#hibiki

rafe was sat at the edge of your bed, eyes glued to your figure. jaw dropped, a small smirk, and a scrunch between his eyebrows. a lucky man.

“mkay, all done! how do i look?” you spin once, giving a pose and pout.

chuckling and speechless, his hands practically yank you into him and found a comfortable spot, squeezing your ass.

“baby, you look so damn hot,” he looks up at you in disbelief, still groping the flesh of your bottom like a fein.

“it’s not too much?” you look down at yourself and brush out a wrinkle in your top.

“of course it is. too much for those trust fund kooks to see. god, i just wanna keep you here. no one else should get to see ya like this. so so fuckin’ perfect,” he kisses at your arms and trailing to your jaw, pulling you inward against him.

“thank you,” you giggled, holding his head against your chest.

a small step back, he stands up with you and makes you do one more little twirl first before leaving your room.

and just as you’re about to head out the door, you’re already pleading with him to take instagram photos of you.

“rafe, pleaseeee it’ll be real quick. here get the digi,” taking your clutch from him, you dig into it for your digital camera and hand it to him.

“don’t forget what i taught you!” you also shove your phone at him, forcing him to place everything else at the table by the door.

he doesn’t even try to argue—never does, really—even if you were supposed to be early to kelce’s party to pregame.

rafe had one hand holding your phone and the other had your digi pinched between his fingers, switching hands every 30 seconds.

hitting every pose you knew, rafe was clicking away and in awe of your presence. he just cheers you on, trying to get candid laughs and cheeky smiles out of you.

stuff like yes pose for the camera baby, my girl’s a damn model, and look at that beautiful face.

“does this look good?”

he simply hums in agreement.

“promise?” you mutter, running your fingers through your hair to give it more volume.

“yes, i promise. absolutely stunning. keep doing that one— aw yeah, there’s my baby’s pretty face.” he just stands there, grinning like an idiot.

you even moved from the stairs, to the front porch, and finally beside his sleek black car just for these photos. though rafe pretended to be annoyed by playing photographer, the truth was he loved every second of watching you in your element— looking as painlessly hot as you always do.

“you look so fuckin’ beautiful, baby,” he gives a shit-eating asshole smug. “all mine later to f-”

you immediately stop posing and step over, snatching your phone and digi from him.

“alright, that’s enough. let’s go.” rolling your eyes when he just laughs wickedly, slapping your butt as you walk past.

opening the car door for you, he takes your hand to help you in, holding back his laughter.