spiderling ; reader imagines

Sleep || P.P.

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warnings: none, I think

~

Your head was resting on the kitchen counter, your body slumped across the books laying in front of you. You had lost track of time of how long you had been sitting in the kitchen doing your work. The coffee sitting next to your head was cold, but you didn't have the energy to get up to stick it in the microwave.

You had worked all day today after class. Thankfully, though, you worked in a coffee shop so that the energy was right at your fingertips whenever you needed it. The shop had been busting today, customers pouring in, more than likely considering that it was parent visit weekend at the university in town. Your break was non-existent today and your feet were aching from the shoes you decided to wear today. Looking up at the clock, it was half past 2. You groaned loudly, trying to keep the tears in. 

Peter heard your outburst from the bedroom and it woke him. Still delirious, he looked to his side and when you weren't there, he got up and left the bedroom. He could hear silent sniffles as he entered the hall. When he made his way to the end, he leaned on the wall, watching you. Your clothes were still on from today... well  yesterday and your hair was falling out of its ponytail.

Your head hung low and Peter could hear the soft tears hitting the paper beneath you. He knew how hard that you had been working in the past few weeks, keeping yourself going. You were never one to turn down opportunities and wanted to keep your plate full all the time. Peter had told you countless times that you needed to free up some time. Repeatedly, you reassured him that you were alright. It hurt to sit back and watch you struggle so much.

"Bub?"

Your head looked up sharply, you wiping your tears away noticing Peter's presence. "Hey, why are you still up?"

"I could ask you the same question..." he accused, making his way over to the stool you sat on.

You threw off the blanket that sat on your shoulders, grabbing the coffee cup like nothing was wrong. "Just finishing up some homework. I had a busy day at the shop and couldn't take my break." You turned around and opened the small microwave door and stuck your coffee inside. "I'll go to bed when I finish"

"Y/N..." he began, walking up behind you and resting his arms around your waist. "Go to sleep. Take a break"

You turned around in his arms, feeling his lips nip at the spot under your jaw gently. He stopped when you met his gaze.

"This is my break. I gotta get it done, Pete"

You broke out of his hold and walked back over to your spot at the counter. Peter went around to the other side, facing you like during dinner. "There's nothing I can say to get you to stop, is there?"

You shook your head wearily, but not enough to let Peter know that something was wrong. He sighed before rounding the corner of the kitchen. You thought that maybe he had gone to bed, but you realized you were wrong the moment you heard the TV in the other room. Peter decided that if you weren't in bed, then he wasn't gonna be either. His eyes were heavy, but his heart more so. He hated knowing that you were working yourself down to the bone. He couldn't remember the last time you had gone on a date with each other, sat down and watched a show with him, left the house with friends in the evening. The worst part is that he couldn't do anything.

You stared down at the chemistry problem that had been haunting your mind since close to the beginning of the night. You had skipped over it, not worrying about it, thinking that the solution would come to you later. But the more you went over it, you realized that you didn't know. And you didn't want to ask Peter for help considering that it was basically his major. But you were too independent for that.

Your past had taught you that you couldn't rely on anyone but yourself. Peter was slowly tearing down those walls, but you still didn't like showing weakness to him, even after a year into your relationship. Peter knew how hard-headed you were and how much you wanted to be able to do things on your own. It was one of the reasons that he had asked you out in the first place. But he soon learned that that was who you were all the time, never wanting to be vulnerable in the presence of anyone. He had only witnessed you cry a handful of times. You knew that someone would ask what was wrong and that showed inability.

You didn't realize that the paper was being stained with more tear drops until the words blurred into a mess that you couldn't understand it anymore. You felt like your lungs were closing up and you wanted to close in on yourself. You needed air in your lungs, but no matter how much you tried to take a deep breath, your lungs would only go shallow.

Pushing yourself away from the counter, you knocked over the chair you had been sitting on. But you didn't hear the bang. All you could hear was your breathing and all you could feel was your muscles shaking, something that you couldn't stop. You felt your legs ready to give out and when you thought you were gonna fall, you felt someone catch you. Vaguely, you heard a voice calling for you, but your lips wouldn't move to respond. You felt the person help lay you down and you leaned against their bare chest and left tears dripping down it. You felt numb.

Peter only jolted up when he heard something fall on the other side of the wall. He called for you, but when you didn't answer he made his way over. He could see the tremors in your body shake you violently and see the way that your chest heaved like it was suffocating.

"Y/N?" he asked concerningly. 

He kept repeating your name, but when he saw the way that your leg were bending, he pushed his way across the kitchen just in time to catch you.

"Y/N, love, what's wrong? Are you okay? Y/N? Y/N?"

He felt you curl up into him, so he sat down and leaned against the cupboards on the floor, you in hand.  His hands went through your hair, the other one holding you up rubbed up and down your arm, trying to soothe your shaking muscles. He sat with you and held you until your breathing returned back to normal. You both sat in silence for a long time even after you could see and hear everything around you.

"Bub, are you doing okay?"

"No" you managed to muster out.

Again, silence filled the room. He didn't argue with you or yell at you. Only held you on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night. He cared for you when you were at your lowest.

"Please come to bed with me" he subtly whined.

You looked up, still weary and your hands shaking. He grabbed them upon seeing them and laid his head against yours. "Come to bed with me and take some time off of work. I know that you want to do your best, but you aren't going to be able to do it much longer if you work yourself to the bone. I love you and hate seeing you like this"

His eyes contained so much worry, concern for you. You hadn't felt loved like that in a long time. Too scared to respond to him, you just nodded. Carefully, he took you off of his lap to stand. Once he was up, he held his hand out for you to take. When you followed suit, he scooped you up in his arms. You were thankful for it because you weren't sure that you could stand. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you cuddled into his touch. He carried you over to the bedroom, leaving your unfinished work in the kitchen and the TV on in the living room.  He pushed the door open with his back when he made it far enough down the hall to your bedroom.

Peter looked at your tired form in his arms and placed you gently on the bed. You fell out of his arms and he began to take your clothes off. You helped him unbutton your jeans and slip off your sweater while he grabbed one of his shirts from the closet. Your hands went up to grab the shirt, but he placed the shirt over your head for you before you could do anything. He helped your arms in and when completely dressed, you rolled over to face his side of the bed. He smiled at it and made his way around. Sitting down on the side of the bed, he grabbed the covers that were at the end of the bed and pulled them over the both of you. He laid down and immediately felt you scooch closer to him. He threw his arm around you and placed your head and hand that wasn't under you on his chest. You felt his lips graze the top of your head and his hand rub circles on your bare hip. Twisting your legs in his, you could feel your eyes ready to close. The last words you heard were the silent 'love yous' slipping from Peter's tired mouth and you knew then that everything was gonna turn out okay.