#Jonathan (Scenes From a Marriage) x Reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spacecowboyhotch · 9 months

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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

#posting smut at 10 am is my RIGHT #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy x fem!reader #jonathan levy x f!reader #jonathan levy smut #jonathan levy fanfiction #scenes from a marriage #scenes from a marriage fanfiction #not sfw #arson writes randos

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xspiderxx · 1 year

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nsfw. miguel o'hara

Have you seen Scenes from marriage? Because I can't stop thinking about Miguel having the same dynamic with his ex girlfriend/wife. Like you ending things, having an ugly break up, screaming at each other, crying...

But at the end of the day, somehow, you always go back to each other.

“you look so gorgeous right now” Miguel moans into your ear, rocking his hips against yours “ah, sí” groans, biting your earlobe.

“fuck...” you whimper, pulling him deeper into you with your legs around him “I lov-” you bite your lips, not finishing the sentence, but you can feel Miguel's lips curving into a smirk against your neck.

You were supposed to just pickup some stuff you left at his apartment after your break up, so you're not sure how you ended up fucking desperately on the living room carpet.

Your walls squeeze around him as you reach your high. He grips your hips, keeping you still, and with a last thrust, a loud and deep moan escapes from his lips, filling you up with his hot semen.

“we're not doing this again” you sigh with him still inside you.

He nods, but both of you know that it's a lie.

#sorry but every time I see miguel I see oscar isaac #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #oscar isaac #jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #miguel o'hara headcanons #spiderman 2099 headcanons #headcanons

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melodygatesauthor · 7 months

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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

#scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy fanfiction #jonathan levy x you #jonathan levy fan fiction #jonathan levy smut #jonathan levy fic #scenes from a marriage fanfiction #john levy fanfiction #john levy fan fiction #john levy fiction #jonathan levy fiction

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exquisiteserotonin · 3 months

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Ternion

Word count: 3.3K

Pairing: Young Mr. Ben SNL(as a TA, Grad Assistant)xFemale ReaderxProfessor Jonathan Levy Scenes From a Marriage

Rating: E! For explicit (18+ only, MDNI)

Warnings: Threesome, Power Imbalance, Brat Taming, Oral Sex (F! Receiving), somewhat degrading actions

Summary: Your friend and fellow graduate assistant Ben asks you to come over to his place for help with another task that your overbearing advising professor, Jonathan Levy, has dumped on the both of you.

A/N: I don’t typically subscribe to the whole professor student thing, but this was begging to be written and I hope this means I am out of my funk and my damn season of writer’s block is over. I hope you enjoy and as always reblog, comment, engage! I would love to hear from you!

And to my sluts thank you as always for giving me your magic! @magpiepillsjunior @magpiepills @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen @arcanefox207 @for-a-longlongtime

Ternion

Ternion: a group of three, a triad; a section of a paper of book containing three double leaves or twelve pages

Your eyes were beginning to glaze over as you stared at your laptop screen. It was another long afternoon of compiling participant demographics and data from your advising professor’s study in your closet of an office. You closed your laptop a little harder than you should have as you began to pack up for the day. The parking lot behind your building was nearly empty, most students having left for the day. As you drove home, you had visions of cozying up on the couch with your blanket, drinking an adult beverage, and binge watching your favorite tv show.

You were only a few miles from your house, when the infotainment screen in your car flashed with a familiar contact: Ben, your office mate and fellow graduate assistant. Deliberation coursed through the pads of your fingertips and against your better judgment you answered.

“Hey Ben, what’s up?”

“Hey,” his voice echoed with a hesitancy, “Professor Levy asked me a for a favor and I—“

“Are you serious, Ben?” You groaned in exasperation. “This is such bullshit. ”

“I know, I know—I hate to ask but would you come over and help me out?”

Say no. Say no. Say no, your brain said on repeat. Desperation wafted from his hushed voice in a way that immediately unlocked your kindness. You just knew he was pouting, running his hands through his chocolate brown hair while somehow making his already big eyes even bigger, like glassy orbs of whiskey on ice: against your silent protests that he NOT be so easy to say yes to. But aside from that he was also the kind of colleague who’d help you out in a pinch…and too damn attractive for his own good. It certainly made having him as your office mate interesting and frustrating at times.

You gripped the steering wheel before announcing your decision.

“Well, I was legitimately on my way home,” you replied with a deliberately loud sigh. “But yeah, sure.”

It was a bitch move, you knew, but you needed your displeasure to be known. A small part of you felt bad about being so vocal with your frustration. It wasn’t Ben’s fault, but he needed to know the inconvenience of it all. You would not be at your professor’s beck and call. Especially on a goddamn Friday night.

“Just give me some time to head over,” you huffed and added, “I can’t be over there in a snap like Professor Levy would want.

“Hey now,” Ben spoke in a firm whisper that somehow still held a hint of kindness despite your bite, “don’t shoot the messenger.”

You turned the car around and headed to Ben’s house. You found parking on the street and walked up the stairs to the door of his small Brownstone. You pushed the doorbell and found yourself brushing your hands through your waves and cautiously smelling yourself.

Passable. You thought to yourself.

Then he answered the door, emerging in a snug navy blue v-neck and loose gray sweatpants slung low on his narrow hips. A hint of skin teased you between the hem of his shirt and the elastic of his pants. They held onto his hips for dear life with nothing but the insurance of a haphazardly tied drawstring. You nearly whimpered at the sight of him.

What a fucking tease. Get a hold yourself, woman.

You breezed through his door without a word, trying to quell your craving and channel it to the frustration you felt with your advising professor. This was his fault anyway.

“Um…hello to you, too,” he greeted.

Your hands were placed firmly on your hips when you turned back to face him. One of his brows was cocked at you, already waiting for another snarky response. You couldn’t help but pout back at him. He knew you too well.

“Just like him to not give you a weekend off,” you huffed.

“You don‘t even know what I‘m going to ask you,” his voice was low and sterner than you had ever heard before. “I‘m starting to think you like a little fight.“

The way his eyes bore into you was so deep, it was nearly a glare. He held his chin up in the slightest way, arrogant enough that it demanded your attention to his strong neck. It wasn’t long before you felt tiny sparks of electricity traveling over every inch of skin of your body. It didn’t help that he stood with his hips pushed forward in the most arrogant and un-Ben-like way.

“Wow, if only you could give a little bit of that attitude back to Professor Levy,” you said with some bite and unconstrained breathiness.

Conveying the facade of confidence was important. Especially in situations like this.

Ben stepped forward, his shirt and sweatpants clinging against his body in exactly the right way.

“You’re only proving me right,” he purred, now only inches from you.

Do not moan. Do not moan. Do not moan.

“Just give her what we know she needs, Ben,” you heard a polished voice command from the shadows of another room.

A different kind of heat crept over your face and neck after hearing the familiar voice.

What were the chances?

You looked towards the shadows to see Professor Levy swaggering towards you. He pushed forward a few steps, placing his hands in his trousers pockets before leaning against the wall to watch you. His eyes were low and piercing and he licked his lips that rested beneath his salt and pepper beard.

“Of course he’s here,” it came out as the repressed moan you were fighting against.

Professor Levy nodded towards Ben in acknowledgment of some kind of unspoken agreement. Faster than you could think or speak, Ben pulled your body tightly against his, grinding against you as he pressed his lips to yours in a hungry and greedy kiss.

You didn’t expect for Ben’s lips to feel as soft as they did. They were even softer when he parted yours with a firm lick of his tongue. The heat rose within you as his large hands wrapped around your waist, finding your skin beneath your shirt as he pressed your bodies even closer together. With every move he demanded you feel every twitch of his cock for you.

“W—wait!” You gasped, pushing him from you.

Your eyes moved from Ben to Professor Levy, a strange mix of unbridled desire and anxiousness stirring in the lowest part of your stomach. Ben’s thick fingers managed to keep a possessive grip on your hips that you didn’t brush away, despite the way your brain was spinning in want of answers.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You demanded of both of them.

The two men shared another knowing look that stoked the flame of your frustration. Professor Levy raised an eyebrow before removing his glasses and wiping them on a cloth he pulled from his shirt pocket. You couldn’t help but keep your eyes on him as he strutted towards you, his fingers weaving through the gunmetal ringlets of his hair. You rolled your eyes with disdain for his insufferable ways of working, but found yourself burning from your center with intrigue at what those fingers might be able to work on you.

“Always with the snark,” your professor directed the words towards Ben who responded with a shrug and a smirk.

“You will not talk about me like I’m not in the room,” you paused, turning to him and holding your eyes directly to his, “Jonathan.”

He one more large stride forward until he, too, was inches from you.

“I think you mean professor,” he commanded, continuing to advance on you until you backed into Ben.

A moan escaped you as Ben stood like a wall behind you. With your chest heaving up and down, Professor Levy brushed a strand of hair from your face with his long, lithe fingers. Yet they didn‘t stop there. The heat continued to rise from the three of you as the professor‘s hand journeyed down the curve of your body until they met Ben‘s at your hip. They shared a look of longing before turning that desire towards you. And in the strangest turn of events, the professor’s lips were on yours with his tongue paying adoration to your pouty lower lip.

Unable to contain the desire that trembled within, you let out a long, loud whimper as Professor Levy gently trapped your lower lip with his teeth. You already thought the feeling of Ben’s throbbing cock at your lower back was enough to drive you mad, but somehow you knew you were going to be pushed to your limit the moment Professor Levy took your hand to his pants until he pushed your palm to feel him twitch with desire for you.

The part of your brain that held your common sense screamed at you, demanding you not give him the satisfaction. But every other part of it, along with every part of your body, beckoned you to give in. The feeling of Ben’s massive hand moving to the front of your waist was followed by his thick fingers inching towards the front of your jeans. You couldn’t help but pant as you felt his hot breath brush the back of your neck.

“You can’t tell me that this isn’t better than the fight you put up,” Ben’s voice came to your ear in a low growl.

He wasn’t wrong. But ever true to yourself, you bit your lip and replied with a little extra spice, “I think that remains to be seen.”

Your words made Ben snap his hips forward against you with a gravelly moan. Within Professor Levy’s mahogany eyes you could see from his heavy-lidded stare the desire the two men held for each other while searching for their reason to include you.

Professor Levy lifted your chin with a push of two strong fingers, silently ordering you to look squarely into his bespectacled eyes before he spoke, “You definitely need to be taught a lesson.”

You found yourself following him to Ben’s large leather couch, with Ben close behind you, his fingers intertwined in yours. Professor Levy took his place first like a king warming his throne. He smirked as he taunted you by unbuttoning his shirt. He manipulated each button with skillful fingers until he slipped it off and let it fall to the living room floor. He spread his legs wide as he sat, smoothing his hands over the soft fabric of pants that covered his strong thighs.

Ben nibbled playfully at your neck and then your ear with desperate and needy breaths. His warm hands slowly slid beneath your shirt, moving upwards until he massaged your breasts with paws massive enough that they made them feel small. Before you could even think your shirt was gone followed by your bra.

Professor Levy beckoned you to him as he rubbed his thighs, “Come sit here…now.”

This time, you submitted without a fight, feeling the way your skin nearly melted into his as you let your back rest against his chest. His beard tickled the skin of your ear as he licked at the bottom of it. His supple fingertips reached under your arms until they found the altar of your nipples. You rolled back against him as he tortuously began to caress, flick, and pinch them even slower and more skillfully than he had with the buttons of his shirt.

“Ben,” your professor called to your colleague, friend…inevitable lover, “come here.”

You dragged your nails along the waist of his low slung sweatpants while he lifted his shirt over his head. You kept your fingers just above his waistband while he leaned over the couch towards you and your professor. It was mesmerizing to watch how these two beautiful men looked at each other with such intimacy and longing as you lay between them. Your professor took a hand from your nipples and brought it possessively to the back of Ben’s neck, pulling his face to his before licking his bottom lip and pressing onto his mouth for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“Fuck.”

There were no other words you had that could possibly convey the carnal state of desire you had fallen into. Hungrily, you pulled at the drawstrings of Ben’s sweatpants before reaching your hand to the waistband. In a lightning fast move, your professor pulled it away, squeezing your fingers between his.

“Tsk, tsk, not without my express permission,” Professor Levy scolded in a low, buttery whisper.

Slowly, Ben positioned himself at your legs, his hands caressing your waist until he began rubbing your professor’s thighs with you. Professor Levy grabbed Ben’s hand and squeezed it before lowering his eyes to him.

He spoke with unwavering confidence coating every word as he gave Ben a command that sent shivers spiraling outward from your wet center.

“Taste her.”

The wanton darkness that overcame Ben’s eyes and the smirk that curled the corner of his upper lip coaxed your heart and your pussy to throb even more than you anticipated. Your professor’s demand spurred Ben to pull off your jeans and underwear even faster than you could put any thoughts together. You sat naked between the two men in so many more ways than you’d imagined you ever would be. Through your dizzying thoughts, Ben placed a firm grip on your legs pressing them a part.

Any words you thought you could form in your head only came out in quick, pulsing gasps. An unbridled heat spread all over your body as you felt Ben’s broad fingers handle your outer lips until they began to line themselves up at your slit.

“Jonathan, she’s so fucking wet,” his voice was hushed and his breath was so hot against your pussy.

Professor Levy’s response came out in a guttural moan that met your body by way of hands continuing to work on your nipples. The theme of surprise continued as your professor and Ben played off one another in ways that only happened when two people knew each other beyond words. Ben’s nose pressed into your mound as he licked a slow, deep stripe up your center.

“Oh my god,” You cried, finding your professor’s hand with a desperate grasp as Ben began working on your pussy with slow, luxurious and hungry swirls until he moved into a varied and unexpected pace that had you shaking, writhing, and bucking against his every move. Each time his tongue worked on you, he pushed you to the very edge of ecstasy over and over and over again.

He moved his worship to your clit and pressed his face and tongue deeper into you, eliciting a cry from you that filled the room, “Jesus, Ben, fuck oh my—Professor!!”

You pressed one hand through Ben’s waves and gripped Professor Levy’s thigh while riding your high.

“Ben, tell me what she tastes like.”

He lifted his face from your center, lips and chin dripping with your spend.

“Like heaven.”

Ben looked up at you, his eyes glassy with passion and also shining with the gleam of a man hungry for more. The sight of him caused you to whimper. You had never studied his face this way before even though you shared a small space together almost daily. The broad bridge of his nose sloped downward and he breathed you in with a playful smirk before adorning your outer lips with a delicate kiss. You thread your fingers through the disheveled locks of his hair, smiling back at him until your lips opened once more as he teased you with more caresses of his fingers.

“He’s good isn’t he?” Professor Levy growled into your ear.

Your brain was spinning, your body shaking in anticipation of what was to come next. Professor Levy reached an arm over your body, maneuvering his hand towards your neck and without missing a beat, Ben pressed his mouth onto you again sucking at your lips before he dipped his tongue into you again. He continued to venerate every fold with abandon, moaning with each taste he had of you like it were the best meal he’d ever had. You didn’t think it could get any better, especially with the pressure of your professor’s hand at your neck matching the intensity of each manipulation of Ben’s tongue.

And then…

One…two of his broad fingers reached into you, curling into your tight wet pussy while his tongue paid particular devotion to your clit.

“Ah, oh my god, fuck!” You came crying, writhing, and losing any more words the tighter your professor’s grip became.

Ben’s voice vibrated against you with a low, carnal laugh as you felt the slick sensation spill from your center onto the leather beneath you. He then pressed his hands lightly at your lower belly, causing you to shudder with even more aftershocks from your orgasm. You worked through catching your breath and looked down at him. The face he greeted you with as you caressed his wavy locks was that of a bold and satisfied man who knew he could do that to you again.

Ben rose up from the floor and leaned forward until his face was close to yours. You relaxed and leaned your head back against your professor’s as he eased his hold at your neck. In an unexpected moment of tenderness, Professor Levy threaded his fingers between yours.

Ben’s eyes shined as he looked toward you and then your professor. The simultaneously tender and sensual intimacy they shared was amplified in this quiet moment. It felt so private that you were almost embarrassed by having witnessed it.

“Wanna have a taste?” Ben asked as he pressed his thumb still damp from you to Professor Levy’s bottom lip.

Your professor took it, sucking at the tip savoring the taste of you on Ben’s skin. Heavy-lidded with lust, Professor Levy let go of Ben’s thumb and then licked his lips.

“Mmm, sweet,” he murmured with a seductive and low rumble coming from the back of his throat.

Ben stood up and lifted his chin with a proud smirk. He walked to what you assumed was his bedroom and then turned around to lean against the doorway. The way he leaned his elbow above him and his other hand resting at his hip demanded you pay attention to his defined torso. The waistband of his sweatpants sat so low that your eyes had no choice but to travel down the peppering of brown hair that led to the thick treasure you were becoming so desperate for.

A light squeeze of your thighs by your professor was your signal to stand. He walked around you and used his eyes to study every curve of your body. A light touch of his fingers beneath your chin had you breathing hard again as his gaze now demanded that you give him your own. The breath from his mouth danced upon your lips. Yet instead of taking you in for a kiss, he turned from you with his hands in his pockets. You stood naked before both men watching you, waiting for you, bodies reaching for you from a doorway to a room and to a deed that you could never really come back from.

And the decision was clear. There was no way in hell you could turn back now.

You stepped forward. The old, hardwood floors creaked beneath your feet.

“Wait,” Professor Levy called out.

You closed your eyes with a sharp intake of breath and you stopped as he had demanded. Your breath quivered as you waited for what they had in store for you.

He shared another look with Ben, his eyes lowering and the brown of them becoming devilish and dark.

“Get on your knees and crawl.”

#juice collective #friends of the juice collective #pedro pascal character fanfiction #oscar isaac character fanfiction #mr. ben x reader #mr. ben snl #pedro pascal fandom #jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #smut writing

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female-hysterics · 29 days

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RIIIGHT?? 🥵🥴😩👌👌

(I immediately thought of this gif)

GIF by spacecowboyhotch

Just....that look when he finally is able to fuck the object of his fantasies, watching your every movement and memorizing every shift of emotions playing on your face, all while wrecking you completely.

He would be absolutely insatiable for you once he finally is able to fuck you. It’s like a dam has broken and he can’t get enough. He constantly wants you on his dick, or his mouth between your legs, and you are overwhelmed by his hunger for you. He would twist you in all sorts of positions, indulging in all of his fantasies, and it wouldn’t be surprising if he took pictures or videos of him pleasuring you. Close ups on your face twisted with pleasure as he fucks you deep and hard, zooming in on his thick cock splitting you open, and then recording your pussy covered in his come and leaking out of you. Which he dutifully pushes it back inside where it belongs.

#Jonathan Levy #scenes from a marriage #scenes from a marriage 2021 #jonathan levy x reader #Jonathan Levy headcanons #Oscar Isaac x Reader #oscar isaac headcanons #the void answers

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moonxknightx · 2 years

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Oscar Isaac, the love of our lives

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #jonathan levy x reader #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight #marvel moon knight #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader

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sweetly-yours-and-mine · 11 months

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Summary: Sipping from the other's drink

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x Reader

Warnings: author makes certain claims about academia that may or may not be true and are entirely biased because of her own experience with it (and a huge thanks to @pennyserenade for reading this over for me)

Word Count: 2.3k

Jonathan’s brought you to a summer mixer at the Department Head’s family home, designed to maintain connections through the faculty during the slow months of the summer as well as create new ones with the incoming graduate students to the department.

A newly-minted associate professor for the fall term, Jonathan at least doesn’t have to worry about students of his own.

Really, he’s only here for the drinks.

Academics’ pockets, though they don’t usually run deep, are quite generous when it comes to their alcohol, perhaps a sort of defence mechanism when it comes to dealing with the stress of their way of life.

Everyone, however, seems to be at ease. It’s a late afternoon sort of function in order to encourage them to drink as much as they would like without feeling guilty about it, and loosened from the heavy burden of tweeds and thick wools, the faculty are clad instead in linen, cool and airy.

Tongues are loose, smiles are quick to be given. People have forgotten the relentless competition they’re usually in when it comes to funding, to office space, to good class slots.

All in all, he thinks that today has been a good day to introduce you to the people he’s going to passive aggressively work with for the rest of his life.

He gazes across the room and finds the blue of your shirt, sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of neutrals and whites. You’re talking to one of the faculty spouses, nodding your head and laughing. There’s a glass of pink lemonade in your hands, your hair falls around you as if you’re holding a secret within your chest.

Jonathan yearns for you to be by your side again, to smell the perfume he bought for your six-month anniversary, the one you always spray into the crook of your neck because that’s always where he likes to press his face whenever he’s deep in thought.

As if on cue, the conversation dies down and you drift back to his side.

He marvels at how easily you’ve managed to fit yourself into this new crowd, how you laugh as the department fart tells you some lame joke that he’s probably told millions of others before you. You brush it off with grace and ease, I’ll talk to you soon, alright?

It had taken him almost five years before he’d mastered that skill. The gentle brush off that made the other feel like you were doing them a favour.

He loves you, that much he knows for sure.

After the storm cloud of Mira and the past twenty years of his life had passed, he’d met you. As simple as that, as if the universe was only waiting for him before they let him hold onto the rest of his life like a delicate crystal glass.

“Hi,” you come up close to him and Jonathan can smell your perfume and the strawberries on your breath. He wonders if he’ll be able to taste your drink if he kisses you long enough.

He also wonders, as an addendum, how quickly he would lose his position if he did that. Despite all the shouting the university did about being progressive and open-minded, the tenured faculty members were still dreadfully hard-headed, old-fashioned.

Jonathan supposes that he was too. Maybe he still is, simply by nature of his daily proximity to him on the same floor of the social sciences building, crumbling at the seams since the last of its renovations in the seventies.

“Hi,” he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in close to him. There’s a glass of whiskey in his other hand that he doesn’t care much for anymore now that you’re here. He kisses the side of your head, brushes away some of your hair from your temple, “Enjoying yourself?”

You giggle, it rings out like a fairybell. You lean up close to him and murmur in his ear, “You work with some very strange people.”

He can’t help but laugh at that, turning his head to meet your sparkling eyes. “Yeah, I suppose I do.”

“Very strange,” you muse again, looking out across the room. “And I thought you were the strange one.”

That hits him in a funny way he wasn’t planning on it doing. He remembers once in high school his cross country running coach said she’d stepped, wearing thick-soled hiking shoes, on a pebble the wrong way and ended up having to go to physio for six months.

He supposes he feels a little like that pulled muscle.

He hums, tries to push down the blow you’d struck at him without realising it.

“Strange?”

“Mmhm,” your fingers drift around his waist and rest on top of his tummy, the one Ava had pointed out the other day in passing. “Strange, yeah. You got the whole, mysterious, hot, brooding professor thing going for you.”

“And that’s strange to you?”

You shrug. Jonathan feels the heat of your gaze against his face and he doesn’t feel like turning to meet it. Instead, he favours the sharp burn of whiskey. He ended up with a glass in his hand because some snot-nose had offered to pour him a drink and he’d been too much of a pushover and too concerned about what other people thought of him to say he preferred a red wine.

You’re never like that.

You were never like him; either because that’s who you were at your core, or because you’d manage to escape the way academia chipped away at one’s soul, until there was an empty, arthritis-ridden husk of a person by the time they reached tenure.

Opposites did attract, he supposes.

You were different from him. You weren’t afraid to drink the pink lemonade that had been left out for the few kids running around in the back garden, you weren’t afraid to call him weird if that’s what you thought of him.

Jonathan wonders why it took you so long to say it to him.

He’s about to try and pry the answer out of you when someone else approaches the two of you together. A newly-tenured professor whom Jonathan never really did get along with, particularly when he was working his post-doctorate and the guy had picked up an obnoxious habit of hanging around the kitchen coffee-maker and smacking his gum as loud as he could.

There couldn’t have been anyone worse that could have showed up at the time.

“Jonathan!”

Something inside him curls into himself at the thought, and as if you could feel it, your arm wraps around him a little tighter.

The man’s trying to make some small talk, the bare bones of it before he surely starts to boast of himself and his students and the latest hotshot fund he got because of his new tenure.

“Hi,” you smile at him sweetly and make a green little sprout of something bad shoot up inside his stomach, a bitter taste lingering at the back of his throat. You introduce yourself as Jonathan’s partner and are just about to move to go away when he speaks up again, cutting you short.

“I liked Mina more, Levy,” he grins and shows off his teeth like a predator. Against the off-white of his linen suit, they look even whiter, standing out like a sign against his tanned skin. “Shame you two had to end it the way you did.”

Jonathan tries to remind himself that he doesn’t know how things ended with Mira. That it’s just another poke at him and his life to get a rise out of him.

You smile at the guy again, there’s a sharper edge to it. His prickly rose. “Well, if you’ll excuse us.”

Then you’re guiding him away from the stuffy room and towards a bench against the side of the house. There’s a full view of the backyard, the sloping apple tree and whispering aspens all around, the toddlers playing tag in shrill shrieks.

He sits down with a low exhale, you follow beside him, slouching and shucking off your shoes. “Christ,” you mutter under your breath.

It’s probably the most genuine thing he’s heard all afternoon and he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You deal with that everyday?” It sounds like you’re pitying him. He wonders if that’s ever what Mira thought of him whenever he took her to these events. If she ever raised her eyebrows in surprise at each precise way you had to deal with everyone in the department.

He swallows back his thoughts and nods, “More or less.”

“Jonathan,” you shift and face him again. Still, he can’t bear to look at you anymore. Strange and Mira have started to float around his head like a crib mobile. “I…and you…” the rest of your words are lost to your breath as you turn around again, swearing quietly before reaching for his drink and taking a sip.

He likes how your lips were on the same place where his was.

The alcohol burns your throat and you grimace at him, “I didn’t know you liked whiskey.”

“I don’t.”

“Huh,” you seemed to have heard something stitched and laced into his words that he hadn’t noticed he’d put there in the first place.

You weren’t much of a drinker. Yet another thing that Jonathan noticed when he started dating you. At New Years’ you had some champagne, small sips whenever you clinked glasses with the people around you before you’d pass your flute onto him to finish.

Now that he thinks about it, that may have been your first sip of whiskey ever.

Quite early on, once he’d taken you out on your fifth date and it was shaping out to be something serious like a marble statue carving, Jonathan had cracked open his ribs and showed you the bleeding insides of him.

You’d taken some steps together quickly, probably too quickly if it meant that he doesn’t know now if you’ve ever had spirits before.

That had been another thing he’d noticed when he’d started dating again, seriously and for real this time. Twenty years with a person leads to a tremendous collection of trivial information that he’s not sure he’ll ever fully be rid of again.

It was strange to sit across from someone at dinner and not know how they took their coffee, what side of the bed they liked to sleep on, what order they unloaded the dishwasher and if they had a dishwasher anyways because the renting market is growing out of control.

“Did you like it?” he asks suddenly, hoping to catch onto a trivial fact of yours, like collecting baseball cards or butterflies with a net.

“Hm? Oh,” you look down at the whiskey glass and shake your head, handing it back to him. “Not really my thing.”

Something still nags at him. Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here. You’re the only sober one out of all the guests. Even the host himself is growing rosy and red. It didn’t really look good to see that all your partner’s coworkers were borderline alcoholics, that they dealt with a tremendous amount of repressed trauma and stress and didn’t seek any help for it because of the size of their egos.

Right then and there he vows to do better for you. He throws the rest of his drink out onto the garden, sets the glass down on the wooden bench with a heavy thud of well made crystal.

“Do you really think me strange?” he asks you suddenly. Finally, after a long while, he meets your eye.

“I…well,” you shrug and take in a slow breath. “Yeah, in certain ways. I think I do.”

“I see.”

Your words imbed themselves into his skin like shrapnel.

“But…I don’t have a PhD, I can’t really…” you let out a breath and look out at the garden and the children playing. “Besides, I haven’t been divorced…I haven’t been in your shoes.”

“I trust your opinion of me.”

“It’s not that I think you’re strange necessarily,” you gesture back to the house and the rattle of chatter that keeps growing louder with each drink getting poured. “I…this is all very new to me. And I’m trying to understand what it’s like for you.”

Jonathan starts to smile, “And how’s that going?”

“Not very well,” you laugh and run your thumb against the rim of your glass. “I just drank whiskey for the first time.”

He starts to laugh as well, and wrapping his arm around you, he pulls you into the side of his body. His other hand comes and takes your lemonade from your hands, sipping from it as well.

It tastes like his childhood and hot summer evenings spent with his mother and his aunt, listening to gossip he shouldn’t have been listening to as their nimble fingers worked away with their knitting needles.

“Do you wanna go home now?”

“You still need to show face,” you muse quietly, tracing the outer seam of his pants with your finger. “They’re probably already starting to wonder where you’ve gone off to, and it’s going to hurt their frail little egos.”

He barks out a laugh, and kisses the crown of your head, “God, I love you.”

“I do too,” he hears the smile in your voice and it goes straight into his chest, wraps a couple pieces of his heart together and puts them back into place. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll entertain myself.”

Jonathan kisses you this time, properly, the way he wanted to. Your fingers run through his beard and trace his jawline all the way around his ears and back down.

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here. Summer Drabbles here.

#jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy x you #jonathan levy x y/n #jonathan levy x female!reader #jonathan levy fluff #jonathan levy angst #jonathan levy fanfiction #jonathan levy fanfic #jonathan levy fic #jonathan levy x f!reader #jonathan levy imagine #scenes from a marriage fanfiction #scenes from a marriage #scenes from a marriage imagine #scenes from a marriage fic #oscar isaac

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oscarisaacsspit · 1 year

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he put his whole dilfussy into this

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blue-sadie · 5 months

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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"

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x reader smut #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac characters smut #oscar isaac characters x reader #oscar isaac characters x reader smut #scenes from a marriage #scenes from a marriage x reader #scenes from a marriage x reader smut #scenes from a marriage smut #jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy x reader smut #jonathan levy smut

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boredzillenial · 5 months

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Laurent Leclaire

Sweet Relief

Laurent finds you during a difficult time of the month, he wants to help you feel better.

Jonathan Levy

A Simple Arrangement

Jonathan wakes you in the night to meet his needs with your agreement

King John

Exhibitionism

🎃 King John upholds his scandalous reputation and takes what he wants.

Jack Jackson

Dirty Talk & More

🎃 You come home to find a stranger by your pool.

Orestes

Bathhouse

🎃 Orestes follows you to the bathhouse and admits how intriguing you are to him.

My Dove

📨 Orestes trying to woo his bride

Basil Stitt

Anonymous Sex

🎃 You take a risk and try anonymous sex, but the man you meet is a little… off…

Pizza Delivery

📨 Orestes hears of a Saint that may span the hostility between him and his new bride.

Richard Muñoz

Vouyerism

🎃 Richard knew better than this, but he just can’t help himself.

Nathan Bateman

Data

Your boss Nathan needs your body “for science”

Poe Dameron

Sir’s Suprise

📨 Poe is off on a mission but has just the thing to fill his pet’s needs

Anselm Vogelweide

Delisssious

Your boss is texting you inappropriately “during a meeting” (blurb)

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god-complex-12 · 1 year

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Elysian Feelings

— Paring; Jonathan Levy x male reader. Fandom; Scenes From a Marriage

Quote; “Well, they say the way to someone’s heart is through the stomach.” “You reached the heart before even getting close to the stomach.”

Description; Jonathan has a fat crush on his neighbor. He sees his neighbor baking and next thing he knows, he’s sharing brownies and his feelings. Disclaimer; Fluff. Confession. Teasing. Reader is shirtless. Jonathan kind of (not in a creepy way) watches the reader from a window.

Word Count: 1.3k

Scenes From a Marriage Masterlist, Oscar Isaac Masterlist

A/N: Wow, I said I had writer's block, now I’m posting two fics in one day.

Jonathan walked into his kitchen, searching for a quick snack. It was around 9 at night and he had just put Ava to bed. Jonathan was in a white T-shirt with pajama pants. He flicked on the light in his kitchen and pushed his glasses up with the back of his hand. Jonathan looked around and grabbed a banana. He placed it on a cutting board and grabbed a knife. He cut it in half — the peeling still on.

Jonathan grabbed the half he wanted and peeled it, throwing the peel in the trash. He took a bite of it and went back to the knife and put it in the sink. The bearded man glanced out the window for a split second. He had to do a double take. His and his neighbor’s kitchen windows were parallel to each other. He lifted one of the blinds and peered out — curious because he saw his neighbor’s light on.

There his neighbor stood. He was shirtless, but in a black apron that hugged his muscular waist nicely. He chewed slowly as he took in the sight. After Mira left, and this guy moved in, he started to become almost overbearingly infatuated with the man. The sight of Y/N shirtless baking wasn’t new to him. He found that Y/N baked a lot, especially shirtless.

Jonathan shrugged and continued to eat his banana. He began cleaning up the kitchen in the process. When he finished that half of the banana, he began washing the dishes. Occasionally he would let his impulsive thoughts win and glance up at his hot neighbor. He thought of what Y/N was baking and couldn’t help but feel the urge to want to try it. He glanced up again and was a little confused when he saw Y/N was gone.

Jonathan stopped washing the dishes, his hands sinking into the soapy water as he leaned in more, trying to figure out where he went. After a few seconds of looking, he heard a knock at his door. He leaned back and glanced in the direction.

“Be right there!” He called out to the person. He panicked a bit at the sudden visitor. He tried to shake his hands dry, and then wiped them on a towel. He then began walking to the front door. He opened it and his eyes widened.

There stood his neighbor with a plate full of saran wrapped brownies. Y/N smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, to bother you. I baked some brownies and I can’t really eat them all, and I know you have a daughter, so I thought I’d give you guys a treat.”

Jonathan’s eyes trailed down to the brownies and to Y/N’s body. He still had an apron on, but he was also still shirtless. Jonathan felt his ears heat up and he tensed up. He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked up at Y/N. “Uh, wow. That’s- uh, that’s really sweet of you.” He smiled, trying to cover up how flustered he was.

Jonathan stepped to the side to let Y/N walk in. Y/N thanked him and entered the home. He looked around and smiled. “Very nice place.” He complimented.

Jonathan gave a polite nod. “Thank you.” He led Y/N to the kitchen.

Y/N placed the baked goods on the counter and smiled at Jonathan. Jonathan returned it, feeling a bit nervous. “They look amazing.” He praised.

“Do you want one? I made them for you and your daughter so you are welcome to them.” He gestured to the plate.

Jonathan nodded and grabbed one. His hand shook slightly, the sight and thought of Y/N was a little overwhelming at the moment. He watched Y/N grab one too. Y/N raised it up a bit like a cheer and Jonathan returned the action. Jonathan held eye contact as he took a bite. His eyes widened as he bit into the thin layer and into the gooey insides. He let out a small moan — which caused his face to heat up in embarrassment.

Y/N chuckled and covered his mouth. “That good, huh?”

Jonathan chuckled along with him. “These are the best brownies I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad.”

For a moment, they share a silence. They stare at each other, there’s something hiding behind their gaze that neither of them are willing to admit. Y/N didn’t know what he was feeling until this moment. Up until now, all he knew was that his neighbor was clouding his thoughts and that he wanted any excuse to talk to him — that’s why he brought him brownies. The realization hit him in the moment. His eyes widened a fraction as he realized that what he was feeling wasn’t just some hyper-fixation, it was a crush.

Jonathan was the first to break the moment, he looked away with an awkward cough. Y/N looked to the side. He felt his heart quicken and his breath grow a little heavy. His eyes searched around the kitchen for a distraction. It landed on the half cut still peeled banana.

He remembered something his mother taught him in that moment and used it to diffuse the awkwardness. “You know, banana peels are really good for roses.” He looked back at Jonathan.

“Really?” He asked, he couldn’t care less though, his mind was hazed over with a feeling of an unsatisfied want.

“Yeah, the potassium is really good. You could preserve the peel in water and apply it to the roses.”

“I never believed bananas actually had potassium. Potassium is a very reactive element, especially to water.” He said with a shrug, grateful for the distraction from the moment they just shared.

“Bananas decay, so it makes the potassium less reactive.” He said, gripping the counter edge he was leaning on.

Jonathan chuckled. “So you're a nerd and a chef?” He teased with a smirk.

Y/N chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I guess so.” He muttered. Their eyes met again with that same gaze with the unspoken intent. After a second, Y/N spoke up. “I guess it’s kind of weird for your neighbor to come to your house at night shirtless with a plate of brownies.” He joked.

“No, not at all!” Jonathan said with a laugh. “I’m grateful actually.”

“The brownies or me?” Y/N said teasingly. He then caught himself and got a little embarrassed. He looked down and shuffled a bit “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He awkwardly chuckled. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Jonathan smiled, he couldn’t help but find it all more endearing. “No, it’s fine.” He assured him with a sweet smile. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“As a neighbor or..” Y/N trailed off as he waited for an answer.

Jonathan felt a rush of confidence surge through his body. He caved into his impulsive thoughts like he did before. “To love you.” He said, boldly.

Y/N was sent into utter shock. His eyes remained the same though. He didn’t look shocked, but he was. He fell completely silent as he stared at Jonathan. His heart racing and his mouth agape. He could feel his heart pound aggressively in his chest, begging him to say something. “Well, they say the way to someone’s heart is through the stomach.” He said quietly as his face turned red.

“You reached the heart before even getting close to the stomach.”

#NORMAN’S; writing #god complex 12 #x reader #x y/n #x you #x male reader #jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #Jonathan levy x y/n #Jonathan levy x you #Jonathan levy x male reader #scenes from a marriage #scenes from a marriage Jonathan levy #Jonathan levy scenes from a marriage #Oscar Isaac #oscar issac characters

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 2 years

Text

Epilogue

“Everything good must come to an end.”

- Geoffrey Chaucer.

Jonathan levy x reader smut.

Word count: 6k

Viewers beware you’re in for a scare with: Depression level angst, heavy sexual themes, smut, breeding kink, power exchange, age gap, daddy kink, a little hint of dd/lg, abuse of power, explicit language and themes, rough smut, sex in public, nudes, very graphic detail of sex, talk of punishment, dirty talk, jealousy, over protectiveness, spanking, overstim, choking, biting, bruising, fingering, rough blow jobs.

A/n: y’all dirty animals wanted a part two, so eat up. Might I say I didn’t hold anything back, plz beware of the warnings. Sorry for taking forever to write this I just wanted it to be a masterpiece. The second part to this: lovers exchange.

Jonathan’s hair stood on his skin, as the sun's glow of the early morning shone through his curtains. Bars of gold hit his bare chest. His long body contorted on his sofa. The chatter of hollow television continued to chime. He moves his forearm away from his eyes. Groggily blinking his dull eyes open. The beige ceiling and instant brightness blind him. He winced to himself before sitting up, putting his elbows on his knees, and running his hands over his face. He groans, smoothing out his hair. He sighs, slipping his glasses back on. His eyes adjust in a quick second. He only had approximately three hours of sleep before he passed out ultimately. His brain never fully rested running with rampant images of you. Before he can register it he’s running up his stairs, two at a time. To his bedroom and bathing. A short brisk shower and basic hygiene are kept in pristine condition. He stills. The wet splat of droplets crusading down his body made dark circles on the tile. He pauses giving his reflection a minute. Dismal rings are around his eyes, almost looking black from sleep deprivation.

He thanks the world that he’s going to get coffee with you. Almost having a mental breakdown about what clothes he should wear, he has a breakthrough. Remembering what you’ve said about his cardigans and khakis. He blushes. It really feels like a fever dream, he’s an imposter of himself. Pausing by the floor-length mirror Mira had purchased. Pivoting to see himself from all angles. White shirt, mousey wool coat, with dark brown pants. He stylishly rolled up the ends twice, he should change his emerald green socks. He thinks it compliments his beige tones and his gray shoes. Scratching his neck he sighs. Looking at his watch to find the hour to be nine. He swears. Even if he’s going to be early, he wants to be comfortable before you arrive. He’s rehearsed everything he was going to say to you. Reciting over in his mind in a tandem. His aged body doesn’t move as fast as it used to as he hobbled down his stairs. Grabbing his keys out of the dish along with his satchel off the rack. Locking the door on his way out, he jogs out of the house that he hated and starts his car. Knuckles white at the right grip around the steering wheel, he ponders a story he once read that’s eerily reminiscent of his life. Lolita, is slightly less illegal.

_______

He parks by the side of the building, not in the lot. People billow out of stores into another on the busy street of the city. Completely engrossed by the people, it’s strange. How strangers are programmed to detach themselves from others, to not intrude on bystanders out of their circle. Enlightened to know that you stumbled onto his messy circle. Poking holes into the plastic bag around his head so he can breathe. Walking down the street by the greyhound bus, he wonders if you’re on it. His heart flutters thinking of you being so close. He wraps his chilly hands around the strap of his bag, keeping him anchored.

Keeping his head buried to his chest as he pushes open the glass doors of the cafe. There’s a few other people all from different backgrounds scattered around. Sat drinking and conversing. A couple is fondling one another in a corner. It makes him burn up with embarrassment for walking in on it. He dashes into the industrial loft, to a booth seated by the enormous window. Shrugging off his satchel, he takes off his coat too. He puts the thick fabric over his bag. He folds his hands neatly on his lap. A soft folk song pours from the speakers, he pushes his glasses up. People watching is his new favorite hobby. They’re younger than him, hipsters who laugh at obnoxious jokes. Who overindulge in pda. For some reason Jonathan feels like he doesn’t belong. The stereotypical mundane things people do are normal. He doesn’t feel normal, not in any way. This was such a stupid idea. It was just a story. Fiction.

Contemplating for a while, he plays with his fingers absolutely lost in his thoughts. He pulls his jacket off his bag, reaching in to retrieve his current read. It’s worn and faded, one of his favorites. Knowing he can recite it front to back without question. The Scarlet Letter. He just can’t get over the taboo, the utter mourning of tragedy. Opening the abraded book to the number he mesmerized. Reading through a third of the book, he realizes its ten past the original meeting time. Having to wave off the poor server twice since he first came. What if he was a fool? What if you didn’t want to meet with an old creep who has an agenda? He bounces his leg, knee brushing the underside of the table with each jump. Closing the book over his finger to hold his spot, he does the thing he does best and overcompensates. Now Jonathan is a grown man, and he’s not upset, but his ego is bruised. He breathes heavily as he gets worked up. He considers leaving.

Before he does, he hears the bell chime as the door opens. Head popping up to find the visitor to be a disgruntled you. Messy absolutely wild hair. Your backpack strewn carelessly on your shoulders. One hand you hold a strap to keep it on, the other you hold your phone with white earbuds connected. He’s shocked to find your shoes on the right feet. His heart stops and time freezes, as it does he wonders how fast he can sprint to the bathroom. Your head whips around finding him pale face and wide eyed. A bright, stunning smile spreads across your face. Tangled hair bobbing as you walk, you wave at him; he returns the greeting with a meek smile. As you settle down into your seat across from him. He smiles at your perfume and he’s whipped by the scent. It’s youthful like spring, nothing like Mira’s dry smelling daffodils. Shrugging off your bag, you pluck the buds from your ears. Pausing your music. You’re sweating and breathing like you ran a marathon.

“Hi.”

He smiles wider, eyes crinkling.

“Hello.”

You sit straighter, smoothing out your lilac damp shirt. Wondering if that’s your perfume he’s smelling or if your body’s essence smells just that good.

“Missed the bus. Had to run. Sorry I was late.”

So you weren’t on the bus. Each pause that you took you huffed. Gasping to breathe. He shoves his book back into his bag, his physical spot lost. Mentally he’s at page 100. His attention is fully onto you.

“It’s alright, are you okay?”

Your eyes bulge out of your head, jumping at his question. For you to have run so far, you’re full of energy, youth.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m just not used to extracurriculars such as track.”

He chuckles, smart too. Extracurriculars. He’ll be thinking about that one for a while. Curtly nodding at your response.

“Well, I’m happy you made it.”

You beam up at him, eyes gleaming and big. You reach over across the table to squeeze his forearm. His mouth is almost dropping at your affection.

“Thanks for inviting me!”

He pushes a hand to his hair when you remove your delicate touch. He scratches lightly at his scalp, then brushes his curls away from his face. Your eyes catch onto the cover of his book. Quirking your head to the side you read the title aloud.

“The Scarlet Letter?”

You furrow your brows in confusion along with curiosity. He jumps at your question, feeling like a kid red-handed. He hides it, when you look at him.

“What’s it about?”

His mouth falls agape, trying to find a string of comprehensive thoughts. He desperately searches for an answer that doesn’t make him sound like a freak.

“Forbidden love.”

_______

Jonathan is full of hapless serotonin. He’s found a new subject for his people watching. Adoring watching you, to examine the things you do subconsciously. Be a simple witness to admire your beauty. How you cover your mouth when you eat, place a napkin onto your lap. Such diner etiquette learned at such a young age has his blood rushing. He sips on his black coffee, hating the brew. It’s much different from his own. Much more acidic than the one he makes. He wonders if you’ll like the organic kind he drinks. He’s slightly frightened by your order, at least half a container of sugar is dumped into the cup. More of a carbonated energy drink he enjoys the mixture of elegance and chaos you exude. You chew your muffin with stuffed cheeks.

“What music do you listen to?”

He most likely didn’t know the artist, but was still interested. Anything you listened to would easily be his most listened to after the conversation ended. You ball your hand into a fist, to hide your mouth as you chew.

“Lana.”

You grumble, almost scared to admit it. His pants get tight with the flow of blood to his cock. His stomach churns painfully. He’s heard of her, the infamous philosophy she’s developed for young women. It’s a phenomenon to him, but it suits you. The femme fatale.

“Del Rey?”

He mumbles, giving him a brief nod. You smile as much as you can with a full mouth.

“Surprised you know her.”

He knows of her; he doesn’t know a single thing about her. He doesn’t listen to a lot of music; he doesn’t have social media. He just never really got it. There’s seven- no, he read an article where there’s eight billion people in the world right now. Already gets nervous about the people he walks by on the street and around the ones in his close circle. He’s happy to be unknown and be a hermit. So knowing Lana was a win. Smiling softly in agreement to your claim.

“One of my students did a thesis for impressionable young women for them to stay wary of what media they digest. They wrote about Mrs. Rey. Albeit grotesque, I like the Cola song.”

You gulp down much of your muffin. You snort, laughing to yourself how strange it was to hear.

“What? I like the song, what’s so wrong about that?”

He laughs with you, a charming big smile on his face.

“You can like it however much you want. But that will forever be comical.”

You point an accusatory his way, waggling it. Dropping it when the laughter dies down to a small smile. It’s quiet for a few minutes, peaceful even, warm. Not the awkward quiet, the one where the silence is mutually understood and welcomed. He licks his lips, tasting the harsh grain on the sensitive skin.

“I was amused by reading your commission.”

He nearly chokes on his tongue, seeing your eyes widen.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

It is less bubbly than your normal chime, more serious. It’s an interesting contrast. He runs his forefinger over the ring of his cup, collecting the substance then bringing it to his mouth.

“Like I said in the email I sent. I’d like to discuss your afflatus. I’m more than interested in knowing where it sourced from.”

He’s intrigued how your eyes glow when you’re acknowledged.

“Have you ever had a dream that felt real?”

He nods slowly, almost hesitantly curious where this was going.

“It was kinda like that for me. Except each time I would walk through this door into this room.”

You pause, eyes taking over his top half. He’s wearing a silver chain that dips under the collar. You weren’t sure how but it made his already alluring neck more appealing.

“I was just completely captivated by this person and well, I wrote about my dreams.”

You shrug nonchalantly, his stomach flips. You tiptoed about just saying outright it was about him. A dirty brief fantasy you had about your mentor. He wondered if every time he taught and glanced at you. Your Bambi eyes gawking at him, you were thinking of such things. He drinks from the cold cup, the liquid almost gone.

“It’s admirable how much you retain from these

dreams.”

He waves a hand in the air like he does when he’s teaching.

“How vivid you made these,”

He clears his throat, noticing your prying eyes at the muscles in his arms contracting. His eyes close halfway, staring you down from the bridge of his nose.

“Encounters.”

You beam brightly at his praise.

“I-, thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

You sheepishly say with your head tucked downwards. Oh, so now you’re shy? He tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth.

“I wanted to introduce you to this program that the college is starting. It’s an apprenticeship to become an insightful tutor to other students.”

He bites down harshly on his bottom lip, tugging at the flesh.

“It’s an extracurricular, I think you’d do well in it since you said you didn’t partake in any others.”

You can’t refuse his offer, he put your own words against you.

“I completely understand if that’s something you do not wish to do. However, I think you’re the most suitable candidate.”

Your stomach bursts from excitement. Unlimited hours with someone you’re completely infatuated with? It’s so mind-boggling that you’re becoming dizzy.

“Is there an application form I have to sign?”

He smiles wide, happy to know that you’re more than willing to be his apprentice.

“Not really, no. But, there is a sheet that I need to give you.”

He turns to run a hand through his bag trying to find the papers. He comes up dry. Shit. He left them at home; he cursed himself for leaving in such a haste. Face falling before an idea pops into his head. He grabs a napkin and a pen from his bag scribbling down his number and giving it to you.

“Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten the papers. Please, if you have any questions or concerns, contact me.”

He smiles warmly, as you nod, staring at the numbers briefly before pocketing them.

“Will do.”

_______

He almost lost his mind when you offered to pay. After a great conversation with you and a farewell. He’s practically in the clouds. It��s the Evening now, mostly spending the day chatting with you. It didn’t feel like hours to him, just a casual meeting with an old friend. A very attractive friend. As he drives home, he listens to Lana. Thinking of all the pretty smiles and suggestive glances you gave him. God what fuel for his eager brain. He hums to the tune as he pulls into his street; he notices a familiar car parked in the middle of where he parks Mira.

He almost has a heart attack as he pulls in. She wasn’t supposed to be here for another week. He sighs, grabbing his bag and keys. Trudging up the steps and opening the door. He’s met with literally the scariest thing ever, Mira making dinner with his kid perched up on a stool. Mira will go through later, but he wraps his jacket and satchel on the hook. He kisses the small child on her head.

“Hey sweetie.”

She mutters a small squeak of ‘hi dad’ and gives him a small hug. Mira turns, hair put up messily as she pours boiling water into the sink. He’s told her over and over that using a strainer is very useful but she continues to do it her way. He crouches, pinching Ava’s small cheeks. Tilting his head, sorrow fills him. She’s grown so much since the last time he’s seen her. It’s just the cost of separation, it’s okay though, it’s supposed to be his weekend.

“Glad to see you’ve joined us.”

Mira sneers, not looking up from the mess she’s making.

“Was busy.”

She whips her head to him, eyes fiery and body rigid. He doesn’t even know why she’s pissed at him but he’s used to it. He just plops into the chair next to the kid who’s grabbing at his fingers.

“Oh yeah, where were you?”

He wants to lie; it wasn’t her business, anyway. Maybe therefore he couldn’t do it anymore. This fighting every night, the difference and insecurity. He breathes in, fixing to do the ten things you hear and feel, before he freaks the fuck out.

“I don’t know Mira I was..just out?”

She laughs a bitter laugh like the gross coffee that’s making his stomach hurt.

“You just avoided the question. Where were you Jon?”

He hated the demeaning way she used his name. Biting on his tongue, pressing his head to the stool.

“I went out to the coffee shop for a meeting.”

She pauses for a second before she goes back to cleaning up the pasta and ravioli she just made, knowing that he doesn’t like the processed shit. She turns, hands on hips.

“Oh. And with who?”

He chokes, he wants to smash his head on the table. Think of a name. Any name that’s on the board.

“L/n.”

Christ’s sake.

“Huh, that’s funny I don’t remember a L/n being on council.”

She sneers.

“She’s new.”

Mira makes a mental note of her, she shakes her head walking to the table. Handing the kid her bowl and setting one out for Jonathan and herself. She chews slowly.

“I didn't sign them.”

Jonathan makes an airplane to land in the kid’s mouth. Cupping under to catch whatever falls. His eyebrows pinch together.

“What?”

Mira stares at the food she eats.

“I didn’t sign the papers you served me.”

Jonathan’s jaw ticks. The bones locking up. Fury rages beneath his skin.

“What?”

He asks again in disbelief. She’s the one who wanted to get separated. She’s the one who cheated on him with Poli. He laughs brutally.

“Are you joking? Please tell me you are?”

She scoffs, offended.

“Why would you think I’d be joking about this?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Of course you want to push this on me. Make me a single mom with no support.”

She says it as a fact as if it wasn’t the farthest from it. She’d have a more than sustainable life with Poli and he wasn’t making her do anything. He sighs, getting riled up.

“Whatever, I just-“

He stops shrugging and shaking his head.

“I don’t know anymore.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He clinks the small spoon into the dish and he reaches into his pocket. Confused who might summon him. His eyes bulge out of his head. He wonders if it’s a spam message, one of those things where if you respond they take your identity. A nude lady with an absolute jaw dropping figure dressed in lavender lingerie. Posing in a scandalous contortion. His cock instantly hardens on his thigh. Your face relaxed with eyes looking up and tongue rolled out. Hand tucked into those skimpy panties. His heart pounds against his chest. He quickly pushes the rectangle to his chest. Eyes wild to find his daughter playing in the pasta. Why- who- what- he can’t even think right. In the bottom text is just filth:

“Touching myself to you, daddy.”

“Who is that?”

Mira asks and Jonathan’s up and out.

“Excuse me.”

He rushes up the stairs and into his bathroom Quickly pacing around hands in his hair. He texts back:

“Wrong number.”

Three little dots appear and disappear as anticipation builds. He sighs falling back on his bed with a heave. He thinks that the worst part is that he’ll jerk off to that picture later.

_______

The first day of your new hobby has come. You wear a button up blouse that’s yellow, along with some loose pants and sneakers. Brushing your hair and teeth, spraying something that smelled like flowers. You grab your phone, plugging in your earphones. Reading a text from an unknown number:

“Wrong number.”

Your eyebrows pinch as you unlock your phone. The picture you sent to who you thought was the friendly boy from class ended up being..not who you thought it was. Yet it was your former professor you forgot to put a contact for. You blush profusely, sitting down on your bed. Trying to ground yourself, you have a headache. How could you make such a mistake? Now it made sense why your sneaky link didn’t text back. You groan, rubbing your temples. Horrible turned to worse. As the alarm rang telling you need to leave to make it on time. You wonder if you should stay or not. To just wallow in the suffering of embarrassment of perpetual grief. That your one shot with your handsome more antiquated counterpart was ruined. To think of it all was because you sent him proof you masturbated to him.

_______

Jonathan trudges through the enormous doors, with his home brewed coffee sipping from the mug. He strides into the vacant auditorium, shocked to actually find you sitting on a stool next to his chair. Nose shoved into a book and listening to music. He smiles to himself walking to the desk and taking his things off. He likes the yellow; it suits you well. The lilac was too mature for you. You look up at him, taking a bud out.

“Morning.”

He whispers. You nod your head, putting the bud back in and returning to the book. Cold as ice, it has him frostbit. He sits in his swivel chair with a plop. Rubbing his temples trying to not encourage the head splitting headache that’s growing. He can already tell today is going to be interesting. It’s noon when his first class comes in. You mostly had done nothing, just proofread over assignments and emails, redoing poor grammar and punctuation errors. He stands pointing to something on the board which had an image projected on it. He’s babbling about something, rolling up the sleeves of his gray sweater that hugs him a little tighter than usual. Strong arms being shown has your pussy clenching. Soft tingles bursting in your stomach. You’re supposed to keep your distance; he probably thinks you’re a freak. You bow your head smiling to yourself. He reaches up to grab the screen that’s rolled up at the top of the chalkboard. As he reaches his sweater pulls up showing the curve of his pelvis. The hair flowing from his abdomen down below his pants open to the public. Your breath catches and your eyes dart away. He walks over to his desk, sitting back down next to you. You can feel his heat radiating off him buzzing over to you.

“Turn the lights off.”

He whispers in your ear, and you jolt up.

“What?”

“The lights. Turn them off.”

You nod, pivoting and switching them off. Darkness spreads throughout the large room. The gigantic mass of students almost filled every seat. That’s usually how it is when a new semester begins. Young excited individuals, soon to find the crushing weight to toll. The light chatter dies as the film plays. He obviously made them read the book beforehand, had an excruciating test over it in order to watch and behold in all its glory. Some old French romance that’s a revolutionary development in art and culture. You watch the movie on his computer.

It’s almost a private screening, reserved for two. There’s great unspoken tension between the two of you. He knows and you know the tragic consequences of what happened. However, if the both of you wanted to forget then why not just stop thinking about it? Both of you are corrupted entirely by the other. Jonathan crosses his arms, bouncing his leg. He tilts his head to the side.

“Glad you came.”

He licks his lips.

“The movie is pretty tedious, actually.”

You smirk.

“Oh, really?”

He nods as you continue a hushed conversation.

“Yeah, the only striking thing is that she murders him in the end.”

You let out a shocked gasp, softly hitting him in the arm.

“Spoilers!”

He looks at you like you’re crazy. Making you smile. It was too hard to resist the intoxicating feeling you get off him. The taboo is exciting, but the banter is better.

“How could it be spoilers? I specifically assigned this to be read by last week?!”

He scolds. He leans back, fake shock written on his face.

“I’m floored that you didn’t read it.”

You scrunch your nose, pointing a finger at him.

“It’s not that I didn’t read it.”

You pause, shrugging.

“I just didn’t read all of it.”

He clicks his tongue on the back of his teeth shaking his head, gray curls following.

“Poor excuse.”

You smile leaning back into your chair, watching the movie with him. You notice how he spreads his legs wider, scooting a tad bit closer to you. Mira isn’t here, he reminds himself. It’s better to ask for forgiveness than for permission. He watches the black and white woman dance along the train tracks resembling lost in hope. He bites his lip leaning down again.

“You look ravishing in lavender.”

You bury your face in your chest.

“Thank you.”

He nods.

“I like the little gems on the panties.”

Your mouth closes tight. He uncrosses his arms. One shoves into his pocket, the other lightly tracing the wrinkles in your pants. Your eyes dart from the screen to the students. It’s impossible to make them out in the dark.

“They can’t see, I’ll be shocked if any of them are awake.”

You think for a second before the uneasiness fades.

“Okay.”

You whisper, and he takes it. His hand is slotting on the inside of your thigh. Gradually rubbing up and down, stroking you. Each stroke has him growing. His pinky rubs your clothed slit. The friction makes you grind your hips into his palm.

“Patience little girl. We still have an hour and a half left.”

You groan, biting your lips almost until it draws blood. He runs his forefinger, pushing in he can feel you soaking through the fabric. He does it slowly, like he does when thinking and runs it around the mouth of coffee. Clit to hole, up and down. Your head hurts as you get lost in his hand.

“Touch me.”

He smirks, casting a look over the crowd. He puts his fingers over the tops of your pants and the bottom of your blouse. His nose digs into the side of your cheek from how close he is. His lips brushed the bone.

“What makes you think that you're good enough to think about me when you're touching yourself?

He tugs your pants open. He runs his tongue over his lips, teeth glinting. Your breath catches in your throat, heart pumping fast from the reference of the photo. He was right you weren’t getting off a fellow peer but to the man who smells like heaven.

“Hm?”

He questions softly. He tilts his head to the side, examining you. He pushes the top of his index in.

“Going to teach you some morals, won't I?”

He smirks as he takes his hand back out.

“Sending suggestive pictures to older men is wrong,”

His breath fans over your neck. It’s quiet before he speaks again.

“Isn’t it?”

His thumb soothes below your belly button.

“Yes.”

You whisper almost as soft as the snore of an unconscious student. His hand sinks down from your stomach to your pubic bone. He scratches the hair, making your skin crawl. His fingers dip and he’s instantly damp with your slick.

“Should tell me what’s going on in that filthy mind of yours.”

He growls in your ear, his voice magnified by his proximity. He moves his finger back and forth on the ball of nerves. Your hips jutting up to his arm. Your hand scratches his thigh, squeezing tight. He pushes down, hand fully in your pants and Uber your panties. Constricting him to be close. He pushes his finger into you, feeling you coat him more.

“Go on.”

He thrusts his finger deeper.

“Tell me.”

You can’t think when his fingers are in you, his thumb rolling your clit.

“Want you to fuck me.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Where?”

He pushes another one beside the other.

Your grip tightening.

“Anywhere, on the desk. Front of everyone I don’t care.”

He smiles, swallowing.

“Dirty girl. Wanting me to give everyone a show.”

He tears through your core, making you mewl.

“Is your little boyfriend here?”

You freeze, eyes popping open. You look at him like you’ve seen a ghost. It’s one thing that he’s seen it, another that he knows who it’s actually for. He licks his lips, tongue pulling in his bottom lip. His eyes were unwavering. You nod briefly and he sneers.

“It's funny that you thought he could have you. Have you want him as much as you want me.”

Jonathan’s not entirely sure why he’s spewing this shit maybe it's jealousy. But he’s making you keen.

“Have to fuck an old man in order to get off. How sad.”

His fingers fasten, and he’s curling them. Your toes curl in your shoes, eyes rolling back as your thighs shake. A hot wave crashes over, and suddenly your thighs are sticky and wet. You lay your head on his shoulder, sleepily. He pulls his hand out of your pants. Zipping them backup for you. Letting you sit in the puddle you made yourself. He sucks his fingers clean before wiping them off on his thigh. As he watches the film, he crosses his arms. He presses a gentle kiss to your hairline.

“Stay after lunch and I’ll fuck you.”

He laughs quietly

“If you can keep up, sweetheart.”

_______

Twenty something walk out of the class. Some stretching with a yawn, others asking Jonathan questions. As you sit there flustered and uncomfortable. Hoping they won’t figure something out. The last student walks out. Jonathan types something into his computer. It’s quiet and filled with tension. You wonder if he’s actually going to fulfill his promise. He looks at you.

“Get on your knees.”

You take out your ear buds and put them along with your phone into the bag. You push yourself off the chair and onto your knees crawling between his spread legs. Your hands come to steady yourself. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your jaw.

“Gotta do a few more things.”

His hand leaves to unbuckle his pants.

“In the meantime, keep your mouth warm for me.”

He unzips and takes himself out of his pants. The ruddy head is a pretty dark red. Thick veins running up his shaft. He works himself over a few times. He taps the crown on your lips and you lift on your knees to lick him into your mouth. He groans but quickly returns to his work typing away something. You make it your goal for him to not concentrate. You flatten your tongue. Shoving your face down to the coarse hairs at the base. One hand grabs your hair to hold your face down. He thrusts shallowly. You gag and sputter and he lets you breathe. You lick the tip as you huff. Beads of ivory roll down his shaft. You lick them up and the veins pulse in response. You take him fully into your mouth once more. Dipping them comes back up with a wet slurp. He’s thrusting up. His lips part, he takes his glasses off. Throwing his head back he just lets you swallow him then come up. He’s close as his legs shut and pulls you off him.

“So good at everything. Especially that fucking mouth of yours.”

He pulls you up making you walk to the board, hands flat on the wall. Ass perched as he kicks your feet out. Thirty minutes he reminds himself, before the next class comes. He holds his pants up with one hand. He gropes your body with his other. Squeezing your hips, your stomach and chest. His hand stays at your lower stomach. You know what he’s thinking; he wants to make his. Make you have his kid. He wonders if Mira would be pissed. He doesn’t care.

“Try not to scream.”

He grabs your jaw, tilting your head to kiss you. His tongue instantly pushes through your mouth. Scooping out each inch. You whine, jerking your hips back. His hand drops from your jaw. To pull your pants down around your ankles. He squeezes your hip. Grinding his cock into the crevice of your ass. His girth spreads open your cheeks. Weighing heavy on your dry hole, but he dampens the slit with his own set cum. He bites your shoulder. Pawing at your hips. A hand falls to hold himself to run over your folds. The head, easily slickened. He slides in. Not waiting for you to adjust to surge his hips forward. A loud moan hit through you. His hand wraps around your throat, constricting your breath. Not allowing you to breathe. Head going fuzzy and vision blackening. Your mouth hangs open. He pulls you to his chest once your arms give out. His elbow hits your shoulder as he thrusts. His balls brushing your thighs. His little huffs heat the shell of your ear. It makes your core clench to know he’s there. Fucking you, touching you, needing you as much as you do.

“I should be mad about you teasing me.”

He bites your ear and the rumble of a moan as your walls flutter.

“But how can I be mad when you give me what I want?”

His hips undulate, the roughest smacking is heard through the bare walls similar to the applause of an encore. He likes the yellow reminding him of the rising sun he watches before driving here. The strange ecstatic feeling he got when he thought of you. He’s wrinkling your shirt as he fucks you. You can even hear him, too unfocused to even. The burn of his beard on your shoulder is the only thing that kept you anchored. Once your lungs burn with fire and your body shakes. You claw at his forearm begging for him to release. Each pound of his hips into your ass is another red streak down his arm. His hips are still deep inside you. You feel the warmth implore your womb. He releases and instantly you're leaking down your thighs. Exploding with your own orgasm. Your eyes roll back in your head. He holds your hips to his. Kissing your hairline as you come crashing down. He pulls his pants up and buckles them. Helping you dress yourself on unsteady legs. In all honesty you couldn’t even walk. As you limp to sit uncomfortably back on your seat, he crouched down. Slotting on his glasses, his eyes dark embers. There’s something strangely exotic, addicting to fucking someone who’s a teacher, someone older who can teach you what you want. His hand rests on your knee as he rubs his thumb back and forth there. He smiles after studying you. Kissing your hand softly. That fatherly instinct kicking in, the caring adoring one that takes over his whole being to care.

It’s attractive the tone of the greedy man replaced by a teddy bear. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing your forehead.

“It’s better than fiction.”

#jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #oscar issac x reader #oscar issac hernandez estrada #jonathan levy x reader smut #oscar isaac x reader smut #fanfiction #smut #oscar isaac smut

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melodygatesauthor · 11 months

Text

Jonathan Levy - Random Horny Thot #1 - The Girl in the Front Row

NSFW

He'd spent night after night jerking off to your videos online. He watched you, pretty legs spread wide with a vibrator plunged deep in your wet little pussy. He'd fantasized about feeling your walls contracting around his girth, squeezing his cock while you cum over and over again. He knew he could do better than that silly piece of plastic, he knew he could do better for you.

When the new semester starts, and he looks up to see his new class, he nearly drops the coffee mug in his hand. There you are, sitting with your eyes down staring at your notebook and writing your notes. Jonathan gulps, mouth slack open and breathing heavily. Is he having an asthma attack? No...no he's okay...

Professor Levy knows he has to have you, and when all the other students leave, he tells you to stay behind. When you look at him with those big, curious eyes he feels his arousal building instantly. You're so pretty, and his cock aches with a need to be buried deep inside of you. He takes off his glasses and puts them on his desk.

He says your stage name, the one only fans of your work would know about, and then watches the panic wash over your face. You start stammering, unable to get out a coherent thought, and he can see it in your expression so he stands, putting a caring hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, you don't have to worry honey, I'm not going to tell anyone," he trails his hand up the side of your neck and he brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"Professor I-"

"Sh," he puts a finger on your lips, "you've given me so much, let me return the favor hm?"

Within seconds he's got you bent over his desk, door locked, cock buried to the hilt in your warm little cunt. He shudders feeling it grabbing onto him like it doesn't want to let go. He rubs the globes of your ass with both hands, grabbing them and spreading your cheeks so he can watch.

"Oh god, look at you. Thought about this a lot but-oh-fuck-never thought I'd actually feel you sweetheart. So tight..."

You're like putty in his hands, whining and moaning over the desk, holding on so hard your knuckles ache. He grabs your waist, gripping roughly, leaving divots in your skin.

His slow rolling motions get more uneven as he gets closer to losing himself. It's wrong, fucking a student, especially one two decades younger than he is, but he can't help himself, and you feel so fucking good.

In fact, you feel so good that he's embarrassed at how quickly he's spilling his hot seed inside of you, filling you so full you're making a mess of his classroom floor. He's not going to let you go unsatisfied though, not a fucking chance.

He doesn't even care that he's going to have to wash his own cum out of his beard before his next lecture, he's on his knees behind you, lapping at your hungry clit with fervor. You're gasping, breathing heavily while he slurps and eats everything out of you.

He makes good on his promise, giving you one of the same mind-numbing orgasms that you'd given him time and time again with your films in the privacy of his home office. You were such a mess when he was finished that your makeup was running down your face and your stockings were ruined.

"Keep this up honey," he leans in, beard brushing against your ear, "and I'm sure you'll do just fine in my class."

Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!

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strsburn · 2 years

Text

every little thing | jonathan levy (18+)

pairing - jonathan levy x fem reader

synopsis - in which hearts are mended

see also - when two broken people meet and find that their sharp edges connect

warnings - this fic will contain sexual content at one point so

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ CONTENT

notes - i am in love with oscar isaac your honor. i watched scenes from a marriage and honestly i think mira was very toxic and manipulative and honestly if jonathan was given a proper chance to heal and move on, i feel like his character would have developed more. that being said, i am ignoring how episode five ended and writing this x

tagging ( my favs ) @wint3r-h3art @tmholland @buckybleu @tom-whore-dleston @crazycookiecrumbles

@giona45-5

"This isn't working anymore." Your fork clattered as your hand went limp from shock, the sound that would normally cause you to wince fading to the back burner of your mind as you stared at your boyfriend in shock.

"W-what do you mean?" You cursed yourself mentally as the last word came out in a choked whisper, your emotions rising to the surface. Dean sighed, chewing on a pasta noodle thoughtfully as he waved his fork around nonchalantly.

"Look, it was fun in the beginning. You know, going out, holding hands, yada-yada, but," he paused to put his fork down, a hand coming to rest on his abdomen as he leaned back to shrug at you carelessly "You're too boring, alright. You don't like to go to parties, you like to stay in and read, you never want to try anything new in bed, honestly, how long did you think this could go on for?"

You can only stare, your cheeks flushing with humiliation as all your insecurities are laid out before you. Dean sighs at your silence, standing up as he pushes his chair in and folds his used napkin over his plate. He comes over to your side and lays a kiss on your cheek, and suddenly what once felt like a show of affection was now a branded mark of condescension.

"Dinner was good babe, no hard feelings right? Don't worry about my stuff, Josh will come to pick it up next week. Alright, later." In the blink of an eye, he's gone and you're left in silence, your shared apartment suddenly feeling too big.

๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

The breeze is a welcome sensation on your heated skin as you relax on the park bench.

It's been two weeks since your cruel and abrupt breakup and you were still reeling from the grief of it all, opting for more time spent at the park to escape the haunting reality.

You looked up as your heard shuffling footsteps, your eyes stopping on a little girl no older than nine who was wondering around without a care in the world.

You waited to see if an adult would come along who was accompanying her but when she remained alone and unsupervised you grew concerned. A park was the perfect place for a kid to be snatched up and you would not be one to turn a blind eye.

Smoothing down your skirt, you stood from the bench and approached slowly not wanting to scare the girl or be seen as a threat.

"Hello." You greeted her. She paused to see who addressed her before offering a bright grin that sent your heart melting.

"Hi." She giggled. You looked around once more to see if anyone had come searching for their daughter before you spoke once again.

"What are you doing out here by yourself kiddo? Where's your mom or dad?" At your question her shoulders seemed to sag slightly as she sighed.

"Well, my mom isn't here but my dad is. I was supposed to stay in his sight but he had to take a phone call real quick, I waited until his back was turned to explore and now I'm lost."

You had to bite back a laugh as she made hand motions with her explanation her lips set in a dramatic pout.

"Alright, well, maybe you can tell me what your dad looks like and we can try and find him okay?" You asked.

She squinted her eyes in thought as she looked at you with playful suspicious.

"My dad said I shouldn't talk to strangers." She retorted. You nodded in understanding, even as you thought it was a false cause considering she had already given you more information than a simple name would do.

You gave her your name before holding a hand out as she shook it firmly.

"My name is Ava." She quickly began to give you a rough description of her dad. Tall, wearing glasses, curly hair and an itchy beard. Very vague but enough to work with.

You held her hand as you both searched for the man who matched the description. As you moved along you suddenly heard faint shouting as a panicked voice echoed in the shrubs.

"Ava! God, where are you?! Ava!"

Ava perked up at her name and you turned around as who you perceived to be her dad came running up. You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep your jaw from dropping as the single most handsome man you had ever seen stepped into view.

Dark curls decorated with hints of grey lay atop his head, his chin sporting a matching thick beard, equally dark brown eyes framed by gold wired glasses and an outfit of corduroy pants and a button up seemed to polish off the english professor look.

Relief coated his features as he spotted Ava, her hand letting go of yours as she ran to meet him with a hug. You watched in silence as he held her close, pulling back as worried frown replaced his relieved smile.

"You know better than to take off like that Ava, god something could have happened to you." He pulled her back into a hug as she murmured apologies.

It was then he seemed to notice you as he quickly stood up, taking his daughter's hand.

"Thank you for keeping her safe." He smiled, his whole face lighting up with the gesture. You could easily see where his daughter had gotten the smile.

"It was no worries at all, I was happy to help." You nodded as he offered a hand.

"I'm Jonathan, Jonathan Levy. Can I buy you a cup of a coffee as a thank you?" He reached for his pocket as if looking for his wallet and you waved your hands out, abashed.

"No that's okay! That's not necessary." You told him.

He smirked then, rubbing a hand over his beard as he adjusted his glasses and you felt butterflies flit around your stomach nervously.

"Alright well, then can I buy you a coffee just to see you again?"

You were a goner.

⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

Your first date went great, Jonathan and you seemed to click just like that and while you were admittedly worried that he was married due to the presence of his daughter he was swift to assure you that he had been divorced for a while now.

He proceeded to open up about his failed marriage and even discussed a time in his life where he had grown so callous with his relationships that he had married again out of necessity rather than desire when a one night stand resulted in a pregnancy. He admitted that through this time he had openly cheated on his wife with his ex, nonchalant about if he was caught or not.

While his honesty was appreciated you were hesitant about starting a relationship due to his previous relationships and the failure of your own, and you divulged that.

Jonathan understood your worries and the two of you discussed a trial run, where you two would start off with small dates to see where things led off and most importantly that you both would be open to communication about anything and everything.

Which led to now.

"Are you serious? He actually said that?" Jonathan asked in disbelief, eyebrows raising so high they disappeared into his curls.

You nodded as you sipped your chai latte, the taste earning a pleased hum as you took another sip before placing the cup down.

"Yup, I was so shocked I just sat there as he proceeded to thank me for the dinner and hightail it out of there." You shook your head.

You and Jonathan had been discussing your traumatic past relationships and how they went down and instead of causing the mood to sour it helped strengthen the bond between you two as you both understood what it meant to move on from those painful events.

"That's such a fucking shitty move." Jonathan chuckled as he took a sip of his black coffee. He proceeded to adjust his glasses and you had to bite back a smile which he noticed.

"What?" He laughed nervously not knowing if you were poking fun at him.

"Nothing, I just laugh when you do that. It's cute." You told him, motioning to how he adjusted his glasses.

His eyebrows furrowed and you were worried that you'd somehow made him subconscious or upset but he looked up at you with soft eyes and a bright smile as he admitted

"That's actually really sweet, I've got a lot of quirks and things I do out of nervousness or habit and Mira always found them annoying or would laugh about it. You just embrace it, thank you." He told you, picking up your hand to lay a gentle kiss across your knuckles and you felt your heartbeat skip.

You hoped these trial runs worked out because you didnt know if you could handle the heartbreak of having to let this man go.

⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

Six months had passed since your trial run had ended and you found yourself in a steady relationship with Jonathan.

You both had grown closer since being so open with one another and any fights you both had were resolved easily once you gave each other some space and then talked it out.

Ava loved you and you returned the sentiment and you even got to meet Ethan and Jane who would come over on the occasional holiday or birthday. Things were still tense with Jonathan and his former wife but they remained civil especially when dropping off or picking up their son. Ethan had declared he liked you after you had gotten him a baby yoda toy after his favorite movie character.

You still had yet to meet Mira who would come to pick up or drop off Ava while you were at work. Jonathan had asked if you would rather be there when she came but you reassured him that you trusted him to be alone with her and he had looked at you with such adoration in his eyes you had to look away as heat rushed to your cheeks.

The two of you had yet to say the big L word but you were not worried as you knew you both shared the same history when it came to that aspect of a relationship.

When it came down to it you knew full heartedly that you were in love with Jonathan and every little thing about him. Every flaw and imperfection only made you more crazy for him.

"Hey babe?" His voice brought you out of your reverie and you looked up from the pages of your novel to his worried face.

"Yeah, love." You replied closing your book and putting it aside to show him he had your full undivided attention.

He smiled at that, recognizing the show of respect and held his phone up.

"Mira wants to know about picking Ava up for the whole weekend, she wants to treat her to a girls day." You smiled at the fact he was involving you in such a decision and recognized that at the same time he wanted to be sure you would be comfortable as this would be the first time you would be meeting Mira.

"Of course that's alright. Thank you for asking first baby, tell her she's welcome to stay for dinner as well. I'm making chicken tortellini." You grinned as he punched the air in celebration at the mention of your cooking and nodded his head dutifull, sending the text out.

"Great, now come here. I need some quality Jonathan time." You held your arms out and he obliged as he laid his head down on your lap.

"God, I love you." He moaned when your fingers scraped softly against his scalp and you felt him tense as he realized what he just said. You pulled back to look at him as he avoided your gaze, your eyes softening as you recognized the doubt rising to the surface.

"Jonathan can you look at me please?" You asked softly as he slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze.

When he met your eyes, you brought your hand up to brush a curl away from his face, stroking his cheek with care as he leaned into the touch.

"I love you so much, Jonathan. I know it seems soon to say such but there is no other way to describe how deeply I feel for you. I love every little thing about you. The way you rest your chin into your palm when you're sleepy but want to hear what someone has to say, or when you get nervous and fidget with your glasses. The way you listen to soothing nature sounds when you can't fall asleep. How frustrated you get when you have a lecture and forget your notes, every little thing you doubt about yourself or don't like, I love about you because it makes you you. I wouldn't have you any other way."

You watch as his eyes fill up with tears and you catch them with your thumb wiping them away as he sits up to pull you into a kiss.

⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

Meeting Mira had been an interesting experience. You could tell she disliked you simply for the fact that you were with Jonathan and the control she once had on him was no longer in tact.

It didn't help that her daughter was smitten with you as was his son and ex wife who got along well with you. The cherry on the top of the cake was the fact that Jonathan was so deeply in love with you that any thoughts he once had of being with Mira were long gone.

You had seen the frustration in her eyes when she tried to flirt with him in front of you and instead of growing angry you only calmly asked that she keep that behavior for someone who wanted it, which was proven true as Jonathan had put an end to her advances by removing her arms or deflecting her remarks.

She had quickly left after that, angrily grabbing Ava's bags to bring to the car as you calmly assured Ava that she wasn't at fault. You made sure to kiss and hug her goodbye as you gave her your number so she could call anytime she wanted.

The two had left after that and you and Jonathan had retired to the living room where you were leisurely sipping on wine.

"That wasn't a complete disaster." Jonathan remarked and you laughed as you set your wine glass down, your boyfriend mimicking you as he turned to face you.

You leaned into him, the two of you kissing softly as you both began to explore one another, your hands running up and down his arms as his grazed your thighs and waist.

He pulled you onto his lap as you panted into his mouth, grabbing onto his curls with force and causing a whine to escape him.

Your panties instantly dampened at the sound and you began to grind on his length through the thin fabric separating you.

"Fuck." He let out when you bucked your hips into him, the contact making his cock jump through his jeans.

He lifted you up and placed you on the couch as he kneeled before you, slowly sliding your skirt down and your panties with it.

He lifted your leg to rest on the couch, opening you up for him as he blew on your pussy, the cold air causing you to clench around on nothing as you whined.

He used his index finger to circle your clit as he pulled your lips apart and kissed you directly on it, his tongue entering you swiftly.

"Shit, oh my god." You cried out as your back arched, your hands clutching at his head as you moaned wantonly.

You felt him smirk against you as he bit your clit gently, reveling in the high pitched scream you let out as he ate your pussy out like it was his last meal.

You jumped as you felt him enter his index finger into you, the thickness of it causing your walls to clamp down on him in pleasure and your walls squeezed around him.

"You like that baby, I can tell by how tightly you're squeezing on my finger. Tell me baby, how am I making you feel?" He demanded as he thrusted his finger deeper, slipping it out to add two more as he thrust them deep and scissored them, stretching you open.

You spasmed, your legs nearly falling from the couch as he held your leg down with one hand.

"Fuck, you make me feel so good, Jonathan. S-so fucking good." You whimpered out as you felt your core tighten sensing your incoming release.

With a pleased hum, he thrusted hard against the soft spot of your inner wall sending you over the edge.

You cried out as your walls clenched on his fingers, your legs spasming as your back arched and your cum gushed over his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, lifting them to his mouth but before he could lick what you had to offer you pulled his hand towards you, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sucking them deeply as you whirled your tongue around each digit to collect your release.

His mouth hung slightly open as he watched you and you could feel him rut into the couch as his pants tightened even farther. His cock restrained in the material.

As soon as your lips left his fingers he grabbed your head between his hands and kissed you hungrily, a groan escaping him as he tasted you in the kiss.

You moaned into him and lowered your hand cupping him through his jeans. You grabbed at the waist of his pants and tugged as he distractedly shoved his pants off his legs, his boxers following.

He picked you up and laid you on the couch as he bent over you, circling his cock on your clit causing you to twitch.

"Condom?" He asked and you shook your head as you pulled him on top of you, his weight causing you to moan.

"On the pill." You supplied, he nodded as you pushed a hand on his chest softly to remove your shirt and bra as he swiftly yanked his shirt off and tossed it aside as you did the same, uncaring as to where they landed.

You whined as he gripped your breasts firmly, bending down to take your nipple into his mouth as he caressed the other.

He let go with a soft pop to slap one softly as you gasped at the action.

"I'll play with these later, right now I need to be inside you." You bit your lip at the promise and kept your gaze on him as he lined his cock up and entered you slowly.

You moaned brokenly as he continued to move inside you, his entire length filling you up and pressing against your cervix. You felt like you were going to split open from the sheer size.

"Fuck baby, so tight around me. Can practically see myself in your stomach, feel me right there baby, hmm?" He pressed on your abdomen where a slight bulge could be seen and you nearly came as you cried out at the pressure.

He pulled out slowly, your walls hugging his cock tightly, every ridge and curve brushing against your walls before he thrusted foward hard, his cock entering you in one smooth movement as every inch was forced back inside you.

Your back arched as a choked scream left you and your legs began to tremble as each thrust punched the air from your lungs, his tip knocking into your cervix with each stroke.

"Look at you baby, so pretty spread out on my cock. Practically splitting you open, but you like that huh, got you so dumb on my cock you can't even speak." He punctuated the last word with a thrust as you let out another keen whine.

A sudden ring pierced the air and you whined as Jonathan began to slow his thrusts, his eyes falling to your phone on the coffee table.

He picked it up, his eyes squinting at the screen as he began to leisurely thrust into you once again, the slow motion causing you to buck your hips up into him to get him to move faster.

"Hmm, looks like you got a call from Dean. Why don't you answer it baby, see what he wants." And before you can tell him no he presses the accept button, putting it on speaker and setting it back on the coffee table. You gasp as he thrusts hard, hitting your g-spot with no effort and causing you to clench around him.

"Hello?" Dean's voice rings out and you bite your bottom lip hard as Jonathan tilts his head at you to answer, his hand lifting your leg and pushing it to your chest causing him to slide deeper.

"Y-yeah?" You ask into the phone as Dean calls your name again.

"Hey, I can't find my Yankees Jersey, do you still have it?" He asks right as Jonathan gives another deep thrust that has you seeing stars. You choke as you struggle to form a coherent thought and Dean seems to hear the sudden strain of breath as he calls your name suspiciously.

"U-uh, no, n-no I haven't seen it." He hums and then proceeds to ask how you've been handling the break-up. Jonathan smirks as he scoots you up so that your legs are resting on either side of his, your bottom half resting on his lap. He thrusts hard and the angle now has him brushing your cervix with every stroke, the curls at the base of his cock kissing your clit. The stimulation causes you to moan loudly as you forget about every other thing, including your ex who is now shouting into the phone with confusion as he hears your moans.

"Hey Dean, Jonathan here and I'd say she's handling the break-up pretty well considering she's being split open on my cock right now. Listen." He holds the phone near your mouth as you moan brokenly.

Dean curses, shouting out in disbelief and Jonathan smirks as he hangs up the phone quickly, throwing it on the table as he brings his fingers to toy with your clit.

"Come on baby, I can feel you clenching on my cock. You liked him listening to me fuck you, didn't you?" He asks, your moans the only response he needs.

"You gonna come for me, huh angel? Come on my cock, baby. Squeezing me so tight, can't wait to fill this pretty pussy up." He mutters and the thought of his come overfilling you is what brings your pleasure to the brink.

You cry out as your pussy clenches around him like a vice, his cock fucking you through your climax as you spasm around him, and you moan as you hear a breathy gasp escape him, his cock twitching in you as he fires off a load of cum, pumping each round into you and coating your walls.

He collapses on you as you both pant and your mind slowly recovers from the haze of lust.

You kiss his cheek as he pulls out from you slowly, wincing at the sensitivity of your pussy and you reach your hand out to grab the wipes from where you keep them under the couch cushion, handing them to Jonathan who kisses you deeply in gratitude as he wipes himself off.

"We are definitely doing that again." You say after a beat of silence and he can't help but laugh.

He was so lucky to have met you that day in the park.

#graysonshaven #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy #jonathan levy x reader #18+ content #smut #oscar isaac #oscar issac fic #jonathan levy fic

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