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buck-star · 29 days ago

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This was so precious and sweet. Bucky’s such a sweetheart and I absolutely adore them both, their dynamics and your collection of them!

The feelings, the sweetness. Bucky knowing exactly that this girl is his. The way he gave her the nickname! This… is… PERFECT!

Bucky was getting restless—reluctantly so.

I’m sorry for our precious baby. He just needs us to hold him tight and comfy while he can tell us all about his thoughts. Maybe tulip would hold him, letting him tell her all the stories about his childhood and all. And just comfort him!

There were dozens of problems at the bar he needed to solve, rival gangs were stirring up trouble in neighboring towns so his people depended on him now more than ever, and his Ma and Becca relied on him as the sole provider.

Aww, our sweetheart. We definitely need to comfort him. Let’s order the others to do the word for one day on their own, because TULIPS MAN needs some cuddles and being wrapped in a blanket with his comfort food and lots of kisses and love!

I love how everyone is involved in this universe! Not just our beloved Bucky and his closest friends, but also Fury, Yori, and Tony! They are all there, like it’s the perfect place! And it is!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Bucky was drunk before he saw us! Uh huh! This is the best way to fall in love!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

He’s left to find out more about you in the here and now.

MEL! It’s not oke! Stop that! You can’t make me fall in love even hard with every damn time I read something you wrote! Oke? But congrats I just fell harder for him!😩😩

“‘m already carrying ‘em, dollface. Jus’ tell me where to put ‘em.”

Gimme that man! That pretty accent and his gentleness! This man is perfect and you write him just so perfectly! Urgh, I’m gonna melt while drooling over him!

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat the moment his eyes met yours.

I introduce you all to SHY!BIKER!Bucky, meeting the love of his life! TULIP! His precious girl, named after a flower he loves, because she’s just so precious and beautiful in his eyes.❤️❤️

“For a second there I thought those things would crush you.”

Cheekkyyyy! But I love him for that! Especially because he helps further after and carries it all for her. Mhm, so perfect. Our man! Our man!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

“Tulip.”

“Pretty thing like you—Tulip suits ya.”

Don’t say more! It’s perfect! This big biker giving his girl a sweet nickname like that? If you’re looking for me you will find me in front of him and drooling while I stare into his pretty blue eyes and kiss him senseless!

He’s so cute when he gets curious about what she has there. And this is so precious. The way they meet is so perfect and I just can’t help but 🎶FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU!🎶

No one’s ever given Bucky butterflies this quickly–or maybe ever like this in his life.

It’s because he’s made for his tulip. He’s made for us. His girl belongs to him just as much as Bucky belongs to her, that’s why he never felt so comfortable and loved around someone before.

Awww, how he even takes his time to talk to her. Getting to know one another. And he’s so sweet. So precious. WHERE DO WE GET THIS PRECIOUS BABY! Don’t mind me giggling and kicking my feet because of him.🤭🤭

“Let’s make a deal. I get to keep callin’ ya Tulip and you can call me for help anytime ya need it,”

He could call his girl tulip anytime he wants to! Everytime! Because it comes out of Bucky’s pretty mouth, deep from his heart!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

“You too, Bucky. Drive safe!”

How to say I love you without saying I love you? Exactly like that. “Drive safe!” SHE GOT IT PERFECTLY!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Bucky walked back to his Harley smiling like a teenager with a crush.

Whether he recognized it or not that day, it was all because of you.

Our man is deeply in love with his tulip already! Ahhhh, so precious! I can’t get other words out except: PRECIOUS! PERFECT! SWEET! SOOOOO LOVEING AND ADORABLE!

That was you.

You were the morning air, the sunlight, and the cool breeze.

He didn’t know it yet, but in due time he would.

In due time, you would be his Tulip.

THIS! It’s the perfect description of love! And it doesn’t have to wait any longer to be Bucky’s tulip. Because she is his girl, his tulip already! AHHHH I’m gonna cry because of the sweetness, then I will melt and cry again, until I feel steady with my emotions again.

YES, THIS WAS PERFECT! Beloved Biker!Bucky and his precious tulip. He’s so soft and lovely, taking good care of what he loves the most, or will love, his precious girl. I can only repeat myself, this is adorable! Your writing is perfect and the way you write Bucky, their dynamics, it all! It’s so mhmmmmmm. It makes me fall in love with him over and over again.🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ Thank you for writing such amazing and lovely, perfect and adorable things for us to read! You’re adorable and appreciated!❤️❤️

Tulip

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Florist!Reader

Summary: On a night when the past weighs heavy on Bucky, fate brings him to you.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning(s): established nickname -> tulip / fluff / mentions of grief

a/n: After seeing how much people loved Biker Bucky in Usual I decided to share more of their story with you all 💕 This is going to be a bigger collection of fics, so I will have an official taglist for it and there's more info on that here. That taglist in this fic is not related to the tags on here. The tags on here were for just for fun!! Hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, & reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

next in their story ♡ // the whole collection ♡

It was one of those nights where Bucky was irritated without reason. His face was etched into an intimidating scowl as he looked at nothing in particular in his bar. The laughter was too loud, the clinking of glasses irked his eardrums like nails on a chalkboard, and his heart felt heavy. Almost as if one of the men in his bar were pressing down on it with their heavy boot.

Bucky was getting tired of this. Of having these moments where his body thrummed with discomfort and his fingers found the familiar grooves in the wooden table he sat at—etching the oak with erratic lines until his nails were chipped and uneven. He could already hear the shit Sam would say as soon as he saw the added marks.

Bucky was getting restless—reluctantly so.

“Hey, Buck, one of the—”

“‘m goin’ out for a ride.”

As soon as Steve came over to give Bucky an update on the business, Bucky stood up from the table and dismissed himself. Steve held back a sigh, his lips forming a tight line as his best friend blew him off. He didn’t take it personally, at least not tonight. More than anything Steve was worried for Bucky. It was never easy seeing him fall into this state once a year.

Bucky always got like this around the anniversary of his father’s death.

Steve and the rest of the crew exchanged wary glances as Bucky pushed through the bar in a rush. His hands at his sides flexed as he sought out the comfort of his bike. He took out his leather gloves from his jacket—dark and weathered from years of wear—and slipped them on before mounting his Harley. It thundered to life underneath him, the deep rumble easing the tension in his shoulders.

He pulled out of his parking space, the blacked-out engine chrome gleaming under the streetlights. Bucky had no set destination, just a familiar path he had taken hundreds of times while on patrol. One that transgressed the entirety of the small town he lived in.

The small town he and his gang protected.

Bucky twisted the throttle, the Harley's roar echoing through the quiet streets as if warning the town of his presence. He drove down the roads at a steady speed, letting the breeze brush through his hair like a soothing balm. Hoping the night and his Harley would take away the hollow ache in his chest.

He couldn’t keep thinking of his dad. Not right now. There was too much going on in his life.

Bucky wouldn’t allow himself to be swept by the bittersweet memories. There were dozens of problems at the bar he needed to solve, rival gangs were stirring up trouble in neighboring towns so his people depended on him now more than ever, and his Ma and Becca relied on him as the sole provider.

Giving himself a moment to grieve—to feel—was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

After a full loop around the town, Bucky decided to survey the downtown area once again. It was nearing ten at night and the majority of the businesses were closed, and yet he was still adamant about getting a good last look before he returned to the bar.

He witnessed the usual: Yori and his son closing up their family-owned restaurant for the night, Mr. and Mrs. Fury bickering on their walk home, the savory aroma of Stark’s Pizzeria wafting through the air as he drove by, and a stack of wooden crates dancing in mid-air.

Hold up.

Wait a minute.

What?

Bucky had to do a double and then a triple take to make sure his eyes weren’t tricking him. He hadn’t had an ounce of alcohol tonight, and yet he began to gaslight himself into thinking maybe he had.

That was until you appeared from behind the wooden crates. Huffing out in annoyance and setting them down on the bed of an old pickup truck. Glaring at them as if the fury behind your eyes would suddenly make them ten pounds lighter.

Bucky stared at you from afar perplexed and yet with a ghost of a smile on his face. He had never seen you in town before, meaning you must have moved here not too long ago. A faint memory of Sam telling him a new shop owner was coming into town crosses his mind, but Bucky couldn’t remember all the details.

With a multitude of other things on his mind, he hadn’t been paying attention at the time.

The Harley’s rumble softens until it comes to a still as Bucky parks it on the street opposite you. He sits on it for a moment watching you, searching his brain for the finer details of what Sam had mentioned, but nothing comes to him. He’s left to find out more about you in the here and now.

Bucky suddenly catches the determined expression on your face as you go to pick up three of the wooden crates again. His eyes widen and before he even registers what he’s doing he swings off his bike and jogs over to you.

“Here let me help,” Bucky doesn’t ask or wait for a response as he easily takes the crates from your arms, lifting them as if they weighed nothing. You watch him in startled awe, wondering where this incredibly strong stranger had come from. Hand on your heart to calm yourself down from the sudden intrusion on your solitude.

“Oh! Um…you really don’t have to—”

“‘m already carrying ‘em, dollface. Jus’ tell me where to put ‘em.”

Bucky’s voice was calm and collected, but on the inside he wanted to ask you what the hell were in these crates. He’s used to carrying heavy boxes of supplies for his bar, but even then he’d use a hand truck to haul everything in. To think you were trying to carry all of this by yourself…he didn’t know whether to be impressed by your determination or laugh at your stubbornness.

The wooden crates obstructed your view of each other—and he’d never admit it—but they covered enough of his eye sight to where he had to tilt his head to watch his step.

“Here, let me guide you,” you placed a tentative hand on his arm, trying to ignore the way his bicep flexed under it. There was fragile cargo in those crates and you needed to make sure they got into your shop safe and sound. Bucky showed no signs of rejecting your guidance.

You carefully led him inside, sliding away any obstacles from his path with your feet. You were still adding the last touches to the decor so there were tools, supplies, and different sized cardboard boxes scattered across the floor. You were able to direct him to a spot in front of the main counter where he could put the crates down—the one area clear of anything.

He placed them down gently before turning to face you. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat the moment his eyes met yours. Your pretty irises glimmered with sincere appreciation coupled with a soft smile that caused an unfamiliar warmth to spread through his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him like that. His brain has gone fuzzy, words evading him. Almost like a part of him that had been dormant for far too long was yearning for him to not break this gentle moment with you.

You on the other hand were enchanted by the color of his eyes. A rich blue you tried to pinpoint through the catalog of flowers in your mind. Could the color be matched to a morning glory? A harvestbell? A brunnera? Forget-me-nots? Delphiniums? Hydrangeas?

The longer you thought the more you concluded no flower seemed close enough to the particular shade of blue that was looking right at you.

“Thank you,” your voice was far too quiet for your liking when you broke the silence. You brought Bucky back to the present, yet not from the trance you had him in. He was particularly invested in the curve of your lips when you spoke and the way your eyes held his like you had known him all your life.

Bucky cleared his throat, propping his arm on the counter in a nonchalant manner, “Not a problem—looked like you could use the help.” He topped his cool reply with a casual shrug and smirk that made it seem like he did this all the time.

“Was it that obvious?”

“For a second there I thought those things would crush you.”

Your sheepishness melts away into a laugh. The sound leaving your lips before you could stop it. You imagine what you must have looked like struggling with those heavy crates. The mental image of it is enough to fill you with mortified mirth.

Your laugh elicits a soft chuckle from him—the first proper laugh he’s had in about a week or two.

“‘m gonna go get the rest for ya…” he pushes himself off from the counter, but his voice trails off by the end when he realizes he never asked for your name. A heartbeat passes and with one quick lookover your frame a nickname falls effortlessly from his lips.

“Tulip.”

Your heart does a little flip in your chest. You know exactly why he called you that. You were wearing denim overalls self embroidered with a multitude of small tulips adorning it in a range of colors. As if that weren’t enough tulips, you had two small pink tulip hair clips on either side of your head, pinning your hair away from your face.

“I-It’s Y/n, actually.”

“Pretty thing like you—Tulip suits ya.”

The nickname already had your heart fluttering, but the wink that followed his compliment had you weak in the knees. This man was handsome—deadly handsome. You had sworn off men for a whole year and counting—and now this man presented himself into your life tempting you to throw that oath away until it was nonexistent.

“Thank you, but you really don’t have to help with the rest um…”

“Bucky. The name's Bucky. And I don’t have to, but I want to, so don’t worry ‘bout it, Tulip.”

With an emphasis on the nickname he’s chosen for you, he makes a smooth exit, the smirk never leaving his face as he saunters back and forth from the pickup truck and carries in crate after crate for you. You distract yourself with miscellaneous tasks around your shop. Yet, your eyes drift to his form here and there greedily taking in his display of strength.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky notices, and every time he does he unknowingly straightens up his posture. Trying to make it seem as though the crates were as light as a feather.

When’s he’s all done—after ten crates in total—you’re behind the main counter, arranging a small basket of goods as he approaches you.

“That’s all of ‘em. Mind me askin’ what’s in ‘em?” Bucky motions over to the crates at his feet with a nod of his head. You present him with a basket of sweet spreads encased in decorated mason jars—the covers all distinctly patterned with different florals.

“They’re my homemade jams and honeys. As a thank you for helping me carry all those crates in here, I’m giving you one of each,” you hand him the basket and his features soften. His fingers hovering over the rim of the basket like he doesn’t believe he deserved such kindness.

“Tulip, ya really don’t have to thank me for helpin’.”

“I don’t have to, but I want to, so don’t worry about it, Bucky.”

When you echo his words from earlier and use them on him he lets out a breath of a laugh, a grin of disbelief on his face. He didn’t expect that. Having his words used against him in a good way.

He was used to the opposite of that.

You were something else and Bucky liked that. He liked that a lot. Especially the way you said his name, it sounded sweeter falling from your lips. As if his name were made out of the same sugary sweetness the goods in the basket were. It caused a stutter within his chest he wasn’t used to.

No one’s ever given Bucky butterflies this quickly–or maybe ever like this in his life.

For the next twenty minutes you both dove into small talk to get to know each other better. It started off as a pretext of a friendly conversation between two business owners, but it quickly became something more. You confirmed Bucky’s assumptions about you being a florist when you chatted away about your shop. Your outfit and the floral mosaic that decorated one of the walls—the one you told him your aunt had hand painted—was enough for him to put the pieces together. You learned that Bucky owned a bar a few blocks down, one that he ran with his childhood friends. He had served the military with a lot of them and even knew some of them since he was a young boy.

As if the leather jacket, the leather gloves, and the motorcycle parked outside wasn’t enough to tell you—he clearly was a biker. You knew as much when he had this passionate look in his eyes as he went on and on about him and his bestfriend Steve fixing up motorcycles since their high school years. He saw the same passion in your eyes when you told him the story of how your aunt had awakened your love for gardening. The very catalyst of events that led you to move into town and end up on this night here with him.

Both of you offered a part of yourselves in that conversation. An exchange that might seem small to others, but that to the both of you meant so much more. For you both had closed a part of yourselves off for quite some time.

For entirely different reasons, but with a similar outcome nonetheless.

“Let’s make a deal. I get to keep callin’ ya Tulip and you can call me for help anytime ya need it,” Bucky offers this after you explain to him that your aunt had only been visiting you and left a few days ago. Leaving you to finish up the preparations for the grand opening of your shop in a few days time.

“Tempting offer…” you start, pretending to think about it and hiding your delight at the thought. In reality, you could use the help, and seeing more of Bucky was an added bonus that was hard to refuse. You wanted to get to know him better—you couldn’t deny that—and this seemed like a perfect place to start.

Plus who were you kidding, you enjoyed being called Tulip.

“Alright deal,” your smile matches his when you agree. Bucky was in the same boat as you. Not knowing where this could go, not dwelling on what the future may hold, but certain that he wanted to spend more time with you.

Reluctantly, Bucky pulled away from the counter,“Well I gotta hit the road, the guys’ll be wonderin’ where I’ve been.” The vibrations in his pocket from his phone notifications told him as much.

You hid your disappointment behind a grateful expression,“Of course. I won’t keep you any longer. Thanks again for the help, Bucky. Let me know what you think of the spreads!”

Bucky grabbed a hold of the basket of sweets, and slowly walked backwards towards the exit as he wanted to keep his eyes on you for as long as he could. Every fiber of his being fighting to stay.

“Anytime, Tulip—and I’ll let ya know. Have a good night.”

“You too, Bucky. Drive safe!”

Bucky walked back to his Harley smiling like a teenager with a crush. His every step feeling lighter than earlier in the night. Whether he recognized it or not that day, it was all because of you. There was just something about you that was refreshing to Bucky, like the morning air after a night of heavy rain. The first rays of sunlight after a cold winter’s night. The cool breeze that brings you back to life on a hot summer’s day.

That was you.

You were the morning air, the sunlight, and the cool breeze.

He didn’t know it yet, but in due time he would.

In due time, you would be his Tulip.

tagging some lovelies who asked to be tagged & others who seemed eager to read more ♡ ♡ ♡

@fanfictionreaderfan @nicksolemnlyswears @tilltheendofthelinebuckaroo @princessjellyfishlove @thewritergremlin-rae

(these tags were only for this fic and not for the full collection, so if you'd like to be tagged for the full thing let me know!!)

#other secret little corner — fic recs #mel❣️

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dalivanmagritte · 1 year ago

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NCT FIC REC : JEONG JAEHYUN

back to the nct fic rec

favs

just us. (fav, smut, fluff, royal!au)

promise of duke (fav, smut, nobless!au)

oops, baby (i love you) (fav, smut, fluff, angstish, modern royal!au)

a summer love (fav, fluff, suggestive, 60's!au, smalltowngirl!au)

seeds of pomegranate (fav, angst, smut, fluff, greek mythology!au)

no smut

just friends (fluff, college!au)

i've got my eye on you (fluff, deaf!jaehyun)

je ne sais quoi (fluff, suggestive)

stars, moons & other celestial bodies (angstish, fluff, retro!au)

boyfriend material (fluff, fake dating!au, angstish, college!au)

7:37 (fluff, college!au)

pastas? (fluff)

classics (smut)

team captain (smut, fluff, college!au)

the charming (smut, housemate!au, college!au)

romanée-conti (smut, fluff, sugardaddy!au)

the v week spy (smut, fluff, college!au, stvalentine!au)

king of the streets (smut, fluff, angst, streetracer!au, journalist!au)

begin again (smut, angst)

die in your arms (smut, angst, spooky!au)

rose bud (smut, fluff, angstish, college!au)

pregnant partner (fluff, smut)

boy toy (smut)

body party (smut, boxer!au)

milf (smut, fluff, milf!au)

no distraction (smut)

one of the girls (smut, neighbor!au)

sleep well, princess (fluff, smut, brotherbff!au)

horizon (smut, office!au, ceo!au)

chained (smut, arranged marriage!au)

Fucking up the sheets (smut)

back for more (smut)

our little secret (smut, ceo!au)

teacher's pet (smut, teacher!au)

deadly kiss (smut, office!au)

jaehyun's new secretary (smut, office!au, ceo!au)

stress no more (smut, ceo!au)

make a mess for me (smut)

racer (smut, angst, streetracer!au)

trick or treat (smut, halloween!au, dad!jaehyun, neighbour!reader, ceo!au)

trick or treat (smut, halloween!au, neighbour!au, voyeur!au)

a nonsense christmas (smut, camgirl!au)

christmas puppy (smut, fluff)

cockwarming (smut)

runway (angst, fluff, smutish, e2l!au, fashion!au)

you have one missed call (smut)

tits obsessed (smut)

19:30 (smut)

heart aches (smut)

honeymoon avenue (smut, angstish)

around the corner (fluff, angst, rich!au)

deadly kiss (smut, fluff, office!au, architect!au, engineer!au)

baby making (smut, new parents!au)

daddy in the streets, husband in the sheets (smut)

bf! jaehyun (smut, fluff)

hearts won at practice (fluff, smut, junior footballplayer!au)

that's it (smut)

popsicle (smut)

perv! jaehyun (smut)

handle with care (smut, office!au)

alternate universe (magics, gods, royalty, etc...)

just us. (smut, fluff, royal!au)

sleep well? (smut, incubus!au)

of sunrise and roses (fluff, suggestive, demigod!au, mythology!au)

on the shore of the styx (angst, mythology!au)

son of zeus (fluff, demigod!au, mythology!au)

son of lachesis (fluff, angstish, demigod!au, mythology!au)

son of dionysus (angst, demigod!au, mythology!au)

two worlds appart part.2 (angst, smut, royal!au)

midday reverie (smut, angst, fluff, abo!au)

not so charming (fluff, hogwarts!au)

twilight (smut, vampire!au)

shapeshifter wolf (fluff, angst, witch!au, shapeshifter!au)

head over broomsticks (fluff, suggestive, hogwarts!au)

wrong hands (smut, bodyguard!au, mafia!au)

motives (1) (smut, demon!au)

perfume (smut, werewolf!au, witch!au)

can't get you out of my mind (smut, fluff, angst, abo!au)

with another member

danger x johnny (smut, abo!au)

can you handle it? x johnny, jeno, jaemin (smut)

i wanna make you scream (smut, ghostface!au)

send in the clowns x mark x haechan (smut, halloween!au)

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allwaswell16 · 2 months ago

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A fic rec of omegaverse One Direction fics with a role reversal where the Omega is a dom and the alpha is a sub as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

🔻 Skip the Small Talk by @sadaveniren

(E, 20k, kink) Harry is an alpha that's just a little too soft to be a good dom but that's okay because Louis is an omega who is a little too rough to be a good sub.

🔻 I Want You S'more by @2tiedships2

(M, 17k, strangers to lovers) the one where the least alpha-y alpha and the least omega-y omega show that secondary genders aren’t set in stone and sometimes it works when you kinda share that.

🔻 gold-skinned, eager baby by StarryDay13 / @daydreaming-sunflower

(E, 16k, uni) "That’s just how the two of them work. Louis is an arrogant bastard with a soft spot for the alpha and Harry will do everything Louis says."

🔻 you're the one that I'm dreamin' of (you're the one that I love) by journeytothepast / @suckerforhome

(E, 11k, modeling) Being a part of Victoria's Secret show means being around dozens of omega-models. They don't make Harry nervous, though. Louis does. And so do the secret feelings he has been keeping for years.

🔻 Louis/Harry Role Reversal (series) by orphan_account

(E, 10k, Omega Louis) Harry doesn't like the things that most alphas do.

🔻 Moon Baby by @jaerie

(E, 7k, porn stars) Taking it up the ass from other alphas made Louis a well known star in his corner of the internet. Moon Baby is arguably the most well known pregnant omegas in the same circle.

🔻 If you let me by @hssatellite28

(E, 5k, phone sex) Louis' gone on a work trip and Harry is...desperate.

🔻 Trenigh: Sweet Nothing by @littleohs

(M, 4k, girl direction) Louis thought it was fine, that she could do it quickly and Harry would never notice. But maybe she hadn't been quick enough, and it had gone wrong.

🔻 My Sweet Alpha by RedxHell_05

(E, 3k, friends to lovers) Harry and Louis are best friends since forever, but one afternoon their relationship took a turn.

🔻 don’t know why but it feels so right to me by KatnissPotter1

(M, 3k, coworkers) “Mm…you know how many omegas go crazy for this right here?” He purred, slowly moving his hand over it. He thought it might be sensitive for Louis, and he was right. The alpha was trembling.

🔻 I Wish U Were Inside Me by Kikiberoski16 / @larrysballetslippers

(E, 2k, established relationship) Louis likes to be fucked while sleeping, Harry isn't sure if he's allowed this night.

🔻 Something Different by orphan_account

(E, 2k, bondage) Even if Harry is the dominant one, sometimes the life gets too hectic. Well, a role-reversal is in order. Or, A non-traditional one shot, where omega!Louis wrecks alpha!Harry

🔻 I got me an appetite, now I can taste it by @enchantedlandcoffee

(E, 1k, pwp) Louis and Harry try something new in the bedroom.

- Rare Pairs -

🔻 Submit To Me by HorrorJunkie

(E, 122k, Styles Triplets/Louis) Louis is a beautiful, sassy and smart omega. He's also the owner of a BDSM club called Sanctum.

#weekly recs #ficrec #omegaverse #1dsquad #1dficvillage #hltracks #hljournal #hlcreators

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aftgficrec · 21 days ago

Note

favourite fics featuring halloween? (thank you guys for all your work!)

Here are some spooktacular fics for you! You may notice we often point out where a fic has been recced before. If you like the theme or mood of a fic, chances are you will find more like it in the ask where it was featured. -A

previous recs:

Staff Recs Oct 2020 Halloween/Spookiness here

Staff Recs Oct 2021 - Halloween here

Staff Recs Oct 2021 - More Halloween: Costumes, Fluff & Crack here

foxes in a haunted house here

supernatural compilation here

autumnal/spooky fics here

Flavors of Fall by NikNak22 [Rated E, 146194 Words, Complete, 2022]

Previously recced here

…Neil’s not the only one with secrets in this town. Everyone seems to have something they’ve kept hidden in the dark. And as soon as one thread gets pulled, they all seem to come unraveled… Featuring second chances, making mistakes, budding relationships, and as many fall shenanigans as possible – welcome to the smalltown world of Palmetto!

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: panic attacks, tw: homophobia, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: self harm, tw: animal abuse

Fang and Stake by darkbluebox [Rated T, 2658 Words, Complete, 2020]

Previously recced here

For most hunters, it would have been a wet dream: his quarry beaten, bleeding, trapped and prone before him. He might as well have been holding a stake on a silver platter. If it had been any other vampire in the world, Andrew wouldn’t have hesitated to drive the splintering chunk of wood through his chest and be done with it. Unfortunately, Neil wasn’t any other vampire.

tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced abuse

swing me your bones by sundowne [Rated T, 3447 Words, Complete, 2022]

Ditched parties, neglected movies, cold cocoa.

Sugar & Spice (and everything... nice?) by Willow_bird [Rated T, 7468 Words, Complete, AFTG Exchange Fall 2020]

Previously recced here

“I’m not going as Tombo.” He’d end up looking like Where’s Waldo if he’d been a short angry bodybuilder and no one wanted that. Renee’s little smile hinted at her having a similar visual. “I think I may have something that would require few changes to what you’re wearing now and would be minimal hassle altogether.” Andrew accompanies Renee to a Halloween party, allowing his best friend to dictate his costume because he really couldn’t be paid to care. Then he gets there, and yeah, his crush is wearing the exact same costume. Feelings happen.

deadly encounters by jeanyvesmoreau [Rated T, 4012 Words, Complete, AFTG Halloween Zine 2022, Locked]

Neil, trying to avoid Halloween celebrations once again, finds his way into the dark corner of a bar. There, he meets Andrew. Or, how Neil Josten discovers vampires are real after hundreds of years he's been alive.

tw: violence, tw: blood

Cryptid Serial Killer Witch Man by attfna [Rated M, 17008 Words, Complete, 2020]

Previously recced here

Just a story about your typical, spooky cryptic and his curious gardener.

tw: scars, tw: explicit sexual content

open season by nomadicdeer (someonestolemycoffee) [Rated G, 2287 Words, Complete, 2017]

Previously recced here

Dan declares open season just before Halloween. Featuring andreil kisses, misuse of brussel sprouts, Matt in lingerie, and more.

5 times realisation struck Neil & 1 time he acted on it by alex_wh0 [Rated T, 7503 Words, Complete, AFTG Fall Exchange 2020]

Previously recced here

"Neil looked across the room at Andrew and felt a surge of affection so intense that it stuck in his throat. He wondered how someone who had rolled out of bed barely an hour ago could have the audacity to make him feel like this." or Five times Neil Josten had a realisation and one time he did something about it.

if you're just tuning in walk into the light by orphan_account [Rated T, 8824 Words, Complete, 2020]

Previously recced here

Andrew runs a small shop in Palmetto with his brother. It's monotonous. He takes care of his plants, makes tinctures, provides minimal customer service, and teases Kevin for his heart eyes over Aaron. It's boring, but it's good. And then Wymack hires someone new, and some things change.

The endless mental math required to simply survive. by melbopo [Rated T, 17400 Words, Complete, 2021]

Free booze and candy at Seth's expense for his frat's Halloween party on Friday? Say no more, Andrew will be there, mandatory costume and all. Perhaps Matt's new Exy loving stray will even occupy Kevin for the whole night so he doesn't give Andrew inane lectures about wasting talent and potential on intramural teams, leaving him to drink his free alcohol in blissful peace. Really, the simple mental math checks out in his favor on this one. ~~~~ (alternative title: Andrew Minyard and his acquaintances [that are actually his friends])

tw: homophobia

aaron's lament by nanatsuyu [Rated T, 9061 Words, Complete, AFTG Fall Exchange 2021, Locked]

Previously recced here

It's the first holiday Katelyn and Aaron have hosted in their own apartment. Katelyn thinks it'll be fun. Aaron thinks there are far too many people in his home.

An Unpleasant Surprise by justdk [Rated T, 3689 Words, Complete, 2018]

Previously recced here

Neil's visit to the haunted house is not fun. At all.

tw: panic attacks

best thing by exactly13percent_OLD (hymbeaux) [Rated M, 4117 Words, Complete, 2019]

Previously recced here

Aaron has 48 hours off. Kevin has a party to attend. They both have unanswered questions.

firsts by exactly13percent_OLD (hymbeaux) [Rated G, 6270 Words, Complete, 2019]

Previously recced here

Andrew and Neil have fostered Clara and Riley for a little over a year. It's their first Halloween. It's taken a while for both kids to become comfortable, and tonight is for them.

Say something, say yes by DeyaAmaya [Rated T, 2851 Words, Complete, 2018]

Previously recced here

'I can't leave. I need to say goodbye to your son. I can't leave like this.' Mary smiles. Andrew feels a shiver down his spine. Her lips don't move, but he can hear her voice clear as a bell. 'You're not saying goodbye to him.'

tw: major character injury

House To Haunt by moonix [Rated M, 65356 Words, Complete, 2023, Locked]

This fic is a choose your own adventure game! Follow Kevin as he explores an abandoned mansion with a Fox companion of your choice. You can discover different parts of the mansion, learn about its previous owners' history, romance Kevin's companion, collect interesting items, solve puzzles, rescue Kevin and his friends from a variety of sticky situations... and then do it all over again! !!Please make sure to read the instructions at the beginning before you start playing!!

Something Out of Nothing by Aquared46 [Rated E, 20831 Words, Complete, AFTG Fall Exchange 2024]

Fox’s Hollow had attracted tourists for decades with its haunted history and Halloween festivals. A resident for many years, Andrew doesn't believe in ghosts or hauntings, but when his workplace is being investigated by ghosthunters, he spends his early hours with a man far more intriguing and haunted than a ghost could ever be.

tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced torture

it's almost halloween by reaching_my_summit [Rated T, 2677 Words, Complete, 2017]

the Foxes celebrate halloween together at Eden's. someone flirts with Andrew. Neil is not about that.

do you like scary movies? by Ominous, Stjosten [Rated T, 22519 Words, Complete, 2020]

Previously recced here

To say Andrew has never seen the benefit in the make-believe would be a lie. However, he finds less and less use for it as he grows older. He especially fails to see the benefits of anything from the horror genre; he’s made plenty of his own mistakes, has seen more than enough to terrify him in his life. He doesn’t need to rely on jump scares and idiotic protagonists. But when he meets Neil, self-proclaimed horror archivist, he finds that maybe he never gave the genre the credit it was due, and he ends up thanking the dull movies eventually… They lead him to Neil, the realest thing he’s ever known.

pumpkin heads by moonix [Rated T, 4278 Words, Complete, 2023, Locked]

Tonight is the night. Halloween, Andrew and Neil's last night working at the pumpkin patch, and the night Andrew is finally going to ask Kevin out. If only they could find Kevin... (Based on the graphic novel Pumpkin Heads, but you don't need to have read it to understand the fic.)

Andrew Minyard Loves Fall (and will fight anyone who doesn’t) by mareofthesky [Rated G, 11074 Words, Complete, 2022]

Andrew is trying to enjoy his favorite season in peace, but a certain Mystery Man keeps popping up out of nowhere. With a long string of aliases, an infuriating mouth, and striking features, he's managed to catch Andrew's attention in a way that not many can. Andrew can't seem to get the menace out of his head, but he's beginning to think he doesn't want to.

NB: author’s fall spotify playlist here

skylight by djhedy [Rated T, 5560 words, Complete, AFTG Fall Exchange 2020]

Previously recced here

neil moves to a pro team, a new apartment, in a new city, and is held up by his friends. and by a series of mysterious gifts left on his doormat.

What if We Held Hands in our Pyjama Pants by transjorts [Rated T, 9301 Words, Complete, 2021]

A very soft, autumn-themed high school au in which Andrew, Aaron and Nicky are the new kids and Neil accidentally catches feelings.

tw: dysphoria, tw: transphobia, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Art

aftghalloweenzine cosplay by @foxy-exy

your favorite emotional support sapphics art by @kashjsnsndnan

Renison as Witch and vampire art by @pria-png

adoptive!Bee halloween and happy halloween! art by @deklo

andreil halloween costumes art by @manekkii-art

andreil halloween costumes art by @lunapiq

All family together art by @kurra

the foxes in their costumes art by @jojen-hewitt

Neil and Andrew in Eden’s outfits + Halloween art by @fabulousmisfits

happy halloween, foxes art by @jeannemaybedarc

Put ‘em up and Neil costume comic art by @emry-stars-art

Halloween party… art by @stiigex

Halloween andreil makeup meme art by @jesperandwylansittinginnatree

AngelJean and DevilJeremy art by @blablablabel

81 notes · View notes

buck-star · 26 days ago

Text

BUCKY! SOFT! POSSESSIVENESS AND SLIGHTLY JEALOUS READER? DEFINITELY A GO!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Plus the picture you chose! This is amazing and perfect and uhhhh I love it so so much, just like your writing!

“Thought I could walk you back to the apartment. You know…the old-fashioned way.”

Biker!Bucky is hot and sexy! BUT BUCKY WALKING HS HOME THE OLD FASHIONED WAY? THIS IS SWEET, PERFECT! ADORABLE AND PRECIOUS!

He doesn’t say this to earn any reaction from you, so he misses the way your eyes soften.

Awwwww, he just wants to be cute! HE IS ALWAYS BUT THAT MAKES HIM EVEN SWEETER!🙂‍↕️❤️ I’m in love with him, now even more if ifs even possible!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

He’s loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt to offer up a triangle of smooth, tan skin.

BUCKY THAT'S ONLY OURS TO SEE!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ but I ask myself too why we haven’t kissed him and his pretty skin and his pretty face, his pretty face and his pretty everything yet.🙂‍↕️😂

As if sensing your gaze, his eyes shift from the passing blur of the city and meet yours in the glass.

This is so sweet and intimate at the same time! Oh I love this man so much, and you make me fall in love with him so much harder. And I love him already sooooo much!🥺❤️

More passengers board at the next stop and he moves, giving his seat to an elderly lady with a heavy bag in each hand. She showers him with sweet praise before sitting and smiling at you.

He’s such a gentleman! So perfect! SO PERFECT! Our man our man our man our man!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

He laughs at something the older woman says, and you watch his blue eyes crinkle at the corners and the dark strands of his hair fall in front of his forehead.

We can’t blame those girls becuase Bucky’s precious, handsome, pretty and sexy. But luckily, HES ALL OURS! Hehe, when he laughs he’s so cute and ahhhh this man is the sweetest and softest!🥺🥺

Because it’s this moment he chooses to glance down at you, eyes soft and warm as he reaches to brush his metal thumb along your bottom lip.

Their dynamics! Urgh, he’s just the perfect boyfriend, only having eyes for his girl and knowing exactly how to make her happy and feel special — because for him she is!🥺🥺

You turn into his hand and press your mouth to his palm.

I’M GONNA CRY! I CANT handle that much softness today. But I love it! I adore it! Such a small gesture but so meaningful.

He kisses you sweetly in the middle of the street, causing several people to part and move around you, their muttered grumbles going completely unnoticed.

I WOULD MELT INTO A PUDDLE! Would he kiss me… and even more in front of others. He’s not afraid to let everyone know that he’s happy and has the girl he loves by his side!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

“I wasn’t done kissing you doll face,” he says with the corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes sparkling.

I adore and love how he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. I mean yes he talked to the elder lady, but just becuase it’s cute. BUT HE DOESNT CARE WHO IS STARING AT HIM, unless it’s his girl! He doesn’t care about it otherwise! He’s so perfect, such a gentleman.🥺❤️ YES KISS ME MORE! KISS ME SENSELESS!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

“I wish you could feel what I feel when I look at you doll,” he whispers against your lips. “Then maybe, just maybe you’d understand why I can’t look at anyone else.”

WITHOUT LYING! I have tears in my eyes. WOAH THAT WAS DEEP, so cute and with such a love and affection. This man! YEAH I LOVE AND ADORE HIM!🥺❤️

JO? THANK YOU! This was another masterpiece and I love you for it! Bucky’s the sweetest and I didn’t know I could fall more in love with him, but I just did. He has just eyes for her, for the girl he loves and he’s so soft. Their dynamics is so amazing and sweet! WE NEED TO WRAP HIM INTO A BLANKET AND CUDDLE HIM, KEEP HIM SAFE AND LOVED. He's so precious and I love the way you write him, I adore it.❤️❤️ NEW COMFORT FIC!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

This Is Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 918

Summary: You have a late day at work and Bucky wants to walk you home.

Author's Note: This is just some softness because why not! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft sweetness and fluff, maybe our reader feeling a little jealous and possessive hehe

The evening breeze ruffles the bottom of your dress, and the fabric tickles the back of your thighs as the scent of hot dogs and car exhaust drifts from the street.

You glance at the curb. “Where’s your bike?”

“Home,” Bucky answers simply as he takes your hand in his. “Thought I could walk you back to the apartment. You know…the old-fashioned way.”

He doesn’t say this to earn any reaction from you, so he misses the way your eyes soften.

You’ve both had late days. You were finishing things up at the office and he was working with Sam at the VA. Now, however, it’s time to go home and he insisted on meeting you so you could make the trip together.

The busiest part of the day has come and gone but you’re still lucky to find seats together on the crowded train. You watch your reflection in the window opposite you and even in the grimy glass and beneath the harsh, often flickering fluorescent lights, it’s impossible to miss how beautiful he is.

He’s loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt to offer up a triangle of smooth, tan skin. The open shirt frames his long neck, the tempting hint of collarbone peeking out just enough to make you wonder why you aren’t kissing it right now.

As if sensing your gaze, his eyes shift from the passing blur of the city and meet yours in the glass. Your reflections rock with the movement of the train, and he watches you too, a small, knowing smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

More passengers board at the next stop and he moves, giving his seat to an elderly lady with a heavy bag in each hand. She showers him with sweet praise before sitting and smiling at you.

Bucky takes the spot in front of you, his right arm raised to grip the handrail suspended from the ceiling.

You now have an exceptional view of his torso and the front of his dress pants.

Yummy.

The sound of laughter draws your attention, and you see a group of girls seated only a few rows away. They sit with their heads pressed together and if their hushed giggles and wide-eyed stares are any indication, you know exactly what they’re looking at. Or rather, whom.

You look up to find Bucky looking down at the older woman, listening and oblivious to the leering glances being cast in his direction.

You can’t blame the girls. If you saw Bucky on the train you’d do whatever you could to get a better look. It makes you think back to the first time you met and how you were immediately drawn to him.

He laughs at something the older woman says, and you watch his blue eyes crinkle at the corners and the dark strands of his hair fall in front of his forehead. He looks boyish and gorgeous and you immediately glance over like the jealous wife you are and sure enough, every head in that group of girls is turned, eyes wide, mouths wider, swooning.

And even though you haven’t spoken a word, you begin to wonder if every thought you have is somehow projected onto a screen above your head. Because it’s this moment he chooses to glance down at you, eyes soft and warm as he reaches to brush his metal thumb along your bottom lip.

You turn into his hand and press your mouth to his palm.

He’s beaming when the train comes to a stop and takes your hand as you stand and pulls you out the door, sliding his arm around your waist as soon as you’re on the platform.

“I like this,” he says quietly, tucking you into his side.

You laugh. “Like what?”

“Walking you home.”

He kisses you sweetly in the middle of the street, causing several people to part and move around you, their muttered grumbles going completely unnoticed. The kiss is so soft, so earnest that your chest swells painfully and you wrap your arms around his neck to hold him to you.

The group of girls walk by and in the background you hear their wistful sighs and comments.

“She’s so lucky,” one of the girls says.

You pull away from Bucky and look their way, grabbing hold of his suit jacket possessively.

“Did you hear that?” you mutter.

“Hear what doll?” he asks, his eyes on you, having never left.

“Those girls have been swooning over you since we were on the train.”

“What girls?” Bucky asks, his full attention still on you.

You finally drag your eyes away from the retreating group to meet his.

“I wasn’t done kissing you doll face,” he says with the corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes sparkling.

His palm frames your cheek, and he pulls you closer, uncaring that you’re still standing in the middle of the busy city street.

You grab his wrist and lean into his touch.

“Bucky.”

The admonishment is totally empty, and he knows it, bumping your nose with his before the soft press of his lips is all you feel.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t notice them,” you whisper, eyes closed, and face pressed to his.

“Look at me,” he murmurs.

Your eyes open.

“I wish you could feel what I feel when I look at you doll,” he whispers against your lips. “Then maybe, just maybe you’d understand why I can’t look at anyone else.”

#other secret little corner — fic recs #Jo❣️

761 notes · View notes

pedgito · 11 months ago

Text

MILLER'S GIRL ✎ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Delusions of Fantasy

Chapter Summary: Settling into the semester, you find yourself in an unsuspecting position with your professor, meetings that shouldn't feel so secret but do and an assignment that may change the course of things for the better...or much worse. [5k]

[student/teacher relationship, age gap, no outbreak, power dynamic]

Chapter Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, professor!joel miller (his teacher persona is v different from outside of the classroom, so if he seems slightly ooc....close your eyes), dom!joel, sub!reader, reader is a little obsessed with joel (and delusional), mentions of infidelity (not by joel), sarah doesn't exist here, background tess x joel, inappropriate relationships/actions, talks of literature and lots of random writing topics, more dream smut that translates into writing, gratuitous descriptions of mr. miller's body and personality, joel is conspicuously toeing the line of lusting after a student while reader is very obvious, some unspoken sexual tension

— AO3 | PLAYLIST | PINTEREST

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec

You weren’t sure when days would begin to blur, pulling all-nighters to finish assignments that you kept putting off until the absolute last minute. But, the small coffee shop on the edge of campus has become your pseudo-home, early mornings and occasional nights when you need the extra energy boost or focus.

There was a perfect little nook in the corner of the coffee shop that was hidden behind a wall. A small alcove that was usually empty—at least, it was when you tried to use it. And you find yourself there on a lonely night, crisp autumn air biting at your skin as you slip into the coffee shop. It’s mostly empty at this hour and you order your usual drink of choice before you’re slipping around the corner with your coffee in hand, startled by the sight before you.

“Oh, shit—Mr. Miller—” You stammer, stepping back awkwardly as you almost run into his arm that is flipping a pen between his fingers, his gaze flicking up to you curiously.

He’s just as surprised to see you here, but ultimately, it makes more sense in retrospect.

He had a house, an office (both here on campus and at home), but he preferred a place like this, surrounded by the smell of coffee and the gentle ambience. He could’ve gone home to Tess and gave up grading and preparing assignments, but that didn’t sound appealing either. He finds the more he’s in Tess’s presence, the worse his thoughts wonder.

That maybe escaping to the coffee shop would push you from his mind, but here you were, in the flesh, and Joel couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

He offers a curt nod, polite. Part of him expects you to just…go away. But, he has the idea that he’s probably taking up your usual study spot. Before he entertains the idea of leaving, you take a seat silently in the chair across from him, holding up your hand.

“No, it’s fine—you don’t have to leave or anything.” You tell him assuredly, opening up your laptop as you settle into your spot, eyes connecting with his over the edges of your screen, his expression looking a little more jaded than your own.

You were exhausted, but he was exhausted and upset. You couldn’t be sure at what, but there was the glaring fact that he was here, nearing midnight, when he could easily be at home. You didn’t question it though, finding that if you wanted to, you could wear him down enough to talk.

“So,” After a long stretch of silence and his silent typing away at his keyboard and you still staring at a mostly blank screen, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get much work done with him around, thoughts and eyes wondering curiously, “I read those books you suggested.”

Ah, right. The email he’d sent on a whim. A lapse of judgment after the fact, seeing how it could be misconstrued, knowing it could be viewed as inappropriate.

The thoughts he was having were inappropriate, but even then, he knew he would never entertain it. And shit, you’re still looking at him, expecting some type of answer.

“Did you enjoy them?” He asks simply, no elaboration or asking for much.

Just a simple yes or no.

There’s an angst that settles in your gut over his acknowledgment of the email, nodding quietly.

You had, truthfully. It was a few poem books he said were his favorites, and you could see where your interests intertwined, finding that the tone in the poems he enjoys reading is what you also enjoy reading.

Angst, dread, intense feeling that was hard to ignore.

And truthfully, Mr. Miller was impossible to ignore.

“I read them the other night,” You add, pulling up a half-finished assignment from your English course, “you’ve got…good taste.”

Joel chuckles quietly at that, easing slightly in his seat. Part of him was worried, even if his intentions were in the right place, that things may be misconstrued. He breaths out a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding in.

“I figured you’d enjoy them.” He smirks slightly.

You feel your cunt clenching at the subtlety, crossing one leg over the other as you find a hauty comparison to his words, thought flashing through your mind.

You’d gone to bed with the words of the poems on your mind that night, but the voice wasn’t lacking in tone or voiceless—in fact, it was his voice. His words as he pumped one, two, and then three fingers into you over his desk, hands clenched into his shirt as you held onto him like a lifeline, only surfacing back to reality just as you were about to come.

But, he didn’t need to know that.

And you didn’t need to know how desperate he fucked himself into a lonely fist when he was pent up from work (which was more often than not, lately) with the image of you on his mind.

He’s never had thoughts like this and he can’t comprehend why—part of him wants to blame Tess and her choices and the stress it has put on his marriage. But, Joel has been checked out for a while and this, even though only in the confines of his mind, feels like an even worse betrayal.

“You should send me more.” A soft sip on your coffee as you stare flirtatiously over the rim of your cup—cool it, you tell yourself. But, it doesn’t work.

There’s a small twitch in his face, the deepest hint of a smile saying—yeah, I’ll challenge that—but it quickly fades.

“Just…if you want to,” You add, playing things subtly, carefully, “if that’s okay?”

Joel knows he shouldn’t entertain the idea, but he sees the genuineness in your expression, beyond his attraction toward you. You had a desire to write and share and feel—he could respect that. He nods slightly, pressing his laptop closed and gathering his things slowly.

“Alright—give me a couple days,” Joel bargains, “Anything you prefer?”

You shake your head innocently, wishing he would recommend his own literature. You wanted to see how deep his ego ran, if he had the nerve to be so bold. “Anything you like, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it too.”

It was an understatement.

And the accidental coffee shop mishap doesn’t end there. In fact, it quickly grows out of control, beyond your own intention—this was natural, no coaxing needed.

–

Joel hated how much he craved your presence outside of work, in this stupid fucking coffee shop—but like his dependency to schedule and caffeine, he finds you become a normal occurrence and it throws him out of wack when you’re not around.

Luckily, you never strayed. You were there every night, even early mornings when he had to take a retirement for the night—you didn’t need to pry, you knew. He’d twist a nervous hand around his wrist that slowly trailed to his ring finger, fingers flexing anxiously. He had to be home, he didn’t want more problems. Even if this was somehow helping him work through his inhibitions, he still had a responsibility.

And Joel knows the time he’s spending with you could be misconstrued, but he does it out of a genuineness to further your interest and desire into literature if anything. He’s met with many students after hours—though, not to this extent. And always within the grounds of school, either in the classroom or his assigned office, nothing beyond the border of allowing a personal connection.

He was bending rules for you and he couldn’t help it.

There’s so much you learn in the short month or so that this drags on—Joel likes black coffee, no add-ins or sweet touches. He fidgets a lot, fingers constantly twisting at the watch on his wrist or scratching at his slowly regrowing stubble when he had just shaven a day or two prior—you start to notice the small blank patches in his beard because of it.

He seems so unsuspecting and normal—maybe that was what drew you in. You couldn’t really pinpoint it anymore. There was a point where the secret admiring morphed into open admiration and maybe Joel should’ve stopped it there. But, it made him feel good.

It made him feel wanted. And that was his first real mistake he made with you.

Allowing it.

It never breached anything inappropriate, but he’d notice when you would track the movement of his hands, rubbing over his face or neck in exhaustion, arms stretching over the back of his head after a long period of sitting down, hunched over in the small sanctuary you two had constantly found yourself in.

Mr. Miller was fair in that he never helped you with his assignments. He wasn’t there to give you a leg up or help you out in that regard, he knew you were capable. Competent. But, he fed your desire for him and literature by asking about your own interests and melding them his own, curating your time together in the small cafe with topics you could both find yourself getting lost in.

It was easy to lose track of time with him. And very irresponsible.

Joel does notice your longing glances and subtle twitches in your face when he does certaIn things, moving his body in a way that accentuates his strong form—he wasn’t toned necessarily, but he was broad, large, and he wasn’t amiss to how his own shirt clung to his body or how well-tailored his slacks were. He liked things to fit well. And you appreciated that so much.

But, beyond your own disappointment, things never cross that line.

He never makes a comment or threads the line of touching you, his hands always aware of their placement around you—and maybe he was just being respectful and was terrified to lose his job, but you can see the flex of his fingers when you remove your sweater or lean in to close to him, his eyes dragging along the slope of your neck, nostrils flaring in response at how comfortable enough you feel to just lean in.

He’s foolish to think this wouldn’t mean anything to you, but he allows that thought to stray from his mind and continues, too attached to these meet-ups like they were his own form of free therapy, beyond the dreadful marriage counseling he was going through.

It wasn’t working, but this was.

And he thinks that it is partly because it’s you and not Tess.

In fact, he knows it’s you.

The emails continue for weeks, days upon days of trading back responses and links—and really, everything is telling him to stop. Everything.

The guilt. The fear. The anger.

Yet, he never tries.

Joel can feel you breaking out of your shell little by little, more engaged in the group setting of the classroom the more time he’s spent with you one on one. He doesn’t want to initiate a responsibility in it, but he can since the familiarity and comfort when you speak–even if it's mostly directed at him.

Truthfully, you didn’t have a problem speaking in front of the class, but if it filled Mr. Miller with a sort of pride, you weren’t going to deny that.

You try to ignore the way he speaks your name, calls on you and beckons you to speak with a raise of his eyebrows, arms crossed firmly over his chest–and your eyes draw to his stomach, following along the soft slope and over his groin and you see his thighs tense as he crosses his legs too, one gently over the other as he leaned against his desk.

You smirk slightly, feigning a look of innocence as your eyes drag to his face, answering his question mindlessly—something about how to capture dialogue properly and even Joel can see that you’re not fully there, mind elsewhere.

It wasn’t hard to surmise where, but he ignored it. For now.

But, it wasn’t until the day was nearing the end of your class, head buried in your laptop as you copied your handwritten notes down into a document for later, knowing absently that he was perusing around the room but trying to ignore his lingering presence every time he glanced over at you.

His hands surround your chair before he announces himself, flimsy plastic creaking underneath his grip.

“Mr. Miller.” You address pleasantly, typing idly away at your keyboard.

He speaks your name gently, a reverence in his tone that allures fondness, a smile creeping on his lips.

“Any questions?” He asks curiously, brow furrowing in confusion, “On the assignment—“

He points blindly to the board, eyes still locked on you as your head turns toward the board, down at your notes, then back at him.

“I mean—not really?” You sound unsure, “Write something fantasy, make it interesting—“

He can feel your interest waning, seeming rather nonchalant about the topic, like it would be an absolute breeze and wasn’t worth the wasted energy. But, he’s challenging you.

To what, you weren’t sure.

Joel clears his throat, grip tightening on the back of your chair as he leaned over subtly, chest crowding around the back of your head, examine the notes you did have type out before his eyes dragging back toward you, and you can’t ignore his gaze, chin turning up toward him and your eyes soften as they connect with his.

“But, specifically—dreams.” He clarifies, “Sometimes your best ideas can come to you in a dream—so think of it as journaling them but, expanding…bringing it to life.”

Dreams…

You’ve had enough of them in preceding weeks to last you a lifetime, all including him.

“Bringing it to life…” You echo his words, mincing the words on your tongue as the idea flusters your mind, a small nod from Joel in response.

Of course, he had no idea the extent of how deep your mind wandered, but his words were edging too close for comfort, like he had the faintest idea.

There’s a brief moment of self awareness as his eyes drag to your lips, tongue dampening them as you soothe the chapped skin, nodding absently.

“I think—I think I understand what you’re saying.”

Mr. Miller smiles then, whether fake or not you couldn’t tell, “Good—feel free to, uh—“

Email him.

You see him hesitate to force the words out, chuckle awkwardly as he leans away, breaking the built up tension between you both.

“Yeah, yep.” You laugh softly, infectiously as you turn your attention back toward your laptop, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

He pats your shoulder softly and squeezes, the only point of contact he ever allows himself, never letting his touch linger or stray because he knows—if he broke that point of contact and wandered elsewhere, he wasn’t sure he could stop.

You tap mindlessly at the edge of your keyboard, laptop resting wobbly in your propped up legs, start to type a word before quick erasing. Mind flicking through baseless and boring ideas, wondering how easily you could muster up a fake dream and amaze Mr. Miller with your lackluster writing skills—just lie, it wasn’t that hard.

You feel your mind wandering then, head hung back against your pillow as you stare at your ceiling, his expression etched into the back of your mind, eyes wandering along the dip in your cupid’s bow and the less than subtle lick of your lips that you offered in return.

This couldn’t all be in your head.

You sigh, heavy and thick, but the soft ding of a notification on your laptop pulls your attention.

On the other end, Joel sits anxiously at his desk, foot tapping insistently against the hardwood floor, still fully dressed from work sans his tie that laid slack on his desk.

It wasn’t even a fully drafted email, rather a precursor to beginnings of an improper, but casual conversation. He tried to keep an open line of communication with all of his students, but when you don’t show up at the coffee shop that night, too burdened with the idea of just what you were going to write—he worries.

‘Are things coming along? Didn’t catch you at the cafe tonight.’

You stare blankly, unsure how to respond.

It felt…odd, starting a conversation over email.

Of course, you didn’t have any other means of communication, so this is what Joel was forced to devolve too, tapping nervously as he awaited your response.

‘Having trouble actually—any suggestions?’

Part of you craves to hear his voice—and selfishly, he does too. And Joel knows the moment he offers the information up, he’s going to regret it. But, he does.

The house was empty, thankfully. Tess was working later than usual and Joel couldn’t be bothered with the semantics, finding himself straying further and further from this bed every night. His office was his new sanctuary, bad back be damned—he would choose the couch over a bed with her, knowing she still judged him for the choices she made.

A phone number is attached to the email that follows, ‘I’m free, if you want to talk through it.’

Your heart desynced from its usual rhythm for a brief moment, nearly fleeing your body if you hadn’t felt it so deeply in your chest. You couldn’t—this…it couldn’t be all in your head.

You quickly type the number into your contacts, hovering for far too many minutes over the call button, wondering if it mattered how you looked—if he would judge. You didn’t appear much different, but you were in your own comforts, vulnerable. And as much as he appeared here in your dreams, the reality of him being this close was startling.

You bite thoughtfully at your bottom lip as you prop your phone against the screen of your laptop, a blank document open behind the calling screen as you went through with your hesitation and attempt to connect the call, chin resting against your fist as you waited, eyes wandering aimlessly around the room.

When the familiar tone blares of the call going through and Joel is suddenly appearing on screen, you’re not sure why you followed through with this in the first place—even if he was the one who insisted it by offering up the information.

He looks slightly more disheveled across the screen, still dressed in the outfit you saw him in earlier, his tie gone, a button or two undone, and he’s definitely allowed his fingers to run through his usually quaffed hair, a curl falling freely over his forehead, his phone seemingly propped up in a similar manner as you can see most his upper body that wasn’t hidden by his desk.

“So, what’s the issue?”

He jumps right in, which isn’t surprising.

You feel the sense of familiarity in your usual conversations, like you were almost there in the room with him—you couldn’t imagine how exhausted you looked or seem currently, but you push the thought from your mind and hoped it didn’t cross his, that he wasn’t harping on your similarly disheveled appearance in his mind.

He seemed as if he genuinely wanted to help.

You hated it, wishing he wouldn’t drag things out.

If he wanted you, he could have you.

Instead, it felt like he wanted to—or rather needed to keep you at a distance, just out of reach for his own good rather than yours.

“Just…wondering, I guess.” You look down briefly, feeling his curiosity through the screen as you pick at a frayed thread in your blanket. “How—how detailed are you asking?”

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be so loud that it feels like…too much?” Joel feels like he may not be making complete sense, but he tries. “Do you have a few dreams you remember well that you feel the need to jot down, that you can morph it into something tangible?”

The way he speaks so eloquently, even beyond the guise of his profession, never gets old. Maybe it is a habit he’s formed, speaking and teaching for so many years that he can’t force himself out of that mode—but maybe he was also allowing it to be a barrier, that if he let his guard down too much that you might sneak in and find a way to pick at him and allow yourself to get comfortable.

He couldn’t do…comfortable. But, this—this he could manage. It allowed for a clear divide between student and teacher. Professional and casual, even if he didn’t hand out his phone number to people so willingly.

“Um…yeah,” You nod slightly, mind filtering through the filthy thoughts of him over you, breathing a deep satiating desire for relief into your body, lips on your body, fingers buried deep inside of you, bringing you right near the precipice before you’re being ripped away from the glorious fantasy, “there’s a few, I guess.”

“Do you wanna share?” His eyebrows raise inquisitively, his hand disappearing off screen to bring a clear glass to his lips, half-filled with a dark brown liquid.

Tequila, maybe? Whiskey?

His lips curl around the edge of the and he sips, ice clanking inside of the glass as he awaits your response.

You shake your head hesitantly, smiling slightly, “I think the whole point is to surprise you, right?”

He chuckles softly, “I suppose.”

“Maybe…some vague advice, if you have any?”

Joel sets the glass against the desk a few inches off screen, thinking quietly. Eyebrows furrowing deep as he contemplates. Hard.

“Don’t hold back,” He starts, staring mindlessly off into the distance as he speaks, “be—be authentic and try not to limit yourself.”

“So, no sparing any details?” You ask teasingly and he smirks at your playful tone.

“Why would you do that?” He asks unknowingly of the thoughts on your mind, “You’re a beautiful writer, don’t discredit yourself.”

It tugs at something deep inside of you, a subtle frown forming on your face as you nod in response. “Thank you…”

“Hey,” There’s a gentle utterance of your name that has your eyes connecting fiercely across the screen, “I mean that.”

You’re silent, at a loss for words. It wasn’t for lack of knowing what to say, but how to say something—how to extend your appreciation. But, you figure that may translate better through writing, brewing over the idea in your head.

“Mr. Miller—“ Your mind lingers on unspoken words and thoughts, begging to be spoken, but the faint creak of a door in the background on his end has you both shooting to attention, a shared understanding as he scrambles slightly.

“If you run into any road blocks, just send me a message, okay?”

You nod, cut off by his sudden eagerness to end the call—feeling you just got caught doing something horrible, a shunning on the horizon.

You sleep that night with a fresh revelation on your mind, smothered by the feeling of special treatment that Mr. Miller was offering, wholly committed to your own delusion and it fuels and stokes that fire effortlessly. And the vivid scenes of your dream flow onto the page the following morning in perfect detail:

It starts off innocent, a bland tale of forbidden love or…something thereof, playing at the idea that this wasn’t supposed to be. Two parrying forces that yearn for the other but can’t find the courage to jump or take that leap—full of dread and hesitance and intensifying that idea.

Until, there’s a major implode of tension.

A sudden snap on the male character that resembles Joel so much it is unsettling, down to the subtle mannerisms as he takes in the characters appearance and words throughout, slowly describing yourself in a way that isn’t…obvious. But, it is heavily implied.

There’s a sudden confession of desire, not love, but a definite yearning that is mostly mutual, leading into a fantasy of filth. Debauchery personified in a way that feels inappropriate to write for a college assignment but is therapeutic for your mind.

His hands wander with a restrain that reads as worried—unsure of what the other character expects, but the moment your lips connect all bets are off, clothes rapidly disappearing amongst the confines of the male’s vaguely described quarters, laid over a flat surface. His bed or his desk, the detail is omitted, but he crowds dream you in and devours, capturing your mouth in another heated kiss, hands wasting no time as they slip over your cunt, beyond the sacred barrier of your underwear and inside of you like he’s done this a million times before.

In your mind, he had. But, that was beyond the point.

His fingers work you over expertly, your own hands wandering over his strong frame, biceps flexing underneath your touch as you describe a distinct feeling of stubble as he decends and you feel the texture against the inside of your thighs, underwear disappearing at some point you can’t remember before his mouth is latching into your cunt without hesitation, feeling the warmth of his mouth so vividly it almost startled you awake at the time, the distinctness of his voice echoing in your mind, biting your lip to stifle your desperate moans.

“Don’t hold back.” He echoes, a distinct line of dialogue that sticks out in your mind as you type it into the document, feeling your inside twist and clench at the fleeting memory of his voice.

You come against his mouth with a shout, fingers twisting into his horrible disheveled hair, just long enough that you can secure a good grip before you’re pulling him upright, tasting the slick of yourself on your tongue as you kiss him.

It’s all a dream, after all.

You take your own liberties, playing up the descriptions in a way that feels sinful, but you do it anyway. You finished the assignment in a few hours despite the ability to extend it over a few days, not bothering to wait as the idea was still fresh in your mind as you typed it out.

You don’t even hesitate to send the assignment once it is finished, fully confident in your abilities and Joel’s echoing encouragement.

It may have been the best thing you’ve ever written.

Joel is blissfully unaware of the debauchery awaiting him in his inbox, busying himself with the endless list of divorce attorneys in the state, wondering if he should really go through with this—ending his marriage, starting anew and cutting ties with Tess. He isn’t sure, really.

He isn’t positive about anything in his life anymore.

He sips gingerly at the steaming cup of coffee, his second of the night as he switches between his browser and a separate page of assignments he was concocting for the rest of the semester, specifically tailoring some around your own interests. He couldn’t explain why he was putting the effort in, why there was genuine concern—but he wanted you to succeed, if anything.

You don’t see him at first, he wasn’t hidden away in your usual spot, but he’s tucked away in a quiet corner near the back of the cafe, and you almost decide to ignore him and give him the space he seems like he craved, wondering if he had already read through your essay, but he nods at you subtly when he catches your gaze, a quick look up from his computer as you grabbed your coffee order from the barista.

Come here, he beckons silently.

You cross a single arm over your chest and press the lid of the cup to your lips and sip, gentle are careful steps progressing his way as you stop, hip pressing against the edge of the table. He looks at you, friendly and innocent, like he hadn’t offered up his phone number without precautions or asking, handing out the final line of connection that sealed the deal for you. This wasn’t just…help. It had to be more.

“J–Mr. Miller,” You catch yourself, finding his first name almost slipping from your lips, too close for comfort but he doesn’t seem to catch it, “reading through the assignments?”

You’re curious, but silently hoping he hasn’t crossed yours yet. Or, if he had, wondering if he was calling you over for that very reason—he wouldn’t express his thoughts in the coffee shop though, he couldn’t. If he lies, you can’t see through it.

“Uh, not yet, giving that a couple days,” He shakes his head, closing out of the browsers and shutting his laptop, “sit?”

He’s extending the invitation, hand gesturing toward the empty seat.

You bite back the smile that creeps on your face and take a seat, pulling at the sweater that covers your body, the cold chill creeping into the cafe as the bells to the entrance ring.

“Did you ever figure out what you were struggling with?” Joel asks curiously, still painfully in teacher mode, much to your dismay, “I didn’t hear from you, so…”

“Oh, um,” There’s an excited fluttering in your tummy, hesitant to debrief him on the details, but you nod, “yeah—just took a little bit of thought and the words started flowing.”

“Well, that’s good,” He offers politely, “I’m glad I could help—if…if I did.”

“Of course,” You smile more confidently, “You always do.”

If he only knew.

His eyebrows furrowing subconsciously, staring at his watch as the numbers creeped closer to midnight, his mind heavy with thought he wouldn’t speak out loud. So, you ask.

“Are you okay?” You utter softly, knowing it was the instance either of you have ever made the effort to ask—through countless meet-ups and secret conversation, feeling a need to keep it all hushed—it never occurred to you until you’re saying the words out loud. “You seem…irritated.”

Joel laughs bitterly, a soft chuckle that radiates in his chest. “Who isn’t?” He challenges, seeing the familiar look cross your own face, “Sorry—that’s—”

Joel looks away briefly, feeling that confiding you was a line he couldn’t cross, even though he’s blurred just about every other one in existence.

“I don’t mean to pry,” You shrug, “but I figure—it doesn’t hurt to ask?”

He’s withholding and you can see it, clock it in the way he checks his phone screen—a few missed calls and a text but you can’t read out anything other than the name. Tess.

Tess Miller. Got it.

“Did you get your assignment turned in then?” He asks curiously.

You nod shyly, twirling the cup slowly on the table, eyes drawn away from him despite how starkly he glared at you, hands cupped in his lap underneath the table. If you scooted closer your knees would knock together and you fight the urge to do so.

Joel notices the way you curl inward, a subconscious act that always denotes something simmering beneath the surface with you. He was used to your forwardness, your inability to respect personal space to a degree that…didn’t necessarily bother him in the way that it should. And he hates how his cock twitches at the sight of you glancing away, intimidated by his eye contact for once in the few months he’s gotten to know you.

There’s a creeping thought edging its way into his mind, an urge to force your wandering gaze on him, coax you into trusting him, wondering just how easy it would be for you to comply with his will, if it would take any fight on your part at all.

“Good, I’m excited to read it.” Joel replies honestly, a genuine smile finding its way onto his face, “I’m always lookin’ forward to what your mind thinks up.”

He may be asking for more than he bargains for with that.

“Well, I’ll see you on Monday then?” You confirm, feeling the need for a quick escape, things getting entirely too close for comfort, “Hopefully with a perfect score?”

Joel smirks knowingly, “Don’t get ahead of yourself now.” He teases.

Unfortunately, you were yards if not miles ahead.

Beyond saving.

And Joel had no idea.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedrostories #professor!joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #miller's girl

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buck-star · 1 month ago

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Welcome to my sweet, little library here on tumblr.

Let’s get a seat, maybe a drink and just look for whatever book you would love to read. Sit down and relax, let the fantasy and the fiction surround you and escape the reality for a while.

Blank blogs will be blocked. If you’re under 18 please do not interact with posts that involve smut or dark themes.

The secret little corner — my work

The other secret little corner — fic rec

The counter (food, drinks) — asks

Recent work:

— Bucky’s Babydoll | Bucky Barnes

— Housewife | Logan Howlett

— Flour-Revenge | Stucky

— Haunted House | Bucky Barnes

— He’s so daddy | Logan Howlett

You may know me as @buckys-wintersoldier.

#buck-star navigation #navigation

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exhuastedpigeon · 9 months ago

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Buddie Hiatus Fic Rec - month 9 Jan 16 - Feb 15

0-5k

might as well be drunk in love by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Teen | 2.3k Getting little-spooned by his drunk best friend was not on buck's maid-of-honour checklist, but. it's happening

She Said She’d Do It Again by Pansys_goth_gf / @pansysgothgf General | 2.8k Ana Flores runs into the 118 four years after her break up with Eddie. It turns out, a lot can change in four years.

hot cocoa by evcndiaz / @evcndiaz Teen | 3.1k Buck is freaking out about proposing. He gets an assist from Athena, Bobby, and. Well. Eddie himself.

our secret moments in a crowded room by heartbeatdiaz / @loserdiaz Explicit | 3.7k In which a new probie at the station has a crush on Buck, Eddie is… a little bit done with the guy, if he’s being honest. And Buck is having the time of his life.

like a cat in the rain by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 4.6k Sometimes, Buck forgets the lightning strike happened to Eddie, too.

things you shouldn’t say to me by coldbam / @coldbam Mature | 4.7k Eddie comes out, sleeps around, and Buck hears all about it.

5k-10k

finally found what i’ve been looking for by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Explicit | 5k buck's good at basketball, eddie's trying really hard not to commit an act of public indecency about it, and maybe, just maybe, a slightly bloody beachside pick-up game can be the start of something new

i am just a fool, but i have loved you all along by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 5.1k Buck asks Eddie on a date. Eddie spirals and makes a list about it. Everything works out in the end.

how to say what you mean by brownbananas (nickel710) Gen | 8.1k In which Eddie becomes a little obsessed with equipment maintenance and has a crisis of sexuality, and the two things are more related than he thought.

gonna make love to you for the rest of our lives by wikiangela / @wikiangela Explicit | 8.7k It's Buck and Eddie's wedding night, they're horny, in love, and obsessed with being husbands.

10k-20k

that green light, i want it by asteriasera / @asteriasera Mature | 11.1k Buck and Eddie hook up after Maddie and Chim’s wedding, then spend an inordinate amount of time not talking about what it means until the universe decides to intervene.

it's gravity after all by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do) / @lover-of-mine Teen | 11.7k Buck and Eddie get trapped in an elevator. What else can they do besides talk to each other?

and we are homeward bound by glorious_spoon / @glorious-spoon Explicit | 18.1k Buck and Eddie get around to telling the people they love that they're together.

Winter Prayer by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars General | 18.2k When a work conflict prevents Athena from accompanying Bobby to Minnesota for the ten year anniversary of his family dying, Buck and May offer to go instead. Over the course of the trip, they all learn more about each other, and Bobby faces his grief.

20k - 30k

let you set the pace by devirnis / @devirnis Explicit | 23.9k Eddie fucks Buck over a weekend.

30k +

A Minor Delay by rainbow_nerds / @rainbow-nerdss Mature | 43.6k Almost a year after the bridge collapse, a lot has changed. The team are scattered—Bobby and Athena on their Honeymoon, Hen on adoptive parent's leave, and Buck and Eddie... They may still work together, still have movie nights with Chris whenever they can, but things have changed. With Maddie and Chimney's wedding around the corner, Buck tries to make it perfect. And maybe, along the way, he might figure out why everything still feels... wrong.

The Cupid in Bel Air and His Thousand Kisses by Moonrose001 / @liptickyourway Explicit | 53.8k Eddie knew that when he and Christopher moved to LA, there would be a lot more deities than he was used to. What he did not expect was a Cupid that had it out for him, determined for Eddie to fall in love despite Eddie's repeated refusals, denials and threats. But Eddie needs a partner in the field and it seems like the winged weasel is the closest he is getting.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15) Month 4 (August 16 - September 15) Month 5 (September 16 - October 15) Month 6 (October 16 - November 15) Month 7 (November 16 - December 15) Month 8 (December 16 - January 15)

#buddie #buddie hiatus fic rec #911 #buddie rec list #rec list #TWO MORE SLEEPS UNTIL 911!!!#and one more list to go!

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buck-star · 26 days ago

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Raccoon hybrid and Stevie? Uh! I never read anything with a raccoon hybrid before but it sounds so cute! Sorry for the long reblog and commenting almost everything.😂😂

Something… is touching his ears.

It’s your pretty raccoon baby, Stevie! Your pretty raccoon hybrid baby!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

You were surprisingly easy to lure back to his quarters with only a jello cup and some yogurt in a tube.

Make me cry because of the sweetness… it’s oke.. it’s… I’m just feeling soft… it’s— urgh😭😭

“Steve, Steeveeee.” Your pupils shine an eerie yellow in the gloom of night and your wandering hands are almost spidery as they skitter across his naked pecs.

Make it even cuter… it’s oke…. If you hear someone crying… ITS ME! Because I can’t handle that fucking sweetness!😭😭 oh this is so adorable and cute and fluffy and sweet!

You paw at his face again, a thin blanket around you as you shiver, already halfway on the bed.

WHY CAN I IMAGINE THAT? WHY IS THAY SO CUTE? Urgh… I’m gonna melt… and cry… and melt again… and cry more. So thank you for the overloaded sweetness… I wasn’t ready for it but I love and adore it!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

“Hey, it’s ok. c’mere sweetheart.” With a scoop of his big arm, you’re on his bed, your plush limbs instantly curling around him in a satisfied squeeze.

AHHHHHHHH YES PLEASE! AHAHAHA THEY ARE THE SWEETEST AHSHDJCIENSNEN😭😭 I’m good… maybe not yet but it will be better. HOW CAN YOU WRITE SUCH SWEETNESS WITHOUT GETTING ARRESTED FOR IT?

“It's ok, you wanna kiss? Hmm?”

YES SHE WANT! Yes! DEFINITELY SHE WANTS THAT!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ and yes I will comment almost every paragraph because THIS CUTENESS! It’s like I bite into the sweetest cookie ever with the sweetest hot chocolate! Wrapped into a blanket in front of the fireplace while outside is a storm! YOU KNOW THAT KIND OF PERFECT IS WHAT YOU WROTE HERE!

Confidently, you press your lips against Steve's, squeaking at the sudden pressure of his hands, one around your neck holding you at the perfect angle, the other cupping your bottom, encouraging you to snuggle closer.

OH HES THE SWEETEST! They both are! LOOK AT THEN! LOOOOOKKKKK AT THEMMMMMMM🥺🥺

“More uhm Steve more?”

Stevie is addicting! His kisses are addicting! AND HE BETTER GIVES HIS SWEET LITTLE RACCOON HYBRID MORE OF IT!

Steve huffs. Your yelp at the sudden tug on your stripey tail almost breaks his heart, but he’s responsible for you now. “What do we say?” He gives your winter fluff another warning pull when you take too long to think, drawing out big fat tears that make your eyes sparkle.

DOM STEVIE! But also soft? Urgh! THIS IS SO SOFT AND FLUFF BUT HES A DOM AND ITS HOT! Even though he could be nicer instead off pulling her pretty tail! STEVE! Take care that she isn’t going to pull yours!😌😂 but it’s still so cute and I love that so so much!

“Good girl, what a good girl you are.” The praise slips out between messy smacks of your lips, the sound of you being all consumed by him. “I love you so much sweetheart.” He stifles your little squeals again, his own lips as red as berries. “I swear. Nothing bad will ever happen to you from now on.”

HER SAFE SPACE! He’s perfect! So perfect… so so so so….🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ oh and the love confession! YES HEHE. The way he gives her all the kisses if she asks nicely for, and the softness when she wants to cuddle.

It was so perfect and cute. Need this to be real, let’s all be his pretty raccoon hybrid!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️I imagine her as the sweetest raccoon hybrid ever and Stevie the perfect dom and man he can be. Taking such good care of the girl he loves hehe. He’s so soft and loving with her.🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ Mhm that was perfect, way too much sugar for a day without touching candies. New comfort fic unlocked! Thank you for writing such a masterpiece!🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🩷🩷

the berry sweetest

pairing: steve rogers x raccoon hybrid!reader

word count: 511

warning(s): chubby/plus-sized reader, no detailed description; mostly fluff and snuggles and kissies, hints of erotic situations; slight dehumanization and dom!Steve

author's note: forgive me, i know not what i did. only what i am, a soggy sad beast who yearns to be cuddled; based off of this text post i did earlier, will write more :))

Something… is touching his ears.

“... wazzat?” Steve’s no stranger to going from dead asleep to battle ready. It's never a bad thing to be vigilant against Hydra sneak attacks even if said Hydra agents are gently stroking him awake.

But it’s only you, the poor little raccoon hybrid he saw in the dumpsters during his morning jog. It was an easy decision, upstate New York is no place to be outside in the wintertime. You were surprisingly easy to lure back to his quarters with only a jello cup and some yogurt in a tube.

“Steve, Steeveeee.” Your pupils shine an eerie yellow in the gloom of night and your wandering hands are almost spidery as they skitter across his naked pecs.

Still, you’re the cutest softest thing he’s ever seen, fairly well-fed by the copious food waste the compound produced. Your lack of winter clothing had been worrisome, your only warmth coming from the soft drape of your tail around your body when he found you. You paw at his face again, a thin blanket around you as you shiver, already halfway on the bed.

“Hey, it’s ok. c’mere sweetheart.” With a scoop of his big arm, you’re on his bed, your plush limbs instantly curling around him in a satisfied squeeze. Steve laughs softly as you mewl and whimper little heem heems into his neck. “It's ok, you wanna kiss? Hmm?”

Kiss… you have the vaguest sense of the word, some fuzzy memories of two people in AI uniforms entangled on a bench in front of your temporary den, their mouths touching like they were exchanging food. Confidently, you press your lips against Steve's, squeaking at the sudden pressure of his hands, one around your neck holding you at the perfect angle, the other cupping your bottom, encouraging you to snuggle closer.

Yes! You like this, being very close means being warmer. And his hand is certainly warm, kneading your flesh in confident motions as you rock against him, moving in tandem with his lips to suckle your little tongue, drawing it into his mouth and releasing only when he can feel your chest strain for breath. You quiver, insatiable. “More uhm Steve more?”

“Puh-lease, snff please, Steve, kissies”

How could he deny you? Dizzy and debauched in his arms, mouth swollen from his enthusiasm, little ears twitching, uncertain of all these new sensations but still deliriously happy at your newfound safety.

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masterlist

#other secret little corner — fic recs

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