Andrew Garfield X Reader - Tumblr Posts

being caught texting andrew during the oscars!!! (based on that image of andrew texting or whatever)

you smiled at your phone, your finger tapping fast as you texted andrew. a few feet away, andrew hid is phone under the table next to him, texting you, trying to hide the smile on his face.

the camera panned over andrew, showing him paying attention to his phone. a few seconds later, the camera panned near you, showing you, your fingers tapping on your phone, a bright smile on your face.

when you returned home, you laid in between andrew's thighs, your back leaning against his chest. his arms were wrapped around your waist as you scrolled through your phone. you moved to safari, going to the news about the oscars.

"oh hey look! it's us!" andrew exclaimed. you clicked on the article before realizing what it was about.

"they caught us." you giggled nervously, pressing your phone against your chest. andrew hummed, setting his head on your shoulder.

"they would've figured out anyways." he shrugged.

send me a andrew blurb/dialogue idea!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

summary: while expecting, peter can’t help but brag to every single person he sees that you’re carrying his own little ‘spider-baby’.

masterlist.

andrew!peter parker x fem!reader

peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, talk of pregnancy, pregnancy, hints of sex, just really cute

i thought of this and immediately knew this would be something andrew’s peter would do, so here we are <3

word count: 1K

don’t steal any of my work, thanks!

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𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 smoothing across the prominent bump of your belly, circling around waiting for his daughter to kick. You were sat on his lap, chest against your back and his head between your neck and shoulder; his soft, growing out hair tickled your jaw and your head relaxed back on his shoulder. Your hands were gripped loosely around his wrists, following his movement as they roamed aimlessly around the home your child currently lived.

“I can just tell she’s gunna be a daddy’s girl, you know?” He whispered into your ear, lips brushing against the shell and tingling your entire body. His lips kissed your jaw, feeling a smirk on his lips as his daughter reacted to his words and movement: kicking your belly and signalling that she was already trouble before she was even here.

You held back a smile, failing miserably. “Really? You don’t think she’ll prefer the person whose had her in my stomach for the past 6 months?” You raised your brows, curious on who will be the favoured parent (hint: it was you).

“No way,” He groaned into the skin between your neck and shoulder. “As soon as she finds out her dad is the friendly neighbourhood spiderman, I’ll be the favourite.”

You looked up at his curiously, eyebrow quirked upwards and a smirk painted on your face. “Yeah, totally.” You teased, watching his shake his head and giggling to himself; content with the family he was about to begin his life with, the perfect woman and the most beautiful baby on its way. He couldn’t think of anything better.

He listened to the noise of your heartbeat, the thumps loud with his spider sense. “You can’t tell everyone about this, you know?” He heard your voice. “What?” He questioned.

“The baby, I know it’s been 6 months but I’d rather not walk to work and see ‘Spider-Baby On The Way!’ printed on every magazine.” He smiled at you. “Poor kid isn’t even here yet, I’d rather her first appearance not to be in the tabloids.”

Peter stroked the stray hairs off your forehead, his heart bursting at your dedication to keep this a little family, already feeling pressure for carrying the Spider-Man’s baby girl.

“I promise, love. I won’t say a word.”

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“She’s 7 months along today!” Peter smiled down to the citizens of New York, their smiles up to the man dressed in the spider suit.

The girls squealed, in awe and cheeks a splash red. The men grinned, eyes glistening with happiness and a subtle wink of pride. “That’s adorable, man. See ya Spidey!” Two of the guys waved.

Peter jumped down from the street sign, waving his hands infront of the people and webbing a couple citizens passing by into the little group he had created to engage in the conversation. “Woah, woah, woah! Did you know that my wife thinks that our kid will have my spider powers?” He beamed from behind the mask.

The crowd gasped and awed, heads tilting and eyes doe. Peter nodded his head amongst the reactions, “Yep, yep. I’ll teach her the ropes, but my wife will definitely kick my ass because of it.”

Many people clapped as Peter playfully did a bow towards the crowd and bit his lip to contain his smile. He shrugged off the compliments and congratulations from his fans, loving the thought of everyone being so supporting of his new and upcoming family of three.

“Hope it’s all well, Spidey!” Peter felt like he was going to cry. “Tell your wife congrats!” He’s on the verge of tears. “Take the time of Spider-Man, look after your family!” Sobbing profusely behind the mask.

What a family you would be. The three of you, you. You’re at home, carrying his child with the spaghetti boiling in the pan, knowing damn well you are running your hands over the bump of your belly, pretending it’s his hands. You’re the perfect mother, soon-to-be mother actually. And him, the superhero with a child, the most beautiful child to ever exist and to have the most fulfilled life you can guarantee. You. Shit! You!

He was meant to be home an hour ago! Thanks a lot Spider-Man fans! I blame you completely for making me talk about my favourite thing to only forget about my favourite thing! Damn.

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𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒 cold the moment he fell through the window, sprinting to the shared bedroom so rip off his suit and walk in the front door to where you would assume he simply got caught up and didn’t hear what he was saying.

He kicked the door to the bedroom and pulled his mask off his face, yanking down his suit to his torso and trying to pull off his shoes, extremely ungraciously.

The light switching on in the room made his jump and land on the ceiling, head falling down to search for danger until it faced a phone screen.

Spider-Man brags about soon-to-be Spider-Baby with his longtime girlfriend, turned wife.

“You won’t tell anyone, huh?” He heard your voice from behind the glowing screen, holding it up for a while so he could read it upside down. Peter groaned and dropped onto the floor.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think before I spoke. Someone asked me about my future and I immediately thought of you and our child and before I knew it I was— wait a minute, are you laughing?”

He furrowed his brows when he heard your giggles and lip tugged between your teeth with a grin etched across you face. “Peter, I don’t care.” He relaxed his shoulders and fell into a hug with you, one of his hands resting against your belly.

You tilted your head up to bump foreheads with his, noses rubbing against each other as his was cold at the tip, your warm aura heating him up. He leaned to kiss your lips continually, whispering sweet nothings as he apologised still.

“There’s still no way I’m letting you teach our child the Spider-Man duties. Especially not the ropes.”

Peter laughed at you, knowing very much well that he would do it anyway. This was he chance to have a Spider-Baby, who would give up that chance?

this is awful but like anyways

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— SECRETS AND SKATEPARKS.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

summary: you have a sneaking suspicion about your best friend and will apparently go to any lengths to prove yourself right.

warnings: mentions of violence/bruises, kissing, basically just a bunch of pg13 fluff, friends to lovers au.

author’s note: very much enjoying the andrew garfield spiderman love recently (don’t know where you all were 9 years ago but that’s not my business) so here’s a fic for my favourite spidey! i don’t think i’ve written for marvel in over a year and my writing is kinda rusty, but enjoy nonetheless!! ♡

“I wonder what Spider-Man looks like,” you absentmindedly mumble, scribbling down the answer to the Calculus question you were working on.

This piques your best friend Peter’s interest and his gaze quickly shoots from his own homework to you. “What, why? Wh-why does that, uh, matter?”

“No, I’m just saying, y’know?” You shrug, not thinking anything of it until you catch his expression. His head is tilted in confusion and he resembles a lost puppy with curiosity painted plain as day on his face.

God, why does your best friend have to be so cute. Okay, maybe a slightly inappropriate thought to be having, but it’s not like you’re hurting anyone! Other than yourself, that is, by not having your feelings returned. Collateral damage.

“He’s, like, super strong right?” you ask, turning back to your homework. Mostly to avoid looking at Peter, but also because you aren’t quite as good at calculus as him. He hums in answer, prompting you to continue. “Which means he’s probably super ripped. And if he’s super ripped, he’s gotta be like…”

You trail off, thinking he gets where you’re going. But when you look at him again, his brows are furrowed and you can’t help chuckling. “Spider-Man is probably really hot.”

Peter chokes on air.

Keep reading

hiii!! i love your writing sm!! i was wondering if you could write something for tasm!peter. just something we’re him and the reader are very flirty but not dating. i love fics about flirty friends lol

— BEING FLIRTY BEST FRIENDS WITH PETER PARKER

ask and you shall receive, anon

so you and peter have been best friends since forever, right?

right

except that’s not that it looks like to most people

the two have you have always been really close and somewhere along the way, the banter became flirtatious

a lot of greetings that begin with “hey, sexy.”

mostly on your part

his replies are usually a little more sophisticated, while being just as flirty

and by sophisticated, I mean he’s too respectful to call you sexy, opting for words like “beautiful” and the occasional “gorgeous”

“how’s my pretty girl doing today?”

“you tell me”

peter obviously dials it down in front of aunt may, but you don’t

it’s fun to watch him squirm and blush and to see aunt may tease him

she also drops hints every time she sees you to finally get together already for the love of god

when you found out he was spiderman the first thing you say is

“I KNEW I recognised your ass in that spandex”

“is that really your first thought right now.”

lots of hand holding, especially once you find out he’s spiderman

you won’t admit it, but you get worried that one day he won’t be able to hold your hand anymore

he knows of course smug bastard that he is

lots of singing sk8er boi while he’s skating because you think it’s hilarious

“y/n if you don’t move your cute little butt out of the way I’m going to run you over with my board”

“you think my butt is LITTLE?”

“no, I think you have an amazing ass, but I will still run you over.”

tons of back hugs, mostly from peter since he’s one tall motherfucker and can rest his chin on top of your head easily

cuddling after you patch him up from spider-man incidents and hoping his superhuman spidey abilities can’t pick up on your heartbeat getting faster

they can

just like aunt may, youre getting impatient because when is this boy going to ask you out

seriously, he can face a giant lizard in the sewers but can’t ask you out?

it’s fine though, he’s just thinking of a way to do it properly

you have no idea, so you settle for the flirty banter and the hugs and being his best friend

he’s working on it

another world [1]

after your boyfriend, peter parker, is killed by the green goblin, you take on the mantel of spiderwoman. a few years later, you're suddenly shoved into a multi-versal war after being called to another universe to help a (smaller) version of peter. a familiar face leaves you shaken.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x reader

CONTENT: NO WAY HOME SPOILERS!!!!!, mentions of suicide, angst angst angst angst, may parker deserves so much better and i apologize for putting her through this

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

──────────────────────

──────────────────────

Here lies Peter Parker. Beloved son.

We shall meet again.

[Y/N] stands over his grave. There's a chill in the air, autumn has finally taken New York. She shivers, her coat a few sizes too big, and two hands make their way to her lapel to tuck the girl in tighter. May Parker let's out a sigh.

"We've got to get you a thicker coat," May says. There's a tired look in her eyes. The lines on her face seem deeper. She's pushing on fifty-two now. The grief has aged her far more. "You're going to freeze when December hits."

"This one was his, May," [Y/N] replies. The words make May take a temporary pause. "I can't just find a new one."

Wind sends the leaves skittering along the graves. The red and brown contrast greatly to the pure white bouquet of cleomes sat on the headstone. Spider flowers, [Y/N] thinks with a small smile. He'd appreciate the irony.

"I think Peter would rather you be warm and cozy in your own well-fitting coat than freezing to death in one of his old, worn, baggy ones," May eventually responded. [Y/N] wrapped her hands around her body, subconsciously pulling the coat even closer. She could still pretend it smelled like him if she tried hard enough. The warm scent of cinnamon with hints of oak and amber. The smell of home.

The older woman gave her a sad smile and comfortingly rubbed her back. "But, I understand. It's hard to let go of it when you can imagine it's him. You wouldn't believe how many of Ben's old flannels are still folded up in my dresser."

Quiet crept in again. [Y/N] could still remember Ben Parker's death, how Peter shut down, how May crumbled. How could that have been nearly eight years ago? May still had her days of darkness, when the grief became too much. She had lost a husband and a son. [Y/N] had watched this woman quite literally go through every mother's nightmare. How did she get out of bed? How did she go to work? How was she still breathing?

"How do you do it?" [Y/N] broke the silence, unable to hold her thoughts back any longer. "It's been three years, May, and I still wake up expecting him to be next to me. I still wait for a call, a text, letting me know he's going to be late to dinner again this week because he's gotten caught up with some robbery downtown. I come home from work and I wait. I wait for Peter to walk in with Chinese takeout, give me a kiss that takes my breath away, and sit down to explain his latest gadget idea to me. I look at the door and I wait. I wait it for to open and it never does."

A sob falls from her lips. Tears are streaming down her face openly now, though [Y/N] can't remember when they started. May embraces her, tightly, as if she's keeping the girl in one piece. They fall together as [Y/N]'s knees give in from the weight of it all. The ground is cold. The grass is dead. Peter's headstone has collected enough dirt to look beige. There is no sign of life, no sign of who he was. All of it is dull. It makes the sobs wrack through her body even harder.

The two women sit there for quite some time. May cradles [Y/N] in her arms, whispering soothing words in her ear as the waves of sorrow slowly become smaller and smaller. There's been a quiet understanding between them ever since Peter's passing. They were family now. Neither would ever grieve alone. Neither would ever be alone. This was not the first time May Parker had held her son's partner in her arms as she grieved the loss of her love, and it would not be the last.

"You won't believe me, but it does get easier," May speaks while gently petting the girl's hair. Her breath had finally evened out, she was fresh out of tears. "It took me almost three years to come to terms with Ben's passing. I'm still learning to live without him. Healing is not linear, darling. I know it seems like this is never ending, but you will make it through this. We'll both make it through this, together, hand in hand. I am never leaving you and you're sure as hell not leaving me on my watch."

[Y/N] let out a shaky laugh, pulling back from May to look level with her. There were a few tear streaks down the older woman's face and [Y/N] felt a pang of guilt. She hated upsetting May or making her worry even more than she already did. May gently pushed the hair out of her face and [Y/N] took her hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, May," [Y/N] replied, placing a gentle kiss on the older woman's knuckle. "I'd miss your meatloaf too much."

May snorted, standing up and helping [Y/N] off the ground. "Now, there is no point in lying to me to butter me up," She joked, brushing the grass and dirt off the girl's coat. "Why don't you come back to the house for a bit? I'll make some tea. We could finally take a crack at that pumpkin bread recipe you've been talking about."

As if on cue, the shrill screech of a police siren broke May's created facade of a peaceful night. The women shared a look, [Y/N]'s full of remorse while May's held sorrow.

"Duty calls." [Y/N] sighed. She really did want to try that pumpkin bread recipe.

There was a beat. May opened her mouth and closed it again, trying to find the right words to say. She didn't have to. [Y/N] already knew.

"I know, May," The girl spoke up. "He wouldn't want this for me, and you're right, but he also wouldn't want New York to be completely on its own. This city needs a hero, a symbol of hope. It's selfish, but this is for me too. Makes me feel like I'm carrying on his legacy, I guess. As long as there's a Spider, there's still a piece of Peter around."

It had been hard informing May of the double life Peter had been living after he passed, but what else could [Y/N] have told her? "Ah yes, your son died in a very tragic car accident and that's why his spine was shattered into pieces and I was left completely unharmed although I was also at the scene." Lying to May after losing him just felt wrong.

So [Y/N] told her everything, about Spiderman, about the Green Goblin and the Osborns. And a few months later, when [Y/N] decided to take her late boyfriend's place and protect New York, the first thing she did was tell May. May, of course, pleaded with the girl not to go any further with the idea of Spiderwoman, but [Y/N] had her mind set. She was going to protect New York, not only for her home state's sake, but for Peter's memory as well.

May sighed. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop [Y/N] and there was no point in wasting both of their time. She'd been trying to put an end to this for two years now, but the girl was stubborn. Peter had called it "overly ambitious". May couldn't help but think that Ben could've put an end to this somehow, but it was just her now. She'd find a way eventually.

"If you need anything," May finally spoke. "I'll be home all night. I don't have night rounds at the hospital for the rest of this week. You stop by, no matter how late, okay? Peter's old bed is always there for you."

[Y/N] felt a pang in her chest at the mention of Peter's childhood bedroom. She'd spent at least four months after his death practically rotting away in his bed. There were so many memories from their teenage years in that room. She didn't know if she could face them again without deteriorating.

"Thanks, May," [Y/N] gave her a small smile. "I'll shoot you a text if I decide to stop by. In the meantime, pamper yourself. You work too hard."

The women shared a hug, May giving the girl a warm kiss on the cheek before they finally parted ways. [Y/N] watched May make her way out of the graveyard before leaning down to Peter's headstone. She gently sat her forehead against the stone and closed her eyes.

"I really, really hope you're proud of me."

──────────────────────

It was late. She'd been out for hours now, patrolling around the entire state of New York. Stopped a few break-ins, prevented some drug deals, the usual crime scene. It had been quiet ever since Norman Osborn's death. His passing was sudden, an apparent suicide. The news had sent [Y/N] into a fit of rage.

"That coward took the easy way out. After everything he's done, after Peter, it's over because of a fucking self-inflicted gunshot to the head? It was supposed to be me, May. I wanted to watch him bleed."

[Y/N] sat close to the top of the Empire State building. This had been her and Peter's hiding spot. She could remember the first time he had brought her up here, sometime during junior year, and the view had completely taken her breath away. Peter had taken her hand and told her he loved her for the first time. It truly felt like they could've conquered the world together.

She took a breath, attempting to let herself relax for the first time in a few days. She was exhausted; her head was pounding and her body ached. It was a lot more difficult to do the job that Peter left behind without any super-human abilities. She was extremely lucky all of his equipment hadn't taken damage, trying to follow Peter's notes and blueprints felt like reading a foreign language. It was a miracle she hadn't taken life-threatening injuries yet, though she had ended up on May's doorstep needing help getting patched back up more times than she'd like to admit. Thank God for May Parker.

The wind up this high was chilling. It seemed to bite, but it held a certain familiarity that brought comfort. [Y/N] wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the structure of the building. The red and blue of the suit reflected against the metal. She had managed to adjust Peter's old suit enough to get it to fit her smaller frame. She was cold. She never used to be cold up here.

Her eyes were getting heavier and it was dangerous to stay up this high, but she couldn't seem to care. She gave in almost at once, letting her eyes drift shut. I'll just rest my eyes for a minute, she thought. It's not like anyone will find me up here.

There was a brief moment of complete silence. No city sounds, no wind, she could barely hear the steady intake of her own breath. It was calm, almost as if she had made her way to the end of the world. A bright, nearly blinding light made [Y/N] squeeze her eyes shut tighter. What the hell?

The noise resumed. Cars honked, people yelled. [Y/N] rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the effect of the light, and noticed that the sun had risen. Had she accidentally fallen asleep and slept until morning? She'd have to send May a text. She always sent May an "I'm Ok! :)" after patrol. The woman must be worried sick.

[Y/N] made her way off of the building, slipping her mask back on and beginning to swing home. The sounds of Jonah Jameson's voice echoed through Times Square. Since when had he begun filming his episodes? She could've sworn the reporter only did his podcast.

J. Jonah Jameson sat at a desk, a stack of papers in his hand. His voice seemed to echo through the city. "Spider-Man continues his era of chaos with no remorse—"

That was weird. She had sworn everyone had switched to referring to the vigilante as Spiderwoman ever since the change had become more apparent. Also, when did Jameson go bald? He looked just... slightly off.

The reporter's rant on the hero continued. "When will you cease this meaningless destruction? After your betrayal to Mysterio, it's a miracle you have any public support remaining at all."

Mysterio? Who the hell was Mysterio?

The girl stopped, perching herself on the edge of a building and looking at the screen expectantly. She couldn't remember fighting a "Mysterio". There hadn't been a big bad in New York since the Goblin.

"It's time this little round of show-and-tell was put to an end," Jameson continued. "When will you face the facts? For the betterment of this city, you should be put behind bars. It's time you turned yourself in, Peter Parker."

[Y/N] felt her stomach drop.

The screen flashed. A photo of a teenaged boy was put on display. The words "PUBLIC ENEMY #1" were plastered over his face. Footage followed of the man Mysterio, accusing Peter of attempting to kill him. He revealed his identity and screen went to black.

[Y/N] could see Jameson's face appear back on the screen, but she couldn't hear a word he spoke. Something was extremely wrong here. She couldn't stop thinking about the boy that they had shown.

That's wasn't Peter.

🤍 Once again, congrats on the milestone. Anyway, you should do the arachnophobia fic idea! It's so adorable!

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

Funnily enough, Peter’s girlfriend has a crippling fear of spiders.

CONTENT: fluff, fem!reader, everyone is 18+

NOTES: I’m afraid of the dark… maybe you could come sleep with me ;)

By every definition of the word, Peter never considered himself a morning person. If anything, he despised mornings, but he could always appreciate the beauty in them.

When the sky took its time waking up along with the rest of the city, Peter became aware of several things almost at once: how the sun rose, painting the sky with hues of lilacs and pinks, golden threads of morning light pouring through the windows of his shared flat that warmed his skin. It brought another day of hopes and aspirations, soon to be fulfilled goals and another day spent with loved ones.

Instinctively, he reached out to the spot beside him, expecting to roll over and be embraced with a warm hug, only to frown when the sheets were cold and his girlfriend out of sight.

With a few bleary blinks, muddled with faint memories of his dream, Peter’s eyes momentarily clenched shut as stretched his limbs, hearing the popping of joints and unravelling knots before he got up with an exasperated sigh.

It was a Saturday morning, and he had no intention of waking up that early, but the bed was cold and empty.

“Peter!”

A strangled plea, desperation, a familiar voice.

A hot flash struck Peter’s body — contrasting with the chill sensation that ran down his spine and collected and pooled deep in his gut.

Jumping out of bed, he grabbed his web-shooters with shaky hands but it felt as if his vision had been disfigured — as if he were staring through a fish-eye lens while attaching them to his wrist.

His chest grew tight and thundered as bile rushed to his throat. Blood rushed into his ears that muffled and encased his head in static noise.

He breathed hard, rushing up to the bedroom door and nearly ripping it off its hinges. Uncertainty bled through every action — the panic coursing through him only amplified the accompanying scream of her name.

Barreling into the living room, his eyes darted to find his girlfriend standing in the centre of the room. Without thought, webs shot out and grabbed her, pulling her back into Peter’s chest before shoving her behind him.

“Where is it? Are you hurt? What happened?” He fired rapidly, arms outstretched wide to broaden his coverage to shield her. His mind reeled into overdrive.

But a second came and went, and the silence prevailed, only for Peter's ragged breath, becoming shorter, sharper, to fill the room.

Hesitantly examining for any trace of the intruder, Peter tossed a look to her, staring into her eyes wide with panic.

“I know you’re scared but you have to tell me. Where did it go?”

Her arm shot up, finger waving mid-air. “Up there!”

About to shoot out another web, Peter paused, blinking in utter disbelief.

Adjacent to them, seated in the far right corner of the wall, unmoving and unthreatening, was a spider — a relatively small one at that. It remained motionless, biding its time in the uncharted territory as its beady eyes leered at them, standing on eight legs.

“Please get it!”

Relaxing and slumping his shoulders, he sighed, licked his lips and burst into a fit of laughter. Peter spun around to cup her face in his hands, slightly shaking her in timing with his speech. “You — argh! I thought something bad happened to you! Don’t. You. Ever. Scare. Me. Like. That!”

But she was preoccupied, focus still stuck on the spider that was now scuffling towards them at a menacing speed that had her wiggling out of his grasp.

“Pete, please!”

He shook his head with a smile and breathless laugh. “You’re scared of the itsy bitsy spider?”

“It’s huge!”

Peter rolled his eyes, gesturing to himself. “You sleep with one every night!”

“Well, my Spidey doesn’t have eight legs and a hundred eyes!” She scoffed as if he was the ridiculous one while pushing him further to the spider. “They’re so ugly! And disgusting — atrocious little creatures!”

“I’m trying really hard not to get offended right now.”

“Can you just kill it already?”

“Kill it?” He exclaimed. “That’s self-murder — suicide!”

Her whining ensued, cowering away as Peter climbed the wall, letting the spider crawl into his hands despite her protest to use a napkin and cup instead.

It was a small common house spider with black and brown fuzz. She no longer bothered with words, only gagging as Peter observed the creature in the palm of his hand. Either way, he found the situation becoming increasingly hilarious as he cracked open the window and let the spider free.

With a yawn, he held out his hand to lead her to the bedroom, yet she refused, sputtering about washing them first.

“Oh come on! You didn’t mind a certain spider’s hands on you last night.”

And with the flattening of her mouth, she rolled her eyes and took his hand. Although reluctantly and with a grimace on her face.

Who knew the beauty of mornings also included capturing spiders?

Lost and found | p.parker

Andrew!Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Peter had lost you. When he finds you again, he doesn't believe his eyes.

Warnings: reader's death at the beginning, angst, fluff at the end

Words: 1.7k

Requests: Okay request ask about No Way Home: Reader gets pulled into Tom’s Peter’s universe and in Andrew’s Peters world you died in stead of Gwen so maybe a like sweet cute reunion type of thing between Andrew’s Peter and reader?

and

hello it could be a request from andrew peter where the reader returns, despite being dead, as otto and goblin. and all angst and happy. because I read that emma stone was going to appear but due to the covid she couldn't.

A/N: this was painful to write tbh, but it has a happy ending if you ignore that they're gonna be separated again technically

Peter had dealt with a lot of loss in his life. First, his parents that he had lost way too early in his life. He had grown up without them, being raised by his aunt and uncle. When he was younger, he had often dreamed about how life could have been with his parents. He knew so little about them, when he thought about it. There were so many corner pieces but nothing connecting them. What flowers did his mother like? What was his father’s favourite movie?

He grew up to know these things about his aunt and uncle after all. May loved the flowers that smelled the most like a summer day would, his uncle preferred to watch action movies over simple dramas. Peter knew their favourite foods, their work schedules and most of all, he remembered his childhood so often. They had always tried their best to make Peter feel like everyone else even without completely replacing his parents. He was lucky to have someone care for him like that.

His world was shaken when his uncle died. Back then, he had been to young to understand the loss of his parents completely, to feel the emptiness to its full extend when it happened. Now he had lost his father figure again, leaving a gaping hole in his heart and so much rage. Perhaps he could have saved him somehow, perhaps he could have changed something.

When he thought that he had finally managed to deal with Uncle Ben’s death, he lost the next person. This time he couldn’t save them again. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw your face, the remainder of a scream still on your lips, your hand reaching out for him to catch you but he never did. By the time his webs reached you, you had already hit the ground, your neck snapping right in front of him.

If he had to describe how he had felt in that moment, he wouldn’t be able to do it. His world had just completely fallen apart in that moment. His body had not felt like his own anymore, his legs had given in as soon as he reached the ground. Your lifeless body, laying there like a shattered flower in the middle of so much destruction. “No, no…” he mumbled, his voice sounding so far away. The tears ran down his cheeks and they seemed to burn on his skin. He felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore, like his heart would stop any moment.

You looked almost peaceful even when there was a storm raging inside Peter. He picked your head up gently, his fingers brushing through your hair one more time as he pressed his forehead to yours, his tears falling onto your face. How many times was he able to hold you like that, with your chest moving against his own, your laughter against his ear. But everything was silent now. He could probably hear a hairpin drop. He felt nothing but that numbing pain.

He knew that he should have been more careful. He should have prevented all of this from happening. He would give his own life so that he could hear you laugh one more time. He would give everything so his fingers would forget the feeling of your cold skin against them, the missing heartbeat, the laughter that echoed in his head as the most painful memory that he could not store away yet.

Loss was a constant in Peter Parker’s life, one that he could not get rid of, no matter how many lives he saved, how many bad people he stopped. He would never be able to get back what he had lost, not now and never in the future.

One day, when he was just on the way back from the grocery store, taking a shortcut over the roofs, everything changed. The world around him simply did. Buildings were taller, others smaller and some signs changed their meaning. He was not in the New York he knew as his home and that terrified him. It took him some time to figure out that he was probably in another version of this city. Peter had no clue how he had gotten here though. Did he drink something? Did something bite him again, but this time it would be much worse?

To be fair, the last few months had just been filled with grief for him. Just when he started to get better, he was focusing on fighting crime again, so the last thing he wanted now, just as he got back into his routine, was to land somewhere else, some place he didn’t know. And then he wasn’t able to figure out how he had gotten here in the first place.

Things started to happy pretty fast as he wandered around the city. He stepped through some sort of portal, following two voices he didn’t recognise. He found another Peter Parker which confused him even more. How many versions of him were there? Why did he meet one now, in this strange other version of New York?

And then he met another one, found out about the fact that he was not the only one from his New York that had found their way into this universe.

It was not until he arrived in the youngest Peter’s high school that worst thing happened. Peter was brooding over a few ingredients he had just mixed together when the two large doors to the school lab flew open.

And standing there, looking at everyone in the room, were you. The bottle he was holding fell to the ground, the glass shattering, the liquid spilling over the entire floor. Something seemed to wrap so tightly around his throat, robbing him of the ability to speak or to make a sound. He blinked a few times, aware of all the confused looks he was getting, but he was not able to believe his eyes. How could you stand there? Just a few metres away from him when he had clearly seen you die, back in that tower. When he had seen your dead body, cold and motionless, when you were such a painful memory in his head, when your death had forced him into his knees. When you had died and he had lost all the happiness in his life.

You stared at him, eyes wide open, and he could tell that you were trying to put so many pieces together as well. How did you end up here? How were you still alive? Nothing made sense anymore.

Peter had to force himself out of his chair, his legs feeling like jelly. He was not sure if they could even carry him far enough.

Then he stood before you, his eyes filled with so much pain. It was your turn to ask yourself what had happened that made him so sad. Peter was always a force to be around, happy, lighting up the entire room for you. The guy that stood in front of you seemed like he had seen too many horrible things.

“Peter,” you whispered. Did he even hear it?

What were the odds that you had landed in this strange place with your boyfriend?

“You…” He wasn’t able to say more. Before you could reach out, he was on his knees, his arms wrapping around your legs as he held you so tightly. “Peter,” you said again, confused, surprised – puzzled, most of all. What was happening? Why did this happen? What had happened to him?

“Peter, what happened? Do you know where we are?” you asked, hoping for an answer, but you knew you wouldn’t get one. Your boyfriend started sobbing, his hold around your legs getting tighter. Reluctantly, still not sure what was happening, you wrapped your arms around him as well, your heart aching at the sound of him crying. You wanted to comfort him – you needed to comfort him.

“I saw you die, Y/N, I saw you die.”

For a moment, you couldn’t even register his words. It took you a few breaths, it took you a moment to close your eyes, before you understood what he was trying to say. You had died, but at the moment, you were pretty sure that you weren’t dead.

“I saw you fall, I held your body,” Peter continued, his voice reflecting all the grief he had felt.

Maybe you had been right with your first assumption. This was another universe, where all things happened differently. What if this wasn’t the Peter you were with in your world, but another one that came from a place where you had died in front of him?

The thought terrified you. It left you with a cold sensation in your entire body. How did you die?

“I’m alive, I’m very alive right now, Peter,” you assured him. He needed that, you knew it. This was not the right moment to talk about your theory of what had happened, to ask Peter what he thought about it or where he came from. It was not the moment to ask any questions, because you knew that he was still the Peter you knew and you had just come back to him somehow, after he had originally lost you.

You sank to your knees as well, the cold tiles adding to the freezing sensation in your body, but you didn’t mind. Not when you were able to take Peter’s face into your hands, feeling the stubble under your fingers, something your Peter had just newly acquired.

His forehead leant against yours, the tears leaving his face wet. Just like on that fatal day, he was holding you again, forehead against yours, but this time, he could feel your breath against him again. He could feel your chest rise and lower against his own, he could hear the heart beating in your chest.

Maybe all of this wasn’t quite right and a lucky coincidence, but he could not let you go.

Maybe he would never let you go again. The tears kept coming and coming, but he did not feel the numbness anymore. He felt relieved, alive, more than he did in the last few months, because you were in his arms again.

Because some version of him did not make the same mistakes.

Andrew's Spider-Man and supervillain reader?

Your Favorite Villain│Andrew Garfield!Spiderman x Villain!Reader

Warnings: Brief descriptions of violence; some suggestive content; set in tasm!

Word Count: 1k

Summary: You have no desire to be a hero, so you’re not above causing some havoc to catch the attention of the Amazing Spiderman.

Author's Note: No spoilers for Spiderman: NWH! Thank you anon for putting in a request, I hope I did you justice. I did try to keep this gender-neutral, but I may have subconsciously written this regarding a feminine reader, so sorry about that. I wanted to do a sort of enemies to lovers trope and was inspired by Spiderman and Black Cat’s dynamic. Also to clear any confusion about (Y/n)’s power, they essentially have the ability to teleport themselves or whatever inanimate object they desire.

Feet dangling over the edge of a building, you hum a small tune as you wait for a certain someone to appear. Pulling the box closer to your figure, you examine the priceless items kept inside. Taking out a necklace, you’re quick to clutch it to your person when you hear the sound of Spiderman land behind you.

“You left a mess back at the museum. That’s not like you.”

“Museum?” Standing up, you play dumb before holding the necklace up in front of him. “Oh! Museum! I was wondering how I got all these nice things.”

While you couldn’t see the man behind the mask, you were sure he was rolling his eyes at your antics. Setting the expensive jewelry back in the box, you sigh. “I’m just joking. You can take a joke, can’t you? Or does Spiderman not have a sense of humor?”

Going to pick up the box, you stumble in surprise as you feel his webs tie your wrists together. Hands bound by his webs, you stare at him with a sly smirk. “Do you love binding your enemies, or am I just lucky?”

Peter doesn’t answer, merely shaking his head. The hero walks up towards you, moving the box of stolen artifacts away from you before grabbing your bound wrists. “Come on. We’re going to the station.”

“Do we have to?” You lift your arms, hooking them around the hero's neck to bring him close to you. “You know how this’ll go down anyways. We’ll fight, I’ll give you most of the artifacts back as a sign of a truce before sneaking off. Why not save our energy and do something more productive?”

Glancing down at where his lips would be, you wait in silence, giving him time to think before sighing. Spiderman had too strong of morals. Yet, something happened. Something different than usual. You felt his arms wrap around your waist as he released the sound of a strained sigh. “I don’t get you. One moment you’re stealing from museums, banks, taking anything you want, and then the next, you’re saving citizens by my side. Why do you do it?”

“Why does it matter?” Bringing your face closer to his, you bite your lip. “Hero, villain…Labels are just so restricting. I do things because I want to.”

His grip on you tightens, making you sigh longingly. The two of you enjoy the moment, well aware that neither of you would settle this with ease. Not tonight, anyway. His morals were too strong, and yours too fluid. Still, for these brief seconds, he could ignore what you stole and you his unwavering ability to always be a hero. And so, you kiss him softly through his mask, leaning into his embrace ever so slightly.

“Sorry, Spidey.”

Your apology was quick as you brought your knee up to his stomach before flashing away, appearing at the next building, webs no longer restraining you. You wave teasingly, a smile on your face as you hold the box of artifacts. Peering inside, you huff in annoyance as you realize Spiderman had taken the necklace, the one thing you desired the most from your stolen goods. As if on cue, the hero calls your attention, waving the piece of jewelry from his spot.

“Looking for something?”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

You hear him laugh while swinging towards you, clearly amused by your remark. The box of items disappears from your hold, warping to a location he wouldn’t be able to find without you. He comments on how that’s cheating, making you laugh as you warp, appearing behind him. Attempting to swing at his head with your leg, he catches your foot mere centimeters away. Grunting, he keeps a firm grip while turning around to face you. He swings your foot away, causing you to stumble. The hero catches you with ease, your back against his chest.

“This is certainly an interesting position,” you comment under your breath, aware he can hear you and probably your racing heart.

“Do you always deflect with humor?”

“Just around you.” Again you disappear, now standing at the ledge of the roof. You hold the necklace he had and place it around your neck. “You’re fun to tease and you can’t say you don’t enjoy it.”

He doesn’t respond, making you laugh in response. Silence had never been so loud. Toying with the necklace around your neck, you tilt your head. “I’ll make you a deal, Spidey. I keep the necklace, and you get the rest of the artifacts. Sound fair?”

“I need all of the items. I’m not bargaining with a thief.”

Placing a hand over your chest, you feign being hurt by his comment. “Just a thief? And to think we shared a kiss.”

The two of you stand at opposite ends of the building, neither of you making a move. If you wanted to, you could disappear with the stolen artifacts. In fact, you probably could have taken them without him being aware in the first place. Peter could never understand why you did what you did. You were an enigma, and he was curious to know who was under the mask.

“Clock’s ticking, Spidey. What’s it going to be?”

“You can keep the necklace.”

“That’s a good boy.” You say with a smile on your lips. The box reappears, this time by Peter’s feet. “Pleasure doing business—”

Your sentence is cut short, Spiderman launching a web and pulling you towards him. You let him do so and don’t struggle as he slowly removes the necklace, his fingers brushing at the edge of your mask. Waiting with bated breath, waiting for him to remove it, you watch as he only takes the necklace.

“You could have taken it off.” You whisper, eyeing him suspiciously. “Don’t you want to see who the criminal behind the mask is?”

“I’d rather you willingly do it yourself.” Peter answers before stepping away from you.

“Will I ever get to see the Spider behind the mask? I mean, if I take mine off, it’s only fair.”

“Maybe, but I don’t reward criminals.”

“Not even the ones you like?”

“Try to go straight, alright? You have a gift, one that could be used to help people.”

You had no plans to change your ways. Yet the tone in his voice, his belief that you could do better…shook something in you. Lightly pushing him away, you begin to back towards the ledge again. Blowing him a kiss, you watch as the world shifts, your vision distorting as you start to warp yourself to another location.

“I’ll think about it.”

BAGAGSFAHAHAHHAJASH I WANT TO HUG HIM

𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me” 

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

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˖ ׁ 𝒞e͟l͟e͟b 𝑀a͟s͟t͟e͟r͟l͟i͟st ୨୧

and the award goes to!

© anqelws 2024

please, i've been on my knees change the prophecy

prophecy, taylor swift. 2024

CILLIAN MURPHY

coming soon!

SABRINA CARPENTER

coming soon!

ANDREW GARFIELD

coming soon!

CHRIS EVANS

coming soon!

DYLAN OBRIEN

coming soon!

TAYLOR SWIFT

coming soon!

I love this man with all my heart

Thats for ALL the fandoms i'm in and it hurts like hell

me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines

I'm so frustrated that I haven't written anything for Andrew Garfield so I decided to do this.

Any requests for Andrew Garfield? ──────────────────────────

After a long time without writing i finally came back i was really busy with studies and work but now i'm glad i came back so please send me your requests!!

Singers and actors

Andrew Garfield

Calum Hood (from 5 Seconds of Summer)

Dominic Fike

Timothée Chalamet

Damiano David (from Måneskin)

me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines

nothing on you.

pairings. tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

about. in which you find your lab partner in a strange place you’d never expect to find him in.

warnings. corny‼️

ricky rocks. short story 4 my best man because i didn’t want to think too hard into this

“you look like someone who could use some company.”

oh god, you sounded like a weirdo. or a hooker.

but despite that, he still looked and smiled at you, “look at you.” he almost grinned harder once he got a good look at you, taking notice that you weren’t exactly wearing the sweatshirt and sweatpants he always saw you in—but rather a very revealing top and a mini skirt. “didn’t take my lab partner for someone who liked to party.”

“i might say the same thing about you, parker,” you smiled back, taking a seat next to him on the ratty old frat couch he sat on. “when i thought of you getting your rocks off, i thought you’d be in an actual room with rocks.”

“wow, i’m offended,” he squinted at you putting a hand against his chest as if to cover his wounded heart, but he stilled smiled. “i would have hoped you thought higher of me, y/l/n.”

“i don’t intend on offending you, peter,” you smiled with amusement, “i just would have thought you were better than this.” you motioned and referenced to the frat house that you both currently sat in with all the buff dudes bumping their heads as they watched another identical guy chug a beer.

it made him scoff and his head slightly tipped, “but it’s normal for you to stoop this low?”

you shrugged, “we all have our moments of weakness… me more than anyone.”

“oh, so you’re saying this is a weekly occurrence for you?” he quirked an eyebrow, really wanting to know the answer.

and you almost didn’t want to answer, cringing as your head slightly fell sideways in shame, “maybe.”

“oh, on,” he shook his head, “cheap beer? men who don’t know basic hygiene and are probably failing their math 1 class? that’s your type, isn’t it? that’s why you come here, to get some play from boys with pedophile staches and low iqs?”

you laughed maybe a little too loudly, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth as you stared at peter who’s brow arched higher, but still he smiled, loving every moment of your presences.

“i don’t stoop that low.”

“oh, good. we still have time to save you,” he sat up now, clasping your elbow and scooting closer to you, “i almost thought i’d have no chance with you.”

“really?” your cheeks burned and you almost felt shameful for leaning closer to him as his voice was now a whisper and comforting and warm and ready to swallow you whole.

“yeah,” he nodded his head, “compared to those big burley guys who live off pre-workout, i’m nothing.”

you giggled again, feeling woozy and even more drunk with his amusement that was just feeding you to the brim with bliss. it felt out of body, it didn’t feel real, but it was and you felt like a fool falling so fast for someone you barely knew.

“they got nothing on you, peter parker.”

**

you were completely lost with time, but all you knew was he was a really good kisser and that’s all that mattered right then and there as the two of you stumbled into your dorm room where you were soon consumed in pitch black. neither of you could find care for it as you still clung to him feverishly, kissing him with all you could as if on a timer.

you couldn’t help but laugh once his mouth pulled from yours and started pressing kissed against your neck while the two of you still absent mindedly attempted to find your bed. you tried your best to guide but failed—causing the both of you to trip over your own feet and fall to the ground.

you giggled through the pain as you were now squished beneath peter’s body. he groaned, laughing a little himself but he still winced, pushing himself off and to the side of you, “well, we tried.”

“we did.” you smiled, not finding the attempt a complete failure due to now being a lot more familiar with your lab partner.

“i’d say i was hoping things would go a lot more smoother but…” he traveled off, now looking to the side of your face, “i’m not completely disappointed.”

“nor am i,” you looked back,

“next week then?”

navigation

if you’re too shy (let me know) (pp)

inspired by this euphoria scene. peter helps his longtime crush take nudes that are meant for someone else. angst, tension, thirdwheel!peter. [0.9k]

from fighting back against his long term bully, eugene ‘flash’ thompson, to taking down giant lizards, this was probably the most life threatening, hazardous situation peter has ever gotten himself into. he should honestly be dead by now considering how long he’s been holding his breath in for.

if you’re too shy (let me know) by the 1975 plays in the background while he makes this assumption, soothingly and absently, as if it’s mocking peter. he almost forgets his current position. almost. peter’s on his knees in front of your bed, watching, eyes glazed over, as you reposition yourself above him.

“i feel like that’s good.” you mumble, wrapping your hand around his own that was currently holding your phone at an upward angle. “does it look real? does it look like i’m taking it?” you smiled, eyes wide and still directed at the phone camera.

peter smiles back for a moment before realising that your smile, tight, with your pearly whites exposed, wasn’t for him. no, these were for someone peter didn’t even know the name of, he tries to remember if he even bothered asking.

“maybe try to loosen up a bit, but straighten up your posture, still.” peter tries to smirk, right corner of his lip forcibly pulled up into a desperate attempt at hiding what he truly felt. what he didn’t even know he felt.

there’s something about your stare that makes peter nervous and makes him say things that he doesn’t mean. like just now— you looked perfect and the mystery man on your phone would be lucky enough to even receive one of these photos in the first place.

peter tenses at the thought, god i sound like a simp. serves you right for agreeing to do this, he thinks.

“are you okay? your hand is like— really warm.” your eyes meet his. “no- yeah, yeah, yeah. that’s good. um, maybe tilt your head down a bit.” peter suggested, his other hand that wasn’t under yours motioning at his own chin.

you hummed, muttering a “good call, that angle probably wasn’t doing it for me.” while leaning your head down a bit, eyes meeting the phone lense once again.

peter wanted to say something along the lines of ‘no angle could possibly do that.’ or ‘every angle does it for you.’ but decided against it, considering the fact that you were probably already uncomfortable.

“make me look good.” you mumbled, biting your lips subtlety for the camera. “always.” peter scoffs jokingly, desperately trying to loosen up in his awkward position.

you were in your nicest bra, a baby pink victoria secret one that you contemplated buying for a while. the dainty undergarment had a small heart shaped golden charm tied into it that produced a soft and dreamy glare in front of the camera.

meeting your own eyes in your vanity mirror, the unease finally caught up to you. “this is a really bad angle for me.” “no it isn’t, shut up.” peter murmurs back but his eyes betray his unbothered façade, quickly lifting up to yours, ready to stop the second you get uncomfortable. “how do i turn on grids on this?” peter jokes, hoping to get to see your pretty smile again.

he gets what he wants because a second later you bark out a laugh. “grids? peter this isn’t vogue.” you grin, and the nerdy joke, peter decides, was 100% worth it when he looks up and realises that your gaze is on him.

it takes a moment for him to snakily retort back.

“okay, excuse me for not making this another one of your blurry, horizontal snapchats where you can barley see anything. i’m an artist, you know. i have to hold myself up to a standard. even if they are your nudes.” peter hopes that the lighthearted joke will throw you off on how rigid he was being, and if you hadn’t been throwing your head back laughing at his sarcasm, you would’ve noticed the deep flush in his cheeks.

“you’re such a dork.” you jabbed, lifting the corners of your lips while doing so. “the baby my neighbour paid me to shoot was a better model than you.” he retorts back. and for a while, it’s intimate, the situation. it’s almost something romantic, and peter thinks it’s worth being the third wheel to you and the mystery man on your phone if it means you’re going to smile and laugh at every one of his jokes and looks.

“do you want a couple with portrait mode on?” he jokes, for what he presumes is the forth time. god, parker, give it a rest, he thinks. finally lowering your phone and exiting the camera app. his repetition doesn’t stop you from giggling. “fuck off.”

he hands your phone to you and you move to lay on your stomach, while you scroll through the photos. “wait this one actually looks like i took it.” you look up at peter, grinning. “right?” he’s still on the floor, gaze dreamy, when he replies; “yeah.”

“these are amazing. thanks, pete.” you pick out your favourite one and send it to the mystery man before getting up to put your shirt back on, feeling peter’s eyes on you the whole time.

“are you checking me out?” you laugh, pulling your shirt over your head. the tension between you two materialising as heat in your cheeks.

peter scoffs, “you wish.” thanking god that your shirt was over your head to miss the fact that his eyes were momentarily bulging out of his head.

peter could get used to this, to you, and the sense of intimacy that was involved in being around you.

ding!

“peter, he replied!”

Fucking stunning.

blood-splattered angels [tasm!Peter x assassin!fem!reader]

My own take on my TASM prompt challenge (open to anyone who feels like writing; it’s not a competition or exclusive).

Summary: THIS PROMPT - Spider-Man is kidnapped and held hostage by a mob. And then they make their biggest mistake - sending you the address. 

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: John Wick-level violence, death, blood, gunfire, whump, torture, male nudity/degradation, panic attacks, noncon voyeuristic photography, mobster-style shootout, description of flu symptoms, vomit, strong language, badass!reader, OP’s awful attempt at writing broken English in a Russian accent. 

This was bad. Really bad.

Peter was starting to come out of it, his dazed eyes flickering open—senses bombarded with harsh fluorescent light.

His face was wet with blood, sweat, and yes—he wasn’t ashamed to admit it—tears. The bile on his tongue was so putrid, he thought he’d throw up. Again. Maybe his actual stomach this time.

His body ached and shuddered uncontrollably. It felt like the worst flu of his life, and whatever he thought Ebola probably felt like. Every inch of his skin hurt. What little strength he had left in his muscles was depleting with every involuntary tremble.

He was having a very bad day.

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what if I where to write a TASM Peter Parker fic

(and by write I mean the first chapter has already been written…)