Soccer imagines

•raphaël varane•

Raphaël Varane
By fortheloveoffutbol

"Raphaël! Raphaël! Raphaël!"
Constantly having to hear his name screamed in moments void of sexual passion mind you was driving Raphaël Varane up the freaking wall.
He knew it would be bad but never like this.
It had been exactly two weeks since you hurt your knee in what you called a 'work accident' and what Raphaël called your usual clumsiness. The exact bone you had bruised had some sort of technical name you didn't even dare to butcher. The answer was always just 'I hurt myself running' whenever the curious kids in the grocery store asked what that big black wraparound cast on your knee was for.
And since that injury, Rapha had quite literally been your servant. He was the person to cook breakfast, dinner and lunch too on the days when he was actually at home. You having time off from work meant that you had ample time to lay in bed, watching tv and squandering away every single hour. Most times during those hours you were calling him for something. Like now.
Standing outside the door for a moment, he took a second to gather the exasperated expression on his face and transform it into one that at least said 'Hey. I'm not that annoyed with you'.
That was quite demanding.
Once satisfied that he didn't look too annoyed, he peaked into the bedroom where you lay. "Yes?"
Your mouth had been restricted to answer, filled with the pita chips you had just rudely stuffed in your mouth before he came in so instead of verbal directions you simply pointed off to the floor beside the high rise bed.
His eyebrows scrunched in confusion wondering just why he was being directed to the floor. Checking for monsters under the bed? He wouldn't have put it past you honestly.
As Raphaël maneuvered around the corner of the large mattress, he saw what you had been wanting for but by now the chips were shoved down your throat and you were able to answer. "Can you grab that for me?"
If only he had counted the amount of times since your injury that the television remote ended up on the floor or on a stand where you couldn't reach. He was starting to think you didn't even try to reach for it, instead enjoying the sound of his name emitting in high tones from your mouth. There were even nights you shook him awake to grab it.
Without protest, he grabbed it for the thirty fourth time and placed it carefully into your lap. "Anything else?"
"No. I think that's it." You gave a soft smile before he safely exited the room in hopes that it would be a little bit longer before his name was going to be called again.
It wasn't that long at all.
3 minutes and 42 seconds according to the timer he had started on his phone and he made sure to take a screenshot of the quick turnaround too, just to show his teammates exactly what he was dealing with. They hadn't believed his stories the past few days of his new role as the housewife, laughing him off and insisting that you were way too independent to rely on the man who could barely wash dishes correctly.
Besides, your knee wasn't hurt that bad. You just had maybe learned to exaggerate the pain in an effort to squeeze out as much free labor as you could.
It was working.
My goodness, it was working.
But when Raph showed up this time, he didn't bother to plant a fake expression of unbothered-ness (if that's even a word) to pacify you. "What?" he snarled.
A frown plumped your lips and instead of uttering another demand, you shook your head. "Nevermind." Without question or protest, he disappeared back in the hall and a few minutes later, you began to make your attempts to slide out of bed. There wasn't much to restrict you. Clad in just a long t-shirt and that black cast stiffening your leg, you just had to find a way to get up without feeling the pain you usually felt, the pain that sometimes made you blink back tears.
It wasn't like you couldn't move but you had gotten used to Raphaël helping you up, even carrying you sometimes. This time you would just have to try this without him.
The first few steps were fairly easy as you mainly slid your foot across the cool wooden floor but as soon as the door burst open, you were being barked at as if you were doing something other than just trying to walk. "What the hell are you doing?!"
"I'm going to grab something to drink."
"What?! You can't! That's all the way downstairs." In a hurry, he rushed to your side and gently grabbed onto your arm. "You don't even have your crutches."
"It's fine. I'm fine. Relax." Your attempts to pacify him weren't working and instead of fighting you on it, he simply lifted your small frame into his arms bridal style and placed you back into the bed.
"I'll get your water."
"Rapha..."
"Be back." And with that, he was jogging out of the room and down the steps. You huffed a sigh, looking down at the restriction on your leg that you twirled as much as you could. For a moment, you were actually admiring it.
"Maybe I do like this thing."