Irondad and Spiderson // One Shots

6 random stories of Peter

Edit: yes, this is a crack fic.

1.

Peter Parker had always hated sleepy Falmouth with its unusual, uneven umbrellas. It was a place where he felt confident.

He was an intuitive, understanding, squash drinker with handsome eyelashes and fragile fingernails. His friends saw him as an ancient, ashamed angel. Once, he had even helped an uninterested baby flamingo recover from a flying accident. That's the sort of man he was.

Peter walked over to the window and reflected on his backward surroundings. The drizzle rained like loving badgers.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Tony Stark. Tony was a callous god with moist eyelashes and skinny fingernails.

Peter gulped. He was not prepared for Tony.

As Peter stepped outside and Tony came closer, he could see the bored glint in his eye.

Tony gazed with the affection of 724 optimistic adventurous aardvarks. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want affection."

Peter looked back, even more stressed and still fingering the stripy record. "Tony, I ate your puppy," he replied.

They looked at each other with irritable feelings, like two rich, rainy rats talking at a very thoughtful disco, which had reggae music playing in the background and two ruthless uncles hopping to the beat.

Peter regarded Tony's moist eyelashes and skinny fingernails. "I feel the same way!" revealed Peter with a delighted grin.

Tony looked barmy, his emotions blushing like a huge, handsome hawk.

Then Tony came inside for a nice beaker of squash.

2.

Peter Parker was thinking about Wade Wilson again. Wade was a deranged monster with beautiful fingers and sloppy toenails.

Peter walked over to the window and reflected on his beautiful surroundings. He had always hated rural Sludgeside with its ratty, rapid rivers. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel barmy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a deranged figure of Wade Wilson.

Peter gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an understanding, understanding, tea drinker with greasy fingers and sticky toenails. His friends saw him as a lazy, leaking lover. Once, he had even rescued a bumpy toddler from a burning building.

But not even an understanding person who had once rescued a bumpy toddler from a burning building, was prepared for what Wade had in store today.

The wind blew like smiling koalas, making Peter shocked. Peter grabbed a magic hawk that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Peter stepped outside and Wade came closer, he could see the dead smile on his face.

"I am here because I want Internet access," Wade bellowed, in a brutal tone. He slammed his fist against Peter's chest, with the force of 7594 goldfish. "I frigging love you, Peter Parker."

Peter looked back, even more shocked and still fingering the magic hawk. "Wade, let's get married," he replied.

They looked at each other with healthy feelings, like two giant, gloopy goldfish bopping at a very callous Christening, which had piano music playing in the background and two callous uncles rampaging to the beat.

Suddenly, Wade lunged forward and tried to punch Peter in the face. Quickly, Peter grabbed the magic hawk and brought it down on Wade's skull.

Wade's beautiful fingers trembled and his sloppy toenails wobbled. He looked shocked, his body raw like a kaleidoscopic, knobbly knife.