𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Nervous Ends of the Web

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → Awkward Peter Parker, mutual pining, MJ & Ned teasing, light angst, nervous confessions, teen romance, fluff.

Summary →Peter falls in love with the new girl, debating with himself if he should drag you in his life or not.

          ｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

You’re barely two weeks into Midtown High, but somehow everyone already knows three things about you:

You actually pay attention in class and help people without making them feel stupid.

You laugh at Ned’s jokes, which makes Ned feel ten feet tall.

And Peter Parker has been staring at you like he’s trying to decode the secrets of the universe.

He doesn’t mean to. God knows he tries not to. But every time you tie your hair back or chew the end of your pen or just… exist… something in his brain short-circuits.

And MJ? MJ notices everything.

“Peter,” she says without looking up from her book, “if you stare any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole in her head.”

Peter chokes on air. Ned snorts so loudly the librarian actually stands.

“I— what— no— I wasn’t—” he sputters.

MJ flips a page. “It’s cute. Painfully awkward, but cute.”

Ned leans in, whispering dramatically, “Just talk to her, dude.”

Peter’s ears go bright red. “I do talk to her! I said ‘good morning’ yesterday.”

“You whispered it while walking past her locker at the speed of light,” MJ deadpans. “I don’t think she heard you. I’m not even sure the air heard you.”

Peter groans, slumping into his seat. “I can’t. I’m busy. I have the Stark internship—”

Ned raises a brow. “Spider-Man stuff?”

“Spider-Man stuff,” Peter mumbles.

And that is the real reason he won’t do it.

Every time Peter even thinks about asking you out, he gets this tight, awful twist in his stomach.

He likes you — so much it’s embarrassing — but he knows what happens to people close to him. Everything gets complicated. Dangerous.

He can’t drag you into the chaos.

He can’t have you worrying every time he disappears.

He can’t risk—

“Hey, Peter.”

Your voice is soft, bright, right behind him.

Peter jumps so hard that his pen flies out of his hand and clatters to the floor.

Smooth. He’s so smooth.

You laugh, kneeling to pick it up for him. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay,” he squeaks. His voice cracks. God help him.

You hand him the pen. Your fingers brush his, warm and gentle, and it sends a ridiculous jolt through him.

“I was just wondering…” you say, shifting your backpack, “we’re doing lab partners reshuffling in chem next week. Do you maybe want to— I don’t know— be mine?”

MJ, from behind her book, whispers, “Oh my God, she’s asking him first.”

Ned silently fist-pumps.

Peter turns scarlet. “Yes! I mean— yeah— I mean— if you want! I mean— I want. If you—”

He stops. Tries again. “I’d like that.”

You smile, cheeks warm. “Cool. See you tomorrow, Peter.”

You walk off, and Peter immediately collapses face-first onto the table.

MJ closes her book with a snap. “You’re pathetic.”

“But in an adorable way,” Ned adds.

Peter mumbles into the table, “I’m screwed.”

That night, Peter is swinging home, heart full, brain running way too fast.

He could ask you out.

He should ask you out.

But then there’s the robbery three blocks away.

And the chase.

And the fall.

And the bruise blooming along his ribs.

And he remembers why he shouldn’t drag you into this.

When he gets home — sweaty, bloody, exhausted — he stares at himself in the mirror.

“You don’t get to have nice things,” he mutters.

The next morning, you spot him at his locker — hoodie up, shoulders slumped, eyes tired.

You frown. “Hey Peter, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lies instantly. “Just didn’t sleep much.”

“Peter.”

Your voice is soft but firm. And he looks at you, really looks, and realizes you’re not going anywhere. You actually care.

His chest aches. This is it. He has to do it or he'll combust.

“I...” he starts, swallowing hard. “I want to ask you something.”

His palms are sweaty. Ned, two lockers down, is silently cheering.

Peter takes a deep breath. “Do you, maybe want to go out with me?”

Your eyes widen, bright and surprised. “Yeah. I’d love to.”

He releases a breath so shaky it’s borderline comedic.

MJ walks by, sipping coffee. “Finally.”

Peter blushes so hard his soul leaves his body.

You grin, stepping closer. “Pick me up Friday?”

Peter nods quickly. “Yes— I mean— yeah— I’ll— I’ll be there.”

And for the first time in weeks, that tight afraid feeling inside him loosens.

Maybe he can have this.

Maybe he can keep you safe and still let himself be happy.

Maybe he deserves one good thing.
You.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗