Euphoria (2019—) Created By Sam Levinson

Will this girl ever have peace? Not that she is at peace, trapped in captivity and invalid, but it is impressive how things can get worse for her. I don't know if it's Bucky or Brock, but the Captain has to come back in time to cause a bloody tragedy with this guy, don't mess with his doll, the doll that is injured.

Mission Control 18

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You pant as your body shakes uncontrollably. The pain is unbearable. The monster keeps your foot raised as he wraps a new bandage around it. The throbbing eases slightly though the sting remains. Your screams still echo in your skull. You passed out at least once as he cleaned the wound. 

He pins the dressing and lowers your leg tenderly onto the pillow. He stands and pulls the blanket up to your waist. You catch your breath as you wipe the beads of sweat from your forehead. 

The last day has been torture. You don’t know how much more you can handle. He stares down at you with chagrin woven into his expression. He bows his head and turns sharply. You can do nothing but languish as he stomps around. 

He opens the armoire. You shudder. He takes out black boots and a jacket. He closes it without retrieving the shield or his body armour. 

He comes back to the bed and sits to tie his boots. You push yourself up on your elbows. 

“You’re going somewhere?” You ask. 

He glances at you, then the night stand. He leans over and swipes up the pill bottle. He rattles it. 

“You’re getting more?” You guess. 

He frowns then shakes his head. He looks at the label then once more at you. He points to the bruise around his eye. The one he inflicted himself. 

“Pain killers?” You can’t help the eagerness in your voice. He nods. “Oh, but...” you glance around. He extends two fingers and moves them back and forth quickly. You have to guess again, “you’ll be fast?” 

He confirms again with a tilt of his chin. You lower yourself back to the pillow. He focuses on tying the laces, the leather straining as he does, then rises again. 

He pulls on the coat and leaves the room. You listen for the front door but instead, his footfalls approach once more. He brings in a glass of water and bag of trail mix. He puts them beside the bed and steps back. 

“Thank you,” you utter. 

He twists on his heel and marches out. Despite not wanting to grow used to his place, his staunch lack of response is more and more familiar. At least when he is placid, he is manageable. You only worry about that other side of him. The one even he seems afraid of. 

The front door opens and closes. The wintry air flows through and you slip further beneath the blankets. You shift onto your side and settle in. You can’t sleep any more but you find yourself drifting into a state somewhere between waking and not. A sort of trance that has you etching each knot in the wood walls with your eyes, trying to memorise them all, trying to see faces or fantastical scenes in the dark markings. 

The winds bellow without, beating the walls, whistling and wailing. You fold an arm over your head as the constant nose starts to itch in your ears. You turn onto your back and sit up to have some water. The antibiotics make your stomach heavy. You make yourself eat a handful of nuts. 

The edges of the covered windows soften with the rising darkness. You while away the time by counting the stitches in the trim of the patchy quilt. Fatigue slowly creeps into your eyes. 

Your head begins to droop as you lean back against the bed frame. You’re too lazy to slide down, instead slumping uncomfortably. Your mind sinks into itself as the billowy undertone fades. 

Click. The subtle but decisive noise of the front door rouses you. You blink and rub the sleep from your eyes. You look at the bedroom door expectantly, waiting. 

You can hear footsteps but they don’t come to you. What is he doing? You listen as they pace around; through the front room, slow, measured. Something is different about them. 

You sit up as much as you can and stare at the door. You see the shadow before the stranger. You know by the silhouette it isn’t him. Your eyes flick up to meet the dark pair that come to peer into the bedroom. 

The man’s lips slant as he looks you over. He scoffs as he steps into the room. He nonchalantly walks the parameter as you sit in silent horror. You can tell by his demeanour that he isn’t a friend. Yet how did he find this place? How did he get inside? With all those traps, he wouldn’t just stumble upon you. 

His dark hair is pushed back from his face, a shadowy stubble around his jaw, and his shoulders are broad and set straight. His boots scrape the floor as he goes to the corner and looks down at the shelf. He touches one of the pictures and laughs. 

“Hello?” You croak at last, “who are you?” 

The man turns and chuckles again. He crosses his arms and approaches the bed. You don’t know if you should hope he can save you. The void depths of his eyes is terrifying. There’s no light in them. 

“I should ask you the same,” he sneers. “But I can guess what you are.” He teethes his lip and angles his head arrogantly. “So the automaton found himself a pet. How precious.” 

“Please, I’m not—he took me--” 

You choke on your words as he grabs the blankets and rips them off of you. You squeal and instinctively bend your legs. You press your heels into the bed and roar at the agony it lights in your calf. He tosses the blankets away as he gives another sinister laugh. 

“I don’t care about any of that,” he snarls and reaches for your bandages foot. He latches on and you shriek as he drags you down the mattress. “That... thing doesn’t get toys. So, I’ll just have to break you so he can’t play no longer.” 

You cry out and thrash as the man crawls onto the bed. Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

2x2 | 2x3

The girl has more children with him than years together. I cannot understand the pain of living for so many years with your jailer having to give you children as gifts. Steve is disgusting, old-fashioned, rotten inside and it's absurd to think he actually thinks he's doing the right thing.

In addition, the story is so good and engaging, it leaves a feeling of wanting more. wonderful writing

High Value Hero 8: The Chalet/END

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY

Summary: America’s golden boy, Steve Rogers, doesn’t have the most modern view of women behind closed doors. And the podcasts his buddy Sam has introduced him to don’t help the situation. Unfortunately for you, you catch his eye when you become his next door neighbor.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Relationship: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: No beta reader. This gets…pretty fucking dark, so read the warnings.

Warnings: non-con, smut, misogyny, somnophilia, drugging, stalking, breeding kink, gaslighting, toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, size kink if you squint, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, murder, voyeurism, and a whole host of others that will be added as we go on.

This is a dark fic - so read the damn warnings. YOU are responsible for your own media consumption.

The rest of the holiday was much calmer after Taylor had left. Her fight with Steve left you somewhat shaken. You’d never seen her this unhinged before and to make matters worse she kept calling and texting you. You ignored her for the time being, still upset that she’d caused such a shameful display and attacked Steve.

You tried to push your memories of the fight out of your mind as Steve drove up the winding road to Tony’s ski chalet. The resort was four hours from the nearest city and the house was about three miles from the resort itself. You had gotten lucky that a large snowstorm had dumped a few feet of snow the day before you arrived. The forest surrounding the house was like a winter wonderland and moonlight reflected brightly off of the white snow.

“We’re here!” Steve announced and looked at you.

“I thought you said it was a small chalet.” You gawked at the massive house as you got out of the car.

“Small by Tony’s standards.” He shrugged, “I just texted you the code to the door. How about you head in while I get the bags. It’s freezing out here and I don’t want you catching a cold.”

“You won’t argue with that.” You agreed, shutting the car door and quickly heading inside.

You rubbed your hands together when you entered the house and were relieved to find the heat already on. You looked around the large open floor plan and somehow the chalet seemed even larger on the inside. Despite its somewhat modern style, it still felt cozy on account of its large fireplaces and the warm toned wood. You wandered around, finding your way to the kitchen area and opened the double fridge. It was already stocked with food for your stay and there was more than enough wine for the time you’d be there.

You took off your coat and scarf then grabbed a bottle of red wine. You poured glasses for you and Steve.

“Steve, come here!” You called to him cheerily when you heard him come through the door and wipe his feet on the mat, “We can deal with the bags later.”

“Let me just take them up - “ Steve stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you standing with a glass of wine in the kitchen. He walked up to you and quickly snatched it away.

“Hey! What the hell?” You exclaimed as you reached for it, “Steve, stop playing around!”

“I’m not playing, Y/N.” He snapped at you and looked at you sternly, “You shouldn’t be drinking when you’re – when you’re sick.”

“I’ve just been a little nauseated lately. That’s all, but I feel fine today.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself, “You still puked yesterday, Y/N.” He responded with concern, “It’s at least two hours to the nearest real hospital. You’d have to get medevacked. I just don’t want to take any chances. That’s all.”

You huffed but Steve was right, god forbid you irritated your stomach even further and made yourself sicker. You pouted as you put the bottle away and poured the glasses of wine down the sink. Steve looked through the shelves and found chocolate bars to make hot cocoa. He also pulled some whipped cream out of the fridge.

“How about I make us a fire and you whip up some of this instead?” He counter offered gently with a soft smile as he rubbed his knuckles up and down your arm, “It’s a bit more fitting for the weather too.”

“I suppose it is more fitting.” You scrunch your nose, hating to admit that he was right.

~~~

Steve put on some of his favorite music from the ‘40s and tended to the fire with the blowpoke to make sure it was just right. When he was finished he settled onto the couch next to you under the blanket. You watched the flames whip around the fireplace and enjoyed the scent of the burning logs. The crackling noises only added to the cozy atmosphere.

You eventually started to yawn as sleep crept over you. Steve rubbed your shoulder and then gave you a peck on the top of your head.

“Time for bed, doll.” He announced with a yawn, as he slowly got up.

You let out a whimper, “I’m too tired to make it upstairs.” You whined and collapsed onto the couch where he had been sitting.

Steve chuckled at you softly and then suddenly picked you up bridal style. You yelped at his sudden movement and he swiftly walked across the room and up the stairs. You wrapped your arm around his neck as your body jostled with each step. Steve nudged the door to your room open with his foot and then playfully dropped you on your bed.

“There, now all you have to do is pass out.” He teased you, “All the hard work’s done.”

He started for the door but then you called him back, “You can sleep in here tonight, if you want.” You offered coyly.

Steve looked at you surprised, “Are you sure? I don’t want to - “

“Come here.” You beckoned him with your hand out.

Steve approached you slowly and grabbed it. You pulled him towards you and into a kiss. It was gentle at first and his soft lips felt amazing. His large hands caressed your face as he deepened the kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and Steve pushed you backwards onto the bed. You scooted towards the pillows and then sat up to quickly undress yourself as Steve did the same.

You could feel the tension coming off of him as he gazed at your naked form. Your eyes traveled down the vee that led from his lower abs to his large and girthy cock. You knew he was big, but not that big. He was intimidatingly large. Your tongue darted out to lick your lips in anticipation and he chuckled at your reaction as he languidly stroked his cock.

Steve kneeled on the bed and then crawled up your body. He hovered over you and spread your legs with his thighs. You whined as he began to kiss down your neck and shoulders. The warmth of his body and his touch felt so familiar to you. You could feel yourself become instantly wet and your pussy quiver with anticipation.

He moved his hand between your legs and gently ran two of his fingers between your dripping folds.

“You're already so wet for me, doll.” He purred seductively in your ear.

You felt an aching need within you to be filled and grabbed his hand by the wrist.

“Please just fuck me, Steve.” You nearly begged him, “I need to feel you.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” He huskily rasped into your ear as he lined himself up with your slit and then slowly pushed into your heat.

“Fuck!” You gasped as you felt yourself stretch around him, “Oh my god!”

The stretch didn’t burn nearly as much as you had expected. There was just an instantly gratifying fullness. Steve began to move and you bit your lip while you wrapped your thighs around him tighter, savoring the feeling of the smooth skin of his hard cock massaging your inner walls.

Steve moved expertly within you, as if he knew your body like the back of his hand. Your pussy clenched around him as he instantly hit all of the right spots within you. You closed your eyes as they rolled and gave into the growing pleasure.

“So fucking perfect for me.” He moaned as thrust into you faster, “You like this big dick don’t you, baby.”

You mewled as you felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten and your legs start to shake. Your nails dug into his back and you felt his hot breath against your neck.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He growled with sharp thrusts that made you yelp as the sharply hit against your cervix.

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned breathily, ‘Yes, I love it.”

He reached his hand underneath you to grab your ass and pull you closer to hit at a deeper angle, “What do you love? Hm?”

Your breathing became labored as your legs tensed, “Your big dick. It feels so fucking good.”

Steve snarled as he snapped his hips into you roughly. You felt your back arch off the bed and squeeze down around him so hard you felt like you were going to break him. The coil snapped and Steve groaned as your body thrashed underneath his.

“Steve! Steve!” You chanted as bliss washed over your body and you saw stars.

Steve pounded into you as he rode you through your high and chased his at the same time.

“Not gonna last any longer, doll.” He panted as his hips snapped harshly, “Pussy’s too fucking good.”

“Fuck, I wanna put another one in you,” He groaned as his cock twitched and began to pulse as he painted your inner walls. Steve moaned as he gave you a few more sloppy thrusts and then collapsed on top of you.

You gently ran your fingers across his back and up and down his neck while you caught your breath. Then you remembered what he said, “I wanna put another one in you,” then started giggling.

“What are you giggling about?” He murmured between bites on your shoulder.

“I wanna put another one in you?” You snorted, “Like what? You wish you had another dick, Steve? Because this one is more than enough.”

He paused for a moment and then laughed lightly, “I dunno what I meant.” He lied, “My brain doesn’t exactly work properly during sex. Especially not with you.” He rolled off of you and pulled you into his chest.

You snuggled against him as he ran his hands gently up and down your back. He let out a satisfied hum before kissing you on the forehead.

“Come on, let’s take a nap, doll.” He said mischievously, “You need to rest up because I’m not done with you yet.”

~~~

The next few days were utter bliss and you couldn’t have planned for a more perfect getaway. You’d have mind blowing sex with Steve throughout the night, then get up to make breakfast, before you hit the slopes and hung out at the resort until it was time for you to come back and make dinner.

Sex with Steve was something that you’d never experienced with a new partner before. It was like you’d been lovers for a while and he’d taken the time to know exactly what got you off. His appetite was insatiable and he fucked you in every postion imaginable on almost every surface of the chalet.

Your time on slopes wasn’t as adrenaline inducing as you hoped it was because Steve had never skied before. So instead you helped instruct him on the bunny slopes while giggling at the super soldier losing his footing and falling down. Thankfully no one was able to recognize him because of how covered up he was.

One day you finally wanted to branch out on your own and hit up one of the more advanced slopes while he got lunch.

“Hey,” You said as you grabbed his arm to help him up off the ground after he had fallen again, “How about you grab something to eat while I go on one of the harder slopes? I can meet you back at the house.”

You couldn’t see Steve’s eyes through his ski goggles, only the distorted reflection of your face. But you could see how his hands gripped his poles and small ticks in his jaw. You’d learned to read his body language over the past few days and knew he wasn’t happy with the idea.

You let out a deep exhale and grabbed his arm gently to try and placate him, “Look, I know we were supposed to spend most of this trip together, but I haven’t been up here in a really long time. It’ll only be an hour or two.”

“When was the last time you’ve been up here? Or Skiing at all for that matter?” He challenged you and you could hear the irritation in his voice, “Do you really think it’s a good idea for you to just go off and do something more dangerous when maybe you don’t have your bearings?”

You were taken aback at how quickly his demeanor changed, “Yes, it’s been a while, but I’ve been doing this since I was a kid –”

“No, it’s out of the question, Y/N.” He stated forcefully, “Like I said earlier, it’s two hours to the nearest actual hospital and I also promised your dad I wouldn’t let you get hurt.”

“Out of the question?!” You sassed him back in disbelief, “Who the hell do you think - “

Steve dropped his ski poles and grabbed you tightly by the arm, “I’m saying no for your own good. Now come on before you start drawing attention.”

You stared at him for a while not knowing what to make of the interaction. Steve had never been like this with you before. You preferred to talk about it in private and so you complied and went back to the house.

You angrily huffed as you removed your gear and stomped over to the kitchen to get some water. You practically slammed the glass down before you started to make your way towards the stairs. Steve intercepted you and tried to pull you in for a hug but you pushed him away.

“Stop it!” You seethed at him, “I just want to go upstairs and be alone right now.”

You saw a darkness flicker across his face but then it softened and he reached out for you again.

“Hey, doll, don’t be like that.” He cooed as he fought you and pulled you into a smothering embrace, “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

You tried to pull away but he was too strong, “You sound more like you’re trying to control me, Steve and you're not my goddamn father.”

He let go of you just enough for you to pull away slightly before one of his hands grabbed you by the back of the neck with just enough pressure to keep you in place and the other gently caressed your face.

“I would lose my shit, Y/N, if I let you get hurt.” He told you calmly with a bit of harshness in his voice, “I’d fucking burn the world down if something happened to the two of you.”

“What?” You looked at him confused, “The two of us?”

You felt a sinking feeling in your gut as Steve began to stroke your face gently and then kissed you softly on the forehead. His silence made your blood run cold.

“Do you really think you’ve had a stomach bug for this long, sweetheart?” He asked you almost condescendingly with his head cocked to the side, “Or that what? Your hormones were just out of whack because of all the stress. How long has it been since you’ve had your period? Because I fucking know.” Steve lightly taunted as he squeezed one of your tender breasts.

You winced in pain and tried to push him away from you. Your heart began to pound in your chest as his words registered, but you couldn’t believe what he was saying. It wasn’t possible. He let you go and you stumbled backwards away from him.

“I know what you’re thinking right now, doll.” He told you calmly as he gazed at you with a small smirk, “How would that even be possible. Hm?” Steve took slow deliberate and menacing strides towards you as you continued to move away from him as terror rose within your body.

“Ohhh…my body is so sore after drinking that tea.” He mocked you, “Well if you say that’s normal, then I guess it is, Steve.”

“No, no, no.” You shook your head in disbelief, “No, you wouldn’t do that, Steve. You wouldn’t do that.” You were shaking now as the realization of what Steve had done hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Do what?” He asked with his lip curled, “Take what’s mine? You belonged to me the moment I saw you in that hallway, Y/N. It just took you this long for you to finally realize it.”

“Taylor was right about you.” You said softly as tears started to stream down your face, “She was right and you made us think - you made us think she was the crazy one! You fucking psycho! You raped me and you -“

“Raped you?” Steve scoffed, “You fucking feminists call everything rape these days, you know that? You can’t rape what belongs to you, doll. What kind of sense does that even make? Use your fucking brain, Y/N.”

Your legs almost gave out when you heard those viscous words fall from Steve’s lips. You tried to muster as much courage as you could as you took in a shaky breath.

“I’m going to leave now. I’m going to leave and I don’t want you to ever come near me again.” You told him as your voice quavered.

Steve snickered in amusement as he watched you trying to hold yourself together and tutted you, “No, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere with my baby. So sit the fuck down and stop being such a drama queen.”

Your body acted before your mind could and made a run for the door. Steve chuckled darkly as he quickly ran ahead of you and stood in front it, blocking you from escape. You turned around and bolted up the stairs towards one of the guest bedrooms as fast as you could. When you entered the one at the farthest end of the hallway you closed and locked the door behind you.

You looked around the room for anything you could use as a weapon and saw a blowpoke near the fireplace. You grabbed it and then stood behind the door waiting for Steve. You knew it wouldn’t take him down entirely, but maybe it would give you enough time to get a good head start.

“Y/N!” You heard him call out for you as he reached the top of the stairs, “Y/N, sweetheart, you need to calm down. All of this excitement isn’t good for the baby.”

You shook uncontrollably and tried to stifle your sobs. You were scared and also ashamed. How did you let such a monster into your life? How did you not pick up on any signals at all? Was he just that good or were you just that stupid? Taylor tried to warn you and you were too convinced by Steve that he was a good guy you ignored her pleas when she tried to save you.

Steve’s heavy footsteps got closer and closer. You heard them stop at the door of the room next to yours and open it. He walked around for a bit and then left. You knew the room you were in was next and tried to prepare yourself.

“I know you’re in here, baby.” He said before he opened the door.

Steve wailed as you hit his foot with the blowpoke. The curved hook stabbed through his foot and you could see blood stain his thick wool socks. You removed it and then whacked him in the head before sprinting past him as he fell to the ground holding his head.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!!” He bellowed in the distance, “YOU FUCKING DUMB BITCH!”

You quickly threw on your boots and coat and made a run for it through the snow. You knew he would chase you down the main road and you decided to try and chance it by making it through the woods to the resort. You could see the ski lift in the distance and all you needed to do was make it there, but the snow was so much deeper than you anticipated.

You tried to run as fast as you could but instead kept tripping and falling into it. Despite how hard the trek was, you were determined to get away from Steve.

You soon realized that you didn’t hear anyone around you. You didn’t hear another set of footsteps or Steve calling after you. You knew he wasn’t going to let you go, but why was he being so quiet? The silence put you on edge, but you forced yourself to start moving again.

After what seemed like at least twenty minutes you heard a large rock hit a tree next to you. Heavy snow fell from the tall branches and you ran away trying not to get hit with it. You heard Steve laughing darkly behind you.

You turned and couldn’t see him, so you ran to hide and covered your mouth to keep him from seeing your warm breath in the cold air. But it was also to stifle your sobs.

You heard footsteps crunching in the snow and Steve let out an annoyed sigh, “Sweetheart, you’re not getting away from me. Not with that tracker I put in you.”

You gasped against your palm, but it was clearly loud enough to hear with his advanced hearing.

“I’m not going to come over to that tree and drag you back to the house. Besides, I would never lay a hand on you.” He declared arrogantly, “No, I’m going to give you a choice.”

“A choice?” You thought to yourself. You knew it was just some fucked up game.

“You come back to the house with me and you accept that we’re a family now.” He started to explain to you, “Or, you choose not to. In which case, I will kill every single one of those snot nosed little brats in your class one by one until you come to your senses.”

You choked out a horrified sob. Not your students. You couldn’t believe that he was threatening them. The thought of him harming them made bile rise into your mouth.

“Oh? You don’t think I’ll do it, do you?” Steve continued nonchalantly, “What are their names again, baby? Bella…Jayden…oh that little weirdo Ryan. Maybe I’ll start with Ryan. It’s not like that kid’s going places anyway.”

You leaned against the tree and your body sank until you were sitting on the snow, your knees against your chest as you covered your face and cried. Steve would do it. You knew he would and you couldn’t let that happen. You heard his footsteps as he neared. He stopped in front of you and held out his hand.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go home.”

~~~

SIX YEARS LATER…

The camera crew did their final checks on the lighting as the stylists flitted around you and your family. You sat next to Steve in a feminine floral dress paired with a gold cross necklace and your hair pinned back with just a few coils framing your face. Steve sat next to you in a button up with rolled up sleeves and dress pants chatting with the interviewer before you were going to start recording.

You shushed your children and told them to quiet down before the cameras were about to start rolling. The oldest was Molly, who was followed by the twins Ronan and Conor. Then there were Christopher, Declan, and Sean. Your youngest Katie, who just started teething, squirmed on your lap as you held her against your growing belly. You were pregnant, again. But Steve had said you were already getting up there for a woman when he met you, and so he couldn’t waste time on you having too many breaks between the children.

“Alright, are we ready to start?” the chipper interviewer asked with a smile.

You knew the drill and you smiled back at her, hoping that it reached your eyes. You had learned your lesson after the first time a tabloid said you looked like you were being held hostage in your engagement photos with Steve. Taylor paid the price for it and after such a traumatizing loss, you fully realized that there was nothing too low or depraved Steve wouldn’t do to get what he wanted from you.

“Rolling.” The cameraman announced.

“So, President-elect Rogers and Mrs. Rogers, thank you so much for inviting us into your home this afternoon, along with your beautiful family.”

“It’s a pleasure having you here.” You smiled back at her, faking as much warmth as possible.

“President-elect- “

“Please, please, just call me Steve.” He interjected, “I really am still just that simple guy from Brooklyn.”

The interviewer chuckled, “Well, and that may be why the voters connected with you so much, Steve. You’re the first American presidential candidate to win 49 states since Ronal Reagan in the 1980s. You’re also the first Republican candidate to - “

You sat there with a Stepford smile plastered across your face as you turned to Steve to look adoringly at him, smile back at the interviewer, shush one of your children playfully and at the same time think about what your life could have been.

What if you hadn’t moved into that apartment building? What if Ethan had helped you move instead of Steve? What if you had listened to Taylor? What if you hadn’t been so blind? What if you hadn’t been so stupid?

“Mrs. Rogers?” The interviewer asked, pulling you from your thoughts, “Why do you think the voters connected so much with your husband?”

You knew this answer despite how much it wanted to make you vomit. You had been coached on it over and over again.

“Well, I think that voters see the sacrifices my husband made when he carried the shield, how he put himself in danger selflessly for others. I think they relate to him from even before the serum when he was a scrappy kid in Brooklyn.”

“Aww..sweetie.” Steve beamed at you as he squeezed your hand.

“But, I also think that when they look at our family, they understand how big his heart truly is.” You continued, “That he has compassion. That he is a true leader, in both his work, the church, the community, and in our home.”

Steve put his arm around your shoulder and gave you a peck on the head.

“To summarize what I think you’re trying to say, honey, I think it’s just that when a lot of voters see me, they see the traditional values they want to get back to.”

END

Taglist: @thanatosfic@eralen@rebekahdawkins@rededfoxy@lostyx@daniphantom1@marvelmenwhore @ironlady1993 @rosemirrors@lou-la-lou@kellhems

I can see him asking the silliest things at the most unlikely points like, she'll be telling a story that happened during christmas

"So I took off my hat and said-"

"Why were you wearing a hat?"

" Well, because it was Christmas and we worked in costume in the mall"

"I thought costumes were Halloween stuff, another thing I don't understand"

"Ok, continuing..."

You ever think Captain Hydra is just being a good listener?

this is so sweet! i almost cried in these chapters it was so good to read. too bad i've only found this gem now.

༻ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (𝟑/𝟑)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | 6’6” Steve, feral behaviour/feral!steve, nomad!steve, fluff, angst, size difference, manhandling, possessive!/protective!steve, gentle giant!Steve, SMUT - minors DNI, size kink, manhandling, oral (m&f), dirty talk, p in v, spitting, grinding, lots of cum, unprotected sex.

𝗪/𝗖 | 11K

𝗔/𝗡 | Let's all pretend this was posted on time. Firstly, thank you everyone for coming on this journey with me on my first big AU, I'm sad to see it end, but I'll always be open for blurbs and drabbles for this series. (little past mentioned) James Conrad x doctor!reader. Also, this is not PWP, so it’s much more plot in this chapter than smut !

All mistakes are my own, I'll be revisiting this chapter tomorrow and over the weekend to edit it and add parts, so it'll probably change soon ! Check out the role reversal of this story: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐄𝐲𝐞

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Well, I didn’t know jealousy was in attendance tonight–oh wait, it’s just you under all that green envy, Doc–how’s the gala treating you?”

You inhale deeply, avoiding the smug smirk playing on Tony’s lips. You turn to face him, leaning an elbow on the bar as the wine swooshes in the glass. “Did Pepper finally ditch you for the head security guard of the tower?”

Tony laughs loudly, slapping a hand over his chest. “Oh my, it seems I’ve struck a nerve.” He glances over his shoulder, eyes once again landing on the tall, burly blond across the room by the piano. His carefully gelled hair is visible above everyone’s heads, as a sea of reporters and other socialites surround him, hanging off every word he says. From here, you can practically see them swoon and fall for his magnetic charm.

“This is good for him.” You say, trying to convince yourself. “He’s been practicing speaking for weeks–he wants to make a good impression.”

“He has confidence and potential, I’ll give him that.” Tony signals for a refill of his glass, the bartender filling it immediately. He sips slowly, eyes flickering between you and Steve. “You know, we could have just put out a statement. It would have been far less stressful and you wouldn’t have to watch that.” The brunet winces as a young beautiful woman lays a hand on Steve’s arm, caressing his bulging bicep under his suit.

You quickly look down at your heeled feet, remembering Steve asking how you suddenly got a few inches taller after getting ready–you proceeded to show him your heels, “How…walk around in those? Hurt? So–pointy…”

“The public would have made up horrible rumours about him–you saw what they did to Bucky.”

“Barnes was an assassin who was unjustly blamed for the death of–” Tony snaps his mouth shut, grinning at the passing socialites, then once they’re gone, he rolls his eyes, “--Those two are basically the biggest blabbermouths of the city, and Peter nearly spilled the beans about the manbeast to those punks.” He huffs. “The kid is smart, but his mouth sometimes isn’t… an odd mix considering he’s in charge of presentations for the new interns.”

You sigh loudly.

Tony raises a hand in surrender, “--As I was saying, that is a weak comparison between Barnes and Rogers, one is a completely clean slate, no foul, no blood, nothing–and you seem to be convinced people will dig up some dirt on him, yet allowed him to be interview by himself.”

“I’m not convinced that they’ll dig up dirt–there isn’t dirt anyway, he isn’t a bad person.” You correct, gaze dragging across the vast ballroom. People in different, sleek gowns and suits, chatting enthusiastically, eating hors d'oeuvres and sipping fancy champagne or wine. “The independence will be good for him, and he wasn’t against it.”

“But he wanted you with him all night, right?”

You sag, fiddling with your necklace, that was enough for Tony.

“Doc, I know you care about him,” The man starts, furrows his brows as he finds the words, “but maybe you’re doing what you think is better for him–and in turn, you’re ignoring what he knows is best for the both of you.”

Your eyes widen and you shoot him a look, “What coming of age novel did you get that from?”

“The one Peter left in the lab,” Tony says, so easily that you don’t know if it’s the truth or not. “I understand that getting his face out there and showing everyone he isn’t a threat is important. Ignoring the fact that we’re admitting that S.H.I.E.L.D. is once again, a mountain of secrets that go down to the Earth’s core,” He cracks a smile when you laugh lightly, “But is all that publicity worth it when you’re sulking in this beautiful dress, and some noisy reporter is hanging off your fella’s arm?”

“He doesn’t know what she’s doing, it isn’t his fault.”

“I agree–but, if you told him the difference between being friendly and flirting, I think he’d brush off the press in the blink of an eye,” Tony says as he steps away, disappearing into the crowd.

You knew that, and you also knew that Steve would attract attention. People were moths to his flame, and you weren’t jealous–rather proud that he was handling it all so well–considering he despised the suit he was wearing too, clothes are just, ugh.

You bring the glass to your lips, still in a daze and not realizing your glass was empty. A delicate clang sounds behind you, a familiar drawl ringing in your ears.

“Bartender, refill for that glass, please.”

Turning around, a startled laugh escapes your body. Slowly taking in the tall, slender dark-haired man before you. “I can order for myself, you know?”

The man chuckles, a hand running down his velvet suit jacket. His blue eyes twinkle, “I figured you were too busy staring off into space to bother.” James leans over, following your line of sight across the room, a knowing smile crawling on his face, “or rather, longingly admiring from afar.”

“You’re hilarious.” You say bluntly, taking a long gulp of your drink. “Did your date get sick of you already?”

James rolls his eyes, nudging your shoulder, “I don’t know, did you ever get sick of me when we went on dates?”

Your scoff, a little part of you thankful for another familiar face in the sea of socialites and reporters, though, James’ British accent was fresh among the distant chatter. He’s sporting a slight stubble, his brown-blond hair in a messy gelled style, only aiding to his dashing prince charming flair.

The two of you have a friendly past-turned whirlwind of light romance, stemming from the beginning of your career when you were an intern in a busy city. As the days went by like snapshots, you and James grew close.

When you met him, he was a British S.A.S. officer who was hired by Stark Industries to teach survival techniques and share knowledge about jungle warfare. Throughout your friendship, there was occasional mutual flirting, definitely some attraction until you both took it one step further. The romantic relationship didn’t last very long, you were too busy with your career, and he was being sent back to London for work. The two of you decided it was best to end it before things turned sour–despite the break-up, you still consider James a good friend.

“So, that’s the Rogers’ son.” James hums, “he’s a lot bigger than what I expected.”

You stare up at him because of his towering height. There’s a playful quirk on his lips. “You knew?”

“I suspected something.” The brunet rephrases, “And I may have been consulted for tracking him down.”

Of course, his new profession. “That’s why you’re here tonight, to get your face plastered on the papers for helping?” You quip.

“Credit is due where credit is deserved, and I like to think I helped at least a little,” James smirks, his gaze trailing down your face and neck. “I couldn’t make it to the expedition but I assume it all went well.”

“As well as it could have. A sprained wrist was worth all of this, and all of him.” you glance over your shoulder, locking eyes with the giant ways away, you give him a small wave but Steve’s gaze shifts to your ex next to you. One second later, and the realization is evident on his face, undoubtedly recognizing the man from the box of old photographs deep in your closet.

You and Steve had gone through the pictures, you wanted to show him ones of your family, back home and your first days in New York–you didn’t expect a few coupley ones to slip out too.

“Captain Conrad!” A voice calls from the crowd. James twists around, lifting a hand before pushing off the bar.

“I’ll see you later?” He walks backwards, both eyebrows raised.

You just shake your head, turning back to your drink and noticing it was empty once again. This time when you look back at Steve, he’s still staring at you, the ghost of a grin on his face. He raises his glass of water with a wink, melting you from across the room.

It happens in a passing moment, but Steve, seemingly more vigilant tonight, notices immediately. The night has come to an end, the press leaving in good spirits and hopeful of the absolute story in their hands–the once highly confidential mission of the Avengers’ finally revealed, a man who survived in the jungle for his whole life, the son of a missing S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist who injected him with a recreation of Erskine's formula–a mouthful, but pure gold in the eyes of the public.

Steve’s story is going worldwide, and that creates a tsunami of attention.

Earlier in the evening when he was answering the millions of questions for reporters, he felt strange when they would touch his arms, or lean a little too close. He thought they had too much to drink–you told him what alcohol can do to someone, and Steve connected the dots.

Must be drunk. Maybe needs to stop?

So he took a glass from a young reporter and she giggled and thanked him–she thought he was going to be a gentleman and get her another glass–but Steve just placed it on a passing waiter's tray and returned to the conversation, as if he didn’t just cut the woman off.

Now, you and Steve are standing by the exit, waving and bidding farewell to the attendees tonight. Polite smiles, and halfhearted chuckles, as they leave through the wide elegant doors.

As the young reporter from earlier stalks closer, bright eyes locked on him, Steve feels your grip tighten on his arm. You lightly pull him to your level before pressing a lipgloss kiss to his bearded cheek. Then, you grab his chin, meeting his lips swiftly, giggling and wiping the makeup away.

Steve has always trusted his intuition. Growing up in the jungle, he had no choice when he wasn’t taught rules of conduct, he didn’t know anything else.

Going by his gut feeling has saved him many times too.

A nasty fruit here, a mudslide or two, an approaching predator, a poisonous bug or reptile–he wouldn’t be affected by the poison, but it would hurt. The bottom line, he trusted his intuition immensely.

After all, it brought him to you. He had smelt something remarkably different from the normal wilderness when he was with Bruce and the magic colour box–it’s a Rubix cube, Steven, Rubix. He was going to ignore it, far more interested in what else Bruce had brought for him, but there was an underlying instinct, combined with curiosity and protectiveness.

Perhaps an unfamiliar animal had wandered too close, and in the jungle, Steve has learnt that unawareness is a weakness.

He was correct about the unfamiliar animal–you were a woman with a smell that made him lose his mind, which led to him tackling you into the ground, hurting you.

Sometimes, Steve feels bad about that–but you always comfort him. Offering him cuddles and kisses as you comb your fingers through his hair, many instances of his guilt episodes have ended up with your panties on the floor, and his face between your thighs.

At the thought of your wetness all over his mouth, staining his beard and dripping from his tongue, he adjusts himself in his slacks.

“Steve,” you scold, pulling away his hand, “Don’t do that in public.”

He breathes heavily, mind flashing with that little glint in your eyes when you kissed him, claiming him before that woman.

You claimed him, you thought he was yours just as much as he thought you were his. Excitement bubbles in his chest, and also his lower region.

“Steve! I said stop that.” You huff, holding his hand in yours tightly. Glancing around the room for any lingering gazes, you look down at his crotch again and gasp. His length nearly bursting the zipper of his pants, very obviously showing off his gracious gift.

“Touch–please?” The blond murmurs, leaning down to nip at your ear, thick arms wrapping around your body to press against his cock. Slowly, his hips move in circles, desperate for relief, “I’m yours… please, touch–”

Your hand slaps over his mouth, a heat blooming on your face as you hurriedly tug him to the car waiting to take you both back to the tower. You push him into the back before sliding next to him, telling the driver to take a shortcut.

Steve ignores your request to put on a seatbelt, instead, rubbing his hand over the prominent tent in his pants, low groans flowing from his pink lips. You buckle him in, unable to stop him from placing your hand over his cock, slowly thrusting into your grip.

The elevator ride to your floor is unbearably long. Steve is grinding against your ass, mouthing messily at your neck as if the camera isn’t blinking from the corner of the ceiling. As soon as you step foot onto your floor, he starts stripping.

“Can try your mouth?” Steve quickly rips off his shirt, buttons flying and fabric tearing. “Please–be gentle… will try to be.”

You don’t have to be gentle, your mind says as you drink in every inch of his pale skin. The dark hair on his chest–that has surely gotten bigger, thicker since you first met him, as did most of his body. Bulging muscles and meat, veins visible under his taut skin, shifting before your heated eyes.

As he stands nude before the elevator doors, you finally spring into action. Dragging him away from the surveillance area and to the privacy of your bedroom, squirming as his hands start tearing your dress from behind.

“Want to see–didn’t let me see before we left,” Steve murmurs as the bedroom door shuts. He pins you against the wall before hiking your thighs around his waist, his hard leaking cock pressing against your stomach. A deep growl rumbles his chest as your breasts spill out, immediately, he takes your nipple into his mouth. Manhandling you higher on the wall with both his arms, closing his eyes in bliss as he suckles your nipple. “So soft–” He switches to the other, and one moment later, you’re flat on the bed.

A loud tear echoes through the room as your panties flutter to the ground, Steve is standing at the foot of the bed with a hand around his cock. His muscles flex as your thighs spread, revealing your wetness.

He groans, kneeling on the mattress and reaching towards you, “maybe no mouth–”

You stop him before he comes any closer, “but I want to taste you, please?”

An audible breath escapes his nose, jaw clenched tightly as he nods once, then twice. “Yes–yes, mouth.”

Flipping over, you crawl towards him. You feel warm as his eyes trace over your figure, lingering on your ass. Now, lying on your belly with his cock brushing your lips, you allow him to cup the back of your head and pull you closer.

“Heard lots about… how feels.”

A heat combs over your skin, you already know your thighs are sticky. “What did you hear?”

You wrap a hand around his base, feeling the throbbing under your fingers as you drag up his thick girth, the tips of your digits not meeting. You marvel at the prominent veins trailing up the sides, leading to the bulbous head, cum leaking down the redness. Taking the head into your mouth, you lightly suckle, swiping his taste with your tongue.

Steve moans loudly, knees buckling as his hips jerk forward, shoving more between your lips. “Feels… so good, oh.” His voice dies as he peers down at you spitting on his cock, spreading your saliva up and down his length. “Tongue…”

You hum, sliding down to the floor onto your knees. You don’t waste any time, licking from the base to the tip and spitting once more. Squeezing your thighs together, you look up at him before taking him deeper. He’s hot and heavy on your tongue and the fat stretch burns your lips, and you want more. Turns out, so does Steve.

“More–please.” His lashes flutter as you massage his balls in your other hand, saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth, slickening his cock as you take more of him.

“C’mon, Steve, don’t be shy.”

“Not shy…” He bites his lip, “can take charge, please?”

You nod with a mouth full of his shaft, your eyes watering slightly as he widens his stance, placing both hands on either side of your head.

As he groans above you with a firm hold and you’re taken by him. Piercing his thick and powerful thighs with your nails as he forces you closer, hips naturally gaining momentum. His skin flushed red, blooming up his heaving chest to his bearded cheeks. His hair falls in front of his eyes, but it doesn’t lessen the heat in his gaze.

His jaw drops as your eyes squeeze shut, a choked whine coming from your throat as he fucks your mouth. You can feel your juices trailing down your thighs as Steve slowly pumps in and out, his thick cock slick with your spit.

“Mouth so…” He pulls out as a string of saliva connects his throbbing tip to your lips, he quickly pulls you back on his cock, “wet, feels so good, sunshine.”

You relax your throat, breathing through your nose and let him use your mouth. Wet noises fill the room as you slobber on his length, trying to take as much as you can–but he’s too big, too thick, you can only get halfway before pushing him away.

The two of you build a pace between his praises in broken English and your own muffled whimpers. He takes your mouth like he owns it, allowing his desires and instincts to take the wheel, but you know he’s still holding back, and you tell him that he can go as deep and as hard as he wants. You know he could go absolutely mindless with pleasure–and you’re right.

Steve is always animalistic whenever you’re intimate, it makes sense he’s the same for his first blowjob.

He experiments with pace and strength, gathering the dripping saliva from your chin to smear on his cock, making the slide smoother so you can take him deeper. His neck craned low, eyes locked on your stretched lips around his fat girth, he can’t get enough of your gagging noises.

“Sunshine, so small down there.” He breathes, “know I’m bigger than you–and like it a lot.”

You whine, massaging his balls again as he hits the back of your throat, sliding deeper.

“Like that too? Know you do–can smell you,” Steve pauses, pulling you off to circling his heavy tip on your swollen lips, he slaps your cheek with it too, wanting to mark you in every way possible, “can smell your cunt.”

You can’t help but reach between your thighs, already on the brink with having him in your mouth, using you so passionately. Your fingers slip inside with ease, you slowly start to bounce on your hand and Steve takes notice.

His motions become rougher, your garbled moans more consistent. “Do like it, so much–touching yourself. Wish I was touching you instead.”

When Steve cums, he’s just as beautiful as he was the first time all those weeks ago. His eyes squeeze shut as his mouth falls open, neck and abs tensing under his pink skin, a low guttural groan nearly vibrating the walls. He floods your mouth, his thick seed spilling from your lips and down to your bare chest, you swallow as much as you can, moving his hands to take a last bit of control.

You lick up his length, gathering any rogue droplets, not wanting his taste to escape even the slightest. Steve helps you out too, swiping the cum from your chin with his fingers, shoving them deep into your mouth until you gag again, “like noise…” his blue eyes fall to your hand, still between your thighs, “like taste more though, want you on my tongue again, please.”

You should’ve known he wouldn’t stop after the blowjob. You’re lucky tomorrow was your day off too.

Steve can’t help the nervousness bubbling in his stomach as he stares down at the bouquet–which he made himself at the florists with Sam and Bucky.

This journey actually began with Bruce.

“Love like science?”

Steve trusts Bruce, almost as much as he trusts you. And when he finds the guts to ask about the odd feelings inside him, he goes to the doctor. Although, Bruce wasn’t very knowledgeable in that department and he warns Steve as such.

“Will talk with Buck and Sam, but want to hear Bruce first,” Steve says confidently.

The doctor is nose deep in a thick novel, currently on his lunch break. “You can just tell her, Steve, or make a grand gesture, whatever you feel is right–whenever it feels right.” Bruce tries to be helpful. Truthfully, he’s honoured that Steve came to him first, off all people the man has come to know, he still goes to the first person he’s formed a friendship with. “Unlike experiments, there aren’t specific steps for telling someone your feelings.”

“Nothing to follow?”

“Nothing to follow.” Bruce smiles softly, “Just do what you feel when you feel it's right.”

Before the journey, it was a wondrous whirlwind stemming from when he accidentally threw away your rough version of a document–one that you’ve been working on for weeks. He just wanted to please you, do some spring cleansing–it’s cleaning, Steve, not cleansing–in your shared home.

He dusted the shelves, wiped the windows, cleaned the couch and scrubbed the floor. He also got rid of anything that looked like garbage and in his defense, your bundle of papers was a mess, various scribbles and crinkled sheets, there were coffee stains on the cover. So, he tossed it in the recycling.

One can imagine the rage you felt after coming home to a missing thirty-plus-page document.

You didn’t yell at him, instead, you just sulked into your bedroom and locked the door. Exhausted out of your mind, and completely discouraged.

Steve waited for you to come out, sitting in front of the door and tentatively asking about your day, then when you didn’t answer, he told you about his.

“Got perfect on physics test… and English paper–you helped me write…” He taps on the door, sitting before it like a child. He glances at the doorknob, trying it once again but deflating when it wouldn’t open. “Am sorry, sunshine. Didn’t know–just wanted to do kind thing for you… always work so hard, always so kind. Missed you so much today too–” He presses his forehead on the wood, closing his eyes, “--never meant to hurt, hate when you get hurt or upset.”

He perks up as he hears the shuffling of sheets, jumping to his feet as the lock clicks. Then, he bursts through, sweeping you into his thick arms and kissing all over your face. He feels the wetness on your cheeks and pulls away.

His heart physically aches, like a thousand thorns stabbing his chest. “Oh… so sad?”

You inhale shakily, the softness in his voice making you break down all over again.

“Working too hard, too much. Need break.” Steve frowns, holding you tightly. His bare chest is warm under your cheek. “Will be super careful next time, promise. Will also treat sunshine–be tender.”

From there, bloomed the sweetest displays. Steve put the recipe book to great use, cooking you meals every day and baking you sweets at night and over the weekends. He even had a little apron, always welcoming you home with a beaming smile and delicious food, kissing you breathless before setting up a relaxing bath for you.

Sometimes he’d join, other times he’d just sit outside the tub, holding your hand and listening to you talk about your day.

It was a dream to be doted on like this. Although, you wished to do the same to Steve, knowing he deserved it just as much.

You had gifted him custom plushies that looked just like Peter, Wendy and Tinkerbell. Shortly put, Steve’s body nearly exploded after he realized what they were, he then hauled you off to the bedroom for some special experiencing–as he called it.

Then, he wanted to do more because he felt more than just happy with you, he felt excitement and glee, pure adoration and warmth in your presence.

It was uncharted territory from there. Deeper than anything he’s ever encountered, the unfamiliarity made him uneasy.

That’s what brought him to Sam and Bucky, his first option for help in his particular field. He communicated his confusion with his feelings, starting it off by asking to speak to them in private. “What about… deeper feelings? Like, feel so happy with person, want around all the time–feel relaxed and calm, but also, can’t contain excitement or happiness.”

Sam and Bucky, mostly Sam, proceeded to give Steve several pointers on ‘wooing.’ Dating in the modern world was very different from what he has seen in the wilderness, no mating dances or displays, but instead romantic gestures and gifts, quality time like date nights. He knew respect and communication were important, and to say the least, he was overwhelmed.

“Makes my chest ache–in good way. Just,” He huffs, “Want to go everywhere with her–do everything for her.”

Bucky raises a brow, metal fingers wrapped around a glass. The three of them are lounging on the roof, far away from any prying eyes or nosey spies. The sun is setting slowly, ghosting above the building tops and casting a yellow-orange glow.

“Have you told her that?”

“Don’t know how–already tried to dress up.”

Sam laughs loudly, “Oh, I remember that. Thought you’d have to cut your hair after it got stuck in the scrunchies. How did you manage to squeeze into one of her dresses?”

Steve shrugs, absentmindedly twirling the ends of his hair. He definitely didn’t want a haircut anytime soon, although his beard needed a trim soon. “Ripped it on accident, sunshine didn’t get mad. Just giggle… super cute giggles.”

Bucky and Sam share a long look, seemingly non-verbally conversing about the giant across from them on the plush outdoor patio couch. Sam tilts his head and in turn, Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes.

“Women today aren’t the same women as in the forties.”

“Which can be very helpful for our guy here,” Sam appealed, “Advice that worked on women back then and advice that works on women now–we’ll have him primped and polished.”

Bucky checks his watch, slumping, “I guess I could help–”

“--As if you have plans on a Tuesday night.” Sam scoffs playfully, already standing and clapping his hands, “Steve, you’ve got yourself the two most eligible bachelors of the city for all your questions and concerns of the heart.”

That’s how Steve ended up walking along the streets of New York, dipping in and out of various clothing stores, exiting with a new shopping bag and one new potential friend, the store employees and owners were very fond of the curious and blunt giant, most of them fell in love with his bright spirit and charming smile.

His wardrobe at the tower consisted of t-shirts and sweatshirts, mostly track pants or shorts–Steve didn’t wear many clothes when he was roaming around your shared floor. Hence, whenever he made public appearances, Tony had someone drop off carefully selected clothes for said occasion.

Steve inhales deeply, Sam’s words bouncing off the walls of his mind.

“Be confident, your posture is already perfect, you just need to accentuate that energy, and kill her with it.”

Steve’s eyes widened in horror, colour draining from his face, “kill?”

Bucky steps in, rubbing his hands down the blond’s shoulders, smoothening his leather jacket. “Not literally–nice going, Sam.” He murmurs, “You like her, Steve?”

It’s quiet for a few beats, the giant’s blue eyes falling to the bouquet in his hands, “Love her, Buck.”

The brunet smiles, “Right, you love her–”

“--so much–”

“Then, just let her know. She wants you for you–not some yuck-version of you. Be yourself, be honest, be a good listener.”

Steve hesitantly steps into the elevator, pressing the button for your shared floor. He gives Sam and Bucky a short wave.

“Call her a cute pet name!” Sam shouts as the doors close.

“Baby… Sweetheart…Doll … Lover.” Steve repeats every nickname he can think of, his foot anxiously tapping on the floor as the elevator ascends higher and higher. Finally, it dings before the doors slide open, revealing the clean but well-loved living room of your floor. The blankets on the couch are folded, pillows fluffed, but the coffee table is almost covered in all your documents and research papers. The familiar scent of your soap wafts to his nose as the faint music from the bathroom cuts.

“Steve? Is that you?”

“Lover… like that.”

Sam grins, “I don’t hear that one too often, but I think she’d like it.”

“Yes, lover!”

Your footsteps falter as you round the corner, a white robe tied around your waist as you spread moisturizer on your face. You raise a brow, “what did you say?”

“...yes, lover.” Steve is still standing in the elevator but quickly shuffles out as the doors begin to close. He tightens his fist around the bouquet, eyes glued on your bare skin. Trailing up your legs to the expanse of your chest, and finally your neck where a few marks were already healing.

Steve knows he’ll be replacing those with fresh ones tonight. He was counting on it.

“More flowers? The ones you got me yesterday are fine.”

The blond stiffens, “These for…uh…”

You smirk, “are you seeing another woman, Steve?”

“No! Never!” Steve exclaims, desperately shaking his head, “These for you–would never, ever be with other person.” He blinks profusely before gesturing to the couch. “Can—May we talk?”

You know what was coming, but you still keep your mouth shut. Nodding silently and walking to the couch, you pat the cushion next to you. As Steve steps closer, you can feel the waves of distress melting off him, constricting your throat. The bouquet, colourful and sweet, is placed on the cluttered coffee table before he plucks one of them, a yellow one.

Steve faces you, vulnerability behind his light eyes. With a touch as delicate as the morning clouds, he places the flower behind your ear.

When you place a hand on his thigh, Steve takes it and brings it to his lips. Closing his eyes as his lips press against the back of your hand, his facial hair scratching your knuckles, it’s a slow and strong kiss as if he’s trying to send his feelings straight through your bloodstream.

Steve doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. He wasn’t going to tell a wild lie, or break your heart–he’d never do that.

But, love. What was love?

Universal in every form–love began at the list of fundamental human necessities, through complex twists and shades of a million colours, the four-letter word was not simple in the slightest. A blessing and a curse of humanity and compassion. With a camouflaging ability to be bare and shrouded at the same time, being true to one and being unknown to their lover. Although, as pure as it is, love can be tainted by people.

Jealously, begging and pleading, unfair and unjust. Much too strong or much too little, love is beautiful.

Among the different forms of it, complete love included intimacy, passion and commitment.

Steve knew love as actions, things he’s seen with his own two eyes, but feeling love was entirely different. Something so personal and dear, buried within his heart and soul, Steve didn’t know how to define such an intense impression.

“Feelings… are strange.” He begins, mumbling against your skin before setting your palm on his chest, you can feel the faint thumps of his heart. “Feeling something—is so different from speaking. Wish was other way to describe what I feel here.”

You meet his gaze, giving an encouraging nod. “I know what you mean.”

His brows knit tightly, “but want to tell you how I feel…through words.”

It’s incredibly difficult to explain to anyone else–but so clear inside. Indecipherable yet easy.

“Want you around all the time–hate when apart. When together, feel happy—so happy, comfortable,” loved, “with you.” Steve cradles your hand between his, occasionally squeezing your fingers, “My sweet, beautiful, kind, cute—so cute and tender, soft, sunshine… everything good inside you.” He shuffles closer, the emotion behind his eyes is spellbinding, “teach me so much—never get annoyed or mean when I can’t understand.” He knows that some people aren’t as kind when it comes to his lack of knowledge and experience.

“Not first to be kind or tender to me—but have always been, from the beginning, even when I hurt you.” He inhales sharply, leaning down to nuzzle your cheek, he whines lowly in his throat, “know I’m forgiven, but still hate that I hurt you.”

“Steve—”

“Promise to never do it again, will never harm, hurt you.” He interrupts, “Always be tender, sweet… because you deserve that.”

You laugh wetly, cupping his bearded cheek and sniffling, “You do too, Steve. Don’t forget that.”

“Won’t forget—promise that too.” He leans into your touch, eyes almost fluttering shut before they shoot open, he squints, “But, Sunshine promise too?”

You nod as a wave of adoration almost knocks you to the floor, but even if it did physically strike you, you know you wouldn’t fall, not with Steve pressed against you. The gentle giant, with a heart of gold and a set of diamond eyes that gleamed and glimmered with hope, a purity that was so precious.

Steve licks his lips, falling forward until your foreheads meet. He squeezes your hand once more and dips down until your noses touch. He hums happily, wide eyes staring into yours. “You’re so beautiful up close—uh, lover.”

A part of Steve wanted to climb inside you, because maybe then he’ll finally be content—there was no describing how close he wanted to be with you. He wanted to live within your heart, kiss your soul and bathe in your existence, but he couldn’t explain that with his lack of vocabulary. So, he says it differently and in a way he does fully understand.

“Colourful birds in jungle—macaws…like little rainbows with feathers and can fly. They have one love for entire life,” Steve’s cheeks are cherry red, his blue eyes so clear, you can almost see his spirit, “And want… I want that with you.”

If he closes his eyes, he can see the vibrant birds. Perched high in the trees, the wisps of nature surround him as they mutually groom and share food with each other. Similar to the other animals in the jungle, but those creatures didn’t mate with only one for their entire life. They weren’t like the birds.

The birds that wake up every morning and check their mate for any concerns, they didn't groom them or solely share food with them. He knows those actions stemmed from something inside, deep within them. To have one for a lifetime.

“Please speak… feel so many nerves now…” he whispers, brushing his nose along the side of your face, a quiet whine coming from his throat. “Please—”

He’s cut off by your lips crashing against his, trying to convey every emotion. You cradle his face between your hands as he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

Steve loves you—the glorious man with a brilliant will. A dream in every sense of his being, a disadvantaged soul who has blossomed into a lively flower. A strong stem with the ability to withstand almost anything, physical and mental obstacles included. The petals vary because they’re coloured with his qualities—some are more than one shade to represent his change in characteristics, from a dull grey to a bright tint. And the pistil, it was blinding as if the sun had shrunk to size, although small, the radiated warmth wasn’t any different. Still beaming and sparkling before your eyes.

Steve pulls away with a wet smack, lips a little swollen, “Take that as same feelings?”

You’re engulfed in his glow, soaked to the core with Steve–this was the kind of intensity you’ve only fantasized of. Yet, it’s right before you, he’s right in front of you and inches from your face. With the most adorable grin and doing his signature head tilt.

You manage a nod before Steve is hauling you up and dashing to the bedroom. As you’re placed on the bed, the springs squeaking beneath you, he’s climbing on top of you again. Too lost in his touch, you don’t realize what’s happening until a sharp tear bounces off the walls.

Steve’s face flushes, “ah, oops…” He offers you a crooked smile, still clenching the loose threads of your robe, “not patient enough to untie.”

Then, you notice he’s also naked. His leather jacket flung across the room, as well as the rest of his clothes. His hair was slightly tousled and falling in front of his face. One of his hands reaches down, wrapping around his hard cock.

It didn’t take a genius to know what was on his mind.

“Are you sure about this?”

The giant grunts, his other hand gripping your leg and shuffling between your thighs.

You reach out and grab his chin, forcing his eyes to yours. “Are you sure about this, Steve?” The intense passion swimming in his eyes is answer enough, but you want to hear him say it.

“Yes, so much—made sure to pay attention to specialists, want to do it with you. Feel close to you, and feel you on me… be inside you.” He dips down to mouth at your exposed chest, trailing up to your neck and biting on a fading mark. “Please, let me inside?”

A high-pitched whine escapes your throat as the head rubs your clit, spreading your arousal before brushing your hole. He’s gotten close to slipping inside more than a few times, but this would be intentional. And you were ready.

“Y-Yes, Steve—” You gasp as he immediately starts pushing in. The mushroom tip is unable to breach your tightness, even with your excitement dripping out.

“Should open you up first–” He starts pulling away, fisting his cock again as the thick head bobs against his abs.

“No, no,” you desperately shake your head, your heart pumping against your ribs, “please, don’t stop. I want–ah!”

Steve has a finger shoved inside your hole, curling until he feels that rough patch. A dribble of spit lands on your pussy as he glares down at you, “Specialist said to make sure you’re comfortable–”

“I am, fuck, I just want you inside me, baby. Please.” Your voice trembles slightly, eyes watering as he pumps another long digit into you. Your hips rise off the bed as he pulls them out, messily rubbing your clit.

“Say it again.”

“Please, baby, I love you–I want your cock–ah, inside me. Know you want it too, your cock is leaking–” He moves so fast, hooking your knees over his elbows and his length sliding between your folds until the head pops in. He doesn’t pause for a moment and continues penetrating your soaking sore, causing you to squeak loudly.

He groans, eyes shut as his shoulders shudder. The feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, choking his thickness and he isn’t even halfway. The last string snaps and he bites into your neck, muffling his helpless moans.

You have zero clue what’s happening as he begins pumping in and out of you, each time, getting deeper. The juices spilling from your pussy soaking the sheets, nearly dripping down his balls with every thrust.

“So wet—tight.” Steve grits his teeth, gaze bouncing between your blissed-out face and your little hole struggling to take his girth. He spits down on your connected centres, using his fingers to spread your combined wetness down the rest of his cock.

He’s so big, it burns, but you want more.

“All the way, baby, please.” You cry out, legs flailing before he grips them, pinning them to the mattress.

He continues working into you, stuttering groans filling the room and harmonizing with your whines. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders as he braces himself on either side of your head, his breath fanning across your cheeks. As he draws deeper, the base of his cock meeting your cunt, his pubic hair touches your tingling clit.

The euphoria is evident on his face, completely taken with the short amount of time. He whimpers as he pulls out almost all the way, the heavy tip rests inside your cunt before he goes forward again. “Want to last long but can’t—feels so good.”

You hiccup a, yes, digging your nails into his broad shoulders as the pressure builds within your stomach. His veins brushing against your throbbing walls, the stretch of your thighs similar to the stretch of your hole, burning.

Steve’s eyes fall to your heaving chest and down to your tummy, his pace quickening as the wet slapping sounds increase. He growls as you clench, his cock reaching the deepest part inside you, sending waves of pleasure through your bloodstream.

“Can see myself, baby.” Steve groans, alternating between thorough grinds and deep thrusts, watching the bulge appear under your skin. “So little—small, but taking me so well.”

A warm hand lands on your lower tummy, pushing down as your thighs tense, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer. He gets rougher too–just as eager as the headboard bangs against the wall. Every pound of his hips sends your juices spilling, a creamy ring appearing at the fat base of his shaft.

He wipes the drool from your lips, bringing it to your nipple and pinching the nub. “Can be more gentle, but love you–love seeing me inside you. Seeing you stretched–it hurts?”

You shake your head, vision blurring. He kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and swallowing each of your cries. His hands grip your shoulders as he pulls away, keeping you firmly locked on his cock, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts.

“Want me to be gentle?”

You shake your head again, eyes fluttering open. You watch his girth slam into you, a redness blooming on his skin, as your little pussy takes everything he has to offer.

“Can finally cum inside you–instead of just on.” He growls, “Want that? Be filled with me, only me. Can watch it spill out too, claim from inside.”

Your high topples over, stretching your mind paper-thin, his name written on the page.

Steve’s jaw drops as you convulse around him, squeezing him so tightly he whines. You squirt, soaking him with your mess. His cum painting your walls white, flooding you from the inside out. He grinds against you, his pelvis rubbing your pulsating clit raw. Every dirty motion shoves his seed deeper, the tip of his spurting cock kissing your cervix.

“Know about this…” He trails off, fingers delicately tracing through your wetness that soaked his thighs and the bed. “Love it, baby, so much.”

The laugh you let out is quite pathetic, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not with Steve flattening you to the mattress, covering you in his warmth–as you’re also filled with his cum.

You try to move, your thighs aching. “You have to–ah, let go of me.” You yawn, and lightly tap his back, your digits trailing down his spine.

The giant grumbles, shifting around and you think he’s finally going to release you, but no. Steve slips his arms under you and rolls over as you start fading away into unconsciousness. The last thing you hear is him getting up, mentioning getting sunshine all clean.

“Wake up… please.”

You flip over, squinting at the harsh sunlight. “Hm?”

Steve is facing you, a blanket barely covering his muscular form. He smiles, hair messy and eyes soft. “Sex again?”

You giggle sleepily as he crawls over you, nuzzling your neck and nipping your cheek. He kisses you gently, fingers tracing down your body. “I almost forgot you barely need rest.”

“You okay? Good sleep?”

“Best sleep.”

He pulls away, thick lashes brushing his cheekbones, “...can experience you again? Before work, please?”

You lace your fingers in his long hair, lightly tugging. His eyes fall shut as his hips sink between your thighs, bare as you, he slowly grinds. “Take me however you please, baby.”

You peek from the corner of your eye at the giant who was still staring at you, his clear blue gaze searing into your skull, you honestly think he could read your thoughts. Although, you know if he did, he wouldn’t be staring at you in the first place.

“Angry?”

“No, Steve.”

It’s quiet for a few moments, he averts his gaze to his little notepad, pencil still in hand. “...upset?”

You sigh, “Why would I be upset over a barista?”

There’s a long pause, “Flirting?”

“She wasn’t flirting with you, she was just asking if you wanted whipped cream on your drink.”

Steve was still getting the hang of certain mannerisms, and apparently, everything that was remotely kind was classified as flirting in his eyes.

Especially when it was towards you. You can still remember the terrified face of the mail carrier who had complimented the array of plants on your windowsill in your office, Steve happened to be on a break between his classes and saw the whole thing. The poor mail carrier had dashed out the door after Steve growled and scowled like a wild animal, establishing his dominance by hovering like a shadow, glaring them down until they tucked their tail between their legs and left.

It didn’t help that an intern who had occasionally flirted with you entered right after. Somehow, he didn’t notice the giant man in your office and proceeded to slyly chat you up with his eyes on his phone, texting away. Once his phone was away, he was met with the deadly gaze of a manbeast, jaw clenched as tightly as his fists.

The blood immediately draining from his face, the young man profusely apologized and excused himself. He shut the door but that didn’t stop Steve from thundering down the hall after him. You were racing after him, bumping into other scientists until ramming into his wide back, the elevator doors had saved the young intern momentarily.

Calming Steve down had been a mission itself, one that involved missing clothes, shut curtains and your office desk breaking. You were stuttering with warm cheeks while explaining the incident to Tony after he caught you disposing of your broken desk. Although, he made sure to order you a new, very sturdy one.

As if on cue, the intern walks in, his eyes bugging out of his head as he spots Steve, sitting next to you with a thick novel in his hands. Broad shoulders stretching the white henley, hair slightly touselled.

“Can help, boy?” The blond hisses, leaning towards you protectively.

The young man’s eyes flash between you and the documents in his hand. He slowly inches backward, “Dr. Banner wanted you to look over, uh, his recent physical test.”

“Oh, okay.” You stand but then you’re yanked down to Steve’s lap, a startled gasp escaping your lips.

“Give.” The giant holds out a hand expectantly, he grunts a quiet, “Thank you, boy.”

You hide your embarrassment–and sudden arousal–with the folder, holding it in front of your face as the intern lingers by the door.

“Can leave.”

“Dr. Banner also wanted to meet with the both of you in twenty minutes.”

As you review the results of Steve’s recent physical, the differences from the last one are stark. His weight has increased, probably from the change in his diet, from whole fruits to carbs, and his desire to try at least everything once.

You start squirming on his lap, his thick thigh tenses. “O-Okay, thank you.”

Steve inhales sharply, keeping his gaze locked on the intern until the door clicks shut. Then, he’s on you, flipping you around and plopping you on the desk, no definitive crack resonating through the room like last time. You noted to send Tony a fruit basket.

Steve’s face is buried in your neck, his beard roughly scratching you as he mouths at your skin. “Getting wet again…”

Your whine is muffled by his hand, vaguely reminding you of your first meeting in the jungle. Steve must remember it too, because he smiles, then nuzzles one half of your face, then switches to the other side.

“Smell good, sunshine…Love you.” His fingers trail up your skirt, pulling at the tights, “Taste before we go?” You gasp as the fabric is torn, from the crotch and down your legs until it’s a mangled mess on the floor.

A loud squeal escapes you as he latches onto your cunt, mouthing messily along your folds and suckling your nub. He groans against your wetness, his beard rubbing you raw.

Steve pulls back, wide eyes blinking. “Want you to squirt–again, please, like when we fucked.” You cover your face with your hands, thighs snapping shut but he prys them open, rough hands massaging your thighs, “again, please, love when you do it.”

You can’t deny him and it seems everyone also knows that because when you leave, they all give you knowing looks, the intern hiding behind his computer screen with the most startled expression. A contrast to Steve who was as smug as can be, your creamy mess still evident in his beard.

You were so kind, all the way from the beginning. Your good heart could outshine any flame, glow amongst the brightest smiles, just like right now. In the sea of grinning children and parents, their gleaming faces are nothing compared to the beam on your lips.

“Your family loved you, they weren’t perfect but no one is.”

Steve doesn’t miss a beat. “You are.” His eyes are honest, blue.

You smile softly, “I have my flaws.”

“And they’re perfect to me…everything about you is perfect to me.”

You smiled so lovelily when he said that this morning, and as if history was repeating itself, you were smiling like that again. Except from halfway across the room as you lean on a bookshelf, listening to him read ‘Tarzan’ to the small circle of children.

The library walls are vibrant and the decorations are cohesive. The theme of a pond, painted trees on the walls and bookshelves, mushroom or flower painted table tops with little chairs at each.

The young children are completely immersed with the man in the comfy armchair. Steve flips the page, showing the colourful illustrations before reading the words, with just as much enthusiasm as he started the session with. Exaggerated facial expressions and giving each cartoon character their own voice. It’s crazy to think that just a few weeks ago he was repeating everything you said, learning different tones and pronunciation.

His eyes meet yours once again. Twinkling as they take in your gentle face.

You’ve been like this since he met you, and now that he knew you, he wanted you for the rest of his days.

After confessing your love for each other, Steve got more confident. Sexually, through his own initiations but also within himself through self-assurance. Mistakes have been made, they were unavoidable, but Steve always kept trying and that combined with your never-ending encouragement, has led to now. From struggling to read the letters from his parents, to reading with an animated voice to young children.

“Want to read, but will ask if don’t know. Want to try.” He exhales, determinedly glaring at the papers in his hands. “Will help, right?” After you nod, he begins the first one, dated a few weeks after his birth.

He quietly reads next to you and pauses to ask for help. Blinking down at you as his nose turned red, lips quivering.

‘We never want you to think that we don’t love you’ they say multiple times in the letters, they call him their angel, sweet boy, their baby. You watch Steve tear up as faded memories rush back, consisting of faces he couldn’t remember.

‘You love the animals and playing in the water,’ is printed in faint cursive, ‘I always told your father there was nothing bluer than your eyes–not even the crystal waterfall.’

There were many letters, and as the final sheet is pinched between his fingers, he pulls you onto his lap. Burying his face into the crook of your neck and kissing the skin.

“Am so sad–but don’t remember them. Barely remember faces…” He rubs his nose under your ear, “Wish they were there, have so much to tell them.”

‘The world is beautiful, my angel. As are animals and nature, all things are–and always will be–naturally beautiful. Although the effortless vision, be wary of those who choose to make the world a dangerous place.’

“Think I understand that…” Steve sniffles. “Not only good in the world–but doesn’t mean world bad–people can be good or bad. Just have to find the good, tender.” And be good and tender. “I found my good.” He says against your shoulder.

Steve succeeds and reads them all, with you hovering closely for help. It’s quite often, but you’re immensely proud of him. With a comforting hand on his back, rubbing slow circles as you listen to his deep drawl.

The sheet flutters to the coffee table, lying in the bed of tissues. And Steve breathes shakily, wrapping a blanket around the both of you before sinking into the couch. He’s snug between your thighs, the side of his face pressed against your bare tummy. He kisses the softness, possessively gripping your hip with his hand. “Want you for life. To the end–and whatever comes next.”

You clap with the rest of the crowd as Steve ends the book, setting it into his lap with a grin. Avidly asking the children what part was their favourite, beginning the energetic conversation that they all look forward to.

“How is he adjusting?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, wide eyes meeting James’ as he leans on the bookshelf across from you.

He cocks a brow, “are you all right?”

“I’d be perfectly fine if you didn’t sneak up on me like that.” You huff.

“I’m here for my nephew and I’ve been standing here the entire time, but you were too lost in him again.” James notes, “seems like he has that effect on people wherever he goes, hm?”

You sigh, about to speak but cut off by loud giggles. The children have all scooted closer to Steve as he flips through the picture book, excitedly pointing at the illustrations. Various colourful drawings of the jungle and wild animals, Tarzan’s adventures that almost mirror Steve’s life.

“Does he miss it? I can’t imagine the culture shock.” James asks quietly, following your gaze, “All of the unfamiliarity–the sudden wave of new. He seems fine but… you know, never mind.” The dark-haired man lifts his arm, revealing a tiny purple coat, “I’m glad he has you. He’s very lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one.” You glance at him.

James smiles as a young boy stumbles closer, he steps forward to scoop him off the ground and turns to you again. “Always the sweetheart, aren’t you? That’s what I adore most about you. Perhaps the both of you are lucky, then.”

All of the children reluctantly leave with their parents, enthusiastic farewells and waves to Steve, who happily returns each and every one of them.

The giant frowns, eyes following James as he waltzes away. He grumbles, “Flirting?”

You blink and shrug, “I actually don’t know.”

He makes a disgruntled noise, murmuring to himself, you only catch a few words, steal, fight, and mine. “Ugh, what he thinks he’s doing…”

“It doesn’t matter what he was doing because I don’t care. He is not one of my concerns and I’ll never go—”

“—steal, he can steal you—”

“—no, he won’t. Never.” You pinch his cheek, “do you know why?”

Steve blushes, “because love me?”

You grin, going on your tippy-toes and pulling him down for a quick peck, “that’s right, baby.” You release his face to grab his hand, about to head towards the exit doors, but he pulls you back. A startled squeal escapes you as you crash into his firm chest, his arms wrapping around you instantly.

“Why not say it—want you to say it, please?”

You turn in his hold, cupping his jaw and bringing him down to your height, “I love you, Steve. I love you so much.”

The blond chirps happily and affectionately nuzzle your face. He kisses your nose. “I love you—more than reading.”

Once you’re in the comfort of your home, you change into cozy clothes while Steve strips down to his underwear. He sits on the couch and pulls you to his lap, mouthing along your neck softly, as not to intentionally lead to anything—although he wouldn’t be opposed to it—but just a simple action to feel closer to you.

The television plays in the background to your thoughts as James’ words sink in. Of course, you’ve considered that before, but hearing it spoke those static concerns into fruition.

Poor Steve, the sinking feeling goes straight to your heart, tugging the strings in all sorts of directions and spelling out your guilt.

“FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”

“In his studio, Dr. L/N.”

As you step into the room, your jaw drops. There’s paint everywhere. Dark blue and black on the glass ceiling, there’s some deep green too, and it drips down. It’s also all over the walls, and floor, and most importantly, covering the blond man standing in the middle of it.

“Steve!”

The giant jumps, paintbrush clattering to the ground as green spills onto his feet. A half-painted tree on the sunroof, next to bright white spots.

“What are you doing? Tony said no paint on the glass.”

There are streaks of paint on his face too. “...but sky…”

You gape at the once clear ceiling that projects anything–that did project anything.

Steve looks like a kicked puppy, with furrows brows and a pout. “City sky… can’t see stars–hate that can’t see stars. Miss home lately.” He confesses in a small voice, looking down at his black and blue hands. “Always slept under the stars… talked to the stars… when I don’t see it, I feel sad.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until Steve wipes your tears. His face twisting in confusion and worry, “what’s wrong?”

Every time you blink, you can see his home and his friends, Wendy, Peter and Tinkerbell. When your eyes are closed, you’re transported to that blissful heaven in the jungle with Steve, the man who smacked oranges out of your hand and carried you everywhere, the giant who risked his life for you.

Then you open your eyes and are flung back to reality. In the city that never sleeps, a playground bustling with energy and technology. Steve is still there and he hasn’t changed, except for the altered mannerisms for the modern world and widely expanded vocabulary and knowledge. But there’s a sadness in his eyes, you can’t tell if it’s a reflection of your own regret.

“What’s wrong?” He repeats with a deep frown.

You hiccup as he rubs under your eye, brushing away the tears. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

“For what?”

“I—We took you away.”

Steve tilts his head, bare chest rising and falling with each breath. The seconds bleed into minutes and soon enough, you’re lying on your back with Steve hovering over you. His hair tickles your face as he kisses away your tears, the delicate presses of his pink lips sweeping away the blue.

“Can be sorry… but don’t need to be.” He murmurs against your cheek. From his perspective, meeting you and leaving the jungle was both a blessing and a burden.

Hopping on a plane and flying across the globe was overwhelming enough. As was discovering the truth of himself and his family, what lay in his very existence. The jungle was his first home, the place where he’s spent most of his life, discovering himself within the sky-high trees and sparkling clear waters, it’s also where he’s nearly died a few times. But the city was his second and current home, especially with you in the picture.

Simply put, he loves the jungle, he loves the city and he loves you.

The city came with so many great things and introductions to opportunities and new experiences he’s been graced with. He’s made many new friends, like Sam, Bucky, and Tony, people with who he can communicate, people who are just like him. And the food was an enormous advantage too, no more fruits and bugs, rather meals stemmed from different cultures all around the world.

And the world—the world was huge, and there was so much to explore, so much he would have missed out on if he stayed in the jungle.

The blond sprinkles kisses from your forehead to your chin, “World… world is wonderful place, want to see every part of it.” He murmurs, brushing a hand on your neck, “Wouldn’t get to do that if never met you–or never left.”

Steve is just as beautiful as he was when you first met him. His chest heaving slightly, a faint sheen of sweat covering his skin. His hair is wet too, just like yours since you did a spontaneous jump off the waterfall a few minutes ago.

He seems more relaxed to be back in his element, the jungle. You squeak as he pulls you on top of him, your naked skin sticking to each other.

“Stars–missed them so much.” He has a blissful expression on his face from the sparkling in the sky. One of his hands falls to your ass, cupping the flesh firmly. “Can smell you getting wet.”

“Technically, I am wet. It’s from the water.” You gesture to the rushing falls behind you, still as clear as your first visit to the island, but a little scary considering how dark it was outside.

“So happy Peter and Wendy liked gifts–Wendy looks cute in clothes…”

You hum, silently thanking Tony’s marvellous mind for bringing you all back here again. He proposed a little project last month after the paint incident. Stark Industries to operate a reserve for the island, protecting it under the law with big and nasty–his words–lawyers to ensure no one harms the wildlife or resources.

“My lawyers won’t fail to jail anyone who messes with the manbeasts island, and that’s a promise. We’re securing the island from anyone who doesn’t have explicit permission, creating a safety bubble of sorts, who knows, maybe you’ll live there once day, doc.”

You’ll never forget the way Steve’s eyes lit up at the mention of going back to the jungle.

“Always saw the stars when I slept here. Love seeing them again!” He exclaims, flipping you over to pin you against the blanket. Back at camp, your little shared cot is stripped bare–just like the two of you. Steve wiggles between your thighs with a smirk. “Want to know a secret?”

You hum, half amused. “I think I already know what you’re going to say.”

The moonlight caresses his features, “Didn’t know much about sex when we were here the first time, but want to have you now. Here, under the stars… my homeland.”

“You’re going to take me right here in the wild like an animal?”

“Mhm… know you’ll like it, sunshine.” Steve grins madly, “Also know you wanted me when we met–smelt you then.”

You go to shove his shoulder, but he grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles, nibbling on each of your fingers before pressing his lips to your palm. “So little compared to me…” He mumbles, trailing down your arm to your elbow, each movement sinks him closer.

Your eyes fall shut as he kisses across your chest, to your neck, murmuring about your smell and taste.

“Moon loves you.”

“Hm?”

“Moon must love you.”

You shiver as his hands massage your thighs. “How do you know that?”

“Love makes people glow… and you’re glowing now.” He preens as your fingers knot in his hair, eventually cupping his bearded face. “Or, maybe that’s because you’re sunshine… but also don’t think I’m making sense right now…”

The laugh you let out is pure glee as you yank him down, your lips colliding in a slow kiss. His hard, big body presses against yours, his facial hair tickling your face, causing you to giggle again.

“Mhm–stop it, trying to kiss you, not your teeth.” Steve grunts, laughing too. He pulls away with a grumble, “trying to be romantic, why you’re so giggly?”

“I’m happy.” And, so, deeply, mindlessly, in love.

“I’m happy too.” The giant softens, “haven’t been this happy in jungle before… feels good to be back with you.”

It does feel good, it feels great, phenomenal.

Your journey, although it was completely out of your control, started on this very island, a few miles North. You suppose it only makes sense for a chapter to conclude back at the beginning.

Looking at Steve, his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat, thick lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks, you can see the faint red of his skin under the moonlight.

Looking at you, Steve remembers you saying there was no magic in your world–but you’re wrong. Because how else would he end up where he is, with you under him, a giggly and beautiful mess. How could everything fall into perfect place without magic?

Yeah, you both decide.

You both definitely want the other as a staple in your next adventure, making it a shared one. And hopefully the one after that, and after that. All the way to the end.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I never thought i’d actually end a story with ‘the end.’ As stated at the beginning, this part will be revisited tomorrow and over the weekend (for editing and adding parts, probably making the smut longer and putting more dialogue, so the word count will increase too).

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! My new series has been posted, it’s a role reversal of this lovely work with feral!reader — 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐄𝐲𝐞

☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

Thank you everyone who has supported me since I started this series, you've all made me so happy, and I'll never be able to thank you enough. I hope you all enjoyed. I'm always open for feedback/your thoughts !

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞-𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 

Daenerys Targaryen Appreciation Week: Longing

If I look back, I am lost.

SAM REID as Lestat de Lioncourt

Interview with the Vampire 01.06 | "Like Angels Put in Hell by God"

Blood Of Zeus Ivy icons

Blood Of Zeus Hera icons

ꧏꨮۣ⿻ࣩꦽࣥۜ please, reblog or fav if you save it.