Natasha x G!P Wanda x Reader (F)
Summary: After apologizing, you end up watching a movie with them, which quickly becomes boring.
Warnings: Smut, P in V (N and R receiving), oral (all receiving), ass slapping (once), light choking, light overstim
A.N.: I've never really enjoyed writing smut, but I guess I keep doing it. Anyway, this is a well-overdue part 2. Enjoy, rabbits!
The morning sun painted warm stripes across the rumpled sheets.
Natasha stirred, a soft gasp escaping her as she felt Wanda’s mouth already between her thighs, her tongue tracing lazy, devastating circles.
Her back arched, fingers tight in Wanda’s hair.
“Morning,” Wanda murmured.
Natasha let the slow, worshipful rhythm pull a trembling climax from her sleep-soft body.
They lay tangled afterwards, dressing in tank tops, baggy shirts, and underwear.
Wanda traced lazy patterns on Natasha’s shoulder as she spoke about something unrelated to the current moment.
You pushed the door open.
Natasha was tucked under Wanda’s arm. Looking impossibly comfortable and domestic.
“I, um. Came to apologize. For last night,” you managed, the words tripping over themselves. “It was… I didn’t mean to…”
“You think that’s the first time someone’s walked in on us?” Natasha stretched, the hem of her tank top riding up. “Consider it a free show.”
“A preview, perhaps,” Wanda added, her green eyes holding yours with an unnerving focus. “We were just about to pick a film. Join us?”
This was a terrible, wonderful idea.
You settled beside them on the big bed.
Wanda pulled Natasha a little closer, making her lean her head against Wanda's shoulder.
The laptop balanced on Natasha’s lap as she scrolled while you picked a movie, the obvious choice being some sprawling sci-fi epic, all roaring ships and laser fire.
For a while, it was just movie sounds.
Then Natasha shifted, tucking her feet underneath her and leaning more heavily into Wanda’s side.
Wanda’s fingers stroked the exposed skin of Natasha’s upper arm.
You focused on a spaceship exploding.
Because the sigh that came from Natasha made you glance over.
Wanda’s hand had drifted lower, her fingertips tracing idle patterns along Natasha’s ribcage, just under the edge of her tank.
Natasha’s eyes were on the screen, but her lips were slightly parted.
Your skin prickles with awareness.
This was the plan, you realized.
This exact, slow, torturous unravelling.
“This part is boring,” Natasha murmured, her voice a low hum.
She turned her face into Wanda’s neck, nuzzling there.
Wanda’s answering smile was small and private as her wandering hand slid fully under Natasha’s top, palm flat against her stomach.
Natasha inhaled sharply, a tiny, deliberate sound that carried over the movie’s din.
Your fingers clenched in the fabric of your sweatpants.
You absolutely should get up, mutter an excuse, and flee.
Wanda’s hand moved upwards, cupping Natasha’s soft breast.
Natasha’s eyes finally flicked to you, a flash of green in the morning light, holding your gaze as Wanda’s thumb circled a hardening peak.
A shiver ran through Natasha, so slight you might have imagined it, but you didn’t.
She wanted you to see it.
“Comfortable?” Wanda asked you, her voice a low purr that vibrated through the space between you.
Her attention was on Natasha, on the responsive flesh under her hand, but the question was yours.
“Yeah,” you breathed, the word barely audible.
You were electrified, every nerve ending screaming.
Emboldened, Wanda dipped her head, capturing Natasha’s mouth in a deep, unhurried kiss.
Natasha melted into it, a soft whine escaping into Wanda’s mouth.
The shift was subtle, but Natasha’s legs had parted with the laptop long forgotten down by her knees.
Her leg was over one of Wanda’s, the other touching yours.
The blanket that had been over them pooled at their waist.
Wanda’s other hand, the one not currently busy under Natasha’s shirt, slid to Natasha’s thigh, squeezing the firm muscle there before travelling inward, towards the seam of her brown cotton underwear.
Natasha broke the kiss, breathing ragged, and let her head fall back against the headboard.
Her eyes found yours again, heavy-lidded and dark.
There was no smirk now, just raw, open want.
Wanda’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of Natasha’s underwear.
You heard the faint, damp sound of contact, and your own body throbbed in helpless sympathy.
Natasha’s breath hitched, her hips lifting just a fraction to meet Wanda’s touch.
“She’s still watching,” Wanda whispered against Natasha’s throat, her words meant for you as much as for her.
“I know,” Natasha gasped, her stare locking with yours, unwavering. “Don’t stop.”
The world narrowed to the rhythmic motion of Wanda’s hidden hand.
Her sweet scent of arousal began to cut through the air.
You were a spectator, a participant, an accomplice.
Your own pulse hammered in your ears, drowning out the forgotten movie’s climax.
You turned to your side, your body language softening—yielding.
Natasha’s lips curved into a slow, triumphant smile just as her eyes fluttered shut, and a low, ragged moan tore from her chest.
Wanda watched her face, then turned her luminous, knowing eyes on you.
“Your turn to choose,” Wanda said, her voice rough but composed, her hand still moving slowly beneath the fabric. “Do we pause the movie?”
The words hung in the air, a soft challenge.
Your mouth was dry, but your blood was roaring.
You looked at Natasha, still trembling from Wanda’s touch, her eyes holding a question you’d seen in your own dreams.
You looked at Wanda, whose patient control was an open door.
“No,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “Don’t pause it.”
It came out as a whisper broken by a whine from Natasha as Wanda extracted her hand, her fingers glistening from Natasha’s arousal.
You dared to move closer.
Wanda watched, a satisfied curve to her mouth, her hand now resting possessively on Natasha’s thigh.
“Hi,” Natasha whispered, her smile shaky and real.
“Hi,” you whispered back.
Your hand lifted to cup her cheek.
She leaned in before the touch came.
Your fingers brushed her jaw, then tracing the line down to her pulse point.
She let out a soft sigh, her eyes closing.
Your fingers wrapped around her throat.
The hot whisper against her ear made her shiver.
With a frantic nod, she bucked her hips.
Wanda’s free hand reached across Natasha, guiding your hand to hold her neck tighter.
“She likes it when it’s a little rough,” Wanda murmured, instruction laced with intimacy.
You complied, applying gentle pressure.
Natasha’s head tipped back, a low groan escaping her as the red hair on the nape of her neck stood.
It was intoxicating, this power granted to you, filtered through Wanda’s command.
You were following her lead, joining her rhythm.
“Can you feel how wet she is?” Wanda asked, her voice a low rumble near Natasha’s ear.
She wasn’t asking Natasha.
You swallowed, your gaze dropping to the wet spot at the front of Natasha’s underwear.
“Don’t imagine,” Wanda said, and her eyes held yours.
The directive was clear, a permission slip wrapped in an order.
Your heart hammered against your ribs.
Her breath coming in shallow pants.
Wanda moved her hand to grab your free one, guiding it between Natasha’s legs.
“Open wider, Nat,” Wanda muttered, her hand grabbing the fat on her girlfriend's thigh to part them wider.
Natasha’s breath hitched, watching your face as your knuckles brushed the soft cotton.
The heat hit you; her soaked underwear made you gasp.
Natasha jerked at the first contact of your fingers over the fabric.
A sharp inhale cut through her.
You pressed your palm firmly against her, feeling the structure and shape of her.
“See?” Wanda said, her voice thick with pride.
You nodded, your eyes dropping to Natasha’s lips before meeting her darkened eyes again.
You shifted your hand, slipping beneath the final barrier of her underwear.
The sensation was electric—hot, slick skin meeting your touch.
Natasha’s hips rocked up into your hand as a shuttering gasp escaped her, her eyes finally closing.
You let your fingers slide through her folds, a slow, exploratory stroke that left you breathless.
“Y/N,” Natasha gasped, your name a prayer on her lips.
You leaned in, finally closing the last distance between your mouth and hers.
Her lips were soft and insistent, tasting of mint, Wanda, and want.
You kissed her deeply, your hand moving in time with the thrust of your tongue, learning her rhythm.
Wanda watched, her hand now stroking Natasha’s side.
Like a maestro observing her orchestra fall into harmony.
After a moment, Wanda moved, her lips finding the slope of your neck.
“Good,” she whispered against your skin, the praise searing. “Now, make her come. Just with your fingers. I want to watch.”
You broke the kiss, looking at Natasha’s dazed expression.
You nodded, not to Wanda, but to Natasha, a silent promise.
Wanda stood up and removed her shirt, her boxer tight around her hips.
You focused on the feel of Natasha, the evidence of her pleasure coating your fingers.
You then felt Wanda cupping your breasts, squeezing them with gentle care.
Wanda grabbed your chin and pressed her lips to yours.
Meanwhile, your fingers found a slow, relentless pressure that made Natasha whimper, your thumb circling the aching peak above your delving strokes.
Natasha’s world narrowed to your hand and the sound of her best friend and girlfriend kissing.
You gasped into Wanda’s mouth, letting her tongue explore every corner of it.
Natasha grabbed your wrist with both hands, making you loosen your grip on her throat.
She grabbed onto your shirt, pushing her face into your shoulder as deep breaths left her open mouth.
You felt the tight coil within her, winding and winding, your own body echoing the tension.
“She’s close,” Wanda spoke, pulling her swollen lips from yours.
You turned your gaze back to Natasha, who had currently blocked all senses except for your touch.
You moved quickly on top of her, your hand pulling out and gripping the side of her underwear to pull it down.
Natasha gasped as your firm hands grabbed the underside of her thighs to pull her legs over your shoulders.
Your tongue met her centre.
Hot and wet and not scared to get hair in your mouth, you moved with experience.
Natasha arched her back, a loud moan from deep in her chest escaping.
“Fuck,” Wanda muttered, moving off the bed and starting to pull down your sweatpants and underwear. “Make her come.”
You thrived in what felt like your natural habitat as the cool air hit your now bare ass.
A groan escaped from Wanda when she saw you exposed in front of her.
Her bulge pressed against your heat, making you moan into Natasha.
Natasha knew from the second your tongue touched her that this wasn’t your first time.
You didn't; you knew better.
“Let go,” you whispered into clit, your voice a stranger’s—low, confident, sure. “We’re here. I’ve got you.”
It was the “we” that did it.
Her climax ripped through her, a silent, breathtaking seizure for a second before the sound followed, a raw, sharp cry that she buried in the pillow.
You kissed her thighs gently until she caught her breath, absentmindedly rubbing your folds against Wanda’s covered tip.
A firm hand landed on your cheek, making you groan in stinging pleasure. Wanda then grabbed your hips tightly, pushing her covered length through your wet lips.
“My turn,” Wanda murmured, the words vibrating with intent.
Her gaze held Natasha's as her hands went to her boxers.
Natasha, still breathing heavily underneath you, watched with dark, hungry eyes.
You understood the silent cue.
Your fingers, still slick from Natasha, found the bottom of Natasha’s soft tank top.
You lifted it, and she raised her arms in a slow, graceful arc, letting you pull it over her head and toss it aside.
Natasha shivered, not from cold, as the air hit her skin.
You glanced behind you as Wanda’s cock sprang free, already leaking, and she wrapped her fingers around it with a soft, familiar sigh.
She gave herself a few gentle strokes, watching you watch her.
“Your clothes are in the way,” Natasha whispered, her own hands moving to your shirt.
You helped her, lifting your arms as she tugged it off.
You sat up, pulling your sweatpants and underwear all the way off.
Natasha’s palms smoothed over your bare thighs, a claiming touch.
“Come here,” she said, pulling you down for another kiss, deep and languid.
You went willingly, your body aligning with hers on the wide bed.
She scootched down to lie flat against the mattress, your breasts resting on top of hers.
The world narrowed to the taste of her, the soft sounds she made, the feel of her bare skin under your hands.
Then you felt it—the blunt, warm pressure of Wanda pressing herself against your entrance again; this time, there was no cloth in the way.
You gasped into Natasha’s mouth.
Wanda’s hands settled on your hips, steadying, holding.
“Easy,” Wanda whispered, her breath hot on your shoulder.
She pushed forward, a slow, inexorable invasion that stretched you, filled you, and stole the air from your lungs.
Yet you moaned, the sound swallowed by Natasha’s kiss.
Wanda began to move in a deep, rolling rhythm that was nothing like the frantic pace of the two of them from the night before.
This was a claiming, a communion.
Each slow stroke dragged a new sound from your throat.
You kissed Natasha with desperate intensity, your hands framing her face, your hips rocking back against Wanda’s deep drives.
You broke from Natasha’s lips, panting, and dragged your mouth down the elegant line of her throat.
You sucked at the pulse point there, nipping and sucking until a dark bloom formed under her skin—a mark.
Natasha whimpered, her back arching, offering herself more to your mouth.
The building tension in your core demanded a shift.
You moved up, Wanda falling out with a soft groan.
Your body slid against Natasha's until you straddled her head.
She understood instantly.
Her hands came up to grasp your thighs, and she pulled you down onto her waiting mouth without hesitation.
The first flat stroke of her tongue made you cry out.
A choked groan escaped Wanda as she watched.
Then she leaned forward, spreading Natasha’s legs beneath you, and guided herself back into Natasha’s soaking heat with one slow, deep push.
Natasha moaned against you, the vibration travelling straight to your core.
The sensation was overwhelming—the pleasure of Natasha’s devouring mouth and the wet, filthy sounds of Wanda and Natasha’s meeting.
You gripped the headboard, throwing your head back.
Wanda set a deep, punishing pace; Natasha, still sensitive from the first orgasm, trembled in pleasure and overstimulation.
“Y/N, turn,” Wanda panted, one of her hands gripping your shoulder.
You obeyed, moving off Natasha for only a second before moving on again, only this time facing Wanda.
Wanda groaned, grabbing Natasha’s legs and pushing them towards you.
Natasha almost shrieked underneath you, a sound you’ve never heard before.
You grabbed Natasha’s ankles towards you, leaving Natasha incredibly exposed to Wanda’s deep thrusts.
Natasha cried out, muffled by your sensitive folds, doing her best to keep up.
Yet your thighs shook where Natasha held them. Her frantic, wet rhythm pulling a desperate keening sound from your throat with every pass.
Wanda’s gaze was iron on yours, her hips pistoning, and you watched a bead of sweat trail from her temple down the elegant column of her neck.
“That’s it,” Wanda grunted, her voice strained with the effort of her pace. “Let her taste you.”
The command, or perhaps the sheer obscene reality of it, snapped the last thread of your control.
Your back bowed, a silent scream tearing through you as the climax detonated, flooding Natasha’s mouth.
She drank you down, her throat working, a low, satisfied hum vibrating against your sensitive flesh.
The sensation prolonged the waves, wracking you until you collapsed to the side, Wanda catching Natasha’s legs.
Wanda grunted, deep and animalistic, as she picked up the pace yet again.
You couldn’t help but moan at the sight of them.
Natasha’s hand reached out for you as Wanda pushed her legs so far that her knees met her ears.
“That’s it, baby… taking it… so well,” Wanda panted, closing her eyes as she kept hammering home, pitching Natasha over the edge right after you.
Natasha’s cry was not muffled this time, giving your ears an orgasm of their own.
Her whole body seized in a second, a violent orgasm that clenched around Wanda.
For a heartbeat, there was only the sound of ragged breathing and the tinny soundtrack of the forgotten movie.
Wanda pulled out slowly, her hands moving to stroke herself, glistening and spent.
You watched her fingers move, her head thrown back, chasing the very last echoes of sensation.
Instinct, sharp and sudden, flared in your spent muscles.
You reached out and caught Wanda’s wrist, stopping her.
Her green eyes flew open.
“No,” you said, your voice rough.
You looked over at Natasha, who was watching through heavy-lidded eyes, her lips still swollen.
“Let me watch her suck you.”
You released Wanda’s wrist.
A slow, wicked smile spread across Natasha’s face.
She rose to her hands and knees, presenting herself, the perfect arch of her back and ass on display.
She turned her head, nuzzling first at the inside of Wanda’s thigh, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses there.
“Tease,” Wanda breathed, her hands lifting instinctively to fist in Natasha’s red hair.
“Ah-ah,” you interjected, your tone leaving no room for debate. “Hands on your hips.”
Wanda groaned, a sound of deep frustration mixed with molten pleasure, but she obeyed.
She moved her hands to grip her own hips, her knuckles white.
Natasha continued her worship, kissing lower, tracing the tight swell of Wanda’s balls with the tip of her tongue before finally, torturously, taking just the slick head into her mouth.
“Oh, fuck,” Wanda gasped, her hips twitching forward.
“Slow,” you reminded them both, your own heart pounding at the authority in your voice.
Your hands skimmed the sweat-slick planes of her back before crawling beneath her. She glanced down, straddling you properly.
“Don’t let her come, Nat. Make her beg for it.”
Natasha nodded, a tiny, eager motion, and sucked with deliberate, languid pressure.
Wanda shuddered, her thrusts becoming shallow, involuntary pulses.
Natasha’s breasts hung down on your face.
Without hesitation, you took her nipple in your mouth, holding her waist as you sucked.
Natasha gasped, a soft sigh of pleasure leaving her as she continued to work her head on Wanda.
“Slow down, kitty,” Your voice came out muffled by her skin.
Natasha gripped you shoulders, letting her mouth do all the work.
You moved to the other breast, biting gently on her hard nipple, before soothing it with your tongue.
Her nails dug into your skin as her head came off to rest on Wanda’s thigh, looking down at you, panting.
She smiled at the sight of you, cupping the back of your head to pull you closer.
She moved again, looking up at an impatient and needy Wanda.
You heard Wanda’s breath deepen.
She’s close.
You guided Natasha off you before kneeling beside her.
Wanda’s eyes were locked onto Natasha’s.
Her hands now gripped her lover's wild hair.
The low, continuous moan building in Wanda’s throat broke into a sharp cry, her eyes closing.
Her hips stuttered, and she came with a force that made her thighs tremble, her release pulsing into Natasha’s waiting mouth.
Silence fell, dense and complete, broken only by the struggle for air.
Wanda’s hands slowly loosened their death-grip in Natasha’s hair, her fingers instead carding through it in a shaky, tender apology.
Natasha then turned to you, letting you taste Wanda’s salty semen.
You moaned into it, deepening it by cupping her cheeks.
“Look at you two…” You pulled away, blushing and wiping your mouth.
Wanda sank onto the bed, pulling Natasha with her, who curled immediately into her side, spent and smiling.
Wanda pecked her lips, fingers pulling away damp red hairs from Natasha’s forehead.
You stayed where you were for a moment.
On your two best friends' bed.
The reality of what just happened crashing into you like a delayed wave.
“Okay,” Wanda finally said, her voice hoarse and wonderfully wrecked.
She reached out a hand, her fingers brushing your cheek.
A breathless laugh escaped you, part relief, part disbelief.
You took her hand, letting her pull you into the space on Natasha’s other side.
The three of you fit together in a tangle of limbs on the damp sheets.
“Movies over,” Natasha murmured into Wanda’s warm shoulder.
You hummed, glancing over at them.
“I think this was the better act.”
Wanda snorted, keeping her eyes on you.
You nibbled on your lip and moved hesitantly closer to them.
They immediately accepted you, clearly not ready to let you leave just yet.
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@tobiaslut
@toe19
@introverted-author
