peter parker/tom holland imagines

waiting | p.p.

angst? mentions of past ed, mentions of purging, mentions of sex (like one), cursing a bit, mean petey, panic attck kinda

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after the war with thanos, peter had grown distant. and you didn't blame him, you figured that he was giving himself a break, he was taking time to heal. and you  understood that, peter was grieving. 

you always tried to be there for him, but he made it hard sometimes. 

never did you hold it against him.

peter had lost his mentor, his teammates, and beyond that- his family. you didn't expect him to move on, it was a lot at once, even more so with the blip. he was still adjusting (you were too, but this was different).

he spent nights on the couch, outside who-knows-where, and sometimes... sometimes he would drink. you took note of the fact he tried not to do it around you. 

but some nights he would come home late, stenched in the strong odor of beer and sweat. peter would be drunk and snappy, and yes, at times it scared you. 

not that you'd ever tell peter that. 

but his "grieving" grew unhealthy, and who were you to let that slide? he wouldn't eat or drink properly, god knows about his hygene, and he wasn't getting enough sleep. so you made him cooperate, which did result in many arguements, but it did work for the most part. but your relationship, you felt, wouldn't ever be the same.

date nights? what were those?

kissing? nope.

sex? no. never. (not that it was a big deal for you, you could care less about that.)

no hand-holding. 

and no cuddles. cuddles. none of those. 

peter snapped at you often. he struggled to contain his temper, and easily grew annoyed. it was like even the smallest remark could lead to something big.

"peter, you have to eat. you didn't have breakfast."

"you didn't either."

"that's different. i haven't been skipping my meals."

"why? you've been throwing up instead?"

he watched as your face twisted into disbelief and pain. but you pushed it away, dead-set on getting peter to eat.

"this isn't healthy, love."

"neither is you getting on the scale a hundred times a day."

you had been checking your weight more frequently again, part of the reason being the fact that you were scared peter didn't love you anymore because you were getting fat. but it wasn't unhealthy. 

you recognized the problem. you told your therapist, stopping it from becoming something bad. 

but peter wouldn't know that. he wouldn't know anything.

"please don't go there," you whispered quietly, "i just want you to be happy, okay? and healthy." that must've been where he felt like the conversation had ended, so he left. you didn't know what to do anymore. so you cried. because that felt like the only thing you could do right.

-

(first person)

"i just don't know what to do-"

"you know you have, like, an actual therapist for this, right?" mj asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"well, yeah, but she doesn't know peter like you do."

she sighed, locking eyes with me, "y/n, peter's being a dick, and i don't know when he'll see that you aren't somebody for him to take his anger out onto. you shouldn't be taken for granted."