It's been three years since you last saw Rafael Barba. He returns for the Stabler case, seeing you again for the first time since he left abruptly, leaving the life you were building together behind. Little did he know...it's not just you now he left behind.
You unlock the door to your apartment, allowing Rafael and yourself in to see your babysitter waiting there on the couch.
"Hi, Lizzie. How is she?"
"In her crib. She's a little sleepy today," The younger girl smiles at the both of you, as the realization begins to dawn on Rafa.
"You're good to go for the day. I'll see you tomorrow?" You ask and she nods with a smile while grabbing her bag.
"What-what is going on?" Rafael asks, tears already in his eyes.
Lizzie exits the apartment and Rafael immediately sits down.
"Rafa,"
"Were you- were you pregnant?" He asks with tears in his eyes,
"Yes...I found out two days after you left,"
Before you can see his reaction, you go into the baby's room and grab her from her crib, letting her lay in your arms as you walk back out to see Rafa.
His jaw drops and eyes are wide as he sees her get carried into the room. Her big blue eyes open to look around and then look at Rafael. She has long brown hair and warm-colored skin. She looks just like him.
"This is Lily. She is your daughter," You say, keeping your courage as much as you can as you stare this man down.
Tears escape his eyes as he stands up,
"She-she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," He says, lips curving into a smile, and that might just be enough to make your heart melt.
He surprises you by wrapping his arms around both you and your baby girl. The baby, of course, you expected him to want to embrace immediately. But not the hug around you too.
Your head falls against his shoulder as he hugs the both of you with shaking hands.
"Mama?" She mumbles, half asleep,
"Mi amor," You mumble, kissing her forehead tenderly. Rafa looks up, clearly surprised,
"She's your daughter too, Rafa. Of course she's going to know Spanish," You whisper and he smiles through blinking back some tears.
You put her back in her crib, though it is clear that Rafael doesn't want to be far away from either of you right now.
As you close the door to her room, you walk back out to where he is still frozen in place,
"I missed so much," He mumbles, putting his face in his hands. In that moment, all the anger and the built-up hatred fizzles away.
You sit beside him and glance up at him,
"What's two years gone when you have so many more ahead?"
He furrows his eyebrows as you smile,
"Regardless of what you've done, we're family. The three of us," You say and he nods,
"But only if you don't leave again,"
He shakes his head quickly, "Never again. She will know me...I promise,"
His brows furrow as he tries to keep his composure,
"What's wrong?"
"You did all of this alone"
"Have you met the people I work with? There has not been one moment that I've been alone," You whisper as he glances between your eyes and your lips.
"There was not one moment in these past years that you weren't on my mind, mi vida,"
He begins to lean in and the years and lost time begin to slip away as all you can think about is his lips about to kiss yours
Rafael Barba x Reader. CW: language, implied sex. WC: 1110
***
“Cariño, I am home,” Rafael announced as he entered the apartment you both shared. He set his attaché down by the console adjacent to the door and dropped his keys in the turquoise punch bowl you had repurposed when you moved in. When he received no response, he called out your name once more.
The lights to the apartment were on, your purse was strewn haphazardly on the couch. The apartment smelled faintly of roasted chicken. Sure enough, there were a few pots in the sink that were soaking. On the kitchen counter was plastic Tupperware that was still warm to touch along with a note that simply read, ‘dinner.’
Rafael loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves. Dinner would have to wait. The door to the bedroom was opened a crack and the light was shining through. He could hear you muttering to yourself. When he opened the door fully, he found you pacing, reading outloud to yourself. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun and you wore a lace camisole and loose knit pajama bottoms which were rolled up by the waist. Your glasses were perched on your head.
“Y/N,” Rafael greeted you once more. “I’m home.” You looked up from the paper you were studying intently and gave him a weary smile.
“Rafi – I wasn’t expecting you home for another few hours. You’re early,” you greeted. You put your paper down on the bed and walked up to him, giving him a small kiss. “How was your day?”
“La misma mierda, como siempre,” Rafael replied. A single digit traced the spaghetti strap of your camisole. “And your day?”
You tensed. “I have to give a speech tomorrow; I am so nervous. You know how I feel about public speaking.”
“I know,” Rafael sympathized. “But you’ll do great. I know it.”
“Easy for you to say,” you replied, slightly annoyed. You rolled your eyes for emphasis. “You are mister prosecutor, it’s part of your day to day.”
“It took practice,” Rafael replied. “Even Carisi had to practice my summations in the mirror.”
You threw yourself dramatically on the bed. “I hate this.”
“Practice on me,” Rafael replied, removing his shirt and pants. He folded his clothes and placed them on the armchair in the corner along with the rest of the clothes that needed to be sent to the cleaners.
“I’d be too embarrassed,” you replied now sitting fully up.
“Nonsense,” Rafael replied matter-of-factly, slipping on a pair of his ratty but beloved Harvard sweatpants. “Come to the kitchen. I’m starving. You practice, I’ll eat and listen.”
Groaning, you nodded and followed Rafael in the kitchen. “I am going to need a drink,” you replied.
“Same.”
Rafael opened the Tupperware and inhaled the wafting smell. He plucked a diced carrot from the dinner you had prepared and threw the container into the microwave to reheat it. You walked over to the bar cart and removed two glasses. You poured an equal amount of scotch into each glass and then handed Rafael one.
Rafael cocked a brow at you and cocked his head slightly, waiting for you to begin. You nodded and swallowed your drink in one shot before beginning. Rafael wondered if he was going deaf in his older age – he could barely hear you.
“Louder,” he encouraged. “Can’t hear you.”
You gave him a pointed look. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you if I cannot hear you.”
You continued, this time a bit louder, but still on the quiet end. “Is that better?” you asked.
Rafael crinkled his nose and shrugged. “Not really.”
You threw your hands up exasperatedly. “This is pointless.”
The microwave beeped loudly, signaling its completion. Rafael hopped off the barstool he was sitting on and turned off the microwave. He approached you. “You are so tense,” he noted.
“No me digas,” you replied sardonically.
“Relax,” Rafael replied, turning you around, so you were to his back. His rubbed your shoulders before running his hands down your arms. “You want to project yourself,” he continued. His hands moved from your arms to your belly. “I will help you. You can use breathing in order to speak with confidence and power – just like your favorite ADA.”
“You mean Carisi?” you teased.
“Y/N.” Rafael rumbled your name quietly, ignoring your comment. “Stand so your feet are shoulder width apart, shoulders back.” You adjusted your stance. Rafael raised your arms up and over your head. “Take a deep breath and exhale slowly, keeping your ribcage where it is.”
You did as he instructed. He slowly lowered your arms to your sides and placed one hand on your belly, the other on your chest. “Breathe in again and notice which hand moves. Keep your chest steady and think about breathing into your stomach as you take in a breath. Then exhale slowly, like letting air out of a balloon. Lets do this a few times,” Rafael instructed.
By the seventh or eighth time, you were acutely aware that Rafael’s hands were on your waist but slowly moving down to your hips. Rafael’s breath was warm on your ear. Whatever this exercise was, was turning you on. You felt almost lightheaded.
Rafael held your speech in front of you. “Now, speak on that breath,” he instructed.
You began once more. You were struck on how immediate your voice had changed. Your voice sounded richer, fuller. Automatically you began to speak even louder as your voice resonated with supported sound. “Muy bien,” Rafael murmured against your ear. His five o’clock shadow tickled your skin.
Finally, you finished your speech. Rafael rubbed concentric circles on your hip. The air in the room felt thick. Slowly you turned around to face Rafael and you met his eyes. “How was I… Professor Barba?” you teased.
Rafael swallowed hard. “Un estudiante perfecta.”
You wrapped a hand around the nape of Rafael’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. Your lips mashed against his. His tongue slid into your mouth, licking and nibbling. His hands caressed your body, running up your sides to the swell of your breasts. His hands slipped under your camisole and cupped your breasts, tweaking your nipples. His intent was clear and you were more than in agreement. Your hand reached down to the front of his legs and cupped his hardened cock. You pulled away breathlessly and bit your lip.
You squealed as Rafael picked you up, so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He gripped your thighs tightly as he carried you back to the bedroom. What Rafael said next, sent shivers up your spine in excitement.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Rafael says, marching alongside you after a long long day trying to catch a predator and possibly putting yourself in harms way to get the creep to incriminate himself.
"I was thinking that I'm a detective and can easily and willingly use myself as bait when the situation arises," You say defensively,
"Olivia said it was fine," You reassure and he sighs to himself,
"When you do things like this it makes it harder for me to do my job!" He exclaims as you both approach his apartment front door,
"So why did you invite me over to your place then?" You ask, dusting the snow off of your coat, as he unlocks the door to his large home.
"Because now after you did this I need to prepare you for what they could ask you on the stand tomorrow!" He exclaims
"I've been on the stand before, Barba,"
He mumbles something in Spanish to himself before allowing both of you inside the apartment.
He immediately goes to the bar cart to pour a drink and you slide your coat off your shoulders, happy to be out of the New York City snowstorm.
"Besides, with this storm I guarantee the trial date is going to have to be pushed back. No way these roads will be clear by morning,"
"Great. So another day the man who tried to rape you will spend another day not facing punishment,"
"Is that what this is about? You're mad that he tried to go after me,"
"He didn't 'go after you', Y/N, he had you pinned against the wall and said what he wanted to do to you. I had to hear all of that,"
"You're not mad because I made the case harder for you. You're mad because I was in danger," You say, voice softer now as Rafael bites his cheek, looking out the window.
"Rafa," You say softly, sitting on the couch next to him.
"Olivia said something to me today. It's had me thinking a lot,"
"Well tell me. You know you can tell me anything," You say, feeling his warmth now that you're sitting so close.
"It was nothing. I assume you're right about the case, but you should still stay here,"
"Hm?" You ask, trying to not focus too much on the fact that he completely changed the subject.
"The snow storm is forecasted to make the roads dangerous. Stay here with me," He says and you feel your heart melt.
The light in the apartment is dim. The only light flickers from the gas fireplace that Rafael clicked on when you both came in. He swirls his drink in his hand as you sit inches away from him, both listening to the crackling of the fire.
The lights of NYC light up the windows as snow falls at a fast speed.
"You asked me here because you wanted to be with me and know I'm safe," You whisper and he bites his lip, and your heart begins to race.
"Rafa," You say, inching closer to him and he shifts in his seat,
"Olivia said that-well she asked if this case is going to be too personal for me because it involves you,"
"Wait what?" You ask, stomach now doing flips,
"She thought that I was too close to this case because it involves you,"
Your breath catches in your throat as you watch Rafael, your best friend in this whole world, put his drink down on the coffee table. This is not nearly the first time you've been here to talk about cases or just spend time with each other, but it's always been just that...nothing more than just friends.
"That makes sense. She knows we're good friends,"
"No. That's not it and you know it," He says, now looking you in the eyes as you fiddle with your fingers.
"me has embrujado" he whispers to himself before glancing back up at you.
"She was right, Y/N. I don't know how to win this case without wanting to rip this guy apart with my bare hands," Rafael says, and without another word, you put both hands on the sides of his face and kiss him gently.
He smiles into the kiss before placing a hand on the side of your head,
"How long have you felt this way?"
"Since the moment I met you," He says before kissing you again, laying you back down against the soft couch, letting the firelight illuminate each other's features.
The kiss deepens and you begin to undo his tie,
"You sure?"
"Rafa...please," You whisper and he smiles before he kisses your neck...leading to a night that you'd never ever forget.
Rafael Barba Imagine - Wrong Place Wrong Time (Part 1)
You are a detective for NYPD’s SVU under lieutenant Olivia Benson. In Season 17 Episode 10 you are abducted as a hostage with Olivia and Rafael is outside the scene.
There’s a saying that many say when a civilian becomes a victim by chance. That individual was at the wrong place wrong time. I guess that’s what could be said about right now.
Olivia came to my door around 8am this morning to have me come join her on a wellness check a few blocks down from my place. As odd as it was, I knew better than to question a good friend and my lieutenant. I suppose the woman who tipped Liv off said that she saw peculiar behavior this morning at this townhouse, claiming that the mother who answered the door seemed to be injured and frightened. At my short amount of time at SVU, I’ve learned that it’s better to just trust Olivia’s judgement first, ask questions later.
Now, I have found myself pushed up against the wall of this townhouse with a gun to my neck. The three criminals in this house are clearly junkies of some sort looking for money from this wealthy family. The father lays on the ground bloody under one of the criminals...he’s got a scruffy beard and a beanie on. The mother has a gun to her head by a woman with red hair and red around her eyes. The last man is the one who seems to be in charge in some way. He just slapped Olivia quite hard and now has his sights set on me.
“What about you, sweetheart? Are you a cop too?”
“Y-Yes. My gun is on the left side of my waist. There’s no other weapons on me,” I say, feeling his hands run up and down my sides with hot breath on my face.
I already feel sick to my stomach as he practically drags me over to the couch with the other women, then goes to argue with his fellow thieves in the kitchen. I watch them closely, trying to make sure I remember any names or any defining details about each of them.
“I’m so sorry I got you into this,” Olivia whispers beside me and I shake my head,
“We’re both just doing our job. Nobody could’ve known,” I whisper back, but becoming quickly quiet at the lead man starts yelling about how one of them is going to go with the mother to the bank? To some safety deposit box or something. Please, for the love of God let someone catch them in the act so the NYPD knows where Olivia and I are. It’s clear that these are just three junkies trying to score some more cash to buy more.
The ties on the backs of my hands sear into my skin as I fidget.
“Fin or Carisi will figure out something is wrong. I guarantee it’ll work out,” I whisper and she sighs, glancing back at the teenage daughter. She looks absolutely terrified as her mother is dragged out the back door by the thief in the hat, meanwhile ‘Joe’ stays here with us, still pointing the gun at us. The woman disappeared upstairs to talk to the young son who is tied up upstairs. I think I heard her name is Roxie? The buzzing of my phone distracts me as Joe walks over to shove both my and Olivia’s phones into his pockets.
“That’s our work. They will notice that we’re gone,”
He picks up Liv’s phone, sends a quick text, then puts the phone back in his pocket. Please, God let Rafael or Fin notice a difference in the way that Joe texted. They know that Liv would never just go silent amid an active case.
I glance at any possible exit routes, but know that these people have all the guns and little regard for our wellbeing so I’m going to just have to deal and trust Olivia.
The redhead comes back down the stairs dragging a little boy who can’t be any older than 5. It takes everything in me to not run to that little terrified kid as she sets him down next to his sister.
“When our work finds out that we’re gone they will track our phones and then they will call for backup. You both should leave now before they know who you are,” Olivia says as calmly as she can.
“Right right. As if we would leave here with nothing!” Joe yells and grabs me again, placing the gun against my neck,
“She’s right. You guys could slip out the back and they’d never know who you were,” I say softly, feeling the shaking of the gun against my skin. Maybe 20 minutes pass by before I hear the sirens outside. I can truly say I’ve never been so relieved to hear that beautiful noise. Though Joe is not as relieved as I am.
“You think this saves you, blondie, huh? You two don’t realize that I still have the upper hand! I can blow your pretty little head off in the blink of an eye, sweetheart,”
My heart is racing at this point. I do my best to not let this guy see that I’m terrified, but even Liv’s eyes are glossy.
“You. You’re going to tell them to stand down or your partner gets a bullet in her head,” He says, finger over the trigger of the gun,
“If I hear one word from those lips I will kill you,” He whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine and I just nod. Olivia just looks at me and nods, it’s just the two of them making the calls then, I guess.
I squeeze my eyes shut, simply trying to calm my nerves, though knowing my life could end at any goddamn second.
“They won’t do that, Joe,”
“You think I’m kidding, bitch!?” He screams at Olivia while pushing the gun harder against my head. I purse my lips together as tight at I can to prevent any scared noises from escaping my lips.
“Okay okay. I’ll call my sergaent,” Olivia whispers, shakily as Joe hands her the phone. I hear the phone ring a few times over the speaker, but at this point all I can really hear is my own heartbeat in my ears.
“Dodds,”
“Benson here. We’re all okay, but Joe wants the snipers and the cameras away,”
“We will hold off until the negotiator comes,” Dodds says and suddenly Joe goes back into a screaming fury about the negotiator and how that ain’t gonna fly with him or whatever. The phone call ends and I already begin to think of all the people I didn’t get to say goodbye to. I woke up this morning not having any idea that I’d be the one with the gun to her head in a hostage situation.
His eyes are so red now it’s absurd and his whole face is drenched in sweat.
“Joe, you are holding two police officers and two children hostage. If you don’t stand down this is not going to end well for you,” Olivia says as calmly as she can. “Okay new plan. Who at the NYPD cares if blondie here lives or dies?” He asks and I glance up at Olivia, knowing who she’s going to say but I pray she doesn’t. Don’t get him involved, please.
“Anyone in my squad cares if Detective McCann lives. They would all put it on the line for her,” Olivia says and Joe shakes his head, “I don’t want any low-grade detective. I need someone who cares about her who has pull...someone who has real power at the NYPD,” He says and I look at the ground, now my lips quivering, “You better give me a name soon, Benson. Or she’s the first body to drop,”
Before she gets a chance to say his name, the phone rings again.
“Answer it. And not a peep from you,” He spits at me while handing Liv the phone.
“Benson,”
“It’s Tucker. Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone here is alright. Roxie and Joe are taking good care of us. The father’s injuries are under control,”
“How about the mother?”
“She’s not here right now. But she will be back soon,” Olivia says, voice shaking.
“Is Joe with you right now?” Tucker asks and Joe puts the phone up to his mouth,
“Yeah I can hear everything,”
“Hey Joe. My name is Ed. How are you doing, Joe? Is everything alright?” Tucker asks and Joe laughs to himself, “What do you think, Ed? I’ve got a gun to your cute blonde cop. If I don’t get every single thing I want...she gets a nice bullet to the brain,”
You stirred your coffee, watching the scene unfold before you: your ADA, Rafael Barba was getting into it with your Captain in her office. Despite the door being shut, you could hear the loud voices. Your partner, Amanda came over along with the newest detective to join the ranks, Kat.
“Does he always seem like he has a law journal stuck up his ass?” Kat asked.
“That’s Barba for ya,” Amanda retorted. “He is very much by the book for the book. Liv is always pushing his buttons.”
“He needs to chill. He’s so wound up,” you replied sipping your coffee.
“He needs to get laid,” Amanda drawled.
You snorted while drinking your coffee which resulted in coffee drops everywhere. You groaned as your crisp white shirt was ruined. You reached over to grab a napkin and started to dab yourself.
The door to Liv’s office swung open and Rafael stormed out. As he stalked by, your eyes met.
“Detective,” Rafael acknowledged curtly. You gave him a tiny smile and nodded in his direction.
***One week later***
Amanda cocked her head as she, you and Kat headed out of One Hogan Place. “Well, he is in a much better mood. Getting that warrant was easy. I thought he would put up more of a stink.”
“Maybe something got to him,” Kat replied. “He heard our case.”
“More like someone got under him,” you winked before sauntering ahead. Amanda and Kat stopped in their tracks and looked at each other. “I’m going to get a coffee at the cart,” you continued, not missing a beat.
“Wait - hold up!” Amanda shouted as she jogged up to you.
Kat raised a brow as she followed suit. “Well, talk about getting cafe au’laid.”
FIN
**
AN: no tags for now because I’m in the middle of the grocery parking lot and I had to get this out.
Being in a long term relationship certainly has its perks, but it also has some downfalls. Some of your most favorite nights were just curling up with Rafael in sweats, watching a movie and eating takeout. It’s freeing to be completely comfortable with someone, to unabashedly yourself, but it also fosters an illusion of familiarity.
You weren’t bored per se, but you knew you two were hitting a rut. It all had become too monotonous and routine. For instance, Fridays were “flex-Fridays” at the courthouse and Rafael came home early those nights, a perk of being one of the more senior ADAs. As a courtroom sketch artist, you also had a more flexible schedule. You could almost count to the second he would walk through the door. Even the Chinese take-out place knew you before you even gave your name. “Cashew chicken and shrimp lo mein, egg rolls with hot mustard, I know, I know,” the woman on the other side of the line finished gleefully before you could even finish your own sentence.
Rafael thrived on the routine, since it created calm in his insanely stressful life but he could sense you were becoming unnerved. So one night, while you slept soundly, Rafael crept out of bed, and did some research.
When he pitched the idea to you, you were instantly into it.
There were fake names and backgrounds. You were a model in town for a shoot; he was a broker on Wall Street. There was also safety words: one as a warning and one to call the entire thing off in case either became too uncomfortable. You chose a bar in the Financial District - not too far from home/work but far enough that neither of you should be recognized.
Rafael had no idea what to even wear. Endless clothes hung in his closet and yet nothing seemed good enough. Eventually he settled on dark denim jeans, a crisp white button down and a black suit jacket. Prior to, he shaved off his beard, which he knew you might give him shit for later, but he wanted to really change it up for you. He tucked his gold crucifex into his shirt and sprayed on cologne. He ran the comb through his hair once more, creating a swoop in the front. Giving himself a once over, he nodded and grabbed his wallet and a mint to suck on.
Walking to the bar that night to meet his own girlfriend, Rafael was struck with anxiety. Choosing a bar stool felt as fraught with possibilities and drawbacks as an opening chess move. In the end, Rafael settled on a stool two away from another man at the end of the bar, leaving you the choice to sit beside either him or the other man.
He ordered a scotch and out of habit, he almost ordered you your own drink: a scotch on the rocks with a twist. Rafael took out his phone and hit up the SCOTUS blog, a favorite - reading about legal updates was soothing on his nerves.
As Rafael read, he was tempted to check the time every five seconds. He began to have second thoughts when you didn’t show exactly on the nose. Perhaps you changed your mind and when he got home, he’d find an empty apartment. That thought alone made his stomach knot up and want to puke.
You did show. Only 15 minutes late. When you walked in, Rafael had to remind himself to pick up his jaw, which had gone slack. You were, as always, beautiful. But you were almost unrecognizable. Your hair, which was usually pinned up, was loose, cascading over your shoulders. You wore a tight white halter sleeveless crop top, that just bared your midriff and a brown leather midi skirt, with a slit that traveled high, and left little to the imagination. You feet were adorned with leopard print heeled booties and you carried carried a red clutch. Your ears were adorned with thin silver hoops. Your makeup, which was usually demure, was bold. You had decided at the last minute to get your makeup done at Ulta, which was why you were late. The visual alone had roughly the same warm, disorienting effect on Rafael as a half a Dilaudid, chewed did.
Your eyes instinctively met and the familiarity of that alone, calmed you. Part of you just wanted to run up to him but you didn’t. You scanned through your seating options: sitting next to Rafael was too easy. Instead, you chose to sit across the way. The bartender approached and you ordered an old fashioned.
Rafael tried to watch you inconspicuously. He watched as you swirled the cherry from the drink with your tongue and he swallowed hard as you took it in between your teeth and bit down, squirting cherry juice on your lips.
Just as he was about to make his way over, someone else beat him to you. Rafael watched as the man struck up an easy conversation with you. You laughed at something he said, and leaned in just ever so slightly. Rafael shot the rest of his drink back quickly, and slammed his drink on the bar table a bit too hard, causing you to stop and glance over. The look was so subtle, that to anyone else it would have just been nothing, but Rafael could see the reassurance on your face. You quickly turned back to the persona non grata.
“Let me buy you another drink,” the man whose name you didn’t care to remember asked. You shook your head and raised your still full glass. “Thanks, but I am still working on this one.”
“You’re very beautiful. I find it hard to believe someone hasn’t snatched you up.”
“That’s because I am no one’s to snatch,” you replied curtly with a wink. “But I’m flattered that you find me beautiful.”
Rafael ordered another drink, accepting that you were forced to behave realistically flirtatious - that the game was no longer truly private - it was tethered to reality.
And to his own surprise, Rafael was also approached by someone else who was also interested in him. She was a lawyer - in wills and estates. She was interesting and pretty, so he did his bit, trying to not break character. Rafael pretended to be interested in what she was saying.
Eventually the stranger left, leaving you back alone. You watched as Rafael flirted on his own. You knew Rafael was easy to engage with and charming. You tried to not get equally as jealous as Rafael ordered the woman a drink - a martini with an obscene amount of olives. ‘How could anyone not be attracted to him?’ You wondered. “It should be illegal to be that fucking hot,” you muttered before taking another sip of your drink.
You weren’t alone much longer, as you were approached by someone else. The conversation with gentleman number two went more smoothly even though you felt uncertain and self conscious as to how the game would continue.
Both new friends left, and somehow subconsciously you found yourself closer to Rafael. And finally, Rafael approached you and introduced himself. It was awkward at first, but then it became flirty and fun. There was a sense of trust and permission granting that whatever was happening was okay. You were both playing together.
Chit chat was made about where you were both from and lines of work. Rafael was enchanted by your persona. Gabrielle Cilmi’s “Sweet About Me” played in the background; the raspy and coarse delivery against the electro beat and rocksteady grooves with lyrics about making trouble seemed to resemble the playful mood between you and Rafael.
Rafael allowed himself to be seduced by you and you him. You closed the gap between the two of you as he talked about dominating the stock market.
“Is that so?” You batted your eyes coquettishly, pressing yourself against him. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and you can dominate me.”
Rafael’s eyes darkened as he swallowed his drink. You smirked before leaning over the bar, trying to wave down the bartender to order another round of drinks. Rafael admired the how the supple leather framed your rear and he could feel the heat pool in his groin. More drinks were had. The flirtation intensified. When Rafael touched your hand, the feeling was electric - as if you were touching for the first time. Rafael dipped his head to your ear, his breath tickled you and his cologne overwhelmed your senses.
“Want to get out of here?” Rafael questioned huskily, his voice low and gravely.
“What did you say your name was again? I want to make sure I’m screaming the right name tonight,” you purred, caving.
Rafael grinned cheekily. Never had he paid a bar tab so quickly.
The sound of the sanitation truck barreling down your block stirred you awake. You opened your eyes, wincing as bright sunshine flooded the room. Your head pounded and you regretted drinking so much champagne. You shifted and it dawned on you that you were not alone - and naked. You carefully turned around and were face to face with one Rafael Barba who was in a deep sleep and was also equally naked.
‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,’ you thought to yourself. You carefully crept out of bed and grabbed your purple fuzzy robe that was hanging off your chair, wrapping it tightly around your body. Careful to not disturb Rafael, you reached for your phone off the wireless charger pad and made way to your kitchen.
You quickly unlocked your phone and found yourself with at least half a-dozen messages from fellow detective, and your partner, Amanda. You scrolled through them quickly.
[Rollins, 7:54 AM]: Have fun last night?
[Rollins, 7:54 AM]: I want all the details.
[Rollins, 7:55 AM]: Is he as high strung in bed or does it all implode into wild, animal sex?
You felt yourself turn pink. And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, there were pictures of you and Rafael making out in the back of Forlini’s, with his hands gripping your ass.
“Happy fucking New Year,” you muttered to yourself. You grabbed a mug from your cabinet and popped a coffee pod into the keurig, quickly brewing a cup.
You stared at the photo of Rafael and you making out once more as the memories of the night prior came flooding back.
***
You hurried into Forlini’s just as a blast of cold winter wind blew through. You rugged down your skirt, which you felt was far too obscene but Amanda insisted you wear. The bar was crowded, as expected of course. It was New Year’s Eve.
You scanned the crowd and spotted your teammates. A familiar set of green eyes spotted you and waved you over. You gave a small wave in return, feeling your stomach flutter. You pushed through the sea of bodies before making your way to the oversized red plush booth where everyone was gathered.
“Detective L/N, so glad you could join us,” Rafael greeted you, standing. He extended his arm to the bow vacant seat. “Sit, sit.”
“Thanks,” you replied, sitting. “What’d I miss?”
“Oh we were just busting Barba’s chops about if he had a date for tonight,” Amanda replied with a wink as she picked up her beer bottle. You reached over and took it out of her hand, and took a swig.
“Really? A date? Isn’t that great...” you gritted.
Rafael rolled his eyes. “Not that it’s anyone’s business...” he began but the rest of his comment fell on deaf ears and you ignored the sinking feeling in your stomach.
You wondered why you had bothered to come. The reality was that with your line of work, it was hard to socialize, never mind actually establish a relationship. You weren’t sure when it happened, but you harbored a small - tiny- minuscule even, crush on Rafael Barba, Manhattan’s golden-boy ADA, who took on the cases no one else wanted - and won.
However, Amanda insisted, chirping that that the team was overdue a night out and what better than ringing in the new year together.
Amanda didn’t let on, but she knew about your little crush. She saw how you intently watched Rafael during court and she recognized the subconscious body language when you were in contact with him. And she had a feeling deep down that Rafael might be receptive.
Deviously she planned the festivities, and she made sure Rafael at least made an appearance to night’s festivities.
Hours later, and much champagne was had on empty stomach. You wobbled slightly on your heels, spotting Rafael at the bar nursing a scotch.
“Where is your date?” you asked, hopping onto a bar stool.
“I don’t have one,” Rafael quipped as he watched you get onto the stool. His eyes darkened as he watched your obscenely tight skirt ride up, exposing your thigh.
“How is it that you don’t have a date? You’re so smart and funny and...” you trailed off.
“And?” Rafael prodded, a brow cocked in amusement.
“And handsome,” you replied in a sing-song fashion.
“You think I’m handsome?” Rafael continued, swallowing the last of what was his fourth - fifth - sixth - he couldn’t remember - drink.
“Ten seconds to midnight,” you heard someone that vaguely sounded like Sonny shout.
“Ten... nine... eight...” the crowd began to chant. Rafael hopped off his seat and grabbed your hand, helping you off of yours. You were pressed against him, chest to chest, near nose to nose. Rafael felt simultaneously soft and solid. His cologne wafted in your nostrils, and the room felt warm. You could also smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with mint. Your olfactory senses were on overdrive.
Meanwhile Rafael couldn’t believe his luck. He had always been charmed and fascinated by you, but felt he couldn’t make the move - you were many years younger than he was and he was a certified workaholic. He knew you were intoxicated - so was he - his mind was fuzzy and his tongue a bit numb. When he helped you off, he couldn’t help but notice how you fit into his embrace, almost as if you were the missing piece to a puzzle.
“Six... five... four...”
Rafael stared into your eyes. He was completely memorized by how deep their color was. Your lips parted and you instinctively licked your lips. Just that hint of pink from your tongue and his mind was made up.
“Two... one... HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Rafael nodded slightly and you nodded back. Even when under the influence, he always made sure to get consent. Rafael lowered his head, capturing your lips with his. The kiss intensified quickly, all tongue and teeth as months of repressed feelings came to light. You both stumbled against the bar, your back to the crowd behind you. Rafael used the opportunity to grab your ass, bringing you closer to him.
Amanda hollered and grabbed her phone, snapping a picture. Fin whistled before clapping. “About damn time.”
“Well, here’s to new beginnings,” Sonny cheered raising his beer and clinking it against Amanda’s phone.
Eventually the two of you made it out of the bar and into a cab, and to your apartment which was the setting for some very amorous activities.
***
“Good morning,” Rafael quipped behind you, causing you to jump. You turned around and Rafael was in the kitchen doorway, his hair all tussled, in nothing but boxers. You swallowed hard as you took his semi-nude form in, your eyes landing on a very prominent hickey just above his waist band.
“Hi,” you replied, almost shyly. “Coffee?”
“That would be lovely,” Rafael replied. “It would be even lovelier if you had some aspirin.”
You nodded, turning to another cabinet. You reached in, and Rafael smiled as he watched your robe rise slightly. The image of your legs in the air, flashed through his mind and he coughed, trying to set himself straight. You turned, brows furrowed and tossed him the bottle before grabbing another cup and coffee pod.
“Look about last night...,” you began, inserting the pod, “... we can forget about it. Mistakes happen and we had too much champagne.”
“I wasn’t that drunk,” Rafael cut you off, stepping closer to you. “Last night wasn’t a mistake. Not for me at least.”
Your eyes widened slightly at his words. “Oh.”
“If you aren’t... we can forget it,” Rafael rushed out, feeling crushed.
“No!” you almost shouted. “No,” you repeated, the second time more softly. “I like you. A lot,” you confessed. “As you can tell,” you teased, your face turning pink as you pointed at the love mark on his lower abdomen.
“Good,” Rafael replied, with a smile. “I like you a lot too. And I’d like to maybe start over - not that last night wasn’t fun, but maybe start with dinner?”
“Or coffee?” you winked as you handed him the hot mug. You stepped towards him, closing the space between. Rafael nodded, accepting the coffee, but then moved it to the table adjacent to him. Tugging on your robe, he brought you even closer.
“Or coffee,” he murmured before dipping his lips to yours once more. You allowed yourself to get swept into the kiss.
You frowned surveying the damage that was in front of you. The table decor ruined. The crystal candelabra that was a family heirloom was shattered on the floor. Silver charger plates were strewn about on the floor along with the red placemats you had gone out of your way to crochet. The nativity scene that was set on the table, was on the floor. You bent down to pick up a broken angel.
Certainly you both didn’t mean to defile the holy family, but things got heated in the kitchen. You shivered as you recalled the actions from moments earlier: what started off as goofing off as you both prepped Christmas dinner eventually lead to Rafael throwing you down on the dining room table - passionate kisses full of teeth and tongue, hands touching everywhere, and writhing bodies. You were wrecked as Rafael fucked you without abandon.
You tightened your robe when you stood back up. You heard Rafael’s footsteps and he was next to you within seconds. You heard him audibly sigh as he took in the damage.
“Rafi we are hosting Christmas dinner tonight. People will be here soon,” your voice cracked at the last word.
“It’s fine. We will clean up. No one will be the wiser,” Rafael reassured.
Later that night you sipped your wine as you chatted with Lucia.
“Y/N, what happened to the baby Jesus?” Carisi asked, crouching by the nativity scene you had half salvaged and tried to hide on a coffee table adjacent to the couch. Carisi’s brow was furrowed as he half-waved a headless baby figurine.
Your eyes widened and you felt your face grow hot. Rafael burst out laughing - and kept laughing so much that he had to leave the room.
You mumbled a nonsensical excuse and followed suit to the kitchen. Rafael was bent over, laughing so hard, he was wheezing.
“We have a one way ticket to Hell you know that, right?” You quipped, approaching Rafael.
“Oh, cariño as long as I am with you...,” Rafael replied pressing a kiss to your lips.
Your kiss was interrupted by Lucia who had stuck her head in.
“Remind me to pick up a new nativity scene,” Lucia commented before heading back to the dining room.
You groaned into your hands and Rafael pulled you into a hug. “We are totally going to hell.”
