Paring: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: Slightly depressed reader
It was no secret to your boyfriend that you struggled handling your depression. Peter has been by your side for years, always looking to make you feel better, more like yourself. He knew everything that made you feel grounded again.
Including drawing on yourself.
Peter sat in your desk chair, watching you out of the corner of his eye. You were supposed to be studying math, and you had been for the last hour or so, but after after a while, you had given up trying to understand the book in front of you. Your pencil was replaced with your favorite pen and you followed the advice of your therapist a few years ago.
âIf you ever feel like harming yourself or feeling detached, or sad, pick up a pen.â
You didnât know if she wanted you to draw on your skin or a sheet of paper, but when you came in the next week with your whole legs covered with black pen, she wasnât surprised. In fact she looked proud that you followed her instructions, and it actually made you feel better. As you first started, your legs would be filled with drawings and words, most of them not nice things for you wrote down the things you were thinking. All the awful thoughts going through your head.
Right here with Peter though, your thoughts werenât coming through the pen as clearly as they normally did. Peter couldnât help but look over seeing the words âdumbâ and âidiotâ quite a few times before he slammed his book shut.
You jumped at the sound, messing up your already sloppy drawing as you looked at Peter.
âLetâs take a break.â He offered as you nodded, choosing not to speak. Peter didnât press you for a vocal response as he suggested a movie and you nodded silently. You scooped up the bundle of blankets you were using, trying to hide your newest drawings on your upper thigh as best as you could. Peter helped you out into the living room, pouring you both some hot chocolate before joining you on the couch. You rested against Peters shoulder, falling perfectly in place as Peter turned on your favorite movie. He glanced down at you, kissing the top of your head and smiling when he felt you wrap your arms around him.
It was pretty late when the movie ended and you were fast asleep, your body having shifted so your head laid on Peters lap. Peter took a deep breath, his lips turning up when he looked down at you cuddled into him. He brushed a strand of hair out your face, letting his fingers linger on your jawbone, thanking the fact you were a very deep sleeper. He knew lately youâd taken a hit in your mental health but he also knew you well enough to know you were feeling better than most times. It was only when you swung your leg out from the blanket did Peter tear his eyes away from your face. Those words and more stared back at him once again.
He knew some of them were a little old, the faded scribble showing him you most likely wrote them yesterday or something. But it didnât help that you felt them. Peter wanted to help you. He wanted to show you that you werenât alone in this. He was here, right here, for you.
You woke up that next morning without the warmth of Peter next to you. You were still on the couch though, Peter having made sure you comfy before he left, but he didnât wake you up. Peter always wakes you up.
You looked around the room from the couch, clutching the blankets tighter to your body before seeing a letter and your pen sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You grabbed the paper, opening it up to see Peters messy, adorable writing.
I know you were trying to hide it, but I saw what you wrote on your leg last night. Iâm sorry I let you feel that way when I was sitting 10 feet away. Next time, you tell me, I promise Iâll help with your troubles if youâll let me.
You know youâre my world Y/N.
P.S. I hope you donât mind but I mightâve used your pen to remind you how much you mean to me. Look at your leg.
Your heart felt like it stopped as you read, but as you carried on you couldnât help but tear up a little. You convinced yourself you didnât deserve Peter, he was way to good for you. With much wait on your part, you ripped the blanket of your leg, gasping in shock at the sight of your right leg. It looked almost exactly like it did that first week you went to therapy, only this time you didnât draw a single thing.
You ran your fingers across the marks of the silky pen, simple words dancing across your thighs as you covered your mouth with your hand.
âBeautiful,â It said.
You looked at some of the drawings he did, marveling at the fact you hadnât caught him before a certain drawing caught your eye.
It was of when Peter asked you out. He wasnât the best artist but you understood it enough. Peter bought you a bouquet of flowers that were bigger than your heads. You giggled at the memory, remembering him stuttering over his words before you grabbed his hand, helping him out. You moved on from the drawing, seeing many other drawings and then tiny hearts scattered around your skin. Some of them had spiderwebs connecting them, just small doodles Peter did that only made you smile thinking about a tired Peter doing this just to make you feel better.
You wanted to go find him, but you stopped at one of the words you scrawled across your mid thigh last night.
âUnlovable.â Peter had boxed the word up, a single strike line going through it and underneath in the most perfect Pete handwriting sat three little words.
Thatâs when you finally turned into a river letting your tears follow down. It wasnât the first time you said you loved each other but this felt different. It was Peter giving you strength, telling you no matter what that he was here for you.
And he wasnât going anywhere.
A/N: Okay, so i wrote this mainly for my self as a pick me up cause I honestly needed it. So, tell me what you think please! I donât know if itâs actually good writing. I wrote in in like a hour đ€« also my legs may or may not be completely covered in pen right now giving me the idea to write this...
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