Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He. Keep. Staring at you!
Why? What did you do? You got here a month ago!

Things started so well. You moved school, got a part-time job at Dad's Damn Diner, and even made friends. Things were looking good. But noooo, God forbid you felt happy for once in your life.

"What's up newbie? You look... distracted," whispers Lucy, sitting next to you.

"Nothing, just bored. I hate this teacher."

You try your best to ignore Peter's stare. You know he is looking at you right now because he is always looking at you. It's not paranoia, it's reality. You always feel his eyes on you, burning like a laser. it's not curiosity, it's something sinister...

"You're lying," states Lucy putting her arm around your shoulders. "Come on, tell me what's on your mind." 

"Lulu, I'm trying to listen to the teacher," you mumble, struggling to keep your concentration on your worksheet.

She leans closer to you, looking around suspiciously.

"Is it because of Peter?"

Touché.

"Don't you think he's always... staring at me?" 

Lulu, who visibly forgot how to be discreet, turn around to engage in a staring contest with the most feared kid in school. He growls, giving her a splendid "fuck you". She rolls her eyes in response.

"Yeah, he's been weird lately."

"Why? Is he angry at me? We never interacted, I don't understand."

" Maybe he just wants to bang you."

"Lulu! This is serious, I'm panicking over there!"

"I'm mean, he's not the only one who wants you. Have you seen Josh? He totally wants to fuck"

"Stop thinking about sex for one minute, please," you beg her.

"But don't fuck Josh. He's an ass."

You give up trying to reason with her. You really like Lucy, but she can be so annoying sometimes. Whatever, the bell is ringing, and you have work to do.

You dunk a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. It's almost time to leave, you can do it Y/N. 

"You ready to go?"

"I am! Do you need a ride home?"

"It's okay, I'll just walk. Thanks though!"

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"You're too sweet TK," you say, wiping your hands on your dirty apron. "I'm going to clock out. See you tomorrow!"

"Take care!" TK smiles and waves you goodbye.

TK really is the sweetest. They always make you smile, even when you're almost sobbing after a rude client yelled at you because you didn't refill his glass fast enough. You even suspected they might have a little crush on you. You liked TK, but you couldn't see them as more than a good friend. Not to mention you didn't have the time for a relationship.

You exit the diner. You live with your parents pretty close to your workplace, it shouldn't take you too long. You walk down the empty streets. The sun is already gone, and the cold wind makes you shiver. Walking home alone so late might have been a bad choice. Maybe you should have taken on TK's offer.
You speed up, covering your face with the hood of your coat, still alone in the dead of night.

Or it's what you think until you notice a shadow on your left. A tall, thin, and awfully familiar shadow. Is that...?

Is that Peter?

No, no, it's not him. Definitely not.

You are now closer to him. You smell tobacco and your hands start shaking. You feel his eyes on you. Burning like a laser.

No. You're going insane. It's not Peter. It's just a random guy staring at you. You're perfectly safe, don't worry. 
You know what? Let's check! Yes, perfect plan. Let's establish dominance. This creep is looking at you? You're going to look at him! 

Your eyes meet two glowing pupils. Blue. Peter's blue eyes are staring right at you.

Oh, Fuck me.

Why?? Why is he here? Is he stalking you? Is school not enough for him? Now he wants to terrify you in the streets?

Or does he wants to get violent? If that's the case, you better sign your will right then and there! Peter fights like a pro, and you have the strength of a newborn sloth

You're walking past him!
Calm down! Calm down GODDAMMIT

The street is narrow. If he wants to grab you, we're done. 

You're getting closer. Peter flicks his cigarettes and lets it fall to the ground. He straightens up and rolls his shoulder like he's preparing for a big chase.

You realize you two are alone. The street is quiet, and the night's dark is ready to swallow your screams, maybe silencing you forever.

Fuck it. 

You run. You sprint like your life depends on it, because that might be what's happening!

You run and don't stop until you reach your building.

You enter the hall. Thank god you live on the ground floor, no need to wait for the elevator. Safe at last.

You shakingly try to unlock the door. You notice your aching legs, the sweat on your body, and the taste of blood in your mouth. You feel like you're about to cough out your lungs and the door refuses to cooperate. 
Breathe. You're safe.
The door opens.

You wrap a towel around you and wipe off the steam on the mirror. What an eventful night. You distractedly dry your face. You look like a steamed bun, but the shower helped.

Maybe It wasn't Peter. He's not the only tall skinny blue-eyed man on Earth. And even if it was Peter, he's allowed to be in his own city. You think you're just being paranoid. You've been so stressed lately.

Let's not think about it anymore. You're home, you're safe and It's bedtime.

Go to sleep, you deserve it.

Chapter Text

"I don't know, he started rolling his shoulder? I got scared and ran home as fast as I could. Don't you think it's weird?"

Lucy sips her strawberry milkshake. The school cafeteria isn’t the best place to chat and you need to yell for her to hear you. Not very safe, considering Peter is sitting just behind you.

“He’s been weird since you got here, that’s for sure.”

“I knew it! he wants to kill me...”

Lucy rub your back. Even if she’ll never admit it, it pains her to see you so stressed. “It’s okay newbie.”

“But it’s not okay...” you weep. “I just got here and someone already hates me.”

“But everyone else loves you!”

You smile cheerlessly. Lucy hugs you tightly, placing an affectionate kiss on your cheek. You giggle and Lucy rubs your head.

“That’s what I like to hear! Cheer up, babe!”

"You're the best!"

You walked down the long corridor, lucy's arm wrapped around yours. Half the school was still eating so it was easier to navigate through the hallway. 
Lucy was busy babbling about last night's assignment when she was violently slammed against the wall.

Peter had forcefully shoved himself between you and Lucy, throwing her against the concrete surface, disappearing as quickly as he came.

"Oh my god! Lulu are you okay?!"

"Oww... I'm good," she yelps, rubbing the back of her head. The shove seemed brutal enough to crack a rib. "What's his fucking problem?"

"You want to go to the nurse?"

"I'm not made of sugar... Who the fuck does he think he is?"

"WHO the FUCK does she thinks she is?!" growls Peter, lighting a cigarette. How dare she? How dare she corrupts his Darling? Even worse, she turning you against him! Peter knows exactly what's her plan: Isolate you to take advantage of you! WHY do you care so much about some manipulative STD-ridden whore?! WHY did you let her get close to you, touching you, KISSING you?! It was supposed to be him! It was supposed to be him kissing your cheek! You were supposed to love him! Why are you so close to her? Why is everyone so close to you?!

Peter needs a moment. If he sees that pest near you again, he'll gouge her eyes out and he doesn't want to get in serious trouble. He needs to be available 24/7 to protect you. But now, thanks to LUCY, he's way too worked up to go to class. He'll have to skip this afternoon.

The only good thing about this French class is that you're close to a side exit. Otherwise, you would have to go all the way to the main hall. You reach for the handle, but the door swings open and you collide with someone's torso.

"Hello there..." Josh approaches you with a smile on his face. "Got a moment to spare?"

"Hi, Josh. Can I help you?"

"Just have a question about our English homework... Question C, do we need to use the book or just the extract? 

"No, you need the book too. Chapter 3 I think."

"Chapter 3," he notes, writing your answer on his phone."Thanks, Y/N, you're a lifesaver."

"No worries." you smile, trying to tactfully end the conversation.

"You're the studious kind, aren't ya?" Josh puts his arm in front of you to prevent you to leave.

"Haha, I guess..."

"Would ya like to get your cute head out your books?"

"Errr, what?"

"Ya see, my buddy Hunter is throwing a party this Saturday."

"Oh really?"

"Hell yeah, I am!" Affirm said-Hunter leaning on the wall behind you.

Fuck! He just appeared out of nowhere?

"Ya want to come?"

"That's very nice, but I'll pass."

"Come on! It'll be fun! Even your friend Lucy is invited," insists Hunter towering over you.

"No sorry. Plus, I work on Saturday." You try to step aside to exit the uncomfortable conversation, but Josh snags your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

"Oh, don't be like that sugar!"

"Hey!"

Peter grabs Josh by the hair and smashes his head in the door.

Chapter Text

The only sound in the principal's waiting room is the secretary's fake nails hitting the keyboard.

Josh is holding an ice pack on his forehead. You're surprised he's not in the hospital surrounded by surgeons desperately trying to repair his shattered skull.

Peter is sitting next to you, growling every time Hunter breathes in your direction.

How the fuck did that happened? Why couldn't you just use the main exit? 

Let's just hope it all goes well. It's your first time being sent to the principal and you're terrified.

You're shy, okay? Especially with authority figures. One time, when you were eleven, the teacher scolded you for forgetting your worksheet. You cried so hard you threw up all over your table. 

But you didn't do anything wrong? Right? You're just a witness. You'll be out of here soon. Or maybe not. Maybe he'll call your parents? If your parents learn that you were sent to the principal...

Hey! No overthinking!

Peter is not really sitting next to you, he is smothering you between the wall and his own body.

Damn, this guy loves pushing people against surfaces.

He's so close you're practically sitting on his lap. It's a bizarre situation. He's sheltering you like you're a big pile of gold and he's some fairytale dragon.

You didn't take the time to observe Peter, mainly because he spent the last weeks creeping you out, but you have to admit he's quite handsome, in a way. If only he wasn't fucking crazy. You have a thing for Dark and mysterious Bad Boys, Not lunatics, and I-Will-Intentionally-Hurt-Your-Friend-for-No-Apparent-Reasons Bad Boys.

"Principal Williams will see you now."

Here you are, standing in front of headmaster Williams, aka Mr. D. Williams, aka the school's principal aka "Major Fucking DILF" according to Lucy. He looks strict, to say the least.

"Everyone sit down," ordered the principal. Peter sits between you and the two other guys. "Tell me what happened.

Chapter Text

"When it's over, I'm driving you home, Darling."

"Really? You don't have to..."

This "boyfriend" thing is getting a little too far for your liking. You thought he only did it to... To what? Annoy the headmaster? To intimidate you? Whatever is the reason, you're starting to feel a little uneasy.

Then why are you wrapped tightly around him and letting him whisper sweet nothing into your ears?

Not gonna lie, his hands gently playing with your hair did feel pretty nice but not nice enough to make you overlook the thousands of questions in your head.

Your boyfriend brings a lock of your hair to his face and kisses it. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?" he smirks.

You don't know if it's the kiss, his sultry voice, his devious smirk, or your crippling anxiety, but your stomach twits and wring violently. You barely manage to connect three brain cells to mutter something that vaguely sounds like "okay" before you plant your face in his chest to hide your embarrassment. He chuckles. "Oh Sugar, don't hide your pretty face from me..." 

You turn bright red and can't stop a nervous smile. "Stop iiiit!"

"Sorry, you're too cute! I just want to eat you!"

Your heart misses a beat.

Eat me?

"Principal Williams will see you now."

"I didn't do anything?!"

"Yes, you did. Last time, I gave you a warning. Now you face the consequences."

Josh frantically tries to defend himself, without success. Peter snickered, ignoring the headmaster's severe eyes.

You barely register what's happening, too focused on what Peter said earlier. His words replay in your head like a scratch record. "Eat me..."

The meeting passes in a blur. You only understand that Peter is given Weekend detention ( Wich is gracious considering what you've witnessed.)

"... And you can go home. Peter, you too. Y/N?"

You snap out. "Me?"

"You can go home. If you have any problems, my door's open."

"Thank you Mr. Will- Don! Thank you."

Peter places his hand on your lower back, guiding you out of the establishment. "Let's go, honey."

You nod your head. Finally out of the office fatigue hit you like a ton of bricks and you feel like you're about to collapse. You gather all your strength to keep walking, not that Peter would have minded carrying you to his van.

You already knew Peter's van. The creepiest vehicle known to mankind, the kind of van you see in PSA about kidnapping. From what you heard, Peter's family was upper-middle class-ish, surely they could help him get something better than this. But you also heard that Peter hates his family, so surely there is something deeper.

Peter opens the door for you. To your surprise, the interior is pretty clean. You expected to have to fight fast-food wrappers and cigarette butts to make room for your feet. He even has a little red car freshener dangling next to you. You notice a pocket knife but aside from that, it's oddly normal. No empty vodka bottle, high-grade explosives, or cooler full of organs. It's maybe too clean, too normal. The car feels artificial like it's trying too hard to look innocent.

Peter closes the doors and drives away. You stay quiet, too weirded out and tired to attempt a conversation. Peter is focused on the road, sparring an occasional glance in your direction.

Approaching your building, you finally open your mouth. "You need to drop me at the bus stop. If my neighbors see me with you, I'll get grounded for life."

"No problems sweetie."

If parks next to the bus stop. You unbuckle your seat belt. "Well... Thanks for the ride. See you on Monday."

You try to open the door but it stays shut.

"Child lock is on," he explained, looking straight into your soul.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Peter keeps staring at you, his big blue eyes not blinking once.

"... Can you open the door?"

You can feel your hands quivering. Without turning his gaze, Peter lingers his fingers over a button.

"Please?"

Before he can answer, you press the button. The doors unlock and you throw yourself out of the van. You grab your bags and run towards your building.

Peter really did make you run a lot, huh?

Chapter Text

"Do you want a drink for your break?" Tk asks, handing you a plate of greasy bacon.

"Expresso, please."

The diner is quiet today. The kitchen operates smoothly. The clients are chill, the boss is in a good mood, TK's smile is as radiant as ever and the other waitress is dynamic.

You? Oh, you look like shit.

You feel like shit too. Yesterday was a nightmare. After escaping Peter's creepy van, you rushed home and were confronted by your mother. You had to explain everything to her. Well, not everything, just the bare minimum. You barely swallowed a bite at dinner, forgot to tidy up your room, and unpack your bag. You were exhausted but didn't sleep. The images kept replaying in your head again and again and again and again...

Why did he pretend to be your boyfriend? Why did you let him act like your boyfriend? Why was he staring at you like that? Why did you let him drive you home? Wait... HOW DOES HE KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE??

You never felt this close to insanity before. Every single question you asked yourself brought up three more. You rolled around in your bed all night, soaking your sheets with sweat and maybe even tears. You just couldn't sleep! Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Peter. His blue eyes staring right into your soul, his strong hands caressing your cheeks after beating up someone. 

During your very short naps, you dreamed that you were stranded in the ocean. The salty water coated your skin, mixing with your tears. Peter was a shark, circling you, grinning, laughing, your cries sounded like music to his ears. He was swimming while you were drowning for his entertainment. After what felt like hours, He lunged at you. You felt his teeth sinking in your stomach and your spine shattering. You then woke up, scared and soaked to realize your nap was 15 minutes long.

The same nightmare happened again, and again and again until your alarm went off. 

"Is something wrong, Y/N?" TK gently bumps your shoulder.

"Uh?"

"Do you have a fever?  You should go home, I can cover you for the rest of your shift.

"No, no I'm fine. Just tired." You drink your coffee, the bitterness making you tear up. "I don't know how you make the coffee but I already feel better."

"It's made with love", they joke, sipping their oat milk latte.

You chuckle and empty your second cup.

"Thank you for the drink, TK."

"Don't mention it. You're in dire need of caffeine." 

"Maybe I should get a third cup..."

"You really shouldn't."

"But I got like, less than an hour of sleep last night!"

"Sounds horrible, but you still shouldn't. I saw you come in to work with an empty energy drink too."

"Yesterday was the worst day of my life, I think I deserve more coffee. You know, to cope." 

"What happened yesterday?"

You freeze. You don't even know how to explain. "Uuhhh... I was sent to the principal. Among other things."

"The principal? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything wrong! I witnessed a fight and Mr. Williams wanted me to tell him my perspective." That's not entirely false. You just didn't include who fought, why they did, how you ended up with a new boyfriend and how you sobbed in the headmaster's office. A wonderful memory.

"You didn't get in trouble? Good. You're not the kind of person who gets sent to the principal regularly."

"What is that supposed to mean?" You fake an outraged expression that makes your coworker chuckle.

"It means that you hate breaking the rules. Remember when you spilled a drink and almost cried?"

"HEY! We agreed to never talk about this again!" You try to look annoyed but you can't stop laughing.

"I know, sorry!"

"Anyway, back to work!"

"Your break isn't over!"

"I need to move. The caffeine makes me jittery. By the way, what are your plans for lunch? I want to try out the new Japanese restaurant."

"I'm meeting my parents, sorry."

"It's okay. I'll just eat delicious sushis without you!" You tease, grabbing your apron and going back to work.

Work was busy enough to make you forget about Peter for a few hours. Now, that japanese restaurant... What will you order? 

A hand grips your shoulder, pulling you out of your thought. You turn around and face Peter.

"Peter! My god, you scared me!"

He stays quiet, holding you by the shoulder. Your stomach twist and not because you're hungry. What now? 

"Do you need something?"

Still no responses. Peter looks around nervously. 

That's it he's going to kidnap you! He's hiding his left hand behind his back because he has a fucking weapon!

"lunch..." He mumbles, barely audible.

"What?"

"wi me..."

"Peter I can't understand what you're sayi-"

"Do you want to have lunch with me!?" He shrieks, hiding his face behind his long hair.

WHAT

"What?" You wouldn't have been more surprised if he transformed into a horse before your eyes. Peter looks away nervously, not answering the millions of questions that just popped into your head.

"I know you're on your lunch break... So... Can I have the pleasure of taking you out? To eat... To eat food!"

That man is absolutely panicking. He can't even look you in the eyes. Was this the same Peter you were with yesterday? What is happening?

"And I got you this!" He reveals what he was hiding behind his back: a plain white box.

"For me?"

Peter nods frantically handing you the box. You open it carefully and see two red roses bound by a beautiful black ribbon. He got you flowers? 

"It's not a bouquet but I thought they looked pretty."

You never got flowers before. Not on your birthday, or after an important exam. You look up and see Peter anxiously waiting for your reaction.

You never felt so touched. Your heart feels all warm and fuzzy.

You smile. "It's beautiful... Thank you, Peter. I love roses." You smell the flowers. The fragrance is so fresh and vibrant.

Peter beams with joy. He looks like you just gave him a beautiful present.

You place the flower back into the box. "Lunch sounds nice," you say.

"What? Really?"

"Where do you want to eat?"

"Me? I don't know... You pick!" He sounds so happy! 

"Do you like japanese food? There is a new restaurant that just opened."

"Yes! Sounds great!" He's like a child meeting Santa for the first time.

You both start walking toward the restaurant. The flower's sweet aroma still entrances you when you gently take his hand in yours.

Chapter Text

Peter is using his last bit of self-control to stay still and not jump up and down like a kid. You said yes! You said YES! Oh, staring at you for an hour and a half, just the two of you... It's the definition of heaven... And maybe, maybe, a first kiss! Maybe, if he behaves really well, he might feel your mouth against his. Your divine lips caressing his unworthy skin...

"What do you want to eat?"

"Oh... I don't know, that's a lot," he stutters. How can he look at the menu when such a delicious creature is sitting in front of him?

You lean across the table and offer different dishes on the plastic sheet.

"What about this one?"

"It says it's spicy..." Peter is whispering, almost ashamed, like his opinion on spicy food could make you end the date right then and there.

"Don't like spice?"

"Not really... It hurts my tongue."

You giggle. "It's true, but it hurts in a good way. What kind of food do you like?"

"I love anything sweet."

"Me too, it's so good... Oh, look! Do you like this? It's one of my favorites."

You point at the menu. your fingers brush against him, making Peter's poor heart skip a beat.   

God, you're so close! He can smell you, your luscious scent makes his head spin. He wants to bury his face in your hair, lick the sweat pearling in the crook of your neck. Oh, Darling, he'd give everything to pin you against the table and make you scream.

"-ter? Peter?"

"Huh?"

"Are you ready to order?" 

"It's my first date," he confesses.

"Really?" You raise your eyebrows.

Peter nods. He's fighting against his chopsticks, unable to pick up anything.

"Let me help you," you giggle, taking his hand in yours. "Put your thumb here." He tries to use the chopstick again, this time with success. You clap for Peter's victory, making him blush like a tomato.

"To our first date!" You toast and raise your glass. Peter beams with happiness. "It's too bad my lunch break is so short. What time is it?"

Peter takes out his phone from his pocket. You spot his wallpaper. "Is that a snake?"

"Yeah, her name is Rat. Do you want to see more pictures?"

"You named her after what she eats? That's so mean! Let me see," you laugh and take Peter's phone. You see pictures of a little snake rolled in a bun happily toasting in her big terrarium. "Aww, so cute! Can I see more?" you coo, swapping on the screen looking for more of Peter's baby.

"WAIT!" Peter desperately reaches for his phone. Please don't scroll, Please don't scroll!

"Oh my God!"

It's a selfie of Peter and Rat. She's wrapped around his hand and Peter is smiling widely. You've never seen Peter smile like that, even when you accepted the date. It's a sincere, silly grin. You feel a smile forming on your face.

He looks different. He looks so genuine...

" You two look adorable!" You give Peter his phone back.

"Yeah... She's very friendly. You could meet her one day if you want," he adds shyly.

"I'd love to meet your snake!" Peter's eyes widen in shock "Sorry, that sounded weird, right?" You giggle to hide your embarrassment.

"I don't mind."

Surprisingly enough, the date is going smoothly. You're carrying the conversation, which is unusual for you. You can't help but notice how attentive is Peter. His unblinking eyes don't stray from you. You'd normally be uncomfortable, but something about having his full attention flatters your ego. Having a man so interested in you makes you feel powerful in a way you never felt before.

You've been "The quiet one" your whole life. Adults loved you, kids your age were simply unaware of your existence. At a young age, you knew that love wasn't for you. You wanted it so much, You were constantly crushing on someone. But no one ever liked you back. You were stuck in the background, reading questionable fanfics on your phone while your classmates had their first kiss. You pretended it didn't bother you, but god it did! Deep down you were scared and ashamed.

And then came Peter. Sweet, awkward, unpredictable Peter. So yes, maybe it's a weird choice for a first romantic experience. Maybe he's doing this for a bet. But for once in your mediocre life, you actually feel wanted by someone. For the first time, you feel confident and attractive. 

You barely argue when Peter insists to foot the bill at the end of your date. Your parents wouldn't approve of your lack of manners, but they certainly wouldn't approve of this whole "date" situation.

Since you still have some time before you have to go back to work, you decide to take a walk in the park with Peter. You love going to the park, especially during that time of the year. The leaves are slowly turning orange and gold and the crisp autumn breeze feels like heaven on your skin. You walk down the lonely dirt path and sit on a wooden bench with Peter. You lean on his shoulder, close your eyes and listen to the birds singing.

You open your eyes and meet Peter's gaze. You never had the occasion to examine him before. His skin looks smooth and his features seem so soft, so gentle. His eyes blue eyes seem even more vibrant than usual. So blue... An icy lake you want to drown into. 

"You're so beautiful", he whispers. he raises his hand to caress your cheek. " You're so beautiful, I'm afraid."

"What are you afraid of?" you reply, falling deep into his eyes.

"I'm scared that you aren't real. You're a dream and I don't want to wake up." Peter lovingly rubs his thumb across your cheek.

You lean into the caress. "I'm real, Peter. I'm right here." 

Your phone starts buzzing, violently bursting your bubble.

"Damn it! It's TK! I'm so late!"

You get up and gather your stuff.

"Wait!"

"I have to go! So sorry!" You run off, leaving Peter alone on the bench.

"Fuuuck..." He mumbles, his face in his hands.

Chapter Text

"Good afternoon, Peter."

Dr. Greta smiles and indicates an orange armchair. Peter sits on the cold plastic. "Yeah, hi."

"How are you doing?", She asks.

Peter shrugs. God, how he hates this bitch. Every week, same time, same uncomfortable armchair, same rectangular glasses sitting low on her nose, same fake plant on her desk. Almost two years ago, his mother forced him to go to a psychiatrist. Not because she felt that her precious son might need help, but because she was tired of CPS knocking on her door for a surprise "wellness checks". The way they ended every visit with "And your son mam, Peter, right? Yes, your son, we heard he's been, let's just say, getting into trouble at school, but you probably know that, right, mam? Well, let's just say, mam, that that type of behavior might have, well, deeper roots. Ever thought about taking him to a therapist, mam? You should, you really should. He, let's just say, might really need it.". So, here he is.

"How are things going with... Them?

He sighs. He remembers the first time he ever mentioned you here. He just learned that you were going to the same school as him and it made them so happy he spent the whole hour babbling about you to Dr. Greta. Worst idea ever. He remembers her sick, vicious smirk. She looked so happy to have something to nibble on. Now she asks about you every-fucking-time. 

"Peter, you know that you need to talk to me. Or else, I'll be forced to tell your mother that you aren't cooperating." she fixes her brown eyes on him. He looks back at her. He thinks that her maroon lipstick looks like shit.

"I don't want to talk about them."

"Why? Is it because things have been stagnant between you and her?

"It's "Them"! It's fucking "them". It's not that fucking hard," He snaps, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

"Right, right, "Them", my apologies. But, Peter..."

"What?"

She points at the sign above the door: "IT IS FORBIDDEN TO SMOKE IN THIS AREA".

"Can't you open the window?"

"I'm afraid I can't."

"You should have another sign. "IT IS FORBIDDEN TO PUNCH YOUR DOCTOR", or something like that," Peter growls.

"Why? Why would you want to hurt me, Peter?". Her big eyelashes fluttered innocently.

"Or: "IT IS NOT ADVISED TO THINK ABOUT THE VACUITY OF EXISTENCE"

"Peter, dear..."

"Shut up."

Peter crosses his arms and turns his head to stare at the clock. He said too much. He hates losing her temper with her, he knows she loves scribbling notes about his little outburst in her notebook. "Should we go back to our original topic? "Them"? She rolls the last word on her tongue with a sly smile.

"It's none of your business."

"It is, Peter. It's my job. As a psychiatrist, I dialogue with my patients. Why are you avoiding me? You know you can tell me anything"

"Just leave me alone."

"You're very sensitive today. I'm doing what's best for you and you know it."

Peter fidgets with the sleeve of his fishnet. "I'm just waiting for this appointment to be over."

Peter slams the car door and takes a deep breath. He can't believe he's forced to meet with her every week when You are walking around town. He impatiently starts the van. If his schedule is correct, you must be leaving the diner in less than five minutes, and he'd rather die than let you walk home without his surveillance. "I can't wait to see you again, my love," he smiles, pressing his foot on the gas.

You carefully place the two roses in a little vase and place it on your desk. They'd look very nice on your nightstand, but you can't think about decoration right now. Your brain is boiling with romantic thoughts. You just went on a date with Peter, and almost kissed him! You roll over on your messy bed. Less than a week ago, you were certain he wanted to kill you. How wrong you were! He bought you flowers, paid for your meal, and called you beautiful at least seven times! Maybe eight! You spent the afternoon and the evening in pure glee. You even snuck into the employee changing room during your break, just to caress the petals and breath in the fragrance. You just took a cold shower, but you're still worked up. You carefully close the door and lay on your bed. You sensually slide your underwear down and massage your slit. You smirk, feeling the wetness on your fingertips. "Look what you do to me, Peter..." you whisper to yourself.

Peter carefully opens your window and crawls into your bedroom. He tries his best to be quiet, but his raging boner makes it difficult to control himself. Of course, he already took care of it in the tree, but he's still hard. how could he not when he watched you masturbating?  Oh, he'd do anything to touch you the way you touch yourself.

He carefully kneels on the ground and put his head on your pillow, just inches from your face. You're so adorable when you're asleep. Peter notices a bit of drool on the corner of your mouth. He gently wipes it off. He almost has a heart attack feeling your wetness on his fingertips. He licks your saliva off his finger and a shiver runs down his spine to his cock. He can't wait any longer! He hastily undo his belt and massage his sensitive cock through his boxers. He'd rather pull it out, hell, he'd rather fuck you, but he can't leave any trace. Peter comes closer to your face and slides his long tongue between your lips. You're a heavy sleeper and he's taking advantage of that. Peter's hand slides under the covers and travels down to your breast. He slowly circles your nipple. As he feels it getting erect in his hand, he picks up the pace on his member, exploring your mouth with his tongue, and drinking your saliva. He starts to pinch and rub your nipples between his fingers. You let out a soft, sleepy whimper, which causes Peter to cum in his boxers. He feels the sticky substance flood his underwear. Peter moans into your mouth and gently pulls away. You're still soundly asleep, completely unaware of what happened. He smiles and pull out a tissue paper to wipe the mess he made in his boxers.

"You always make me come so hard, Darling," he whispers in your ears. "My love, my light, my baby..."

Chapter Text

So, you have a boyfriend now? 

You stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. After a good night of sleep, the situation seemed far more complicated. Where do "Just Dating" end and "Official Boyfriend" begin? This is all so complicated! Especially since the last few years were a social no-man's land. Peter's attention feels as overwhelming as a storm after a drought. Yet, it feels nice to have someone really interested in you... You glance at the flower vase on your desk, two beautiful red roses, vivid and fragrant, tied together with a black satin ribbon. You caress the petals.

You made some pretty bad decisions in your life, but learning French was probably the worst... Granted, your teacher is pretty fun, but it's still a horrifying hour. Even more terrifying since approximately 10 minutes ago, when someone decided to sit on the ordinarily empty chair next to you.

"I didn't know you took French too."

"I just started this year," says Peter with a shy smile on his face. He fought tooth and nail to switch from Spanish to French the moment he learned you were in the class. He doesn't understand the shit the teacher is saying, but the goal of this class is to learn more about you, who cares about verbs.

You look down. He hasn't even opened his notebook, instead he's looking at you, with those disarming blue eyes... Tender, yet hungry. "You have nice hair." He reaches and caresses a strain of your hair. 

"Thanks," you mumble, looking away shyly. You're so uncomfortable and shy, but he's not stressed in the slightest! He's all giddy, you can see it in his eyes!
"So pretty..." Peter gently caresses a lock of your hair, feeling each hair between his fingers. And to think he was about to have the perfect first kiss yesterday! But of course, that little bitch TK had to interrupt the most beautiful moment of his life. But soon, he'll have that kiss, and it will be so wonderful. His darling's lips are so soft, and look so yummy... He wants to lick them,  to bite your lips hard to draw blood, to swallow you whole... "So, so pretty..."
"Thanks," you mumble, looking away shyly. You're so uncomfortable and shy, but he's not stressed in the slightest! He's all giddy, you can see it in his eyes!
"So pretty..." Peter gently caresses a lock of your hair, feeling each hair between his fingers. And to think he was about to have the perfect first kiss yesterday! But of course, that little bitch TK had to interrupt the most beautiful moment of his life. But soon, he'll have that kiss, and it will be so wonderful. His darling's lips are so soft, and look so yummy... He wants to lick them,  to bite your lips hard to draw blood, to swallow you whole... "So, so pretty..."

When the class ends, Lucy grabs you and pulls you into the girl's bathroom.
"Lulu, what's going on?"
"Are you okay?" She grabs both your shoulders, looking extremely worried. "Do you need help? Blink twice if you need help."
"What? No, what's up with you?"
"You know what's up. Why was HE all flirty with you? Did he threaten you?"
"No, he never threatened me! And how do you know? I haven't seen you today!"
"You're on every lips! Is he blackmailing you? Whatever he has, it's not worth it."
You take Lucy's hand off your shoulders. "No, none of that! We... We went on a date Saturday."
Her eyes widen. "What? Why?" 
You look down shyly. "He asked..."
"And you accepted? Are you high? That guy is NOT good. And believe me, I fucked some real psychos. He's... bad." She shakes her head in disapproval.
"I know it might sound weird, but I had a great time! He was really sweet, he even bought me flowers!"
"You went on a date with him because he bought you flowers?"
"Not just because of that, but don't you think it's sweet?"
"It's sweet, it's cute, it's romantic, but bitch no gardenias can change the fact that you went on a date with PETER!"
"You don't know him!"
She scoffs and turns away. "Do you? You went on 1 lousy date, don't tell me you fell in love." *She looks back, confused. "You're not in love with him, at least?"
"I'm not! We went on one date, calm down!"
"And will you go on another?"
"Maybe!"
"Y/N, it's not going to end well."
You sigh. "Listen, Lulu. I can see your point. But I want to try... Peter can be scary sometimes, but-"
She cuts you off. "You saw him. You saw him beat up other people."
"it... It doesn't mean he's all bad!"
She scoffed, making big gestures with an outraged expression. "You don't want to hear me, you just wanna frolic around!"
"Said the girl who dated convicts, and a junkie who stole her wallet!" You snap back. "Okay, sorry, that was uncalled for... But girl!"
"Yeah, do whatever you want." She rolls her eyes and pushes past you to get out of the bathroom.
"Oh, so you can date convicts, but I can't?" you mumble under your breath and leave the bathroom. Peter is waiting for you. He flashes a big smile, with those cute shark teeth. You smile back, and you walk together to the next class.

Peter's van stopped at the corner of your block per your request. If your parents learn you went into a boy's car...
"Thank you for dropping me off."
"No worries." 
Silence floats for a few seconds. He looks at you, and you look at him, your face feels hot, and your stomach is full of knots. Your face is very close to his, he could just lean over and... Blood rushes to your face, but you can't break eye contact.

Peter leans over and places his lips on yours. You close your eyes in surprise. His hands slide up to your face and cup your cheek, feeling so soft on your skin... It feels...
Peter accidentally elbows the horn, startling you both.
"Bye!" *Flustered, you grab your bag and run out.

Oh god! Oh god! It happened! It happened! Your first kiss! 

Chapter Text

Peter can't sleep. Of course, ever since he met you, he hasn't been able to sleep, but this time is very different. After your first kiss, Peter had to wait a few hours in his parked van, shivering pulling his own hair, licking his lips until they were red and irritated. His first kiss, his very first kiss, and yours too. This was so much better than the little pecks he managed to steal from you at night. You kissed him! You had placed your beautiful, heavenly lips against his. It doesn't matter if he kissed you first, you fucking kissed him back! He tasted your lip balm and smelled the sweat on your face. And to think he was overjoyed when he hugged you in the principal's office. This is on another level, it's by far the most beautiful moment of his miserable life! (Until, of course, your first time, the day you'll move in together, your wedding, and every single birth of your children).
He paces around his bedroom, kicking dirty clothes and stupid school books. The room is dark, except for the faint light of Rat's terrarium, where the little snake observes Peter walking in circles like a circus animal in a tiny cage.

"I can't go see them... I'll just lose control and kiss them. They cannot know about my "night visits". Dr. Greta is a stupid bitch, but she's right about that. It might destroy our perfect relationship," Peter whispers to Rat. Rat, who had their share of rant for the night, slithered to their little cave for some well-needed shut-eye. "Don't leave! I wasn't done!" Peter sighs. But he takes his pet's advice and slides under his bedsheets. In an attempt to find sleep, he whispers your name like a prayer.

You wake up with what feels like a hangover. After the... Incident, you fell immediately asleep, but the 12-hour coma left you more tired than ever.
Yeah, what now? So, you two are boyfriend and girlfriend, right? Like, officially. One date and one kiss, it must mean something! and he calls you darling, so that must mean something too. If not boyfriend, then at least "Dating partner", or "Fellow human with romantic and/or sexual interest".
Today, you spend a little more time getting ready. We wouldn't want Peter to break up with you already because you look ugly! Ha. Ha. Ha.
Your heart is beating faster than ever. There is something big and unsettling in your stomach, but god knows if it's anxiety or excitement.

As soon as you turn around the block, you see his white van. Peter opens the door. He looks like a happy little puppy.

"Darling!" He runs up to you and embraces you. He gently caressed your cheeks, looking at you like you're the most precious thing in the world. "How are you? Did you sleep well?"

Before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you. Shocked, you kiss him back. He tastes like cigarettes and mints, but it's pretty enjoyable. At least he seems to know what he's doing, and you feel so relieved that he's taking the reins. You can just nod and follow.
"Come on, I'll drive you."

You used to look down on the couple in school, getting all cuddly and making out in the hallway between classes. But now, you understand the joyous and simple nature of PDAs. And by god, Peter doesn't refrain from PDAs. Hand-holding, kisses, playing with your hair... But it feels so natural. He makes you feel like royalty, he'd probably carry you around if you asked.
All eyes are on you. "Peter is dating the new kid" is very juicy gossip. That idiot is following you around like a puppy, always trying to nuzzle his head into you. A stark contrast from the cruel bad boy that terrorized the school a few weeks ago.

You find a secluded corner. Peter sits down on a bench to pull you into his lap, wrapping his long limbs around you. He kisses, your temples, your hair, your cheeks, your ear. He softly moves down to your neck, pressing loving kisses onto your sensitive skin. You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. Slowly, his hand slithers its way under your shirt, just above your jeans.

"Peter..."

"Yes, Darling?" He looks up innocently like he's not trying to go to second base with you on a school bench.

"You shouldn't do that," you muster, trying to scoot away from his sneaky ways, but he holds you tightly against him.

"Don't worry, darling... There is no one here," His lips press feverishly to the back of your neck, making you gasp. "You smell so damn good..." His index plays with the hen of your pants, undeniably trying to get under the denim.

"W-Wait..."

"HEY! None of that in the hall!"

You almost scream in shock. Headmaster Williams is towering over you, his face contorted in loathing. You jump up, rearranging your wrinkly clothes.

"Go to class," he orders, staring daggers at Peter.

"We're not doing anything wrong," Peter gets up sending a death glare back to the principal.

"Firstly, you're late to class. Second, this type of PDA is not allowed in school."

"Bullshit. You just hate to see me happy. Just because you're miserable and your wife left you doesn't mean you-"

"Watch your goddamn mouth." Don spit out between his teeth, his knuckles turning white. "Do you want detention?"

"I-It's fine, Mr. Williams! We're very sorry. We're going right to class!" You grab Peter's arm and drag him away. "What are you doing?" You whisper to him.

"I don't like getting interrupted," Peter frowns but gives up for now, and you two walk to class.

You turn around to look at the Headmaster. He's looking right at you with concern in his eyes. He's saying something, but you can barely hear him.

"Be careful, Kiddo..."

Chapter Text

Peter is all too happy to come to the diner during your shift. Before, he used to just watch you through the windows. But now that he is your BOYFRIEND (It's so beautiful saying that!) He can sit and observe you without it being creepy. Wouldn't want that little... vermin to get too close to you.
Speaking of his darling, he spots you through the window. Even out of breath, with your uniform a bit too big for you, you look like a work of art. He blows the smoke of his cigarette in pure bliss.
You lean on the counter and rip a little paper from the notepad. But the dance of your effortless grace is ruined when TK comes out. THEM. 

Peter hates that little fucker with all his might, with that fucking dumbass beanie, and shitty piercings. If he had it his way, they would be gone for good. They take the little paper, the sight of your fingers grazing sending burning hate down Peter's veins. 
But the unthinkable happens. TK playfully wraps their arm around your shoulders. That BITCH. 
How dare they? Touching you, the most perfect being on earth, the one above the worthless sack of humans, the angel that graciously granted the wish of their most dire worshipper, himself, by letting him kiss your lips?
How dare he. He's so obviously taking advantage of your virtue! Of course, you can't notice when someone is flirting with you! You're an angel, way too kind and an easy target for scumbags! 
This will not stand. Peter pats the butterfly knife in his pocket. If push comes to shove...

As you refill a cup of coffee, Peter waltzs through the door. You run up to him. He really came! How sweet is that?
Peter grabs you by the waist and pulls you in for a kiss. He's kissing you deeply, roughly. Like he's trying to prove something.
"Wow, slow down!" you chuckle, pulling away. Peter just smiles and gently removes a loose strand of hair from your face. "Here, sit down! I'll be right back!" You quickly peck his cheek, a pretty daring act from you since he usually initiates the kisses. Peter caress his cheek dreamily as you run to the kitchen with a handful of dirty dishes.

"Who's that?" TK pops up from behind you, their brow furrowed.

"Oh... Peter?" You're a bit flustered. They did see you two kiss, after all. 

"Is that the name of the goth guy who French kissed you by the front door?"

"Yeah... He's my boyfriend," you giggle like a tween. It's weird saying that... You have a boyfriend now! 

TK raises their eyebrow. "You never mentioned having a boyfriend." 

"Oh, it's very recent..." You smile. TK seems surprised, and maybe a bit suspicious. But you can't dwell on it during rush hour.

From the corner of your eyes, you observe Peter. He seems busy fidgeting with a napkin, skillfully folding it like an origami. TK approaches Peter's booth. They serve him the best customer service smile, notepad in hand. You can't hear them, but TK is probably taking his order
Peter glares at them, his eye twitching in what you can only describe as pure disgust. His lips, twisted in revulsion, managed to mouth a few words, before looking away, unable to look at TK. What's his problem? You never saw Peter act this way with anyone else... Sure, he scowls and makes it obvious he doesn't like human interaction, aside from you. But that... Aversion in his eyes...
When TK turns away, Peter rubs his face, chasing a few drops of sweat from his forehead. When you return to the kitchen, Peter crushed the paper swan between his white knuckles. 

You finally have your 15-minute break. You go up to your boyfriend's table. "My darling..." Peter smiles his previous scowl melting as he sees you. A stark contrast from the glares he gave to TK. You try to sit in front of him, but he grabs you and forces you to sit next to him, basically in his lap.

"Hey! Can't I sit in front of you?"

"How can I tolerate you sitting a few feet away from me when my lap is right there?" You roll your eyes. Since when is he so cheesy?

"You're not eating the cherry? It's the best part!"

Peter smiles and plucks the cherry from its whipped cream mountain. "I was saving it for you, my angel." 

"Oh.. you didn't have to..." You blush. You do love the cherry, but you wouldn't him to deprive himself of it just for you! 

"Nonsense. Say ah.." 

The blush must now have spread to your ears. You obediently open your mouth. Peter places the cherry on your tongue, the sweetness of the cream and the syrupy coating of the cherry invades your taste buds. You can't help but let out a little moan as you bite down the fruit, separating the fruit from the twig. You close your eyes and chew it slowly, savoring it, and swallow it.
When you open your eyes, Peter is as red as the cherry. But a devilish smirk creeps up his face, showing off his sharp teeth. 

"God, you're sexy."

 
Your eyes widen. He called you lots of things. Cute, beautiful, darling. But never sexy. No one ever called you sexy before.

"I-I'm not..."

"Are you kidding? You're... The sexiest thing I ever saw. You're lucky we're in public because I want to do unspeakable things to your body..." He rests his face on your neck, inhaling deep your scent. He places a kiss on your neck. Then another one. Then, a gentle bite.

"Peter..." Your face burns. You grab a napkin to wipe your mouth and hide your red cheeks.

"We should go to the restroom and lock the door."

You throw the napkin on the table, your face hot and itchy. You struggle to find your words, but thankfully, your phone buzzes, announcing the end of your break.

God damn it! Why is the whole world cockblocking him?! He's going crazy! 
Peter barges into the stall. It's dirty, but it'll do. What he did in the back of his van wasn't enough to keep him satiated. He undoes the numerous belts and pulls down his pants to his thighs. His erection is painfully pressing against his underwear. 
He grabs the butterfly knife from his pocket. The wounds he gave himself earlier barely closed, but he needs some fresh ones.

 
He stupidly thought that touching you would ease those feelings. They slowed down for some time, only to come back stronger than ever.
Peter never really thought about sex before meeting you. He knew what it was, and he often woke up with a raised member which needed to be taken care of in the shower, but it always felt mechanical like he was performing a bodily function instead of pleasuring himself.
But the moment he meant you, lust took over his body. His morning hard-on would stay up all day, haunted by his memories of you, the faintest sign sending hot blood down his shaft. Even if he jacks off until his whole body hurts, the lust never leaves his body.

It did scare him at first. He wanted to claw off his skin and bite off his dick. He wanted to skin you alive, searching your bloody inside for the source of all his ills. Maybe if he smelled you until you faltered like an exhausted flower, if he learned you by heart until he forgot his own name, this lust would finally leave him...
But he can't. He considered it. Finally getting it over with, killing the source. But the more he observed you, the deeper he fell. Killing you might be poetic. But you opened his eyes to a world of blinding color and scorching sun, and as painful it is, he can't go back to the cold, unforgiving hell that is life without you. He'll support agonizing lust for you. It just needs to leave his body, one way or another.

Peter takes the blade and pushes it against his thigh, slicing the skin. He bites his lip but pushes the blade deeper, more blood flowing out. He started bloodletting to deal with his feelings for you, to try and get the poisoned blood out of his weak body. It doesn't work as well today. He can't stop thinking about the taste of your skin, and your pink tongue.

He has no choice but to free his cock. he wraps his hand around it, wishing it was your dainty fingers instead. But he has a weapon to make it faster. He takes the napkin and deeply inhales it. That little scrap of you sends a shiver down his spine. Your saliva, the microscopic dead cells you wiped off your heavenly lips... If only he could drown in it...
He pants in pleasure. Of all his fantasies, one always conquers it... The fact that when he finally gets to possess you, once your plump lips and warm entrance will finally sink on his cock... He knows every time will be better than the last. He will never dislodge that poisoned needle of lust. He's in too deep. But how lovely it is to sink into debauchery...

He bites down on the napkin to keep it in place as he swipes low-quality toilet paper. He pumps his cock faster. He mumbles your name, your napkin muffling his desperate whimpers. Knowing that you're walking just behind those walls... He wants to tear off this uniform and take you right here, against a table. The simple thought pushes him over the edge, spurts of cum shooting onto the toilet paper.

He pants hard, his back on the wall. He does feel a bit dirty now... But his actions ever since he met you are far from hygienic (or even legal).

He looks down at his thighs. Drops of blood rolled down his legs, and one of the wounds reopened. He sighs and grabs another piece of toilet paper to messily clean the blood before putting his pants back on. This will do for now. He'll probably need to visit you tonight, though.

He quickly rinses off the dirty blade, fidgeting with the butterfly knife as he leaves the bathroom. Hopefully, you can get another break soon!

Chapter Text

Are relationships supposed to be painful? You wouldn't know, you're on cloud nine. 
Peter is simply the best boyfriend ever. He's clingy, but it's endearing.

"Do you really have to go now? I'll miss you. So, so much," he whispers in your hair, nuzzling into it like a kitten. "Can't I go with you?"

"No, it's the restroom! I won't be long."

Your boyfriend whines. He can be such a toddler. You forcefully remove yourself from his arms and slip away into the restroom.

As you wash your hands, a familiar silhouette appears in the mirror, wearing a nervous smile. "Heyyy... been a while." Lucy greets you with polite enthusiasm.

"Oh! Lulu," The last time you two talked, it didn't end well. You have to admit, you missed her a bit. She has her flaws, but she's sweet, and your first friend ever in this school. Maybe you should extend a hand... "How is it going?" You smile at her back.

"Oh, you know..." She shrugs. "And you? How life with..." 

"It's going great." 

"He got into way fewer fights since he became your man." She places a hand on your shoulder. Her gaze is soft, a peace offering. You can't help but melt a bit. There she is, your little Lulu, your friend, the one who took you under her wings the moment she saw you. 

"... Is that a new tattoo?" 

"Yeees!" She smiles brightly and pulls down her sleeve so you can better see the dreamcatcher. You both gush over the still-reddish tattoo. No, you can't stay mad at her.

Peters has a couple of tricks up his sleeve to not break down when you're out of reach. A cigarette (He looks down on vaping with ungodly disdain), scaring his thighs with your initials, hitting something or someone, taking care of Rat... None of them are available here, while he waits for you.
He pulls out a little notebook from his bag. When he first was assaulted with love, he was completely lost. This notebook was then only for nonsensical ranting, promises of eternal love, drenched in tears and blood and other fluids. But after he poured his heart out, he found himself in need of guidance.
And what better way to learn about depraved, passionate, unsanitary love than to read old literature? He found himself not alone in those feelings. Someone else before him, visibly some Russian guy, wrote about the gut-wrenching love Peter experiences every day. 

And every time Peter finds a sentence that really resonates, he writes it down in this little notebook, between lines and lines of your names, and little hearts. It makes him feel less alone. And less crazy. He flips through the pages, letting your ghost invade his head while he waits next to the bathroom.

"So... How is he?" 

"He's actually really sweet. He picks me up every day so I don't need to take the bus."

"Y/N, I wasn't talking about that. How is he?

"WHAT?!"

"Oh come on! Half the school has the same question. Did you know he never banged anyone here? But now we have you! So, how is it?" She gives you a cheeky smirk.

"Well, it's none of your business." You cross your arms. Lucy doesn't have a filter when it comes to sex, unlike you.

"Oh no, you haven't done it yet!" Lucy's eyes widen in shock. "How?! Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

"I..." Of course, you noticed. He tends to let his hands wander. "I suppose we haven't found the opportunity yet." 

Lucy let out a low chuckle. "Won't take long. Just a second in the back of his van, and you can kiss your virginity goodbye!" She blows a kiss, hooks your elbow, and escorts you out.

"God damn it, you're unbearable..."

"Darli-" Peter's smile fades the second he sees Lucy.

"Sup'." She gives him an amiable nod. "Anyways, I need to go. Call me, okay?" Lucy pecks your cheek before running off. Peter feels a sudden urge to throw up.

"You two are friends again, huh?" It's hard to hide his contempt. Here he was, thinking that she was out of the picture forever. But people like her always come back, like a rat infestation or cancer.
His arms wrap around you. He swears he can see her lips on your cheek. How dare she? He's the only one allowed to kiss you. With a swift motion, he wipes your cheek with his thumb. 

Smiling at the sweet gesture, you hug him, your hands holding his narrow shoulder blades. "She's a nice girl." 

Peter looks away, his eyes lost deep in thought. 
*No she isn't.* "Huh... Come on, I'm driving you home."

You throw your bag in the back of his van and climb into the passenger seat. He has one hand on your thigh, and the other on the steering wheel, and it kind of turns you on... Lucy's words are still so fresh.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Peter caresses your thigh with his thumb, a worried look on his face. 

"Nothing much." You feel Peter taking your hand and bringing it to his face, his lips brushing over the knuckles.

"My pretty lover." He kisses your hand and the tip of your fingers.

"C'mon, stop..." 

"Why?"  You're the most beautiful thing that ever graced this fucking planet. You're so stunning it makes my stomach churn." 

You chuckle nervously, climbing into the back to retrieve your bag and hide your flushed cheeks. 
"Hey, don't leave me!" Peter parks the car in semi-panic and climbs in the back with you. He grabs you from behind.

"You're beautiful, and I would kill for you." His voice drips with sincerity. You feel blood rushing to your cheeks.

He hugs you tight, his chin resting on top of your head. "Mmh... can I stay like that for a while?" You sigh snugly. For how thin he is, his cuddles are so comfortable.

"Darling, they'll have to break my arms to tear you away from me."

You lean your head back on his shoulder. Peter closes his eyes, nuzzling his face into your hair. Your body fits perfectly against him. The sound of passing cars is a distant whisper, as he soundproofed the van just in case, making you feel like you two are the only one in the entire world. His hands rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing up and down your inner thigh.

It doesn't take long for his stupid hormones to ruin this romantic cuddle. I mean, your tits are right there. And you have the most beautiful tits. Peter saw them numerous times, of course. When you're alone in your room, you have this adorable cheeky habit of lifting your shirt and flashing your reflection. So sexy, yet innocent, and so naive to think your mirror is the only witness. The memories of your late-night antics are clouding his judgment. For sure, you wouldn't mind if he... Tried to cup a feel? Oh, to hell with that. He's your boyfriend, that's what boyfriends do!

Squish.

Your eyes open quickly. Did he just grab your tit? 
Blood rushes to your cheeks. You're used to fondling your own boobs, this shouldn't feel so foreign... Bus his touch, big enough to cover more than the entire breast, is an entirely new world. Passionate, clumsy. It stirs something inside you, deep in your guts. You let out a shaky chuckle, the heat in your core migrating to your brain, turning your neurons to mush and your breath to steam. Horny already? It usually takes you longer than that. You can feel your inside coating itself in wetness.

You gasp as Peter caresses your vulva through the fabric of your jeans. The tip of his middle finger rubs along the sewing, his other hand tugging on your nipple through your shirt. The abrasion of the tissue against your sensible parts forces a little whimper out of you. You can't help but wiggle your hips against his hand. 

"Eager, my darling?" Peter whispers in your ear. His breath is heavy with desire.

"Can... You take it off?" You look away, embarrassed. You can't believe you're asking such things.

With a smirk, Peter undoes the zipper and slides your jeans down to your ankles.
"You look so fucking delicious," Peter groans, cupping your pussy through your panty, savoring the heat on his palm. He rubs his hand on your vulva, grinding the fabric against your lips and clit. "You're so fucking hot, I can't wait anymore, please let me pull your underwear down. I promise I'll be good, I need to see you, please..." He whimpers against your ear, his hot breath in your ear canal.

"Just... Just the hands..." You're not about to lose your virginity in a van. You're horny, not stupid. And you want to see how Mister uses his fingers... They're long and thick, probably the size of some men's cock... "I should tell you... I haven't shaved in a whi-"

"Don't care." Peter hooks his thumb in the elastic and pulls your underwear down to your ankles.

He cups your hips and folds them upwards to better admire your intimacy. You shut your eyes, embarrassed to be stared at this way. Hidden behind a thick bush, your labia protrudes from your body, red from the rubbing, glistening with excitement. 
He lets out a strangled moan at the sight of your intimacy. It's fine. He has the heart rate of a squirrel held at gunpoint, but it's fine, he can control himself.

He's already so close to orgasm it's embarrassing. Maybe he can't see your face from this angle, but he observes your reflection in the darkened window of his van. Your cheeks are flushed, your face is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and a couple of hair strands are stuck to your forehead. You closed your eyes, focused on the pleasure. So focused, you don't notice Peter's erection rubbing against your back, begging for any friction, or his tongue lolling out of his mouth, licking your neck at the base of your hair.
You look heavenly, so fuckable, but he needs to control himself. He can't ruin your glorious first time by being too hasty. You deserve a soft white bed, not his measly van. Plus, it's already such a privilege to touch you...

But god damn it, it's hard to restrain himself from pushing you down and forcing his cock inside you. It would feel so good... You're so warm... And he knows you're not on birth control. He could slide it right in and knock you up right there. Out of frustration, he bites down on your neck. "AAh~!" 

Your voice is the final straw. Peter feels his orgasm shooting out of him, he grabs your jaw and forces your face towards him. He lunges at you, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, licking every tooth, drinking up your spit, as spurts of cum stain his boxer. Doesn't matter that your neck must hurt from the uncomfortable position, he needs more. He throat-fuck you with his tongue, your gag reflex making you tear up.

You push him away, gasping for air. He pushes you down on your back and crawls over you. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, darling. And you didn't even cum yet... Don't worry, I'll make you feel so good, my angel." He pecker gentle kisses on your eyelids, his fingers finding their way back inside you,

liquifying on impact. Your core is invaded in the sweetest way, somehow finding all the right spots to rub, flicker, and caress. How come he knows all of your weaknesses? In minutes, your clit becomes more sensitive, announcing your orgasm. "Don't stop..."
Peter bast himself in his afterglow, nuzzling his face in your legs, licking up the sweat pearling behind your knees. He mumbles deranged love letters in your pores, delecting himself in your moans and gasps.
Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, drawing a sudden scream from your throat. Your hips jolt, your clit pulses against Peter's thumb, and your entire body rocks and sweats in bliss. He's smiling like a madman.
You pant, struggling to recover from your orgasm. It doesn't help that Peter refuses to take his fingers out of your cunt, or his palm away from your tits. He alternates between the pairs, squishing them, giving them little pats to make it jiggle... And he won't shut up.

"You're perfect, my darling. It's such an honor, I can't believe you let me touch you. You're so warm... I wish I was tiny so I could crawl inside you..." 

Thankfully, a strange post-orgasm tinnitus allows you to stay blissfully unaware. He picks you up with only one arm.

"Oh, you look so sleepy. I love watching you sleep, but this can't be comfortable. I'm taking you home." 

He sits in the driver's seat, squeezing you between his torso and the wheel. 
His fingers are like a drug. You feel light, and your eyelids are heavy. You close your eyes, not quite falling asleep, just resting. You feel the motor rumbling.
But you don't feel your pants still around your ankle, or Peter's fingers, that has not once left your insides.

Chapter Text

"So, I suppose that what I'm saying is: Even if they say no, they're still young. Usually, when faced with the situation, many people change their minds. But you must do your part, and make sure they make the right decision." 

Peter nods approvingly. Even though he hates her guts, he can't deny Dr. Greta has some good advice regarding planning his future with you.

"Got it."

"Never too young for the joys of motherhood." Greta chuckles. "But I hope you have some plan to provide for the baby."

Her chuckle ices his blood. If a doctor is supposed to make you feel safe, Greta activates his fight or flight. The floral perfume, the ticking of the clock, the grating of her pen against the paper, the plastic chair... He needs to get out. Little tips are nice, but you're currently at work, vulnerable to all the vultures around you. 

"No Peter, there are still 20 minutes left. And you know you need the full hour, or I'll have to call yo-"

"Well, I don't have 20 fucking minutes. They're at work right now! And I know this little bitch is getting too close."

"Ah yes, JD, is that right?" Her thin maroon lips contort into a smile. "Love rivalry, a tale as old as time."

"TK. And it's not rivalry! I'm not scared of them. They love me."

"I'm not saying you're scared, dear. But you do mention them a lot... Are you worried something might be going on between your girlfriend and them? I mean, they're working together. It's only natural. She-"

"Them."

"Yeah, them, whatever, might fall for that TK... But, oh, it's unlikely. I trust you will not let it happen." 

Peter grits his teeth. No, he won't let that happen.

"This sucks," you whine, chewing on the pen. "Will I ever need that past school?" 

TK laughs at your desperation. "Probably not, but you need to pass, right?"

It's Saturday night, but the diner is completely dead. The manager refuses to let you go home. You cleaned everything, scrubbed every floor, wall, and ceiling, and the only thing left to do is pour a coffee and catch up on your homework, with TK as your tutor to fill up the last half hour.
They're a great teacher, but your mind is somewhere else. You look out the window, into the clear night. Officially 24 hours ago, you were with Peter in the back of his van, and each passing second turns your memories clearer. His torso against your back, the smell of the tiny pine tree hanging from the rearview mirror, his saliva sliding down your throat and into your airways... You circle the rim of your cup with your finger.

"-Divided by..." They snap your fingers in front of your face. "Y/N?" 

"Huh? Yeah, I'm listening..." Desire crawls down your spine. You hogged the shower for an hour straight this morning, but it's still not enough. If anything, you feel even hornier than before. Your fingers were no match against his... And god, they were so thick. His dick must be even bigger. If foot size is correlated, you know his shoes are always huge... The mystery is killing you. You never wanted something inside you so badly.

"You're not listening." 

"What? No, I am!" 

"No, you aren't. I've been talking about Lord of the Rings for the last 5 minutes, you didn't even blink."

Well, shit. "I'm sorry TK, I'm just so tired..." 

"You can nap, I'll wake you up when your shift ends." 

"I don't want the manager catching me. He'll try to kill me by making me mop up puke off the bathroom floor."

"Yeah, he did that to me too..." TK laughs.

The little bell rings. Peter barges in.
Two hours. He's gone for two hours, and this BASTARD is already way too close to you.
He never hated his therapy sessions more. Leaving your side should be illegal. Every time he takes his eyes off you, someone tries to slither their way into your heart. And God knows what they can do in TWO HOURS. Of course, you wouldn't notice; You're so cute and innocent, you can't see that everyone wants you. 

"Peter!" You smile upon seeing your stupid sexy emo boy barge in. He gives back a cute toothy smirk, caressing your cheeks.

"How was work?" He asks with false innocence. "Almost done?" 

"In ten minutes. It was so dead..." 

You bet your ass Peter is going to sit and watch over you for the last 10 minutes of your shift. TK is observing him too, suspicious.

Hand in hand, you walk out of the diner. Peter is always parked on a darker lonely street. But you have nothing to fear with your big guard dog. Big... He opens the door for you. The question is burning your tongue.

"... How big are you?" 

His eyes widen, not expecting such bold questions."Big?" 

"You know..." You vaguely gesture to his pelvis, your eyes darting away. "It's been on my mind since yesterday. You saw all of me, I should at least know that." You straighten your back, your voice clear and firm, like you're arguing a court case. "So, tell me."

"I could show you." 

Now it's your turn to be shocked. He smiles and kisses your forehead, the surprise on his face turning into a wicked smirk.

"...You'd do that?" 

"This street is always empty." 

He undoes the zipper, and easily pulls his dick out from his boxer. You gasp like a prude. You never expected it to be so... big. And it's not even fully hard.
He smirks at your innocence. Peter would have loved you no matter what, but you being a virgin is just the cherry on top. He can say with pride that he's the very first man who kissed you, touched you, made you cum. And now, the first penis you ever saw belonged to him. "Come on, you can touch it." 
You approach one finger like you're about to pet a lizard at the zoo. You touch just below the tip. It's warm. You can only see his member, but from the looks of it, his balls are above average too. The tip is a tan-pink color, you can almost see a vein running down the side. You feel like you're doing something forbidden, almost illegal. You swallow your saliva. "It's.. Hard?" 

"When you're with me? always." He grins. You blush harder, retracting your hand. "Not fully though. It needs some more work to get comple-"

"Got it. Put it back, I'm going to hyperventilate." You giggle nervously. He laughs too, finally putting it back in his pants. "Don't get me wrong, it's not... Bad. Not at all. Very far from it. But it's a lot to take in." 

"Oh, I'm sure it will be a lot to take i-"

"Peter!"

Well, time to hog the bathroom again. The running water skillfully hides your shameful activities. You lay down in the tub, letting the lukewarm water fall on your legs. You mindlessly reach for the soap when your hand wraps around something. Something hard, plastic, the same circumference as Peter's... You turn around to see the shampoo bottle in your hand. A nice, fancy shampoo you bought to help with your unruly hair, to no avail. At least the packaging is nice, heavy. Smooth... Like Peter... 
I mean, it's not the same. Definitely not, It's shorter, the bottom is flat and not a beautiful puffy head... But it's a similar diameter. It fits in your hand the same way... 
Well, isn't the girth the hardest part? You read somewhere that thick was just as important as long. 
You want it to fit. You really, really want him to fit inside you. You slide down to your tempting folds. As expected, wet. You rub the slippery fluid around your entrance, sending little bolts down your thigh... time for training.

The man who designed this apartment complex must be a perv just like Peter. The bathroom window is perfectly placed to give him a full view. (Until the steam clogs his view, which makes him whimper in frustration.) He can easily climb a tree and hide in the foliage to admire you taking a bath.
He can't do it every night, he much prefers the bedroom window to watch you sleep. But it's hard to resist the siren call of your body covered in soapy bubbles.
Tonight was supposed to be like every time. You undressed, got into the tub, and turned on the showerhead, only to lay back down. In the mood for a bath, maybe? 
It took him a while to understand why you were observing this shampoo bottle so carefully. 
"Oh, my darling... Are you really going to do this? Do you want me inside you so badly? I do too, so much. But this is ambitious..." His lips curl into a dark grin. You had many DIY toys, but you never took anything bigger than the slim handle of your hairbrush. 
His eyes followed your hand travelling down to caress yourself. 
He would do anything to be in the bathtub with you. He'd make sure the bottle would fit. His tongue would gently lick up and down your vulva, then, with so much care and love, enter you, exploring your insides and coating them in saliva, making sure you're perfectly stretched out and lubricated.

You hold the bottle at your entrance and push it in. And fail. The diameter is too large, the sides of the bottle are stuck against your skin. God damn it. You angle your pelvis as straight as a line and push in again. The very tip enters, stretching you to a foreign size, burning your inside. You pass a finger over your clit, and try to insert the bottle more. It slides inside you, not without difficulties. The burn slowly fades, only leaving *fullness* difficult to describe. Is that how it would feel, to have Peter inside you? Only warmer, wetter, and with his tongue down your neck... You bite your lips and press your palm over your swollen clit. You grab the bottle's nozzle with the other hand and pull it out just halfway. The burning is stronger on the way out, but you won't give up. You push it back in, the plastic dragging across your walls. You grab the hand-held shower and toggle it on "Turbo" mode. You flow a mild steady stream on your clit, sighing in bliss, your stomach tightening in pleasure. You expertly make the stream stronger and stronger, your button becomes more sensitive, your vagina adjusting to the size of the object inside you. You quickly feel the orgasm coming. You lie back, one foot on the wall, and savor the orgasm shaking you, from spine to toe. You pull the bottle out. You'll definitely be sore tomorrow.

You fall on your bed, still humid from your shower. TK sent you a few texts, including your planning for next week.

"Yay, we're together for the Saturday rush!" You punctuate your message with a silly, ironic emoji."we might die, but at least we'll make tips." flying dollar emoji."So true."
"you alr?" 
"Yeah? Why?" Curious emoji.
"nothing, you just seemed distracted today. everything ok with your bf?"
"Going great, don't worry abt it. Just need to sleep more lol." 
"in that case, i won't keep you up. Gn!" 
"Gn!!" Sleepy emoji

 
The window seems harder to break tonight. It's probably just his frustration talking. He never thought he'd envy a shampoo bottle. His fingers are shaking with lust when he enters your bedroom. You are laying in bed, on your back, so peaceful, so... Open. 
He takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and lovingly presses it over your nose. "I'm just playing it safe, baby. Breathe in, you'll sleep so well." He kisses your temple, his nose catching a whiff of the sweet scent of chloroform on the handkerchief.
Once he's sure you're deeply asleep, he pulls down the covers. He wiggles your bottoms off, throwing it on the ground for now. You are naked in front of him. His fingers caress your labia. He displays treasures of self-control to not rape-fuck you right then and there. He needs you conscious and enthusiastic for your first time. "Which will come soon... You're getting bold, my little vixen... I love it. I love you." He peppers a ton of kisses on your legs. 

You are deliciously sore from your bathroom shenanigans. Your entrance is red and abused. He slips one finger in with ease. You're still a little bit wet. He is so hard. 
He leans his cheek on your knee with a dreamy smile, palming himself over his pants. "I don't think you'll mind, darling. After all, you seemed so interested a few hours ago." He frees his painfully hard cock from his pants. 
He pumps another finger inside you. And a third one. You're so stretched out, why not enjoy it? The warmth around his fingers shoots directly to his cock. He strokes himself, getting closer between your legs. He lowers his face to yours, prying your sleepy lips apart to explore your mouth with his tongue. His hips buck in a familiar sensation. So soon?
In a groan, he spills himself against the softest part of your thigh. His mind is hazy. He never came on you before, it was always his boxer or his hand. The contrast of his milky cum against your skin is to die for. He wipes the cum off you with the handkerchief. That's going straight to his collection.

He sits next to you and grabs your phone. He knows you wouldn't like him going through your phone, but what you don't know can't hurt you. He immediately checks TK's chat. His blood starts to boil. "Everything ok with your bf?", he reads in a sarcastic, nasally tone. It's going great. It's heaven. You wouldn't get it. Mind your own business. 
Peter wants to block them. He settles on deleting the messages about him. That's what he always does. Every compliment they give you and every nice interaction is deleted the night after. Wouldn't want you accidentally re-reading a nice text and thinking oh, that TK is so nice, they would treat me so well if we were together...
"The devil hides in details, baby. Can't be too careful. To be honest... I am not careful enough about them."

Chapter Text

You wake up with an uncomfortable feeling in your vulva and a sharp pain in your stomach. You waddle out of bed to the bathroom and grab a tampon from under the sink. Mother Nature will not ruin your mood today. You have a date with Peter this afternoon. You briefly mentioned a little shop serving the best bubble tea, your guilty pleasure, and he seemed eager to try it.

Peter is early, as always. Well, for you, he's always early. He needs to scan the environment, check if it's safe for his darling. And there is nothing lovelier than watching the little dot on his phone move closer to him. You're always so messy, which used to worry him. But now, he understood it's a blessing. A tidy individual would have seen the AirTag by now. He looks up, you're a few feet away, but facing the wrong direction. Looking around. Looking for him. He watched you type on your phone. His phone buzzes. "where are you?" So eager to see him you forget to capitalize the first letter. He slides a hand around your waist. You jump, startled. "Peter!" 

"Did I startle you, darling?" He gives you a sharp grin. "Let's go inside."

Peter stabs the little kitten on the cup’s lid with the straw. You love bubble tea but are always nervous about stabbing the lid. You don’t want to make a mess. So cute. « Thanks! »
You sip up the sweet tea, colorful little marbles of fruit syrup swimming at the bottom. He picked a coffee-based milk tea, blaming a very short night. You offer him some of yours. Placing his lips on the straw his darling used? Absolutely.
He sips the juice and pops the bubble between his molars. The taste shocks him. Instead of the sweet, floral flavor, it’s sour... He grimaces.

"It’s not litchi?" You always pick litchi. Well, his attention was... elsewhere while you ordered. But you always order litchi.

"Litchi and lemon."

What the fuck. You always pick black peach tea with litchi pearls. Why lemon? You never choose lemon. He knows that because he followed you every time you went to this shop.
 
He thought learning about her would reassure him. When you know everything about someone or something, they stop being scary or volatile. But the more he knows, somehow, the more foreign you seem. Why lemon? You always pick lichee. How could you become a whole new person in such a short time? Was it his fault? Was he not loving enough? Gentle enough? Manly enough? Is it a passive-aggressive way for you to tell him you expected him to take the lead and order for you? Did he sign your relationship's end by looking at your ass?

His mind spiraled. What happened that he didn't see? Were there signs? You didn't capitalize the first letter of your last text. It’s always capitalized. It wasn't a cute mishap. It was a warning. "Oh, Peter... I don't really care about him anymore. He's not important to me. I won't bother to pay attention when I text. I'm dumping him today anyway. I'm in love with TK now." How could you do this to him? It’s like falling down his very own stairs. I thought I knew you by heart, how could your steps change so drastically? What changed? Who changed you? Is it TK? Of course it's fucking TK. God is dead.

He quickly masked his stupor. He can't show you the panic inside him. He needs to stay calm. Dignified. Ready to grab you if you try to run away. He reaches for your hand. You allow him to hold it. And you smile. "How are you?" His tone sounds like a caring, attentive boyfriend. Exactly what he tries to be.

"I'm fine. Just..." It's way too early to discuss periods, right? You're pretty sure it would kill the mood. "Just a bit unwell. But it's nothing." 

He perks up. Unwell? Was the data he stole from your phone right? "You're on your period?" 

"Wha- How did you know?" 

He's so relieved. Was it all hormonal? Of course. Your cramps lowered your attention to details, which is why you didn't capitalize that damn text. And the lemon pearl is just a little trick of your taste buds. A sudden craving. It's fine. You're fine. You're his perfect little darling. All is well... He hopes. The panic dies down to a small needle in his heart. Still here, but he can ignore it for now.

"I have a sister. I know what "a little unwell" means."

"I didn't know you had a sister!" 

He shrugs, seemingly lukewarm at the idea of talking about his sister. Your curiosity is too strong to let the occasion go.

"You don't talk about your family a lot," you ask carefully. "How old is she?

"15. She's a freshman. My mom is a bitch. My sister too. My stepdad is irrelevant." He puts his cup down. "Here, that's all you need to know."

A freshman? Does she go to your school too? You're a bit startled by his dismissive attitude. But you understand. Not everyone is lucky enough to get along with their family. You nod understandably. You respect his boundary and shelf all the questions in your head. You move on to lighter topics. He's surprisingly knowledgeable about your interest. He sheepishly explains he researches whatever you talk about so he can chat with you longer. You melt inside. You can't believe you have such an attentive lover... With such a huge penis. You quickly drink the tea to chase the image from your head.

He paces in front of the bathroom. Your date is over, but you had to go to the bathroom before leaving. He's basically vibrating with excitement. He never misses an occasion to add something to his altar (The cup and straw you used are currently in his bag instead of the bottom of the trashcan. It's a date souvenir AND your trash. It has a place reserved at home, between your used tissue and the chopsticks wrapped from your first date. He'd be insane to pass off a prime collectible.) You exit the little bathroom. He slides inside, pretexting nature's sudden call.

Peter enters the stall you used, and like the little freak he is, opens the little trashcan. And he finds what he was looking for. Wrapped in white paper already stained with red, your fresh tampon lies on a pile of rubbish, begging to be picked up. A lovely addition to his altar. Peter carefully unwraps his finding, grabs it by the string, and places it in a Ziploc bag. He pinches the tampon through the plastic. The pleasing warmth sends a shiver down Peter's spine. He quickly put the bag away in his pocket, flushed and washed his hands to keep up the facade. He can't WAIT to complete his collection. He already has your used pads, but this feels much more... Intimate. "Come on, I'll drive you home, darling."

TK lives in such a shitty neighborhood, Peter might be the sanest person roaming the streets. He leans on a lampost and watches a rat steal rotting pizza from a garbage can. Under his arm, a bootleg Pokémon metal box, containing a bag, containing a box, containing bubble wrap, containing a lovely vial with the etiquette scratched off. The sender is a trusted bastard of social media, who always honored his deals and sent Peter whatever he wanted, as long as he paid good money for it.
From this angle, he has a good view of TK’s apartment. Through the window, he sees TK’s silhouette and a TV turned on to a random channel, announcing a rediffusion of Love Actually. TK gets up and vanishes out of Peter’s line of sight. One hand in his pocket, he squeezes the tampon in the plastic bag to calm himself down. It's not warm anymore, but just touching something that has been inside you makes him happier.

TK… Do you know you’re a fraud? You and billions of others. So many maggots believe in love. Tsh. Of course, love exists. But not for them. Love is a secluded club. Not everyone can experience it. It’s reserved for a few chosen people (Like him and Y/N). Billions of idiots try to fight their fate and become one of the chosen people. And that’s a problem. Because scum like you, who would be wonderful accountants or pole vaulters, dedicate their lives to being lovers as if it was ever their role to begin with. Peter blames all the romantic media shoved down humanity’s throat for such abhorrent mistakes.

99% of the world will die unloved. And it’s a good thing. Because if everyone were truly in love, the world would burst into flame. Love is a war. Being chosen for love is like being the hero of an old epic, chosen to fight the Gods. It’s not fun. It’s fun from an outsider’s perspective. W000W tHAT GuY ToTallY OUtsMaRtEd PoSeIdOn i WiSH I c0uLd Be liKe HiM go fuck yourself.
It’s a battlefield. It’s the greatest joys and the most profound wounds. They’ll never get it. For them, love will mean a mediocre marriage and a couple of crotch goblins that should never have seen the light of day.

TK, you’re mediocre, your « love » life won’t be better. And usually, I wouldn’t care. You’re just one maggot among others on the rotting carcass of mediocrity. But you couldn’t just pick another worm to leech on. Nooo… You had to pick my darling. How could you ever think you were good enough for them?
But my darling is good, they’re too kind for their own good, and she entertains your friendship. You leeched off them, injected your poison in their precious veins, and now they drink LEMON bubble tea, what the fuck is wrong with you?

Dr. Greta's words spin in his head. "They might fall for TK. I trust you will not let it happen."

No, he won't let it happen. He's been patient. He tried to give them opportunities to distance themselves. But vermin never leave of their own accord. TK will be dealt with. And after that, his relationship with Y/N will be stronger than ever before. He clutches the box in his arms. It's time to act. The venomous needle of panic in his heart shoots determination in his veins.

Peter’s phone vibrates, shocking him out of his daydream. He set his alarm for your texts differently from the rest, so he would never get his hopes up receiving a notification. (Expecting a lovely little text from his darling only for it to be from his mom, ugh). Not « La vie en rose » blaring at full volume, but three short bursts of vibration.

"Are you driving me to school tomorrow?"

See? A capital letter. Is it not a sign he’s on the right path?