#d!

Oh my friggin gyatt

Sorry I haven't posted art in like. A while

There's this one song that I've loved for quite some time. Idk if u know it, but it's called "Lovers Do - The Brummies".

AND IM JUST NOW REALIZING THAT THE WHOLE SONG SCREAMS FLYBOY!!😭

Now I'm sinking in deep a sea of green eyes

Feel your lips on my cheek and taste the red wine

Listen to it im begging you. Cause it's the soundtrack to flyboy in my head take it or leave it

Brb re-reading ur masterpiece again just to feel something

I AM LISTENING TO YOU AND THE SONG BABY.

ahhhhhh the feeeeeels 🥺 i have my phone hooked up to my sound system so it is everywhere, and my god - this vibe 🥺

can you imagine then having a lazy weekend afternoon in bed in her apartment, because it’s raining 😭 helppppppp.

-

(Context: Flyboy - but readable without)

You are flopped back in your bed, the rain pelting down against the windows of your apartment. You can hear the howl of the wind, and the gentle rumble of thunder somewhere far away. You are a tangle of sheets, legs, arms, limbs, and Jake. You are sunk down in bed, your head is against his chest, his arm around you, you flipping the pages of a book in your fingers, and Jake’s gaze focused on the television mounted on the wall.

You can smell the faint oaky notes of the wine glass Jake had just emptied not too long ago, each time he breathes out, mixing in with the scent of his soap. He shifts, the side of his face falling against the top of your head, and you can feel the scruff on his jaw rub against your forehead.

You lift your head off from his chest to glance at him. It forces Jake to move his head off yours. He doesn’t glance back, his eyes still trained on the screen in front of him, but he turns his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to your forehead. You take him in, hair mussed, face scruffy, but still devastatingly good looking - just letting himself be him, Jake, with you.

He feels you staring a second longer than anticipated and Jake looks down, his greens meeting your eyes. You see the twitch in his jaw, indication that he is about to speak, and you drop your book in your lap, raising a hand to tug his face down to yours before he can. Jake lets you, and your lips meet, slow, unhurried, luxuriating in nothing but each other. You can taste the wine on his tongue.

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