Peter Parker One Shots

I just wanted a sandwich

Another car drove past, as peter made his way down the street. The sun had set a few minutes ago, leaving the sky a purply- yellow colour. Clouds littered the sky, an odd star here and there to illuminate it.

Music played through his headphones, one of his favourites (insert fav song). He hummed as he walked, a small skip in his step. It had been a pretty good day at school. As in, flash hadn't been as annoying as usual, he had gotten 100% on his recent science test

Well duh

And it was a Friday which meant he was spending the weekend with mr stark.

So all in all, it had been a pretty good day.

He had already sent a message to mr stark explaining he'd be slightly late, he wanted to go to delmars for a sandwich before he went to the tower.

Once he had got there, he instantly smelt the heavenly aroma of sandwiches.

"Ah peter, how are you?" The man at the counter explained.

"I'm good thanks mr delmar. How are you?"

"I'm doing great now that my favourite customer has arrived" peter gave him a lopsided grin, coming to the counter and grabbing a pack of gummy bears on the way.

"I'd like a n-"

"Number 5 coming right up"

"Don't forget t-"

"Squish it down real flat." He gave a knowing grin, winking before yelling the order back to the kitchen. I put the normal $5 on the counter, waiting for my sandwich.

Just as he put it down, my spider sense exploded. A chill rushed through me, rattling to the bone. I quickly spun around, and was met with a cold hard glare.

.
.
.
.
.
.

Oh, and a gun.

"Everyone put your hands UP!" The man yelled, glancing around the sandwich shop. Luckily I was the only customer here, but mr delmar and two workers were still here.

They gasped, immediately putting their hands up.

"You too boy" he snarled, aiming the gun in my direction. I slowly put them up, glancing behind him to take in the 3 other men entered the shop.

"Um excuse me sir, what are you doing?" I asked, trying to sound innocent, with a hint of fear tainting my voice.

"Quiet child, if you don't want a bullet through your brain."

The men didn't seem very experienced, wearing the usual black ski masks, amateur weapons.

But they were still weapons.

And right now, Spider-Man couldn't do anything.

This was Peter Parker, the nerd who gets bullied by flash and doesn't stand up for himself.

The boy who's family all died, except for his aunt.

Weak little Peter Parker.

And he couldn't do anything.

"Come here" the voice knocked him out of his trance, slicing through the eerie silence.

"W-what?"

"I said come here boy. Don't make me use this" peter slowly walked to him, eyeing the gun.

This can't be good.