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fatecantstopme · 22 days

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Late Night Brilliance

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader

Summary: Barba shows up at your house unexpectedly one evening to go over a case. What began as an honest need to work through some inconsistencies, turned into a battle to maintain professionalism and composure.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), oral (M receiving), mentions of F receiving oral, fingering, light dom/sub vibes (Rafi is totally a dom).

A/N: Spanish Translations:

Querida/Cariño/Nena: Terms of endearment (darling/sweetheart/baby)

Meirda: shit

Por favor: please

The rest will be in brackets and italics after the sentence.

You were in the middle of eating your Chinese takeout when you were disturbed by a knock at your door. You weren't expecting any company and had been taking full advantage of a quiet Friday night in.

You sighed quietly as you pulled yourself off the sofa and went to answer the door. A shiver of surprise ran down your spine as you peered through the peephole. You groaned inwardly, glancing down at your rather disheveled appearance. You'd thrown on an old baggy t-shirt and leggings when you'd gotten home from work, but one look at the man standing on the other side of your door filled you with regret.

You pushed down any feelings of dread--and butterflies--as you opened the door and greeted your visitor with a warm smile. "Rafael Barba. What brings you by at 6:30pm on a Friday?"

Your tone was light and teasing, despite the unease you felt internally. He gave you his signature half-smirk, eyes quickly scanning you from head to toe, making you feel even more self-conscious.

He was wearing a beautiful three piece navy pinstripe suit with a lovely pink tie. You had no doubt he had matching suspenders under that damn vest...you hated how good he looked even after a long day of work.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said in a tone that indicated he knew damn well he wasn't interrupting anything. "I was hoping to talk to you about the Milligan case."

"Nothing better to do on a Friday night, Counselor?"

He chuckled. "My options were to spend the evening in my office, at home alone, or come spend it with a beautiful woman. I chose the latter."

You were more than a little surprised by his words, though you did your best not to show it. The two of you were known to flirt occasionally, but neither had dared to cross the line. A relationship between the two of you was out of the question, not that he was even interested in pursuing one with you. After all, he was married to his work and you were quite far from his type...you'd seen Yelina.

"Lucky for you, I also have no life outside of my job," you teased. "Come on in and make yourself at home. I've got Chinese food if you're hungry and I just opened a bottle of Merlot."

Rafael followed you in, shedding his suit jacket and draping it across the back of a dining chair. He began to roll up the sleeves of his white button down and you felt a stirring in your abdomen. "Chinese sounds amazing, but I can't say I'm a fan of Merlot."

It took you a moment to register the words he'd spoken as you were too preoccupied with not revealing how incredibly sexy you thought he looked in that moment. "I, uh--I think I have some bourbon if you're interested."

You practically bolted to the kitchen to look in the cabinet where you kept the liquor. You desperately needed to be as far away from him as possible before your face gave away the thoughts in your head.

"Bourbon sounds good."

Your eyes scanned the cabinet, locating the half-empty bottle at the back of the shelf. "Two fingers or three?"

"Three," he answered, voice much closer than it had been moments before.

You turned around to see Rafael leaning against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest. Your eyes nearly rolled into your head at the sight and you let out an audible sound you hoped could be interpreted as surprise.

You poured the drink in silence, before handing it to him and gesturing for him to follow you to the living room. "We can eat at the table if you prefer..." you trailed off.

"Not necessary. The couch looks perfectly comfortable."

He sat down on one end of the couch and you sat on the other, as far away as you could possibly get without sitting on the arm. He raised an eyebrow at you, but didn't comment on the awkward distance you'd managed to put between you.

"So you--um--you wanted to talk about Milligan?" you asked.

"Not exactly. I wanted to talk about the victim, Shelly."

"What about her?"

"Something about her story isn't sitting right with me."

"Okay..."

"I want you to go over it with me again. Maybe give me a fresh set of eyes and a different perspective?"

"I'm not sure how much help I can be, Barba. I was in the room when she disclosed--that's not exactly a fresh set of eyes."

"Perhaps, but you are a psychologist. You see things very differently from the rest of us."

You sighed. "Alright, I'll bite. Where do you wanna start?"

As the two of you began to discuss the case and the inconsistencies in the victim's story, your discomfort started to evaporate. This is what you were passionate about--what you were best at. Everything else simply faded away and Rafael became just a colleague, not a man you were hopelessly romantically interested in.

Two hours passed, but it felt like no time at all. Your coffee table was littered with files and papers, and both you and Rafael were leaning over it, examining pieces of evidence. He was mere inches from you, but you were so absorbed in what you were doing that you hardly noticed.

"Cariño, can you pass me that witness statement?" Rafael asked.

You grabbed the paper he was referring to and handed it to him, eyes still scanning the page in front of you. The term of endearment didn't even register in your mind, nor did he seem to realize he'd even said it aloud.

After a few moments, Rafael asked you another question. "Do you have the surveillance photos from the bar?"

You pushed a few folders out of the way, digging the file with the photos out from the bottom of the stack. "What are you looking for?"

"Her outfit."

"Why?"

He didn't answer as he flipped through the photos, finally landing on the one he had been looking for. "Look at this."

He handed you the photo, which you'd seen before. "Yeah that's Shelly leaving the bar before the assault."

"Right. Notice her outfit?"

You glanced at the photo again. "Typical night out attire. Why is this important?"

He handed you the statement he'd been reading earlier. "She came directly to the precinct after her assault to disclose, right? Nowhere in her initial statement does she say she ever changed clothes."

You'd been there the night in question, had sat beside Olivia as she took Shelly's statement. "She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt," you stated.

"So why didn't she tell us she went home first?"

"She might have been worried we would judge her or blame her for the assault because she wasn't dressed like a nun."

"Yeah, I suppose that's possible."

He looked a little crestfallen, like you'd rained on his parade. He knew in his gut Shelly wasn't telling the whole story, but he couldn't prove it. He needed a single thread...just one thread to pull on. He needed to know now before the trial began and the defense unraveled the entire case.

A thought dawned on you. "No semen, no body fluids," you mumbled as you searched the coffee table for the rape kit report from the hospital.

Rafael watched you, unsure of what you were thinking.

"Ahh!" You grabbed the report and flipped through it. "There was evidence of trauma to her vagina and several bruises on her body, but there were zero traces of any DNA that wasn't hers."

"Okay, but that's not uncommon."

"Perhaps if she'd waited to report, I would agree, but I think there's an alternative reason."

He raised an eyebrow and waited for you to continue.

"She went home and showered."

Realization dawned on his face. "Didn't you or Olivia ask that question?"

"Of course we did, but I think she was scared to tell us, scared of what we'd say."

"We need to reinterview her."

You nodded.

Rafael pulled out his phone and called Olivia. He relayed what you'd discovered and asked her to reinterview Shelly the following day. Olivia agreed and thanked him for letting her know.

"You're brilliant, you know that?" he said as he hung up, vivid green eyes locked on your face.

"Minor detective work, at best," you said with a shrug. "I've been doing this long enough that I should be able to put pieces of a puzzle together. Besides, as you rightfully mentioned, it's my job to study and understand human behavior."

He smiled. "Even still, it was good work."

"You found the pieces, I just put them together."

"Take the compliment, (Y/N). You know I give them so rarely."

You laughed. "Alright, alright. Thank you, Rafael."

His expression shifted slightly, gaze darkening as he looked at you. "I don't think you've ever called me by my first name before." Even his voice was lower, huskier.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks. "I--uh, I'm sorry."

He reached out and grabbed your hand. "Please don't apologize. I liked hearing it...very much."

Heat began to spread through your entire body, coloring more than just your cheeks. You were unsure how to respond--the unfamiliar territory both daunting and exciting.

Rafael mistook your silence for discomfort, immediately removing his hand from yours and looking incredibly uncomfortable. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

Everything in you wanted to reach out and touch him, reassure him that his words--and his touch--were welcome, but you knew that would be crossing a line you couldn't uncross.

"No worries," you mumbled.

The awkward silence stretched on for a few moments, during which time you were silently kicking yourself for making things weird.

"Well, umm, thank you for your help tonight. I-I guess I should be going," Rafael muttered lowly.

He started to get up and gather the papers strewn about the coffee table. You knew you should help him, but you didn't move--frozen in place with indecision. He couldn't see the war raging inside you, couldn't hear the thoughts screaming in your head.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally forced out two words, "Don't go."

Rafael paused, holding a few papers in one hand and a folder in the other. "Pardon?"

You swallowed thickly, rising to your feet. "Please stay."

Surprise lit up his handsome face. "It's getting late," he said softly. "Are you sure you want me to stay?"

You nodded.

He slowly set the papers back down and came to the other side of the coffee table, positioning himself directly in front of you. He reached out, tentatively placing his warm palm against your cheek. You leaned into his hand, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"I need to hear you say it, querida," he murmured.

Your bright (y/e/c) eyes met his, a surge of confidence making your words clearer. "I want you to stay, Rafael."

His lips parted slightly, partially in surprise and partially in arousal. He stepped closer to you, closing the gap between you. His lips ghosted over yours before finally pressing gently against them, pulling you into a soft kiss.

You wanted nothing more than to lean into his kiss, to feel his hands on your body--you wanted to know what it was like to be worshipped by him, to make love to him.

But the rational part of your brain--the part that kept you on the straight and narrow your entire life--had managed to rear its ugly head. You couldn't drown out the voice in your head screaming at you that this was wrong--that you couldn't do this with him...he was your coworker, for god's sake.

You suddenly pulled away from him, voice coming out in a rushed whisper, "We can't."

While he was disheartened at the sound of your words, he wasn't really surprised. It wasn't forbidden--technically--but that didn't make it easy, or even right. "I won't force you, cariño."

His soft, comforting words made you want him even more. You sighed quietly and leaned your forehead against his. "We shouldn't," you whispered so softly he almost missed it.

His hands had settled on your hips and he began to rub soothing circles into your sides. "Can't or shouldn't?" he asked lowly.

Your trembling hand pressed firmly against his chest in a way that made him feel like you were pulling him closer, not pushing him away. "Please," you begged softly, neither of you sure of exactly what you were asking for.

Rafael's left hand slid lower on your hip, the tips of his long fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your bottom. His right hand pulled you closer to him, holding you flush against his body. "Tell me you don't want me--don't want this," he pleaded, voice husky with desire.

Your lips trembled against his mouth, body responding to his like it was made for him. "I can't..."

His left hand moved to grab you more fully, eliciting a soft moan of need from your lips. "Querida...tell me to stop."

"Please don't stop," you whimpered. "I need you--por favor, Rafi."

"Mierda," he growled, pulling you somehow even closer to him. His lips crashed into yours with a hunger you couldn't describe--a hunger you returned in kind.

The next several moments were a flurry of hands all but tearing at each other's clothes, desperate to feel skin to skin contact. In what had to be a record pace, the two of you found yourselves standing in nothing but underwear in the middle of your living room.

Rafael grabbed you tightly and tugged you down with him as he fell into a sitting position on the couch. You straddled his strong thighs, lips still hungrily devouring his.

He groaned lowly as your pelvis ground against his erection, the intense need for friction almost painful. His soft hands ghosted up your back, unclasping your bra with practiced ease.

You pulled away from him just long enough to send your bra flying across the room. Rafael licked his lips in anticipation before leaning forward to capture your nipple between his soft lips.

You sighed softly, fingers twining through his hair in order to hold him tightly against you. He used one hand to massage your other breast before switching to ensure both received equal treatment.

"Rafi," you whimpered as the need to feel him inside of you continued to grow.

"Si, hermosa?" he murmured.

You ground down against his erection again, silently telling him what you needed.

His hands immediately went to your hips, halting your movements. "I need you to tell me what you want, querida."

"You," you begged.

He smirked. "Puedes hacerlo mejor. Usa tus palabras." [You can do better. Use your words.]

If you were being honest with yourself, your Spanish was not nearly as good as it had been when you were younger...after all, you hadn't really spoken much Spanish since high school. Working with Nick Amaro, and now Rafael, had forced you to revisit your knowledge of the language in an attempt to brush up. Thankfully, you understood a hell of a lot more than you spoke, so you were able to piece together what he was telling you to do.

"I want you, Rafael, please."

"I'm right here, hermosa."

You glared at him, which earned you a patented smirk in response.

"Si quieres algo solo tienes que preguntar," he murmured softly. [If you want something, you just have to ask.]

You bit your lip. You weren't a shy person, but you had never been very vocal during sex in the past. Your partners didn't often ask you what you actually wanted, so you weren't even sure how to respond to him.

"I want you to touch me."

"Donde?" [Where?]

You realized he wasn't going to let you get away with not being explicit, but you couldn't quite bring yourself to say the words out loud. Instead, you grabbed his right hand and guided it between your legs, placing it firmly against your extremely damp panties. "Here."

Rafael smiled wolfishly. "Now was that so hard?" His voice was teasing, but there was a heat in his eyes that betrayed exactly how turned on he was.

He didn't give you a chance to respond as he pulled your underwear aside and slipped his fingers between your dripping folds. You gasped softly, hands gripping onto his shoulders for support.

"Is this what you needed, cariño?" His fingers gently toyed with your clit, providing some stimulation, but not exactly what you needed.

"More, Rafi, por favor," you begged.

In response, Rafael slipped two fingers inside of you, twisting his hand to form a come hither motion as he sought your sweet spot. His thumb provided the pressure against your clit that you so desperately needed and you moaned loudly as his fingers found your g-spot.

"There we go, nena. Te tengo." [I've got you.]

You clung to his shoulders as his expert fingers worked you closer and closer to the edge. You were almost surprised by the ease with which you felt your orgasm approaching--you couldn't remember the last time you'd cum from nothing more than a man's hands.

Rafael slid a third finger inside of you and began to add more pressure to his movements on your clit. The stimulation was exactly what you needed and you knew your orgasm was close. You were hesitant to tell him, but you also didn't want him to stop. "Rafi, I'm so close--please don't stop."

"I won't," he murmured, changing nothing about his current movements. "Quiero sentirte venir." [I want to feel you come.]

Your breathing was labored and your legs had begun to shake--a surefire sign of your impending orgasm. He could feel your walls squeezing his fingers and he couldn't wait to feel the sensation around his cock.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as your orgasm rushed over you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Rafael slowed his motions, but didn't stop until you began to whimper and squirm away from him.

He pulled his fingers out of you and lifted them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of enjoyment. "Tastes so good, nena. Can't wait to taste you properly."

Your eyes widened slightly, having found the action extremely arousing. Your gaze then traveled down his body, landing on his still clothed cock. Your eyes flicked back up to his, your expression practically begging him to fuck you properly.

"Hay algo que quieras?" [Is there something you want?] he asked with a smile.

"I'd really like you to lose the boxers."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, enjoying your demanding tone more than he'd expected. "Stand up for me, querida."

You did as he asked, albeit slowly.

He lifted his hips and slowly tugged his boxers down, finally freeing his painfully hard cock. Your eyes widened slightly, gaze appreciative of his member. He was both thick and long, and the head was leaking enough precum to give you the strong urge to taste it.

Your eyes never left his cock as you tugged your own panties off, wanting to be just as deliciously naked as he was. You started to drop to your knees, but Rafael reached out and grabbed your arm.

"What are you doing, nena?"

"I wanna taste you," you answered softly.

He closed his eyes for a moment, swearing softly in Spanish under his breath. "As much as I would love to feel your pretty little mouth on my cock, I don't think I can take it."

You felt incredibly disappointed and your expression must have shown it because his gaze took on a slightly pitying look.

"Just a taste?" you pleaded.

He couldn't deny he wanted it as badly as you did--probably more so, but what really pushed him over the edge was the sound of your soft voice begging him. He didn't wanna say no to you--ever.

He released your arm with a soft sigh. "Está bien--just a taste." [Alright.]

You grinned, feeling pleased at having won. You dropped to your knees and gripped his cock in your warm hand, gently stroking him before leaning forward to lick the precum from the tip. Rafael groaned at the feeling, followed by a string of Spanish curses as you took his cock in your mouth.

The sensations you were providing him had him making more noise than you'd ever imagined. His fingers fisted into your hair and his hips jerked as you pleasured him--a feeling of pride settling into you as you listened to his moans. You felt powerful, having made the great Rafael Barba turn to putty in your hands.

His grip in your hair tightened and he pulled you off his cock much sooner than you would have liked--a groan of displeasure leaving your lips in protest.

"Get up here," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was the same tone he used in court when he was tearing someone apart on the stand.

You immediately did as he asked, once again straddling his thighs, but this time, you awaited further instructions. Everything about his demeanor oozed dominance and you were more than happy to slip into a submissive role for him.

He gripped his cock and slid the head between your folds, sending sharp bolts of pleasure through both of you.

"Dime que me quieres," he demanded. [Tell me you want me.]

"I want you, Rafael," you answered instantly.

He smiled at your clear willingness to obey. "Dime que me necesitas." [Tell me you need me.]

"I need you."

He leaned forward so his lips were inches from your ear. "Vas a gritar mi nombre?" [Are you gonna scream my name?]

"Si, Rafi! Please!" you begged. "Te necesito dentro de mi." [I need you inside of me.]

He rolled his hips up slightly, pushing the head of his cock into you. He held you tightly in place, not allowing you to move lower.

"More, please!" you cried, desperately trying to lower yourself onto him fully.

"Rogar por esto, nena. Dejame escucharte." [Beg for it, baby. Let me hear you.]

"Please, Rafi, please," you pleaded. "I'll do anything--please. Please just fuck me!"

His grip on your hips lessened just as he rolled his hips upwards, allowing him to plunge into you as you pressed yourself down on him. The tip of his cock brushed against your cervix, sending a jolt of pain through you, but pain quickly turned to pleasure as he began to move.

"You feel so good, querida. So tight and warm--made for me, weren't you?" Rafael murmured into your skin as he slowly rolled his hips.

You whimpered slightly, the slow pace not enough to soothe the burning ache within you.

He noticed the way you shifted, clearly seeking more friction, so he loosened his grip on you, allowing you more freedom. You gripped onto his shoulders, using them as additional leverage as you began to ride him properly.

Salacious sounds filled the room, a mixture of your bodies joining together and your shared moans and whimpers. Rafael's mouth nipped and sucked at your pulse point, your collarbone, and your lips--anything he could reach.

The position was enjoyable, but Rafael sensed you needed more--and he felt the need to take over. He pulled you in close to him, holding you tightly as he stood, flipping you onto your back on the couch.

You gasped in surprise, delighted at the change in position. Rafael immediately took charge, bending your legs towards your chest and thrusting into you hard and fast.

"I need to feel you cum, hermosa. Dime que necesitas." [Tell me what you need.]

You were a whimpering, moaning mess beneath him, and your brain was struggling to make sense of the words he was saying. It took you a moment to understand, but even then you couldn't find the words. Instead, you slipped your hand between your bodies and began to rub your clit.

Rafael pushed your hand out of the way, replacing it with his own. He'd be damned if he wasn't the one who made you fall apart. "Vendrás por mi?" [You gonna come for me?]

"Rafi!" you cried out--the only coherent thing you'd said in minutes.

Your pussy clenched down on his cock, squeezing him so tightly he nearly came on the spot. He continued to fuck you exactly as he had been, fingers still pulsing against your clit.

Moments later, you came with a loud cry of his name, wave after wave of intense pleasure crashing down on you as he rode you through the orgasm.

He removed his hand from your clit, using it instead to grip the back of the sofa, his other hand supporting his weight on the arm. He chased his own high, finding it a few seconds after you. He groaned your name as his hot seed filled you up, hips still pumping for a few moments before he collapsed on top of you.

You wrapped your arms around him as he came down, aftershocks wracking both of your bodies.

Once you'd both caught your breath, Rafael lifted his head to look at you. He smiled as he took in your fucked out appearance--evidence of your enjoyment written all over your face.

"You're so beautiful, querida," he murmured.

You blushed. "So are you."

He chuckled. "I'm not quite sure a man wants to hear that he's beautiful."

"Eres muy guapo, papi," you said with a grin.

His eyes darkened slightly. "That's much better."

He pulled himself up so he could kiss you properly. When he deepened the kiss, you found yourself heating up--the desire once again building in your core.

"How 'bout I take you to bed and properly worship you, cariño? Would you like that?"

Your eyes widened. "You don't have to..."

"I know, but I want to. I wanna taste that pretty pussy properly before I fuck you again."

You grinned a little, enjoying the twinkling in his eye as he looked at you. "Second door on the left," you stated, pointing down the hall.

"Perfecto," he murmured as he stood up. He leaned down and scooped you up in his arms, bridal style, and began to carry you towards the bedroom.

"Rafi!" you yelled in surprise, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

He tossed you onto your bed and crawled on top of you to kiss you deeply. "Now, if it pleases the court, I'd like to spend the next 15 minutes with my head between these sexy thighs."

Your cheeks blushed as you chuckled lightly. "It pleases the court very much."

He gave you one last grin before lowering himself between your legs and sending you to heaven as many times as your body would let him.

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