It’s Gonna Be Okay

Avengers x Teen!reader

All characters besides Y/n belong to Marvel. I don’t own any of them.

Y/n = your name Y/f/m = your favorite movie

You woke up from a long night of trying to stay awake and finish your homework. You procrastinated and decided to watch your favorite comfort show and doodle in your bed. Your  probable social anxiety had been particularly bad that day, as you had accidentally zoned out during class. Your teacher had called on you and you panicked, having no idea what she said or what you were supposed to do. After that you couldn’t stop thinking about it for the whole day. Each time intrusive thoughts filled your head. I’m so stupid. Everyone else can function normally in social situations, why can’t I? Everyone must hate me; how could they not? You over analyze every flinch of the arm, every twitch of your hand, and every slight glimpse at you.

They, the Avengers, would kill you if they found out how little sleep you got last night. You groan when you see the time and the books scattered around your room. You’re going to be so late. Instead of getting out of bed your eyes close, against your will, and you drift off back to sleep.

The next thing you know your clock says it’s 7:00 am; your school starts at 7:15. You jump out of bed and throw on your school uniform. You don’t even tie your tie; instead looping it around your neck and hoping it doesn’t fall off. You throw all of your books, notes, and binders into your bag.

 You scramble of your room at a mad dash, passing Tony, who drops some sort of contraption he’s working on. Before you can stop you trip over the object and fly through the air, landing on the floor with a loud grunt. Your ankle is absolutely killing you, but you get up and start running, or rather limping, to the kitchen. You can’t be late. You can’t walk into the class when everyone is sitting down.

Tony rushed after you, appearing in the kitchen, seeing a concerned Nat and Clint eating breakfast and watching you dig for your keys in one of the drawers in the kitchen. Wanda came out from her room, alarmed by the noise. 

“Y/n, wait!” Tony says. You pause, leaning on the door frame with the keys to your Jeep in your hand. You try to hide the grimace on your face.

You give an annoyed sigh. “What is it, Tony? I’m going to be late for school!” 

Wanda walks up to you and puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. “It’s Saturday, honey. You don’t have school,” she tells you in a soft, comforting voice. 

Clint comes up behind you, placing a hand on your back. He gives you a small smile.

“Why don’t we go and sit down, Y/n,” Clint says in a concerned voice. You move towards the sofa with Clint and Wanda guiding you. You hope they don’t notice you’re limping.

About halfway there Bucky, who came into the room when you were about to leave, scoops you up into his arms. “You shouldn’t be walking on that foot, doll. And don’t try to disguise it, I could see it from a mile away,” he says, setting you down on the sofa. He takes your bag and puts it on the table, just out of your reach.

Clint sits down near your feet and Wanda next to your head. You lean into her, exhausted. Clint starts to take off your right shoe. You suck in a deep breath, the pain radiating through your body. Wanda wraps her arms around you, rubbing your hand that she holds, knowing that it’s going to hurt. “Just tell me to stop if it gets too much, okay n/n?” Clint asks. You nod and brace yourself. Clint starts to feel your ankle.

At first he starts up high and it doesn’t hurt much, but eventually he makes his way down and you start to bite your lip. You flinch a little, but try to keep the pain inside. The only thing that escapes is a small whimper and a small tear making its way down your cheek.

 You close your eyes and try to zone out.

“What a stupid kid”, Wanda tells the others, “They hurt themselves by tripping on something.” Clint joins the conversation: “They even forgot the day,” he says. Better yet, they can’t even tell us about their mental struggles, or why they can’t sleep at night,” Natasha retorts. “They’re such a joke,” Bucky says. The Avengers start cackling. Each finger pointed at you makes you want to shrink even more. “Y/n, come on, wake up,” Bruce says. Your eyes close.

The light is blinding as you open your eyes. After a few seconds you can make out Bruce standing over you. You’re in the medbay. “Hey, Y/n. Glad to see you wake up,” he says. You rub your eyes and let out a small yawn. Clint and Wanda come into the room. “Hey kid,” Clint says. He gives you a small smile. You try to sit up, but Wanda gently pushes you back down. “What happened?” you ask as Bruce leaves the room.

Clint rubbed the back of his head. “You passed out on the sofa. It freaked us out,” you bite your lip at his words. Bucky comes in through the door, giving you a soft smile and carrying some of your clothes, plus one of Wanda’s sweatshirts. “Hey doll. Thought you might want to change into something a bit more comfortable,” he says. He hands you the clothes and you realize that you’re in a hospital gown. No wonder you were a little chilly.

Before Wanda can stop you, you swing your legs off the bed and stand up. Immediately, you fall over. Before you hit the ground Bucky catches you. Pain shoots up your leg. As Bucky sets you back down on the bed, you realize that your leg is in a cast. Panic seizes in your chest. How long had you been out for?

Wanda notices your panic. “You just sprained your ankle, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay,” she says, her voice like honey on a raw throat. “Just don’t put any weight on it; Bruce will be back with your crutches soon,” Wanda says. She climbs onto the bed with you, slowly stroking your hair. Subconsciously, you lean into her.

When Bruce walks back into the room he’s faithfully carrying your crutches. He sets them down, out of your reach, knowing you’ll try to get out of bed.

 “Y/n, how much sleep did you get last night?” Bruce asks, eyeing your dark circles. You look down at your hands, fidgeting with a small ring on your finger. You don’t want to answer honestly, but you know Wanda could easily extract the truth.

 “I think I got 3 hours? I was up studying and doing homework, and I just couldn’t fall asleep with all of the flashbacks. It’s stupid, I should just stop…” you finish, you're breathing faster now, an effect of the anxiety you’re feeling.

 Clint takes your hands and crouches down next to you. He rubs soothing circles on the tops of your hands, noticing your nerves. “What flashbacks?” he asks in a soothing tone, not wanting to upset you. You hesitate, unsure of what to say. “You know when you do something embarrassing, or you just completely over analyze every single social situation, replaying it in your head, finding flaws that the small, rational part of your brain knows don’t exist. How you mess up eye contact, when everyone else can do it. Those are the flashbacks. Some of them are from over ten years ago, but I just can’t shake them. After that I’m just stuck planning the next day’s social situations, trying to find a way to not embarrass myself all over again…” When you finish you bite your lip and look up at Clint.

He just keeps rubbing circles on your hands and tries to make sense of what you said. He understands having flashbacks, but not the ones you have. He thought you might have ones from missions, or maybe the alien creatures that you guys fight together. He wouldn’t have thought social situations haunted you. Sure, you were clearly uncomfortable, but the Avengers just thought you were shy.

Bruce clears his throat, dragging everyone from their worries. He looks rather uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on him. “Y/n, have you researched social anxiety?” he says, looking into your eyes. Immediately you look away from him. Before you can answer, Wanda does it for you. “They have, and they think they have it. They also think they’re touch starved,” she says, reading your mind. You swallow, waiting for everyone’s reaction, wishing that you could’ve had a chance to lie.

For a minute everyone is silent, then Bucky speaks up. “It’s okay, doll. We all struggle with something mentally; you can come to us when you aren’t feeling great” he says, moving to sit on the other side of you, wrapping his arms around you. You lean into his embrace, resting your head against the crook of his neck. Clint shifts so that he’s sitting on the bed, holding your hands the entire time. You can’t remember the last time someone even gave you a hug, so the sudden love feels overwhelming, but welcome. So, so welcome.

After a while you notice Tony and Steve coming in. Everyone sits up, aware of their presence. “Hey, Y/n. Heard about what happened,” Steve says, giving you a sad smile. “We’re always gonna be here for you, okay?” he makes sure you know he means it, holding his blue eyes to yours, making sure you don’t break eye contact until his message gets through.

 Tony speaks up, “I scheduled an appointment with a mental health professional, kid. You’re not backing out of this one. Not again,” he said sternly, making a reference to the time he made appointments for everyone on the team;  you skipped out. To be fair, so had almost everyone else.

Before you could react, Tony had whipped out a permanent red marker and signed his name in big, bold letters. 

“Oh my god, Tony! I was going to be the first to sign Y/n’s cast!” you hear Nat exclaim as she comes through the door. Everyone laughed at that. Before she uncapped her marker she came over to you, and ruffled your hair, whispering to you that you could always crash with her when you needed some comfort in the night. Then, she drew a little spider and signed her name on top of Tony’s.

 After that everyone signed your cast, Steve even drew a little doodle of you and him in your suits getting ready to fight. It was too cute. You declared it your favorite. Who knew Capsicle was so good at art?

After a few minutes you started to get tired. You reached for your crutches. Before you hurt yourself trying to reach them, Wanda grabbed them for you and helped you change in the bathroom. Once you were done you felt a lot more comfortable. Your sweatshirt and shorts were your favorite thing to wear when you needed to relax.

You were about to sit back down on the bed, but Steve picked you up. He carried you bridal style out the door. Clint had your crutches and Wanda went off to the kitchen with Nat, ready to make you some kind of delicious Sokovian food. Once you, Steve, and Clint were in the elevator, the doors shut. Clint started to hum a tune you could faintly recognise as an old Christmas song. “Do you want to watch a movie N/n?” Steve asks you.

You smile. “Only if I get to pick,” you say, smiling cheekily. You had just the movie in mind, Y/f/m. Tony claimed that he hated it, which made it even better. He won’t admit it, but you saw him wiping his eyes at one point the last time you watched it. He claimed that he got dust in his eye, but you saw the part he was at before quickly shutting off the TV.

The elevator’s doors opened, and Steve carried you out, Clint following next to you. The three of you headed into your room. Steve set you on your bed and Clint placed your crutches beside you. After a minute of them finding blankets and helping you prop your foot up with pillows, they sat down on the other side of the queen-sized bed.

Clint sighed. “Are you sure that you’re okay? There’s nothing else, mentally or physically?” You hesitate for a minute, unsure of what to say.

You decide to go with the semi-truth. “I think I’m alright,” you say, putting on a small smile that feels genuine this time.

Clint and Steve share a look. The Look. Steve gives a small nod. “We’ll discuss this later, now’s for movies and food,” he says, grabbing the remote and handing it to you, leaving you to find your favorite movie. After a few minutes Nat and Wanda come into the room, bearing some kind of delicious pastry-like thing. You wolf it down, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. Things are going to be different, but you know that you’ll have them by your side, literally, as Wanda and you snuggle into each other.