Patching their wounds
*^*ft- Johnny Storm, Steve Rogers, John Walker, Joaquin Torres, Perter Parker, Thor, Loki
a.k.a you’re their personal nurse
*^*tw-mentions of blood, cuts, cleaning up wounds, fluff, kind of implied romantic relationship, might be spelling mistakes (let me know if I missed anything else)
*^*a/n-I’M BACK FROM HELL!!!
*^*wc-2k
Johnny storm-
It’s not everyday Johnny got hurt, just most days. Something you had no choice but to get used to and you did eventually- after catching him in countless situations that for most people would be considered not normal.
One time you found him in the bathroom trying to stop a terrible nose bleed with one of your pads and a week after that you spotted him in the kitchen holding a bag of peas to his head at 2 am in the complete dark while eating cold pizza and on- not that rare of occasions ignoring his injuries completely, sitting in front of the tv and eating junk food, not caring that there’s dried blood on his forehead down to the beige of his nose.
You’d mostly given up on offering to help him since he refuses every time and insists on doing it himself because according to him it’s ‘not that bad’ and ‘can handle it.’ You don’t push the issue or at least you never have before now. But you seen what happened on the news, how badly it looked and how much red ran down his face.
He hald himself in the bathroom the moment he got back from the mission, not bothering to go to the medical bay like he refuses to do every time for reasons unknown to you.
You’re not sure what made this time different but when you knock on the door and offer your help he doesn’t refuse.
“Sit” you say quietly and he obliges, plopping down on the toilet seat lid. You’re looking at the cut in the middle of his head split to his temple right below his hairline. It looks deep and painful. You place the thick cloth back on the wound and gesture for him to hold it there while you grab gazes and antibiotic ointment.
“Don’t” he voices
“I wasn’t going to say anything”
“Yes you were” there’s quiet for a moment as you hold the swab up to his cut “it looks worse then what it is”
“It wouldn’t look like anything if you had watched your back like I keep telling you”
“I know I know we’ve been through this before” he blows out, wincing as you place cleaning ointment over the gash
“Then why don’t you ever listen? Risking your life to show off isn’t some game you should want to play”
“Ok but did you see what I did with the fire and-”
“Johnny”
“Alright alright. Ok I get it”
“Ok”
“Ok”
“Fine”
“Fine”
“Fine” you snip back, done with wrapping the white bandage around Johnny’s head and packing away what you didn’t use back in the first aid kit. Johnny stands, turning to the mirror and leaning in to look at the bandage on his forehead before looking at you.
“Thank you” you roll your eyes and move to walk away but he stops you, grabbing your waist and pulling you in “I mean it, thank you”
“...you’re welcome” he leans down and kisses you smiling as his lips make contact with yours.
Steve Rodgers-
“Yikies” you announce your arrival, shoes softly clicking against the floor as you make your way across the room. Steve’s shirt was partly lifted over his back and you could see a purple bruise began to form along his spin.
“You should knock” he pulls his shirt off the rest of the way and throws it in a hamper your eyes glued to his muscles and ignoring what was probably your one hundredth warning. It wasn’t the first time you heard those words from him and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
“The door was open” you point to the still open door and Steve gives you a pointed look, fully prepared to pull a lecture out of his ass about privacy and respect with bullet points and a pop up quiz at the end.
“Never mind” you walk closer to him and hold out a bag of ice. He makes an attempt to grab it but you pull back, holding the ice to your chest. “Oh right, Tony wanted me to tell you something…”
“What is it?”
“I can’t remember but I’m pretty sure it was important” he sighs and walks away to get a clean shirt leaving you to stare at his back “can I ask you a question?”
“You’re probably going to do it anyway”
“…Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
“When you get hit or thrown off a building or shot, anything- everything” he takes a minute, pulling on a cream colored shirt, tousling his blonde hair.
“...the super soldier serum doesn’t stop the pain of taking a hit. I can feel everything. Every hit, every cut, every bullet, every bruise.” He walks back and you have to look up to continue looking into his eyes. “But I think it helps you be able to stand the pain and to take on more of it” you hum in response
“Are you sure it’s the effects of the serum” his brows farrow “could’ve been all that time in the ice” he huffs out a laugh
“Could have” he smiles and you place the ice against his chest
“I should go” you turn walking away and looking over your shoulder “you should get that looked at though and go see what Tony wanted”
John walker-
“Didn’t the doctor tell you to rest your leg?” Your brows were raised in anticipation, waiting for an answer from the blonde. You expected him to act like a misbehaving child getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing but he didn’t. John didn’t even falter his steps as he kept his eyes forward, trained on the punching bag.
“Hellooo...John?” After a moment he grabbes the bag full of sand and steadies it, out of breath
“This is me resting” he huffs out, looking you over and noticing the white box in your hand “I’m fine”
“Right, well” You lift your hand to the bandage around his arm, no longer just white but red as well but he’s successfully ignoring you “I’m pretty sure you ripped your stitches trying to get revenge on that bag” you pause, walking over to the nearest bench “how long has it been since it’s last been changed?”
Walker steadies the punching bag again, looking at you pointedly and clearly annoyed “I’m not trying to get revenge”
“…Clearly you're not the captain of sarcasm. Just let me take a look then I’ll be out of your hair and you can go back to punishing that bag for whatever it did to you, ok?”
“…Fine” he walks over and plops down on the bench beside you while you unpack the gaze and disinfectant spray and unwrap the dirty cloth and place it aside.
“Good news, the stitches aren’t ripped just needed cleaning. You know a little gratitude would go a long way” he rolls his eyes. You finish cleaning and wrapping the stitches back up in a clean bandage a few moments later. “Alright all done. What do you rate my services?”
“You sure you’re not taking this doctor passant thing a little too seriously?” You roll your eyes, packing up the medical supplies and placing them back in the first aid kit. “I’m joking” he stands when you do, stopping you from leaving without touching you “it feels a lot better. Thank you”
“Well don’t get to excited, the next time I do this it won’t be free, you’ll have to pay me somehow” you smile at him “Ok well I’ll let you get back to-“ you gesture to the punching bag “that- don’t you know, over do it”
“I won’t”
Joaquin Torres-
“ssss’ ow owowow” he hisses quietly muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite understand
“Don’t be a baby, you can handle it falcon” you say his ‘new name’ pointedly as you dab another open cut on his forehead
“Oh? What’s that I hear in your voice?”
“Concern”
“Mmm you sure it’s not jealousy?” You hit his arm and he huffs out a laugh
“That’s not funny Torres”
“You’re right sorry” he says, his lips still stretched in a tight line
“Then stop smiling. Ever since you became falcon you’re banged up all the time”
“And I told you I’m fine remember?” You look down focusing on peeling back another bandaid
“Hey” he says softly and stands, bring you into a hug “I’ll be fine, alright”
“You’re squishing me” you say through puckered lips
“Well I’m not letting go until you say it with me. You’ll be fine my favorite person in the whole world”
“I’m not saying that”
“Just the first part?”
“…You’ll be fine”
“See?” He loosens his hold on you and peers down “that wasn’t so bad”
“Just be careful”
“You know I will”
Peter Parker-
You peal the white paper off the bandaid and press the sticky part to his skin, the brown bandaid standing out on his bruised cheek in contrast to the yellowish hue.
Taking out another bandage you pause to look at peters who begins to shift under your stare and narrowed eyes
“Are you sure this wasn’t flash?”
“What? Nonono...no. I told you it was some guy”
“Right, some guy named Steve. But you would tell me if it was flash right?”
“Yeah of course”
“...good cuz I’d totally kick flash’s ass
“Yeah...yeah totally” you place another bandaid, placing it directly on the cut on his chin adding up to four bandaids in total.
“Maybe you should stop taking that bus or get your license” you mumble
“You first” he laughs and immediately regrets it as he winces from the open cut on his lip
“...I’m going to get ice”
“Uh yeah thanks”
Thor-
“The future king everyone!” you clapped your hands together and smiled, your words thick with false pride and you stride over to the blonde god who winces as he touches the cut above his left brow. “You’re not invincible you know?”
“Oh really? I had no idea” he says sarcastically
“You seemed to have an idea when you thought to tell Volstagg to throw you into the bifrost head first to Odin knows where in your drunken state” you sit next to him and press the rag in your hand to the cut on his brow “that was stupid and dangerous” he groans
“You sound like my father”
“He’s a very wise king. Something that you’ll have to be one day” you pull back the rag and look at him “a day that will hopefully come after you stop acting like an idiot” you emphasize your warning with a flick to his forehead “understand?”
“...understood” he grabs your hand with the rag still inside and puts it back on his cut, cuffing the back of your hand with his palm. It’s warm and larger than yours.
Before you realize it you break from the daze his blue eyes hood you in. Standing you slip your hand out of his
“Well then I’ll let you get back to your…” you pause, your voice getting quieter with each word
“My?” He questions waiting for you to continue and stands with you
“Thoughts” you say out of panic
“My thoughts?”
“Yes your...thoughts”
“Right…important thoughts”
“Very important…and future king thoughts”
“Indeed”
Loki-
“You’re an idiot you know that?” You say from the doorway, holding a rag filled with ice and an unimpressed look on your face
“Come to see a fallen prince?”
“Don’t be so dramatic Loki” he doesn’t spare you a glade as you walk over to him and sit on the edge of the window seat next to him. You bring the ice to his forehead where a red bump was beginning to form. Loki flinched away before looking at your hand. Hesitating and slow, he leans in and the ice touches the bruise.
“Is it too cold?”
“I’m fine” he gruffed out, you hum in acknowledgment and the room goes quiet again as you ice his bruise
“If it’s any consolation” you break the silence “I bet on you to win”
“I don’t need your pity”
“It’s not pity. I really did think you’d win”
Long after everyone had their fill of booze and were drunk off their asses, Volstagg bet his axe that the god of mischief couldn’t beat him in hand to hand combat. For whatever reason- pride probably Loki agreed. Clearly he had lost and now you’re nursing his wounds with ice that was used to keep the beer cold.
“Sorry to disappoint” you rolled your eyes at the tone of his words
“It’s not a disappointment Loki”
“I’m sure it isn’t” he gruffs out
“…you’re doing it again”
“Doing what?”
“You’re being so defensive and for nothing while I’m trying to help”
“I didn’t ask for your help”
“Yeah you’re right but I’m here so maybe stop acting like an asshole” you toss the rag in his direction, it landing in between his legs “ice your own damn head” he picks up the discarded rag and holds it to his head
“…thanks”
“Yeah whatever”
