#Jonathan levy smut

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Filthy

summary: that’s the thing about illicit affairs, clandestine meetings and longing stares.

pairing: jonathan levy x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, car sex, professor kink, glasses kink?, dirty talk, kissing, creampie, longing, love confessions

wc: 1.7k

an: the professor kink went a little crazy in this one so if that’s not your jam, skipperoni! if it is…enjoy <3

oscar characters masterlist | writing masterlist

This shouldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t be in his car, in his lap— in his vicinity at all because it always leads to something like this. Messy and sloppy and hurried, so desperate. The two of you gave up on resisting this a long time ago, but that doesn’t keep your brain from questioning it.

He’s not even divorced yet, can’t even convince himself to sign the papers given everything that Mira had done. You’re his breath of fresh air, the only thing besides his daughter that makes him feel alive these days. But you’re also his closest colleague’s graduate assistant. The reasons that getting caught would end poorly for both of you are not small, hidden, or easy to brush away.

Those reasons don’t change the delicious way his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs under the skirt you have on. The dip of his tongue into your mouth, licking and searching feverishly. They don’t lessen the arousal sitting in your lower belly. You’re not sure if anything could because when you’re at the center of Jonathan’s attention, it feels like nothing matters beyond the two of you.

You groan into the next kiss, and Jonathan shivers beneath you, some desperate sound of his own echoing into your mouth. Accompanying the intoxicating taste of you is rain on your lips. You’re soaked to the bone, your clothes skintight and a few shades darker from the rain that continues to pour outside of the confines of his car. Every kiss, every touch of his warms you from the inside out.

“We’re committing public indecency,” He murmurs, but he doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop using his grip on your ass to grind you down against the swell of his clothed cock.

He isn’t wrong but this is the best you could do in a pinch.

Your roommate is another graduate assistant, and though she doesn’t work in your department or Jonathan’s, she’d surely recognize him if you were to bring him over. There’s some unspoken agreement about his place, the house where he lived with Mira. You don’t feel ready to go there yet and thankfully, he isn’t quite ready to let you in. So he picked you up from your apartment complex and drove to the nearest park. Usually, the two of you plan a little better— there’s a long drive a couple hours away, some cozy little Airbnb on the edge of the city with the promise of going unrecognized hanging in the air.

This thing that shouldn’t be happening is practiced, meticulously planned but today is something different. If you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of him against you, you’d ask what has him so riled up. A little voice in your head can guess, but that would just complicate things. Instead, you’d really like to focus on this, that warm feeling he brings, and you hope that his concerns about breaking the law aren’t too intense.

“Do you want to stop?” You ask, breaking the kiss but only to kiss at his neck.

“No, don’t stop, baby. Don’t stop.”

And there is nothing that compares to the sweet sound of Jonathan calling you baby. You've never said no to Jonathan and you don’t plan to start when he begs for you like this.

“Kiss me again.”

Jonathan obliges, grasping the nape of your neck with gentle strength and pulling you forward to kiss you as if he’s trying to consume you.

You use your knees to raise up, sliding your hand between the two of you so that you can palm at his erection through his jeans. He whines into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. Both of these things spur you on and your other hand drops from his curls, working with the other to undo his jeans so that you can slip your hand into his boxers.

“You’re so sweet, so soft,” He murmurs as he begins to kiss and bite his way down your neck. You can hear the strain in his voice, how he’s trying his best to keep it steady and show that you aren’t affecting him.

There’s not a world where you have even half the discipline that he does. You are nothing but desperate for him— needy, always prepared to beg and whine until he gives you what you want. But, there’s no harm in trying to make him show how desperate he is for you too.

“Professor, please. I need you.”

“How am I meant to say no to you when you call me that?” He teases the skin of your neck with his teeth and you writhe in his lap, just like he wanted you to.

“You’re never supposed to say no to me, that’s the point, Levy,” You tease, hand tightening around his cock. His hips jump into your touch and you know that if you work just a little harder he’ll be exactly where you want him.

Jonathan’s hand skates up your torso. With your wet shirt, your nipples are practically on display through the fabric and he runs his thumb over one playfully before rolling the peak between his fingers, “And where’s the fun in that? You don’t want to earn it today, sweet girl?”

“No—“ You gasp through short breaths, chest heaving into his touch, “I just want you to give it to me. Please.”

His other hand finds your other breast, his touch more insistent as he pinches your nipple, “Desperate, sweet girl. Tell me what you want, I need to hear it.”

You fix him with that look that you know will get you anything you ask for, “I want your cock, I want you to let me sit on it.”

“You’re so fucking filthy, so needy for me aren’t you?”

“Yes, Jonathan, please.”

And while he thoroughly enjoys the way you call him professor, or Levy, his name rolling off your tongue makes his heart skip like he’s some teenage girl having her first kiss. Any teasing and pretense of having discipline go right out the window. His hands are gentle but sure as he moves yours out of his boxers and lifts you to bare himself to you.

“Are you ready? Can I—“

“Yes, please, fucking yes.”

Jonathan uses one hand to line himself up with your entrance, the other immediately gripping your hip and sliding you down onto the length of his cock. The kiss you two share is hardly that, but messy teeth and tongues that meet as you both moan.

“Ride me,” He says against your mouth. He wants it to sound like a demand but you both know what it is. He’s finally just as desperate as you are— he’s begging.

There’s nothing in you that wants to fight him, there never is, all you want is more and more of him— whatever you can get because despite the passion, the ease of spending time with him, there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that screams this is temporary.

It’s unhealthy to think that each time you and Jonathan fuck it might be the last, but you refuse to take him or any moment spent with him for granted. You place one hand on his shoulder, the other reaching back to find purchase on the dash so that you can bounce on his cock in earnest.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good, it’s made for me,” He groans.

Your eyes are glued to his face, drinking in the sight of him. He rests his head back against the seat rest, mouth ajar. His glasses are propped up on the crown of his head so as not to fog up, and a light goes off in your head. Shifting most of your weight onto your thighs you swipe the glasses from his head, sliding them onto your face.

The sound he makes has you upset that you haven’t thought of this move sooner. His hips snap up into you harder, making you yelp as the tip of his cock presses against the spot deepest inside of you.

He’s breathless as he says, “Oh god, you filthy fucking girl.”

“Do they suit me, professor?” You pant with a smirk.

His eyes go dark, as he gazes at you from under his lashes, “All of this suits you, everything about us together suits you. My name in your mouth, my cock in your pussy, all of it.”

His words make your head spin, and you quickly remove the glasses so that you can kiss him properly, smashing your mouth to his. You roll your hips, taking him as deep as you can before you start to rock, bouncing in his lap once more.

The back and forth between you dissolves into a frantic madness, both of your bodies focused simply on giving and receiving pleasure. His hands find your hips, helping you bounce more quickly and firmly as both of your breaths go shallow and whiny. The pleasure in your lower belly builds, chugging higher and higher each time you come down against him. You’re surrounded by the smell of sex, the sound of it, the heat of it. The windows fog and with each thrust of his hips up against you there’s the sound of skin on skin, of how incredibly wet you are for him.

“Jonathan, I’m—“

“You’re so close aren’t you, baby? Gonna cum for me so I can fill you up nice and deep? So I can make you mine again?”

“M-make me yours,” You repeat his words but your version is a beg, full of desperation.

He shushes you, hand sliding between your slick bodies to find your clit, “Let me help, let me give you what you need.”

Despite the soft gentleness of his fingers against your clit, the shockwaves of pleasure they provide melt away the last of the barriers between you and your orgasm. You melt around him, so warm and tight as you cum with a soft cry. It’s impossible for him to resist, and he joins you, body going stiff as he fills you up.

“I love you,” He whispers unthinkingly in the postcoital haze.

“I love you too,” You whisper back easily, leaning forward to rest against his chest.

Neither of you allow that usual feeling of dread of returning to your lives as they are— of having to deny each other day in and day out— to settle in. Instead, you let the softness in, the love so young and new but no less meaningful. He holds you right, like he’ll never let you go. And for the moment, you let him.

if you’d like to be on my jonathan levy/oscar issac taglist lmk!

jonathan levy taglist: @honeybrowne, @angelfxllcm, @sweetascherrylies, @hotchs-bitch, @jakelcckley, @mrspector, @jitterbugs927, @myorestes, @winwin70 , @ninebluehearts, @whatthefishh, @fanofverymanythings, @marc-spectorr, @toracainz, @rmoonstoner, @roseqzpd, @mccn-bcys, @campingwiththecharmings

[clazaries]

Old Love, New Dream (NSFW)

(JonathanLevy! x f!reader)

Summary: Just when you think you've recovered from a debilitating breakup with Jonathan Levy, all those feelings come rushing back when he walks back into your life again as your best friend's boyfriend. w/c: a whopping 10.1k Warnings: angst, Mira is included in this, NSFW; smut, fingering, p in v, oral (fem rec.), eventual fluff a/n: HELLOOOO! I'm back. Sorry took a small hiatus to finish off college and I really struggled to finish the end of this so apologies if it's shit. I also watched a spanish film called a treves de mi ventana (specifically the third one) which I loved and took inspiration from while I was writing this. Anyway hope you enjoy!!!

Fuck Jonathan Levy.

Fuck him and everything he stands for. Fuck him in the past and fuck him in the future. Fuck him and the way he treated you with love in his heart, with stars in his eyes, and with you at the heart of everything he did. Fuck him for being the best boyfriend, partner and friend that anyone could’ve asked for. Fuck him for promising you that it would last forever, that you would always have him for as long as you live. 

Fuck him, especially on that unassuming Tuesday morning when you woke up to sadness on his face, pain behind his eyes and the truth on his lips. Fuck his ��I think we should take a break, we need to spend time on ourselves, by ourselves.’ Fuck him for making you think that life’s not fair; because how were you to know that after six years of a strong and stable relationship, especially one that guided you hand-in-hand into adulthood, would be ripped from you in a day. 

Fuck him for making you miss him so, so fucking badly to the point where you struggle to get through your day without thinking about him. The countless number of occasions where you’ve had friends and family members tell you so naively to ‘move on’, or to ‘get over him’, or that ‘you don’t miss him, you miss what you had with him.’ 

And in all honesty, they’re exactly right. You can’t bear to reflect upon what could’ve been, so your only alternative is to miss what you had, and therein lies that problem of why he still subconsciously worms his way back into your mind. Because he’s tied to it, intertwined so deeply that he’s the knot you just can’t unravel. 

It’s not like you think about him purposely, in fact, if you had the will-power to compartmentalise everything associated with him into a box, you would lock it and throw away the key. But he left such an imprint on you that in the quietest moments of thought, his name, his face, his eyes and Jesus, even the memory of his scent appears when you least expect it. What’s worse is that they’re good memories, not the ones that broke your heart, not the ones that should be reminding you of how much of an arsehole he is, but the ones that you look back on with nostalgia. 

It took a long time to come to terms that he’ll never be a part of your life again, to shake hands with the devil and accept that he will always be the one that got away. That’s the part that will never leave you. He is the big gaping wound in your heart that will never heal. 

The best you could do was move away to another state, to start afresh with the hopes of finding someone new that could give you everything he did and more. But it’s proven to be a bigger challenge than you anticipated because your desire to find someone capable enough to fill the hole and let it scar has never been satiated. No one, not even in the three years since your break up with Jonathan Levy, has come close.

You had gone for such a long time thinking that this level of pain and heartbreak was exclusive to you only and that there was no one else in this world who could empathise with you. That was until you met your next door neighbour Mira who was shockingly similar to you in every way; broken from a relationship that ended years ago, desperately searching for something or someone to alleviate years of hopeless longing and the need for fulfilment. She was the therapy you always knew you needed and vice versa. There were many nights spent drinking wine, talking about ex-lovers with the same yearning, indulging in each others’ wishes of how they could relive what you both once had. Surprisingly, divulging each others’ woes became a temporary fix to your problem and soon missing him turned from a daily issue to a weekly issue. Now, he’s a quiet thought just once a month. 

But things started to change one night in Mira’s dining room when she announced something you hadn’t seen coming.

She’s got a new boyfriend.

~~~~

You sit there, quietly in shock, at her oak dining table directly across from her, listening as she talks of her newly-established relationship as if she had been blessed by all the godly-deities of every power and religion. 

“You have to meet him,” she says with a mouthful of spaghetti bolognese, “he’s just the sweetest guy.” 

A twinge of bitterness and jealousy has your stomach clenching. “Yeah? Where did you meet him?” 

“I’ve always kind’ve known of him, like, I met him last year when I was travelling for work, but recently we’re just really hit it off.” 

“Do you think it’ll turn into something more serious?” 

The lips of your friendly neighbour beam wider, a subtle coy sparkle evident in her eyes. “I would like to think so, I think we’re both in a really good place.”

“That’s great Mira, I’m happy for you.” 

“I was actually thinking about hosting a dinner with the neighbours, like what we used to do years ago, but I might bring him along this time.” 

“Wow, so really serious then. Must be something really special if you’re willing to dig up an old tradition just for him.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Well you know, I miss those dinners. They were always so much fun. They introduced a lot of new things to us including you, and I feel it would be a good way to introduce him to the street too since they’ll be seeing a lot of him ‘round here in the future.” 

The Maple Avenue dinners were once the highlight of your week, plucked from a suburban neighbourhood’s dream. It was a tradition you inadvertently started when you first moved into the street, a way of getting to know the neighbours around you. Mira, being your next door neighbour was one of the first to receive an invite and was also the one to convince others to join. Surprisingly, the occasion started a chain of events where other neighbours wanted to host their own dinners, play games, chat and share their life over wine. It happened so often that it became a weekly ritual that you all cherished, until organising a roast for ten to fifteen people became too overwhelming, especially for those who had started a family, or who had taken a promotion at work. Having no such responsibilities, you and Mira became the only two to keep the tradition alive.

“I’d like that. Want me to get in touch with the neighbours?” 

“I’ll handle it.”

Two weeks pass and the Friday you have been silently dreading finally arrives. You had been prepared for it up until about an hour ago when you couldn’t remember who drinks white wine and who drinks red, who has an intolerance to dairy and who has an allergy to nuts. 

Spotting Mira’s open window across the way, you decide to lean out your bedroom window, hoping to catch her attention. “Mira!” Within seconds she’s mirroring you, her hair still pinned in curls and her body wrapped in her satin robe. 

“What?” 

“I was going to bring my roasted hazelnut cookies but I can’t remember who has a dairy intolerance and who has a nut allergy.” 

“Don’t you remember? Alan doesn’t have dairy, it could get hairy, and Steph doesn’t have nuts, no buts. You don’t need to worry though, they can’t make it tonight.” 

“See, this is why you’re the better neighbour. Red or white?”

“Go for red. Jonathan drinks red.” 

For a moment, your heart stutters a little in your chest, a small sense of unease tightening your muscles, but you need to remember, it’s just a name. A popular boy’s name. “Jonathan?” 

“Jonathan as in boyfriend Jonathan. As in the-reason-why-we’re-doing-this Jonathan.”

“Oh right,” you nervously laugh, “you’ve always referred to him as ‘the boyfriend’ it made me forget that he actually has a name.” 

“Yeah, well he’ll soon have a face too. Although he said he might be a little late tonight and doesn’t mind missing the starter. He'll be here for the main.” 

“Okay, can’t wait!”

Having food preparations sorted, you take the remaining few hours to present yourself; washing, bathing, moisturising, curling your hair, applying that little extra bit of makeup, and finally choosing an outfit. Despite it only being Mira and a handful of the neighbours who have seen you in worse states, you still feel the need to look presentable in front of a new face, perhaps the result of your mother’s behaviour rubbing off on you when she faced similar situations. ‘Always presentable, always welcoming. First impressions matter.’ 

Her words stay true to this day. It’s what banked you a job, friends amongst the neighbourhood, and impossibly so, Jonathan Levy’s attraction many, many years ago. 

Since the weather had transitioned well into the Spring’s warmth, you settle for a sundress knowing that Mira fully intends to use her beautiful backyard to see off the sunset after dinner. It fits you perfectly, complimented by the sparkling golden necklace that sits squarely between your clavicles; the very same Jonathan had gifted you on your 21st birthday, which to anyone should be reason enough to get rid of it, but just like how you can’t completely get rid of the thought of Jonathan, you can’t get rid of the necklace. At least, not yet. 

You arrive a little earlier than Mira had instructed but with good intentions. You help her set the table, stick the necessary food in the oven and ease her nerves. You’re glad to see her dressed similarly, having put in that little extra glamour on top of her usual appearance to appease her guests and, of course, her boyfriend which you both casually joke about.

Soon, one by one, the neighbours start arriving and quickly settle into their own seats as the first course gets plated out. Only one seat across from you remains empty. 

You’re surprised by how quickly it starts to feel like nothing’s changed at all; being here together conversing over a roast, clinking glasses and laughing over memories and you remind yourself to give thanks to Mira’s new boyfriend for reigniting a fire that burned out long ago. However it seems like you might need to wait your turn with how engrossed the rest of the neighbours are in Mira’s new boyfriend, everyone wants to meet him. His name fails to fall out of conversation with now being the only chance to ask about him before he arrives.

“So how did he ask you out?” Lisa, from number 32, asks, sitting next to her husband Tom. 

“He took me on a date to Rosano’s, very generously paid for my meal, and then we went for a walk along the pier where he surprised me with a bouquet of pink peonies that he had the ice cream vendor keep before the date. He had it all planned out.” 

Everyone around you awes with adoration, their lips pouting and their hands over their chest, almost identical to the way people reacted when you told a similar story to your friends when they asked you how your Jonathan asked you out. Only after you swallow the soft lump of potato do you force yourself to respond in the same way, too caught up in your own memories to give an immediate reaction. 

Pink peonies. Your favourite flower. 

It takes everything in you to ignore the blaring alarm in your head, screaming and fussing over the coincidences. You boil it down to emotions running high and how everything lately has been reminding you of your ex, subconsciously relating everything back to the time you spent with him. Fuck, you didn’t even need to try that hard to link the lentil soup you’re eating back to him. The first meal you had together when you both moved into your new apartment…

The starter course and the conversation concluded when Mira’s boyfriend chapped on the front door. With an understanding nod, you take the plates from Mira’s hands, offering to take them to the kitchen while she answers the door. While there, you can hear through the walls, listening to the cacophony of people greeting one another, sharing names and pleasantries while you stand over the kitchen sink. While the tap runs, you look up to your reflection in the kitchen window, twisting your strands of hair to re-curl that one piece that had fallen flat. First impressions. Better make it a good one. 

You enter the dining room once again with a beaming smile on your face ready to welcome him in, and standing there, by Mira’s side, is the last person you want to see. 

Jonathan. Fucking. Levy. 

It is by chance, or perhaps by fate's cruel hand, that you find yourselves face to face once again in the most unexpected of places. There’s barely enough time to react when your eyes meet from across the room, picked out from a sea of people being none the wiser to the unfortunate predicament you both face. In that moment, amongst the din of the dining room, time almost comes to a stand still and you’re left waiting in the doorway with bated breath, overrun by a wash of emotions as Jonathan’s eyes are confronted with the same feeling. 

Between you and him, Jonathan seems to keep up the pretence better than you do as his smile barely dips, but enough to know that he recognises you, enough to know that he too is filled with the same amount of dread and confusion as you are. And as Mira walks him over to introduce you, he doesn’t let the facade fall. 

She introduces your name to him and without a seconds’ hesitation, he offers his hand. “Hi, I’m Jonathan, nice to meet you.” 

There’s a moment’s delay before you take it, his warmth no stranger to your skin, and with a little wobble to your voice you relay his words back to him. “It’s…it’s nice to meet you too, Jonathan.” 

His eyes stay on you as Mira thankfully takes control of the conversation. Poor, oblivious Mira who is unaware of the fact that your Jonathan has just become her Jonathan…because surnames were never mentioned. “Is the food ready to come out?” 

“Uh, yeah. I can…I can help out if you need.” 

“Perfect! Jonathan, honey, you go sit and get yourself a drink, ‘kay? Dinner won’t be long.” 

You watch agonisingly as Mira peppers his cheek with a kiss and follows you into the kitchen where you finally get a chance to navigate the minefield of unresolved emotions without a roomful of witnesses. 

Mira instantly tends to the roast slowly cooking away in the oven leaving you to stand in the corner, almost not knowing what to do yourself. An explosion has just gone off inside you yet Mira and a roomful of people are expecting you to carry on as normal, as if years and years’ worth of recovery hasn’t just been stripped from you within a single second. Thousands of layers of hurt have been peeled back and left you bare and vulnerable to your biggest fear, and yet Jonathan’s pretence to not know you has forced you to deal with it as if it’s nothing. 

What the fuck are you supposed to do?

“So what do you think?” Mira pulls you from your musing and peers up to you, a proud smile on her face. Her. Mira. It’s all for Mira’s sake, the innocent party in all of this. The realisation hits you like a freight train. If she knew anything about Jonathan being the ex you talked for hours about, it would destroy her. “He’s nice, right?” 

“Lovely,” you gleam back, kickstarting your limbs to dish out the cooked vegetables. “He seems very nice.”

“I knew you’d like him.” 

If only, Mira, if only. 

Not enough time passes before everyone is sat at the dinner table once more, tucking into the delicious food warmly prepared by Mira. You wouldn’t even know, you’ve barely touched it. You can’t find it in you to enjoy the food nor engage in the jovial conversation happening around you because Jonathan Fucking Levy, your ex of six years, is sitting right across from you behaving so casually it makes your stomach churn. 

The little ball of stuffing rolls across your plate, dancing from side to side over and over again. You take the small amount of comfort you can find in the hypnotic motion, stuck in a trance of watching this stuffing ball roll back and forward while Jonathan Fucking Levy drones on about his endeavours. You try to pay him no attention of course, but when everyone else around you is sucked into his conversation narrated by his smooth-like-honey voice that used to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, it’s harder said than done. 

You dip in and out of his story telling every now and then because you can’t stop your curiosity from wondering just how different the last three years have been for him. Apparently he took ‘personal growth’ seriously and you come to realise that it wasn’t just a shoddy excuse to break up. He’s become a reputable academic, striving in the industry and made quite a name for himself which he explains so beautifully, so fluent with expression and elegant with his choice of his words that hooks everyone in which, given his career choice, makes all the more sense. Then, when you throw in his confident manner and the slightly animated way he presents himself when he speaks passionately about something (which, back in the day, used to be you), it accumulates to something you can’t help but admire. You see it in the eyes of your neighbours around you, afraid to blink for fears of missing something spectacular. 

It really makes you wonder how he can act so calm and collected. It’s been three years. Surely there has to be one little atom inside him that's swayed by your being here. There has to be. 

Oh, there definitely is. 

You don’t know it because you refuse to look at him, but every part of Jonathan is burning with anxiety. If you could just spare him one glance you would see that his fingers twitch around the thin stem of the wine glass, that his whole body shakes with his bobbing knee, and that his teeth incessantly chew away at his bottom lip. At least he has the red wine to thank, staining his cheeks with enough colour to conceal how pale he would be otherwise. 

Because he’s terrified. Terrified of not only seeing you, but missing you. Desperately, hopelessly, and unquestionably missing you. He feared he would never see you again to tell you. Yet here you are, sitting an arm’s length away from him, unknowingly tormenting him with the scent of your perfume that consumes every particle of air around him, effortlessly resurrecting memories of how he used to wish that scent would wake him up every morning like it used to. If only he could reach out to feel the buzz of your skin on his, just like it did when you shook his hand, the electricity that flowed through him when your eyes found his. He’s already experiencing withdrawal and he craves for your attention but you won’t look at him anymore. He needs you to look at him again, he needs you to know that he’s been plagued with regret since the moment you split. How can he get you to look at him? 

“So what do you do?” 

His question cuts through the running conversation like a sharp knife, demanding the attention of everyone at the table as they silence and wait for your answer. It takes you a second to realise he’s talking to you and had it been without everyone staring at you, you would’ve ignored him. But you don’t want to come across as rude to the other guests, and you settle for answering coldly. 

“Just corporate work, just a simple nine-to-five-Monday-to-Friday kind of job. It’s nothing special.” 

Mira interjects and you happily give her your attention if it means taking it away from Jonathan. Only, she’s leaning against his shoulder, softly patting his thigh affectionately. “Oh she’s being modest, she’s a finance manager, runs the full finance department with an iron fist, don’t you?”  

“I manage a small team of bookkeepers and accountants, it’s barely a department.”

“Interesting, how did you get into that?” You pan back to Jonathan who’s munching away, glaring at him through the furrow of your eyebrows, almost vehement at his audacity because he already knows how you got in financing. It was him. 

“A friend.” 

“What do you mean?” This bastard. 

“A friend convinced me to do it. I didn’t have the confidence at the time and he motivated me.”

“That was nice of him.” Sarcasm drips with every word. 

You bite back. “Yeah, he was nice. Until he wasn’t. Anyway, that’s a different story for a different time. More wine, anyone?” There’s a few mumbles of agreement, giving you enough of an excuse to rise from the table and make your way to Mira’s pantry in search of a stronger, more bitter tasting wine because God knows you’re going to need it to get through the rest of this dinner. 

Dessert comes and goes at an agonising pace. With the help of wine and the particularly boozy dessert, you become less inhibited, detangling yourself from the thick tension that’s lassoed tight around you and Jonathan. 

Instead, you find solace in Harry, who lives at number 30, sitting next to you, telling you about the struggles of being a single dad to two troublesome toddlers. It’s quite a depressing conversation and not the pick-me-up you were looking for, but anything is better than having to quietly observe the flirting that’s happening across the table. You deceive Harry into thinking that he’s got your full attention but really you’re hyper aware of Mira and Jonathan in your peripheral vision, sharing small, intimate touches, glancing at each other with stars in their eyes, embraced by the bliss of new-found love. 

That used to be you. You haven’t had anything like that since. 

“So…uh…” You have all intentions of continuing the conversation with Harry but you weren’t listening well enough to remember where he left off. “Who’s looking after the kids tonight?” 

“I hired a babysitter. Which reminds me,” he checks the time on his phone. “I said I’d be back by 8 and it’s 7:57. I better go.” To your dismay, your distraction rises from the table, grabs his jacket from the chair, thanks Mira for the meal and bids everyone a good night. Damn. There goes your distraction. 

Everyone around you is locked deep in conversation under the lowlights of Mira’s dining room. All except you. With a heavy sigh, you reach for your wine glass to once again relish the dry, bitter taste of the alcohol as it trickles down your throat. You slouch further and further back against your chair, wallowing in your isolation that no one seems to take notice of. 

But Jonathan does, and to your surprise, you feel something tentatively brush against your leg. At first you thought you had gotten too close to the table leg, but when it starts creeping up the length of your leg underneath your dress, your only option is to consider the man sitting directly across from you. Your eyes burn into the side of his head, ignorant to you while he talks enthusiastically about something you’re not privy to. Not that you want to be, especially when the tip of his shoe caresses the back of your calf, pulling it out from underneath you and hooking your ankle closer to him. He remains unfazed as your foot gently rests atop his underneath the table, tracing small circles over your achilles heel. 

Your heart beats widely inside you, violently disorientating you as much as the twisting in your stomach does. The gesture is so provocative you’re almost sweating in your seat. It’s scandalous, outrageous, and downright inappropriate, but you’ll be damned to hell if you don’t admit to yourself that it feels mildly arousing. 

Only when Mira leaves for the bathroom does he catch a glimpse of you over the tip of his wine glass and old sparks fly as you read the words in his eyes that his mouth can’t say. I miss you. I want you. I need you. 

Shaken, you draw back your leg and pull your eyes from his, feeling completely lost and indecisive about what to do. The hidden touches, the secrecy, it’s all too intimate for you to be opening an old wound that still hasn’t fully healed. You’re not ready for three years of hardship to manifest. 

Yet again Mira comes to the rescue when she returns from the bathroom and ushers all the remaining guests out into the backyard where you sit yourself as far away from Jonathan as possible, but it’s not without the touch of Jonathan’s hand to the small of your back as you all walk out through the glass panel doors, unnoticed by everyone else. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that he saw the momentary shiver that wracked your shoulders the moment his fingers splayed across the bottom of your spine, virtually feeling the heat of your body through the cotton sundress as if it was your own skin. You make a mental note to yourself to never get close to Jonathan for the remainder of the night. 

Once you get outside, you look up to your bedroom window, visible from all areas of Mira’s garden, wishing that you return to the comforts of your own bed, lost in your book and free from this emotional torment. It takes just a glimpse of your window to see everything inside it, something you hadn’t realised was possible until Mira had to awkwardly knock on your door the second week of you moving here and gently warn you to draw your blinds when you were changing. And just as the thought arises…

“Do you remember,” Mira hiccups, perhaps on her sixth glass of wine of the night, “when I had to tell you to close your blinds two weeks after you moved here? I actually thought you were maybe trying to seduce me!” She laughs wholeheartedly, nearly spilling her wine onto Jonathan’s lap. 

A blush blooms on your cheeks. “I didn’t realise you could see in! If I had known I would’ve! Jesus, Mira, way to make me out as a flasher in front of the neighbours.” 

“Listen, if it makes you feel any better, some guys would’ve paid thousands to have seen what I saw every  morning.” 

With a nervous glance of your eyes, you see Jonathan’s glare hard on you. 

“Do I need to contact the HOA and tell them we’ve got a pervert in our neighbourhood?” 

The neighbours laugh but Mira rushes to her defence, unknowingly giving Jonathan that all important detail that he might take advantage of later. “My window is right there! How could I not see you?” 

“Conversation over.” 

Against your wishes, Mira dives into many conversations of a similar nature provoked by Jonathan who annoyingly asks all sorts of questions that involve how you and Mira became friends, forcing her, in her now drunken state, to divulge all the memories you share together, including the many nights you spent talking about ex-lovers. The minute she starts spilling everything, nausea starts to pool inside you and the colour trickles away from your cheeks. Knowing none the wiser, she talks on and on and on about how you bonded over the troubles and hardships of being single, detailing everything about how you would reminisce over ex-lovers and compare them to every shitty cheesy romance film you watched together. And with just a few stories, she single-handedly exposes all of your inner thoughts and feelings towards Jonathan. Right in front of him all for him to hear. 

You silently plead with your eyes, solid in their gaze in the hopes that Mira would catch on and shut up, but she’s seven, no, eight glasses of wine deep that she can’t hold anybody’s gaze let alone yours. 

Jonathan merely sits and listens, amused by everything that is pouring out from Mira’s loud mouth. 

“I mean, it’s hard. And you’ll agree with me on this, that trying to get back into the dating scene as a single woman isn’t an easy experience! You go on dates with guys that bore you to sleep, clicking with absolutely none of them and it just leads to you going home and dreaming about meeting the one guy that sweeps you off your feet. Of course, you’ll know what I mean because you’ve already met him--”

“Mira--” 

She turns to Jonathan to give him context. Knowledge that he already knows himself. “She had this one guy that she dated years ago, the one-that-got-away kind of guy. We used to laugh about him--”

Jonathan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh really? How so?”

Fuck. 

“Mira--”

“Just the usual girly stuff, what we would wear at our weddings, thinking about baby names, and talk about owning the perfect house in the suburbs, that kind of stuff.” 

Jonathan turns to you with an emotion you can only only describe as being distressed, possibly on the verge of being disturbed and you don’t blame him. You’re sure that he could see the very same feeling in you through the gaps of your fingers as they hide your face in embarrassment. 

This is possibly your worst nightmare come to life. The entire night had dwindled into absolute ruins and there’s nothing more that you want than to bury yourself into the ground, away from Mira, away from this mortifying feeling, away from Jonathan. You know it’s not her fault, but everything in you is wanting you to blame Mira, to be judge, jury and executioner and lay out all that she is guilty of in front of her. However in reality, you’re projecting. You were the one to tell her about Jonathan. You were the one to feed her all this information believing that not a word of it would ever reach Jonathan’s ears, and when you consider all that has led up to this exact moment, you are just as at fault as she is. 

And you need to make a run from it while you can. 

“I’m…uh, I think I’m going to go home,” you announce, not realising how shaky your voice is until you speak up. Mira’s expression falls with disappointment, coming immediately to a stand and trying her hardest to convince you to stay. But you know nothing could. 

“Do you want us to walk you home?” 

“Mira, I live next door, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 

She persistently follows you back into the house. “I’ll walk you to the door then.”

“I know where the front door is--” 

“I just want to make sure you get home okay--” 

“Mira, honey, you go sit, I’ll walk her out.” Jonathan’s voice appears from behind you both, reassuring enough that Mira follows his word and returns to the back garden with a mousey ‘okay’. Once gone, Jonathan, stoic as ever, catches you in his stride, escorting you to the door with a hand to the back of your shoulder. 

This time, when you speak, you can’t stop the sniffle as your emotions run high. “If I don’t want Mira walking me out, I sure as shit don’t want you walking me out.” 

He merely looks down to you and sighs, not listening to a single word you say. Within a matter of seconds, you exit through Mira’s front door, ready and willing to slam it in Jonathan’s face but he’s just a pace too quick and is already following you through the front garden. Your body goes into high alert, having no idea what he’s about to do now that for the first time in three years, you have a moment alone together. 

“Jonathan,” you warn. “Go back inside.” 

“Just let me walk you home.” 

“Why?” 

“Why? Because I want an explanation as to what the fuck just happened in there.” 

“You’re not getting one. You don’t deserve one. Go back inside, Jonathan, your girlfriend is waiting on you.” 

“Like hell. Will you just talk to me for one second?!” He reaches out and grabs your arm, swinging you around to face him where your bodies stand inches apart. It’s not in anger nor frustration but in desperation, as if this is the only chance he’ll ever get again to speak to you alone and he’s not willing to let it slip by him so easily. “Is…is what Mira said true? Did you really talk about all those things?” 

You look down to your fingers wringing them out while you wait for the courage to build. “That wasn’t her information to share. But what does it matter anyway, it’s…stupid.”

“It matters to me.” He tilts your chin with the gentlest of touches, his hand lingering close to your neck as he picks up the necklace sitting delicately around your neck, one that he’s all too familiar with. “I miss you.” 

“Don’t…don’t say that to me.” You begin to feel the tethers keeping the remains of your composure snapping, your mouth sinking deeper into a frown the way it always does when you’re about to cry. “You don’t get to say that to me.” 

“Nonetheless, it’s true. And I think you missed me too.” 

You roll your eyes and he immediately scorns you. “No, no, don’t do that. Don’t invalidate it just because I said it. I’m not trying to be smug or patronising, I want to know the truth. Did you miss me?” 

The wobble in your lip becomes uncontrollable. You don’t have the option to lie because he can read every minute feature on your face like it’s laid out for him in words, he would know if you didn’t tell the truth. With a deep breath, you push out the admission. “Every. Fucking. Day.” 

He nods understandably, retracting his hand from your necklace and sinks it deep into his pockets. He looks up to your window before quietly murmuring words suggestive in tone, “then keep your window open tonight.” 

And it takes your breath away.

~~~~

It’s late. A little past 1am. It’s been all too silent since the last of Mira’s guests left about an hour ago leaving only her and Jonathan next door. 

His last words to you before you separated still echo loudly in your ears but you just can’t figure what he meant. It’s the only thing that’s kept you up this late, and even as you sit on your bed just a few metres from your open window that lets in a cool, calming breeze, you still can’t fathom what he’s intending to do because her window across from you is closed, her curtains drawn and her lights out. 

Is this a joke? Is this Jonathan’s cruel twisted idea of a joke to make you watch as he and Mira settle for the night? Teasing you with something you can’t have? The foundation of that idea had developed a little less than half an hour ago and the more time ticks on, the more bricks are added to it. 

Having enough, you turn your back to your window, taking your duvet and slinging it over your head and around your shoulders, blocking out the world behind you. There’s no point trying to sleep, the embarrassment and the emotional trauma of tonight are still too raw for you to find any peace, so you reach for the half-finished book on your nightstand. 

Fuck Jonathan Levy. Fuck him and everything he stands for. Fuck him in the past and--

Wait, what was that? 

Just then, not even two lines into your book you hear the small creak of a door opening and closing coming from outside. Your eyes dart to your digital clock reading 1:10am. It could be Mark coming in from his backshift. It could be Erin, Alan’s teenage daughter sneaking in from a night out. It could be Rebecca, taking her dog out on a late night walk. All options are plausible and wouldn’t be completely out of the ordinary. But there’s one option that you’re afraid to consider.

What if it’s Jonathan? 

You don’t look to check because you wouldn’t know what you would do if it was him, and so in the meantime, you continue to anxiously sit and listen out for any other clues. 

In time, they come. The rustling of the ivy that weaves in and out of your lattice fencing on the side of your house. The breaths of a man as he scales up the wooden structure to your window. The heaviness of his boots as they thud against your floorboards. The raspiness of his voice as he mutters your name. He’s here. In your room, and yet you still can’t bring yourself to turn around to face him. Your breaths are tremorous as he makes his way closer to you, almost shaking with anticipation of what’s about to happen. 

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t make any rash decisions. For a moment, he pauses by the side of your bed eyeing you up with your duvet slung over your head and decidedly reaches for it, taking a fistful of the sheets and dragging it slowly away from you until you’re exposed to him, still dressed in the sundress you couldn’t bring yourself to take off. The tension locks you in a chokehold, unable to move, unable to speak, waiting for the moment where Jonathan’s hand reaches out to touch you once more but you know it’ll be different this time. No more gentle touches hidden in plain sight, no more casual excuses to lay his hands on you, everything that will happen here on in will be the result of three years of separation and withdrawal. 

The bed dips under his weight and only then do you turn your head to look over your left shoulder. He’s closer than you expected and you see the tufts of his curls hanging over his forehead come into sight, low and looming. His nose comes into contact with your shoulder and even the slightest touch sets you alight. He scales up the curve of your neck to hide deep within the locks of your hair behind your ear and inhales.

“That fucking perfume,” he whispers softly into your hair. “It’s just as perfect as I remember.” 

“Jonathan, we…” you heaved a breath, fighting temptation. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“You have no idea, do you?” He murmurs directly into your ear, his arm coming around to circle your waist and hug you closer to him. “No idea just how much I missed you, how much I regret what I did, and every day I spent not being with you was a reminder of the mistake I made to the point where I thought I would never get to hold you again.” 

He renders you speechless when he scrapes away the strands of your hair and mouths at the curve of your neck, humming into your skin. It’s almost the same as before, soft pillowy lips showering you with unreserved passion, except this time they’re followed by the slight scrape of his beard grown in the years you hadn’t seen him. It makes his kisses more exhilarating, stimulating. While your body screams for more, your morals just can’t shake the guilt of betraying your own friend. 

“But Mira--” 

“Mira knows.” 

You detach yourself from his lips to face him, still half-lidded and unfazed by his admission. You’re almost nauseous with the way your heart drops in your chest. “What do you mean she knows?” 

Despite your surprise, Jonathan simply tilts his head as he assesses your face in the sheen of the streetlight like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again and doesn’t stop his fingers from intertwining with the short baby hairs at the nape of your neck. 

“She had an inkling that there was something going on between us. There was a reason why she brought me up in the conversation earlier in the garden because she knew from the moment she saw the look on your face when you saw me. So I came clean. We decided to be completely honest with each other and we talked for a while.” 

“And?” 

“Well, she knew your thoughts on me…and it was more than I had ever thought to hear.”

Your cheeks flush angrily, wincing at the thought of Mira revealing every confession told with such a lack of restraint. Back then, telling Mira these things felt like securing all of your secrets into a vault, trusting that they would be safe, trusting that they were secure enough that no one besides you would have access to them. In hindsight, you should’ve perceived her as more of a time capsule, planted, hidden for the time being, and when after enough time passes, they are bound to be found by someone else. 

“I know that you hated me for a while - and I did too. I always wondered whether you resented me as much as I did, for a while I thought it wasn’t possible. And while I knew the resentment was one sided, there was a part of me that wished that missing each other wasn’t. I guess I found my answers tonight.” 

“Was Mira mad?” 

“No, darling,” he grazes his chin over the curve of your shoulder, lips inching closer and closer to your own. “She considered you to be too much of a friend to get in the way and cause you any pain, not after all that you had told her. She knew you would’ve done the same for her.” 

“I…I don’t know what to think. It’s all just a mess.” 

You turn your head towards the book in your hands, fingers fiddling with the page, while you try to figure out where your loyalties lie. With your head? With your heart? It’s a wonder how the same body can feel two entirely opposing feelings and yet still wonder which one is the right one. 

“Maybe…” Jonathan whispers, his hand reaching for the book and sliding it from your grasp, “maybe, you don’t need to think at all. Let me do the thinking for you. Let me show you just how much I’ve missed you, because fuck, as much as I love this dress you have on, I’m much more interested in what’s underneath it.” While one hand pulls you tighter against his chest, his other hand comes to slide down your thigh until curls around your knee, bunching the fabric tight in his fist and pulling it higher and higher. You watch with eager eyes, succumbing to Jonathan’s temptation and letting go of all of your inhibitions. Your eyes grow heavy, wanting to relish the feeling of his fingertips tracing the length of your inner thigh as they gently pull your legs apart, but it’s much more satisfying to watch. Jonathan doesn’t need to watch, not when he can taste the supple skin of your neck. 

It’s almost agonising how slow his pace is, how he stalls every couple of seconds to trace circles on your skin and devilishly chuckles when you whimper. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed though, talking about our life’s plan without me.” 

Just as his fingers feel the outer rim of your underwear, you tilt your head back to lean against his shoulder with a sinful sigh. Opening your legs just that little bit wider tells Joanthan everything he needs to know. It’s been years. Years since he’s had you like this, so he has every reason not to take it slowly and fuck you like a man starved of your touch, but there’s something in him, perhaps the little devil on his shoulder, that persuades him to take it slowly, to exploit the part of you that has missed him and prove to you that the years spent apart, however painful, was worth the wait. 

“Tell me,” he urges, “tell me what you had imagined.” 

Call you ignorant but you’re not quite in the talking mood. However, you feel he won’t do a single thing to you unless you do as he asks. “That…that we’d get married in the small church near the vineyard where we grew up. I imagined a quiet house in the suburbs, just us two, at least for a while.” 

“Hm, what kind of house?” 

“One that wasn’t too big that we’d feel far apart, and not too small that we would get in each other’s way. One with a garage and a garden where our dog could run around.” 

“Good,” he praises into your ear. A single digit slips beneath your underwear which instantly gets a feel of your warm, wettening cunt, and you grow impatient.  “What else?” 

“After a while, we…shit…we’d have our own kids. A boy and a girl. I’d hope they’d have your eyes.” 

After doing a few rounds of your entrance, the tip of his finger rests upon your clit, barely moving. Your hips start moving fluidly, all of their own volition but he eases his touch. Instead he gives a gentle tap tap tap, urging you to continue before you can get any more.

The hand that keeps you stable around your middle eventually slithers up to wrap around your neck squeezing with a dizzying pressure. 

“Keep going…” 

“We’d take an early retirement so that we could grow old together. Taking vacations to places we’d never been to before, being the same couple we were when we were younger.” 

“Oh yeah? I love the sound of that. Just as much as I love the sound of those moans you make. Keep singing little siren.” The moan that leaves your lips the minute he nibbles on your lobe is unrecognisable. You haven’t been seduced like this in years and every atom of you is buzzing with anxiety and in your physical form, you can’t sit still. It takes the weight and pressure of Jonathan’s thighs resting either side of your hips to keep you anchored. 

His fingers make quick work of building you up, conjuring that deep, guttural feeling of pleasure and desire to stir within you. Even after years, he still knows you so well, still knows what makes you tick and what makes you scream. There isn’t an inch of your neck that Jonathan’s lips haven’t touched; sucking, licking, biting until you’re coloured with bruises. 

“Seems like you have it all planned out, darling. But why don’t I tell you how I imagined tonight would go?” 

“Please.” 

Just as his words flow from his mouth, two fingers slide easily into you and curl into that spot makes your body restless and your lungs heaving. “Just as I did, I’d find you here, confess that there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you, tell you how I yearned to have the sweet taste of you on my tongue again and the tight squeeze of that cunt around my cock. I’d seduce you every way I knew I could and I’d want you to want it. I’d want you to tell me that you want it and once I knew I had you again, I’d get on my knees, lift up that dress of yours and taste you. Get you nice and wet, ready to take me.”

“Fuck, Jonathan--” 

“After years, I thought my patience would get the better of me if I ever had this chance again, but seeing you here like this,” his fingers pick up the pace, drilling into you and filling the room with sacrilegious sounds. “I think I might want to take my time, let each minute that passes reflect what I have been thinking about every day we were apart.” 

“Please,” you whisper, growing evermore impatient. It all sounds too good. The more he speaks his feelings into words the more you want it. To have the feeling of him touch you everywhere, to feel him inside you, snug and shaped by him and bringing you to the precipice of losing your mind the way only he could. “I need you, Jonathan, need you now.” 

His lips come to your cheek, shaped by a smile of satisfaction. “You will, darling. Soon. I just want to savour this right now.” 

His fingers slip from your cunt, trailing all that he’s gathered up the length of your slit to come crashing down onto your clit. While he circles and swirls his fingers, you twist your head to lock eyes with him and even in the cover of darkness, you can still make out the fire that’s burning within him leaving no doubt that he truly wants to ravish you just as he has described. But it isn’t a roaring fire, it’s a slow burning candle, flickering away to slowly dissolve all of what’s left of his patience. 

Like instinct, your lips clash together hungrily not sparing a second before your tongues and welding together and tasting the remnants of the red wine you both had earlier. Inexplicably, it tastes sweeter on his palate. 

The fingers that curl around your neck tense as if they’re fighting to keep you stable, surging to keep your restlessness at bay and all of this is making you wonder ‘why not just get on with it?’.

You decide to hasten the pace, raising your hips closer to his fingers with the tips of your toes, feeling his cock grind against the small of your back where it should be grinding against your cunt. Though that may be how you truly feel, you make do with his fingers toying with you with his palm flat against your pubic bone to keep you close, once again making you twitch with anticipation and hum with desire. You’re close, so close that with just another lap of his fingers would make you explode. 

Holy shit. You’re going to cum. You’re to cum on Jonathan Fucking Levy’s fingers.

“Don’t you think we should maybe close your blinds?” He taunts, suddenly halting all of his movements. “Surely you wouldn’t want the neighbours to see how easily you fall apart for me.”

Jesus. Where did this side of Jonathan come from? 

“Um…y-yeah. Close them.” God, it’s starting to take effect on you. When was the last time a man made you stumble over your own words like that? 

With a gentle kiss to your cheek, he rises from the bed to leave you attempting to find relief from the friction of your thighs, chasing what you were seconds from having. 

When you begin to wonder what takes him so long, you turn to face him staring out of the window, his silhouette blocking the light of the streetlamp that normally floods in through the glass. The fingers that were toying with your cunt seconds ago twitch by his side rubbing together the remnants of your slick, so sensual that it has you biting your bottom lip. Before he closes the curtain he takes those fingers and puts them in his mouth as if he’s just swiped the whipped cream from atop a pudding he’s forbidden to have. But sometimes that’s what makes it all the sweeter. 

“Jonathan?” you whisper to pull him from his reverie, your patience waning. 

“Coming,” he says gently. “Just taking it all in. You, me…” he snaps the curtains closed and plunges you both into darkness, “your taste on my tongue.” 

Slowly and somewhat menacingly he turns around and his shoulders are hunched, his fists are clenched, his breathing is audibly racing. The tone instantly changes when he comes to stand over you, his fingers tilting your chin up to look at him directly. It hooks you in immediately, suddenly feeling the compulsion to do whatever he wants, to go wherever he guides you. 

Jonathan’s voice slithers through the air like a snake through the wreaths, worming its way into the valley of your ears so clear and precise. “I know I said I was going to take this slowly and I whole-heartedly intend to follow through with that. But just so you know, I don’t think I can be gentle. Can you allow me that?” 

“Yes, Jonathan, yes.” 

“Good.” 

It amazes you how one short syllable completely changes the aura of the room, how easily Jonathan commands control of the situation because all of a sudden, the gentle traces of his fingertips circling your chin changes to a clawed hand around your neck, drawing you into an all-consuming kiss that’s more powerful than before. Without missing a single beat, he forces you onto your back and hovers over you, caging you in and anchoring his weight down onto your pelvis. It should feel claustrophobic and intrusive, but instead it feels like a sanctuary; warm, safe, secure.

Where it feels like he belongs.

Shivers race up your spine and throw your hands into motion as they cling onto his shirt, luring him even closer until the beat of his heart is pounding against yours. Not only that, but you can feel his hips thrusting into yours, grinding his contained cock against your heat and it elicits a moan from both of you. With a sudden rush of adrenaline, he races to undo his belt, pulling himself free and you almost squeal with the anticipation of knowing how well he can undo you with one swift thrust. But like Jonathan promised, he isn’t going to rush this. He slowly peels off your underwear until you are well and truly exposed.

Not without a few pumps of his fist, he lines himself up and anchors you down, teasing your entrance with the head of his leaking cock, giving you a taster of what’s to come. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he grumbles into your mouth. “Always have, always will.” 

“Please stop talking.”

“Or what, huh?” he chuckles. He takes the head of his cock and batters it against your swollen clit. Deliberately, you guess, to render you speechless. And it works, the snide quip hot on your lips quickly loses all conviction and you’re back to moans and whimpers. “‘S what I thought. You and I both know how much we want this. How much we’ve missed this.”

This time you take the chance to bite back before he robs you of it. “Well get on with it, then.” 

Now driven, he snags your bottom lip with his teeth dragging it out until it’s released with a pop. “Fine.”

Giving you a final taste of his lips, he comes to a stand taking your legs with him with a mighty pull until your hips lie just over the precipice of the bed. He hugs your legs to his chest, his cock lining up with your exposed cunt perfectly and with powerful thrust, he sinks deep into you. All of the air punches out of your lungs in a single beat and you claw at the bed sheets while you fight for your breath back. You’re momentarily debilitated while you acclimate to his size, filling you so effortlessly. Despite being slightly uncomfortable, it’s a welcome intrusion and you’re thankful that he gives you a minute.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Holy fuck.”

Not a moment later, he pulls his hips back, completely withdrawing and just when you think you’ve got your breath back he charges into you again, snapping his hips against your ass and sending aftershocks up the length of your body. It’s a motion he repeats over and over again, giving you that pleasurable feeling of being so full of him as he grinds into you all to be taken away within a moment leaving utterly empty. You have just enough awareness to listen out for the staccato notes of his hips slapping against yours followed by your sheepish sobs. 

It’s insatiable. He never changes pace and the power of his thrusts never falters. He certainly doesn’t allude to breaking his promise of rushing things and frustratingly so, continues his slow rampage, finding pleasure in that little sweet spot where the swollen ridge of his cock drags from your cunt. It’s enough to get you going, but not enough to finish you off. 

“I need more,” you beg between breaths. “Please.” 

Jonathan doesn’t respond, and instead waits until the cheeks of your ass are red raw from his poundings (which feels like a lifetime) and only then, does he take a new approach. Your legs swing apart, forced wide open by his greedy hands and you’re left to watch with bated breath as he drops to his knees and devours you.

“Fuck, Jonathan!”

“Mm, that’s right, baby, say my name.” 

“Jonath--fuck!” His mouth completely consumes every inch of your cunt, lavishing the taste of you with his tongue from deep within you to the tip of your clit. Amongst the buzzes of his hum, the soft scrape of his beard, and the crescent-moon marks pressing into your waist, your back arches as desire slowly morphs into a desperate pain, needing to give his hot mouth more access to your cunt if it was at all possible. And just when you think you are ready to give in, he steals the moment from you. With two fingers, he slots them easily into you and starts working your pussy at a torturous pace. 

“Look how soaked you are.” His lips brush against your clit as he speaks, a depraved grunt rolling from the back of his throat. 

“I’m gonna cum.” 

“Do it. I want it. I wanna taste you. I want you.” 

Your heart grows, a small smile appearing on your lips. The warmth of affection stills you momentarily to appreciate how you have your old love back, the man you could never really get over, that all those years of waiting and wanting are over. You don’t know what it was about the sudden softness and love-drunkenness that washed through you, but God, he was stunning. Everything about him was annoyingly perfect. Stupidly, annoyingly perfect. Yet, here he was, lavishing you as if you were an elixir of life.

Your fingers itch to race through his locks to pull him closer, tempted to never let him go. Through his dark lashes, his lust-heavy eyes find yours as if he knew what you were insinuating.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m never leaving. Let go for me.” 

You didn’t need to be told again. With the final swipe of his tongue across your clit, you internal combust, your entire body folding into itself with Jonathan trapped between your thighs. 

----

You and Jonathan spent the night catching up on all the years you spent apart, sharing orgasm after orgasm until you were completely and utterly spent. Despite only having just a few hours of sleep, you awoke early in the morning, just in time to see the sun rise over the peak of your neighbours’ houses. All is calm in the street aside from the few birds tweeting in Mira’s tree and Jonathan’s steady breathing beside you. The tranquil, blissful few moments of consciousness fills you with a sense of rejuvenation from all that has happened within the last 24 hours. If it hadn’t been for Mira’s approval beforehand, you would be drowning in guilt. You make a mental reminder to talk to her and apologise later. 

You roll over on your side of the bed to find Jonathan sleeping peacefully beside you, his hand tucked under his chin like it always did when he was deep in slumber and you quirk a smile when you realise that nothing’s changed. With a delicate finger, you sweep away the curl resting against his forehead, careful not to wake him but yet he still stirs, readjusting himself subconsciously. Though not fully awake, he reaches out for you as if it was instinct and little do you know, it is. Every morning since you split, Jonathan had always reached out for you to find nothing but empty cold space on the other side of his bed and it was a sad reality he couldn’t quite accept. But now, when his fingertips feel the warmth of your skin against his, he doesn’t hesitate to lure you into his embrace to relish the lingering scent of your perfume, the slow beating of your heart, the little content hum singing from your throat. You’re here. You’re real. And he’s certain to never lose you again.

In his drowsy state, he puckers his lips in a timid kiss to the surface of your forehead. 

“Love you,” he quietly murmurs. 

With a breathy laugh, you return his kiss, whispering the same words against his bare chest directly over his heart. 

I love you too, Jonathan Fucking Levy. 

[eyelessfaces]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

so... this is my first time trying kinktober, and I'm nervous lmao. it's a lot for me to process and writing all of this is a bit overwhelming which is why I decided that I won't be writing for all 31 days.

all prompts are taken from @flightlessangelwings, thank you for making this list!!

follow and turn on notifications on my sideblog to be notified when I post! @eyelessupdates

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏: love bites with poe dameron

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐: bath/shower with jonathan levy

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟒: sex pollen with poe dameron

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟕: slow and soft with rydal keener

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟐: formal wear with steven grant

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎: sex toys with ellie williams

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟏: hate sex with blue jones

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟑: dirty talk with santiago garcia

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟒: lingerie with llewyn davis

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟔: face sitting with llewyn davis

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑𝟎: cunnilingus with poe dameron

!!please note that this post will be updated with the links once I post the fics, and I also only put the days I'm 100% done with for the moment. I'm currently writing for other prompts that aren't on this list yet, and I'll add them once the fic in question is finished. I don't wanna announce something I will never post in case I give up what I started writing or can't make it on time:)

(please reblog if you want to help me get more visibility on this lol)

[st4rymoon]

♡ 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ♡

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟖: 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐲 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: implied age gap (18+), overstimulation, p in v, soft dom Jonathan, loss of virginity, pet names (honey, love, bunny, sweetheart), creampie, soft dom levy, needy reader, fingering, pussy! Eating

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Jonathan was surprised when you told him you were a virgin. He knew you definitely had no trouble finding someone who would want to sleep with you but he quickly realized it was because you never really wanted to.

He admired that in you, you never did anything you didn’t want to do. You had no problems with saying no and setting boundaries with him when you first started dating.

Being the man he is, he respect it and reassured you there was no pressure in anything. The heavy make outs and soft grinding through each others clothes drove both of you insane and it always seemed to build up the sexual tension.

But here you were, straddling him like you usually do, both of you messily kissing as you whispered onto his cheek “I’m ready”

“Mmh?” Jonathan moaned, slightly pulling back from your lips in his lust drunken state. “I’m ready, you know, to have sex” you shyly repeated.

He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, staring at you with his lips plump and perfect. “You sure sweetheart?” He hummed as his lips latched onto your neck.

“Yes, yes” you whined as his hands held your face up to his “one hundred percent?” He cooed “yes! I said yes” you chuckled. “Ok love, you want me to stop say red” he hummed.

You nodded drunkenly as his hands snaked up your thighs, lifting ur skirt and snapping the band on your panties onto your skin.

You gasped at the sensation, his thick calloused fingers gliding on your clothed pussy. His lips trailed soft kisses onto the sides of your neck, down your arms and stopping at your tits.

Jonathan watched in admiration as you began to whine at his touch, he loved knowing how sensitive his pretty girl was. “Feeling good love?” He cooed, you nodded in response. Your hips had a mind of their own, grinding onto his digits through your thin panties.

He groaned at the feeling of your slick dripping through you panties, the sticky slick coating his fingers through the fabric “all this for me huh?” He smiled.

“Please” you whined as you took in the feeling of his cock bulging through his pants “I need you, please” you pleaded. Jonathan could’ve came to the sound of your voice if he didn’t hold himself back, you sounded perfect.

“Need me how bunny? Tell me what you want, use your words” he cooed, hand on your cheek as he watched you grind onto his lap. “Fu- fuck, you! I need you.. inside me please, fuck me” you cried, feeling impatient you began to tug at his sweats.

He chuckled as he let you eagerly tug his sweats off, leaving in him boxers and his grey tee. “Please Jonathan” you purred as your lips latched onto his neck, softly sucking and biting onto his skin. “Take these off f’me”

He helped you take off your panties, leaving your soaked pussy out in few view for him. His cock strained against his boxers as he felt your slick on his thigh causing him to eagerly kick off his boxers.

“Not letting you do the work” he purred as he pushed you onto your back. His hands moved onto the back of your thighs, his rough hands pinning your legs open for him to admire what’s his.

“All needy for me huh bunny? Look at you” he cooed as one of his fingers dragged down your sticky folds. You shivered at the new feeling, the feeling of someone’s hands on your cunt other than yourself.

Your hips rolled as Jonathan rubbed small circles onto your swollen clit, his eyes trained on your face to watch you make a mess on his fingers already.

He loves how sensitive you are, each little touch he gave you made you whine and whimper. You watched him as he licked his fingers clean of your slick, his arms shifting himself down between your thighs as he never broke eye contact.

“Gotta get you ready for me honey, make sure you feel good” he mumbled, it came out more like a whine. Jonathan could feel his blood pumping through his veins as he was inches away from your pussy.

His cock was harder than ever as he imagined himself fucking you, ruining you for any other man and claiming you his. “Eyes on me”

You let out a loud gasp as you felt his soft lips and beard rub against your pussy. The new sensation making you shiver while he dove into you deeper. He let out a depraved moan as your thighs closed instinctively, caging him in.

He effortlessly spread your legs open, now bobbing and eating you out like a mad man. You could hear how wet you were, how sweet he sounded moaning into your pussy.

You were holding onto the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white, hips bucking forward towards him in bliss. “F- fu- fuck jonat-“ you panted out.

You watched him eat you out, he looked like he enjoyed it as much as you did. Your hands tangled onto his hair as you felt the knot in your stomach forming, god you were sure you’d maybe even squirt from the feeling.

Your orgasm washed over you, cum gushing out of you as he continued to roll his tongue around your clit. You cried in pleasure as he continued, your body jerking and shaking from the overstimulation.

“Takes so good honey” he moan, his beard was covered in slick as he pulled away softly “did so fucking good f’me”

He rubbed the back of his hand onto his beard, cleaning your slick off lazily as he yanked you forward. “My pretty girl” he cooed, his hands moving up your tummy and back down to your thighs as he savored your glossy eyes.

“Gonna go slow ok?” He nodded down as he aligned himself between your thighs. “Yes yes please” you whispered desperately.

You watched Jonathan’s eyebrows furrowed as he pushed into you, your pussy clenching around him as he softly went deeper.

You let you a loud moan as he stretched you open, his fat tip spreading you perfectly and pushing deeper as you adjusted to his size. Your nails dig into his arms as he watched himself slip inside “you ok?” He grunted as he looked up at you in worry, he tried his best to keep everything slow.

“Mmhm” you nodded “you can move”

He nodded and thrusted his hips inside you, loud moans spilling out of both of you as you felt him hit somewhere you could never reach. Your pussy squeezed around him as you clenched “a- ah fuck breath honey or else I’m- imma fill you up” he hissed.

You tried your best to relax, allowing him to pick up the pace. You bounced with each of his thrust as he filled you fill, the feeling of his thick veiny cock rubbing against your gushy walls was intoxicating.

“Faster” you gasped, he obliged, your mouth flew open as he lost himself inside you. His pretty curls bouncing on his head as he held onto your hips for dear life. Jonathan couldn’t believe you felt this good, he couldn’t believe anything could felt this fucking amazing.

He wasn’t aware of how fast he was slamming into you but you could care less, he was hitting the perfect spot inside you as he pounded you onto the sheets.

“My pretty little girl, let- letting me fuck this pretty fucking pussy” he hissed as he watched the ring of cum forming at his base.

“A- oh fu- fuck!” You moaned as you clenched around him, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. The pretty moans spilling out of you made Jonathan hiss, one of his hands holding your hip down and the other keeping himself up as he came inside you.

You smiled dumbly at him as he muttered praises, looking just as ruined as you were. His eyes were squeezed shut as he stuffed you full with his cum. He felt like was cumming more than usual, and he was.

He held onto your hips as his cock continued to spurt inside you “go- oh my f- fuck honey” he cursed, his body instinctively pushing his hips even deeper inside you.

You clawed at his back as he thrusted slowly, a sigh of relief came out of you as he finally let it all out. You’ve never seen Jonathan so damn messy.

He stared down at your pussy as he watched your tight hole spill his loads out onto the couch. “Can’t have that” he hummed as he pushed his cum back inside with his fingers.

You squirmed as he watched you with an adoring smile. He leaned in for a kiss as he pulled out of you.

“You did perfect for me sweetheart”

[winniethewife]

Could you write something angsty for Jonathan? Perhaps some kind of argument that ends in some hate sex?

No pressure whatsoever but I absolutely love your writing 🩵

Hello Anon! Thank you for your kind words, I hope this little drabble is what you were hoping for! Another Mini Kinktober!

Among the things that didn’t matter

(Jonathan Levy x F!reader)

Warnings: Hate sex, age gap, fighting, public sex, pinv, quick and dirty, unprotected sex, reader doesn’t cum.

Words: 526

She had one question, just the one question. Why? Why the fuck would he straight up ghost her after everything? She found his office and checked to make sure there weren’t any students in sight before opening the door, slamming it shut behind her and locking the door. Jonathan looked up shocked to see her, he knew exactly why she was there. He felt a guilty feeling gnawing at his heart.

“Hey…Uh…” He started but she held her hand up. He slowly stood up and approaches her cautiously.

“Let me talk, then I’ll get out of your life. I felt sorry for you, with your divorce, with everything you have going on. You made me feel so welcome here, a freshly graduated student hardly ever makes professor but you were so kind to me. To turn around and not answer my calls or texts for weeks after our date, it’s just fucking rude. I just…I thought we were…I don’t know maybe I’m just young and naïve and delusional but I-” she was interrupted by his lips on hers and his arms around her, she immediately pulls away. “What the absolute fuck?!” She shouts.

“Sorry I just…Ugh it’s uh…I should have…god you’re hot when you’re mad.” He tried to form words but ultimately gave up.

“Are you fucking serious? I come here to fucking tell you it’s over and you can’t keep it in your pants for long enough for me to break up with you?” She was livid, but the sight of the older man’s arousal bringing back memories from that night... She didn’t know what she was doing, but suddenly her lips met his again, she couldn’t keep her hands off of him as she angrily started to rip at his clothes, pulling up her skirt as he bent her over the desk, his hard length pressed into her, all their senses filled with each other as he railed her over his desk.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this, you’re pissed at me I know but god you look like Aphrodite, so beautiful but filled with rage” he started babbling as he fucked into her relentlessly. She let out a low growl.

“Shut the fuck up you twit, just fuck me so I can get the hell out of here!” She hissed as she clutches the desk. She didn’t need to be compared to deities, she just needed to cum. He didn’t even respond to her insult she instead he just got to work, thrusting into her, breathing heavily as he pulled her, sliding into her again and again. She felt the pleasure winding up in her abdomen, he felt his own climax approaching as he fucked into her. He lets out a groan as he painted her insides with his spend. She felt all of the buildup fade away as he pulled out. She blinks twice. Did he really just…She turns around and slaps him across the face.

“Fuck you Levy. You won’t be hearing form me.” She was seething. He held his face where she had just slapped him and watched as she walked away, out of his office. Out of his life.

~

masterlist

Tags: @silvernight-m @boredzillenial @queerponcho

[blue-sadie]

The Married One

Jonathan Levy x TA Reader

Series Masterlist

Prt 5 of the Different Versions Series

Summary: waking up in a classroom being taught by... marc?

Warning: ta = Teachers Assistant, classroom sex

Yn/3rd person pov

I woke up to someone tapping my shoulder making me grogily raise my head rubbing my eyes harshly before opening them the blurring of colors slowly coming into focus.

"Who know my class didn't only bore students but my ta as well" my eyes moved to the man talking it was a slightly older marc with a few gray hairs, a beard and wore glasses "am I that boring" he asked teasingly as he leaned onto his arms that was settled on the edge of my desk.

"Hmm" I hummed not really hearing him the sleep fogging up my mind "I said" he paused his voice turning into a whisper "am I boring to you" my face blushed as he leaned a bit closer to me his breath fanning over my face "Mr levy" I felt relieved as a student called out to him making him stand and turn away.

"Yes ms wilson" he asked walking over to her desk, I looked over the class the board was covered in information and diagrams of the brain before they drifted back to the man he chuckled from something the student said, his curls swayed as he threw his hear back.

I was lost in thought but was abruptly brought back into reality as the loud bell echoed through the room "ok class remember the assignment is due next week thursday no extensions" he clapped his hands together as he spoke to gain the attention of the class.

The students packed up their things in a rush to get out only a few taking it slow as they spoke to their friends "you look beautiful ms yn" my eyes snapped to the students as I heard one call out from the crowd making a few of the other students laughed "that'd enough Jaden" Mr levy snapped loudly making the boys shut up.

The classroom immediately became quiet as the students left and Mr levy walked to the door and closed it "thank you" I murmured putting my hands into my lap as my eyes stared down at my small desk "he's a fucking asshole" he swore as he made his way to his desk sitting down with a sigh.

I nervously tapped my thigh as we fell into silence I looked around biting my cheek I didn't know what to do, leaning my head back against my chair "still bored" I straightened up as he spoke my eyes meeting his as he looked at me over the lense of his glasses a few pieces of his hair falling into his face.

"I don't know what to do" I murmured turning my chair to him, his eyes moved up and down my body I could see him bite his lip before sighing "we have no more classes for a few hours so please go to the office and print these" he said grabbing a few papers and holding them out for me to take.

I quickly rose from my seat and took them from him "don't be too long in the office I'll need to over a few of those before class" he mumbled as he typed away on his laptop I nodded my head not sure if he'll see it or not, I quickly made my way out the door looking for any directions or something to lead me to the office.

"Hey yn wait up" I turned around as someone called my name to see a man running towards me, he looked a little older then me with blonde hair that fell into his face as he ran "heading to the office" he asked panting as he slowed down beside me "yes" I murmured he nodded his head acknowledging my answer "i-i'll walk with you" he muttered breathlessly and started to walk with me.

I followed a little bit behind him as he lead me to the office "oh what's this" he asked taking the papers out my hands before I could protest his eyes scanning over them as he rambled on "I can't before you actually like that man as a person" he laughed making me narrow my eyes at him "Mr levy" I asked confused on what he ment "yea that man is a complete asshole do you hear him and his wife are divorcing" he muttered looking at me ever few seconds but not my face my breasts.

I didn't feel comfortable around this man, I wrapped my arms around my stomach nervously "he's probably perving on you every chance he gets" he growled 'kinda like you you sick fuck' I rolled my eyes and was relieved when I saw the office sign "I think I'm ok from here thanks" I murmured taking the papers back from him before walking slightly faster to disappear into the room.

I went to the printer placing the paper inside and pressed print "you know if I was your boyfriend I would never let you leave home" I tensed as I felt his breath on my neck "please leave me alone" I said shakely making him chuckle and place his hands on my hips stopping me from moving.

"I think it's what you want deep down to stay home to be looked after" his words made me cringe away from him as he leaned over to whisper in my ear "it's not" I stated "I think your ly-" he dwindled as he heard the door open "I suggest you back the fuck away from my ta Jenkins" I felt relieved as I heard levy's voice "jonathan levy why can't you just leave us alone I'm not hurting her so what's the problem" the man removed his hands from my waist as he turned to jonathan.

"Yn get to my classroom now" mr levy muttered looking over jenkins shoulder to me I nodded and left without a word, I wondered around the hallway intill I found my way back to his class the uneasy feeling somewhat subsiding as I closed the door I slumped over to the desk sitting on the edge of it as I waited.

It was only a few minutes before he returned, my eyes wondered over looking for any injury or something else the only indication of something happening was the reddening of his knuckles "what happened" I asked going to him as he shut the door "he won't bother you anymore" he growled as he pushed past me to get to his desk.

I fumbled with my hands as I walked back towards him "thank you" I whispered "you've saved me more then once today" I stopped infront of him nervously intertwining my hands "is there anyway I could repay you" I asked making him bite his lip and groan leaning his head back "don't fucking do this" he growled adjusting himself on the table.

"But what if I want to" I whispered stepping closer to him, he stared at me with danger and hunger in his eyes his labored breaths made his chest heave as he grabbed me to pull me close turning us around so I was pressed up against the desk "fuck I wanted this for some long" he muttered before pressing his lips against mine.

I moaned into his mouth as he ran his hands up and down my thigh slowly inching its way up my skirt "I fucking need you, begging for my cock" he grunted moving my panties aside sticking two of his fingers inside, "fuck mr levy" I whined my knees buckling making him push me more onto the table "fuck say my name baby just like that" he muttered curling his fingers making me see stars.

"Please mr levy" I moaned but whined out as he pulled his fingers out, he slowly brought his glistening fingers to his mouth licking them to get all of my juices while maintaining eye contact with me "sweeter then I thought" he growled and forced me to lay down on the desk my eyes followed his hands movement as he undid his belt and zipper and as his hand slowly slid into his boxers fetching out his cock.

His eyes became half lidded and full of lust as he slowly pumped his cock a few times before pressing it against my entrance, "beg me for it" he muttered sliding the tip up and down my slit "beg me to fuck you" he growled I whined loudly squirming on the desk "please, please fuck me please" I whined he chuckled darkly and slowly pushed in.

I moaned out as he leaned onto his arms pressing his dick further inside me "your so fucking tight for a little slut" his words made me whine and shake underneath him "my little slut" he said bringing his lips to mine, our lips molded together as he started moving in and out of me "fuck" he groaned against my lips.

He moved his lips to my neck sucking harshly at my skin as he thrusted "m-mr levy" I moaned out throwing my head back against the wood "please" my shook as I moaned I felt myself clench around him as I neared my climax and so was he, his groans and grunts fueling my desire "fuck fuck fuck" I cried out as I cam around him and soon after he did too filling me up with his seed, the panting of my breathe made me tired and my eyes fluttering.

"Good thing I can use you whenever I want because you are my little slut"

[faretheeoscar]

SWEET LIES

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x Reader

--Warnings: 🔥18+, nsfw, oral sex, mentions of unprotected sex (take care of yourselves guys), lots of angst(Jonathan is a soft jerk), praise kink, contextual/ small? spoilers of scenes of a marriage (read under at your own risk if you haven’t seen it), age gap, sub-ish Jonathan (?), student/professor relationship (so much warnings omg)--

A/N: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there’s any mistakes

Thanks to vin for her insights on Jonathan 🫶🏼

Word count: 2.1 k ~

You knew he was trouble, with all the backstory this man had; two failed marriages, two families to feed, and an inflated new ego due to his new success on his study field that led him to do international Ted talks amongst other things; this man exuded powerful energy from wherever angle you saw him, although that may be the case when he was in public; when you saw him giving lectures or speaking amongst his peers, but you knew other sides of Jonathan, he showed you a different side of himself when he was alone with you, you very well knew how this man could became all mushy and needy after a single peck on the lips, but also he could be dominant, specially when he had you bend over his desk as he pounded relentlessly deep inside you from behind late at night on a dark classroom after finishing the lecture and making sure to lock the door.

-----------------------------------

This was your routine with Jonathan, every Wednesday you had your after hours session with your professor after his lecture, it all began when you started to stay after class to ask him about everything and anything you could think, not even really caring on his answers or the extra homework and research he sometimes gave you just because you asked something so rhetorical that he didn't even had the answer but he hid it in a very smart way making you do a 100 page essay about the topic just for you to "figure the question out for yourself", all that extra work only for you to stay on his presence for a few more minutes after class and please your dumb college crush with your professor.

Eventually one thing led to another, Jonathan was a very smart man and he started to notice the way you carried yourself around him and he liked it, A LOT, he noticed the longing gazes you gave him whenever he was giving a lecture, the dumb smile and pink hue your cheeks turned every time he praised you for answering a question he asked to the class, the lingering touches on his arm whenever you said goodbye to him, and finally those tiny tight little skirts you always wore to his class even if it was freezing outside, those things slowly started driving him crazy for you, feeling the need to bury himself deep inside you and fuck you senseless until you got so cock drunk on him that he'd ruined sex for you, you wouldn’t even turn your head around to be with another dumb college boy who couldn't satisfy you the way he would if he had the chance.

Those thoughts lingered in his head every time he saw you, his cock would get hard at the slight sight of your thighs when you moved in your chair at class, all that sometimes giving him embarrassing boners he couldn't hide unless he sat down behind his desk or excused himself to the bathroom to try to calm himself down, that kept happening until one day he couldn't handle it anymore and he took you for the first time after class. That day he noticed that after he was explaining to you a random question you had about the meaning of life, you opened slightly your legs for him to catch a glimpse of your wet panties below your loose skirt.

Soon after the class ended he went mad, his desires possessed him over when you came to his desk and leaned a little bit closer to him, giving him the opportunity to devour your mouth as if he was famished, drank your juices as if he was dehydrated and pounded into you in a way that it left you with a small limp the next day.

At the beginning it was only the rush of rough needy sex and the excitement of experimenting with one another, but when you started to get little hints of Jonathan’s life, of his real essence when he decided to share a little bit of himself when he was on a post nut clarity after filling you up with his cum until it leaked down your thighs like the pretty little girl you were for letting him do it, you started to fall for your professor, and you were falling hard, it wasn’t on your plans at all, to fall in love with a man that could be easily your father or a really young uncle? Definitely not what you had in mind, you always tried to push away your feelings for him, but you couldn’t help yourself , every time you walked into the same room as your professor the air got thicker, heavier, an invisible force always pulling you towards him, and the small little glimpses he gave you of his life, those were a lifeline to you.

------- 

And that’s how you always fell into the same situation, by couldn’t focusing on the bigger picture, on what was best for you, to avoid the lies, because each time he had his two fat fingers deep inside your pussy while he was eating you out like a starving man from below your skirt, not even worrying to pull off your panties from you and just pushing them to the side when his eyes went crazy after he felt how wet you were for him, you couldn’t help but feel like you were in heaven, like you were the most desirable creature in the world.

He knew about your developing feelings towards him, and boy did he took advantage of your sweet little innocence, always praising you and letting you hear what you wanted in exchange for you to give yourself fully to him, to keep you hooked on a non existent developing relationship as he kept making you empty promises.

 

“We’re gonna be together soon, I promise."

 

He mumbled as his digits went deeper inside you, touching your soft, velvety walls in ways that made you shiver.

 

“I’m gonna leave her, I'm gonna leave everything behind for you, baby."

 

You knew there were all lies; they had to be; this man was deprived from all sense of loyalty a long time ago because his demons haunted him until this day and he let himself be consumed by them, but that didn’t impede you from clenching around his fingers so hard as he tried to push them into you so deep that he could barely move them.

 

"God, you’re so beautiful; I’m gonna be with you forever.”

 

Lies, lies and more lies, sweet little lies that drove you mad as you squirmed under his touch, you knew he’ll be gone as soon as he finished with you, like always, he’ll go back to take care of his family, he’ll tell you he is going to leave them and then come back next week with the same lies but with the same starving and lusty look whenever he looked at you that made you clench around nothing, that made your knees go weak, until you knelt down in front of him forgiving every single false promise and sucking his cock so hard he’ll came in just a couple of minutes, Jonathan, sweet, but intelligent jerk Jonathan the man you loved, that will never be yours fully, you always tried to extend your time together as long as you could, you would taste him and love him as passionate as you could, although he told you over and over again that this was not passion, he didn't believed in that, he told you this was something deeper, a true connection between the two of you, but yet again you knew he was lying, he always lies, still you believed him when you kissed him and his tongue danced with yours, for just a couple of hours he was yours, and only yours, he loved you, but it was fleeting, just as the time you spent with him, his love will fleet and yours remained so deep inside you sometimes it hurt to even breathe.

Even though he was lying to you, saying all those things for your enjoyment, to keep you on the edge and hooked on him, when the opportunity of being with him presented itself to you, it didn’t really matter cause of Jonathan's skillful hands and tongue always moved so in and out of sync, giving you something that no one else has given you before, as his big fat digits always teased your hole, curling upwards just in the right way to reach your G-spot over and over again as his tongue flicked your clit in the most hypnotic way.

 

“My sweet girl, my sweet, beautiful, good girl.”

 

He ate you like a starving man, his licks and sucks on your clit becoming more enraged as he got lost in your scent and taste, making him moan and grunt as he reached for his pants with his free hand and started palming himself through his corduroy khakis.

 

“Oh god-You drive me crazy, baby”

 

He grunted as he kept palming himself in rhythm with his fingers that were thrusting into you, attacking your G-spot as he kept on abusing your clit, with his tongue feeling how tight your little hole was getting as you went close to your release.

 

“F-fuck baby girl...God, I-”

Jonathan kept moaning for you, it almost sent you spiraling at the sight of how ruined and pathetic this grown ass man sounded, desperately whining while drinking your juices, with messy curly hair thanks to the hard tugs you did to it as you tried to hold him as close to you as possible, not that he wanted to be in another situation, cause that man, he was so pussy drunk, he was almost coming in his pants at the mere scent of you.

 

“I- I love you.”

 

Jonathan whispered softly against your core, and with that, you came undone. Your legs shook, and you contorted your face in ecstasy as your climax hit you hard, leaving you seeing stars. Your mixed moans, along with Jonathan's, echoed in the room as he also embarrassingly made a mess out of his corduroy khakis, a big stain of cum now seeping through the fabric.

 

Jonathan got his head out of your skirt and chuckled softly as he saw you were as ruined for him as he was all ruined for you. He brushed the slick of your juices off his beard with the back of his hand and gave you a soft smile while a pink blush colored his cheeks because of his little incident on his pants, something different was different that day, some sparkling in his eyes.

You looked up at him with a stupid, dumb smile, hopeful about what just happened between you both and the deeper meaning of it. You wanted to ask him about what he said to you just seconds ago, his words ringing and repeating inside your head over and over again.

You wanted to speak, but words didn’t come out, getting trapped in your throat as you looked at him dumbfounded, something he mistakenly took as a look of pure ecstasy after taking care of you, lifting his ego more, as if his ego wasn’t inflated enough already.

 

He chuckled at your lack of words and pinched the side of your cheek before speaking.

 

“See you next week after class, then? Hm, same time?”

 

Your head still in a stupid post-orgasm haze and lost in the sweet words he told you, made you nod your head softly to him, without being able to say anything you wanted to tell him, he gave you a soft peck on the lips just before running his hand through his messy curls to arrange them, tucking out his shirt from his pants to hide the mess he made of himself, and picking up his bag to slouch it over his shoulder, trying to look as presentable as he could on the way from the classroom to his car. You wished he would stay and talk to you softly, to talk about your feelings, but instead he was again leaving you alone in the dark classroom with your heart on your sleeve.

 

You thought you had it all figured out when you saw there was a spark in his eyes; it was different from other encounters you have had with him before, but you couldn’t quite put the words to what it was.

Maybe he was truthful with his words? Or maybe he really didn’t care at all. Either way, you’ve fallen for Jonathan’s sweet, sweet lies.

 

Again...

Fic Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are kindly appreciated 🫶🏼

[melodygatesauthor]

Choking in Silence

Jonathan Levy X gn!Reader

Blurb 21 for Melody's 2023 Ficversary Celebration

NSFW below the cut

“Yeah, I’ll b-be there,” professor Levy rasped to the dean, his cock buried halfway down your throat.

He’d told you to stop when she walked into his office, but you couldn’t help yourself. How were you meant to resist when you were trapped between both his legs and the back of the desk with the scent of his musk surrounding you and not do something about it. You’d tried for a moment, but it’s like his leaking tip was staring at you, begging to feel your lips around it once more, and you couldn’t stop salivating at the thought.

“Wonderful, I tried to get Sandy to participate but…”

Her voice trailed into the back of your mind while you silently, and very slowly sucked and lapped along his length. You felt his legs shaking on either side of your shoulders, a signature reaction of his as he got closer to climax.

You felt his hand on the back of your head and a tug forward, plunging his throbbing cock deep in your esophagus while he pumped every drop of cum he had into your body. You could hear him huffing deeply through his nostrils, doing well to keep himself from moaning loudly.

He let out a loud sigh, “sorry,” he mumbled. You heard him fumbling around and grabbing some tissues to blow his nose. “Thought I might have to sneeze.”

Even if the dean seemed to believe his lie, you knew professor Levy would have some choice words for you later…

Melody's 2023 Ficversary Masterlist

[moonpascaltoo]

jonathan levy

MASTERLIST • OSCAR ISAAC CHARACTERS • 06/24/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 filthy I @spacecowboyhotch

that’s the thing about illicit affairs, clandestine meetings and longing stares.

𑣲 premature I @reallyrallyauthor

You try to find out Jonathan Levy's kinks.

𑣲 the house I @/reallyrallyauthor

Jonathan airbnb’s his old house to surprise you, and test himself

𑣲 california baby I @/reallyrallyauthor

Jonathan feels like a different man in California, the kind who picks up a woman at a bar. But casual sex isn’t really his strong suit, and it turns out you two have a lot in common.

𑣲 dilf central I @/reallyrallyauthor

𑣲 pretty when you cry I @bastardmandennis

You don't mind being Jonathan's TA--until he makes a mistake that almost costs you your job, and you decide to confront him about it.

𑣲 lover's exchange part 2 I @h0unds-of-h3ll

After submitting your final. Jonathan’s more than intrigued as to where the inspiration comes from. 

𑣲 breathe part 2 I @youvebeenlivingfictional

You’re both quite high, but you’re a little more controlled than he is. Well, it’s not your first time. You think he’s handling it pretty well, though. He’s had a couple of bouts of pure giggliness for no reason at all, and they’ve begun and tapered off all on their own. But now he’s watching you.

𑣲 dirty talk I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

𑣲 walkies I @/youvebeenlivingfictional

𑣲 untitled I @sweetly-yours-and-mine

Sipping from the other's drink

𑣲 falling I @eyelessfaces

you used to be a good distraction from jonathan's problems, but now you have become one of them, confronting him to his biggest fear: falling in love again.

𑣲 every little thing I @strsburn

in which hearts are mended

𑣲 scenes from a divorce I @freelancearsonist

[boredzillenial]

A Simple Arrangement

Warnings: f!reader, established relationship, Somnophilia, fingering (vaginal and anal), brief mention of needing to use the bathroom (idk if this should be a warning but it’s in there), oral (m!receiving), praise, use of sex toy, use of condom, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms for f!reader

Word count: 1325

You and Jonathan had been seeing each other for a few months now and had come to an understanding. You both were recovering from brutal divorces and just trying to find physical comfort, too mentally and emotionally exhausted to date again. You’d even gone so far to give each other keys so coming over late at night was less of a hassle. You both could come and go, get what you need from each other, and lock the door behind yourselves as you leave.

This wasn’t the first night you woke up to him grinding against you. His hand snaked around your hip and between your legs as his beard scratched softly against your shoulder. His lips found purchase on your neck as he worked his fingers through your folds. You wrapped your arm around his head to pull him in as you took a deep breath, barely waking from the depths of sleep. He took this as encouragement as he locked your leg between his and pushed the other away to open you wider to his touch. His teeth dragged against your shoulder eliciting a groan from you and began to work his fingers around your clit. “F-fuck.” You sighed as you turned onto your back and the fog of sleep slowly began to thin.

His mouth moved from your shoulder to your chest as he took your nipple. Swirling his tongue around the hardness there as you arched. “Jonathan.” You groan and writhe, his legs locked and around yours as he dipped his fingers into your folds. His finger sunk in and curved deliciously as you gasped. He worked his fingers slowly, drawing out and rubbing your slickness up over your clit then sinking back down into you. “Fuck Jonatha-“ he cut you off as his lips covered yours, driving his tongue and fingers in time with one another. He swallowed your groans and whimpers as he pushed you further, moving his thumb over your clit and pumping his fingers deeper.

He slowly released your leg from his and pulled away. You bit your lip and whimpered sleepily at the lack of touch. “Shh I’m right here.” He chuckled and repositioned himself between your legs, pushing them apart and sinking his fingers back into you soaking core. You groan and arch at the feeling of his fingers filling you. His thumb finding your clit again and working into you. You heard him spit, feeling it hit your lips and glide between the cleft of your ass. You open your eyes and see a smirk play across his face in the bit of light that highlighted him in your darkened bedroom. “Relax.” He cooed as he rubbed his other thumb across your tight ring of muscle and pushed in slowly. You couldn’t help the sounds coming from you as he put both his hands to work.

In just a few strokes you were panting and grabbing the sheets. “Good girl, cum for me.” He said softly as his fingers continued to work. You looked down as the pressure in your belly built. Gods the look on his face could send you over the edge alone, his curls falling across his face and lips parted from the effort of working both your entrances. Your orgasm crashed over you as his fingers kept their pace. “Good girl, keep going.” You spasmed and clenched around him. His thumbs continued as you fell from your peak and the overstimulation sent you twitching.

“T-too much-“ you whimper.

“Alright.” He grinned, pulling out of your slowly. You felt him get off the bed and watched as he walked over into the bathroom to wash his hands, the light and darkness painting his back and ass.

You felt a different kind of pressure low in your belly from your full bladder and sat up, following that exquisite ass to the bathroom and squinting against the brightness in the bathroom as you enter. “Gotta pee.” You say softly as you sit down on the toilet. The mixture of the lingering drowsiness and your orgasm causing you to close your eyes as you relaxed for a moment. You felt the warmth of his hand run around your throat and tilt your head up. You thought for a brief moment he was going to tilt your head up to kiss you but you opened your eyes to see his cock leaking precum and red infront of you a breath before he pushed the tip against your lips.

He let out a soft groan as your lips opened and tongue worked around his sensitive tip. You moved your hands to hold his hips as he began rolling them. Your tongue slid against the underside just the way he liked as he pushed himself deeper. Another groan echoed in the bathroom as he bucked a final time, a bit too deep causing you to gag. “Don’t make me wait.” He said in a low tone as he pulled out of your mouth and walked back to bed. You wiped the tear from your eye from the gag, finishing up your business as quickly as your tired mind and body could.

As you made your way back to the bed you found him kneeling, condom and your vibrator in hand. He tilted his head, his cock bobbing as he did so. You grinned and got infront of him, arching your ass up and grabbing a pillow as he handed you your vibrator. “You better cum on my cock.” He teased as he tore the wrapper and pulled the condom over himself. You chuckled and adjusted the toy against your clit. The low buzzing filling the room as you sigh at the sensation and arched a bit further.

It sent short lighting strikes through your nerves as you ached to be filled. “Hurry u-“ you began to chastise as he sunk into you in one stroke. You buried your face in the pillow to stifle your moan as his hips began to roll, that ache changing from being too hollow to being too full.

His hands gripped into the tender flesh of your hips as he quickened his pace. The sensation of his cock and the vibrations on your clit sent you over the edge in a few hard strokes. “That’s it Attagirl.” He nearly growled under his quickened breath.

You keep the toy where it was, ratcheting up your second orgasm after a few moment as his thrusts turned brutal. The sound of skin on skin filling your dark bedroom.

“Fuck, again already? I can’t keep this up if you clench like that.” He groaned, his thrusts turning uneven.

“S-sorry.” You stammer as as you come down from your high, body relaxed but cunt still pulsing around him.

“Don’t be sorry, needed this.” He groaned as grip tightened, pulling your hips back as he continued. The slight adjustment has you seeing stars as he hit deeper inside you, a whimper escaping your lips. “Give me one more, just.one.more.” He urged, punctuating the last three words with his devastating thrusts.

As you felt yourself crashing down, completely coming undone you heard him groan as he fell with you. Despite the condom you could still feel every pulse as his thrusts came to a halt.

You felt him double over to press his forehead against your back, his breath fanning across your skin sent a shiver through you. “Rough night?” You huffed with a smile.

“Rough month…” he sighed as he sat back up, removing himself slowly. “…mind if I, stay over?” You could hear the hesitation in his voice.

You sit up and turn to him with a small smirk. “Sure, you’re making breakfast though.” You giggle as you smack his ass, almost in a good game kind of way to try and lighten the mood. This earned you not only the reciprocal smirk you were looking for, but also a much longer night that you were expecting.

~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

I hope y’all enjoyed this! As always please let me know what ya think in your reblogs or via DM!

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @lunar-ghoulie @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Please DM if you would like to be added to(or removed from the taglist! Makes it much easier to keep track!

[millerscoffee]

Congrats on your 500 😎

I was thinking...“Touch me there. Right there.” with Jonathan Levy

boy, can i ever - thank you nonnie! hope you enjoy ♡

late night

770 words | jonathan levy x f!reader (professor x student)

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: professor x student, cock warming, creampie, pet name (honey mostly), praise kink, no use of y/n

A/N: this is part of my 500 followers celebration running until 9/9 ♡

You’ll keep my cock warm, won’t you, honey?

That was an hour ago.  You’d been fooling around with Professor Levy for a couple months at this point – Jonathan in the middle of his divorce, and you thought every time you saw him you discovered something new about him, but nothing quite topped this evening in his office: the door locked, the blinds shut, your thighs quaking.

He promises you no one is around, his hands teasing your skirt up, bending you over the desk.  Sits down behind you to peel your underwear to your ankles before working you up just enough to sit you down on his length.

“P-Professor,” your voice is shaky, your skirt hiked up to your low back, his slacks at his thighs, you could tell how wet you were around him.  The collection of your sex makes things slicker as the minutes ticked.  You felt his palm warm over your shoulder and that alone made your insides flutter around him, “Just a minute, honey.  Alright?  I’m grading papers, you know that.” his dominant hand held a red marker, and the warmth moves from your shoulder to your hip on the opposite side.  You gasp at his greedy touch, the way his fingers dig into the skin and curvature there.  You can’t help it, you shift enough to make his cock hit your cervix.  “Ooh,” you squeak, perspiration making its appearance at the nape of your neck.  Everything felt sticky.

Your eyes wander to the paper just to the side of you, focus on his hand critiquing and it’s all blurry.  Your brain is useless like this, and you need movement.  “Please,” beginning to beg, you wonder if that would be of any use, but you can practically feel him ignore you leaving you to whimper, burying your face in your arms.

“You’re being so good for me, you know,” his words are distant, like he’s speaking at you rather than to you, but the praise lifts your head, fingernails clawing at the desk you bite the plush of your bottom lip.  You can’t help but gasp when he puts his pen down.

“How can I help?” He's so attentive, even when he’s busy, and it makes you appreciate him more than Mira ever could.

“N-need to move.  Need you to touch me.”

“Lean back up, honey.”

So you do as you told, head rests back against his shoulder and he ghosts his hands over your body until you’re trembling with need.

“Touch me,” your pathetic pleas fall into his mouth, his tongue lapping and exploring past your lips – his hand reaching for your split clit.  “Here?” Professor Levy teases, his middle finger flicking at the nub teasingly before rolling it under the pads of his fingers, and you’re gone – panting and clawing at anything you can.  “There, there – right fucking there!”  Jonathan’s mouth stops you from making too much noise, his hips only shifting up for a handful of thrusts before you’re clenching and it sends you to your orgasm as the rush of heat pools from your core out to your extremities.  It’s floaty, blissful as you make sweet noises into his mouth, and he’s eager to hum against the current.

“Fuck,” he gruffs, not slowing down the movement of his now eager hips work doubletime, pawing at your tits through your blouse.  “You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky,” his praises leave you blushing, nails curl into his naked thighs and you nod hopelessly, “Give it to me, J,” you bite your lip in the desperation and that sends him over the edge, spilling hot ropes inside of you to feel so complete.

Moments pass, and you feel the twitching of his inevitable comedown.  You’re both breathless, fighting for oxygen as you see the side of his lip twitch in a charming smile.  “Don’t think you’re leaving.”  you swallow hard, pulling back to get a good look at him and you shake your head, laughing without the proper oxygen – head dizzy.

“Death of me, Professor Levy.”

“I don’t hear you complaining,” Jonathan hums, swiping his fingers over his tongue from where they once landed on your middle.

Your eyelids are heavy when you adjust yourself – still inside, to curl your legs into your lap, the side of you now nestled into his chest.

“Wouldn’t dare do such a thing,” you muse, lips painting over the side of his neck, the slightest of him spills from your entrance.

He pets your hair back, leaving you to a comfortable silence as he goes back to finishing his work, and it feels so good at this moment.  Perfect.

[minispidey]

Requests otw!

(Random gif idk)

Gluck gluck 3000

Steven Grant x reader

— sucking the poor guy off non-stop

Green Sleeves.

Jonathan Levy x f!reader

— you refuse to let him touch you unless he leaves his wife.

(Reminds me of Anne Boleyn tbh so the title is a reference 💅)

Dumbification.

Steven Grant x f!reader

— he finds out he has unbelievable stamina in bed, fucking you into oblivion 💅

[darkuselesssomebody]

𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟘 - dark!jonathan levy x fem!reader

complete masterlist | kinktober 2023 masterlist

kink || recording/blackmail

taglist || @silversprings-mp3

fandom || scenes from a marriage

a/n || sorry. i don't have much else to say <3.

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider

➵ i never watched scenes from a marriage but jonathan levy is so fit so if he's ooc excuse me

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd like to be added to the taglist

warnings || smut/dark (dddne)

➵ professor/student dynamic

➵ unprotected sex

➵ spanking

➵ blackmail, duh

➵ degradation (use of whore)

she knew it was stupid, and wrong.

she knew she had worked her ass off fr a full ride scholarship to this university, and she can't do anything to jeopardize that.

so of course, she had agreed to the lust-filled eyes of her professor - his wandering hands, his dirty mouth.

she'd let him grope her body, tear away at her leggings. she'd let him smack her ass, bite her neck. she'd let him cum in her mouth, and then inside her.

but she hadn't let him do that one thing.

she's in his office again today, and she was trying to cut the relationship off.

"we can't... do this anymore." she'd tried to argue, "you're just divorced, and you're my professor! you know how much trouble we could get into?"

he's not looking at her, hand over his mouth, a stern, contemplative look on his face. she bites her lip, as he spends more and more time not responding.

"can you say something?" she mumbles, and his chair finally turns to fully face her. he leans forward over his desk, hands clasped by his chin.

"no." his voice is cold, and she furrows a brow.

"what do you mean?"

"no. this-" he gestures between the two of them, "is not stopping." she blinks in confusion.

"you can't just-"

"i can, and i will." his voice isn't changing in inflection. it's not angry, it's commanding.

he needed the control. his whole life was spiraling out of control, and he wasn't letting his favorite student slip out of his fingers as well. a chill runs down her spine.

"i'm gonna... leave." she whispers, slowly getting up, and his eyes trail over her figure.

"sit back down." he orders, and she hesitates.

"n-no, i should-" he finally sighs solemnly.

"i didn't want to do this." he murmurs calmly, hand going to his phone to look through his gallery. he puts on a video, and doesn't even have to show her the contents - all she has to do is listen.

her moans are high-pitched and more needy than she remembers, and his own are gruff and controlled. he's calling her a whore - his whore - and she's preening at the name. her face flushes, cheeks warming as she listens.

she hadn't let him record the experience.

"what the fuck?" she whimpers, and he turns it off.

"insurance." he finally gets up, standing in front of her. she doesn't look at him, feeling her pulse quicken - not in excitement, or intrigue - but fear, and shock. he gently places his finger to her hot skin, and her breath hitches, "why would we stop when you need me so goddamn much?" he whispers, as though he was trying to be understanding. she shakes her head, feeling oncoming tears.

"no, i don't-"

"don't lie..." he says, so softly. he plays the role of the kind, patient professor perfectly, until he has her on her knees, "will you be my good girl now?" he murmurs, nosing at her earlobe, inhaling her scent deeply.

she shudders, cringing in disgust, but paradoxically feeling her core pulse in need. his grip tightens just slightly on her chin: he wants an answer.

"yes." she mumbles quietly, and he sighs in satisfaction. he presses a sweet kiss to her cheek, before grabbing at her scalp and pushing her to her knees, his other hand going down to undo his slacks. she gulps, staring up at his imposing figure, as he taps his now exposed cock on her lips.

"open up, sweetheart." he orders, and she slowly sticks her tongue out. she's upset she can't even fight back. what could she do? the sounds of her moans and his degradation in the video echo in her mind, as he fucks into her mouth, slowly, with his teeth gritted, "oh, yeah - fuck, yeah..." he moans, moving his hips a little faster. his hand has her hair bunched into a ponytail, moving her like a doll for him. because that's all she was. his whore.

he's getting closer, and he wants to cum inside her again. he pulls out of her mouth, helping her to her feet, before bending her over the desk and kicking open her legs. his hand runs over her ass, pulling down her tight jeans, and squeezing harshly at the flesh of her thighs. one hand pumps his cock, and the other explores her folds, flicking over her clit and making her jolt and whimper. she's trying not to moan - how cute, he thinks.

he delivers a small slap to her ass.

"moan, whore." he murmurs casually, as though he's asking about the weather. she bites her lip to moan, and he sighs, annoyance finally starting to show. he pulls her up such that her back was flush by his chest, holding her up by putting an arm around her tits. he wants to lave his tongue over her neck, leaving marks behind with his teeth. he wants her to struggle to explain them to her friends.

he adjusts to slip his cock inside her, and she finally moans loudly - high-pitched, shocked and pleasure-filled - and he smiles softly, letting her adjust.

he wasn't a monster, after all.

he pulls out till just his tip is still inside after letting her get used to him, before slamming back inside, wanting to hear her scream. she knows she can't - they're in his office for god's sake! - and she hand to bite down on her hand to muffle her noises. seeing it enrages him; he pulls her hand out of her mouth. he moves harder - thrusting harder inside her.

he needs her to moan, he needs to hear how good he makes her feel.

it works, and a flurry of moans and whimpers tumble out of her lips. she's gonna cum, and she's trying to stave it of, but it's not working.

"st-stop, i'm gonna-"

"cum?" he finishes her sentence for her, and bites her neck, grinning against her skin, "do it, whore." he murmurs, but he uses the word lovingly, this time. "cum for me."

she does it. for him, or not, it doesn't matter. she cums so hard, she's worried she'll pass out, and he groans into her hair as her walls clench around him, finishing not so long after, as well. he pulls out, admiring the view. she looks so pretty like this - this is what she should always look like.

he looks over at his phone, and she follows his gaze. it's recording - and she's shocked she'd not noticed it again. he pauses the recording, putting it in his pocket, and she looks at him in a strange mix of pleading, confusion, and horror. she swallows softly.

"why did you need another one?" she finally whispers, and he grins, eyes crinkling - a kind smile on his face.

"the last one was insurance. this one's entertainment."

[eyelessfaces]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

jonathan levy x reader

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤: bath/shower

warnings: age gap, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving)

word count: 0.5k

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

Dating someone older than you had its pros and cons. 

Cons were your family’s non required opinions about your relationship, the deafening silence after you had told your friends that your new boyfriend was in his forties when they had yet been so excited for you to tell them more about him.

The pros were getting to learn about life’s hardships more easily, since your boyfriend had already gone through them and saw the end of the tunnel, and could then guide you through it.

But most of all, the ultimate con was Jonathan’s experience with sex.

Jonathan had been a broken man that you had to fix and put the pieces back together, and though it could seem like a favor that cannot be repaid to others, Jonathan paid you back well. Really well.

Sure, he may not have the stamina the men your age have, multiple rounds sometimes weren’t an option for him, but he could work your orgasm with his mouth and fingers way faster than anyone you had ever slept with before.

So when he drops to his knees in the middle of taking a shower together to eat you out, your reasonable reaction should be to tell him to stop being stupid and to be careful about his knees, but it flies out the window the moment you start to think about how his tongue is going to feel.

You let him maneuver your leg over his shoulder, your hand resting against the shower wall, your back resting against the one behind you; the position isn't the most comfortable, but you know it won't necessarily last long.

Your head drops back with a loud thunk when you feel the first contact of his tongue against your folds, the pain of the impact on your head quickly vanishing when Jonathan starts licking at you and dizziness takes over your senses.

Where he was usually delicate and slow, there he was eager and vigorous, determined to watch you fall apart above him. 

His hand is gripping your thigh over his shoulder, kneading it so vigorously as he eats you out that you’re sure there’s going to be his handprint bruised there once he’s done.

His other hand is pumping two fingers inside you, so intensely that you can hear the embarrassing squelch of your juices over the sound of the water falling over Jonathan’s back.

And there you could feel all the experience he had; his movements so calculated and effective, all his movements so coordinated to make you feel overwhelmed by sensations, but the good kind of overwhelmed; his flattened tongue lapping at your folds and then his lips closing to suckle at your clit, his fingers thrusting and hitting the spongy spot inside of you, and the feeling of his prickly beard against the inside of your thighs burning in a pleasant way.

You don’t even have the time to tell him when your orgasm is about to hit, too drunk and overwhelmed by everything he’s offering you, and you have to brace yourself against the wall when your knees go weak and start shaking.

He stands up once you recover, pulling you into a kiss allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

“I’m not done with you” he declares as he scoops up a trail of shampoo falling over your forehead. “But we’ll do that in bed, my knees can’t handle that.”

—

as always please reblog and tell me your thoughts it helps a lot!!

scenes from a marriage taglist: @missmarmaladeth @anightshift @whatthefishh @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @jakecockley @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @stvnnie

+ @flightlessangelwings

[st4rymoon]

𝘒𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵

⭐︎ Jonathan Levy x Afab reader

Warnings: professor x student, piv, unprotected sex, pussy! Eating, language, pet names (baby, sweetheart, doll), sweet Jonathan, loud reader has to be kept quiet, slight overstim, tummy bulge, dumbification

"Shhh baby quiet, keep quiet for me" Jonathan whispered as he buried himself between your thighs, his soft lips and beard rubbing against you as he ravaged your soaked pussy.

You weren't one for cliches but when your professor ended his messy divorce, neither of you could hold back.

Your fingers were tangling into his hair, you tugged harshly as he went back to sucking your sensitive clit. You were in his office, holding yourself up by the elbows as your legs were draped over his shoulders.

“Love this pretty pussy baby, all puffy and wet for me.” He hummed as you shakily cried out. Jonathan chuckled as you ignored his words, your noises just as loud as he lapped at your soaked pussy.

He was starting to get impatient from your lack of compliance, causing him to pull away half way through eating you. You whined but before you could protest his hand slapped onto your mouth “I told you to be quiet, you gonna listen?” He purred.

You nodded in agony as you felt yourself getting even needier as you looked into his eyes. His hands snaked up your hips, planting themselves on your hips as he leaned down and kissed you.

You moaned at the taste of yourself while Jonathan smiled into your lips, his jeans failing to hide his cock bulging through as he rubbed himself onto you. Your fingers unbuttoned his jeans as he cupped your face to kiss you deeper.

Jonathan was always passionate while fucking you no matter where it was, it made you love him even more. You managed to get his jeans as low as you could before he did the rest of the work, completely dropping his jeans and boxers to his ankles.

“Remember, quiet” he purred as he held your legs open wide, his eyes watching your glistening folds drip onto his desk. Cock in hand he rubbed himself between your folds, mouth falling open at the feeling of your warm pussy coating him perfectly.

“Look at me” Jonathan cooed while holding your face up “Yeah, just like that” he smiled, the look of need in your face making a rush of nerves go straight to his cock.

His hips thrust into you harshly but before you could let out a peep his palm was covering your mouth, his lips near your ear whispering to stay quiet as if his thrusts weren’t causing the noise.

The room filled with loud slapping and the desk creaking as he pounded you into the desk, your hands dug into his shoulders as he had one hand on your mouth and the other wrapped around your thigh to keep you from squirming.

Your muffled whines and cries spill into his palm as he mutters sweet praises “Doing so good for me doll, always so fucking perfect” he choked out. Your body slumped back as you felt your legs start to tremble, his hard thrusts making your legs start to hurt as he angled himself higher.

Jonathan’s eyes glued into your lower tummy, the bulge of his cock showing every time he fucked into you was intoxicating to watch. He could feel how deep he was in you, he could see you felt it just as he did.

He was no longer covering your mouth but no noises came out of you, just low whines and squeals everyone once and a while. “Got you to quiet down, didn’t I? Always seems to work” he chuckled as both of his hands held your legs wide open.

His vigorous thrusts make you spasm as you felt him continuously hit the perfect spot inside you “j- jon-“ you weakly muttered as you clawed at his arms, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy as his fingers played with your swollen clit.

“That’s it beautiful, that’s it.” Your body trembles as you clench around his cock, the wet sound growing louder as he fucked your overstimulated pussy. “Shhh” he smiled as he leaned down to cover your loudening cries.

“Love yo- love you so much. Best thing that’s ever happened to m- me.“ Jonathan seethed out as he filled you to the brim, his loads spilling out of your worn out pussy as he fucked himself into you.

You shined at his words, your body limp on his desk as you stared hazily up at the ceiling “You ok sweetheart?” He hummed as he massaged your legs. You nodded weakly as he pulled you up softly “Good thing I moved my papers off the desk huh?” He chuckled as he glared down at the mess the both of you made.

You nodded with a soft smile on your face, the glow of sex plastered on your face.

Taglist - @tati-the-fangirl @mxtokko



[athenaderiva]

Not Afraid Anymore

Jonathan Levy x OFC

My first smut I’m posting! Jonathan taking Clary’s virginity. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word count - 1800 ish

It happened after two bottles of wine-mostly drunk by Clary. The soft buzz helped her feel more confident, one hand on Jonathan’s chest and the other on his thigh. Even just having his skin under her fingers was enough for her breathing to become uneven.

She stared up at Jonathan, wetting her lips with her tongue. She couldn’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he was, the dim light illuminating the grey streaks in his dark hair and beard. She sighed, tracing her fingers along Jonathan’s chest. He smiled down at her and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Do you want to go to bed?” He whispered and she sighed, turning her head to press kisses to his neck and collarbones. “Are you okay?” He asked, pulling her up slightly so she could look him in the eyes. “Honey?”

“I want you to fuck me.” He choked as he insulted, sputtering for breath for a moment before managing to collect himself.

“I thought you weren’t ready?” He mumbled, wrapping his fingers around her jaw. “I need you to be sure before we do anything. And you gotta know you can ask me to stop at anytime and I will.” He rushed out in a single breath, adjusting his glasses. Clary nodded, all but pouncing into his lips and smashing her lips to his. He groaned, the hand on her jaw snaking around to wrap into her hair as the other settled on her waist. No matter how many times they had kissed it felt like butterflies swarmed her stomach. His hand slipped under her t-shirt - one she had stolen from him - and his touch burned her skin, branding her with his fingerprints. He squeezed and her mouth fell open, inviting his tongue into her mouth. He stood up, wrapping his hands under her thighs to keep her attached to him, her hands wandering, tugging on his hair. Her kisses trailed from his mouth to his cheeks as he carried her up the stairs. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he squeezed her thighs and he wondered what it would feel like for them to drag down his back.

“Jonathan.” Clary whined as he got to his room after what felt like an eternity walking down the hallway. He chuckled, shutting the door with his foot and placing her gently on his golden sheets.

“Do you still want this?” His voice was thick with lust and Clary nodded, pulling her shirt off. His eyes widened at the sight of her, climbing onto the bed and hovering over her. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Fuck, I was crazy not to see that you were right there all this time.” He mumbled, and Clary was sure she wasn’t supposed to hear him. He placed his glasses on the bedside table before attaching his lips to her neck, determined to take his time with her. A moan fell from her lips and he swore it was the best find he ever heard. “We need to try to be quiet, sweetheart, okay?” He whispered against her skin and she moved, desperate for him to keep touching her. His hands finally came to cup her breasts, palming them through her bra before he tugged it out of the way, relishing in her quiet whimpers that came with every touch. She watched him through heavy eyes. His lips moved down, attaching to each piece of skin he brushed against. She reached for him, tugging at his shirt and he happily obliged. Her nails traced over his chest and stomach, like she was trying to memorise every inch of him. Clary tugged her lower lip into her mouth in a poor attempt to stay quiet as his lips attached to her nipple. Her fingers weaved into his hair, tugging and he groaned.

“Jonathan, please.” Clary had no idea what she was begging for. She just knew she needed more of him. He chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before sitting back on his heels and admiring the plethora of marks he’d left across her skin. “Jona-“ he cut her off quickly, placing his hand over her mouth. Her doe eyes burned into his and he flipped her skirt up. He licked his lips at the sight of her soaked through panties.

“You’re so fucking wet already, sweetheart. Is that all for me?” He asked, his voice lower than Clary had ever heard him and she nodded. He groaned, both hands coming to rest on her hips as he moved further down the bed and pressed his nose right against her core, inhaling. Just the smell of her made him feel like he could cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. She whined, her hips bucking against his face in a silent beg for him to just fucking touch her already. He chuckled, pulling her panties down as slowly as he had patience for before he dove in. He licked at her folds like he was trying to collect all of her slick, one hand moving to press his thumb against her clit. Her cunt clenched around nothing as he worked her up, alternating between long stripes and kitten licks. Clary could swear she saw stars, her thighs shaking around his head. She bit her lip hard to stay quiet, a metallic taste filling her mouth when he sucked her clit. Her hips arched off the bed, his laughter vibrating across her pussy and she slapped a hand over her mouth in time to stifle a moan. “That’s it honey, stay nice and quiet for me. Fuck, you’re so pretty.” His fingers replaced his tongue, two of them disappearing with ease. Clary could see her slick in his beard and she moaned into her hand, grinding down shamelessly against his fingers as a coil tightened inside her stomach. He leaned down in time to kiss her as she came on his fingers, swallowing her moans. The taste of her arousal on his tongue drove her feral, desperate for anything he would give her. Her blood in his mouth had a similar effect but he swallowed it down. “We can stop now, if you want, sweetheart.” He whispered, the smell of sweat and sex heavy in the air. Clary shook her head.

“I need you to fuck me, Jonathan.” She whimpered and he smiled, pressing one more kiss to her forehead.

“Turn over.” He murmured. She immediately did what she was told, managing to rest on her shaking legs so that her ass was in the air. She turned her head to the side, watching him as he tugged his jeans and boxers down. He almost moaned in relief as his cock sprang free, almost painfully hard. He licked his hand, wrapping it around his dick. He rubbed the tip against her cunt, spreading her wetness around him before pushing in slowly. Clary’s eyes widened at the stretch and she buried her face in the pillow to muffle herself. He leaned over her as he pushed in inch by inch, allowing her time to adjust to each new intrusion. “Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He hissed, biting her shoulder to muffle his groans. He stilled inside of her, waiting for her to let him know she was okay. It didn’t take long. She whimpered and pushed back against him. He grinned, kissing over the bite mark before he began to move his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in. Clary knew she’d never felt so full, her fingers and toys feeling nothing like this. She mewled at the feeling as he began to pick up the pace. She looked over her shoulder as he picked his body up. His curls were pointing in every direction and he was watching where their bodies connected with focus that she’d never seen. The burn that came with the stretch to accommodate him was one of the most delicious things she had ever felt. The tip of his dick brushed against something inside her and her eyes rolled back in her head as a loud moan fell from her lips. “Shh, shh, shh, there’s a good girl,” he murmured. Her cunt clenched around him at ‘good girl’ and he snarled, fucking into her harder and pushing her head into the pillows. She bit into the material as his death grip on her hips got tighter, her legs shaking and she was sure that if he wasn’t holding her up she would’ve collapsed. “I know you can cum again for me honey, just one more.” He mumbled, spreading her legs wider and fucking impossibly deeper into her. Each time her cunt spasmed around his cock, they both swore they must be in heaven. “Rub your clit for me,” he begged, his voice cracking and Clary moved to obey faster than she’d ever moved in her life. Her fingertips were too soft after feeling Jonathan’s rough, calloused pads. His hands left her hips. One wrapped into her hair, pulling her up till her body was flush to his. The other covered her mouth as she cried out, his beard scratching against her neck as he sucked on her pulse point. “Cum for me, sweetheart, please.” It was all too much and Clary could’ve sworn she blacked out as she came, squeezing Jonathan’s cock so tight he forgot how to breathe and his thrusts faltered. “Where do you - fuck - want me to cum?” He managed to stammer in between broken gasps.

“Don’t you dare pull out.” Clary mumbled and Jonathan growled, pushing their bodies down against the sheets as he came. She could feel him twitching inside her as he panted for breath, sweat dripping off both of them. He pressed gentle kisses against her skin, the taste of salt dancing on his tongue. He slowly pulled out, sitting back to watch as his spend leaked from her sore cunt. “Jonathan?” She whispered.

“I’m just getting a cloth for you, okay sweetheart? We gotta get clean.” He eased her to lie on her back, kissing her forehead before going to the bathroom. He ran a cloth under the hot tap, making sure the water was warm. Clary was still trying to even out her breathing when he returned, her legs still shaking occasionally as he cleaned her up and then himself. He tossed the cloth back to the bathroom, wrapping his arms around her. “You did so good. How do you feel?” He whispered against her forehead.

“Good. I feel good. I think I met God.” Clary mumbled, her eyes still hazy. “Why the fuck did I wait so long for this?” Jonathan chuckled, his chest reverberating against her.