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darkdemeter · 7 months ago

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☾ phases collection issue #4 IN THE HEAT OF HER MOMENT

⚤ Wanda Maximoff x GN/Female/Male Mafia!Werewolf!Reader SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI — MxF version pairing — FxF version pairing — unprotected sex — mutual oral receiving — P in V sex — knotting — marking —profanity — pet names: Lamb, Mate, Baby, etc — established relationship — minor depiction of mafia activity — married couple fluff and love — reader is just a softie for Wanda — I think that's it? ✎ 3.1k Happily married to the woman and mate of your dreams, where else to spend your honeymoon as newlyweds than the stunning resort beaches in the tropical islands. But first, you and Wanda have to take care of some heat.

✎ a note from the author, Bit of a mafia au because I just can't escape it, and I wanted to write some more mafia wandawolf.

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

IV. What is a mated life but the promise of commitment? A wolf’s life can oftentimes be lonesome and hollow, with no special one to turn to. And it’s far more unlikely that the pairing between two opposites could be so right. With a mate for the wolf to call their own, special needs are required to be met, till death and beyond you cannot part.

If there is one way to describe Wanda, it’s that she’s needy. Perfectly needy. After landing in the tropical retreat of your private island, a treat for your wife, you’d taken swiftly to the villa in order to settle her eagerness to consummate your marriage. Not that this will be the first time you’ve both had sex, far from it. Back in your estate towards the city it wouldn’t be put past you both to have thoroughly broken in every room.

As evidently showing, you both were quite the couple. How Wanda hasn’t mothered several litters by now? Well, your parents and their old schooled tenants decreed that you both be married first before you both go siring a dozen or so pups to grow the family.

Almost a year later after that little sit down, here you are, closing the door to the villa with Mrs. L/N sauntering inside, hands smoothing down the curves of her body and her fitted, white gown.

You’ve barely begun loosening the collar of your shirt when she’s on you, pulling you in by the lapel of your jacket into a heated, passionate kiss, one of many you have already shared and will continue to. Seeking the comforting weight of her in the palms of your hands, you seek out her hips, massaging slowly with a low groan she melds with a moan of her own.

Her heels clatter to the polished floorboard hurriedly, meanwhile, her slender hands comb through your hair, dishevelling its tidiness and down your front, she practically is pawing you to remove your clothing.

“Dammit, Lamb,” you chuckle against her mouth. She slips her tongue past your teeth, tongues wrestling at the behest of her challenge.

“I need you,” she sighs into the kiss breathlessly.

Ring adorned fingers press into her hips firmly at her pleaful cry. “I know, darling. I know.” Your lips move to caress the cute curve of her jawline, taking care with every inch of her precious skin down her neck, she leans into you as she tries to capture your lips once more.

“Sure you don’t want to pay a visit to the beach?”

Shaking her head, she’s pulling you towards the loft’s staircase. “Tomorrow. Right now, I want you.”

“No complaining whatsoever,” you retort with a cheeky wink, following her insistent lead.

She giggles as she begins to race up the stairs with you close at her heel, the ghost of your presence haunting her lovingly, no sooner do you both reach the upper floor do you sweep your wife into your arms and she playfully shrieks in surprise. You hoist her up and spin, her arms encircle around you tightly, your embrace one of comfort and assured strength.

A promise, just as the gold around your fingers, that you’ll be for each other. Protect each other. You meet with another kiss, slower but no less passionate.

The glimmer of gold suits her finger. For you, it’s a precious addition that pales the rest across the bottom of your knuckles.

You carry Wanda over to the empty bed and lay her down, her hair fans around her with a cherishing, silvery-blonde halo she’d dyed before the wedding, and a smile that could warm the coldest days of winter and cure you of any level of anger. Wanda Maximoff has been a very influential figure in your life from day one.

From first meeting her, circumstances unlikely, you’d always felt your chest become alight with a flutter you always dreaded the absence of when she was gone.

And the more she visited, the more you experienced that flutter in your chest that came to bloom throughout your entire body and soul. But also the more her mere visits left a deep and dark burrow of void in your heart. At some point or another - and you were sure it occurred after a bit too much in the indulgence of whiskey and meeting with the Stark and Barnes Families to discuss business - you realise that Wanda is meant to be with you. No matter who else you met, they never gave you that same feeling.

Wanda was your destined mate. As frightful as it was, her rejection had been nothing but a case of anxiety and doubtful, nightmarish thoughts. Because the moment you asked her under the stars and full moon if she’d be your girl, her happy shrieks that filled the entirety of Central Park confirming your deepest wish, you became whole.

She blinks at you. Curiosity fills her beautifully serene and creamy jade hues that glow in the setting sun’s light. “What is it, Wolfie?”

You shake your head at the memories that consume you. You shower her with a toothy grin she cannot help but reciprocate.

“You’re just so beautiful.”

“Kiss me…”

Mouths connecting with a symphony of low groans and purring moans, your bodies meld together, sliding against each other as your hands explore each other, slowly peeling away the layers of formality, discarding them to the floor until the two of you were bare before the other.

FEMALE

She whispers your name across the skin of your neck, hands running over inked landscape, each single mile holding a memory to her, just as you do for her. One hand comes between the two of you to stroke her, tender and affectionately attentive, she curls into you with a pleased whine.

“Yes, Wolf,” she coos softly, “just like that.”

You work her gently at first, soon growing a bit firmer with rubbing, circling her clit that makes her spine arch and her toes curl.

You slide your middle finger into her tight pussy that clenches around it, her heat pulsing that it makes you sigh with a chuckle.

“Baby, you’re soaking.”

She hides her face in the crook of your neck with a pout, mumbling something amidst her pampering of kisses along your shoulder. You bend and curve your finger, in and out, in and out until she pants quietly to the shell of your ear, her nails embedding crescents into the muscle of your shoulders.

She begs you for more, encouraging you that she can take more. Obliging your mate, you slip two more fingers inside and begin to ever so faintly stretch her walls.

She pushes herself into you, soft gasps on the tip of her tongue and entangled in finery of pleasures. You curl your fingers inside her, pushing them further and to the knuckle. Her hands run down your sides, her touch is feathery, taking in every detail that maps your body, every mark, scar and tattooed line until she reaches the small of your back.

“R-right there,” she winces blissfully, hips abrupt in their suddenness to meet your thrusting fingers. Her release a coiling rubber band that’s bound to snap at an instant. As you perform on her, she reaches one of her own hands down, fingertips stroking along your equally sickened folds. “A-ah… hah,” you grin, and so cutely she admits to herself, shyly.

“I want to please my wife as well,” she says with a light tune. Her thumb rolls over your clit smearing the aroused juices of your pussy and your hips jerk again. Her hand cups you and she begins to massage her middle and ring finger against your entrance and then slips them inside, working to match your pace.

Rocking into the motion of the other, the rising of your releases are woven together, her sounds alone to get you off; her fingers only aided with hastefulness.

A series of intermingling moans shatter to the air, breaking the oath of stillness to the flood of your orgasms. You hot breath fans over her face and she smiles wistfully, her chest rising and breasts pushing to yours, the connection bringing a sense of electricity between you.

Her legs wrap around you the moment your fingers slide back inside her cunt, your claws bringing a more daring edge that leaves her utterly breathless in her lungs. “Y-yes! More, more! Just like that.”

Her eyes roll back and her dark lashes flutter erratically, her voice strangled by her moans and her body becomes tense, hips rolling into the thrusts of your fingers before her mouth flies open with a pleasured cry. Barely over the first and already she is taken hold by her second wave.

A moment of pure stillness and then immediate relaxation, her body finds itself floating high in the clouds as the hot, white flash consumes her. Your nose finds the juncture of her neck and your canines graze the delicate spot and she leans her chin to the side, providing more access for your leisure.

“I love you,” she gasps again and again. You answer, voice a husky octave, “I love you too.”

Your teeth break the surface of her skin and she winces, the riding of her high tunes out the sliver of pain, only to find her body unnaturally calmed by you. Your scent becomes stronger to her senses, the aroma of your expensive cologne is drowned out by the natural tranquillity of your natural smell; that of the pine forests, heavily wooded and hidden, the wild valleys of flowers and the crispness of freshly fallen snow.

Everything under her skin is warmed like nothing before. It’s not the same as a coat keeping out the cold, or feeling another’s warm skin against her. It is a feeling that envelops her on the inside like a warm, assuring blanket. A haven that guarantees she’ll be safe.

And then the coolness of stars line her vision. Something bright and full floods her and she thinks she’s floating in the dawning nighttime sky. Her stomach is taken over by a billion flutters.

“How do you feel, Lamb?” you ask and press your forehead to hers. “Breathe for me. That’s it, in and out. Deep and slow… you okay?”

“I feel… amazing.” Her dazed eyes find yours in the darkness that almost hides you completely. Her fingers brush aside the straying locks of hair hanging over your face.

“The best I’ve ever felt.”

“You’re gonna feel like that for quite a while,” you say. Chuckling, you steal a quick kiss from her, rolling over until she lays on top of you, hands holding her hips to you.

“I know this must be a strange question,” she begins hesitantly, but your hum of curiosity nudges her to continue. “Do you have a knot?”

“I do… as a wolf.”

“Then… maybe we could try?”

MALE

“Yes, Wolf,” she coos softly, “just like that.”

You work her gently at first, soon growing a bit firmer with rubbing, circling her clit that makes her spine arch and her toes curl.

You slide your middle finger into her tight pussy that clenches around it, her heat pulsing that it makes you sigh with a chuckle.

“Baby, you’re soaking.”

She begs you for more, encouraging you that she can take more. Obliging your mate, you slip two more fingers inside and begin to ever so faintly stretch her walls, to get her ready to accommodate your cock that now stands hardened between her legs.

As you perform on her, she reaches one of her own hands down, fingertips stroking over your length and your hips jerk. “A-ah… hah,” you grin, and so cutely she admits to herself, shyly.

“I want to please my husband as well,” she says with a light tune. Her thumb rolls over your tip, smearing the beads of precum down the base, your hips jerk again. Her hand wraps around you and begins to massage and carefully tug, working to match your pace.

Rocking into the motion of the other, the rising of your releases are woven together, however before she has a chance to pull your orgasm from you, you stop her with a tut of your tongue. Her eyes shine with that concern, brows furrowing.

“I wanna be inside you for that,” you breathe in reply, “I would like to finally experience that first, if you don’t mind.”

She smiles at you. “Of course.”

Nodding and still grinning, you usher her to her first climax of the honeymoon period. Her eyes roll back and her dark lashes flutter erratically, her voice strangled by her moans and her body becomes tense, hips rolling into the thrusts of your fingers before her mouth flies open with a pleasured cry.

A moment of pure stillness and then immediate relaxation, her body finds itself floating high in the clouds as the hot, white flash consumes her.

“So fucking wet, my little Mate.” Her slickness pools around the knuckles of your fingers, the whisper of her juices gushing from her tight hole as you withdraw paint a beautiful picture. You raise your fingers to your lips and allow your tongue to taste her, a hum of approval as your eyes shimmer in the setting darkness.

“You taste good, Lamb.”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip with a bashful giggle followed by a moan of your name. Your lips part and she can taste herself on your tongue, you steady your weight above her with one hand beside her, the other guides your throbbing cock to her entrance.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” With her assurance you press your waist forward and with a gasp, she spreads her legs wider as you push inside her. Walls wrapping around you, inch by inch, you succumb to the radiant heat of her cunt around you. For a moment you find yourself still.

Her tongue surrenders to you with the first initiated thrust, lost to the small noise creeping up the back of her throat and you nip her bottom lip playfully. Your cock strikes her, kissing her cervix until she’s chanting your name like a prayer, and you begin to drive more force behind it. Skin meeting against skin in a coursing pattern fills the room, growing louder with each thrust becoming harder and faster, you grunt and groan lowly.

“I love you,” she gasps again and again. You answer, voice a husky octave, “I love you too.”

“Cum inside me. P-please… cum in–side me.”

To hear her talk so desperately sends your wolf brain into overdrive, your canines graze the juncture of her neck and she, accepting of your long-awaited mark, cranes her neck to the side.

“Cum with me, little Lamb. Come on, you can do it,” you pant hotly, “cum for me.”

Her back arches off the bed and your legs wrap over your waist, hugging you closer as her walls clench around you like a vice. A howl passes a suppressed groan in your chest, eyes burning brightly of amber, her orgasm being the last straw for you. Your cock twitches and explodes, releasing your seed to paint her walls as you practically rut into her with mad intent.

And then the coolness of stars line her vision. Something bright and full floods her and she thinks she’s floating in the dawning nighttime sky. Her stomach is taken over by a billion flutters.

You slow the grind of your hips to a pause and pull your teeth away from the mark, thumb wiping over it and her body jolts at the action, a reasonable reaction.

“How do you feel, Lamb?” you ask and press your forehead to hers. “Breathe for me. That’s it, in and out. Deep and slow… you okay?”

“I feel… amazing.” Her dazed eyes find yours in the darkness that almost hides you completely. Her fingers brush aside the straying locks of hair hanging over your face.

“The best I’ve ever felt.”

“You’re gonna feel like that for quite a while,” you say. Chuckling, you steal a quick kiss from her, rolling over until she lays on top of you, hands holding her hips to you; your knot strict in its place inside her pussy.

“So once the knot goes down, I’m thinking we could try…”

—

The next morning would have been peaceful. Should have been peaceful. It was your fucking honeymoon after all. However, your phone interrupts the moment at the brink of dawn, the sun painting the sky with vivid pinks, purples and a colourful bow of deep orange.

You groan, hand fumbling aimlessly on the nightstand for the irritating noise. Finding the device, you clench it on your iron grip and raise the voice on the other end to your ear with a less than pleased huff.

“The fuck you want?”

By your side, Wanda stirs. Her eyes peek open, the bare minimum of the sunlight gracing her angelic face, still showering her with comforting darkness, your arm that’s around her assuringly pulls her to your side, herskin melting under the contact with yours.

“Boss,” Sam says with relief, “I know it’s—”

You growl deeply into the speaker, “My honeymoon. So this better be good.”

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