it's a vibe

He wakes to sound of rain. It’s dark outside, the streetlights casting a glow in the otherwise dark room. He blinks, stops to turn his head slightly.

Two captivating eyes gleaming in the lights coming through the window meet his. Her smile is soft. The tips of her fingers gently brushing against his chin.

“Good Morning” he barely hears it, it is so soft and so dry. But it’s there and he respond. “Good Morning” with a voice equally dry and hoarse.

They’re silent for a few minutes, laying next to one another, fingers playing with the other indeed the sheets, absentmindedly listening to how their breathing syncs in with the rain. And when he least expects it, she hovers above him.

Holding the cotton sheets against her body, she manages to place a palm to his cheek. He raises his eyebrows in question, instinctively wrapping his fingers with the hair at the crown of her head.

She leans in to kiss him, softly and without a word travels down his neck. He gulps in satisfaction, gently bringing a leg in between her thighs, watching as her breath hitches in her throat and she pulls her lips away.

He’s quick to catch her lips, smiling against hers as she emits a beautiful sound the more aroused she is, with his legs inching higher between her thighs, and the sweet pulling of her bottom lip.

She drops onto him carefully, no longer clutching sheets to her body, freeing herself completely as she lets him take control.

Their eyes meet. She’s biting her lip, mischief and some innocence radiating off her. She’s drowning in his white shirt, the buttons done up tight. With the candles she’s lit he can make out the pink lace covering the most intimate places of her body.

He’s a mixture of his cologne and rain, having come from outside. She arrived minutes prior, kissing his cheek goodbye at the formal gathering they’d gone to, whispering she’d be home waiting. He watched her leave, ball gown trailing behind her, heels in hand, hair flowing behind her.

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, champagne glass in hand, tipping it towards her when she turned her head to smile at him shyly.

He slides his coat off, loosening his toe. She sits at their bed, running her dainty hand over their silk sheets.

They’re eyes meet again, and this time he’s smirking. She’s waiting for him to come closer, practically begging him with the look in her eyes. With a swing of his foot he shuts their bedroom door, sitting before her on the bed, but inches away, just to irk her a little more.

He smirks as she leans towards him, refusing to make the first move. So he gives in, slowly gathering her body onto his lap, smirking as she lets out a faint giggle of triumph.

Her naked legs sink into the bed, wrapping firmly around him as he positions her. She smells like vanilla and rain, with a hint of champagne.

He’s easy with the buttons, exposing her pink lace. The shirt slides off her back and down her arms slowly, as he takes his time running his hands down her arms, as if he’s forgetten the feeling of her cotton like skin.

He lays her down, her body outstretched before him. She lets out a shaky breath before he can even reach out a hand to run down her neck, to her hips.

He’s slow and steady, as if her body is a tree trunk. Having to be felt for every soft, rough and detailed spot. It’s a simple thing, running his digits over half her body, but it’s got her flushed, squirming beneath his touch, clutching onto silk.

How she craves the feeling of him against her.

“Do something” she whispers, catching him off guard as he traces the outline of lace resting atop her hips. He chuckles, hovering above her, leaning down carefully, running his finger softly over her laced lotus, smirking when she gasps, emitting a sound of pleasure.

“That’s something” he whispers. “Hmmm” she responds, arching her neck, melting at the touch of his lips to her softest spot.

He feels her swift fingers working their way to remove the tie he wore. But he doesn’t stop doing something, anything, until she says so.

Outside it pours, but inside all he can hear is the beautiful sounds she makes. All he can feel is her skin against his.

Anon, as someone who adores makeup but is so so lazy and only plays with it on special occasions, this is it. Ugh Grayson would be so funny while you’re perched at your vanity doing your makeup, and he’s just sitting on the bed behind you with furrowed brows while he tries to make suggestions every once in a while. 

First, I also want to say that he’d make the biggest deal about the fact that he has two artistry palettes and the complete brush set while you had the common sense to know that James would be sending you one of his PR packages. But for some reason the fact that Grayson has two is justifiable in his case to make his MUA suggestions. 

“Baby are you going to use ‘Punch Me’ as your transition color? It probably looks so good with you’re skin tone, but I think maybe ‘Pinkity Drinkity’ could look even better with your outfit, are you using the M518 to blend?”

You’d stop everything you’re doing with the first thing he says, turning over your shoulder with wide eyes and an amused look on your face, “Gray… what are you talking about?!”

He’d roll his eyes, “Y/N, I’m serious, James has taught me everything I know, I’m a professional with this shit now. I could do your makeup with my eyes closed. You should see how sharp my wing is.”

“Yeah, okay, Gray… go get dressed for dinner and leave me be.” you wave off, turning back to the vanity, and picking your blending brush back up. 

Grayson would’ve let you go, but the second he sees you swiping your brush across ‘Punch Me’ despite his suggestions, he’s up on his feet and rushing over to snatch the brush from your hold before you can even brush it across your lids. 

“Gray!” you laugh and try to reach for the brush but his height is obviously at an advantage while you stay sitting in your chair. 

“Nope,” he pops when you try to reach for it again, you’re not allowed to play with the palette until you properly know how to use it, “lemme show you how it’s done.”

And he’d grip the back of the chair to turn your body to face him before reaching for the palette that was perched on the table. Immediately he’s in the zone as he tilts his head from side to side studying you. He smiles when it’s been decided on what he’s going to do, and he leans in quickly to kiss your apprehension away before smiling at you.  

“I think we should go bold,” he announces, and immediately dives into the neon yellow ‘Bee’ which, though you won’t admit, does match the jewelry you were planning on wearing with your little black dress. 

Even so, the idea of Grayson packing neon colors on your eyelids had you stretching as far away from him as possible when he drew the brush forward. 

“Gray, I don’t know if bold is necessarily the choice I’d–”