Spider-Man Imagines I

I'd Fight For You | Flash Thompson [TR]

You weren't a fan of horror movies, but you could tolerate them. Some were even funny enough to feel more like a comedy, making it all around easier to watch. The less gore, the better - but Flash, your boyfriend, always picked the movies with the most blood and death.

It wasn't a scary movie to him unless someone got their head chopped off with a machete. As much as that bothered you, you watched all the movies with him.

At least he held you while the movie was on, because by the end, you were always practically in his lap.

Today, he had brought a brand new movie that he was excited for. You were reluctant to watch (of course) but he was excited to have a scary movie night on a rainy day, so you obliged.

"You know, babe, we don't have to watch this," he said from the couch, watching you pop the DVD into the player.

"No, you bought it," you said. "I don't want you to waste your money."

"I know you hate them, ___," he said, sighing. "If you don't want to watch it, I'll just watch it with some friends." He paused at your frown. "Of course I'd prefer to watch it with you, but-"

"I can handle it," you said, glancing at the cover of the movie. It looked incredibly bloody. "It... doesn't look that bad." It did. It really did look that bad. "Let's watch it."

"You're sure?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh," you said. You hit play and walked back to the couch.

Flash opened one arm and you leaned against him, your shoulder pressing up to his side, your head leaning into his neck. He pulled that arm tight around you and grabbed your hand with his other hand.

"You gonna leave the hall light on?" he asked as the movie started.

"I don't want to be scared if I have to get up and use the bathroom," you admitted.

He laughed, his head turning so that his lips moved against your forehead. You giggled and blushed, biting your lip awkwardly. He squeezed your arm.

"Okay, babe. We'll leave the light on then."

You were glad you did leave the light on, because the movie was scarier than you thought it was going to be. With every loud noise came a scene filled with so much gore that you often jumped.

"You okay?" Flash asked, stiffening. His arm was frigid around you, trying you keep you from jumping too high and smacking the top of your head against his chin.

You whimpered slightly in response, cowering away from the TV as a weapon drenched it blood sank into the flesh of another victim. The sounds turned your stomach.

"S'okay," Flash said quickly, letting go of your hand to hook his hand under your knees. He lifted your legs up and draped them across his lap, giving you access to turn against him and hide your terrified face. He sighed. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't know it would be this gross."

"Just tell me when it's over," you pleaded.

"The scene or the movie?" he joked.

You didn't laugh. You thought it was clear that you meant the movie.

The music in the movie reached a loud, screeching point as the killer claimed another victim. With the music came sounds of screams and blood splattering, and you were feeling more and more tense as it carried on.

And then, with loud, cracking, BOOM!, the hall light shut off and the TV screen went black, and, with a flash of white from the closed curtains, you and Flash were left in the pure darkness, the sound of thunder fading away.

You gasped and lifted your head, the air quickly becoming hot and stiff. You gulped and looked around. It was late into the night and too cloudy for moonlight or starlight. You were literally in the darkest black you had ever seen.

"Flash," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck, clinging to the back of his shirt.

"Looks like the powers out," he sighed. "Where do you keep candles?"

"U-Um, there are matches in the bathroom," you said, hands shaking just as much as your voice. "And our emergency tealight candles are under the s-sink."

"Okay," he said. He grabbed his phone off the coffee table and switched on the flashlight. Peeling your arms off of him, he slid off the couch and started to stand up.

"What are you doing?" you asked, voice rising with fear. You latched onto one of his wrists.

"I'm going to get the matches and candles," he said, turning the flashlight to you.

You cringed against the bright blue light. "You're not leaving me here."

"___," he said, snorting, "I'll be right back-"

"You're not leaving me here, Eugene! You made me watch that stupid scary movie!" you nearly yelled.

"Okay," he said quickly. "Okay. I won't leave you, babe. Here. Take my hand and walk with me. I'm sorry." He helped you up and turned the flashlight away. "I'm sorry."

You kept your eyes trained on the floor, too scared of looking around and catching shadows that lurked in corners. You really didn't want to be killed by a serial killer.

"I really don't want to be killed by a serial killer," you said, hugging Flash's arm against you.

"You're not going to be," he assured you. "We're here alone. Besides, if there was a serial killer, I'd fight for you."

"Yeah?" you asked, smiling a little.

"Mhm. Definitely. That serial killer wouldn't even get to look at you before I'd have him knocked out on the floor. No one threatens my girlfriend's life." He squeezed your hand. "I'm getting mad at this pretend serial killer just thinking about it."

You laughed. "That's so sweet, babe."

"Yeah? I mean, I'm no Spider-Man, but I think I could handle a-"

Another strike of lightning lit up the house, a boom of thunder quickly following. Flash jumped and gasped.

You snickered. "You can handle a serial killer but not a thunderstorm?" you asked. "How do you expect to protect me?"

"Shut up," he grumbled, ducking his head. "It's impossible to fight a thunderstorm anyway. I'll fight a serial killer for you, babe."

You reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "That's more than good enough for me," you assured him. "I don't even expect that much out of you, but I appreciate it a lot." You kissed him on the cheek again.

He turned around, hand leaving yours and grabbing your waist. You felt his lips clumsily press against the corner of your mouth as he tried to find their way to your lips. When they met, you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his stomach and pulling him to you. He sat his phone down and cupped your cheek with his other hand.

The thunderstorm faded away in the background when he kissed you. Neither of you budged; there wasn't much of a need to find candles when you were distracted.