So this is my second fic on doing a fic from a perspective of a chronically I'll reader (this one is post endgame). Please send me prompts. These are kind of therapeutic with me. I don't know many fandoms so specific pairings might be hard for me to do. But here we go..
Mean Green Migraine Fighting Machine
Everything was too much. The feel of the sheets against your skin, the tiny trace of light from under the door way, the feel of the flush settled on your skin; even the silence felt so over bearing that you just wanted to cease being for even just a few minutes. Your body felt like a lead balloon as you not to move, not to make any kind of quick movements. Migraines were truly a torture that you wouldn't wish on anyone. And this migraine, this was one of the longest ones you've ever had. Two hours after taking your medication and anti nausea meds it still felt as strong as when you woke up with it. You wanted to cry from the pain, but knew that would only make it worse.
You knew one thing that would make it more tolerable, one person, but you knew he was to worried about hurting you by accident when you were already to sensitive to touch.
"Friday please call Bruce here," you plead to the AI. In moments like this you just wanted to feel something positive. Something that wasn't related to the migraine. Something that reminded you that this was only a temporary pain no matter how intense it would go away eventually. You heard a knock at the door and immediately covered your eyes with your hands. And even though the door was open and closed quickly afterwards you still felt as if the light poured through your hands.
Ever so gently you felt an ice pack being placed over your forehead. The ice pack seeming to be the size of a bandaid in his hands. "I think that should help constrict the vessels a bit," Bruve whispered. You removed you hand from your face and in the dark you could see his silhouette leaning over the bed.
"Lie down with me," you ask. You could see the hesitation as his board shoulders tensed. You turn the covers down, a cold draft causing your body to shiver while your face still stayed flush.
"Nah come on. I'd just jostle you to much," he moves to pull the cover back up but you grab at his scarred hand holding it gently in your own not much strength in your own grasp at the moment.
"Please," a desperation in your voice, "Plus I can take my next dose in half an hour. Be here to keep track of the time. Plus after that dose I'll be numb to too much." He sighs and takes off his glasses but not before he refills the water glass at your bed side.
"You could just have Friday remind you," but he's already getting into bed and moving so gently you wonder how his professor hulk body move so gracefully. By the time he settles there is a small smile coming through the wince of your headache. He settles his hand over your stomach. A welcomed if not unconventional weighted blanket that finally let's you take a sigh of relief.
His gentle breathing breaking finally breaking up the loud silence that only seems to exist when your in this state. "My head hurts."
Originally a request from @gardensofwhimsy . I asked my BFF @hopelessromanticspoonie to collaborate on this, and she said yes!
You & your husband Marshall are happily married, but life can be tiring when one of you has a chronic illness and the other is a police officer.
******
You stretched, setting aside your proofreading for the day. The cosy little window seat Marshall had made for you from some old pillows, a favourite ragged shirt of his stitched onto a pillow that had seen better days, and some wooden board made a lovely cubbyhole but wasn’t the best for your back.
Sunlight made the glass warm and just as you looked out of it, you saw your husband’s truck pull up. He cut the engine and stepped out, six foot two of tall, dark and handsome, his curly hair tugged by the spring wind. He wore a thick sweater over worn jeans, and you watched his hips move for a moment before he disappeared through the door of your house.
Standing, you bit off a groan as your joints complained. You really shouldn’t curl up like this for too long, but you often got lost in your work. It was easy to ignore something so constant in your life as an aching body in favor of thrilling plots and frustrating red herrings.
Proofreading mystery novels was an amazing job - but it did mean you often got sucked into a story.
“Sweetheart?” Marshall called up the stairs.
“I’m up here.”
You heard his treads on the stairs and then he stuck his curly-haired head around the door. “Your favourite hideaway,” he smiled.
You walked to him and he enfolded you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, suffusing warmth from that point all the way down to the tips of your toes. “I missed you.”
You leaned back to look at him, to look into his blue, blue eyes. “Tough day?”
Marshall shrugged. “I’ve had worse. No new leads on the drug case. But, Glasgow brought his baby in again.”
“And did you pretend not to love her?”
“Of course. I have a reputation to maintain.”
One that hardly anyone bought anymore, you thought with a smile. Since you’d married Marshall, his second marriage, in a tiny country barn ceremony with candles and woodfire pizza, his colleagues had commented on how happy you’d made him.
And the feeling was mutual. He cared for you, emotionally, and physically. God knew marriage to someone suffering with chronic illness was no picnic, but Marshall shared the load with you without complaint.
You drew your arms away from his neck. “Ugh, sorry. Pain.” Your left shoulder joint clicked as you moved, but at least it didn’t dislocate that time. Marshall knew how to pop it back in, these days, but it was still unpleasant.
“Tired?” he asked with concern, cupping your cheek.
“No more than usual.” Tiredness was your bedfellow day in and day out, and you’d gotten used to it, to a point. If you stayed up late, like on your wedding day, you paid for it over the next seventy-two hours, or longer. “Dinner?”
“Sure.” He took your hand and led you downstairs. Today you’d made sure to take a break from work to marinate some steaks. Most of the time you ate simple meals due to your exhaustion and Marshall’s long and/or random hours. On the weekends you tried to batch cook huge pots of ragu or a big lasagne so you wouldn’t need to set aside spoons for cooking on work nights.
“Smells amazing,” Marshall commented as he stuck his head in the fridge and pulled out the platter of steaks. “Spuds?”
His British vernacular never failed to entertain you - as much as his accent made you melt inside. You mentally translated his word to potatoes. “With plenty of butter.”
He set the grill on while you bent down to the cupboard to get drinks - but when you stood up again, a spell of dizziness caught you off guard.
The world tilted and you grabbed the counter. Marshall noticed in a flash and hurried to your side, catching you before you hit the floor. He gave you a soft landing against a broad chest and settled cross-legged, holding you in his lap. “I got you.”
You huffed, annoyed. “I didn’t even stand up that quickly, that time,” you fake-laughed, but the tremble in your voice gave you away.
Marshall raised a brow. “Okay. Someone is going to sit down on the sofa until dinner is ready.” And before you could protest, he scooped you up and carted you to the couch, laying you on it, draping your favourite blanket over you.
“I feel like a sack of potatoes,” you groused.
A grin crossed his lips. “Good thing I like potatoes,” he sassed.
“With plenty of butter,” you sassed back.
You watched the movement of his hips in the worn denim as he moved back to the kitchen, and thought, it’d be nice to have the energy for sex later. You sometimes worried that Marshall thought he didn’t turn you on, but you knew that would never be the case. You loved everything about him, from his linebacker-wide shoulders to his dedication to justice.
But most of all, you loved that he was yours.
After he dished up you ate at the table, talking over his day, but exhaustion dragged at your eyelids. You loaded the dishwasher together.
Marshall steeped tea leaves in boiling water for you. "Would you prefer to be nagged to go to bed now, or later?"
His teasing tone made you smile. "I'll go."
You drank the tea and changed into pyjamas as Marshall pottered around the house. Chores helped him think through a tricky case, or so he told you. You suspected he said that to relieve your guilt when your body just wasn't up to everyday tasks.
He settled in beside you, pulling your back to his chest, nuzzling your neck. "My favourite part of the day," he sighed.
You tangled your legs with his. "It's mine, too."
Tagging some of my Henry pals who may like this: @cavillhavoc @watermeloncavill @just-the-hiddles @dr-kayleigh-dh @mrsaugustwalker @ly--canthrope @toomanystoriessolittletime @penwieldingdreamer @omgkatinka @trippedmetaldetector @andahugaroundtheneck @owillofthewisps @pinkzsugar @mary-ann84
A reader insert series about a spoonie (AKA disabled) Stark Industries IT tech who finds a kindred spirit in Loki, God of Spoons, because it’s hard being different on the inside.
Warnings on each chapter. However
~ - implied smut
* - smut
Seeing You Clearly
Loki and Spoons recall their first true meeting during a typical cozy morning.
Unexpected
Loki wants to check in on his favorite Stark Industries tech.
Grilled Cheese
Loki and Reader discuss what being a Spoonie truly means.
Marshmallows
Just a little drabble about the affection building between our spoonie reader & the God of Mischief.
Focus
Reader gets more and more frustrated working at Stark Tower, thanks to a bit of smothering concern.
One Good Turn
Reader receives a shiny gift. But who is it from?
Customary
What is the first date with an Asgardian Prince like?
Unsolicited Advice
Loki's getting ready for a date. Unfortunately, the world does not need saving today, so he gets interrupted. Quite a lot.
Movie Night
Movie Night with Loki doesn't come without first making it through Stark Tower and its inhabitants.
*Moving Mountains
Part 1 - Reader hasn't got the spoons for a fancy night out. So, the night out will come to her.
*Part 2 - Reader discovers that Loki's dessert for the evening doesn't involve anything that can be found in the kitchen.
I’m Fine
Spoons pushes herself too far and takes a tumble. Loki is there to pick up the pieces.
Intentions
The friendly neighbourhood Avengers are here again, with their advice. Loki is not loving it.
*Control
Part 1 - Loki discovers medicine Spoons has been hiding from him.
*Part 2 - Loki cedes control.
*Beyond Midgard
Part 1 - Loki and Spoons travel to Asgard.
Part 2 - Our reader meets Odin and Frigga, and the Queen sizes up Spoons.
*Part 3 - Loki has a haunting secret he needs to reveal to Spoons.
~Part 4 - Loki and Thor compete in the "welcome home" festival, our reader gets more time with Frigga, and Loki and Frigga have a very important conversation.
*Come Home
Part 1 - When Loki is late returning from a mission with the Avengers, Spoons gets anxious.
*Part 2 - Loki makes up for worrying Spoons, and ponders some worries of his own.
*New Traditions
*Part 1 - Spoons realizes that Loki hasn't celebrated a birthday since they've known each other, and she is determined to do something about it.
Part 2 - The party, and every Avenger has an opinion...
The Apple of My Eye
Part 1 - Loki has a speech to prepare, but it's foxing even the Trickster God. Cap tries to help, but an untimely interruption derails everything.
I'm sorry anon I lost your question! I really need to just get on desktop when I try to figure out how to properly post and edit. They asked for a comfort fluff with any avengers for a bad body pain day. This can be read as purely platonic or any pairing reader wants. I hope this helps in its own ways.
You're my Comfort
Quiet noise came from the TV, keeping you company in the empty common room. A slight frown plastered on your face, not leaving its place for most of the day. The only true comfort was from the plush blanket that you had tucked around yourself in order not to move an inch.
A deep sigh was let out from your nose as your eye winced. A dull ache moved moved through your shoulder which caused you to shift which then made you leg move which made your ankle give off a sharp ache.
"NNmmmhh," you let out an angry moan as your opposite shin began to hurt. "OH I know that noise. Y/N is stuck in a pain loop," Tony Stark entered the common room with a few of the Avengers team coming in after him.
They were back from their weekly SHIELD, UN, US meetings. Captain American himself leaned over the back of the couch both of your mirrored frowns reflected back at each other. Yours held more contempt while his held concern. "Are you OK Y/N," he asked. You just gave off a sad affirmative noise as Natasha sat on the far couch making sure there was enough room that as she sat she didn't jostle you.
"You took your meds before we left so there is still time before you can have them again unless you need the stronger stuff?"
"No," your voice held a dejected tone to it and she just raised an eyebrow to it. "Its not the worse I've had by a long shot it just hurts but not that extreme." She just nodded her head before she turned back to the TV seeing to be satisfied with the answer for now.
Steve came back quickly after changing into more comfortable clothes the same time that Tony came back from the kitchen bringing you a water. "Come on sit up a bit to drink and you can lay your head in my lap while I go over what the kindergarteners in my R&D did while Dr. Doom distracted me last week." I hesitate a bit but with Steve's help he pulled me into a sitting position to drink.
Just as tony got settled I felt a sneeze come on, "Achoo!" My breath was knocked out of me as my body clenched from the involuntary action. Pain ran throughout my body as I tooks small shallow breaths trying to come back to my senses. I layed as still as I could trying to get my muscles to relax again. When I felt some what back to normal, I lowered my head into Tony's lap.
"Are you ok," Natasha asked as Tony began to card his fingers through my hair. I let out a deep sigh before a sudden muscle spasm ran up my back.
"AAHHH," a honest scream came from me as both Steve and Natasha raced over to the both of you.
"I'm ok. I'm ok. Wow. That was really new," you confessed never having a spasm quite like that. Bad pain days ached,felt sore and throbbed through your muscles or bones. They robbed you of comfort and rest but just then that pain rocked you to your core. It felt like a white hot fire that could rival a thunder bolt from Thor.
"Here," Steve left quickly but had returned just as fast with a hot water bottle and with Natasha's help rolled you a bit so he could place it along your back where the spasm had been. She moved to sit in front of you not blocking your view of the TV. Steve gently placed your legs in his lap not resting any weight on your legs having had the painful childhood memories to let him no better than that.
The three knew most likely you would be some what back to normal tomorrow. As normal as your chronic pain management had gotten you to be "normal". In the mean time they wanted to be near in case you needed anything. Just them being close enough helped. With Tony still running his hands through your hair, and the warmth of Steve and Natasha so close you closed your eyes. Drifting off a bit easier. The pain just a bit more muted.
I was disheartened finding there weren’t that many chronically sick reader fics out there. I would like to continue writing sick fics is any one wants to send prompts. Let me know if I should continue to write these.
THERE ARE NO LINE BREAKS NOW? I HAVE NOT POSTED IN YEARS
The cool feeling of the bedroom did nothing to make you feel even remotely better. Your body still ached. Your legs hurt while at the same time they felt restless. Your back ached, you shifted around just trying to get it to pop. Just trying to find some relief at that constant gnawing around your spin. Worst of all the recent change in weather triggered the arthritis in your chest make any type of upper body movement painful. Breathing itself was horrible. You loved the rain, and thought the dark clouds outside the tower looked amazing.
“Friday what time is it," your eyes darted to the ceiling, she may be omnipotent in the tower, but you always looked to the same spot when talking to her.
"It's 3 pm Y/N," her tone sounded as if she was trying to sooth you herself. You sighed heavily. Most of the day was gone, and you barely got out of bed that day. You barely had any energy to take a shower that morning and take some anti-inflammatory meds before you crashed not wanting to deal with that pain. Thank God email existed and vacation time was a thing because you suspected tomorrow might be the same.
"Y/N. Friday said you woke up," Tony popped his head around the door before entering. I grimaced at him as I sat up against the bed frame reaching out to him. He just gave a gentle smile as he moved to kick off his shoes, and gently climbed into the bed with me trying to move into my personal space without jostling me to much.
"I feel like shit. The meds don't seem to help today so that sucks. I'm just happy that work is letting me code from home today," I fix my posture every few seconds trying to find a better angle to make sure that my sternum isn't being compressed to much.
"Here cover up," I pull the cover over him high enough to cover his chest, "I don't know how you're walking around with the crazy storm that came in. I swear if Thor had anything at all to do with this rain I will kick his ass the next time he's in New York."
"Well I will be sure to let him know, but I'm doing ok. The change in atmospheric pressure doesn't affect me to much since years of passing through the atmosphere in the suit helped me acclimate a lot more easily. It's the change in temperature that will suck come winter." I couldn't imagine the pain that Tony was going through. I knew my chronic pain was bad, especially during flares, but to imagine what Tony's gone through in the cave, through the superhero-ing. He was so much stronger than anyone gave him credit for.
"What are you thinking about ache and shake," Tony noticed you had begun to daydream a bit. I laughed loving how he could distract me with his wit.
"Just how lucky I am to be with someone who understands," I grabbed his hand and held it tight, just wanting to be closer to him. He lifted our interlocked hands and kissed the back of mine.
"Are you warming up," I asked. I think that's why we did so well together, one of the many reasons. Because I cared for him just as much as he cared for me.
"I am positively toasty. Fri let's get a movie playing before we order in for dinner. That sound good love?" Tony looked back at me with those warm eyes that felt playful and caring. When ever I was with Tony I felt like I could breath again, and that in itself meant more to me than anyone could understand. Anyone except for Tony.
You were cuddled up to Loki on the couch, idly watching mindless reality TV with him - something called The Great British Bake Off that Loki had at first snubbed, but now adored, making comments such as “Imbecile. Why would you enter such a contest without first becoming adept at a creme patissiere?” when he patted your back lightly, pulling you from your daze. “Kitten?”
“Hmm?” you hummed, too content and comfortable to lift your cheek from where it rested against his solid chest. You loved the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.
His heart raced just a bit faster beneath you. “Would you accompany me on my journey to Asgard this coming Saturday?”
You pushed yourself up off of him with a hand on his chest, blinking up at him. He regarded you with a practiced indifference that you knew was false, going by the tension around his eyes and his quickened breathing moving him beneath your palm. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Thor and I are due for our yearly visit to discuss diplomatic affairs with the Allfather. It would please me greatly if you accompanied me.”
The Allfather. His father. Odin. Ruler of basically everything you knew existed. No big deal. Stifling the rising anxiety bubbling within you, you managed a nod, trying to mirror his air of fake calm. “Oh. Well. Sure. When you put it like that.”
~~~
What exactly did you wear to meet interplanetary royalty? Loki had said that he and Thor were both wearing their leather armor, but it wasn’t like you had a set of chainmail in your closet to pull out for just this occasion. Why didn’t Macy’s have a section for meeting the terrifying and intimidating parents of your boyfriend who just so happened to be alien royalty? You guessed it’d be a pretty niche range.
When Loki strolled into your open bedroom door, looking every bit the Prince he was in his well-fitted and oiled leathers, cape dramatically flowing behind him as if he had magicked it that way - he easily could have, the insufferable show-off - you felt even more woefully inadequate. How was your choice of a flowing skirt and smart but comfortable blouse supposed to match up to that?
He sauntered up behind you and settled a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it softly as he took in the unmatched picture you both made in the mirror. “Ready to depart?”
Leaning back against him lightly, you reached up and settled your hands over his. “Do I look okay?”
“Exquisite as always,” he smiled, resting his chin on top of your head. “Perhaps one more thing…”
He gestured a long-fingered hand and your blouse became emerald silk, trimmed with black. “My colours. So everyone can be sure….”
You arched a brow, asking sarcastically, “That I belong to you?”
“It’s I who belongs to you,” he said solemnly, then kissed your forehead. “You look exceedingly lovely.”
“Oh, good. I figured you were going to say I looked like an anxious ball of nerves, because that’s certainly how I feel.” The try at humor was hollow, as was the laugh that forced itself through your twisted lips.
He extracted himself from you and lead you out into the hallway of your apartment building, your hand held firmly in his. “You have nothing to fear.”
You rolled your eyes. “Easy for you to say. I don’t know if you realize it, but meeting the mother of your significant other is already stressful enough when they’re just normal people.”
“And my mother is not?” he asked, unperturbed.
“Queen Frigga, the Allmother?” You shivered as you stepped out into the chilly wind, waving faintly at Thor as he pushed off of where he had been leaning against your building. “She could order me wiped off the face of the Earth and nobody would bat a single eyelash.”
A fierce protective look crossed Loki’s face as he pulled you into the alley beside your building. His hands settled on your upper arms and he stooped down to look into your eyes. “She would not dare. I wouldn’t allow it.”
He did sound a little like a petulant child just then and you stifled a laugh. Judging by the cough from Thor behind you, he found it funny, too.
The golden prince stepped up on your other side, shooting you an easy smile that didn’t seem fitting when he was dressed to take on an army. His own armor suited him, enhancing the breadth of his shoulders and making you feel incredibly tiny in comparison. Although you had that feeling any time you were around either of the Odinson siblings, for different reasons. “She will adore you, as we do.”
You gave a noncommittal grunt, knowing that they would never understand your fears. They had been raised to know their importance in life, to feel nothing but confident in where they stood in the grand scheme of things. Even though Loki’s had been shaken recently, he still acted as if he believed himself royalty, and he was, just maybe not in the sense that he had believed for centuries. It bolstered a bit of your courage, but only just.
How much could either brother really protect you if Odin decided that he was tired of his sons bringing mortal women before him as their selected romantic partner?
“Were you this worried upon meeting my brother and myself?” Loki asked, pulling you from your thoughts as he gathered you into his arms, holding you securely to his front.
You propped your chin up on his chest to look at him, tangling your fingers in the soft yet strong, heavy fabric of his cape. “Nope. You guys don’t count.”
The look of shocked confusion, and then a little offense, on his face made you bite your lip to stifle your laughter. Again. “I beg your pardon?”
Your answering laughter could surely be heard for miles over the din of the bustling city streets. Patting his back consolingly, you turned to Thor after you shot a searching glance around your small group. “Is Jane coming with us?”
He crossed his arms over his barrel-sized chest and shook his head with an answering frown. “Unfortunately not. She claimed she was much too busy working on her latest research, and I was not foolish enough to attempt to pry her away from it. You will be the only mortal accompanying us today.”
“Lucky me,” you deadpanned.
“Let us not keep mother and father waiting any longer,” Loki drawled, ending your conversation with Thor. He moved one hand to splay across the back of your head, cradling it against him while the other anchored your hips to his. “Hold tight to me and close your eyes, kitten.”
“Heimdall, bring us home!” The brothers called in unison.
Just before you closed your eyes, light flashing in all the colors of the rainbow surrounded you. Your fingers dug into Loki’s back, and the roar in your ears could have been your blood pounding in your veins or your bodies as you flew through the BiFrost. You managed to open your eyes for just a second, catching a glimpse of a beautiful black and dark blue sky, dotted with stars and peppered with planets.
And then the ground was solid beneath your feet, and Loki’s strong arms around you were all that kept you from stumbling at the suddenness of it.
“You are late.”
The voice, deeply accented just like Thor and Loki’s, drew your eyes to a giant of a man, dark-skinned with almost unnatural yellow-brown eyes. It felt like he was staring right into your soul with those eyes, but the unnerving effect was softened by the smile he gave you as you detangled yourself from Loki’s embrace.
He bowed his head slightly to you in greeting before gesturing to a pair of horses just outside of the beautiful golden dome that you found yourself in. “Your horses are waiting for you, as requested. The Allfather and Allmother can be found in the throne room. And milady?”
You remembered to pick up your jaw from the floor to turn your attention back to him, having lost yourself in absorbing every detail of your love’s home that you could. From the rippling rainbow of the BiFrost where the - thankfully - normal looking horses waited, to the clear and deep blue water rushing beneath it, to the expansive city of stone and gold beyond it, and finally, to the gleaming castle in the distance, dominating the skyline.
Unbroken edited by Marieke Nijkamp. Rating: 3.4 stars average.
Read from January 1 to January 3.
The first book of the year! I rated each story individually and then averaged out for an overall book rating. I was so excited to pick up a book starring disabled characters. However, a lot of this anthology was what I call “Inspiration Porn.” I wanted to see characters with disabilities living their lives and I got a lot of stories about how they “overcome” their disabilities to do what able-bodied people do on a daily basis. The story that got the highest rating from me was “Dear Nora James, You know Nothing About Love” by Dhonielle Clayton at 4.5 stars. The lowest rated story was “A Play in Many Parts” by Fox Benwell at 1.75 stars.
It was great to see so many stories with disabled characters especially since they’re all Own Voices by the authors. However, I felt like a few were trying way too hard (i.e. “A Play in Many Parts”) or were like I said “Inspiration Porn” (I.e. “Britt and the Bike God”). I struggled with this collection because I didn’t want to see Inspiration Porn that appeals to able-bodied people so they can feel good about themselves. I feel like I’m definitely not explaining this part well at all.
It was a good start to my reading year and I enjoyed so many of these stories. I just wish there had been more stories about living life with a disability and less about “overcoming.” I think it’s a collection that a lot of people should read.
Note: photo is from my Instagram page--LibertyReads789
