Anon Request: 1/3 Hi I was wondering if you could write a Peter Parker imagine where he has a girlfriend that isn’t supportive of him being spider-man and is always trying to get him to give up being spider man and is mad every time he tries to talk to her about being spider man. So finally she makes him choose between being spider man and her and peter chooses spider man. But then he meets the reader and after a few months of dating he tells her that he’s Spider-Man and she’s apprehensive at first. 2/3 but ends up being supportive of him and the reader is like ok but they are some rules that are just like you have to let me make sure you’re ok after your late night crime stopping and every time he’s on a mission with the avengers he has to tell the reader he’s ok and when he gets back they have a movie night. 3/3But then the ex girlfriend comes back (you can name her idk a name for her) and is like ohh I want you back blah blah and Peters like no you were always trying to get me to give up the person I am and I found someone who is supportive of me and loves me for who I am. Then after that he and reader just have a movie night cuddled on the couch.
A/N: Decided to make Liz the unsupportive girlfriend. Don’t hate on me please.
Peter’s head whipped to the two girls sitting on the bleachers. He stared at Liz– who happened to be his crush– blush and roll her eyes, shrugging.
“Kinda,” she had said. This had Peter’s heart racing. He couldn’t believe that his crush had a crush on him back!
Of course he couldn’t tell her. He has to keep it a secret, maybe she’d like him if he’d just be himself.
But no one would want that.
But it turns out, Liz actually knew about Peter’s little crush. Because apparently, he sucked at keeping secrets. Boy, if only she knew…
After a few months of dating, and several bruises and scratches all over Peter’s face and body. Liv began to question him.
“Okay, you have got to tell me what’s happening with you and how you keep getting hurt.” She says, her arms crossed over her chest as she gives Peter a stern look.
“I told you Liz, I fell. You know how clumsy I am.” Peter held an ice bag over his blackening eye.
“Peter, do you think I’m stupid? I know that’s not from falling.”
Peter eyes glanced to his side and noticed that he hasn’t put away his suit yet.
This makes his eyes go wide.
“What?” Liz says, not noticing the red and blue suit on the floor, next to his bed. Her eyes looks into Peter’s and slowly trails off to where he was glancing at.
“What is th–” She uncrossed her arms, walking to pick up the baggy suit from the floor.
“Peter?” She says, holding the suit up, eyes scanning the whole thing. Waiting for Peter to answer.
“Surprise? You still have a crush on Spider-Man right?” He says, a sheepish look on his face. He held his arms out and wide.
“So you’re saying you’re Spider-Man? This is how you come home all beat up all the time?”
“Y– yeah,” he says, putting his arms down slowly, putting the ice bag away and tucking his hands in his pocket. “Are you mad?”
“Peter I don’t want you doing this anymore.”
“What? Why?” Peter now had his eyebrows scrunched up. Creating waves on his forehead.
“You’re just getting hurt all the time! I don’t like seeing you get hurt.”
“But I love this job.”
“It isn’t your job to save the world. That’s what the Avengers are for.”
“Yeah, well the Avengers weren’t here when your dad got crazy and almost blew up the town.”
“Nothing, just forget it.”
“Peter, you can’t be Spider-Man anymore.”
“You can’t make me do this.”
They stare at each other for a good silent minute, before Liz speaks up again.
“Well choose one,” she says, staring straight into Peter’s brown eyes, which suddenly got so dark. “It’s either me,” she holds the suit up, “or this.”
Peter’s eyebrows relaxed, and the tension in his body went away.
Without hesitating, Peter grab the suit away from Liz with the words:
“It’s a billion dollar suit, made by Mr. Stark himself. I am not letting it go to waste, and give up the one thing I love to do, to someone who doesn’t support me.”
And with that, Liz left the room running, with a few tears.
A few months after, Liz was never seen again. She ended up moving to Oregon with her mom. Still, Peter stayed away from any girls, afraid that they would all end up like Liz.
Makes you choose.
Runs out of the room and out of the state, about 2,913.4 miles away from you.
But then he met you.
You walked in the doors of his English class like a true princess.
Head held up high, your hair bouncing behind you, and your confidence radiating off of your body. You held a few books close to your chest and you had a perfect smile on your face that made everyone’s heart melt, and kept everyone’s eyes wide open.
Everyone’s eyes were on you and you were not a single bit self conscious about the way you look. Which you shouldn’t be– you were perfect.
And you happened to be seated next to Peter.
After being very close friends for a couple of months, you began to date.
“So I saw a video on Youtube,” you said, eyes glued to your laptop.
You turn the laptop towards Peter, showing him a video of none other than, Spider-Man.
“Oh, Spider-Man huh?”
You nod, turning the laptop back to you.
“You like him?” Peter asks, acting a bit suspicious.
“Yeah, he’s cool.”
You put the laptop beside you, getting up and walking towards Peter’s closet.
“Whatcha doin’ love?”
You grab the red and blue suit off of the ground of his closet, holding it up towards him.
“I thought this looked familiar,” you said, looking at the suit and then back up to Peter.
“You’re not very good at hiding it Pete.”
You fold the suit neatly, placing it back in the closet. Then turning back to Peter with a calm face, yet he had a terrified look in his eyes.
“Y– you’re– you’re not mad?”
“No… but I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Are you telling me to stop doing it?”
“No– Pete, I haven’t even said anything about it. Do you like being Spider-Man?”
“Y– yeah, please (Y/n) don’t make me choose between you or Spider-Man.”
“Peter.” You walk up to him, taking hold of his hand and leading him to the foot of his bed. You sat down, pulling him down with you. He hesitated, sighing before he sat down next to you. You turn so your body is fully facing him.
“Why would I make you choose?”
He shrugs, looking down at your intertwined hands, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.
“I wouldn’t stop you for doing what you love.”
His head lifts up quickly, staring at you with hope in his eyes.
“Well, yeah. I support you in anything that you do. Isn’t that what a good girlfriend does?”
He smiles, pulling your chin with his thumb and pointer finger towards his face.
“I love you,” he whispers, before kissing your soft lips.
Pulling away, causing him to look at you with his lip jutted out, you say a few rules.
“You’re going to have to follow a few rules though Peter,” you say, standing up.
“Rules? What rules?”
“One,” you say, holding up one finger, “you must tell me that you are okay after any late night crime stopping.” He nods his head quickly, looking up at you like a puppy.
“Two, if you’re out on missions with the Avengers, you must always tell me you’re okay. Don’t. Leave. Me. Hanging.” You were pacing in front of him as you said these rules. His head follows your moving figure.
“Three,” you say, stopping and turning your head quickly towards him.
“Movie night and cuddles after coming home from missions.”
You ran and hopped onto the couch of Peter’s living room– blankets wrapped over your shoulders, like a cape. Peter ran after you, laying down between your legs. His head on your lap while you play with his curls.
Just about fifteen minutes into the movie, a loud knock was heard at the door.
“I don’t know,” Peter said, standing up to get the door.
It was Liz.
“What are you doing here,” he said, confused.
“I’m so so sorry Petey. I’m sorry I made you choose. Please take me back, I’ve missed you so much!” The tall teary eyed girl, threw herself at Peter, hugging his shoulders and pulling him to her chest. She cried onto his shoulder and looked up, seeing you sitting on the couch with your eyebrows furrowed. Slowly shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth.
She pulls away slowly. Eyes not leaving you.
“Someone better,” Peter said, whilst closing the door. Liz stops it with her hand.
“What do you mean someone better?”
“She supports me and loves me for who I am. She didn’t make me give up something I love Liz.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest.
Peter closed the door, leaving a shocked Liz behind it.
“Liz?” you said when he turned around, walking back towards you.
“Ah,” you sigh, Peter snuggling in between your legs again and wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Which part are we on?” Peter asks, eyebrows furrowed at the screen.
“The part when the kid almost touched him and he started crying because ‘he could’ve died’.”
You began to play with Peter’s hair and you two continued to watch Monster’s inc.
Which happened to be your favorite movie when you were a kid.
“Hey, babe?” Peter says, a slight smirk on his face.
He looks up at you, “my name isn’t Sully, but you could be my Boo.”
Jonerys: Jon wakes up in bed shirtless. (Dany has already seen the scars when they bring him in on the ship) dany is sitting there in different clothes it’s been presumably days. He says in sorry. I’m so sorry. And they hold hands. I don’t rememeber some of the dialect but she says those are my only children you understand. She says WE are going to defeat the night king together. He says thank you DANY. She says no one called her that since her brother. He calls her my queen and says he’d bend the knee. She says what about those who pledged allegiance to you. He says they will see you for who you are or something like that. They stare at each other still holding hands and then she hesitates and says you better get some rest. Dany is crying whole time.
Draco feels a tremor tear through him. His fists are clenched, his jaw muscles tense, his chest tight, his knees wobbly. He’s breathing heavily as his stomach twists viciously, the hot feeling inside it beginning to spread, infecting the rest of his body. Like venom. He stares down the empty corridor, lit by torches. His vision blurs, little spots appearing in front of him. He feels dizzy. He wants to scream. He wants this feeling inside of him to take physical form, so he can punch it, destroy it.
He wants the rage to leave his body.
Well, what Draco really wants is the cause of his rage to go away. How many letters from his father is he supposed to receive calmly, while Lucius keeps going on and on about how disappointed he is in his son, not sure if he can be even called his son any longer.
Draco feels sick. His stomach gives another twist, but Draco refuses to show weakness. He will not be sick. No. He hears, rather than feels, his jaw cracking as he tenses his muscles further. His arms are shaking now. Unthinkingly, he turns to the wall and punches it. Hard. He feels no pain, but there’s another cracking sound.
Draco feels his eyes sting, which only makes him angrier. This will not make him cry. He will not spill a single tear over this. And yet, he can’t seem to stop the hot tears from running down his cheeks.
He startles when he hears footsteps echoing off the walls. He hastily wipes the tears away with his sleeve and looks up. Of course. Of course it has to be Potter!
“Malfoy.” He sounds puzzled. “What are you doing here?”
Draco doesn’t answer and averts his eyes, in fear of Potter noticing he just had a moment of weakness.
“Malfoy,” Potter repeats. Draco feels a new surge of anger course through him. He wants to hit Potter. Hexing him wouldn’t be gratifying enough. He wants to physically injure him with his hands, his whole body.
Before Potter knows what’s happening, Draco lunges at him. His fist connects with his jaw and Potter stumbles backward. He blinks a few times, obviously flabbergasted and blinks at Draco stupidly. After a moment, he frowns.
“What the hell, Malfoy?”
Draco lunges at him again, trying to land a punch. His vision blurs once more, making it difficult to see where to hit Potter. But it doesn’t matter. Draco doesn’t care which part of Potter he will injure, as long as it hurts. He wants Potter to hurt as much as he does.
But Potter is fighting back. He hits Draco in the stomach, making him flinch. He welcomes the sharp pain. It numbs the other sensations in his body. It doesn’t last long, though. Once again, he feels detached from his body.
Draco’s not sure, but he thinks he got Potter on his shoulder and punched his chest, knocking the breath out of him. When Draco starts whirling around again, striking out in an uncontrolled manner, he suddenly feels arms encircling him, clutching him.
“Damn it, Malfoy, stop,” Potter shouts. He tightens his grip, trying to get Draco to stop moving. Draco fights against the restraint, tries to break free, but Potter is apparently stronger than him.
“Bloody hell, I heard you’ve been starting fights lately for no apparent reason,” Potter squeezes out while Draco still tries to get him off him. “What is the matter with you?”
Draco just grunts and tries to shove his elbow into Potter’s side. He fails. When all his attempts fail, he finally slumps down. Potter, surprised by the sudden extra weight, tumbles and they both go down.
Draco needs a moment to realise he’s half sitting in Potter’s lap, his body still somewhat encircled by Potter’s arms. It’s too much. Draco can’t take this. The hot tears he spilled earlier are nothing compared to what’s happening right now. He’s choking on his own sobs, every inhale torture to his lungs.
He can’t even win a fight against Potter, Draco thinks bitterly. Is his father right? Is Draco really a disappointment? Draco is faintly aware that he’s heaving and puffing, his chest aching.
“Malfoy,” Potter says quietly, uncertainty clear in his voice. He hasn’t moved his arms and Draco wants to slap them away, because the warmth that’s seeping through his robes is too bittersweet for him to bear. It’s not Potter’s intention to comfort him with this proximity.
“Your hand,” Potter suddenly mutters. Draco looks down at it. His hand his bruised and swollen, the skin on his knuckles cracked. He still doesn’t feel any pain. He’s just numb, like most days lately, not in control of his own body.
He hates that he can’t get up and just leave. He’s still sitting in Potter’s lap, sobbing like a child. Draco feels a tentative finger under his chin and tries to jerk his head away, but Potter’s grip is firm. He forces Draco to look at him and Draco can do nothing against it. He stares at Potter as several emotions pass over his face. His eyes are wide and his mouth opens to release a warm puff of breath. Draco feels it on his face and it’s like Potter has struck him.
The aching in his chest worsens and Draco breaks down completely. He lets his head fall down, not caring where it lands. The fingers under his chin disappear, as Draco’s head hits something solid. Potter’s shoulder, he realises, when something soft tickles his ear. Potter’s hair.
Draco knows this is wrong. He knows Potter is getting a glimpse of something, Draco has been trying to hide from everyone. He can’t show weakness. He just can’t.
He isn’t sure, at first, if he’s imagining something pressing into his back and the warmth on his cheek, until he tries to turn his head and finds that he can’t. Because Potter’s cheek is pressing into his, his arms are around Draco once more. He’s drawing circles on Draco’s back with his palms
Draco really does know this is wrong and he has no idea what possessed Potter to actually try and comfort him, but when Draco feels a warm hand move over his head and begins stroking his hair, Draco closes his eyes and decides that, just for tonight, he will forget about everything that is wrong.