Hi, I have a request! From the prompt list, “I lost our baby.” Rafael Barba x Reader
A Family
A/N: Oof, that’s a sad request! I couldn’t do the full sad; it’s...too real to me, but I hope you still enjoy. Obviously, this is gonna be angst, but with a happy ending. This jumps around a bit in the beginning before settling in--just some background on how you and Rafael met and stuff. Thanks for the request, @infiniteoddball !
Tags: allusions to smut (gotta make a baby somehow), mentions of child abuse, mentions of rape/murder, some derogatory language, pregnancy scares
Rafael Barba couldn’t believe that he could ever be so happy in his life. When he dated in high school, he often fantasized about the normal, picturesque life laid out before him—good job, own a house, married, have a couple kids. Then in college, he started doubting himself more and more about the children part, and after Yelina, he started doubting the married part as well. One drunken night with Olivia, she had asked him, “ever thought about having children?” It wasn’t a secret that she wanted to be a mother; that’s how this conversation started. He had shaken his head, brushed it off, but she had pushed him. “Really? Just not your thing?”
He could’ve lied and said yes, let it die right then. But he couldn’t lie to Liv; she’d see right through him anyways. Besides, he still felt pangs of jealousy when he’d go for a stroll in the park, watch dads playing catch with their kids, or teaching them to ride a bike.
“Cause I don’t want to be my father,” he had said before finishing his drink and leaving Forlini’s, jaw still clenched. Olivia, thankfully, had dropped it after that.
It was months later that Rafael had met you. You were a journalist; you had met while Rafael was working a highly controversial case. And while he normally hated the press, refusing to talk to them, he had agreed to an interview with you…mostly because you had assured him you were on his side. He was incredibly thankful he had accepted, because you had both started dating a week later, and you never looked back.
A few months after that interview, Rafael asked you to move in with him, and a year after that, he had proposed. Everything was perfect, except for one thing; you wanted children. Rafael was still hesitant, afraid to continue the cycle of abuse that’s been passed down through generations on his paternal side. But after a very, very long talk, you had him convinced that he was nothing like his father, and that you would make sure he wouldn’t become like him. Besides, after becoming so close with Rafael, you had also grown close to Olivia, and you assured him that the Sergeant would kick his ass if he ever did anything to hurt you or your kids. So, after your wedding, you both spent the honeymoon trying to get pregnant. It was almost shocking how you didn’t end up pregnant with how little you left the bedroom. But now, after an amazing birthday celebration, you held the positive test in your hands, smiling at your husband.
“I’m going to be a father?” Rafael muttered, his voice hopeful, happy. You could see the slightest bit of concern in his green eyes, and you leaned up, kissing him gently.
“You’re going to be an amazing father,” you whispered against his lips. He grinned against you, pulling you into a tight embrace, one hand going to rest on your stomach.
Rafael felt bad with how much he worked; he wanted to be home, doting on you, especially as the months went by and you started showing more and more. You were embarrassed at first as your belly swelled up, but Rafael’s eyes just sparkled as he thought about the life growing within you; the life you created together. He would take half-days, sometimes full days off, and he was never too tired after a day at work, always caring and attentive to you when he came home. But he still didn’t feel like it was enough.
********************
It was midday, and court had just concluded, with Justin Fitzgerald being sentenced to life in prison for the vicious rapes and murders of five women. He was still screaming profanities at Rafael, promising to kill the counselor, as he scooped all his paperwork into his briefcase. He ignored the man that was dragged away, headed to processing, and then on to Rikers.
“Good work, Barba,” Olivia said, patting his shoulder.
He gave her a curt nod, a small smile on his lips. “Jury made the right call. But I’ll confess that I’ll sleep better knowing someone like Fitzgerald is behind bars. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to try and get out of here early tonight; my wife is due to give birth any moment, and I want to be with her as much as possible.”
Olivia gave him a bright smile; she was the happiest for you and Rafael, besides the two of you yourselves. She had already helped you pick out a bunch of clothes—you were projected to have a little girl—and necessities. Rafael matched her smile, his heart fluttering at the thought of holding his baby for the first time, before he moved to leave the courtroom, heading towards his office in One Hogan Place.
*****************
He was just packing up when his phone rang, Olivia’s number flashing at him. Brow furrowed, Rafael answered, “Liv? Everything—”
“Fitzgerald escaped during the transfer to Rikers. I’m sending Fin and Amaro to your office; lock your door and wait there until they show up,” Olivia said in a rush.
Rafael’s heart plummeted. He hurried to his door, telling Carmen to leave, then closing and locking his door. “Liv, [Y/N]…I need—”
“I’ll send Rollins and Carisi. They’ll escort her to the precinct; we’ll get her, Raf.”
He nodded into his phone, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He hung up, finding your number, and calling you.
*****************
“Okay, Rafi, don’t worry, baby. I’m sure Rollins and Carisi will be here soon. I’ll call you when I make it to the precinct, okay? Just take some deep breaths, love,” you were saying into the phone. Your own heart was beating faster, but you had to remain calm, for Rafael’s sake as much for your baby. There was a sharp knock at the door. “That must be them; I’ll call in a bit.” You hung up before you heard Rafael scream into the phone, wondering how the detectives had gotten there so fast.
You heaved yourself off the couch, waddling to the door, your hand on your lower back. There was no peephole in the door, but you left the chain on—something Olivia taught you—as you opened the door to make sure it was Rollins and Carisi. But the face staring back at you was foreign, deranged, a wicked grin on his face, a glint in his eye. You barely had time to move out of the way before he kicked the door open, the chain snapping easily.
“Where’s that shit-stain, Barba?” he growled at you.
“I-who? You must have the wrong building,” you replied, backing away from the man. It was then that you noticed he had a gun in his hand. Deep breaths you told yourself, trying to stay calm. But your body started trembling, and you felt tears in your eyes.
The man towered over you. “Nah; see that’s the problem with being a public figure nowadays. No privacy anymore.” The man looked you up and down, sneering. “You the whore he knocked up, then?”
You shook your head. “I-I don’t know who you’re talking about…please, just leave,” you begged, your watery voice barely audible.
The man just smiled that wicked smile as he moved closer to you. You tried to back away, but he was much quicker, wrapping an arm around your throat from behind. “Come on, baby. We’re going for a ride,” he muttered in your ear, making you shudder. You could do nothing but try and keep up with his pace as he led you out the front door, down the hallway and to the elevator, his gun to your head the whole way. Your legs were shaking by the time you made it to the front door of the building, the man forcing you down the steps.
“Freeze, Fitzgerald!” a female voice called. He turned towards the voice, and you were face to face with Detective Rollins, her gun aimed at his face. She glanced at you, making sure you were unharmed before her attention went back to the man; Fitzgerald, apparently.
“You try anything, and Barba’s whore is dead,” he sneered at her.
That’s when you felt it; a small pop inside you, and then a rush of liquid on your thighs. “I…I think my water just broke,” you muttered, your eyes filling with tears. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen, and you were starting to panic. Rollins looked more distressed, and Fitzgerald knew he was going to win this standoff.
Everyone you had talked to had warned you that after your water broke, the contractions would start off small, like mild period cramps, before ramping up. Which is why you knew something had to be wrong. You screamed in pain as a contraction hit, your knees buckling. You slumped in Fitzgerald’s grip as your body went limp with pain, and he had to struggle to hold you. Which is when Carisi, who had been slowly sneaking up behind you both, grabbed Fitzgerald’s gun, wrestling it from his hands. He dropped you as he fought the male detective, and Rollins was on you, taking your hand in hers as the pain subsided.
“I got him,” Carisi panted, cuffing Fitzgerald.
Rollins glanced at him, nodding. “Okay. Call a bus, we need to get—”
She was cut off by another scream from you, pain rocketing through your body. Tears were streaming down your face, and you were sure you were going to break her hand with how hard you were clutching her, Rafael’s name escaping your lips.
When you stopped screaming, Rollins said, “fuck the bus, I’m taking her to the hospital. Call for a lift to Rikers.” And with the strength of Superwoman—or a cop with high adrenaline—Rollins dragged you to your feet, whispering encouragement into your ears the whole walk to her squad car.
“Something’s wrong…I lost our baby…I’m sorry Raf…” you whimpered, openly weeping.
Rollins rubbed your back soothingly. “It’s gonna be fine; once you’re in the hospital, you’re gonna get help, and you’ll see. It’s gonna be okay,” she just kept repeating this over and over again. You had barely sat down in the passenger seat when you screamed again.
***********************
“Go faster!” Rafael ordered through gritted teeth from the backseat of Fin’s squad car.
“We already have the streets cleared and sirens on; this is the fastest we can go,” Amaro explained from the passenger seat.
When Carisi had called Rafael, telling him his wife was in labor, not even the two detectives ordered to protect him could keep him in his office. Carisi tried to explain what had happened, but Rafael had stopped listening after hearing the words “Fitzgerald broke in” and “in labor”. His heart was in his throat, and his grip on the back of the passenger seat would tear a lesser fabric.
“Bullshit; go faster,” Rafael barked back. They were a block away, the hospital looming in the distance, and it took everything in Rafael to sit still as they approached. Fin had barely stopped the car in front of the sliding doors before Rafael rocketed out of backseat, sprinting to the front desk. He asked for your room, but in his rush, he was speaking too quickly, and the nurses telling him to calm down was only making him more nervous.
“Barba, over here!” Carisi called, waving to the counsellor. Rafael took off after the detective, narrowly avoiding nurses and doctors. The taller man led him to the elevator, hitting floor 4, and then the longest elevator ride in Rafael’s life took place. “Fitzgerald is safely in Rikers now,” Carisi said, as if that mattered at all. Rafael gave him a pointed glare, and Carisi took the hint.
The doors dinged, and Rafael launched out before he realized he didn’t know which way to go. Looking back at Carisi, the detective waved him along, leading him to a quiet room, Rollins sitting in a chair outside. Now that he was here, Rafael came to a top outside the door, terrified, hesitating to go inside, afraid of what he’d find. But Rollins stood, giving him a soft smile, a nod. Taking a deep breath, Rafael entered.
You were laying in the hospital bed, propped up with pillows, a small bundle in your arms. You glanced up at Rafael as he came over to you, tears in your eyes and the brightest smile on your face.
“Rafi, there’s someone you should meet,” you murmured, slowly holding the bundle out to him.
Rafael’s heart skipped a beat as he saw his daughter’s face, the small patch of black hair on her head. He carefully scooped her into his arms, bouncing his knees as if it were natural. “Thank God, she looks just like you,” he said softly, voice full of awe.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I think she looks more like you. When her eyes were open for a moment, they had your green.”
Rafael smiled at you, before his eyes went back to the bundle of joy in his arms; his daughter. “She’s perfect.”
“Yes, she is,” you agreed. “I was so scared today…I thought I might have lost—”
“Don’t,” Rafael said, cutting you off. “All that matters is that she’s happy and healthy, and that you’re safe.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead softly. “We’re a family; that’s all I care about.” Rafael Barba couldn’t believe that he could ever be so happy in his life.
Sorry!! I didn’t know that you didn’t write smut! Then...hot cocoa Rita/Sonny fluff?
Sonny couldn’t remember the last time he’d been allowed to sleep in. Even on his days off, there was always a need to get up early and set out to do all the things he hadn’t had time to do while at work. But finally, his brain seemed to have taken the hint that they were properly on holiday now. Two complete weeks of uninterrupted peace, just him and the woman he loves in a cabin in the woods, removed from everyone and everything else.
Bliss.
The bed dipped beside him and he groaned as he stretched, smile working its way onto his face as he blinked the sleep from his eyes and turned to face Rita.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” she said softly, smoothing his unruly hair back from his forehead.
Sonny grunted in response, allowing his eyes to flutter closed again as he leaned into the touch. “Holidays,” he mumbled.
Rita laughed in response. “I made you hot cocoa. You don’t even have to leave the bed.”
Sonny grinned and pushed himself up so he was sitting beside her, resting against the cushioned headboard, and she handed him one of the mugs sitting on the nightstand, just short of too-hot to the touch. There were two marshmallows sitting in the top, steadily melting into the liquid, and he sighed contentedly before taking a sip.
“Don’t tell my ma, but you make the best cocoa.”
“I know,” she said with a laugh, settling against his side with her own mug.
He wrapped his arm around her, heart fluttering as she rested her head against his shoulder. After all this time, she still made him feel like it was the first time every time she was soft with him, and he never grew tired of it.
“I love you, you know.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before resting his cheek there, breathing her in.
“I know,” she shot back, and he could picture the teasing glint in her eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “I love you, too.”
Hi! I saw your top 5 for Rizzoli & Isles (I just finished my rewatch) and I am SCREAMING cause I need that emotional compensation as well. I love that show but goddamn I am gay af.
You are gay AND SO WERE THEY!!!!! ! !!! !1
I want to rewatch it as well, but I don’t know if I can do it without losing my goddamn mind lol
Hey girl hey! What is your favorite ship from the West Wing and why?
Cliche as it may be, I love love love Josh and Donna. I am a sucker for slow-burn, friends-to-lovers, mutually pining idiots.
However, Jed and Abbey are a close second because I think it’s so sweet to see people who have been married for a long time but they still love each other so much (even when they’re super angry at each other).
How often do they have sex, if at all? A couple times a week sometimes, sometimes once, sometimes none. It just depends on what is going on in their personal and professional lives. It all goes together.
Who brings ideas? Who initiates? Both. Neither is shy about expressing what they may or may not want to try.
Any kinks they clash on? No. Respect is key.
Oddest place they’d have sex? The stairwell of Olivia's apartment building.
Favourite positions? Doggy-style
Dom/top? Sub/bottom? Any switches? No, no, no.
Genital headcanons? I don't really have any.
Favourite erogenous zones? Olivia - behind left ear Rafael - nipples
Quickest turn ons? Immediate turn offs? Rafael - Tie-pulling (on) Olivia - Dirty talk being spoken in her ear in public (on) & aggression (off)
First to orgasm? Rafael most of the time. Last to orgasm? Olivia rarely. Who comes the most? Olivia usually. Does someone ever end up unfinished? Yes, that happens when you have a kid sometimes.
Favourite romantic gestures during sex/orgasm? Olivia loves it when Rafael moves her hair away from her face.
How are their afterglows? Depends on how hot and heavy the sex got.
Who’s loud? Both sometimes. Who’s quiet? Olivia usually. Does one try to make the other louder/quieter? How? Yes, Olivia sometimes tries to make Rafael express himself when they really need to be quiet. She'll do whatever necessary to accomplish her goals.
Lights on or off? On or off. It doesn't matter. Do they look at each other? Most definitely. Or is someone embarrassed? No embarrassment after the first time.
Open or closed relationship? Closed. Do they sometimes share? Not at all.
Hiiiii love! Can I request a Barba x Reader the first time they meet? And he knows that he wants you???
First Dance
A/N: I...I just keep using Hamilton as my go-to play, and I’m not sure why. I’m ignorant of Broadway, and I apologize. This was also just an excuse to write a gala scene, so I hope you don’t mind! Thanks for the request @infiniteoddball
For once, everything in Rafael’s life was looking up; he had just secured three tough convictions, with another two looking to be going in his favor. His mother was just granted extra funding for her charter school, and she was able to hire on extra help. The Yankees were going to the World Series and Hamilton was coming back to Broadway, and Rafael had gotten tickets to both. The only slight dim spot was that he had one ticket to those. That he didn’t have anyone to celebrate with, outside of maybe catching a nightcap with Olivia. But now that she had Noah, that was happening less and less. And Rafael realized that with his view from the top of the mountain, he could see how alone he was. With every win, though, that loss sunk further and further into the back of his mind, hidden behind tight-lipped smirks and smartass quips.
He was sitting in his office, going over his final revisions for a closing argument when there was a light knock on his door. “Enter,” he called out, not bothering to glance up.
“Uh, are you Mr. Barba?” a voice asked. He looked up then, not recognizing the voice. His eyes widened slightly as he took you in, but he recovered quickly; you were beautiful.
“I am. And you are?”
“Detective [Y/L/N]…and I’m here to pick up a warrant,” you smiled shyly at him. You had heard all the rumors about ADA Rafael Barba; the good and the bad. He was passionate, quick-witted, wanting justice for the victims. He was also sarcastic, pushy, and downright rude.
Rafael shuffled through some files on his desk. “The Langford’s apartment, yes?” he asked, and you confirmed. He found the correct warrant, pulling it out and glancing over it before handing it to you. Your fingers brushed his, and a jolt ran through him. Smiling brightly once more, you turned to leave with a small thanks.
Maybe it was because of the many wins recently that made him stop you. “Detective?” he called, causing you to stop and turn back to him, hand on the doorknob. Or maybe it was that one loss he still had. “Would you like to get a nightcap with me? I like to meet with the people I’ll be working with.”
Your eyes widened for half a moment before that shy smile was back. “I would love to, but I can’t tonight. Raincheck?”
“Of course,” Rafael replied, a tight-lipped smile and a nod, a clear dismissal. He watched you leave, and he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time; a wanting. A yearning, deep within his heart.
*******************
The next time Rafael saw you was in the precinct, partnered with Carisi and interrogating a hardened pimp. At first, Rafael was concerned that Olivia was letting the two greenest Detectives go at this guy, simply because he wanted an air-tight case against the bastard. But as he watched you and Carisi work, he was in awe at how you conducted yourself, and he found that the wanting, the yearning, hasn’t lessened at all. His mind wandered as he watched you lean over the table, your pants pulled tight over your ass, and he wondered what you looked like under your clothes, what you sounded like when he….
The door opened, and he pulled himself out of the gutter. “Oh, hello Mr. Barba,” you smiled when you came out of the interrogation room, taking his breath away.
“Detective,” he nodded back, a small smile tugging across his own face, as if he wasn’t just picturing you on your back in his bed. “You did well in there.”
“Did hell just freeze over? Because I think you just got a compliment from Barba,” Carisi joked, elbowing you and smirking. Rafael gave him an impressive glare, and you laughed. The sound was so magical, his glare fell flat, and he moved to the Bullpen with you to hear Rollins’ rundown of what they had so far.
Once he got all the information he needed, Rafael stood, pulling his jacket back on and heading towards the exit. “Let me walk you out, counselor,” you said.
“Please,” he replied, surprised, but not unhappy. You followed him to the elevator, hitting the button and getting into the confined space with him. This close, you got to examine the brightness of his eyes, the flecks of grey in his hair, the intoxicating aroma of his cologne. It made your knees weak.
“I’m free tonight, if you want to turn in that raincheck,” you murmured, unsure of yourself. You were a little afraid that when he asked the first time, it was a spur of the moment question, and that he’d decline now.
Yes, Rafael thought instantly, and he almost said it. Almost. “As much as I want to, I’m…busy tonight.” He cursed himself for accepting a dinner with McCoy, to go over his next re-election.
“Ah, no worries,” you replied, your heart sinking.
Rafael hated the look of sadness in your eyes, the rejection obvious on your face. “There’s a charity gala in two weeks. I have to make an appearance to please my bosses, and I’m sure most of, if not all of your department will be there, too. We could try to talk then?”
The doors dinged, sliding open, but Rafael made no move to leave. “Uh, yeah! As long as I’m not stuck working OT…I’m still the new kid on the block, so I get the worst shifts,” you chuckled, rubbing your arm nervously.
Rafael gave you a grin. “I’ll see you then, Detective.” And with that, he left the elevator.
You watched him leave, the doors closing in your face. “See you then, Mr. Barba.”
*********************
You were in a floor length, silver, A-line style dress that had golden details. Looking in the mirror, you felt like you were Cinderella. You felt elegant, distinguished, not something that you normally got to feel. You had worked your way up through the Brooklyn patrol office, making your way to SVU detective—it was rare indeed that you got to dress-up in anything that wasn’t a skimpy outfit for an undercover op.
This was your first charity gala; you had gone to little charity events for the NYPD, of course. But until you had your detective’s badge, there was no pressure to go to events. So, your eyes lit up when you saw the decorations inside the building, your mouth dropping open. Now you really felt like Cinderella as you walked in.
“Hey, partner,” Carisi said, making his way to you. Your grin matched his as he linked and arm through yours, pulling you towards the bar. “Can I buy ya a drink?”
“Sure, Sonny, that sounds great,” you replied, giggling as he dragged you over. You were so glad that you were partnered with Carisi; he had made you feel instantly at home at SVU, and he was instantly your best friend.
You had just finished your first drink when Rafael appeared at the bar next to you, wearing a simple black tux, and making the heat rise in your cheeks.
“Hello Detective.” Rafael got the bartender’s attention, ordering himself a scotch.
“Mr. Barba,” you greeted.
“Please, call me Rafael.”
“Only if you stop calling me ‘detective’,” you smirked back. His eyes sparkled mischievously, and he took a sip of his drink.
“Deal,” he replied. “Now, tell me how you got here. Why SVU?”
*********************
You spent most of the night chatting with Rafael, answering questions and sipping at your drinks. You vaguely noticed that he deflected most questions about himself, focusing more on you. Olivia had warned you that he was a pretty private man, so this wasn’t too shocking to you.
Eventually, Rafael glanced to the dance floor, then back to you. “Care for a dance?”
You felt your cheeks warm. “Uh, sure,” you smiled shyly, taking his offered hand, and letting him lead you to the huge ballroom floor. He kept his hands high on your waist, your hands on his shoulders, as he twirled you around the dance floor.
“So, you said you were going to Hamilton?” you asked idly, swaying with him, his warmth comforting, drawing you in.
Rafael grinned at you. “I am. Have you seen it?”
“I have not. But I was able to snag a ticket before they sold out, so I will be seeing it.”
He spun you around, and he dipped you, making your heart leap into your throat. His green eyes were bright as he pulled you back up. “Would you like to go together?”
“Rafael Barba, are you asking me out on a date?” The song ended, but you both stood there, not leaving the dance floor.
“So, what if I am?” he asked, voice low.
You stood there, dumbfounded, your face on fire. He was attractive, you had to admit. But could you date an ADA, especially one you worked with? What would 1PP think? What would Liv think, Dodds? You were still new; would they fire you for this? Transfer you?
“A-are you sure that’s appropriate?” you asked, voice just as low. The music had started back up, couples moving around you. Rafael replaced his hands on your waist, leading you into another dance, and you jumped to keep up.
“It’s one date—no one needs to know about it. Not yet.”
“And if it becomes more than one date?” you asked, searching his eyes.
Rafael’s eyes flashed, a triumphant smirk on his face, as if he won simply by you thinking about having more than one date with him. “Then we will figure it out. But I’d rather not count the jury before the trial.”
You scoffed at his reference, rolling your eyes. “Okay, theatre date it is,” you smiled at him.
His grin broadened, and he pulled you to him. To the outside world, he was whispering something, probably work related, to you. In reality, Rafael pressed a small kiss under your ear, making you freeze in place, heat creeping up your face.
“I’ll see you then,” he whispered into your ear before he pulled away, leaving you standing on the dance floor. Oh, Rafael loved to win, and he was already planning on how to win your heart.
