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thatesqcrush · 2 months ago

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

Priest! Barba x f! reader | SVU au

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

WC: 8.6K

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

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

Prologue:

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Ch. 1—

*six months earlier*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

This new neighborhood was already looking up.

—

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

‘No,’ his brain argued. ‘No.’

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

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

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

He was truly alone.

So what was an acquitted, former ADA to do?

He prayed.

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

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

Was it God? Was it the Devil?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until you just now.

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

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

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

‘Fucking hell, get a grip.’

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

‘Oh for fuck’s sake.’

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

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

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

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

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

“Years,” you supplied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait - what? He’s a priest?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

The following morning you found yourself at church with Maria.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh how you wanted to.

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

‘Behave,’ you told yourself.

“Did you now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was so screwed.

God almighty help him.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

Self pleasure was also a no-no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, right there. Just like that.”

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

“You like that?”

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you’d beg. “Please.”

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

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

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

‘Shit.’

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

Rafael was stunned. It was you.

‘Focus.’

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

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

Rafael swallowed hard. “Go on.”

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rafael wracked his mind on what to say.

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

—

Sunday mass came like clockwork.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘God damnit, what are you doing?’

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought priests could only drink church wine.”

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

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

‘I bet my cock will go down easy.’

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

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

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

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

“The truth is?” Rafael prodded.

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

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

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

“You don’t practice anymore?”

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

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

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

And that bottle of Macallan?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t play dumb.”

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

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

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

“The how?”

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

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

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

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

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

You let out a whine. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You looked back up at him with wide eyes.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you’re on date then?”

You looked at him incredulously. “Rafael—“

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

“He’s just— you and I— we never…

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

“Don’t you have to take a vow of poverty?” you asked as you grabbed some of the drinks. Rafael grabbed the remainder and the two of you walked back to the booth.

“One of the most common misconceptions about the Catholic priesthood is that all priests take a vow of poverty. In fact, most do not. Diocesan priests do not even make vows, they make “promises” of obedience to their bishop: chastity and to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Vows, on the other hand, are typically made by members of religious orders, such as Franciscans, Benedictines, Dominicans, etc.”

You nodded. “Got it.”

You walked ahead of Rafael, a sway in your hips as you did so. Rafael’s eyes narrowed and he sucked in a breath as he followed, exhaling slowly.

When your date - Eric - as he later learned - began mouthing off about theology and religion, Rafael rolled his eyes. Still, he wasn’t going to let himself get bested and using the skills he acquired from all the cross examinations he had ever done, basically annihilated the other guy. You snickered behind the glass of your drink but Rafael saw it and felt his chest puff.

At one point - Eric whispered something in your ear. Whatever he said was enough to make you blush and shift in your seat, smiling to yourself like you had a secret. Rafael didn’t miss it at all and he felt himself stiffen and his jaw tighten. Your eyes met once more, and you witnessed the visceral reaction he was having, saw that little flex of his jaw and the way his eyes glittered with something primal and possessive. You could see that part of him would gladly punch Eric, and even as Rafael’s eyes locked with yours, he didn't hide it. Briefly, the kind and generous priest was all gone. Even the smart and sassy lawyer was superseded: you saw the man, capable of lust and jealousy. Over you. The thought of inspiring those feelings in him made heat pool in your body, and you squeezed your thighs together. His eyes registered your expression: you were certain he knew how you felt.

By end of the night, you went to hug him good night but Rafael dodged you. You frowned and bid him adieu as he dipped his head in acknowledgement. Rafael continued to head home - and had he turned around, he would have seen you still standing, watching him.

Another week went by.

The pounding on the door stirred Rafael awake. He looked over at the clock - it was a little after midnight. A breeze blew through, causing a chill to run through his body.

He tugged a t-shirt on and groused that he was on his way.

Rafael was not expecting to see you.

“Father,” you greeted. There was a very large bottle of Macallan in your hand. Your eyes trailed over the very sleepy priest in front of you. His hair was askew and he looked adorable. You swallowed at his tight white shirt and low slung gray sweats.

“What is going on?” Rafael asked. He reached in his pocket for his glasses.

“Fancy a chat about my existential crisis?” You thrusted the bottle of scotch into his arms and walked in, pushing slightly past him.

Rafael got a whiff of your shampoo and it sent all blood straight immediately to his cock. He looks back outside and satisfied not seeing anyone else, closes the door behind him. “Existential crisis?”

“Do you have any glasses?” You ask, ignoring his question, as you look around. You hadn’t ever been inside a priest’s dwelling and you were surprised at how normal it appeared.

“Wow.” You stopped misstep and looked around. “This is not what I expected.”

Rafael rubbed his neck. “Huh? Oh, what did you expect it to look like?”

“I don’t know. More holy? Crosses everywhere. Stacks of bibles? Not something out of an architectural digest - with a kitchen island!”

Rafael laughed. He took the bottle from your hand and walked over to the island where he placed the glasses. “A lot of this is from…” he waved his arm around. “Before.”

“Pre-priest Rafael.” You clarified as you walked over to where he was and took an amber filled glass.

“Yeah,” Rafael replied before taking a long drag of his drink.

You nodded and hummed before taking another sip. “When you were just a man. Who had sex. A lot.”

“I’m still a man.”

“Come on, you know it’s not the same.”

You knew better. You knew you shouldn’t.

What would your friends say, what would they do if they ever find out? What about the congregation and surrounding community?

This was bigger than you, bigger than him. What were you thinking?

But it’s Rafael. Fr. Rafael Barba. Not that it matters - he’s not actually yours. He belongs to God.

But now when he’s staring down at you the way he is right now, teeth catching his full bottom lip, sleep-tousled hair and stormy, smoldering eyes, you can’t help but fall from grace.

“Kiss me.”

“You know we can’t.”

“So? Kiss me anyway.”

“I’m a priest.”

“Kiss me anyway.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Rafael swallowed the remainder of his drink and let out a huff. He pointed a finger toward you. “You…you’re trouble.”

You closed the gap between you and him. The room felt electric. You pressed your hands onto his chest. “So? Kiss me anyway.”

Rafael sucked in a breath. You press yourself even closer, your hips automatically seeking his. Rafael pushed you away gently. “I told you we can’t. I told you I can’t.”

“Why are you denying what’s between us?” Your hands shook as you poured yourself another glass. You turned and leaned against the island. “God made us to be sexual creatures. It’s his design. It’s his idea, his gift to us.”

Rafael sighed in irritation. “Our sexual desires are no surprise to God. He made us, and He gave us a strong sexual desire to enjoy within the proper context.” He pointed to you and then to himself. “This is not the proper context. If I wasn’t a priest, then it would be different. This is real life. What we do has real consequences.”

“If you weren’t a priest,” you murmured. You swallowed the remainder of your drink and slammed it on the island. Warmth flooded your body and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or him or a combination of both. Likely the latter. “Tell me you want me. Tell me I was never imagining things.”

Rafael remained silent.

“You have the right to lose control. I know you think—”

“You don’t know what I think,” Rafael acerbically spat. “And no, I don’t have the right.” He began to pace. “You don’t know the misery I live in when you’re not around.”

“And you think I am not?” you questioned. Your voice wavered and your eyes welled with unshed tears. “It’s never been like this with anyone. Never. I want you. I can’t have you. But please - let me live in the solace that you want me too. That I was never imagining any of it. I am going crazy.”

Rafael paused mid-stride and looked at you. He took a deep breath.

“What’s it gonna be? I am begging you.”

It was like something in him snapped when you said that. Rafael slammed his own drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He walked over and pressed you against the island. You let out a squeak in response. You could feel how hard he was against your belly. He brushed some of your hair back. Your breath hitched and a flush spread along your skin.

“Say it again.”

“Tell me you want me.”

“No - repeat what you said at the end,” he all but growled. You chewed your bottom lip and nodded.

“I beg you.”

“God help me. You beg so prettily,” Rafael murmured. He pulled at you, hands grabbing at hips, lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss. It was over before you could register and you pulled back to look into his eyes. You wrapped your hands on his face and then dove back in, returning the kiss, equally as hard.

The momentum was desperate, frenzied, hands everywhere. You let out a gasp as Rafael backed you against the kitchen island. The scruff of his beard dragged against your skin, his lips working your jaw, your ear, moving down your neck, and you let out a strained moan. You pressed your hips upwards into his, feeling his erection. Rafael had to stop and inhale sharply before resuming his attack on your skin. The tips of his fingers find skin under your shirt, and dig into your flesh. One of your hands is twisted in his shirt, the other grasping the waistband of his sweats as he felt a leg curve around his; it was as if your body functioned in tune to keep him as close as possible.

Rafael’s lips found purchase on the hollow of your neck. You let out a groan as you sagged against him, melting into his embrace. The want was overwhelming.

His hands made way to the front of your jeans and he nimbly undid the button and fly before shoving his large hand down your panties. “So wet for me.”

And you are. You’re so fucking wet, it’s obscene.

The tips of his fingers drag through your slit.

“Fuck,” his teeth scraped along your jaw. “You’re soaking.”

He slid two fingers deep inside of you. You keened wordlessly into his shoulder, biting down on his shoulder to suppress a moan.

“No, no, pretty lamb. Look at me,” Rafael husked, his voice laced with an edge of dominance.

You pulled back and met his gaze. His fingers drove deep up into you, pumping, long and needy. His thumb rubbed against your clit. Your blood is boiling, your body vibrating. You’re close. You know it. He knows it. His fingers continue their momentum, finding that spongey spot inside of you that most folks couldn’t ever find.

The walls of your pussy ripple against his fingers. “Be a good little lamb and come for me.” It was Rafael’s turn to beg. “Be my good girl and give it to me.”

You chanted his name as if it were prayer as you come around his fingers. Your body is abuzz, vibrating. You whine out his name in three syllables as you coat his hand with your arousal. Rafael swallowed your cries as he covered your mouth with his. The kiss, which was initially passionate, slowed in intensity, to just soft, slow licks that almost felt reverent, worshipful. Eventually he pressed his forehead to yours and you both drank in each other’s air, breathing heavily. You whimpered as Rafael removed his fingers from your cunt. You watched him with wide eyes as he slipped his fingers into his mouth. His eyes fluttered close as he let out an appreciative sound.

“Do I taste good, Father?” Your voice was laced with lust.

“My sweet, decadent little lamb,” Rafael complimented. “But we cannot do that again.”

“Do what?” You asked as you pushed him off slightly to give yourself room to drop to the floor. You palmed his cock through his pants, pleased with yourself as he groaned with want and need.

A car backfired and the sound caused you both to startle, effectively ending the spell. Rafael helped you up from the ground. “This cannot happen again.” His voice was firm. And before you could protest any more, you found yourself back outside, the door shutting in your face.

Rafael leaned against the door, his head pounding, his cock aching.

‘You idiot! You shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have given in to your melodic voice and sparkling eyes. You had no business being in his life.

But the crack he left open for you made him believe that he had more to lose now than when he met you at the block party all those moons ago.

He rubbed his face, tired and frustrated. And he went back to bed to once again to take matters in his own hands again. ‘Fuck.’

TBC.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba smut #priest kink #priest! rafael barba #priest! Barba x reader #law and order SVU au #law and order svu fanfic

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polkadotpenguin16 · 4 months ago

Text

The Five Stages of Grief: Prologue

Broken promises and unspoken words bring your relationship with Sonny Carisi to the edge. You both mourn what was lost and wonder if you can find each other again.

A/N: waaaay back in like March, I came to @misscharlielulu with a silly headcanon, and she helped evolve it into a full-fledged story. Massive shout-out to @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity who so kindly reviewed my drafts and gave me excellent notes. Extra huge thank you to both these lovelies <3

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: much angst; super brief mention of SVU-related violence; anti-Rollisi content; I am not a writer - this is literally the first story I’ve ever written, so read at your own risk

Word count: 3K+ (I know it’s long, I’m sorry!)

This was it – tonight was finally date night. It was long overdue. Two months and five days to be exact. Whenever you and Sonny tried making plans to spend some quality time together, things just never worked out. The first night, you two were supposed to see a movie and get some gelato. Sonny called around noon saying he wouldn’t be back in time. “No big deal,” you told him. You wanted to make him feel better since you knew he felt bad about canceling. The second night, you were going to try a new Chinese restaurant that opened near the Brooklyn apartment you shared. You had almost finished your makeup when he called to say a case just came in and it was all hands on deck.

“I’m sorry, doll. I know I’m letting you down again.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sonny.” You tried to keep your voice light. You didn’t want him to hear how disappointed you were. “You’ve got people who need your help. I get it. Your job’s more important than some greasy Chinese food.”

“It’s not more important than you.” You believed him, although a small part of you was beginning to have doubts. “I’m gonna make this up to you, I swear to God.”

Tonight was attempt number three, and he wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to make it up to you. He made reservations at a very nice restaurant in Midtown. “Only the best for my girl,” he told you earlier this week. “And I wanna see you in that red dress I love.”

That’s exactly what you were wearing. A velvet, off-the-shoulder dress with a skirt that whimsically twirled as you moved. You spent more than an hour curling your hair and putting on your makeup. You felt like a million bucks and couldn’t wait for him to see you.

You sat in a cushy booth, nursing a glass of rosé while waiting for Sonny to arrive. You really needed this time with him, and you were sure he felt the same way. Your paths had barely crossed recently between his late nights and early mornings. During the few moments you were able to connect, you noticed how distant he was. His furrowed brow was becoming a permanent fixture on his face. You were worried about him, afraid he was spreading himself too thin. His job seemed to be taking a toll on him.

That’s actually how you met. You were a receptionist at a small bank, and he showed up one day to interview your colleague. When he came back a week later for a follow-up, he asked you out for coffee. You knew the broad strokes of the kinds of cases he investigated, but anything he shared with you was surface-level. He told you he felt fulfilled helping the victims. He had gone to law school and passed the bar to become a better cop. He liked his colleagues: his lieutenant, the ADA, but especially his partner, Amanda.

From the few times you’d met, it was easy to see why Sonny was so fond of her. He told you she was one of the best detectives he’d ever worked with. She spoke very intelligently about her work. Her southern accent made her voice incredibly engaging, even if you didn’t completely understand the intricacies of the conversation. She was impressively quick-witted. She and Sonny were always cracking inside jokes that flew over your head. She was also very beautiful. Stunningly tall and her blonde hair was always perfectly primped.

Sonny also told you she was a single mother who didn’t have any support system here in New York, which is why he tried to help her out as much as he could. He’d offer to watch her kids or help her with errands. They often went out for drinks after they’d closed a case, whether it be a good one or bad one. Sonny and Amanda were exceptionally close…

And you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel insecure. You and Sonny would be having dinner together and he would be texting her on his phone, focused on a completely different conversation. She’d call evenings and weekends needing help and he’d drop everything to assist.

It made you feel inadequate.

You felt like you weren’t interesting enough to keep his attention. Weren’t smart enough to talk with him about his work. He didn’t trust you enough to confide in. Not like he did Amanda. All the things you felt like you lacked, you saw in her. Not that you would ever mention any of this to Sonny. How could you? She was his partner, his friend.

Best friend.

No one likes a jealous girlfriend. No, this was a “you” problem to sort out. You should just enjoy whatever time with him you have. Like tonight.

You took a break from picking apart your sourdough roll to check the time. 7:45. You tried not to worry – it wasn’t unlike Sonny to be a little late. You decided to wait a little longer before checking in. You didn’t want to nag.

8 o’clock rolled around and you couldn’t help it any longer, so you decided to shoot him a text.

Hi sunshine, let me know when you’re on your way :)

Another 30 minutes passed when your game of Candy Crush was interrupted by his reply.

Hey doll, I’m gonna be home late. I’m taking Rollins home and helping her get the kids in bed. You don’t have to wait up for me, I’ll see you in the morning.

You read the text again, and one more time to be certain. Because you must’ve been mistaken. He couldn’t have forgotten tonight, and he would never stand you up. Date nights were so important to Sonny. He used to text you all day about how excited he was, and he’d always show up early because he couldn’t wait to see you. Yet here you were. He ditched you for Amanda.

Again.

You asked the waiter to bring you the check for the drink you had. Utterly sick to your stomach, there was no way you would be ordering anything to eat, no matter how good the place smelled. You held back your tears and walked out of the restaurant to go home.

You kicked off your shoes when you arrived, then walked into the bathroom. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and paused. You saw your hair that you’d done up so nicely, your makeup that you spent so long trying to get just right, and your dress…that goddamn red dress.

You finally let yourself cry. The tears came hard and fast. You not-so-gracefully wiggled your dress off. It felt like you were in a straitjacket. Once you managed to get it unfastened, you chucked it into the hallway. You collapsed on the floor, overwhelmed by all the emotions you’d been holding back.

Disappointment, anger, betrayal. But more than anything, loneliness. And honestly, you’ve felt alone for a while. So many questions were floating in your head. Did he still love me? Did he ever? Or was Amanda always there between you? Did he…did he love her?

Your body began to shake. You were confronted by all the insecurities you’d been repressing. The walls of the bathroom felt like they were closing in. It was suffocating. The air was wrenched from your lungs as they squeezed tighter and tighter around you. You needed to get out of there.

You shakily stood up and started pacing frantically around your apartment. When you made it to the living room, you stopped in front of the fireplace. On the mantle were a dozen or so framed photos. Some of just you Sonny had taken, but most with both of you. At the park, at an Islander’s game, and your first anniversary. Seeing all these memories made you grieve the relationship you thought you had had.

Was it all a lie?

You weren’t sure anymore but knew you wouldn’t be able to figure anything out while in that apartment.

Through your tears, you scroll through your phone to find your best friend’s number. It was late, but she was a night owl, you knew she’d answer.

“What’s up, girlfriend?” You could hear her munching on chips and what sounded like a Star Wars movie playing in the background.

“Um, hey…” You tried to keep your voice even, but she saw right through it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She knew you too well.

“Nothing, I-I just…I hate to even ask…can I stay at your place?”

“Of course you can,” she soothed immediately. “You always have a place here. What’s going on?”

The story came out in a depressing, uninterrupted stream. You thought you’d feel lighter getting everything off your chest, but you didn’t.

“Oh, my God, that’s…wow.” You heard the shock at how Sonny had been acting turn into a sympathetic wince. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“I don’t even know what to do anymore,” you muttered, fighting back your tears.

“You’re coming over here and we’ll sort things out. Want me to pick you up?”

“No, I can get a ride. Just…thank you.”

“None needed, you’d do the same for me.”

You pulled your duffel bag out of the closet and started chaotically packing. Grabbing things haphazardly off the bathroom counter. Pulling clothes out of drawers without paying attention to whether they matched. You didn’t care. You needed to put distance between you and that apartment so you could clear your mind and think about the future of your relationship.

Sonny was starting to get a little worried. He hadn’t heard from you since his last text, which you didn’t respond to. He always worried about you, but this was different. Stirring a pot of marinara with one hand, he pulled his phone out of his pocket with the other.

He just had to check one more time.

He was interrupted by two tiny, blonde tornadoes running laps around his legs. He had to admit that while Rollins’ girls were adorable, they could be a bit distracting. He sat his phone down and playfully chased them back into their room so he could get back to finishing dinner. He didn't even think about it again until after they finished eating. By then, it was too late to call since you were probably sleeping.

It had been such a long day. He was up before 5 and didn’t clock out until nearly 8. They’d been working on a difficult case that left the team feeling torn. A little boy disappeared in the night, kidnapped by his nanny. Once they found him, it sadly appeared that the boy would’ve been better off with his kidnapper than his irresponsible parents. As everyone left, he noticed something was up with Rollins. When probed, she said that the case had gotten to her. She was having doubts about whether she was a good enough mother and if she could take care of her kids alone. So, he offered to give her a ride and cook dinner for them. How could she say no to that?

He thought Rollins was a great partner and admired her. When he first joined, he even had a crush on her. However, she made it clear she was not interested. He had since moved on from those feelings. He still cared about her, but in a brotherly way. She didn’t come from a tight-knit family like him. His Italian genes wouldn’t let him sit back and not help when he saw her struggle. That was Sonny’s job: helping people and fixing things.

After herding the girls into bed and making sure Rollins ate, he made his way home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he drove. God, was he tired. Not just from today. They’d been understaffed for months, so he’d been picking up extra shifts. Between the mandatory overtime, dealing with his sisters, and trying to support Rollins, he felt like he didn’t have much left to give. The only thing keeping him going was you. He couldn’t wait to lay in bed and cuddle up beside you. Somehow you made all the bad things in the world right. You didn’t even have to do anything. Your presence was enough to chase away the demons that haunted him.

He quietly closed the front door to not wake you. He heard rustling coming from the bedroom. Looking down the hall, he saw light peering from the ajar door. You must’ve been awake. He was delighted he would have a few minutes to chat with you before falling asleep. Walking down the hallway, he noticed a small pile of red fabric on the floor. Confused but too tired to care, he walked past it to the bedroom. Opening the door, he saw you rummaging through the closet.

“Hey, doll, glad you’re still up,” he mumbled. He then noticed the half-filled duffel bag in the middle of the room. “What’s with the bag? Going on a trip?” He asked with a chuckle.

You hesitated for a second before turning to face him. His stomach immediately dropped when he saw your eyes were rimmed with red, and mascara was streaking down your cheeks. It was clear you’d been crying.

“Oh, my god, what happened?” He quickly approached you to check if you were alright.

You dodged his advance and returned to packing, leaving Sonny puzzled. He paused to take stock of the situation in front of him. He didn’t see any blood or bruises, so you probably weren’t hurt. You were obviously upset about something. Was it because he came home late? And why were you packing a bag at this hour…

It finally clicked what was happening and alarm bells went off in his head.

“Hey, slow down!” He started taking things out of your bag. “Look, I’m sorry I was home late. Rollins—she was having a hard time, and I was trying to help—”

Without acknowledging him, you picked the bag off the floor and moved it to the bed, out of his reach. You didn’t want to hear excuses, nor did you want to hear about that woman. The air in the room felt painfully thick, making it hard to breathe. You wanted to get out of there, to clear your mind.

Sonny’s confusion spiraled into irritation. He was practically dead on his feet. The last thing he wanted was to deal with you having some kind of tantrum. “Come on, doll, aren’t you being a bit dramatic here?”

You finally stopped and stared him straight in the eye. “Well,” your voice was deceptively calm, “getting stood up by your boyfriend can have that effect on you.”

“Stood up? What’re you talking—”

Date night. Shit. The reservations. Oh SHIT. The red dress in the hallway…

His eyes went big, and his heart hit the floor. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry—”

You felt tears starting to well up again. You bit your lower lip and went back to packing.

Sonny just stood there, rubbing the back of his neck. His first instinct was to go and touch you, but he knew better than to do that right now. He just wanted to hold you. To make all this go away. He hated seeing you cry, and knowing he was the reason? He wanted to puke. If he could just get you to listen, he could fix this.

“What’re doing? Doll, please stop,” he frantically asked.

“I’m going to my friend’s place.” You didn’t even look up. “I’m tired of being an afterthought, Sonny. I need some time to think.”

“Think about what? Sweetheart, please just talk to me.” He was grasping at straws trying to get you stop. “I-I’m sorry, just—I can fix this—will you please just stop for a second—"

But you weren’t stopping, and he was getting frustrated. Why wouldn’t you just talk to him?

“So that’s it then. You’re solving this by walking out on me?” He accused with venom in his voice. “If I hadn’t come home just now, you wouldn’t even be here!” His arms started flailing and his voice got louder and louder with each word. “Is that all this relationship meant to you? That you’d just pick up and leave after a mistake? No discussion, no talking, NOTHING?!”

His shouting startled you, making you stop dead in your tracks. You clench your eyes shut and your hands begin to tremble.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He immediately softened his tone and held his hands in front of him, trying to look less intimidating. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

He regretted raising his voice as soon as the words left his lips. He didn’t mind getting loud and angry at a perp, but he always tried to leave “Detective Carisi” at the precinct. Home was sacred, where he could be soft and gentle. With you, he was just “Sonny” or your “sunshine.” He hoped he still could be.

“Listen to me, please,” he begged. “You’ve got every right to be mad at me. I screwed up, big time, and I couldn’t be more sorry about that.” You looked at him, still shaken, with tears rolling down your cheeks. He realized there was nothing he could do to fix this tonight. It was too much. “Look, it’s late. You’re tired, I’m tired—let’s sleep on this,” he proposed. “I understand you need some space, so I’ll sleep on the couch. The room is all yours. Just…please don’t go.”

You were on the brink of losing control, too overwhelmed by everything. You couldn’t stay. You shook your head. “I have spent too many nights alone in this bedroom, Sonny. I-I need to go.”

That shattered him.

“Okay, I hear you.” He was trying to figure out how to salvage this. “Just for tonight. You’ll come back tomorrow, and we’ll work this out.”

Your phone pinged from where it sat on the dresser. “My ride’s here, I’ve gotta go.”

“You’re coming back tomorrow, okay?” He pleaded. But you walked right past him. “Will you please text me when you get there so I know you’re safe?”

The closing of the front door echoed throughout the now silent apartment. Sonny stood there dumbfounded. He looked at the chaos of half-opened drawers and things thrown about. Something caught his eye in the corner of the room. His gray Fordham hoodie.

It was your favorite and you had claimed it as your own. It was left folded on the chair. You didn’t take it with you. He picked it up and stared at it. You wore it practically every day because it smelled like him and comforted you, and you didn’t take it with you. Somehow this hurt more than anything else that night. He wadded the ratty sweater up and hurled it across the room.

#oh god she writes now #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi imagine #dominick carisi #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu

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neuroprincess · 10 months ago

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Law & Order: SVU - First Date + First Kiss (Preferences)

Classification: Fluff

Pairing: Alex Cabot, Casey Novak, Liz Donnelly, Olivia Benson and Rita Calhoun

Warnings: None

Word count: +1000

Alex Cabot

- The blonde quickly pulls herself together, trying to mask the confusion of feelings and the shock of seeing you after so many years without any contact, failing miserably. She feels a little lost, not knowing how to act, slightly out of it. And continues like this for the next few weeks, even showing up almost every day at the bakery until finally getting up the courage to ask you out to dinner. It's a fancy restaurant, at a table away from curious eyes and the atmosphere is pleasant, you talk about your lives so far, between laughs, wine and an occasional physical touch, like hands accidentally crossing, her touch on your back as you get up from the chair, pinky fingers so close as you walk along the sidewalk that one can feel the warmth of the other. Alex insists on taking you home, you stop in front of the apartment door and both smile nervously. "I missed you." She whispers, tucking a stubborn lock of hair behind your ear. "No more than I missed you." You stare at each other for a few seconds and ADA leans in, asking permission with her gaze to continue, then you nod, joining your lips in a gentle and needy kiss, full of emotion, longing.

Casey Novak

- It was no surprise when, in the middle of dinner, Casey's phone rang and she was forced to run after some judge to get warrants, she had barely touched the food, nor had you, both immersed in a fun and spontaneous flirting. The following week she's waiting for you in the lobby of the precinct with a box of your favorite dessert, which was mentioned at dinner, and a mysterious proposal. She takes you for a apparently directionless walk until ending up at a softball practice cage, no one else there, all the equipment waiting. Her words are patient, hands soft around your waist, body warm and slightly sweaty behind yours as her fingers wander up the forearm to put hands together and teach you how to use the bat, it's almost too much, all the sensations and little things the ginger provokes without even realizing it. "Good shot, sugar." She celebrates happily when you hit one target, proud of the result of hard work, and lifts you, twirling in the air, faces coming closer and you kiss as if it were the right thing to do, it's deep and passionate, all the tension built up over weeks expressed in one act.

Liz Donnelly

- Another night spent working late, it's become a kind of routine you've started to get used to. Long nights full of paperwork, words that start to blur together in a few hours and a dozen cups of coffee, sometimes energy drinks. The last folder has been checked and the notes reviewed, when the knock on the door wakes you up, surprised, as the building seemed empty except for the security team. "You know it's 1am, right?" Liz smiles, entering your office, a bottle of whisky and two glasses in hand "I thought you might need these." And offers one of them, a little fuller because she knows it's necessary. Hours pass without either of you noticing, the bottle is half full and you're both on the floor, high heels thrown on the carpet, messy hairstyles and trivial conversations. "So, Cabot and you...?" She asks suggestively. "Oh, no, no, actually... she's my sister." The woman is clearly surprised, you expect some kind of negativity, maybe a little suspicion, but she just smiles and approaches. "Great!" Closing the distance with a half-drunk, slow and sensual kiss.

Olivia Benson

- Board game days become a bi-weekly program between you, the two families start to meet often and a bond quickly forms, not unexpected considering how close your children are, like flesh and blood. The kids have fun in friendly competitions and eat snacks, sometimes preferring to play in the garden or watch random cartoons until they fall asleep. This time it's different, the pair went to a sleepover, you opened a bottle of wine, sipping it between relaxed conversations, a nice meal and close to midnight you're still awake. "Finally some time for the moms." She raises her glass and knocks on yours to toast the break, you both love your children, but they seem to be plugged in 24/7. "And without having to watch Trolls, I've memorized all the songs." You mumble, drinking the rest of the wine and snuggling up on the sofa, the woman unconsciously rests her arm on the headboard, touching your shoulder, both smile and try to pay attention to The Golden Girls. Almost impossible to do when long fingers wander over your bare skin, the genuine laughter and the magnetism that leads you to stare at her, enchanted. Eyes meet, breaths become heavy and you stop fighting the urge to finally kiss Olivia.

Rita Calhoun

- Her presence is very pleasant, bringing some kind of comfort to your tiring work days and boring shifts, there are delightful conversations when the restaurant is almost empty, occasionally she even makes a witty joke. As a result, you've become good friends, despite all the differences, from personality, age to social class. Bonds are created in the small details, maybe in the kind and gentle way she treats you, how she pays attention to the almost insignificant things you've left hanging in the air during a conversation, proof of which is the limited edition of your favorite book she brings to one of the dinners. Inside is a card with an address, a time and telling you to meet her there. So you do, wearing one of your favorite outfits and silently praying to be appropriate, in the end it doesn't matter much, she has prepared a candlelit dinner in the botanical garden, just you two, the nature and the stars. "I really enjoyed our night, it was lovely." You whisper and play nervously with the hands. "And what about me?" Rita teases, stopping walking, and you blush nodding positively. She tries to say something more, but is interrupted by your lips on hers in a clumsy impulse, there's a doubt in the air, answered by her hands on your waist pulling you in to deepen the passionate kiss.

taglist: @scarr0713 @geekyandgay98 @heidss @loudchaoscoffee @quailbagutte @ctrlamira @milffilm @prentiss-theorem @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @grandtacoranchnickel @@multifandomlesbianic @janeyseymour @storiesofsvu

Junte-se à minha taglist aqui ^^

#law & order: special victims unit #law and order svu #alex cabot x reader #casey novak x reader #liz donnelly x reader #olivia benson x reader #rita calhoun x reader #preferences #female reader

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x-bluefire-heart-x · 1 year ago

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Our Family

Alright so a surprise for me and everyone else. I am managing to post today! I had a little gap between my little celebrations and since I managed to do most of my editing and reviewing of this piece yesterday I am able to quickly post this before I go for drinks!

@autumntheblogger requested a fic with Female Benson reader who adopts Noah, and Rafael is the surrogate dad. So, I hope you enjoy and that is something like what you were after!

So, the gif doesn't really have anything to do with the story I just liked it....

Warnings: None.

Master List

Prompt List

Forever and Always

You woke up in the middle of the night, expecting to hear the cries of little Noah as you had the past several nights. But you heard nothing, there was no crying. Sitting up you looked around in confusion, mind still half asleep. Running a hand through your hair you turned to look at your bed partner, your brows furrowed in further confusion seeing the bed empty beside you. The sheets were still warm. There was no light coming from the ensuite, so he wasn’t there. You pouted a little as you got up from bed, determined to hunt him down. You paused to check in on Noah, noticing that the crib was empty.

“Huh,” you muttered.

You slowly walked down the hallway rubbing sleep from your eyes which widened at the sight that you stumbled upon in your loungeroom. The sight answered both mysteries of the night, the absence of Rafael from your bed, and the lack of Noah’s crying. Rafael stood in the middle of the loungeroom, bouncing lightly on his feet holding Noah to his chest as he softly sang to the little boy, the Spanish lullaby soothing him back to sleep. Noah had grown a lot in the year that you had fostered him, it had been just under two months since you officially adopted him, but he still looked tiny in Rafael’s arms. You leaned against the wall, your heart melting at the sight of your two boys. You had been weary about dating Rafael when he first showed interest, you had first met the man when you went to the SVU squad room with the intention to drag your sister out for lunch, it had been a while since you had seen her.

“Well, if it isn’t little Benson,” Finn grinned as you strode into the squad room.

“That got old after the first three times you said it, Finn,” you rolled your eyes but let Finn pull you into a hug. You adored Finn, always had since you first met him when he joined your sisters squad. “Liv free?”

“She’s with our new ADA,” Nick answered coming up for his own hug. “Going to drag her to lunch?”

“Ooh, someone’s clever, they should make you a detective,” you teased winking at him when he playfully tried to mess up your hair. “Tell me something, this new ADA, Liv seems both happy and vexed with this guy. What do you guys think?”

“He’s good at his job,” Amanda answered. “He’s a little abrasive and should probably work on his approach to our victims but otherwise I don’t think he’s a bad guy.”

“Good, you guys deserve a consistent ADA,” you grinned before turning as you heard Liv’s voice. You studied your sister, checking to see if there was any signs that she was overly stressed, you let out a breath when you saw no signs. After checking on Liv, you allowed your eyes to drift the man beside her, taking in the fancy looking suit, his perfectly styled hair and his brilliant green eyes. Your heart fluttered for a half second as you took your fill of him, knowing that he must be the new ADA. You were more intrigued by him then you had been with any of the previous ADA’s.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Liv asked as she spotted you next to the rest of your squad. You were still studying Rafael when he turned to look at you, a look of confusion on his face at seeing an unfamiliar person amongst the squad. Your eyes locked for a split second before you forced you gaze away, that second was enough for you to know that you could get lost in his eyes forever.

“Here to drag my stubborn sister out to lunch,” you answered, tilting your head. “And don’t even try it, I already cleared it with Cragen.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed. “Rafael, this is my sister, Y/N.”

“Nice to finally meet you Rafael,” you stepped forward, offering your hand for him to shake.

“I take it Liv’s complained?” he asked stepping forward with a little smirk. He took your hand in his squeezing it gently as he shook it twice before letting go, letting his fingers trail along your palm.

“Only about as much as she would about me,” you responded.

“And that is a sisters job,” Liv poked you in the arm.

“And so’s making sure my sister eats and remembers that they have a sibling,” you hip checked her. “Now please go and grab your shit.”

“Your shout,” Liv said told you as she walked to her desk grabbing her coat and bag. You rolled your eyes playfully at her back ignoring how Rafael seemed to be watching the interaction with amusement.

“Duh, always is,” you added forcing your tone to match how you behaved as a teenager when Liv became more like your mother than your sister.

“They always like this?” Rafael asked Finn. The rest of the squad had been watching the back and forth between the Bensen siblings like it was a tennis match.

“Only as long as I’ve known them,” Finn shrugged.

“And how long is that?” Rafael asked.

“Since 2000, known Little Benson since she was 17, and even then she would come charging into the squad room to demand her sister join her for food,” Finn grinned. “Those two would share being the mother hens, once in I think 2005 Little Benson was really sick and Liv was out of her mind until Cragen told her to go home.”

“Odafin Tutuola you better not be selling our secrets!” you walked back over to the team wagging your finger at the man. “Don’t listen to him, Rafael.”

“I don’t tend to,” Rafael responded, his teasing smirk growing. “But from what I have witnessed he doesn’t seem to be lying.”

“Rude,” you laughed. “Wow, I can see now why you get along so well with Liv.”

Rafael’s smirk changed to a grin at your laugh, he had heard mentions of Liv’s sister in passing but Liv hadn’t talked overly much about you, at least not to him. He knew Liv was a somewhat private person and he hadn’t been working with SVU for long.

“Alright, call me-”

“Do not call her,” you interrupted. “Cragen promised me a full hour for lunch with my sister with no interruptions. I’m sure this place won’t collapse in that hour.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll handle anything,” Amanda promised you with a wink.

“That goes for you as well Rafael,” you pointed a finger at him. “If you have issues with anything regarding a case, call one of them.”

“Bossy,” Rafael muttered.

“You should have seen her as a teenager,” Liv agreed. You opened your mouth in a fake gasp of surprise.

“Who do you think I got it from?” you asked crossing your arms.

“From me?” Liv acted surprised.

“She’s got you there Liv,” Nick said teasingly.

“Alright we’re leaving,” Liv nudged you away from the rest of the squad.

You were drawn out from the memory when you felt Rafael’s hand caress your cheek. As your eyes refocused you saw his green eyes staring at you with love, a soft gentle smile on his face.

“There you are mi amor,” he whispered leaning to press a kiss your cheek. “I was trying to let you sleep.”

“Thank you, honey,” you covered the hand cupping your cheek, nuzzling into it. “I think my body automatically wakes me up now.”

“Where were you just before?” he smiled at you as you reached up to stroke the back of Noah’s head, Rafael removed his hand from your cheek, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“Remembering when we first met,” you answered. “I remember thinking that I was in trouble from the split second our eyes met.”

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow, a smirk slowly replacing the soft smile. “Mi amor, charmed by me before I even opened my mouth.”

“Oh don’t go getting a big head,” you scolded him. “We should put him back to bed.”

“Hmm, don’t worry mami, I was charmed by you very quickly as well and that only grew every day,” he kissed your lips before walking back to the nursey to put Noah back in his crib.

“Do tell,” you drawled trailing behind as he entered the room and waited for him to lay Noah down before plastering yourself to his back, arms wrapped around his chest as you looked around him to Noah sleeping peacefully in his crib. Rafael chuckled softly as he ran his fingers up and down your arm before he unlocked them from around his chest, using the grip on your hands to pull you from the room and back to your bed.

“Should I be worried about you getting a big head?” he teased.

“Don’t worry, Rafi you’ll still have the biggest ego in this relationship,” you poked him before you laid down on his chest, your fingers playing with his chest hair. “Now, tell me.” You pouted up at him.

“Bossy,” he tapped you on the nose. “The way you are with Liv, and the rest of the squad. It showed me that you were a kind, compassionate and caring woman. But what really settled it for me, was when you first brought Noah to the squad room after you had started fostering him.”

You cradled the little boy close to your chest, humming soothingly as you walked into the squad room. You had promised the team that you would bring your foster son to see them after you had taken time to settle down. You hadn’t even seen Rafael since the court agreed to you fostering. Liv had asked if you would be interested in fostering the poor little guy after the latest care situation hadn’t worked out. At first you had been unsure but the caseworker had let you hold Noah and see him for a few hours at the centre and you were hooked from the moment he cooed at you. The court had agreed to you fostering him, having an older sister who was a Sargent in SVU speak for you helped and the background check was easy, your job paid extremely well and your apartment was big enough for a nursey. You had a year of just fostering him before you could petition to adopt him. That year couldn’t go quick enough as far as you were concerned .

“Hey guys, you got time for a special VIP visit?” you asked, your voice loud enough to draw Liv out of her office, Rafael following her. Your eyes locked and you were able to watch as he took in you holding Noah, his eyes softened as he looked back up at you.

“For my nephew?” Liv asked striding forward to meet you near the desks of the squad. “Always.”

“I will try to not take offence that I wasn’t included in that sentiment,” you teased handing over Noah to Liv who cradled him so tenderly.

“He’s gotten so big,” Amanda gushed her hand coming up to stroke the back of his head. “How’s he been?”

“Really good, the doctors said he is healthy, and he will probably start teething in earnest soon,” you grinned. “So that will be fun.”

Rafael came up to stand beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. You smiled shyly at him, you weren’t entirely sure how he was going to take to you fostering the little boy.

“Mami suggested teething rings for him that we could put in the freezer,” he said holding a bag up. “I went and got some..”

The rest of the squad happily pretended to be distracted by the baby currently in Amanda’s arms but they all watched the couple, Liv especially was very invested in what was happening. You were currently wrapping your arms around Rafael’s shoulders a look on your face that Liv had never seen before.

“Rafi,” you cooed. “Thank you, I hadn’t even thought of that. Think your mum would be happy to provide some more advice and suggestions?”

“She would be over the moon,” Rafael grinned pecking you on the lips. “And…I would love to help in anyway I possibly could and in any way you want me to help.”

“Really?” you asked almost bouncing on your feet.

“Of course,” Rafael smiled. “If the squad can be torn away from little Noah I wanted to take the two of you out for lunch.”

“Let me see what I can do,” you planted a kiss on his cheek squeezing him tightly before you let go and spun around to face your sister and the others. “I’m going to need Noah back, you lot. My man is taking us to lunch.”

Since your back was turned you missed how Rafael was looking at you. The expression on his face was almost indescribable, his eyes were impossibly soft and he couldn’t tear them away from you as you took Noah back in your arms, kissing him on his head as you teasingly hip checked Amanda who was pouting at you.

“And I later learned that you are fiercely protective of your loved ones,” Rafael’s voice dragged you back to the present. The look in his eyes similar to the one from that day when he came out of Liv’s office.

“Damn right I am, would burn the world for my family,” you agreed pressing a kiss to his chest right above his heart. “Would burn it for you.” Rafael smiled at you trailing his fingers across your cheek.

“Truly?” he asked.

“You’ve been stuck with me since the night you listened to me scream and yell at you, blaming you for Liv being taken by that fucker Lewis,” you propped yourself up on your elbows, hovering above Rafael. “And all you did afterwards was hold me. I had been determined not to let myself feel anything for you, to ignore the signs that you felt something for me, and that night…that night I decided to ignore every reason why dating someone who worked with my sister was a terrible idea.”

“Still think it is?” Rafael asked hands running up and down your back.

“No, not at all,” you rubbed your nose against his placing a kiss on it afterwards.

“Know what I remember from that night?” he asked you rolling the both of you until you were underneath him, your legs cradling his hips as he kissed up your neck and across your cheeks, nuzzling you.

“What’s that?” you asked, a little worried about his answer.

“I remember seeing you breaking apart and knowing that I had no idea how to help you,” he started. “That all I wanted to do was take your pain away. So if letting you scream at me was helpful at all then I would let you scream at me for however long it was needed.”

You stared up at the man that held your heart as it squeezed at his admission. You didn’t think you could love this man more than you already did, but having seen him with Noah and what he just told you showed that you were wrong.

“Rafael, I love you,” you whispered, eyes wet with tears. “I love you.”

You had never said the words out loud yet, Rafael had told you he loved you six months after you started fostering Noah. You had mentioned that after the last six months of the fostering where up you were going to petition to adopt Noah, you had asked him what he thought about it, you had practically moved in together without it being official. You figured you should ask him, concerned that maybe adopting a child might be the line in the sand for Rafael, the two of your had never talked about kids in your future and you knew that if Rafael didn’t want kids that it would be the end of your relationship. But the man had surprised you when he responded by saying that he loved you and would support you in any way you needed. You hadn’t known how to respond, you were a little like your sister in that regards, love was a little tricky. But Rafael took it in stride, like the most amazing man in the world, he hadn’t mentioned it again, at least not out loud, he did small things to show you that he loved you. And that he loved Noah.

“Mi Amor,” Rafael’s voice came out soft and hushed. “I love you as well.”

The rest of the night was spent in bliss, until the two of you curled around each other trading lazy kisses as sleep tugged you both under.

The following morning found you waking up alone in bed. Again. You were thinking you would have to talk to Rafael about that. You hugged his pillow close to you as you rolled onto your side, wondering if you should try going back to sleep, until you heard the most adorable sound. Noah’s laugh coming from the kitchen followed by Rafael’s soft chuckle his words not loud enough for you to hear. You smiled at the sound of your boys, a warmth building up inside. You could hardly believe how well Rafael took to Noah this past year, helping you when Noah started teething, on nights when he stayed over he would always shush you back to sleep if Noah cried as he got up to sooth him. He would take time out of his hectic schedule to spend time with Noah if you were busy with your work so you didn’t need to get a baby sitter. He joined you to any of the doctor visit’s he could, if Child Services made a visit he would try to be there if you wanted him there. He took the two of you out to lunches and picnics in the park.

Rafael went above and beyond, you knew he meant it when he said he would help out but you had no idea he would go as far as he had. In your mind you kept thinking of him as Noah’s father, though you hadn’t dared to say anything out loud. A part of you was still worried that some time soon Rafael would decide that being with you and a kid was too much, that he hadn’t signed up for this. But knowing that right now he was in the kitchen, most likely feeding your son, playing with him and making him laugh almost gave you enough courage to say something. You smiled reaching out to grab the shirt Rafael had left on the bottom on your bed, it was one of his with Harvard sprayed across the front. It fell to your thighs and smelled of him, he would also always leave one of his shirts out for you to wear in the morning.

You padded quietly out to the kitchen phone at the ready to catch what your boys were doing. You peeked around the corner and your heart squeezed at the sight. Rafael was feeding Noah his breakfast while also keeping an eye on whatever he was cooking on the stovetop, from the smell it was pancakes. You switched your phone from camera to video, catching as Rafael imitated an aeroplane with the spoon waving in the air before bringing it to Noah’s mouth.

“Yum, yum, right little guy?” Rafael asked. “Your mami only buys the best for our-her little boy.”

You almost dropped your phone at his slip up, your heart pounding. He was going to call Noah “Our son”, he thought of Noah as his son. You stopped recording and ducked back around the wall, hand clutched to your chest. Happiness burst through you, your smile growing. This was what you needed, after finally telling Rafael that you loved him, you wanted him to know that Noah was his son as well. That this entire time you had been coparenting Noah, and Rafael needed to know. You stepped into the kitchen coming to Noah kissing his head before giving him the last bite of food left.

“Morning love,” you said to Rafael. “Thank you for this, you didn’t have to.” Rafael turned around after flipping the pancake sending you a beautiful smile before he started to make you tea.

“I’m well aware I don’t have do to anything mi amor but I enjoy looking after you and-” you stepped up to him pressing a soft kiss to his lips interrupting him.

“Our son?” you asked. “Because Noah is our son, Rafi. If you want?”

“Amor,” Rafael’s eyes were wide in awe, tears filling them as he stared at you searching your eyes. “Truly?”

“Yes, Rafael, I have thought it for a while I just didn’t know if you wanted that,” you nodded rubbing your nose against his in affection. “But after last night and seeing you this morning I needed you to know.”

“Our son?” Rafael whispered. “Noah is our son.”

“Yes,” you nodded. Rafael grinned as he wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up to spin you around as the happiest laugh filled the kitchen. He peppered kisses all over your face squeezing you tight.

“I love you mi amor,” Rafael whispered. “And I love our son.”

“We love you as well,” you whispered back. Rafael leaned down his hands cupping your face as he gently pressed his lips to yours before softly and gently moving his lips. Your hands gripped his hips stepping closer to him so there was no gap between your bodies. The kiss was passionate but without the heat of last night.

The two of you turned in unison as Noah’s giggle interrupted the moment between the two of you. Your son was sitting in his high chair giggling and playing with the spoon hitting it against the table part of his chair. Your lips pulled up into a smile at your son, at the happiness in his giggle. It had taken a while for Noah to express himself and every time he does you are so proud of him. Rafael grinned releasing you to lift Noah into his arms.

“Is our son happy?” he asked lifting Noah up enough to gently blow on his belly. “Does our son want to go to the zoo today?”

“The zoo?” you asked coming up beside your boys. “Don’t you have work?”

“I can take today off,” he grinned. “It’s been a while since we’ve spent the day together as a family.”

You tried to stop your smile from growing too much at the little white lie, you had spent time together last night but you knew to Rafael that this was different. This time you would be together as a family, where everyone knows that the three of you were family. Rafael was almost vibrating with happiness, as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“I’ll get our little man ready,” he grinned heading to the bathroom.

“You’re going to take any chance you have to say our family aren’t you?” you called as you started to clean up, tearing a piece off of the pancake on top on the pile and removing the last one from the pan. “And the two of us our eating the pancakes before we leave!”

“Anything for you mi amor! The beautiful mother of my son,” Rafael called his voice a little sassy but no less loving.

“Yeah, that man is not going to tire from saying that anytime soon,” you chuckled to yourself. And you knew that you would never tire from hearing him say it.

#writing #imagine #law and order svu #imagines #law and order svu imagines #fluff #rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x female reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x y/n #Family #Dad Rafael Barba #Request #Olivia Benson #Benson Reader #Older Sister Olivia Benson

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