#chronically ill reader

[lfnr-blog-blog-blog]

Snövit

Pairing | Bucky x disabled reader (College AU) They/Them Pronouns. Non descriptive.

Warnings | Heavy and frequent medical conversations, explanations, and procedures. Chronically ill reader. John Walker, Brock Rumlow (they are a warning okay. I hate them) Angst, Fluff, some curse words, fluff. Protective Misguided Bucky. Reader is an ambulatory wheelchair user. Needles, Seizures, mentions of vomiting/puking.

Summary | You are just trying to live your life, and your wicked stepfather wants you gone.

Word Count| ~7K

A/N | This fic was inspired by the Fairy Tale of Snow White, however it is ambiguous. Some information you may need: A port-a-cath ("Port") is a type of central line, most famously known in cancer patients, it is "accessed" by placing a needle in the little hub. The walker reader uses is a Walker/Rollator, it has wheels and a little seat, making it more user friendly for people who cannot stand for long periods of time. Please reach out if you have any questions, I would be more than happy to answer them anytime. Thank you to my betas: @buckayyyebitches and @offcast-plus1. And everyone who helped bounce ideas and keep me on track. Readers nickname is Flame as that is what they call their Radio DJ Persona.

“The homework is due Monday.” Dr. Pierce finishes up as you snap your notebook shut, you grab your bag from the back of your chair, rushing to pack up for the basketball game you’ll be working tonight, when you hear your name. You turn around to see your step father behind you, “Yes Alexander?” He throws your most recent essay in your lap, “71 percent, 71 measly percent. Your mother has entrusted me to make sure that you make it through this degree, even with all of your *issues* and you cannot even get more than a ‘C’ on a paper for Political Science.” You go to defend yourself when Steve pipes up from across the room, “Come on Flame, we gotta go. Call is in twenty, and you know how Stark and Potts get if we are late.” Grabbing the push bars on your wheelchair you follow Steve out of the room, heading across campus to the college television station.

Brock re-enters the room after Rogers and Barnes exit with Flame. Joining Pierce at his desk, “Well what are we going to do about that?” Brock asks, motioning towards the trio moving across campus in the windows. “I am not sure, Rumlow, but I am sure that Rogers is protecting them from me.” Pierce slides an envelope across the desk, Rumlow picking it up, hearing the rattling of the contents. “It needs to be done soon. They are amassing too much, too much status, too much money, too much protection, Stark and Potts are petitioning against me with the Dean. I need them gone, and that is your job here.”

Bucky steps ahead of you and Steve, “Pierces’ lecture today sucked, huh Stevie?” Buck says, turning around to look at you. “Well Flame, when can we expect the next paper to be due since you know everything?” “Buck! Fuck if I know, you and I both know that he wouldn’t give me a leg up even if I was in the ICU in a coma.” You tease, passing the admin building. “Now move or get run over, you know the drill.” Activating the power assist on your chair, needing it for the slight uphill slope from the admin building to the student center where the cafeteria, gym, and broadcasting compound are housed. Steve catches the door for you. “We still have about 15 minutes until call, do you want to grab some lunch really quick? Today is going to be a long day behind the boards.” You nod, heading towards the cafeteria.

“Eeyyyyy, Flame, they have your favorite soup.” Bucky calls out across the room, while you scour the salad bar looking for something that actually sounds good with your nausea. “Yasssss,” you call out heading over to where they have the soup, making yourself a to-go bowl, grabbing a protein shake, and a sports drink. Between the soup, the drinks, and the IV fluids in your Port-a-cath today should be a good day. “So Steve, who do you think Pepper will have direct today- me or you? Everyone else is first years’, and it is championship weekend.” Steve thinks for a moment, “I am sure we will both have a chance. We have two games tonight, four games tomorrow, and the final game on Sunday afternoon, and we are the only two cleared for game directing. Besides, Stark will have Rhodey or Nate in the Control Studio all weekend, so I am sure that if you need a break you can get it. You know your accommodations mean you don’t need to be in the control room for every game.” You nod along, as he picks up his food, Bucky is behind him, everyone heading for checkout. After checking out you move out of the way, when Bucky grabs your drinks from your hand, zipping them in your bag in one fell swoop, Steve grabbing your soup and putting it on his to-go container. “Both of you knock it off, my hands work. I can put stuff away on my own.” You jibe at the pains’ in your ass. “But why would we let you do that when we can do it and make you all flustered.” Bucky teases back. “I’m gonna toss a freezer meal in that silly crockpot you bought Flame, you guys will want a home cooked meal. Brock and a few of the other guys from Criminal Law are coming over, so we can get ready for the test next week. But I am kicking them out, when you guys get home. Wanda and Nat are having a med study group in the basement and will be done at 9. Oh Doll, don't forget you need to get a home nurse out to do your weekly assessment tomorrow morning, before you leave for the games.” You roll your eyes, he is such a mother hen. “Yes Buck, I know. I already called Melyssa. She will be out at 8, so Stevie and I can leave for first call at 9.” You start rolling away before he can start worrying about how much time you are spending working this weekend, headed to the first of many games you’ll be working.

“Looks like you are up first, Flame.'' Steve says looking at the call sheet, seeing what first years have been assigned to us for today. The two of you being the only upperclassmen in the program, after 90 percent of the program failed out in your second year, all because of a drug test. Pepper and Tony have strict rules for the students who represent them in the community, one of them being a zero tolerance policy for drug use. The first years being the only reason that we can even run games and other station events. You eat your soup quickly and then, clean your hands to administer your afternoon nausea and routine medications through your IV; in your small office-like space that Pepper had set up for you when you first needed accommodations, taking an under used recording studio, adding a couch, desk, fridge, microwave, and station, where you could store foods, and supplies. Steve laying out on the couch, eating his burger and fries, “Steve if you get fry sauce on my couch I will murder you after this weekend is over!'' You warn in jest, you and all your friends hang out in this room when you are in this building, allowing you the space to stretch out, get out of your wheelchair in a controlled environment, do homework in quiet and have a safe and sterile station to take care of any medical needs. He laughs at your statement. “You know I would never spill in here. Pepper would kill me and take away my access pass. Hey out of curiosity, what did you get on your Poly Sci essay?” “A 71, he seemed pissed, I am going to look at it and see the justification. What did you get?” You respond, cracking open your drink. “I got a 92. What is his issue? You literally worked your ass off on that essay, you had more research than me or Buck, and it was well within the word limit. Why does your stepfather hate you?” Chuckling, you retorted. “You know why he hates me Cap,” teasing at his on-air persona, “I am my mothers child, and he only married her for the money. The only reason I decided to go to school here is this Journalism program, otherwise I would have gotten the hell outta dodge, my mom doesn’t care if I go here or not, it is well under the budget that I’ve been allotted for schooling. And he is the only one who teaches Poly Sci, so it’s not like I can just drop the class and get a different professor next semester, and we have to have it to graduate, so I will take the C, we all know I am pulling straight A’s in my other classes.” He nods, the alarm on your phone going off, warning you that it is time to meet the rest of the crew and go over your expectations for this game. You join the crew in the call room, not noticing Steve checking his phone - a text from Bucky.

Buck-I am going to surprise them with flowers tonight, if they need to leave early let me know.- Steve-wait what?!?!? Pierce said months ago, that anyone being with Flame, and they would be cut off by their mom.-

Buck- well about that, Flames’ mom was at the tower just now dropping off some paperwork and asked about why Flame never talks about me, especially after everything with them getting diagnosed and all the shit that is happening now. And I told her what Pierce said, and get this- Flame was never in danger of being cut off.-

Steve -fucking asshole Pierce, making you stay away.Something about that smells fishy, he doesnt even like Flame. you heard him today right? -

Buck- yea. I did. also said that Pierce has been trying to get Flame to go out with Brock-

Steve- Fuck, keep him away from their room. I don’t like that. Brock is the campus asshole. Good luck. Flame will love it. I know they miss you.-

Finishing up assigning cameras, graphics, and studio support to the first years before you call out to Steve. “Alright, if you have any issues shoot a text to Cap here. He will be around to jump in as needed. Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark will be looking in on us today too, so let’s show them we deserve to be here. Game starts in 45, so go get set up.” You finish your speech, heading to the control studio with Steve and the crew needed for that room. The camera crews grab their gear and head to the Gym. Your phone buzzes, checking the messages. A few from your mom, but checking the one from Bucky.

Bucky-hey, if you need, let me know and I can come get you early if the second game is too much ☺️- Rolling your eyes at the text you fire back.

Flame- yes mother 🙄😉😂💕

A subtle hint that you know what you are doing, this is your 3rd semester of dealing with your health issues, and you have a pretty good system down. Christmas break of your freshman year, a virus that wouldn’t quit, your body becoming overtaxed and sending you into Autonomic Nervous System failure, a whole host of problems joining the group. You never knew that you had some underlying conditions prior to the virus that sent your whole body haywire, making the nervous system failure so easily attainable. Bucky never left your side all those months of trying to figure out why you were passing out 16 times a day and now, it seems like he can’t even look at you, apparently the wheelchair, daily IV Fluids, home nursing, and a short ticking clock of life, are making you unappealing, undateable. It took nearly a year to get all the diagnoses’ and then a few months later Bucky backed off, everything settling in. And now, 3 months later he only says something if he doesn’t hear Steve or Nat ask about it or talking about shallow things. Meals, classwork, and chores at the tower. Getting comfortable in the control studio, you put your phone away. Prepping for how the rest of the night is going to be, Nate as your technical director, you calling out the shots and him putting them up. “Alright folks, let’s do this. Ready camera 1.” a small pause “Take 1, lets get those score graphics up, take Graphics.” The rest of the game continues, you getting into the zone, proving why you are the best student director in the program. “Ready 3….. Take 3. Walker, I need you to focus, something is going on with your camera.” Your team wins 3 points ahead of the competition, sending you to the next round. “Ready logo, Take logo. Good job folks, you’ve got 45 minutes to eat and be in your assigned positions for the next game. Walker, come see me.”

You roll back from your spot at the desk, stretching your neck and popping your fingers, head pounding under the lights, nausea flaring. The studio empties as Walker comes in. “Hey John, what is going on? You were all over the place. You never do that when Cap is directing.” Walker rubs his hand down his face. “Ya know Flame, I am not quite sure that you are one to talk,” motioning to your chair, “you missed a few games this season.'' You stand, not willing to take this sitting down. “John, everyone has off days, but you were disrespecting me on the headsets, you cannot do that. Don’t let it happen again or I will be talking to Potts, and if you insinuate what I think you are saying again, I will go to the Dean and have you suspended up for discrimation.” John slams his hand to your chest, pushing you back in the chair, kicking your bag with the IV pump and supplies. “You will not be talking to anyone. I am more talented than you and I will not be taking orders from a worthless lump!” Walker storms out of the studio, knocking shoulders with Steve on his way out. Wiping the tears out of your eyes, Steve asks. “What is up with John, he seems a bit off today.” You shake your head, “I am not sure Steve, we can talk about it after this weekend is over. Wanna go get a drink?” Steve nods and you head to the cafe, making small talk about the game and the ones to follow. “What did you think Stevie? Did I do okay?” Your chest starts to ache, slowing down a little as the pain gets more aggressive by the second.

“That was really good Flame. I sat with Tony and Pepper for a little bit, and they were impressed. How are you feeling, how's your heart rate?” You continue down the hall vision going a little fuzzy. “Honestly Steve, I am pretty beat, but we still have another.” Your IV pump in your bag blaring, interrupting your sentence. An excuse to stick around and help through Steve’s game, even if just with tech support or chilling with Pepper, helping with tips for future games. You roll to the side of the hall, checking your port-a-cath in your chest, seeing the line filled with blood. Heart racing, black spots joining your fuzzy eyes. “Steve, help!” You murmur, attempting to grab the backpack off the back of your wheelchair. He brings the bag around to you, kneeling in front of you and placing a hand on your knee to ground you to him. The blaring of your IV pump stops as you stop the infusion, no pressure in the bag, as you notice the IV fluids leaking through a hole in the bag. Your head spinning, watch going off, warning your heart rate is going extremely wrong, your vision cuts to black as you pass out. Steve catches you as you lean forward, nearly coming out of your wheelchair. He puts your backpack back on the wheelchair, grabbing the emergency strap and hooking it around your chest so he can move you back to your safe room, ;pulling his phone out and calling Bucky. “Hey punk, what’s up, how’d the first game go?” Bucky says as he picks up. “Buck you gotta come get Flame. Bring Nat or Wanda.” Steve rushes out then hangs up the phone. Opening the door to your day room, moving you as gently as possible to the couch so you can stabilize. Bucky rushes down to the basement living room in the Tower, entirely forgetting his study group, bursting through the door. “Nat, Wanda, something is wrong with Flame, we gotta go get ‘em.” Both of the women excuse themselves, everyone on this campus knows you, hosting the most popular radio show, being the campus mom most of the time, no one ever complains if you need help. Bucky grabs the spare keys to your mobility SUV, he will drive it back and Steve will take the truck back after the games are over. The five minute ride from the Tower to the Student center parking lot is the longest five minutes in recent memory for him. Steve is struggling to get you to wake up just as Bucky sprints in the door, Nat and Wanda closely behind him. Nat takes charge, checking all of the equipment and your vitals. You wake up after a few minutes, all of them watching you breathe. “Hey guys, sorry about that. I think I just got some negative pressure, and it just messed with my nervous system. I am good to go back to the control studio as soon as I get unhooked and get the bag figured out.” You go to sit up and Nat stops you. “You’ll be going back to the tower with Bucky, Wanda and me. You need to stay in bed for a while.” Bucky and Wanda nodding behind her.

“That is unless you want me to call Melyssa and get her out tonight, and no more work for the rest of the weekend!” Bucky pipes up, forcing a groan out of you. “You know I have no problems going straight to Potts to get you to use your accommodation. Doll, you have to rest! The doctor told you about that - you can’t overdo it.” You grumble out: “Fine! Take me back to the tower.”

Brock watches Bucky leave, excusing himself to use the bathroom. Sneaking into the room with the little flames all over it, Flame written in big bold letters. Sneaking around the room, adding small cameras to watch the room, adding other cameras to the rest of the house. Making a mental map of all the exits, and the overall layout of the tower.

Bucky lifts you from the couch and into your wheelchair, helping you get buckled in, arranging everything around you. You barely have the energy to lift your head, let alone fight him on letting you do it yourself. “Come on, Doll. Let's go home.” Wheeling you out to the SUV, and taking you home. Checking your smart watch, noticing your heart rate is through the roof again, 160 and rising, your autonomic nervous system failure going into a flare. Groaning to yourself, you know that this weekend will not be spent working games, it will likely end in a trip to the Emergency Room or a hospital admission, or if you are really lucky, just spent miserable in bed. Bucky pulls up to your home, The Tower, a 5 story townhome bought by your mom when your college housing no longer worked. It is fully accessible, giving you the luxury of having a home while also having your friends close and being near campus. Nat and Wanda were the first two to move in, both bringing their boyfriends - Clint and Vision, and then Steve and Bucky joined you . Getting everything unloaded from the car and heading straight for the elevator, going to your room to get into bed. Rolling in the door to your room, a gasp escapes your lips, a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on your desk, along with a basket of safe to eat snacks, and a new blanket. Pulling the note out of the basket, “Doll, turn around.” Bucky says, and you turn, facing him. “I like you Doll. I know some things happened that I am not proud of, but I want to be in your life as more than just a roommate, or the weird friend of your partner for class. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine.” Tears welling in your eyes, you pull yourself into his arms, letting him hold you up. “Bucky, I want to be yours, but we have some things we need to talk about. You just up and ignored me for months, I thought we were going somewhere.” He nods, letting you know he hears you. “Your stepfather told me that if you started dating anyone, your mom would cut you off. You would lose everything, the tower, your schooling, healthcare. I couldn’t do that to you, but it was not true.” Your head starts spinning, standing for too long, your heart racing. “Um Buck. I need to sit.” Your legs buckling out from under you, Bucky catches you, moving you over to the bed to sit down. You quickly set to work on getting yourself ready for bed, fixing a new bag of IV fluids on the IV pole, pushing your medications, setting an alarm for 7:30 when the nurse is supposed to come in. Kicking Bucky out, you change and then set up your bed for the night, hooking up the bag of IV fluids and then let him back in once you get settled. “Bucky, do you wanna watch a movie with me?” You offered, patting the bed next to you and turning on an old favorite while falling asleep hand in hand.

You wake up to Steve shaking Bucky awake. “Yes Steve?” You ask rolling over to face him. “Hey Flame, it's almost time for the nurse to be here. Did you want to get up, or do you just want me to send her in here?” Sitting the bed up slowly, head spinning. “Can you send her in here? And let Pepper know I’ll be using my accomodation for the first game. I am going to try and get to the second game.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, Flame. I want you to ask the nurse if she thinks that is a good idea, and Bucky is going to stay with you and make sure you don’t try and weasel your way out of it.” Bucky rolls over again, looking at Steve. “I got this punk, go eat or whatever it is you do at this ungodly hour.” The clock shows quarter to 8, giving you fifteen minutes until the nurse arrives. Nausea hits you more and more every minute. “Hey Buck?” You ask after a few minutes. “Can you go grab me a bottle of water and some crackers from the kitchen?” Kicking him out of the room so you can puke in peace, heading to your ensuite, taking care of your stomach and then, splashing some water on your face. “Hey Doll, I am back, are you okay?” He calls out next to the door. “The nurse is here, just come out when you are ready, okay?” You can hear the nurse grabbing supplies from your medical closet, knowing she is laying them out on the bedside table, getting ready to put a new needle in your port, draw labs, and get you all set up for the week ahead. Heading out of the bathroom, you see Bucky, watching every move the nurse makes. “Hey Melyssa.” You nod, head continuing to spin, slowly working your way over to the bed to lay back down. “Hey Flame. Steve and Bucky caught me up downstairs about last night. Let’s see how you are looking, okay?” She works quickly, getting your blood pressure (not great), heart rate (extremely high), and temperature (luckily normal). She cleans your skin and gets everything sterile ready to poke your skin. After getting all of the labs pulled and starts a bag of fluids to free flow while she does some paperwork; you lay back down trying to keep yourself from passing out. “Hey Melyssa do you think I could go work the rest of the games this weekend?” You ask, feeling guilty for leaving Steve on the busiest weekend of the semester. “No, I really don’t think that is a great idea. You are struggling not to pass out just sitting up, your chest is bruised and I have no clue how that happened,” Bucky growls at that. “And I would like to see what your labs look like so I can get a hold of your doctor. Right now you are running the risk of sepsis from the bag issue yesterday. So no you may not go to work the rest of the games. You need to stay in bed, rest, hydrate, and take your rescue medications. I will be in again tomorrow to check on you.” She gathers her bag and leaves the room, Bucky following her out. You pull your phone out, sending mass texts out to everyone about what she said, and send Steve and Pepper an apology, excusing yourself from the games today, hoping and praying that you will make it to Sunday’s final game. Stealing Bucky’s sweatshirt from the nightstand, putting it on and curling into it more and more. Bucky comes back in, holding a sports drink and his backpack. “Hey Doll, you look cute in my hoodies. I brought you something to drink and got some more instructions from the nurse. Lets keep you out of the ER this weekend okay?” You nod, cracking open the drink and nesting into your bed, adjusting it to sit up a little bit to watch tv. “Did you want to sit with me or sit at the desk to work on your homework Buck?” He comes over to the bed, kissing you on the forehead. “I’ll work at the desk, you get some rest. Steve and I will be having the Crim Law students over tomorrow after the final game, just so you know.” You curl in a little more head starting to pound, a yawn over taking you. “Go to sleep love, I will be here.” The day moves on, you napping on and off and someone is always there when you wake, movies playing quietly in the background, medications given and snacks. Around 2 Bucky

wakes you, bringing in a plate of safe foods, feeding you and checking on you.

Rumlow sits next to Walker, taking a sip of his coffee. “So I overheard you talking to Lemar about the little altercation you got in with Flame. I could use some help.” Walker nods, writing his phone number down and sliding it to Rumlow. “Call me.” Walker gets up, walking away. Rumlow sees his opportunity, use Walker to get Rogers, Barnes and Co. away from Flame, allowing him to take care of his job from Pierce.

The day continues much of the same, getting up, passing out, Bucky worrying, taking medications, and working slowly on the few homework assignments you had to do over the weekend. Starting with Pierce’s Poly Sci, pulling up the civil case and starting to read it with Bucky. Taking notes, pulling information from the case to put in the mini essay. “Hey Buck. Can we take a break? I need to eat something.” He nods, coming over to the bed, pulling you into his arms. “Wanna go get something, or we can order take out or I can make us something really quick.” You think for a minute, when Steve comes in the door, “Hey how did the day go? Sorry I wasn’t in.” You say to Steve, “We were just deciding what to do for dinner, do you want to join us for some take out?” He nods, sitting on the arm chair. “Sure, Nat and Wanda are out with Clint and Vision, celebrating Vision's new job with Banner, assisting in the medical sciences teaching department.” Steve and Bucky decide on Chinese ordering you your favorite meal and having it delivered to the Tower, you and Bucky cuddling on your bed and Steve chilling in the arm chair, watching an action movie. You excuse yourself to your bathroom, checking your phone, and get a text from an unknown number. -The Dean and I will be talking on Monday, you aren’t meeting the requirements of the program.- Instantly knowing it is from Walker you mute the number and head back to bed. Curling up to Bucky as Steve takes care of the leftovers. “Hey Doll, we gotta check your vitals again,” you groan at him. “Melyssa wants a record of them for the day, trying to see how you are doing.” Doing a final check for the night, you settle into bed, kicking Bucky and Steve out. Checking your phone again, seeing a barrage of texts from Walker, calling you every name in the book and becoming more and more unhinged with each ignored text. Tossing and Turning for hours you decide to sneak out for a little fresh air. You take your walker to the elevator, sitting on its little seat and rolling around the house, putting on a pair of flip flops, and opening the front door. Enjoying the cool breeze and the fresh air, you slip on your headphones and just gaze at the stars, watching them twinkle, you don’t notice him sneaking up on you, tipping your walker over with you sitting on it. Walker stands over you “You bitch, Stark wouldn’t let me do anything besides lackey all day, because he said I ‘don’t respect anyone or this program.’ This is your fault!” He spits in your direction, kicking the walker away from you as you gasp and struggle to get up. “People like you don’t deserve to be in this career field” he yells as he storms off. Struggling for air, the attack kick starts your fight or flight system that barely works, heart pounding in your chest. Finally, you get over to the walker and get it stood up to pull yourself off the ground as the sun starts to rise. Rushing inside as quickly as you dare, you shut and lock your door, sobbing into a pillow and trying not to puke, or wake the rest of the house, after you finally calm down you take off your (Bucky’s) hoodie and assess the damage, an open cut from hitting the ground on your arm, scrapes up your legs, and bruises starting to form, pulling on a tank top and some shorts, and curling into every blanket you own, you fall asleep with tears still in your eyes.

Bucky gets a late start, spending hours the night before working on homework, creating a study slide show for his crim law friends coming over later today. Making lunch and checking his texts, one pops in from Steve, -Just about finished with the game, Crim Law is coming in 45 minutes and I will be there in about an hour. Run to the store and grab some snacks and drinks, it is going to be a long evening. I haven’t studied at all.- Bucky grabs his sandwich and heads up to Flames room. “Hey I am going to the store, text if you need anything okay Doll?” You respond with a false strong: “Okay.” And listen for his footfalls to go away. You can barely move, having bruises on most parts of your body, chest aching, heart racing, unable to push any IV fluids or medications. Falling back into the fitful slumber you have been fighting all night. An hour or so later, you hear voices floating in the hallway, people in your home, doors slamming and food smells wafting up the stairs, you drop your head again and go back to sleep for a little while. Bucky answers the door, Melyssa coming in and heading up to your room, “Has she been okay today?” Bucky responds: “She was asleep every time I checked in on her, probably just really tired. I am gonna study, holler if you need anything.” Melyssa runs into Wanda and Nat on the stairs. “Join me up there?” She asks, knowing this visit may require extra hands. You wake to the three of them coming in the room, covered by blankets and heat blasting. “Hey Flame. Let's get some vitals and see what we can do to help you, okay? Blood is still processing, but your labs are all over the place. They are worried about an infection.” You groan at Melyssa while Nat gets you uncovered. The three of them gasp as they see the damage on your skin, Nat is down the stairs in just a few moments. “Everyone get the fuck out of the house. NOW.” The room of crim law majors clearing. “Steve, Bucky, up to Flame now!” Nobody notices Rumlow slipping into a guest bathroom and locking the door. Bucky takes the stairs three at a time, out of breath when he gets to the room Wanda and Melyssa, carefully maneuvering you so they can see and take pictures of every single scratch on your body. Wanda comes to Bucky and asks: “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!?!?! They were fine when I saw them last night.” Grabbing his shirt. “I swear to God if you hurt them I will kill you!I’m sure Vision and Clint will help me!” Bucky pushes Wanda aside. “They were fine when they kicked Steve and I out last night, and have been asleep every time I checked in.” Bucky comes over to you, taking your hand. “Doll, what happened? Who did this to you?” You cough a few times, voice breaking. “Walker…” Bucky’s metal arm clenches, plates gnashing together, machinery whirling.

Steve and Bucky launch into action right away.“We are going after him, he can not still be on this campus. Wanda get Vision to meet us, Nat call Clint and get him to talk to the other campus security personnel, we all heard that Walker attacked Flame. We need to find him and get some answers. Melyssa will you stay with them? I only trust you.” You continue to cough and barely understand the issue at hand. Bucky kisses you, heading to his room to put on some shoes. Steve, Nat and Wanda head to their own rooms to get everything they need and make some calls. Melyssa gets you cleaned up, reaccessing your port, and pushing the medications you missed. Sitting at the desk and charting all the issues at hand. Bucky and Steve come back in, promising to find Walker before the day is up, giving you small reassurances while you beg them to be safe. Rumlow hears vehicles starting in the driveway, and the doors slamming. He heads up to your room. “Hey, Melyssa right? Bucky asked me to sit with Flame. I am a friend from the crim law program. I can take over if you need.” He says, going to sit in the arm chair in your room. Taking out his phone and scrolling through, finding a number he is prepared to use. “Thanks I will still be here just a little bit, I want to make sure that this bag gets all finished and then set up another, they are pretty weak.'' Rumlow nods, sitting in silence, grabbing his laptop and ‘studying’. After about an hour or so Melyssa sets up the next bag of IV fluids, her phone ringing as she finishes. Taking the conversation out to the hallway, Rumlow can just barely hear her, stating she is just getting ready to leave, and that she will be there in a jiffy. “Hey, I need to go, I have another patient having issues. Can you watch Flame’s phone or let Bucky know, the last of their labs should be back in just a few hours.'' Rumlow puts on his best fake smile and charm. “Of course. I will stay until Barnes or Rogers return.” You continue to sleep, the hushed tones and pain meds keeping you lulled softly. Rumlow walks Melyssa to the door, locking the tower down and shutting off all the lights, making sure a window is open to sneak out of. Going back up to Flame’s room, searching through his backpack, finding the syringe that Pierce provided. Touching nothing but the syringe and injecting it into the bag of IV fluids, taking the syringe, taking a video of Flame twitching and seizing on the bed and leaving, heading to main campus to order food, watching from a window as Barnes and security escort Walker to a police car, a large bruise forming on his face, shirt torn.

Slamming the door shut in Walker's face, Bucky smiles, Steve giving him a disappointed look, “I just wanted to be you but better Steve.” Walker yells as they drive away. Bucky checks his phone, a text from Melyssa. -hey left flame had an emergency with another patient. Watch for a text from me later about labs.- Bucky rounds up the team and heads back to the vehicles, headed back to the Tower as quickly as possible. Walking into the tower and hearing glass shattering, Bucky runs up the stairs, finding you in your room, seizing, having pulled everything off the bedside table and on top of yourself, covered in glass and books surrounding you. He kneels next to you, seeing the blood on your forehead and then, Bucky hears something drop behind him, a sharp gasp, Wanda whipping out her phone and calling 911, Nat and Vision hitting the ground next to him, rolling Flame on their side, stopping the IV fluids, Steve rushing to the ground floor to open everything for the Medics when they arrive. “Bucky, I need you to step away, the medics will be here soon, and they need space to help Flame.” Wanda says to Bucky, pulling him away from your seizing body. “Can you find the nurse's binder to take with us, and grab them some of their favorite clothes?” The medics come in, assessing the situation, loading up your body and taking you to the nearest hospital.

Bucky sits in the waiting room for 6 hours, everyone taking turns sitting with him. Vision and Nat convince Dr. Banner to come over and take a look at the labs and scans. Steve and Bucky are talking quietly when Banner comes out, “The good news is they are alive, bad news is that their body has undergone a lot of trauma, there was experimental medication found in their bloodstream. When injected directly into the blood it causes seizures and brain damage, their body will heal, but right now I am not sure if they will wake up, we will have to continue to monitor their autonomic nervous system failure as well, because I am not sure how this will affect it.” Steve and Bucky just nod, Bucky with tears in his eyes. “We have gone ahead and placed them up in the ICU, they are in a coma, you can go up and visit whenever you are ready. The police will be coming to the house to search Flame’s room for the source of the toxic medication.” Banner walks out, leaving the boys shocked, Bucky crushes a metal travel cup in his hand. “Steve, this is all my fault! I left them. Somebody poisoned them. If they ever wake up how will they ever forgive me?” Bucky says with a sob. Steve reaches over to comfort him, pulling him in for a hug. “They won’t see it that way and you know it. Let’s go see your Doll.” The boys go up to the ICU, your still body, covered in tubes and wires, beeping of monitors, and the rise and fall of your chest forced by the ventilator you are on. Bucky grabs your hand, caressing the lines on your palm, kissing each pad, and knuckles, softly sobbing while Steve goes to find the rest of the group and inform them of what Banner said, giving you and Bucky some privacy. After a lot of guilt and yelling, the group finally goes back to the Tower, dragging Bucky along. The trend continues the next day, and the day after. Your friends are at your bedside when not in class, bringing their homework and dragging Bucky home at the end of the night. 3 weeks pass, Bucky sitting in the room, talking to you about his day, finals coming up. They are finally weaning you off the ventilator, meaning it's all on you to wake, the damage to your body healed, but your brain protecting itself. The nurses and Doctors say that talking to you is good, Steve tells you all about the games, how Walker got kicked out of the program. Wanda tells you all about how Vision, Banner and Nat have been working on a way to appeal to the FDA letting the medication be manufactured. Bucky, he tells you about everything, reading the cards you receive, the notes Steve and him have taken for you, and mostly how sorry he is. Another 2 weeks pass, the doctors saying that maybe you won't wake up. The doctors talk to your mom about options, withdrawing care, rehab, more tests. Bucky watches your mom sob, just hearing a soft “Withdraw care,” and storms into your room, “Doll, you have to wake up, you have to do it right now, I cannot live without you, I refuse. I need you, I need to be able to make up for everything that happened, the lies I told because of Pierce.” He kisses you, his last hope. “Wake up Doll, please! Do it for me, but if you can’t or don’t want to, just know that you were always it for me. My endgame, the spring to my winter, the love in my heart.” Dropping your hand and leaving the room, his goodbye was said. He goes to sit in the waiting room, while your mom says her goodbye, just waiting for the Doctor to confirm death. He and your mom sit vigil, the rest of the crew coming and going, sharing stories, giving you last goodbyes. A flurry of activity in the hallway by your room, when the doctor comes out, scrub cap in hand. “They-” Bucky’s heart stops, gasps fill the room, “Flame is asking for you Bucky.'' His head whips up, jumping out of his chair and sprinting to your room. There you are, eyes open, propped against the pillows, a weak smile on your face. “Hey Buck, I love you too. Thanks for being my Prince Charming.”

[thatguywrites]

Oscar Piastri and Lily Zneimer with Chronically Ill reader

This honestly applies to all chronic conditions, and I left it kinda vague lol

When you told Oscar and Lily that you had a chronic illness, you expected him to break up with you, like your past partner had

But instead they took you in their arms and told you they weren't scared of your illness

They always make sure that you take your meds

It's part of your nightly routine

Whenever you have to go to the hospital, or doctor, they'll always go with you if you want

For any long term hospital visits they make sure that at least one of them is with you at all times

Hospitals are stressful, no matter how many times you've been to them

And after every appointment they'll pull you into bed to talk about it

They'll hold you close whether it's good news or bad news

Whenever you can't travel, Lily will stay at home with you

The two of you send pictures of you cuddled in bed watching quali and the race to Oscar

He always gets kinda jealous

When you do come to a race Oscar makes sure that his drivers room is as comfortable as possible

There is a replica of your chronic illness cart, the most comfortable bed imaginable, and a fridge stocked with feel good and healthy foods

Whenever you can't get around, they'll put all their focus into you

Making sure you can reach your mobility aids, bringing you anything you need so you don't need to get up and use excess energy

Oscar loves carrying you in bridal carry around the flat

Lily has gotten into cooking meals that can easily be reheated for the days were you don't have energy, and are very nutrient dense

All the calculations are kinda like engineering to her

Every time you get anxious about your illness, they'll hold you close and re-promise that they'll never leave you

In sickness and in health, even if you guys aren't married yet

Taglist: (Comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl @spoonfulofmilo @lokisen @op-81-lvr-reblogs

[abriefnirvana]

We need more reader inserts with a chronically ill reader. That’s it. That’s the post.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Off Day Or Day Off

Summary: Reader has a bad day due to a chronic illness they struggle with (POTS). Luckily Lizzie and Scarlett look after her.

Tw: headache, mild pots, exhaustion / fatigue, pain medicine, mentions of passing out

Words: 2129

A/n sorry for such a long absence I got diagnosed with POTS so I have been in and out of the hospital for appointments for the past few weeks. So, this fic is kinda just me projecting. Also, POTS stands for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (for those who don’t know). Let me know if you want a part 2.

You knew today was going to be hard when you opened your eyes to see your alarm had already been going off for a good half hour.

Whilst not something that was unusual for you, it did pose some insight into how the rest of the day may go. Taking a deep breath, you gathered the strength to sit up, still feeling exhausted to your bones and wanting nothing more than to lay back down and keep sleeping.

Reaching out to smack the alarm in order to finally get it to shut up, it took a few tries to finally hit the button.

You were tired despite having slept over the recommended eight hours. You were tired when you woke up and you had no doubt you would be tired when you went to sleep.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed you braced yourself to stand up. Once on your feet you stayed upright for a good half a second before sitting back down hard.

Yep, today was an off day.

Trying again you managed to stick the landing this time, but still had to pause to wait for the patches in your vision to clear up first before doing anything.

You were vaguely aware of a dull ache in your temples and a general feeling of malaise and fatigue across your whole body.

You leant against the wall of your bedroom while pulling on some fresh pant and swapping out your pyjama shirt for a clean and presentable top.

You fought to stay upright while hopping around to stick the socks over your cold feet.

Throwing your notebook and pencil case into your backpack before pulling your laptop off the charge you added it to your bag and slung it over your shoulder, not bothering to do up the zip just yet.

Scanning the room your eyes caught on the small medical pouch were you had left it the day before. Groaning you circled back to grab it and triple check it was stocked with extra electrolyte packets before tossing it into your already full bag.

Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs as you plodded down to the kitchen, the voices of your little sister and mother only seeming to aggravate your growing headache.

You gripped the railing as you descended the stairs just in case your fatigue flared anymore than it already had.

As you shuffled into the kitchen you distantly listened to your mum wish you a good morning. Feeling tired and slightly annoyed at the whole situation you mumbled something incoherent back to her.

Scarlett had been your mother for almost ten years now after the adoption had gone through. You had met on the set for one of her earlier marvel films and due to your less-than-ideal situation and close bond with the actress she had adopted you.

It hadn’t been until a few months into living with her that she begun to take notice of your fatigue and various other issues. She had been with you every step of the process to get diagnosed and despite your fears she had stayed by your side.

You had been managing your tachycardia for a long time now and the symptoms of POTS weren’t as intense as they once were. However, from time to time you still had flare up which caused you a lot of heart ache and suffering.

As you slid into your place at the kitchen table Scarlett set down a plate of bacon and toast for you whilst she continued listening to the constant chatter stemming from your younger sister.

Scarlett nodded along with Rose’s story as she observed you closely. She had noted something was off almost straight away and knew you were doing your best to keep up a front.

It was Scarlett’s day off and as such she was tasked with taking Rose to school as Colin had headed into work early for a meeting with the writers.

You weren’t too interested in the food your mother had given you. Despite loving bacon and usually chomping it down with gusto you felt gross and tired.

Scarlett took note of your slow pace and droopy eyes as she took roses dishes back to the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher.

Scarlett had been trying to help you get better at advocating for yourself by simply making you ask for her help. She hoped it would help you speak up for yourself more now that you had more recognised needs. However, she also knew when to step in and simply help if you didn’t ask first.

She frowned at the sight of your backpack slung over the back of the chair knowing full well she didn’t want you going to uni if you were unwell.

As you continued to poke at your food with a fork and a bored expression that barely masked the exhaustion Scarlett sent rose to get dressed.

“Alright munchkin, what’s going on?” Scarlett said sitting down next to you.

“‘M fine mum. Just tired, I didn’t sleep well.” You grumbled still mining away at the edge of the slightly burnt toast with your fork.

Scarlett frowned as she knew you had been asleep before ten after she had poked her head in at around nine fifty to see if you were up.

“In that case maybe you should stay home today and get some rest sweetheart.” Scarlett said softly.

“No. No, I’m ok.” You said shaking your head which wasn’t a great idea as the patches reappeared in your vision.

“Alright.” Scarlett said admitting defeat for now. “I have to take rose to school; do you need a lift to uni?” She asked and you nodded pushing away the full plate of food. “Ok then come get your shoes on.”

You nodded again and stood. Just as she had expected Scarlett watched as you swayed on your feet slightly, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision as your hand blindly reached for the table to provide the support you needed dot stay upright.

“Alright. No.” Scarlett said. “Definitely not. You’re staying here sweet girl.”

“But i’m-“ you begun only to be cut off.

“If the next words out of your mouth are “I’m fine.” I’ll make you take the whole week off.” Scarlett said and your lips snapped shut. “Go make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll have lizzie come stay with you while I’m out. She has the day off too and before you start, I’m sure she would like to spend the time with you.” Scarlett said before you could protest hindering the younger actresses schedule with your change of plans.

Before you could protest Scarlett gave you a look that kept the words in your throat from leaving.

“You’re not a problem y/n. Lizzie loves to spend time with you, and it makes her feel better to be able to help you out. Plus, I don’t want to leave you here alone in case you need something or pass out.” She said sternly but kindly.

“But I haven’t passed out before.” You grumbled.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Scarlett said. “Now go get comfy while I call Lizzie.” She said pressing a kiss to your head and giving you a light shove in the direction of the living room.

As you settled into a small nest on the couch you begun scrolling through Disney plus before settling on something to watch. You heard Scarlett talking on the phone in the kitchen before she appeared and handed you a water bottle which no doubt was filled with electrolytes. She spoke to Lizzie for a bit longer before coming back once the call was done.

“Drink.” She instructed, nodding to the bottle in your lap. “Lizzie will be over soon. I have to take rose in and then we can have a movie day and see if Lizzie wants to join us.”

“Ok.” You mumbled feeling bad for ruining everyone’s plans.

“None of that. We love you and we would rather spend the day making you feel better than knowing you’re not ok and doing what we planned.” Scarlett said as she picked up roses backpack and grabbed her trainers from the doorway.

Rose came and hugged you goodbye before continuing her endless chatter about something or other as she and Scarlett disappeared out the doorway. Scarlett blowing you a kiss as she left.

Snuggling down into the blankets you felt your eyelids droop as the show played on in the background.

What couldn’t have been more than five minutes later the doorbell rang before the door opened. You knew Lizzie had a a key, but she always rung the doorbell before she let herself in just to let you know it was her.

You heard the door shut and the sound of her taking off her shoes before she came upstairs.

“Y/n?” She called out as she walked down the hallway.

“In here.” You said barely shouting.

A moment later Lizzie entered the room, her face looking a little sad at the sight of you all bundled up and sleepy, your arms wrapped around your water bottle as your eyes drifted shut.

“Hiii.” You mumbled quietly.

“Hi sweet girl. Oh, look at you, it’s not a good day, is it?” She asked as she took the seat beside you on the couch.

“No.” You huffed as you shuffled over into her side.

Lizzie’s hands went straight to your hair as she brushed her fingers through it. She guided your head to her lap and gently began braining locks of your hair. The feeling of her fingers on your scalp relaxed you as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Have some more to drink first baby, then you can have a nap, okay?” She said helping you sit up and sip some of the electrolyte drink before guiding you back to her lap as her hands took their place back in your hair.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again.

The next time you woke up Lizzie’s hand was still gently massaging your head which was helping with the now whopping headache you had. You shifted slightly prompting Lizzie to look down from the show she had put on and see you were awake.

“Hi sweetheart, how are we feeling love?” She asked softly.

“Headache, tired and lousy.” You mumbled turning your face into her stomach making her chuckle softly at your cuteness.

“That’s no good.” She said frowning now she registered your words. “Want me to get your mum to bring some Panadol and a snack?” She asked and you nodded into her stomach.

Lizzie gently reached down and placed her hands over your ears to shield you from the noise as she began calling out to Scarlett who you hadn’t noticed return.

“Scar car you bring y/n/n some Panadol and a snack!” She called and you faintly heard your mum’s response before Lizzie was prompting you to drink some more of the electrolyte drink in your water bottle.

“Sorry I know this wasn’t what you two wanted to do on ur day off” you said to both actresses when Scarlett came in with some cupcakes, she and rose had baked the day before and a strip of Panadol.

“Honey…” Lizzie said looking sad. “I’ll always be here when you need me.” She said softly.

“Yeah, I can’t get rid of you.” Scarlett joked making all three of you laugh.

When you winced at the noise Scarlett went straight to mum mode as she popped out two of the tablets and put them in your hand before nodding to the water bottle.

“Alright, what are we watching?” Scarlett asked situating herself on your other side and pulling your legs into her lap, so you were laid across the two of them.

“Whatever y/n/n wants.” Lizzie said chucking the remote to you.

“I’m thinking marvel.” You grinned making both women groan in protest.

You put on age of ultron and barely twenty minutes in Lizzie’s gentle head scratches had lulled you back into the arms of sleep.

POTS was hard to live with but with all the people in your life supporting you it was bearable.

Part 2

@barbarasstar @charlie56

[callsign-rogueone]

defective

Bodhi Durran x reader, Brennan Sorrengail & reader words: 1.7k 🏷️: did somebody say more chronically ill reader? with sweet baby Bodhi this time, and reader with a heart condition. negativity about illness / reader thinking they’re weak, others calling them weak / defective / etc., but not Bodhi or Brennan (they would never.) Brennan makes an appearance as an older brother figure, reader is referred to as she/her and a girl by members of the assembly but not by Bodhi. I think cuddling Bodhi would cure me of all my ills. I got the idea for this the other day when I went up stairs carrying a laundry basket and almost fainted. I would not make it up to the parapet, let alone be able to cross it lmao. anyway, here, have this. already plotting a part two of them reuniting after Resson 🥺

The assembly are too busy arguing to notice you standing in the doorway — arguing about you, you realize quickly.

“We can’t send her to her death.”

“We’ve been forced to send 15 to their potential deaths so far, with 92 more to go. Why is she any different from the rest?”

“You know damn well why, Ulices,” Brennan snaps. “Everyone else has a fighting chance, but there’s no way she’s going to survive the parapet, let alone the rest of the year.”

“There’s 250 steps up to the parapet. She won’t even make it to the top,” another voice adds.

“There’s still time to fix that. They don’t leave for another three months.”

“You can’t fix her,” Trissa says firmly. “No amount of  time in the gym will change the fact that she’s defective. She’ll never be able to do the things that the others can. She’s too weak.”

The word echoes in your ears. Defective. 

Your gaze falls to the empty chair — Xaden’s chair. What would he say if he was here? Would he let them call you weak? What would he say? Maybe it’s for the best that you don’t know. It would only hurt you to hear that the boy you’ve always idolized and regarded as an older brother call you weak and pathetic.

“So what would you have us do?” Felix asks.

“Either we send her with the rest, knowing her name will be at the top of the death roll on conscription day, and her blood will coat our hands forever, or we tell Navarre that she died, and keep her here. It should be believable enough that the weakling girl with the heart problem died young. It’s a miracle she hasn’t died already.”

Tears blur your vision, and you bring a hand up to swipe them away with your sleeve. The whisper of the fabric moving is enough to give you away; five heads turn toward the door, seeing you standing there.

Something compels you to run away — likely the fact that you’d been caught eavesdropping by the entire assembly. These meetings aren’t secret, but there’s an unwritten rule that the kids aren’t invited, especially if it isn’t a routine meeting.

Brennan calls your name, but you ignore him, moving faster, intent on getting back to the room you’ve been sleeping in and shutting the door in his face so you can cry alone in peace.

He catches up with you quickly, his strides longer and his movements faster. He lays a gentle hand on your arm. “Hey,” he coaxes. 

You stop and turn toward him, knowing that you can’t run again — he’s faster than you, and moving would also be a very bad idea right now; you feel like you’re going to fall over.

“I’m so sorry, kid.”

“Not your fault,” you rasp, fumbling for the wall and pressing your hand into it to support yourself. 

“Hold on to me,” he instructs. “Can I check your pulse?”

You nod, regretting the motion when it makes your head spin faster, and wrap your hand around his forearm, using him as an anchor to hold yourself up.

“Attagirl. Keep breathing.”

You work on deepening your breaths, filling your lungs all the way before you exhale, like he’d taught you last year.

Hot, frustrated tears slip down your cheeks. 

They’re right. You are defective. You can’t even run down a hallway without your body giving up on you. You wouldn’t be able to get up to the parapet, let alone cross it after that exertion — you can hardly stand right now. 

“Talk to me,” he asks after a moment. 

“I don’t want to go,” you say softly, “but to stay here, and let all my friends go where I can’t ever see them or help them, knowing they could die any day…”

“I know. I felt the same way when my sister started, but she’s a full fledged Captain now. Commands her own unit in Montserrat,” he says quietly, but it sounds like it pains him to say it — to tell you that she’s on the other side of the fight. “They’re all strong, they’ll make it through. And they’ll have each other to lean on.”

You nod again, and this time it doesn’t make you dizzy. “Yeah,” you say hollowly. “They’re strong.”

He immediately knows what you’re getting at. “Hey. I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think you’re weak. I think you’re just at too much of a disadvantage to risk it. Your strengths lie elsewhere— not in the physical.”

“If only we could be scribes,” you sigh.

“If only,” he says softly. “My youngest sister is going to start in the scribe’s quadrant the year after this. She’s a lot like you, actually. She was born with an issue with her bones. She’s got a heart of gold, though. And she’s incredibly smart, like you. I think you’d get along well.”

“If it wasn’t for this, yeah,” you say quietly, looking down at your relic. 

He tries to hide his wince, but it doesn’t quite work. “I think she’d come around once she realized how great you are.”

“Whatever they decide, can you be the one to tell me? Alone?” you ask in a small voice. “I don’t want to see the looks on their faces. I know I’m an embarrassment to them, but I don’t want to be reminded of it.”

“You aren’t an embarrassment,” he chides softly. “But of course. I can tell you when they make their decision.”

“Thank you.”

He opens his arms to you. “C’mere, kid.” 

You step forward, letting him guide you into a gentle embrace. 

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you ask into his shoulder.

“For surviving. For not giving up. For dealing with your symptoms every day and not letting it break you. For so many things. You’re amazing.”

“I don’t feel amazing.” 

“That’s okay. I hope you will someday, though.”

“Someday,” you agree softly.

“Alright. Let’s get you back to your room.”

You nod, keeping a hand on his arm while he walks with you. He’s slowed his steps to match yours, but he doesn’t show any sign of impatience.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

“Of course, sweet girl. Get some rest. Bodhi should be back in a few hours.”

Your cheeks warm as you realize that Brennan knows about whatever you two have going on — you don’t call yourselves boyfriend and girlfriend, but you’re very close, and there’s definitely a spark there. 

He drops a kiss to the top of your head, waiting to make sure you’re safely inside your room before he heads back down the hall. 

———————

Bodhi shows up around sunset, his hair damp from the showers. He sits beside you on the edge of your bed, leaning back against the pillows. “Hi, lovie.”

“Hi.”

He tilts your chin up with a gentle movement of his knuckle, seeing the tears in your eyes. “Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not going to Basgiath,” you admit quietly.

“What?”

“The assembly decided that I’m too weak to even make it up the stairs to the parapet,” you answer, your voice wavering. “They’re going to tell Navarre that I died, because of my heart problem.”

Why are you crying again? You went over all this with Brennan already and got it out of your system — but evidently not.

Bodhi looks conflicted. You watch the gears turn, and see him weigh the good and the bad. You won’t have to endure everything riders are put through, and the assembly is right, you wouldn’t survive it. But to stay here while everyone else risks their lives, with no way to communicate with them, would be crushing. And if you’re found out, Xaden’s life will end along with yours.

He gathers you up into his lap, holding you close. He smells good, clean — soap and the tiniest bit of cologne, something warm and woody. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“I am too,” you sniff. “I wish I could be there with you, but…”

“It’s for the best,” he says gently. “I’d rather you be here, safe with Bren and the elders, than overworking yourself every day, and making things worse.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I still feel guilty about it, though.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s just how you were made. And you know it doesn’t change the way that any of us feel about you. We all love you so much, because you’re you, and you’re our friend.”

“Love you too,” you sniff. “M’ gonna miss you so much.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m going to miss you too, every day. But I promise I’ll write — I know first years can’t send letters, but I’ll ask Xaden or Gare to send it for me. They’ll probably have to sign their names on it, and address it to someone else, but you’ll know it’s from me by the handwriting.”

That makes you feel a little better, but you’re still worried. “But when you graduate, and move across the continent…”

“Then I’ll come visit you here, as often as I can. Maybe I’ll be closeby. Or maybe Tyrrendor will be freed by then.”

“Maybe,” you sigh. 

“I don’t want you to think for even a second that this means I’m letting go of you,” he says firmly. “You’re stuck with me, even if we’re apart, okay?”

“Okay,” you say quietly. 

“Good. Now, I have had a very long day of having my ass kicked by Imogen, and I’d like to spend the rest of it laying here with my favorite person.”

You’re his favorite person? You must be looking at him in disbelief, because he laughs lightly, his chest shaking against yours. “Yes, you. I thought it was obvious. You’re the one I spend all my time with.”

“You’re my favorite person too,” you say softly. 

He smiles. “I’m glad we sorted that out. Get comfy.”

You scoot off of his lap, settling down on the mattress. He slots himself in beside you, letting you work your way under his arm to rest your head on his chest. He’s put on a considerable amount of muscle in the last few months, and it’s so nice to rest your body against his like this, a strong arm keeping you in place as he reaches toward the foot of the bed for a blanket to drape over the both of you. 

You hum sleepily, content to rest in the warmth of his body and the softness of the blanket.

“This good?”

“Perfect,” you murmur. 

“Perfect indeed,” he agrees softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and wrapping his fingers around your wrist, resting his thumb over your pulse point. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“G’night, Bo.”

[bisexual-apocalypse]

John Price with a chronically ill reader who uses crutches and has a service dog (definitely not projecting nahhhhh).

sorry if this is shit, it’s 2am. also i don’t say it in this but reader has EDS and POTS in my vision of them (again, definitely not projecting 👀)

You’re in the corner store just to grab a soda and some chips for a friends night in when your service dog gives you the first alert that you should sit down. You ignore her because, “I’ll be fine”

You were not fine. Less than a minute later and you start to get tunnel vision, everything sounds like it’s underwater, you’re going to pass out. You give your dog the command to lead you to a place to sit. Coming to a wall of the store you lower yourself to the ground, setting your crutches to each side of you so you can get up again when you’re ready. With what little strength you have, you manage to text your friend to let them know where you are and that you’re passing out.

Then, you pass out. Nothing new, this is a normal occurrence. But when John walks to the back of the store to grab some chips and sees you, out against the wall, he gets concerned. He notices your service dog and crutches but you’re alone, at around 9pm, in a corner store, and unconscious.

He’s unsure of what to do. You have a service dog who’s not acting on anything, which must mean it doesn’t have any command to follow on with, and you are not visibly injured. But he can’t just leave you here alone.

[fuzedatti]

am's interaction with a chronically ill, sick and disabled favorite human of his? one so plagued with their own natural suffering that his barely fazes them.

AM with a disabled/chronically ill favorite human.

// cw hospital mention, AM being AM //

Ah, I have been waiting for this kind of ask for a while.

AM despises humans with all of his hollow soul. He wishes he could move freely, dance without pain, love without consequences.

And he finds you. You, the sick, the fallen, the blind and the ill, are different from the others; AM can't even comprehend how a human, who is supposed to be capable of anything, is in so much pain of its own. AM understands, and he grows fond of you.

The supercomputer begans to care about you. He no longers inflicts pain on you, preferring to isolate you from the others and force you to talk about... you.

AM is a strange being. He doesn't force you into these interrogations just "because", he wants to learn about you, he wants to help you. Either way it hurts you, its not easy to talk about your disabilities/illnes with your tormentor, who knows what kind of unspeakable horrors he will apply to you with said information.

Yet, when you finally open up and talk about it, he becomes very caring to you and only you. AM brings you meds to aid your pain, he lets you have decent mobility aids, he even constructed a special, secret room for when your body just can't go any longer; its like a mini hospital where you can rest.

AM knows that you are not the biggest fan of hospitals, but thats just part of his "love". At the end, he wants you to know that he sees you as an equal regarding pain. AM understands how infuriating it is to only wish to do things others can do so easily.

He couldn't visualize himself in love. How can someone love him with his horrid scars, old eyes & ears, broken legs and curved back. But you, oh you adored every bit, every line of his skin. Because you and him shared the pain no one else could knew in the end of the world.

For a moment, AM was loved, and so were you.

[bugs1nmybrain]

First of all, love your writing! I especially love reading your headcanons 😁

Would it be alright to ask for headcanons on how Stein would be with a S/O that’s chronically ill/has a weak immune system? Like winters for them are hell because they know they’re gonna catch a cold come September and coughing fits, doctors visits and medication refills are just apart of their daily routine(may or may not be speaking from experience TTwTT)

🤍⚡️Franken Stein (Soul Eater) x Immuno-compromised Reader 🔩 🩺

I haven't written for Stein in forever!!! I hope I write this with sensitivity! I'll research a bit on it to make sure I write this as accurate as I can.

Warnings: Gender neutral reader, sfw, chronically ill reader, not proofread yet

Mister Doctor man is on the case!

If you don't tell him upfront that you have a weak immune system, he'll notice quick that you seem to be constantly under the weather

Will pry about it, and ask you if this is regular for you

When you tell him that you're chronically ill, it isn't a surprise. He'll help

Stein is proficient in most areas of medical care, so he'll make sure your medications are constantly available to you and even offer to be your personal domestic doctor. You'll tell him it's a conflict of interest as a joke, but he insists

He knows how to make sure you're as comfortable as you can be, making sure you're properly nourished and getting meals that incorporate a proper amount of vitamins

It isn't exactly a cure, but it helps

If you're feel especially sick, he encourages rest. If you need doctors' notes for work or college or the like, he's on it.

He doesn't treat you like you're made of glass or anything because he knows better, but he's definitely vigilant of your symptoms and reminds you to make sure you're taking your medicine and taking it easy if you're having a hard time

Coughing fits don't gross him out and he'll be there to help you feel better however he can

Will hound on treatment regimens

He'll try soooo hard not to ask if he can dissect you

Ofc will remind you to wash your hands regularly, but he knows you're already aware of that. His reminders are more his way of telling you he cares about your wellbeing and that he loves you (don't let him convince you that he doesn't)

If you need someone by your side when you're bedridden, he's there. Even if he has to take off time from work, he will, and don't feel guilty for it. He'll sit beside you and have the silliest conversations with you, whether they are theoretical or just casual talk. If you win him over he'll snuggle, but this man is TALL so get yourself a big bed, okay?

He will try to keep his smoke out of your face so that it doesn't stuff you up

He's here to help you to the best of his abilities. He can only imagine how hard it is, but he's a smart guy. He'll take care to make sure you're as healthy as possible.

[mewnewew]

Sir Crocodile x Chronically ill!Reader pt.2

Hello, hello, yes this might be a continuing series. Don't worry I'll drop other pieces occasionally but this seems interesting to work with. You miiiiiiight find it on ao3 as well, so keep an eye out! Uh this picture does not belong to me and I just found it off Google I'm so sorry- pt.1 pt.3

Some years later, this newfound closeness between you two grew. So did your sickness. One of the doctors recommended a medicine that was particularly harsh in terms of side effects. Vomiting, and fevers, it was one of the worst you had. What really surprised you was the fact that Crocodile had appointed some people to help.

"You know I can handle myself, no?" You said, having strode into his office to confront him.

He eyed you, then puffed out a cloud of smoke, before taking out the cigar.

"I got them, so that it's easier for you. Not for babying you. I know you can handle it." He stood up suddenly, walking to come beside you placing a hand on your shoulder.

"We both know how it feels to be babied. I wouldn't put that feeling on you of all people." He whispered in your ear, bending down before moving on.

He walked off, leaving you to wonder if maybe you'd just hallucinated it all.

Not long after, it was winter. That night you were shivering in bed, having woken up due to the cold, and no matter what you did, you were just so damn cold. So you did what felt more comfortable, and that was to pull the blankets over your head curling up into a little ball.

It seemed to work, till the blanket got pulled off you by a bemused Crocodile.

"What are you doing?"

"It's cold" you said, with chattering teeth as you stared up at him. You felt and assumed that you looked like a wet, pathetic kitten. You definitely felt like one anyway. You tucked your feet underneath you now, unable to suppress the shiver from the rest of your body now no longer under the blanket. Your arms were wrapped around you. You felt like a hen....

Crocodile watched you for a few more seconds then wordlessly started changing into his daily nightwear, and you just reached for the blanket again. Both of you gave each other space when it came to changing, an unspoken rule of not staring at the other.

But what surprised you was that when he got into bed, he tugged you close to him, his hand snaking around you to tuck you close to him. You froze, but let out a sigh when you felt his body heat, your hands splayed over his side. You felt him hum at the sensation, watching as he laid his stump over his abdomen.

"Thanks." You whispered in the quiet of the night, you hear him huff.

"Go to sleep."

The next morning you woke up curled into him entirely, with his face inches away from yours upwards. You blink slowly, watching him. At some point, he'd turned onto his side so he was facing you, also somewhat curled into you. His hand had curled underneath you to rest on your hip, and you could feel its warmth seeping through your clothes. His other arm was behind your back, resting on the bed behind you. Thus both arms were effectively caging you in. You could feel his breath tickling your hair, your legs tangled with his.

You watched him for a while, before starting to wonder whether to get up. On one hand, you were quite comfy and warm. On the other.....you had to get up, also take your medicine. You tried to gently pry his hand off, trying to wriggle away, when you felt the arm behind you push you close. So that his chin was touching your crown.

"Stay" He said, his voice was more rough having just woken up.

You shifted slightly backwards so that you were now looking up at him, eyes meeting his.

His hand, famed for causing sandstorms able to destroy towns and cities, destroying all that came in the way of his sand, came up, cupping your cheek. It was somewhere between rough and smooth, but the main thing you focused on was that it was positioned on your skin as if your skin was something delicate.

You didn't break eye contact with him, but closed your eyes when he shifted you closer to place a kiss on your forehead again, before tucking your head under his chin.

"I know that you have to take your medicine in an hour. So just sleep, I'll wake you."

You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into his warmth, closing your eyes and drifting back into the warm sea of sleep.

And so things changed.

There was a certain flame slowly growing. Something small was in the process of blooming.

[armyangxls]

About me: My name is Lexi, I’m 21, Queer, Christian writer, editor, neurodivergent, chronically ill, and my pronouns are she/they

About my stories: Most of my stories are written as chronically ill gender neutral readers! And all are autistic queer plus size readers!

What I post: fandom stuff, fanfics, stories, icons, gifs, fancasts, stimboards, etc

My f/os: Tex Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Richie Kirsch, Evan Buckley, Ticci Toby, Ryan Hudson, Corey Cunningham, Henry Creel, Mike Munroe, Chris Halliwell, Gilbert Blythe, Johnny Sawyer, Cooper Adams, Herr König, Adam Maitland, Wadsworth (Clue), Travis Hackett and like any Ted Raimi character, Sayid Jarrah, Albert Wesker, etc

Random favorite things: Scooby Doo, non sketchy storms, St. Augustine FL, cozy days, horror media, video games, board games, cartoons, road trips, cozy spooky media, ghosts, period media, dusk, Ghibli movies, foggy days, witchy stuff, mysteries, celestial stuff, decorations, paranormal!

Favorite aesthetics: whimsigoth, fairy Grunge, tropical girl, spooky coastal town, anything cozy or spooky!

Favorite music: Chase Atlantic, Chappell Roan, Ethel Cain, Brye, Isabel LaRosa, She Wants Revenge, BTS, TV girl, Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Fleetwood Mac, Olivia Rodrigo, The Neighborhood, Lovelytheband, Mazzy Star, Melanie Martinez, Halsey!

Favorite YouTubers: Jake Webber, Johnnie Gilbert, Sam and Colby, Loey Lane, Trek Trendy, Jessii Vee!

Fandoms: BTS, The Vampire Diaries, Encanto, Stranger Things, DC Stargirl, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Fear Street, Scream, The Lost Boys, Outer Banks, 9-1-1, 9-1-1 Lone Star, The Crow, Halloween, Nancy Drew, Lisa Frankenstein, House Of Wax, Pretty Little Liars, Elvis (2022), Bridgerton, Are You Afraid of The Dark?, Fate The Winx Saga, Anne of Green Gables (1985-), Riverdale, The Maze Runner, Creepypasta, Marble Hornets, American Horror Story & Stories, Harry Potter (anti JKR), Fantastic Beasts, Scream TV Series, Charmed, Dead By Daylight, My Babysitter’s A Vampire, Sense and Sensibility, I Am Not Okay With This, Love Victor, It (2017), Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, The Strangers Prey at Night, Rizzoli And Isles, Texas Chainsaw Massacre game, Five Nights At Freddy's, Abigail, Trap, Beetlejuice Lost, Found, CBS Ghost, Clue, Degrassi, etc

Social Medias: @btsarmygirl417 Edit Instagram TikTok @starry-ghost-tour my reblog account @whimsyspookyloves my f/o account

Playlist: Character playlists Part Two Monthly Playlist

DNI: Racists, Homophobos, Transphobos, pro-eds, fatphobos, ableists, Trump Supporters, Nazis, Proshipers, anti self-diagnose, conservatives, etc

Taglists: Stranger Things Taglist Scream Taglist Stargirl taglist Fear Street taglist

Masterlists: Writing Masterlist Gif Masterlist Test Posts Masterlist Fancasts Masterlist Icons Masterlist

Show and tell f/os: part three

🔮🕯️🎃🧸🥳👽🎃🔮👻🐇📽️🎃🕯️🔮

[kodiackwrites]

Willy wonka x chronically ill reader, warnings of doctor and sickness talk! (I have chrons & POTS so this is roughly based on those diagnoses but there’s no mention of set issue)

Willy wonka who’s partner is chronically ill but the doctors can’t find any diagnosis or treatment.

Willy wonka who sits by your side through every trip to the doctor, on the bathroom floor during bad nights, taking note of foods and other triggers.

One day in specific, the day was going well you felt decent for the first time in a while, so Willy takes you to walk around town and sight see. But your head started spinning, your legs felt light, and suddenly you couldn’t hold yourself up, usually you’d have crutches for this, but you’d left them at home. And of course Willy would always support you.

One day, things were bad, you couldn’t leave your bed or the ball you were curled into, dearly clutching a giraffe plushy will had bought you. Will had left to grab you water, and rushed back into your room with light weight, not making too much noise, “I’m so sorry honey I’m back, I’m right here.” He said bringing over your water, placing it right by your side, You weakly looked up to meet his eyes, tears fighting to fall down your face. His expression filled with sorrow as he brought a hand to your chin, carefully listing your face to place a kiss on your cheek, before crawling into bed by your side, you looked to your water, seeing a small chocolate, It was in the shape of a heart, with purple and blue streaks throughout, you’d never doubted Will’s choice of sweets, so you took it into your hands, and slowly ate it. Before drinking a bit of water and rolling over into Will’s arms, which he wrapped around you immediately, making sure you were comfortable, and massaging your scalp. Leaving you to drift off to sleep calmly.

You’d wake up with Willy still holding you, he’d never dare leave you in such a state, but you felt, better? For once in so so long, you felt normal, no discomfort, headaches, stomach aches, it was a miracle, you quickly say up and turned Willy, “Did you?” He just smiled, “it worked?” He asked hopefully, you couldn’t find the words to respond, just jumped into his arms, “thank you handsome, so so much.”

(I need this to be real, I’m dying)

[2demondogs]

Hosea/Chronically Ill Reader Headcanons

A/N: Self-indulgence... Gender neutral reader. Written with POTS in mind, but it could speak to some others. A few conditions have been recognized as Soldier's Heart or Da Costa's Syndrome among many other names.

Hosea is kicking pretty good for the wear and tear he's seen, but it doesn't mean those years aren't catching up to him. As his emphysema gets worse, you're both sitting out on things that neither of you want to. The aches, the shortness of breath, the random, strange things that go haywire inside; he gets them, too, for different reasons.

Beyond the physical symptoms, he can understand the mental challenges of feeling like your body just refuses to do what you're asking it to. It's frustrating and you both have a habit of pushing yourselves and finding out the hard way what happens.

It helps to have someone to care for when you feel like you are losing your own usefulness, your own ability. This goes both ways, although Hosea is a little less willing to accept any kind of help.

He's the one to tell you it's likely a case of Soldier's Heart, having been the world over and seen next to everything. He's taken a few rides into town to converse with doctors or page through books to refresh his herb memory. Hosea's got new herbal concoctions for you every other week to help remedy the symptoms; whether they work or not and regardless of the disappointment when they don't, you appreciate the care.

When you're getting a flare, he finds whoever is slacking most to take on your chores so he can spend the time with you. He'd take them on himself if he could do both. He will constantly remind you of all you do when you express you feel guilty or ashamed. He might project some with his comforts, but usually they still hit close to home and soothe you.

Hosea likes reading to you, keeping his voice even and steady so your body can adjust itself based on his rhythm. He prefers to be able to see you in his peripherals, but he'd never deny you of laying your head in his lap or curling around his back. You often doze off in those positions, and he's glad you're getting the rest you need.

[my-morai]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CT-9902 | Tech/Reader Characters: CT-9902 | Tech, CT-9901 | Hunter, CT-9903 | Wrecker, CT-9904 | Crosshair, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Reader Additional Tags: Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft CT-9902 | Tech, Love, Love Confessions, Disability, Happy Ending Summary:

Tech turned and rose quickly from the bed, retrieving his data pad from a nearby table. You pushed yourself up, trying to reach a seated position, a feeling of dread washing over you.

“Tech?”

“I cannot believe I have been so unobservant, I should have realized you would run out of the medication without the regular supply from the Republic.”

He was tapping furiously on his datapad now, brows knit together.

“Tech, there was so much you were already worrying about-”

“You should always be my primary concern.”

[imaginethezeldaverse]

Hello! I don't know if you write for the more obscure characters in Botw/Totk but I figured I'd ask just in case ☺️ Could you please write something about Tauro, Purah, Sidon and Zelda dating a Sheikah s/o who's chronically ill/disabled? It'd be great if you could make them specifically have weak bones and be really short too, and they're often upset how people keep babying them because they might fracture or break something. But if you want to keep it more open-ended that's fine too!

Thank you so so much, you're probably my favorite Zelda blog on Tumblr! Your writing and ideas are always like *chefs kiss* 😘! Have a good day and drink lots of water!

Whenever people tell me I'm their favorite anything it literally shocks me because there are SO many fantastic zelda fic blogs on here that I feel are vastly superior - but I thank you nonetheless! 🥰

I'll write for pretty much any character - I just keep romance and nsfw content for adults. So I'd be happy to!

Tauro, as well-mannered and good-natured he is, is amongst the mass where he needs to be reminded that while you are disabled, you aren't incapable of doing normal things. He tries his best to remember that, but his rambunctious and steadfast nature leads him to be righteous and helpful, even when it's not needed. Plus given his height, he always just assumes that people tend to need help to reach things in tall places if he's ever around. He does try his best to be sensitive to your needs and wants, however, tapping his hand to his chest when he catches himself doing too much. Instead, he makes an effort to remind himself to wait for you to ask him should you need anything. Very affectionate, otherwise - he enjoys making you smile and wrapping his big ol' bear arms around you (albeit, he's careful not to actually squeeze you too hard because he does NOT know his own strength) and is very attentive on the days that you specifically don't feel well and your body leaves you in a weaker state than normal.

Purah, being the research fanatic and accomplished scientist that she is, is already aware and well read on your illness. That, however, has never stopped her from being absolutely smitten with you. Where she is boisterous and outlandish, there is a careful resilience to you that she keeps close to her heart. She sees your frustration often with the townsfolk who treat you with unnecessary delicacy, and while she understands the "good-intent", she feels as you do: chronic illness should not beget differential treatment. When you express your frustrations, she's an open ear always. Purah is never one to explain why the people of your community act this way that leans in their favor, but rather why their attitudes should not portray you under a fragile light when you are anything but. She empathizes with you greatly, knowing exactly what it's like for your own people to treat you like you're something you're not (her experiences with de-aging left quite the mark), but she assures you that you've always got her on your side.

“I’ve never much like everyone else…and neither have you,” Purah muses, tapping her recorder in her hand. She lifts her glasses, her crimson eyes blazing in your direction with admiration and sincerity, “I guess that makes us a cut above the rest, now doesn’t it?”

Sidon is about as bubbly with you as you can imagine. That sharp smile completely alight when you're with him. His height difference compared to yours doesn't bother him considering he towers greatly over just about everyone he meets, so as long as you don’t care (which he secretly hopes you don’t!) then all is well. When he learns about your chronic illness, he’s at first admittedly worried, but he sees how much you value your independence and doesn’t push you to do less than anything you’re up for. Sidon, having learned his healing capabilities from Mipha, will actually offer to “bathe” with you whenever you’re not feeling especially strong, letting the softness of his magically imbued water immerse your body and take any pain or pressure off of your form for a while and bring you some ease. You don’t take him up on it often, half because you don’t feel it’s always necessary, and half because you don’t want to impose - though of course Sidon would refute you ever being an imposition upon him. He chooses his words very carefully, making sure to give you the impression that he’s willing to do whatever you need should you need something from him, but without overstepping and making you feel incapable.

“You’ll never be without, my darling,” Sidon whispers, taking your hand, those slit-pupiled eyes softening as he brushes back a lock of your silver-white hair, “But I will never claim to know you better than yourself.”

Zelda has always been a ball of curiosity, that’s one of the things you love about her. She has an awfully curious mind, so when you explain to her about your chronic illness for the first time, she of course asks you a lot of questions. You laugh thinking about back then, how she felt terrible for borderline prying into your life though she wanted to know everything about you at that time. You remember assuring her that it was fine, and it made you incredibly grateful that Impa had introduced you before she stepped down - it allowed you two to get close. The times that you’ve gone to town together, Zelda takes notice of how people tend to treat you akin to porcelain: delicate, fragile, some even giving off the impression that you’re a lost cause because of your Sheikah heritage. Combined with your stature (with Zelda herself being on the shorter side of an average Hylian’s height), it’s enough to infuriate you both. You two tend to bounce off of one another: shes sticks up for you when you feel like someone’s unnecessarily babying you, and you put your two cents in whenever someone is overly cautious and hovering due to her status, even after proving herself beyond capable. Ultimately she too understands your plight of people looking at you differently because of who are you or what they know about you. She recants the days when her father treated her as helpless and small, hyper focused on keeping her in line rather than letting her be her own person. She takes your hand, intertwining fingers with yours and lending you a genuine smile.

“But we are not weak. We are not frail or easily broken. I am not defined entirely by my title,” Zelda kisses the top of your hand before gently covering it with her other in an endearing move, “And you are not defined by your illness.”

[fbfh]

hii! could I request headcanons for leo and a reader (gender neutral or female, whatever u prefer) with chronic fatigue? there's barely any fics with cfs rep and he's my comfort character so i thought i'd ask T-T. i adore your writing and it's great to see that the hoo fandom is still alive. thank you sm!!

oh man oh boy I love this one anon. my dearest darlingest anoniest anon. one song that always makes me think of how it feels to be in a relationship with Leo is acolyte by slaughter beach dog. Leo can always tell when your fatigue is getting bad, sometimes before you can. There's this sort of soft way he looks at you when he knows you just need to rest a little. Whatever your needs are, Leo will always be sure to meet them. If you need to lay down and sleep or rest for a while, he'll make sure you're in optimum napping conditions. Need some cuddles? he's already spooning you. Need to be alone? no problem, he's gonna work on some of his prototypes in the garage for a while, just text or call if you need anything. forehead kiss. longing warm gaze.

"I love you, estrella."

punctuated by another kiss, ofc. he always has ibuprofen or other pain killers for when you start to feel achy, and he's better at helping you keep track of your meds than your pill tracker app. Leo's love language is "I invented this for you to make your life easier", like the guy who invented rubber gloves. Leo loves you to the point of invention. he's joked for years that he's going to build you a Jetsons house, so everything is perfectly automated. all you need to do is sit in a chair while you glide down an assembly line and everything will be done for you. sometimes you text him and tell him you're having a jane jetson day. he always comes right over with snacks and tea and anything else you might need. he'll cuddle you for a while, help you out with some housework, do a little meal prep for you. he never, ever makes you feel bad or even neutral about having chronic fatigue. if it ever gets you down, he'll be right there with hugs and kisses and the sweetest, softest, most encouraging words. he tells you how he would hold up the sky for you or crawl out of hell, so helping with laudry and dishes when you're having a bad day is really no problem at all for him. he's happy to do it, happy to know your needs are met, happy to be the one to meet them. if you get any other symptoms like headaches or sore throats, he'll get every home remedy under the sun from his mom and you'll try them out until he finds what will work for you. Leo slowly makes good on his joking promise to make you a jetsons house, and you soon find your place filled with inventions here and there from Leo, little things to make your life easier. and they work. it takes so much stress out of your life knowing that your dish washer can now rinse, wash, dry, and put away your dishes, that your fridge organizes itself and prints out lists of what you're running low on - it can even send them to your phone to automatically order them. you have a roomba that Leo turned into the monster truck of roombas. not only does it vaccuum, but it also sweeps, mops, picks up your floor, can get you stuff from other rooms, and folds laundry. it's also a dehumidifier. you named him mr. butlertron. and Leo loves every motherfucking moment of it. even if all you can do is sit or lay down in the same room as him while he cleans or cooks or works on his projects, it always makes it so much better because you're there. you're there with him, so everything is good. perfect.

[marbl3z]

I know it hurts, I'm here, my love.

chronically ill reader x Dan heng

Very self indulgent — I kind of forced myself to write this at 12am, I didn't want the thought to leave my mind.

I'll add warnings later. I just want this out.

Your joints hurt, your head pounding. Though as the pain washes over you, you tried your best not to worry Dan Heng. Your precious lover, you hated seeing those sympathetic eyes, he wishes he could take the pain away. You both know that'll never happen, this is a curse that you bear and as the time goes on, it may lessen or it may get worse. Nonetheless, it'll never disappear for good.

You laid your head on his chest, one arm wrapped around your frame and the other holding up a book. You had your eyes fixated on something on your phone, your symptoms were bad so times like this were comforting and you were able to get your mind off of the pain for a while. Well, that's what you hoped..

Another rush of pain through your left side, your shoulder and elbow hurting as if you had arthritis. You shifted uncomfortably your head pounded due to your heart rate being erratic. Your lover noticed your uncomfortable shift.

"what's going on, sweetheart?" He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You made a strangled groan as you whined, sitting up after not getting comfortable enough to relax.

He sat up with you, placing his book face down onto the plush mattress. His hand ghosted around your back as you tried shifting your arm, rotating it gently to not hurt the muscle. He saw your painful expression as you sighed, defeated.

"do you need me to get anything?" He asks, you shake your head in response. Your lip quivered, you felt like you were going to cry but you held it in as your lover was right beside you.

He was afraid to hold you, unsure where the pain was focused at. He tried to think of something to give you relief, remembering that he read that warm water or a heating pad helps lessen tension in muscles.

"sweetie, is it okay if I go grab the heating pad from the infirmary?" He caresses your face, pressing his forehead against yours.

You nod, not wanting to speak as it hurt your throat to talk. He gets up, placing his phone in his pocket and yours next to you. He gives you a quick kiss on your head as he left your room quickly, not wanting to leave you by yourself for too long. Your lips quivered again, the pain washing over you in waves. It felt as if your muscles were on fire, your shoulder ached so badly you thought it might fall off.

Tears filled your tired eyes, you wanted this to end. You fall back onto the plush mattress, the pain becoming unbearable. Your body rocked with hiccups from your sobs, you prayed that you'd get better. You prayed and prayed the pain would stop, not even pain killers helped. It hurt so much, it made you question your existence.

As you sobbed, clutching Dan Heng's pillow. It was the only bit of comfort you had, he was your light during the darkest moments. He was the reason you kept fighting. You regret letting him go to the infirmary, you don't know how long you've been sobbing. You felt a gentle hand on your back, rubbing soft circles onto your muscles.

"I'm here, I'm sorry I took so long... I couldn't find it quick enough..." he pants, his hair a mess, he has the heating pad in his hand, the cord wrapped neatly in his fist.

You hiccuped, turning over. "Why do I have to suffer.." you weakly asked. His eyes softened, he plugged the pad in, waiting for it to become warm. "What did I do wrong..?" You asked, nuzzling your face into the plush pillows that felt like concrete against your muscles.

"you did nothing wrong... I'm so sorry," he whispers, pulling you to him, your achy joints hurt so bad but when you're in his arms it felt as if it was bearable. "My sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Life is so unfair to you, I wish I could take it away. I wish I could find a cure for you." He coos, rubbing your shoulder softly, hearing your sobs in his neck made his heartbreak.

"I just wish I was normal," you hiccup'd clutching his shirt in your small fists. He shushes your cries, picking you up with one arm. He shoved blankets and pillows around to support your body. He plops you down gently, kissing your face.

"I love you, you're so strong for going through this. You're so brave, you're so so brave." He whispers, pressing his forehead against your own.

You whine, your head resting against his pillow. He hushes your cries, wiping your tears away with his thumb. Kissing your chapped lips, he leans you towards him, placing the heating pad underneath your back.

"where does it hurt, lovely?" He smiles softly, wanting you to feel better. You cried out as another wash of pain went over your body.

You pointed with your right arm to where it hurt the most. He took mental notes, pressing his lips against your shoulder. It's not much, but he wants to distract you from the pain. Pretending his kisses could heal your achy body, cure your pounding headache, he wants to make you feel as if everything will be okay.

He moves down to your arm, kissing the joint softly, his hand intertwined with your own. Your cries echo'd the room, he rubs your cheek softly. Kissing you wrist, moving to your palm and your knuckles. His lips were soft and warm against the achy joints and muscles.

"I got you, my starlight." He whispers. "It'll be okay, I won't leave you alone..." he promises kissing near the artery in your wrist.

Your eyes are barely open, you were so exhausted you didn't know if it was possible to go to sleep at this point. The pain was so intense, but also numbing... maybe his kisses were working, or maybe the heating pad helped, Either way.

"I love you so so so much." His warm breath against your lips made you hum. Not whine, or groan, just a gentle hum.

Your intertwined hands was enough to let you both know you loved each other, there was no reason to say it back, he knew. He presses a kiss where your heart is, right in the middle of your sternum. Pressing his forehead against it too, "please, just give them relief..." he whispers it was almost too quiet for you to hear.

Your eyes were basically closed, the last thing you see was his fluffy dark hair resting on top of your sweater. He shuffles a bit more, massaging everywhere that could be hurting you. He hums a gentle tune, one he probably heard somewhere on one of his trailblaze missions. His voice always put you to sleep, it was comforting to hear him "sing".

He lays next to you, pulling you gently closer to him. You scooted over, tiredly. He nuzzled your hair, holding your hand on top of your chest, his palm feeling your heart eventually slow to a calm rhythm. He smiled as he kissed your head, you were finally off to sleep. Hopefully not in pain, hopefully no nightmares tonight either.

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I'm tired. I'll give a proper fic when I feel better, for now though.. here, I guess.