of the 3 children you share with your amazing ex wife, and trying to get on the good graces of the first person Sonny ever thought he could ditch the whole white picket fence shit for. and now this certain someone has an autistic daughter, Marielena, co-parents her with a woman he met for a one night stand during a conference in LA and, god, wouldn’t Cynthia Haines be an awesome woman as well.

Olívia makes some appearances, but the outcome is not that good. I’m on the team that Rafa, after all this time, deserves to have his solitude, anger and bitterness respected. In fact that’s one of the WIPs axis.

[narcissuslecter]

HEY BABES!!!

it's me, your fave internet menace, will graham smokes truther, barisi angst writer, who hasn't been writing and hasn't been posting! my life got super crazy busy and i have had literally noooo time to write :(

but i have been writing little bits and ideas here and there. for all u angsty barisi babes thank u so much for reading <3 im writing chapter 3 rn and i hope to have it out soon!

for all u hannigram babes, thank u so much for reading <3 i have some more tyler the creator x hannigram fic ideas planned, real angsty kinky stuff because i can and that's what u love me for.

and i even have a few criminal minds fic ideas in the drafts, also, angsty kinky stuff because i can and u haven't seen what i can do yet!

all that rambling aside, send me headcanon reqs, send me asks!

be gay, see u next time <3

[electrictoes]

now that Rollins is back at nypd and on the show, it's time to put Carisi in dangeeeer!! hurt him a bit here, kidnapping him there, chop chop come on people, fans want it, Peter wants it, make it happen!! it could be glorious! Kelli and Peter would deliver!

please send them a script of your own tho Paula, I don't trust them to write it good lol

Oh I desperately want them to hurt him in a non-permanent way!

Just putting it out there they’re welcome to steal any of my ideas 😂

[pixiedane]

Chapters: 2/18 Fandom: Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: Organized Crime, FBI Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Olivia Benson/Elliot Stabler, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Olivia Benson, Elliot Stabler, Maureen Stabler, Kathleen Stabler, Richard "Dickie" Stabler, Elizabeth Stabler, Elliot "Eli" Stabler Jr., Noah Porter Benson, Amanda Rollins, Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Jet Slootmaekers, Jamie Whelan, Carl | Maureen Stabler's Husband, Bernadette Stabler, Ayanna Bell, Odafin "Fin" Tutuola, Stuart Scola, Tiffany Wallace, Additional Characters in Minor Roles Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Living Together, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Family Drama, Past Domestic Violence, Past Torture, Past Sexual Assault, Psychological Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Declarations Of Love, Additional Warnings In Author's Note

Summary:

Agent Scola stood at the bottom of a sweeping staircase in the foyer of a mansion in Long Island, seized as part of a drug bust five months ago. In front of him stood an SVU captain, three detectives, an ADA, a pregnant adjunct professor, an octogenarian, the four adult Stabler children and Maureen's husband, an angry college kid, a tween doing his best SVU captain impression, four children under ten, a large dog, three cats, a ferret, and a mountain of luggage.

Or, the crew move in.

Inside Out

[questions-about-blorbos]

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[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Sonny Carisi: Claddagh Ring 

Warning: Angst and mention of Irish heritage

There is a part 2 now

You stood at the kitchen counter silently. Sonny raised his voice still echoing off the walls as you watched his hands finally stilling as he finished talking. You weren’t sure how that fight had started tonight. Maybe it was just a continuation of many other arguments you had in the last month or two. Fights that never ended with a solution but hurt feelings. It felt like there was nothing you could do to fix it. Words even spoken with the best intentions seemed to be twisted into something ugly and cutting.  

Weaponized.  

Your stomach churned with unease. Anxiety chokes the air in your chest making it difficult to breathe. The inside of your cheek is aching and bleeding from your nervous habit of biting it when you become stressed. A habit you had thought you had long broken, returned with a vengeance. Your body is tense awaiting the next cutting comment. 

Sonny is staring at you, his blue eyes icy. His posture is stiff, hands curled into fists. He had been a different person since the passing of his father. It had been a sudden and tragic loss. It had made your boyfriend cold and withdrawn. Angry in a way you had never seen him. You had been trying to support him. Be there for him. 

But he didn’t want it. 

Your relationship with Dominick Carisi was the best you ever had. Or at least it used to be. You never would have thought that your sweet and loving boyfriend could treat you so badly. You had held on tightly. You knew he was hurting, grieving the loss of a parent. But it was coming to about the sixth month after the passing of his father and things were not getting better but so much worse.  

Sonny was staring at you expectantly. You kept your eyes on your hands on the counter doing everything in your power to avoid his gaze. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Sonny’s voice was still angry and thick with his Staten Island accent. An accent you normally loved to hear and tried to bring out. You licked your dry lips to speak. Your throat held them tightly, thick with emotion. “That’s just great.” He huffed to your silence. 

You looked back down at your right hand. The ring on your right hand. A dainty piece of silver. A crown sitting on top of two hands holding a heart. The heart pointing towards you. An Irish meaning as old as time. 

A Claddagh ring. 

You twist it with your thumb and middle finger. You pause only for a second before easing it off. It gets stuck, not wanting to leave the position it had been in for years. Finally pulling it free. You feel a single tear roll down your cheek as you flip it before sliding it back on- heart facing out. 

Sonny catches the flick of movement, the flash of silver. His eyes follow the metal as it slides back on your ring finger. His hand braces on the counter to steady himself as he is flooded with vertigo. You had been silent all night. Unwilling to feed into the argument and add fuel to his anger. This one small action said more than a thousand words could have. It brought bile up, acid burning his throat. He had made heartfelt promises as he flipped the ring when you made your relationship official.  

Now he watched in numb silence as it ended.  

[polkadotpenguin16]

The Five Stages of Grief: Denial

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: more angst; language

Word count: 1,871

Previous parts: Prologue

You went from crying on your bathroom floor to your best friend’s kitchen. Floors seemed to be the best place for a mental breakdown. Your friend wasn’t much of a drinker, but she did have a couple boxes of white wine meant for cooking. She said this was a much better use.

It did the trick.

You couldn’t believe you just walked away from Sonny like that. But you felt like you had no other options. You’ve spent far too long in relationships, both romantic and platonic, being someone’s second choice. Waiting for them to choose you. You couldn’t do it again.

“And he just stood there trying to explain why he just HAD to help AMANDA tonight.” You were retelling the night’s events, a little tipsy from the shitty wine. “How could he think that was okay? Spending all night at some other woman’s house?! How can someone be so smart, and so cute, and so…fucking stupid?”

“Probably all that hair gel,” she suggested nonchalantly. “Too thick to let any commonsense in.”

That made you snort through your nose. She was always good at making heavy situations feel lighter.

“I’m really sorry, girlfriend. You deserve better.” She tenderly rubbed your shoulder, trying to soothe your broken heart. “But you know Sonny. He’s a little…thick…but he’s got a big heart. He just wants to help everyone. That’s why you fell in love with him, remember? Sonny the Superman?”

“Whatever.” You took another swig from the box. “It’s probably better this way.”

“Hey, now, you don’t mean that—”

“I DO mean that! I was never good enough for him!” You were getting animated, spilling wine everywhere. “You’re right—he’s Superman. He needs to be with somebody just as super. Someone he can fight crimes with. Or talk about his lawyer-y stuff with who actually understands him. I mean, who knows what the hell he’s talking about? He should come with a translator. And build a perfect life with them. Y’know, the two-and-a-half kids, a dog, and the white picket fence and shit!”

You started crying again. How did you have any tears left? “He deserves the best. And she’s it! Hell, he’s probably been in love with her since they met. Why he settled for a nobody like me in the first place, I’ll never know. I’m no superhero. My power is organizing spreadsheets and tripping over my own feet. He could have Wonder Woman. Why would he want to be stuck with…whoever the fuck Superman’s lame girlfriend is!”

Your friend was quiet, letting you vent and trying to find the right words. “I know it seems that way right now.” She softens her voice, forcing you to listen more intently to hear her. “That this is all doom and gloom. Just give it time. Have some grace. His love is genuine, and he never considered it settling. You’ll work everything out.”

Resting your head against the refrigerator, you sighed. “I don’t think this can be fixed, girl. Maybe…maybe it shouldn’t be.”

She leaned in for a hug, wrapping you tightly in her embrace. You sob into her shoulder, deeply leaning into her for support. You sat silently for a while, the same thought echoing over and over in your mind.

Maybe it’s better this way…

Sonny was brought out of his trance by his alarm buzzing. He hadn’t slept at all. He just kept replaying what happened last night. It was in crystal clear high-definition in his head. How heartbroken you were. How hurt you were.

Then you just disappeared.

He hoped you’d text him when you got to your friend’s place like he asked. For his peace of mind and a sign that you didn’t completely hate him. Anxiously staring at his phone for much longer than he knew it would take you to get there, it felt like his heart was going to erupt from his chest. The list of horrific things that could’ve happened to you was getting too long. Desperate, Sonny texted your friend. He just had to know where you were. It wasn’t until after 2 in the morning that he got a reply.

Yeah she’s here.

Well, at least he knew you were safe. Still uneasy, he dared to ask if you were okay. Deep down, he already knew the answer, and it was reinforced by her response.

You think she’d be here if she was okay? Give her some time. When she’s ready, you better fix this mess you made.

This disconnect was torturing him. He wanted to fix things now. But your friend was right. He resigned himself to waiting until you came back later.

He tries his best to put himself together and heads to the precinct. Dragging his feet, he stumbled into the bullpen.

“You get hit by a bus on the way?” Rollins immediately noticed his haggard appearance. “You look like crap.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered sitting at his desk, head in his hands, trying to collect himself.

“What, your girlfriend kick you out or something?” Fin joked from his seat.

“Actually, she left last night.”

“Wait, really?” Rollins was surprised to hear this. He made the two of you sound like a fairytale love story. You were his favorite topic and would bring you up in every conversation he could. She wondered what could have changed.

Fin glared at him suspiciously. “Whaddya do?”

Sonny took a deep breath. “I, uh, forgot about our date last night, and I, sorta…stood her up.” He was mentally kicking himself for being such a moron. The guilt made his stomach churn and his head throb.

“Dude...” Fin sat back in his chair and leered.

“I know, I know. I was helping Rollins, and I just—I spaced it. She packed a bag and went to stay with her friend.”

“That’s a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?” Rollins tilted her head back and forth as she weighed out his actions. “But I get why she’d be upset. You should’ve told me you had plans, Carisi.”

Sonny buried his face deeper into his hands, feeling even guiltier.

“Stood her up? She ain’t ever gonna forget that, man,’” Fin remarked, rubbing salt into his wounds.

“But it’s gonna be fine.” Sonny sat up with a newfound determination. “We’ll talk tonight when she gets back. I’ll beg for forgiveness, and it’ll all work out.”

Rollins looked at him skeptically. “You sure about that?”

“Of course, I’m sure!” He huffed, astonished she would even ask. “Couples fight, it’s natural. They kiss, they make up, and things go back to how they were.”

“Most fights don’t include the girl leaving in the middle of the night,” Fin pointed out.

“She just—she needed some time to cool down.” You’ve always been able to resolve your arguments. They’d never been this intense before, but Sonny was confident this was all going to blow over. “She’s gonna come home and we’ll talk. I’m gonna fix this, and this will all have been a horrible dream.”

“If you say so.” Sounding unconvinced, she returned to her laptop.

Luckily, it was a slow day at the station. A rarity as of late. Sonny busted his hump finishing all his paperwork so he could ask Benson if he could head out early.

“Leaving so soon?” Rollins questioned as he put on his coat.

“Gotta run to the store and grab some things for dinner. I want everything to be perfect when she gets back.”

“I’d be picking up some flowers if I were you,” Fin advised as he sipped his coffee.

“That too—the whole nine yards.”

“Well, best of luck to you,” she hollered as he sprinted toward the elevator.

He went to the store and picked up everything to make chicken marsala. It was the first dish he ever cooked for you. He bought extra ingredients so he would have enough leftovers for you to have lunch for work tomorrow.

He swung by the flower stand to pick up a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorites. He planned out his apology in his head on the way back. Thinking of all the ways he messed up and how he would rectify them.

When he got home, he called out to you, but didn’t hear a response. Setting the bags down, he looked around the apartment to see that you weren’t home yet. Concerned, he checked his watch. It was a little early. You were probably still at work. He unpacked the groceries and started preparing dinner.

After washing the produce and still no sign of you, worry started to creep in. He knew you needed some space last night, but surely, you’d come back soon. He was positive you missed him as much as he missed you. So, he decided to send you a text.

Hey doll, what time are you coming home? Getting dinner on the stove and want it to be ready when you get back.

There was no answer. Five minutes turned into ten. He chopped up the mushrooms and garlic and let them sauté in the pan before checking his phone. There was still nothing. He opened a bottle of beer to help settle his nerves. It was half-way gone when he checked again.

Still, nothing.

Not wanting to panic yet, he texted you again.

I’m sorry about last night. I really need to talk to you. I miss you.

Several more minutes passed. He could see the messages labeled as “read” on his phone. You just weren’t responding. Skipping past panic and going into full-blown hysteria, he fumbled with his phone trying to call you. He paced around the kitchen anxiously while listening to the phone ring.

Once. Twice. Three times.

He heard the call pick up after the fourth ring. But he couldn’t hear anyone on the other end. “Doll?” He asked hesitantly, wondering if you had actually answered.

He barely heard a whisper, “…yes…”

“Doll, are you okay?! When are you coming home?” He was frantic, talking a mile a minute. “Please come back! I’m really sorry and have to talk to you—I need to explain. We’ve gotta work this out. Just please—I need you to come home!”

You silently wept while listening to him ramble. You wanted to believe this could all be fixed, but your heart was telling you it would be futile. The cycle would just continue. What would happen the next time someone else needed him? Would you be enough?

“I’m sorry…” You were barely able to get your words out. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” It felt like his whole world was slipping through his fingers. Like water through a sieve. He was unable to stop it or even slow it down. “We have to fix this! Please come home!”

“I love you, but I just…” The line went quiet. He called out your name once, twice, but it was useless.

You were gone.

Sonny had never felt so defeated in his life. Slumping against the counter, he slammed his phone down. His eyes started to feel wet. He stood in the kitchen and quietly cried, taken aback by the fallout of one night. One mistake. One forgotten date.

[motherofdogs1010]

Masterlist

I write with chubby-coded/plus sized, racial inclusive readers in mind; very rarely do I mention anything about a reader's physical appearance, all are welcome and are written in mind for everyone to enjoy!!

Must be 18+ to join taglists

I also take frequent mental health breaks since I do suffer from poor mental health, BUT writing is my safe space so I will always come back to you guys ❤️

Key:

💋 18 + Smut

😊 Fluff

💔 Angst

🖤 Dark Storyline

😉 Omegaverse

Laurel Sickness (Sonny Carisi x Reader) 🖤

Summary: Laurel Sickness is an case of extreme case of obsessive love that is sweeping the globe with no explanation. People are becoming just as mad as Apollo once was when he first set his godly eyes on the virgin nymph, Daphne.

Warnings: 18+ only, dark!fic, toxic behavior, gaslighting, dystopian society, dark!Sonny Carisi, stalking, stalker!Sonny Carisi, the world's messed up in this story, age gap relationship, forced relationship, eventual non-con/dub-con, Stockholm Syndrome

Part I Part II TBA

Need to Know (Peter Parker x Reader) 💋

Inspired by Doja Cat's "Need to Know"

Summary: When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider.

Warnings: older woman/younger man, age gap relationship, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, daddy kink, mentions of cheating, toxic ex behavior, eventual pregnancy

Part I Part II Part III COMING SOON

Please, Please (Peter Parker x Reader) 💋

Re-write of 'Need to Know'

Part I

Little Darling (Thomas Shelby x Reader) 💋

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual smut, stripper!reader, mentions of prostitution/sex work, canon Peaky Blinders violence, swearing, drinking

Part I Part II Part III Part IV COMING SOON

Letters to Juliet & Romeo (Thomas Shelby x Reader) 😊💔

Inspired by 'Letters to Juliet' film...

Summary: Heartbroken and in the midst of the Great War as a nurse, Y/N L/N writes to a person she never expected to write to before... her brother's friend, Thomas Shelby... But the war's over now and it is time to face the letters...

Warnings: angst, wartime talk, fluff, reunion, pre-Peaky Blinders Tommy, solider!Tommy, nurse!Reader, chubby!reader, age gap (everyone is of age)

Part I Part II

Of Messiahs and Seeds (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader) 🖤💋

Summary: Emperor Paul of House Atreides has set forth with expansion of his empire on the planets that have resisted and has now come across the last stronghold that resists him: Terra Millennium...

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual NONCON/DUBCON, eventual forced marriage and pregnancy, violence, language, drinking, chubby!reader, dark!Paul Atreides, spoilers for Dune Part 2

Part I Part II Part III Part IV COMING SOON

A Jedi in Arrakis (Paul Atreides x Reader) 💋💔😊

Summary: While on the run from Empire troops, Jedi padawan Y/N comes to find out that hyper-driving in a compromised craft can have some major setbacks when she discovers not only is on a new planet but a whole new galaxy as well...

Warnings: jedi!reader, eventual 18+, NSFW, angst, fluff, eventual smut/pinv!sex, oral sex, talks of questioning the Force and teachings, spoilers for Dune Part I and II, eventual marriage

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI TBA

Solar Flare (Feyd-Rautha x Reader) 💋

Summary: Chosen as the bride of na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, Y/N finds herself at the hands of the sadistic na-Baron who seems keen on having his bride on their wedding night...

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, arranged marriage, DUBCON/ pinv sex, fingering, loss of virginity, brief knife kink, small breeding kink, crude language, forced arranged marriage

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & me

Banner by @vase-of-lilies

[sematarygirls]

Black Hole Fantasy — Sonny Carisi.

pairing: sonny carisi x reader

summary: you finally decide to tell sonny how you feel... in the middle of the night... without any warning whatsoever

warnings: none, really. angst if you squint but mostly fluff. probably some inaccuracies regarding nyc and apartment buildings, but plot convenience is more important

word count: 1.3k

a/n: based on my favorite song from the crane wives' new album beyond, beyond, beyond— black hole fantasy. i heard the last verse of the song and immediately thought of sonny, so i opened up tumblr and forewent sleep to write this.

Let's try this again

You and Sonny had a slightly rocky relationship. It wasn't him at all! He was the most perfect boyfriend in the world, and he was so patient and understanding about your commitment issues. You knew you were the problem, and as much as Sonny tried to reassure you that he was fine with taking things slow, you knew a part of him was frustrated.

You loved him so much, and you wanted to commit to him wholly and completely, but you found it hard to settle down with people. You feared that intimacy, that eventual physical and emotional closeness that all relationships somehow ended up at.

But, once again, you found yourself deciding that you were ready to be serious and talk to Sonny about moving the relationship in a more serious direction. It wasn't the first time you'd convinced yourself it was time to push yourself, but it somehow felt different this time. You felt like you were really ready.

Sonny was on your mind all the time. You couldn't get him out of your head. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled that breathtaking smile, the way his brow furrowed when he was thinking or listening really intently to someone, his hands waving in all directions when he was speaking about something he was passionate about— all the little quirks that made him him— you were completed enamored by them.

I'm on my way to your house, guided by the stars

You gripped the steering wheel as you made your way down the New York streets. That nagging voice in the back of your head was trying to tell you that you weren't ready, that you would never be ready, but you pushed it aside.

You couldn't push people away forever. At some point, you'd have to open up and be honest about how you feel, and tonight was the night.

You followed the street signs, recalling where Sonny lived. You didn't even think of how odd it might be to just show up in the middle of the night without so much as a warning; you were far too caught up in trying to keep your nerves at bay.

Your fingers drummed against the steering wheel, a song playing softly from the radio. It was one you knew well, which helped calm you a little as you sang along. You glanced at the clock, hoping he was home and still awake. You'd feel awfully guilty if you woke him up at this hour just to confess your undying love for him.

I'm pulling in the driveway, I'm turning off the car

You pulled up outside his apartment and cut the engine, staring at the door. God, were you really doing this?

Yes. Yes, you were doing this.

I'm running to your porch, I'm sprinting up the stairs

You took a deep breath and pulled out your phone, finding Sonny's contact and pressing the call button as you got out of your car and headed to the front door. You stood there awkwardly, listening to the phone ring.

God, this was a stupid idea. What were you thinking?

Just as you were about to turn and walk back to your car, he picked up.

"Hey," he hesitated, sounding like he was going to say something, but he thought better of it. "What's up?"

He didn't sound like he'd just woken up. That was good.

"Uh, hey," you responded awkwardly, kicking a pebble at your foot. "I'm downstairs. Can you buzz me in?"

He paused, and you heard shuffling on the other end. "Uh, yeah," he said. You could practically hear the furrow in his brow. "Give me a minute."

"Okay, thanks," you said, quickly hanging up. You didn't want to word vomit everything you had to say over the phone.

You heard the buzzing noise of the door unlocking and pulled it open, hurrying inside. You rushed to the elevator, practically running. You felt a little stupid, but you really needed to get this off your chest before you tried talking yourself out of it last minute.

"Stupid elevator," you grumbled, watching the floors slowly tick by, antagonizing you. You could've sworn it got slower and slower as it reached the ground floor.

Once inside, you pressed the button to his floor frantically. You figured you must have looked insane, but you didn't care. You groaned in frustration as the elevator ascended just as slowly as it had descended.

Finally, you reached his floor, rushing to his door. You take a breath. "No going back, now," you think, knocking on the door.

the door swings open, and you're standing there

Your heart is pounding as he opens the door, greeting you with that big warm smile that always made your heart melt. You couldn't help but smile back, your nerves calming just at the sight of him. You'd never felt this way with anyone— this safe and so unconditionally loved.

you're beaming down at me, you're reaching out for me / you pull me in your arms, and i feel your heart pounding

"Hey," he said again, pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, eyes fluttering shut as he engulfed you in his warm, comforting embrace.

"Hi," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel his damp hair on your neck and the strong scent of his shampoo, and you can't help but take a deep breath, inhaling his scent. He smelled like home.

i take a step back to catch my breath

"What are you doing here?" He asked as you pulled away from him. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you— cause' I totally am!" He looks at you, his brows furrowing softly. You could practically see the wheels churning in his head. He was worried that something was wrong.

"I'm in love with you," you blurted out. Your cheeks heated up as you realized your mistake. You had a whole speech planned. You wanted to sit down inside and hold his hand and pour your heart out.

Instead, you confessed your love in the hallway, looking like a deer in headlights like an idiot.

and we look at each other and double over / and laugh, and laugh, and laugh

You couldn't help but start to giggle, something you did when you got nervous. And your giggles only worsened, turning to full blown laughs when you saw the bewildered look on his face.

He couldn't help but smile, watching you break out into a fit of laughter, and soon, both of you were standing there laughing like lunatics. If anyone walked by, they'd probably think you two just escaped an asylum with how odd it would have looked.

Slowly, you two began to catch your breaths, the laughter dying out as you stared at each other, neither of you knowing who should say anything first.

"I'm in love with you too," he replied softly, his hand finding your waist and pulling you closer. "God, I'm in love with you."

You smiled up at him, and for the first time, you didn't feel scared. You weren't worrying about what would come next or if you were ready. You were just in the moment with him.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, like he was promising that what he said was true. You wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into him.

"We should probably get out of the hallway before one of my neighbors wanders out to see what all the noise is about," he grinned, pulling away from the kiss, his face still hovering close to yours. "they already don't like me. I hardly think public displays of affection will win me any brownie points."

"Shut up, you dork," you laughed, leaning in to kiss him again and gently curling your fingers into his freshly washed hair. He groaned into your mouth, pulling you inside and kicking the door closed behind him. You smiled against his lips.

You were finally happy, and you didn't plan on letting it go any time soon.

[haunting-venus]

green with desire ↳ rafael barba x fem!reader

content warnings | smut ( minors dni ), canonical svu violence, jealousy, feelings of inadequacy/anxiety ( so, light angst ), dirty talk, fem!dom if you squint really hard, some begging

word count: 6241

Of all of the terrible ideas you’d had in your life, debating punching a police officer in a crowded bar was definitely top three on the list. Your rational mind knew that it would end with split knuckles and an assault charge, while the emotional side of your brain told you to throw rationale to the wind and throw your knuckles across that brown-haired bitch’s temple.

You tried to focus your gaze on anything but the woman inciting your rage, your nails biting into your thigh. Soft light flickered off of the vintage art prints hanging on the wall, reflecting the black-and-white images of famous figures in the history of New York. Pop music sounded against the walls, just loud enough that you could feel the bump in the music at the bottom of your chest. The venue was moderately sized but felt claustrophobic with the amount of casually dressed NYPD officers that teemed at all corners, sipping a variety of beers and leaning against the polished mahogany countertop of the bar.

Leaning against that mahogany bar was a tall, slender woman with tumbling brown hair and doe eyes squinted in delight at the man in front of her. A manicured, unpolished finger circled the rim of her mojito while her other hand rested closer and closer to the man’s rested elbow. Below her fitted purple top rested a gleaming gold badge, saddled on a shapely hip. Her teeth glinted just as brightly as her badge when she giggled, lightly swatting the man’s arm. None of this would necessarily be a problem, if the man the officer was inching towards was not your boyfriend.

Instead of letting your fist connect where it was itching to, your grip tightened on your margarita glass and took a heavy gulp of the sour drink. You were a guest at an unofficial NYPD get-together, surrounded by acquaintances celebrating the recent closing of a corruption case in tandem with an officer’s birthday. Somewhere in the crowd, Detective Sonny Carisi strolled with a beer in his hand and a ‘Happy Birthday Big Boy’ pin gleaming on his breast. Tensions had run so high within the precinct the last few weeks that the need to let loose was nearly oozing off of every civil servant in the bar. The last thing anyone here needed was a librarian they barely knew from Queens assaulting a police officer and disrupting a perfectly civil get-together.

You’d met Rafael Barba while waiting in a ridiculously long line for the new coffee shop that opened down the street from the library you worked at. Caught in your own world listening to a podcast, eyes downcast to adjust a seam on your cable-knit sweater, you had collided head on with the rushing attorney resulting in black coffee tipping onto each of you. The pale blue shirt under his pin-checked brown vest and jacket had suffered the most, thoroughly drenched in hot coffee with a mottled brown stain right across his chest. You’d made a horrified, choked noise and tried to apologize as you rushed across the room in search of napkins, mumbling apologies as you dabbed at his wet suit in vain.

His annoyed gaze had softened slightly as he watched you flit around the shop with pink cheeks and wild eyes, completely ignoring the mess on your own shirt in favor of making amends to a complete stranger. He had eventually chuckled, pushing your hand away from his chest and declaring the suit a lost cause. You’d finally been able to get a good luck at him as you lowered your hands, trying to reassemble some sense of pride as the patrons of the shop gazed after your neurotic display. He was hispanic, not too tall but with broad shoulders outlined pristinely by his tailored jacket, brown hair coiffed and barely out of place even with all of your fretting. His green eyes shone with a hint of amusement even behind his mostly serious expression.

You had insisted on paying for the dry-cleaning of his suit, to which he brushed off the offer with a chuckle, promising that no grudges would be held in exchange for a new cup of coffee. He had been intrigued with your kindhearted (if strange) behavior and the way your cheeks flushed cutely when he smiled at you, prompting him to ask if you’d have time to meet for a real sit-down coffee the following week. You’d been delighted and tense at once, not one to go out on a limb with strangers, especially such handsome and well-spoken ones.

When you had met Rafael for coffee the following Thursday, the two of you had thankfully been able to avoid spilling your drinks on one another, to which Rafael had given a quick joke about in order to break the ice. You’d found yourself easily falling into conversation with Rafael, who you had learned was a prosecutor that worked nearby for the District Attorney’s office. Your nerves were quickly comforted by his easy ability to joke and his unhidden interest in getting to know you, his soft green eyes never leaving your smiling face. It didn’t take long to discover that you shared a love for historical fiction literature and high-end coffee, and you had ended the lunch with entwined fingers as he walked you to the large double doors of the library you worked at.

A few lunches quickly turned into dinners on the rare nights when Rafael was able to escape his office, where he showered you with compliments and wine expensive enough that it made you nervous to drink it. You’d quickly become accustomed to the strong feel of his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you in the entrance of his oak-furnished apartment entryway, heat rushing through your veins at the heated whispers he hissed into your neck. You treasured the quiet mornings in his kitchen almost more than the extravagant dinners. Scrambled eggs and espresso in his brightly-lit kitchen overlooking the city, his hair soft and unstyled as he swayed with you on the tile floor, that peek into this more relaxed version of your usually nothing-less-than-proper partner felt more precious than gold.

You’d never been the type of person that flaunted their relationship, especially since Rafael was such a prominent figure in the New York legal system. There was a prickling fear in the early days of your relationship that you were too plain to publicly be seen with a man associated with such prestige and power, that you would look like nothing more than a sweater-clad bookworm feigning at being worthy of a man much above her standing. When Rafael had discovered this, he’d been quick to quiet your concerns with his fingers in your hair and his head between your legs until you could think of nothing else.

After his many reassurances that he would love to show you off at any time possible, including to his coworkers, you’d become more self-confident. You’d begun to surprise Rafael at work with bagel sandwiches from an artisan bakery in between your workplaces, toting coffee and paper bags through the looming hallways of Hogan Place and barely paying attention to those who spared you a second glance for planting a kiss on the primly dressed ADA. Soon afterward, you had joined the squad of the Special Victims Unit and Rafael for the celebration of the conviction of a serial rapist. You were proud of the progress you had made with Rafael’s coworkers, forming timid friendships with the detectives that he worked so closely with on a daily basis. You were glad that you’d gained enough confidence to hold your own without using Rafael as a fallback in social situations with his coworkers, but it all felt bittersweet now that he’d been approached by another woman as soon as you had gone to chat with Detective Rollins with celebratory tequila shots.

You had gathered vaguely from Amanda that the brunette ogling your boyfriend at the bar was a recent witness in a major police corruption case that Rafael had been handling, Detective Sandra Allen from the Narcotics division. She was a hero and a villain at the same time in the eyes of her fellow cops; a snitch who ratted on her fellow officers who were spending their county-paid salary hours manipulating prostitutes into sexual favors in exchange for staying out of prison. The case made you sick, and the fact that you could feel nothing but disdain for this woman who bravely stood up and testified on behalf of those sex workers made shame burn deep in your stomach.

You didn’t need to be a police officer to notice Amanda’s sly looks between you and the scene going on at the bar, or that she was trying to hold back her laughter from the growing redness in your face that you tried to blame on the alcohol. You had hardly been listening to Fin’s rambling story about how his grandson had been inexplicably angry at the balloons he’s seen in the park because they would not stop floating, no matter how much he asked. On any other day, you would have loved to look at Fin half-drunkenly showing off his adorable lump of a grandson with a grinning smile. Right now, though, you could only hear the deep cadence of Rafael’s laugh as he finished off his scotch, and only see Detective Allen’s beautiful and flirtatious smile directed toward the man you had spent the last several months building a life with.

You were worried that the glass in your hand would shatter under your grip as you set it forcefully on the table. You knew there was no reason for you to be acting this way, feeling so scorned and bubbling with jealousy over the easy way that Allen fawned over your partner. You knew more than anyone the easy charm that Rafael brought to conversations, even when he was being a sarcastic bastard. You knew you weren’t the only woman who admired his passion and his good-looks, but having it shoved in your face like this felt much worse than just knowing it in the back of your mind.

Amanda’s mischievous expression quickly morphed to shielded concern when she noticed just how much you were bothered by the scene in front of you. Her demeanor took on the protective edge that came so easily to all the detectives you had met at the SVU, poised to talk someone down or to throw an elbow into someone’s teeth. “Hey, you want me to go do some crowd control over at the bar? I’m sure the Counselor is just waiting for the best opportunity to get out of there.”

You knew that you should just go over there and put a stop to it. You wanted so badly to have the conviction to strut over to Rafael, straddle his lap and make him moan in front of that woman, to show her just how he crumbled under your touch, how you were the one to bring him to his knees, to receive his hardships and his worship, not her. That display of power, of claim over a man that so many people wanted, would no doubt make her back off. But that wasn’t who you were. You were not the sultry-smiled woman who captured the eyes of every room she walked into, the one who could bite at a woman to back off of what was hers. So, instead, you threw back the rest of your drink, taking a moment to relish in the burn of tequila and the acidity of the lime that buzzed through your veins, and sent a tight-lipped smile to Amanda and Fin.

“I think I’m actually gonna turn in for the night. Too much tequila makes me stupid, you know.” You gave an unconvincing chuckle as you set some bills on the table to cover your drinks and a tip. Amanda opened her mouth to protest, hoping to keep you from leaving, but you were already pulling your peacoat onto your shoulders.

You had only gotten halfway down the street, heaving heavy breaths to lighten your heart rate and the burn behind your eyes, when Rafael called out your name from the direction of the bar. The street was relatively quiet for a Wednesday night, with only a few stragglers walking between the handful of establishments on the block. You steadied your expression before turning on your heel towards him with a shaky smile.

He stepped toward you with a soft look so often reserved only for you, his brows furrowed in slight worry. His black trenchcoat fell beautifully against his broad chest, green eyes accented by the specks of emerald in his patterned tie. Even after months, you still felt yourself melt a little at the kindness behind his eyes. “You ran out so quickly with no goodbye, is everything alright?”

“I’m just tired, and you seemed like you were having a good time talking to Detective Allan. Didn’t want to take you away from the fun.”

His eyebrows rose in question at the unexpected bite in your tone. You had tried to hide your rising feelings with the shit poor excuse, but Rafael hadn’t become a successful ADA by not being able to read people. It was one of the things you loved and hated about him, how he could peel back the layers of what you were feeling to gaze at the very core of you. It made you feel cared for and probed at the same time.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I was only being cordial with a witness who put a lot on the line to testify in our case.” He stepped into your space, running a thumb across your cold and flushed cheeks. His voice was steady, his eyes honest but confused. You scoffed lightly, still feeling your anger simmering but being calmed by his steadying touch. His hand dropped from your cheek at your exclamation, steadying a solid look at you. “Look, you know I am not exactly the DA’s office favorite person, much less the police department. She was worried about how her colleagues were going to see her, she wanted advice on how to deal with interoffice conflict.”

“Oh, don’t pull that. The only thing she was worried about was how quickly she could get your hands up her skirt.” The words burned your throat, emerging into the air before you could stop yourself. You knew Rafael wasn’t a stupid man, and you didn’t want him to treat you like you were either.

“Excuse me?” Rafael’s eyes hardened, a muscle in his jaw twitching as you took a step back from him. Your outburst had gained the attention of a passerby who gave the two of you a quick once over, and it only stoked your anger and shame. Rafael guided you with the motion of his hand towards the side of the sidewalk. “Look, I didn’t mean to abandon you, I’m sorry. I was only being polite to a woman who is going through what might be the worst time of her life. She needed someone to reassure her, to ask about her options-”

“So she had to wait until your girlfriend left to ask you about all of that? I’m not naive, you know. I see how women look at you, the looks they have when they realize you’re with me, like you’re settling for something that’s so beneath you. That they could give you something hotter, younger-”

“Stop! Just stop!” He ran a hand across his face, his expression softening as he saw the hurt on your face, the insecurity he thought the two of you had quelled long ago. “We’ve talked about this, I thought we had dealt with this. You are the only one I want to be with. The only one that I want to see in my bed in the mornings or bringing me coffee for lunch or watching tv in my old t-shirts. It’s only you.”

Shame and anxiety still burned deep in your blood as you felt burning behind your eyes. The anger had fizzled like a campfire under rain, replaced with humiliation settling deep into your stomach. A few tears wet the side of your face, and you avoided what you hoped wasn’t pity on Rafael’s face. “I’m sorry, I know that. I just- I just lost my temper and-”

“Look, I only want you. I want you to know that I only want you.” He brushed away the wetness from your cheekbone with a reassuring smile. He pressed a fleeting kiss to the side of your head as he pulled you into his chest, stroking a heavy hand between your shoulder blades. His woody cologne mingled with the salt of your tears, wrapping around you in comfort.“Let’s take a cab, forget about this bar. If you’re still doubting the way I feel about you, I clearly didn’t get my point across last time.”

You pulled back with a surprised laugh, tightening your grip on the sides of Rafael’s neck. A new heat flushed to your face with the intrigue in Rafael’s eyes, your ego stoked that he still found you desirable in the messy state that you were in. You leaned up, capturing his lips in an impassioned kiss, letting the feel of his stubble and the grip of his fingers wash over you like a wave. A shiver ran through your limbs to your fingertips, goosebumps rising as you felt the edge of his teeth against your lips. A heated gasp went through you as your back hit the nearby wall, feeling the solid line of Rafael’s body slot between your legs and against your chest. 

“Let me bring you home, show you exactly how much I want you. Please, hermosa, let me.” His voice was thick and had an edge of desperation that shot heat through your entire body, igniting every edge of your nerves with the brush of his lips to your neck.The lick of power that ran through you at having this man, so powerful and beautiful and respected, begging for the opportunity to bed you sent you reeling. With a nod, you pulled Rafael to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab, his hand gripping your waist.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’d spent the majority of the cab ride from the bar stroking your thumb on the inside of Rafael’s knee, taking long moments to let your eyes linger on the clenching of his strong hands, the swell of his powerful chest beneath his vest, the slow darkening of his eyes with arousal as you raked your eyes over him. In the elevator ride up to your loft, his fingers trailed teasingly along the bottom of your sweater, sneaking underneath to rub at the skin of your hip with fleeting touches that ran heat up your spine and between your legs. You felt yourself wanting to push him back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, to go down to your knees and to hear your name echoing from his lips as you sucked him, but kept your face falsely neutral. This was part of the game, of him letting you know how much he wanted you, how he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You felt your face flush with the intimacy of the touches, his eyes glinting at your suppressed smile.

By the time you’d reached the entrance of your studio apartment, the buzz of your earlier tequila drinks had worn off in favor of the thrill of Rafael’s touch skating up under your shirt, fingers trailing beneath your clothed breast. As quickly as your jacket slid to the floor, your back was pressed solidly against the entryway wall, your hair pushed to the side to let your boyfriend suck slow kisses into the column of your throat. The nick of his teeth against the cord of your throat let a soft sound rise from your chest, your head falling back to knock against the wall.

Stepping away to remove his trenchcoat, Rafael took a brief moment to admire your panting frame, your cheeks flushed high with want and warmth. His tone was breathy, but serious as he hung up his jacket and vest.“You’re sure that you’re in the mood? I can always bring out some wine, put on that Bermuda Triangle documentary you’ve been wanting to watch.”

His words were sweet, but you could still see the heat burning in his eyes, even as he stood carefully away from you as he awaited your answer. You smiled as you stepped forward, fingers stroking the bulge in his black trousers, a rush of confidence coming from the deep groan he let into the air. “As lovely as that sounds, I think I’ll save that for after I ride you until the neighbors complain about the noise.”

“Your noises or mine, cariño?” He taunted as he pulled your sweater over your head, his hands finding your breasts with a delicate squeeze as you pulled him by the tie towards your bed in the further corner of your studio. His thumbs rubbed against the ridge of your nipple through the thin bra, your bitten lip barely containing your groan. His lips found yours again quickly, swallowing up the breathy noises you made.

“Why don’t we see who makes them come knocking first?” You grinned as pulled firmly at the back of his hair, letting a groan rumble against the seam of your lips. A swell of pride rose in your chest as you pushed Rafael back against the mattress, making quick work of his buttons as you let your ass fall firmly onto the bulge in his pants. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers indenting your pants with their firm hold. He brought his left hand between your thighs, letting his thumb rub idly against you through your pants as your movements on his buttons stuttered. 

You steadied yourself against Rafael with a hand on his shoulder, rushing to remove your bra with the other hand to feel your skin against him. Your fingers stuttered over the clasp repeatedly, your head falling back at the pleasure that pooled between your legs. An easy smirk graced his handsome features at the stuttered breath you let in at the work of his fingers, sitting up at the waist to pull your breasts against his chest and rub between your legs more firmly. “Getting distracted over there, hermosa?”

The pet name brought a groan from your throat, wetness pooling in your cunt from his deep voice laced with arousal. Rafael’s pressed white button-up hung loosely off his shoulders, and you pushed the rest off with a renewed need to get your hands on his bare chest. His tan skin stretched over a strong chest and corded shoulders that held you firmly, dark chest hair brushed across your skin. You ran your hands down his pecs to run your nails across his stomach near the buckle of his belt, relishing in the shiver that ran through him.

Your tongue licked into his mouth with a moan, bringing one hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers through his salt and peppered hair while your hips moved against his covered cock. The hand over your pants faltered as he pulled away from your kiss, letting you get a look at his wide-blown pupils before he took his teeth to your neck with a moan.“Who’s distracted now, huh?”

You rolled to the side to shimmy out of your cotton pants, taking care to stretch your back to give Rafael a view of the curve of your ass as you turned. He pulled himself to the head of the bed, one hand stroking firmly against his hard cock over his trousers while he held the other near his kiss-swollen mouth. You felt a pang of wetness between your thighs at his lidded gaze, his eyes following each curve of your body like it was a melody he yearned to play. You leaned forward toward Rafael, your hair tumbling over the swell of your breasts as you climbed on top of him. His hands quickly moved back to slide along your body, one pinching your nipple while the other slid underneath the purple lace between your legs, dipping his fingers into the wetness there.

Rafael groaned as you ground your cunt against his hand, letting you seek your pleasure from his steady hand. The hand at your breast lowered to unbutton his trousers, his cock peeking from the edges of his dark briefs. “God, cariño, you're always so wet for me. You like my fingers on you?”

You stuttered out a breath as Rafael’s fingers dipped inside you, the palm of his hand rubbing gently against your clit as he stroked inside of you. The rolling pleasure from both areas of contact had sweat building on your chest, a moan coming high in your throat when you tried to answer. “F-fuck, yes, Raf, just like that. God…so good.”

Your breathy words spurred him on, adding another finger to your pussy. You gathered some composure, gripping your nails into Rafael’s shoulder with pleasure while your other hand went to stroke his thick cock. His rewarding moan was well worth the effort it took to keep a clear head as his fingers massaged inside you, bringing you rapidly to a crest of rising pleasure. Your legs shook even as you brought your hand up in a stroke, tightening your grip around the head in the way you knew made his eyes roll back. Precum dripped from the tip of his cock, slicking the way for your fingers to work faster, to make him feel as good as he was making you feel.

“Fuck, if you keep doing that, I’ll be gone before I even get to fuck you.”

He groaned out your name as he flipped you onto your back, moving your hand from his cock as he moved his thumb to rub firm circles against your clit.You threw your head back in pleasure from his show of strength, his forearms and biceps flexing enticingly each time he drove his fingers into you. The fingers of Rafael’s other hand gripped your ass, bringing your hips up to his hand as he kissed his way down your neck and breasts. He murmured praises of ‘beautiful’ and ‘mine’ that made your blood soar, pleasure cresting low in your stomach as your breath quickened. Your moans pitched, your nails digging into Rafael’s shoulder letting him know you were close. He breathed out a few words of Spanish, letting his teeth sink hard into the junction of your neck as you reached your high. His name slipped loudly from your lips before you bit down on your lip, shaking in his arms as he continued to stroke you through your orgasm.

Your gaze was blurry with pleasurable tears when you faced Rafael, bringing his lips to yours in a messy kiss before sneaking off to the washroom for a glass of water. When you re-emerged from the bathroom with a half-drunk glass of water, Rafael was on his back with a hand wrapped lazily around himself, his cock jumping when he caught sight of your flushed face and the growing bruise on your neck. You crawled atop your boyfriend, letting the wetness of your release drag teasingly over the length of his cock. Rafael’s hair was tousled, strands hanging enticingly in front of his eyes as he gazed hungrily at your body. He looked delectable, sweat edging along the edges of his brow and his cock glistening when it peaked above his fingers. He looked at you like a parched man drinking in the sight of an oasis, like you were anything and everything he needed at that moment. You wanted to see just how far he would go to have you.

Testing your luck, you edged your fingers along the edges of Rafael’s arms, guiding them above his head. His eyes were curious as he followed your lead, raising his muscled arms above his head for you to wrap a hand around his wrists. The muscles in his shoulders flexed as he readjusted himself as he raised a teasing eyebrow at you “Want to have me at your mercy, hermosa?”

What had started as a fleeting idea now struck a new wave of arousal over you as you gazed down at the powerful man underneath you, his eyes soft and filled with hot desire. God, he was everything you’d ever wanted presented beautifully between your legs, gazing at you like he wanted to devour you. An idea picked at the corner of your mind, sending a coy smile across your face as you draped your body over Rafael’s chest.

“Tell me.” Rafael looked at you with confusion now, readjusting his hands above his head. His tongue came out to wet his lips. He was usually the one making demands in bed, bending you to his will for both your pleasure. You felt it might be time to turn the tables.  “Keep your hands there, and tell me you want to fuck me, only me.”

Your words were shakier than you’d wanted them to be, revealing your anxieties about taking control in this way for the first time. However, Rafael quickly relaxed under your touch, a new degree of interest entering his gaze at this undiscovered side of you. He looked you in the eyes as he groaned what you had asked. “God, I want to fuck you, more than anything.” 

“I think you can do better than that.” You teased, licking a long stripe along the side of his neck up to his ear. The words felt foreign in your mouth, but you were encouraged by the twitch of his cock against you as he gasped lightly. He looked up at you with a playful glimmer in his eye, a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Are you asking me to beg?”

The words sent a blazing heat to your cunt, swallowing heavily at his words. Rafael’s eyes lit up in a similar way as when he was cross-examining someone in court, when they gave him the inch of leverage that he could stretch a mile. The proud look he got when he had someone exactly where he wanted them.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you cariño. Me, begging for your pussy like it’s the only thing I’ve ever needed in my life.” it was a statement more than a question, and fuck, the confidence he exuded even when he was under you like this had your head spinning with heady arousal. His words rumbled in your chest, urging another movement of your hips against his cock.

“Only if you want your cock inside me at any point tonight.” The words sounded hollow in your throat, undermined by the breathiness of your voice, you pressed against him again to quell off any embarrassment you felt. He grinned like he knew exactly what his words were doing to you, but let himself play the role you’d assigned him for now. If part of you wanted to try something, all of him wanted to comply, to fulfill your every desire.

“God, you look so beautiful like this. Please, please let me inside you. Let me get you off how I know you like hermosa. Please.” Even though you had a feeling he intentionally raised the whininess in his voice, the breathy tones still sent pangs of pleasure to your cunt. You gasped as the words left his mouth, pressing a desperate kiss to Rafael’s lips as you lined up his cock.

Your eyes slipped shut as you eased onto Rafael’s cock, the ridges of the head stroking the sweetest places inside of you that caused stuttered moans to fall from your lips. You ran the flat of your palm up Rafael’s chest, cupping the side of his cheek as you drove his cock into you. Rafael cursed as you seated yourself on his lap, your head thrown back in ecstasy at being filled, at being fucked. His hands shook above his head with the desire to touch you. He keened as you shifted his full length inside you, circling your hips to adjust to him.

You looked down at him between your thighs, flushed high on his cheeks with nothing capturing his attention but your body moving above him on his cock. Each swivel of your hips pushed his cock firmly into that spot that made you see stars and pushed deep, moaning praises from his throat. You reveled in the fact that no one else could see him like this, could make him moan and beg under them like this.

“God, everyone wants you like this and it’s just me that can have you. Just me that makes you feel this good, right baby? They all wish they could have your cock stretching them like this.” You babbled as your thoughts were overwhelmed with pleasure. You knew you sounded half mad, but you were too far gone to notice, relishing in the pleasure deep in your cunt.

“Fuck!” Rafael, moaned your name, finally moving his hands from above his head to bruisingly grab your hips. He raised his knees behind your back to gain leverage to roll his hips into you deep and steady, moans stuttering from your throat with every thrust that sent his cock deep inside you.

“So sexy, keep making those pretty noises for me, please.” Rafael’s words were near ravenous and you were glad you weren’t the only one overwhelmed with pleasure, desperately voicing every dirty thought that came to your mind when you looked at the man in front of you. Rafae’s grip along the curve of your waist allowed him to get the leverage to pull you down hard onto his cock 

“Aah, fuck, please, Rafael, I-I’m gonna—d-don’t stop.” You didn’t know if you meant him pulling you down hard onto his cock or the filthy words that sent heat reeling through your body.

“God,” one of Rafael’s hands slid up to grasp your breast tightly, your nipple brushing the calloused skin of his fingers and had fire licking up your spine. His eyes were wild as he drank in the sight of you crying out on his cock, your fingers reaching to circle your clit as he pulled you against him. His tone was pinched and loud, ragged with his heavy breathing.“I want you to come, on my cock, right now. Please, cariño, give it to me.”

“Raf, God, you’re making me-fuck, yes” You felt tears brim the edge of your eyes as your pleasure climbed to something primal, each rub of your clit, every brush of Rafael’s hands against you setting you aflame until you felt yourself collapsing around him with a cry of his name. He slowed, but never stopped, his movements as he rocked you against him through your orgasm, soothing the shivers of your body with his warm hands. You panted as he came down from your second high of the night, your legs shook with the effort to remain upright. 

“God, you’re killing me. Please, let me come inside you, fill you, I need-” you cracked your eyes to capture Rafael’s expression, lips parted around a moan when you moved your hands to grip at his hair. Hardly trusting your words, you nodded in your agreement with a whispered plea to ‘do it, please, come for me’. Rafael’s body went taut for a heartbeat, driving himself hard into a last few times as he came. His eyes clenched shut, his hands gripping your hips as he mumbled out praise.

Catching your breath, you rolled off of the bed to grab a towel, taking a moment to wipe yourself off before jumping back onto the moderately clean sheets, taking a moment to admire your boyfriend in his post-sex haze. This could be one of your favorite versions of Rafael, limbless and content, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as you regained your breath together. You pressed a kiss to his chest as you wrapped your arm around him, whatever insecurities you had been feeling before was long extinguished by the solidness of Rafael underneath you, his ragged breathing and the ache between your legs as proof of your mutual want.

You lay in silence for a few moments, his fingers carding through your hair before he spoke. He pulled his head back to look you in the eyes, stroking a soft hand across the back of your head. “Will you promise me that, next time you are feeling the way you did at the bar, you’ll let me know instead of storming off. That way, we can talk it through and maybe have a repeat of this, instead of you feeling awful because your mind likes to tell you lies.”

You gave a chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth with your smiling lips. “Sounds like we’ve reached a deal, Counselor.”

He let out a rueful groan, pulling you tighter into his chest as you giggled. “Call me that again and I’ll be rescinding my offer.”

“Understood…Counselor.” you whispered, avoiding his playfully stern gaze by heading to the kitchen to get that wine he had promised you.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Bitter Sweet Symphony

Summary: When reader finds out she's pregnant, she quickly realises the only person who's truly there for her isn't the father of her baby, but in fact her partner; Sonny Carisi. Slow-burn, angst, friends to lovers. Chapter 1: Unforseen Circumstances.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you,”

The bar was quiet but those words spoken by the man in front of you was the loudest thing you’ve ever heard. You watched as he scoffed slightly, gave a small smile and looked into the brown liquid in front of him, “I mean it, I thought I’ve loved people before but you,” He finally looked up and met your eyes, “I love you. With every part of my heart,” A smile broke out on your face, “Awh Rafael, I never knew you to be such a sap,” You joked, bumping your knee into the ADA’s own, “But I love you too,”

“Come on, pick up, please pick up,” You whispered as you sat on the white tiled floor. Your back against the cubicle door, facing the porcelain toilet in front of you. The phone once again diverted to message bank and you could have screamed. You felt the frustration build up in your chest as you felt the lump in your throat grow. Your call list showed the same phone number repeated every minute for what seemed like a lifetime, but your clock showed it was only twenty. The small device laying on the ground beside you made the lump grow thicker, it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You were so tired, your heart was about to jump out of your chest. Pregnant. 5+

You needed air, you needed to get out of the small cubicle and to think. You needed someone, you needed anyone. You needed him. “You in here?” You heard the familiar Staten Island voice call out. You had left your partner waiting by your desk with a rushed apology and an accidental shoulder bump. As the door creaked open, Sonny Carisi's eyes scanned the dimly lit restroom, searching for any sign of his missing colleague. His concern spiked as he spotted your figure huddled on the floor, phone abandoned beside you.

"Hey, what's wrong? What’s happened?" Sonny's voice was soft, laced with worry as he approached you cautiously. His heart sank at the sight of your distressed face, the anxiety evident in every line. For as long as he had known you, you had always had a strong façade. Whether it be in the face on a perp or a victim, you never showed your game face. He used to joke about being the poker champion due to him never being able to accurately guess how you were feeling but now as you looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, and in that moment, he knew something was dangerously wrong. Without hesitation, Sonny dropped to his knees beside you, his hand reaching out to gently grasp yours.

"I've been trying to reach him," You choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "But he's not answering. I don't know what to do, Sonny,” Your throat tightened again, the panic bubbling in your chest, “I can’t do this without him, I don’t know what to do.” Sonny could see the tears well up in your eyes as you placed your face in your hands, trying to hold back the inevitable tears that were about to start flowing down your face. “Wha-what do you mean? What’s wrong?” He asked, his hand moving to your back, starting to rub small circles on it. His eyes drifted down to where the pregnancy test sat, his eyes widening slightly at the words written on it. “I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do,” You sobbed out.

Sonny's heart clenched at the desperation in your tone. He knew who you were referring to, knew the significance of those unanswered calls. Rafael Barba, the man you loved, the father of your unborn child.

"Hey, hey," Sonny murmured soothingly, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "We'll figure this out, okay? We can sort this out. We can sort everything out, But right now, let's get you off this floor and somewhere a bit more comfortable."

With Sonny's help, you rose unsteadily to your feet, leaning heavily against him for support. As you exited the restroom, Sonny kept a reassuring arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to your desk where your belongings lay forgotten.

"I'll drive you home," Sonny offered quietly, his gaze filled with unwavering support. "Or wherever you need to go. I’ll let Liv know you’re not feeling too well and I’m taking you home."

You nodded gratefully, feeling a rush of gratitude for your friend's unwavering presence in this moment of crisis.  As you gathered your things, you couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of fear and uncertainty that had settled over you like a suffocating blanket.

What if Rafael never answered your calls? What if he had left you alone to face this terrifying reality? It had been weeks since baby Drew and the trial, weeks since he had last seen you with a night of passion and a simple goodbye in the form of a kiss on the forehead, it had been weeks since you had even heard his voice. Was he avoiding you? Had you done something wrong? A part of you wondered if you should have reached out to his mother in case something had happened to him but another part of you screamed about how intrusive that was. You had only met the woman once in the short time you had been together.

The drive back to your apartment was a blur of city lights and distant sirens, the silence between you and Sonny heavy with unspoken words. You found solace in his silent companionship, his presence a source of comfort considering how your life had blown up with just one night. Your stomach was still in knots, still wondering what your plan was going to be. Were you going to keep it? Could you even be a mother? Could you handle pregnancy and all the pain you go through? Doubt seeped into your mind as you tried to think of yourself as a mother, could you put aside everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve for the sake of a tiny human?

When you finally arrived home, Sonny helped you inside, his steady hand on your lower back was a lifeline in the darkness. As you sank onto the couch, exhaustion washing over you like a tidal wave, Sonny hovered nearby, "I'll stay with you if you’d like," Sonny promised softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "For as long as you need me. They don’t need me back at work just yet,” “What do I do Sonny?” You whispered as he came to sit next to you.

Sonny settled beside you, his presence a comforting weight in your life. He glanced at you with a mixture of concern and determination in his eyes, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered your question.

"We'll figure it out together," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the uncertainty clouding your thoughts. "First things first, you need to take care of yourself. I can make you some tea or grab you something to eat if you want. Then, we can talk about what you want to do next."

You nodded, grateful for his offer of support. As Sonny busied himself in the kitchen, you couldn't help but replay the events of the evening in your mind. Rafael's absence weighed heavily on your heart, leaving you with a gnawing sense of emptiness. You checked your phone once again, shoulders slumping slightly when the notifications remained the same as earlier. Your finger hovered over the call button, wondering if maybe he was just busy those few times but you knew, deep in your heart, that that wasn’t it at all. He was avoiding you all together. Sonny returned with a steaming mug of tea, placing it gently in your hands before taking a seat beside you once more. His expression softened with empathy when he saw you throwing your phone lazily on the table in front of you,  he reached out to squeeze your hand reassuringly, reminding you that even if Rafael wasn’t there, you at least had someone by your side.

"I just don't understand why he's not answering," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "We were supposed to be in this together, he told me that he would always be there no matter what but now...I don't even know if he knows. I sent him a text with what’s going on but he hasn’t even seen it."

"I wish I had all the answers for you," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "But what I do know is that you're not alone in this. No matter what happens, I'll be here for you every step of the way. Doctors appointments, if you decide what you’re going to do, whether that be recovery or needing snacks at 3am you just ring me and I’ll be there. Always. "

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, overwhelmed by the depth of his unwavering support. In that moment, you realized just how lucky you were to have someone like Sonny by your side, someone who would stand by you through the hardest moments of your life. At what first started as partners, with you mocking his moustache on his first day and him giving it back just as hard, to you now being each other’s confidants; you’d almost go so far as to say you were best friends. Almost.

"Thank you, Sonny," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He offered you a small, understanding smile, his eyes filled with compassion. "You don't have to do this alone," he said firmly. "We'll do this together, I promise."

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

More Precious Than Rubies: Part 7a

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: 5046

TW: Idiots in love; angst; hurt feelings and apologies; talk of cheating; talk of panic attacks.

AN: The prompt was "I came here to explain what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen."

You weren’t sure if it was possible to feel worse about yourself, but over the next few weeks, you sunk to new lows.  You were always so good about thinking before speaking – you always had a thoughtful, measured approach to your words.  You knew that words could be a weapon.  They could cut deep or hit with a heavy weight.

Your flippant, unkind comment to Barba had been like a cudgel.  He hadn’t done a single thing wrong.  He had looked so hurt when he left you that night, and you felt like a complete asshole.

You tried sending him a few texts – he read them, but never replied.  You called twice and left voicemails.  You knew this was probably karma for the way you shut Sonny out when you’d broken up.  That thought – that Sonny had probably tried to reach out to you too, and you had ignored him – gave you fresh waves of shame.

You saw Barba a few times at the courthouse, but he pointedly ignored you.  More shame.

All told, you were probably at the lowest you’d been in a while.  You had a terrible case – a seventeen year old being held at Rikers who hadn’t even been formally charged with anything yet.  Your father had called a couple times and you’d missed each call.  You had a tension headache that hung with you for a week, never loosening its grip on you.

And you felt terrible about Barba.  You could logic out a lot of why you’d been an asshole.  First Jason, then Sonny – wonderful boyfriends until they just stopped loving you or wanting you.  Barba had just been a fun hookup at first.  When he tried to start a feelings talk with you, your stomach had dipped pleasantly for a split second before it twisted.  If he was developing feelings for you, then it’d be a short journey from that to breaking up, hurting you. 

In other words, Barba might have feelings for you now.  In a year, he’d be out of love with you and cheating (like Jason) or out of love with you and possibly cheating (like Sonny).  There was something about you that reeled men in, but they never stuck around.  Why bothering signing up for future pain just for a bit of affection now? 

Still, the guilt weighed on you.  Barba was a good man, after all, and it would have been be all too easy to fall for him.  You remembered how he had comforted you that day in SVU, when you’d seen a pregnant Rollins and assumed the baby was Sonny’s.  You remembered how Barba hadn’t said a single snarky thing, taking you to lunch instead and being perfectly kind and consoling.

You remembered all the times you argued, but how he had smiled at you like he enjoyed it.  You remembered how he used to call you “Girl Wonder,” but then took to calling you “Fordham law” until he found out about your other nickname - then how he’d call you “Sparky” with a wide grin.

You remembered how it felt when you danced with him at the swanky lawyer event.

You needed to see Barba.  At the very least, you needed to apologize, and if he didn’t stalk away from you with cold fury in his green eyes, maybe you could explain yourself too.

*****

Barba felt like shit.  He’d gone over to your apartment with the intention of broaching the topic of maybe being more than just hookup buddies.  It had been getting harder and harder to pretend that it was just physical for him anymore.  Even when you got dressed and left him, he spent the rest of the night thinking about you. 

Every encounter, he managed to learn a new bit of information about you.  You couldn’t cook, apparently.  You had been training for a half-marathon but had abandoned it because of work.  You didn’t sleep well.  You lost pens at an alarming rate, which was why you just used cheap rollerballs instead of fancy fountain pens.  You knew the best swear words in five different languages, because you had a weird aversion to swearing in English.  You read your favorite book, ‘Possession’ by A.S. Byatt, once a year, usually over Christmas.

It wasn’t enough for him anymore.  He wanted to sleep with you after sex.  He wanted to fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up in the morning to wild hair and bad breath and multilingual swearing at the alarm.  He wanted to go to dinner with you and get to know you better than the scavenging of facts that he was doing currently.

You did not feel the same way.  You’d made a snarky comment about hate-fucking that cut him to his core, and he got out of there as quickly as he could.  You’d stammered out some half-assed apology, and he wondered if you even realized what you were saying when you said it.  Still, it hurt.

He ignored your texts and calls.  When he felt you nearby at the courthouse – and he could:  you were like a storm rolling in, making every inch of his skin hypersensitive to a changing weather front – he kept his gaze carefully ahead of him.

When you stopped calling and texting, he tried to put it all behind him.

-----

It was a Wednesday, late-morning.  Barba was in his office and going through a stack of potential cases that McCoy may or may not want to take to trial.  Barba took notes, summarized each case, and sent them up to his boss to decide, depending on which way the political winds were blowing.  It was a quiet day otherwise. 

Until it wasn’t.  Barba heard you before he saw you.  Clear as day, he heard you walk up to Carmen and ask if he was in and available, and when Carmen answered, you blew into his office without even knocking.  You, better than anyone, should know enough to at least knock, but you were like a storm.  Blowing up out of the blue like a summer squall.

Carmen was on your heels, but Barba stood and nodded at his assistant to let her know it was okay.  Carmen shut the door behind her, and Barba looked at you with an impassive gaze.

You were in tailored pants and a cashmere sweater – the weather was colder and you probably didn’t have court today.  Your hair was down, and the overall effect was that you looked more casual.  But you also looked tired, except for your bright eyes gazing back at him.

“Before you kick me out,” you said, holding up a hand to preemptively silence him.  “I came here to explain what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen.”

“So explain,” he said.  He sat back down and looked at his notes.  He couldn’t bear to look at your face.  It still hurt too much, your cruel rejection.

“I’m sorry,” you said, and your voice was soft.  He glanced up and saw the remorse on your face, and he felt his own resolve weaken just a bit.

But only a bit.  “I know,” he said, terse.  “I got your texts.”

You hung your head, and your loose hair swung down so that you had to brush it back and re-tuck it behind your ear.  “When I said…what I said, that evening…” you started.  You took a deep breath before you continued.  “I was judging you unfairly against…other people.  Other situations.  It wasn’t fair to say that.  Or to treat you like that.”  Another pause, another deep breath.  “You’ve been nothing but nice, and I…wasn’t nice to you.”

Barba snorted at that last bit.  “You’re lying.  I’ve been other things that ‘nice.’  I wasn’t nice when I fled your place that first time.”

You gave him a small smile at that.  “Well, true.  You’ve been nice, but also frustrating and annoying.”  Your smile slipped, and you added, “but more than anything, you’ve been nice.”

He didn’t say anything, so you fidgeted for a moment, picked at an invisible bit of lint on your sweater.  Then you continued.  “I like you, Barba.  A lot.  It’s just…I’m not very good at dating.  I’m unlucky.  I have…baggage…”

His stomach did a curious turn when you admitted that you liked him, but before you could continue or he could interrupt, his office door swung open to admit both Olivia and SVU’s new guy.  Dodds.  You turned, startled, at the intrusion.

“We interrupting?” Dodds asked, and Barba murmured a “no” while you shook your head.  The two detectives watched you as you nodded first at Barba, then at them, then left the office altogether.

********

You had your chance to talk to Barba, and you had managed to apologize.  You had even managed to explain yourself, a little, before SVU interrupted.

It would have to be enough.

You still felt terrible, but it was the best you could do.  Besides, in the entirety of your bad feelings, you could only afford so much bandwidth to Barba.  You had other things to feel badly about.

There was your father, locked up in Missouri.  You kept missing his calls, and it wasn’t like you could exactly call him back where he was.  You sent him a quick letter explaining that you were busy in court and not ignoring him – it was important that he knew you weren’t abandoning him.  Everyone else in your family had.

There was your case load, crushing in the best of times, but you had a case that was especially terrible.  Your client was locked up in Rikers, and half the time when you went to visit him, the guards made it unnecessarily difficult:  once your client was in lock-down, once he was put into a holding cell on the other side of the complex.  And your client shouldn’t even be in jail – he was accused of shoplifting, but he was dirt poor and couldn’t make bail.  You filed motion after motion, but you were low on the docket and in the meantime, your client was suffering.

There was your health in general:  you weren’t sleeping at all.  You couldn’t fall asleep because of your racing thoughts, and in the rare occasion that you did nod off before two in the morning, your dreams were unsettling.  You didn’t have much of an appetite anymore, and you found yourself shaking from hunger sometimes, or nauseous from low blood sugar.

And your panic attacks had resurfaced with a vengeance.  You tried to will them away, and then you tried to make an appointment with your doctor, but he couldn’t see you for three months.  So you managed them as best you could, which meant that you found little hiding places all around the city, places that you could be alone and let the panic attacks tear through you without an audience. 

When you went to SVU, there was a file room a floor up that you could hide in.  Other precincts had other places to hide – cleaning closets, boiler rooms, ladies rest rooms in precincts full of men and, therefore, rarely used.

At the courthouse, there were the stairwells.  Almost no one took the stairs, so you weathered your attacks there, mostly alone.

*****

Barba wasn’t sure where he stood with you after you left his office.  He would have tried to reassure you – maybe call you “Girl Wonder” again to let you know that you’d lost ground but that he still liked you – but he didn’t see you.  Your schedules were out of sync again:  you seemed to be on a stretch with Major Crimes, dealing with assaults and a few burglaries and other minor, petty stuff.

You weren’t at the wine bar either.  He went there more, hoping to see you, but you never turned up.

You had looked sad that day in his office, and if he were honest, he had forgiven you once you apologized.  He knew the walls you had up, and he knew the baggage you carried from past relationships.  He could have pointed out that it had been unfair to judge him against past boyfriends, but hadn’t he done the same in his life?  How many subsequent girlfriends had suffered because of Yelina?  How many relationships had ended because Barba assumed that he’d be cheated on eventually?

He forgave you because he had been exactly in the same spot you were in – but with less insight.  If you had done some soul-searching and realized what you’d done, maybe there was hope for you yet. 

If he saw you again, he’d tell you as much. 

But the next time he saw you was at the courthouse.  You were in your usual courtroom suit, but with thicker tights against the drafty building and cool weather outside.  You shoved your way out of a conference room, and you half-walked, half-jogged towards the stairwell.  You walked right past him, but you didn’t see him because your head was down.

He saw you though:  your face was wan, and your hands were balled into fists along your sides.  You shoved the fire door open to the stairwell, but in the moment before it slammed shut behind you, he didn’t hear your heels clicking on the steps.

He made his way over to the door and listened for a moment.  At first, he didn’t hear anything – but he could feel you.  You still carried that electric charge with you, and he swore he could feel it through the metal door.

Then he heard it – quiet sniffling, and shuddering, ragged breaths, like someone crying but trying to do it quietly. 

Barba considered his options – he could leave you alone, or he could go to you.  It wasn’t really much of a choice, though. 

He pushed open the door carefully, and you were standing there on the landing, leaning against the wall.  You were startled, and you looked up at him with glassy eyes.  Your wan face was gone, replaced by a flushed lividity that didn’t look healthy.  You were pulling in great gasps of air, and his first thought was that you were having an asthma attack.  Stupidly, he reached for your bag, dangling limply from your hand.  He thought maybe you needed an inhaler or something, but you slid down the wall into an awkward sitting position on the landing, and your legs were bent at an uncomfortable looking angle under you.

He knelt in front of you in alarm.  “Do you need an ambulance?” he asked, but you shook your head. 

Between your hyperventilating, you answered him.  “It…will…pass.”  Then he noticed your trembling hands, and he realized what it was.  Not an asthma attack after all.

“C’mere,” he said, and he helped you move until you were sitting on the edge of the stairs.  He laid a gentle hand on your upper back and guided your head to your knees, folding your body in half and cutting off some of the air you were hyperventilating on.  Your breathing calmed, but you still trembled uncontrollably.  Barba, for his part, just put an arm around your shaking shoulders, and he waited for your panic attack to pass.

It eventually did, and you raised your head to glance at him.  “Sorry,” you mumbled, not quite making eye contact with him.  Your voice was ragged.  He kept his arm around you, and he gave a quiet laugh. 

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked.

You gave a feeble shrug.  “It’s embarrassing.”

He laughed again and gave you a comforting squeeze.  “Sure.  Wouldn’t want anyone to know that the Girl Wonder is human after all.”

You glanced at him again, this time with a small smile on your face.  “Don’t tell anyone.”  You turned to face him a bit, your eyes searching his face, and your smile fell.  “Barba, I’m so sorry.”  He knew, from the sorrow in your eyes and the way your voice cracked on the last word, that you weren’t apologizing for the panic attack.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, and he pulled you against him in a sort of side hug as you sniffled and hung your head.

“It isn’t.  I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“Well, I forgive you,” he replied.  You sat together in a moment of quiet, the sounds of the courthouse muffled in the stairwell.  “Luckily for you, mercy is sexually transmitted,” he added with a smirk.

“What?”  You pulled away from him in surprise and turned to look at him.

“Turns out I caught it from a bleeding heart public defender,” he continued.  He grinned as the woebegone look on your face was replaced by an expression somewhere south of scandalized.  Then you laughed – really laughed, deep in your belly until you were swiping away fresh tears from your eyes.

“What’s the incubation period on that, exactly?” you asked, and your voice was shaky again, but at least it was from laughter and not panic or shame.  “Is there a cure?’

Barba shook his head sadly.  “It’s terminal, sadly.  The best we can do is resign ourselves to a life of compassion and clemency.”

You smiled at him, and then you smacked him lightly on his knee.  “How dare you make me laugh,” you scolded him.  “I was committed to feeling maudlin for at least another month.”

“Don’t do that on my account.  That’s an order.”

Your smiled widened.  “You’re not the boss of me, Barba.”

He released his hold on you and stood up, and he went and picked up your bag from the landing.  He held his hand out to you to help you stand, and he watched you brush yourself off and smooth your hair.  Then he handed you your bag, and you murmured your thanks.

“I’m not your boss, but here’s another order:  go home early and take it easy.”  He hesitated, and added, “I know that panic attacks can wear you out.”

You looked at him thoughtfully and then nodded.  “Maybe I will.”  You started to turn to leave but paused, rethinking it.  You turned back and surprised him by wrapping your arms around him for a sweetly chaste hug.  He froze for a moment and then hugged you back, savoring the feeling of you in his arms.  When you broke away a moment later, you ducked your head, almost shyly, and thanked him again.  And then you left.

-----

He finished out the day with you in the forefront of his mind.  He imagined you at home, curled up in your pajamas with a cup of tea, but then he revised the mental image.  You and he were too similar.

What did Barba do after a panic attack?  He went back to work.  He would be willing to bet his paycheck that you had gone back to work too.

Your office wasn’t too far from his own, so when he wrapped up for the day, he took a slight detour to your sad office building.  There was a lone light burning, and Barba swore it was yours.  Probably.

He dialed your cell, and you picked up on the third ring.  “Feeling better?” he asked, skipping over the formalities.  “Relaxing at home?”

“Yes,” you replied.  “And…yes.”

Barba smirked.  “So you’re not at work?”

A pause.  “No.”

“Liar.  I can see your office light on.”

Another pause, and a disbelieving huff of laughter.  “Creep.  Are you watching my office?  Do I need to call SVU on you?”

“It’s a good thing you’re not a prosecutor, Sparky,” he replied.  “What a flimsy case you’re pushing here.  Textbook circumstantial evidence.”

Another huff of laughter, and he continued before you could return his volley.  “Wrap up and get down here.  Coincidentally, I’m parked out on the street in front of your building.  I’ll give you a ride home.”  He paused and looked at the clock on his car’s dashboard.  “If you get here in the next five minutes, I’ll buy you dinner.”  He hung up.

He timed you – you were sliding into his passenger’s seat with a playful glare in all of three minutes.

*****

When Barba forgave you, you felt a massive weight lift off of you.  You still felt the sharp sting of guilt, and maybe you’d always feel a bit of shame, but if anything, you hoped it would be a caution for you to always measure your words before you spoke.

His forgiveness also made you feel something else, unexpected:  a slender bit of hope.  You knew now that you had feelings for him – you were able to admit that much to yourself.  As you sat across from him at the sushi restaurant he took you to, you allowed yourself to explore those feelings just a bit.

On the shallow side of things, he was painfully handsome.  He was amazing in bed, and you readily admitted that the two of you had great chemistry together.

More profoundly, though:  he was kind.  He didn’t present that way – he came across as arrogant and snide – but it didn’t take much to realize that he was a good-hearted man.  Maybe the arrogance was a sort of armor, or maybe it was for the benefit of his role as a hard-hitting prosecutor, but the reality was that he was unbearable thoughtful and gentle every time you fell apart in front of him. 

If you’d had a panic attack in front of Sonny, for example, you would have probably felt more ashamed of it.  But in front of Barba, there was a bit of embarrassment, but his arm around you had been comforting.  And he joked with you – and implied that he had the same issue.  That it wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about. 

You wondered about his dating past.  He seemed like someone who should have been snapped up and married off young, to a high school sweetheart maybe, but he led a pretty monkish life.  Aside from hooking up with you, of course.  Other than that, you didn’t know of a single girlfriend or boyfriend or casual fling, and you knew more gossip about New York lawyers than you cared to admit.

Now, at dinner, you ate and chatted like old friends.  You didn’t even talk about work – he told you about his favorite book, his favorite movie, and asked you about your own.  You realized that he was trying to get to know you better, and it gave you a pleasant, warm flush.

You realized that you were both Vonnegut fans, and you finished dinner and ordered dessert – a sampler of mochi that you split – and you argued over which Vonnegut was the best.

“Slaughterhouse-Five, hands down,” he said.

You shook your head.  “No way.  His essays are the best, and his short stories are a close second.  Harrison Bergeron?  Come on, Barba, there’s no contest.”

“His essays are so bleak,” he protested.

“And a book about reliving the firebombing of Dresden is a playful romp?”

You caught the smile he tried to hide as he raised his glass to finish his whiskey.  “Are you going to argue with me on everything?”

“Stop being wrong on everything and I’ll stop arguing with you,” you retorted with a smile.

“Hmm,” he replied.  “Let me think of something we can agree on.  What are your thoughts on politics?”

You leaned forward.  “The further left, the better.  Anarchy and free rides for all.”

He snorted.  “I’m further left than you give me credit for, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s probably even some overlap in our beliefs,” he added.

You spooned another scoop of mochi and let it dissolve in a wash of sweetness on your tongue.  “So, here’s the question.  As a New Yorker, the political quandary of our time:  in the last mayoral race, did you vote for the Wall Street fat cat or the left-leaning pervert with child porn on his phone?”

His grin fell instantly, and you knew you’d overstepped, but you weren’t sure how.  Your mind raced to figure out where you messed up – Alex Muñoz had been an SVU case, but you remembered O’Dwyer in all the press conferences when it went to trial.  It hadn’t been Barba’s case…

“I wrote myself in on that ballot,” he said, and he tried to smile but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You sighed and laid your spoon down, your appetite gone.  “What did I say wrong?  I thought that was O’Dwyer’s case, and anyway, Muñoz pled out halfway through trial…”

“Alex was my friend,” Barba said quietly, cutting you off.  “My best friend.  We grew up together in the Bronx.  I supervised SVU’s case against him in the beginning.”

“I didn’t know that.”

He nodded.  “Well, there were some press conferences that called me out by name.  You probably didn’t see them, or didn’t remember.”  He winced.  “But my family did.  My neighborhood.  And they have long memories.”

You tried to think back to that time.  You remembered the press conferences, of course, because they were like any other press conference where a politician got caught being a sleaze:  contrite but vowing to fight, with a stony-faced wife standing beside him because she had to.  Muñoz had been the same, standing beside his gorgeous, disappointed wife.  But that’s all you remembered – none of the content.

“I knew his wife too.  Yelina.”  The way he said it made you look at him closer – his face was downturned as he ran his finger restlessly around the rim of his empty glass. 

“You grew up with her too?” you asked gently.

He nodded again.  “Alex was my best friend.  And Yelina…was my first love.”

“Ah.”

There was a long beat of silence.  “She thought I was targeting Alex specifically,” he continued.  “As revenge.  Because she left me for him.  Years ago.  A lifetime ago.”

You reached out to take his free hand, the one that wasn’t fussing with his glass.  You grasped it gently and gave him a reassuring squeeze.  “I’m sure she realized deep down that you were caught between a rock and a hard place, and her husband was literally caught with child porn…”

He shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  She was always blinded by him.”  He twisted his mouth into a sardonic smile.  “Alex had the charm.”  He looked down at your hands, intertwined as they were, and he gave himself a little shake.  “Sorry.  This isn’t how I planned on the evening going,” he said, and when he smiled this time it reached his eyes. 

You cocked a suggestive eyebrow at him.  “How did you plan on it going, counselor?”

He didn’t return the suggestive look, though.  He replied earnestly, “I planned on asking you out on a proper date.  I didn’t plan on rambling about ancient history.”

“Ancient history came up organically,” you said.  You tried to ignore your heart hammering in your chest at Barba wanting to ask you out, properly.  “You need to balance the scales, hear about my first love?  His name was Wayne Crawford, it was the second grade, and when I tried to hold his hand during a school assembly, he shoved me and said I smelled like hot dogs.”

He chuckled at that, and you added, “there was no press conference though.”

But you felt…trusted, like a confidant, that Barba had opened up to you, even if it was unplanned.  So you added, more seriously, “my first real love, though, was Jason.  Undergraduate at Fordham.  We dated for a couple of years, and I found out he cheated on me for most of it.”

You glanced up to see Barba staring at you, but he had a sympathetic look on his face.  You felt uncomfortable to open up, like you were exposing a raw nerve that might get irritated, but he had opened up to you.  Quid pro quo.  Give and take.  You had learned that much from your failed relationship with Sonny:  you had to open up more, take more leaps of faith.

“Well, I’m not a cheater,” Barba finally said.  You smiled at him, and he continued, a sly look creeping across his handsome features.  “And you got that hot dog smell problem sorted out now, so we’re good.”

You plucked your hand from his with as much dignity as you could muster, and you feigned like you were getting up to leave, so Barba reached out to snag your hand again, holding you tight.

“Does Friday or Saturday night work better for you?” he asked, and while he still smiled at you, his voice sounded earnest.

You wavered before you answered.  “Are you sure?  Even after what I said?”

Barba flagged down the waiter for the check, and he handed off his credit card to settle the bill.  “You don’t seem to understand ‘forgiveness’ as a concept,” he told you.  You shrugged a little ruefully, and he kept going.  “Firstly, you forgave me when I fled the scene our first night together.  You didn’t make me grovel.”

He paused as the waiter returned his card, and you watched as Barba signed the slip with a flourish.  Then he picked up the thread of conversation.

“Secondly, I have people march into my office all day, every day and say rude things to me.  I’m always being accused of being too political or too cautious, or not smart enough to find legal loopholes.  The Muñoz case?  I got it as bad from SVU as I did from Alex.  And I never get an apology.  Not a real one, anyway.”  He sighed, and you could see how his job did wear on him, much like yours did to you.

“So it was novel, getting a real apology from you,” he said.  “And thirdly, I understand now why you said what you did, so I probably would have forgiven you even without an apology.”

You hung your head a little.  “I’m so….”

“…sorry, yes.  I got that,” he cut you off to finish your sentence, his voice dry.  “So Friday or Saturday?”

When you took too long to answer (caught between wanting to see him on Friday, but worried that you’d be too tired from the work week), he casually added a third option.  “Or both?”

Your broad grin, wide enough that it hurt your cheeks to smile that wide, was all the answer he needed.  Both.

[narcissuslecter]

hey babes, it's me, your fave internet menace, will graham smokes truther, writer who has been writing again but very slowly!

i've been crazy busy with work and life but i have also been watching sooo much svu and i started watching house so like... house/hilson fics soon??

anyways, on the writing side of things, i've been writing like a beast but im also self critical as ever so it's a fight! but baby we got as needed chapter 3 coming up soon, some angsty carisi for all u svu babes.

for u hannigram babes we got fics for u too, bunch of songfics bc unfortunately, it's what i do best. lots of music, lots of messy power dynamics, lots of smut <3

and don't think i forgot about u criminal minds babes, there is some stuff in the workssss.

all that rambling aside, send me headcanon reqs, send me asks!

be gay, see u next time <3