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Old Letters - Rafael Barba Imagine (Law & Order: SVU)

Title: Old Letters

Pairing: Rafael Barba X Reader

Word Count: 1,352 words

Warning(s): mentions of violent threats (non-descriptive)

Summary: A threat from (Y/n)'s past starts causing problems again and no one is allowing them to take it on alone.

Author's Note: I've watched a lot of this show over the last few days.

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I hadn't noticed that I was acting differently. Not at first, at least.

I had snapped at the team a few times. I knew that much. But I assumed it was my mind focusing on the case. I was taking it seriously. That was a good thing. That was always a good thing, wasn't it?

I thought so until I made it to Rafael's office with Liv to discuss what we had found.

"It's conclusive evidence," I said.

"To us, to a jury...," Rafael trailed off.

"Always assuming the worse," I muttered.

"It's my job," he replied, standing from his chair. "I have to be able to see where potential landmines are."

"No, you just like operating on the idea that the jury is going to be full of assholes," I snapped. "Because then, when you get a good verdict, it inflates your ego because look at you, you made the assholes show empathy for a victim-"

"(Y/n)."

I looked at Liv when she spoke. Her eyes were wide. I had never acted like this before, especially not with Rafael. The two of us were always close, even before we had started our relationship.

"We'll go," she said simply. "We'll call with any updates."

I took a deep breath before going to follow her out. She made it out the door before Rafael spoke up.

"(Y/n), wait-"

"Rafael, I have work," I said, trying to wave him off.

"And your work has never resulted in you snapping at me or anyone on your team," he replied. "Especially, not like that. Something is different about this case."

"Nothing is different. I am perfectly fine. I have to go."

He grabbed my hand to get me to stop. "Please, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about," I pulled his hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles. "I'm okay."

"You very clearly aren't."

I dropped his hand. "You don't get to decide that."

I walked out before he could question me any further. I only stopped in the doorway.

I tried to go about the rest of the case like nothing was affecting me. It seemed to work for the most part. If anyone noticed something, then they didn't say it.

I held onto everything until the court case was over.

After that, it was like any wall I had broke down. No more distractions. I had to confront what was happening.

I had managed to change into some more comfortable clothes and get to my window before it all came crashing down.

I almost felt stupid as I placed my hand over my mouth and started crying. It was all just fear. That was the only real explanation that I had for sobbing like this.

"(Y/n)?"

I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes when I heard Rafael walk in. The only person that I trusted with a key. He told me that he was coming over tonight.

"Hey," he said softly. I heard him setting some stuff down before walking closer. I turned around to face him. "What's wrong?"

"You were right," I admitted, blinking away a fresh wave of tears. "I... I'm not okay."

I folded in on myself a bit as I sobbed.

"Hey..."

He walked over and pulled me into a hug, letting me cry into his shoulder. I tried to focus on stopping the tears. I didn't want to sit here and feel sorry for myself. Rafael was too nice to me. He didn't complain, didn't ask questions, didn't shush me. He just held me and waited. Too patient.

I eventually leaned back, avoiding any eye contact as I leaned on the window. I only looked over at him when he leaned on the window next to me. He offered me a small grin as he grabbed my hand.

Again, too nice.

"This guy," I tried to explain. "It was the first guy I caught with S.V.U. He got off easy considering what had done. A few years, maybe. Should've been longer. Now... he's being released. This case... the timing... made everything spark back up again. Those feelings that come from your first case."

"Okay," Rafael nodded. "There's more."

"He wrote me a letter when he first got sentenced," I continued. "He had a plan ready for when he got out. Pretty... detailed. I'm the one that cuffed him, I'm the one he's after."

"Does anyone else know about that letter?"

"I was stupid and embarrassed and scared. The guy had my address."

"(Y/n)-"

"I thought it was weak," I cut him off. "I... I figured I had enough time that he would give up."

"And then?"

"Another letter was placed under my windshield."

"(Y/n)-"

"Stop scolding me, we were in the middle of a case."

"You're staying with me," he shrugged.

"No," I scoffed. "I'm fine. I can handle this."

"This wasn't a question," he said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I'm calling Benson. You need the team to back you."

"I don't-"

"Please."

I paused when I saw the look on his face. He was typically calm, calculated even. This was not that. This was fear. Pure fear. I nodded and went to pack a bag.

Benson was waiting when we got to Rafael's apartment.

"Liv," I groaned.

"You needed to talk to me."

"I had it handled-"

"No, you didn't."

I looked down. I deserved the bluntness of her response.

"We need the letters."

I sighed. "My desk at my place. Top drawer. I hid them in some old conference pamphlet."

"Thank you."

"Come on," Rafael placed his hand on my back, leading me inside. My bag was thrown over his shoulder.

We didn't talk for a little while. I put my bag down next to his bed and sat on the edge of it. I looked around the room, trying to become more accustomed to it. He walked into the room a little while later.

"I've never stayed here overnight," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "I just figured you liked my place better."

He chuckled. It made me grin.

"I'm sorry for how I treated you earlier," I mumbled as he stood next to his dresser, probably finding empty drawers for me to use. "I don't actually think that you're obsessed with your ego. I should never have said. I shouldn't have snapped at you at all. You have been nothing but good to me. I am so, so sorry."

He turned back to look at me. There was still a gentle grin on his face. I wish he would just be mad at me once. Not always so understanding. I never thought that I deserved it.

"I forgive you," he said. A bit of weight rolled off my shoulders. Thank God.

"And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. About the threats."

"I'm not upset with you over that," he shook his head, sitting next to me. "I wish you had told me, yes, but it's not your fault."

I reached over and grabbed his hand. "Thank you."

He kissed the side of my head. "Need anything? I could order something."

"Sleep," I chuckled. "I need sleep. I've been running off caffeine and very little sleep through this whole case."

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back."

I nodded at him as he stood up.

I was curled up under the covers by the time Rafael joined me He chuckled at the sight of me almost hiding under the blanket.

"You tricked me," I muttered as I wrapped my arms around his torso. "This bed is much nicer than mine. You should've told me."

"My apologies," he replied, pulling me closer to him.

I chuckled and relaxed. He leaned over and kissed my forehead.

"It's going to be alright," he mumbled against my skin. "We're gonna keep you safe. The team is gonna keep you safe."

"I know," I said. "I trust you. And them, but mainly you."

"I love you."

"I love you too," I grinned at him.

I fell asleep soon after that, actually feeling safe for the first time in days.

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Prosecutorial Misconduct: Rafael Barba never intended to fall for Melanie Dodds, but now that he had... He was slowly beginning to uncover that there may be far more to the rough and tumble Detective than meets the eye ongoing

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Appearances - Yandere!Rafael Barba x reader

summary: Rafael loses his cool after finding you at a club and takes you home to punish you

warnings: sexual assault, verbal abuse, physical abuse, choking, non-con

The music throbbed through the speakers in the dark club, echoing loudly through your eardrums. It was a Top 40 song, but that didn’t stop you from trying to pull your bestie onto the dance floor with you.

“Thanks for bringing me here, (y/n). I probably wouldn’t have left my apartment if you hadn’t insisted on a night on the town,” she laughed as you stepped onto the strobe-lit floor together.

“You deserve to have fun, maybe even find someone new to dance on,” you suggested, nudging her.

After a long and painful breakup, you wanted to remind your best friend that she could have fun once in a while. You hadn’t been out in a while either, at least not since moving in with your boyfriend, and you were due for a change of scenery.

A server came around and offered you both shots from a platter. You downed them together and kept dancing, having lost track of your drink count for the night.

All of a sudden, the music switched to a Ke$ha song. You and your bestie shrieked with delight and began busting moves left and right.

While you were belting out the lyrics together, a tall guy in a starched white shirt and black dress pants came up behind you. He snaked his hands around your waist and drove his hips into your ass. You entertained him for a minute, but then he pushed your dress up and tried to pull down your underwear. You pushed the man away and sidled up to your friend.

"Get off me, you creep!" you yelled as he slipped through the crowd, laughing with one of his buddies.

"That was so weird," your friend remarked as you pulled your dress back down over your thighs.

"What a douchebag. I should probably tell the bouncer to keep an eye out for him," you sighed, your friend following you as you wandered towards the entrance.

"So, is Rafael okay with all this?" she asked hesitantly, sympathetic tone evident in her voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Y'know, going out, drinking, dancing, clubbing. I thought he had an aversion to this side of the city and your involvement with it."

"He is, but I really missed going out with you, like the old days! I can't help it. I'm still in my twenties, I want to have fun when I can and make memories like this with you," you grinned, nudging her shoulder.

"That's the spirit! If it makes you happy, Rafael can deal with it. Period," she grinned.

The two of you explained what had happened to one of the bouncers, who said he would warn management and keep an eye out for the guy.

After that, you both decided to leave and hit another club.

"There's a club right down the street that my co-workers were raving about, it's called Marquee," your friend offered, and you agreed.

Once the two of you were in, you ordered some drinks at the bar. It was swanky and expensive-looking, but the drink prices weren't too bad for Manhattan.

"So, what was your cover story for tonight?" your friend asked cheekily.

"What?"

"Like, what lie did you tell Rafael?"

"Oh! I told him about your breakup, so he thinks we're just getting one drink at a bar. I was supposed to be home an hour ago, but I texted him that you were distraught and needed more emotional support," you laughed.

"And what bar did you tell him? You think he'll come looking for you?"

"I told him we were going to Porchlight, which he hates. I don't think he'll come looking. And my phone just died, so we should probably not stay out for too much longer," you rationalized.

Sure, you hoped Rafael would trust you enough to not come looking for you, but the truth was that he was always paranoid about something happening to you. Most of the victims he dealt with were around your age, pretty and young. He didn't like the idea of you going out without him.

—

Half an hour later, you and your bestie had about four more drinks and were back on the dance floor, dancing with some nice guys around your age that you'd just met. You were just having fun, not even dancing particularly scandalously.

Everything changed when you felt someone yank you away from the group by your arm. You fought against your attacker, pushing and kicking, until he dragged you to the edge of the dance floor. In the low neon lights, you could see it now. It was your boyfriend, Rafael Barba, looking angrier than you'd ever seen him before.

"What the hell, Raf?!" you screamed, yanking your arm away from him.

"I'm disgusted. You're coming home with me right now," he seethed, grabbing your hand once again and dragging you out of the club. You didn't even have a chance to tell your friend goodbye.

"What the fuck were you doing?" he yelled, pushing you out the front door and onto the city street.

"I-I was just dancing."

"It looked like you were whoring yourself out to those guys. And I can smell cologne on you that isn't mine," Rafael said in a strangely low tone.

"I'm sorry, Rafa. I didn't cheat on you, I swear. There was a guy at the other club who tried to hurt me, and--"

"Another club? Was this your plan all along, to lie to me and go dancing like a slut instead of spending time with your loving boyfriend?" he asked, voice steady. You could see him clench his jaw, and his grip on your hand was getting tighter.

"No, I just wanted to help my friend get over a breakup, you know that," you weakly protested as he dragged you in the direction of your shared apartment.

"Do you know what you look like, stumbling around Manhattan like a drunk slut? Did you ever think about how this would look to the squad if they were out on a call and saw you like this? Or what about one of my colleagues at the DA's office, seeing their esteemed co-worker's whore of a wife stumbling around the streets looking like a working girl?" He snapped angrily.

You could tell how mad he was because he refused to look at you. You stayed silent and cast your eyes down at the sidewalk. You wiped your eyes as you could tell you were getting closer to your building.

"Of course, because you didn't think, you never think! You look terrible, (y/n). Your dress is too short, too tight, ripped, stained, your makeup is smeared, your hair is trashed and you smell horrible. And you know what? I'm going to punish you," he stated, turning to you. His green eyes darkened as they raked over your body, thinking of everything he would do to you once he got you home.

You sniffled, trying to brush your hair down with your fingers. Rafael had never been this mean to you before, never made you feel like this.

—

You were exhausted when Rafael pushed you into the apartment. He slammed you against the door and locked it before grabbing you by the neck.

You gasped, struggling to breathe as Rafael tightened his grip. His gaze was wild, like an animal's. He was looking at you like prey.

"C-can't we just do this later? I'm tired," you rasped as Rafael let go of you.

"No, we won't. You need to be punished, I have to make sure you aren't going to pull this shit again. And you aren't, right cariño?"

"No, Rafa, I won't."

"Get in the bedroom and get undressed. And clean up your fucking face," he spat, tilting his jaw up at you.

Rafael took his time pouring his whiskey. He wanted to think about how to punish you most effectively, how to make sure you would never pull this kind of shit again. You were a stuck-up, entitled bitch who took advantage of him and his generosity. But not anymore.

When he entered the room, you were fully naked on top of the king-sized bed.

"Please, Rafa, I don't want to do this right now," you whined, pouting at him.

"Sit up," he instructed. Once you did, he slapped you clear across your face. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes and you could feel a red welt already blooming on your cheek.

He stripped out of his polo and dress pants quickly. It was the outfit he had thrown on quickly to retrieve you, once he saw your signal go dead at the club.

You were crying now, unable to hold back your fear and the wave of emotion that had consumed you. You watched your boyfriend swallow the rest of his whiskey and take a deep breath. His hungry eyes glanced over you once again.

He climbed over to you and clamped his hand over your mouth. Your eyes grew wide as you wondered what he planned on doing to you.

Then, unexpectedly, he removed his hand.

"Actually, I want to hear you cry for help. I like knowing no one is coming to help you."

He climbed on top of you and pressed his naked body to yours. Then, he jammed his tongue into your mouth. You were overwhelmed by the taste of whiskey on his lips so you breathed through your nose.

You reached your hands up and wrapped your arms over his broad shoulders in an attempt to try and ground yourself.

Rafael shoved his tongue deeper down your throat, causing you to gag. You sniffled as cold tears ran down your face and dripped to the sides and down your ears.

All of a sudden, Rafael's hand traced up your side and came to rest on your throat. He squeezed, ignoring your gasps for help and fending off your attempts to move him.

"Just give into the darkness," he hissed. You closed your eyes, silently begging for your suffering to end.

Your #1 Fan - Yandere!Sonny Carisi x reader

summary: You're Sonny's favorite author, but his adoration spirals out of control when you feel like you're being stalked.

warnings: rape mention, stalking

This morning, your sister called you and tearfully explained that she was at the hospital getting a rape kit done. You sped to the hospital, but your sister was told that her rapist used a condom. There wasn’t much the hospital could do.

You dragged your sister to Manhattan’s SVU, figuring they’d be able to help in some way.

When you and your sister exited the elevator, a blonde woman approached the two of you.

“I’m not sure who we’re supposed to talk to, but my sister was raped and I know who did it,” you explained.

You were almost completely sure that your rival, the novelist Mark Cain, was to blame. He’d been battling with you for the #1 New York Times Bestseller spot for two months. He wanted to get back at you by hitting you where you were most vulnerable: your sister.

“Alright, come with me and I’ll take your statement,” the blonde woman said to your sister, who nodded nervously.

“I’ll be right here,” you promised her.

“Oh my god, (y/n) (y/l/n)? I-I’m a huge fan! Detective Dominick Carisi Junior, but you can call me Sonny,” a tall man with gelled hair said, coming up to you and extending his hand.

“Uh, thanks,” you smiled, shaking his hand.

“I-I absolutely loved Outskirts, your prose is so illuminating. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Actually, I’m just here for my sister. She was raped last night in her apartment. It was dark, but I know it has to be Mark Cain, the novelist, he threatened me twice in the past few weeks,” you explained.

“Here, how ‘bout you follow me and I can take your statement?” he asked, and you nodded. You would do anything you could to help your sister and find her rapist.

—

A few weeks later, your sister’s case was wrapped up with the help of Sonny and the SVU. Trace amounts of Mark Cain’s DNA had been found under your sister’s fingernails and his fingerprints were scattered around her apartment.

You had exchanged numbers with Sonny, the detective who was a fan of yours. It started out as exchanging information about your sister’s case, but gradually turned into Sonny asking you out for drinks.

—

“I really gotta ask, what was your inspiration for Down in Uptown? The plot was so cleverly crafted, how’d you come up with it?” Sonny asked, sipping on his whiskey.

“I was at the Uptown Bar when it was robbed a few years back, so—“ you began, but Sonny interrupted.

“Wait wait wait, you’re tellin’ me the robbery in the book actually happened?”

“It was inspired by it for sure, I was just curious about the story behind the robbery. I wanted to create some sort of story surrounding the situation.”

“You’re a genius, (y/n), really. I mean, damn!”

“Thank you, Sonny. It’s getting late though, I have a meeting with my publisher in the morning. I’ll see you around,” you said, standing up and hugging Sonny goodbye.

Sonny was worried about you, now that he knew you’d been present for a robbery. You could’ve died, but instead you wrote a book about it? He wanted to protect you from harm, forever.

—

A week went by since your date with Sonny, and you heard a knock on your apartment door.

“Hello?” you called out.

You weren’t expecting anyone, and anyone who came up had to be buzzed into the building.

You opened the door to see a young delivery man holding a giant bouquet and setting down a basket filled with chocolates and snacks.

“What is this? Who sent this?” you all but growled at the teenager.

“It’s from a-a Mr. Carisi, ma’am. There’s a c-card,” he winced, handing you the card. Your name was written across the envelope in cursive.

“Thanks,” you snapped, grabbing the basket and flowers and dragging them into your apartment. You shut the door behind you and set everything on your kitchen table.

You were a bit creeped out. You had never given Carisi your address. He didn’t even know your neighborhood or building name. The only thing you told him was that you lived in Manhattan.

You grabbed the card from your table and opened the envelope.

“To my love (y/n), I look forward to the next time we can meet. From your love, Sonny,” you read aloud.

You had gone on one date (which was barely a date) with this man. He was clearly obsessed with you.

You sighed, cutting the stems of the flowers and putting them in a vase. You’d had stalkers before, but never NYPD Detectives. It scared you, to say the least. You had no idea how far this man’s power stretched. How could you even report it? New York’s Finest always protected their own.

The basket must’ve been worth hundreds of dollars. You couldn’t believe it. There was a stuffed bear, crackers, cheese dips, various wine bottles, chocolates, and more things you discovered as you unearthed them.

You alerted the building not to let him in, but there wasn’t much else you could do. You were scared to call or text him.

—

Another week passed and you ignored all twenty of Sonny’s calls. You were planning on calling Olivia Benson to tell her to keep her detectives in line as soon as you could.

You left your building and headed down the sidewalk towards your local coffee shop. Your earbuds were in, so you weren’t expecting it when someone grabbed your arm and yanked you backwards.

Goddamn it, it was Sonny. You stumbled back and grabbed your earbuds, shoving them in your pocket.

“Where the hell have you been? Why haven’t you returned my calls?” he demanded.

“I don’t owe you anything, Sonny. I barely know you! Please leave me alone,” you said, walking away.

“Stop!” Sonny yelled, grabbing your arm again before you could get very far.

“How did you even get my address?” you asked, wincing.

“You like that basket and the flowers? NYPD database has everyone’s addresses,” he grinned, beaming with pride.

“I never want you to contact me again,” you growled.

“Good luck with that, doll. You can’t get away from me. You never will,” Sonny laughed, finally letting go of your arm.

You ran away, towards the coffee shop so you could call Olivia Benson and tell her to get her creepy detective to back off.

Helpless - Yandere!Mike Dodds x reader

summary: Mike shows you the new life he’s planned for you and you’re too afraid to argue.

warnings: yandere behavior, reader is held captive-ish, talk of children, manipulation

You’d just heard Mike’s knock on your door, so you looked in the mirror one final time before grabbing your purse and running to open the door.

“Hey, baby,” Mike said, leaning down to kiss you, “you look beautiful!”

“Thank you,” you grinned as he handed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers wrapped in paper.

Before you had a chance to put the flowers in a vase, Mike gently tugged on your arm and pulled you outside.

You shut and locked your door hesitantly, clutching the flowers closer to your body.

Mike, ever the gentleman, opened and shut his car door for you. The warm leather engulfed you as you held the flowers and your purse.

Once you sat down, Mike put his large hand on your thigh protectively. He was large, muscular and powerful. He was smarter than you and you always trusted him to point out your mistakes. You would be nothing without him, he always reminded you.

All of a sudden, you noticed Mike was driving down a dark road, the opposite way of the restaurant he had invited you to.

“W-where are we going?” you asked, looking around cautiously.

“I’m bringing you to our new home, babe! We can finally build our family and you can be the sweet little housewife you’ve always wanted to be,” he grinned, the grip on your thigh getting tighter.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was the one who wanted you to be a housewife, not you. But if Mike thought it was best, you would do it.

You could tell you were now almost outside of the city as Mike parked and dragged you out of the car.

“C’mon babe, I wanna show you,” he grinned, grabbing your arm tightly.

As you entered the doorway, you felt a sadness wash over you. The house was beautiful, but it felt more like what Mike wanted, not you.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, um, I love it,” you said, quietly.

“Let me show you the kid’s rooms!”

As your boyfriend showed you through the house, you felt a growing sense of dread. There were four rooms designated for kids, and one of them was already decorated as a nursery. You weren’t even sure if you could have kids.

“I’m thinking Michael Dodds Junior for a son,” Mike grinned, putting a hand on your stomach.

You felt flustered and could only give him a small smile.

“My father is going to be so proud of me,” he said, looking around at the house, “a beautiful wife, four children, a nice house. It’s everything he wanted for me.”

You stayed quiet, allowing Mike to speak. He explained that if you left the house without him, an alert would immediately be sent to his phone and the local precinct would be called. You were terrified, but even more terrified of what would happen if you talked back.

So you just played the part of the dutiful wife, nodding and smiling at your new husband.

JOE VELASCO / SVU

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