Rafeal Barba One Shots

Temptation

The excitement was buzzing inside you as you left the precinct after the interview with Sergeant Benson. She had been warm, professional, and supportive, and you had nailed every answer. By the end of it, she smiled at you with that signature confidence she carried and said, "You start Monday. I'm sure you'll fit right in. You'll meet the rest of the team then."

You thanked her and walked out, a grin spreading across your face. This was the job you'd been dreaming of—a detective at SVU. You couldn't wait to start, but first, there was a celebration in order.

That night, you went out with your girlfriends to a bar that had always been your go-to spot for unwinding. The energy was high, the music was loud, and the drinks kept coming. Laughter filled the space as you celebrated your new job. You were glowing with happiness when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed an intriguing man sitting alone at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey.

Something about his air—calm, mysterious, and quietly self-assured—drew you in. He was undeniably handsome, with sharp features, dark hair, and an aura of mystery that you couldn't resist. After some encouragement from your friends, you walked over to him.

"Drinking alone on a night like this?" you teased, sliding onto the stool beside him. "You must be brooding about something deep."

He glanced up, a spark of amusement in his eyes as he raised his glass. "Maybe I'm just avoiding celebrating something too soon."

His sarcasm made you laugh, a genuine sound that you couldn't suppress, and before long, the two of you were engrossed in a playful back-and-forth, like two people who had known each other far longer than a few minutes. Every retort you threw at him was met with a smirk or a witty reply, and every time he raised his glass, there was a teasing glint in his eyes.

"So, what's a woman like you celebrating tonight?" he asked, his tone casual, but the way he looked at you felt anything but.

You shrugged, but your smile was impossible to hide. "Got a new job. Something I've been wanting for a while."

"Something big?" His brow arched as he tilted his head, genuinely curious.

You leaned in slightly, mirroring his posture. "Let's just say it's a step up from where I was. Big enough to be excited, small enough not to have jinxed it by celebrating too soon."

He grinned at that. "Ah, so you're cautious. Calculated."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Only when it comes to work."

"I see," he replied smoothly, leaning in a little more, his voice lowering just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "And what about when it's not work?"

You hesitated, feeling a rush of warmth rise to your cheeks. This was dangerous territory, but you couldn't help but be drawn to the way he spoke, the subtle hints in his words that there was something simmering just beneath the surface. The attraction between you was undeniable, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself lean into it, if only a little.

"I suppose I can be a little more... spontaneous," you said softly, your heart racing.

He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "Spontaneous, huh? How spontaneous?"

You swallowed, trying to keep your cool, but the way he looked at you made it hard to think straight. "Depends on the situation, I guess."

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence between you charged with unspoken words. The bar, the music, the noise—it all seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of electric tension. His eyes flicked down to your lips, and when he looked back up, his expression had shifted, more serious, more intense.