#so tasm peter coded

[sincericida]

TOBIAS DURANT

[toastybugguy]

Seeing Macbeth (2024) combined with rewatching TASM2 in theaters next week is a deadly combination because yes I am back on my bullshit

[labwebs]

🕸"no more curses you can't undo/left by fathers you never knew" "running away go to it/where did you have in mind?/have to take care/unless there's a 'where'/ you'll only be wandering blind/ just more questions/different kind" "the trouble is son/ the farther you run/the more you feel undefined/for what you have left undone/and more what you've left behind" uUUUUUUUUUUURGH.

[loverangels]

studying

pairings: tasm!peter x fem!reader

synopsis: you've been studying too hard and peter claims he knows a way how to help you relax....

The table is a war zone of textbooks, flashcards, and crumpled-up papers. Your laptop hums faintly, its screen covered in tabs upon tabs of lecture slides, practice quizzes, and YouTube tutorials that are supposed to help you understand this mess. But all it’s doing is making your head spin. Highlighter clenched between your teeth, you scribble furiously in the margins of your notes, the weight of finals week crushing you like a boulder.

You don’t even notice Peter standing in the doorway, watching you with his usual mix of amusement and fondness. His hoodie sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, and his hair is delightfully messy from whatever project he abandoned to come check on you. “Lovey,” he calls softly, but you don’t answer, too lost in your spiral of academic doom.

Peter takes it as his cue to come closer, his footsteps barely making a sound. Suddenly, you feel warm hands on your shoulders, and before you can protest, his lips are brushing against the side of your neck. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it’s almost a purr. “How’s my favorite genius doing?”

You groan, tilting your head away from him to focus on your notes. “Peter, I don’t have time for this. Finals are next week, and I’m going to fail if I don’t—”

“You’re not gonna fail,” he interrupts, trailing another kiss just under your ear. His hands squeeze your shoulders gently, working out a knot you didn’t even know was there. “You’re way too smart for that.”

“Peter,” you scold, finally twisting to glare at him. “I mean it! I’ve got, like, five chapters to get through tonight alone, and if you keep distracting me, I’m seriously—seriously—going to fail!”

Peter just grins, entirely unbothered by your threats. “Sweetheart,” he coos, leaning down so his lips are practically brushing your ear, “my smart girl could ace these finals with her eyes closed.”

You groan, letting your head fall into your hands. “I’m not your smart girl right now. I’m your stressed-out, on-the-verge-of-a-breakdown girl.”

He crouches down beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he peers at your color-coded chaos. “You’re overthinking, lovey. You always do. You’ve been studying for weeks. You’ve got this, I promise.”

You sigh, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “It’s not overthinking, it’s being prepared. I just—ugh, I don’t know. I’m stressing, okay?”

Peter’s silent for a beat, but you don’t trust the look on his face for one second. That mischievous little smirk is forming, the one that makes your stomach flip in equal parts dread and anticipation. “I think,” he starts, his voice dropping to a playful drawl, “I know a way to help you relax.”

You whirl on him, narrowing your eyes. ���Peter Benjamin Parker, don’t you—”

But it’s too late. In one swift motion, he pulls you out of your chair and into his arms, peppering kisses across your face and neck as you squirm. “Pete!” you yelp, laughing despite yourself. “Stop it! I’m serious!”

“I’m serious too!” he counters, grinning against your skin. “Serious about making sure my girl doesn’t burn herself out. I’ll even quiz you later, but right now? You’re taking a break.”

You try to scold him again, but he’s got that stupidly endearing look in his eyes, the one that makes it impossible to stay mad at him. And when he finally sets you down, his hair even messier than before and his smirk utterly smug, you realize he’s right. Maybe finals aren’t so impossible after all. Especially with Peter Parker by your side, distracting you in the best way possible.

[moonstruckme]

idk if u listen to taylor swift but her song mastermind (which is kinda like maneuvering things around to get together with someone) would be so cool to read with TASM! Peter !! Maybe the reader realizes Peter is Spiderman after recognizing his voice and then tries her hardest to become Peter’s friend in school and kinda puts all the pieces together herself (+ the line ‘to assess the equation of you’ is so peter coded) also I feel like smart reader deserves more rep 😞 like no way she wouldn’t recognize his cocky ass voice

Again this is just like. Me spilling out my random thoughts 🤭 -🍁 (sorry for spam)

Hi lovely! I didn't stick to this very faithfully, but it did inspire an idea that I'd be remiss not to give you credit for! It's established relationship, where reader has figured out Peter is Spiderman (I agree she's not dumb and that needs to be regonized). Thank you <33

cw: a whiff of harassment (more of an attempt really, but if that will upset you please don't read)

tasm!Spiderman x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

It’s hard to feel totally vulnerable walking around the city at night when you know you’re never really by yourself. Peter thinks he’s so stealthy, but he can’t always avoid casting shadows on the street ahead of you; you were bound to catch onto his well-intentioned stalking eventually. You’re not totally sure why he doesn’t just walk you home as himself (you’re coming from his apartment, it’s not like it would have been so difficult to ask), but your boyfriend seems to prefer stepping into his alter-ego when he thinks there’s any possibility for danger. 

It turns out this time, he was right.

It’s not that you don’t see the man walking in the opposite direction of you (you’d have to be blind to miss the slow, performative up-down he gives you) or notice his mouth moving in your periphery, but you’re city-trained; you keep your eyes ahead, hoping he’ll see that you’ve got your earbuds in and leave you alone when he doesn’t get the attention he wants. 

The man passes you, and you’re thinking you’re in the clear when there’s a forceful tug on your elbow. You very nearly pitch forward in your haste to get away from the unwelcome touch, but then the hand is wrenched away, and you turn to find the man stuck to a newspaper dispenser with one wrist covered in a familiar white filmy substance. A second later, and his other hand is webbed to the car behind him. 

You pull out your earbuds just as Spiderman lands in front of you, the tilt of his head indicating that he’s looking you over for damage. 

“Hey, what the fuck!” The man sputters. “I was just trying to pay the bitch a compliment—”

“Alright, thanks for that, pal.” Spiderman webs his mouth shut, and your harasser continues his muffled protests. “Maybe we just have different styles, but most of my compliments don’t start with unsolicited commentary on a stranger’s boobs.” 

You curl your lip, and the man looks like a dog on its leash the way he’s tugging against his restraints. Your rescuer webs his feet in place, stopping their scraping against the sidewalk.

“You know,” he says, turning to you, and he’s not even trying to disguise his voice, “you should really have at least one earbud out if you’re walking by yourself at night. That’s just the first entry in the Pretty Girl Guidebook.” 

You grin at him. “I think the first entry in the Pretty Girl Guidebook would really advocate more for playing damsel in distress to lure charming heroes your way. Walk me home, handsome?” 

You start back on your way, and he follows you like it’s all he knows how to do. He’s quiet, and though you can’t see his expression behind the mask, you wonder if you’ve actually startled Spiderman into silence. If he expects you to be bashful and awestruck, he’s got another thing coming; you’re typically a bit shy around new people, but Peter isn’t new people. 

“Yeah?” he asks after a second, and you wonder if you’d be able to detect the slight pitchiness to his voice if you didn’t know it so well. “So was that the plan all along? Get yourself attacked to get yourself rescued?” 

“No.” You shrug, casting a disdainful glance back toward the man who’d grabbed you. “I don’t go out looking for trouble, but I know that if it finds me,” you say, looking up into the mask with a simpering smile, “I’ve got Brooklyn’s friendly neighborhood hero to protect me.” 

You think he actually gulps. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, sweetheart, but you really should take some precautionary measures too.” 

“Well, I suppose I could’ve asked my boyfriend to walk home with me,” you muse, “but he seemed like he was eager to have me gone. Better things to do, apparently.”

“What?” It’s a squawk, and then Peter clears his throat from behind the mask. “I’m sure if your boyfriend’s a sensible guy—which, I mean, anyone who managed to snag a girl like you must not be totally airheaded—I’m sure he didn’t mean to rush you off.” 

“I don’t know.” You frown, looking off in front of you contemplatively. “He’s book smart for sure, but he can be kind of dense sometimes.” You can feel your companion’s hesitation like a prickle at your side, his uncertainty of how to go about this conversation with you, and it catches him offguard when you stop to look up at him with coy, wide eyes. “Do you think you’re a sensible guy?”

His voice is strangled. “Me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, slowly moving into his space. 

“I—I like to think so, sure.” 

It’s all you can do not to giggle at how easily his cocky persona has come undone. You’re having too much fun to even feel bad about the torment you’re inflicting upon your boyfriend. “Maybe I should be with you, then,” you say. 

He actually takes a step back. “But—but—uh, listen, you’re really pretty, but didn’t you say you had a boyfriend?” 

“Yeah,” you say softly, batting your eyelashes up at him, “what about him?”

You’ve got your hands on his shoulders, lips so close to his face you can feel the warmth of his breath through the mask, and you actually think he’s going to do it. He’s going to let you kiss him. You shove playfully at his chest, unable to contain your laughter anymore.

“Pete, c’mon,” you say, careful to keep your voice low. “You must think I’m an idiot. You really thought I wouldn’t recognize you?”  

There’s a few moments of wordless sputtering which you can’t really hold against him, and then Peter’s whisking you into an alley, pulling his mask off. 

“Sorry for fucking with you,” you say while he’s still getting his bearings. He runs a hand through his hair, eyes wide. “It was just so easy to flirt back. You made it too much fun for me.” 

“Jesus, babe.” Peter fists a hand in his hair, already fluffy from being handled so much. “When did you figure it out?” 

“I mean, before today, but not very long ago,” you admit. “I knew something was up for a lot longer, but I didn’t put it together until you helped me with that mugger a few weeks ago.” You quirk a playful eyebrow. “You should at least try to distort your voice if you’re going to be Spiderman around people who know you in real life, you know.” 

“Never had to with Flash,” he mutters. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

You turn a bit more sheepish, unsure if you should feel guiltier about keeping your realization from him. To be fair, though, he’d kept a whole crime-fighting secret identity from you. “Is there ever a right time?” you ask him with a little shrug. “I guess I eventually wanted you to tell me on your own. I get why you didn’t, but it’s not like you’re exactly choosing to trust me here.” 

“I do,” Peter says immediately. He takes your shoulder in hand, like he needs to keep you steady to make sure you’re hearing him. “I do trust you, honey. It was never about trust.” He passes a hand over his face, shock melding into something more like dread. “It just, it could be dangerous for you, if you’re ever seen with me and it's obvious you know who I am, or something. I didn’t want to drag you into anything. There are…not everyone thinks of me as the friendly neighborhood hero you do.” 

He gives you a little smile, and you return it, stroking his jaw in an attempt at comfort. “I know,” you say softly. 

“We’re going to have to be careful.” 

“I know. Pete?” 

“Yeah?”

“If we’re being careful, you should probably put your mask back on.” 

[periprose]

i kno its not everyones cup of tea but would u ever do tasm!peter parker as a baby girl dad?? like reader and him are parents to a baby girl 🥹🥹 maybe even pregnant reader!! ajfdhjfd i have many thoughts but i kno again not everyone likes pregnancy/baby stuff

yeah maybe!! honestly I had a dream about this once. It was pretty cute and I can see myself writing something about it lolol. I love babies and pregnancy stuff tbh. If it was feasible financially I'd love to be a mom too!! Baby fever goes hard lol

and I just know tasm Peter would be so good at being a dad... he would love that lil baby to pieces.

Like just imagine him balancing his work and little baby Mayday (just abusing the canon baby name here lol sorry MJ) on his knee. She's full of giggles and wandering hands constantly touching whatever tech he's working on.

And Peter's all gentle so he pulls her away with soft hands, not wanting to dissuade her, just for her safety, but he secretly loves that his daughter clearly takes after him.

"Who's gonna be a cute little inventor, huh? Is May-May gonna take after her papa Peter Parker?" He jostles her around and she shrieks with laughter.

Eventually he'd set up a LEGO block corner for her so her hands can stay busy. And Mayday loves building things, so eventually Peter looks over to see just the top of her red hair, as she's mostly obscured by the giant LEGO wall she built.

And he's be so proud, the first thing he would do is show you when you get back home from work:

"Look at what May made!" He would hold her up and she'd grin really proud as they both motion towards the big wall she made in the corner of your bedroom.

"Aw, you wanna be an architect like Mommy?" Because of course you'd be an architect in this scenario, and it would be a hilarious, small-fake-beef between you and Peter. And Mayday, not really processing your sentence, nods, adding to your shit-eating grin.

"Uh, no, just wait until she gets into software. Mayday's gonna be a coder like her Papa." Peter fixes his glasses and side-eyes you. Mostly jokingly.

"Well, I don't see any tech embedded inside the LEGO wall." You coo at Mayday, who's reaching towards you from Peter's hands. "You want to build beautiful, artsy buildings in the heart of the city like Mommy, right?"

"Nuh-uh." Peter puts on a silly, girly voice mimicking Mayday, placing his face behind her as if his voice is really coming out of her. She bites her thumb, laughing. "I wanna be like Papa because coding actually does something."

"Hey!" You pull Mayday out of his hands, with a falsely offended gasp at his audacity to use Mayday in his propaganda. "Housing important things is something, you jerk."

"Yeah, but it's not an action executed by a program, is it?" Peter prods your shoulder. "Architecture is cool and all, but it just... is."

"Wow." You blink. "Why did I marry you?"

"Papa?" Mayday tilts her head at you and you burst out laughing, rubbing your face against hers.

"Yeah, May."

"Cool." She points to him, and you roll your eyes, as Peter takes this with some nerd-afflicted ego.

"Yup. Papa cool, May."

"You so told her to say that." You shake your head at him, and he shrugs, pulling the two of you into a hug.

Whatever Mayday does, you know you'll both be proud of her.

(NGL I could write this into a whole actual fic if we want it, instead of a blurb lol)

[underoospeterparker]

you said Peter Parker I’m HERE.

what about tasm Peter with reader who gets stressed out over something, maybe going slightly nonverbal. and whatever task reader is trying to do he’ll help doing it step by step, and explaining everything that happens quietly even if it’s obvious and asking lots of questions and giving options to make u feel more in control <3 and generally just being a perfect bf !!

he's so boyfriend coded i wanna scream!!!

peter parker x gn!reader

"(Y/N)?" You felt Peter's hand skim over your back, soothing strokes up and down that had you relaxing slightly in his arms. You leaned forward, however, you continued pressing violently at the keys on your laptop in a desperate attempt to finish your essay.

You squeezed your legs together on Peter's lap, pulling your computer closer to your chest. "Hey." His voice drew you back to the present, to his fingers scratching at your scalp. "Bub, you wanna take a break?"

When you shook your head, Peter frowned, and you felt guilty for being the one to put it there. Not guilty enough, though, because you continued to type on your document regardless of Peter's pleas.

"You've been working for ages," he commented, kneading gently at the fat of your stomach. He smiled when he felt you start to go lax in his arms, but it vanished when you immediately got up from his lap in search of another, less distracting location to finish off your essay.

"Honey," he called, then got up entirely to follow you. "Please, just ten minutes, alright? It's not good to be studying for too long. Is that okay?"

At this, you looked up at him from the sofa on which you had plopped yourself on. "I don't know," you whispered, and Peter cooed softly at your indecision.

"That's okay, sweetheart." He paused for a second. "Do you want a hug, maybe?" He murmured quietly, trying not to frighten you.

You nodded, and he was quick to wrap you up in his hold, arms stretching around your back, rubbing diligently when you buried your head into his chest. You stayed there for a while, and Peter let you, knowing you needed the hug especially now.

When you pulled away, he did too, but not before kissing your forehead and interlocking your hands with his. "Okay?" His whisper was soft.

Bobbing your head up and down, you motioned for him to sit next to you on the sofa.

"Do you need some help?"

You nodded, and Peter grinned, a smile that brightened his entire face and made you want to kiss it off. "You should've just asked, baby. You know I'll always help."

He took the laptop off your lap, putting it on his instead, so you rested your head on his shoulder while he looked over your work. He noticed you starting to drift off into sleep, your eyes shutting and then opening again.

Peter pressed another kiss to the side of your head. "Y' can rest your eyes for a little, honey. I'll wake you up in a bit. Just relax for now."

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Babbling ~ P.P.

A/n: Sorry for missing Monday, but here’s this <3 Another request done :)

Request: “Tasm!Peter x male reader where reader gets invited to a party and brings Peter as his plus one or whatever and Peter getting drunk and touchy and confesses and saying how he wants to be with him and spend the rest of his life with him...” by anon

Word count: 2700+

MASTERLIST

Peter Parker and Y/n had always been a story for the ages.

It hadn't been life long friends, and their meeting hadn't been all that important. They'd had a class together and as both of them engaged with the content and asked questions and did reports and read out loud, their faces became familiar with each other. Then Spider-Man had gotten caught up in a fight and his mask had come off. Y/n had been stunned to see the big brown doe eyes of the cute guy in his AP bio class.

It had been the most anti-climactic thing, truly. Y/n had discovered a sight dedicated to "fangirling over Spider-Man" except that they didn't do much discussion or giving of content. However, when Y/n went through the internet looking for pictures with Spider-Man's face, there was a startling very few available. For how many hungry reporters and shocked civilian or eager tourist was here and with how often Spider-Man lost or destroyed or just straight up took off his mask, there should be more.

When he found that there were images, they were just unavailable, he deep dove it and used his skill witch coding to figure out what happened. And what he uncovered was stunning - the website "dedicated to fangirling over Spiderman" was either a cover, or they believed that the best fans were dedicated to keeping Spider-Man's secret identity a secret. Peter Parker was New York's little secret.

It made Y/n so curious to meet the man. So of course they had to.

Asking for notes or a pencil or complimenting a sweater or giggling at his jokes that he said under his breath turned into lunches together for convenience and then studying together and then suddenly they were friends. Exchanging phone numbers and inside jokes and nicknames.

It was obvious that he was Spider-Man if you knew what you were looking for. His poor excuses and his sudden exists and late entries. Cancelled plans right when Spider-Man was needed, and all for a job that didn't even pay that well.

Peter was fairly good at hiding it. He was a disaster - a mistake waiting to happen - but he had a whole city behind him so it was okay.

It made Y/n fall in love with Spider-Man even more.

And maybe Peter Parker too.

There was something about the boy though. Something darker that he shook off when he had the mask. Something heavy that was easy to miss when you couldn't see his facial expressions. There was a distance when Y/n would jokingly flirt or be physically affectionate. He offered to take Peter to meet his folks once and Peter had seemed... to not like that. He had squirmed and wriggled, desperate to get away. When he came up with an "emergency" and Spider-Man stopped a mugger and got a kite out of tree Y/n knew that he shouldn't bring it up again.

It was obvious that Peter had lost someone, so Y/n tucked away any realizations or feelings and let them stay casual friends. Not best friends, not truly close - always at an arm's length. But friends.

Until, of course, Peter got drunk.

Peter never wanted to go anywhere or do anything. Y/n was pretty sure he was depressed. Which had driven him to try and get Peter out more, to find him hobbies and past times. Peter had come to the parties and gatherings and slam poetries and walks and clubs Y/n had dragged him to, just like tonight, with the understanding that if he needed to leave he could at any moment.

It didn't seem that moment would come tonight.

At some point Peter had put down his phone and walked away after having a few drinks, getting looser and more relaxed. He never went far from Y/n but seemed to have a hard time sitting still or staying in the same place. They paced or walked in circles and that seemed to do the trick. Y/n had noticed the other man put down his phone after checking the time and walked away again, so Y/n had snagged it for safe keeping. He would give it back tomorrow morning.

It took a lot or drinks for Peter to get proper wasted, but it happened. It seemed to be absent minded and on accident. He kept talking and walking, keeping his voice above the music in the room, and Y/n found himself trailing after in a love sick haze. Peter was gorgeous on his own, but the way his face light up and his hair got messier and messier... he was breathtaking when he went on rants, and Y/n was more than pleased to listen.

So he didn't stop Peter from drinking. And to be fair, neither did Peter.

Y/n knew they'd both made a mistake when Peter stopped walking, leaning against a table behind him and sighing. Y/n came closer to check on him and Peter reached out, fingers wrapping around Y/n's waist and face pressing into his shoulder. Y/n's body blossomed with heat and something akin to a buzzing, making him tense but giddy.

He tried to ignore that.

Peter sighed, leaning against Y/n, and the more sober of them gave a little chuckle. "You okay, Pete?"

"You're so comfy," was all Peter had to say. His voice was soft and airy, almost sleepy. But he had no problem mostly keeping himself up, nor did he seem to sway or buckle. He was just... drawn to Y/n. Like a magnet.

Y/n blushed. "Thank you."

Peter stared, for a long time, not saying anything. Y/n got nervous, shifting. The look was full of adoration and warmth. Admiration simmered at the edges, a sappy smile smearing across his face. "Did I ever mention that you look really attractive when you get all..." he tilted his head, searching for a word. "Blushy." He giggled. "Shy? No. Not just shy, but reserved too. Nervous." His face flitted briefly into a scowl, but when he went from trying yo grasp the word in his mind to admiring Y/n again, the smile came back. "I'm glad we met."

Y/n couldn't get the courage to look at him. "So am I." He cleared his throat, melting under that gaze. Under those words. "Perhaps we should get home."

Peter nodded. "I don't want to be here anymore. Let's go somewhere - just us." He took Y/n's hands, taking longer to do so as he traced Y/n's fingers and sighed blissfully at the contact. Like he was relieved after so long wanting it. Like how Y/n did when he felt the touch.

"Yeah. If that's what you really want." Y/n closed his eyes, chastising himself and forcing himself to stay focused. "Tomorrow. Tonight you need sleep." He began walking, keeping an eye on if Peter needed help walking, but he didn't. Not surprising for the same Spider-Man that could balance on a string that seemed thin as hair, or cling to any surface.

Peter whined and Y/n had to hide a smile with his free hand. "Not tomorrow," he begged, tugging on Y/n's hand. It was almost like a child begging for candy in the store, but less dramatic and much mote desperate. The thought of leaving Y/n seemed to genuinely upset him... Y/n didn't know how to feel about that. "I'll go to bed if you spend the night."

Now that was dangerous.

Y/n only hummed in thought, actually considered it. Drunk people were hard to handle and even if he didn't, he would need to lie to Peter to get him home. If the superhero genuinely didn't want to go or decided that messing around with Y/n to prolong their time together it would he near impossible to get ahold of him again...

They got all the way to Peter's door before he spoke again. "Are you staying?"

Y/n gave him a sideways look as he pushed the door open, having snagged Peter's keys from his pocket. He'd thought he's gotten away with it after such a long silence, but it seemed Peter was eternally patient even drunk. He sighed as they moved into the apartment, Peter always snatching Y/n's hand the second they were free. "Why does it matter so much to you that I stay, hm?" He pulled himself away from the drunk man again, closing the door and putting the keys away. Pulling Peter's jacket off and removing his shoes and grabbing a glass of water and Ibuprofen for tomorrow morning, setting it on the table at Peter's bed. It was only when he seemed finished, about to head out again, that Peter caught him.

Holding one of Y/n's hands in each of his, looking deep into his eyes, Peter didn't just seem genuine, he seemed raw. Exposed. "Y/n. I've been punishing myself for so long... always alone. For so long." He closed his eyes, pressing their foreheads together. "It's suffocating me, the loneliness. And you make it easier to breathe. So... stay. If you want." He swallowed before adding a breathless, "Please."

Y/n's heart was ramming in his chest. "If you need a friend tonight, I can of course stay." He added friend on purpose this time - to remind himself.

That seemed to upset Peter though. "Don't call yourself that. Please, please don't-" he closed his eyes tightly. "I know we're friends. And I'm goad we're friends. But don't remind me we're friends when I want to kiss you so badly. Please."

Y/n's breath caught. "Pete-" He stopped himself. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "Drunk words are sober thoughts. That's a popular saying for a reason."

Oh god.

"You- I-" Y/n's face was burning and he was running out of reasons to go. Ways to deny it. Peter was Spider-Man. There's so much Y/n still wasn't supposed to know. They'd been friends for a while now, and they were just getting close. There was still that gap though. That space that Peter kept.

Now he was throwing all of it away.

Peter didn't wait for Y/n to form thoughts. He let go of Y/n's hands, reaching up for his face instead. Peter's face trailed Y/n's jaw. "Can I kiss you? I... I've wanted to kiss you for so long. If you felt the same way. The way your heart is racing, I thought you might."

Y/n's eyes widen. Of course he can hear heartbeats. The world wouldn't be as unfair as it was if he couldn't.

But also, how could be lie now? When Peter knew he was? And maybe it was selfish, and he'd get his heart broken in the morning, but Peter was begging and god if Y/n wasn't just as eager.

"Okay."

There was no hesitation after that. Y/n had expected raging fire, or fireworks, but there was none of that. It was relief, cool to the touch like a breeze on a sweltering day, or a breath after drowning. It was laying in bed after a long, exhausting day or drinking something warm and sitting by the fire after a day of ice and snow.

Y/n did more than just stay over. It happened so fast, each kiss getting more and more desperate until their hands were wandering and they were falling back onto the bed and Peter didn't stutter a single second. He didn't stumble or hesitate. He had seemed to drink so much but all his words came easily, any slur he'd had before completely gone. He seemed sober.

Y/n was an idiot.

He tried to leave, but Peter had gripped onto his arm and begged him to stay. So Y/n woke up next to him in the morning, slipping out of bed and wandering into the living room.

Okay so that had just happened.

He felt like a villain. He felt like a moron. Peter had been drunk. FUCK he was a horrible person.

Out of part guilt and part anxiety, Y/n tidied the living room and kitchen before beginning to make breakfast. He couldn't in good will just leave Peter alone that morning, but he also couldn't stay in that bed. See Peter panic when he woke up and realized what had happened.

Would he panic? Would he be angry?

He would be justified to feel angry.

Y/n jumped when a set of arms wrapped around his waist from behind, a face burying into his shoulder. "Smells good," came Peter's muffled voice.

Y/n wordlessly finished the food, plating it and turning off the stove before turning to Peter. The brunette seemed weirdly unphased, taking each thing and making two plates, then wandering into the living room to set them down on the clean table, plopping onto the couch. He smiled. "And you clean? I'm spoiled."

Y/n crossed his arms over his chest, a little confused and a little annoyed. "Peter. We need to talk about last night."

The smile faded off of his face and it happened so easily that Y/n was stunned to realize it had been more fake than he'd realized. "I'm sorry."

That came as a shock too. "You're sorry? You? Peter, I'm sorry."

Peter looked up at that, narrowing his eyes in confusion. "I'm the one who was pushing you into-" He looked away. "You obviously regret it, and it was stupid, and I'm sorry I just-"

Y/n scoffed. "Peter, you were drunk. You were more honest than you usually are. That isn't a bad thing. But you were drunk, and I wasn't, and I completely took advantage of you and-"

Peter tilted his head. "I wasn't drunk."

Y/n froze. "What?"

Peter blushed. "Well- I was drunk at first." He looked away, fiddling with a couch pillow. "But by the time we got here I was pretty much sober. I have some what of a healing factor, so-"

Y/n's eyes widened. "You have a what?"

Peter looked back, his expression dripping with amusement. "Y/n, I'm not good at keeping secrets, and you're not good at it either. My mask is hanging up on the hook by the door and you hung up my keys next to it and didn't even blink."

Y/n's head whipped around and - sure enough - there was the mask.

Damnit.

He looked back sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I... just..."

Peter laughed, standing from the couch. "It's okay. I... appreciate it, honestly. Most people demand explanations or details or ask an overwhelming questions. When I realize you knew?" He shook his head. "How long have you known?"

Y/n pursed his lip, shrugging. A... while."

Peter snorted. "Since the beginning then."

Y/n winced. "Not the very beginning."

Peter laughed again, this time closing the distance between them. "I don't know what you were beating yourself up for but I hope you realize that you don't have to. I was drunk, and that made me much more affectionate than I usually am... but, it was the affection itself that drove me insane.  It was likeI'd been starving." He shrugged. "I probably was. But kissing you..." He smiled sweetly.

Y/n blushed. It was quiet for a moment before he asked, “So you’re glad last night happened?”

Peter grinned. “Yes. I am.” He shuffled, as if he wanted to ask something but felt too silly to do so.

“I’m glad it happened too,” Y/n eased. Peter melted in relief, his expression blooming with adoration - so close to the way he had looked at Y/n last night. Y/n took his hand, tracing the bones and veins. “Do you�� want to be my boyfriend?” He cringed - it felt so silly to ask. Like he was in middle school all over again.

A chuckle came from Peter, but his answer didn’t follow in the form of words. Instead he reached over, catching Y/n’s chin and leaning into a kiss. They sighed blissfully at the same time, and Y/n divided that was answer enough.

-

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Unpopular Opinion that may get me cancelled:

This may sound ridiculous but I genuinely don't ship MJ and Peter. Like there's no iteration of them that ignites any type of emotion within me whatsoever.

If I'm being completely honest. It's like "Yes, heterosexual white couple with a woman basically written to be your perfect match from day one, with no sort of later internal conflict or growth at it's basis, yes, give us nothing and argue about the same thing for 50 years"

Every MJ and Peter scene I've seen in my life I've watched like

Completely emotionless and unmoved. There is no conflict to me. We know they end up together. It's been 70 years. The end.

MAYBE MCU Michelle and Peter from the MCU but even then that's like one specific scene from Far From Home.

But even in ITSV the whole time I was straight faced cause like....

Yeah, they get back together. Of course they do. And if they don't even better for me.

I am a Felicia Hardy supremacist. No offense to MJ but give me a strong sexual assault survivor who is wholy independent, has her own moral code and goals, and is openly ready to deal with conflict between her and Peter even if they still love each other.

Like.. enough of the 'gf sitting at home worried about her superhero bf'. I want the story where the bf is the one worried about his gf doing crazy superhero shit (Peter and Felicia)

Like you can't tell me you be watching MJ Peter scenes not knowing what's gonna happen or what they're gonna say or do they second the scene starts.

It's the same every time. Even if they try and throw in a little conflict it still ends the same.

YEAH and I'm counting NWH because we know we're gonna see Michelle again. The very obviously set up that she remembers Peter so,

When I'm watching Felicia and Peter - talking the video game - I genuinely don't know what's going to happen, what Felicia's angle is, or how they're going to express their emotions to each other.

There's conflict that actually develops over time and effects their relationship on a deep level for years in the comics.

They write MJ to be perfect for Peter, so every argument or breakup they have is contrived or forced as hell (One More Day). And they expect me to be on the edge of my seat.

At least TASM went for Gwen.

No shade to people who ship them though and I mean that.

It's just- It's just not for me. I need some conflict and growth here.

I will always ship Peter and Felicia first.

On the basis that their differening moral codes but willingness to see the other side while not compromising their morals plus them not falling into traditional relationship labels is just more compelling to me

Seeing a SA survivor taking back her power by becoming a vigilante, finally growing to trust a man who's face she hasn't even seen, and then coming to terms with who he is under the mask, as well as questioning her moral code of stealing - to be that's way more interesting than whatever the hell him and MJ got going on back at home.

I love MayDay tho.

This is one opinion from me you ain't gonna change. I ain't gonna argue about it. This was a Felicia x Peter blog before it was a Hobie one. Bring out the casket I'mma drop dead on this hill

[callme-secret]

And They Where Neighbors

TASM Peter Parker x Oc

Plot - peter parker sucks as an upstairs neighbor.

not my best work, but i want to get back into writing so sometimes you just gotta put stuff out. Please leave any helpful comments!

×××××

Suspiciously cheap rent is always suspicious for a reason. Brie knew this. Everyone in New York did, it went without saying. Cheap rent meant rats, or mold, or a creepy landlord that talked a lot. Cheap meant no one else wanted to live there. 

So when Brie found a one bedroom apartment in her budget, walking distance from her school, and with working ac, she knew to be cautious. It even claimed to allow pets. (Normally code for the place came with its own pets already.) She couldn’t imagine what they were trying to sugar code. It must have a bed bug infestation, or it was haunted by a poltergeist. Maybe it was all some elaborate way to kidnap her and sell her into sex trafficking. There had to be a catch.

Brie knew of a million things that cheap meant in New York, but she was desperate. So when she went to tour, she wore a face mask in case the walls did in fact contain the next bubonic plague, and her thickest boots, in case she had to stomp her way past whatever vermin lived there too.

But there was no vermin, or mold. It was actually quite nice?

The landlady, Mrs. Zhang was kind and in her mid forties. She explained that her and her husband owned quite a few buildings, but this was their first one so they felt quite attached to it. They themselves had once lived here when they first moved to New York, and had spent nearly all of their young adulthood living here.

They took good care of the place, made sure to keep up with renovations, and all of the other upkeep. It really did show too. The building looked warm even from the outside. Red brick walls, black rimmed windows, and a navy blue front door, all screamed home. Even the entrance was clean. A tan hallway with a well organized mailroom and a black staircase. There wasn't even a missing floor board.

The apartment itself was even better. Sure the kitchen was small, and the appliances a decade old, but there was a big window in the bedroom with a fire escape right beside it, and enough space to fit her desk. There was nothing growing in the pipes, no sign of rodents or bugs. It was perfect.

“Why is it so cheap?” Way to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Mrs. Zhang pursed her lips. “To be honest with you, we can't seem to keep a tenant for longer than three months and we don’t know why.” 

Okay, first red flag. Apparently three tenets had come and gone in the span of the last year, all without reason and with quick getaways. The weird thing was, this problem only seemed to happen to the one apartment, everyone else in the building had been living there for years now with no incident.

So, Brie reasoned what was life without risk? If no one else had issues maybe it was all some big coincidence.  She and her cat moved in the next week.

And for a while Brie wondered why no one could last longer than three months. As far as she could tell there was no better place to live. Her neighbors were nice, one had even brought her cookies after she moved in. (an older woman named Tony, who smelled like pickled sugar.) She only had to contact Mrs. Zhang once about a flickering light in the hallway and it was fixed within the week, and nothing could beat her commute. What once was a twenty minute subway ride, and a bus ticket, was now a ten minute walk. Brie was actually showing up early to her classes, just to prove she could.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with this apartment. Brie thought she might have actually been in love with the place from how perfect it was. Then the other shoe dropped.

It started small at first, or maybe she just started to notice it slowly. Her upstairs neighbor was a night owl. Not that big of a deal, except for the fact that y/n could hear him at 3 a.m. seemingly breaking into his own apartment. Every night like clock work, he would scale the fire escape like it was his own personal entrance, and struggle with his window. The wood swelled with the summer heat and Brie knew from personal experience it made it nearly impossible to open any window. Yet, her upstairs neighbor forced it open, everytime, before he fell face first into his apartment with the loudest thud possible. Waking her up. Every time.

Even when he was successfully inside, her upstairs neighbor had no idea what keeping it down was. All night he would stay up, eventually she put together he must have been an engineer of some kind. The vents carried broken conversation, mainly curses, but Brie could put together the few words she had. He complained a lot about things not working, and said a lot of math equations that sounded like gibberish in her ears. Either way, his voice filled her apartment, even at the crack of dawn.

There was also the annoying fact that everyone in the building seemed to love him. (Of course they did, they didn’t have to live below him.) Tony raved about the boy upstairs who always helped bring up her groceries. Mrs. Zhang always mentioned how if her husband couldn't make it out, Peter, as everyone referred to him as, never minded helping her fix squeaking door hinges or leaking pipes. Even Mr. Harbinbridge, the grumpy old man that lived on the first floor, liked him! One time he mistook Brie for this Peter. It was the only time she ever saw him smile.

Fine, Peter couldn’t be that bad, just noisy. Brie could live with that. She’s had worse neighbors, even roommates. Then her cat got stuck in the window.

Sir Issac Mewton had never been a skinny boy. Even when Brie first adopted him, the orange tabby cat weighed nearly fifteen pounds. Still, he wasn't fat, he just carried a lot of muscle. At least, that was the mantra Brie repeated in her head.

The mantra died however, when she first saw the ball of wiggling orange fur. Brie had memorized the exact amount of space to leave her window open in order for Mewton to slip through. He liked to explore, and who was she to take that away from him. She wished she took it away from him as she watched him howl from between the window sill. 

So maybe she had notice Mewton putting on some extra pounds, but this was excessive. Brie knew it wasn't from her, he had been explicitly banned from anything that wasn’t his veterinarian approved diet cat food. As far as she knew, that's all he ate.

The investigation lasted less than a minute, before Brie peaked her head out of the window, now lined with orange fur, and spotted what looked to be a bowl on her upstairs neighbors stoop.

This was the last straw. This so-called Peter could be loud at ungodly hours, he could even be annoyingly loved by all, but he could not make her cat fat. This is where she drew the line.

So at 11 p.m. on a Sunday, in her hello kitty pjs, and her untied yellow converse Brie found herself in front of his door. Mewton clutched between her hands as if the feline could do something to protect her from the clearly bad idea forming in her head. Most of the heat she had felt downstairs had smoldered on her walk up. Mainly the idea of how silly she was being.

Brie lived with mewton and knew from experience how persistent the cat could be to get some extra kibble, no doubt he had conned poor upstairs peter into thinking he was a starving stray. The whole complex always raved about how kind of a person he was, he was probably just trying to help. A kind person just doing his best.

Yes, she was being silly. She’ll go back downstairs and try to catch him in the morning. Explain that Mewton was not starving and actually is on a weight loss journey. Brie was sure Peter would understand.

And then, Sir Issac Mewton, the traitor he was, meowed. Loudly.

The shuffling of feet behind the door made Brie freeze. This looked bad, didn’t it? She was in her pjs for god's sake, how the hell is she gonna explain this one?

Peter opened the door rather quickly, for how late it was. For a beat the pair just looked at each other. Brie thought to herself a few things. One, well at least he was also wearing pjs, though she did not peg him for a pokemon man. Two, of course he was cute. The boy had to be at least 6 '2, with fluffy brown hair, and brown eyes hidden behind cute, in a dorky short of way, glasses. He smiled. Y/n forgot the other things she was thinking about.

“You found my cat!”

She’s going to kill him actually.

“Your cat?” She echoed back, her voice sounding flat in her own ears.

Peter smiled rather sheepishly. “Well I suppose he’s not my cat, I just feed him from time to time,” he reached out to scratch Mewton’s chin. “Poor thing always comes crying, like he hasn’t eaten in days.”

Mewton, still being the traitor he is, started to wiggle in her arms like she hadn’t fed and raised him for nearly five years. If Brie was thinking level headily, she probably would have just blamed her stupid chubby cat. It was him that was manipulating everyone in this corridor right now, but she was not thinking level headily. Months of letting things go had pushed her to a point of no return.

She smacked his hand away from her cat, and glared straight into his stupid brown eyes. “Sir Mewton is not starving. He eats twice a day, with very expensive diet cat food I can only get from the vet’s in midtown, so if you would please stop feeding him!” she should stop there. “And for god sake, do you know people live below you? Have you ever thought once why they can't keep a tenant down stairs? It’s you! And the routinely 3 a.m. fight with your window, or how about the fact that you can’t use a front door? The fire escape is not your own personal entrance Peter! Do you ever think outside of yourself? Christ!”

That was too far, Brie regretted it the second she said it. Especially when the poor boy just looked so confused. But she was a coward, a very angry coward, that turned on her heel and quickly bolted to the staircase. Not without a “He’s not your cat!” shouted over her shoulder.

Mewton meowed rather pathetically in her arms.

Peter Parker stood, rather dumb folded, and admittedly rather confused in his doorway. The smallest "sorry" leaving his lips before he could even fully process her steps receding down the stairs.

[also-fours]

i usually dont like the parksborn ship because in most adaptations i actually don't see peter and harry as that great of friends

in the raimi films, harry's too busy being a jackass like 90% of the time and being part of this dumbass love triangle

in spectacular, we're told that harry is peter's best friend but because we barely know him he just kinda comes off as kind of a jackass, and then he ACTUALLY becomes a jackass when he starts taking the globulin green and kinda stays like that for the whole show and when he's not being an overt asshole he's barely there or just gets one tiny moment where he talks to peter about mark's addiction

in tnas, yes they're actually great friends but i can't see that as anything but platonic, sorry, there's not exactly any gay tension there, they're just believable as good friends

in tasm, the peter and harry friendship happens so fast and goes downhill so fast that i can't find it as a believable friendship

in the ultimate cartoon, they're great friends there but it's the same thing with tnas, not to mention i can't imagine this version of peter being in ANY relationship with anyone, (aroace king?) and i dont like how this version of harry venom is done

in the 90s cartoon, im tellin ya, i watched the whole thing like a year or two ago, they barely talk i cant see shit there

and in the 2017 cartoon, they're good friends there, but all the teen characters are like. the same character. so you can argue peter being shipped with harry makes as much sense as him being shipped with miles or gwen or anya because they're all the same except anya's angrier and miles is funny

...but in insomniac

holy fuck

they are so fucking gay

they either used to be in a relationship together or they're currently in a poly with MJ

it's so queer-coded

even the actor for harry, graham phillips, agrees

and don't even get me STARTED on how he acts later on in the game

it's such a mix between "i fucking hate you for what you did to me" and "i still love you though can we be nicies again 🥺🥺🥺"

i still don't ship the two but i can totally see them together

also this version of harry? best harry

im sorry but he is

and i am absolutely ASHAMED that my favorite version of harry is the one that becomes venom

yes he did great as venom if you ask me but fuck, man

i like 'em better when he's flying around in green and purple tights

[sincericida]

Some things never change about my favorite scientist.

[mqonlighting]

new series got me thinking about how percabeth is so tasm!gwenpeter coded

like that one scene in tasm 2 where gwen fixes peter’s web shooters for him for his battle with electro and mid battle when they work he just goes “THANK YOU gwen stacy” or smt like that?? that’s SO percy when annabeth.

ALSO the part where they’re arguing and gwen is like “i’m coming with you, YOU NEED ME” ?? an idiot like percy really does need annabeth and he KNOWS it!!! she is the brains of the operation

(i just needed an excuse to bring up spiderman)

[webslingingslasher]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM692j7B8/

i know not everyone sees frat!peter as tasm!peter, but omg he looks so frat!peter coded in here (imagine trouble trying to leave after an argument, and pete uses his web to bring her back 🤭)

ugh he’s so…. daddy

trouble would be mad as hell (not really)

‘you can’t keep using my weak spot for spider-man to get peter out of trouble! it’s not fair!’

[moonstruckme]

Congrats on 7k Mae!!!! 🌟🌟🌟🌟 i’m requesting a cym as characters you write for ❤️❤️❤️

Omg fun!!! Thanks sweetheart <3

James - @bruisedboys because Mal has always felt so much like a James to me, she goes out of her way to be kind to everyone and make them feel included and it's so sweet

Sirius - @ellecdc and I have had several discussions about the ways in which she's Sirius-coded and also I saw her marauders bingo which I believe ended in that result, so it's a done deal haha

Remus - I think @mareagirls has sort of a gentle, kindhearted vibe like Remus and they just match up well in my head

Lily - @writtenbymoonflower is Lily lmao sorry I don't mean to oversimplify but her name is right and just the vibes are there. Soft and also cool

Steve - and see @fourmoony should have been a marauder logically but she just strikes me as a Steve-esque character, very multifaceted, friendly and well-liked by everyone, can get shit done but cherishes opportunities to be soft

Robin - @inkdrinkerworld gives me Robin because I think Fawn is really sweet and funny and she also just seems highly competent. Like part of what makes Robin so endearing to me is that she's whip-smart and quippy while also being soft and idk that just fits in my head

Spencer - @kquil is just so so soft and kind, she's also very approachable which to me matches Spencer's sweetheart vibe

tasm Peter - @velvetcloxds just has such a grounded (grounding? both) vibe to me, Monique seems really cool and is also just such a creative person, and I think Peter gets underappreciated for what a creative thinker he is! Like we all know he's quick but he's also inventive and based on Monique's art I think she's the same

[via-l0ve]

Teenage Dirtbag is so TASM! Peter coded