Ohohoho I LOVE “fuck around and find out” signs, especially the really dramatic and ominous (but true) ones
(Context for the last one: it’s a WWII era sign posted around the soldiers’ washroom mirror, warning them to never discuss military plans in places where civilians could hear them and report back to the enemy, e.g. in restaurants and pubs in the country. “Loose lips sink ships”.)
I also love these two, which I would place in the category of “You already fucked around, now you’re about to find out.”
Aerated water is fucking scary. It's water that has a fuckton of gas in it, which reduces the buoyancy to the point where you will immediately start to sink if you fall in.
Summary: You’re on tour with Robert and he’s upset that you stepped out in the snow without a proper jacket.
Rating: G
Word count: 1k
Warnings: Just pure, sweet fluffiness. Some married couple bantering and allusions to sex near the end.
I was hesitant to post this because it was inspired by this adorable photo of Robert and his then-wife playing in the snow together, but I showed it to @bijouxcarys and she convinced me to post it (thank you bestie for reading over this for me!) I hope you all enjoy it.
AO3
~~
The moment you had stepped out of the hotel and into the biting cold Denmark air, Robert had rushed over to you, asking you what the hell you were doing out here without a coat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It wasn't often that you got to join your husband on tour, but when you did, he was constantly doting on you.
You hugged your arms to yourself. "I have a jumper on, Robert, you act as if I've stepped out here in the lingerie you bought me last night."
He gestured around at the snow on the ground as if you were too blind to see it. "That's not thick enough! You'll freeze your arse off, luv…"
You knew he was right, the biting cold air was slicing through your jumper. You could hear it raining ice the night before on the limo ride back to the hotel from the concert venue. The weather was becoming unpredictable, and you didn't know if it would start raining or snowing again.
Robert shrugged out of his fur-lined leather jacket, placing it over your shoulders, blanketing you in a familiar warmth. The jacket was still warm with his body heat, carrying the scent of his usual cologne and cigarettes, making you feel at home in his arms. You almost sank into the comforting feeling before you realized that he had on nothing but a thin long sleeved shirt that was even thinner than your jumper.
"Are you mad!? Your shirt is even thinner than mine!"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "The cold never bothered me."
You glared at him. "It will bother you when you've caught pneumonia, daft man!"
Laughing softly, he laced his hands through yours, his hands surprisingly warm against your cold knuckles; his jacket was far too big on you, the arms of it swallowing yours whole. He led you to the side of the hotel where Bonzo and Jimmy were smoking near the tour bus, and Jonesy was throwing snowballs with his bundled up daughters a fair distance off.
Despite not wearing anything heavier than a cotton shirt, Robert seemed to radiate warmth all by himself as he held your hands so that you didn't fall in the thick snow as it crunched underneath your feet.
You let go of his hands for the briefest moment only to take one step forward and almost fell into the snow. He caught you instantly, his warm arms encircling you, holding him to his warm chest protectively.
"Oops! Watch your step, luv."
The two of you stood in the middle of the car lot, just enjoying each other's embrace, as you realized that snowflakes were starting to come down again. Robert reached a hand out, catching one on the palm of his hand before it melted. He let out a small giggle.
A sudden muffled shout from Bonzo caused you to glance over your shoulder just as a cold thud hit Robert in the back, the snowball exploding, dusting his hair in a spray of white.
Robert turned around to face the drummer, releasing you to scoop up a snowball into his bare hands and hurling it back at him.
Shaking your head incredulously, you trudged through the snow to stand on the pavement as you watched your husband snow fight with Bonzo and Jimmy, slipping and sliding through the snow as they threw balls of it at each other.
The sound of Robert's laughter was infectious, and you couldn't help but let it bring a smile to your face.
As you snuggled back into the warmth of his jacket, you remembered that he was out there wearing only a thin cotton shirt, and you worried that he would catch a cold. You knew how miserable he would be if he was sick while on tour.
Eventually, Peter and Richard exited the hotel and one of the three must have flung a snowball into Richard's face because he fell on his arse on the iced over stairs as he sat there in shock for a moment.
The three glanced between each other as Richard got to his feet, storming over to them, ready to pommel whoever had thrown the snow in his face.
Pointing in either direction, the three of them said "He did it!" in unison before running away from the road manager, as he trudged through the snow after them. While Jimmy and Bonzo ran in opposite directions, Robert made his way over to you.
Shrugging his jacket off, you handed it to him. "Put this on before you catch hypothermia."
"But you don't-"
"I'm not the one having snowball fights in a sack cloth. Now put it on!"
Robert smirked at your wifely nagging, quietly finding it enduring as he put the jacket back on. He pulled you against him, wrapping you in his jacket as he warmed himself against you. You could feel the tremor of his shivering through his thin shirt, his body silently betraying how cold he actually was. You didn't even try to resist as you wrapped your arms around his waist beneath his jacket.
He warmed his lips by pressing them against your forehead, the feeling of your warm skin a brand of warmth in the cold, causing him to shiver with delight and contentment. "You must think I'm daft."
"You are daft."
You pressed your lips to his chest as his embrace tightened around you.
"We'd warm up faster if we removed the rest of our clothes," he murmured against your hair, his voice taking on the usual sultry tone that he used when trying to charm your knickers off you. "Maybe even better if you tried on what I bought you last night."
You rolled your eyes but leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. He quickly deepened it, his tongue seeking yours out as the kiss ignited your entire body, warming both of you from the inside. When it finally broke, you rested your head against his. "I'm actually wearing it right now…" you admitted quietly.
Robert smiled against your lips once the kiss broke, looking down at you through heavy-lidded eyes. "We should get inside… I have… other activities in mind to help us warm up."
Taking you into his arms, the two of you made your way up to the hotel room that you shared, giggling along the way as you anticipated what he had in mind to warm the two of you up from the cold.
I think it's a shame that "Oedipus complex" refers to fucking your mom instead of the actual point of his story, fulfilling your destiny through your attempts to avoid it. It just so happens his destiny was to fuck his mom
Yeah, I don’t know what Freud was thinking, but Oedipus very much did Not want to fuck his mom. He spent the entire play trying to avoid that, and then gauged out his eyes when he learned that he had anyway.
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