I’ve sat on my leg too long and now I’ve got pins and needles and oh gods I hate pins and needles, I’m sitting here wiggling my leg like a maniac trying to get the blood flowing properly again.
But it’s made me think….though I should probably point out anatomy and just in general how the body works is not my strong suit.
Preternatural or supernatural beings, do they get pins and needles? I mean they all have working nerve endings and blood…technically.
Vampires, for instance, are so often described as flushed and warm after drinking blood, but if their cells are absorbing it then wouldn’t they technically get pins and needles? Because they were originally hindering the flow of blood by not having any, and they’ve still got working nerves so the rush of blood should cause pins and needles, right?
Can you imagine a vampire drinking after a long abstinence, their sigh of relief when they feel the hot blood warm their body….then it begins. First in their fingertips, toes, and the tips of their nose and ears, and gradually it creeps through their entire body as their dormant cells come to life to absorb the blood. Nerve endings sparking randomly.
Imagine this dark creature of the night, sharp fangs bared, hissing out with copper tinged breath, “Fuck! Fucking pins and needles! I hate them so much!”
Imagine them flailing about, frantically rubbing at arms and legs to get the blood flowing properly. Once it finally stops, and they’re left panting, with that heavy warm feeling spreading through, they realise a human is standing there, staring at them wide eyed, mouth dropped open in an aborted attempt at a scream.
“Not a fucking word,” the vampire would grumble before running off into the night, their murderous image completely ruined by fuckingpins and needles.
A/N: This is my first story in like 8392 years and I’m so put of practice so please bare with me because it’s not great. Also shoutout to Emily. You’re the real mvp. Feedback would be great.
Word count: 4,185
We were sitting in the jeep on the highway from Toronto back to Pickering and though we weren’t even half way yet, the drive seemed longer than usual. Painfully longer.
Though it was a rather warm summer day, I felt the chills run down my bare arms the soon as we got into the car. The pesky silence between us was smothering, suffocating really and made my entire body linger in the most uncomfortable way possible.
Why does he act like he knows absolutely everything? Why is always wearing that stupid blue sweater? Didn’t he know that it was a like eighty degrees outside? And why is he staring a hole through you right now, with his lips turned up like that, god that annoyed you so much. Oh god, and why are you blushing, uneasy mess right now? Snap the fuck out of it!
You quickly snapped your intense yet annoyed gaze at Peter and focused back on your homework. You still felt the burning feeling of his eyes on you as you continued to finish your Algebra homework. Why wasn’t he doing his homework? Great question, he should be finishing his homework. This was yet another one of the millions of qualities you didn’t care for about Peter Parker. It wasn’t that you hated him per se it was just, he acts like- well he thinks- okay fine. You really, really didn’t like him.
It was just almost everything about him ticked you off in such a way it made your eyes roll into the back of your head every time something cocky rolled off his tongue, or when he proved how much he could actually lift in the gym room, and when he acted as if he was the biggest superhero to roam the streets since Tony Stark.
I mean, neither were you. Sure, you couldn’t catch a bus with your bare hands. Or hang upside down from walls like a complete idiot, but you still had powers too. Yours weren’t trapping people in webbing, but they were pretty powerful. But, that’s besides the point. The point was, Peter Parker would find his way around a fucking mountain just to piss you off.
You didn’t to say it was personal, but it was. At school, he was a completely different person. His usual loud, rowdy, and arrogant persona you saw almost every day at the base was flipped into a shy, quiet, and polite teenage boy around his schoolmates and teachers. His superhero tactics and attitude must of paved the way for his ego to grow immensely around you outside of school. You didn’t even speak to him in Algebra class, it was as if you two didn’t know each other. He was low on the social radar at school, but you, you were even lower.
That didn’t bother you, knowing that as long as Peter kept your secret from everyone, you would keep his. But, this whole “teammate guidelines” book wasn’t even established beyond the boundaries of missions. Around the base, he would do anything to piss you off, and he knew it. He knew how angry you would get when he yanked your glasses of playfully as you worked vigorously on your homework. Or, when you would have to go on missions with him, he acted as if you were there to observe and he was sent to complete the job.
This was one thing you never grew tired of, and you attempted to tell Tony, but then decided against it, due to the fact Tony would just believe it was the two teens on the team who wanted to start drama.
So, you tried to keep your fiery comments back to Peter very slim, but that was on a good day.
Today was not one of those days.
Your mind had been attempting to focus its full attention on your Algebra homework for the past hour, but everywhere you traveled to try and get some peace and quiet, something disrupted you. So, you decided to land your final destination in the Fitness Room, somewhere you never went (lol). You typed in the pass code on the pad next to the door and walked in, the sound of absolute silence hitting your eardrums instantly. The sound was music to yours in a way as the silence settled you down and kept you calm.
Finally. There’s no arguing Tony and Steve, no loud Bucky and Sam, and then best of all, no bickering, egotistical Peter.
You sighed heavily in victory before making way to the only table in the Fitness Room. Sitting down at the white table, you pulled out your Algebra book and spiral, turning directly to the page you had stopped on when you heard Thor yell from behind you, “Neither of you are worthy!”.
You place your hands in your tangled locks, slipping on your glasses before looking down at the book to continue your studying in hopefully, silence.
Okay, if the four is squared then there’s no way this could work. The problem has to be undefined, I just don’t understand how-
You obviously spoke way too soon. Your thinking was stopped midway of the problem once your ears perked at the sound of the door swinging open and the footsteps of the last person you would want in there with you at the moment.
“Hey! Y/N! What are you doing studying in here?”
The voice that made your head ache and your veins pop out of your arms rang through your ears in a loud, uneasy echo throughout the seemingly vacant room.
Your Y/E/C eyes shut themselves tightly, fists matching them as you reached up to yank your glasses off your head and slam them down on your book in annoyance. Turning around to lock gazes with the prick behind you, you feel the peak of your complete and utter luck drop to the bottom of the line.
“This was the only quiet place in the entire building,” your pink lips open in a scowl as you made sure to emphasize the ‘was’ in your statement.
Peter’s brown eyes rolled into the back of his head as he tossed his towel across the room, landing on a weight bench. His shoulders shrugged in a careless manner, “Well, now it isn’t.”
A deep groan emitted from the bottom of your throat at his comment. Why can’t you just do one thing? One thing, Without Peter worming his ass into it. Whatever, you’ll just ignore him for the time being. You could do that, right? Of course you could.
Another sigh emits from you before you turn back around and attempt to focus on the problem that’s been eating your energy our for minutes. Slipping your glasses back on, you pick up your pencil and begin to work the problem form the beginning, seeing if you could start over and maybe, finally solve it.
As you began to write the four transitioning from the other side of the equation, your brain realized that wouldn’t work and mentally erased the idea from your mind. Minutes passed, and after five tries, your mind starts to get antsy and annoyed with the erase marks and X’s scattered all across your paper.
“I just don’t understand why you can’t subtract it from the-but wait. Then you would have to add, but no. That doesn’t make any sense either…” you muttered yourself, grumbling as you trailed off your incorrect thought and filed it with the others. You bit your chapped lip and tugged on it as your eyes lifted from the book to wander around the room in thought.
Your eyes shifted from towards the left corner of your eye and your intense, diligent gaze shifted from cloudy numbers scattered around your brain to a site that you hate to admit it, made your mind wander from math to an entirely new adventure. As you thought your eyes would meet a vacant workout bench, they instead met a very sweaty and very shirtless Peter Parker lifting weights before you.
What even was, Math?
Your thoughts vanished of immediate hatred every time your eyes met his figure. This time, your mouth went from ‘opened wide to scream something cursing at the boy in front of you’ to ‘close your damn mouth, Y/N, drool is starting to form at the boy in front of you’. His slightly tanned bare chest glistened with sweat dripping down to this stomach area. Obviously, Peter had yanked off the fully covered sweater that adorned his apparently, toned ass body underneath. You silently and guiltily prayed to the gods for the sight before you.
You continued to stare heavily at the sweaty, ripped boy lifting weights before you. Your eyes then trailed up to his bulging biceps, flexing every time the weight would come up above his sweaty head of hair. You felt your breath become heavy and your chest rise up in nervousness each time his body flexed in a new and fucking incredible way. Your eyes then made way to Peter’s hair, he usual slicked back hair was ruffled in curls, due to the fact the wetness made his true hair type become evident.
Okay fine, you knew Peter was very, very attractive. But this? This was something you definitely didn’t need in your life. This was going to make everything ten times harder in an argument with the ripped boy next to you. Why god, why? But at the same time, thank you god, thank you.
“Are you done?”
The sound of Peter’s raspy and slightly high voice range through your ears, snapping you out of your guilty Peter stare down. You veins pumped with nerves and your eyes greeted Peter’s right brown orbs in an entire new kind of look. The clouded anticipation of Peter’s body was no longer evident in your eyes, it was now the usual annoyed glaze over your orbs. Your brain wracked for something smart to say back, knowing you’d been caught.
God, he is never going to let you live this down.
“What are you talking about?” you faked reality and acted as if he was the crazy one. You narrow your lids in seemingly displeasure and throw your pencil down, which had almost broken due to your fist squeezing it into oblivion.
Peter then jumped down from the slightly high step that supported numerous types of workout equipment. His wet towel was grasped in his right hand as he walked to right next to you, bare body leaning against the pole, “You’ve been checking me out for the past three minutes,” he interjected, arms folded across his chest cockily.
Your heart was beating quickly at his sudden confession, the truth obviously being told. You attempted to think of something fast before your major contemplative actions became too obvious. So, you thought of the most clever response you could come up with on a whim.
“Ew, no I haven’t.”
Wow, Y/N. That was genuinely so clever, you dumb ass.
“Uh, yeah you were,” he pushed back, leaning himself of the pole and inching closer to you.
“NO, I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have.”
“Peter it’s called thinking!” you sassed back, now standing up as aggravation swept your entire demeanor. Your own arms folded over your chest in a heated daze as your eyes never took themselves off Peter’s.
“Really, 'cause the last time I checked, biting your lip and staring at someone’s chest isn’t called thinking.”
Your body was so close to Peter’s you could feel the hot breath roll off his lips and hot your face as he fired back another comment. The body proximity of you two was nearly close to passing the 'too close’ line, but you didn’t care. You weren’t about to let Peter have this hanging over your head for the rest of your life. No matter how fucking good he looked sweaty and shirtless, you had to win.
Your eyes searched Peter’s in an intent stare as you popped out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for months, “Why do you always want to argue with me?”
You watched as Peter’s pink lips turned up into a playful smirk before stepping across that proximity into dangerous territory. Your pulse quickened at your state, your body instantly responding to a glorious hot and sweaty boy standing so close to you. Your cheeks flushed as the thoughts of this ran through your brain. Your teenage hormones didn’t give a shit whether it was Peter Parker or not standing this close to you in this state, they just knew how to play you.
Peter’s lips inched closer to yours, and the closer they got, the farther your brain got from the feeling of dislike and annoyance with the boy in front of you.
“Because, arguing with you is always at the top of my list,” he daringly whispered against your lips, the breath from his comment hitting your mouth slyly. Your eyes bounced from Peter’s bright brown eyes down to those egotistical lips numerous times before you had no idea what the hell you were doing. Your hormones were in drive.
The next thing you knew, your hand wrapped itself around Peter’s neck and yanked him forward to meet your mouth in a hot, fiery, and searing kiss. The word hatred meant nothing to you as his slightly chapped lips pushed themselves back onto yours and his arms wrapped around your frame. One hand was placed on the back of his neck and the other reached down and ran up and down his glorious abs. You felt him moan slightly at your soft touch and pulled you even closer to him, if that was a possibility. Your body ignited with sparks at his touch, and your knees shook as his tongue attempted to slide itself past your lips.
With no sense of manner or care in the world, you allowed him to and your body almost fainted at the feeling. You could tell it was getting hot and heavy a little too soon, so you shut your lips back together and took your hand off the back of his neck and sighed against his lips.
Peter took this as a signal and kissed you one last time softly before pulling away. Both your bodies breathed heavily near each other in need for instant air. Your eyes met in a warm daze and you reached up in delight to faintly touch your lips.
Faces burning with sudden realizations and passion, you drew apart and for the first time, smiled genuinely at the other.
A/N: Celebrating Shawn’s birthday. Feedback is always lovely.
Word count: 4,518
Shawn and I had been living together for a little over four months now. Since Shawn agreed to letting me crash for a week while looking for something new after being kicked out of my dorm, things we didn’t count on happened between us and suddenly, we were practically roommates and enjoyed each other’s company for hours a day.
No one knew Eddie Kaspbrak better than himself. Even his closest friends didn’t know who he really was, who he wanted to be, who he wished he could be. But then Richie Tozier came along, with his wild hair, passion for film making, and annoying talent of making Eddie’s heart beat faster than normal, and he finally found someone who knew him better than he knew himself. And that scared the shit out of him.
BTS Reaction to Their GF Falling Asleep on Another Member
Incognito; bts reaction to their girlfriend falling asleep on another member? :)
Note: Thanks for the request cutie, I had fun with this one. ((: *credit to gif owners*
When he saw you sleeping on Jungkook, a scowl broke onto his features before he plopped himself onto the couch across from yours, watching how Jungkook was sprawled onto the couch with you laying slack against him, one of his arms thrown over your waist. A loud, obnoxious clap followed with laughter scared you two awake, and Jin would only be forcing a smile. “You know what makes my day?” He asked, his smile slowly diminishing as venom laced with every word that escaped his lips, “seeing my girlfriend laying against someone who isn’t me.”
Yoongi wasn’t pleased once he saw you sleeping on Jin’s lap as he ran his fingers through your hair while talking to the rest of the boys. He didn’t say anything, but his mood darkened the atmosphere and the boys’ felt it get thicker as Yoongi’s eyes were boring into Jin’s soul, and when the older looked up as he cocked an eyebrow, he knew exactly what was bothering Yoongi. “I thought you’d be okay with it?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi started, his snarl vibrating against his throat, “you thought.”
Hoseok walked into the studio only to find you and Yoongi laying yours heads on the table filled with music sheets while Yoongi’s hand rested on your cheek. His eyes narrowed, and he quickly took off his shoe as he threw it against the wall; the loud bang! forcing the two of you awake. Hoseok was smiling, although he was deeply annoyed, and you quickly swatted Yoongi’s hand away as you looked to the blond in mortification. “Oh god, I swear it was an accident.”
“Sure,” he shrugged, “maybe I should sleep on some other woman and call it an accident, too.”
The moment Namjoon saw you sleeping against Hoseok on the floor after he had went to get some drinks for the boys well done dance practice, he felt the jealousy punch him in the face in seconds. You two looked so innocent, dozing off with Hoseok’s head resting in your lap as your upper body rested awkwardly against his back. He felt guilty once he began to shake you, but when he whispered, “Let’s get you somewhere comfier, you’ll get sick on the floor like that,” you only smiled sleepily as he easily lifted you off the murmering Hoseok and took you away.
He knew Namjoon didn’t mean no harm, and that was exactly why he didn’t do anything once he saw you laying your head on his shoulder with your mouth wide open while Namjoon rested his head on top of yours. He was angry and annoyed, yes, but he knew how tired the both of you were, only leaving you two be as he released an angry sigh and walked away. He trusted the both of you, yet, he couldn’t help but be rude to Namjoon the next few days without meaning to. He was jealous as hell, snapping at his leader when he tried to make the smallest conversation with you.
Taehyung was beyond pissed, but he knew he couldn’t make a scene for something so harmless and pure. You were all packed in a car, and once you drowned into the dark depths of slumber, your head landing onto Jimin’s shoulder and not his, he began to seethe once he saw a soft smile crawl it’s way onto Jimin’s visage as a small brush crept onto his cheeks. It wasn’t long before Taehyung threw his arm over your shoulder and gently pulled your head onto his shoulder, sending Jimin a glare as the older boy gave Taehyung an annoyed raised eyebrow.
Jungkook was in a good mood when you decided to join in on the maknae lines’ video game extravaganza, but when he went to go get snacks and came back minutes later only to find you laying on Taehyung’s chest as he was sprawled on the floor with a controller in his hands, he became livid. He ripped the controller from your hands, glad that you didn’t wake from the force and started to jam the buttons while murdering both Jimin and Tae inside the game. “What’s wrong with you?” Jimin asked, throwing a soft punch on Jungkook’s shoulder, “calm down.”
Genre: Angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au
Pairing: Reader x Hoseok
Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.
Faint, slightly irritating rumbling sounds rang in my ears, slowly pulling me out of my otherwise heavy sleep and forced my sore eyes to blink a few times, before being able to open them fully. At first, everything seemed blurry and the noises surrounding me seemed rather unfamiliar.
Slowly, waking up fully, I found myself laying in Shawn’s lap with my feet across the empty seat, I should have been sitting in.
Lardo sighed. Immediately, Bitty set the ingredients on the counter and turned around, caretaker instincts on full alert.
‘Lardo? What is it?’
‘Humpf. I need to price my art, and it sucks,’ she mumbled, drawing a duckling on the margin of her list. ‘Needs to be done before the end of year expo, but honestly? I’d rather give the lot and don’t bother with money.’
‘Larissa Duan! You spent the entire semester on these! You can’t just give them away!’
‘… Yeah but I like making art.’
‘It’s still work! You should be paid for that effort! And all the money you spent on supplies- lord I can’t even imagine how much those gigantic canvases are. Weren’t you complaining about how expensive good paint is just the other day?’
‘Yeah, I guess so. So, you’re saying all good work deserves remuneration?’
‘So you should get paid for your jam.’
‘Wait what- no! Not me! This is completely different-’
‘Hm. I tried. Shits, your turn.’
At that same moment, Shitty enters the kitchen, dressed only in a pair of Falconers boxers and a black tshirt that belonged to Lardo, which fit him like a crop top. Bitty didn’t even know he was at Samwell that day.
‘Eric Bitty Bittleman The Second, tiny bro of my heart, maker of the pies, we need to talk.’
‘If this is about the jam, I already told the Falcs I didn’t want to be paid-’
‘I’m here to talk to you about market pricing, my man. There are other people, out there, working their asses off to make delicious jam, and they love doing it as much as you do. But those bros, bro, are actually depending on it to pay the rent. What you’re doing, here, is depreciating the value of jam, and convincing fans of said jam that they can have an product of excellent quality- for FREE! This is bad for business, Bits, this can even come back and bite you in the ass when you open a bakery. You don’t want to hurt future you and your fellow bakers, don’t you?’
Bitty stays silent for a moment, mouth wide open.
‘I- I didn’t think of it like that! I was just, you know, in the zone, you know how I get? And then there was all this jam, and I know the team would make a good effort, but they couldn’t seriously eat it all? But, I didn’t know it actually had an impact on the economy?’
‘Well, now that they know where to find delicious jam and baked goods for free, do you think the Falcs, their families and the SMH are going to get it elsewhere?’
Bitty bit his lip and looked at his hands.
‘I just wanted to make them happy. I love feeding people.’
‘And you can! You still can! I’m not saying you can’t make gifts once in a while or bake for your friends, I’m just saying there’s a line at some point.’
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I know nothing about- about pricing! Lardo, how do you even manage with art?’
‘I use my resources, man,’ she said, snapping her fingers.
At that moment, Ransom and Holster barged into the kitchen, both carrying their laptops.
‘Boys? Were you all waiting in the hallway?’
‘No time for chitchat, Bits, time is money,’ says Holster, straddling a chair backwards in front of him. ‘We’re here to help.’
‘I got a spreadsheet here,’ says Ransom, sliding his laptop. ‘Compiling ingredient prices, electricity for the oven, mason jar prices, transport from Samwell to Providence and your work time, from the moment you went to buy those fruits until you closed your last mason jar.’
‘That- that is a lot of time.’
‘Wish I had that kind of concentration for studying law,’ grumbled Shitty.
‘It’s not all,’ continued Ransom. ‘This second sheet calculates the prices of similar products from spots around Samwell and Providence, from the Stop N’ Shop to the fancy little cafés and farmers market near Jack’s house.’
‘Wait, did Jack sent you those?’
‘Brah, Jack ASKED US to do this,’ said Holster with a roll of his eyes.
‘So, here are the prices of a single jam unit- counting the ingredients and the mason jar,’ said Ransom, before clicking on another Excel page, ‘and this is the price of each if one calculates the time worked, compared to what bakers and cooks make in those same cafés and suppliers.’
‘…I- I understand wanting to keep the market, and paying for the ingredients,’ hesitated Bitty, ‘but I’m still not sure I want to be paid to bake?’
‘I’m gonna give away every single one of my art pieces,’ said Lardo, doodling more ducklings.
‘… Alright, alright, I think I get it. I’ll just put the money in the Haus funds, since I took pretty much all of it to pay for the ingredients.’
‘You put back what you took and you keep the rest,’ said Shitty. ‘Do you really want to graduate without a cent in the bank and live off of Jack’s salary?’
‘What? No! Of course not!’
‘So start making dough, my boy. That future bakery won’t finance itself, you know.’
‘Also, people respect a product if they have to pay a reasonable price for it,’ commented Holster. ‘You don’t want to ruin your reputation from the get go. Honestly I’d suggest asking for more, since it’s also fucking delicious and a secret family recipe and organic shit people are crazy about, but we’ll work our way up there over the years.’
‘Here, I got the price per unit, what everyone bought listed hockey team, then alphabetically, the total, subtracting what was borrowed to the Sin Bin fund- that makes-’
‘GOOD LORD THAT’S MORE THAN FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS.’
‘Well, it WAS a shit ton of jam,’ shrugged Lardo.
‘And hard work, too,’ added Shitty. ‘So, do you accept?’
‘Well, I guess? Y’all make a lot of good points…’
‘Sweet,’ said Lardo, sending a text.
A moment later, Bitty’s cell phone vibrated with a message. His bank application signalled that someone transferred him funds-
‘How did Jack know exactly how much to send???’
‘Told ya, Bits, it was all his idea,’ said Shitty. ‘And the Falcs have been giving him money, even hiding it in the pockets of his hockey bag, to pay for their stuff. He just wanted to make sure you were on board with it.’
Bitty didn’t know what to feel about all this, he was still insecure about pricing his jam - and his pies, cookies, muffins and other pastries, if one was to believe Ransom’s other Excel spread sheet- but the reality was that he was now five thousand dollars closer to open his own bakery, someday.
So, we all know there are A LOT of things Harry does that turn Draco on. Immensely. But I keep picturing this one thing…
Whenever Draco is staring at Harry in the Great Hall, in classes, in the corridors, on the Quidditch pitch - basically everywhere - he gets flustered when Harry touches his glasses. Especially when they’re in the middle of trading insults and Harry pushes up his glasses in defiance, paired with a heated scowl.
Whenever that happens, all Draco can think about is stepping closer to Harry and slowly sliding those glasses down his nose. He’d watch Harry’s eyes go wide, his mouth slightly open as Draco continues to slowly take off his glasses.
When Draco’s eyes flicker to Harry’s mouth, the other boy would gulp. Draco would lean in and purposefully breathe on Harry’s lips. His gaze would wander back up to those green eyes and he wouldn’t be able to suppress a grin. Because finally he can see those eyes up close and undistorted. They’re beautiful.
Harry would be breathing heavily at this point and when Draco can’t take the tension any more, he would put a hand on Harry’s hip and pull him towards him. Their lips would move together and Harry would sling his arms around Draco’s neck. It would be glorious. It already is in his mind.
So I’m pretty sure Draco is ready to come in his pants when one evening, in eighth year, after a Quidditch match, his fantasy finally comes true.
Prompt: Hey, I love your writings! Whenever you get the chance can you do a Peter Parker x reader where the reader is Tony Stark’s daughter and doesn’t know that they are dating but some of the other avengers start to find out. Maybe they are caught making out or accidentally flirting with each other in front of people. then the reader and Peter have to get them to keep it a secret? Please and Thank You!!
Word Count: 857
A/N: Written by Daisy. Also, I apologize for the wait!
“Peter!” You exclaimed, swatting your boyfriend away, “We’re going to get caught! My dad is going to kill me!” The two of you were seated in one of the communal living rooms of the new Avengers facility.
Peter groaned, rolling away from you and into a seated position, “Mr. Stark won’t kill anyone, let’s be honest.” He still had a knack for calling your dad, ‘Mr. Stark’, regardless of whether or not he was addressing him directly.
“I’d rather he found out later rather than sooner!” You insisted, sending a glare in Peter’s direction.
“It’s been two months! What’s the worst that can happen if we tell him? You don’t think he’d trust me to take care of you?”
You shook your head, “He’s just-he’s really, and I mean really protective Peter. I just want to enjoy some more time alone with you, without all the hovering, you know. And the teasing we’d get from every other person who lives here.”
“As you wish,” Peter said simply, “But if we went to your room nobody would see us-“
You punched his shoulder, “Just pick a movie Peter, we can’t always be sneaking about.”