#bin our moon

[jungkxook]

in disbelief about moonbin💔

[moonbinu]

230126 Astro Twitter Update | Jinjin

생일축하한다 브라더!! 이번년도에 좋은 일만 가득할거야!!ㅎㅎ 같이 파이팅해서 행복한 한해 만들어보자!!! #아스트로 #문빈 #생일 #축하해 #아로하의_빛나는달_빈아_생일축하해 #진진 [Happy Birthday Brother!! I hope this year will be filled with only good things!! haha Let's cheer up and make it a happy year together!!! #ASTRO #Moonbin #Happy #Birthday #Aroha's_ShiningMoon_Binah_HappyBirthday #Jinjin]

아.. 아니.. [Ah.. No..]

속상하네.. 인터넷 무슨일이야.. [I’m upset.. what’s wrong with the internet..]

(he wanted to greet Bin at 1:26 but it was posted at 1:27 because his internet was slow 🥲)

[myheartisforeign]

[hangin-out-with-the-street-rats]

this cant be real right , we couldnt have lost him ... right ... please someone tell me this is all just a cruel joke ......please.

[cheolbinsart]

🌟 A͜͡S͜͡T͜͡R͜͡O͜͡ S͜͡c͜͡h͜͡e͜͡d͜͡u͜͡l͜͡e͜͡ 🌟

📆 09 - 15 January 2023

⚠️Scheduled activities below may be subject to change depending on the ASTRO members' individual schedules ; changes/updates to be posted once confirmed

📢 YOON SANHA is currently quarantined after testing positive of Covid 19 <Get well soonest, our Ddana **hugs**)

📆 09 January 2023

⚗️ 11:00 AM KST

Day 1 for INKIGAYO x KPOP FAN VOTING

#MOONBIN_SANHA are currently on 1st Place !!!

💬 Voting ends on 11 January 2023 11:00 AM KST

📲 https://mubeat.page.link/8q7C

🖇 http://mubeat.tv/board/#board-body

--

📆 10 January 2023

🥀 11:00 AM KST

MOONBIN&SANHA on hello82 : MV Reaction

🖇 Watch MOONBIN&SANHA react to spicy MVs for the first time and they'll do some challenges

🎥 youtu.be/1g8oJzyUXs0

⚗️ 9:00 PM KST

Siblings, ASTRO's MOON BIN and BILLIE's MOON SUA will be on MBC Variety Show, 'Family Register Mate | DNA MATE' (호적 메이트)

Stream Links :

🎥 tvniu.com/tv/mbc.html (HW-SD/HD270P)

🎥 tv.luvkpop.com/channel/MBC/ (choose the 2nd🎞️ and choose MBC)

🎥 onair.imbc.com (this requires VPN)

🎥 webtv.dothome.co.kr/index.php (choose MBC)

--

📆 12 January 2023

⚗️🥀 10:30 PM KST

ASTRO MOON BIN on 'Story of the Day When You Bite Your Tail' (SBS 꼬리에 꼬리를 무는 그날 이야기)

🖇 https://www.instagram.com/p/CnMOyI2J1jH/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

📢 Will try to provide stream links in case I find one

--

📆 13 January 2023

🌟 12:00 PM KST

'#ISLAND' K-Drama EPS. 05 - 06

📲 TVING App and Prime Video App

--

📆 15 January 2023

🥀 3:50 PM KST

SBS Inkigayo - ASTRO #문빈_산가 '#Madness' Stage

🎬 https://aqstream.com/sbs/Inkigayo

🎬 https://aqstream.com/ko/sbs/Inkigayo

🎬 https://www.twitch.tv/noctaq

🎬 https://www.twitch.tv/snlive1?sr=a

⚗️ MOONBIN&SANHA 'INCENSE' Makestar Fansigns

🥀 6:30 PM KST - Face to Face (30 Fans)

🥀 (after face-to-face fansign) - Virtual (20 Fans)

^^^^^^

📢🔊 CANCELLED Schedules :

📆 10 January 2023

MOONBIN_SANHA radio show guesting on GOT7 Youngjae's Best Friend

🖇 https://www.instagram.com/p/CnJ-eMTru9K/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

📆 12 January 2023

🥀 9:00 PM KST

MOONBIN&SANHA 'INCENSE' MMT Virtual Fansign (20 Fans)

🥀 10:00 PM KST

MOONBIN&SANHA 'INCENSE' Withmuu Virtual Fansign (20 Fans)

📆 13 January 2023

MOONBIN&SANHA radio show guesting on KBS Cool FM - BTOB Kiss The Radio

🖇 https://www.instagram.com/p/CnJ9iYbp-sY/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

📆 14 January 2023

⚗️ MOONBIN&SANHA 'INCENSE' Apple Music Fansigns

🥀 (TBA) - Face to Face (30 Fans)

🥀 (TBA) - Virtual (20 Fans)

[skybluelatte]

Happy Birthday Moonbin!!!💜🐱💜

[sadclowncentral]

IN EVENT OF MOON DISASTER - speech written by Bill Saffire for the Apollo XI space flight, in the event the astronauts were stranded on the Moon and could not return to Earth. (source)

Transcript under the cut

To : H. R. Halderman

From: Bill Safire

July 18, 1969

IN EVENT OF MOON DISASTER:

Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace. These brave men, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin, know that there is no hope for their recovery. But they also know that there is hope for mankind in their sacrifice. These two men are laying down their lives in mankind's most noble goal: the search for truth and understanding. They will be mourned by their families and friends; they will be mourned by their nation; they will be mourned by the people of the world; they will be mourned by a Mother Earth that dared send two of her sons into the unknown. In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to fees as one; in their sacrifice, they bin more tightly the brotherhood of man. In ancient day, men looked at stars and saw their heroes in the constellations. In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes are epic men of flesh and blood. Others will follow, and surely find their way home. Man's search will not be denied. But these men were the first, and they will remain the foremost in our hearts. For every human being who looks up at the moon in the nights to come will know that there is some corner of another world that is forever mankind.

PRIOR TO THE PRESIDENT'S STATEMENT:

The President should telephone each of the widows-to-be.

AFTER THE PRESIDENT'S STATEMENT, AT THE POINT WHEN NASA ENDS COMMUNICATIONS WITH THE MEN:

A clergyman should adopt the same procedure as a burial at sea, commending their souls to "the deepest of the deep" concluding with the Lord's Prayer.

[gretavangroupie]

Edible

Word count: 16.0k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Drugs. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink (if you squint), Cum Play. Major Fluff.

A/N: The very last part of our four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Jake's story to wrap things up! Thank you so much for reading these one shots over the last few weeks, maybe we will do it again soon! ❤️

Usually, Valentine’s day wasn’t a holiday that bothered you. As a single person in your mid 20’s, it’s almost expected that you dread the 14th of February. The years before and between relationships never bothered you, but as you slip into your pajamas at 7:50pm on a Friday night that also happens to be Valentine’s day, the realization that you’re alone hits a little harder.

You shuffle down the stairs in your slippers and matching PJ set, your destination being the bottle of red wine in the fridge. As you stand in front of the door and look at the dry erase calendar on your freezer, you avoid acknowledging the little heart you drew around the number 14 when you were clearly in better spirits. You also happen to see the little sticker that lives permanently above the column of Fridays. Trash day.

Letting your head fall back, you groan at the ceiling before turning on your heel towards the trash can. Lifting the half-full bag out and tying it off, you consider whether or not you really need to take the bin out to the curb… It’s so, so cold, and you’ve had a tough day already.

Shaking your head, you pull yourself out of your thoughts and decide to grow up. You get moving and elbow the door open, wincing as the cold air hits your skin. The short sleeve shirt and matching shorts combination are really not on your side at this moment as you jog down the four stairs towards the spot where your trash bins live. 

It’s a minute of wrestling before you get the bag in and flip the top closed, grabbing the handle and beginning to wheel it towards the end of your driveway. The rattling of the plastic wheels is so damn loud you feel like you’re waking up half your neighborhood. Oh, wait. They’re probably all out for Valentine’s day. You can’t help but roll your eyes as you kick the bin upright and position it on the patch of grass near the curb.

As you’re about to turn and head inside, you hear rumbling coming from across the street. When you raise your head and try to focus despite the limited light from the streetlamps and the clouded moon, you see your neighbor from across the street. For a moment you feel a little vulnerable in your pajama set, legs bare and no bra, but then you see he’s shirtless, a thin bathrobe over his shoulders and down his back, but it’s hanging open, giving way to show you his tanned chest and stomach. His sweatpants are hanging sinfully low on his hips, and even though you’re all the way across the street, you can see there’s just a tiny bit of hair peeking out from above his waistband.

He has his head down as he does almost the same exact thing you did- he shimmies the bin into position on the curb and makes sure it’s closed tight, left with some defense against the wind. His hair is in a low, messy bun, some stray strands of hair framing his face. 

As you stare at him from the shadows across the street, realizing you’re probably giving off way weirder vibes than intended, you think back on when you’ve seen him and try to remember his face. As you think, there’s a silhouette of a cat in his front window, a warm glow behind it. And then the memory comes to you.

There was one afternoon when you had first moved in, the summer, seven or eight months ago. He came and knocked on your door, a pair of sunglasses on, his shirt unbuttoned and paired with some breezy linen pants. You answered the door in confusion, but were friendly regardless.

“Hi. I’m, uh, I’m Jake. I’m your neighbor. I live across the street?” He said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. 

“Right, right. Hey. I’m Y/N.” You answered with a slightly concerned smile. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, um,” he started, wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger as he gathered his thoughts. You watched as he crossed his arms over his chest in almost a nervous habit. 

“Do you wanna come in?” You offered, but he shook his head no, waving you off casually.

“No, no. I actually just have a weird and maybe cumbersome favor to ask of you.” He said, his confidence building as the conversation went on. You raised your eyebrows, a little confused, but wordlessly encouraging him to go on.

“There’s this cat that lives in my house and I usually leave him with my brother’s girl when I travel, but she’s actually tagging along, so I’m kind of in a pinch and need someone to feed the thing.” He said. You gave him a look of playful confusion.

“That’s a weird way to say you have a cat.” You quipped, laughing.

“I’m not keeping it! I just don’t want it to get hungry or get hit by a car or something.” He said, laughing through his words. Before you can poke any more fun at him, he keeps talking.

“He’s a grazer, so he really just needs his big ass bowl refilled once a day and he’ll be fine,” he said, flashing you a little smile. “And water.”

You considered it for a moment, but he had such a way about him that there was no way you would be able to say no.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. For how long?” You asked, leaning on the door frame. He fished out a key from his pocket, handing it over as he spoke. It was brass and there was a little soccer ball keychain attached. 

“Just for the weekend. I’ll be back Sunday night.” He said with a little excitement in his voice. Holding his spare key in your hand, you nodded and gave him a polite smile.

“I can do that. For sure.” You reassured him as he leaned from foot to foot, almost like he had somewhere to be. 

“I fed him just now and I’m about to head out, but when you go in, the kitchen is on the left and his bowl is there. The food is in the bin with… with the food. It’s clear so… you can see it.” He said, taking a few steps backwards. “He also bites, but he’ll probably hide from you anyway, so don’t sweat it!” He added, jogging down the two stairs to the sidewalk. 

“O-okay!” You answered, perplexed but charmed. He shouted across the road to thank you before he hopped into his car and backed out of his driveway.

When you eventually went over to his house the next day, you opened the door cautiously, not wanting to sneak up on the cat who you were warned would bite you. After a moment of wondering why you agreed to this, you shrugged and pushed the door open gently. As if the cat was waiting for Jake himself but then realized it was you, he went flying by so quickly you only heard the thump of his paws and the jingle of his collar. Your eyes almost immediately found the big bowl in the kitchen, sitting in the middle of a little placemat. ‘DAVY’ was etched into the porcelain, so you figured it had to be his. Like Jake mentioned, there was the bin of food about a foot away. 

You didn’t see the cat a single time that weekend. Sunday morning, after you fed him the last time, you left the key on the hook near Jake’s front door and locked it from the inside. You didn’t hear from him, but one day when you got home from work, there was a bottle of wine on your welcome mat with a card underneath, wax sealed with care. Inside, you found a card with a short note of thanks and his name signed in indigo ink. 

You’re pulled back to the present as a car flies down your street, headlights flashing in your peripherals. The light pulls his attention too, and it’s seconds before he notices you across the street. He raises one open hand, giving you a casual wave. You smile and wave your hand back and forth, a polite, neighborly greeting. 

“Look at you, all dressed up. Big plans tonight?” He says, projecting his voice all the way across the street. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, realizing he’s absolutely calling you out for being outside in your pajamas. 

“Oh! Ha. Yeah.” you say, the laugh incredibly forced, your nerves turning you into an awkward, stiff mess. Freezing cold, nervous, and a little embarrassed, you give him another quick wave and scurry inside your house, disappearing. You close the door and snatch the bottle of wine from your fridge, taking the bottle and glass with you into the living room. 

You practically dive under the blanket on your sofa and wrap it around you in a hurry. As you reach for the bottle of wine and pour yourself a little glass, you hear your phone buzz from somewhere in the couch cushions. Fishing it out from under your thigh and some layers of blanket, you squint and turn the brightness down immediately.

You have a few notifications from instagram and other apps, and one text from an unsaved number.

???

8:08pm: Sorry for being weird, lol

It has to be Jake. You hop up from the couch and shuffle to the bulletin board and dry-erase calendar on your freezer to see the torn piece of paper pinned to it. Comparing the two numbers, you confirm it’s the same. That leaves you frozen as you try to figure out how to respond.

You

8:10pm: Oh no worries, you were right. I’m clearly staying in tonight 🍷

When you get back to the couch, nuzzling yourself back under your blankets, you look over your shoulder and out the window at his house. There are a few lights on and the cat’s silhouette has disappeared from the window.

You decide to save his number quickly before finally taking a few sips of your wine. 

Jake - Neighbor

8:13pm: Likewise. I’m about to take an edible and spend the rest of my romantic evening falling down a youtube wormhole. 

Laughing, you think of something clever to send back. It takes a while because everything you come up with seems to be toeing the line of flirty and friendly. 

You

8:17pm: Sounds fun... If you open your curtains a little more I could probably watch along. 🙂

Jake - Neighbor

8:20pm: Or you could accompany me down said wormhole, meaning we both won’t have to lie about being alone on Valentine’s day tomorrow?

You’re immediately conflicted. This guy is your neighbor, and although he seems friendly, this feels like the beginning of a terrible Hallmark movie or even worse, one that went straight to Netflix. You think about the invitation as you stare at your glass of wine on the coffee table next to your kindle. It couldn’t hurt to just go hang out for a little while… right? It would be good to get to know him. Maybe you could convince him to mow your lawn over the summer or something.

Not to mention he’s cute. Your mind flashes back to the way he looked glowing under the streetlights, his messy bun and the tan line on his hips that you need to stop thinking about before your mouth begins to water. 

You

8:21pm: Lol are you serious? I don’t want to intrude 

You bite at your lip nervously, waiting for him to reply. The little bubbles that indicate he’s typing make your stomach churn as you look over your shoulder and out the window once more. There’s a little bit of a glow coming from the other side of his house now and you see his shadow move across the window.

Jake - Neighbor

8:22pm: It’s not intruding if I’m inviting you. 

It doesn’t take much convincing on his end, if any. You down the last of your wine for courage and ditch the blanket on the couch. Heading up the stairs, you grab the cardigan you left hanging over the banister and pick out something to wear. The matching jammies clearly aren’t appropriate, but you don’t want to dress like you’re trying too hard. 

You

8:25pm: Should I bring anything?

Standing in your closet for a few minutes, you ultimately land on a pair of yoga pants and an old t-shirt, a soft baby blue Rush tee with the band’s name spelled out in big, rainbow bubble letters. It was once your dad’s, but lives in your wardrobe as a slightly cropped version now.

Jake - Neighbor

8:26pm: Nope. Just yourself. Need the address? 😉

Pulling on the cardigan, you tug the back of it down a little to assure you’re not showing up with your ass on display from the get-go. You stand at the door with nothing but your phone and keys, bracing yourself for however this Valentine’s night is about to go.

You

8:28pm: I think I remember how to get there. I’m on my way 🙂

—

You pull your sleeves down over your hands as you climb the steps to his porch, the freezing cold wind whipping through your cardigan as if it wasn’t even there. You rap your knuckles against the wooden door, a small wave of nerves rushing through your body as you wait for him to answer. You hear his footfall against the wooden floors as he makes his way to the door, and as he opens it you feel a rush of warmth as the heat from inside blows past you. 

His eyes subconsciously look you over and as he realizes he pulls his eyes away, letting them dart around for a few seconds before landing on your face. He offers a shy grin and swallows down his nerve. “Any trouble finding the place?” he jokes, giving you a small glimpse of his real smile. 

“Oh yeah, traffic was awful...” you quip back, watching his full smile bloom across his face. 

“Come in, come in. I know it’s cold out there.” he says, ushering you inside. The house is very different from the last time you’d seen it. More art on the walls, a new rug or two, and most importantly there were lights on. A fire is going in the fireplace, the logs crackling drawing you into his home further.

“Your home is beautiful. I’m suddenly insanely jealous that I don't have a fireplace.” you smile, gesturing towards the beautiful brick hearth. 

“Thanks, I try to do what I can here and there. What’s a home if you can’t enjoy the time you spend in it…” he ponders, suddenly flicking his attention back to you. “I could…show you around if you want, it’s kind of a mess at the moment…” he pauses, rubbing his fingers over his lips as his eyes scan the room. You can tell he is feeling put on the spot and your chest warms at his underlying hospitality. 

“That’s okay, I know you were totally not planning on having a guest.” you laugh, hoping to ease his anxiety. 

“Yeah, I’m not here too often, and when I am, things kind of get strewn around and forgotten. It’s actually a fluke that I’m here now. Which brings me back to the part about enjoying the house while I’m here.” he says, trying to unnecessarily justify his lived in space. 

Your mind wanders as you recall his empty driveway the past few weeks, and you try to piece together if you ever remember him mentioning what he does for work, or why he’s gone so often. You hardly ever see him coming and going, just the glow from his windows on rare occasions.

He pulls you from your thoughts and you refocus on him, realizing that he too, has changed into different clothes. He’s added a slightly wrinkled black button down shirt to a pair of equally as wrinkled khaki pants, rolled at the ankle. To anyone else this would seem like a strange choice to hang out on the couch, but on him it seemed fitting, almost like these were his relaxing clothes. 

“Can I get you anything to drink, or?” he asks, gesturing towards the kitchen, a tiny little sliver of his stomach peeking from beneath the frayed hem, showcasing an unseasonably dark tan.

“Sure, um I will take some water?” you squeak out, trying to pretend you weren’t just staring at his waist. 

“Okay, you can just… sit wherever. I'll be right back.” he says nodding towards the couch. He walks off into the kitchen as you venture into his living room, the fireplace providing the perfect ambience for such a cold night. His couch isn’t huge, but it does seem comfortable. A few throw pillows are tossed to one side, giving you the hint that he was previously occupying the other side. You move a few of the pillows towards the center and position yourself at the opposite side on the chaise lounge, as you let your eyes glance around the room. The walls are dark and covered with art, and bookshelves line most of the walls. A large TV sits just to the left of the fireplace, the video he was previously watching paused and awaiting his return. 

You relax into the couch cushions, closing your eyes and listening to the perfect crackling sound of the fireplace. The glass of wine from earlier is seeping into your bones and you’re suddenly feeling just a little bit more relaxed. Jake returns a few seconds later, offering you a glass filled to the brim with ice water. 

“I didn’t know if you wanted ice or not, so I just made it how I like it.” he says, falling back into his place on the couch. He tosses a few of the throw pillows between you, down onto the ground so that there is less of a barrier, before kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. 

“Where’s your little kitty cat?” you ask, turning to face him. “Or did you find him a home after all…”

“Who? Ol’ Davy Jones?” he asks, an air of underlying affection in his tone. “Ahh, that little vagrant is around here somewhere. Truthfully, I just haven’t even had time to think about finding him a home.”

You smile because you can tell he is lying. “That’s funny, because it’s been what? Almost a year now?”

“Has it… Hmmm.” he says, staring off into space. “I’m sure he’ll be around, he’s a curious little thing.” 

“You know they say that you shouldn’t name pets that you don’t plan to keep…” you press, raising an eyebrow in challenge. 

“Well…” he pauses. You can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to piece together an excuse. “He wasn’t responding to ‘hey you feline’, so I was practically forced into giving him a name. You know how these things go. I really am going to find him a good home one of these days when I have the time.”

You nod your head with a smile, as he shakes his own head, stifling back a guilty grin. 

“So that is why he has a food bowl with his name on it, right?” 

“Aye, aye, what’s with the twenty questions, hm?” he barks, tossing a throw pillow towards you. You catch it and hug it to your chest, resettling into your place. 

“Oh, no reason. Just trying to get to know my neighbor and his cat, that’s all.” you say with a cheeky smile. 

“He’s not my cat. He just lives in my house.” he says finally, feigning arrogance. “Anyways, tell me about you…”

“Not a whole lot to know, I just moved here, well almost a year ago now, for work. I go to work, come home, watch trashy TV and cook, and sometimes on the weekends I catch some friends at the bar. I also occasionally feed my neighbor's cat. Oh, and spend most holidays alone, which is how I ended up here.” you laugh, not wanting to give too much away. 

“Well, I’m glad that you did, I’m rather enjoying having company for once. Listen, I was serious about the edible if you…” he trails off, nervously licking over his lips.

“Oh, yeah of course. Let’s do it.”

He stands from the couch, walking across the room and rummaging around in a backpack on the floor. The first thing he pulls out is an eyeglass case, tucking it under his arm. Then he reaches back in, searching for a moment more, before he pulls out a small black bag and returns to the couch, opening it up as he sits. He places the black glasses case on the table, then picks it up again, making sure there are actually glasses inside before closing it and putting it aside for later.

“Oh Jesus, Josh…” he mutters under his breath. He licks his lips and turns to look at you. “Okay, so, apparently they are peach ring gummies. My brother gave them to me, but didn’t specify the variety.”

“That’s actually fine, I love peach rings.” you blush. 

“Really? Okay, good. I thought–” he stops himself with a smile. “Okay, ladies first, how much do you want?

“Um, how much are you gonna have?” you ask, letting your eyes flick up to his. 

“Dunno…” he says, inspecting the bag for the details. “Okay, probably half. You think you can do half, or do you want a quarter?”

“I think it should be an even playing field, I’ll do half if you do half.” you answer. 

“Whatever you say…” he says with a smile, trying to pull apart the sticky yellow and orange gummy. It stretches beyond belief and he stops. “Okay, so. I think you’re going to have to bite it.”

“Are you sure?” you ask hesitantly. 

“Yeah, it’s no big deal, you just take half and I’ll take the rest.” he says, leaning over to place it in your hand. You bring it to your lips, biting half of the gummy with your eyes locked on him. He doesn’t dare blink as he watches your mouth, the sugar crystals collecting on your lips. You see him swallow as you pull it from your lips and hand the remainder back to him. He quickly pops it into his mouth and starts to chew. 

Both of you look at each other as you swallow it down, sour looks on both of your faces as the flavor of the strain shines through. 

“That was… not my favorite gummy I’ve ever had.” he winces, clearing his mouth of the flavor. 

“I think it was okay…I’ve definitely had worse.” you laugh, taking a sip from your glass of water. 

“I can’t believe I traded my good blunts for that.” he says, thinking back with a shake of his head. “So, what do you think we should watch? A movie? A TV show? Youtube?” he rattles off. 

“What would you watch if I wasn’t sitting here right now?” you ask, leaning your body into the arm rest. 

His demeanor quickly changes, his cheeks blushing and his tone growing a bit bashful. “If you weren’t here? Um, probably just youtube videos.” he answers, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. 

“Okay, but what kind of youtube videos? What fascinates you…”

He fidgets with the buttons on the remote, trying to decide if he should lie or be honest. His eyes flick up to the TV, then over to you. “Mostly history stuff, like old shipwrecks and stuff. Or maybe sailing videos or guitar videos, I don’t know.”

You can tell he chose to be honest, his fingers still scratching at the buttons on the remote as he waits to see what you’re going to say. 

“Okay so do it. Show me your favorite shipwreck. Enlighten me a little…”

“Really?” he asks, a look of shock painted across his face. 

“Yeah, why not? I like that kind of stuff too. It’s interesting.”

“Yeah, yeah it is really interesting. Okay, hold on.” he grins, clicking the remote to life and returning to youtube. He scrolls to his favorites and makes his way through what has to be a hundred videos, until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Alright, I know this is a little bit boring at the beginning, but I swear it gets better. I actually learned about this first hand at this little museum in the UK last year, and I really fixated on it, and had to immediately consume every piece of media I could find about it. If you hate it we can turn it off, it’s just… really cool if you can make it through it.” he explains, and you smile watching his eyes light up talking about it. 

You smile and nod as he clicks on the video titled, ‘Ghosts of the Mary Rose’. He settles back into the couch, balancing the remote on his knee, and slinging his arm across the back of the couch. You can’t help but notice the proximity of his fingertips as they rest just inches away from your shoulder. The fireplace is still roaring, and the edible is starting to kick in, and you come to terms with the fact there is no place you’d rather be than sitting here learning about this old boat.

Oddly enough, Jake wasn’t wrong. This was one of the cooler shipwrecks you’d learned about, and the fact that he saw it in person made it even better. He proceeded to talk through most of the video, further extrapolating on the points they were making, but explaining them better, in a way that was so purely Jake. 

It was clear history was a passion of his, his eyes simply glowing with pride as he spoke about what he knew about this wreck and others similar. You could tell that he was dying for someone, just anyone, to ask him a single question about it, and tonight, you gave him that and more. 

You wondered if he had people in his life that indulged him on this regularly, or if he kept it bottled up inside. The way he spoke about it so quickly, stumbling over his words just to get them out, had you thinking that maybe it was the latter, and you suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of him ever feeling lonely. 

After what had to be an hour or so, the gummy had met its full potential in your bloodstream. The two of you sat almost mute, staring at the TV screen as he selected videos for you to dive into, but little did he know that it wasn’t the TV you were fixated on. It was the glaring image of his hands as they reflected into the mirror hanging over his fireplace. You watched as they moved, the way his fingers wielded the remote, and the way his fingers would twitch every so often, quickly stifled back by the folding of his hands. You stopped yourself from turning your head to look at them, knowing that if you did you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away. 

They seemed large. Slightly larger than the average man’s hands, but they also seemed well manicured. Perfectly manicured actually, as if they were his top priority in his grooming habits. His nails were perfectly trimmed, no nicks or cuts, just perfectly tanned hands that tapped away against his thighs. You pulled your eyes away from the mirror to reach for your water, the dry mouth starting to take effect. 

You drank down half of the glass, and you could almost feel his eyes on you as you did so. You placed the glass back down, and allowed yourself one look at him, finding that you were correct in the feeling of his eyes fixed on you. His entire mood had shifted, you could tell he was feeling completely relaxed as he lounged on his couch. His eyes were a little red, slightly droopier than usual, and his cheeks flushed pink. His legs were crossed on the coffee table, and his bare foot bobbed along to the sound of the video playing in the background. 

You’re not sure if it's the fireplace, the edible, or the man sitting next to you devouring you with his eyes, but you start to feel warm and need to remove your sweater before you burst into flames. You pull the knitted fabric over your arms, and toss it to the floor, leaving you in just your cut off tee, and you swear you see his eyes widen a bit as he takes in the sight of your torso.

In the silence, you hear a faint jingling. He doesn’t seem to notice, but you do, and your eyes shoot to the entryway. His cat trots into the room, probably only expecting Jake, but as soon as he lays eyes on you, he puffs up and hops straight up into the air, then bolts back the way he came, his paws skittering across the floor in a flurry.

The sound makes Jake’s head turn, pulling his eyes from your body and over towards the source of the noise.

“Oh my god, he’s real…” You say in amazement, a smile creeping onto your lips. Jake rolls his eyes at the cat’s dramatics, leaning back to see if he can catch where he went.

“Daaaavvvyyyy…” he calls out in a faux-cockney accent, his voice low and gravelly, rumbling through the house. You would be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make your stomach flip.

“He’s not a fan of me, I don’t think.” You comment, looking in the direction the tiny black cat ran. 

“Don’t think he likes anyone but me, honestly. Bites and scratches the absolute hell out of my brother’s girlfriend whenever she watches him for me.” He says with a chuckle, craning his neck to try and see the cat. He makes a quiet pspspsps sound, but Davy is nowhere to be seen or heard.

“When I found ‘em, he was under a dumpster behind a… a bar.” He says, sitting back up to look at you. “He was practically shouting at me as I walked by, like he was calling for help. So I walked over thinking it was like, a fuckin’ baby or something. I don’t know.”

You grin as he tells the story, which you’re finding quite endearing. 

“He called you over? Oh, he’s bold.” 

“Sure is. So I wrapped him up in my shirt and put him in the passenger seat… he seemed too little to eat the crunchy little cat food, so I went to the store and got some milk… I didn’t fuckin’ know what to do.” He chuckles and itches his nose, his eyes flicking to yours as he realizes you’re invested in the story and listening with bated breath. 

“We got home and he drank some… had a little milk mustache and everything. He seemed to feel better when I got him into the heat, so I made him a deal. He could sleep in the bathroom for the night if he hit the road and left town the next morning.”

“I see that worked out.” You quip, giving him a knowing smile.

“Yeah, the five-pound rapscallion didn’t hold up his end. Owes me a thousand souls now.” 

You hum with raised brows as you nod, letting him go on. 

“I actually…” he starts, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket he taps and scrolls as he talks. “I actually woke up the next morning and caught the poor thing asleep in a pair of me old dirty trousers.” He says, a little bit of that accent slipping in again. He turns his phone around and shows you a photo of Davy curled into a tiny ball inside a pair of patchwork denim pants, a few different shades of blue.

“Oh my god…” you mumble, popping out your bottom lip.

“Lookit his tail over his nose. How was I supposed to show ‘em the door?” He says, flashing you a grin. 

“But you’re still gonna rehome him, huh?” You shoot in his direction, your tone accusatory.

“Should we watch something else? Got any requests?” he asks, gesturing toward the TV with the remote.

“Mmm, you said you liked guitar videos, right? What’s your favorite guitar video of all time?” you ask, crossing your ankles as you stretch out on the chaise. 

“That is quite the loaded question, lass.” he quips, tapping the remote to his lips. His full, pink, totally kissable lips. Wait, he’s your neighbor. You have to stop. 

“Can you narrow it down to a genre?” he asks, flicking his eyes over to you. He takes a deep breath and bites his lips together waiting for your answer. 

“How about…I don’t know, rock? Rock n’ Roll, specifically.” you smirk. 

“I know a thing or two.” he chuckles, scrolling through his favorites. 

“Ahh, okay this one. This one right here. This man was instrumental in my–” he stops, clearing his throat. “He is one of the greatest musicians I’ve ever witnessed.” he finishes.

“Oh, who is it?” you ask, watching him select the video. 

“Pete Townshend.” he answers, starting the video. “He is an incredible guitarist, but that isn’t what makes him great in my opinion. He has this special ability to write insanely powerful rock songs where the guitar isn’t the main focus, or even the main instrument. His work with The Who is just… He isn’t flashy just for the show of it, because he didn’t have to be. His skill speaks for itself and that in itself is an accomplishment.”

“Wow, you know a lot about him. Would you say he is your favorite, then?” you ask. 

“Ahh, I don’t know. I have a lot of favorites. A lot of influences I suppose. Lots of people who shaped me.” he answers, and slowly but surely you start to realize he is letting you know him more and more with each passing second, and you’re hanging on his every word. 

“Shaped you?” you ask, trying to squeeze yourself through the tiny crack in his armor. 

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom. You need anything while I’m up?” he says, standing up slowly and effectively shutting you out. His half smile is a little guilty, which tells you he’s well aware of what he just did. 

“I’m okay.” You answer, giving him a knowing smile as he shuffles out of the room, the sound of his bare feet on the hardwood the only sound under the music playing quietly from the tv.

It’s a minute or two before he gets back and this time when he comes to sit on the couch, he lays across the cushions on his stomach, grabbing the pillow to your left and tucking it between his arm and his head. He’s so, so close to you now, the smell of his shampoo making its way over to you when he nuzzles his head against the pillow. Once he’s completely comfortable, he takes a deep breath and then speaks softly.

“I’m a musician. So. When I said ‘shaped me,’ I meant it almost literally.” His voice sounds a little different when his cheek is smushed into the throw pillow.

“So I’m guessing you play guitar?” you say, blinking up at the TV as the man on the screen’s fingers crawl across the frets.

“I do.” He says it simply, but not in a way that’s short. You look down at his right hand, bent at the elbow and holding on to the pillow. At this distance, you can see there’s a little indent around his middle finger, like he wears a ring of some sort.

“I don’t really have any… creative talents. So I think that’s really impressive.” Your words are quiet and you’re trying to coax him back out of his shell. He lifts his head from the pillow, and when he’s looking up at you from below, his glassy brown eyes are enough to make your heart melt. You have to blink a few times through the brain fog to really focus on them, and when you do, your pulse quickens.

“I’m sure that’s not true. What do you do?” He asks softly, and luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re staring at him.

“It’s very true. I’m an accountant.” You answer, laugh bubbling out of you at the absurdity of it all. “Literally the opposite of creative.” 

He breaks into a grin, laughing with you for a second or two, and you think it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. 

“...Alright. You got me there. We can watch something else…” He says, looking for the remote, and you mourn the loss of eye contact. 

“No, no! I wanted you to pick something you’d watch even if I wasn’t here, and you did. Plus, I kinda like your commentary. This stuff is all new to me.” You say, and he chuckles softly. He rests his head on the pillow again, his arm grazing yours unintentionally. He pays it no mind.

“If you say so.” 

After another two videos accompanied by Jake’s narration, you find yourself so hungry, you think you might be withering away. When there’s a lull in his commentary, you whisper into the dim room from behind him. 

“Is it normal to feel like I need a snack so urgently I might pass away?” 

He stretches a little, rolling over to look at you again. You give him a slow smile, your eyes squinting as your cheeks push them closed. 

“I can go see what I have… It’s been a minute since I’ve been home but there’s probably–”

“No!” You interject, sitting up a little more. He jumps at the motion, a little startled. “I have this tray of chocolate covered strawberries in my fridge! My coworker called in today, and her boyfriend sent her like two dozen of them, so obviously I brought them home.” 

“Oh hell yeah.” He answers, smiling back at you. 

“I’ll be right back!” You say excitedly, hopping off the couch and swiping your keys off the table. You quickly slip on your shoes and head for the front door, darting out into the cold night. 

It’s not long before you’re kicking the refrigerator door shut and sneaking back out into the windy February air. As you cross the street you see his door open, and once you’re close enough, you duck inside. He takes the box from you right away as he shuts the door.

After putting it down on the table near his front door, he reaches for your bare arms, rubbing them to warm you up. He laughs softly as you smile up at him.

“You didn’t bring your sweater, you absolute maniac…” he chides playfully, and you laugh in response, a chill running up your spine. His hands are so warm and his presence so comforting that you find yourself resisting the urge to wrap yourself up in him.

“I didn’t think it would be that cold.” you mumble, trying to keep your teeth from chattering.

“Oh, you thought the cold snap had just let up suddenly?” he asks with a sarcastic inflection, and you roll your eyes with a smile as he lets go of your arms. “Figured it was probably a cozy 27 degrees instead of 22?” 

You pick the strawberries back up and walk past him, back toward the living room to take your seat again. Before you can offer him a snarky retort, he’s quickly heading up the stairs of his old house, taking them two at a time as they creak and crack. Footsteps sound from above you, moving in one direction and then the other, before he’s coming back down slower than he had ascended. When he appears in the entryway of the living room, he’s holding the biggest, plushest navy blue down comforter you’ve ever seen in both of his arms. He’s peeking over and around it as he navigates behind the coffee table, careful not to trip or bump into something. 

“What’s all this?” You ask, laughing at the sight before you as you sit criss-crossed on the chaise, the container of strawberries still sitting in your lap, uneaten. 

“The comforter from my bed, obviously.” He answers, snatching the berries from you once more and putting them on the coffee table. You groan, but it’s short lived, as he drops the entire giant comforter overtop of you. He arranges it to wrap you inside of it, letting your head peek out. He tucks it under your thighs and tugs it closed across your chest. 

“Thank you,” you mumble through a tight-lipped smile, finding him a little ridiculous, but also thoughtful and sweet. He plops down next to you, sitting similarly to you with his legs crossed, the box of strawberries between you. He opens them and offers you one by the stem, which you graciously accept. 

You take a bite, quickly moving your hand under your chin to catch any of the chocolate cracking and falling. You moan a little at the taste, smiling at him when his eyes cut to yours. 

He takes a bite of his own, his approach for avoiding a mess a little different than yours. His bite is so big that it takes him a while to chew through it, eventually speaking with some still in his mouth. 

“I don’t know who the fuck decided these are supposed to be a romantic food.” He has a little bit of chocolate in his mustache and you can’t help but giggle, his tongue quickly darting out to lick it. “I’ve never had a more difficult time eating anything in my goddamn life.” He says, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest.

You’re so far under the influence and feeling so content from finally getting your hands on the sweets you were craving, all you can do is giggle in response. It’s the kind of giggle that lingers, when the joke is probably forgotten. He’s watching you with one raised brow as you cover your mouth and try to stop it. 

He eventually joins you, unable to resist the contagious, almost delusional snickering coming from you under the giant blanket across from him. It’s a sweet, silly moment, and it feels effortless. You spend the next few minutes chewing and laughing and stealing glances at him in secret. The edible has you at a point where you’re not sure if you’re speaking out loud or thinking the words in your head. So then, the question you’re considering asking him just slips out. 

“Why are you so tan in February?” You laugh, realizing it was a little forward of you to just ask out of nowhere. Luckily, you’re met with a stoned giggle of his own before he swallows and answers.

“I… went to a music festival in South America last week.” He says, eyes flicking up to yours, almost like he’s trying to see if you believe him.

“See anyone good?” You pry, your cheeks a little flushed the more you stare at him and catalog his mannerisms.

“Nobody you’d know.” He says, and you take him at his word. He smiles reassuringly, even though you don’t believe him, and it makes you giggle some more.

Eventually, it settles down and it’s just occasional quiet laughs cutting through the quiet of the room. He reaches for another strawberry and you realize it’s a little too quiet. You turn your head towards the tv, the last video having ended, and the countdown to the next one descending from 15. You squint your eyes a little to see what’s about to play next.

Rig Rundown: Greta Van Fleet [2021] is the title. But what really throws you is the thumbnail. The image is an older guy with coiffed silver hair, smiling and pointing at… Jake? He’s got a smug smile on his face, an arm on this other guy’s shoulder, and his hair down, which you think you’ve seen only once. He’s in a navy blue blazer with a hand on his hip, a guitar hanging across the front of his body. 

“...Is that you?”

10…9…8…

“Huh?” Jake says as he looks up at you from the box of strawberries, his mouth full, a stem pinched between his two fingers. He sees where you’re looking and follows your gaze towards the TV as it counts down. 

7…6…5…

“Oh, fuck–” 

You quickly grab the remote control from the end of the coffee table, trying to find the OK button so it will start playing sooner. Jake panics, tossing the carton of berries onto the table with reckless abandon. He lunges towards you, so you hide the remote inside the comforter along with as much of yourself as you can.

“No!” He shouts playfully, grabbing at the blanket and trying to unravel you. He kneels on the edge of the chaise, knocking you over and trying to get to your hands and arms under the layers and layers of soft, fluffy blankets.

“You have… to let… me watch it!” You argue with a laugh, avoiding his grasp. You finally decide to raise the remote all the way over your head, almost over the edge of the couch. He leans forward over top of you, his weight balanced on his palm next to your head.

“Hand it over.” He says, attempting to be stern, but there’s a smile pulling at his lips. A little jingle begins to play, and you can’t see the screen, but you’re positive the video is starting. You adjust the remote in your hand and crank the volume as he stares down at you. His eyes linger on your lips, then your eyes, then your lips again. His stare is only broken when he realizes it’s getting louder. A riff starts to fill the room, a song you can’t say you’ve ever heard before, and he huffs, reaching for the remote again.

You’re a little distracted watching him on the screen over his shoulder, his long hair and unbuttoned shirt and the way his hands look wrapped around the neck of the guitar. He snatches the remote from you with an extra stretch of his arm and you giggle softly. “Oh my god…” 

“Hey, hey! I’m John from Premier Guitar, and I’m here with Jake Kiszka from–”

Jake pauses the video, falling back into his seat on the couch. His head lolls to the side and he looks at you with a playful, annoyed glare. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Why the hell are you doing guitar interviews?”

“I told you I’m a musician.” He says, a little short, lifting the remote to exit the video.

“No, no, wait!” You plead, reaching for his forearm to lower it. “Just let me watch, like, a minute.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “If you don't, I'll just go home and watch it anyway.” 

He groans, mumbling a barely there “fine,” begrudgingly before pressing play and letting the guy continue.

“Greta Van Fleet! Jake, congratulations! Since I last saw you, you won a grammy! Or two grammys?” 

“Yeah, one…” 

“You have a fucking GRAMMY?” You exclaim as the video continues to play. You turn and look at him, but his eyes are on the screen, squinting with what you can tell is embarrassment. 

“Are you gonna talk through your allotted one minute of watching or what?” He says, giving you a little warning look. You grin, turning your attention back to the screen. As the guy goes on and on, you realize this isn’t the part you want to watch. 

“Can we skip past this guy? He talks a lot. This is not how I want to use my minute.” You bargain, and he just offers you the remote silently with a smirk. 

You fast forward a little until you see he’s about to play. It’s a few seconds of him playing something else you’ve never heard, and then he speaks.

“It’s hotter, it’s a bit hotter…”

You smirk with wide eyes, looking at him in your peripherals.

“Shut up.” He says, closing his eyes like he simply can’t watch any more. You laugh at his dramatics, and when he hears it he can’t help but crack a smile. His cheeks are rosy and you look back at the screen, eyes trying to decide on what part of him to land on. 

“This guy…” You start, shaking your head a little.

“He’s a bit much.” Jake says, looking over at you with a half smile. 

“He’s so sweaty!” You add, laughing through your words. 

He lets you watch for more than a minute. He makes a few comments, scoffing at himself, even running his hand over his face a few times. You can tell it’s a little painful for him, but you’re in your glory. You reach for another strawberry as you look over at his embarrassed face.

“So this is why you’re never here…” you say, turning the volume down a little. “And the music festival…”

“Yep. That would be the reason.” He says softly, sniffing a little as he watches. You turn to look at him and his eyes flick up to yours, his gaze traveling straight to your lips. There's a flicker in his eyes, and you hardly comprehend that his hand is moving towards your face. You feel his thumb swipe softly against your bottom lip, a tiny smear of chocolate on the tip of his digit. Your tongue immediately licks over the place his thumb was, tasting the sugary sweetness of the chocolate that was once there. He places his thumb between his lips, licking the chocolate from his own finger, while his eyes stay locked on yours. 

“Somehow, it’s even sweeter.” he breathes letting his hand drop from his lips. He settles back into the couch cushions resting his head on his hand as he looks at you. You can hardly pull your eyes away from his as your heart races in your chest, the video in the background long forgotten. 

“Tell me why you’re alone on Valentine’s day…” he murmurs, his pink lips barely parting to let the words escape.

“You tell me why you are…” you counter, blinking slowly as you stare at him.

He bites his lips together as he tosses around the words in his head. He clicks his tongue against his teeth as he starts to speak. “Well, to be honest… I’ve had trouble finding someone that can live with the burden of my lifestyle. It’s a lot to ask of someone. ”

“Burden?” you ask. 

“Yeah, that’s the word that always gets thrown around when things go south. And they’re not wrong I suppose. I know that I’m gone more than I’m home. Even you know that.” He says with a humorless chuckle. “Half the time I don’t know the next time that I’ll be home and get to sleep in my own bed. So naturally that sort of…uncertainty doesn’t lend well to relationships. Of any kind really…” he pauses, letting out a sigh. “It’s hard to find, let alone keep, any type of meaningful connection… Especially when I’m halfway around the world. But I swear it’s not for lack of trying on my end. It’s just one of those things that comes with the job whether you want it or not.”

You nod your head slowly, feeling your heart breaking for him. If you weren’t sure before, you are positive now that he is just a little more lonely than he is willing to let on.

“I wasn’t even supposed to be here now. We’re supposed to be traveling to New York right now. Though, everything happens for a reason I guess.” he says, offering you a little smirk as he brushes his hand over top of yours. “Now, your turn. Tell me why such an intriguing woman is all alone on the most romantic day of the year…”

You pull the fluffy blanket up a little further onto your lap, toying with the hem as you look up at him. “I haven’t really dated anyone since I moved here. I thought I would but, I just…haven’t. I thought that once I was settled into a good routine at work I could spend a little more time meeting people, but every time I go out I’m suddenly surrounded by twenty other girls who are by modern standards perfect, and I just don’t even stand a chance against them, you know?” you pause, letting your fingers roll over the stitching on the edge of the duvet. “I don’t look like them, and I never will. So I just work a lot, hang out with my friends when I can, and have zero expectations of ever being the person that is going to stand out in a crowd like that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for his response, suddenly feeling stupid for telling this stranger your secrets. 

“You couldn't be more wrong.” he breathes, letting his arm fall against the back of the couch. There’s an air of demand in his voice as he speaks. His hand swipes the hair away from your face, letting his fingers brush your jawline. “You’re prettier than all of them. And smarter, and funnier. They have nothing on you. I’d pick you…In a crowd.”

“You don’t have to just say that to try and make me feel better. It’s okay, really.” you say dismissively.

“I’m not just saying that, Y/N. I mean it. You’re so pretty, and you’re so quick witted, and you listen to me talk about stuff no one else cares about...Shit, I can’t think of one person I know that would have sat through even the first video, let alone let me talk through the entire thing. I’m having one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time, with you.” he urges, settling his hand loosely on the curve of your neck. His skin is warm against yours, and you can smell the remnants of the cologne he likely sprayed on his wrist this morning as it wafts towards your nose. 

You laugh softly, suddenly feeling shy as he compliments you. You lean into him without even noticing, your eyes closing as you breathe him in. The cushion dips as he leans towards you, meeting you where you were and pressing his lips to yours almost tentatively. His fingers grip into your neck as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip. If the gummy didn’t already have you feeling floaty, you were sure you’d be feeling it now. He pulls away from you and a small whimper leaves your mouth at the loss of his warmth. His hand slides down your neck and over your shoulder, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him. With his other hand, he picks up the remote and hits pause, not wanting the video to carry on in the background of what you think is about to be another kiss. 

“C’mere…” he growls, holding a hand out to you. You tuck your feet underneath yourself in an attempt to push up onto your knees, feeling slightly off-kilter. You grip his hand a little tighter as you reach for his shoulder, moving slowly until you’re straddling his lap. He positions your legs on either side of him, making sure you’re comfortable, and taking the opportunity to run his hands over your thighs. You rest your hands on his chest for some stability, your head in the clouds. His hands immediately find their way back to your face, cupping your cheeks as he pulls you in and kisses you again,though this time there is a little more urgency behind it. You slide your hands up and over his shoulders, letting your fingers weave into his hair, grabbing a handful of the chestnut locks and gripping it in your fists. He tilts his head back slightly in response. 

“Oh, fuck.” he groans. He looks at you with his head tilted back, his lids heavy, a barely-there crooked smile on his face. He’s such a sight with his dark eyes and pink lips, you think you might burst on the spot. You know you need to kiss him again, but you also want to hear him moan and curse again, and his exposed throat is calling to you.

Leaning down, you place a kiss to his jaw, the skin soft and warm. You feel like you’re in the passenger seat as someone else, a bolder and less inhibited version of yourself, calls the shots. One minute, you’re thinking about how the textured skin of his throat feels against your cheek, then then the next, you’re kissing and licking at it without a second thought. You feel his skin buzz under your lips as he whines, the taste of his skin and cologne mixed together so good you’re certain you’ll never be able to forget it. 

You feel yourself melting into him, your tongue pulling the delicate skin over his clavicle into your mouth as you suck and bite softly without any consideration for the fact that he probably shouldn’t be covered in love bites. When you lift your head, he’s got his own resting on the back of the couch, his eyes closed, his brows knitted together as you shower him in searing kisses.

Sitting up, you lean over him again for another kiss, this time taking it upon yourself to deepen it, grazing your teeth over his bottom lip as you lace your hands in his hair again, taking a bit of control. You feel him shudder beneath you, his hips bucking up in response. His tongue slides into your mouth and you can taste the lingering flavor of the tequila he was no doubt drinking prior to your arrival mixed with a hint of chocolate. His hands travel down your body, sliding underneath the hem of your shirt. He stops as his hands wrap around your waist, his thumbs swiping over your skin. You lean into his grip, feeling him pull you down onto his groin as his teeth nip at your lips now. 

You know that both of you are still feeling the effects of the gummy and there isn’t a shred of inhibition between the two of you. You release your grip on his hair and let your hands trail down the open buttons of his shirt, feeling the chest you’ve stared at all night beneath your fingertips. You slide them further down, letting your fingers toy with the remaining buttons, waiting to see if he will stop you, but when he doesn’t, you finish the job and push his shirt open completely. A silver necklace rests between his pecs, and you smile recognizing the coin as one of the artifacts you saw in one of the videos from earlier in the night. 

His mouth is like velvet on yours and you can’t help but to want more of him. You roll your hips against him, feeling him growing beneath you and spurring you on even more. Another groan leaves his mouth, his lips vibrating on yours. His hands move up a little further, his thumbs just dusting the underside of your bralette. You can tell he’s doing his best to be respectful, but you simply cannot wait another second to feel his hands on your body. 

You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, tossing it to the side. He swallows thickly as his eyes roam over you, his lips parting as he looks you over. His mind is struggling to keep up with the pace things are moving. He hums in approval as he runs a calloused fingertip over your navel, which pulls a lazy smile from you. Jake chuckles in response, now moving his hands to rest at your shoulders before pulling you down closer to him so he can press a wet kiss to your collarbone. His lips trail down your skin until they reach the fullness of your chest, and with his eyes now locked on yours, he sucks a hot, audible kiss into the rounded skin.

Your eyes flutter closed as his tongue swipes against your skin, simultaneously feeling his fingers pull the bralette straps down over your shoulders. With the extra support gone the cups fall slightly, revealing a little more of your chest to him. You grab his hands and pull them to your chest, giving him the green light to take things a little further. 

“God, you’re stunning.” he mumbles breathlessly, gripping into your tits as you roll your hips against him. You lean forward to press your lips to his again, licking into his mouth as his hands move to circle around your back, resting just at the base of your back. He presses you closer as you roll into him again, this time feeling his fully hard cock pressed against your core. He hooks a finger into one side of your bralette, freeing your nipple. He leans forward and takes into his mouth, sucking softly. You groan at the feeling, a breath of air leaving his mouth as you drag across the length of him. He pulls you closer, dragging his tongue over the sensitive bud as mewls fall from your lips. You usually aren’t as affected by something so routine in foreplay, but all of your senses are heightened and you think you could probably cum from the feeling of his mouth spoiling you with kisses and bites combined with how hard he is between your thighs.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, still glassy and blown out. “I promise this isn’t what I intended when I invited you over...” he breathes, his thumbs swiping against your back as he licks his lips, his blinks slow and lazy. 

“I know…” you answer with a bashful smile and lidded eyes, staring into his brown irises. “But it feels too good to stop.” 

“Yeah,” he says, more of a breath than a word. “I want you so fucking bad right now.” he adds, a smirk pulling across his lips as he makes the move to roll you to your back on the chaise of the couch. You're giggling as he’s now hovering over you, similarly to how he was earlier, only this time you know he’s going to kiss you and you don’t have to wish for it. He makes quick work of his shirt, pulling his arms from the sleeves and tossing it to the other side of the room. Your head is positively spinning, the room around you seems like a blur and the only thing in focus is him.

He runs a finger over your chest, hooking into the fabric of your bralette. “Take this off for me, sweetheart. Show me.” he mumbles, his lazy eyes slowly raking over every inch of you, needing more.

You practically burst into flames, rushing to pull the fabric over your head. Now completely exposed to him, his eyes flick down to your chest as he bites his lips together. He pulls back again, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down for some relief. He swallows harshly, letting his eyes meet yours again. You reach your hand up and hook it around his neck, pulling his face down to yours. You press your lips to his and he lowers himself down to his elbows, deepening the kiss as his body lays on top of yours. 

You let your free hand circle around his back, your fingers following the contours of his waist, dipping down to his spine as you run the length of his back. He groans at the feeling of your nails against his skin, and you find yourself wondering if he’s usually this vocal or if the high he’s experiencing has lowered his guard. 

He shoots up, turning his head around to look at the TV, muttering something under his breath as he grabs the remote from the other side of the couch. He exits the video and you giggle, realizing it was paused on a still of his brother, you assume, in the middle of talking with his hands, sitting behind a keyboard. He tosses the remote to the coffee table, leaning back down over you with a smirk. “Sorry. I just think three’s a crowd.” he smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips.

He pulls away from your lips leaving a trail of kisses down your throat, and over your sternum, stopping just shy of the top of your yoga pants. His eyes flick up to yours, and you offer him a shy nod, silently thanking yourself for that “everything” shower this morning. 

He kisses your stomach one more time before curling his fingers beneath the hem, sliding them slowly over your hips and down your legs before letting them fall softly to the floor. You lay there in just your panties, and you think he may notice that you’re feeling exposed as he quickly stands to kick off his pants. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the heavy outline of his dick, visible and straining against the black fabric of his boxers. 

His eyes flick to yours but you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the tan line just above the elastic of his boxers, wanting more than anything to peel the black fabric from his hips. He kneels onto the chaise, settling himself between your legs and caging you between his arms. A few strands of his hair hang around his face, and his dark brown eyes are growing darker by the second. You bring your hand up to his stomach, letting your fingers sneak beneath the elastic of his boxers, sliding across the front of his waist causing him to clench up his stomach with a smile. 

“You ticklish?” you murmur, continuing to slide your fingers across his waistband. 

He drops his head to look at your hand in his boxers before looking back up at you with a smirk. “Not ticklish, just…sensitive…” he growls. You can tell that the gummy has made him a little more responsive to touch than he normally is.

His hips jolt forward on their own accord and you feel the brush of his dick against your fingers. He sucks in a harsh breath at the contact, his eyes connecting with yours. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you push your hand further inside, wrapping softly around his hardened length. A hiss leaves his mouth and he starts to breathe a little heavier as you squeeze around him. You slide your hand up and around the tip, rounding off at the end before sliding back down, watching his eyes flutter closed for the slightest second. 

“Fuck, wait…” he breathes, pulling back and taking a second to compose himself. He sits up a little more, hooking his fingers into your thong and pulling it swiftly down your legs. His eyes flick up towards the couch then back down the length of the chaise, “Move down a little for me, baby. Rest your feet on the floor. ” 

You quickly push yourself further down on the couch, letting your knees hang over the edge of the chaise until your feet meet the rug on the floor. He drops to his knees at the end of the chaise, running his warm hands up the length of your thighs. He kisses the inside of your thigh, humming in appreciation for the position he’d found himself in. 

He rests both of his hands on your hips, and as you look down at him, you see a faint silver scar up the length of his left arm. You wrap your hand around his forearm, feeling his veins pulsing against your palm.

His eyes meet yours as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds, hot and slow as you throw your head back into the couch cushion. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin pulling you closer as his lips suction over your clit. His tongue swipes against you again, flatter and with more pressure as you writhe beneath him. 

“Fuck…” he curses, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine. “Had I known what I was missing…” he pauses to lick at you again. “I would have pulled you across the street months ago. You taste like heaven.”

You feel as if you’re floating on a cloud as you melt into his comforter, the warmth from the fireplace radiating across the room. A soft gasp falls from your lips as he laps at you, no urgency or strategy behind his method. He seems to just be enjoying himself, his eyes lifting to look at you, a little lazy, a little glassy. You shift underneath him slightly, but he’s not deterred. His mouth doesn’t leave you for even a moment, like you’re his only source of vitality in this very moment. 

You whine when you feel his tongue press to your entrance, and you feel the smile that pulls across his lips. Your hips buck up towards him, his nose brushing over your clit, sending you quickly towards a place you’re not quite ready to be yet. His tongue finds you again, pressing forward this time and entering just for a second before pulling back out. His lips suction over you again, and he shakes his head side to side, taking you to that place whether you’re ready or not.

“Jake…” you whine, sliding your hands into his hair.

“Mmm?” he hums into you, his eyes slowly opening to find yours, heavy with lust. 

“More…” you beg, shuddering the slightest bit as you see how dark his eyes have become.

He gives you one more slow, long lap of his tongue, like he’s savoring it and committing the taste of you to memory. He stands from where he was kneeling and taps your thigh gently, wordlessly telling you to shift back up on the chaise. You scoot backwards and he follows, nestling himself between your legs, propped up on his palm. With the hand he isn’t using for balance, he frees himself from his briefs. He strokes himself once, but then lets himself go and you feel him against you, his cock heavy and hard, landing on the inside of your thigh with the softest sound. He pulls back slightly and when he pushes his hips forward again, he’s sliding through your folds, slick and lewd. It makes your cheeks hot.

“You’re so fucking wet…” he grunts, his voice strained like he’s in pain. “Just wanna feel you for a second…”

He lowers himself to bury his face in your hair, his breath hot as he pants, gently rutting his hips against you, his thrusts a little uncoordinated and desperate. 

“Everything’s just so fucking sensitive.” he says, his now boyish voice cracking as it’s muffled by the pillow behind your head. He wraps his arms tightly around you and under you, like he’s worried you’re about to float away. “Feels so good.”

With a deep breath he releases you, sliding his hand down to fist his base. As he presses the tip to your entrance his eyes lock on yours, wordlessly asking if you’re ready, and when you nod he starts to press forward. His eyes flick down to your center, watching as he slides into you. The stretch is noticeable, but you welcome it. You want it. His eyes flutter closed for just a second and you feel him stop his movement, not pressing into you fully. 

“Fuck, give me a second.” he pants, his chest heaving. 

You feel him try to slide in a little more, but again he’s holding back. 

“I think– I think you’re gonna have to take the reins here.” he admits. 

“What do you mean…”

“If I move a single inch more I won’t–” he pauses, shaking his head as he blows out a breath. “I just need you to be on top.” 

His eyes are pleading, searching yours, and you can’t possibly fathom the idea of ever denying him. 

“I’ll make it worth your while.” he offers, and you can’t help but give him a little smirk, nodding. He withdraws and gives you a little space to get up, ditching his underwear before taking your place. You gingerly climb over him, taking a moment to brush one of the strands of hair that frames his face out of the way. He gives you a soft, lazy smile, his eyes barely open as he welcomes your gentle touch. 

His hand reaches between the two of you as he lines himself up, and you waste no time lowering yourself onto him, savoring how full he makes you feel. Intending to fly right out of the gates you lift your hips again, but he slowly settles you down, a soft hum rumbling through him. 

“That’s it. Yeah… Lean back for me?” he coaches, and you do as he asks without a second thought. His warm hand brushes down your abdomen until his thumb makes contact with your clit to rub gentle circles while his lidded eyes are open just a sliver to stare intently at where your bodies are meeting. His pink lips are parted slightly, his breathing shallow. You can’t help the wanton moan that escapes your throat at the sight paired with his careful touch.

“Rest your hands on my knees. I won’t let you fall.” he instructs, letting his free hand slide up your thigh. You do as he says, leaning back onto his knees, allowing you to take him a little deeper. “Just like that, baby. Fuck…” 

You roll your hips in figure eights, feeling him brush against that sensitive place inside you, eliciting a whine from your chest. 

“Yeah? Right there?” he asks, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You stay just like that. Let me take over.” 

He brings his foot up to rest on the cushion, giving himself a little more leverage. His hand firmly grips into your hip as he forcefully flicks his hips and fucks up into you. You gasp as he hits that spot, like he knew where it was the whole time. His thumb never relenting in its work on your clit.

“Yeah, damn. That’s it isn’t it, sweetheart? You feel so good like this... You just keep squeezin’ me, just like that.”

The force of his thrusts cause his silver chain to work its way up his body and into the crook of his neck. Your attention is quickly drawn to the metal coins rattling together with each thrust. 

“M’gonna cum…” you warn him so he can decide whether or not to back off, but he just groans and keeps his motions steady. You can’t breathe when it hits you, nor can you help the way you fall forward, gasping for breath. Steadying yourself with weak arms, you grasp at the plush comforter underneath him.

“Fuck me that’s tight,” he groans. “Fuck.” He grabs your wrists on either side of his head for leverage, thrusting up into you so hard you see stars. It’s like your vision goes white as your chest heaves and you meet your end, crying out a desperate wail of his name.

“Slow down for me now, baby.” he coos as you tremble and try to catch your breath. You nod, taking all of him slowly with each roll of your hips. Looking down at him, you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together. Something about the way he’s dewy with sweat, his chest rising and falling, his hair sticking to his face… It makes your head spin. You watch his stoned eyes rolling back each time you take him so deeply the head of his cock brushes against the deepest part of you and it’s almost too much to bear. 

He grips your hips suddenly, inhaling sharply. You freeze, knowing what he’s getting at, and you feel him twitch inside you. His brow is knitted up in concentration and a whine leaves his perfect, heart-shaped lips. 

“Goddamn… you feel too good. I can’t– I can’t hold it, fuck…” he babbles, his voice pitched higher than you’ve heard it all night. Before you can say a word, he continues on. 

“Can I do it inside? Please, baby, can I? Pl– oh, god, please? Wanna cum inside you so bad, so fucking bad… Can I? Baby–” 

“Do it.” you urge, desperate to give him anything he wants in this very moment. 

“Yeah?” he gasps. 

“Yeah, do it. Please. I need it…” you whine, squeezing him with everything you have one last time. 

“Oh fuck…” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you down and holds you in place as he pumps into you. “God damn, fuck me…” he cries out, grunting with each pulse inside you. His brows are furrowed and his eyes screwed shut before finally letting out a deep breath and slowing his hips. 

His chest is heaving and a sheen of sweat covers his tanned skin. His hand moves from your hips, swiping the sweaty hair from his forehead. You lift to your knees, knowing exactly why his eyes are still trained on the place the two of you meet. He wants to see his work.

As you lift up, you feel his release start to stream out of you and back down onto his cock. A huff of pride leaves his chest, his tongue swiping out over his bottom lip before biting it between his teeth. 

“Should we clean up?” he asks, watching the hot white streams drip down to his base. 

“I’m working on it...” you say softly, lifting off of him completely and dropping to your knees. You plant your hands on either side of his hips, arching your back and pressing your ass into the air as you lower your mouth over his cum covered cock. 

“Fuck…” he groans, watching your lips slide down his length.

Closing your lips over his base, you take him as far into your throat as you can, sucking his release from his skin as you work your way up, dragging your tongue over his every inch. You can feel him growing hard again as you reach the tip, lapping and circling your tongue around the sensitive skin. You drop down to his base again, but this time you feel his hand grip into your hair, holding you there as his hips jerk forward, propelling him further down your throat. 

“Look at me.” he demands, and you flick your watery eyes up to meet his. 

You gag around him and he releases your hair, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “Mmm…Yeah, fuck. We’re gonna revisit this...” he says, eyes fixed on you as you pull off of him with a pop. “Just needed to see how pretty you look with my cock down your throat.”

You can’t stop the tiny gasp that escapes you as you shoot him a playfully shocked grin. You blink once, raising your brows. 

“We have a lot to revisit. Where did that come from?” You ask through a laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He chuckles, handing you your shirt. 

“Sorry, sorry. The edible’s wearing off.” He says with a smirk, attempting to get himself off the couch. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Jake shows you to the bathroom, then disappears into his bedroom while you freshen up. When you emerge, re-dressed and significantly less sticky, he hears your footsteps and comes out to meet you in the hallway. The two of you smile at each other, feeling the THC and endorphins and feelings starting to settle like you’re standing in a snowglobe.

“I'm glad you came over. Sorry I Jake’d you for a few hours.” He says softly, and there’s some jingling coming from his bedroom, which is probably Davy annoyed that you’re still lingering in his house. Jake hears it, reaching behind him to close his bedroom door without looking away from you.

“Jake’d me? Please don’t tell me that’s what you call–”

“NO, no, no. Oh, no. Getting ‘Jake’d’ is what my family calls it when I corner one of them into talking to me for an extended period of time about something they don’t really care about in excruciating detail.” He explains like he’s reading the definition from a textbook, a charming smile on his face. He seems a little embarrassed but at the same time, he sees the humor in it.

“Well I had a really great time.” you answer genuinely, pushing your hair behind your ear. “You can Jake me whenever you want.” You joke, a laugh bubbling out of you. You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully and it coaxes a short, loud laugh out of him as well. 

“I just might take you up on that.” He says, and there’s a rosy tint to his cheeks even in the dim lighting of the hallway.

“You know where to find me...” 

As if he can tell you’re about to try and take your leave, he starts to walk past you and down the stairs. 

“...Have you ever watched those videos where they clean out old barns?”

–

The two of you ended up curled together on the chaise, tucked under his big comfy blanket. The exhaustion hits you all at once, and about 10 minutes in, you slip into a deep sleep, your head tucked into his shoulder, his arm around you, his hand gently scratching your scalp. 

Hours later, you wake up unsure where you are for a moment. As you shift a little, you feel there’s a heavy weight against you, which you soon realize is Jake’s leg. You’re no longer tucked underneath the giant duvet, a little sweaty, as Jake is asleep on his back. His hand is tucked into his sweatpants resting on his upper thigh, and you have to peel your eyes away once you spot the first sign of him half hard and half asleep. You can see his bold tan line and the slightest bit of hair through the gap he’s created. Sitting up, you try to search for a clock somewhere in the room or even your phone. Feeling around the chaise under you, you don’t find it. You look over on the other side of Jake hoping it’s there, but the only thing you find there is little Davy, curled into a ball and pressed against Jake’s back. 

Jake seems to feel you moving around and it wakes him, eliciting a raspy hum from his chest. He pulls you back in towards him, your back to his chest, and you feel him shaking his head against your shoulder.

“Morning,” you say through a breathy laugh, but at the sound of your voice, you hear the jingle of Davy’s collar and the tippy-taps of his feet as he runs as far away from you as humanly possible.

“Too early.” He grumbles, reaching blindly over his head to feel around for the curtains. When he doesn’t find them, he groans and gets up, tugging them closed tight. “Fuck. Slept with my contacts in.” He says, standing over you and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He stretches his arms over his head, his tanline peeking out again, and you squeeze your eyes closed trying to keep your head on straight. He sighs deeply before sliding back onto the couch with you, pulling you tight to him. The two of you fall back asleep soon after, the only sound you hear is the clinking of Davy’s collar tag against his bowl and some quiet crunching.

–

When you wake again it’s from the feeling of Jake’s fingers moving against your hip. You stretch your legs out along the chaise, feeling the brush of his sweatpants against your legs. You roll your body towards him letting out a yawn. His eyes open, a little red from the dryness of sleeping with his contacts in, but as they fully open you’re once again pulled in by the dark brown irises. 

“Still too early?” you whisper, your morning voice thick with sleep. 

“Mmm, a bit, but I should probably get up. I’m sure my phone is just completely blown up by this point.” he groans, stretching his own legs out. “You sleep okay? We should’ve just moved to the bed earlier.”

“Actually this couch is pretty comfy, no complaints from me.” you smile, watching a grin spread across his own face. 

“Speaking of complaints, your snoring…” he trails off. 

“I don’t snore!” you admonish, playfully pushing off of his warm chest. 

“No, you don’t. I’m just kidding. You are warm though, but that’s not a complaint.” he growls, tossing the comforter off of both of you. He pushes himself up off of the couch, his sweatpants dangerously low on his hips. “Coffee? You drink coffee?” he asks, searching for his phone on the coffee table. “Or I can order something to the house, though there’s really only one good place that deliv–”

You send him a knowing look and he stops himself. 

“But you know that already because you live across the street.” he sighs. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee’s good.” you answer, looking for your own phone. 

“How do you like it? Sugar? Milk? I don’t know what I have but–”

“Just sugar is fine…” you smirk. 

He leans over the coffee table to grab his phone, stealing a kiss on his descent. 

“Hey!” you laugh.

“You said just sugar…” he grins, swiping his phone and disappearing into his kitchen. 

You stifle back the smile on your lips, and a morning you thought might be slightly awkward, feels like you’ve done it a million times. You pull on your cardigan, and run your fingers through your hair, straightening up the couch cushions, and repositioning the pillows. You’re finishing folding up his comforter as he walks into the room. 

“Ahh, you didn’t have to do that.” he says, placing your mug on the coffee table.

“No trouble, just cleaning up our mess.” you smile, tossing the folded comforter down onto the couch. 

“You seem to be rather good at that...” he smirks into his coffee mug. 

Your cheeks grow hot as you recall what he is referring to. You grab your mug from the table and take a few sips, finding that somehow it’s made exactly how you like it. 

You spot your keys under the coffee table, bending to grab them. “There they are. Always getting away from me.”

He chuckles as he takes his normal seat on the couch, crossing his leg over his knee. You stare at him, just enjoying his coffee on his couch and you want to ask him if you can see him again, but you don’t. You think back to what he told you last night, and decide against it. 

You place your empty mug on the table, and bite your lips together before looking at him. “Thank you– for the coffee, and everything. It was nice.” 

“Yeah, it was nice, wasn’t it? Same time next year?” he jokes, offering you a wink. 

“Oh yeah, I thought that was a given…” you say through a laugh, “I mean, if you’re home of course.”

You grab your phone and keys from the coffee table and stand, ready to make your way towards the front door. He joins you in standing, the mug still clasped in his hand.

“Yeah, you just never know, ya know? I mean, maybe we don’t even have to wait that long…” he laughs, taking another sip of his coffee with a shrug. 

“Yeah, I mean, you have my number…” You smile, twisting the front door knob. 

“That I do. I definitely do.” he pauses, as you pull the door open. “Hey wait, let me walk you home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, it’s just right there…” you say nervously. 

“No, really. I want to. Just give me a sec.” he says, setting his mug on the entry table and rushing to grab a hoodie from his coat rack. He slides on a pair of dirty white Vans that have definitely seen better days, and opens the door further. “Alright, you ready?”

The two of you make your way through his front yard, giggling back and forth all the way to your front door as he quizzes you about the videos you watched last night. As you step up to your front porch mat you pull your keys from your cardigan pocket and start to unlock the door. 

“Thanks for walking me home. You’re such a gentleman…” you say, feigning romance. As you peek over his shoulder you see Davy sitting in the window, keeping a close eye on Jake. 

“Well of course, I couldn’t miss out on my kiss…” he smiles, a little dimple forming in his cheek. 

“What kiss…” you press, all the while secretly hoping for just one more. 

He grabs your waist and pulls you close to him, pressing his cold lips to yours. You can taste the remnants of coffee on his tongue, and as he pulls away his lips linger just a second longer. 

A hum leaves his lips as he steps back. “That kiss.” He says, stepping backwards off of your porch, taking a few steps before turning to head back to his house. As you step inside your front door you look over your shoulder at the same time as he does, throwing his hand up from inside his hoodie pocket to offer you a two finger wave. 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you close the door behind you, and you feel like positively melting into the ground over the night you just shared with Jake. As you peek out the window you see Davy gone from his patrol post, and you smile knowing he’s definitely happy to have Jake all to himself again.

—

As you scrub away the remnants of the night before, you can’t help but to remember the way his hands felt as they moved across your body. So warm and so intentional, even in his intoxicated state. You wonder if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and if he’s thinking about it just as much as you are. You think back to every other Valentine’s day you’ve ever had, and not a single one holding a candle to the night you just spent across the street with your neighbor. 

You hear your phone buzz on the bathroom counter as you turn the shower off, wrapping yourself in a towel as you pick it up from the countertop. Your heart leaps in your chest as you see his name flash across your screen.

Jake - Neighbor

12:04pm: Probably should have watched the first one before the sequel. 😉

12:04pm: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWDf_CEkpoU&t=1382s

You quickly hit the link, watching as it directs you to youtube, pulling up yet another Rig Rundown video. This one is much older than the one you saw last night, and as you lean against the bathroom counter the intro music starts to play. You’re met with a much younger looking version of Jake, in a sweater and a bucket hat, looking bright and eager to talk about his craft. 

You quickly head towards your kitchen, pulling your own stash of gummies from your pantry. You pluck one of the small black bags from the basket and snap a photo as you pull up your texts and attach it to a message with a giggle. 

You

12:10pm: Should I take one of these before I watch it? 

12:10pm: By the way, love the bucket hat… 😉

You make your way back to your bedroom, dressing yourself in lounge clothes, knowing you’ll probably spend the rest of the day relaxing and catching up on your shows. Satisfied with your outfit you grab your phone to check for his response, only to be met with an empty screen. You sigh and make your way to the living room, flopping down onto your couch with your leftover take out from the night before, pressing play on the TV. 

You try not to think about the man across the street and what he’s probably doing. You know he must be into something since he has yet to respond to your message. That or he has no intention of ever speaking to you again. 

Feeling frustrated that it’s probably the latter, you toss your phone to the other side of the couch, catching a glance out your window. Your eyes snap to his driveway, seeing another car taking up the space next to his. Who the hell is at his house?

You stand up and make your way over to the window, taking a closer look at the white Jeep parked next to his car. You’ve never noticed it before…Or have you? You start to wrack your brain for the times you’ve even seen another car at his house, but you come up short. Never really caring before today. 

You sit back down on the couch and start the next episode of your show, feeling the soreness from the prior night's activities starting to settle into your muscles. You grab a throw blanket and your favorite pillow and snuggle down into the couch cushions, ready to nap away your troubles, and hoping to wake up to a new message in your inbox. 

A knock on the door startles you awake. You grab your phone and see that you’ve slept quite a few hours, and it’s now nearly 6:00pm.

You stand up and run your hands through your hair to combat the bedhead, clearing your throat as you reach for the door knob. Standing on the other side of your door is Jake, looking like he is fresh from the shower, as his damp hair lays long over his shoulders. You can smell his body wash wafting off of him and you practically melt into the door frame. 

“Did I wake you up? Did you actually take that gummy?” he laughs, pulling his hands from his pockets. 

“Oh, no. I didn’t. I just… I guess I was a little more tired than I thought.” you blush, trying to play it cool, and not like you’ve been thinking about him since the moment he left this morning. 

“Sorry I forgot to respond. My brother came over and I couldn’t get him to leave.” he laughs.  

His brother.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I was in and out of sleep all day anyways.” you lie. 

“So…” he pauses, taking a breath as he reaches into his pocket. “I may have acquired something a bit better than what we had last night.” he says holding a small black bag in his palm. 

“I don’t know, I kind of liked what we had last night.” you quip, a little smirk on your lips. 

“Mhmm, I know you did.” he smiles, sliding his hands back into his trouser pockets. 

“I don’t know if you had plans tonight or anything…” he trails off, kicking his foot against your doormat. “But I was thinking about watching this video I saw about how to make a barbecue smoker out of a filing cabinet. Really riveting stuff…”

His big brown eyes flash up to yours in question and you feel that flame in your chest reignite. You’re already eager at the thought of spending another night like last night. You knew right then that it wouldn’t matter if it was a filing cabinet smoker or a centuries old shipwreck, there was suddenly nothing more important than watching whatever it may be, with him. So with a shy smile, and the tap of your fingers against your chin you meet his gaze. 

“You know, I really have been meaning to look into that…”

Taglist: @ageofcj @britney-gvf @bladenotblaze @gretavanfan @peaceloveunitygvf @highway-tuna @anythingforjtk @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @myleftsock @gretavanmoon @aflame4goinghome @ascendingtothestarssasone @jjwasneverhere @sparrowofrhiannon @gvfstuddedmajesty @kiarraaldarondo @oliver-mf-reed @notjordie-gvf @starshine-wagner @starcatcherchords @sadiechar @spark-my-nature @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @mackalah @stardustofman @eyelinerjake @farfromthehomelands @abby-gvf @writingcold @fleet-of-fiction @stardustjake @sinarainbows @gvfsstardust @ageoflou @jarmonicasweat @jakekiszkasmommy @bubblyjake @jakeygvf21 @starrymoonslut @takenbythemadness @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @m0uthfl13s @floatinglikeaswan @bri-archer @Mama.likes72

[prettylittlels]

proud

(sebastian vettel x ferrari!reader)

summary: ferrari wins in monza thanks to sebastian vettel's wife

a/n: seb my baby

yourusername has posted a story!

caption: let's go Monza! 🇮🇹

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charles_leclerc has posted a story!

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f1news today we race in Monza and there is hope for Ferrari! since the new team manager of Scuderia Ferrari, y/n y/ln - vettel, took the reins, things are looking better for our favorite red team. the streets are buzzing with anticipation: the rumors of y/n taking the team to the top of the constructor's championship aren't little, and the whispers of y/ln's husband, the retired driver sebastian vettel, being present at today's race are getting louder.

7,298 comments

user1 vamos ferrari ❤️🇮🇹🚘

user2 y/n literally saved ferrari

user3 seby/n content pleaseee

-> user4 omg yess we havent seen them in so longg

liked by yourusername and 2,928,106

scuderiaferrari Charles Leclerc won the Italian Grand Prix! and Carlos Sainz close, finishing second!

134,970 comments

user5 YEEEEESSSSSSS

user6 Y/N TRULY IS OUR SAVIOUR

charles_leclerc thank you y/n ❤️ ferrari isn't the same without you

-> yourusername liked this comment

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sebastianvettel Ich bin so stolz auf dich. Ich kann nicht glauben, dass alle deine Träume wahr geworden sind, meine Liebe. Für immer dankbar, dass ich dich meine Frau nennen darf. Ich liebe dich bis zum Mond und bis zum Saturn ❤️

(i am so proud of you. i cant believe all of your dreams came true, my love. forever thankful that i can call you my wife. i love you to the moon and to saturn.)

tagged yourusername

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yourusername forever yours 🖤

tagged sebastianvettel

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f1news after today's victory, iconic husband and wife duo y/n y/ln - vettel and sebastian vettel have been seen entering two-michelin star restaurant in Rome. congrats to the beautiful couple!

72,910 comments

user7 MY PARENTS

landonorris mama y papa

-> user8 LANDO????

user9 THE f1 couple

user0 🔥

[daniswoso]

Short sight. (part 2)

Summary: Leah and r reconcile, but can they repair what’s broken?

Warnings: Use of Y/N, angst and fluff, happy ending, overthinking and hate on social media.

*******

Leah’s thumb hovered over the call button, tears welling in her eyes as she pressed it. She could’ve sobbed when she heard your voice, meek and tired on the other end.

“Hello?” You croak, phone shaking in your hand as you saw Leah’s name pop up on the screen.

“Y/N! Fuck, I- Can we talk? I know now. I know why you broke up with me. You’re so much more than good enough for me, please please don’t overthink that baby-“

“Lee-“

“Y/N I love you for fucks sakes nothing will ever change that and-“

“Lee!” You shout at her, trying to get her to listen. “We can talk. Tomorrow at our- your place?”

“Uh, yeah. For sure, absolutely.” She breathes. And without another word you hang up.

And sure enough, the next afternoon, you were at the front door of your shared- her apartment. Though you did not have the flowers you’d picked up on the way, as you had tossed those into a park bin on your journey there, realising it was silly and neither of you were, in fact, in secondary school.

She answered within a matter of mere milliseconds. She was breathless and the wispy bits of hair around her hairline were stuck to her face with a light sheen of sweat dusting her sunkissed skin. God, she was gorgeous. Presumably, she’d been working out, evidence supported by the numerous weights and freshly used treadmill in the corner of the living room.

“Shit, uh, that time already? Damn, sorry, Y/N, I- I totally forgot,” she sighs, sweeping a hand over her face and gesturing for you to come in.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase, ‘s that alright?” you swallow, guilt and a few emotions you shouldn’t be feeling for an ex swilling around bitterly in your chest.

“Uhm, oh, right, yeah,” she hums, seemingly somewhat… dejected? You’d have thought she’d have been thrilled not to have to deal with floods of ‘Y/N’s not good enough!’ in her comments now.

“I- I ended things, obviously, to uhm… to make it easier on you-“ you attempt to explain further but upon hearing the words ‘for you’, Leah’s temper seems to flare and her eyes narrow.

“And was I ever going to get a say in that?” she snaps, almost bitter at the revelation you weren’t even planning on letting her be even a minor part of the conversation.

“I figured that-” and she cuts you off again.

“No. No, dammit, Y/N! You don’t get to decide things for me! Because if it had of been up to me? I would’ve told you I think you are the most beautiful, incredibly talented person to have ever graced the fucking Earth!” she rants, her hands moving theatrically; a habit you had noticed previously and had always found ridiculously cute, though now the movement left a bitter stinging behind your eyes.

You force your eyes away from her form sheepishly, unable to look your former lover in the eye. Maybe you had been too hasty in your attempts to rid her of the plague you labelled as yourself. In your mind, you were just that: a plague… A burden. A pest that was to never leave someone alone. It was what you had been told, so by proxy, it was what you believed.

“I’m not good enough for you,”

“Yes, you fucking are.”

“No, Lee. I’m not. I’m not as pretty as your exes, nowhere near as good at footy as you… You’re- You’re perfection incarnate, and I’m… Me.” you spit, your words coming out in a flurry of apprehension and hate.

Leah’s heart broke as she realised you did well and truly believe that.

“Ask me,” she inhales sharply, cupping your face. “ask me what I think you are.”

You roll your eyes, a warmth in the form of red, scalding hot tears bubbling behind your eyes, “What do you think I am, Leah?” you whisper, as if afraid.

“Perfect. Talented. The axis my world spins on, my world in general, actually. My moon, my stars… I would sooner swallow lava than let you believe otherwise,” she chuckles, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks as she rubs a calloused, yet somehow still oh so soft, thumb over your cheekbone.

“Please don’t swallow lava,” you chuckle, your voice breaking slightly as you attempt a joke.

She chuckles briefly before letting the joke go, “Do you get what I’m sayin’? Because I’m saying that you are everything I’ve dreamed for and more.” she whispers, pressing her forehead to yours, enjoying the intimacy she had longed for since you departed.

The house hadn’t been the same since you left. Everything bright was drained of its colour and everything that was the same shade of your favourite colour you loved was so painfully you it made her break down.

“I think so,” you sniffle, flinging your arms around her desperately, seeking solace in her. Her scent, warmth, toned arms around you. Anything her, really. You had just missed her.

You had missed her so much.

“God, I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry,” you choke out, your voice lodged in your throat uncomfortably, as if you’d accidentally swallowed a tennis ball. Your tongue felt dry, your eyes, however, did not as they allowed hot tears to be streamed down your face, mascara streaking like fresh chalk being washed away on a rainy day.

“Don’t you dare apologise. You let your anxiety get the better of you, I get it. But next time… just… just talk, okay? Talk to me, to anyone, as long as it means you don’t pull this bullshit again.” she chuckles, kissing the top of your head, burying her nose in the crook on your neck, craving your scent.

“Okay, I promise I will,” you sighs, wiping at your eyes and kissing her softly, your hands cupping the defined contours of her sharp - yet somehow simultaneously soft - jaw.

“Okay. Thank you,” she sighs shakily, wiping her own tears away.

“No problem, Red.” you smile weakly, the emotions you faced today proving to be quite taxing.

“I love you, Blue.”

“I love you more, Arsenal.”

“Fuck off, Chelsea.”

“You first.”

“Never.”

**********

A/N: figured that i need to write and use that as a coping mechanism before i just spend the rest of my life curled up in a ball sobbing my heart out! 👍🏼👍🏼

[dangermousie]

2023 Kdramas I am excited for

We have only a bit over two months in the year left, but it looks like kdramas saved the best for last. Here is the list of kdramas I am excited for...

Boyhood/Once Upon a Boyhood (November 24) - Siwan hasn't done a bad drama and I am in the mood for a nostalgic 80s piece. I am a little amused that a 35 year old is gonna be playing a high schooler, but in a fond way.

Castaway Diva (October 28) - I am very fond of Park Eun Bin and if anyone can sell the whimsy of a tale about a woman who was a castaway and then becomes a pop star, she will. Not fond of the new trend for 12 eps but it is what it is.

Goryeo-Khitan War (November 11) - my most anticipated for the rest of the year. Every casting and crew choice, every promo makes it look like an old school politics and war heavy sageuk that does not cater in the least to youth or even fusion sageuk subgenres and I am here for it so so so MUCH!

Gyeongseong Creature (December) - not a big fan of netflix originals but I am there for the cast and the setting.

The Matchmakers (October 30) - looks like a wacky period romp with Rowoon and Cho Yi Hyun. I don't have high hopes for it because I like my period stuff angsty, but whatever else, it's gonna be pretty pretty pretty!

Moon In the Day (November 1) - except for GK War, my most anticipated for the rest of the year. Reincarnation/time travel story that flashes back between modern day and Silla - GOD YES!

My Demon (November 24) - sounds like shoujo crack about a demon who loses his powers and enters into a contract marriage (of course) with a human. Done many many times before but I am always a sucker for the trope.

Perfect Marriage Revenge (October 28) - first of all, I have a huge weak spot for Sung Hoon. He's a limited actor but between New Tales of the Gisaeng and his role in Faith, he won my heart forever. But also, this plot is so old school melo the way they don't make it nowadays. Our FL is betrayed by her sister and her husband and dies. But she wakes up before her marriage and decides to do things differently and get revenge. She gets married in a contract marriage to our ML, a chaebol (of course) played by sexy Sung Hoon and...doesn't it all sound like those delicious transmigration novels made flesh?

The Story of Park's Marriage Contract (November 24) - I love time travel/time slip stories and the fact that this is a woman who ends up in the modern day where she comes across the dead ringer of her deceased husband makes it high class Durian, plus Lee Se Young is a wonderful actress who rarely picks wrong.

Tell Me That You Love Me (November) - a remake of my favorite jdrama of all time, Aishteiru to Ittekure, this story about the relationship between a deaf painter and an aspiring younger actress is going to give me the adult love story I crave. The fact that the legend that is Jung Woo Sung is back in dramas, and is playing the ML, is just the perfect thing. (His last proper drama was Padam Padam in 2011!!! He is mainly a movie star.)

Vigilante (November 8) - I am just here to see Nam Joo Hyuk kick people in the face.

Welcome to Samdalri (December 2) - Shin Hye Sun and Ji Chang Wook in a romcom mmmmm. I don't have any pics so have:

[soulofapatrick]

They Find Out You're Pregnant: Teen Wolf Boys part one

Summary: How each boy finds out you're pregnant

Words: 4K altogether

warnings: unplanned pregnancy but mostly fluff

As I step into the bedroom, I sense the tension thick in the air, swirling around Stiles like a storm cloud. He’s curled up on the bed, facing away from me, and I can tell he’s not asleep despite the lack of his usual cute little snores. His shoulders rise and fall with a rhythm that betrays a restlessness I’ve come to recognise all too well.

“Sti, baby?” I press, desperation creeping into my voice. I need him to look at me, to see past whatever wall he’s built between us. Cold eyes and a scowl meet my gaze when he finally turns to face me, and it feels like knives piercing my heart.

“Stiles, what did I do?” I press on, desperate for him to look at me, to see those beautiful brown eyes and his cute little nose and his quirky little smile that has me feeling giddy. Instead, I’m met with cold eyes and a scowl as he burrows further into the bed as if he wants to disappear and it breaks my heart. 

“You know what you’ve done, asshole!” His words sting, buried back in the pillow, yet his pain is palpable. It’s then that I realise — he’s found the test. The pregnancy test I took last night, discarded in the bin, not thinking Stiles would see it until I was ready. Dread settles in my stomach as I know what he must think as we haven’t done anything for a few weeks as the full moon happened and now boom, pregnant test. 

“Sti, listen to me.” With resolve, I move closer, needing him to understand. He tries to evade me, but I’m quicker, using my werecoyote strength to turn him onto his back. We wrestle for a few moment, not wanting to make Stiles feel utterly powerless, until the fight in him leaves and I’m straddling his waist, holding his arms down gently but firmly. 

“Mieczyslaw Noah Stilinski,” I use his full name, a last resort to get through to him, and his resistance finally melts away. His tear-filled eyes meet mine, vulnerability shining through the facade of anger. 

“Stiles, baby… Stiles, I’m a coyote,” I start, trying to explain the complexities he may not fully grasp or have thought of. He nods, his expression pained, as if bracing for the worst, “We have heats and ruts. Stiles, that test was mine.” The weight of my words hangs heavy in the air between us. His blush telling me he’s embarrassed, but he’s trying to understand. 

“You’re pregnant?” His voice is quiet, laced with a mixture of hope and disbelief. I just nod, feeling a rush of relief that the truth is finally out. 

“Yes Stiles. I’m pregnant with our child.” I say it plainly letting the enormity of the revelation sink in. His reaction is immediate— he sits up abruptly, catching me off guard with a headbutt that he seems oblivious to in his rush to kiss me.

The kiss is desperate, passionate, a floodgate of emotions breaking open. Stiles’s hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer as if he's afraid I might disappear. My hands cup his face, fingers trembling slightly with a mix of relief and apprehension. His lips move against mine with a hunger that matches my own, seeking reassurance and connection in the midst of uncertainty. Every touch, every caress speaks volumes—of love, of fear, of hope.

When we finally pull apart, breathless and flushed, our foreheads lean against each other, eyes closed as we try to catch our breath. My fingers thread through his hair, tangling in the messy strands that I’ve come to adore. Stiles’s hands linger on my waist, his touch grounding me in the reality of our shared moment.

The intimacy is interrupted by the sudden creak of the bedroom door opening, a stark reminder of the world outside our bubble of emotions. We break apart reluctantly, turning to see Noah Stilinski standing there, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. His gaze flickers between us, understanding dawning slowly as he takes in the scene before him.

"I... I need to go sit down to wrap my head around this," he says softly, his voice thick with unspoken questions and paternal worry. With a brief nod to us both, he retreats downstairs, leaving Stiles and me staring at each other in a mixture of disbelief and joy.

"Fuck!" Stiles breathes out, a nervous laugh escaping him as he runs a hand through his hair, still trying to process everything. I can’t help but chuckle softly, the tension easing as we share a moment of raw, unfiltered emotion.

Our hands find each other naturally, fingers intertwining as we sit. The weight of what lies ahead hangs heavy in the air, but so does the undeniable bond between us. Stiles turns to me, his eyes searching mine for reassurance, for confirmation that we're in this together.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks, his voice soft yet filled with a myriad of emotions—love, concern, excitement, and a touch of fear.

I squeeze his hand gently, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay. We're okay," I assure him, knowing that while the road ahead won't be easy, we have each other to lean on.

Stiles leans in, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, a silent promise of his commitment and love. "I love you," he murmurs against my skin, his words a soothing balm to the uncertainties swirling around us.

"I love you too," I reply softly, feeling a surge of warmth and gratitude for the man beside me, the father of our unborn child.

I sit nervously on the edge of Scott's bed, my legs bouncing with restless energy as I clutch onto the small gift box in my lap. Each breath feels strained, the anticipation of his arrival causing my heart to pound relentlessly against my ribs. The room is cloaked in a hushed stillness, broken only by the soft murmur of the night seeping through the open window, casting shadows across the room.

The door creaks open, and Scott steps into the room, his brow furrowing in concern as he takes in my anxious posture. “Baby? What's going on?" His voice is gentle, a beacon of calm in the midst of my swirling emotions as he crosses the room to stand before me.

I inhale deeply, trying to steady my trembling hands as I extend the gift box towards him. "Scott, I... I got you something," I manage to say, my voice wavering with nerves that betray the weight of what lies within.

He accepts the box with a curious tilt of his head, settling beside me on the bed. His fingers trace the edges of the wrapping paper, his expression shifting from curiosity to confusion as he uncovers the smaller box nestled within.

Opening it, his breath catches in his throat as he sees the pregnancy test lying inside. The reality of the situation crashes over us like a tidal wave, and I watch his eyes widen with shock and disbelief.

"Scott, I... I got you something," I manage to say, my voice betraying the turmoil within. He accepts the box with a curious expression, eyebrows quirking as I always call him Scotty not Scott, his fingers careful as he begins to unwrap it.

As he peels back the layers of wrapping paper, confusion clouds his features, replaced by disbelief when he reveals the smaller box inside. His breath catches in his throat as he opens it, revealing the pregnancy test nestled within. The implications hit him like a tidal wave, and I watch as shock ripples through him, his eyes widening with a mix of emotions.

The initial shock gives way to concern, his brows furrowing as he processes the reality before him. A flicker of fear crosses his face, accompanied by a tentative hope that he struggles to grasp amidst the overwhelming news. His gaze shifts from the test to me and back again, searching for words that seem to elude him in the moment.

"Scott," I begin softly, tears welling in my eyes as I reach out to touch his hand, seeking connection in the midst of our shared uncertainty. "I'm pregnant."

The words hang heavy in the air, a palpable silence settling between us as he absorbs the weight of my revelation. His hand tightens around mine, a gesture of both support and seeking solace in the face of the unknown.

"Are you... sure?" he finally manages to ask, his voice a whisper laced with disbelief. He meets my gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension, struggling to comprehend the enormity of what lies ahead for us.

I nod slowly, my own voice trembling as I reaffirm, "Yes, Scott. It's yours."

He pulls me into his arms, holding me close as if to anchor himself amidst the whirlwind of emotions crashing over us. His touch is gentle yet firm, a testament to his resolve to face this unexpected turn in our lives together.

"I... I don't know what to say," he admits quietly against my hair, his breath warm against my skin. "But we'll figure this out. Together."

I close my eyes, tears streaming down my cheeks as I cling to him, overwhelmed by a rush of relief and gratitude for his steadfast presence. In that intimate moment, sitting on his bed with the pregnancy test between us, I find solace in the certainty that no matter the challenges ahead, having Scott by my side fills me with a deep sense of hope and determination. 

“I love you so much.”

I stand by the window in Derek's loft, the city lights twinkling in the distance, but my mind is consumed by a different kind of sparkle—a mixture of hope and fear that knots my stomach. The thought had been creeping in lately, a hunch I couldn't shake off, but anxiety held me back from taking the test. What if it wasn't the right time? What if Derek wasn't ready?

Derek enters the room, his presence a comforting solidity in the midst of my swirling thoughts. His sharp gaze locks onto me, sensing my unease despite my attempt at composure.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice a soothing balm that momentarily eases my nerves.

I turn to face him, trying to hide the turmoil beneath a forced smile. "Hi," I reply, my voice catching slightly.

He takes a step closer, concern etched into the lines of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asks, his tone gentle yet probing.

I hesitate, unsure how to voice the uncertainty gnawing at me. "I... I've been feeling off lately," I finally admit, my gaze flickering away from his intense scrutiny.

His expression softens, understanding dawning in his eyes as he pieces together my unspoken words. "You think..." he begins, his voice trailing off as he seems to catch on to the implications.

I nod slowly, unable to meet his gaze as tears well up in my eyes. "I think I might be pregnant," I confess in a hushed tone, the weight of the admission hanging heavy in the air.

Derek's breath catches, his shoulders stiffening imperceptibly before he takes a deep breath, closing the distance between us in a few long strides. He pulls me into his arms, holding me close as if to shield me from the uncertainties swirling around us.

"I had a feeling," he admits quietly against my hair, his voice a mixture of awe and tenderness. "But I didn't want to push you.” 

Relief floods through me at his understanding, his acceptance offering a lifeline in the sea of doubt. "I've been scared," I confess, burying my face against his chest as tears spill over. "Scared of how you'd react.”

Derek's arms tighten around me, his embrace offering reassurance and warmth. "I'm here," he murmurs, his voice a promise. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together.”

In that vulnerable moment, surrounded by Derek's comforting presence, I feel a surge of courage. Slowly, I pull back, meeting his gaze with a tentative smile. "I think I should take the test," I say softly, my voice wavering with a mix of hope and apprehension.

He nods, his expression unwavering as he brushes a stray tear from my cheek. "Let's find out," he agrees, his voice steady. Moments later, we stand in the bathroom, the air thick with anticipation. I take the test, heart hammering in my chest as I wait for the result. When the faint positive line appears, tears of joy and relief spill down my cheeks.

I emerge from the bathroom, the test in trembling hands, and Derek's eyes lock onto mine. Without a word, he crosses the room in quick strides, falling to his knees before me. His hands gently push my shirt up, his lips pressing tender kisses against my barely-there bump.

Emotion swells within me—tension and uncertainty giving way to a rush of overwhelming love and tenderness. Derek's actions speak volumes, his touch a promise of unwavering support and boundless affection.

"I love you," he murmurs against my stomach, his voice reverent and filled with awe. 

Tears blur my vision as I run my fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the depth of his emotions. "I love you too," I whisper, feeling the weight of our shared journey settling into a tender certainty.

In that intimate moment, surrounded by love and hope, I know that no matter what lies ahead, Derek and I will face it together, our bond strengthened by the miracle growing within me.

I stand in the hallway of Liam's house, clutching the pregnancy test tightly in my hand. The hallway feels strangely quiet, the air heavy with anticipation and nerves. Liam had just returned from a late-night patrol with Scott, and I knew I had to tell him, but the fear of his reaction kept me rooted in place.

The front door creaks open, and Liam steps inside, his exhaustion evident in the lines of his face and the weariness in his movements. His eyes meet mine, concern flickering across his features as he senses my tension.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asks softly, his voice filled with genuine worry as he approaches me.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I hold out the pregnancy test towards him. "Liam, we need to talk," I manage to say, my voice trembling with nerves.

He takes the test from me, confusion clouding his expression as he examines it. Recognition dawns slowly, his eyes widening with shock as he realises what it means. The test falls from his hands, forgotten, as he turns to face me, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

"Are... are you serious?" he finally manages to ask, his voice cracking with emotion. His hands tremble slightly as he reaches out to touch my arm, seeking confirmation amidst the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind.

I nod slowly, tears welling up in my eyes as I meet his gaze with a mix of fear and hope. "Yes, Liam. I'm pregnant," I admit softly, the weight of the truth hanging heavy in the space between us.

His breath hitches, his eyes never leaving mine as he struggles to process the enormity of the news. "But how...?" he begins, his voice trailing off as he searches for the right words.

“Well, when a man and woman love each other a lot-“ I start to say and he rolls his eyes playfully, punching me in the arm lightly so I continue, joking aside, ”I... I didn't know for sure until now," I explain, tears suddenly welling up in my eyes as I try to convey the intensity of my emotions. "But I had a feeling, and I finally took the test."

Liam wraps his arms around me suddenly, pulling me close as if he's afraid I might slip away. "I... I don't know what to say," he admits against my hair, his voice thick with a mix of disbelief and overwhelming love.

Tears of relief mingle with the uncertainty that still lingers between us, but in that moment, held in Liam's embrace, I know that we'll face whatever comes next together. Our journey into parenthood may be unexpected and filled with challenges, but knowing Liam is by my side fills me with a profound sense of strength and hope for our future.

As we stand there in the hallway, wrapped in each other's arms, I feel a wave of gratitude for the love we share and the new life growing within me—a testament to our bond and the possibilities that lie ahead.

The first rays of dawn peek through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over Isaac's bedroom. I wake slowly, cocooned in warmth and the comforting weight of Isaac's arm draped protectively over me. His steady heartbeat beneath my ear lulls me into a serene half-awake state, where for a fleeting moment, everything feels perfect.

"Morning," Isaac murmurs sleepily, his voice husky with sleep as he brushes his nose across my shoulder before pressing a kiss there, loosening his grip on me so I can roll over and face the surly haired werewolf, feeling at peace and oh so in love.

I smile softly, relishing the tranquility of the moment before reality nudges its way into my consciousness. But, of course, as if on cue, a subtle queasiness stirs in my stomach, a sensation I’ve been experiencing the last few days. Panic flares briefly, but I try to dismiss it, not wanting to disturb the peace between us.

Isaac senses my restlessness, his gaze searching mine with concern. "You okay sweetheart?" he asks gently, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek.

I nod slightly, swallowing down the rising unease. "Just... feeling a bit off," I admit reluctantly, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily.

But before I can say more, a sudden wave of nausea grips me, and I bolt out of bed with startling urgency, breaking free from Isaac's embrace. "I... I'll be right back," I manage to choke out, mouth watering warningly, my voice strained as I hurriedly make my way to the ensuite bathroom.

Isaac's confusion turns to alarm as he watches me go, the sound of my retching echoing through the closed door. He's by my side in an instant, his concern overriding any sense of personal space as he pushes open the door to find me leaning heavily over the toilet.

"What's wrong?" he asks urgently, his hands hovering anxiously over me as he assesses the situation.

I lean over the toilet, gasping for breath as I struggle to regain my composure. "I don’t know, ive been sic every morning for the last week. I can’t stand certain food anymore… I just want ice cream” I’m suddenly crying, my voice barely audible over the rush of emotions.

Isaac's eyes widen in shock, his hand coming to rest gently on my back as he kneels beside me. “Baby, are you… are we pregnant?” he repeats incredulously, the reality of my words sinking in slowly.

Those tears just stream down my cheeks harder, unable to process what Isaac is saying but somewhere deep in my gut knowing he’s right. "I've been feeling off for a while," I explain haltingly, the weight of the confession hanging heavy in the air. “But I thought it was a bug. Didn’t want to worry you.”

He pulls me into his arms, holding me close as if to shield me from the uncertainty that now defines our future. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he murmurs against my hair, his voice thick with a mixture of awe and concern.

"I didn't want to worry you," I repeat softly, my heart aching with the fear of his reaction and the overwhelming rush of emotions coursing through me.

Isaac's embrace tightens around me, his touch a reassuring anchor amidst the whirlwind of uncertainty. "We'll figure this out," he reassures me, his voice steady and filled with determination, “I want to start a family with you.” 

“You do?” 

“I am in love with you. Only you.” 

“I’m in love with you too.”

I lie in bed, tossing and turning, my stomach churning with waves of nausea, sweating and just feeling generally shit. The clock ticks relentlessly, each passing minute feeling like an eternity as I wait for Jordan to return from work. I've been feeling off for days now, a probable stomach bug or stress from all the shit that has been happening in Beacon Hills recently. 

The front door finally creaks open, and I hear Jordan's familiar footsteps padding down the hallway. Relief washes over me as he enters the bedroom, his presence a comforting presence in the dimly lit room. He quickly strips down to his boxers before he slips under the covers beside me, his warmth immediately soothing.

His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back against his chest, relief washing through me as if he can heal me with just his touch. In my drowsy state, I lean into his touch, seeking solace in his embrace. His hand rests flat against my stomach, and I wince slightly at the sensation but some of the nausea fades and a soft sigh of relief escapes me.

"Jordan," I murmur, my voice thick with sleep and discomfort.

He shifts slightly, making me roll onto my back to face him. His bright eyes search mine, concern etched in his furrowed brow. "When were you going to tell me?" he asks softly, his voice tinged with a hint of worry. His hand cupping my jaw, thumb brushing lovingly over my fever flushed cheek.

Confusion knots my brow as I try to make sense of his question. "Tell you what?" I manage to ask, my voice laced with exhaustion and confusion.

His gaze lingers on me, his expression softening as realisation slowly dawns in his eyes. “Sunshine…” his breath comes out in a soft gasp, “Sunshine, you’re pregnant," he states quietly, his voice filled with a mix of awe and certainty.

My breath catches in my throat, my heart skipping a beat at his words. "What?" I whisper, stunned by the revelation.

Jordan's hand slides from my cheek down to my stomach, his touch gentle yet purposeful. "I can sense it," he explains quietly, his fingers tracing a soothing pattern against my skin. “I… I don’t know how but I can sense it… I can feel the change in you."

Tears well up in my eyes, a rush of emotions overwhelming me—surprise, disbelief, and a flicker of hope. "I... I didn't know," I admit softly, my voice trembling with the weight of his words, “I thought it was the flu.”

He leans closer, his forehead resting against mine. "It's okay," he murmurs, his breath warm against my lips. “I love you baby, we’re gonna have a baby.”

He’s shuffling around until he’s laying on his back, my head resting on his chest as he knows how soothing his heartbeat can be, especially when I can’t sleep and before I know it I’m drifting off to sleep with one thought on my mind. 

“You’re gonna be the best dad ever.” 

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@alexxavicry @guacam011y @fandom-princess-forevermore @bellatrixxmarierose

[uwunnie]

You told us that we’re the light to you and you can’t shine without us, but I hope you found that your words have always applied to you. You’re our moon who finally met the star, and I sincerely hope you found the peace and happiness you were searching for. Thank you for the time you gave us, and please continue being the glow that ignites our paths as we walk down this dreary road.

You will always be the brightest light, Moon Bin.

[candiedspit]

Smear Frame (1992)

The night I got home from the hospital, we had peas and squash and good chicken. Nobody spoke. The radio spoke for us; vitamin deficiencies, lights spotted across Vegas, another building demolition. The first couple of days, I stayed in my room throwing a ball against the wall, doing long division in my head. The television playing a documentary about squid brains. On the third night, mama asked what I was planning to do.

You can be a thing in the world, she told me.

We were in the kitchen, the evening light staining the windows above the sink.

You do have a choice, she continued. But you choose to suffer like an idiot. Even the rabbit knows better than to follow the wolf.

Learn something, Jane.

And she left the room. I held her words in the belly of my chest, going over them again and again. That night, I got dressed in my trench coat and went out to the middle of town. The lights were buoyant and fresh, amazing slashes, amazing range. The moon was pinned against the skies like a cop’s badge. I stepped into Lousy’s which was a bar I had been to before. I liked it because it was dark and cold. I often pretended I was in a cave or in some sort of comet, minutes away from approaching the quiet tendrils of earth.

I ordered a Shirley temple and sat at the bar watching the bartender spin and shake and serve drinks.

What’s the drink with the longest name? I asked.

A terrible, unearthed bitter and lame dirt tonic, he said.

I mused on this for a while and eventually someone spoke to me. An older woman wearing red and large earrings asked me what time it was. I shrugged.

Maybe sometime around midnight, I said.

Don’t you have a watch? She asked. What kinda man doesn’t have a watch?

The question of my masculinity continues to come under fire, I laughed.

So, what’s your problem? She asked. Why are you here at maybe sometime around midnight?

I got out of the loony bin last weekend, I said. I’m trying to map out the world again.

How long were you in there for?

Six weeks, I said.

Do they zap your brain? She asked. I had a cousin like that, always in and out of those places.

How is he doing? I asked.

On the side of the road, she said. Begging for cash, not hiding the bad time he’s having.

That’s admirable. But no, they didn’t zap my brain.

Did they strangle you with Valium?

I was never sedated, I said.

Who put you there?

My parents, I said, I was seeing the holes in the plot, could see the failing strings in the fabric of the universe, the whole picture. I stoped eating, stopped sleeping. All I did was play chess with spirits and paint my nails over and over again. I showed the woman my hands. See? They’re clean.

The woman was quiet, sipped on her drink. I continued.

It was sorta nice, I admitted, not speaking to anyone but sounding out the idea.

Being taken care of like an infant who can’t speak. You get medication in the morning and you moan about the news. Someone starts screaming. Someone stops screaming. You go into a dreamless, milky sleep. And your roommate mumbles in his sleep, sweet robotic poems. And you don’t have a pencil so you commit them to memory; a fog roars, abstain, chapel, chapel, chapel. And you disappear from the world. Headlines float around every day and you wander around the unit making funny faces to entertain yourself and someone calls you and they ask how you are and you tell them you can’t wait to go home. And then you get home and the world is indifferent.

Cheers, the woman said.

And we clinked our glasses. Around three, the woman stood up and gave me her number and shook my hand and left. I kept the slip of paper in my coat pocket. I went out to walk by the river-end, watching the rising of the waters, the night reflected on the surface, dark rivulets. A sort of vile peace.

A couple of months afterward, I found work at a fish market. Slicing trout in half and packaging swordfish into white papers. The work was mindless, bleeding work. Nobody spoke to me. I smoked cigarettes. When I got home, the house smelled of blood.

A while later on, I called the woman. I was on my way home from work. I had not spoken to another human being in ten hours. I had forgotten what my voice sounded like. I could see myself getting slower by the minute. Words died in my head like vermin. The woman answered within four rings. I explained who I was. The boy in the trench coat. It was nighttime and we spoke for a while. You were drinking a tall martini and every so often would dive into your purse to fix your lipstick.

You sound different, she said.

I feel different, I said. I feel like an aspirin. I feel like a headache that won’t resolve.

Where are you? She asked.

By the river, I said. I like seeing the water enunciate. Where are you?

She told me she was making tea for her husband.

He’s not feeling well, she said. I’m doing what people say to do; ginger and saltines and warm baths. But he’s persistent with his pain.

Some people are, I said.

The clouds are fragrant tonight, I continued.

It’s getting late. I can see my mother checking the time, fidgeting in the kitchen then checking again. It’s something I relish. Getting home late. The worry she must feel. The worst things happen in your brain. Perhaps I fell down a flight of stairs. Perhaps I cut my hand open on a knife and I’m in the hospital bleeding out beneath the fluorescent lights. She has a feeling but doesn’t want to endorse the feeling in case it becomes a truth. And when I arrive at last, the feeling subsides and instead is replaced with a mute disappointment. I am the one she loves but not the one she missed.

I began to call the woman—whose name I never bothered to ask for, I wanted to name her myself—often. When I was on my lunch break barely eating a tuna sandwich. When I was smoking cigarettes. When I was in my room reading the newspaper and playing with myself. When I was half asleep.

Once, I was naked in bed with the radio on, and there was a sullen exasperation in my stomach. I felt as though I knew when I was going to die and if I focused long enough the date would come to me, would emerge from the foggy brain matter and I would be freed. I had been thinking of death for weeks. Death was my babe, my habit. I had visions of my own death. Dying struck by a moving car and being stuck in the tire. An aneurysm so I’m alive one moment and exploding the next. Being stunned by a bullet and feeling my cells gasp in unison.

Death is an orgasm, I told the woman one night. Death is a great, wondrous love. You go into the light. You feel peace for the first time in your pathetic silly little life.

You sound twisted, the woman said. Death is what you avoid, everything you do, you do to put death out. Your bravado is not going to protect you from what will happen or what has happened.

That winter I was sleepless. I slept for thirty minutes at a time, watched the sunrise slur into my windows, made tea for my parents and gutted samurai fish and wrapped tuna and walked around town, dreaming of poisonous gas. Sometimes, I choked on my visions.

One afternoon, I felt a pop in the back of my head and walked out of work during my lunch break. And walked straight home. When my mother saw me, she placed me on the couch and pointed a flashlight in my eyes and placed a cold towel on my forehead. I mumbled for the angels.

I had been in the hospital for two weeks when I called the woman, I had been blotted out and cast into a week of sleep. I was feeling alright.

What kind of dreams have you been having? The woman asked,

I don’t dream, I told her. I stumble in and out of sleep like a newly born calf. I feel like I’m full of milk, a white calmness in my arteries, a saline stillness.

Come see me, I said. Come see my blue scrubs and bandaged fingers and dirty acne and limp, sedated gait.

I will, she said.

It was New Year’s Eve when she came. The nurses had hung up garlands and the television played the ball drop in New York City; that mirage a thousand light years away.

We were given virgin champagne and the nurses counted down with us and the woman was there, her hand on my back.

Focus on living one breath at a time, she said. Count the breaths until you forget you’re even counting.

The year turned over onto her stomach. That night, I laid down and recounted the poem again.

Chapel. Chapel. Chapel.

[pillow-anime-talk]

12 fluff promt for uta plz

# tags: scenario; current relationship; soulmate!au (tattoos); light romance; fluff; couple goals; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. uta {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hope u like it :) have a nice day/night!

12. “But we are not married.” “Then marry me.”

Punk music played at medium volume and spread throughout the building, and you jiggled your right foot to it while keeping your both eyes on the colorful magazine in your hands. From time to time you also glanced at your boyfriend, Uta, who was a few meters away from you, tattooing another client who wanted a huge red dragon across the entire width and length of his back. His concentration was really intriguing, and not even your warm gaze could snap him out of trance.

That’s why, after a few tries, you focused entirely on the thick periodical, reading about the biggest fashion bloopers of this month and dozens of romances in the world of showbiz stars.

{ ･ﾟ✧ }

After another three hours, Uta finished part of the tattoo and thanked his male client for staying in the uncomfortable position for that time. Together with a middle-aged man who had a black beard and dark eyes, they agreed on the last meeting, and thus the last part of the beautiful painting that was to appear on the right shoulder blade. They shook hands, wished each other a nice evening, and then Uta closed the front door to his small tattoo studio, which he had been running for years on his own with no other employees. He turned off all the lights, then returned to a room decorated with a tattoo table, several cabinets, special equipment and a trash bin.

There was also a small, dirty-green leather couch and a table with a glass surface. There was you on the sofa, clutching a magazine in your hands, though your eyes were squeezed tight and your mouth slightly open. The calm face and light movements of the chest spoke loudly about the fact that somewhere in the middle of Uta’s work you fell asleep, and the only thing that appeared in your sleepy thoughts was the desire to drink a cup of coffee without milk and sugar.

For a brief moment, Uta didn’t have the heart to wake you up because he knew your life had been quite stressful in recent days and you had a lot of responsibilities in your private life, but at the same time, he didn’t want your head to hurt after this short nap, or worse, your back and neck.

Before waking you up, however, he glanced at one of the hands that was touching the paper and smiled at the small tattoo adorning your little finger. The drawing showed a full moon; light streaks and lines were made with the utmost precision – the tattoo looked like a real moon that can be found in the sky. After briefly glancing at your finger, he looked automatically at his own left hand and the left corner of his mouth twitched. On his pinky there was a drawing of the same size – the only difference was that there was a tiny sun on his pale skin.

He sighed though, touching your soft cheek covered with gold highlighter.

“... Mgmhm...” You muttered something unintelligible under your breath, which made the man laugh again. “Uta... It’s your turn to... Y-You have to take our kids to school... Mhm...” You said a little more clearly, though your voice was still quiet, muffled by yawns and the desire to stay asleep. It was, after all, close to eleven in the evening.

“Kids?” He raised an eyebrow and the silver earring a bit up. “But we are not married.” He added directly into your ear, and you wiggled your nose, keeping your eyes shut.

“Then marry me.”

Surely you dreamed something nice – there was a slight smile and a huge blush on your face. Uta gave up and decided not to wake you up. Instead, he lifted your body off the couch with no problem. He had placed the magazine on a glass table a moment earlier, next to a small candlestick and a vase of dead roses.

You were already soulmates, and that meant the bonds of marriage. Nevertheless, the vision of you two with a bunch of children and then grandchildren, although too beautiful, did not have to be unattainable.

[straylightdream]

let me in your ocean - 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐦

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: seo changbin x f.reader

↳ late nights spent at the pool drinking wine, and crossing lines friends normally don’t cross.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut warning listed below the cut, drinking, skinny dipping

𝐚𝐧: this is a part of a series of short one shots with all the skz boys that take place in the middle of the night the link can be found in my masterlist for skz. If you would like to join any of my Stray Kids taglist please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: friends to lovers, drinking, skinny dipping, semi public sex, sex outside, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), Changbin has a size kink.

Late nights spent with Changbin were nothing new to you. Your time with him was usually spent away from friends. Sitting with your legs in the warm swimming pool you gazed up at the bright moon. Nudging your shoulder against his you can’t help but smile. Glancing over at him you watch him bring the bottle of wine to his lips. He takes a swig of the red colored wine before passing you the bottle.

A shitty day at work led to Changbin calling you and asking you to come over. Without thinking twice you drove over to his house.

Taking a drink of the strong wine your eyes focus on the thigh that is pressed against you.

“I hate my job,” he sighs. He’s been going through a rough patch at work and has mentioned wanting to quit often to you. When you receive a late night phone call from him after midnight you know he had a rough day. He greeted you at the front door holding a bottle of wine asking you to stay the night and drink with him.

“Bin, why don’t you quit?” You know this isn’t a simple thing he can do. He makes really good money working at his job and is fully able to afford this house because of his job.

“I wish I could,” he pushes his thigh against yours. He reaches over to take the wine bottle from your hand. He takes a big drink before setting it down on the concrete next to him.

“The water feels warmer than I expected,” you say, breaking the silence between you.

“You know we’ve never gone night swimming before.” He’s not wrong, you've never gone night swimming with him. “Why don’t we go now?” He stands up.

You look up at him knitting your eyebrows together. He has to be crazy. It's one in the morning and you don’t have anything to wear. “Bin I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“That’s fine. We can either go in our underwear or naked.” His mood seems slightly lifted as he pulls his shirt off revealing his beautiful skin. You’re left sitting there staring at him unsure of what you should do. He kicks off his gym shorts and left standing in front of you in all his glory in nothing but a tight pair of black boxer briefs. He holds his hand out for you and without another thought you stand up. You pull off your sweater and shorts and are left standing in front of him half naked in nothing but a pink bar and polka dot undies. This moment feels more intimate then you’re used to with him. Reaching toward you, his hand rests on your cheek before he pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. His touch is warm and welcoming. You could easily get lost in this moment with him. Leaning forward he presses his lips to cheek for a gentle kiss. You’ve shared kisses on the cheek throughout your whole friendship, but this feels different in your heart.

He steps back smirking at you. “I needed you tonight,” his words seem to knock your world sideways.

He jumps into the pool leaving you standing there watching him. His head pops up and he smiles at you. Butterflies take over your stomach as you watch him swim.

“Are you going to join me?”

Taking a deep breath you dive in head first into what the night could hold. The water is warm but not as warm as you were expecting. Pushing your feet at the bottom of the pool your head breaks through to the night sky. Changbin is right there swimming in front of you. The large pool feels so incredibly small as you take in his closeness. His hand reaches our resting on your side as he pulls you closer to the shallow end. There is no distance between you as his arms wrap around your waist holding you close to him. Your chest is pressed to his chest and your noses are brushing.

“You are the only person who makes me happy. I had the worst day at work and I only wanted to see you.”

Closing your eyes you can’t help but smile, “Changbin you make me really happy too.”

“I want to kiss you so badly,” he sighs.

“You should kiss me then.”

His lips crash into yours without another word. Kissing Changbin feels like a breath of fresh air. Your fingers tangle in his hair as your lips continue to move together. He’s kissing like he needs to breathe and in that moment you think does. Pulling away from him you can’t help but smile.

“I really needed that,” he says.

“I think I needed that too.”

You step back and swim out towards the deep in. You can feel his eyes burning into you as you swim back towards him. Stopping in front of him he grabs your waist pulling you towards him again. His hands move towards your butt signaling for you to wrap your legs around his waist. Normally you would complain about him picking you up, but with the water making you feel weightless you can’t complain.

“I have wanted to kiss you for so long.” You can’t help but smile at his statement. His hand roams your back as lips attach to your neck. “I want so much more with you,” he says with his lips ghosting your skin.

“You can have anything you want,” you make the bold choice to grind your hips against his. Reaching behind you to unclasp your bra tossing it out of the pool leaving you topless.

Everything around you doesn’t feel like it exists as Changbin kisses every part of your skin he can reach. His hand grope your breast earning a moan for you. He holds you like he desperately needs you. Only putting you down so he can remove his boxers leaving him naked. Standing in the shallow end you kiss him like you’ve wanted to do for a long time. Reach under the water stroking his already hard cock. The moans that pass his lips are sinful. You could get used to touching him like this. He pulls away only to help you take off your undies leaving you just as naked as him under the night sky.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, pulling you close again. You wrap your legs around his waist grinding your bare core against his hardened erection. You haven’t felt this wanted in such a long time.

It’s not long before Changbin pulls you both out of the pool. His lips can’t seem to stay away from your skin for very long. He has you sitting on the patio table outside standing between your legs. He slowly pushes into you, earning a moan. Both your eyes are locked two where you’re both connected. Changbin is definitely thicker and bigger than anyone you've ever been with. Your breathing is heavy as you try to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god you’re big,” your statement earns a smirk from him.

“Is my cock too big for your tiny pussy?” If you weren’t already wet you would be now. Hearing Changbin talk dirty to you could easily make you weak in the knees.

“Binnie,” you can’t think of anything else to say to him.

“Yeah pretty?”

“You feel so big and so good,” you sigh.

He starts moving with steady but deep thrust. One of his hands grip the table while the other holds your side. Your fingers are tangled in his hair holding him close to you. With each thrust he pushes close and closer to the edge. It’s not long before you find yourself falling apart moaning his name. Your high washes over you as Changbin continues to thrust into you. His last few thrust are sloppy before he pulls out and pumps his length finishing on your thigh.

Leaning forward he rests his forehead against yours and a soft laugh passes his lips. “I have wanted to do that for a while.”

You can’t help but smile because it seems like your crush on Changbin wasn’t one sided. Funny how a terrible day can turn around when you’re with the right person.