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netherfeildren · 4 months

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Meet Me in the New Year

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: “We’re havin’ a baby this year,” voice boyish and shy and full of excitement and love.

You peer up at him, cheek smushed against the ball of his shoulder. “We are.”

“Ready?”

You nod, slow, pulling his head down for another kiss. “Happy New Year, Joel.”

-OR-

The New Year's Eve AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; New Year's Eve AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Ringing in the New Year with your baby daddy like God intended; More fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pregnancy sex; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Meet me in St. Louis is the best Christmas movie ever; Breeding Kink; Pregnancy Kink; Size Difference; How does one tag fingering?; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; PWP

A/N: One last post for 2023, and of course, I had to do a few of my favorite things; daddy Joel, creampies and pregnancy sex, yeehaw. Here's to a new year of more of the same, but WORSE and nastier.

I should be put in prison next year probably like omg but whatever. Have fun, I love you all lots!

This is a sort of follow up to Evermore

Word Count: 2.4K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

MEET ME IN THE NEW YEAR

“Joel, what time is it?”

He looks down at you, tender look in his eye, dragging that big hand of his through your hair. Tresses slightly sleep damp and warm at the roots and gradually growing cooler towards the ends. Your parent’s living room is dark, only the warm shine of the Christmas tree coming from the front hall peering in around the corner into the comfortable, warm den. Meet me in St. Louis plays on mute on the flatscreen, Judy Garland rushing over to give John Truett a piece of her mind on Tootie’s behalf. “Look who it is. Thought I’d lost you for the night.”

You groan, stretching your legs as far as the couch allows, knees popping hollowly, little toes splaying wide within the sweaty confines of the fuzzy Christmas socks he’d put in your stocking and which you’d been sporting for the past six days. You yawn wide, nose scrunching up at him and turning to nuzzle your face into his lap where you’ve been on and off dozing for the evening. Dinner had been so, so good, browned butter steak and baked potatoes and heirloom tomato, mozzarella salad, and you were so full and so warm and so content beyond imagining. “No… I’m awake,” you mumble against his thigh. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight, I reckon.”

You turn to look up at him, giving him a scrunchy faced smile, “Didn’t miss it, ha. Knew it.”

“Oh, did ya?” His palm moves over the bowl of your skull to cup and squeeze the tender nape of your neck, big fingers gently kneading the fine, tight muscles there. “Gonna ring in the New Year with me, sweet girl?” Mhmm, you moan, nuzzling further against his sweats and the thick heaviness of his half hard cock.

“You’re hard, daddy,” you whisper up at him while his fingertips slip beneath the neck of your pullover, running down the notches of your spine to reach your waist. He pauses there, his hand curving over the growing swell of your bump.

He groans, head dropping onto the back of the sofa, and brings his other hand up to rub across his whiskered mouth. “Don’t fucking start.” You know it makes him crazy when you call him that, but you’d told him that you now have the excuse that he is actually going to be a daddy again, and so it’s only nothing but the truth.

You press your fingertips to your mouth, hiding away your laughing smile. Your first Christmas as a little family of three. Sarah was away with her mother this year since she’d gotten Christmas with the two of you last year, and so the two of you’d decided to come to your parents house again, like you’d done for Thanksgiving last year. You’d been here for a week now, and Joel was starting to lose patience. The lack of alone time was needling as evidenced by the now fully hard and slightly pulsing erection digging into your cheek.

He rolls his head to peer down at you, mock, chastising frown as he drags his hand over the small swell and up to your naked breast, squeezing gently. “We’ve been here too fuckin’ long.” And you moan, hiding your face against his thigh as he pinches your nipple, rolling it softly between his fingertips, thumb dragging around the sensitive puffiness of your areola. Your whole body had been, for the past several weeks, a coiled tight ball of nerves, everything swollen, everything wet, everything needing him. Like your skin knew, knew he’d been the one to do this to you, and wanted it more, wanted it again.

You squeeze your thighs together, legs shifting and sliding against each other to relieve the knot of want he’s spin, spin, spinning with his fingers plucking at your breast. He switches to the other one, hand sliding beneath the heavy weight to lift it into his palm and squeeze. You turn to look up at him now, eyes wide when you can’t control the sound of the moan he forces out of you, mouth falling open, panting. Your breasts, going all tight and hot, needing his sucking mouth. “Joel–”

“What?” He teases, pulling his hand from beneath your sweatshirt and shifting to sit you up and press you back the opposite way on the couch, crawling over you to settle between your thighs he pushes open for himself, slightly to the side and sure to not crush you. “If your father catches us,” he whispers with wet lips moving across your throat, that same hand sneaking its way back under your sweatshirt, tongue against your pulse, “he can’t be mad, sweetheart. Already fucked you full’a my baby. Damage s’already done,” he snickers, mouth latching at your carotid, pulling hard enough you know he’s purposely trying to leave a mark.

“You’re so bad,” you moan, arching up into his hand on your breast, his hot, sucking mouth. You want it on your cunt, you want that thick cock he’s rubbing against you, inside. He’s right, you’ve been at your parents house too long, too far into your first trimester to pretend at civility. You need your husband.

“Not,” he huffs, damp against your collarbone. “Gonna give it to you so good, baby.” He wedges one hand behind your neck, holding you in place, while the one fondling your breast moves down between your legs, center gusset soaked slick already, and you flush at the flutter of muscles wrapped around his jaw when he finds you pantiless beneath your soft sleep shorts. And so what? Pregnancy had made you sensitive and achy. You need to be free, you tell him with an airy laugh.

He clicks his tongue down at you, fingers slipping beneath the soft cotton to pet at the soaking wet tuft of curls with the back of his knuckles. “Pretty cunt’s all wet and hungry for me, isn’t it, baby?” And he’s all teasing grins and sparkly, self satisfied eyes as he searches gently for your clit, parting your folds to pet there slow and steady.

Uh huh, you moan, hitching your foot up higher on his back, little heel digging into the padding of muscles over his ribs to find purchase. You let your other leg slip off the couch with a dull thud, socked foot rolling up on your tip toes so that you can cant and rock your hips against his too light touch on your cunt.

“More, daddy, please,” you provoke, all breathless sighs as you roll your head in the cup of his palm, the heat of him seeping through the mantle of your messy hair, against your scalp. You feel him flex his fingers, tugging lightly at the sweaty roots, and he finally gives you more. Thumb sliding down to your weepy entrance, pressing there lightly, petting and circling, moving back up to press against your clit at the same time that he starts to feed you two fingers at once.

You groan at him, scrunching your nose, but he just clicks his tongue, tutting you into submission and silence. “Take it,” he says gentle and low. You scratch at his shoulders, slipping your fingertips under his ratty t-shirt to get at his skin, using your bracing foot to rock your hips against his palm, rough callused palm catching a little painfully at your clit. You’re going to come so fucking fast like this.

And fingers hooked forward inside of you, he jostles his hand a little, rattles your cunt so that all your wet rings loud in your parents dead silent house. “Hear how sloppy this cunt is for me?” He’s grinding his cock against your inner thigh, fat, blunt tip thrusting against the crease in your thigh over and over and you want it inside of you. You don’t care if you get caught, if someone comes down stairs. You want to soak his hand and then soak his cock and then have him carry you to bed and do it all over again.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Gonna come.” Your lashes flutter shut as he lowers his head to bite your tit, hard and mean, over your sweatshirt, fingers fucking fast and loud, and your cunt goes tight, tight like a knot and then wet and loose and even sloppier. You’re so wet for him. Always.

Fucking Christ, he groans against your breast, sucks harder, darkening the grey cotton so that the hard tip of your nipple is left molded and obvious beneath the soaked fabric. “That’s it. Come just like that, sweet girl. You’re so fucking wet.” And he doesn't’ gentle his fingers, pressing in a little harder, palm grinding against your clit and shaking his fingers up and down inside of you so that he’s jostling another tiny, almost painful, orgasm out of you. The wet sound of your pussy is so loud and so obvious, if someone were to come down the stairs, the sound of it would be unmistakable. “Gonna soak your mother’s nice couch, and then what’ll she think of you? Everyone’s gonna know exactly what you let me do to you down here.”

You’re pretty sure that’s what gets you over the edge that second time. The thought of everyone knowing.

He nuzzles at your breast, your neck, sucking and kissing, fingers still stretching your pussy, while he makes his way up your throat, mouth against the tip of your chin, and then finally to your mouth. Kiss, slow at first, all tongue and hunger, and then soft little pecks. The corner of your mouth, the bow of your top lip, the other corner. Open, he orders, and licks behind your teeth. Bossy man. You love him.

He pets gently at your G-spot, slow and careful because he knows it’ll be too much soon, letting your slick spill out and gather in his palm, drip down his wrist. “Pretty girl,” he says real quiet, “Keeping my baby so nice and warm in this little cunt. Aren’t you?” You whine up at him, bringing your foot up off the floor, trying to toe his arm away. He clicks his tongue at you again, but finally pulls his fingers from you, wet, sucking sound as he leaves your cunt. He brings his hand up to his mouth, fingers slick sticky and sweet, shiny in the dim light and licks himself clean. You watch him as he teases you, all eyes and laughter, wrapping your fingers around his too thick, hairy wrist, not meeting around it, and holding him there as he eats your wet out of his own palm. When he’s done, his mouth is shiny and glossed in you and he presses another kiss to your lips, forces your jaw open, hinged wide and eats you like you know he wants to eat your cunt instead. Later, he says, like he can read your mind because you’re pretty sure he actually can.

When he pushes the loose waist of his sweatpants down over his erection, no underwear either, you roll your eyes at him, and tell him old men aren’t supposed to be this slutty. But at the sight of that too thick cock nestled in his neatly trimmed bed of hair, the wide root leading up to the happy trailed covered belly, you concede that easy access is highly to your benefit. And when he wedges that said thick cock inside of you by way of an answer to your brattiness, fat head stretching your well used, wet hole, he slides in way too easy because you want him way too much.

You moan open mouthed for him, and he presses your sweatshirt up over your bump, your swollen breasts, and finally gets his hot mouth on your bare nipples, teeth grazing lightly, pushing you into a higher, hotter level of desperation. You rock your hips up to meet his thrusts, close your eyes and listen to the slick sound of his cock fucking your cunt. “Lemme see this sweet belly,” he murmurs, cupping the small swell. The changes he’d incited in your body had made him a specific flavor of hungry you were going to miss when this was all over. “You’re so fucking beautiful, carrying my baby. You know that?”

And you’re all soft sighs and whimpers and his name as nothing but a moan, hitching your knees as high as you can to open yourself further to him. “Fuck, you’re gunna come again. Gettin’ tight as a fist,” he grits, hips swinging back and then forward, pelvis grinding so that he’s pressing on your clit and then pressing you into another full blown orgasm. It throbs through you, an almost unbearable heat stirring in your pelvis, walls of your cunt pulsing and milking the too thick, sometimes too big, weight of his cock inside you. It always hurts just a little and you always like it too much.

He pulls out suddenly, tiny flutters still moving through your muscles and sits back on his knees, turning you on your side and shoving your thigh up, pulling the now ruined shorts aside to line up and shove back inside. He braces his foot on the floor, one hand on the back of the couch, the other holding your thigh up and open for himself and drills down into your spasming cunt, mid orgasm, and there are tears in your eyes and you gnaw and slobber on the edge of your mother’s couch as your husband fucks you into one last orgasm. The previous one not even fully over. “Told you you’d fuckin’ take it,” he growls, balls slapping against the curve of your ass, temples shiny with sweat, throat all red and splotchy. “Fuckin’ shame I can’t knock you up again here in your parents house like I wanted to last time. We’re gonna have to try harder next time.”

“Told you, you’re so bad.” And you can barely speak as he starts to pump you full of his load, hot and thick so that you can feel it being forced out of your cunt while he continues to shove inside.

When he’s finished, cleaned you up and tucked you back into his side, both of you choosing to ignore the wet spot on the couch you’d left and agreed to plead the fifth tomorrow if anyone asks, the movie is just finishing up. Judy and her beau are finally at the World Fair together. The clock below the TV rings midnight and Joel presses a soft kiss at the tender spot behind your ear. “We’re havin’ a baby this year,” voice boyish and shy and full of excitement and love.

You peer up at him, cheek smushed against the ball of his shoulder. “We are.”

“Ready?”

You nod, slow, pulling his head down for another kiss. “Happy New Year, Joel.”

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shawnxstyles · 10 months

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panty stealer 2

DATE: JULY 12, 2023

summary: after the forbidden and surprising night of the ‘break-in’, you couldn’t get your mind off of peter. luckily, he couldn’t either, and finds his way back into your bedroom to invite you to a party.

requested: so many times yes!

words: 11.2k!! woah

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral, masturbation, vibrator], praise kink, degrading kink, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, mentions of marjuana/alcohol, and fluff

note: this was the most anticipated and loved of all my writings! i’m so thankful for everyone who liked part 1, i just had to write a part 2. enjoy!!! sorry if the gif is all weird again

—

so many thoughts flew through peter’s mind as he swung through the streets of massachusetts: what homework or projects he might have, you, class, praying flash doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s gone, you, hoping ned doesn’t have a panic attack from flash’s idiocy, and you you you.

he thought of your body and the way it felt underneath him while he pushed himself deep inside of you. and the whimpers you let out as you came. and the sound of your laughter through the palm of your hand. and the smile on your face as he kissed your forehead. he wished he had kissed you longer. he wished he had stayed longer. forever.

was that dramatic? maybe.

you were a recurring thought that never seemed to cease from his brain.

peter sees you around school sometimes—only on the days you two have class together. neither of you made an effort to approach the other, almost as if you expected the other person to do it first. you both sat far apart from each other, too afraid to move seats around and make it obvious. but peter’s gaze fell heavily over your shoulder too many times for you to not feel it.

every time you shifted around to face the back of the room, you watched him avert his wandering eyes to anywhere but you. it made you smile and giggle quietly behind your hand, and of course peter’s hearing picked up on the angelic sounds, causing his heart to skip against his ribs.

and then class would begin and you’d have to wait until next class to see him again.

peter wanted to go see you—talk to you. he really did. but he was so busy with school work and being spider-man that he didn’t have a night off. mid-terms were coming up, but that also meant thanksgiving break was in the rear view mirror. after halloween of course.

in college, halloween was like any other day. you didn’t get a day off to trick-or-treat and hang out with your friends. instead, you were given a pile of tests the week before.

not much of a treat, huh?

outside of college, however, people threw the best parties that night. one of those people obviously being peter. luckily, halloween was on a saturday, so everyone would be done with mid-terms and ready to party their asses off.

flash needed everyone and their mom to come for him to be satisfied (well, maybe not their moms). he’s going to blow up everyone’s phone telling them to invite every person they know. peter didn’t care who showed up. he knows that halloween is one of the biggest parties of the year (besides fourth of july). peter only wanted—no needed—one person to be there.

—

knowing it’s been weeks since he’s seen you and the party was only in a few days, peter had to come and see you. he had to make sure you got the invite. it was difficult to fit visiting you into his schedule, but like always, he made it work.

you were becoming important to him, a priority.

he would only be in and out because who knows what would happen if peter was caught in there? last time, flash got his car hit with a baseball bat. flash was so mad that he completely forgot about peter’s dare, even though it was the whole point of sneaking into the house. it was deserved, but peter didn’t want any of that happening to him. so, peter promised himself no funny business unless you were in his room.

ugh, but peter really didn’t want you around the frat boys. they were way too much.

the sky was pitch black besides the hint of stars that were sprinkled in the sky. it was a chilly, fall night that made peter want to cozy up and pass out in his bed. but he had more important things to do first.

after a boring night of patrol, peter sneaks into his room through his opened window. without making too much noise (unlike flash), he quietly changes out of his suit and packs it into his closet in a box labeled books. peter is certain that no one, especially flash, would ever open that box. so he fixes his appearance by adjusting his shirt in the mirror, checking his teeth, and messing with his wild hair. on impulse, he throws on a cap to better hide himself. with that, he jumps out his window once again, shutting it closed on his way down with his sticky fingers.

like he’s done once before, peter sneaks across the street to the forbidden sorority house. he stares at the windows; all darkened bedrooms, except for one. peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that single lit bedroom was yours, but he was willing to test his luck.

for you.

peering at his surroundings, peter flips his hat backwards and slowly crawls up the side of the house. his fingers latch onto the windowsill as he very slowly lifts his head over it. he notices that it’s slightly cracked open before his gaze is seering through the glass.

you have got to be fucking joking.

your body lays sprawled across your bed as a delicate hand wanders between your parted legs and slides your infamous panties to the side. your torso is covered in the same mit t-shirt from that night, draped over your lavish figure tantalizingly. a laptop plays a pornographic scene of some sort, headphones plugged in one ear.

god, he wanted to touch you so bad.

he wondered if you were thinking of him. recalling how his fingers caressed down your body and how they touched every inch of your skin. but you couldn’t be, right? it’s been weeks and peter hasn’t made a move. you’ve probably moved on from that night like nothing happened. peter should probably go, leave you alone during such an intimate time—

“mm, peter,” your angelic voice hums a quiet moan that was only loud enough for peter’s hearing. peter feels his cock twitch needily at your noises, hissing to himself as you whimper his name. “feels so good.”

well, that’s just like a goddamn invite.

using every skill he has learned from being spider-man, peter yanks open the window and creeps inside. you were too emerged in your fantasies; eyes screwed closed as you listened attentively to the ongoing video. you failed to notice peter’s looming presence over your bed, even with only one headphone in. your noises continued, spurring peter’s next actions on.

without saying a word, peter lays his hand over yours, which is rubbing cute circles over your clit. your movements freeze and your eyes fly open. your mind doesn’t register the sight before you, so your breathing stops and your lungs get ready to scream out every millimeter of oxygen in you. but peter slips his other hand over your mouth before you could alert the entire neighborhood of his presence.

peter could sense the erratic beating of your heart as your tense muscles very gradually soften once you realize it’s him. once you’ve calmed down enough to not scream, you take your free hand and lower peter’s from your mouth.

he came back.

“p-peter, i didn't know you were coming,” you weren't sure what to say. your mind was still spinning like a top toy and your heart was beating like a galloping horse. your skin was burning underneath him, full of embarrassment and immense desire. “a head’s up would have been nice…”

“i’m sorry for the interruption…” peter says, eyes dragging down your body. his hand moves above yours gradually. you inhale sharply as peter guides your hand.

“you don’t seem sorry,” you retaliate as the friction from your hand with the help of peter’s begins to rile your body up again. you feel the wetness seep from your cunt, aching and needy for more. for more of him.

“how come you’re so wet?” peter completely ignores you, and removes your hand from your pussy with a gentle toss. peter didn’t expect anything tonight, but he especially didn’t expect to find his little angel with her hands between her legs. you gasp when his fingers are directly touching you, instantly clenching around nothing. his fingers are a bit chilly, in contrast to your flamy skin. “is it from the video?”

“n-no,” you stutter between needy pants as his fingers threaten to sink into your pulsing hole. your legs spread wider for him, inviting him closer to you. you slam the laptop down with shaky fingers to show him that you no longer need it.

“then what’s got you so wet?” two fingers dip into your cunt to persuade you to talk, but it’s doing the opposite. you bite your lip to hide the traitorous moan that threatens to escape. heavy arousal coats your labia while he pumps in and out of you easily, waiting for an answer.

“i was thinking of you,” you admit, hips rolling into his touch greedily. “wondering if you’d ever come back.”

peter’s heart saddens at the thought of you waiting for him. this whole time peter assumed you forgot about him, when in reality, it was the exact opposite. and there was sticky evidence to prove it.

“i’m right here, angel. what were you thinking about?” his body leans down hovering over yours, causing your body to sink into the mattress.

“thought about you climbing through the window, just like you did. imagined you’d fuck me, like you promised,” you moan quietly between words, trying to sound cohesive. hearing you say such vulgar words has peter’s cock twitching in his pants. with peter, you weren’t afraid to be straight to the point and tell him what you want. peter admired that, and would probably do anything you asked him to.

“with time, i’m a man of my word, baby.”

close and personal, peter interlocks his lips with yours. your frolicking hands drift to his warm neck, caressing the nape as you melt into him. peter inserts a third finger into you, eliciting a muffled moan against his lips. the action opens up your mouth and allows peter to effortlessly glide his tongue inside.

his fingers ram into you at a deliriously fast pace, causing your mind to haze into a euphoric state. it was impressive how peter could be kissing you unforgettably, but also skillfully pleasuring you with his hands. peter seemed like a man full of secrets and skills that you were dying to know.

who is peter parker?

fogging up your mind, your muscles tense and your back continues to arch until your stomach is touching his. your legs threaten to close from the overwhelming pleasure from his fingers, but you battle to keep them wide. his mouth trails down your neck and attacks the sensitive skin below your ear. teeth digging into your lip, you withhold all of your noises that peter so desperately wants to hear.

“if we were alone, you wouldn’t be allowed to be quiet,” he husks in your ear before trailing further down your neck. his voice was every level of attractive, pushing you closer to the edge. peter continued to check off all of your invisible boxes of turn ons.

“i know,” your voice was delicate and strained, and peter could tell you were close.

your walls gripped his fingers eagerly, and your stomach tightened up. it was embarrassing that you were so close so fast, but you couldn’t hold it any longer. once his fingers curled one last time inside of you, you were a goner.

“come for me, baby,” he demanded quietly, so you did.

your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, drenched in blissful euphoria. peter worked you through your high by softly rubbing your legs and coaxing every last drop out of you until you were sensitive to the touch.

without having to ask, peter lowers himself to your mound and yanks your panties down and off your legs. he then cleans up your mess with his skillful tongue, licking and slurping all of your juices. your sensitivity causes you to be squirmy, but he’s done before you know it and then you’re left reminiscing.

although he was right in front of you, you missed his touch already. you missed him inside of you because it made you feel connected, intertwined. you didn’t want him to leave you again for weeks and come back on a random week day. or even worse, never again at all. you hoped that it didn’t become a pattern because you were getting attached to him, whether you liked it or not (you did), and that wasn’t a healthy pattern to be attached to.

peter’s body hovers over yours once again, held up by his muscular arms. your eyes attach to every detail on his face, admiring and memorizing his features in fear that he’ll leave again. he gazes at you like a living daydream, ethereal underneath him. one of his hands caresses your supple cheek, lightly swiping away your frisky hair. you practically purr into his touch, melting at his gentleness.

“peter,” you start, voice as fragile as thin glass.

“y/n.”

“please, don’t leave,” you insist in a whisper, hoping he’d stay. but you know he can’t.

“you know i can’t,” he says as you begin to sit up. see?

“when will i see you again? you can’t just… show up at any time,” you huff, sitting up straight as peter takes a seat beside you.

“i know i know…” peter thinks for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “here. you can put your number in my phone.”

your heart skips a simple beat. you extend your arm to snatch your phone on your nightstand before hesitatingly grabbing peter’s. you switch devices and enter your numbers. you label your name as ‘y/n :)’ and then you trade back phones, but don’t look at them.

“c’mere,” peter says and you curl your body into his. his warmth was addicting and cozy, and could easily make a great pillow for the future. “i’m sorry for not coming back sooner. i’ve been pretty busy with… everything i guess. i should’ve told you.” with your head cradled in his chest, he kisses your rumpled hair genuinely.

a sweet apology. could he get any better? is he just a figment of my imagination?

you lift up your head so you could see him looking down on you. “apology accepted, parker. but i feel like i’m being manipulated with your kisses.”

“how was i supposed to know you’re a sucker for forehead kisses?”

“everyone is a sucker for forehead kisses!” you whisper yell causing him to laugh wholeheartedly as quiet as possible. he kisses your head a few more times, making your heart full of affection and care.

how did you get lucky enough for peter parker to fall into your life? or more specifically, break into your house on two accounts?

“you never fulfilled your promise,” you said, referring to him having sex with you. don’t misunderstand, you were very grateful for what he gave you, but to be direct… you were greedy, needy, and missed his dick.

no time for beating around the bush.

“like i said, with time, i’m a man of my word,” which, in other words, means he’s not having sex with you. tonight, at least. you can’t help the small frown that appears on your lips.

“how much time? a girl has needs, you know,” you rose your eyebrows and pointed towards the closed laptop. peter puffed under his breath, causing you to smirk.

“there is a party this saturday… at my place. you should come,” peter informs.

“should i come or do you want me to come?” it was a test.

“if this is some sexual innuendo, yes—”

“jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, peter!” you roll your eyes and softly shove his chest, but a smile never ceases from your face. that only causes him to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you harder against his firm body.

he must live at the gym.

“you started talking about sex first!”

he’s not wrong.

“of course, i want you to come to the party, y/n,” peter smiles as his eyes wandering over every inch of your face. in any other scenario, gorging eyes would’ve made you feel insecure, but peter’s made you feel all flushed and tingly. “you’re the only person i want to be there.”

your smile enlarges even more and a rush of heat crawls up your neck. instead of kissing his lips for being such a romantic goofball, you decide to pull off his backward cap and kiss his forehead. the rosy blush that cascades his pale cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed.

“see! everyone likes forehead kisses!”

just as you say those words, peter hears footsteps padding across the hallway. he really didn’t want to leave you again, but he also really didn’t want to get caught. he sighs and you notice his change of demeanor, causing another frown to arise on your lips.

“you have to go, don’t you?”

“i’m sorry—”

“it’s okay. i’m glad you came. i’ll see you on saturday,” you smile genuinely and kiss his forehead again. he smiles, but catches your luscious lips instead. peter almost forgot about the footsteps, always lost in the moment with you.

he is obsessed with kissing you.

however, the moment is too short for both of your liking. peter struggles to pull himself away from you, but does because each footstep in the hallway is like a warning. with a finally kiss to your forehead, peter smiles endearingly before approaching your window, ready to jump out.

“oh, and peter?” as his hands are on the window, he turns around to look at you. “don’t forget these.”

you fling your panties at him and his quick reflexes have no problem catching them. you take his hat that he left on your bed and lay it on top of your head. peter cannot describe the fond feeling that bubbles up in his chest at the sight of you in his apparel. he’s sure he would die seeing you in his clothes if he’s starstruck from you in his cap.

a familiar heated flush blossoms on his cheeks as he lightly shakes his head with a few chuckles.

“you’re ridiculously cute,” is the last thing he says before he slides out the window and jumps down onto the ground.

ridiculously cute. you’ve never been called that before. are you surprised that you like it a lot? nope.

you still don’t understand how he doesn’t break a few limbs from jumping out of a two-story house, but again, that’s just one of the many things he’s skillful at. you wondered what else he was capable of. like you said, he seemed like a man full of secrets. some people thought of curiosity as a curse, but you saw it as a pathway to unknown opportunities.

not even a minute after peter left, there’s a knock at your bedroom door. you answer, skeptical, and one of your friends walks in.

“i know we’re not allowed to have any guys here, so you get kind of lonely, but when you’re watching porn at midnight can you please turn it down? i could hear it at the end of the hall,” she rubs her eyes and elicits a yawn. your eyes widen and you swallow thickly at the idea of the entire house hearing you.

you really thought you did a good job at being quiet…

“uh, yeah, sure thing,” you half smile as you apologize and wish her a better goodnight. you flick your lamp off and shift comfortably on your bed.

you gaze at the ceiling and imagine peter’s face above yours. you envisioned his lips, his cute nose, and each precious beauty mark on his face. it was easier to fall asleep knowing what his phone number was, and that saturday was only three days away.

—

those three days could not have been longer. the party was your motivation to wake up every day and go to class, eager as ever. you only saw peter once at school and that was not enough to satisfy the yearning you had inside of you. that yearning was also like an alarm clock that sprung you out of bed at eight a.m. on saturday.

you knew you had hours to waste, so you did all the things you had been procrastinating on: laundry, tidying up, few assignments due next week, and you even dusted parts of the house. yeah, you were that bored.

you weren’t sure what time the party started, but you would probably be able to tell from your window. you had no idea what you were going to wear even though you were thinking about it since wednesday. you believed you had a good sense of style, at least to your liking, but you don’t have all the clothes that you wish you had. living on a college budget wasn’t easy, but you made do.

at this point, it was only two in the afternoon, and you were about to run into the wall until your head was bleeding just to waste more time. this was the downside to having a ridiculously big crush on someone; the inescapable waiting. when crushing, time seems prolonged when you’re without them. but when you’re with them, the world seems to stop completely. it’s like nothing matters but just you two.

you remembered back to wednesday when peter was sitting on your bed and holding you snug against his body while you talked about such a mundane thing like a party invite. you could never erase the feeling of his kiss, his lips forever etched onto yours. the kiss felt like hours, but it was merely a minute before he had to pull away. you imagined what it would be like to just be with him without worrying about anything else. these daydreams cause the yearning in your chest to expand like a balloon, which is never going to satisfyingly explode until you’re in his arms again.

without making a big deal out of it, you needed a good outfit. so, you knocked on one of your “sister’s” doors. you weren’t a fan of the term “sorority sisters,” especially because none of these girls felt like sisters to you. yes, you were all decent friends who went to parties and went out to eat once a month together. but you weren’t as close to them as you were with your friends back at home. you missed them, but you’ve all moved on with your lives.

violet answers with a cheery come in and you walk into her room. you hint that you’re looking for a nice dress for the party tonight.

“i’m glad you came to me first,” she smiles as she stands up from her bed. she heads toward her closet, which is practically pouring out clothes that would laugh at yours. she had so many colors and choices, it was almost overwhelming and you weren’t even the one really choosing. “so. who’s the guy?”

“what? who said anything about a guy?”

“the fact that you want a nice dress for a frat party. you’ve never cared before, so it has to be a guy. so who is it?”

“it’s no one in particular,” you lie easily as you sit on her bed. she sifts through each dress in deep thought.

“so, you want a nice dress to catch any guy’s attention? i don’t buy it,” violet shakes her head, causing her long, black hair to wave.

not that you really care if she believes you, but what’s a believable lie? you know she’ll probably nag you about it the entire night if you don’t give her a valid excuse.

“if i’m being honest, i’m trying to, you know,” you raise your eyebrows high, motioning your hands as she whips around to face you. she nods as a knowing smirk grows on her lips. you weren’t technically lying–you did want to get laid, but you only had one person in mind that could do the job.

“i see. that’s all you needed to say,” she flips through more dresses before pulling out a short red one that makes your eyes widen. it looked nice, too nice, and you didn’t want to ruin anything she had because you’d probably spend the next few months paying to replace it. “let’s get you ready.”

“but the party is in–”

“nuh uh, we’re getting ready now. also, we’re making it into a costume.”

–

for once, you’re glad you listened to violet about getting ready early because it was already six o’clock by the time you guys were both finished. you somehow gave in to the idea of her dolling you up into some kind of sexy spider woman? you didn’t really know. she thought the red and blue accented your skin nicely. violet did what she wanted. you didn’t even plan on wearing a costume in the first place, so you didn’t really mind.

your hair was down and wavy. you had her short red dress on and white fishnet tights. she also gave you royal blue heels. she painted black webs on your eyes with eyeliner while you wore a matching red lipstick. it was a lot more than you expected to see on yourself when you looked in her vanity mirror. hopefully, the look is as attractive and alluring as violet says it is. meanwhile, violet dressed as “slutty catwoman” (her words, not yours).

and yes, violet was going. everyone at mit would be going. it was one of those annual parties that's been going on for years, even before your class was there.

you enjoyed that; traditions and routines. they created memories and showed the change through each generation. thinking back, you bet your ancestors would die of a heart attack if they saw the way you were dressed and the things people did at these parties. but none of those thoughts stopped you from leaving the sorority house and walking across the street to the frat party.

you hadn’t even walked in yet, and the music was booming throughout the neighborhood. through the blinds that failed to close, you could see the technicolor lights flashing in redirection. cars of every shade were parked for probably miles down the street, and you knew as the night went on the number of people would only increase.

violet walked in front of you, strutting through the door like she owned the place. you followed behind her almost cowardly, but you weren’t really looking for everyone’s attention anyway. just one.

however, you forgot that the whole reason violet believed you were wearing this dress in the first place was for that exact reason. so, when she realized your shyness, she turned around and shook all your nerves out of you. literally. she shook your shoulders until you were woozy and nearly stumbling over your heels (you are now wishing you wore sneakers). it was like you were already tipsy by the time she was done.

she dragged you towards the kitchen without any words, seeming as though you wouldn’t be able to hear them over the blaring music and loud chatter. bottles of liquor decorated the marble countertop along with blue and red solo cups, trashed like a 90’s high school movie. violet grabbed the first bottle she saw, pouring the dark liquid into a cup she somehow snagged.

“your turn,” she shoves the bottle and cup towards your body as a stranger bumps into you from the back. the place was getting packed, making it hard to find anywhere to breathe. “some liquid courage.”

“i’m okay. i will later, though,” you rejected, not liking the idea of being drunk when you had a goal in mind. by the end of the night, you really wanted to be in peter’s bed. but you hated the idea of being drunk while having sex, especially when you wanted to enjoy it. you only indulged in drunk sex when you really needed to get off and one; didn’t want to remember what happened, or second; didn’t want it to last longer than that night. mostly the latter.

you know what it feels like to be with peter, and you craved to feel like that again. just thinking about him made you feel a thousand different kinds of wonderful; heart racing, stomach swirling, core burning. you knew the second you found him it would be hard to keep your hands away.

–

peter finally decides to shuffle down his stairs for the first time tonight. when the roaring music began an hour ago, he knew the party had, too, but he didn’t feel like going down yet. he couldn’t help but peek out his blinds in his bedroom, waiting to see you crossing the street.

he swears he was in his bedroom for at least an hour, occasionally peeking out the window, impatiently waiting for your arrival. with a slight frown on his face, he realizes that you might not be coming.

why would you?

peter assumed that you just now noticed how creepy it was for him to sneak into your bedroom. twice. maybe all your smiles and kisses were just silent pleads to make him leave the room faster. but your laugh seemed so genuine, and the sweet, little noises that you muffled under your palms were from real pleasure. right?

you were moaning his name.

he imagined you strutting across the street in a jaw-dropping dress, one that would send him into a frenzy. but you would be too humble and would shrug it off like you were the most average person on earth. peter would scoff and take you into his arms and drag you up into his room. then he would admire you until you believed you were the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.

open mouth kisses etched on your naked body. bites and pinches of tease. your sweet hums and delicately broken moans. nails clawing into his tough skin greedily. his voice guiding and praising you while yours is disheveled in pleasure.

god, he’s so in his head. he’s so far gone. and he barely knows you.

like a daydreaming idiot, he slaps the side of his head a few times to get his brain back into reality. he stares at his appearance in the mirror, silently motivating himself to have a good night whether or not you show up.

taking a deep breath, he finally exits his bedroom. of course, the music is booming and the place is already as crowded as a concert. peter trails down the stairs, but stops midway when he sees the top of your head.

is that you? how did he miss you?

moving swiftly down the steps, he weaves his way through the crowd, his fake glasses nearly slipping down his face. multiple people try to stop and chat with him, but he doesn’t indulge for long, having a clear destination in mind.

but, just when he reaches the kitchen, you’re gone.

he swears he just saw you. maybe he’s going crazy.

releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, peter pushes through a few more bodies before reaching the sliding glass door. he squeezed himself outside and inhales. when you’re in a house full of sweaty, drunk people smoking weed, you become more grateful for the fresh air.

he removes his glasses and tucks them into his neckline. his eyes gaze at the backyard’s minuscule decorations, and then to the sky. he stares at the stars as they wink at him, reassuring that everything will be alright. he wishes that the town won’t need saving tonight and that everyone will be on their best behavior. he hopes that you’ll come to the party, even if it doesn’t end with you in his arms.

even though that’s all he really wants.

“peter?” a voice speaks, and the sound was so elegant and soft that he thought the stars themselves were talking to him. he forces himself to blink a few times before spinning around to face you.

he nearly faints when he sees your costume.

short red dress, white tights, blue heels, black webs. you were dressed as spider-man, or spider girl, and you looked absolutely fucking stunning. you would be the death of peter. seriously, he thinks he might pass out from lust and admiration looking at you. you were just so drop-dead gorgeous, he couldn’t believe it.

maybe the stars were on his side tonight. unless they wanted to kill him…

“are you okay?” your soft voice of concern walks straight up to him, delicate hand resting on his shoulder.

“y-yeah,” peter stutters before coughing. is it surprising that he’s already half hard? a small blush cascades his pale cheeks. “you look… really fucking good.”

there’s no dancing around it.

now, familiar heat warms your neck, cheeks, and ears at his compliment. his voice was low, so only you could hear it over the screaming music, and it was laced with a small growl that had your stomach flipping. your hand fell from his shoulder.

“thanks,” you couldn’t think of what else to say, but then you looked at his outfit, which was little to none. actually, he was wearing normal clothes. peter was probably the only person at the party without a costume. “i guess i had to go all out since you decided not to wear anything. it’s your party and you didn’t think to dress up?”

peter laughs, breaking any invisible tension that might have been there. god, you loved his laugh. it was so childlike and full of joy, that you couldn’t help but smile.

“i have a costume. hold on,” peter puts on his glasses.

“if you say you’re a hot nerd—”

“nuh uh, i’m a super hot nerd,” he then rips the buttons off half of his flannel, presenting the superman symbol on his chest. rolling your eyes, it was your turn to laugh. your hand covers your face at his silliness as you lean against the nearby wall for support.

“you’re such an idiot.”

“i can’t be a nerd and an idiot, angel.”

“somehow, you make it work,” you both chuckle with huge smiles on your faces, unable to look away from each other.

“hey, dickwad,” flash abruptly appears from the sliding glass door that you two were standing by. he was dressed as spider-man, which nearly made peter cry laughing out of irony when he first found out this morning, but he kept that to himself. “—oh, hey, y/n. nice costume! at least someone has taste.”

“superman is a great superhero—”

“whatever, dude. at least spiderman is real!” flash shouts before parading away, repeating the statement to his next victims that will hear him.

“what do you have against spider-man?” you ask, leaning against the rough wall by just your arm. you were too afraid to have the dress touch it, in fear of ripping or ruining it.

“nothing,” peter shrugs.

“oh, c’mon,” you shove at his shoulder playfully. “just say you don’t believe in him. it’s okay.”

“what! of course, i believe in him, he’s not santa claus.”

“oh my god, santa isn’t real?!” you pretend to be shocked, hands slapping your cheeks. peter lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before nonchalantly grabbing your hand. your heart speeds up in your chest at his simple movement while your breathing halters.

and just like that he’s in control.

“do you want to get a drink?” peter’s thumb plays with the skin of your knuckles while he waits for your answer. but you can’t think of anything right now besides the soft caress being tattooed onto you.

“no, i’m not in the mood to drink tonight,” you replied, hoping that gave peter a hint at how you wanted the night to go. peter wasn’t as stupid as most guys, so you have high hopes that he understood the foreshadow.

“well, what are you in the mood for?” his voice was low again, speckles of lust wavering in it. he takes a step closer to you, and you can’t help but lay flat against the wall. you weren’t even thinking about the condition of the dress anymore. you swallowed as your stomach burned in anticipation.

“somewhere quiet,” your eyes flickered between his darkening eyes and his pink lips.

“it won’t stay quiet as long as you’re there,” a cheeky smile rises up on his lips as heat floods through your body. you hit his shoulder lightly, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

following him and his contagious smile, peter drags you through the crowds of people. there were more people in the house than when you arrived, but you’re not surprised. the upstairs section of the frat was basically off-limits to most people, unless you really had to go to the bathroom and the downstairs one was taken. you’ve been to the house a few times, but you’ve never stayed long enough to go upstairs.

but tonight everything is different.

unlike your wooden floors, peter’s are carpeted, so you’re walking very carefully on your heels. when you reach the top step, your calves are slightly burning from the exercise.

looking both ways, peter leads you towards his bedroom at the end of the hallway, hands intertwined. it felt secretive, and a part of you liked it. he closes the door right when you got inside, locking it quickly. but while he’s doing so, your hands release from his to explore his room. he rushes to clean his messes books.

peter had a gray and black color scheme that was alluring. his dark gray sheets looked soft and plush, and you could imagine yourself sleeping in them every night. were you getting ahead of yourself? maybe. you barely knew him, but you felt like you’ve known him forever. you glance around his room some more, trying to get to know him.

he had two band posters; led zeppelin and guns n’ roses. you didn’t expect the second one, but it impressed you. his desk was scattered with textbooks and papers like he had just been studying. turning around you see his two-mirror closet. it was slightly ajar, letting you see a few boxes.

“what’s in the boxes?” you ask, slowly creeping your way towards them. you don’t miss peter’s eyes widening slightly and his cheeks heating up. now you have to know.

“n-nothing important,” peter scratches the back of his neck, and if he’s trying to hide something, he’s doing a horrible job at it. on the sides of each box were black handwriting.

“trophies and medals,” you read aloud, inching your way towards the door, “books—”

“y/n, don’t!” peter exclaimed nervously with a hand reaching out to stop you, causing you to turn around and eye his expression. he swallowed thickly, praying you didn’t open the box. his anxiety was at an all time high. “there’s… personal stuff in there.”

“okay, okay. you don’t want anyone to know you have sexy magazines,” you rolled your eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “i get it. i’m not jealous.”

“yeah…” peter’s cheeks don’t cool down, still red and warm. for some reason, he senses the awkward tension arising in the atmosphere around you both, and he doesn’t know how to tame it. you both know what you want now, but it’s hard to bring it up without being so forward.

“did i tell you that you look good in glasses?” you speak after the few seconds of silence. you get yourself comfortable on the edge of his bed, unstrapping your heels from your already sore feet. you groan. “feels so much better.”

“thanks,” peter joins with a never-ending blush, sitting next to you. he’s itching to touch you.

why was it so much easier when he broke in?

he turns to face you and stares at your eye makeup. you had little black webs on the corner of your eyes. for some strange reason, the idea of you dressing up as him really turned him on. even if you didn’t know it was him.

“peter,” you said a bit breathlessly. your heart was racing with anticipation and lust. he hadn’t even noticed you were staring right back at him. you could look at each other for hours, but you really wanted more. needed it. subconsciously, you were both leaning forward towards your lips.

“yeah?” peter’s gaze never faltered. his honey brown eyes darkened to black.

“i brought something for you,” his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes, curious.

“it’s not even christmas yet,” he smiles, “and what’s that?” you leaned closer to him, your lips hovering over his ear.

“it’s a surprise,” you whispered seductively, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. he doesn’t hesitate to rub the supple skin covered by fishnet, warm and smooth.

when you pull away just the slightest, peter crashes his lips to yours. the kiss was as passionate as your feelings for him, erupting your anticipation and nerves in small gasps. he shifts you over to his lap, so you’re straddling him. instantly, you buck your hips into his crotch, desperate for more than a heated kiss.

your heart is thrashing in your chest and there’s a familiar burn in the lower part of your stomach. your hands roam his brown hair, exploring his locks like it’s new territory. except it’s not. you’ve never felt like you’ve known someone so well without even knowing them that well. the chasing, the waiting, the wanting, the needing, the wondering—it was the strangest feeling, and you were addicted to it.

you pop your lips off of peter, puffy and pink. you both take a second to breathe before you start kissing down his neck. you’re not shy with your teeth, leaving marks on his tough skin that’s shielding layers of muscle.

when you get to his collarbone, you nearly whine because he still has his flannel and shirt on. you swear you’ve never been more horny or desperate in your life.

“relax, sweet girl,” peter reassures, petting your hair while you look up at him. “we have all night.”

just tonight? you thought. what about the other nights? and days?

after a soft sigh, you nod and begin unbuttoning his flannel. your hands are a bit shaky from all the anticipation and the rapid beat of your heart. of course peter notices.

“are you alright?” he questions softly, being the caring guy he is.

“yeah, just nervous, i guess,” you answer honestly because he makes it easy to. he’s comforting and he cares.

so why are you nervous?

but instead of asking you why, he says, “me too.”

after you undo the last button and gently remove his flannel, you delicately smile at him. it was so pretty, peter couldn’t help but smile too. you tug on the end of his superman t-shirt, and he yanks it off. and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his immaculate figure. it was sculpted to perfection, as if he was given his body from some drug. or maybe even the gods.

his hand raises to caress your supple cheek, causing you to stare at his face before he’s kissing you again. it started off sweet and gentle, like how peter saw you. but it didn’t take long for it to be rougher and full of lust. peter could feel his jeans tightening underneath you, and he wasn’t stupid enough to confuse the scent of your arousal with perfume or something.

trying again, your lips go to trail down peter’s neck again. his breath is wavering our sighs of pleasure as you lick and nibble his skin.

“gonna tell me that surprise?” peter asks, hands crawling up to the back of your dress. he’s sure to be careful as he drapes the straps down, the top slowly sliding down as you make out with his chest. you push peter’s body down so he’s laying flat on the bed, not answering him. “not gonna answer?”

you weren’t. you didn’t have time for all the things you wanted to do with him. all the things you wanted him to do to you. maybe you were too far gone to think it would take more than a night to be fulfilled by peter. more than two. more than a week? maybe a month. you’d keep going until you’re sick and tired, but you don’t think you could ever get sick or tired of peter parker.

lost within the feeling of his body, you barely comprehend when he flips you dramatically over. his hard body hovers above yours, your dress barely hiding your peaked nipples.

“i ask you a question, baby,” he husks, breath fanning over your skin and traveling toward your ear. a shiver scatters up your spine and a spark of lust fires in your clit.

“you have to wait and see,” you answered breathlessly, a smirk rising on your face.

a dark color covers his eyes. peter doesn’t like not knowing something, so he’s desperate to figure out your little “surprise.”

with little to no effort, violet’s dress is tugged all the way down your body. he tosses it gracefully onto his bedroom floor, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he gazes over your body. he hasn’t seen you since wednesday and he was craving you like crazy. he thought he was going to go insane. but as he stares down at your figure adorning white fishnets sexily, he finally knows what it’s like to go crazy.

“is this my surprise? because, fuck, you look like a prize.”

you giggle as his rough fingertips trail down your torso. your nipples ache from neglect and the chilly october air that somehow breezes through the room. your body arches up into his touch, needing him badly. maybe you should just tell him the surprise.

but wouldn’t it be so much better if he just found it himself?

“can i unwrap my present?” peter teases with a cheeky smile, nudging at the waistline of your fishnets. you know that the second you open your legs he’s going to see your wetness leaking from the fabric.

“yes, peter,” you can’t help but laugh.

“do you care if i rip them?”

“what?”

“can i rip them?”

“i don’t—” the quiet sound of stretching and ripping cuts you off. he tore your fishnets. well, violet’s fishnets. “peter!”

“too late. i’ve never been good at unwrapping gifts,” he quickly kisses your cheek in a sweet apology, “luckily, i’m pretty good at taking care of them.”

you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t help but smile like a little kid. as he makes his way down your body again, he widens your legs and sees his surprise. your heart throbs just like your aching cunt.

“ah, so that’s my surprise,” he grumbles. it’s hard for him to keep it together right now.

peter stares darkly at the small purple toy peeking out from your bare pussy. you had no panties on, which in peter’s eyes, seemed ironic. from the top of his eyes, he sees the tiny smirk creeping up onto your lips.

his hand crawls up your leg until it reaches the soaking folds of your throbbing cunt. he pets your slit delicately, like you’d break if he fully touched you. you might. even from that simple touch, you were squirming underneath him, silently begging for more.

“how long has this been keeping you full?” he questions, curious, “is this what you’ve been using while i was gone?”

“mhm,” you hum when his fingers find your puffy clit, throbbing with desire. you leaked all around the purple toy, wetness gushing from you.

“look at you. fucking soaked. what made you this wet? was it the toy?” peter circles your clit faster, making your breath falter. you try to keep your eyes strained on him, but the feeling is just too incredible to focus on anything else. “answer me.”

“n-not the toy,” you stutter with breathlessness. a wavering moan elicits from you.

“then why are you so wet?” he taunts, and the low level of his voice floods over your body just right. you clench needily around the toy right in front of him, causing him to growl.

“you! nothing makes me wet like you do,” you admit head falling back on the pillow as his rough pace gives in. he’s satisfied with your answer, so he goes to a full, fast rhythm.

you’re so dazed with your orgasmic chase that your body rumbles as it nears. to make matters more intense, peter testingly pushes the small button on the bottom of the toy. it springs to life, vibrating your entire insides electrifingly. a broken moan escapes your swollen lips, and you just pray it’s hidden behind the heavy beat of the party music.

your legs shake in his hands as his head lowers. you’re so close to your high and then he does even more? you swear you were going to explode.

his challenging mouth sucks harshly on your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on earth. instead of the bed sheets, your hands find their way to his soft hair, tucking the roots with triumph.

you’re breathless and you’re close. so, so close. you can see your orgasm in front of you like a sunset and you’re riding straight into it on a horse.

“peter!” you cry when he nibbles on your clit, a smirk pressed against you. it was nice to release your moans without having to muffle them down. your core tenses like never before, overwhelmed by the extreme pleasure. “i’m coming—oh, fuck, please let me come!”

“go ahead, sweet girl,” he pops off of you and replaces his mouth with his thick fingers. “give it all to me.”

so you do. you release every tension within you that was holding you back. with eyes screwed closed, your back arches from the high. the wetness squeezes out of you while peter eases you through it. he switches off the vibrator and puts it somewhere besides you on the bed.

he lowers his head to clean up the mess with delight. when he comes back up, the grin on his face is toothy and contagious. you reflect it back, wondering how you got so lucky. how were you lucky enough for your intruder to be peter parker?

“you okay, angel?” peter asks, thumb caressing your heated cheek bone with concern. you’re melting into his touch, hoping to be a part of him forever. you wouldn’t mind.

“yeah, just… thinking.”

“good or bad?”

“i’ll tell you later,” you smile as you recall all the small thoughts you have of peter. peter rolls his eyes dramatically as your hands rub down his chest.

“but… i was wondering if i could be on top? just wanna try it. i need it,” you stare into his eyes and patiently wait for an answer. you’ve never been on top before, but with peter it seems like it would be really fun.

“i don’t know. do you want me to die?”

you laugh, forcing you to look away from his brown eyes. you push peter off the bed until he’s standing and ask him to take off his pants. when he’s completely naked, he goes to lean against his headboard, ready for you to sit on him. you crawl over to him as he puts on a condom from his bedside table.

“ready, baby?” he massages your upper arms.

“you’re being too nice, peter,” you note as you throw your legs over his hips. you didn’t actually know what you were doing, but confidence is key. if you just pretended like you knew, it would look like it, right?

“what? do you want me to be mean, baby? ‘cause i can be mean.”

“don’t think you’re really capable.”

“we’ll see then, doll,” peter says deeply as his hand grips your hip tightly.

as you slowly lower your body with peter’s guidance, you feel his tip enter you. it was a different feeling than being on the bottom. you had more control, but you had to do more work. you’re not sure if you cared to have so much free reign. you kind of preferred when peter took the wheel.

you rocked your hips forward, feeling his hard cock fully inside of you. it was stretching you completely out. you couldn’t get up if you tried. there was a pain mixed with pleasure that filled you up so good.

“c’mon, y/n. fuck yourself on my cock,” he growled in encouragement as you attempted to lift your hips up. you barely move because you’re squeezing around his cock so tight, like if you let go you’ll die. peter lightly moans as you squeeze him, wondering if he’ll die right here inside of you.

“i-i can’t,” you whine.

“you can’t? thought you needed it?” he taunts. peter can be mean if he really wanted to,

“it’s too hard.”

“you’re not even trying. good girls at least try. don’t you want to be a good girl?”

peter thrusts up into you once to make you moan, which works successfully. you spit out your broken moan with your hands clawing his biceps.

“barely moved and you’re already moaning. pathetic, really. you asked me to be on top and you can’t even take it.”

you clench around his prick at his degrading words. you didn’t think he could be mean, but you were wrong. his words were just the right amount of degrading that made you weak and so, so wet.

“look at that. my girl’s getting off on words like pathetic,” my girl. the two words nearly cause you to come right then and there. then peter thrusts up into you with purpose in each movement. as one hand grips your hip, the other floats up to your breast and fingers your nipple. he flicks and tweaks at it, causing you to arch into his touch. “what about slut? do like when i call you my slut?”

“fuck, peter,” you groan at his dirty talking. with each pump, you would feel every inch of him inside of you, filling you up completely. although you’re so full, you needed it harder and faster, and it was going to be difficult to get it from this angle when you’re not being much help.

before the begging words even slip from your mouth, peter is flipping you both over with ease. he doesn’t waste a second to slide back into you, causing your body to erupt in flames.

he begins with hard pumps, slowly gaining speed. but once he’s going fast, you could barely focus on your senses. you swear you could hear colors.

the sounds of your moans, shrieks, and screams echo throughout his bedroom. you don’t care if people could hear you. you hoped they could. you hoped they knew how good peter was destroying you, so they knew you were his.

peter hoped the same thing.

“so, so good, peter,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.

“yeah? such a slut for my cock, huh?” he teases, voice low and lustful. “so cockdumb that you couldn’t even ride me.”

“i-i can do it,” a breathless moan escaped you, but you were too floaty to understand what you were really saying.

“oh, now you can do it? well, it’s too late, sweetheart.”

peter’s pace doesn’t falter. he makes sure to make every thrust count as he hits every angle. you cry out in bliss, chasing your orgasm like your life depends on it.

“i’m close,” the whine that elicits from you is groggy and strained from how sore it feels. you can’t even imagine how raw it would be from taking him down your throat…

for another time.

his rough hand trails down between you until he’s pressing his hand down on your stomach. with every shift of his cock he can feel himself moving through you. as he puts more pressure, you both collectively moan at the feeling.

“can you feel me? can you feel me deep inside of your little cunt? do you feel me right here?” peter drags your trembling hand to place it on your lower torso, right where he’s nonstop thrusting into you.

“yes, peter! fuck, you’re so big. i feel you in my tummy,” you clamp around his cock, your orgasm right around the corner. “please, please let me come. i’ve been good.”

“have you? you couldn’t even ride me even when i let you.”

“i’m sorry, peter–please. need to so bad,” your eyes are squeezed shut as you beg peter. his hand that was on top of yours drifts down to your clit. he stimulates it by rubbing in tight circles that have you seeing stars. every muscle is in your body is screaming and pleading for release while he overstimulates you more. “want to be good!”

“yeah? want to be a good girl?” a needy moan elicits from you. “then come for me. right now while you’re squeezing me.”

the air surrounding you turned wistful and cloudy. your body rumbled and erupted as you orgasmed, shaking with desire as it poured out of you. you thought the first time that you and peter fucked was the best sex you’ve ever had, but after tonight, you’ve never been more wrong. maybe it’s because you two are a little more comfortable with each other. maybe it’s because you told him to be a little mean. whatever it was, it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. because it was more than sex. it felt like more.

peter’s orgasm trails yours, making sure that you come first. his thrusts were slowier and sloppier as he pants out heavy breaths. before exiting you, his hand reaches up to caress your face.

“okay?” his voice was a bit raspy as he came down from his high. his arms were on either side of your head, and you felt safe and protected.

“more than,” you smiled dopily at peter, whose eyes were twinkling. reflecting a smile, peter begins to pull out of you. “do we have to?”

“have to what?” he stops his movements, half-way out of you. you hated the empty feeling that started to flood over you because you knew he’d leave soon. well, you would leave soon.

“leave. can’t we just stay in here all night?” you question. a part inside of you was scared for his rejection, that he was going to kick you out and then that was it. but the other half of you had the courage to ask because you knew it would all be fine.

“i would–”

“oh, there’s a but coming.”

“but i need to eat. and so do you,” he pulls out of you and rids out the condom within a few seconds. you don’t move from your flat position on the bed, feeling the cold waves of loneliness flooding over you already. peter had a tingle that you wanted more. you wanted to stay, but you were too nervous to ask. you were good at giving him big hints, though.

he loves the idea of you staying. laying with you and hearing your soft breaths as you sleep. cuddling close to be warm from the cold air. peter’s heart lurches at the wonderful thought.

peter reaches for his clothes and dresses. you bend over and slip on the dress, without the fishnets. your hair was probably a mess, but you didn’t care because the only person you cared about seeing tonight was peter.

once you’re dressed with shaky hands, peter stands in front of you and rests his hands on your shoulders. delicately, he caresses your neck as you practically pur into his warm touch. you felt your heart rate pick up, even though he was just inside of you.

“and then, if you’d like, we can come back up here,” he presses his chest against yours as his voice softens, “and we can lay in bed, watch a movie, and not worry about being caught because we don’t have rules like you do.”

although your heart was beating fast already, you’ve never felt more comfortable. he made you feel reassured, and you couldn’t ask for more. with a smile rising to your lips, peter’s heart skips a beat at the wistfulness cascading throughout his body. your lips were soft and kissable, your skin was glowing with an orgasmic shine, and your makeup was a bit smudged, but you still looked like peter’s perfect girl.

his girl.

“wait, before we eat, i have to get some stuff at the sorority.”

“okay,” he says, “put this on. it’s freezing and your wearing practically nothing.”

he throws a hoodie at you and you catch it with blinking eyes. it as a small gesture, but your heart was melting. you slip it over your head without any question. and then he’s dragging you out of the extremely loud and crowded house. no one says or questions anything, and you’ve never been more glad to be so invisible.

–

“what are you doing? come on!”

“what if they see me?”

“there’s no one home!” you whisper-shouted at peter as you walked through the door. there was a key under the flower pot that worked great when you forgot your key.

it’s kind of ironic that you are both sneaking into your sorority. it’s a full circle moment.

you both tiptoe through the clean, white house. peter nearly takes his shoes off because he’s scared he’ll leave dirt footprints in his trail. he really does not want to be seen in this house knowing what happened to flash the last time they snuck in. but it’s peter’s job to be stealthy, so he hopes he could keep up the good work.

you make it up the stairs and head straight for your room. peter remembered exactly which one was yours, now that he’s been in it two times somehow. once you’re both inside, he shuts the door behind him quietly like someone would hear him.

“why did we just tiptoe all the way up here? there’s no one even here!” you say in a normal level voice as a chuckle follows after. peter laughs with you as you search your drawers for some clothes.

“i feel it’s only right to bring the mit one, right?”

“definitely.”

“wait, did you leave the vibrator on your bed?”

“uh… yeah. sorry.”

“peter!” your skin grows warm with the idea that someone might stumble into his bedroom and find it just lying there. you cringe at yourself.

you pack a small overnight bag with your most needed essentials. peter sits patiently on your bed, practically swinging his feet as he analyzes your bedroom. it was simple with a few picture frames of family and friends. your room was basically plain white with a few pink and blue items scattered around the place. in all, it was you. he couldn’t think of a better sorority room to fit your vibe, your personality better than this room. it was naturally gorgeous, like you.

even though peter was looking around your room, he was still watching you pack. he observed when you folded a pair of night shorts with the mit t-shirt and even threw in an outfit for the next day just in case you two went out. but you were missing something.

“okay, let me grab my toothbrush,” you quickly left the room and in no-time were back. “let’s go. i’m hungry now.”

“but you’re forgetting something,” peter says. you blink, wondering what you might be forgetting.

“but i grabbed everything–” you watch as peter glides towards your dresser drawers. he opens the top left and immediately finds your colorful panties and underwear. your eyes widen in embarrassment, even though he’s seen you naked multiple times. something about him staring at your undergarments was just a little more… vulnerable?

peter snatches two different colors, a royal blue one and a vibrant red one, similar to the first one he saw you in. of course, he picked these colors purposely.

“which one? i’m thinking the blu–”

“what are you doing! that’s my underwear!” you tried to reach for them dangling in his hands, but he was way quicker than you. it’s like he knew before you even moved.

“well, i think at this point it’s kind of a tradition for me to take one, no? i couldn’t take them earlier because you weren’t wearing any!”

your neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment. yeah, you may have been confident when in the moment, but talking about it just made your face hot. peter always knew how to get you going. to get quickly out of this situation, you grumble, “blue.”

and with that, you were on your way back to the frat house. the party was still going strong and surprisingly, no one asked where either of you were. when you and peter walked through the door, people just acted like you’ve been there the whole time. but they were also drunk and high, so was it really that shocking?

within the first few minutes of you and peter being in the congested house, you both look at each other with a knowing look. there was no way you two could eat in this populous, mess of a place.

“diner?” peter shouts over the blaring music. he swore flash turned it up to full volume, even when peter told him specifically not to do that.

“exactly what i was thinking,” you reply loudly as you squeeze your bodies through the crowd. peter slides his hand into yours as you shift through everybody. a spark of electricity nearly shocks you.

when you approach his car, you throw your bag at the bottom of your feet before dropping into his passenger seat. you both inhale and exhale the refreshing night time air. the house smelt like marjuana and sweat, but his car was scented with pine and fresh leather.

as he started the car, you two didn’t say anything. and it was perfect. it was comfortable. it was safe. you turn your head to look at peter, whose eyes were fighting between the road and you. your heart skips a beat that’s getting familiar as you smile softly. gently, your hands intertwine as you ride on to the diner.

your journey with peter started… differently than most. but you liked the idea of having a tradition with peter. sure, it may not be traditional, but it was yours. you would both have to create a fundraiser for all these panties he will be stealing because they’re not cheap!

is it really stealing if you know he’s taking them? whatever.

when people ask how you guys met, it’s going to be a funny story. how many people break into someone’s house as a dare and then fall in love with them? not many.

wait… love?

–

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. i could not be more grateful for the love on panty stealer. i never thought any of my writing would get this much notice, so thank you (times three) for all the likes, comments, and reblogs.

note: i won’t be making anymore full parts, however, i will do blurbs/drabbles of these two if requested!

taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @sylum @harrys-humble-housewife @blurazbabe @introverbatim @piperparker7 @graceberman3 @tommy-braccoli @fioooweeooweeeoo @conrad4life13

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#shawnxstyles #peter parker #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland smut #peter parker fics #peter parker fanfics #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fics #tom holland fanfics #peter parker one shot #tom holland one shot

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thesargasmicgoddess · 6 months

Text

Helllllllllo Monday!

I can't believe we are at Thanksgiving 2023 already! Where did the year go?

So incredibly grateful for some downtime this week. It has been a whirlwind, but amazing year.

And it's not quite over just yet 😉

I hope everyone has an amazing day ❤️

*I've been SO busy I haven't had time to cut my hair, so I currently have a bit of a rapunzel look 🤣 it's getting chopped off this week 🎉

#me #sargasmicgoddess #i woke up like this #morning light #I've missed shooting in this light #new content #top post

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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months

Note

*calmly*

Bestie, I'm gonna need Logan to invite Alex and Lily over to Florida for a big Sargeant family Thanksgiving 🙊

Thanksgiving in the 305 || LS2 {3}

Pairing: Logan Sergeant x fem!reader Summary: You have lots to be thankful this holiday and get to share the special occasion with even more people this year. Warnings: 18+ only, implied smut, fluff, lots of fluff WC: 3.4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

Monday, 20th November 2023 You had just walked through hell and it had been an absolute nightmare. By hell, you meant Walmart during the week of Thanksgiving. With another point scored on home soil Logan’s popularity seemed to explode overnight and the shopping trip had taken longer than expected after he signed some autographs and took photos with fans. Shopping wasn’t something you enjoyed on the quietest of days but knowing the amount of food prep you needed to do only left you more stressed.

“Relax, honey,” Logan soothed as he rubbed your shoulders with a smile. “We can do this. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

You eventually made it to the checkout with two laden trolleys and Logan did all the heavy lifting of the bags into the back of his Range Rover. Unfortunately you lost more precious prep time to the traffic that swarmed the city and the stress had you wringing your hands together until Logan took one in his.

“Sweetheart, I think you might be going a little overboard.”

You looked up from the pastry you were rolling out to weave into a lattice topping for the pumpkin pie. “What? No. No, I’m not. This is perfectly acceptable.”

“There’s twice as much as last year,” Logan stated, his lips a shade of deep purple from the berries he had stolen.

“We have more guests this year - special guests too.”

Logan’s lips perked up as he laughed. “I’ll let Dalton know you think he’s not special.”

“That is not what I meant,” you gasped, only forgiving him for the joke when kissed you sweetly. “I’ve never seen your principal outside of the races, or Alex and Lily. I’m nervous.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about. They are exactly the same outside of work.”

You chewed your lip as you nodded, hoping he wasn’t just trying to ease your worry. If he was right then you knew you would get along with them just like you had when you went to the races with Logan. You had been lucky enough to make it to most of his races after the summer break and Sooty even joined for the Triple Header rounds, but he missed out on the Vegas trip. The schedule was just too busy to have a dog in tow.

Since everyone was on the same continent, for the moment, you had invited Logan’s team mate and his team principal to join you for an early Thanksgiving. James was bringing his wife and daughter while Alex was coming with his girlfriend Lily. They had all been so supportive of Logan throughout the year that you wanted to show your appreciation before making your way to the final race in Abu Dhabi.

It was going to be the first year since being with Logan that you wouldn’t be at home on Thanksgiving but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to slack on hosting the event. If anything you were going to make it more special to make up for having it on a Tuesday.

Logan knew one thing that would help you relax while you were busy in the kitchen and after disappearing into the living room you heard the stereo system click on and Logan’s playlist filled the room. The upbeat intro to Hold On, We’re Going Home started and Logan reached you before Drake’s voice could, his hands finding your hips as he rested his chin on your shoulder and watched you work the dough.

All too soon he grew bored of just watching and his lips started to tease kisses along your neck. “You need to go for a run,” you murmured as you found your progress slowing. “I can’t concentrate with you doing that.”

“Doing what?” he asked innocently, the curve of his lips on your skin giving him away.

“Distracting me.”

“But it worked, look how relaxed you are now.” His arms curled around your waist as he swayed to the music and you joined him until his hand dipped beneath your shirt and warmed the soft skin on your stomach.

“Lo…” you groaned as you pushed him back with your hips. “Behave, please.”

“Cause you’re a good girl and you know it,” he teased in your ear with the song. “You act so different around me.”

You turned in his arms with a smile that he reflected and placed your palm over his chest. “You are going to ruin Thanksgiving dinner.”

Logan looked around the kitchen, every surface full of the food you just had to make final touches on in the morning. There was already more than enough to feed an army. “I don’t think you have to worry about dinner.” He reached behind you and placed a spare cover over the unfinished pie before pulling you flush against him. “And the pie can wait an hour.”

“An hour? I was thinking 10 minutes max,” you giggled as he grabbed your hips and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist naturally.

“Is that a challenge?” he dared as he carried you out of the kitchen. “I don’t mind spending the rest of the day proving you wrong, sweetheart.”

“Yes, wait, no, any other time, baby, but not today.”

Tuesday, 21st November 2023 - Thanksgiving Dinner You had never been happier that Logan had insisted on buying a house much larger than anything the two of you needed. Built for a large family, the kitchen had two full sized ovens and both were currently in use. The giant turkey filled one oven on its own and the other had its racks full of different dishes to keep them hot.

The other great thing about the home was that the stacker doors folded back in the living room to give a massive open space that flowed out into the patio and pool. You needed all that space with the guests that had arrived. Logan’s parents had come first. Mallika had insisted on arriving early so she could help you with the fresh food that couldn’t be pre-cooked and Michael had been ordered to help Logan stock the bar.

Next to arrive had been Dalton, Logan’s older brother, who came with a very happy Sooty after dog-sitting him while you were in Las Vegas. You had rushed out of the kitchen as soon as you heard his excited bark and grappled him into a tight cuddle before Logan wrapped his arms around you both.

“Hi, my baby,” you cooed as you scratched Sooty’s fur and kissed the top of his head. “Mommy missed you. You’re looking skinny, did uncle Dalt not feed you?” You rose to your feet at the laugh and greeted Dalton with a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“I would say anytime but he stole an Angus steak from my plate, twice.”

“Why do you think I came out here?” you said with a shake of your head. “There is no way I am letting him anywhere near the kitchen. Lo?”

“On it, honey,” he chuckled. “Come on, Soot, let's go play frisbee. You in, bro?”

You watched the brothers jog out to the lawn and separate to opposite ends and it wasn’t long before Michael joined his sons too.

It was another two Sargeant boys that came through the door with Logan’s aunt following with apologies for her son's lack of manners for skipping the doorbell. You waved the apology away as you gave her a hug. “It’s fine, Debbie. My mother always said doorbells are for salesmen and strangers, not family.”

“Your mother is a good woman,” Harry said as he came in with a large bouquet of flowers for you and a kiss. “You are more and more like her every day.”

You grinned at the compliment and inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers. “Thank you.”

When you first met Harry you had felt intimidated by the billionaire but you had quickly realised he was a kind, down-to-earth man who put family values first. It was one of the reasons he sponsored Logan and helped get him into Formula racing. He believed if he had the resources to help, then he had the responsibility to help. It was the same with Dalton’s NASCAR career.

The next arrival did use the doorbell and Sooty came inside to growl at the uncommon sound until you told him to stop being silly. Once the door was opened he recognised it was Alex and Lily on the doorstep and the protective nature changed to the playful wag of his tail. Sooty enjoyed the attention he got from the animal-loving couple for a moment before another duo stole his attention and he leapt off the porch to race down the driveway.

“Sorry, he saw my parents,” you said as you invited them inside and to the bar. “Now, Logan’s the mixologist in the house so if you want something more than a beer, a wine or whiskey neat then he’s your man.”

Once Lily had a glass of riesling and Alex an IPA beer, you made the introductions to the few members of his family they hadn’t met. Most of them had crossed paths at least once during the three US based Grand Prix’s this season so it was only Harry’s teenage boys and your parents who needed naming.

“I found some wanderers in your driveway,” your mother joked as she stepped into your line of vision and waved at the quickly growing Vowles family. “Oscar looks different, more mature.”

You looked at Logan’s old teammate who was just walking through the door and chuckled when he took his shoes off, the only one that ever did when he went inside other people's homes. “That’s what a year will do to a man,” you replied. “I don’t think you’ve seen him since last Thanksgiving, mom.”

“Not true, I saw him at Logan’s birthday.”

“Oh, okay, my bad, it's only been 11 months then,” you said with a laugh as you went to greet him and Logan’s team principal.

“She is absolutely adorable,” you gushed over the newborn in James’ arms. “I swear she’s grown and I only saw her a few days ago!”

“She’s put on another ounce since then,” the proud father said before holding her out to you. “Go on, I know this is what you’re really after.”

“I was just coming over to see if you needed a drink,” you lied as you reached for her, “but I’m not going to turn down baby snuggles.”

Logan’s eyes found you from across the room where he was talking with Alex and Oscar and he lost track of the conversation at the sight of you. The image of you holding a baby so comfortably made something crack in his chest and he knew you would be a natural when it came to motherhood, he just had to be patient for a few more years. You didn’t even notice his lingering stare as you pressed your nose to her soft hair and inhaled the new baby scent before cradling her closer.

“You know you are not getting her back until you leave,” you warned James, and he just smiled knowingly.

“I had a feeling that would be the case. Now Rachel and I can enjoy a few hours of free babysitting.”

“Absolutely anytime, any place. Go on, have a drink and chill out, or even a nap if you need. There’s plenty of guest rooms down the hall and a nursery too so you have nothing to worry about.”

“A nursery? Is there something Logan hasn’t told me?” he asked curiously.

You laughed as you shook your head. “Not yet, James. The house was furnished for a family sale when we bought it and one of the rooms was set up to be a nursery. We just never renovated it.”

“You two look really happy,” Alex broke through Logan’s wandering thoughts and he blinked twice before he snapped out of the moment.

“We are. She loves this, having a full house, lots of noise and company.” Logan smiled into his bottle as he tipped the cold beer back and watched as you flitted around the room topping up drinks and chatting with his family all the while managing to cradle his boss's baby safely. “Best thing I did was ask her to come with me. Makes the good days better and the bad ones easier, you know?”

Alex nodded sincerely and cast his eyes to Lily who was laughing at something Dalton said to her about his latest round of golf. Alex knew exactly what Logan meant.

Logan had always been open about wanting children, even more so when he was drunk, and he was always making plans for the future. He hoped to stay in F1 for as long as possible and he was especially happy that he had signed with Williams for another year, but after that he thought about moving into endurance racing as it was a less intensive schedule. With less commitments to work he would have more time to focus on starting a family, so you waited patiently and supported him in his choices after all the hard work you had seen him put in.

You continued on your way around the guests, oblivious to the way Logan’s eyes followed you the entire time. Eventually you reluctantly passed the sleeping babe over to your boyfriend knowing he would want to have some time with her too and the next part you needed two hands for. “Dinner is almost ready, if you want to start rounding everyone up into the dining room I’ll bring in the turkey.”

“I can come and help, sweetheart,” he offered but his face softened at the cutie in his arms. Your chest warmed at the sight and you shook your head, not wanting to disturb the moment.

“Between my mom and yours, there’s hardly anything left to do.” You left him with Alex and Oscar, passing by Lily and Dalton’s discussion about the best US golf courses, and found Sooty so he could be put in his kennel. You weren’t keen on having a repeat of his first Christmas when he broke the table leg trying to get scraps and the whole thing had crashed down. It had been a disaster that took a while before you could see the funny side but it still didn’t mean you could handle it happening again. “Come on, as soon as dinner is over you can have your freedom back.”

Sooty whined as you left him behind and you didn’t dare look back or you wouldn’t have the heart to leave him there. The sound followed you until you were inside and the noise of the guests swallowed his lonely cries so you could focus on the meal shared between friends and family.

Logan knelt beside the kennel and caught Sooty’s collar as he unhooked the chain and praised him for being a good boy. Dinner had been another one to remember for a long time to come and everyone was more than full as they settled around the extra large sofa inside. Traditionally, after dinner everyone would be feeling the liquor and reminisce on what they were thankful for before watching the Miami Dolphins game on the tv but since it was only a Tuesday there weren't any big teams playing.

Logan had a better way to end the perfect afternoon anyway.

“Sooty, where’s mommy?” Logan asked as he buckled his collar back in place and kissed the top of his head. “Go find mommy, go on, good boy.”

The quick moving ball of fur caught your attention and you just saved your glass of wine from being knocked off the coffee table before Sooty bounded over Lily’s shoes and landed at your feet. He barked twice and sat back on his heels, waiting as if he had been ordered to obey and was expecting a treat - except you hadn’t called him.

“Sooty, how did you escape your…” your words trailed off as you held his collar and watched the light catch on a diamond ring. The room fell silent as you looked up in time to see Logan lower himself onto one knee in front of you.

His deft fingers unbuckled the collar and slipped the ring off so he could hold it delicately in his hand. “I don’t need Thanksgiving to reflect on everything I’m grateful for this year,” he said softly and your heart beat so loudly you were certain everyone in the quiet room could hear it. “Since I found you, I’m thankful every damn day, and I would love to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much, if you’ll let me. Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t remember when you last took a breath and your throat seemed to clog with emotion, choking the word you wanted to scream. Logan’s lips began to curve up into a proud smile when you nodded your head and lifted your trembling hand for him.

“Yes,” you finally managed to whisper, before the cold band slipped onto your ring finger and your vision blurred with unshed tears of joy.

You didn’t hear the cheer that erupted, you didn’t hear their congratulations. All you heard was Logan whispering he loved you against your lips before he claimed them for the first time as your fiance.

Logan hadn’t let go of your hand since he put the engagement ring on it but eventually he couldn’t keep you all to himself and draped an arm across the back of your seat instead.

“This is gorgeous!” Lily gasped after she leaned forward to inspect the large rock on the ring. You didn’t miss the pointed look she sent Alex and wondered how long it would be until he took the same step. “So how did you two meet if Logan was in Europe racing?”

Logan grinned as he traced his fingertips across your shoulder and over your collar. “Her mom was my uncle’s secretary and when I was home for the break I dropped by his office to visit him, and then I kept dropping in because I knew she was always in the staffroom doing her homework. Not that she ever looked my way.”

“I looked, when you weren’t,” you admitted as your cheeks heated. “But I had to keep my head down so I could actually concentrate on my assignments. He was very distracting to look at, still is.”

Oscar smiled to himself since he already knew the story well over the years of friendship and double dates.

Alex chuckled and mirrored your cosy state with Lily opposite you. “So did he finally ask you out or did you have to take charge?”

“Actually Harry set us up,” you said with a smile in the oil magnate’s direction where he was talking to his wife. “I didn’t have a licence and when my mom got sick Harry had Lo take me to visit her. He went out of his way to pick me up after school every day for like two months. I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through that time without him.”

You turned your smile to Logan as he reached for his beer and took a long drink. If you were alone he would have whispered sweet affirmations in your ear about how strong you were and how he would always be there for you but with the present company and his ears turning pink he swallowed his words. But you still saw them in his proud smile and in his blue eyes.

“Okay, maybe I went a teensy, tiny, little bit overboard,” you admitted as you saw the leftovers filling the kitchen island after everyone had gone - the house was quiet once more.

You knew there was the temptation for Logan to say ‘I told you so’ but he just kissed your temple with a smile before he checked his watch and said. “I’ll get the containers.”

Although it was too late to go to Miami-Dade shelters tonight, it had become a tradition to take the leftovers around to them after a holiday. It would only go to waste with the two of you, especially since you were heading to Abu Dhabi in the morning.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” you asked when he returned from the garage with his arms full of takeaway containers.

“Once or twice,” he teased as he abandoned the containers to pull you into his arms, “but I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

“Good thing we’ve got the rest of our lives then.” You placed your hands on his shoulders and looked at the ring on your finger with fondness before staring into his ocean eyes. “I love you, Lo.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Always have, always will.”

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