Summary: Peter gets an asthma attack + this isn’t my best work cause i can’t write science well so pls excuse me tyy
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Peter Rogers bit into a piece of chocolate he found on the kitchen table, happily munching upon it while his papa, Steve went to use the bathroom, promising to be right back. The four year old had just gotten home from a particularly long day of school, and was more than happy to be home where he could relax with his favorite person in the entire world. 

And the four year old was hungry, and chocolate always seemed to look like a good snack. So, there he was munching on the chocolate snack. He had just swallowed his fifth bite when his mouth and throat felt fuzzy and his chest began to constrict, creating a sharp pain as the boy found it harder to breathe.  Confused, the boy continued to eat, and immediately regretted doing so. He burst into a fit of hacks as he suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous at the same time. He choked out through his tightening airways, “Papa!” 

Steve heard the urgent call and quickly scrambled to find his son coughing uncontrollably and cheeks turning red. He frowned, that’s not good. He approached Peter, thumping his back, trying to figure out what was the cause of the boy’s cough. Then, he heard Peter wheeze. Which meant that Peter wasn’t choking, but having an asthma attack. But from what?

He guided Peter onto his chest, instructing softly, “Peter, honey, can you take a deep breath for me?” He eyed the chocolate in the boy’s hand, and as he inspected it he noticed nuts. Peter was deathly allergic to nuts. Shit.

Peter stuttered as his face contorted in pain, “Papa, can’t.”

Steve diverted all his attention back to his son, holding the boy upright coaxing, “That’s alright, I’ll help you, okay? Don’t worry, you have to stay calm through? Remember?” 

Peter forced himself to nod, just managed to whisper, “Dizzy Papa. Like the teacups. Don’t like it.” 

Steve nodded understandingly, “I know bud, focus on me.” He clasped one of Peter’s hand and placed it over his chest as he exaggerated his breathing, “Can you follow me?” He dramatized an inhale and exhale a few times, in hopes that Peter would be able to follow. 

Peter winced sharply, voice beginning to fill with panic as he continued to cough, “Papa, can’t!” He whimpered, trying to remember what his doctor told him the last time he had a panic attack; he needed to stay calm, but it was hard too with all the hurt inside his chest. 

Steve understood that, consoling as he picked up the still-coughing child and rummaging for his coat and shoes, “Hey, bud, you’re okay. Can you try and take a deep breath in and out for me while I find your shoes?” He hoped his tone was calm and reassuring, because the last thing the worried father needed was for his son to panic more. 

Peter, words stuck in his clogged throat nodded and tried to do as his papa instructed, letting his eyes flutter close for a few moments. His throat ached and felt so dry, and Peter longed for water but with the tightening in his throat knew that it wouldn’t be easy. He attempted to swallow and soothe his coughing, which only escalated because of that, causing him to latch onto Steve tighter as his papa grabbed the toddler’s inhaler. 

Steve murmured as he slipped the inhaler in his pocket, “I know it hurts bud, I know. I’m sorry, Papa’s going to make it better, I promise you. Okay bear?” He made sure that Peter was all bundled and snug as he bolted out of the house straight to the hospital while whispering soft reassurances in Peter’s ears, “You’re going to be okay, I promise. I’m here.”

The run to the hospital wasn’t very long, but with all of Peter’s wheezing it felt a whole lot longer. Steve was beyond grateful when he got inside the hospital calling out, “He needs help! He can’t breathe!” His pleas were immediately answered with a team of doctors approaching them, instructing him to have Peter sit upright on a gurney. 

The doctors began to all talk at once, which only furthered the boy’s panic. Peter, who was beyond terrified at this point, more so with his hate for hospitals felt tears leak his eyes as he leeched himself onto Steve’s much larger arm, choking out as he buried his head there, “Wanna stay with papa!” 

Steve felt his sleeve turn wet, and found Peter sniffling into him, eyes blown wide in terror. Steve tightened his hold on Peter, indirectly letting the crying boy that his papa wasn’t going anywhere. The father spoke softly as he stroked the side of Peter’s face, “Sweetheart, I know this is scary, but I’m going to stay right here the whole time with you.” He wiped Peter’s tear-stained cheeks speaking in his classic reassuring papa bear tone, “Bud, you’ve been so brave, I need you to be brave for a little longer, alright?” 

Peter nodded, not loosening his iron grip on his papa’s hands. 

Steve smiled fondly, “That’s my bear. I know you can do it.” He sat by Peter’s sides as doctors wheeled the two of them into a room, urgently asking Steve what triggered the attack and how long Peter has been in that state, and stuff along those lines when they had finally wheeled Peter into a room and began to hook him to a nebuliazer. 

Peter was beyond wheezing at this point, and his lips were beginning to turn a faint blue tightly latched his much smaller hand around his dad’s, utterly terrified of what was to happen next. Steve looked down at his scared son and used his free hand to rub soft circles onto Peter’s back, “Bud, remember what we said about being calm? You’re doing so good, just a little bit longer, alright?”

The head doctor, a woman sensed Peter’s distraught spoke softly as she wore a comforting smile, “I know all this stuff seems scary, but it’s just a machine, like a washing machine. I’m going to hold this to your mouth and you’re going to try and take a nice deep breath for me, and exhale after five seconds and then do it again, alright? You keep holding dad’s hand, alright?” 

Peter nodded with a cough as the doctor placed the gaseous medicine to his mouth and did as followed, squeezing Steve’s hand tightly as the doctor counted to five, and Peter felt the pain in his throat lessen up, which he interpreted as a good thing.

The doctor spoke, “Good job, can you do that again?” She and Steve kept Peter grounded while the other doctors checked Peter’s vitals, making sure that everything else was a-okay. Once Peter was able to efficiently stabilize his breathing, Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized that he was holding. 

Peter continued to breathe normally until the cloginess and hurt was gone, and once he was able to breathe again, he collapsed against Steve’s side, utterly exhausted from the day’s ordeal. 

Steve ruffled Peter’s hair, pressing a firm kiss to the top of the latter’s head, “You did so good, bud. You were so brave, I’m proud of you.” 

The doctor concluded as she let Peter pick from a bunch of Finding Nemo stickers, “I checked over his previous medical records, that was some attack, so we’re going to keep him here overnight, just to make sure that he’s okay. I can write a note to excuse him for school tomorrow if necessary.  We’ll clear him to leave tomorrow.”

Steve nodded, “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

The doctor nodded and left the two Rogers to their privacy. 

Exhausted, Peter spoke lowly as he leaned against one of the pillows provided, “‘m sorry.” 

Steve turned to look down at the bundle leaning against his chest, “Bud, what on Earth do you have to be sorry for?” 

The four year old cast his eyes down to the white sheets and blanket, “If I didn’t eat the chocolate, this never would’ve happened.” He buried his worn head further into Steve’s chest, trying to muffle his sniffles, “It’s all my fault.” 

Steve looked down as he rubbed Peter’s back, “Sweetheart, it’s not your fault. I know it was scary, but next time we just got to pay more attention to what happens, alright? And I promise I’ll help you with that. You didn’t know, if anything I should’ve noticed that it had nuts and not left it where you could’ve easily grabbed it.” He looked over at the yawning toddler, “I’m the one who should be sorry.” 

Peter shook his head mimicking his papa, “‘s not your fault.” 

Steve replied, “Well it’s not yours either, so there’s the end of that. As for you little mister, you should get some rest, you’ve had a long day.” 

The toddler inquired as he snuggled closer to his dad, “You’re gonna stay with me right?” 

Steve nodded with a genuine smile as he pulled the covers over the two of them, “Of course. Forever and always. Now get some rest bud, I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

A/N: it's been forever my dudes. Was gonna post yesterday but it was my birthday so I was lazy. Also, weird story today. So I kinda have a crush on this dude in my class, but also not really cause I didn't really know him and hes not someone that I would want to date, not that I can anyways cause I'm Muslim. So, I'm like ninety percent over him, but he doesn't know that I like him, but he's like super flirtatious with like everyone but like not totally. (yknow what I'm saying? Like he's not bad bad but like meh bad.) Anyways we're still good friends. And he has a gf so there's that. Anyhow, so we're in acting class, and we were assigned roles to read from a script. So I was cast as his daughter, and there's a line where I say, "papa, i thought I was your girl, I don't want to get married!" So the context was obvious, fathers often refer to their daughters like that, yadda yadda. So he showed me the line before it was time for me to say it and whispered to me and I quote, "say daddy instead." I went oop. I did not say daddy cause that's dumb but like -

Also, I think my acting teacher ships me and one of my friends. We're like causal friends, not someone I'd sit at lunch with, but we joke and have decent conversation during class. He always pairs me and him up for roles that involve romance/marriage. Want proof? In September, I was cast as his wife in labor, last month cast as his wife who was mentally ill, and just now cast as his future wife/crush.