Divergent Preferences/Headcanons/Imagines/Etc

Don't Die On Me (Peter Hayes Imagine)

 You felt the bullet rip through your chest before you even heard the gunshot. Immediately, you flew to the ground, landing with a thump and a pained scream that didn't sound anything like you. The ground was hard but cool against your cheek.

"(Y/N)!" You hear Peter yell. He sounds so far but feels so close.

"Peter?" You manage to cough out. You touch your fingers to the salty substance against your mouth and when you draw back, your hand is covered with your thick, crimson blood.

"Get up!" Peter stands above you and he's screaming. His voice is a pitch higher than it usually is. He's hysterical. "Get up, (Y/N)! GET UP!"

You feel a sharp pain inside you, like a flock of birds is in your ribcage, trying to peck its way out of your cage-body. Peter grabs you under your arms and lifts you, trying to set you back on your feet. However, you can't even feel below your waist so his attempts are futile. It frustrates him.

"Come on! Work with me!"

Is he angry? He sounds angry.

"Are you mad at me?" You whisper, still vertical in his arms. "Please don't be mad at me."

Peter slips down to his knees, sinking to the ground and bringing you with him. You slump against him, your head leaning against his stomach with your legs sprawled out on the ground in front of you. Things get brighter by the moment and duller by the second as you lose track of the outlines of your surroundings. It won't be long now.

"Don't you dare die on me!" Peter screams and shakes you back and forth, making you scream out in hysterical pain. "Don't you dare!"

He's never been gentle with you and you don't expect him to be in these last few moments. But when he realizes that this is how it's going to end, his fingertips brush against your forehead and he wipes the sweat and blood from your face. His strong arms envelop you in his embrace, protecting you from everything as you make the transition from this world to the next.

"I love you, Peter." You say, finding the strength to hold his face in the palm of your hand, touching the smooth skin of his face.

"I know." Peter says. "I love you, too, (Y/N)."

You close your eyes and let the pain in your chest overtake you, the flock of birds finally pecking themselves free and bursting from your body as everything becomes faint. The last thing you hear is Peter's voice.

"I'm not mad. I promise."