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The love you held so tenderly in your heart for Natasha had somehow grown to include Wanda as the months came and passed and the weather changed just as quickly. You’d gone through seasons of scarves, of thin jackets and long layers, of bikinis and designer sunglasses. This new season was softer, sweeter, and you cherished where it would lead you as the leaves changed and the breeze carried a welcomed chill. Throughout the seasons of your love, there were things that had never grown on you despite the weight they held in your relationship. You’d still not found a love for gardening despite seeing Wanda through a plethora of projects and renovations since the barren ground of winter had become plush with moisture and sunlight, and you still couldn’t tolerate the sitcoms that she’d roped Natasha into adoring just as equally. You could compromise, find entertainment in their joy, but some things had remained only theirs throughout your relationship, and you’d find genuine peace with that. Still, there were nights where you tried to fit into their puzzle for two, attempted to merge the sliver of separation that harmed no one, but could feel quite isolating when all you desired was their silent company.
As you laid across Natasha, your head cradled between soft thighs in her lap, her fingers weaved into your hair that had been washed and blow dried affectionately just an hour earlier, you found a gentle peace in the laugh track that filled the living room with a delicate buzz and the lightness of the sound stages that brought forth an incandescent glow which turned soft colored eyes that you’d memorized since that first season of love where scarves had been wrapped around necks into dazzling specs of precious priceless gemstones. You hummed every so often, when her nails scratched at your scalp just right, but other than your soft noises of contentment, nobody spoke.
You’d only gone back to classes last week, and while the introduction period was calm as it always had been, the buzz of academic anticipation had exhausted you tremendously. Your senior year was here, firmly upon you whether you were ready to dive into it or not. This would truly be the turning point that would irreversibly contribute to your future, and the stress of coming out on top felt debilitating before it had even truly begun. Wanda and Natasha had simultaneously taken a plunge into organized chaos within the last seven days, now back in the office full time, although Natasha still prioritized working from home. Your routine had shifted since the season of bikinis and designed sunglasses, now filled with long sleeves and cozy shorts that didn’t dig into your belly during lectures, but there was something to look forward to in this new stage of navigating your relationship.
You were up earlier now most days – sparing Wednesdays which fortunately provided you a break – needing to be to campus by nine, having to leave at eight to ensure traffic didn’t set back your ambitious attempt to live off campus during the semester, which meant that you had a couple of soft, tender minutes to steal with Natasha before you really did have to start getting ready at seven. She never did come downstairs before you left for school, preferring to milk the absolute most out of her quiet mornings before she headed into the office across the hall, but you could count on stealing a kiss from Wanda who left within the same ten minutes of you, most times in the kitchen, after you’ve stolen a sip of her coffee that was always poured into the same stainless steel travel mug, but sometimes your departures aligned, and she’d walk you to the car with a gentle hand on the center of your back, and she’d kiss you sweetly before seeing you out of the driveway with an enthusiastic wave of encouragement. It was different, less entangled, but their soft company guided you through the mornings where it felt impossible to leave their side.
Saturdays had an unspoken promise to them now. Where Wanda had once prioritized not working so intensely on Fridays, wanting to spend that day with you and Natasha at home, she’d rearranged her schedule to assure that any leftover assignments were delegated between trusted employees that could handle and meet the standard of which their company strived to uphold. You’d done nothing short of nothing all day, starting with a cheap breakfast of frozen pancakes and strawberries that weren’t quite in season anymore, leading into a dip in the pool beneath wind rustling leaves, although you quickly realized that fall temperatures were not as appealing as summer, and despite the use of the heater that Natasha had cracked up to a mid-ninety, you scrambled out within minutes and cocooned yourself in a fluffy bath towel that provided more protection than a beach towel could. You’d ordered takeout for lunch, ate those leftovers for dinner, and soaked up every moment of company you could in between meals at the dining room table, knowing that eventually, you’d have deadlines to meet and they’d have cases to work even if you’d silently vowed to spend as much time as you could reconnecting on Saturdays.
When Natasha shifted beneath you, gently picking your head up from where it had rested in her lap for the last hour, you whined in discontentment, struggling against her tender hold to reclaim your position against her. She laughed softly in response, leaning down to lay a sweet kiss against your temple, before she slid out from beneath you entirely, stretching her arms above her head and revealing the milky skin of her belly that you couldn’t resist reaching out to poke. Without her fingers tangled into your hair, keeping you calm and stimulated against her warmth, the echoing laughter that played from the speakers scratched at your brain annoyingly. You sat up fully with a huff, criss crossing your legs as you looked at her glumly, unable to conceal your betrayal.
“Oh, I’m so mean, aren’t I?” She cooed softly, cupping your face to lay her lips against yours, leaving you with the taste of her chapstick against your tongue before she slipped away into the kitchen. The sounds of her filling up three different cups of water told you all that you needed to know, and begrudgingly you attempted to rise to your feet and follow her, wanting to help complete the routine she’d set for herself when you’d first moved in, but Wanda grabbing at your waist kept you confined to the living room and her presence alone.
“Nu uh, we’re not playing duckling tonight.” She teased softly, her fingers adorned with glimmering silver rings slipping beneath the shirt you’d stolen from her closet after you’d showered off the salted pool water that tarnished your softness, her blunt nails raking trails down your skin as she held you, keeping you from seeking out Natasha like you’d sought out to do. “You gonna come cuddle with me? Or am I not as good as Natty?” There was a wrinkle of lightness in her tone, a clear indication that she found great amusement in your clinginess that had been directed at her through the past season of bikinis and designer sunglasses.
“Not as good.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, although you melted into her within the same breath that you turned down her proposition, which prompted an affectionate chuckle and a kiss to be laid against your head. “Want Natty.” You grumbled, mindlessly grabbing at the hand that laid draped against your lap, keeping you pinned against her chest.
“Natty’s coming back. You’re stuck with me in the meantime.” She laughed, humming softly when you lifted her hand to your lips and kissed at each glimmering knuckle, the cool metal against your lips a refreshing addition of stimulation, although that quickly found a way to become a reason for you to wrap your tongue around her pointer finger and give an experimental suckle. “Ah, so that’s your problem. My sitcoms still boring you, detka?” Wanda teased, playfully pressing down against your tongue, startling you as you gagged softly in response, wide eyes flittering upward to meet hers.
You nodded softly, a crinkle in your nose an amusing sight as you sat entangled with her limbs, teeth nibbling affectionately on her pointer finger, not willing to let it go. “Well, let's fix that then, hm?” You whined softly when she removed her finger from your possessive hold, but sank two in place of the one that you’d clung to, pacifying your restlessness. “There we go, that’s better isn’t it, moya lyubov?”
You nodded softly, sinking further into Wanda, mindlessly watching whatever sitcom had stolen both her and Natasha’s interest as you suckled and chewed on her fingers. When Natasha came back, you hardly noticed, too entranced with the sensation of cold metal against your tongue.
“It sucks not having you both home with me, but I can get used to this.” She sighed softly, her hand coming to rest on your thigh, keeping you pinned between their bodies equally.