#chronically ill!reader

Unfortunately, I have a cabin full of siblings.

"Hey." That's Will, and I crack my eyes open in a halfhearted glare. He gives me a sympathetic smile. "Not so good?"

"Awful," I mutter, dragging myself upright and raking a hand over my face.

Will rubs my shoulder and offers a tiny corner of ambrosia. As tempting as it is, I shake my head; ambrosia overdose is a very real thing, I've discovered from personal experience, and I'd rather save it for when I really need it.

He nods in understanding, and helps me out of bed. "Fine, but don't be a martyr. When you start hobbling, I'm forcing you to have something."

Some of the others pass us by, hovering their hands rather than actually trying to touch me without permission. That does earn a little bit of a smile at how lucky I am to have a family that understands me.

"Why did dad have to nerf me," I mutter, sitting down at the table and bending forward to rest my forehead against the surface. "Someone do my offering for me, I can't get back up now I'm here."

Will pats my head, and not so subtly takes my temperature from the back of my neck. "I got it, just try not to pass out, okay?"

He gets a thumbs up and my plate. I remain firmly in my place, waiting for the headache to ease up. I can feel the moment Will scrapes my offering into the brazier because the pressure leesens on my skull and I get the feeling that dearest dad is apologising in my aura.

Relief sags my shoulders and I'm able to sit up straight, thanking Will as he brings my plate back to me. "Thanks, I feel better. Well. I feel less shit."

"Good," he hums, sitting next to me. "But seriously, if you don't take care of yourself before you fall over today, I'm telling Chiron.

"Don't you dare," I grin, nudging his shoulder with mine as I take a bite of breakfast. "I'm already in trouble for not realising when I dislocated my knee."

Okay, being chronically fucked up sucks, especially when your dad is the god of healing, but hey, at least that same dad gave me a bunch of siblings to threaten me with godly painkillers.

You wheel across the room to Bucky's side. He grabs the frame of your chair, pulling closer. He's so gentle as he pulls your legs up into his leg and starts massaging your calves.

"What's up, sweetness?"

"Well, I w-wanted to ask you about something- or to help me with something I guess. And you can totally say no, I just-"

"Breathe," Bucky chuckles.

"Sorry," You mumble, flushing crimson.

"Just say it, baby. There's nothing to be embarrassed about,"

You take a deep breathe, bracing yourself.

"Well, I've been wanting to try something. In the bed room. And I was wondering if you could help me...be able to do it," You stammer.

Bucky's eyes flicker with interest, and his hands move up your legs, brushing your thighs.

"Do tell,"

"It's a new position,"

"Out with it, princess. You're killing me here,"

"I wanna be on top,"

Bucky stop, tilting his head to the side.

"That's it?"

You blush harder.

"You're right, it's silly-"

"No, no, baby, it's not still, I was just expecting something super kinky or scandalous with how you were talking about it,"

"Well, the...well, mechanics of you, just...I was hoping you could help me ride Steve," you say, squeezing our eyes shut in embarrassment.

"Oh, sweet girl,"

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Of course, baby. You want me to help you bounce of Stevie's cock? I got you, babygirl,"

Your eyes go wide and jaw slack at his dirty words.

"I-I didn't know if it'd be weird to ask you, cause of course I wanna...do you too, I just thought you might be-"

Bucky interrupts you with his lips. You can feel him smirking into the kiss.

"Shhhh, stop stressing luv," he mumbles against your lips.

Your brain starts to go hazy, and you have to focus.

"Sorry. I just w-wanna figure this out before Steve gets home," you pant.

"Of course. What can I do to help you, luv? Obviously I can be behind you and hold those pretty hips, lift you up and down on his cock,"

Bucky says the words so casually, like he isn't talking about fucking you on his best friend's cock. Bucky and Steve are also dating, but it's still weird to hear.

"I'm just a little scared of It hurting my legs, so I don't know how long I can...stay like that. And if I start feeling sick, or pass out-"

"I've got you, babe. You might be a cowgirl tonight, but this isn't my first rodeo. We're pros at handling this stuff, you don't have to worry about it,"

"I just..." you bite you lip, looking down, 'I want it to be good,"

Bucky pulls you fully into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

"I will be, baby. And if it doesn't work out, or it's too painful, we can just change position. It is an honor to be intimate with you, any position, any way, and day. We love you, angel,"

"I love you too," you smile into his chest.

"And, you don't have to worry about it lasting too long, cause Steve is gonna bust a nut the second he sees you bouncing on his cock," Bucky chuckles.

You giggle, shoving Bucky playfully.

Steve arrives home to a quiet house and a note to go to the bedroom. He doesn't think anything of it. It abnormal for the three of you to spend the evenings cuddled in bed on your higher pain days.

"Hello, my darlings," Steve calls.

"Hurry up, old man!" Bucky responds.

Steve rolls his eyes and pushes the bedroom door open. The two of you are cuddled up on the bed, you laying between Bucky's legs with the blankets pulled up to your chin.

"I missed you," Steve smiles, not clarifying which one of you, because it's both.

Steve climbs on the bed, pecking both you your lips before flops down next to you.

"I missed you too," you respond, voice breathily.

"What have you two done tonight?" Steve asks.

Bucky looks down at you expectantly.

"Yeah, baby, what have we been doing?"

Steve looks at you closer, noting your flushed cheeks and the way your keep squirming. Then he catches Bucky's arm moving under the sheet.

Steve throws back the blankets.

"Fucking hell,"

You're wearing a little blue, lacy babydoll, the sheer fabric doing nothing to hide your peaked nipples, Your legs are parted, exposing your drenching pussy. Your drenched pussy that Bucky Is currently three fingers deep in, thrusting leisurely.

"She's been such a good girl, Steve, waiting for you to cum,"

"Oh really? My poor baby," Steve croons, moving between you legs to get a better view.

"I've been stretching her out for your cock," Bucky smirks, thrusting into you faster, "Per her request of course,"

"You look like a fucking treat, baby," Steve moans, brushing your flushed cheek.

"Please," you whine, shifting your hips.

"Has Sir been mean? Stretching out that pretty cunt and not letting you cum?"

"Uh huh," you nod, bucking your hips.

"Brat," Bucky scolds, pinching your clit.

You cry out, gripping Bucky's wrist.

"Let me make you feel good too, angel,"

Steve drops his head between you legs, finding your clit with his mouth immediately. You cry out, the combination of his sucking on your clit and the stretch of Bucky's thick fingers overwhelming you.

"I'-I'm- fuck Steve please let me cum!" You cry out, lacing your fingers in Steve's hair.

Steve hums, flicking his tongue against your swollen clit. He pats your thigh and points at Bucky, signalling you need to ask him.

"Please, sir, can I please cum? I've been a good girl!" You beg.

"Go ahead," Bucky nods, massaging his fingers relentlessly into your g-spot.

You cum with a cry, white spots erupting in your vision. The world spins as aftershocks ripple through you, and you have to rest your head back on Bucky's chest.

Bucky slides his fingers out out of your pulsing heat, bringing them up to his lips to suck clean. Steve takes advantage of the vacant real estate, lapping against your dripping hole.

"Fuck, Steve," you whine, tugging his head up.

Steve's lips are smeared with his juices. He moves up your body to kiss you, but Bucky grabs his chin to stop him. You squeeze your thighs together as Bucky pulls his mouth to him, licking your juices off his face.

"Can't let any go to waste," Bucky chuckles.

Steve rolls his eyes, moving to kiss you again. You grip the collar of his shirt as he explores your mouth. You whine is disappointment as Bucky pulls him off you.

"Strip, and lay down on the bed," Bucky orders.

"Yes sir," Steve chuckles mockingly, climbing off the bed.

Bucky reaches out and slaps his ass, the sound echoing through the room.

"I wasn't planning on fucking that tight ass of yours raw tonight, but that can be arranged,"

"Don't threaten me with a good time," Steve smirks, tossing his tie and shirt to the ground.

You squirm in Bucky's arm as Steve takes off his slacks and boxers. His cock is already hard, popping up against his abdomen and leaking pre cum.

"Like what you see, princess?" Steve asks, climbing back on the bed.

You nod, not taking your eyes off his cock.

"Focus, babygirl," Bucky says, using his grip under you arms to hall you up to straddle Steve's bare thighs.

Bucky moves behind you, pressing against your back. He braces one arm around your waist, the other rubbing your left knee, which is most likely to cause you pain.

You're wearing both compression socks and compression sleeves on your knees, but dull pain still throbs through you legs. But the throbbing between your legs overpowers that in your legs.

"What are you two up too?" Steve asks, propping up on his elbows.

Bucky nudges you, making it clear that you'll have to do the talking.

"I wanna ride your cock," you say, with more I confidence then earlier.

Bucky had spent the evening stretching you out with his fingers and forcing you to talk about how bad you wanna to take Steve like this, so the words roll off your tongue easily.

"Fuck, baby," Steve groans, his cock twitching.

"Is-would that be okay?" You ask nervously.

"Hell yeah," Steve smiles, leaning back like a man in paradise, "As long as this isn't gonna hurt you,"

"Umm, Bucks gonna help with that,"

"Yeah, let me worry about that, princess, you just worry about taking Stevie's cock," Bucky purrs in your ear.

Bucky's metal arm is cool against your skin as he using his grip around your waist to lift you over Steve's cock. He scoots forward so he's straddling Steve's thighs, getting a better position.

You grip his arm, fingers going white against the metal. His arm presses your soft breasts up, and Steve licks his lips at the sight.

"You ready, baby?" Bucky asks, using his other hand to line Steve's cock up with your entereance.

Steve moans at the contact, fighting the urge to buck up into your pussy and Bucky's hand.

"Please, need it," you beg.

"You ready?" Bucky smirks at Steve, allowing your dropping pussy to brush his tip.

"Fuck you," Steve hisses behind his teeth.

"That's the plan," Bucky chuckles, lower you down.

You cry out as the first inch slides in. His cock in hot and thick, stretching your sensitive cunt. Bucky continues lowering your slowly until you're halfway down.

"Wait, just gimme a sec," you pant, the stretfh burning through you, "God, you're so big like this"

"You're doing so perfect, darling," Steve praises, rubbing your thighs. They're already shaking despite Bucky holding the majority of your weight, "Taking my cock like a fucking champ,"

"Color?" Bucky asks.

"Green,"

"Do we need to change positions?"

"No, please, I can take more," you whine, grinding down into Steve's cock.

Steve's cock twitches inside you at the movement, and his hand momentarily tighten on your thighs.

"Okay princess, just let me know," Bucky soothes, lowering you down another inch.

You moan as Steve's cock fills you deeper than you thought possible in this position. By the time your pelvis is full with him, you're sweating and panting.

"Fuck, Stevie, you're so big," you whine, leaning back further into Buckys comforting presence.

"Shhh, baby, his ego can't take anymore praise," Bucky chuckles, snaking his free hand around to circle your clit.

The stimulation eases the sting, leaving only overwhelming fullness and pleasure. You moan rocking your hips forward and gasping and the pleasure that zaps through you at the movement.

"You're killing me, darlin'" Steve groans, struggling to hold himself back at the gorgeous picture you paint and the throbbing of your tight pussy.

"How's this feel, baby?" Bucky asks.

"Good," you moan, "so good,"

"How are your legs?" Steve asks.

"Starting to go numb, you better fuck me fast," you joke breathily.

Numb isn't quite the right words for the pins and needles shooting through your legs but you're not gonna say that. Not when you're already so close to your climax just from how deep Steve's cock is inside you.

"Hold on tight then, princess,"

Bucky slips his hands under your babydoll, gripping your bare hips. He slowly raises you halfway off Steve's cock before allowing you to fall back down. You keen forward as the movement rubs against every sensitive spot inside you

Steve hands shoot out to catch you. He moves his hands to right above Bucky's. Bucky slowly fucks you on a Steve's length, pleasure shooting through your stomach and clit with every thrust.

"More. Faster, please," you mewl.

"Mmm, you need to be fucked faster on his fat cock? Greedy girl," Bucky growls in your ear, lifting your hips and slamming you back down faster.

"Fuck, just like that! Love your cock, Steve," You squeal, gripping Steve's forearms to ground yourself.

Bucky's cock is hard against your ass as he pants in your ear. You know there'll be bruises on your hips and knees by morning, but you don't care.

You let out a pained keening noise as pain stabs through your left knee. Bucky stops immediately.

"Nooo, keep going," you whine.

"What's wrong, what hurts?"

"Steve, just hold my left knee,"

Steve's hand shoot out, bracing your patella with firm pressure. You push up weakly, trying to ride his cock.

"Buckyyy pleaseee, need it so bad," you cry, bucking in his grip.

Bucky starts back at a slower pace, kissing up and down you neck. You grab his forearm, marveling at how the muscles contract under your hands.

Steve watches the two of you in awe, fighting to keep his eyes open from how tight you clamp around his cock. Your breasts bounce deliciously, your whole body beading with sweat.

"Doesn't she look pretty like this, Steve? Tapped between us, bouncing on your cock like a fucking champ," Bucky coos, grinding his cock against your ass.

You buck back into Bucky, whining as it changes the angle of Steve's cock inside you.

"So. Love having her tits in my face as she rides me like a good girl,"

"I'm close," you pant, world growing foggier the closer your orgasm looms.

"Come on, babygirl, come on my cock like a good girl. Need to feel your pretty cunt milking me,"

You throw you head back on Bucky's shoulder as Steve starts circling your clit. Bucky speeds up again, dangling you over the edge.

"Fuck, please!" You cry, not sure what you're begging for.

"Cum," Bucky growls in your ear.

Your high pitched moans and pants full the room as your climax rips you apart. Pleasure sparks through your whole body, and your back arches, only pressing Steve deeper.

"Stevie, inside. Come inside me. Need it," you babble through the aftershocks.

Steve struggles to buck up into you, unable to fully with Bucky's weight pinning his thighs to the bed.

"You take control," Bucky orders, moving Steve's hands where his were and climbing off his thighs.

You whine at the loss of Bucky behind you. But he presses against your side, finally ripping your babydoll off.

Steve plants his feet into the matewss, bringing you down in his cock with every buck of his hips. You keen forward at the overwhelming sensations. Bucky starts tweaking you exposed nipples.

"Fuck I'm cumming," Steve groans.

The combination of Steve's hot cum filling you and Bucky's you're of your nipples sends you into another orgasm. Bucky holds up your limp body.

"such a good little cum slut," Bucky croons, gently pulling you off Steve's length.

Cum drips down your thighs as Bucky lays you down in the bed. You snuggle into Bucky's arms, reaching for Steve but finding the bed empty.

"He'll be right back, luvie," Bucky promises, "He's just getting something to clean up your sloppy little pussy,"

You hum at his filthy words, eyelids dropping. You don't realize Steve is back until something cool is wiping between your legs. You clamp your thighs shut around his hand.

"Easy, tiger, I'm just cleaning you up," Steve chuckles, nudging your thighs back open.

After he finished, Steve joins your tangle of limbs in the bed. Just as you're getting comfortable, Bucky slides out.

"Nooo, where are you going now?"

That's when you notice a wet spot at the front of Bucky's shorts.

"Did you-"

"Cum in my pants? Yes, angel. What did you think would happen when you were grinding that pretty ass back against me?"

You blush, sinking back in the sheets with an odd feeling of pride.

"So, how was that, baby?" Steve asks

"Really, really good,"

"Rating?" He asks jokingly.

"10/10, would ride again," you laugh.

Steve holds a cup of water to your lips, forcing you to drink and take your meds. When Bucky returns from the bathroom, he's also gotten ice packs for your legs to try and reduce your pain in the morning. They spend the evening cuddling and taking care of you.

A/N: not my best work, but hope you still enjoyed it. Happy pride!!

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@abriefnirvana

"'m fine. Just tired," you lie.

Well, it's not a lie exactly. Tired is actually a weak word for what you are. Your limbs feel weighed down. Your legs are shaking fainting, and you know they'll buckle the second you put weight on them.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed early," you decide, pulling away from Peter's embrace.

"here, I'll walk you," Peter says, jumping up.

Show off you think, knowing how long it will take you to stand.

"That's okay, babe, stay and talk with your friends,"

You grab you navy forearm crutches and gingerly set your legs on the ground. Needles shoot though the bottoms of your feet as you lean forward, shifting weight on them. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself before pushing to your feet.

You wobble on your feet, struggling to find your balance for a moment. Peter grips your waist, steading you. Your face burns hot from the position change and the eyes of the other Avengers on you.

"I've got it. Just got a little dizzy," you choke out through the pain.

You start towards the hallway, biting the inside of your cheek. Your legs ache, feeling like Thor smashed them with his hammer. Your feet drag slightly, and every step is a shaky struggle.

But you push through, fighting to walk as "normally" and fast as you can with the eyes on our.

Your breaths come in ragged, shallow pants by the time you reach the hall. You shoulders relax the second you're outside of eyeshot from the living room.

You slow your pace, moving your crutches forward one at a time before dragging one leg forward. Your knees give out with every step, forcing you to put more and more weight on the crutches. Your muscles shake and twitch, fatiguing quickly.

It happens almost in slow motion. You reach the carpet halfway down the hall. You shift one crutch forward on it, but lean your weight onto it to move the other before it's fully stable.

The rug slides, the crutch bearing most of your weight going with it.

A strangled scream rips from your lips as you tip forward. Your knees slam against the floor, but something catches the back of your shirt, holding up your torso before you can fulling hit the ground.

Peter's arms are around you in a second. He's on the ground, pulling you into his lap- carefully moving your legs for you- and hugging you tightly.

You realize it was one of his webs that caught you. He gently pries your forearm crutches out of your hands, allowing them to clatter to the ground.

You hide your face in the crook of his neck, clinging to him with all your remaining strength.

The dam on the pain you were trying to supress breaks, and you start to cry in pain and embarrassment. Your knees feel like they were shattered, and your legs ache so bad, the press of Peter's jeans under you hurts.

"I've got you, I've got you, I have you baby," Peter mumbles, his tone still rushed and adrenaline seeping through his words. into the top of your breath, "You're safe, I've got you babygirl,"

"I'm sorry," you sob, "I didn't mean to-"

"No, no, sweet girl, I'm sorry," Peter interrupts, "I should have pushed harder. I should have noticed,"

"You weren't supposed to notice," you sniffle, "I didn't want anyone to,"

"Oh luv," he sounds absolutely heartbroken, "How bad is it?"

"'s really bad today," you cry, "I can't- I don't- it's getting bad, Peter,"

"I've got you," Peter repeats, "We'll figure it out, baby,"

You loose track of how long he holds you like that. You crying, him just muttering comforting words into your ear.

"Let's get you to bed, angel," he whispers, effortlessly standing up with you in his arms.

Peter takes you to the bathroom first, setting you down on the toilet. He sets out while you go to the bathroom, keeping the door cracked.

He rushes back as soon as you're done. He takes a moment to check your legs for injuries from your fall. Your knees have started to bruise, but that's the only visible thing despite them feeling like open wounds.

He starts gently pulling your clothes out, lifting your arms and legs for you. You stifle a cry as he pulls your pants off, the fabric scrapping against your skin.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he mutters, pulling of his extra soft t shirts over your head.

That's the only thing he puts you in before picking you up again, carrying you into your shared room.

He sets you down on the bed as carefully as possible before crawling in with you. He settling in bed next to you, pulling the covers over you. Only the silk sheets touch your legs, which feel more like tingling than stabbing your nerves.

"Where's it hurt, baby?" Peter asks gently, cupping your face.

"My legs and my knees and my stomach," you whimper, "Everywhere,"

"Do you need heat or cold?"

"Heat," you respond quickly.

It sounds counterintuitive, with your pain feeling like hot flames. But cold or ice burn your skin hotter than even the pain.

Peter pulls your heating pad out, covering your aching knees with it. He turns it on, and you sign in relief as it starts to heat up. Your legs still ache intensivly, but the heat helps ease the sharpness of the pain in your knees.

"Baby," Peter starts hesitantly, "Have you eaten anything today?"

You bold upright, leaning over the side of the bed as you gag. You dry heave over the empty trashcan- left next to the bed for this every reason. Peter holds your hair/braid/locs away from your face, rubbing circles on your back.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he winces.

"I'm sorry," you whimper, "I can't, hurts too bad, I just can't,"

"I know baby," he sighs, pulling you into his arms as the nausea starts to ease, "I know. I just... You have to eat at some point. Just a little,"

"I can't, Peter," you sniffle, "I don't wanna throw up again, my throat is raw and my stomach hurts just thinking about it.

He's silent for a moment, but rubbing patterns on your back. You can hear his heartbeat under your ear with your head on his chest, it's steady pulse a comfort for you.

"I think you should go back to the doctor,"

"They're not gonna help me. They're just gonna say I'm faking it or exaggerating or just need to exercise more and just eat anyways,"

"no. I'm not gonna let them just ignore you," Peter starts, "We'll take you to Bruce. In the morning. Maybe there's some medicine you can take, or something-"

"Peter," you whisper, "I'm so tired,"

"I know baby. I know. I've got you know. I'm gonna protect you," he whispers.

You sign into his chest.

"You can't baby," you say gently.

He's silent for a moment.

"I hate that I can't protect you for this. From your own body," he admits, "I wish I could take all this from you,"

"I know. God, it's almost like you've got a hero complex," you joke weakly.

Peter's chuckle is strained.

"You can't fix it, but... I don't need you to fix me, just hold me," you says, tears burning your eyes.

"Always," he promises.

You lay in comfortable silence for a while before you break it.

"So. Is it too early to joke that I can't help but fall for you again?"

Functional neurologic disorder (FND) refers to a neurological condition caused by changes in how brain networks work, rather than changes in the structure of the brain itself, as seen in many other neurological disorders. Physical symptoms of FND are genuine but cannot be explained by changes in the brain structure. The exact cause of FND is unknown.

FND symptoms may include:

• Seizure-like episodes (non epileptic seizures) • Short term or long term paralysis of limb (s) • Movement problems • Problems with cognitive function • Dizziness • Speech difficulties, such as sudden onset of stuttering or trouble speaking • Problems with vision or hearing • Pain (including chronic migraine) • Extreme slowness and fatigue • Numbness or inability to sense touch • Dystonia • Bowel and/or bladder dysfunction • Gastrointestinal issues FND is real. FND is valid. FND can be debilitating. FND patient deserve dignity, empathetic healthcare, and resources for quality of life and independence. Resources/more info on FND

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@abriefnirvana

But you push through. At least you try to. Steve has been talking about going to this restaurant for months now. It was a big deal when he secured a reservation, and you don’t want to be the reason he misses it.

Your breath comes in ragged pants as you pull your dress on. The fabric scratches against your skin, feeling like nails. You stifle a whimper as you lean forward to pull it down your torso.

You take a breath to lean your head against your hand, unable to hold it up anymore as you struggle to catch your breath. Your limbs have gone all tingly, and pain shoots through your legs despite them sitting still on your footplate.

You brace yourself for the pain before attempting to wiggle the dress down your hips. The burning in your legs intensifies, and they shake from your attempted movement. “Baby, are you okay?” Steve asks.

Your eyes snap up to see him leaning against the doorframe, already dressed in a button down shirt and slacks.

“Yeah, of course,” you respond, your voice shaky and breathily. You try to force a smile, but it doesn’t convince Steve.

He makes his way over to you, resting one hand on your armrest and stroking your forehead with the other. “You’ve got a fever, luvie,”

You groan. You frequently get fevers when your ME/CFS symptoms flare, an undeniable sign of a crash.

“It’s fine! I’m fine,” you insist.

“We are not going,” Steve states, his voice quiet but firm.

“No, Steve, you’ve waited so long for this and-”

“None of that,” Steve scolds, “You are more important than any stuffy restaurant. And if I’m being honest, I’d rather stay in bed and cuddle with you,”

You know Steve is just trying to make you feel better, and it makes your heart swell. Steve gently grips the hem of your dress, careful to pull the fabric away from your skin as he peels it off. He pulls a pair of silk pajamas out of the closet before unhooking your bra. The act isn’t sexual, but it is heartwarmingly intimate.

You allow Steve to dress you, using those strong hands so gently. He loops one arm under your ass to pull you upright against his chest so he can pull your pants on. You wince against his chest, trying to stifle your sounds of pain and squeezing your eyes shut as everything spins.

“I know, darlin’, I’m sorry,” Steve whispers against your ear.

You reach for your push rims, but Steve reaches the handle bars first. He rolls you into your bedroom and parks your chair next to the bed at a 90 degree angle.

“You ready, baby?” Steve asks gently.

You nod, jaw already clamped shut. Steve sides one arm under your knees, the other around your back, and lifts you effortlessly from your chair.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Steve mumbles at your sharp inhales of pain.

“'S okay,” you grit out as he lays you down gently on the bed.

Steve disappears, and you don’t understand why until the overhead lights go off. You sigh in relief as the throbbing behind your eyes fades slightly.

“Lamp, fairy lights, or no lights?” Steve asks.

“Just one strand of the fairy light, please,”

A faint, warm glow lights the space as Steve plugs them in. It’s enough light for them to see each other's faces in bed, but not enough to burn her eyes.

The mattress sinks to your left, and you roll over to face Steve.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, “I’m sorry,”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Steve responds, laying down next to you while slightly propped up on the pillows.

“Can you hold me, please?” You whimper as the pain continues to rack your body.

“Are you sure, luv? I know you’re hurting and must be hot,”

“Please, I just need you to hold me,” you whisper, “you make it easier,”

Tears prickle Steve's eyes and he opens his arms. You crawl into the, face twitching with pain until you’re settled against his chest. His heartbeat is a comforting pulse under your ear, drowning out the ringing in your brain.

Steve watches as your face starts to relax and you melt into him. He can still see the lines of pain in your expression, and your breath hitches and catches frequently as your body attacks itself.

“My strong girl,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

“Can you talk to me?” You ask against his chest, your words slurring with fatigue and pain.

“About what, angel?”

“Anything. Everything. Something good. You,” You mumble.

“Okay, baby, tap my chest if it’s too much or I need to be quiet,”

Steve whispers in your ear for the rest of the evening. You drift in and out of consciousness, stirring away every so often from the pain before the bone crushing fatigue pulls you back under.

But every time you wake, Steve is still right there. You catch snippets of stories about his time in the army. His life growing up. Missions he’s been on. His dreams for his future with you. Stories other avengers have told you.

He wakes you once, coxing you to take your night meds and slow sips of cold water. Steve unplugs the lights at some point, and you’re grateful as the pressure in your head grows. But his strong arms and gentle words anchor you from sinking fully into the pain. He really is perfect.

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@aagn360

@smromanoff

@fynnwolff

Chronically ill reader specific taglist:

@abriefnirvana