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#they’re high school sweethearts
thrifteabunny · 2 years
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family time with the glenns! introducing jana, sam + their daughter jasmine (or jazz).
(+ a special intro for bonus family mae glenn the hen and fluffs glenn the rooster!)
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frankiescatts · 2 months
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i really do love spottedmouse i think there’s a certain french I don’t know about the way ur like yeah pretty sad stuff! but ur gearing up for the classic happy ending that every warrior cat gets when they have the starclan death reunion, same old same old, and then u remember that spottedmouse is 500000000x more fucked up and evil than every other romance because spottedleafs ghost gets forever dead like ten minutes before mousefur dies and joins starclan. it’s like a black comedy it’s so twisted. shakespeare is throwing up with jealousy
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nutal · 9 months
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CLYBE NATION HI I FOUND SOMETHING YOU GUYS SHOULD SEE.
So I was rewatching a scene from post covid and….
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I am almost certain that is clyde next to bebe because all of the semi-focused on characters in post covid are in frame here and the only person who i suspect to be clyde IS NEXT TO BEBE. I also checked back on his adult design and the hair matches up dude. I am actually going insane. THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY THO CLYBE LIVES ON EVEN IN POST COVID.
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macbethvsromeo · 10 months
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in terms of wlw icons, y’all don’t b talking abt them enough for me ‼️‼️
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killherfreakout · 1 month
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tfw talking to anyone about ur deep seated loneliness and u just know that they will never Get it.
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ritzy-cervidae · 2 months
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made with krita! a warm up doodle of Tory (TeenVerse)
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teamfortresstwo · 3 months
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Honestly I don’t see Vel as being their daughter at alll-
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denkisauce · 2 years
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For the ship bingo either Toshinko or Bakudeku
OMG THANK YOU I WAS REALLY HOPING SOMEONE WOULD SEND ME BAKUDEKU avdkdjhs bc the thing about bkdk is,, they’re perfect. they’re awful. they’re toxic they’re soulmates they’re the kind of love that makes you wanna fight god and each other and your mom and i have so many feelings about them lately holy SHIT
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nimbus713 · 4 months
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my sister and her girlfriend are so fucking cute i’m going to be so upset if they break up
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feathered-serpents · 10 months
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You realize when Aziraphale and Crowley do get together they’re going to be insufferable right?
Like there might be a short “adjustment” period where they realize they’re actually free to be whatever they want together where they’re a bit nervous about being in love openly but once that’s over? Insufferable
They are worse than newlyweds, they are worse than high school sweethearts. This is 6000 years worth of pent up love finally being able to run free. This is them making up for every word, every touch, every kiss they wanted but had to resist. And it is nauseating
They are their most nauseating in private but that does NOT make you safe in public. Aziraphale is a pretty big fan of PDA, but it’s very… Pride and Prejudice PDA. Linked arms. Hand kisses. Mild things, CROWLEY is the one with the vulgar PDA
Now, it’s not a COMMON thing, but Mr. Anthony “can sense when a man is within 10 feet of Aziraphale” J Crowley is NOT shy when it comes to making sure anyone with eyes near Aziraphale knows he is very, very, not available
So Y’know. Your heart may hurt but you at least have that inevitability to look forward to
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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NEVER LOSE ME ♡
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♪ flo milli — never lose me ♪
TELL ME YOU DONT NEVER WANNA LOSE ME!
pairing: rafe cameron + bunny!reader જ⁀➴₊⊹ ♡
synopsis: being in a relationship with rafe, things are always easy on you and your bunny brain. until they’re not.
cw: butt stuff, violence, blood, alcohol mentions, reader is kind of a bimbo, kind of dumbification? mean!rafe, canon spoilers, shoupe, criminal activity, manipulation/threats, slut shaming, mentions of drugs. the ‘dad’ nickname and daddy kink ♡
Your vanity table was your place of peace.
Pink powder puffs and abused beauty blenders. Shimmery MAC gloss. That one blush pallette with the rabbit engraving that was too pretty to use. When you were sat at that table, everything was okay. You were in girl world, with glitter particles floating like fairies in the air around you and that one lipstick swatch on the back of your hand. It was easy to lose time, there were just so many important decisions to make. What lipliner with what gloss? Are you doing glitter in your inner corners today or not? Probably yes, there was never a wrong time for glitter. However it was only the country club you were visiting, and you were meant to be there twenty-five minutes ago. Being a girl is hard.
The country club was where you and Rafe had locked eyes for the first time. You remember it so clearly, not so much like a fairytale but more so like a sexy 2000s movie where the hot people end up together. You were new to the neighbourhood, a pretty young thing wandering into the Kook club with nothing but a shoulder bag and a skirt that clung to your ass cheeks.
Rafe did a double take when he first saw you, the sort they do in cartoons. You were the first girl he’d seen that dressed skimpy and yet still looked expensive, all dressed in virginal white with endless amounts of skin on display. He’d licked his lips, squinting across the golf course as he aimlessly swung his club in circles, tuning out of whatever-the-fuck it was Topper was complaining about this week. At first, for a few seconds anyway — he didn’t know if he wanted you or hated you for walking in here looking like that, knowing you’d be the talk of the town and the visage behind every guy at the country clubs wet dreams. You’d looked back at him and nervously bit at your manicured finger nail, offering a demure smile. There was something unsure and innocent about you, which confirmed how he felt — if his dick jumping in his pants wasn’t enough. He had to have you.
He vowed to get to know you, force his way into your life — and that’s exactly what he did. He would have felt like a creep, eyeing you from across the bar and asking everyone he could what they knew about the new girl — if you didn’t make it so apparent you were doing the same. You made friends quickly with that bubbly, ditsy, happy-go-lucky attitude of yours— and were soon to sit at the tables outside overlooking the golf course in clusters, whispering through cupped palms and giggles when Rafe and his crew would pass by. He’d act all nonchalant at first, but as he chews at his gum obnoxiously, he couldn’t stop the smirk from curling his lips up. Even his friends would shove at his shoulders excitably. This shit is so high school, he’d think. It was time to make a move.
And so he did — he made sure everyone saw too. Pulling up in his truck out the front of the club, graciously turning down the Future song booming from the speakers to wind his window down and lean out of it with that million-dollar Cameron-man smile. “You leavin’ here by yourself? Look, let me drive you, ‘kay? Been meaning to talk to you anyway, beautiful.”
He’d made sure everyone saw you climbing into the passenger seat of his car. Rafe and the new girl. If Rafe had swooped on her, she was pretty much off the market. Word spread fast, and you were his before he’d even asked you to be. Things took off fast, and with Rafes status came your own. You were untouchable, unpunishable, Kildares sweetheart. A mystery to some. Where did she come from? Is it true X tried to take a shot at her? Everyone knows she’s Rafe Cameron’s girl.
The rest is history — dates, excessive spoiling, meeting The famous Ward Cameron, Rafe breaking that virgin cunt in the same night. Things moved at the perfect pace and you couldn’t be happier. Rafe just made life so easy for you, to the point where around him — you were completely on auto pilot, letting your boyfriend do all the thinking. You figured that’s where you earned your nickname and likeness. A bunny, he’d always compare you to.
Whilst you had this Marylin Monroe sort of allure about you that never failed to draw him in, you were wide eyed and innocent like a bunny rabbit. That, and the way you bounced on his cock, and lest he forget the way your nose twitches when you’re upset. Those were recognised as bunny-like tendencies, so for Rafe — the designer shoe just seemed to fit. You sigh, reminiscing on when Rafe had pushed that bunny tail plug into your ass for the first time as you walk through the gates to the County club. Clearly, you were in a mood today.
“People are lookin’ at me.” You giggle with your cheek to his chest once you find him, careful not to smear your blush on the delicate fabric of his polo once more.
“Maybe it’s ‘cos they can practically see your tail stickin’ out the bottom of your skirt. Pull that shit down, would you?” He complains, but does it for you all the same— ringed hands sliding round down your ass to yank the material down enough for him to be satisfied. You let him, enjoying the feeling of his coarse hands on you— knowing the material was only due to slide right back up as soon as you take a few steps.
The sun burns bright that day, and as Topper approaches the two of you on the grassy hill of the golf course— he holds his golfing glove above his eyes as a makeshift protection from the sun. He wears that expression that’s 90% teeth, smiling as he slides over. “And will I be seeing this lovely lady at the party down at Crystals tonight?”
“A party?” Your back straightens in excitement, neck craning to look up at your boyfriend, who’s jaw tightened at his friend.
“I’m there on business, remember Top?” He blinks a couple of times like he was trying to send a message telepathically, and Toppers face falls a little. Your boyfriend looks to your hopeful expression, sighing a little exasperatedly. “Gonna be there for like an hour. Max. Just pushin’ product, baby. Shits boring.” He waves you off and your brows furrow, following him when he peels away to line up his ball.
“But I like parties! What product Rafey?” You mewl, laying a gentle hand on his playing arm, making him briefly stuff his tongue between his lips to concentrate extra hard. He looks around for listeners before turning his attention back to you.
“Got some yayo on me. ‘Kay? Gonna make us a shit tonne of money.”
You furrow your brows. You couldn’t remember which drug ‘yayo’ was, and you wasn’t even aware of the fact he was selling again. He said he was stopping all that, but as he constantly drilled into your head — you supposed Rafe knew best. It wasn’t your business, and wasn’t anything you had to worry about. Truthfully, you cared more about putting together an outfit to wear to the mentioned party in question.
“Can I still come? I wanna come.” You bounce on your glittery sandals with a ditsy smile, the action making your tits jostle in your little top. Perhaps that was what convinced him, the boy squinting thoughtfully out across the golf course.
“Aaah…” He stresses quietly, lifting his arm to scratch the clammy skin of his forehead beneath his floppy bangs.
“Please dad, won’t get in the way.” You pout, standing on your tiptoes pleadingly. Topper coughs awkwardly at the nickname, still standing near by, rifling through his clubs. Rafe licks his lips before rolling his eyes.
“Alright, okay. But no gettin’ involved, a’ight? Got a little chatty with my customers last time. No more of that, got it?” He warns, throwing you a look over his shoulder as he begins to stance up, gesturing for you to move back so he wouldn’t hit you with his club.
Truthfully, Rafe didn’t like bringing you to parties. As much as he loved parading you around, he knew what he was like — and seeing tens of guys ogling what rightfully belonged to him got tiring. Especially when you were so oblivious, bouncing around pool parties with your tits nearly escaping your bikini, or dancing with your friends to the point of your skirt flipping up — giving everyone a show. He knows you didn’t mean it, you were ditsy as it was so with alcohol added you were a complete loose cannon. However, with each sip he’d take— his rage would only grow, always having to deal with your pouting when he’d make the two of you leave early so he didn’t pummel someone’s face in.
Plus, he was trying to mature now. Step into his father’s shoes. He didn’t even like partying at all the way he used to— it was strictly business now. An in and out job. Was harder to do that with you there.
You always forgot how well loved Rafe Cameron was until he brings you along to a function. His hand staying glued to the small of your back as he walks you through, heads turning — his name being called from all angles like he’s a celebrity. It made you snuggle up harder to his side, which he was alright with — he had no problem being extra touchy with you tonight whilst you wore that baby pink IAMGIA Demie set like you were doing it a favour. It shows more skin than Rafe was okay with people that weren’t him seeing, but he’d be with you all night, so he assumed it would be fine.
You fiddle nervously with the diamanté Hello Kitty sat on your chest when your boyfriend started to pull out the small bags with white powder inside. You didn’t quite understand the whole drug thing, but you knew for a fact you wasn’t the biggest fan of the way people acted when they were on it. They were loud, too grabby, scary. You push your cheek against Rafes side as people swarm him, asking for his supply. He’s cool and calm as ever, smirking in that way that made you want him all to himself.
“No hogging my shit this time a’ight? You get what you pay for.” He drawls playfully to the crowd, his hand thoughtlessly sliding to your waist to drag you gently out the way of the group that was forming near him. He turns his body a little, leaning down to your ear. “Wouldn’t mind grabbing me a beer would you baby? Got big boy business to attend to.”
You swan off to complete this task in a bit of a haze, you always got sort of dazed when you were with Rafe— mostly because being with him meant you got to switch your brain off and have him do all the thinking for you. It was a blessing and a curse, because now it’s been an hour and you forgot all about getting Rafe his drink, having found some friends to take some shots with instead.
You’re warm, stumbling giddily away from where everyone else is dancing as you approach the drinks table, pondering another. As you feel a presence appear up by your side, you tug your top up thoughtlessly, humming as you rub your glossy lips together. The strangers eyes fall to your little get-up, lip clamped beneath his top set of straight white teeth like a predator.
“I really love that little outfit. Looks great on you.” He calls out, with a friendly voice matching a friendly smile. It captures your attention and you whip your head to him, earrings jangling from the movement. You take the chance to look down at your ensemble before raising your glassy gaze up to him, ends of your lashes kissing your eyebrows.
“Oh my gosh, thank you!” You grin, wiping your clammy hands on the ruffle of your skirt. It was a compliment, sure — but in the back of your mind you surveyed the situation and he truly seemed like he liked the outfit, and didn’t seem creepy at all. He’s polite, keeps his gaze respectful (until you turn away, and he can catch a glimpse at your cleavage.) and friendly. You exchange names, before he ensues with the conversation.
“So where’s your friends? Left you all by yourself?” He reaches forward, pulling a piece of rogue fluff from your hair, chuckling adoringly at your carelessness as he tosses it aside. You spin around to where they previously were, met with no familiar faces and an empty space. You frown, glossy bottom lip sticking out when you turn back to him. Of course, it’s adorable.
Too adorable, thinks your boyfriend who watches you from across the room. He’s tightly clutching his own beer, stood chatting with his friends as he observes the situation — losing interest in the surrounding conversation all together. It had been an hour since he’d last seen you, and now here you were — parallel to him with some guy in your ear, making you laugh, fluttering those eyelashes like you always did. He ticks his jaw, tongue in his cheek as he stares you down. Waiting for you to come running over all guilty, ready to fawn over him.
The guy is suggesting your friends disappeared upstairs, perhaps a bathroom, a bedroom — anywhere he can get you alone to eventually work you out of your panties. You’re totally oblivious to it, shaking your head — having a reason against each of his suggestions. It’s frustrating, the way you won’t take the hint— but also the whole ‘bimbo’ thing was kind of doing it for him, unable to work out if you were a total slut or a total virgin, those doe eyes and innocent aura contrasting too heavily on the way your tits practically spill out of your top for either to give him a clear conclusion.
Rafe is mildly irritated, watching the way you bounce with each move you make— one wrong pose from your ass cheeks spilling from the bottom of your skirt. He keeps a watchful eye, until finally — your dopey expression meets his and your face lights up, traipsing over. Much to the Cameron’s surprise— you audaciously loop your arm around the guys bicep, dragging him with you.
“Rafey! Hi! Sorry about your drink, I forgot all about it.” You blink up at him, happy as a clam as you free your arms to affectionately stroke at his chest. He nods, lips parted as his eyes flicker over to the guy at your side— who’s face is slowly dropping in realisation.
“Yeah.” He responds, and doesn’t get to say much else because you’re dropping this sucker in it.
“This is my new friend! He’s helping me find my girls ‘cos I lost them.” You pout, and Rafe’s lip curls up into a smirk— gaze now completely fixated on the stranger.
“Friends huh? You uh, you makin’ friends with my girl, man?” He smiles, but it’s malicious— taking a step forward causing you to move aside. Your brows furrow, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere, especially when Rafes two Kook attack dogs, Topper and Kelce tune into the conversation, which attracted even more eyes.
“I didn’t know, dude.” The boy seems to have lost all his confidence from before, shrinking several sizes as your tall boyfriend closes in on him.
“Ah, he didn’t know.” Rafe shrugs theatrically before turning to his friends— smarmy smiles on both of their faces at the interaction. “Guys he didn’t know.”
“Come on, man.” The stranger seems uncomfortable with the amount of attention the scene is already creating, more and more heads turning by the moment. You fiddle with your necklace again, twirling the thin chain around a manicured finger as you watch— unsure just what was happening. Your boyfriend claps a seemingly friendly hand onto the man’s shoulder, holding him tightly.
“Nah, man— tell me. You usually walk around at parties… alone… making friends with drunk chicks? That’s uh, yeah that’s a little weird man.” Rafe laughs, so naturally everyone laughs. It’s clear your boyfriend is set on humiliating this guy for talking to you, and you’re not quite sure how you feel about it.
“Maybe you shouldn’t let your girl walk around dressed like a hooker if you don’t want guys—” The boy doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because in a moments notice — Rafe has swung his fist back and pummelled it into his face, hard. A crowd forms, and you nearly get shoved out the way by the sudden rush of jeering, drunk party goers. You gasp, watching the way Rafe straddles his squirming body, a meek attempt at fighting back.
“What was that? You wanna say that shit again, huh? Huh?” Rafe continues to beat on the guy who insult you, teeth grit, jaw tense. The victim attempts to push Rafe off, but Rafe pins him again — bigger and stronger by a mile. This only seems to anger him more, and you watch as Rafe wraps two hands around the guys neck, holding down until his face turned pink.
That’s when you notice that Topper and Kelce aren’t smiling anymore, instead pushing through the crowd suddenly to grab a hold of their friend, yanking him off the man on the ground. Rafe only shrugs them off once before letting them drag him away.
“Yeah? Yeah? Maybe you’ll think next time you try ‘n make some fuckin’ friends, bitch.” He spits as his farewell, before shaking free of his friends and grabbing a hold of your upper arm, all but hauling you out of that party at a speed and strength to where you were certain your feet were barely touching the ground.
The drive home is silent, and only then you start to realise that you might be in trouble too. You didn’t like when Rafe got like this, mad and scary. His temper was no surprise to you, he was always storming around with a sour look on his face, or slamming doors after the daily argument he’d hash out with Ward. All of these examples seemed like mild irritation in comparison to the rage you saw him succumb to only moments prior. He had this look in his eye when his hands were around that man’s neck, his pupil overtaking his iris. It was like he really didn’t mind hurting this guy real bad, and you wondered what would have happened if no one stopped him. Usually, for the most part he kept his anger relatively far from you. Now, with just the two of you alone— you were facing it head on.
The car is even more silent once he puts it in park on the Tannyhill drive. Both of his hands are on the steering wheel, knuckles split and bloody still from his attack, and you notice a speck of blood that didn’t belong to him on Rafes cheek, making you pout— fighting the urge to reach out and brush it away. Instead you stare, waiting for him to speak.
“You know, you — you really gotta be more careful with who you make friends with, baby. Look at this shit I… I had to beat his ass because of you bein’ too friendly. Me. I had to handle shit.” He bites, and you sink back into the seat, ashamed and upset. Perhaps he was right, maybe you did need to keep your wits about you more.
“Oh…” Is all you manage, sad and whiny like a kicked puppy. He licks his lips, shaking his head and finally turning his body to face you.
“What did I say about making friends with guys? Huh? Tell me what I said.” He tilts his head, blinking at you with wide impatient eyes as he waits for an answer. You suck in a shaky breath, wracking your brain for the last time you’d had this conversation.
“Um… I don’t—” You swallow thickly but it’s cut off by your boyfriend grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look at him. As if he’d hit some kind of panic button, two fat tears roll down your cheeks, bottom lip wobbling.
“What did I say?” He raises his voice and you let out a sad sob, sniffling as you try to compose yourself— speaking as clearly as you can.
“You— you said— any guy that approaches me doesn’t wanna be friends. He just…” You sniffle.
“He just what? Go on, finish that shit.”
“He just wants to fuck me.” You cry and he nods, letting go of your face to push his floppy, slightly sweaty bangs away from his face, puffing out a breath through his mouth.
“Get your ass inside.” He mutters, and you’re quick to do so, hopping up out your seat and to the front door, fumbling for your obnoxious keychains in your shoulder bag.
He follows closely once you’re by the door, oddly gentle hands on your waist from behind that guide you all the way to the stair case, giving your ass a pat as he sends you off to his room. You’re standing pathetically when he enters a moment or so after you.
You clasp your hands at your front, the picture of innocence. You weren’t crying anymore, but still looking devastated by Rafes unfortunate mood. He approaches you, looming over you with an unreadable expression and you yearned to reach out and touch the warmth of his skin through his shirt, or to kiss his naturally flushed lips— but you wanted to be a good girl for him. Make things right.
“Y’know the polite thing to do is apologise, sweetheart.” He drawls and you nod vigorously, words taking a moment to find you.
“M’sorry daddy! Really didn’t mean—”
“Actions…” He cuts you off, eyes fluttering. He places two hands on your bare shoulders. “Speak louder than words. Understand?”
“Huh?” You pout, and he presses on your shoulders just a little.
“You know what to do. On your knees.” One hand leaves you, beginning to work at his belt making you have a Pavlovian-like reaction, mouth filling with drool. You realise you’re just staring and he blinks at you. “What are you waiting for, huh? Now, please.”
You quietly drop, shuffling to get as comfortable as possible and begin eagerly fumbling to help with his belt, blinking up at him with wet doe eyes. You were surprised to see that your boyfriend was already hard — not just a halfie as things begin, fully hard. Maybe something to do with the adrenaline, maybe he thought you were sexy when you cried— who knew.
His pants drop to his ankles and he widens his stance a little, licking over his sore lips and softly grasping the back of your head, easing you closer to press kisses to his covered cock. Your need to please got the better of you and you impatiently tugged off his boxers too, starting to leave a trail of glossy pink kiss prints all over him as you let out your own moan of relief.
You were thrilled he was letting you do this. You didn’t like arguing, never able to think of the right words and always crying too much just like a baby. You couldn’t stay cross with Rafe, you simply loved him too much — so you were happy to skip all the hard parts and head straight to the end, where you got to make it all better and earn his forgiveness. Rafe was always happy after you gave him head, especially when you worked super hard, giving him plenty of attention where he needs it. You couldn’t wait to watch him relax.
It wasn’t long before you had the tip of his cock bruising your throat, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth when you gag around him, trying your very best to get him to cum. It seemed he was close, letting out quiet groans and even stroking your cheeks with his thumbs soothingly which was your favourite thing he did. Your nose twitches, sore and watery as you pull back once more — gazing up at him with gloopy eyelashes and flooded eyes, all sweetly, searching for his approval. He gives you a lazy smile and it’s enough to encourage you to head back down to take him as deep as he’ll go.
You clutch his balls and massage as you deep throat him once more, and this time — the burning of your mascara infiltrating your eyes gets too much to handle and you close them, squeezing them tight as you pull back ever so slightly to work your tongue over his shaft. You’re met with a light slap on the jaw, causing your eyes to spring open— staring up all wide like you’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar instead of wrapping round his ballsack.
“Open your eyes, yeah— fuckin’ look at me. Good girl.” He grits his teeth, and you know he must be close. You keep sucking until he’s milked dry, Rafes pretty bunny and her favourite carrot — swallowing every drop he had to offer.
All is forgiven, and the incident is forgotten about within a few weeks. It was a hectic time, Rafe barely having the time to bring up something that seemed so menial whilst dealing with the death of his father and the feud between his sister and the ‘pogues’ he always seemed to complain about. Rafe seemed to believe there was something gold that he was owed, a cross or something like that. You wasn’t sure. You’d only picked up enough information through overhearing phone calls to his old dealer Barry, in which he’d promptly close the door to obstruct your thoughtless eavesdropping when he’d realise you might be listening.
He seemed to have moved on very quickly from his father’s demise. Oddly enough, his grieving period only seemed to last a few days. You didnt press him on it, it didn’t feel right to do so. You’d learnt from some reality TV show about rich housewives that sometimes when someone loses a person close to them, they don’t even act that sad at all because they don’t want to deal with the big feelings. You wondered if that’s how Rafe was feeling. However, you couldn’t help but also wonder if your boyfriend was in a way relieved to finally be the man of the house. Maybe that’s why he’d started wearing some of Ward’s clothes, demanding you call him ‘dad’ more often.
♪ ‘WHEN I SUCK IT I LOOK IN YOUR EYES
YOU BETTER FUCK ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT!’ ♪
You hum along happily the song you’d grown so fond of playing from the AUX of Rafes truck. Saturday, your favourite day of the week. Your boyfriend had been doing a lot of stuff, lately. Going to a lot of places without you. There was something secretive about the way he’d disappear into his father’s office with Barry, ‘handling business’ for hours and hours on end. Again, it became clear that all of this kerfuffle was clearly about the mysterious gold you’d hear about. Honestly, you didn’t care to ask questions. The only gold you cared about was the glitzy gold chain delicately wrapped around your ankle, a sparkling ‘RC’ pendant dangling off it, Rafes initials. You stretch your leg out in the car, admiring the way it hangs off your smooth limb.
He could spend all week handling business and getting shit done, but Saturdays? They were your days. Days and nights spent out together, always winding up back at your place where he’d stay round. You always had a free house at the weekends, so what better way to spend it than wailing into a pillow with your boyfriend balls deep inside of you?
The journey is cut short when Rafe slowly pulls up outside your house, putting it in park and yet making no move to even remove his seatbelt. You look out the window at the familiar setting before whipping round to look at him in confusion, batting your fluffy eyelashes.
“I’m… afraid you’re gonna be on your own tonight, bun.” He scratches his cheek, a guilty habit you were usually too flustered to pick up on.
“Huh?” You mewl, brows furrowing, body sinking down into the seat in refusal. “But… it’s Saturday. Did you forget, silly?” You pout, your words doing nothing to convince either of you that he had simply forgotten.
“I’ve got business to handle tonight. Really important stuff that you cannot get involved in. Okay? Need you to be at home, and stay out of it alright?” He’s serious, wide eyed and speaking slowly to ensure not a drop of information slips away from you as you blink at him all lost and sweet. He didn’t like disappointing you, and sure — he would rather spend his evening with his dick nestled in your wet warmth, but this was something that had to be done— whatever it was.
“But Rafe—” You go to protest, but he cuts you off with a firm hand on your jaw stopping your speech all together.
“Alright?” He searches your eyes for confirmation. The way he grabbed you reminded you of the time he was mad at you, and if he was really going to leave you lonely tonight — you figured it was best you leave things on a positive note and behave yourself. You blink sulkily at him and nod.
“Yes, dad.” You sigh out your nose and his expression softens, nodding in approval with a small smile.
“Thats my good girl.” He uses his grip on your jaw to pull you in, delivering a sloppy kiss to your lips and even rewarding you with the wet warm muscle of his tongue rolling over yours a few times for good measure — yet pulling away before you got too needy, because then he knew you’d never let him leave.
You’ll admit, you started to huff and puff once you’d left his side. It was Saturday, your Saturday — and maybe you were spoiled, but going out for brunch with your boyfriend and then having him drop you home was not nearly enough to satisfy your needs, especially after he’d been gone so frequently lately. You’d gotten yourself into quite a mood, nearly stomping right past the package that had arrived through your door.
You tear it open, alone in your house and for a brief moment your face lights up — the new butt plug Rafe had purchased for you online after you’d begged and begged sat in the cardboard box. Much like your other one, it was a bunnies tail— but instead of pink, the obnoxious puff on the end was fluffy and white, like a real Easter bunny. Your grin melts off your face right back into a sullen pout when you remember that Rafe wasn’t here to help you put it in, or play with it, or tell you how pretty it looks in your ass. You stomp your foot, anklet jangling. This wasn’t fair.
The sun goes down after hours upon hours of boredom, and you try to preoccupy yourself. You redo your hair all pretty, you fix up your makeup, you play dress up in your closet. The new plug is slicked up between your fingers, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you ready yourself. You never had to put your own bunny tail in, Rafe was always around to do it for you — have you sprawled over his lap, his hand pulling your cheeks apart and saying “Good job, stop tensing up would you?” You’re squirmy and whiny all alone, upset and petulant about the fact he wasn’t around. You felt… what was the word again? Neglected.
You press your cheek to your pristine bed covers, arching your ass in the air with an arm snaked uncomfortably round yourself, the difficult angle making it hard to push your tail in. You groan at the stretch from the cool metal, pussy drooling as your eyes flutter closed and you imagine your boyfriend doing it all for you, as intended. When it was snugly pressed inside of you, you giggle hazily — waving it in the mirror to get a good view. Pretty, you can almost hear his voice tell you how pretty that tight ass is, and you yearn to hear it in person.
You decided you weren’t going to take no for an answer. Rafe needed you, you knew it — perhaps he’d been isolating himself to deal with his big feelings, and you couldn’t take it any longer. You’d come to the decision that you were going to dress up so sweetly for him, march over there and make him feel all better with the warm embrace that was your cunt— or your mouth, or even your hand. Whatever your man needed, you would deliver.
You slide on some white, lacy lingerie. When you’d purchased it, you’d hoped it would remind him of wedding-wear, planting the idea that he should totally marry you, put a big glittery rock on your finger. Something that signified that he never, ever wanted to lose you. It was bunny-like in nature too, a hole slotted in the panties especially to fit the puff of your bunny tail through it— perfectly cohesive with your whole look. You’re quick to drag on more white, taking the form of a tight crop top and a skirt that unsurprisingly barely covered the fold of your ass cheeks where your thighs begin. In no time, you’re tottering down the street in kitten heels, clutching your purse to your side. You’d decided to walk— and by decided, you meant you didn’t have much choice — bound to being Rafe’s pretty passenger princess, full time.
An all white outfit was innocent, virginal, wedding-like. He couldn’t say no to you like this, surely not— you convince yourself as you stride street to street beneath the lights of street lamps. Kildare was safe, you seemed to think so anyway. Rafe disagreed, said there was lots of stuff you didn’t know— but you’d never seen anything too bad with your own two eyes.
Half way into your journey, your quiet muttering to yourself going over what you’d say when you got to Tannyhill was interrupted by your surroundings suddenly being tainted with a flashing blue and red glow. The rumble of a car pulling up beside you alerts your attention and you whip around to look, being met with the concerned gaze of Shoupe in his Sheriff car.
“Hi officer.” You wave politely.
“Can I ask what you’re doin’ wandering the streets at night by yourself? Not safe to be walkin’ about with next to nothing on, young lady.” He appears stern and your brows furrow, wondering if you’re in trouble. You hadn’t been questioned by a police officer before, they had come sniffing around after Wards death, but Rafe was always there to answer all the tricky questions for you. You whimper like a confused puppy.
“I—I missed my boyfriend so I wanted to go n’see him.” You whine, fists balled nervously at your side. It probably didn’t help that you were already riled up, so this was just immediately too much for you.
Shoupe recognised Rafe Cameron as your boyfriend and his eyebrows raise, purely at the fact that whilst he respected the Cameron family — he couldn’t fathom missing a spoilt brat like that.
“You know I got a niece of my own, about your age — I wouldn’t be lettin’ her walk the streets like this alright? Why don’t you give someone a call? Where are your parents?” He shakes his head, and now you’re super fed up.
“I don’t — am I in trouble? I had to walk because I failed my driving test and— and my parents go away on weekends I— I just miss my boyfriend and I want to go to his house! I don’t understand why you’re asking me stuff—” You start to cry, stomping a mini heel on the ground making the officer sigh, closing his eyes for a moment regretting stopping all together.
“Not my circus, not my monkeys. Don’t get paid enough for this crap.” He mutters to himself before opening his eyes and plastering on a forced smile and leaning his elbow out the open window. “‘Know what? Don’t you worry that head, young lady. Be safe, I’ll let you get on with it.” He waves before pulling out the parking space, leaving you waving him off tearfully— continuing your journey.
You wipe your tears, happy that you’re finally approaching Tannyhill— not long now until you’re back in your boyfriend’s arms. Sure, you were directly disobeying his one rule to stay home and mind your business tonight, but it wouldn’t be the first punishment you’d faced from Rafe — and the thought of having his hands on you in any way was delightful — so you’d be more than happy to pay the price.
Your shoes crunch carefully down the drive, blinking up at the grand historical home before you. You always loved being there. Being at Tannyhill with Rafe made you feel like he was the president and you were his first lady, ruling over Kildare in your very own White House. The fantasy whisks you away for a moment, and it takes you a couple of slow seconds to realise no one has responded to your knock at the front door. You wiggle the handle, and for once — it doesn’t open. You frown. Rafe was home, right?
You hum in confusion, trailing around to each window — looking for any signs of life as you call his name. “Rafey, are you home? It’s me…” You all but whine, growing increasingly more frustrated. Had you really walked all that way in the dark for nothing?
You puff out a dramatic breath, gathering yourself. Take a look around, you command yourself — use your big girl brain for once. Rafes truck was on the drive, and the lights were on in the house — so you figured it was fair to assume he was indeed home. The only thing out of place was the large van parked haphazardly on the drive. It wasn’t unheard of for unknown vehicles to be at Tannyhill. All sorts of people were in and out the gates for transport purposes whenever Ward would find something new and extravagant to auction off— but Ward wasn’t around anymore, and something tickled your curiosity enough to step towards it, questioning what it contained.
The large back doors are left ajar, so nosily you tiptoe over— fingers wrapping around one to pry it open some more, standing on the toes of your kitten heels to look at what would remain inside. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, and for a few seconds you’re not met with anything of interest. Boxes, crates— nothing extraordinary. Your eyes drop down to the floor of the van, and you freeze. Surely not.
The body of a man lies dormant in a pool of distinctive crimson. He’s frozen up, like he’s scared or had been turned into a statue. His skin is pale, and his eyes are open— unblinking. You hadn’t seen many bad things in your life, hell— Rafe had even put you on a restriction from horror movies because you just couldn’t handle them — but what you were looking at was unmistakable. You were staring at a dead body.
You draw in a shaky gasp, and a heat wave of panic overcomes your body. It begins in your chest, and spreads through you like a virus — to your stomach, and then your arms and legs all the way to frozen stiff fingers and toes. You jerk back, hand flying up to cover your mouth as you stumble back a few steps, fresh hot tears brewing in your waterline. “Oh my g—”
Your whimper is cut short, the sound punched right out of you when you back up into something hard and firm. You jump out of your skin, yelping as what you walked into sprouts arms and whips you around at lightening speed to face it. Rafe, your boyfriend holds you infront of him, enraged. For the first time in your life, he terrifies you. “Told you to stay home, kid.” He spits out before spinning you back around and manhandling you into a lift, arms round tightly around you as he lifts you off the ground.
You go to scream, you even go to run— from your own boyfriend, something even a few moments prior you wouldn’t be able to fathom. He only grips you tighter, and this time covers your mewling mouth with a firm hand as he wrestles you inside, dragging you through the house.
As he tugs your flailing, panicking body up the stairs — you catch sight of Rose who lingers on the stairwell, watching with wide eyes.
“Rafe? Rafe what did she see?” She hisses urgently, alarmed by the way her step-son was handling his girlfriend.
“I’m handlin’ it.” He drawls out, seemingly irritated by her presence as he pushes you down the hallway.
“Don’t hurt her, Rafe.” Hurt her?
He all but launches you into the bedroom and you fly away from him, on the verge of hyperventilation. You paw at your eyes, wiping away the tears as you sniffle watching his every move. He moves slower now, locking the door which causes your heartrate to spike once more.
“Why the hell are you here?” He blinks at you irritably. “Huh? After I specifically told you to stay home.”
“I missed you.” You cough out a wet sob, trying to gather your thoughts enough to ask the valuable questions. Like, what was going on? Who was the dead body?
“You missed m— so we’re just… disregarding my rules now. The — the shit I tell you to keep you safe? Keep you out of allllll the dirty work I gotta do to keep shit afloat?” He’s mad, squinting and shaking his head.
“Did you kill that man?” You raise your voice ever so slightly, coming right out with it. The forwardness shocks you, but Rafes expression simply flattens, shoulders dropping a little before he sighs, shaking his head with his hands on his hips.
“No, I didn’t.” He makes a point to emphasise the ‘I’, which only reels you off into more confusion. “But… it’s my problem now. A’ight? So — so I gotta step up and handle it alright, look at — hey, look at me baby— okay, I’m a proactive person — I — I was handed a problem, and now I’m fixin’ it. Me. You understand that?” He’s walked right over to you now, and you’ve backed up away until your legs hit his bed causing you to sit down with a bounce. He crouches over you as he rambles, a hand on your shoulder to keep your attention. He has thrown a lot of information your way, and you try to follow along — eyes wide and head shaking slightly in response.
“Rafe— you’re scaring me. That person was dead you — you have to tell the police! I saw Shoupe on the way here, even talked to him — why — why don’t you just call him up n’tell him?” You whimper, breath catching in your throat between every couple of words.
Your boyfriend stands up straight suddenly, blinking like he’d been snapped out of his wide, watery eyed trance.
“You— you saw— what do you mean you saw Shoupe on the way here?” He glares and you shrink, feeling like you’ve done something wrong but not quite knowing what.
“He stopped me on the way here n’I told him I was comin’ to see you.” You pout.
“Oh, that’s…” He begins to pace, before barking out a soft laugh, hand rising to scratch his cheek. “Yeah that’s uh, that’s perfect really.”
You tilt your head, jostling your hoop earrings in the act. “What are you talking about?” You felt nervous for his answer, and unsure as to why that was.
He stops his incessant pacing, turning to you with an amused and yet somewhat deranged grin. “You’re in this now, baby. You n’me.” He gestures to the two of you with a finger as he slowly prowls closer. “So— so Shoupe knows you were on the way here at,” he lifts his arm, checking the watch beneath his Northface fleece. “Around this time frame. Right? So really…” He closes in on you fully once more, bending at the waist to look at you eye to eye. “If… if you turn me in, we’re goin’ down together. How’s that sound, huh— think you could handle jail baby? You think they do mani-pedis in prison?” He jokes, smirk only growing when your eyes widen. He was being cruel.
“Stop! I— I would never tell on you Rafey!” You start to cry again, and he nods slowly in approval, licking his lips. “Don’t wanna get locked up.”
“Yeah, well. All you gotta do is keep that pretty mouth shut. Think you can do that for me baby? Think you could… keep this little secret just for me?” Even now, he had a way with words. He made you feel special, like teaming up with him was something to be so proud of. There’s a warmth in your chest from the way he speaks to you, but a pit in your stomach at the guilt from feeling this way. You were dizzy with conflict.
“S’just too much, daddy. I dunno, what if I make a mistake? Just so dumb sometimes.” You sniffle, going to cover your face but he bats your delicate hands out the way with his own palms, cupping your cheeks to force your attention on him.
“Hey, hey. Gotta… use that bunny brain sometimes baby. Yeah? Gotta think about what might happen… if anyone finds out.” His voice softens with each word, invading your personal space until his warm breath fanned over your face comfortingly. He had a way of breaking you down to something so regressed and yet primal, pure putty in his criminal hands. Somewhere in the back of your hazy brain you felt this might be a tactic to get you on his side with all of this, but the words wouldn’t find you. “You’re my good girl, alright? Know you can do it…” His lips softly press to yours, and he starts to kiss you slowly, sensually, like he had all the time in the world.
You get lost in the kiss, it’s only natural — with the way his tongue wrapped itself skilfully around yours. He finds himself sat on the bed beside you, pulling you to perch on his leg as you succumb to the makeout session. He was really good at it, so talented at getting you wet and squirmy with just his mouth on yours. It feels like ten minutes of this have possibly passed by when your brain starts to ring out the alarm bells once more, warning you of your predicament. Your heart starts to pound and you pull back a little, eyes shiny and wide as they gaze into his lustful pair.
“M’scared.” It comes out quiet and he shakes his head, in total refusal of this.
“Shh, shh. How ‘bout you turn that brain off for a while. Yeah? Let me handle it.”
You suck in a shaky breath, swallowing thickly as you try to keep the panic at bay in his tight hold. “Can’t.”
“Yeah. You can. Can start by taking all these clothes off.” He drags his hands over your body, messing up the fabric in its wake. “Came over just lookin’ all pretty… would hate to ruin a night like this, right?” He talks slowly like you’re dumb and it only makes you ooze more, finding yourself nodding eagerly, sniffing back the tears and hopping onto your feet to kick off the kitten heels, dropping an inch or so in height.
Rafe tugs your skirt down as you pull your top over your head, and he hums in appreciation at the white lace adorning your body. “Mm, s’fuckin’ sexy.” He whispers, turning you by your hips to do a little spin for him, not able to help himself from giving your ass a sharp little smack and jiggle when he spots the new bunny tail poking through. “This one’s new, huh?” He drawls, giving it a little tug making your knees buckle, turning to clamber back onto his leg.
“Mhm.”
“Yeah. Wanna keep these on, yeah?”
You nod, and he’s kissing you again, handsy as ever as he caresses your soft skin. He’s being nice, for now. It usually started off this way before he’d get too impatient but you knew he was being extra nice for the purpose of persuading you to side with his unforgivable actions. Your criminal boyfriend drags his hand down your stomach, two finger pads rubbing circles over your clit through the lace making you groan out a cracked and desperate sound against him.
“Turn around.” He whispers, aiding you to sit between his legs, leaning back against him. Once in this compromising position, he peels your soaked underwear to the side— sliding his fingers through your messy folds. “God damn, weren’t lyin’ when you said you missed daddy— that right?”
“Just… just missed you so much.” Your eyes flutter shut, and you do find yourself relaxing more and more against his warm body, a clammy hand clutching the zip of his grey fleece, shuddering from his skilful touch.
After stroking your clit, causing you to clench and cream around nothing for a while, desperate moans sure to be heard by Rose if she was worriedly lurking in the hallway, Rafe started to push his thick fingers in, humming and licking his lips hungrily as your greedy hole swallowed him up, the long digits squelching from your copious tsunami of arousal.
“Oh daddy!” Is all you can say as he curls them just right, working you quickly towards your finishing point. As you drop into that Rafe-obsessed headspace, nearly at the crowning of your orgasm— his deep nasally voice rumbles from behind you, attracting your attention. As he speaks, he pulls his fingers back just so only the tips still remained inside you, and kept them there even when you wriggled your hips trying to get them in further.
“So… what are you gonna say if someone asks you where you were tonight? Huh?” His voice carries a threatening tone, which makes you pout at how totally unfair of him it was to work you into brainless mush and then ask you such an important question.
“I— uhm, I don’t—” You whimper as you writhe in his lap. He pulls his fingers out of you completely and in one fluid movement slaps your pussy, causing you to cry out in sensitivity at the harshness on the cunt he had spread open on top of him.
“Where?” He grits his teeth and you pant.
“At home, daddy!”
He seems satisfied, and slowly he sinks his fingers back inside you, causing you to release a relieved whine, liquifying against his body once more. “See? Not as dumb as you look, bunny girl.”
The words cause tingles to run through your very being, and as he continues to finger fuck you— you’re brought very close to the edge, very soon.
“Mmph— dad, g’nna cum!”
“Yeah? Gonna cum just for dad?” He lilts sympathetically in response.
“Yeah!”
“Yeah?”
Just like that, he pulls his fingers out of you — and before you have the chance to complain or even let out a petulant whine, he’s forcing your mouth open and stuffing his soaked fingers inside, all the way down your throat.
You slap at his wrist, gagging wetly as he holds your head against him keeping him still. “Yeah, that fuckin’ hurt? They’ll do a lot worse to you in prison, sweetheart. Can tell you that for free.” He finger fucks your throat for a few quick beats before drawing them out, letting you suck in harsh breaths. He wipes his fingers on your cheek before giving it an affectionate pat. “Haven’t earned the right to cum just yet. You understand right?”
You sniffle, starting to cry again. This whole ordeal was clearly upsetting to you, and Rafe was just treating it like it was one big loyalty test. All you wanted was to be with him, kiss him, touch him — and he was just being so mean.
Your tears do nothing for your case. Suddenly and aggressively, your boyfriend grips the back of your neck and forces you down into the mattress on the bed, your ass lifted obscenely in the air — panties still forced to the side with your tail-stuffed hole and drooling pussy on full display to him. Glitter refracts off your cheek when you turn your head on the bed, trying to get a look at him.
“Would you look at that?” He twiddles with the fluffy tail and you groan, body softening slightly and pussy dribbling. “Doesn’t take much. Does it baby? Yeah. Dressed up all sweet for me, you uh—” He chuckles at the cruel joke before it leaves his mouth. “Wouldnt take you for an accessory to a crime.”
You let out a pitiful sob and his jaw ticks in irritation, leaning right over you, jostling you a little so he could talk right in your ear. “Quit. That guy you saw in the truck was a bad man, alright? Worlds better off without scumbags like him. I don’t… I don’t wanna hear you’re feelin’ all bad about it. I always make the decisions, right? Daddy always knows what to do, right?” He demands aggressively, spanking your ass hard when you don’t respond immediately.
“Yes daddy you— you always know!” You wail, distraught and he nods, lips parted and jaw slightly agape — fighting his belt off his body to yank his pants down just enough to pull his dick out.
As much as you enjoyed showing your tail off to Rafe, wiggling it against his pelvis, tickling his tanned skin with the fluff each time he draws his hips in — you were actually a little disappointed you weren’t getting to be on your back today. You craved the closeness, the kisses, getting to see his pretty cock collect all your glittery slick as he fucks into your glossy hole. Instead, he pushes in from behind and sets a punishing pace, balls slapping against you as he holds you down, forcing your arch into place. With each thrust, comes a quiet grunt of his own exertion — the days frustration being worked out on you.
This lasts for a few minutes, Rafe slightly changing things up like adjusting your position or putting a foot up on the bed to dig you out even deeper. Your cunt was so sloppy it was audible, squelching with each roll of his agile hips. From the way he had previously stolen your much needed orgasm, you could tell you weren’t going to last much longer, fucking desperately back against him as you sobbed.
“Shit, why you fuckin’ crying so much huh? This not enough for you, princess?” He taunts breathlessly, squeezing your hips for an answer.
“Miss you Rafe, want you— want you nice!” You’re shaky, forcing in a painful breath as you cry— mascara making a mess of his sheets but he didn’t care about that right now— too focused on the way your ass jiggled against him with each thrust. As perfect of a view this was, he couldn’t tolerate the tears and flipped you onto your back, forcing your legs up over his shoulders.
As he slots himself back in, he shakes his head— floppy hair sweaty, some of it stuck to his forehead. “There? Happy? Y’gonna stop cryin’ now, hm?” He drawls, speeding up his pace once more, indulging in the way your tits are escaping the lacy cups of your bra. He palms at them greedily, helping free them out the top and he disappears into your neck, groaning as he hits a new spot, your hole sucking him in like it had a mind of its own.
He sucks marks on your neck. Proof you were here, he thinks in the back of his mind. He draws back to admire his work and is met with your tear-stricken, devastated face. All pretty with doe like eyes, gloopy runny mascara framing them, a single mink lash on your cheek. He swipes it away, unable to control the urge to press his body right onto yours and envelop your lips with his own.
He sucks on your tongue, holding you there with a hand gently round your neck as he possesses you entirely. The continuous slapping sound of his cock bruising your insides becomes music to your ears as you float away on a cloud, eyes struggling to stay open from the sheer amount of pleasure you were facing. As he softly holds you by your throat, like a farmer handling its first baby bunny — he feels that remaining amount of tension coursing through you. That last inkling of resistance, even if you didn’t know it was there. He slows his pace, grinding his cock inside you, massaging the tension out.
“Oh, little girl. Poor bunny, huh?” He coo’s, cradling your shaking, clammy body as you whimper, puffy walls spasming around his length. “All caught up in big bad Rafe’s problems, aren’t you. Yeah… well, it’s okay. I got you baby. You’re never gonna lose me, okay? You’re all mine.”
With your bodies connected, you gaze up into his eyes. All his, the words you adored more than anything. Your eyes drift over to his left shoulder where your anklet swings with each jostle of your body. ‘R.C’, the initials catch the light through blurry tearful eyes. All his.
A hand snakes between you, and when he presses down on your clit — your body finally gives in and you squeeze out a gut wrenching moan, legs shaking violently as you grip him, cumming hard and abundantly around his slick cock. He’s talking you through it, rolling his hips determinedly as you cum. You briefly catch his voice groaning out a “Thats my good girl. S’me and you baby. Don’t you forget it. Me n’you.”
You squirt out around him, soaking his abdomen, and whilst you might usually be concerned and embarrassed— you can’t think straight enough to consider that. He doesn’t seem to mind either, fucking into you as he chases his own high, mumbling words you couldn’t hear into your neck or mouthing at the fat of your tits as he’s spurting out his own thick, hot release.
Everything feels dreamlike after that, from the way he pulls out and smothers your hot face in sloppy kisses — to the way he lazily mops you up with a towel. You can’t process the pleasure you endured, and soon you fall asleep right there on Rafe’s bed, hot and feverish.
It must’ve been a good few hours you slept for, because when you wake to the soft warm touch of your boyfriend and his rings gliding up your back— your bleary eyes find the clock at his bedside to read 5:30AM. Rafe is dressed differently to how he was before, a black shirt you recall noticing in your immediate vision. He’s scooping you in his arms, sitting you up as you let out a disorientated whine, having trouble letting your brain catch up.
One hand strokes your cheek, to keep you awake— and the other strokes the fat of your hip, self indulgently. “So turns out, we’re uh— goin’ on a little trip. You like vacations, huh?”
You blink your sticky eyes at him, hand grazing the buttons of his shirt as your voice attempts to croak out a response. “Rafe, what’s —” Your brain starts to catch up, an unfamiliar and harrowing feeling spreading through your stomach— sinister and dooming as you remember the events that occurred before he’d fucked you and gotten you to fall asleep on his bed. Where had he been? So many hours had passed.
He cuts you off with a smile, a relieved smile — like all his problems had vanished, the corpse you’d found having just gotten up and walked away.
“Goin’ on a big boat. How’d you feel about the Bahamas, baby?”
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froody · 3 months
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I think a sitcom about the interconnecting lives of the gay and trans population in a rural area in the south would be so fun. Everybody dated each other or is related or are sworn enemies. I’d make the main characters a lesbian teen mom and her trans man husband who were high school sweethearts before he realized he was trans and she realized she didn’t like men, they’re now stuck in a platonic lavender marriage raising her son and renting a very shitty trailer from a very whacky landlord. She’s a home health aide, he has severe ADHD and a different even weirder job every episode. They’re both in love with the same person, a beautiful shy trans woman who just inherited a house in the area and moved from a big city. They’re friends with the rest of the LGBTQ population in the tricounty area and they’re always trying to show their love interest points of interest and trying to introduce her to new people and it keeps going terribly wrong.
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canthelpit0 · 26 days
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Fake?
Pairing: Matt sturniolo x Reader
Word count : 3.2k +
Summary: matt and reader have known each other since forever. And they’ve been attached at the hip since forever. But what happens when they start to just let everyone think they’re dating, since it’s too hard to convince them otherwise anyway..
Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (sort of) fake dating, use of y/n, sweet talk, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), gentle sex, oral fem!Reciving, unprotected, creampie, 2nd person.
(A/N: sorry this is actually so short. But I wanted to write something more fluffy for Matt.)
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Being childhood friends with the triplets there was always something going on in your life.
You and Matt have been tied at the hip since you were just babies. And sometimes it felt like he was more dependent on you than his own triplet brothers.
You were always together, hanging out. Good thing you were neighbors.
Back when you were younger it was even worse. You’d always sleep in the same bed. Whether at his or your house, you were always snuggling into each other.
You’d hold hands whenever you went anywhere. You made his anxiety better.
You were always there for him. And always being there for him, you were there for his first panic attack. You didn’t know what to do, but just your presence made him calm down faster.
How close you were was questionable, It was cute when you were kids, but you were both seniors in high school now.
Obviously, you were best friends with Nick and Chris too. Yet with Matt, it was different.
He was popular around school. Well not really him. But he was known because he is a triplet. Matt out of the three of them was the most introverted so naturally, he seemed the most mysterious.
Most people also thought you two were dating. And you did nothing to stop them from thinking that. After all, why would you care about what they say?
Matt was currently pacing around in front of you though. You were sitting on your bed, propped against your headboard, as you just watched him move around.
Contrary to popular belief, The most you and Matt had ever done is kiss. And that was only because you got dared to in middle school. And it was only one time.
“C’mon y/n/n please” he whines dramatically. Matt comes over to your bed draping his upper body across your legs, his hands are clasped together dramatically.
“It’s like we’re already dating anyway.”
Matt and his brothers have a shared YouTube that they started recently, about being triplets. You have featured in it plenty of times.
People were shipping you and Matt. And people in real life also thought you were dating.
So Matt being scared to be shipped with other content creators, or any girl he was around, wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend.
You wouldn’t even have to change anything about the way you act, really. You two already act like a couple.
“Matt” you sigh your hands finding their way to his hair. You card through it gently rubbing his scalp.
“Y/n/n please” he begs again. His upper body is draped on your legs. His lower body is kneeling on the floor next to the bed.
Matt didn’t like being shipped. But he’d been shipped with you all his life. And if he had a ‘girlfriend’ people would stop getting into his business.
“Okay” you give in. Because of course, you do. This is your long-time best friend. You can never say no to him.
He perks up. “Really??” He sits up on his knees on the floor. His arms are still draped across your lap.
“Yeah, but what does it In tail ?” You ask slowly with a slight smile creeping up your face at the way he reacted.
“Nothing, we just say we’re dating” he shrugs. You already acted like it.
“Y’know and maybe kiss sometimes” he shrugs with a slight smile. He wasn’t going to kiss you every time you were on camera, that’d feel forced. He was just gonna kiss you whenever he felt like it, and use that as a way to show affection.
“Nothing we haven’t done before” he adds jokingly.
In a rush of boldness, you pull him up by his shirt and pull him towards yourself. He gets on top of you with a teasing smile, and your lips crash together.
It’s a sweet normal kiss, there are no sparks. It’s just a simple press of lips.
Once he pulls away you chuckle. “What’re we gonna tell Nick and Chris?” You question. “Are they gonna know?”
“Just let them think we’re dating too, I'm pretty sure they’re already convinced” Matt chuckles looking down at you fondly.
He gets off of you, rolling to the side of your bed. He pulls the covers up and gets underneath. Matt pulls you down too, so that you’re lying snuggled up in his arms.
★ ★ ★
So that is how you two started dating. And that was two years ago now.
At that time they’d only had around 20k YouTube followers and way more on TikTok. And now they were at 6 million.
You were also a YouTuber and TikToker now. Except you post whenever you want to.
You’d moved out from Boston to LA with them because, oh you’re still Matt’s girlfriend.
You have your own bedroom. Though you don’t use it very much. You’ve always loved sleeping in the same bed as Matt, cuddling all night, and that never changed.
People believe you’re dating. Which was the whole point. Even your families do, with no suspicion at all.
Except what nobody knows, is that you and Matt have never done anything further than make out. Even with two years of dating. You just never cared to really.
But you did everything else, cuddle, share sweet kisses, go on dates, hang out, and be close to each other.
It was almost like you were actually dating.
And the reason why it lasted so long with barely any problems, was because you and Matt never had an eye for anyone else. It was always you two against the world.
You and Matt were sitting on the couch watching some Netflix show. Nick and Chris were not home, they were at some influencer party.
Suddenly you turn your body and get on top of Matt. You leave a long kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.
“Matt.”
He looks back at you as you sit there straddling his lap. His hands snake to your waist to hold you. Your hands resting on his shoulders.
“Mhm?” He hums in response.
“You know how we’ve done almost everything a couple would?” You ask slowly.
He raises an eyebrow at the statement but nods.
“How about we-“ you cut yourself off for a moment. You click your tongue thinking of how to word it. “Can we fuck?”
That catches Matt off guard. Since it’s once again not what he expected. He pauses looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
“You want me to fuck you?” He asks again seeing if he heard that correctly.
“Yes please?” You say slowly. But before you can question if it was a smart idea to ask that or not, he’s already lifting you and carrying you to your shared bedroom.
He throws you onto the bed gently. You tell at the impact but before you know it Matt’s lips are on yours again.
He pulls away for a moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head and throws it away. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but this was different. This felt… sensual, almost.
He gets on top of you, as you lay in the middle of the king-sized bed. He showers you with kisses, slowly trailing his kisses to your jawline and neck.
You can feel him suck on your collarbone leaving a Purple bruise. Your breath hitches as you start to feel his hand start to run over your side.
You keep looking up at him through lust heavy eyes. You watch his every move anticipating what he’ll do next.
“Want me to make you feel good sweetheart?” He teases, his tone ever so soft.
Ever since you’ve known Matt was a romantic. Almost even a hopeless romantic. But maybe it was you all along.
“Please” you breathe out. Matt pulls away slightly his eyes looking over your face. He looks fond. Like you’re the best thing to ever have happened to him.
He starts to tug on your shirt. “Can I?” He whispers. This entire thing feels so incredibly romantic and loving.
You nod, shifting slightly to let him take your shirt off.
Once his eyes fall on your bra he smiles. He smiled fondly like this was all he had been waiting for all his life.
“You’re so gorgeous.“
He mumbles under his breath. His kisses go back to your collarbone, leaving even more love bites on it.
“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise.” He smiles. He places a sweet peck on your cheek before he starts to trail them down your body.
Once he reaches your pants he tugs on them lightly before you whine out an agreement.
As soon as it’s off he starts to admire your half naked body in front of him. Matt perches between your thighs leaving a teasing peck on your clothed clit.
“Please” you sighs. You push yourself back on him. Matt chuckles at the movements. He pushes you down by your hips.
“Patience honey” he chuckles teasing you by kissing up your inner thighs. He was purposefully not stimulating the part you needed him the most.
“Matt please” you whine throwing your head back on the bed as you wait for Matt to do something, anything.
“Look at me baby.” He hums softly kissing up your inner thigh. He rubs your thighs slightly while you pick up your head to look back down at him.
You groan dramatically. “Matt”
The way Matt looks between your things like that only serves to make you even wetter.
He chuckles finally starting to pull your panties off gently. He slides them off and throws them across the room. Be careful not to put any pressure on you.
He smiles down at you. Matt sits up between your legs. “How about we take this off yeah?” He hums. His hands trails over your bra. You eagerly lean up to give him access to take your bra off.
He also threw that across the room.
You sigh, laying back down dramatically. Your chest moves at the impact of you laying back down.
Matt eyes lock on your chest
He smiles fondly. He takes one of your tits in his hand starting to fondle it gently.
“You’re so gorgeous, baby” he smiles leaning down for a moment to kiss you, and then trailing his kisses down your throat and between the valley of your breasts.
You let out a soft breath feeling his lips press against all these sensual places.
“Matt please. Come on” you whine dramatically laying flat on your back waiting for him to do something. Anything.
He chuckles, deciding to speed up the teasing. He places himself back between your thighs. Matt then pulls your leg over his shoulders.
“I wanna make this memorable for you.” He says. But before you can respond he licks a bold stripe up your pussy.
You gasp at the feeling. You close your eyes briefly and then look at him.
Before you can complain about the lack of contact, he leaves a kiss on your clit before starting to suck on it.
His groans were sending vibrations through you. he was sucking and swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices. He was eating you out like you were his last meal.
You were chanting his name like a prayer while he just kept vigorously eating you out. Your hands stay tangled in the messy waves, you gently tug on it.
Until without warning you felt his fingers plunge into your tight aching cunt. You feel him start to move them as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.
“Matt- im-“ you get cut off by a moan when Matt curls his fingers at just the right spot.
His eyes stay focused on you. He watches you with a sharp gaze. Watching the way you react.
His movements speed up even more. And before you can warn him you feel the knot in your stomach snap.
He continues to eat you out, lapping up your juices, until you calm down. He licks a final stripe up your pussy watching you shudder at the slight overstimulation.
You tug at his hair and he finally comes back up with his chin coated in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand, grinning.
“You’re doing so well for me princess.” Matt smiles leaning down and pressing another sweet kiss to your forehead.
“Matt, please fuck me.” You breathe out. You’re tone begging.
You’ve known Matt all your life. He was your childhood best friend. The guy who you’ve been fake dating for years now. The guy who treated you like a princess, despite your relationship only being for show.
And yet all you wanted to do right now is be with him. Be as close to him as possible.
In hindsight. All of this was inevitable. You’ve always been a little too close, a little too touchy. You’ve always known too much about each other.
That was the reason why most of your, and his other relationships didn’t work out.
“ ‘Corse sweetheart.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt and swiftly removing his jeans.
His dick is big. And that’s not even exaggerated. it was bigger than you expected. But it somehow made sense for him.
The tip was the same rosy color he had on his blushing cheeks. It wasn’t too vainy just the perfect amount. You knew from the size that it’d mildly hurt.
You whine at the feeling of him sliding his cock through your soaked folds.
You feel Matt gently push in. You throw your head back at the feeling making sure to keep your eyes on him.
“Fuck you’re so big” you breathe out. Only his tip was in, but the girth was enough to have you drooling.
“I’ll take it slow, honey” he looks down at you fondly.
And all that fake dating, fake love thing you guys have been doing for years was starting to feel just a little too real.
Once he fully bottoms out he sighs. He doesn’t move for a little, letting you get used to the feeling.
“You can move” you mumble under your breath.
“Your wish is my command princess” he jokes slightly. Matt starts to thrust in and out of you. His pace is gentle and slow.
And with the way he is leaning over your body, keeping the eye contact, it seems so loving and sensual.
“Oh my god Matt-“ you throw your head back, your eyes closing.
Matt was just looking down at you all fond and loving. He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world. The only woman whom he cares for.
“Fuck- I love you” you breathe out. Without even realizing what you were saying. You’ve said I love you to each other so many times. Yet all those times it was for show or meant platonically.
But this. This was not. You were in love with your best friend. The guy who you’ve been sort of fake dating for two years.
“Oh? do you?” Matt replies teasingly.
He leans down starting to kiss down your neck once again. And the feeling of that only makes you even more aroused. Your breath hitches when you realize what you’d just admitted.
Before you can panic though, Matt starts talking.
“I love you too”
He wasn’t slowing down. He didn’t seem phased by the confession. Like he knew, or was expecting it.
“Do you?” You breathe out.
Matt pulls back slightly. He looks down at you as you timidly open your eyes again. Your eyes lock on his once more. He stares at you with all the love and lust in his body.
“I should’ve told you earlier.” He admits. He lets out a slight laugh at the idea.
His eyes trail your body. Admiring every curve and feature you have.
“It’s okay.” Your eyes are half-lidded, watching him watch you. “Are you mine now? For real?”
“I’m all yours, princess”
And that sentence alone had you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. the way he was talking mixed with the sensual thrusts he was giving. It all felt so good.
It just felt so intimate and loving.
He leans down again his lips capturing yours.
You sloppily kiss back. His thrusts remain deep and sensual.
One of his hands moves to your breast again starting to fiddle with it, occasionally flicking the nipple.
He pulls away from the kiss. He changes hands giving just as much attention to your other breast.
“You wanna come for me baby?” His tone is light and teasing, but laced with so much lust and affection.
“Please”
He smiles pulling himself up. He yanks your legs over his shoulders, readjusting. He starts to harshly thrust into you.
The new angle making him hit deeper. He was hitting every spot in you, making you weak in your knees.
You whine and moan loudly, not bothering to keep quiet since no one is home. You chant his name like it’s the only thing you can think of- which it is.
His breath is sharp too, he lets out occasional groans which send tingles to your core.
He sounds so good.
Matt’s thumb finds its way to your clit starting to rub in it harshly.
“You’re squeezing me so tight honey.” He lets out a harsh breath.
You can only whine in response. The feeling of him drilling into your cunt is overwhelming. You feel like you couldn’t talk, even if you tried.
“You gonna come?” He huffs starting to pick up the pace, both with rubbing on your clit and fucking your cunt.
You feel the intense pressure of the knot, ready to snap in your stomach.
“Let go for me.”
As soon as the words leave his lips you feel yourself clench against him. your eyes close as you feel your orgasm wash over you.
He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through your orgasm.
“Can I come in you?” Matt breaths out. And all you think to do is nod. You were on the pill, but Matt was gonna take the safe route and ask before he did it anyway.
As soon as you nod you hear his sharp breaths. His hips speed up. The sound of your lewd wetness and the sound of skin slapping is echoing loudly.
His hips start to stutter until he finally slows down.
He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
Matt keeps himself inside of you. You feel the way your combined juices leak out of you. You feel the warmth and closure of his body.
He pulls back again. He looks down at you. “So does this count as our new actual anniversary or are we gonna use the fake one?” He says his tone is half joking.
He had that goofy, almost giddy smile on his face. And his smile was making you smile.
“I don’t know we can have both?” You suggest.
After a moment of just staring, admiring each other he pulls out slowly so as to not hurt you.
He stares down at your pussy for a second. Looking at the way it looks all filled with his seed.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiles. He bites his lip when his eyes finally meet yours again.
“Can’t leave your pussy like this.” He teases, stealing another quick peck from your lips, making you smile.
Masterlist
(A/N: again sorry this is kinda ass, but I rlly like the concept 🫶🏼)
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolols
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
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— BEST LIFE
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pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)
summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?
warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey
wordcount: 1.7k
a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋
when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.
what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.
“you’re sitting here,”
“uh-huh.”
“telling me,”
“yup.”
“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”
you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.
“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”
your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.
“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”
“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”
“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”
“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”
“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”
“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”
your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.
derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.
“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.
what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.
penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”
and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.
you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.
“and how much would he loose?”
“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”
“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”
reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.
“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?
spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.
“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”
spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”
spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.
as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?
“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.
“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”
lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.
his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.
right now, you were living your best life.
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utahimeow · 1 year
Note
do you ship any characters together or just selfship?
everyone i self-ship with is actually gay (bc i said so) but actually my fav ships are kagehina, kuroken, tsukkiyama, inuokko, bakudeku, n akiangel
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ritzy-cervidae · 2 months
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Tory (TeenVerse)
Name: Alastor "Tory" Hensley LeBlanc
Alias: T, Tory
Universe: TeenVerse
Family: Josephine Tillie LeBlanc (mother: Alive), Hensley Marshall LeBlanc  (Father: deceased/ died in a car accident with Tory (16) in the backseat). Leslie Marshall LeBlanc (older twin brother: Alive), Alois James LeBlanc (oldest brother: Alive) 
Age: 18
Birthday: 2005 June 13 (Gemini)
Languages: English, French
Height: 5’10
Gender: cis man
Body temp: normal temp 
Physical description: Coming soon!
Body Ref: Coming Soon…
Pronouns: he/him
Sexuality: gay
Relationships: 
Josephine (mother: good terms)
Leslie (twin brother: best friends)
Alois (older brother: best friends) 
Species: Human
Hair Color: Auburn
Eye Color: bright jade irises
Likes: Pink, ghosts, pastel goth clothes, tall men, goth music, dangerous men
Dislikes: Hot weather, Domingo, dogs, drunk drivers, spiders, 
Hobbies: hiking, camping, going to clubs (with a fake ID), singing
Location:
 Mills high school
Tanforan mall in hot topic,
home
Housing:
Lives with his mother and his brother
Spends some nights at Aloïs's apartment
Occupation: Model
Verse Tag: v: Psychopathic; don't be so dramatic; We had magic; but you made it tragic
Personal Tag: High school sweethearts; line up; they're trying to waste my time (💔Tory💔)
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