Imagines and more

Icy cold ♥️ Natasha

You absentmindedly trail the tip of your finger over the small indent on the countertop as you watch your girlfriend stifle yet another sneeze into the bend of her arm. It was evening time on a rainy Saturday, and both of you were due to leave for your joint mission in just a few short hours.

It was a simple stakeout mission to gather intel; an overnight stay in a cabin just miles away from your stakeout spot. It was something either one of you were more than capable of doing alone but fury was adamant you went together due to the amount of government officials involved.

One of you would act as a look out of sorts whilst the other would grab the disk drive containing the information, and then you'd have promptly a minute to get back to the quinjet before someone would realise it was gone.

All was going to plan until Natasha had woken up with a stuffy nose and a scratchy throat. She was adamant she was fine, but you knew better than to believe her. You'd decided to humour her anyway, but you knew you only had so long before she would inevitably succumb to her illness meaning the sooner you left, the better.

"I'll go pack the quinjet. Meet you there in twenty?" You ask, and Natasha flickers her eyes up to you before nodding her head. Her cheeks were flushed, but when you lean forward to press a kiss to her forehead, she didn't seem to have a fever easing your nerves ever so lightly.

"Okay." She murmurs as the corners of her lips quirk up into a small smile, and you return it, giving her shoulder a soothing squeeze before heading towards your shared bedroom.

*

Just as the clock strikes eight, Natasha makes her way onto the quinjet adorned in a simple jeans and T-shirt. In her grasp was a bag containing what you assumed was her black widow suit, her guns and everything else that would be needed throughout the two day mission, and you watch as she sets it down before coming to join you in front of the controls.

"Hi baby. Ready to go?" You ask, watching as she makes quick work of buckling herself in. Natasha clears her throat softly as she flickers her eyes over to you, and you see her nod softly prompting you to get the quinjet up into the air. You remain in the cockpit as FRIDAY takes over the controls, watching from the corner of your eye as Natasha grabs her bag before disappearing into one of the small rooms at the back of the jet.

She was back before you could really miss her, now dressed in her widow suit. As she gets closer, you notice that her cheeks were seemingly more flushed than they had been just moments prior. You hold open your arms as she gets closer on the off chance she would drop her guard for a little while and let you hold her, and though she seemingly hesitates, she does step into your arms and allow you to tug her onto your thighs. She sits sideways, arm thrown over your shoulder.

"You feeling okay?" You ask, securing an arm around her waist as you press the backs of your fingers against the skin of her cheek, and Natasha nods her head.

"I'm okay." she murmurs as she lays her head against your own, and you simply nod in response, knowing it wouldn't be wise to push. You'd made that mistake before, back at the beginning of your relationship and you weren't about to do it again. Being on Natasha's bad side was scary.

"Alright," you secure your hands together against her hip, squeezing gently with a small sigh as you begin rocking you both back and forth, "just, tell me if that changes okay? I know it won't change things with the mission, but I'd like to know if you're not feeling good."

Natasha simply nods as she tightens her arms around you, and you give her yet another gentle squeeze as you focus your attention out of the quinjet window. The journey to your location takes promptly two hours, Natasha spending most of that time perched comfortably on your lap. She barely utters a word, but does stifle many sneezes and sniffles against you in between rough bouts of sleep.