Valentine's Day One Shots // Greta Van Fleet

Satiate

Satiate (verb) to satisfy (a need/desire) fully or to excess

Quinn POV:

I wake to the sound of birds chirping, and I feel the early morning light streaming through the curtains. I lay there for a moment before gently wiping the sleep from my eyes and sitting up. I reach for my phone on the bedside table, checking the time.

6:45, Perfect. I have plans this morning.

I tuck my phone in the waistband of my sleep shorts and slowly, quietly creep out of bed. I tiptoe across the bedroom, pausing before I open the door. I turn back to look at Josh. Watching him sleep is one of my favorite things to do in the mornings. Seeing his wild curls splayed against his silk pillowcase, always such a diva. The way His left arm rests against his forehead. His lips softly part as he breathes deeply.

My eyes travel the expanse of his bare chest, pausing occasionally on my favorite freckles.

He begins to stir as if he can feel my eyes on him, and I wait for him to wake up and 'ruin' my surprise.

Instead of waking, he lets out a muffled mmmph and flips over, arms reaching out for my side of the bed.

Light from the window dances over his skin, the light always seems to find him, and I'm tempted to crawl back into bed with him.

I watch for a few more moments as his breathing evens back out, and then I make a break for it, leaving the door cracked.

I softly pad through the house and into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise.

I start the coffee maker and search the cabinets for pancake ingredients.

By my estimation, I have about an hour before Josh wakes up and 30 extra minutes before he makes his way out of bed, which should give me just enough time to bring him breakfast in bed.

I fill a tray with stacks of fluffy pancakes, fresh fruit, and the rest of the fixings. I know that Josh loves a bit of whipped cream in his coffee, always such a sweet tooth, so I pull the can of Reddi-Whip out of the refrigerator and place it on the tray, too.

I take a moment to admire my handiwork before carefully walking the tray back to the bedroom and pushing the door open.

To my surprise, he's still asleep. I set the tray on his bedside table and kneeled beside the bed. I take another moment to admire him.

He's always go, go, go, go, so it's nice to see him calm.

Without thinking, I reach out and begin tracing light patterns up and down his arm. I slowly move my fingertips, watching goosebumps erupt against the skin beneath them.

Josh shifts and lets out another mmmph, his brows furrowing at the tickling sensation.

I let my fingers still for a moment, a sly grin overtaking my face.

Once his brows smooth, I allow my fingers to start back up.

My fingers flit up his arm, and I allow them to venture to his chest. I get lost in tracing the dips in his collarbones and down his sternum, paying special attention to the freckles that dot his chest. I let my fingers move across his stomach and down to where the blanket is slung low across his hips.

I watch his muscles contract as I tickle the small patch of hair below his belly button.

As I move to make another pass, his hand snaps out and grabs my wrist.