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#icy is ok i mean
iceclew · 2 months
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Part 2 is out as well, have a look! c:
Well GUESS who's got some days off of work, and is about to waste them solemly with drawing fandom -> THIS GURL HERE IS, WOOH!! (๑♡⌓♡๑)
Haaah...yes, me and the words again.. This is way to much dialogue for a comic isn't it? I hope it helps that I put down the whole text in the description as well (see below)..
Ah, yess the old "we ran into each other sometime somewhere before, but we cannot remember of course" (honestly, I just wanted to draw the two of them to interact as kids so badly, I just had to make something up for it)
Since Soshiro would have sort of a dialect, I tried to "englishify" that with slang..? (Slang I am not familiar with, because I am not a native english speaker, and just know about it because of the internet. Sorry if this is causing confusion somewhere) And when Kafka is speaking rather different than he does, I imagine it would sound funny to a 8 y/o... in case you've been wondering his comment..
Also I don't know if ppl would go on vacation, I literally just made everything up, analyzing a universe's law is so not my speciality... (*゚ー゚)ゞ
*transcript below*
*getting out of a shelter right after a Kaiju attack*
Soshiro: 'Scuse me, have ya seen ma brotha? He's like this tall! Kafka: Uh... sorry dude, I haven't S: Can you like ... look for him? (since you'r taller and stuff...) K: Sure. So what does he look like? S: Like my brotha... K: Uh.... ok.. S: Hehe, ya sound funny! K: You think? Yeah, I'm not from around here. I'm on vacation right now. S: REALLY?! People come on vacation? HERE? Like for real?? WHY? XD K (thinking): what an annoying brat, better find his bro soon...
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K: So, are we just looking for your brother? Your mom and dad are not around? *looking for anybody slightly resembling* S: NAH, they kill'd the Kaiju, they won't be home anytime before ev'ning. K: So they're Defence Force officers then? S: Tkch, as if! My dad's a platoon leader! K: Really? That's cool! I want to get into the Defence Force too in a few years! :) S: HAH! YOU? You look like a whimp! There's more to a D.F. Officer, than being tall, you gotta have what it TAKES!!
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K: Oh, let me guess. And you think YOU have that? S: YEAH? Well.. MOST OF IT!! I'm not allowed holding a gun yet... But just you wait! I'mma BEAT those Kaiju's BUTTS for sure!!
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K: Relax, I believe you, don't worry! Look at ya, a feisty one like you can become Captain in no time! S: Ah! D: K: Keep going, so we get to spare in Tokyo one day! Let's see who's the better fighter when we're grown-ups, okay? S: ... YEAH! I'mma beat ya ass, tall guy!!
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kadethecat · 1 year
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3%
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millipedish · 6 months
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Reasons to ship Convincin John with Uncle Matt:
Uncle Matt is my comfort character, so it's like shipping me with John
Mustache party
Probably some very good duets
I just love old men being cute ok?
They have both been to Outer Space and they can suggest cute date spots to one another
Reasons to ship Convincin John with Icy Joe:
They look like an amazing couple. She is an ancient giantess and he's a little rat fraggle.
Icy Joe is very blunt and straight forward to the point of sometimes coming across as mean; Convincing John is a popular sweet talker who's probably lying 90% of the time
Like no imagine Joe helping John to be more honest and John helping Joe to be nicer
Icy Joe is probably the only person John's convincing ability doesn't work on, making their relationship even more grounded.
A cavewoman being with a used car salesman/flashy preacher is just fun
Reasons to ship Icy Joe with Uncle Matt:
I am incredibly attracted to Icy Joe(again, Matt is my fragglesona in this situation.
There could be some very fun conversations about ancient explorer methods and modern explorer methods
Both stubborn as hell and probably get on each other's nerves a lot, one of the draws of both of the major Red ships
Matt showing Joe his favorate datespots in outer space; Joe showing Matt forgotten paths of the fraggles
Reasons to ship Convincing John, Uncle Matt, and Icy Joe together in a polycule: All of the above
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jade-curtiss · 1 year
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J'aime comment j'traite l'affaire (ben les reality shows là) comme moi à la court, faut être performatif (ok j'ai genre tellement essayé d'avoir l'air le plus redneck possible, mais tsé le fucking coat de chasse était probablement too much mais comfy mais comme sti que ça fittait avec rien skakakskdkska)
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tojipie · 9 months
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Thoughts on Toji being mean to his gf after a bad day at work and immediately regretting it.. pls pls pls pls
content: major angst, hurt/comfort, fluff if you squint, blue collar toji
a/n: y’all have rly been devouring the hurt/comfort stuff up lately is everything ok guys :((
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the added weight in toji’s steps as he makes his way into the house doesn’t go unnoticed by you, even from the other side of the house.
you knew your boyfriend well enough to tell when he’d had a bad day. toji wasn’t the type to express himself, his body language did that for him.
“bad day?” you yell from the kitchen, wiping your damp hands off before making your way into the living room.
“something like that,” he mumbles, pulling you into a side hug and pressing a firm kiss to the crown of your head.
long days spent in the blistering cold had taken its toll on his body and mind. soft, warm palms had morphed into plains of cracked, bleeding skin. the tip of his nose permanently red from the icy wind.
blue-collar work was no joke.
“i made pasta if you’re hungry,” you offer sweetly, taking his thick welding jacket from his hands.
“not hungry doll,” he mumbles, kicking his snow boots off and onto the plush carpet with a grunt. gross.
“can you at least put your shoes on the ra—”
“you don’t ever shut the fuck up do you?” toji cuts in, rubbing the butt of his hand into his temple boredly.
you’d think he’d just asked you the time with how casually he says it. cold, calculated, and solely intended to hurt your feelings in as little time as possible.
toji opens his mouth before closing it a couple times, “i’m sorry,” he starts, turning to face your shivering form with his eyes blown wide.
“i don’t know where that came from—fuck,”
you step back as he makes his way over to you, furiously wiping tears before they have the chance to fall.
“can you just put your fucking shoes away,” you whimper, wanting to change the subject out of sheer embarrassment.
“sweet girl,” he whispers, grunting when you throw his jacket in his face.
“it’s fine,” you tell him, letting your arms hang limp by your sides when he pulls you into a hug.
“it’s not,” he mumbles quietly, pressing soft kisses to your hairline. “it’s not and i’m sorry.”
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u3pxx · 6 months
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KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.
EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!
- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!
- “Sure is.”
DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?
YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could’ve driven it into the uh…”
DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!
YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”
KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.
INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.
ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.
HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!
VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.
KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”
YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”
LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.
KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”
YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.
KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”
YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”
KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."
He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”
EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.
YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”
KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.
YOU - “…”
KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.
YOU - “Kim?”
KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.
YOU - “KIM!!!!”
uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt
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(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)
also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes
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evielmostdefinitely · 10 months
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slightly odd request but i’ve LOVED cold tonight and the others in the mini series and i was wondering if you could write something where reader gets into a disagreement with the caption wife of a politician snow HATES and reader does everything correct and is ‘well behaved’ for snow so when he gets her home she sort of breaks down in concern he’ll punish her and she’s worrying he’s mad at her but instead he just comforts her and tells her how good she is etc etc , maybe some praising smut if you fancy ? totally ok if it’s not your cup of tea !!!!
bitter cold |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested above :)
contains: alludes to dom/sub themes but not super heavy. possessive, dark snow. reader gets hurt (not by snow). slight smut at the end but not super graphic.
“Mrs. Snow,” The snarl in her tone, you could practically picture the baring teeth, lips pursed in a forced smile that resembled more of a grimace waiting behind you; Cypher Crane. 
You turned, a polite smile on your lips- years of training. These dinners weren’t new to you by any means. You had grown up attending numerous socialite events such as this, only now, you were the President’s wife. 
“Cypher,” You greeted the brunette woman with a clenched grin. “Lovely to see you.” 
“Yes,” She hissed, eyes trailing down your figure, over your outfit with a flare of her nose in disapproval. “I’m sure it is.” 
You winced, sucking in a breath. And so it begins, you thought. Cypher was your age, you’d grown up going to school together, school yard friends even, at one point. Until you married Coriolanus. Since the death of her elder sister, Arachne, the entire Crane family had blamed Coriolanus. It was his idea that they go see the tributes, and therefore his fault she died. It never bothered Corio, he’d roll his eyes and wave it off, “The family is grieving. Let them blame me if it makes them feel better.” He’d scoff. Still, it upset you, their constant provoking. 
You cleared your throat lightly, scanning the room for Coriolanus on the other end, desperate to be away from Cypher, the tension already too much. “If you’ll excuse me, my husband needs me-” 
“-No, I need to have a word with you.” Cypher blocked your step easily, clutching her champagne flute. Your heart hammered, trying to stay calm, cool. 
“About?” You lifted a brow, tone lifting to stay light and casual- unbothered, hoping you would stay the same. 
“The games,” Her eyes narrowed, lips fixing in a tight line. 
Your heart dropped. Corio had made a number of changes to the games. Alongside Dr. Gaul, the two were working to gain more and more viewers. His first games, and he wanted them to be perfect. The changes had been announced to the sponsors council only a few days prior. You were sure that was why Cypher wanted to talk to you.
“Your husband,” Her words drenched in venomous disgust. “Made changes to the games.” You sucked in a breath as she took a step closer to you. “To the tributes.” 
Your eyes darted around. Where were your friends? Where was Corio? Tigris? Anyone to help you. 
“Yes, he has.” You nodded, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. “Dr. Gaul and Coriolanus thought it best that the tributes be welcomed and celebrated for their sacrifices-” 
“-I fucking know what he said.” Cypher snapped, her voice bouncing off the marble of the room, catching the attention of the guests around you- maybe the whole room. You were too scared to look, truthfully. Coriolanus’ icy, curious gaze had found yours, brows furrowed. 
“I was there when this ridiculous idea was presented, and quite frankly I’m surprised at you.” Cypher sneered, finger jabbing dangerously close towards your face. “Your own daily endorsing this-this monstrosity. Treating tributes as heroes? Funding new trains and tearing down the tribute zoo? Giving them this pedestal to parade around on?” 
“Darling,” Coriolanus’ tone was tight, it made your heart skip. You looked at him, eyes rounded in fear, pinned against the wall. Cypher close to you, Coriolanus behind her. “Is everything alright?” You knew he was upset about the commotion, the improperness of it. 
Your words jumbled in your mouth, fumbling over a calm, collected response. Cypher never turned, never moved, kept her furious gaze on you. “You know my sister was killed by one of those tributes?” Cypher sneered. 
The room stilled, Coriolanus’ eyes falling to you. You weren’t sure what to do, uncomfortable and a little frightened. “You do know it, and now you want to reward them? Reward the rebellion? That’s what you’re doing aren’t you?” 
“No.” You shook your head. “No, never, I- we would never-” 
“-Liar!” Cypher roared, lunging at you. She shoved you against the wall, your head smacking the heavy marble, wincing through clenched vision, waiting for the strike. 
Instead, Coriolanus had her, arms wrenched around her shoulders, shoving her with such force to the ground before the Peacekeepers drug her away. “You killed my sister! You did, Snow! And now you’re rewarding the ones who killed her! Her blood is on your hands, you rebels!” 
“Move,” Corio shoved the Avoxes out of the way, eyes scanning over your features furiously. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He whispered, jaw clenched in fear, maybe rage. 
“I-I’m alright.” You took a shaky breath, reaching to the back of your head, rubbing the forming knot. Corio’s grip tightened around you.
“Take her to my lab.” Gaul commanded the guards, bright eye wandering wickedly Coriolanus’ way. He nodded, lips pursed furiously, one arm around you. “Clear everyone out.” He commanded with a sharp jerk of his head. 
“Corio, I-I’m fine.” Your breath shuddered, gripping his arm to steady yourself. “Everyone doesn’t have to leave-” 
“-I’m taking you to be examined.” Coriolanus’ jaw was tight, pulling you down the Capitol’s steps with a fury. 
“I don’t need that, darling, I promise. I-I’m alright.” Your heart beat furiously. You had ruined his event. You knew how important this was, and you let it get out of hand. Now, Corio was furious, and why wouldn’t he be? 
“You need to be examined.” Coriolanus’ tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Instead, his hand wrapped tighter around your bicep, hauling you to the private wing of the Capitol’s mansion- your shared wing. 
You didn’t fight, sure if you opened your mouth, you might be sick. Instead you sat obediently, letting the doctor examine you, avoiding Coriolanus’ intense, watchful gaze on you. Your fate was sealed, you knew it. Knew that he was upset with you- that he’d punish you for such a display.
The doctor checked you, wrote it off as a mild concussion with orders to not sleep. Coriolanus’ response of “I will ensure of it,” in such a cutting, firm tone, made you shiver. 
The room was eerily still when the doctor left, just you and Coriolanus residing in your bedroom, a thick tension in the air. 
“How are you feeling?” You jumped at the sound of his voice, sharper than normal, though his brows were furrowed with something softer. Concern, perhaps? 
“I-I’m ok, Corio.” You swallowed your nerves, clutching the duvet of the bed. “Just an ache.” 
“How bad of an ache? You didn’t tell the doctor this.” Corio huffed, standing quickly, crossing the bedroom with a fury. 
“Corio, don’t. I’m fine.” You shook your head, moving off the edge after him.
 Coriolanus turned around, frowning at you. “You’re not supposed to be up.” He huffed, harsher than he meant to. “Sit down.” 
You flinched, scurrying back obediently. “I’m sorry. I-I just, I’m fine. I promise. I’m ok.” You stuttered, stomach dropping and twisting with fear. 
Corio paused, watching you with careful eyes. He’d written off your skittish behavior as fear from the situation, fear from being hurt. Now, he watched you cower before him, eyes peering at him the way those he executed did, trembling with pure horror. 
An unpleasant heaviness settled in his chest, sinking to his stomach. “My love,” Corio frowned, stepping towards you. “Are you alright?” 
“I’m ok, Corio, I promise. I-I’m just-just…” You looked at him, head turned down, curled into yourself. 
Coriolanus knelt in front of you, between your legs, taking your face into his hands gently, stomach lurching at the way you tensed. “What’s the matter?” He whispered, blue eyes scanning your face for a sign, any indication as to why you were so fearful. 
You hesitated, lip rolling between your teeth. You wanted to stay silent, be obedient and not further him any more. His gentle touches were lulling you, coaxing your own anxieties out of you. 
“Corio, I swear, I-I did not mean for that conversation to get out of hand as it did.” Your eyes met his gaze hesitantly. “I tried to excuse myself. I tried to de-escalate it, and-and move away, but she was so… determined.” 
Coriolanus waited, blinking, still in his own confusion. Your hands twisted in your own clammy grip. “I didn’t mean to ruin your event. I-I was just trying to be polite and-and it got out of hand-” 
“-I know that.” Coriolanus tilted his head gently. “Darling, this isn’t your fault.” 
“She approached me, and-and I should have walked away or-or called you over-” 
“-You did what you should have done.” Coriolanus said firmly, lips pressing together. “I need to know who is with me and who is against me. There are far too many rebels, unscared and ready to strike. Clearly, the Crane family is one and will be dealt with.” You shuddered at the sneer in his tone, the venomous threat ominous of what was to come for the Crane family, what Cypher was already experiencing in Gaul’s lab. 
“I wish that would have been done without her laying a hand on you,” Corio grit, anger flashing through those dazzling, blue eyes that had you swooning when their gaze met yours. “But, I can assure that will not be possible for her to do. Not for much longer.” 
Your grip tightened this time, clutching his hand fiercely, like a lifeline. “You’re not angry with me?” 
“I could never be.” Coriolanus shook his head. “You defended me, I heard you- others heard you.” His lips curled in a soft smile. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” 
You beamed under his praise, relaxing into his touch. Corio’s fingers brushed over your knuckles carefully. “Are you feeling ok?” He asked, softer now. A touch of… worry in his tone? 
“Yes,” You nodded, pressing your forehead to his, your noses touching. “It’s just an ache.” 
Coriolanus’ hand tightened in yours. “I should have her whole fucking bloodline removed for that. For putting her hands on you.” 
“Don’t.” You whispered, shaking your head gently. “She’s upset. She lost her sister.” 
“She’ll be losing more than that tonight, my darling, rest assured.” Corio hissed, that cloudy darkness seeping back into his gaze. “I will make sure of it.” 
You didn’t fight him, didn’t try to sway him. You didn’t want to upset him further, there was nothing that could change Cypher’s fate anyways. 
Instead, you let him dote on you. You let Corio’s fingers brush through your hair, parting your scalp, running lightly over the small knot there. His lips were soft, pressing a gentle kiss to the sore area, before replacing it with ice. He even held the ice pack in place when your arm got tired, like a true, doting husband. 
Your eyes would droop, a soft pat to your leg waking you, a stern stare that had you blushing bashfully, thighs pressing together. 
“You have to stay awake, my love.” Corio reminded with a soft grumble, rubbing your scalp gently. 
“So keep me awake.” You purred, pressing up on his chest lightly, body between his legs. Corio grinned, hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you into him, lips hungrily devouring yours. He moved you gently into the goose feather pillows, lips dragging down your cheek, jaw, biting at your neck. He was so sweet to you, fucking you how you liked- on your stomach, his body folded on top of yours, hands intertwined, hot breath grunting and moaning into your ear.
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oneforthemunny · 4 months
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what about mafia!eddie and reader going through a rough patch and all they do is fight and kitten tells him that they should take a break and i'll leave the rest up to you....
oof ok let's 180 back to angst. buckle up angsty babes!
"Maybe," Your voice trembled, sucking in a shaky breath. "Maybe I should go stay with my parents... for a while."
Eddie's head whipped around, eyes wide with something you couldn't quite detect, a new look teetering between anger and something worse. It made your spine tingle with chills, icy and fearful.
"What?" Eddie's voice was soft, much quieter than the raised tone from before.
"I-I think," You tried to still your voice, throat raw and aching from the back and forth screaming match of the night. "I think I- we need to be apart for a while." You whispered, refusing to meet his gaze, looking at the couch behind him instead.
"Why?" Eddie barked, teeth gritting and baring in fury, heart pounding with a fear he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Eddie," You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Seriously? All we do is fight." A fresh wave of tears rolled over you, nose burning.
"That's not-"
"-Eddie," You stopped him, gaze meeting his. You could see it now, could see that the foreign look was fear. Your heart sank, taking a shuddering breath to calm yourself. "We're just... We can't stop fighting."
Eddie stilled, frozen across from you. "I'm tired of fighting." You admitted softly, shoulders slumping in defeat.
Days, weeks of bickering- back and forth until your voices were raw, doors slamming, then retreating back with careful apologies, only to repeat the cycle over and over. You were dizzy from it, from trying to get him to see, to understand your point. He was so stubborn.
What started as a what if silly conversation, turned into a bickering, fueled into a full blown fight that seemed never ending.
"You'd be a good dad. You're so good with the boys." You hummed, leaning against his chest.
"Yeah? You'll never know." Eddie scoffed casually.
You frowned, pushing up to look at him. "What?"
Eddie blinked. "C'mon, you know I can't have kids. Not doin' this job. Won't do it to some poor kid."
"But I'll never know?" Your lips pursed. "That's a pretty shitty thing to say to me. Pretty bold." You pushed off of him, out of his hold.
Eddie huffed, running a hand down his face. "Where're you- Seriously? We've talked about this, have we not?"
"Yeah, we have." You huffed, cheeks burning. "But saying I'll never know- do you not see how that's a little rude?"
"What?" Eddie threw his hands up. "You won't. Not with me, anyways."
You gawked at him, surprised, furious, hurt. "You're such a fuckin' asshole. I can't believe you." You snapped, stomping off.
That was the first night. Both of you stubbornly coming for the other, agitation building over and over and over, piling on top of previous fury until you'd finally burst. Leaving you standing here, where you are now, defeated and ready to throw the towel in, too tired to fight.
"I-I- Baby, if this is about the kids thing, look, I told you-"
Your sigh cut Eddie off. "It's not about that." You ran a hand down your face. "I can't- I can't keep trying to explain my side of things when you aren't listen. You won't listen."
"Then what? What is it?" Eddie's franticness turned to angry urgency. "Just say what you mean! Say it!"
You didn't flinch at his anger, at his outburst. Your lip wobbled, taking a deep breath in. "I've said it." You muttered. "I can't- I won't be in a relationship that's one sided." Eddie felt sick at your words.
"I understand that you don't want certain things, and I respect that, I do. But I've changed a lot of things in my life for you, because I love you." You continued, tears brimming your vision. "All I'm asking is for a little change in return. Not with the kids thing-" You cut him off before he could start, sensing what he was going to say.
"But there's two of us in this relationship." You look at him. "I just wish you could try to see my side of things sometimes."
"I do-" Eddie spat in defense.
"-When I'm agreeing with you, you do." You snapped back. "But when it's something you disagree with, you shut me down, dismiss it because what you say is law-"
"-It is not-"
"-And I'm tired of it." You look at him pleadingly. "I think we both need some time apart to figure out what we want. What we do from here."
Eddie felt tears burn, threatening to fall. "I know what I want." He gritted through clenched teeth. "I want you. I've always wanted you. I don't need time to figure out because it's not changing."
You nodded slowly. "I know you do." You whispered. "But this is what I'm talking about. That's what you want."
Eddie felt sick, heart sinking lower and lower into the pit in his stomach. "I need time apart." The room was silent, your voice cutting through. "I need to figure it out."
"Are you- You're breaking up with me?" Eddie sounded petulant, voice crackingly pathetic that he hadn't been since he was a teenager.
Your shoulder shuddered, exhaling shakily. "I didn't say that." You shook your head. "I-I don't want to, that's not what this is. I just... I need to be able to think. We both do."
Eddie blinked, vision bleary with tears that fell. "Alright," He nodded, ignoring the ache in his chest, heart splitting in two. "If that's what you want."
Watching you drive off, slow down the road, Eddie ignored the screaming in his head to run after you. To pull you out of the car, demand you come back, bring you back himself. This is what I'm talking about, your voice played in a painful loop in his mind.
You called him like you said you would, hours later when you got to your parent's house. A quiet, quick phone call. His heart still swelled, lifting when you muttered a fast, "love you" before hanging up.
Sitting in the stillness of the empty house, Eddie had never felt so lonely in his entire life. It was horrifying, thinking that his future could be like this- a life without you in it. Eddie decided right then and there, he'd do whatever he needed to make sure that wasn't his reality.
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helen-with-an-a · 5 months
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I am an adult pt 4
Hi. So this is pt 4 of the I am an adult. I really liked writing it and hope you enjoy it too. I definitely want to do a 5th part but I'm not sure about how many more after that I will do (if you get what I mean). Also, all of the German and Spanish is from google/google translate so if it's wrong, I apologise
Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue
Description: Lena gets the talk
Word Count: 4.1k
TW: Slight smut (undescribed/suggestive rather than outright)
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You weren’t used to waiting at airports for people. Usually, you were the one who was walking off the plane to visit friends and family. But you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling up – just thinking about who would be walking through the door made you smile. You didn’t quite know the protocol for meeting your long-distance girlfriend off a flight. You were nervous about it – wanting to do it right. You may have gotten into a bit of a TikTok wormhole over couples reuniting; most people went with flowers and a sign, but you were staying in an unfamiliar city for both of you, and you did have a match to play. It was something you agonised over for days before the arrival. Having consulted an unhelpful Ona, a laughing Patri and an amused Jana, you settled on asking Alexia. That was an adult thing to talk about, right?
“Um … Ale, can I … can I ask you something?” You said as you curled up on her sofa.
“Of course, pequeña. Esta todo bien?”
“Yeh, um … it’s about Lena, actually” That might have been a bad way to phrase it. Alexia’s face dropped, her gaze becoming a little icy.
“Que hizo ella?” Her voice was just as cold.
“Nothing, nothing, prometo.” You reassured her. “I wanted to ask you what to get her for the airport,” you explained quietly, a little apprehensive over her response.
“Oh, cariño.” Alexia cooed, pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her as she twisted to face you, her hand reaching along the back of the sofa to pick at the corner of the cushion. “Honestly, I don’t think she’d be expecting anything. I certainly wouldn’t if Olga and I met somewhere in the middle.” Her look softened even more as you nodded furiously, eyes locked on her patterned carpet. She could see you sag ever so slightly – clearly, you wanted to get Lena something. “I think, if you really want to get her something,” she continued, smiling as you perked up at her response. “You could do something small – like a … ugh, what’s the word …” She was so fluent in English you often forgot that it was technically her third language. “It’s small and fluffy; you give it to niñas,” she clicked frantically, clearly trying hard to remember. “Un oso de peluche,” she sighed, wracking her brain to remember the English word.
“A teddy bear?” You asked, helping her out slightly.
“Sí, sí, a teddy bear. You could get her one of those? It would be small enough for her to pack away when she travels, and it is something she can keep with her when she’s back in Germany.” You smiled at her suggestion – nodding happily at her words.
The day was finally here. You were finally seeing Lena again. Madrid airport was a little struggle to navigate but you stood, buzzing with excitement, as you waited at arrivals. You looked down at the goodies you had with you – a little bag filled with a very cute and very fluffy teddy bear, some Spanish sweets, and an iced coffee in your hand. You had also packed a few extra jumpers to sneak into Lena’s bag before she left.
L💚: Just got through passport control and stuff
L💚: I’ll be maybe 5/10 more mins
[Initial] ❤️💙: eeeeeeeeeeeeee
[Initial] ❤️💙: ok – I’m like right by the exit
[Initial] ❤️💙: turn left when u walk through it and im by the pillar post thingy
5 to 10 more minutes … you could do that. With every passing minute, your excitement and anticipation grew. It had been a long few months without Lena by your side. Yes, you texted every day; Yes, you Facetimed 5 times a week minimum; but seeing her in person, being able to hug her and hold her and kiss her and smell her and touch her and … you couldn’t be more excited.
“Hola, mi amor.” Very poorly pronounced Spanish whispered to you as strong, familiar arms wrapped around your waist.
“Lena,” you squealed, clearly having missed her walk up – far too much in your own head.
“mmmm, ich habe dich vermisst,” she sighed happily as you twisted in her grip to hug her tightly. She was warm and soft and smelt of cinnamon.
“I’ve mis- no, wait,” you cut yourself off. She tilted her head to the side, drawing back to look at you. “Ich habe dich auch so sehr vermisst,” you stumbled slightly but the big, wide grin on Lena’s face told you, you had said it right.
“Can I kiss you, Schatz?” she asked gently. You blinked slightly, not expecting her to ask you that in such a public space. “I, we, don’t have to. It’s just it’s been so long, and,” she rushed to get out, hating the fact that she had made you even the smallest bit uncomfortable.
“Liebe,” you cut her off, waiting until she looked at you before you continued. When her warm chocolate eyes met yours, you struggled not to float away in them. “Please, kiss me.” You smiled as she let out a breath of relief. You met halfway, and it was just as perfect as all the other kisses you two had shared, if not more so after such a long time apart.
“As …” she cleared her throat as she pulled away slightly. “As much as I want to continue. We should get going … but later, ich verspreche.” She vowed and picked her bag up off the floor. And extending her hand for you to take.
“No, wait, gimme that.” You gestured for her bag, forcing it from her when she hesitated to hand it over. “Also, these are for you,” you said with a proud smile, giving her the now slightly watery coffee and bag of goodies.
“Schatz, you shouldn’t have.” She began, but you shook your head, denying her the chance to complain. You stuck your tongue out at her, intertwined your fingers and pulled her towards the exit.
Taking the metro back to your hotel reminded you a lot of your first date. Lena looking slightly puzzled over the Spanish being spoken all around you. On your first date, you had shyly stood next to her, closer than two friends would be not enough to make her feel uncomfortable, and quietly translated a bit of the conversation between two girls nearby; you added the voices to differentiate between the two girls and jokingly copied any actions they did. This time, you let her lean against you, one arm sneaking around her waist to fiddle with the belt loops on her jeans and the other holding tightly onto the handrail. Her head dropped into your neck, muttering something in German.
“What was that, Liebe?” You asked softly, mindful that your mouth was quite close to her ear despite the busy train.
“Müde,” she said again into your neck. It took you a minute to sift through the German in your head. You pouted when you finally understood what she was saying. She was tired. That you could understand, travelling was difficult when you understood the language, let alone one where you landed in a country where the language was entirely different and almost no familiarity to yours. You pressed a chaste kiss to her hairline, hoping to comfort her a little.
“Naw,” you cooed. "It’s okay. We’re almost back to the hotel. We can have a nap if you want,” you pressed another kiss to her head. "But Alexia says she has to see you at some point tonight,” you reminded her.
“Forgot ‘bout Alexia,” she whined tiredly, her grip tightening on you.
“I’m sorry, Liebe. I promise she won’t be too harsh or scary. I know she can come off a bit..." you struggled for the right word. “Intense? But I promise she’s really sweet.”
You finally made it to your stop, and you filtered off the train, fingers laced together so neither of you got lost (mainly Lena, as she didn’t know a lick of Spanish). Just as you were walking up the steps outside, a flustered woman appeared next to you.
“Lamento mucho molestarte. Pero estoy intentando llegar al aeropuerto y tienes una maleta. Sabes cómo conseguirlos?” The flurry of Spanish through you off for a second as you had been conversing in English almost all day.
“No, no te preocupes en absoluto. Um, sólo necesitas …” As you explained the directions to the woman, Lena couldn’t help but watch in awe. She knew you could speak Spanish – you lived in Spain, you played for Barcelona, and she’d seen you talking in Spanish on the football pitch. Hell, the first time she had met you, you were finishing a conversation in Spanish with the film and media crews. It had done something to her then, and it was doing something to her now, too. She couldn’t understand a word of what you were saying, but the accent, the rapid words, the hand gestures, your kind smile … she suddenly wasn’t as tired as she felt on the train.
“Sorry, Liebe,” you said as you finished, waving to the woman as she sped down the steps towards the platform. She was asking about getting to the airport—she had seen your bag and guessed we had just come from there.” You explained, taking her (now slightly clammy) hand and leading her towards your hotel.
The hotel room was big and welcoming, a large bed in the centre with your things thrown haphazardly across it called to Lena as she walked through the door. She left her stuff by the wall and flopped heavily down, sighing at the softness that surrounded her. You looked at her from your vantage point by the door. Her top had ridden up, exposing her abs slightly, her biceps were on full display, and the veins in her arms rippled slightly as she twisted her fingers in the bedding underneath her. She was doing things to you – maybe it was because you hadn’t had sex a good few months (it was currently the longest you had ever gone without since you started having sex); maybe it was because she looked so at home amongst your things; perhaps it was the fact that your girlfriend was finally within touching distance. You also realised you didn’t quite care enough to figure it out.
“Incoming,” you yelled as you launched yourself at her.
“Oof,” she huffed, her breath leaving her body as your weight settled on top of her, both of you laughing quietly at your behaviour.
“Hi,” you smiled at her, arms either side of her head, legs straddling her hips.
“Hi,” she smiled back, lift her hands to stroke her thumbs across your exposed skin.
“I…” should you say it? “I’ve missed you,” you chicken out from what you really wanted to say. You knew you told her at the airport that you missed her, but you needed her to know just how much her absence affected you.
“I’m sorry.” She knew the distance was difficult for both of you. You shook your head, refusing to let her think that this was her fault.
“No, there’s nothing that can be done at the moment. I’m at Barca; you’re at Wolfsburg. It is what it is.” You shrugged, hoping it would ease her sadness a little. “But … you’re here now, we have this weekend. And that is all that matters.” You smiled, the wide, soft smile full of love and tenderness that only Lena got to see often. You felt rather than saw Lena crane her neck up to try to kiss you; your smile shifted into a cheeky grin as you pulled back just out of her reach. She stopped looking at you offendedly.
“Nuh, uh, uh,” you teased, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I...” You kiss her forehead. This was your chance. “Missed.” You kissed her cheek, backing out again. “You.” You kissed her other cheek.
“And I’ve missed you, Schatz.” Her hands left your waist, coming up to cradle your face, holding to exactly where she wanted. She waited a few moments, letting her eyes scan your face, trying to commit everything to memory (even though she had already done that well before you left Germany at New Year’s). “So much,” she whispered as she finally tugged you down to meet her lips.
The kiss started out slow, sweet and tender, as your love was poured into it. As you parted, her darkened eyes roamed your body, one hand cementing itself in your hair, tugging lightly as the other moved to trace along the waistband of your shorts. Your kisses weren’t a battle for dominance, but you were falling into a pattern of give and take that was uniquely yours. Your top was the first to come off, hers following not too long afterwards. Buttons were undone, drawstrings loosened and more clothing adding to the mess on the floor. Her hands grasped at any available flesh as your fingers slipped inside. Dark spots were bitten into supple skin, moans were melodies as you rediscovered each other.
“Don’t stop,” You panted into her skin as she guided you to the brink of ecstasy.
“Never,” came her reply, equally as breathless.
“What happened to being tired?” You laughed as she snuggled into your side, her once-eager fingers tracing light shapes into your skin. She groaned at your teasing, pressing more weight onto you. You fiddled with her hair as you waited for an explanation.
“Dein Spanisch. Mit dieser Dame am Bahnhof … Es hat etwas mit mir gemacht” You didn’t understand it fully. Spanish … train station? You were a little confused.
“Sorry, I got something about my Spanish and the lady at the train station. What was the last bit?” You were trying to learn German, but you had started with the most practical things – the greetings, stuff that happened in daily life, cheesy lines you could say to Lena to make her blush.
“Um … it’s a bit embarrassing, really … you were speaking Spanish to that lady at the station,” she blushed profusely. You just smiled, letting your fingers comb through the mess her hair had become. “Es war wirklich sexy.” Your grin doubled in size. So, you speaking Spanish turned her on? That was useful to know.
“Well,” you said after a moment of silence. “If me giving directions to the airport is sexy, you should hear me when I say something truly seductive,” you teased, squeezing her gently as she buried her head in your neck again.
“Mmmm, déjame pensar. Cuando llegue a casa, debo acordarme de llamar al administrador del edificio.” You laughed as you felt her blush, the new heat obvious against your skin. You also couldn’t help but notice the slight shift of Lena’s hips against your thigh. “Liebe, I just said I needed to call my building manager – that is not sexy.” She pulled away from your skin.
“Uh, everything you do is sexy,” she countered. “Say something else? Something that’s actually hot,” she begged, ignoring your teasing smile, and raised eyebrow.
“Hm, vale, vale,” you wracked your brains, trying to think of something that you actually considered sexual. “Quiero que me tengas en todas las formas que quieras. Quiero destrozarte una y otra y otra vez.” You usually weren’t that explicit about your wants, but you were reliant on Lena not really knowing what you were saying.  Lena was gobsmacked. She had not a clue what you had just said but the way you had said it – the slight rasp in your voice, the rosy hue to your skin, the sticky sheen of sweat, the hickeys she had sucked into your skin. She rolled you over, balancing above you as her legs slotted between yours.
“Redonda Dos?” You asked. She knew enough Spanish for that.
Just as things were getting interesting again, your door swung up.
“Y/N? ¿Estás aquí? Ale te ha estado enviando mensajes de texto toda la tar -” Ona cut herself off with a shrill scream.
“Me arden los ojos.” She gagged dramatically. “Ew, mis ojos.”
“Oni, qué carajo en realidad?” You shouted back, dragging the duvet up to cover the both of you.
“Do you want to introduce me?” She grinned evilly.
“No, get out!” You glowered at her. When she made no effort to move, you threw a pillow at her.
“Ale says to come to her room.” You flicked your finger at her, letting her know your displeasure. Turning uour attention was fixed back on Lena, you heard her cackling outside.
“Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße. Alexia wird mich töten. Ich bin tot. Ich werde sterben. Ich hatte praktisch Sex mit ihrer kleinen Schwester. Oh, mein Gott. Ich werde sterben. Fuck.” Lena was panicking – real, genuine anxiety spread throughout her chest as she sat up against the pillows.
“Liebe, it’s ok,” you soothed, grabbing one hand in yours and swinging your other arm across her shoulders. “Liebe?” you tried again.
“Alexia is going to kill me.” Lena said, looking into your eyes for what she genuinely thought might be the final time.
“No, she won’t.” You smiled softly, not wanting to laugh at Lena’s ridiculousness. “I won’t let her,” you vowed, squeezing her hand tight in promise. “Now, we should probably get some clothes on and head to Ale’s room.”
As you reached for your hoodie, your world darkened suddenly as fabric landed on your head. You lifted it up to reveal a very familiar Adidas hoodie, turning back to see a sheepish Lena.
“How did that get there?” She asked innocently.
“I don’t know, Liebe. How did it get there?” You played along. “There’s only one Adidas athlete in this room, and it’s not me.” She shrugged, snatching your Barca hoodie out of your reach.
“I don’t know, Schatz. But it looks like it’s your only hoodie, and I want you to stay warm.” She was a terrible actor.
“If you wanted me to wear your clothes, you could have just asked,” you laughed as you slipped on the material, getting slightly lost as you tried to find the head hole. You heard a sigh and footsteps before the fabric was rearranged on you as your head burst through the top.
“Guten Tag,” you beamed at her.
“Hallo, Schatz,” she smiled at you before stealing a kiss. You hummed gently, allowing yourself to melt into her just slightly.
“Vamos, vamos.” You spun her around to face the door. “Let’s not keep Ale waiting,” you laughed and tapped her on the bum to get her moving.
Alexia’s room was exactly the same as yours – a wide, comforting bed with a mountain of pillows dominating the space. You tapped on the door, knowing that she would probably have at least 3 of the other girls in her room with her.
“Schatz, I know I said I would endure this for you … for us,” Lena said when it was clear Alexia was making you wait a little. Was she second guessing this? Was she regretting you? “And I will, I will.” She added when your head snapped back to look at her. “But I’m really freaking out here.” You softened.
“Oh, Liebe. It’s ok,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “I understand, really, I do. This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to meet Ale, but I promise you,” you squeezed her to emphasise your point. “She’s a giant softy with a tendency for affectionate bullying. If she starts speaking in Catalan, just ignore her; that’s what I do,” you joked, trying to lighten her mood a little. “She’s just like Alex and Svenja are to you. She’s just looking out for me – even though I don’t need her to and certainly not in this case,” you were rambling now, unknowingly easing Lena’s anxieties in an instant.
Someone cleared their throat behind you, cutting your talking off. Lucy. You smiled at her, pushing past as you guided Lena to sit on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in both of yours when you sat next to her – providing quiet but noticeable support. There were more people in the room than you were expecting. You knew Alexia would call on Lucy, Irene and probably Paños and Marta to give the talk, but Ingrid’s presence surprised you, as did Ona’s and Patri’s.
“Entonces, quieres presentarnos a Lena?” Alexia asked, leaning against the desk in front of you, Paños on her left, Lucy on her right. Irene and Marta stood blocking the path to the door – all of them with what they thought were tough expressions on their faces. Ingrid looked annoyed to be there, Ona was trying to look hard, and Patri had an amused smile dancing on her lips.
“In English, Alexia. It’s not fair on Lena to speak in a language she doesn’t know.” You said calmly, breathing deeply to keep your emotions in check. They had promised not to treat you like a child.
“Do you want to introduce us to Lena?” She asked again, voice artificially calm.
“Not if you’re going to treat us like children.” You raised an eyebrow, reminding all of them of their promises to treat you more adult-like.
“That was before we found out you were having sex,” Lucy started. She stood up from where she was leaning, you matching her behaviour by squaring your shoulders.
“Suficiente, vosotros dos.” Alexia ordered before you had the chance to comment. As much as she wanted to give a protective big sister talk, she realised that maybe this was what you meant when you said that you wanted to be treated more like an adult. It was silent as she studied you and Lena – sitting so close you were practically on top of each other, your thumb never wavering in its soothing motion against the back of Lena’s hand, the way Lena’s eyes kept flitting back to your face in search of any discomfort. She didn’t need to do the grandiose speech she was planning to give – she didn’t need to let every one of the older girls chime in with their threats. If Lena harmed you, Lena wouldn’t harm you – of that, Alexia was sure. “Everyone out. Not you or Lena,” she said as you shifted to leave. “Ona, quédate también por favor.” Alexia ignored the other’s protests; Lucy’s whining was heard even with the door closed. She had allowed Ona to stay in her role as your best friend – she wasn’t about to deny her this opportunity (especially since she knew you had promised Lucy you would exact a painful revenge if Ona ever came to you crying over something about their relationship).
“Lena. I am going to say this one time,” Alexia began, watching as Lena’s eyes grew wide and gulped noticeably. You just rolled your eyes at her antics. “If you hurt her,” she paused for dramatic effect. “I will hunt you down … and end you.” Alexia was quite pleased with herself – she considered that to be restrained enough to appease you whilst instilling enough fear in Lena to make her slightly nervous. Lena nodded, taking a breath to start making promises of never ever hurting you.
Ona cleared her throat from her perch on the windowsill, drawing all of your attention to her. She took a deep breath before letting out the sentence she had been practising since you first mentioned a German footballer had caught your eye, “Ich werde dir die Beine brechen.” The pronunciation was horrendous, but Lena knew what she meant. It was the worst threat Ona could think of with Lena being a footballer.
“Oni,” you whined, although you had no leg to stand on – your threat to Lucy had been so much worse.
“There, we have said what was needed to be said. Let’s go to dinner, sí?” Alexia smiled at the three of you, the polar opposite of the menacing Captain that stood in her place moments before. Ona laughed, looping her arm through Alexia’s and heading to the door.
“That wasn’t so bad,” You joked, nudging Lena. The tension was still very much in her body, however.
“I need them to know, and you need to know it too. I won’t hurt you, ever, Schatz. I promise, ich verspreche, prometo.” She looked deep into your eyes, willing you to understand how deep her vow went. She made the promise to herself in the shower after your first date; her mind kept replaying your almost-kiss, your bubbly laugh and the feel of your soft hand in hers. She had vowed that day to never let your smile fade, and she wanted … no, needed … you to know that.
“Liebe, I know that. They know that.” You reached up to cradle her face in your hands. You took a deep breath and said the words that had been playing on your mind for weeks now: “I love you.”
I hope you liked it <3<3<3
686 notes · View notes
berryz-writes · 4 months
Text
Perfectly serious
Summary: Matheo's jealousy and want for you increases after seeing you with Theo to the point where he finally/kind of confesses
Matheo Riddle x reader
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His arm wrapped around my waist, bringing me even closer to him. "Come on, let's get you to bed" Theo murmured. I looked up at him confused "I'm not drunk". My head might feel light and I might feel extremely happy and sad at the same time but I was most definitely not drunk.
"Yes you are" He took my hand and led me away from the groups of people dancing together, taking his time to weave us in and around the drinks being passed around. Everyone gave me a smile as I left, Pansy giving me a wink as we passed "I bet he fucks good. Have fun babe!" She said, her words slurring slightly, her voice loud enough for Theo to hear. Maybe if he heard it he would act on it. I wouldn't mind getting in bed with him.
We soon reached my room, the music faded to a low sound coming from below us and the lights softer than the harsh party lights of before.
"Well...night y/n" Theo said.
"You know" I started, my voice low and sultry. "I wouldn't mind if you joined me, made things more interesting. Hm?" I tilted my head waiting for his answer, his eyes searching my face. For what I didn't know.
He gave me a soft smile "Your drunk. And when drunk, your ideas aren't really your own. So as much as I'd like to follow through with your idea, it's best you get some sleep"
I rolled my eyes at him being who he always was. I wished for once he would push the boundaries. "Fine. Night Theo"
"Sweet dreams" He dropped my hand and waited for me to close the door. I could hear his receding footsteps, probably to go up to his own dorm. I was relieved in a way. Maybe I wasn't actually ready to fuck him and it was just the alcohol making me want something more. We were good friends. I didn't want to ruin that for something that I didn't really want. Chocolate brown eyes crossed my mind. Curly hair that would feel so nice running my hands through-. Something that would never happen.
*Potions the next day*
"I didn't see you yesterday" I said to Matheo referring to the party yesterday. Stirring in the crushed up leaves into the steaming potion, I turned to look at him, his eyes were icy and cold as if I had done some personal wrong against him.
"Of course you didn't. You were too busy trying to estimate your chances with Theo. Heads up, princess. He has higher standards"
I ignored the nickname that would usually make me swoon and instead my mouth opened in shock. How fucking rude of him. Was he ok?
"Are you being serious right now?" I stopped stirring the potion and crossed my arms. I could take a joke but come on. He had taken it too far.
"Perfectly serious. Why? Did you think I was nice?" He stood up to tower over me, his minty scent washing over me. His chocolate brown eyes were like daggers into my soul. It hurt knowing someone I was good friends with could switch up so fast.
"No actually, I didn't. Your just like everyone says you are. You get with a girl for your own pleasure, lead her on and then leave her with a broken heart. Your a rude fucking asshole and nothing more"
His jaw clenched at what I said, waiting for me to say anything else. I didn't actually mean it but I would never let anyone disrespect me and not expect anything back.
I realised soon how close we were. If only he were to move slightly closer, I could have tipped my head upwards and kissed him. The fact that I was thinking about that even though he had insulted me was annoying for me. I shouldn't still like him. Not anymore.
"You really mean that?" His voice came out soft, his jaw no longer clenched. As if he understood what I had said. I hesitated. Of course I didn't. How could I? I liked him for fucks sake.
I sighed "I don't know"
He sat back down as if he were tired of our argument. As if he didn't want to argue with me.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said-"
"Let's just forget about it. Ok?" I didn't want to argue either. Maybe he was angry and took it out on me. Fine. I would give him a pass just this once seen as though we were such good friends. (If only we were more than that)
He nodded his head and we worked in silence for the next few minutes. Until he cleared his throat and looked toward me again "Listen y/n. I don't want us to ruin our...friendship for something I've said so let me treat you. Will you be free to come to the diner at eight?"
I paused and raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly "Are you asking me on a date or just as friends?" Confident of me to ask but I wanted to know where we stood.
After a pause he replied with "I'd be happy with either, as long as it's with you"
I thought about my next question "And if I want it to be a date?" I asked quietly.
He smiled "I was hoping you'd say that, princess"
488 notes · View notes
lynk-zee · 4 months
Note
hey lynnie,
Ok so there's this tweet "(my gf can) dress slutty I can fight" by a guy right. I don't necessarily think he means dress slutty on purpose but like if his gf wants to express her fashion in a more sensual way, he supports and defends her right to do so. Could you do a scenario where MC/reader know she looks good and flaunts it and the lads don't mind? They're also willing to step in and remind any entitled creep to stay in their place. I'm really curious to see Rafayel's thoughts on this but all would be great.
“Dress Slutty, I Can Fight.”
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Rafayel always wants you to feel good about yourself. He’ll buy you lavish jewelry, designer clothes, and ask you to give him a fashion show so he can see them on you. That being said, fashionable clothes sometimes is less about the type of fabric and more about the lack there of. And he’s here for it! He walks with you on his arm with pride, wearing whatever you want, flaunting your assets, and strutting your stuff. He thinks you’re gorgeous, like a work of art! And art is meant to be admired.
Though, when it comes to creeps checking you out longer than appropriate, he gets a bit protective. If he notices someone checking out your ass in that skimpy little outfit of yours, he cop a squeeze, smirking right at the perp. As if saying “look what I have that you don’t”
If his glare doesn’t deter the creep from looking at you, Rafayel will call him out in front of everyone.
“Do you mind? I know my partners hot as fuck but keep your eyes to yourself, damn!”
Usually it doesn’t escalate from there, the perp feeling thoroughly embarrassed from being called out like that in public. But if it does, Rafayel will handle it.
“It’s okay, babe. I can fight”
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Zayne absolutely loves spoiling you with the money he makes as a surgeon. Which mostly consists of clothes! Whatever you want, just point and he’ll get you it every color. Absolutely loves when you dress however you want. His main goal in life is for you to live as comfortably as possible. So if looking all dolled up in pretty makes you happy, go for it!
When you’re dressed up, he’d always have his hand on the small of your back, guiding you this way and that under his careful watch. He’s gotta keep his baby safe. If someone is staring at you for two long, they’d be frozen solid by Zayne’s evol.
Just kidding. More like frozen solid by his icy glare. Much like Rafayel, Zayne would make it public because he knows that most people will get intimidated by a large crowd.
“Could you not stare at my partner? We are trying to enjoy our night out.”
If the creeps too persistent, he’ll clench his jaw and place his jacket on you.
“Sorry, dear— could you give me a moment? That man over there seems like he wants to talk.”
Zaddy
In all seriousness, Zayne really wouldn’t resort to violence because he has standards to uphold. But he definitely would stand his ground and tell the creep off. Your comfort is his utmost priority. He won’t let some filth make you feel self-conscious.
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Xavier’s all for your slutty era. You look beautiful, he’s enjoying the view, it’s a win-win in his books. What he doesn’t enjoy is the amount of unwanted attention you garner when you dress up. Yes, it’s not your fault that you’re beautiful, he would never fault you for that. He’s just sick of the guys staring as if they have the right to. Absolutely not.
So, he marks the shit out of you. Your neck is covered in hickeys, branding you as his. They can look all they want, but with his arm around your waist and his marks on your neck, you’re his and his only. Wear less, he doesn’t care. He’ll just make sure his hand print on your ass peaks out from under your shorts.
If it gets too bad, we know Xavier would step in right away to stop it. He’s pretty blunt without meaning to, so when it’s intentional—sorry to any guy who even breathes in your direction. Sometimes you have to step in though because you know it’s game over if Xavier swings. But Xav will always protect you, so dress however you want. He just wants you to be happy.
“Ignore those creeps, my love. I’ll take care of it.
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formulawolff · 11 days
Text
i. girls like u - t.w.
pairing: reserve female!driver x toto wolff
word count: 2.1k
warnings: morally gray individuals, slow burn, sexual content (intercourse), allusions to sexual content, cursing, marijuana use, references to alcohol use, lots of power imbalance, questionable boss x employee dynamics, light toxicity
a/n: ok this is my semi-return to tumblr after a writing hiatus. this fic is loosely based off of you by the 1975 and several blackbear songs. sorry if this shit is ass. i promise there is more world-building to come in the next chapters (it's been a while since i've wrote somethin' longer than 500 words) lemme know if y'all like it! i missed y'all! <3
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─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆:
“aren’t you tired?”
fingertips brush along your back, light and gentle. stirring, you blink, stifling a yawn and you nuzzle into the warmth. 
it’s inviting, your lids drooping the moment the tip of your nose brushes along heated skin. a plush comforter shrouds your body, limbs entwined. watery rays of light peek in through drawn blinds, promising of dawn. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆:
“you wore me out. of course i’m tired.”
there’s a rumble in his chest, adam’s apple bobbing as he chuckles, “no, that’s not what i meant.”
“then what did you mean?” bringing your chin upward, your gaze locks with his. 
he flinches slightly at the harshness of your inquiry, a crimson hue tinging his cheeks, “i-i don’t really know. i-i guess i meant to ask if you were tired of watching everyone compete from the paddock. don’t you want to race as well?”
don’t you want to race as well? 
of course i do. every single fucking grand prix i pray that i’ll finally get a chance to be behind the wheel. 
to prove to everyone that i’m just as worthy of a competitor as lewis or george. that i am capable of finishing a race. 
i pray that i finally get a chance to prove that i’m a champion. 
inhaling sharply, your head falls, avoiding any sort of eye contact, “i mean, yeah. of course i want to race. i want to compete just as much as you do, max.”
“i’m sorry if–”
“it’s fine,” you murmur, finding your body clinging to him, head nestling into his chest underneath the covers, “can we just go back to sleep or–”
he exhales, lips connecting with your temple. they trail along your brow bone, placing gentle kisses all the way down to your cheeks, “you know we can’t. it’s qualifying today.”
“right.” your jaw clenches, “there’s nothing more important than qualifying.”
“hey,” fingers grasp your chin, “are you okay?”
“yup,” you nod, “i’m great.”
concern lingers, swimming in his icy blue depths. his tongue darts out, swiping along his lower lip, “you and i both know that’s a lie.”
shrugging, your lips pucker, “maybe i’m just not looking forward to watching everyone chase their dreams while i’m forced to sit on the sidelines.”
in that moment, you sense his demeanor shift. max softens, his muscles relaxing as a hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone, “you know, we could change that.”
your heart thuds, pounding as blood roars in your ears, “how?”
he leans in, his mouth nearly millimeters from yours, “i could pull some strings.”
“and how would you accomplish that?”
max’s voice is low as he continues, his tone laced with a dominance that you rarely heard beyond radios, interviews, or press conferences. it was quite the contrast than the max you were used to. it had you absolutely reeling, scrambling to maintain your composure as a shiver ran down your spine.  
“i could speak with christian, put in a good word for you. there’s a lot of change that’s going to come within these next few months. checo hasn’t resigned quite yet. the contract isn’t finalized there’s still time to get you in at red bull.”
“y-you would do that for me?”
the dutch driver nods, a little too fervently. 
“i would do anything for you.”
there was a sincerity in his words, almost as if it was a promise. a sure one, at that. a promise brimmed with a passion that you could only describe as one emotion. 
love.
you had him right where you wanted him. 
max verstappen, three-time world champion of formula one, was right at your fingertips. the dutch assassin was poised and eager, ready to fire as soon as he was given the word. 
all you had to do was say yes. 
that’s all you had to do. utter those nine words. 
i want to be with you at red bull. i want to be in that second seat.
yet, there was one thing holding you back.
well, more so a culmination of things. 
one, there was that ever-present gnawing, nagging feeling. the guilt was slowly eating you alive, threatening to spill your precious secret at any given moment. two, there was that fear of the unknown. what would happen if you managed to pull this off? would you truly be happy at red bull or were you just trying to worm your way to the top? would that shiny trophy really be worth it if you weren’t fulfilled? 
and well most importantly, the third aspect of it all. would you be able to keep up the facade that you were just friends with max verstappen? it was only a matter of time before your relationship with the dutch driver would come from the shadows and into the light.
it was so much easier to keep things under wraps when no one paid attention to you. 
“max,” you begin, “maybe we should–”
the shrill ring of his phone pierces through the air. leaning over, he plucks the device off the nightstand, grimacing as his eyes scan the contact. 
“it’s christian.”
“what time is it?” you press, “surely it’s not that la–”
“baby, it’s well past eight.”
“shit.” you shoot up, peeling the comforter off, “why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
max follows in suit, shoving a leg through his pants, “cause we were in the middle of an important conversation. i wasn’t going to just interrupt you to tell you i had to leave. that wouldn’t have been fair to you!”
“right,” you scoff, throwing on a hoodie, “you don’t have to act like i’m more important than racing. you live, breathe, eat, and sleep formula one. and i understand tha–”
lips collide with yours, the kiss nearly sucking the breath out of your lungs. it’s fiery, blazing with hunger as your knees buckle. max pulls away, panting ever so slightly. 
“don’t you ever fucking say that. you hear me?”
“yes.”
shaking his head, he makes his way across the room, smoothing out a wrinkle in his jersey before slipping on a shoe, “you mean the world to me. we can talk more about this later, but i really have to go. christian is blowing up my phone asking where i am. fuck. i really hope that no one sees me. do you have a hoodie or something i can borrow?”
crossing over to your makeshift closet, you file through the hangers, pulling a garment off. tossing the sweatshirt to max, you can’t help but giggle at his haphazard state. 
his blonde locks are all over, clearly ruffled from a long night. his clothes are wrinkly, bunched up from being thrown to the floor. the only saving grace is his red bull cap, along with the hoodie you just provided. 
however, the moment he sees the embroidered logo, he rolls his eyes. 
“really?”
“just make sure you take it off before you see christian. and put on some deodorant when you get the chance. you stink,” wrinkling your nose, you blow the dutch driver a kiss as he waves you off. 
yet, he catches the airborne smooch, returning the gesture, “i’ll text you later baby. i lo– i have to really go now. have a good day, all right?”
“i’ll try my best,” you reply, buttoning a pair of jeans, “you know i won’t be doing much.”
“goodbye love!” his voice carries down the hall as he exits your motorhome, the sound of the door echoing throughout the space. 
well, so much for making progress.
there’s a buzz in your pocket, stealing your focus for just a second.
fishing your phone out, your brow furrows. no one really contacted you in the mornings. well, unless it was an emergency or an urgent matter. 
it was a text message, from a sender you were well acquainted with.
it was none other than sir lewis hamilton. eight-time world champion. one of the greatest athletes of all time. 
who just happened to be your fellow teammate. well, fellow teammate and best friend.
who knew that formula one contracts came with a package deal like that?
where art thou, sweet girl? i fear that our team principal is going absolutely mad because you are running very behind. pls hurry before he starts going in on me for being on my phone during a team briefing. 
your thumbs glide across the screen, crafting a careful response.
sorryyyyyy. running late per usual. perks of being in the reserve, right? i’ll be there in like five minutes. 
the reply was instant, phone vibrating once more.
hurry up. toto is pissed. 
gritting your teeth, you shove your phone back into your pocket. luckily, you had packed your go-bag for race weekends the night before. well, before you got preoccupied with max. slipping on a heavier coat, you push through your bedroom door, making your way down the hall. 
exiting your motorhome, you spin on your heel, throwing up the hood as you navigate through the endless maze of the paddock. 
you would think after six months you would know your way around by now.
members of the crew and hospitality chirp greetings and good mornings, earning a mumble here and there in response. graciously, you accept a wellness shot from one of the hosting staff, in hopes that it would perk you up just a tad. 
eventually, you nudge open the door of the briefing room, keeping your head ducked as you settle into your designated seat, lewis spotting you. from across the space, he shoots you a thumbs up, paired with a precious grin, dimples and all. 
the second you slide on your headphones, a voice floods your ears.
it’s brassy and gruff, thick with annoyance, brimmed with that accent you were all too familiar with. 
“good morning, hase. i’m so glad that you could take the time out of your busy schedule and join us this morning.”
it was none other than toto wolff, team principal of mercedes amg petronas.
your boss. 
looking up, you notice him to your far right, perched in his seat. his gaze is lasered in on you, almost piercing. with his brows furrowed and lips wound tightly shut, you couldn’t quite distinguish the emotion plastered across his features.
was it anger? disappointment? sheer and utter regret?
“good morning, toto,” you grumble, heat flooding your cheeks as snickers bubble up from all around.
“as i was saying,” toto clears his throat, “i think that we need a new approach for the remainder of the weekend. clearly george isn’t feeling up to par, so we need to explore our options.”
“i could drive,” george russell, your other teammate coughs, “i want to ra–”
“i don’t think pushing you to your limit is an intelligent idea,” toto cuts in. the words are firm, the team principal continuing, “let’s face it, with ferrari and mclaren in the mix this season, we are desperate for points. we need to make a strong move this weekend or else we are going to fall behind. even more so than we already are.”
the voices trail off as your mind wanders, your focus dissipating by the second. typically, you never paid too much attention to the briefings anyway. after all, they did not pertain to you. they usually were directed at the engineers, strategists, george, and lewis. 
not like you needed to really pay attention too closely. you were just kind of there. a body in the room.
the backup plan. 
fuck, did that absolutely torture you. so much potential wasted. all of your blood, sweat, and tears poured into nearly two decades of racing just to end up fiddling with a loose thread of your hoodie as a room full of men bickered about who would fill a fucking seat. 
some fall from grace this was. the 2023 formula two champion reduced to a reserve driver simply because no other team would take her. 
after all, you couldn’t really complain too much. this was the life you chose. you were the one who ultimately made the choice to sign to mercedes for a two-year contract. 
after all, it was your dream to drive for mercedes.
“here’s what we should do,” toto’s voice seeps into your headphones once more, snapping you out of your dazed state, “we should utilize our reserve driver. what is the point of having a reserve driver and not utilizing her?”
“toto,” bono’s voice chimes in, “i’m not sure if–”
“bono,” the fierceness in lewis’ tone takes you aback, “this is what’s best for the team. as a whole. we cannot give it our all if we don't have healthy drivers.”
“george,” toto turns to the british driver, “what do you think? do you have any input?”
“i don’t disagree,” george shrugs, the words hoarse, “i want to be healthy for saudi arabia.”
“then it’s settled,” the team principal shifts towards you, his lips curling into a smug smirk as his arms fold across his chest.
“i think that it’s time for our little hase here to really show us what she is capable of.” 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆:
taglist: @sweetjellyfishland @ts1m1kas @bxuzi @racecardilfs
lemme know if you would like to be tagged for future chapters! <3
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hypewinter · 1 year
Text
Bruce carefully approached the child playing by himself in the park. The child giggled as they played with chalk, the sidewalk illuminated by a single street lamp.
"What are you drawing?" he said softly, not wanting to alarm them.
The child turned, revealing themself to be a little boy, no older than 5. He had raven black hair and icy blue eyes. Bruce could practically already hear Oracle snickering on the other end of the comms. She had probably already taken a snapshot of the boy through his visor and posted to the batkids group chat which contrary to popular belief, he did know about. Bruce sighed internally. He'd never hear the end of it when he got home. Especially if he had the kid in tow. Let's hope that didn't happen.
"Hello Batman!" a cheery voice broke him out of his thoughts. "I'm drawing a gargaggle!"
Bruce refocused on the boy who showed no signs of fear. He didn't even look surprised which was strange to say the least. "A gargaggle? Do you mean gargoyle?"
The boy furrowed his brows for a bit before piping up again. "I do! It's such a funny word. I can never get it right."
"I know the feeling," Bruce said, crouching down next to the boy. "Sometimes I struggle with words too."
The boy's eyes went wide as if he couldn't believe the Batman struggled with words. "Say-" Bruce started, "-it's pretty late out are your parents nearby?"
The boy shook his head. "No, I don't have parents," he said as he went back to doodling.
Ok Bruce don't freak out just yet. "Oh, then do you have a guardian of sorts? Like an older sibling, or another family member? Like an aunt or grandparent?"
The boy shook his head again. "Nope. Oh! But I do have a friend. She's very nice and gives me lots of gifts and special things."
Alright, he could work with that. Maybe this 'friend' was the kid's guardian and he just didn't realize it yet. That could happen if he was put in their care recently. Bruce cleared his throat to get the boy to look up at him again. "Do you know where your friend is right now?" he asked.
The boy smiled wide. " 'course I do! She's right over there!" As he spoke, he pointed to a clutter of trees, just to his left. "She really loves you and your family," he said. "She's shy though, so she hid when she saw you coming."
"I see," Bruce replied as he got up. "Well maybe I can convince her to come out." He walked over to where the boy had pointed and pulled apart the bushes, hoping to find a woman who he could talk to about the dangers of wandering around at night. Instead he found nothing.
Bruce heard a giggle from behind him. "That's not where she is silly," he said.
"But that's what you-"
"She's not in the bushes, she's in the shadows. She's really good at hide and seek you know. Once we were playing and she hid in the shadows. Then she snuck up behind me from another shadow. It was really unfair! I never win hide and seek or tag against her," the boy said, starting to pout.
She's in the shadows? A meta? And one with a similar power set to Signal no less. Hmmmm.
Bruce began making his way back to the boy. "Then where is she right now?" he asked.
The boy shrugged, as he returned to his drawing once again. "I don't know. Sometimes she leaves and doesn't return for days. Since you're around, I don't think she's coming back for a while."
Great, just great. He had managed to scare off a little boy's only guardian in the middle of the night. Good going Bruce. he chided himself. He crouched down next to the boy again. "Do you know how to get home? Maybe we can wait for your friend there."
The boy turned to Bruce again. "Sure do!" he said, puffing out his chest. " 'cause I'm a big boy and big boys know how to get home on their own." he recited.
That was another point for the growing concerning information checklist. "Okay let's go wait for her then."
The boy's face dropped as he looked longingly at his gargoyle drawing. For a moment, Bruce thought he would have to bribe the kid with a lollipop but instead he held up his arms to be carried. "Okay," he said solemnly.
Bruce exhaled in relief as he picked up the boy. After pulling out his grappling gun he turned to the boy. "Where to...." Shit. Had he really forgotten to ask for the kid's name?
The boy in question didn't seem all too bothered by that fact. "Danny," he answered seamlessly. "And it's that way." Bruce aimed his grappling gun and off they went.
----
It took Danny all of two directions before he was out like a light. Bruce sighed, switching directions. Yep, he would truly never hear the end of it.
Next
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vulpes115 · 6 months
Text
Narcissa, specifically the Marauder’s fandom take on her, makes me want to sob and I need her to be appreciated more. Just, imagine you are the third daughter of parents that only wanted sons. A flower in a sky full of stars. A flower, an object only meant to be looked upon and be pretty. You know your parents never loved you, will never love you, you who is not the long awaited son they asked for. But even still, you can’t help pushing yourself to fulfill the mold they expect from you, beautiful and perfect. But even still you receive love from your family, just in the form of your older sisters. Your eldest who tries so fiercely to protect you and your sister but is clearly starting to slip into insanity. The middle starting to slip away, finding comfort in a man who’s kind you were poisoned to hate. Still, you love them. No matter what you love them, you have so little else. The only other one you have is your baby cousin, made in the same mold as you, who you try so desperately to protect.
At Hogwarts you are expected to be a good mark on your family, prefect, ace student and quidditch player. Willing to drop it all as soon as graduation to be a wife and mother. You only let yourself break the rules once, for her, the one decision you made that goes against your family wishes, the girl whose kisses taste like powdered sugar, whose natural kindness and beauty shines like a candle in your otherwise dark life. For years you let yourself indulge it. For years you pretend. But you know it must end.
The end comes quicker than thought. Your middle sister comes to you, she’s going to elope with her own secret love, she’s going to escape the family and the rot it contains. She asks if you want to come with. You want so badly to say yes. But you have been the perfect daughter for so long, being anything else scares you. So you say no. So you close the door. So you marry the fiancée that sister left behind. So you accept it when your lover breaks up with you, unwilling to be just a mistress. So you tell yourself you’re better without her, all the while knowing you will never find love like her again. Never stop loving her. You say as much when your cousin asks you if it ever gets better, heartbroken over his own Gryffindor. But still you made your choices and well, your fiancée is…fine, as pure-blood men go. He loves you but you don’t love him, can’t ever love him but you’re ok playing your part, even if it’s never him you picture when you play it, not even on your wedding night.
Before you know it, war is at your doorstep. Your eldest, no, only sister and your husband both pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord. So does your youngest, no, only cousin. Your cousin, so young, so naive. He dies, you never find the body, he was only eighteen and you couldn’t do anything to protect him. And the only person you ever loved? Well when you first realized she was going to be fighting on the opposing side you figured she’d be ok. Her and her new husband were powerful, well respected aurors, true Gryffindors, if anybody was going to be ok it was them. You were wrong, oh so wrong. Death would have been kinder with the fate they suffered. A fate brought on by your sister. The only one you ever loved as much as the love of your life. A love now only matched by hate.
You watch as your sister is dragged off in shackles, trying to hide any expression behind an icy mask. You watch as your lover looks back at you with distant lifeless eyes, eyes that don’t recognize you. You visit as often as you can but it’s hard to get away from your duty as mother and wife, even harder to see your lover permanently near death like this. You don’t mean to, but you stop visiting as often.
You only have one thing left to hold on to now, your son. Your darling boy. As a second war fast approaches you fear for him. You saw what happened to your cousin, you fear history is doomed to repeat itself. You do everything you can, extract whatever vows are needed, you do not believe you can survive if he too is taken from you. Then the pivotal moment comes. You have no idea if your son is alive or dead, but the chosen one is lying on the ground and he tells you he’s alive. In that moment you make a choice, you lie, you lie to the most powerful man alive, you lie to a mind reader, you lie to save your son, and you never admit it to yourself but you lie to avenge your lover he stole the sanity of, your cousin he stole the life from, and your sister he stole the soul of.
When the war is over, your action lets your family escape consequences. For the first time since the war began, you find the courage to come and visit your old lover. You apologize for not visiting more, and tell her about your sons, how her son had finished what she started, how your son had done what you never could. It takes several years longer until you make a visit to a different ghost of your past, knock cautiously on the door, a door opened by your sister, a woman you haven’t seen in almost thirty years. Things are awkward at first, of course they are, she is resistant, she’s lost so much to this war and she is slow to trust again, but eventually you two are having a heart to heart over tea, apologizing to each other about old wrongs. It’s not much, but it’s a start. As for your boy, he finds comfort in, of all people, the chosen one, the boy your whole family was supposed to hate, the boy who you helped save the life of. You are glad he is happy, you saw how miserable he was during the war. But a small part of you can’t help but feel envious, that this is a happiness that you could’ve experienced, that your cousin could’ve experienced, if you had made different choices, better choices, found your voice earlier, instead of being left with just an empty shell. Still, you made those choices, had made your bed, and now you must lie in it. But, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, if you get to see your son smile, if you get to hold your grandchildren, if you get to see your sister for monthly tea, if you get to hold your old lover’s hand once in awhile and pretend for just a minute that everything turned out ok between you two.
That’s something your parents didn’t know when they named you after a daffodil, that even after a harsh cold winter, they can make a comeback.
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agendabymooner · 7 months
Text
icy in saudi ! oliver b. x ofc (raikkonen!driver!ofc)
summary: romania ‘(a)roma’ raikkonen, now one of aston martin’s reserve and development drivers, became an f1 wag overnight after ollie turned out to be carlos sainz’s substitute for the saudi arabian grand prix.
AND she also had her personal ‘reverse harem’ aka the boys that kimi feared to have around the icegirl.
content warning: use of explicit language, establish relationship, brief mentions of kimi raikkonen, dad!kimi, f2 drivers appearance + banters, brief sexual innuendo, tweets, crack fic, 2024 saudi arabian grand prix, oc!raikkonen brother jo raikkonen (face claim: conrad laursen), kimi antonelli and ofc’s sister bantering
note: this guy goated as hell. here’s some content that ppl asked for 😭😭 it’s not much but enjoy regardless xx
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
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2024 — ROUND 2, SAUDI ARABIAN GP
BREAKING NEWS: Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz hospitalized and underwent appendectomy. He is now replaced by reserve driver, Oliver Bearman, for this race.
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SAUDI ARABIAN GP, POST-RACE
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tagged olliebearman
liked by theopourchaire21, arthur_leclerc, frederikvestiofficial
user1 the way you called in sick as a reserve driver just to support ollie 😭😭 i want that
rooraikkonen goated ferrari driver after kimi raikkonen 🙌 liked by romaraikkonen
veracoparaikko splendid job today, ollie! liked by romaraikkonen
kimimatiasraikkonen well done, ollie 👍 liked and pinned by romaraikkonen
romaraikkonen pinning this so he can brag about it
user2 the ‘well done’ was one thing… BUT CALLING HIM OLLIE?!
user3 someone check on kimi, he’s having a stroke and calling the one guy that he despises the most by his nickname
olliebearman hehe
olliebearman love u 🙂 liked by romaraikkonen
romaraikkonen stfu lemme just appreciate ur talent pls
olliebearman ok 🙂😊
jackdoohan god what a simp 😔
theopourchaire21 let’s all pray for our fallen brother. he passed away after he suffered from ‘down baddery’
arthur_leclerc 🙏
user4 WHY ARE YALL CLOWNING OLLIE 😭😭😭 WE GET IT HES DOWN BAD BUT HE MEANS WELL
frederikvestiofficial he’s so down bad it’s actually sickening 💀
romaraikkonen i’m gonna break your ankle the next time i see you, vesti bestie
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♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck
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hysteria-things · 7 months
Note
Ok so this is a fluff request based off the new podcast eher Matt got cramps and was in pain (sad Ik) so basically after the podcast Matt calls his girlfriend (the reader) and asks his gf to bring some medicine and when she gets there he takes it and he’s still hurting so they cuddle and she’s like “Ik pretty boy I’m sorry try to go to sleep” and pretty/sweet boy kink basically thanks!
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BACK PAIN
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠:matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: there’s been this sharp pain in matt’s lower back during the podcast. however, you come to the rescue once they’re done recording.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing, pain
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 661
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i did not mean for this to take so long anon but i hope you like it!
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bottles of different varieties of medications stare back at you. you’re at the drug store, scanning the shelf to find some ibuprofen or something.
matt’s been texting you ever since they started recording the new cut the camera podcast video. he’s been saying that his lower back is killing him, and he asked you to pick up some painkillers.
you scan a bottle before officially making it your final choice along with a tube of icy hot just in case, and you walk to the self-checkout to pay for it.
before you head back to their house, you stop at mcdonald’s to pick up some food for him. it won’t help with the pain, but you’re sure it’ll make his mood better.
don’t worry, you didn’t forget about the other two. you got them fries.
it’s not a far drive back to the triplets. you park outside of their house, grab all of the belongings from your trip, and lock the car doors.
you make your way to the front door and open it, walking up the stairs into their living room/kitchen. nick and chris are there at the island, grinning once they see you. “hey, y/n.” chris greets, his eyes immediately shooting down to the mcdonald’s bag.
“hi, guys.” you take your shoes off and shuffle over to them. “don’t worry. i got you something, too.”
they gasp once you pull out the french fries, taking them from your hand. “thank you, future sister-in-law.” nick starts, nudging his head toward the hallway. “i hope you can fix him.”
you shrug. “that’s the plan.”
sighing, you walk down the hall and knock at matt’s door as you’re opening it slightly. “can i come in?”
“yeah,” he says, stepping inside and closing the door. you pout, seeing him practically curled up under the blankets. the only light in the room is the TV with spongebob portrayed on it.
you sit next to him on the bed, firstly unpacking the food. “i don’t know if you’re hungry, but i got you a ten-piece with a root beer.” you say, placing it on the nightstand.
then, you reach into the medicine bag. you open the ibuprofen and take two out, placing them on the plastic lid of the drink. “take those.” you turn your head to look at his face, and he’s already staring at you in awe.
he loves you so much.
five spongebob episodes later, you can tell he’s still jittery by the way he keeps shuffling beside you. he’s eaten a little, but not as much. “is the ibuprofen helping?”
“no.” he says annoyed. “it still hurts and i don’t fucking know why.”
“i know, i’m sorry, handsome. sit up,” you demand, and he’s hesitant before doing so.
he sighs. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to sound like that. i’m just annoyed that i don’t know what’s wrong.”
you smile softly, kissing his shoulder. “it’s okay. you probably pulled something.”
lifting his shirt, he groans when he raises his arms for you to take it off. he doesn’t question you, though.
you press down on the spot he told you that hurts, and his muscles tense at the suddenness. you can feel the knot.
“jesus, matt.” you move your thumbs over the spot. “you’re tight right here.”
you continue to rub with your palm and fingers, massaging the area to loosen it up a bit. his head falls, exhaling deeply and closing his eyes.
you take the icy hot and put some on your hand, rubbing it onto his back. “this should help.” you say, leaning him back so you can hold him. his head rests on your chest. “it’ll be like a heating pad and ease the pain.”
“thank you.” he whispers. “you should be a doctor.”
you laugh, kissing his head. “try to go to sleep, pretty boy. the stress won’t help with the pain, either.”
he hums, nuzzling more into you until you hear soft snores moments later.
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