#blackwidow

pairing:  Natasha Romanoff x Reader

summary: one drink turns into several. you accuse a very patient stranger of kidnapping you. unfortunately, she’s your wife.

tags/warnings: established relationship, married couple, drunk reader, funny drunk, chaos night out, protective Nat, Wanda is TIRED, accidental flirting, domestic fluff,reader has no survival instincts.

author's note:  hi 🤍 i’m supposed to be studying for my exam on thursday (as i said, supposed), but somehow this turned into me projecting my inability to drink responsibly onto reader. that one’s on me. Wanda being done with everyone and Natasha having infinite patience felt inevitable.

english isn’t my first language, so please be kind. i’d love to hear what you think, comments always make my day.

You’re halfway through putting on your jacket when Natasha looks up from the couch.

“You’re not wearing heels.” she notes.

You freeze mid-zip. Slowly turn. “Why does that sound like an accusation?”

“It’s an observation,” she says calmly. Too calmly. “When you don’t wear heels, you drink more.”

“That is fake data.”

Natasha smiles like she has spreadsheets.

You narrow your eyes. “You cannot possibly have—”

“I have charts,” she says. “Trends. A very upsetting bar graph.”

You laugh, walking back toward her. “I am going out for one drink.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Two,” you amend. “Max.”

Nat stands, steps into your space, and fixes your collar with unnecessary precision. “Text me when you’re done,” she says. “I’ll pick you up.”

“I can Uber.”

“Absolutely not,” she says. “I’m picking you up.”

You grin. “You’re obsessed with me.”

“You're my wife, so yes.” she agrees easily.

You lean in, kiss her—soft at first, familiar, then deeper because she hums against your mouth and her hand slides to your waist like it belongs there. Because it does.

She pulls back just enough to murmur, “Behave.”

You smile sweetly. “Never.”

Two hours later, the bar is loud, sticky, and absolutely not designed for the amount of chaos currently occurring inside it.

Everyone said just one round.

Everyone lied.

One drink becomes two. Two becomes celebratory. Wanda is sipping slower than everyone else, Maria is already laughing too loud, and Carol has decided tonight is a physical challenge night.

“Carol,” Wanda says, blinking slowly. “Why are you on the floor?”

“For pride…” Carol says, already lowering herself.

“I can do twenty push-ups!” Carol announces.

A group of random men at the next table perk up immediately.

“I’ll do thirty.” one of them says.

Carol cracks her knuckles. “Count me in.”

You’re half-slouched on the couch, cheering with full confidence and zero balance.

You clap weakly from the couch. “GO MUSCLE LADY!”

“FIVE—” Carol shouts.

Wanda? absolutely done.

She’s seated at the table, nursing the same drink she’s had for an hour, eyes glazed with the resigned patience of someone babysitting a disaster.

You’re on your third—fourth?—drink, perched dramatically on a barstool, telling a bartender a very emotional story about how your wife once reorganized the entire spice rack alphabetically and you’ve never recovered.

“And she smiled,” you whisper, hand over heart. “Like it was normal.”

The bartender nods solemnly. “That’s terrifying.”

“It was hot.” you correct. “But terrifying.”

Then, across the room, Wanda watches you stand on a chair to cheer Carol on.

“Ten! Eleven! Twelve! CAROL YOU’RE A NATIONAL TREASURE—”

Carol collapses onto the floor, laughing. The men look like they might pass out.

Wanda sighs, pulls out her phone.

Natasha is halfway through paperwork when her phone rings.

She answers immediately. “Is she okay?”

Wanda doesn’t bother with greetings. “Well…she’s not hurt.”

“Wanda...”

“She is, however, extremely drunk.”

Nat exhales through her nose. “Where are you?”

She gives the address.

“I’m on my way.”

“She says she’s married,” Wanda adds.

Nat pauses. “…Yes.”

“And that she’s waiting for her wife.”

Nat closes her eyes. “I’ll be there in ten.”

You’re mid-sentence—something about proposing to your wife again because she deserves it—when Wanda touches your arm.

“She’s coming.”

You blink. “Who?”

“Wife.” Wanda says flatly.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “My wife.”

“Yes,” Wanda replies. “That one.”

You frown. “You’re confusing me.”

“I know.”

Wanda glances at the door, then at you.

“Okay. Show’s over.”

Natasha walks in.

Nat laughs the second she sees you.

“Oh, you’re funny drunk,” she murmurs. “I forgot about this version.”

You spot her immediately. You always do.

Your face lights up like she personally invented electricity.

“Ooooh,” you breathe. “She’s pretty.”

Nat steps closer. “Hey, baby. Ready to go home?”

You recoil like she’s crossed a line.

“Absolutely not,” you say. “I’m married.”

“Yes,” Nat replies patiently. “To me.”

You gasp.

“Nonono,” you say, shaking your head. “My wife is hot.”

Nat smirks. “Correct.”

“And intimidating,” you add. “And she would never approach me like this.”

Wanda points at Nat. “That’s literally her.”

You shake your head. “Nonono. Don’t confuse me. She’s blonde.”

Nat’s smile turns wicked. “You’re married to a redhead.”

You lean closer, squinting harder. “That is exactly what a stranger would say.”

She sighs fondly. “You’re impossible.” “I will scream.” you warn.

Before you can react, she grabs you—efficient, practiced—and hoists you over her shoulder like you weigh nothing.

Maria chokes on her drink. Wanda laughs so hard she has to grab the counter. Someone whistles. 

“HEY—” you protest, dangling upside down. “Put me DOWN. I don’t KNOW you.”

Nat pats your leg. “Relax.”

“I’M BEING KIDNAPPED.” you announce to the room. “BY A… VERY ATTRACTIVE WOMAN.”

“Your wife.” Wanda says.

“I will be reporting this,” you insist. “To my wife!”

Nat starts walking toward the door, unfazed.

You squeal.

“HEY—” you smack her back weakly. “Wanda! WANDA I’M BEING TAKEN.”

Nat gives your ass a firm pat. “Behave.”

You gasp. Loudly. “SHE TOUCHED ME.”

“That's my ass,” Nat says calmly. “I’m allowed.”

“She’s gonna be so mad,” you continue. “She doesn’t like strangers touching me like that.”

Nat adjusts you higher on her shoulder. “She’ll survive.”

“I don’t know that.” you argue, upside down.

Carol waves happily from the floor. “Bye!”

The car ride home is… a lot.

You’re slouched in the passenger seat, gazing at Natasha like she hung the moon.

“You drive so well,” you say.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very strong.”

“I know.”

Five minutes pass.

Then you turn your head.

“…You’re very pretty,” you say thoughtfully.

Nat smiles without looking over. “Drink your water.”

“And your arms,” you continue. “They’re… disrespectful.”

She laughs softly. “Careful.”

You lean close, lowering your voice like it’s confidential.

“If I wasn’t married,” you say, “I would absolutely flirt with you.”

“Oh?” Nat glances at you.

“Yes. But I’m a faithful woman.”

“Good to know.”

You lean closer. “Are you single.”

She laughs. “No.”

“That’s a shame,” you say sadly. “My wife would hate you.”

Nat glances at you. “Why?”

“Because I’m flirting with you.”

You suddenly freeze. Eyes widening.

“Oh my God.”

Nat raises an eyebrow. “What.”

“I cheated,” you whisper.

She blinks. “You did not.”

“I emotionally cheated,” you insist. “With… you.”

Nat bites her lip, trying not to laugh. “Baby…”

You clutch your chest. “She’s going to be devastated.”

“I think she’ll survive.”

“No,” you say solemnly. “She loves me.”

Nat reaches over, laces her fingers with yours. “I love you.”

You stare at her hand. At her face.

“…Wait.”

The realization hits you like a freight train.

“Oh.”

She smiles gently. “Hi.”

“You’re my wife.”

“Yes.”

“I flirted with you.”

“Yes.”

You think for a moment. “That’s okay then.”

Nat laughs so hard she has to pull over.

At home, she changes you into comfy clothes while you narrate everything.

“These are my pants,” you inform her. “They are very soft.”

“I know,” she says. “I bought them.”

You pause. “…You’re incredible.”

She tucks you into bed.

You immediately sit up. “Wait...”

“What?”

“You still haven’t proven you’re my wife.”

Nat arches an eyebrow. “How would you like me to do that?”

You think hard. Way too hard.

“…Show me your scar.”

She lifts her shirt just enough to reveal it.

You gasp. “MY WIFE.”

She smiles. “Sleep.”

Morning comes with consequences.

Your head is pounding. The light is offensive. Your mouth tastes like regret.

Nat is already awake, sipping coffee, watching you with entirely too much amusement.

You groan. “Why are you smiling?”

“You told a stranger you’d report me to your wife.”

You bury your face in the pillow. “Did you… did you carry me.”

“Yes.”

“And then?...”

She smirks. “I patted your ass.”

Your eyes fly open.

“You did WHAT??????”

She leans down, kisses you slow and smug. “You didn’t complain.”

You groan again. “Next time I’m wearing heels.”

Masterlist here

word count: 800 warnings: none A/n: This was the first one-shot I published, and I think it's very cute, so enjoy! written: June 20, 2024

* . °•★|•°∵ SECRETIVE ∵°•|☆•° . *

NATASHA'S POV

"Nat, why can't we know where you are going tonight?" Tony whines as I leave the compound without giving them a reason for the third time this week.

I understand that they want to know what I do in my free time as I was normally always training in the compound.

But a little privacy is needed sometimes.

So I roll my eyes and take my bag to leave.

- "Please Nat I'm your best friend! Just tell me, you can trust me," Clint asks as we sit alone in the living room.

"I know I can trust you, but I won't tell you,"

-

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: After your breakup with Wanda, Natasha takes care of you… good care…

Warnings: oneshot, drunk Natasha, SMUT, +18, MDNI ! drunk sex, breakup mention, short one, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), multiple orgasm, kinda overstimulation.

Note: Hey guy, it has been long time since last post. As always… English isn’t my first language sp im sorry for all mistakes. This year I have my finals so it’s hard to find time for hobbies but I hope I’ll find more time to write some stuff. If you have any ideas for next shots or stories m requests are open, or if you want to yapp a little I’m also here. <3

No one is allowed to copy, translate or pubish my work as their own!

The life of an Avengers was never easy. As soon as you started your relationship with Wanda, you felt like you had found everything you needed, almost like you had grabbed God by the legs. However, as it quickly turned out, nothing lasts forever, because a few months later Wanda broke up with you.

It was one of those evenings when the Avengers tower seemed empty. While everyone else was busy with their own things, Natasha was sitting in the living room drinking her beer. When she saw you enter the room, she handed you a bottle so you could rest a bit.

„Have a drink and relax” she simply said. You thanked her and fell down on the couch next to Natasha. She just looked at you, knowing something was wrong. "Rough day?" she asked with a stoic face.

“Wanda broke up with me,” you replied quietly, your voice breaking at the thought of what had happened. “She chose that fucking toaster on legs over me.”

Natasha couldn’t help but giggle softly at the comment. “Vision you mean?”

“i don’t get it… what did i do wrong?”

Natasha’s smirk disappeared from her face. She leaned back on the couch, and she sighed before she could muster up a response. “Maybe you didn’t do anything… Sometimes its about what people want or don’t want”

“But him?! Really?! What did he have what i don’t?” You were irritated just thinking about him. He was a robot, he wasn’t even human.

"Beats me... He can fly and shoot lasers from his head" Natasha laughed again "You know... not everyone has good taste"

You laughed softly as you started to question whether or not he had a metal dick. You started to joke as Natasha smiled knowing that she cheered you up a bit, she didn't like seeing you down. Your relationship had always been weird. It wasn't just friendly flirting, but you never talked about what was between you, pretending that you were just friends and worked together.

“I think we should find you a new hobby because I don’t want to picture his metal dick again” The redhead laughed.

“I have one idea… We could always go to a bar”

It wasn’t long before you ended up at one of the nearby bars, drinking and dancing. A few shots and drinks later, you both were visibly tipsy, the alcohol was taking effect. Natasha’s usual composure loosened as her inhibitions lowered, her gaze more carefree and lighthearted. She leaned back against the barstool, studying you with a lazy smirk on her face.

“What?” you giggled noticing she was staring at you.

“Nothing… You just a lot more fun when youre drunk” she answered letting inner thoughts threaten to spill out.

When you finished on the dance floor, your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, you danced and your bodies rubbed against each other. She let her hand drift to your hip, pulling you even closer to her. Her eyes met yours, dark with mix of intoxication and desire.

“You're beautiful you know that?” you mumbled moving closer to her, your lips were now just inches apart.

“Am I?” she murmured softly, her voice a low seductive purr “Or is that just the alcohol talking”

“you are hot as fuck” Natasha's smirk turned cocky as her eyes burned with desire. She gently pushed you backwards until your back hit the wall, trapping you against it with the weight of her body. Her hand moved from your hip to your chin, tipping your face up to meet her gaze. Natasha chuckled, her body pressing against yours, her hand still holding your chin, her gaze boring into yours. She leaned in, her lips brushing against your earlobe, her voice a heady whisper in your ear.

"You don't know what you're asking for," she muttered huskily, her free hand roaming over the fabric of your clothes. "I can make you feel things you've never felt before." Wanda wasn’t really dominant so this was new and exiting at the same time.

Natasha dragged you into a taxi and you headed back to the tower. Throughout the whole way, you couldn't keep your hands to yourselves, wandering over the other woman's body.

Natasha's patience had reached its limit. The moment the elevator doors closed behind you, she punted. She slammed you against the wall, her body trapping yours, her gaze smoldering with desire.

"I can't wait anymore," she panted, her hands roaming all over your body, touching you with a desperate need. Her lips found your neck, kissing and nipping, leaving a trail of heated affection “I’ve been waiting for too long”

You moaned when her lips touched your neck and your fingers tangled with her hair. Natasha hummed against your neck, the sound a mixture of approval and desire. Your moan sent a jolt of arousal through her body, fueling her need to feel your skin against hers. Her hands roamed freely over your body, slipping under your clothes, seeking more contact, more flesh. Her kisses moved up until her lips found yours, capturing them in a passionate, demanding kiss.

When you got out of the elevator, Natasha immediately pushed you against the wall. Natasha groaned when you wrapped your leg around her waist, the action bringing your bodies even closer together. She ground her hips against you, the movement hard and desperate, her need for you becoming almost primal. She broke the kiss just long enough to let out a ragged exhale, her breath mingling with yours. "I want you. Now."

“Say it again... please….” You moaned. Natasha's hand gripped your hip, her fingers digging into your flesh as she pushed you harder against the wall. She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice a low, sinful whisper.

"I want you. I need you. Now." Her hand slid up the length of your thigh, hooking your leg over her hip, the movement more possessive than ever before. "You understand?"

At that moment, you didn't care about the breakup or that anyone could see you two. Natasha's sloppy kisses were driving you crazy, so you dragged her to your room. Natasha pushed you onto the bed, climbing on top of you and pinning your hands above your head.

"Wanda never dominated you huh?" Natasha smiled knowing it was true. "Baby with me you'll feel things you could only dream of with Wanda"

A moment later they ended up naked in your bed. Natasha moved lower kissing your chest, your stomach and finally ending between those legs. She couldn't help herself and ran her tongue through your wet folds. She moaned loudly at the taste of you on her tongue.

"oh god... you taste so good"

Your fingers tangled in her hair holding her where you needed her the most. Her tongue moved faster and faster, and you squirmed beneath her. Natasha grabbed your thighs to keep you in place. She continued to eat your pussy like it was her last meal. She was hungry for your taste. It wasn't long before she added her fingers, pushing two of them roughly into your pussy. You moaned with pleasure, wanting more. You tugged at her hair, holding her between your shaking legs. Her movements were still sloppy from the alcohol. She mumbled something under her breath as she gently sucked on your clit.

"I’m… I’m gonna... cum... Natasha please… can I cum?" you moaned. Your body trembled as you ere closer to the pleasure, as Natasha’s fingers curled inside you, finding that sweet spot.

"Good girl, asking for permission... such a submissive good girl." Natasha mumbled, pushing another finger into your pussy "Cum for me baby"

It wasn't long before you came on Natasha's face. The redhead lapped up your juices, not wanting to waste a single drop. Her face was covered in your orgasm and her eyes still held a hunger. Her pupils were much larger and her irises were a darker shade of green.

“Nat… Natasha… oh god… fuck…!”

“Good girl, scream my name… my good girl” she kept mumbling.

As you came down from your high, you thought Natasha would pull away to kiss you, but she continued eating your pussy. She couldn't hold back, it only took a moment for her to become addicted to your taste. Natara's free hand pressed gently against your lower abdomen.

"Natasha...tooo sensitve..." you tried to pull away but Natasha held you in place.

"Don't you dare move. Just one more"

Natasha continued fucking you not paying attention to the overwhelming pleasure that was spreading throughout your body. Life mattered to your cheeks. Your legs shook as Natasha's fingers moved in and out at a rapid pace. You squirmed, moaning her name like a prayer.

"I can't...I can't…" You kept screaming.

"You can do it baby....You'll feel so good..."

“Tell me when you belong to… Tell me you’re mine…” She softly bit your clit.

“I’m yours… only yours…”

Could you write Natasha helping reader through a bad flare up of arthritis? I, not sure if it counts as a sick fic. I’m assuming yes bc ithe pain is making reader very nauseous.

If not then can it be fighting a stomach bug?

Thxx <3

Signed: 🐇

Take It Slow

〚 Notes - Thank you for the kinds words! Stuff like that honestly makes my day more than you could know. I didn't think I'd be able to write arthritis properly since I've never experienced that so I went with the second option! hope you enjoy <3 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You thought the nausea was just from travelling. It turns out it wasn't... 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2000 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

TW for vomit mentions! <-

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The quinjet vibrated steadily as it flew, the surrounding sky becoming a hazy orange as the sun began to set. You were nearly home. After two days away on a mission, you honestly couldn’t wait for a hot shower and to curl up in bed. It wouldn’t be long now. Just another thirty minutes. 

You sighed quietly as you reached down to pick up your bag from the floor, leaning towards to grab a small bottle of water from the inside pouch. After twisting off the cap and took a slow sip you pulled a face. The water was painfully lukewarm.  

“That bad?” An amused Natasha chuckled from 

where she sat opposite, her legs pulled up onto the fabric of the seat in such a way that would make Tony scream for weeks about his precious upholstery. 

“I certainly wouldn’t call it pleasant.” You said as you chucked the bottle across the way for her to catch. She took a swig and her face twisted ever so slightly as she laughed again. 

“It’s not awful. We’ve definitely had way worse.” 

That was true. You’d endured more of your share of awful tasting water in the years since becoming an Avenger, quickly learning that the old pipes in safe houses were not to be trusted. 

She smirked faintly before tossing the bottle back. You caught it easily, though the movement made something in your stomach twist uncomfortably. A dull sort of cramp forming in your belly. 

Your brows pulled together slightly as you shifted in your seat, pressing a hand briefly against your abdomen before lowering it after a minute. 

It was probably just hunger. Or exhaustion. Most likely both. 

Two days of running on adrenaline, bad food, and barely any sleep would be enough to make anyone feel a little uncomfortable. 

You inhaled slowly through your nose. The air in the quinjet suddenly felt… warm. Not unbearably so - just stuffy in a way you hadn’t noticed earlier. Your stomach rolled faintly, a slow, unpleasant wave that made you swallow. 

Nat gave you a strange look, her features furrowing slightly as she noticed you fidgeting. You had been about to question her when she spoke first, “Are you alright? You look a little… off.” 

Your hand tightened a little around your stomach as you debated whether to be honest or simply shrug off her concerns. “I don’t know,” You finally mumbled, “I just feel a little weird.” 

That got her attention. Natasha’s expression changed as she leaned closer, “Weird how?” 

You pressed your lips together as another dull cramp rolled through your stomach. “Kind of crampy, maybe? It sounded like more of a question than an answer as you tried to work out how you actually felt, “A bit nauseous I think.” 

Natasha’s brows pulled together and you knew that was her concerned face. “Did you eat anything weird?” She asked in an enquiring tone, her green eyes studying you. 

“No weirder than usual. Just one of those god-awful protein bars we have stashed in here.” You kicked the bag in-front of your foot. 

Natasha hummed softly in consideration. A second passed and she glanced toward the cockpit for a second before looking back at you. 

“Probably the flight,” She decided, “Given the lack of decent food and lack of rest, your body is probably just unsettled. 

It sounded reasonable enough. The quinjet had been in the air for hours and you’d barely slept the last two days. You weren’t one to get motion sickness but after the last few days you wouldn’t be surprised if now was the time it decided to make an appearance. 

“Yeah,” You agreed, nodding slightly. “You’re probably right.” 

Another faint roll of nausea passed through your stomach, as if agreeing with the diagnosis. You swallowed and leaned your head back against the wall again. Natasha eye’s flicked up to the control panel for a moment before she spoke, “We’ll be home soon, just another 20 minutes or so.” 

For a while neither of you spoke. The cabin settled into that comfortable quiet you and Natasha had perfected over years of missions together. You liked that about your relationship. You two could be doing completely different activities or in complete silence but it never felt awkward, it was nice. Like just being together was enough. 

You managed to slip into a sort of daydream, mind wandering as you tried to distract yourself from the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. It seemed to work and before you knew it, the pitch and speed of the quinjet changed as it prepared its landing sequence. 

“You ready?” Nat asked as she began gathering her things and prompted you to do the same. You swung your duffel bag over your back before grabbing the rest of your stuff. 

“Can’t wait to be on solid ground.” You mumbled, more so to yourself as you gripped one of the overhead rails for stability as the jet finally landed onto the pad. Natasha pressed a button and the doors opened with a mechanical hiss, hinges squeaking as a ramp to the platform moved into place. 

Normally after a mission food was the first thing you went for. But the thought made your stomach twist, there was really no appetite there at all. Instead, you decided on showering, hoping that cleaning yourself up would wash away any ill feeling. That always seemed to help.  

The hot water felt good at first, steam filling the bathroom as it poured over your shoulders. You stood there longer than usual, hoping the heat would settle the uneasy swirl in your stomach. For a moment it almost seemed to help - your muscles loosened, and the general grime of the past few days washed out. 

But the nausea never really left. It lingered stubbornly, a dull, queasy knot that twisted again when you tipped your head back under the spray. After a few more minutes you gave up, shutting the water off with a tired sigh. By the time you dried off and pulled on a loose shirt and sweatpants, the heaviness in your stomach and the dull ache behind your eyes hadn’t improved at all. Deciding it wasn’t worth fighting, you shuffled toward your bed. Maybe sleep would help instead. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. At first it was just a vague discomfort tugging you out of sleep. Then your stomach lurched and your eyes snapped open. 

For a moment you lay still in the dark, breathing slowly as you tried to figure out what had woken you. The room was quiet, lit only by the faint glow of the city outside your window. Natasha was beside you now too, her red curls having fallen over her face as she mumbled in her sleep. You tried to close your eyes, attempting to fall back asleep again but another wave of nausea rolled through you. 

Your stomach twisted sharply and your throat tightened as saliva suddenly flooded your mouth... 

“Fuck-“ You pushed yourself upright immediately, heart beginning to race with that knowing dread. You’d barely been able to get yourself to the small ensuite bathroom. There hadn’t even been time to turn on the light, blindly relying on muscle memory as you collapsed in front of the toilet was a wet gag. 

Your throat burned as you heaved into the bowl, the sharp, sour taste of acid lingering in your mouth only making you gag further. You’d tried to be quiet, but you felt so awful as beads of sweat began to trickle down your back and along the top of your brow.  

Without much warning the light suddenly flicked on, and you flinched hard at the brightness as one hand gripped the side of the toilet as another miserable heave forced its way up your throat. Your stomach clenched violently, muscles tightening in painful spasms as you gagged again, coughing weakly between retches. Your eyes watered from the strain, tears blurring the harsh bathroom light. 

“Shit darling.” You recognised her voice first as quick steps hurried towards you. A soft hand came to your back, rubbing comfortingly as you heaved again, “There you go, just get it out baby.” 

Swallowing hard, you tried to catch your breath before mumbling out her name, and your hair had already fallen forward in a damp mess across your face.  

“Nat-”  

“You’re okay,” She murmured, taking the bobble from her own hair to pull yours into a small updo. 

Your throat burned, the acid taste stubbornly lingering no matter how much you tried to swallow it away. Even breathing felt uncomfortable, every inhale making your stomach wobble unpleasantly, “Sorry...” You rasped, “Did I wake you up?” 

Natasha kissed the top of your head softly, “Don’t worry about that, you should’ve woken me up when you started feeling sick.” Her tone was laced with sympathy. She made sure you weren’t going to be sick again before pouring a glass of water and pressing it into your hands, “Slowly, slowly” She murmured as you drank slowly. 

For a few seconds you just knelt there, breathing unevenly. Sweat clung to your shirt, the fabric sticking to you uncomfortably as your stomach still fluttered with small unhappy rumbles. “I guess it wasn’t travel sickness then.” You managed a weak chuckle but couldn’t help the small whine following afterwards. 

She sighed softly, “Probably not, you still feeling rough?” 

You nodded, though it was more of a tired dip of your head than anything else. Your throat still burned horribly. Every swallow scraped, and the sour taste of stomach acid refused to go away no matter how many sips of water you took. 

Another miserable ripple passed through your stomach, and you instinctively leaned a little closer to the toilet again, just in case. Your breathing hitched, but the nausea hovered instead of tipping you over the edge. 

Natasha waited patiently until the moment passed, “Think you’re done for now?”  

“I think so.” Your legs had started to ache from kneeling. Nat stood up, extending a hand to help you stand up. Her arm slipped securely around your waist, anchoring you while you steadied yourself. You were leaning into her more than you probably realised, your weight sagging with fatigue. One of your hands automatically caught the front of her shirt, fingers curling weakly into the fabric as she guided you out of the bathroom. 

“C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.” She murmured, helping you lay back down into bed. Once you were laying down, she disappeared back to the bathroom for a minute before reappearing with the small trash can and placed it on your side of the bed, “Just incase.” 

Sliding into the position next to you, Nat pulled the sheets up to your waist. Your head came to rest on her chest, curling into her side as you tried to get settled. Nat’s hand came to slowly play with your hair, hand running through loose curls. She frowned ever so slightly, her hand movement pausing as she rested the back of her palm against on your forehead for a moment. “You’re burning up a little.” She muttered, more to herself than you before letting her fingers run through your hair again, “We might need to check your temp’ darling.”  

She glanced toward the nightstand, quietly debating whether she should get the thermometer from the bathroom. But when she looked down again, your breathing had already softened into the slow rhythm of sleep, exhaustion finally pulling you under despite the feverish flush on your cheeks, “Though I suppose we can wait until the morning.” 

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