The public eye || Jake Gyllenhaal

"better than he thought"

Jake's thumbs lingered at the edge of your bra, his touch gentle but deliberate, as though waiting for any sign of hesitation. His lips trailed down your neck, his breath warm and electrifying against your skin. He paused, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.

"You're sure?" he asked again, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, your lips curving into a soft smile. "I'm sure."

Jake's smile matched yours, a mixture of relief and anticipation flashing in his eyes. He leaned in, capturing your lips with his again, this time with more urgency. His hands explored your back with slow, measured movements, his touch setting your nerves alight.

The room seemed to fade away, the sound of the city outside muffled, leaving just the two of you in this moment. His kisses trailed from your lips to your jaw, then down to your collarbone, his breath hitching as his hands roamed over your waist. You could feel the way he was holding himself back, as though he didn't want to rush anything.

Your hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. "Jake," you murmured softly, and he froze, looking up at you with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Yeah?" His voice was barely above a whisper, his hands still resting on your waist.

You bit your lip, feeling a sudden wave of vulnerability. "I just... I'm not used to feeling this way. With anyone."

His expression softened instantly, the intensity in his eyes giving way to something tender. "Hey," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You don't have to explain. I get it." He paused, his hand resting on your cheek. "We'll go as slow as you want."

A wave of gratitude washed over you, and you leaned into his touch, your forehead resting against his. "Thank you."

Jake's lips curved into a smile against your skin. "I'm not going anywhere," he said softly. "I'm right here."

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. The intensity of the moment shifted, the charged air between you softening into something comforting and warm. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close, and for a while, neither of you spoke. The sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear was steady and soothing.

Eventually, Jake broke the silence. "You know," he said, his voice laced with humor, "if we don't eat that pizza soon, it's going to turn into cardboard."

You laughed, the tension melting away. "I guess we'd better rescue it, huh?"

He grinned, easing his hold on you. "Come on. Let's eat and then maybe... we can see where the night takes us?"

You nodded, the flutter in your chest giving way to a sense of ease. "Sounds like a plan."

Jake helped you off his lap, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary, and the two of you settled on the couch with the pizza box between you. As you each grabbed a slice, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and playful banter. The earlier intensity was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but it felt different now—more grounded, more real.

When the pizza was gone and the city lights outside began to dim, Jake got ready to leave, his expression soft as he was standing in your hallway putting his shoes on "I had a good time tonight," he said, his voice sincere. "Really good."

You smiled, your heart fluttering again. "Me too."

Jake reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "So, I didn't murder you" That's good, right?" he teased, his grin returning.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "I was joking about the murder, you know."

"Sure you were," he said, squeezing your hand gently. "But just in case, maybe I'll wait until the tenth date before I do it."

You shook your head, your laughter filling the room, and for the first time in a long time, you felt completely at ease.

Jake leaves and as the night wore on, you couldn't help but wonder if this—whatever it was—could be the start of something real.

His kiss from earlier is lingering on your lips. It's impossible to not think about it, they were so soft and warm compered to my cold ones.
GoThe ping of an incoming tact illuminated your phone screen as you lay in bed, staring at the celling. With a curious smile spreading across your face, you reached for your phone.

It was Jake. His text read: " Hey, I know it's late and I know that I have already said it but I just wanted to say (again) that I had an even better time tonight than I thought I would. You're really great, Y/N. Night." A warm feeling spread through your chest as you read his words, your heart skipping a beat. Well that was until you started to reread it, it seemed so innocent but the more you started to over analyze, you notice a specific part of the text. Did "better than he thought" mean he wasn't expecting to enjoy your company? Or was he merely expressing that the night exceeded his expectations? But does that mean he had very low expectations on you. It was slowly driving me crazy, maybe I'm just overthinking it? Maybe I'm not?