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gyllenhaalstories · 1 year

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FADE — JAKE GYLLENHAAL 🔶

summary: the infamous lush vibrator makes a comeback.

warnings: curse words, smut (public sex, quickie, penetration, fingering, use of vibrator, edging, overstimulation). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2015

photo credits: me @gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: jake is giving us southpaw era crumbs and i demand more. check out THIS FIC for more controlled vibrator action! 📱 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

“That’s it baby, take it.” Jake’s lips grazed over your ear before he bit on the lobe.

The edge of the counter printed a line against the skin of your thighs, your pants — and Jake’s — were discarded in a pool of fabric on the floor. There was so much noise outside, there was a constant buzzing in your ear that competed with Jake’s grunts.

He had one arm on your back, anchoring you on his cock, fingertips pressing harshly on the fabric of your shirt. His free hand was exploring your body, groping the flesh of your ass or your thigh when your leg threatened to slide off the small counter. Then, you felt him palm at your tits over your clothes or wrap his hand around your neck he so badly wanted to cover with bites and marks.

“Needed you so bad,” He spoke against your lips after you exchanged a harsh kiss of tongues and teeth. “Couldn’t make it home without feeling you on my cock — fuck, yeah, do that again.”

You caught a glimpse of his eyes rolling back, heads thrown backwards too, when you clenched your walls around his cock. The first time was accidental, you were only running after your release, but the next couple of clenches you did were certainly intentional.

His thrusts lost their rhythm, but none of their vigour. He fucked your pussy like nothing else mattered at that very moment, nothing else but the feeling of your slick, warm walls wrapped around his cock.

The banging on the door from people warning you the event was about to start, the cramps of the leg you precariously put your weight on to stay standing up, the painful stretch around his length — nothing else mattered. “I’m so close!”

"Gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum for me?”

You nodded your head, you closed your eyes to get over the dizzying pleasure he was fucking inside you.

Jake changed the angle, fucking the sensitive tip of his cock in your hole to give space for his fingers to work your clit. His thumb pressed on your skin while his index and middle finger rubbed your clit hard, eased by your wetness that covered your folds.

Your jaw dropped open and moans echoed within the walls of the bathroom. You slipped dangerously closed over the edge — both figuratively and literally. You wrapped your arms around Jake’s shoulders, his Prada jacket messed up from the all the tugging you did on it. The counter did not suffice to support you anymore, the same way the fear of being heard by people on the other side of the door did not stop the fire building within your core.

He pressed his fingers more against your bundle of nerves while he crashed his lips against yours in a kiss that left the two of you breathless. Jake grunted against your mouth, final thrusts of his hips resulted in him pumping his cum inside of you. He bottomed out, making sure nothing would leak too quickly.

His hips stilled inside of you, you could feel his load. “Don’t stop,” he rubbed your clit in circles now, you pressed your forehead against his while you held his face in your hands as you began to cum. You moaned out his name while the pleasure washed over you, more grunts emanated from him as your walls milked the last drops out of him.

You calmed down from your high, falling down from the counter while still using Jake as a pillar. You felt him slide out of you, some deep breathing and soft kisses relaxed your walls. “We gotta go now.” You chuckled, although there was a bit more of concern in your voice than of humour.

“I know, I know.” Jake answered, he, too, needed a bit of time to come back to his senses. When he did, after he pulled both of your pants up and helped you fix your appearance as if he did not look like he was blown by a sudden, small tornado, you found him scavenging through your purse.

You stared at him quizzically, and the confusion grew twice the size when you saw him pull out a velvet pouch. The memories of your tumultuous trip to the bath bomb store flooded your mind. Instinctively, you closed your thighs even tighter and frowned in disapproval.

He pulled to loosen the strings, fingers still glistening from your slick disappeared in the bag and emerged with the egg shaped vibrator. “How did that get in there?”

You did not have time to shake your head, inform him he was losing his mind, that his foot kicked yours open and his hand disappeared underneath the hem of your pants. “I can’t believe you right now.”

“I didn’t want my cum to leak out of you, that’s all.” Jake winked, both somehow playful and serious at the same time. He rubbed the toy against your wet folds to ease its entrance in your stretched hole. He guided it until he was confident of your secure grip around it. You protested, it was not just a plug. It was the plug. “In case the fight gets boring.” His justification was weak. A quick peck on the lips, a last attempt at fixing your hair and smudging your makeup in a more intentional way, and the two of you were on your way out of the bathroom.

You stared at your feet, walking small and fast steps to follow Jake’s rushed strut to the crowd of UFC fans. There were coughing and sighs of disappointment behind your back from the people responsible to take you to your seats in time. The feeling of fullness inside your pussy distracted you from experiencing too much shame regarding what you two had done.

Jake reached your row of seats, mumbling apologies to the people you distracted.

“Jake.” You tried to whisper, it was nothing but subtle. “Your jacket.”

He turned around to look at you, eyebrows raised on his forehead. Finally, a light bulb popped above his head and that was when he realized that one of his shoulders was out of the expensive piece of clothing, his shirt was pulled in ways to show off his defined abs, and he looked comical. He giggled stupidly and helped you sit down first while you rolled your eyes.

You really could not believe him.

And that only intensified when you noticed he pulled his phone out of the zipped pocket of his orange jacket. Yeah, right, it was to help with your boredom. If anything, you were just one more attraction to tonight’s show at the Madison Square Garden.

With time, you began to spot cameras before they could even spot you. You made sure to sit straight, and more so at that moment than on another appearance, you tried to look presentable like you did not have your brains fucked out of your head by your handsome boyfriend. Smile, bat your eyes, smile differently, cross your legs and...

Jake sent a wave of vibrations from the application of his phone to the vibrator inside of your pussy.

Oh. The photographer was calling out Jake’s name, attempting to catch your attention by complimenting you in his next sentence.

Another vibration.

Another photo.

“Looking good, babe.” Jake spoke through his teeth while he grinned ever so slightly for the picture. He had a secure hand on your knee. He was holding you in place so that you would not squirm a possessive gesture to claim you in front of the world who would later see the photos and ignore what happened not too long ago.

The position of your legs created nothing but more torture for you — more vibrations added to the bunch. They were succinct, quick, but oh so powerful. You were cursing Jake in your mind one second, thanking him for making you feel so good on the next.

A cameraman approached the two of you, Jake’s hand remained on your leg, climbed higher on your thigh this time with his fingers peeking towards your middle. He guided your leg to uncross it and, when the camera rolled, his smiled and waved a peace sign in the air.

Jake Gyllenhaal, coming early tonight, the announcer said and his commentary resonated in the area, which was followed by cheering, applause and supportive screams from the crowd.

When the camera disappeared out of sight, Jake leaned closer to speak to your ear. “Sounds like they know I actually did.”

If you could shoot lasers from your eyes, Jake would be nothing but a light beam at that moment. He was not helping your case, not one bit — and even less when your glare earned you a jerky rhythm of vibrations.

Your legs were uncrossed but, somehow, it felt just as powerful. No, it felt even more powerful because when Jake gave you a pause, you understood it was an edge.

And there were many more to come. With his phone secretly tucked under his thigh, eyes glued to the ring, and hand rubbing up and down your leg, Jake made the next minutes fly by both like lightning and like the Earth had stopped its rotation.

The waves of pleasure were small, kind almost. You stayed on the edge of your seat — you could not trust the man by your side who visibly struggled to keep his smirk hidden under a poker face. You used the black ring on his pointer finger to focus, to notice if you were squirming too much, to steady your breathing, to understand his warnings if you were being too loud even though there was so much noise that you doubted anyone could hear your whimpers.

Jake would react to the fighters, saying that was a good one while referring to a solid uppercut or adding that a certain manoeuvre was too risky. Every comment echoed what happened inside of you. The solid punch was an unannounced peak of vibrations that stiffened you on your seat. The risky move was when he gave you another edge as cameras flew left and right to capture the crowd’s expressions.

The fight before your eyes was blurry, sounds indistinct. There was another edge, your eyes followed his ring all the way to the webs of veins on his hand. Then, you tried to focus on the colourful bracelets around your wrist. You moved your head to look at Jake’s identical accessories.

He nudged your arm. “My good girl.” You earned a soft kiss on the side of your head while he took you along another edge. One of too many edges.

But then... It faded. It faded away until the point of nothingness. There was nothing but the feeling of Jake’s hot hand sending warmth through your pants. You attempted to catch your breath, only then realizing just how exhausted you felt. You blinked away tears that pooled at the corner of your eyes. You relaxed into your seat. You smiled, blissful and unaware that this moment of peace was captured on camera again.

Jake, however, knew. He made a mental note to get that specific photo of the two of you — an innocent memory of a not-so innocent evening.

“Enough.” Jake turned your head, and you locked eyes with him to insist on your honesty. It was enough, not quite too much, but you knew the threat of being so stimulated you would lose control over yourself was right around the corner. He smiled and you turned your attention to the action on the stage.

“But babe,” he waited until you looked at him and listened carefully. “We still got at least three rounds to go.”

You hated to admit it, but he was right. This stupid vibrator would certainly help your boredom, and help you double check the contents of your purse in case Jake sneaked it in unbeknownst to you again. Who knew what other tricks he had up his sleeves?

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