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cherienymphe · 4 months

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Teenage Dirtbag V (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Happy New Year *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You narrowly missed the hanger coming your way as Rafe ripped dress after dress out of your closet, clothes and hangers flying around the room as a result of his rage. You could do nothing but stand there with your arms folded over your chest, biting the inside of your cheek as you stared at him with a tearful glare. You flinched when a dress hit you square in the chest, and it wasn’t long before Rafe’s face was right in front of yours.

“Sometimes I swear you do this shit on purpose.”

“My mother bought me this dress, you know she bought me this dress-.”

“…and I hated it then for the same reasons I hated it today.”

You swallowed at the words he spat in your face, and when he moved closer you turned your head. Rafe was quiet for some time, just staring at you while you stared at your bathroom door. His breathing was even, so the deep breath he took was noticeable.

“Do you like being stared at like…like a piece of meat?” he quietly wondered.

“What kind of question is that?” you slowly asked, facing him.

Rafe’s hair kissed his forehead, strands going every which way as a result of his actions. His blue eyes were cold as he stared you down, a frown on his face.

“One I expect an answer to.”

He blinked at you, and you shifted on your feet.

“Of course not,” you whispered.

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Rafe-.”

“I have eyes, you know,” he bit out, backing away from you and kicking a stray dress on the floor. “You think I didn’t see the way some of my dad’s friends were looking at you? You knew exactly what you were doing.”

A few tears spilled over at his words, and you quickly wiped your face. The sequined dress you currently had on was a holiday gift from your own mother last year. She’d loved it, and you’d loved it too, but when Rafe told you he wasn’t crazy about it, you really hadn’t given it much more thought. You just filed it away under one of those dresses you could only wear once a year.

You hadn’t expected a fight to break out over the sight of it.

Rafe’s jealousy fueled rampage only served to make you feel even worse. He spoke about Ward’s friends like it was something you wanted and not something that made you deeply uncomfortable. You did not relish in the attention from men old enough to be your father—some of them older than your own father—and having that thrown in your face just made you angry.

“Fuck you,” you defeatedly whispered.

Rafe snapped his head up, a glint in his eye as his face evened out.

“Excuse me?”

You wiped your face again, shaking your head.

“I said fuck you. Fuck you for throwing that in my face like I wanted that,” you tearfully continued. “Like I wasn’t uncomfortable-.”

Your words were cut off when Rafe gripped your chin and cheeks, pressing his fingers and thumb into your skin so harshly you winced.

“Well, maybe you should’ve worn a different dress.”

He shoved you away from him, causing you to stumble in your heels. He stared you down, challenging you to say something else, and you could only stare back, thinking to yourself that you wanted to be as far away from Rafe as possible. With a scoff, you stomped past him, unsurprised when you heard him right on your heels.

“…and where do you think you’re going?”

He stopped you at the top of the stairs with a harsh grip on your elbow, forcing you to face him.

“Away from this house, away from you, I don’t care,” you choked out. “Anywhere.”

“Well, maybe you should go buy a whole new wardrobe while you’re out,” he told you, a small smirk on his lips. “Who knows what I might do to that one in there.”

You pushed at his hand, trying to get him to let go when he shook you. You stumbled, a foot falling to a lower step, and you sharply inhaled. Rafe only chuckled, tilting his head to eye your foot.

“Careful,” he warned you. “My hand might just slip, and then you won’t be going anywhere.”

“Let go of me,” you demanded, and Rafe did, but not without a slight shove attached.

If your other hand hadn’t been on the railing, you would’ve stumbled down more than three steps. You hissed when your knee hit the wood, and pushing yourself to your feet was futile when Rafe shoved you again with a knee to your back. You were just barely able to throw your hands out to break your fall, a pained cry escaping at the flare in your knees as you hit the bottom.

His footsteps were loud as he cleared the remaining steps, and you were about to attempt to push yourself to your feet again when the harsh feel of his palm was on your head, pushing you down.

“Try to get up again, and I’ll rip your hair out.”

You froze, sitting back down as you kept your tearful gaze on the floor.

Your parents were still at the Camerons’, so the house was quiet save for your heavy breathing. Being alone with Rafe was always either good or downright terrifying. There was no in between. You didn’t move when he slowly started to move his fingers over your scalp, nothing soothing about the action. You heard your boyfriend heave a deep sigh.

“You’re the one who ruined this night…not me,” he slowly said, and you swallowed. “So, maybe a drive around the block will do you some good. Help you clear your head.”

Rafe shoved your head away from him before turning around, and you wiped your face.

“Don’t make me come find you,” were his parting words as he ascended the stairs.

You sat on the floor for what felt like way too long before finally pushing yourself to your feet. Your vision was blurry as you reached for your keys, and you quietly closed the door behind you, recalling the last time you dared to slam the door after a fight. You felt no solace when you slid into your car and started it up, more tears spilling over as you backed out of the driveway.

It wouldn’t be the first time you needed a moment to yourself after a fight, and like every other time, even your alone time was micromanaged. When Rafe didn’t want to see your face as much as you didn’t want to see his, he sent you on your way, and you chuckled at the thought of what would happen if you were gone too long. The AirTag on your car would just lead him straight to you, and you never enjoyed being dragged back like some dog in the street.

A drive or two around the block wouldn’t be enough, and before you realized it, you found yourself parked at the beach. The sight of the sand and water brought you back down to earth for all of five minutes, just staring through your windshield with parted lips. You suddenly had the brief urge to just…drive into the ocean. The thought took you by surprise because truthfully, as awful as Rafe had been to you, ending it all had never crossed your mind…and you didn’t even know why.

You didn’t think you had any hope that things would get better…but you also didn’t know if death would be better. Your future with Rafe was known. You knew what you had to look forward to, to endure. Nothing about death was known to you. For some reason, that uncertainty paralyzed you with fear. Even if you had the guts to do it, you weren’t alone…

You glanced down the beach at the small fire you saw, people crowded around it. It wasn’t some huge party or anything, appearing to be a relatively small group, but it seemed just enough people to be considered one. You just stared at them with a small frown, thinking on how differently their night was going.

Staring at your steering wheel, you thought about how you’d drive back to your house and walk inside to greet your boyfriend. Rafe would be waiting for you, staring at you with that look and how he wouldn’t apologize until you did. You’d admit you shouldn’t have worn the dress and then he’d say he hated when you made him act that way. He’d kiss you, maybe even pull you into a hug, and then you’d go upstairs like nothing happened.

You were pulled from your thoughts by a tap on your window, startled by the sound.

The last person you expected to see was JJ Maybank.

Your lips parted as you stared at him through your window, a frown slowly taking over as he had the gall to lean on your car. You weren’t quite sure what to do next. Not only was he the last person you expected to see tonight, but your last conversation with him was unfortunately something that had yet to leave your mind.

Staring at him through the glass, you recalled staring at the bruising on his face as he stood so close to you. He’d been too close, and you’d allowed it, and if you hadn’t had the sense of mind to slap his hand away, you didn’t want to linger on what might’ve happened next. Would he have kissed you just as he theorized doing? You wouldn’t have let him, of course, but you’d never forget the look on his face.

JJ Maybank was very dangerous for you to be around.

…and yet you found yourself getting rid of the barrier between you.

“If you came to join the party, you’re a little late,” were his first words to you. “Everyone’s breaking off, going to some other party or whatever.”

You glanced behind him, noticing the fire was now out and people were splitting up as he’d said.

“No,” you told him with a shake of your head. “I just came here to clear my head for a little bit.”

The blond was eyeing you when you looked back at him, and you didn’t think you liked how intently he was doing it.

“Rough night…?”

“I guess you could say that.”

You didn’t know why you said that instead of denying it. Maybe it was because you could feel how puffy your eyes probably were, and alluding to anything other than the truth would just insult his intelligence. A silence descended over you two, and you couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not. You knew that Rafe would bash your head into the mirror for even daring to talk to JJ, and somehow that didn’t stop your next words.

“Where are you headed?”

You didn’t know if you were still angry about the whole dress debacle or what, but you liked to think that anger was fueling your decision to offer JJ a ride when he told you he was heading to Sarah’s. JJ only raised an eyebrow at you.

“Do you have daddy’s permission to do that?”

“Please don’t refer to Rafe as ‘daddy’ ever again,” you sighed.

“Why not?” he wondered. “You probably do.”

You threw him a look, watching him chuckle.

“Besides, you knew exactly who I was referring to, and that’s all that matters.”

You found yourself regretting your choice almost immediately, but you still unlocked the door when JJ made his way around to the passenger side. It felt weird to have anyone other than Rafe sitting in your car, but especially JJ. He smelled like the burning wood he’d just been around, and the aroma filled your vehicle. When you asked him if the heat was too much, he kept his gaze on you as he told you it was okay.

“You know Sarah’s parents are having some fancy party, right?”

When you glanced at JJ, he was already looking at you, that cheeky grin on his lips.

“What are you trying to say? That I’ll stick out like a sore thumb?”

There was no point in denying that was exactly what you meant, but JJ only laughed to himself.

“I know,” he told you. “John B.’s picking her up at about 11, so he might as well take us both back to The Cut.”

You nodded at that, agreeing with his logic.

“Unless you want to do the honors,” the blond drawled.

When you glanced at him, you could see that he wasn’t joking, and you only shook your head.

“It’s time I start heading back home, anyway. It’s why I don’t mind dropping you off at Sarah’s since it’s on the way.”

There was a brief pause.

“Have you ever even been to the other side of the island?”

You didn’t know why he asked. You both knew the answer to that question and when—to no one’s surprise—you shook your head, JJ hummed. You didn’t know what that meant, and you looked at him again. Only, for once since he got into your car, he wasn’t looking at you. The blond was staring out of the windshield, but you didn’t miss the small smirk that danced along his lips.

“We’ll have to change that…”

You didn’t know what to say to that, thinking to yourself that the likelihood of it ever happening was low. The rest of the ride was quiet, and when you finally made it to the Camerons’, something in you didn’t want to leave. You wanted to say it had everything with not wanting to return to Rafe, but as you watched JJ exit your car…you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

“You look much better since the last time I saw you.”

JJ leaned his hands on your window sill, and you watched him blink at you, seemingly deep in thought.

“Thanks…I wish I could say the same about you…”

You pulled your lip between your teeth at that, hating the way the blond stared at you. When he thanked you for the ride, you only nodded with a small smile, glancing at the clock and telling yourself you had maybe five more minutes before Rafe started blowing up your phone. You resisted the urge to park your car and instead prepared yourself to drive back to your boyfriend.

The sound of buzzing was what pulled you from sleep. It wasn’t the kind accompanied by one single text but instead a phone call—continuous. It took you a minute to realize you’d fallen asleep on the couch—waiting up for Rafe—and that was exactly where the phone call found you. It wasn’t too late when you checked the time, only a little past 10, and Rafe’s text told you that he was still tied up with Ward and probably would be for another hour.

Both had left the Cameron house hours ago.

You were pulled from your thoughts by your phone again, and it was then that you realized it wasn’t Rafe who’d been calling you. You stared at the unfamiliar number in confusion for probably too long, debating on if you should answer or not. Against your better judgement, you did.

“Hello…?”

You sat up with a groan, glancing around the dark house and surmising that everyone else was asleep.

“It’s JJ.”

Those two words removed any remnants of sleep left, eyes widening and lips parting as you felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over you. You blinked a few times, in disbelief and confusion, and you struggled with what to say next. It was the middle of the night, and JJ Maybank was calling you.

“What…? Why...why are you…?” you rubbed your forehead. “How did you…?”

You couldn’t finish a single question, but you were sure JJ understood you loud and clear.

“I stole your number from Sarah,” he answered, making you frown. “I’m outside.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach at that, and you frantically turned around. You craned your head to look out of the window as you stumbled to your feet. Sure enough, there was a familiar van outside and a familiar blond standing next to it. More concerned with Rafe coming home and catching him in the yard, you were in a hurry to see what he wanted.

JJ spoke up though before you could manage to find your shoes.

“I just need more of those painkillers you gave me…”

You paused at that, frown easing some as you started to understand.

“My dad wasn’t in the best of moods this morning and since I have the Twinkie for the day…I figured I’d come to the best plug in town.”

“Don’t call me that,” you whispered.

“Well, nothing else I’ve ever taken took the edge off like that, so…”

Something about the way JJ’s voice trailed off in combination with his tone had you reaching for your purse. You started to ask him how bad it was, but then you figured you’d be seeing just how bad it was pretty soon, anyway. As your feet carried you towards the door, you were in a bit of a shock to think that JJ was outside the Cameron house waiting for you to pass along prescription drugs. It didn’t feel real, but you had to remind yourself that it was indeed very real because if Rafe came home early…

There would be nothing unreal about his anger.

“How did you know I was here?” you asked the blond as he met you halfway.

“Let Sarah tell it, you’re almost always here.”

You eyed him as you handed him a familiar pill, drinking in the sight of a bruise under his eye. JJ didn’t comment on the scrutiny, opting for popping the pill instead. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him even if you wanted to, feeling too many things at the sight of his swollen lip. You weren’t even thinking about Rafe…

“I’m really sorry, JJ,” you whispered.

His gaze met yours at your words, and he shrugged. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to play it off or if he was really just that used to it.

“Don’t be,” he told you. “It’s not your fault.”

“Why don’t…?” you trailed off, wondering if it was your place. “Why don’t you stay with John B. or Pope or something? They’re your friends, and I’m sure their parents wouldn’t be completely against it.”

You watched JJ sigh, turning to look away while running his hand through his blond locks.

“I probably should,” he admitted. “…but…”

He shrugged, looking at you with an eyeful of excuses.

“He’s my dad, you know.”

You gave him a look that let him know you didn’t agree with that, at all.

“JJ…”

Your tone made him smile, pink lips slowly curving upwards as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Gone was the battered teenager and instead the cheeky blond you were used to seeing. You didn’t think you liked the way he looked at you, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You worried about me?”

“Yes, actually,” you honestly replied. “I am.”

His smile dimmed some, but he still let out a soft closed mouth chuckle. He glanced away, nodding to himself before looking at you again. You didn’t have time to stop him this time when he reached out to gently touch your chin, and you couldn’t ignore how your stomach flipped at the brief contact.

“Don’t be. You should worry about yourself…and that asshole boyfriend of yours.”

He turned away from you before you could reply, and you opened your mouth before thinking better of it. You rubbed your forehead, watching him walk away, and feeling helpless, you told yourself there was no telling when you’d get another chance. Calling his name, you hurried to catch up to him.

JJ looked curious as to what you could possibly want when he turned around to face you. You felt nervous, and you wondered if it was noticeable because JJ’s expression softened some. You knew you felt bad, and you knew you felt helpless, but maybe a part of you felt compelled to help JJ because you couldn’t help yourself. Maybe, at the very least, you could make this easier for one of you.

“We’re not friends…”

His brows rose at that, and you hurried to continue when he snorted.

“I’m just putting that out there, so there’s no confusion with what I’m about to say because…we can’t be friends, JJ. Do you understand?”

JJ’s blue gaze held your own for some time, and he tilted his head. He ran his eyes over your face, and it was hard to place his expression.

“Trust me… I have no intention of being your friend.”

You knew he didn’t mean that in the way you wanted him to, but you refused to let that scare you into backing out of what you were about to say. You took a deep breath.

“My family has a pool house…”

He crossed his arms over his chest, intently listening.

“No one uses it…except for me when I was like sixteen and thought I hated my parents.”

JJ seemed to catch onto what you were hinting at, and he dropped his arms, slightly frowning at you, now.

“The key is under the plant on the right side of the door…and I don’t know… If it gets really bad with your father sometimes…that’s good information to have I guess.”

JJ didn’t respond, and you didn’t have anything else to say, so you just backed away, giving him a small smile.

“Goodnight.”

JJ didn’t wish you a goodnight back until you’d already turned your back on him, and you threw him another smile over your shoulder before going back inside.

Your lips trembled as you stared into the mirror, hands shaking as you struggled to wipe the mess off of your chest. The music from the party was loud, bleeding into the bedroom and bathroom through the walls, so you weren’t worried about Rafe hearing your soft cries. You threw the tissue into the toilet, the sound of the flush hiding another sob.

No matter how many times you fixed your dress, nothing about your appearance looked right in the mirror. It was funny. Before you left, you thought you looked okay. It was a dress you picked out that even Rafe liked, but it was only now as you stared into the mirror did you wonder if Rafe liked it too much. You’d had no problems with your dress and hair and makeup until after Rafe had held you down in some stranger’s room to fuck you on their bed.

You could still feel the pain from when he’d twisted your arm behind your back, harshly telling you to lighten up and relax. You hadn’t been in the mood, and Rafe hadn’t cared.

“If I waited until you were in the mood, I’d never get any,” he’d thrown at you, chuckling to himself like it was funny.

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you’d told him.

The only response you’d gotten was a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he’d shoved you down. No amount of protesting had deterred him—it never did—and you were sure the owner’s bed was stained with your mascara, courtesy of your tears. The same mascara you were currently trying to fix, something proving to be futile.

Rafe wasn’t wrong though.

You never initiated sex—not unless it could get you out of trouble—and why would you? Rafe raping you wasn’t what you’d consider a regular thing, but it was a sporadic one. Then again, the only reason you were even in this relationship was because you knew Rafe would slit your throat if you left him, so maybe, technically speaking, it all counted as rape.

You touched your chest to make sure you were clean, jaw ticking at the memory of Rafe coming on it. He hardly ever did that, and you knew the only reason he did tonight was to piss you off and humiliate you some more. You’d just straightened your dress for the umpteenth time when he banged on the door.

“I’m ready,” you harshly told him, swinging it open.

His fist had still been in the air when you did, and you didn’t hesitate in pushing past him to grab your jacket. You could feel his eyes on you as you slipped it on, and you turned your head when he leaned in for a kiss. Rafe paused, his gaze fixed on you, and you only huffed when he grabbed your face and forced a kiss on your lips, anyway.

“This party’s turning into bullshit, and Kelce said he might come by for a line or two,” he told you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guided you out.

Ward was out of town for two days, and you wanted to roll your eyes at how predictable Rafe was. It’d cost nothing to do drugs at Kelce’s place, but you supposed that wasn’t as fun as doing them somewhere he knew he was forbidden to. Somewhere he knew Ward would lose his mind over if he knew…

Rafe held you tighter when you made it back downstairs, and you only realized why when you saw a few familiar faces.

“Yeah, this party’s definitely gone to shit, now…”

You said nothing, quickly looking away when your gaze passed over JJ who was standing by Sarah. You’d tried not to dwell on your secret meetups with the other blond, but it was hard. He wasn’t supposed to be your friend—anything like it—and not only had you given him a ride, but a possible place to stay sometimes too.

Not even Rafe knew about the pool house key.

You told yourself that it was just a desire to help Sarah’s friend where you couldn’t help yourself, but you couldn’t deny that something in you was drawn to the blond from the other side of the island. That night in which you’d dropped him off, you hadn’t really wanted to leave. You could admit that, now, and the same could be said for the night he showed up at the Cameron household. You didn’t know if it was JJ or just…

The feeling of talking to a guy who wasn’t Rafe.

You’d forgotten what it felt like to be treated like your own person…and not an extension of the man helping you into his truck.

“Isn’t sex supposed to fuck the attitude out of you or something?”

Those were the words Rafe said to you five minutes into the drive back to his place.

“I don’t have an attitude,” you quietly told him.

There was a brief pause, and you didn’t need to look over to know that Rafe was staring you down.

“Yeah…you do,” he slowly said. “…but that’s okay because the night’s over, and you can just…go to bed mad for all I care.”

Huffing was apparently the wrong thing to do.

“Wh-what is this about earlier? Is that what you’re…pouting about?”

You said nothing, trying your best to avoid a fight, but it seemed that Rafe was itching for one. When he grabbed your chin, you tried to snatch your head away, but his grip was firm, and you winced when he made you face him. Rafe looked between the road and you, nostrils flaring as he stared you down.

“If I didn’t know any better—and I do—I’d think you were fucking somebody else…” he roughly let you go. “…because you’re never in the mood.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring straight ahead as silence descended over the inside of his truck. Not soon enough, his house was in sight, and you were already reaching for your seatbelt when Rafe parked. However, before you could open your door, one of Rafe’s hands was curling around your neck.

The gasp you let out was loud—choked—and you reached up to grab his hand. The back of your head was forced against the window, and too busy trying to get him to let go, you paid no mind to his other hand. It forced it’s way between your legs, fingers searching and pushing their way into you, walls still wet from your previous activities.

A choked sound escaped you as you pushed against his chest. Rafe’s face was nearing yours as he roughly thrust his fingers into you, curling them and making you gasp and jerk in his hold. His nose grazed your cheek as he fingered you, and nothing about it was enjoyable as you let out a whine.

“You are my girlfriend,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear. “…and that means whenever and wherever I want.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a sense of relief when he pulled his hand from in between your legs. That relief, however, was short-lived when you heard him reach for his pants. He saw you reaching for the door, and he was quick to grab your arm, yanking you closer and twisting his other hand into your hair. The scream you let out was pained when he pulled as hard as he could, and Rafe wasted no time in climbing over you.

Pushing against his chest did nothing, and considering it was less than an hour ago when he’d fucked you at that party, you knew Rafe wasn’t actually in the mood again. He just wanted to hurt you, wanted to exert power over you and get it through your head that your body belonged to him.

You winced when he pushed his way into you, immediately thrusting into you despite your lack of preparation. One of his hands was around your throat, the other pinning your arm in place. Your free hand was digging into his arm, tears spilling over as his hips snapped against yours. The inside of his truck was filled with the sounds of your cries and his grunts, and when he leaned in to kiss you this time, you gave him exactly what he wanted.

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warnersister · 16 days

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Personal Space

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader

Summary: you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space.

You never understood why Bradley stuck around. Since the academy you’d preferred to stick to yourself; get your head down and get the job done. Especially with a surname like Mitchell. You didn’t want your father and grandfather’s reputation to negatively proceed you, and by the time people had put two and two together as to whom loins you came from: you’d made your own reputation so Maverick never made much of a difference to it.

But still, having dinner in the mess you’d sat down, when someone came and thudded down next to you and began eating themselves. “I’m Bradley” he said when you finally looked up at him. You raised a brow “Bradshaw?” You ask and he nods: you recognise him from the photos your dad pinned up in your two’s hanger. You hum “and you are?” He asks “not important.” You reply, deciding you’d lost your appetite and stood to clear your plate “good talk!” Bradley said, but you were already walking away.

He’d next encountered you when you were running around the academy, early morning; before any naval training would take place. He hummed and decided it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt your jaunt with his presence. “Hey! Up so early?” He asks as he tries to match your pace from a standstill “could ask you the same.” You reply bluntly “well I wanted to get a run in before-” “well there’s your answer.” You reply, cutting him off. “You run really quick.” He says as you try to keep your pace increasing to shake him off “goodbye, Bradshaw.” You say, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and taking off at a pace he couldn’t sustain. He just stops and shakes his head smiling, you were funny.

Eventually, you’d both gotten up in the air and were quick to earn your callsigns “Rooster” and “Hen”. Bradley earned his because he was up before the chickens, you’d earned yours because the chicken kept fucking following you around like you were his mother. You were sat on the aircraft carrier, your trainee group learning how to land on a ship deck and you’d finally gotten a moment of peace that evening. You sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the edge as you watched the sunset, not moving when you hear someone slip into the space between the barriers beside you.

“Oh look my chick is back.” You mumble sarcastically and Bradley laughs loudly at you. “You love me really” he says, looking at you as if he wanted to you agree with him “you seem to keep telling yourself that, don’t you?” You hum, turning to watch the sea lap against the grey metal. You can feel him fidgeting beside you, as if antsy to say something. “What?” You ask, finally turning to look at him. “What?” He repeats, looking at you with raised brows “you want to ask me something. You’re fidgeting.” You point out “so ask me or fuck off” you say, turning away again. “Your last name is Mitchell” he says and you roll your eyes “you can read and hear. Two things I’ve learnt today.” You huff, again, with sarcasm. “Are you related to Pete Mitchell?” He asks, looking at you and nearly holding his breath “you finally put two and two together?” You ask and he lets out the breath.

“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You say after a while “I was a whoopsie baby my mother didn’t want anything to do with” you tell him. “He used to fly with my dad.” Bradley almost whispers, voice just a few octaves above. “I know” you nod “he’s practically wallpapered all over our hanger.” You say “so are you” you eye him. “He pulled my papers” he says, again after a few moments of silence “I know” you say “do you know why?” He asks “yes.” You reply, and he could tell you weren’t going to elaborate. “Y’know I’m not a fan of your dad, but I really like you.” He says and you just look at him with a blank face. “Yup” you hum to yourself and he raises a brow “just as Mother Goose was described” you say, and Bradley’s face immediately lights up with a huge grin, stretching and arm around you and pulling you into his side.

“Get off me.” “Yup, yep, sorry.”

For your first deployment, the academy set it up that you’d at least be with one person from your training squadron, and today the list of names were coming out; they were scribbled on the back of a napkin and pinned to a notice board.

“1. Haywood & Solomons, 2. Hughes & Shelley & Omaha, 3. Cooper & Parker & Cromwell & Smith, 4. Bradshaw,” you crossed your fingers as someone read out the names, then yours was read alongside Bradley’s “oh for god’s sake” you grumble, turning to see Bradley practically jumping for joy. “This is great! Me and you, Hen!” Rooster cheers and you just stare at him “should’ve called you leech cause you’re acting like one. Calm down.” You instruct and he tries to chill out, but the cheeky smile on his face was indiminishagble.

He only became more unbearable then, with you every working hour, your wingman on the missions you’d fly, inseparable despite your complaints. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Hawk asked you, as he came to sit with you for lunch. You shush him loudly. “Woah woah I only asked where he was.” “Speak his name and he shows up. I’m trying to hide.” you say in a hushed voice “plus he isn’t my boyfriend” “sure” he scoffs but the daggers being shot into his head silenced him easily.

“Hey Hen! Hawk” Bradley greets as he sits down. You grunt and point an accusatory finger at Hawk “this is your fault, jackass” you say and he laughs at you, him and Bradley engage in conversation as you just eat, having learnt the skill of drowning him out. “What about you, Hen?” Hawk asked, drawing your attention away from your plate and up to the two men alongside you, you raise an eyebrow - letting them know you were insinuating that you weren’t listening to their conversation.

“Do you want a family?” He ask and you just nod “really?” Hawk asks “that’s cute, didn’t take you for a family gal” he jokes and you harshly kick his leg under the table “kids and everything?” He asks after the pain subsides. “Yup.” You say and Bradley hums “I didn’t know that” he says and you just look at him “you never asked.” You reply simply, and that was true: he hadn’t. He was quite prepared to spend the rest of existence chasing after you, whether that meant giving you your first kiss on your deathbeds.

The two of you even went to Top Gun together, training to be the finest naval aviators of them all. And boy, you two fought to be the best; tongue and teeth, blood sweat and tears, everything. The decision came down to one final dogfight. “May the best aviator win” Rooster jokes, sticking out a hand to you. You eye it and internally question if you were insane, before leaning up to peck his cheek. “Prepare to loose, chicken.” You say, leaving him frozen in his place while you head to your plane. That day, Bradley was seriously off his A-game, and you came out on top.

A Mitchell finally Top Gun.

“Congratulations!” Bradley says excitedly on graduation day when you victoriously lifted the trophy above your head. You turned to him and he leant down slightly - you weren’t stupid, you knew what he was intending to do. “Thank you, Brad.” You say, turning to walk over to where your father was stood - knowing that was probably the only time Bradley wouldn’t follow you. That was the first time you’d ever called him anything short of Bradley Bradshaw.

“I’m so proud of you honey” your dad says, hugging you tightly and you embrace him back, smiling widely “thank you, dad” you respond and he looks behind you where Bradley was stood a while back, watching the ordeal. “Is that-” “yes” you tell him and your dad just looks at you “I wouldn’t get all teary he follows me like a lost puppy” you grumble but he just grins “he’s a good kid, hon.” He says and you shake your head “he’s definitely something”

“So how does their relationship work?” Bob asks Hangman, watching Bradley talk your ear off and you just staring ahead into space, blankly. “You see Bobby my boy,” Jake begins “Hen loves her personal space” Bob nods “Rooster also loves Hen’s personal space.” Bob nods again, now understanding. “Haven’t they done everything together though?” He asks “I think it’s more the fact that Hen does something and Rooster just kinda goes with it” Phoenix said and Bob hums, as Bradley continues to converse one-sidedly with you.

“He means well” you hear from beside you as you stare out from the hanger, turning to see your honorary uncle Tom walking towards you, you run towards him as he embraces you tightly “hey Ice” you smile, sweetly. “Hey sweetheart” he croaks. “I mean what I said.” He states and you raise a brow “he means well” he nods towards the man doing his required push ups on the ground with Hondo. “I know, Ice.” You tell him. “No, I don’t think you do” he hums and you raise your eyebrows at him. “The kids in love with you. You’ve either got to let him in or tell him to get out.” He says, “you’re living together for goodness sake”. “It was cheaper” you argue “we both know the accommodation is subsidised.” He states, matter-of-factly, patting your shoulder as he turns to go talk to your dad when he walks into the room.

It was true, you and Bradley were sharing accommodation. “Hey Hen, they’ve offered us shared accommodation back in Miramar” Bradley says, coming over with a pamphlet. “Why?” You ask, taking it out of his hands. ‘Married couple accommodation’ it states and you raise your brows “you getting ahead of yourself, Bradshaw?” You ask and he shakes his head “the guy assumed our callsigns were cause we’re a couple” he tells you and you just hum. “Well I’d rather stay there than in an apartment.” You say simply, giving him back the leaflet and refocusing on the plane you were working on repairing. “Seriously?” He asks, voice overly hopeful. You look at him and shrug “just go get the damn house, Bradshaw. Before I change my mind!” You say and he grins, turning and breaking out into almost a jog to head to confirm your living situation.

You take a moment of hesitation, before loudly groaning and heading out onto the tarmac, getting down and doing push ups alongside Rooster. He turns his head and looks at you and you just raise your brows at him. “Hey honey” he grins “hello Bradley” he nudges your hip with his own. “I’ll drive us home.” You tell him, and he raises his eyebrows “Home?” He asks and you huff “okay, Bradley I will drive the two of us back to our shared accommodation that we accidentally got given.” You say and he laughs loudly “home sounded better.”

Then after the mission, the whole Dagger squad got permanently stationed in San Diego, other than deployment, so they urged the new additions to the base to buy their own properties closer to base rather than on it. You and Bradley were sat in the Hard Deck, a long time before it was open, the rest of the Daggers spending time on the beach while the two of you were scouring Bradley’s laptop for a property. Well, Bradley was.

How about this one? He turns his screen to you. You shake your head “I want grass in the garden. I want to plant flowers” you say as you point at the paved back of the house, explaining that it’s a waste of money to have it ripped out. Bradley nods “Mkay, garden” he says, moving back to look again.

“How about this one? Beach front, close to the running track for you. Only a walk from the Hard Deck. White picket fence, really” he hums, turning the laptop again “garden?” You ask and he nods “garden.” He nods with a grin. “Shall we go look?” You ask and he raises a brow at you. “You said it’s a walk from the hard deck. Let’s go.” You say, putting the address into your phone and immediately recognising the street name, Bradley quickly falling into step with you as you walk towards the property.

You look at it and place your hands on your hips. Bradley was right. Pretty damn perfect. “Can I help you?” A lady asks, walking outside of the house, clipboard in hand. “Oh no, we’d just seen this property online and wanted to take a look.” Bradley tells her. “Well I’ve had a no-show on a viewing. How’d you like to take a look?” She suggests, motioning to the open door. “Okay” you nod, following her into the house.

“Obviously the kitchen, living room, even a deck out back with a huge garden and high fences” she says nodding out the window and you hum. “Out the side there’s an entrance straight to the beach” she motions, then starts heading up the stairs “three bedrooms, attic space, bathroom” she says “I’m guessing it’s just you two at the moment?” She asks “oh we’re not-” Bradley begins “yes, just us.” You confirm, shutting him up. “Okay, so there’s a large room for your bed and then if any new additions are to join, you have the space for them” she smiles and leads you back out front.

“It’s not cheap, it’s California. So I understand if you’re not prepared to pay that much money, do you mind me asking what you do?” She asks “we’re naval aviators.” Bradley says “stationed here?” She asks and you both nod “ah! I get why you’re looking for a property here!” She says and Bradley looks at you. “I really like it, Roo.” You say, and Bradley has to stop his jaw hitting the floor at your nickname. “It’s your call, honey” he says and you look at the lady and smile as she offers her hand “we’ll take it.”

“How shall we split the payment?” You ask Bradley as you walk back to the Hard Deck after organising a meeting with the realtor to actually finalise all the kinks and bumps. “I don’t mind doing the down payment then we’ll take it in turn paying the loan” he suggests “we can get a joint bank account and do it that way” you say and he agrees as you settle back into your seats at the Hard Deck. “Where’ve you two been?” Hangman asks “we bought a house.”

One evening, after you were all moved in and were hanging out at the Hard Deck after a long day or routine flying, you were sat outside with Rooster; watching the sunset. “When are we getting married then?” You ask and he spits out his beer “what?” He asks, eyes wide and getting progressively more giddy. “Well we live together, we have a joint bank account, and Jake keeps telling me we’re practically married. So when are we getting married?” You ask as he hugs you tightly “whenever you want, baby” he says, kissing the top of your head and pulling a ring out of his pocket to get on his knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks and you raise a brow “didn’t I just say that?” You ask bluntly “just say yes, please” he begs and you nod “yes. Yes I will marry you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You confirm as he kisses your lips gently.

“Okay get off of me now.”

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norrizzandpia · 6 months

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I Love Your Body (LN4)

Summary: It was the mirrors.

Warnings: sexual innuendos, language, reader is insinuated to have big boobs, talks of deep insecurity

Note: wrote it bc i have no one to tell me this and wanted to wallow in that thought?

Note (part 2): it’s shorter bc I’m tired!

Y/n walked through the door, sunken shoulders and a frown prominent on her face. Lando trudged in at the sounds, smiling brightly as his girlfriend came into view.

“Hi, baby! How was shopping?” He inquired, eyebrows scrunched together when he saw her hands empty.

“You didn’t buy anything?” He asked again, still confused as she avoided his eye contact and tried to slip past him.

He grabbed her arm gently, “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes looked up at him, swallowed whole by a sadness he couldn’t quite place. She stayed quiet as she looked at him before shrugging out of his hold and moving towards their shared bedroom.

He followed her, “Love, what’s going on?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” She murmured, slipping into their bathroom and shutting the door, locking it. His face stared at the white door, the shower turning on, as he continued talking to her.

“Y/n, let me in. Please, baby. What’s going on?” He tried to think back on their day, wondering if he had done something to make her mad or her friends that she had gone out with, but he came up empty.

He sat outside the door, listening to the water trickle down the tiled floor and letting the feeling of determination manifest in his chest.

When the water shut off and silence greeted his ears again, Lando stood up, knocking on the door once more.

“Y/n?” The door clicked, his girlfriend dressed in the same clothes came out. His face scrunched up, “Didn’t you just shower?”

She nodded softly, walking over to the dresser and picking out pajamas.

He tilted his head, “Then why are you in the same clothes?”

She groaned under her breath, “I don’t know, Lando.”

He scoffed, arms flying out beside him, “Okay, what the fuck is going on? What did I do to upset you? Was it me? Or your friends? Y/n, what’s going on?”

She shook her head, turning around to face him with pleading eyes, “Lan, please, I just want to be alone.”

His eyes bulged, “No! I’m your boyfriend! It’s my job to be here for you when you’re struggling!”

It was the raising of his voice that broke her down, tears immediately welling in her eyes before she whispered, “It was the mirrors.”

Suddenly, his annoyance withdrew and he was taking a few steps forward, “I don’t understand, my love.”

She sighed, looking down, “We were trying things on at the boutique downtown and it was the mirrors, Lan. I looked horrible. I couldn’t even get the clothing off the hanger once I saw the way I looked without anything on.”

At that, pure empathy for the girl he loved filled his body and he closed the distance between them. Cupping her face in his hands, Lando stared down at her in disbelief, “Love, don’t say things like that.”

The tears fell down her cheeks harder as she cried, “But, it’s true! I’ve got big arms, and a stomach, and red, raw stretch marks! Don’t get me started on my thighs and how ugly my boobs are! Have you seen them? I don’t know how you ever have wanted to look at them, let alone them be one of your favorite parts of me. They’re too big and ruin every outfit I put on. It’s just- I-”

She broke down harder in his arms, hands coming to cover her face as she shook with self-loathing. Lando stood, at a loss for words, as his girlfriend said things he couldn’t even fathom.

When her forehead landed on his chest, her tears soaking his shirt, he moved his hand to smooth down her hair, holding it to him, as the other tugged her waist closer. When she was as close as could be, he leaned down and whispered softly in her ear, “Y/n, none of that is true. I wish you would see yourself the way I do. You are so smart, so kind, cherished by everyone around you. You are everything,” He continued, trailing his arms to trace her arms, “Your arms are perfect and they have comforted me during dark times. I love your hugs, they’re my favorite, because the way your arms feel around me is so incredibly special.” He moved to caress the skin of her stomach, “Baby, there’s nothing wrong with your stomach. It’s where you’ll carry our kids when we’re ready to have them. I love that the most about it.” Though he couldn’t see them, Lando knew where her stretch marks were, having traced over them every chance he got. His hands over her ass, he went on, “The stretch marks here? There’s nothing ugly about them. In fact, I think they’re quite cool. Little marks which show the way your body has grown with you? Fucking sick, baby.” Her small giggle made his heart soar triumphantly before his hands cupped the bottom of her butt, laying halfway over her thighs, “And your thighs? Y/n, they’re so hot. If you know what I mean.” He wiggles his eyebrows and she continues her giggling, head still stuffed in his chest. His last destination is her boobs, stepping away from her to look down at them as if they aren’t hidden beneath her shirt. When she catches the glint in his eye, she rolls her eyes playfully. At that, he starts, “Your boobs? Are you fucking kidding me, love? The bigger the better, baby! They have never and will never ruin an outfit or make you look any less beautiful than you are. I don’t just love them because of how turned on I am by them, I love them for how comforting they are too. You might not understand, but to come home after a bad race or stressful day and lie between them? Heaven, baby. Heaven.”

When he’s finished, Y/n smiles slightly at him before wrapping her arms around his waist and murmuring whispers of gratitude. He invites her warmly, wrapping her safely, wholly in his arms as he whispers back, “Don’t shut me out when you’re feeling like this. I hate thinking about you convincing yourself of these lies. You’re so gorgeous, Y/n, and I know it may not feel that way, but you are, and I’ll spend everyday, every second, telling you until you believe me.”

Nuzzling further into him, she smiled, “Thank you.”

“Always, baby. Always.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #mclaren #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #lando norris edit

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nocternalrandomness · 2 months

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Flying Bulls Hanger 7 at Salzburg Airport, Austria

#Flying Bulls #Hanger 7 #Salzburg Airport #Untersberg mountain #DC-6 #Aviation #Museum #architecture #landscape #mountains

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radiantvader · 3 months

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Pairing : Anakin Skywalker x Jedi Master!Fem Reader

Word Count : 2.3k

Summary : In which you and Anakin are on a mission to sneak onto General Grievous' ship and capture him. Your constant banter and teasing throughout the mission frustrates Anakin, and in the end, he finds a way to let out all of his pent-up anger and frustration.

The starfighter hummed with anticipation as you and Anakin soared through the vastness of space, lightspeed blurring the stars into streaks of light, en route to General Grievous' ominous flagship. Inside the cockpit, the hum of the engines was accompanied by the low murmur of Anakin and Obi Wan discussing details about the mission. Anakin shot you a sideways glance, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“So, Master" he began, the title dripping with irony, eyes fixed on the star maps. "Any brilliant ideas on how we're going to sneak onto Grievous' ship?" you smirked while leaning back, studying the holographic blueprints you had received. "Well, Master Skywalker, it seems we have a spy to thank for these detailed plans. You see that hanger over there?" Anakin scowled at the use of the title 'Master' but kept his mouth shut, trying to avoid conflict. You reactivated the holographic blueprints and showed them to him, a smirk etched onto your face. He nodded, eyes burning with impatience and anger.

"That hanger is our way in. This is General Grievous we're talking about, so we already know that every square inch of this ship is going to be on lock. 20 droids guarding every access point are signal rotated. So once they're on the move, we only have 35 seconds until the next round of 20 droids replace them, we need to be quick. The eyes and ears are in a security room in the west hall, there are 97 motion-sensitive 8K cameras with an overlapping field of vision so there are no natural blind spots. They are always watching, always listening, blasters ready to fire. Getting through the corridors and reaching the command center is going to be easy. Now, here's where things get a little tricky, the doors to the command center have been improved, they're military-grade biometric portals made of a foot and a half of solid titanium. So we can't blow them up, we'll need to use the heat of our lightsabers to melt a hole big enough for us to go through, which might take time considering the thickness of the doors. So while I do that, I need you to cover me from the droids. Once we get into the command center, General Grievous will already be alerted to our presence and will probably have called for backup. So, the moment we enter the command center, we need to drop a smoke bomb, use the force to sense the droids, take 'em down, and then capture Grievous before the smoke clears." You explained the plan and relished Anakin's perplexed face.

"What? Not used to having a good plan? It must be an honor to be in the company of a highly intelligent Jedi with a higher rank. Perhaps some of my brilliance will rub off on you." Anakin's perplexed face dropped and his scowl deepened, his annoyance palpable. "Brilliance, huh? We'll see about that." You smirked as Anakin sassily rolled his eyes.

As you approached Grievous' ship, you used the Force to mask your presence from the patrolling droid fighters. Anakin expertly piloted the starfighter, dodging and weaving through the asteroid field that surrounded Grievous' vessel and you couldn't help but admit that despite his impulsiveness, he was a formidable pilot. "Nice flying, Skywalker" you complimented, a hint of genuine admiration in your voice. "Save the praising for after we're inside" Anakin quipped. You rolled your eyes, about to retort, but quickly shut your mouth as you approached the hangar bay. Your starfighter hovered in front of the hanger; you were waiting for the perfect moment to go in. The moment the battle droids were switching posts, you and Anakin slipped into Grievous' hangar undetected. And as the ship's bay doors closed behind your starfighter, you both breathed a momentary sigh of relief.

Stepping out of the starfighter, you and Anakin moved through the dimly lit corridors of Grievous' ship, lightsabers ignited and senses heightened. The air was heavy with tension as you encountered patrols of battle droids. You deflected oncoming blaster shots, not hesitating to take jabs at Anakin. "Careful Skywalker, wouldn't want you tripping over your own bravado." you quipped, voice laced with sarcasm. He shot you an irritated look, "I've handled tougher situations than this." Anakin muttered, deflecting blaster bolts effortlessly. "Of course you have, Chosen One" you snorted, swiftly dispatching a pair of droids with calculated strikes. His jaw clenched, but you caught a glimpse of a smirk he couldn't suppress. Your banter echoed through the metal corridors as you navigated through the labyrinthine ship. The occasional sparks of your lightsabers illuminated the path, creating an otherworldly dance of light and shadow.

As you both neared the command center, the droid resistance intensified. Waves of battle droids surged forward, blasters firing in unison. You and Anakin moved with synchronized precision, your contrasting styles weaving together seamlessly. But when you both reached the command center doors, you quickly got to work. You thrust your lightsaber into the titanium doors and hummed, pleased when the lightsaber melted through the titanium quicker than expected. You drew a decently sized circle with your lightsaber and with a powerful kick, a large circular piece of the titanium doors fell onto the floor, the command center coming into your view. Grievous, who was alerted to your presence, awaited both you and Anakin with his spinning lightsabers, surprisingly with no reinforcements.

The battle with Grievous unfolded like a chaotic dance, Anakin's acrobatic moves clashed with Grievous' relentless onslaught. Meanwhile, you circled around Grievous, strategically analyzing his patterns, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "Now!" Anakin shouted, distracting Grievous for a split second. Seizing the opportunity, you lunged forward, lightsaber slashing through the air and delivering a powerful strike that sent Grievous reeling. With a few swift moves, Anakin cut off Grievous' mechanic arms and legs.

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Returning to the Jedi Temple, you both faced the Council. Yoda and Obi-Wan listened intently as you recounted the details of the mission. Yoda's wise eyes bore into yours, assessing not just your words but the unspoken dynamics between you and Anakin. "Hmm, impressive, your teamwork is," Yoda noted, a twinkle in his eyes. "Learn from each other, you must." he continued, and Obi Wan, ever the diplomatic voice, added "Your cooperation has proven fruitful. May the Force continue to guide you both." When the debriefing concluded, you and Anakin made your way back to your quarters in contemplative silence. However, the tension lingered. You leaned against a wall in the secluded hallway and crossed your arms, a teasing smirk etched onto your face.

"Hey Skywalker, do you ever wonder what it's like to be a true master?" He clenched his jaw, balling up his fists, knuckles turning white. "I've got enough on my plate without you constantly annoying me, shut the fuck up for once." He jeered at you, but you just stepped closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper "Perhaps you're just afraid you'll never measure up."

Anakin snapped. In an instant, he had you pressed against the wall, his eyes ablaze with fury and frustration. "Enough! I don't care about official titles, I will not allow you to talk to me like that. Learn your fucking place." He seethed, his hand wrapping around your throat painfully. Yet in the charged atmosphere of your conflict, a different kind of energy simmered, a potent blend of unresolved tension and the unspoken truth. And in an inexplicable twist of fate, your shared animosity acted as an irresistible force, leading to a momentary pause that culminated in an unexpected collision of your lips—a fierce, passionate kiss born from a volatile mix of anger and desire, leaving you breathless and conflicted. Like opposing magnets pulled by an invisible force, your bodies surged together.

The kiss deepened and your breathing became ragged. As the hallway filled with your gasps and fervent whispers, you felt your resistance crumbling completely as Anakin's lips claimed yours with a hunger that mirrored your untamed passions. It was as if the world around you had vanished, leaving only the two of you entangled in the most primal of embraces. "You make me feel things I shouldn't..." you whispered, voice rough and hoarse. Anakin only responded by deepening the kiss, his lips and tongue exploring yours with a zealous intensity that left you breathless. Your bodies continued to strain against one another, their tempo growing more desperate with each passing second. Your breathing grew shallow, the only sounds in the empty hallway were the soft moans of pleasure and the frantic rustle of your clothing. Anakin, driven by an insatiable desire, reached out and grabbed your hips, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. As you continued to kiss passionately, Anakin unbuckled your belt and hurriedly undressed you, the sound of your lightsaber hitting the ground filled the hallway as Anakin tossed your attire aside with a harsh motion, his eyes never leaving yours. He was certain you could feel his heart beating rapidly.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the cool air against your skin, the sensation heightening your desire for him, nipples hardening. You reached for the fastenings of Anakin's pants, your fingers deftly unbuckling and unzipping him with ease. His erection sprang free, standing rigid and throbbing before you. He groaned into your mouth, his own hands now exploring the areas of your body that his fingers had only briefly touched. He reached between your legs, his fingers brushing against the wetness that had begun to seep through your underwear.

"Fuck" he whispered, his voice a hoarse growl, as he felt the evidence of your own arousal. You let out a soft moan as Anakin’s lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. He grasped your underwear, sliding it down your legs, his gaze never leaving yours. As the fabric slipped away, exposing your wetness to the cool air, you felt a shiver of anticipation ripple through your body. Anakin's hands traced the curve of your hips, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he guided himself towards you. He felt your warmth, your wetness, and the knowledge that you were about to be one with each other sent a surge of desire coursing through him. With a deep, shuddering breath, Anakin positioned himself at the entrance to your core.

He looked into your eyes, his own mirroring the raw intensity of your passion. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself, but right as he was about to slide in, he stopped, "Beg for it." You looked up at him with wide eyes, "What?" you asked perplexed. "I said beg for it." He smirked, toying with you. "C'mon Anakin, please... I need you..." you muttered, embarrassment seeping through your bones. "Oh come on, you and I both know that you can do better than that." He smiled mockingly, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. Tears prickled the edges of your eyes as you looked up at him desperately, considering throwing your pride away for a moment. "Anakin please, I'm begging you. I need you so badly... It hurts..." your face flushed in embarrassment and Anakin let out a pleased hum, grinning wickedly. Then, with one swift, powerful thrust, he drove himself into you.

You gasped, your eyes widening in amazement and pleasure as you felt the fullness of his size fill you, the stretch sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. "'s too big..." you whimpered when Anakin started thrusting, both pain and pleasure coursing through your veins, "Take it like a good girl and stop whining" Anakin grunted, his thrusts growing steadily more frenzied as the passion of the moment consumed you both. Your bodies moved in a symphony of ecstasy, each thrust a testament to your shared hunger and unspoken longing. Anakin thrust into you with vigor, your fingers dug into his back, the press of his hips against your clit causing you to moan softly with each stroke. Your own arousal grew, your inner walls tightening around him with every thrust, your body eager to take him deeper, to draw him in.

His tip delightfully hit your cervix, causing you to throw your head back as a moan of pure ecstasy was ripped from your throat. Your hands travelled upwards and grabbed Anakin’s hair, tugging harshly, eliciting a groan from him. “Fucking slut.” He growled lowly while his movements sped up. Anakin gripped onto your hips, roughly pulling you closer to him with each thrust. “Look at you, not so talkative now, are you?” Anakin jeered with a coarse voice, but the only response he got back was a soft mewl. “Aw, did I fuck you dumb already?” He mocked you, enjoying the way your eyes rolled back into your head.

Anakin's pace was relentless, he had a bruising grip on your hips, thrusting fast, deep, and hard into you. You could feel the pressure build in your lower belly and your walls clenched around Anakin. As his own climax approached, Anakin’s thrusts got sloppier, sweat dripping from his hair and forehead. But as he reached down to fiddle with your overly-sensitive clit, you broke. You clenched around him, letting out a sputtering moan as you came. The feeling of you squeezing around him, soaking him, was enough to send Anakin over the edge.

Heavy and ragged breaths came out of your mouths as Anakin slowly dropped you down from his arms and helped you get dressed. The silence that ensued wasn't awkward, it was tense. Both of you knowing how this could change everything.

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A/N : Guys please don't expect my writing to be perfect, I'm not a professional writer, and It'll take time for me to learn and progress. Also btw the plan in the beginning was inspired by that one scene in the movie 'Red Notice'. It's a great film, you guys should definitely watch it! Anyway, I hope you guys liked this, if I made any mistakes or if you have any tips, please don't hesitate to let me know! <3

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin smut #anakin x reader #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader smut #darth vader smut #darth vader #star wars smut #star wars #anakin skywalker #sw prequels #rots #star wars prequels #hayden christensen

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cauliflowercounty · 28 days

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Mornings in the Mirror

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

Summary: a little vignette about getting dressed in the morning with Feyd. Established relationship.

Same universe as Knives Dance based on some of the exposition from part 3 because I’m having trouble saying goodbye to Knives Dance. You don’t have to have already read the series to understand, but there are some spoilers to the series. Set between parts 2 and 3.

Warnings: some suggestive content

Word Count: 2.1k

Written on mobile cause I’m on a bus

You step out of the bathroom attached to the bedroom you share with Feyd, using a towel to gently blot the last of the water off your hair to finish drying it. As you do so, you look outside the window to observe Giedi Prime’s cityscape with its dark, expansive architecture filled with imposing, black structures.

The city is already humming with morning activity. Ships fly through the air, taking people where they need to be like clockwork. You hear the beat of the Harkonnen armies marching on the ground far below your quarters. The sound has become a comfort to you since coming to Giedi Prime. Without fail, the marching would start at the same time each day, ringing in a new day as the black sun shone on the city. Just like all those times before, you feel the aura of Giedi Prime wash over you. Everything is in perfect order, which puts your mind at ease.

Looking over to the large bed behind you, you see Feyd has gotten up since you’ve been in the shower, leaving the sheets untidy over the mattress. You smile. You’ve come to learn his habits over the weeks, and he always does this, knowing the servants will come and replace them with fresh sheets later once you’ve both left. He’s always said that he has more important duties than making his own bed. Now that you’re living together, you know he’s right, especially since he’s Baron Harkonnen now. His daily meetings with advisors in the Harkonnen War Room or diplomats on his throne with you by his side often keep him occupied. His time is precious, as is yours.

Making your way over to the closet, you see your husband through the crack in the doorway. His back is to you, allowing you to see his muscled shoulder blades and admire his slim waist. He’s standing in front of his side of the closet, running his fingers along the series of clothes on hangers. You slip into the closet and approach him from behind. You know he’s already heard you approach when you see his shoulders relax. He turns to you, his Baroness. When he does so, you can see how his eyes soften, a small smile on his lips as he looks at you. He extends his palm outward to you and you gladly walk over and slide your hand into his.

“Good morning, my love,” he says to you before pulling you closer by your hand and wrapping his other hand around your waist before dragging it up your body and cupping your cheek. He brushes his thumb across your skin, sending shivers down your spine

As you look at him, your heart fills with pride, knowing you’re the only one who gets to be with him in this way. You get to see him for more than his reputation. Anyone would scorn the idea that Feyd-Rautha, the psychotic nephew of Vladimir Harkonnen, may he rest in peace, who slays countless slaves in a gladiatorial arena and kills servants at will, would be able to do something so tender. However, here you are, the only one to behold his love and affection.

“Good morning, Feyd,” you whisper back to him against his lips, and he gives your hand another firm squeeze. “I hope you slept well.” You both break reluctantly, knowing you both have to get ready now. “What are we doing today?” you ask him, turning to his closet and thumbing through his clothes yourself.

“We have another meeting with our generals today in the War Room,” he says as he stands back to watch you at work. He was surprised the first time you went to pick out what he wore for the day, but he quickly grew to appreciate the ritual because of how much thought you invested in it every day. “We also have to meet with our Directors of Commerce concerning spice on Arrakis. We should also be receiving news about the status of spice production.”

“I hope Rabban has gotten his act together,” you say, pulling one of his outfits from the hanger and taking an undershirt of his out of a drawer beside you. It’s a deep blue almost black pair of pants with a matching jacket with a high neckline. You hand it to him, and he immediately puts each item on.

You bring your arms to his shoulders to smooth the fabric of the jacket over his body. You grab the seams at the shoulders, lining them up with the edges of his body so that it hangs perfectly on him. The clean lines accentuate the broadness of his torso and bolster his imposing stature. He really looks like a Baron now. You make a mental note to have the seamstresses make more outfits like this for him.

“...And I hope Rabban has figured out how to acquire a brain,” Feyd mumbles, savoring your touch on him.

“Whatever will we do with him…” you sigh in return as you kneel down to smooth out his pant legs.

“Thank you,” Feyd says as you rise to your feet again when you finish.

“Of course,” you reply, starting to make your way over to your side of the closet. He follows you and brings a hand to your shoulder from behind. You twist around to look at him with your brows knit. Why did he stop you?

“May I… return the favor today, my darling?” He asks, his voice wavering for a moment. Your lips part in surprise. He’s never asked to do this before, but his nervousness that he’s trying to conceal makes your heart swell. From that small moment of hesitation, you can tell he’s been wanting to ask this of you for some time.

You step back to allow him access, and Feyd raises his gaze up to the exposed rack of clothes. He starts at one end, pushing the outfits on the rod one by one to take a close look at each one. As he moves down the line, you can tell he’s deep in concentration. Should he pick a Harkonnen gown, or one you’ve brought from Youra? He’s taking great care in this task, which makes you sigh in appreciation.

He finally decides after many moments of consideration. He pulls down a floor length Harkonnen gown with a Queen Anne neckline and cap sleeves. It’s made of layers of fabric that seem to swallow all light that touches it, creating a rich obsidian black. The bodice is an intricately detailed corset adorned with elegant lace and prominent ribbing atop fine mesh. As he turns it around, he drags his gaze up and down the dress. The back is also beautiful, the design stretching all the way around.

“I haven’t seen you wear this one before,” he says, as he admires the open upper back, the edges of which are lined with the same lace as the bodice.

“It has a lace-up corset. It takes longer and requires another person to get into,” you explain, which makes Feyd’s eyes glimmer with excitement.

“What am I here for then?” he asks with a grin.

“Ruling Giedi Prime perhaps?” you jest. He scoffs and brings the dress over.

“Other than that,” he says, taking it off the hanger.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you, Feyd.”

“It really isn’t any trouble, my love. Please? May I help you?” You see a hint of longing in his eyes and you nod at him, abandoning your towel as Feyd loosens the laces of the corset. He helps you by gathering the dress, giving you the ability to dive head first into the gown. As you pull down the dress over your body and put your arms through the armholes, you immediately notice how luxurious the fabric is against your skin. Even though the corset has not been tightened, you know that it will be a perfect fit by just feeling it on yourself. Turning your back to Feyd and holding yourself straight, you silently signal to Feyd that you’re ready.

“Let me know if it’s too tight,” he whispers in your ear from behind. His breath on your neck makes your skin tingle, and you try to resist turning around, grabbing his head and kissing him. At your motion he begins to tug on the laces little by little, causing the corset to perfectly conform to your figure. His touch is precise and the way he pulls at the strands is decisive and firm. To your surprise, he’s rather good at this and seems to know exactly what to do. Once he is done tightening it, he uses his fingers to gently tie a knot then a bow at the back of your dress with the excess ribbon. As you move around a little to settle into the dress, you feel how the corset isn’t too loose on you, and you don’t feel like you’re being suffocated either.

Before you can thank him for a job well done, he’s already at your feet, placing a pair of strapless patent leather shoes in front of you. He takes your hand in his. You use your free hand to grab your skirt as you slip the shoes on one by one. Feyd beckons you to follow him and takes you both over to the mirror in the closet. He positions you in front of him in the center of the mirror.

“Look at you, darling,” he whispers to you, his eyes wandering up and down the portrait of you in front of him. Feyd could look at this image all day. The bodice fits your body perfectly and the dress flares out from your waist beautifully, making you look like a goddess descended from above. He brings his arms around you and smooths his hands over your front, feeling the lace pass under his fingertips. The look of you together is truly gratifying for Feyd with him in his clean cut ensemble and you in your gown. You both look powerful next to each other. Together you are Baron and Baroness of House Harkonnen and you look the part. “You’re exquisite, my love.”

He dips his head down and brings his lips to your neck, pressing small kisses over the area. Feeling the heat within you rising, you turn around in his embrace and bring your arms up around his neck. Capturing his lips in yours, you kiss him fervently. He brings one hand up and combs his fingers through your hair, which makes you feel like a surge of electricity has shot through your veins. As you kiss him back, all of your surroundings seem to melt away into nothingness. All of it is insignificant compared to your husband. You can tell he’s also lost in the sensation of you against his body and in his hands as he rakes his hands through your hair. His grip on your waist tightens as his kiss becomes hungrier, and you feel him tug at your bottom lip with his teeth.

Breaking away from him, you see how heavy his lids are now, his firm grip on you not letting up. You smile at him and give him another quick kiss, this one much lighter. You didn’t want to stop, but you must attend to your duties. “Later, darling,” you sigh into his ear. “I just got dressed, after all. I wouldn’t want to undo your expert work.”

He lets out an amused huff and nods in agreement. You go over to the mirror and realize your hair is completely disheveled. Your dress is still beautiful, but you can’t say the same thing about your hair now that Feyd’s had his hands on it.

“I bet none of the Harkonnen women you’ve had in the past had to deal with this issue when leaving your quarters,” you joke as you open a different drawer near you, which contains all of your hair care tools that you’d brought with you to Giedi Prime. You take a moment to make the necessary adjustments to your hair, trying to salvage it.

“You need not mention them,” Feyd says, his jaw tightening. “They are of no concern to you or me anymore.”

“I know,” you smile, turning back to him and extending your arm. “I’m only teasing. Let’s go.”

He relaxes and gladly takes your hand, allowing you to lead him out of your quarters. With that, you begin your day side by side as Baron and Baroness of House Harkonnen.

—

Thanks for reading! 💛

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#feyd rautha #dune part 2 #dune part two #feyd rautha x reader #x reader #dune #austin butler

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rebeliz7 · 5 days

Text

Dangerous

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Request: 32 & 64 prompts for Wanda or Natasha or maybe both😏

32. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

64. “You’re not taking me to bed. ever.” “Who said it had to be on the bed?”

…

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God.” Natasha threatens you, annoyed and left eye twitching.

She’s not being serious, at least not entirely, but you still raise your hands in surrender and lean back in your seat.

However, her eyes stay firmly locked with yours, and you have to smile at how worked up she seems. She rolls her eyes when you smile, just like you were expecting her to, and the meeting moves along.

You weren’t interrupting her exactly, but it’s become intensely apparent that your presence annoys the hell out of Natasha. Whatever the reason.

Not that you go out of your way to annoy her, that’s not the case at all. The thing is, and you’ve been aware of this for a while now, you make her nervous. So nervous that she doesn’t know how to deal with you.

No one else seems to be aware of that little fact, although the entire Avengers Team lives together for the time being. But Natasha knows that you know, which makes her angry.

Irrationally so, you must say.

“She’s gonna get you one of these days.” Clint warns you in a low voice.

“Yeah, but not today.” You joke, and Clint laughs softly to himself.

“You don’t wanna push Nat. Trust me.”

“Oh I'm not worried, trust me.”

…

The meeting ends on a neutral note, since Sam and Bucky lost track of their target on their latest mission. A team needs to fly out to Mexico to lend a hand and things will get a move on again.

Steve and Clint are going, and so is Shuri. This is not Shuri’s first mission, but you take it upon yourself to get her as ready as she can be before they fly out.

She’s grown on you, in a 'younger sister' sort of way. You guess it's because she’s younger than you, and so amazingly smart, that her awe for everything you guys do endears her to you greatly.

“Don’t get killed while I’m gone.” She tells you as you walk her into the hanger, and you’re tempted to laugh.

“You’re going on a mission with Barton, you’re the one that should be worried. I’ll be fine right here.”

“True, but Natasha is about to kick your ass into a coma if you keep pushing her.” She reminds you, and you huff indignantly.

“Why does everyone think she can kick my ass that easily?” You ask loudly, just as Clint comes out of the jet with a pointed look.

“Because she can.” He deadpans. “And she will if you don’t give her some space.”

“I didn’t hear any of that.” You pointendly tell him while Shuri gives you a goodbye hug. “Still trying to process this lack of faith from both of you in my fighting skills.”

“Keep it up.” Clint tells you with another look.

“That’s what she said.” You joke, and you hear Shuri laugh too. Clint chuckles and shakes his head at you, probably thinking that you’re gonna get your ass kicked for real.

“There’s a kid here!” Steve shouts from the jet, and you run back inside before that lecture reaches your ears.

…

When you walk inside the kitchen you find Wanda by the stove, stirring a red sauce and your spirits instantly pique up.

“Can I have some?” You ask, coming up behind her. She yelps in surprise, and you press a kiss on her cheek.

“You scared me.” She smiles, her cheeks tainting red at your proximity, and you lean against the counter as she turns off the stove before checking on the pasta. “Can you set the table? This is ready.”

She’s a pro at this, and you can't resist her cooking.

“It smells really good. My mouth is watering already.” You tell her as you set out two plates, and her cheeks grow redder.

You smile to yourself, and can’t deny that you’re almost inclined to kiss those cheeks again, but you resist the urge. You and Wanda didn’t exactly date, but you did sleep together a few times, and you thought of asking her out properly, but the timing was never right so nothing real ever came up from it.

Then she moved on -with Vision of all people- and you moved on too. Not that anyone was supportive when you started dating Emma Frost, and maybe you see their point now. Emma was a wild ride, to say the least.

Shaking your head to get rid of the memories, you pass Wanda the plates.

“Can you get another one?” Wanda asks you.

“This isn’t dinner for two?” You ask as you go to take down another plate, and she shakes her head.

“Natasha is here too. She went to take a quick shower, so she'll be here any minute.”

You smile to yourself.

...

Natasha is tempted to bolt the moment she sees you’re going to join them for dinner, and you grin when you meet her eyes. It must be infuriating that you can so easily tell what goes through her mind, when she’s spent her entire life training to be unreadable.

You know she hates it, and often wonders how you’re capable of doing it. To be quite honest, you have no idea either. You just have this sixth sense when it comes to her, that lets you read her like an open book.

But, you keep your mouth shut all through dinner. You behave, while Wanda and Natasha chat away. You even get seconds, and fill their glasses with more wine when they get low.

All in all, you don’t annoy Natasha at all while you eat, and you even offer to clean up while they move to the living room with a second bottle of red to continue their conversation.

You put the dishes in the dishwasher, wipe down all the surfaces, and when you’re done you take a beer from the fridge with the intention to leave them to it.

“You can join us.” Natasha calls out, just as you take your first sip.

“You sure?” You ask her, and she rolls her eyes, her go-to reaction whenever you open your mouth.

“As long as you keep the innuendos to yourself, we’re okay.” She sips her wine delicately then, and you -a mere mortal- become entranced with the shape of her lips, and the sensual way in which she drinks.

“Sure.” You clear your throat, and drink almost half of your beer in one go.

You’d be lying if you said that you’ve never thought of Natasha in other, much more naked circumstances, but you’re aware that that is never gonna happen, and you’re okay with it.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Wanda notices after a while when she comes back with yet another bottle of red, and another beer for you.

“I don’t want to annoy the pretty lady over there.” Natasha groans at your response, which only makes you smile. You almost can’t believe how easy it is for her to become agitated in your presence.

“You gotta try harder than that.” She deadpans, and Wanda takes the seat next to yours instead of sitting in front of you, like she was before she went to the kitchen.

“I’m not annoying, am I?” You ask Wanda, and she gives you this smile that you immediately feel drawn to.

You breathe in deeply as she gives you this look that makes hot electricity run through you, and runs her fingers through your hair. You do miss her, especially when she’s looking at you like this and her fingers are in your hair.

“You’re quite charming.” She says, and you think she might reciprocate if you were to kiss her right now.

“You see?” You look at Natasha, and she rolls her eyes, but not with malice.

“Maybe I just don’t like you.” She says before sipping her newly refilled glass of wine, and you clutch your chest in mock offense.

“You wound me.” You scoff while smiling, but deep down you do feel hurt by her words. Not a lot, but still.

“Natasha likes you.” Wanda tells you then, and you’d think she’s joking if the look on Natasha’s face wasn’t so telling.

“She does, huh?” You ask, mostly to yourself.

“I thought there were things we agreed on not sharing with anyone.” Natasha reminds her, and Wanda shrugs lightly, the glass of wine close to her lips as she smiles.

“What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom?” She asks, and with a start you realize that she’s slightly drunk, and oversharing is -unfortunately- her one obvious tell.

That’s how everyone found out that you two were sleeping together a while ago, and right now she’s just revealed that she and Natasha are a little more than just friends.

“I swear to God, if you even think of saying anything right now.” Natasha threatens you, and you laugh, your comeback at the tip of your tongue.

“She likes you too.” Wanda tells Natasha, her finger pointing at you, and you choke on your beer.

“You’re not seriously trying to play matchmaker here.” Natasha’s grin is otherwise telling of how amused she’s finding this entire exchange.

“What? It's not like I even had to look inside her head to know that.” Wanda says, and you finally put your beer down after getting your coughing fit under control. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

She has the audacity to shoot you a smug look, as if she wasn’t throwing you under the bus here.

“Well, no.”

“Great.” Natasha sneers.

“Okay, now hold on.” You speak up as Wanda laughs, and you take the glass of wine from her hands. She’s had enough to drink. “There are different levels of liking someone.”

“Educate us, please.” Wanda is trying to hold back laughter now, and you really - she’s just - she’s such a little shit.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly kick Nat out of my bed. But, I’m not interested in anything more than that. No offense.” You add quickly.

“None taken, and you’re not taking me to bed. Ever. So don’t worry about it.” Natasha tells you, and how can you not take that one? Sometimes she just makes it easy for you.

“Who said it had to be a bed?” You retort and her face turns red, and you’re not sure if she’s about to kick your ass or just shoot you on the spot.

However, you’re not expecting her to walk over, and kiss you dead on the lips. Which is exactly what she does.

When she pulls back Wanda is laughing, and you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming.

“Cat got your tongue?” Natasha asks when you finally open your eyes, and you swallow with difficulty.

Without waiting a beat you pull her back in, kissing her again, a bit more forcefully than she did first, and she kisses you back in earnest. A part of you isn’t sure of what’s happening, but the other part of you is enjoying this turn of events quite a bit.

“Well, well, well.” You comment when she pulls back, as if she’s finally realized what she was doing. If you’re smiling like a lunatic it’s only because you truly can't help it.

“Is anyone going to kiss me?” Wanda asks, and you break eye contact with Natasha to look at her.

“Come here, you needy monster.” You pull her onto your lap, and she straddles you with ease and familiarity. A pretty smile on her pink lips as she cups your face, and you wrap your arms around her waist.

Kissing Wanda is still heaven. You’re once again submerged in her world, and you still find it incredibly addictive. She bites your bottom lip softly as she rocks her hips forward to meet yours, and you can’t help but let your hands wander.

Grabbing a handful of her ass you pull her closer to you as she deepens your kiss, and you can taste the red wine on her tongue. Her breath is hot as she breathes heavily into your mouth, and your mind becomes fuzzy with want.

“Such a good kisser.” Wanda says against your lips, and you smile sweetly. She’s so adorable, especially from this angle, and the way she scrunches up her nose makes you want to kiss all over her face.

“Better than me?” Natasha asks, and to your surprise you turn your head to find her sitting right next to you.

“I’m not sure.” Wanda says with a false thoughtful look, and hidden smile.

Natasha doesn’t give her a verbal answer, instead you watch the redhead grab Wanda by the neck, and pull her down for an intense kiss that has Wanda moaning in a matter of seconds.

You watch them kiss while holding Wanda’s hand, and your throat dries up. You watch, and realize that this is actually happening. You watch until you can’t anymore.

Grabbing a hold of Wanda’s arm you pull her back to you, and kiss her hungrily. She’s still moaning, her hands now desperately pulling off your shirt, as you do the same with her sweater.

You hear Natasha softly chuckling next to you, but you’re already too wrapped up in everything that Wanda is to care about the world, let alone Natasha’s smug laughter.

“I’ve missed your lips,” Wanda says as she pulls back slightly, a tipsy smile on her extremely kissable lips.

You smile while your hands squeeze her bare waist, and you don't hold back from kissing her again. You’ve missed her lips too, and you hope she can read between the lines.

Her hands in your hair pull back lightly, exposing your neck as she moves to place heady kisses all over it. You’re breathing rapidly now, your hands massaging her breasts, as she licks a path up your throat, still pulling on your hair.

“Kinda feeling left out here.” Natasha’s voice breaks through the fog in your mind, and Wanda sits back on your lap, as she tries to get her breathing under control.

“I’m not sure of what's happening exactly.” Wanda says as you inch closer to her. Your hands are still on her, touching every inch of her exposed skin as you can, while she combs back your hair. You kiss her upper breast, careful not to leave any hickies, despite desperately wanting to.

She gasps, and you look up to kiss her lips, focusing on pinching her nipples now as she rocks her hips forward.

“You want to stop?” You ask after pulling back only the necessary amount to be able to ask her that.

“No.” She shakes her head, her hand gently caressing your cheek as she looks into your eyes. “I think I want you both.”

Instinctively you look towards Natasha, who is still holding her glass of wine, and sipping the red liquid delicately as she observes the two of you.

“Do you - ” Wanda grabs your chin, making you look at her. “Do you want me?” She asks, and you move to pull her ever closer to you. As if that’s possible.

“Always.” You nod quickly, and as you kiss the corner of her lips she turns to look at Natasha with the same question.

“You don’t ever have to worry about that.” You hear Natasha say, but you refuse to stop kissing every single inch of her skin to look.

“I don’t?” Wanda asks breathlessly, your mouth doing wonders on her neck, while your hands reacquainted themselves with the rest of her body.

“You don’t.” Natasha says, and she sounds much closer now. Her voice is more sultry than you've ever heard it before, and you pull back, if only to see the look on her face.

You watch her take Wanda’s outstretched hand as she stands, and pulls Wanda on her feet as well. You swallow with difficulty as you watch her kiss Wanda softly, lips merely ghosting over each other.

However fleeting the kiss though, you see Wanda’s legs quiver and Natasha’s arm wrapping around her waist to keep her upright.

“Bedroom?” She asks her with the confidence of someone who already knows the answer, and Wanda nods, as if in a daze.

You watch them walk away, and you try to calm your racing heart, but it’s difficult when Wanda turns to you from the hallway.

“You coming?” She asks you, and you’re pretty sure that your brain short circuits.

You stand up, picking up your unfinished beer, and down it in one go before you nod, and walk towards her.

“That's what she said.” You stupidly joke, and Natasha rolls her eyes expectedly, but now you see that the edge in her eyes isn’t entirely hate.

“Incorrigible.” Wanda smiles as she grabs your hand, and pulls enough for you to fall into step next to her.

“You’re dangerous.” You murmur close to her ear as you wrap your arms around her from behind, and she throws you a side glance, feigning innocence.

“I have no idea what you mean.” She says, and Natasha chuckles lightly as she unlocks the door to her bedroom.

“Sure you don’t.” She says as she pulls Wanda in for a demanding kiss, and you close the door behind you.

Well, you think to yourself, Natasha might actually end up killing you after all, but at least it’ll be pleasurable for the both of you.

...

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #na #natasha romanoff x you #nat #natasha romanoff imagine #nata #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff

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