#☾ . ･ﾟ . | ANSWER. : it takes a monster to hunt monsters.

[darkdemeter]

☾ phases collection issue #3 WORST FUR WEATHER

⚤ Wanda Maximoff x GN/Female/Male Werewolf!Reader SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI — MxF version pairing — FxF version pairing — unprotected sex — P in V sex — profanity — pet names "Lamb", "Sweetheart", "Hon", "Baby", etc — (male) reader receiving — slight possessive reader — Hydra agent! reader — enemies/lovers — I think that's it? ✎ 4.6k Wanda is sent on a mission to recover data about Hydra's next big operation. However, she'll meet the guard dog of the information she needs. Lucky for her, red happens to be a very eye-catching colour, and for the price of indulgence, you let her have her data.

✎ ↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS

────────────────────────

III.  Never seek to engage the attention of a wolf, be it in the calm amidst its frenzy or the horrors of its territorial obsession. For the lamb is incapable of warding off a hungry beast bound by its insatiable hunger and lust for violence. And wearing a tolling bell around one’s neck only attracts the monster. 

  Funny, how a golden bell is now adapted into a short, red dress.

  “Alright, Wanda. Just focus on your target, get the data and get out of there.” Natasha sounds urgent now, unlike before. She’d been calm before. Something’s changed in her tone, it’s beset by rising panic. 

  Wanda can’t help but be drawn into the whirlpool of fear herself. Her eyes dart around the lavish hall, eyeing each of the guests as if any one of them would engage her with a gun to her head or a knife to her gut. In reality, that possibility can very well happen. 

  “And whatever you do, stay away from—” Natasha’s cut out, the connection severed, a hand encircles around Wanda’s bare wrist. 

  “Care for a dance, little Lamb?” You spin her to face you. She’s dragged into the iron grip you possess, she’s powerless to the violent glow of amber. You watch her intently like a wolf on the hunt, lured in by the weakened state of your prey. A lone and lost lamb sent into the den of her enemy. A delightful treat. 

  Wanda stares upwards and right into the pressing stare you share, sharpened canines primed to tear into her, images of what someone - something - like you could do to her in the blink of an eye. And what she hates most of all is how complacent she is in your embrace, and how quickly she shrinks from escape, her bravery discouraged. 

  You lead her across the floor, entrapped in a dance, pinning her to you with no chance of running from you. Not that she’d get very far. The rhythm is paced stiffly, leaving her to rely on you to take the lead. 

  You twirl her, grasp firmly on her before you draw her back into you. “Quite the alluring dress. I’ve noticed quite a few eyes on you tonight,” you chuckle, “mine included.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” she answers, voice soft and silken with her accent.

 You click your tongue, scoldingly. “It’s wise to always be aware of what’s happening around you, Lamb.” Your tone drifts further into a darker undertone, words alluding to sinister intentions. “Else you will never see the beast that stalks behind.”

  “I’ll take that into consideration.” She tries to move, to free herself, but you don’t loosen your hold of her. Your hand remains on the small of her back, lips pulled into a wolfish grin, eyes laced with lustful hunger. 

  “Why the rush? Scared of me?”

  “M-maybe,” she gulps in truth, “as you said, I should be wary of what goes on around me. I know this story very well.”

  You cock your head to the side a little, interest peaked by the risen curve of your brow. “Oh? Do regale me.”

  “Loved ones advise her to not engage with the wolf. To keep her head and path straight for her Grandmother’s home.”

  “Unless she was served to the wolf on a platter,” you interject sharply just as you dip her, her spine curves back into the support of your arm, her green eyes flash with a mixture of intrigue and terror. How the sight of her beneath you arouses you, your core stirring with the familiar tingle of desire. 

  “But that’s not how the story goes.” She reprimands you behind the daggered end of a glare, eyes scornful in your offset course as you both encircle one another, bodies practically melded together and hands locked and bound to each other.

  You spin her again, leading her forward from behind. “The story serves as a cautionary tale only. Many have disregarded the warning labels and found their way off the path. But I myself, as a wolf, don’t waste time about it. I want you, little Lamb, not the gut full of rocks in the end.” 

  “And I want the data.” She’s upfront about it and you’ll applaud her for that. The amber hue of your eyes strikes a cold, mysterious flame to dwindle in her core and she finds her heart rate quickening.

  “And you wouldn’t make it three feet into the office. Not without someone like me getting you there.” 

  “Why help me?” she huffs with a quizzical, narrowed gaze.

  “The better.”

  None had so much as batted an eye in the wake of your saunter, Wanda practically glued to your side the entire time, a few of the guards snickering and mumbling to themselves. Wanda tried to strain her ears to overhear their silent glimpses and hidden, murmuring smirks to no avail. Whatever it was, it sure made your chest puff out with pride. 

  Down the hall, Wanda sees the doors of the office open under the command of your whim, gesturing to her to venture inside the dimly lit room. 

  Her eyes find yours, gaze bearing the resemblance of her hesitance. 

  “Well?” you say with a raised brow. Humming softly and affirmatively, she steps a heeled foot and crosses the threshold and immediately, she feels the air shift. No longer haunted by the eerie, warm glow of the hallway, now her skin is caressed by the looming darkness and its shadowy presence that grazes over her shoulder and moves towards the desk. 

  She follows you and then stops, still caught in the reverie of her disbelief as you tap away at the locked case that opens to reveal a laptop. The encrypted data, kept under strict guard, now rests open for her. 

  There has to be a catch. Her stare says as much with scrutiny, only you lay your palms flat in surrender. 

  “The data is all there for you to collect. No tricks, none of that.” Is it wise to believe you? Wanda is caught between a rock and a hard place either way. 

  To entertain or obey, she steps forward, retrieving from the slip inside her dress between her breasts, she brings to light the usb drive. Your eyes roll between the action and device, whistling lowly to yourself. 

  Wanda has to ignore the way her skin grows hot and flushed under your eyes that watch her. Bending low, she inserts the drive in and begins to download the data and provides you with a more than satisfying view from behind. You hear her sighing quietly to herself when a red, transparent box indicating an error flashes onto the screen. Of course the security system would be triggered. 

  “No tricks, huh?” she chastises with a huff only to feel the heated scape of your front bend, stretching over her beck as you lean forward, long arms caging her below you. She watches silently, tongue darting out between her lips as she admires your fingers work nimbly and precisely against the keys, overriding the error and allowing the drive to continue downloading. 

  “Protection. I’m sure you understand.”

  FEMALE

  “Looks like that download will take a while,” you remark coolly. Wanda now lacks the pressure of your stature, breasts pushed firmly against her back she is left both disappointed and relieved. Her eyes remain trained on the laptop screen despite the sixth sense that your eyes watch her intently, or rather, the lovely view she provides from behind. 

  It’s hard to explain to her rational mind but there’s something about you that creeps Wanda with a prickling notion that no matter what, the trail of your gaze never seems to leave her; at least not for long. Your words circle back into her mind. The mention that many eyes had been on her tonight, yours included, she wonders if the wolf has become animalistically smitten with her. Bewitched by her little red dress. 

  Curious of where exactly you lingered, she turns her sights behind her, following the way you peer down at her, about a foot or so from her, she turns to face you. 

  “Something you like, Wolf?” She doesn’t grasp the identity of this newfound courage, incapable of finding its unknown source. All she does know is that her question has piqued your interest and engaged your merriment. 

  “Maybe,” you answer smoothly with a click of your tongue that runs the lap over your teeth. A temptress that you want to devour whole heartedly, to satiate your wolfish appetite. 

  Hands musing into the slit of your pant pockets, you bask silently at the sight of her, her form arching ever so slightly backwards and resting her weight in her arms. The familiar threading of tightness of your core is enough to alert you to your blooming desire. 

  You saunter towards her, almost stalking over to her, she watches you as her eyes travel up and down. 

  “You ever been with another girl before, Sweetheart?”

  Biting down into her lip, she shakes her head and her chin dips low, hiding her flustered visage. “You wanna try it?”

  A very bold move on your part. You’ve trapped her against the desk, arms caging her on either side she feels her breath become locked in her lungs. A very tempting offer you give her, but one she is unsure about, her lips part to form the words only to fall silent. 

  “Don’t worry, little Lamb. You’re in very good hands, I promise. Think about it like this: I'm all the better to please you...”

  Your lips blaze a flaming trail along her neck and collarbone, each planted seed of lust leaves a shivering breath in its wake. Wanda lets you slip onto your knees and sensing what exactly you’re getting at, she leans further back, practically sitting on the desk as you saddle between her legs. Your teeth nip and graze, lips caressing softly the soft tissue of her inner thighs until her hand strikes out, latching hold of any amount of your hair she can grab. 

  “Shh,” you usher with a whisper, “fuck, you smell delicious.” Your breath is hot, far too hot, it sears her wanting core, her thong already soaked beyond any reconciliation that it may dry shortly. 

  Your tongue laps at her through the dark fabric, suckling on it to taste her juices that stain them and you groan deeply, the sound that of a feral animal. 

  Her hand in your hair grips tighter and tugs at your roots. 

  She whimpers as you dance your tongue, teasing her folds through her tongue before using the very muscle to push aside the flimsy, damp fabric and trace the moist slit of her clenching pussy. Moaning softly, her hips thrust forward. 

  The ribbony tug of her core enlightens her, bringing about an airy flow to what she feels, her head leans back and her legs open wider for you, your hands snake around the seam of dress and skin and pull her in that little bit closer.

  “M-more! Please, more!” she exhales loudly, breathlessly. You slide your tongue between her folds, massaging her spongy walls that pulse around it, her mewls and voice growing weaker and more feral with each lashing you inflict in her cunt. Clearly, her first time is one she’ll remember. Nuzzling the upper flat of your tongue presses to her clit and soothes it, rolling and dragging, she all but lurches forward slightly at the brink of her orgasm. 

  “Fuck– fuck! I’m cumming!” 

  She mutters a thousand more curses that sound like wistful prayers to your ears, hungrily devouring her release with a guttural moan that shakes the foundation of her final resolve. She barely catches herself slipping further back across the desk, the case and laptop at this point a forgotten element. 

  Pulling your head away - after thoroughly cleaning her slick, satisfied pussy - you stand tall and straight, looming over her like a dark, stormy cloud. The brilliance of her green eyes is shrouded in the darkness of your shadow, but the same hunger for more ever resides presently. 

  Your hand soon replaces the loss of your mouth and she caves to your will, splayed out for your touch to sate her newfound desire. 

  “I want more… that was…”

  “Exquisite?” you chime with a hum and she nods. No other word can possibly describe it so perfectly. She feels your long, toned fingers rub her up and down, smearing what little juices you left behind and toying with her delicate pearl, arousal buzzes to life at the mere grazing of your thumb. 

  You’re closer to her now, the scent of your powerful cologne overpowers her senses, drowning her with fulfilling contentment. Hands grappling hold of your arms, she claws her way deeply that you’re quite impressed with the level of strength she possesses. 

  Slowly, you insert two fingers and curl and she buckles under the pressure. A scream is halfway tearing through her throat but she bites into her lip to keep the volume minimal. 

  “Going to keep quiet, huh?” you tease and unfurl your fingers before repeating the pattern over and over, each time, going deeper. “Don’t want the guards out there hearing what I’m doing to you?”

  She doesn’t answer, unsure if this is a trick question or not, but she can’t find it within herself to further embarrass herself. 

  You insert a third and watch her watch contort. She whimpers, the sound ringing in your ears like a humming whistle, she rolls her hips in great desperation whilst your thumb firmly circles her clit, feeling the sensitive heat from her core. 

  “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” The line of your lips caress the structure of her temple, her eyes scrunch closed. Her mouth falls agape. 

  “W-Wolf…” Her sigh is a breath of fresh air to the clarity of your insane mind. You thrust your fingers harder and faster, the squelch of her cunt and the filthy sounds of her voice fill the room’s void with something beautiful. A harmonic symphony you’re drawn to, committing it to memory for now. 

  “Yeah, Lamb?”

  “I– shit, oh my— I’m gonna…” 

  You hum in approval and with a few more powerful thrusts, the walls of her cunt shrink around your fingers in a fight to keep you. Letting her ride out her orgasm on your fingers, she moves erratically until she stops, panting heavily and her shoulders shoving down.

  “Good, little Lamb,” you praise gently, “Good girl.” 

  Lips hovering against each other, the gap is sealed with a heated kiss, tongues weaving in post-euphoria passion that can easily set the world ablaze. 

  Who knew that fucking your enemy could be so thrilling?

  “What about you?” she asks, voice still shaken. “The drive is almost done. Let’s just say… you’ll owe me a little something next time.”

  “How do you know if we’ll meet again?”

  You flash her a cheeky wink. “I have my ways, Lamb.”

  MALE

  “Looks like that download will take a while,” you remark coolly. Your chest leaves the warmed crest of her back, leaving Wanda unbearably cold and wanting. She almost shivers at the loss of contact. She hears you shuffle back and although she initially tries to ignore the way your eyes linger on her, coasting over the view she’s now conscious of giving you, she freezes. 

  It’s hard to explain to her rational mind but there’s something about you that creeps Wanda with a prickling notion that no matter what, the trail of your gaze never seems to leave her; at least not for long. Your words circle back into her mind. The mention that many eyes had been on her tonight, yours included, she wonders if the wolf has become animalistically smitten with her. Bewitched by her little red dress. 

  Her lips part with a silent, suppressed moan at the noise from behind, your groan deep and husky and laced with desire. She dares to take a peek over her shoulder, following the length of her still bent body until her eyes find yours, seeing you seated in one of the mahogany leather chairs opposing the desk. 

  Clearly, you were enjoying the curve of her arse and the lacy thong that’s now soaked with her arousal. She turns to face you now, arms pressed back and her hands grip the desk’s edge, crossing one ankle over the other, you take in the exposure of her shapely legs before the cut off of the dress that rides across the high of her thighs.

  For a moment that carries far too long to not be labelled as eternity, you both just stare at each other in silence, a thick air of tension traces the distance between you both, sharing looks of deep, dark-rooted wanton for the other. 

  You pat your thigh expectantly, legs spread with the uncaring nature of your growing bulge that’s restrained by the confines of your dress pants. It's a command. Not a request. Directed by the cause of that mystique, she’s drawn to you like a moth to the flame, she saunters towards you with a gentle slander of her heels that rap over the floorboards one at a time. 

  All the while, you scan her up and down until she stands between your legs. 

  “My, my, the little Lamb can’t help but be allured by the Wolf,” you chuckle darkly. Biting deep into the plump flesh of her lip, she shakes her head and her chin bows. 

  “No…”

  Despite your invitation, she lowers to her knees, resting back on her legs as her hands run up the length of black fabric and towards your belt. Your throat contorts with an amused hum, brow quirked with analysis to her next move, her eyes searching for your approval; which you give along with a nod. 

  “What a pretty mouth you have.” You grin, toothy and wide, canines sharp and pronounced. She unbuckles the leather strap and tugs loose the fly of your pants and you groan as she gently palms your erected cock through your boxers.

  “The better to take you with.” She blushes deeply, her indulgence inwards to the fantasy you play out together. 

  Releasing your cock from your boxers, you breathe a sigh of relief, tip oozing with beads of precum and your shaft stiffly standing. Her tongue languidly traces the definition of your cock, up and down as she prolongs her eye contact, moaning softly as her tongue and lips tease your sensitive, bulbous tip. Your hips buck instinctively towards where your pleasure derives from, chasing after that fix aggressively. 

  You hiss, jaw clenched to the brink that you may very well break it,and Wanda continues to drag her tongue up and down, over you tip again and again, lapping long, slow strips and gathering the beady droplets along the flat of her sinful muscle that works you; hot breath beating down on you. You swear you almost fucking whimper like a maturing juvenile, with little control over your body. 

 “The Big Bad Wolf,” she whispers and takes the first third of your member, hollowing her cheeks and forcing your length further and further down. She gags and her throat grips tightly, causing you to groan. Your claws bite into the expensive leather with little care for its maintenance. Not when you have the prettiest fucking lamb on her knees before you, sucking your dick. 

  “Fuck, Baby,” you sigh heavily, “Yeah… yeah, let me see that mouth work.” Your lungs are on fire, heart pounding a thousand beats per minute. Her tongue swirls around you and she moans deeply, whining in resistance when her own mouth tries to work against her, refusing to take anymore of you without a fight. 

  So you decide you’ll give her a helping hand. A little nudge. 

  You extend a hand forward and lace your fingers into the locks of her fiery, brown hair, curling well to the roots and scrunch harshly. She winces and her green eyes are glazed with a watery curtain, fresh with hot tears. Showing an ounce of mercy - and that is all you’re capable and willing to give - you start slow in guiding her head up and down, your cock sinking back and forth in her mouth, gags and muffled moans stifled by the cutoff of oxygen. 

  “F-fuck yeah—” you growl lowly. Your head tilts back for a moment and your hips snap hard, forcing her to take the entirety of your cock down her tight throat with a much louder moan, out of shocking resistance or eager obedience.

  “Shit, Lamb… m-mmm…” She’s graduated from needing your hand and it falls lax, letting her pace herself and she continues the rhythm you set prior, her saliva gathers down to the base of your groin and your balls swell with your impending orgasm.

  You grin at the thought of her drinking your seedy load, face and chest covered with you. Eyes finding the screen of the laptop, you cannot help the haughty chuckle. It looks like you’ll have more than enough time to fully indulge yourself in your new company. 

  You further encourage her, voice laced with your evident loss of composure, she knows you near the end of your leash. With a few more thrusts, you sink her head down and your hot load shoots down the tunnel of her throat, she groans in pleasure as she sucks you down, mouth drinking everything you’re giving her. 

  A poor loss that you wouldn’t get to see her painted with your cum, but with any luck, you’ll get a chance further down the line. Your other hand runs through your hair, rolling it back into its refined form and Wanda pulls off, her lips drenched with a mixture of fluids, the sight marks your face with a darkened smirk. 

  “C’mon, Red,” you say with a lulling drawl.  Her eyes are dazed in the land of pleasured confusion, she takes your hand as if taking the guiding hand of an angel, knowing little of her actual fate. She’s led to straddle you, her core soaking down the front of your vest and your much satisfied cock that stands at attention once again.

  “W-we… we shouldn’t…”

  “We should.” You peck her lips, tasting yourself on her and you delve your teeth to take your bottom lip between them. 

  “I’m gonna take you for a little ride.”

  One hand stabilises her at her hip, her hands finding purchase on either the curves of your shoulder and in the locks of your hair, threading them to grapple on, your other hand curls the thin fabric of her thong and drags it aside. 

  Your tip kisses her entrance and she mewls, head bowing into the crook of your neck. How she’d make the perfect little mate for you. 

  Her hips roll down and forward, her breath a quivering tempo as the sheer size of you between her legs and she gasps, feeling you stretch her walls wide out. For a second she believes you’ve split her in two and her whimpers are buried in the graveyard of your shoulder, nestled there while you sheathe yourself into her cunt, inch by inch until you finally bottom out with a pleased sigh. 

  ‘Fuck, you’re so big…’

  ‘All the better to fuck you hard.’

    Just as you promised, you deliver. Picking up into a more suited pace, you piston in and out, the sound of skin meeting skin, the squelching of your combined juices and fabric rustling against fabric; breaths colliding in each other’s orbit. 

  Soon enough, she garners her steadiness and bounces her hips, far more eager to ride you to her climax, she moans deeply and curses under her breath, breasts constricted by the tight bust of her dress. 

  As much as you'd like to rip it off her, you understand she has a mission to complete and you don’t favour anyone’s eyes lingering on her anymore, gauging to see if they have a single chance. 

  Wanda Maximoff is yours for the taking, and you’ll fuck that notion into her until she understands it.

  “I-I’m cum—” 

  “Give it to me, Baby. Come on– give it to me,” you pant, hissing blissfully. You’re lost in the haze of your lust, like you’re in the middle of a hunt, it excites you greatly and the flow of your blood is poisoned by the hit of your predatory drive. 

  Her walls squeeze your stiff, pulsing cock, eliciting from you both sounds you’d never imagine possible, almost pornographic, your lips trace the contour of her exposed shoulder and collarbone, the thought to leave a few marks here and there not going unnoticed by your conscience. 

  Her body arches back and you truly see the magnitude of her beauty, breasts though snug in their place, bounce erratically to the rapid pounding of your cock kissing her cervix, her nails scratch and dig at the seams of your jacket, and you know right then that you want this woman at your side. 

  You’ll kill all the Avengers if you must, you’ll take down Hydra from the inside if needs be. But you’ll be damned to walk this earth alone or with any other that isn’t her. 

  “Sh-shit! I’m cumming!” she cries out, voice high and pitchy. Her walls are a vice around you, pulling you in without mercy and giving no intent to make it easy to withdraw, her orgasm hitting you.

  “Yeah, yeah– that—” you pause, hips speeding up as the second dose of your own release rises, you seize hold of her hips with far more tenacity than before. 

  She spurs you in, muttering over and over, chanting to keep going. To not stop, to keep hitting her right there, and you oblige. With a deep grunt, followed by a low, long noted moan, you cum. Your seed paints her walls and the swell of your knot ties her to you. 

  When she tries to pull off, you hold her still. “You’re not going anywhere for a while, Hon,” you say. When she moves again, her eyes widen, green hues shining in the light from the window, and her delicious lips form into an understanding ‘o’ shape. 

  Slowly and out of small necessity, your hips brush back and forth against each other, mimicking the more desperate action you’d shared before. 

  “Your data awaits you,” you coo with a chuckle, knowing she has no choice but to wait it out.

  Glancing over her shoulder to see the completed task of the drive, she turns her eyes back to you. 

  “How long does…” Eyes drifting down to where you’re connected, you lean back, arms stretching to rest your hands behind your head with a smirk.

  “We’ve got about an hour.”

—

  Wanda walks down the cobblestone lane, her body still enduring the aftermath of your erotic coupling, the car waiting out front of her. She dreads to see the sceptical glares of whoever came to her rescue, she pulls her coat over herself more to hide the potential discovery of her quivering form as she then enters the car.

  But not before turning to gaze over the curve of her shoulder, skimming the bite dark, green eyes finding yours; amber cheekily flaunting the alluring power as you bid her a gesture of farewell.

  She sighs as the car begins to drive off into the night, Sam behind the wheel, he concentrates on the road, meanwhile, Natasha’s eyes find Wanda’s in the rearview. 

  “Did you get the data?”

  “Right here.” Wanda passes the drive over and Natasha takes it, looking it over in the palm of her hand. 

  That’s when Sam sighs heavily, nose wrinkling. “What smells like dog?”

@alexawynters @alyciaddict @simpforlizzie @literaturedog @maladaptive-daydreamz