#nomad x reader

[luxthestrange]

HOUSAMO Memes #2

[slytherinshua]

DECKS THE HALLS : slytherinshua's holiday/3000 follower event.

back to main pinned

[ this is event is now closed ]

note : so we are not quite at 3000 followers yet BUT we are 19 away as i type this (now officially surpassed 3k!!!!!!!!), so i decided to just post this event not as a joint holiday and milestone celebration because i'm super excited about this !! thank you so much for 3k, i love every single one of you and hope that you will enjoy participating in this event and reading the fics that come out of it 🥹🥹🥹

rules : pick 1 idol from the list below along with 1 prompt. the idol list is organized in group name alphabetical order for easy navigation. after you have picked your idol and prompt, send in an ask with your request (ex. taehyun with #1, fresh flowers). i will cross off both lists as the requests fill up (no duplicate idols or prompts will be accepted, and no requests with multiple prompts listed will be accepted). a drabble will be written for as many requests as i can handle. you are welcome to send in multiple requests, but be aware that not all may be able to be completed. (i would appreciate if second requests be sent in a separate ask from the first ones so it's easy to keep track of). with all that being said, thank you so much for 3000 followers i love you all <3

disclaimer : there may not be every idol from a group on the list. this is either because i don't feel as confident writing for them, or i'm simply not as inspired to write for them as other members. it is not because i love the member less than the others.

ampers&one - na kamden, choi jiho, mackiah mercer, or kim seungmo

astro - lee dongmin, park minhyuk, or yoon sanha

cix - kim yonghee, bae jinyoung, or yoon hyunsuk

lucy - shin yechan, choi sangyeop, jo wonsang, or shin gwangil

mcnd - song minjae, no huijun, or bang junhyuk

nct wish - oh sion or kim daeyoung

nomad - hong doeui, shin kangsu, or jeong junho

onf - kim hyojin, lee changyun, lee seungjun, shim jaeyoung, park minkyun, or mizuguchi yuto

seventeen - wen junhui, jeon wonwoo, or xu minghao

sf9 - kim youngbin, lee jaeyoon, lee sanghyuk, baek juho, kim seokwoo, yoo taeyang or kim youngkyun

the boyz - kim younghoon, jacob bae, kevin moon, or choi chanhee

tomorrow x together - choi yeonjun, kang taehyun, or hueningkai

tws - shin junghwan, han zhen, or han jihoon

verivery - lee dongheon, jo gyehyeon, ju yeonho, kim yongseung, or yoo kangmin

victon - han seungwoo, kang seungsik, lim sejun, choi byungchan, or jung subin

wayv - qian kun, ten lee, or liu yangyang

&team - koga yudai, byun euijoo, nakakita yuma, asakura jo, takayama riki, or hirota riki

1 - fresh flowers

2 - sprigs of lavender

3 - folded laundry

4 - crackling fireplace

5 - bright snow

6 - shining northern lights

7 - minty breath

8 - smudged lipstick

9 - matching rings

10 - pastel sundresses

11 - wet swimsuits

12 - hand-knitted hats

13 - ripped boxing gloves

14 - matching tattoos

15 - unspoken promises

16 - dry aged wine

17 - freshly brewed coffee

18 - burnt toast

19 - smooth piano keys

20 - tear stains on a pillow

21 - warmth of skin

22 - gleaming gemstones

23 - ointments and bandages

24 - scarred hands

25 - cuts and bruises

26 - a sharp sword

27 - a rusty dagger

28 - a torn dress

29 - a velvet suit

30 - a stolen jersey

31 - a scuffed motorcycle helmet

32 - a computer screen’s light reflected onto skin

33 - a closet under the stairs

34 - a comforting embrace

35 - a hand-written birthday card

36 - a spell unknowingly cast

37 - a secret heir to the throne

38 - a hot bullet

39 -a favour done in secret

40 - a flood of memories once forgotten

41 - a flushed face and breathless body

42 - a hint of perfume

43 - an empty basketball court lit by street lights

44 - soap suds slipping down one’s shoulder

45 - combing a hand through one’s hair

46 - arms clasped around one’s waist

47 - hands chilly from the cold

48 - thumbs running over one’s jawline

49 - rain running down a cold cheek

50 - knots worked out of one’s shoulder

51 - waking up from a bad dream

52 - huddling under one blanket together

completed fics :

1 - hueningkai + gleaming gemstones

2 - wonwoo + arms clasped around one's waist

3 - jun + thumbs running over one's jawline

4 - jo + bright snow

5 - sangyeop + scarred hands

6 - minghao + a scuffed motorcycle helmet

7 - euijoo + a stolen jersey

8 - yudai + rain running down a cold cheek

9 - kangmin + a hot bullet

10 - yangyang + matching tattoos

11 - mackiah + pastel sundresses

12 - kamden + a favour done in secret

13 - sion + waking up from a bad dream

14 - hanjin + ointments and bandages

15 - jinyoung + smudged lipstick

16 - jihoon + a comforting embrace

17 - sanha + hand knitted hat

18 - yeonjun + folded laundry

19 - yuto + warmth of skin

20 - younghoon + combing a hand through one's hair

21 - jaeyoon + knots worked out of one's shoulders

22 - junho + wet swimsuits

23 - shinyu + burnt toast

[ourtimeisrunningouttt]

POV: You're in love w Junho

[yawn-junn]

★ Kpop Boys 2 ★ pt.1 ★ pt.3 ★

★Riize★ ★EVNNE★

★TWS★ ★Zb1★

★Tbz★ ★p1harmony★

★Pow★ ★SuperKind★

★Nomad★ ★TEMPEST★

[soobinskii]

rivr as a boyfriend !

warnings : bf!rivr | fluff & smut.

bf!kangsu, who kisses you softly, knowing exactly how to. his plush lips pressed against yours, fit like two puzzle pieces.

bf!kangsu, who takes you out on simple dates. shopping, cafes, anime stores, kpop stores, parks, etc.. whenever the two of you go out, you always make the best of it; rain or shine.

bf!kangsu, who texts you all the time while he's gone. asking how you are, if you need anything, just checking in.

bf!kangsu, who cuddles you in any way possible, holding you tight as if you're grounding him. he needs to be as close as possible to you.

bf!kangsu, who always says the sweetest things with a bright smile on his face. nothing but adoration in his eyes.

bf!kangsu, who loves watching movies and animes with you. he always picks out the best snacks & the perfect films.

bf!kangsu, who always knows how to make you happy. buying your favorite foods and, telling you the sweetest things.

bf!kangsu, who is always touching you. he always has to rest his head in your lap, hold your hand, have a hand in your back pocket; anything will do for him, even intertwined pinkies. he just wants to feel the skin to skin contact.

bf!kangsu, who has many chapsticks. buying flavors that you like, just so you'll kiss him more. just so you will always remember him when you have a sweet, or a fruit.

bf!kangsu, who likes staying in with you. he loves lazy makeout sessions on the couch, in bed, anywhere. as long as you're with him he doesn't mind.

bf!kangsu, who's good with his mouth. talking, finding the right words to say. kissing, kisses that leave you wanting more; chasing his lips.

bf!kangsu, who enjoys making out while you're ontop, or beside him.

bf!kangsu, who's hands run down your sides. he knows what to do to get you riled up, telling you exactly what he wants. he says the dirtiest things so bluntly.

bf!kangsu, knows exactly where to touch you, the right spot to make you cum faster. the exact motion of his hips that'll get you whimpering. the exact spot to bite and suck on your neck, the spot that makes you mewl and arch your back into him.

bf!kangsu, loves missionary. he loves seeing your face. wants to see your face twist up in pleasure as you unravel on his cock.

bf!kangsu, who's favorite pasttime is eating you out. loves the taste of your sopping heat on his tongue. savoring it, sucking you up like you're his last meal.

bf!kangsu who can't make you come just once. he needs to see it multiple times and engrave it into his memories, maybe even his camera roll.

bf!kangsu, who will absolutely wreck you and then yap and blab about the nerdiest shit. talking about his favorite animes and what the characters roles are.

bf!kangsu who will play soft music in the background after you guys settle down. he holds you tight, pressing his face into yours.

a/n : rivrbrainrot pls rivr kiss me. i hope you enjoyed !! <3

[badtitude]

≡ YOUR SONG !! JEONG JUNHO

(in which you’re most beautiful melody in his life ๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : 1218 words : fluff + gf!reader : this is literally just me working on my writing, i like how it came out but im open to advice/feedback + reblogs are always appreciated!!

Words sometimes feel so bland when they’re not accompanied by a melody. In many ways, he came to find that that was what you brought to the relationship, a sweet entrancing melody.

It wasn’t imposing, just a subtle sequence of the most beautiful notes. It felt like being lost in a dream, every time he’d set his eyes on you he’d find himself back in that musical paradise. Perhaps it was a spell you had cast on him, one that made everything synthesize with you.

It was always there, from the first time you met on that seemingly unfortunate Sunday morning. The day had yet to begin but it was already going against your favor.

An early morning after an eventful night, making your way home at the peak of the day hoping to stay in your bed for the rest of the day after a good shower. You had it all planned out in your head, but you just had to loose your keys. So you stood there in front of your dorm apartment, head resting against the door, trying to think of a solution but all you could do was doze off.

Once you put yourself to it, it was easy to find the keys. However it wasn’t easy walking all the way back to your friends’ place in the late October rain.

By the time you arrived you were drenched from head to toe, shivering from the autumn chills. You probably couldn’t remember his face when he opened the door to you, a mix of surprise and wonder. “How did you get into such a drastic situation?” was written on his face as he let you into the house, eyes lingering even though he was initially headed out.

Without thinking further about it he followed you in, shutting the door behind him. Your friends must have still been asleep for a stranger to be the one handing you a towel, taking your wet jacket off your body. You tried racking your brain for any memory of his eyes, as yours met his, for less than a second surely but it felt like a moment beyond time. You thought maybe you could remember his hands, that held gently onto you as he sat you down but he was entirely new to you.

Despite the fact that he was unknown to you, every move he made seemed so familiar. There was something so delicate in his allure, you couldn’t help but stare at him as he patted down your wet skin, from your face to your palms.

The feeling was mutual, from the moment he saw you he felt drawn towards you, at first it may have been a friendly gesture but as he got closer the feelings also evolved.

“I feel like you’re going to get sick if you stay in those. I’ll get you some dry clothes from Sangha.” He pulled the corners of the towel on your shoulder, wrapping you in the slight warmth it brought. A smile creeped up on your lips as he turned away walking off to your friend’s room.

It was funny in some way, it felt like he wasn’t supposed to be a stranger to you and yet he was. The more you got to know him the more you hated that he was ever just that.

In that day alone you felt something you had rarely ever felt, even less with a stranger. As you cleaned the house from the damages of the party with the goal of finding your lost keys, you got to know more about him.

“How come we’ve never met?” you looked up at him as you sat on the couch, holding onto the found keys you had been searching for together for the past thirty minutes. He walked over taking a seat beside you, resting his head on the backrest.

“It’s funny right?” He turned over to you with a smile, you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight. Your eyes fluttered as you looked anywhere away from him, you couldn’t even hide your flustered expression as his gaze followed.

Eventually you remembered you needed to get home since you had your keys and so you got up from the couch, blurting out words to excuse yourself without showing that he was the reason you couldn’t stay put.

“I’ll drive you, I have to head out as well.”

So you ended up stuck with him in a car this time, with no emergency exits. He, unlike you enjoyed the feeling you brought him even with the short time you knew each other.

Sitting there in the car with you through the damp roads cleared up the dulled out sound that had been resounding from the moment he opened the door.

It wasn’t a long drive to your place but for some reason it felt longer than walking earlier. You tried to keep your eyes forward towards to road but you never realized when your eyes ended back on him.

In the same way he watched you rest your head on the window, glancing from the road to his side where you were rested. The thought of placing his hand between the glass and your head through the slightly bumpy roads came up often but instead he tightened his grip on the wheel.

Eventually you got to your place, but it was harder to just walk away as you imagined you would do. You sat there for a couple seconds in silence before he spoke up for you.

While you saw the thundering in your heart as a warning sign, he felt it was a song that brought him closer to you, the louder it became the better.

Every step you took together from that morning lead you to this moment where your love for each other exceeds words. Without the melodies those words came with, there was a sort of vacancy waiting to be filled.

It just so happened that every moment spent in your company was the lost symphony that came to fill up all the words spoken. In every glimpse of a wrinkle that came with the bright smile that you wore, a string was plucked resounding an echo of a melodic sequence of notes. Just in that recurring sound he could feel a small buildup, like every fragment of love he had ever felt for you was brought back into his heart.

It always made you laugh, the way your smiles always resulted in a soft kiss. You couldn’t help smiling whenever you were with him, he was one of the only things that felt right in the mess of your life so you’d giggle, grimace, grin, unconsciously waiting for his lips.

The subtle curve that followed the sight of your own, watching him get closer to your face, letting his hands cup your cheeks as he watched your shyness resurface. Shaky eye contact the closer he got till the flutter as your eyes shut close, letting his lips press against yours.

Kissing you was like piecing the puzzle together, maybe that why he did it so often. Pulling you close enough to feel every inch of your body, tasting you delicately making sure to savor every flavor you brought with your beautiful song playing, the complete experience.

[starktonyx]

this bucky with this steve

[chxrryhansen]

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

nomad steve is a big fat fuckin MUNCH. idc idc idc. nobody can change my mind. that man eats pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner. he is STARVED.

you wake up? his head is in between your thighs. your working? he wants you to sit on his face while you do it. your doing the dishes? best believe that man is on his knees tongue deep inside your pussy desperate to have you cream all over his face. making comments like

“you just looked so good baby i couldn’t help it, had to get a taste of you”

“you like it when daddy sucks on your clit while you finish your chores? yeah? fuckin dirty girl”

“fuck honey, cum in daddy’s mouth, come on give it to me”

“pussy tastes like fuckin heaven”

one thing he does not stand for is hovering. when he tells you to sit on his face, he means sit on it. he’ll be grabbing your hips, pulling you down onto his face, his rough beard rubbing against your thighs while his tongue explores your dripping heat and you know damn well he eats it in the morning so he can smell your pussy on his facial hair during the day, his tongue darting out to lick over his moustache, savouring the taste of your juices.

your spread missionary as he suckles and nibbles on your clit, his fingers fucking into you at a desperate pace, missing the taste of your cream even though he’s already had you twice today, his mouth opening wide as you writhe and squirt on his tongue, watching him as he moans and grunts, his hips rocking into the mattress beneath him as he fills his boxers with hot n sticky ropes of cum

“jesus christ” he breathes, “got me cumming in my pants like a damn teenager sweet girl, thats how fuckin good your pussy tastes.”

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Desert Bandit - DubCon

Yandere! Desert Bandit who rules his tribe with an iron fist. Heartless, he's called. His soul as unmoving and unkind as the desert itself.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who prays to no God but the desert and her bleached bones.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who dreams every night of a woman, a lover as dear to him as water in the hamada.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who finds your caravan by pure luck. People seldom travel this route - the springs are fickle and even one dried well is a death sentence.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who watches from a distance, dipping behind the dunes if anyone looks his way for too long.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who hears the desert wind whispering in its sibilant way and knows this caravan is special somehow. Who calls his band together to raid you, even though they've already hit three camel trains in the last week.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who waits for nightfall before he brings steel and fire and choas down on you. Who revels in the blood he spills, each drop an offering to the desert.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who sees a figure running from him, their cloak streaming behind them. Yandere! Desert Bandit whose blood is up, who wants nothing more than a good hunt.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who rides you down, his scimitar close enough to cut your cheek before you dive away from him.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who leaps from his horse without even stopping her. Who looks to you less a man and more a jinn. How else could he be so quick and so cruel?

Yandere! Desert Bandit who catches your wrist as you swing your dagger at him, laughing like you're nothing but a hare in his trap.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who sees your face and feels his blood turn to ice.

It's you. The woman from his dreams.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who realises suddenly that they were no mere dreams. No, they were a premonition, a promise. A gift from the desert herself.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who won't let his promised bride slip away, no matter how you twist and turn in his grasp. Who grips your wrist so tightly you have no choice but to drop your dagger.

Yandere! Desert Bandit with eyes rimmed in kohl, glinting gold with the reflected firelight. Glinting gold with lust.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who brings his sword to your throat and threatens to spill your heart's blood all over the thirsty sand if you don't come with him.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who forces you onto his horse and is quick to climb up behind you. One arm wrapped around your waist so he can savour the curve of your body. A woman in his arms, his woman.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who calls to his men to meet him at sunrise so that he can steal a few hours with you.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who feels your hips rubbing against him in the saddle, no matter how fast or slow he rides. Who has to grit his teeth against his desire.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who smells of smoke and musk and blood.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who rides almost half the night to bring you to an oasis.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who leads you to pool of water and commands you to drink. Who watches the water drip down your neck and catch on your collarbones.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who has never been more desperate to lap up spilt water, even with a reservoir to infront of him.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who sits down in front of you and unwraps his litham. His hair is dark and smooth as oil. It falls past his shoulders and he gruffly tells you to brush and braid it.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who wants to moan when he feels your nails running along his scalp and neck.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who slowly turns to face you when you're done. He's on his knees like a supplicant and he doesn't even know it.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who rests his hands on your thighs. You fear the heat of him - his hands, his eyes - will surely burn you alive.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who offers you a choice. You can stay here in the oasis and he'll leave you as you are - virginal, untouched.

Or he can make you his bride. On this night, in this place.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who watches your breath hitch, who sees the doubt creep across your face.

Why?  You ask. Why not just take what you want?

Yandere! Desert Bandit who plays with your hair while he speaks. Who does it so absent mindedly that it's almost proprietary. Like he owns you already.

I can steal gold and jewels. I can steal the breath from a man's lungs and the life from his body. But this, this one thing, must be given willingly.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who watches your heart war within you. The desert has you trapped more tightly than chains or bars. Even in an oasis, you can't survive on your own. You need him.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who holds perfectly still as you lean forward and kiss him. It's chaste almost, a shy press of your lips against his. And he's thinking that there'll be nothing chaste between you before the night is done.

You don't know it but a kiss given willingly is all he needs to appease the desert.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who lays his palm across the nape of your neck and pulls you back to him. Who bites at your lips until you give in and open your mouth. Who holds you in place when you try and pull away from his tongue and its ruthless advances.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who guides your hand to his cock and groans at just the touch of your fingers through his clothes. Who throws his head back and grits his teeth when you hesitantly stroke him, your hands so much smaller and softer than his own.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who watches you through the tangle of hair that's blown across his face. His little blushing bride. His desert prize.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who knows only roughness and cruelty. Whose first instinct is to throw you down and rip the clothes from your body. Who has to dig his hands into the sand to stop himself from doing just that.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who lays you down on the soft sand, the firelight casting his face in flickering shadow. There is more than lust there, though you can't see it.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who runs his hands slowly down your waist, grabbing the fat of your hips before moving lower. Your thighs are squished closed and he works his fingers into your flesh until he practically pries them apart.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who leans down and spits on your cunt and uses his fingers to work it in.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who clicks his teeth in irritation when you look away from him. Who grabs your jaw and guides you back.

Yandere! Desert Bandit whose fingers keep digging into your cheeks as he gets ready to enter you. He sees the doubt, the fear, the guilty lust in your eyes and he wants to drink it all in.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who tries so damn hard to be gentle and slow. But once he has the tip in he can't even try to hold himself back.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who slams himself the rest of the way in. Who snarls through his gritted teeth like an animal and digs his hands into the flesh of your hips.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who doesn't even register the way you scream or try and twist away from him. He has you now and he's going to fuck you hard and fast until he's satisfied.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who pounds into you with all those years of longing and lust and nights when he would have fucked just about anything because he dreamt of you.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who uses your hips to pull you onto his cock with every thrust. His escaped hair hanging around his face and his canines gleaming.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who hooks one arm around your lower back and literally lifts you off the ground so he can go deeper.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who leans forward and bites into your tits. Hard enough to leave bruises that turn purplish blue by the morning.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who deep down in his conscious mind knows he's hurting you like crazy. But it's all animal instinct in control and he doesn't stop even though you're begging him to please stop, please, it hurts.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who slams into you as deep as he can when he comes. Who forces a rough, biting kiss onto you even though you try and turn away.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who digs his hands into the sand next to your head and just spends a minute trying to get his breath back.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who finally pulls out of you. Who slowly becomes human again.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who realises his bride is a crying, bleeding mess under him. Who makes you wrap your legs around his waist so he can slowly pick you up.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who walks into the water and holds you close as the blood and tears wash away.

Yandere! Desert Bandit who coos at you until you lift your head from his neck and look at him. He looks apologetic almost, but his gold eyes are still filled with want, with devouring lust. You are the bandit's bride and there's no escaping it.

He truly was the worst of thieves.

[reren-art]

first time modeling in 3D this took me 93917$8272 hours but it was worth it for the Tamagotchi sevika she looks so silly

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Heating Up |

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing(s): Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Steve Rogers

Warnings: A/B/O Themes, Heat, Polyamory, Oral (F), PinV Sex, Knotting, Two sickly sweet alphas who adore their baby — if I’ve missed any let me know.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: Well hello enjoyers of my work I’m so sorry I abandoned you but life came at me fast. Having a puppy is hard work and before I knew it he was almost a year old and I hadn���t posted in a long time. I had surgery also so with everything going on I haven’t had time to write but hopefully I’ll get back to it. For now please enjoy a lil snippet from my drafts you beautiful souls.

This has not been looked over thoroughly forgive my mistakes!!

Your mates were concerned to say the least. You’d spent all but the better half of this week avoiding them, choosing to spend most of your waking hours cooped up in your room instead—only leaving to eat when both men had vacated the house or were tucked up in the much larger bed in the master bedroom.

“Steve have you seen my shirt?” A half naked Bucky stomps in, a scowl marring his perfect features. His bonding mark on perfect display above ropes of muscle that rippled and stretched at each little movement he made.

Steve only hummed, jutting his chin out in the direction of the closed door, your separate little bedroom.

“Thought I couldn’t hear her sneaking out while you were showering, I saw her come back with it not even five minutes ago.” Steve tossed the contents of his frying pan into the air, making sure to catch everything again effortlessly.

This hadn’t been the first time Bucky or Steve’s clothing had vanished into thin air this week. Just the other day Steve and Bucky had gone to training, each of them discarding their clothing in a pile before showering. When they finished the pile was nowhere to be found. They’d tried to question you, Steve pulling on the handle of the closed door but it was locked.

They both had a sneaky suspicion about what was up but you hadn’t had anything since dating the Alphas. It would be strange for it to happen now, right?

They let your strange behaviour continue, you weren’t harming anyone but Bucky was chomping at the bit to see you again. The more reserved of the two had become quite smitten with you, his bonding mark itched when you weren’t joined at the hip and the itch was becoming too much to bear. He waited until Steve was distracted before picking the lock of your room and stepping in.

The first thing that hit him was your scent, heavy in the air, its cherry undertones strong and almost overpowering, he could almost taste it. His alpha brain clicked instantly and told him to leave you alone but his human side craved your contact.

You weren’t in the bed, the shower running let him know exactly where you were. The perfect cover for him. The white sheets had been thrown on the floor, the bed littered in Steve and his shirts and other discarded clothing. It took him only a second to realise that the arrangement was intricate and thought out. A nest.

“What? Get out!” You snarled from behind him, teeth bared and eyes crazy, your body wrapped in a little towel. He blinked at you for a second before promptly apologising for the intrusion and slinked out of the room, jumping lightly at the loud slam and click of the lock.

“She’s in heat.” Steve groaned from his spot in the hall. Your sweet scent had wafted throughout the house, alerting Steve of your vulnerability. His cock hardened in his pants as his pupils dilated, matching the same look Bucky had.

Both of your poor alphas went to bed painfully hard, trying to ignore your soft yowls from the other room. You tried to hold off, deal with the feeling on your own but you couldn’t, you needed them.

-

Steve awoke instantly at the creak of their door, his nose twitching at your smell. He glanced over to Bucky who clutched your pillow, still fast asleep.

Your whimpers grew closer, the bed dipping under your weight as you crawled onto the mattress, until you straddled Steve.

“Stevieee,” you moaned weakly, your hips grinding into his brief covered crotch, your pussy hot against him. You whined as his length twitched against you, hardening easily.

“Oh angel, you’re in heat?” He asked, his large hands helping you move. When you nodded he snarled, flipping you both over until your head made contact with the pillow in Bucky’s arms, Steve’s head nuzzling into your neck, his teeth nipping and licking at your bonding mark. The ministrations had your sweet scent flowing from you in waves. The scent woke Bucky up, his hot breath on the side of your face as he growled lowly.

“Babygirl, you finally come around?” He chuckled at the pathetic sound that fell from your lips, your hand carding through Steve’s dirty blonde locks as he kissed down your almost naked body. Your panties clung to you as another wave of slick fell from you.

“Don’t k-know why…mm Stevie…just felt hot and needy,” you babbled, tears pooling in your water line as you looked up at Bucky. He thought you looked absolutely ravishing, your lip petted and swollen from your lip biting, your body flushed and glistening already.

“You shouldn’t have held back from us omega, you know we live to serve you.” You cried out at his words, nodding before leaning up slightly to slot his lips with yours.

Steve’s chuckle vibrated against your core as he watched how desperate you were. Steve didn’t mind that you and Bucky had such a close relationship, you were his first after all, but he knew you loved him too. Especially when he suckled on your sweet scent through your cotton panties.

“Mmm Stevieee,” your head fell back onto the sheets, your mouth gaping as your eyes fell shut, the fingers in his hair tugging tightly.

“You like that angel? Like your Alpha tasting you? Taste so sweet omega, so fucking sweet.” He growled, hooking a finger into the gusset of your panties before devouring your pussy.

Your sweet moans and whines were like music to your Alphas ears, your hips grinding up and practically riding Steve’s bearded face. You came undone when his nose nudged your sensitive little bud, your cunt gushing over his bearded face. You didn’t even know you could leak that much.

“Oh pleasepleaseplease Alpha, need your knot so bad, so so so bad,” you sobbed, uncaring of who’s knot you got, you just needed to be filled.

“Ok babygirl, alphas got you ok? We’ll let Stevie fuck that weeping cunt first alright, since he was such a good boy and made you cum” Bucky moved so he was sitting behind you, his arms holding your hips while Steve slipped your panties off before moving each of your feet to rest on his bulging thighs, spreading you out for the blonde haired man.

You keened at the sight of Steve’s long length, the curve of his cock decorated in thick, rope like veins leading to a fat tip. He might not have been as thick as Bucky but he still stretched you out nice.

You both moaned in tandem with each other as Steve sunk into you, his head grazing the rigid skin of your sweet spot making you clench around him almost painfully.

“Ohh fuck angel so tight, mmm relax lemme breed that sweet pussy ‘mega” he was panting already, balls slapping against you as he fucked you deeply, making sure you could feel everything. Your soft noises mixed with the slick slapping sound and wet squelching filled the room, your pussy gushing all over the sheets. You must’ve looked pathetic, wailing for your alphas cock to breed you full.

To both of them though, you were the sexiest fucking thing ever. Bucky lipsed down your neck, whispering sweet nothings to you as Steve picked up his pace.

“Ohh there we go babygirl, taking it like a fucking champ. Stevie gonna breed you full of his pups yeah? Look at how soaked you’ve got him, such a good little omega”

Bucky’s filthy words paired with Steve’s swelling knot sent you over the edge, your screams reverberating off the walls—neighbours be damned. Steve followed suit, pressing as deep as he could into you before spilling his seed, his knot swollen to full size to prevent anything from slipping out.

You might’ve blacked out, you don’t know, the only thing you could vaguely register was Steve’s teeth biting down on your dark mark, causing another shockwave of your orgasm to shoot through you.

“There we go babygirl that’s it took it so well, ohh my fucking god” Steve’s chest rumbled with laughter as he settled, grabbing the water Bucky handed him and gulping down gratefully before helping you take a drink yourself.

Both of them moved so that you lay on top of Steve, waiting for the swell of his knot to settle. Bucky’s fingers brushed through your locks, his head laying on Steve’s other pec so he could kiss you gently.

“Take a little nap babygirl ‘cause once Stevie’s knot is gone I’m gonna fucking ruin that cunt, ok?” Despite the sweet way he spoke you knew Bucky meant every single word of it. And your pussy throbbed with excitement.

“We are never gonna survive this” Steve joked after you’d fallen asleep, his hand running up and down your bare arm. Bucky laughed in agreement before speaking,

“We’ll give it our best shot.”

-

[luxthestrange]

HOUSAMO Incorrect quotes#35 Kitty got catnip

Nomad: My wife will be upset if you keep touching me like that on my chest...

Mc*Smilling at him in the hospital bed*I am your "Wife"~

Nomad:*Looks at you in his anesthesia brain, his heartbeat speeding up seeing you and doing a smolder*...S'up~

Mc*Chuckles seeing his mood change and trying to flirt with you*

[slytherinshua]

NOMAD AS ROMANCE TROPES

genre. fluff. angst. headcanons. warnings. toxic friends in doy's part. jiwon's is pretty angsty + alcohol mention. slightly angsty in rivr's?? playful bullying in junho's. junho's was written first so it's slightly different than the rest and i'm too lazy to rewrite it to match so just ignore that. not proofread. pairing. nomad x fem!reader (separate). wc. 3.3k. (600-700 per member). request. no. a/n. been cooking this up for a while and i'm pretty happy with how it game out hehe :D (literally just written for @eternalgyu basically cause who else is reading for nomad). net. @kstrucknet @chrimatanet

HONG DOEUI ﾐ ENEMIES TO LOVERS + CONTRACT RELATIONSHIP

“How much are you going to pay me to pretend to be your boyfriend?” Doeui asked with his arms crossed, teasing you with a lift of his eyebrow. He knew he was in the better position, and he revelled in seeing you embarrassed and having to beg for his help. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have lied saying you were dating a guy for over a year now to your friends. And maybe you should have found some other person to fill in, but the truth was, you didn’t know anyone you could ask other than Doeui. Sure, you hated the fact that he knew almost all your secrets, and there were no fond feelings you kept towards the guy. But he knew your boundaries and respected them, unlike other past ‘friends’. Whatever dirt he had on you, he had enough decency to make sure it never spilled past his lips.

“100,000 won per day. Every time you piss me off, a deduction of 20,000. Okay?”

The corner of his lip jumped up, a self-satisfied smirk taking over his features, “Make it 150,000.”

“Deal.”

God, what had you gotten yourself into?

Although you spent 3 days regretting and dreading your decision, on the first day of the contract, Doeui showed up right on time. Instead of his usual zip-up hoodies and beanies, he had adorned a simple cardigan and jeans. His earrings, rings, and chains were all gone, and even his hair was styled neatly. When you questioned him about it, he just gave you a shrug and a slight smile.

“Thought I could sell the act better if I didn’t look like a jerk.”

“Oh, so you admit that you did before?”

“You hated when I dressed like that, and that’s why I did it.” His eyes stared at you as the words fell from his mouth, and something twisted in your chest at the look he gave you.

Something about hearing that he thought about you enough to know about what would make you pissed and what you liked. As stupid as it sounded, no one had given you that much thought before. Even your friends who you got into this contractional mess for didn’t think about you that much. You knew they weren’t good people to hang around. You knew that deep down, they would drop you in half a second if they got tired of you. But you were scared of losing the only people you had in your life, even if they weren’t truly there for you. You didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t want to feel like an outcast again.  

The meeting with your friends went well. They seemed impressed that you could actually pull someone like Doeui. If they knew you were lying, they would definitely drop you in an instant. It took an uncomfortable amount of convincing for them to believe that he was actually in love with you. Kissing him in front of your friends was awkward. 

Not really the kissing part, but the watching. Something about Doeui’s lips felt right. You wished you didn’t have 5 pairs of watchful eyes on you the entire time. You couldn’t memorize the feeling of his skin when you were so aware of the gazes on you two.

A week went by and the same routine stayed. 150,000 left your bank per day, just as you had promised. Each day, you found yourself trying to delay meeting up with your friends, if only to spend just another few minutes alone with Doeui. It was becoming clearer that something had switched. The man who used to piss you off was the very same one who provided you with any comfort. 

He seemed to catch onto you although you had tried to hide it for a while. And when he asked you to tell him the truth, you found yourself spilling all your feelings without a second thought. Your fears, your doubts, your secrets. He knew them all by the end of it. But unlike your fake friends who would’ve surely laughed in your face, he soothed you with a kiss and promises that you knew held a weight you could rely on.

PARK SANGHA ﾐ CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS

“Remember our first day of middle school?” You ask while staring at the ceiling. The break between each sentence was so quiet you could hear every breath Sangha took. But it was comfortable. Everything felt like home when you were with him.

“Yeah?”

“I was so anxious that you wouldn’t be in the same class section as me. I almost cried looking at the list of names cause I missed yours the first time I looked at it.” You giggled, reminiscing about your childhood.

“You know I’d always find a way to be with you in class.” Sangha stated as a fact, rolling his eyes playfully. He shifted over to his side, cheek squished against the pillow. Your gaze fell to look at him, eyes meeting halfway. You both giggled.

It had been so long since you had a sleepover like this. They were almost every other night during elementary, and still at least once a week during middle school. You were always inseparable. High school was hard on you both, but you got through it together.

“Remember when you forced me to do a scary movie marathon with you on Halloween?” He smiled.

You grinned, “How could I ever forget that? You screamed like a teenage girl and hugged me the entire time.”

“It was scary!”

“It was literally Coraline.” 

“So?! I kept thinking about buttons getting sewn on my eyes.” He shuddered and you let out another laugh, wrapping the blanket tighter over your body. 

It was a bit chilly, and you were ever aware of the heat radiating off of Sangha’s body. It was just slightly too far away for you to benefit from, though. As Sangha continued rambling about horror films and his squeamishness towards the genre, you could only focus on the chill that ran up your spine and how you wish you were wrapped up in his arms instead of the blanket. 

That was weird. You had never wanted to cuddle with Sangha before. Sure, he was your best friend and you loved him, but you barely ever hugged him.

“Are you shivering? I told you to turn up the thermostat.” Sangha laughed, pulling on your arm. “Here, you can leech off of my warmth.”

Your eyes widened as he wrapped his arms around you, the chill immediately fading as you felt his body warmth. You shifted, head resting on his arm like a pillow. His face was close to you, and the blanket comfortably rested over both of you. 

You’d never been this close to him.

“Thanks.” You said quietly, gulping down a nervous lump in your throat. He was so pretty up close. Was he always this pretty?

He was your best friend— you shouldn’t be feeling nervous around him. You grew up with him. But you hadn’t been this close in years, and it was starting to affect you all too quickly. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, and it had your heart racing a mile a minute.

“Still cold?” 

You shook your head slowly, feeling quite the opposite temperature you had a minute ago. You could feel heat creeping up your neck and spreading to your cheeks. 

“This feels… different.” You mustered your voice, although it still came out in a hesitant whisper.

“Do you not like it?” Sangha questioned, loosening his arms around you.

“No, I like it.” You caught his wrist before he could pull back from you completely, guiding it back to your waist. He breathed out, a smile growing on his lips. 

“I think I like you, you know.” His words were soft and sweet. You could feel the honesty in them. Of course, Sangha would never lie to you. You smiled, and despite your racing heart, you leaned in to press your lips to his. 

It definitely wasn’t what you had originally planned to happen on your first sleepover with your best friend in almost 2 years, but you couldn’t say you were disappointed with the results. He wasn’t just confined to that label anymore either, and now you could proudly call him your boyfriend. 

KIM JIWON ﾐ FALLBACK

Jiwon knew that he was your second choice. Someway or another, there always seemed to be a reason you wouldn’t choose him. He was tired of it. Tired of being thrown around and played with. Tired of being used when you needed it and discarded when you were done. He knew you were bad for him, but he couldn’t find a way to leave you for good.

His heart betrayed him, racing whenever he heard your voice, throwing all logic and sense out the window. He went through the same cycle, convincing himself that he needed to leave you, that you were no good for him. But he always failed. All you had to do was look into his eyes, ask him to stay, and he would. 

It was another one of those nights, where you had crashed at his place after another fight with your ex-boyfriend. You’d probably still choose your ex over him given the choice, wouldn’t you? He wished that he could say he wouldn’t choose staying with you over leaving, but that would be a lie. He was too hung up on the what if’s, dreaming about what could be instead of facing reality. 

He rinsed a washcloth under the sink in the bathroom, making sure the temperature was cold. Wringing it out, he shuffled back to the couch where you were passed out. You had shown up drunk, Jiwon could tell that much, and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the armrest. 

He placed the cool cloth on your forehead, adjusting a blanket over your frame with a sigh. What was he doing? Why was he caring for you so gently when you would just leave him when the morning came? He took a seat on the floor beside you, staring at your sleeping face as a million thoughts ran through his head. The answer to his questions stared right at him. He was still too in love with you to let you go. The pain you made him go through was incomparable to the pain of letting you go. He wasn’t strong enough to live his life without you in it.

God, he knew it sounded beyond pathetic. 

You woke up a few hours later. Your earlier headache from the alcohol had subsided. As you sat up slowly, taking in the sight of Jiwon’s apartment, you felt a pang in your chest. You always ended up here when something went wrong. Because you knew Jiwon would make things feel right again. Deep down, you knew it was wrong for you to keep relying on him. What was he even getting in return? 

“You’re awake.” 

Your eyes flicked up to his frame, standing in the kitchen, filling a glass with water. You forced the lump in your throat down as he walked over to you and gave you the glass.

“I’m sorry.” The words fell from your lips before Jiwon could say anything. You looked up to his face, eyes glossy with regret, “To make you have to work so much— I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t.

“He’s not good for you.” Jiwon said, looking at your tired eyes.

“You don’t have to remind me of that.” You whispered quietly, guilt drowning your frame. You sipped the water, trying to ignore the uncomfortable tension that had settled in the room.

“Do you still love him?” 

“I don’t know how to stop loving him.” You said honestly. 

Jiwon's eyes fell. Everything made sense— he understood it all too well. How could he sit there and tell you what to do when he couldn’t even take his own advice? He didn’t know how to stop loving either.

SHIN KANGSU ﾐ RIGHT PERSON, WRONG TIME

You missed Kangsu. So badly. Every night you spent alone in your bed, surrounded by the empty walls that used to hold memories of him, you missed him more. Your breakup hadn’t ended on bad terms, which, ironically, made everything worse. 

You were just in different stages of life. A relationship wasn’t sustainable in the midst of graduating university and finding your dream career. While you were burdened with the stress of endless choices, Kangsu was struggling with rejection and finding himself. You knew that had you continued your relationship, the turbulence would’ve turned into countless fights and a worse breakup in the end.

But you still believed that Kangsu was the one for you. He felt so right. And you would give anything to have him back now that your life was more stable. You still had his number, although you were afraid to call. You had both promised to cut off contact so you could focus on yourselves. Were you in a good position to ask him to come back? What if he wasn’t ready? What if he didn’t want to? What if he had found someone else?

While you were busy overthinking it, staring at his contact with the old contact photo and heart that you had never deleted from his name, you accidentally pressed the call button. He picked up after the first 2 rings.

“Y/n?”

“Kangsu?” His name felt like deja vu on your tongue. You had repeated it so many times in your head, but saying it out loud brought you back to 3 years ago. 

“Why’d you call?”

You closed your eyes, hearing his soft voice root itself in your head, sure to not leave your mind for the next week. 

“I miss you.” There was no need to lie or pretend like you didn’t. You had always been honest with Kangsu. He never judged you, so there was never a need to conceal yourself or your feelings.

“Really?”

The small lilt in his tone made a flurry of butterflies rush to your stomach. A need to know everything that had happened in his life over the past years invaded your entire body. Before you knew it, you were standing up from your bed and shuffling to put your shoes on.

“Really.”

“Are you free?”

You hummed in affirmation. 

“30 minutes, our spot… Okay?”

“Okay.” You slipped on your coat and opened the front door, hearing similar shuffling from the other side of the phone. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if it would sound too desperate, but in the end you decided you didn’t care. “I need to see you.” 

There was a pause on Kangsu’s end, as he took in the yearning of your voice. “You’ll see me. I’ll be there, I promise.”

The 30 minutes spent getting to the park that you used to spend every evening at with Kangsu was both fast and slow at the same time. Impatient, anxious, worried, bittersweet; you couldn’t place exactly what you were feeling. You wanted to be back in his arms, the place you craved for years after you broke up. 

You found him sitting on the bench you always sat at, staring at the little bridge running over a small pond. When he saw you, he stood up instantly, eyes glued to your figure. 

He looked different. A good different. You could see the confidence in his face and more wisdom in his eyes. He seemed sure of himself just by the way he held his head on his shoulders. You could tell from just a look that the years apart had been well worth it. He had needed it, and now an even better version of him was facing you.

He pulled you into his arms before you could even run to them, and it all felt the same. His arms wrapped around your body, squeezing you gently. Your perfume hitting his nose, intoxicating his brain with everything he missed about you.

“I missed you.” His earnest words flooded your heart and you buried your head into his chest. Right person, right time.

JEONG JUNHO ﾐ ANNOYANCES TO LOVERS

Junho was always like a splinter in your finger, a pebble in your shoe, or a stitch in your side. Annoying, but never harmful enough to do any real damage. You both messed with each other for your own entertainment, only because he was the oldest friend you knew.

He was easy to play bully when you were younger. He was always shorter than you, with a wimpier frame and a squeakier voice. As six year olds, your harmless bickering and teasing never cut too deep. You’d make fun of each other’s toys in elementary school, or your outfits in middle. You groaned in annoyance whenever you were paired together for projects, spending the whole time bickering and ending up getting a low grade for it. 

By high school, you teased each other for getting a low score on a test, competing to see who would place lower in the class ranking (not that either of you were in the running for the top spots). But you both still ended up sitting together in the canteen when you found yourself friendless the first week. Junho was the only familiar person around you, despite the less than friendly dynamic you shared. While you certainly still bickered and annoyed each other, you could barely throw the low blows you used to. 

Puberty had hit Junho like a truck, gracing him with a tall muscular figure, and a much deeper voice. You could truthfully only admire how he had come into his own. But that didn’t mean you would stop getting a reaction out of him, although you couldn’t ignore how a certain fondness was starting to grow in your heart for him.

When you joined the soccer team, he showed up to practice to laugh whenever you tripped over your own two feet, only for him to be the same person to walk you to the nurse’s office. When he joined musical theater, you made fun of him whenever he was off-key, only to bring him flowers after his first show as the lead role. 

Your quick comebacks to his every teasing remark was a sense of familiarity that he didn’t want to lose. When feelings got into the mix with your regular banter was something neither you or Junho could pinpoint. What you did know is at some point, your eye rolls held all the fondness in the world and your playful smacks on the shoulder were a bit softer than usual. At some point, a sense of pride flooded your body when you looked at Junho and his accomplishments, and you started to voice how proud you were of him.

Whether small pats on the shoulder or tousling his hair (if you could reach), the message seemed to get across to him. The boy you had known since you were little had grown into the man you wanted to be beside you for the rest of your life. Him asking you out officially one late night on a walk surprised neither of you. You knew the feelings had been mutual for a while.

The shift to dating was natural as well. Maybe you were both a bit more caring and attentive than before. You were no longer too shy to hold his hand whenever you wanted (nor did you dismiss the thought whenever it came up, under the delusion that you could never like someone as annoying as Junho). He no longer debated whether bending down to kiss you was overstepping the boundaries of friendship (he had long since lost the war of fighting how much he adored you). But poking fun at each other would always be your love language, and that was a reality you were both more than content with. 

↳ nomad taglist: @eternalgyu,, @hursheys

[ourtimeisrunningouttt]

𝑵𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔

𝑫𝒐𝒚

Doy is definitely the canon route of the game, his face is on the cover and used in all the marketing. You, a seasoned visual novel player who's seen it all thought you had him all figured out. He'd be some sort of angry tsundere who's mean until halfway through the story. Oh how wrong you were. Doy is the sort of canon love interest who absolutely rocked your world with how much depth he had. He's an engaging love interest-- you only know just enough to keep you playing each chapter, hoping to learn more and more. He's the dependable love interest who's doing everything in his power to help the main character with the problems he faces, and tries to carry all the burdens himself. When you start reaching the end and showing him he can rely on others it's so rewarding, and it motivates you all the more to choose the right dialogue options and gain his trust. Eventually you become a fiend, doing everything to earn enough points to unlock the premium scenes where you can see him in a new light.

Think: Yamato from Psychadelica of the Black Butterfly

𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒂

Sangha waltzed into your life like some sort of fae, playfully casting a spell on you with his mischievous sense of humor and warm smile. Sangha was the love interest who brings the main character out of her comfort zone, and dares her to try new things. He makes no attempt to hide his affection for the main character, and loves finding new ways to get reactions out mc. He's the tease route, but he's still an absolute sweetheart and simply wants the main character to have fun and forget life's worries with him. This is the route that's made from spun sugar and leaves you feeling younger and lighter.

Think: Isora from 7scarlet minus the whole "is he a murderer subplot" he wasn't so its okay

𝑶𝒏𝒆

You were not expecting Jiwon to have the chokehold on you like he did, but here you are. Jiwon's the golden boy, the loyal knight, the one who can do no wrong. And yet, his route will have you sobbing anyways. Jiwon will go to bat for you with a smile on his face no matter what. He doesn't just want you to be safe, but happy. He makes sure you eat in the morning and he's always a gentleman, holding doors open for you and sheilding you from the rain with his coat. He's the pure love interest, the one that has you constantly wondering aloud, "how can someone this lovely exist?" He doesn't! He's a 2d animated boy who exists solely in the confines of your Nintendo Switch! But that's okay, because every day, when things get rough, you can open up his route and hear him tell you how everything will be alright bc he's by your side

Think: Alkaid from Lovebrush Chronicles

𝑹𝒊𝒗𝒓

Rivr is the textbook mysterious and calm love interest. He seems so mature, so rational, and all you want is to be able to shake up that perfect world and see what he's like on his toes. Rivr is welcoming to everyone, but guarded with his emotions, unless you make the right choices and start gaining enough love points, that is. Something about the main character keeps him coming back for more, he wants to know how you see the world, what you want from life. Eventually you uncover a deep well of emotions, and learn a lot about how to treat people from him. He learns a lot from you as well. His whole route about be about making peace with life and your place in it, and would give players a lot to think about.

Think: Saito from Hakuoki

𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐

Junho's the good ol' childhood friends to lovers route. And yet he's one that even the most ardent detractors of that trope can get behind. You normally don't play childhood friend routes, but he won you over by being the most supportive friend in other routes. Upon playing, Junho quickly becomes your comfort route, one you can play to relax as he and takes the main character to stargaze from rooftops or learn skateboarding from him. He's the gentlest giant and definitely the sort of love interest who is petrified at the idea of confessing. "What if I ruin our friendship!" Increase his love meter to get the rare, sought after ending where he initiates the confession instead of you.

Think: Hino from 7scarlet

[yawn-junn]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָHe Bullies you because he likes you...

❥Thanks Too: Junho, Nomad, Anon

❥Note: sorry if this is terrible it's almost 1am and I haven't slept in like 3 days or so, but I hope you enjoy

❥Taglist: no one yet but you can dm me or send an ask if you'd like to join

❥TW: slight Hogwarts AU : food : brief mention of dog shit : asshole!Junho : open ending :

❥Prompt: 9.) Witches and Wizards

❥10/10/24

Junho sat behind you in his usual assigned seat, playing with you're hair to get on you're nerves, tapping or poking you, sometimes using his magic to do something then blame it on you, resulting in you getting kicked out of class and sent to the principals.

Today was no different, the constant poking, tugging and pinching, annoyed you to no end. You couldn't really say anything because the teacher has his favorites, one of those favorites being Junho, "Psst' Junho whispered behind you, taking his wond and poking the inside of you're ear, the feeling made you jump and cover you're ear, leaning forward more so he couldn't bother you anymore.

Unfortunately, Junho had long arms, now pulling at the latch of you're bra, more than likely trying to undo it for whatever reason. Bending you're arm back to slapped his hand away making him chuckle "so mean" he muttered softly, you glanced back at him with an annoyed glare "leave me alone" you whispered out, you're tone laced with aggression. He shook his head no softly "where's the fun in that?" He chuckled.

before you could respond a loud slam of a book echoed from you're desk, snapping you're head towards the noise you seen the professor standing in front of you, his arms crossed over his black rob, black hair pooling from his scalp and a mean look covering his face, "Hallway" he said leaving no room for argument, you knew better than to back talk grabbing you're stuff you left the classroom with you're head down in embarrassment as the kids laughed quietly.

After class finished, Junho came up to you quickly the usual cocky look gone replaced with guilt "I'm sorry I didn't mean to get you kicked out" he apologized, holding out his hands which were holding a small sandwich wrapped in Saran wrap. "Dont apologize" you replied sure he annoyed you but you retaliated, his brows furrowed "no, I need too if I wasn't being an asshole then you could've stayed in class, as an apology I'll take whatever chores you have" he nodded to affirm his statement, you weren't going to decline the offer especially if it meant you didn't have to do anything.

Nodding you reached you're hand out taking the wrapped sandwich from him "thank you..." You replied he shook his head "don't thank me, Im sorry I've been so mean to you..." He sighed sitting next to you, although you half expected he would laugh in you're face and tell you he put dog shit in the sandwich, you could see how genuine he was being.

"You're just having fun" you shook you're head not really knowing what to say, he mirrored you're actions, "no, it's not that.....I'm....I'll tell you when the time is right okay?" He asked holding out his hand, almost as a silent truths, you nodded you're head gently shaking his. The small shake developed into a blooming friendship and possibly more...

[buckets-and-trees]

For Keeps This Time [Exiled Nomad Series]

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 11.7k Summary: May 21, 2018. Just the end of another workday for you - at least until someone you're not expecting shows up.

Content/Warnings: "fluffy" angst; repeated hook ups; Nomad Steve is still soft!dark and broken and a warning all his own; flirting and pining; explicit smut (breast play, oral: female receiving, vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex/ejaculation); likely beard burn; light dirty talk (there's talking, but it's not nasty dirty talk)

Author Note: I don't know what to tell you. At one point this was only 3.5k, and then suddenstly it was almost 12k, but I refused to even think about cutting a moment, and @vonalyn supported me in that madness.

Previous Part | Series

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Your Monday was over. 

The long days of summer were back, and so was he, leaning against your car like he had every right to be there.

Your heart stuttered and you froze mid-step, keys dangling from suddenly numb fingers. He was wearing his standard incognito outfit—dark jeans, plain t-shirt beneath an open jacket, baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. But there’s no mistaking that jawline, that beard, those broad shoulders that have pinned you down countless times.

There's a moment when seeing a ghost might be less shocking than finding Steve Rogers leaning against your car in the office parking garage. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you freeze mid-step, keys dangling from suddenly numb fingers. He's wearing his standard incognito outfit—dark jeans, plain t-shirt beneath an open jacket, baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. But there's no mistaking that jawline, that beard, those broad shoulders that have pinned you down countless times. 

It's been weeks since you've seen him. Not since that surreal April weekend when he'd nursed you through your illness with a tenderness that felt more intimate than any of your sexual encounters. He'd stayed for three days, making you soup, helping you shower, holding you while you slept off the fever. And then, like always, he was gone when you woke one morning, leaving nothing but rumpled sheets and a note that said ‘stay well’ in very precise handwriting.

"Steve," you breathed, your heart immediately hammering against your ribs. 

He pushed off from your car and stepped into the weak fluorescent lighting. His beard was fuller than when you'd last seen him a couple of weeks before, his hair longer and swept back from his forehead. He looked tired but there was something else in his expression too—an intensity that sent a familiar thrill down your spine. The kind that usually preceded being pressed against a wall.

"Hey," he said, voice low and rough.

You clutched your bag tighter, suddenly aware of your surroundings. The parking garage was nearly empty at this hour, just a few scattered cars belonging to others working late. Still, anyone could walk by.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, taking a cautious step forward. "Is everything okay?" 

Steve's lips quirked in a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Just wanted to see you." 

The simplicity of his statement knocked the air from your lungs. He wanted to see you. Not because he needed a place to hide, not because he was in town on a mission. Just because. 

"I..." you trailed off, unsure how to respond. 

Steve frowned, his eyes scanning your face, drinking you in. "Is this a bad night? I was in the area." A pause. "Thought I'd see if you wanted to grab dinner."

You blinked, momentarily thrown by the normalcy of his suggestion. Dinner. Like you were just two people who dated occasionally. Like he wasn't a fugitive superhero who appeared and disappeared from your life with alarming irregularity.

"Dinner?" you repeated, the word feeling strangely foreign on your tongue. This wasn't how things typically went between you two. "Like at a restaurant?"

Steve nodded, something almost hesitant in his posture. "If you want to. Or we could pick something up, take it back to your place." 

You studied him, trying to read what was happening behind those blue eyes. There was the usual intensity, yes, but something else as well.

He shifted his weight, and for the first time, you noticed a hint of uncertainty in his posture. "Unless you've got other plans?"

The question hung between you, loaded with implications. Did you have other plans? With someone else? You thought of the dating app you'd deleted from your phone in February, tired of swiping through faces that couldn't compare to his.

"Dinner sounds nice," you finally said, your voice soft. "But is it safe for you to be out like that?"

His lips quirked in a half-smile. "I've gotten pretty good at blending in. But somewhere quiet would be a safer bet."

The weight of his words settled between you. You unlocked your car with a beep that echoed in the concrete structure. "I know a place. On the edge of town. Family-run barbecue spot that's usually pretty empty on weeknights.”

"Perfect," Steve said, stepping closer. "Want me to drive?"

"You drove here?" You couldn't hide your surprise. Somehow you'd always imagined him appearing and disappearing like a phantom, not dealing with mundane things like traffic and parking.

His lips quirked up. "Had to get around somehow."

"We can take my car," you offered. "Unless you're worried about being seen with me."

Steve's expression darkened slightly. "I'm not worried about being seen with you. I'm worried about putting you at risk."

The honesty in his voice made your breath catch. You nodded, understanding the weight of what he was saying. "My car, then. I'll drive."

Steve walked the few steps beside you to your door, opening it for you. His fingers brushed yours as you slid past him into the seat, sending electricity up your arm despite the innocent contact. 

You took a deep breath to calm your racing heart as he walked around to the passenger side before opening the door and folding his large frame into your car. The interior suddenly felt much smaller with him occupying the space beside you. His scent—that familiar mix of clean soap and something distinctly him—filled your senses, bringing back a flood of memories.

The drive was quiet at first, a strange tension hanging in the air between you. Not the usual electric anticipation of clothes being torn off, but something more tentative, almost fragile.

This wasn’t the first time you’d been together without sex. But usually that was the first order of business, with conversation after - if the mood or time allowed. 

Except for last month. 

And the first day he’d met you. There’d been so much easy conversation those first few hours. 

You could do this. 

You stole glances at him at red lights, trying to decipher what was different this time. He seemed more pensive than usual, his gaze alternating between the passing scenery and your profile.

"It's not much further," you said, breaking the silence as you took a left turn.

Steve nodded, his large hand resting on his thigh, fingers tapping an irregular rhythm. You'd never seen him fidget before.

"How have you been?" he asked as you navigated through evening traffic, his voice soft in the enclosed space.

The question was so mundane, so normal that it almost made you laugh. How had you been? Missing him. Wondering if you'd see him again. Trying not to think about how tenderly he'd cared for you when you were sick.

But all of that flashed through your mind in an lurching instant, and you managed a normal answer of, "Good," while keeping your eyes on the road. "Busy with work. The Anderson project finally wrapped up last week."

"The one with the impossible deadline?" Steve remembered, glancing over at you.

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. He'd remembered. During those three days at the end of April, you'd rambled about work while feverish, complaining about deadlines and difficult clients, worried about your time out of the office at such a crucial point. You hadn't expected him to retain any of it.

"That's the one," you confirmed. "The client was actually happy with the results, despite all their last-minute changes."

Steve nodded, a hint of pride in his expression. "I knew you'd pull it off.”

“How’ve you been?" you asked.

Steve shrugged and made a noncommittal sound. "Same as always."

You wanted to ask what that meant—if "same as always" meant dangerous missions, narrow escapes, or something else entirely. But you knew better than to press for details about his other life, the one that kept him constantly moving, constantly hidden.

"Here we are," you said instead, pulling into the gravel parking lot of a weathered wooden building. A neon sign reading "Smokey's BBQ" buzzed in the window, casting a red glow over the handful of pickup trucks parked outside.

Steve surveyed the place with an appraising eye. "Looks perfect."

The restaurant was as quiet as you'd promised—just a few locals scattered at tables around the small dining room. A jukebox in the corner played old country music at a merciful volume. The middle-aged waitress who greeted you barely glanced at Steve, waving you toward a booth in the back corner.

"Best seat in the house," she drawled, dropping two laminated menus on the table. 

You slid into the booth across from Steve, watching as he positioned himself with his back to the wall, eyes automatically scanning the room. Always the soldier, always alert. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, softening the hard edges you were so familiar with. He removed his cap, setting it on the seat beside him, and ran a hand through his hair. 

The waitress returned with water glasses. "Y'all know what you want to drink?" 

"Beer, whatever's on tap," Steve said. 

"Sweet tea for me," you added.

When she left, silence settled between you again. Steve studied the menu with more concentration than barbeque options warranted. You found yourself watching his hands—those large, powerful hands that had touched every inch of your body, that had so gently washed your hair when you were sick. 

"What looks good?" you asked, if only to break the strange tension. 

Steve's eyes flicked up from the menu, catching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "Everything," he said, and you weren't entirely sure he was talking about the food.

You swallowed hard and forced your attention back to the menu. "The brisket's really good here. And the ribs. Actually, everything is pretty amazing." 

The waitress returned with your drinks, setting them down with practiced efficiency. "Ready to order?" 

Steve gestured for you to go first. 

"I'll have the pulled pork plate with mac and cheese and green beans," you said.

"And for you, hon?" she asked, turning to Steve. 

"Brisket and ribs combo," he said. "With all your sides." 

The waitress nodded, jotting down your orders. "Hungry man," she commented with a wink before walking away. "I’ll be back with some cornbread."

You smiled, remembering the super soldier metabolism that had him eating three times what a normal person would. 

Alone again, you found yourself studying Steve's face in the low light. There were new lines around his eyes, a faint scar - almost imperceptible- above his left eyebrow that hadn't been there before. You wondered what had happened, what battles he'd fought since you'd last seen him.

"You're staring," Steve said softly, his lips quirking into a half-smile. 

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. "Sorry. It's just... it's good to see you." 

His expression softened. "It's good to see you too." 

The waitress returned with a basket of cornbread, setting it between you with a flourish. "Fresh out of the oven, darlin’s. Enjoy."

The warm, sweet aroma filled the space between you. Steve reached for a piece, breaking it open as steam curled upward. The simple, domestic gesture made your heart clench. 

"So," he said, spreading butter on his cornbread, "tell me more about this Anderson project." 

And so you did. You let him ask countless questions and you told him every anecdote and detail, mundane or interesting, because it was safe territory to talk about. 

But also because it felt good to talk to him. 

Steve listened attentively, asking questions that showed he was genuinely interested, not just being polite.

And you supposed there was grounding truth to that interest and curiosity - yours was a normal life, uncomplicated, with stability, no need to be on the run. 

You didn’t ignore the gold in front of you though either, savoring your own piece of cornbread as it melted in your mouth, buttery and sweet. You watched as Steve devoured his third piece, a small smile playing at your lips. There was something oddly comforting about watching him eat, about seeing this human side of the man who seemed larger than life in so many ways.

"What?" he asked, catching your smile. 

"Nothing," you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... this is nice." 

Steve's expression softened, something vulnerable flickering across his features. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "It is." 

When the food arrived—enormous plates piled high with smoky meat and hearty sides—he dug in with enthusiasm.

"This is incredible," he said after swallowing a bite of brisket. "You weren't kidding."

There was something deeply satisfying about sharing one of your favorite places with him, about seeing him enjoy something so simple and normal. It tugged at parts of you that had been growing harder to ignore since his last visit. 

"How's your pulled pork?" he asked, gesturing with his fork.

"Perfect, as always." You offered him a bite, holding out your fork. Steve leaned forward, accepting the morsel, his eyes never leaving yours as his lips closed around the fork. 

His gaze held yours as he chewed thoughtfully, then nodded in approval.

"That is good," he agreed, then speared a piece of his brisket with his fork. "Try mine?"

You leaned forward, accepting the offering. The meat practically melted on your tongue, rich and smoky. You hummed in appreciation, and something shifted in Steve's expression—a warmth that made your chest tighten.

This wasn't just about satisfying physical needs anymore—this was dinner at one of your favorite places, sharing food, talking about your day. It felt dangerously close to dating.

"Good?" he asked, his voice slightly rougher than before. 

"Incredible," you confirmed, licking a drip of sauce from your lips . Steve tracked the movement, his eyes lingering on your mouth.

"So," you ventured, desperate to maintain the easy conversation, "how long are you in town this time?"

Steve's fork paused halfway to his mouth. He set it down carefully, considering his answer. "Not sure yet. Could be a few days."

Your heart leapt at the possibility of more than just tonight, but you kept your expression neutral. You'd learned not to expect anything, not to plan around his unpredictable appearances in your life.

A few days. Always just a few days.

"That's nice," you said, aiming for casual. "Any particular reason you're in the area?"

Steve met your eyes, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. "Like I said, I wanted to see you."

The simple honesty in his voice made your chest tighten.

That word echoed in your mind. Wanted. Not needed to hide, not needed to use your body for release. He'd come to town to see you, specifically. You took a sip of sweet tea to hide the sudden rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. 

"What about you?" Steve's question pulled you from your thoughts. "Any travel plans coming up?" 

"Nothing major," you replied, trying to match his casual tone. "My sister's coming to visit next month. We'll probably do some local sightseeing, make the rounds of the museums." 

"Your sister," Steve nodded thoughtfully. "The newlywed, right? How's married life treating her?" 

A warmth bloomed in your chest. He remembered your sister, remembered that she'd gotten married. 

But you squashed away all the feelings, hopes, suppositions. 

No blooming, no spiraling up or down. 

Just be here. Let this be this, you thought desperately. 

"She's doing well. Blissfully happy." You smiled, remembering your last video call with her. "They're still in that honeymoon phase where everything is perfect." 

Steve nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "That's good to hear." 

“They just bought a house,” you continued, “it's a fixer-upper, but they're enjoying the process. She sends me pictures of paint swatches and asks my opinion like I have any clue about interior design."

Steve chuckled, the sound warming something deep inside you. "And do you? Have a clue about interior design?"

"Absolutely not," you laughed. "But I'm very supportive. 'Yes, that shade of beige looks completely different from the other shade of beige.'"

His smile reached his eyes this time, crinkling the corners in a way that made your heart skip. You'd seen that smile so rarely.

"What?" you asked, catching the way his gaze lingered on your face.

"Just... it's nice to hear you laugh," he said. 

The simple honesty in his voice caught you off guard. You looked down at your plate, suddenly finding it difficult to meet his eyes. The air between you shifted, charged with something more complicated than desire. 

"I laugh," you said, aiming for a light tone but missing the mark. "You've heard me laugh before." 

"Not enough," Steve replied, his voice low. He reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours where they rested beside your glass. The touch was feather-light but sent electricity up your arm. "I like your laugh." 

You swallowed hard, unsure how to navigate this new terrain. This wasn't the Steve who showed up at your door with hunger in his eyes, who took what he needed and left before dawn. This was someone else—someone who remembered details about your life, who wanted to hear you laugh. 

"Well," you managed, "you can be pretty funny when you want to be."

His thumb traced slow circles on the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm. "Is that so?" 

"Mmm-hmm," you nodded, trying to ignore how such a simple touch was affecting you. "Like that time you were complaining about modern refrigerators having too many settings. Or when you tried to explain to me why vinyl records are superior to digital music."

His lips quirked into a half-smile. "I stand by both those opinions."

You laughed again, and Steve's expression softened even more.

The conversation flowed more easily after that, moving through safe topics—local news, a book you'd recently read, a movie Steve had managed to catch in some small theater in a town you'd never heard of. The whole time, you couldn't help but notice how normal it felt, how right, despite the extraordinary circumstances that had brought you together. 

When the waitress came to clear your plates, Steve's was impressively clean despite the massive portion. 

"Room for dessert?" she asked, eyeing Steve with newfound respect. "Our peach cobbler's fresh today." 

Steve glanced at you, a question in his eyes. 

"We should definitely share some," you said, unable to resist the hopeful look in his eyes. "The cobbler here is incredible."

"One peach cobbler, two forks," Steve told the waitress, who nodded approvingly.

"Coming right up."

When she walked away, a comfortable silence settled between you. Steve's fingers found yours again on the table, this touch more deliberate than before. His thumb traced the lines of your palm, studying your hand as if memorizing it.

"This is different," you said softly, unable to contain the observation any longer.

Steve's eyes met yours, serious and intense. "Different good or different bad?"

"Just... different." You hesitated, searching for the right words. "Usually by now we'd be..."

"Tearing each other's clothes off?" he finished, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent heat pooling in your core.

"Yes," you breathed, a flush creeping up your neck at the memories his words evoked. "Not that I'm complaining about that, but..."

"But this is nice too," Steve completed your thought, his eyes never leaving yours.

You nodded, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his intense gaze. "It is."

"But we can indulge in the other, too," Steve added, his voice dropping lower as his thumb traced a deliberate path across your wrist. "Later."

The promise in his words sent a familiar heat coursing through you. You swallowed hard, acutely aware of how public your current setting was. 

"I'd like that," you admitted softly. 

The waitress returned with a generous portion of peach cobbler topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream that was already starting to melt. She set it between you with two forks. 

"Enjoy!" she said with a wink before bustling away.

You dug your fork into the warm cobbler, scooping up a bite with ice cream and bringing it to your mouth. The combination of buttery crust, sweet peaches, and cold vanilla melted together perfectly on your tongue. You closed your eyes briefly, savoring the flavors. 

When you opened them, you found Steve watching you with an intensity that made your skin tingle. 

"Good?" he asked, his voice husky. 

"Try it," you encouraged, watching as he took a much larger bite than yours. 

His eyes widened slightly in appreciation as he chewed. "That is good," he agreed, already loading his fork with another substantial portion. 

You smiled, content to take smaller, slower bites as Steve worked his way through the dessert with enthusiasm. His appetite had always amazed you—another reminder of the super soldier beneath the casual clothes. You managed to claim three more bites before Steve claimed the last of it, scraping the dish clean with a boyish grin that made you grin.

Steve set his fork down on the empty plate. "Sorry. Didn't leave you much."

"It's okay. I didn't need much." You were already pleasantly full from your meal, content with the few bites of sweetness you'd managed to claim.

The waitress appeared with the check, placing it on the table between you. Before you could reach for it, Steve had already pulled out a worn leather wallet. 

"This is me," he said, counting out cash and laying it on the table. You noticed he left a generous tip.

"Thank you," you said, both for the meal and the gesture itself. There was something so ordinary about being treated to dinner, yet, again, it felt significant between you. 

Steve nodded, sliding his cap back on as he stood. "Ready?" 

As you walked outside, a thought suddenly occurred to you. 

"What about your car?" you asked, glancing up at Steve. "Do we need to go back and get it from my office?" 

Steve's lips quirked into a small smile. "Already taken care of. I put my bag in your trunk earlier." 

"You did?" You blinked in surprise, then narrowed your eyes playfully. "Breaking into my car now, Rogers?" 

He shrugged, not looking remotely apologetic. "I can just ride with you to work in the morning, get my things then." 

The casual way he said it—assuming he'd spend the night, assuming you'd want him to—sent a flutter through your stomach. There was something both presumptuous and endearing about it. 

"Pretty confident I'd say yes to dinner, weren't you?" you teased. 

He laughed. 

You both knew it was silly to debate since he’d spent many nights at your place uninvited and unannounced and all wanted and thoroughly enjoyed. 

"I was optimistic," Steve admitted, his voice low and warm. His hand found the small of your back as you approached your car, a gentle pressure that sent shivers up your spine. "Though I did have a backup plan if you turned me down." 

"Oh?" You fumbled with your keys, suddenly nervous in a way you hadn't been with him in months. "And what was that?" 

Steve leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Show up at your door later tonight anyway." 

A laugh bubbled out of you as you unlocked the car. "At least you're honest." 

The drive back to your apartment was charged with a new kind of tension—not the desperate need that usually accompanied his visits, but something slower, more deliberate. Steve's hand rested on your thigh, his thumb tracing idle patterns that made it difficult to concentrate on the road. 

"You're distracting me," you murmured, but made no move to remove his hand.

His thumb continued its lazy circles on your thigh. "Am I?" His voice was deceptively innocent, but when you glanced over at a red light, the heat in his eyes told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

The rest of the drive passed in charged silence, Steve's hand never leaving your leg, his touch becoming bolder as you neared your apartment. The familiar streets of your neighborhood came into view, and you felt a strange mix of relief and anticipation as you turned onto your block. 

The parking space in front of your building was miraculously empty. You pulled in and cut the engine, sitting for a moment in the sudden silence. Steve's hand stilled but remained on your thigh, a warm weight that anchored you to the present. 

"We're here," you said unnecessarily, turning to face him. 

In the dim glow of the streetlight, Steve's face was half in shadow, his eyes dark with promise. He leaned across the console, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, drawing you toward him. 

"Thank you," he murmured, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 

"For what?" you whispered, your heart racing at his proximity. 

"For dinner. For being you." 

His lips met yours in a kiss that was achingly gentle, a stark contrast to the desperate, hungry kisses you were accustomed to sharing with him. This was slow, deliberate, his mouth moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache. You sighed into the kiss, your hand coming up to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath your palm. 

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathing harder, though the kiss had remained chaste by your usual standards.

You held his gaze for a moment longer, then reached for your door handle. The night air felt cool against your heated skin as you stepped out, keys jingling softly in your hand. Steve followed, retrieving a small duffel bag from your trunk before falling into step beside you.

The walk to your apartment door felt different tonight—not the frantic stumbling of bodies already half-undressed, but something more measured, more intentional. Your fingers trembled slightly as you unlocked the door, hyperaware of Steve's solid presence behind you, the heat of his body close enough to feel but not quite touching. The lock clicked, and you pushed the door open, stepping into the darkened space without a word. Steve followed, his footsteps nearly silent despite his size.

The door closed with a soft thud, and you heard the metallic slide of the deadbolt as Steve secured it behind you. Neither of you reached for the light switch. The glow from the streetlamps outside filtered through your curtains, casting long shadows across the floor and illuminating Steve's face in strips of pale gold as he moved closer.

His hand found yours in the semi-darkness, fingers intertwining with a gentleness that made your chest tighten. You led him further into your apartment, both of you navigating the familiar path without needing to more light to see. 

The soft sound of paws padding across hardwood broke the silence. A plaintive "mrrrow" echoed through the darkened apartment, and Steve's entire body tensed. His hand slipped from yours as he pivoted, adopting a defensive stance, reaching instinctively for a shield that wasn't there.

"Mrrrow?" The small gray tabby padded into view, tail held high like a question mark.

"Jesus," Steve breathed, his shoulders dropping as he recognized the source of the sound. "What the—"

"Oh!" You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you at his reaction. "I'm sorry. That's Juniper. I guess I didn't mention I got a cat."

The tabby approached cautiously, her green eyes fixed on Steve with feline suspicion. She stopped a few feet away, sitting primly on her haunches to assess the stranger in her domain.

"No," Steve said, relaxing slightly, “you did not.”

"About ten days ago," you explained, crouching down to stroke Juniper's head. "I adopted her from a shelter.”

She moved forward, arching her back into your hand for more pets. 

"She's still getting settled in," you added, watching as Juniper stretches and then approaches Steve with cautious curiosity. "She's been pretty shy, but she’s starting to feel like this could be her home."

When you glanced up at Steve, you almost regretted saying those last words. But they were already out. 

Steve crouched down slowly, extending his hand toward the cat. His movements were deliberate, patient—the same careful control he showed in everything he does. Juniper sniffed his fingertips, whiskers twitching as she considered him. 

"Hey there," he murmured, his voice softer than you've ever heard it.

To your surprise, Juniper bumped her head against Steve's hand, a low purr rumbling from her small body. Steve's face transformed with a genuine smile as he gently scratched behind her ears. 

"Well, look at that," you said, unable to hide your amazement. "She must sense you're not a threat." 

Steve's eyes flicked back to meet yours, something unreadable in their depths. "Animals have good instincts."

"Better than mine sometimes," you replied softly, watching his large hand gently stroke the cat's back. Juniper arched into his touch, her purr growing louder. 

"I don't know," Steve said, his voice low. "Your instincts seem pretty good to me." 

The weight of his words hung between you. You weren’tsure if he meant your instincts about him or about life in general. Either way, a warmth spread through your chest. 

You straightened up, turning to switch on a small lamp that cast a soft glow across your living room. Steve rose, too, Juniper weaving between his legs as if they were old friends. 

"She likes you," you observed, smiling despite yourself. 

"I like her too," Steve replies, watching as Juniper padded away toward the kitchen, likely in search of her food bowl. Steve's eyes followed her for a moment before returning to you.

"She's a good addition," he said softly. "You've always seemed like you could use some company." 

You weren't sure how to take that comment—whether it was an observation or something closer to guilt. Before you could decide, Steve closed the distance between you, his hand coming up to cup your face. His thumb traced your cheekbone, his touch achingly gentle. 

"I'm sorry I didn't call first," he murmured, eyes searching yours. "Before showing up." 

You leaned into his touch, heart hammering. "You never do." 

"Maybe I should start." 

The words hung between you, loaded with implications. You swallowed, afraid to read too much into them. 

"Do you even have my number?” you teased, picking the easy path instead of the more complicated conversation. 

Steve's lips quirked in a half-smile. "I have ways of reaching you if I needed to." 

Of course he did. You shouldn't be surprised. The man had somehow gotten into your locked car today without leaving a trace. 

"Right," you whispered, still cradled in his palm. "Super spy stuff." 

His thumb traced your bottom lip. "Not exactly spy stuff. Just..." he hesitated, "I've always made sure I could find you if I needed to." 

The admission sent a shiver down your spine. How many times had he checked on you without you knowing? Had he watched over you from a distance? The thought should have been unsettling, but instead, it filled you with an unexpected warmth. 

"And tonight you needed to," you said softly. 

Steve's eyes darkened. "Tonight I wanted to." 

The distinction wasn't lost on you. Need versus want. 

Your heart stuttered at his words. Need versus want. It echoed what he'd said earlier – that he'd come to town specifically to see you. Not because he needed shelter or release, but because he wanted your company. The distinction felt monumental. 

"And what exactly do you want tonight, Steve?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

His eyes searched yours, something vulnerable flickering across his features. "This," he said simply, before leaning in to capture your lips with his. 

The kiss was different from the countless others you'd shared. There was hunger there, yes – there was always hunger with Steve – but it was tempered with something more deliberate. His hand cradled your face as if you were precious, his lips moving against yours with exquisite patience.

You melted into him, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Steve deepened the kiss gradually, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before you parted them with a soft sigh. He tasted like peaches and warmth, familiar yet somehow new in this slower, gentler approach.

Your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, dislodging his cap. It fell to the floor unnoticed as Steve's arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer. The solid wall of his chest pressed against yours, his heartbeat strong and steady beneath your palms. 

When you finally broke apart for air, Steve rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. 

"I've missed you," he confessed, the words so quiet you almost didn't catch them. 

He’d just missed you. 

The admission sent a flutter through your chest. "I missed you, too," you admit. 

Steve's hands traced slow patterns up and down your back, as if relearning the shape of you. There was no urgency in his touch, nothing like the desperate need that usually drove his hands across your skin. He was taking his time, savoring the moment, and you found yourself doing the same.

"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I didn't say that earlier." 

The compliment warmed you from within. "Thank you. You look pretty good yourself." You managed a smile, despite the way your heart was hammering against your ribs. 

Steve chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Even with this?" He gestured to his beard, which had grown fuller since you'd last seen him. 

"Especially with that," you admitted, reaching up to run your fingers through it. The coarse hair tickled your palm as you traced the line of his jaw. "I've always liked it." 

His eyes darkened at your touch, his pupils dilating with desire. "I remember," he murmured, his voice dropping lower. "You seemed to enjoy it between your thighs."

Heat bloomed across your skin at the memory—his beard scraping deliciously against your sensitive flesh as he devoured you. You bit your lip, unable to deny it.

"I did," you admitted. "I do."

Steve's hands tightened slightly at your waist, his thumbs tracing circles against your hips.

"Bedroom?" he suggested, his voice rough with desire. 

You nodded, suddenly unable to find your voice. Steve laced his fingers with yours, following as you led him down the familiar hallway. The soft glow from the living room lamp barely reached here, casting long shadows across the walls. 

Your bedroom was exactly as you'd left it that morning—bed hastily made, a book on your nightstand, a discarded sweater draped over the chair in the corner. The ordinary domesticity of it struck you anew, seeing it through Steve's eyes. 

He closed the door behind you, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. 

"I've been thinking about you," he admitted quietly. "More than I should."

Your breath caught. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. "Yeah.”

There was no denying something was different about him tonight—a softness around his edges that made your chest ache.

"What specifically were you thinking about?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper in the dim room. 

Steve's eyes held yours, his expression open in a way you'd rarely seen before. "Everything. The way you laugh. The sound of your voice when you're sleepy. How you looked curled up reading that book the last time I was here." 

Your heart hammered against your ribs as he stepped closer. 

His thumb traced your bottom lip, sending shivers down your spine. "I thought about this mouth." His gaze dropped to your lips. "And how it tastes." 

Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened. His hands cradled your face as his tongue slipped past your lips, tasting you thoroughly. You melted against him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to his solid presence.

"Steve," you breathed when you finally broke apart, his name a reverent whisper in the darkened room. 

He studied your face in the dim light, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones with such tenderness it made your chest feel raw inside. This wasn't the Steve who pinned you against walls or bent you over furniture. This was someone else entirely—someone vulnerable, almost hesitant. 

"I want to take my time with you tonight," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Is that okay?" 

The question itself was new. Steve rarely asked—he took, and you gave willingly. But this deliberate request for permission made something squirm in your stomach.

"Yes," you whispered, throat suddenly tight. 

His hands moved to your waist, fingers splaying across your hips as he guided you backward until your legs met the edge of the bed. With gentle pressure, he urged you to sit. Steve lowered himself to his knees before you, his broad shoulders between your thighs as he gazed up at you with an intensity that stole your breath. 

Slowly, reverently, he reached for the buttons of your blouse, undoing them one by one. The brush of his fingers against your skin sent shivers racing through you. There was something almost worshipful in his methodical movements, so different from the frantic disrobing you were accustomed to with him. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmured as he parted the fabric, exposing your bra. His hands slid beneath the blouse, easing it off your shoulders until it slipped down your arms and onto the bed behind you. His eyes roved over your exposed skin, drinking you in like a man dying of thirst.

His fingers traced the lace edge of your bra, barely touching your skin. The featherlight contact made you shiver, goosebumps rising on your flesh. Steve leaned forward, pressing his lips to the curve of your shoulder, then trailing kisses along your collarbone. 

"I've never taken the time to properly appreciate you," he murmured against your skin. "All these months, and I've been too hungry, too desperate." 

You swallowed hard, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. "I didn't mind," you whispered. 

Steve looked up, his blue eyes serious in the dim light. "I know. But you deserve more." 

The weight of his words hung between you as his hands moved to the clasp of your bra. With practiced ease, he released it, letting the straps slide down your arms. The garment fell away, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

"Perfect," he breathed, cupping them gently in his large hands. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, drawing them into tight peaks. The touch was light, exploratory, as if he was discovering your body for the first time. 

You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. Steve leaned forward, replacing one hand with his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue circling your nipple sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you. His beard scratched deliciously against your sensitive skin as he lavished attention on first one breast, then the other. 

"Steve," you gasped, your fingers threading through his hair. 

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your body. His hands slid down to your waist, fingers tracing the waistband of your pants.

"Lift your hips," he murmured against your skin, and you complied without hesitation. 

Steve worked your pants down your legs with the same deliberate patience he'd shown with your blouse. His fingers trailed fire in their wake, caressing the newly exposed skin of your thick thighs. When the fabric pooled at your ankles, you kicked it away, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

His eyes darkened as they raked over you, taking in every inch of exposed flesh. Any other partners you’d been with before, there’d always been hesitancy lingering beneath the surface over being exposed and naked and knowing your body wasn’t the standard of conventional beauty, but it had never been a question with him, despite his god-like physique. His eyes had always hungered for you exactly as you were. 

His hands returned to your thighs, thumbs tracing idle patterns that made your breath hitch. Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your knee, then another slightly higher. The path of his lips moved steadily upward, each kiss lingering longer than the last.

When he reached the crease of your thigh, Steve paused, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. You shivered in anticipation, your fingers still tangled in his hair. His beard tickled your inner thigh as he nuzzled against you, inhaling deeply. 

"I've missed your scent," he murmured, placing an open-mouthed kiss on the fabric of your underwear. The heat of his breath penetrated the thin material, making you squirm beneath him. "The way you smell when you want me." 

Your thighs trembled as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties. With agonizing slowness, he drew them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. The garment joined the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you completely bare before him. 

Steve sat back on his heels, simply looking at you. The hunger in his gaze was tempered with something else—a reverence that made your heart race. You fought the urge to cover yourself, to hide from the intensity of his stare.

"I want to taste you," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your core. "I want to make you fall apart with my mouth." 

Your breath caught at his words. "Yes," you whispered, unable to deny him anything. 

Steve's large hands spread your thighs wider, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze. His thumbs traced the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, moving ever closer to where you needed him most but never quite reaching. The teasing touches had you squirming, desperate for more contact. 

"Patience," he murmured, a small smile playing at his lips as he watched your reactions. 

"Easy for you to say," you breathed, earning a low laugh.

His eyes held yours for a moment, dark with desire but also something deeper, more tender. Then he lowered his head, and the first brush of his tongue against your core made you gasp. The contact was feather-light, teasing, as he explored you with deliberate patience. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he savored you. 

"God, you taste even better than I remembered," he murmured against your flesh, the vibration of his voice sending shivers through you. 

Unlike the desperate hunger of previous encounters, Steve took his time, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and delicate flicks against your sensitive bundle of nerves. The scrape of his beard against your inner thighs created a delicious friction that heightened every sensation. Your head fell back, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he found a particularly sensitive spot. 

His fingers joined his mouth, one sliding inside you with careful precision while his tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit. The dual sensations had you arching off the bed, one hand gripping the sheets while the other remained tangled in his hair.

"Steve," you gasped, your hips rolling against his face as pleasure built within you. "Oh god, Steve!"

He hummed against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your core. His finger curled inside you, finding that perfect spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. A second finger joined the first, stretching you deliciously as his tongue worked magic against your swollen clit. 

Unlike his usual approach—fast and intense, designed to make you come quickly and repeatedly—tonight Steve seemed determined to draw out your pleasure. Each time you approached the edge, he would ease back, slowing his movements until the desperate need receded slightly before building you up again. It was exquisite torture, leaving you trembling and pleading.

"Please," you finally begged, your voice breaking. "Steve, please..." 

He looked up at you then, his mouth glistening with your arousal, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you need," he commanded softly. 

"I need to come," you whispered. "Please let me come." 

Something shifted in his expression—a softening, a surrender. He nodded once, then lowered his head again. This time, his assault was relentless, his fingers pumping steadily inside you while his tongue circled your clit with precise, firm strokes. The pleasure built rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter until you were teetering on the precipice. 

When his lips closed around your sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked gently, the dam broke. 

Your body arched off the bed as the orgasm crashed over you in powerful waves. Steve's fingers continued their movements inside you, drawing out your pleasure as you cried out his name. The intensity of it stole your breath, left you trembling and gasping as aftershocks rippled through your body. 

Only when the last tremors subsided did Steve slowly withdraw his fingers. He pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh, then another slightly higher, working his way back up your body with reverent attention. Each touch of his lips against your skin felt like a benediction, worshipful and tender in a way that made your chest ache. 

When he reached your face, he captured your lips in a kiss that tasted of you. His tongue slipped into your mouth, sharing your essence as his body covered yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh through his jeans, evidence of his own desire. 

"You're still dressed," you murmured against his lips, your fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. 

Steve smiled, the expression transforming his face in the dim light. "I was focused on more important things." 

Your hands slid beneath his shirt, palms flat against the warm skin of his abdomen. You felt his muscles contract at your touch, a small shiver running through him. "My turn," you whispered. 

Steve sat back, allowing you to push his shirt up. He helped you remove it, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. The sight of his bare torso never failed to take your breath away—the perfect sculpture of muscle, the scars that told stories you'd never fully know. 

Your fingers traced a new mark on his ribs, a thin line that hadn't been there the last time. "What happened here?" 

Steve captured your hand, bringing it to his lips. "Just a scratch," he said dismissively. "Nothing for you to worry about."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his face. "But I do worry about you, Steve," you said softly. "I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it. Every time you leave, I wonder if you're safe, if you're hurt somewhere..." 

Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. His thumb traced circles on your palm as he considered your words. 

"You worry about me?" he asked, his voice low and rough. 

You nodded, feeling suddenly vulnerable. "Of course I do. How could I not?" 

Steve leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. "I'm careful," he promised. "I have good people watching my back." 

"I know," you whispered. "But that doesn't stop me from worrying." 

He kissed you again, deeper this time, as if trying to pour all his unspoken reassurances into the connection between you. Your hands slid down his chest to the waistband of his jeans, fingers working at the button and zipper. Steve helped, lifting his hips as you pushed the denim down his powerful thighs. 

When he was finally as naked as you, Steve moved to cover your body with his. The delicious weight of him pressed you into the mattress, his skin hot against yours. He bracketed your face with his forearms, looking down at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. 

His hardness pressed against your entrance, hot and insistent. You reached between your bodies to guide him, both of you gasping as he slowly pushed inside. The stretch and fullness of him was familiar yet somehow new, as if your bodies were rediscovering each other. 

"God, you always feel amazing," Steve murmured, his voice strained as he buried himself to the hilt. He remained still for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with your own.

When he began to move, it was with deliberate, measured strokes, so unlike the frantic pace he usually set. Each thrust was deep and purposeful, his eyes never leaving yours. The intimacy of it was almost unbearable—this wasn't just sex, this was something else entirely. 

Your hands roamed his back, feeling the powerful muscles flex and release with each movement. His skin was hot beneath your palms, slick with sweat as he continued his languid pace. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper with each thrust.

"Steve," you whispered, overwhelmed by the intensity between you. This felt different—raw and exposed in a way that transcended physical nakedness. 

His rhythm faltered slightly at the sound of his name on your lips. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that had seen too much, locked on yours with such vulnerability it made your chest ache. 

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm right here." 

The tenderness in his words broke something open inside you. You arched against him, meeting each thrust with a desperate need to be closer, to consume and be consumed by him. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding him to you as if he might disappear at any moment. 

"Don't stop," you pleaded. 

Steve's thrusts deepened, his powerful body trembling above yours. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear—raw, unguarded, nothing like the controlled man you'd come to know. His rhythm faltered, becoming more erratic as his breathing grew ragged. 

"I can't—" he choked out, his voice breaking on the words. 

A wave of emotion crashed over you both, something profound and terrifying sweeping through the room. Steve buried his face in the crook of your neck, his movements growing desperate, almost frantic. His arms tightened around you, holding you as if you were his only anchor in a storm. 

The tension built in your core, pleasure spiraling tighter with each thrust. You were climbing toward that peak together, bodies moving in perfect synchronization.

The dampness you felt against your skin surprised you—not sweat, but something else. His shoulders shook slightly as he continued to move inside you, his arms tightening around you with desperate need.

You realized with a jolt that they were tears—Steve Rogers was crying as he made love to you.

The realization hit you like a physical blow. This man who carried the weight of the world, who had survived impossible things, was breaking apart in your arms. The vulnerability of it was overwhelming, terrifying in its intensity.

"Steve," you whispered, your voice catching as the realization fully hit you. His tears were warm against your skin, his body still moving within yours, but something had fundamentally shifted. The intensity between you had transformed into something raw and vulnerable that neither of you had prepared for. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, cradling his head as he continued to tremble against you. The pleasure was still building, your bodies still chasing release, but the emotional undercurrent had become a tidal wave threatening to drown you both. 

"I need to stop," you said softly, your hands moving to his shoulders. "Steve, wait—please." 

He stilled immediately, his body tense above yours. "Did I hurt you?" Concern flooded his features, momentarily overshadowing his own emotion. 

"No," you assured him, thumbs brushing away his tears. 

The raw vulnerability in his eyes shattered something inside you. "But this is... this feels like more than—"

He rolled off you, the sudden loss of his warmth leaving you cold despite the summer heat. You pulled the sheet up over your body, an instinctive shield against the intensity of the moment. 

Steve sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His broad shoulders rose and fell with deep, uneven breaths. You watched him, uncertain what to do or say. This was uncharted territory between you.

"Steve," you whispered, reaching out to touch his back. The muscles beneath your fingers were taut, trembling slightly. "Talk to me. Please." 

He shook his head, still not looking at you. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough. "I didn't mean for that to happen." 

You moved closer, letting the sheet fall away as you pressed yourself against his back, arms encircling his waist. You rested your cheek between his shoulder blades, feeling his heartbeat through his skin. 

"Don't apologize," you murmured. "Not for feeling something." 

Steve's hand came up to cover yours where it rested on his stomach. 

"This was a mistake," he said finally.

The words hit you like a physical blow. "What do you mean?" You tried to pull away, but he held your arm firmly against him. 

"Not you," he clarified quickly, turning his face to face you. His expression was both earnest and serious. “Being so physically intimate when I was only giving you half of the emotional reality of what I’ve realized I feel for you.” 

"What do you mean?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest. 

Steve turned fully towards you, his blue eyes filled with an intensity that stole your breath. He reached out, his large hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness it made your throat tight. 

"I mean that I've been lying to myself," he said, his voice low and rough. "About what this is between us. What you are to me." 

You swallowed hard, afraid to hope, afraid to interpret his words the way your heart desperately wanted to. "And what am I to you, Steve?" 

He looked down for a moment, gathering himself, then met your gaze again with newfound resolve. "Everything," he whispered. "You've become everything." 

The word hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. Your breath caught in your throat as Steve continued, the words seeming to pour from him now that he’d started. 

"I kept pretending this was just physical. That I could compartmentalize you into this separate part of my life that didn't affect everything else."

He paused, swallowing hard, his eyes never leaving yours. "But the truth is, you've become... essential to me. Not just your body, but you. The way you laugh. The way you care about things. Your kindness when I was at my lowest."

Your heart hammered against your ribs as Steve continued, each word carefully chosen.

"I think about you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I'm out there. I think about coming back to you constantly." 

The admission hit you like a physical blow, stealing the air from your lungs. You reached up to touch his face, fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw, the softness of his beard beneath your fingertips.

"I think about you too," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "All the time." 

Steve's eyes closed briefly at your words, as if they caused him physical pain. When he opened them again, they were filled with a mixture of longing and regret. 

"I have no right to ask anything of you," he said, his hand covering yours where it rested against his face. "My life is dangerous, unstable. I can't offer you anything close to normal." 

"I've never asked for normal," you reminded him gently. "I've never expected promises from you, Steve." 

"But you deserve them," he insisted, his brow furrowing. "You deserve someone who can be there every day, not just whenever I can slip away." 

You shifted closer, the sheet falling away completely as you shifted to sit next to him. "You don't get to decide what I want or what's enough for me."

Steve's expression grew serious. "But I should have been honest—with myself and with you—about what was happening between us."

You held his gaze, gathering your courage. "And what exactly is happening between us, Steve?" 

He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort. "I'm falling in love with you," he said, the words quiet but clear. "I think I have been for a long time." 

The admission hung in the air between you, transforming the space around you. Your heart stuttered, then raced ahead as if trying to catch up to the moment. 

"Steve," you breathed, suddenly at a loss for words.

He shook his head. "You don't have to say anything. I know this complicates everything." 

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. "What if I want complications?" 

His brow furrowed, eyes searching yours. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean," you said, squeezing his hand, "that I'm falling in love with you too." The words escaped your lips easily, as if they'd been waiting there all along. "Maybe I've been falling since that first weekend, or maybe it happened gradually over all these stolen moments. But it's true."

Steve's expression shifted, hope and disbelief warring across his features. His thumb traced circles on the back of your hand as he processed your words.

"You can't mean that," he said finally, his voice rough. "You don't know what you're signing up for."

You moved closer, bringing your free hand up to cup his face. "I know exactly what I'm signing up for. Uncertainty. Worry. Long absences and unexpected appearances. I've been living it for almost a year now."

"And that's enough for you?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. "Stolen moments and no guarantees?"

"Too late," you replied with a small smile. "It's already happened." 

Steve stood abruptly, pacing the small space beside your bed, his naked form magnificent even in his agitation. His hands raked through his hair as he moved, tension radiating from every line of his body. 

"I can't ask that of you," he said, his voice strained. "It's not fair." 

You watched him pace, the moonlight casting his powerful body in silver and shadow. Despite the heaviness of the moment, you couldn't help admiring him—the fluid grace with which he moved, the controlled strength in every gesture. 

"Life isn't fair, Steve," you said softly. "If it were, we would have met at a coffee shop. You'd be an architect or a history teacher. We'd date normally, move in together after a year, get a dog." You shrugged. "But that's not our story." 

He stopped pacing, turning to face you fully. The vulnerability in his expression made your heart ache. 

"Our story is complicated and messy," you continued. "But it's ours. And I wouldn't trade it." 

Steve sat beside you again, the mattress dipping with his weight. “So we figure out the next chapter together?” 

"Together," you confirmed, the word carrying a weight it never had before. You reached for his hand again, twining your fingers with his. "Whatever that looks like."

Steve's thumb traced slow circles on your palm, his eyes fixed on your joined hands. "It won't be easy," he warned, though his voice had lost its edge of desperation. "There will be long stretches when I can't contact you, when you won't know where I am or if I'm safe." 

"I already live with that," you reminded him gently. "The only difference now is that we're being honest about what this is." 

His eyes met yours, searching. "And what is this, exactly?" 

You smiled, squeezing his hand. "Love. Complicated, inconvenient, impossible love." 

The word hung between you, no longer frightening but like a beacon illuminating the path forward. Steve's eyes searched yours, as if looking for any hint of doubt or reservation. Finding none, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. The gesture was tender, almost reverent.

“A cat for now, a dog later.”

He laughed softly, the sound rich with contentment. Steve drew you closer, his strong arms encircling you as if you might disappear. You settled against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. His lips pressed against your hair, his breath warm against your scalp.

"You know, when I first saw you at that fair last summer, I never imagined we'd end up here," he murmured.

You smiled against his skin. "What did you imagine?"

"Honestly?" His chest rumbled with a soft chuckle. "Just one night. Something to help me forget everything else for a while."

"And now?" you prompted, tilting your head to look up at him.

His expression softened, those blue eyes warming as they met yours. "Now I can't imagine not coming back to you."

The weight of his words settled warmly inside you, infusing your veins with a golden hope you'd never dared to feel. You reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with gentle fingers, still marveling that this was real.

"So we do this," you said softly. "We figure it out as we go." 

Steve nodded, turning to press a kiss to your palm. "Day by day." 

"Night by night," you added with a small smile. 

He laughed, the sound lighter than you'd ever heard from him before. "Hour by hour, sometimes." 

You shifted, moving to straddle his lap, your naked bodies pressing together once more. Steve's hands settled on your hips, steadying you as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

"Speaking of hours," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "how many do we have right now?" 

His eyes darkened, desire flaring once more as his grip on you waist tightened. “At least until morning, but it seemed like possibly a day or two.”

You smiled, pressing another kiss to his lips, this one lingering. "I’ll take it."

Steve's hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as he captured your lips in a deeper kiss. There was still hunger there, but it was tempered with something more profound now that the truth lay exposed between you. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting you thoroughly as his hands roamed your skin. 

You rolled your hips against him, feeling him hard and ready beneath you. The friction drew a groan from Steve's throat, his fingers digging into your flesh.

"We didn't finish what we started," you murmured against his lips. 

"No," he agreed, his voice rough with renewed desire. "We didn't." 

“But I’m ready for all of it now.”

“We both are,” he affirmed. With effortless strength, Steve lifted you, turning to lay you back against the pillows. He moved over you, his powerful body caging yours as you spread your legs for him. 

His eyes held yours as he entered you again, the connection between you transformed by your shared confessions. This wasn't just physical anymore—this was communion, an acknowledgment of everything unspoken that had been building between you for nearly a year. 

"I love you," he whispered against your lips as he began to move inside you. The words, so new between you, sent shivers across your skin. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. "I love you, too," you breathed, the truth of it expanding in your chest like a sunrise.

Steve's movements were deliberate, each thrust slow and purposeful as if he was memorizing the feel of you. His hands cradled your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks with reverent tenderness. The intensity in his gaze was almost unbearable—all his walls down, his soul bare before you. 

The pleasure built slowly between you, each movement deliberate and purposeful. When your release finally came, it washed over you in gentle waves rather than the crashing tsunami of your usual encounters. Steve's forehead pressed against yours as you breathed each other's names, bodies trembling in unison.

Afterward, he gathered you against him, your head resting on his chest as his fingers traced idle patterns on your bare shoulder. The comfortable silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken promises amidst the newfound understanding.

"I should have told you sooner," Steve murmured, his voice rumbling beneath your ear.

You smiled against his skin. "We weren't ready before."

He considered this, his fingers still tracing patterns on your skin. "Maybe you're right," he finally said. "Maybe we needed the time to understand what this was becoming."

You propped yourself up on an elbow to look at him, taking in the relaxed lines of his face, so different from the guarded expressions you were used to seeing. "We both needed to convince ourselves that the other was worth letting our walls down. But we did. No regrets for how long it took," you said softly.

"No regrets," he echoed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

The gentle sound of paws padding across the floor drew your attention. Juniper leapt gracefully onto the bed, circling and surveying the scene before picking a spot at the head of the bed near Steve’s shoulder. She kneaded the blanket a few times, then curled into a contented ball, her purr filling the quiet room. 

“Hey, Junie,” you cooed, reaching out to scratch her neck.

Steve chuckled. "I think I've been approved."

"She's a good judge of character," you murmured. 

"She's still settling in," you said, watching as Juniper's eyes drifted closed, her purr growing louder. "It took her a few days to even come out from under the bed for more than a few minutes at a time when I first brought her home." 

Steve reached over to stroke her fur, his large hand gentle against her small form. "Sometimes it takes a while to trust that you're really safe somewhere. That it's okay to make yourself at home." 

The parallel wasn't lost on you. You smiled, settling back against his chest. "Some strays need more time than others." 

His arm tightened around you, and you felt his lips press against the top of your head. "I'm not sure I deserve either of you." 

"Too bad," you murmured sleepily. "You've got us both now." 

This moment—Steve in your bed, casually petting your cat, his body relaxed in a way you'd never seen before—felt precious, even fragile in its normalcy.

"Are you hungry?" you asked. "We could raid the kitchen."

Steve's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "I could eat."

Of course he could. The super soldier metabolism was no joke. You'd seen him put away enough food for three people without breaking a sweat.

You started to shift, but Steve’s arm banded more tightly around your back, refusing to let you go. 

You arched a brow at him.

“But I want a few more minutes of just this.”

"Just this is nice," you agreed, settling back against him.

The weight of his arm around you felt wonderful. Just pure belonging and contentment. 

"When did you know?" you asked after a comfortable silence. 

Steve's chest rose and fell with a deep breath. "That I loved you?" 

You nodded against him. “Because it wasn’t just tonight.”

"No, it wasn’t just tonight,” he said without hesitation. "April. When you were sick. I was halfway across the world when I heard through my contacts that you hadn't been to work for three days."

You pulled back slightly to look at him. "You were monitoring my work attendance?" 

His expression turned sheepish. "Not specifically. I just have someone who keeps tabs on you occasionally. Makes sure you're safe.”

"So you found out I was sick and...?" you prompted, curious about what had driven him to appear in your apartment that day. 

Steve's fingers traced patterns on your shoulder. "I was worried. I made some calls, found out you'd filled a prescription for antibiotics but weren't improving. I was in Eastern Europe at the time, but I had to come here."

Your heart swelled at the thought of him crossing continents just because you had a bad cold. "That's quite the house call, Rogers." 

His lips quirked into a half-smile. "When I got here and saw you—feverish, barely able to stand—something fundamentally shifted. I realized I couldn't pretend anymore that what I felt was just physical."

"So it was me at my absolute worst that made you fall in love?" you teased, pressing a kiss to his chest. 

"It was seeing you vulnerable," Steve corrected softly. "Seeing there was a need I could tend to that had nothing to do with sex or pleasure. And realizing how desperately I wanted to be there for you, not just when it was convenient or satisfying." 

His fingers traced lazy patterns along your spine as he continued, "When I held you in the shower, when I helped you into clean clothes, I felt more connected to you than I had during any of our previous encounters."

You nestled closer against him, absorbing his warmth. "For me it was when you left after that weekend," you admitted. "I had told myself it was just amazing sex with Captain America last summer—who wouldn't be hung up on that? But then you came back in September, and again after that..." You traced patterns on his chest. "Each time you left, the imprint was deeper."

"Imprints," Steve echoed, his voice a low rumble beneath your ear. "That's a good way to put it."

You smiled against his skin, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

"I think we should eat now," you said softly, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace. "If we don't, you'll be raiding my fridge at 3am again."

Steve laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "That was one time." 

"One very memorable time," you countered, sitting up and reaching for his discarded t-shirt on the floor. You pulled it over your head, the fabric still warm from his body and smelling distinctly of him. "I thought someone had broken in." 

"Technically, someone had," he admitted with a playful smirk. 

You rolled your eyes, sliding off the bed. "Come on, super soldier. Let's find you some food." 

Steve watched you for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you wearing his shirt, before he stood and pulled on his boxer briefs. You pulled him down for one more kiss, reveling in the new normal - with no idea of what that would be, but the surety of it being something was the feeling you’d heard about, read in books, watched a thousand times on big and small screens, and finally was yours. 

Complicated, uncharted, but real and yours.

MORE SOON read more Exiled Nomad Series

Nearly every part of their story is my favorite, but this might be my favorite favorite.

Now, again, for those keeping track of the chronological timeline, we're nearing the end of May 2018. I'm going off this theoretical idea that Avengers Infinity War happened "sometime between April 19th and June 3rd, 2018."

...

so.

yeah.

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