#might delete in the morning idk this is definitely a late night thought :/

[homophyte]

i know this website is in like a mood lately abt looking back fondly and joking about slightly outmoded fandom terms stolen wholesale from asian fandom like yuri (arguably the most innocent party here) n whatever but i will rlly never be cool with the way it transparently fetishized mlm and accordingly i frankly do not ever see myself being at all cool with the word fujoshi . genuinely ironically or otherwise jokingly. honestly it is sort of absurd that there’s some kind of fucking amnesia happening here about the absolutely disgusting ways queer men were and still are portrayed ??? i know it’s en vogue to say many ppl who called themselves fujoshis became trans gay guys but the idea that fact alone like absolves the abhorrent behavior of droves of people is absurd . like trans women are literally leagues ahead on this in talking about how say futanari shit can be important to a lot of ppl in their transitions and yet also is like fundamentally exploitative of transfem bodies and resting on (trans)misogynistic beliefs and ideas. can we really not say yeah yaoi as a genre is and always was fetishizing and is both constituted by and reinforces really shitty ideas about how mens sexualities work (often the same ones which create rape culture) . is that really beyond us for real. to say that a thing we might enjoy causes harm. why does it always have to be that the enjoyment erases the harm.

[b3ach-bunn7]

CHOCOLATE BARS AND SLIDES pt 2

It’s late after you and Sero finish work, so you invite him back to your place

No quirk au, Workplace au, friends to lovers

a few people requested a part two and for some reason I struggled so bad to write it… idk if this is god but plz enjoy!

—————————————————————————

You wake up in a car that’s definitely not yours.

You guess you’ve been kidnapped. If having to stay up all night at your office wasn’t annoying enough, now this? There’s a cat shaped air freshener and dice tied to the rear view mirror, and the car itself is much too fancy for anything you’d drive. There’s takeout boxes on the seat in the back and a bag you recognise as your own by your feet.

So you were kidnapped and robbed? Oh, it was not your day.

Or night, you realise, as you look out the window and see that it’s pitch black. The streets of your town are pretty empty, the streetlights not even on and you glance at the dashboard and see that it’s two in the morning. You think about screaming, but you need to see what you’re dealing with. Then you turn to your left and your kidnapper is Sero, of all people. One hand hangs out the open window and the other is on the steering wheel, finger tapping along to whatever random song is playing on the radio. You think this might be the most attractive you’ve ever seen him, wind rustling strands of his hair across his face. You can only imagine how awful you look. You’re sure you wiped drool off the side of your mouth a second ago. Sero must sense the movement because he glances at you, a small smile gracing his lips. You’re too sleepy to have any shame so you keep staring and don’t notice the reddening of the tips of his ears.

“Good morning. Or good night, I guess.” He laughs.

“I thought we were working, what happened?” You speak through a yawn.

Sero bites his lip. He debates something in his head before he relents.

“Look, I’m really sorry, but you wouldn’t wake up and we’d finished working and I knew we had to leave so I had to carry you out the place, and even then you didn’t wake up and so I thought you were like, dead or something. But you were just asleep. And I was going to wake you up when we got to yours but you sorta woke up alone, right now. Which is weird, because I literally carried you down a flight of stairs and you were knocked out.” The words come out rambled and all at once with Sero’s eyes trained on the road.

You grin at the panic on his face. “It’s okay, Sero. Don’t need to look so horrified. I don’t mind.”

He rolls his eyes as you laugh at him. You’re not mad he carried you out. If anything you’re more annoyed you weren’t awake to enjoy it.

“Well I can do it again if you’d like.”

Oh, you did not mean to say that out loud. You laugh nervously and sit up straighter.

“Never mind that. Wait, so where are you headed?”

“Your place, no?” Sero says, “I was going to drop you off, remember?”

You nod. “Oh, right. But. It’s really late, and you live a bit far so. You can sleep over if you want. At mine.”

The car is silent apart from the radio singing old 80s hits. You swallow roughly. It seems the lack of sleep has caused your filter to disappear and you consider the cons of jumping out the car to avoid the embarrassment of your suggestion..

“I mean, you don’t have to-“

“Sure. I’ll sleep over. If you’re sure you don’t mind.” He cuts you off.

“Of course! I mean it’s the least I can do, after you ditched all your friends to help me cause I deleted all my slides.”

He snorts. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

You shake your head, leaning back on the car seat. The car smells like Sero. “Don’t even. I’m still recovering. I’m never using Google slides again.”

Sero laughs and it makes you smile. He’s so cute. And that hoodie looks really good on him. And you should really stop staring at him because you’re slightly delirious and apparently that means you have loose lips, and you’re sure you’ll say something stupid again.

Sero pulls into your parking lot soon enough. He rests his arm on the back of your chair as he reverses into a parking spot and you think you could die happy right there.

You make him wait outside your door as you run around your apartment and clean up. It’s still sort of a mess but it’s clean enough for you to let him in. It’s not like he hasn’t seen it all before, but still. You need to keep some semblance of dignity after he saw you drooling in your sleep.

“Okay, so you can take my bed, and I’ll take the couch.” You say.

Sero shakes his head. “No, it’s your bed, babe, I’ll take the couch, I don’t mind.”

“No, you’re my guest. I can’t let you sleep on the couch.”

“Well I can’t let you sleep on the couch.”

“We can sleep together.”

You curse yourself the minute the words leave your mouth. Sero grins as your cheeks flush red, raising one eyebrow.

“Can we really?”

“Shut up.” You turn away so he can’t see your face burning up as you walk into your kitchen.

“Aw, don’t be shy. Is that why you invited me over?” He drawls, voice dropping as he teases you.

“Sero, I’ll make you sleep on the floor!” You splutter, busying yourself with getting two glasses of water.

“Don’t worry, I’m only joking.” Sero sits down on the couch, yawning loudly.

“I can’t believe we have to be back at work in like, four hours.”

You groan at his words, walking out the kitchen with the glasses. You pass one to him and he nods his thanks. “I know. And I have to present those slides too.”

“You’ll be fine, babe, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m too tired to worry right now.” You mumble.

Sero huffs a laugh. He drinks from the glass, and you watch as a drop of water slides down his chin, down his neck to the surprisingly defined lines of his collarbones. You wonder if you would’ve felt them when he picked you up before.

“I look that good drinking water?”

Your eyes snap up to his where they are trained on you. “Mhm. I can’t get enough.”

It’s meant to be a joke. But the two of you sort of just stare at each other for a moment, his fingers collecting condensation from the glass, and it doesn’t feel very funny.

“Well. I’ll go get you something to sleep in. Something comfier.” You shoot up out your seat and rush into your room.

You don’t know what’s the matter with you. Of course, a part of you thinks Sero might like you back. You’re sure he’s been flirting with you for the past few weeks. But you’re too scared to ever bring it up, because the chance that he rejects you is too scary for you to even try. You guys were such good friends that you know you’ll never risk losing that.

You dig around in your drawers for some clothes. You find the bag of old boyfriend stuff you keep in the depths of your closet and pull out a pair of sweats and a shirt. You walk back into the living room and Sero is deep in thought on the couch, eyes trained on the floor.

“You alright there?” You ask, tilting your head.

He looks up at you. There’s a weird sort of look on his face, one of determination. He gets up and shoots you a smile.

“All good. Thanks for the clothes.”

In one swift motion he pulls off his hoodie and grabs the shirt out of your hands. Your mouth gapes. Your fantasising was right, because Sero is ripped. Lean muscles and what you think is a six pack. God have mercy.

“I gotta put this shirt on but you can take a picture if you wanna stare any longer.” Sero teases.

“Shut up.” You shove the sweats in his arms.

You quickly wash up in the toilet and go get in bed. While Sero gets ready with the spare toothbrush in your sink, you quickly send a message to your friends telling them what’s happening. They know about you ever-growing crush on him and even though you know they’re all asleep, you shoot them a message with way too many emojis and way too much excitement. Sero walks in soon after and pauses at the light switch.

“You want me to turn it off?”

“Yes, but-“ You’re cut off as he suddenly turns it off.

You curse, scrambling around your bed in the dark for your phone. You turn your flashlight on and point it at his face.

“I was going to say wait until my light is on!”

Sero laughs. “Are you serious?”

“Yes I am serious. It’s too dark in here.” You reach across your bedside table and turn on your lamp. It’s small and inoffensive enough that you can sleep with it on. You tell Sero as much and he laughs at you again.

“Aw, are you scared of the dark?” He pouts and you throw a pillow at him.

“Leave me alone. I watched the conjuring yesterday and I’m freaked out.” .

Sero is still sort of just standing in your doorway. He almost looks too frightened to make direct eye contact with your bed and you grin.

“It’s okay. I don’t bite.” You pat the side of the bed you’ve left for him.

“Shame.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut it and come sleep. I’m tired.”

You shuffle under your duvet, and sigh happily. Sero gingerly climbs in next to you and you huff, dragging him onto it properly. “Come on, this is fun! Like a sleepover!”

“What do girls even do at sleepovers?”

“We kiss all night and talk about boys.” You fan a hand in front of your face and he snorts.

The two of you are now laying down and the room delves into silence. You can just about make out his face with the little light from your lamp, and it bathes him in a warm glow you think makes him look so soft. He’s looking straight up at your ceiling and you reach out and brush a strand of hair off his forehead. His eyes meet yours, and you smile slightly.

“Sorry. It was in your eyes.” The hair has definitely moved out of his vision but you wrap it around your finger.

“I love your hair, you know. When you tie it up in a little bun.”

“Thanks.” His voice comes out slightly hoarse, and you let the strand fall from your grasp.

You dig under the covers and grab your phone. “You mind if I’m on my phone for a bit? I need my phone time before I sleep.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Originally, you’re laying on your back, phone resting on your chest, Sero still looking up at your ceiling. But then Sero mumbles that he can’t sleep either, and he turns to face you, eyes also trained on your phone. And somehow, in the minutes that pass with you scrolling through your Tik Tok, your head is resting on Sero’s shoulder and your hand holds your phone up on his chest. His head rests on top of yours as the two of you lull yourself to sleep with the random things that come up on your page.

But then your phone vibrates, and a notification pops up at the top of the screen. It’s weird enough that anyone is up this late, but then you read who it’s from and what it says and then you feel bile rise up your throat.

Because it’s your friend Miriko, who would of course be up at three in the morning, who also has the most inappropriate tongue out of anyone you’ve ever met. The first notification is tame enough.

“FUCKING FINALLY”

You’re sure Sero reads it but he doesn’t say anything. You guess there isn’t that much he can say, it’s inconspicuous enough.

“HAS ANYTHING HAPPENED DID HE ASK U OUT FINALLYYYYY???”

That one’s more suspicious. But again, it’s notifications from a group chat, so you hope your lack of reaction is making it seem like she’s not replying to you. You slide the notification away.

“You don’t wanna answer?” He asks and you shake your head.

“Nah, she can wait till morning. It’s too late to socialise.”

And then, the last message comes through.

“Are you not answering because manbun is dicking you down rn…”

You sit up suddenly, pulling your phone out of his line of sight. You curse under your breath quickly clicking on do not disturb. You turn to Sero to try play it off but he’s sat himself up too, and he’s looking at you with a weird look of anticipation. The two of you are a hair away from being too close, and your eyes flit around his face, soft from sleep but so focused on you.

“Manbun? Is that supposed to be me?”

Your eyes dart from the bun he’d tied into his hair literally minutes ago in front of your eyes.

“No.” You try to lie half-heartedly but he’s not stupid.

“Yes. It is, isn’t it?” Your silence is answer enough for him.

“So. When your friend said finally and if I asked you out, you- You want me to ask you out?” He breathes, and he says it like more of a statement then a question.

“I- You weren’t meant to see those messages.”

Sero looks down. You curse Miriko a thousand times in your head. You rub your eyes, brain scrambling to find a way out of this. His silence is answer enough for you, and you guess all those times you thought he might like you was just Sero being Sero.

“Look, I don’t-“

Sero’s hand on your face distracts you, and if that wasn’t enough, the firm press of his lips on yours is enough to shut you up. Your eyes flutter shut and you lean in closer, hand reaching up to clutch at the shirt of an ex you couldn’t name if your life depended on it. You think this might be a dream, but then Sero’s hand curls around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, and you make a noise in the back of your throat. It seems to wake Sero up because he pulls back suddenly.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. Before I kissed you, I just- ” He breathes heavily. “I thought. I’ve been waiting-“

“It’s okay. It’s fine. You are manbun. I like you too.” You nod frantically, hands still on him.

“Okay. That’s good.” He nods too.

The two of you sit for a minute.

Sero breaks the silence. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Please.”

He descends onto you quickly, pushing you back onto your bed. His arm rests next to your head as he kisses you, tongue delving into your mouth. You whine and he swallows the sound, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. He kisses your chin, down your neck, licking at your pulse. You moan as he sucks a mark into your neck and he sighs.

“Sound so beautiful, baby.” He mumbles, hands travelling up under your shirt and skimming the soft skin of your stomach.

You let your own hands explore him, fingers dancing over the lean muscle you’ve been itching to properly look at since you knew they existed. Sero sighs as you trail them up his stomach, across his chest. You reach up and place another kiss on his lips, but he pulls back slightly.

“Wait, wait.” He whispers between the kisses you pepper on his lips between each word.

“What could you possibly need to talk about right now?” You grumble, falling back down on the bed.

He sits up, practically straddling your waist. His lips are swollen and kissed, his hair dishevelled where you’ve no doubt ran your hands through it. It’s taking every ounce of self control not to pull him back down on top of you.

“I just- I feel like I should do this properly. Take you out. Wine and dine you, you know?” The little worry that furrows his brows makes something in your heart ache.

You pat his arm and he takes the hint to slide off your lap. He crosses his legs, running a hand through his hair to get it out his face. His shirt is lopsided and showing half his right shoulder and you fix it for him, hands lingering on him slightly.

“If you wanna do this properly we can. Though I’m perfectly happy to fuck you right now.”

Sero swallows heavily, shutting his eyes. “Fuck me, you’re not making this easy.”

“Well, I am offering.” He rolls his eyes as you giggle.

“Okay then. Tomorrow. After your presentation and after work we’ll go out to dinner. I’ll take you out, that sound good?”

You nod happily. “Sounds perfect.”

“Perfect.”

Sero leans over and presses one more kiss to your lips. Before he pulls away you drag him back, just for a second more.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Please not before our date.”

“No, I’d never. Got to show you what would’ve happened tonight if we didn’t stop so soon.”

[kdelarenta]

3:00 am

pairing: sebastian wynric x f!speaker

rating: umm kind of angst kind of ?? idk

notes: had to delete the previous version because tumblr is acting up, sebastian belongs to @speakergame

tagged: @pearlsandsteel , @aplethoraoffictionalboys

She should be sleeping,she knows this.This isn't the first shitty motel she's had to stay in and not the first time a lovely neighbour decided to have some 'fun' (very loud fun) at three in the morning.

Good for them - at least they're getting some.

She just wishes it wasn't at three in the fucking morning,she hasn't been sleeping well as it is and she has to drive tomorrow. Sebastian did offer to take over though - of course he did. She can't explain it really,she still wants to drive. Josephine wasn't  a person who could give someone else the wheel or a person who could just sit in the back seat (and relax). If she wasn't on a mission, she was training. If she wasn't driving,she was navigating. If she had free time,she was watching Emily - making sure she's okay. She doesn't think she can stop. Still it doesn't matter,she doesn't think.(about any of it really,she jumps and kicks and runs and saves and punches and then punches some more when she can't. can't save - can't save everyone).

Yeah...she's not going to sleep any time soon. Kicking the sheets off does nothing to keep off the heat that's been suffocating her since she layed down.

Getting a drink from that wending machine she saw in the hallway doesn't seem like a bad idea at all.

Catching sight of herself in the mirror she can see that she looks like hell,it's like the constant unease she's been feeling had managed to bleed out all over her face. She was wearing her pajamas- black shorts and an oversized grey t-shirt with a questionable quote ( god she would never ever buy it on her own but Em saw it and thought it looked cute and gave her that goofy smile and of course she had to buy it). Smiling despite herself she decides to go out anyway. It's three in the morning,no one's going to see her .

The hallway is quiet besides the constant moans and groans and shouts of someone's name - Paul. Well damn Paul. She's fully grinning now,she can't even bring herself to be mad. Taking a few turns she makes her way to the wending machine. Choosing from all the drinks is easy once she spots her favorite,she puts in the money,selects the drink and waits. The drink starts to move and then stops midway. Sighing,she presses the number again but the can is still stuck. She presses again - nothing.

,,Oh come on" she groans to no one in particular and smacks the machine. Nothing - the can just stays the same,mocking her.

Yeah,fuck this.

She's already halfway through the debate of whether she should continue kicking the machine or just going back to bed when she notices she's not alone. Sebastian is standing by the wall behind her. She doesn't know how long he'd been standing there but the small amused smile on his face gives away that he definitely saw everything. Great.

,,What?"

The accusatory tone and the wild hand gestures sure aren't helping her look any less embarrassed.

,,I want a Cola"

The tone of her voice brings out a low chuckle that warms her from the inside out. Just her luck that he's the one who's awake right now. It's not the first time that fate,karma or whoever has tried to shove promises of love and happiness in her face. Putting them just at the right place at the right time,taunting her with the things she wants but can't afford to have. This time feels different though,like they're more tightly intertwined instead of loosely vowen together. It'd be cruel really, if she wasn't enjoying it so much.

He makes his way over to her,stopping in front of the machine to examine it closely. That smile is still there as he pulls out a few bills and puts them in the machine. She watches him put in the same numbers and low and behold,both cans of soda fall down without a hitch. She's way more impressed than she should be but she does a good job of hiding it behind a carefully neutraled face and a small 'thank you'. He looks pleased with himself as she slowly sips the soda - the cool drink does nothing for her because now she's warm for a completely different reason. Neither of them talk as the moment continues interrupted only by the noise that starts up again and can somehow still be heard from over there.

,,Something keeping you up?"

His mocking tone is rewarded by a sharp glare that only seems to amuse him more.

,,Ha ha,very funny" her words are dry but she's still smiling. Their amused glance soon turns into one of their staring contests. Neither of them wants to back down and she wants to think that's it's just because they're both incredibly stubborn and not because they want to keep looking at each other's eyes. The thought brings a different sort of unease - every glance,every comeback,every accidental touch feels wrong,like she should know better (and she should). That's why she looks away first,like she always does.

,,So did you just want to play comedian or is there a reason why you're awake?"

Changing the subject - always a safe bet. The words are a little harsher than she intends them to be but he doesn't seem bothered. She's convinced he simply doesn't care because the possibility that he might actually be onto what she's doing makes the unease spread all the way from her stomach to her throat.

,,I was reading the case files again" There's a pause, she sees him tense for a moment. ,,This one feels..."

,, - tricky."

,, - different."

They turn to look at each other, settling in the feeling of quiet understanding. He gives a small nod.

So it's not just her.

She knows it's risky business . She remembers the early years - the first cases. The high of returning someone safely home , the hope of helping people live another day,the pride of being useful,of making a change. From that high - there's only one way down.

She remembers Em crying,lifeless bodies and the smell of blood under the shower. Waiting for Emily to fall asleep so she can cry too - figure out how she's going to look herself in the mirror tomorrow. It takes years.It takes practice. The words are clear and strict and second nature.

,, We can't save everyone."

,, I know."

She has to stop herself from asking how he knows - it's not her place. It's better like that anyway,she lets Em be positive and fly for a bit but she's right there to ground her again before she falls. Lost in thought she almost misses the way he's been analyzing her. His eyes skim over her face,briefly stopping at her eyes until they stop to her shirt. She expects him to smile or make a comment. Nothing.

,,Let me drive tomorrow."

She almost doesn't let him finish,the words leaving her mind before she registers them.

,,No need,I'll drive."

,,You're exhausted Josephine."

The strict look he gives her makes her want to roll her eyes. She wants to shout in frustration. It's fine. Why are you like this?

,,I'll manage."

This seems to set him off judging by the scowl quickly forming on this face. They're going to start shouting soon aren't they?

,,Why are you always like this? Just let me do this for you."

The words make her inhale sharply. The need to backtrack is almost suffocating, to just run to her room and leave him here or to just shout whatever to make him let it go.But she can already feel the agitation melting from her face. She can't yell, she can't argue, it's three in the morning and she's tired.

She takes a deep breath,wondering how people do this. How it comes so easy,spilling your soul all over the floor and watching it stain shoes. His shoes are clean - they should remain so. She can't see her face but whatever expression she has makes his soften almost too quickly in return. Maybe he's tired too ( tired of her).

,,Um.." is all that escapes her, an unintelligent sound amongst the thousand words that want to claw their way out.

,, I'm not ungrateful."

She hopes she sounds convincing but all she can focus on is the desperation that seeps out. Out of guilt or out of the inability to explain.

,, I know." he breathes out. And she knows he means it,his eyes are too honest and too soft when they find hers. It really is unfair, all of it.

,, I don't have the luxury of trusting people." The words stick like honey as she drags them out. She should probably say more,she should say more - because it's Sebastian and he's here and he understands.

,, Then trust me"

He sounds so resolute,so honest that she can't look him in the eye,she wouldn't dare. Her ears are pulsing,she's going to explode so instead she focuses on his hands. They're warm - she knows this. She wants to make a home there. She wants to put down roots,stay locked in them forever and surrender to the blazing warmth of a thousand suns. She can see it so clearly - the late night conversations,coffee dates,game nights with Emily, warm embraces and soft kisses.

This isn't the first daydream showed down her throat and it won't be the last. After the case he's going to leave. He'll get payed, he'll leave and she'll never see him again and that will be the end of it.

He won't be there when she eventually fails, she won't get the chance to fail him and she's glad.

She shakes her head and heads back to her room.

She's glad.

[silliusssoddus]

The First Names Concept - Night 3

(Roger Taylor x Reader x Vince Neil)

MASTERLIST

A/N: HI HEY IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! there were a lot of exams

and of course a writing-deleting cycle but i've finally gotten it to a point where 'm sorta content w it

anyways i am so sorry for being all ‘ooh symbolism’ in this part i just...really like fleetwood mac...and i’m kind of trying to do the whole ‘show don’t tell’ thing, but i’m terrible at writing and idk when to use what so...yeah...idk

WARNINGS: very small mention of smut, mentions of people taking drugs (not reader), mentions of coke, weed, alcohol, fluffish and angstish at times, car accident and that’s it

WORD COUNT:  5,456 (a lot of stuff happens folks)

SPECIAL THANKS TO: @scarecrowmax for making sure this doesn’t suck, i appreciate it so much!!

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Elektra Records have signed Mötley Crüe their record deal and they celebrate with Queen. You make amends with both boys, which leads you to the position you were in the first place.

(creds: @taylormaydwithlove)

“Ready Freddie?” 

(creds: @getthefckouttahere)

“...grabbed your cheeks, feeling him pull you in for a kiss...”

-

It was perfectly normal for people to like morning, but some could call you insane for waking up at an ungodly hour just to see the sunrise. But more than often it was because you couldn’t sleep and last night was no exception.

You managed to find your way up to the hotel roof at 5am, seeing the first few orange streaks in the purple-ish clouds, and walked on over closer to the railing.

You wrapped Vince’s jacket - the only thing you could find in the darkness and you couldn’t afford to lose more time finding something else - tighter around your body. Yes, LA had a reputation for being warm all the time, but only when the sun was out.

Thoughts of the past few days flowed through your mind as you saw rays of the orange light flood onto the floor.

Vince was right though, maybe you and Roger weren’t ‘destined to be’. Did that mean you were finally over him? All thanks to Vince himself?

Even if that was the case, you were still mad at him. You wanted to go after the woman and apologise, both on his behalf and your own, but after seeing her with Roger, you began to think that she deserved it.

Turning back around to find a seat, you spotted a metal bench and made yourself somewhat comfy. Your head angled itself so that the back of your head rested on the top of the cold railings, trying your best to ignore how blatantly uncomfortable it felt. Besides, your mind whirred in thought too much for you to even realise it.

Maybe it was how deep in thought you were, or maybe it was because you were starting to fall asleep, but you didn’t realise that Roger had come up to the roof. And you certainly didn’t realise how intently he was admiring you and how you were hugging your knees and staring into the landscape.

“Uh, hey.” he finally cleared his throat to say. You didn’t really have the energy to turn around, especially because you could already recognise the voice.

“Hi.” you returned, failing to meet Roger’s eyes when he made his way over to slump down beside you.

“You didn’t come down for breakfast, so Freddie sent me up to say sorry...or something.”

“I’m late for breakfast? Isn’t it 5?”

Roger let out a sharp laugh at that, so you returned with a look of annoyance. It was way too early to deal with this.

“Maybe it was when you got here.”

You looked down at your watch, eyes widening in shock when you saw that 3 hours had passed.

“Oh whatever, I can wait ‘til lunch.” you relaxed, too tired to even care at this point.

“How did you even know I was here?”

“I guess I know you too well,” he shrugged, “or, at least I thought I did.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re here to talk about. Look, I don’t know how it happened, okay?”

“Yes, but- Y/N I told you I missed you and you just-”

He was struggling, you could tell from the way he paused and groaned in exasperation to let his head fall into his hands.

“You know how unfair that is, right? You had 13 years to say something, but you never did. You brought this on yourself, Roger.”

“I- I know, that’s why I don’t know what to...feel...and Fred wanted me to apologise-”

“It’s alright.” you cut in as a desperate way to help him from struggling so hard.

“H-how do you feel about...me?”

“Rog…” you sighed.

Picking his head up out of his hands, he turned to look at you, his face full of worry when he saw that you still hadn’t moved an inch.

“You know I really like you, I always have and I always will…”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“Everything. Brian, our age-”

“It’s Vince, isn’t it?”

You gave him an irritated sigh again, hoping he’d take it as a sign that you wanted to change the subject. It was the first time the two of you had even discussed what your relationship was, but he could not have picked a worse time to do so.

Giving up, he finally realised the position your neck was in and let out a little chuckle, in hopes that it would be enough to change the topic and lighten the mood.

“Is that even comfortable?”

“Not really,” you laughed in return, “but it’s the only thing that’s stopping the throbbing in my head.”

“Course you got a sore head, you’ve drunk two nights in a row. Uh, here.”

You looked up to see him patting his shoulder and decided it would be better to rest there instead. He used one of of his hands to guide your head, before snaking down your shoulders to place itself on your arm. You grinned to yourself when you felt his hand rubbing your shoulder, while the other rested on the bare skin of your leg, lazily and platonically.

“This might...sound weird...but have you ever thought about what you want to do? I mean, you can’t be around us forever.”

“Christ, you sound exactly like Brian.” you giggled.

“Well he’s right, y’know, you have to find something to spend the rest of your life doing.”

“But I literally can’t do anything. Like, I barely even went to school, because half of the time you guys were too tired or too busy writing songs to drive me there. The only time I actually went was when Oliver’s parents drove me.”

“Oh yeah, Oliver. Never liked that chap. He seemed distracted all the time. But he had you as a girlfriend, I don’t blame him.”

Your cheek grew warmer against his shoulder, but as soon as he realised what he had let slip out, he did everything he could to stop you from talking about it further.

“And don’t say that you can’t do anything, ‘cause I’ve heard you play the organ.”

“God, you’re a genius, I could get a job in a church!”

For some reason, he seemed to think that was the funniest joke in the world, seeing that his chest was rising up and down rapidly as he bellowed in laughter. You joined him, equally as amused, letting yourself get distracted from the conversation you had managed to throw away.

“Hey, uh, speaking of the organ. Freddie managed to seal Vince’s band their record deal and they really want us to be there for their first official concert, to say thanks and whatever, and Freddie suggested we do ‘The Chain’, ‘cause that’s your favourite song...and because you’re the only one that can play the organ...”

“Absolutely not.”

You loved ‘The Chain’. You loved Stevie Nicks, her voice, her words and the meaning behind them. But you had always associated that song with Roger.

“What? Why?”

“For starters, I’m still mad at the both of you.” you said, sitting up straight out of his arm.

“But you’re not mad at Brian, Freddie or John. And you haven’t met the rest of the band. You’d absolutely love Tommy, he’s like a child in an adult body. Reminds me a lot of you.”

“Fuck you too.” you snorted.

“Oi, watch your mouth.” he chuckled in return.

A few seconds of silence passed again as you weighed your options for what you could do.

“Alright fine. But only because I’m not letting Brian down. Or Stevie Nicks.”

He laughed again, watching as you got up off the bench and were headed back indoors.

-

“I look ridiculous.” you told Freddie, standing in front of a mirror as he zipped the back of your purple leather dress.

It looked as if a low neck, leather top was sewed onto a flared, leather skirt, while being horribly tight around you. But you weren’t going to lie by saying you didn’t look great.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this self conscious in my 26 years of living.”

“Oh, don’t be so fucking daft, darling, you look fantastic.” he said, smearing some bright red lipstick on your lips. You had done everyone else’s makeup in that hour, but you spent a little while longer on Roger as a result of him mucking around.

“You know you look absolutely gorgeous in anything. And you already have two men drooling over you, imagine what they’d be like after seeing you like this.”

He fluffed up your hair again as a final touch for your outfit and gave you a toothy, reassuring smile.

“On the subject of those two men...can I ask you something?” you said, giggling slightly at his comment.

“Always, love.”

“When we went to see them live, I noticed that Stevie and Lindsey kept looking at each other, like they were singing this song to each other. And it made sense, ‘cause, y’know, that’s what the song’s about - them not wanting to lose their love, because if they did they’d never get it back.”

“And you were wondering who you should sing it to?”

You nodded, letting a sigh out along with it.

Freddie noticed that both bands were just an earshot away and if they concentrated, they would definitely be able to hear your concentration.

“I can’t speak for your mind, darling. Just go with what’s natural.”

“That would be Roger.”

“There you have it.”

“But-”

“Vince is quite alluring, isn’t he?”

“And he told me something really...wise, to be honest. He said if we were meant to date, we would’ve by now.”

“That is a good point. But listen-”

Before he could tell you anything else, the stage manager had knocked on the door and warned you all that there were only 5 minutes left until they were expected onstage.

You and Freddie both made your way back to the boys, not at all surprised to be greeted by wolf whistles and cheers from the younger ones. The fact that their leather jackets had the same ridiculous studs and patterns as your skirt eased your nerves a bit, because you didn’t feel as embarrassed. Besides, you were more than used to trying on Freddie’s and Roger’s clothes in the past. This was nothing compared to that.

“Leather really suits you, Y/N.” Roger commented with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, especially that jacket that I gave you. You gonna wear it?” Vince tried his luck.

You had been giving him the silent treatment from the moment you got here. Sure, you couldn’t help laughing at the greeting he yelled when he saw you (“Ah, the royal fuckers made it!”), but besides that you wanted him to know what he did was bad.

“Actually, I wanted to give it back. It’s not like I was gonna keep it anyways.” you snapped, grabbing the jacket you slung over a chair earlier so that you could shove it on his chest.

Subconsciously, you found your eyes flickering up to meet his and it made you stop your actions altogether. There was a hint of sadness in them, like they were screaming ‘red from crying myself to sleep last night’, but it could’ve easily been ‘red from smoking a blunt’. It wasn’t easy to tell from a guy like Vince.

Maybe you were misjudging him though, because ‘a guy like Vince’ wouldn’t be this affected by his mistake only because of the girl he cheated with.

Girl he cheated with. You felt disgusting. But the feeling couldn’t stay for long, thanks to your own empathy. You blamed Brian for the fact that you care too much.

“Actually, it might look good with the purple on my dress.” you spoke softly, taking your arm back to put the jacket on.

It was a way of forgiving Vince, because if anyone would know how it felt to act out because you had feelings for someone, it was you.

John walked toward you with his blue shirt and the same leather jacket as everyone else. It was hilarious, you felt like a motorcycle gang of rainbows, having  guitarists in red, the singers in yellow, drummers in green, bassists in blue and you in purple. He was the last one to meet them, having to perfect the curly mess of hair on his head so that his furious bopping onstage wouldn’t ruin it.

“Looking good, D!” Tommy said, greeting him with a high five.

“Yeah, yeah, took you long enough.” Roger grumbled, picking up the drum stick he had managed to drop due to attempting one of Tommy’s drumstick twirls. He seemed to give out another huff of annoyance after you, John and Tommy - the only ones that saw what happened - laughed at him.

“Right. Let’s get going, shall we?” Brian said, managing to peel himself away from a very deep conversation about guitars with Mick and turned to lead both bands to the wings of the stage, holding various doors open for them along the way.

There was no doubt that the nervousness was visible in the younger band. John managed to calm Tommy down and talk him out of drinking right before the show, Freddie kept reminding Nikki how proud he was of them, Roger was trying his best not to bite Vince’s head off but gave him useful tips to ease the nerves and Mick and Brian lagged behind, laughing at them.

You noticed Freddie’s jolly expression turn to that of concern when he looked from the stage and back to you. Returning with furrowed eyebrows, which he then answered by nodding over to the stage, you immediately grew more nauseous.

The stage was set perfectly for the situation you were in. The organ was placed so that you faced both the drumkit and the microphones. Great.

You let out a shaky sigh as both John and Freddie gave you a reassuring pat on the back, before turning to give Brian a hug. Despite having made fun of the boys, he tended to be the most nervous one before shows, so you couldn’t even being to think how scared he was to perform with another band.

“What if they hate it?” he said as you pulled out of the hug.

“Bri, you’re asking me if people’ll hate one of England’s greatest bands.” you said with a teasing chuckle.

“Don’t worry, everyone loves it when there’s a change of routine. You of all people should know that, being in a band with Freddie Mercury.”

“Huh, and people call me the smart one. Thanks, sis.” he laughed, before turning around to set up his guitar.

With a scoff of disbelief, you decided to join Freddie and Vince as they were vocalising and warming up their voices, but it shortly turned into a competition of who could reach the highest note.

Of course you won out of the three, using your higher pitched voice as an advantage, but Vince came very near to beating you.

“Ah, it seems like Roger’s got competition.” Freddie had joked, causing everyone onstage (apart from Roger) to erupt into laughter.

That was over as soon as it started, seeing as the stage managers in the wings were frantically waving for silence onstage so that they could flip the spotlights on.

“Please put your hands together for Mötley Crüe!” you heard from the loudspeakers around you. It emitted a tiny roar of excitement, nothing compared to the reaction Queen got.

“And joining them tonight, England’s royal highness, Queen!”

The curtains drew back and you were suddenly greeted by the faces of thousands, screaming and chanting their names like bloody murder. They seemed like restless, tiny blobs of colour, the way you always perceived the audience to be ever since Roger used it to calm you down.

It was right before a gig at the Rainbow back in London. Both Brian and Freddie had insisted that you sang and played with them for one song and you gave in, but you were an easily frightened teenager and didn’t know what to do. Roger spent the day calming you down to the point where you ran onstage with nothing but confidence.

“Ready Freddie?” Roger repeated the words he was so used to before every show.

Freddie gave him and Tommy both a nod to start their drumming before turning to give you a nod to start playing.

And it went really well. Everything was perfect. Your high pitch matched with Freddie’s and Vince’s low tones, the organ sound fit perfectly along with Brian and Mick’s guitars, which you could keep in time with thanks to Tommy and Roger on the drums. Nikki had nothing to do for the time being, so John had kept him occupied by teaching him a few moves that he clumsily followed.

The audience enthusiastically clapped along with the two drummers, on the edge of their seats to see how brilliantly the two sounds were going to mix during the chorus.

But as soon as you thought all of your own fears had melted away, you made a mistake. Not a noticeable one that ruined both bands’ reputation, but one that was sure to ruin your relationship with one of the ‘two men drooling over you’.

You looked up and met Vince’s eyes.

“And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again...”

You wanted to break the eye contact, but the audience was going absolutely ballistic and the giddiness on his face when he took the small action as a way to confirm that you weren’t mad at him anymore gave you double the guilt you already had. You knew that Mötley Crüe needed this. It was a good way to kick start their band, a way to gain more popularity by actually putting on a show for the audience.

And because you were set on doing things for the audience, you let Vince pull you up from the organ seat and lead you by the hand to the centre of the stage during the little bass solo. The two of you bobbed your heads in time to the gradual crescendo of the drums and you let out a yelp when Vince picked you up by the waist, spinning you around a couple times.

As you were gasping and squealing along with the audience, Vince used his hands to ensure your legs were wrapped around his waist before sliding around your waist. By letting your head fall in the crook of his neck, you deepened the hug.

“Chain, keep us together.” you sang into Vince’s mic once you were on the ground again.

“Running in the shadows.” he sang back, leaning over your shoulder so that his arms stayed wrapped around your waist. His lips then fell on your shoulder to give a quick peck.

Tommy noticed how the drummer’s arms swung down harder by each second, the expression on his face growing angrier.

“Yo!” he hissed to Roger, then doing it louder the second time when the first one failed to get his attention.

“If you break the toms, you’re paying for a whole kit.”

“Sorry.” Roger mumbled, returning his strength back to the softness it was before.

The song ended and Vince made you curtsey (while the rest of Queen bowed, of course) before giving you a kiss on the cheek and a teasing slap on the ass to send you off backstage.

And you didn’t think much of it, because it was only for the audience.

It was only for the audience.

The sentence was the only thing that kept Roger calm.

It was only for the audience.

Vince didn’t mean it and you didn’t actually choose him.

-

You were sat on the floor of the band’s apartment, chatting away with a drunk/slightly high Nikki and finding out that the two of you were more similar than you thought you were.

The topic of parents came up when you noticed a lady had walked over to you, holding out a plate with two lines of coke. Nikki looked ecstatic, rubbing his hands together before picking up the tiny, metal straw. He looked at your blank expression and pointed to the second straw on the plate in confirmation.

“Oh, I don’t-”

“Just one line. I promise I won’t make you an addict.” he laughed.

“I’m good, thank you though.” you laughed in return.

And just on cue, Freddie had waltzed his way over.

“Yo Fred! Want a line?”

“Course I do!” he exclaimed, picking up the straw and copying Nikki’s movements from before.

“I didn’t know cocaine was your thing, Fred.”

“Neither did I. But it doesn’t hurt to try new things. Have a great night, darlings. Ta!” he cheered, getting up to turn on his heel and walk away.

You were about to ask Nikki for a line yourself, but Tommy shortly stumbled toward you after Freddie had left.

“Y/N...I have a serious question for you.” he spoke, forcing creases on his forehead to show that he was indeed being serious. It concerned you, if you were being honest.

“Sure…”

“Are you a witch?” he continued, still no sign of it being a joke on his face.

But you did notice that there was something off in his eyes and you turned to Nikki for help. He only mouthed the word ‘drugs’ and gave a very drawn out nod to ensure that you understood, which you showed by laughing.

“And why do you think that?”

“‘Cause Vince is going crazy about you, dude! It’s like you’ve got him in a spell or some shit. Look.”

And sure enough, you heard the repetitive chanting of your name, accompanied by the blonde singer hopping around the place.

“It’s fucking wild, man. He’s never done this for any other girl.”

You felt your cheeks heating up wildly at the realisation, more so when he decided to add the words ‘I’ and ‘love’ in the mix.

“Who’s up for a beer drinking contest?” he suddenly screamed, evoking a loud cheer from everyone at the party.

There was only one voice that didn’t do the same.

“We don’t have any fucking beers, dumbass.” Mick chuckled.

“Well, I’ll go get some.” he slurred, stumbling his way over to the ashtray in which his car keys were, but falling before he had the chance to even stand up properly.

“Take Y/N with you. She’s the only sober one here.” Tommy chipped in, earning drunk nods of the head from the rest of the boys that wanted you two to make up.

Roger himself nodded, too enticed in an argument with a woman about how bad Queen’s music was. But he didn’t seem mad, rather the opposite. They kept giving each other teasing touches and you suddenly didn’t want to be sober anymore.

You managed to steal Vince’s bottle of vodka and take a swig from it as you were walking out of the house, resulting in him giving out a cry at his stolen good.

“Shit...I didn’t bring my license.” you huffed after you had ruffled through your purse.

“‘S fine, I can drive.” he mumbled, slamming his hip square against the back of his car.

“You sure about that?” you giggled, tightening your grip around the neck of the bottle when he tried to grab for it.

“I know these roads like the back of my hand, pretty lady. And you know how much I look at that.” he winked.

His hands fumbled on his car keys, but eventually managed to put the key in and start the car. For a drunk man, he was surprisingly good at driving, but you guessed it was just muscle memory.

The car radio played softly, tinkling out different hits from the 70s. Vince drunkenly nodded along to the beat of the songs, singing along if he knew the words or looking over to you singing and laughing at the exaggerated movements you made to the love songs.

You loved the way he laughed. You loved the way his teeth glistened and his eyes shone when he did and how the night lights enunciated all of that. The sound itself was boyish and charming and made your heart soar every time you heard it and washed away some of the fears you had letting a drunk man drive.

“Wait wait wait...I need to pull over.” he stated after 5 songs, slowing the car down and parking it on the sidewalk.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“...I want a blowjob.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake Vince.” you laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

“No don’t worry, that’s not the reason.”

The smirk he gave you before he left the car made you fear for your life even more.

He appeared once again, now right outside the car door, and opened it up for you.

“M’lady.” he kept the smirk, earning a playful kiss on the cheek from you as you got out of the car.

He took your hand and lead you in the direction of a tatty, old and seemingly abandoned building, with its door broken so anyone could come in. There were no signs, but it screamed ‘keep out’. And Vince didn’t obey.

He dragged you through the endless corridor, which was only lit up by a few lamps scattered on the walls here and there, but you eventually managed to end up in a place that felt colder. Dragging you to a stop, he slammed his hand on the wall and activated some kind of switch that lit up the pool in front of you.

“This place always looks better at night.” he spoke proudly.

“Vince, why are we here?” you asked, trying your best not to sound as irritated as you were.

As you stood there grumbling to yourself, you didn’t notice that Vince had put you on the perfect spot right on the edge of the pool and had lined his hands on your shoulders to push you in.

You fell in with a scream and a loud splash, flailing your arms and legs around desperately to get above water.

Seeing Vince collapsing to the ground in laughter sent something through you. It wasn’t anger or irritation - you just wanted to find a way to get back. So you swam up to the edge and had him perch closer to you.

His childish grin and droopy, naïve eyes almost made you feel bad for even planning your impromptu revenge, so you decided to take it easy on him. You bunched up the front of his shirt and pulled him toward you with your lips puckered, but ducked under the water before your lips could touch. It caused him to tumble into the pool beside you and a louder fit of laughter from you.

“You asshole! I can’t swim!” he gargled, swinging his arms around in desperate need of something to grab on.

A pang of guilt hit you in the chest and you immediately made your way over to him, avoiding the splashes of water the best you could. But as soon as he had access to your shoulders, he found a way to push you down underwater, completely off-guard so you didn’t have the chance to take a deep breath, and kept you there for a few seconds.

When you came back up, you were fuelled with nothing but anger. Maybe a little bit of hysteria along with it.

“Wanker!”

You managed to send a huge wave of water crash over him with your arm, to which he returned the favour and did the same, and things continued like that for a bit. Until he dived down at the same time as you and grabbed your cheeks, feeling him pull you in for a kiss.

Slowly, your laughter came to a halt after the two of you came back up for air, him getting a chance to get a hold of your legs and wrap them around his waist for you. It also gave you both a chance to look into each other’s eyes properly, like when you were in the bathroom, or when you were onstage.

There was still that sense of awe in the way he looked back at you and it was still evident despite the alcohol. It warmed your heart to see, but it didn’t feel right at the same time.

“Stop thinking.” he grumbled, wading through the water over to the edge of the pool with you still in his hold.

“What d’ya mean?” you queried when he hoisted you up onto the concrete surface again.

“Lemme show you.” he stated, reaching over to the jacket he smartly placed on the poolside before you pulled him in. You hadn’t even noticed he had bought his Polaroid along with him, due to the fact that the bag holding the camera was hidden under his jacket.

(thank daniel webber for inspiring this part, i love his photography)

“Say cheese!” he said after pulling the camera out, drawing out the ‘e’ in an adoring manner.

So you gave him a big smile as you were blinded by the flash for a few seconds, but when he looked at what he had taken, you saw that the smile on his own face had disappeared.

“What’s wrong?” you pushed when he didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“You’re thinking.” he repeated, showing you the picture. You couldn’t see what was wrong, though.

“The light from the pool fills your eyes and your face perfectly. You’re so fucking gorgeous. But your smile ain’t right, babe.”

You bit your lip, not because you didn’t understand what he meant, but you were scared of what he was implying.

“You wish I was Roger, don’t you?”

The sentence hit harder than it was supposed to. Even Vince could see that.

“I- Vince-”

“Nah, it’s fine. I can take you back.” he hummed sadly, hoisting himself onto the poolside next to you.

“No- Vince, please, I want to be here.” you said, but even he could detect the uncertainty in your words.

“I want you.” you corrected yourself

“Then prove it.”

You pulled him by the neck for a rough, messy kiss, causing him to topple onto you. But he pulled away as quick as the kiss started.

“I’d continue if it wasn’t for those two cockblockers standing there.” he answered your confused expression.

You turned to look at what Vince was referring to, only to meet the eyes of two scary-looking security guards (that’s what you assumed they were at least) towering over the two of you with stern faces and crossed arms.

“You’ve got 5 seconds to leave before we call the cops.”

With that, Vince leapt off you and pulled you up with him so that you could bolt out the building into your car again, laughing like mad men along the way.

“That was the most embarrassing to ever happen to me.” you half-mumbled, half-laughed to yourself.

“Let’s get these fuckin’ beers!” he whooped, igniting the car once more and speeding down the road.

It didn’t take long for Vince to drive to the nearest gas station and use his rockstar money to get 8 boxes of 8 cans of beer, which he then had to buckle a seatbelt over because it was his ‘duty as a father to protect his children’ and ‘you’re the mother, you should be concerned about their safety too’.

The ride back to their apartment had a lot of stopping and starting again, as Vince kept his hand on your thigh and couldn’t help going further. You had to frequently scold him and tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but of course he didn’t want to.

‘Baby, It’s You’ started to play on the radio and the two of you simultaneously went to turn the volume up. Vince then rolled down all the windows so that everyone in their cars and their pet dogs could hear the song and your voices harmonising/borderline screaming.

But Vince didn’t keep his eyes on the road at all and you were having too much fun to notice. He leant in to your side to try and steal a kiss, but he pulled the steering wheel in the same direction without realising it. The car skidded and spun in the direction of the grassy field next to you and before you had the chance to grab the wheel and put the car back on track, two blinding lights suddenly appeared in the darkness with a blaring noise you assumed was the horn.

The only sounds you could hear after that was the shattering of glass, the screeching of both cars attempting to break and the song quietly playing in the background. Only, it wasn’t The Beatles’ soothing vocals, nor was it Vince’s.

“I love you too, Roger.”

-

“Holy shit.”

-

TAGLIST: @lifesasickjoke @slowandangry @rrrogah-tayluhh @fatbottomedgorl @ugly-shirts-girl @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @kawennote09 @totallynotkaibiased @amy-brooklyn99 @hannafuckingsucks @miss2001babe @anxious-diabetic @drowsebaby

PART 4

[svubloods]

Imagine Rafael texting you whenever he has a bad day

(A/N: For Anon, I changed your request to meet my requirements but I hope you still enjoy this. I only did this because you clarified afterward which I appreciate but I won’t lie and say that your original request didn’t make me uncomfortable because it did. I’m only mentioning it because I want to reiterate the fact that I do have guidelines for requests, which I kindly request that everyone reviews before sending in a request. I’m not trying to be negative or mean but it’s just that I continuously get requests that don’t meet my requirements and it makes me uncomfortable and then I have to delete the request which I don’t like because it makes me feel like that I’m ignoring you guys. Thanks for understanding and I hope you enjoy. Sorry, it’ short. I’m trying to get everyone's requests done as quickly as possible) 

Imagine Rafael texting you whenever he has a bad day

The silent vibration from your phone rang through the left side of your body. You shifted slightly and took a breath, you couldn’t just take a look in the middle of this meeting, mostly because you were the one pitching. You continued to present your ideas and pitch knowing that they were liking it but you knew that your mind was somewhere else. You glanced at the clock, mentally checking through all the people who would be texting you at 10:00 am in the morning. No coworkers would, no family would, no friends would.

There was only one person, your boyfriend Rafael.

It was still strange regardless. He rarely texted you during business hours. He was too busy too usually and he knew you were too. The only time he ever would was when he was having a bad day and there was nothing he could do about it. You shifted uncomfortably in your chair for the second time, knowing something was wrong and you couldn’t do anything about it for at least another half an hour.

You and Rafael had been dating for about two years at this point and of course, by now, you knew his habits. You met after you advertising firm, where you work as Creative Technologist,  a  held a fundraiser for an Inner City Youth Charity and you were required to attend and so was Rafael by his boss for appearance's sake. Though both of you would have come anyway, you both worked your way up out of the situations and areas of the city that the kids this Charity were helping. You bonded that night over the fact that it felt like you two were the only two people there who actually knew what these kids were going through.

He didn’t ask you straight away. You kept on running into each other because once again you were the only two people who went to the event who actually continued to support the Charity, by helping them out from time to time. After about the third time running into each other he finally asked you out for coffee and things went on from there to now. You lived together, you were in love and you knew everything about him, including his habits.

“That was great, Y/N.” Your Boss congratulated quickly as he leads the clients out of the room.

“Thanks, Sir,” You smiled, waiting for him to leave so you could check your phone.

You watched him and the Client representatives walk away through the glass wall before pulling out your phone quickly, starting to read and heading back to your office.

Rafael: I can’t do this anymore.

You could help but chuckle down at your screen as you closed the door of your office behind you and sat down at your desk. Rafael had a tendency to be overdramatic when things weren’t going to plan or he was irritated. You decided to take the route that had been proven to work.

Y/N: With work? With this relationship? Or with life generally? You’re going have to be specific. I have to plan different things depending.

After few seconds you got a reply, something big must be up. Sure Rafael constantly had his phone in hand and sure he was always texting away. But it usually was all about work.

Rafael: I’m not joking…

Y/N: Neither am I. Funerals are expensive and so is unemployment.

Rafael: Y/N…

Y/N: What’s wrong Rafael?

Rafael: A lot of things.

Y/N: Once again you’re going to have to be more specific.

Rafael: Everything’s going wrong and everyone is being so stupid.

Y/N: It must be bad. You’re acting like a child again.

Rafael: When do I ever act like a child?

Y/N: When you lost at Monopoly last week.

Rafael: You cheated Y/N and you know it.

Y/N: How did I cheat? How could I possibly cheat?

Rafael: You were taking money from the box!

Y/N: YOU WERE THE BANKER!

Texts stopped after that. It happened must of the time because he was so busy so you didn’t mind. You kept your phone close-by knowing that he would text back soon. A couple of hours passed before he texted back. You had finished work and were working on your next project. As well as mentally and physically preparing for Rafael to text you back. You’d been down this road much time and you knew what you were doing. And exactly as you had anticipated, twenty minutes after your conformation.  The sound of your phone rang out this time as well as vibrating your desk, giving you a mini heart-attack.

Rafael: Why is everyone so incompetent, especially a certain detective?

Y/N: IDK, must be a genetic thing.

Rafael: Seriously???

Y/N: Yeah seriously, intelligence is a combination of nurture and nature. So genetics can play a part as to why you are finding your coworkers so incompetent today.

Rafael: What are you talking about?

Y/N: Stuff, I’m educating. You can always learn something new!

Rafael: Are you on something?

Y/N: Just the high of life,

Rafael: Have you eaten?

Y/N: Yep!

Rafael: Eat something else. I don’t think you have had enough.

Y/N: Have you had lunch, yet?

Rafael: Not yet…

Y/N: You should fix that.

Rafael: I don’t have time. My detectives just dumped a mess on me that will take a combination of hours of legal work, begging and promising a lot of favours to correct.

Y/N: Well, I don’t think you have to worry about getting any food.

Rafael: Why??? What have you done, Y/N???

Y/N: You’ll find out in ten.

You didn’t elaborate or text him back after that. He texted you a couple of times but you tactfully ignored it as you knew, you would have to wait until he finished.

Two hours later and two hours off the typical end of the day. You got another text after a couple of hours of radio silence.

Rafael: Thanks for lunch

Y/N: Did you like it? Well, I know you did because it was your favourite.

Rafael: I definitely enjoyed it. I don’t think I could have made it through this crapshoot of a day without it.

Y/N: Why, what happened?

Rafael: Judge just threw out my main piece of evidence.

Y/N: Figuratively or literally?

Rafael: Because a judge threw the murder weapon causally out the window…

Y/N: Well, I don’t know do I?

Rafael: Yes, you do Y/N. Literally, everyone knows.

Y/N: So it was literally.

Rafael: You’re insane.

Y/N: Only about you. By the way, I’m making Mac and Cheese for dinner.

Rafael: Why? 


Y/N: Because I want it.

Rafael: I might be late.

Y/N: I’ll have some ready and waiting for you.

Rafael: What about you?

Y/N: That depends on how late you are.

You continued you to text on and off for the next couple hours. He kept on calling you crazy as you kept on sending him jokes and strange thoughts that popped into your brain. He thought you were literally going insane but you knew he was laughing away in his office and that was the whole point.

You headed home once your day was over. A luxury that Rafael usually didn’t have, he was constantly staying late at work and you were used to it at this point. You got home, took your makeup off, put your pyjamas on and began cooking boy yours and Rafael’s favourite comfort food. Though it was an upgraded version than the one you both made when you were kids. It still had that comforting feeling that you both needed back then while you were alone at home while your Mothers worked jobs to keep you fed, clothed and sheltered.

You were just finishing making and preparing your food when Rafael returned.

“Hey!” You beamed, greeting him, lifting your arms up with a large spoon in one and two small empty bowls in the other, “You’re just in time for dinner! I made…”

He didn’t say anything but he interrupted you regardless. He just walked over and hugged you. It took you by surprise but you were careful not to drop anything. You awkwardly dropped the items on the counter before being able to return the hug that he was giving you.

“Hey,” You soothed as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, “What’s going on?”

“Thank you,” He whispered, still holding on to you.

“You don’t have to thank me for making dinner. It was my turn…” You began to remind.

“Not for that. For today,” He clarified, straightening up and stepping back but still in your arms so he could look into your eyes.

“I didn’t do anything,” You shrugged innocently.

“You don’t think I know what you do on days like these?” He countered, with a sad smirk, “Being funny, doing things for me and keeping me distracted. You don’t think I know you do it to make me feel better?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You insisted.

“Okay, then,” He nodded, finally understanding.

“Great,” You grinned, kissing his cheek before releasing yourself from his grasp and helping spoonfuls of Mac and Cheese into the bowls, “Do you want some right now?”

“Of course,” He agreed, taking the bowl from you and heading to the couch.

You quickly followed and sat closely behind him. A few minutes passed as you ate in silence watching TV.

“Y/N?” Rafael suddenly said.

“Hmm?” You prompted, as you swallowed a bite full of food.

“Thank you,” He smiled genuinely.

“For what?” You asked curiously.

“For everything,” He responded sincerely, “ For just being you and for choosing me out of all the people you could have chosen to spend your life with,”

“I do anything for you, Rafael. You don’t have to thank me.,” You smiled shyly, “ I love you,”

“I love you too,” He retuned, “ And no matter what you say and no matter how much you object. I plan on spending the rest of  my life thanking you for being with me, for choosing me.”

“Well, no one else is going to put up with you babe,” You teased, giving him a light jostle playfully but you were blushing evidently, “Who else will have you?”

“Funny,” He smirked, “I was going to say the same thing about you,”