Insatiable Habits

Cleanliness

You slam your closed fist against the metal you lay atop, squirming under the sting of the disinfectant Wanda wipes gently across your back. She drags the cloth slowly along your slashes, wiping up stray blood with dry tissue as she preps you for stitching. She unhooks the clip of your bra, while looking to Natasha for approval - which she silently gives, somewhat reluctantly. Once the dirt and debris had been cleared from the area, there was seen to be three clear slashes in need of stitches and some minor cuts that would heal on their own.
As Wanda readied the needle, Natasha sat back on a bench as Steve wrapped her limp leg in dressing, handing her muscle balm for later. Wanda pinched your skin together as you winced in agony, screwing your face and tensing as you slid down the board. Natasha stood, holding your ribs in her hands to keep you still as Wanda stitched as quickly as she could.
"I'm sorry, Wanda. It just hurts."
She laid a cold wet towel over your first complete stitching, before gently patting it down.
"It's okay, darling. I understand."
She moved onto the next, but Natasha pulled your focus away from the pain, onto her.
"You did good out there today, soldier."
You grinned at her softly, or as much as you could, considering the torment you were experiencing.
"I'm not a soldier, silly."
She tucked stray hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead.
"Well you acted like one. All selfless and everything. I'd slap you for being stupid but you did save me so..."
By the time you managed to detach your brain from swooning over Natasha, Wanda rubbed your lower back, redid your bra and leant down to your level.
"All done."
She kissed your head and helped you stand.
"God the scar this is gonna leave..."  You ran your hands along your shoulders, feeling the tips of the stitching across your fingertips. Upon standing you noticed the entrance of the jet still left open, nightfall bleeding through the open space. Steve rose from his seat and made his way to you, carefully pulling you into him.
"We'll stay in the jet tonight. Let the Wakandan's recoup. Figure out the rest tomorrow."
His head tilted downwards, directing speech to you.
"Glad you're okay, kid."

Natasha takes you from his grip, suddenly aware of the fact you are thinly clad and wanting to remove you from the eyes of her teammates. She bids the group goodnight as everyone departs to their respective rooms. As you enter your shared room, she appears to be overly careful in her touch and step, anxious about your injuries.
You giggle at her exaggerated sense of her own movement, which draws a humoured, disapproving nod from Natasha.
"You coming to bed ?" she queries, as she strips off into nothing but her underwear.
Your mind wanders, yet you retreat the thoughts.
Stop being inappropriate, you chide yourself internally - glad that Natasha doesn't possess Wanda's telepathy.
"I need a shower, I'll join you after." you tell her, eyeing her up and down as she climbs beneath the sheets.
You turn and walk while unclasping your bra, letting it fall before quickly shutting the door behind you. Biting your lip as you turn the lock.
You bend slowly, rolling down the rest of the suit and leaving it in a pile to tend to later. You also take off your ring, leaving it on the heap - saving it from tarnishing.
Turning the shower's dial, you set the water to hot and gauge the droplets with your fingers before stepping into the stream. As the water hits your back, you groan at the sensation rolling along your fresh stitches, creating a sore itch in the respective areas of your injury. You press your head against the wall, panting as the pain aches and subsides repeatedly. Picking up a generic soap, you wash yourself down, yet find it difficult to reach back to the area that actually needs cleaned. You continually wince and whimper as pain shoots through you periodically, your chest rising and falling with the ache.
Attempting to conceal your whines, you bite your fist, leaning against the shower wall.
Your attention is diverted by the sound of the lock being undone, the bathroom door creaking open, a familiar female figure slipping in. You keep your body faced forward, leaning, only to turn your head. She stood before the clear shower divider, reaching behind her back - dropping her bra, before crouching to slip off her underwear, leaving her stripped.
You turned back to face the shower head as Natasha joined you - your back facing her. She stepped forward, her front just inches from you. The heat of her body drifted into your skin as she ran her fingers up your waist and round your stomach, pulling you into her. Your breath hitched at the movement, a mix of stinging in your injuries and pent up frustration released as you finally feel yourself against Natasha's skin again. You groaned lowly at her body against yours. Her fingers caress the stitches, your head tilting back at her tender touch - whimpering between the pain and pleasure. She kisses your neck, sucking to bruise, spinning you slowly by your waist so that you're now facing her. Natasha eyes you up and down before pulling you into a deep kiss, her tongue immediately pressed into your mouth. You kiss back, nipping her lip while pulling away as you run your hands up her waist, along her ribs, cupping her tits in your palms - running your thumbs across her nipples.
"Fuck." She breathes heavily into your mouth, a small moan escaping her throat as the water trickles down your shoulders. Natasha guides you into another kiss, as your hands leave her nipples, trailing downward, your lips meeting hers. You turn her, pressing her back against the wall, holding her jaw with your left hand as you lift her thigh with your right - parting your legs as you move your lap between them. She grips the back of your neck, opening her mouth, sticking out her tongue - silently requesting your spit down her throat, to which you comply. She swallows before pushing your head, guiding you to where she needs you to be.
"Don't tease me." she whines. You slowly crouch below her, propping her leg upon your shoulder as you spread her open. She wastes no time in forcing you forward as she thrusts herself into your mouth. You pull away and grin up at her, wallowing in her desperation, her neediness.
A side to Natasha Romanoff reserved solely for you.
"You're so wet already."
She glared down at you, eyes filled with raw sexual lust and frustration as she pouted for you to continue. With another push from Natasha, you licked a slow, soft line from her entrance, through her soaking folds, stopping at her clit - sucking her aching arousal into your mouth. Her breathing deepened at the sensation, her ribs inflating and subsiding to the rhythm of your tongue as she bit her lip, cautious of noise due to the proximity of the other Avengers. She whimpered and moaned above you, stifling them herself into the back of her hand as her other rested softly on your jaw. You ran your fingers up her leg, as they tightened round your head. You touched her entrance softly, the juices of her arousal slicking your fingers. Sliding one in softly, you noticed her breath hitch and her grip on your face grow stronger - her fingers digging into the back of your neck.
"God, please fuck me. Harder."
You added another, then a third and began pumping in and out of Natasha. She moaned your name, unable to restrain or control her volume - the sounds of her pleasure and periodic begging becoming coherent, melting into one another.
"Please." She pleaded, as her grip grew even tighter, her pussy pulsating round your fingertips. She was close.
Usually, you'd pull away - make her beg, wait, edge - but you thought she deserved rewarding, especially this time.
You drove your fingers deeper as she whined uncontrollably above you.
"I'm so close...fuck, Y/N."
You turn your eyes up to her, mouth still glued to her clit. She peered down at you, mouth open, whimpering as the water continued to drip through her hair, down her chest and over her nipples.
Her legs tightened in finality as a series of lustful moans escaped her throat. Still facing you, she came with your mouth remaining on her pussy, as you lapped up the sweet taste of her finish, removing your fingers from her, leaving her empty once again.
Slowly, Natasha moved her leg from your shoulder and guided you up to meet her, wherein she grabbed your hand, running her tongue across the very fingers which had been insider her - taking the coating of cum for herself. Leaning over, she turned the shower dial and the water stopped. Holding you, she dragged you out, lips meeting halfway.
Her tongue pressed to her cheek as she examined your body in the exposure of the bathroom, she lifted a towel to your neck and gestured for you to turn. She then carefully dabbed your stitches dry, touching her lips to the surrounding area as she went. Once reaching the base of your back, she wrapped the towel round your waist, her hands clasping at your stomach as she laid her head against the back of your neck.
"God. I'm never gonna find someone like you."
You give a half suppresses laugh at the comment, turning to face her.
"You better not."