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me-uglypretty · 2 months

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someone commented on this via ao3 so like us when AND UHHH YUH YUHH

the heart doesn’t rest

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader

Summary: Fleeing to Norway was the dream that was only made better when lovers were together. Plus, the advantages of living in isolation provided unlimited freedom.

Warning: (18+) fluff, smut, bottom!r, somnophilia, voyeurism, cunninglingus, exhibitionism, fingering, power dynamics, filth | 5k words

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Life is an atrocious comedy. It bounded those living on earth into a monotone life, abiding to the rules and regulation spat upon their feeble body with the absolute necessity to survive. The comparison between one individual is vast, some gifted freedom while some barred in silver shackles. A life like that, stipulated different meaning on existing, and for you, the relentless taunt that came while living as you; a hero, a villain, a fugitive, whatever that smeared your name to their recent beliefs.

Their names were equally cursed among the same anticipating their rescue for when tragedy strikes. Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the intelligent spy and the powerful witch. But the most, your girlfriends, your lovers, the ones you wish to marry—when life wouldn’t exist like a plague for anyone of you.

However, living off-grid had proven no victory to either you or them.

“I hate this,” was said loudly, as your body habitually leaned into her sturdy body. “It’s not fair. We could’ve— we should had been together, right now and always. Not rotting in different ends of the world,” you exclaimed, pressing your body further into hers with hopes of pacifying your throbbing heart.

Natasha’s hand spread on the space of your back, rubbing soothing circles to offer some sort of comfort to your fretting. The customary gloom appeared throughout the days apart from your lover, but Natasha stayed strong for you, and for Wanda.

“Malyshka, this is for our safety. Didn’t you like Norway?” she inquired, tilting your head to meet her eyes. Those verdant eyes, gleams flawlessly beneath amber light, and she stares into yours with utmost love and trust. “You wanted to come here when everything is over.”

It was true. Norway was a dream manifested into reality. You had murmured to them one night—when nude bodies laid on bed, limps tangled and at ease, where slick and sweat coats your skin and theirs, and the scent of arousal lingers for hours after—that you wished to live in the coldest parts of Norway.

Wanda had laughed. Teasing remarks fell from her mouth. You had troubles handling your body’s temperature, despite being born a witch. Utilising too much of your power would embark your body in waves of heat or unbearably coldness. The latter was more common.

Natasha queried for reasons why you had chosen that specific location. It stirred some kind of seriousness in the air as you confessed;

“I want to live in isolation. Maybe, we can have a farm, so we won’t need to depend on other’s produce…and we won’t be under their radars. I just want— I need the freedom to hold both of your hands, and kiss your mouth…without them watching,” you revealed, voice soft and laced with a hint of insecurity from confessing something so precious to your heart, of your dreams with them.

They didn’t discard your dreams or teased your vulnerable confession.

Instead, Wanda had enclosed her hand over yours which laid comfortably above your stomach, and Natasha followed the same course. Both grasping your hands warmly. The jovial look on their face, same hearts that that endured the worst and still flourished with such love. One day, they had promised, kissing you wholly and holding you close.

Then, Natasha brought you here. A safehouse in Norway. Just you and her. Finally—it spoke in such a bitter tone. The atmosphere which breathes of tranquility and away from chaos of large building, doesn’t alter your absolute dejection. Isolation was great, you once thought, before realising the special state of isolation was meant for three together, and not when apart.

“I do, you know I do,” you spoke softly, and pressed your head on her chest. The beating of her heart, reminded you of life, and that was enough till life changes for the better.

Natasha doesn’t force the non-verbal confession from leaving your sad mouth or force your gloom state into one that shone brighter than the sun. It aches her heart to know how you felt, while knowing that Wanda was suffering the same in another part of Europe.

After the horrific escape of a witch, as they so fearfully claimed, Wanda was transported immediately on the opposite direction of her lovers. Vision had accompanied her for further protection. It was ensured that different locations will promise the safety of everyone.

Edinburgh wasn’t anything like Norway, neither provided the safety of three lovers together.

It wasn’t fair, you had argued, shoving and spitting in the face of those imposing such ruthless verdict on lives that weren’t theirs. Natasha had stayed on their side. It was the best decision, she persuasively told you with her hand cupping your damped cheeks.

Betrayal dripped at your tongue for what your lovers failed to brawl over. Till you comprehended that it was more risking for everyone to stay together than it was to split their locations far apart from the other.

But the heart doesn’t rest. It yearns for lovers to unite, and not be left incomplete, just aching for the other to return home.

“I miss Wanda too,” Natasha confessed woefully. She felt the tug of your hand over hers, drawing her attention to your bleary eyes.

“What if,” you paused, conjuring the violet glow in your palm, and it effortlessly flushed through her hand in your grasp. “I bring her here and—”

“You can’t,” Natasha interrupted your whirling ideas, and witness the gleam of violet in your eyes intensifies, before fading to reveal the usual tint of your eyes. But it’s sadder, the most gloom she had ever seen you. “It’s not possible. It can hurt her, hurt you, and I can’t have that, ever,” she spoke with finality, not furthering your attempts as you dejectedly accepted her words.

Maybe, if life wasn’t a cruel fest for those yearning to proclaim lives that aren’t theirs—you would happily live together with them, you would wake in the morning in the comfort of their embrace, you would love them till the end, and love would bloom so beautifully together.

December would have been prospering in colourful decorations, music involving the wintry holiday, and January would had carried forward with that. When wishes would be made for gifts and more, you wouldn’t wish for anything else, as they were enough for your pulsing heart.

“Is Wanda okay?” you questioned, “Vision’s staying out of her way?”

Natasha’s soft chuckles lifts the solemn mood. “Vision is minding his own business. Don’t worry, he wouldn’t dare mess with our witch.”

You huffed, hot breath fanning the extend of her neck. “He better, or I’ll cut him into pieces.”

While the threat was uttered in sheer jealousy with a hint of playfulness, it wasn’t far from the wicked truth. Natasha noticed the sparks of violet in your eyes, it resurfaced at unwarranted moments which exposed your intentions to her and the honesty of your words. Handling two witches became her expertise at this stage.

“Okay, hot stuff,” Natasha teased, her thumb and forefinger grasps your chin, tilting your head upwards, and pressing a haste kiss on your pouting lips. “No more talking. Time to watch James Bond, it’s my favourite.”

You simply nodded, following after with a question, “Will you repeat every dialogue?”

Natasha doesn’t answer. Instead, she resumed the movie playing on her laptop. When a character spoke, her soft voice followed them. It flutters your heart, fueling warmth to witness her so unrestricted.

And there, where your body bask in her warmth, where your heart aches with hers, where love doesn’t fade but flourishes.

Natasha offers you comfort in ways you loved; her warm embrace, her wordless kisses on your skin, her jokes that made you laugh, her tender effort of ensuring you ate by feeding you, and her body close to yours.

It doesn’t offend her that you had refused her physical advances. But she vowed to ensure everything went accordingly to your preferences.

If you wanted silence, she offered it. If you preferred dotting down each reason for your hatred, she listened. If you claimed the holidays as a marketing scheme, she agreed while retaining herself from laughing at the childlike expression on your face. If you pulled her outside the old trailer with the declaration of making a wish, she undoubtedly followed your words.

One phrase that left mouths longing for their lover; I wish…Wanda was back home.

The vacant space between two, remained there, taunting hearts with agony.

But love—the one that pulses in your heart and hers, it stimulates the hope for soon. That a wish may come true as fairy tales proclaimed. That love shared between three would soon reunite, and what forces dare divide them, would cease to exist.

In the depth of an isolated forest, miles away from open road or any sort of human contact, an old trailer was parked and hidden from peering eyes. Almost appearing deserted by its tattered state, and dull colour. The residence in this part of town, minded their business which faultlessly kept the identities of hidden fugitives safe, and the promise of sheer remoteness.

What noises that may resonates in an old trailer or around, wouldn’t draw attention. It’s a space of utter isolation.

Thus, the sudden noise of an aircraft or the sounds of bodies clashing after weeks apart, made no difference to your deep slumber state and the non-existing folks around.

That morning was different, though, you felt the peace that engulf your mind in your deep slumber. Sleep hasn’t come easy since you had moved here with Natasha. The habit of sleeping between your lovers had made your body uneasy without them together, and the sentiments were mutual.

At that hour, your serene sleep had failed to comprehend anything pass reality. You felt the touch, something cold, something hot, something that tickles your skin with waves of familiarity. It does nothing, but draw an almost inaudible groan from your mouth as you resumed sleeping.

“Malyshka,” a syrupy voice whispered, slipping into your mind as though, a pleasant dream. Crimson hue sparks on your skin at her tender touch. It produces red wisps through the side of your head, each stroke reaching to the depth of your mind.

You found her there. Wanda. The softest emerald eyes glowing beneath the sun’s gleam, her eyebrows furrowed as she laughs at something and your heart flutters, but still incomplete. Till, you felt pairs of hands on your shoulder and turn to meet those eyes, an ocean shifting from the nature’s green to the deep blue. Natasha smiles at you, wrapping her arms around your body while Wanda embrace you from behind.

However, your dreaming state and deep slumber, doesn’t wake you for the reality that blessed your form. That she was there, they were truly there, together, admiring your body sprawled on the bed.

Wanda was sat crossed legs by your side, as though, admiring an exclusive relic, while opposite her was a mischief looking Natasha. “Go on,” the latter persuaded. “She’s really sleepy,” Natasha added, before grasping the warm hand of her lover. She guides famished hand to where your legs were spread apart, and the heat the emits as their hands neared your core.

“Oh,” Wanda’s mouth fell gape, her pupils dilated in sheer lust and tease of crimson that gleams in her eyes. Her hand greedily cups your heat, speckles of red flutters around. “You’re such a good girl,” she purred, finger drawing a line through your clothed slit and you whimpered in response.

Natasha marvelled at the sight. It made the experience more thrilling as her hand trails to your clothed breast. She kneads your supple breast, and the lack of bra made obvious of your erected nipple.

“Please,” you mumbled in your sleep. The twitches on your face made them laugh. Your hands enclosed around nothing, while your legs trembles at Wanda’s teasing touch.

Then, a loud smack echoes in the small room. Wanda’s hand met your core with a rough slap, inciting amused chuckles from Natasha. The quirks of your lips, almost pleading for them, and the lust that continues to flourish in your slumber.

And in your mind, still deep in oblivion, you seek refuge of them in your fantasy.

It made them happy to know love that thrives, despite far apart or when unconsciousness engulfs warm bodies.

Those nights which haunt your attempt of sleep, ceased to exist at that hour as florid dreams resonates.

You felt something more, a teasing touch of her lips on your skin, the hand of a witch and the touch of a spy. Wanda’s hand grasping yours, and Natasha holding your jaw firmly as she presses an eager kiss on your mouth.

The stickiness made known between your lower region, urge for your legs to rub together for some friction to appease your throbbing core. Your hand awkwardly travels a path down, and you watch them gawk at you, in your brilliant dream.

Unbeknownst to your slumber state, what you dreamed at that hour, mirrored your action in reality. Your hand had slipped into your pajama pants. Wanda’s hand long strayed from that space, opting to watch you instead. Natasha doesn’t touch you either, both craving to witness the erotic scene. Your fingers messily fondled with your clit. The muddled friction caused immense pleasure in your sleep.

Natasha clicks her tongue and shakes her head at your pathetic state. “Like you haven’t been masturbating in the shower since we came here,” she scolded, and forcefully attempts to remove your hand, but the gleam of red hindered her action.

“Let her,” Wanda uttered, lust filled eyes were enchanted by your sleepy moans, and the dire efforts for bringing yourself to climax.

They remained seated on each side of your body, Natasha to your left, and Wanda to your right. Temptation is heavy, a taunting voice urging for mouths to meet, for hands to touch, for slick to coat skins and mouth. It’s so burdensome that when two pairs of eyes glance away from watching you masturbate in your slumber state, a spy and a witch exchanged a wordless understanding that curls their lips.

Wanda doesn’t break their penetrating gaze as she grasps Natasha’s hand and tugs the sturdy hand of her lover to her face. Instantly, her mouth enclosed around two dominant fingers. Velvety tongue laps around Natasha’s fingers, coating her digits with saliva. It drew a moan from a witch, where the magic that streams through her blood, pulsates around three in pure ecstasy.

With the quick wave of her hands—clothes that cladded warm bodies, vanished into thin air.

The cold weather of Norway made them tremble, your mouth quipped with a groan. But warmth would soon embrace nude bodies, they promised.

Natasha made a noise of appreciation and amusement. Her nude lovers were before her round eyes, scorching in lust for days to come, for the nights that would not grant them sleep as bodies finally meet.

“Hmm, you’re so incompetent, aren’t you?” Natasha mocked, prodding her fingers further into Wanda’s mouth as her left hand found yours, still foolishly stimulating your clit. She was determined to aid you, knowing you were hopeless without their touch.

Her hand pressed over yours, each finger lining over the other as she controlled them over your cunt. Still in sleep and relishing your sensual dream, your hips bucked in response to her guidance. It felt real in your blurry mind.

A sole finger was thrust into your tight hole, each stroke produced slowly. You whined in your sleep, still craving for something that wouldn’t leave you at the brink of orgasm, but enough to reach climax.

The mere sight of her lovers so beautiful, so helpless, so feeble under her control. Natasha offers her gratitude to whoever allowed paths to crossed. For her to meet you and together, meet Wanda. Forever, drips from her sinful tongue so sweetly and honestly—to love, to protect, to pleasure.

Natasha doesn’t fitter away from admiring your glistering cunt, entirely clear for her ravenous eyes. She was unable to avert her gaze as her hand moves over yours.

As always, Natasha declared while scrutinising your efforts.

Your hands were useless at pleasuring yourself, if not for her guidance and some unexpected moments, under Wanda’s guidance. Her hand itched to grasps your supple breast, to pinch your nipples and taste you wholly in her mouth, to hear the helpless pleads fell from your mouth.

A blabbering mess—similar to Wanda, who gags at the sudden thrust of Natasha’s hand. But she doesn’t stop, her tongue continues to suck and nibble on her lover’s digits till she was pleased. Natasha tucks her bottom lips between her teeth, lust filled eyes glued on Wanda’s breast that bounces at the subtle movement to wake pleasure between her thighs.

It's pitiful, she conveyed to the witch’s mind and heard Wanda’s breath hitch. Her gaze travel downward, Wanda’s unshaven cunt doesn’t hide the wetness that gleams under faux light or the way her core was perceptible while crossed legs, exposing her arousal for her lover’s eyes. Natasha’s mouth waters at the sight.

“Good girl,” Natasha’s fingers curls in Wanda’s mouth, before pulling them out with a pop. A line of drool glides the corner of Wanda’s mouth.

Her darken eyes, an endless abyss of dusky viridescent—admires her lovers. Two witches, so powerful and so hopeless under her control. She clenched around nothing and slowly spread her legs apart, enough for her saliva coated fingers to slip between.

Wanda’s eyes widened as her round eyes unashamedly watch the fingers she sucked, disappeared in an auburn bush, the shade few notch darker than lover’s head of hair. She shifted slightly, inspecting the way Natasha thrust her own fingers into her hole, and thumb rubbing her clit chaotically. Wanda averted her gaze grudgingly when she heard your mouth released a loud moan, then stared at the double penetration of Natasha’s hand over yours. The spy’s skilled fingers curls on both ends, for you, and for her own pleasure.

It wakes a deprivation inside her body and a pleading desire which Natasha answered, “Show me.”

Show me how wet you are—repeats in her mind as her trembling hand fell over her cunt with a smack, then again. Wanda immerses herself in the sting which made her cunt throb for more. Whispers of praises aids her into slipping her two fingers between her folds, the tips of her fingers teasing her tight hole. Her eyes shut closed with the murmurs of a dream which you presumed was just that.

Moans bounced off the old walls while sloshing sounds propelled them into thrusting deeper into their cunt, the feeling almost foreign to them, and altogether with you. While wrist ached for what seemed like hours of glorious pleasure, you haven’t dare hindered your action or wake from your induced sleep.

“Are you close?” Natasha moaned, her fingers rubbing intensely on her clit. “Fuck, come for me,” she ushered, eyes trained on Wanda as she increased her pace.

Wanda felt the tight knot formed, seconds way from utmost orgasm. She gazed into the soften eyes of her lover, those sweet praises seeps into her mind as she slowly comes undone. Her motion slacks, body hunched at the tingling sensation that erupts, and a hazy smile took place on her face. Sweat trickles down her skin from the heat of bodies finally achieving their rightful indulgence.

Natasha, on the other end, hasn’t reach her wanting climax. She removes her fingers with a whimper, extending her hand to where Wanda’s mouth readily accepts those fingers drenched in arousal. Wanda moves her mouth, forward and back, downing the entirety of her lover’s juice.

Without a warning, Natasha pulled her fingers out of Wanda’s mouth and slammed them back into her tight hole. The warmth mix with wetness bridge her pleasure as her walls enclosed around her fingers. Her continuous thrust becomes sloppy. The uncontrollably moans falling from your mouth draw their attention to you.

Your stomach felt heavy, like you were seconds away from exploding in sheer ecstasy. It doesn’t dither your teasing touch, as your dream slowly fades and your eyes flutters open.

“Malyshka?” Wanda whispered in awed.

It seemed alluring—as your hand moved faster, even quicker than Natasha’s aided stimulation. You observed her skin glistering with sweat, pupils dilated with clear present of lust then you noticed Natasha’s hand over yours, and her facial expression matched with your other lover.

Natasha removes her fingers out of her clamping hole, and takes a deep breath at the empty feeling inside her. “This was—” and she halted the words that left her mouth, in response of seeing your puzzled expression. “Oh, poor baby,” she purred, slowly leaning lower to meet your face and pressing a haste kiss on your lips.

Her slick coated fingers jammed into your mouth seconds after, as you sucked on her, eyes shutting close at the taste that sweep your tastebuds. Wanda follows her lover’s advance and laid by your side with her head perched on her palm.

You felt their breast pressed on your skin, the bumps at every thrust, skin layered with sweat, and the smell—your moaned at that. It felt like a dream come true, the best way to wake, the best way to stay with them.

“You’re taking me so good,” Natasha praised, then meeting the equally enthralled eyes of Wanda. “I think she can take more,” she said, or more so, command.

Wanda doesn’t refuse her lover’s indication as her fingers teased her cunt, collecting her wetness in turn of pressing them to your mouth. Their digits were ramped into your mouth, curling and smiling as you gagged.

Reality seeps into your mind from their touch, from the praises that neared your edge as you come undone. Your mouth doesn’t stop its ministration on their fingers till they pulled their fingers out, and allowed you the chance to breathe and speak in blurred words.

“How,” you gasped, chest heaving as your breast budges at that notion. Natasha cups one breast with her hand, and palm your erected nipples before pinching them between her wet fingers.

Natasha’s fixation on your breasts, the manner she massages your breast then wrapping her mouth around your nipple, which action drew a hefty moan from your mouth—doesn’t offer your needed answer. Only pleasure made your mind blank from what you had sought from them.

“I missed you,” Wanda professed, and firmly kisses your moist lips. “I had to see you. Natasha said you’ve been sad. Is that true?”

You vaguely nodded your head. The mist of your dreams, your reality, and your sheer bliss state, doesn’t offer more.

“Awe, our baby’s so senseless,” Natasha mocked, her mouth leaves a line of saliva as she moves to your neglected breast. Your breath hitched at that, hand immediately falling on her head and urging her to suck on your nipple.

Wanda giggles with a look of content for finally having her lovers together, and misery would cease to exist. Her head softly rest on your collarbone, allowing the best view of Natasha relishing the feel of your breast in her mouth, and her own hand trails down your abdomen.

It doesn’t—it wouldn’t stop, and you happily bestowed your body to their starved touch to compensate for days apart.

And for once, after a long while, your heart found peace. When yearning was met with the smiles on their face, and concealed with every kiss. When home is found again.

A snowstorm had accumulated few feet of snow outside. Warnings were transmitted beforehand, though, it wasn’t something feared among heroes known to fighting the most mysterious presences. Besides, heroes and villains alike were cleverly trained in such situations. Natasha’s years training provided a sense of relief for possible causes after, while Wanda’s crimson gleam with the combination of your violet glow, was powerful enough.

In other words, you were equipped with the best team.

The horrendous weather nor the target on your head and theirs, could interfere the reunions of lovers. Holidays promised together were cramped in an old trailer. Several gifts were scattered around with a playful game amid its discovery. It was orchestrated for each individual’s inner child, and for hearts to feel better than what was expected outside this little heaven.

A Christmas hat was adorned on your head for the sake of holiday spirit in the middle of January. The horribly tuned radio played familiar melodies, some known, and some unfamiliar.

It was chilly inside, with the few blows of warmth from the heater. The weather wasn’t blamed, when clothes had failed to reach your body or theirs. Since Wanda’s arrival, nudity was the proposed option. Neither wishing for any material to create a barrier what they deemed as a beautiful sight, and you happily agreed, just steaming with the thought of seeing them walking around in their bare skin.

The graze of nude skin while walking close in compact trailer, ignited a fire within, or when a wet patch was left on the faux leather seat that gawked at her. And Natasha expertly lifted you over the counter, spreading your thighs apart as she devoured you.

“Baby, you’re so wet,” Natasha would mumble into your heated core. “Always,” offered as a whisper, where Wanda gawked at your defenceless state.

In a day, you had spent several times in the same position that your brain failed to remember the count. Complains never fell from your mouth, even when Natasha guided Wanda to thrust her tongue into your sensitive cunt. The continuous ministration left your body buzzing, tired, and craving them in every way.

Everything felt perfect.

Better than living among others, and only snatching few hours or if you’re lucky, few minutes of time together. But this life, it granted freedom that wasn’t timed.

Time with them made you giddy throughout the day and night. If not your beaming smile, your throat would burn from pleading and your mouth wide open as they teased your body; insensitively twisting your nipples, prodding your tight holes but never allowing the pleasure of filling you, the faint licks over your heated core that made your hips buck into their face—to only have them draw back.

Greedy, that’s what they’d say.

As if you haven’t allowed them the authorization to do as they pleased to your body. But you played according to their demand for your own pleasure.

Even when you find yourself in the most compromised position.

The morning had woken differently. Sun gleaming through the window, rays of golden shone on Wanda’s face that roused her—and where she met the sight of Natasha’s fingers lazily circling her clit, and your head resting on her thigh. You had settled on admiring the way Wanda’s body reacted to your lover’s teasing touch.

“Let’s play in the snow,” Wanda had proposed, with a glint her eyes that could either mean the worse or the best. “Malyshka, don’t you wanna play in the snow?” she diverted her attention solely to you, and you tentatively answered with a nod.

After that—you found yourself alone, and completely nude, abiding to the rule made. Except for your boots cladded feet. Nevertheless, your figure was hidden by prominent trees around, and absolute isolation. Disapproval that fell from your mouth on attempting something potential risky was persuaded by cold hand palming your heat, and the warning after.

“You’re not a naughty, are you?” Natasha spoke lowly, easily leaving your cunt drenched. “Santa doesn’t like naughty girls,” she whirred, half expecting for your rebuttal.

“But Christmas is over…” you uttered, and winced when your nipples was pinched. “Fuck,” you cursed, noticing the thread of red circling your breasts.

Wanda pressed her nude front against your back, and the feel of her perky breast had rendered you speechless. You could feel the heat emitting from her lower region as her hips bucks froward—till the interruption was made to carry forward with their plan.

It started with a playful game of snowball which led to hide and seek. You counted the numbers till fifty before searching for your lovers. It was the little act of innocence that overlooks the horrendous memories. And the clear indication that their thoughts were laced with things much explicit.

However, you were left alone with the thoughts of them. You had easily recognised it as Wanda’s new tricks of depicting them in the most compromising position. Those visuals pulses in your mind, while you tried—

It wasn’t wrong, you had justified. They roused the thrilling sensation that flushed your skin. It was them who drove such compelling images into your mind. They were to blame for the slick coating your thighs, and the shivers of your legs when wind blew.

They, fell from your mouth as incomplete excuses when patience narrowed and your hand provoked to satisfy the throbbing ache. Your helpless moans were muffled with your hand. You could hear the wetness from your cunt, as the image of them coax your perverted intentions. The fear of being caught, barely crossed your mind.

That, you failed to perceive the sound of broken twigs or the gasped upon seeing your shameless act of masturbating in your lonesome.

Natasha’s hold on Wanda’s hand tightens. They perceived the scene as expected. Assumptions were made between them, one for you to find them and discover their surprise while the other on your inability to stray away from your sinful thoughts.

Together, your lovers had crafted the best surprise for missed holidays. A little game embarked between three, and where hiding would further lead you to those surprises. Natasha had doubted you would do so, not after Wanda’s idea of planting such images into your mind.

Thus, Natasha doesn’t sympathise when she aggressively shoved you back against the tree’s trunk. The coarse texture scratches your bare skin and you cringed at the feeling, before realising the consequences of your action would hurt far more.

“This isn’t hide and seek,” Natasha’s voice edge with irritation, while Wanda stood behind with enthusiasm. “We had a very special surprise for you, but…” she trailed, and a devilish smirk graced her face.

It evoked something between fear and lust for your mistreatment—and you were drenched at the idea.

Natasha pushed your hand away from tiresome ministration, and spread your legs apart. “You’re so naughty, aren’t you?” she pestered. “Since you want everyone to see you like this, then let’s put on a show.”

The sight was shameless if viewed from an outsider—your body trembling from the cold and aching for her, despite her kneeling position, she was still in full control.

Natasha pressed her tongue flat against your puffy cunt that throbbed in response. She doesn’t wait for your familiarity to ease as her finger slide pass your folds and into your entrance. Wanda unreservedly watches her lover fucked you mercilessly, and she found her own pleasure amplified.

You breathed heavily, any attempt of gaining control or holding her shoulder was hindered by wisps of red. Whimpers fell from your mouth and they made a sound too, the hum of approval and pride.

It was great, they’d mutually agreed. To have you in their own way, without limitation or fearing the worse of life.

Though, the punishments were better.

“Please…” you begged, speech left hanging helplessly as a loud smack on your thigh made you shut your mouth.

“Natty says no,” Wanda beamed, waving her hand as red wisps twirls around your breast and you felt the instant stimulation.

Natasha continued her ministration with her fingers and her mouth, the taste of your juice filled her with utmost joy and pleasure. Your body limped against the tree’s trunk, indifferent of the course texture that would leave your skin with a rash.

And you accepted that—the utter control they had over your body, the heat woken in your stomach for them, the pulses of undying need by their name.

Besides, the next hour would prove the best of all little memories expand into one.

You would find yourself bring carried in Natasha’s sturdy arms, your hand would shamelessly trace the clear-cut muscles on her body. Wanda would cling herself on Natasha, her hand accidentally touching your sensitive parts and—

You would find their surprise. The gifts of missed days and gifs for coming days. Decorations that would brighten the timeworn attire of an old trailer. They would watch you happily engulf in a world of three, and love would bloom so beautifully.

What may occur in the coming days or months were feeble thoughts, that couldn’t ruin the embrace of lovers.

#it's post period horny szn so excuse me thank u

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