Peter Parker One Shots

Boundaries

It wasn't Peter's fault.

It was Ned who invited him over for a sleepover, knowing full well his unusually attractive cousin had been living with them so that she could attend Midtown Tech. It was Ned who fell asleep halfway through their Star Wars marathon and forced Peter out with his gargantuan snores.

It's his best friend's fault that he was in the kitchen getting a glass of water when she walked in. Peter almost choked because how the hell can someone manage to look so good in sweatpants and a loose shirt?

Her hair was messy, strands hanging here and there over her forehead and in the air, but she found a way to pull the look off. Kind of like a cat, waiting for the perfect person to cuddle into and purr.

Peter found himself wanting to be that person.

Which utterly sucked because even though it hadn't been directly stated by Ned, there was a clear red sticker reading off limits on her face in bold letters. It'd be easier to listen to if she was just gorgeous but no - she had to be smart in that modest way where she blushed every time she had to correct him, and she had to be so kind to the point where he sometimes found himself thinking she'd be a better Spider-Man than him.

The only thing that keeps him from handing over the suit: she's the clumsiest person he's ever met.

That's how she ends up dropping a cup of milk onto his feet that night, plastic clanging loudly as it bounces across the floor and the liquid soaking through Peter's socks and straight to his feet in a cold wave. He'd of been agitated if the look on her face wasn't so damn funny. Her eyes were wide pools in the darkness and apologies flooded through her lips faster than Peter could say that it was fine and he would live.

She's rushing at him with a towel nonetheless, and when he finally assures her that he's not going to chop her head off her smile turns shy. Gaze suddenly content with avoiding his and teeth sinking into her bottom lip in the awkward silence, his stomach does a flip at the adorable sight.

That's when he fully addresses the fact that he's screwed.

Peter Parker's never really been one to follow the rules.

He tries his best though. In the following months, he respects the sign to the best of his ability - even if he does find himself stumbling over the line when she smiles at him or does anything remotely sweet.

So, yeah, that's all of the time.

It's only so long before Ned notices. Days before the Homecoming dance, when Peter's particularly on edge because he doesn't know how to handle her not being his date, his best friend rolls his eyes and mutters, "Dude, just ask her to the dance."

Peter jumps so hard he knocks the apple off his lunch tray. "W-What? Who?"

Ned shoves a tater tot into his mouth, one corner lifting in amusement. "You know who, idiot. You've been pining after her for months."

"But...I thought that..." He's trying to connect the dots but it's all jumbled and all his mind can give to him is, off...limits?

"That'd I'd have some kind of problem?" He smiles fully this time, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Peter, you're my best friend. I want you to be happy. And if that means you have to get with my cousin, I'll have to swallow down the vomit on my own time."

They both chuckle, Peter's heart swelling at the reminder of how lucky he is to have someone as awesome as Ned as his friend. "Thanks, man."

The relief that had disintegrated from his shoulders hardens into nerves. Taking a bite from his apple and trying not to completely panic at the thoughts of what if someone already asked her and how am I even going to ask her, he tries to focus on the main problem casting shadows over him.