🤍original gvf fics🤍

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He’s been plucking away at the guitar for a half hour or so, soft acoustic melodies, as you curl up beside him and read. But after you look at him a moment too long, you have to reach out and soothe your hand over him.

The tangles in his hair catch on your fingers, and he giggles as you fight to unstick them.

“Hi,” he says, voice low and soft. He peeks over at you, eyes light in the sunshine.

“Hey there,” you murmur back, “That a new song?”

He shrugs, “Not yet.”

You nod and continue to play with his hair. His eyes close, but he keeps playing.

Your stare wanders down to his fingers, which move quickly and precisely along the frets. He plucks with his right hand so effortlessly. Quickly, with the warm sun on your skin from the large open windows, and from the way you can smell his cologne, things shift.

Careful to avoid bumping the guitar, you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles gently at you.

“Wanna kiss,” you say, and he nods, tilting his head up toward you.

His lips slot warm with yours, familiar and soft, and he hums as your mouth opens gently against his.

“Angel…” it’s a soft breath as his fingers stutter for the first time on a chord.

You just kiss him more, licking at his tongue, until a shaky breath escapes him and the guitar goes mute.

“Hang on,” he says quietly. You part long enough for him to slip the guitar off his lap and set it gently on the floor.

With a genuine force, he grabs at your hips and pulls you into his denim clad lap, giving you full access to press your body against his. He sucks on your bottom lip when you kiss him again, his hands travel up your curves to your waist.

“What’s this about, mm?” He separates from the kiss and nuzzles against your cheek.

“You looked too pretty,” you murmur.

“Oh?” he laughs lightly, “Sorry about that, dear. Couldn’t focus on your book?”

You hum out an agreement and his lips find your jaw.

“Never get any work done with you around,” he says affectionately, “How am I supposed to practice, Angel?” He licks at your neck and your hands tighten in his hair.

“You don’t need practice,” you sigh, letting your head fall to the side so he can continue his journey down it.

“No?” You can hear his grin, “Do I already play perfect for you?”

“Mmhm,” you play his game, answer his question.

“Hmm,” he nips gently at your skin, “What else do my hands do perfectly?”

“Jake…” you sigh and grind down into his lap, quickly falling victim to his teasing.

“Tell me, Angel,” his hands skirt under your shirt, rubbing over the expanse of your back, “Do I touch you just how you like?”

Your breath stutters as you nod, grinding down again. He groans softly at the feeling.

“Yes,” you gasp, “Please.”

“Please touch you?” He licks at your collar bone, and you’re reduced to whining.

“Yes,”

He chuckles against your skin before he relents, “Okay. Up,” he taps your thigh, “Take these off.”

When you slip off of his lap and tug your sweats off, he tilts his hips up and unbuttons his jeans, sliding them and his underwear down to his ankles. You stare, surprised by his movements.

“What?” he smirks, “Thought you were gonna get naked without me?”

He’s already mostly hard against his thigh, covered just slightly by the hem of his shirt. You scramble back onto his lap, straddling him. He looks up at you, his eyes still glowing in this light, his skin tan.

“Gonna take your shirt off for me?” He grins. You nod and tug it over your head, leaving yourself bare.

He quickly shifts to ease you back some, holding your weight in his arms behind you, and bending down to suck one of your breasts. It draws a soft whine from you and he hums, taking his time with slow movements of his tongue.

When he comes up, his lips are bright pink, and you meet them in a fervent kiss.

You can feel his hands wander as you kiss him; they travel over your hips, squeeze at your thighs, brush over your stomach, up to your waist. He cups your breasts softly once more before one of his hands dips down, two of his fingers finally circling your clit.

It steals your breath, like he knows it will, and he presses his forehead to you as you come up for air.

“That what you wanted?” His voice is sly. You just nod dumbfoundedly as he touches you. It’s brief, before he slips the fingers further down and immediately curls them into you.

“Oh,” you let your head drop and bite at his clothed shoulder, which makes him groan in return.

He pumps his fingers in and out for a minute or so as you squirm in his lap, before finally, with a ragged breath, he pulls them out and slides his fist around himself.

“Lift up, angel. Need you,” he says quietly into your hair, easing your thigh upward with his free hand.

You watch his face as he lines up with you, letting you sink yourself down around him. His eyelashes flutter and he bites down on his already swollen bottom lip.

You groan in tandem as you seat against his lap fully.

“You feel like heaven,” he sighs, trailing his hands over your sides repeatedly, “Go slow for me, okay?”

Nodding, you find the strength to lift yourself slightly, beginning to fuck yourself on him. You go slow like he asks, and the way he moves inside you sends your eyes rolling back.

“Feel good?” he murmurs.

You whimper out a yes and brace yourself on his shoulders as you ride him slowly.

“You’re so warm,” his voice trembles.

You just nod absentmindedly, focused too much on the way he’s dragging and stretching inside you for his words to hold any weight. He buries his head into the crook of your neck as you move, his hands holding tight at your waist.

It’s quiet and almost serene as you move slowly with him, his body adjusting with yours, the scent of him all around you, the warm sun on your skin.

He leans back against the couch, then, holding your waist as you bounce harder, chasing an end.

“You’re so hot,” he says, breathless, “Cum with me, angel, come on,” his lips hang open and he watches you, almost in a trance, his eyes moving from where your bodies meet, to your breasts, to your face, and back again.

“Almost—I—”

He holds you tighter, helping you move.

“Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock nice and pretty.”

That does it, and you’re collapsing against him, tightening around him as you muffle your scream into his shirt fabric. He’s stringing off a line of curses, holding you close and pushing up into as hard as he can, throbbing with his release.

The comedown is quiet, with chests heaving and gentle kisses placed here and there.

“Better?” he murmurs into your cheek, sealed with a kiss.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “Let’s try not to ruin this couch when we get up.”

He chuckles back, lifting you off of him, following behind you to the bathroom where you’ll drain all the hot water with a long afternoon shower.