#mentions of peter parker

[ppeanutz]

wade actually knows about both

[nibeul]

if ke huy quan played peter parker..

[id in alt]

[foolsocracy]

omg ally

[deadsetobsessions]

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1]

Peter’s no stranger to memories that comes as nightmares. There’s something different to them, the taste of terror that’s tinged with a feeling of “that’s happened.”

Flashes of Aunt May, dying as he stood next to her while choosing the city over her? Old hat. Inky darkness surrounding MJ falling as Peter reached for her, over and over again? Been there, seen that, didn’t even get a sick scar out of it. Racing against the clock to defeat some bad guy or an unknown threat? That’s his Thursday.

But this?

This isn’t his. It’s real, Peter could tell that much. Sure, it’s wrapped up in silk hisses and heart crushing terror, but Peter could always tell whether a nightmare was a nightmare or whether it was a memory.

This was a memory. Not his. His. It’s complicated.

“Your father, papito, he-,”

Then, it’d be the ruffle of his hair, brown eyes. It reminded him of his mom. But the crease of these eyes were different. Hardened, mean. Even towards him.

“Well, he said no, but I knew what he really wanted.”

The base of Peter’s neck always crawled when he remembered that line. His spider-sense warned him that whatever he’s remembering, he would not like.

“Ey, Peter.”

“Huh?” Peter blinked, looking up from where his arms were elbow deep in wires.

“Don’cha need gloves with that?” Frank asked, munching on some jerky. They were sitting in the living room, repairing a TV and a washer Frank had somehow managed to lug back to the apartment. It’s a toss up between Frank’s network of orphans (Peter included), street rats (these things are not mutually inclusive), or his own slightly higher than average strength. Not that they needed to thrift broken things, considering Peter’s funneling money from offshore bank accounts belonging to this America’s 1%. They just made it so easy! He and Ned had been hacking into government bases in middle school back on his world. This world? Not even a challenge. Regardless, this was kind of like… Frank’s version of those fancy sensory boxes for Peter.

“Oh, no. It’s not plugged in, see?”

“How’re ya gunna know it works then?”

“Plug it in after I’m done. Turn it off and on, you know?”

Frank stared at him, then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“If you burn down that portion of the house, at least we’ll be warm for a bit.”

“Thanks. Your confidence in me is astounding.”

“You talk like an old man.”

“I do not! Excuse you! If I’m old, you’re the expired knock off cup ramen in the back of a convenience store!”

“Yo, shrimpy, that’s rude, ya hear?” Frank snickered, impressed at the quip. The Alley kid turned brother stood up to plop next to Peter.

“So… you gonna go…?” Frank made a whooshing sound and held his hand in a web shooter position.

“Tonight? Prolly. Anything I should look out for?”

“You’re gunna get yourself killed, but yeah, heard the gang’s back up north.”

Peter flashed a smile, dimples coming out. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Frank.”

“Anytime, Spidey.”

Frank, though little (to Peter), was a good friend. Then again, considering Peter saved his ass both in mask and out of it, it’s to be expected. One would think that after eight years of hiding his identity, Peter would be better at it. Then, he got punted into a different world and got made by a child.

To be fair, the circumstances all but screamed Parker Luck, so Peter’s not counting this instance.

See, the first few days of this sudden cohabitation, Peter had asked Frank to find them furniture. Both because he was getting real sick of eating on the floor and because Peter needed to fix his suit to match his much younger body. Then, once he readjusted the shrinking nanotech and the spider legs to fit him in a way that wouldn’t break him, Peter had promptly swung out of the building and went patrolling. He stuck with the wandering Frank, taking out muggers and robbers and everything in between and past that around the area where Frank is.

Looking back, Peter realized how lucky he was when he decided to go on the “helping joyride” at the beginning of the evening. His spider-sense activated way later in the night, the moment where he began seeing and sensing the cameras that kept pointing towards him. He ducked and dodged out of the way, and eventually, the feeling left. Somebody was watching. And he doesn’t know where they stood on the moral side of things.

Anyways, it happened after three weeks and a half of going out and just… settling into life in Gotham. He had already been struggling to find a way home, scouring the libraries around Gotham on any subject that would aid in his multiversal travel. Peter would like to know which emo kid named this city.

Eventually, Parker Luck decided to strike once more.

“Get back, freak!” The lady brandished a wicked knife.

Talk about deja vu.

“Oh no! Knives! My greatest weakness!” Spider-Man yelled, sticking to the shadowed windows as he let his voice echo in the alley. Gotham had a lot of nice hiding places. Spider-man dropped down on her head like a bat out of hell and webbed the knife out of her hands. He webbed the mugger up onto the alleyway above normal reach, and told the man to call the police.

Frank screamed, just as Spider-man wrapped it up, loud enough to reach his enhanced hearing.

“Wait-!” The man tried to stop him, but Peter, small, trained, and having readjusted his reach, slipped away.

“What’s your name?!” The guy he saved yelled at his back.

Spider-man, distracted, yelled back, “SPIDEY!”

He shot webs upwards and used them to slingshot his way towards where Frank was. And… car! Peter used his webs to swing up, up, and let himself fall to gain momentum. At the last moment, Peter shot a web to the top of the car and pulled himself to it.

Shit, shit, shit. He’s stupidly attached to the kid, and he was stupid enough to let Frank go out into Gotham looking both well-fed and well clothed.

The world slowed as he locked eyes with a terrified Frank, who was getting dragged into a car.

The world narrowed to speed and Spider-Man landed on top of the car roof, sweeping his leg out and thankfully remembering his much shorter reach. His foot collided with the kidnapper’s face with the equivalent force of a grown up, slightly annoyed Peter Parker who’s letting his strength go a bit unchecked. Basically, they went flying, blood spewing out of the undoubtedly broken nose Spider-Man had just given them.

Standing on business, the shorter webster promptly flipped down wards as he all but glued the would-be kidnapper to the curb.

“You alright?”

“You’re- You’re that new mask.” Frank whispered, scuttling away from the car where he’d been dropped.

“Yeah, man. You okay?” His voice modulator came in clutch.

“Fuck. Fuck, I gotta-” Frank stumbled. The kid looked like he was one bad break away from snapping. Peter hated it when kids got that terrified look on their faces, it reminded him of himself, helpless as Ben bled out because they should never have to fear something that much.

Something’s wrong, though. As much as Peter wished otherwise, Frank was a Gotham bred and true alley kid, through and through. These kids don’t spook easily. Peter already stopped a couple of kidnappings and at least two of the kids had yelled at him to stay out of the way before unloading a rain of nut kicks on their kidnappers that left Peter wincing for days in sympathy. Frank being this spooked? Something’s going on.

“Woah, easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you,”

Frank shot him a half hysterical, half condescending look. Yeah, that’s more like it.

“Ob-obviously. I have to go before more of them comes,” Frank muttered.

“More of them? You know what they want?”

Frank stared at him, looking up and down at his blue, red, and gold ensemble.

“I can help,” Peter promised.

“What’re your thoughts on metas?”

Suspicious.

“Uh, they’re fine? Depends on the person, why?”

Frank sighed. The skinny teenager, barely 14, tugged at his hair. “They’re traffickers. Meta kids, mostly, so the Bats don’t do nothing. I- uh, I got caught.” He held up a thin wrist, showing Peter his new accessorie, a think metal bracelet that was beeping red.

Peter cursed in his head. Fuck, of course he’d stumble into a-

“Caught? You’re a meta?”

Frank nodded. “Strength. This is an inhibitor, illegal kind, you know?”

Well, that explained how he got all of those furniture without struggle.

“Right. Hey, don’t stress, kid, I’m a meta too.”

Frank blinked.

“What?”

Peter walked up the side of the car and did jazz hands.

“You’re a meta?! But- but you’re a mask operating in Gotham!”

“Yeah…? Is that weird?”

Before Frank could reply, Peter’s sense screamed and Spider-Man shoved Frank away from the spray of bullets.

“Move, Frank!”

Peter flipped away, vaguely aware of Frank’s gaping realization. He took down the shooters in quick succession, stopping the speeding car with his bare hands and some webs.

“Shooters, no shooting!” He yelled, liberally applying force he tended to keep under wraps. Frank was like a brother to him, and there is no universe where Peter Parker would hold back when his family was in danger.

When he got back to Frank, who had oddly stayed instead of running, Peter found out why the kid stayed.

“Peter?!” Frank hissed lowly, looking more pissed off than terrified. “Are you fucking insane?! Why are you running ‘round as a mask?!”

“Shhh!” Shit, he got made. “Come on, get back to the apartment and we can talk there. I’ll get rid of this-”

Peter casually snapped the bracelet in half, tearing the tracker out, and tucked it away to study later.

“Fuckin’- shit, fine, but you’re explaining everything, motherfucker!”

They split, Peter guessing correctly that he was in another lecture of a lifetime.

——

“Your vigilante name is Spiderman?”

“Hey, I can hear you say it without the hyphen! There’s a hyphen in there!”

“You’re not a man! You’re a twerp!”

“I’ll show you twerp, you-”

Five minutes of tussling later, in which Peter did not try to bite Frank’s arm off, thank you very much, Frank leaned back on the couch.

“Besides. People in the streets are calling you Spidey, anyways.”

“Spidey?”

“Some dude you saved from a mugging said you told him.”

Peter slammed his head on the floor where he was laying face down.

“Ughhhh.”

——

“He could have been great. I saw his potential.”

Anger. But he shouldn’t be afraid. The woman loved him.

“Hey, Peter. You’re up here again.”

“Hi.” Peter stayed curled up. His mind had refused him sleep for the last three nights, causing dark circles to appear underneath his eyes. The memories of what he assumed to be this world’s Peter was merging with his. What he’d seen so far did not fill him with confidence of a happy childhood. Flashes of wielding weapons, the sterile smell of a metal dissection table, and hundreds and hundreds of spiders crawling over him, getting startled into biting down. Plus, the stress of tracking down the meta trafficking circles in Gotham was no joke. He doesn’t know Gotham nearly as well as he knew New York, and he had to be extra careful running around and trying to catch every bit of the circle before making any moves. Frank was helping with his network of homeless Meta kids, but the traffickers were everywhere except for Crime Alley.

He should be dead. They sold his body to an organ harvester who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version.

“Everything all right?” Red Robin clambered down to sit next to him, cowl hiding the concerned scrunch of his brow. He’s never seen Peter like this.

Peter grumbled, staring down at another alleyway. He knows his alternate died. His shit excuse for another sold his body to an organ harvester, when he seized on the operating table, who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version. He does, however, have to worry about missing vital organs.

“I… remembered something.” Peter remembered a lot of things. And pretty much none of them were good. This Peter suffered a lot in his short life.

Red Robin nodded. The issue of Peter’s spotty memories had come up in their discussions over the past month.

“Ah. Something unpleasant?”

Peter thought back to the voice who, despite all of the other, highly traumatic memories, haunted his brain like nothing else.

“He didn’t live up to it. He refused to kill. So I made the decision for him.”

“Yeah. Not for me, but unpleasant that I know about it.”

“Yeah, I get that. You wanna talk about it?” Peter hid a small smile. Even though Red Robin kept his tone light, the concern still bled through. Warm. It made Peter feel warm. Even if it appeared that the Bats don’t really care about the trafficked meta kids… maybe Red Robin would come save normal kid Peter if he got kidnapped. A backup plan to consider. For now…

“Sure,” he said. Red Robin waited patiently.

“I think, I remember someone. Maybe, maybe my…” Peter grimaced. “My mom? She… told me something. And uh, I think I’maproductofrape.”

“Oh,” Red Robin said, so awkwardly that Peter had to crack a small smile despite the gravity of the topic. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too. Not myself, but for…” Peter waved a hand. “You know.”

“Yeah.”

“She wasn’t a good person,” Peter whispered and hated how he missed the browns of her eyes- her middle name was Marie, and god, Peter wished he hadn’t known that because he gets why her eyes reminded him so much of his own mother- and she besmirched everything Mary Parker stood for.

“You have our combined potential, Peter. Make sure not to be like him too much and live up to it, papito.”

“It’s okay, to love her even if she hurt other people,” Red Robin said, gently ruffling his greasy hair. Peter’s spidey-sense tingled and he ducked away. Red Robin withdrew his hand. “Because you can’t really help that. Trust me, I’ve tried. You just have to make sure they don’t get the chance to do what they did again.”

Cold, cold voices and his voice gave out from screaming. “You really are your father’s son. Never being able to do what’s necessary.”

And Peter wondered what happened to Red Robin and who hurt him. Peter would just like to talk. Red Robin reminded him of himself, way back when being Spider-Man meant finding out Harry became Green Goblin. Pained. Tired.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. But that’s not really a problem, considering the last thing the organ harvester said before dumping him in an alley. “She’s dead in a ditch in Siberia or something. I’m not really worried she’ll do it again.”

“Uh.”

“It’s cool,”

“Right. Have you… remembered your dad?”

“Yeah. He’s in Gotham,” Peter unfurled a little.

“You want help tracking him down? I’m good at that kind of thing.”

Peter glanced at Red Robin. “I think you just admitted to being a stalker.”

“Vigilante,” Red Robin shrugged, like it explained everything. And yeah, it kind of did. Peter snorted.

“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to meet him anyways.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t know about me,” Peter ticked off his fingers. “I’m a literal walking, talking, breathing reminder of his trauma. And I don’t need a dad.”

Red Robin looked at him silently. Peter doesn’t think about it.

He never wanted to see his parents suffer. An alternate version of his dad, hurt so irrevocably by an alternate version of his mom?

Peter hated that this Catalina dirtied his mother’s name, and went against the most fundamental parts of what the spider symbol was meant for. And considering he’s been doing this longer than her, he had first dibs on defining it. He’ll look after his dad, as long as he’s stuck in Gotham. It’s only right.

“His name? Oh, my son, it’s Richard Grayson.”

——

Peter, who Trusts his instincts: no head rubs?? awwwww

Tim, who’s been trying to get a dna sample for the last month: how does he keep evading me?? He must be a genius or a spy or- *spirals down the conspiracy board*

——

Tim: I’ve connected the dots!

Peter: you’ve connected jack shit

——

Listen, the moment I learned Catalina Flores’ middle name, the pieces clicked, okay? Like legos. It’s like, former FBI agent in this one and former CIA agent in Peter’s home universe? Wow. Middle name Marie? Mary Parker? Incredible. Spider themes run in the blood apparently?? They both have brown eyes!! Trying to do good with no qualms about murder!! (I’m assuming since Mary Parker was SHIELD and I don’t think SHIELD cared much for the sanctity of human life if it threatened the country or something)

[ivvyela]

thinking about that theory where peter parker is the mcu's anchor being. and like. the possibilities of it. imagine learning your entire universe's anchor being, the person who pretty much controls the fate of the universe, is some guy who just doesn't exist??? not even dropped off the face of the earth, but there is no proof of this person even existing in the first place???? and maybe strange or the fantastic four or whoever feels responsible for/is tasked with finding and protecting this anchor being but that's kinda hard to do when you have Absolutely Nothing to go off of.

or alternatively, peter himself learning that the entire universe is basically relying on him staying alive, and he already has a lot on his shoulders but this??? having lost everything and everyone and now learning that the weight of the world is literally on his shoulders and fuck!!! he just wanted to be a friendly neighborhood spider-man but that's parker luck for you!!

and like. there's so many ways to take it and i haven't seen anyone considering this and guys. guys. consider it. take it and run with it or what have you. fuck it and throw doctor doom in the mix for the irondad girlies because surely that will be fun.

and i know i know the theory doesn't fully go hand in hand with the mcu cannon but. fuck the cannon. let me scream into the void about this. let me shove it in your faces and hope someone does something with it. let me have my silly where's waldo peter parker anchor being au.

[glassrunner]

MARVEL'S SPIDER-MAN 2 ➤ Tag-Team Celebrations

[erinwantstowrite]

MY BOY NED IS TRANS IN LOF???? 🥹🥹🥹

HE IS!!!!

[theshadowrealmitself]

I need more au’s of Peter Parker starting as one of the first vigilantes at a really young age (like 10) and somehow being able to keep his age a secret, like I want him to have become known, even if not too well known so that people can’t see him too well and notice how young he is but they know he’s there and patrolling, before Iron Man and the others pick up the hero business

Just so every time they try to tell him how to do something, he’ll be like “excuse me?? I’ve been doing this longer than you” and have everyone convinced that he’s older than them, and the whole time he’s like, max 26 years old

[comic-art-showcase]

Spider-Man by John Amor

[the-kr8tor]

Reporting for duty Captain!

A tasm Peter Parker request for a shy reader who likes Peter but backs out when she wants to talk to him or- OR, (more like and) a reader with w rizz who's known Peter since forever and ever. Who has the same interest in photography as he does?? Works in a photo store??

Cook chef!

*gasp* a peter parker request?! Got you, my love 🫡 happy to oblige.

Pairing: TASM! Peter Parker x fem! Reader/ TASM! Spider-Man x fem! Reader

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, Love struck Peter, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Peter doesn't need to ask around campus for you, he already knows where you are, a perk of knowing you since grade school. He evens his breathing when he finally reaches the worn out doors.

The bells jingle as he enters the old store, yellowed wallpaper greeting him and drab shelves lined with rolls of films, the vintage cameras make up for the boringness of the gray shelves. Ancient posters of movies lined the walls, a time capsule of the early eighties. It's silent inside, no other customer than him.

His sneakers squeak on the linoleum as he walks towards the cashier, expecting to see your smile, your hands occupied with whatever book you're currently (hating) reading. He finds it empty.

Peter's spidey senses don't tingle so he can relax knowing that you're in the back of the store. He jumps over the counter effortlessly thanks to his abilities. Knocking on the door, he hears the muffled sound of your speaker.

“Y/N?”

“In here, Pete—! Wait!!” With a creak, Peter opens the door without skipping a beat. The light from the store filters through the dark room, white covering and filtering out all the red. “No! Close it quick!”

“Oh shit!” He shuts it quickly behind him, too fast and harder than he thought, the wood almost cracks at the sheer force. Wincing, you both mirror each other's expression.

“Pete…” you sigh, closing the distance to check the door, you can't afford to lose a chunk of your paycheck for repairs. But you don't blame him, it's hard to stay mad at Peter especially when he's looking so apologetic at you, almost like a kicked puppy. “You got too excited to see me huh?”

He shuts his eyes with a smile, head falling down, chin atop his chest. He looks exasperated but he did it to hide the blush on his cheeks, hoping that if you manage to glimpse it you'd think it's from the red light.

This won't do, you thought. You missed him too much today just for him to hide his face from you. To remedy the feeling, you grasp his cheek, thumb gently placed right under his eye.

“There you are webhead,” your voice is saccharine, the ruby light bouncing off your face, illuminating your features perfectly. Peter thought he'd melt right on the spot. “Missed me?” In truth, you're the one who misses him most.

He wants to say yes without a second thought but knowing you, you're already aware of his answer. Even though you refuse to acknowledge it. Under all the teasing exterior there's shyness underneath it all, with just one flirty comment thrown your way you'd probably collapse.

Peter finally meets your smiling eyes and for a moment you're the only thing that matters.

With classes and spiderman responsibilities, hanging out with you has been scarce, he needed a fix right away, that's why he came sprinting towards the store immediately after a three hour class and after swinging across town to your favorite deli with his wind swept hair and shirt that definitely needs ironing.

“Not really.” A lie, an awful lie on his part.

“Aww,” you dramatically clutch at your chest, hand leaving his skin to his dismay. “Hear that? You just broke my heart, Parker.”

“D’you even have one?”

“Hey!” You playfully punch his shoulder. “You're the one who ruined my pictures.”

His eyes flick towards the clothesline filled with pictures that just screams ‘you.’ “I can see from here that they're not ruined.”

You click your tongue, hands on your hips, you walk back towards the table. “What are you doing here then, webhead?” Lowering the volume of your speaker, you decide to shut it off when his voice is a much better alternative.

“I feel like I should be offended by that.” Peter stands beside you, hip to hip, arm brushing along yours.

Placing his hand on the small of your back casually, he loops his thumb around your belt loop, pressing softly on your skin. He's done this a hundred times during your friendship but it never fails to wake up the butterflies in your stomach.

“I've called you that numerous times.” Holding the tongs, you carefully place the developed photo in the chemical mixture in the basin, eyes watching the picture pop up slowly.

“Stop being mean, I've come bearing gifts from the deli you like.” His voice is quiet, soft just for you.

“The one that's on the upper west side? Peter, that's really far away.”

“I don't mind, that's what web swinging is for right?”

You scrunch up your nose, Peter has the best seat in the house while he admires your expression.

“And here I thought it was for fighting crime.” You chuckle, pushing the paper further down in the basin. His deep chuckle stops abruptly at the sight in front of him.

Peter's own smiling face greets him and your charisma cracks.

“Oh” you manage to let out with your dry mouth.

You can hear him shudder a breath next to you. The picture is framed perfectly, his face centered in the middle amongst the crowd, zoomed in more like. You clearly avoided having other people in the frame, your main subject was him and him alone.

“...Good picture.” He slaps himself mentally.

“Yep, one of my best, I think.” You say quietly, too quietly. Clearing your throat, you avoid his eyes, “why don't you ready the food? Outside, please?”

Peter shakes himself awake. His skin feels like lava, there's a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. Hands clammy, he nods wordlessly. He awkwardly pats your back before leaving your side.

Walking towards the exit, your back turned towards him, shoulders slouched and tensed. He turns towards you before exiting, “looks like you missed me more, sweetheart.” He's called you that millions of times, all filled with more affection than the last but this one, oh this one he added with so much love that it could stop your heart.

And you think it has.

Peter hears you squeak, a sound he hasn't heard you make since high school when he asked you to dance during the winter formal.

You whirl around, catching sight of his Parker smile, charm oozing out of him that's already gone before you could admire him in the crimson light.

He leaves, shutting the door quickly. Laying his sweaty forehead on the door, he tightly closes his eyes again, feeling like a lightning just struck him and adrenaline coursing through his veins, needing to swing off the extra energy.

Blowing hot air, he takes his clammy hands off the doorknob to take out the food he bought, grinning through it like a mad man.

Meanwhile, you clutch the table with a grip, heart threatening to jump out of your chest, heat in your cheeks as the photo of Peter smiles at you.

Laughing to yourself, you take out his picture to clip it on the clothesline next to the other pictures. You have no idea what to say to him once you leave the room, or do you just stay in the dark room forever? Either way, you're absolutely fucked.

[d3adbr3inc3lls]

Tom!Peter Parker x Reader | Headcannons + Oneshot

A/N: I don't know how to write confession scenes, (I'm a hopeless romantic if you remove the 'romantic' part because I've had no experiences with romance) but I tried my best.

Peter is a hopeless romantic.

He'd always steal glances at you whenever you were in class, turning away when his spidey senses told him that you noticed him.

He had a whole list of date ideas if the moment ever came.

Peter knew that it may not happen, but he still liked to update the list whenever he saw a cool place where he could take you.

If he wasn't going to use it, he could always give some of the places to Ned if he needed them, but he mostly kept them to himself.

Especially any places little people knew about.

10/10 thinks of scenarios that would most likely never happen (not unless one of you actually make the first move)

When he does confesses, he has everything planned out.

Sitting down next to him, he lifts his hand to the sun, checking how many fingers fit under the it to give him a rough estimate of something.

“5 more minutes until the sun sets,” He breathed out.

How he knew this was beyond you.

Perhaps he learnt it whilst being in extension something?

Yeah that’s definitely it.

He flicks his gaze at you. He had come here early to make sure the two of you didn’t miss the sunset.

This had to be perfect.

The silence between the two of you was comfortable as you gazed at the waters, the warm oranges of the sun being reflected below.

Hearing Peter sigh, he shifted closer, not enough to invade your personal space, but still closer.

It wasn’t long before the sky was painted with vibrant pinks and oranges,

"There's been something-"

Peter pauses, closing his eyes he lets out a soft exhale, trying to pull himself together before opening them, his chocolate ones meeting your vibrant ones.

"I've wanted to tell you something."

You couldn't help but stare at him, the warm tones of the sunset kissing his face, making him look like an angel sent from above.

With the amount of lives he's saved, he might aswell be one.

He holds your gaze, taking something out of his pocket, only glancing away as it almost slips from his hand.

You freeze as you watch him quickly snatch the object, not giving you any time to process what it is. You've always known his reaction speed was quick and sometimes you swore that he wasn't human.

"I- It's-"

He stammers a bit, his awkward personality seeping back in as he looks at the sunset, only sneaking a glance when you follow his gaze towards the blazing star.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same, but-"

Another deep breath escaped his lips. His chocolate doe eyes meeting your gaze as he fidgets with the object in his hand.

Taking your hand in his, he turns it so the palm is facing up and places the object in his hands into yours.

Closing your hand, his eyes flicker to the object, which you could feel is packaged in something,

"I like you- I've liked you for a while now, and- are you free this Saturday,? We could go to that one Cafe you always talk about-"

[mamaspidershit]

[Maria drunkenly wanders around the house and Clint is drunkenly giggling] Natasha, completely sober: *sighs* Well, looks like it's just me and you against the world, Peter. Peter, going to his room: Nope, just you. *shuts door*

[xozombiee]

nerd | p. parker.

warnings: praise, peter parker’s abs, fingering, marking, kissing, nerd kink😶…, dirty talk?, boring nerd facts

synopsis: peter finds out you’re secretly turned on by his intelligence and uses it against you.

study nights like this weren’t unusual. peter sitting by your side while your sat with your legs crossed next to him. text books were scattered across your bed since he was helping you study for a chemistry quiz that was this friday.

you shut the book with a huff, turning to the boy next to you. “i’m bored.”

peter looks up from his book, “you wanna take a break?” he asks.

you nod in reply, jumping off the bed. you stretch, your shirt rising up in the process which makes the spider boys face turn pink. you smiled, “you hungry? i can make some food real quick.”

“maybe later. we should take a break for a few then get back to studying.” he suggested.

you let out an exasperated whine, falling back into your rolling chair. “whyyyy? i hate studying. it’s so boring.” you argued.

“you said it yourself. you cant fail this test.” he replied. you frowned. “well not everyone is as smart as you, pete.”

“i’m not that smart.”

“yes you are! you have so many awards! and you’re like…awesome at everything!” you told him, making him smile.

“you’re actually so smart…it’s kinda hot.” you grumbled like an old man. peters ears perked at your words.

“hot?”

“yes, it’s hot!” you yelled, spinning the chair away from him.

peter took a moment to think. you were obviously embarrassed about it. so was there was more to the story? he smirked to himself as he thought of an idea.

he stood up from his spot, getting close to your ear, “did you know there’s enough dna in the average persons body to stretch to the sun to pluto and back—seventeen times.” peter whispered.

“seventeen?” you mumbled, turning your head to his.

“yeah. and, the earth has a mass of five point nine seven times ten to the power of twenty four kilograms.” he smiled.

you stared at him, eyes shifting to his lips every two seconds before you finally pulled the collar of his t-shirt. your lips connected. peters hands grabbed your hips, steadying himself above you. you stood from the chair, walking to the bed. lips disconnecting for a breath of air. your hands were pushing the text books onto the floor.

your knees met the mattress, your weight sinking it in as you sat. you wiggled your hips as you crawled across the bed. peter stared at you like you were the millennium falcon lego set you had gotten him for christmas. he was absolutely so in love.

he followed behind you, dragging your hips back to him. you squirmed in surprise, watching peter grin at you. his fingers played with the hem of your shorts and you were practically begging for him to take them off.

“is this okay?” he asked, tugging them to your thighs.

you nodded desperately, making him smile to himself. after taking your shorts off, all to be seen were the cute cotton flower panties you wore underneath them. a small damp patch was covering the middle, making all the blood in peter shoot down his body.

opened mouth kisses were placed along down your torso, “did you know a cloud can weigh about a million pounds.” he said between each kiss.

you felt insane for being turned on by this.

“peter..”you sighed, wrapping a hand in his brown locs.

“baby?” he replied. his eyes stared up at you, watching as you looked as if you were about to faint.

“need you…now.” you whispered. you just want him to stop teasing you and start pleasing you. feeling his breath near your core was driving you insane.

hands trace against the inside of your thighs, sending shivers up your spine. peter pushes the fabric that covered your cunt to the side, putting two fingers inside of you and curling them as he does, making you moan.

“peter.” you barely say below your breath, holding onto his bicep.

“shhh..baby. let me take care of you.” he said against the skin of your collarbone. you whispered in reply.

his kisses were so light against your neck. if you hadn’t known it was him, you would’ve thought a butterfly had landed onto your throat, fluttering peacefully. his trail of kisses moved down to your chest, then eventually to your stomach again.

“pretty girl..my pretty girl.” he muttered.

you cupped your mouth with your hand, muffling the cries of your voice. you couldn’t let your roommate hear, or your other colleagues down in the other dorms.

peter noticed the hand covering your mouth. he took the hand occupying your insides, removing it and pulling yours away.

“don’t get shy on me now.” he pouted.

your legs closed from the loss of touch, hoping for some friction as you rubbed them. peter brought his lips close to your ear, pushing your hair away from your face.

“i know you think about this all the time. it’s so obvious from the way you stare.” he says.

your eyes squeeze shut, “peter, please..”

“please what?”

you get quite at the next part, but thanks to peters enhanced senses he heard what you said clearly. 

“always.” he replied. you watched as he ripped his own shirt off, his abs coming into sight. god he was fine. he pulled back your underwear, watching as it tickled down your thighs.

peter entered slowly, bottoming out. for several moments, the bedroom was silent, apart from your panting. your eyes couldn't leave his figure.

you reached a hand up to push several strands of hair out his eyes. he pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in, making you throw your head back.

fuck you were gorgeous with your head thrown back against the pillow, back arched. it wasn't the first time peter had seen such a sight. hell, he’d even took pictures and videos of it for himself.

"gonna fill you up, pretty." you nodded, the corners of your vision beginning to blur from the intense pleasure. 

you could feel the spark of your insides begin to light, almost as if it was about to go off. you were so close. “peter.”

“yeah?”

“close.”

peter grabbed your hips, adjusting them to his. he picked his pace up, making your brain fuzzy. the circles he was tracing on your clit added to the pleasure he was submerging you in. your fists grabbed the sheets as if they were going to save you from this animal of a man.

You were incoherent as you came, only whines mixed with slurred chants of his name leaving your mouth. peter followed quickly behind you; a whimper leaving his lips.

peter relaxed against you, his head falling against your chest. you laughed softly as his curls tickled your skin. “fuck.” you breathed.

“yeah, fuck.” he grinned.

the two of you laughed, holding each other tightly. the room was soon filled with silence once more. it was comfortable. as always.

“yknow..the world record for the most female orgasms is one hundred and thirty four in one hour. i bet we can beat that.” peter winked.

the room was silent.

a loud cackle was heard from below him, which is where you were laying.

“why the fuck do you know that?”

@xozombiee2022

[all-0f-the-above]

the superhero's parallel to the hero's journey is one of an almost unbreakable curse: someone is harmed or killed while you are unable to stop it. you spend the next part of your life learning how to stop exactly that, promising yourself it won't happen again. you think to yourself, "if only I had been more prepared the first time, then I could have stopped it."

except defusing bombs isn't the issue. the person planting them is.

betrayal can't be anticipated: that's what makes it a betrayal.

and it's impossible to predict every single time someone will need life saving medical care.

still, you fantasize, "if I had the knowledge I have now, things would be different." and you save others from the same situation. time and time again. but still you ache. you didn't do it all those years ago. it haunts your every triumph.

it's not until you look in from the outside. the exact same thing happens to someone else this time, and you weren't able to stop it.

as you're beating yourself up for it and desperately trying to control the damage that's been done, you see someone sitting off to the side. they are alone and wrapped in a blanket. when you talk to them, you are shocked to hear that they blame themselves.

"What?!" you exclaim, "it wasn't your responsibility to stop this- you couldn't have known! it's on the shoulders of the perpetrators and people like me, who couldn't make it in time."

they are inconsolable. "from now on," they say, "I won't be so naive, and I will do everything I can to stop this from happening again."

you know when a battle is lost, so all you can do is nod and step away. back to your own business.

but it makes you terribly sad for someone to lose their innocence in such a way. to blame themselves for the consequences of someone else's evil. to never again see the world as a hopeful place: just a mosaic of fulfilled and missed opportunities.

and your story, the hero's story, will be tragic as long as you continue without looking inward.

it is only by considering your own beliefs that you are free of the vicious cycle:

sometimes, there is no happy ending, no clever way out. sometimes, awful things happen and there is nothing we can do about it. all we can do is pick ourselves off the ground, movement by excruciating movement, and hold our heads high. we continue. because it is worth it. not because you can "fix" things now. not because you will do things "right" this time. but because you deserve a good life. a life after the bad things. a joyful life.

this is when when you, the hero, finally realize that you're living a triumph. that even after something tragic happens, your life is not a tragedy.

[iwasbored777]

The thing about Spiderverse fandom is that we're debating if Miles should forgive Gwen and did she have a good reason not to take his side and everyone's making these analyses and stuff but no one cares about Peter B no one is asking if he should be forgiven or whatever mf is just there. Gwen and Miles get this major love drama and Gwen gets a full character arc and she's so fleshed out and Peter he just has a baby and no one's asking why he didn't visit Miles (he had a happy life to come back to unlike Gwen in case he gets kicked out) and then he joins the kids in the end of the movie just bc. Dude is just....there...and he has a baby. And that's all.

[spider-whoo]

I think its funny that the fact everyone likes to bring up about noir Peter is that the vulture ate uncle ben and not that his best friend was lobotomized my a nazi