𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Always Together - P.P

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → angst, fluff, mental breakdown

Summary → Pregnant Y/n breaks down, feeling helpless, but Peter comforts her and try to make things easier.

          ｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

You’re standing in the kitchen, staring down at the bowl in front of you, trying to muster the strength to finish preparing lunch. Your hands shake, and tears brim in your eyes. The weight of your growing belly makes it hard to stand for too long, and your back aches so much that every movement feels like a battle. You want to sit down, but the thought of asking Peter for help—again—makes you feel guilty. He’s already been doing so much. He just came back from patrol, he's already exhausted.

A sharp kick from your baby jolts you, making you wince.

“Okay, okay, I get it. You’re hungry,” you whisper to your belly, trying to rub the spot where the kick landed, but it only makes the baby kick again. Frustrated, you let out a shaky breath, your emotions bubbling up faster than you can control.

The kitchen door swings open, and Peter strolls in, his usual carefree smile lighting up his face. But the moment he sees you, his expression shifts to concern.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks gently, walking toward you.

You can’t hold it in anymore. Tears spill down your cheeks, and you drop the spoon you’re holding. It clatters onto the counter as you bury your face in your hands.

Peter's arms are around you in an instant, pulling you close but careful not to press too hard against your belly. He guides you to a chair, easing you down as you sob into his chest.

"I can’t do this anymore, Peter," you cry, your voice muffled by his shirt. "I can’t even make lunch without feeling like I’m falling apart. My tummy’s so huge, it hurts sometimes, and the baby won’t stop kicking. I just... I feel useless."

Peter crouches in front of you, his hands gently resting on your knees as he looks up at you with those warm, comforting eyes. He brushes a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his voice soft and soothing.

"Hey, you’re not useless. You're growing a whole human in there—our baby. That’s amazing, and it’s more than enough. You don't have to do everything by yourself."

"But I can’t do anything, Peter," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I feel so weak, and I hate that I need help with everything."

Peter shakes his head, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "You’re not weak. You’re the strongest person I know. And you don’t have to do everything alone. That’s what I’m here for, okay? I want to help you, I need to help you. Let me, please."

You sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "But you’re already doing so much. You shouldn’t have to take care of me too."

"I love taking care of you," Peter says softly, his fingers brushing through your hair. "And I love our baby—even if they’re a little kicker." He smirks, his playful tone breaking through the heaviness of the moment. "Just think, they’re already showing off their Spider-strength."

You laugh through your tears, a weak but genuine sound. "I guess they are."

Peter’s hands gently move to your belly, where he rubs slow, soothing circles over the spot where the baby is kicking. His touch seems to calm the baby—or maybe it's just the warmth of his hands—but the kicking slows down, and for the first time in hours, you feel some relief.

"See?" Peter smiles up at you, his eyes soft and full of love. "They’re calming down now. They just needed to know Dad was here."

You exhale a shaky breath, feeling your body relax slightly. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You’ll never have to find out," Peter promises, kissing your belly softly. "I’m always going to be here for you—both of you."

A moment of silence passes, and you lean back in your chair, closing your eyes as Peter continues to rub your belly. His fingers are gentle, and the rhythmic motion starts to lull you into a sense of calm you didn’t think you could feel today.

"Why don’t you take a break?" Peter suggests after a while. "I’ll finish making lunch, and then we can watch a movie or something. I’ll get all the pillows on the couch just the way you like them."

You hesitate for a moment, but the idea of resting—really resting—sounds too good to pass up.

"I don’t want to make you do everything," you mumble.

Peter shakes his head, standing up and kissing the top of your head. "I want to do this. I’ll feel better knowing you’re comfortable."

He moves back to the counter, picking up the spoon you dropped and continuing to prepare lunch as if nothing had interrupted him. His movements are so natural, so full of care, that it almost brings tears to your eyes again—but this time, it’s because of how much love you feel radiating from him.

You lean back, resting a hand on your belly as you watch him cook. The baby gives a soft kick, and you smile, feeling a little more at peace.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Peter glances over his shoulder, his smile bright and full of warmth. "You never have to thank me, babe. I’m the lucky one."

Once lunch is ready, Peter sets everything up on the coffee table in front of the couch. He arranges the pillows and blankets just how you like them, making sure you have everything you need before helping you lie down. You sink into the cushions, feeling like you can finally breathe again.

Peter sits beside you, pulling you into his arms, careful not to put any pressure on your belly. He hands you a plate of food, and for the first time all day, you feel like maybe things are going to be okay.

As you lean against him, his hand rests protectively on your belly, and you realize just how much you rely on him—not just for the physical support, but for the emotional comfort he brings you every day.

"I love you," you whisper, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I love you more," Peter replies, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

And for a moment, everything feels perfect.

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