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runawayolives · 20 days

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Fucking Married (Lukas Matsson x Roy!Sibling )

Character/s: Lukas, Connor, Kendall, Shiv, Roy, Logan

Word Count: 1,908

Inspired By: Fucking Married by Harriette

A/N: I love writing for Baby Roy so much omg. This song is the main inspiration, it's so good!!! I hope you guys like this as much as I do because I'm screaming!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Something bight and peachy hit your bloodline, warming you from the inside out. You could feel your cheeks heat up against his chest, swaying side to side. You pulled yourself closer, feeling unsteady on your feet. He laughs a little, kissing the top of your head, squeezing you harder. There isn’t a second of his life that goes by where he isn’t grateful for you. All of you. Music plays from the speaker of his phone in his pocket, an old one you’d heard thousands of times. About love and life and loss. One of his favorites. Of course he would pick this, you smiled. His hand on your back, the other in your hand, swaying softly. He even hums along to the chorus, not saying anything. Not patronizing you, or lecturing you, or reminding you how expensive this whole day was. He’s just grateful to have you to himself for a few moments, getting the dance you promised him regardless of the circumstances. Behind you, they gather by the bar, ordering for themselves. No one had told the staff it was all over. It wasn’t going to happen. The worked quickly, quietly, eagerly. The rest walked gingerly, serving appetizers on silver platters. It made their eyes light up, each grabbing greedily, knowing they hadn’t eaten much since yesterday. He spins you sweetly, making you laugh, feeling childish. At the sound of this, they perked up, their faces breaking out in grins. He always known how to get you to smile, even when you weren’t really feeling it. Even when you’d been crying minutes ago.

Everyone else has gone, even the groom. Especially the groom. None thought to look here the way they had. Surrounded by colorful, oddly shaped glasses with toothpicks of fruit stabbed down the middle. Peach, mango, pineapple, apple, grapefruit. Mixed drinks of little rainbows, one spilled down the front of your white corset. No amount of rubbing will get that out. You shrug, grabbing for another. Thats how they found you. Drinking yourself drunk, chewing up the bits of fruit, hiding from everyone like you’d been doing since you were little. You were sure you stunk of some sixteen year olds favorite mixer, the sweetness of all this leaving you feeling bitter. Wronged. You were under the tables at the reception, crying softly, feeling yourself ease up a little. The whole morning had been nerve wracking. So much so you forgot how to breathe. Greeting everyone, thanking everyone, your own mother late, your father not showing up at all. You played the part, good enough to convince everyone else but yourself, and a few watchful eyes. Those that knew you, who saw you through it all, could see these pre-wedding jitters were more than that. You were petrified. Are you mad at me? You asked so much like a child, tucking your knees to your chest, trying to hide the skirt of your dress from their view. It was too big to hide under the tablecloth. Mad at you? Are you kidding? Come on kid, come and talk to us. You sniffled, chewing a cherry. When you didn’t even consider moving, you heard the groan of a man more than twice your age, watching him get to his knees. The rest protest, but he doesn’t listen. You wipe your cheeks, knowing you must look mad, your makeup ruined. He pokes his head through, wearing that familiar smile. The kind that promises everything will be okay, that you did the right thing, that he could never, ever be angry with you. It only makes you cry harder. I made a mistake. You repeat this over and over again, unable to catch your breath. He urges you out, unable to crawl under with you. Come on kiddo, it’s okay. It’ll be okay. No one’s mad at you. Eventually, you follow him out.

Kendall taps Connors shoulder, wanting to cut in. His eyes meet yours, asking if this is okay. You nod, taking Kens hand. You rest your chin on his shoulder. He’s changed the song to something more his speed, not the kind of song to slow dance to of course. It looks and sounds ridiculous and yet, you can’t help but grin. It’s so him. You did the right thing. It comes out barely above a whisper. You don’t stop moving, though you hesitate for a second. You hadn’t thought about right and wrong, only that you were overcome with an overwhelming sense of dread. Not just today, though it was definitely amplified. Ever since he popped the question, ever since you were expected to say yes. What other choice did you have? Did I? The question comes out before you can stop it, your voice a lot shakier than you expected. Do you feel better? There’s not a second of hesitation. Of course you do. That sinking feeling was totally eradicated. You nod. Then you did the right thing. He made it sound so simple. It couldn’t be, could it? His hands on your waist, in your hand, always wrapped around you, like he was afraid you’d run. Maybe he knew all along. The look on his face said another story. Those knowing, self-assured eyes were wide pools of blue, calling after you, but you were too far to understand what exactly he was saying. He was hurt and angry. You hurt him. But you knew, if you went through with it, you’d hurt for the rest of your life. You were young, too young. You had so much more time, so many more mistakes to make. Not the kind like this. You’d only looked back once, to see his face. Kendall immediately stood up, holding him off from running after you. Were they speaking? You couldn’t see, only that your brother stopped him in his tracks. Connor stood in the middle of the aisle like a deer in the headlights. He was walking you down, not Logan. He hadn’t thought his appearance was necessary. How angry he’d be, you could picture it now, calling after you. He would have killed you.

She turns off Kendalls awful music, putting on something that’s more your taste. Shiv holds her arms around your neck, and yours around hers. She looks beautiful, as always. What do you think Dad’s gonna say? Like a child, you fear the man in charge. If not him, then it would have been your husband. There is always an angry man in every scenario. She shrugs, searching your face, searching for the right words. He won’t be happy, she starts slowly, but it’s not like he can drag you down the aisle, right? She tilts her head to the side, a trait she’s carried with her all her life. I guess you’re right. Though it isn’t anymore comforting. She sees this, senses it, and tries to reassure you. Hey, hey he’ll understand. Maybe not now, but he will. You’ll always be his baby, no matter what. You think we haven’t colossally fucked up before? You try to hide your smile. Your smart sister, taking care of everyone. Where would you be without her? When you’d asked her to be your maid of honor, she was wary. You didn’t sound so sure. Not that you doubted her role for a second, rather that she’d take the brunt of the blame if you decided to take off, as if it were some great master plan between you and her. She would have taken that fall, though. She would have found a way to spin the narrative. Save both of you. She was always doing that: saving sinking ships. Is that what your marriage was, could have been? Probably. You weren’t a good match, you and him. You didn’t want your world to be business dinners and investors. You wanted to explore, see the world, make a name for yourself outside of the Roy/Matsson conglomerate. He was perfectly happy rotting away in meetings. You didn’t have the same interests, the same hobbies, nothing. He spoke Swedish in front of you, probably about you, constantly leaving you out of the conversation. What kind of life would you have lead? A bad one. A miserable one, no doubt.

You know you can never come back to Sweden after this. You’re like banned, permanently, for life. You slap Roman on the chest, trying not to laugh. I’m serious! He will get every Swede on his side and they’ll all gang up on you. They’ll never forget the day you left him at the altar. That strikes something in you, a deep fear. Did you make a mistake? Was this the best you’d ever do and you ruined your chances? Quickly, Roman tries to undo what he’s done, of course with a joke. Kid, come on. Matsson as my brother? Barf. This is a good thing. You did a good thing, for everyone involved. Besides, you didn’t want to have sleep with that guy every day for the rest of your life, right? He’d get tired of looking at himself in the mirror every night. Roman pretended to snore, “dozing off” as you swayed, until your smile came back. You hadn’t even been involved in planning the wedding. His assistants took care of most of it. Not even the date or the place had been cleared by you. You were just expected to show up, get married, call it a day. Everything you’d heard about weddings were magical, the kind of thing that brought couples closer. He was in Sweden not long after you said yes, you in New York. you maybe talked twice a week, if you were lucky. It was almost laughable how silly it all was. Of course you ran. Of course you bailed. He was, essentially, a stranger. A handsome one maybe, if you were in the right mood, the right lighting, but still. Had your mother really bought this? Had everyone? Were they fucking stupid? Do you think he’s upset? Who, Matsson? Fuck no, he probably forgot all about it. He’s got, what, a thirty second memory? He always knew the best thing to say. They all did. Where’s the ring? Hm? The ring, what did you do with it? Oh. You’d thrown it over the deck of the reception dance floor, feeling too claustrophobic to leave it on. It fell down somewhere in the foggy wilderness. After that, you grabbed your tray of drinks and climbed under the table. Are you kidding? That’s hilarious. Roman laughed a hearty laugh, peering over the glass bannister. That things fuckin’ gone. Forever! Lukas could spend the rest of his life, or his assistants life, searching. There was no way you’d go back to him, take back what you did. You could be wrong, but your whole family? It wasn’t often you and your siblings came to the same conclusion. When it came to this, though, you were all in agreement: he could go fuck himself. Everyone at the wedding could for not seeing this sooner. Let him cry like a little baby. Let him keep his money, his houses, his everything. All of sweden, too. You had your brothers and sister. They’d have your back no matter what, regardless of the situation. They’d look after you, look after your best interest at heart. Look on the brightside, Roman said, you’re saving a hell of a lot on the divorce. I gave it five years, tops.

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runawayolives · 3 months

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Question about baby daddy

PD: Requests are open for Jacob Elordi, Nate Jacobs and Felix Catton

#runawayolives #x reader #euphoria #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #baby daddy #jacob elordi #x you #dad!nate jacobs #euphoria hbo #Dad!jacob elordi #hbo #jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs oneshot #Nate jacobs x you #felix catton

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runawayolives · 3 months

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So for baby daddy Nate: when they are older and married reader can't handle anymore and they both fight she ask for divorce but the kid hear it.? Hope you write about this.

This isn't canon, I think.

This belongs to Baby Daddy.

"I think we should get a divorce."

"What?"

"I said that I think we should get a divorce."

"I heard you the first time."

The Jacobs' household was soaked in silence, the two young adults in the kitchen after setting their kid to bed. Nate was sitting on the armchair near the kitchen island, while she was cleaning the remaining of dinner. He stood up, walking towards his wife, invading her personal space.

"Can I know where this is coming from?" The faucet had been dripping for a bit, probably because it knew breaking the silence was its new task.

"I don't think we need to be married." Her hand was gripping a damp towel, hyper-focusing in a little circle of coffee from that morning. "We aren't a married couple, we're just two adults living in a house and raising a child."

"Who's fault is that?"

"Don't blame me." The circle was finally gone. "You were the one who married a woman who never wanted you." Their eyes met for the fist time since they put their child to bed.

"Don't say that shit."

"Mommy? Daddy? I'm thirsty." Both young adults turned around to look at the small figure standing by the hallway. The way they were gripping the doorway and their half hidden body proved that the child had been there for longer.

"Mommy will get you some." Quickly she turned around to fill a plastic cup with water. "Here hon. Do you need help going back to bed?"

"I want daddy to do it." Those big brown eyes were too hard to deny, making Nate walk forward.

"Come on, Jojo, I'll read you another story." He lifted his child to his hip, somehow still dwarfing the child, as if they hadn't grown since they were still a baby.

"Goodnight mommy."

"Goodnight, baby."

The staircase was full of picture frames of the young family, at the park, the zoo, on christmas. Endless memories that his stupid wife wanted to throw away because she was a quitter and a coward.

"What were you and mommy talking about?"

"Nothing you have to worry about."

"You were mad. Is mommy in trouble? Should she sit on the step?" Jojo was the most terrifying child Nate had ever met. The big eyes, the big cheeks and their calm nature made them look like a small victorian child that had seen too much. Jojo had a normal childhood, two parents that loved them, friends, and two set of grandparents that spoiled the kid a bit too much. Normal, very normal child.

Nate thought all the weird things that came out of Jojo were her fault. She burdened their child, he knew it. Jojo played like any other kid, Jojo had the same taste buds as any other kid. But Jojo asked uncomfortable questions and would stare at you for a bit too long, as if the five year-old was trying to figure you out.

She spent too much time raising the child, got bored because she's a stupid selfish bitch and decided to treat Jojo like an adult. Too many books, too many paintings and too many museums.

Jojo loved their mom, and Nate was envious. Not because Jojo didn't love Nate, but because looking at them proved what relationships between mother and child could be. Martha hadn't been present, she was home, and she picked him up from school, but his dad was the one in charge of raising him.

Seeing Jojo and Y/N somehow was the Universe or whatever entity rubbing it his face. You had the potential for having this, but you didn't.

The white walls of his kid's room were covered in little scribbles on the wall, something they hadn't bothered in correcting as long as it was only in these walls. The dinosaur lamp was still on, spreading the room in the light green light. Some story books were laying on the ground, and some books. Original versions of classics such as Little Women and To kill a mockingbird laid besides The very humgry caterpillar and The Giving tree.

During the walk up and the small back rubs Nate was giving Jojo, the five-year old had fallen asleep, long eyelashes tickling their cheeks. The toddler was set on the brand new ocean life bed sheets, their latest obsession, and immediately started hugging the handmade-crochet whale they had made with their mom's help.

After setting the kid to sleep and kissing their small forehead, Nate went downstairs. His wife was were he left her, this time with a mug between her hands.

"If you think I'll give you a divorce and let you separate me from my son, you're way stupider than I thought."

#runawayolives #x reader #euphoria #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #baby daddy #jacob elordi #x you #dad!nate jacobs #euphoria hbo #Jacob elordi x you #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #baby daddy universe #baby daddy ask #nate jacobs oneshot #Nate jacobs imagine

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runawayolives · 3 months

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Complicated ; Jean-Pierre Magnan.

summary; since the start of the school year, Jean-Pierre and reader have competed with each other for the first place on everything, that is until reader starts to neglect herself.

warnings: fem!reader, ANGST!!!, fluff, swearing, academic enemies-to-lovers, feelings of failure, reader has a shitty family AND doesn't take care of her health (dead dove do not eat? idk?), canon typical misogyny, they're so mean but they like each other (i promise!!).

w/c: 2.8k

author note: i want to thank everyone who encouraged me to keep writting, your comments made me blush and giggle so hard, omg!!!! <3

I got stuck in this o.s for more than a month because I really liked the idea but I wasn't convinced on how it was turning out, but anyways, I had to upload something after being inactive for so long lmao.

The latin teacher handed each student their graded exams, occasionally throwing back handed comments when he saw necessary, visibly enjoying the defeated faces of the students that didn't receive a satisfactory grade.

With an audible sigh, he extended the paper towards Y/N, shaking his head to emphatise his dissaprovement.

"You were the only reason as to why I was starting to believe that it was a good idea to integrate girls to the school." He raised his eyebrows. "But I'm starting to regret it."

The loud comment reverberated on the walls and hurt her ears, making her shrink in her seat with embarrassment when the big red 7/20 was placed in front of her. When the professor continued walking around, she heard a subtle chuckle coming from the left, turning her head in that direction. Founding a pair of big green eyes already staring at her in amusement.

"And I'm starting to believe that, after all, you are not a threat at all." A small smirk painted his face before continuing. "Maybe you fooled all of us into believing that you were actually smart, but I guess you aren't at all."

Her throat closed at the same time that she felt the need to throw up, she didn't knew what was wrong with her, she stayed up late studying for the tests, wrote her own resumes and even recited them out loud to try and memorize it, but no matter what she tried, the formulas didn't seem to stick to her brain, the numbers and symbols seemed like the exact same thing and confused them with each other and even the words of her history homework seemed to be written on a foreign language. She felt like a failure ever since her parents started to demand even better grades than she already had, spending her days and nights studying and having little to almost no sleep at all, investing all her time into trying to regain her star student position.

She was exhausted, sometimes even getting to the point of hallucinating things from the lack of rest, but convincing herself that she didn't deserve it until her parents were more than proud of her. And that seemed so far away.

Blinking away the tears, she tried to keep up with her facade, "Maybe you should start to mind your own business, Magnan." She managed to spat through gritted teeth.

"And that's where you're wrong, again." She groaned in annoyance. "See, when something makes you feel miserable, it is completly of my business because it makes me feel amazing."

She took a sharp inhale, and before she could say something, the sound of the bell indicating the start of reccess pierced the air. Rapidly, she gathered her belongings and almost sprinted out of the classroom, earning a severe reprimend from the teacher that she didn't care enough to hear.

"Miss L/N!" He made an offended sound. "Women, they are so sensitive... That's why they don't belong here."

She made a straight path towards the teachers restrooms, and only after locking the door did she allowed herself to let out a choked sob. The tears falling down and making a mess everywere, a hand coming up her face to try to muffle her desperate cries.

She really didn't know what was wrong with her.

Maybe she was the problem.

Everything came down like a ton of bricks falling on her, from the pressure of trying to be a role model for her family, to the hurtful words of Jean-Pierre that striked a nerve. Usually it wouldn't bother her that much and instead she would have a comeback ready to throw at him, but lately that wasn't the case, the highlights of her day used to be the moments were they started bickering at each other, sharing defying looks and victorius smirks in the way. She awaited those moments so eagerly.

But now she was lacking the strength to think on a smart jab to get right back at him, and even when she did manage to come up with something, it didn't bring her any satisfaction at all like it used to. Instead, she just felt drained.

Once again, the bell rang indicating to everyone that the classes resumed once again, but rather of getting out of her little hiding spot, she just stayed there, not feeling ready to face yet another deception.

Nor face again those mesmerizing green eyes.

A sharp headache made her wince slighty, she's been having them since a few days ago, sometimes were more powerful than others and today it seemed like one of the days were she felt like digging out her brain out of her head. She splashed some water on her face and looked at the mirror, looking away almost immediately when she took note of how sick she looked.

Opening the door, she carefully made her way to the infirmary, thinking to herself that some minutes with the school's nurse could excuse her absence in the class. A sudden feeling of dizziness caused by the sudden movement almost made her trip over, but before it happened, a strong hand took hold of her arm, keeping her from falling.

"What is wrong with you? Where the hell were you?" Jean-Pierre gave her a severe look that harbored his concern.

"I already told you to mind your own business." With all the strength she could muster, she pushed herself free out of his hold, the anger bubbling on her veins. "I don't owe you nothing, so get out of my sight and leave me the fuck alone. You would do me a great fucking favor."

Her harsh words left him completly dumbfounded, never before had she talked to him like that, even on the days when he annoyed her out of her mind. He saw how she moved towards the stairs, holding tightly onto the rails; moving closer to her hunched form, he felt the sudden and desperate need to ask her what was the problem, if he could help her in any way.

"I'm here against my will, Miss Couret sent me to look out for you." Was the only thing that came out of his mouth. "She was worried because she didn't saw you at recess, even more when you weren't at the classroom."

The lie slipped off naturally from him. Miss Couret didn't sent him to look out for her, he scaped class by coming up with some excuse about needing to ask something important about his latin competence, the truth was that he was the one who worried about her absence. But she didn't need to know that tiny detail.

Jean-Pierre would never admit it out loud, but he saw the drastic change on his rival's attitude, and it got him concerned. He would secretly listen to conversations of her friends that involved Y/N herself as a main topic, that's how he got to know how strict her parents were with her and it made his stomach churn with worry.

The weird thing was, he really didn't know why he cared so much, neither why he couldn't stop thinking about her. She was the first thing on his mind when he waked up, thinking about new ways to annoy her and have her total attention on him, he thought about her on the afternoon while doing homework, wondering if she managed to do the excersices better that him, and she was also his last thought before dozing up to sleep, anxiously waiting for the morning to come to do that rutine all over again.

He really didn't knew why.

A grip on his sleeve made him stop on his tracks and turn his torso towards her, his free hand instinctively coming up to rest it on her forearm.

"I think I will pass up." She mumbled with a lost look on her eyes. "If you let me fall, I will kill you, Magnan."

And not even a second later, everything turned black to her.

- - - - - - - - - -

The fist thing she noticed was the slight smell of pine blending up with the strong one coming out of the medicines, a small sigh leaving her lips before opening her eyes, stumbling almost immediately with the image of Jean-Pierre sitting beside the bed she was lying, and from what she could see, he was engrossed with a latin book.

Her heart raced and a hundred thoughts per second invaded her head. He could've left her with the nurse to come back to class, why was her still there? Was he waiting for her to wake up? But also, what if he was only there to be the first one to laugh at her? The questions overwhelmed her inmensely, so she decided to ask first the important ones.

"How long have I've been unconsious?" The sudden sound of her voice making him shot his head up, she could swore he almost looked relieved.

"I, uhm... Here, I bet you are thirsty." He cleared his voice before handing her a cup of water. "It wasn't for that long, just a couple hours. The school's over in less than forty minutes, so we can go home anytime."

She emitted a groan. "No wonder why I feel like I slept for years, I missed the whole day!" Leaving the cup on the bedside table, she glanced quickly around the nursery. "Where's Mrs. Bellanger?"

"Some kid was playing too hard and broke his arm in the process, she told me to keep an eye on you while she took him to the hospital." He paused, momentarily doubting if he should keep going. "She also told me that you passed out due to a huge lack of sleep and a possible unbalanced diet. Tell me, did you thought that it was smart? To harm yourself in order to have the acceptance of some idiots who can't see your real value? It's not worth it if you end up like this."

As if it were an habit, her eyes got teary, losing the count on how many times she cried on the day. It bothered her so much, even more that it was happening in his presence. For a moment, he almost sounded so consternated... But either way, she wouldn't tolerate being scolded like a kid.

"Excuse you?" She exclaimed, an evident frown on her face.

"Don't try to play dumb. You know what I mean."

"Oh, so you want to know why? I'm the first granddaughter, the first niece, the first child, the older sister... It's obvious that I have to make some sacrifices, even if it's at my own expense. After all, everyone expects so much more from me." The words came out slower than before and full of venom. "Yes, it may not be really healthy, but I push myself because it's the only way to make them proud of me, and it's something that I believed you would understand, Magnan."

"And you are not wrong, I do understand you." He took a few seconds before saying his next words. "That's why I don't want you to pressure yourself to be someone that you aren't, I know what it's like to be pressured by your parents -..."

"No, you don't. You don't know how my parents are!" She interrupted him. "You don't know how it is to be belittled when you don't achieve something worthy of their interest, you don't know how its like to feel proud of yourself because you thought that you finally did something right just to find out that you failed again, or to spend every second of the day studying, priving yourself of having a social life just to feel miserable at the end of the day. And you definitely don't know how it's like to live your whole life without knowing if your family even likes you."

She didn't know when she started to cry, much less in what moment Jean-Pierre got close enough to wrap her in a tight embrace. But suddenly, she felt like the constant emptiness in her chest was being filled with something much greater than a temporary stability brought by false acceptance, it was an unknown warm and fuzzy feeling that made her anguish vanish away. It felt like that was all she needed throughout her life.

They pulled apart slowly, his hands immediately went to her face to wipe away any traces left of tears on her cheeks, and they stood there, looking at each others eyes, feeling as if they were frozen in time.

"I may not understand entirely, but I can learn how to." He murmured. "I really want to understand you."

"But why would you bother?" She asked, confused and desperate to know. "Since the moment we met, the only thing we do is argue, we hate each other!... I tried to hurt you so many times and you have done the same to me, so please, make me understand, why would you want to help me? Why do you care?"

"Because I care about you, deeply." The words came out breathless, his eyes trying to desperately find her gaze. "I really don't know how to describe what I feel, but I do know that every time I see you, my heart goes crazy, and sometimes I wonder if it will come the day where it's going to jump out of my chest to go chasing after you. I know that every time you laugh with another person, I wish with all my soul to, someday, be worthy enough to be the cause of your smile. But I do know that if I hated you, really did, I would be happy for your downfall, but I'm not, because I can't force me to act as if I don't care about you, not anymore."

Jean-Pierre wasn't a man or words. All his life he struggled to express his feelings, but this time, it was different.

"One of the things I admire you for is the way that you don't never give up, it doesn't matter how many times I get a slighty better mark, you study harder until beating me up the next time we have an exam. You are resilient, and so damn smart that it makes me feel jealous sometimes, because I wish I could have a little bit of the determination that you possess, and I can't comprehend why you focus on your non existing flaws and ignore all your strenghts."

"I never thought..." She began with a whisper, attempting to make a joke in order to not break down completely. "I never thought that someone could ever think that highly of me, not even you."

"How could I not? You are the most incredible person I ever met, Y/N."

A violent sob reverberated on the nursery walls, and before she could even feel shame for shattering that easily due to the sweetest words she ever heard, she found herself on Jean-Pierre's hold once again.

It felt like they spend a lifetime in that embrace, hearing nothing more than the rapid beats of their hearts and sharing everything they didn't had the courage to say out loud, not yet. Squeezing the hug one last time before breaking away, she dried her face with the sleeves of her blouse, his adoring eyes never leaving her.

"Now, what? What's next from this point?" Fearfully, she asked.

"Now... I will walk you home." Seeing her confused frown, he added rapidly. "If you want to be the number one, you have to be better than me, and the first step to achieve that is to sleep well and eat some real food. You have to take care of yourself, then we will work on the rest."

"We? You will help me beating you up?"

"I want to help you to become a better version of yourself. If that costs me becoming the second of the class, then so be it."

He extended his arm in her direction, encouraging her to hold it. Slowly, she got up from the bed and hooked their arms together.

"I must admit that my home is far away and I came walking today, so you can still back down if you want."

"Only a fool could reject such offering."

She exhaled a shaky breath, never expecting that answer. As they made their way towards the door, a sudden question hitted her.

"How did you know about my problem with my family?"

"I accidentally overheard a conversation, I didn't realise it was about you until they named you." An overwhelming warmth creeping up his face.

"Of course, 'accidentally'."

"Shut up." His reddening cheeks and the obvious attempt of a lie didn't went unnoticed, earning a light giggle from the girl.

That fluttery sensation came back to her. She never thought that it would be possible to feel this smitten over someone, even if she still struggled to admit it. While the boy couldn't stop thinking of how fortunate he felt in those moments, with the person he couldn't stop dreaming about holding onto him and walking her home for the first time, and hopefully not last. The warm breeze of the spring surrounding them as they made their way out of the school between laughs and jokes, secretly wishing to have more moments like this one in the future.

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runawayolives · 3 months

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when’s part 3 of baby daddy coming out?? NO RUSH !!! take ur time to do your best workpossible

Hi!

Thank you for liking baby daddy, it means a lot.

The thing is, I don't have the time to really get into writing a good long new chapter. I've been busy and I don't see having enough free time anytime soon.

Because it's been on hiatus for a while, but it's a fic that a lot of people are still interested in, I'm accepting little requests or prompts so that I can write things like this, to compensate the fact that part 3 isn't guaranteed for a bit.

Feel extremely free to send little prompts and requests, and I'll try to write something, doesn't matter if it's cannon or not.

PSA: I also accept requests for Felix Catton and Jacob Elordi

#runawayolives #x reader #euphoria #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #baby daddy #jacob elordi #dad!nate jacobs #euphoria hbo #nate jacobs oneshot #Felix catton #X you #requests

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runawayolives · 3 months

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I was wondering if I could send a Felix Catton or Jacob Elordi request ?

Yeah! Send it and I'll try to write it when I have time. I write for both of them.

#felix catton #x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn #jacob elordi x you #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi #runawayolives #euphoria #nate jacobs #requests

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runawayolives · 3 months

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So for baby daddy Nate, does reader go to school visibly pregnant? Or once she starts showing she does virtual school?

Thank you for the ask, anon!

So this is not that, but something I had in mind kind of in the same topic.

This belongs to the series Baby Daddy

Maddy took a deep breath while laying down in her backyard, running her hand over her face.

"How is college application going?"

"Nonexistent."

She turned around to face her slightly pregnant friend. "What do you mean nonexistent?"

She shrugged, replying with a dry tone. "It means I'm 17 and pregnant, and I don't want to be a college student and a mother at the same time."

"So? Your parents offered all the help to raise it, you can go to college and during the weekends be with it." Maddy tried to hide the distaste she felt towards the small thing currently existing in her friends abdomen, seeing it as the biggest impediment in both their lives.

"It isn't an it anymore it's a she."

"I don't give a fuck what it is, what I care about is that you're not going to college because of it." She turned her head around to face her friend, practically seeing smoke coming out of her ears and nose.

"Mads, she isn't the guilty one, you said it, my parents offered to raise her."

"Then why are you not going?"

"I don't want someone else raising my child, I don't want her to see her childhood as a period where I was too preoccupied studying to be her mother." This time she really looked at Maddy. She looked at her as if gazing into her eyes would connect with her soul. She wasn't just looking at her, she was trying to explain in a too deeply way her reasons that had already become a stable decision.

"She won't remember."

"She will know eventually."

"If you don't go now, you will never go."

"Lorelei Gilmore did it."

"Fuck her." Y/N broke off eye contact to laugh. She liked Maddy because her abrasiveness did just that, in high tension moments, it acted as a terminator, making it all disappear ear. "Don't laugh, I didn't say that for you to laugh."

"Why are you so mad about this, Mads?" Her friend scoffed, looking away, as if the racional answer was somehow in the clouds or the sky.

"What about me?" Y/N was too confused by the question to read her friends body language.

"I mean, you're like the number one not fan of the baby, but I guess you can be the godmother. Or you could learn how to cook and we could start an inn and raise a bratty and train-wreck kid." Maddy stood up, still not turning around to face her friend.

"What about me, Y/N?"

"Mads, I don't understand what you're asking." She finally turned around, facing her friend. Y/N could now see her face, red and with a few angry tears falling down her cheeks.

"What about me, Y/N? If you don't make it out, what does that mean about me? If this has happened to you, there's no hope for me."

"Maddy..."

"No, don't sugar coat it. I was rooting for you, I was. My mother was proud of me whenever she saw us together, she could see me actually doing something with my life. And now you're here, giving up, ruining your life for a baby you haven't planned and stuck to a guy that is set on ruining your life. If that's what you get, I don't want to know what's waiting for me." She took a deep breath and kneeled down beside her friend. "You've given up on yourself, but I won't. I won't because I refuse to believe this is all there's going to be to your life."

Y/N leaned forward to hug her friend, squishing her as if that would make all her worries evaporate. "I have not given up on you, Maddy Perez, and I'll never will."

They both stood there, for as long as they needed, crying and sometimes laughing, trying to find humor in their seemingly dooming predicament.

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runawayolives · 3 months

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Anyone still interested in the Baby Daddy series can send me little ideas and prompts to my inbox.

I'll try to answer them with longish replies so that you can have some reading material.

For anyone who doesn't know the series, it's liked above, and I hope you like it!

It can be questions, prompts, AU! Ideas... Whatever comes to your mind.

#dad!nate jacobs #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs oneshot #nate jacobs #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi imagine #dad!Jacob elordi #runawayolives #baby daddy #baby daddy universe #hbo euphoria #euphoria hbo #euphoria #x reader #felix catton x reader

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runawayolives · 8 months

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Does anyone want to read Mikey Berzatto stuff? If so, requests are open, also for Carmy (concepts and prompts are also welcome)

#the bear #mikey berzatto x reader #mikey berzatto #michael berzatto #michael berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #requests are open #runawayolives

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runawayolives · 11 months

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hiii, love your stuff<33 could I maybe request a gen z reader blurb where after getting in a crash due to a mechanical issue everyone worries about her and she’s pissed because she felt seen as weak and vulnerable?? THANK U SO MUCH

life goes on

pairing: genz!driver x '23!grid and some seb cameo

summary: see request :)

word count: 2.1k

warnings: crash, blood, injury, anger issues, tears (idk if that’s a warning), media talks bad about genz!driver, foul language

note: thank you so much for the request!! i am not quite sure if i should write the genz!driver stories in a you pov or a she/her pov, what would you prefer, please let me know, ty :))

It started with a bad day. FP1 was shit, FP2 was also not great. Her day was just not great. Free practice 3 was better, the car had finally responded to her again. In the first two laps, everything went smooth. She was already singing Smooth Operator in her head. But suddenly the car stirred, luckily she saved herself and didn’t crash, but she did retire from the session.

Her engineer and her sat together for Qualifying. She told him everything she noticed whilst driving.

„I feel like the steering wheel is not responding on time. It’s like it’s two seconds delayed, which is not good.“

He nodded and wrote it down on a notepad. „I feel like there’s nothing we can do, I can check with the mechanics, but qualifying is in two hours, which may not be enough time“, her race engineer told her. She sighed. The last two days were bad for y/n, she hasn’t slept good for at least four days. She nodded and told him that she’d be in her drivers room.

As qualifying started, she only got in one good lap before she had to retire. She was right, her steering wheel indeed had a slight delay. Which made turning corners very hard. She ended Q1 in P19, her worst result in qualifying yet. She was disappointed, in herself and in the car.

Her mechanics tried to fix the issue until the race started, but with no hope. She prepared herself for the race, knowing it would not be an easy one. She was scared, like cared shitless. She tried to call Sebastian during Q2, but he did not pick up. Opting for a quick text, she asked him to call her back as soon as possible.

Lewis heard what happened to y/n car during Q1 and wanted to comfort the young driver. With long strides he went to her motorhome. Her engineer just pointed to her drivers room as soon as he saw Lewis approach him. Three short knocks. Her head snapped up as the door opened. Lewis was standing there, looking pitiful and held his arms out.

„Are you okay, darling?“, he asked her as she muzzled her head in his shoulders. She let her tears fall freely. Shaking her head she told him how she felt. „The steering wheel is delayed, which is so difficult to drive with and also dangerous. But my mechanics can’t fix it, they don’t know why it’s happening and a whole reboot of the system would take too long! I’m scared, Lewis. I don’t know what to do.“

His hand firm on her backside, he just held the young woman. Telling her to retire to not cause a crash would’ve been the best thing. Tell her to refuse to race. But he didn’t, knowing the girl and her ambitions. She would race, no matter what. She didn’t want to be seen as weak or even worse, girly.

She was girly, but not in the sense of racing. She was just as ‚manly‘ as the other drivers.

„I know that you will make the right decision about the whole situation“, Lewis told her. Oh, how wrong he was.

Q3 was finished with Verstappen on pole, as always, Perez on P2 and Leclerc on P3. Happy to see Charles starting this high, she went into the race with somewhat a good feeling. The first three laps were okay, she sank down to P20, DeVries overtook her with ease on the second corner, as she slowed down as much as possible to control the car. But the longer the race was, the more angry she got. It was not fair, the steering wheel was just not responding.

On lap 24 y/n’s car crashed. In corner eight, her steering wheel stopped working. Instead of a turn, the car just went straight into the pit wall. The front wing smashed against the wall, squashing it against her own car. Her head was spinning. What just happened?

„Red flag, the FIA just announced a red flag in corner eight. Seems like y/l/n crashed. Let’s hope she’s fine.“

Several team radios went through.

„Charles, y/n crashed in corner eight, there’s a red flag, be careful.“

„Lewis, there is a red flag.“

„Be careful, Max. You are approaching corner eight where y/n has had a crash.“

And many more. Everyone was concerned. What has happened? What did you do to crash your car like that. We’re you responsive? Responsible? What was going on?

„y/n, please respond. The race has been stopped. What happened?“, her race engineer tried to speak to her, she was non-responsive.

„What the fuck, what happened?! Is she responsive? Are the medics on their way?“, Lewis was the first to address the situation. „We don’t know, we don’t see any medics yet, Lewis.“

And as Max pulled up to corner eight he hopped out of his car. He ran towards hers and yelled for her, to show him a sign that she was still alive, without a response. He was worried, he was always worried when someone crashed, but he was extra worried when she did.

„y/n! What happened? Are you okay? Please give me a sign!“, he tried it again, with no luck. He saw her helmet move, the flashy colours moving from side to side. „Ach godzijdank Ah, thank god“, he mumbled.

The medics arrived and ushered Max to the side. Taking her out of the car and laying her on a spinal board. Transporting her into the ambulance.

She was devastated. It was not her fault she crashed. But the media didn’t know that. They would accuse her of crashing yet another car. That she wasn’t good enough to be in Formula 1. They would report about her as if she wasn’t a human being and just something they could play with. They would talk about her like a doll. It was not fair.

Meanwhile on the paddock the talking began. Lewis was the most worried, he should’ve just told her to refuse racing. What if she suffered a serious injury? Like a neck or spine injury and couldn’t race anymore. It was his fault, that’s what he thought.

Lando was worried too, not really knowing what happened, he was just worried. You could be injured. The minutes went by without any news from you. They were hard for Lando.

Even Checo, who wasn’t usually a companion of y/n, was worried. He didn’t see what happened, but he heard from Max how the crash looked - bad, it looked bad.

„We hear from the medics; y/n is okay. At least that. Let’s hope the race will continue without another crash.“

Lewis released a breather, not knowing he heals so much air in his lungs. He was glad y/n was okay. He still felt bad, always feeling responsible for her. And now that she crashed, his head was spinning with gut wrenching thoughts and worry.

The FIA announced the green flag and the race continued without y/n. When she got back to her garage, her motorhome, she expected a angry team principal, angry mechanics and engineers, expect she was greeted with relieved sighs and shoulder droppings. Her engineer was the first one to embrace her. He told her how sorry he was and how everything was definitely not her fault.

She was still angry, no points, no race, no happy ending for that day. Everything was shit. She had a shit day that race. And it was not even her own fault.

Her team principal came towards her, gripping her shoulders hard and said: „I know this seems bad, it is, but we can fix it. I wish I could send you home, but media still awaits.“

So she waited, she waited lap after lap until eventually Max won the race. She waited until her PR got her out of the drivers room and took her to the media pen, where the post race conferences will be held.

Sky Sports interviewed the todays winner. So, y/n waited for Max to finish. She hoped he would never finish, that she would never have to face the camera and talk about the incident.

But that didn’t happen.

„Hello y/n, how do you feel? Everything okay, no pain?“, the nice interviewer asked her. „Uh, yeah, everything is fine“, she struggled with her answer, not believing herself that everything was fine.

„Can you tell me what happened? We just saw you crashing?“ - „Uhm, yeah“, she looked towards her media PR, what was she allowed to say? She shook her head - no bad words about her team. „I-, uh, I lost control of my steering wheel.“

The interviewer nodded. „We saw you retire from the race after Q1, having struggled already in FP1 and 2. Did you have problems with your steering wheel during them as well?“

She sighed. She was tired, her neck ached and she just wanted to be in her bed.

„I mean, kind of, yeah you could say I struggled with it during free practice.“

If she told the interviewer that she struggled with it during the whole yesterday and today, she would’ve bad mouthed the team.

„Last question for today, y/n. We asked Twitter for some comments, would you be so kind to make a statement to some of them?“

She really didn’t want to, knowing exactly what most of them had to say; women don’t belong in motorsports, etc.

„Sure“, she sighed. Her PR nodded, happy that y/n decided not to refuse.

„Alright, @motodports_2 said: That’s the second time this season that y/n crashed her car and we are only on the 7th race. What do you have to say to that?“

She closed her eyes, the headache creeping in like a madman with a desire to kill. „That’s true, that was the second crash of the season. And I am sorry for that, my team doesn’t deserve me crashing that many times during the season. I apologise.“

Sebastian was sitting at home, watching the race from his couch. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. The team doesn’t deserve a driver that crashes so much? Bullshit.

He missed her calls earlier that day, he wished he would’ve picked up his phone or at least called her back. But what she was telling to that interviewer was absolute bull.

Charles, who was next in line, also couldn’t believe the stuff you were telling Sky Sports.

„Okay, @maydrive says: The way y/n is throwing away her career in F1 with those shenanigans. Get a grip, will you?“, the interviewer read from the screen in front.

Charles was shocked, he never had to respond to any comments like that. How was she experiencing something like that?

„Uh yeah, thank you @maydrive for that. I will try to get a grip, and you are right, I am throwing away my F1 career like that, but I don’t want that, that’s why I will keep trying to get better“, her eyes were starting water. Just don’t let those tears fall, y/n. They want to see her cry, don’t give them the satisfaction of it.

„Thank you, y/n. Rest up and good evening!“

Her PR pulled her away and onto the next interview. After all that, she was exhausted. Exhausted and angry. How could they be asking her questions like that? Not fair.

Back in her garage, she let the emotions flow. Tears were streaming down her face, sobs were heard and her body was shaking. Her PR handed y/n her phone, leaving her again with a gentle pat to the shoulder.

Seb was calling her.

„Before you say anything, don’t let them treat you like that ever again. Not your fault, if you had problems with the steering wheel, it is not your place to apologise“, Seb interrupted her, before she could even sob into the phone. He heard sniffles. „Don’t cry, liebes dear. You did nothing wrong today.“

„Seb, I wish you’d be here“, she sobbed into the phone. It broke his heart. Comforting someone over the phone was hard, much more if the person being comforted was a teenager.

„It’s gonna be okay, life goes on, okay?“, he told her. „I just feel so weak and vulnerable. They hate me, they always find something wrong with my driving.“

„You are not weak! Who told you that?“, a voice from behind her sounded from the dark. Fernando Alonso stepped out of the shadow. Seb instantly recognised the older spaniards voice over the phone. Glad y/n was not alone in a time like this.

Fernando embraced her. Hugging her tight and firmly. He felt her heartbeat against his chest, beating like crazy. „Breathe with me, y/n.“

They were standing in her motorhome, embraced in one another. If a camera had noticed, headliners would say: Alonso and y/l/n dating confirmed? But there was no camera around.

She had her family here in F1. She belonged here, just as much as any other driver. She was not at fault. She was not weak or vulnerable. She was strong.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23

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