I think that when you're overstimulated you should appear kind of grayed out and no one should be able to interact with you like a locked character in a video game
Description: What began as an insult quickly turned into a marriage of deep devotion and comfort. AKA you’re the only thing keeping Daeron together.
It is an insult you know it, this marriage, arranged as most are, few ever marry for love, but you thought perhaps you might be lucky. The Gods held no care for luck though, and they clearly held no care for you.
Your father tried to sweeten the stock you were forced to swallow. You will be a princess, sweet girl, is that not better than love? You wished it were, you wished it were better or even enough, but it was not. Not as you sat next to the man you must now call husband and watched as he tried to simultaneously sink into his chair and lose himself in the crowd. It was a feat to watch for sure; he looked as if he wished to split in two, both halves having the singular desire of hiding, of fleeing and leaving you behind.
“My Prince,” you said, drawing his attention away from the crowd and to you. His violet eyes would have been beautiful if not for the shadows beneath them.
“Yes, Lady y/n?” Daeron asked, his hand twitching towards the goblet that sat between you both.
“I believe you are allowed to call me princess now,” you said without thinking, panic filling you as your hurried to remedy your blunder. “But as my lord husband, you may of course call me whatever you wish.”
“What if I wish to call you by another’s name or simply my property, as some men may long to do?”
You buried your hands in your skirt beneath the table. “I ask only that I am not called something crude or cruel, or by the name of your mistress.”
He snorted. “Mistress? Who would want to spend their time entertaining a sullen drunkard such as myself? Surely only an absolute fool with no prospects.”
You glanced down at your lap. It was an insult this marriage, you knew that, but it still stung to hear it confirmed from the prince’s own mouth.
Daeron sucked an apologetic breath in through his teeth. “Forgive me, that was cruel, my mother would be disappointed. She tried to instruct upon us all never to be cruel to a woman, especially not one’s own lady wife.”
You did not raise your head. “All is forgiven; I am not unaware of my lack.”
You could feel his eyes on you now. “Lack?”
You nod. “There are many other women of the realm that possess beauty beyond my own, and from nobler houses, with skills and talents that many envy.”
A hand rests upon yours, and you startle. He has not once touched you without the urging of others since the day you met a few short moons ago.
“Princess, it is not you who the whole of the realm considers to be lacking in this arrangement. In fact, I have no doubt they all feel tremendous pity for the circumstances that have been thrust upon you.”
You look up at him, taking note of the way his long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. “I do not feel pity for myself.”
There was something in his tone, a faint flickering of light behind his eyes for a moment. “No?”
You shook your head. “No, for you have been kind to me, and I know that does not come so easily in a husband.”
He cracks a wry smile. “We have only been married a few hours; I could turn into a horrid monster by the night’s end.”
You turned your hand so your palm met his. Perhaps the gods have not abandoned you entirely. “I do not fear you, husband.” Then you intertwined your fingers with his. “Not yet at least.”
He brought your hand to his lips. “I shall endeavor to keep from frightening you.”
“So as not to disappoint your late mother?” You asked, feeling the brush of butterfly wings in your chest at the feel of his lips on your skin.
“So as not to disappoint my wife,” he corrected softly.
“Why is he acting in such a way?” You asked Daeron quietly, leaning on his arm as you observed Aerion rant and rage as he paced about Maekar’s receiving room. It had been a year since your wedding and you found yourself less and less insulted by the arrangement.
“He thinks himself a dragon in human form, or so Aegon theorizes,” Daeron replied, eying his brother over the rim of his cup.
You took the cup from him and sipped slowly. “Pity he is not a Fossoway then, we would all be quite safer if he thought himself an apple.”
Daeron snorted and took his cup back. “You have had far too much of this, dear wife. It has loosened your tongue dangerously.”
You raised a brow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, as you leaned closer, Daeron’s eyes flitting for a moment down to your décolletage that was highlighted by a ruby pendant crafted in the shape of a three headed dragon. “Oh? I thought you liked it when my tongue was loosened? You found it quite pleasurable the other night.”
“Enough, no one wishes to hear about your debased acts, keep such filth to your chambers,” Aerion snapped.
“Such filth?” You echoed, sharing a conspiratory glance with Daeron. “My love, your brother considers what we do as lawful husband and wife to be filth. Must we go now to the Sept and repent?”
“Quiet your woman, Brother,” Aerion ordered.
Daeron gave you a small smile. “Fret not dear one, he thinks this only because he has yet to experience pleasure he has not had to pay for.”
Aerion growled and turned on his heel, his eyes narrowed at the pair of you. “Say that again.”
Daeron held his hands up in surrender. “I was only educating my lady wife, Brother.”
Aerion stormed out of the room leaving you and Daeron to collapse into laughter, before sobering up when Maekar entered the room asking why Aerion had seemed so angry.
You awoke to an empty bed, the covers pulled up to your chin, the pillow beneath your head soft and perfectly fluffed. He should have returned by now. You could not sleep through the night with him by your side. You grumbled and raked a hand through your hair cursing Daeron for his tardiness when you heard it. The strangled cries and shuddered breaths that only came after one of his horrid dreams. Two years of this, and still it sent cold fear straight through you.
You slipped from the bed and pulled on your robe, tying it tightly around your form as you crept into your shared solar. You did not want to frighten him; he was far more sensitive in this post dream state.
At first you thought them drunken ramblings, but after watching him attempt to save a scullery maid from falling into the kitchen fire and burning herself horribly to no avail you realized they were more than concoctions of a drunken mind, but some strange power that still ran in his blood despite his kin having fled Valyria long ago.
“Daeron? My love, are you alright?” You called, spotting him seated in front of the fire, hunched over his head in his hands, muttered words slipping past his lips in ragged tones.
“Gold and dragons, and false kings, he will fail and be sent away, his seat lost,” he said, the words starting to take a more intelligible form as you drew closer.
You knelt beside him, quietly tidying away the empty bottles of wine. “My dearest dragon, tell me what haunts you.”
He shook his head, looking up at you with deep shadows beneath his eyes. “I-I cannot make sense of it, it is jumbled, and bloodied, the faces I recognize, but I cannot put name to them.”
You took his hands from his head and pressed them to your lips. “Come, if you remember it still in the morn, I will write it down, then we will try and make sense of it together.”
He let you help him to his feet, his body trembling, his skin slick with sweat. “I should bathe, I do not want to bring this to our bed,” he said, pulling away from you.
“I will call the servants, and you will bathe, then we will sleep,” you reassured him, leading him to the chamber off your shared bedroom, before going to the door and calling for hot water to be brought.
Daeron returned to you when he was clean, falling into your embrace as you sat together on the edge of the bed.
You brushed a kiss to the high points of his cheeks. “Better?”
“As better as I can be,” he said, one hand coming to grasp your hip, grounding himself.
You hummed sympathetically in response. “My poor love, if only the gods would allow me to share in your plight, your pain, I would do so in a heartbeat.”
He sighed heavily, his free hand smoothing down your hair. “You are too good for me, y/n. Too good and too beautiful, you should have been given to another, a man worthy of you.”
You cupped his cheek. “I was given to you, and I would not ask for another. You are my husband and my love, until the Stranger comes for me.”
He flopped back onto your shared bed. A rarity among royals, but he found his dreams easier to contend with if he could reach for you the moment he woke. “Your ability to lie convincingly has improved in our time together.”
You laid down on the bed next to him. “It is not a lie. Tell me, do you not know that I love you? That I cherish and adore you? The I crave you more than you crave drink?”
His head lolled to the side so he could look at you. “That is impossible, I drink to drown out the terrors, it is self medication, an undeniable urge, a way to keep my sanity.”
You smiled softly at him. “I would go mad without you by my side Daeron, only you keep the wolves from the door.”
He stroked your cheek. “The gods are both cruel and merciful. Cruel to you, and merciful to me.”
You leaned into his touch, kissing his palm. “They could have given me a brute or a philanderer, instead they gifted me you.”
“A drunk who is terrified of sleep?”
“A prince who cares deeply, who is burdened with knowledge, who despite the horrors he sees, still finds it in himself to be kind and caring to his lady wife.”
He withdrew his hand for a moment, trembling fingers tracing the curve of your face, his violet eyes searching your face until he seemed satisfied, and he cupped the back of your head burying his fingers in your hair. “I love you, more than anything, I need you to understand that. You must understand that you…you are everything, my love, my light, my anchor, my life, it is you, everything good in this world is you.”
You melted, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I love you too, more than anything.”
He smiled, the tension in his brow slowly fading. “Do not leave me this night y/n, you keep the wolves from the door.”
You moved closer, pressing yourself to him, legs tangling together until you were not more than a hairsbreadth’s apart. “I will not leave you, even if you try to push me away. I am yours Daeron, and you are mine; the gods have willed it as thus.”
He smiled, softly, sadly. “I do not deserve you.”
You kissed him gently. “You do not get to decide that, now sleep, my love or I shall be cross with you.”
His eyelids began to slowly drift closed, and he buried his face in your neck, but you could feel his smile against your skin. “We would not want that.”
Your arms wrapped around him as you settled onto the pillows alongside him. “No, we would not.”
He pressed a final kiss to your throat, whispering something you could not hear before sleep finally took you both.
robert “professional aftercare.” robertson who after completely destroying your guts gives you the most gentle kiss ever. youre so far gone that he has to cradle you, mumble soft “hey, hey baby? you still with me?” you nod slowly, reaching out to robert as he chuckles and holds you up.
robert “professional aftercare” robertson who gives you gently kisses, apologizes and leaves to the bathroom. he returned with a warm rag, before cleaning you up. sure it was uncomfortable; the wag wasn’t the softest texture but robert’s praises made it better. his calmly tone, the way he looked at you while smiling “you did so good.” or “let me take care of you.”
robert “professional aftercare.” robertson carried you to the bathroom, the years of him lifting weights and training finally pays off not just for mecha man, but to carry you. was he going to carry and hold you the whole time you showered together? fuck yeah he was, he’s the reason you can barely move, it was the least he can do.
robert “professional aftercare.” robertson who dressed and rubbed lotion all over your body. he wanted to make you feel even better after your little session, giving your back small massage movements as he worked through the muscles. he made his way down to your legs, rubbing the very sore muscles. he liked hearing your soft moans and whines as he continued to massage your body.
robert “professional aftercare.” robertson who threw on a pair of boxers before laying down next to you. he made sure that your comfortable, feeling loved, and hydrated. he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head and cheeks. he continued with his loving and reassuring words, god if he could stay like this forever he would.
robert “professional aftercare” robertson who knew he can be rough if you let him, but will always baby and comfort you in the end. no matter how rough he was being, he’ll make up for it by being the best aftercare giver in the world.
જ⁀➴ . . . Robert wants to change his lock screen and nearly blinds you and Beef in the process ᝰ.ᐟ
It was late, really late, his shift had dragged on forever and he came so close to punching a fist through the monitor three different times. The Z-Team had really tested the strength of his patience tonight with their fucking around; sometimes it really felt like he was talking into the void.
He locks the door behind him with a weary sigh, kicking his shoes off and hanging his coat up with a slow roll of his shoulders— turns out sitting at a desk all damn day really makes for some nasty tension on the shoulders and neck.
You were already fast asleep in bed with Beef curled right beside your head, faces smushed together, snoring. The sight makes him stop in the doorway for a moment, his expression softening into a tender smile, and there it is again: that warmth that expands through his chest like a warm drink on a cold day— he reckons this is what coming home really feels like.
It’s the perfect picture, his two favourite beings in the whole world all curled up and safe in bed, snoring in unison without a single worry. The idea hits him like one of those lightbulb moments, and slowly Robert moves across the floorboards, avoiding the extra creaky ones before sinking onto the bed— fishing his phone out of his back pocket with a grin.
He had been wanting to update his lock-screen for a while now but the topic didn’t really come up much and he didn’t know how to say— “hey I’m madly in love with you and your pretty face and I want to look at it all day so can you pose with Beef, I want you as my lock-screen.” without sounding like a complete weirdo.
But this? This candid shot, laid out and waiting for him, was perfect.
He unlocks his phone, thumbing the camera app with a faint chuckle— both you and Beef squashed perfectly in frame, snuggled up together like two peas in a pod.
He captures it, and without even realising he had it on the flash suddenly goes off, lighting up the dim space with a jarring bright burst of light. It instantly wakes both you and Beef up, the poor dog simply huffs in offence before hopping off the bed with another incredibly frustrated exhale. you, however, bury your face further into the pillows with a disgruntled little whine.
“What the fuck, Robert?” your voice comes out muffled from the pillows, all groggy with sleep.
Robert freezes, breath hitching, eyes widening at the unintended sabotage— the guilt shoots him hard.
"Oh, shit. sorry… I’m so fucking sorry, baby." He hisses, instantly tossing his phone onto the bed like it had personally betrayed him. "I— I didn't mean to blind you, sweetheart— fuck."
He leans over, gently tugging the blanket back up around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your shoulder— then to your cheek, then another and another all apologetically.
"Sorry," he whispers once more against the side of your face, voice low and sincere yet with a hint of laughter still in it. "But in my defense? You were adorable, your face was all smushed against Beefs and you were drooling a little."
You glance up at him from the corner of your eye, glaring at him from where you’re tucked into the pillows, still hiding away from the flash-bang that was practically burned into your retinas.
“I thought I was being abducted by aliens.” You murmur into the crook of your elbow, voice all rough from the sleep you’ve been oh so rudely ripped away from by your boyfriend’s sentimentality.
He smiles against your jaw, his soft laughter fanning across your cheek, where he was still showering you with kisses because he did genuinely feel guilty for waking you up like that.
“No aliens, sorry to disappoint, just your idiot boyfriend.” He sighs, brushing his fingertips across your warm cheek to tuck a wayward curl behind your ear— those big brown eyes of his taking in that tired little smile that settles across your drowsy face.
“Mm, well, I guess that's arguably better than being woken up to a little green man probing me,” you reply, a giggle catching in your voice as you turn around to look up at him.
“Yeah?— glad to know I win that competition, babe.” he doesn’t hesitate to lean down, pressing a feather-light kiss to corner of your mouth, his thumb running across the soft curve of your jaw soothingly. “I am really sorry, I didn’t mean to sabotage your sleep like that.”
“s’kay— was the picture at least good?”
He pulls back to grab his phone and you push yourself up, arms curling around his waist, chin resting against his shoulder, so you could peer down at the slightly blurry photo of you and Beef cuddled up and sleeping soundly, his wet nose pressed against your cheek— the peaceful moment before a criminal level disaster.
“Worth the temporary blindness?”
“Mhm, yeah, it’s cute.”
Robert hums lowly in agreement, admiring the photo for a second longer before setting it as both his lock-screen and wallpaper with a satisfied smile, which makes you go all types of giddy— butterflies fluttering around in your belly.
“Alright, better go grovel to Beef too.” He sighs, lightly pinching your chin to tilt your head towards him, stealing one last kiss. “Won’t take long, I’ll be back,” and you could already feel yourself nodding off as soon as your head hits the pillows.
SYNOPSIS :: Warren got his new glasses since he spent too much time on his computer, but it only made him more attractive on your end.
NOTE :: I need him with glasses, I'm on a brainrot
TYPE :: fluff
Warren has been acting strange, and not the way you were used to his weirdness. Goodness, you’ve been dating for almost a year. But this past few days he has been insisting going on “online dates”. For example, you guys are on facetime from day to night but you’re the only one who has their camera on and no matter how much you insist him to show his face on the camera, he just wouldn’t and creates a different topic to shift your attention.
This weirdness was putting you off, surely, and you’re sure he doesn’t have it in him to cheat. Now that is unbelievable. Warren. The guy who has been literally worshipping the ground you walk on ever since you were children to the guy who became your first boyfriend and promised himself to you. It was suspicious, but you couldn't help but doubt his faithfulness. Therefore, you took it upon yourself to find out what’s actually happening these days.
It has been a minute since you’ve knocked on his door and your patience is on thin ice. “Warren Daniel Graham.”
“You, you should’ve told me you were coming.” You heard his voice tremble from the other side of the door. Desperation was laced in the tone of his voice clearly trying to hide something.
The thought of him having another girl over made you bite your lip, surely he won’t do that to you. He promised. “Warren, you’re making me worry.”
On instinct, Warren opened the door wide open. Maybe it was a small sob and crack you let out that he put your distress over his and opened the door for you. Although, his state as of now was what shocked you the most. His hair has always been messy but it looks like somebody pulled his hair harshly, while his eyes were red and tears stained his cheeks.
“Warren! What happened to you?” Your cause of worry earlier shifted to the state he was in. Rushing over to his side and drying his tears with your palms.
“It’s nothing, I swear!” He laughed it off and harshly rubbed his eyes only for him to groan as the stinging got much worse. “Haha… w, what brings you here, sweets?”
“Jesus, you think I’d buy that?! Tell me what happened to you!” Panic arises from you since the condition of his eyes has gotten much worse and his tears doesn't stop flowing.
“Okay, okay. I, I got some contacts.” He confessed, blinking his eyes trying to dust off the tears that were welling up in his tear ducts. “I feel like my eyes don’t like the contacts.” He laughed it off once more and scratched his neck.
“Oh my God! Remove it, then! You might get an infection.” He groans once more, by this time he needs your help to guide him around the house because his eyes get blurry from the tears. “Here, sit here.”
You gently helped him locate the couch and he plopped with a bounce, though you couldn’t help but look away when he removed the contacts from his eyes and gently placed it back on the two circular case. “Sorry, t’was disgusting.”
“No! You’re not! It’s just your fingers were so close to your eyeballs!” You exclaimed, bumping your shoulders together as you took the space on the couch next to him. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Can you help me get my eyedrops in the bathroom? It’s in the medicine cabinet.” He asks, still blinking his eyes from irritation.
“Got it, just wait here.” You immediately got up from the couch and rushed towards the bathroom. You didn’t even need his instructions on which room is the bathroom, you made your way to it like it was your own house.
“Gotcha!” You exclaimed after investigating the vial bottle where a bunch of letters that spelled out Eye Drops on a sticky paper wrapped around the bottle. You went back to the living room and caught Warren rubbing his eyes abrasively. “Warren! Your eyes might get more irritated if you keep rubbing it.”
“Sorry, it’s just so… itchy!” For the last time, he rubbed his eyes once more before your own hands stopped him.
“Seriously, you. Anyways, I got your eye drops.” You handed him the vial and without wasting a second he poured droplets of it into his eyes and once again, you couldn’t help but look away.
After he poured the drops both in his eyes, he set the vial at the coffee table in front of the couch. He opened his arms to you, and you didn’t hesitate to collapse on him. You always loved the feel of his arms around you, but of course you couldn’t help but wonder why he ended up in this situation. “Wait, why are you even wearing eye contacts?! Your brown eyes are already perfect…” You pouted, at least to you it’s the perfect shade of brown ever! He bit his bottom lip but he couldn’t help but turn his frown upside down. “Don’t give me that sweet smile that you know I‘d go soft for!”
“Okay, okay, it’s just my vision has been getting blurry from using the computer, phone, et cetera. So… I went to the hospital and I had to get some graded glasses.” He sighed, remembering his time with that horrible and strict optometrist. “But it didn’t look good on me so I bought some contacts but I think I’m allergic to them…”
Suddenly you put two and two together. “Is that why you were so insistent on having online dates?” You know that you got him by the way he avoids your eyes and looks at the uninteresting items around the living room.
“Hmm, no?” His answer almost sounds like a question that you couldn’t help but chuckle and feel himself push his body next to you, burying his head towards your neck and inhaling your musky perfume that he loved so much.
“Oh, honey. You should’ve just worn the glasses. I’m sure you’d still be the cutest guy in this town.” You tried to assure him by caressing his cheeks while your thumb softly dusts away the tears from his eyelashes.
“You don’t understand. Chloe… Chloe said I looked like Simon from Alvin and the Chipmunks! And you know what? I actually do look like him, now that she mentioned it!” He groaned, pulling away from your comforting touch and put his head on his arms to hide, casting a shadow upon himself.
“Warren, come on, some stupid glasses are not gonna make you any less attractive. I’d even prefer it, rather than seeing you get allergies from contact lenses. So please, don’t torture yourself so that you can appear appealing for me because my feelings aren’t shallow for you that it would change just because you change something about you.” You softly pecked his lips. Finally his body relaxed, his shoulders loosened before nodding. While the redness in his eyes slowly faded away, and the tears that were flowing earlier stopped.
“I’m not underestimating your feelings, babe. It’s just…” He took a deep breath and took out an eyeglass case. “Just don’t laugh.”
You immediately shook your head as you watched in anticipation when he opened the case and revealed a black round frames. Your impatience and excitement got the better of you. “Can I put it on you?”
“Wha, uh, sure.” He gently handed you the eye glasses and closed his eyes. You made sure the hooks of the glasses rest comfortably on his ears. “Is it good?” He asked with his eyes still shut.
When you didn’t answer, nervousness settled on his bones. His fingers anxiously tapping on his thighs as he waits for your answer or at least a confirmation that he doesn’t look bad. Maybe the reason for your speechlessness was because he looked so adorable with his glasses on, sure it made him look more like a nerd than he already is but it just made him look more handsome.
“Honey?” He called out, he didn’t want to open your eyes and be met with a turned off expression, but as he was about to call out your name, your lips shut him up. He opened his eyes in shock because every now and again, he never gets used to the fact that he’s dating you so every time the two of you kiss it always sends him in a state where he has constant reminders in his mind that he has the absolute permission to kiss you back.
“You look so hot in your glasses.” You whispered when you parted your lips from him. It was just mere seconds but both of you have to take deep breaths while a bead of sweat rolls down on your forehead because somehow the room became comfortably warm even if the AC was on.
“Wait, you're serious?” His jaw slacks from your sudden declaration. In response you laughed at his obvious confusion, moving closer and straddled his lap. Your hand slid on his cheeks, gently squishing the soft flesh. Upon doing so his glasses slightly got crooked and ended up on the tip of his nose making it out of place.
“What? You might look like Simon, but I can see a little Milo Thatch here and there. And you know he was my childhood crush.” Your hand moved on his neck since he was about to reach out scratch that spot again.
There was not a doubt that whatever he hides, his small habits always catches your attention that it makes you see right through him. You know him better than he knows himself and how you fully accept those habits, patterns, and mostly is himself what made him confident.
“Mhm, now that I thought about it… I guess I do. What if for Halloween we go out as Milo and Princess Kida?” You smiled at his suggestion and gently nodded. While his hands roam on your back, you let yourself be pulled towards him, closing the gap between you before resting your forehead on his shoulder. “Are you sure I look fine?”
You slightly leaned backward and took a close inspection of his face. God, how can he be this fine and still question his looks? The glasses compliment his facial features, especially his eyes. It made his eyes pop more of color from the metallic silver frames he chose. “Do I have to kiss you how much I want you for you to be rest assured?”
The grin he had earlier turned into a smile that shows his teeth. “Yes. Yes, please.”
You didn’t wait a second as you caught him off guard from the sudden kiss. It gradually became deeper and hands finally roamed under your sweatshirt, feeling the way your skin burned from his touch and sent shivers down your spine. When you were about to pull away to breathe, he rested his hand on your nape preventing your escape. He continued to suck on your bottom lip, causing you to breathe to your nose only for it to fog his glasses.
“Warren, not fair.” By this time you were able to talk as if he moved towards your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses.
“What’s not fair? You started it.” His mouth was already on your neck when you softly moaned his name, despite the warmness of his kisses his glasses were the opposite feeling the cold chill of the metal frames of his glasses.
His remark made you speechless, but to be honest it was the way his touches made you look like a puppet. Only responding to the places he touched you and how much you wanted for more. Your desire made you bold to hold his face and engage in a searing kiss, leaving red lipstick smudge on the side of his lips but he doesn’t have it in him to care, if anything he wanted you to mark his body with your kisses and lipstick.
You sneaked out your phone tucked in your pockets, hypnotizing him from your kiss so he wouldn’t notice it. Before you pull away you peck the tip of his nose, then you hit the camera icon on your phone and angled the phone to take a quick picture.
“Hey! Not fair!” He whined, trying to take away the phone from you, likely had an intention to delete the picture. But you kept flailing your arms accompanied with the sound of laughter that he couldn’t help but melt to.
“Pleaseeee, just let me keep this one.” When he stopped trying to take your phone, you opened the gallery to see the photo you took. “See?!”
His pout turned into an ‘oh’ shape when he saw it. The lighting of the room helped elevate the photo, and him as a subject being in a dazed state with his pupils blown while his face was covered in a red smudged lipstick just made this single photo into a masterpiece. “Now, I have a wallpaper.”
You saw the look on his face, utterly bewildered by how good he looked at the picture you’ve taken made you giggle. How on Earth is he not aware how many girls are jealous of you by just dating him?!
The sound of your laugh muffled by your hand caught his attention. “Fine, you can keep it. But only for yourself.”
“Hmm, I don’t know, I kinda want to print it out and put it all over my room.” Your pointer finger touched your chin as if you’re in a manner of thinking deeply. He chuckled at your teasing that he couldn’t help but pounce you and put you down on the couch.
“Do whatever you want, but I want a picture of you as well.” He softly kissed your collarbone, leaving wet trails of kisses. He slipped his hand under your shirt, almost able to touch the fabric of your brassiere when a car beeped outside his house.
Both of you went still as stone until you heard his mom yelled his name. “Oh, shit.” You muttered under your breath.
“Yeah, let’s continue this upstairs.” He immediately got off of you, both of your hearts hammering against their rib cages from the thought of being caught. Since the sound of the front door creaking open and the hall connected to the living room, you had at least a little time to fix your clothes.
“Warren, have you watered the plants?” His mother’s eyes shifted from her husband to the both of you. “Oh!”
In an awkward laugh, Warren took hold of the situation. “Haha, so, you’ve met my girlfriend before. But we’re going to go upstairs now.”
He took your hand and instantly took off from the scene and headed towards his bedroom. Leaving both of his parents stunned and flustered by how bold their son has become.
The moment both of you were inside of his room, he made sure to close and locked the door. “We totally fooled them.” He said in triumph.
“Baby, you still literally have my lipsticks stained all over your mouth and nose. What makes you think we fooled them?”
“So, what? At least they know I’m loved right?” His cheeky grin was so infectious that you couldn’t help but giggle at what he said. He pulled you by the waist to steal a quick kiss.
“I might have to kiss you all over once we go to school, by the time you walk in the classroom girls might just lose their mind. So I have to remind them I’m your girlfriend or something.” Just imagining it boils down your mood, because if you couldn’t help but go feral over him just thinking about other people…
His pointer finger and thumb softly pinches your chin to make you look at him.“I doubt that, everyone knows I only have eyes for you. Well, four eyes.” You rolled your eyes but your grin couldn’t be wiped from your face.
He’s got a point, though. He always has his eyes for you.
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