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creative-caramel-coffee · 9 months

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Stomach Struggles

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.7K

Summary: R struggles while her girls are away, chronic stomach aches are no fun and r just wants her girls

TW: anxiety, stomach ache, slight angst, crying, vulnerability, vomiting

|| PART 2 ||

Stomach aches were the bane of your existence. They hurt and they made you sick almost every single time without fail.

So when you woke up on the day you and Wanda had finally scheduled a date for the first time in months and felt like you were going to spending the day with your head in the toilet you couldn’t help the tears that fell. Wanda and Nat were still on their mission and should be getting back at around four this afternoon.

You put all of your energy into rolling over, gazing at your phone screen and unplugging it you blearily looked at the time. You couldn’t help the few extra tears that fell, 4:30am. No wonder it was still dark and you hadn’t heard your alarm. It wasn’t going to go off for another two hours. You knew there was no going back to sleep now. The pain was too much but you couldn’t find it in you to find some pain medicine that your girls had stashed somewhere in the bathroom.

Deciding there was no point being sad about something you couldn’t change you began to sift through the bedside table’s draw. You were sure you had hidden som stuff in there incase you got sick in the night.

The chronic stomach aches hit whenever so it was good to be prepared. And you knew Wanda had restocked the stash before she left. Nat had made a big fuss with fury about leaving you all alone for a few days. Worried they wouldn’t be there if you needed them.

You were sad when they left but it was nothing on how much you missed them now. Now when you needed them most.

Your finger wrapped around what you were looking for. Pulling out the small container of your emergency supplies your sleepy fingers fumbled with the small lid before it finally came off with a small pop. You checked what was there. Gratefully and teary eyed as you knew Wanda had taken extra care this time, you pulled out the small note. Written in her loopy script it said how much they loved you and how if you needed anything from the box at all you were to call them and tell them. Wanda signed it with a kiss of her red lipstick on the note. Your fingers brushed over the print and another few tears fell. Carefully you folded the note and placed it on the bedside.

Reaching into the box you found a small packet of pain meds and sobbed in relief. Carefully you took the right dose and put them on the bedside beside the note. With shaking hands you pulled out on the sickbags from the small pile of them in the bottom of the box. You knew it was better to have it ready if you need it than not.

Looking in the rest of the box there were three more things. A bottle of pepto bismol which you turned your nose up at. Another bottle of water and a small pack of crackers. And lastly a small stuffed plushie of a frog. You rolled your eyes but pulled it out and hugged it to your chest. Burying your face in the soft fuzzy fur, it smelt like Wanda and you let another few tears fall.

Turning to the bedside and placing the box on the ground you picked up your phone. Wanda had said to call them if you needed them. But would they get in trouble? With the plushie still under one arm you hesitated before tapping her contact. Was it too early to call them?

The line trilled once, twice, three times and then Wanda picked up

“Y/n?” Her sleepy voice came through the line and you choked back another sob but it didn’t work as a small noise came out. That seemed to wake Wanda up.

“Baby?” She asked sounding more alert. “Are you ok my sweet?”

“Where’s natty?” You asked sounding small and vulnerable you dodged the question.

“Shes here sleeping beside me. Baby are you ok?” She repeated, “did you have a nightmare my love?” She asked with a soft voice.

“N-no.” You hated that your voice shook and let out another small sob.

“Is it your tummy baby girl?” Wanda asked now waking up nat who would be mad if she missed a chance to talk to you. Nat grumbled and threw a hand over her eyes. Wanda nudged her side and covered the phone receiver.

“Its Y/n/n she doesn’t feel good.” Wanda said and nat sat bolt upright. Taking the phone from Wanda.

“Y/n? Are you ok my love?” She said her voice slightly sleepy but still alert.

“N-natty?” You asked.

“Yes baby I’m here.” She cooed.

“H-hurts.” You said.

“Oh baby where does it hurt my love?” Wanda asked and you realised you were on speaker.

“S-stomach a-and head.” You muttered brokenly. You heard shuffling on the other side.

“W-wands whats g-going on a-are you guys o-ok?” You asked.

“We’re fine baby natty’s packing the bags, the missions basically over they can send a relief team, our girl needs us fury can shove it u-“

“Baby lets go. Ill call fury on the way.” nat cut her off making you giggle.

“N-no i-i-ill be ok. Y-you don’t need to come b-back.” Wanda frowned.

“Baby we want to make sure your ok. You don’t have to do it all by yourself anymore sweets natty and i are here now.” She said frowning deeper as your didn’t respond.

You wanted to, you really did. You wanted to tell her how much you owed her and nat but the nausea peaked, and you found yourself leaning forward and dropping the phone as you clumsily pulled the sickbag under you chin and gaged.

“Baby?” Wanda’s voice came through the phone that was where in the sheets.

Nat was by her side and mimicked the sentiment.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” She said sounding urgent. All they were met with were the sounds of you being sick as you threw up into the sick bag.

If they weren’t worried before they were now.

“Oh sweetheart.” Wands cooed. “Its ok. Your ok” she hushed knowing how much you hated being sick.

“Baby we’ll be there soon ok? Stay on the phone with us.” You merely sobbed in response as you gagged again into the bag. Your tiny whimpers broke Nat’s heart.

“Screw this.” Nat said and Wanda raised an eyebrow “I’m calling tony to send us a jet it’ll be way faster.” Wanda nodded and return her attention to you.

“Crap baby my phones gonna die. We haven’t been able to charge them. I want you to keep track of how often your sick and natty and i will be home soon. I lov-“ the phone cut out and the beep told you the line was dead.

You sobbed and stood on shaky legs to dispose of the sickbag. Your head swam and you sat back down.

“Bad idea” you muttered and put the gross bag into the small bin by the bed, unable to full get rid of it.

Pulling the sheets up exhaustion hit and you tried to go back to sleep. After tossing and turning for about a half hour the nausea was back again. You quickly pulled out another bag and threw up again. After another few bouts of dry heaving you were throwing up again. With you head in the bag you didn’t see the door open. Unaware of another presence in the room until a warm hand was rubbing circles on your back. You flinched away and dry heaved again through the sobs.

“Oh baby its ok we’re here now.” You felt the bed dip on either-side and almost cried as you realised they were here. They were back.

When you were done you carefully set the bag in the bin and nat raised an eyebrow at the sickbags in the bin, as you threw yourself into their arms.

“Oof” nat said and wrapped her arms around you anyway.

“Oh baby it’s ok” Wanda said taking you from nat and rocking you back and forth in her arms. “How many times my sweet.”

With a small voice you replied “two.” Wanda sucked a breath in.

“And why are they still here?” Nat said looking at the sickbags and earning a glare from Wanda who was also curious.

“Couldn’t get up. Lightheaded. Thought was gonna pass out” you said snuggling into Wanda’s chest and missing the two girls exchanged worried looks.

“Baby are you feeling anything else? Do you feel warm at all?” She said pulling you back slightly and laying a hand on your forehead. You had your eyes closed but hummed at the skin to skin contact.

“Does she?” Nat asked

“No. She feels fine.” Wanda said and you snuggled back into her.

“Let’s just hope it what it normally is and nothing more or we’ll have to see Bruce.” Nat said standing up and taking the bin away to dispose of them properly.

“Baby have you had anything since you were sick?” You shook your head against Wanda’s neck and she sighed. Pulling you close she swung her legs onto the bed and positioned herself against the headboard with you still in her lap. She picked up the pepto ignoring your whines she made you take it followed by pain meds.

“You did so well my sweet.” She said as you gaged at the taste. “Shh shh shh.” She said ready with the sick bag. Luckily you weren’t sick this time and so she pulled you close again and hummed a soft tune.

“Go to sleep baby I’ll be here when you wake up. Natty and i will take care of you now sleep bubs.”

And you did.

A/N Anyone want a part 2? Imma write a part 2 anyways…

MASTERLIST

#marvel #the avengers #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha romanov #sicfic #wanda marvel #natasha romaoff #wandanat comfort #wandanat x reader #sick reader #marvel comfort #hurt/comfort #comfort fic #reader is sick #vomiting #throw up #sickness #puke

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justadeadreaper · 4 months

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CW: Gore, Death, Puke, Decaying flesh, Buboes, Blood, Description of the symptoms of the different plagues in The Black Death, Gruesome description of how the representation would look like, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

The most feared plague in history, The Black Death.

Mainly the bubonic plague mixed with its two more deadly brothers the pneumonic plague and septicemic plague. It was the deadliest plague of the time as it ran through Europe, Africa, and Asia and conquered any village, town, and city it found itself in, flooding the streets with blood, mucus, and rotted flesh as once healthy humans dropped dead from the plague that seemed to come from nowhere before it dragged everyone to the Hell it had seemed to have spawned from. It did not care who you were, it did not discriminate, rich or poor, loved or hated, known or not, it would blow out the little life that you had. It thrived off the fear and only seemed to grow stronger as another soul joined the long chain of victims that had already succumbed to the disease. Anywhere from twenty to sixty percent of the population of the time was taken by it.

The perpetrator? Yersinia pestis. The carriers? Fleas. The spreader? Rats but some say it could have actually been hamsters that were stowaways. But how were the rats able to spread? Trading ships that jumped from town to town leaving a deadly gift as it sailed away that would lead to the death of all that were unfortunate enough to live there.

Now you may ask what would happen if you were to catch it and let me tell you it was living torture. It would start with a simple flea bite but that flea was infected with Yersinia pestis causing it to build a barrier in its stomach so no blood could be digested or go into its stomach causing it to build up and be infected by the bacteria, and this blood would be thrown back up by the flea onto the wound infecting it as it would be absorbed into the bloodstream. From entering the bloodstream it could take one of three routes: the lymphatic system, continuing through the bloodstream, or directly to the lungs. If you were lucky enough for it to infect your lymphatic system then you had a sixty percent chance of dying meaning you had a forty percent chance of surviving. Even though you had more chances of surviving it did not mean that you were saved from not suffering, from one to seven, or if you were lucky eight, days of contracting the disease was when it would show symptoms. At first it would trick you into the false belief that you only had the flu. You would have a general feeling of being ill, lethargic and weak which only grew into worse fatigue as the days went on, followed by chills and a high fever which anyone would know just seems to be like a normal cold but then that soon developed into muscle cramps in your aching limbs as seizures overtook the body. Then it would present the symptom that gave it the name the bubonic plague, buboes. These were when the lymph nodes would balloon to become large, painful, smoothe swellings which would occur near the original area of infection alongside the groin, neck, and armpits which would continue to grow until they burst. You also had the issue of your skin slowly beginning to necrotise as it died alongside the lenticulae which were small black dots that would be scattered across your body and gangrene took over your lips, nose, toes, and fingers which all caused severe pain to the point you would rather die there and then instead of waiting it out to see if you had the lucky chance of surviving. Of course there were other symptoms like heavy breathing as your lungs felt like they were being held down by rocks, your own body becoming like the flea as it would start to vomit gallons of infected blood, coughing, gastrointestinal problems, and spleen inflammation, but in some cases even the sleep would be disturbed to the point of insomnia where sleep would be impossible to get as your were forced to stay awake to feel all the pain that riddled your body. But then the worst of the systems came at the final stage as delirium came and took over any rational thought as all organs began to fail from the disease overcoming them and causing them to shut down which only led to a coma, but it all ended the same way, death.

If you were unlucky enough for it to infect your lungs first or just infect your lungs before the other systems became worse then you had a ninety-five percent chance of dying meaning you had a five percent chance of surviving. To make the pneumonic plague even worse you could develop it even after being infected by either the bubonic plague or the septicemic plague; it could also be caught from not just it infecting your lungs after a bite which infected the bloodstream but by also breathing in air borne droplets of the bacteria from another thing that was riddled with the plague. As it would normally be caught after having bubonic or septicemic plague it meant that at first you would present all the symptoms from the other plagues before experiencing the specifics of the pneumonic plague. At first you would think you have a fever but a severe one as headaches, nausea, and weakness run rampant as if it was trying to warn you that this would be no normal bubonic or septicemic plague. Luckily compared to the bubonic plague the time you would suffer with this plague was a great short, even though it would take around three to seven days before the symptoms showed as soon as the symptoms worsened or even showed you could guarantee that you would be dead within thirty-six hours, most likely less. You would be constantly vomiting for three days straight as your lungs slowly began to feel as if they were being sewn shut at each bronchus, only leading to each breath becoming shorter and shorter as you seemed to constantly be coughing and rasping for the tiniest bit of unrestrained air. Then soon enough your lungs would spew out a bloody and watery mess that would stain your tongue with its mercury taste which you would continue to cough out in between the vomiting until you went into shock as your full respiratory tract went into failure and just stopped, finally leading to death.

But if you were the most unfortunate person alive on Earth at the time that every God seemed to hate since it stayed in your bloodstream and completely infected your blood it meant you had no chance of surviving as you had a hundred percent chance of dying. It made the other two diseases seem like child’s play as it normally only took around fourteen hours before it shut down the body, worse of all it could even kill you without showing any of the symptoms. Like the others you would think it was a common cold due to the fever, chills, and low blood pressure but soon enough severe abdominal pain would set in as it felt like you were dying due to the extreme amount of diarrhea which would be accompanied by nausea that only led to severe vomiting. But soon enough the vomit and diarrhea would be filled with blood until it was fully red as the body lost most of its clotting resources from the tiny blood clots that had formed throughout the body so it could no longer control the blood which started to bleed into the skin and organs creating red or black patches of rashes or bumps which could be seen on the skin. The blood clotting also caused necrosis as tissue and organs would die from the lack of blood flow as it all leaked into where it should not, the most obvious spots of the decay were the gangrene in the fingers, nose, and toes. Then the bleeding would extend from not just bleeding in the body but blood coming out from the rectum but most noticeably the mouth and nose where it would come out like a waterfall. Obviously due to the blood leaking into everything it would cause difficulty breathing as it would fill the lungs and deprive it of the blood outside the lungs that was needed to exchange the carbon dioxide for oxygen. And with no blood to deliver the oxygen needed for the organs to live they all would go into organ failure causing the body to go into shock before the final moments where everything went back as it was taken over by death.

As it can be seen all of them had the same outcome, death.

Luckily nowadays the plagues are a simple pest if the person has access to treatment to stop it from progressing further but at the time that The Black Death ran rampant no one had the luxury of those treatments leading most to die who caught it. Masses upon masses of bodies continued to build up only attracting more of the rats then the ones that had already been attracted to the large towns by the excrement and rotting butcher’s meat that made a river through the streets. With more rats that withered away from the disease it just meant more fleas would jump to more human hosts to use which only led to more living corpses to roam the streets as the disease turned people into skeletons while still living before turning them into an actual corpse.

It was understandable as to why humans of the time would be so scared of such a thing as to them it just seemed like their fellow mortals were dropping like lowly flies that would eat away at the flyblown flesh that continued to pile away in mass graves to create more nests for their larvae and eggs to incubate inside. Imagine the terror and fear that must have filled their minds as they did not understand pathogens at the time, to them it would have seemed like divine wrath but no one could think of a reason as to why their Almighty would betray them like this as everyone appeared to be on their best behaviour. They needed something to blame. They found something to blame.

Simple rumours turned into truths.

Somewhere in England there was said to be a village. Small, nothing of concern as it was like every other village of the time. Like every other village it had a butcher, a silent man who was rumoured to once be a knight but no one knew why he was not anymore. He tended to be quiet, avoiding others who were not his friends and family. It was said that he loved his nephew and that if he had enough swigs of barley that you could get him singing and dancing on the roof or you could convince him to give you his primest cuts of meat. He was deemed as normal, he was like everyone else, until one day.

No one knew what happened. It was supposed to be a joyous day to celebrate the coming of winter but it was far from that. Nearly the whole family was found butchered with a precision only expected to be known by a trained killer. The lower left leg and most of the fingers of the right hand of the older brother laid in a puddle of blood but they could not find the rest of his body; the mutilated body of the brother’s wife was spread around slightly from each different part as if when she was being attacked the culprit had went after another member while still holding onto the part it was hacking off; the body of their son was curled into the corner clutching onto the leg of his mother while out of the stab holes that covered his body in ten folds nearly making him unidentifiable oozed out blood into a bloody puddle that collected around his body; and finally the grandmother of the family who was found decapitated in her rocking chair with her head being found outside within the well. The only one not found dead was the butcher and when he returned, covered in blood, everyone turned their suspicions to him. When he tried to explain that he had been out hunting but had been attacked by a large grey man no one believed him, especially when they saw the crazed look within his eyes that could only be produced by when they had let Beelzebub into their soul. Everyone agreed to grab their pitchforks and chase him out so no more could be hurt.

It was only a few months before the figure started to appear across the world. People from the village murmured to other villages and beyond when they heard what the figure looked like in its earlier stage that they believed it to be the same butcher infected with the plague of Beelzebub to infect the world with their sin to bring more to Hell. Everyone believed him to be the reason for the spread of the plague. It was said that if you were to see him within the fields outside of any town, village, or city that all the inside were destined to die.

The Ghost of The Black Death.

A figure that would strike the fear into the hearts of all.

A horde of rats followed behind him in trails as flies buzzed around his head, if he was near you would always see a Black Shuck which commanded a storm alongside it as if they were his hounds of doom brought along to give the townsfolk warning of their dire fates and to pray to the Almighty while they were still apart.

A black coat hid the majority of his body as bloodied rags of old hunting gear of a peasant hung off of skeletal remains with a jaw hanging off his neck as if it was a necklace as it was tied there with rope. Messy blonde hair spread out in all directions as blood leaked out from the tear ducts in a false mockery of the tears that millions had split in their last moments. No nose or bottom jaw could be found, decayed off long ago. The face looked skeletal as teeth, gums, and a tongue were exposed to the bitter air that reeked of death and loss as the cheeks were tattered in form as more skin continued to flake off as it continued to decays; once blue eyes so full of life were left sunken, dead as if they were another victim that had succumb to the plague that the Ghost was said to bring alongside him. A trail of buboes surrounded his neck as if it was a noose to which he could hang himself with as the tail was marked by a diversion of buboes that wrapped around and under his arms to around his groyne. His spine and ribs jutted out for all to see underneath the greyed skin which was littered with blackened patches of decay as branches of red veins leaked and bleed out to leave a path of blood in his wake for all to track him by. Still, as he rotted away, vague faints of the muscular body that had been far gone from its prime lingered where it once remained. The bottom of his calves with his feet and the bottom of his forearms with his hands had turned black and mummified from the decay and gangrene that had taken them over, leaving no remaining sensations within the hands to feel the warmth of a human ever again for the rest of eternity.

If you were to see him late at night, staring into your soul you better pray that The Ghost does not turn you into another soul like him.

#plague!cod au #plague simon #plague ghost #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #cw: gore #cw: death #cw: sickness #cw: puke #cw: decay #bubonic plague #the black death

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