Smthn About Babydoll Is Just So😍

At This Hour

Jonathan Levy x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 24: On the counter

Summary: You look after Ava while Jonathan goes out on a date.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing and being so lovely! <3

Warnings: neighbour!reader, mentions of the reader liking horror films/Terrifier, reader also has a cat, p in v sex, cream pie, fingering, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2554

Jonathan knows he shouldn’t be doing this. But he just can’t help himself. 

The date had been a bad one, pointless in fact. He should have ducked out after the first ten minutes, no five. 

But he’d stayed and now it was nearly twelve fucking am by the time he got home. He should really go to bed. Get some sleep. 

Instead, he was talking to you, and drinking coffee. Oh, three am him was going to be pissed.

“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” Jonathan pushes his glasses higher. “Please, you got to let me give you some money.”

You shake your head, raising your hand, “Oh, no, no, no, you letting me pinch your netflix and amazon password for the last four months is more than enough.”

He chuckles, fiddling with his mug, “Yeah, but that’s just being neighbourly.” 

You scoff. “It is not, Jonathan.” 

Your friendship had started about seven months ago, when Jonathan had taken in a grand total of eight parcels from fedex on your, and your roommates, behalf in one day.

After collecting them, you’d apologised profusely, and baked him a banana cake. Panicking when you gave it to him that a, you didn’t actually know if he was allergic to anything, and b, that he actually liked bananas. 

Luckily he did.

Your friendship had grown when his car wouldn’t start one morning, and you’d given him a lift to work on your moped and picked him up after. Plus you’d got your friend’s cousin’s, uncle’s ex-colleague to have a look at his car and sort out the problem. 

He’d bought you lunch and looked after your cat if you had to go out of town. You watched his daughter if he had to work late on the days he had her. 

Originally, this hadn’t been his weekend to have Ava, hence why he had a date. A very, very bad date. 

“Come on,” he smiled at you, that horrible brilliantly blinding smile that leaves you weak at the knees, “usually you’re just with her for what, forty five minutes? An hour, this was nearly four.” 

You giggle, “I can’t believe you didn’t just politely leave.”

“I am a man of faults.” 

You laugh harder, “Look, I like Ava, we watched a series of R rated horror films and I made sure she ate her weight in sugar without brushing her teeth.” 

He grins. “I’m sure I would have had a better time with you guys here.”

You shrug, “Well, you can join us next time. We’re going to watch Terrifier.” You tease.

“Ugh,” he shudders, “Don’t tell me you like those kinds of films?” 

You can’t stop from smiling at his dramatic reaction. “What? You don’t?” 

He pulls a face and you giggle.

“They’re fun!”

“They are not.” He takes a sip of his cooling coffee, trying to nurse it as long as he could.

“They are.”

“All blood and guts.” He screws up his face, putting it on a bit for you.

“But the prosthetics! Plus it’s not real.” You say playfully. 

“Freaky.” He shakes his head. “Too much for my old heart.” 

You snort. “Jonathan.”

“What?” He smiles.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” 

“You just want me to tell you how young you are.” You rest your chin on your hand as you look at him.

He pauses and then nods rapidly, “I do actually, and you have to, it’s the social contract.” 

You giggle, “Well, I’m not.” 

“That's unfair.” He says in mock outrage, making you laugh harder. 

“Fine,” you hold up your hands, “You’re very handsome.” 

He pauses, looking at you for a moment. “I said you had to tell me I was young, not beautiful.” He teases, expecting you to throw a comment back at him immediately. 

But instead, you pause. For a moment, it’s almost funny how you freeze. 

“I…” You swallow, your mouth dry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“It’s okay,” he quickly covers, “I’m just teasing, it’s fine.” 

You smile weakly, your skin burning. You get up quickly, nearly knocking your mug over in the process. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Sorry, I, erm,” you pick up your mug, and then his, “Let me, erm, I’ll put them in the dishwasher.” 

You turn before he even has a chance to say anything, rushing over to the other side of the kitchen, putting the mugs on the counter.

Jonathan stands quickly, calling your name, “Hey, it’s fine, really. Don’t worry,” anxiety cuts into his chest, leaving his ribs bare. He walks behind you, accidentally bumping into you as you turn. 

“Sorry,” he grabs your arm to steady you and himself, his heart thudding so hard in his temples he’s sure he’s going to burst a blood vessel. 

You glance at his eyes nervously, breathing hard. “I…”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He says softly. He should put his hand down, stop touching your arm. “I was just teasing.” 

You nod, “I know, I… I’m sorry.” Your insides squirm a little, trying to find a way out to escape this awkwardness. 

“Don’t be,” he breathes, leaning a fraction closer. “It’s always nice when someone beautiful calls you handsome.”

Your brain glitches, static for a moment, rebooting.  

“Beautiful?” You repeat.

“Beautiful.” His mouth says before he has any say in the matter. “And kind, and funny, and wond-”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him deeply. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back against the counter.

It takes him a moment to catch up with his body, to figure out this is actually real, not some well used fantasy he plays out behind his eyes in the shower. 

You pull lightly at his hair, moaning softly when he licks into your mouth and pushes his legs between yours. He rocks against you, his cock quickly hardening in his trousers as he presses against the seam of your jeans. 

Part of him wants to pull back, to not push things, to not rush. But the much louder voice in his head laments at how long he’s been holding back, how long he’s been thinking of you while touching himself with a lubed hand. 

You gasp as he kisses along your jaw, his beard tickling your skin as he sucks at your pulse point greedily. God, if he could just get you to make that noise one more time.

“Jonathan,” you moan softly, pressing yourself closer to him and pulling on his shoulders, needing to rid the fraction of space between you.

He growls, nipping at your neck and nearly coming on the spot when he hears how needily you call his name. “Can I take these off?” His words are nearly lost with how he sucks on your skin, barely able to move his mouth back more than a centimetre. He pulls at your top, your trousers and you nod hastily. 

His groan at your confirmation makes you shiver. He practically tears your clothing from you, pushing and pulling the material away as if it personally offended him, before he hikes your right leg up around his waist and urges you up onto the counter. 

He sucks your breasts into his mouth greedily, quickly going from one to another, like a child in a toy store unable to choose his favourite. While he presses his thumb to your clit and strokes his fore and middle fingers through your folds. 

He groans deeply at the wetness he finds, rocking against you as he pushes inside. 

You gasp, biting down on your lip to keep yourself vaguely quiet as you cling onto his shoulders with one hand and the counter with the other. 

He strokes gently, pressing rhythmically against your walls as he toys with your clit and you sob, practically clinging onto him for dear life.

Pleasure builds dizzyingly fast in your belly, threatening to pull you down with every stroke. You moan in his ear, lightheaded, just about gathering yourself together to whimper his name. You weren’t prepared for this utter onslaught, for him to be so determined to pull you apart piece by piece. 

Spikes of sensation buzz along your skin, twisting and building. 

“You’re going to make me come,” you sob, shocked at how quickly your body is ready to fall apart. 

“Fuck yes,” he growls, sinking his teeth into your collar bone before he licks up your neck back to your lips. It’s hot and wet and messy, his tongue in your mouth to quiet your sobs  as you pulse and gasp, coming violently around his fingers. 

You shake in his grip, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his shoulder. He works you through it, stroking and pumping until you feel like liquid in his hands. 

“God,” he groans, kissing your forehead and breathing hard. He takes his fingers out of you slowly and shoves them in his mouth, moaning wantonly at the taste. 

When you manage to pull back a fraction to look at him, you can see his glasses have steamed up. You giggle and he grins around his fingers, taking them out with a pop to kiss you. 

You run your hands through his hair, shivering as he presses close once more. 

“Do you?” He starts at the same moment you speak - “Can I?”

He chuckles, nodding for you to go first. 

“Take these off.” You mutter, pulling at his jumper. He moves back a fraction, letting you pull it over his head and snorting when his glasses get caught in the neckline. He whips them off, placing them on the side, his curls wild. 

Jonathan bites his lip as you unbuckle his jeans, helping you by undoing his fly.

“Can I fuck you?” He groans, kissing your cheek and jaw, each glide of his tongue makes your body sing. 

“Please.” 

He growls, barely pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs before he’s taking his heavy cock in hand and pumping himself a few times. 

You take a cheeky look down and bite your lip. 

He grins, “Like what you see?” 

The line would make you giggle in any other situation, but now your mouth is watering. You nod rapidly. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, spitting in his hand, “So that’s what makes you lost for words, I get it.” He smears his saliva over the head of his cock before he presses closer, guiding the tip to your folds. 

“You’re really-” You whine, gasping as he notches at your entrance and just glides inside. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your body bucking unthinkingly as he pushes deeper. 

He groans deeply, sighing like this is his first drink of water after a long hot day. He slides his hands to your inner thighs, spreading you wider as he eases in.

“Jonathan,” you gasp.

“I know, I know, fuck, you’re so tight.” He lightly rocks his hip, sheathing himself in the last few inches. 

You whine, licking into his mouth when he kisses you hungrily. He thrusts experimentally, easing out a fraction before he pushes back in. 

“How do you like it?” He mutters against your lips, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. 

“I don’t mind,” you manage to say, your voice barely there. 

He snorts, moving one of your legs to wrap around his waist again as he takes hold of your hips in a firm grip. “Tell me if you want something.” He groans, pulling out and then plunging back in. “Want to make you come again.” 

You nearly shriek, throwing your head back and managing, somehow, to keep your voice muffled as he sets a brutal pace. 

He bucks into you rapidly, shaking the cutlery on the drainer by the sink with every deep thrust. The toaster jumps with every buck of his hips into yours. The sound of your slick echoing as you coat his cock.

“You look so fucking hot when you come,” he groans. “So fucking wet.” He pounds into you, sweat beading in his hairline, the way you grab at him and whine setting his blood ablaze. 

His pubic bone smacks against your clit with every thrust, his cock rolling against your walls and pushing impossibly deeper. 

Something in you wants to break, needs to snap and flood out as he keeps rhythm, your body moving in time with his desperately. 

You bite at his neck, sucking a love bite into his skin and shivering when he tenses and growls. He pulls you back a fraction with one hand on your jaw, his eyes so dark, and licks into your mouth like you hold the secrets of the universe. 

You whimper, so needy for anything he’ll give - and he’ll give you everything. 

Pleasure pulses in your core, makes your pussy flutter and you’re so close you can taste the sweetness on your tongue. 

“Jonathan!”

“You gonna come on my cock? Gonna make a nice creamy mess?” He groans, his balls tightening. “Want to feel you, please.” 

You gasp, sobbing silently as your orgasm is ripped from you. Pleasure explodes along your nerves, wiping out any other thought as he drowns you and revives you in the same instant. 

“Shit.” Jonathan’s hips stutter, his mouth open as your walls squeeze and suck him deeper, milking him for every single drop. He comes with a deep groan, emptying rope after rope of hot, thick cum inside. 

He clings onto you as he finishes, hazy for a moment with the strength of his orgasm. 

You breathe hard, he can feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

Lightly he sucks on your neck, licking the salt from your skin. He kisses your temple. “You okay?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk for a week.” You tease, exhausted, and he chuckles.

“I’ll wait on you hand and foot while you recover.” He smiles when you look up at him, stroking your cheek as he kisses you softly, reverently. 

“Honestly, was that alright?” He mutters, a pang of worry settling under his ribs.

You snort, and kiss him deeply, stroking your fingers through his beard. “Fucking amazing.” 

He grins. “Do you want to do it again sometime? Maybe in a bed after I’ve bought you dinner? I’ll even watch that Terrifier film with you.” 

You giggle and nod. “I’d like that.” 

He tries to help you down, but you end up helping him. His jeans have twisted around his calves and he nearly falls to a heap on the floor. 

“My hero,” he mutters as you pull them off and kiss his thigh. “We’re lucky Ava didn’t wake up when we were… can you imagine me falling over is the thing that actually wakes her? She’ll need therapy for years after seeing her dad naked on the kitchen floor with his jeans around his ankles.”

You clap your hand over your mouth to stop your fit of laughter and he grins as he helps you back to your feet.

“I love hearing you laugh.” He lightly touches your cheek. “Do you want to take a shower?” He gives you a cheeky smile. “With me? You can stay over… if you want, I mean. No pressure.” 

You smile and nod. “I’d like a shower. With you. And sleep over.” 

He grins, wrapping his arms around you. 

Thank you for reading!

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

US federal employees will no longer be observing:

MLK day

Black history month

Women's history month

Holocaust Day of Remembrance

API heritage month

Pride

Juneteenth

Women's equality day

Hispanic heritage month

Disability awareness month

Native American heritage month

they've also shut down all affinity/resource/networking groups for minorities

GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

pornstar!moon-boys x fluffer!reader

part two: steven

special shout out to @writefightandflightclub for this masterpiece about feral steven!

a/n: some headcannons bc we filthy up in this bitch >:) this one turned out a bit longer than I anticipated

others: marc | jake | more steven

----

as a fluffer, it's your job to know how to keep the boys interested. each alter has their own preferences:

(NSFW 18+ under the cut)

steven: the sweetheart

GIF by moonxknightx

Steven was the second alter you met. And this time, you were the one that was surprised.

Sweet Steven didn't seem like he had any business being a pornstar, but it turns out he's great at it. And the viewers love him.

Especially the ladies.

He's one of the tamer performers, acting as a gentle lover that provides comforting sex or the shy guy who's inexperienced. Viewers love how unapologetically desperate and pussy-drunk he gets on camera, how the slightest touch can set him off.

His most viewed video is him as a naive professor getting seduced then fucked by a slutty student. Needless to say, in most of his work, he's the one getting fucked, not the other way around.

You don't know why he followed in Marc's footsteps, becoming an adult performer, but it was only a few days after he joined the business that he asked for you. It was puzzling at first, meeting a variation of Marc who shares his face and body, but it was clear that they were quite different.

Unlike Marc, Steven craved softness and wasn't afraid to show it.

He reacts best to praise, gentle touches, and kisses like young lovers on a honeymoon. He likes to feel taken care of, ease into it instead of diving right in.

You found out pretty quick that you have to be more careful with him, one wrong move and he's spilling in your hand, eyes glistening with humiliation and embarrassment. Then it's another 15 minutes before the next session.

His sessions alway start with a greeting. Even after all this time, he's still very shy around you, acting like it's a first date rather than a quick fluffing sesh.

"Uh, hello!" He literally waves at you and you're not even three feet away.

"Hey Steven." Your voice is soft with him, as sweet as honey and as tempting as nectar. It's the first step to luring him in.

He always gives you that look even before you step into the room, one of longing and anticipation. Like you're the best part of his day. No wonder his partners are always falling for his shy smiles and dreamy eyes.

You sit on one of the couches in the prep room, gesturing to the spot right next to you, "Come 'ere, babe." He loves it when you call him sweet names like that.

You start with a kiss:

Your hand cradles his jaw and he nuzzles into it, his eyes shut, ready for anything you'll give him. You hear him sigh as you slowly lean in and press your lips gently against his, showering his mouth with small pecks, just enough to leave him wanting.

He whines when you pull away, eyes opening ever so slightly to see where you're going. You barely pull away enough to take your shirt off before he's pulling you back in for hungry kiss, hand on the back of your neck.

Steven can actually be quite demanding when he really wants something. And though most sessions consist of him obediently sitting next to you while you squeeze and tease him, sometimes he loses control.

He loves your taste, the smell of your perfume, and the weight of your body against his. His hands glide and mold over every inch of your body, attempting to memorize your figure for the hundredth time, as your hips roll against him.

You've found the best way to get him hard but not ruined is a few minutes of making out and clothed grinding. He's usually already plenty hard after the first few innocent kisses, but to stay hard, he needs physical touch. Closeness.

You.

But you have to strategically measure it out to get the best results.

The first time, you experimented by giving him head, but he physically couldn't stop himself from fucking your throat. He came with a cry, hand clutched desperately in your hair, forcing your lips to meet the tan skin of his hips. You're sure you'll have that image in your mind for the rest of your life.

Anyone who's witnessed Steven cum first-hand is as lucky as they get. His whimpers could inspire a nun to leave the church.

The second time, you gave him a handjob. He spurted against his t-shirt within a handful (lol) of minutes moaning your name, thighs trembling against yours. You also learned that he's not one to be edged unless the director wants him with tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. (sometimes they do though!)

Finally you figured out the best bet: kisses, nuzzles, touches, and grinding.

Steven whines out as you lave your tongue softly against his sensitive neck. His hips attempt to cant with yours, grinding his hardness into your heated center.

"Please, darling. Grind harder on me, I-I need it."

"Mm...No can do Stevie," Your hips raise so he's barely touching you, depriving him of much needed stimulation. "Can't have you busting in your shorts, can I?"

"No no no, ughnn..." He tries to hold your waist and pull you further against him, but you yank his wrists away, pinning them against the couch. "Please, I promise I won't. Jus' need a little more, is all."

You giggle at his frustration, but only answer with a peck on his lips before pulling away. You can actually hear him whimper when you roll off of him.

"I think you're ready, Steven."

"N-no. Not yet. I think I still need more. Yeah, a bit more will do me good!"

You perk an eyebrow as you consider the large tent at the front of his shorts. He looks up at you sheepishly.

"Yeah, I don't think so."

Literally every profile I've seen on my browse page is like this😭 I LOVE it

truly nothing more magical than finding a good fic and then going to their profile and finding out there’s a whole goldmine in there of fics just begging to be read. what a beautiful world we live in.

DOGE is an obvious scam to give Elon Musk access to the 32 INVESTIGATIONS.

11 Federal Agencies were working just fine. No fraud, no waste.

Elon Musk is providing zero evidence. He is sharing nothing with oversight committees.

In essence, Trump created an illegal and unconstitutional fourth branch of government.

End Musk. Save America.

😋😋😋

Of course your Domme is happy about your devotion to her, but have you ever tried :

Give your Domme a pretty bracelet that catches her eye, just because,

Buy her that scented candle she loves, so that her surroundings reflect her elegance,

Give her a pretty leather notebook, so that every word she writes is surrounded by luxury,

Buy her the supplies for her hobbies,

Offer her flowers,

Send her her favorite treat,

Add a small decorative object to enhance the space where she relaxes,

Send her tea, just because she likes it,

Give her that lipstick you saw, because it's her colour

Write her poems, textes and thoughts about your submission to her

Draw and paint scenes that you know she likes

Drive her anywhere she needs, cause she shouldn't be tired from driving

Devotion is a beautiful thing, but what does it mean without you showing a concrete investment in her comfort, pleasure and authority?

Think about really thanking your Domme for the time she spends with you.

Being a sub means honouring your Domme at every level, including through small material gestures that leave no doubt about your devotion. ✨

Genre of character: submissive like a guard dog is submissive

🤭🤭you guys.....

Ok but I just know that Frank Castle is a moaner. Like yeah, yeah, yeah, grunting growling, groaning, sure sure sure— he moans.

Like... moans.

When he's able to, when he can afford to fully be comfortable and let his guard down.

He's pounding into you like it's his last day on earth and he's moaning the whole fucking time. He's watching and listening to how good he's making you feel and he just can't help himself. He's going to let you know how good he's feeling, he's a talker and a moaner.

You cannot tell me otherwise.

i need a older man to let me sit on his lap and give him sweet kisses on his cheek.

mdni

i saw a post talking about soap being an actual loser who’s never got any action in his life. growing up catholic and then serving in the military he’s never had any actual experience. he compensates by chatting up birds and lying about how experienced he is. he radiates arrogance when he’s actually desperate to be in between a pretty birds thighs for once.

so when he meets you at the pub and you fall for his lies and the both of you end up on your couch. your on top of him rutting against his jeans, whimpering against his kisses, and he feels like his on cloud nine. and then he feels himself getting close already and he wants to shoot himself in the leg right there.

“bonnie.. ‘old on—“ and then his hands are gripping your hips so tight and the most guttural groan leaves his lips, head thrown back against the back of the couch, and he’s panting like a dog. and then you have the nerve to giggle which makes his neck heat up in embarrassment.

“tsk, naughty boy.” you purred, hand going to curl at the base of his neck, gripping his hair and pushing his lips to yours again. that’s when johnny felt a wire switch inside his brain and he felt himself chubbing up again.