a/n: contains smut
It's 6am and Natasha's in the kitchen, preparing a pancake batter while you're — seemingly — asleep. She whisks sugar into the eggs, adds flour, yogurt, milk...and suddenly feels two arms snake around her waist, a warm body slumping against hers from behind.
You rest your head on her shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes. "Why did you leave", you mumble against the soft fabric of her sweatshirt.
"I couldn't sleep anymore, sweetheart." Natasha puts her hands on yours, caressing them for a moment before she continues cooking.
You yawn again. "You could've stayed and held me."
"I thought about doing that, but surprising you with pancakes seemed like a better idea."
You lift your head, peeking over her shoulder. "Pancakes? Really?", you ask, just as excited as a kid would be.
"Yes, really. I know you like them...", she says, adding a pinch of salt to the batter, "in fact, you seemed to be crazy about them. You'd be the first in the kitchen whenever Wanda made them."
"I am." You kiss her shoulder. "Thanks, Nat."
"You're welcome." She puts a towel over the bowl and turns around, wrapping her arms around your waist. She kisses you, her lips warm and sweet.
You pull away, cupping her face and caressing her cheeks. "You know, Wanda texted me. She said that apparently Ross and some other people were in Europe — Norway too —, looking for us. But they had no chance. There's no trace of us to be found anywhere." You smile and kiss her again. "They can't track us down that easily, huh."
She smiles, her eyes shimmering. "No, they can't. And I'm happy about that." Natasha brushes her nose against yours, gently kissing your cheek. "And they won't find us. Not if we stay right here."
"Our little hiding spot", you whisper against her lips. "How nice."
The redhead rests her forehead against yours, a soft smile on her full lips as she closes her eyes. "I agree."
. . .
Christmas is nearing, and you don't know what to do about it. Usually, the entire compound gets decorated by everyone, you have a huge Christmas party and spend a lot of time with the team. But now that you're in a small trailer in Norway, alone, you aren't really sure how to spend the holidays.
"We could still celebrate", you say slowly. Your head is on Natasha's stomach as you're laying in bed together. "A small Christmas, you know? With a tiny tree and a few gifts and chicken that we bake in the oven. We could decorate the trailer, too."
"Y/N, we're not religious. Maybe there's no point in doing that if we're by ourselves in this trailer." She runs her hand over your head.
"What do you mean 'no point'? Christmas would give us the opportunity to change our usual routine, which has been the same for almost three months now. It could be fun, and sweet."
"Well...you're right." Natasha glances at you. "Are you sure it will be worth the work though? And the risk of being seen in town?"
"If they haven't seen us yet, then they also won't in the future." You sit up and kiss her, smiling happily. "I can't wait."
Natasha chuckles quietly and pulls you into a tight embrace. "If you're happy, I'm happy", she whispers, kissing your head.
. . .
You find a tiny Christmas tree that is just small enough to fit into your trailer. You decorate it with a garland made of popcorn and cranberries, which you made yourself — a bad idea, as your fingers are still hurting almost two days later.
You put up a mistletoe, buy gifts, bake cookies, place candles everywhere. You hang up Christmas lights all over the trailer and you even buy a Rudolph statue that you put outside, right next to a tree. The entire trailer looks like Christmas, and you love it.
Even Natasha seems excited about it now. She's constantly playing festive songs, buys matching sweaters (with tiny bells and candy canes all over them) and wraps every gift as meticulously as she can. Then she places them underneath the small tree, making sure they're arranged nicely.
The day before Christmas Eve, you find a hill to go sledding on. You're sitting in front, Natasha behind you with her arms wrapped around your waist. She laughs when you crash into a small snowdrift, making you fall off the sled.
You wipe the snow out of your face, laughing in surprise, amusement and pain all at once. The cold substance melts on your face, leaving a prickling sensation on your skin.
"You okay?", Natasha asks when she sees your face. Crashing into a heap of snow face-first hurt more than anticipated, and the cold only made it worse. Your eyes tear up as you nod, desperately trying not to cry. "Oh no, детка." She takes off her lined gloves and puts her warm hands on your face, caressing it gently. The heat from her skin slowly warms up your face, which is a relief.
"I'm okay", you mumble.
"Are you sure? Your cheeks...they're red. I mean, really red." She rubs your back. "Do you want to go home? I'll make tea and we'll go to bed."
"No", you brush it off. "Let's keep going. It's fun."
"Not if you're hurt."
"I'm not hurt." You get up, determined to not let a simple crash stop you, and reach out your hand. Natasha takes it and you walk up the hill again, ready for another round.
An hour later, you're in the car driving back to the trailer. You're wrapped into a blanket, shivering from the cold. Natasha put the heat on high, but it's still not enough. Stupid old car.
"We're almost there", she says, glancing at you with worry in her eyes. "You're going to bed as soon as we arrive, you hear me?"
"No", you mutter. "I'm not."
"You are. God, we should've stopped after the crash."
"Nat, stop it", you say, your voice angrier now. You've had enough of her acting like she's your mother, or something like that. "Can you please treat me like an adult instead of some kid? I'm a girl you're dating, not your fucking daughter!"
She goes silent, staring at the road as she keeps driving. The look in her eyes is scary, and you're afraid to speak. You deeply regret your words, but you had to say them. It was necessary.
"This is what I meant", she says quietly, her grip on the steering wheel tight. So tight that her knuckles whiten. "When I talked about our age gap, this...this is it. The problem."
"It's not the age gap, it's the fact that you feel the need to boss me around." You look at her, desperation in your eyes. "People can work through age gaps-"
"It's definitely the age gap. I'm way too protective of you, and it's not...it's not healthy." Natasha drives through trees that are covered in snow as you're getting closer to the trailer. "I didn't even realize until now."
"Natasha, it's okay", you say silently. "It's alright. We'll be alright. You just need to tone it down a little and..."
"And what?" She shakes her head. "The day we kissed for the first time, I warned you. I told you it's a bad idea. But you wouldn't listen, and I caved. I shouldn't have."
"You don't mean that."
She bites her bottom lip as she looks like she's on the verge of tears. Please don't cry, you beg internally. You couldn't handle seeing her cry.
"I don't know anymore, Y/N. I like you. I really do. And I want this to work more than anything else. But it's going to be challenging and difficult and...I don't know if I'm worth that much of your energy."
"Nat, stop the car."
"No, I-"
"Stop the damn car", you say impatiently, and she sighs and pulls over. You turn around on your seat so you're facing her. "If you ever say anything like that ever again, you'll regret it." Your voice is quiet but serious. "You are worth my energy. You are more than worth it. I've told you before that I wouldn't be able to stay in a trailer with someone else for that long, but with you...it's amazing. It's fun. I like it, which is the craziest part. You've shown me that romance and being in love are actual things, and if I had to choose, I'd rather stay here than go back to New York and lose you. So yes, you are worth every bit of energy I can fucking give you. You've made me feel as safe and valuable as I've never felt before."
She stares at you, then nods, lowering her gaze. "I'm sorry", she says silently. "I really am."
"You don't have to be sorry." You take her hand, caressing it.
"I do. You mean so much to me already, and I guess I just don't want you to have anything less than you deserve."
"You're exactly what I deserve." You pause. "Although...that might not be true. You're better than I deserve."
"No." She smiles, her eyes soft. "It's the other way around."
You grin. "I like this much more than fighting."
"Me too." She looks at you, intertwining her fingers with yours. "I have never felt anything for anyone that was even close to what I feel for you, and I guess that can be scary. But I want this to work, Y/N."
You nod and smile softly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "I want this to work, too", you whisper. "And, by the way...I like your protective side. But not if you get concerned about everyday things."
She lifts her eyebrows. "You crashed face first into a heap of snow. That's not an everyday thing."
"Yada, yada, yada", you grin, kissing her. Natasha puts her hands on your face, deepening the kiss.
. . .
Christmas Eve is spent in a comfortable, quiet and lighthearted manner. You eat oven-baked chicken and veggies, drink hot chocolate, watch a Christmas movie, kiss in front of the tree.
Your hands are wrapped around Natasha's neck as she holds you by your waist, pulling you closer as she presses her lips on yours, a small smile on her face. You can taste the hot chocolate on her tongue and sigh lowly, completely content and happy. The only reason you're not sad about not spending Christmas at the compound is the fact that you're with Natasha, and that she's holding you, and kissing you.
The woman holds you close, brushing her hands over your back as she spins you around. Everything around you seems to blur as she's the only thing on your mind. Only Natasha's real — her lips leaving feather-like kisses on your cheeks, her hands running over your back, her hair grazing your skin when she leans in to be closer to you. You close your eyes, smelling her familiar scent.
"Maybe this is even better than Christmas at home", she mumbles, caressing your cheek with her thumb. A mind reader, that's what she apparently is — you just thought the exact same thing. "Nobody is bothering us...and we get a little time off from Tony's eccentric behavior."
"That's true." You look at her, seeing her green eyes shimmer. She smiles and cups your face. "Next year, we'll spend Christmas at the compound again — probably, if everything works out. But this, as a little change, is not so bad. I like it."
"I like it too." Natasha kisses you again, her hands feeling warm and secure on your face. You melt into the kiss as your knees start feeling wobbly; what an effect this woman has on you.
On Christmas morning, you open the gifts you got each other. Books, fuzzy socks, a ton of miscellaneous, cute items. Basically stuff you don't really need, but that make the trailer feel more like home.
You fall asleep in her arms every night, and you wake up in them every morning. You wouldn't want it any other way.
. . .
"New Year's Eve, baby", you grin, your face hovering above Natasha's. She smiles, putting one hand on your cheek. "What's the plan for today? I doubt we'll be setting off the fireworks ourselves this time."
"No, we won't. Unfortunately." She tilts her head. "But we can drive closer to one of the bigger cities and watch the fireworks from there. Norway apparently loves fireworks."
"That's a good idea." You sit up and tie your hair back. "In the car? Or outside, like normal people?"
"We'll see", she says smugly and sits up. There are rings underneath her eyes, which is incredibly adorable. "Depends on how many people are there, and what kind of people too."
"Yeah, right." You lean in and give her a short kiss, then you get out of bed to go take a shower. You pause, your hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to shower", you say slowly. "Do you want to join?" You glance at her, seeing how her cheeks blush.
She raises her eyebrows, still blushing. "Uhm...I don't..."
"It'll be fun", you add, a sheepish smirk on your face. Natasha bites her lip and then — surprise — she nods. You smile as she follows you into the small bathroom, excited that you're about to take your relationship to a new level.
Having arrived in the bathroom, Natasha puts her hands on your hips and kisses you, gently pushing you against the wall. You wrap your arms around her neck, deepening the kiss as she runs her hands underneath your hoodie. She slowly takes it off, tossing it aside as she continues kissing you.
You take off her clothes, and she takes off yours. Once you're both naked, you can't help but look at her. Natasha's beautiful.
"You're breathtaking", she whispers, kissing your neck. You lean your head against the wall to grant her more access to your skin, sighing quietly.
"So are you."
She smiles and kisses you again, slowly backing you into the shower. She presses you against the wall, her body flush against yours. Your face is very red by now, as you suddenly realize that this is actually happening and not just one of your daydreams.
The redhead turns on the water, her lips never leaving yours. The warm water starts prattling down at you, soaking your hair and adding a steamy atmosphere. You hold her close, feeling her skin against yours.
Her lips are full and warm and soft, her hands are roaming your body. You run your fingertips across her back, gently digging them into her skin. Natasha moans quietly, moving her mouth to your jaw, then your neck and your shoulder, leaving kisses and bites everywhere. Once so hesitant about being intimate with you, she's now much bolder — which is a good thing.
Still, she asks for consent before every single move she takes, before every single touch she leaves on your body. Her way of doing this is completely without words: she looks at you, a careful sense of questioning in her eyes, waiting for you to nod or shake your head. You always do the former, not even thinking about it. Of course you want her to touch you.
Natasha brushes her thumb across your nipple, watching your face with a hidden expectation in her eyes. You close your eyes, your head dropping against the cold tile wall behind you as you moan silently. She smirks, happy with the result, and kisses your chest, leaving a small hickey right underneath your collarbone.
You can't even tell how much time has passed since you got into the shower, that's how dizzy being with Natasha makes you.
"I want you", you breathe, running your fingers through her red hair, feeling how soft it is. She looks at you and smiles, kissing your jaw.
"I can arrange that, детка." The woman brushes her nose against your cheek, leaving a kiss right underneath your ear. "How do you want it, sweetheart?"
"Your hand." You turn pink right as you say that, but god knows it's true. You're obsessed with her hands, and you want her to touch you with them. Now.
"Anything for you." Her hand finds its way to your center and she brushes her thumb over your clit, making you moan quietly. She slowly slips her fingers into you, continuing to kiss your neck as she does so. Her movements are slow and calculated, teasing you to tears. It's almost cruel, but you enjoy it.
Natasha sucks on your neck as she keeps pleasing you, her hand moving just a little faster now. It's still not fast enough, and you can feel the tears prickle in your eyes as your need for relief becomes stronger.
"Faster", you finally moan, your voice all shaky.
"Faster?" She nods and kisses your jaw, actually going faster now. You feel the oxytocin rush through your body as you feel the climax creep up on you. What pushes you over the edge is one simple thing: Natasha's tongue running over your neck for a second when she leaves a hickey on it.
You crumble underneath the orgasm, which hits you like a brick. You moan, burying your face against Natasha's shoulder and clutching her back with your hands, desperate to hold on to her.
. . .
After you get dressed, you lay down in your bed. You're on top of Natasha, your head on her chest and your leg twisted so it's underneath hers. Your bodies are intertwined underneath the layers of blankets, and you can smell the vanilla candle burning on the nightstand next to you.
"We're lazy as fuck", you mumble. "We literally woke up two hours ago and now we're in bed again."
"Who cares", Natasha replies, lazily stroking your hair. "Midnight is still a while away, so we've got all the time in the world."
"We do." You yawn, closing your eyes. It's so warm and comfortable here, wearing hoodies and cuddling underneath the soft blankets. "What do you think when we're going back home?", you ask quietly.
"Honestly, soon. Maybe a few more months." She kisses your head. "It all depends on what General Ross and the others decide to do. Stop the investigation or fine us instead of arresting us or whatever. But I have to say that there's a risk they won't back down, which would mean that it could literally take years."
Years. That thought sounds scarier than you'd like to admit. You love being here with Natasha, and you don't mind staying for another few months — but years? Years of living alone in this trailer, doing nothing but cooking, sleeping and going for walks? A boring, lazy life?
No. You want to go back to New York. With her, of course.
"Let's hope that won't happen."
"Obviously." Natasha yawns and wraps her arms tighter around you, rolling the two of you over so that you're laying on your back. You look at her, giggling silently. "Hey, pretty", she smiles, kissing your lips.
You wrap your arms around her neck, smiling and reciprocating the kiss. She tastes like tea with apple juice, which you had after the shower. It may sound like a boring grandma-drink, but it's so good — and even better when tasted on Natasha's tongue.
. . .
At 9.30 in the evening, you hop into the car and drive to one of the bigger cities nearby. The drive there takes almost two hours, so you had to leave early. But you don't mind — driving around with Natasha is actually really fun and you enjoy it a lot, especially when you listen to music together. She rarely sings along, but when she does, it's absolutely amazing.
"But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms...", you sing, glancing at Natasha with a smile on your face.
She smirks, looking at the road and tapping her fingers on the steering wheel along to the melody of the song. "And if you like having secret little rendezvous..."
"If you like to do the things you know we shouldn't do..."
"Then baby, I'm perfect...", Natasha continues, looking at you for a second, her eyes shimmering.
"Baby I'm perfect for you", you smile, not able to take your eyes off her. "You need to sing more."
She laughs. "Me? I'm flattered, but no."
"You really do! Your voice is sexy." You lean your head back against the headrest, looking out of the window to your right now. You're speeding past trees and mountains, the night dark and young. Natasha takes your hand and, suddenly, you feel like you're in a movie.
"Sexy...you really think so?", she smirks.
"Yes, of course. I mean, when you wake up in the morning...it's so dark and raspy for a while. I almost jump your bones every time you say 'good morning'." You smile and look away, trying to hide the pink shimmer on your cheeks.
"Well, that's good to know." She brushes her thumb over your knuckles, a small grin on her face. "Very useful, too."
"Useful? Excuse me?", you say, pretending to be extremely shocked.
"Now I know your weakness", Natasha says. Obviously she's not being serious, but you decide to keep playing along. She seems to be enjoying this, too. "Whenever I want something, I'll just smoke and you'll fold immediately."
"You're not allowed to smoke", you say, shaking your head. "It's bad for you."
"Okay, sure, mommy", she mocks you playfully. You lightly slap her hand, making her laugh.
Then, you finally arrive. It's half past 11 by now, so New Year's isn't far away anymore. You get out of the car after finding a pretty empty part of the city and walk over to a small park, where there's multiple groups of people distributed on the snowy ground.
You decide to stay underneath a tall pine tree as you wait for midnight to come. Natasha has her phone in her hand to keep an eye on the time, which she checks every few minutes.
"11.50", she finally says. "Ten more minutes." She has her arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her now as she kisses your cheek. You smile, your arms wrapped around her as you rest your head on her shoulder.
"What are you wishing for?", you ask, looking at the night sky.
"You wish for something on New Year's? Isn't that a birthday thing?"
"I do. My brother started this tradition." You pause. "You're only allowed to tell the people you trust, though. He said that, too."
"Okay. Well, I wish for Ross to stop hunting us...and that we can go to New York together. In peace." She puts one hand on your cheek. "What do you wish for, darling?"
"Same as you. And that we'll be able to make this work." You look at her. "I mean, us. Maybe it's silly..."
"It's not." Natasha kisses your temple. "I wish for the same."
Then, a few minutes later, the countdown to midnight starts. Everyone is chanting the numbers backwards in Norwegian, only you and Natasha are doing it in English. Five, four,...
"Three...two...one.", you say in unison, and then look at each other, fireworks exploding and coloring the sky in the most beautiful colors.
"Happy New Year", you smile, feeling giddy and happy. Natasha smiles back, drawing you closer as she cups your face.
"Happy New Year, my love." She leans in and kisses you, her thumbs caressing your face as you put your hands on her waist, holding on to her.
. . .
After having had sex for the first time, Natasha and you are suddenly doing it constantly. You didn't know how bad you wanted it until you actually did it, and now that you both now what it feels like...there's no going back. It's a great way to pass time, arguably the best one.
And you're not picky about the location, either. The shower is a popular spot, and of course your bed — a classic —, but you're also in favor of the bench in the kitchen and the backseat of your car. The kitchen counter is a bit uncomfortable, but also not bad.
You're out of breath after Natasha rolls off you, her hair messy and her neck covered in love bites. You glance at her, seeing her cheeks glow and her lips slightly swollen. "I'm exhausted now."
"Me too", she replies, still trying to catch her breath. "This comes close to a workout."
"It does." You close your eyes, sighing contently. "But better."
"Much better", she agrees.
You turn around so you're facing her, and she does the same. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to go again", you say sheepishly, making the woman chuckle. She kisses your forehead, wrapping her arm around your waist.
"You're insane, you know?" Natasha's face is inches away from yours, your nose brushing against hers for a split second. "What do you want, huh? Lose your ability to walk, darling?"
"Okay, okay", you mumble, accepting your fate. Maybe it really would be too much. "We should go make dinner, then. I'm starving."
"Starving?" She sits up, grabbing her hoodie to put it on. "Let's find something to eat, детка."
You make dinner in your usual way: kissing and touching each other so much that you nearly forget about your food and almost let it burn. Somehow, you manage to prepare a nice meal, which consists of only slightly too dark grilled cheese sandwiches. You eat pickles as a side, sitting in Natasha's lap with her free hand on your thigh.
It's the middle of January now, and you're both starting to get bored. Not of each other, of course not, but of staying in the same place all day every day. You only go into town sometimes, so there's barely anything you can do. Watching movies and sledding are also some all time favorites, as well as just listening to music and cuddling, but even that is starting to get old.
After dinner, you go to bed. You cuddle. You fall asleep. Your usual nighttime routine.
. . .
You wake up in the middle of the night, your pulse racing as you stare into the pitch black hallway across from your bed. Usually, you leave the light on every night. Every night. But now, it somehow turned off.
Natasha's still asleep, laying on her stomach with her arm underneath her pillow. You gently shake her shoulder until she wakes up, looking at you with confusion until she finally notices the missing light.
"What happened?", she asks with a drowsy voice, immediately grabbing the gun on her nightstand.
"I don't know. Did someone..." You don't dare finishing the sentence.
"I'll check." She gets up and you grab her arm.
"Natasha, no. What if they're armed?"
"Y/N, I doubt anyone's out there. This trailer and the generator outside are extremely old, and it's also freezing. It's probably nothing."
You lower your gaze as you let go of her. "Be careful."
"Of course."
She gets into her coat and goes outside while you wait in bed, your stomach hurting now. Thankfully, she returns just two minutes later.
"The generator crapped out", she says, gently putting the gun on her nightstand again. "Everything's okay. But we'll have to get a new one tomorrow if I don't manage to fix this one."
"Shit", you mumble. The entire trailer is so dark you can barely see anything. Natasha carefully gets into bed again, and you inch closer until she wraps her arms around you.
. . .
You go ice-skating the next day. There's a rink close to the town you always visit, so you decide to just have a fun day and spend some time on the ice, not worrying about anything.
You arrive there, get some skates and then you go on the ice. You've only done this three times, but you're not bad at it. Natasha's even better, though. She takes your hand when you're on the ice, smiling as you start skating together. The ice-skating rink is pretty empty, so there's plenty of space for you to skate around and have fun.
Natasha holds your hand tightly as she leads you across the ice, glancing at you every few seconds with a smile on her face. Her cheeks are red from the cold and she looks adorable.
You try keeping up with her, which is nearly impossible. Thankfully she notices and slows down, turning around to pull you closer for a kiss. Her gloved hands on your cheeks, you smile against her cold, soft lips.
You pull away, seeing the soft smile on her scarlet lips, her eyes as gentle and warm as always. She kisses your cheek, snaking her arms around your waist as she holds you. You're standing still on the ice now, ignoring the few people who are skating around you. This is more important.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar urge overcomes you and you move away so you can look at her face. Her hands are still on your waist, her eyes focused on you.
"I love you", you breathe, your cheeks turning pink.
She blinks and then she smiles, finally. "I love you too."
It's the first time you've said these words to each other.
. . .
Wanda FaceTimes you the next day. You pick up the phone immediately, excited to hear from your best friend again. You miss her, you really do.
"Hey", you say happily, smiling widely and waving at her. Wanda smiles back as she sits down on some couch. "How are you? It's so nice to see your face."
"I'm great, how about you? Where's Nat?"
You turn the phone so she can see Natasha, who's sitting next to you on the bed. She's reading a book but looks up now, smiling at the phone. "Hey, Wands", she says, lifting her hand.
"You're still in that trailer?"
"Yes, unfortunately. Any news regarding Ross?", you ask.
"They're still searching and we're still global fugitives", she sighs. "But — apparently — they're discussing different measures. There's a chance we'll get out of this without ending up behind bars."
"How big is that chance?"
"Small. But I'll take it, honestly."
You keep chatting for an entire hour, talking about whatever comes to your mind. Christmas, New Year's, plans on what you'll be doing when you get back to New York. It's refreshing to talk to her as you're so used to her presence. Back in the compound, you spent every single second with her — if you could, that is.
"If they decide to stop the investigation or something I'll call you", Wanda promises.
"Thanks, Wands."
You say bye to her and hang up, looking at Natasha. She takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "Maybe we're going back home soon", she says quietly, a small smile on her face. "I wouldn't mind."
"Me too." You put your head on her shoulder.
. . .
For the first time in a while, Natasha doesn't sleep well. She keeps tossing and turning so much that she eventually wakes you up, making you realize that the woman next to you is unusually hot.
You put your hand on her forehead, noticing how heated and sweaty it is. She muffles in her sleep, her hand twitching.
"Nat?", you whisper. "You have a fever."
She turns around, opening her eyes and blinking. "What?"
"A fever. You have a fever."
The redhead sits up. "No I don't." But her glassy eyes and red cheeks say otherwise.
"You do", you say, gently pushing her down so she can rest. "Does your throat hurt? Is your nose stuffed? Headache?"
"I'm okay", Natasha brushes it off.
"Whatever you say", you cave, knowing discussing this with her won't work anyway. "Then sleep. If you need anything, wake me."
She nods. "Alright, yeah. Thanks, love."
You kiss her cheek, then you lay down as well.
Spoiler alert: she is sick.
When she wakes up in the morning, she has a headache and can't stop coughing. She still won't admit she isn't feeling well, but you can tell by just looking at her.
"Stay in bed", you order, getting into your hoodie and quickly brushing your hair.
"I'm perfectly fine", she mutters, but — thankfully — stays in bed. You go to the kitchen, where you prepare a cup of tea with lemon and sugar (unfortunately, you don't have any honey). Then you cut up an apple and add some crackers to the plate. You carry everything back to the bedroom, handing it to Natasha.
She looks at you with surprise in her eyes.
"For you", you quickly say.
"Thanks. But..."
"What?" You sit down next to her, stealing one of her apple slices.
"Why?", she finally says, glancing at you.
You raise your eyebrows. "Why? Because you're sick and deserve to be taken care of. Also, I like playing nurse."
"Oh." She nods and bites into a cracker. "Thank you", she mumbles, and you can't tell whether the red color on her cheeks is from the fever or not.
You tilt your head. "How are you?", you ask gently.
Natasha sips on her tea. "Okay." Then she smiles. "Better, thanks to you."
You smile at her, leaning your head back. "I'm glad to hear that." You give her a checking look. "Throat? Head? Fever?"
"I'm okay", she insists.
"Fine. Whatever you say, love." You kiss her head and get up to make some actual breakfast — which, today, will consist of a simple oatmeal with some bananas and peanut butter. Warming and comforting, and also nice when you have a cold.
You have breakfast in bed, for the sake of it being much more comfortable. Natasha eats about half of her bowl, then she's full. She sets it aside and lays down, closing her eyes again. It breaks your heart to see her feeling unwell.
"I'm going into town later", you say quietly. "To buy some medicine. Cough drops, more tea, all the good stuff."
"I'm not-"
"Yes, you are." You kiss her temple, feeling how hot she is due to her fever. You frown, suddenly not so sure whether you want to go into town and leave her alone. Driving there, getting everything and then driving back will take at least an hour and a half. "Are you sure you can stay here by yourself?", you ask, putting your hand on her cheek, caressing it.
She looks at you, her eyes tired. "I don't know", she mumbles. "Can you stay?"
"Of course I can. But the medicine..."
"Then go", Natasha says, taking your hand. "I'll sleep until you get back. I'll be okay."
"Sure?", you ask softly.
"Sure", she confirms, and you leave a gentle kiss on her temple. Then you quickly get ready and hurry outside, where you hop into the car and drive away. You want to come back as soon as possible, so you speed into town, buy everything as fast as you can and then drive back.
Two bags in your arms, you open the door to the trailer and go inside. It's completely silent.
A quick glance into the bedroom tells you that Natasha's asleep; she's laying on her stomach, her arms underneath her pillow. She looks peaceful and like she's finally getting some rest, so you carefully close the door and go to the kitchen.
You make chicken noodle soup and a thermos flask full of tea, and when Natasha wakes up, you deliver everything to her. She eats the soup within minutes, then asks for more. You bring her another full bowl, which she also empties.
In the evening, she seems to be doing much better already. The redhead is in your arms, her head on your chest and your hands on her stomach as she's lying between your legs. She's still warm from the fever, so you only use one blanket instead of two.
You're watching a movie together, a romcom. When she laughs, your stomach tingles and you can't help but smile. The way you've fallen for her is actually insane.
. . .
Two days later, Natasha is the same as before again — thankfully. She's completely healthy (except for the occasional cough she still has) and full of energy, as she's constantly doing stuff around the trailer.
Yes, you're apparently 'stuff', too.
"Nat", you moan, your hands buried in her hair as she's going down on you. Her face between your legs, you're laying on your bed with your back arching as she buries her tongue inside of you, her fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. It's almost completely dark in your bedroom, and the only thing you can feel is her. Everything else is blurry and not of interest anymore.
You can feel her nose bump against your clit a few times, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. You let out a quiet whine as you tug on her hair, begging her for relief.
Then, she finally lets you come. Natasha helps you ride out your orgasm, then she lifts her head, a small smirk on her lips.
"That was mean", you breathe, referring to her edging you. She likes doing that, for whatever reason.
"It was sexy." She kisses you, making you taste yourself. You feel like you're about to become a puddle when she does that.
"Okay...", you whisper against her lips as you wrap your arms around her neck. "Maybe it was."
She smirks and kisses you again.
. . .
What you hear outside the next morning frightens you.
They're sirens, waking you up and making the blood in your veins freeze. You stare at Natasha, your heart thumping in your chest.
"Ross", she says quietly, grabbing the gun on her nightstand.
You get out of bed, grabbing your gun as well. Ever since you got here, it's been laying underneath your side of the bed. Now, it might be the time to use it — unfortunately.
When you glance outside, you can see Ross and a few of his people get out of a massive van. They're all armed and wearing bulletproof vests and masks. You swallow, turning around to look at Natasha.
"They're here."
She nods, then leans in to gently kiss your temple.
"We'll be okay", she promises, whispering.
And you step out of the trailer.
. . .
a/n: last one!!