#rafael barba fan fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinsiriuslyemo · 5 months

Note

So I heard you're opening requests again, but there's no rush on this. I read the imagine where Frederick's patient was a sketch artist who told him her feelings for him but he respectfully turned her down to which she accepted. Do you think you could write one for Rafa but the reader is left jilted and heartbroken? The person is also a secret admirer who leaves gifts for him

“Who is that from?” Olivia asked as she eyed the clear box of what appeared to be chocolate covered almonds with a neatly fastened purple ribbon around it. You lowered your eyes in an attempt to hide the pink that was surely making its way quickly to your cheeks as your boss — ADA Rafael Barba — shrugged his shoulders and picked the gift up.

You hailed a cab, went straight home, changed into your pajamas, and put on your go-to pick-me-up movie before sinking onto your sofa. With a blanket over your lap, and your heart broken and bleeding in your chest, you reached for the chocolate-covered almonds, finally opening them.

“I honestly have no idea,” he replied, examining the box for the fourth time that day. “Nor do I know how whoever sent them knew that chocolate covered almonds are one of my favorites.”

“You got a secret admirer, Rafael?” Sonny inquired, dimpled smirk taking over his face as he sat in one of the seats in front of the ADA’s desk.

“That or someone’s trying to kill me, I suppose,” Rafael mumbled, setting the box down once more and beginning to listen to Olivia’s briefing on their most recent case while you set his long-awaited coffee down on his desk. “Thank you,” he said softly to you, glancing in your direction with a smile before he gave the Lieutenant his attention again.

You’d been working at the DA’s office for nearly two years as a paralegal, and had always seen the illustrious ADA in the hallways as he made his way to or from the courthouse downstairs. At first, you’d been content just to admire him from afar — even sometimes volunteering to work on one of his cases or sneaking down to the courthouse to watch him in action, though you always stayed near the back and ducked out immediately after the verdict was read. You grew to not only admire him, but begin to wonder what he might be like outside of the DA’s office. Night after night you would find yourself wondering various things about him. If he had a ritual when he arrived home from a long day. Whether he enjoyed leisurely reading the paper on Sunday mornings or preferred to immerse himself in a book. Did he prefer scotch or bourbon after a tough case? You always guessed the former.

Once you’d even followed him to Forlini’s and “bumped into him,” hoping he would invite you to join him for a drink, and he had, gesturing to the stool beside his and signalling the bartender for you to order yourself a drink. It was the first time you’d gotten to know him as Rafael, and not ADA Barba or Counselor as you so often called him. Though the majority of what the two of you had talked about was work-related, the few times you exchanged personal tidbits or anecdotes was enough to make him all the more intriguing to you.

Later that month, after you’d chastised yourself for being a borderline stalker and vowed never to follow him to a bar again, he — unprompted — asked you to stay late with him one night to work on a case. He’d been perfectly professional, and so had you… except for the fact that you fell in love with Rafael Barba that night.

"Y/N!" The sound of his voice, even partially muffled by the walls between his office and yours across the hall, made the downy hairs on your arm stand as the skin beneath developed tiny bumps. Inhaling deeply, you let out the air as you stood and walked past your fellow interns in the tiny, shared office that you all occupied to cross the hall and peek into his much larger office.

"Yes, Mr Barba?" You found him in the same manner you normally did, reclined in his chair with his feet kicked up on his desk and an open file in his hand. One hand held the manilla folder up in front of him while the free one squeezed and smooshed the stress ball he kept in his drawer.

"Would you do me a favor and dig out the files from the Kellerman case?" he asked, eyes still moving over the file in his hand.

"The one from last month?"

"That's the one," he answered, still not looking up from his reading material.

"Absolutely," you said, dutifully going to the file room down the hall and filling out a request slip. You chewed on your bottom lip, wringing your hands in front of you as you paced from one side of the hallway to the other, waiting for the case file. Taking a deep breath, you let it blow past your lips in a shudder, trying to calm your nerves.

In the two years with the DA's office, your crush on ADA Barba had never made it difficult to work with him. Sure, your heart would pound until your entire body thrummed with your pulse. Yes, your skin would often grow so hot that you were convinced it would sizzle should you splash water on it. But that didn't mean that you couldn't be just as professional as you'd always been. Even if one look into his green eyes would send you into a tailspin, making you feel as though you were in the middle of a tornado, with the entire world spinning around you.

"Y/N?" you heard from the clerk and blinked as you gave him a thankful smile before you took the file and made your way back down the hall. Knocking on ADA Barba's door, you carefully opened it and poked your head inside.

He still sat at his desk, but his feet had found the floor once more and his elbows and forearms pressed against the end of the desk as one hand scribbled notes on a legal pad. His lips were perfectly puckered in concentration and the little wrinkle between his brows prompted the corner of your own lips to curl upward.

"Mr Barba? I have the file you requested," you said, ignoring the flapping wings in your belly as you crossed the threshold and held out the file.

"Thank you. Would you mind staying and looking over that file for any similarities to the Efferman case?"

The sound of his voice rolled over your skin like a river of feathers that had been warmed by the blazing sun, raising goosebumps over your flesh. You licked your dry lips, wiping your free hand against your skirt. Your eyes fell on the hand not moving over the legal pad, following the thick vein that started as two blue lines below his knuckles then merged into one and ran down the center of his hand, disappearing again at his wrist.

"Y/N?"

You blinked, shaking your head and planting a smile on your face. "Yes, I'm so sorry. Absolutely, Mr Barba, I can do that."

"Let's set up on the couch, I could use a change of scenery," he said, dropping his pen on the yellow pad and standing.

His chest swelled with a deep inhale, eyes still on the yellow notepad as the air came out in a huff, his cheeks puffing outward with the noise. Taking up both the pad he'd been writing on and the file he'd been referencing, he made his way to the couch on the other side of the door and sat down. Glancing up at you as you sat next to him, he offered a brief smirk before putting his attention on the notepad on the coffee table.

Sitting so close to him allowed his musky cologne to surround you, overwhelming your senses until your head was swimming. Blinking several times, you cleared your throat and crossed your legs, opening the file and beginning to read. You tried to concentrate on the words in the file, but damn it if his scent wasn't driving you insane. Biting the inside of your cheek, you curled your toes inside your shoes and clenched your jaw. You could feel your shirt beginning to stick to your back as a light sheen of sweat built up there.

You could hear his breathing, slow and steady as you cast a sideways glance, trying not to stare at the peppering of grey he had beneath his temples. Why did he have to be so handsome?

"How are you doing in law school?" he asked, eyes still on his work as he annotated in the margin of his notes.

Your mouth fell open as you tried to articulate an answer, when your voice refused to come out, you cleared your throat. "Pretty good. I'm actually supposed to be taking the bar this weekend."

"Good for you," he mumbled absently, underlining a sentence before he turned to look at you. "You nervous?"

You blinked again, the only seamless thing you could manage to do. "Very."

"Don't be," he answered with a gentle smirk. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"T-thank you."

He knitted his brows. "Are you okay?" Your mouth fell open again, eyes widening slightly as you nodded.

In truth, your mind was still reeling from the conversation you'd overheard him having with Lieutenant Benson and Detective Carisi. Sure, he hadn't necessarily said anything bad about the chocolate covered almonds that you had snuck onto his desk. But it was the fact that they sat just as you'd left them that worried you, unopened. Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you gestured to the clear, plastic box with the purple bow with your chin.

"I thought you liked chocolate covered almonds," you blurted out.

He furrowed his brows, turning his head slightly as his eyelids slid down suspiciously. "How did you know that was what they were?"

"Um…" Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit! "I overheard you talking to Lieutenant Benson earlier."

He seemed to only then remember that, yes, you had been in the room. In fact, it was not five seconds after he commented on the anonymous gift that you'd brought him his coffee. "That's right."

Well, him clearly not remembering your presence certainly bodes well for you. Bowing your head to hide your frown, you began to read the file in front of you while trying to calm the tears welling in your eyes. A heat settled on your cheeks and spread to your neck as you tried desperately not to blink so as not to ruin the case file in your hands with your tears.

"Sorry, I've been kind of in my own world today," he said, apparently oblivious to your efforts to not cry all over the Kellerman case. "Haven't been much use to anyone, trust me — hey…"

Oh great.

You flinched away from his touch when the backs of his fingers came to wipe on your cheek. "I'm sorry, did I… did something happen? Are you alright?"

You shook your head, holding a hand up towards him. A laugh escaped you as the water in your lower lids finally poured over, and you quickly wiped them away. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look completely fine," he replied.

You laughed again, unable to help it. You must've looked like a lunatic and kept your eyes averted so that you wouldn't have to see him see you like that.

"Come on, what's wrong? Something is clearly bothering you." His hand patted your shoulder before settling on the back of the couch.

"It's stupid, really." You tried to convince yourself that there was no one to blame except yourself. You had been the one that indulged in the fantasy of him feeling the same way that you did. You had allowed yourself to sink deeper into the feelings you had for him. You were the hopeless fool here, not him. "I'm in love with someone who apparently doesn't even know I exist."

You hadn't meant to tell him what was actually wrong, and judging by the surprised look on his face, he hadn't expected you to be so candid. Still, he cleared his throat and offered a sympathetic smile. "I don't know what to say."

You bobbed your shoulders, keeping your eyes on the file in your hands. "You don't have to say anything."

"I mean, even if I did, it would hardly be appropriate," he mumbled.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line with the chocolates, I just wanted to do something nice for you and —”

“Oh…” His eyes went from you to the plastic box of chocolate, back to you. “You mean you… those are…”

You closed your eyes, wishing the floor would open up so that you could happily sink into the depths of hell and be done with it. The fact that he was clearly at a loss for words to the point of not even completing a single sentence was enough to make you wish you could just throw yourself from the window.

“Y/N, I’m your boss,” he said after a moment. “I’m so sorry, and I’m flattered, I —”

“It’s fine, can we just forget I said anything?” You were practically begging for a reset of the last ten minutes, but the look on his face indicated that it wouldn’t be so easy.

“I wish we could, but…” He gave a sympathetic smile and somehow that made you feel ever worse. “I’m sorry, I wish it were different, but it would be completely unethical for us to be anything other than colleagues.”

You nodded, ignoring for now the way your vision blurred. “Of course, I completely understand.”

He hesitated for a moment, as though there was something else he wanted to say. “And I’m so very sorry to have to do this, but I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to accept those now that I know where they came from.” He gestured to the box of chocolates. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, truly. I think you’re lovely, really I do, I just —”

“You don’t…” You chuckled pathetically through the tears that had finally begun streaming down your face. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it, it’s fine.”

Except it wasn’t fine. In fact, it was pretty far from fine. It was all you could do to keep yourself from sobbing out loud, relegating your tears to slow, silent streaks down each of your cheeks. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise; why would someone as cultured and sophisticated as Rafael ever be interested in someone like you?

“Would it be okay if I went home?” You tried to keep the desperation from your voice, but it was about as useful as the chocolate almonds.

“Yes, of course. Go ahead, I can finish up here,” he replied. You were sure he thought he hid it well, but you could see the slightest touch of irritation in his eyes at having to go over the casefile himself.

Good, you found yourself thinking as you set both files down on the coffee table. If you had to face being rejected, the least he could do was finish researching his current case himself. The strange satisfaction was gone the moment you picked up the unopened box of chocolate covered almonds, and walked out of his office. You had managed to get all the way to the elevator before letting yourself break down completely, thankful for the late hour so that you could spend the entire ride down to the lobby alone with your tears. When the doors slid open again, you were just wiping under your eyes, sniffing hard and opening your mouth to exhale.

#raul esparza #raúl esparza #writing #fan fic #rafael barba #law and order svu #request #askbox

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lannister-slings-and-arrows · 2 years

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can you write a little piece of Barba and chilton holding you down and using you?

Sorry this took so long! And I'm not 100% sure that it's quite what you wanted. But this was as close as I could get to Chilton participating in anything resembling rough sex lol.

Heavy in Your Arms (A So Much Easier Than You Realize Story)

Written as always with the remarkable @pascalispretty . It's good to be posting something new again!! Can be read on ao3 here.

Warnings: swearing, some dom/sub undertones, a little bit of daddy kink, vaginal fingering, p. in v. sex, come eating, oral sex (f. receiving), and a hand job. Rating: E Word Count: 8392

“Hey, hey, what’s this?” Rafa asks with a smile and a grunt as you climb onto his lap. Wrapping your arms around him, you bury your face in the side of his neck and sigh. He transfers his book from his right to his left hand before tossing it onto the small table next to his chair by the window. “Hello to you too, sweetheart.” Both his hands come up to rest on your back and he shifts underneath you, redistributing your weight on his thighs and settling back in.

Rafa lets you sit there, quiet and undisturbed for a couple of minutes, running his hands up and down your spine before he finally squeezes the back of your neck and remarks,

“Not that I don’t love having you on my lap, but something tells me that this isn’t just a social call.”

You grunt irritably and he squeezes harder, his free arm tightening around you as you shiver before slightly relaxing.

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Bad day,” you groan against his warm skin.

“Want to talk about it?”

You groan again and shake your head, hugging him tighter and trying to mold yourself to his big, solid body. He shrugs and digs his fingers into the muscles along your spine, chuckling at the stuttered breath you don’t try to hide and kissing the side of your head.

“Want to talk to Fred about it? I think he’s in the kitchen.”

“No talking, just…” You huff testily. “Just, god–I don’t know!” The words to describe how you’re feeling beyond ‘not good’ escape you and you feel the frustration both at the assholes you had to deal with today and your inability to tell Rafa about it or what you want him to do to help build inside of you. It crawls up your throat till it’s choking you and all you can do is shake your head against him and clutch his shirt tighter.

“I don’t know, Rafa, I can’t–please just–”

Rafa immediately shushes you and, leaning back, hugs you close. He reaches up to take your hair out of the messy bun you had put it in and tangles his fingers in the soft strands.

“Alright, it’s fine, it’s okay,” he soothes quietly, the deep rumble of his voice something you can feel in your chest from where you’re lying on top of him. It shakes something loose inside of you and you shift on his lap, whining softly.

“What do you need, baby?” Rafa asks, hand still playing with your hair.

“Something! Nothing–fuck, Rafa, I don’t know I just…” you sigh, hissing and finally settling as your scalp twinges when he tugs sharply.

“Okay, that’s alright. Shhh…” The fingers of his free hand slip below the waistband of your slacks, just resting there, and he kisses the side of your head. “We can take care of you. Figure out what you need. Something soft?” You shake your head and moan again. “Something rough?” Some of the muscles in your body begin to unclench by the tiniest of degrees and Rafa must feel it too.

“Oh, that’s it. That’s what you need, huh? Well. We can handle that.” He scratches his nails across your scalp and you shiver. “Fred!” Rafa calls. “Fred, dinner can wait, come here!”

He continues to hold you and play with your hair, tugging on it and twisting it through his fingers, as you both wait for Fred to join you. Which he does presently with an aggravated,

“What, Rafa? Not ten minutes ago you assured me that you would most certainly ‘wither and die’ if you weren’t fed in the next hour. What could possibly have superseded this need so quickly?”

“Oh stop, you’re exaggerating,” Rafa scoffs, absently rocking you. “We have more pressing concerns. Someone had a rough day and needs our help to get out of her head.” You whine at the thought and he tugs on your hair again, harder than before. You still immediately and feel Rafa smirk against the side of your head.

“Oh? Does she?” Fred asks. The soft whisper of his socks over the hardwood floor gets louder and then two hands settle, heavy with purpose, on your shoulders and squeeze gently. Fred’s thumbs dig in under your shoulder blades and you don’t even try to stop the embarrassing noise that that pulls out of your throat. You start to go boneless and you slump against Rafa, not bothered by the soft chuckle you feel coming from him, enjoying the heat radiating from his body and from Fred’s as he presses closer to you.

“She does. I think….” Rafa pauses thoughtfully. “I think she needs us to take charge for the rest of the night, Fred. Allow her to just let go for a bit. Want to help?”

Fred sighs happily behind you. His fingers are slowly but surely working out every knot the day had put into your shoulders and the longer he touches you the further away every single thought and aggravation you’ve experienced for the past eight hours feels.

“Nothing would please me more, Rafa.”

“Hear that, sweetheart? Do you want daddy and papi to take care of you? To give you what you need?” Rafa asks, jostling you gently. You keen softly against his neck and nod, nipping his skin without any real intent behind the gesture–just wanting the taste of him in your mouth and the fading scent of his cologne in your nose. “Oh, of course you do. Right there Fred, press a little harder where you just were,” he orders over your shoulder and Fred obliges, fingers probing a particularly stubborn knot before pressing his knuckles hard against it and massaging. You moan and shift around on Rafa’s lap trying to escape the sensation until all at once warmth floods your body and you collapse like your strings have been cut, the first stirrings of arousal flaring up between your legs.

“Daddy and papi are going to take you apart piece by piece, darling, until you can barely put two thoughts together. You won’t be able to move without assistance and you won’t want to. We are going to take such good care of you…”

You grind your hips down against Rafa’s thigh slowly, the soft needy noises you’re hearing almost definitely coming from you. The longer Fred’s hands continue to work the muscles of your neck and upper back, however, the less you really care.

“Oh, what a good needy girl you are!” Rafa marvels, pleased, sighing against your ear. “You know how much papi loves feeling you riding his thighs. But,” he pulls his fingers free from the waistband of your pants and smacks your ass hard. “I didn’t give you permission to do that, my darling. And that means you are going to have to be punished.”

Fred presses a kiss to your head and releases your shoulders and steps away after one last hard squeeze. You whimper at the sudden loss of the warm body against your back and shake your head.

“Oh yes, I’m afraid you do,” Rafa insists, kneading the cheek his large warm hand is gripping. “You’ve put yourself into our hands, and I take that responsibility very seriously.”

“Shall we take you to bed, sweetheart? Get you comfortable?” Fred asks, and you nod into the crook of Rafa’s neck. You don’t really want to move but the sooner you go the sooner you can be sandwiched in between the two of them again.

“Good girl. Up you get.” Rafa swats lightly at your ass and leans back, encouraging you to get off. You groan in protest, sliding reluctantly off his thighs and onto your feet beside Fred. He laces his long fingers with yours and starts to lead you towards his bedroom, Rafa bringing up the rear and crowding close.

The room is dark, but Fred ignores the bright overhead light in favor of turning on one of the lamps by his bed. It casts everything in a soft glow and you sag back against Rafa’s broad chest, watching as Fred fusses with the bedding. As he stacks the decorative pillows on the armchair by the bed Rafa wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes.

“Should we get you out of these clothes, sweet girl?” Rafa pinches a fold of your blouse between his fingers, tugging gently.

“Yes, please,” you sigh, remaining pliant in his arms as he starts to unbutton your shirt. Fred returns to where you and Rafa are standing after he finishes fussing with the pillows and he glances down your body. He gestures at your pants.

“Can I…?” he asks, watching intently as Rafa reveals more of your chest to him.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Fred. Everything off,” Rafa tells him, tugging the hem of your blouse free from your pants so he can undo the last few buttons. Fred doesn’t need to be told twice, reaching for the fastening of your slacks and undoing it quickly. Instead of leaving you to kick your way free, he kneels in front of you and drags the fabric slowly down your legs. You squirm when the cooler air of the room hits your soaked underwear and Rafa chuckles behind you.

“Patience, darling.” He pulls your shirt carefully over your shoulders and eases it down your arms. The slow, methodical stripping has every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation, just waiting for another incidental brush of their fingers. You gasp when Fred hooks his fingers behind one of your knees, encouraging you to lift your foot up so he can get your pants all the way off.

“Oh, you’re so on edge, aren’t you?” Rafa asks softly, his breath hot against your ear as he finds the clasp of your bra. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll take care of you.” He nips your earlobe, unhooking your bra even as you arch your back at the scrape of his teeth. In front of you, Fred leaves your pants crumpled on the floor and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear.

“She must really need this; she’s soaked through these already, Raf.” He looks up at you as he starts to drag them down your legs. “Don’t you, darling?” he asks. It’s a mistake to look down and meet his eyes but you do and the image of Fred on his knees in front of you, his face so close to your cunt, makes you mewl in frustration.

“Hush, sweetheart. We’ll get there,” Rafa murmurs, slipping your bra off your shoulders. “Do you really think daddy won’t be licking that pretty little cunt clean at some point tonight?” You’re naked between them now as Rafa rests his warm palms gently on your shoulders. You want to twist in his arms, to tuck your head under his chin and wrap your arms around his warm, broad body, but his hands are firm on your arms.

“So lovely,” Fred sighs, running a hand from your hip down your thigh. “Absolutely lovely. Our sweet, best girl. Do you want the cuffs, Raf?”

“No, I think she needs our hands.” Rafa gives you a little push towards the foot of the bed. “Go and kneel down, darling.” You do as you’re told, stepping around Fred to climb onto the huge bed. There are whispers and the sound of fabric moving behind you but you don’t turn to look.

You don’t need to. Rafael gave you an order and obeying their orders to the letter is grounding. Freeing. It’s so comforting, so soothing, to know that they’ll take care of you–that they know exactly what you need and when you need it and all you have to do is cooperate so they can make everything better. They’ll make every second of this horrible day vanish and get you out of the spiral of overwhelming thoughts racing around your head. It doesn’t matter what they’re whispering about, you don’t need to know. All you need to do is what Rafael told you to do, to follow the instructions that papi gave you and kneel on the end of the bed for him. You don’t need to look. They’d never leave you like this, never give you an instruction without a purpose. Kneel and face forward and everything will be fine.

They don’t leave you waiting for long. Fred, now stripped himself, comes into view as he climbs onto the bed.

“Look at you waiting so patiently,” he admires, propping himself up with an overstuffed pillow and settling against the headboard. Once he’s sitting comfortably in front of you he holds his hands out, palms up. “Give daddy your hands, honey.”

You have to shuffle forward a little on the big bed to reach his hands. Your stomach twists pleasantly at the feeling of his skin against yours when you rest your palms flat in his. Warmth is radiating off him like always and Fred gives you an encouraging smile, opening his legs slightly.

“Lean forwards for me, darling, rest your head against the mattress,” he instructs, gently pulling your hands forwards. The mattress dips beside you and Rafa’s hands wrap around your middle, helping you relax into the position they want you in. Still kneeling, you let them lower your body until your head and shoulders are resting on the bed between Fred’s knees, your hands still held tightly by his hips.

“Comfortable, sweetheart? Do you want a pillow?” Rafa asks once you’ve settled into place, running his hand down your spine. When you don’t answer immediately, already sinking into that place in your head where only Rafa and Fred can send you, Fred squeezes your hands and Rafa smacks your ass sharply.

You shrug languidly, pressing your forehead into the mattress, and Rafa sighs.

“Keep an eye out in case she needs one, Frederick,” Rafa directs, and arranges you so you’re resting your weight more on your heels in what feels like an approximation of puppy pose. It feels amazing. Your spine stretches out, your shoulders loosen, and Fred’s strong fingers massage your hands between his to add to your almost euphoric sense of well being.

“Oh,” Rafa groans. “The view from here, Fred.” He runs his hands from your hips to your ass, gripping your cheeks and pulling them apart. You shiver and whine at the feeling of cool air hitting the most intimate parts of you, parts that are already soaking wet and wanting. The appreciative grumble that rises from Rafa’s chest heats your face and a twinge of humiliation starts to twist inside your stomach–coloring the contentment you’re feeling. You squirm slightly, hips shifting, and Fred shushes you quietly.

“Be still, darling, it’s alright. Trust us.” Rafa pushes your cheeks together again and lets go before smacking your ass a little harder this time.

The suddenness of the action makes you start and then moan; the rush of endorphins goes straight up your spine and settles at the base of your skull, relaxing you once again.

“Oh, is that what she needs? Does she need papi to redden this gorgeous ass that’s just staring him in the face? Begging for him to lay his hands all over it?”

You whimper your assent and Fred leans over you to kiss your head.

“I think that was a yes, Rafa,” he whispers into your hair.

“I think so too, Fred.” Rafa smacks the other cheek this time, even harder. The pain is a jolt through your whole body, tensing your muscles and then leaving relaxation and…arousal in its wake.

Rafa lands a quick series of smacks on your ass, alternating sides, leaving you feeling a little raw, extremely exposed, and turned on in a strange, floaty way. It’s vague, you don’t really feel the need to do anything about it, you just want to wallow in it for as long as they’ll let you.

He continues to spank you, overlapping previous hand prints he’d left, sometimes gently and sometimes hard enough to almost startle you out of the not quite trance he’s put you in. Fred still holds your hands in his, occasionally squeezing them, occasionally letting go to run his palms up and down your extended arms.

Eventually he stops and the bed shifts under you as he sits back on his heels, probably–if you know Rafa at all–taking in his handiwork with a satisfied look on his handsome face. The two of them are silent and you don’t want to break the stillness in the room since they have clearly decided not to but… But the longer he looks, the longer you can feel Rafa looking, the more that squirmy, hot feeling starts to build in your body again, centering deep inside your core and ruining the tranquility he had caused.

You sigh abruptly–harshly–and shift on the bed, your arms tugging against the hold Fred maintains on your wrists. That finally gets his attention.

“Something wrong, darling?” he asks solicitously. You shake your head against the mattress but then quickly sigh again and nod.

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, not really sure what else would relieve the feeling rolling steadily along every nerve in your body. Every muscle feels poised and ready for something, anything, the anticipation is coiling in your stomach and you just… You just…

“Please, papi please, I don’t–I can’t,” you whine, shaking your head again and starting to unfold your legs from beneath you.

Rafa puts a large heavy hand on the small of your back and presses down.

“What do you need, baby?” he asks softly and you groan, frustrated and irritable all over again, every single worry and aggravation from today starting to creep back in again. You don’t know what you need. He’s supposed to–

“Ugh, papi, please! I don’t know–please fuck me,” you beg, arching your spine, hoping to present yourself to him in a way that makes it impossible for him to refuse your request. If he doesn’t do something about this, something to cool this fire that’s starting to rage inside you, you’re going to explode–

“Oh, shh, baby, you’re alright. We’re going to take care of you, I promise,” Rafa hushes, running his hands softly over the globes of your ass, barely touching you, feathering over the marks he surely left on your skin. Goosebumps erupt all over your body and you shiver. “You have to be patient. Be patient and trust me; everything papi does is gonna make you feel better.”

One of Rafa’s fingers catches on your entrance and you gasp. He keeps moving like it was an accident and just when you’re starting to relax under his stroking and petting, another long finger catches again, this time sliding in up to the first knuckle.

“Oh, darling,” he marvels, twisting his finger around just inside of you. “Look how wet you are! How accommodating, even for just the tip of my finger. I wonder…” He hums thoughtfully and slips his entire finger inside of you. You gasp, and Fred holds your hands tighter when you jerk in his grip.

“Oh you are so wet. So wet and so warm, god, this cunt is so soft around my finger,” he praises, and your face heats up, that tingling arousal continues to simmer inside you, continues to spread out to your fingers and down your legs. “I just love the way you feel, sweetheart.” Rafa pulls his finger out only to bring a second one up to you and pressing them both back inside. The stretch is slow and perfect and so frustrating; it’s not enough, not quite what you wanted or what you need.

Patience. You can have patience. They’ll always take care of you.

Rafa makes a soft noise of contentment behind you, his free hand holding your hip tightly so you can’t try to buck back on his fingers and interfere with his pace. You can only take what he sees fit to give you, held down between his and Fred’s hands. He works his fingers in and out of you a few more times, agonizingly slowly, seeming to deliberately avoid the spot inside you that makes your toes curl and your vision go white.

“I want a taste, Rafael,” Fred demands, his hands squeezing yours a little tighter. You cry out sharply when Rafa slides his fingers all the way out of you, leaning over you to offer them to the doctor. When you tilt your head you can just about see Fred wrap his mouth around Rafa’s fingers and the pleased sound Fred makes is downright obscene.

Rafa’s hand tightens on your hip again as Fred sucks the taste of you off his fingers, and the noises of Fred’s mouth working make you squirm underneath them. Letting go of your hip to run a soothing hand down your back, Rafa presses just a little closer to you until his cock bumps against the sore skin of your ass.

“I know, baby. Papi’ll get back to playing with you in a minute,” he says absently. You can imagine his gaze fixed on Fred, on the way he’s practically choking on Rafa’s fingers in his eagerness to chase the taste of you on his skin.

Fred is breathing hard when he lets them go with a pop, and you can extrapolate from previous experience just how gorgeous he looks above you.

“She tastes better every single time,” Fred sighs happily, stroking a hand over your hair.

“I know,” Rafa agrees as he pushes two fingers, now wet with Fred’s spit, back inside of you. “Always tastes so good. Always feels so amazing.” As if to emphasize his point he pushes his fingers as deeply as he can, making you moan loudly against the sheets. It shouldn’t turn you on to hear them talk about you like you aren’t even in the room, but somehow it only stokes the flames in your belly higher.

“Tell me what she feels like, Raf. Are you still just using two?” Fred asks, his hands returning to hold your wrists firmly in his grasp.

“Just two for now. I can feel all those muscles working around my fingers trying to pull me in deeper. Such a greedy little cunt,” he says fondly as he drags his fingers slowly out of you until only the tips remain before pushing back in.

“God, remember when we worked her up to four?”

“Christ, yes,” Rafa grunts, curling his fingers downwards just a little. “You’ll have to do that again to her sometime–it was one of the hottest fucking things I’ve ever seen.” You whimper under him, still not quite getting enough pressure on that spot to satisfy you. He doesn’t seem to be in any rush to make you come; it’s more like he’s touching you for his own pleasure, unconcerned about whether you come on his fingers or not.

“I thought she was going to pass out when I managed to push my little finger in,” Fred reminisces. “So warm and wet and tight around them all, it was worth the time it took to get her there.”

Rafa makes an appreciative noise and pushes another long finger inside of you without warning. The stretch of it makes you sob and try to rock back against him but the hand he has on your hip keeps you steady.

“That was three,” he announces for Fred’s benefit, and you moan loudly when he finally presses down against just the right place with his fingertips. “Good girl, you know papi loves hearing you. All those pretty noises, god, I needed this myself after today.”

“Bad day?” Fred asks nonchalantly, as though you aren’t held between them while Rafa fucks you slowly with his fingers.

“Could have been better,” Rafa admits. “I can’t get a good read on the jury.” He presses just a little more firmly against that spot on your walls with every stroke of his fingers and your breath comes out in breathy little gasps as a familiar tension starts to coil in your center.

“Am I the only one here who had a pretty good day?” Fred asks, and Rafa snorts.

“Aren’t you special.” He sighs. “What do you think, Fred, should we let her come? Or should we make her wait?” Fred clears his throat and shifts slightly, squeezing your hands.

“Oh, let her come–she probably needs it. And besides, I know how much you like feeling her cunt tighten around your fingers.”

You can hear the smile in Rafa’s voice as he agrees.

“Always thinking of what I need, Fred. I love you, guapo.”

“Well, I figure spreading the joy around is the least I can do,” Fred demurs. “I’m sorry your jury is proving elusive. Anything I can do to help?”

Rafa grumbles behind you and taps gently, erratically, against your g-spot, causing your legs to twitch under you.

“I’m not really sure.” He taps again, a little harder and a little faster, and you finally come with a loud wail. Your orgasm releases in you like water from a dam, crashing through your whole body and leaving you trembling and moaning. “Shh, darling. Papi and daddy are talking,” Rafa admonishes, thrusting his fingers slowly, working you through it, drawing it out as long as he can.

“God, your little cunt doesn’t want to let my fingers go does it?” He wiggles his fingers inside you and one of your legs almost kicks out behind you. “God damn–you feel so good.” He grunts thoughtfully.

“I don’t know, Fred, there’s this one woman that I thought I could get by appealing to her sense of ‘sisterly solidarity’ or whatever but I swear every time I look at her it’s like looking at a statue. Either she has the best poker face in the world or,” he pauses, finally pulling his fingers out of you with one last stroke to that favorite spot and a murmured ‘good girl’. “Or I am just completely not reaching her. Is it me? My witness?”

You feel him lean over your back again, his cock bumping first your cunt–causing another full body twitch–and then your well-spanked ass.

“Here, have another taste, amor,” he offers. The sound of Fred sucking wetly, and probably messily, on Rafa’s fingers fills the room once again and you shudder, relaxing into your position folded up between them.

“Make sure to get my wrist, she dripped down my hand,” he reminds the doctor. “Such a messy, pretty girl, we just love that, don’t we?” he praises. Fred makes a deep agreeable noise and slurps around Rafa’s hand.

“I really hope your entire strategy doesn’t hinge on appealing to her sense of ‘sisterhood’ with a woman she has never met before, honey,” Fred chides gently, a little breathless after pulling off Rafa’s fingers. “I can give you seven different reasons why she might feel more animosity towards a woman in your victim’s situation just because of their shared gender.”

Rafa groans and then grunts as the head of his cock, leaking precome all over the both of you, drags against your skin.

“No, not my entire strategy but I was hoping to count on her to be on my side during deliberations.”

Rafa’s cock trails down your cunt as he slowly sits back on the bed behind you and you try to wiggle away from the sensation, still a little sensitive after coming. Oh, and doesn’t that just rekindle that banked flame inside you. And the dark chuckle you hear from Rafa when he notices?

“Someone’s still eager for more attention, aren’t you, princess?” he asks, trailing his nails gently in circles on the soft skin of your ass. “Hm?”

He’s waiting for an answer. Fred squeezes your fingers to indicate that this is when you should be piping up with something, some kind of acknowledgement to Rafa’s question. But Rafa’s cock against you sent your cunt twitching and tingling all over again and now all your thoughts are consumed with just how good it feels. It takes you a minute to drag yourself back into the present, into Fred’s bedroom with the soft glow from the lamp next to his bed, in order to answer him.

“Please papi, yes, I want–I need you to fuck me, please…” You take a deep, shuddering breath as he cups your cunt with his warm palm, that fluttering feeling coming back with the gentle contact. “God, I need something please, you feel so good…”

“Oh, baby, don’t you worry, that’s what we’re here for,” Rafa reassures you, patting your cunt softly like you’re a favorite pet. “We’re gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. Aren’t we Fred?”

“Oh yes we are,” Fred coos, bending over you to bestow another soft kiss on your hair. You squirm as Rafa’s fingers brush over your clit when he takes his hand back and you hold your breath in anticipation as he kneels up and shuffles closer. You hear the tell tale slide of skin against skin as Rafa spreads your slick down his cock and you start to pant quietly, excited that finally, finally, he’s going to–

“Hold still baby, there we go, such a–fuuck…” Rafa pushes the big, blunt head of his cock against your entrance and slowly into your cunt, groaning all the while. “Such a good fucking girl for papi–god, you feel fucking good.”

He always feels so much bigger from this angle. Big enough that he punches the breath right out of your body as he enters you. You swear you can feel his cock in the back of your throat, maybe that’s part of the reason why breathing seems like a task that is just out of your reach. And, god does he take his sweet time working himself all the way into you.

“Papi–” you whine weakly as he pushes just a little deeper inside. Your hands jerk in Fred’s grasp, trying to pull free so you can push yourself back onto Rafa. Fred holds you tighter, his large hands closing around your wrists firmly. Your pulling doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafa who strokes his hands slowly over your back and hushes you softly, his large palms warm and soothing as you shudder underneath him.

“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well, just be patient,” he murmurs, his hands continuing to stroke until he’s buried all the way inside of you. “Christ, the way you feel around me. I’m stuffing you full and I can still feel your greedy little pussy trying to drag my cock in deeper.”

“It’s a good thing that such a greedy little pussy has papi and daddy to take care of it and make it feel good. Isn’t it, darling?” Fred asks, taking your wrists in one hand so he can tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Yes daddy,” you manage breathily. “It’s all for you and papi.” You’re practically slurring your words but you don’t have the wherewithal to be self-conscious; you’re too focused on Rafa’s cock inside of you and the gentle stroke of Fred’s hand over your hair. Held between them like this you can give yourself over to the sensations they’re providing, you can let yourself go exactly the way you’ve needed to since you got home.

“Oh, good girl.” You can practically hear the smile in Rafa’s voice as he settles his hands back on your hips and gives a first testing thrust. Your whole body jerks and you keen against the sheets, needing him to keep going but completely unable to gather enough air in your lungs to ask for it.

He knows anyway. Of course he knows.

“You want it like this, sweetheart?” Rafa asks, giving another hard snap of his hips. “Want papi to fuck all those thoughts out of your pretty little head?” Too far gone to speak, you nod desperately and turn your hands over in Fred’s grip so you can clutch at his wrists. It’s all the encouragement Rafa needs to set a fast, harsh pace.

His hips slap loudly against your ass with every thrust, aggravating the bruises he’d left earlier and ratcheting up every sensation he creates. Your whole body feels like it’s being pulled taut, everything dragging in towards your core like water pulling back to form a wave. Every pass of Rafa’s cock bumps against that spot inside you and you close your eyes so tightly that you know it’ll hurt to open them again.

The only sounds you can manage are small breathless little gasps and whines, but they’re enough for Rafa.

“There you go, is this what you needed?” Rafael practically growls, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly that you know he’s leaving bruises. His groans are loud, rumbling out from deep within his chest, and part of you wishes you could see his face. Your first orgasm left you sensitive and it doesn’t take you long at all to get to the edge again, sobbing against the sheets as you come. The force of it takes you by surprise, makes you bear down on Rafa’s cock, and he gives a hoarse moan behind you.

“Fuck, dear fucking god, keep doing that baby, keep squeezing papi’s cock like that–” he trails off with another loud groan, somehow fucking you even harder than before. The little air you can pull into your lungs burns, your whole body feels like you could combust at any moment, and it’s the best you’ve felt all day.

“Good girl, papi’s good little girl, you want me to come inside you? Make a mess for daddy to clean up?” You nod frantically against the sheets, wanting to keep Rafa inside of you for as long as you can. “Papi’s best girl, gonna fill you up, you take it so good–” He’s clearly not paying any attention to what’s coming out of his mouth, the fast, babbled words becoming more and more disjointed the closer he gets to coming.

His blunt nails dig into your hips, dragging you back on his cock as he comes. He pushes somehow even deeper inside of you than he was before, the head of him managing to hit the absolute end of your cunt and making you wail as he grinds against you. You gulp in huge gasping breaths once he stills, shivering almost violently underneath him as he runs a hand down your spine.

You whimper when he pulls out of you, shuddering at the feeling of his come running down your thighs. The two men shift you slowly, carefully turning you over and helping you lie flat on the bed, always so mindful of hurting you.

“Sore anywhere, my darling?” Fred asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple once he has you settled on your back beside him. You feel almost drunk and you ache pleasantly, but you aren’t sore to the point of discomfort.

“No, daddy,” you sigh, smiling when Rafa slips an arm around your shoulders to hold you close to his side.

You turn your head and bury your face against Rafa’s side, inhaling the scent of sweat and sex and Rafa, and enjoy the gentle rise and fall of your head as Rafa breathes under you. Fred kisses your temple again, nuzzling the damp strands of hair there, before pressing soft teasing kisses down the side of your face. He lingers at the corner of your mouth, his tongue flicking out to probe gently but sighs, stroking your arm, and moves on.

He continues to kiss down your neck, nipping gently behind your ear, and down to your shoulders, his hands caressing your body wherever he can reach. Rafa’s arm tightens around you and out of the corner of your eye you see his other hand coming up to tangle in the soft waves of Fred’s dark hair. You sigh, letting yourself sink deeper into the mattress; into the circle of Rafa’s arms, into the soft, gentle presses of Fred’s lips and tongue and teeth.

“Going to clean up my mess, Fred?” Rafa teases quietly. Fred shuffles even closer to you and you feel his sigh from where his chest is pressed against your side and the sharper nip of his teeth against your bicep before he growls.

“Always, Rafael. I always have to and always will clean up your messes,” he promises.

Rafa laughs and your entire body shakes and jostles with the movement. You smile against his warm skin, relaxed and languid and your mind happily cleared of any thoughts but those of them.

“I can always count on you, guapo,” Rafa responds and Fred harrumphs. He kisses all the way down your arm, briefly sucking on each of your fingers before leaning back up and sucking your nipple into his mouth.

That relaxed state immediately dissipates and your entire body tenses like you’ve been electrocuted. It’s like Fred is pulling every bit of calm back out of your body, but he isn’t leaving the anger and frustration from earlier in the day, instead anticipation, arousal, and the flash and burn of slight overstimulation have space to settle into your brain and the base of your spine.

“Oh, I think she likes that, Fred,” Rafa observes, a smirk obvious in his voice. Fred’s free hand settles on your stomach, keeping you still. You do like this. You like this very much. The soft, wet heat of Fred’s mouth, the determination with which his lips mold around your nipple, the barest hint of teeth against the sensitive pebbled flesh.

The soft, pleased noises he makes when he grinds gently against your leg.

You like all of this and that familiar heaviness settles again deep inside you; radiating from your cunt all the way up to your stomach, spreading out and meeting the little shocks of pleasure dancing down your nerves from the nipple in Fred’s mouth. You take a deep breath, suddenly realizing that you haven’t in what feels like minutes.

“Look at her, clenching her thighs together like she hasn’t already come twice tonight–what a perfect little slut,” Rafa coos, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Does that pretty little cunt feel lonely, princess?” You whimper at him and Fred sucks harder, the little nips he’s dolling out becoming stronger. “Do you want Fred to hurry up and get down there faster?”

You hear the smack that Fred delivers to some part of Rafa’s bare skin and the lawyer’s ridiculous giggling laugh response. But Fred does move on, letting go of your nipple with an obscene pop, leaving it wet and hard and exposed to the cool air of the room. He presses a final kiss to it before continuing his journey down your body, pressing kiss after kiss in a line down your stomach, over your belly button, and finally stopping at your mound.

“Mmm, darling. God, I have been waiting to do this all day.” He kisses you again and you jump, surprised, when he blows gently over your wet cunt. Rafa tightens the arm he has around your shoulder and wraps his other arm around your waist, stopping briefly to affectionately tug on a lock of Fred’s hair.

“Oh you’re so wet…” Fred sighs, blissfully, staring raptly at your cunt. “And Rafael, you left such a mess down here.” He tsks and settles onto his stomach, bringing his hands up and using his thumbs to gently spread you open.

You squirm under his close examination and shut your eyes, a hot feeling of almost embarrassment flooding your body. You pry them open again to look down and see Fred’s green eyes sparkle up at you, mischievous, turned on, and completely delighted at the prospect before him.

“What a task you’ve left me, Rafi,” he says, excited. “How thoughtful.”

And before you can say another word, before any other thoughts are even processed in your brain, Fred leans in and licks a long, wide stripe all the way up your cunt.

Your entire body twitches and fights Rafa’s strong hold when Fred pauses before sucking hard on your clit. You can’t be sure if the moan you hear comes from you or from Fred, you certainly feel noises emanating from between your legs, and Fred dives right in and starts to lick and suck and clean up any evidence that Rafa had been there. Fred eats you out like a starving man, like it’s the only thing he’s had in weeks, and his raw enthusiasm is devastating.

His tongue is wet and warm and slippery against you, firm as he uses it to flick your clit, and he smiles into your cunt when you twitch in Rafa’s arms every time he does so. He grumbles happily, wrapping both his arms around your legs and throwing them over his shoulders, boxing his head in with your thighs.

He stops when you keen, high and desperate, after he nips your clit and he sighs.

“You aren’t getting tired already, are you darling?” Panting, you look down at him again, and watch as he presses quick kisses to the insides of each of your thighs before grinning at you and diving back in.

“Daddy—oh—!” you cry as Fred suddenly slides two fingers inside of you, curling them and dragging them along your walls while sucking on your clit again. Rafa groans deep in his chest, the vibrations against you adding to Fred’s own noises of pure delight. Combined, they only amplify the building arousal pumping endorphins through your body.

Fred breaks away from you with a loud moan. With his fingers still buried inside of it, he addresses your cunt and explains,

“Well, sweetheart, I wouldn’t be doing a very good job of cleaning you up if I didn’t make sure the inside of you was clean too.”

Rafa snorts and under normal circumstances you also would have something to say about Fred’s sass, but this time all you can do is clench your thighs around his ears and whimper at him while his fingers move steadily inside of you. He pulls them out slowly and you watch, stunned, shocked into breathlessness as he pops them into his mouth and sucks them clean, moaning around the digits before plunging them back in and licking around them.

“Fuck, I–Daddy–” you whine plaintively, twisting your hands in Rafael’s tight grip. You want to sink your fingers into Fred’s soft hair, to scrape across his scalp with your nails in and tear more of those delicious moans from him, but Rafa won’t let you go.

“Is he doing a good job, baby?” Rafa asks softly, and you manage to nod. “Aren’t you lucky that daddy loves cleaning up your messy little cunt so much?”

As if to emphasize Rafa’s point, Fred opens his fingers inside of you, just enough to allow him to push his tongue in between them. Your moan is shameless, loud, and you throw your head back against the pillows, the tendons in your neck straining.

Fred’s warm, velvety tongue practically flutters inside of you and he groans against your cunt, trying to press his face even closer, to sink his tongue even deeper. Your skin doesn’t feel large enough to contain the sheer heat inside of you and you’re only vaguely aware that you’re panting out ‘daddy’ with every breath.

“Oh sweet girl, are you nearly there? Going to give daddy his favorite thing and come on his tongue?” Rafa tightens his hold on you, keeping you still as you begin to squirm when you get close to your third orgasm of the night. That only makes Fred more eager, his fingers and tongue working faster inside you.

The noise that you make when you come is closer to a shriek than a moan, a high, keening sound as all that tension finally snaps and sends warmth flooding through your body. Stars explode behind your closed eyes and when you finally come back to yourself you’re shaking in Rafa’s arms.

Fred shows no signs of slowing down–if anything he’s only spurred on by your orgasm–but it’s starting to become too much. The press of his fingers inside of you is hovering on the border between pleasure and pain and you aren’t sure how much longer you have before the balance tips in the favor of discomfort.

It doesn’t take your lovers long to pick up on the change in your noises and the way you’re moving restlessly between them. Fred lifts his head up, slick shining on the lower half of his face and his pupils blown as he looks at you.

“Too much, sweet girl?” he asks, dipping his head down to kiss your abdomen. “Do you want to stop?” He sounds drunk and you know he could go on for a lot longer simply enjoying the taste and feel of you but you can’t. You’re wrung out and exhausted and all you want to do is fall asleep between them.

“Yes, please,” you manage. “Tired, daddy.” You don’t have the energy left to form a complete sentence. You just want Fred and Rafa to keep taking care of you.

Fred makes a soft hushing noise as he slowly slides his fingers out of you, dropping more gentle kisses along your thighs when you keen softly at the feeling.

“Good girl, you did so well,” Rafa whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead as Fred settles himself on the bed beside you.

“You really did. Do you feel better, sweetheart?” Fred asks, almost absently putting his slick fingers into his mouth to lick the taste of you off them. Heaving a sigh, you turn so you can snuggle into Fred’s side and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Always take such good care of me,” you answer quietly as Fred wraps his arm around you, holding you against him. You can see how hard he still is, precome smeared on his stomach, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. It makes you feel a little guilty, leaving him wanting when he and Rafael have given you exactly what you need, but you’re pretty sure you’d fall asleep before you could manage to get him off.

Rafa’s warm body presses close against your back, spooning you as he leans over your head to kiss Fred. It’s a slow, lazy thing and you want to watch even as your eyelids feel increasingly heavy.

“Do you want me to take care of that?” Rafa asks eventually, resting his hand on Fred’s abdomen an inch or two away from his hard cock.

“Mmm, yes,” Fred hums, turning his head to press a kiss to the top of your head. “You mind, sweet girl? Don’t want to keep you from sleeping.” The consideration makes your heart ache, and you shake your head against Fred’s shoulder.

It’s all the permission Rafa needs to wrap his hand around Fred’s cock, smearing the drops of precome beaded at the tip across the head with his thumb.

“Fuck, Fred. You always look so gorgeous between her legs. Making those noises and rutting against the mattress,” Rafa praises, quickly finding a fast rhythm. Fred’s arm tightens around you and, as much as you want to watch, the day catches up with you. Your blinks get longer and eventually you close your eyes, just listening to the soft noises that Fred is making as Rafa jerks him off.

You’re half-asleep when Fred finally groans, his body twitching under you as he comes. You open your eyes blearily, looking at the come spattered across Rafa’s hand and Fred’s stomach as Rafa works Fred through his orgasm.

The three of you lie there, tired, satiated, and quiet for a few minutes. Your eyes are getting heavier and the furnace-like warmth thrown out by the both of them is not helping you stay awake. You could sleep just like this for the rest of the night. It’s only when Rafa moves to grab a corner of the sheet that Fred finally moves, abruptly sitting up and dislodging you.

“Sorry, sweet girl,” he apologizes quickly before turning to glare ferociously at Rafa. “Rafael! You can’t wipe come off on the sheets! God, you’re such a savage–” Fred huffs, reaching over to the bedside table and the box of tissues he keeps there.

He throws them at Rafa’s chest, smirking triumphantly when the corner catches him in the nipple and Rafa swears loudly.

“Ow! Jesus, Fred, come on!”

“Serves you right. God, I can’t believe you sometimes.” Fred rolls his eyes as Rafa petulantly mutters under his breath, wiping his hand off and throwing the dirty tissues and the box over you and back at Fred.

“You know what else might make her feel better?” Rafa asks, a familiar tone in his voice. Fred looks at him, suspicious, and raises an eyebrow. “Dinner. Food possesses great healing qualities you know.” Fred snorts.

“Somehow I get the feeling that that request is not purely motivated by selflessness, Rafael Barba.” He sighs, shaking his head, unable to stop the fond smile that begins to spread over his face.

“I’ll go finish dinner,” Fred starts, wiping his chest off and looking at the wad of tissues in his lap with distaste. “Rafa, if you want to finish cleaning up here…?” You watch, drowsy, as he stands, holding the dirty tissues away from him. Rafa jostles you as he shrugs and nods.

“Want papi to stay with you? Cuddle a bit before dinner?” he asks, leaning down to kiss you and brush his nose along yours. You nod, unable to keep your eyes open any longer. You listen to the two of them bicker good naturedly as Fred dresses and Rafa gets up and moves into the bathroom, satisfied that whatever needs doing they’ll probably take care of properly.

“Thanks, Rafi,” you mutter, pushing your face further into a pillow that smells like Fred’s laundry detergent and his cologne. You feel two kisses to the side of your head.

“It’s not like we didn’t get anything out of this either, honey,” Fred jokes, running his fingers through your hair. “I can wake you up when dinner’s ready?” You nod slowly and pat at the air behind you, catching one of them in the thigh.

“Sounds good,” you mumble. “Love you.”

#rafael barba x reader #frederick chilton x reader #rafael barba x frederick chilton #rafael barba x frederick chilton x reader #rafael barba #frederick chilton #law and order svu #hannibal #fanfiiction #fan fic

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roadtogracelandx45 · 1 year

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Veiled Justice| Law and Order SVU| Masterlist

set in seasons 22-24 of Law and Order SVU and seasons one and two of Law and Order: Organized Crime.

Summary: Ressia Stabler had sworn up and down that she was never going to return back to the city after her relationship with ADA Rafael Barba ended suddenly and disastrously. But then her sister-in-law Kathy is killed in a car bombing and she knew that Elliot and her nieces and nephews needed her. She didn't expect those feelings she had for Rafael to surface again when he turned back up to defend the man that killed Kathy nor did she see herself introducing their daughter to him.

Rated T-M for language and content

The first chapter posting Sunday, Feb 19th at 12 pm MST with updates coming every Sunday

Playlist

Moodboards

Maureen Grace Stabler info

Back story one shot

posting on ao3 and ff.net as well.

Part One

One Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven Eight

Nine

Ten Eleven Tweleve

Thirteen

Fourteen Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

#ash writes #oc: grace stabler #series: veiled justice #law and order fan fiction #law and order imagines #rafael barba fan fiction #rafael barba imagines #rafael barba fic

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polkadotpenguin16 · 2 months

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#MarchFicMadness24 Rec List

Here's my contribution to @the-blind-assassin-12's March Madness Reblog Challenge: reblog 63 fics in 31 days!

Below are stories/drabbles/whatever that I enjoyed reading and give the Penguin Stamp of Approval 🐧™ (very exclusive)

Expect a lot of Carisi/Barba love 😍

Part 1 | Part 2

🥰=Fluffy 😔=Angsty 🥵=Saucy 📋=Masterlist

1. Carisi and reader's first kiss by @kryptonitejelly 🥰 Sonny Carisi x reader This is just an adorable little snippet that made my heart flutter

2. Mistakes We Knew We Were Making, Chapter 1 by @lovecarisi 🥵 Sonny Carisi x reader Hot damn - that's it, that's all my thoughts lol

3. Slow, soft love making with Barba by @adacarisi 🥵 Rafael Barba x reader This was my gateway fic into the Tumblr-SVU-Fic-Verse (came here from a random pin on Pinterest). And it is still one I enjoy going back to because it is so delightful. Anyone who enjoys smutty SVU fics should check their stuff out!

4. Sweet Tangerine by @whoevrwhatevr 🥰😔 Sonny Carisi x Rafael Barba My guilty pleasure is sick/comfort fics, and this one checks all the boxes for me. Pathetic, ill Sonny has a special place in my heart lol

5. Second Chances, Part One by @tropes-and-tales 😔🥰🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader I read this on the recommendation of @misscharlielulu, and it did NOT disappoint! It literally has everything - broken hearts, adorable dates, a sensual satisfying climax. It goes from angsty, to fluffy, to saucy, and it is near close to perfect.

6. Overtime by @storiesofsvu 😔🥰 Rafael Barba x Reader Honestly, read any of her stuff, you're guaranteed to enjoy it. I like this one in particular because it is such a well composed story. And she nailed Raf being a lovable dick 😂

7. Tears For A Good Man by @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader I always get excited when a new Sonny fic comes across my dash, and this one is just GAHHH **insert incoherent happy noises** Probably the sweetest version of Sonny you will ever come across **swoon**

8. 19 (aka losing your virginity to Sonny) part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 by @carisi-dreams 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader If I was on a deserted island and was only allowed to bring one fic to read, THIS WOULD BE IT!!!! I love how relatable the reader is, I love how attentive Sonny is, and it's just GOD DAMN HOT 🔥

9. Relaxation Therapy by @mrsrafaelbarba 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader Who doesn't want a sexy Cuban lawyer to take care of them after a long day 😏 #life is hard and barba is hot

10. You're My Dream Girl by @pascalispretty 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Apparently @misscharlielulu and I are on the same wavelength because we were both thinking about this one today lol. This one is hot, heavy, desperate and it's AMAZING

11. Line Without a Hook by @writingdayandnight 🥰 Rafael Barba x Reader This reads like a delightful romance movie, and is a beautiful alternative for Undiscovered Country-deniers (seriously, what were they thinking?!)

12. Carisi realizing he’s in love by @kryptonitejelly 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader Another adorable snippet courtesy of @kryptonitejelly - keep em coming!

13. “i’m yours, in every way possible.” by @qvid-pro-qvo 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader Y'all wanna cry happy tears? Cuz this made me cry happy tears! I found this gem last week, and have become completely obsessed.

14. HCs: Being in a Relationship with Sonny Carisi by @locke-writes 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader This is wonderfully written, in-depth, and simply put, it's heartwarming 💓

15. Rafael Barba Masterlist by @melk917 📋 Rafael Barba x Reader If you're a Barba fan, this is the Tumblr to go to! Seriously, just pick any of them. You'll find a little bit of everything, and you'll enjoy yourself.

16. A Fight With Sonny by @storytimefromthecreed 😔🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader The dialogue in this is so perfectly written. Honestly, it's #truelovegoals

17. Rain, Candlelight & Pumpkin Spice by @beccabarba 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader This one is so soft and sensual and makes me miss fall. Standout quote - "I love that you think you’re the lucky one" - I'm literally melting 🫠

18. Taken Care Of by @plaidbooks 😔🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader There are LOTS of stories out there about Sonny taking care of the reader. Not nearly as many about Sonny being cared for, and by god does that man deserve it! This is a fav of mine, Julie's so talented, and I've got 45 more fics to go so I'm sure I'll be adding more of her stuff to this list.

19. Perfect / Love Won’t Die by @cathrrrine 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader When this fic dropped, I got absolutely nothing done that day because it was the only thing I could think about. It gives you all the nice mushy feelings a good fluff piece should!

20. Movie Night by @adarafaelbarba 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader This is one of the first Rafa fics I ever read. Then I freaking lost it and thought I was imagining the whole thing. And when I finally found it again, it was even better than I remembered lol

21. Mistakes We Knew We Were Making, Chapter 2 by @lovecarisi 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Chapter 2's out y'all!

22. Public Transportation by @amaroforpresident 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader An utterly adorable meet cute 😍

23. Caught in the Act by @svuwritings 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Just absolutely filthy smut; might need a cold shower after this one.

24. 4th of July by @australiancarisi 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader I love reading fics with a focus on Sonny's family. We got such a small sliver of that part of him on the show. This fic just makes me smile ☺️

25. Decisions by @detectivesvu 😔 Rafael Barba x Reader This is a heavy read, but it's oh so good. Sidenote, this reader is a saint - I wish I could practice this level of patience lol

26. Paradise Lost & Paradise Found by @cycat4077/@cycat-carisi 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader So Tumblr will not let me reblog these for some reason, but I just had to share because I love them so much. This story breaks my damn heart and then glues it back together and I am HERE for it! All of their stuff is a joy to read 💙

27. I Want You to Touch Me by @writefasttalkevenfaster 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader Sexy bearded Barba, anyone? “I told you it wouldn’t be a bed,” - GAHH I'm blushing 😳

28. Gallery by @svu-ncis-criminalminds 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader Is "deliciously angsty" a thing? I have issues dealing with conflict in my personal life, so reading about people fighting and making up is kind of cathartic for me. It does wrap with a sweet ending.

29. Getting Flowers from Sonny by @duchesschameleon 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader I've only received flowers once from someone (who wasn't family) and I remember just how goddamn special that made me feel and this perfectly captures all those warm fuzzy feels 😊

30. "Hey, just look at me. Breathe." by @amirightcounsellor 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader Oh, to be held by Sonny after a nightmare...

31. Sonny in an accident part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 by @carisi-dreams 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader Scrolling through Violet's blog is like the best box of chocolates you've ever received - always something new and exciting to find. I cannot believe I only just read this today. I think it is a contender for my most favorite fic of all-time. Violet, I bow to your greatness 🙌

32. Unsure by @svucarisiaddict 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader I love this story so much. It really resonates with me deeply. And Sonny is such a dear in this :)

33. The Tum by @plaidbooks 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader I love me a fluffy man, and Raf deserves all the adoring attention in the world <3

34. A Misunderstanding by @minidodds 😔 Rafael Barba x Reader This is a cute shorty about a silly miscommunication.

35. Toy Box by @detective-giggles 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Did someone turn up the heat, cuz it's getting a little steamy in here. This is filthy...please enjoy 😏

36. All Wrapped Up by @melk917 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader I know the holiday season has passed, but this is a good read all year round.

37. Come Home part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 by @enamoured-x 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader In case you needed your heart torn up this evening! This whole series is amazing, I love it so much. Why do I we love to see Carisi suffer so much?!

38. Do Not Disturb by @foryouthem00n 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader I do enjoy me some Cranky Carisi lol. Can hardly believe Sonny would turn down cuddles 🥺

39. how the svu characters would react to you pranking them by texting “i miss being single” by @cathrrrine 🥰 The whole SVU gang These are all just a laugh and a half 😆 and so accurate! "Not now. I'm not done sulking yet." OMG seriously Rafa?!!

40. fluff #1 by @writingsforfandoms-multi 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader Ya know, I'm just a sucker for some domestic bliss. This one is so precious!

41. Your first five dates with Sonny… by @reddielov-e 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader This is such a fun read! Very well thought out, lots of details. "you’re an outstanding woman and you never fail to make me laugh" - ya killing me!

42. Jealousy by @minidodds 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader This is an oldy but a goody. I go back to this one whenever I'm in the mood for some angst.

43. Trust Me by @ambivertdreamer 😔 Rafael Barba x Reader I really like Rafa stories that follow the plot from Intersecting lives (wtf were you thinking giving out your address Barba?!) and seeing the fall out and consequences that the show didn't really give us. This is a great story that ties up really nicely.

44. Coming Home by @seekret-fanfic 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader Warning! Your heart may not be prepared for this amount of fluff!! I fucking LOVE this story - it pulls at the heartstrings in such a delightful way. Warms my cold dead heart 🖤

45. On Takeout and Yoga by @inflagranteinnuendo 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Not your conventional smut piece. This is so well written. I love the flow of the whole story. I love the build up to ending. I love just how goddamn sweet and endlessly understanding Sonny is!!

46. SVU guys picking out engagement rings by @adacarisi 🥰 Sonny Carisi, Rafael Barba, Mike Dodds I've been a wedding-y mood recently, and this just tickles my fancy.

#marchficmadness24 #63 stories in 31 days #fic rec #sonny carisi x reader #rafael barba x reader

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melk917 · 7 months

Text

We can do it in the pouring rain

Warnings: Making out, promises of future filth

Rating: M

Pairing: Rafael Barba x f!Reader

Summary: The heat finally breaks

Song Vibes: Gimme Shelter, The Rolling Stones

Notes: What? A fic? From me? Who am I?!

Honestly, this is the first time I've opened my personal computer since moving in May. This is rough, super under edited, and not my best work, but it is finished! And so here you go, only a few years gap between this and the last time I posted something from this series. Please let me know if there are any typos or errors!

Motivation and inspiration coming from a straight week of rain here in New York, peaking with the city flooding and all transport shutting down. It was charming here....

It had felt like New York was holding its breath for days—that sort of late August heat that lays heavy on the city. It was thick, swollen, and hot, the only relief coming from the rush of air as the subway charged past the platform. No matter what you did, sweat poured off of you. Going anywhere, moving at all really, was too much. It left you exhausted and irritable. You were ready to start sacrificing to the gods if the infernal heat would just break. Surely it was close? The air was so thick, you swore you could feel it pass over your skin as you walked, like the cling of a damp curtain in the shower, irritating but determined.

Even sitting inside at the bar at Forlini’s, you felt like you were melting, sweat making your thighs stick to the cracked leather of the stool. The A/C unit above the door groaned and wheezed, rattling away in vain as it struggled to cool the restaurant. Despite its best efforts, sweat trickled down the back of your neck, dampening the back of your shirt and leaving you utterly miserable.

Rafael, on the other hand, seemed perfectly composed. His only concession to the heat was to abandon his jacket and roll his sleeves. He had pulled his tie loose, but had yet to remove it completely. He wasn’t flushed. He wasn’t even sweating. You hated him just a little bit for it. Even more for the amused twist of his lips when you shifted again, fanning yourself with the menu.

“You doing ok over there?” He raised his eyebrows at you, humor laced through the question as you pressed your glass to your neck, hoping the ice in your drink would cool you down.

You leveled a glare at him. “You know, the A/C actually works in the apartment. We can even mix our own drinks there. And the shower has endless cold water.”

He scooted closer as more people filed in and pressed up against the bar next to him. You grunted in displeasure as he invaded your personal space and you could feel the body heat radiating off him in waves. He huffed in amusement and ducked forward to press a kiss behind your ear as he took your glass from your hand and placed it back on the counter. He stroked his thumb along the line of your neck, tracing the path left behind by the condensation on the glass. You tried to squirm away, but the sudden influx of patrons had him now almost flush against you with nowhere to go.

“There room for two in that shower if I promise to get you home now?” His voice was low and the brush of his breath across your skin had you shivering despite the heat.

You snorted and shoved at him lightly so you could get out, wincing when you had to practically peel yourself off the leather. “Stop sharing your infernal body heat with me and we’ll see.”

He lifted his eyes to nod at the bartender before pulling you the rest of the way to your feet. The press of bodies had gotten tighter and the next chime of the bell over the door brought with it the yelps and shrieks of people ducking inside and the thick smell of petrichor.

“Oh shit.”

Your heart sank at the view out the windows.The heat had finally broken, and broken spectacularly. You could hardly see the street through the curtain of water. A cloud burst, dumping without warning.

“Fuck we should go. Call a car. We don’t want to get stuck on this side of the bridge.”

He was a step ahead of you, already scrolling through the apps on his phone. You peered through the glass, watching water rush down Baxter Street, eddies and rivers running through the gutters.The rain was coming down so fast the city struggled to drain effectively.

Behind you Rafael cursed softly, and when you turned, his eyebrows were almost in his hairline.

“$180 to Brooklyn,” he explained, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Shit.” You breathed out hard and bounced on your toes one, twice, three times. “Fuck it. Canal is right around the corner.”

Rafael’s head jerked up in surprise. His gazed dropped, eyeing your silk blouse and flats skeptically. “You really want to run for it?” He ran a nervous hand over his silk tie.

“Last time a storm broke this fast, people were stranded in Manhattan overnight. I’m not sleeping in your office.”

His lips parted and he looked for half a second like he was going to object. But then he was breathing out hard, popping open his briefcase to shove his jacket and tie inside. “Fine. But you’re dealing with the dry cleaning.”

“Run fast, and maybe you won’t have to worry about that,” you taunted back with a smirk and tugged the door open, ducking out in the street, Rafael right behind you.

You were immediately dumped on, assaulted by sheets and sheets of rain. It hit you like a slap across the face, cool and sharp, soaking your hair and clothes. The sheer volume of water made you gasp and curse. You took off down the street in the direction of the subway, Rafael at your heels, swearing and holding his briefcase over his head as a makeshift umbrella.

The Canal Street stop really was just around the corner, but it made no difference. The rainfall was so heavy that it obscured critical information until you were right in front of it: the construction materials and tape that was strung up across the entrance, blocking the stairs. This particular subway entrance was closed.

“Fuck!” you shouted, shading your eyes from the rain and casting around for Rafael, unable to see him through the fall of water.

You were utterly saturated, your blouse soaked through and clinging tight to your body like saran wrap. Rafael wasn’t faring much better as he pulled up next to you, splashing his way along. Rain water was pouring off him, cascading down the sides of his face, over his chest. His shirt was plastered to his skin, white fabric gone transparent and clinging to the muscles of his chest, his arms. In another time and place, you would have appreciated the view. As it was, there were more pressing matters.

“What now?” Rafael was squinting, wiping at the water in his eyes as he pitched his voice to be heard above the rain.

Before you could open your mouth to answer, a cab drove by, tearing down the street at a speed that was highly inadvisable in the low visibility and kicking up a wave of water from the gutter, sending it crashing over both of you.

You stood frozen, eyes and mouth wide in shock. You expected a shout or a curse from Rafael, at least. Some threat against the universe for ruining his suit. But instead there was a long pause and you turned slowly to face him. He met your eyes, resembling a drowned rat more than anything else. He looked just as shocked as you, mouth gaping, holding his arms away from his sides as though it might keep the water off of him. He paused, chest expanding as he took a deep breath (for the tirade of curses against the rain, you assumed). But instead he threw his head back, laughing. Full, loud, and bright as the crack of lightning that flashed across the city skyline. And when he finally straightened up to look at you, he shook his head, water flying everywhere.

“We’re fucked!” You threw your arms in the air.

“I know!” he shouted back, grinning.

Your annoyance flared hot, and you wiped at your eyes angrily, cursing when you pulled your fingers away to see them smeared with mascara, the water catching on your eyelashes and making it run. He was still laughing, mirth loud enough to be audible over the rain.

“What the hell are you so happy about?”

He raised an eyebrow at you and smirked. Your silk shirt was completely saturated with the rain water and plastered to your breasts, your nipples hard and obvious through the thin fabric. He dragged his gaze down your body and back with a significant look.

You crossed your arms, frowning, shoulders hunched to hide from his leering with a glare. It did little to hide anything, just pushing them up further for him to appreciate.

And he was undeterred by the dirty looks you threw in his direction, advancing on you slowly, a predatory sway to his step. You took half a step back and then another in a futile attempt to put space between you as he crowded close, advancing until your back hit something hard, the nearest building pulling you up short. Your breath caught, the rough brick snagging on the thin silk of your shirt, scratching at your back and pulling at your hair. His eyes flashed, triumphant as he leaned close. He dipped his chin to slowly drag the point of his nose along your neck, nuzzling. His breath was hot, the contrast with the cool rain making you shiver against him, a tiny flare of want pulsing low in your belly against your better judgment.

“Rafael.” You injected as much steel as you could in your voice, a warning. The insolent smile he gave you in response did not indicate success.

“This was your idea,” he reminded you, breath warm on your skin as he pressed an open-mouth kiss behind your ear.

You managed to swallow the small, pathetic whimper that threatened to slip out in response, even as your fingers curled into the sodden fabric of his shirt. Not shoving him away, but not pulling him close either.

“Not this idea,” you managed, voice going breathy when he pressed another kiss to the same spot, scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin this time. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

He pulled back just far enough to meet your eyes, a single suggestive eyebrow inching up. “I think we just got everything out of the gutter.”

You snorted in spite of yourself and he winked. The rain was still coming down in sheets, but he was catching the brunt of it now as he leaned over you, beating down on his back and shoulders, catching on the ends of his hair, dripping off his nose to fall on your cheeks as he pressed close.

“We need to get home,” you pointed out, but he only hummed in response, ducking back low to brush his lips over the shell of your ear.

“No cab is going to take us if we’re soaked through,” you tried again, breath mingling with his as he turned, lips just grazing yours in a tease that made your breath catch and your fingers clench in his shirt.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re already soaked through.” His voice was a low, amused rumble as he pressed light kisses along your jaw, licking lightly at the rainwater that continued to run down from your hair.

He was right of course. His shirt was plastered to his torso, white fabric gone translucent. You shoved lightly at him till he leaned back, and you couldn’t help but drop your gaze to take in the shape of him. How the shirt molded to all the curves and angles of him, his biceps and pecs obvious, every minute twitch and flex clear. Heat flared in you unbidden, licking up your spine as he slipped his one hand under your shirt to splay across your low back. His modesty was only preserved by his undershirt or you were certain you’d see his nipples, conspicuous and dark, through the fabric. It was honestly a shame about the undershirt you thought, flattening your hands on his chest, swallowing the soft noise that threatened to slip out at the feel of his muscles shifting as he stroked your skin.

He smirked down at you, clearly following the path your thoughts had taken. You tweaked a nipple through his shirt in retaliation, and he jerked, grunting.

You went to repeat the motion and he grabbed your wrist, pressing it to the wall up next to your head. Want flared bright in you like the burst of lightning that cut through the sky.

“This was your idea,” he reminded you, an amused twitch to his lips as he leaned down again, his breath ghosting across your skin.

You shivered then gasped as he scraped his teeth down your throat. “My idea was to take the train. This is not taking the train.”

He hummed, kissing his way back up your neck. “No. No, it’s not.”

“We should do that.”

“In a minute.” He ducked low to brush another kiss across your lips. Your breath caught in your throat as those long, clever fingers dipped under the waistband of your skirt, stroking. “We’re stuck here now. Might as well make the best of it.”

“And what’s that?” You slid your hands up his sides, feeling the solid shape of him through the shirt, the heat of him, before curling them in the sodden fabric and tugging him forward before he could answer.

The thud of his brief case hitting the pavement was lost over the roar of the rain and he had you boxed you in, one forearm pressed into the brick next to your head as he used the other to cradle your jaw in a firm grip, tilting your head as he dipped down to press his lips to yours.

The kiss was feather light, in contrast to your urgent tugging, warm rain running across your lips as he met yours with quick, barely there presses, teasing. You could feel the flex of his chest under your palms, the solid weight of him, and you tugged more insistently, chasing his mouth.

He laughed (the bastard), his breath brushing hot across your lips. “I thought you wanted to head to the train?” he murmured against your mouth in between kisses.

You pulled back enough to glare at him and slid both hands into his wet hair in retaliation, gripping tight and pulling him back down to you to kiss him hard. You felt the rumble of his answering groan where his chest was pressed firm against yours as he fought you for control of the kiss, working his tongue against the seam of your lips until you parted them, gasping, and he licked into your mouth, swallowing the soft, needy sound that bubbled up unbidden.

The kiss was hot, like the press of the August heat, and burned pleasantly as you chased the last of the whiskey he drank earlier. Moaning, you curled your hands over his biceps to haul him closer, opening up to him. Water was dripping down his face from his hair in rivulets, pooling in his collarbone under his shirt.

His hands skated down your sides to grasp your hips, your thighs. He scraped his teeth down your neck and you gasped, arching to press into his hold and chase that urgent electricity that raced down your spine to pool in your stomach. He took advantage, licking lightly at the rainwater that was pooling in your collar bone before applying lips and tongue to the thin skin at the base of your throat, working until he could feel the heat of your blood rushing to the surface, leaving a mark, dark and obvious against your skin. The pain of bursting vessels had you gasping, fingers digging into his biceps as you rolled your hips forward, heat flaring between your legs as he marked you up.

He groaned as you rolled your hips again, firm against his, the hard line of his cock obvious through his soaked pants. It was impossible to differentiate where the heat was coming from now, his whole body throwing it off in waves like a furnace. With an urgent noise, he hauled you closer, tugging your leg up and wide until the two of you slotted together perfectly. He rocked against you, grinding his cock along the line of your hip, and dipped his head further, ducking down so he could pull the open collar of your shirt aside with his teeth and lick at the curve of your breasts, chasing the rain as it traced a stream in the valley between. The water made them glisten, and he couldn’t help it, applying lips and teeth and tongue to every inch of soft flesh he could reach.

Both of you had forgotten the rain at this point. Nothing registered other than the press of your bodies together and the fervor you’re stoking between the two of you. You were so caught up in him, his mouth on your breasts, his cock hard against your hip, loving how every tug on his hair made him lose focus and rut against you. In retaliation, or maybe just blind need, Rafa slid his hand down your thigh and back up under your sodden skirt, fingers brushing against your soaked panties, groaning at the slick heat of you.

A sharp wolf-whistle cut through the sound of the rain and your lust, a group of teenagers running past on the sidewalk, their shouts and encouragement breaking the spell you had spun between the two of you.

Rafa pulled back so fast, you almost fell over, his face flushing bright red as he cast around for the voyeurs. You reached up to cup his face, turning him back to you and grinned as he used the hand he had just had up your skirt to push his soaked hair back from his face.

“Maybe now it’s time we headed to the train,” he suggested, more than a little abashed.

You dropped a significant look at his crotch, the soaked fabric of his pants clinging to his cock and making his arousal painfully obvious. “I think you might get arrested for indecent exposure with that, counselor.”

He followed your gaze and huffed a laugh, cheeks bright red. He shifted from foot to foot and tried to pull his slacks away, but to no avail. Finally, he picked his briefcase up off the ground and held it in front of the issue, giving you a small, triumphant grin. He held out his other hand and squeezed when you laced your fingers together.

“Come on." You grinned at him through the rain. "Let’s get home and you can fuck me in the shower. I’ll even keep my clothes on to keep the fantasy alive.”

Rafa snorted and used your joint hands to pull you close so he could lean in and kiss you, quick and full of promise.

“Ok, but I’m taking mine off. I’d like to at least keep the illusion that this suit can be saved.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but laughed at the serious look on his face. “Whatever you want, dear.”

#rafael barba #law and order svu #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fic #rafael barba x f!reader #the full ratchet #melk917fantasybingo #svu fic

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valentinesfrog · 11 months

Note

🥝 for the fanfic thingy :)

My NOTP: Okay so there’s actually not a lot that I won’t read. I actually kinda love Bensler but rarely write it bc IDK how to realistically write Elliot. I didn’t think I’d like AEO but I read some fantastic fic that changed me on a molecular level and now I kinda love it. I love Cabenson, Cabenovak, Calex, Calvak, Novelly, Calinda, whatever. Any of the WLW ships make me happy.

For some reason I cannot view Barba as anything other than a gay man, probably bc I read fics of him as gay before watching the show so I fully believed he was canonically gay for a long time, but I’ll still read and enjoy Barson and Barhoun for the hell of it, even if they’re completely platonic in my brain. (Rafael and Rita are my ultimate platonic soulmates ship I love them)

Ummmm back to the question I really don’t like Bensidy I think. I tried reading Finlivia once and that freaked me out because they are siblings. I also never watched the canon Tucker/Liv arc so I don’t quite see the appeal in that but if I watched it I’d probably like it more. Also not a fan of Benisi and Benmaro but I rarely see those.

I found some Cragen/Alex fic once and stared at that tag in horror for so long that I didn’t even read it so I can’t judge it but that made me unhappy. Not to yuck anyone’s yum, but…

Sorry to go off on a tangent. Had to think a lot to answer this one.

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youreverycolor · 3 years

Text

hello. is it me you’re looking for?

If I published a new chapter of An Unlikely Love, would anyone read it? I worry that I've been dormant too long and no one will be interested anymore.

Life's been difficult. Writing has been difficult. I'm not loving being a lawyer, and I wish I had more energy for anything other than work. But I want to come back to writing Anna and Rafael... if there's anyone who wants me to come back, that is.

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba fan fiction #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fan fic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x oc #ada rafael barba #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #l&o:svu #raul esparza #svu #an unlikely love #my fic #svu fanfiction

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rocket-dancer · 5 years

Text

I didn’t intend to somehow start an SVU fic?? But yet, here we are.

Enjoy a peek into this BarbaxOC fic. She may be ~a bit Mary Sue but I promise it'll be a good time.

---------------------------------------------------------------`

“So, what you’re saying,” she started slowly, her eyes connecting again with his, “is that this has been going on. That you’ve been threatened for some time and you’re just now telling me.”

“It wasn’t serious before.”

“ANY threat is fucking serious!” Esmée exclaimed, her free arm flying into the air with emphasis. “How could you just ignore this?!”

“People talk, Ez. Empty threats are nothing new to my job. And that’s all this was.”

“But it’s not anymore! Now, it’s very fucking real apparently! So real that you have protection, and so do I!”

“It’s still likely nothing,” Rafael argued. “Just because it’s shifted to in-person, that’s still a small escalation. It’s not a guarantee that something will happen to me, or you.”

“Are you insane?” she scoffed, shaking her head. “Someone has approached you to threaten you, and you think that’s nothing? Rafael, that is the exact opposite of nothing! These people know who you are, know how to find you! This is real!”

“Esmée, please….”

“NO!” She cut him off, angry tears starting to well in her eyes. “You should have told me. This is not nothing.”

“I didn’t think it would come to this.”

“Yea, you’re right, clearly you didn’t think.”

It strung to hear her sound so angry towards him. He’d been trying to protect her all this time, but she wasn’t seeing that. He’d thought the less she knew, the better. This had nothing to do with her, not really, and he truly felt he’d be able to handle it without bringing her into it. This was all likely an overreaction to the situation that would become moot. Threats weren’t anything new to him, and this would likely play out the same—into nothing.

“Ez, please, amor, listen to me,” he began to plead, an unusual move for him. “It will almost certainly be nothing at the end of the day. This is just…precautionary.”

“Well, that’s clearly a risk you’re willing to take,” she replied, almost bitterly, definitely annoyed. He watched as she turned back to the fridge, taking out the wine bottle, refilling her drink. She kept her back to him as she put the bottle away, and lifted her arm to take a long swallow from her glass. “It’s…whatever. Just, let me be for now.” She began to walk out of the kitchen at the conclusion of her sentence.

“Don’t walk away,” he requested, feeling his stomach and heart twist.

“I have to,” Esmée stated. “Because if I don’t…. Just give me some space, please. I need…I can’t do this right now.”

Rafael’s throat tightened, his face pinching, his eyes stinging. He couldn’t say anything as he watched her move out of the kitchen, her back eventually disappearing down the hallway towards the bedroom. Their bedroom. He wanted to go after her, follow her, not let her leave his sight. But he found himself stuck in place.

He squeezed at his glass, finally moving towards the living room. He sunk into the couch, slowly sipping the liquor as his brain continued to mull over every moment that led to the here and now. This wasn’t how things were meant to be.

TO. BE. CONTINUED. STARTED. ENDED. THOSE THINGS.

#rafael barba #law and order svu #rafael barba fan fic #Law & Order: SVU #law & order fan fic #lo:svu fan fic #low and order fan fic #rafael barba x reader #fan fiction #need motivation to really tackle this #svu fan fiction

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malevolent-muse · 4 months

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Just some Barisi art I did a few years back for a friend's fic.

Like this work? Join the Tag List

#barisi #rafael barba #sonny carisi #fan art #fic art #law and order svu #svu fic #svu

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vintagemichelle91 · 6 years

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Be The One- Rafael Barba x Miss Fashionista

Author’s note: Happy Valentines Day (or rather early since I decided to post this the night before)!! Trying my best to show Rafael Barba all the love in the world, especially after last week. Anyway, moving on to much happier things! Let us check back in with Barba and Miss Fashionista on their amazing trip to Switzerland! Thank you all for the support! I really appreciate it and I hope you enjoy this!!! @rauliskafan thank you so much for helping shape this up into something wonderful!

Song Inspiration: Be the One -Dua Lipa

I see in blue

Oh, and you see everything in red

And there’s nothing that I wanna do for you

Do for you

Oh, ‘cause you got inside my head

“Can we stay longer, please?” You batted your long fluttery lashes at Rafael, and he could not help but smirk at just how you easily won him over.

Nevertheless, he took advantage of the opportunity to tease you. “What about work?”

If it weren’t for the slight amusement in his tone you would have thought that your dashing man was serious. “Oh, I am sure both of our jobs can survive without us another week or so.”

You winked at him through the mirror, and his smile grew. The way your eyes lit up when you were trying to sway him into your ways was irresistible. Persuasion was something that you mastered thanks to him. From time to time, you pulled it out of your designer sleeve and enchanted him even more.

“Then I guess I’m glad I booked this suite for just a few more nights,” he replied nonchalantly as he came up to stand behind you. His arms enveloped your waist as he held you close to him.

“Mr. Barba, you sure know how to win a girl’s heart.”

His emerald eyes sparkled as he whispered, “Only the best one. And she is standing right before me.”

A pink flush tinted across your cheeks, and Rafael kissed your exposed nape. Your crimson off the shoulder Saint Laurent dress felt soft to the touch as his massive hands roamed around, exploring every inch of your curves. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into him and lost yourself in his scent.

“Mmm… keep this up and you’re going to make us late, Mr. Barba.”

“Fashionably late can be a valid excuse.” His lips gently nipped away at your soft skin, and your hands fell on top of his as you guided them across your body. “Or…”

You sighed at the prospect of spending the rest of the evening in bed. “Not going at all, and we just order room service and stay here all night.” Your voice was breathy and hopeful as his hands pushed the fabric of your dress up your creamy thighs.

“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t want to miss these reservations and the chance to show you off in this dress.” Rafael gave you one tantalizing kiss before he pulled your dress down and left you to finish getting ready.

“You’re such a tease, Rafael!”

He chuckled and paused by the door for a minute, taking in the sight of you once more. “And you, Miss Fashionista, are my dream come true.”

Oh, baby come on, let me get to know you

Just another chance so that I can show

That I won’t let you down,

Oh no

No, I won’t let you down, oh no

‘cause I could be the one

I could be the one

Switzerland had been an absolute dream. Frankly, the entire two weeks off had been a dream from which you did not want to wake up. Everything from the skiing adventures to the quiet relaxing moments at the spa was exactly what you had envisioned for the perfect vacation. You had, for the most part ceased doing anything work-related save for a few emails and phone calls. It was as if the stress just evaporated into thin air, and you hoped to not let it back in for a while. All your attention had remained on Rafael and vice versa. What you enjoyed most about this trip was just how at ease the man looked. He smiled more, seemed to be up to trying new things without any reluctance and was finally getting the rest he so desperately needed. It was the change of snowy scenery and the fact that the two of you were devoting time to each other. The thought of leaving this whimsical and romantic place made you want to cry.

Gently, you dabbed the corner of your eyes as Rafael told the waiter to bring a bottle of Veuve-Clicqout champagne. The last thing you wanted was to ruin your make-up or for Rafael to see you cry.

“You alright?” Damn, he probably spotted you out of the corner of his eye. Despite his absorption in his career, he always noticed everything about you.

A small smile managed to form across your red lips, and you slowly nodded your head, “Yeah. Something must have gotten into my eye.” Brushing off your emotions just made the corner of your eyes prick again, and you had to suck in a short for fear you would let another tear fall.

The atmosphere of the restaurant was a quiet buzz with the sounds of smooth jazz music floating through the room. Rafael reached for your hand across the table, “Are you sure? If something isn’t to your liking, you know you can tell me.”

“It’s not that, Rafael. Everything is…” You took the moment to look around the classy, sleek restaurant, and your sparkling eyes darted toward the massive windows that overlooked the shores of Lake Geneva. “It is all so beautiful. And I’m dreading going back.”

Rafael’s green eyes softened, and he gripped your hand tighter. “I know. Believe me, I even started looking into the laws to see if I could transfer…”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Wouldn’t that be something? And I can certainly see about a transfer here from the magazine.” You dipped your spoon into your dessert of white mille fueille, which was Tahitian vanilla cream with jasmine jelly, and offered some to Rafael.

“I am really starting to consider this,” Rafael replied as he gladly tried your treat.

“Me too. But for now, let’s just enjoy the last bit of our trip.” Your reply was a bit more serious because it wasn’t so much the place but the man sitting right in front of you. Rafael made everything magical, and as long as you had him by your side, that was all you really needed.

“Agreed and that deserves a toast.” Right on cue, the waiter showed up with the bottle of champagne and two crystal glasses. Rafael seemed slightly nervous. You hadn’t noticed until now. His expressive hands seemed to fiddle slightly and he ran a hand through his dark hair.

“We deserve the toast and most definitely you,” you gently corrected as you held the glass and waited as Rafael dug into his breast pocket. “Rafael…”

Before you could say anything else, Rafael pulled out a small black velvet box and set it before you. Your dessert and the drink were now long forgotten as your eyes glanced down at the little box. Suddenly, the butterflies in your lower tummy fluttered wildly.

“I think you deserve the toast because you have brought so much color into my black and white life,” he started. “I’ve never felt more alive and being with you… I feel like I’m soaring. Like I’m free…most of all free. And I would very much like it if you would share all of that and more with me… forever.” Rafael opened the box revealing a pink and white diamond ring that left you breathless.

The tears spilled down your cheeks, and at this point, you could care less about your make-up.

You glanced up at him, seeing truth and love in his gorgeous green orbs. Oh, how those eyes made your heart melt instantly. Memories flashed before your eyes… when you first met him in that line at the coffee shop and you had no idea that was the man you had been talking to for several weeks. The first official meeting at that swanky Manhattan bar. The next day’s coffee date, and everything ever since suddenly spiraled into a beautiful melody that you would cherish.

Forever.

I could be the one

Be the one, be the one

Will you be mine?

“Will… will you do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”

Reality returned to full force and pulled you back to this precise moment where the world stopped spinning. The words struggled to form on your lips, but you furiously nodded as the tears continued to spill down your cheeks. The small crowd in the restaurant erupted into an applause as Rafael slipped the sparkling ring onto your finger.

“Yes, yes! A million times yes!” you finally said as he stood up and embraced you tightly. His kiss upon your lips was perfect, and he was also crying a bit along with you. Happy tears for you both as you simply held each other and kissed once more, never wanting the moment to end…

…but also delighting in the idea of all the moments yet to come.

Tagging: @yourtropegirl @dreila03 @rauliskafan @dreila03 @skittle479 @delia26 @minidodds @fortheloveofallthingsraul

A/N: To anyone else that wishes to be tagged for future stories please let me know!

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fan fic #raul esparza #law and order: svu #rafael barba x miss fashionista #raúl esparza

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 2 years

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Well yeah.....🤯🥺

Photo: Facebook

#fan fic writer #ada rafael barba #rafael barba #nick amaro #detective nick amaro #sonny carisi #law and order svu #miguel galindo #bishop losa #obishop losa #mayans mc

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madpanda75 · 4 years

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“Taking Chances Part 10: The Perfect Gift”

Part 10 is here! Not gonna lie, this chapter is short and not my best work but a necessary bridge to get to the climax of our story! Fair warning, it ends on a cliffhanger. Enjoy! ❤️

It was the Tuesday after the dramatic Carisi lunch. You typically had Mondays off from the gallery and after fucking Rafael senseless in front of the fireplace, it didn’t take much convincing on your part to get him to play hooky. The majority of your day was spent in bed— making love, browsing through Netflix, and eating Chinese takeout. It was a much needed escape from your chaotic lives and you still had a few more hours before reality set in.

The brilliant warm rays of the early morning sun peeked through your curtains. You languorously stretched your limbs, reveling in the sensation of your bare legs against the soft cotton sheets. With a long, drawn out yawn, you reached over to the nightstand for your cup of coffee and aimlessly flipped through a copy of the New Yorker. However your attention was otherwise preoccupied with a freshly showered Rafael walking around your bedroom with a towel hanging low around his hips. You nearly spilled your hot drink into your lap while counting the water droplets on Rafael’s bare chest, watching one droplet slide down his stomach towards his happy trail.

He let the towel drop to the floor and began to get dressed for work, arching his brow when he caught you perched on the edge of the bed staring at him with your jaw hanging wide open.

You blushed and cleared your throat. “Are you sure I can’t make you breakfast?”

“Thanks for the offer but I should try to get to the office early,” he said, holding up two ties for you to choose from.

You picked the silk violet tie. The purple hue brought out your boyfriend’s brilliant green eyes. “Ok, but promise me that you’ll eat something other than the stale pretzels at the precinct.”

“I promise.” Rafael gave you a quick peck on the lips and wrapped his tie around his neck when he realized that he was missing a key element to his wardrobe. “Where’s my shirt? I swore it was right here a min—” His search for the missing shirt came to a screeching halt when he noticed you were wearing it.

“Sorry babe.” A nervous giggle escaped your lips. “Who knew Armani made such comfortable clothes and besides I love how it smells.”

Rafael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “How it smells?”

“Uh huh.” Your cheeks turned bright pink and you nervously fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “It smells like you.”

An warm, fuzzy feeling coursed through Rafael’s veins at your confession. He cupped your face and tenderly kissed you before pulling away. “If you love the shirt so much, then it’s yours.”

“Really?” You glanced down at his undershirt and the tie draped around his neck. “But what are you gonna wear?”

“I have a spare shirt in my office that I keep in case of emergency coffee stains.”

You beamed brightly and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Best boyfriend ever,” you murmured against his lips before kissing him.

He deepened the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue as his hands inched further down your back towards your ass. You moaned in response, feeling him squeeze your cheeks.

“Mi amor,” he said between kisses. “I have to go.”

“No. Five more minutes. Please,” you whined, pressing your body against his.

Rafael groaned, all the blood from his brain rushing towards his cock. You were playing a dangerous game. “If we keep this up in five more minutes I’m going to be between your legs, fucking you so hard that you’ll forget your own name.”

You nuzzled against his neck as your hand began to palm his growing erection. “Well they do say that testosterone is higher in the morning. Care to put that theory to the test?”

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone.

With a sigh of defeat, you stopped. “Alright, can’t blame a girl for trying.” You planted one last chaste kiss on the tip of his nose and gently pushed him towards the door. “Go on. Get outta here.”

“I’ll see you later tonight.” He grabbed his jacket and left the bedroom only to return 30 seconds later. “I forgot something.”

“What did you—” Rafael cut you off with a passionate kiss causing you both to fall back on the bed. Your heart fluttered. You were so lost in the moment that you forgot how to breathe. You could taste him on your tongue. All too soon the kiss ended and you were left dazed with thoroughly soaked panties.

“I love you,” he purred and playfully nipped on your lower lip before leaving with a smug smile firmly planted on his face.

“Love you too,” you mumbled and held up the shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply.

*****

A few hours later you were sitting in the small studio at the back of the gallery, dotting leaves onto a canvas. You skipped to the next song on your playlist and stepped back to analyze your work. The painting was of a large, vibrant tree in the center of a grey, bleak city. The tree was designed to look like Rafael. Its leaves matched the color of his eyes. Of course it wasn’t typical for trees to have seafoam green leaves but that was the beauty of art. You even tried to sketch his face in the trunk, its bark resembling his crooked smile and strong aquiline nose.

Underneath the tree stood the shadowy figure of a woman meant to be you. The tree’s branches were outstretched, gently caressing you, comforting you. In the palms of your hands, you cradled your heart, offering it to the tree as the only possession you had to give. In your opinion, it was the perfect depiction of your relationship. Rafael was your protector. With him, you felt loved, safe, hopeful for the future. He symbolized a new chapter in your life.

Your “Rafael-inspired” piece was meant to be a surprise, since the elusive search for the perfect art for his home was still ongoing. Lucky for him, inspiration struck one rainy Saturday several weeks ago. Well, lazy for you. Rafael was busy typing away on his laptop. Snuggling against him with the rain pattering against the window, a flood of emotions washed over you. The next day you woke up before dawn, grabbed your brushes and paint and snuck over to the studio.

From above the sound of your music playing through your headphones, you heard the door open and turned your head to see your coworker, Phoebe, walk in.

“Bonjour, ma petite aubergine!” she said in a tone that was way too chipper for 8:30 in the morning.

You snorted a laugh and turned off your music. “Good morning, my little eggplant?” you repeated the phrase.

“I love eggplant,” she replied with a shrug and went to stand behind you, surveying your work. “Hmmm… I like it.”

You made a face. “You sure? It’s not too cheesy?”

She hemmed and hawed for a moment before answering. “A little, but that’s ok. It's the good kind of cheesy.”

A sigh below past your lips. “You sure?”

“Absolutely,” she tried to reassure you. “And anyways, love makes people cheesy.” You blushed and went back to your painting while she milled around the room looking at your other pieces. “Ya’ know, there’s a new artist night at this gallery my friend works for. You should reach out to them. See if they’ll let you show your art. There are enough pieces here to choose from.” You opened your mouth to speak but she cut you off. “And before you say anything, I don’t wanna hear any excuses.” She gently took you by the shoulders and made you stand to face her. “You are incredibly talented and you should share that talent with the world while making a few bucks in the process.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you conceded, glancing back at your unfinished canvas.

Phoebe’s eyes widened. “I am? I mean, of course I am! Damn, this is the first time I’ve ever heard you consider doing a show. That Rafael guy must be a good influence on you.”

“Yeah, he’s the best.” You smiled, thinking back to earlier that morning.

“Speaking of which,”—she grabbed a spare chair and sat down, getting comfortable—“how did the whole ‘meet the parents’ scenario play out?”

You threw your head back and groaned. “Ugh, why did you have to remind me?”

“Uh-oh. Sounds like we’re gonna need coffee.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’m gonna get a cappuccino from the cafe around the corner. Can I get you something?”

“An Americano and a cinnamon roll.”

“Be back in a flash. I wanna hear all about it. Family drama sustains me, especially when it’s not mine,” she teased before leaving.

You rolled your eyes and began to tidy up. While you stood at the sink, cleaning your brushes, watching the colors swirl and dissolve down the drain, you wondered if Rafael would like his surprise. You hoped he would. It took you hours to get just the right shade of green.

This gift was a big deal. Apart from your parents, you had never created a piece for anyone else. Your art was private. It was personal. Giving it away was like giving away a part of you. But you and Rafael were beyond that. This past weekend only confirmed what you had known from the moment he stepped into the gallery— that you were his, completely.

The sound of the door opening snapped you out of reverie. “That was fast, Phoebe,” you said over the running water. “I guess the cute barista wasn’t working today cause normally you spend a solid twenty minutes flirting before actually ordering your drink. I’m almost finished here. Give me a sec and then I can tell you about the worst Sunday lunch in the history of the Carisi family and that includes the time my Aunt Anita stabbed my Uncle Tony with a fork. ”

“Awww c’mon, babe. It wasn’t that bad,” said a voice that you recognized all too well.

Stunned, your hands froze, the brushes clanging against the sink. “This can’t be happening. Please, God don’t let it be him,” you thought, slowly turning around only to find your ex-fiancé standing right in the middle of your studio.

“Theo,” you stammered. “What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question and took a step towards you with a sinister smile that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Tag List: @glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @mgarner1227 @dreila03 @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales @thecraziestcrayon @goodluckfindingone @scarletsoldierrr @youreverycolor @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @imagine-all-the-imagines @imjustreallynosy @graniairish @ashley-chi @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613 @mysterioustrashadventures @that-girl-named-alex @scapricciatello @mrsrafaelbarba @zizzlekwum @katierpblogg @crowleysqueenofhell @caked-crusader @garturbo @rachelxwayne

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fan #barba #barba fanfic #barba imagine #barba x reader #law and order svu fanfic #law and order svu imagine #barba fic #taking chances

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

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Out Tonight (Part 1)

Part 2 ->

Summary: Barba would never admit to being a RENT geek, but when he gets drunk and no one from the SVU squad is there to see him, he can’t resist the siren call of the karaoke stage. You would never approach a stranger at a bar, but when you hear Barba singing your favorite musical, you gather the courage to ask for a duet.

Rafael Barba x Female Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Dub-con!! Everyone is enthusiastically willing, but also super drunk. So... use your best judgement. (No smut this chapter just some intense kissing)

4,144 words

The thing about Scotch whisky is, it’s a drink meant to be sipped. A.D.A. Rafael Barba drank a Scotch every day, especially after a difficult case. One or two, mulled upon over the course of an hour.

At over 40 percent alcohol by volume, the practical difference between Scotch, the gentleman’s drink favored by lawyers and Wall Street executives, and the tequila swigged by rednecks ripping their shirts off at a dive bar is the speed at which the beverages are consumed.

The thing about being a Scotch drinker is, you’re only ever one particularly bad day and a few extra drams carelessly tipped down the hatch away from getting well and truly shitfaced.

This would never happen to A.D.A. Barba. He had complete control of himself at all times. In the courtroom. In his manner of dress. In his speech. He won cases other prosecutors wouldn’t dare to take on, because he was meticulous. He was relentless. And he never let his guard down.

But on this particular day, nothing was going according to plan. All week, in fact, a case he was certain of had been falling apart piece by piece, slipping through his fingers, until today, a man who made Barba’s stomach sicken walked out of the courtroom a free man.

It was his fault. He got cocky. The victims subjected themselves to retraumatization just to testify on the hope of getting some kind of justice, and it was all for nothing. He let them down. He let the SVU team down. The look on Benson’s face when the foreman delivered the not guilty verdict made Barba want to crawl inside himself.

So he did what he always did on bad days, and went to his favorite bar alone to sit quietly and numb his sorrows over a glass of Macallan.

Except it wasn’t fucking quiet. This was supposed to be a subdued, sophisticated establishment that didn’t draw a big crowd. This was his bar! But for some godawful reason, the new manager had decided—unbeknownst to Barba—to try hosting karaoke night.

Karaoke!

He scowled at the colored stage lights. Glowered at the rambunctious crowds of young people. Seethed at the bad 80’s music and off-key bellowing. He dropped heavily into his usual seat at the bar and exchanged withering looks with the bartender, who slid him his usual drink without needing to be asked. What the hell was happening to his life? Barba began to wonder whether he had anything under control at all, downing the dram in one shot.

As he gasped on the fiery liquid burning down his throat, he gained determination. They were not going to take his bar from him. Not a chance. If these tourists and college kids wanted to have their revelry, they would have to do it with a grumpy old killjoy glowering at them. He ordered another round.

***

An hour and a steep tab later, and Barba was gripping the microphone with sweaty fingers, belting out One Song Glory at the top of his lungs.

He rationalized it as “better bend than break,” but the truth was, he had dreamed of becoming an actor before going to law school to please his mother. His inner theater geek was always waiting to slip out whenever he let his guard down, but since that was never, it was side he rarely indulged. Tonight, his head was spinning, and it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“One song to redeem this empty life. Time flies—and then no need to endure anymore!”

The wooden bar stool creaked as his weight sank back down on it, and he ordered another drink to question about his life choices. “Will I ever be remembered for anything besides my failures?” he asked the glass. He’d come this far from the poor barrio where he grew up, but every step was a fight. He couldn’t just be good, he had to be better than the privileged WASPs he was competing against. He had to be the best. Every little mistake, every lost trial, could be the end of all he had worked for.

Barba was so busy nursing his latest drink, he almost didn’t notice someone else drunkenly belting a track from RENT. Except, as his head swung up to listen, it wasn’t drunken belting at all. A woman with a low-cut blouse and tight jeans that hugged her curves was singing so seductively, staring right at him. She winked and sweetly begged him to take her out tonight.

No—he was imagining it. He was just drunk, lonely, and pathetic. She was working the crowd, making everyone feel like she was singing just to them. Maybe she was a Broadway performer to have that skill, or at least a master at flirtation. Either way, she was way out of his league. There was no chance she had singled him out.

***

So what if you didn’t know anybody, and it was dangerous to go alone? You were in Manhattan on a Friday night—you were going to go out and have a good time, dammit!

The promise of karaoke drew you into a small but packed bar, and you were a few drinks in when you heard a voice like an angel and a rock-star had a baby singing a song from your favorite musical ever. The voice belonged to a singer wearing old-man suspenders, a pink tie, and a light coating of stubble from not having shaved since morning. He was fashionable, you guessed. Dapper. But it was that expressive voice that mesmerized you. As he sang, your gut was wrenched with the emotional pain woven through each note.

You were smitten. You tried to go talk to him, but the moment the song was over he vanished into the tightly-packed crowd. It was silly. It was far too bold to approach a stranger in the big city, but the warm tipsy feeling in your gut gave you confidence to hatch a plan.

Step one: Locate him from the stage.

Step two: Impress him.

Step three: Bond over mutual love for RENT.

Step four, if you managed to get that far, was a bunch of squiggly question marks and “kiss his face?” hastily scrawled in pencil. It was a long shot, you knew that. You were way too shy, and he was far too handsome not to have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or a husband. Frankly, even if he were single, he was way out of your league. But still, the nebulous step four could simply be “Have a fun night with your new karaoke buddy,” and that possibility alone made you feel like glitter was exploding inside of you.

When it was your turn to sing, you found him from your elevated vantage—he was sitting far from the stage, at the end of the bar—and tried to catch his eye. You’d been using Out Tonight as your karaoke icebreaker for years, so you’d gotten good at playing up the sexiness, tossing your hair and biting your lip. Your clumsy ass had even picked up a few dance moves to spice it up, and you gave them your booty-shaking all when you saw him look up at you.

You were glad you’d worn the jeans that made your butt look fantastic, and your sexiest, strappiest sandals (which were actually Tevas with a two-inch wedge heel, purchased from an outdoor gear store). He was watching you with fascination as you pouted the lyric, “don’t forsake me,” at him.

It sent a shiver down your spine to think he might really be looking at you that way.

The moment you got off the stage, you were bombarded by guys offering to buy you a drink, asking for your number. It was discouraging that Sexy Suspenders was not among them. Apparently your sexy routine worked, but entirely missed its intended target. Then again, a man like that probably let women come to him.

Ducking and weaving past your suitors like they were physical obstacles and not people, you reached Suspenders. The bar stool next to him was open, held by a briefcase and folded suit jacket. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and his hair was a little mussed. He appeared to be deep in conversation with his empty glass. You took a step forward to approach him, but an anxious constriction in your chest froze you in place.

Who do you think you are?! A gorgeous, sharp-dressed city guy will never even give you the time of day! Your mother’s nagging voice chimed in to warn you not to talk to strange men in bars when you’re out alone, in New York City, no less. You grimaced at your awesome double-dose of anxiety. He would either laugh in your face, or you were about to get murdered. Hooray!

But there was a loneliness in his demeanor that encouraged you he wouldn’t laugh, and up close, you noticed he was so short you could probably pick him up like a little baby chipmunk if things got out of hand. Ignoring how thick his forearms were, of course. But if he crushed you with those, you would die happy.

***

The next singer on stage had started screeching a rendition of Don’t Stop Believin’ with ten drunk buddies, and Barba was squeezing his eyes closed to try to drown them out, so he was caught completely unaware when a tap on his shoulder startled him.

“Is this seat taken?”

His vision blurred. He had to rub his eyes and look twice to be sure he was seeing who he thought he was seeing. “Mimi!” he blurted. “From the—nice, um—no. No one’s sitting here.”

He moved his belongings to the top of the bar, and you sat on the vacated stool, quite pleased with yourself. The bartender immediately handed you a pink icy cocktail with a slice of lime, and pointed his thumb to someone at the other end of the bar who paid for it. Barba followed his gesture to a very cute guy in his twenties and felt a twinge of double-edged jealousy that the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was most likely about to get up and leave him, and that the drink hadn’t been for him, because frankly, he couldn’t blame you. You did get up, but only to crane your neck to find your benefactor. When you did, you gave the world’s dorkiest thumbs up, while conspicuously putting your hand on Barba’s shoulder.

Barba’s lips spread into a smug bastard what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it smirk as he stared down his attractive rival. His head cocked to the side pleasantly. The other man’s flirtatious gaze fell into an annoyed tick. You sighed with relief as he moved away.

Turning back to Barba, you realized your hand was still on his shoulder and quickly removed it. You inhaled and said, “I heard you singing you were amazing do you want to do a duet together? Can we? I love RENT! I’ve always wanted to do Light My Candle—can we do it together?” in one breath.

Your flurried gush of words nearly knocked him off his stool—he put his hands up defensively and sat wide-eyed, nodding slowly as you went full babbling-nerd on him. You may not have been as suave as he initially thought, and oddly enough, he was okay with that. It was disarming, and your enthusiasm was infectious.

Because his instinct to distance himself from anyone he might risk forming a real emotional connection with wasn’t working at the moment, he grabbed you by the shoulders, locked his piercing eyes with yours, and emphatically answered, “Yes. We must!”

***

Having a karaoke partner is essential for Broadway musical numbers, as most of them are duets—two or more characters interacting with each other as the plot of the show advances. Light My Candle was one of your favorite songs, and snagging the mysterious suspendered singer meant you could finally perform it outside your shower.

It was a bouncy back-and-forth duet that was fun to sing, but you forgot how aggressively flirtatious it was until you had to ask him—you hadn’t even asked his name yet—if you had the best ass below 14th street, and about wax dripping between your… um, fingers. But the way he looked at you made seducing him so natural. You just had no idea if it was part of the performance, or if it was real.

When the song was over, you bounced on your toes, clinging to his arm for balance as you tripped on the stairs down from the stage, squealing, “That was so much fun!” He put his hand around your waist to steady you. It felt like it was made to be there.

His face was flushed red and his eyes sparkled with exhilaration, and he quickly agreed to another duet, though he muttered, wiping a light sheen of sweat from his brow, “Thank god no one from the precinct is here.”

Performing together with a partner always makes you feel a connection—even if it’s just drunken karaoke. When you sang one part of a harmony and he picked up the other part, your voices became two halves of a whole. And with musicals, it’s as much about acting as it is singing. He threw so much emotional intensity into the lyrics, which gave you something to respond to, throwing it back at him in fluid conversation as your voice soared above his and dove beneath it again.

You hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, and you had a feeling he hadn’t, either.

Not that you had any way of knowing, really. You guessed it by the ease in which he embodied Roger’s stubborn refusal to open his heart, by the mournful way he lifted his drinks to his lips like he was toasting at a funeral. His expensive leather briefcase and formal attire, too, suggested a well-paid but dreadfully boring line of work, like a financial manager.

Your guess was dead-on, in truth. Barba was vigilant against dating anyone he met professionally. Even if there had been a secretary or paralegal or two he’d had chemistry with, for the sake of his career, he could not afford to conduct himself in a manner that could raise even the hint of a scandal or ethical conflict in the workplace. And anyone he met outside of the workplace… well, he didn’t. His entire life revolved around his job.

The bartender had just brought a fresh round of drinks, and your head rested on your fist, elbow on the bar. Barba was staring deeply into your soul with those pretty green eyes, trying to figure out how he managed to get you and how he could keep you.

“We should do Another Day next,” you grinned.

“Who do you think you are, barging in on me and my guitar!” He sang in a gritty rock voice, poking at your chest accusingly while holding an air microphone with the other. You forgot to be surreptitious and blatantly checked for a wedding ring.

After Roger’s verse, you sang back Mimi’s part, seductively leaning in closer to him. “There’s only us. There’s only this...” As you leaned closer, his eyelids drooped, and his eyes darkened. “Forget regret, or life is yours to miss.” The smoky smooth molasses of Scotch was strong on his breath. He studied your face hazily, his eyes drawn down to the movement of your lips. There was no mistaking his attraction for a performance now. You sang softer and softer until your forehead was resting against his, your lips almost touching. Then you just breathed.

“No day but today,” he mulled the lyric and the impulsive circumstances that had led him to being with you in that moment. “I should follow that advice more often.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” you murmured. “Here I am in the city, having fun,” your voice slowed to a crawl as your eyes flicked up and down his face, “...with a perfect, handsome stranger...”

His tongue ran over his lower lip again as his eyes dropped to your mouth and clouded over with some sultry thought.

You’re not sure which one of you moved first, but in the next moment his lips were melting into yours, desperate and passionate. That tempting tongue of his ran along your lower lip now, sliding easily inside as your mouth parted to invite him within, swirling in heated wet circles around yours. It was heavy with the taste of Scotch and the faint bitterness of coffee, as if that were all he’d eaten that day. You curled your fingers into his hair and deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth, and his broad arms closed around your back and pulled you off your bar stool onto his lap.

His skin was burning hot, and waves of heat coursed up through your body like you were both on fire. Your pulse thundered in your ears until it drowned out the off-key music, and each pounding heartbeat sent a corresponding throb to your cunt. Your eyes closed. All that existed was the messy clashing of your teeth and tongues, the woody-sweet scent of his cologne filling your lungs, the heat of his strong hands on your back, and the bulge of his cock twitching beneath you.

When you finally had to come up for air, and hopped back onto your own bar stool, suddenly self-conscious of how pornographic that nearly was, all he had to say was, “I’ve never done that before.”

You blinked. “You’ve never… kissed someone?”

“Not someone I just met in a bar!” his eyebrows shot up and he sounded so utterly scandalized, your euphoric high from kissing him came crashing down. He saw you as some kind of cheap tramp for kissing him. Pretentious asshole. Suddenly you felt like shit.

You turned your attention to the second round of that fruity cocktail that random guy paid for. It turned out to be a pretty tasty drink, so you ordered another. Maybe you should have given that guy a chance.

“So, are you here by yourself?” Barba asked your profile, not bothering to hide the patronizing concern in his tone.

“Yeah,” you said without looking up.

“Jesus. I thought so. That’s really dangerous, you know.”

“Ugh,” you groaned and pivoted away from him further, leaving him confused. So first he implied you’re a slut, and now he was pulling the whole, the city is full of predators, but I’m a Nice Guy—let me walk you home routine. This is what you get for picking a guy based on how good he sings.

“I did not mean to imply that. I only meant that I’m usually more... careful.” Oh. You must have said all of that out loud. Oops. “But you’re right to be suspicious of my intentions. There are… all kinds”— he breathed the word out in a jaded huff—“of tactics predators will use. Manipulations, brute force, drugs, fake personas… And all they have to do is claim consent and half the time the jury believes it even if the physical evidence is horrifying.” He was getting visibly angry thinking about it, his drink dangerously close to spilling as he clenched his fist around it.

You stared at him. “Um.”

“Oh,” he cleared his throat, “I’m an A.D.A. for Manhattan. Prosecutor. I’m a lawyer,” he clarified when the acronym earned no look of recognition in your eyes. “Lately I’ve been working with the Special Victims Unit, so when I see someone drinking alone late at night, talking to complete strangers,” he gestured at himself. “You have no idea how many sexual assault cases start with this exact scenario.”

“Big-shot lawyer, huh? Sure, now pull the other one.”

“What?” His head cocked at you in utter bewilderment.

“Pull the other… leg. You’re pulling my leg?”

“I know what it means, I’ve just never heard it said by anyone under sixty. Are you secretly an old man?”

Your cheeks burned. “You’re an old man,” you retorted childishly.

His lips folded in on themselves as he tried to keep a straight face. “I don’t know. What can you tell me about the Model T?”

You took a grumpy swig of the fruity strawberry cocktail.

“What was World War II like?”

“So are you really a lawyer, or do you just use that line to pick up chicks?”

“I am, I am!” he laughed. “I can prove it. Let’s see...” he pulled out his phone, brought up a search result for his name, and scrolled through headlines. “DA’s Office Helps NYPD Persecute Immigrant Families,” “Justice at Last for Serial Rapist Victims,” and others rolled across the screen. He narrowed his eyes as his index finger hovered over each one. “Oh, sounds like I’m an idiot in this one,” his mouth twitched into a sardonic smirk, “and I’m a real asshole here… Oh, look, here’s one where I’m the big hero.” He held out his phone so you could see the photo of him in another flashy suit and bold tie, speaking to crowd of reporters in front of the courtroom steps. He looked so sexy in his full three piece suit, and much more severe, his face hard and intelligent. The caption below it praised his victory putting away a notorious rapist, and identified him A.D.A. Rafael Barba.

“Wow. That is you. Who knew I was doing karaoke with such an important guy?” You slung your arm around his shoulders, which were irresponsibly broad and solid. God, being with him felt so right. Casual touches were so comfortable even though you’d just met, and the way he responded, melting under you, sent a wave of heat through your lower back.

He kept flipping through headlines, his brow quirking a little at one, eyes narrowing at the next. Then he saw one that made him stop scrolling. He put the phone down on the bar and scrubbed his hand over his face and hair, blinking back tears suddenly forming. You caught the glowing screen before it automatically locked. The headline was from today. “Local Teacher Found Not Guilty—.”

His head dropped into his arms on the bar. “It was my fault. If I had done something different, been more prepared...” A sad groan emitted from the Barba puddle.

“I’m sure you did everything you could,” you soothed, and rubbed his back sympathetically. “So one guy got acquitted. It happens every day.”

“I know,” he growled. This fact was the opposite of comforting.

“You’re sure he was guilty?”

“He did it. To at least a dozen kids over the last two decades, but no one wanted to testify, or the statute of limitations was up, and then our key witness… There must have been something I could have done, something I didn’t think of. I let him get away with it.” His shoulders heaved as he sobbed into his arms. “I fucked up.”

You kept rubbing circles over his back, whispering soothing words to him. You leaned down and peppered his head with soft kisses. He shifted off the top of the bar and began crying into your chest, his arms wrapping around you like a baby lemur. You held him tight, suddenly understanding that this was the memory he came here to drown. This was why all night you had caught him looking wistful every time the conversation lulled. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “It’s alright. Shh.”

His arms tightened around your waist, then relaxed, tension melting from his body. “This is nice,” he sighed into your shirt, enjoying being snugly pressed against you, surrounded by warmth. “Thank you… this is nice.” He never let anyone comfort him like this. Never let his need for comfort show under his stoic exterior. If his judgment were functioning properly, it would have struck him as a red flag how easily he sought comfort from a stranger that he wouldn’t have accepted from his closest friends, but it felt good to let it out.

Eventually, he remembered his dignity and sat up, drying his eyes on his sleeve and glancing regretfully at the wet splotch he’d made in your shirt.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. He picked up his latest glass of scotch, and swirled its half-empty amber contents before setting it down again. It was possible he had drunk enough.

“It’s OK. You had a bad day.”

His lips tightened at the corners in agreement. “Usually Liv is the only one who tries to cheer me up. So, thanks for…” He closed his eyes and tilted his head. “You’re very nice.”

Your chest fluttered. He was terribly cute, and far too vulnerable for you to be having these lascivious feelings about him.

#Rafael Barba #Rafael Barba x Reader #ada rafael barba #Raúl Esparza #svu fic #female reader #my writing #Headcanoning Barba as good at singing naturally #and is a fan of RENT change my mind #emotional hurt/comfort #sorry about the dubcon everyone but sober Rafa would never sing in public XD

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