Drabbletag - Hurting
Title: Splint
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Hurting
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Maria/Natasha
Rating: R
Word count: 250
Natasha’s teeth are gritted, her jaw a line of tension. Maria tries not to look, tries to focus on wrapping Natasha’s ankle. The skin is swollen and shiny beneath her fingers, already turning dark with bruises. Probably fractured.
They just need to hold out a little longer, get to the extraction point. Maria keeps repeating it in her mind, trying to convince herself it’s helping, that it’s settling the anger in her chest, even though she knows it isn’t.
Natasha’s hands are curled into fists. There’s sweat across her chest, and she breathes out slowly when Maria gently lowers the ankle on to her lap.
“All done,” she says quietly, eyes sweeping over the blood across Natasha’s eyebrow, the graze along her right arm.
Natasha looks down at her, lips curving into a shaky smirk. “Not gonna kiss it better, Hill?” she murmurs, voice croaky but playful.
“No,” Maria tells her, hand reaching out to squeeze Natasha’s fingers. “But when we get back, I’m going to stretch you out on my bed, prop your stupid ankle up on about fifty cushions.” Natasha laughs, and Maria holds her hand a little tighter. “And then I’m going to eat you out for an entire fucking hour. I’m not going to stop until my jaw gets numb, until you forget your own damn name!”
Natasha lets out a low appreciative noise. “You’ve got one hell of a bedside manner,” she grins.
“I know,” Maria deadpans. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Hurting
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Maria/Natasha
Rating: R
Word count: 250
Natasha’s teeth are gritted, her jaw a line of tension. Maria tries not to look, tries to focus on wrapping Natasha’s ankle. The skin is swollen and shiny beneath her fingers, already turning dark with bruises. Probably fractured.
They just need to hold out a little longer, get to the extraction point. Maria keeps repeating it in her mind, trying to convince herself it’s helping, that it’s settling the anger in her chest, even though she knows it isn’t.
Natasha’s hands are curled into fists. There’s sweat across her chest, and she breathes out slowly when Maria gently lowers the ankle on to her lap.
“All done,” she says quietly, eyes sweeping over the blood across Natasha’s eyebrow, the graze along her right arm.
Natasha looks down at her, lips curving into a shaky smirk. “Not gonna kiss it better, Hill?” she murmurs, voice croaky but playful.
“No,” Maria tells her, hand reaching out to squeeze Natasha’s fingers. “But when we get back, I’m going to stretch you out on my bed, prop your stupid ankle up on about fifty cushions.” Natasha laughs, and Maria holds her hand a little tighter. “And then I’m going to eat you out for an entire fucking hour. I’m not going to stop until my jaw gets numb, until you forget your own damn name!”
Natasha lets out a low appreciative noise. “You’ve got one hell of a bedside manner,” she grins.
“I know,” Maria deadpans. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”