#tasm! x reader

based off this prompt list

i cannot tell a lie, this may be a favorite too.

You were supposed to be just friends, he was your boyfriend's best friend for christ’s sake. 

Peter Parker was supposed to be your friend. 

But do friends share stolen glances and explored bodies in a bathroom at a party? Do friends wait until their boyfriend is asleep before sneaking out his room, hoping your other friend is awake, awake enough you can get a taste of his lips one more time. 

It was wrong, dangerous and complicated. 

If it was anyone else you would’ve been gone, he would’ve been dumped and you would be with Peter easily, you two get along so well. He barters better with you than anyone, your pop culture and his book smarts blended perfectly. His hands feel stronger when they graze your lips, his lips fit better on yours, almost swallowing you with kisses, blended into the moment. His groans matched yours better, his hips matched with yours better, his curves bent to yours. 

He is supposed to be yours. 

But you’re dating his best friend, how can you do this without ruining a friendship. 

It was wrong, you both knew it. 

It was always one last time, then it would be over. No more anything, cut it off because it was wrong. Then that became something you would say quickly to get it out of the way, just checking in with your morals, like yeah this is bad but uh, not when it’s us, because we’re different, this is different, or something like that. 

It became careless, thoughtless, hasty. 

You both just wanted each other, it started with staying around after he, your boyfriend left. Then you would slunk into Peter’s bed and start your morning there. It would’ve made you feel sleazy but you stopped having sex with your boyfriend at this point, there was no reason when Peter did everything right. 

Then you stayed the whole weekend when your boyfriend went out of town, without him knowing. Only leaving Peter’s bed when you needed to eat or pee, it was hard to stop anything that was only progressing on its own. 

It was wrong, but so natural. It wasn’t fair, but he brought you back to life. He gave you what you never knew was missing.

“I think I’m gonna leave him.” It was whispered in the air, he was just a wall behind you. It was getting dangerous, you suspect both of you stopped to hide it so hard, maybe hoping the curtain would be dropped and everything would be fixed. 

“You can’t do that, he’ll be crushed.” 

“What are we supposed to do? I can’t date him forever. What if he wants to break up, or you move out, or you find a girl you can actually be in public with?” 

“I don’t know, maybe we have to end it.” 

“We always say that but we never do, that’s kinda our thing.” 

“What if it’s for real this time?” 

You look over at him, he’s staring at the ceiling. 

“But then what, Peter? I don’t love him anymore, I want to be with you. I want to date you, I want to sleep in your bed without worrying who might come in. I want to kiss and hold you at parties, I want to dance in my underwear in the kitchen when I make you breakfast. I want to be yours.” 

He closes his eyes tightly, his fist matches. He wants that so badly, but he can’t do that to his friend. 

“I know. I know you do, but it won’t happen. No matter how much time passes he will always see it as a betrayal, I don’t know how we do this right. I don’t think there is a way.” 

“Peter we can do this, if we really think we can make it, and I do, then it will be worth it.” 

“I just don’t think I can, baby. I really don’t think I can.” 

“So what? That’s it? This is the end of us?”

“I think so.” 

“It was supposed to be the beginning, I,” You stopped and sighed. 

“C’mon, Peter. Don’t make me say it, I can’t say the words. I shouldn’t say them.” 

“Make you say what?” 

“It won’t change anything, anyways.” 

“I know, but I want to hear you say them.” 

“I love you.” 

You ended up breaking up with him anyways, you know Peter tried to avoid that but what was the point? You didn’t love him anymore and Peter was serious this time, he stayed away, he was never there, actually. There were no secret trips to the kitchen, no meeting up in the bathroom to brush teeth, no sleepovers, no jokes, no smiles, no banter, no happiness, no love, no Peter. 

It had been weeks, you never told him why. You didn’t want to throw Peter under the bus, and it was wrong but you cared more about Peter, you wanted to protect him more. But you know by now that Peter knows you’ve ended things, you wonder if he’d be more willing to approach you again.

 You wondered if Peter would ever think you were worth it. 

Peter looked like shit. 

His hair was longer than usual and greasy, he had blue and purple bags under his eyes and looked like he lost ten pounds. He panted heavily and bent at the knees, you were suddenly feeling very awake at four in the morning. A breeze nipped at your exposed knees but all was ignored when you were standing in front of Peter Parker who was outside your door. 

“Are you okay?” You asked first because he did not look okay, he looked like shit. 

“No. Not at all.” 

You furrowed your brow, “Okay, Do you, um,” You looked behind you, “Do you wanna come in?” 

He pushed past you to pace in your living room, you took a seat on the couch and watched him. 

“I haven’t been able to sleep, eat, shower or shit since I last saw you. Everything in my life is going downhill. I lost my bus and subway card, I dropped my wallet in the toilet, I failed two quizzes and a test. Then my barber’s uncle died and he’s been in Purto Rico for the past two weeks so my hair is fucked, I tried hooking up with this girl who immediately, and I mean this part, threw me off her and said I was trying to change her sexuality so I was like, shunned from the party. I spilled apple juice on my bedsheets and after I washed and changed them I instantly spilled ranch all over them, I have caught every door handle with my backpack, someone puked all over my new shoes,” 

He paused, gulping for air then slowed when he saw your wide eyed expression. 

He ignored the rest of his bad luck stories and cut to the chase. 

“I think I’m cursed without you. In other words,” 

Peter grabbed you and pulled you to him. 

“I can’t bare to be apart from you anymore.” 

You ginned up at him, he pressed a finger to your mouth before you could speak. 

“And I really fucking love you too, and I really want you to kiss and hold me at parties, and sleepover and make me pancakes in your underware. And I want to date you and call you my girlfriend and say fuck it to anyone who tries to say anything because I need you in my life. I really don’t know how I’ve lasted this far without you.” 

“Are you asking me to go steady?” 

Words: 1.4k Warnings: Yikes, angsty Summary: Peter is withdrawing from you. He has been here once before.

Loving Peter Parker was easy. Loving Spiderman was…less so.

It started about a fortnight ago. Peter’s words were brief, his smiles were small. His spark hadn’t just faded, it had disappeared. And you couldn’t remember the last time his hand found yours for a reassuring squeeze, one you could really do with right now.

None avenger reader lmao

A/N: I saw NWH like 3 times in theaters and I’m having Andrew Peter brain-rot so hope y’all like it

Btw this is a Universe where Gwen is his best Friend

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• You both liking each other and being Oblivious to it

• May just knowing and thinking “when are they going to get together”

• Peter probably asked you out and you just hugged him

• SLEEPOVERS

• You are his everything

• cuddling and watching movies

• He loves when you play with his hair

• why is it soo fluffyyyyyy

• Swinging around sometimes

• Gwen shipping it

• Taking his Hoodies left and right

• One day he catches you in it and he just melts

• picks you up and spins you saying “you are just to precious pretty girl!”

• Dancing in the rain

• skating together or just watching him

• always either holding your hand or has a hand around your waist

• Pete loves you sooo much

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based off this prompt list

everytime I try to write happy it falls short, I only know pain and anguish. thank you friend, i hope you like it.

“It’s true.” 

Your words shake, your hands tremor, you have to remind yourself to breathe, one, two, three times. Peter was telling the truth, not that you would think he was a liar but maybe just confused on this one, lost in space, unaware of the surroundings. 

No, out of his mind. 

Peter was out of his damn mind. 

Sure, he did tell you, and it was unlike you to ignore or disagree or straight up deny his thoughts and opinions. Peter was beautiful, not just physically but in general, in his day to day life. Peter was quite literally the guy who would give you the shirt off his back, he’s done that with his jacket one too many times. Peter brought peace and serenity wherever he went, that's why he was so good at being Spider-Man, even the most shell shocked persons could settle in his eyesight, they didn’t need to know who was under the mask to know they were a good person. 

And you were you, sometimes aggressive or bitter. Sometimes underwhelming and cautious, sometimes hateful and full of spite, sometimes sad and alone, sometimes you were also joyous and calm, and bright, and cherished, and lovely, and beautiful, and just overall a wonderful human being. 

Those were Peter’s words, you don’t believe them for a second. 

 With all those reasons on board, you thought, no, believed, you believed that Peter was wrong. Deadset, terribly offtrack wrong. So wrong not even two lefts could make it right. 

I mean, how could Peter Parker, your best friend, be in love with you? 

“Please, say something.” 

He pleaded with everything in him, he just wanted you to say something back to him. It could be a terrified scream, a giddy squeal, an unsure attitude with a million questions. 

He would even accept a slap to the face, anything but the deafening silence you gave back to him. 

It was unbearable in the room, Peter suddenly felt hot and flushed, he craved the outside air. He watched as the trees shook outside in the wind, he felt slightly outraged, the trees didn’t know what they had.

 Peter didn’t want to say anything else, I mean what else is there to say? He came clean, he leant into his emotions and feelings and poured them all out on the table and just hoped you would cradle them in warm hands and promise they would be safe. But you instead recoiled your hands to your sides and looked disgusted that he would even say such things to you. 

Peter supposes it’s the way it happened, maybe that’s why you felt so torn apart. 

He was dating your friend, was, that’s the keyword. And, yeah, girl code or whatever but you and Peter were closer than you and she were, and you’ve known him longer, and when Peter ended it, not that it even really started, she didn’t seem all that shocked. Like she knew you and Peter were always end game. 

And yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have pushed himself too far and gotten a little too drunk and blurted them out in one go, but how could he hold all that in when you looked like that? Looked at him, like that. Blinking lightly at some guy near the pong table his heart thumped, he always had that voice that begged no one else would see you like he does, no one else would see how you always give more than you could think to take, they wouldn’t see how far you push yourself for your accomplishments, and not for anyone else either, the praise was nice but you did everything with the goal of making your own damn self proud. 

He just couldn’t take it, especially when you grabbed the stranger’s arm. So, he rushed up to you, pulled you by your hand and explained that he needed to talk to you about ‘something super, uberly important. Like, super important.’ 

And he dropped the news, you pulled away, refused to believe it, and instead left the party and the next day, Peter called, then texted, then texted, and texted again, and on the second call you picked up. 

“Wanna grab a coffee?” He paused into the line, he tried to make a joke, “Or a gin and tonic, maybe?” 

You laughed, “Sure, what about?” 

A pause. 

You thought this was Peter trying to meet up to backtrack, because there was no way he actually liked you, or loved you as he swore. It wasn’t possible, instead, he blurted out words he didn’t mean while drunk and was trying to make a point that yes, he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you.

 It was the only plausible action. 

Oppositely, Peter wanted to talk to you about it, because it is real for him. And you blew him off, you never said a word, just backed away shaking your head, he still wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. He expects it’s bad. He just wants to let you know he is a thousand percent serious. 

“You don’t think there’s anything we need to talk about?” Teasing tone, gut punching words. 

“I don’t know, do you think there is?” Ignore, ignore, ignore. 

“Yes, Y/N. I think there is.” Disappointment. 

“Okay, text me. I’ll see you there.” 

And he told you again, therefore, it was true. It had to be. 

He begged you to speak once more, you took several minutes. 

You finally responded, you shook your head solemnly, “No. No you don’t.” 

“I- What?” Did he look offended? He did. 

“You don’t love me like that, you just think you do.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I don’t think you’re in love with me, I think you love me for sure but that’s what friends do.” 

He snorted, “No, trust me. I’m in love with you.” 

“No you don’t. Stop saying that.” 

Now he was getting offended, “Are you trying to mansplain my feelings to me right now? Like, as I am confessing here you’re actively trying to shove the words back in my mouth.” 

“I dunno, Peter. Think about this, think about us. Does it make sense for you to love me?” 

Confusion again, “Bro, what are you on? Think about what? I mean I’m lost here.” 

Fingers pointing back and forth, “This! Us! What’s happening, it doesn’t make sense.” 

Frustration is eating at Peter, “Okay, listen. And actually hear what I am saying, okay? I told you how I feel, pretty explicitly, several times now. If you don’t like me back, or believe it, or if you want to deny it forever that’s on you. But don’t you dare sit here and try to tell me I’m the crazy one.” 

“You are crazy though! Are you not getting that?” You pulled at the roots of your hair, he was about to cause you to have a mental breakdown. 

“How? How am I crazy? Please enlighten me.” Peter threw his back against his chair, how was an admittance of love turned into this? 

“Because I don’t deserve you, Peter!” 

It was said louder than you meant, the coffee shop quieted down for a moment before picking back up to normal. 

Peter looked perplexed, then upset, then point blank looked like he was about to cry. 

A slow head shake, disappointment, betrayal, disagreement. All three? 

“I’m sorry that you found out this way, it was unfair. It was a heavy load dropped on you, and that sucks on my end. But, I love you. I am so unnaturally in love with you I need my brain studied. And you can sit here in your own pretty little head and daydream that I’m too good for you, or I’ll get bored and leave, or I’m faking or unsure in what this is, but it won’t change. Nothing will change, if you don’t love me back that’s fine” A sharp inhale, it didn’t feel fine. 

“But I will spend the rest of my life trying to change that.” 

You bite your cheek, you watch the steam rise and curl from your cup, he was telling the truth. 

You nod slowly, releasing your cheek from your molars, “I’ll take you up on that challenge.” 

“I fell first, but I’m going to make you fall harder.” 

based off this prompt list, i changed 23 just a tad.

AN- angst, mentions of cheating

Peter messed up, messed up so bad it was over with immediately. 

“I didn’t mean to baby! I swear I was drunk and we were about to break up, it meant nothing!” 

“You fucked another girl, Peter.” 

“Forever ago! It was when we were about to break up like half a year ago, I got drunk and we hooked up, it really meant nothing.” 

“But we didn’t break up, Peter. That’s cheating.” 

“The relationship was under different circumstances then, I thought we were about to end it. But we came back better than ever.” 

“Look at you, making excuses. It’s pathetic, Peter. You cheated, the least you could do is own up to it.” 

He sighed, “I really don’t think it is, but I can see that you do. I’m sorry, it was a one time mistake. I never did it again.” 

“Of course it was! How would you feel if I did that to you? Would you think of me as a whore, some cheap trick? Would you call me a lying cheater? Because, I really think you would.” 

He shakes his head, “Not at all. Listen, baby. We weren’t together, together. We were just hooking up, okay? I didn’t hold you to a standard and you shouldn’t either.” 

“That’s a bold face lie. You just said we were about to break up, that means you admit we were more than fuck buddies. And we both talked about staying committed while hooking up, that means no one else.” 

“But it worked out! I’m your boyfriend, and it’s been an awesome seven months. We ended up together, how we got here doesn’t matter.” 

You tugged away from his grasp, “No, Peter. It really does matter, because you didn’t tell me. If you had told me I may have been hurt or upset but I would’ve known the truth. If this isn’t a big deal then I don’t know how many other people aren't a big deal.” 

His brow furrows, “I don’t cheat, I never have cheated and I won’t cheat. This is a misunderstanding.” 

“Then why didn’t you tell me!” 

“Because I didn’t want you to dump me!” 

You stood back in silence, he knew the whole time what he did was bad. He knew what he did, he knew how it would hurt you, he knew he cheated and he knew it would kill you inside so he was never going to tell you. He was willing to go the distance with that lie, if you hadn’t been told you would’ve been his blind accomplice, maybe forever. 

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. 

Voice cracked and broken, whisper soft. 

“You know what you did, Peter. You know what you did.” 

He knew what this was, he was pleading. 

“After everything I’ve done, I still love you. With all I am.” 

You shook your head, you had no more words for him. 

It was over. 

“Please… Say something.” 

You blink and release a tear, you shug. A hasty breath released, he was waiting for the ‘okay,’ the ‘let’s talk it out,’ the ‘we’ll be okay,’ but it never came. 

based off this prompt list, this was probably my favorite i've done. thank you, thank you for the request!

Peter never thought he would see a day where he was head over heels, in fact he always thought people over exaggerated love, just a little bit. It wasn’t that serious, that painful, that enjoyable, it couldn’t be. It was a simple emotion. 

But then, you. 

And suddenly love was not a simple emotion. 

Even now, the night before your wedding he can’t help but urge you to call you, he knows you’re in a hotel preparing for the long day. Makeup, hair, bridesmaids, pictures. It was going to be torture for you, he knows how much you hate all that attention on yourself. 

He remembers that day, the first day he met you. So clearly and vividly if he closes his eyes he can sink back into time, stop it and live there. Sometimes he wishes he could, just a taste of what it was before it became all complicated. 

You drew his attention because of your hoodie, a bright red hoodie had his eyes latched on you. He believes immediately that the universe is sending him a sign, he has to talk to you. He is supposed to meet you, he’s supposed to be in your life like you belong in his. 

And it worked, and you hung out for so long. 

And he thought he had all the signs right. 

You called him out one night, as a joke. 

He admitted it. 

“Is it obvious? How infatuated I am?” 

You caught your breath, he leaned in close. Lips feathered to yours, brushing with each word. 

“It hurts me, just how much I ache for you.” 

And it worked, it worked for a long time. 

You were together for a long time, then mistakes happen and people change and things end. 

Sometimes if you’re lucky they come back, things come around. Things work out, things change, people give second chances and try harder. 

Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. 

Peter knows it’s late, he knows you have your wedding tomorrow, he knows you’re in a hotel bed, he knows you have to be up early and he knows you’re asleep. 

But he has to try anyway, so he dials the number he knows. And he waits, and waits and it rings for what seems like forever. 

Then a muffled, quiet, just woken up voice, “Hello?” 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late.” 

“Peter?” 

“Yeah?” 

A pause, he is able to blink three times before you answer.

You give a small laugh, “Babe, you’re next door.” 

“I still miss you, and it’s cold.” Peter pouts, he misses your warmth. 

“Then come see me.” 

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before we get married.” 

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” 

A pause, then “Maybe.”

“What if your future wife wants a kiss?” 

“Then I may have to blindfold myself to give the lady what she wants.” 

“Oh la la. Send a pic.” 

“Are you ready to marry me forever? Because I had it written in the prenup you can never divorce me.” 

“Peter, we didn’t sign a prenup.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. It was written in the terms and conditions that came with owning my heart.” 

“Funny, I think mine comes with the same fine print.” 

“I’m sorry if I ever hurt it.” He knows he has. 

“You did. But, you fixed it and put a ring on it. Now, you’re going to be mine forever. Get used to it.” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.” 

“Wanna do me a favor and come kiss your wife to be, in twelve hours?” 

“God, are you really that infatuated with me?” 

You giggle and lower your voice, “Oh yeah, baby. I totally ache for you.” 

Your husband, in twelve hours, groans on the other side. Sometimes he gets queasy when you mock it because it's pretty cheesy. But then he always remembers it’s what got you in the first place. 

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and make fun of yourself, you fell for the line.” 

“No, I fell for the guy.” 

“Good one. Pucker up, I’ll be over in 30 seconds.”