he feels privileged to have you by his side; to call you his, like he’s won the damn lottery.
every time you’re in a crowd — whether it’s at a party, having dinner at sunset at the country club, or with your friend group — he always needs to make it known that you’re his and having his hands all over you.
he’ll always have that smirk on his face, the small smile that just lets everyone know he’s him. he lucked out and no one can top him in any way, shape, or form.
like you’d come back from the country club’s bar, sunset radiating beautiful shades of orange, pink, and blue on your skin. he opens his arms to welcome you back to your group with a, “hey, baby.”
he takes a drink out of your hand — his — takes your free hand and twirls you around, your floor length silk dress, whirling around your ankles. he’d wrap that arm around your waist, making you turn around with your back to his chest. the other arm free to hold his drink, eyes scanning the rest of the area making sure everyone knows you’re his.
some possessive part of him wants everyone looking at the both of you. wants everyone to see his arm around you, daring anyone to waltz up to the both of you and compliment you or him, ready to rub into their idiotic minds that you’re his and he is yours.
he tenses the arm around you at the thoughts running through his mind. it somewhat gets him off that no one else can have you, that he’s parading you around town, that he is showing you off in front of everyone’s faces and they can’t do a goddamn thing about it.
he smirks into his drink, not paying any attention to whatever conversation you’re having with whatever stuck up assholes are trying to pique your interest. he swallows his drink, then moves his head to behind your ear, and gives a few chaste one-two-three kisses letting you know that he’s all but thinking about you.
you’re so beautiful, it hurts. he’s so fucking proud to have you on his arm, no matter what. your laugh interrupts his thoughts and he, once again, licks his lips, presses them together and just smiles.
something about the first gif makes me wanna clench my thighs and whimper like yes yes yes get mad at me, get angry with me, get irritated with me so badly that you have to roll your eyes at me like I’m too dumb to understand what you’re trying to say
all of them though. seeing rafe get visibly upset and have that cocky attitude and a smile, makes me want to literally fucking swallow him whole mmmph
