Why am I always tired?

Natasha rarely failed at a mission, and when she did, it was always salvageable in some way or another. The consequences rarely affected her directly, and if they did, she’d still get through.

This time, however, she could feel the said consequences in the chill creeping up her spine, in the damp seeping into her feet and numbing every extremity. She didn’t have long left. Her energy was waning, and it was becoming difficult to move. Soon, frostbite would take its hold, sacrificing a limb at a time until the blood froze in her veins and her heart stopped pumping.

She’d racked her brains for every ounce of training, mentally replaying each lesson and experience, but found her preparation for this situation sorely lacking. Natasha had done everything she could. She’d done well to even last this long.

And as her internal organs started to shut down, her brain falling into a freezing fog and quelling down the sense of panic at the prospect of death, she would refuse to admit this was a failure. Natasha had lived longer than she’d expected. During her time at the Red Room, every day felt like her last. Following graduation, each mission risked a swift and merciless end. Her recent role as an Avenger only heightened this possibility. No. Natasha hadn’t failed…

Her eyes had been screwed shut for longer than she could remember, and the snow pelting her face had long since lost its effect. As she huddled, knees to her chest to preserve any remaining body heat, the crude attempt at a shelter collapsing all around her, she realised she felt suddenly warm. Burning up. This was it, the final stage of freezing to death. Yet, she ignored all her mind told her to do, remaining as still as the icicles forming all around her.

And then.

“Natasha!”

A voice on the breeze. A hallucination, surely. Some kind of religious relief beckoning her to the afterlife, hopefully.

“Nat!”

It was familiar to her, but her muddled mind couldn’t quite place why. All sense told her not to move, though curiosity peeked through her survival instincts. Natasha cracked open an eye, feeling like it was defrosting despite the cold air now brushing its surface.

A figure moving towards her. Black against the white snow. A blur of motion. But most importantly, real.

The figure approached her at an urgent pace, snow sent flying all around them as they trudged through the knee-high white blanket. The figure crouched down in front of her, hands reaching out to touch her shoulders, imploring her to move. The touch filled her with life, not warmth, but a cold shake that reminded her she was still alive.

Both her eyes were open now, blinking away the doziness.

“Nat, please. Say something. Do something. Anything.”

The figure was out of breath, fear filling their eyes as they regarded her. God, she must’ve looked rough. She wished colour would return to her cheeks so that they would not be so concerned. Willing her lips to move sent sparks of pain scattering across the surface of her skin, but something deep inside her chest told her she had to reply. Had to soothe your worry.

“I…” Her lips numb, her voice cracking.

You stared at her pleadingly, caringly. Natasha wished she could remember the details lingering just out of her periphery. Deep down, she knew who you were, why you were here, but her brain wasn’t functioning properly.

“Thank you.” Was all she managed instead, watching tears pool in the corner of your eyes and hoping the liquid wouldn’t freeze there.

“Come on.” You moved abruptly, further than she had dared to venture.

She was jealous of how easily movement came to you. Her limbs were stiff, forcing her to be still and save energy. But she trusted you, noticing the care with which you laced your arm under her own, hauled her up from the cold, soft ground, and into the harsh beating of the wind. In the distance, a helicopter, its propellers spinning in a blur of grey, whipping the snow into a frenzy. Finally, her instincts kicked in as she lunged towards it.

“One step at a time.” You chided beside her, rushing forward for support. Without you, she would have fallen straight to the ground. If she did, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get up again.

Each slow step forward was painfully cold, each muscle aching from the endless shivering. You were practically holding her up.

“God, I don’t know how you survived this long…” You murmured. “But not long now, not much further.”

And you were right. A few more stumbling steps that felt like a lifetime, and she was crashing against the vehicle, fingers tense against the cool metal surface. You lifted her up, guided her from hands and knees to collapse against a seat- warm and soft. There was a slam that made her jump as you tugged the door shut, and then, a gentle whirring sound as the helicopter kicked into life.

“How the fuck is she alive?” Another voice, a man’s from the pilot’s cockpit, barely audible.

Natasha was unwilling to grace him with an answer, even if she was mildly offended at the disbelief in his voice. It hadn’t been that long, had it? There was a brush against her ears as she realised you were tugging a pair of headphones over her ears, protecting her from the deafening roar as you took off. She wanted to thank you again, but the heat circulating inside stung her, silenced her.

“Just get us out of here!” was your eventual response, shrill through the microphone, laced with frustration.

“Alright. It’s about a half an hour journey back to base.”

True to his word, the ground was growing further away out the window, transforming into a white blur below. Her sanctuary for the last day was disappearing from view, and Natasha found herself suddenly unmoored. Flashes of memories filtered back into her consciousness, each one a new form of nightmare. The HYDRA base they had been investigating out in the wilderness turned out to be a trap. Natasha’s partners on the mission hadn’t gotten away in time, and she had no choice but to flee, pursued by HYDRA agents further and further into the vast wintry desert. There hadn’t been time to note the direction or distance of travel.

Lost soon became an understatement... But now, the scream of the helicopter’s engine rang in her ears, a stark reflection of the other agent’s final moments. It had been hellish. Her chest hung low with a sense of failure.

Yet, one memory brought back a sense of safety: you. Natasha remembered being endlessly grateful that you hadn’t been selected for this mission. She had a bad feeling about it from the start, proven correct in her instincts. Now, sitting beside her, your gaze was fixed on the window, but she could see you chewing your lip anxiously.

Natasha was tired, but most importantly, she was safe. As sleep began to take its hold, she felt herself leaning into your side. You jolted at first, then, feeling her relax against you, encircled an arm around her waist and held her there tightly.

~~~

The crackling of the fireplace was mesmerising, a warmth reflected in the amber of Natasha’s drink, equally as warming when she tossed back another mouthful. Stark had insisted that escaping near death was drink worthy, even if her eyes were threatening to close with every blink. Snow continued to fall outside the large windows, visible now even long after the sun had set.

Being on the inside looking out was a lot more pleasant than freezing to death, she mused.

While conducting a search party for Natasha, SHIELD had taken over a local ski resort. It was a big empty place, and yet it wasn’t cavernous or cold. The wooden structure perpetuated a homely feel, and the marble floors adorned with large Persian rugs suggested it was usually a retreat for the wealthy. A selection of worn leather armchairs and tattered sofas- the kind you simply melted into- were all arranged around the grand fireplace. There was a reception desk in her periphery, marking it as the foyer.

She had been directed to her private room earlier, normally a suite for some ungrateful millionaire. The bed there was much fancier than the freezing cold ground, the large quilted duvet more appealing than the blanket of snow she had suffered the last few days. She would’ve been perfectly content to collapse and recuperate in there. Alas, the entire Avengers team had opted to pause whatever they were doing and join SHIELD in searching for her. Natasha reluctantly admitted she was touched by the thought.

The SHIELD brigade had since packed up following her return to civilisation, efficient as always. Thus, the building was as drained of life as Natasha felt, leaving only herself, Tony, Bruce, Clint and Y/N to make use of the fireplace. Conversation had dwindled a few minutes ago, melting into a comforting exhaustion. The sensation of sitting down after a long day, knowing that you wouldn’t have to get up again... Except it hadn’t just been a long day. It had been ten days. Natasha had lost all pretence of time out there in the wilderness.

A thorough examination by the top SHIELD medics showed the toll it had taken on her body, and she set herself the task of not dwelling on it, so that her mind would not follow suit.

That exclamation of, “How the fuck is she alive?” was beginning to make a lot more sense.

Reminded of the journey back, Natasha glanced to her left. You were sharing the same sofa, leaning on the far-left side, closer to the fire. Your gaze was determinedly fixed on the fireplace, an attempt to seem nonchalant, but Natasha could see how this was merely an act. Your brow was furrowed, hands were clasped so tightly around a glass that she could see the strained outline of your knuckles poking through your skin.

Apparently, having noticed her staring, you cleared your throat.

“I think I’m going to head to bed.” You started gathering yourself together, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“Alright...” Bruce was the first to answer.

The rest all watched you stand in a pensive silence. You were often the first to join and the last to leave, basking in the rare time you all got sat together. You were usually chatty, reserved, but funny. Tonight you had been mute.

“Night, guys. Don’t stay up too late.” You appeared to sweep across the room with an easy smile, bidding everyone goodnight, but again you remained unfocused. Your smile was forced.

There was a general murmured response, and then you were gone. Footsteps echoed through the main lobby, and somewhere in the distance, the gentle click of a door shutting. The air besides Natasha was cooler now. She shivered, shuffling closer to the fire, feeling the warmth of where you had been sitting.

“You know…” Clint began, then trailed off, a sheepish expression about him. “Y/N was the last one looking for you.” He confessed suddenly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he continued watching the fire dance and crackle.

Natasha’s lips drew into a taut line as she considered his words, the implication behind them.

Tony nodded, prompting Clint to continue.

“Long after we all thought you were dead. You should’ve been dead.” Clint ranted, assuaging his own guilt more than anything. “I mean, all the experts SHIELD brought in were telling us to presume you were dead. The odds of surviving out there… in those conditions… Well, one in a million…” He fell quiet again.

“Point is,” Tony leaned forward in his seat, catching Natasha’s full attention. “Y/N never stopped looking for you. We were all starting to pack up, and meanwhile, she was bribing a SHIELD pilot to fly her out for one more day. I mean, that’s probably why she’s so exhausted now… When have we known Y/N to be the first one to go to bed?”

Despite everything, Natasha smiled at this.

Being rescued was a hazy memory already, filed away into the part of her brain under lock and key- not to be touched unless absolutely necessary. But in the field of static white, she remembered you. The full black tactical suit a stark contrast against the snow. She ached then with the cold, and now at the concern in your expression. To have caused you such fear, that was Natasha’s greatest failure. Not the mission. Not the near-death experience. But the thought of harming you. The regret that she might’ve died without…

Her brain ground to a halt. She wouldn’t let herself get swept away in such imaginings.

The group had fallen silent again, but now, the pressure of several weighted gazes was resting upon her. She knew what realisation they were trying to push her towards. For all Clint’s hints, for Tony’s teasing and Bruce’s confused stares, none of them were subtle people. Surely, for them to not only notice how Natasha felt about you, but also to push her towards some bigger picture meant you must feel the same?

Natasha found herself sweating. The fire was too hot, the sofa beneath her too soft, and her friend’s persistence too much to handle.

“Well, it’s just as hard being the rescued as it is the rescuer.” She joked. No one reacted.

“I’m going to bed, too.” Natasha stood up, her bones aching from the recent strain. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

If anyone bid her goodnight, she didn’t hear it.

Apart from Tony settling back into the armchair with a sigh, and a murmured, “go get ‘em, tiger.”

At first, Natasha truly did mean to head to her bedroom, but her legs didn’t seem to carry her that way. The gentle sound of a door clicking was a subtle cue, but sufficient to make a gamble as to which room you were staying in. She paced down the corridor, purposefully neglecting to switch on any lights until she saw it: a gentle golden glow emanating from the crack beneath one of the doors. Your bedroom.

She halted in front of it. Gulped and tapped her knuckles against the wood. Two sharp, distinct knocks. Her mind hadn’t quite caught up with her actions yet, but it was too late for change, and too early for regret. All she wanted, all she needed, was you.

A second later, and the door creaked open, your face peeking through the gap. Illuminated by the warm bedside lamp, your face was glowing with a frustration that immediately melted to concern upon realising it was Natasha on the other side.

“Are you okay?” You swung the door open the rest of the way, allowing Natasha to notice that you had changed into pyjamas. Her heart involuntarily skipped a beat, and she found herself unable to answer. Her mouth was dry as she traced over the comfortable, informal clothing. It was a glimpse of you she rarely saw. “Nat?” You called, frown lines deepening.

“Uh, yeah.” Natasha shook her head and clasped her hands together in front of her. You observed every moment closely, as a trained agent should, to look for any sign of weakness. Or in this case, any pain that she might show to justify your concern. “I just didn’t want to be alone.” Natasha’s voice was low, her head bowed slightly.

Nerves weren’t something Natasha gave into often. Even on death’s door, she had felt largely calm. But now, with you standing before her, open and warm, it took everything in her not to shake. The air in the corridor was cold, and snow still fell outside.

“Of course,” you jolted into action, stepping aside, “come in.”

Entering your room was easy, one foot over the threshold at a time. Though it did nothing to lessen her nerves. If anything, they were heightened by your proximity. Liking someone wasn’t a sensation Natasha had ever experienced, let alone given in to. It was all unfamiliar territory. Yet, with you, warm familiarity bloomed throughout her body, soothed the aches in her muscles and the chill from her bones.

“Sit down.” You inclined your head towards your bed.

Natasha’s mouth was dry as she followed the instructions, perched tense on the far end. You sat next to her, slowly, softly. Natasha’s eyes darted up to you, oh so close, and if her gaze lingered on your lips for a beat too long, you didn’t mention it.

“I would ask if you’re alright, but I think I know the answer.” You muttered, unwilling to tear your eyes away from Natasha’s.

She smiled. “I’m better now.”

You mirrored the expression, then lowered your hands to the bed and scooted closer to her. Warmth always radiated from human contact, but yours was special.

You seemed to read her mind, your smile widening. “Warm enough?” You asked.

Natasha nodded. “Definitely…” More silence, and then, a gentle confession wormed its way from Natasha’s heart to the very tip of her tongue. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but the smile didn’t drop from your lips. “That’s alright. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

You raised a hand, and Natasha noted how you trembled, barely dared to breathe as it drew closer to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in, seeking more of that addictive heat you always radiated. Cold air was replaced by your lips, warm against her own. You huffed out a breath through your nose, a sigh of warm air fanning across her face. She brought her own hand to grasp your waist, fingers running along a sliver of warm skin there. Her stomach was twisting, burning in just the right way as the kiss deepened.

You were biting your lower lip as you tried to set your phone over the table. You kept bouncing your leg nervously as a tiny voice in your head told you how much in trouble you would be in as soon as your girlfriend made it back with your food. And maybe that voice was right, maybe your phone not staying in place was a sign for you to move on...

But you saw the trend and you had to try it with Natasha.

However, the thing about your super-hot spy girlfriend was that she sucked at these things. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t follow instructions down to the dot. None of that, she would if you just asked. But not before asking a lot of questions and taking away the fun out of it.

Your girlfriend was funny. She really was. But the redhead wasn’t chronically online like you were, so getting her to understand why certain trends were funny for civilians like yourself was a hard task.

And you found an easy fix. A risky one too. Because recording Natasha to see her natural reaction could be funnier than expected, a total failure or something that got you in so much trouble that the rest of the Avengers wouldn’t see you for two days.

This one was harmless, though. Or so you told yourself when you finally managed to set the phone properly.

The redhead came back with a plastic tray, ignoring curious glances that followed her silently as she balanced your food carefully with the tip of her tongue darting out as a sign of her concentration.

“They’ve got milkshakes. And I know your favourite is the strawberry one, but I also know your period is close so you could magically be into the chocolate one. So, I bought all four flavours” Natasha announced when she arrived at the table, her eyes twinkling with that sweet devotion that was only reserved for you.

You chuckled “And people dare to call you scary” you smirked and the redhead rolled her eyes, ready to sit across from you until you tutted “What are you doing?”

“I want to eat? I’m famished” she replied and you shook your head.

“Yes, I know that. I mean what are you doing over there when there’s a seat next to me?” you insisted and Natasha smiled, already walking around the table to sit next to you and you hummed contently “So much better”

The redhead leaned and pecked your cheek, as if there weren’t several people around you that were pretending they weren’t looking at you with that same curiosity your girlfriend always attracted.

You couldn’t blame her. The world truly believed she was as scary as she looked in the news. And she could be, you’ve seen it more times than not but not in the way they thought.

“Am I supposed to ignore the phone that is recording?” Natasha whispered in your ear, and you giggled “Detka”

“It’s just a food review. Actually, would you help me with it?” you asked sweetly and the redhead started to shake her head “Please, please, please” you pouted and Natasha wanted to whine, feeling how her will-power abandoned her as it always did when it came to you and your cute face “It’s better this way, please”

“Fine, fine. What do you want me to do?”

It was scary how fast you came up with a whole dynamic knowing damn well you were about to poke the bear for views and likes. Natasha listened carefully while mentally scolding herself for letting you turn her into whatever version of herself that was.

The redhead would follow you to the gates of hell, that was a very scary fact. For her, at least.

“Okay, so we can try the milkshakes first!” you finally said, a smile so big that it reached your eyes that Natasha’s heart melted “You go first!”

“Fine, whatever” the redhead inhaled sharply and took a sip of the strawberry one, she hummed before passing it over to you “I think you won’t like it, it isn’t sugary enough and that’s why I love it”

“Let me see” you said with suspicion, grabbing a napkin and wiping the straw clean before taking a long sip. Natasha threw you a confused look, her green eyes now glued to your fingers as you held the straw against your lips “No, I think you can never go wrong with strawberry. It’s good, I would add more whipped cream”

“What was that?” the redhead asked, and you raised a brow with faux confusion.

“That maybe you are right? I need a little more sugar...”

“No, that’s not...” Natasha sighed and you waited patiently “Whatever, I’m probably hallucinating out of starvation. Which one is next?”  you chuckled and slid over the chocolate one. The redhead took a sip and scrunched her nose “Too sugary. I prefer dark chocolate”

“Yeah, yeah. My fit girlfriend, whatever” you teased her, ignoring the way your girlfriend was eyeing you when grabbing the napkin and cleaning the straw once again before taking a sip “I would’ve added chocolate syrup! Strawberry still my fave! Do you want to...”

“You did it again” Natasha furrowed her brows and you tilted your head.

“What?” you laughed softly “Let’s move to...” Natasha grabbed the vanilla shake and took a sip before giving it to you “Ooookay” you chuckled and cleaned the straw again, hearing her groan and taking the cup before you could take a sip “Natasha...”

You watched her lick the straw with her eyes glued to yours before passing the cup over once again. You feigned confusion, cleaning the straw again as the vein in your girlfriend’s forehead popped.

“What are you fucking doing?” she hissed, licking it again “Drink”

You chuckled nervously “I’m trying to” you cleaned it again and took a sip, listening to your girlfriend growl as one of her hands turned into a fist “Oh, this is actually...”

Natasha grabbed the cup and took a long sip, her movements faster than your mind because when you registered them, she was already pressing her fingers on your cheeks as your mouth fell open. You flinched when your girlfriend spat the milkshake in your mouth and closed it.

“Don’t you ever dare to that shit again” Natasha growled and wiped her lips clean, tutting when you tried to clean your face “You will stay like that” you tried to fight back, your cheeks burning as you felt your panties getting damped when her voice dropped impossibly lower “And once we get home, I will make sure you are fucking covered in my spit and my cum because you are fucking mine. Understood?”

“Yes, Tasha” you muttered, biting your lower lip as you stopped recording.

“Good girl. Now, eat”

And you did, because your girlfriend just nailed the trend, but she was also about to ruin your ability to walk for the next few days. Maybe she had a point, people do extremely stupid things for attention.

In this case, was it worth it?

You were biting your lower lip as you tried to set your phone over the table. You kept bouncing your leg nervously as a tiny voice in your head told you how much in trouble you would be in as soon as your girlfriend made it back with your food. And maybe that voice was right, maybe your phone not staying in place was a sign for you to move on...

But you saw the trend and you had to try it with Natasha.

However, the thing about your super-hot spy girlfriend was that she sucked at these things. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t follow instructions down to the dot. None of that, she would if you just asked. But not before asking a lot of questions and taking away the fun out of it.

Your girlfriend was funny. She really was. But the redhead wasn’t chronically online like you were, so getting her to understand why certain trends were funny for civilians like yourself was a hard task.

And you found an easy fix. A risky one too. Because recording Natasha to see her natural reaction could be funnier than expected, a total failure or something that got you in so much trouble that the rest of the Avengers wouldn’t see you for two days.

This one was harmless, though. Or so you told yourself when you finally managed to set the phone properly.

The redhead came back with a plastic tray, ignoring curious glances that followed her silently as she balanced your food carefully with the tip of her tongue darting out as a sign of her concentration.

“They’ve got milkshakes. And I know your favourite is the strawberry one, but I also know your period is close so you could magically be into the chocolate one. So, I bought all four flavours” Natasha announced when she arrived at the table, her eyes twinkling with that sweet devotion that was only reserved for you.

You chuckled “And people dare to call you scary” you smirked and the redhead rolled her eyes, ready to sit across from you until you tutted “What are you doing?”

“I want to eat? I’m famished” she replied and you shook your head.

“Yes, I know that. I mean what are you doing over there when there’s a seat next to me?” you insisted and Natasha smiled, already walking around the table to sit next to you and you hummed contently “So much better”

The redhead leaned and pecked your cheek, as if there weren’t several people around you that were pretending they weren’t looking at you with that same curiosity your girlfriend always attracted.

You couldn’t blame her. The world truly believed she was as scary as she looked in the news. And she could be, you’ve seen it more times than not but not in the way they thought.

“Am I supposed to ignore the phone that is recording?” Natasha whispered in your ear, and you giggled “Detka”

“It’s just a food review. Actually, would you help me with it?” you asked sweetly and the redhead started to shake her head “Please, please, please” you pouted and Natasha wanted to whine, feeling how her will-power abandoned her as it always did when it came to you and your cute face “It’s better this way, please”

“Fine, fine. What do you want me to do?”

It was scary how fast you came up with a whole dynamic knowing damn well you were about to poke the bear for views and likes. Natasha listened carefully while mentally scolding herself for letting you turn her into whatever version of herself that was.

The redhead would follow you to the gates of hell, that was a very scary fact. For her, at least.

“Okay, so we can try the milkshakes first!” you finally said, a smile so big that it reached your eyes that Natasha’s heart melted “You go first!”

“Fine, whatever” the redhead inhaled sharply and took a sip of the strawberry one, she hummed before passing it over to you “I think you won’t like it, it isn’t sugary enough and that’s why I love it”

“Let me see” you said with suspicion, grabbing a napkin and wiping the straw clean before taking a long sip. Natasha threw you a confused look, her green eyes now glued to your fingers as you held the straw against your lips “No, I think you can never go wrong with strawberry. It’s good, I would add more whipped cream”

“What was that?” the redhead asked, and you raised a brow with faux confusion.

“That maybe you are right? I need a little more sugar...”

“No, that’s not...” Natasha sighed and you waited patiently “Whatever, I’m probably hallucinating out of starvation. Which one is next?”  you chuckled and slid over the chocolate one. The redhead took a sip and scrunched her nose “Too sugary. I prefer dark chocolate”

“Yeah, yeah. My fit girlfriend, whatever” you teased her, ignoring the way your girlfriend was eyeing you when grabbing the napkin and cleaning the straw once again before taking a sip “I would’ve added chocolate syrup! Strawberry still my fave! Do you want to...”

“You did it again” Natasha furrowed her brows and you tilted your head.

“What?” you laughed softly “Let’s move to...” Natasha grabbed the vanilla shake and took a sip before giving it to you “Ooookay” you chuckled and cleaned the straw again, hearing her groan and taking the cup before you could take a sip “Natasha...”

You watched her lick the straw with her eyes glued to yours before passing the cup over once again. You feigned confusion, cleaning the straw again as the vein in your girlfriend’s forehead popped.

“What are you fucking doing?” she hissed, licking it again “Drink”

You chuckled nervously “I’m trying to” you cleaned it again and took a sip, listening to your girlfriend growl as one of her hands turned into a fist “Oh, this is actually...”

Natasha grabbed the cup and took a long sip, her movements faster than your mind because when you registered them, she was already pressing her fingers on your cheeks as your mouth fell open. You flinched when your girlfriend spat the milkshake in your mouth and closed it.

“Don’t you ever dare to that shit again” Natasha growled and wiped her lips clean, tutting when you tried to clean your face “You will stay like that” you tried to fight back, your cheeks burning as you felt your panties getting damped when her voice dropped impossibly lower “And once we get home, I will make sure you are fucking covered in my spit and my cum because you are fucking mine. Understood?”

“Yes, Tasha” you muttered, biting your lower lip as you stopped recording.

“Good girl. Now, eat”

And you did, because your girlfriend just nailed the trend, but she was also about to ruin your ability to walk for the next few days. Maybe she had a point, people do extremely stupid things for attention.

In this case, was it worth it?