Peter Parker Suit Novels & Stories

At that moment I heard the Bell on the door ring and saw Peter coming in, I signaled for him to come over so he didn't spend ages searching for me. He sat down and I could tell that he didn't look so good. He was wearing a white T shirt and blue jeans, classic Peter. He never over dressed but you could hardly find him in shorts either. I have never seen him in a suit and tie too, even for our first dinner date he wore casual clothes. Looking at him I could actually see a lot of resemblance between him and Damon… the same brown hair, average muscular build, even the same brown eyes. Peter was also tall, but not as Damon… but why was I comparing Peter to Damon?!

Peter's pov I'm Peter Ace Carnell, a 16-year-old. I can say that I'm not that good at school, but I'm good at selling things, sports, boxing and, for my luck, I'm good at programming especially hacking. My life isn't easy. I live with my mother. I work in the Blackstone mafia as a stealer, so I steal cars, jewelry, money... Sometimes I distribute drugs and even sell them. Anyway, I was punished by the men in the mafia several times but not as harshly as the other kids working here. Once one of the leaders got really angry with me and hit me with the belt. I'm really scared of belts to the point that I don't wear one.

Trying to undo the attention I brought him. He's proving to the public that he's straight. But he's into me, and I'll prove it. “I'm not worried,” I say to Diego while I continue eating. _____________ Hours later. I usually wear black. To intimidate, but tonight—--- I don't want that. Still, I don't want anything too bright. “I wore a faded — sky blue shirt under a black suit. Dark brown formal shoes. Cologne sprinkled over my hair and clothes—-- Invictus only this time.

Dad laughs. I grab some black jeans and under garments. When I open the Nike box, I am utterly shocked. These custom spiderman air force ones are everything I needed. I pull the shirt out of the box, and I am so giddy. It is a characteristic version of me and Onyx in spiderman suits. The back of the shirt says, “Spider gang” and has all of the families’ names on the back. I quickly get the shirt on and head out to the backyard where the party is in full swing.

he tsked and rolled his eyes good naturedly. “Hi Peter.” Mirage was mid-transformation, her face masklike as the makeup artist added contouring. “Did you have a good day?” “Oh, I bought some fabulous shoes. But haven’t you been a busy one?” Peter hung a suit bag onto the freestanding rack and unzipped it. “The energy out there is insane.” “Is it?” Mirage was nervous. Vice swung himself into a seated position. “Yes, so much support, my talented little girl,” Peter said separating garments out onto the rack and setting shoes to the floor. “It is a beautiful thing to see.”

I replied. Peter Banducci extended his hand. A firm grip. Too warm. His suit was Italian-cut, naturally. Crisp blue with subtle pinstripes, the kind men chose when they wanted to look expensive without appearing loud. His cufflinks gleamed discreetly. His shoes had no scuffs. But it was the eyes—gray, quick, measuring—that told me the suit was a costume. I gestured toward the seats. “Please, make yourself comfortable.” Peter settled across from me, elbows resting lightly on the table. He looked around the room as though he’d been here before.

Not only was he going to make it fail, but he was also going to make her feel bad for it! Britney controlled her anger as she looked at Tyler’s car driving away. She then stomped the ground and cursed, “Crazy… They’re all crazy!” “I told you. Don’t make any moves without thinking it through.” Peter appeared, wearing a thin khaki jacket with a white t-shirt inside. His clothes were perfectly neat with not even a hint of folding. However, the expression on his face was extremely cold. He had one hand in his pocket, and the other massaged his neck.

A few minutes after, Peter appeared from the bathroom, ready for bed, stripped down to just boxers, water still dripping down his dark hair and hairless broad chest. His stomach was lined with abs of steel. Muscles rippled across every part of his body; with strong arms, bold thighs and calves. The only thing preventing her from seeing how big and scary he was down there were the pink boxers he had on. With just her eyes, she wants to take it down but pink is her favourite colour. What a coincidence?

"That's none of your concern, but I'll tell you anyway. He ruined my life and my home. Since Karma won't catch up to him, I'll treat him as poorly as he treated me. He'll beg for mercy until his last breath. It'll serve as a lesson to everyone—never mess with the wrong woman." "You didn't answer my question, so I won't answer yours. Besides, I don't know much about the dude, only that he always wears a cool mask divided into red and dark brown. There's an 'X' in a circle that looks like a ring of fire, and the color line forms a 'Y' above it. If you see that description, you've found him." "He doesn't use guns, only two Japanese long swords—Katanas. And don't even get me started on his suits

This was new to them. Peter had already risen, hearing the cry. He angrily jumps out of bed and takes a shower. Once he is changed he strides down to the dining room and awaits his breakfast. He is wearing an elegant silver grey suit, a crisp white shirt and a grey tie. His hair is unruly on his head and his face unshaven. After a night of drowning his sorrows he weilds a headache from this unexpected alarm clock.