just a lovely little book of short stories about a handsome English man we all know and love and his beloved character Peter Parker x
all my own works 🤍
🎗: #1 in "tomhollandimagines" [June 11th, 2022]
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summary: reader comes home from an exhausting shift only to find hers and Peter's home torn apart. but when she saw a trail of blood leading towards the bedroom, the messy house was soon the least of her worries.
tw: includes blood, violence, rape, injuries, trauma... allllll the bad stuff pretty much
~~
It had been a long, hard day at work. The store was busy all day and it seemed that I'd barely had enough air in my lungs at every point during the entire shift.
So coming home to complete and total chaos was just the cherry on top of my already wonderful night.
My husband was nowhere to be found, papers and mail were thrown all over the floor from where I'd neatly stacked them on the kitchen table, the kitchen sink was left running so the floor was flooded, and the toilet in the hallway bathroom was clogged.
I have no idea what happened but I left this house a hell of a lot cleaner this morning than it is now. And Peter's usually home most of the day if he's not on a mission for Stark.
But he calls me before leaving for missions to brief me and let me know where he is should he not be home by the time I am.
I got zero calls all day. My phone line was completely dead. Absolutely no traffic. No calls, texts, missed messages... nothing. So it was off for him to not be here without telling me where he'd run off to.
Especially with the house an absolute wreck like this.
I mumbled something about expensive water damage when I turned off the kitchen sink. My feet splashed in the water as I walked because it was so pooled up.
After picking up the papers and such from the floor and re-stacking them onto the kitchen table, I made my way down the hallway to assess the bathroom.
I didn't make it halfway down the hall when I saw spots of blood staining the carpet. It's still dark and hasn't yet soaked into the fabric yet.
Immediately I knew something was wrong. I began feeling very sick to my stomach. I didn't feel safe all of the sudden and panicked.
"Peter?!" I exclaimed in fear, calling out for my husband and praying the blood staining down the length of the carpet wasn't his. "Peter if this is a joke it's not funny!! I'm not laughing!!"
I got silence in return, which only made my worrying so much worse. Rushing to the bedroom whilst following the blood trail led me to the sight of the doorknob soaked in blood.
A crimson red handprint was pressed into the white wooden door.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself because of what I could possibly walk in on- I slowly opened the bedroom door.
