#nope nvm this sucks i hate everthing i put out at the moment omfg

[princessbrunette]

bunny dragging Rafe around all the cute little stores on her shopping day. he’s just all unbothered but ofcourse he taps his black card for anything and everything she picks up off the shelf

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rafes always a couple of steps behind, tapping at the keyboard of his phone as he furiously berates someone via email. he doesn’t particularly need to look up, simply following the sound of your kitten heels tapping along the black tiles of victoria secret, and the occasional “ooooh, this is cute!”

you brought rafe along because you enjoyed spending time with him. even if you could tell all the girly shit really wasn’t his thing, he didn’t mind tagging along based on the fact you were tottering around the mall in a tiny skirt and he knew guys would be bothering you. it also was kind of a turn on for him to be the one always swiping his card for you, a power thing perhaps.

he nearly walks into the back of you when stop abruptly, spinning around wafting two tiny lacy scraps of fabric in his face.

“pink or white, rafey?” you whine, like the decision was life or death. he hums, zoned out as he hits send before pocketing his phone, blinking at you.

“…what?”

“pink or white?”

he scratches his cheek, carelessly gazing between the two. “both. s’not like you gotta choose — m’a fuckin’ walking piggy bank, clearly.”

you giggle, wrapping your manicured hand around his bicep — dragging him along. “someones grumpy.”

“got some god damn asshole blowing up my email. it’s like no one wants to do their jobs anymore.” your boyfriend complains, subconsciously reaching for his wallet once more once you reach the check out. standing on your tiptoes, you smush a glossy kiss against his cheek, pressing your body against him as the checkout girl rings up your items, placing them into the pale pink bag.

“i’m sorry daddy, atleast i know how to behave.” you flutter your eyelashes up at him, disregarding the awkward gaze of the check out girl. he smirks at your unabashed nicknaming, eyes not leaving yours as he taps his card on the reader.

“yeah, damn right you do.”

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