𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

A Delayed Worry

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → period talk, pregnancy scare, mild stress, fluff, domestic intimacy, light humor, brief cursing, mentions of condoms.

Summary → Your period is delayed and Peter's freaking out.

          ｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

You sat on the edge of your bed, your knees pulled up to your chest, staring at the calendar app on your phone. The little red dot marking your usual cycle start date glared back at you accusingly. Four days late. Four. Days.

You sighed, tossing your phone onto the bed beside you. It wasn’t like you didn’t know why. Between your university finals looming like an ominous storm cloud and the part-time job you juggled, your stress levels were through the roof. Stress could easily delay your period. You knew that. But Peter?

“Babe? Did it start yet?” Peter’s voice carried from the living room, where he’d been pacing for what felt like hours.

“No, Peter, not in the last five minutes since you last asked!” You snapped, exasperated.

A soft knock sounded at the bedroom door before Peter peeked his head in, his curly brown hair a tousled mess from running his fingers through it repeatedly. His wide, anxious brown eyes met yours, and you felt a pang of guilt for being snappy. He was worried—maybe a little too worried—but his heart was in the right place.

“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, stepping inside and closing the door. “I’m just… freaking out a little. You’re sure it’s just stress?”

“Peter, I’m 99.9% sure,” you replied, standing up and walking over to him. “We’ve been careful. You know that.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, still looking unconvinced. “Yeah, but accidents happen. Like… what if the condom broke and we didn’t notice? Or—”

“Peter!” You interrupted, placing your hands on his shoulders. “I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything is fine. But if it’ll make you feel better…” You walked over to your desk, pulled out a pharmacy bag, and held it up triumphantly. “I bought these earlier.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Three tests?!”

“Figured one wouldn’t be enough to calm you down,” you said with a teasing smile.

“Good call,” Peter muttered, biting his lip nervously.

You grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

---

Ten minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, holding all three tests like they were golden tickets. Peter sprang up from the couch, where he’d been bouncing his knee in anticipation.

“Well?” He asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

You held the tests out to him. “All negative. See?”

Peter grabbed them and examined each one like he didn’t believe you. “Negative… negative… negative,” he mumbled, relief washing over his face. “Oh, thank God.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Told you it was stress.”

“I know, I know,” Peter said quickly, setting the tests down on the coffee table. “But, like, what if they’re wrong? Do we need a blood test or—”

“Peter Benjamin Parker!” You interrupted, poking his chest. “You’re spiraling. I am not pregnant.”

Peter nodded, exhaling deeply, but you could still see the flicker of worry in his eyes.