Loose Tongues
SUMMARY: Wanda is a demon, and you're an overworked office worker. She's a little obsessed with you.
TAGS: 18+only, wanda x reader, demon!wanda, established relationship, tail sex, oral, fingering, body morph, for a demon porn fanfiction wanda and reader have a healthy relationship ngl
AN: i tried to make it filthy (since it is a demon porn fic) but im afraid my obsession with love bombing wanda is terminal. enjoy freaks. let me know your thoughts <3
There is much to be said about Wanda's fascination with the little mortal she's been haunting, but at the same time, none at all. See, the mortal is as plain and as ordinary as they go. This one isn't even as innocent as what her favorite types to corrupt, nor are they as depraved as the ones Wanda likes to terrorize.
This plainness used to be a sore spot for Wanda. This inexplicable need to always be near them and if she's not, to make sure that they are thinking of her. A frustration that had her dissatisfied until they are tangled in bed and breathing each other's air.
With that said, maybe it wasn't as bad as Wanda thinks it is. Y/N, if nothing else, is a good lover, anyway. Who should be home any time now.
And like clockwork, the front door creaks open — something that Wanda has insisted that you shouldn't fix — and your all too familiar steps echo around the hallway. Wanda stands up, smoothing down her chosen dress for the day, and goes out to greet you.
"I'm home," you call out, tugging off your shoes, aware of Wanda's presence in front of you but unaware of what she's greeting you with.
She patiently watches you with a saint-like smile on her lips.
"Wanda?" you look up, biting down a scream and chucking your shoes at Wanda's hovering form.
There is a minute of pure silence where you both stare at each other, and this is one of Wanda's favorite parts of loving you, before you start scolding her for her pranks.
"You ought to stop scaring me!" you berate her, "what if I die of a heart attack, huh?"
"How was my impression of Sadako, darling? I had to dye my hair black."
"Wanda Maximoff!"
"Damn, full names," Wanda laughs, waving away the white dress and returning to her usual outfit around you which consists of your dinosaur boxers and oversized college club shirt. She floats towards you, curling her body on your shoulders. "How was your day, my love?"
You huff in reply, deciding to ignore Wanda in retaliation. You really should ban her from going through your friend's horror films collection in the garage.
Wanda wraps her tail on your arm, loose at first before tightening just slightly, letting the tip caress your collarbones and neck.
Still, you do your best to suppress a shiver. Instead, you go to the kitchen and reheat your leftover meal.
"You can't ignore me forever," Wanda grits out. She hates getting ignored and she hates that you know she hates it. Making silent treatment your go to punishment when she acts out.
"Can't I, darling?" you ask in return.
Wanda uncurls herself from your torso and lands down on her feet behind you, crowding you against the kitchen counter. She morphs her body to be taller than you, not her real demon height, but just a few inches more, so that when she slots her hips on your ass, you're forced to stand on your tiptoes.
The action forces out a filthy moan from your throat. You feel Wanda's hand guiding your upper body to rest on the counter and you let her until your cheek's pressed against the cool tile.
As you can feel her smooth tail snaking below your pencil skirt, you're left wondering if you should be thanking yourself that you've decided to wear the skirt or not. Once you feel the hard end reach your, admittedly already soaked underwear, wetness gushes out of you.
A manic grin spreads on her lips when Wanda hears the squelch of your soaked underwear and feels the wetness coat her tail. She wills it to grow thicker and harder, letting the underside of her tail rest against the shape of your cunt. "Fuck yourself on my tail, baby," she pants against your ear.
Any thoughts of ignoring the infuriating demon flows out of your mind the second she makes contact against your clit. You give a few tentative thrusts against the appendage between your legs. After a while, you find a good rhythm — thrusting your hips and grinding down on Wanda's tail when it reaches your clit.
You don't think you'd ever cum from just, essentially, dry humping, but you also never thought you'd get yourself a demon wrapped around your little finger anyway.
Wanda leans back and grabs your hips with both hands, effectively stopping all of your movements. Her tail probes the inside of your pussy through your panties.
The tip can only go in for maybe an inch or less, give or take, but it's honestly the thought of what Wanda is doing with her damn tail on your cunt is all it takes to make your hips buck and your knees to feel like jelly.
A few more thrusts, the sound of the demon's heavy breaths, and you're arching your back against the counter. Your orgasm rips through you unexpectedly, and you're left panting, sagging against the tile. If Wanda wasn't holding you, you're sure to have slid down to the floor with how boneless you feel.
Once you've regained your breathing, you turn a bit to look at Wanda, who's uncharacteristically quiet. You're used to her cocky and arrogant self when she successfully fucks you in the most depraved way she can think of, especially since it's also in her nature to be the one who gets fucked to oblivion. Succubus things, you suppose.
You're surprised to see her half transformed into her demon form — dark horns sprouting from the base of her hairline, what used to be the white of her eyes are turned midnight black with blood red pupils slitted like a cat's, and since she's panting, you have a full frontal view of her protruding fangs.
You're bad at horror, in any form of medium, but Wanda, in her half or full demonic form, has never made you afraid. It is a fact about yourself that you've long decided not to think too deeply about. Even when you first met her, back when Darcy convinced your drunk ass to help her prove if the ritual that she paid an exorbitant amount of money for, can really summon a demon or not.
For some unknown reason, Wanda has always fascinated you. Eight foot tall with long curved horns, bat-like wings, and a swishing tail equipped with a razor-sharp tip. "Who dares summon me?" her mouth was not moving, but you hear her booming voice inside your skull. A thick accent that you can't place.
You can't keep your eyes off of the towering demon trapped in the summoning circle, but at the corner of your peripheral vision, you can see Darcy vibrating in excitement.
You blink the memory away, finally feeling settled enough to push against the counter and stand on your feet with Wanda still trapped in her unresponsive stupor behind you. You can feel your panties uncomfortably sticking to your skin, the smell of sex lingering in the air.
After a few more seconds, Wanda subtly shakes her head before leaning down to nose at the back of your neck, mumbling against your warm skin, "You are a wonder."
Wanda, for all her cruelty and sadistic nature as a demon from hell, is surprisingly a very sweet lover. She's honest to god, the best partner you've ever had the pleasure of loving. Sweet, caring, gentle. She treats you like you're made of something precious, so at odds with the truth that her job is to punish sinners and to tempt mortals into depravity.
You lean against her sturdy body, tilting your head to the side to give her more access to your neck. "So good for me." You feel her scrape her fangs against your pulse point. The only warning you get is her licking the area before she sinks her teeth in, moaning. You're sure you hear her whisper, "mine."
When she pulls away from the crook of your neck, she doesn't lick the wound clean to heal it. It would form into a nasty bruise later, and you won't admit it, but you'd wear it proudly.
You turn around to face Wanda, your hands skirting at the edge of her shirt. You mindlessly grope at her abs.
Wanda cups your cheek with her hands, careful not to nick your skin with her claws. You turn your head a little to kiss her palm before you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her down to your eye level.
It's hard to kiss her like this, when she's got her mouth full of sharp rows of teeth, but you make do. Wanda pulls away after a while and starts kissing your chin, your jaw, down to your neck then to your heaving chest.
She grabs your thighs and sits you on the counter, your legs automatically spreading to accommodate her between them. Your pencil skirt bunching on your waist.
"Let's remove these," Wanda says, her eyes trained on your ruined panties. You grab her shoulder to help her tug it off you.
Without much fanfare, the demon kneels on the floor and parts your legs wider. Wanda grabs your right foot, starts planting kisses from it up to your drenched upper thighs. She does the same on your left limb and you're sure you're shaking like a leaf from anticipation.
When she kisses your cunt, you bite your fist in hopes of staying sane.
"Don't," Wanda says against your folds. "Let me hear you make noises for me, my sweet."
At that, she dives into eating you out properly and you grab her horns instead, moaning freely. Hips grinding on her face, too fucked out to care that you're smearing your slick all over her mouth and cheeks. She likes you like this anyway. When you're too lost in the pleasure with nothing in your mind but reaching your climax.
Wanda slips her tongue inside of you, long and hot and hard. She fucks you with abandon and before long, you're cumming. The demon helps you ride your orgasm with slow, gentle thrusts. She only stops when you're pushing her away due to oversensitivity.
Wanda sneaks in a small lick and a quick suck on your clit. You flick her forehead for it and you're both giggling. You gather her in your arms and rest your cheek against hers.
"I love you, you stupid demon," you breathe out. "But I need you to carry me to the tub because I don't think my legs could carry me."
You've had her in your life for about just shy of a year, but you know what she'd say in response to that — something witty and smug — so you beat her to it, "Shut up."
"I haven't said anything yet."
"I know what you'd say and I don't wanna hear it."
Wanda chuckles in lieu of a reply. Then, after a moment, she says against your hair, "I love you too, my wonder of a human."
She helps you in the tub and climbs in behind you, back in her human form, and grabs your hips to pull you against her front.
You allow the redhead her moment of softness. Her hands running up and down your arms before tracing random shapes on your skin. You hum, melting against her.
You start telling her about your day, which was pretty shit, but that is neither here nor there when every day has been like so ever since you got promoted in the office. On top of being a sweet lover, Wanda is also a good listener. She's maybe the first ever person, or demon in her case, to hang onto each and every word that comes out of your mouth.
"...and then I've had to show the floor to the new interns, which is ridiculous. I didn't know senior managers do that shit, I mean, you'd think since I'm higher up the chain now, I get to sit back and relax." You end your long rant about your workday, exasperated and a little bit out of breath.
Wanda hums, her hands busy massaging your shoulders. At a particular hard knead on your back, you let out a soft moan.
"You looked really good on those high heels and skirt you have today," she says after a few minutes of silence.
"Thank you, baby." You're glad to be facing away from her, the compliment making you blush.
"If I 'intern' in your company, will you give me a tour, too?"
"Wanda, I swear to god, if I see you at the office tomorrow, I'll command you to stay in hell for a month," you warn her. You know she's been trying to find loopholes around your specific rule that she can never show herself at your workplace.
"Just imagine, you can tour me around in your short skirt, baby, and when it's just the two of us we can sneak to your floor and I'll fuck you with my cock."
Wanda's hand creeps down to your stomach, not yet making a move towards your pussy.
Her voice drops into a lower register, her accent apparent in her tone, "Or you can wear your suit and I'll wear the skirt, I can play the dumb slut who didn't wear her panties on her first day..." She catches your earlobe between her teeth before continuing, "and you can play the wicked boss who gets to bend me over their desk for being a naughty girl."
The image Wanda paints for you is almost enough to make your current monkey brain revoke the rule about her presence in the office.
"You'd look so good in the suit packing our favorite strap, baby, don't you think so?"
You groan at her neck, "You'd be the death of me, Wanda."
She starts rubbing your clit and you slowly undulate your hips against her touch, the water in the tub splashing around its edges at the motion. It doesn't take long before you're twisting around to face her, straddling her lap and resting your knees at the walls of the tub.
"That's it, Y/N," she says at the same time as she slips in two fingers inside your cunt. You whimper at the sudden intrusion.
Wanda matches your rhythm, thrusting up when your hips come down. She watches your face attentively. Fond and adoring, and it makes your heart stutter inside your ribcage.
To escape her gaze, you lean down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, moving back and forth to grind your clit on her palm. "You make me feel so fucking good, Wanda."
You shudder when you come, draping yourself around Wanda's torso. You and Wanda know it's your last one for the night.
You feel a bit sorry for not being able to return the favor, and you tell her so in which she only gives you an understanding smile in return.
Wanda was recalled back to hell for some 'administrative checkups' as she put it. You don't know how time works in hell if there even is the concept of it in there, but you've been missing her in your bed for about five weeks. That's why you try to stay awake while she's cleaning you up under the shower.
But the next time you blink your eyes open, you're already dry and in your pajamas, and Wanda's tucking you in bed.
You wait for her to join you under the comforter, pulling her against you and tucking her head under your chin.
"I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise."
"Tomorrow's Tuesday."
"I'll call in sick, say I've caught the flu and needed to stay home for the rest of the week."
You know she's pleased by your answer when you feel Wanda smile on the crook of your neck.
Yes, you're as ordinary and plain and boring as humans go, and the fact of the matter used to be a sore spot for Wanda whenever she's hounded by her fellow demons for the reason why she's staying longer in the mortal plane when she'd been vocal about how she hates it here. She couldn't even explain how or why you fascinate her.
But right here, tucked under your chin, surrounded by your warmth and the soft even thuds of your beating heart, Wanda feels loved.
