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melodylnoelle · 1 year

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Kiss It Away

I opened my computer to get to writing and realized I somehow never hit post on the one from Friday?? So here it is. Whoops.

The Cards Have Spoken - Week 9 (@brightsun-and-darkmidnight ’s cards)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: Steve Rogers x reader Category: Angst - Hospital Relationship: Shy and flirt AU: Soulmates Warnings/Notes: Injuries and a little suggestive // For these, we are setting it to a minimum of 500 words. You can use these same cards for your own story if you like, but please tag me and @brightsun-and-darkmidnight so that we can see what you do! This was a different one for me, for sure. Please enjoy Words: 1951 Summary: Steve arrives at the hospital after you are hurt on a mission Masterlist

Steve strode at a quick pace through the hospital, searching room by room for you. He knew you weren’t in any of the ones that he passed, but he couldn’t help but look anyway. The tugging in his chest was pulling him forward, and he knew you were close.

At least he knew you were alive. He certainly would have known if you were not – he had heard from Pepper what it had felt like when she lost Tony, and that wasn’t what he was feeling now. It was pure, unhindered longing. And pain.

He let his body move on its own, following the tug in your direction, until he was standing outside of Room 254. The tugging turned to duller, a longing to hold you, and he knew he had found the right room.

He took a deep breath, then another, willing himself to look calmer. The last thing that he wanted was to burst into that hospital room and worry you. He could hear the monitors beeping on the other side of the door and timed his breathing to their rhythm.

When he felt he had calmed enough, he pushed the door open softly and stepped into the room.

His heart plummeted to the floor as he took in the extent of the damage. Your arms were wrapped up completely from mid-bicep to the knuckles. Your forehead had a bandage just above your left eye, and there was a matching one of the left side of your neck. He was sure, from Bucky’s description of events, that there were more injuries that he couldn’t see.

He internally kicked himself for not going on this mission. It had been his to run, his mess to clean up. But he had things that needed to be taken care of in the compound, so you had volunteered to go in his place. He had trusted that you and Bucky would watch each other’s backs.

What he hadn’t thought about is that the way that you worked together was near reckless. Both of you were two brazen about completing the task at hand, taking whatever risks were necessary and with whatever potential injuries you have to take. Bucky at least had the serum to heal, but that wasn’t the same for you.

Now, you were here in the nearest hospital to the mission site, after throwing yourself within a blast radius full of shrapnel to push a family out of the way. He was surprised, after Bucky explained it on the video call earlier, that you didn’t look worse. Or feel worse. Maybe it was because you were sleeping, but the pain that he could feel on your behalf was duller than he would have expected. It had hit him like wrecking ball initially, but now it was a muted, dull ache.

He watched your eyes flutter open, looking around the room. They settled on Steve after a moment, focusing, and a warm smile touched your face. “Hey, hot stuff.”

“Hey, doll.” He swallowed, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat.

“How’d you get here so fast?”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “I left as soon as I heard, but it’s been a few hours. Took some time to get here.”

“Hours? I thought it was less than that. Must’ve been ‘sleep.”

The slur to your words left his heart aching, until he got close enough to read the IV.

Ah. Morphine. At least now he knew why the pain he felt was so dulled. Preparing himself for the lack of mental clarity and nausea he was about to feel second-hand, he decided to start with the important news. “There’s a quinnjet here to take you back to the compound. Sam and Bucky are at the front desk arranging for you to be released. Then we’ll take you to the infirmary in the compound so Banner can keep an eye on you.”

“Soundss good t’ me.” You frowned. “Can we leave t’ morphine ‘ere? I don’ like how’t makes me feel.”

Steve chuckled. “Better than pain, though, right?” You shook your head. “Alright, we’ll find something else for the pain, then.”

“Thanks.” You shifted, sitting up in the hospital bed. “Can we get s’me food, too? ‘M starvin’.”

“Course you can. Anything you want, doll.”

“Maybe fast food? Or shwe… shawarma?” Steve tried not to laugh as you struggled to get the word out. “Or maybe poutine? I havn’ had pout’ne ‘n forever!” You smiled, then leaned back on the bed, still half-sitting. “Man, ev’rything sounds good.”

This time, Steve let himself laugh a little. “How about we get you feeling better, and then I will get you everything on that list, ok?”

“’Kay. ‘M gonna keep a list, trust me.”

“I believe you.” He felt the slow roll of nausea go through his stomach. “You ok?”

“Yea… maybe ‘s not best for me t’ eat right now, anyway.”

“No, probably not.” It was quiet for a moment before Steve spoke again. “You scared the hell out of me, you know?”

“’M sorry.” You closed your eyes as you spoke. You sat like that through another roll of nausea, and then met his gaze. “There was a family there.”

“I know, I heard. Bucky told me.” He clarified when you looked confused. “But you could’ve been hurt so much worse. You got lucky.” You hummed in agreement. “Just promise me you’ll be more careful next time, ok? ‘Cause I know there will be a next time, I know that. I just… don’t want to lose you.”

You reached out and touched his hand, your skin cool compared to his, and the action instantly calmed his nerves. “I promise, Steve.”

“Thank you.” He took your hand to his lips, placing a quick kiss over your exposed fingers.

“’Nd be nice t’ Bucky, ‘kay? ‘S not his fault, he wasn’t close enough to stop me.”

Steve didn’t say anything, he just kissed your hand again. He had already heard as much when he gave Bucky a panic-driven earful about having let you get hurt.

“Huh.” You drew your hand from his slowly, examining it. “That feels better.”

“Like kisses from me that much, huh?” He joked.

“No… I mean, yes, but…” You trailed off, picking at the gauze wrapped around your hand to remove it.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“’T doesn’t feel like it hurts anymore.”

“That could just be the morphine.”

You took the bandages off anyway and, sure enough, there was not a scratch on your hand. Just two large pink lines – one across your palm, and one just above the wrist – that looked like new skin. Like a cut that had healed over.

“What’d you do?”

His brows knitted together again. “Nothing, I just kissed you.” He stared hard at your hand. He’s experienced second-hand effects from morphine through you before, but it had never made him see things. He probably wasn’t, but he didn’t know how to believe what he was seeing.

He decided to test it, taking your arm again and pulling back the bandage that was over your forearm. There was a deep gash through skin and muscle there, the edges jagged. The skin around it was still red from the wound being cleaned. You flinched at the action, and he felt the dull ache shoot up his own arm. “Sorry. I just want to see something.” He placed a kiss there, careful not to kiss over the cut itself.

He watched with wide eyes as the wound started knitting itself together in front of him. The sensation in his own arm was odd, a weird mix of unpleasant movement of muscle and relief from the lessened pain. He stopped anyway, though, looking to you.

“Woah.” You were transfixed, looking to the way the cut had already partially healed. “I didn’ know ‘t worked like that.”

“Neither did I.” He thought back to all of the times either of you had returned from missions. Steve healed so quickly that he would never have noticed a difference if he kissed you and an injury healed right away. You, though, didn’t get injured often – at least not like this – and you had always had little cuts and bruises fade quickly. He had never made the connection to him before now.

He removed the rest of the bandages from that arm, then, peppering it with kisses as he went. You hummed as he worked his way up to the shoulder, and then to the one on your neck. He could feel the cuts and wounds healing over his own body, the ache lessening slightly.

“You know…” You said slowly as he sat up, looking between you and the heartrate monitor that just spiked. “I ’ve some injuries that are lower, too.”

“Your ribs, you mean?” He looked to your torso then back up to you, shaking his head. “The gown might be in the way for that-“

“No, no. Lower.” You were grinning, the look in your eyes finally making him process what you were saying.

“Y/N!” The look on your face turned to amusement as he felt the blush creep up his neck and to his face. “We’re in a public hospital!”

“’n a private room ‘n a hospital,” you teased.

“And you’re injured, that’s surely not the time.”

“But your kisses ‘re clearly magical,” you were smiling, but patting his hand. “Fine, fine, I c’n wait. But no ‘firmary when I get there, ‘kay?”

A nervous chuckle made its way through his lips as there was a knock on the door, and then Bucky entered. His cheeks were flaming. Of course it had to be Bucky. He would have heard all of that.

“Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt.” He gave Steve the look before giving you a once over. “All the paperwork’s done. Sam’s getting the jet ready, but we’re clear to get you out of here.”

“Than’ god,” you sighed.

A nurse walked in behind him, listing off instructions as she started taking off all of your connections to the monitors. Steve rose and backed away, letting her remove the IV from your arm. He let out a breath, looking forward to when the morphine finally wore off in your system so he could think more clearly.

“Your clothes are right over there,” the nurse said. “A little privacy while we get her dressed, boys?”

“I’ll wait in the hall,” Bucky answered with one more pointed smirk at Steve.

“Steve’s fine t’ be here.” You told her before turning to him. “Ya don’ need to be so ‘mbarassed, Steve. He’s heard worse, ‘m sure.” You said as the nurse helped you stand.

That did nothing but make him blush harder.

Steve helped along with the nurse as you got dressed back into your clothes.

“Go ahead and sit while I get you a wheelchair, and then you will be all set.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Steve responded as he lifted you easily, carefully shifting you into a comfortable position to not hurt you further. He was at least grateful that the morphine would dull this. It was better than you trying to walk on your own since he knew you would have adamantly refused the wheelchair anyway/

“My hero,” You said jokingly as he carried you bridal-style through the door.

He chuckled. “Let’s get you home.”

“Home and not t’ the ‘nfirmary, right?” You winked at him.

He sighed, fighting the urge to run and hide from Bucky, who was walking ahead of you and now chuckling to himself. “No, doll. No infirmary.” As uncomfortable as other people overhearing that was, internally he was also very excited to test this theory that kisses between soulmates could heal.

#the cards have spoken #steve rogers x reader #writing

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