PETER PARKER IMAGINES

↬ Breathe

[Come to the compound. We fixed everything. He's here, he wants to see you. - Tony Stark, 4:54pm.]

YOUR WIDE EYES swiftly scanned the words illuminating your phone screen again, for what could've been the twentieth time since you'd left your apartment on racing legs. You'd received that message only five minutes prior and as soon as the heartsick ache taking over your body comprehended the characters, you had dropped everything and ran. Because nothing seemed more important than the possibilities of the meaning of that text.

You hoped, with your heart crying out desperately, God, you hoped that it meant-

Peter.

Rounding the corner with a frantic river rushing through you, your running ceased immediately. Your chest was heaving with anticipation, rising up and down at such a rate to keep in time with your thundering heart and your wide eyes were stinging with so many emotions that it was overwhelming.

But, despite everything around you being too overwhelming to think coherently, you couldn't focus on anything else. Not the lingering eyes of the others watching the scene materialise in front of them, not the stitch in your side that you'd gained from running the whole way to where you heart called out for you, not the phone buzzing in your pocket with a call from your mum wondering why you'd taken off from your apartment like your life depended on it.

Instead, all that you could see was him. Time stopped, and all you saw were the brown curls that seemed so much longer than the last time you'd seen him, the eyes of warmth and familiarity that bored into yours with such relief: the boy you loved.

Standing down the other end of the corridor was the boy you loved with everything you had. And as soon as you watched the ghost of your favourite smile lift the corners of his lips, saw the way that his teary eyes sparkled with joy and heard your name fall from his lips in a tremble saturated with such relief, the hands of the clock began again and the grey world began to spin on its axis once more with colours of happiness and radiance that it hadn't possessed since that day. The day you lost him.

And you could breathe again, a teary gasp tumbling from your lips with so much emotion and the heavy, cruel weight that had been pressing so harshly down upon your chest since you'd got the call to say he was gone finally lifted.

It only took a mere second, a sharp breath of astonishment and a beat of your heart, and you were running again. Sprinting to reach him, your hair whipping behind you and heavy tears rolling down your cheeks. It seemed like forever before his feet were moving too, meeting you in the middle where your reunited hearts intertwined once again and you collapsed into his open arms with a cry.

His wound around you so tight that it almost hurt, but it didn't matter. You couldn't find yourself to care as you wrapped your arms around his middle and vowed to never let go again, your shaking fingers desperately clutching the fabric of his shirt ever so tight. It felt so alleviating to back in his arms once more, especially after spending so long trying to get used to the fact that you might never get to feel at home in his arms ever again. He was your home. And you were home, at last.

"Oh my god, Peter," You gasped out into the crook of his neck, sobs wracking your body and the rain of tears falling onto his pale skin. "I thought I- I thought I lost you... I-I thought you were gone," You cried, your eyes squeezed shut tightly, trying not to remember the vivid, inexplicable pain you'd felt in your heart when Aunt May had told you and the ache that had put a relentless strain on it ever since.

He was clinging to you, lips pressed into your hair with frantic kisses and murmurs on the tip of his tongue. Tears were leaving a trail down his damp cheeks and he felt the dark, unmerciful abyss in his heart lighten gracefully, because of you. "I'm sorry," He muttered, the words muffled against your hair, guilt coiling in the pit of his stomach at the sound of your cries. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," He repeated, the crack of his voice and the tremble of his words making you look up at the boy that resembled that of an angel.

You shook your head, teeth clasping your wobbling bottom lip and hands coming up to ever so gently cradle his face between them. His eyes fluttered closed, instinctively leaning into the warmth of your touch that he'd gone so long without. "Don't be sorry," You whispered, sniffling lightly but submissive of the tears still jumping from your eyes of glass. "You're okay. You're here. You're safe. I'm- I'm so glad you're okay," On the very tips of your toes you leaned, pressing your lips to his forehead with such delicacy and such love.

Leaning your forehead against his, eyes closed and breaths intertwining like a stream, you felt more at peace than ever.

Peter, after spending time feeling so lonely and lost and extracted from the gracious light of life and being with you, felt himself exhaling gratefully at your words and soft touch. He really needed to hear that, especially from you.

He was okay. He was there. He was safe. And the person he loved most was glad.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Repeat.

He was breathing, his chest rising and falling gracefully. For the first time since he'd got back, he could breathe. Pressed up close to you, with the ghost of your soft breaths hitting his lips and the gentle caress of his cheeks between your palms, he could breathe.

Peter was the first to move from that position by dropping his head and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, his arms winding around your waist again and holding you tight like he'd end up alone again if he let go. You immediately responded to the loving embrace and moved to hug him closer, your fingers soothingly running through his messy curls and your lips pressing tender kisses to his hair.

"I love you," You sniffled, your words spilling out almost desperately, then another kiss to his head.

He squeezed you tighter when he heard the declaration and the remains of your tears in your croaky voice, shakily mumbling into your skin, "I love you too." He did, and he thought that no amount of words would ever express just how much.

After a few more minutes of keeping each other close, the two of you drew back a little. Your fingers brushed against Peter's as if you couldn't stop touching him or you couldn't fully let him go or you'd lose him again. Peter felt the exact same, longing your warmth and familiarity and love that he'd been denied, as he kept a close distance to you.

Both of you turned to Tony, who had watched the reunion of hearts with tears in his eyes and his arm rested gratefully around Pepper's waist. With red eyes rimmed with remnants of tears and aching, you mouthed an utterly appreciative, "Thank you." You couldn't express really just how thankful you were. Even if he did blame himself for Peter going onto the Ring, he'd also brought Peter home to you. And you couldn't thank him enough for that.

Tony let his shoulders drop slightly in relief at your gratitude, responding with a soft nod and a sorry look forged by the guilt coiling in the pit of his stomach. Then, he turned - keeping Pepper close to his side as they walked down the corridors of the compound together.

You peered up at your boy when they'd left your view, the glassy colour of your eyes holding everything you wanted to say to him since you'd found out he was gone and since he'd returned. Instead, you settled with linking your fingers with his in an assuring interlace and pressing a sweet kiss to the back of his hand.

"Let's go home," You muttered against his skin, lips moving with love.

"Yeah," He let out in a quiet whisper, completely shattered, haunted, by the unmerciful events that happened on Titan and the nightmares of feeling himself turn to nothing but dust. But, he let you guide him home - back to where he could hold you close and be okay and feel loved and in a love like no other.

He could breathe now.