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w1nters-child · 2 years

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Screaming. Crying. 🧎🏻‍♀️

57 + jake lockey <3 omg, i'm so excited for this!

ˣ pairing: jake lockley x reader

ˣ prompt: “oh my god, do that again.”

ˣ warnings: 1.3k wc. explicit smut and language. public oral sex (m receiving), deep throating. mention of alcohol.

ˣ a/n: here’s the first prompt request for my 500 followers celebration yaay! a new drabble will be posted each day in the next few weeks so stick around for more :) tysm again for all the love & support friends! this wouldn’t have been possible without you guys 💕

- ☾-

It had all begun with a shot of tequila and a slice of lime.

Then one shot turns into two. Later, three.

You ended up losing count after the fourth one, but you’re damn sure you stopped at six.

Jake just had to sneak in a seventh one, of course.

It was a great thing you could hold your liquor well. Drinking with Jake eventually led you to build up such an impressive tolerance for it. At times, you wonder if that’s the only reason he likes hanging out with you. He certainly enjoys being in the company of someone who can keep up with him, so it’s often that he drags you out to his favorite dive bar to let loose and have fun.

If it were any other person, you would have turned down an invite to get shit-faced all night long. But because it was Jake, there’s nothing that would stop you from agreeing to come with him. Not even the horrendous hangover you’d have to endure the morning after.

Only for Jake would you suffer through a hundred hangovers if it means getting to relax and unwind with your favorite man.

Seven shots down, and you’re still standing, albeit barely. Yeah, you could drink that much without passing out completely, though that doesn’t mean you’re not plastered at this point. You’re most definitely miles away from sobriety; the fiery tequila running through your veins makes you buzz with a familiar warmth.

That familiar warmth, however, had later turned into a desirous heat that pools low in your belly, intensified only by the pair of calloused hands teasingly roaming over your body.

You could blame it on the liquor. Hell, you could always blame it on the liquor. But that doesn’t erase the fact that you’ve been pining over your best friend for who knows how long.

Jake had been thankfully oblivious to your lingering stares and subtle touches. That was until tonight happened, and you simply couldn’t control yourself after seven shots.

You’d kissed him, hot and heavy and hungry—tasting the tequila he knocked back with you just seconds before on your tongue. The zesty bitter aftertaste of the lime had caused you to break away, your chest rising and falling to the beat of your erratic heart. Soon after, a wave of embarrassment flooded your features as an apology hung on your lips.

But then, without warning, Jake had pulled you right back in for another kiss.

Apparently, he liked you, too.

They say too much alcohol usually leads to a slew of bad decisions. You would’ve swiftly agreed with that statement, adding that bad decisions also started in a dingy restroom, where the tiled floor scrapes harshly under your knees.

You pray that no one would walk in and interrupt.

“Sure, you’re okay with this, mi vida?” Jake groans out while your nimble fingers fumble to unbuckle the belt of his jeans. “Could just take you home, you know? Fuck you there ‘til you’re screaming.”

“Oh, we can still do that later,” you purred, flickering your eyes to meet his obsidian ones. “But I wanna taste you, Jake. I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this. Please, let me suck your cock here, baby. I promise I’ll be good for you back home. Just let me make you feel good right now.”

Jake’s smirking wordlessly at you from above, and you take it as a sign to continue. He’s enraptured by the quickness of you undoing his pants, the sound of the zipper clicking apart echoing in the cramped cubicle. His mouth parts slightly, allowing shallow breaths to puff through when you reach inside, pulling him out of the confines of his boxers at last with a devilish curl to your smile.

You’d never seen a cock so beautiful, so thick and heavy as it lays throbbing hotly in your palm. You brush the pad of your thumb all over the engorged head, smearing the glorious pearly bead of precome that seeps from the slit of his rigid length.

A gravelly groan rips through Jake, and he throws his head back against the door. You haven’t done much other than barely touching him. Yet, he’s biting the edge of his lip to stifle the low grunts escaping. He gazes down on you through heavily lidded eyes, his stocky finger finding purchase in your hair. They grip on you tight as you tenderly stroke him from base to tip, swirling his tip delicately with your thumb with each pass.

Fuck, you hope you’d remember the blissful look on his face by the time you wake up tomorrow. Perhaps giving him a blowjob for the very first time while inebriated is the bad decision you’d been anticipating.

But it’s too late for you to back out now.

Not when Jake’s cock remains stiff in your grip, your name seamlessly rolling off his tongue as he needily coaxes you to do more.

“P-Please, cariño,” he rasps between ragged breaths. “Your mouth. I-I need your mou—oh, shiiit…”

The words die in Jake’s throat as you engulf his member slowly into your mouth. He tenses, your tongue tracing the pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft, his rich and velvet moans ringing in your ears. Warm lips wet and tight, they slide further down until you start to gag around his generous girth, sending choked exhales to the sex-charged air as tears singed the corners of your eyes.

Out of concern, Jake almost pushes you off of him until you soothingly rest a hand on his thigh, silently encouraging him to remain still. Relaxing your throat, you invite more of him deeper, fitting him entirely into your mouth and he mutters a litany of rumbling curses in his native Spanish.

“Fu-Fuck, baby… That’s it— that feels so good. You look so fucking pretty sucking my cock like that,” Jake grunts as you bob your head back and forth faster, then force your head all the way forward. Your nose buries into his groin for several beats, and a primal moan breaks free when you release him with a wet, obscene-sounding pop. “O-Oh, shit, amor... Oh my god, do that again... P-Please, do that again.”

Chuckling, you’re more than happy to oblige at the desperate request of Jake, whose unruly dark curls sweep across his sweaty forehead. His hips rock into you, letting his cock slide even further down your constricting throat. Your nostrils drown in his musky scent as a jolt of arousal sears fiercely through your body, overwhelmed by everything that is purely and intoxicatingly him.

It’s not long when his thrusts stutter and his pleading whines grow increasingly loud and frequent. He twitches in your mouth moments after, spurting bursts after bursts of his creamy, warm release that coats the back of your throat, and greedily you swallow all of it down.

“T-That was…” he trails off breathily, his body still shuddering from the aftershocks of his climax. “Damn, we should have done this a long time ago, huh?”

“Should have drank seven shots straight sometime earlier then,” you return teasingly as you wipe the glistening juices coating your mouth with the sleeve of your top.

Jake assists you back on your feet, though your unsteady gait has you leaning against him, his strong arms coming up to wrap your frame in a delicate embrace. You feel him press a gentle kiss on the top of your head as you wait for your hearts to settle to a calming rhythm.

“We’re not just friends anymore after this, right?” you hear him ask, and there’s a warm, hopeful tone in his voice.

“I guess not,” came your answer, giggling softly. “But whatever we are now, Jake— you still owe me one.”

- ☾-

taglist: @dopeqff @liaaacantwrite @raging-trash-of-mind @daydreamingchaos713 @tinysquirrrrelgirl @khonshus-wife @loonymagizoologist @thelaststraw3 @irethepotato @syrma-sensei @mad-malory @allthingsvicf @victoriaarantza @battaltt @juleslovesfics @j-n-h-p @mooonlight-and-stars @xcatnapsx @dailydoseofchoices @izbelross @mrs-holmes @avatar-of-procrastination @darthxochitl @doomsdaybby @jakelcckley @xdarkcreaturex @glitteringhippie @fleurated @eddie-munsons-gf @n0ripeaches @bxmxtx @elaine-spades @mona-has-friends @ghostlyreads

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moon knight masterlist

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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There is no slut shaming in this house, only slut encouragement

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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@marc-spectorr 💞

It’s need to know by doja cat!

tagging: @cwbucky

Song you’re vibing to right know. I’ll go first.

Rolling in the deep (Adele)

Tagging: @chupkaryashi @nokhushionlygam @baarisheinmp3 @fictionaloverreall @asextasis

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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And it’s definitely not heavily inspired the the king’s guard armor of Game of Thrones 🤷🏻‍♀️

Not me drawing Moon Knight as a real knight for an upcoming AU oneshot 👀

#moon knight #moon knight drawing #game of thrones

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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That moment when my fictional superhero boyfriends share their birth month.

Bucky Barnes : March 10, 1917.

Marc Spector : March 9, 1987.

Coincidence that I love them both? I don't think so.

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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The pics of him and Gary are melting my heart 😩😭

Callie, spare us an Oscar pic on this fine Friday morning? ☺️❤️

happy friday, my sweet!! i will happily treat you with this pic set of oscar + animals ✨💕

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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Not me drawing Moon Knight as a real knight for an upcoming AU oneshot 👀

#moon knight #moon knight drawing #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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You’re my path | Part 3

summary: Doctor Strange sends the alternate Peter Parkers back home, but something goes wrong. Now one of them gets the chance to do everything right in this universe.

pairings: Andrew!Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy

warnings: sadness

Peter sat on his bed and thought about how he should discuss this whole thing with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Because of his knowledge after the last events, he was almost sure that he was in a parallel universe. That would at least explain that new buildings he didn't know were in places he was used to, that he had a different password for his computer, and well.... Uncle Ben was alive.

If the Internet was to be believed, there had never been a Spider-Man. And that gnawed at Peter a lot. Not only because that meant he couldn't show up as his alter ego, but also because that meant Spider-Man's existence was tied to Ben's death. Peter Parker had never been bitten by a radioactive spider here and hadn't acted like a complete moron, which would have inevitably led to his uncle's death. Peter swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair.

But how to explain all this?

All the possibilities he ran through in his head were terribly insensitive and confusing. So he decided to just talk impulsively. He didn't know how to clarify something like this logically.

Fittingly, Ben was sitting in the kitchen with the morning paper while May was doing the dishes. He had to smile at the sight because it reminded him of home. May had never accepted help in the kitchen and Ben had just always acknowledged it with a grumble and then quietly read his newspaper. Peter didn't know if that should make him happy or sad that things were the same here as they had been in his universe, back when Ben was alive.

"Good morning", he greeted the two.

"Good morning, Peter. Would you like some coffee?".

May threw her dish towel over her shoulder and propped her hands on the back of one of the chairs.

"No, thanks. I-I wanted to talk to you", he replied carefully.

Ben gave him a questioning look over the page of the newspaper. With slightly shaking hands, Peter pulled back a chair and sat down. He would probably fall over again otherwise. Physically he was better than the day before, as expected, but he was terribly anxious about the upcoming conversation.

"I don't even know how to start", he muttered.

"You can tell us anything", May tried to spur him on.

He sighed, somehow this was already frustrating. How could they possibly ignore the fact that he was actually dead here? He loved the two of them and of course it was nice that he was so supported by them anyway. But strictly seen, they weren't even related to him. This realization hurt and made him bury his face in his hands for a moment. He firmly promised himself to take this as gently as he could.

"Okay, okay", the brunette puffed, "First of all, you should know that I am Spider-Man".

There was silence for a moment.

"Spider-Man?".

"Well, on the news they always say that's a woman", Ben said in surprise.

Peter slapped his hand against his forehead.

"No, listen to me. You're missing the point here completely".

"So Spider-Woman is not a woman?", asked Ben.

It slowly occurred to him that maybe he had started at the wrong point. Did they even take him seriously like that?

"I meant I'm Spider-Man back home".

May tilted her head a little and then sat down as well.

"But you're at home here".

Peter didn't have the guts to disagree with her on that. He thought about how he could get this conversation back on track.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. You both know there's something wrong here".

"I don't know what you're talking about", May replied in a gentle tone.

"I heard you talking yesterday, May", Peter sighed, "I know what you were talking about. And I also know that I-".

"Stop it," she begged a little louder, interrupting him, "You're fine and you're here with us and that's all that matters".

She tried to look composed and smiled at him. But Peter could clearly sense the tremor in her voice and also saw tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Perhaps she just didn't want to admit that her nephew was dead and was now clinging to that impossible idea.

"May", Ben now spoke up again, "let him finish".

Peter and Ben exchanged a meaningful look. Even though it was rather unlikely, he seemed to understand what was going on.

"I'm not who you think I am," Peter began again, but May shook her head.

"What? You are my Peter".

Now Peter had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting into tears. His heart was breaking.

"No, I'm not".

The brunette woman at his side put a hand on his arm and let out a sob that she had probably been holding back until now.

"Your Peter died. About a year ago, I read it on the Internet".

"That's not true!", she suddenly exclaimed, making him wince a little, "You're sitting here with me, after all".

He could now forget his actual tactic of making it all as gentle as possible. She cried bitterly and Ben finally got up to stand behind her and put his hands soothingly on her shoulders. Peter felt terribly guilty, but his "uncle" nodded at him.

"I know this is hard to deal with, and I'm still trying to figure it all out, too. But I think I'm from another universe".

Admittedly, no normal thinking person would believe such a thing. But it was the truth. She probably felt the same way Peter had felt when Ben had opened the door to him the day before. Losing a loved one was not easy. The man he was looking at looked just like his uncle, but really wasn't, only an alternate version of him. Just as he was another version of their Peter Parker.

"That's nonsense".

"I know, it sounds impossible", he put his hand on hers.

But to be honest, he couldn't think of any real arguments how he could convince her further. Especially not when she seemed so caught up in her grief.

"May, now be reasonable", Ben stroked her shoulders affectionately, "You were there yourself when we carried Peter to the grave."

That was probably enough for her, as May now got up without a word and left the two of them alone in the kitchen. Also the attempt to grasp her hand once more and to ask her to stay with it remained unsuccessful. A little later they could hear a door slamming into the lock.

"You have to forgive her, your death- Peter's death really affected her a lot."

"That means you believe me?".

Ben settled down next to him and took off his glasses, sighing.

"I don't really know what to believe, to be completely honest. I mean, don't hold it against me. But you're supposed to be from another universe?".

He laughed a little, Peter not quite sure if he should laugh along.

"But I know we buried our nephew. There's no way you- he survived," he said quietly.

Before, Peter had thought that maybe Ben wouldn't be happy to see him. Or that his death hadn't upset him as much. But it was quite the opposite. He was just being realistic. When he looked at it that way, he was kind of sorry for his hasty conclusions.

"But how did this all happen? What makes you think you're from another universe?".

"Long story, I just came from another.. another universe, and- well. It's all confusing to me too but I know it's real because I've experienced it myself", Peter grinned broadly, at Ben's expression, "And somehow not everything is the same as in the world I come from."

Ben seemed rather interested now, crossing his arms and leaning forward slightly.

"Oh yeah?".

The biggest difference, after all, was sitting right in front of him. Peter couldn't help but sob barely audibly every time he realized that.

"Hmm," he went on.

"Like what?".

Of course he had to ask that. He wished he hadn't brought it up.

"In my universe, you're dead".

Peter regretted saying this sentence even before it had completely left his mouth. And even more he regretted looking at Ben's face afterwards. On one hand, Peter didn't want to hear an answer. On the other hand, he wished Ben would say something, because he was just sitting there speechless and the silence was driving him crazy.

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered.

"It's not your fault, after all."

Those words stabbed him right in the heart. Ben had probably just wanted to cheer him up, and after all, he didn't know how wrong he was about that, but somehow it only made this situation worse.

"Yes it is, it's my fault! You were only killed because of ME!".

Peter slammed his fists on the tabletop, which had a crack in it afterwards, but he didn't care. He didn't know why he was bursting just at that moment. Probably these emotions that had been piled up for so long all needed to come out at once.

"And I could have stopped that guy. But I didn't, because I'm so fucking stupid".

It didn't keep him in the chair anymore, he jumped up and pulled his hair desperately while the words just kept pouring out of him. They were as unstoppable as his tears.

"Peter -".

Ben had also stood up and raised an arm soothingly.

"And I watched you die! You laid there and died in my arms because I didn't do anything about it".

"Peter!".

Peter's fingers rested trembling on his face and he continued to cry while Uncle Ben pulled him into a tight hug.

requests are open

#spider man #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #the amazing spider man #spider man: no way home #spider gwen #peter parker #andrew!peter parker

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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“I am not broken. I just need some help.” OSCAR ISAAC as Steven Grant Moon Knight (2022) Episode 2: Summon the Suit

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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You’re my path | Part 2

“He needs us now”.

summary: Doctor Strange sends the alternate Peter Parkers back home, but something goes wrong. Now one of them gets the chance to do everything right in this universe.

pairings: Andrew!Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy

warnings: sadness

Peter stared at his uncle with an open mouth. That was not possible at all.

"Uncle Ben, I -", he couldn't speak any further, his words stuck in his throat.

The very sight of Uncle Ben made everything inside him contract painfully, and he inevitably had to hold on to the doorframe with one hand. In disbelief, he averted his eyes from the man standing in front of him, only to fix his eyes on him again a few moments later.

Peter had so often wished to see his uncle again and tell him all the things he couldn't before he died and yet, now that he was able to, he just physically couldn't.

"Is it really you?", asked Ben finally after a long silence.

"What are you talking about?", Peter's throat felt like it was tightening, "What do you mean?".

And before he knew it, tears began to stream down his face. He hadn't seen his uncle, the man who raised him instead of his father, in so long. And the first thing he said to him was something like this?

The brunette didn't know how to act. Ben was standing in front of him and he didn't know why and how this could be even possible but he was also way too exhausted and emotional to think about it right now. He panted and wiped his face with the back of his hand. That was also the moment he realized that he probably should have taken off the suit before putting on the new clothes. But in his defense, he hadn't expected a big confrontation right at the doorstep. He quickly tucked it back into the pocket of his hoodie.

He would have liked to hug Ben and tell him how terribly sorry he was for his behavior that awful day and that it had all been his fault. He wanted him to know how many times he had lain awake thinking about how Ben would probably still be alive if he had stopped that shoplifter. But Ben was standing in front of him, after all?

As if it was the most normal thing in the world, he moved towards his counterpart, who, however, backed away from him. This dismissive reaction and the matching skeptical expression on his face almost broke Peter's heart and he felt even worse than before.

"May?!".

Peter opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn't want May to see him like this, but before he could do anything about it, the brunette woman had already appeared next to her husband. Through his heightened senses, Peter could see exactly how her pupils dilated and trembled slightly as she looked closely at him.

At first it looked like she was going to react just as suspiciously as Ben, but she just slapped a hand over her mouth and sobbed loudly.

"My boy," she whispered softly.

After all, she didn't think Peter was some weirdo who had shown up outside her apartment, and he was just unspeakably happy that at least she didn't approach him with loathing. Peter noticed how once again his cheeks were getting wet.

"You look like a mess", she murmured, reaching out her hand to grasp his left shoulder.

"Yeah, I feel like one, too".

The pressure was pleasant, even though she had hit what was probably a sore spot with it, he winced a little.

"Don't, May," Ben tried to pull her away from Peter, "Be careful, you don't know who this guy is."

Again a stab right to the heart, the brunette bit his tongue until he tasted blood in order to not let on how much this behavior hurt him. But May just shook her head and her hand moved from his shoulder to his cheek, where her thumb lovingly wiped away a tear.

"Don't be silly, Ben. I do recognize our Peter when he stands in front of me".

As much as Ben's words had hurt him, May's were a balm to his soul in return. When he drew in his breath with a sob, she probably couldn't hold on any longer either and pulled him into her arms.

Peter had desperately needed this embrace, it felt so good that he thought it could have lasted forever. Her hands on his back radiated a soothing warmth and he couldn't help but bury his face in her tender shoulder and breathe in her familiar scent. Peter didn't care what was going on for a moment, there was a certain consistency to this moment that felt like home.

"I'm sorry", he sighed.

He didn't know what exactly he was sorry for. He just felt the need to say it.

"I know", May replied, "It's okay."

She broke away from him to look at him again more closely. With a smile, she pushed his sweaty strands out of his forehead. Peter tried to concentrate to look at her too, but somehow it was suddenly so tremendously difficult for him.

"Are you all right?".

"Yeah, I - I'm just tired", his own voice suddenly sounded way too loud in his ears.

He was probably actually more exhausted than he had thought. Aunt May's worried face blurred before his eyes, everything went out of focus. He realized relatively late that he was swaying and could no longer manage to keep himself on both feet under his own power. It didn't help to make a desperate attempt to hold himself upright by the door frame, he banged his head against it and finally went down.

When Peter regained consciousness, he found himself on the little old couch in the living room. His temple and forehead just above his right eye were throbbing and although he knew it was a stupid idea, he couldn't help but reach for it. With a low grumble, he realized that this assumption was true - it hurt.

"Have you lost your mind? We can't just keep him here!".

Peter was sure that Ben and May were in the kitchen, with the door closed, but of course he could still hear them.

"I can't send him away again, Ben. He's our nephew, after all. Our boy!".

The corners of Peter's mouth twitched; this really was Aunt May.

"Are you really quite sure about that? He just appeared out of nowhere", Ben replied, sounding kind of... scared?

With a groan and aches in literally every imaginable part of his body, Peter tried to sit up, still having a hard time doing so. He really needed enough sleep in a real bed and although he longed for nothing as much as his worn-out, soft mattress - which he usually always ranted about - he didn't want to be a burden to them even more. Not now, when somehow everything was so inexplicably strange and confusing. That's why he tried to leave as quietly as possible and would probably find shelter in a hostel or something similar. There was money being the only problem, he realized with a sigh.

It took him a few tries before he managed to get up safely from the sofa without feeling like he was going to lose consciousness right away again.

"What the hell are you talking about? He needs us now".

May had apparently finished talking, because suddenly the door to the living room opened.

"Peter!", she exclaimed, "stay the hell down".

He grinned a little bitterly.

"Oh you know, I don't think that's a good idea. I can tell you guys are...well."

His aunt just looked at him in horror.

"Peter Parker. You have the choice, either you stay here and rest properly or your uncle will drive you to the hospital. And knowing you, I know you don't want that. So you stay."

And with that, it was decided, even though Ben still didn't quite look like he agreed. But May didn't seem to care at all, she grabbed Peter's arm and put it over her shoulder to support him a little. She slowly but surely guided him up and wrapped an arm around him while he braced himself against the railing with his free hand.

"I haven't changed it since you -".

Why May didn't continue was unknown to him, but it filled him with an incredible amount of joy to see his room and that it actually looked exactly as he had left it.

"I'll put some towels out for you, you probably want to take a shower".

"Oh yes", he nodded, "thank you."

As soon as May was out of his room, he stripped off his sweater and pants as fast as he could. Getting out of the suit in such pain was quite another task. It was worse than he had imagined. The fabric was partially stuck to dried wounds he hadn't known were even there before, and with limited movement, it took even longer to finally get it off. Panting, he tossed it into the closet and shut its door just barely before his aunt was back in the room.

"Oh my God, Peter", her voice trembled, "Are you sure you shouldn't see a doctor?".

Peter shook his head vehemently, "It's no big deal, really".

But he knew exactly how bad it looked.Burn wounds adorned his chest and wrists right where Max's lightning bolts had struck him, and the right side of his ribcage was littered with bruises that looked as painful as they felt.

"You've come home pretty beat up from fights before, but like this -".

"Please don't worry about it, May. After a shower and a good night's sleep, I'll be back to my old self".

But Peter just couldn't find any rest.

He had been lying awake in bed for hours, rolling around, which didn't really help his recovery.

Something was wrong and it bothered him enormously that his Spider-Sense didn't work this time. Uncle Ben had treated him like a madman and as if he didn't even recognize him, apart from the fact that he was supposed to be dead. As much as this fact devastated him.

Peter looked around his room, pushing his eyebrows together, trying to find anything that might give him a clue as to what still didn't fit together here. Sighing, he got up and walked over to his desk. He stared urgently at the bulletin board with all the photos he had taken himself, nothing.

"Hmm," he made thoughtfully and dropped into the chair.

Lost in thought, he turned on the ancient computer he had once received from his uncle. As usual, it took him half an eternity to get to the password request. Out of habit, he let his fingers dance over the keyboard and typed in the password he'd had ingrained in his head for years.

Password not correct.

"What?".

Had he made a typo, by any chance? He tried again.

Password not correct.

He couldn't have made a mistake again, the password was his father's date of birth. Had he probably changed it? Shaking his head, he tried another one.

Password not correct.

"That's not happening".

This time he thought a little longer. With a lump in his throat, he typed in Gwen's birth date.

And the computer was unlocked.

"Of course, Parker," he muttered, biting his lower lip as he launched the Internet browser.

He really needed to find out why his own family had reacted so strangely to him. And since he didn't expect them to just tell him, he could only think of one other possibility. One that he had already used a few days ago. And so he entered his name in the search bar.

But what he saw there shook him as much as what he had to read last time.

'Peter Parker dies in tragic accident'.

He didn't read that line just once. Over and over again his eyes flew over it, taking in each letter carefully to even understand what it said.

"What the hell is going on here?", he asked himself.

His fingers began to tremble and suddenly he felt incredibly hot. Now he understood why Ben was so suspicious of him. He thought he was dead. His breathing quickened and he had to concentrate on catching his breath at semi-regular intervals.

Unsure if he should put his thoughts into action, he deleted his name from the search bar again. With sweaty hands, he typed 'Spider-Man' instead and pressed enter.

The search results, while enormously confusing, brought him back from his beginning panic attack.

'Do you mean Spider-Woman?‘

"Wait- What?".

Next chapter

#spider man #spiderman #the amazing spider man #andrew!peter parker #peter parker #gwen stacy #andrew garfield #spider man: no way home #spider gwen

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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OSCAR ISAAC + period drama roles

The Nativity Story (2006) Agora (2009) Robin Hood (2010) In Secret (2013) At Eternity’s Gate (2018) The Promise (2016) For Greater Glory: The True Story of Cristiada (2012) Suburbicon (2017) Operation Finale (2018) Inside Llewyn Davis (2013) The Two Faces of January (2014) Che: Part One (2008) Balibo (2009) A Most Violent Year (2014)

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w1nters-child · 2 years

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You’re my path | Part 1

„He’s just a kid“.

summary: Doctor Strange sends the alternate Peter Parkers back home, but something goes wrong. Now one of them gets the chance to do everything right in this universe.

pairings: Andrew!Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy

warnings: none (at least in this chapter)

Peter didn't know what felt stranger. To dissolve or to materialize again in another place.

Even though it felt more like waking up from a very strange and very real dream, he was sure that he could still see his fingers manifesting before his eyes at the very last moment. He blinked a few times, raised his hands and lingered like this for a moment as if he was waiting to see if he would disappear again. But nothing happened.

Tired and totally exhausted, he took a deep breath after lowering his arms again, but had to stop haltingly on the exhale and hold his right side.

He didn't know if it was burns from electric shocks, a broken rib or a huge bruise that was causing this pain inside him but he wasn't really eager to find out. Max had caught him off guard, every muscle in his body was under tension and twitching slightly now and then but by tomorrow it would have passed - just like every time.

Sighing, and with aching shoulders, he decided to make his way home. He couldn't wait to get rid of the suit, take a hot shower, and then just fall into bed.

Peter looked around a bit perplexed at first though, no sign of his backpack with his real clothes and the rest of his stuff.

"Oh great," he sighed.

When he was taken to another universe from one moment to the next, he had actually been on his way home too, and when he understood what was going on he had fastened his backpack with a net to the wall in the same backstreet where he was now. Wasn't it sent back again with him?

"What a great wizard," the brunette muttered mockingly, "What should I wear now?".

Apart from the clothes, his apartment key, his new camera and also his cell phone had also been inside, which he mourned even more.

It was noon, judging from the position of the sun, and thus the possibility of getting into his room through the window was gone, since Aunt May would hear him one hundred percent. And in his Spider-Man suit he could hardly get through the front door.

Peter had to realize that he had no choice but to make a hasty effort to get something together. After a moment's thought, however, he decided to remain as unobserved as possible, because he feared that Spider-Man would then appear as a thief in the upcoming news. After all that he had experienced, he was quite happy if Spider-Man would not be seen in the media at all. The false accusations had finally ruined his other self's life.

Groaning, Peter clung to the stone wall of the house and slowly crawled up it to the roof to get a better view.

Peter had always thought that New York was a beautiful city, even if it held many dangers. It was somehow comforting to know that it was protected in other universes as well. Even though the thought of other universes that were exactly the same as his own, but also somehow not, made Peter's head hurt even more than it already did.

With a sick feeling he thought of how all this had occurred.

All of a sudden it felt as if the floor had been pulled out from under Peter's feet, his vision went black and when he regained consciousness he found himself propped up on the floor on his knees and hands.

Had he had a fit of dizziness or something similar? Nothing like that had happened to him in years, not since the spider bite. But still he sat there, and it actually took him a moment to sit up again. Gasping, he pressed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

Something was wrong. He could almost hear the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and a bloodcurdling shudder slowly crept down the length of his spine. His inner instinct was practically screaming at him to get into a defensive posture, which he did for a few seconds. But there was no one behind him, nor was there anything lurking above him that could attack him.

Nevertheless, his spider-sense did not let up warning him of an impending danger. Although everything in him resisted, he relaxed his body and carefully walked out of the small alley. At first glance, everything seemed normal. Hundreds of people and cars moved through the busy New York, but nothing that could make him go on alert. Nervously, Peter looked around and moved with the flow of people. Finally, he spotted a small group standing excitedly in front of a newspaper booth, talking animatedly.

As he approached them and saw what the topic of their discussion was, he knew why the Spider-Sense had struck. The front page of every single newspaper, regardless of the publisher, was covered with the same image. The face of a stranger, with his own name underneath. It was impossible for him to fix his eyes on complete sentences, but he perceived words like "Public Enemy #1", "Murderer" and "Spider-Man."

"Excuse me?" he asked, perhaps a little too loudly to one of the men, "What's going on here?".

Peter was collectively stared at in disbelief and he winced slightly.

"What's going on here? Are you living behind the moon? Spider-Man murdered Mysterio!".

"Murdered.. Mysterio?".

Peter pushed his eyebrows together and wrestled with himself to finally take a closer look at the papers.

'Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man a murderer?'

'Spider-Man's identity unmasked!'

'Spider-Man: hero or villain?'

"I can't believe this! He's just a kid," replied one woman with tears in her eyes.

"My niece is going to school with this Peter Parker! Can you imagine? He's just running around here freely!"

How could that be Peter Parker? That was a completely different person in that picture. The brunette suddenly had the feeling that he was going to throw up at any moment. No matter how smart he was, he didn't understand what was going on and somehow it all seemed like some kind of bad joke or terrible nightmare.

"How could you not have seen this? It's everywhere, even at the Times Square", said the man again, who had answered him first.

"Oh, yeah?" replied Peter huskily, the very thought of it filling him with even more fear.

He decided to leave the group alone again with their conversation and to run away before he would really vomit on their feet and returned as fast as he could to the back street from which he had come. He didn't really care what they thought of him.

Arriving at safety, the brunette dropped his backpack on the ground beside him and almost instantly collapsed beside it. His hands were shaking terribly and he tried not to completely lose it with deep inhales and exhales. Panting, he clenched his fingers into fists, hoping to stop the convulsive shaking, which didn't really work. Even if this boy wasn't Peter Parker - which he couldn't be, since he was him himself - his secret identity was now released to every single person on Earth.

Peter didn't know how long he sat there on the floor, but he didn't care. He didn't know what to do with himself or what to do now.

After what felt like an eternity, he managed to sit up halfway and was now thinking about how to proceed. He needed more information and thought, if the whole thing had made such a big stir, then surely also on the Internet. With quick movements, Peter had fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and opened the very next social media app. He was right, there were pictures and videos of Spider-Man everywhere. But that wasn't him. Not only the person himself, but the suit looked completely different. And yet he could swing through the air the same way. Could there really be another Spider-Man? But why was his name Peter Parker?

He scrolled until he saw a video of a giant green monster rampaging through a shopping mall.

"Dr. Connors?".

If Peter was honest with himself, he wanted to get rid of these memories as soon as possible. This whole story was terribly tiring in so many ways.

It wasn't long before he spotted a line in a small niche with clothes hanging out. Of course he felt bad stealing from unsuspecting citizens, but he had no other choice. Slower than usual he moved there. With a sigh he realized that he was too stiff and exhausted to swing his whole body.

With skilful movements, he shot a net to a sweater and a pair of pants. There were no shoes, unfortunately, but that would have to be enough. He could hardly be picky here.

The clothes were way too wide for him, even though he was very tall himself, but even that didn't really bother him. He pulled them over the suit and stuffed the matching mask into the pockets of the hoodie. Carefully, he lowered himself down to the street with a net and finally started walking.

Inwardly he was already making up an excuse about where he had been for so long and why he needed a new backpack. But- had much time passed while he was away? He had been in another universe for two days, had it felt as long outside? Or just a few hours? A few minutes? Seconds? His head was buzzing from all the questions and it was also getting harder and harder for him to keep his eyes open. Somehow he had to think of the other Peters. He wondered if they were also as tired from all the events as he was. Peter 2 had suffered a stab wound and Peter 1... He didn't even want to think about it. Alone in a universe where no one can remember you? No family, no friends, no... MJ.

Peter swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment to get rid of those thoughts. This was Spider-Man's fate, he guessed. To be alone. But somehow he was also proud that his other self had made the right decision and put the greater good before his own interests.

With every step he took, his legs felt heavier and weaker and he wondered when was the last time he was so exhausted after a fight. It wasn't far to the apartment he called home with Aunt May, but with his aching feet, the walk was twice as long.

Suddenly he stopped. Had there always been a burger restaurant on this street corner? He looked urgently at the lettering above the large window, but then shrugged his shoulders; maybe it had just opened recently.

Actually, he didn't care either, he just wanted to get home. His mood improved increasingly when he could see the familiar house and, despite the pain, his pace became faster and faster. Peter made three crosses internally when he finally stood on the porch and pressed the doorbell labeled "Parker". He was already bracing himself for a telling off from May, he knew how beat up he must look and in combination with the stolen clothes and his relieving posture, this conversation was pretty much preprogrammed.

When he heard the key turn in the lock, Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

"May, I'm really sorry that I'm coming home that late, I -".

But it wasn't May standing in the door frame.

"Peter?"

"Uncle Ben".

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