Tom Holland Imagines

Chipmunk (P.P.)

"I'm sorry ma'am, but you will have to sit in he waiting room while we are taking out his wisdom teeth." She said as nicely as possible, which wasn't nice enough.

Peter clutched to you hand even more, digging his nails into your palm. He looked at you in a worried expression, but sadly, you shook your head.

"Yeah, I'll leave in a minute," you said, never taking your eyes off of Peter. You stood up from your seat and stood above Peter, not breaking the hand in hand contact. With your other hand, you massage the top of his head and kiss his temple. "Be the brave Spider-Man I know you are," you whisper against his forehead so only he could hear you.

Peter nods his head a tiny bit, prepping himself for the worse to come. And with that, you left him to pain and misery.

———

Just after finishing your next week's biology homework, a new voice called from the other side of the room. "Are you here for Mr. Peter Parker?"

"Uh, yeah, is it done?" you ask, stuffing the last bit of paper in your backpack.

The man nodded his head and motioned to follow him back. He led to back to where you left Peter in the first place and opened the door for you.

Peter laid on the dentist chair, sleeping in probably one of the most uncomfortable positions ever, with gazes in his mouth and a little bit of drool on his mouth. A little angel.

"Now when he wakes up," the man from before says, interrupting your thoughts, "he is going to be loopy from the medication we put him under. But I'm sure you can handle it." What is that supposed to mean? "There's extra gazes on the table for you to take so his other ones aren't so bloody, and you two are free to go whenever." The man left, closing the door almost all the way. Now for the fun to begin.

You sat there for about seven minutes playing Candy Crush and taking Snapchat photos of Peter (only sending them to May) and he finally woke up. At first, he couldn't get his eyes open, but he wiggled his hand around and his mouth moved a little.

You grabbed his hand, circling your thumb over his knuckle to signal you were here. Peter's senses kicked up instantly, he knows you are here, so he did his best to give you a cheery smile, but only ended up to be a droopy one.

"Hey, Petey, how are you feeling?" you ask as one of his eyes peek open. His droopy smile turns up a little more, but still looks floppy.

"Well," Peter drags out the word as his head falls slightly to the left, "Petey feels fine, he actually really wants some pie right now."

"What kind of pie?" you ask, trying not to laugh. "Apple pie? Pumpkin pie? How about Key Lime pie?"

Peter looks over at you, giving you a drunk sort of look. "Do I look that stupid to you? Actually don't answer that, but gurl, I want math pies. You know the 3.145965 number number more numbers. OH WAIT where's Y/N, oh lord where is she."

"Peter, honey, I'm right here, holding your hand," you tell him, squeezing his hand again.

The boy gave you a questionable look, "are you sure you're Y/N? Because you seem really pretty, like really pretty."

Your face flared up a bit, no, he's just on the funny drugs. "Peter, I'm still the same Y/N from before."

"No, but you seem like really pretty today, especially with your hair as loose and wavy and your ripped jeans just ARGH so beautiful." The way Peter gushed about you made you blush even more, but he's not himself, he's just, making things up.