𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Her Happiness

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → angst, rehoming a dog

Summary → You re-homed your dog for her own good.

Requested by @AnimeDweeb2020
Hope this brings you a bit of comfort.

          ｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

The apartment felt wrong.

Too quiet.

You didn’t realize how much noise your dog made until it was gone—the soft clicking of nails on the floor, the little huffs when she curled up, the way she’d follow you from room to room like your tiny, loyal shadow.

Now there was nothing.

Just silence pressing in on your ears.

You sat on the edge of the bed, hands clenched in the fabric of your shirt, staring at the empty space near the door where her bed used to be.

Your throat burned.

You told yourself not to cry again. You’d already cried enough in the car, enough while handing over the leash, enough when you walked away and didn’t look back—because if you did, you knew you wouldn’t be able to leave.

But your chest still hurt like something had been ripped out of it.

The bedroom door clicked open softly.

“Hey…”

Peter’s voice was quiet, careful, like he already knew.

You didn’t turn around. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “I texted you. You didn’t reply.”

You hadn’t even noticed.

A moment passed, then you felt the bed dip slightly behind you.

“You okay?” He asked gently.

That question—that stupid question—made your eyes sting instantly.

“No,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m not okay.”

Silence.

Then his hand came up, hesitant at first, resting lightly on your back like he wasn’t sure if you wanted to be touched.

That was all it took.

You turned suddenly, grabbing onto his hoodie, pressing your face into his chest as the tears came back harder this time.

“I miss her,” you choked. “It feels so empty, Peter. I hate it—I hate it so much.”

“I know, I know…” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you tightly, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. “Hey, it’s okay. Let it all out.”

You shook against him, fingers gripping his hoodie like if you let go, you’d fall apart completely.

“I keep thinking she’s gonna come running in,” you said between sobs. “Or scratch at the door or jump on the bed and—she’s just… not there.”

Peter didn’t interrupt. He just held you closer, his chin resting on top of your head.

“That makes sense,” he said softly. “You’re used to her being part of everything. Of course it feels wrong without her.”

You pulled back slightly, eyes red, cheeks damp. “Did I do the right thing?”

There it was.

The question that had been eating you alive.