#y/n × goth peter

[mariami478]

[yumyumka]

He's jealous.

[totallyanopossum]

Peter x y/n, well behaved quiet girl x class problem boy, roommate, awkward,cute

Why you

WC:1.8k

Link to story master post

Part 3, Dinner

Y/N- “ Peter, Peter, wake up”

Peter- “ huh”

Usually when she wakes him she's calling out to him from the kitchen but this time she sounds much closer and when he opens his eyes he sees she's standing over him. She's still in her pj's, doesn't have any makeup on, and her hair is still in her sleeping braid, and she looks tired, very tired. This new sight Is a break in the pattern and concerns him, bringing him to a fully awake state much faster than usual.

Peter- “ y/n are you okay”

Y/N- “ Feeling shitty been pushing to hard gonna stay home today so if your gonna go gotta get up”

Peter- “ you need me to pick up some meds or something”

Y/N- “ no just need to sleep”

She heads off back to her room to sleep the day away. In the back of her mind she wonders if Peter will be okay fending for himself for breakfast, she's been making all the meals and doesn't know if he's competent in the kitchen but her head hurts too much to make him food.

She doesn't have a cold, or an infection, she's just been pushing too hard lately and was worn herself to exhaustion. Causing multiple rail spike headaches, upset stomach, foggy slow mind, so so tired, and some depression thoughts slipping in, so today she'll take it easy and stay in bed.

Usually she makes an egg, cheese, and ham omelet for them, or a yogurt and granola thing but today he has to fend for himself so he makes toast with peanut butter. He had gotten spoiled with her always taking care of the meals, he used to have no problem with peanut butter toast but now he's nostalgic for her yogurt thingy that he was so suspicious of that first time.

All throughout the day he worries about her. What does feeling shitty and pushed to hard mean? She did look sick but no stuffy nose so what's the cause, he wonders if he's the cause. Does pushing to hard mean all the extra responsibilities of taking care of him, making all the meals, cleaning up, the extra laundry, having an extra person in the house. He really hopes he's not the cause, that makes him feel bad and guilty, he hasn't been pulling his weight that's gonna have to change.

He's so preoccupied thinking about her that when someone bumps into him in the hall, he doesn't get in their face and yell, or give them a proper beating, He just makes it quick, one swift punch sending them sprawled out on the hallway floor and he walks off.

On the bus ride home his leg won't stop bouncing, he's anxious to get home and check on her. He's also spending the ride looking up how to make chicken soup, tonight he's gonna make dinner. Sick people have chicken soup, even if it's not stuffy nose sick this is still probably the right choice, he hopes.

Luckily the walk from the bus stop and her place passes a mom and pop shop that's got a bit of everything including a deli. He stops by getting a rotisserie chicken, some pasta and carrots for dinner.

He gets home and looks around hoping to see her on the couch watching TV or on the balcony getting some air but she's not. He drops the groceries in the kitchen and knocks on her door.

Peter- “ Y/N”

Y/N- “ Peter”

He takes her response as a good enough to go into her room. It's dark, the main lights are off, only a small warm light on in the corner, her head must be hurting, he makes note to speak softly. She's laying in bed holding a stuffed animal, a stick on cooling patch on her forehead, hair still in the braid from last night, and her glasses on the nightstand. He makes his way to her bedside.

Y/N- “ did you have breakfast?”

The first thing she does is ask about him, if he'd eaten without her making his food. This makes him think that this really is his vault, her priority is caring for him and the extra weight has exhausted her.

Peter- “ I can fend for myself, how are you feeling”

Y/N- “ headache, tired, no energy to move”

Peter- “ are you hungry?”

Y/N- “ yeah, we could order something”

Peter- “ I'm gonna make dinner, bought groceries and everything”

Y/N- “ oh okay”

Peter- “ you don't have any allergies right?”

Y/N- “ nope”

Peter- “ I'll get you when dinners ready, just rest”

Y/N- “ thank you”

He decides to get an early start on dinner knowing he won't be as swift and efficient as her. He's always gone with simple foods he could eat quickly and get it over with, so tonight's a new adventure or more accurately trial. He follows the instructions to a t, using all his focus, not just because he is making her food and wants it to be good but because he wants to show her he can pull his weight and take some responsibility around the house.

He gets dinner made, sets the table and turns off most of the lights, going from dark to bright probably won't help her state.

Peter- “ y/n dinners ready”

A moment later she comes out, hoodie pull up to shield her from the lights she's expected to be on. She's pleasantly surprised that he turned down the lights. During their time living together she hadn't really learned much more above him, until today. Today she was learning he cares and is attentive enough to notice details.

The table is set, he even remembered to lay down pot holders, looks like he made soup. She sits and as she is about to reach for the ladle, Peter grabs it and serves the soup for her, he makes sure to give her lots of the chicken, noodles and carrots.

Peter being so kind to her, well not just her but being kind in general is a bit of a mind fuck. Yes he's never bullied her but he's also never done a characteristicly kind action either, he's always been neutral.

Y/N- “ th..thank you”

As much as Peter acting kinda is a head fuck for her, Peter hearing someone thank him is an ever bigger head fuck, a head punding if you will.

He can't form the words for a response, he just nods and makes a sound of agreement. He serves his own food and eats without making eye contact, he can't face her, he feels like an idiot, this is so out of his wheelhouse.

She's surprised by how good the food is, she expected she would have to lie, say it wasn't too salty, but the truth is it's perfectly balanced. She wonders how long he worked on it, and glances at his hands looking for band aids or niks but finds none but it does make sense he'd be good with knives.

He hopes she doesn't notice his leg bouncing under the table, or the way he's staring at his bowl. He hopes she likes the food, he was so worried about it being over salted and then worried it would be under salted and bland.

Her phone buzzes, it's the first time he's looked up as they both glance at it. She quickly ignores the call and aggressively shoves the phone in her pocket. Their eyes meet but this time she's the one who finds their bowl very interesting and stares down not wanting to address what just happened.

He wishes he had seen the caller Id, hoping for some explanation of why she shoved it away so hastily, and why it seemed to upset her so. For the first time all day he thinks her exhaustion problem might not have been caused by him, or at least not fully by him, but that's even more concerning it means he can't correct this. Not without asking her something personal and he is so not ready for that yet, just making her dinner was a big leap.

So they both ignore what happened and finish dinner in awkward silence. She gets up first taking her dish to the kids, he follows behind her with the rest. She can't face him but wants to make sure he knows his efforts weren't in vain.

Y/N- “ Dinner was really nice, I'm impressed didn't know you could cook”

He doesn't understand why her complement is making him blush but it is, he's very glad she's turned away from him. He can't let her see him like this blushing and flustered over a compliment on his cooking, she'll think him a fool.

Peter- “ I'm glad you liked it”

She heads back to her room to lay down, but before she closes the door Peter takes a risk.

Peter- “ I… I wanna start pulling my own weight so I'll make some dinners, can even give me a chore list… i don't wanna burden you”

She freezes in her doorway. She has no problem taking care of him and making his meals, she likes it actually, she doesn't seek validation or praise for her efforts. Just knowing that she's helping him, keeping him from being on the streets, keeping him from a dangerous downward spiral is more than enough. His declaration confounds her, she knows she can't leave him much longer without a response and needs to reassure him, since he's taken such effort to express himself.

She wears on a genuine smile and turns to face him

Y/N- “ your not a burden Peter, thank you for taking care of me, and that's nice of we can divide the chores.”

He's already gone this far, just one more step tonight.

Peter- “ you said you've been pushing to hard, your exhausted, is that because of me being here”

Her smile fades as he's touched on a topic that she tries to avoid but won't leave her alone.

Y/N- “ it's not you really, I like having you here,.... it's something else wearing on me”

Peter- “ someone at school… I could take care of that”

He makes her smile again, offering to beat the shit out of someone at scholl for her without even asking for a reason, her word is enough.

Y/N- “ no, but thanks for the offer”

Peter- “ it's always on the table if you need”

Y/N- “ how kind” [giggles]

He blushes again but this time he understands why. Her giggle so melodic, the way her cheeks round and eyes squint as she smiles. He runs his hand through his hair pulling some down to cover his face and keeps his gaze to the side trying to hide without turning away completely and risking upsetting her.

Y/N- “ good night peter”

Peter- “ good night Y/N”

[skyraven180]

just for you @moogus-online

“You’ve got guts…” Peter x Black Female! Y/N

you were walking to your locker in your new school and when you were trying to tidy up,

someone comes up to your and pins you to the locker.

you see a tall, goth boy and he look at you like you were a tiny bug, he suddenly pins you against your locker as he speaks in a deep and sorta pissed tone as he tries to keep his composure

“Are you new here or something?”

he says obviously pissed you aren’t scared at him in general.

“Um yeah Nigga, i’m new so what?” You look up not being the slightest of nervousness or showing anything related to that as you stand your ground.

he smirks

“Well you clearly seem new, I thought it would be a great privilege to personally welcome you to this crap hole”

he says in a sarcastic tone before he shoves you against the locker

“Do you know what people call me around here?”

*he says in a deep and intimidating tone

“Pfft- emo kid, probably” you snicker cover your mouth with your hand as you squint you eyes

She grabs his cigarette and puts it in her mouth looking at him sternly

he is stunned and looks shocked that you would take an item he has out of his hands

he snarls at you

“Do you have any idea who yo-“

he stops himself and smirks

“You know what, I like you, you got some guts, do you even know who I am? Or did you pick up some random persons cigarette and decide to steal it? Because if that’s the case-“

“Naw bro I mean yeah that was real forward of me I just wanted a go at it honestly” she shrugged

he blinks as he thinks for a second

“You want a go at my cig? I can get you a pack, just give me a second-“

he raises his eyebrow like he is confused

“Or do you mean a go go at it?..”

he says in a sly tone

he chuckles and his smirks

“You’re not scared huh? You don’t care that I could probably snap you in half if I wanted to?”

he looks at her trying to sound threatening

“You’re either stupid, brave, or both”

“Probably stupid?” She laughs it off, snickering

he chuckles a bit as he sees you aren’t taking him seriously

“You’re an interesting girl…what’s your name?”

“Y/N, L/N!”

his eyebrow raises

“Well Y/N, do you have a phone or something? If so drop your number”

he says slyly

Y/n nods and holds put her phone

he grabs her phone out of her hands

he pulls out his own phone and types something in it

he then puts her number in her contacts

he hands the phone back to her and smiles

“You’ve got my number, you can hit me up whenever you want”

“Ok….um see you later!!”

he nods and smirks

“I’ll catch you later”

he says in an intrigued tone as he starts to walk away

You stopped and in your mind you were thinking….

💭he was kinda cute💭

idea of black y/n….

Hope you and everyone else liked this!!

[abismo636]

Goth & Bully

[bloodypeachblog]

Ok I REALLY need to write some Goth Peter stuff, like omfg.

[redstarwriting]

the clash | i. hey, ho! let’s go!

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 1.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie

a/n: it’s here 😎 no but fr, i proudly present a new series focusing on hobie brown, loml. i‘m trying to make it gn, so if you spot anything that needs fixing lemme know. i also did include a bit of a description of what you look like, but it’s mainly just to affirm the gothic spider-person look. and if you don’t like it, you can just pretend it isn’t there, my character designer brain just took a hold while explaining lol. enjoy y’all, there’s more where this came from 👀

now reading: i. hey, ho! let’s go!

next chapter: ii. time bomb

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In theory, the two of you should have been great friends. Best friends, even. He’s called Spider-Punk, and you’re called Spider-Goth, this alone made Miguel assume the two of you would get along better than all of the Peters. Unfortunately for Miguel, he was dead wrong. It was fine at first, a good introduction. “Spider-Punk, meet Spider-Goth,” Miguel says, motioning to the two of you. You simultaneously turn your heads towards him, “Don’t call me that.” You look at each other, seemingly sizing each other up after speaking the same words at the same time. In reality, the two of you were checking each other out, but no one needs to know that. “Fine. Hobie, meet (Y/n). (Y/n), meet Hobie,” Miguel says as Peter B. Parker hops next to him, excited to see the two of you interact. Your gaze first fell on his many piercings, which suited him very well. Almost as well as the spikes coming out of the shoulders of his tattered denim vest. “See somethin’ you like?” you hear his thick cockney accent, and you shrug. “The constant changing makes it difficult,” you say, causing him to shrug. “I hate consistency,” he says, staring you up and down. “I like the guitar,” you say, and he nods. “Everyone does.” You raise an eyebrow, and he takes in the way your heavy black eyeliner makes the expression look more exaggerated than it is. His eyes go down, taking in your outfit, which seems to be varying in different gothic styles, but overall is all black with silver studs, spikes, and charms sticking out everywhere. He notices the two of you share a liking for combat boots, and perhaps his favorite thing about you are the intricate and all black spider-web tattoos on your hands crawling their way up your arms. Hobie clicks his tongue. “Goth, eh?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem with you or something?”

“Feisty for a goth.”

“Instigative as all punks are.”

“What… is going on,’ Peter whispers to Miguel who shakes his head. “I thought they would be best friends?” Peter suggests as he places a binky in Mayday’s mouth. “I did too…” Miguel says, “Maybe this is just a way these types of alternative people talk?”

“Tal vez tengas razón… Hobie does love to be abrasive for no reason,” Miguel concludes, and Peter shrugs and they zone in on the two of you again. “...I don’t suppose there’s no reason we shouldn’t get along,” Hobie suggests, raising an eyebrow at you. “I agree. We probably think similar things… for the most part.”

“For the most part, huh?”

“Just that we have similar ideas, but most likely not the same,” you respond, and he crosses his arms, his guitar moving loosely behind his back. “Opinions on anarchy. Go.”

“It’s the ideal society—”

“Good start—”

“But completely unrealistic.”

“Excuse me?” Hobie looks at you with a glowering expression. “Humans are inherently assholes. Selfish, shitty, assholes. As amazing as it would be to have anarchy running rampant,” you shrug, “It’s unlikely it will ever happen.”

“You can’t actually believe that,” Hobie says, exasperated, “I mean you actually think that we can’t achieve it? You get enough people angry, and they rebel, they push for anarchy. I’ve seen it happen; I’ve led a rebellion.” You roll your eyes. “And do you live in a perfect anarchical society now?”

“Not yet, but we’re gettin’ there,” he clenches his teeth, and you sigh. “I admire your blatant idiocy disguised as an ambitious dream,” you say, and he huffs. “Would you just talk like a normal fuckin’ person and stop usin’ these dumbass words and shitty poetic language?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, or are you as deaf as your ideologies?” This time you scoff. “I don’t have the time to be berated by someone who lives in their own delusions to try and feel the slightest bit less angry at the world for giving him the shitty cards he was dealt.”

“And I don’t have time to listen to the rubbish ramblings of a miserable twat who digs desperately into their black hole of a heart to try and feel somethin’ when the truth is they don’t even know what they stand for,” he fires back. You glare at him. He glares at you. As if on cue you both flip each other off before you web away. Peter’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Well, that went horribly!”

Miguel punches him on the shoulder, resulting in a soft ‘ow’ and a tiny angry noise from Mayday. “What the hell was that Hobart?” Miguel nearly yells and Hobie snaps his head towards him. “Don’t call me that, neither! They don’t get it. It’s not enough to want to make a difference in the world. You need to take action. Goths love to sit on the sidelines and lament instead of playing the offensive,” Hobie explains, a deep frown on his face, “Watch out for them. They might not be able to do what it takes when it counts.” Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hobie, you’re supposed to show them around—”

“No, fuck that. I’m not goin’ anywhere near that gothic monstrosity,” Hobie says shaking his head in defiance. “We made a deal. You would show all the younger spider—”

“Yeah, well you can shove that deal up your fuckin’ ass, mate, I’m not doin’ shit for them!”

“Okay, okay, calm down there, man. Why don’t you just ask Gwen to help you? Maybe Miles and Pavitr too? That way you fulfill your promise, 'cause I know promises are important to you, and you won’t have to talk to them!” Peter reasons and Hobie looks over at him. He furrows his eyebrows. That would help the situation. And maybe he’d be able to help you see just how garbage your take was with Gwen on his side. “Fine. But I’m not doin’ it cause I need help, and I’m not doin’ it because you told me to. I’m doin’ it cause it’s the last thing that they’d want,” Hobie says, pointing at Peter while saying it, flipping Miguel off, and then webbing away. Peter looks at Miguel who is clenching his fists… and his jaw. “You seem stressed, but don’t worry about it. Not all of us need to like each other, I mean there’s so many there’s no possible way we all could and look at you, you hate Miles even though he’s awesome and—”

“Shut. Up. Peter,” Miguel growls, stalking away while mumbling various things in Spanish. Peter looks down at Mayday. “Tough crowd,” he says as she giggles up at him.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom​ @weyrrii* 

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

[madschiavelique]

𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : after your little late night training, you came back to your room once more thinking about miguel, and got called just a bit later to get on a mission. you’re all paired up, miguel ending up with you, and let’s just say the mission takes a different turn… or you give miguel a handjob in public toilets while on a mission

content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, handjob, miguel is so desperate i swear, no use of Y/N, so much tension word count : 4,2k

note : this bitch became so long i had to make it a 4shot instead of a 3shot, enjoy besties (proofreading is on-going on this one <3)

chapters' list : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission (nsfw) 4 - shameless (nsfw)

tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf

Needless to say, after that fortunate nocturnal encounter, you couldn't sleep at all as your thoughts about Miguel multiplied. You replayed the scene in your mind as if you were putting the diamond back to the favourite tune on your latest vinyl, his hands on your body as he readjusted your position, the tumble into which he had dragged you...

"Distracted?"

You rolled over onto your side of the bed, pressing your pillow against your chest. You thought back to the circular movements he was making on your waist with his thumb, to his darkened eyes, to his lips as he prepared to kiss you...

"There?"

You buried your head in your pillow, clutching it tightly under your fingers, your heart dropping into your stomach. And his canines had traced your skin, had trailed dangerously over the line of your pulse in your throat, intimately. You realised that he could very well have torn open your throat and made you bleed out in his arms, but instead, he chose to kiss.

"This is not over."

You would have tried to knock yourself out to get some sleep, but there was nothing you could do. Every minute, every moment, every bit of your attention was riveted on it. So you tried to put on some music, to relax, to put your thoughts on something else. But the taste of his lips on yours kept coming back.

What would have happened if Lyla hadn't interrupted you?

But one thought kept coming to the fore: the attraction is mutual. This simple idea made your heart swell.

Less than an hour later, however, just as sleep and rest were finally opening their arms to you, you were summoned to Miguel's office with some other spiders. So, tired but trying to stay alert, you hurried over there.

The situation Lyla had mentioned was the reason for the call. It seemed that several anomalies had found their way simultaneously into one single dimension, which led to Hobie, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter B, Miguel and you getting together at almost dawn to deal with the situation.

Everyone yawned till their jaws unhooked as the situation was explained, and all you could do was stare at Miguel. He didn't look too good either, but he hid it well, as always. He met your gaze only a few times, an indecipherable indifference in place.

Suddenly, a single, particularly gruelling thought came to the surface, and you felt as if your heart was going to come crush on itself like a tin can.

What if, at any moment, he were to pull you aside and say, "About what happened last night, forget it." You swallowed, caressing the hope that this discussion wouldn't come up.

Who knows, after all, maybe he just wanted to keep it a secret for the time being? You didn't mind the idea, there's always a certain excitement in secrecy.

"Hi there!"

You jumped slightly, placing your hand on your heart as you turned to Layla. The thing that made her so dangerous was that your spider-senses couldn't possibly predict or allow you to sense anything about her presence.

"Oops, sorry for the jumpscare," she smiled with a little shrug of her shoulder, "sooo about this situation with Miguel, how do you feel?" she asked, speaking much more quietly.

"What?" you said, looking around to make sure no spiders were paying attention to your discussion. "I mean... I don't know. We haven't really had time to talk about it." You rubbed the back of your neck lightly, feeling at a loss to reveal the countless thoughts that were monopolising your entire mind. "You mentioned earlier that... he's been keeping an eye on me. What did you mean by that ?”

"Mhm," she said, looking around, but not out of concern for the others, out of concern that Miguel might catch her talking to you. "Well if you wanna know, from time to time since the last mission you were here, the big guy would ask for your location and open a tab with the camera of the place you were in. Pretty creepy in my opinion," she laughed under her breath, "but his main argument was always about 'the bullet' and how 'gotta make sure you're doing better'," she mimicked him. "So yeah, things like that. I mean, he did mention some stuff-"

"What stuff?" you asked, hanging on her every word.

"I think he might've been struggling to find the right reason to approach you-"

"Layla!" shouted Miguel, irritation evident in his tone.

"Ugh, would've loved to chat with you more but Happy over there requests me. See ya!"

In less time than it takes to bat an eyelash, her pixels flew across the room to Miguel. The latter raised his index finger as if to berate his child, and you couldn't help but smile at the scene.

So Miguel had been keeping an eye on you all this time?

You didn't have that much time to wonder about it, though, because the portal to the dimension in question had just been opened.

"Here here ladies and gentlemen! called Layla, "To make the mission easier, we've split into duos so we don't end up like last time when it was a mess and we called for reinforcements," she cleared her throat and announced with pleasant surprise that the groups would be Hobie with Gwen, Peter with Pavitr, and finally Miguel and you. At the end, she winked at you. "Hop hop hop, let's get going!"

Miguel rolled his eyes and jerked his head in the direction of the gate before pulling his mask over his face.

As soon as you arrived, some sort of completely absurd lorry sped through the city, bumping into almost every street corner, the shape of the vehicle changing with each impact. One minute it was an ice cream truck, the next it was a military van, and so on.

"Who's driving? Stevie Wonder?" blurted Peter.

"Your powers of deduction leave me speechless," Pavitr gasped.

A sort of heavyweight surrounded by lots of red dentured toys walking all around him had built himself a ring at a crossroads with electric cables and cars to mark out his arena. He seemed to be calling out to anyone who thought they were strong enough to take him on in a fight, with anyone who got even a little too close being attacked and chased by the countless toys.

As for the third anomaly, there was still no sign of it. Miguel turned to the group.

" Alright, Gwen, Hobie, you're in charge of fast and furious," pointed Miguel.

"No problem, I'll show them!" confirmed Gwen as she took off.

"Go on, make us dream," added Peter.

"Pavitr and Peter, you'll be working on John Cena," ordered Miguel, as the duo took off, "as for us...".

Just then, in the distance, there was a strange, hoarse rumbling sound, not very loud, but perceptible enough for your keen senses.

"Here's the job," you confirmed, jumping up and pulling your web to get to the site.

The situation was a bit complicated, with three anomalies wreaking havoc all over the city at the same time, it was a serious quota.

The one chasing you now was particularly repulsive and complex. The enemy was... deformed, aesthetically flawed in the sense that its entire being was made up of a sort of light beige bubbly paste, simply resembling bread dough that had been left to rise overnight. The anomaly moved blindly, its being devoid of bones or joints smearing itself slimily over the surfaces it attacked and dragging itself along without the trace it left behind ever stripping it of its own material. Its gaping, open mouth resembled that of a sad theatrical mask, yet thanks to what you and Miguel had understood, this creature could identify surroundings by sound.

The key would have been to make no noise at all, but given that in a bustling city sound was unavoidable, the anomaly kept attacking anything that made even a little too much noise.

"The voice of wisdom is mute, it speaks in sign language, I can make out a middle finger crossing a circle made of a thumb and a index that stick together", Hobie had sung when you had crossed paths at one point, him and Gwen still chasing the lorry that looked like the ones that circuses use to pass through towns, warning of their shows with a megaphone.

The sound of this movement displeased the anomaly and it began to chase him, Miguel grumbling that intertwining anomalies was never a good thing.

It was necessary to divert this flabby paste and attract its attention, and find a way of neutralising it. Miguel tried to throw a multi-dimensional cell at it, but it simply sank into the dough without activating.

"Oh come on really?!" he raged, the thing suddenly turning towards him.

"Hey!" you called in the beast's direction, whistling loudly as it came towards you with that inverted smile. "Come on, come and get me," you smiled, rushing towards the inside of a shopping centre that had been completely evacuated as it closed in on you.

You ran, whistling to attract it.

Honestly, you had absolutely no idea how to confront this thing. You tried throwing a web at it, trying to see if it had any effect, but the web sank into the pile of dough miserably.

Dammit. Maybe clawing would have an effect? You stopped, positioning yourself, calling to it again, extending your claws.

It was hurtling towards you, and your uncertainty was growing with every metre less between it and you. And just as you thought you'd be swallowed up by the bubbly, viscous mass, you were pulled back by a neon-red web that had wrapped itself around your waist.

Miguel had just pulled you against him with one of his webs, distancing you as far as possible from the creature as he threw a web at a shop opposite selling some sort of plush toy that made a noise when pressed. The anomaly rushed at it, creating a cacophony of childish music and tearing as he led you down a corridor nearby.

"Are you looking to die by landing in front of it like that?" growled Miguel in a whisper.

"What can I say, I guess a brush with death is part of my beauty-seduction panoply."

He let out a small laugh, but shook his head to compose himself, "I'd rather you not die, please. Unless you're doing this on purpose to repeat the episode of your gunshot wound?" his hand came to rest on the spot of your old injury, a breath catching in your throat.

You flinched, he'd touched a sensitive spot. You could hear the anomaly in the distance as it fiercely pursued its quest for silence by destroying all the stuffed animals and other objects that might produce any sound.

"Silence suddenly suits you," Miguel murmured, his fingers brushing against your thigh again.

You swallowed, the sensations you'd felt at his touch just over an hour ago spreading through your body again. Did he want to tease you in a situation like this? Well, so would you.

You took off your mask, trying not to let the effect he was having on you show too much, even though the urge was overwhelming, and moved a little closer to him, putting your hand on his thigh. Your knuckles brushed against his covered skin, a smile forming on your lips. You were now close, only a dozen centimetres separating your two faces. His mask depixelised, revealing him staring at you with half-closed eyelids, breathing slowly as your hand came up to his hip, your fingers gently tracing it. He was watching your face with particular interest, calm and curious.

You placed your other hand on his chest, letting it slide down the side of his suit until it reached his back, your gaze never wavering from his. You tilted your head back slightly, feeling no need to overdo it given the fact that he was so tall. Then, bringing your face a little closer to his without reaching him, your hand came to the small of his back and your middle finger traced his spine from bottom to top, his body undulating as he contracted his jaw, letting out a sigh of ease, his eyelids closing.

You brought your lips to his ear, whispering as low as you could:

"I heard you've been watching me?"

You tilted your head to the side, returning to find his eyes, watching his eyebrows furrow at your remark, his upper lip curling slightly to show his canines as his lips formed a soundless "layla?"

You nodded softly, moving closer to his face again, your eyelids brushing his cheek as your hand reached further up his inner thigh, slightly higher than the midpoint between his knee and his crotch, his breath catching on the crook of your neck.

"So?" you whispered again, intimacy mixing with fear of being spotted by the anomaly.

"I did... I do." he breathed, his hand coming to rest on your waist until it pulled you back, pressing you a little more against the wall behind you. The contact made your body burn, his fingers the cause of that hungry fire.

His nose brushed against yours, "Had to make sure you were alright," he breathed.

"Is that the only reason?" you asked, your forehead pressed to his.

His thumb circled your hip in an almost hypnotic way.

"Maybe not," he admitted, his lips brushing yours.

"Hey guys- OUCH! How're you handling the situation ?" crackled Peter's voice coming from your watch and Miguel's. The anomaly immediately swivelled in your direction, "I'm never making fun of dentures again!"

Shit.

The anomaly leapt towards you, and Miguel grabbed your wrist to pull you away from it. You made your way through the maze of corridors with their light marbled floors. You watched your surroundings, trying to find a sound distraction. Not far from a stationary escalator was one of the typical pianos available to everyone in stations or shopping centres like this one. You threw a web over the keys, a strange chord playing for a moment, perfectly distracting the anomaly as you ran elsewhere.

Miguel drew you in when he noticed the distinctive toilet sign.

You went straight into a cubicle and locked the door. Out of breath, you leaned against one of the walls of the small space, trying to calm your breathing, fearing that the creature would spot you with a tiny noise like that.

When the racket seemed to die down, you relaxed and tilted your head back, resting it against the wall as you looked at Miguel through your eyelashes. The cabin wasn't big enough to accommodate two people without them being close together. It was even more complicated with the space Miguel took up, and that's precisely how close you were at the moment, close, your eyes connected tirelessly. You felt as if the air was electric with him, as if hundreds of tingles of closeness were crackling under your skin and he was drawing them all in his direction.

He breathed in, and his torso bulged until it brushed against you. His eyes locked with yours and looked down at your lips for a moment, then he moved forward a little to get even closer, putting his hand next to your head on the wall, and when his gaze returned to yours, the colour of his irises had turned red.

His height and width towered over you, and the impossibility of going anywhere became obvious. Not that you wanted to run away, on the contrary. He tilted his head to one side, his nose pressing against the soft skin of your cheek.

"I couldn't get you out of my mind... so I kept an eye on you," he admitted, resuming your earlier conversation, breathing softly, bringing his nose closer to your neck and inhaling your scent almost drunkenly as his hair tickled your face. "The taste of your skin, your voice, the feel of your fingers in my hair..."

You gently brought your hand to his shoulder, sliding it to the nape of his neck and snaking your fingers through his hair, raking your nails through it while he let out a shaky, breathy moan.

"Yeah, that," he grumbled quietly against the skin of your neck, feverish, his lips brushing against it and sending shivers down the rest of your spine as his other hand slid up the small of your back and pulled you to him until your two bodies were touching.

He began to kiss your neck as if its skin were the only thing capable of quenching his thirst, revelling in your scent and the warmth that emanated from it, tracing the line of your pulse with his tongue from bottom to top as it rushed under the sensation, letting a moan of ease rise from the depths of your throat at the same time.

His hand moved down your side to your hip, leaving in its wake a powder of stars that sparkled in your body and made you feel warm in your lower stomach. He ran his hand down to your thigh, grasping it between his powerful fingers as his fangs grazed the skin of your exposed neck, his other hand pulling on the collar of your suit to uncover a bit more of it. His hand was closing on your thigh, gripping it tightly and squeezing until you felt his claws digging into your still-covered skin, a strangled gasp rattling in your throat as his grip on it pulled you a little closer to him.

And you felt it, that hardness pressed against your thigh. Your heart skipped a beat, and a little knot of warmth sprang up in your belly. You lowered your eyes slightly, and they landed on his erection pressed through the fabric of his suit.

Oh shit. Big.

His fangs traced the skin of your neck dangerously, pressing harder, ready to bite as you breathed out in a whisper: "Wouldn't this be inappropriate during a mission ?"

He exhaled, his low growl reverberating against your neck as he kissed it.

"Hm't can wait," he mumbled incoherently, completely intoxicated by your skin and the sensation of your two bodies so close.

You had to control yourself so that your knees didn't give out on you, it was as if they were made of jelly; boneless, useless muscles surrounding nothing at all. The effect he had on you set your body aglow, heat pooling in your lower back as a fire had started in your abdomen, completely bewitched by his touch and the sensations he provoked in you.

A warm cloud had taken up residence in your lower belly, spreading under your skin, and every movement he made and every breath he breathed on your skin only warmed it, making it expand as much as it tightened.

Looking for a place to anchor yourself, you put your hand on his hip, your fingers still in his hair, tightening a little. He let out a hoarse moan, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Unconsciously, or simply eager for the sensations, his hips had started grinding on their own on your thigh.

It was then that this simple fact occurred to you: you had as much power over him as he had over you.

The thought did not leave you indifferent, not in the least. The simple idea that with a light rub of your fingers you could set off fireworks of pleasure and expectation in him suddenly gave you an exceptional feeling of power.

So you turned your head to kiss his hair tenderly as your hand slowly moved down the distance between his hip and his crotch. His grip on your thigh tightened, but that didn't stop your hand from continuing its trajectory until it reached his groin, tracing the covered skin with your fingertips without continuing your approach.

Miguel's breath mingled with the lament in his voice, and what a beautiful sound it was. Staying like this, tracing the junction between his pelvis and his thigh, was a particularly hot temptation.

"...wer." grumbled Miguel.

You had a pretty good idea what that word was, but just for the sake of it, you asked:

"Say that again."

He let out a groan as your fingers continued their incessant, static waltzing over his groin.

"Lower," he managed to articulate.

You smiled, then, to relieve him, brought your hand against his cock, twitching at the contact of your fingers. A sigh of relief mixed with a ragged moan vibrated through his chest, a slight spasm gripping his hips as your index finger traced his length from base to tip. His pelvis undulated further against the contact, seeking more friction, more heat, simply and preciously seeking more.

Your face, until then hidden in his hair, moved forward until your lips whispered in his ear:

"Like it when I touch you there?"

And you saw his skin shiver like one of an orange, his shoulders relaxing as he let out a "Hmpf" of approval, his hips undulating, craving the single touch of your fingers on him. You could now definitely feel his claws pressing against your thigh and just hoped it wouldn't damage your suit again.

So you wrapped your hand around him, finger by finger, close to the tip of his head, your thumb resting on top of it, making circular movements at a painfully slow pace. You could feel the moisture soaking the digital fabric there as Miguel's breath hitched.

Your lips still close to his cheek came to kiss him softly, moving down his jaw and a little further into his neck, letting your nose brush gently against his skin. Your kisses and the slight movement of your hand seemed to have a particularly pleasurable effect on him.

Since his erection was against his body, you couldn't properly enclose it, but you could see that if you tried to close the loop around it, you wouldn't be able to get your thumb and fingers to come together and touch, and that width impressed you as much as it intimidated you. After all, there's a fine line between fear and reverence.

Nonetheless, you slowly began to lower your fingers, now angled to embrace him as best you could over the thin fabric, then gently moved upwards, slightly twisting your hand near his tip.

A trembling sigh escaped from between his lips as his hand, hitherto resting on the nape of your neck, nestled close to your hair, gripping lightly as he straightened his head to meet your gaze. Needless to say, his eyes were darkened by desire, his jaw clenching.

You continued your movements, switching from the gentle, slow rhythm you'd started with to something a little more sped up, occasionally letting your thumb stop just below his tip, making gentle movements with it that drew moans of ease from him against your ear.

"How does that feel?" you asked, your voice barely audible, kissing his cheek softly.

"Coño," he sighed, coming to kiss your cheekbone "like heaven.” His thumb was rubbing over your neck, gently.

His hips became more insistent, seeking more friction and warmth, eager for anything you could offer him. He sprinkled little kisses interspersed with moans locked against his teeth, his fangs inadvertently grazing your skin, cheek against cheek, his sighs landing on your ear in a warm cloud.

"Don’t stop," he sighed, "don’t stop…"

His voice was deeper, low as his breathing started speeding up.

"Hey guys, we're almost over here, what about you?" Pavitr's voice echoed in the cabin, and you both gasped.

A mass commotion outside: the anomaly had heard your watches sizzling perfectly again, and you could hear it moving insistently towards you. The poor guy would have to wait, because ending up dead in a public toilet choked by a mass of dough was not on your agenda.

"Looks like the fun will have to wait," you whispered to him as you removed your hand from his erection, moving aside to open the door, but the hand that had been resting on your thigh moved up to grip your waist.

"What are you doing?" he snarled, his eyebrows furrowed, panting.

"I'm trying to stay alive and finish my mission," you replied with a mischievous grin as you could hear the door to the toilet entrance shatter.

The fire that burned in your body at his touch was still there... Well, yes, the fire! Yes, fire!

If this creature was made of dough, that meant it could bake. So perhaps it would become solid enough to be placed in a cell.

"This is not over," you whispered to him before starting to replace your mask to leave.

But he prevented the gesture from being completed in time to kiss you, chastely yet passionately. Your heart dropped warmly into your belly as you responded to his kiss.

He stroked your cheek with his thumb for a moment, his brown eyes gleaming with a mixture of frustration and hunger.

The dough paced up and down the corridor, and you leapt to the top of the cubicle, silently trying to pass over each of the toilets to reach the exit.

next part >> shameless (nsfw)

[ohodie]

sad, beautiful, tragic

distance, timing, breakdown, fighting

silence, the train runs off its tracks

kiss me, try to fix it

could you just try to listen?

hang up, give up

and for the life of us, we can get back

peter parker x reader!!

(treacherous part 2)

PLOT - in which peter parker tries to talk to his rival after multiple drunk make out sessions the previous night.

WARNINGS - sexual references, no smut, make out scenes, allusions to sexual activity, weed, smoking, kiss and makeup attitude

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“just talk to her, don’t be an arse” gwen smiled, swaying with the movement of the subway. the sun peeked through the windows as the train made its way out of a tunnel and closer to their destination.

“what exactly are you supposed to say to someone you made out with like, 3 times while drunk?? especially if you used to hate their guts”

“i don’t know, ‘sorry i hated you before, i just internalised my fetish for goth stoners as hatred- let’s make out some more’ or something-“ gwen joked, before being cut off by a frustrated peter.

“are you kidding me? she’s gonna spot us across the carriage any second now and i won’t have any idea what to say to her!”

y/n sat cross legged in her seat, reading some depressing book from the early 1900’s about some depressing characters, written by a depressed closeted gay man. she tucked a chunk of hair behind her ears before re-adjusting her headphones. “i bet she’s listening to fucking my chemical romance or korn or some shit,” peter chuckled as his eyebrows furrowed, gripping onto the hanging bars of the train carriage.

“nope, look on spotify,” gwen corrected. peter turned away from y/n to look over at gwen, his eyes drifting to the screen of her phone.

“it says she’s listening to… taylor swift?” she said, a confused expression painted on her face. peter jolted his head back in shock, overcome with anxiety. “aunt may loves taylor swift…” he murmured, the rustle of the train carriage pulling him away from gwen.

“let me see what song,” peter insisted as he gestured to see gwen’s phone. she passed it over to him, watching his face move as he read the title.

“sad, beautiful, tragic… i’m pretty sure that’s from red, right?” peter questioned. gwen shrugged her shoulders in response. “i don’t know. i’m more of a midnights and evermore type of girl” she replied. peter scrolled down to the lyrics of the song, his eyes widening and his lips pursing.

“gwen, i’m totally fucked”

y/n had slept on what had happened the previous night. spider-man saved her from getting robbed and gave her some very unhelpful advice. what the fuck would spider-man know anyways? he doesn’t get any bitches. y/n may have also ghosted peter, but who cares? y/n put her heart out on the table, for some reason expecting more from the person who constantly teased her everyday for 2 years. sure, she should’ve saw it coming, but she didn’t. which is why she was going to be as dramatic as possible.

this meant a new playlist. no more limp biskit; nobody cries to ‘break stuff’!! it was time to listen to the entire red album on repeat, along with ‘ultraviolence’ and elliott smith. y/n was fully ready to be a sad little bitch.

on monday morning, she scored a seat on the subways and started listening to her new playlist, putting on one particular taylor swift song on repeat while she read her sad little bitch book. she looked up for a split second to see peter and gwen talking.

‘oh, so he can make time to talk to gwen, but not the girl he snogged three times?’ y/n thought.

y/n turned up her volume and put away her book as she listened to the lyrics of the song. the train pulled up to the station within walking distance to her school and so she stood up. catching the eye of peter as she walked to the doors, she quickly averted her gaze and took a few steps back.

peter flinched at the sudden eye contact, turning his full body towards gwen. “gwen. do something” he anxiously muttered. gwen nodded, smiling innocently, before beginning to casually walk over to y/n.

“y/n! how’d that hangover treat you?” gwen asked, pulling in y/n for a comfortable hug. y/n smiled hesitantly and embraced the act of affection. “so, so badly,” she replied, thinking back to the incident that followed the day after the party.

“the hangover is the least of my troubles” she stated and she glanced over at peter, who was watching both of them. “oh, do you mean…” gwen asked as she gestured over to the lanky boy trailing behind them, walking onto the platform as the train doors opened.

“what? no! i was mugged,” y/n announced, arching her eyebrows. peter didn’t look surprised. y/n took note of this, feeling somewhat offended that he didn’t care.

“y/n! are you okay?? how did that happen?” gwen asked, completely and utterly shocked. peter walked over. “wait, yeah… are you okay y/n?” he asked, breaking out of his anxious state for one moment.

y/n sighed softly, rolling her eyes. “i’m fine, spider-man saved me and then gave me some very unhelpful advice.” she said as she pursed her lips, her eyes darting between gwen and peter. “he’s a total ride though- i hope he’s not like… 46 or something,” she continued. gwen chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand as her cheeks turned pink. “did you get to feel his abs?” she asked as the trio walked across queens to get to school.

“yeah, they were rock hard. i didn’t expect him to be so fit!” y/n exclaimed. peter tried to stifle his blush as they got closer to the school, blocking out their conversation.

as they entered the gates, gwen quickly walked towards her class, leaving the two alone.

“um, we have math-“

“i know, peter” y/n interrupted. her voice was cold and unemotional- a stark difference form her previous cheerful demeanour. this was the guy that she was squabbling with for years now… the guy that she also maybe had a few steamy dreams about as well. her preconceived notions about peter were contradicting with her fantasies and the realities of what happened over the weekend- causing her to spiral into a semi-depressed state of rage.

peter, on the other hand, knew exactly what he thought of y/n. he always thought that she was attractive, but a total arse. now, he found her being an arse super endearing. but that could have something to do with the fact that they made out 3 times and he almost touched her boobs.

the two walked in awkward silence to their math class, a strong tension in the air. they took their seats and sat painfully silently for an hour.

y/n tapped her pen on her notebook, not listening to a word the teacher was saying. ‘fuck it,’ she thought, ripping out a piece of paper.

she scribbled a few words down before passing it over to peter.

‘make up for ghosting me by skipping second period and hiding in the unisex bathrooms’

‘sure :)’

the unisex bathrooms were dimly lit, far away from the rest of campus. surrounded by unused classrooms. the unisex bathrooms were a prime hookup spot… but for y/n, it was her own personal hotbox.

she lit the end of her joint and put her lighter in her jacket pocket as she leaned against the bathroom wall. y/n took a drag as she stared at the wall. she took another short hit, before passing it to peter. he did the same, his legs crossed.

“so why didn’t you text me, dick face?” she started, crossing her arms. smoke escaped her lips as the talked, mesmerising peter.

“dick face?” peter repeated, stifling a grin as he shook his head.

“um… i guess i didn’t know what to say,” he replied, passing back the joint. y/n smiled awkwardly as she rolled her eyes. “classic parker…”

“well, do you know what to say now?” y/n asked, sliding down to the floor, head level with peter. he shrugged his shoulders. “kinda,” he muttered.

“are you gonna say it, mcslutty?”

“i don’t appreciate the name-calling, y/n.” he said irritably, his voice somewhat breathy.

“you ghosted me too, remember?” peter added, raising his eyebrows.

“yeah, but i was mugged!” she said defensively, opening her mouth in shock. “obviously i was too busy!”

peter laughed, covering his face. “fair point.”peter pursed his lips, looking down before taking another hit of the joint.

peter took a deep breath in, tapping the floor anxiously. “i really like you, y/n” peter averted his eyes. “i used the think i didn’t, but i was just lying to myself so i wouldn’t have to confront the fact that there’s actually nice stuff about you,” he’s smirked.

y/n chuckled. “what nice stuff?”

“your face, obviously. your musical skills, your rolling skills. you’re also really funny, and you’re so generous. you’re not nice to everyone, but you still help everyone- if that makes sense? but yeah… shit like that i guess,”

y/n smiled sincerely, slightly tilting her head to the side. “that’s pretty sweet, shithead”

it took them a whole 40 seconds before they started jamming their lips together, peter’s hands gripping y/n’s waist as she sat on top of his lap. her hands cupped his face gently, occasionally pulling a hand away and running it through his hair.

she pulled away for air, before continuing her attack on his lips, her hands trailing down his torso as she fiddled with his shirt. peter pulled away, looking up at her before her eyes drifting to her hands.

“what are you doing there?” he asked teasingly, his voice limited to a hoarse whisper.

she began to frantically kiss his neck, her hands still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. “felt something hard. wondering if you’re ripped or just really horny.” she muttered breathily, one hand resting under his shirt as she caressed his torso, while the other hand gripped a bundle of his hair.

he looked as her curiously as she felt up his chest, watching her pull away with a look of shock and confusion. “peter? what the fuck?” she exclaimed, her hair messy and cheeks red.

“what? what’s wrong?” peter asked, panicked as his eyes drifted down to his pants, before meeting her eyes again. his face turned red, putting up his hands in surrender.

“hey, you were the one grinding against my-“

“no, you’re fully ripped!” she whispered, her eyes wide as her hand retracted from under his shirt. “jesus christ…” she muttered, lifting his shirt to take a peek.

peter burst out into a fit of dry laughter, tilting his head back and lightly hitting the wall of the bathroom stall.

“oh, yeah. that.” he said casually. y/n grumbled, standing up.

“right. i was not expecting that.” she huffed, her face completely red.

“anyways, i’m not fucking you in a hot-boxed bathroom stall at school. if you decide to stop being a little bitch and message me, maybe i’ll forgive you for ghosting me.” y/n proposed, leaning against the wall as she looked down at peter.

peter nodded, standing up. he opened the door, turning to face her. “yeah, i definitely won’t be ghosting you anytime soon. sorry about that, by the way.” he murmured.

“it’s fine. just as long as you send me a picture of your abs after school.” she demanded, her face completely serious as she looked peter up and down. peter nodded, his eyes wide.

she bit her lip, meeting his eyes once again. “seriously, they’re almost as good at spider-man’s.” she added, exiting the bathroom- leaving peter alone to deal with his thoughts.

[mariami478]

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Goth Boss (7)

Warning: Angst, mentioned self-harm, mention of scars

summary: Tony stark x daughter goth reader. The avengers find out that Tony has a secret teenage daughter and make tony ask her to visit. But when they meet her the avengers find out why she was kept secret. ( could Bucky and Steve he terrified of how y/n looks since they are from a different time and seeing a goth girl for the first time scares them) (tony has a strained relationship with y/n as she grew up without him and he kept her secret)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

As the day grew closer and closer, Lilly not only found herself cooking in large amounts in fits of stress, it was okay May helped her pack up and donate all the extras for those in need, but was constantly going through her medical kits and reviewing first aid techniques preparing for the worst. Preparing for another year to begin like the last, and the year before that, and before that. She was preparing to do it all over again and to ensure her daughter survived just as she did last time. She even got cleaning supplies in preparation for cleaning up the possible blood.

As Lilly prepared, she watched her daughter dove deeper into her art and volunteering. A dozen new sketches and drawings a day and a new canvas every other day. She didn't dare look at what her daughter's artistic heart created she was scared of what she would find. Her art often showed her heart and true feelings.

She'd stay on her toes and prepare for the worst.

-

Peter saw it, too. How she was avoiding him and all their friends and throwing herself into her art and volunteering, not a minute to spare. Although he was unaware of the full history of the day, he was aware of her distaste for the day and how it agitated her to the point of no mention of it. She grew displeased with those who did mention it, and they gained her ire.

Ned was currently on the receiving end of it. Her glare was enough for him to run tail tucked between his legs and avoid her like the plague. He loved her and her friendship, but... no.

MJ was much more careful keeping quiet and her distance when needed. Leaving (Y/n) to herself as she wished believing she'd come back when she wanted or was better.

-

"You need to slow down," so she began walking slower." That's not what I meant, and You know it. Your schedule is packed to the brim there isn't a second to spare. You're running from one thing to the next. You're running straight into the ground," Peter said, taking her hand to fully stop her. " I'm worried about you. I don't want you to get sick or hurt. I'm not asking you to stop I'm asking you to slow down and take a moment breath"

"I'm..." (y/n) sighed " I can't, I'm sorry I can't "Taking her hand back she continued on without him and without looking back. Not knowing what else to do Peter just went on patrol hoping later on tonight she would be more willing to talk. -

"You're back earlier than I thought you'd be," Peter said as he swung into her room, closing the window behind him.

"The director shared your sympathies and sent me home early." (Y/n) said as she continued to sketch at her desk.

"Will you talk to me, please? I want to help you, but I don't know how, and you aren't letting me," Peter said as he kneeled beside her.

Before (Y/n) could even turn to look at him her bedroom door flew open revealing her mother holding a large medical bag. She looked at Peter, who was kneeling next to her daughter, unmasked, still in her spider suit. She looked further around the room and found nothing.

Peter began to stand and stutter.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" she asked, and he shook his head. With one that knowledge and one more look around the room, she nodded and left, closing the door- but stopped. " I know you're Spider-Man, I've known for a while she didn't tell me I found out that time you slept over, you left your suit on the floor out in the open. I won't tell anyone. If you're staying the night, let May and I know."

And not the door is closed.

And Peter collapsed onto her bed grabbing his chest " I...oh god "

"You shouldn't be surprised. She's a smart woman"

"Can we talk, please?"

"We are talking"

"(Y/n), what's going on? Is it your birthday?" she flinched hard, scratching her nearly finished sketch. " It is. I want to help you, but you need to tell me how"

She sighed, balling up her drawing and throwing it away. Running her hands down her face " I don't know. I really don't know"

"I... My birthdays have never been good." she says as she starts to cry " I'm afraid something bad will happen like last year and the year before. I'm trying to distract myself so nothing bad will happen"

"Something bad happened last year?"

"Yes," she whispered as she tugged at her sleeves. In their entire relationship, Peter had not seen (Y/n) without her sleeves at least that is what she believed While he was aware that there were times she was in deep sadness, he wasn't aware of how deep and scaring the sadness was.

"I saw"

"What"

Peter sighed. " The night you slept over after you rejected Tony. I saw your wrist. That's what happened last year, right?"

There was a moment of silence as (Y/n) slowly turned to look at him. Then she burst into tears, sobbing as she realized he knew she was broken. She was in pieces far beyond what he had thought and what she had told him, and... he still loved her. He still stayed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she sobbed. Crossing the room, he stood her up and brought her to the bed to lie down. And laid with her, holding her for the rest of the night.

-

"I'll make sure they get up early enough to pick up his stuff on the way to school tomorrow" Realizing that Peter was going to spend the night Lilly had called his aunt to let her know and make sure she didn't worry.

"Thank you," May said

"I should be thanking you. You and Peter have been so good to us."

"I... I've just been worried about you guys that's all. Listen, I notice (Y/n) has been struggling and I don't mean to overstep or anything but do you think maybe she should talk to someone"

"Yes," Lilly sighs, " but we can't"

"Why?"

"You know who her father is. If she slips up and says her name, then those people go around talking Next thing you know, I got every news channel in America knocking on my door wanting to see Iron Man's daughter. I considered it before, but with who he is now... it is too big of a risk"

"You don't trust them"

"Sorry, but no, I don't, at least not with my baby. She's all I got"

"What if I helped you find someone? Someone trusts worth?" May could see not only (Y/n) spiraling but Lilly as well. They needed more help beyond what she could provide.

"If you can manage to find someone," she laughs bitterly.

"I do my best. For you and your daughter"

"May"

"Lilly?"

She sniffled " Thank you,"

-

When the day finally arrived, it went on as any other. It wasn't until the sunset that the atmosphere grew tense. Peter and May came over with Pizza for dinner. No one had the mindset to cook. They separated Peter and (Y/n) went to her room while May and Lilly stayed in the living room.

Peter and (Y/n) lay under her window quietly holding each other hands as they watched the city lights reflected on the window, New York didn't have stars.

"What's that?" May asked as Lilly joined her in the living room again, dropping a large black bag on the table. She sat down and sighed.

"Just in case"

She put her phone on the table, the numbers 9 and 1 already dialed, waiting for the last.

They continued to sit in silence.

In an Alley next to the apartment building, right under the living room window, was a parked SUV. His phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, Hey, where are you?" Pepper asked

"Out"

"Obviously, when are you coming home?"

He sighed, looking up at the window. " I don't know. I...I'll be back tomorrow I got to handle some stuff."

"Tomorrow?! Tony! What are you doing that has-"

"Listen, I got to go. Don't wait up" he hung up putting his phone on silent and tossing it in the passenger seat. He continued to watch the window.

Just in case.

-

The day introduced itself with bright light and blaring horns from the morning rush. The light was particularly rude, shining directly into Peter's eyes. Finding the blanket, he tossed it over his head. Opening his eyes, he found that he had tossed the blanket over (y/n)'s head as well.

(Y/n)

His fingers brushed her cheek thumb grazing her lips. He leans forward having their forehead touched and then their noses.

"(Y/n)" he whispered She began to mumble and move as she woke up but he held her in place pulling her closer to his body. " (Y/n)"

"hmm"

"You're 17"

"What?"

"You're 17"

She slowly opened her to see Peter lying in front of her she gave him a gentle kiss. Then her mind caught up with her and she realized what he said. She bolted upright.

"I'm 17"

Suddenly, her bedroom door was open, and her mother and May stepped in. There was a moment of silence.

"Happy late Birthday. Now get ready for school you have that English test today" Lilly said ignoring her blurry vision.

"Yes, ma'am." (y/n) said as she stood up. " Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"I love you"

"I love you too"

As Lilly closed the door May pulled her into her arms and allowed her to silently cry into her shoulder. Rubbing her back, telling her to let it all out, she needed this.

-

Tony watched as those going about their day walked by the open alley he was looking for one person though. He watched with baited breath as more and more people walked by but not the person he was looking for.

Until he did.

She was smiling and laughing, walking hand in hand with Peter. She was the happiest he had ever seen her he's never seen her happy before . Lilly also Came out with May also smiling. The group separated May and Lilly, crossing the street while Peter and (y/n) continued down the street, all the while still grinning and laughing.

He finally felt relief as he listened to her laughter go down the street.

Starting up the car, he pulled out of the alley and drove in the opposite direction of (y/n). Stopping at the next light he pulled up right next to Lilly and May. May didn't see him but Lilly did but she didn't say anything as they locked eyes she simply gave him a nod and kept walking.

(Y/n) was 17.

[yandere-to-express]

Goth and the thembo

Chapter 2


cw for obsessive behaviour and stalking, but, well, you guys knew that was coming, right? maybe the cw should just say "peter",,
(there's also some misgendering, but i promise it's very brief and non-hostile/unintentional!)

Dog barking. Microwave beeping. Smell of the instant meal they just pulled out. Big stretch...  

Breathe.  

“Be quiet, Blossom,” they sighed half-heartedly, already drained only 10 minutes after getting home. The little chihuahua sneezed confrontationally, staring out into the hallway, alert. It was probably the neighbour’s kids getting home from whatever sports club they usually attended. That, or their brothers were coming home after visiting whatever new friends they’d made at their own schools.  

They decided they were too tired to care.  

Legs weaving through the suddenly interested cats and dog now they were holding a plate of food with careful practise, Y/n carried it upstairs to their unfinished room, the blank walls staring at them almost accusingly with boxes of things that still had yet to be unpacked as they clicked the light-switch on.  

Speaking of unpacking...  

Y/n sighed as they sunk into their mattress, spoon in hand as they half-heartedly ate the curry on their plate, the events of the day almost dulling their usual favourite flavour down considerably, cheap chicken tikka masala not covering their taste buds in a comforting embrace the way it used to. Maybe it’s just the way it was made over here.  

Anyway.  

Yeah, they made a new friend in the least likely place, but that was nerve-wracking enough. They thought...They thought that because they got detention something terrible would happen. And when it didn’t...They didn’t know, the impending sense of doom still hadn’t left entirely, so it was exhausting enough just processing it from the comfort of their home. It was a miracle they hadn’t devolved into tears at school, especially with how loud it was in the cafeteria today.  

They couldn’t let that happen. They wouldn’t , this was a new start. They weren’t going to blow it like they did back in Year 7.  

...No, they weren’t thinking about that right now. They’d unpack that memory when they had the mental capacity to do so.  

...What were they thinking about again? Oh, right, school today.  

So yeah, double-period History was boring until Peter showed up, French 2 was a wash (seriously, they were thankful they took it as a GCSE before they left England, they were further ahead than they thought they’d ever be), Graphic Design just went over the same old stuff they already learned back home, and Algebra 2 was even easier like, c’mon! Algebra wasn’t supposed to be easy! At least move them up a few classes if it was like that! They were so worried about the past two years of GCSEs (as well as the three months of Sixth Form that they promptly – and gladly – abandoned when the family moved overseas around Christmas) being earned would be useless now they were here, but it just meant they were too far ahead! And they weren’t allowed to join the Seniors so late into the year either! Back in England they’d been so worried about having enough intelligence, but now they apparently had too much of the stuff, and it was irritating! They’d rather keep being a “gifted” student back in Years 1 to 6, thank you very much. At least AP Physics was more of a challenge, but, well, it was AP Physics . It didn’t get much harder than that, in their opinion.  

Why was all this a problem? Because without work that would take more than 25 minutes to complete on average, Y/n was terrible at focusing. Worksheet finished? You’d think that they would ask for more, right? Wrong , they just stared out the window absently, maybe doodling in a book that they brought for that purpose if they remembered, trying their best to keep their cool when the class got rowdy and the teacher had to shout over the noise to call the class to attention again. It was worse than back home, honestly. The classes were bigger, for one thing, so that immediately meant more noise.  

Man, maybe they should have just gone straight to college. Oh well, too late now.  

They licked their spoon clean as they finished their meal, just opting to leave the cutlery and plate on one of the piles of boxes to take down in the morning, closing their curtains (their parents insisted that they at least hang those up) as they shrugged off their zip-up hoodie, tiredly undressing ungracefully and throwing on some pyjamas. After leaving the room for a few minutes to brush their teeth (hey, they were an idiot who ate unhealthily and kept dirty dishes in their room, but oral hygiene was still one of their top priorities! ...thanks for scaring that into them, Mum), they reached into a small box by their bed, pulling out an old pink DS, checking the cartridge and settling on the game inside, ignoring Blossom’s barking as they heard their brothers return.  

Pokémon Platinum would help them out for now...  

Y/n woke up with a start, eyes snapping open as they heard movement outside. They wiped their bleary eyes as they looked around. They’d fallen asleep with their DS, it seemed, the melody of Jubilife City at night out of place as their anxiety rocketed. Was this the beginning of a robbery?! Were they being robbed?! They scrambled to pick up their DS, tapping the Pokétch a few times to get a sense of how late it was and-  

Oh. 11pm. That was when their dad got home from work, which was confirmed by the door creaking open downstairs, his mumbles of greeting to what Y/n assumed was their Mum or a brother muffled by the floorboards beneath them.  

Man, were they dumb, huh? They let out a shaky chuckle at their own stupidity, shutting their DS and putting it on the makeshift nightstand (you know, just a stack of boxes, like what anyone else has in their bedroom) next to their bed. They lay back down, screwing their eyes shut in an attempt to sleep.  

Surprisingly, it actually worked!  

...Unsurprisingly, they missed the way the moonlight cast a shadow on the figure sitting in the tree just outside their window...  

Ok, that was way too close for comfort.  

That old dude who went inside almost saw him, apparently there was a family dog that hated people walking by, and poor Y/n looked terrified! They looked as though they were about to die (no, not them, they’d never die, he’d make sure of it)! But, fuck, if the streetlight was just a few inches closer to the house...  

Peter shivered as he looked back into his darling’s darkened room with his huge, almost luminous, cerulean eyes, safe in the knowledge that not many other people would be out at this time, and none of them would see them from the sidewalk. He waited for what felt like an eternity, watching as the rest of the lights shut off before making his next move.  

His mother and sister picked on him for looking scrawny, but he hardly felt it as he lifted himself up on the branch above and hoisted himself onto the balcony and into the doors that they must have left open by mistake (honestly, it was February! Never mind the dangers of the world outside, what about the cold?! Oh, he’d have to take care of them, help them stay safe and healthy)…  

Unless they were expecting him...?  

He felt a shiver race through him, caused by the excitement and the chill (it was 23 degrees out there, ok?!) as he tip-toed into the room cautiously, praying to whatever deity out there that he didn’t step on some old, creaky floorboard. Thankfully, his darling’s room didn’t seem to have any (good, they deserved the best room in the world, he couldn’t bear to let someone as adorable as them to live uncomfortably, and they were so small! He was actually a little worried some of the piles of boxes would topple over and crush them!), and he was right by their side in a flash.  

He stood, watching over Raine with a little uncertainty of what to do now, looking at the rise and fall of their chest. They were wearing some pyjamas with some yellow fantasy animal thing on it (Pikachu, right? So adorable ...), and they gave a little snort as they slept, a little bit of drool escaping their mouth.  

If Y/n knew they looked like that while they slept? They would’ve been mortified.  

But, to Peter?  

They looked like an angel sent from the heavens. His darling angel. Fuck, how could anyone look so adorable and beautiful?  

...Well, the cold was no longer an issue for him, it seemed.  

Peter knelt down, placing his chin onto the mattress as he continued watching them breathe. Watching as their face scrunched up a few times, muttering nonsensical things out loud as they dreamed (he had no idea what a cookie cat was, but fuck, they were just so cute!) . He stayed there for hours, ignoring the plea for rest from his eyes as they drooped more and more. After the first half-hour, he’d gotten bolder and moved his face closer to theirs, able to smell their wavy brown hair (they must have used coconut scented shampoo before school, he realised, but God , it was addicting, he’d have to get some of his own just to be reminded of the scent of them ) and gently wipe away the line of drool leaking from their barely parted lips.  

...Deep within him he knew it was gross, but he licked the liquid away in a flash and, stars above , that was even better than their smell!  

He whispered praise to them as the night dragged on, petting their hair and caressing their cheek tenderly. He even got a little absent, sleepy nuzzle on the hand back (he was never washing that hand again)! His darling kept mumbling stuff about ice cream from outer space, and choosing something called a Bidoof (whatever it was, they giggled in their sleep about it being God, and, in case you hadn’t guessed yet, he did another mental bluescreen at how adorable they were being) to fight something called an Arceus?  

But then, they said something that made his heart (and, ok, maybe his pants) swell and his face turn bright red.  

“Mmph, Peter...Bite me...Sharp teeth...”  

Oh.  

Oh boy.  

The goth kind of just...sat there, staring at Y/n in bewilderment.  

Yesyesyesyesyes darling, he could do that!  

He cursed under his breath, averting his gaze out of bashfulness (somehow, he had some shame still left inside!), and pausing as he noticed the sky outside was brightening.  

Fuck , he’d been there all night!  

Peter hesitantly got up, looking back at Y/n as he made his way back to the balcony. The sun was only just peeking up behind the horizon, but it was enough for some golden rays to hit his darling’s body.  

Yeah. He was right. They had to be an angel, they looked so fucking beautiful and peaceful like that.  

He wouldn’t mind waking up next to them like that in the bed, some day.  

He shook his head, brushing his ebony hair out of his face, gazing over Y/n face and body one last time, before hopping out the balcony and back into the tree, scaling down it carefully and landing a little clumsily onto the wet grass. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and hesitantly walking away, back towards where the school and his own house was.  

He was going to be so exhausted today.  

...It was totally worth it, though.  

“Someone’s chipper today,” Lucy noted as Y/n skipped into the classroom, sitting next to her with a smile. “You’re even in on time! Did Detention really scare you so much that you didn’t wanna be late again?” 
“Good morning to you too,” they frowned teasingly, pulling out a little sketchbook and their pencil case. “Nope, I just...I dunno, I didn’t sleep in for once. I actually slept great for the first time in, what? Ever?” 
“You look it, your eye-bags are basically gone!” 
“Oh, no, that’s makeup. But! I actually had time to put some on for once!” 
“Aww, Y-Y growin’ up!” Lucy teased and wiping pretend tears away and, patting them on the back and jokingly wiping away a tear. “But, how was Detention by the way?” 
“Oh, great, actually. I got some work done and I made a new friend,” Y/n admitted, beginning to doodle. Lucy smiled widely, seeming to be genuinely happy. 
“Good for you! I’ve noticed that my crowd seems to put you off – don’t give me that look, I’ve seen your face, I’ve worn that face, I’m only still around those loud assholes because they’re Vio’s friends, so I know how you feel – but, seriously. I’m happy for you, now you’ll have someone less obnoxious than the soccer team!” 
“You’re talking to me as if I have no friends other than you,” Y/n raised an eyebrow at her, grinning. 
“You know what I mean! You only really hang out with me and Vio, as well as that nerd in your History and Physics classes. TJ?” 
“TK, and they’re a sweetheart, I’ll have you know.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but, anyway! Who’s your friend?” 

Y/n glanced down at the doodle and realised that without thinking, they’d drawn the new friend himself.  

“Oh, take a look, I just finished a drawing of him,” they pointed. Lucy followed their finger, their smile dropping as her violet eyes widened, pupils contracting. 
“No,” she hissed quietly, whipping her head back to face the other, panicked. Y/n groaned at her expression. “Not him! You can’t be friends with him, he’s- well HE FUCKING CURVE STOMPED A JOCK AND TEEETH ARE ALL GONE!” 
“Trouble? Yeah, I know, TK told me, but he was nice enough to me!” Y/n whispered back, frowning. Lucy shook her head violently, ignoring how her earrings bashed against her cheeks as they swung on her ears. 
“You can’t! Peter King is- He's-” 
“If he ends up being horrible, I’ll just back off! I’ll be fine, Lulu!” 
“But!-” 

“Excuse me, girls,” came Mrs Stewart’s voice and, ew, there’s only one girl here, Y/n grimaced, Lucy frowning as she caught on too. “Could we have some silence whilst I do roll-call, please?” 
“Sorry Miss,” Y/n slumped, staring down at their paper. Lucy continued to look on with irritation at the teacher, absently squeezing their hand in comfort. 

Soon enough, registration passed, and the class continued with its noise before the first bell went off to signify the change in classes. Lucy looked at Y/n, eyes worried.  

“She’s a shit teach, huh?” 
“I’m used to it, it was worse back in the UK,” Y/n shrugged, packing their things away so they wouldn’t have to hurry when the time came. Lucy sighed. 
“I’m sorry, y/n, I- Fuck, not just that old bat, but about Peter. I’m just- I don’t want you getting hurt, ok? And, well, he makes others hurt a lot. But, if you wanna try, I won’t stop you. You’ll tell me if he does hurt you though, yeah? Vio and the boys’ll kick his ass for you, heck, I’ll join in! It’d put my brown belt to good use!” 
“Thanks, Lulu,” Y/n smiled, picking up their bag as the bell rang. “And, hey, I can beat him up too if I have to! I do swimming! I have the muscle!” 
“You’re a bit small compared to him, Y-Y.” 
“So’s everyone else!” 
“You’re 5’4!” 

They paused as they walked, before laughing loudly.  

“Ah, whatever, you probably won’t need to, anyway. See you at Break?” 
“See ya, good luck in the halls!” Lucy shouted over the noise, grinning as she made her way to her Business class. Y/n sighed, looking back at her momentarily before pushing on through the crowds. 
“I’ll fucking need it,” they grumbled getting pushed to-and-fro by all the taller students, pulling up their hood and tugging on the cord to block out the smell of deodorant and teenage sweat as they made their way to a hopefully quiet classroom. 

Media had better have some sort of challenge today.

[totallyanopossum]

Peter x y/n, well behaved quiet girl x class problem boy, roommate, awkward,cute

Why You ?

WC:1.9k

Link to story master post

Part 1, Roommates

The curse of being the well behaved quiet girl in class who always gets seated next to the worst behaving guy in hopes of calming them, strikes again as she is seated next to Peter King. Luckily he doesn't show up to English class too often, and it's the only one with double desks.

She keeps her head down and keeps interactions to a minimum, telling him the page number, giving him a pen, or one time whispering the answer when he was called on.

Sometimes she feels him staring at her but she doesn't dare look up and meet his harsh gaze. Even though out of curiosity she does look at him from afar, either in the hall or lunch room. She can't deny that she's got a thing for his goth look, if only he wasn't so scary, if only she hadn't seen him beat so many people to a pulp.

Now she can't even be free of him, she's seated next to him and now paired up with him for a project in history. Great, now they have to actually interact and spend time one on one.

She can't escape the guy she's scared of but also has a slight crush on, fan-fucking-tastic.

Luckily it doesn't take long to settle things, 2 quick meetings, the first to divide work, the second to put their pieces together. To her surprise he quality checks her work, usually that's what she does, but whatever he looks cute reading. How his hair falls to the front while he looks down at her paper, and how he blows at the hair but that only temporarily moves it aside, and how after a few attempts of blowing at it he mumbles slightly annoyed and runs his finger through his hair brushing it all back.

This keeps happening all year getting paired together, but the repetition has calmed her anxieties about being near him, like some kinda weird exposure therapy. He's not so bad, at least not to her and that's what counts in her book. But that doesn't mean she'll never admit her crush to him, he tolerates her right now and doesn't want to risk that, plus the rumor is Peter doesn't date so no real point in exposing her feelings.

Peter 🔗🔪

I need a place to stay the night. 9:25pm

What's your address?? 9:28pm

9:30pm. What? Why ask me,

ask one of your friends

You're the only one who 9:35pm

tolerates me

9:39pm Okay fine, text when

you get here

She can't believe she's agreed to this, can't believe she's his only option, but she can't leave him out in the cold. Asking for help probably wasn't easy for him.

She cleans up a bit, getting her dirty clothes off the floor, putting her dishes in the washer, and putting on some pants. The place is still messy but only so much can be done, so this is fine.

Peter 🔗🔪

I'm here 10:15Pm

She goes to the door, has a moment of hesitation as she gets hit with a wave of anxiety, but it's too late to jump ship now.

She opens the door, and wow she's never seen him look so not him. Yeah he's got the right outfit and stuff but he's lacking the imposing, aggressive, confidence. He looks like a wet dog that's very upset it was washed, you know the sad defeated eyes look.

Y/N- “ come in”

Peter- “ thanks”

Even his voice sounds defeated, what the hell happening. Wait, is he actually wet, oh not in my house.

Y/N- “ shoes off and why are you wet?”

He complies, taking off his shoes, it takes a while with all the buckles. He sees she's still waiting for an answer, he doesn't want to talking about it, he already hates that he's had to ask for her help and look so pathetic in front of her.

Peter- “ hose, it's clean water”

Y/N- “ okay, come on, follow”

He follows her to the bathroom, where she gives him a towel and tells him to strip. Wow, when did she get so confident.

Y/N- “ brb i'll bring you some clothes”

Luckily she likes oversized clothes to chill around the house in, there just so much cozier. So she has some things that will fit him, well mostly, she has to hem her pants because they are all too long so Peter will just have to deal with that.

When she gets back to the bathroom she didn't expect to see a shirtless Peter struggling to remove his wet jeans with her towel draped over his head. She just hopes she didn't freeze and stare at him too long.

Y/N- “ here these should fit”

Peter- “ thanks”

She leans against the wall in the hall waiting for him to come out. He finally does.

Peter- “umm the boxers, you got a bf or ex, who's underwear am I wearing?”

Y/N- “ mine, their comfortable, nice to wear around the house”

He's glad he's not wearing some other dude's underwear, but knowing he's wearing her’s is a bit more unsettling to his nerves in a whole new way.

She grabs his wrist to see if he's cold, and he is still a bit too cold for her liking. She doesn't want him to get sick, partly for her own benefit but also out of concern for him.

Y/N- “ do you drink tea or you want hot chocolate?”

Peter- “no i don't need anything”

Y/N- “ this is an either or question, your getting a hot drink, pick”

Peter- “ hot chocolate”

He follows and watches as she gets the kettle going, gets out 2 cups and starts scooping different powders into them. The kettle whistles and she flicks her jacket's sleeve down to cover her hand, using it as a heat pad to grab the kettle, how odd and cute using her sleeve instead of the readily available pot holders. She pours the water and stirs, he recognizes her focused look, the same look she has when she's working on a doodle in her notebook. There was one of her drawings he really liked and wanted as a tattoo but couldn't ask.

Y/N- “ it's ready”

He joins her at the counter and takes the cup pushed in his direction. He doesn't know why she's insisted on giving him a hot drink but he's not gonna say no. With her current assertive attitude he's not sure how well saying no to her would go and doesn't wanna risk it. She's welcomed him into her home so last minute after, he's trying to remember his manners right now.

Peter- “ thanks,... this is nice”

Y/N- “your welcome”

They have their drinks in awkward silence, she doesn't push him to say what's happened and risk angering him and he doesn't want to admit what happened and make himself so vulnerable.

Y/N- “ so do you a place to say for the night or a few days”

Peter- “ Oh umm, I don't wanna be a bother just the night”

Y/N- “ If you need to stay a few days it's okay really”

She knows what it's like to have nowhere to go and back then she had no one to call or turn to, so now that she is on the other side she won't turn him out no matter how much it hurts his pride to ask for help.

She walks around the counter to stand face to face with him and musters all her courage.

Y/N- “you don't have to explain and I won't ask but if you have no place to go, no place safe you'll stay here, and that's also not a question”

Hearing her voice crack as she speaks, how she's getting emotional over this, and is starting to tear up makes him panic a bit, he has no clue how to soothe someone who's crying, only know how to make them cry.

Peter- “ I'll stay, thank you”

Y/N- “good”

She grabs a blanket and pillow from her room and gets the couch made up for him, luckily the couch is long so he should be able to lay down without his feet hanging over the edge.

He stands back out of the way, she looks cute going about fixing things up for him. She takes so much care in every task, he's never had someone fluff a pillow for him, hell he's never done that for himself.

She's walking all about taking care of things so he decides to pick up after himself and take care of his wet clothes. He fishes all his stuff from the pockets and hangs his clothes over the shower curtain rod. Finding his camel pack the urge to smoke hits hard.

Peter- “ umm Y/N should I step out or?”

He holds up the cigarette pack to back up his vague words.

Y/N- “ there's a small balcony over here”

She pulls back the thick black out curtains revealing the screened in balcony that was completely hidden prior. She slides open the door and waves him over.

He steps out and goes to close the door behind him but she stops him, placing her hand next to his on the door. This closeness makes them lock eyes, both a bit unnerved and having a rush of feelings one wants to deny and the other is struggling to recognize.

Both jerk their hands away from the door and look in opposite directions, trying to clear away whatever had just flooded through them. A moment of awkward silence does the trick.

Y/N- “ I don't mind the smell, you can keep the door open”

Peter- “ really most find it disgusting, I'm not ever sure I like it”

Y/N- “ i umm, i don't really have memories of my father but I remember what he smelled like, gold camel cigarettes. I associate the smell with safety, home, love…. Yeah I'm messed up I'll just let you be”

She walks off cursing herself for oversharing such a personal thing. Oh I must have sounded crazy, fuck. She tries to distract herself from her stupid mind by gathering some supplies for him, hairbrush, toothbrush, hair ties, ect.

He's amazed she likes the smell, but secretly kinda glad, most people make disgusted or judgmental faces when he smokes, but she associates it with such sweet things. He doesn't want to like her, doesn't want to have a crush and have all those confusing vulnerable feelings but knowing she likes things about him is tallied in the good column in case he ever gets over his fear of vulnerability.

While he's coming back from the balcony he sees her placing a pile of things on the coffee table.

Y/N- “ for you, some essentials”

Peter- “ your really good at this whole hosting thing”

She gives him a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, it looks more sad than anything else. He wonders why? What's the reason she's so emotional about having him stay?

Y/N- “ well it's late I'm gonna go to bed, you need anything else”

Peter- “ phone charger”

Y/N- “ Look through the cords around the lamp one should work”

She had her own system of organizing so cords she would need when on the couch are kept around the base of the standing lamp next to the couch.

Y/N- “ good night peter”

Peter- “ good night Y/N”

[leastdatablebracket]

FINAL ROUND

Propaganda under the cut!

Solas

He believes all mortal beings deserve to die. He is bald but in a very unsexy way. He exudes zero chemistry and talking to him about romance is like talking to a boiled egg. 

Described by major media as "elf hitler," he dumps you to destroy the world

He is a smelly know it all, and that's before you find out he is a deity in disguise who caused the rift you spend the game trying to fix in the first place and he betrayed you and chopped off your hand

Breaks up with you, disappears without saying anything, plans to destroy the world

Look. I’ll admit I have not personally romanced solas. I am baffled that anyone would WANT to romance solas. I know we all love a waify little elf wizard with questionable motivations but jfc look at him like im trying not to say anything demeaning about bald dudes but he does not wear it well. Also iirc you can only romance him if you’re also an elf and then he’s weirdly rude and dismissive if your character is Into Elf Culture. Look im a huge lesbian but Iron Bull is RIGHT FUCKING THERE why would you do this.

Peter King

Oh I could go ON AND ON but here’s a list: He’s a stalker, he showed up late to a date HE REQUESTED, he killed either your landlord, roommate, or coworker (depending on route) and stuck them in a freezer, lied to the police about it, followed by a car ride either consisting of traumadumping about his family (valid tbh) or him talking about how much he wants to fuck your brains out, then you finding a bloody knife in his glove compartment, asking about it, and him smashing your head into the window to shut you up while he takes you to his house. He is The Worse Datable, as well as The Only Datable because well…he killed the others…and kidnapped you….

FUCK THIS DUDE!!! Country Human looking-ass bitch, I want him dead and obliterated

Many violence, Yandere behavior, cut your leg off in a semi-canon series of illustrations, smashed your head into the passenger side window of his creepy van, chloroformed you in your own house, brought you flowers that were probably tainted with his own blood, given context from another route. Generally a terrible person. Also just very strange to look at :/

He knows what he did….😒

He broke into Y/N’s house and chloroformed them. Generally a really creepy and perverted guy. TK is better :/

Send that man to Worst Datable Hell! Put him in the trash file (he’s a pseudo-sentient AI, similar to Monika, so this threat is valid)! He sometimes looks like a kicked puppy when talking to you, but with your small contributions, we can make him look even more like a kicked puppy! Vote Peter King for Worst Datable Datable Character today! Bonus: Funny canon facts about him! - He can’t swim - He’s allergic to peanuts - He has to wear glasses, but usually wears contacts - He had an emo/goth phase in high school - He’s a YouTuber; he does product reviews - He has very strong mother issues (understandably) - He will respond to and greatly enjoy the nickname “Cockbite” (there are many other names he enjoys, but this one’s the funniest to me)

[abismo636]

[itzddsyanderefanacc]

💗High-school DD (AU)💗

(Fandoms: YBG & MDHM)

I had a cute little design idea for my Y/N-sona for the high-school au(s)!!

since mdhm and ybg do their character designs in a similar way I thought a crossover could be possible where the characters of ybg and the characters from mdhm would have gone to the same high-school!!

yesss a love triangle would happen, cutesy little skater alan and big old goth boy peter would be fighting for her would ensue cause hehe and cute :3

I will draw more for this later!! (Like more characters, skits and stuff, I've just been drawing a lot today and my fingers are tierd)

I hope you guys like it!💜