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therealmrsgojo · 2 months

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Timeless

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: you have been dreaming of a man ever since you were little; different lives with him were spent in your dreams, but when you wake up, his face becomes blurry, and you forget his name. maybe, in your real life, you might see him too. warnings: past lives, reincarnation au, kinda inspired by a song called timeless, soldier gojo, captain gojo, doctor reader, mentions of injuries, dreams, death, angst, comfort, and happy ending. word count: 10.5k

"I know that you and I would've found each other In another life, you still would've turned my head."

Present day

Sitting in the hospital break room, you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of your exhaustion.

The walls around you are stark white, and you lean back in your chair, cradling your third cup of coffee for the day. Despite the caffeine coursing through your veins, you can't shake off the fatigue that has settled into your bones.

Still holding your coffee, you trudge the hallway toward the restroom, your feet dragging on the tiles. You're grateful for the brief respite, a chance to relieve yourself, and take a moment to collect your thoughts.

You entered the restroom, and you glanced at yourself in the large mirror above the sink.

"What a sight you are." You can't help but chuckle at your unkempt hair, crumpled collar, and slightly moist eyes that beg for rest. You quickly run your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth it down and look presentable.

As a third-year general surgery resident at the prestigious University of Tokyo Hospital, you know that exhaustion is par for the course. Your days are filled with evaluating patients, obtaining medical histories, performing physical examinations, and assisting in surgeries.

In spite of the exhaustion and doubts that creep into your mind, you remember that one gratitude from a patient can make it all worth it.

Helping people has always had your heart in it.

You finished using the restroom and washed your hands at the sink, cleaning rigorously. After drying your hands, you grabbed your coffee cup and sipped the last bit of your warm beverage before disposing it in the nearby trash bin.

Exiting the restroom, you checked the time on your watch and realized with dismay that you had been working tirelessly for 14 straight hours. Your mind and body begged for rest.

Sighing deeply, you called it a day and reached for your smartphone to text your colleague about your departure. You made your way towards the rest areas of your residency building, eager to collapse on one of the double deck beds.

Entering the rest area, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the inviting beds that you had been dreaming of all day. You remove your top shirt, knowing no one is around to see you and replace it with fresh clothes from your mini drawer.

After removing your shoes, you crawl onto the soft mattress and let out a small laugh of contentment.

"Fucking finally." You stretched your limbs and pulled the blanket over your body, feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath, feeling the day's stress slowly melt away as you drift off to sleep.

1944

The morning was calm and peaceful, with warm kisses pressed onto your skin, creating a sense of comfort and safety. You could feel your husband's hands roaming around your waist as he whispered sweet promises on your skin.

Slowly waking up from your slumber, you reached out to the hands holding your waist, sensing something amiss.

"Satoru, what's wrong?" Your worried voice asked as you looked at the man hugging you as if it were the end of the world.

"Just hugging my beautiful wife," he replied with a smile as he moved closer to you, kissing your lips lovingly and slowly. You gazed at him, seeing his white hair and piercing blue eyes that always made your heart ache with love and longing.

As the kiss ended, you whispered, "It's today, isn't it?" His smile faltered, and you could sense the anxiety and fear in his eyes.

It was today, the day your husband was to be deployed to the war. You felt a churn in your stomach as you remembered all the stories of the horrors of war and the uncertainty of whether he would return home alive or not.

You avoided his gaze, afraid that he would see the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You knew you needed to be strong in front of him, to support him and lift his spirits. You didn't want him to be stressed or distracted on the war front, as that would be the last thing he needed.

"Sweetheart," he said, his voice low and soft, "Can we hug more before we get out of our bed? I wouldn't mind being late today if that means I get to be with you more."

Without a word, you nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly. You looked into his eyes and said, "I love you."

"I love you too, (Y/N)," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

Minutes that felt like seconds passed, and before you knew it, your husband was walking away from the porch of your home. You watched him leave as you stood on the porch of your home, cradling your hands to your chest.

It was hard to hold back your tears as you watched him walk away, the distance between you growing with each step.

But then, Satoru turned back, looking at you with a pained expression. Without hesitation, he ran back to you and tightly wrapped his arms around you. You sobbed, feeling his tears fall on your shoulders.

"I promise to get back home as soon as possible, okay? Don't be too sad. I promise I'll come back to you. We'll see each other again, every time. You wait for me," he said, his voice cracking with emotion as he cupped your face as if trying to memorize your features.

He kissed away your tears and continued, "I'll write you letters so you won't get too lonely."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of love and sadness in your heart. "Take care of yourself, Satoru. I'll wait for your return," you said softly, holding him close.

Kisses were exchanged, hands were tangled in each other's hair as the two of you promised to see each other again. It was a bittersweet moment, but you knew your love would endure, no matter how far apart you were.

As time flew by, days turned into weeks, which then transformed into months, marking the most prolonged duration you had ever been separated from your husband since your marriage.

The distance between you both seemed unbearable, and the only way to stay connected was through letters sent back and forth. Every word written in these letters was crafted with the utmost care and love as both of you poured your hearts out on the paper.

Gojo Satoru took every opportunity to share the most minor details with you, expressing his love and longing for you.

You developed a daily routine of reading his letters, savoring each and every word as if it were a vital source of oxygen. The mere act of holding those pieces of paper in your hands and tracing your fingers over his familiar handwriting brought you a sense of comfort that nothing else could.

It was as though your heart could only find solace in the assurance that he was still out there; he's alive in the middle of the war, thinking of you and missing you just as much as you missed him.

Letters that can soothe the ache in your chest.

I can't even begin to describe how much I miss you, my dear wife. Every single day, from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to bed, you're on my mind. I think about the way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you move, the way you talk, the way you love. You are the most important person in my life, and I cherish every moment we've spent together. I know we're apart right now, but please know that my love for you is as strong as ever. I hope to see you soon, hold you, kiss you, and tell you how much you mean to me. You are the light of my life, my light in this war. I love you more than words can express, and I can't wait to be with you again.

As you finish reading the final lines of the latest letter you received, you can't help but feel a warm glow spread across your chest. You place the letter on your bedside table, making a mental note to write back tomorrow and express how much you appreciate their words.

With a contented sigh, you reach for your comb and carefully work out the tangles and knots in your hair. The rhythmic motion of the combing is soothing, and you feel yourself growing more and more relaxed as you prepare for bed.

After caring for your hair, you finally finished and decided to call it a night. You tossed and turned around the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail.

A deep frown formed on your face as you kept your eyes closed, hoping that sleep would eventually come.

You let out a deep breath, slowly opening your eyes to find that your husband's side of the bed is empty. Your heart sank as you stared at the vacant space beside you, looking bare and empty.

You try to shake off the feeling, but it persists, and you find yourself unable to look away from his spot.

After several minutes of staring at the bed, you finally pull yourself out of it and walk to the closet. You start digging through your husband's clothes, searching for something that still carries his scent.

Finally, you find one of his shirts and hold it up to your nose, taking a deep breath.

The familiar scent of his envelops you; tears start streaming down your face as you clutch the shirt to your chest, whispering silent prayers for your husband's safety. You sob into the shirt, longing to be with him and wishing that he was there to hold you to sleep.

You were only able to sleep, hugging his clothes tightly on your chest.

Another month passed, and you found yourself walking back to your humble abode, a basket full of fresh produce tightly clutched in your hands. The sun began to set, and the sky was painted with hues of orange and pink.

You smiled as you thought about the meal you would prepare for your husband, Satoru, later that evening.

You received a letter from him just last week informing you that he would return home today after being finally discharged from the war.

Standing in the kitchen, you were determined to prepare the dish to perfection, having the recipe memorized like the back of your hand. You carefully measured the ingredients, double-checking each one to ensure everything was just right. As you stirred the pot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction at the sight of the fragrant steam rising from the mixture.

You knew your husband deserved the best and were determined to give him just that.

With each passing moment, your anticipation grew as you imagined his face with his bright blue eyes, knowing he would like this delicious meal he craved from his letters.

The savory aroma of your cooking wafted through the entire kitchen as you put the finishing touches on the plates and set them on the dining table.

Everything was ready; all that was left to do was wait for your significant other to arrive.

You walked over to the living room and positioned yourself near the front door, where you could see and hear anyone approaching. You checked the time and noticed that it was getting late. You couldn't help but wonder if he would be later than usual.

As the hours ticked by, the darkness of the night seemed to grow heavier, food forgotten and cold as your anxiety began to mount.

You waited patiently, but worry was evident on your face. You found yourself staring at the clock, hoping to see his arrival soon.

The minutes turned into hours, and your eyes grew heavy as you sat alone, waiting for him to arrive.

Eventually, you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer and decided to rest, thinking that his knock would wake you up.

You were startled by a series of loud knocks on your door. Your eyes fluttered open just in time to catch a glimpse of the bright sunshine peeking through your curtains.

You realized that you had slept through the entire night, and it was morning.

Feeling a sudden rush of excitement, you quickly got out of the couch and dashed towards the door, a wide grin spreading across your face. You were unfazed by the delay. All that mattered was that your husband had finally arrived.

You opened the door, and a tall and muscular man with long black hair partially tied up in a man bun greeted you.

Your smile faded, and your heart sank as you realized he was not who you were hoping for.

"Good morning, I'm looking for Gojo Y/N," he said softly.

"I am Gojo Y/N," you answered, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. You wondered who this man was and why he was looking for you.

He then started to search his backpack, and you finally took notice of his clothes. It was no doubt that he was in the military, judging by the clothes he wore. He wore a green camouflage shirt and pants and a black tactical backpack slung over one shoulder.

Finally, he pulled out an envelope and a dog tag, which he held out to you. Your heart began to race as you saw the familiar handwriting on the envelope - it was your husband's.

"What?" You took the items with your trembling hands, muttering, "What is this?"

Your mind had some understanding, but your heart refused to believe.

"We were on our way back when a sudden explosion took place. It occurred from the military truck he was riding with. Despite our efforts, we couldn't find survivors or even bodies. It was a devastating experience that left us shaken and heartbroken." He started, eyes looking down as he continued, "I am sorry for your loss -"

"Stop," you interrupted him firmly, lips quivering with emotion, "Please stop."

He looked at you with a mixture of sorrow and concern. "I'm Geto Suguru," he introduced himself, his voice gentle. "Tomorrow, we will be holding a memorial for them, even if we don't have the remains. You can find me there if you go. I'm sure Satoru wouldn't like for you to be alone. He would hate me if that happened." He paused momentarily, adding, "I'll come back and check on you. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Leave," you said, your voice shaking with emotion. You didn't have the strength to look at him, so you turned around and closed the door loudly.

You took heavy steps towards the bedroom, feeling the weight of your grief crushing down on you. As you entered the room, you sank to the ground, the letter still clutched tightly in your hand.

You began to hyperventilate, your chest heaving with sobs as you struggled to catch your breath. You let out a loud, piercing scream, the pain and anger in your heart bursting forth. You threw the letter to the ground and shouted curses into the empty room, your hands gripping your hair tightly as you rocked back and forth.

"You're a liar!" Tears streamed down your face as you shouted, consumed by the overwhelming heartache and anguish that had taken hold of you.

Reading that letter would mean accepting his death, and you refused to do so.

You cried uncontrollably for hours, hugging yourself tightly as if to protect yourself from the harsh reality. Your face was puffy and red from all the tears you shed as you called out for your husband's name, wishing this was all a dream.

But deep down, you knew he wouldn't come back. If only you had known, you would have never gone to the trouble of cooking his favorite meal, fixing his clothes, preparing his bath, or smoothing the side of his bed.

Now, all you have is you, sitting amidst the dark walls of your home and the weight of misery that surrounds you. It's a deep grief that seems to envelop you like a heavy blanket that you can't escape from.

The only sounds you can hear are the sobs escaping your lips and the breath you no longer want to take. You look around, taking in the familiar surroundings that, once filled with hope that he would return as he promised you, are now unattainable and shattered.

A sense of heaviness seems to saturate every corner of the room, leaving you feeling adrift and detached from the world outside.

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, time seemed to slip away unnoticed. Before you knew it, the sun had set, and darkness enveloped the room.

You realized with a start that you had been sitting in the same spot for hours, unmoving, ever since you received the devastating news about your husband.

Your mind was racing with a million thoughts and emotions, and you felt utterly paralyzed by the weight of it all.

As you looked around, you noticed the letter your husband had left on the ground, still untouched. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready to face whatever was written inside. But then you took a deep breath and made up your mind to read it.

Slowly, you reached for the letter, fingers trembling with anticipation and anxiety.

As you unfolded the paper, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you as you saw your name first.

My dearest Y/N, If you are reading this letter, it means that I have departed from this world, my wife. But I have not left you. I could never leave you alone, not even for a moment. I would never do that to you. I want you to remember that my love for you will never die, not even in our next life. I will carry it with me always, wherever I go. As a soldier, I am aware of the risks involved in every mission, and I write this letter to you with a heavy heart that I can barely breathe, hoping that you will never have to read this, and if you do, please forgive me. The time we spent together was the best years of my life, and I cherish every memory we created. When you came into my life, heaven had opened its gates for me. Knowing you was the most incredible honor I could ever have. Even if gold or silver is placed on my grave, nothing will ever compare to the love you've given me. I don't have any major regrets in my life, but if there is one thing that I wish I could have done differently, it's that I wasn't able to give you the gift of a family. I know that having children was important to you, and it hurts me deeply that I wasn't able to make that happen for us. I hope you can forgive me for not being able to fulfill this dream of ours. I am scared, Y/N, scared that you will not take care of yourself, scared that you will forget about me. Please promise me that you will care for yourself and live a long and happy life. I do not want you to worry about me or grieve for too long, for I will always be with you, watching over you. Please always remember that I love you more than anything in this world. I promise I'll return to you, and we'll find each other again in our next life. You can count on that. You can rely on that. I could write endless letters, but I don't want to cause you any more pain. Please know I'll always be with you; I will keep my promise. Your husband, Gojo Satoru PS: I know that we will meet again, my wife.

You feel a tremble in your hands as you finish reading the letter your husband wrote to you. Tears flow down your cheeks despite the pain that it causes your eyes, as you have been crying for hours.

You hold his letter tightly against your chest, whimpering your husband's name as you take shallow breaths. The words he wrote to you are etched deeply into your heart and soul, as they are the last you will ever hear from him.

Gojo Satoru had loved you until his very last breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, 'Toru," you croak out, sobbing uncontrollably as you whisper apologies like a mantra that could somehow bring your husband back to life.

You regret calling him a liar earlier, and you wish that you nothing but take back those words.

Present

You suddenly opened your eyes, whines leaving your lips and the heaviness in your chest. You were crying.

Confused and disoriented, you looked around the room and noticed Shoko, your colleague resident doctor, sitting beside you. She had a startled expression, but she was doing her best to gently comfort you by patting your back.

You knew you must have been dreaming again, but the details were hazy and blurry. It was strange and unsettling, like you had just awakened from a different reality.

Trying to recall the details of the dream, you realized that it was vivid, but you couldn't remember everything.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, Y/N. You have been crying and trashing in your sleep." Shoko gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Another weird dream of yours?" She added, giving you a bottled water.

You nod in agreement, feeling a bit dizzy. Shoko was your childhood friend whom you have known since grade school. She had been the person you had confided in about your strange and unsettling dreams for as long as you could remember.

You took a sip of water and tried to gather your thoughts. "This time, he was a soldier, and he, he died," you muttered, barely able to articulate the jumbled images that had been plaguing you. "God, I swear I can see his face and say his name in my dreams, but it's all blurred now."

Shoko nodded sympathetically, her expression one of concern. "This has been going on since we were kids, Y/N," she replied, her voice gentle and soothing. "I remember the last time you cried like that, was when you told me about that white-haired man and how you ran away together because you were supposed to marry another man." She paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "I suggested that you seek help, maybe from a dream interpreter or something."

You take a few moments to regain your composure and try to piece together what happened.

The memories of your past dreams rushed back to you, and you were sure it had been the same man you had never met before.

"I don't really have the time for that right now. I can barely manage to go home and visit my mom," you replied, gripping your hair in frustration. Your best friend then stood up to take off her lab coat.

"I also researched some things about that," Shoko said, trying to reassure you. "It can be your past life or past memory."

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. "I think I'm going insane," you muttered, entirely overwhelmed by the situation.

Your best friend chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, that's another possibility, too," she said. "Especially since you've never even had a boyfriend at the age of twenty-five. You're a hopeless romantic, my friend."

You couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. You had tried to put yourself out there, going on blind dates and meeting new people, but nothing ever seemed to stick. You just couldn't seem to fall in love, no matter how hard you tried.

And now, with these dreams, you felt even more lost.

"I feel like I'll betray him if I did," you mumbled to yourself, feeling guilty for even considering the possibility of falling in love with someone else. You knew it was irrational, but the thought of being with anyone else didn't sit right with you.

You glanced at Shoko and wished her a quick goodbye, knowing that she was going to take some rest now. You then got up from bed, feeling refreshed after a good six-hour sleep.

You walked over to your assigned drawer and picked out all the necessary items; you went to the bathroom to shower.

The warm water cascaded down your body, washing away all the tiredness and exhaustion from your mind. As you finished your shower, you quickly dried yourself off and got into the fresh set of clothes you had picked earlier. You then took a moment to dry your hair and put some moisturizer on your face to keep it hydrated throughout the day. Lastly, you applied a thin layer of pink lipgloss, ensuring your lips were soft and supple.

After getting ready, you checked your phone and saw a few notifications reminding you of your daily responsibilities.

With a deep breath, you set out to tackle the day head-on, feeling energized and motivated to fulfill all your duties.

You made your way down the hospital's long hallway, and your footsteps echoed through the corridor. You straightened the collar of your white lab coat, feeling the cool fabric against the back of your neck.

Approaching a corner, you saw two nurses chatting quietly to each other behind the information table. Nobara, one of the nurses, noticed you and greeted you with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Dr. Y/N!" she exclaimed, holding a folder towards you. "Here are the files for the patients you'll be doing morning check-ups on today."

You took the folder and smiled back at Nobara, appreciating her enthusiastic attitude. You flipped through the pages, taking note of any potential issues or concerns.

The hospital loudspeaker blared out, "Code Blue, Code Blue! All available doctors, nurses, and medical staff near the emergency room are needed. Code Blue." It was a clear indication that something serious had happened that required the attention of all medical personnel in the vicinity.

Without wasting time, you quickly handed your folder to Nobara, who stashed it away and promptly moved to join you. The two of you rushed to the emergency bay, and as soon as you arrived, your eyes widened in shock as you saw a chaotic scene; medical personnel were running around, attending to the patients.

Stretchers were being hurriedly moved around, and people rushed around the hospital room in a frenzy.

As you tried to take in the situation, a first-year resident named Maki called you, "Dr. Y/N, there has been a shooting incident, and we were instructed to apply first aid as soon as possible." Her voice was filled with urgency, and you knew that time was of the essence.

"Got that, Maki. Nobara, please gather some supplies." You immediately got to work, assessed the situation, and walked towards the patient nearest to you.

You heard Nobara's footsteps approaching; she quickly laid out all the necessary medical supplies beside you. Your focus was solely on the patient before you, and you worked with precision and care as you began cleaning the wounded area. The nurse beside you looked on in amazement as she watched you work.

"Dr. Y/N, I must say, I have never seen someone work as swiftly and diligently as you do," she mumbled in awe, her voice filled with admiration. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle in response before turning your attention back to your patient.

After skillfully completing the stitching procedure on your patient, you took a minute to ensure everything was perfectly in place.

You then carefully removed your medical gloves, disposing of them safely while relaying crucial information regarding the next steps your patient needs.

"Help! My captain needs help, anyone please!" You suddenly heard a panicked voice calling out. You turned around to see a man with pink hair, dressed in a green military uniform, running towards you with a look of desperation on his face.

He then grabbed your wrists and pulled you towards one of the bed stretchers in the hospital.

You gently removed his hands from your wrists and asked, "What happened? How can I help?" The man was panting heavily, and it took a moment for him to compose himself. He explained, "My captain needs help urgently. He's been injured protecting me, and I think he stopped breathing. I don't know what to do."

You quickened your pace upon hearing his explanation, and as you approached the scene, you caught a glimpse of his captain lying on a stretcher, looking pale and in pain.

But as you moved closer, your eyes widened in shock as you recognized the white-haired man lying on the stretcher, the same man who had been evading your dreams ever since you were little.

Throughout your life, this man has appeared in your dreams, eluding your grasp and leaving you with a sense of longing and curiosity. He has also been a constant presence in your thoughts, occupying your mind as you go about your daily life.

When you were in high school, you found yourself drawing him in the back of your notebooks, trying to capture his essence on paper.

There were times when you even cried over him, missing him despite never having met or even knowing his name.

This man has left an indelible mark on your heart and soul; now he is in front of you, unmoving and not breathing.

"No, no, no." The memories of your last dreams played in your head, making you panic, and your breaths became labored as a surge of panic engulfed your body, causing you to tremble uncontrollably.

Suddenly, Nobara's voice called out your name, breaking you out of your trance. "Dr. Y/N! Are you okay? He's not breathing," she said, noticing your distress, as she sat beside the man.

You immediately sprang into action, shouting orders frantically, "Step back, now! Get the Defibrillator and ECG Machine, immediately. Call for a cardiac doctor, too."

You quickly propped yourself on the man's bed, removing his pillow to flatten his body. Your hands pressed down on his chest as you began giving him chest compressions, counting 30 on your head while taking notice of his face.

You weren't mistaken. It was him. How could you ever forget his face?

Tears welled up in your eyes as you continued with the chest compressions, making sure the steps were precise and accurate. Nobara returned a moment later, quickly followed by one of the cardiac doctors named Utahime, who placed the medical equipment on the body of the white-haired man. But your focus remained on the compressions as you ignored everything else.

Utahime noticed the sweat on your forehead and offered to take over, "Dr. Y/N, I can take over." But you shook your head, "No. Start working with the Defibrillator, please. I'm almost done."

You and Utahime worked together, following the necessary steps to revive the man. The minutes seemed like an eternity as you could barely breathe due to nervousness.

Finally, you heard his heartbeat back in the monitor beside you. You stared at him, your hands shaking lightly as you finally calmed down.

One medical staff wheeled the captain into one of the rooms, and Utahime turned to you, "Do you know him? Don't worry; he is in good hands. We'll do everything we can to help. Everything is under control now. You can take a rest."

You fulfilled your other responsibilities, your mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of the white-haired man you had encountered. Despite the passage of time, he continued to linger in your thoughts. His face kept flashing in your eyes.

Throughout the day, Utahime informed you about the man's condition, providing updates on his progress as he received medical attention.

You expressed your gratitude to her for keeping you in the loop, and she promised to let you know as soon as he woke up from his unconscious state.

"Y/N," you were startled by Shoko's arrival, "You haven't eaten, have you? I heard you helped with the emergency earlier, too. Come on, let's eat." She said.

You nodded wordlessly, following your friend to the cafeteria. As she ordered, Shoko noticed that your eyes were fixed on the ground, and you kept sighing. Sensing that something was troubling you, she asked, "What's wrong? Tell me."

You hesitated at first, not knowing how to convey your thoughts. You finally took another deep breath and said, "I don't know if you'll believe me, but I met him earlier." You sighed, feeling a heavy weight in your chest as memories of him flooded again in your mind.

Shoko looked at you quizzically and asked, "Who?" You looked back at her, not knowing how to answer when you didn't even know the man's name. It took a few minutes for her to understand, but when she did, she let out a loud screech of shock and shouted your name. "What? What's his name? Where is he? What happened!?" she asked, her hands shaking your shoulders.

Shoko's expression softened as she saw the tears welling up in your eyes. "Oh, I see," she said empathetically. "How can you be sure that it's him? What are your plans, honey?"

"It's him, Shoko," you said, feeling your voice shake a little. "I can't believe that I even forgot his face. But I don't know. I feel like I should not approach him at all. I would sound like an insane person if I ever did."

She sighed and said, "Who said you need to tell him immediately? You can just drop by and say hello. Let fate play out on its own, Y/N. You don't need to do anything about it."

You smiled at your best friend, grateful for her advice and carefree attitude that you needed. You spent the rest of the meal together, describing him to her and enjoying each other's company.

You were bidding farewell to Shoko outside the hospital cafeteria when she received an urgent call for her assistance in surgery.

You watched her quickly approach the operating room while you headed toward the elevator to check on one of your patients. As you approached the nurses' station, you noticed a familiar figure - a man with distinctive pink hair, eyes scanning the area intently as if searching for someone specific.

He was the pink-haired boy who asked for your help. As you approached him, you noticed his anxious expression and asked, "Sir, is everything okay?"

He seemed taken aback momentarily before gathering himself and responding, "Oh, there you are, Miss Doctor! I was looking for you." He scratched his head awkwardly and continued, "I just want to thank you personally for saving my captain. We owe it all to you." He bowed deeply, his gratitude palpable.

You smiled warmly at him and patted his shoulders when he stood straight again. "Thank you for acting so quickly. Your help made it possible for us to save him."

The boy beamed, a light flush rising in his cheeks. "Thank you again, Dr. He's very important to us all," he said earnestly.

You were intrigued by his words and asked him to elaborate. "Really?"

The boy looked surprised by your question and answered, "Yes. Tell me anything you want, and we'll try to do it for you in return."

"Well, do you mind telling me his name?" you asked shyly, your eyes avoiding his gaze as you gripped your coat.

"Huh? Um, yeah, he's our captain, Gojo Satoru," the boy replied, looking at you curiously.

Gojo Satoru.

When he spoke the name, you felt a jolt of recognition run through you. It was a name you had never heard before, but you couldn't quite place it where. It felt familiar as if you had muttered that name countless times before.

"Does, does he have blue eyes?" Your voice was barely above a whisper as you struggled to control your emotions.

The man across from you tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Yes," he finally answered, his tone growing more puzzled by the second. "Why do you ask?"

Feeling your heart thump back in your chest, you replied quickly, "Just, just because. I better be going now. I have some work to do." You turned around to start walking away, your mind racing about what could happen if you stayed.

However, before you could get too far, the young boy's voice cut through the silence. "Doctor! Once he wakes up, please pay us a visit! So he can thank you too in person." You kept walking, answering him in silence.

You had faced challenging surgeries and worked consecutive shifts in the hospital, but the thought of seeing him again in his awakened state sent shivers down your spine. You didn't know if you had the strength to face him.

It was as if you weren't wishing to meet him throughout your life, wondering if he would love you as he did in your dreams.

The day ended, and you left your workplace and walked home to your apartment, which was located nearby. You were looking forward to your rest day, scheduled for tomorrow.

Utahime texted you in the morning to inform you that Gojo Satoru had finally woken up, letting you know there would be no complications.

You spent the day resting, finding it difficult to sleep as your thoughts kept returning to the white-haired man.

You were scared that he might not even spare you a second glance, and you felt a sense of helplessness as you wondered about the possibility of him being discharged from the hospital quickly.

This could mean you would lose the chance to meet him again and be left in the dark about his whereabouts.

Despite your fears, you found yourself walking back to the hospital in the afternoon, unable to resist the urge to catch a glimpse of him, even if he was far away.

You felt a mix of emotions - hope, fear, and uncertainty - as you tried to calm your nerves and prepare yourself for whatever lay ahead.

Let fate play out on its own, Y/N.

You arrived at the hospital, and friendly staff greeted you warmly when they saw you. You explained that you were just there to retrieve something you had forgotten from the doctor's resting quarters.

Your nerves didn't stop you from walking on autopilot, your feet carrying you toward the private room where he was supposedly resting.

You longed to see his face, hear his voice, and just to see him again.

When you approached the room, you noticed the door was slightly ajar, and you could hear laughter and voices coming from within.

You were about to leave when a familiar voice called out your name, and you turned to see a pink-haired boy beaming at you. He was holding a brown bag filled with snacks, and a dark-haired boy stood beside him, nodding at you in acknowledgment.

"Miss doctor!" the boy exclaimed. "Did you come to visit us? He's awake now, too."

"I just happened to be passing by, dear. I'm sorry to disturb you," you replied, trying to keep your voice calm.

You turned your gaze back to the private room and noticed the door was now open wide, and the people inside had heard your conversation. Your eyes widened as you finally saw Gojo Satoru, the man you had been thinking about all day.

He looked at you with his cerulean blue eyes, witnessing your conversation with the pink-haired boy; his white hair was slightly unkempt, and his skin glowing as the sun reflected off it.

His head was slightly tilted as he inspected your face, and he looked ethereal.

You were so lost in his gaze that your background blurred, and it was as if the two of you were in your own little world. It took some time before he finally spoke out, "Yuuji."

You broke the staring contest you had with him and felt a rush of blood to your chest as you avoided his gaze. "Come on, let me introduce you," Yuuji said, holding your elbow and guiding you into the hospital room.

As you walked into the room, you noticed that the people with whom Gojo Satoru was laughing earlier excused themselves before you came in. You cleared your throat awkwardly and noticed that Satoru was still looking at you with curiosity in his eyes.

"Captain! This is the doctor I told you about. Be nice, she's your savior!" Yuuji exclaimed while laughing. He put down the brown bag he was holding on the nearby table.

Satoru was surprised and said, "Hello. Nice to meet you, and thank you for everything, Doctor." He gave you a small smile, grateful as his eyes memorized your face.

"It's good to see you up," you mentioned while returning a small smile. You fiddled with your fingers as your heartbeat became louder in your chest, finding it hard to keep eye contact with him.

"Megumi and I have been looking for you, Miss Doctor, since the captain woke up," Yuuji interjected, mentioning the black-haired boy beside him, whom you realized was Megumi.

"It's actually my day off every Sunday. I just needed to stop by to get some things," you countered, explaining your civilian clothes. "And you can call me Dr. Y/N; just Y/N is fine, too. Whichever you prefer."

The pink-haired boy laughed, and a blush crept on his cheeks as he told the efforts Megumi and he made to find you. His stories made you laugh, especially when you learned that Nobara scolded them for accidentally entering the nurses' resting room.

"We aren't hogging you, are we?" Satoru's voice cut you off, and he added, "Since it's your rest day, you should be resting. I apologize if Yuuji disturbed you." His stare observed your reaction.

"Oh no, not at all; I'm about to leave anyway." You bowed, embarrassed.

"Thank you again, Dr. Y/N. Let me know if I can do anything for you." He softly spoke, giving you another sweet smile.

"You can return the favor by not letting me see you in that state again, Satoru." To your surprise, he seemed to be taken aback when you mentioned his name, and you noticed his eyes widen and mouth agape lightly as he watched your face.

Yuuji and Megumi stood frozen at the interaction. It was their first time seeing their captain be speechless as he was the one to give snide remarks. But now, they were surprised to see the stoic man seem enchanted when you mentioned his name.

You were the first to break eye contact, bidding farewell as you quickly stepped out of the room without glancing back.

Walking into the hallway of the hospital, you found your eyes become wet with tears; spilling out of your eyes without your consent. Sobs that you were stopping made your lips quiver.

Your hands balled into fists with sadness and frustration, preventing yourself to have a mental break down out in the public space.

You have faced countless uphill battles during your life, ranging from witnessing some of the most gruesome injuries to undergoing the most complex surgical procedures.

Despite all of the challenges you have encountered, you have never before felt as vulnerable as you do now.

You thought it was the end. You would never see him again. When you mentioned his name, he seemed taken aback, and you thought he might see you as a creep that snoops around patient records. You were not even his attending doctor. You were not his friend, not his girl, not his betrothed, not his wife.

You are not the girl he loved timeless in different timelines, like what your dreams showed you.

You were just a mere doctor who happened to be near when his heart stopped, doing what's expected to treat patients. You are a stranger to him.

Standing inside the empty elevator, the silence seemed to amplify the weight of your emotions. The sobs that have been welling up inside you break free, echoing off the walls of the elevator and filling the air with your anguish.

You felt alone and overwhelmed; the moment's solitude only added to your desolation.

The feeling of being trapped in the small metal box only heightened your anxiety, and you longed for the doors to open and release you from the suffocating confines of the elevator.

It was a painful reminder that sometimes, no matter how much you prayed for something, it's just not meant to be.

You couldn't help feeling a void in your chest as you stepped out, wiping your tears with the sleeves of your clothes, knowing that life is not a fairytale, and dreams will remain just that - dreams.

One week after

In the aftermath of your encounter with Gojo Satoru, you decided to avoid him at all costs and made sure to steer clear of his designated room in the hospital.

Your days quickly became repetitive and monotonous as you focused on your hospital duties and tried to keep your distance from him.

One day, as you were walking outside the cafeteria, you bumped into Yuuji, who greeted you warmly and tried to strike up a conversation. However, you were quick to end it, explaining that you had a lot of tasks to do.

You didn't want to risk getting too close to anyone close to him.

The vivid dreams that had been a constant presence in your life disappeared since your encounter with Gojo Satoru. Although you had once wished for them to stop, they had become a source of comfort and solace for you in your darkest nights, reminding you that someone out there might have loved you in your past lives.

The thought of never having a chance to say goodbye to those dreams was haunting, and you found yourself grieving for them.

It was like letting go of a cherished friend without being able to say goodbye.

Sharing your recent encounter with your best friend, Shoko, she enveloped you in a warm and tight embrace that made you feel safe and secure. Her brown hair tickled your face as she whispered reassuringly that she was always there for you, no matter what. The feeling of her support and care lifted a weight off your shoulders.

Your final shift of the week ended; all you wanted to do was go home, slip into something comfortable, and unwind in the peace and quiet of your own space.

You politely declined Shoko's invitation to hit the town for some drinks, letting her know you needed time alone to gather your thoughts and reflect on the week that had just passed.

"I'm going home now, see you." You bid goodbye to your Nobara, who waved back at you with a happy smile.

"Get some rest, Dr. Y/N!" Nobara hollered after you, making you chuckle as you walked toward the elevator.

As you walked out of the hospital, you were welcomed by a breathtaking sunrise, illuminating the sky with a blend of warm oranges and pinks. The sun gradually creed up on the horizon, casting a soft, golden light on everything it touched. As the wind caressed their leaves, the gentle sway of the trees caught your eye, creating a soothing rustling sound.

The pavement was bathed in a warm, amber light, and it radiated a positive energy that spread throughout your body, leaving you feeling content and serene.

Suddenly, something caught your attention, and you looked up to find yourself across none other than Gojo Satoru himself.

He was leaning casually against a brand new-looking 2022 Cadillac as he donned a luxurious black polo shirt and slacks that accentuated his impressive physique.

His eyes met yours with relief, making it seem like he had been waiting for you.

The scene felt surreal, making you squint your eyes to ensure you weren't imagining things.

You feel your pulse quicken at the sight of him approaching. Every step he took echoed in your ears, drowning out the noise of the crowd around you. Your hands instinctively clenched as you braced yourself for his arrival, nervous as you waited for him.

He stood before you, looking hesitant and unsure of himself. "Dr. Y/N," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please tell me if I'm overstepping or saying too much."

His sudden appearance still perplexed you, and you couldn't grasp what was happening. "Huh?" You answered, hoping to get some clarity.

He took a deep breath and continued, "I'm sorry if this comes out too weird, but I just wanted to offer to drive you home, or maybe we could grab dinner together. As, um, as a thank you." You saw the hope in his eyes as he spoke.

Seeing a military intelligence captain being so nervous in front of you was pretty surprising. Your presence seemed to have impacted them, leaving you wondering about the cause of their nervousness.

"You don't really need to do that," you said, but you immediately regretted your words as his shoulders slumped in defeat. "But I haven't eaten yet, so I find it hard to say no," you continued, giving in to your emotions and favor towards him.

As you spoke, you noticed his eyes widen slightly at your words. His reaction reminded you of one of your dreams, where his teenage self would throw his head back in laughter at your banters. However, you quickly snapped out of your reverie when he called out to you, leading you to his car.

You followed him closely; he opened the passenger door with a gentle hand and helped you settle inside. You fastened your seatbelt while watching him get inside, his hands on the wheel as he started driving.

"What would you like to eat, Dr. Y/N?" he asked, turning his head slightly to face you.

"Anything is fine, and you can just call me Y/N," you replied politely.

"Alright, Y/N," he said, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Hearing your name from his lips made your heartburn, making you remember the familiar voice of his name in your dreams. You turned your head to face the windows, feeling your eyes moisten.

You had heard his voice in your dreams before, and it was a surreal feeling to listen to it now.

"Have you been waiting for me outside?" you asked, still looking out the window.

"Yes, I remembered last time that you told me every week you have Sunday as your rest day, so I waited," he replied as he continued to drive.

"Waited?" you asked, intrigued now. You finally glanced at him with curiosity in your eyes. "For how long?"

"Yeah. For 4 hours. Since I was not sure what time you'll be out," he chuckled, tapping his fingers nervously at the steering wheel.

"What? You could've asked for me. That's too long; I'm sure you have other things to do," you said, feeling guilty for keeping him waiting.

"I didn't want to disturb you, and don't worry because I have requested a leave today, too," he said reassuringly. He stared back at you with a warm smile, his blue eyes shining like the ocean on a sunny day.

You were fully aware of his striking blue eyes, having seen them for the first time when he woke up in the hospital. But every time you looked into them, you couldn't help but feel a rush of admiration for their pure beauty. You two had been gazing at each other for a while, lost in thought and captivated by each other's presence.

Suddenly, a car horn blared behind you, causing both of you to startle. Satoru cursed under his breath and accelerated, seeing the traffic signal turn green. "Shit, sorry."

Stepping into the restaurant, you were immediately drawn to the opulent decor surrounding you. The place was adorned with intricate details that exuded elegance and luxury.

Satoru gave you a warm smile and guided you to your table with his big, gentle hands resting on the small of your back.

You both sat down to eat, the aroma of the food wafting around you; you engaged in light conversation, exchanging short stories here and there. Satoru spoke fondly of his subordinates, sharing anecdotes that painted a picture of a kind, respectful leader who genuinely cared about the people he worked with.

You listened to him speak, and you admired him for his qualities and how he treated his team with the utmost fondness and care. It was evident he was a good person, just like the one you had seen in your dreams.

"Would you like some wine?" he asked, offering a drink.

"Yes, I'll just take a glass or two," you replied, smiling at him as you accepted the glass and sipped the expensive-tasting wine. You watched him drink his wine, too, his eyes fixed on you, making you blush.

"Y/N," he began, "I wanted to apologize for my behavior last time. I fear I may have come off rude by not speaking much and being surprised when you called me by my name. Yuuji mentioned that he told you my name, so I'm sorry if I was taken aback." His eyes seemed to soften as he spoke.

"Okay," you shyly replied, feeling like a teenager again. He took a sip of his wine, then looked up at you with a serious expression.

"To be honest, I've wanted to talk to you for a while now," he said. "Ever since I was a child, there's been this girl that I've been dreaming about. I can't recall much about her features, but one thing that has always stayed with me is the vivid memory of her eyes. They were the most beautiful and expressive eyes I had ever seen. It broke my heart whenever I saw tears streaming down her face in my dreams. I know it may sound strange, but I was mesmerized the first time I saw you because you have the same eyes as the girl in my dreams."

As you stood there listening to him, your heart skipped a beat, and your breath became shallow. His words were like a punch to the gut, "And after I met you, whenever I think of that girl in my dreams, all I keep seeing is your face instead." You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, and your palms started sweating.

"Tell me," you shakily said, "Tell me one of your dreams."

Satoru stared at you, joining his hands on the table as he leaned in. "There are many of them; it's like different versions of myself, but there was this one time that I was a soldier, and--"

"And you died in the war," you cut him off, continuing, "And you left a letter to your wife, apologizing for leaving her, not giving her kids, and saying that you'll meet again."

As you locked eyes with him, you noticed a look of bewilderment on his face reflected in your expression. Both of you were left speechless, lost in contemplation, as you realized your dreams had been intertwined.

"I get them too, Satoru. I see those same dreams every day, but I can never remember your name for some reason. Your face becomes a blur every time I wake up, and it's heart-wrenching," you said, your voice shaking as tears streamed down your face. You instinctively wrapped your hands around yourself, seeking comfort from your embrace.

Satoru looked at you; his heart tightened with emotion as he observed the tears streaming down your face.

At that moment, he realized that his heart still belonged to you, and all his doubts and apprehensions vanished into thin air, realizing that you, just like him, were deeply invested in your shared dreams of the past.

"I could tell it was you from the moment I looked at you, but I wasn't sure if you would know me. It's funny, a year ago, if someone had told me that you were real, I wouldn't have believed them," you said with a bitter chuckle. Your head hung low, avoiding eye contact with him. "Despite that, I always held onto the hope that we would find each other again. I knew you would still turn my head like you did all lives ago."

You rested your hands on the smooth surface of the table. Satoru's hands moved towards you without a second thought. They were warm and welcoming, fitting yours perfectly as if they were meant to be there.

His voice was gentle as he said, "Let's get you home, sweet girl."

Satoru gently wiped your tears away with his thumb, his touch warm and reassuring. He then helped you into the car, carefully protecting your head as you got in. He was extremely careful and attentive towards you, ensuring you were comfortable and safe.

Once settled in your seat, Satoru made sure your seatbelt was fastened correctly. His hands moved precisely, checking and adjusting until he was satisfied that everything was secure.

"Can you tell me your address and phone number?" he asked softly, his hands resting gently on your thigh.

Satoru began to drive, clasping your hands in his, taking a different route than usual. Knowing that he had your best interests at heart, you didn't question it. You trusted him implicitly, knowing you were safe with him above all else.

The car gradually slowed down and finally came to a halt. You gazed out the window and saw a vast, open field that immediately caught your eye.

The scene was so picturesque - the colorful flowers on the sides and the lush green grass in the center welcomed you warmly. And as you tilted your head toward the sky, the countless stars shining down upon you took your breath away, filling your heart with a sense of wonder and awe.

As you both sat down, the silence was filled with the gentle rustling of the leaves and the twinkle of the stars above. The cool breeze brushed against your skin as you gazed up at the sky, admiring the constellations.

After a few minutes, you felt a soft touch on your hand and turned to see him looking at you with a gentle smile.

Without a word, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "I've never been in a relationship before," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours, "Because I was waiting for you, Y/N."

You felt your heart swell with emotion, and a soft smile spread across your lips as you leaned towards him. Wrapping your arms around him, you inhaled the scent of his cologne mixed with his natural musk, feeling the warmth of his embrace as he pulled you closer.

He kissed the top of your head, and you could feel the gentle movement of his lips against your hair. It was a moment of pure bliss and contentment, a feeling that words could not describe.

You spent the moment getting to know each other, from the simplest things like birthdays and favorite foods to the grander things like your hopes, dreams, and beliefs.

It was like two lost souls finally finding their way back to each other, and you felt yourself falling deeper in love with him with each passing moment.

Satoru drove you back to your apartment, chatting and laughing with you. When you arrived at your doorstep, he didn't just drop you off and leave - instead, he walked you towards your door, patting your head affectionately as he said, "I'll text you as soon as I get home. And let's schedule our next date soon, okay?"

You laughed at his eagerness, teasing him, "Date? Have you even asked my permission if it's alright to court me?"

"I'm sure we all know you have been my wife," he teased, flashing his charming smile. "And I'm sure you won't resist my handsome face." His lighthearted comment made you double over in laughter.

Finally, it was time to say goodbye. You closed the door, and your smile slowly faded away. You had expected him to at least kiss you - even a peck on the cheek would have sufficed - but he didn't.

Feeling a bit disappointed, you walked towards your living room, wondering what could have you done wrong. However, your thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly heard your doorbell ring.

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned around and walked back to the door, peering nervously through the peephole. To your surprise, you saw Satoru standing outside, looking just as nervous as you felt.

Opening the door, you were surprised when he grabbed your face without hesitation, lowering his head and pressing his lips against yours. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer still as his tongue darts out to gently sweep across your bottom lip, seeking entry.

With a gentle moan, you open up for him, allowing your tongues to dance in a passionate embrace. He deepens the kiss, using his free hand to tangle his fingers gently into your hair, holding you firmly in place.

He continued to explore every corner of your mouth, savoring the unique flavor that is uniquely yours. You break away from the kiss to catch your breath, only to see his eyes hooded as he stares at you with admiration.

Satoru pulled you into his warm embrace, whispering, "I'll see you soon, my wife."

The endearment immediately made your eyes well up with tears, as it was his favorite in your past life. You held onto him, cherishing the moment.

Eventually, he released you, giving you one last peck on your lips before walking away towards his car. You watched as he approached the driver's seat and waved back at you happily.

"See you soon!" you called out, trying to keep your voice from trembling. Satoru winked at you, making your heart skip a beat.

The memories of your past lives flooded your mind as you watched him drive away, and you were grateful for the chance to start anew. The journey ahead was uncertain, but you were ready to face it together with Gojo Satoru by your side.

Deep down, you knew you were ready to spend this lifetime with him.

Note: Writing this made me cry and emotional, and I hope you liked it. Soldier/Captain Gojo makes my brain melt.

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fuentesnicolaisen3 · 2 years

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shuahoonie · 7 months

Text

unspoken words | jeon wonwoo

pairing: non-idol!wonwoo (svt) x fem!reader

notes: office!au (kinda?), fluff, suggestive jokes, swearing, idiots 2 lovers. alcohol consumption, jeonghan the matchmaker. the one where reader and wonwoo’s paths kept missing each other until they didn’t. loosely based on the song unspoken words by mxmtoon.

word count: 5.1k

summary: you and wonwoo always had a complicated relationship— no matter how hard you two tried, your lives had a funny way of getting intertwined.

and stubborn may you both be, wonwoo will always admit his feat when it comes to you.

part of the to x, with love mini series

shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist

“i never asked you to stay,” wonwoo muttered as you helped him clean up after the info session that your work had conducted for a group of students.

“this is ridiculous,” you sighed more so to yourself “there’s no way you could’ve done this by yourself.” you said while you held the blue recycling bin, gathering all of the leftover flyers and other papers that had writing on them. you also had a separate bin for the coffee lids and cup sleeves to put in the recycling as well.

“you could’ve just left,” wonwoo was watching you the entire time, making a mental note that you were serious about putting away your trash. “i know seokmin is waiting for you in the lobby.”

“it’s okay.” you replied, not even bothering to look him in the eye. instead, you gathered everything in a neat pile.

“you shouldn’t keep him waiting,” the words came out so harsh when he said it. even wonwoo was surprised, he wasn’t usually like this.

“he’ll be fine,” you said dismissively, not really in the mood to argue with him.

“yn,” wonwoo calls your name as if he hated doing it. “go.”

it took everything within you to stop yourself from yelling at him. “your anger will mean nothing,” seokmin’s words would ring in your ear. so you took a deep breath, dropped what you were doing and left without another word.

“oh, seok, i was ready to pounce him.” you grumbled, stabbing the lettuce on your salad a little too aggressively.

"what, like sexually?" seokmin realized it was a bad joke. the way you were practically throwing daggers at him made it painfully obvious that you were not in the mood to kid around. "i'm sorry, yn, but you really need to lighten up."

"if there's anyone who needs to lighten up, it's him," you argued, munching on your greens. "in fact, maybe i should light him up."

"i still don't understand how you two got off on the wrong foot," seokmin points out, hoping a proper explanation will emit from you.

you shrugged because you didn’t know what to tell your friend. the first time you properly met wonwoo was at your workplace. you even thought he was cute— quiet, had the nicest smile. your other coworkers were even raving about how polite and kind he was.

imagine your surprise when the ‘polite’ cutie from the editorial floor practically threw daggers at you as soon as you stepped into the office with the cerulean blue folders. this threw off wonwoo as he did the preparation for the meeting.

“in my defence, i saved both our asses when i replaced the folders during that important meeting with the new york office,” you grumbled.

unbeknownst to you, wonwoo kept a close track of your encounters. the first time wonwoo met you was through university.

you were the president of the school’s undergraduate publication journal and you were only in your second year. wonwoo was one of the new student recruits, he was a third year. he actually thought you were cute until you had assigned him to deal with international relations— wonwoo had applied for the editorial layout section. wonwoo was not happy.

you probably don’t remember him, wonwoo knew it. how could you? you were running around, trying to figure out the logistics, gather and have people review these submissions, edit and have it all printed before the next term starts. meanwhile, wonwoo was stuck somewhere, trying to solve things on his end. you only left notes on his work, you two barely met during meetings. you two had no direct contact.

once you were in your third year, you had to step down as president and become a casual editor instead. wonwoo became the publication journal’s president that year. you two still had no direct contact.

you unintentionally beat him for that librarian assistant position that wonwoo was gunning for as it'll boost his resume.

somehow, for wonwoo, you were always one step ahead of him and he doesn't like that one bit.

so the day you pranced into the office with your signature bright smile, wonwoo felt territorial over a place where he felt like he finally was one step ahead of you.

wonwoo didn't even like that seungcheol served you the last chocolate cake the day he stopped by at heaven's cloud cafe.

"how could you, cheol?" wonwoo huffed, his arms crossed, as cheol placed the iced americano and a slice of strawberry cake on wonwoo's table.

"it's just a slice, dude," seungcheol looked at him weirdly. "and you don't even like chocolate.”

“yeah, but i wanted a chocolate cake today.”

“jeon wonwoo, quit being weird and eat your cake,” jun comments as he appears behind seungcheol, dropping his things on the floor and sitting on the opposite of wonwoo.

while jun waits for his order to arrive, he worked on the monthly report that his boss has been pressuring him to do. as jun went on rambling about how much he hates his job, wonwoo is occupied with the idea of you. how you were always a step ahead of him.

from then, jeon wonwoo declared a one-sided competition against you.

your idea of jeon wonwoo was simple— he was the cute guy from the editorial team who hates your guts. why? surely, you don’t know.

one rainy afternoon, seokmin made sure to tell you that he won’t be able to give you a ride home, so he gave you the spare umbrella that he had.

“please be kind, ynnie, and let someone stand under your umbrella if they don’t have theirs,” seok reminded you.

“you know damn well i’m always kind,” you huffed with a pout— in which seok just gave you a pointed look before he handed you an umbrella and your lunch.

it seemed that your words had come to haunt you because here you were, walking under the rain using seok’s tiny umbrella, passing by wonwoo who was waiting in front of the office building— probably waiting for the rain to stop as he had no umbrella.

“he’d be waiting all night,” you thought to yourself. you had a long internal battle whether you’d just ignore him but seok’s words were ringing in your ear.

taking a deep breath, you asked “do you want to share an umbrella?”

wonwoo’s startled eyes looked at you and your umbrella. “i’m calling a cab,” he answered. wonwoo wasn’t exactly lying, he’s been trying to get one but the rain has made it extremely difficult to find one.

“well, you’d be calling all night. cabs are extremely hard to find especially at times like these,” you answered. wonwoo hated that you were right. again, always one step ahead of him. “subways are still running, do you want to walk together?”

wonwoo stared at you for what felt like an eternity before you rolled your eyes and pulled him under your umbrella. “we’re walking, stop overthinking it.”

you two were walking quietly in the rain. you’ve been coworkers for almost a year now and you can’t remember the time you and wonwoo had a proper conversation— one that you two didn’t end up bickering about senseless things. you didn’t even know why you two were always butting heads when you two were always working closely together.

as you tried to squeeze the two of you under seok’s tiny umbrella, you noticed that his shoulder was practically soaking wet. of all the umbrellas that he’d give you, he had to choose the tiniest one he owned. this prompted you to hover the umbrella more on his side, allowing the rain to soak your exposed shoulder instead.

wonwoo noticed how you moved the umbrella towards him, making him raise an eyebrow. you were wonwoo’s greatest puzzle— he can’t guess your next move and what’s worse is that you’re always one step ahead of him. “what are you doing?” he asked with furrowed brows.

you looked up at him, suddenly aware of how tall he is. no wonder your arms were getting tired from holding that damn umbrella up. “what do you mean?” you asked, confused by his question.

wonwoo grabbed the umbrella from you— your hands touching for a brief moment. you ignored whatever was forming in the pit of your stomach. maybe you’re just hungry? wonwoo hovered the umbrella closer to you, fully aware of the fact that his shoulder was getting wet from the rain. “you’re getting soaked,” wonwoo replied curtly.

“so are you,” you pointed out as you held the umbrella and tried to move it closer to him. however, wonwoo resisted it.

“i’m fine,” he says.

“whatever you say,” you huffed “it’s not like you intended to have annoyingly broad shoulders anyway,” you grumbled more to yourself, hoping he didn’t hear it. however, wonwoo heard your frustration over his shoulders and he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face.

it was the first time he could openly admit to himself that you made him smile. it was also the first time you caught him smiling.

“oh, how adorable,” mingyu grinned upon hearing the umbrella-sharing story from wonwoo. “and you said you weren’t one for office romances,” he teased earning a glare from wonwoo.

"because i'm not," wonwoo rolled his eyes "and i don't like her," he said almost defensively.

mingyu snorted "yeah, as if i haven't heard that line before." he said while setting up the living room for a movie night between him, wonu, jun, and chan. jun and ichan were running a little late as they were buying drinks.

"well, it's true," wonwoo crossed his arms "there's something about her that makes me feel like..." wonwoo trailed off, finding the right words to say.

"like?" mingyu sat on the couch, turning towards wonwoo— clearly invested.

"like... fuck, i don't know..."

mingyu lets out a dramatic gasp. "dude," he stares at wonwoo in complete awe. "you swore..."

"and?"

"you never swear unless you're completely frustrated," mingyu pointed out, a teasing look glimmering in his eyes. "you like yn, huh?!"

before wonwoo could even answer, mingyu's doorbell rang. saved by the bell, wonwoo thought.

"oh, this is not over, jeon wonwoo." mingyu said with a smirk, making wonwoo groan.

"seok, quit looking at me like that," you whined as you hugged the pillow tighter, placing your chin on top of the pillow.

"what?" seok grinned "it's nice to know that your beef with your coworker is slowly coming to an end."

"he was probably thinking how ridiculous i sounded for mentioning his shoulders," you grumbled. "why did i even mention his shoulders?!" you groaned.

seokmin couldn't help but laugh at how adorable you were being. "oh my sweet, ynnie," he cooed, ruffling your hair.

"here you go, yn," vernon said as he handed you a pint of ice cream. you were hosting a sleepover with seok, vern, and kwan. you three were waiting for seungkwan to arrive with the rest of the snacks.

you initially thought that you'd have the ice cream later but vernon thought that you might need it sooner than later. "thanks, nonie," you smiled at him.

"for what it's worth ynnie, he finally smiled at what you said." vernon said before taking a bite of his ice cream.

"and now yn is acting up because she thought he was cute," seokmin said teasingly, making vernon laugh.

wonwoo believes that the universe is out to get him. he kept complaining that you were always one step ahead of him and now, the universe is starting to retaliate.

"take yn," his manager tells him, making wonwoo clutch tighter on his notebook.

"sir?" wonwoo must be hearing things. there's no way that his manager actually asked him to take yn, right?

"take yn ln," his manager stresses your name. "didn't you two work on the last summit?"

"yes, but sir—"

"then it's final," his manager dismisses wonwoo "you two did a wonderful job with the last summit, i'd like you two to work on this year's professional development sessions."

"you two make a wonderful team," was the final thing that his manager said. without another word, wonwoo left the office feeling defeated. how can wonwoo be one step ahead of you if the universe is making him walk alongside you?

it was no surprise that wonwoo was everyone's office crush in the editorial department. people would often turn their heads whenever he walked by. this time was no exception.

the people on your floor knew the budding tension between you two. so when wonwoo was walking towards your desk with two coffees and a bag of dessert in hand, heads definitely turned and people were bound to talk.

"here," wonwoo hands you an iced americano and a bag of what you assumed was a slice of chocolate cake, catching you off-guard. your desk computer was showing the available job listings in the other departments. "are you thinking of transferring?" he asked as he leaned closer to your monitor— closer to you. his cologne was easily filling your nostrils. you hate that he smells good. how are you supposed to despise a man who smells good?! you thought. wow, the bar is literally on the floor.

"i'm keeping my options open," you answered as you crossed your arms, snapping yourself to reality. "it's not like you're making my life any easier here," you muttered the latter sentence, though you did hope that he heard it.

it's been a month since you and wonwoo started working on the company's professional development sessions. it's also been a month of torture. you've gotten frequent migraines that you started looking up if taking tylenol frequently will kill you. you didn't like the results.

wonwoo heard the latter sentence. while the month has been torture for you, wonwoo didn't mind your company at all. sure you were butting heads most of the time, but he noticed how much you were willing to compromise just to settle a conclusion between you two. wonwoo liked pushing your buttons. he found you cute even if you wanted to bite his head off.

"is this a peace offering?" you motioned to the coffee and the cake that was sitting on your desk.

"for what?" wonwoo smirked, playing coy. "you agreed to the after-session event, fair and square."

"bitch?!" you stared at him as if he's gone mad "if anything, you made it your life's mission to annoy me into agreeing that going to an escape room is what we need after overloading our brains from the sessions."

"yn ln, you know i can go to HR because you cursed at me, right?"

"jeon wonwoo, you know we're banned from that floor unless there's a serious allegation," you said, massaging your temples. "now humour me, what's with the coffee and cake?"

"oh, i stopped by at heaven's cloud café earlier and jeonghan practically insisted that you have these," wonwoo said casually, looking away.

you stared at him suspiciously, "thanks, i guess." you haven't spoken to jeonghan in a while since you've always been swamped with work. but maybe that's why you got free coffee and desserts?

before you could even ask wonwoo another question, he quickly left without even looking back at you. deciding to ignore it, you snapped a quick picture of the coffee and the cake, shooting jeonghan a quick text, "thanks for the coffee & cake, hannie! miss u! ♡"

"jeon wonwoo, is there a reason why yn sent me a text earlier, thanking me for the coffee and cake that i didn't give her?" jeonghan asked wonwoo, who was busy typing away on his laptop. wonwoo stopped at jeonghan's place after work as their other friends will be dropping by later as well.

"i don't know what you're talking about," wonwoo mumbled, not looking at han in the eye.

jeonghan was having none of it. "i'm texting yn that you gave those things to her," he threatened, pulling out his phone.

knowing jeonghan is probably going to commit to it, wonwoo sighed and threw his hands in defeat. "fine."

“and so the plot thickens,” jeonghan smirked, crossing his arms. “so is there a reason why?"

"she was having a rough day," wonwoo explained, closing his laptop. that report will be dealt with tomorrow. "i felt bad."

jeonghan raised an eyebrow at him. "i thought you didn't like her?"

"i don't."

"funny, because that's an odd way of expressing how you dislike her," jeonghan said, making wonwoo roll his eyes.

“i can at least recognize all the work she’s been doing in planning the pd session,” wonwoo replied, defensive.

jeonghan smirked because he knew. he knew that wonwoo was walking on a thin line. in fact, jeonghan was 100% sure that his friend has gone soft for you. “okay, whatever you say.”

“ynnie!” seungcheol calls your name as he spots you, busy choosing what kind of juice you are going to buy. you decided to stop by at the grocery to grab a couple of things for the fridge.

you gave him a small wave, smiling. seungcheol, however, was eager to give you a hug. you, cheol, and han shared a couple of classes back when you three were in university. you were always supportive of their endeavours that’s why cheol & han always had a soft spot for you— they considered you like a little sister that they always had to take care of.

“how was the cake from earlier? you know i’ve been taking a lot of baking lessons recently,” cheol said with a proud smile.

“oh, it was great, cheol!” you said sincerely “i sent jeonghan a text earlier, saying thanks.”

“thanks for what?”

“for the cake…?” you trailed off, a bit off-guard by the confusion plastered on seungcheol’s face.

“why would you thank jeonghan?” seungcheol asked, even more confused.

“jeonghan wasn’t there?”

cheol shook his head no. “unless jeonghan told wonwoo, but i assumed wonwoo bought it for you. i was teasing him about it too, since he doesn’t like chocolate that much.”

“ah,” was all you could say as you felt your cheeks burning, surprised by cheol’s sudden information. is that why jeonghan hasn't replied to your text at all?

cheol suddenly felt like he just triggered a bomb. oh, he fucked up. as if on cue, his phone started ringing. mingyu was calling. "okay, i'm heading off, ynnie."

you just nodded and waved goodbye, feeling confused. it was a good thing that you won't be seeing wonwoo during the weekend otherwise you would've gone mad.

heaven's cloud café was buzzing with people when you came in.

you spent a lot of time debating if you had to improvise how you would spend your sunday morning. you would usually stop by the heaven's cloud café and spend a good chunk of your time there— reading or chatting with jeonghan and seungcheol.

however, knowing that wonwoo might stop by at the cafe, it left you questioning if you wanted to derail your usual sunday routine.

and yet, your pride got the best of you. no matter how much you didn't want to see wonwoo, you weren't going to derail your sunday routine especially if it involved coffee.

although the café was usually busy on the weekends, today was unusually busy— you wondered if there was a special promotion taking place. jeonghan hasn't even acknowledged your presence yet as han is busy manning the till while also preparing the drinks. cheol is probably in the kitchen, preparing food.

you settled on the last empty table at the very back— dropping off your things, deciding to order a bit later once the line from the till calms down.

while you were busy scrolling on your phone, someone placed a tall glass of iced americano and a slice of strawberry cake on your table.

"you should try this, it's a house favourite," someone with a deep voice said. you looked up and saw jeon wonwoo with slightly messy hair, wearing your favourite black specs and a white button-up, smiling at you. fuck, he looks good. is hell officially frozen?

"are you perhaps a twin of jeon wonwoo?" you asked, completely boggled.

"yn, what the hell?" wonwoo laughs at your incredulous take, making you even more confused. why is this wonwoo variant laughing and smiling at you? most of all, why are they bringing you food when you haven't even ordered?! "what made you say that?"

you reached out your hand and poked his cheek, making him laugh. "are you really wonwoo from sector17 press?"

"yn, seriously, what makes you think that it's not me?"

"why are you so smiley all of a sudden," you cried, weirded out. "and why are you serving me food?"

"my, do you like it when i give you a hard time?" wonwoo said, teasingly "is that a kink of yours?"

"you're fucking weird, jeon wonwoo," you smacked his arm. "i've never met the weekend version of wonwoo and i don't think i like it," you cried quietly to yourself.

"cute," wonwoo says quietly, still smiling at you. "i'll talk to you later, okay? i'm helping cheol and han for the day and i feel like they'll beat my ass if they see me slacking off." wonwoo gently ruffled your hair and walked away, leaving you flabbergasted.

you felt that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. oh god, what the fuck just happened?

the friday night that jeonghan found out that wonwoo used jeonghan’s good name to protect his image, was the same night that seungcheol bumped into you at the grocery store.

drinks were getting passed rather at a rapid speed. for them, this night was a gem among other nights. most of jeonghan’s friends were at his place, enjoying the night away.

“ya, wonwoo,” cheol suddenly calls wonwoo, who was barely drinking— as per cheol’s opinion. “i thought tonight was the night that you were going to get loose.”

wonwoo chuckled, “i’m pacing myself.”

jeonghan snorted. “cheol, you’re talking to the guy who still cannot admit his high school crush on our ynnie.”

this earned a couple of laughs from the group, mainly from mingyu and jun.

“yoon jeonghan, just because you’re in a happy relationship—” wonwoo threw a balled up napkin at him, obviously not knowing how to reply.

“oh, wons, that reminds me…” cheol started rubbing the back of his head “i told yn that it was you who gave her the food and not jeonghan.”

as soon as the words left cheol’s mouth, it’s as if wonwoo felt annoyingly sober. he downed the tall shot of bacardi that was supposed to be mingyu’s shot.

“i don’t get why you’re tiptoeing around your feelings for her,” mingyu pointed out, filling the shot glass again. “it’s not like there’s a company policy against dating your coworkers.”

“isn’t there?” joshua asked. wonwoo shook his head no. “lucky bastard.” shua muttered, taking mingyu’s shot.

“you guys, what’s the point of doing rounds when you’re taking the shots as you please?” mingyu whines.

“i thought you didn’t like yn?” jun asked wonwoo, taking a bite of the kimchi jeon. “or is that like a weird defence mechanism against your feelings?”

"oh please," mingyu rolled his eyes "wonwoo had a huge crush on yn ever since our uni days," he pointed out, prompting wonwoo to hit him.

"weren't you two in like a school publication together?" jeonghan asked, taking the shot from mingyu.

"oh, right! you had like a one-sided beef with yn," jun's eyes lit up briefly, then proceeded to smirk at wonwoo, "ya! is that how you show your affection?"

"obviously not," cheol grins "our wonwoo is the type to show his affection through actions, not words."

"what are the chances that they'd end up working under the same company though," joshua commented with a fond smile.

"and in the same department too," jeonghan added.

wonwoo groans, before taking a shot, "i hate all of you."

"you two have a deep history, have you two never talked?" joshua asked, now invested.

wonwoo shakes his head, "we only talk about work."

"if they talk about work," mingyu laughs, "all they do is argue."

"how do you know all of this, gyu?" cheol asked in disbelief, laughing, "you work at a different company."

"i work with seokmin," mingyu replied "and seok likes to tell stories about yn."

"ya, didn't we invite him tonight?" cheol suddenly remembers, looking at his phone to check his message thread with seok.

"he's probably with yn," wonwoo muttered before taking another shot. this gets attention from the rest of the group— a series of teasing smirks and playful looks being exchanged.

like a kid on christmas morning, a bright smile appears on mingyu's face. "won, are you perhaps jealous?" he teased, with the new-found information.

wonwoo scoffed but didn't answer the question. wonwoo swore he wasn't the jealous type. but for some reason, he can't get over the fact that his friend was closer to you.

wonwoo knew that there was nothing going on with you and seok.

however, seok was your person, wonwoo would always think. you felt happier around seok. if wonwoo didn't know any better, he would assume that you liked seok. maybe she does, wonwoo can't help but think.

"you know they're just friends, right?" mingyu reminded wonwoo.

wonwoo doesn't say anything. he was just waiting for his friends to butt into the conversation. wonwoo's eyes caught jeonghan's. jeonghan smiles, that mischievous smile of his, leaving wonwoo confused.

"won, do you wanna know who she likes?" jeonghan instigates, leaning forward.

wonwoo waits, does he really wanna know?

jeonghan smiles, then says "you."

wonwoo didn't believe in signs— for him, every little decision a person makes is pulled by the desired outcome. however, you were his only exception.

"if ynnie stops by at the café on sunday, will you finally talk to her like civilized beings?" jeonghan's words rang loudly in wonwoo's ear.

"i don't believe in signs," wonwoo states simply.

"and you can't make an exception for yn?" jeonghan knew how to play the game. he's just waiting for wonwoo to swallow his pride and address his suppressed feelings.

"maybe." wonwoo answers, making jeonghan smile mischievously. and so, it begins, jeonghan thinks.

it was ridiculous— waiting for something to happen when he could've just started a conversation with you. but it's so hard when it's you. god, it's so hard for wonwoo when it's you because you make him feel things that he thought were only exaggerated by films.

wonwoo didn't know if jeonghan's revelation about you was a lie, but he'd be lying if he said that it didn't affect him— because it did. it felt like he was back in high school and he's not sure if that's something he liked.

jeonghan and seungcheol were very much aware of your routine. every now and then, you would visit the café every sunday— even during the morning rush. they were most definitely aware of what's waiting for you and wonwoo.

the two owners had tasked wonwoo to help with serving the orders as more people flooded the café. "make yourself useful while you wait for your girlfriend!" was all jeonghan said as he handed wonwoo an apron.

and so when you entered the café, wonwoo gathered all his strength to talk to you casually, even if it sent him through an overdrive.

while you were walking towards the washroom, you bumped into jeonghan who was grinning at you. you knew that man long enough to know that he's hiding something when he's smiling like that.

"ya," you pulled jeonghan to the side. "what are you hiding?"

"what do you mean?" han answers, blinking at you innocently.

"why is wonwoo being nice and smiley," you asked him with a huff, crossing your arms. wonwoo being smiley was something you didn't know would affect you this bad. "he's being too cute for my liking," you muttered the latter part.

jeonghan laughs at your dilemma. "isn't that what you wanted?"

"what do you mean—" you were confused with jeonghan's comment until it dawned on you. you remembered the time you went out for drinks with jeonghan and seungkwan. "yoon jeonghan!" you slapped his arm, making him yelp but he was still laughing.

"what?" he looks at you, acting confused as he rubs his arm. "i'm being supportive here!"

"you promised me you wouldn't tell him," you pouted.

"oh please, he was jealous of seok, i had to throw him something."

"so you told wonwoo about the time i got drunk with you and professed my undying feelings for him instead?!"

"no," jeonghan replies. his eyes moved past yours, looking past your shoulders, and smiled. "but i think you already did." jeonghan says, patting your shoulder before he left.

wonwoo was sitting across from you with a smile on his face. you've never seen this man smile at you this much, it was starting to freak you out.

"don't look at me like that," you grumbled, glaring at wonwoo.

"i can't help it," he looks at you almost tenderly. "you look adorable even when you're sulking like that."

you felt the familiar sensation in your stomach. how can jeon wonwoo just say things like these to you? does he not care about your well-being?! how you'd feel?

"that was a long time ago, by the way," you said in defence— as if the damage hadn't been done. wonwoo waits for you to continue your sentence. "you know, me having a crush on you," you continued, your tone getting quieter after each word.

"i'm sorry, what was that?" wonwoo leans closer, as if he didn't hear what you just said. you knew he was just teasing you as you noticed that he was trying to fight off a smirk.

"i don't like you, jeon wonwoo," you whispered, prompting wonwoo to only focus on your lips.

"that's too bad because," wonwoo paused briefly and leaned even more, "i like you."

his face was dangerously close to yours— wonwoo didn't care if half of his body was practically hovering over the table. he wanted to lean closer to you.

you felt frozen in your place. a part of you wanted to lean back and smack him, but there's also a part of you that just wanted to grab his stupid face and kiss it.

"ya!" jeonghan suddenly appeared beside your table "if you two are going to make out in my café, can you move to cheol's office? i'm planning to keep this place family-friendly," jeonghan snickered.

maybe you should just kiss wonwoo and smack jeonghan instead.

hello hello friends! i wrote this while i was sick in bed & was high on buckley's flu meds, so this is v cheesy. i hope you are all well & healthy! ♡

869 notes · View notes

gretavangroupie · 2 months

Text

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…”

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