#student peter parker

[drempen]

Spideyvenom high school au

[jasperlore]

Are we multi shipping here? Ik we’re moots cause of spideypool but I would looove to hear who your other fave pairings are

Outside of SpideyPool I just kinda like ships with peter because I'm a sucker for (any flirtatious character) x spider-man lol Wade x Peter Matt x Peter Johnny x Peter Felicia x Peter Gwen x Peter and ofc, the soulmates themselves, MJ x Peter

[alexdrawsagain]

Peter Parker: Foreign Exchange Student

Money bags vs Alley cat

In todays installment momo gets her time to shine showing nice girls don't always finish last and also smug momo is my favorite thing ever. Sorry we haven't gotten around to making more spidey comics but as we in general are trying to make more comics, i really do miss these dumb teens.

Until next time gang!

Read past comics in an easy to sort through deviant art gallery here!

[delicatebarness]

the manuscript | chapter one

Summary: Vulnerable and Honest.

Warnings: Age Gap. (Dr Barnes: late 40s & Reader: early 20s) Smut.

Word Count: 1408

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A/N: I'm so sorry Peter. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @mostlymarvelgirl | @mrsnikstan

You tried to focus, to be present in the moment. The room was dimly lit, and the bass from the party outside thudded against the walls. Peter moved behind you, his breath heavy. Every touch felt mechanical and predictable. 

His hands gripped your hips, pressing himself closer. “You feel amazing,” he murmured as his breathing became ragged. You forced a moan, you wanted to match his enthusiasm, you wanted to let go. Closing your eyes, you tried to immerse yourself in the sensations but your mind wandered. 

Your thoughts drifted to upcoming assignments, the laundry that had started piling up, and whether the milk would go bad. 

Peter’s pace quickened, as he neared his climax, his grip on your hips tightened. “I’m close,” he whispered. Arching your back, you pushed yourself closer to him. It was no use, you felt it going through the motions—his movements, were erratic, and his breathing was heavy. 

With a satisfied grown, he finished, collapsing onto the bed beside you. You followed his lead, lying beside him as he sighed contently. He rolled the condom off, tossing it toward the bin beside his bed, before wrapping an arm around you. 

His chest heaved as he caught his breath. “That was great,” he smiled down at you, his voice drowsy. Forcing a smile, you nodded. 

It didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep. But, you lay awake, staring at the bedroom ceiling. Your mind replayed your mental to-do list as the music continued into the night. 

Slipping out of bed, you made your way toward the bathroom. Closing the door behind you, you swiftly turned the lock as the sound of the party muffled. You started at your reflection in the mirror as you leaned against the sick. 

Turning the tap, you let the cool water run over your hands before splashing your face. As you thought about your assignments, your mind drifted to Dr. Barnes. His presence, and how it commanded your attention. His piercing eyes, the way they would lock onto yours during debates. 

Your hand traveled down your body, looking for the release that Peter’s touch failed to find. Vivid images of Dr. Barnes– his hands, voice, and stare continued to play on your mind. Your fantasies grew, consuming your mind as you imagined his touch. His whispered words of encouragement. 

The tension built quickly within you, eagerly your body responded to your forbidden thoughts. Biting your lip, you tried to stifle your sighs. Not that anyone could hear over the party and music. The pleasure you found in your touch was intense, immediate, and driven. 

Your breath quickened as you remembered the thrill of intellectual sparring, always leaving you craving more.

A wave of pleasure washed over you, trembling, you struggled to keep quiet. Your mind was lost in the ecstasy. The release you were desperate for earlier in the night. 

As the sensations subsided, you leaned against the sick again. A mix of guilt and satisfaction coursed through you as you tried to steady your breathing. 

Taking a deep breath, you washed your hands and splashed your face. Returning to the bedroom, careful not to make eye contact with the other’s still partying. Peter, still sound asleep, blissfully unaware of your betrayal. 

Sliding back into bed, you found your gaze back on the bedroom ceiling, your mind a tangled, complicated mess of desires. 

~

Pushing aside the tangled thoughts and desires that had consumed your night, you rose from Peter’s bed with renewed determination. He slept soundly, unaware of the struggle you had faced internally. After going about your morning routine, you made your way to Dr. Barnes’ class. The lecture hall was already buzzing with students, the energy palpable as you entered. 

“Good morning, everyone,” Dr. Barnes stood at the front of the room, his voice commanding the attention of the room. “I trust you’ve all had a chance to review the reading for today.” his gaze lingered on yours for a moment longer than the others. 

He launched into details for the new assignment, memories of the previous night caused your mind to drift. Your desires for Dr. Barnes began to overshadow your commitment to your relationship with Peter, guilt gnawed at you. You tried to force your focus, trying to push these feelings aside. 

His voice delved into the intricacies of literary theory, weaving through concepts and ideas. He was a master storyteller. All attention riveted on Dr. Barnes as the hall around you fell silent, his presence and voice filled the space. 

As Dr. Barnes continued, he began to turn slightly, his glance sweeping across the room. His gaze lingered on you as if expecting your hand to be raised. He readied himself for another heated debate. 

“Yes, Miss Spector…?” Dr. Barnes began, his voice cutting through your fogged thoughts, pulling you back to the present. Blinking, startled, you realized that all eyes were now on you. 

“Yes, Dr. Barnes?” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips as you tried to mask your confusion. A slight blush rose to your cheeks with embarrassment, you hoping it would go unnoticed. 

He paused, lines formed across his forehead as a furrow formed between his brows. “You had something to add to the discussion?”

Your heart began to race, the thudding loud in your ears. “Oh, no, sorry,” you stammered, shaking your head slightly. “Lost in thought.”

“I see,” he said, softening his expression slightly, his tone measured. “Try to stay with us, Miss Spector. Your insights are valuable.” 

As he resumed his lecture, you sank back into your seat. This little incident was a reminder of the boundaries that separated you from Dr. Barnes. The line between student and teacher was clear at that moment. You noticed Yelena, one of your best friends, giving you a curious glance, but you avoided her eyes, choosing to focus on your notebook in front of you instead. You tried to refocus, attempting to immerse yourself in the material, and jotting down notes. 

You made a conscious effort to engage with the discussion as the class continued, asking questions and offering insights as normal. Dr. Barnes acknowledged you with a small nod, the silent encouragement that boosts your confidence. 

~

When the class finally drew to an end, Dr. Barnes gave out the new assignment, expressing his expectations and detailing the guidelines. 

You lingered behind as students began to pack up and leave. Approaching his desk, the weight of the unspoken connection between you two caused your heart to pound once more. 

“Dr. Barnes,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “Do you have any specific advice for approaching this assignment?” 

He looked up from his desk, his gaze meeting yours as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Authenticity in writing comes from personal experience. Write what you know.” 

You nodded, “Thank you,” you replied but didn’t move. You lingered, and Dr. Barnes noticed your hesitation. 

“Is there something else on your mind, Miss Spector?” he asked, his tone softer, almost inviting. 

Unsure of how much to professionally reveal, you hesitated. “I just… I, um, I’m struggling to find a personal angle that feels significant enough,” you admitted. “I want my writing to be… compelling like you said.” 

He leaned forward slightly, and his gaze intensified. “Well, compelling writing often comes from exploring parts of yourself that you’re the most afraid of, most afraid to reveal,” he paused for a moment, allowing you the opportunity to speak. You didn’t take it, focusing on his jaw tensing slightly. “It’s about being vulnerable, honest. Sometimes, the stories we’re most hesitant to tell are the ones that resonate the most.” 

His words struck a chord deep within you. “I understand,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes.” 

You turned to leave, and just as you were about to walk out the door, he called after you. “Miss Spector,” his voice stopped you in your tracks. Your breath hitched as you turned back to face him. He stood now and leaned against his desk, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Remember, my door is always open if you need further guidance.” 

“Thank you,” you replied, your gaze flickering down to his hands as they rested casually on his hips. “I appreciate it.” You left the lecture hall, your mind buzzing with a whirlwind of thought. His words lingered, echoing in your mind. Vulnerable, and honest.

---

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[erinwantstowrite]

i rewatched the spider-verse movies so im thinking about miles atm but you have a couple posts about him and LoF so i was just wondering what would the bats opinions be on him ??

oh, they're gonna love him. peter has quite a few pupils in the future, but miles is his legacy. carrying on that spider-man name and making it his own? miles is practically his little brother in the future, his pride and joy. the Bats are older too around this time so they each have different dynamics with miles. bruce is leaning towards fully retired by the time peter is in his mid twenties (i think bruce is like 53 when peter is 25?). by the time miles comes around they're used to having students and a bunch of family so he is welcomed with open arms

[pretty-bratty]

Found it in my drafts. How did I forget to post it?!

[t1koy-roll]

A modern take on some of the coffee bean gang members for my spiderverse oc's story

[sweeteuphrasia]

spideypool it’s the middle of the night PLEASE get out of my head

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #144

Peter Parker sounds just like Spider-Man. This is something that the students of Midtown find hilarious

Soon, Peter's getting comments in the halls like, "Hey are you that kid who sounds like Spider-Man?" "Uhhh I mean -" "Holy shit it's truuue" and, "Hey Parker, say, 'Hiya Mister Criminal'' "(sigh) Hiya Mister criminal-"

It becomes a daily bit on the school news: they put Peter in the cheapest, most ridiculous Spider-Man mask imaginable and get him to say wild stuff, whatever Midtown students can think of. Like that bit at the end of Honest Trailers.

(Peter may or may not go slightly viral saying some Stuff about the Rogue Avengers in his "Spider-Man voice." Tony may or may not nearly piss himself laughing about it when he finds out.

Spider-Man himself has yet to comment.)

[rainghosted]

Peter was in his last year of college and he just found out that his professor on his course was his ex boyfriend.

Peter Parker walked into his first day of senior year at college, feeling optimistic about his final year. He had worked hard, taken on internships, and built up a good academic record. All he had left was his senior project and a few required courses. The toughest one on his list was Advanced Engineering, which he had heard was notoriously difficult, but he figured he could handle it. What Peter didn’t expect was the surprise waiting for him behind the professor’s desk.

As he entered the classroom, Peter glanced at the whiteboard and saw the name "Professor Stark" written in bold letters. A familiar name. Too familiar. His heart skipped a beat as a wave of memories flooded his mind.

No way. It couldn’t be that Stark.

Peter slid into a seat near the back, trying to calm his racing heart. He hoped, prayed, that it was just a coincidence. That maybe this "Professor Stark" was someone else entirely. But when the door to the classroom swung open and in walked none other than Tony Stark—the Tony Stark—Peter’s ex, his worst fears were confirmed.

[daniilzsn]

Ok can I ask Spiderman fans, has there ever been a comic that has Peter Parker as a teacher at Miles Morales' school? and whenever a villain strikes they both try to sneak away to change into spiderman and fight unbeknownst to eachother, but with Peter still mentoring Miles in both positions

Bonus points if Miles HATES Professor Parker and thinks he's the lamest loser around but looks up to the other Spiderman above anyone else

[alexdrawsagain]

Peter Parker: Foreign Exchange Student

"Many Happy Returns"

In this installment i finally had the rare moments to friggin' finish a comic that had been haunting me saying "i'm unfinished" in a ghostly voice.......it was fun as hell to see this old lady put the fear of god into aizawa and all might

Okay back on track. I'm glad it's finally out of my head once and for all. Thanks for everyone who's been reading all this time. In response to @timelord2024 we've both come a long long way on our respective journeys writing and drawing Peter and his adventures with class 1A. Farewell My Hero Academia. Rest now.

Archives of past comics can be read here: https://www.deviantart.com/daybrache/gallery/71385030/peter-parker-foreign-exchange-student

[delicatebarness]

the manuscript | chapter two

Summary: My office, tomorrow.

Warnings: Age Gap. (Dr Barnes: late 40s & Reader: early 20s)

Word Count: 1630

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A/N: I'm done. I can't handle the heat. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @mostlymarvelgirl | @mrsnikstan | @angelbabyyy99

“𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ����𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡 𝐈 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐀𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐘𝐞𝐭, 𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲…”

Hitting the delete key repeatedly, the sound echoed throughout the library’s peaceful atmosphere. You sighed, watching the blinking cursor on your laptop screen, it felt like an accusatory eye. Frustrated, you leaned back in your chair. 

You were determined to write something profound after your encounter with Dr. Barnes, that echoed the depth he had challenged you to explore. Each of your attempts felt inadequate. His words replayed in your mind: “Exploring parts of yourself that you’re the most afraid of, most afraid to reveal.” 

Staring at the screen, your fingers flew across the keyboard, paragraphs appearing and disappearing. Doubt crept in, every time you thought you had a handle on it. You began to feel isolated as the dim lighting and occasional rustle of pages surrounded you.

The intensity in Dr. Barnes’ eyes when he spoke about vulnerability, wandered back into your thoughts. Something in his presence that left you unsettled, in a way you didn’t understand, stirring feelings you aren’t ready to confront. 

Just as you began typing again, Peter appeared in front of you. “Hey,” he whispered leaning over the table to kiss you. “Thought I’d find you here,” he continued to whisper, sitting opposite you. “How’s the assignments going?” 

You forced a smile. “Вообще-то, как-то застрял.” 

His brows furrowed as you switched to Russian, leaning over the table again, his eyes searched yours as if trying to decipher code. “Sorry, baby, I didn’t catch that,” he admitted, a playful smirk spreading across his lips. 

You smiled again, this time a genuine one. “I said I’m a bit stuck with the assignment,” you translated roughly, your voice filled with amusement. 

“Oh,” he replied, his gaze lingered on you, desire danced in his eyes. “You know,” his voice dropped to a husky whisper, “there’s something incredibly… hot about you speaking Russian.” 

A heat rose to your cheeks as his words lingered in the air, his gaze intense and filled with a warm desire. However, despite his playful demeanor, something cast a shadow over what should have been a moment of intimacy. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling of disconnection as he leaned in closer. It was as if you were playing for cameras, following a script and cues without feeling true passion behind the actions. 

With a hesitant smile, you lacked the genuine spark that should ignite between two people in love. The chemistry you once had shared evaporated over the years, leaving behind awkward silences. 

Peter withdrew, disappointment flickering over his features. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” he murmured. You offered a weak smile as you nodded in acknowledgment. 

“Thanks, Peter,” you replied as he stood from the table. As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel guilt at the lost connection. You knew the distance between you was widening with each passing day, and deep down, you knew that forcing something that wasn’t there, only lead to further heartache. 

Turning back to your laptop with a heavy sigh, the assignment suddenly feels more daunting. As you typed, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you, the realization that true passion couldn’t be manufactured– it has to come from within you. 

Delving deeper into your work, you focused on excavating raw emotions buried beneath the surface. 

An email notification popped into the corner of your screen, distracting you from your work. Curious, you clicked on it, revealing a message from Dr. Barnes. 

The subject line simply read: My office, tomorrow. 

Your pulse quickened with anticipation as you read the contents of the email. Dr. Barnes has requested you meet him at his office the following day, excitement filled you as you sent a reply, confirming his request. 

~

Dr. Barnes' had bolstered your confidence but also intensified the tension you held toward him. As you walked to his office door, you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your stomach as you knocked lightly, his nameplate gleaming in the afternoon light.

“Come in,” his voice called from within. 

Dr. Barnes was seated at his desk when you opened the door, stepping inside. Papers spread out before him. He looked up with a smile. “Miss Spector, please have a seat.” 

“Thank you,” you said, accepting his offer as you took the chair opposite him. The room was quiet, the faint ticking of a clock on the wall and his rustle of papers. 

He studied you as he leaned back in his chair, taking a moment before speaking. “I’m glad you came, I wanted to discuss your writing in more detail. You have a lot of potential, but there are areas where you can dig deeper.” 

You nodded, the weight of his gaze felt heavy. “I appreciate that, Dr. Barnes. I want my writing to be as… captivating as possible.” 

“Good,” he said, his voice low. “Tell me, what holds you back from being completely honest in your writing?” 

You hesitated, he caught you off guard with his question. “I guess… I’m struggling with finding a personal angle that feels… significant enough,” you admitted. 

His gaze never left yours as he nodded. “Significance often lies in the depths of vulnerability,” he said softly. “It’s about revealing parts of ourselves that we’re most afraid to confront.” 

His words struck a chord within you, “I understand,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as a shiver ran down your spine. 

Dr. Barnes leaned forward slightly, unwavering his gaze. “What are you most afraid of, Miss Spector?” he asked, resting his chin against his fist. 

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat as the air between you crackled with tension. The weight of his question hung heavy in the room. 

“I…” you began, yet the words caught in your throat. How could you admit to him your fears? How could you reveal the darkest corners of your soul?

He leaned even closer, his gaze boring into yours. “Trust me,” he murmured, his voice became almost audible. “I’m here to help you explore those fears.” 

Gathering your courage, you took a deep breath. “I’m afraid of being rejected,” you confessed. “You know, pouring my heart out onto the page and having it dismissed,” you explained, half truly. 

Dr. Barnes nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s a common fear,” his voice low and husky as he acknowledges. He paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair before standing. His movements were deliberate as he walked closer to you. “But, it’s also where the most heartfelt writing comes from.” He picked up a pen from his desk, tapping it lightly against the surface. “When you write from a place of… sensitivity, you create something genuine and powerful.” 

The mere proximity sent a jolt of electricity through you. There was a flicker of understanding, but also something else, an undercurrent of desire that caught you off guard. “So… I need to embrace that fear and write anyway?” you asked with a pang of uncertainty in your voice. 

“Exactly,” he affirmed, his eyes locked with yours again, looking down at you while your heart raced. “It’s about channeling that fear into your writing, use it as fuel for your creativity rather than holding you back.” 

Your pulse quickened as he spoke, his presence seemed to envelop you, and you found yourself leaning forward, drawn to him by an irresistible invisible force. The space between you shrunk, the air heavy with anticipation. 

“And, how do I get past that fear?” you asked, your voice whispering as the words hung between you. 

Now only inches away from you, he loomed over you. “It’s not about getting past it,” he said softly, “it’s about acknowledging it and pushing through it.” 

The temptation to bridge the gap between you was almost overwhelming, but you resisted. The tension between you escalated with each passing second. 

“Every writer encounters rejection,” he murmured, lowering himself to your eye level. His voice was soft, whispering. “But, it’s those who persist, and push through, who succeed.” His face was so close that your breath caught in your throat. 

“Trust your voice and your perspective.” he urged, his gaze locking with yours, captivating you in his presence. 

Desire swirled in your veins as your heart raced. The space between you charged with a longing that seemed to pull you closer together. 

“I’ll try,” you whispered, shifting slightly in the chair. “I’ll try to write despite the fear.” 

He smiled a soft, warm, and genuine smile that made you weak in the knees. “Good girl,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of danger and temptation. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.” 

With that, he stood up and moved behind his desk, the distance between you feeling insurmountable. 

~

In the solitude of your own space, you were focused on the tantalizing possibility of what could have been. The allure of your professor lingered a forbidden temptation that thrilled yet terrified you. 

You tried to push your desires to the back of your mind, but despite everything you tried, they still danced around your consciousness: teasing you. Crossing that line would have consequences, and you knew that, but the pull was almost impossible to resist. 

Sitting down at your desk, you took a deep breath and let the words flow from your fingertips with a newfound inspiration. One fueled by the raw emotions stirred within you by the enigmatic presence of Dr. Barnes. In the depths of your writing, you found a sense of liberation, and freedom to explore your biggest fear, him.

---

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[monster-cock69]

Alpha Tony at prom with his fake date and omega Peter whose his chem teacher chaperoning

[skidtheremix]

Trying to shake off the old bones for drawing, decided to start with something self indulgent. Might do more of these since I love the concept of Peter/Spider-Man in the MHA universe, and @alexdrawsagain's bits about what he gets up to and the love shenanigans are super entertaining to read through over and over.

[moritashie]

I'VE GOT AN evil FIC IDEA vol #13

After Peter's death, someone else with his face starts appearing in New York. That person, who knows he's not Peter, slowly starts to remember things from Peter's life, dreads that life, the family from memories, and grieves over something he never had.

Aka. Peter Parker dies, a clone of his is created. Upon escaping his captors, the clone learns of his origins, and in true Peter-like fashion (Lets suspend our beliefs for a moment, yes, they are also the same or very similar on the psychological level) he has a severe guilt complex over his very existence.

Enter Tony Stark into the equation.