jules

𓏲⋆ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 !!

jules. she/her. pisces sun. dean di laurentis’ puck bunny. reader && writer. dylan o’brien fangirl since 2016. always listening to music. future actress. head in the clouds. clairo lover. saintlaurentcowboy. concert goer. film lover. johnny kavanagh’s girl. allie hayes reincarnated. 𓂃 ₊⟡

𓏲⋆ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ››

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thinking about subby!peter who can’t help but cry whenever you touch him, desperate for any contact after years of being alone with only his hand to give him any satisfaction. when you wrap your hand around his leaky, achy cock for the first time in years, he feels like he’s gonna cum on the spot. but it’s when you put your mouth on him that he actually does.

immediately rushing out apology after apology, “fuck, fuck, i’m sorry. you just—god—you feel so good,” as his warm cum spurts down your throat. obviously you knew this might happen, so you were prepared to swallow it all down, watching in content as his face blooms an even darker shade of red. you don’t stop, even when you see the tears start to well in his eyes, it just makes you want to keep going until he literally can’t take it anymore. poor peter hasn’t had this in years, he deserves to be sucked dry.

even as he’s pushing your head down, sobbing more and more apologies while forcing his entirely too thick cock down your throat, you’re in control. he knows it. he knows you’re just being so so nice and letting him feel like he has any control over this. he wouldn’t know what to do with it if he actually did, though. that’s why he needs you to guide him. he needs you to keep milking him, jerking him off, even as his salty tears roll into his mouth and his hips are shaking as his cum is spewing all over himself, making a huge mess that he’ll have to clean later.

when you coo the words, “need a break yet, baby?” peter is inhumanly quick to shake his head and cry out a series of nos. “no, no, no. please don’t—please don’t stop. i can take it, please. i promise. i’ll be good, just please keep going.” and who are you to deny him of his pleasure? he’s feeling too good to stop, and it’s probably the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. an independent, strong, hot fucking superhero, begging for you to keep going.

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CONTENT ⋮ oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, fingering

You had a bad habit.

It wasn’t drinking or drugs like the kooks you surrounded yourself with, but talking. Blabbering on and on whether the person you were speaking to was listening or not.

It wasn’t that you didn’t notice. You just didn’t care.

When people rolled their eyes and made faces to each other, thinking you were just an idiot, you noticed. It just made you want to keep talking. Keep annoying them.

Why should you not be yourself because others have short tempers?

Rafe both loved that you had that attitude, and hated how much you talked. Not all the time, but when he was already in a bad mood and you just kept blabbing about useless information?

“And then she told me that her boyfriend, y’know the one with long hair that’s always a little greasy?” Rafe grunted from his seat across the room. “He was cheating on her the entire time they were dating. And to make it even worse it was her best friend! ...Who also happens to be his cousin... but that’s a whole separate issue,” you rambled on and on about your day and the new drama you’d been told when you went out for lunch.

It wasn’t like you actually cared about any of it, you just liked talking. Specifically, you liked talking to Rafe, even when he was being annoying.

Like right now, only responding to you in grunts and sighs.

“Rafe.”

peter parker x fem!reader | brand new day spoilers kinda

“Does it... What?” Peter laughed nervously, already naked and on top of you. “No! I mean—I mean I don’t think so.”

The night started like many others. Peter got home from saving people, slightly banged up but totally fine. You took care of him, made dinner and took a shower where you cleaned him up.

Which led to a small mid-shower makeout, which led to him eating you out, which led to now. In bed, with no clothes on.

The thought barely crossed your mind, but it came out before you could stop it.

He’d told you about all of his changes (kinda had to when his webs were all over your apartment) and you’d seen how incontrollable they still were. They were shooting out of him hard and fast and he was struggling to stop them.

So was it really that crazy for your brain to think ‘natural web shooting = web ejactulation = web cum?’

CONTENT ⋮ fem!reader, established relationship, suggestive, no more than kissing and a little grinding, references to previous sex, talk about peter’s body

“Peter. Peterrrr,” you whined when he didn’t give back more than a grunt as a response. “Can you do something for me?”

He paused his workout, taking a deep breath while staring at you, waiting for you to continue. Unluckily for him, you wanted a real response from your boyfriend.

“Yeah? What do you need?” his voice was sweet and patient like it always was. “Want some more attention?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head.

“Nope,” you said, popping the p, “I want you to do as many push-ups as you can. And say my name after every one...”

“Okay..? Like—like this?” he asked as he did a test push-up. You hummed an, “uh-huh,” and waited.

https://x.com/thehoneyrow/status/2082960767607767250?s=20

𓏲⋆ CONTENT ⋮ unprotected p in v, semi-public sex (?), dry humping kinda/grinding, oral (f!receiving) & oral over clothing, reader’s first time on top

Logan’s legs were hanging out from under a car as you made your way into the garage, the dull sound of classic rock coming from his speaker on the other side of the room.

He was humming while he worked and tapping his foot along to the music. It echoed quietly through the room.

“Logan?” you called out softly, watching his figure freeze before sliding out. He was looking up at you with a certain excitement reserved only for when he was with you.

A toothy grin spread across his face, followed by his almost raspy voice, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”

“Jus’ came to say hi. I missed you,” you muttered, too distracted by his flexed muscles to give him a better answer. Your gaze dragged down his body, only meeting his eyes again when you realized he wasn’t responding.

He had a look on his face, no doubt knowing exactly what you were thinking. His voice had a heat to it when he asked, “Is that right?”

You hummed, nibbling on your bottom lip when you see his eyes drag over your body. “Well I missed you too. C’mere,” his fingers motioned for you to come closer.

You found yourself standing over him, legs on either side of his body. His palms rested on your calves, rubbing up and down soothingly. “Sit. Nobody’s coming in.”

“But—Okay.” You immediately felt him under you as you sat, already sporting a semi. He leaned up, one hand coming to hold your face as he smashed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss.

The kiss was all consuming. John Logan was all you could feel, taste, smell—he smelt like his body wash and old, rusted metal.

You moaned against him as his teeth dragged across your bottom lip, lightly nibbling. Your hips rocked against his instinctually, his tented pants nudging your throbbing clit.

Falling forward against him, he deepened the kiss as his fingers slid up your legs tantalizingly slow.

When he pulled back, your denim skirt was already rolling up your hips, your soaked lace panties on display to him. One of his fingers gently brushed up your cunt, applying only enough pressure against your sensitive clit to tease you.

“Logan,” you pouted, your hips twitching forward on their own, seeking more contact. “Please.”

Logan smirked under you, his hands coming to lift you off him. He slid further down on his cart, never taking his hands off you, and lined his face up to your pussy.

You moaned when his warm tongue dragged across you, his lips surrounding your clit as he ate you out through your panties.

After a long moment he lifted you again, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side. His tongue met your bare folds, licking a stripe up slowly until he found your clit again.

As he ate you out, your hands pulled at his hair and his hips instinctively rolled against the zipper of his jeans. Two of his long fingers slid their way inside, pumping in and out of you slowly.

The two completely different paces and feelings was throwing you off, but felt incredible.

“Taste so good, baby,” he groaned against you. “Could do this for hours if you let me.”

You could feel your climax building, your knees weak and your hips twitchy. Logan could feel it too. “C’mon, come for me,” he cooed, his hot breath fanning over your cunt as he talked you through it. “I know you can, mhm. That’s my girl.”

You rode his face as he continued lapping at you, only stopping when you had enough strength to hold yourself up and away from his unrelenting tongue.

“Holy shit, you’re perfect,” he breathed as you sat back on his crotch. “I fucking love you.”

A shy smile graced your face as he leaned up to give you a soft kiss. A thank you kiss. A ‘stop worrying’ kiss because he could see the anxious tension still in your shoulders and he knew you all too well.

Whispering, “I love you, too,” against his lips, your hands reached back to fumble with his button and zipper. When you got them undone, Logan sat you both up enough to take pull his pants and boxers down to his feet.

“Logan,” you hummed while pulling off your panties before they could get completely ruined.

“Yeah, pretty?”

“I’ve never... Uh... Y’know...” you mumbled, confused when you saw Logan’s eyebrows scrunch while a cheeky smirk spread across his face.

“We’ve had sex,” his tone was a mix between a question and a statement. You felt embarrassment run through your entire body as you winced.

“No, I know,” you laughed awkwardly. “I mean, like, I’veneverbeenontopbefore.”

Logan’s face went from confused to confident in seconds.

“That’s alright,” his hands slowly dragged from your knees to your upper thighs, stopping just short of where his mouth was only a minute ago. “I’ll do all the work, yeah? Jus’ don’t wanna get you all dirty in here.”

Mumbled an, “Okay,” you visibly relaxed a bit.

Logan reached down, pumping his thick cock a few times before lining it up to your cunt. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you hummed, “Uh-huh,” and let out a quiet moan as his tip slipped inside. The stretch as he pushed further in was amazing, the different position hitting a completely new angle.

“Fuck, Logan,” you almost screamed as he started thrusting in and out of you. One of his hands—the one not holding you by the hips to guide you—came up to cover your mouth.

“Y’know I love hearing you, baby, but we gotta be quiet,” he strangled out, holding in noises of his own. “Can you do that f’me? Yeah?”

You nodded frantically as you grinded your hips against him, meeting him as he slammed into you. One of your hands was now covering your mouth, letting him use both of his hands to control the pace.

The other hand was against his chest, trying to ground yourself.

Logan could tell you were getting closer, your legs shakier and your hand gripping at his dirty t-shirt. He slid one of his hands down, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles.

He heard a barely muffled moan from you, along with feeling your walls squeeze around him. He almost came right there but he held out, wanting to bring you to your second orgasm before he got his. “Feel good?”

“Uh-huh,” you rocked against him, hips twitching and your brain feeling like mush. “So good, Logan. I’m gonna—I’m close.”

His thrusts were unrelenting as he breathed, “I know, I know. Come for me, baby.” His words sent you over the edge for the second time, even harsher than the first.

He worked you through it, his own orgasm barely even fazing him he was so focused on you. Only feeling how sensitive his dick was when your pussy gripped the shit out of him. “Fuck.”

His entire body relaxed, laying flat on the cart.

You leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. His brain not even needing to catch up, his body kissing you back on it’s own.

It was short, both of you still struggling to catch your breaths.

You could feel him inside you, along with his hot seed, twitching but not really softening. Testing the waters, you gently ground your hips backwards.

A strangled noise came from his throat, his hands on you in seconds. His eyes were squeezed shut as he grumbled, “Baby. Don’t start.”

“You’re not done,” you whined, moving your hips again.

You gasped when Logan started standing up, still holding you to where he didn’t have to pull out. In a mirror across the room, you could see Logan’s arm muscles flexing.

He felt you squeeze around him again.

Pressing you against the wall, his lips dragged wet kisses down your neck, his hips slowly starting to move again. Your hand was in his hair, gripping his brown strands as he fucked you against the wall with more and more force.

The noises were falling out of both of you uncontrollably, the need for each other outweighing logic. Nothing about it was quiet or discreet, but Logan couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. He needed you right then and there.

And with the way he fucked you? There was no way you would want to stop him.

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“Hold her! Oh my god.” you squealed when the baby golden retriever tried to jump out of the tub full of water. The movement causing a splash that soaked your tank top.

Beau barely caught her in time to keep her in the bathtub, his hearty laugh ringing through the bathroom.

He didn’t seem to be one bit bothered by the fact that he was covered in soapy, dirty water.

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckled, but his attention was barely on you. His baby voice was quickly back as he muttered, “Y’gotta stay in the tub, girl. You’re still all dirty.”

It was both annoying and adorable.

Since Beau got the dog, his attention was split even more. You, her, school, and football.

While you were still at the top of his priorities (according to him), he was extra busy with taking care of her, training her, bathing her, exercising her, etc. You didn’t mind, but you missed the calm moments you could no longer get with her being around.

It was like you had a child already and you weren’t even out of college.

The dirt was starting to come off as Beau scrubbed her with dog shampoo, turning the water into an even darker muddy color. “Ew. She’s so gross,” you whined, rinsing her with water.

Beau just laughed and replied, “Be nice, she’s still just a baby.”

“Whatever. She’s lucky she’s cute,” you grumbled.

He turned off the water, holding her still in the tub while he asked, “Can you grab the towel? I left it on the counter.”

When your eyes followed his gaze to the counter, you found a very familiar pink towel. “She’s stealing my towel too?”

Your boyfriend just laughed and waited, his eyes falling over your body as you grabbed the towel with attitude. “First my boyfriend, then my towel. What’s next? My job?”

“Baby.” Beau’s voice was warm and trying to be serious and gentle, but you could see through it. “It’s your old towel, you don’t use it anymore. Can she have it?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the smile on your face. “Fine. But I want my boyfriend back for a little bit tonight.”

Before Beau could even process what you meant, the dog jumped out of the tub and ran straight for you. Quickly, you wrapped the towel around her and tried to dry her off before she could shake the water everywhere.

“God, you’re so full of energy. Stop moving,” you talked to the dog, petting her and forgetting Beau was even in the room.

The hot water running down your back was a great feeling after being stuck in damp clothing for half an hour. Beau was behind you, rubbing your body with body wash and humming along to the song blasting from his speaker.

You let the sweet scented soap wash off your body as you lathered shampoo in his hair.

“Did you use your shampoo?” he asked as he turned to face you, a cheeky smile on his face. “It smells like you.”

You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, mumbling against them, “Don’t act like you don’t use it every time anyway. You always smell like it after you shower.”

He let out a fake scoff, muttering, “I don’t know what you’re talking about...”

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me wash your hair.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up. He pressed a slow kiss to your lips, deeper than last time. Pressing you against the tile, his hands slid down your body and gripped at your hips.

You pulled away just enough to say, “We’re not having sex in the shower right now.”

Beau nodded but moved his kisses to your neck, your fingers in his soapy hair. He groaned against your skin dramatically when you moved the shower head to rinse out his hair, forcing him to pull away to not get soapy water in his eyes and mouth.

“You hate me,” he pouted, his eyes relaxing closed at the feeling of you gently scratching his scalp.

“Would I be doing this if I hated you?”

“Maybe.” The warm water ran down your back as you swapped places under the stream. “You’re softening me up.”

You grinned, giving him another quick kiss. “Or I just love you.”

“See? Distracting me with your love,” he paused when you gave him a look. “I love you too, baby.”

“Good. Now let’s finish up so we can go watch our show and cuddle with the dog.” You turned the water off, adding, “Oh, and you’re doing the laundry. Your baby got our clothes wet.”

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