Sick Days (Peter Maximoff X Reader)

mythwritessometimes:

Word Count: 988
Rating: PG, Fluff
Warnings: none
Prompt: your father is Steve Rogers, your boyfriend is Peter Maximoff + belly button kisses!
Suggested by @abitlyon !
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You had gotten an awful cold, your were getting body chills, everything was sore and you had already gone through two boxes of kleenex.

And so here you were, sitting alone on a couch staring blankly at the television surrounded by tissues and a variety of comfort foods. Growling, you chucked a tissue at the filled trash bin, missing and watching it fall to the floor. You wrapped the blanket tighter around your body and sniffed, burying your face within the warmth of the blanket.

Your father pitied you, allowing you to skip school until you felt better. Earlier in the day he had gone to get some groceries to make your favorite dinner. Your father took it rather seriously when you got sick. Bless his soul, you thought.

Over the week, you hadn’t bothered to reply or return any texts and calls you had gotten from your friends. Of course, a few had stopped by, worried about your wellbeing. Though, they had been shooed away from your home, your father just telling them you that you were sick and needed as much sleep as possible. For now, you were fine with moping around the house by yourself—well, as “fine” as you could be, at least.

You scoffed at the television, watching as the young woman in the show awoke from her coma. You weren’t one for reality dramas, but you didn’t have the energy to get up and grab the remote.

Grabbing the bag of chocolate that rested at your feet, you quickly unwrapped a piece and popped the sweet cocoa in your mouth, sighing as it melted on your tongue. Sniffing, you held it tight to your chest like a child holding a teddy bear.

“Oh, Hershey’s, you’re the only kiss I’ll ever need.” Though, your sweet embrace with the chocolate came to an end as there was a loud knock at the door. You popped another kiss in your mouth, figuring it was just the mailman delivering a package. That assumption soon disappeared as the annoying knocks kept coming. Groaning, you buried your head underneath a pillow to drown out the sound. “Go away.” You muttered into the pillow, satisfied when the knocking seized. You sighed in relief, but suddenly jumped as another knock came to the door; it was louder than the rest.

“Y/N Open up, it’s your boyfriend~ You know you want to let me in!” Shaking your head, you quickly paused the show and stood, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around yourself as you shuffled to the door. Unlocking it, you cracked the door open slightly, only enough so you could look out and see Peter on your porch. “Well, hello to you too, sunshine.”

“Peter…I’m not in the mood right now. I feel terrible.” You groaned. Rolling his eyes, Peter leaned against the door frame, forcing you to open the door a few inches more.

“I’m hurt Y/N. Truly hurt that you don’t want to see your own boyfriend.” He teased with a smirk. Sighing, you opened it fully, wincing as the cold air hit your cheeks. You stumbled slightly as he made his way in. Knowing now that there was no way to get him to leave, you just locked the entrance and shuffled back over to the couch, plopping down on the cushion with a grunt.

Peter scrunched his face at the sight of the dark living room—the lights were dimmed so the television provided the most light within the room. Tissues and food wrappers were scattered around, most of them gathered around the rim of the trash bin. He assumed you were all too lazy to just get up and throw them away from yourself. Although, he couldn’t blame you. He remembered how you were when he went to pick you up from the market that day; your makeup was running and tears stained your cheeks. In an effort to comfort you, he stayed by your side as you cried for hours into his basketball jacket. You were an absolute mess. Though you were slightly better now, it was evident you were still in ruins. Your hair was tangled and greasy, your lips chapped and eyes an ugly shade of red. Your clothes were wrinkled and bags had formed underneath your eyes as you hadn’t been sleeping well.

Shaking his head, he smiled and held up a paper bag in one hand and a cup in another. “I grabbed you some fast food.” Tossing the grease stained paper bag next to you, Peter handed you the cup. It was cold. You stared down at it and looked back up to him. “It’s a vanilla shake.” He stated with a grin. Setting the cup down, you shook your head and curled up into a ball, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Sorry, I’m not hungry.” You heard a sigh as the couch’s weight shifted slightly. Suddenly feeling guilty, you quickly added in, “I’ll pay you back for the food.” Hearing a chuckle, you looked up as your eyes locked with his dark brown ones. “You can pay me back by getting better, it gotten lonely as Xavier’s and my beds been empty.”  he pouted before he flopped against you, pushing you back down onto the couch. you let out an ‘oompf’ and looked down to see Peter looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Peter now is not the time, i have a fev-.” a chill when up your spine as you felt Peters cold hands against the hot skin on your midsection. Peter had to stop himself from giggling as he pushed up you shirt and began to lightly kiss from the bottom of your ribs down to your navel. You covered your face and coughed between giggles as Peter stopped, resting his head on your stomach, he sighed contentedly. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Peter.”