#Stumbling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nonbinairyboi · 3 months ago

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Summary: Frankie’s support is necessary when your symptoms flare.

Written for @cosmic-kid-in-motion / @romanarose Disability Visibility Event

Shoutout to @joelmillerisapunk and @probablyreadinsmut for helping me with the graphics when I got insecure

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x disabled! afab reader (no pronouns used)

Word Count: ~2.5

A/N: May or not be based on real life with the substitution of Frankie for my partner (which should show you how amazing my partner is). I was diagnosed with EDS and later POTS so this is my experience. Others may have different experiences :) all are valid

Tags/Warnings: Disabled!reader, Reader has POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) or ME/CFS (Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) since they can have similar symptoms I am leaving it up to y’all, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Brief Smut, Cozy Fluff, Let me know if I missed something

Main Masterlist | Read on AO3

Stumbling

A small smile crept over your face as the open window blew the curtain, widening the stream of lazy sunlight falling onto Frankie’s messy curls, making his eyebrows scrunch as the light hit his eyes.

You clapped your hand over your mouth to try and cover the sleepy giggles his distress prompted out of you. His mouth formed into a forced exaggerated pout before a smirk overtook his features, matching your goofy expression as he cracked open his eyes.

“Morning, baby.” You said.

Frankie’s groan turned into a whine as he stretched before he curled himself into you, nestling his nose into your neck.

“Mmmm.” You exclaimed, curling yourself around him as his hand snaked its way under your shirt, cupping your breast and squeezing.

Your fingers curled into his hair as you hooked your leg around him to pull him closer, feeling his hardness press against you through your sweatpants.

“Take a shower with me?” He asked, nipping at your earlobe playfully.

“Is that a hint about how I smell?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows and looking down at him.

His soft laugh filled the room as he lightly ran his hands down your ribs and dug his fingers in as you squirmed away.

“It was more about me, but… if the shoe fits.” He grinned into your shoulder, kissing the skin peeking out of your top.

Shoving his shoulder, you rolled on top of him and pinned his arms above his head briefly as you leaned in and captured his lips before scrunching your nose and pulling back.

“Toothpaste?” You suggested.

“Toothpaste.” Frankie confirmed, smacking your ass as you clumsily climbed off of him and headed for the bathroom, turning on the shower before grabbing both of your toothbrushes and getting them ready.

He joined a moment later with fresh towels, hanging them up in preparation as you both brushed your teeth together. Your eyes met in the mirror, the intimacy scrunching lines around your eyes in happiness.

Stepping into the shower, you hissed at the temperature, reaching out to adjust it as Frankie slid in behind you. The week had been stressful and exhausting but feeling him crowd behind you made all of that take a backseat. As he tried to shuffle you around to get some water, you lightly smacked his shoulder.

“Let me do a twirl first.” You said, a goofy grin lighting up his face as you did just that, spraying him with water as your head tilted.

“Ok, ok, my turn.” He insisted, moving you to the side.

As soon as he submerged himself fully, you grabbed him, pulling him towards you and molding your lips to his, sloppily kissing as the water came down around you.

His hands skimmed your sides, greedily palming your breasts as you grabbed his hips, pulling them towards you, a low groan forced out of his throat at the contact. Frankie placed open mouthed kisses down your jaw to the base of your throat.

A strange feeling of nausea passed through you as he did it, but you pushed it down, determined to focus on the other sensations he was causing as your bodies slipped against each other in the rising heat of the shower.

His fingers slipped between you, parting your folds and moaning at the wetness there. You squealed as he pushed your back flush with the cold tile.

“Sorry baby” he mumbled as he turned the shower head towards the wall in an attempt to warm up the wall.

His fingers were insistent, rubbing you just right before impatiently pushing inside, a choked noise escaping his throat at your drawn out moan.

The sensations overwhelmed you but you convinced yourself that it was just the unfiltered need building inside, pushing away his hand and bringing him closer, your leg hiked over his hip, opening you to him, both of you breathily moaning as he pushed inside.

Your breaths turned ragged as he continued, both of you kissing each other desperately.

You suddenly became uncomfortably aware of the feelings building in your body that you had been trying to ignore. The heat of the room was crawling up your body heavily. His body against yours was suddenly a too-heavy weight against your chest, your heart rate skyrocketing in a decidedly non-sexy way. Your vision started to swim with dark spots as you pushed him away, gasping for breath.

“Baby, I don’t feel good. I need to lie down.” You gasped out frantically.

You saw his face twist into concern in an instant, his erection taking a backseat as his eyes searched yours.

“I need to wash my hair first, but I need to do it fast.” You rushed out.

He looked sceptical but nodded quickly, handing you the shampoo before grabbing your body wash. As you messily scrubbed the product into your scalp, he rubbed you down with suds, the sexual tension sucked from the room despite his palms caressing you with efficiency.

“Armpits, please. Quickly.” You gasped as your limbs began to feel like weights, wanting to pull you to the floor.

He quickly helped you lift your arms and lather you up before helping you into the spray to wash you off. Attempting to quell the pull of the floor, you squeezed your eyes shut but it seemed to only enhance the feeling.

“Ok, ok, let me out, I need to go.” You said, pushing past him.

He tried to help you, wrapping his arms around you to stabilize you, but you pushed him away, blind to the helpless defeat on his face.

“It’s making it worse. I just need to lay down.” You insisted, grabbing a towel and throwing it on the ground before sinking to your knees on top of it, laying yourself fully flat on your stomach as the room tilted around you.

“Baby, go to the bed!” He pleaded, stepping out of the shower.

“Can’t make it right now. I just need a second,” you panted, “Just finish your shower please. PLEASE.”

You heard him suck in a breath, but you could only focus on leveling your breathing as you felt him lay another towel on top of you before retreating. The spots in your vision reminded you of the children’s book “The Big Orange Splot”. It was an unhelpful analogy as the ‘splots’ were black and numerous and no kids were around, but it was the only thought that was running through your frantic brain at the moment. The weight on your chest had reached new heights and each breath was a struggle with your racing heart.

Squeezing your eyes shut again, consciousness slowly began to fully envelop you, red hot embarrassment crawling up your spine.

What the fuck was wrong with you? You had felt better for over a year, and yet here you were, sprawled on the floor, butt-ass naked, shaking slightly as your boyfriend tried to finish his shower with the blue balls you had just given him.

“Will you help me dry my hair when you’re done?” You asked weakly from the floor.

“I can, baby, but I think maybe you should just lay down on the bed.” He said tentatively.

“I’m starting to feel a bit better. I think I could sit in the chair. Please, I’m sorry.”

“Of course, baby. You don’t need to be sorry.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s my fucking fault. I should have known. You’ve been saying you haven’t been feeling well. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” You mumbled, feeling useless.

You fought the tears beginning to sting in your eyes. Hearing the water shut off, you pushed yourself onto your knees into a sloppy child’s pose, trying to regain your equilibrium.

“Don’t get up to fast, I’ll be right there.” You heard through the curtain.

Suddenly desperate to prove your independence, you stood shakily, wrapping the towel around you as you stumbled out of the room. Drying yourself off, you grabbed a shirt and underwear, shrugging into them before collapsing into the plush chair at your desk. Frankie joined you a minute later, pulling on boxers before plugging in your hairdryer. Before turning it on, he pulled your chin towards him, forcing you to meet his eyes. You hoped the glassy look had faded slightly, holding back tears again as you saw the openness in his eyes.

“I’m ok.” You said quietly, letting your gaze fall to your lap.

Frankie took his time, cradling your neck as he dried your hair for you, tilting you the way he needed you as you let your eyes slip closed.

Once he was satisfied, he turned off the hairdryer, running his hand down the side of your face. You smiled lightly before getting up, leaning in for a quick peck before lowering yourself onto the bed. Hiding your face in the pillow, you decided that you could give yourself some grace and not force yourself to face the reality that your symptoms were flaring and here to stay for the foreseeable future.

“I’ll be right back.” Frankie murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of your head on his way out of the room.

Laying still, you tried to breathe deeply without triggering more tears as your mind spiraled. You loved Frankie, but relying on Frankie for your every need made you feel useless.

Gaining back your independence over the last few years had felt like screaming and clawing your way to the top of the steepest cliff only to find out it was just a low ledge of a much bigger mountain. The idea of sliding back down made your lip start trembling and your eyes water. You bit down on your lower lip, hoping to stop the inevitable flood from escaping.

Frankie was sweet, but everyone got tired. He might grow fatigued. Your health affected his life so centrally. It made it so that it was hard for you to support him if his health, mental or physical, took a turn, which made you feel like the shittiest partner. He could grow to resent you, even if that wasn’t his intention.

Your thoughts were tearing down the levy you had tried to build, more tears springing to your eyes and making your nose scrunch. Hastily, you turned on your side away from the door, hoping to quell the emotional wave before Frankie came back and saw your face.

He was somehow blaming himself despite the fact that you had been enthusiastic and had wanted to shower with him. If he saw you cry, he might feel worse and you couldn’t put that on him.

On top of the out-of-body vertigo-like feeling you were having, your head had begun to have a deep throbbing sensation and your joints pulsed with an ache that didn’t budge as you tried to contort yourself into different positions.

Your breath was still hard to catch as your heart fluttered, beating out of rhythm uncomfortably. Time seemed to simultaneously speed up and slow down, leaving you disoriented as your eyes tried to focus separately like futuristic binoculars. A deep seductive fatigue settled over you, but you were too uncomfortable to give in.

You lost your sense of time, snapped back to the present only with the squeaking of your bedroom door.

Frankie emerged, letting your cat, Pilot, in with him. Your eyes were still focused on the ceiling as he placed a few items on the bed beside you.

“I want you to drink that Gatorade baby. And eat these pickles for the salt. I have water for later too, ok?” Frankie said.

A new wave of tears washed over you at the gesture. You fucked up his morning and yet here he was beside you, thinking of everything.

“Thank you, baby.” You breathed, trying to calm your breath again before turning over. You sipped the Gatorade slowly, focusing on Frankie’s big brown eyes as they roamed over you with concern. You braced yourself for the taste-clash of the sugary drink and the salty pickles and were surprised when you realized that the sugar hadn’t really registered and that the salt of the pickles simply seemed to quell a strange thirst within you without grossing you out with the switch of taste.

Draining the last of your drink, you settled yourself onto your back as Frankie cleared everything away. Four heavy paws padded their way onto your chest, making you groan. How did every cat have a radar for exactly where your nipples were and just HAD to step right on them? Your irritation quickly faded as Pilot settled on your chest, the real-life weight of him starting to calm the frantic intangible one you had been feeling before.

You felt the bed dip with Frankie’s body as he snuggled close to you, his arm laying lightly across you as he stroked Pilot’s fur.

“I’m feeling a little better now,” you murmured, “just kinda fatigued.”

“Rest, baby. We have nothing to do today. We can just lay here.” Frankie muttered, kissing your cheek softly.

“You should still go see the boys today, I just might need to stay home.” You stated, not wanting to be the cause of Frankie missing a meet up that had already been delayed.

“I’ll think about it. Just lay here with me now. It’ll be ok.”

Frankie’s words lulled you slowly back to a lazy rest.

You spent the day lazily by his side before you forced him to go and hang with the boys for at least an hour, content with your view of him getting dressed.

“I’ll be back soon.” He promised, his hands carding through your hair before he leaned on to kiss your forehead.

“Don’t rush. I’ll probably be napping anyway.” You assured him.

As soon as he left, you sat up to drink some of the water he had left you before sinking back down into the mattress and pulling a slightly disgruntled Pilot close to you to curl up with.

You let yourself slowly slip into a hazy nap, consciousness coming and going in rhythmic spurts.

The sleepiness of the day had started to abate as the afternoon crept along, and you were about to reach for your phone when you heard the front door open, a smile overtaking your face at the sound.

“Did you have fun?” You asked when Frankie finally appeared.

“Mmm,” he grunted, settling in close to you, making you giggle.

He updated you on the latest antics of Will, Ben and Santi, your smile growing as you saw his own smile bloom retelling the stories.

Your hand began slowing scratching across his chest instinctually when he was done. Hiking your leg over him, you pulled him closer and started kissing his neck, a low groan escaping him.

Your hands became more insistent, the need from the morning still burning under your skin.

“I want to, baby, but I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” He said breathily.

“I’m feeling better now,” you whined, “plus, we won’t be standing up.”

Frankie rolled over to look into your eyes, assessing your truthfulness. You saw his eyes darken once they’d found their answer.

“Ok baby,” he growled, rolling on top of you, “you just lie there and let me do all the work. Let me take care of you.”

You squealed as he leaned in and nipped at your neck and rolled his hips.

You knew he’d always take care of you.