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tag game. add 3 characters you identify yourself with
thank you for the tag tayla baby ( @bruisedboys ) this is my absolute favourite tag game so i’m excited to post this & see how accurate y’all think it is!
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Nov 1st, you wake up very late the morning after halloween, light streaming through the gauzy pink curtains of the guest house you and Rafe have been staying in for the week. Your head still hums faintly from last night’s party, that blur of champagne, gaudy glitter, slutty costumes, fake blood, and lots of laughter. You stretch yourself on the chaise you crashed on after your shower, the satin robe slipping open a little over your chest as you yawn. The house is quiet. Way too quiet.
You glance at the clock, fuck it's nearly noon, and realize Rafe still hasn’t woke up. You smile to yourself, remembering how drunk he’d been when you got home, swaggering around the kitchen with a pillowcase full of candy like a proud kid on halloween night. He’d refused to let you take it away from him. “My treasure,” he’d slurred, clutching it to his chest, stumbling off to his old bedroom with a crooked grin. You’d let him go, shaking your head, assuming he’d pass out in five minutes.
But now, the silence feels suspicious. You stand, tying your robe loosely, padding barefoot down the hall. The air smells faintly of sugar and booze, that stale, sticky mix that clings to the covered walls. You push open his door and stop in the doorway, the sight so absurd you can’t help but laugh.
Rafe was asleep across the bed with one arm flung over his face snoring loudly. The sheets were a disaster—candy wrappers everywhere, a half-empty bottle of whiskey tipped over near the nightstand, chocolate smudges on the pillowcase, and the once-full bag of halloween candy scattered like confetti.
“Oh my gosh,” you whisper, biting your lip to stop the giggle bubbling up. You step closer, taking in the mess. Candy bars, empty bottles, maybe twenty fun-size wrappers, and one completely decimated caramel apple lollipop stuck to his chest. His abs glisten faintly where the sugar’s melted against skin.
You shake your head, laughing under your breath. “You're crazy, oh my gosh.”
He groans softly, rolling over onto his side, one eye cracking open. His voice comes out hoarse. “Angel?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” you say, crossing the room to perch on the edge of the bed. “You alive?”
He blinks at you, squinting, clearly trying to piece together where he is and what happened. “Why does my tongue feel like sandpaper?”
“Maybe because you ate your weight in candy and chased it with whiskey,” you tease, brushing his hair off his forehead. His hair was sticking up in every direction. He still looked sexy!
He groans again, dragging his face into the pillow. “No freaking way.”
You gesture at the evidence. “Yeah way...you left nothing, baby. The snickers..the reeses..even the gross licorice you said you hated. All gone.”
He squints one eye open again, catching the grin on your face. “You’re lying.”
“I wish I was.” You pick up a crushed Milky Way wrapper and drop it onto his chest. “You demolished it, Rafe, all of it.”
He lets out a low laugh, muffled into the pillow, equal parts sheepish and pained. “I’m an animal.”
“You’re an idiot,” you say affectionately, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple. “But a cute one.”
He grins against the sheets, still not moving much. “You didn’t come to bed last night.”
“I tried,” you say, brushing your fingertips over his shoulder. “But you were out cold, snoring like a lumberjack, and the room smelled like too alcoholish, so I gave up.”
He cracks a lazy smile. “You love me anyway.”
You hum, pretending to think about it, tapping your cheek. “I do... Unfortunately.”
He finally opens both eyes, rolling onto his back again, groaning like it physically hurts. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
“That’s what happens when you mix vodka and candy.”
He looks over at you with a faintly guilty grin. “Did I really eat all of it? Because you love missing with me.”
You nod solemnly. “All. Of. It. Not even one little peanut butter cup left.”
He catches your hand, tugging you closer until you were leaning over him, robe slipping down your shoulder. “You’re too good to me, angel.”
“Tch you’re lucky I didn’t record you,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You were mumbling in your sleep about Twix bars and true love.”
He groans again, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Kill me now.”
You giggle, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe after I get you some water.”
He peeks at you from under his arm. “And Advil.”
“And Advil,” you agree.
You stand, the robe fluttering around your thighs as you pick your way carefully through the candy carnage. The floor is littered with wrappers and crumpled foil yet you shake your head amused. You grab the trash can from the corner and start cleaning up while Rafe watches you lazily, one hand behind his head.
“You look like some kind of sugar angel,” he mumbles, voice rough but fond.
You snort, tossing an empty candy bag at him. “You’re delirious.”
“Maybe.” He smiles, eyes following you as you move. “But I’m pretty sure I’m in love.”
You pause, looking over your shoulder at him with mock seriousness. “With me or the candy?”
He grins with a sexy laugh, “Both.”
You laugh again, shaking your head as you bend to grab another handful of wrappers. “You’re ridiculous.”
When the worst of the mess is gone, you bring him a glass of water and painkillers, setting them on the nightstand. He sits up slowly, wincing, and downs both quickly, grimacing as if even the water hurts. You crawl onto the bed beside him, curling up against his side while he leans back against the headboard.
“I really ate all of it, huh?” he says again, staring at the now-empty bag.
“Every last bite,” you confirm, tracing your finger over the faint chocolate streak across his ribs.
He catches your hand and presses a lazy kiss to your knuckles. “Guess you’ll just have to take me trick-or-treating again next year.”
You grin, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Next year, I’m hiding the bag.”
“Rude,” he mutters, wrapping his arm around you.
“Necessary,” you say, leaning into small but sweet kiss. That's when you realize November is going to be a great month.
notes: sorry for the mental breakdown but littlelamy is here to stay! using these tags for this post only.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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ᥫ᭡ mar, 21 (my b-day is march 23), aries, black/native, sentimental, hopeless romantic, flower child, lover, old soul, avid dreamer, spiritual!
ᥫ᭡ reading, drawing, sleeping, vanilla and cherry, milkshakes, silk pjs, dark and milk chocolate, wedged heels, jensen ackles, fruits, lace clothing, tea, fries, walking, pinterest, necklaces, dramas, posters, driving with the windows down, drew starkey, nature, wellness, learning random and new things, meeting new people, pizza, new and different cultures from my own, learning new languages.
ᥫ᭡ supernatural, new girl, monte carlo, uptown girls, coyete ugly, burlesque, outerbanks, rebelde, friends, wildfire, girls next door, girlfriends, gossip girl, one tree hill, the o.c., i love lucy, revenge, h2o: just add water, saved by the bell, found, fresh prince, i dream of jeannie, virgin river,…etc (will be adding to this!).
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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requesting chichi (cause that's my girl) with any type of !rafe but heehehehe
him having to drag her out of a party they were at, drinks were involved and chichi caught some girl staring at her man which is a biiig nono- but yes, at first she gets all huffy and puffy but the minute the other girl passes by them and purposely has a hand graze rafe's arm- yeah, cat fight! 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️
any note (s) ⎯♡ yes yes yes! and this will take place after they get married (fic coming soon)
rafe had been glued to your side all night, hand in the back pocket of your skirt, leaning down every so often to press his mouth to your ear. “you’re pretty when you pout,” he had whispered earlier, when you complained about your heels pinching.
but you weren’t pouting now. you were fucking angry.
because across the room, half-hidden by the crowd of sweaty bodies and flashing lights, some girl had her eyes locked on your man. not a glance. not a double-take. a full-on, bold, hungry stare like she was thinking of climbing him like a tree. you set your drink down on the counter with a loud clink and crossed your arms over your chest.
“baby,” rafe drawled, noticing the way you shifted. “what’s with the look?”
you tilted your chin toward the girl. “her.”
"oh come on," he followed your gaze, then smirked. “seriously?”
“she’s staring at you,” you snapped.
“so?”
“so she needs to stop.” rolling your eyes.. like he should know this already.
“chi,” he cooed, pulling you closer. “you know i don’t see anyone else.”
“that’s not the point,” you huffed, pressing your chest against him. “she’s thinking about you, i can tell. i hate it.”
"or..." he grinned. “you’re jealous.”
“i’m protective,” you corrected.
“you’re possessive,” he teased. “and it’s hot as fuck.”
before you could reply, the girl herself appeared. she pushed right past the crowd, eyes lingering a second too long on rafe. her perfume trailed behind her as she brushed by, and then—oh fuck no—her hand grazed his arm.
no it was a light touch, to be honest. almost nothing. but you saw it and worse, she smiled when she did it.
“oh no you didn’t,” you muttered.
before rafe could stop you, you shoved past him and spun on the girl. “hey!” you snapped, loudly over the music.
she froze, turning with a fake innocence written all over her face. “what?”
“did you just touch my husband?” you demanded.
"chill," her brows lifted. “it was an accident.”
“like hell it was,” you spat, stepping closer to the girl. “keep your hands off what doesn’t belong to you.”
rafe’s hand caught your waist, but you shrugged him off, your eyes blazing. the girl gave a little smirk. “he doesn’t look like he minds.”
you gasped so dramatically half the people around turned to watch. “excuse me?”
before she could answer, you jumped, lunging at the girl. rafe caught you just in time, arms wrapping around your waist, hauling you back against his chest. “baby, no—”
“let me go!” you shouted, kicking your feet. “she touched you! she touched my man!”
the girl laughed under her breath, flipping her hair like she hadn’t just declared war on you. “oh my God, i will kill her!” you yelled, still thrashing.
“chiii baby,” rafe grunted, dragging you away from the crowd. “you’re drunk.”
“i am not drunk,” you snapped, trying to wiggle free. “i am furious!”
he pulled you toward the door, ignoring the stares and snickers, his grip iron around your waist. you twisted in his hold, shouting over his shoulder. “keep your desperate little claws to yourself, barbie!”
rafe finally pushed out into the cool night air, kicking the door shut behind him as he set you down on the hood of his car. you glared at him, cheeks flushed, eyes wild. “why didn’t you let me scratch her eyes out?”
“because i don’t feel like bailing my new wife out of jail,” he said flatly.
“she deserved it.”
he smirked, stepping closer until he stood between your legs. “yeah. but she’s not worth your time.”
you pouted, crossing your arms. “she touched you.”
“so what?” he asked, tilting his head.
“so you’re mine,” you snapped.
he leaned in, nose brushing yours. “you think i don’t know that?”
“then why didn’t you shove her off?”
“because i knew you would,” he said with a grin. “and honestly, it was fun watching you get all huffy.”
you gasped again, swatting his chest. “you let her touch you to see me get mad?”
“mmaayybe,” he said, his eyes dark filling with lust. “you’re sexy when you’re jealous.”
you whined, burying your face in his neck. “i hate girls looking at you.”
“good,” he murmured, gripping your thighs. “means you’ll never let me forget who i belong to.”
“that’s right,” you muttered. “you’re mine.”
“say it louder.”
you pulled back, eyes meeting his. “you’re mine.”
his mouth curved into a dirty smile. “there she is.” he kissed you hard, hands sliding under your skirt, squeezing your ass until you squeaked. "there's my pretty girl."
“rafe,” you whispered against his mouth. “take me home.”
he chuckles, with the biggest smile, “you’re lucky i love you. otherwise, i’d drive back in there and let you start that catfight.”
“you wouldn’t dare,” you gasped.
he kissed you again, softer this time. “no... i wouldn’t. because you’d win.”
"hmph," you huff sweetly, tugging his hair. “exactly.”