#Zoey skin

[my-fortnite-blog]

Reasons why I bought Tropical Punch Zoey Skin !

Opinion/Review

Reason N° 1: SISTAR Hyolyn´s outfit is like Zoey’s

I love K-POP, when I was younger and I started  listening to K-POP music, some day I found a girl group band called SISTAR (SISTAR was a South Korean girl group formed in 2010 by Starship Entertainment. The group consisted of Hyolyn, Bora, Soyou, and Dasom), I loved SISTAR so I became a big fan because their music, their super summery aesthetic and funny dances.

When SISTAR launched "Shake it" single I loved the song, well I loved everything, especially the outfits, they were so cool and funny.

When a k-pop group do a comeback they do a promotion on TV Shows, social media, etc, and they do a performance of their single, in this case, SISTAR sang and danced "Shake it" different days, in different TV shows, with different outfits, one of them is this!! That is wearing Hyolyn.

¡Razones por las que compré Tropical Punch Zoey Skin!

Razon N°1: El outfit de Zoey es muy parecido al de Hyolyn de SISTAR

ESP: ME encanta el K-POP, descubrí dicho genero cuando era mucho mas joven; entonces, un día, buscando nueva música encontré una un grupo de chicas llamado SISTAR (SISTAR Fue un cuarteto femenino surcoreano formado por Starship Entertainment en 2010. Las integrantes del grupo fueron: Bora, Hyolyn, Soyou y Dasom). Me gusto tanto el grupo, que me volví una fiel Fan debido a sus canciones, su estética super veraniega y sus divertidas coreografías.

Un día, cuando SISTAR lanzo su nuevo single "Shake it" en 2015, simplemente ame la camión y sigue siendo hasta el momento una de mis canciones favoritas de toda la vida. Es que me encanto TODO, pero aquí solo voy a resaltar los outfits.

Permítame explicarles, para los que no lo saben, cuando un grupo de K-POP hace un "Comeback" la mayoría de las veces, hacen promoción en shows de televisión coreana, Social Media, entre otras cosas, y hacen presentaciones de su "single" en dichas plataformas, en este caso en especifico SISTAR canto y bailo "Shake It" en diferentes shows en diferentes días, con diferentes outfits. Uno de ellos es este que esta usando HYOLYN.

ENG: If you notice, She is wearing high-heeled shoes with socks like Zoey tropical punch, the shorts have a similar cut style, even she wears another short underneath. The high-heeled shoes are, in fact, very similar; besides Zoey's shirt looks like a combination of SISTAR's shirts, obviously the colors are different, of course, but the cut and styles are very similar.

I'm not saying the outfit is a copy, I'm just explaining why Zoey's outfit reminds me of SISTAR's aesthetic and I LOVE THAT !

ESP: Si observamos bien, ella esta usando zapatos de tacón con calcetas largas, de la misma forma que Zoey ponche tropical, solo que con diferentes colores, los shorts también tienen un estilo similar, pues el corte parece ser el mismo, además de usar un short debajo de otro. Es un hecho que el estilo de los zapatos es también demasiado similar; además de que la camiseta de Zoey parece una combinación de los cortes que usan las chicas de SISTAR, pero el corte y estilo son bastante similares.

NO estoy diciendo que el outfit es una copia, solo estoy explicando porque el outfit de la skin de Zoey me recuerda a la estética de SISTAR y ciertamente eso me encanta.

Reason N° 2: Her color palette

In her clothes we can see a metallic color and texture like the candy wrapper, Let's remember that the concept of the original zoey is related to sweets, so point!

All the colors in her hair remind me of the ones used in watermelon-flavored candies. Here we have another point!

And all the colors of the outfit can easily be related to fruits such as: strawberry, cucumber, watermelon, kiwi, lemon, among other tropical fruits

Razón N° 2: La paleta de colores

En su ropa podemos encontrar un color metálico con textura similar a las envolturas de algunos caramelos, recordemos que el concepto original de Zoey esta relacionado con los dulces, así que... ¡PUNTO!

Todos los colores de su cabello me recuerdan a los que se usan en los dulces con sabor a sandía. ¡Aquí tenemos otro punto!

Además, todos los colores del outfit pueden fácilmente relacionarse con varias frutas, como: la fresa, pepino, sandia, kiwi, limón, entre otras frutas tropicales.

Reason N° 3: All attention to detail

We can see all the love and attention to detail in a single glance, Zoey Tropical Ponch is not only a redesign of the original Zoey, it changes and reinvents everything that she was from the beginning without losing her essence.

We have candies on her clothes, for example on her glove, hair and belt, a striking color palette that reminiscent of refreshing fruits; In addition, we having very good movement physics in her hair and belt.

It was certainly made with a lot of dedication and you can see the very good quality within the gameplay.

Razón N° 3: Toda la atención al detalle.

Podemos ver todo el amor y la atención al detalle en una simple mirada, Zoey Ponche Tropical no es simplemente un rediseño de la Zoey original, dicho rediseño cambia y reinventa todo lo que era desde el inicio sin perder su esencia.

Tenemos dulces en su ropa, por ejemplo, en su guante, cabello, cinturón, una llamativa paleta de colores que recuerdan a frutas refrescantes; además, contamos con buenas físicas de movimiento en su cabello y cinturón.

Ciertamente fue hecha con mucha dedicación y se puede ver la buena calidad dentro de la jugabilidad.

Reason N° 4: The bubbles of gum in her hair

I have to mention how I absolutely fell in love at first sight when I see that bubbles on her hair. it was a creative and beautiful detail.

I don't know how to explain it well, but I'll try, if you imagine it, the bubbles in her hair can be many things, example: 1) it can be bubble gum 2) They also look like pink sea bubbles that got stuck in her hairstyle 3) or a kind of plastic to protect her hairstyle from the water.

Razón N° 4: Las burbujas de chicle en su peinado

Tengo que mencionar como me enamore a primera vista cuando vi las burbujas en su cabello, pensé "¡que creativo y bonito detalle!"

No sé cómo explicarlo bien, pero lo intentaré, si te lo imaginas, las burbujas en su cabello pueden ser muchas cosas, ejemplo: 1) puede ser chicle 2) También parecen burbujas de mar rosas que se le quedaron pegadas en el peinado. 3) o una especie de plástico para proteger su peinado del agua.

Credits to whom it corresponds for the last image used for illustrative purposes.

Thanks for reading me and support my content !!

The English isn't my native language, if I write something wrong, please leave me a comment, that would help me a lot because I'm still learning. Thanks for your help.

[crimewizards]

how im taking the dawnlight news

[glistering-melon]

(dawnlight) zoeya kins gideon the ninth send post

[overwatchfanskinarchive]

Fancy Venture by Zoey C/zoeyecrow (artstation/instagram)

[bjorksversionsworld]

moonchild

still lives in my heart

can i ask you something

is your life better now

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

If you're still drawing Aphmau self inserts. I present

Kai the Grim!

I'm genuinely sorry I don't have any better references. And that the last one is from a gacha game.

She's a shadow knight, and the other girl with the white poof is my version of Zoe :]

I absolutely AM still drawing self inserts!!!

Don't worry, these references are PERFECT, and the Gacha one helps a lot!!

A Shadow Knight, truly brings a tear of happiness to my eye. I love when self inserts are OP and suer cool like this.

You are number THREE ✌️☝️ On the list!!!! Hehe X3

[shizzleytb]

SPIRIT BLOSSOM ZOE - League of Legends Skin

[sillysiluriforme]

Planes pass by overhead in a milky tea green sky direction Charle de gaul airport.

She hasn’t been grounded for this long in 4 years now, not since the hospital. She tries to think about Zoey and her grubby little hands. The way she looks up at her. Her babbling.

It’s all futile, her third sex-on-the beach has rendered her brain mushy and uncooperative. She used to hate being drunk. She still does, so it’s particularly perplexing she finds herself inebriated so often.

A pair of perfect manicured fingernails grazes her shoulder.

“Audreeeeeey…” comes Emilie’s pitch perfect practiced whine.

“I’m talking to you !” She ends her sentence on a higher note, indicating playfulness. Her bronze skin, dusted with crystals of pool droplets, sparkles in the light of the terrace- curtsy of her fresh perfect tan.

She furrows her brows through Audrey’s sunglasses. The green of her eyes is exacerbated, almost comical. Like the warning label on a bottle of helium.

“Whaddidyasay ?” The slurred words slither out of her mouth like drool. Why do people even drink ?

She puffs up her cheek and readjusts her hold on the sleeping toddler in her arms clover- Chloe. Chloe, after her mother in law- not that she’d ever met her- Some gold digging cover girl with a strong stomach and very little shame, from what she gathered.

Maybe that’s what her Andre wants for her at the end of the day. A well-to-do husband, some kids, a big house and as little shame as possible… he’s boring like that.

“ Here I was getting sentimental and you just ignore me, how could you be so cruel ?”

Chloe doesn’t stir in her arms, somehow, despite the brat normally sleeping as sleep as light as a feather. The mass of perfect honey colored curls go up and down as she photogenically lays her restful little head on Emilie’s chest. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose.

Audrey, working at half the speed she usually would, languidly blinks at her. No point in playing her verbal games. Emilie always wins.

She sighs with all the gusto of a mistress of the silver screen and repeats herself.

“I was saying I used to wish I had met you younger.”

“…” the congealed remains of her mostly-fruit-juice-cocktails have seeped into the crevices of her synapses, the coughing machine chugs along. “Why ?” She says flatly, without too much interest.

“I didn’t know you actually had curly hair till the day we all moved out, did I ever tell you that ?”

Audrey goes to push her sunglasses up her forehead almost pokes herself in the eye.

“What did you think I was doing when I woke up earlier than you everyday?”

The perfect hand lurches like a snake to grasp her arm, like otherwise she’d run off and miss hearing her out. “You’re missing the point.” Audrey’s eyes roll in their sockets from the snake to the grass-green eyes.

“You wouldn’t let me in, ever, not of your own will.” Her mouth curves down and her brows curve up. “It… hurt me.” Her voice wobbles in a controlled manner not unlike a prop laminated metal sheet. “My first friend- my best friend, trapping me at arm’s length… so during lectures I’d try to imagine you,”

“And me…” and there’s something she manages to catch for an instant. Something soft and fidgety held in her gaze. “As schoolgirls- sometimes even younger, already friends, shared secrets and make believe memories.”

And with a sharp snap it’s gone, cold and still forever. Emilie’s gaze rises past Audrey, as it often does when she goes on a tangent. Her fingers tangle in the little girl’s curls.

“I missed you, you know. It’s not the same without you here. Im so happy you’re home now.” Glossy pink lips plucker into a heart shaped smile. The perfect snake coils through perfect yellow swirls to unearth Chloe’s sun kissed forehead before planting her lips on the unmarked surface. The glittering pink stain stands alone like a flagpole in no man’s land.

Audrey’s foot catches the leg of her deckchair and narrowly misses eating shit on the sharp white tiles when she stands up. Emilie still reaches out like it’d help in any way.

“I want another glass.”

[starhvney]

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mcd garroth x reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: everyone was back in the village, except for garroth. his absence haunts you everywhere except for in your dreams.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: angst, reuniting, hurt/comfort, love confessions

𝐂𝐖: none? mentions of garroth’s injuries

𝐀/𝐍: rah rah mcd angst

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

it’s been a week.

a week since you and everyone escaped the irene dimension.

everyone but garroth.

you remember the look he gave you. the guilt, the resolve, the anguish. guilt for being weak enough to succumb to the mind control and manipulation that put you all in this jeopardizing situation. resolve to amend his mistakes by condemning himself to stay in this hell falsely veiled as heaven. anguish that he couldn’t properly say goodbye. it was only seconds after the portal opened that laurance was carrying you through kicking and screaming for another way that it had closed once again.

you’d begged zoey to open it again, both of you barely able to stand on your own with your energy drained and spirits depleted. but you knew it couldn’t be done.

now, seven days later, you lay in your bed, staring at the dilapidated and dark ceiling above you. not that you had any room to complain. your house was nothing but shambles after fifteen years, so the fact that levin even provided you with any sort of housing for free was generous. it seems providing you with your own bed was useless, though, when you couldn’t even sleep in it. it by no means was because you were energized–you were in fact exhausted beyond belief. rather it was because every time you closed your eyes, your mind kept replaying that moment. 

over and over and over and over again.

you’re not sure when you managed to finally fall asleep, but when you open your eyes again under a large tree instead of a cracked wooden ceiling, it takes only a moment to realize you haven’t truly woken yet. everything about it was so vivid, though. you could hear the leaves in the tree ahead rustle in the breeze,. feel the soft grass beneath your fingertips. smell the sweet scent of the flowers that bloomed from the ground. everything else beyond the hill this singular tree was on dissipated into a strange haze you couldn’t make out, like when exhaustion blends your peripheral vision with the regular into a strange blur. 

lifting yourself up to stand, you take a look around at the peaceful scene when a soft groan of pain sounds from behind you. when you turn back to the tree, you nearly jolt yourself awake into your physical body at the sight of the man leaning against it.

him.

it was him.

that pale golden hair, the usual soft waves mussed and sticking to his forehead. his face was pale and a large cut marred the skin near his jaw, his eyebrows pulled together and eyes shut from pain. slowly his eyelids crack open when his ears seem to catch your gasp, blue irises meeting yours a moment later. you can’t hear anything but your own hitched breaths for the few moments you both stare at the other, watching as the head guard’s eyes haze over in a vulnerable emotion you hadn’t seen from him before.

the sudden clinking of his armor barely alerts you that he’s moving before he’s suddenly right in front of you, large hands grasping onto you desperately and pulling you into his chest. shaky breaths brushed against your hair and over your skin, rough gloves squeezing your skin like he was sure you’d dissipate in front of his eyes if he loosened his grip any further. he pulls back, and you only briefly see the beautiful shade of deep cerulean in his eyes before his gloved hands slide up from your arms to the sides of your face and his lips clash against yours.

it feels so real. his cool armor against your skin and the firm grip of his hand on the back of your head as he tilts your head back to mold his slightly chapped lips with yours. it’s desperate, the way his fingers thread through your hair–it’s like he was hoping he could pull you closer than you already were. 

he doesn’t pull away until you both have no more air left in your lungs, and with incredible reluctance he barely pulls back, your lips brushing against his.

“i wish you were real.” he rasps, pressing his forehead against you with a groan. “if only you were real.”

your eyebrows pinch together. you’d say the same, but you’ve never had a dream where the other people in it were aware. and this all felt so vivid.

was it possible to be brought together with the one you love in your dreams?

you want to speak, say something, but you’re too overwhelmed by it all to do anything but whisper out his name.

“if i’ve died and this is my afterlife, i’d gladly spend the rest of eternity here.” he pulls away, rough thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his eyes dart across your face—committing every curve and detail to his memory. “maybe this is my mind’s last way of giving me peace before i’m killed.”

“what?” your eyes widen at the ramblings coming from the reserved guard’s lips. “garroth… is this—?”

“i love you. even if this is a delusion, at least i can feel like i told you once before i’m gone.” he gulps back a lump in his throat, eyes misted over. “i love you so much it hurts. i’m so sorry i’ve let you down. the fact i was so weak to ever risk your life like that is enough for me to realize this is the fate i deserve.”

you begin shaking your head, breaths short and quick.

it is him. somehow. someway. this was real.

“garroth. i don’t know where we are or how this is happening, but you can’t die. please promise me you’ll live until we can find a way to get you.”

his lips pull tight in confusion before shakily murmuring your name.

emotions bubble forward from your chest, crowding your throat as tears involuntarily pool in your eyes. “if somehow this is real, please don’t give up. you can apologize when we reunite. don’t let zane win this way.”

“i… i won’t, but how…”

“i love you, garroth.”

“i love you.” he says through a pained exhale, like the words were coming out of his last breath before his lungs collapsed in grief. “i promise you i’ll come back to you. i swear it to you.”

his fingers brush away the teardrops from under your eyes as a quiet cry leaves your lips, his expression pained. it was like each of your tears were a stab wound into his chest, your trembling lips a twist in the handle. the peaceful silence of the dream is interrupted by the loud ringing of what sounded like church bells in the distance. it echoed and shook the air around you, sending everything into a white haze.

no, were you waking up?

“please don’t give up.” you repeat, somehow unable to find any other words despite having so little time left. “i love you.”

you hear another hoarse “i love you” from his lips, before his features fade away into a blindingly white haze and then disappear into the darkness. the next moment you’re back in phoenix drop, staring up at the warped ceiling. the only thing reassuring you from letting the empty pit in your chest from swallowing you whole was his voice, the deep timbre still ringing in your head.

“i’ll come back to you”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique

[beau-bunny]

gimme an Aphmau that flirts. gimme an Aphmau that gets Zoey, Garroth, Aaron and even Laurance (when you catch him off guard) flustered. gimme an Aphmau whose the boss. gimme an Aphmau whose witnessed the horrors. give me an Aphmau that’s learned to mature and live in the horrors, who wipes the blood off her lips with her thumb. give me an Aphmau whose not afraid to stab you through the heart when you went a little too far. give me an Irene that invokes eldritch horror in me, give me an Irene whose a little too comfortable with killing for good and just reasons, and Aphmau has to stop herself from going too far. give me an Aphmau soaked in blood, being brought back to earth by Laurance holding her tight. give me an Aphmau who makes shitty puns and jokes and keels over laughing at them. give me an Aphmau who winks at you. give me an Aphmau whose not afraid to cause mischief and chaos (especially in mystreet). give me an Aphmau who gives her boys stone cold orders, and they follow through without hesitation like the good bloodhounds they are.

give me an Ava who loves to party late into the night. give me an Ava whose drunk off her ass and making horrible decisions. give me an Ava whose not afraid to be a bitch and tell it to your face. give me an Aphmau that radiates matriarch energy, who can be serious and stern enough to tell you to cut the shit and everyone listens to her. give me an Aphmau whose in charge. give me an Ava who leashes her boys and takes them out on walks. give me an Ava whose in control, whose in charge of everything going on in her life, and though she may be self-destructive and watching her life fall apart, she’s the one who chose to let it burn.

give me an Aphmau who went through hell and came out stronger because of it. give me an Ava that would take the throne in a heartbeat. give me an Aphmau and an Ava with a lotta love to give and they’ll happily let anyone into their lives, because everyone’s lapping at her feet and wants a taste. everyone wants a bite of her, so she ends up with a whole pack of dogs that’ll do anything she asks them to. give me an Aphmau that embraces that and feels confident in her own skin and loves each and every one of her partners and loves her life and don’t you dare fuck with her, or else the whole packs gonna go for your throat.

give me an Aphmau who radiates happiness and joy and love and kindness, who takes in everyone and anyone, who is the mother to all, who will forgive the unforgivable and turn the devil’s darkest soldier into someone totally and wholly devoted to her. give me an Aphmau surrounded by devotion, undying loyalty, trust, never-ending love. a family that she built from scratch with her bare hands. the gods won’t love you, but she will. she’ll become your new god. gimme an Aphmau that would make a high priest tremble. everyone loves her, do they not? don’t you want a taste too? she’s entrancing. you want to do what she says. she’ll give you a home, she’ll give you love, she’ll build heaven and allow you to live in it.

she’s Aphrodite. she is Hera. she is Persephone. she is Athena.

give me an Aphmau who is power incarnate.

[undercovercameron]

stamina

summary: you have a tiny bit of an issue that can only be resolved through intercourse. no, really.

notes: hello everybody i have returned after a month and a half and this one just simply popped into my head today! i would say i have no idea why but ive been watching clips of the other zoey on tiktok and they’ve corrupted me… cabin in the woods with drew starkey? till the walls crumble. features: choking kink, explicit language, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, and generally rough sex. enjoy my darlings

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2859

You don’t know exactly when it started, but your little problem had become a real nuisance.

You just know the first time it happened, however long ago, made Rafe Cameron finally fall in love with you. Hey, it took months of him fighting with himself about you and struggling with a multitude of other family issues, but the day did finally come. It was glorious, you remember that. But this long repeated issue was kind of impeding your sex life. Well, it was affecting your sex life that actually had been affecting your sleep and caffeine and food patterns. It was a big ole circle. You even had been feeling faint due to the excessive cardio.

The issue wasn’t as much an issue as it was one of Rafe’s favorite things about you, turns out. And he wasn’t afraid to show it. Well, make you show it.

You two had dozed on the couch for a little more than an hour, your head pressed to his shoulder and your body curled around the side of his. He had an arm caging you to him, fingers splayed across the curve of your abdomen. Turns out, some documentary his younger sister recommended wasn’t as interesting as you two thought.

The TV makes a loud beeping noise, and Rafe jerks awake at the intrusion. His hand not pressed to your (now exposed) stomach rubs at his eyes, blinking rapidly. Christ. It’s late.

The fire beneath your TV crackles, and he can feel the slight warmth from it on his cheeks.

This was his Aunt Meredith’s house, and she was letting the two of you stay in it for a little while as a makeshift fall break. You’d slept three nights so far in this big wooden mansion, but you could hardly say you felt rested. You always were taking futile catch-up naps throughout the day in front of this lovely fireplace.

Rafe’s movement makes you phase into consciousness, eyes coming into focus as your ears adjust too.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, stretching both his hands up above his head. The hem of his shirt lifts, just a little taste. You blink at him. “What?” His face splits into a grin and his eyes close as his muscles flex and relax.

“You know what.” Your lips twitch and you look teasingly up at him.

“Mm, I don’t think I know what you mean.” His hand brushes the hair from the side of your face not facing him, and he pulls away slightly to thumb at your chin. “Could you explain?”

“No,” you sigh, pulling yourself up slightly with a hand pressed to the seat cushions. Your leg curls once again around one of his as you turn towards him. You relax against the back cushions, eyes on his face. “No.” Your eyebrows raise, challenging.

“I don’t think you want me to have to make you explain,” he mutters, sliding down to a little above your eye level. His eyes stay on yours.

“I don’t think you could if you wanted to.” Your eyes snap back to the TV, pulling your legs away from his. “I’m trying to watch this.” You grab the remote from the ottoman and turn it up. Rafe just watches you earnestly.

You're about sixty long seconds into “watching the documentary” with your feet up until you feel Rafe’s breath on you. His lips meet your forehead, ghosting a kiss to your skin, before sliding down to your temple. You try your best to remain focused. But his opposite hand from you (always his hand) slides up your waist to settle near your collarbone, fingers lightly pressing into your shoulder. His lips migrate to your jaw, and then your neck. You fight a shiver.

You feel yourself tilting your head around to satisfy this position, eyes falling closed briefly before snapping back open. You grip his wrist.

“Rafe,” you say, but what you thought was confident just sounds weak.

He hums, mouth pressing to your neck and getting into dangerous hickey territory, and your eyes just close. It feels so good, this man leaving you breathless and pliant. It makes you so weak.

“You know you want to,” Rafe murmurs, eyes moving up to your face, and he relishes in your intake of breath.

Your fingers find his jaw and cheek and you pull his mouth up to yours, finally kissing him like you need. He makes a noise into your mouth, triumphant, and his hands grip your hips tightly. He moves you, sliding you onto the long part of the L sofa, and follows you with his forehead pressed to yours and his lips so close but so far. You pant up into him.

He slides further between your legs, parting them with a hand behind your knee, and you let out a content sigh when you feel the weight of him. The weight of that.

His hand finds your throat and then he’s leaning over you, hips pressed to yours and kissing away your sounds softly. His hips rock forward into where the seam of your sweatpants is, and your moan is swallowed. You grip tight on the hand on your neck, squeezing your eyes tight. It shouldn’t feel this good, this quick.

You cant your hips up into his, sloppily matching his rhythm, and your cheeks flush when your heart beats heavily in your throat. His mouth parts from yours and slides wetly down to your upper chest, the neck of your slightly cropped sweatshirt pushed away. You just gasp above him, hips picking up. The slide of his pants is so perfect on your clit, and you feel your blood pumps at the place he squeezes you around your middle.

You recognize what he’s doing, now. His fingers press into your abdomen, pushing it up and down and up and down, and you push your hand on top of your mouth to muffle the embarrassing cries you’re letting out.

His head raises from your collarbone, lips wet and pink, and he tugs your wrist down.

“I need to hear you, baby.” And then he’s pulling back to shove your sweatpants off of you and to the floor between the couch and the ottoman. He dips back down, mouth and hand insistent upon you, and he digs a hand into the crotch of your underwear. Your hands flail for a moment, useless, and settle on gripping his shoulder and the arm that pins you to the cushions.

“Rafe,” you sputter, head pushing hard back against the cushions. Your hair is messy and probably tangled with this friction, but you don’t have even half a thought to care. “Please, Rafe, don’t stop.” Your back arches, trying to push your body tight against his. He tries not to grin above you, watching your face contort at his touch. His fingers slide in your slickness, an embarrassing amount, and your throat catches a breath. The tension in your abdomen twists.

“I thought you wanted to watch the show, sweetheart.” Two of his fingertips push past your slit easily and curl. He bites his lip above you, loving the look on your face. You squeeze your eyes even harder, fist clenching in his shirt. Your heart beats louder and louder until—

“And we’re going to practice your stamina, too.” His voice is raspy when he pulls away.

There it is. The issue. Your not-so-issue-but-sorta-an-issue issue. Yes. You had been having trouble—well, stopping. Your libido was extremely high, you had a very sexy man at your disposal who liked to please you, you were confident in your body, so why not?

Why not is because your body was sore constantly. Between your legs was the perfect amount of sore, but still sore. You had trouble sleeping and drank more coffee and energy drinks. Rafe, ever the giver, obliged you always. He liked to fuck. He really liked to fuck you. So it was a terrible, terrible cycle. You were really starting to wonder about your self control. So it makes sense that maybe you should consider working on it.

But Rafe deciding that right now? The second he finally fingers you? It makes your head spin.

Literally, as when you sit up your vision is flooded with spots.

“What the fuck?” You croak, sounding miserable, and your eyes look up at him, almost teary. (Hey— you really like what he does to you.)

“You’re fine, baby, you’re fine. I just want what’s best for you.” He pulls away from your neck, instead smoothing a hand from your sternum to your hips.

“What are you, a fucking counselor?” You grump, eyebrows furrowed, and he just rolls his eyes.

“Better start being grateful, Y/N. You know how I get.”

He settles onto his stomach, keeping your legs loose around him as he bends to kiss you. You kiss back, still annoyed but also still wildly turned on, and you can’t help but curl a hand around his neck and up into his hair. His lips part from yours and start their trek downwards.

His hands push your sweatshirt up when he gets to right above your belly button, and his touch is light on your sensitive skin. You close your eyes in the nice feeling.

His fingers curl around where your thigh meets your ass, pressing tight into the muscle, and you reflexively lift them up and settle them down onto his shoulders. Sneaky. His mouth finds your inner thighs then, biting into the flesh, and you successfully fight a shiver. His breath is hot on the crotch of your panties.

His fingers find the hem of the fabric, eyes settling briefly on yours before tugging your panties to the side and getting his mouth on you.

You immediately moan— figures. You push your head up slightly, wanting to see, and his head shakes between your legs, hair tickling your thighs as you whine. So hot it should be illegal.

One of Rafe’s hands crawls up your flesh to your chest, fingers finding the underside of your tit and cupping it. He squeezes right as his tongue curls into your seam and he shakes his head again. You nearly shriek but slap.a hand over your mouth, no punishment in your future with his hand on your tit and the other gripping your outer thigh.

Well, you were wrong for the second time tonight. First, thinking your loving boyfriend would give you an orgasm when you wanted one, and second when you assume the same very boyfriend wouldn’t do things simply to piss you off or edge you. Rafe reaches up with the hand previously on your thigh and grabs your wrist. He snags the other one and presses them tight against your lower abdomen, eyes fiery. Your blood surges hot in your veins and the tension in your abdomen resurfaces.

You just flex your legs and bring them further up, wanting your seemingly increasingly distant misery to end.

He hums in approval at that, the feeling making your pelvis vibrate; and you try desperately to suck in a breath. It feels so good, you don’t know how to last longer. Your head slowly tilts to the side, a little tired, and your glazed eyes meet the TV screen again.

Your third folly. Thinking Rafe Cameron would let you live any mistake down.

“Oh, you wanna watch it now?” He pulls away, spitting at your pussy, and an eyebrow quirks. You just still, not sure of the direction here. “Okay. Watch it.” He licks you once, twice, and pulls away slowly. You turn your head, wanting to gauge his reaction, but he pushes your head back towards the TV with his hand. You see in your peripheral him pushing down the waistband of his pants. Your eyes flinch ever so slightly towards him, and he smacks lightly at your outer thigh.

“Watch it, since you wanted to so bad.” He pulls his dick out from his underwear and spits into his hand. His gaze is locked on your pink face, waiting for you to react. He moves his hand tantalizingly slowly, knowing you can see the movement. You pant, catching your breath, and he just watches your chest heave.

His heart rate catches when he gets the full sight of you, open and wide in front of him with dirty panties and your sweatshirt rucked up to expose your bare chest. It makes him even harder.

“What are they talking about right now?” His eyes bore into the side of your face, hand moving steadily still.

“Uh-h, whales.” Your voice cracks and you swallow. He doesn’t laugh like you think he will, he just bends down and kisses the corner of your mouth.

“Doing so good.” It’s so quiet you think you miss it. He kisses you full on when you tilt up to him, neck straining at the angle.

He finally, finally pushes his weight onto you, dick pressed tight against your pelvis. You meet his mouth again and groan at the feeling, moving your body in a way you hope feels good. His jaw clenches, which is a good sign.

“You do it, you want it so bad,” he murmurs, lips hovering over your cheek bone. “Since you can’t ever have enough, baby.”

You exhale through your nose, concentrating, and push your hand down. You fumble for a second but eventually get your hips angled in a way to where he can sink into you. He does, pushing against your hips, and slides easily all the way to the hilt.

He groans openly, eyes closed for a moment, and you choke on a moan. So deep, so fast that it steals the breath from your throat.

On second thought, Rafe’s hand finds its place on your throat as the other braces against your hip.

“So wet,” he says through his apparent awe, bottom lip drooping slightly. You revel in the look on his face. He’s all pink and dewy, it makes you sweat. He pushes forward, a bruising strength in his hips, and you feel yourself be pushed up an inch on the couch.

He follows you and lowers himself slightly, keeping you in place as he jerks sloppily into you, overwhelmed by sensation. You curl your leg around his waist, fingers interwoven in his hair as he dips to kiss you. He pants into your mouth, hot and demanding. You just arch your back, feeling him squeeze hard at the flesh of your waist as you clench around him.

You do it again, loving the reaction, and bite your lip as he chokes slightly in surprise. His hips slow, the sounds of your hurried panting slowing as well, but he goes twice as hard. With the intent to bruise, you think. Probably. He would love that.

His eyebrow arches slightly before he’s burying his face in your neck and really giving you his all. You feel the muscles flex on his back where you press your hands, mouth open and wide and silent. Your eyes roll back into your head as he lets go of your neck and fixes his grasp on your hip.

“Rafe,” you gasp, barely getting a comprehensible sound out. “Yes, shit, baby.” Your man, finally treating you so well.

“Let me hear you,” he says, hot in your ear, and reaches down to rub that one spot he’s memorized the location of. He’s a little too familiar, as we know.

You inhale and exhale shakily, and then you’re silent and your head is pushing back into the cushions. Your body floods with feeling, from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. Your toes curl. You feel like you’re floating.

It’s on the come down that you moan shakily and it turns into a bashful laugh.

“Fuck,” you whine, and his thrust turns into his last as he buries himself up to the hilt and groans in a staccato. You feel him catch your shoulder slightly as he bites the cushion, muscles slowing.

“Fuck.” He desperately tries to catch his breath. He peels himself slightly from you, sitting up.

His vision comes back into focus, and it’s then that he notices the marks on your neck. He thumbs an especially red one, eyes scanning your face.

“Oops.”

“You’re an idiot.” But you smile.

“Hey, we traded,” he says, pulling away completely from you and standing up with a stumble. He winces as he pushes his shoulder blades to meet.

“How’s that?” You ask, thinking you’re humoring him. You sit up, bringing your now cold and damp panties back to where they should lie and pulling your shirt down. You’re just realizing how cold it is in here.

“My back hurts like a bitch, and you have hickeys. Plus I didn’t let you cum so we practiced that. Boom.” He gestures wildly and lets his hands smack back down to his sides. You just stare at him.

“You are the weirdest motivational coach I’ve ever met, young man.”

“Don’t call me a young man.” He turns towards the primary bedroom you’d been sleeping in and disappears into the darkness. “I fuck like I’m 35.”

[spookystrawberrystarlet]

Hi! I’ve never made a post on here before so please forgive any weird formatting or clumsy writing (be gentle with me, I’m sensitive haha😅)

• Nice to meet you, you can call me Zoey! (not my real name, of course) 💕

• I’m a 22 year old who’s looking to make new friends (minors dni!) and to talk to new people/find a sense of community on here (cause real life sucks sometimes)

• I like to crochet, play video games (Bg3, fnaf, dav, dbh, little nightmares, sally face- just to name a few), cosplay, and do makeup!

• I also LOVE horror movies (The Thing is one of my favorites!), coffee, opal, bats, dolls (especially monster high and lalaloopsy), cryptids, Skins UK gen 1, the color black, deep sea isopods, Scott Radke, autumn, renaissance fairs, liminal spaces, underwater animatronics, calceolaria, Jack Stauber, thrift stores, rpdr, Boulet Brothers’ Dragula, analog horror, and junk journaling :)

• I’m currently recovering from EDs (both ana and mia) while also recovering from self harm (just recently threw away my bl4des, and am working on healing my scars!), so it would be nice to connect with other people who are also in recovery!

• I’m also a kissless, hopeless romantic who loves older men and other alternative people, so it’d be neat to connect with anyone that relates to either of those lol

• I think that covers the basics! Let me know if you have any advice for people like me that are new to posting or if you just want to say hi, feel free to message me!

🖤

[zoeykallus]

Hello Zoey

First , I wanted to tell you again that I love the stories you gave us , thank you , really , you're one of the few who can make me forget time when I'm reading 👌❤️

It's my first request so I'm sorry if it's a bit clumsy 😅

I had an idea , imagine that after a mission the reader is so tired that they took the first bunk they saw but it's not their's , how would the batchers react ? x)

Aloha!

Very happy to read this! 😊 Thank you so much!

There is a first time for everything. Don't worry, there is nothing clumsy about it. I think I got it. So pre Relationship, but with already growing yet unspoken feelings? At least that would be my guess. Let me see, this could be fun 😁🤭

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - Sleepy Mix-Ups

__________

Warnings: None I guess/SFW/Fluff

__________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

__________

Hunter

He almost threw his equipment at you. At the last moment, he sees you lying in his bunk and just manages to stop himself. Hunter is puzzled, raises his eyebrows questioningly and looks at you for a moment. A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. You look kind of cute lying there in his bunk. He sighs softly and looks around, his gaze falling on your actual bunk. He walks towards it, takes off his equipment, and even before he lies down in it, he smells it. The bedding and the pillow smell of your shampoo, your perfume, of you. A strange, warm shiver runs through his entire body. Hunter looks back over his shoulder to his own bunk, where you are slumbering blissfully. He knows the scent of you will keep him awake for a while, make him woozy. He feels a tingling restlessness under his skin, a silent longing for more of what reaches his nose, more of you. Hunter lies down anyway, the other bunks are occupied, and he doesn't want to wake you. He lies awake half the night and dreams of you await him in his sleep, some gentle, some wild. When he wakes up, his heart is beating fast, his pulse racing as if he has just experienced a pleasantly exciting adventure.

He grins a little stupidly to himself and flinches when he hears your voice. "Sorry, I must have gotten the wrong bunk last night because I was so tired." Hunter clears his throat, straightens up and says with a wink, "It's no problem" He looks nervous and a little shaky, you have no idea why, but as he leaves the room to use the refresher, you don't give it a second thought.

Echo

He stands in front of his bunk and looks down at you. He scratches his chin uncertainly with the scomp link. Echo doesn't really know what to do, he doesn't really want to wake you up, you look so peaceful and relaxed. The day has been hard and exhausting for all of you. He holds his hand over his mouth as he yawns. Tired, he rubs his eyes a moment later. His gaze wanders to your bunk and back again. Echo doesn't quite know whether he should just lie down. You've probably made a mistake out of tiredness, if he were to just lie down in your bed now, he would feel like an intruder. Even if the thought of lying on your pillow, which certainly smells like you, is incredibly tempting. Echo sighs softly, sits down on the floor next to his bunk where you are lying and leans against it. It's anything but cozy, but he's tired enough to fall asleep after a short time sitting up, his head resting halfway on the edge of the bunk. He wakes up when something brushes against his head. The blanket you covered yourself with. You move, it's early morning, you're still half asleep when you see Echo looking at you over the edge of the bunk.

You blink several times, a little startled. "Echo? What are you doing down there?" He straightens up a little awkwardly, his back aching a little from the position he's been sleeping in. He smirks wryly and says, "Well, you occupied my bed, so I had to improvise" You rub the sleep from your eyes and look around the bunk. Echo is right, this is not your bedding, not your bunk. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you stare at him. Others might be angry, but Echo just smiles at you. "Why didn't you just use my bunk?" you ask, confused. Echo shrugs, scratches the back of his head uncertainly and says, "Well, I don't know, I didn't want to just do it without being asked" You laugh softly. "But Echo, I climbed into your bed without being asked" Wrecker in the background, still half asleep himself, grins at you from his bunk, "Echo just wished you'd done it while he was in there"

Echo's eyes widen and his heart races. He feels he has been caught, but grumbles at his brother, "Would you please keep your comments to yourself?" When he looks at you again, you both smile shyly, barely able to meet each other's gaze.

Wrecker

He looks into his bunk, puzzled. Wrecker wasn't expecting this. A little unsettled, he scratches the back of his head and looks around. Everyone else is already asleep, or about to fall asleep. His huge figure stands bent over you next to the bunk you're lying in, his bunk. Normally you would probably have woken up just from the feeling of being watched, by his presence, but you're so wiped out today, probably not even a bomb would wake you up. Wrecker's bunk is bigger than the standardized bunks, because he himself is also bigger than the norm among soldiers, so you should have noticed that alone, but you didn't. He looks over to your bunk, the only one that is still empty and much smaller than he is used to. You mumble something in your sleep. A smile spreads across his face. He was actually toying with the idea of waking you up, but you look so cute, he can't bring himself to do it. Wrecker heads for your bunk, gets ready for bed, and squeezes himself in. When you wake up the next morning, it takes a moment, but you realize you're in the wrong bunk. "Oops," you mumble quietly, straighten up and look around. Everyone is still asleep.

Wrecker is lying in your bunk. He can't stretch out his legs, he's curled up like a fetus, his knees sticking out over the edge of the bunk. It looks uncomfortable, but also adorable. You slip out of bed and quietly walk over to him. You gently nudge him a few times until he opens his eyes. "Hey, big guy," you whisper to him. He blinks, finally grins at you and mumbles back, "Mornin' sweetheart" "Sorry about the bunk, I was so tired I didn't realize which bunk I was in," you say apologetically. Wrecker peels himself out of the too-small bunk and says with a shrug, "It's okay, it can happen" You are relieved that he takes it so lightly. He adds, "Your bunk is pretty tiny, but it smells damn good" You smile shyly and feel your cheeks heat up.

Tech

He almost sits down on you because he is so engrossed in his holopad. At the last moment, he realizes that his bunk is already occupied. Tech lowers the holopad and stares at you silently, as if he could wake you up with his gaze alone. His brow furrowed, he looks at his bunk and wonders how you could have mistaken it. The walls are scrawled with drawings and calculations he made at some point, it's hard to miss. Were you really that tired? He reaches out for you, but just above your arm, his hand stops, he holds it there uncertainly in the air for a while, undecided whether to wake you or not. Actually, this is his bunk, Tech thinks, you shouldn't sleep in it. But there's another thought, a feeling. Because you are sleeping in his bed, you are very close to him in a way. In the morning, his pillow will certainly smell of you. A part of him that he doesn't really understand at the moment, likes that, a lot. He stands there for a long time, the datapad in his hand, watching you. Echo whispers softly over the snoring of the others, "Why don't you go to their bunk, the staring is getting creepy" Tech blinks, startled, and turns to his brother.

He whispers back, "But this is my bunk" Echo sighs and says a little impatiently, "They were extremely tired, I'm sure it was an accident. Now just let them sleep and lie down in their bunk" Tech walks to your bunk, stares at it for a while, then finally lies down. It feels very different, strange, but somehow also pleasant. It smells good, although foreign, but at the same time familiar, because it smells like you. Lost in thought, he begins to paint the walls of the bunk with drawings and calculations. When he falls asleep, Tech still has the pen in his hand and your smell in his nose. It feels like he's falling asleep in your arms and all night long, Tech has a little smile on his lips. When he wakes up, it's still night, and you're already standing next to his bunk. "Sorry," you say quietly. Tech needs a moment to collect himself, the fog of sleep hasn't quite left him yet. "It's okay," he says just as softly, and peels himself out of bed to swap bunks back with you.

You lie down and look around in the semi-darkness. Tech has painted practically every free space. As you lie on your back, you look directly at the sketch of a podracer and a wild sequence of numbers that probably only he understands. You smile. Tech has slept in your bed and left something like his signature, somehow you are so happy about it that you want to kick your feet and squeak.

Crosshair

He is taking off his equipment, turns around and pauses in mid-motion. His brows draw together critically. There's someone lying in his bunk, you. He mutters quietly, "You're kidding me" He lets out an annoyed sigh and stares at you. The intensity of his gaze alone might even have woken you up under normal circumstances, but not today. His gaze finally moves to your bunk, which is empty at the moment, but then his eyes narrow to critical slits. Crosshair has no intention of being evicted from his bunk, accident or not. He grabs you and pushes you to the back of the bunk. Just as you open your eyes in shock and blink, trying to get your bearings, he joins you and takes part of the blanket, decently enough to keep you covered. Startled, you stare at him.

"But... what...?" He cocks a brow at you. "This is my bunk, if you want to sleep in it, fine, but I'm not swapping, so you better get used to me being close or crawl back into your own, kitten" he grumbles. Your heart is racing, you're confused and speechless, trying to untangle the situation in your mind. Just having him so close to you makes you nervous enough. But to be honest, you have no desire to go back to your own bunk. All you say is a quiet, "Okay" A smirk twitches briefly at the corner of his mouth, barely noticeable. Quietly and much more softly, in his smoky voice, he says as he closes his eyes, "Good night, Kitten"

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

[cameronspecial]

Hi, so I have a scenario in mind; where Zach loses his memories and instead of fixating on a relationship, he can't even remember having, he instead finds himself falling for his best friend, and conveniently, the only person he does remember. And it's just Y/n trying to convince him of all the good times he and his girlfriend had (because she's a "good friend that wants him to be happy even if it's not with her") but he couldn't care less, because none of the superficial shit she tells him, compares to the memories he has of her.

She'd be like, "Oh, you two are so cute, omg 🙄 you take walks together, you eat together, everyone thinks you look cute together. Blah blah blah..."

And he's basically like, "and what? A dog and his owner could do that. But us? That's the real shit, baby." Sorry, this got long xx

That Shit Has Nothing On Us

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Masterlist

When Zach got hit by the car, the only person he could remember was Y/N. Even though they were best friends and attached by the hip before the accident, he, now, clings to her like Winnie the Pooh to a honey pot and not in the same way he did before he got hit. He becomes more affectionate and touchy. He always wants to have skin-to-skin contact with her in some way. He always wants to be around her. She’s tried to tell him that he has Zoey Wallace. That she is his girlfriend, he just doesn’t care. Sure, she has had a crush on them since they were five, but she knows he is Zoey’s and she doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his relationship. 

They are watching the Scream franchise and he knows they don’t scare her, yet he insists on wrapping his arm around her. “I don’t know why you wanted to have a marathon. They aren’t scary and are so predictable,” she complains, groaning at the not-surprising death of another character. Zach shrugs, “Come on. Don’t tell me you aren’t a little scared.” His arm brings her closer to his side. “Zach, they literally do the oh no the killer isn’t actually killed bit in every movie,” she points out. He grins at her, “Well, if you don’t want to watch the movies, then we can always make out.” “You have a girlfriend, Zach. You guys used to be so in love. You would go on walks to practice together. Kick the ball around. Eat with each other,” she argues, moving out of his hold. He gets up and looks into her eyes, “Everything I’ve done and talked about with her is all surface-level shit. It’s like I’m a dog and she’s my owner. But us? That’s the real shit, Baby. Everything I remember about us has always been so much deeper than anything I have with her.” “You can’t compare the present with the past. You just don’t know the deeper stuff you’ve had with her,” Y/N disagrees with a shake of her head. 

“I’m comparing the present with the present Y/N. She’s always on the move with life and stuff and never takes the time to just stop. She never lets us get to know each other again.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Zach?”

“I want you to say that you’ll let me kiss you.”

“You have a girlfriend.”

“Not anymore.”

Y/N freezes at his words. “W-what? What do you mean you not anymore?” He gives her a smile, “We broke up. I didn’t feel it was right to keep dating her when I’m in love with you.” “Y-you’re in love with me?” she asks with hope in her eyes. He steps closer to her, “Since we were five years old.” Her arms wrap around his neck and their lips meet in a fiery kiss. Who knew amnesia could be the start of a beautiful thing? 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[xoxosimp]

Not For Your Eyes

Tags: Rich Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: unbeta’d, bucky is a little unhinged, ew what is this, like ew literally what is this, inspired by that one time capsule episode of Zoey 101 and a tik tok, modern au

---

Your arms ached from attempting to wrap a hair tie around your hair. It was a fucking arm workout, which is why you always underestimated how long it took to do your hair.

A sharp knock pierced the air. You place the hair tie down in defeat and make your way to the door. You unlocked and opened it, meeting your best friend’s frown.

“ Didn’t I tell you to always check the peephole?” 

You rolled your eyes and walked away. “ It’s always you, Jamie.”

“ What if it wasn’t?” he refuted, closing the door behind him. 

“But it was!”

You return to the bathroom to finish tying your hair. Bucky took note of the three journals stacked on your kitchen counter. The purple journal on top had a polaroid of you taped on it. The covers littered with various stickers and paper sticking out pages

Bucky had never seen your journals this close before. Not that he would ever invade your privacy , but you threw an (empty) water bottle at him when he came within a foot of your journals before.

“ No peeking, Barnes,” you warned him, coming out of the bathroom 

“ You know I wouldn't, gorgeous,” he said matter of factly. “ These are your journals from the past years?”

“Year.” You corrected Bucky. “ I’m selling them.” you smiled at him.

Damn, he loved that fucking smile.

“Selling your journal is kinda personal, Gorgeous.”

“Well it’s not like my diaries. I would never sell those,” you chuckled. “ These are just… compilations..?” you trailed off, looking at Bucky to see if he understood what you were trying to say. He raised an eyebrow, signaling you to finish your thought. “ … Of all the things I’ve seen, places I’ve been, and the people I’ve met.”

People?

People as in persons. Person. Bucky could very well be on one of these pages of your flamboyant journals. 

You picked up your jacket from the couch and shrugged it on. “ Is there a page about me?” he asked carefully while your back was turned.

“ More than one,” you answered honestly. 

You turned to your best friend and laughed. He wants to ask you, you know he does.  “ Don’t look at me like that,” you said in response to his glare . “ Jamie, you’re one of the most important people in life.”

Fuck. He replayed the words in his head.

You’re one of the most important people in my life. 

He wanted to taste the words from your lips.Bucky  wanted your  words etched in his skin like a tattoo. You sounded like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. You sounded like a song he never wanted to stop replaying. 

“ Can I read it?”

“No!” you answered quickly. 

Bucky’s eyebrows pulled together as he questioned “ You let other people read it but not me?”

“It isn’t just other people, Jamie, “ you retorted, “ it’s whoever buys it.” 

“Where are you selling it?” 

“Well there-” you stopped yourself. You saw the look in his eyes. His eyes danced with mischief, one brow cocked in a silent dare, though the softness around them hinted at genuine curiosity. “Nice try. I know you. If I tell you, you’ll just go and buy them all.”

“ Can you blame me, gorgeous? You tell a guy you’ve been writing about him, and he’s gonna wanna know what you've written.”

“ The whole point of selling the journals is so that in the future, other people can see how awesome my life was.” you explained. “You’re already in my life so why would I let you read it?”

“I’ll give you ten grand for each of them,” he proposed bluntly, crossing his arms. 

His offer took you by surprise. You knew damn well if you’d accepted he’d write you a check you’d be able to cash tomorrow. But paying $10,000 for one of your journals?

You shook your head and laughed, “ How about in twenty years,  I’ll tell you where I sold them,  then you can buy all of them” 

His shoulders slumped in defeat. “ Why do you tease me like this?” 

“I’m not teasing! You’re just impatient, Jamie. Now can we please go to lunch?” 

—

“ The store owner agreed to keep the journal aside,” Bucky’s personal assistant reported over the phone.

“ Great.” Bucky grinned ear to ear. “ Thank you,” he hung up the phone.

He prided himself on knowing everything about you. Your fears, your dreams, what made you tick. He knows what makes you sad and what makes you happy. One day, he’ll be forward with all the love he has for you. 

Call him obsessed. He couldn’t give a shit. But Bucky needed to know what exactly you wrote about him. He’ll be damned if anyone bought your journals before he did. 

He had his assistant scour the whole New York City area for your journals. Once his assistant found where you sold them, he made a deal with the shop owners that for every month they don’t sell the journals, they get $10,000 under the table. 

Now he just has to wait 20 years until he can buy them.

---

I have not written anything since July... yea sorry.i might delete this later

[cherryzombi]

Zombie themed npt <3

NAMES : zomb zombi zombie frank frankie gut gutsy corpse corpy bo bone bonnie boney ste stein ash ashen zoey avenge butch butcher cal lypse apocalypse asylum auto autopsy bane brain zed zephie zee

PRONOUNS : zomb/zombie gut/guts corp/corpse bone/bones brain/brains vein/veins skin/skins dead/undead monster/monsters infect/infected grave/graves graveyard/graveyards plague/plagues blood/bloods cannibal/cannibals

TITLES : prns who feasts on humans prns who feasts on brains the zombie of the night name, the undead terror the brain obsessed one prns who plagues the town the graveyard lurker prns who infects us all the monster of (wherever you live)