Peter Parker Glasses Meme Novels & Stories

He was the teenager who had claimed to be her fan at the fansign event a month ago. "Oh my God, I really can't believe it's you. I told you that these round glasses of yours really transform your handsome face. You'd better get rid of those glasses," Luna suggested, taking her seat while Leo chuckled and removed the glasses, placing them back in his pocket. Perhaps he intended to keep them rather than dispose of them, unlike Luna's suggestion. Leo was cautious; he feared he might need his glasses later on and was currently relying on contact lenses to aid his vision.

“ I couldn't help but stutter. He could be a troublemaker, yes. But there was nothing bizarre about him. The son of a bitch was a cat, in such a cliché way that I doubted my own eyesight. How long had it been since I had my glasses checked? To top it off, he was also four"eyed, like me. But in a Clark Kent kind of way, you know? Nerdy, but mysterious. The kind of guy who doesn't even know how sexy he is. Has it suddenly started to get hotter around here? Or is it just a very occasional hormonal variation, guys? " My name is Peter.” “Aria.” "Different name, nice. Nice to meet you, Aria. Do you want help with the bags?”

He looks at me and I see his brows tense when he takes me in further. “You’re agitated” he states, observing me carefully. “You didn’t tell me she lived here” the accusation leaves my mouth before I can stop myself. I ball my fists to my side. “Did you know?” Parker sighs and takes off his glasses, dropping them to the side and standing up from his desk. He stretches a bit and the starchy white shirt he has on doesn’t crinkle in the slightest. I’ll never understand why he chooses to wear his office shirts to work at home but who am I to argue.

Then slowly…Very slowly… I reached up and yanked off his glasses. Silence, I stared. Then I blinked and bit my lip hard. Oh. My God?!! “What the fuck is that?!” I burst out. “Why is your eye looking like a black pea?!” He snatched the glasses back instantly. “I fell,” he said flatly. I stared at him. “No.” He turned away. “No, that is not a fall,” I said, stepping closer, inspecting him like a detective. “That is a punch. A very personal punch. ”