SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME (2021) + Letterboxd Reviews (Andrew Garfield Edition)

Do you have a best friend too? I did. You did? He died in my arms… after he tried to kill me.

just andrew in the background of this conversation

The Adventures of Spider-Man and Moonlight

A/N: okay so I know I said that chapter 4 would up today but chapter 4 is incredibly long but this chapter is very important to Luna’s character so I decided to do a 3.5 so that chapter 4 isn’t quite as long. I promise it will be worth it! Enjoy this short one to tide you over for 4!

Summary: In which Spider-Man learns more about Moonlight than anyone else

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none

Chapter 3.5: Too Cool to Be From the Moon

Moonlight stared at the masked man twenty feet away from her and wondered what his life was like. He had to have a job like she did but what did he do? He was really smart so he had to do something like engineering or maybe he was in business and was one of those people who didn’t actually work and got to take a hundred vacation days in the year. It would make sense on how he had the time to be Spider-Man because he was out way more than her. Luna could only come out as Moonlight during the night for the most part because she was at work during the day time. She of course got her days off but she tried to pick up shifts whenever she could to make rent. What did Spider-Man do that allowed him so much time to be Spider-Man?

“I can feel your stare.” He called just loud enough. 

Instead of looking away, she got up and made her way over to him, plopping down bedside his crouched position. “You know I don’t know anything about you. Not what you look like, not your favorite movie, not if you think pineapple belongs on pizza-”

“It does.”

“Heathen.”

“See that right there. You just told me something about yourself.” Her eyebrow arched. “Any native New Yorker knows that pineapple belongs on pizza. You’re not from New York.”

“Incorrect.” She hummed in a sing-song tone. “I was indeed born in New York. But you’re right. I’m not actually from New York.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything about you like I don’t have to tell you anything about me.”

“What if I wanna know something about you?” She breathed. 

He finally looked her way and they stared at each other for a minute, Spider-Man debating on what he wanted to do. “I will answer three indirect identity questions.”

Luna squealed. “Goodie! Okay, so first, what’s your favorite song?”

Thinking for a second, he nodded. “Have You Ever Seen the Rain by CCR.”

“I see that. That song fits you. Okay next-”

Spider-Man interrupted. “What do you mean it fits me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just does. But to my next question: Tequila or Vodka?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” He mused with a chortle. 

“Just answer the question, Spidey.”

“Tequila.”

“Were you born with your powers or did someone give them to you?”

The silence that filled the space between them was thick but Luna stared, waiting for his answer. 

“I um wasn’t born with them. A spider bit me.”

“You’re actually joking right?”

He was confused. “Why would I be joking?” 

“Because that’s just so…funny. Like you got bit by a spider and turned into a spider human. Like what the fuck ya know?”

“Fine. How did you get your powers huh? Did some mad scientist give you your powers Ms. I’m too cool to be from the moon or something?” He teased, being sarcastic. 

“Yeah.”

Spider-Man froze, mouth open with the next word he had been planning on saying. “Wait, really?”

She shrugged a single shoulder, trying to play it off. “Yeah. Gregory Manheim. My foster parents sold me to him when I was seven and then he turned me into this. But I did have my healing abilities before that so I guess I was also born with them.”

He swallowed, the mental image of a young Moonlight in his head. Then the mental image of her as a young child scared and alone took over and he wanted it gone. He didn’t think Moonlight knew what scared meant because she faced everything head on and never showed any type of fear but he was so wrong. She faced everything head on without fear because whatever she was facing at the time wasn’t the scariest thing she had been through.

“That’s really terrible, Moonlight. I’m sorry.”

Moonlight stared off at the city. “Florida.”

“What?”

“I’m from Florida. I was born here but Manheim’s lab was in Florida. You know I didn’t even know I wasn’t in New York anymore until I was nine? He never let me go outside so I didn’t know I’d left the state. I was so young I thought it was a different country.” She chuckled dryly. “The energy…that didn’t come until I was fourteen. I’ll never forget the first time I was able to externalize it.” The way she stared off was as if she was back there. “He put a bite guard in my mouth and I just knew whatever it was it was gonna hurt. Then he hooked up the particle accelerator and…I felt like I was an exploding ball of fire.”

Spider-Man stared at her, heartbroken and horrified behind his mask. A particle accelerator was what gave Moonlight her powers and it made so much sense. They were made to propel particles to high speeds…and energies. That was where she got her speed from and the light beams that came out of her hands were exactly the purpose of them. In summary, she was a human particle accelerator.

“You know you’re the first person I've ever told that to?”

“That you’re from Florida? Yeah I wouldn’t go sharing that with everyone.” He chuckled before his smile fell and he became serious. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“I don’t know how you do it. You just make me- people feel safe…and other things: irritation, rage, annoyance.” she listed off before letting out a soft laugh, Spider-Man joining in. “So now you know where I come from.”

“Jesus. You were just a baby.” He shook his head.

She hummed, eyes on the city she vowed to protect. “I was. But he never realized something very crucial.”

“What?”

Moonlight looked back at him. “That he was creating the very weapon that would eventually kill him. Last year I tracked him down to Russia and I made sure he would never do to another person what he did to me. I made sure I get to sleep at night knowing he’ll never come for me and ya know what?”

“What?”

“I sleep like a baby.”

Spider-Man was a very morally inclined person but he didn’t blame Moonlight for a second. This one he could excuse and wouldn’t think or look at her differently. Who knows what all had been to her in the ten years that she had been a human lab rat. He didn’t want to think about them. It put him in a rage to just think about and there was no one he could direct that at because the person responsible was already dead. 

It was obvious to him that she was making herself incredibly vulnerable to him in that moment. It then all became clear to him that the sarcasm, the jokes, the dicking around was some sort of defense mechanism or coping mechanism.

The police scanner beside them burbled to life with some key words that had their attention and the two were off to save the city from whatever villain of the week decided it was their turn. One thing for certain that they both knew was that Peter now knew more about Moonlight than anyone else and he was the closest thing she had to a best friend. 

That night, all Luna had been able to think about as she laid in bed trying to fall asleep was that she was getting dangerously close to Spider-Man and it terrified her but at the same time she wanted it. She wanted a friend, she wanted someone to know her and care about her. She just didn’t know if it was what was best for him- or her.

Requests are open! I write for tasm!Peter so send me prompts and or requests

The Amazing Spider-Man 2012, dir. Marc Webb

Would 10/10 die for this

I've got a quick question

I have an idea for a blood bender!reader x tasm!peter parker, would anybody be interested in this?

When I tell you I am OBSESSED with this like she’s everything and so cute? I love her? And Peter punching that jerk in the face for her? Just bury me and write on my tombstone that this was my cause of death

Here Comes the Sun 2/3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Summary: Peter somehow is roped into a second date with Miss Sunshine. Why is it everything she does

Warnings: AFAB!reader, language, talk and description of depression and anxiety.

"So how was your date?" May asked. 

Peter didn't know why he thought May would say anything else when he walked in. He was hoping he could avoid it. Avoid talking about his date with Miss Sunshine. 

It was bad enough that she had started sending him good morning texts. Peter didn't understand how anyone had enough energy at six in the morning to send texts filled with emojis and a daily fun fact. 

Though he was finding the facts interesting. 

"It was alright," Peter shrugged as he continued to help unload the groceries. 

"Just alright?" May asked. Peter nodded his head. He could feel her stare burning into his skin. 

"Wow Peter, she must be pretty alright if you're going on another date tomorrow." 

"How did you-" 

May just smiled, "She told me. I asked her how the date went last night, figuring I'd get a more honest response." 

"Somehow she's never been to the night market in Queens. I'm just doing my duty as a resident to fix that," Peter explained. It was the truth. He wasn't doing this because he had a crush on her or anything. That would be ridiculous. 

Right? 

May shook her head, the smile remaining on her face, "I knew you two would get along."  

"We do not get along. I tolerate her and she thinks every other thing I say is funny," Peter defended. 

"Sounds like you tolerate her enough to spend more time with her." Peter wanted to say something snarky, something defensive in response to May's comment. 

But his mind was drawing a blank. So he just continued unloading the groceries and putting them away in the kitchen. 

"She's very pretty, isn't she?" May didn't even wait for Peter to respond. His red face was enough. Peter ignored her, hoping that would be enough to silence her. 

"You two would have the cutest kids. Especially if they get your hair and her eyes." 

"May, are-are you s-serious?" Peter sputtered, "We've been on one date!" 

“Well you’re gonna have to start thinking about it sooner or later Peter. I’m not gonna be young forever and I’d like to at least play with your kids." 

"I'm not responding to this," Peter muttered as he put the milk away. He stuck his head in the fridge, hoping the cool air would bring his body temperature back down to a reasonable level. 

He also hoped it would distract him from the image he had of a small child with soft brown hair and bright, familiar eyes that had popped into his head and was refusing to go away. 

"It's really warm out," Peter commented as he closed the door to the fridge. 

"Peter, it's sixty five degrees," May remarked. 

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How did he get here? 

Peter kept asking himself that as he walked up to her door. He had agreed to meet her at her place this time. 

What was he doing? He couldn't remember the last time he went on a second date. What were you even supposed to talk about? Why did it feel like there was more pressure now compared to the first? 

No, it couldn't be pressure he was feeling. Because feeling pressured would imply that he was nervous, that he wanted the date to go well. 

And that wasn't definitely not the case. It was probably something he ate. Maybe even May's cooking. She probably got distracted from talking about Miss Sunshine so much and didn't cook the meat all the way. 

Maybe he would get sick and he could leave early. 

Peter knocked on the door to her apartment. Within (what felt like) seconds, the door opened to reveal the dreaded woman of the hour. 

"Y-you l-look nice," Peter said before he could stop himself. It was just a pair of overalls and a T-shirt. It made no sense for Peter to be thinking about how pretty she looked. 

Granted, he could acknowledge she was pretty, right? Acknowledging you found someone good-looking doesn't mean you liked them. 

Right? 

She smiled, "Thanks. You shaved!" 

Peter put his hand on his cheek upon hearing the observation, nodding his head. He figured it was time for a haircut and a shave. It was bothering him. 

That was all. Nothing more.   

"You look good. Both shaved and unshaved," She quickly added. 

"Thanks," Peter mumbled, his hand finding its way to the back of his neck. He was hoping that by wearing a T- shirt, he wouldn't feel so warm. 

It wasn't working. 

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"So how is it you've never been here before?" Peter asked. The two were walking around the night market, taking in all the sights. Her eyes were perpetually widened ever since they arrived. 

She looked at him, shrugging, "I've only lived in the city for about three years now. And out of those three years, two of them were spent on just trying to get a fresh start and adjust." 

"A fresh start?" Peter found himself asking. She nodded her head. 

"I'll spare you the details-unless you're truly curious- but before moving here," She sighed, "I was working at a toxic, shitty place and on top of that was in a shitty relationship." 

"Oh," Peter was stumped at how she talked about it so casually. 

"Yeah, those two years I was telling you about? Where I didn't want to smile? Was too busy debating whether to crash my car on the way to work. It got to the point that I…quit my job, broke things off with my ex and asked my Aunt if I could live with her until I got back on my feet. And you know, went through a lot of therapy." She stopped walking to look at Peter, "I'm sorry, that was a lot of information to dump on you all at once." 

"No, it's…it's okay," Peter gave a small smile, hoping to reassure her. 

 He was jealous. Jealous of how she was able to talk about it so casually, like it weighed nothing. Like it didn't keep her up at night. Like it didn't affect every single decision she made. Didn't weigh on everything she did, every move she made. 

"Thanks," She smiled back, "Wanna go check out this Arepa stand?" 

It was like she knew that he needed a distraction. She motioned towards the vendor. Peter nodded, catching up with her. Not wanting to lose her (and face May's wrath as a result), he grabbed her closest hand.  

She stopped moving, looking down at Peter's hand and then back up to him. A small, knowing smile began to form on her face. 

"I forgot to bring the kid leash." Peter explained, as if that was sufficient. It should have been, in Peter's mind. 

"Okay," except the sly smile on her face was telling Peter she didn't believe him. 

"Look, I wouldn't have to worry if someone had eaten all their vegetables and grown a few extra inches." 

"You can't find me with that giraffe neck of your's?" She remarked back. 

Peter stopped, putting a hand over his heart, feigning shock and offense.  

"What if I told you I was super self conscious about that? I thought you were supposed to be sweet." He was unable to contain the grin on his face. 

She leaned in (or in her case, up) to Peter, "Who says something sweet can't have a little bite to it?" 

Peter felt hot all over his body. He looked down at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact.    

"You're really cute when you're flustered," Sunshine giggled. 

Nope, that was it. Peter had to put an end to this now. 

"I….I'm not flustered!" Was the best he could come up with.  

"Whatever you say, Parker. Now let's get an Arepa!" She began walking with him, still holding his hand. 

"You do not make me flustered," Peter mumbled, kicking a nearby rock. 

"I just make you feel hot and fuzzy inside, right?" Peter stopped dead in his tracks. How did she know?  

As if Miss Sunshine could read his mind, she remarked, "I feel the same way. Even when you're being Mr. Grumpy Gills."  

"Mr. Grumpy Gills? That's the best you can do, Miss Sunshine?"   

"It's what we call the stuffed fish we have in my classroom when we talk about different feelings," She explained, hiding her smile at his nickname for her. 

He could leave now. He could make up some excuse. Or Peter could just bolt out of there-wouldn't be the first time. He could leave and never speak to her again. 

He could go home, back to his apartment. Back to dodging dates from May. 

Back to being alone. 

Normally, that thought wouldn't bother Peter. He had become used to it. It was familiar, normal for him. It was safe. 

Not being alone for one night couldn't hurt. Right? 

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"These questions are all horrible," Peter laughed before taking a sip of his drink. 

"That's because you refuse to answer them!" She giggled, motioning to her phone. The two were sitting down, eating their Arepas. She had suggested twenty questions, as a way to learn more about each other.  

Of course, he found something wrong with the questions. Too deep. Too shallow. Too ridiculous. Too confusing. 

"Alright, I think I have one," She put her phone away, "Do you have names picked out for your kids? Like what would you want to name them?" 

"Why do you keep asking questions related to parenthood?" Peter asked. 

"Because it's important to me, and I see you smile whenever the idea of kids are brought up." 

Peter rolled his eyes, though the smile remained on his face. It disappeared once he realized that he had never thought about that. After Gwen….he assumed that opportunity was gone. 

Gwen. 

He braced himself for the gut wrenching feeling that would start in the pit of his stomach, then bubble up to his chest and throat-

"You okay?" Peter snapped out of his thoughts as soon as he felt her hand on his wrist. 

"Huh? Yeah, yeah…just never uh…thought about it," He quickly explained. 

Huh. That feeling was gone now. That was new. 

She smiled gently, "I can go first?" Peter nodded his head. 

"If I had a girl, I would name her Sophia. Call her Sophie as her nickname. Call her Sophie-Soph when she's a baby and a teenager," She grinned. 

"She's gonna hate that as a teenager, you know." 

"I'm aware. It's how I'll embarrass her when she's a moody teenager. You gotta start thinking of how you'll embarrass them!" She tapped a finger to her temple, earning a laugh out of Peter. It was then Peter noticed that whenever he laughed, her nose would scrunch up and the corners of her eyes would crinkle. 

Weird. 

After the laughter settled down, Peter spoke softly. 

"Benjamin." 

"Hmm?" She looked at him, as if she couldn't believe he actually gave her an answer. 

"If I had a son, I'd name him Benjamin….after my Uncle," He said softly.

She nodded her head, her eyes sad despite the smile on her face. Peter figured if she knew May, she knew what had happened. Or had been told the non-Spiderman version. 

"I've always liked that tradition," She said softly. 

She was good about comforting and assuring people. Peter would give her that. 

"Next question?" He asked, trying to force some lightness into his voice. 

"Favorite ice cream flavor." 

"These questions are all over the place." 

"I'm following up a deeper question with a lighter question! Now what's your favorite flavor? I went first last time, so it's your turn." 

"Raspberry sorbet." 

She snorted, "that's not ice cream." 

"It's close enough. Besides, you probably think mint chocolate chip is good." 

Her silence as she looked down told Peter the answer. He was about to make another joke when he noticed the shift in her body language. The smile was gone and her eyes were narrow and hard. He knew that look. 

A memory had been brought up. One that unpleasant and she'd rather not think about.

"Hey," Peter said, his voice now soft, "Sorry about that. I can see why folks like it, it just reminds me too much of toothpaste. But I shouldn't have been a dick about it." 

She giggled, the light slowly returning to her eyes, "Sorry, my….my ex gave me shit for that all the time." 

"He gave you shit over your favorite ice cream flavor?" Peter knew he wasn't perfect, he wasn't the living embodiment of joy. But he wasn't that bad. 

"He gave me shit for a lot of dumb things. And then would comment on how it made him sad that I had such low self-esteem," The chuckle she let out was bitter and cold.

"Wow that is….some strong cognitive dissonance right there," Peter paused, "I'm glad he's your ex." 

She looked at Peter, a soft smile on her face, "Me too. But he's part of the reason I spent my first two years in the city in therapy rather than going out and exploring. I had to figure out why I stuck with someone like that for so long." 

"And now you're on a date with me?" Peter blurted out. He wasn't trying to be mean. He was just confused why the living embodiment of sunshine was on a second date with him. 

"You're not a jerk, you're just guarded."

"I thought I was Mr. Grumpy Gills?" He said, wiggling his eyebrows, which got a genuine laugh out of her. 

"Again, you're not a jerk about it. I mean, besides that one time at the very beginning of our first date. But then you stopped," She said, smiling at the memory. 

"Well, I still feel like I was a jerk back there about your favorite ice cream flavor. So can I get you some to make it up?" He asked. 

"I would love that!"   

"You gonna stay in that spot?" Peter asked, grinning. 

"Pinky promise," She held out her pinky,  "What? It's a big deal in first grade."

"Yeah, I remember. That's probably the last time I did one." She continued to hold out her pinky, her bright eyes on Peter. 

"Fine," Peter mumbled, gently hooking his pinky around her's, "But only because I forgot to bring a balloon to tie to you." 

"I need you to know that I only tolerate your short jokes because they're clever," She told him, leaning in. 

"Oh please, like I would use 'what it's like down there'. I hope you think better of me than that." 

She leaned in, the scene of lavender filling Peter's nostrils, "I do." 

"Oh."

Peter lingered, his pinky still wrapped around her's. It was then he noticed how soft her lips looked. Which, in Peter's mind, was a weird thing for him to notice. Why did it matter if her lips looked soft? 

He needed to get up. All that sitting was doing something weird to his brain. 

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Peter turned around, ice cream in hand.

She had stayed in her spot, but she wasn't alone.   

Some random guy was standing next to her, trying to strike up a conversation. Her body language had totally shifted.       

It was cold, her eyes narrowed and looking away, avoiding eye contact. 

Through the crowd, her eyes found Peter's. He knew that look. He had seen it too many times while out on patrol. 

Help.

He was pretty sure he dropped the cup of ice cream. Not that he cared. His eyes were locked on her, refusing to look anywhere else. His stomach was all in knots. 

It lurched when that piece of shit gripped her arm when she tried to walk towards Peter. He knew where this was going. He had stumbled upon that ending one too many times late at night, the visceral image seared into his brain. 

That was not going to happen to her. 

Peter ran, all but shoving people out of the way. He caught a glimpse of the frightened look on her face and that was enough to justify grabbing the creep by the neck of his sweater and throwing him to the ground. 

"Touch her again and I won't be as nice next time," He spat, turning towards her. 

Peter softened when he saw how her hands were shaking."Are you okay?" He asked her. He reached his arms towards her, ready to pull her in and never let go, when the hairs on his neck stood up. 

Peter turned around, thankful his right hand was still balled into a fist. He pulled that arm back, releasing it as he turned around. His fist made perfect contact with the creep's jaw. In a way, Peter was thankful for the terror that was coursing through his veins. It was the only thing that was holding him back from using all his enhanced strength. Sending the guy right back to the ground was enough. 

"When I said I wouldn't be as nice, I meant I'd break ya fucking neck!" He stepped forward, ready to lunge at him, when a small, soft hand grabbed his wrist. 

"C'mon, let's get out of here, okay?" Her voice told him. 

Peter didn't remember moving to a more secluded spot. His brain was too busy playing images of what could have happened to her-had he not gotten there in time- over and over again. Every scenario that was played ended in him being responsible for her spilled blood. 

The air felt heavy, the weight making it nearly impossible to breathe. His heart was thumping against his chest. 

Peter wanted to sit down. But also stand up. He felt like he was going to throw up. He leaned over, his hands now on his knees. It felt like he was drowning, desperate to reach out for anything-

"Peter?" He looked up towards the calm, steady voice. 

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Peter repeated over and over. He couldn't trust his own eyes. 

"Peter, I'm fine. You saved me back there." 

"I saved you?" Peter had a hard time believing it. 

"Yeah, you saved me. And then you almost broke that dude's jaw, which I honestly don't blame you, I was ready to-"

"I saved you?" She tilted her head in confusion at his question. Then her eyes softened. She didn't know the whole story, the truth of what actually happened at the clock tower. But even with the official cover version, it became clear why he was having a hard time believing it. 

"Yes, I'm fine. See?" She took one of his shaking hands and put it over her chest. He could feel it beating, confirming his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. 

"Your heart's beating fast," He whispered, his eyes locked on the hand she was holding.

"Because I'm worried about you. You're having a panic attack," She said calmly. 

"H-how do you know?" 

"Because I used to have them all the time. I mean, I still get them occasionally," she explained, like it was no big deal. Like Peter didn't feel like he was dying.      

"Just breathe with me, okay? You want me to tell you a story to distract you? Sometimes that helps me." Peter nodded his head at her offering. 

"Alright, geeze what story," She looked down, trying to think, "Oh!" Her eyes immediately lit up. Peter was certain if she was a cartoon, a lit lightbulb would have appeared over her head. 

"So, when I was five, I had a huge obsession with mermaids. Like any movie or book that had to do with mermaids, I consumed it. So at the beach my family went to, there was this women's boutique. Like, think beachwear your fifty year old Aunt from Jersey would wear." Peter found himself chuckling at the description. 

"So the store was called the Mermaid's Jewel and I would beg to go there. Not for the clothes. My mom and Aunts hated the clothes there, they thought they were so tacky. But I begged to go because it had Mermaid in the name and outside of the store was this really gaudy statue of a mermaid. I'd talk about the store so much, my family started calling me MJ. And that's how I got my nickname. Well, at least my family's nickname." 

Peter smiled, "MJ, huh?" She nodded her head. 

It was then Peter noticed that he could actually take in a breath of air without feeling like he was suffocating. He looked down and saw that his hand was still placed over her chest. He quickly pulled away, hoping that by looking away she couldn't see how red his face had become. 

"How ya feeling?" She asked, "Better?" 

"Yeah, you're…..you're really good at that," He admitted. Usually when that happened, he would just sit or lie down until the feelings passed. Sometimes it would take minutes. Sometimes it would take up to an hour.  

Peter didn't know how much time had passed since punching the rando and the end of her story. But he didn't care. 

"Thanks. I mean, I just did what I like to do when I have them. Everyone's different. I'm honestly surprised you let me touch you," She admitted. Peter didn't blame her. He hadn't been the most affectionate. 

Besides holding her hand. And that was just to make sure she didn't get lost. 

"Do you…..wanna get out of here? We can go back to my place?" She offered. 

"You….you still want to continue this date?" Peter blurted out. As soon as he said it, he knew how ridiculous it sounded. Miss Sunshine just coached him through all that. If she wanted to leave, the time to do so would have been when Peter was punching that creep. Or when they went to a more  secluded spot. Or when he was too busy trying to find a spot on the ground to focus on so he wouldn't dry heave. 

"That….that was dumb. Of me to ask! You're not dumb, far from it. That's the quickest I've gotten through one of those, those uh-"

"Panic attacks?" 

"Yeah." Realization then hit Peter like a freight train. 

"I dropped your ice cream." 

She laughed, despite the hint of sadness in her eyes. She took his hands into her's. It was then Peter realized that despite her hands being much smaller, they fit pretty well with his. 

Odd. 

"It's okay. I think I now owe you some ice cream." She laughed softly, bringing a smile to Peter's face. 

"I passed a bodega on the way to your place. We could stop there?" Peter suggested. 

"I'd like that," She nodded. Peter grabbed her hand as they began walking. 

Not because he thought he'd lose her. 

It was just nice. 

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"No, put it back." Peter ordered. A pout formed on her face, one that she probably learned from her students. 

"We came in for one thing! Ice cream, remember?" He motioned towards the basket he was carrying. Peter got a basket specifically because they were only there for one thing. 

"The pretzels are for the ice cream!" She explained, holding the bag up. 

"Pretzels would go terrible with mint chocolate chip and raspberry sorbet," Peter retorted. 

"They go great with chocolate chip cookie dough." 

"We don't have…." She motioned towards the basket. Peter looked down. To his surprise, a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough was there. He looked back at her, confused and also impressed. 

"How did you….." She giggled. Peter hated it. One person shouldn't be that fucking cute. 

"I'm sneaky like that." She shrugged with a coy smile, putting the bag of pretzels in the basket as she walked by Peter. 

"We're checking out now," He told her, despite knowing it would fall on deaf ears. 

"I need pizza rolls," She explained, like it was clear as day. 

"We did not come here for pizza rolls!" Peter felt like he was talking to a child. 

Why did he agree to this? 

"Ayyo!" The owner of the Bodega called from the register, "If ya lady wants pizza rolls, let'er get 'em!" 

"Oh, um she sh-she isn't m-my-" Peter tried to get out, his face bright red. 

"Thank you!" Sunshine called out before turning to Peter, "We should listen to Al, he's pretty great and wise." 

"Because he knows that once you put some pizza rolls in the basket, you're gonna get like five other things and then I'll have to get a cart!" He whispered, not wanting to face Al's scolding. 

After several minutes of whisper arguing, Peter and the little sassy ball of sunshine were at the cash register, letting Al ring up way more than one item. 

Al smirked, pointing to her while looking at Peter, "Ya learnin' quickly. She may look sweet but ya girl's a feisty one."

"She i-is…I mean, I-I'm-" Peter tried to get out. 

"He is learning quickly Al!" She said with a grin that Peter wanted to wipe off her face. Whether he wanted to accomplish that with his sleeves or another part of his body-

Why would he want to do that? Oh fuck. Did he want to do that? 

No. He didn't. Right? 

"He seems like'a good egg for ya" Al said to her. She nodded her head, running a hand up and down Peter's arm. The touch sent a chill up his spine. 

Why did this Bodega insist on making the store so cold? 

Peter grabbed the shopping bags, trying (and failing) to hide his flustered face. 

"He is," She said, motioning to Peter, "Have a good night Al!" 

"Do you know how infuriating you are?" Peter asked as soon as they were outside of the Bodega. 

"Are you that upset he thought I was 'ya lady's?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Despite the body language, her face was relaxed. Just a raised eyebrow to indicate how curious she was to hear Peter's response. 

It was aggravating. 

"No!" Peter stopped, realizing now he has to actually think about why he was so frustrated. 

It was her, it had to be. She was so grating with her sweet, calm voice. So repulsing with her cuffed overalls, that had a stray flower sticking out from one of the pockets. So unbearable with her soft skin, kind eyes, calming nature, kissable lips-

Kissable? What an inaccurate adjective to describe her lips. They were soft (well they looked soft), and always tinted with a soft rosy hue. She did this odd thing where she'd bit her bottom lip when she was deep in concentration-

"Are you even listening or did you get lost in my eyes again?" Her words snapped Peter out of the daze her horrible, lavender perfume put him in. 

"I do not get lost in your eyes," Peter sputtered, thrown in the air out of exasperation. 

"Oh what? You space out and it happens to consistently land on my eyes when you face me at any angle?" She snorted. 

"Okay, so I look at your eyes sometimes! Eye contact is very important, or so they told me! I don't just look at your eyes-"

"Sometimes you look at my lips. I'll give you that too." She shrugged. 

"I do not…y-you are insinuating a lot here, Little Miss Sunshine!" 

"I think you're trying to insinuate I'm not your type. Which is hilarious considering how you look at me and hold my hand!" Peter began to walk away, but then she had to make a comment about him holding her hand and he turned around. 

"I hold your hand like anyone who forgot the human leash would!" 

"Oh, they squeeze the hand without thinking about it and brush their thumb back and forth?" 

"Y-You are s-so small and in-infuriating!" He managed to get out. 

Miss Sunshine leaned in, her lips dangerously close to his, "Really? You seem to like it a lot, Peter." 

The only way to shut her up, the only way to wipe that smirk off her face, was to kiss her. Simple as that. It was just a way to get her to-

Who the fuck was he kidding? 

Her lips were soft. They tasted like vanilla. First she smelled great, now she tasted great too? Peter needed to find out where she got the audacity. 

After he was done kissing her. 

She broke away to collect air. The smirk was still on her face. His hands were still cradling her neck.  

"Wipe that smirk off your face." 

"Make me." 

Kissing her was the best course of action. Besides, it felt really good when Miss Sunshine weaved her hands through his hair.  

✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓

Somehow, they got back to her apartment. It took everything it had in Peter not to reveal his alter ego so he could pick her up and swing her back. 

It was rusty at first. The mechanics a distant memory. Soon it became familiar once again, like riding a bike for the first time in years. 

She somehow managed to put the plastic bags somewhere in her apartment. That was pretty impressive considering Peter was pressing her up against the kitchen wall. 

They broke away for oxygen, her hair tickling Peter's chin as she buried her face into his chest. 

The scent of her conditioner smelled of mint and rosemary. It was the cool scent that brought him out of the mile-high cloud he was in. 

He was kissing her. 

He. Was. Kissing. Her. 

Oh God, what was he doing? 

He stumbled backwards, letting go of her. He took in the sight of her, gasping for air and gripping the counter. 

Horror washed over him. No, this wasn't supposed to happen. He never intended to get this far. He never let it get this far, what had he done? 

"W-we can stop," She suggested, her voice small, "I k-know it's been awhile for-"

"You don't know me." It was true, not malicious. She didn't know him. She didn't know about what he had truly seen, what plagued his mind. What he did at night. 

She didn't know any of those things. So why was he doing this with her? 

"It's only our second date," She explained, her confidence faltering with each spoken word. 

"Then why are we doing this?" He whispered, trying to make sense of it. He had spent years successfully avoiding this. The last time he had genuinely done this was with-

No. That couldn't be it. That was impossible. Because he didn't deserve that and had accepted that long ago.

"Be-because we like each other?" She tried to make it sound like it was obvious. But by the way her eyes were dullening, she thought otherwise. 

"This was a mistake. I'm sorry. I-I….I never wanted to hurt you," the part was true. It was why he had been avoiding being in this situation for almost a decade. 

She scoffed, "if you're doing what I think you're doing…."

"I gotta go. I-I'm s-so sorry." 

He heard her call his name. He just ran out the door, desperate to get out and away. His breathing was shallow, coming out in short gasps. He wanted to vomit. He was suffocating-

Right. She called them panic attacks. 

He got back to his apartment, quickly putting on his masked vigilante ensemble. He could clear his head, he had to when he put on the mask. 

Peter swung around, desperate for a distraction. He noticed an odd, glowing light coming from an alley. He swung down, thankful for the interruption. 

He walked towards the light, it looking almost like a window with the way the source flickered. Each time he thought he was getting closer, he felt like he was moving further away from the alley. 

As he stepped through, his stomach, every bone in his body lurched forward. He felt sick, like he was on a rollercoaster. The sensation lasted both briefly and for what felt like an eternity. 

When he opened his eyes (when did he close them?), He was back in the alleyway. He slowly swung out, trying to keep his presence hidden. 

Something was off. Way off. 

It wasn't just the alert system that sent shockwaves through his body, a sensation due to a Spider bite he received years ago. 

It was the off-putting, mildly disorienting feeling you received when you saw a well known logos in the wrong color or font. 

It was New York City. 

But it wasn't his city. 

His attempt to take in all the differences was cut off when the hairs on the back of his neck pointed him towards the left. 

Peter turned, raising his hand out in time to catch a brick that was targeted towards his head. 

He heard his name called. Spider-Man. Parker. Peter. 

How would they know? That was impossible. 

"You think a new suit will make us forget about what you did to Mysterio?" An angry voice called out. 

Who the hell was Mysterio? 

Peter swung out of the way, needing to get further up between the buildings, away from the crowds. 

He pulled out his phone, repeating the ten digits of May's number in his head as the call went dead every time. 

Something was wrong. Awfully wrong.

He was in New York City. 

And yet he wasn't. 

And the face on the huge digital televisions in Times Square. The face the news had attached to his name. Peter Parker. 

That was not him. 

What the fuck was going on? 

XOXOPETER’S MASTERLIST

I do not give permission for any of my works to be reposted. At this point I only have Andrew Garfield Spider-Man works but that’s subject to change. 

Last updated 2/16

ONE-SHOTS

BLURBS

- The reader gets Peter flowers for Valentines Day (fluff)

STORIES

- The Adventures of Spider-Man and Moonlight

The Sun is a Blue Moon (Part 2)

A/N: here’s part two of the sun is a blue moon! I wrote this once and hated it about 3k in so I scrapped it and started over and I’m waaaay happier with how it came out than what I originally had planned. Oh and it ended up all being from Peters third person view somehow??? yeah idk. I hope y’all like it <3

Summary: “Only the gentle are ever really strong.” - James Dean

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: violence, blood, injuries, fighting, battle, anxiety, panic, fearing the death of a loved one, gried, sadness, death

Playlist: End of the World by Nightriots

             Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe, FINNEAS

             As the World Caves in by Sarah Cothran

read part one here

Peter looked back to his notes, checking to make sure his measurements were correct before adding the white cap into the potion, the bubbling encouraging him further. He observed the reaction before picking up his pen and jotting down what he saw on the marked up page, his pinkie smudging the still drying inscriptions on the line above. He adjusted his glasses before continuing on with his work, his mind wandering to y/n who was currently in care of magical creatures while he was in his free period, working on his own potions. His eyes flashed down to the small daffodil colored yarn bracelet that was woven in with white yarn that she had made for him. Everyone in their group had gotten one that she made them in their house color except him. He was special and got her house color. Her glowing face filled his mind and he couldn’t help but smile a little. 

Peter Parker was in love. 

Keep reading

The Sun is a Blue Moon (Part 2)

A/N: here’s part two of the sun is a blue moon! I wrote this once and hated it about 3k in so I scrapped it and started over and I’m waaaay happier with how it came out than what I originally had planned. Oh and it ended up all being from Peters third person view somehow??? yeah idk. I hope y’all like it <3

Summary: “Only the gentle are ever really strong.” - James Dean

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: violence, blood, injuries, fighting, battle, anxiety, panic, fearing the death of a loved one, gried, sadness, death

Playlist: End of the World by Nightriots

             Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe, FINNEAS

             As the World Caves in by Sarah Cothran

read part one here

Peter looked back to his notes, checking to make sure his measurements were correct before adding the white cap into the potion, the bubbling encouraging him further. He observed the reaction before picking up his pen and jotting down what he saw on the marked up page, his pinkie smudging the still drying inscriptions on the line above. He adjusted his glasses before continuing on with his work, his mind wandering to y/n who was currently in care of magical creatures while he was in his free period, working on his own potions. His eyes flashed down to the small daffodil colored yarn bracelet that was woven in with white yarn that she had made for him. Everyone in their group had gotten one that she made them in their house color except him. He was special and got her house color. Her glowing face filled his mind and he couldn’t help but smile a little. 

Peter Parker was in love. 

Keep reading

HIII!! I saw that you requests are open so here is mine :D What if reader got Peter flowers? <333

A/N: I love this! lets pretend I posted this yesterday on Valentine's day lol

Love, Sunshine, and Beauty

Peter was a really kind and thoughtful boyfriend. He always did like things for y/n like leaving little notes for her to find while he was on patrol and she had just gotten home from work. One time he left a small flower that he must have picked from the bush outside on the soap holder in the shower. He was always doing things to make her smile and know that he thought about her and wanted to make her smile, even if he wasn't there to see it. Being Spider-Man made him miss out on some things that he wished he could be there for like the birthday party she had last year that her best friend threw her at a bar in Brooklyn. It being at night, Peter wasn't able to make it and she understood but it bothered him a lot that he wasn't there for his girlfriends birthday party. That was when the little things had started and y/n adored them more than Peter knew. So when Valentine's day came around, she realized that this was her chance to do something sweet for Peter like he often did for her.

She'd never bought flowers before, especially not for a man so she wasn't sure what to get. She wandered around the grocery store looking at the tons of different arrangements they had but none of them stood out to her until she came across a bouquet of sunflowers, red roses, and daisies. They all meant something that was so true to Peter. It was perfect.

Their shared apartment was empty when she got home and she knew Peter was most likely at the lab still. They had early dinner plans for Valentine's day so he would be home shortly.

After putting the bouquet in a vase with some water, she left it on the counter that faced the front door with a card that she propped up to stand and a small box of chocolates before getting in the shower.

Peter closed the front door behind him, hearing the shower and knowing y/n was in it. They had dinner plans shortly and he couldn't wait to take her to the restaurant. It was where they had their first date two years ago and also the same place she had told him she loved him for the first time just a few months later.

He looked up and stopped in his tracks.

On the kitchen counter was a vase with different flowers. At first, he immediately thought that someone else had given them to her before he had a chance to give her the roses he had in had in his hand, but then he saw the propped card with his name on it.

He dropped his backpack on the empty counter space and picked up the card and opened it.

Peter, Happy Valentines day, my love. I know men don't usually receive flowers, even on v-day but I wanted to give you back some of the beauty you give to me every day. The roses are for how much I love you, the sunflowers are for the sunshine you bring into my life, and the daisies are for the beauty that is you. I love you endlessly.

                                                                  -love, y/n

Peter smiled wide and kissed the card before setting it down and taking in the flowers, seeing her meaning in each type. He knew how lucky he was to be love by her and he felt her love with the gesture and with the beautiful flowers. He was saddened that he wouldn't be able to keep them forever. Maybe he could have one of each pressed and framed. He would have to look into that before they died.

The sound of the shower stopping had him moving and he was coming into the bedroom at the same time y/n was getting out with a towel around her.

"Hey, babe." She beamed. "Happy Valentine's."

He pulled the bouquet of roses out from behind his back, his face partially hidden by them and a smile a mile wide pulling his at his lips.

"Peter." She cooed, taking them. "These are gorgeous."

"Happy Valentine's day, baby."

"Did you see yours?" She asked hopefully.

"No one's ever gotten me flowers before and I love them." He kissed her cheek, thinking back to the arrangement that was sitting on the kitchen counter fondly.

A year later, y/n walked down the aisle with a bouquet of red roses, sunflowers, and daisies.