Peter Parker Imagines Novels & Stories

"He's been wanting to meet the son who is so… bravely… following in his footsteps." “Alright”, Peter drops the call. Left in terrifying silence, realizing he is in far deeper than he ever imagined. Then he realizes the people who may have killed his father and Patrick might soon now wants to shake his hand.

Darin said as he slowly loosened his grip on Peter’s neck and set him free. For some reason, Peter was no longer scared of Darin, he knew that Darin would not hurt him. He had become less savage, Peter had to take precautionary measures, he brought tons of blood bags for Darin so that he would be perceived as dinner fur Darin. “But it’s impossible and you know it. It’s okay to deny it, I mean that’s what our mind likes to do. Soon enough, you would embrace it.” Peter said. “I am a scientist, a great one at that. I don’t cling to things that I think are impossible. My wife, Yvette was a time walker, if I can find a witch like her, then I have my solution.” Darin said.

Amanda. I don't know how it started this tiny teeny thing I feel for Mr Parker just yesterday he was picking us from school me and his daughter and today I am in his closet smelling his shirts while they at church. For the past six months I have had fantasy upon fantasy that Mr Parker stars in sometimes he walks in on me playing with myself in his closet where his wife's clothes are just next to his ,he will find me so wet telling me I am a bad girl while he spanks me and takes me where I stand ,I start touching myself when I hear the front door open voices chattering away.

The bigger question was how did they plan to shaft me? Peter had his hand held out. “You want this?” I asked him. Peter smiled, his teeth all perfect white and his slicked-back hair glistening with oil or wax or whatever old men used to mould their hair into shape like a Lego hairpiece. “It isn’t a matter of want, kiddo. I need it to make sure we don’t lose our lives to the elf threat.” The elf threat. He made it sound like they were creeping across the border to steal our jobs and women.

I told him before bidding him goodbye. I looked for Cyrus or Vanelope but they were nowhere around until someone tapped my shoulders, “Boo!” After hearing that ridiculous attempt to scare me, I squinted my eyes from the back, “Peter, you do know that it is not scary to scare someone like that.” “Really? Is it not? Why does it work for every human I know?” He wondered while massaging his chin, forcing me to furrow my eyebrows. He calls people human huh? It’s kind of hilarious that he calls us beings that way. “Are you going somewhere?” He curiously asked.

“That sounds like the kind of shit a mage says when they’re about to turn you into a diseased frog and then explain how it’s actually for your own good.” I choked down a laugh of my own. Now there was an idea. I could get behind Parker living out the rest of his life as a diseased frog. It wouldn’t be a long one, since I’d stomp him into diseased green slime. But still. Not a bad idea.

"The hacker isn't trying to steal your code, Peter. They are generating a false trail through my family's estate because they know your machine brain will automatically treat me like an internal system malfunction. They want you to look at me like an enemy asset." Peter stood entirely static behind the marble island, his long, powerful arms resting rigidly at his sides as his internal processors manually logged the configuration of my hypothesis. For five long, agonizing seconds, the silence of the penthouse stretched thin between us, the pale morning light illuminating the sharp, ruthless contours of his aristocratic features like a statue carved from stone.

Meanwhile, Peter paces the forest path, his thoughts a chaotic mess. The possibility of having Clover as his mate, something he's secretly dreamed of but never allowed himself to truly consider, now dangles before him like forbidden fruit. But not like this. Not through manipulation and politics. "Fuck," he growls, kicking at a fallen branch. The wood splinters under his boot. "She deserves better than this."

One of them mentioned it. I lean forward just a fraction. “And how does Peter get these drugs?” I press. A bitter laugh slips past her lips as she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms like a shield. “He doesn’t get them,” she mutters. “He makes them. Guy’s some kind of science PhD. Thinks he’s a genius.” I study her face for any sign of a crack—hesitation, a tell—but she holds steady. “You do realize how this sounds, don’t you?” I ask evenly.

They always did. I let out a soft gasp when a pair of arms slipped around my waist, then relaxed instantly the moment I recognized the familiar hold. “Welcome to Rio de Janeiro,” he whispered near my ear before kissing it. “They say the hottest people in the world live here, but I think they got it wrong, because the hottest person I know came from Queens.” I rolled my eyes, a quiet chuckle slipping out. “Peter Parker or Daredevil?” “Not that hot red,” he laughed. “Scarlet Spider, actually.”