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spidervee · 1 year

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I've been thinking about honeymoon sex with Jake. How he refers to you as Mrs. Seresin every chance he gets and praises you for being such a good wife when you come on his cock

abby why must you do this to me? why must you make me thirst ever so much more for this stupid man? i love you 🌻 Jake x wife!reader; 18+ only; suggestive language and the lead up to filthy smut; not edited I am tired

You’d seen the muscles in Jake’s jaw tick when the hotel concierge had finished checking you into your suite with a warm smile and a please enjoy your stay and let us know if there’s anyway we can be of assistance, Mr. and Mrs. Seresin.

It’s almost amusing, the way Jake’s darkening green eyes watch as the elevator buttons light up one by one, his foot impatiently tapping as you both wait to be delivered to the suite on the tenth floor of the Hawaiian resort Jake had spared no cost in securing for your honeymoon.

“Tired?” Your question is innocent, your hand coming to rest gently on Jake’s bicep where it emerges from his fitted t-shirt. He quirks and eyebrow at you in response and you offer the sweetest smile you can muster. “You just seem eager to get to the room,” you continue, withdrawing your touch as the elevator doors begin to slide open on your floor. “I know you can never sleep on planes, so…”

Your teasing is cut off by Jake firmly planting a palm on your ass, a teasing smack as he steers you out of the elevator, your luggage already waiting by the door of your room.

“You think you’re mighty cute, huh Mrs. Seresin?”

Ah, so that’s what’s got him so hot and bothered. The idea of Jake being turned on by the fact that you’re his wife now makes your thighs tremble in anticipation. Nothing’s changed, not really. You still love each other the same as before you both signed that slip of paper and then fucked in the bathroom of the bridal suite while Jake tried not to tear your wedding dress. Still, you know Jake and you know his family and, despite how different he is from most of them, you know that as an eldest son from a pretty conservative Texan family, there’s something about the word wife that makes Jake feral.

“You tell me, baby,” you reply coyly, “You married me. You must think I’m adorable.”

Jake growls, fumbling to throw open the door while keeping a hand on you, his grip already rough through the denim on your shorts. “Super fuckin’ adorable,” he concedes, his accent coming out in a stronger than usual lilt, “Especially when you’re falling apart on my cock.”

You suck in a little gasp as you help Jake kick the luggage into the entryway of the suite and another, louder gasp that morphs into a giggle as he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder, the door slamming shut behind the two of you.

“Tell me what you want,” Jake whispers as he releases you onto the bed, looking down at you with wide and pleading eyes. You swallow thickly, suddenly lost in his gaze.

“I want,” you manage to rasp out, “I want my husband to fuck me until I forget everything but my name.”

Jake leans over you, places a jarringly chaste kiss on your lips. “And what’s your name, baby?”

“Mrs. Seresin.”

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