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flowersforbucky · 5 months ago

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moth to a flame

bucky barnes x reader / winter soldier x reader

"I know you. even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

word count: 4.9k

summary: bucky is triggered into the winter soldier during a mission and then goes MIA, until he seeks you out in the middle of the night.

warnings/tags: SMUT, canon divergence (bucky hasn't been successfully deprogrammed in this), kind of dub-con, language, some violence, reader is afab, no use of y/n, friends with benefits situation, angst with a happy ending, 18+ only

“You've reached Bucky. I can't answer the phone right now but leave me a mess–”

You hang up before the voicemail recording finishes. You already knew he wasn't going to answer, just as he hasn't answered any of the other thirty-something times you've dialed his number over the course of the last few days. Or read any of the two dozen text messages.

The messages had stopped delivering and the calls had started going straight to voicemail almost two days ago at this point. And yet you still got your hopes up every time you checked your phone, only to be met with gut-wrenching, nauseating disappointment.

It had now been three days of this - not to mention picking your cuticles until they bleed, flipping back and forth between every news station on your TV in hopes (and fear) of seeing his name, a few collective hours of sleep each night, and too much Red Bull.

Just when you were thinking about trying to kick your caffeine addiction, too.

Three days of feeling completely and utterly helpless.

You place the phone back down on your coffee table, staring down at the thick, white cast encasing your left leg from your foot to just under your knee.

Useless.

You knew you were doing what you physically could - the spread of laptops and tablets on the table in front of you continuously supplying data from facial recognition programs across the United States.

Realistically, you knew he could be on the other side of the world by now, but that didn't stop you from checking. It was the only thing that you felt you had any control over right now.

But it wasn't enough. Not when Steve, Sam, Natasha, Sharon, and every other currently able-bodied team member are out scouring every safehouse and known former HYDRA base in the tri-state area while you're holed up in your apartment with a fractured fibula and a brain that won't let you stop reliving the moments before he went missing.

“This is as straightforward as it gets,” Steve re-assures you both for what felt like the dozenth time that day. “You'll be in and out in no time.”

“So straight-forward that you're going to hang back here while we do all the dirty work?” You joke as you make the final adjustments to your parachute.

“We've been monitoring this base for months,” he reminds you. “This place is as abandoned as they come. Get in, get the intel from the database, and get back to the jet.”

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Bucky adds with a devious grin.

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Steve agrees.

If only things had been as simple as he had expected.

You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the moment that you and Bucky landed on the ground outside of the HYDRA base. You told yourself that you were being irrational - but you couldn't shake the looming feeling that something was going to go wrong.

“See?” Bucky says after removing the USB drive from the computer. He sticks the device in the breast pocket of his tactical vest before edging you towards the desk. “Easy-peasy. You've been worried for nothing.”

“I have not been worried,” you deny, leaning against the edge of the desk. “This place is just old, and smelly, and creepy.”

Bucky takes a step closer to you so that there's no space left between you. He places his hands on the desk on either side of you, enclosing you.

“You think that I can't tell when you're nervous?” He says quietly, studying your face. You can smell a lingering hint of cool mint from his mouthwash. “That I haven't spent enough time learning your body to read you like an open book?”

Your thighs clench together and your nipples pebble at his words. You're almost embarrassed at how easily his voice, his scent, his closeness elicits a physical response from your body. Almost.

“What I think,” you murmur against his mouth. His hands come to grip your hips as he nudges your thighs open, standing between your legs. “Is you're crazy if you're thinking about trying to fuck me in an abandoned HYDRA warehouse.”

He exhales a dramatic sigh. “You can't blame me for trying.”

“I am relieved to know that you'd even want to do that here,” you say, hopping down from where you're perched on the desk. “I really think that shows you've processed your trauma–”

You're cut off by the room going completely dark. Every light, every computer, turns to black.

Bucky's flesh hand instinctively reaches to grab your wrist in the dark, tugging you to him.

“What the fuck,” he groans under his breath.

“We need to get out of–” you start to state the obvious but close your mouth when the computer that you and Bucky had retrieved the data from turns back on.

And then a computer to the right - and then across the room - and another to the right - and one to left - until every computer is on and showing the exact same screen. Bucky's hand grips yours so tightly that it borders on being painful.

Displayed on dozens of screens throughout the room is the face of a man. A man who you've never met, but recognize immediately.

“Zola,” Bucky whispers almost inaudibly.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola addresses him with a perverted smile. “Welcome home,” his voice pours from every computer speaker throughout the room and echoes off the walls.

“Steve?” You whisper urgently, clicking on the communication device hidden in your ear. “Steve, we've got a prob–”

“There's no use in that,” Zola interrupts you. “It's too late. They're almost here.”

The following sixty seconds were a jumbled blur that you were still trying to piece together in your mind.

You remember hearing the stream of words spoken in Russian.

Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.

You remember Bucky screaming at you to run, the sound of Steve's voice in your ear telling you that back-up was on the way and asking a dozen questions that you were too overwhelmed to respond to.

Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.

You remember begging Steve to hurry. You remember pleading with Bucky to come with you to try to get away; pleading with him to just look at you, just stay with you, help is coming -

Benign. Homecoming. One.

You remember the moment that Bucky went completely still as the room was infiltrated by HYDRA agents.

Freight car.

You knew that Bucky wasn't there anymore. You could sense it in his stance, in the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, in his silence.

Before you could say anything else to him, close to a dozen HYDRA agents came barreling towards you both. He charged through them, taking down one after the next with ease, until there were just a few left standing.

It was a side of Bucky you'd never seen. You thought that you had witnessed his strength, his agility, his determination, his ruthlessness working beside him in this field - but you then saw just how much he had been holding back.

He fled past the remaining few, out the door and down the hallway of the warehouse. The agents turned to follow him, forgetting about you - until you threw a knife directly into one's neck from behind.

Another agent shot at you, the blow hitting your bulletproof vest and sending you flying backwards onto hard cement.

Before you could catch your breath, there was a sharp cracking noise and a blinding pain radiating from your lower leg - but it was short lived.

The last thing you recall is the man's boot swinging towards your face.

You woke up some number of hours later, in a hospital bed with your temple throbbing and leg elevated in a cast.

“Hey,” a soft voice calls from your right. Natasha stands up from the singular chair in the room, both concern and relief evident across her features. “You're okay,” she begins to assure you. “You have a concussion and a fractured–”

“Where's Bucky?” You interrupt her, your voice scratchy. You clear your throat. “Is he okay? Did Steve find him? Did HYDRA get–”

“HYDRA didn't get him. Steve took care of the last of the agents after him,” she stops you from rambling. There's an immediate sense of relief wash over you.

“But we haven't found him yet,” she adds carefully. “Everyone is out searching for him now. You know we won't stop until–”

A gentle knock on your apartment door snaps you back to reality.

You freeze, your heart jumping to your throat. You stand as quickly as you can manage, grabbing your crutches propped up next to you on the couch.

“It's just me,” a feminine voice calls from the other side of the door. Your heart goes from your throat to your stomach. Not him.

“I'm sorry, I should have text you first,” Natasha continues. “But I brought you food. Street tacos from–”

You turn the deadbolt and unhook the chain lock before swinging the door open.

“You look–”

“Like hammered shit?” You finish for her, nodding your head towards the inside of the apartment as indication for her to come in.

“I was going to say exhausted,” she says, walking past you with a large paper sack of take-out food. Your stomach growls at the aroma - when was the last time you ate something more than a bowl of cereal or granola bar?

“Your favorite,” she tells you, placing the bag on the kitchen counter. “Extra salsa verde and lime wedges. Have you gotten any sleep recently?” Her eyes skim across the empty energy drink cans littered around the kitchen.

You maneuver yourself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen's small island, leaning your crutches on the edge of the counter.

“Yes,” you mumble. “For forty-five minutes from 2:30 to 3:15 today.”

She lets out a long groan, rolling her eyes at you.

“You're supposed to be healing from a concussion,” she reminds you, taking a seat for herself. “Which generally doesn't include sleep deprivation and excessive use of computer screens.” She stares in the direction of the array of laptops that overcrowd the limited space of your coffee table.

“Did you find anything in Connecticut? What about Sam, is he back from New Jersey?” You ask, ignoring her concerns as you unbox your food.

“Connecticut was a dead-end,” she sighs. “We're still waiting to hear back from Sam. There's a safehouse up in Vermont that Steve wants to head to tomorrow–”

“You don't think there's a chance of him letting me tag along for that, do you?” You tap the edge of your cast against the base of the island with your foot.

Her eyes soften as she looks at you. You already knew the answer.

“I know this is really hard for you,” she says delicately. “I may not know exactly what has been going on between you and Barnes these last few months, but it's obvious you care a lot for him. We all do. We are going to find him and bring him home,” she assures you.

You nod at her in agreement, not quite trusting your voice enough to speak.

Your eyes sting as you attempt to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over. You had yet to allow yourself to spend any time crying these last few days and you didn't wish to start now.

Her words remind you that no one knows exactly why you are taking Bucky's disappearance so harshly. You assume that your friends have their suspicions about your and Bucky's arrangement but the two of you had agreed to keep it between yourselves.

They didn't know it had started off being a weekly occurrence - late Sunday evenings, your apartment. Or how it had quickly escalated from once a week to twice, and then from two times a week to three - and instead of just your apartment, it would happen anywhere the two of you had a private (and sometimes public) moment - up against the wall of the communal showers at the compound's gym, in the back of the Quinjet after missions while everyone else would be sleeping on the flight back home, even during team meetings with his hand creeping between your thighs while you try to stay quiet enough to not draw any attention to yourselves.

They didn't know you were supposed to be friends with benefits but that at some point during the days and nights spent underneath one another, the line between friends and something more became blurry for you.

You had just been too chickenshit to tell him.

Natasha sits across from you as you inhale the Mexican food that she brought you. She doesn't say anything else, just keeps you company in a comfortable silence as you eat your first legitimate meal in days.

“Thank you,” you tell her as you're finishing your food. “I appreciate you. I've been going a little crazy here by myself,” you add meekly.

“Of course.” She stands back up. “I would stay longer, but I've got to prepare for Vermont. We're leaving early in the morning.”

“Be safe. All of you,” you remind her. “Let me know if you guys find anything. Just tell me if there's anything at all I can do. And please let me know when you hear from Sam–”

“You'll be the first to know when there's anything to know,” she assures you gently.

“Thanks, Nat.”

“You just try to get some rest, okay?” She requests as she walks toward the door. “Maybe drink some water, possibly consider taking a nice, long shower…”

“Goodbye, Natasha.”

She's chuckling as she closes the door behind her.

You lower your nose to your armpit as soon as the door clicks shut, inhaling.

Maybe she makes a valid point about showering.

Half an hour later, there's a heavy rain beating against the windows of your apartment when you finish bathing. You secure a towel around your chest before yanking off the garbage bag that you had wrapped around your cast well enough for you to rinse off.

Belly full and body clean, you felt somewhat better; at least physically.

You listen to the rain pound down as you sit on the edge of the bathtub, massaging lotion into your skin, and wonder where Bucky is right now - if he's safe, if it's raining wherever he's at, if he's somewhere dry -

You come to a sudden halt in the middle of brushing your teeth. It's hard to tell over the deafening roar of the rain and your bathroom fan, but you could have sworn you heard the creaking of a door or window from your living room.

I double checked the door locks after Nat left, you rationalize to yourself. This apartment is on the fourth floor, no one is going to climb the fire escapes to–

There's an unmistakable shadow visible through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. It's gone as quickly as it appears.

Shit. You start to panic as you realize you left your cell phone in the kitchen. As quietly as you can, you look around the small room for something to defend yourself with. A hair dryer, dental floss, a few week’s worth of dirty laundry..

You hear the creaking of floorboards as footsteps seem to creep closer and closer to the bathroom door.

Crutches. You have two crutches. You can clobber them with your crutches.

“I can hear you,” you call to whoever is just beyond the door. “I know you’re out there.”

Silence. No hint of any further movement.

You place one crutch under your left armpit for support, keeping the other one ready to wield as a weapon. “You have ten seconds to get out of my apartment,” you say a bit louder, willing your voice not to waver. “I have a weapon.”

Yeah, a weapon. If you can call it that.

Ten seconds come and go, followed by another ten seconds.

You weren’t going to let someone play this game with you in your own home.

Taking one last deep breath and tightening your grip on the defense crutch, you sling the bathroom door open quickly.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, immediately relaxing your weight against the crutches, releasing the death grip that you had on your uninjured side.

It’s dark in your bedroom save for a few pale orange string lights hung around your bed frame and the light that spills in from the bathroom, but you would recognize his broad frame anywhere.

“Thank fuck you’re okay,” you exhale, swinging yourself over to where he stands at the foot of your bed. When you’re a little over a foot away from him, you realize he’s sopping wet - his hair dripping water droplets and his skin dewy. His clothing, the same clothing that you last saw him in three days ago, clings to his body like a second skin.

He remains still as a statue, and as silent as one.

“Are you okay?” You ask him apprehensively. You give him a once over, from head to toe. You don't see any noticeable injuries, but he is trembling.

“Bucky?” You ask in a small voice.

His lips are set in a hard line. He doesn't answer, just stares at you. Stares at you like he’s trying to figure out why he’s here.

Stares at you like he’s trying to decide if he knows you or not.

The immense relief that you had felt at knowing he's alive is washed away by a sinking feeling.

His eyes trail from your face and slowly down your towel-clad body. He pauses when he gets to your foot, glancing back and forth from your cast to the crutches on either side. His brows furrow together - almost like he's in pain.

“I'm okay,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “It's just a fracture,” you explain. “I'll be healed in no time.”

You notice that his features relax a bit at your words - just enough to give you hope that Bucky, your Bucky, is in there and he's listening to you.

Do whatever you have to do to keep him here. Don't let him out of your sight. Help him remember who he is, your inner monologue screams at you. Just don't let him run away again.

“Are you cold?” You ask him. You're not necessarily expecting him to answer, you're just trying to put him at ease. “How about we get you some dry clothes?” You add, nodding towards his drenched henley.

You retreat into the bathroom, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he'd left over the last time he had stayed the night - the night before he went missing. They were at the top of the laundry basket - maybe not the cleanest, but better that the wet, dirty clothing he's in currently.

You limp your way back over to where he stands at your bed, leaning against the mattress for support. You set your crutches down and hand him the shirt and pants, which he hesitantly accepts. He makes no move to remove the wet clothes from his body, instead gently places the dry clothes onto the mattress beside him.

“Would you like some help?” you offer cautiously, terrified of doing anything that could cause him to run. You slowly reach towards the clothing that he had just placed on the bed, but he stops you before you can pick the t-shirt back up - grasping your wrist in his vibranium hand.

You can’t stop the small gasp that escapes past your lips. His hold on you is firm, but not painful. You could rip your hand from him if you wanted to - but you don’t.

Instead, you let him hold your hand as he begins to rub his metal thumb in a circular motion next to yours. You’re frozen; watching him carefully as he examines the movements his metal digit makes on your skin.

The goosebumps that appear in the wake of his touch don’t go unnoticed by him. His eyes trail from where his hand holds yours and up the expanse of your arm, until they land on your exposed neck. The towel covering your midsection has started to come loose, hanging low enough to reveal the top of your breasts.

He drops your hand, taking a step closer to you. You have to remind yourself to breathe - your Bucky is in there. Your Bucky, who is gentle, and soft, and would never do anything to cause you harm.

You have to trust that.

He brings his vibranium fingers up to the edge of the towel, trailing them across the mounds of your breasts. Your nipples harden right away, visible through the thin material of the towel.

You would let this play out however he wants it to. However he needs it to.

When his index finger stops where the towel is tucked into itself at your side, you forget how to breathe. He pauses for a split-second before unhooking the cloth and letting it fall to your feet.

He drinks in the sight of you bare before him, his jaw clenched and pupils dilated.

Dozens of times he has seen you like this, and never have you felt so completely vulnerable under his gaze.

And still there's a slickness gathering at the apex of your thighs.

He brings his flesh hand to your waist, putting the faintest bit of pressure against your skin. You close your eyes at the sensation - he's barely fucking touching you and you could melt into him.

Your name falls off of his lips - it's barely even a whisper, nearly inaudible but unmistakable. Your name. He remembers your name.

“Bucky,” your voice cracks when you whisper his own name back to him. His eyes snap up to yours, a mix of realization and hesitation brewing in them.

You bring both of your hands to the tail of his wet shirt, giving him time to pull away before you start to tug the shirt upwards. He doesn't stop you - in fact, he raises his own arms to help you tug the soaked fabric off of him. You toss the shirt in the general direction of your bathroom.

You didn't think there would ever come a time that the sight of him getting naked for you wouldn't make you want to drool.

You unsnap the button of his tactical pants, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time, hyper-analyzing his expression for any sign of reluctance.

You dip your fingers past the waistband of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand travels lower.

He's already fully hard as you hold him, stroking him as best you can from inside the confines of his underwear and pants. You pump him in your hand and his head rolls back so that he's looking up at your ceiling.

Fuck, it takes all the restraint you possess to resist leaning forward and sucking on his neck.

Another time, you tell yourself, anxious about overwhelming him.

He curses under his breath - something in Russian that you don't recognize but the expression on his face indicates it to be a praise. There's a shift in his initially reserved, unsure demeanor when you begin to pump him faster.

His head snaps back down, his eyes raking up and down your body once more before he brings his hands to your lower back, maneuvering you against the bed.

You scoot until your back comes in contact with the cool satin of your pillows, relaxing into the bedding. At last Bucky begins to shed the layers of wet clothing covering his lower half, not taking his eyes off of your body as he removes his boots, followed by his pants and boxers.

He kneels on the mattress, crawling above where you lay. You want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to yours, but you are going to let him call the shots.

He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, nestling himself between your legs. He grasps your breast in his vibranium hand, giving it a firm squeeze before rolling your nipple between his icy fingers.

He lowers himself so that he's belly down on your mattress, his face inches away from your pussy. He removes his hand from your breast and you let out a small whimper of disappointment at the abrupt lack of sensation. He uses that same hand to hike your uninjured leg over his shoulder, securing his head between the soft interior of your thighs.

He kisses you, starting at your belly button and working his way to your center. His lips feel like fire against your skin. You keep your hips planted firmly on the bed, fighting the urge to thrust your pussy up to his face.

“Please,” you whine. “Bucky, please.” You swear you can see the faintest trace of a smirk that looks so undeniably Bucky.

You clench your thighs around his face and he lets out a low, guttural groan as his mouth makes contact with you.

Normally, Bucky closes his eyes while he's going down on you - gets completely lost in it. Right now, his eyes are wide open - making sure he doesn't miss the way your mouth gapes when he rolls his tongue around your clit and the way your chest heaves when he nudges his tongue inside you.

You don't know which you find hotter.

You can already feel the tightening of a coil in your lower belly, making it impossible to resist rolling your hips to meet the torturous pace he's set with his tongue. You grind against his face, the thin layer of stubble that's grown across his jaw since you last saw him scratching against the sensitive flesh around your cunt.

You're approaching your climax when he pulls away, making you mewl at the loss of contact. His face glistens with your slick.

He flips you onto your side, placing you on your left side so that your injured leg rests against the mattress. You prop your head up with your hand as he slides in behind you.

His chest presses against your back, the heat of his body warming you all over. His flesh hand juts between your thighs, raising your right leg high enough for him to slap his cock against your pussy.

He strokes himself in his hand while he teases your folds - lubricating himself with your juices.

You turn your head to look at him right as he sheaths himself inside you, filling you entirely in one swift motion.

Fuck, you have to taste yourself on him. You can't handle not having his mouth on yours for another second.

You tilt your head back enough to connect your mouth to his - every worry you once had about coming on too strong and overwhelming him melts away as he opens his mouth for you, moving his lips against yours in an effortless rhythm.

He starts slow, quickly working up to a rapid pace as he repeatedly slams into your cervix from the sweetest angle. The sounds that you're making for him are pornographic - moaning into his mouth as his flesh hand comes around your front, landing on your engorged clitoris. He rubs languid circles while he continues to pound into you from behind.

You pull your lips away from his when you feel your orgasm building. “You always make me feel so good, you know that?” You ask him breathily, your mouth now right next to his ear.

“Every time you fuck me, I'm more sure that no one could ever compare to you. You've ruined me for everyone else. There’s only you for me.”

“Fuck,” he curses and groans your name again - it's the closest he's sounded to his normal self, which only spurs you on.

“I’ve become so fucking addicted to you in such a short amount of time,” you say in between moans as the head of his cock hits your sweet spot just right. “Think about you anytime you're not near me, drives me fucking crazy.”

He flips you - doesn't pull out - so that you're now underneath him. He goes right back to the same brutal pace, bringing his flesh hand to cradle your face as he stares down at you.

Clarity - you recognize it plain as day on his features.

He gives you a few more fast, hard thrusts before you're milking his cock through your orgasm. You crash your lips to his and he's coming - filling you up with his warm seed as he kisses you senseless.

He gradually stills inside you, his body going limp on top of yours as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, peppering kisses across his scarred shoulder, where flesh meets metal.

“I'm so sorry if I scared you,” he murmurs against the sweat-slicked skin of your throat after a moment. “I wasn't myself. Not even entirely sure how I ended up here - it's like I was pulled in this direction - to you,” he sighs.

You're overcome with such an immense relief at hearing him speak that you could cry. You tighten your hold around him, rubbing your hands up and down his back.

“You could never scare me, Bucky,” you assure him. He pulls out of you, rolling off of you onto the bed beside you and tugging you to his chest. Your cheek rests just over his heart.

"I know you. Even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks for reading! as always comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

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f1byjessie · 11 months ago

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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part two.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and 17,349 others

tagged: logansargeant

yourusername from a little boy meeting his heroes to a young man racing alongside them, getting to see all you’ve accomplished throughout the years makes me the proudest sister in the world. 2024 better watch its back, because sargeants always come back swinging.

view all 2,863 comments

logansargeant we pack a mean punch too 👊

↳ yourusername the meanest 👊

user wait no cuz this is actually so cute omg??? i want a sister to make cute posts about me

user definitely can’t wait to see more y/n at the races in 2024

williamsracing It was lovely having you in the paddock this season Y/N! We’re already looking forward to seeing what 2024 has in store!

↳ yourusername it was a genuine honor to be there! plus i look great in blue 😉💙

↳ user wait does this mean logan is re-signing??

alex_albon me and lily would love to have you both come round during the break if schedules align!

↳ yourusername awwww alex!! speaking on behalf of logan, we’d love to!!

user i’m living vicariously through the sibling bond that the sargeant twins have

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 426,972

tagged: oscarpiastri

mclaren Some of our favourite meme-worthy images of Oscar from 2023! Which is your fav?

view all 2,632 comments

oscarpiastri guys…

user mclaren admin knows what the people want

↳ user mclaren admin feeding us well on this fine day

user these are actually so funny omg mans ain’t got no face filter

landonorris yea so this won’t be necessary for me pls and thx

↳ mclaren We already have the pictures ready! 👍

user i’ve made all of these faces at my tv this year

yourusername oh to be a rubber ducky in oscar piastri’s ice bath

↳ user OH? MY?? GOD???

↳ user UMMMM

↳ user real

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 835,781 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

landonorris papaya pals! looking forward to another season with you mate

view all 6,264 comments

user going into cardiac arrest

user damn oscar looking caked up

↳ user i’m glad i wasn’t the only one thinking it

oscarpiastri of all the pictures

↳ landonorris i giveth thy people what they want

↳ yourusername and we thank you for it sir lando 🫡

user MANIFESTING MORE PODIUMS FOR 2024

mclaren Looking forward to another year, boys! 🧡

danielricciardo you’re only posting these to show off your ass

↳ landonorris and if i am?

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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 11,263 others

yourusername i can still recall our last summer

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logansargeant it’s december 1st???

↳ yourusername it’s summer somewhere

user i wish i lived in florida

user MAMMA MIA REFERENCE

oscarpiastri ☀️

↳ yourusername 🌊

user i’m so delulu about what this could mean

↳ user it’s probably just an aesthetic caption?? y’all are fr crazy

↳ user no cuz it’s literally winter rn in the states so why would she post about summer?

↳ user bc she lives in florida?? where the weather is like summer all the time??

You lower your phone and look back to the dark waters crashing against the shore. Logan’s time in Formula 1 has meant you’ve been traveling around the world, getting to experience so much more than you’d ever imagined you would in your lifetime, but nothing compares to the familiarity and comfort of Florida— of home.

And your friends.

“So,” Sophia bumps her shoulder against yours, eyes alight with mischief when you turn to meet her expectant gaze. “Come on,” she teases, “tell me about him.”

You’ve been friends with her for a few years now, ever since moving back to the United States. She was born and partially raised in Belgium, so after spending so long in Europe, she’s the only one who understood the minor culture shock of moving back. You both clicked, and you’ve been stuck together ever since. You’ve learned, however, that if there’s one constant about her, it’s without a doubt her need to gossip about anything and everything— but specifically boys.

You huff out a laugh, “There’s no ‘he’ to tell you about.”

She hums into her glass of wine, eyeing you skeptically.

“There isn’t!” You laugh, shoving her lightly.

She gasps and feigns falling back onto the blanket spread out beneath you. She’s dramatic, too, and that’s another reason you matched so well. She feels like the sister you never had, which makes moments like this feel even more special.

“This back and forth with a certain OP-eighty-one suggests otherwise,” she sing-songs back at you as she sits up, making kissing faces and cackling when you shove at her again.

“I’m not sure how you even know about that,” you grumble. “You don’t even use Instagram.”

“Maybe not, babes,” she casts her gaze out across the ocean, “but I have my sources. So come on, between us girls and us girls only, tell me what’s going on.”

You heave a sigh, gulp down the last mouthful of wine in your glass, and then pour yourself another while she waits. You’re not getting out of this, and part of you does really want to talk about things. On top of being your brother and therefore way more protective than he needs to be, Logan is also Oscar’s best friend and you’re not sure what “bro code” is exactly, but you imagine not dating your friend’s sister is part of it— so he’s out of the question. You’d go to Dalton if you were sure he wouldn’t tell Logan, but they’re loyal to each other and have some sort of unspoken pact when it comes to your love life. You joked once that instead of your dad, it’d be them waiting at the door with a shotgun if you ever brought a guy home, but you’re not sure it was a joke at all with how they act sometimes.

“It started in Bahrain,” you begin, rolling your eyes when she wiggles excitedly and turns her undivided attention to you. “I’ve known him for a while because he and Logan have driven together since they were young, so I messaged him after the race to say that it sucked he had to retire so early into it.”

“And?”

You shoot her a look. “And, we kept talking. One thing led to another and we met up for drinks…” You fiddle with the rim of your glass, glancing back out to the water. You can’t tell if the heat on your face is because you’re embarrassed, or from spending so much of your day under the Floridian sun. “That’s it.”

“That’s it?” She asks incredulously.

“Well—” you purse your lips. “We kissed. Once. When he dropped me off at the hotel. But it was probably just the alcohol or something. I don’t think he wanted it to mean anything. I bet he just wanted to have fun but couldn’t because he had to leave early in the morning.”

She sends you a look. “He was sober enough to drive you back… but you think it was alcohol influencing his decisions? And he kissed you, even knowing he wouldn’t be able to ‘have fun?’ Right. Didn’t mean anything at all.”

You shake your head and huff. “He was upset because he’d had such high hopes for his first Grand Prix and it ended poorly, and I was there to comfort him, so maybe that’s why. He got caught up in the moment, or something.”

“Y/N, I love you. I do. You’re my best friend and you’re like a little sister to me,” she cups your face in her hands and turns you to look at her. “But you can be so dense sometimes, do you know that?”

“Then why hasn’t he brought it up?” You ask, your voice garbled slightly from the way her hands squish your cheeks together. “We saw each other again in Melbourne, to celebrate him getting his first points, and he didn’t say anything then. Or Miami, or England, or Japan.”

She gives you another look and lets your face go. “It’s a two-way street, babe. Why haven’t you brought it up?”

And… that’s a good point. You technically could’ve brought it up, too. You’d just been so afraid of how he would’ve reacted that you’d chosen to keep quiet, preferring uncertainty over rejection. It’s the same reason why you so rarely pursue the things you want. A fear of rejection stands in your way, and you realize suddenly that you could’ve ruined things with someone you genuinely like just because you were afraid.

“You know, like, Schrodinger’s cat," you start meekly. "If you don’t open the box, the cat is dead and alive, because you don’t know. So I never brought it up. Because not knowing is better than him telling me it was nothing.”

She reaches out and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side. When she speaks again, her voice is calmer, less accusatory, a murmur against the ambiance of the hissing tide— “But what if he tells you it’s something?”

You groan. “He probably thinks I’m not interested.”

“Y/N—”

“Oh God!” You pull away and bury your face into your hands. “I ruined it all!”

She pries your hands away and looks you in the eye. There’s a sparkle in her gaze, it’s the look she gets when she has a plan.

“You haven’t ruined it. We just have some work to do.”

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis

━━ a/n: i am overwhelmed by the amount of love on the first part of this! genuinely did not anticipate it at all, and i'm so thankful. so here's the second part! i hope it does justice to the first!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris

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evergreenlake · 16 days ago

Text

And Fate was on His Side

Chapter 1

1.1k words

tw: mentions of cheating and hook ups, violence, guns and terrorism (please let me know if I have forgotten anything)

Price x F!Reader, Secret Baby Trope

an: Okay this is just a small note before the chapter starts. I just wanted to warn everyone that this is my first fic, so any of my descriptions of violence may suck lol. And since I don't really have a beta reader this was just barely edited by me and Grammarly lol. But a warning for the future some characters may seem ooc since I do not have much practice writing for them. Anyways that's all I hope you all enjoy.

series masterlist

next chapter

Most people who have been in a relationship for multiple years think that they'll last forever. Unfortunately, that does not always happen. And y/n is one of the unlucky ones. Her boyfriend of five years slept with his boss's wife. So she broke up with him and decided to travel abroad finally.

She decided to head to England as she'd always been curious about it. When she was out and about on her sightseeing she found out about this bar everyone was raving about. So she decided that after everything that happened back in the States, she deserved a drink. While at the bar she met the most attractive man she's ever seen. They ended up chatting for a while and she decided to finally get out of her comfort zone for once. So they ended up hooking up and the man was gone the next morning. Y/n ended up leaving London the next day.

About 2 months later, she finds out about the twins. The young woman decided to keep them, as she didn't have any plans for future relationships. And she also has always wanted to have kids, so 9 months later she ends up having a boy and a girl. Their names are Daniel, or Danny as his nickname, and the girl was named Mia.

Now Y/n did end up raising the twins alone, along with the help of her friends and family. Well, she did it alone for 16 years, until the day fate brought her and Captain John Price back together.

"Danny come on! You're gonna make us late. Mom has already got the car started. " Mia was standing at the bottom of the stairs as she yelled for her twin brother. Their mutual friend's birthday was today. Shay wanted to spend it at the mall with the twins and some other people.

Danny was taking forever to get ready, his twin thought it was cause he didn't want to go. In reality, he just has a crush on Shay and wants to make sure he looks good. He sighs as he finally stops messing with his hair and quickly comes down the stairs.

Mia was waiting at the door impatiently with a small frown. She was all bundled up in her winter coat with a beanie and her gloves. It was early winter, so the temperature was freezing. Once Danny finally got his coat on they hurried to the car.

Laughing Mia beat him to the front seat and he grumbled getting in the back. Y/n watches the twins with a small smile, she shakes her head with a huff before she asks " Are you two finally ready to go? Shay might be there already. " The twins just groaned before she put the car in drive, and then they were on their way to the mall.

It didn't take long for them to get there, and as soon as their mother had parked. The twins jumped out of the car and were hurrying towards the front of the mall. Back in the car, Y/n sighs, she grabs her purse before she quickly follows after them.

The twins were talking with Shay and the other two people that were there. Standing to the side was Shay's mother. Y/n happened to be close to Grace so she decided to help watch after the 5 teens.

Grace sent Y/n a cheeky smile before she grabbed her arm. " Can't wait to feel so old following them around. I have no clue what they have planned but apparently, they've made a list of places they want to go. I've told Shay we would just follow them around. " Y/n smiles a little before looking at the group of five and she hums a little. " I don't expect anything too wild out of them. Though I do think they may spend a ton of time at the arcade." She let out a small laugh and both of the women started following the kids into the mall.

And just like what was predicted the first place they stopped was the arcade. Shay and Daniel would split off from Mia and the other two. Grace and Y/n shared a small smirk as they watched them.

The adults would wait by the front of the arcade for them. Just gossiping about everyday things, mostly what their teens were up to. At one point Mia came back and just sat next to her mom quietly. She was quite the book nerd, she brought The Hunger Games with her so she could finish her third read-through.

After some time of the teens playing games, they came back over. All of them were now ready to move on to another store. As the group was leaving the arcade a loud explosion shook the building. Chaos was now what the mall atmosphere was like. People were running, others were getting under doorways.

The teenagers had looked to the adults scared, and unsure of what to do. Grace and y/n looked at each other before they started trying to herd the kids through the crowd and to the exit. And not even five minutes later they could hear gunshots. Shay and Mia immediately started screaming. Daniel quickly grabbed onto both of them and followed after the other two teens. While the five of them headed towards a store the adults were right behind them.

As the group was almost to the store, a group of masked men came around the corner. They looked like they were in some kind of tactical gear. Y/n's eyes had widened as she saw them and as soon as they lifted their guns she pushed Grace towards the children. Daniel had turned back as he heard Grace cry out a little. And he was immediately screaming his mother's name as he watched a bullet enter her shoulder.

The woman stumbles into the store as Daniel makes his way back to her. The employees of the store were motioning people to head towards the back room. Grace and her daughter quickly made their way there with the other two teens. Mia turned around and headed toward her mother and Daniel. The three of them barely made it to the register before the men were in the front of the store.

The family of three were now hiding behind the counter. This is because as soon as the employees had seen the group of men outside the store, they rushed into the backroom and shut the door. So the three of them were stuck behind the counter until either the men found them, or someone came to save the day. Little did anyone know, a group was on their way. This group had experience with dealing with a terrorist group like this.

Task Force 141 was on their way to take out the terrorists that were now wreaking havoc upon the mall.

Taglist:

@miss-vanta-likes-to-write @galactict3a

#john price x reader #john price x female reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price #secret baby trope #captain john price x female reader #cod mw2 fic #cod fic #reader insert #price x reader #price x female reader

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shortstrawberry · 1 year ago

Note

Continuation---

In two long steps, Donna was all over you, engulfing you in her arms. You let out a small gasp as your girlfriend buried her face in your chest.

You slowly raised your hands to hug her back. When your fingers reached her back, you felt it tremble beneath your fingertips.

"Donna?" You softly ask, and your girlfriend broke into sobs.

"I am sorry, god I'm so sorry! Ti prego, perdonami. Sono la ragazza peggiore di sempre!!"

You couldn't understand the Italian, but you have a fair idea that your girlfriend was being self deprecating again.

You tried to comfort her, first by embracing her back tightly. Then, with your words.

"You saved me, Donna. If you weren't here on time--"

"Don't!" Donna snapped, pulling away only to cup your face in her bare hands. You shivered. It's rare for Donna to be without her globes.

"I will never let anything happen to you, okay!? Ucciderò quella stronza questa volta. Ti giuro."

Again, you didn't understand a word, but you have a feeling Donna is swearing violence on whoever tried to harm you.

Donna was not done yet, as she went on, her lips coming down to graze your forehead."

"To think that I was so harsh to you this morning, cara mia. What worth is my career if I don't have you with me? Please forgive me, cara mia."

You swallowed, now feeling like crying as morning's sad memories rush back to you.

"I didn't want to take you away from your work. I just wanted you to rest."

Donna kisses your forehead again, this time lingering in apology.

"I know, I know my dolcezza. I was wrong for shouting at you. So wrong. I promise, it won't happen again. You are my equal, cara mia. Please forgive me for treating you like a lesser person."

You blinked back tears and nodded. You felt Donna hug you tighter, clearly not wanting to let you go anytime soon.

"Come, let me make this up to you. I'll cook you your favourite pasta today. Do you want a bubble bath?"

"Will you be in it with me?" You softly ask, and in return Donna kissed the side of your head.

"Of course, Dolcezza. Anything and everything for you."

Requests open. Although it might take me a while to answer!

Professor Donna and a stabby Mia in a tense stand off over MC

Okay, lessgooo

TW: mild violence

You were looking lost in a small corner at the college library, searching for a Botany book for your next test. Ideally, this would have never even been required as Donna usually lends you her books all the time.

But your girlfriend is right now in her Professor mode, buried neck deep in grading. It's the exam time, and that means your girlfriend is most time either invigilating the exams or is checking papers.

You sighed, keeping another book back at the shelf. You understand your girlfriend has responsibilities, of course. But it's just been a couple of months since you two started to seriously date. So to have your time cut short so soon has you a little miffed.

It also doesn't help that last time you nagged Donna to get some break, she became a little...snappy at you.

I am busy! I have responsibilities !I cannot be with you all the time!

Those words spoken in Donna's harsh voice made you flinch. You had wanted to retort that no, you just want the overburdened professor to have a break! It's okay if she doesn't spend time with you! But no, instead you just stupidly nodded your head, and left her.

And here you are hiding away in library. Donna has called you thrice by now, probably to apologise, but you just don't want to talk to her right now.

You'll probably end up crying.

Before you can start sniffling at your pathetic state, you heard a rustle behind you. You turn around, and there stood Mia Winters, the local sorority head and treasurer of the student council. And she was leering down at you with murder in her eyes.

You gulped, stepping back. Something doesn't feel right.

"Hello. How can I help you?"

Mia only sighed at you in what looks like pity.

"I wish it didn't have to come to this. Why can't you make the correct choice for once?"

You have absolutely no idea what she's saying. But you get this deja vu feeling, as if this has happened before.

"I have no idea who you are, but I do feel like saying that the correct choice is not necessarily the right choice."

That seems to be the wrong thing to say, because Mia, no kidding, took a knife out and waved at you.

"And this is exactly why this keeps happening, every single time. You always choose her."

Before you could ask who, or run away for that matter, Mia lunged for you. You let out a loud scream, ducking down in hopes it will somehow save you.

But the knife never came for you. Instead there was a loud crash, as if someone was shoved against the library shelf. You heard the books clattering down on floor.

You opened your eyes slowly, and saw a very angry Botany professor holding Mia against the library shelf in a chokehold.

"You fucking bitch. Ti ucciderò una volta per tutte!"

If you thought this morning Donna was angry, this Donna was downright furious. Her pale was was twisted in a murderous rage, just seconds away from killing Mia.

Shit, you have to do something. You cannot have your girlfriend be jailed for murder of a student! Even if she's just defending you!

You hurriedly got up, then slowly approached Donna, who was now tightening her squeeze on Mia's neck.

"Donna, let her go. She's not worth it."

Donna in response squeezed harder, making Mia kick and thrash against her.

"Oh no, cara mia. She tried to kill you! Take you away from me!"

You have a feeling that Donna knows more then she is letting you on. That somehow this has happened before. But you let it go for now.

You place a soft hand on your girlfriend's tense shoulder, trying again.

"Please. If you do this, you'll be taken away from me. People will accuse you, babe. Let her go! I promise, we'll sort it out later!"

Those words seems to get to her, as Donna blinked a few times to get her bearings back. Then with a frustrated cry, she threw Mia down on the floor, with a spitting warning.

"Consider yourself lucky that my girl is so compassionate. Even though you don't deserve a single ounce of it!"

For a moment, just for a moment, guilt flashed on Mia's eyes. But it was soon take over by fear, as she scarmbled away from the scene.

That just leaves the two of you, alone.

#resident lover #donna beneviento #resident evil village #resident evil #requests open #resident evil 8 #professor donna #mia winters #donna beneviento x y/n #donna beneviento x you

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quigonswife8 · 2 years ago

Text

Ethan Winters || Chris Redfield x reader who gets hurt

Since i'm a new resi fan I thought it would be perfect to start writing resident evil fics. So here's something about my two of my favorite characters :)

Warnings: injuries, swearing.

For Ethan's part you are in place of Mia, so everything basically happens the same. Just in this you end up leaving to look for him in the village, you aren't experimented on like how Mia was. Sorry if that doesn't really make sense.

Ethan:

[Gif creds: @darkened-writer]

"Ethan.." you mutter, watching as the werewolf gets ready to charge towards the man. Ethan is knocked out so he doesn't know that he's about to be killed.

The werewolf doesn't pay any mind to you, but that's about to change. Gripping onto the gun tighter you take a deep breathe before screaming "HEY!" and shooting up to grab it's attention more.

Come on you look at him. The werewolf, you'd found is called Varcolac, huffs, and then turns in your direction. "Yeah! Come and get me..."

He slowly moves away from Ethan as to get ready to charge at you. The pure adrenaline running through you pushes away any fear that you should be feeling, and as you look back at Ethan again, you notice how he's starting to wake.

You can't won't let anything happen to him, he deserves to live. With one last look at Ethan you quickly break into a sprint, drawing the werewolf away.

----

You fall to your knees, letting the gun fall to the ground. The blood on your hands marking the ground as you press them to it- your breathing is heavy and you feel like passing out, but you're relieved that the wolf is finally dead.

"(y/n)?!"

You look forward, watching as Ethan limps over to you. This of course makes you stand, but the pain in your side forces you back to the ground. "(Y/N)!". Despite the amount of pain he's in Ethan runs the rest of the distance to you, his eyes so full of sadness, and when he kneels down in front of you, he checks you over for any other injuries.

"What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking..." you begin "...that I made sure you didn't die" a weak smile grows on your lips, and you chuckle. "That worked out didn't it?"

Ethan blinks a few times trying to wrap his head around what just happened. To be honest he wants to be furious at you- he nearly lost you, and you mean everything to him. However you did save his life and because you're happy that he's alive, he realizes he shouldn't be feeling furious.

He sighs and then manages to crack a smile. Then he nods, thankful.

"Thank you."

Chris:

[Gif creds: @hermaeusmoras]

You sneak through the mansion to one of the safe rooms. Chris is waiting there for you, he'd commed and had let you know which safe room he was waiting in.

It's good that he's safe, and he's okay. You can't say the same for you however, as you have a large gash on your shoulder that can only be fixed up with items available in that safe room. With a makeshift bandage pressed to your shoulder you pick up speed.

"Shit!"

You grab the lighter out of your pocket, quickly setting fire to the zombie. It's hisses and snarls fill your ears, and as it shakes violently, you back away quickly. Man you swear you can hear your heartbeat in your ears because it's so loud, it hammers against your chest.

Finally the zombie is dead dead. Shaking you put the lighter away, but you don't move. All you can do is stare at the corpse in front of you, blinking slowly, breathing slowly. "Jesus." you've been in this mansion for two hours- two hellish hours- and it's only now starting to take it's toll on you.

"(y/n)."

Chris's face comes into view- his worried face, to be exact- he is leaning down to properly meet your eyes. He wants to spend time making sure you're alright, but not there as it's safer in that room. He can tell that you're traumatised. Even as a S.t.a.r.s. member you never would have been prepared for this.

"We have to go."

He grabs your hand and pulls you to the safe room, just in time to miss a few zombies lunging at you both. He practically throws the door shut, and his fingers work away quickly, the door locking, and he protectively moves in front of you. There's no way those zombies will get in, but it's more of a safety measure.

You stand there in silence listening to the zombies slowly move away from the door, until their grunts and groans can only be heard in the distance. "Okay..." Chris sighs, turning to look at you. "I think we're good now.."

Thank god

You want to cry with relief, but you can't because if you start crying you know you won't stop. "Man am I happy to see you." You put a hand on Chri'ss arm, and Chris is equally as happy to see you. Maybe more. He's not happy that you're hurt, though, as he had managed to catch a glimpse of the gash on your shoulder.

Now that you're there he can fix you up- well if you'll let him.

"I'm happy to see you too (y/n)..."

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming." you raise an eyebrow.

"...but..." he continues chuckling at what you had said. "...I need to fix you up before we head back out there. If that's..."

You're surprised he'd noticed your gash since he'd been so focused on getting you inside instead of anything else. Not that you mind, though, since you were going to tell him anyway.

"Yes please." usually being the one to fix yourself up, but being too exhausted after that whole run-in with the zombie. "...that would be perfect Chris, thank you."

You walk over to the nearby bed, while Chris gets whatever is needed to mend to your shoulder.

#ethan winters #chris redfield #ethan winters x reader #chris redfield x reader #resident evil 1 #resident evil village #resident evil

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rosestarlightkatarina · 2 months ago

Text

Give our girlfailure some time

She’s trying her best

#resident lover #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #incorrect resident evil village quotes #re8 incorrect quotes #mother miranda x y/n #mother miranda x mc #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda #mia winters x mc #resident lover mia #mia winters x y/n #mia winters x reader #mia winters #resident lover meme

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simpsforwomen · 2 years ago

Note

hello helloooo, i may send this request to other authors (only my favorites tho)

could you do a wednesday addams x gn! reader where the reader can stop time but anyone who is touching them will not be frozen? so like the reader is just like "hey wednesday,(or whatever nickname they have for her) come with me for a sec" and it obviously takes a bit of begging but then they go outside in the rain or snow and the reader just grabs wednesdays hand and puts the other hand up and stops time so the snow or rain just sits there in mid air. could probably make this super fluffy

-C<3

✧ reply: Hewo! Thank you for your request. I'm honored to be one of the authors you're sending this to. I hope I'm understanding the prompt correctly and that this piece is close to what you asked for <3

❦ 𝗣𝗼𝘄𝗱𝗲𝗿

✧ warnings: n/a

✧ pairing(s): Wednesday Addams x gn!reader

✧ summary: (request)

✧ word count: 534

✧ a/n: this my first attempt writing something fluffy. i feel so bad for making you wait this long. i'm also working on a fluffy larissa fic so stay tuned hehe. please let me know if you notice any grammatical errors or if you have any comments/feedback. enjoy!

☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎☠︎︎

You and Wednesday have been dating for a few months now and even though she knew of your powers, you never really showed them to her.

It was a wonderful winter morning when you looked outside at the falling mixture of rain and snow, suddenly coming up with an idea. You headed over to your girlfriend's dorm and knocked gently. A few moments later, you were met with a familiar deadpan stare.

"Cara mia." Wednesday greeted you while moving to the side, 'welcoming' you in.

"Good morning, ma chérie." You smiled, stepping inside.

Looking around, you notice that Enid was most likely sleeping over at Yoko's and you had interrupted your girlfriend's writing time. As you sat on her bed, she immediately went back to her desk to be in front of her typewriter.

"So..." You started. "I was thinking, we could take a walk together in the snow."

"Not right now. We can in exactly 34 minutes and 22 seconds." Wednesday answered as she continued to type without hesitation.

"But-" You were cut off before you could say another word.

"(Y/N), we can later." She stated softer than you expected.

"Pleaseee? I'm afraid it'll be too rainy later and- and the rain will wash away all the fluffy snowww." You pouted, walking over to sit on the ground next to her. "Pleaseee?" You begged, gently tugging on her sweater.

Wednesday had a soft spot for you, so of course, she agreed.

"Fine." The sound of typing suddenly stopped when she finally turned to face you.

Standing up, she walked towards the door with you following not too far behind. And in just a few minutes, the two of you were already outside—holding hands.

"Don't let go okay?" You asked and she nodded, having an idea of what you were going to do next.

Taking a deep breath, you focused on your powers and lifted your free hand. All of a sudden, everything around you froze. Everything except Wednesday.

Admiring the frozen snow, she reached out to touch it with her finger. You watched as she looked at it in awe.

"I'm very impressed, (Y/N)" Wednesday turned to you, her eyes wide.

You knew that was her way of showing excitement so you smiled back.

"I'm glad you like it. I've been practicing. You stated proudly.

Leaning closer to you, she gave you a gentle kiss as you held her face with your delicate fingers. It was short and sweet.

You looked into her softened eyes, her dark—dark eyes, losing yourself in them. "You look gorgeous, mon amour..."

She almost let the corners of her lips curl up to that but she tugged at your hand instead. "Come, I want to show you a favorite spot of mine."

Following her, she led you to sit under a snowy willow tree. Laying in her lap, she caressed your hair while whispering words of affection.

"Aren't you glad you stopped writing to be with me?" You asked softly, looking up at her.

Wednesday leaned down to give you a kiss, one that was longer than you expected—not that you were complaining. "I wouldn't miss being with you for the world, querida."

#wednesday x y/n #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday #wednsday addams #nevermore #oneshot #gn reader #request #fluff #fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday fanfic

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shogvnate · 2 years ago

Text

Insomnia. headcannons

re8 ladies with a s/o who's an insomniac

contains; mother miranda, mia winters, alcina dimitrescu, donna beneviento, bela dimitrescu, cassandra dimitrescu, daniela dimitrescu.

‎

warnings; none.

‎

🐦‍⬛ mother miranda

honestly she's also an insomniac herself so it's not really a problem for her

if you're not busy, she'll ask you to accompany her while she's doing late night experimenting.

she's… surprisingly domestic?

she doesn't talk much when it's late (she doesn't talk much in general though), and you don't either so it works out.

sometimes forgets that you're not a mutant like her, but when she remembers she'll help you fall asleep. She'll find a way, she's a scientist, after all, a mad one at that. Nothing is impossible with her.

entertains you with her crows if her experiments get too dangerous for you.

the type to make you play chess with her over a cup of tea.

you have zero idea how to play so she teaches you.

???

how did the two of you end up playing uno??

…

why are the two of you playing go fish now?

🪡 donna beneviento

also an insomniac

but she's not as noticeable because she wears a veil and no one really sees her face.

late night reading, not healthy for both of your eyes but who cares?

donna is surprisingly active at night (not like that).

living with her includes hearing the kitchen being rummaged at 3 am only to find out it's her trying to cook pasta.

either that or she's trying to find her missing tool.

she can be forgetful sometimes and you are too, but remember, two negatives makes a positive! (you two still haven't found where your blue pen went.)

makes you and herself some soothing lavender tea.

she wears her hair down when it's late, and she's fucking gorgeous goddamn.

the sight of her alone makes you sigh dreamily.

you don't need sleep, you're already living the dream.

angie bites your toes if you look at donna funny for too long.

🍷 alcina dimitrescu

for the love of all that is holy, please stop trying to scare the maidens, it's 2 in the morning.

she's very tired.

she's the opposite of an insomniac, her line of work makes her really cranky at night.

technically she doesn't need sleep, but it's refreshing so she does it and hates when she's disturbed.

just imagine having to be a single milf girlboss with a massive dump truck, must be tiring for her, damn.

sorry. anyway, she'll find a way to help you.

perhaps you need medicine? she can give the Duke a quick late night call and make either Cassandra or Bela fetch them (because she doesn't trust the maidens will come back alive if she sent them this late.)

sits up with you until you're tired, but all the time she'll look like someone who hadn't had a blink of sleep since 500 b.c.

you decide to help her sleep instead, you don't mind.

so you ended up being cuddled by her while she's in her deep sleep, yay!

❄ mia winters

she's tired, not like alcina kind of tired, but just tired.

at some point in the night, she noticed you're not sleeping next to her, again, which made her wake up and get you.

you make her feel safe and when you're not there she gets reminded of her Louisiana days, which, isn't fun.

depending on the day, she can either haul you back to bed for her to cuddle or ask you whether you need something to calm your nerves.

stays up with you, but falls asleep in the end.

cuddling on the sofa with her is heaven so you don't mind.

in the morning you'll be so sore and stiff though, because when she cuddles, she's not even a koala, she's literally merging with you.

her warmth usually brings you to sleep, it's likely her general comforting presence that helps you.

buys you medicine to help with your insomnia if you ask so, but she'll do it tomorrow.

for now, she'd like to rest.

🦇 bela dimitrescu

contrary to alcina, the three of her daughters, and especially, bela, are insomniacs.

they do random shit at 1 in the morning.

one time bela got dragged into having a karaoke session, which meant you also got dragged by the other two sisters (read: daniela).

it's fun though, you got a good laugh from them.

which is great considering your insomnia is making you more and more mentally exhausted.

once they all let their energy out, bela can finally get some time with you.

bela may or may not bring you to her bedroom, depending on whether or not her sisters will tease her for it.

doesn't know how to make tea, so don't hope she does or ask her for it.

silence.

it gets really awkward when she's just sitting there staring at you and expecting you to just get bored and sleep.

you end up having candlelit dinner? breakfast? at 3 am.

🗡️ cassandra dimitrescu

as mentioned before she also has insomnia. she sometimes still manages to sleep though, but it usually happens at day or at random times.

after the whole late night shenanigans, usually she's the most tired because she matches daniela's endless energy but also bela's crankiness.

she enjoys laying down doing particularly nothing so expect her to lay on the same bed as you while staring blankly at the ceiling.

when asked she usually takes a few moments to respond, and as it turns out, she accidentally slept with her eyes open. kinda neat.

she's also like daniela, she can't sit still.

may make random small talks before she just… had it.

so she decided to ask you to spar with her in the armor room.

if you're tired, she'll suggest doing something else like taking a walk around the castle.

one time she's feeling generous, she actually asked you to waltz on the grand hall.

she still remembers the steps despite being dead for God knows how long but you absolutely have zero idea how to waltz.

and you're losing your shit whenever she smiles at you softly.

how uncharacteristic for the murderous vampire who gouged a maid's eyes out for looking at you wrong.

needless to say, your nights are always productive with cassandra.

🌹 daniela dimitrescu

with daniela, it's like gambling your sanity.

there's half the chance that she's feeling hyper that night, or the other being that she's feeling hella tired and doesn't want to be disturbed by the maids. (meaning if she sees someone messing up while she's in this mood, there'll be one more barrel in the cellar.)

either way, none of them meant anything good for you.

drags you to the library to read her stories, more often than not, she's asking you to read her fairy tales which is super valid. I also love them.

makes you play with her hair while you're reading.

very unpredictable, no wonder she's dimitrescu's wild card.

she sleeps when her energy runs out, which may take a long time.

she sleep talks, mostly slurring out your name or whining about how cassandra is always so unfair to her.

softly snores

you always end up being the one cleaning her mess if a maid died that day.