Sick Day Part 2
Relationship: AOU!Pietro Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 1550
AN: This kind of got out of hand, I wanted it to be like 500 words or so but I just got really into it. Now that I have this finished, I’m going to start the Elliot requests and hopefully one of them will be up by Thursday. Thanks for reading and enjoy!
You thought of the silver haired speedster as you moved through the halls on your level of the Stark Tower- technically the Avengers tower but that’s just a technicality. You were smiling to yourself in your own little bubble. Although you two were nothing but friends, you felt like you were on cloud nine. That nothing could bring you down from the high of the memory of kissing Pietro’s forehead.
“Pietro, really? I cannot believe you said that to her,” Wanda said in exasperation. She plopped herself down on the couch near her older- but not by much- brother’s feet. With a small shove, she pushed his feet up and onto her lap. “Are you feeling any better today?”
“Is it because your little crush was taking care of you?”
“No. That is-uh. What is the word? It is preposterous.” Pietro said.
“You are a terrible liar, you know this, no?”
He sighed and sunk back into this couch. “I know this.”
“Good,” the twins sat in silence, Pietro’s sniffles and coughing the only thing breaking through the silence. “You know that she does like you?”
Pietro hummed, his sister’s statement not yet fully sinking in. He was calm, until it finally connected in his mind. Pietro’s eyes opened in a flash and he sat up, just a bit too quick, even by his standards.
“Really?” he said while blinking repeatedly and holding his head.
He flipped the blanket off his body and rolled onto the floor, in an attempt to run to her floor.
“Pietro! You can’t run, you are still sick!”
“Then I will crawl! I’ve waited too long to know if she feels the same way and I’m not wasting another second waiting to tell her.”
“You idiot,” She whispered as she shook her head. Wanda raised her hand and felt the surge of energy run through her as she used her powers to move her still moving brother, who had somehow reached the kitchen in his crawl. “You can wait and so can she.”
Pietro wriggled in the red light that engulfed him, trying to break free from the restraints it had put on him. He struggled for all of two seconds and then went limp in the air.
“I give up. Take me back to my grave.”
Wanda rolled her eyes. Her brother had always been the drama queen of the two. Carefully, she moved him back onto the couch and replaced the blanket over him. It took her a few tries to do it correctly, she was, after all, still in training.
“When you are over the flu, go talk to her.”
You woke up due to a stuffy nose and a terrible strain of coughing. You rolled over to your bedside table and looked at your phone, squinting at the bright light that shined in your eyes.
Grumbling to yourself, you sat up and coughed. It felt like it lasted forever.
“God dammit,” you said in between coughs. “Fuck you, Pietro for getting me sick.”
You collapsed back on the bed, the coughing fit having wiped out what little energy you had. Being woken up by your own inability to breathe through your nose at two in the morning was not how you wanted to start your Friday.
Fury would not be happy about this nor would the team. You already had a scheduled mission, only your second since completing preliminary work to join the Avengers. If you went sick, you would blow the mission but if you didn’t go your entire career as an Avenger would be screwed. The team would be more understanding though.
In a split second decision, you got up with a blanket wrapped snuggly around your shoulders like a cape and walked blindly to the kitchen that was a floor down. You waited patiently for the elevator to come to your floor. A loud yawn sounded from your mouth as the elevator dinged, alerting her of its arrival.
The light flooded out of the small compartment and was much brighter than your phone’s. You rubbed at your eyes as you stepped inside, yawning again. The elevator music, something Tony had found amusing, blared in your ear. It was some kind of techno version of some god awful song you couldn’t remember.
You mumbled to yourself, a reminder to yell at Tony for having elevator music. The ride was short and you couldn’t be happier about that. The farther you walked away from the closing doors of the elevator, the more muffled the song became.
The darkness of the kitchen and living room was welcomed. You found your way through the dark, hands brushing against counters and walls, until you found the refrigerator. Blinking again at the light, you grabbed the gallon of milk and proceeded to pour yourself a glass. You took small sips of the milk before you found yourself wandering over to the couch where Pietro had been. He was probably in his room at this time of night, well morning. You sighed at the thought of him but sat where he had been.
Unfortunately for you, you hadn’t noticed the lump that was still there.
Everything went downhill from there.
You jumped at the contact of the unfamiliar feel of it and the lump sat up, causing you to freak out. You let out a squeak as you feel to the floor and what little milk that was left in the cup spilt of the carpet.
You heard your name called in an accent that was all too familiar to you. He blinked at you, taking in the look of horror on your face.
“Are you alright?”
“Pietro?” you spluttered. “What are you still doing down here?”
He squinted, like he had no idea where the two of you were. Pietro glanced around the living room and shrugged. “I do not know.”
“Alright get up, we are getting you into your own bed.”
“Will you be joining me?”
You gave him an annoyed glance but you were trying to hold back your smile. “Nope, I don’t want Pietro cooties.” you said with a nasally voice.
“Ah, but it seems you’ve already caught them.”
“Shut up.” you muttered as you grabbed his blankets.
“You are quite cute when you are flustered,” he said as he got up.
The pair of you walked slowly to the elevator, tripping over each other’s feet in the darkness. You kept your hands on him, one on his stomach and the other on his back, after all he was the sickest of you two and he wasn’t exactly the most balanced person when he wasn’t speeding.
He felt butterflies flutter in his stomach at your touch, it was so gentle and yet sturdy. Pietro looked down at you small hands trying to guide him carefully up the small staircase.
The smile that graced his face was beautiful, you had only gotten a peak though because he was looking down at you. Your cheeks felt heated with the tinge of a blush.
Finally arriving in his bedroom after the silent journey, you threw his blanket across his bed and as you were about to step over the threshold of his room and into the hallway, you felt something was wrong. Your stomach growled and bile filled up your throat. One of your hands came up to clap against your mouth, you whirled around and ran into Pietro’s bathroom with him chasing after you on unsteady legs.
In a blur, you slid onto the floor and pushed the cover and seat up. The back of your throat burned as the vomit came up. A pair of hands combed away your hair and pulled it out of your face ever so gently. He cooed, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear that you didn’t expect to ever come from his mouth, especially to you.
You could barely here him though over the sound of the vomit splashing against the water and the porcelain of the sides.
It went on for only a few more seconds and you had never felt more relief than of stopping the vomit. You heaved a few times and mustered up the courage to look at Pietro through half lidded eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“I think the Pietro cooties is a real disease.”
Neither of you moved as you watched each other. The silence was comfortable but you weren’t as your mouth tasted funny and your throat was burning. Vomiting was not attractive.
“Up you go.” Pietro pulled you up carefully and led you to his bed. He laid you down and did what you had done for him, he pulled the covers up to your chin and made sure you were comfortable.
“No,” you whined. “I’m supposed to take care of you.”
“I’m just returning the favor,” he said through a fit of coughs.
“Are you going to stay?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Well, I’m not about to kick you out of your own bed.”
“If you did, there would be hell to pay.”
You mumbled and held up the covers. He stared at you for a second before giving you an impish grin and settling next to you.
“Look at us speedy, we are just a pair of sick people that caught the Pietro cooties.”