imagine tom holland in a live action flushed away…
if a thought could be cursed it would be this

if i look back, i am lost
Claire Keane

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@peterparkerslego
imagine tom holland in a live action flushed away…
if a thought could be cursed it would be this
“What are you doing? Oh, this is nice.” I’ve been waiting for this hug since the “just-grabbing-the-door-for-you” moment in Spider-man Homecoming.
ugh it's honestly adorable
Breathe | Peter Parker/Reader
WARNING! ENDGAME SPOILERS AHEAD!
✏------------------------------------------
You lay with your head on his chest, forehead pressed to the base of his neck. Peter holds you by the waist, as if you're something he never wants to let go. Something he'll never, ever let go--not even in his current unconscious state.
But that doesn't last long. Your hand that rests over his heart starts to tingle; Peter's heart rate shoots up, and it's beyond noticeable. His grip tightens on you--just as his breathing quickens as well.
"Peter?" You call into the darkness of his room. Well, nearly darkness. There's the lava-lamp on his dresser--but that's besides the point. "Babe," even your voice seems to worry for him.
"Y/N?" Peter asks, hiccups split your name in half. "Y-Y/N?" For a moment, his hands roam your back, your waist, your arm. "He--you--Mr.Stark.." And you know the whole story by now.
He's had these nightmares ever since Tony Stark... passed. He, Peter, can describe to you every detail about his companion's death. Every flame, every person surrounding them in that moment. Everything. His dreams reflect on it; every night.
"Peter... it's okay, breathe, baby." You try to scoot away; sit up, but he doesn't let you. If anything, he presses you further into him. "Just breathe.." You coax.
Eventually, he calms down enough to speak without such a trembling voice. He tilts towards you, to look at your face. For a moment, the terror in his eyes subsides. But then it returns.
"H-He said it was okay, he said, he said, 'It's okay, kid,' a-and instead of staying still... h-he turned into dus--dust, Y/N, I was back in that place, and--and you were there--" his grip, once again, became tight around you. "I don't want you to be there. No one should be there."
"I know, baby, I know," you take his face in between your hands, brushing your thumbs over the purple bags underneath his eyes. "But you're okay, now. Look," you reach over and turn the lamp on beside his bed, then lay back down with him. "Look around, you're at home, safe."
In the hall, you could hear May shuffle around. Everyone knows how worried she is for Peter; she wouldn't leave his side you showed up, the night after the funeral.
"I'm okay, too. See?" You stick your tongue out at him, scrunching your nose just a little. "Better than okay, actually. I have you back."
The look on his face, it's one you'd pay to see everyday. Especially after five years of thinking he was dead. That smile, it glows brighter than the lamp... it even reaches his eyes. You watch him, admiring for a moment.
"Let's go back to sleep, okay? You have all of Queens to save tomorrow, Pete.." Leaving the lamp on, you rest your head back into the crook of his neck, kissing his cheek beforehand.
And as if you are the cure to every nightmare he's ever had, Peter sleeps soundly the rest of the night.