Tasm!peter Parker - Tumblr Posts

What happens when there's a little chemistry between two teachers but things don't go quite as planned? Sometimes a little brainpower helps. Read The Peace Treat-y (Comes With Sprinkles) by @delicate-dorothea for a fun read featuring Teacher!Peter (Peter Parker that is)!

The Peace Treat-y

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The saying goes "keep your friends close and your enemies closer," but what are you to do when the closer you get to your enemy, the more you realize the enemy was doing likewise? Now you're stuck with Peter Parker and couldn't get away if you tried because you both share a common foe: Ellis Beaumont and all his suspicious maneuverings. Even if Peter does nothing but irritate you to no end, affairs of the heart are never simple, and would spending an evening with Peter Parker dressed in a suit be that bad? Read the fic and find out! Fanfic rec for Friday: Rose Thorn Blues by @helloheyhihowdyheya, another one of the authors whose writings I enjoy!

Rose Thorn Blues (multiple parts, the link is for Part 1)

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This Friday Fic Rec is one for those of you who like to....linger...over a story kinda like the lingering looks those big brown doe eyes above are giving you. A multi chapter story featuring mob!peter parker and an OC with a twist. Love and loss and learning how to communicate are not easy things, but with a longer story, there's time for everyone to figure it out...and the best part is the story still continues. Read @backtothefanfiction 's The Angel In The Garden Of Evil as it joins some of the other fantastic mob!peter fics currently in the fanfic library.

The Angel In The Garden Of Evil (fic contains mature content)

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I like the opening. I'm quite intrigued with time, so you hooked me with that right away. Then the way Peter and Reader had to negotiate time (with each other) takes it into the relationship between them and the pressure that time-- how one prioritizes it and how each interprets that. Very relatable. Very frustrating (for them).

But oof, poor Reader, I was hurting right alongside because that was a gut wrenching scene when Peter got to the warehouse. Could feel the anger at the discovery and the desire for revenge.

The ending was worthwhile though. I don't think they will ever view time together or apart quite the same way again. Well done!

Tracking

A/N: Wow, just yeah. I know it's been a long while since I posted for Peter, but like I promised, I was working on things for him and here it is! Now, I'll crawl back into my cave until my next writing is ready. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Word Count: 6.4K+

Time is a fucking thief. Really, it is. Waking up with the rising of the sun, getting ready to go to a job you despised, remaining in a windowless cubicle for eight hours, making dinner, then time to sleep again. Watching the clock as each passing minute was taken from you over and over again. Now when you throw being a superhero into the mix, it makes it even worse.

Holding down relationships, careers, any and all of the important things in life were always seemingly snatched away when it came to the personal life of crime fighting vigilante Spider-Man. That’s why when you entered his life it was like getting another opportunity to engage with time he had never experienced before.

Looking forward to coming home and eating dinner, stopping by on patrol nights to give you a goodnight kiss no matter what, to Peter Parker, he would do everything in his power to devote as much time as he possibly could to you.

Perhaps you were the time thief in his life now. Either way he didn’t mind when it came to you.

Were there times when it just simply wasn’t possible to shovel all of his waking energy towards you? Of course! The problems came when it had been that way for months. Yeah, you read that right.

In the span of four months, Peter had become so ravaged with his other entities responsibilities that his time with you was drastically rescinded. Unanswered text messages for days, not a peep from him for a week at a time, no more windowsill kisses. It was like he had vanished into thin air.

You understood at first. Hell, you had been dating the man for three years! What was happening, though, was unlike anything he had ever dealt with before. A group of men, identities undisclosed, were wreaking havoc throughout New York City. For months on end, like clockwork, every other week a crime would occur.

Each more gruesome than the last.

Peter had never really been on a deadline like this. Knowing that with each ticking second it was growing closer to the next attack. Spending all nights on the streets, trying to spot whoever could be responsible for this.

The worst part was that he had no leads. A few locations that were all pointless distractions. No semblance of an inkling as to who was committing all of these atrocities. In the span of time since their starting, over eight lives had been taken. A mind boggling number for such a short span of time.

Police were just as useless and he had decided to not take up any more time than necessary with them in tow simply because they weren’t taking this as seriously as they should have been. Instead of confronting the public, reminding them to be careful and not to wander alone past sunset, they were sweeping it under the rug.

Not wanting to cause a public disturbance. No need to fear monger they had told Spider-Man. Assuring him that all of those victims were tied to a gang in one way or another and it was criminal activity work. Something that he shouldn’t spend too much time dwelling on.

That was not a good enough answer for Peter. He didn’t believe them. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure it was a group behind all of this. It could have been a serial killer that was on one hell of a spree.

There was no pattern with their victims either. Randomly selected from the streets. What you didn’t understand was why Peter was involved with all of this. Of course, you knew he wanted to do all in his power to save as many lives as he could, but you warned him to be careful after the initial police warning.

Sticking his nose in places it didn’t belong was not going to end well. It had been the first time you two had argued to that extent. Shouting at the top of your lungs you weren’t ready to lose him and that’s what you were afraid was in the works.

He called you silly for thinking such things. That you needed to have more faith in him than you were giving. It still didn’t answer why he was so invested in this. You knew there were details he was purposely not giving you. Maybe he didn’t want to frighten you or maybe he thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but to you, you were a partnership, a pair.

All you wanted was to have Peter back around. Who knows, you might be able to actually help him if he came to you and showed you what he did and did not have. Instead, he hid it from you. Becoming cold and aloof. Distant and consumed.

If there was something you knew about Peter it was that he did not like being bested. Truly holding himself to a standard that was near impossible. Knowing he was above average intelligence, to put it lightly, when people tried outsmarting him, it was always a humorous effort. No one bested Spider-Man.

This time, they were.

Following that night of your monstrous bickering, you hadn’t seen or heard from Peter in over a week. Honestly, you weren’t making much of an effort yourself. Having no interest in being around him when he was in a head space like this. Knowing that there really was no way to help him if he presented nothing to you.

Peter on the other hand was not okay with you going dark on him. Despite knowing that the clock was dwindling down before their next attack, it was the first time in weeks you had been at the forefront of his mind. The little voice in the back of his head was telling him he needed to smooth this over with you or he would regret it.

Which is why he was climbing into your living room window with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, opting to take the night off even though it could be a crucial turning point. He ended up convincing himself it would be alright because if he didn’t have a direction to go in an hour before arriving at your apartment, then hunting tonight was pointless.

He didn’t have a direction.

Even though you hadn’t spoken to Peter, your thoughts were consumed by him as well. What was the bit of information he wasn’t giving you? Was there even anything he was leaving out? There could be the slim possibility he had actually divulged all he knew to you. But you knew better than that. Peter was hiding something, you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

The notes.

Discovered next to each of the victims he had come across. Given he was the only individual to find them and when he tried bringing it to the attention of the police, they had shrugged him off. They were trying to get to him.

Sheets of white printer paper, the typical horror movie fashion of assembly. Varying letters from magazines, newspapers, old letters, all taped and pasted on the paper in a note. Each one was different, but told in a fashion of a word problem. Some were like riddles.

Either way, with each new victim that appeared, so did a new note. It was one of the things he dreaded the most. Seeing what possibly innocent person had been selected in order to deliver the paper to him. His stomach turned just at the thought of it.

Tonight was not for that, though. Instead he chose to bury it in the back of his brain and spend some much needed time with you. So why weren’t you home?

If there was one thing Peter knew and loved about you was that you were a schedule person. Totally type-a, your day planned to perfection and given it was just after six o’clock that evening, you should’ve been in the kitchen plating your dinner.

Except, there was no you in the kitchen, there was no music or television playing in the background, it looked as though nothing had been touched all day. Until he stepped further into the kitchen.

When his eyes darted over to the corner of your counter, partly covered by your fridge, he froze. There it sat. An uneaten bowl of cereal. The milk on the counter next to it, the cereal box still opened and there.

As he approached it, observing the contents, you hadn’t even gotten a spoon out yet. It was filled to the brim, more so than you would’ve liked, but given it hadn’t been touched some of the cereal had inflated from the milk.

“Bug?” His voice, calm and collected echoed out into the quiet flat. Finally prying his eyes away from the alarming sight he had just seen, he was stumped. Everything else in the living room and kitchen was exactly as it should have been.

Maybe you were running late this morning and didn’t realize until after you had made your breakfast. Yes, of course! That’s exactly what it was.

Peeking into your bedroom, his heart rate decreased, a sense of relief and ease settling over him at the entirely bogus reasoning he had used to calm himself down. Until the most unusual sight of all was spotted.

Your phone sitting soundly on your nightstand, still connected to the charger. His hand rubbed at his closed eyes, trying to will his breathing to return to a normal rate. Tapping the screen, it lit up with dozens of texts. Some from Peter, some from coworkers, a few missed calls from work.

Never would you ever forget your phone. Never would you ever not put the cereal back in its place. Something was wrong.

His trembling hands removed his own phone from his pocket, before entirely losing any semblance of sanity, he dialed your boss’s number. It picked up on the third ring and Peter did his best to sound as normal as he could.

“Hey, Guy! It’s Peter Parker,” he was instantly cut off by his chipper voice on the other end. “Peter! How the heck are you?” He sighed, a shaky laugh escaping him. “Great, great. I just have a quick question for you,” as Peter asked if you had made it into work today, Guy responded fast.

“No, actually she didn’t today or yesterday. Didn’t even call. It’s not like her at all. I think a few of her team members tried texting her and didn’t hear from her either. Everything okay?” It was the worst thing he could have been told at that moment.

Clearing his throat, he tried to remain calm. “Mhm, yeah, yes. She’s just, uh, very sick. It might be a few days before she’s well enough to get back to the office. I didn’t call earlier because I wasn’t sure if she had or not.”

Guy’s laugh of relief was palpable. “Whew, thank goodness! Okay, well tell her to rest up and we’ll see her when she’s all better.” Thanking him and quickly ending the call, Peter tore your apartment upside down.

Any clues he could think of, any sign of forced entry, anything at all. But there was nothing. It was all still in the pristine condition it had been left in. Not a single thing out of the ordinary despite the two big red flags. Even going through every app on your phone, just in case, but it was fruitless.

Alarm bells were chiming in his head, he knew something was wrong. He knew you were in some sort of danger. He collapsed on your couch, wracking his brain for anything that could have given him something to work with.

Then he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye. A small piece of white paper stuck to the tongue of a running shoe you never wore. Turned on its side. He couldn’t remember if he had knocked it over during his rushed search of your apartment, but as he picked it up, his blood turned to ice.

Taped to the shoe were the letters he dreaded seeing. Had been haunting him in his sleep for weeks. When he could sleep that was. Unlike the others, it was almost a clue as to where to go next. His eyes quickly saw the time and knew they were going to strike again soon. Far too soon.

One step forward, three steps back, find her quick before she’s the next attack

It was an anger unlike anything he had ever felt before. Not when his parents had died, not when uncle Ben died, it was so overpowering, Peter truly didn’t know how to control it. Darting out of your window, knowing he was on limited time, he began his search.

A near pointless search. A pill that was hard to swallow. Knowing the chances of actually finding you were so slim. He had the list in the back of his mind, places he had scouted previously that he knew they had used at one point or another.

That was the only thing he could think to do. Which is exactly what he did. Searching one by one individually, spending no more than thirty seconds to one minute at each location before going down the list. Did he destroy some of those places during his searches? Absolutely.

He only grew angrier with each location he arrived at that you weren’t in. His hope was running out. Knowing he was at the last two possible places you could be at that he knew about. It was an abandoned warehouse by the river. The first place he had ever tracked them to, but it was far too late when he made his discovery. They had been out of there for over a week by the time he found it.

They were always just a few steps ahead of him and it drove him mad. His masked face searched the premises from what he could see. Through one of the partly shattered windows, there appeared to be a figure on the far end of the building.

A single light shining on them, their back facing where Peter stood. Sitting in a chair, only a wisp of a shadow, no identifying features to be made out. Assuming it was going to be a fight he was about to step into, Peter broke the remainder of the window and launched himself in.

Eerily silent. No noise in the entire building apart from the howling wind outside. It was beginning to become mid-fall in the city and it was always your favorite time of year. No one was enjoying the crisp autumn air that evening.

It was unbearably stuffy in there. No fresh air had swept through the place in years. The stale scents made that abundantly clear. Peter hesitantly approached the figure, the lighting just so he couldn’t make anything out until only a few hundred yards away.

The minute he saw the tied hands behind the back of the chair, his heart soared. “Bu-bug!” His voice shouted, relief flowing off of him in waves, but they came crashing down just as fast.

He wasn’t even sure if it was you. Incredibly deformed from obvious beatings, your face was swollen, bruised, and bloody like he had never seen before. The zip tie around your wrists had cut into the skin, pieces of flesh hanging from it.

As he looked down, the sticky floor was a deep crimson, continuing to pool from your countless open wounds. No shoes were on your feet, they too were cut and dangling from your seated position, totally limp.

He wasn’t entirely sure what was in your mouth as a makeshift gag, but whatever it was had been there so long, your skin was raw and bruised around it. It was the first thing he removed and as he did, your chipped teeth entered his view.

A blanket was draped over you that was covered in things Peter did not even want to begin to imagine. It was the next thing he went to remove, but he halted the moment it was off your body.

There, stapled to your bare chest, was his next note. The same haunting letters, covered in either your own or someone else’s blood. Based on the missing fingernails, he assumed it was a fight you had given which made him silently pray it was someone else’s, yours already spilled too much.

It took him a second longer than he realized to see that your toes were mainly all facing the wrong way. Your arms bruised from newly broken bones, legs in the same condition.

His trembling voice was the first thing you heard as he cut the tie from your hands, whimpers and choked cries trying to escape your hoarse throat. Immediately going limp, Peter caught you. Your body was convulsing in ways he had never seen, unable to open your eyes and see that Peter had found you.

His tears made heavy tracts on his sweat riddled skin. His gloved hands smoothed over the inflamed sections of your face. “I’m-I’m here bug, I got you. I found you, baby. I got you, okay? It’s okay now, baby.” Despite knowing how difficult and incredibly painful his next actions were going to be, he had to get you out of there.

Medical attention was the only way you were going to be able to survive. That meant Peter was going to have to carry you to the hospital. No possibility of emergency services being able to get to you before it was too late.

He was right. Had he waited for emergency services you would have died. You had been in the hospital for three weeks now. Finally in a state where you were fully conscious, despite the pain that never subsided, you were doing better than everyone thought.

It was unclear how long you had been in their “care” before Peter had found you. Based on the little memory you had from the snatching, it was assumed you had been with them for at least forty-eight hours, possibly more.

Peter hadn’t left your side since. Growing tired of hearing the nurses and doctors praise Spider-Man for having found you and saving you when he did. Hardly. He had hardly saved you.

In fact, this was his fault. It was the conclusion he had made. His careless and reckless behaviors had led them straight to you. He hadn’t spoken to you in a week and look what they had done. They thought they had killed you. There hadn’t been another attack yet. It meant nothing though.

No, the note left for him said otherwise. You’ve made it three steps back, how long until the grand final act?

Peter was frightening you. Since you had been awake and aware of what was happening, he had hardly spoken to you. The deep purple bags under his eyes were only growing worse, skin a sickly gray you had never witnessed in a human before, face hollowing out from lack of rest and food.

All he did was write in his notebook.

Curled up in a chair, he stared at the pages for hours on end. Occasionally writing and scribbling in it. His eyes never rested, constantly darting around the pages. It had been weeks of this. Total silence from him, not sure how to talk to him when he was like…this.

It was another late night in the hospital, having drifted in and out of painful sleep all day. Based on the lack of staff and visitors present, you assumed it was the middle of the night. The hospital floor just outside your door was quiet. An easy night for the staff, you thought.

Trying to figure out how to eat a pudding cup, one of the only things you could keep down, was your current task at hand. The tv playing with hardly any sound, it being the only main light in there, Peter silently re-reading whatever was in that book. That was the current mood of your room.

Eating was difficult. Only having three working fingers on your non-dominant hand, luckily one being your thumb, you struggled to pick up the spoon, also knowing you couldn’t move your arm to bring the spoon to you or bend over to get closer to consume anything. Just trying to move to secure the spoon in your mangled fingers had you on the verge of tears, losing your breath along the way.

You could do nothing without help. Not wanting to ask Peter for any assistance because of how poor his mood was. That was where you two currently sat with one another. Scared to speak to him more than absolutely necessary. Hardly speaking since being here.

His eyes briefly glanced at you before realizing what you were trying to do, throwing his notebook onto the side table. “Hey, hey, hey! What are you even trying to do, bug?” His voice was soft, a slight laugh in his voice, exhaustion evident with each word spoken. Taking the spoon from your hand, he pulled his chair closer to the bed, beginning to bring it to your lips.

It was silent until your eyes darted back at the book, deciding to take a leap. “Whatcha writing?” Your cracked, gravelly, and weak voice echoed through the silent room.

It made him want to revert to a blind rage attack. Your voice that was usually so full of life and excitement. Strong and loud that could command an entire room with only a few words. Now, he could hardly hear you, understand you, look at you. Jaw clenching at the question, his teeth grinded together.

When he closed his eyes, he saw visions of you beaten in that warehouse, left for dead. The immense pain you had been suffering through ever since then. Scars that would never fade, both physically and mentally meant he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Not until he found them.

Your face was doing better, still black and blue, but healing. Able to open your eyes and look at him despite the popped blood vessels. Bandages littered every inch of your skin, wrists tightly wrapped with special medicine for the skin loss.

“Notes,” he murmured, eyes darkening as you asked your question, obviously not wanting to speak about it more. Changing the topic as your pudding came to an end, his hand brushed through your hair, knuckles lightly brushing against your cheek. “What do you need? Anything?”

It was silly. A simple question to see if you really did need anything. It didn’t stop the tears from hurriedly falling down your face. “Yo-you, Peter. I need you. I don’t know where you’ve been, but it hasn’t been here with me. I feel like I’m healing on my own. Like you’re not even here. You sit in that chair, staring at that notebook for days on end. You’ve hardly looked at me, spoken to me, listened to me. Please, just come back to me. Please, Pete.” It was borderline begging, but months of pent up frustration had broken the dam.

Peter’s heart continued to crack with each additional word you said. Realization of what he was doing to you, slamming into him all at once. He nodded, chin resting on one of the side rails, sniffling himself. “I’m here, bug. Whatever you need. I’m so sorry.”

Your only non-fully broken hand you extended towards him, wincing in pain from the movement. Scared to touch you, he only placed your hand back down, removing the side rail to get as close as possible to you.

The rest of the night, you two sat chatting ,watching whatever movies you wanted. It was a glimpse at the man you had seemingly lost all those months ago. Peter was back.

You were released from the hospital just shy of a week later. Peter’s plan to nurse you back to health was his moving in with you. While it was just supposed to be while you recovered, you two ended up enjoying it so much, he was now permanently living there.

It felt like your relationship was shooting by leaps and bounds, spending time together like you had never experienced before. Him being there when you went to bed at night and his face being the first thing you spotted when your eyes opened was a treat you didn’t know you needed.

Feeling content, cared for, respected, and loved like never before. Peter admitted, with your confession to him in the hospital about how distant he had become, tore him apart. He had never seen you moved to tears in such a way, especially over him.

He didn’t realize how deep he had been sucked in until that moment. From then on, Peter swore to keep his other persona on the sidelines for a bit whilst you healed and needed him. Did that mean he was going to stop being Spider-Man in the meantime?

Of course not. It meant that side of him was reserved for the span of time from when you fell asleep to about forty minutes before you would wake up in the morning. Absolutely clueless as to the fact that he had been out all night.

Hunting. Stalking. Tracking.

It was the first night in which you didn’t need him to help lay you down in bed. Peter knew his sleep schedule was already fucked, each time his eyes would drift shut all he could see was you strapped to that chair, nearing death.

And the fact that he hadn’t caught them.

Keeping him up at night, when he could sleep it was plagued by nightmares. Peter knew that there was no opportunity for him to rest while these scumbags were still wandering the streets, looking for another prey to select for their sick games.

Which is why he was doing this without you knowing. Not wanting to worry you and cause you further stress. No, Peter could do this. Would do this. Had to do this. He had made amazing moves. Truly spectacular given the place he had been stuck in before.

They had no idea he had found them, watched their every move, plotted what he was going to do to them. Honestly, when he first spotted one of the three he had discovered had been involved in your…incident, it took every ounce of strength he had to not murder the man right then.

He had to remind himself that all he had to do was provide some patience and the reward would be unlike anything he imagined. And imagine he did.

It was what plagued his thoughts every single day as he watched you hobble around such short distances that only offered pain and tiredness from. His eyes would drift over your still bruised skin as he helped you bathe and it was like witnessing it all over again.

Your hand would tip his chin up, forcing him to lock eyes with you. It was nearly impossible to not see the sadness and hurt in his eyes. Disappointed in himself for letting this happen to you. It didn’t matter because what had happened was now in the past and all you were looking forward to was healing.

The emotional and traumatic scars left on you were not easy to mask. Perhaps that was another reason why Peter was so furious as well. If he moved too quickly behind you, you jumped and a small scream would follow. Trembling for upwards of an hour before settling down. Peter would have to tell you small things to gather your thoughts.

Feel my hand? I`m right here, bug. Here, I want you to use the remote and put on whatever you want. You feel the couch under you? You’re home, baby. You’re safe.

If it weren’t for Peter, you weren’t sure what you would do. He was your rock, your other half, offering reason for unreasonable thoughts. He was your Peter.

The rain was pattering against the window, a sort of white noise you weren’t expecting tonight, but were grateful for it nonetheless. It helped you drift off to a dreamless sleep, exhaustion from trying to do some basic things today taking too much out of you.

Peter was already out of the house before he knew you were soundly asleep. He couldn’t risk being late. Tonight was the night.

Weeks of following them, understanding and breaking their odd patterns, he watched as they went according to plan perfectly. A construction sight for a new high rise. This was their new rendezvous sight for the next attack.

There wouldn’t be another attack.

Counting silently in his head, as he saw a flicker of a small light near the top floor, his count was perfect. They entered exactly on schedule. Crawling down the side of the building and using the thunderstorm to his advantage, he shattered a window a few floors up.

There was no other way that he knew of other than how they had entered and that was far too risky as they had all other doors blocked. As he slowly descended the staircase to scout the floor and determine which room they were in, his hair stood on end as a voice hit his ear.

Three of them. All there. The monsters who were behind your attack. Simply waiting for him.

Except, they didn’t know they were waiting for him. No, tonight was a setup night. Preparation for the coming days of their next plan. Peter had determined fairly early on it was not going to be their final act like they had claimed.

The door was kept slightly ajar with a cinder block, no handles on them yet meaning if it closed, there was no way out for them. Which was their plan for their next victim. Leave the poor soul trapped here with no means of getting out alive.

Peter’s skin was crawling, every instinct shouting at him to just do it. End them now. It would be so easy. He shook off those thoughts, knowing his plan was the correct one.

He dropped to the floor behind them, one of them catching him out of the corner of their eye, a smirk taking over his face. “Spidey boy finally found us, boss.” The thick accent made him hard to understand. Peter kept silent. Very silent.

The other two turned to face him, matching looks on their hideous faces. “How’s your girl? You otta be more careful next time or she could get seriously hurt.” A chuckle escaped them. Peter still didn’t move, watching them from a few paces away.

Quickly deciding they weren’t a fan of the silent treatment, the largest man in the center who Peter knew to be their ringleader drew his gun. In the blink of an eye, web flew towards the gunman, pinning the weapon to the wall behind him.

“Come on now, you didn’t think I knew what you have on you? Just like how I know tweedledee over here is about to throw a knife at me,” Peter ducked out of the way as the blade hurdled towards him. “Now how about we all play nice and introduce ourselves?”

An over exaggerated sigh escaped Peter’s lips as the three men darted towards him, but he acted quickly, webbing them to the surrounding walls, letting one approach him to fight him. “Guess not. Okay, then. I guess I’ll be the one making the rules tonight then.”

Peter grabbed the three chairs from one of the corners of the room before leisurely strolling towards the door and pushing the cinder block from the opening. He whistled a made up tune as he removed them one by one, webbing them to the seats to the point of them not being able to move an inch.

“You know, it’s such a shame sometimes that I wear this mask because I would love you guys to see how big of a smile I have right now. Scouts honor, I am overjoyed that we finally get to do this!” He took his own seat directly across from them.

His head scanned them before pointing at the one on the right. “Let’s start with you bumblebee. What’s your name?” His black and yellow striped shirt was what appointed him his nickname. “You think we’re going to talk? I have nothing to say.”

Peter nodded at his words before looking at the other two. “Same goes for you two then, I assume?” When they didn’t respond, instead only seeing spit hurl towards him, he dropped his head, shaking it. “Such a shame. Alright, last chance. Just give me a name.”

Silence.

A shrug. “It brings me no joy to resort to this, fellas. I’m truly not a violent person. I pride myself on being as gentle as I can be. " He began pacing around, his chair discarded behind him now. “Igor, Viktor, Sasha.” He pointed at each of them individually as he divulged their names.

He gave himself a small satisfactory pump into the air at his success. He could tell he was correct by the little one on the lefts eyes growing slightly wider. It was just the start. As Peter continued on, he got tiny tidbits of information. Only when he presented to them what he knew. Which at this point was everything.

Names, date of births, addresses, spouses, children, education records, dental records, you name it, Peter had it. It still wasn’t enough to get them talking like how he wanted. Instead, Peter fell into the second part of his plan earlier than he had expected.

With seven toes, five fingers, three teeth, many beatings, and an ear, they were beginning to squeal. The leader, Igor, was suspended from the ceiling by his bound hands submerged in webbing. He was entirely nude, body cut up in ways that had blood spilling from him ferociously.

Viktor was webbed entirely to the floor, his entire body covered in fluid despite only one singular nostril. He was the one who cracked first which Peter expected after his reaction to his grandmothers home address in his tiny village in his home country. It was quickly discovered that he was mainly an action man, simply doing what he was told, not a mastermind of any sort.

The other one, Sasha, was who most of the beatings had gone towards once Viktor had divulged it was him who had mainly been the culprit in your beating. Webbed to the wall with no chance of escape, Peter mimicked all the injuries you had sustained on him and then some. Just missing a few fingers and toes now as well.

As the night drew to a close, Peter admired the work he had done. He wiped his gloved hands in a motion to signify he was wrapping up. They were hardly conscious enough at this point to understand what was happening to them. To understand the fate they had drawn themselves to.

There was just one final thing he needed to do. Grabbing the needle and thread he brought with him for tonight and tonight only, he walked slowly towards the nude man. “Did you know that I sew all of my suits? Crazy right! How in the world does he have the time to do this, you might ask. It’s a valid question, but you know what, if I took it to lets say a seamstress, I would be unbelievably broke. Not to mention, how does one drop off the Spider-Man suit without drawing suspicion. First world problems, am I right?” 

The man didn’t respond, but as Peter pierced the needle into his skin, his yelp rang in Peter’s ears. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t be moving around now, you’ll make my stitches go all out of wack here.” Peter took his time, but as he finished he admired the handy work.

Sewn into the man chest was a letter of his own. Crafted just for them. A message curated specifically for their enjoyment.

“How time flies, boys. Suns coming up here shortly. Time for me to be heading out.” He smashed a window, ready to crawl out, but he remembered one final thing he needed to do. Walking back over to Igor, he pulled his head back by the hair on his scalp, making him look into the bug eyed mask.

The whimper that fell from the grown man was laughable to Peter. “If you or your dogs come near anyone I love again, our next visit will not be as enjoyable as this one. If you get out of here, I mean.” Tears fell from the corner of his eyes as Peter released his head to fall back into its resting position.

“See you later, guys! Make better choices!” He called out behind himself as he crawled out the window, webbing it shut behind him before making his way home to you.

It was the first time in months that Peter felt like he could breathe. Taking in the fresh morning air, just minutes before the sun began to peak on the horizon, signaling the arrival of a new day. His lungs expanded with the deep breath of air, wanting to sob at the weight removed from his shoulders.

As he made his way back into the apartment, he spotted you in bed. Still curled up in the comforter, sound asleep, none the wiser of his whereabouts the night before. The brusing getting less and less noticeable by the day.

When he crawled into bed next to you, he refused to fall asleep, not tired in the least. No, instead as the sun began to shine through the curtains, he watched you. Watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath, grateful you were taking those breaths.

Because Peter knew that it wasn’t long ago where those breaths weren’t guaranteed. Now, he counted each one, to make sure you were okay. Of course you were okay now. Peter just needed to make sure.

It wasn’t too long after when you began stirring, eyes blinking open to see his golden eyes staring down at you with the softest gaze Peter had ever had. “Morning,” you mumbled, he whispered it back to you.

“You sleep okay?” He asked, to which you nodded, asking him the same. “Of course I did.” You smiled, getting up and ready to start your day.

You just needed to pretended you didn’t see the bruises adorning his knuckles. “What’s for breakfast?”

Today's Fic Rec is the absolutely cannot-stop-reading story by @webslingingslasher titled UNI. You've got to read it to believe it!

This ongoing story (link below) from the spider-man fandom features Frat!Peter aka Peter Parker and if you haven't heard of it, where have you been because it is the talk of campus and that was before the first frat party!

The university setting backdrop works perfectly for the entire cast of characters, each one unique, and Trouble aka You/Reader, the most unique of all.

The story is rolling out a chapter at a time, and it's already got humor, suspense, flirting, friendships, with a whole lot more to come. If you haven't given it a read, do so! Remember to REBLOG the story if you enjoy it so others can read it too! Reblogs are the fuel that keeps Tumblr content going!

Uni (master page link)

Caught In His Own Web

What's a superhero to do when he gets caught in a web of his own making? Then when it's torn asunder when his deceit is discovered, how does he make it right with you while trying to keep you and the city safe from a menacing creature? Some things you just cannot mend with a stitch or two!

That's the dilemma Peter Parker faces as he swings back and forth between extra intelligent student who you find annoyingly brilliant and Spider-man, who saves you, befriends you, and listens as you pour out your heart in the wee hours of the morning.

Today's Fic Rec is @jamespottersdaisy 's Dulcet; a multi-part story that is captivating from the start. Featuring a smart Lead, who fights to stay at the top of the class, Peter is likewise battling to figure out how to win You over. As if that wasn't keeping him busy enough, he's got a mystery to solve because the city is in danger.

The story has four parts thus far with at least one more to come so check it out. It's a good read!

Remember to REBLOG the stories you enjoy, and if you like the Spider-man fandom, I think you'll enjoy this one. Reblog it and share it so others can enjoy it too!

Dulcet (Part One)

Other parts on the the author's masterlist.

Had a long day? Is the real world hassling you? Need a little comfort reading? Today's Fic Rec is for an adorable short love story by writer @forever-rogue called As It Goes (link below).

Upon meeting Spider-man one evening, you find that pinky-promises can lead to a promising future and it's one that includes Peter Parker. Much adorableness and fluffy goodness from this short (~4K) fic that I enjoyed. Read it and see for yourself!

Remember if you read and enjoy something to REBLOG and share the content with others so they can enjoy it too! Reblogs are the fuel that keep Tumblr going!

As It Goes

Positivity Night Shout Out

This is for @withahappyrefrain 's Positivity Night. What a great idea! I hope I did this correctly Abby.

I follow a number of creators and some of them even follow me back! It's been a great experience and so here is some appreciation and good vibes...thanks Abby for doing this!

In no particular order and some with a lil blurb lagniappe as I've gotten to know them. This is long but ya know, I'm not at the Oscars on a time limit so read it or keep scrolling past. Your choice.

@blooming-violets aka @eatbrainsfordinner gave me some great advice when I first joined on how not to get blocked due to blog appearance and has an amazing library of fics that sent me down a rabbit hole. Plus in possession of a side-holding you will fall out of your chair sense of humor. Laughter can give us hope and I know that some of her comment/replies just put me in a better frame of mind.

@liz-allyn whose mob!peter fic Sugar and Vice (all of her work really) just blows me away. If you haven't got Honey, life just isn't sweet at all at all. All her content just radiates emotion. Depth. It's all there.

@webslingingslasher such a talent and so very very kind to everyone. Am enthralled with nerd!peter/frat!peter. I have no clue where the late night sleepover energy comes from though. I am in awe.

@sincericida no one tops her blog for Andrew Garfield content. No one. I check it more frequently than I do the daily news. Could get lost for days with the top tier content. A real sweetheart, too. Always answers asks.

@luvablehand a winsome writer with great imagination. Absolutely love that there is an updated list of WIPs on the blog so I know what is coming.

@periprose Nice blogger and her Peter Parker is adorable. Completed chapter fic Florence is great.

@theradioactivespidergwen aka @she-likesorchids great writer across multiple fandoms and great wit. We share a love of various sandwiches, know that dressing is superior to stuffing, and think sweater weather is amazing. It's glorious.

@reidslovely haunting haunting writing that stays with me. Love our interactions when I have questions about a story/plot/character. Has been writing more mob!peter and I am a member of the mob!peter fan club for life.

@loveroftoomanyfandoms I came for the Peter Parker fics and somehow acquired a Matt Murdock on the hot guy keyfob. Personality shines through on her blog and is such a joy. ((HUGS)) Always love interacting and living vicariously through the 'where is Charlie this week' adventures. (Couple more months and he's going to be eating some mighty fine food in NOLA) Our food chats have been awesome and when food found it's way as the theme in a story, well I cannot say enough about how enjoyable that's been.

@p3mybeloved another great Spider-man fandom creator. Read on here and AO3.

@ficthots writes for the fandom that is number one in my heart (TASM) and LIghtning Bugs makes me cry but it's that good kind of tears.

@delicate-dorothea sweet sweet writing that is addictive to read. Really looking forward to continuing to read and follow.

@backtothefanfiction someone I just started following but wow, am currently enthralled with a multi chapter mob!peter fic (The Angel In The Garden Of Evil) that has blown me away. Been a lot of fun to follow the character arcs and the twists and turns. Love writing essays for this creator when I reblog because the back and forth has been wonderful and enriching. I know the longer series can be so hard to write and maintain but they are a feast when you can find them. I've had a front row seat and am looking forward to more works in the future.

@helloheyhihowdyheya Love her works. Reading Rose Thorn Blues right now, and if asked to pick a fave out of the masterlist of Spider-man fics I'm not sure I could because they're all my babies.

@thursdaygxrls so much imagination in her writing, love it and love all the fics. Am currently following two: Thin Ice and Infrunami.

@withahappyrefrain Abby, whose Peter Parker won me over from the get go and then wrote TGM fics that added more hot male characters to the keyfob. Perfect sense of humor, never afraid to call out haters, and you just glow with sunshine and flowers right when I need it most. Big hugs and a shout out.

Other bloggers reblogging content is how I ran across many of you listed above so readers and content creators: reblog whatever you enjoy because it's really what keeps Tumblr active and engaging. When I'm not writing, I'm enjoying what others create and the inspiration and encouragement and words you share is wonderful and thank you for the effort you put into what you do!

hi v!! if it's not much to ask, could I request a tasm peter fic where reader encourages him to wear his glasses more cause he looks soooo good in them 🥺 you can take this prompt wherever you want lol I just thought it'd be cute. totally fine if you can't/don't want to!! have a great day <33

glasses

tasm!peter x reader

warnings: fluff, head trauma, teasing (as per usual)

a/n: no one in this fic grabs glasses by the lens because i am not a monster

*

you’re humming to yourself as you walk through the door. bag hanging at your side, feet aching from the walk home.

and your neck hurts a bit. tiny pin pricks of pain trailing up your skin like an uncomfortable reminder that you’re still human. and your stomach is grumbling from the lunch you made, and you can feel your head grinning maliciously, the beginnings of an ache coming on.

but you’re home. and it is a welcome enough reminder when you see peters shoes by the door. his bag hung up against the door, camera strap hanging out the side.

a fresh smile warms your face, and even though you know peter can hear you—feel you—you tiptoe into the living room, sliding off your tennis shoes.

you peek around the corner, sneakily looking for a mop of hair and unnaturally tan skin. but he’s not on the couch.

you frown.

sneaking up to tackle peter might be your favorite part of the day.

“peter?” you call into the empty apartment. “hiding is against the rules.”

you walk into the kitchen, biding your time by stealing a couple of grapes and sipping on whatever coffee peter brought home. it’s cold, but sweet, like chocolate milk so you carry it with you.

but when you’re back he’s still not there.

you scowl, crossing your arms. “i am not playing hide-and-seek,” you say, into the abyss. the silence is teasing.

you sit on the couch, turning on the tv just to get back at him. look at how unbothered you are.

you sit there for probably three minutes. sipping on peters coffee, and tapping your fingers against your leg incessantly. of course he would do this. today.

you’re just about to say something to him again—where ever the bastard is—when something falls on your head.

you yelp and move back, staring at the glasses, now smudged, sitting on the couch like a taunt.

and finally you look up.

peters got his hand over his mouth, a smirk hiding behind those eyes. you glare back at him, biting your lip before you can yell at him.

“oops,” he says, dropping himself on one hand so he can fall on the floor next to you, rubbing the new bump on your head. “sorry, bug.”

your mouth is open and you’re staring at him—glowering—as his lip twitches with the effort not to laugh.

“glad you find yourself amusing,” you snap, but your own laugh sneaks up on you before you can stop it.

he holds his hands up in defense. “all you had to do was look up.”

“oh yeah,” you nod vigorously, accidentally elbowing him in the stomach. “my bad for not checking for you on the ceiling.”

“it was in self defense!” peter pleads, sitting down next to you. his eyes are evil. “i was trying to avoid being attacked!”

“so you attack me instead?”

“they fell,” he emphasizes, sliding his glasses back on. “i said sorry.”

“you’re not forgiven.” you turn away from him, laying back on the couch.

“c’mon, baby.”

you pout.

“it was an accident. y’know id never hurt you on purpose. i cant say the same for some people in this house…” he adds on, smiling at you innocently. he ruffles your hair. “i missed you.”

finally you meet his eyes. completely adoring and somewhat irritating. you make a face and groan. “ugh,” you say, shielding yourself from him. “stop that.”

“what?”

you push him away. “take those off.”

peter frowns, trying to look at his glasses, crossed eyes and unserious. “what? why?”

“you cant look cute when i’m trying to be mad at you,” you say to him, reaching for the glasses, “it isn’t fair.”

peter leans back, giggling mischievously. he pushes your hands away. “i didn’t realize you liked my glasses.”

you pause and blink at him, glaring. “everyone likes a hot nerd.”

“so you think i’m hot,” peter drawls.

“you’re literally my boyfriend. we’ve had this discussion.”

peter leans towards you, a smirk playing on his lips. his cheek keeps twitching and it’s getting hard not to laugh at him and his high eyebrows. “i don’t remember,” peter whispers, “you should remind me.”

you poke his forehead, pushing him and his self righteousness away. “why are you even wearing those? you don’t need them.”

“i think my eyes are going bad again.”

his head twitches, and you watch his completely warm and inviting eyes as he lies. he’s staring at you, and you watch as his eyes dart down, then back up.

“oh no,” you coo, crawling towards him, a different feeling emerging in your chest. “let me see.”

you’re an inch away from his face. if you said another word your lips would brush his. you stare into his eyes, watching him flinch at the feeling of your hand on his chest. his breath hits your cupids brow.

“oh yeah,” you whisper, leaning forward, his lips hitting yours. then you pull back, frowning. “you’re going blind,” you say, “there’s nothing to be done.”

“is that the doctors professional opinion?” peter mumbles, swallowing.

“you won’t be needing these anyway,” you say to him, smiling viciously, and stealing them off of his face.

then you push away from him, moving to the opposite end of the couch.

peter clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. there is a tense moment where you both avoid each others eyes.

“is this payback?” peter asks.

“not sure what you mean, baby.”

“my glasses hit you on the head so you hold them captive?”

you smile, wiping a smudge on the lens with your shirt. “don’t worry, we’re just getting acquainted.” and then you put them on, grinning at peter.

“so you can wear them but i can’t?”

“if you want them back…” you push them down your nose, looking at peter through your eyebrows. “i guess you’ll have to come and take them.”

peter snorts and stands up, taking his time walking towards you. his face is dark, his eyes have fallen down your trap, and you don’t plan to let him go any time soon.

as he takes another step towards you, you can feel it. that tension, the magnetic pull between the two of you. and you know that peter would stick to the ceiling just to get away from it. to avoid the undeniable chemistry between the two of you.

and you know that you would jump up and cling on to him.

when peter is one step in front of you, you pout innocently. “did you want something?”

peters movements are undetectable as he throws the glasses off of your face, leaning down over you, all of him imposing and strong and completely right as his hands wrap around your face, his lips just millimeters from yours.

it takes genuine restraint to keep yourself from leaning forward. and you can tell that peter is feeling the same thing.

“am i forgiven?” he asks, voice low and blurred by your want to leave marks on every inch of his skin.

“just kiss me,” you hiss, and the words are nothing but a pencil scribble down the page before peter is on you, and you are on him.

your hands pull on his hair, and you force him to smother you, his chest leaning against yours, his arms falling as you make him let go.

you’d gladly let peter crush you forever, if only he would string your skin together like fabric.

he moans when you scratch at his scalp, and bites at your lip when you giggle in response.

it is no slow kiss, with no more teasing.

you’ve both reached the end of this cliff, and if he falls, you’re going right with him.

it is breathless and rough, and you don’t mind at all as peters hand around your waist pulls you even closer. as his lips attack yours, and his breath contaminates your own.

your hand moves, going to the neck of his shirt and pulling. then around his shoulders, pleading.

peter laughs against you. he moves back, just so he can whisper, “i’ll start wearing my glasses more often if this is the consequence.”

“shut up,” you lean up to him, using his skin for leverage.

his smile is childish and it melts into you.

you breathe against him, unable to keep your own smile back. teeth clash, but neither of you mine or pause.

until peter breathes too harshly, too recklessly. he pulls back, laughing at your face, at your puffy lips and bewitched eyes. “bedroom?” he asks.

you smile back at him, leaning over to grab the glasses he threw beside you, and sliding them on his face. “those stay on,” you tell him.

his laugh echoes as he carries you down the hallway.

*

You're welcome...and it's...it's going to end next week? Pass me the tissues because it's going to be bittersweet to see it end. I hope you continue to write. Your style and pace were captivating in this story.

This Friday Fic Rec is one for those of you who like to....linger...over a story kinda like the lingering looks those big brown doe eyes above are giving you. A multi chapter story featuring mob!peter parker and an OC with a twist. Love and loss and learning how to communicate are not easy things, but with a longer story, there's time for everyone to figure it out...and the best part is the story still continues. Read @backtothefanfiction 's The Angel In The Garden Of Evil as it joins some of the other fantastic mob!peter fics currently in the fanfic library.

The Angel In The Garden Of Evil (fic contains mature content)

Remember to reblog fics and works you enjoy! Reblogging (it's the little arrows next to the heart) is how Tumblr works to spread content to other users. Please reblog what you enjoy so others can enjoy it too!

Be good, Peter Parker

It's about a week until Halloween and today's Fic Rec is an adorable short story featuring Peter Parker and You/Reader as the parents of twins. Written by @blooming-violets, Trick-Or-Treat will melt your heart as sure as little Claire and Benjy do when they dress up for their first Halloween to trick-or-treat and visit Peter's Aunt May. A quick and delightful read and just enough sweetness to remind readers that life's moments are like a box of chocolates: you never know when you'll have another box, so eat and enjoy them while you can...am I right Benjy?!

Trick-or-Treat (very mild language, very much fluffy)

Remember to REBLOG the fanfics and content you enjoy on Tumblr so others can also enjoy and share it. Reblogs are the fuel that keep Tumblr going!

*The first two words of this promo are a reference to the film, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. If you know, you know.

Every time Peter Parker sees you, he suffers the agony and the ecstasy of loving you so much without being able to tell you so. Such is the dilemma for Peter in this marvelous one shot story, Orbitational Pull, by @irndad that is today's Fic Rec.

This charming story has a happy ending, though, and the entire piece flows from Peter's perspective like a love poem. If you haven't read it yet, I encourage you to do so!

Orbitational Pull

...and as a Two-fer, I also recommend @irndad 's story Out Of Focus, Eye To Eye; another Peter Parker piece that is equal parts haunting and lovely with its expressions of longing and love.

Out Of Focus

Remember to reblog the stories you enjoy so that others may enjoy them too! Reblogs are the fuel that keeps Tumblr running.

Today's Fic Rec comes from talented writer, @thursdaygxrls who has crafted a Peter Parker story, Thin Ice, that's a winner in more ways than one.

Original Character/Reader (can likely work either way) works for the campus newspaper and is asked to fill in for the regular sports reporter. Not an assignment she wants, especially when she is required to interview members of the winning ice hockey team, who've secured a spot in the championship tournament. The interview goes well despite the team captain, Peter Parker, and his gift for simultaneously annoying and beguiling her.

This ongoing series currently consists of three chapters with a fourth on the way, and just as the hockey team keeps winning, Peter keeps up his efforts to win over the Lead as she discovers that the game(s) he plays are exciting in more ways than one. She feels to let go of one's heart is as dangerous as treading on thin ice. Will she take the chance?

Read the story!

Thin Ice (Part One) More parts included on the writer's Masterlist

Remember if you enjoy reading content on Tumblr to REBLOG it to share the content so that others may enjoy it too! Reblogs are the fuel that keeps Tumblr going and growing!

Today's Fic Rec is for the 18+ crowd. Yes, you read that correctly 18+ means if you're a minor, this story isn't for you. But for readers who are of age here is a spicy Peter Parker story (and its sequel) by @fallensilencefics that may have you feeling some good vibrations.

After a tiresome day, You/Reader are ready to relax with a treat, and decide to go for it and ring up a sex phone chat line, little knowing that the sexy voice on the other end has a role to play in your life beyond the confines of titillating tech.

Equal parts steamy and scintillating, this short story and Peter Parker will charm the socks right off of you. Read it and find out what happens when you tell him what you want...

Say It (Mature Content, Minors DNI)

Say It...A Little Louder The Sequel to Say It (Mature Content, Minors DNI)

Remember to REBLOG the stories and content you enjoy so that others see it and can enjoy it too. Reblogs are the fuel that keep Tumblr going!

When faced with the realization that your walk through life may be a solitary one, it can be disheartening and lead to a lot of soul searching. But what if you discover that you have a soulmate after all? Such is the fate of Peter Parker and You/Reader in today's Fic Rec, Countdown, by @withahappyrefrain.

While you are searching for your soulmate, Peter Parker is actively trying to avoid see-sawing emotions once he's realized he, too, may not be alone. But to have a second chance at not only love but also loss is not something he is sure he can face. Not again. Not after Gwen.

Follow along as You search for your soulmate and Peter battles time avoiding his. You're both in the race for your lives. Who will win? Read and find out! It's a great story!

Countdown (Mild language, mention of death. Please respect that the story is on an 18+blog. Minors DNI)

Please remember to REBLOG the stories and content you enjoy on Tumblr. Reblogs are the fuel that keep Tumblr going and allow others to see and enjoy content too!

Oh that had ALL the feels right there. Well done. Love all of your Peter Parker stories.

Done| tasm!peter imagine

Warnings: angsty, fighting, break up

A/N: it’s been a little moment, I need to give my boy some love but I also just feel angsty so….

“PETER, LOOK AT ME!” You screamed at him from the kitchen doorway.

You’d been arguing for the last 10 minutes. You wish you could say this was something new, but this fight had been going on ever since you first met. Peter was in love with you, has always been in love with you, but would rather punish himself than go through what he did with Gwen again. But he could never stay away. He always came running back. Crawling back down into that web that he carefully constructed and built just to trap you and keep you there. But every time that web shook just a little, he’d get cold feet. Instead of staying and facing what came head on or fixing the string that broke, he runs, only to realise he can’t let you go- he needs you. And so he always comes back.

Tonight- tonight was a running night… and you’ve had enough.

He can’t look at you, won’t look at you because he knows he will break.

“I can’t do this again.” You say as you sigh, your hands rubbing away the tears streaking down your face as you turn into the kitchen. “I can’t,” you repeat, more for yourself to keep your conviction than for his benefit. “I can’t.”

You turn and notice the fresh flowers you’d put in a vase not 2 hours ago when he turned up for dinner. You saw them for what they truly were now, apology flowers. You didn’t want them. Before you could fully process the action you had picked up the glass, stormed back into the doorway between the kitchen and living room and thrown them at the wall, just above his head. His head swerved to the side out the way, but still he didn’t get up, he didn’t look at you, he didn’t say anything. He knew there was nothing he could say to make this any better and knew you just needed to get things out of your system.

“We’re done, Peter, okay? We’re done.” You reiterated as you picked up your keys off the counter and started making your way to the front door, you really needed some air before you burnt down the whole apartment with your rage. “Pack up all your shit. I want you gone by the time I come back.” You said, putting on your coat. “And leave your key on the coffee table.”

He just nodded. No final words, no more excuses or apologies. No goodbye. Just a nod of acknowledgment. Is that all you had become- is that all you would be the next time you ran into him.

You’d slammed the door and taken 5 steps down the hall when you froze. No- you realised. You weren’t done. But this fight was.

When you walked back into the apartment Peter was picking up the flowers off of the floor. He places the bunch down onto the coffee table and stuffs his hands into his pockets as you slowly walk towards him.

“I thought you said you were done.”

“I’m not done.” You say quietly, “but this, this is done.” You say to him. “This argument, is done. Peter I’m not Gwen. If I see you swinging towards danger, first thing I do is start running the other way. Why do you keep coming back?” You ask him. You’ve gone so soft, like talking to a toddler. He wants a fight, it’s easier if he has the fight. Then you can paint him as the bad guy and walk away. He can continue to punish himself for something that was never his fault, it was hers. And for him to keep taking that out on you, his anger, his grief, it was wrong. To keep taking it out on himself. It’s wrong.

He’s silent, so you continue, “I’m not your punching bag Peter, I’m your girlfriend- and I have been for 3 years now, whether you like to acknowledge that or not. Peter, look at me,” you ask again, reaching out for him, your hands wrapping around his wrists and pulling his hands from his pockets. “Peter, touch me.” You say softly, guiding his hands to your body. It’s a slow process, but he slowly moves them to the tops of your arms, finally finding a home on your cheeks when he finally looks at you. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere… and we both know neither are you…. This fight is done now. It’s time to move on. It’s time to let her go.”

You watch as his eyes soften, his own fight leaving him because he knows you’re right.

“You’ll never overcome fear of you keep running away.” You remind him. “You’re Spider-Man…” you say, leaving the sentence open for him to finish.

“And Spider-Man never runs away.” He concedes.

“Tell me it’s done. Tell me this fight is done.” You say one last time.

You feel his whole body sigh as he finally concedes, released that control, that power and just begins to float, to survive. “It’s done.” He agrees.

His arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your head as he holds you tight. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I know.” You coo. “I know.”

The last two months have been anything but pleasant. I could use some sweet seductive salvation in the form of this literary infusion. Directly into my veins, please. Can't wait.

No, for real. It’s coming this week.

tony stark: well, it’s really nice to meet you, spiderman.

spider-man: uh, it’s actually spider-man.

tony stark: oh, spider-man.

later, spider-man looking at the camera, the office style: bitch.

i might be in love with you.

pairing: tasm!peter x black!reader (mariah joy/mj)

warnings: nwh spoilers

content: tasm!peter realizes he is in love with mariah joy.

a/n: okay i heard this song by cynthia erivo called “i might be in love with you” and it made me want to write.

previous part is here.

divider by @firefly-graphics

He used to visit her grave every day. For hours, he'd sit perched underneath a giant, thousand year old tree until his body ached and his eyes grew weary. Each day until winter made its star-studded appearance, leaves and the pedals of her favorite flowers swirled around her grave, landing upon her name. That's how he knew she was with him, when those beautiful purple pedals made an appearance.

The visits slowly lessened. From every day to every other day, from every other day to every week, every month, and every few months. He couldn't identify whether it was growth or exhaustion that repelled him from her, but with new advances in his life, he hated to admit that he hadn't thought much of it.

Up until a day at the park with MJ and a new bunch of purple daisies sprouted from the dirt, dancing happily with the birds as the wind sang a happy tune. He found himself at the cemetery the very next day, a bunch of purple daisies in his hand and a mouthful of confessions.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited you in a few months," he said as he sat on a fresh patch of grass. "Shouldn't have left you lonely like that. Being alone sucks."

Silence.

"I, uh," Peter cleared his throat. "This is hard to admit, but I met someone, Gwen. She reminds me of you in some ways; her gentleness and kindness and eagerness to learn. She's not a scientist nor is she into solving complex equations, but she likes to read, a lot actually."

Silence.

"I found myself in another universe at one point where I met two other versions of myself. It was weird, I can't lie, but I've never had brothers before and I got to experience a sibling bond I'd never had before.

"A lot of traumatic experiences were relived, though. Electro and some other villains' from their universes. A lot of damage, heartache, and loss," Peter's swallowed painfully to manage the croak within his throat. "There's a young woman named MJ, Michelle Jones, and she fell off the side of a building. He couldn't get to her and she almost lost her life. But, I got to her before she wound up like...she wound up like you.

"It felt like some sort of redemption, that I had an opportunity to make it right, and I did. I saved her, Gwen." Peter let out a chuckle.

Silence.

Peter toyed with his shirt, the one gifted to him by MJ just a few weeks prior for his birthday. It was green, a great contrast to his brown eyes, and it quickly became his favorite article of clothing.

"I was told to learn to love again, Gwen. That it would come when I was ready or when the world sensed I was, and honestly, I never thought there'd be another woman after you. I'll never forget you, G, but I've realized it's time to move on. You'll always have a place in my heart, you always will, but MJ." Her name brought a smile to his face.

"She makes the world stop when she looks at me a-a-and I feel so free with her. She's my second chance love, at life. I think I might be in love with her. I don't know if it's too early to tell or if I'm not labeling my emotions right, but I do...I might be in love with her."

Silence.

A small bird flew and perched itself on the gravestone. Peter raised an eyebrow. Out of it's mouth fell two flowers; a purple daisy, and a yellow sunflower, MJ's favorite.

Peter blinked away the pooling tears in his eyes and prepared to stand to his feet. The wind whistled a beautiful song only he could decipher, "Tell her. Know I'm always here for you."

He made it to MJ's apartment just as the sun set over the horizon. He stopped at a florist's cart before dashing to her bohemian style home in the heart of the city. Peter knocked on the door three times before she peeled the door open with a smile on her face. She looked very relaxed and comfortable. Her favorite satin scarf around her head, her face free of any makeup, and a satin robe along her arms.

"Just in time--oh, those are pretty!"

"For you," he smiled bashfully. MJ took the bouquet of sunflowers from him and returned the smiled. "Thank you, honey. They're really pretty."

"The take out is on the coffee table and I was able to find all the Transformers movies for our marathon this weekend. Do you want to start chronologically or--"

She was silenced by the pressing of his lips against hers. MJ stumbled to reach back and drop the flowers upon the nearest flat surface. Small moans came from her as Peter continued to kiss her with an emotion she'd never known before.

Her body grew warm as his hands slipped underneath her shirt to massage her smooth skin. His name fell from her lips like a prayer when he moved to kiss along her neck, basking in the scent of shea butter and vanilla, a wonderful combination.

Peter moved back to her lips, nipping and biting until she was elongating her neck for more of him. "I love you," he said against her mouth. "so much."

MJ pulled away from him, her hands resting on his strong arms. She met his eyes, taking them in gently. They were so soft and warm like her favorite cookies. "Peter..."

"I went to visit Gwen today and...I don't know. I spent a lot of time reminiscing on what could've been and what I should've done in the past rather than accepting what it is and allowing it to strengthen me as a person.

"All of everything I experienced led me to you...I couldn't save her but you saved me, Mariah Joy. Nothing in the world can amount to the debt I owe you for that. All I know how to do is love you, if you'll let me."

MJ released a breathy laugh as a smile crept along her face. "I love you, Peter Parker...never forget that."

"Really?”

"Always.”

if i want to be sad all i gotta do is put a playlist Peter Parker no way home theme and imagine i'm one of the versions of spiderman (or better- spider-woman) who lost tasm! peter in her universe and then sees him again. that works a treat