#mcu snz
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Heroes Don't Get Sick
〚 Notes - Hey, just a little fluffy comfort fic :) Not really much else to say! 〛
〚 Pairing - WandaNat x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - After your sick girlfriends push themselves too hard in training without your knowledge, you take it into your own hands to take care of them 〛
〚 Wordcount - 2070 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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“Is that the grim reaper?” Was the response that was croaked out after you knocked loudly on the wooden door the changing rooms, announcing your entrance.
“No darling, unfortunately it's just me.” You sighed, seeing Wanda sat panting as she tried to get her breath back after her long few hours of relentless training, slick sweat dripping down her face as she leaned back against a row of lockers.
“Baby, what were you thinking?” You continued, your voice calm as you came to sit next to her on the bench, “Since when do we train this hard when sick? Nevermind, better question, who sparred with you when you’re obviously this sick?”
Wanda looked down the the floor, avoiding your gaze as she gave a few liquid sniffles, “It was just me and Natty.”
“Nat let you train with her?” It was hard to disguise the surprise in your voice. But nothing could’ve prepared you for what came next. The door swung open loudly behind you, causing to jump a little but before you could turn around to see who it was that had came into the room, a series of loud sneezes answered that question for you.
“Nat?”
You called out, turning around to see Natasha standing in the doorway, red-faced and sniffling. It seemed that Wanda wasn't the only one who had been training while sick.
“Hey,” Natasha greeted, her voice sounding painfully raspier then usual, “Sorry, didn't mean to startle you baby.”
You shook your head in disbelief, “You two are unbelievable. You’re both sick?”
Nat sighed and went to disagree but the constant tingling in her nose reached its peak and she ducked away from the two of you, shoving her head down into her elbow.
“Hh-Hutshoo! Hhi’htshoo! Heh…Hh’iiitshoo!”
Your eyebrows raised in surprise as your girlfriend rubbed at her nose, “Bless you sweetie, you definitely sound like you’ve come down with the same bug as poor Wands.”
“No, no. I’m not sick.” Natasha sniffled as she tried to defend herself, “Lil’ witchy is sick, poor baby, but I’m fine Y/N.”
Wanda whined at the nickname, “Natty there’s no point being stubborn now.”
“No. I’m fine, still good for another few rounds.” She mumbled as she stretched out her arms trying her best not to groan at the aching settling in her muscles.
You sighed deeply, shaking your head in disbelief, “Both of you are in no condition to be training, let alone sparring with each other.”
Natasha leaned against one of the large pillars in the changing room, “We had to train, there's no way around it.”
“You two need to take care of yourselves first, your health is more important than training.” You scolded, gently placing a hand on Wanda's forehead to check her temperature.
Truthfully, you couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated at the situation. Both Wanda and Natasha were both clearly sick, and they had been training like nothing was wrong. As much as you wanted to scold them further for their ignorance, you knew it wouldn't do any good. Instead, you decided to take charge of the situation.
“Okay, okay. First of all,” You huffed as you turned to the sniffling redhead, “You. Sit.”
There was a stuffy groan in complaint, but nevertheless Nat obeyed, and she came to sit next to Wanda, letting the exhausted witch lean against her, wrapping her arm around her comfortingly when it became clear she could no longer keep herself awake much longer making Nat begin to regret going so hard on her during the session.
“Right, I have questions.” You started, “When did you both get sick? You were fine yesterday so, when did this kick in?”
Nat frowned up at you, ready to dispute your claim, “I'm not sic-“
“This morning.” Wanda interrupted before coughing against Nat’s shoulder, too tired to move her head, “Woke up just feeling all icky.”
You nodded, taking note of the information before turning to Nat, “And you?”
Your girlfriend didn’t respond this time, instead she chose to stare blankly forward, not making eye contact. You knew that normally Nat never would’ve let Wanda train when sick, especially to the point of exhaustion so it was obvious something was wrong. You took this as a sign to kneel down to make meet her hidden gaze whilst simultaneously reaching up to press your cool palm against her forehead, “Oh, Natasha.” You sighed as you registered the heat blazing from her skin.
“You’re burning up, love. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You scolded but kept your voice calm as you brushed back her slightly sweaty hair from her face.
Natasha only replied with a weak shrug knowing there was no denying it now, “I didn’t want to worry you.”
You sighed, knowing all too well how stubborn she could be, “You should’ve told me, baby. It’s not like you to keep things from me. Now did you wake up sick too?”
“I know, I’m sorry... I woke up like this.” Natasha sniffled, leaning further into your touch before quickly turning away to muffle a set of desperate sounding sneezes, jostling the witch still resting against her.
“Bless you, my love. Right, well, there’s no way either of you are training anymore today. You both need to rest.” You declared, standing up and pulling both Wanda and Natasha up with you.
“Y/N, I have to train still. I have a mission coming up soon.” Natasha protested weakly before skulking off to go tear off some paper towels to blow her running nose with.
“No, you need to rest and get better. If you go on a mission like this, you’ll only make things worse.” You countered firmly, “Plus that rough tissue can’t feel good against that red nose of yours, I can get you something softer back in the room.”
Wanda nodded in agreement, “They’re right, Natty. You need to rest and if you feel as crappy as I do then theres no way you shoul- Hh’iishuu! Hhi! Hii’tshoo!”
She broke off from her sentence, ducking her head into her hands as she sneezed, grimacing at them in slight disgust afterwards.
Natasha looked at both of you, her expression softening as she realised the truth in your words, not only that, she could see the plain exhaustion settling behind her girlfriend’s tired eyes, “Bless you Wands. Now I’m not saying I’m that sick, that’s not at all what I’m saying, but maybe just this once resting could be good.”
You smiled, feeling relieved that she’s finally given in at least a little, “Good. Now, let’s get you both back to our room so you can get some rest.”
With a little bit extra of coaxing, you managed to get both Wanda and Natasha back to your room and into bed without much of a hassle. Albeit you had to practically carry the poor brunette there.
Once they were settled in bed, you went into full nurse mode. You grabbed a thermometer and took their temperatures, handed out water, and made sure they were both comfortable. Wanda had fallen asleep almost instantly, but Natasha was still wide awake, her eyes droopy but refusing to close.
“Hey,” you whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her and running a hand through her hair, “What’s on your mind sweetheart?”
Natasha sighed, “Just thinking about all the things I need to do. I hate being stuck in bed like this feeling all weak and miserab- Hhh’tshhoo!”
“Bless you darling, I know you do, but you need to take care of yourself first. You can’t do anything if you’re not feeling well.” You told her, tucking a loose strand of fallen hair behind her ear.
“I know,” Natasha conceded as she accepted some tissues that you offered out to her, scrunching up her red nose as she rubbed it, “I just feel useless.”
“You’re not useless,” you reassured her, “You’re taking care of yourself, which is important.”
Natasha nodded, sniffling again before settling further into the pillows. You sat with her for a while, running your fingers through her hair and letting her rest. After a few minutes, her breathing evened out, and you knew she had finally fallen asleep.
And that would’ve been great, if she hadn’t accidentally disturbed Wanda back awake when she buried down into the duvet.
Wanda grumbled, rubbing her eyes sleepily, “What’s going on?”
“Sorry, Wandie. Nat just fell asleep.” You explained softly, trying to soothe her back to sleep.
Wanda nodded, sniffling slightly, “Can you stay with us until we I fall back asleep? I don’t like being alone when I’m sick and I don’t wanna wake Nat up.”
“Of course, love. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” You promised, pulling the blankets up higher around them both.
If a perfect world they’re slumber would’ve gone on forever, waking up hours maybe even a day later feeling much better, but this isn’t a perfect world. The small hand on the clock had barely made two full circles before your two girlfriends began to stir.
Natasha was the first to wake up, blinking sleepily and rubbing her eyes. “How long was I out for?” she asked, her voice still groggy.
“Not too long, love. Just a couple of hours.” You replied, sitting up from the chair you had been dozing off in.
Wanda stirred next, letting out a small groan as she opened her eyes. “Ugh, I still feel terrible.” She muttered, sniffling and wiping her nose with a crumpled-up tissue.
“I know, sweetheart. But you both need to rest and let your bodies fight off these colds.” You reminded them gently.
Natasha nodded, sitting up slowly and glancing over at the sniffling Wanda. “How are you feeling baby?” she asked, concern etched on her own fever flushed face.
Wanda shrugged, “Not great, but not worse either.” She leaned into Natasha, seeking comfort and warmth, “you?”
“Pretty much the same.” Natasha wrapped her arms around Wanda, holding her close. “We’ll be okay though, I promise.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Your girls were going to be okay, and you would take care of them every step of the way.
As the day progressed, you made sure to keep a close eye on both Wanda and Natasha, checking their temperatures and making sure they were comfortable. They both slept on and off, and you were thankful for the moments of peace and quiet.
By evening, both of your girlfriends were feeling a little bit better, and you suggested watching a movie to take their minds off things. You settled in bed with them, blankets piled high, and pillows propped up, and started the movie.
In all honesty, the film hadn’t even gotten 5 minutes through before you finally felt the exhaustion of the day catch up to you.
You tried to fight it off, determined to stay awake for the sake of your sick girlfriends. But the warm, cosy bed and the gentle hum of the movie were too much for your tired body. Soon enough, you found yourself dozing off, your head resting on Natasha's shoulder.
Wanda noticed first, giggling softly as she nudged Natasha to look down at you. Natasha smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Looks like someone's tuckered out," she whispered.
Wanda nodded, snuggling closer to Natasha. "We should let them sleep," she said softly.
Natasha agreed, reaching over to turn off the movie. You stirred slightly but didn't wake up as your girlfriends settled in next to you, the three of you wrapped up in blankets and each other.
As you slept, your girlfriends talked quietly, discussing everything from their favourite movies to their plans for the future. They occasionally checked on your temperature, hoping you’d managed to avoid catching whatever bug had them feeling so crappy, and made sure you were comfortable, but otherwise they let you sleep peacefully inbetween them.
The sound of coughing and damp sniffles still filled the room, but despite the discomfort, there was a sense of closeness and love that permeated the air. Eventually both Wanda and Nat began to grow tired again, cuddling up to either side of you as they rested their heavy feeling heads against their soft pillows. All the three of you were cuddled in each other’s arms, embraced in the warm hold of love. Who could ask for more than that?
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Oh yall. OHHH YALLL. I comm'd @just-a-nervous-bean to do a scene from my Loki fic and ...WOOOFFF...Oh gawd, it's EXACTLY what I pictured. I love bean's style, holy #$&%. The color, the faces, THE LOOSE TIE ON THE JACKET!! And Thor's magnificent hair~ ASSGFJOIGOHFDS
I'll be looking at this for years to come. Expect future reblogs on this and my other comm. I'm gonna go flail now.
See my Loki masterlist here! Or the chapter this scene is from here!
#snz#snz art#Lo/ki#Lo/ki Th/or#rrrghhh#the lightning snz#I can't#magical snz#whump#oh gawd thor in the bandages#please#askfjghd#mcu loki
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Snz fanart of Natasha Romanoff for @sunflower-snz
#@sunflower-snz#fanart#pencil drawing#pencil#mcu#mcu natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff#snz fet#snzblr#sneeze art#24snzvalentines#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#artwork#cartoon art#artists on tumblr#my art#pencil sketch#pencil art#sneezeblr#sneeze kink#snz kink#snzfucker#snzzzzz
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Mmmm another prompt suggestion:
Bucky being horribly sneezy (cold or allergies, your choice) around the civil war era so many of the avengers are very wary around him and don’t know what to make of this unstable, brooding guy having the sneezes?
Wait stop this is so funny and I’ve never thought about this before??? Enjoy this tiny lil drabble!
*~*~*~*~
The room was awkwardly silent. Everyone sat around just staring at Bucky, who was on the couch scrubbing at his nose.
“Is he… broken?” Clint asked.
“It’s his allergies.” Steve quipped back.
“Do robots have allergies?” Sam scoffed.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “I can hear you, you know… hhh - ‘tSCH! H’NxXt!”
Compared to his size and strength, the sneezes that escaped him were quite small. Kittenish, even.
“Bless you, Buck.” Steve pat his shoulder.
“Tha’gks.”
A laugh slipped out of Sam before he could stop it.
“Alright. I’m going upstairs.” Bucky groaned, getting up off the couch. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Aw Buck, they’re only teasing!”
Steve tried to do damage control, turning and rolling his eyes at the others before following the winter soldier upstairs.
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Chill
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I wrote a thing! A Bucky-With-A-Cold scenario bc that is my favorite thing in this life, in which he is pretty Winter Soldier-y but not in an angsty way, and Steve is all tender for him.
Canon-ish, post-WS, Steve Bucky and Sam are going on missions against Hydra while Bucky/the Soldier recovers his memories & self.
IDK about this title but I'm stoked I finished this so it's goin up :D
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“…Hey Buck. You wakin’ up?”
The Soldier cracked his eyes open. Took stock of his surroundings: bare wood, high windows looking out onto cold gray sky and earth, unfamiliar lumpy couch, scratchy wool blanket, tall blond man hovering with a cup of something steaming in his hands— Steve. He was with Steve.
He relaxed as the rest came trickling back. Safehouse. Northern Canada. A mission: chasing down a small Hydra cell that had gone to ground in this remote area. Then… helicopters…
“How are you feeling?” Steve liked to ask that question. The Soldier had come to realize it wasn’t a taunt or a deliberate attempt to confuse him or make him feel weak, but it was still hard to answer most of the time. He grunted vaguely, then frowned at the scratchy ache in his throat. Had he been screaming in his sleep? There wasn’t the tight misery on Steve’s face that usually resulted from that.
He was actually smiling a bit, managing to look concerned but also the slightest bit amused. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Helicopters.” Big ones. “Three of them. You, me, and” the man with the wings— “Sam. He was fine. I took out the crew on mine. You fell,” he finished accusingly. Talking scratched at his throat and resonated oddly in his nose, which felt sort of cotton-wool-stuffed and sensitive and increasingly tingly.
Steve’s eyes went to his leg and he finally noticed the splint and bandage engulfing his right knee. “…Then what happened.” He still forgot to put inflection into his voice sometimes, to make his words a question instead of a flat statement. Steve didn’t mind, anyhow.
“You went jumping right after me, ya goof.” Steve suppressed a chuckle as Bucky’s eyes narrowed further at the suggestion that he and not Steve was the goof. “Threw me clear of the hole in the ice while the damn helicopter crashed on top of you.” It hadn’t been funny at the time, but Bucky lying safe on the couch, bundled in blankets, and giving him that accusing narrow-eyed glare that was so familiar, was making him feel giddy with relief and happiness.
He was also starting to scrunch and wrinkle his nose a little —Steve had a guess why— and it was a little, well, cute. “A rotor hit your leg, not too hard but hard enough for a fracture and a pretty bad wound, and you sunk with the chopper, so you were under for a few minutes before me and Sam could get to you. You were hypothermic. I was worried.” He knew his face was doing something very soft and tender but he couldn’t help it. Bucky looked exasperated as he often did in response to Steve’s worry. He was also getting a hazy, confused little expression on his face.
The Soldier wanted to roll his eyes, a recently discovered expression Steve often inspired, and snark back at the big blond idiot, but before he could, the building tingling itch in his nose crested, seized his breath in a series of hitches, and— “heh…hih-ehschoo!” it only abated for an instant, and then returned. “hitschoo! …heh-heh, adt—” the last one fizzled away and left him blinking and shaking his head. The cotton-wool feeling was still there, even more than before.
Steve looked more sympathetic than surprised. “Bless you. This is for you to drink, if you want it—” he put the cup of tea on the coffee table within arm’s reach. “It’s good for sore throats, which I think you might have right now.”
The Soldier squinted at him suspiciously. How did he know that? He sniffled. The feeling that had made him sneeze had backed off, but felt like it could return any second.
Steve did his concerned smile thing. “I think you might be a little, well, sick. There was a mention in—in a file I found” now he was glaring at the floor like he’d like to murder it. “Something about immune sensitivity to severe cold temperature. And even though the serum’s supposed to stop us ever getting sick, I’ve gotten a little under the weather when I was healing from an injury before. You might be dealing with a cold, pal. Might not have had one since the last one you caught off me in the ‘40s, or, I guess, you might not remember.”
The Soldier didn’t remember much from Before, though things came back once in a while. Did he remember feeling like this? He had to sniffle again. His head and face were starting to feel big, and heavy, and a soft pounding had started up behind his eyes. His leg hurt, but that was more familiar than this other —just feel crummy, Stevie—feeling.
He shrugged uncertainly in lieu of answering, sat upright just enough to reach the cup of tea and take a few cautious sips. It hadn’t been an order, but he could tell Steve wanted him to drink it. It did feel good on the soreness in his throat. But the steam rising from the cup, despite being a barely perceptible sensation, felt like a feather tickling his nose, and suddenly the sneezes were back.
“hdtsch, h-h-hitsch!...hitshiew!” He turned toward the back of the couch and managed not to spill the tea, sniffled a few times in a row, but his nose wasn’t done: “huh…huh-ISHhhoo!”
“Bless you, Buck! I think that’s a ‘yes’ on catching a cold. Let me get you some tissues, or find something in this place that’ll work…” Steve moved off with purpose as he spoke. It was a safehouse: well-stocked with non-perishable food and basic medical necessities, but not much else. He waffled between bandage cloth and toilet paper for a few seconds and then grabbed both. As he returned to Bucky on the couch he heard another soft but itchy-sounding sneeze— “hih-etssch!” followed by a series of urgent sniffles. “Here you go, pal. Couldn’t find tissues but you can blow your nose with either of these.”
Bucky grabbed a rectangular piece of cloth meant for bandaging wounds, clearly needing to tend to his nose too much to freeze over the decision as he still sometimes did with minor choices offered to him, and blew his nose with an expression of relief.
“Sorry I don’t have any handkerchiefs. I carried one for a while after I woke up, but people don’t use them much anymore and I got tired of getting looks like I was insane or getting called ‘Grandpa’ every time I pulled one out.”
Bucky blinked up at him. His nostrils were already pink and sensitive-looking, and there was a slight flush showing on his cheeks as well. “I don’t remember…this,” he said, gesturing at his face with the makeshift tissue. His voice was getting a bit rough and congested. He cleared his throat. “S’not too bad.” He rubbed his nose itchily, turning it more red, and gave a soft cough. His eyebrows turned up and he gave a shivery inhale like he was about to sneeze, but then it deserted him and he sunk back onto the couch cushion with a sigh. He looked like he was feeling pretty miserable, whatever he might say.
“Not too bad, but not too much fun, either. I sure remember how it felt for me.” Steve said softly, putting his hand on his friend’s warm forehead. Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, and on instinct Steve put the back of his hand to Bucky’s cheek, and watched as he leaned into the soft cool touch, vulnerable in a way he so rarely was. Something clenched in Steve’s chest. “You definitely have a fever. I’m sure you’ll be better before long, especially if you rest. Get some more sleep; I’ll heat up some soup when you wake up.”
“What ‘bout you,” murmured Bucky sleepily, followed by another soft sniffle.
“Don’t worry about me, Buck.” Steve could feel how sappy his expression must be, and was grateful Sam was sacked out in the back bedroom. “I ain’t tired yet, I’ll be on watch.”
“You were—snfff—in the water too” said Bucky accusingly, fighting sleep as he tried to turn the tables of fussing onto Steve.
“You tossed me outta there so fast I barely had time to get wet.” Steve’s eyes twinkled as he smiled. “Too worried about me, as usual.” Bucky scowled at that like Steve knew he would, scrunching his red nose.
“Like hell. Just didn’t want you to go getting yourself…fro—frohoze…huhh…HUH—USHchoo! Ugh. Frozen againd.” Bucky replied, interrupting himself with a heavy sneeze into the cloth in his hand. He really sounded like he had a cold. He lifted the cloth again just as he shivered into a tiny soft “hih-tishh” and blew his nose tiredly.
“Sleep, Buck.” Steve gave into the urge to stroke his hair and Bucky gave a little sigh, eyes finally sliding closed. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
#snzfic#captain america#cute sick bucky#cute sneezy bucky#snz kink#snzblr#mcu#bucky barnes#winter soldier#steve rogers
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would anyone be interested if i wrote any pe/ter pa/rker snz content...
#i'm talking mcu as well as an/drew ga/rfield version <3#i've been missing petey so much lately#snz#snzfic#snzblr
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i don't think there's enough mcu snz content on here...... And if there is clearly im.not doing a very good job of finding it.
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Guidelines for messages sent as "asks"
Ok, ok, I admit it. I have a degree in Communication and Journalism. Post college, I worked for four years as a Technical Writer and Data Manager for a major engineering firm. I'm not saying this to be elitist. I'm saying it to let you know that I'm an autistic Millennial who reads like an autistic Millennial, and sometimes I get confused when I read my messages.
I KNOW Tumblr is NOT the place for business emails. I AM NOT asking for formality here. Tumblr is for fun; not for checking your serial commas. I just think maybe a tone of care and camaraderie can be shown through a more clearly written ask.
First, as you know, I don't mind if you send me a personal question, headcanon, prompt, symbol from an ask game, more explanation of something I glossed over... It's all fine. Really.
--But, for the ease of reading and getting back to you about your messages, PLEASE use a greeting (optional, but generally a friendly idea).
--State the purpose of your message (like, I have an idea for a prompt... OR you mentioned remodeling your hamster's house...), so I know if I am going to respond by writing a story or dashing off a quip to answer the ask right away.
--If you are sharing a headcanon, please state so at the beginning of your message. If said headcanon does not fit the paradigm of my writing 'verses, please indicate that it not a prompt.
--When sending asks for games, the only necessary component is the emoji or key word. If you want to say hello as well, that's lovely, but not required.
I have a longer, more in-depth list somewhere else where I have better explanations on what I write and don't write, but, just in response to a couple of prompts (?) that landed recently, here are some do's and don't's I'd like to make clear.
I DO write
Emeto (pertaining to all of the following): illness, graphic i&i, fevers, mental health (including EDs), PTSD, migraines, hospital/medical information, nightmares/flashbacks, trans medical information, mild erotica
I DO NOT write
Belly kink, overeating, erotic vomiting in any way/shape/form, snz, scat, excessive belching and bodily sounds, any of the previous being linked to erotica, any of the above involving children (canonically aged as late high school--at my own discretion).
I also do not write things that are not medically possible.
I do not write things that are not militarily possible, or that are made so using canon information.
I currently write for the MCU only, though this includes all my spinoff 'verses and AUs, and my series' for Jessica Jones and Daredevil.
I truly don't mean this to be punitive. Just a reminder to keep everyone comfortable and safe.
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💤💞🤧 for Nat? :)
Sleepy, spoons, sneezes. I love this so much, thanks for the request :)
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Natasha walked quietly into your shared room. She’d just returned home from her latest mission, which had been brutal, to put it mildly. And on top of a rough mission, she was sick. All Nat wanted was to sleep and relax and get better, and so she quickly changed out of her suit and into pajamas, before sliding under the covers. Natasha scooted up close to you so that she was spooning you from behind. The movement and arm around your waist woke you up, and you made a small, sleepy noise.
“Nat?” You then asked, your voice hoarse from sleep.
“It’s me,” she confirmed, nuzzling her nose against your neck. You didn’t think anything of it, but Nat was trying to quell the itch that had grown stronger in her nose. Unfortunately it didn’t work, and she was curling inward on herself as much as she could to let out a few sneezes.
“H’h- heh’hetshioo! Husshooo! h’Heh...hetschoo!”
“Bless you,” you said with a frown. You had felt the force of those sneezes, and they sounded strong too. Nat didn’t usually sneeze like that, unless she was sick.
“Thanks.” There was a thick sniffle.
“Natasha?” You murmured, turning so that you were lying on your back. You looked at her. Her nose was still twitching and it looked like even the slightest touch would set her off all over again. “Are you sick?”
“I picked up a.. heh..h’h.. snnff.. small cold, that’s all,” she replied, her words rushed towards the end, trying to stave off the inevitable sneezes.
“That’s the same thing as being sick,” you teased, lightly running your finger down her nose. That was most definitely enough to set off some sneezes, and you removed your finger quickly as Nat was curling inward and cupping her hands around her face.
“H’huptschoo! Heh-hetshioo! Heh’h.. h’h... Ugh. That was mean.”
“Bless you. You were going to sneeze anyway,” you chuckled. “It was only a matter of time.”
Nat rolled her eyes and scooted closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder.
“I’m sorry you don’t feel well baby,” you whispered, your fingers finding their way into her hair. She shrugged against you.
“It’s okay. At least I’m home now.”
You hummed in agreement and listened as her breathing evened out, save for some slight hitching whenever the itch in her nose got too strong. Once you thought she was asleep, you snuggled deeper into the blankets and relaxed your hold on her as your eyes closed. You were nearly asleep when Natasha took a deep and unexpected inhale.
“Heh’h- husshooo!”
“Bless you,” you whispered.
“Sorry,” Nat replied. You shook your head.
“Don’t be sorry. You can’t control it babe, even though you’d like to think you can,” you let out a sleepy laugh. Nat stuck her tongue out against your neck, causing you to squirm.
“Stop, it’s bedtime,” you laughed, turning onto your side so that Nat could spoon you from behind. She readjusted and cuddled into you.
“Night, Y/N.”
#natasha romanoff x reader#sickfic#snzfic#mcu snz#natasha romanoff#sick natasha romanoff#my fic#whump#whumpfic#requested
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That’s What Friends Are For
Set in a world where all the Avengers live happily together in Avengers Tower. Everyone gets along, no friendship-threatening arguments (Civil War who?). Pre-slash stevtony, the Avengers are good friends.
This will (hopefully) have multiple parts :)
Part 1:
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Spring in New York city is slowly setting in. The weather is getting warmer, the trees are coming into leaf, the flowers are blooming, and the birds are tweeting and chirping like their lives depend on it, so loud that you can hear it in spite of the noisy traffic in the busy city.
Couples are going on walks and picnics in Central Park, children are eating ice cream, and people are wearing shorts and t-shirts, even though it is still slightly too chilly whenever the light breeze catches on.
Even the Avengers love the transition from the cold and frosty winter, to the sunny and joyful spring-time.
All things considered, spring is lovely, and most of if not the entire team would argue that it is the best time of the year to spend in New York.
Well, that excludes Steve. Steve was not having any of it.
“ehhTIISH’oo! Ugh.”
Because, for Steve, spring-time meant allergy-season. And Steve absolutely hated allergy-season.
Growing up, Steve probably had even possible seasonal allergy, and he had hoped they’d faded away as he got the serum. But just like Dr. Erskine had said. The serum amplifies everything that’s inside. Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.
Steve hadn’t considered that would also apply to his allergies. At least his asthma isn’t as bad, which he doesn’t quite understand why, but definitely doesn’t complain about. The allergies, though? Well, they don’t appear as frequent as they used to, at least not for longer time periods, but when do hit him. Oh God, that’s a whole different story.
“uh-huhTSCHusshh! SNFF! h’UHh… uhhISCHIEW!”
He sneezes off to the side, his hair falling into his eyes as his waist snaps in half. Rubbing at his itchy eyes, he lets out a stuffy sigh and leans back in his chair.
He’s waiting for the rest of the team to turn up for the mandatory post-operation debrief and, as usual, Steve’s the first to show. Somehow, even when voluntarily coordinating search and rescue, he always manages to escape medical and get ready to close up for the day. Maybe it’s because he hates procrastinating, or maybe he’s just too exhausted and beat up to keep his head clear for long. Today, it’s definitely the latter.
He wants nothing more than to just go to bed, but he has an important work meeting afterwards. As if fighting off an army of robotic aliens wasn’t enough for one day.
“SnffSNF! huhh- hutschhuh! he-uhh…” He brings up an arm, aiming the sneeze at his elbow, keeping it up as he feels another one coming on, but it’s stuck. Great, he thinks to himself and lets out a congested grunt.
“You hangin’ in there, Stevie?”
Looking up with bleary eyes, Steve sees Bucky emerging from the door. He’s leaning against the door frame, his hair still damp from sweat and kept in a bun, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.
“uhh… yeeh- yeah, I’m fine. snf! Just wanna get this over with.”
“That makes two of us,” Bucky moves to sit down next to Steve, wincing slightly when he rolls his shoulder.
“Your arm okay?” Steve frowns a little, concern clear on his face. He knows not to worry too much, but he can’t help it.
“It’ll be okay,” Bucky shrugs. “Stark’s going to take a look at it after debrief. If he and the rest of them could speed the fuck up and actually get here,” he quips with a grin.
Steve huffs a laugh and gives a nod. “Yeah. Should be here soon enough, I hope. I have to be somewhere after this.”
Bucky cocks an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, in bed after a long shower. That’s where you should be. You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks, Buck. Always so supportive,” Steve jokes, lightly nudging Bucky good shoulder. “Wish I could be going to bed, though. Have a meeting, can’t miss it.”
“Y’know, this is the worst time for you. You literally spent hours outside today. Pollen count’s ridiculous. You’re going to be a mess — a bigger mess — by tonight.”
“I know,” Steve sighs heavily and harshly scrubs at his face. Just hearing someone say the word pollen makes his face prickle and his nose twitch uncontrollably. Steve sniffles quickly, and Bucky notices it immediately and quickly grabs a tissue from the side table and hands it to Steve, who thankfully accepts it.
“Bless ya, punk,” Bucky says preemptively, smiling sympathetically.
Steve gives him a displeased glare before burying his face in the soft material. “tiisshh! ish! heIIiishh! Guhh.” He sniffles thickly, and groans annoyedly. He’s gotten to the point where the sneezes do nothing apart from making him even more sniffly. Ridding the itch, it definitely does not.
“Those didn’t sound helpful at all,” Bucky murmurs and gives Steve’s shoulder a squeeze.
Steve just shakes his head and worries at his nose with the tissue. “They weren’t.”
Bucky glances over his shoulder, hoping that the rest of the team will enter soon enough, but it seems unlikely. He grunts as he stands and walks towards the door. “I’ll go tell them to get their shit together and hurry.”
Steve doesn’t get to object before Bucky has left the room, and, somehow, everyone is gathered in the room less than five minutes later. (How Bucky did that is a mystery to Steve. He’ll have to ask him how to do that later.)
***
About halfway through the debrief, Steve is ready to die. He’s kept fairly composed so far; frequent sniffles and teary eyes, but no sneezing yet. They are just about to discuss the damage and decide how to clean up to city after the numerous destructions when Steve’s nose starts tickling.
“Casualties?” he hears someone ask, but he’s too busy trying to fight off the itch, rubbing his nostrils with his knuckles, to perceive who asked.
“Still unclear… 300 confirmed so far. Could be more,” Fury answers seriously. “We’ll hopefully have exact numbers once the city’s cleared.”
Steve tries to focus, he really does, but the tickle is growing stronger and his breath starts catching in small, desperate gasps. He turns to stifle a quick double into his shoulder, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to him.
“hehNGXTt! hii’YINgch!”
Bucky could recognize that withheld sound anywhere, but he knows Steve wouldn’t want everyone’s eyes staring at him so he refrains from blessing him. Natasha, who everyone knows is extremely observant, also seems to notice as she eyes Steve when his body jerks slightly. She catches Bucky’s eyes as they’re both watch their miserable friend, and the look they share doesn’t need any words.
Steve doesn’t even get a chance to breathe before the tingling sensation comes back, more powerful than before, and Steve knows it’s a loosing battle.
“huh- HhhehISHhoo!”
As expected, the group turns to look at him and mumbles a chorus of blessings.
“Bless ya,” he hears Bucky mumble quietly, and Clint offers a gesundheit, which seems to be his standard reaction to anyone who sneezes. Natasha discretely reaches for a tissue, presses it into his hands under the table and nods demandingly at it.
As he subtly wipes his nose with it, it seems to bring the tickle back and Steve cups his face and lets the sneezes slip out.
“h’tSCHHoo! Hih! Eh’hrushhoo!”
He sighs defeatedly and nods his thanks when a few people bless him.
Tony, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, narrows his eyes at Steve. He’s spent the better half of the debrief doing anything but pay attention to what Fury was saying, impatiently waiting for the meeting to finish. Noticing Steve’s bleary eyes and his pink nostrils, Tony figures Steve wants Fury to shut up even more than he does, which in itself in an accomplishment.
As if Tony looking at him makes Steve’s nose twitch, Steve’s eyes flutter and his nose scrunches up.
“tishh! ehhIIiishh’oo! heihhUushiew!” The fit is ticklish, makes his throat scratchy and Steve can feel the congestion pressing behind his eyes and sinuses.
Tony is now on the verge of snapping, telling Fury to shut it and round up so Steve doesn’t have to suffer any more than he already is. The guy seriously needs something to help him breathe. Tony wonders if Claritin is strong enough or if he’s going to have to spend the entire night figuring out some kind of super-soldier-allergy-shot, because he just couldn’t take another look at Steve literally sneezing his brains out. So he figures he has to stop Fury before Steve’s going to die on them. Well, dying might be an exaggeration, but judging from Steve’s expression it’s not too far off. (If anyone asks, though, it’s because Steve’s constant sniffling is annoying as hell, but in reality, Tony can’t help but feel sympathetic for his friend. Nobody can know that. Tony doesn’t do sympathy.)
He considers making JARVIS send out some sort of emergency alarm to stop the meeting, but he figures getting on Fury’s wrong side is a bad call, so he bites tongue, and impressively so. He is Tony Stark, after all, and he’s not exactly known for keeping his mouth shut. Especially when he should. But this time, he does. He makes a mental note to tell that to Pepper. She would be so proud.
***
When the debrief is finally over, Steve is half asleep, his head resting on his hand. The ten minutes of nearly constant sniffling and sneezing in the middle of the meeting exhausted him deeply, even his nose seemed too tired to itch anymore.
He doesn’t even recall the debrief ending before Bucky nudges him and he jerks awake, sitting up straight. People are shuffling out of the room as he blinks the confusion away.
Nat and Bucky are already standing up when he’s back to consciousness, both smiling solicitously at him.
“You really should be going to bed, punk,” Bucky frowns a little and Steve responds with a shrug.
“I might actually agree with Barnes on this one. You look wiped out. I think you’ve earned some well deserved rest after today, soldier,” Natasha winks kindly.
“Yeah, well, you tell Fury that,” Steve sighs. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, though. I’ll be going straight to sleep when I’m finished.”
Natasha playfully ruffles his hair, Bucky gives him an affectionate pat on the arm, and with that, the two of them flees the room.
Steve still hasn’t raised himself from the chair. His body feels heavy and drained, and for once, he might actually consider procrastinate going to the meeting. Pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut, he takes another moment to mentally prepare dealing with Fury, once again.
“You getting attached to the chair there, Rudolph?” Tony teases with a perky smile as he walks towards Steve, who is surprised by the sudden voice. He hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess so,” he chuckles lightly. “I have to be somewhere I definitely don’t want to be.”
“Meeting?”
Steve nods despairingly and Tony clicks his tongue.
“That sucks… You sound like someone who needs some time to relax. And to find some medicine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. I mean, God, you’re pathetic,” Tony jokes and the corners of Steve’s mouth quirk upwards.
“You probably haven’t. I can’t even remember the laahhst time I-I snf! felt like thiiihs. Huhh- huEEIishh’oo!” Steve says through hitchy breaths and rushes to finish the sentence before catching a quick single in the tissue he still has in his hand.
“Bless you.”
“Tha- thaahuhISHH! Sorry, thanks,” he snuffled into the crumpled piece of fabric. “h’ESHhihh! Oh, Lord have mercy on me.”
Tony hands him a fresh tissue and Steve gratefully accepts it, giving a quick, ineffective blow. By this point, he’s basically unable to breathe through his nose, but he doesn’t want to gross Tony out any more than he already is.
Tony, however, doesn’t seem to mind. “Damn, Rogers, you’re on a roll, huh? Look. I can probably pull a few strings, get you out of whatever torture they’re sending you into.”
“Are you- really?”
“Sure,” Tony shrugs.
“That- that would actually be really nice,” Steve admits shyly. He’s normally not one to ask for help, but Lord knows he needs it right now. “I owe you one.”
“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it,” Tony waves a hand. “You’ll just have to make me breakfast for the next three months, get me coffee whenever I want, babysit Clint-“
Steve laughs and elbows him.
“No, really. It’s nothing, Cap,” he says as he stands up and offers Steve a hand, which the soldier grabs and pulls himself to his feet. They exit the room together walking towards the elevator.
“Do you normally sneeze this much, by the way? I mean, you’ve probably sneezed, like, 30 times in he last hour.”
“huUShh’oo! Uhh, I-I don’t think so. I gue-. Tony?” Steve interrupts himself as Tony stopped in his tracks.
“That was so weird. Did you just sneeze on command. Like, literally just as I said the word?”
“I think there’s just a pretty good chance of me sneezing at any second, Tony.” He chuckles and shakes his head fondly.
Tony follows up and the two of them walk in silence until they reach the elevator.
“So. You go take a shower, and I’ll see to get you some meds after talking to Fury… If I’m not there in an hour or less, send out a search team, just in case Fury actually kills me,” Tony jokes.
Steve smiles tiredly at Tony as he presses the ‘up’ button on the elevator. “Thanks again, Tony. I really appreciate it.”
***
“Stark!”
Tony sighs at the sound of the recognizable voice and turns on his heels. He had to face it sooner or later.
“Nick! Always a pleasure,” Tony smiles overly wide at Fury, who rolls his eyes over someone using his first name, but ultimately decides to ignore it. It’s been a long day already, and Fury is not in the mood to deal with Tony and his sharp-witted tongue right now.
“Where’s Rogers?”
“Rogers? You mean Steve? Oh, um about that… He’s in his room,” Tony says innocently.
“In his—? I hope he’s aware of the fact that we’re having a meeting in less than five minutes?” Fury cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah, so… He’s not going to be there. Sorry. He’s having some… trouble. You know, you saw him at debrief, I don’t think he’d be able to—“
“God damnit, Rogers,” Fury mutters under his breath, then scowls. “I’ll let this one slide. But only this once. It’s been a long day, anyways.”
Huh. That went a lot smoother than Tony had anticipated. Fury actually wasn’t completely heartless.
“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Good talk, Director,” Tony claps Fury on the shoulder and is immediately out. As he walks, he gives his body a shake. He seriously hated biting his tongue, acting nice and actively trying to avoid pissing anyone off, and even a five sentence conversation with Fury was a stretch, but he thinks he did okay, all things considered. He makes another mental note to tell that to Pepper as well. She’d be even prouder.
***
“Knock knock.” Tony calls. “Cap?”
“In heeh-here! Hur’ESHH!”
Strolling towards the bedroom where the response came from, Tony tries to balance all the remedies he’d picked up on his way. The door in ajar, and Tony pushes it open with his shoulder, both hands and arms occupied. As soon as he enters the room, he suddenly drops about half of the things he’d been carrying on the floor.
In front of him stands Steve. His hair is damp from the shower and falling into his eyes. He’s wearing a pair of oversized joggers that would look ridiculous if they were worn by anyone but Steve. His cheeks are flushed pink from the heat from the shower and his nose a similar shade but probably for entirely different reason. That, and he’s not wearing a shirt.
He’s not wearing a shirt, Tony repeats in his mind. Damn. Tony has seen Steve shirtless before, but this is usually after a battle when Steve’s covered in blood and sweat, and definitely not coming straight out of a warm shower with glowing and clean skin.
And then he realizes that he’d just dropped everything on the floor and bends down to start picking the things up. “Would it have hurt to put on a shirt?” Tony mumbles lowly.
“Sorry, I was just getting dressed,” Steve smiles sheepishly as he helps Tony fetch the things. “You really went to town with the remedies, huh?”
Tony shrugs. “You know me. Why choose one when you can have them all?”
“Because it’s unnecessary?” Steve teases. “Seriously, though, the tissues had been just fine.”
“Ugh, are you always this unappreciative? God, how rude of you, Rogers.”
Steve laughs and shakes his head fondly. “That’s not what I meant. I really do appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have gone out of your way to all get this.”
“Aaand he’s back to being good, old, righteous Captain America… should have known. I didn’t, by the way. I ran into Nat and Barnes. They were on their way to provide you with all of these different supplies and medicines. If I’m being honest, which, obviously, I always am, I don’t even know what half of these things are.”
“Probably won’t work on me anyways. Medicine usually doesn’t with my metabolism,” Steve says as he reaches for the box of tissues Tony had dropped.
“Hm… You seem better, though?” Tony asks and Steve nods in agreement.
“Yeah, I think the shower did me good. I was probably covered in whatever is bothering m-me, huh— huhhISH’iew! Maybe not entirely, though” Steve comments after a sudden, strong sneeze crept up on him.
With a wry smile, Tony stands up and puts the stuff on Steve’s bedside table. He turns on the night light as Steve grabs the shirt he had laid out on the bed and pulls it over his head.
“So.”
“So,” Steve echoes.
“I’ll get going, and you, big guy, are heading straight to sleep,” Tony commands, eyeing the perfectly made bed, because of course Steve’s bed would be flawlessly made. Everything just has to be in order when it comes to Steve. He really is a hundred years old, Tony thinks.
Steve chuckles and obeys, his bare feet making soft and quiet noises as he pads across the hard wood floor.
“Yessir,” Steve says, shuffling to get under the duvet. “Oh, and thanks again, Tony.”
“That’s what friends are for. See you tomorrow, Winghead,” Tony smiles and shuts off the ceiling light. The bedside lamp illuminates Steve’s face with golden beams. His expression is tired and gentle and thankful.
“See you tomorrow, Shellhead,” Steve returns.
And with that, Tony closes the door to Steve’s bedroom. He stays outside for a few seconds until the weak light that shines through the key hole goes out and smiles satisfied.
***
#steve rogers#mcu#tony stark#natasha romanoff#bucky barnes#allergies#snz#the avengers are good friends#stevetony#pre-slash#my fic
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Maybe one with a sick Kate x reader with “I’m just a little under the weather that’s all” and “Did you come home just to look after me?” You always write Kate so well 💕💕💕
Dork-A-Saurus-Rex
〚 Notes - I wrote this last night just because honestly this req was collecting dust in my inbox and it deserved to be done :) Also God the level of hate on here rn is unbelievable :,) Still doing my 1k fics too dw!! 〛
〚 Pairing - Kate Bishop x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - When Kate decides shes gonna go home to rest, you already knew that you were going to be right there beside her. Cute, dorky comfort ensues. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 1600 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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“Hi Kit-Kat.” Your cheery voice chirped down the phone, as you sat in the break room of your office, “You on you’re lunch break now too?” You asked before taking a bite from the sandwich in your opposite hand.
“Yeah I’m on my break now too.” Kate responded only her voice sounded different - it lacked her usual energy and excitement. But there was something else too and it wasn’t until you heard her sniffle quietly that you finally registered what was wrong.
“Are you feeling oka-“
“Hh’utshhiew!” Her sudden sneeze cut you off from your question and you could practically hear the embarrassment in her tone when she quietly mumbled out a small, “Excuse me.”
You shook your head out of habit and gave a sympathetic sigh, “It’s okay, bless you. I was going to ask if you were feeling alright but I think I’ve already got my answer. I guess that lil’ nose of yours jumped ahead to reply.”
She hummed in response and you heard the sound of tissues being opened in the background, “I’m just a little under the weather that’s all. There’s been something going round all week.”
That part was true. You remembered her saying something about being short staffed due to everyone being out sick, if you’d been a little wiser you would’ve taken that as the hint to stock up on some medicine and tea.
“Im probably gonna go home early.” Your girlfriend’s slightly congested voice said finally and you couldn’t help but worry a little.
She was usually so stubborn about these sorts of things, there’d been that once time when she’d spent the night throwing up and had still insisted on going into work the next day. So for her to admit she was thinking about coming early was definitely a sign that she really wasn’t feeling too good and that she definitely needed some TLC.
“That’s probably a good idea baby, you go home and rest, okay? Oh, did you have your lunch yet?” You asked softly, she sometimes had a habit of forgetting to look after herself properly and you knew that this would only make her feel worst.
There was a second a silence followed by a quiet, “Not yet, I’m not really in a mood for it. It’s like I- Hih- shit, my nose fricken itch-Hh’iiitshoo! ‘tschioo!” She sniffled, giving a small stuffed, exhausted exhale as you heard the sound of more tissues being drawn, “Sorry sweetie, s’cuse me. What I was trying to say is that I don’t really have an appetite. It’s just like food has no appeal whatsoever.”
"Aw, my poor baby," you cooed sympathetically. "I'm sorry you're feeling like this. It's no fun being sick. You get yourself back home and into bed. My lunch is almost over so I need to go but I want you to go straight home, alright?”
“I will.” She stopped to cough a couple of times, whining a little afterwards, “I lodes you.”
You smiled, finding her congestion-hazed words utterly adorable as you teased her a little before ending the call, I ‘lodes’ you too.”
It wouldn’t just be her going home early though. You’d just finished typing out the email to your boss asking if you’d be allowed to call out early, offering to take up some extra hours in return later in the week.
With the email sent, you quickly finished up your lunch, feeling a mix of concern and anticipation to see Kate. You gathered your things, bid your colleagues farewell, and headed out of the office, making your way to the parking lot.
As you drove home, your mind raced with thoughts of how you could take care of Kate and make her feel better. You made a mental note to stop by the pharmacy on your way home to pick up the supplies and you tried to make a list of things you would need: cough drops, some medicine, tissues, and definitely some ice cream (for her throat of course, not just to satisfy your carvings.
Arriving at your apartment, it wasn’t long before you found Kate curled up on the couch, wrapped in a cosy blanket as she wore your go to ‘lazy day’ outfit. She looked even more tired and worn out than you had expected.
Setting down the bags of supplies on the coffee table, you approached her and gently placed a hand on her forehead to check for fever. It was slightly warm, confirming your suspicions. "Hey there, sweetheart," you murmured softly. "Let's get you more comfortable, shall we?"
“Y/N? What time is it?” She mumbled quietly and you showed her the screen of your phone to answer, “Did you come home just to look after me?”
You nodded, a tender smile gracing your lips. "Of course, my love. I couldn't bear the thought of you being sick all alone. Plus, I missed you, even if you're a little under the weather."
She let out a weak chuckle, sniffling and rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. "You're such a sweetheart.”
"Anything for my Kit-Kat," You replied, using the endearment that always brought a smile to her face. "Now, let's get you settled in bed. I'll make you some tea and bring you a bowl of soup. How does that sound?"
She nodded but then stopped when something else came to mind, “Do you think we could shower first? I’m kinda sweaty.” She grumbled in a disapproving manner earning a small giggle from yourself.
“Of course baby, come on my dear, let me escort my fair lady to thy holy shower.” Your hand was offered out to her in an exaggerated, medieval manner resulting in a small smile from the feverish brunette as she took it gratefully.
Kate sniffled as the two of you reached the bathroom and you curtesy’d with a welcoming smile as you opened the door for her.
“You’re such a dork.” She giggled a little even though the action had left her coughing hoarsely afterwards.
Turning on the shower, you let the hot steam fill up the room as you began carefully undressing her, making sure to shower her with kisses and love as you did so. You’d just gone behind her to unclasp her bra when Kate turned her to head to look back over her shoulder a little.
“Y’know what you are?” Her words were a little blurred by both congestion and fever, maybe that steam was a little too hot. You’d make sure to turn that down before she got in.
But still, you gave into her babble, “What am I sweetie?”
“A dork-a-saurus-rex.” Katie smiled before ducking her head down into her hands as she sneezed loudly, which was quickly followed by a displeased “Ew… Gross-a-saurus.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, “Come on then lil’ dino. Let’s get you washed, ey?” Your encouraging words were enough to coax her into the (now a lot colder) shower.
As the water cascaded over both of you, you began slowly massaging her knotted shoulders. When you lowered your hands to your surprise l she turned as if she was going to hug you but instead she let her heavy head rest of your chest before ultimately wrapping her arms around you (turns out she wanted that hug after all).
"You're taking such good care of me," she murmured, her voice muffled by the sound of running water. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."
"You don't have to do anything to deserve my love," you replied sincerely, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "Taking care of you comes naturally to me. Now, let's get you all clean and refreshed."
Carefully, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and squeezed a small amount onto your palm. As you lathered her hair, massaging her scalp, Kate let out a contented sigh.
"Mmm, that feels nice," she murmured, closing her eyes.
You smiled, continuing to work the shampoo through her hair with gentle strokes. After rinsing her hair, you reached for the body wash and started lathering it up. As you began washing her back, Kate tilted her head back up to look at you. Her eyes were filled with gratitude and affection, despite the fatigue she was so desperately trying to fight.
But to nobody’s surprise her fatigue won and you helped a very sleepy Katie climb out of the shower and get dry.
Once she was wrapped up in a fluffy towel, you guided her back to the bedroom. The room was cosy and warm, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a soothing ambiance.
You helped her into fresh pajamas, carefully tucking her into bed. "Alright, my sweet Kit-Kat, it's time for some rest," You whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and stroking her damp hair away from her forehead.
She looked up at you with drowsy eyes, a faint smile on her face. "Thank you, baby.” She whispered, her voice hoarse and weak. "I don't know what I would do without you."
You leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You don't have to worry about that, my love," you reassured her. "I'll be right here by your side, taking care of you until you're back to your vibrant self."
She closed her eyes, leaning into your touch as you continued to stroke her hair. "I love you," She murmured, her words barely audible.
"I love you too, Kit-Kat," you whispered back, your voice filled with tenderness. "And I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
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#kate bishop x reader#kate bishop x y/n#kate bishop x you#kate bishop fanfic#kate bishop x fem!reader#kate bishop sickfic#sickfic#mcu#marvel#marvel sickfic#fever#whump#snz#hawkeye sickfic
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Familiar Rapport (Natasha)
HERE IT IS FINALLY raaah! I wrote it on Monday but damn if recording the audio didn't take me FOREVER. But please enjoy Nat being sick and Tony being a sarcastic asshole. (Because I am weak for Stark Sass). Audio under the cut.
It’s past 9 and Steve is still here.
He’s asking for more information on Natasha’s new project and she is rushing through her explanation. Which only causes more confusion.
She’s listing off tasks for a third time when she notices her voice starts to tinge with congestion. She pauses mid-word, gaze flicking to Steve.
He looks at her, pale brows knit, “What? Something wrong?”
She gives her best vacuous chuckle hoping it will disguise a shiver of her lips. “I was just thinking it might be easier to show you.”
She pivots, socks shushing across the plush rug stretching across the central room of Stark Tower. She bends to the table centered between the chairs and picks up a tech pad.
Steve chuffs, “I think you have too much confidence in me being able to understand this baloney.”
Natasha squints at him, her lips curving in a wry smile, “Baloney?”
“P…people don’t say that anymore?”
The grin stretches in amusement. “If Captain America says it, it might make a comeback.”
She powers the pad on and swipes through the screens, showcasing visual details to Steve. He leans close and she instinctively holds her breath for a moment before realizing it’s pointless. Steve can’t catch it anyway. As his eyes skim the pad, she lifts a curved knuckle to her nose, tapping it just hard enough to chase away a lingering itch. Steve doesn’t notice. Fuck, she wants to sniffle so bad.
Steve is pointing at the pad, brows raised expectantly. What did he just say? Rghh, it’s so hard to focus on anything but the creeping sensation crawling through her sinuses. The itch just won’t stop, and it’s going to be completely obvious if her nose runs. She has to sniffle. Just one…maybe he won’t notice…
She risks it, sipping air with the barest…tiniest…
*snf*
Her nostrils flare wide but also up. In an extremely pronounced way. As if her face was a map of lines pointing straight to her nose’s announcement of her hitching breath. Fuck. Steve’s eyes flick to her and her lips tighten. He can’t know--he can’t know. If Steve realizes she’s sick, he’ll put a halt on this project. Natasha may have final say in most things, but Steve will absolutely round up the entire team to get her to lay the fuck down.
Nope. Not happening.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she snaps. Steve’s lips crimp but he doesn’t frown. He’s too graceful for that. He just nods and says “Alright.” He doesn’t mention the congestion in her voice and Natasha hopes maybe she sounds less stuffy than she feels.
She mimes a startle and pulls out her phone, “One minute.” She sticks it against her ear which allows her to turn away from him and wander a few steps. Thank fuck. She starts speaking Russian, pretending to have a conversation about a crisis while she saunters farther away, toward the frosty bay windows.
She can feel the chill from the winter wind against the glass, snowflakes kissing the window only to drop down and pool below solidifying into icy daggers.
The sudden chill has Natasha wrapping her bare arms around herself, shuddering. Her words begin to spill, she’s speaking with the un mistakable thickness of a person about t-to…
“H’kX!” She squeezes her shoulders, her neck, clenches her jaw, slams every wall down around herself before releasing a barely audible, “Hrt’KngT!” A small puff of breath escapes after and that does not go unnoticed.
Steve whips his head toward her. “Did you…”
She blinks at him, giving him her best, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ look. She knows it works. It al ways works. Steven looks abashed and refocuses on the pad, “Nothing.”
Damn right nothing.
She eases back toward Steve and pockets the phone, screwing her face up in concern-- hopefully convincing despite the cloying of her nose, the pink of her cheeks…
“Oh, Steve, I think Bruce needed your help with something.”
“He did?”
“Yeah,” she hands him the tech pad. “Why don’t you take this and show him the plans--he can help you and you can help him. Win win, hm?”
Steve tilts his head, apprehension painted all over his features.
Natasha points at the pad, “Go.” She thrusts the finger at the door.
Steve mutters something, but with another shoo from Nat, he does amble away.
Oh thank fuck because as soon as hhh she hears hhhh-im l-leave…”hih-AH!” He’s gone, fina--IEXSTTchh!!” She groans as she finally surrenders to the-- “HieTNKgshh…”
“Bless you.”
Natasha spins, eyes widening when she sees Tony standing askew next to the table. Her teeth chafe her lip in frustration. No one sneaks up on Natasha--damn this cold messing with her in unfathomable ways.
“How are you handing it?” Tony asks offhandedly.
“Handling what?”
“The cold.”
Her voice quakes. “What cold?” Damn, she can lie better than this. This is pathetic. Her cold symptoms are making her look disingenuous. She is fine, she just…needs to sneeze a lot and it won’t…fucking…stop. That doesn’t mean she isn’t fine.
He snorts, swaying toward the table in a sashay that rivals her own. “I heard it keeping you up last night.”
She latches a glare on him. “Why were you up last night?”
Tony plucks a square tissue box from the shelf next to him, “Oh, the usual. Binge drinking. Learning quantum physics. Being generally brilliant.” He holds out the box to her, taking a step forward.
Natasha holds up her hand, “Don’t.” Tony hesitates at the look on her face, lowering the box. “Don’t even come near me. I don’t want to give this to you.”
Tony lifts an eyebrow. “Is that the only reason? Because you talk as if I didn’t already catch this.”
Her eyes spread, “You were sick?”
He tosses it to her and she deftly catches it. At least her reflexes aren't in the trash.
“Still am.”
Natasha runs forked fingers through her hair, parting her copper waves, “Wow you are way better at hiding it than me.”
“No I’m not. I just know what hiding it looks like.”
Her lips crimp and she droops, letting her entire body melt into the chair. She tips her forehead onto her fist and sighs. “I’m so fucking tired. I just want to lay down and moan.”
Tony leans against the wall, folding his arms in his very Tony Stark way. “Then do it.”
Natasha chuffs, “I can’t. If anyone sees me taking time off. Slacking? They’ll know…”
“That you’re not perfect?”
Natasha’s head jerks up to glare at him. Tony rolls his eyes. “You’re not perfect, Nat. None of us are. You may be able to kid Cap. Bruce. The whole team--but you can’t hold them in forever.”
She rolls her eyes. “I can try.”
“But you shouldn’t.”
Another glare, and if looks could jump kick you in the face, Tony would be on the floor. She can’t hold the glare for long though. Her eyes are already glassing over, face flushing with a pink tinge. “H’kNG!” Hhhh-dammit--Hah!” Her shoulders curve, her fist sliding across her cheek to pin her nose, “H’ISXht!”
Tony sighs, his shoulders sagging with the breath, “I’m gonna put on soup. For both of us,” he iterates. “You go lay down. Watch one of those nature documentaries you like.”
“I don’t like nature documentaries.”
“I was being nice. I know you watched Marley and Me when you thought we were all asleep.”
She stiffens, “I only watched that because Owen Wilson looks familiar!”
“You know Owen Wilson?”
“No, but I’ve seen…” Lines crease her eyes and her vision warbles. She sips a breath, shoulders rearing as she snarls into a quickly cupped palm, “Hat’TSHieh! Hk’TZSH!!”
“I can text Mr. Wilson and ask him, but I think he’d agree with me that you need to rest.”
“You’re exhausting.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“Fuck you.”
“No thanks. You had your chance.”
Natasha throws herself to her feet and groans, not unlike a teenage outburst. She inwardly scolds herself for it. Being sick? It sucks. It makes it even harder to keep a cool head. Especially when Tony’s being a little shit.
“Fine,” she wipes the air with her hand and strides toward the hall, “I’m going to rest.”
“Thank. You.” Tony glides toward the kitchenette and Natasha doesn’t even fight the fact that he technically won this battle. But she’s so exhausted, she really doesn’t care.
#snz#snz fic#snz wav#snz audio#snz audiobook#zen audio#zen fic#mar/vel#nat/asha#mcu nat/asha#illness#snzfic#ok i couldn't HELP MYSELF#I HAD TO throw in a Loki reference#because I miss him sm#it's very small but iykyk#and obviously I have to include stark snark#voicing him was fun af#i think I got the inflections good at least#cue me being anxious af about the voices tho ;;^^#i hope it's bearable#through the background noise and maybe not the best imitations
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i’ve always loved the natasta/clint pairing within the mcu honestly and the prompt was lullaby, so this was the result: a flu-ridden natasha and a nervous, singing clint.
All Through the Night
***
Clint’s hand rested on the door knob as he thought about what to do next.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Tony said as he passed by. “She hates being sick, everyone knows that. Let sleeping dogs lie.”
Clint rolled his eyes. Nobody knew Natasha like he did and really, who listened to Tony’s advice anyway? He opened the bedroom door.
Natasha had kicked off all the blankets and was lying in bed in a tank top and her underwear. Clint was at her side in an instant. “Oh, Tasha...” His hand fluttered to her forehead and she weakly pushed him away.
“Leave be alode,” she said with a liquid sniffle. “I’b sigg."
Clint sat on the edge of the bed, deeply concerned. “I know. Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I dod't like whed people—” Her nose wrinkled and she turned away from him, quickly bringing her hand up to her face. “Hh’SCH! Hap’SHOO! Nn’CH!”
“Bless you.”
She shivered, rubbing her itchy nose. “Everythig hurds.”
“You’re probably all achy because you have the flu. Just go to sleep.”
Natasha shot him a watery glare and sniffled. “I cad’t!”
“Huh, OK. Do you mind if I play with your hair?” He asked innocently enough, so she nodded. “My brother used to sing to me when I was sick.”
“Oh god... doe singig, please. Wait—” She brought a manicured hand up to her nose and stifled three sneezes in quick succession. “CHH! Hp’SHHT!! Nn’TT!”
Clint pretended to look hurt. “I’m a great singer! Anyway, it’s like this.”
As he gently combed through her fiery hair with his fingers, the archer began to sing, softly.
“While the moon her watch is keeping, all through the night. While the weary world is sleeping, all through the night. O’er they spirit, gently stealing, visions of delight revealing, breathes a pure and holy feeling...”
Clint watched as Natasha’s breathing slowed, then bent over to kiss her flushed cheek. “All through the night.”
#mine#natasha romanoff#clint barton#clintasha#sickfic#sick!natasha#mcu#marvel#black widow#hawkeye#snz#drabble#hawkeyesnz#mcusnz
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You are such a wonderful member of this community. We are so lucky to have you.
If you want some questions. What is your dream pet? Is there a fandom that you always come back to? What was your first pairing/character you were into in the snz community?
❤️ Bewitchedfeathers
Awwww hello my love!! Thank you for stopping by with these amazing questions!
•Dream pet? I have two because they’re my favorite animals!! Manatees and Pandas (giant or red)!! I absolutely ADORE gentle giants like them and I’m obsessed
•Ooooh a fandom I always come back to? There’s a couple!!
Harry Potter Marauders (Sirius and Remus)
Doctor Who (10 and 11)
Game of Thrones (duh)
BBC Sherlock (Mystrade or Johnlock)
I also love Supernatural but like the earlier seasons when it was about monsters and not plot
•First pairing or character in the snz community. Hmmmm well the first love of my life was Ron Weasley so I was doing a lot of searching for him HOWEVER the sneezes were always ugly in the fics??? Lmfao so like I guess the first proper one I was into in the community was probably Bucky or MCU characters. @dontfeeltoohot and @softersteve ‘s blogs actually LOL ❤️
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You said you found your old Stucky fics and were willing to share them, so ... Please? *puppy-dog eyes*
(Gladly anon!! Forgive the mediocre writing, and also i wrote this in like 2014 before civil war so this is totally inaccurate to canon!! Sorry about that lmao!! I also have another fic {and maybe a few drabbles, some unfinished} if anyone wants it, but warning its fluff with no plot lol. Here are my fav nerds)
Steve did not like the feeling of being shaken. He didn’t like how his words were stuck in his throat. He did not like the eating away at his heart, the parasitic monster that made his eyes water and vocal chords whimper. He hated the sight of the door before him; he wanted to kick it open.
To be fair, it was such an ugly shade of white. It was chipping at the sides and there was a light, ever so light patch of rust at the bottom of the knob. What Steve hated the most is what the door hid from him, because he so desperately wanted to see it. He needed this thing so much right now and every second he spent waiting and waiting seemed to last longer than an eternity and the impatience was killing him.
What lay beyond that door was Bucky Barnes, who was a different Bucky Barnes but still Bucky Barnes. He was still the same boy who delivered newspapers to his house and defended him from all the bullies. That boy was incapable of talking about his feelings and he was so so good at pretending everything was okay. He was so good at smiling like everything was in place even when inside he felt drowned and tired; that was why it shook Steve to the bone when he saw him with those cold, dead eyes.
“I need to see him,” Steve said firmly, squeezing his own hand tightly, expressionless and stoic as he’s ever been.
“Steve, we talked about this..” Natasha sighed exasperatedly, closing her eyes and running a hand through her red, wavy hair. “I’ve..dealt with a controlled person before. And I get it; it really hurts..especially when it’s someone you love..” Natasha continued, her voice softer at the end. She turned to face Steve to see him sulking about, pity genuinely filling her heart.
“I know how much Bucky means to you, I really do, I understand why,” Natasha started slowly, eyes dimming thinking about the soldier, “but..he’s not ready. He’s sick and delirious..you don’t know what he’s going to be like–You might not be able to handle what happ-”
“But we can’t leave him in there alone! He’s already been that for 70 years! We should end that isolation as soon as possible! He needs someone there with him!” Steve argued, positioning himself to face his friend, eyes fiery with stubbornness.
“Natasha, I did agree with you. But..I do think it’s time. If..my friend escaped some forsaken hellhole I would..I would spend every moment with him so he knows that he’s okay. You know?” Sam said suddenly, appearing to have given a lot of thought into it.
There was silence for a long period of time.
“Go,” Natasha said finally, so undramatic that Steve didn’t believe her for a second. He gave her a look, as if to confirm that what she said was true and that he could finally see Bucky. Natasha sighed, nodding, “But I’m warning you..he might..be different. He could remember you, and everything, but..be prepared, okay, Steve?” She squeezed his hand gently, looking him in the eye.
Steve swallowed nervously, and nodded, getting to his feet and walking slowly towards the door. He breathed heavily for a while, hand resting on the door knob, terrified out of his mind. He wasn’t scared of Bucky; never was. He was scared of what they did to him, he was scared of seeing the damage.
He turned back to face Natasha and Sam, and looked at them nervously. Sam smiled softly at him, “Go get him, Captain.”
Steve nodded slowly, and braced himself for what was to come.
“So…if you did this part and I did this..” Steve said, eyeing the piece of assignment carefully. He drew some diagram on another sheet of paper to illustrate their pieces of work for their English project.
“..snnfff..Yeah,” Bucky replied absentmindedly, his sheet of brainstorming slowly but surely evolving into a mess of words and lines.
Sarah Rogers came in, a tray of milk and cookies in her hands. “How’re my boys?” She cooed cheerfully, setting the tray on a table. Steve groaned,
“Mooooom, we’re 18.”
Sarah laughed, “Well, you both certainly act like you’re 10 years younger!”
Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at that, however the laugh turning into a husky, soft cough. Sarah’s eyes widened a little, “Oh, Bucky, have you caught yourself a cold?” Steve tensed suddenly, feeling a little protective of Bucky immediately.
Bucky shook his head, “No, just a little dehydrated, I thin..thihhh…” Bucky turned away from the two Rogers and pressed his thumb and pointer finger against nostrils, sneezing.
“Bless you!”
Sarah gave him a sympathetic smile, “Oh, Bucky…You’re looking paler too. D'you need a blanket?”
Steve rested his hand on the taller man’s shoulder, “I’m sorry Buck, I didn’t even notice that you were feeling sick!”
Bucky shook his head, “I’m fine, honestly–”
He sneezed a sneeze so stifled it was hilarious.
Steve wanted to laugh at that sneeze but held it in, smile fading away as he saw his best friend shaking, “Awh, Buck, you’re shaking!”
Sarah kneeled down to the two boys who were sprawled across the carpet and felt Bucky’s forehead, which was a challenge for her when the Barnes boy kept flinching away from her. “This doesn’t seem good at all, James, d'you want to-” she stopped talking as she saw his face scrunch up, retreating to pinch his nose, and release another stifled sneeze.
“You want to stay the night?” Sarah continued, “also, don’t hold them in like that, it’s not good for you.” Bucky shook his head, “Sarah..I appreciate the thought and all, but..if I stay..I’ll be a burden to you and Steve and I risk getting one of you sick..”
“Nonsense! Once your aunt sees you she’ll be sending you back to me to get you all patched up, and don’t you dare mention this to her, but she’s no good at looking after you,” Sarah said firmly, but softly as well.
Bucky’s nostrils twitched and he cupped his nose and mouth with his hands and inhaled sharply, sneezing to the side twice. He groaned softly and sniffled, “Excuse me, f-fine..but..I-I’m not getting Steve sick-I..won’t be able to deal with that-”
Steve slapped his thigh playfully, “Woah! Bless you! That was quite some sneeze. Also, you think you can be sick without me taking care of you?”
“Steve–you don’t have to, honestly–” He was cut off by yet another loud and forceful sneeze.
“Bless you–and I will.”
Sarah helped Bucky stand up, “I’m sorry James, but it appears I can’t do anything to pry Steven away from you, such a pest, Isn’t he?” She said playfully, ruffling both her son’s and his best friend’s hair, “but I’ll be sure to give him an extra dose of vitamin c, so don’t you be worrying.” Bucky turned his head away from her and ducked his nose into his shirt,
“HehhSHiew! HhrSHiew!..ugh. Thank you..you..don’t have to be doing this.”
“They come in twos!”
“ Shut up–Steeeh–” He was cut off yet again by three progressive sneezes, deeply irritated by the continuous tickle in his nose.
“See! Bless you–besides, Ma’s a nurse, Buck, and you’re my friend.”
Bucky sneezed ticklishly, and rubbed at his red nose irritably. He nodded, “Yeah, okay. I know. Sorry. I just, didn’t want to be a burden.” Bucky’s nose twitched and he inhaled sharply, snapping forward into his hands and sneezed. The force bent him over at the waist.
“Bless you!” Steve chirped.
“Not a burden! Ever!” Sarah replied firmly, but a caring tone evident in her tone. She placed a hand on his back, trying to support him as he bent over. He shyly straightened back up, finger rubbing against his raw nostrils. Sarah frowned at the sight of his unhealthy shape.
“Besides, you are the oldest and don’t really get taken care of at home, so might as well try out the whole being taken care of thing. You’re always welcome to the Rogers clan.” Sarah continued, watching as Bucky inhaled for another sneeze but failed in succeeding.
“Part of the family Buck, y'now that right?” Steve chipped in, smiling goofily, far too happy about his illness than he was supposed to. His smile faded a little when Bucky didn’t answer, he hoped that it was just a result of coaxing out a sneeze. “You…know that, right?” He said, softer.
Bucky sneezed three harsh, ticklish sneezes, “nn..Yeah, I dow that. Yeah, us.” Bucky said sleepily, letting himself become sandwiched between the two people who had slotted themselves into his family.
“That’s good. Really good Buck, now cmon, you need to rest.”
Bucky had always looked so beautiful when he was asleep.
Even now, his eyelashes rested perfectly on his eyes, eyebrows furrowed only slightly and his mouth the slightest bit open, his lips pink and soft. He looked at peace; and Steve wished to pretend that he was at peace even though deep within he knew Bucky was at war with himself.
He knew that HYDRA was horrible to him, if they hurt him enough to damage him mentally many many years ago when the 107th was captured, 70 years with them surely must have felt like hell was a better option. So he let him sleep; because he knew Bucky wouldn’t have gotten much of that in the past.
He pulled a chair and sat next to him, unable to stop himself from resting his hand on Bucky’s own, lightly stroking the soft pale skin and the making his touches even softer if that was possible on his cuts and bruises. Touching Bucky made him want to cry, as he suddenly realised that Bucky was real, he wasn’t well but he was alive.
Suddenly Bucky’s breath started to quicken and his chest heaved, and he suddenly shot up, turning against Steve and releasing a stifled sneeze.
“Bucky?”
Bucky turned to face him, and he looked like he was taken aback, his blue eyes sparkling with nostalgia, “Steve?”
Steve let out a strangled sob and couldn’t help but throw himself on the man, hugging him tight, embracing all that he was and all that he wasn’t, letting himself feel the warmth that he didn’t know he was missing. He held Bucky, his Bucky, and when he felt Bucky flinch he immediately pulled away,
“Oh shit, I’m sorry–Bucky I-”
Bucky didn’t say anymore and pulled Steve back to him, letting himself become small and cling on to Steve for dear life, sobbing hard, “I remember you Steve, your mom’s name was Sarah and you used to put newspapers in your shoes. Steve, they hurt me.. They turned me into a monster..I thought you left me…but..” Bucky sobbed even harder, “..you came back.”
Steve sobbed softly, and pushed the hair out of Bucky’s eyes, “Buck, save your voice. Youre really ill and you need to rest.” He felt his forehead, “this doesn’t look good. Come now..lay down your head..” Bucky still was burying his head in Steve’s chest and suddenly felt his breath hitch and nose tickle like hell and he didn’t have time to pull away before the eventual release, “ He sneezed quietly, spraying Steve’s chest lightly.
“Oh god–I’m sorry-” Bucky panicked, having learned how to stifle and turn away from his captors due to their disgust. Steve shushed him, running a hand through his hair, “Bless you, it’s okay..it’s okay. You’re safe now.”
Steve stood to get some tissues, when Bucky tugged at his arm, the tears welling back in his eyes, “Please don’t leave me.”
The desperation in Bucky’s eyes broke Steve’s heart, and he quickly tugged the box of tissues towards the bed. “I’m not leaving you,” Steve said firmly, “never again,” he said, softer.
Bucky would’ve replied but his nose started to twitch with the terrible tickle in his nose, he turned his head away from Steve and sneezed. Bucky groaned and his throat hurt from all the stifles. A little layer of wetness lay below his nostrils and Steve wiped it away slowly, “Bless. That hurt, didn’t it? Stop stifling like that, okay?”
Bucky sniffled slowly, regretting it immediately when he turned his head away from Steve again and let his nostrils twitch, breath hitching, the tickle teasing his brains out, until his nostrils started flaring and finally, the tickle became enough to let him sneeze, and when he knew he was definitely going to sneeze, he took a sharp breath and sneezed.
“Bless you,” Steve said, and quickly brought the tissue back to Bucky’s nose
Bucky sniffled miserably. “Blow,” Steve said softly, and added pressure to one nostril at a time as Bucky blew forcefully. “I’m gonna get you sick,” Bucky said miserably.
“I don’t get sick anymore,” Steve smiled softly, and pressed ruffled Bucky’s messy hair. Bucky’s nose had taken a pink form, and he leaned in to kiss the very tip, “You’ve always been so cute when you sneeze.”
“Fuck you,” Bucky said good naturedly, and his nose twitched with the light touch and he sneezed again. He moaned, “I haven’t been able to let them out like that in so long.”
“Wait, what?”
“…They didn’t let me sneeze properly. They forced me to be as quiet as possible so I didn’t blow my cover but they were really just too disgusted.”
“Oh Buck..”
Not long after that Bucky fell into a fit of coughing, unable to stop, until Steve practically jumped onto the bed and patted him firmly against his shoulder blades, continuing to rub little circles onto his back once the coughing subsided.
Bucky groaned, raising his hand to temple then pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to overcome a headache. Steve pushed him down to the bed gently, fluffing out the pillow his head was on and pulled the blankets over him, frowning when Bucky was still shaking.
“Steve,” Bucky croaked weakly.
“Mmm?”
“What did..what did you say my name was again?” Bucky looked genuinely heart broken, frustrated that this stupid fever was making him forget his hard efforts of remembering his memories again. He looked guilty, as if he was doing something wrong.
Steve smiled softly at him and rested his hand on top of his best friend’s one, stroking the tender skin slowly. “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes and you’re my best friend.”
Bucky closed his eyes and smiled, genuinely smiled and he was so beautiful that it overwhelmed Steve. He hadn’t seen that wonderful smile in so long and he had forgotten the beauty of it and something within him seemed to be fuller.
“Yeah, that’s it, I remember now.”
They sat in a comfortable silence for some time and Steve thought Bucky was asleep when Bucky’s eyes slowly fluttered open and he started to talk again,
“Can..can you..-” Bucky stopped, blushing, and shook his head, “never mind.”
Steve widened his eyes, “Nononono, what do you need? It’s okay, you can ask for what you want.”
Bucky shut his eyes tight, blushing, “can you..lie down with me? I mean..presuming I can’t infect you–”
It was a matter of seconds before Steve climbed onto the bed and was lying down with Bucky, wanting to wrap himself around him but forcing himself not to, only looking him in the eye softly. They lay down together, looking each other in the eye, fingertips brushing only slightly for a really long time.
Bucky’s eyes were the same as they were years ago, but at the same time they weren’t. They were the same shape, the same long eyelashes and the same beautiful shade of blue. But his eyes weren’t shining as bright as they used to. They didn’t sparkle with energy and youth. He was drained. He was so tired. It would take so long to get what was left of Bucky Barnes back. There was a huge portion Steve could never get back. He was Bucky Barnes of the past but he was also a completely different person, but Steve could still love him endlessly.
“..I remember something else,” Bucky said quietly.
“Huh? Like what?”
“That I loved you.”
Bucky said this the way someone would say “it’s warm” or “how are you”. He says this like its the most normal and casual thing in the world. He says this like its the norm, like he’s always been this way, and in a way it was true. Steve didn’t know what to say.
“I remember that I loved you more than anything in the world. I saw something in you that no one else did. You were my stars and my sun and my light and all things wonderful,” Bucky said absentmindedly, dreamily, even, eyes gazing some place else and his voice leaked with nostalgia. He paused for a couple of moments to smile and think about it, and then continued, “but then one day, the world saw what I saw in you. The world started to love you and it hurt because I loved you first. You found someone who deserved you and I tried to fall out of love but to be honest with you..falling out of train was easier.”
Steve’s mouth parted slightly, finding it hard to take it all in, and he brushed his fingers against Bucky’s in the hope that maybe they had a chance at starting over.
“..Do you..think you.. still love me?”
“I never stopped.”
Steve pressed in and kissed him softly, nothing too fast and too firm, something simple and sweet, making nice little noises as they kissed. He feared that he was going too fast, but Bucky wanted it all, and he felt so warm and good. He tasted like birthday cake and snowflakes. 70 years was worth the wait.
Steve grinned and touched his forehead with Bucky’s, unable to control himself from being the inner sap that he was, “You and me?”
Bucky sniffled, and grinned back lightly, “You’re a punk.”
“Jerk.”
#stucky#steve rogers#bucky barnes#captain america#mcu#marvel#winter soldier#natasha romanoff#sam wilson#sarah rogers#stucky sickfic#sickfic#fever#sneezing#recovering bucky barnes#post tws fic#james buchanan barnes#pre serum stucky#uhh i may have edited out the cringe snz spellings loll
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