I just started crushing on Dwight and ya girl a mess. If you’re down for it maybe a Drabble or some headcanons of Dwight going down on a fem!reader? Gender neutral is also great!
HAVE A WHOLE DRABBLE BC I (CLAPS) YEARN (CLAPS) AND EVERYONE ROUND THESE HERE PARTS KNOWS THAT I’M A FREAK FOR DWIGHT
sorry it’s bullet pointed, i literally wrote a whole fic and then tumblr fucking deleted it and i deadass don’t have the energy to re-do it, this thing was so lonG
[NSFW] Dwight Fairfield Going Down On a Fem!Reader
The first time Dwight tries to go down on you, it’s very inexperienced. He’s never done it before. He has no idea what he’s doing.
But he’s enthusiastic.
He is so fucking willing to try it out.
And he doesn’t wait for you to ask, either. He’s always so shy, but eating you out? He really wanted to give it a go. Call it curiosity.
The two of you are lying in the grass, Dwight hovering over you. He’s panting, his chest heaving, his cheeks flushed. You thought he was about to take you.
He starts peppering kisses across your neck. And then your collarbone. You giggle softly as he trails gentle kisses across your skin, thinking he’s just being…. Sweet.
He moves down, butterfly kisses pressed across your chest and ribs and hips. You feel a huff of air on your heat.
“D-Dwight?” You question, confused and embarrassed.
He looks at you. There’s a somewhat pleading look in his eyes. He manages to maintain eye contact as he lowers his head and slowly leaves a tingling trail of kisses across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
His eyes flicker down. And then back to your face. And then he wastes no time. You’re not used to him just… Taking charge. Curiosity must have got the better of him.
It starts with just a soft, little kiss against your heat. That’s it. You have no time to dwell on it.
He immediately wants to use his tongue to the best of its ability. You don’t get a chance to even consider what is happening before his mouth attaches to you.
He’s very gentle, at first. Shyly exploring what he can, nervously hooking his arm under your thigh to pull your leg over his shoulder.
If you start making noises, especially mewls and squeaks, he gets rougher. Tongue going deeper, harder.
He pauses for a moment, glancing up at you. “Am I doing okay?” He asks. There’s a weirdly prideful tone in his voice, as if he knows he’s doing wonderful. And yet you know that’s not the case. He’s asking reassurance.
You nod, breathless, arching your back in an attempt to find his tongue again. You beg him. “Please,” you tell him.
And he doesn’t waste a heartbeat. You feel a grin on his lips as he buries his head between your thighs, rougher than he was before, smirking against your sensitive skin. His arm hooks around your leg and his thumb joins his tongue, rubbing and circling and god, it’s so good.
Who knew he’d be a natural?
If you tangle your fingers in his hair, he’ll go fucking wild. If you use it as leverage to push his face further into you, he’ll fucking love it. There’s something so controlling about it that he adores. There’s something about the fact that you’re so desperate for him that absolutely gets him going.
And he’ll fucking lap up the wetness with an eager tongue. There’s something so intoxicating about how you taste, and he can’t quite describe it.
Even when you’re tipped over the edge, he can’t quite find it in himself to stop.
You have to nudge at his head, gently pushing him away for him to get the message.