#marvelsickfic

You let out a soft exhale through your nose as you carefully trail the pad of your thumb over the shell of Natasha's ear. The warm water of the shower flows over the both of your bodies, hitting the tiled floor with a quiet splatter. Natasha's eyes were closed as she lounges comfortably in your arms, but you knew that she wasn't asleep. You could tell by the constant sneezes and sniffles she was trying yet failing to stifle against you.

The poor thing was currently suffering with one of the worse colds she'd ever had. It had started innocently enough. A sore throat. A runny nose. A few complaints of a small headache in passing, but that was it. But then it had grown into stuffed sinuses, nausea, body aches and one hell of a temperature, and medicine could only do so much.

It was why you were curled up on the shower floor with the water running as hot as it would go, Natasha sat between your parted legs with her head resting on your chest just beneath your chin. It wasn't the most comfortable position, nor was it the most sanitary, but Natasha seemed somewhat at ease for the first time in hours so you weren't going to complain.

"Hh'itshhiew!" Natahsa lets out an unstifled sneeze onto the open shower floor, and you internally coo as you reach up to wipe away the snot on her cupids bow with the pad of your thumb before rinsing it off beneath the water. By now, your fear of catching whatever she had was out of the window.

"Bless you, baby." You murmur, and Natasha's lips quirk up ever so slightly at the corners as she attempts to snuggle more into you. You welcome her closeness, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her red tresses as you trail your hand gently over the bare, wet skin of her thigh.

"How are you feeling?" You wonder as you begin preparing to get you both out of the shower. You'd been in here about forty five minutes now, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the water began running cold. The last thing you wanted was for this cold to progress into the flu.

Natasha coughs hoarsely against you before letting out a sigh, "The same. But my chest isn't as tight anymore." Her voice was still raspy, but she no longer sounded as congested which brought you some relief.

"That's good," you smile softly. "Are you ready to get out? It's about time for some lunch." You had made some tomato soup that had been simmering away on the lowest heat for about an hour now, and whilst you knew it would be unlikely Natasha would be able to taste it, getting something substantial into her body was your main concern. She’d yet to eat today and it was already two in the afternoon.

"Mhh." Natasha nods tiredly as she attempts to sit up, and you place a steady hand on her back as you rise to your feet and turn off the shower. After drying off your hands with a towel, you place them beneath her armpits.

"Ready?" You ask, leaning down to once again kiss her head, waiting for the nod of confirmation before easily lifting her unsteady frame to her feet. "There we go." You sooth, reaching for the warm towel you'd left in the warmer before securing it around her shoulders. She automatically leans into you, and you wrap a supporting arm around her waist as you reach for your own towel.

Once you were secure and covered, you lead her into the bedroom and ease her down onto the bed. She automatically lays down and curls herself up small, and you pout slightly as you give her behind a few gentle pats before heading into the closet with the intention of grabbing you both some clothes.

You were soon dressed, clad in a pair of leggings and oversized shirt, and you head over to the bed and set down the clothes you'd picked out for Natasha. A pair of light cotton shorts and a tank top.

"Baby?" You attempt to rouse her, sitting yourself down onto the bed and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her red tinged nose scrunches up as she stirs, and you quietly bless her when she lets two open sneezes out into the comforter.

"Let's get you dressed, okay?" You coax, swiping the pad of your thumb over a warm, flushed cheek, and though Natasha sighs heavily, she complies and sits herself up, allowing you to tug off the towel to begin drying her off.

"I ache." She mutters hoarsely as she allows you to guide her legs into the holes of her shorts, and you pause momentarily as you stare up at her with a concerned expression on your face.

"You want a massage?" You offer, grasping her by the hips to briefly stand her up so you could finish tugging the shorts up and over her behind. You press an affectionate kiss to her stomach before easing her back down.

Natasha's lips quirk up into the barest hints of a smile, "That sounds amazing." She murmurs, and you smile as you lean up to press a kiss to her nose before reaching round to pull her hair up into a loose ponytail. You manage to complete the task just seconds before she sneezes again.

"Hh'iiishiew!" Her head bobs, and you quietly bless her as you round the bed to grab the lotion from the nightstand. It was vanilla scented, a smell you’ve associated with Natasha since you started dating all those years ago.

"That one was your fault." She groans as she sniffles thickly, and you chuckle slightly as you coax her to lay down on her back. You were gonna start at her feet and make your way up. You were going to give her the full treatment in hopes it would help ease her pain.

"Maybe so," you muse with a teasing grin, "just, relax my love." You instruct, giving the flesh of her exposed thigh a squeeze, and Natasha lets out a quiet cough as she complies. After making sure she had some tissues and water, you pour some body lotion onto your hands and rub them together before beginning to run them up and down her leg.

You could feel the tightness of her calf muscles almost immediately, and you frown, wondering just how long she'd allowed herself to suffer in silence. You deepen the pressure ever so slightly, smiling at the small groan of relief you receive in response. Her skin was slightly scarred and oh so soft to the touch, and you relish in the feeling as you dig the pads of your thumbs into the arches of her feet.

You soon find yourself moving up to her thighs, and you make a conscious effort to keep your touch as respectful as you possibly could not wanting her to think you had any ulterior motives. Not that she would complain you knew, but she was sick and would most likely end up passing out mid orgasm should you even try starting anything.

Throughout the massage, Natasha sneezes a total of seven times. You bless each and every one, ignoring her groans of dismay at your repetitiveness as you work your way up her body. Your hands glide over her back, sides, stomach. Even her own hands which brings a smile to the sick red heads face.

"There we go," you murmur as you deem yourself done, wiping your hands off with the towel before laying yourself down next to her and resting your head on your hand. "Do you feel any better?" You reach over and cup her cheek, grazing the pad of your thumb over the still warm skin. You knew it would soon be time for some more medicine.

Natasha coughs hoarsely into the blankets before nodding her head. "A little." She rasps out, and you smile softly as you lean forward to press your lips against her shoulder.

"I'm gonna go grab you some soup. Try not to fall asleep, okay?" The red head simply grunts in acknowledgment, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes fondly as you send her one last look before making your way out of the room. Deciding you would eat when she inevitably fell asleep mid lunch, you simply dish up a small portion of tomato soup for Natasha and set it on a tray along with some medicine and a single grilled cheese cut up into triangles.

By the time you make it back to your bedroom, Natasha was in the exact same place you’d left her in except now, she was seemingly asleep. Though you roll your eyes -because of course she’d done the exact opposite of what you asked her to do- your heart admittedly melts at the sight as you place the tray down onto the nightstand. Easing yourself down onto the bed, you lean down and press your lips against her forehead before trailing your hand up and down the bare skin of her back.

“Nat? I have soup baby.” You call softly, grabbing a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wiping away the snot that had begun dripping down her cupids bow. Natasha let’s out a heavy sigh that slips into a wet cough as she allows you to rouse her, heavy lids opening and greeting you with a less than happy look.

“I know,” you murmur in understanding as you lean down and slide an arm beneath her back, easily lifting her up and into a sitting position before covering her body with the blankets. Natasha grumbles, but allows you to manoeuvre her around like a little rag doll. “but you haven’t eaten today and I’m concerned. Have some soup and then you can sleep all you like, okay?” You promise, and though Natasha seems reluctant, she seems to accept your words and begrudgingly nods her head in understanding.

After picking up the bowl and adjusting yourself a little to get more comfortable, you scoop up a small spoonful of the red liquid and offer it out. Natasha eyes you for only a moment before her lips part, and you smile slightly as you watch her swallow with only a slight grimace of pain.

It wasn’t very often Natasha drops her guard and allows you full control over taking care of her. In fact, it was such a rarity you don’t think you even remember the last time it had happened. Maybe it was the time she’d hurt her ankle a little over a year ago? You weren’t quite sure. But what you did know was that whilst you didn’t love it when she was sick, you did love knowing how much she trusted you.

“Good girl.” You murmur with a tender smile, and you pretend not to notice the dark blush that makes an appearance on her cheeks.

You loved your little germ bug more than words could ever explain.

**

It started with a persistent tickle in the back of your throat. A little irritating but nothing a little water and chamomile tea couldn't fix. But then came the runny nose and stuffed up sinuses, and no matter how many times you blew your nose, it would return with a vengeance every. freaking. time.

You end up going through two boxes of tissues in just a day, and your poor nose was red raw.

You didn't often get sick. Maybe once or twice a year and it was never anything more than the casual cold.

You’d get the sniffles, maybe a sore throat. You'd take a day off work to recoup knowing that your boss wouldn't want you at anything less than your best, and that was that.

But you had a sinking feeling that this time, that wouldn't be the case. You felt absolutely horrible, and that was only amplified by a thousand when you realise that tonight was the night that Natasha was driving down to see you and you'd have to pretend you were completely fine.

You'd only been dating for a little under seven  weeks, so things were still pretty new to the both of you. That includes the affection front. Sure you kissed and occasionally cuddled, but you were no where near close enough to being comfortable with her looking after your sick self. Especially not when you were all snotty and full of germs.

It was why tonight would suck, because not only would you have to pretend you weren't sick, you'd also have to hide every sniffle, every cough every sneeze. All of which you knew would next to impossible because you had an former ex-KGB assassin as your girlfriend.

You tried everything to make yourself look and feel better. You even went to extent of gargling with salt water and taking some over-the-counter medicine (which you were usually against) to relieve your symptoms. But nothing seemed to work.

As the hours ticked by, you found yourself feeling worse and worse. Your head was pounding, your body aching, and you couldn't stop coughing. You tried to distract yourself by cleaning up the apartment and making some dinner, but it was a struggle to even stand up for more than a few minutes at a time.

You tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible, despite feeling like death warmed over. You took a hot shower, hoping that it would clear out your sinuses, but it only seemed to make things worse. Ignoring the pleasing urge to shove on some warm, comforting pyjamas, you forced yourself to changed into some nicer looking clothes, hoping to distract Natasha from your symptoms, but you knew deep down that it was a lost cause.

When Natasha finally arrived, you put on your best smile and greeted her at the door. She hugged you tightly, and you felt guilty for not being able to reciprocate as enthusiastically as you wanted to.

As you hugged Natasha, you felt a sneeze building up. You tried to suppress it, but your efforts were in vain. You felt your nostrils flare and your eyes start to water, and you knew there was no way to hide it.

You quickly pulled away from Natasha, turning your head and sneezing into your elbow. You tried to play it off as a small cough, but you knew she had heard you.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern etched across her features. There was also a look of knowing in her eyes, but you were too busy trying to stifle another sneeze to notice it.

After managing to get yourself under control, you send her what you hoped was a reassuring smile as you nod your head.

"I'm okay. Just allergies." You lie, pulling open the front door to properly welcome her inside.

Natasha eyes you suspiciously as she steps inside your apartment, kicking off her shoes and and setting down her overnight bag.  "I'm okay. Really." You reaffirm as you close and lock your front door, turning to face Natasha who was already staring at you with a doubtful look on her face.

She thankfully says nothing, simply taking you by the hand and leading you over to the couch. You sniffle softly as you sit, trying to be as subtle as you could about wiping your nose with the sleeve of your shirt.

There was no tissues near you -not that you could blow your nose even if you wanted to because that would definitely give you away. So you resort to suffering in silence, bringing your attention over to Natasha who was telling you how her drive here had gone. 

As Natasha talks, you feel the telltale tickle in your nose and you know that you're about to sneeze again. You desperately try to hold it in, clamping your mouth shut and scrunching up your face. You focus all your energy on keeping the sneeze at bay, hoping that Natasha won't notice.

But just as she finishes her story, you can't hold it in any longer.

A loud "Hh'iishoo!" echoes through the room, and you cringe, feeling embarrassed and self-conscious.

Natasha looks at you with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asks.

You nod, feeling guilty for lying to her. "It's just allergies," you repeat. "I'll be fine."

Natasha studies you for a moment before nodding. "Okay," she says, still sounding unsure. "But if you need anything, let me know."

You smile gratefully at her, feeling relieved that she doesn't press the issue any further. You try to focus on the conversation, but it's getting harder to concentrate with your nose running and your head feeling heavy.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping that a few minutes alone will help you regain your composure. As soon as you're inside, you let out a series of sneezes, finally letting your guard down.

You blow your nose and splash some water on your face, trying to feel better. But as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, you realize that you look terrible. Your eyes are red and watery, your nose is bright red, and you're sweating despite feeling cold.

You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself, knowing that you can't let Natasha see you like this. You splash some more water on your face and take a few deep breaths before returning to the living room.

When you get there, Natasha was stood up again, eyebrow raised pointedly with her arms crossed against her chest. That same look of knowing was back on her face, and you immediately knew the gig was up.

She knew.

"You're sick." She states, and you sigh softly as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear before sitting yourself back down onto the couch. You don't deny her accusations, knowing full well you wouldn't get anywhere.

"It's not even allergy season," she adds as she sits down on the coffee table in front of you. "You lied to me."

"I'm sorry," you immediately apologise, the guilt you were feeling suddenly amplified by a thousand. "I just didn't want you to have to deal with me like this. All sick, congested and gross." You trail off in an unsure murmur, using the sleeve of your shirt to wipe of your nose.

You grimace slightly when Natasha takes that same sleeve without issue and folds it up so the soiled part of it was out of sight. Apparently germs didn't bother her like you thought.

"Look at me," she murmurs, giving your hand in her own a soft squeeze. You cough slightly in the bend of your arm before complying. When you see that Natasha's lips had quirked up into a soft grin, you couldn't help but mimic it despite how crappy you were feeling.

"I know it hasn't been very long, but I promise it's okay to let yourself be vulnerable with me." She starts, trailing the pad of her thumb across the back of your hand.

You nod weakly at her words, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You had been trying so hard to hide your sickness from Natasha, afraid that she would think less of you for being weak and vulnerable. But her words were like a balm to your soul, soothing your worries and reminding you that you weren't alone.

Natasha stands up from the coffee table and disappears into the kitchen, only to return a few moments later with a steaming cup of tea and a plate of crackers. She sets them down on the table in front of you and urges you to eat and drink, knowing that it would help you feel better.

You take a sip of the tea, letting the warm liquid soothe your sore throat and ease your congested sinuses. You feel a little better already, and it was all thanks to Natasha's care and concern.

As you eat the crackers and drink the tea, Natasha sits down next to you on the couch and wraps an arm around your shoulders. You lean into her embrace, feeling safe and protected in her arms. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, savoring the feeling of being cared for and loved.

Natasha continues to hold you, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on your arm as you drift off to sleep. You dream of being wrapped in her arms, of feeling her warmth and comfort, and of knowing that you were never, ever alone.

**

Thank you for reading!