Spider-Girl gets heatstroke ft Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff
The sun bore down mercilessly on the city, amplifying the already stifling heat. Y/N Parker, also known as Spider-Girl, swung through the crowded urban landscape, her agile form navigating effortlessly between towering buildings. The snug superhero suit clung to her like a second skin, offering little reprieve from the oppressive warmth.
Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, and Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, followed closely behind. The three made an unlikely but formidable team, each contributing their unique skills to the cause. Today's mission had brought them into the heart of the city, where the scorching heat seemed to amplify with every passing minute.
As they reached the rooftop where their target was supposed to be, Y/N's movements started to slow. The heat had become an almost tangible force, sapping her strength and leaving her feeling sluggish. Wanda exchanged a concerned look with Natasha, both recognizing the toll the weather was taking on their youngest teammate. Natasha was the first to say something about it over the comms.
Natasha - Kiddo, we need to take a break. It's too hot up here.
Y/N hesitated, her hand gripping the edge of the building for support.
Y/N - I'm fine!
Insisted the adolescent as her voice strained.
Wanda moved closer, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder.
Wanda - You need to take care of yourself. This heat is dangerous. *frowns*
But Y/N, ever the stubborn teenager, shook her head.
Y/N - I can handle it. Let's finish this.
Natasha sighed, sharing a worried glance with Wanda. They pressed on, but it wasn't long before Y/N's movements became more laboured. Sweat dripped down her forehead, and her breaths were audible over the comms.
Wanda - We need to get her out of here.
The Scarlet Witch urged, her concern deepening.
Natasha grabbed Y/N's arm.
Natasha - Come on, baby. We're calling it a day.
Y/N resisted.
Y/N - No, I can't let them—
Wanda cut in, her voice firm.
Wanda - Your health is more important. The mission can wait.
Reluctantly, Y/N allowed herself to be guided away from the edge of the building. The trio found a shaded spot, but Y/N was insistent on finishing the mission even if she was already swaying slightly.
Y/N - I just need a moment...
Natasha - You need more than a moment. You need water and rest. *crosses her arms*
Y/N's stubbornness flared, and she pushed herself up.
Y/N - I can't let them get away. I can—
Her words were slurred, and her vision blurred. The next thing she knew, she was on her knees, the world spinning around her. Wanda and Natasha exchanged alarmed glances.
Wanda - Y/N!
Wanda cried out, rushing to her side.
Natasha activated her comm.
Natasha - We need an evac. Now.
Y/N tried to push herself up, but her limbs felt like lead. The last thing she heard before darkness claimed her was Wanda's worried voice calling her name.
When Y/N opened her eyes, the world was a blur of white. She blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The low hum of the quinjet's engines filled the air. She was lying on one of the benches, and her suit had been partially removed.
Y/N - Wanda? Natasha?
She croaked.
The two women appeared at her side, relief was evident in their eyes.
Natasha - You fainted detka, heatstroke.
Explained the Black Widow, her voice a mix of sternness and concern.
Y/N groaned, remembering the mission.
Y/N - Did we catch them?
Wanda smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N's face.
Wanda - Yes, we did. But you scared us. You need to take better care of yourself, honey.
Y/N mumbled an apology, attempting to sit up. Natasha pressed her back down as she spoke firmly about their order.
Natasha - Rest, we'll be back at headquarters soon.
Wanda held a bottle of water to Y/N's lips, urging her to drink. The cool liquid was a balm for her parched throat. As Y/N sipped the water, Natasha began removing the rest of her suit to help her cool down.
Y/N - I can do that myself.
Protested the youngest weakly.
Wanda - You're in no condition to argue, my dear. *chuckles*
They worked efficiently, and the atmosphere was a mix of professionalism and genuine concern. Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the two women who had become her teammates and, in many ways, her surrogate family and mothers, in their own way.
Once out of the stifling suit, Y/N felt a wave of relief. The cool air of the quinjet was a welcome contrast to the oppressive heat outside. Wanda conjured a soft breeze, further easing Y/N's discomfort.
Natasha - You scared us back there, sweetheart.
Natasha admitted, her eyes intense.
Y/N - I'm sorry. I just wanted to finish the mission. *sighs*
Wanda placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder.
Wanda - There will always be another mission. But you only have one health and body for us to kiss, hug and give tickles. Don't jeopardize it for the sake of a mission. *tickles Y/N*
Y/N - Stopp- *giggling*
Natasha - Let her rest Wanda. It's okay lovebug *kisses forehead*
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the hum of the quinjet providing a backdrop to their thoughts. Y/N closed her eyes, allowing herself to rest, knowing that she was in capable hands.
As the quinjet touched down at headquarters, Natasha and Wanda helped Y/N to her feet. She felt a little unsteady, but the support from her motherly teammates kept her upright.
Natasha - Promise us you'll take better care of yourself, babygirl.
Natasha said with her tone meaning business.
Y/N nodded, a genuine smile playing on her lips.
Y/N - I promise, moms.
Wanda grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Wanda - And if you don't, we might have to resort to more drastic measures.
Y/N - Like what? *raises an eyebrow*
Wanda and Natasha exchanged a knowing look before simultaneously saying: Mama bear's voice, the head-tilt and the raised eyebrow.
Y/N burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the quinjet. As they exited the aircraft, a trio of superheroes ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the bonds forged not just in battle but in the quiet moments of care and concern.
for your drabbles request, i was thinking something like this:
W: “Do you not see how pale you are right now?”
R: “Can you just shut up for a second?”
W: "You can’t drive home in your condition.”
with sick!reader and caretaker!wanda, kinda angsty but with a happy ending if possible :)
Second Opinion
〚 Notes - Just a drabble....whole story? Potato potatah? Wanda's a major bitch at the start of this but we'll look over it because she redeems herself <3 Sorry this took a while, I got sent home from work sick so finally had the time to finish this :,) 〛
〚 Pairing - Wanda Maximoff x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - Your camping trip doesn't go to plan. Wanda isn't exactly helping you feel better. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 1530 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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“I knew you didn’t check the weather.” Wanda grumbled from the under the small shelter you’d both huddled beneath, shaking out her soaked hair and scrunching up her damp curls before shooting you an annoyed look.
“I didnt realise it was going to rain!” You threw your hands up defensively, the action had sent the water droplets on your arms splashing in every direction, “I’m just as soaked as you are! How was I meant to know the tent wasn’t waterproof?”
The pair of you loved to camp, it was always fun to get out into nature, switch off your electronics and unwind. It was something you did every year. Unfortunately you’d forgotten to check the weather before rushing off for a weekend away. It had rained heavily throughout the night and much to Wanda’s horror, had made the tragic discovery that the tent you’d been sleeping in was definitely not waterproof.
You’d both woken up to find yourselves soaked to the bone, laying in freezing cold water… Not the greatest way to wake up.
Wanda sighed, rubbing her arms for warmth. "Well, what do we do now? We can't stay here in this soggy mess."
“We can pack up everything into the boot, there should be a tarp in there so it wont ruin the interior. Then I guess we just head home?” You sniffled, as a chill rolled up your arms.
Wanda grumbled as she helped gather up the soggy camping gear, shooting you occasional glares that seemed to say, "This is all your fault." Meanwhile, you couldn't shake off the chill that had settled deep into your bones. The feeling of your damp clothes sticking to you only added to your discomfort.
But as you packed up, Wanda's annoyance seemed to intensify with every wet item she handled. "I can't believe this," She muttered, shaking out a drenched sleeping bag. "We should have checked the weather. This is just typical of you! You’re so unprepared!”
You tried to muster a defense, but your voice came out weak and raspy. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for this to happen." You cringed a little at the sound of your voice. You’d had a cold for the past week however you’d started feeling better for the last few days but you’d supposed that waking up shivering and soaked would make anyone feel ill again.
As Wanda continued to grumble, you couldn't help but sneeze, the action sent had you stumbling forward a little and you really hadn’t been able to cover your mouth in time…
"Ugh, seriously?" she snapped, wiping at her dampened clothes with annoyance. "First, the weather, and now you're sneezing on me? Could this day get any worse?"
You winced, feeling guilty for both the sneeze and the situation as a whole. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered, reaching for a tissue to cover your mouth. "It's this stupid cold. I can't help it."
Wanda rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed.
“Go wait in the car,” She gave you a stern look, the kind she had when she wouldn’t take no for an answer and pointed to the vehicle. “You better take those soaked clothes off as well, I need you getting pneumonia.”
You sniffled, not bothering to argue any longer. The corners of your temples had started to ache and you couldn’t deal with her attitude.
“Fine!” You climbed into the driver’s side and closed the door with a slam.
As Wanda continued packing up the camping gear, her frustration seemed to grow with each soggy item she handled. She muttered under her breath, shooting occasional glances towards the car where you were waiting.
“Are you even able to drive safely?” Wanda mumbled under her breath as she clambered into the passenger seat only ten minutes later. You sent her an unimpressed glare. “I’m being serious, I mean do you not see how pale you are right now? What if you fall asleep while driving?”
"Can you just shut up for a second?" You snapped back, feeling the throbbing ache in your temples intensify with each passing moment. You weren’t in the mood to argue from the second she’d gotten in the car.
Wanda sighed heavily, her frustration mixing with genuine worry. "You can't drive home in your condition."
You leaned back in the seat, the cold seeping into your bones and sapping what little energy you had left. "I'll manage," you muttered stubbornly, though the idea of driving in your current state filled you with dread.
Her eyes narrowed, a distinct crease forming in her brow, “No you won’t manage! Just let me drive, Y/N, for gods sake!”
You knew she was right; driving in your current state was a recipe for disaster. Reluctantly, you handed over the keys, feeling defeated and utterly drained.
Wanda wasted no time taking charge, starting the car and adjusting the mirrors before pulling out of the campsite. You slumped in the passenger seat, feeling the chill of your soaked clothes seep deeper into your bones. Every bump in the road sent a jolt of pain through your head, and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to ease the throbbing.
You sniffled, trying to stifle the tickle in your nose, but it persisted, building with each passing moment until you couldn't help but let out a series of harsh, miserable sneezes.
Wanda glanced over at you, her annoyance fading into concern as she saw the way you huddled in on yourself. "You okay?" she asked, her voice a little softer now.
You mustered a weak nod, but the look on your face betrayed the truth. Your cheeks flushed with fever, and your skin felt clammy to the touch. It was clear you were far from okay.
“Don’t lie to me.” She mumbled, her hand coming to rest on your forehead, “You’ve got a fever again.” She sighed, her hand coming down for cup your cheek for a moment, and you found yourself sinking into her touch, craving the comfort it brought.
You still were reluctant to fully give in, “I’m fine Wands. Just leave it… please?” You added, expecting her to argue back but she just looked at you with sympathy instead and murmured under her breath.
"I think you need a second opinion on that."
As the car hummed along the roads, the combination of exhaustion and illness weighed heavily on you. Despite your best efforts to stay awake and alert, the steady rhythm of the car and the warmth from the heater lulled you into a drowsy haze.
Your eyelids grew heavy, and before you knew it, you had succumbed to the pull of sleep. Your head lolled to the side, resting against the window as raspy breaths and intermittent coughs escaped your lips. Wanda glanced over at you, her expression softening at the sight of you.
The guilt weighed heavily on her as she watched you sleep, your face flushed with fever, your body shivering involuntarily despite the warmth of the car. She pulled the car over to quickly reach into the back, pulling up the blanket you usually kept in the backseats before gently laying it over you, tucking it in at the sides. Wanda sighed in remorse, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been too harsh on you earlier.
She replayed the events of the morning in her mind, feeling a pang of regret with each memory. Maybe she should have been more understanding, more patient. She hadn’t slept well and was overtired and she had taken it out on you. After all, you didn't intentionally get sick or forget to check the weather. It was just an unfortunate series of events.
Eventually, the familiar sight of your home came into view, and Wanda felt a sense of relief wash over her. She carefully parked the car and turned off the engine, reaching over to gently shake your shoulder.
"Hey, we're home," she murmured softly, her voice laced with concern. "Let's get you inside and warmed up."
With Wanda's help, you groggily stumbled out of the car and into the warmth of your home. She guided you to the couch, before hurrying off to your bedroom, quickly returning with a thick hoodie for you to wear and you could hear the distance hum of running water.
"I'm sorry for snapping earlier," Wanda murmured, her voice filled with sincerity. "I shouldn't have been so harsh on you. I know you didn't mean for any of this to happen. I was way out of line.”
“I’ve started a bath for you if you want it?”
Wanda's apology hangs in the air, melting away any lingering tension. With a soft smile, you reach out and grasp her hand’ “Thank you, baby," you replied, your voice still hoarse. "I appreciate it. And a bath sounds wonderful after all this.” You paused, watching as she fidgeted with her fingers - clearly still feeling guilty.
“Do you want to join me? You got soaked too y’know.”
She blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that response. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, “If you’ll have me?” Her eyes softened as she nodded, her lips curling into a relieved smile.
I did it!!! I finished writing all 30 stories for Sicktember and used all the prompts and alt prompts!!!! The only thing left is to name all the chapters and check for spelling and grammar mistakes. I can't believe it's done and I can't wait to post them all.
Notes: This was requested by a lovely anon, and it was inspired by my past few days. Enjoy :)
Original request from anon: Can you write an Avenger imagine, where the reader is the youngest of the cast and gets sick/has an accident on set?
Description: You get sick. That’s it. That’s the fic.
Characters: reader, original female and male characters (manager named Masha, assistant named Alis, an EMT named Esme, trainer named Nick), RDJ, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johanson, Elizabeth Olson, the Russos
You don’t have time to get sick, so you don’t. Between filming, training, and school, sickness is absolutely not an option Simple as that, right?
Well, your body didn’t get the memo.
Your body is racked with chills, but you’re sweating profusely. You chalk it up yo the intense scene you’re filming; your character and Robert’s character just got into a massive screaming match over your character’s secret identity being revealed. But in the middle of the second take, your words dissolve into coughs.
"No, Tony! It's not okay!" You shout, whipping around to face a very pissed looking RDJ. "I-" A cough disrupts your words. "I don't-" This time you break down into a fit of uncontrollable coughing, even going as far as doubling over.
"Cut!" Robert rushes over to you, placing a hand on your back. He makes you stand up fully. He speaks up when you finally stop coughing. “You alright, kid?" You nod your head, rubbing at your throat.
"Yeah, I'm good. I'm sorry, I have no idea where that came from." A smile tugs at his lips. "Don't apologize, Y/N. It happens."
Alis, an assistant, comes over with a bottle of cold water, placing it on your hands with a curt not. You thank her and open the water, taking a few slow sips as the Russos offer feedback on what you managed to get through.
"That was are best take until the coughing. Whatever you did before, do that again." You try not to beat yourself up over the coughing; it's show business, it happens.
Getting back into position, you two manage to finish the scene with minimal interruptions. During your yelling match, your head begins to pound. It's not the light pounding you get when you didn't get enough sleep or you're dehydrated, it's the kind where you're sure that your old band director is leading the entire drum line on your brain tissue, or something is punching your skull with little pistons.
The second "Cut!" rings out through the set. You deflate, rolling your shoulders and rubbing your head. You trudge over to a small bench near the set and plop down, stretching your now aching limbs in the process.
Being the (mother hen) good mentor and costar he is, Robert realizes something is wrong very quickly. You're usually very bubbly after scenes end, the adrenaline still coursing through you. He can only think of one time he saw you like this, and that was right after you took the SATs. He calls over Alis again, asking her to get some green hibiscus tea with honey and acetaminophen. Alis is back within five minutes. He walks over to you and sits by you.
"Here, take these." You frown at the to-go cup and the small container in his hands, but ]take them anyways.
"What is it?"
"Tea, and tylenol. They'll help with your headache and cough." He says, matter-of-factly.
"Oh, thanks, Robert."
"Course, gotta help my favorite kid." He says, pushing himself off of the bench. "Now, I don't know about you, but I am starving. What do you say we get a bite with the others?" He extends a hand for you to take
"Sure," You say without thinking. Any time with the cast is great, even if you're extra tired and achy. You let him pull you up. The cast orders sandwiches from a little shop in downtown Atlanta, very close to the set.
You're gathered in a larger, mostly empty save for a few couches and chairs part of the set where you often meet. Everyone is talking. They're either going over that days work and characterization, recent events in the news, and their weekend plans. Your sandwich is a little off. It smells fine, it's exactly what you ordered, but it tastes... off. Something in it is making your stomach churn and grumble. You place the sandwich back in the wrapping it came in, fold it up, and throw it away.
That's enough for tonight, You decide. "I have school stuff that I need to get done." You say.
"Aw, okay. See you tomorrow!"
"Fuck school,"
"Language!"
"Shut the hell up, man."
You smile as you walk to your trailer. You do have school, you always have school, and it sucks major ass. The suckiest thing you have to complete is a seven page, MLA format, argumentative research paper about birth control in the developing world. And, oh my god, you would rather be hung upside down by your toe hair than write that fucking paper.
But you write it anyway.
Why? Because it's due in two days and you haven't started it yet. So you buckle down, ignoring the headache you have and your churning stomach, and do the damn thing.
You get three pages in before you decide that being tired isn't worth this paper. Getting up at 5:30 in the morning each day to train for two hours is definitely not your favorite part of your job, but it is some of the only alone time you’re able to get, so you'll take it. You stand up from your desk and immediately regret moving. Dizziness overcomes you. You flop back onto your office chair and press a hand to your forehead.
Taking a few deep breaths, you get back under control and stand up much slower. This time, you're able to walk to your small bedroom area with an attached bathroom. You wash your face, being extra careful as to not make yourself pass out from dizziness. You do the same when brushing your teeth.
During the night, you get all of two and a half hours of sleep. You toss and turn all night, unable to ignore the churning in your stomach for long enough. And the fact that you're hot one second and then freezing the next. it is impossible for you to sleep for more than a half hour at a time. But you eventually do.
Assuming that's the end of it, you sleep deeply until cramping in your stomach forces you out of bed. you make yourself sit up. A wave a nausea comes over you like a tidal wave. You hobble to the bathroom and lean over the toilet just in time.
Bile and your half-eaten sandwich forces its way from your stomach, up your throat, and into the toilet. It's gross. It smells vile, its chunky and the strain makes tears come to your eyes. You dry heave and cough until you're sure everything is out. Feebly, you flush the toilet and leaned back against the wall across from it, deep breathing until you stop crying.
Unaware of the time, you stay there until you feel strong enough to get up and brush your teeth. You hobble back to your bed, and lay back down. This time, falling asleep again.
A knocking on your door pulls you out of your slumber.
"Y/N? You need to get up." The smooth voice of your manager, Masha, floats through your door.
You jolt awake, now remembering that you have to train. "Shit, what time is it?"
"Six AM. I'm opening the door," Masha says, while opening the door. You wince as the light seeps in, covering your eyes.
"Whoa, what happened to you?" She asks. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah, yeah yeah yeah, I'm good. Shit Nick is waiting. I'll get ready, gimme like two seconds," You ramble, stumbling out of bed.
"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, hold on." Masha says, putting both hands on your shoulders, steadying you. Huh, you didn't realize you were wavering.
"You're burning up, Y/N." She observes, pressing the back of her hand on your forehead. "I think you're sick. Tell me what's going on."
"Nothing."
"Have you thrown up or anything? Headaches? Lie to me, and it won’t be pretty."
“I threw up,” You croak, flopping back on the bed.
"Alright, I'm going to get Esme, stay here, lay down." Masha speaks quickly, pulling out her phone.
Esme is the lead EMT on set. She was an RN for years before transferring to emergency medical services. The stunt doubles and the actors take major precautions before stunting. However, some things can't be avoided, hence the EMTs.
Esme comes into your room in no time, followed closely by a worried Masha.
"Alright, Y/N. What's wrong?"
"I'm a little sick right now."
"Alright. Symptoms?"
"Chills, headaches, I uh threw up a few hours ago..." You hate admitting it. That means you won't be able to do much today. It's apart of your contract. If you get sick, you have to take at least two days off because you're a huge liability for Marvel. Being a minor kinda sucks.
She nods. "Alright hon, follow my directions." Esme checks you out thoroughly. After telling her about your weird sandwich, she nods knowingly.
"It looks like a fever, and that sandwich made you throw up. Get some pepto bismol and tylenol. Make sure to drink a lot of water and other clear liquids. Eat the BRAT diet, and you'll be good to go in a few days. I suggest making a doctor's appointment today, though. I can’t diagnose you."
"Alright, thanks Esme." Masha says as Esme leaves. She turns to you, sighing. "I'm sorry, N/N. I'll get what you need from a store, let the Russos know, and make the appointment. I think you should go back to sleep if you can."
"Thanks, Mash. You're the best."
She smiles gently before leaving. You turn on your side and pull the blanket over your head, eventually dozing off.
The veil of sleep is slowly lifted as you blink your eyes open. Thanks to some great blackout curtains you have, no light seeps into the trailer. This time, you don't feel nauseous. However, an inkling of dizziness is still there. You stay in your position for a few minutes until you reach for your phone. A ton of notifications appear on your lockscreen.
3 missed calls from Masha the Manager
Messages from Masha the Manager
Y/N, Nick is waiting. Where are you? Sent: 5:30
Get up now, Y/N. Sent: 5:30
Y/N. You're scaring me. You're never late. Sent: 5:43
Everything you need is on the counter. Read the note first though. Sent: 7:00
Message from evans
Hey Y/N. Heard you weren't feeling well. Lemme know if I can help, okay? Sent: 7:15 AM
Message from Romanian Bitch™
Masha told us you're sick. Feel better we need you! Sent: 7:19 AM
Message from Stanky Stark
Get better soon okay? Sent 7:19
Messages to No Boys Allowed!!!
ScarJo: get well soon babe. let us know if you need anything 7:20
Scarlet Bitch: aw, feel better N/N Sent: 7:21
It warms your heart knowing that they care so much about you. You send a simple thank you to each one of them and close your eyes again.It only takes a few seconds for you to remember all the homework you have to do. Your eyes snap open and you groan.
You do not want to do homework. But you have two whole days with no training and no work, so why wouldn't you? That thought is all you need to get out of bed. You don't bother changing. You migrate to the small living area, and go to the counter where Masha had set all the stuff. You found the note quickly, and read Masha's half print, half cursive writing.
Y/N,
Take two doses of pepto and two things of tylenol, but read the instructions!!! Eat some applesauce or toast, and call me if you get any worse.
-Masha
You unpack the canvas bag and quickly take your medicine. After that, you take all the food with you to the couch. You plant yourself on the soft sofa and dive into your work.
Being interrupted every few minutes with coughing is not the ideal space for productivity, especially because your throat is becoming increasingly raw. You put your phone in a drawer in your desk so you aren't distracted. Like most teens, you have a bad habit of prioritizing your phone.
A knock on the trailer door pulls you out of your focus. "Y/N, it's us!"
"Come in!" You say, still typing. You cringe at how sore you sound. Scarlett and Lizzie come in, still in costume.
"We can't stay for long," Scarlett starts, looking very apologetic. "We have a five minute break and we wanted to check on you."
You smile, setting your computer to the side. "Thanks guys. I appreciate it."
"How are you feeling?" Lizzie asks.
You shrug. "I'm okay, I guess."
"What were you doing?" Scarlett asks, spotting the half finished essay on your laptop. "You're supposed to be resting."
You sigh. "Yeah, but I should just get it done..."
The three of you talk about how shooting is going, and the production of the film in general. It's going smoothly. Nothing is going wrong. Soon, though, they have to leave. You're left to your own devices for another few hours.
Now that you’re revising the paper, your eyes ache, your left hand is cramping up, and you're positive you gave yourself carpal tunnel.
Another knock on the door reverberates through the trailer.
"Open up, kiddo!"
"It's unlocked." You snap back, not unkindly. Anthony and Sebastian walk in. You stop typing for a second to smile at them. "Hey,"
"Hey, N/N." Sebastian smiles back. "We brought you soup."
Your face twists up. "Is it from the sandwich shop?"
"Nah, Masha told us that made you sick. This is from the high-end shop across the street," Anthony says, handing you a warm styrofoam bowl and a spoon. he also takes your laptop. "What are you writing an essay for? You’re sick! And a kid! Kids don’t do school when they’re sick.”
“What do you know about kids?” You smile, leaning forward to reach for your laptop.
"Nuh uh, no no no. You're going to relax while we're here, okay? And for your information, I have three children."
You cock an eyebrow. "Uh huuuuhhhh," you draw out.
He rolls his eyes, saves your essay, and turns on the television that you rarely use. "Alright, N/N. Netflix or Hulu?"
"My essay."
"Hey siri, does netflix or hulu have a show called 'My essay'?" You shove his shoulder lightly with a scowl. Sebastian is having a grand time laughing at you while eating his own soup.
"Alright, alright. We'll watch The Office, it's one of your favorites." Anthony chuckles.
You huff, leaning back on the couch and pulling off the cover to your soup. "Fine."
"Michael Scott is such a bad boss." Sebastian remarks.
"How dare you!" You gasp, your voice cracking severely.
"I can't take you seriously when you sound like a twelve year old boy." He retorts.
"You're being mean,"
"Mmm sorry sweetheart," He chuckles.
The three of you watch a couple episodes before they have to leave. You thank them for their time and the soup profusely. They wave you off, saying something along the lines of 'No problem, kiddo'.
After they leave, you snatch up your laptop and make the final revisions on your essay. There, finished in two days, and all it took was eating a bad sandwich. You should totally do that more often. (No you shouldn't. Never doing that again.)
You opt for more Michael Scott and some ginger ale mixed with Gatorade. You fall asleep on the couch huddled under a fleece blanket you retrieved from your room area two more episodes in, and wake up to gentle knocking and someone calling your name.
"Y/N? You there?"
"Yeah." You call, voice thick with sleep.
"Can we come in?"
"Sure?" You say, burrowing under the blanket. The door opens revealing Chris Evans and Robert, both looking tired after a long day of filming.
"Did we wake you up?" Chris asks.
"Yeah, it's fine though," You yawn, sitting up slowly.
"Oh, sorry 'bout that kiddo,"
You shrug. "What's up?"
Robert gives you a dad smile. "We just wanted to come see how you're doing. Feeling any better?"
"Yeah, I guess. Don't feel pukey anymore."
"That's good. Anthony said you were doing homework all day?" Chris asks, tone not too far from accusatory.
"I had an essay to do." You defend.
Robert clicks his tongue. "You're supposed to be resting, Y/N, not doing homework."
You pout. "I still had to get it done..."
"Alright, no school stuff tomorrow, okay?" Robert orders. "Rest only."
"Rest only." You repeat.
"Alright, now go to bed. You look exhausted."
"Okay. Thanks for checking on me," You stand up slowly, paying close attention to how you feel. You give each of them a hug before going to your room.
You check your phone, again giving in to those bad habits.
Message from Masha the Manager
Doc appointment at 1 pm tomorrow. He's gonna make a house call.
Sent 7:28 PM
You shoot back a quick 'K' before turning it off and laying down for the night.
So. Heres this old fic from uhhhhhhhhhhhhh I really don’t remember how long ago. Originally I had it split into 3 parts on the posts that inspired it- and it was my first attempt at writing anything along the lines of stuffing, but it kind of ended up more like he was already coming down with something. It was on my first attempt at a fic blog- way back when and it got deleted because I didnt know how sideblogs worked back then and goofed. Thought I lost everything, then I found an old disc with a whole whack of it on there.
At the moment I can only find 2 of the 3 posts of the art that inspired it here and here. I’ll link the missing post as soon as I find it.
so um, warnings for vomit, cussing, and over-eating-ish and mentions of drinking. and I also am not editing it because im super lazy so its in the same glory as it was when i posted it years ago (2012 apparently)
2,864 words, apparently.
“Come on people! When I say I want you all mobilized in fifteen I don’t mean in half a damn hour. I mean twenty minutes ago.” Fury fumed over the intercom from his station on scene. His voice bounced off the inside of the transport van and rung through each individual earpiece. “Rise and shine, ‘cause we are in a fucking war against some baddies if you haven’t all noticed. You are my agents and I am expecting you to do your damn jobs at my order.”
“Load of fucking shit,” the sniper agent to Clint’s left mumbled, “two a.m. wakeup call is horseshit. I just finished a mission and got back at ten last night.”
“Yeah, welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D brother, what did you think this was? Day camp?” Clint double checked his packet was still together. He’d read it once they got to their positions, it was too dark inside the van. He shook his head a bit when the other agent went back to fuming. Running on low sleep was nothing, sure the headaches and fuzziness were a pain in the ass sometimes but it’s not hard to get used to. You have to get used to it in this job. Same with messed up schedules on basically everything. They would get an hour tops to set up and get ready for a long haul on their stations.
What he managed to make sense of before climbing in the back of the vehicle through his sleep-fogged mind was that they needed to be ready for anything by three thirty, three forty five at the latest with the other crew up ahead of them set up. He rubbed his face trying to wake up more, must be all the time he’s spent on normal schedule lately, it was causing a real issue. He wasn’t looking forward to the no doubt shitty and militant type food they were all going to have for breakfast within the next hour either. He was getting soft on the new routine of near-normal sleep and actual tasteful food instead of vacuum packed crap made for boosting endurance.
He leaned back to try and get into the mindset for the day. It was going to be a very very long one. Someone mentioned they might be stuck out there until seven that night. By then they’d have relief agents come in to give them a break, but as Hawkeye, well he was probably expected to stay around. Most teams wouldn’t shelf their best shooter if they could help it. He’d probably get a nap in at some stationed area. Though the accidental nap he got on the way there wasn’t something he completely cursed even though he didn’t like the fact of it.
“Alright, come on move out you all got a lot to go over and not much time.” The voice crackling into his ear is what startled him awake, and the hatch of the van swinging open definitely helped make that happen faster. Keeping near silent, everyone filed out and headed into the building while Agent Hill took control of their transport and directed it to their station a little ways away hidden in a different building.
Everyone was handed a pack; filled with the shitty food and bottles of water for their posts, their weapons if they hadn’t brought any and extra ammo and pieces if they did, additional intel for their briefing packages according to pay grade, and some quick hushed instruction to where they were all to be.
Clint took his without a word and made his way to his post. Abandoned, or purposefully emptied, industrial building and the usual sort of interior. Too much moving about would give away his position on the metal catwalk. He had a few windows to observe through and a railing to his back. He dropped his pack as lightly and quietly as he could and set himself facing the railing to observe everyone being dispatched while he read over his briefing package.
Exact sort of thing he expected since they woke him up. Nothing too big, but big enough to require a lot of force if anything went bad. He was given another radio code with instructions to call the other Avengers if things turned too ugly. And it was going to be a long-ass day. No break in sight until afternoon if they were lucky. He ripped open the first package of… well. He opened the first nutritional packet and set to work on it mindlessly while he kept reading and rereading. This was coded, but memorizing it and burning it was always his procedure.
By the fourth read through he was nearly done the second pack. Best to eat as much as he could, as much as he hated it and was off-put by eating at such a strange time after the Avengers got together. Professional agent Clint Barton, code name Hawkeye, sharpest shooter as they came- but totally useless without a sugar rush to start him at this time of night, and hell to deal with if he crashes afterward. Carbs, protein, sugar. The three biggest and most annoying things to eat right now, low on time and rushing to compensate for his mental sluggishness at this hour.
He startled himself with a small belch and nearly dropped everything. He did a quick scan and everything seemed normal. Confused for a second longer as to the origin of the sound, he came to the realization when he hiccupped. Ah. Right. He was eating, and apparently at the speed he was reading if the blooming discomfort in his slightly distended abdomen was anything to go by. He took a swig of the only soda from his pack, no doubt put there as a favor from a very sneaky woman. He let it fizz up in his mouth before swallowing it.
New diet. That’s another thing he reminded himself to update S.H.I.E.L.D on before the next mission. He downed some more soda and let the carbonation work its way back out in a few more small burps. It was definitely a good feeling. He just had to work the rest of the air out before the mission started. No big deal.
“Relax Barton,” He shifted in his new ‘nest’, “nothing you haven’t had to do before. Good to know I can still get mission jitters, heh. Maybe this’ll be fun.” He wanted it to be. He definitely wasn’t expecting this call when he decided to turn in early last night. He tried to tell himself the slight trembling feeling, not that he’d let his hands shake at all if it could be helped, was from nerves. Big man in the world now, sure, but unexpected missions always had excitement to them. Sometimes it left you a little shaken in the best ways. Not that he was sure how good this sort of shaken felt yet, all he could say for certain was that it was strange.
He shrugged his shoulders and straightened out before packing away the left overs and digging out a lighter to burn the paper with. The wind howled a little outside, bringing to his mind the chill of the night.
--
An hour later had him leaning lazily at a windowsill; nothing happened yet that needed his attention or intervention. He kept flitting his eyes about in a restless sort of way, glancing about but never focusing too long and trying to keep that trembling, tingling feeling filling him up at bay. He thought back to the night before, and about being so tired.
“See anything?” Another agent’s voice crackled through his earpiece. He pressed down on his microphone button to reply.
“Not a damn thing,” he drawled, “Anything from your sights?”
“Nothing yet,”
He let up off the mic and sighed. He felt his body buzz again in a wave under his skin and couldn’t help but shake his shoulders trying to get it out. Part of his mind nagged at him with a reminder of feeling distinctly unwell last night.
Drinking. Stark roped us all into it. Thinks just because he has a miracle liver means we all do.
Though it was harder to remind himself of that when he had to shake his shoulders and head again to fight off a wave of fuzziness.
--
It wasn’t for another forty-five minutes, and three updates from Fury himself, until Barton had something to hold his attention. He was crouched low at his post and grabbed at the shirt over his stomach as another wave of pain and sudden nausea shot through him. Sure he’d started idly rubbing his stomach a little earlier; he was getting butterflies was all. Usually something happened by now when they got this many people out that fast. He was getting more nervous the entire time, who didn’t when it came to performance issues? He was still having trouble focusing on the vast nothingness happening today by the time the butterflies started. But now this was throwing him off.
“Any news yet? Getting real bored up here,” he clicked the mic off after and waited.
“Nothing. Should be another hour at most. Getting antsy there, a little flighty? Ha.”
“Ha. Leave the jokes to someone who can handle them, Keith.” He turned down the radio and double checked the microphone was off when he curled up tighter into himself and put his head against the sill as another wave of discomfort washed over him.
Eventually, he had to get back up and in proper position. He felt a bit better after some time elapsed and figured as long as he didn’t over do anything and stayed relatively well hydrated he’d be good enough. He turned the radio back up and opened his water bottle as he slid back into the favored hiding position he found where he could stand full height without being seen. Another hour tops and he’d have something in his sights…
Hawkeye swallowed hard and backed away from his post. This was getting a little ridiculous. He stepped back until the guard rail pressed into his back. He hazarded a quick glimpse over before having to go back to staring at part of the wall to calm his roiling stomach, but his eyes didn’t miss a thing. All S.H.I.E.L.D’s other snipers were still focused at their stations. No other agents or personnel were in the area. He figured it was safe enough to sit down for a little and wait this out. Again.
He dropped slowly and cautiously, trying not to upset anything further, and dropped his legs over the side. He pressed his forehead to the cool metal of the guard rail and tried to focus on breathing evenly. At least if it all went to hell, it would go right the hell off his platform. Damn, even some personal snark wasn’t helping anything.
He shut his eyes tight and willed himself not to moan out-loud. Getting seen and getting heard were two ways to royally fuck up in this job, and now were also two ways to grab unwanted attention and ridicule over his gastric distress. His snaked one arm around the bar running at chest level and pulled his head down to lean heavily on it, holding it for dear life if his whitened knuckles were anything to go by. Clint’s other hand rested lightly on his stomach, too nervous to even try and ease the nausea by rubbing or curling up this time. By how ragged his breathing sounded, even trying to call in now wouldn’t work. His jaw felt glued together anyway, he really didn’t trust opening his damn trap for anything. Static fizzled over his earpiece and some other agents gave short updates.
After a few minutes with no relief Clint resigned that he might just actually lose it here. He shoved the microphone back and double checked it was switched off. Still on the right channel so just in case they did need him it was easy to radio back, he couldn’t back out but like hell he could get up right now. His stomach lurched and gurgled, leaving him coughing a little into his hand to stifle the sound and hopefully to help keep everything down. He felt a rush of stifling heat and sweat beaded on his neck.
Did he mention this was going to be a long-ass night?
“Got someone moving.” Clint perked up as best he could in this situation. Not the best idea, he shuddered and folded forward a bit more. He groped blindly for the water bottle he had been taking sips from to help quell the nausea with until now. He popped it open with his teeth and waited for someone else to give up more information. Nobody would realize he wasn’t looking right now, they’d all be too busy searching their own areas and figuring he was either doing the same or trained on the target already.
“Can’t see them.” Clint groaned aloud, unable to help it. He took another sip from the bottle, but just ended up spitting it out.
“I swear I will never say anything bad about anyone ever again…” he started mumbling to himself disjointedly. Promising things to any deity he ever heard of, cursing them all out.
“It’s the Director. No worries, everyone,” Agent Hill came over the comms. “He and I are double checking parts of the perimeter. The targets shouldn’t be this far back at all.”
“Fuck. Fuck everything and the damn horse it rode in on,” he swallowed hard and tried to ignore the burning at the back of his throat.
“Confirmed. It is Director Fury and Agent Hill.”
Radio silence returned for another stretch of time. Felt like almost another hour. Clint spat down on to the floor below again. Finally giving in to the urge to wrap his arm tightly around his middle, he rocked himself slightly to see if it helped. It did for a small moment. He let out a shaky sigh and glanced back over at the windows where the sun was now creeping up through the clouds of dirt and grime on the glass. He considered moving back a bit and laying down before radioing in his distress, but not before he was sure it was something he could handle. After a few more intense seconds he decided that was the best plan of action.
After about four more seconds his stomach decided that was a stupid idea and he needed to keep his ass very still right the hell where it was. And less than a second after that, Barton was parting with a good portion of his stomach’s contents. There was no elegant or quiet and stealthy way to cover that. He retched. He shut his eyes and shook a little harder after the fact. Resting his head, defeated, on the railing again, he Clint tried to work up the strength and his voice well enough to call it in if someone wasn’t already beating him to it.
“Damnit Barton,” Fury’s voice vaulted up to where Hawkeye was slumped, “What the hell?!”
Clint opened his eyes slowly, he shook a little more in some vague form of terror that filtered through his sickened mind. He scooted back a bit, ignoring the wet dripping of his own vomit onto the floor below. He pulled the mic piece down and flicked it on.
“Sorry sir, Agent Hawkeye reporting,” his voice shook, wavered and cracked a little, but still carried over the radio and down from his nest, “I think I’m a little under the weather.”
“Well no fucking shit.” Agent Hill had retreated a number of steps from Fury and the mess surrounding him. She pulled her clipboard up and started flipping through pages while putting out a radio call for a med truck and a replacement. If he had felt any better, Clint would have laughed at the absurd sight, but unfortunately he was back to fighting to keep down what was left in his stomach. “If you’re gonna do that again I’d like some damn warning.”
All Hawkeye could manage for warning was a quick ‘move-aside’ hand motion before leaning through the gap in the rail again and vomiting once more. By now everyone in the building knew what was going on and were switching radio channels and trying to ignore the sounds of Clint losing it all over the cemented floor.
After a third bout of being sick, Clint was left dry-heaving and limp against the fever-warmed metal. Too shaky to even hold the water bottle that hadn’t left his side today, leaving it to fall below him too when he tried to grab it. Within minutes two medical technicians were helping him down from his nest. He felt so shaky and wrung out he didn’t even attempt to fight them over being taken out on a stretcher. He just laid on his side and curled in on himself as they pushed him past Hill and Fury, who was still cleaning himself up.
“Next time spare us the damn show and call it in before the firework finale, alright?”
Kid Y/N feels under the weather, what is gonna happen? ft Wanda and Natasha
Rain pelted against the large windows of the Avengers compound, a symphony of nature's melancholy to accompany the drama unfolding within. Y/N, a young child with an inclination for mischief, which made her seem like Loki's daughter sometimes (she may be...), and two extraordinary guardians: Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, found herself feeling under the weather. The cold had crept into her small frame, bringing with it a storm of sneezes and sniffles.
In the heart of the Avengers' home, the living room was a battleground. Y/N lay on the couch, surrounded by a fortress of plush toys. The television played some animated movie, forgotten in the background. Natasha was still donned in her Black Widow uniform after returning from a mission with Wanda, her fiery red hair cascading in waves, was the epitome of calm. She knelt beside the couch, worry etching lines on her face as she touched Y/N's forehead with the back of her hand.
Y/N - Mama, I don't wanna take those yucky medicines!
Whined the little girl as her raspy voice showed her clear discomfort.
Wanda, also in her Scarlet Witch attire, floated into the room with a tray of steaming soup and a small bottle of medicine. Her expressive eyes softened as they met Y/N's defiant gaze.
Wanda - Sweetheart, it'll make you feel better. Just a spoonful, okay? *frowns*
The girl's eyes narrowed and a pout formed on her lips.
Y/N - No! It tastes icky.
Natasha sighed, her stern look softened by a smile.
Natasha - Come on, kiddo. You'll be back to causing chaos in no time.
Y/N's eyes welled up, a mixture of exhaustion and frustration.
Y/N - I don't wanna be sick, Mommy.
Natasha's heart melted at the word. Y/N had walked into her and Wanda's life like a burst of sunshine, and now, seeing her curled up with illness, it felt like the sun had been clouded over.
Natasha exchanged a glance with Wanda, who was now floating in the air, her green eyes filled with concern.
Wanda - We just want you to feel better, little one. *soft voice with a motherly smile*
But Y/N was having none of it. With a sudden burst of energy, she sat up, sending the plush toys scattering like leaves in the wind.
Y/N - I don't want the yucky medicine! I hate it!
Natasha's eyes met Wanda's, both sharing a knowing look. Parenting, even for two superheroes, had its challenges. But they were up for it. Wanda floated down to Y/N's eye level, a playful smile on her face.
Wanda - How about a deal, little rebel? Take the medicine, and Mama will read you a story. A magical one.
Y/N eyed Wanda suspiciously, her small brain working through the proposal.
Y/N - A really magical one? *head tilt*
Wanda nodded, her fingers conjuring a spark of Scarlet energy.
Wanda - The most magical story you've ever heard.
Y/N contemplated this for a moment before finally nodding with all the seriousness a child could muster.
Y/N - Okay, but no yucky medicine next time. *scrunches nose*
Natasha handed Wanda the medicine with a smirk.
Natasha - Of course, princesa.
Wanda poured the medicine into a small spoon, casting a glance at Natasha. Natasha nodded subtly, understanding the silent question. Wanda approached Y/N, who was still eyeing the spoon with scepticism.
Wanda - Open wide, little one. *cooing*.
Y/N opened her mouth reluctantly and Wanda administered the medicine. The kid grimaced at the taste, but she swallowed it down with a determined expression.
Natasha - Good job, honey!
Natasha praised, ruffling Y/N's hair.
Wanda - Now, for the magical story...
Wanda settled on the floor near Natasha with Y/N nestled between their chests.
As Wanda began weaving a tale of enchanted forests and talking animals, Y/N's eyes sparkled with wonder. The room echoed with Wanda's melodic voice, each word painting a vivid picture in the child's imagination. Natasha sat back, watching the scene unfold with a smile. The storm outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of the family huddled together.
As the story reached its climax, Y/N's eyelids grew heavy. The pair shared a glance, silently agreeing to transfer the dozing child to her cosy bed. Together, they lifted Y/N, who mumbled something about flying with Mama and Mommy in the magical forest.
In her room, surrounded by plush toys and soft blankets, Y/N slept peacefully. Natasha and Wanda lingered for a moment, marvelling at the small, slumbering figure. Parenthood was an adventure, one they embraced wholeheartedly.
As they tiptoed out of the room, Natasha began to whisper.
Natasha - We make a good team, don't we? *smirks*
Wanda nodded, her eyes reflecting the love and contentment they both felt.
Wanda - The best. *winks*
And with that, the two superheroes, mothers to a special little girl, ventured back into the living room. The storm outside had quieted, leaving behind the soft hum of family and the promise of many more magical stories to come.
Spider-Girl has a panic attack ft Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff
The air was thick with tension as the trio navigated through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned Hydra facility. Wanda Maximoff, with her scarlet eyes glowing, moved gracefully, using her telekinetic powers to disable security systems and clear the path. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, trailed behind her, executing precise strikes on any unsuspecting guards that crossed their way.
Y/N Parker, known as Spider-Girl, swung effortlessly between the walls, her agility matching that of her brother, Peter, the famed Spider-Man. The mission had brought them back to a place that haunted Y/N's nightmares, the place where Hydra had once held her captive.
As they reached a dimly lit room, memories flooded back, and Y/N's breath hitched. She could almost hear the distant echoes of her own cries from the past. The room seemed to close in, and the air turned heavy. Wanda and Natasha, engrossed in neutralizing threats, failed to notice the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanour.
A sudden explosion echoed through the facility, snapping Y/N back to the present. The enemies had found them, and chaos erupted. Wanda conjured barriers to deflect bullets, while Natasha gracefully twisted her body, avoiding incoming attacks. Y/N swung into action, her heightened senses allowing her to anticipate movements.
Amid the chaos, the teenager felt a shiver race down her spine, an icy hand gripping her heart. The memories of Hydra's experiments, the isolation, and the pain resurfaced, overwhelming her. She tried to shake off the haunting thoughts, but they clung to her like a suffocating fog.
Wanda, engrossed in her own battle, threw a barrage of energy at their adversaries. Natasha, displaying her trademark acrobatics, flipped over an opponent, delivering a swift kick to the back of their head. But in the midst of the fight, they remained oblivious to Y/N's struggle.
A sudden, searing pain tore through Y/N's shoulder. She gasped, the pain jolting her back to the present. A bullet had grazed her, leaving a trail of blood. She stumbled, the weight of the memories and the physical pain combining into a debilitating force.
Wanda, sensing the disturbance in the air, turned her attention to Y/N. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of Y/N, clutching her bleeding shoulder, breaths coming in ragged gasps. Natasha, too, noticed the sudden change and the blood-staining Y/N's costume.
Natasha - Y/N!
Natasha's voice cut through the chaos, concern etched across her face.
Wanda's eyes flared with Scarlet Witch energy as she surveyed the room. The enemies had just made a grave mistake. They had hurt one of their own.
In an instant, Wanda's power surged, creating a whirlwind of chaos that incapacitated their rivals. Natasha, her movements now driven by a fierce mama bear protective instinct, dispatched the remaining threats with deadly precision.
Wanda rushed to Y/N's side, her hands glowing with a soft, healing light.
Wanda - Sweetheart, what happened? *mix of worry and anger in her tone*
Natasha joined them, her eyes narrowing at the blood on Y/N's shoulder.
Natasha - Did they do this to you, baby? *growls*
Y/N, still grappling with the remnants of her panic, managed to choke out just one sentence.
Y/N - I'm okay, just a graze.
Wanda's gaze bore into Y/N's eyes, her empathetic powers sensing the turmoil within.
Wanda - No lies, honey. We're here for you. *softly smiles*
The weight of the unspoken past hung in the air, and Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. She couldn't hold it back any longer. The memories, the fear, the pain... it all came crashing down.
Y/N - I can't breathe. *whispers with a strained voice*
Wanda's eyes widened with understanding. She had seen this before, the aftermath of trauma. Gently, she guided Y/N to sit on a nearby crate, Natasha standing guard beside them.
Wanda - It's okay, Y/N. You're safe now. Focus on your breathing.
Wanda reassured, her hands now enveloped in a warm, soothing light.
As Wanda worked her healing magic, Natasha kept a vigilant watch, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any lingering threats. Y/N tried to follow Wanda's advice, focusing on the rise and fall of her chest. It was a battle against the memories, a struggle to separate the past from the present.
Wanda, sensing the need for a deeper connection, reached out with her telepathic abilities, gently exploring the recesses of Y/N's mind. She found the echoes of pain, the scars left by Hydra's cruelty. With a gentle touch, Wanda created a mental barrier, shielding Y/N from the invasive memories.
Natasha, her eyes sharp and unwavering, turned to face the defeated enemies strewn across the room. They had underestimated the strength of the trio, and now they paid the price.
Wanda finished her healing, the soft glow fading from her hands.
Wanda - How are you feeling? *genuine concern and head tilt*
Y/N took a deep, shaky breath and finally spoke after her unfortunately long flashback.
Y/N - Better... Thanks.
Natasha approached, a stern expression on her face.
Natasha - We need to talk about what happened here, and about Hydra. *frowns*
Y/N nodded, a mix of gratitude and apprehension in her eyes. The shared history, the unspoken bond formed through battles and victories, bound them together in a way that words couldn't fully capture.
As they left the Hydra facility behind, the trio walked side by side. Wanda and Natasha, each with an arm around Y/N, silently vowed to protect their unofficial daughter from the shadows of the past. The scars might linger, but together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead.
However... as the trio moved cautiously through the facility's wreckage, the air still charged with tension. Y/N's steps became unsteady, the loss of blood making every movement an effort. Wanda and Natasha exchanged a concerned glance as they supported her, the weight of worry heavy in their eyes.
Natasha - Kiddo, you're losing a lot of blood! We need to get you out of here.
Natasha stated, her voice firm but laced with concern.
Y/N - I'm... I'm fine.
Y/N insisted, though her voice wavered. She couldn't afford to show weakness, not when the memories of her captivity still lingered. But the pallor of her face and the weakness in her limbs betrayed her true condition.
Wanda, her maternal instincts heightened, placed a gentle hand on Y/N's cheek.
Wanda - You're not fine, draga. We need to tend to your wound. (Draga = darling)
The term of endearment, spoken in Wanda's native Sokovian, resonated with warmth. Y/N managed a weak smile, appreciating the comfort amid chaos. Still, her steps faltered, and a wave of dizziness threatened to pull her into the darkness.
Natasha noticed the subtle change and urged the younger girl while adjusting her grip to provide more support.
Natasha - Hold on, Y/N. We're almost there.
As they neared the exit, the trio was met with the sight of their jet parked discreetly outside. Wanda's magic gently opened the hatch, revealing a space that, at the moment, felt like a sanctuary. Natasha guided Y/N into the jet, and Wanda followed closely behind.
Once inside, Y/N sank into one of the seats, the exhaustion and pain evident in her eyes. Natasha quickly assessed the wound, her fingers deftly probing the injury. Wanda, her magic still at the ready, focused on stabilizing Y/N's condition.
Natasha - You need medical attention, now. *meets Wanda's gaze*
Wanda nodded in agreement, a flicker of concern in her eyes. Y/N, feeling the motherly vibes surrounding her, couldn't help but be grateful for the support she found in these two extraordinary women.
The jet's engines roared to life, and Natasha secured Y/N in one of the medical bays. Wanda continued to channel her healing energy, knitting together torn tissues and slowing the bleeding. Yet, the concern etched on their faces lingered.
As the jet soared into the night sky, Natasha took a seat beside Y/N and spoke softly but with a stern edge because of her nerves.
Natasha - You can't downplay this, detka. We need to take care of you. (детка = babe)
Wanda joined them, her hand finding Y/N's.
Wanda - You're not alone in this. We're here for you, princesa. (Princesa = princess)
The terms of endearment, spoken by both Wanda and Natasha, wrapped around Y/N like a protective shield. In that moment, she let go of the stoic facade she often wore and allowed herself to be vulnerable. The weight of the past, the pain of the present, and the uncertainty of the future became palpable.
Y/N - I... I was scared. Back there, it felt like... like I was back in that cell.
Y/N admitted with her voice sounding barely like a whisper.
Wanda squeezed Y/N's hand, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding.
Wanda - You faced that fear, and you're here now. You're strong, babygirl.
Natasha, typically reserved, placed a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder and a kiss on her forehead.
Natasha - We've got your back. Always.
The rest of the journey was spent in a quiet understanding. Wanda's healing energy worked its magic, and Y/N felt the pain decrease. The concern in Natasha's eyes, however, lingered. As they touched down at their home base, Wanda and Natasha swiftly organized medical assistance waiting for them.
Once off the jet, Y/N felt a renewed sense of strength. The support from Wanda and Natasha, the unspoken bond that transcended words, was a source of comfort. As medical professionals took over, Wanda and Natasha stood side by side, their protective gaze never leaving Y/N.
Y/N - Thank you, for everything.
The youngest whispered, a genuine smile playing on her lips.
Wanda wrapped her in a comforting hug, and Natasha joined in. The trio stood there, proving the strength they found in their shared pain and victories.
Natasha - We're family, dorogoy. We take care of our own. (дорогой = my dear)
As the medical team led Y/N away for further treatment, Wanda and Natasha exchanged a glance filled with a shared determination. The shadows of Hydra might linger, but together, they would face them head-on. The makeshift family forged in battles and blood was unbreakable, each member finding strength in the love and protection they provided for one another.
〚 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?
