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carolmunson · 7 months

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you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down.

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery.

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.”

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later.

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head.

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere.

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.”

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?”

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?”

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.”

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?”

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?”

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow.

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on.

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you.

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch.

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before.

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears.

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough.

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.”

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.”

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.”

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.”

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly.

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.”

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.”

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death.

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.”

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily.

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.”

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.”

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.”

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper.

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge.

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.”

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.”

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat.

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.”

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes.

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story.

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you.

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…”

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #kas!eddie #kas!eddie munson #vampire!eddie munson #vampire!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #tw: dubcon #tw: dub-con #dark!eddie #dark!eddie munson

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rad-batson · 1 year

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Billy Batson and Damian Wayne being weirdly good friends (ft. the occasional Jon Kent)

Billy befriends Damian after the JL learns his real identity. Batman approached him and told him they should meet since they’re the same age.

At first, it’s awkward because Damian isn’t interested in making friends, and Billy’s mad that Batman is essentially sending him to the kids' table. Until…

Damian: “Why must my father insist that I socialize? I can handle myself!” Billy: “Thank you! I’ve been on my own since I was six. I don’t need an adult to tell me what to do.” Damian: “…I like you.” Billy: “Wanna spy on the Justice League?” Damian: “Yes.”

Batman immediately regrets his decision.

At first, the two don’t really talk outside of meetings or happenstance, but when they do, they’re like twins. They know exactly what the other is thinking at all times. (The adults are terrified.)

Both end up bonding over their upbringing, specifically the fact that they were abused/traumatized/malnourished for several years. That marks the point where they start talking regularly.

Damian nearly jumps out of his skin the first time Billy speaks to him in Arabic (courtesy of the Islamic Prophet, Solomon.) They now speak exclusively in Arabic when they gossip.

They will cut a bitch. Do not get on either’s bad side.

Every time one of them says something out of pocket, the other one high-fives them. Even Jon is concerned (and very jealous.)

Billy is required to attend the same school as the Teen Titans and YJ for a bit as a condition of staying in the JL so he and Damian end up taking a few classes together.

Billy “I have Zeus on speed dial” Batson and Damian “I got a PhD in The Classics at age six” Wayne proceed to roast their history professors in the back of the classroom for all of the misinformation.

Damian: “Okay so I really need a human skull, but you can’t ask why.” Billy: “As long as you also don’t ask why.” *pulls out several pristine human skulls from pocket dimension* “Take your pick.” Damian: “…this one.” Jon: “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck”

They’re both eerily good at schooling their emotions due to countless years of emotional abuse and neglect. If anything goes wrong during a mission, it’s like a switch is flipped. They are suddenly completely level-headed.

Damian gifts Billy a PC that he built himself so they can play games together without so much lag. (It’s literally just Minecraft on creative mode. They design a working amusement park together.)

Both have been permanently banned from all zoos on the eastern seaboard. Damian tried to “liberate” the ostriches, and Billy taught the gorillas swear words in sign language.

Everyone Else: “We need to find civilization on this desert planet we crashed landed on or we’ll starve.” Billy and Damian: “The human body can go ten days without food.” Everyone: “…Are you okay?” Billy and Damian: “Not important.”

Billy, Jon, Colin, and Damian have a group chat where they regularly place bets on dumb mishaps the adults get themselves into. The one rule is they can’t bet with cash. Thus they create a trading system made entirely of local snacks, Pokémon cards, supernatural knick-knacks, and dares.

#billy batson #damian wayne #Billy: The Rock of Eternity has everything. Jon: THat doEs NoT MakE iT BetTEr #dc universe #dc #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #dc robin #robin damian #jon kent #jonathan kent #batman #colin wilkes #batfam

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bellaveux · 1 year

Text

SWEETHEART | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: constant stress had filled the gaps in wanda’s life after her ex-husband left the family and balancing work and her kids had started to take a toll on her. in search of relief, wanda hires you as a babysitter, not knowing she’d be falling for you.

content warnings: minors dni. smut!!, bit of angst?, kinda fluffy towards the end, milf!wanda, mommy!dom!wanda, babysitter!reader, bottom!reader, unspecified age gap, jealousy, mommy kink, fingering (r! receiving), multiple orgasms, mutual pining.

word count: 7.81k (did not plan for it to be this long but i kinda got carried away whoops)

— note. two people requested wanda x babysitter!reader so i decided to combine both requests and make one fic! i’m very sorry for the long wait, but i hope u like it!!

You were so sweet and so delicate—something Wanda never knew she needed in her life until now. From the moment you met her, Wanda sensed something special about you—a sense of purity and kindness that shone through in everything you did. She found herself captivated by your gentle spirit, your quiet demeanor, and the way you always seemed to radiate a sense of calm and comfort. There was just something about your innocence and sweetness that tugged at Wanda's heartstrings, and she found herself wanting to protect you, to cherish you, to keep you all to herself... and ruin you.

It had been years since her divorce with her ex-husband, whom she was glad to finally be rid of, leaving her alone with her work and her love for her children. And while Wanda was a strong and resilient woman, she recently had been finding herself in a perpetual state of stress as she tried to balance the demands of her work and the needs of her twin children, Billy and Tommy. Her days were a never-ending blur of conference calls, emails, and deadlines, all while managing the endless stream of requests and tantrums from her two little ones.

Despite her unwavering determination and tireless efforts, the weight of her responsibilities often felt overwhelming, leaving her exhausted and stretched thin day by day. And although she bore this load alone with grace and composure, the weight of it only threatened to stress her even more. Her mind raced with a never-ending list of tasks and responsibilities, and the pressure of meeting everyone's expectations left her feeling suffocated. She yearned for someone to ease her burden, to offer a comforting hand and take some of the weight off her weary shoulders.

Soon, she was in search of a trustworthy and reliable babysitter to care for her precious children. As a loving and attentive mother, she understood the importance of finding someone who would not only ensure her children's safety but also provide them with nurturing care and attention. Wanda longed for someone who possessed the patience, creativity, and enthusiasm needed to engage her children in activities that would both entertain and educate them. She envisioned a babysitter who could effortlessly create a warm and welcoming environment where her boys would feel comfortable and secure.

When her colleague and close friend, Natasha, recommended her younger sister’s friend, who had said to have been looking for a short and simple job outside of college, she gladly took the offer. Her second option, which she mentioned if you weren’t able to take the job, was recommending Kate, a bubbly girl about your age who is still in college and is close to both you and Yelena, if only she didn’t have constant archery competitions going on. But Natasha was happy to explain how responsible and intelligent you were, how well you got along with children, unlike her sister, and that you were always a joy to have around. It was a brief description, but Wanda thought it best to trust her friend’s word rather than look for a complete stranger with no connections to take care of her children.

What she didn’t expect, however, when you came up on her doorstep, was how incredibly stunning you were, standing in front of her with a bag hanging off your shoulder and a charming smile as you looked up at her. Your bright smile and youthful energy seemed to radiate from your very being, drawing Wanda's attention like a moth to a flame. You were beautiful.

And of course, you thought the same of her. When you arrived at Wanda's doorstep for the first time, you were struck by the sight of the elegant woman before you. Wanda was wearing a sharp, tailored suit that accentuated her curves and highlighted her poise and confidence. You couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as you looked at Wanda, who seemed to exude a sense of maturity and wisdom far beyond her years. You admired the way she carried herself with such grace and elegance, her movements smooth and fluid even when she was just opening her door. You were captivated by the way Wanda's green eyes sparkled with intelligence and warmth, and the way her smile seemed to light up the entire room. To you, Wanda was a vision of beauty and sophistication, a woman whose presence commanded attention and respect.

“Hi, Ms. Maximoff, I'm (y/n),” you greeted her with a pretty smile, trying to hide the fact that you were undoubtedly intimidated by her presence. “I’m Yelena’s friend.”

“Oh, please, you can just call me Wanda,” she returned your smile and shook your hand softly. “It’s nice to meet you. You can go right ahead and settle in. I’ll call the boys down in a second.”

As Wanda welcomed you into her home, she couldn't help but notice the way your fitted clothing hugged your curves, accentuating your feminine form as you walked in with a gentle sway of your hips. It was only a skirt and a loose sweater, but she still couldn't deny the thought that you were young and sexy, with her eyes falling slowly down to your ass as you walked, which sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. Wanda tried to push aside these thoughts, focusing instead on the importance of finding a reliable caregiver for her children.

She quickly introduced you to Billy and Tommy; the boys immediately took a liking to their new sitter, especially when you mentioned playing video games with them. As Wanda watched from a distance, slowly collecting the things she needed for work, she marveled at how effortlessly you seemed to connect with her children, engaging them in playful activities and genuinely caring for their needs. She was confident that you’d do a good job taking care of the boys, just from the first half hour or so of meeting you.

Wanda felt disappointed as she walked out of her house, wanting to go back in there and talk with you and learn about you, but she chose to ignore her thoughts and head to work without any delay. She then met Natasha later that day and immediately thanked her for finding someone like you to take care of the kids. She also might’ve left out the fact that you were incredibly attractive, and to be fair, she had been thinking about you for the rest of the day.

And the many days after that.

The first night she came home to you, you had been on the couch of her living room, studying with your nose in a textbook you had brought along with you. It was late at night—a little past eleven—and thankfully you had already put the boys to sleep long before she arrived.

“Oh, Ms. Maximoff! Welcome home,” you greeted her as she walked through the door. “I got the boys to go to bed early tonight, so they’re already ready upstairs.”

“Thank you, (y/n),” she smiled and set her bag down on the couch next to you before leaning in to look you in the eye. “And it’s Wanda, remember?”

She couldn’t help but smirk when your eyebrows rose for a moment, your cheeks turning pink as you looked up at her and said, “Right! W-Wanda… How was work?”

“It was alright.” Wanda sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Mostly tiring. I really appreciate you being here... for the boys, I mean.”

“It’s really no problem. I should be the one thanking you for the opportunity.”

Wanda stared at you. The soft curve of your cheekbones, the delicate arch of your eyebrows, and the way your full lips curled into a gentle smile all made Wanda's heart flutter. She couldn't help but appreciate the way your features seemed to blend together perfectly, creating a face that was both striking and alluring. And her name just rolled off of your tongue in a way that made Wanda’s insides tingle, and your voice gave her a sense of calmness. It sounded so pretty coming out of your mouth, and it only made Wanda want to hear it over and over. maybe in the comfort of her bed.

“I—um, I should probably get going,” you said, suddenly growing nervous under a stare before standing from your seat and cleaning up your things as you went. “I’ll be here around the same time tomorrow, but if you need me to come earlier, I can! I only have two classes tomorrow morning, so...”

Wanda smiled at you again and said, “Same time is good, honey.”

“Okay,” you nodded, lips curving upwards as you backed up towards the front door, clutching your books closely to your chest. “Same time.”

"Drive safe," was the last thing you heard her say that night.

You spent the next month taking care of Wanda’s kids each day after your classes. And Wanda was thankful. She’d often pick the boys up from school when she’s not working in the afternoon, take them home where you arrive shortly after they do, and stay with you in the comfort of her home until she has to leave in the evening. You’d stay until she came back late at night, coming home to a cooked dinner made by you, which did wonders for her beating heart.

Sometimes, when the nights grow late and the boys have drifted off to sleep, she’ll ask you to keep her company as she winds down for the night before you leave, and you never have the intention of turning her down. Each night, she gets out of her blazer, throws it over the couch, then unbuttons a few extra buttons of her top. She does it all in such a sensual way, you notice, and you can’t help but stare. At times, she’d get close, placing her hands on your hips when she wanted to move you if you were in the way or something, and it tingled, feeling her touch each and every time. Of course, Wanda does it for the sole purpose of that, wanting to rile you up with her actions to see how they would affect you, and it always amuses her.

“Care to join me?” She says with a small smirk playing on her lips, already making her way to the kitchen where you left a wrapped dinner for her.

You nodded eagerly and followed her into the kitchen, watching her reach for one of her bottles of wine on her counter.

“Mind getting two glasses for me, sweetheart?”

Blushing deeply at the endearment, you turned away to do exactly as she said. Obedient girl. When you reached the cabinet and opened it to retrieve two wine glasses, Wanda found herself holding her breath, her eyes fixed on your body. She couldn't help but think how sexy you looked, with your delicate features and your gentle smile, and your eyes shining with an innocent twinkle that made Wanda's heart race with anticipation. Her eyes followed your every move, drinking in the sight of you with a sense of longing and desire that she struggled to contain. She battled her inner thoughts, hiding the fact that she just wanted to grab you, taste you, shove her tongue down your throat, and make you moan against her.

When you turned back around with only one glass in your hand, she frowned slightly and said, “You don’t want to have a drink?”

“I still have to drive back to campus,” you say reluctantly, not particularly liking the fact that you had disappointed her a bit.

But she only smiled and said, "Right, of course."

Wanda couldn't help but feel a sense of desire as she watched your figure move towards a seat at the table with such fluid grace, her eyes tracing the curve of your hips and the gentle sway of your hair.

You spent most of your nights like this, talking to Wanda late at night after she came home from work. And it’s lovely. She never forgets to compliment you, whether it was how you looked or how amazing you were at taking care of her boys, and loves it especially when you talk about your day, your voice filling her ears along with a sense of calmness to ease her tired head.

But oftentimes, Wanda found herself unable to focus on any conversation with you. Every time you laughed, your body shook with a gentle ripple, and she couldn't help but feel drawn to your every movement, her eyes tracing the curve of your hips and the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Your voice was soft and soothing, your words flowing like honey and filling Wanda's heart with warmth. As you talked, Wanda found herself getting increasingly distracted, her mind wandering as she imagined what it would be like to hold you close, to run her fingers through your hair, and to taste your sweet lips.

“Wanda?”

"Hm?" Wanda hummed in response, trying to mask the fact that she had struggled to listen to you while you sat there in front of her, looking so delectable under the dim lights of her kitchen.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you continued slowly, dragging your sentence out. “But, what happened to your husband?”

Wanda only smiled at your question. She figured you’d be curious, and you wouldn’t be able to keep that question unanswered in your head forever. But she was comfortable with you. comfortable enough to tell you enough of what happened. He didn’t die or anything. And it wasn’t a great story—not that long, either. It was truly simple, and she guessed that was why it hurt even more when it happened.

“He didn’t love me anymore,” she said, watching your face closely. “There’s not that much to it. He found someone else, fell in love with her, then left me and our boys to go and start their own family. I wish he had been strong enough and loved me and the boys enough to keep this family whole… He wasn’t.”

Wanda spoke with a practiced detachment, trying her best to hide the raw emotions that still lingered beneath the surface. As she spoke, she noticed your eyes growing misty with tears, and she knew that her own pain was mirrored in your heart. But despite the deep sadness that threatened to overwhelm you both, Wanda couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in your gentle presence.

“I’m sorry.”

“Everything’s okay now, sweetheart,” she smiled lovingly at you, reaching out to wipe away your tears. She felt a sense of warmth and tenderness wash over her, and she knew that she was falling in love with you even more.

“The boys are strong,” you tell her, melting at the touch of her thumb against your cheek. “They’re strong like you. I couldn’t even tell that they’ve gone through that much heartbreak already... They don’t show it.”

“They come to me from time to time to let it all out,” Wanda replied, pulling her hand back to take a sip from her glass of wine. “They are strong… and I’m proud of them for it. But, I like it better when they come to me, as painful as it is to see them cry. Although, I haven’t been home enough lately to be there for them.”

You frowned slightly at her last sentence, “You’re an amazing mother, Wanda. Your ex-husband made the biggest mistake of his life when he left you. And your boys are smart; I know they understand. With what they’ve been talking to me about, they’re only worried that you might overwork yourself. Oh, and they said you need a vacation.”

A light chuckle erupts in Wanda’s throat. “Oh, I could definitely use one.”

Wanda smiled as she stared at you, your presence pleasantly washing over her, and in that moment, Wanda realized that you were more than just a pretty face or a sweet voice. You were a source of comfort and strength, a gentle soul who could soothe even the deepest wounds with your kindness and compassion.

The days after were none other than similar, with you following the same routine with Wanda: taking care of Billy and Tommy, cooking dinner, studying for a bit, playing with the kids for a bit, then Wanda comes home, and you keep her company for the night. It all feels amazing. Wanda loved coming home to you, and you loved it when she did, always anticipating the moment she walked through her front door.

With each passing day, Wanda found it increasingly difficult to hide her emotions and desire for you. Every time she saw you, her heart skipped a beat, and she just couldn't help but feel a sense of longing that she couldn't ignore. When you arrived at her doorstep each day to take care of her children, Wanda found herself staring at you a little too long, taking in the way your hair fell around your face, the way your eyes sparkled in the sunlight, the curve of your waist, and your legs when you walked. She always tried to keep her composure and act like a professional, but her desire for you was becoming harder and harder to hide. She’d find the tiniest excuses to touch you, to be able to put her hands on you—like tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, looking over your shoulder when you’re working on something, or keeping her hand on the small of your back when she walks with you.

She especially almost lost her mind when she arrived home early in the evening one day and you said something that made her knees almost give out as she stood in the living room.

“Boys, why don’t you show mommy what you made at school?” you called out from the living room.

And in that moment, Wanda’s eyes narrowed and she almost wanted to pounce; she wanted to grab you by the neck softly and demand that you repeat the very name that made her stomach flutter. Whenever you said it, Wanda felt a warmth spread through her body, and her heart swelled with pride. She loved the way you said it. She didn’t know where it came from or why you started referring to her as that when you talked to her boys, but it sounded so perfect coming from your mouth, so natural. It was like you knew how much it affected her, so you made sure to say it more often, finding new ways to incorporate it into your conversations.

Even though Wanda knew that it was just a term of endearment, and you probably said it to all the children you’ve babysat before, Wanda couldn't help but feel special and cherished every time she heard it. It was a small thing, but it meant the world to her, and she looked forward to every opportunity to hear you say it again.

Wanda’s recent joy didn’t last, unfortunately. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Wanda was just about to leave for work, slipping into her heels near the front door, when you delivered some news that she didn’t know she didn’t want to hear.

“I don’t think I can make it this Friday,” you tell Wanda, nervously playing with the hem of your sweater.

“That’s okay, honey,” she smiled in return, hoping that it would help ease your anxiety. “What’s going on on Friday? Exam?”

For a moment, you almost wanted to lie, but unsure as to why you should even keep the reason from her, you decided to tell her anyway. You’d figured she’d find out from Natasha at some point and wouldn’t want to be guilty of dishonesty when the time came when she would realize why.

“I... have a date.”

“Oh.” And just like that, her smile faded in a blink of an eye.

Wanda felt her heart sink as she took in your words, letting her know that you had to cancel your babysitting appointment for the evening because you had a blind date. She tried to push down the disappointment she felt, reminding herself that you had a life outside of the arrangement and that she couldn't expect you to be available all the time.

But deep down, Wanda couldn't shake the feeling of distress. She had sensed something between you two—a spark and desire—that she couldn't ignore. And now, as she imagined you going out with someone else, she felt a pang of jealousy and longing that she couldn't quite explain. She tried to tell herself that it was silly, that she was just projecting her own feelings onto you, but she couldn't help feeling disappointed that you and her wouldn't be spending the evening together.

“I see,” Wanda nodded, grabbing her car keys swiftly from the foyer without turning to look at you. “I hope it goes well.”

That was a lie. Even you knew it was. She then left without saying another word, leaving you and her boys alone in her house.

To be fair, you didn’t even want to go on this date to begin with, but Yelena was nothing short of convincing. It didn’t help that Kate had been on Yelena’s side when she mentioned scoring a blind date for you, all without your permission or any warning at all, recommending you to this other person they thought you’d like. You guessed it was a nice thought, that your friends were just trying to help, but honestly, you just didn’t want it. You’d said you weren’t interested at the start, but they did nothing but insist. Especially when it had been centuries, according to them, since you worked on your love life.

And so here you were, on a Friday night, sitting across another woman at a table in some local Italian restaurant near the main campus of your university. You had walked with her into the city, as it wasn’t that far off to begin with, out in the cold of the night, already wanting nothing more than to go home.

As you sat across from the other woman, you couldn't help but feel bored and disinterested in everything she had to say. Your mind wandered over to Wanda, the woman you had been babysitting for, the woman who had occupied your thoughts almost every second of the day, and the thought of spending time with her instead filled you with excitement. You couldn't help but think about how much more enjoyable your time would be if you were sitting in Wanda's living room, sipping wine, and talking the night away. You felt guilty for feeling this way, but you couldn't deny the pull that Wanda had on you. The thought of being near her made your heart race with excitement. Sitting across from your date, you couldn't help but wish you were somewhere else, somewhere you truly wanted to be—with Wanda.

And you honestly tried.

You tried to make polite conversation by feigning interest, but your mind always wandered back over to Wanda. You couldn't help but think of the way she looked at you, how she touched you in ways that made your skin tingle, or even how she looked when she wore her suits every day going into work—so confident and beautiful. You tried to focus on your date, but the images of Wanda kept intruding into your thoughts, and you found yourself wishing you were back at Wanda's house, with her hands all over you, her lips kissing you, and everything naughty. You fidgeted with your napkin, trying to shake the thoughts of Wanda from your mind, but they persisted, and you found yourself longing to be with the woman you desired rather than sitting across from this stranger.

When you returned to Wanda’s house, you immediately noticed how distant she had been getting over the next few days. She no longer drank wine and talked with you at night after she would arrive home; instead, she’d greet you briefly, then retreat to her bedroom and go to bed. Sometimes she’d completely ignore you, like brushing right past you in the kitchen without uttering a word, then leaving for work after saying goodbye to her boys and telling them to behave.

And your heart ached because of it.

Soon, you got tired of it. The way she ignored you. The way she looked through you. It made you feel both livid and dejected. You wanted to yell at her. So, after a few days of the same treatment from Wanda, you decided to work up the courage and talk to her.

“W-Wanda,” you called her, nervous eyes boring into her back as she halted her descent up the stairs.

It was dark out—about thirty minutes past twelve, you would say—and Wanda had just arrived home with that same tired look in her eyes. She greeted you with that same short greeting she had been giving you the last couple days, and each time you heard it, you wanted to cry.

Wanda turned around, meeting you with restless eyes, “What is it, y/n?”

You paused. Suddenly, everything you had practiced saying in your head had drifted away, leaving your mouth open with no words for it to fall from. You stood in her living room awkwardly as she waited for you to say something. Soon, she noticed your eyes had gotten glossy, with tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

That made Wanda’s eyebrows rise in concern. She stepped down from the stairs to walk closer toward you, asking, “Is everything okay?”

“No,” you confessed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Y-you... you,” you tried to get out, struggling to find words for a moment under Wanda’s intimidating stare. “You ignore me. You barely look at me anymore. You don’t talk to me anymore. You don’t touch me. And you don’t even notice me when you come home.”

“What are you talking about? I notice you—“

“No, it’s different now. You’re different. You treat me like I’m invisible.” You ran a hand through your hair as you spoke, letting your frustrations out. “Why do you do that? I didn’t… I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Wanda listened intently as you poured your heart out in front of her. You were careful not to raise your voice, not wanting to wake the kids up, but truthfully, it was difficult to do so when you wanted to yell at Wanda for making you feel this way. Finally, a tear rolled down your cheeks, and, without a second thought, Wanda immediately brought her hand up to wipe it away with her thumb, the same way she did that night when she told you how her ex-husband left. You were full of emotion and love, and Wanda wanted it all to herself.

Wanda stared at you for quite a while, and you stared back, confused, unlike her, who seemed to have numerous thoughts running through her head. Then, for a moment, her eyes fluttered down to your lips.

“Wanda, what are you—“

And with a soft, gentle touch, she leans in and presses her lips against yours, pouring all of her feelings into the kiss. She sighed against your lips, moaning at the taste of you. It's as if the world stops spinning, and in that moment, there are only the two of you. The taste of your lips against hers ignites a flame within Wanda, who steps closer towards you until her face is pressed up against yours, leaving now space in between. Wanda groans when you let her hands roam your waist and when you wrap your arms around her neck, and she leads you up the stairs, still kissing you, eventually leading you up to her bedroom.

Wanda's bedroom was a unique mix of chaos and order. The room was cluttered with her unmade blanket spread out on the bed and piles of books stacked on the floor, but it was still neat and organized. The queen-sized bed was made up with crisp, white sheets and a fluffy comforter, and the nightstand was clutter-free except for a lampshade that cast a soft, dim glow in the room. The darkness outside made the light seem even more comforting and inviting. It felt intimate and warm, as if it were enveloping you in a soothing embrace.

Her room was at the other end of the hall, far from the kids, thank God. But Wanda made sure to shut the door, pushing you until your back was against it, muffling your moans with her mouth, and drinking in each sound of your voice as she touched you all over.

“You’re so damn intoxicating, (y/n),” she said, moaning as she littered kisses down your neck. “I can’t control myself when I’m around you.”

Wanda’s heart melted at how you clung to her with your arms wrapped around her neck and your hands gripping tightly on the jacket of her suit. There was nothing but the sound of your breath filling the air as she continued to kiss you. She dragged her lips to your earlobe and smiled smugly when you shivered, noticing you were sensitive there. She darted her tongue out and licked behind your ear, trailing it down to your jaw.

You opened your mouth wide when she sucked on your neck, but she immediately pulled her head back to kiss you again, muffling the sound of your delicious moan.

“Mmph—Wanda,” you mumbled.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Wanda said against your lips. “I’m going to need you to be quiet for me, baby. Can you do that?”

As much as Wanda wanted to hear you scream and moan while she made you feel good, she didn’t want to wake the boys up with all the racket.

You nodded eagerly at her question and gave a tiny sound of affirmation, causing Wanda to smirk down at you. Obedient girl. The hands that gripped your hips moved towards the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and over your head before throwing it onto the floor. You wore a white, lace bra that cupped your tits perfectly, and Wanda couldn’t help but bring her hands up to palm them, groping them as you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against her bedroom door.

“My perfect, little angel,” she whispered, hands groping you over your lace bra.

Wanda then leaned forward, prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around her waist before carrying you over to her bed and laying you down against her mattress. And fuck, you looked amazing. She didn’t know how she managed to control herself in the beginning when you looked so fucking sexy like this. There was only so much her brain could fantasize about, and seeing you in person like this, with your eyes begging for her to take you, god, she was going to lose it.

Her hands placed themselves under your thighs, spreading them slightly so that she could fight right between them. Her fingers traveled slowly up your skirt, feeling the plush flesh of your smooth thighs. As she played with your skirt, she dragged her lips down from your neck to your collarbones and down to the valley of your breasts, teeth nipping softly at your skin, making sure to leave marks and pretty, purple bruises as she went. Feeling you squirm underneath her was one of the best feelings she had ever felt. She moved her hands from your thighs and then brought one up to your white bra, unclasping them from the back and letting your gorgeous tits out with a slight jiggle. Wanda hummed deeply as she took your nipple into her mouth and sucked.

“Wanda,” you breathed softly, hands burying themselves into her hair.

“No, baby,” she smirked and brought her other hand up, wrapping it around your neck. “You’ve got a better name for me, don’t you, darling?”

“W-What?” You breathed against her, gripping tight on her shoulders.

“My other name, sweetheart,” she says, smiling into your chest before looking up toward your face. “You know what it is. Say it. I wanna hear it from that pretty mouth of yours.”

You blushed deeply, making her lean up to place butterfly kisses all over your reddened cheeks.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl?”

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, I want to be good.”

“For who?”

You stared at her when you opened your mouth to say, “Mommy...”

“Mm, that’s right, sweetheart,” Wanda said, seemingly unable to fight the wicked grin from appearing on her face, staring down at you with hunger in her eyes.

She took your breath away once more as she leaned down to kiss you, moving her mouth against yours with breathy moans falling from both of your tongues. It was a softer kiss this time—so gentle that you almost thought you were dreaming, wondering still if this was even all real. It became very real when you felt Wanda’s hands hike up your skirt, feeling the fabric of your pants between her fingertips.

And you were embarrassed. Soon she’d see and feel how wet you were, aching too much between your legs from the friction you had been wanting to ease since you had laid eyes on her. You groaned and moved your hands to the collar of Wanda’s suit jacket, trying desperately to pull it off her shoulders, but she wouldn’t have it. Instead, she grabbed your wrists and moved them above your head.

“Keep them there,” she said, her voice firm and demanding, leaving no room for any protests. “Unfortunately for you, sweetheart, you’ve been a bad girl.”

You furrowed your brows and huffed out in frustration, “How?”

“You know, I really don’t like sharing.” Wanda said before placing a quick kiss against your lips and staring down at you with an expression that shook you to your core, “But, you decided to go out and share what belongs to me... on that little date you went on.”

Your eyes widened, immediately wanting to explain everything, “Wanda, that was just—“

“I don’t want to hear it, (y/n). Right now, just focus on me. Only me.”

Her fingers brush over your clothed sex, running along the wetness of the fabric, causing you to twitch slightly against her. You looked so delectable like this. She just wanted to eat you right up. Soon, Wanda’s fingers pressed harshly against your clitoral area, rubbing it in tight circles, only to make you whine into her shoulder. You looked so pretty like this. Honestly, she could almost come from just the sight of you like this. A sly smile adorned her face as she played with you. Pictures of you and a stranger filled her thoughts, recalling what that date looked like in her head—you dressed up all pretty, that beautiful smile you showcased as you laughed, that innocent twinkle in your eye, the sound of your voice, and your fleeting touches—all for someone else.

The dim light of the lampshade on her nightstand cast a warm glow across the room, illuminating your face and casting shadows over the curves of your body. Her hands carefully dragged the fabric of your skirt down your legs, and you were left in nothing but your panties. And Wanda could drool at the sight of you. You suddenly felt shy under her stare, being the only one naked in the room with her still fully clothed in one of her sexy suits, and you just wanted nothing more than to reach out and help her out of it.

“Tell me,” she whispered, leaning down to the crook of your neck to inhale your sweet fragrance. “Did she see you like this? Did she fuck you?”

“What? No, Wanda, I—“

She stopped you with a kiss, groaning into your mouth as her hands moved to cup your breasts. “Try again.”

“She didn’t, mommy.”

“Good. Now, open,” Wanda smirked lightly as you opened your mouth wide enough for her to slide two of her fingers into your mouth. “Get these wet for me, baby.”

You did exactly as she asked. Twirling and running your tongue all over her fingers, making them slick with saliva, You could hear Wanda sigh in satisfaction as you did your work, and she watched every second of it. She wondered what else you would take in your mouth for her—her strap. But that was for another night, she supposed.

Soon, she pulled her fingers out, replacing them in her mouth once again. Her tongue entered your mouth with ease, and you couldn’t help but moan at the taste of her, knowing her lipstick smudged against your skin. Her wet fingers traveled down the trail of your skin, all the way down to where her fingertips met the lacy fabric of your pants and slipped into them. Wanda pulled her head back to watch your face contort into an expression of euphoria as her slipper fingers massaged your clitter. It was heavenly. And you were perfect.

Unable to wait any longer, Wanda pushed two of her fingers into you, moaning against your neck as she felt how wet and tight you were around her fingers. When your arms dropped from above your head to hold onto her shoulders, Wanda allowed it to happen, falling in love with the way you held on to her as she fucked you. She wanted to start slowly, in truth, but as soon as she felt your hands in her hair and on her shoulders, as she heard your breathy moans, she just couldn’t help it. She pumped and pumped her fingers into you, turning you into the prettiest, shivering mess she had ever laid her eyes on. It turned her on so much.

“I—Mommy, I’m going to—“ you tried to say as quietly as you could.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” she said, smiling adoringly. “Keep your pretty eyes on me.”

The pad of her fingertips continued to press against your sensitive walls, pumping air in and out of you with a delicious squelch. Wanda dragged her lips against your chest until she popped one of your nipples into her mouth and sucked hard. Everything she did made you squirm underneath her. And god, you were so sexy. Wanda felt like she was looking at an art piece—the way your body moved, the colors of your skin under the dim light, the lines of your curves fitting perfectly against her. So perfect. Her sweet girl.

Finally, the first orgasm crashed in waves throughout your entire body, legs quivering against Wanda as she slowed her movements in order to let you ride out your high. You had muffled your moan by pressing your face into her shoulder. Fuck, you were so hot. Wanda swears she came at just the sight of you coming.

“My pretty baby,” she said. “So perfect.”

And you try to take a moment to breathe, to catch your breath before anything else could happen, but it is too late to stop her. Wanda pushed a third finger into you, your jaw dropping as you felt your walls stretch around her digits. The pad of her thumb rolls over your clitter in tight circles, pressing onto your sensitive bundle of nerves with no mercy.

It almost felt like she was testing you—testing your limits, how far you could go, and how well you could hide your moans. It was by no means easy, especially when she started pumping all over again, making the grip on her shoulders tighten. You pulled desperately at the fabric of her jacket, and Wanda didn’t even care if you were to eventually rip it accidentally. Hell, she’d be proud of it.

You jolted under her touch, arching your back and pressing your front against hers as she fucked you. She watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you lost yourself in pleasure. You almost wanted to pull away because you knew if you went on any longer, you’d be screaming. But Wanda had an easy solution for that problem. The moment you started moaning helplessly loud, she threw her other arm up and clasped the palm of her hand over your mouth, muffling your moans.

“Quiet, baby, remember?”

And so she pulled another orgasm out of you, and then another, and another… and another.

You looked so beautiful by the end of it; sweat rolled down your temples, your body was limp as you gasped for air, arms reaching out to Wanda as she pulled away from you for some reason you couldn’t tell given how fucked out and tired you were. She only got up to get rid of the clothes she was wearing and grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean up the mess you made between your legs. As she did so, she fought the urge to spread your thighs, diving face first into your wet cavern, all for her to devour — but you would be screaming if she did that. Another time, Wanda thought.

After she cleaned you up, Wanda pulled you into her arms, laying beside you with your head in the crook of her neck as she smoothed her hands over your hips, your waist, and your thighs. You were still trembling slightly against her; she could feel it, and she couldn’t help but smile.

You fell asleep quickly, and as Wanda watched you drift off, she couldn't help but be captivated by you. The way her lamp shade illuminated your features, casting a soft glow on your skin, made you look ethereal. Wanda traced the contours of your face with her fingertips, memorizing every curve and angle while feeling your skin. She watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath. She watched when your lips parted slightly as you breathed, and Wanda found herself leaning in, almost unconsciously, to press a soft kiss against them. You stirred momentarily but didn't wake up, and Wanda settled back onto the pillows with a contented sigh.

As she gazed at your sleeping form, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She was right where she wanted to be.

“Sleep well, sweetheart.”

In the glow of the moonlight filtering in through the window, you and Wanda lie intertwined on her bed. Your bodies were nestled closely together, with Wanda's arm draped protectively around your waist. The room is quiet except for the gentle hum of your breaths as you both sleep soundly, at peace in each other's embrace. The air is warm and fragrant, the scent of lavender from the diffuser on Wanda's nightstand filling their senses. As you slept, your faces appeared serene and content, with faint smiles playing at the corners of both of your lips. And in this moment, all the worries and stresses of the outside world fade away, replaced by a deep sense of comfort and security.

Morning came soon after as the soft light of the rising sun seeped through the window, casting a gentle glow over the room, and you slowly opened your eyes, only to find Wanda sleeping peacefully next to you. A smile creeps onto your face as you gaze upon Wanda's serene and beautiful face. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness and warmth inside of you, yet you also felt a bit shy and hesitant, not wanting to disturb Wanda's peaceful slumber. The room was quiet except for the gentle sound of your breathing, and you took a moment to savor this peaceful moment with Wanda, your heart full of love and affection.

But then you tore your eyes off of her and stared at the clock on her nightstand.

“Wanda,” you said, shaking her lightly. “Wanda. Wanda, it’s eleven o’clock. The boys are late for school!”

The only response you got was a groan as Wanda stirred in her sleep, refusing to open her eyes and, instead, rolling over and pulling you close, shoving her face into the crook of your neck. You wanted to smile at the action, but you were also worried about the fact that you both slept in and that her boys were late for school.

“Wanda.”

“I already took them to school, (y/n),” she said, mumbling against your skin, voice deep and groggy.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice, “You did?”

“Yes, honey,” she said.

Your stomach began to flutter, and your heart filled with warmth at the endearment, even though she had already been calling you that since you had gotten here. But after hearing it last night, you felt a surge of joy. The way Wanda says it, with such tenderness and love, is enough to make you feel like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

You also smiled at the thought of Wanda waking up early in the morning to take her children to school, then coming home and immediately jumping back into bed just to sleep with you. The very thought of it made you swoon.

Wanda held you tightly in her arms, her breath warm on your neck. You felt a warmth spread throughout your body as you snuggled deeper into Wanda's embrace. The bed was so comfortable and the atmosphere so peaceful that you wished you could stay there forever. You loved the feeling of being held by Wanda and feeling safe and loved. It was a sense of domesticity that she never thought she would experience.

“(Y/n)?”

You hummed in response, your fingers raking through Wanda’s locks.

“The date you went on... How did it go?”

You paused, wondering why that was one of the first things she thought of. After seconds of thinking, you put the pieces together. You already figured she was jealous, but it was still a bit surprising to think about.

“It was terrible,” you smiled. “I was thinking of you the whole time.”

“The date was terrible? Or you thinking about me the whole time was terrible?”

“You’re smart, mommy. I think you can figure that one out by yourself.”

Wanda let out a deep laugh against your neck, “Mmm, I like it when you call me that.”

“I know,” you smiled.

“Go on a date with me.”

Wanda pulled her head back from your neck to look at you. A smile played on her lips as she stared at you. God, you looked so beautiful. Your lips were puffy, your cheeks squished up against her pillow, and your hair was all over the place—it was adorable.

“What?” You smiled at her incredulously.

“I’m being serious,” she said, smiling back at you. “Go on a date with me.”

And for a moment there, you really did contemplate on whether she was serious or not. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to see if you were still dreaming somehow. But Wanda’s face said it all.

You tried to fight the joyous smile that was making its way onto your face. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you repeated.

With a soft smile on her face, Wanda leaned in and placed a tender kiss on your forehead, followed by a series of playful, affectionate pecks all over your face. The warmth of your bodies entwined was comforting, and Wanda couldn't help but admire the way your soft features looked in the morning light. She placed another gentle kiss on your lips, savoring the taste of sweetness against her mouth.

Wanda’s heart swelled with affection, feeling lucky to have you in her arms. And she’ll take you on that date, making sure she's the only thing on your mind, just like you were in hers.

— navigation! | masterlist!

note. i used this proofreader thing which fixes most of my grammatical errors but it could’ve just yk not have worked, so if there’s still any errors i apologize and i also apologize a second time bc i will not be fixing them anytime soon bc i am lazy :) peace

#bellaveux writes!#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #avengers x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch

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arlana-likes-to-write · 5 months

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Holiday Compromise

Summary: It was your nature to be a giver. You could give the shirt off your back if your girlfriend asked you for it. But when she is just as stubborn as you are, you have to be creative this holiday season to give the small family of three a Christmas they deserve.

Warning: slander of Vision and Sharon (no hate to them), implied sex, drinking, divorce, mention of fighting and past childhood trauma, reader is lowkeye rich, no Avenger/power AU

Note: I can't believe this is my first Wanda x reader fic, wild.

Word Count: 5.2k

You heard Wanda say goodbye to Billy and Tommy as their father picked them up to celebrate Thanksgiving with him and his new girlfriend. It was the second Thanksgiving for the boys, a feeling you knew all too well as your parents divorced at a young age. You were in the kitchen, washing off the dirty dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. "You didn't have to do that," Wanda said, leaning against the wall with their arms crossed. She was wearing a maroon dress with long sleeves that came to the middle of her thighs. She was beautiful.

"Of course I do," you said. "You cooked, I cleaned, it's only fair." She smiled at you before grabbing two wine glasses and filling them with a red wine you brought. She jumped onto the counter, slowly sipping her wine as she watched you. Once you were done and the dishwasher was running, you grabbed your glass and moved between Wanda's legs. You took a sip. "Were the boys excited to go to their father's?" You asked. Wanda sighed.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I think so." You put her glass down and placed your hands on her thighs. This was the first holiday the twins had to experience with divorced parents.

"The first holiday is hard." You smiled. "But it gets easier, I promise." You kissed her forehead. You met Wanda 10 months ago while walking out of a coffee shop on your way to a meeting for your company. As you left the shop, someone ran into you, spilling your coffee all over you. Your outfit was ruined, and on any other day, you would be upset, but you were distracted by the beauty of the woman in front of you. She was frantically trying to clean up the mess. You told her not to worry about it and asked her for dinner. "So," you took another sip of your wine. "What do you want to do for the rest of the night, my love?" You asked, kissing her cheek and down her neck. You made sure not to leave marks on her skin. Her breathing hitched.

"I see you have some ideas." You smiled against her skin.

"Can you blame me?" You asked, looking at her. "The food was delicious, but I was hungry for something else the entire time." You loved making her blush. Wanda was incredibly self-conscious of her body since giving birth to the twins. It didn't help that Vision rarely gave her attention after she gave birth. But my god, you were in love with her body. You found it difficult to keep your hands to yourself in front of her kids. Wanda smiled, biting her lip.

"You make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world," you kissed her softly, taking her glass out of her hand. You lifted her. She gasped at the sudden movement and put her hands around your neck.

"It's because you are. Let me show you."

To your surprise, you woke up to an empty bed. You were always the first one up because you had clients in different time zones. But you made sure to take the day after Thanksgiving off so you could cuddle with your girlfriend. Her side of the bed was cold. You sat up, stretched your arms over your head, and glanced at the clock. It was 0730. You sighed and got out of bed. You put on shorts and a sweatshirt to look for Wanda.

She wasn't hard to find as you stepped into the kitchen, hunched over a notebook, a calculator, and her checkbook. You walked up behind her on quiet feet, wrapping your arms around her. She was tensed up but soon relaxed in your arms. "I wanted more cuddles." You pouted. Your girlfriend chuckled, turning around to face you.

"I'm sorry, baby," you loved when she spoke in her native tongue. It was incredibly sexy.

"Why are you up so early? You don't have to be at work till 5. She was working the evening shift at a 24-hour diner. You saw the stress and worry in her features. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing I can't handle." She said. Yeah, that wasn't going to fly. Early in your relationship, she hid everything from you because Vision was never there for her. You weren't his biggest fan.

"Hey, don't keep things to yourself. Remember, we are a team." She sighed.

"I'm worried about money," she confessed. "With the holidays coming up, I just hope I can give the boys a good holiday with everything they've been through." You hummed, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry this isn't your problem."

"Hey," you spun her around from the table. "I love those boys like they are my own. We will figure it out." She shook her head, biting her lip.

"I'm their mother," she firmly said. "I do not need your help." You nodded.

"Okay," you smiled, rubbing your hands up and down her arms. "But can we cuddle some more, please?" You pouted. Your girlfriend rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Yes, we can, but," she kissed you softly. "Please forget about this, okay? I don't need you spoiling us." You kissed her forehead, and she led you back to her room, promising you would forget it.

So you were struggling to keep your promise. Every time your mind had a spare moment, you thought about Wanda hunched over her checkbook, trying to make ends meet. You knew Vision was paying the bare minimum of child support when he could afford more. But you felt trapped. It was in your nature to help those you loved and cared for. Your second-grade teacher, who allowed you to spend your lunch in her classroom because you were trying to work through your parent's divorce, needed money for hip surgery - you donated the rest of the amount to her fund. Your high school coach was in a car accident - you bought him a new one. Your secretary was diagnosed with breast cancer - you covered the medical expenses and other bills that came up. You were fortunate to be in the position you were in. You had enough money and wanted to give it all to Wanda and the twins.

However, it was early on in your relationship that Wanda wasn't with you for the money. She fought you on paying for her share of the bill, refused any gift, and never asked to help with bills. On the one hand, it made you love the mother of two more because you had your fair share of partners who took advantage of your status. Conversely, you wanted to spoil the small family if only she would let you.

"What's got you thinking so hard?" Natasha asked as she opened the door to your office. The Russian was your second in command, your best friend, the sister who always wanted. Her family lived next to your father, and when it was his weekend, you would spend more time at Natasha's house than at his. Melina helped you get emancipated at 15 since you were done being a pawn in your parent's game. It was around that time you and Natasha tried dating; you were better off as friends - family. She set a stack of papers on your desk. Ugh, you hated being the boss. "Speak. I got other things to do on my list."

"Jeez, thanks," you stood up. "You got time for a drink."

"I guess I could make time in my busy schedule." Typical. You chuckled and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. "Damn, we are drinking the good stuff," she took off her jacket and draped it on the back of the chair before sitting down. "Is this about Wanda? I like her. She is so much better than Sharon." You rolled your eyes, pouring the alcohol into the two glasses and giving one of them to her. No one liked Sharon. "Cheers." You hit your glass against hers and sat down.

"Wanda is having financial troubles," you swirled the amber liquid in the glass before taking a sip. "She worries about the holidays but won't let me. She's stubborn." You loved her, but she would work herself to death to provide for her boys.

"You are stubborn, too; it makes sense why you fit so well together," you flipped her off. "So she won't let you spoil her or the boys with things."

"Yes! I have all this money. What's the point if I can't spoil my girlfriend," Natasha rolled her eyes, but she was quiet, biting the inside of her cheek. You knew that she was thinking.

"So don't spoil them with things. Give them an experience. Bring them to the cabin up north," she suggested. "All you have to do is provide the food and sex."

"That is," you paused. It was a good idea. The cabin was built on some property you bought in Upstate New York. The three-bedroom, 2.5-bath sat on 16 acres of land with a private pond perfect for ice skating. You allowed close friends to use it year-round. You could take them ice skating and sledding; if you were lucky, the Northern Lights would appear. "Not a bad idea."

"That's why you keep me around," she finished her drink. "Just bring it up to her and let me know she says. Because if you aren't going to use it," Natasha stood up. "I will use it." You finished your drink and placed the two dirty glasses on the shelf behind you to be cleaned later. You chuckled.

"Are you going to take Bucky?" You questioned. She smirked.

"Him and possibly Steve, make things interesting," you cringed, grabbing the pile of paper she brought in.

"I'd have to burn down the cabin if you three spent a weekend there," you deadpanned. The redhead flipped you off.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman and always clean up after myself."

"Get out of here, you pervert, before I have to file an HR report," she waved and opened the door. "Nat," she stopped at the sound of her name. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," she smiled. "You'd do the same thing for me."

You were a little nervous as you sat on the edge of your bed and waited for Wanda. The twins were with Vision, so after her shift, she came over. She was in the bathroom, showering and getting ready for bed. You wanted to ask her sooner rather than later, but your stomach was in knots. What if she hated the idea? What if she thought you were being pushy and broke up with you? That would destroy you. "Baby," you turned to face your girlfriend's voice. She was drying her hair and wearing a shirt that was too big for her and came down to her thighs. "Are you okay?"

Sometimes, when you looked at Wanda, your brain short-circuited. She was so beautiful. Vision was an idiot, but hey, his loss was your gain. Your girlfriend smirked, threw the towel back in the bathroom, and walked over to you. She stood in front of you before straddling your waist. Immediately, your hands went to her thighs, massaging them. "Where have you been all night?" She asked, tracing the lines on your forehead. "I feel like you've been a million miles away." You sighed, taking her hand and kissing it.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, my brain is all over the place."

"Can I help?" She whispered, kissing your cheek. "You work so hard." Her lips trailed down your neck and nibbled on a sensitive spot below your ear. "You help so many people," Wanda began playing with the bottom of your shirt, hands grazing your stomach and flexing your muscles. "Let me take care of you," her lips ghosted over yours. "Please." You groaned; the hold you had on your thighs tightened. She was going to be the death of you. There was a voice in the back of your mind screaming to give in, to have this talk later. But it couldn't wait. Using your strength, you flipped her over. She landed on her back and would have bounced off if you weren't holding onto her. Your face was in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. Vanilla. Lavender. Fresh linen.

"As much as I want to," you said. "We need to talk about something." She touched your cheek and forced you to look at her. Her green eyes were filled with worry. "It's nothing bad. It's about the holiday season." She huffed, dropped her hand, and sat up. You were forced on your knees.

"And I thought I told you to forget about it."

"I know, I know," you sat up on your knees to be between her legs. "But you know how I am, baby," she rolled her eyes, and you took her hands in yours. "Just I came up with a compromise if you'll listen." She sighed but nodded. "I know you said you don't need my help, and I don't want to help," you added quickly. "However, I want to treat you and the twins. I own a cabin in Upstate New York, and we could go there for a few days after Christmas. It will cost me nothing besides food and the gas to drive up there," Wanda was giving you her classic 'mom look' when the twins said something she didn't like. "It has a hot tub," you said, trailing your fingers up and down her thigh. You liked the way goosebumps formed.

"No presents."

"3 presents," you countered. "2 for the boys and 1 for you." She sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"You can't get us anything for Hanukkah then." You groaned. Dammit, you wanted to get them something. But you had to compromise.

"Deal," you smiled. "So," your hands went to her waist. She didn't slap them away, so you figured it was good. "Are we going?" She was fighting to keep the smile from forming on her face; she was forced to bite her lip.

"Yes, we can go. I'll discuss it with Vision." She said. SHE SAID YES!

"Wooo," you cheered, picking her up, moving her to the middle of the bed, and attacking her face with kisses. Her laughter was infectious. She pushed her away, and you turned on your side, head resting on your hand. Wanda's cheeks were pink, and she was slightly out of breath. "You are going to love it there," you told her. "It's beautiful and quiet. The boys can have their room if they want. That reminds me, the place could use a good cleaning. I'll call the service tomorrow. What do we want to do for dinner? Oh! I'll get the place decorated and-"

"Baby," Wanda cut you off with a playful smile. "We have a few weeks. No need to rush everything."

"I know," you brought her into your arms. "I'm just very excited." She giggled.

"Yeah, so am I."

"Boys, are you sure you have everything?" Their mother asked for the third time since picking them up at Vision's. It was Christmas. The four of you spent a quiet morning of breakfast and gift unwrapping; the gifts you got were at the cabin. Then you brought the boys to Vision's so Wanda could do some last-minute packing. The look on the man's face was hilarious when he opened the door, not expecting to see you. Thankfully, the twins excitedly ran off toward the Christmas tree, preventing awkward or hateful interactions. You drove home to spend a few hours alone with Wanda before returning to their father's.

"Yes, Mom," they said in unison, but they were already engrossed in what movie they would watch on the TV. Their jaws dropped when they saw them on the back of the driver and passenger seats. Wanda was in the trunk, reorganizing the back to fit the stuff they wanted to bring they got from their father. You rounded the back and saw Vision from the front door, a smirk on his face as he watched his ex-wife struggle. You were quick to kiss her, keeping your eyes on the man. He turned around and went back inside.

"If they forgot something, I have extra of everything," you rearranged the back and closed the trunk. "No stress, right?"

"Right, no stress." You smiled and walked to the driver's seat.

"Boys, are you ready?" You asked and fastened your seat belt.

"Yes!" They cheered. You were surprised they were excited to go. They spent a few days reading up on the wildlife they might encounter. You smiled, watching the boys put on their headphones and hit play. Wanda got in, getting settled with a blanket and a few necessary road trip snacks. You started the car and began the drive with your hand on Wanda's thigh.

The drive to the cabin was your favorite, especially in the winter. The mountain views were blanketed in the snow. Trees that lost their leaves but told a different story. It was so quiet, too, a stark contrast to the city. There were about 30 minutes left of the drive; you were taking it slow as the roads weren't the best. Billy and Tommy were fast asleep, and Wanda played with the rings in your hand. You told her she didn't need to stay up, but she told you she was okay. "Why did you buy property out here?" She asked, keeping her voice low. "I feel like you could have brought property anywhere.' You chuckled; she wasn't wrong, and you have thought about it - a house in Florida on the beach, a French villa in the countryside, anywhere. You sighed.

"When I first realized I could afford anything, I wanted a cabin like this," you told her. "My mother had one when she was younger, and before the divorce, we would go, but a fire destroyed it. In my delusion, I thought if I bought one, we could be a family again," you shrugged. "Obliviously, it didn't work." You hated your parents, but a part of you was desperate for their love and acceptance.

"When was the last time you spoke with them?" She asked.

"About three years ago," you answered. "Mom needed some money, so I gave it to her," your girlfriend shook her head. "What is it?"

"Your heart is too big for this world," she kissed the back of your hand. Natasha and her family would say the same thing. However, they would say that's how you would get hurt.

"Are we there yet?" Billy groaned from the back. You chuckled.

"Almost, buddy, about 15 minutes." You said with a smile.

"I'm hungry," this time it was Tommy. Wanda rolled her eyes. That boy was always hungry.

"I'll cook us something when we get there, but first, we have to bring our stuff inside."

"And open presents," you added on quickly. The twins woke up more at the mention of presents.

"Presents are waiting for us!" Billy excitedly said. You nodded.

"Of course. It's still Christmas!"

"There better be only three presents under that tree," Wanda gave you a stern look.

"I only bought three presents," you said. She looked like she did not believe you. "I promise! That was our deal!" You stood by it, but the people you worked for didn't make that promise. "Babe, it's fine."

You parked the car, and before you could speak with the family, they were out of the car to look at the cabin. Smiling, you got out yourself. It did look better in real life than in the pictures. You hired some people to come out and decorate the cabin. It was perfect with the freshly powered snow; lights hung on the roof, and the trees outside. There were some Christmas-themed blowups out front. Wanda looked at you. "You did all of this for us?" She questioned. You shrugged.

"It was nothing," you smiled, scratching your head.

"Boys, grab your stuff," Wanda instructed her kids. The twins grabbed their backpacks and suitcases and ran for the door, kicking up the snow as they went. You grabbed your bag, and Wanda's before joining them. There was other stuff in the car, but that could wait. The twins were bouncing on their heels as you typed in the code and opened the door. "Oh my god," Wanda whispered. It was like a Hallmark movie threw up in the cabin. There were more lights and wreaths, and a Christmas tree was at the center of it all. You should have given them a limit.

"Presents!" Tommy yelled, running over to the tree. So, there were more than three underneath the tree. Boxes were stacked high around it.

"Is this all for us?" Billy asked, looking back at you. You ruffled his hair.

"A majority of it is. I think there are a few for your mom and me," you said as you looked back at their mother, whose arms were crossed. Oh, she was pissed. "Boys, go pick out your room. Down the hall." Tommy stood up, looking between you and his mom.

"Are you in trouble?" He whispered.

"Maybe," you admitted. "Now go." They were quick to grab their things and run off. "It wasn't me," you said when they were out of earshot.

"I said three presents."

"I did buy 3," you paused. "Well, technically 4, but I bought it for myself." You quickly closed the distance between you and her. Her arms were still crossed, but she allowed you to wrap your arms around her. "All of these gifts are from my coworkers; you know they love the boys just as much as I do." There were rare times when you needed to pick up the boys from school when Vision or Wanda's schedules would line up differently. Since you were the boss, it was easier for you to leave. You brought them back to your office until Vision or Wanda could pick them up. Everyone loved them. You would find them with Yelena or Natasha in their office, Bucky in the cafeteria, or Shuri in the lab. When they asked what the family wanted for Christmas, you couldn't tell them nothing. It was in your nature to spoil people, so if you couldn't do it, you might as well have your coworkers do the dirty work. "Baby," you took her cheeks in your hands. "You and the boys deserve a wonderful stress-free Christmas with the year you three had. If I can provide the space and have others spoil you," you glanced at the tree. "They did go over the top. I'll talk to them." She giggled and placed her hands on top of yours. "I'll do it. You deserve the world; let me give it to you the next few days," she sighed, resting her head on your shoulder. You felt her tears on your shirt.

"Okay," her voice was so soft. "Thank you." You kissed the top of her head.

"You're welcome. Now," you whipped away her tears. "We have some very excited kids that want to open presents." You saw the boys peek their heads around the corner. Wanda laughed.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get going."

Growing up, you dreamed of having a family vacation like this one. As soon as Tommy and Billy were up with bellies filled with breakfast, the fun would begin - ice skating on the pond, sledding on the hill, and winter hikes in the surrounding woods. But also snowball fights, lots of them. You saw the northern lights at night and a little wildlife in the backyard, and you flew the drones you got the boys for Christmas. When they were asleep, you would draw a bath for Wanda, sit by the fireplace in the master, or take a dip in the hot tub. It was perfect; you'd never seen your girlfriend this relaxed. She was smiling, laughing, and more carefree. Even the boys noticed the change in their mother.

At last, all vacations must end; it was your last night at the cabin. Wanda cooked a fantastic dinner; you refused her help with every meal, so you knew she was itching to get back in the kitchen. Then it was smores around the fire and one final movie night. You were putting Billy to bed; the poor kid was falling asleep halfway through the movie. The sound of your name from the sleepy boy made you stop and turn around. "What's up, bud?" You asked, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. If his eyes weren't opened, you would have thought he fell back to sleep.

"Are you going to marry my mom?" You fought your jaw dropping and thanked all your years of being CEO to keep a straight face.

"I'd like to," you said honestly. You never liked lying, especially to kids. You were often on the receiving end of the lies from your parents. "Is that okay with you and your brother?" He nodded quickly, and a weight you didn't realize was on your shoulders was lifted.

"I like you, and you make Mom smile," he frowned slightly. "My dad doesn't like you." You chuckled, shaking your head.

"I'm aware, but that's not gonna stop me from being with your mom, okay?" He nodded and sat up, staring down at his hands.

"They fought a lot," he admitted. "They tried not to do it in front of us, but we still heard it." Oh, you knew that feeling well. They were lucky to have each other. "I don't like fighting. Dad and his new girlfriend fight sometimes, too," you weren't aware of that. You wondered if Wanda knew.

"Do you like her?" The boy shrugged.

"She's okay, not as nice as you," that made you smile. "She just kind of ignored us when we are there." You hated some of the partners your parents ended up with.

"Look at me," he slowly did. "I want you to know that you and your brother can always come to me. You are part of my family." Billy smiled.

"Thank you," he hugged you.

"Always," you whispered, kissing his forehead. "Get some sleep." He played back down.

"Goodnight."

"Night, buddy," you turned off the overhead lights and closed the door. Wanda was in the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea. "Is Tommy asleep?" You asked, wrapping your arms around her waist. She nodded.

"He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow," you chuckled, kissing her shoulder. "You were in there awhile with Billy; everything okay?"

"Yup," you popped the 'p' at the end of the word. She spun around, back against the counter, and tilted her head at you. She was a mind reader; you swore by it. "We were just talking about you and me. The boys like me." She rolled her eyes.

"I could have told you that." You laughed.

"So it's our last night here; what do you want to do?" She bite her lip, moving her head from side to side.

"You know," she trailed her hand up and down your chest. "I haven't gotten my Christmas present yet."

"And I thought you didn't want me to get you anything," she shrugged, smiling.

"You got a girl curious," you smiled, took her free hand, and led her into the master.

"Sit and close your eyes," she did as she was told and sipped on her tea. You weren't sure why you were so nervous to give it to her. Every time you went to bring it out of its hiding place, your anxiety got the better of you. You returned to the bed with a small jewelry box and bag. You set them next to her. "You can open your eyes." She did and handed you the mug. "Open the bag first," you told her, placing the mug on the side table. Wanda slowly opened the bag, pulling out the tissue paper.

"Lingerie," she laughed, taking the maroon pieces out. You smirked. "I can't believe it." You shrugged, kneeling in front of her.

"I told you I bought something for me," you chuckled against her neck. "I want to buy some lingerie for my girlfriend. Sue me," she shook her head and pushed you away slightly. You pouted as she returned the clothes to the bag and picked up the jewelry box. "If you hate it, I can return it and get you something else," you added. She opened the box.

Her green eyes shun with unshed tears. It was a necklace with four gems - each was a birthstone representing her parents, brother, and boys. "I know we don't talk about your parents or Pietro a lot, but I wanted to get you something so they'll always be with you," you explained. "If I overstepped, I can-" she surged forward. You caught her body trembling slightly as she cried.

"It's perfect," she said. "So perfect." She sat back on the bed. "Can you put it on?" You took the necklace from her and placed it around her neck. She was quick to go to the bathroom to look at it. While she was gone, you sat on the bed. When she was done, she came out and sat on your lap. You got major deja vu when you told her about your Christmas plans. "I don't deserve you," she whispered, kissing your cheek. "Thank you for the gift, this trip, and everything you've done for me and the twins. What Billy asked you rang in your head - 'Are you going to marry my mom?' You squeezed her thighs, and she looked at you.

"I'm going to marry you one day, Wanda Maximoff," she let out a surprised squeak from the back of her throat. "One day, you'll never have to do anything, not worry about money or bills. You could sit at home all day for all I care."

"I'd get bored," she said. "I could never be a housewife." There was something about the way she said housewife that put a chill down your spine.

"You won't have to be one," you smiled, tickling her sides and spine. She shivered. "You could go back to school and become a teacher like you wanted to, be a writer or painter, or go to culinary school. Anything you want as long as you are mine," Wanda chuckled, moving her fingers through your hair and tilting your head back.

"You got this all figured out, huh?" She teased. "Do you think about marrying me a lot?" You weren't sure how to tell her you've thought about it since she ran into you at the coffee shop. Your silence must have been telling because she threw her head back in a laugh. "I haven't even said yes yet." Your jaw dropped slightly.

"You would say yes," you said slowly. She shrugged, got off your lap, and grabbed the bag.

"You'll have to ask."

"I'll buy the ring," she stopped on her way to the bathroom, threw a wink over her shoulder, and closed the door behind her. Groaning, you fell onto your back. That woman was going to be the death of you in the best possible way.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda maximoff imagine

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