Say Yes to Distress (Rafael Barba x Reader)
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! We’re gonna be late if you don’t speed up!”
How interesting it was for you to make such a statement, given that Rafael could only go as fast as your tugging from ahead allowed him. At least, it would have been interesting, had you not roused the man from his sleep in such an abrupt manner. Rafael Barba was a very busy man and one who had learned long ago to appreciate what downtime he had to the best of his ability. So if there ever was an opportunity to sleep in, he would sleep like a rock after capping a night out on the town with some hard liquor. And he was quite grateful to share such a trait with you. Curled up, your back to his chest, being the big spoon to your little spoon underneath the comforting shield of the duvet with the familiar sounds of the bustling city below your apartment playing in the background – that was how he liked his Saturday mornings.
woken up to your cold hands smooshing his cheek after he failed to respond to your
whispers or even shaking him. And certainly not getting marched out of bed,
into the shower for only five minutes, a quick breakfast of Eggo waffles
(weekends were usually the only time he could even get breakfast!), and out the door to the rowdy streets of New York.
He much preferred this sound to be on the other side of the window, rather than
up in his ears. However, the honking of car horns and rattle of construction
and shouting of commuters was almost drowned out, if not for you taking up the
most of his attention with your incessant command: “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” You’d
been saying it since he’d lumbered out of bed. And he’d been asking why since
the Eggo waffles.