𝒚𝒂𝒓𝒂

and this is how it starts

[meetmeinverona]

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒆,

⟡ 𝑦𝑎𝑟𝑎. 19. she/her.

rules & disclaimers | masterlist (to come soon)

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍.

[meetmeinverona]

woke up this morning to see peter parker wearing juicy couture and will somehow come up with a way to mention this in the fic THANK YOU LORD

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU ~ VIII

IN WHICH you’re barely scraping by as a barista on minimum wage and Peter’s tired of seeing his favorite girl work herself to exhaustion.

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: NON-CON, dark!peter parker, stalking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, babytrapping.

series masterlist

It’s late again when Peter’s storming back into the apartment, slamming the door behind him shut, clearly stressed out. You peek your head up from your spot on the couch, eyes following him. He doesn’t even greet you like he normally does. He just goes straight to his room, shutting the door behind him. 

You tell yourself you don’t care about what’s got him this upset. You repeatedly try to convince yourself that his feelings don’t matter to you one bit. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tiny bit curious.

After your fight with him about going into the one room he told you not to go into, you’ve been so much more on edge around him. You don’t really talk back or plead with him to let you go anymore, much to his satisfaction. But you can tell the slightest part of him felt bad for yelling at you and grabbing you the way he did. He’s doted on you even more than usual lately. 

It started by bringing home flowers after late night patrols, to watching movies with you in the living room to keep you company— it only makes you more angry with him. He’d be so perfect if he wasn’t insane. How dare he make you feel anything for him?

So when he didn’t greet you after coming home, and when he just so happened to not lock the front door like he always does with such precision, you were on alert from his carelessness. You could just bolt out that door right now. He’s in his room and he’s clearly got his mind on other things to have realized the door isn’t locked. You’d finally get your life back.

But when your feet hit the floor, you find yourself making your way towards his room and gently knocking on the door.

“Peter? Can I come in?” You ask quietly. There’s a pause of silence on the other end before you hear his rough voice tell you to come in. You hesitantly push the door open before lingering in the doorway, twiddling with your hands behind your back in a slightly awkward motion.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to set him off. “You seemed upset when you came in and– and you didn’t say hi like you normally do, so I just wanted to check on you.”

Peter’s face softens as he looks up at you and he gestures for you to come sit by him on the bed. You keep your head down as you make your way towards him, taking a seat next to him. He’s gently pulling you into his lap, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry for coming in the way I did, angel. Just had a really bad patrol.” He breathes out against your neck. The feeling of his lips against your skin makes your breath hitch but you nod as you hesitantly wrap your arms around him, hands making their way into his hair. 

“I’m sorry,” You sympathize softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head gently, breathing in your skin against him. “Just the usual, some bastard making my life miserable, I have to look out for the city, and I still have assignments due at the end of the week.”

“I could help with your assignments?” You offer quietly. You can only imagine the load of assignments you have missed since Peter’s held you hostage here. Though, those missing assignments are definitely the least of your worries right now. Maybe if you were lucky all those assignments would go excused. Getting kidnapped and held hostage seemed like a good enough excuse to get an exemption. 

He shakes his head. “I could never ask you to do that.” 

“I offered. It’s not like I have anything else to do.” You argue quietly.

He raises an eyebrow with a grin. “If you’re any good at physics, be my guest.” 

You grin sheepishly. “I could learn.”

“You’re cute.” Peter hums as he sinks himself down, pressing your back against the bed and burying his head against your side. He wraps his arms tightly around your waist and exhales a long breath. You run your hands through his hair softly, massaging his scalp in an attempt to comfort him. 

“What? You don’t think I’m smart enough for it?” You joke quietly. 

He’s quick to shake his head, pressing a small kiss to your shoulder. “It’s not that, I know you’re smart. I’ve seen you in your classes. I just wouldn’t ask that of you.” You laugh softly, tracing your fingers through his locks, working your hands into massaging his head. He lets out a soft groan of relief as you do. He doesn’t deserve this from you but it’s all he’s ever wanted and he’s going to savor it. The feeling of your hands gently running through his hair in an attempt to soothe him is almost enough to make him forget about his dilemmas. 

“Feeling better?” You murmur softly, one hand soothingly rubbing his back, the other running through his hair.

“So much better,” Peter whispers. “Thank you, angel.”

You hum affirmatively. “Maybe you should take a shower, it might make you feel better.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Mostly because he just doesn’t want to let you go. God, you feel so perfect here in his arms like this. It feels like he’s finally whole again and he’s found what he’s been missing for so long. You’re finally letting him in again, and he wants to bask in it for as long as possible. But a shower probably would help clear his head right now.

“You’re probably right,” He mumbles, reluctantly letting go of your waist and pulling his head back from where it was resting against your chest. “I just don’t want this moment to end.”

“I’ll be here when you get out.” You reassure him softly, cradling his jaw to tilt his head to look up at you. Peter nods quietly, slight frown on his lips as your hand falls back to your sides. He takes that as his sign to get up and get in the shower.

As he swings his legs off the bed and grabs a clean pair of pajama pants and a towel, he turns back to you with a small, hopeful grin. “Maybe we could watch a movie when I’m done?”

You nod at him with a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. Definitely.”

That confirmation seems to be all he needs before he disappears into the bathroom, giving you one last nod before he shuts the door behind him. The second you hear that bathroom door lock on his end, you feel your chest tighten once it’s just you alone in his room. Your mind wanders back off to that unlocked door. Had he really not noticed? You could just slip out right now and take your life and freedom back. 

Peter’s taken so much from you. Your freedom, your dignity, your autonomy. He’s the last person you should feel sorry for.

And still, you can’t help but feel guilty for even wanting to leave him. If you left now, he’d be all alone. That thought makes your chest tighten. Things have almost been normal between the two of you. These last few weeks have almost been a glimpse of what life could be like. It’d be peaceful and content, and he’s already shown he’d treat you so good— so long as you don’t piss him off.

And that’s all the confirmation you need to realize that you need to leave now. Just the idea that you were finally becoming content with this cage he’s trapped you in was terrifying. The thought of settling for this life and abandoning yourself and your aspirations for his own pleasure makes you sick. And why should you care about if he’d be all alone after you leave? Did he care about all the times you cried and pleaded for your life back? He didn’t seem to care about you when he threatened to go to the public as Spiderman and announce you dead. So, you don’t care what happens to him.

At least that's what you’re convincing yourself.

With one last trailing look towards the bathroom door, listening to the soft sound of water running, you’re silently moving. You don’t really bother to grab anything on the way out, it’s not like you came to Peter’s apartment with much anyway. Besides, you're focused on getting out as quickly as possible. Once you’re out of his room and at the front door, you feel your stomach churn. Your breath hitches as you reach for the handle but you don’t waste another second.

The second the handle turns and the door opens, it almost doesn’t feel real. As if this is all some sick dream and Peter’s going to pull you out of it at any minute. You didn’t think you’d see beyond his apartment walls again.

But this isn’t a dream and you’re not taking any time to dwell on it, urgently heading out the apartment and slamming the door shut behind you. You practically sprint down the hallway for the stairs, flying down all three flights before you make it to the lobby. You notice there's nobody in the lobby as you tear the front door open and scamper outside.

God, you forgot the feeling of the cold hair hitting your face and your hair flowing through the wind. But you don’t take any time to think about that— Peter would soon enough get out of the shower and notice you missing, and you don’t wanna be anywhere in the vicinity when that happens.

You quickly look around, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar area before deciding that going quite literally anywhere that wasn’t here would be safe. It’s a fairly isolated area, which is shocking for the city but you quickly walk through an alleyway behind the apartment— hoping it would lead you somewhere safe and useful. Preferably somewhere with people so in the off chance Peter found you, he wouldn’t try anything stupid. 

As you walk down that dark alleyway, you find yourself periodically looking over your shoulder. Your stomach coils at the thought of him finding you. Of him dragging you back to that prison that's his apartment. You haven’t seen the outside world in almost two months, he can’t just expect you to go back into captivity. 

But there’s no use in thinking about that, it’s only going to freak you out further. You wrap your arms around yourself for warmth and keep moving forward. Instead of dwelling on Peter, you allow yourself to imagine how normalcy will return soon. You’ll be back in your dorm, you’ll reunite with your roommate, and you’ll be back to classes and work. Not the most glamorous life to return back to but better than the hell that's been your life with him.

You're wandering the streets of the city like a stray puppy dog, looking around for anyone or anything that could help you right now. You’ve drifted off a good amount of distance to have noticed a bodega in the far distance, followed by a plethora of other corner shops and stores. 

A small sigh of relief escapes your lips as you pick up your pace, all you had to do was make it into any of these stores, go inside and ask for help. You could call the police, tell them that Spiderman is a fraud and then you would be free.

In the midst of your thoughts, you see a flash of red from above you followed by a deep and quiet call of your name, stopping you cold in your tracks.

No, no, no.

You hesitantly look up to see that familiar mask staring down at you from a stairwell. He’s quick to drop down, effectively blocking your path from making it to the bodega. You quickly take a step back only pushing him to take a step further towards you.

“So, I guess you really didn’t wanna watch that movie then, huh?” He asks, voice threateningly low. Your lips tremble at the sight of him, you don’t even need to see the expression under his mask to know he’s pissed. 

“I work all fucking day, I protect this city, I protect you, and this is how you repay me?” He asks in a dangerously quiet tone, voice slightly cracking as he takes another step towards you. “We were doing so fucking good, why’d you have to ruin it?”

“How’d you find me so fast?” You whisper, a tight lump forming in your throat.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He laughs in disbelief, like he can’t believe that you would have the nerve to question him right now.

You don’t even take a second before whipping your body around and running like your life depends on it, which it honestly kind of does. He’s screaming your name, sending a vibration through your body as you pick up your pace. You don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, but the thought of him catching you is enough to make you ignore the pain in your legs. 

He’s going to kill me, oh my god, he’s going to kill me, you think to yourself as you sprint down the alleyway, making any sort of turn you can to throw him off. Nevermind the fact that he’s got superhuman senses or the fact that you can feel your legs aching as you run from him. No, you keep running with every bit of strength you can find. You’ve only just started hoping again, he couldn’t possibly take this from you now.

But he can and he will.

Because in mere seconds he’s grabbing you by the waist, throwing a strong hand over your mouth so you can’t even scream for help. You try anyway, the sound muffled and weak.

“We’re going home.” He breathes out roughly, holding you with a deathly tight grip as he picks you up bridal style. Home. You feel a hot wave of tears prick your eyes as he refers to your jail cell as home. You repeatedly smack and push at him, flailing your legs in an attempt to get away. He doesn’t flinch and it only makes you sob harder, the sounds muffled by his hand still over your mouth. Your vision spins and his death grip over your mouth— effectively cutting off your oxygen makes it increasingly harder to fight back.

And that’s the last thing on your mind before everything goes to black.

~

When you eventually regain consciousness, the first thing you take note of is how dry your mouth feels. Followed by an ache all over your body. In a daze, you look at your surroundings, stomach coiling at the devastatingly familiar sight of Peter’s bedroom. 

In a panic, you quickly try to move and get off his bed— except your arms don’t budge. You thrash some more before you shakily tilt your head up to see your wrists bound to the bedpost by a web-like substance.

“You’re finally awake.”

The sound of Peter’s voice, rough and low, startles you. You whip your head towards the direction of his voice to see him leaning against the doorway. He’s out of his Spiderman suit and changed back into a plain black shirt with some sweats.

You really can’t read his expression either. His face is completely flat. Was he mad? Dumb question. Of course, he’s mad. The two of you shared a vulnerable moment right before you tried to make your escape. He was just beginning to trust you.

Your lips part to say something but nothing comes out. Partly because your mouth is so dry and partly because what can you say? No excuse or defense that leaves your mouth would salvage this. He’s moving towards the bed silently— the action making you tense up, before he grabs a cup of water that he left on the bed stand.

“Drink.” He orders quietly, bringing the glass to your lips. You don’t at first. What if he was so mad he poisoned the water or something?

“Or die of thirst. Whatever you want.” He mutters, pushing the glass closer to your lips. In defeat, you shakily bring your head closer to the glass, gently attaching your lips to the edge. Peter’s keeping a gentle but firm hand on the back of your for support as he slowly tilts the glass for you to drink more. It’d be oddly domestic if you weren’t bound to the bed with a lingering fear about what he was gonna do next. Why was he acting so calm? 

“Peter,” you rasp out quietly once the water is finished and he sets the glass back down.

“Shh, don’t talk.” He murmurs, running a soft hand through your hair. “Your throat needs rest right now.” Your lips tremble at his tender affection, the same way prey stills beneath the attention of its captor. You don’t trust it. How could you when he’s got you bound to the bed?

“I just don’t get it.” He sighs. “We’ve been doing so well and the second you had a chance to run, you took it. Why? Do I mean nothing to you?” His voice gets increasingly louder and bitter, the change in tone creating a tightness in your chest.

“No—”

“Don’t talk.” He snaps, his grip in your hair turning tighter and making you whimper. “I’ve been providing for you, protecting you, loving you—” his voice cracks slightly. Like the thought of you not sharing the same affection he has for you genuinely devastates him. “And apparently that meant nothing.”

His hand travels from your hair down to your collarbones, gently wrapping around your throat. “I should be mad. I really should be.” He whispers, bringing his face dangerously close to yours, his lips brushing against your own. “But I love you too much for that.” He says it like you should be grateful he loves you enough not to hurt you.

“You’re still learning and I get that. I forgive you.” He murmurs, pressing a soft quick peck to the corner of your mouth. “Maybe I need to give you a reason to never consider it again.” Your brows furrow from confusion, at a loss for what he’s implying by that. 

His hands keep trailing down, making their way from your neck down to your shorts. Alarms are going off in your head and a wave of panic courses through you. His finger dances around the waist band of your shorts, giving it a slight tug. You slightly thrash your legs, as if trying to throw him but he holds your legs down with a grip tight enough to leave bruises. 

“No, no, no. Peter, please, I’m sorry—” Your voice is hoarse and shaky, on top of the hot tears welling up in your eyes and blurring your vision.

“I told you to be quiet.” He snarls before tugging your shorts off in one go. “You lost any privilege at begging when you ran.” You bite your lip to muffle the sobs you feel about to come out. The rush of air between your legs feels like a sick telling of what's about to come. He doesn’t bother to wipe away your tears or soothe you like he would’ve in the past.

“I was gonna wait until we were further down the line. I really was,” he says quietly as he gently pulls off your panties, flinging them across the room. “But you clearly can’t be trusted.”

“Or maybe you felt lonely?” He asks patronizingly quiet, brown eyes boring into yours as he positions himself between your legs, roughly pulling them apart. He’s pulling off his sweats followed by his boxers, carefully aligning the tip of his cock with your entrance. “I know it gets lonely when I’m away all day, angel. Don’t worry, I’ll give you good company.”

He’s thrusting into you with one smooth stroke, moaning like a man gone hungry at the feeling of being in your again after so long. A sharp cry escapes your lips at the intrusion, but he doesn’t care to comfort you. Not like he once did. 

“Peter—” You gasp, tears prickling from the corner of your eyes.

“I mean, what were you even thinking?” He laughs quietly, grabbing one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder as he starts thrusting into you. “You really thought you were gonna get away from me? I’ll always find you, baby.”

He’s like a man possessed as he fucks you into the bed. His hips slam into yours, with his movements growing less controlled and increasingly sloppy. He’s got one hand gripping your thigh as he keeps it over his shoulder, better positioning himself to slam into your throbbing heat. The other hand keeps a harsh grip on your waist, holding you down and making it harder for you to thrash around.

“I hate to do this,” He groans as he rhythmically thrusts into you. He hates seeing you cry, hates hurting you like this, but what choice did you give him? “But I just can’t have you leaving me, angel.”

Peter’s ravenous as he fucks into you, eventually leaning down to slam his lips into yours. It’s devoid of all his usual tenderness, his teeth clashing against yours. The position he’s got you in allows you to feel every single inch of him, your body going limp from his rough pace. Your wrists are sore from still being bound and the fact that every time he pulls back and buries his cock into you once more, your whole body slams forward.

“I especially can’t have you leaving me once I make you a mommy, right?” He asks quietly. 

You feel your whole body go cold at that revelation. No, no, no. He couldn’t do that to you. You couldn’t have a baby. Especially not with him. He couldn’t possibly mean that. No, he has to just be threatening you to keep you here. He wouldn’t.

Peter quickly catches onto your panic, a sickening grin spreading across his lips. He’s slamming his cock at a punishing pace even harder, your cunt tightening at his intrusion. You can feel his cock throbbing within you. He’s moaning like he’s been starving for this. The two of you hadn’t had sex since he brought you here. He’d been pretty adamant about respecting your boundaries. So much for that. 

“You’re so wet for me,” He mumbles, practically bending you in half. “You want a baby just as badly as I do?”

“No.” You sob out, shaking your head furiously as you desperately try to kick your legs at him. It’s no use though, he’s grasping onto both of them now, holding your legs over his shoulders as he angles himself deeper into you, practically folding you in half. Your cheeks are stained with tears and your voice is hoarse from sobbing and screaming.

“That’s okay,” He reassures softly. “Motherhood can be scary. You’ll grow into it.” 

You feel nauseous at his reassurance. You won’t grow into it. The last thing you want is to bring a baby into this fucked up situation and be forever tied down to him. 

“Peter, no,” You rasp out, pleading with him as a last resort. “I don’t want a baby.” Peter growls and slams back into you, making your legs shake and scream of pleasure and pain erupting from your lips. You can feel an orgasm creeping upon you but you're fighting back on it as much as you can, the action increasingly growing more difficult as he buries his cock deep inside of you.

“Thats a shame,” he says in a patronizingly quiet voice, a malicious grin forming on his lips. "Because I do.” And then he’s thrusting into you a final time, cock nestled deep in your pussy as he releases his orgasm.

A sharp cry escapes your lips as he fills you to a brim, and it’s honestly music to Peter’s ears. You hate yourself for not being able to hold back any longer, coming at the same time he does. All you can do is quietly sob as he holds onto you like your something delicate— like he wasn’t just fucking into you like an animal a moment ago.

“Don’t cry, angel.” He soothes quietly as he presses a bunch of soft kisses all over your face. The soft action makes your eyes droop— you’re utterly spent. He’s sloppily pulling out of your cunt to lie beside you, holding your body close and gently massaging your sides. “I’ll take care of you and the baby.”

“My perfect pretty angel.” He whispers before the exhaustion overtakes you. “You’re never gonna leave me again.”

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @theeillum1nator @pinkcoquettebow @nightmarenyxx @peterparkersgirlfriend1 @obsessedprincess @nommingonfood @lumineuxparker @kimbaedwi @petalsmoons @tbslseven @caity0 @sela-gypsy

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢

guys im so sorry for the late update, i honestly had really bad writing block but i locked tf in on writing the end of this so i hope you all enjoy! peter's sick, poor reader </3

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU ~ VII

IN WHICH you’re barely scraping by as a barista on minimum wage and Peter’s tired of seeing his favorite girl work herself to exhaustion.

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: DUB-CON, dark!peter parker, stalking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, babytrapping.

series masterlist

It’s been a week since you’ve been at Peter’s place. He hasn’t touched you since that day. 

“I won’t touch you or do anything you don’t want unless you ask me to.” He told you on day three. Like that was somehow supposed to make you feel better about the situation.

You’ve barely spoken a word to him; there’s nothing to say, really. And the few times you do, it’s too scream and plead with him to let you go. You tried to bargain every way possible. You told him if he’d just let you go, you wouldn’t tell anyone, you wouldn’t go to the police, and you would just move on like nothing happened.

He’d usually just listen with a solemn expression, arms crossed, and shaking his head. You’re not sure how he could just listen to you cry and beg and not feel the slightest twinge of guilt over what he was doing. A weirdly sympathetic expression would overtake his face, like he wasn’t the reason you were slowly losing your sanity.

 Or he’d get mad.

And that really scared you. It was so different from the calm and easygoing Peter he had led you to believe he was. He wouldn’t get violent—he’d kept his promise to not touch you unless you asked him to, but he’d get downright mean. 

“You wanna leave and just forget about me, is that it?” He’d snap. “Find some other guy to move on to, after everything I’ve done for you?”

You felt like screaming every time he’d imply himself to be some sort of knight in shining armor that saved you from your ‘oh so miserable life.’ Sure, living wasn’t easy when you were supporting yourself through college, but you liked how things were. 

Okay, you didn’t necessarily like it, but you were fine with it. 

Being trapped in his apartment, even if it had only been a week, made you miss the things you didn’t even think you’d grieve. You missed your job, missed your annoying boss, missed your classes, your dorm, hell— you even missed your roommate.

You wonder if she’s looking for you now. She has to be. As irresponsible and flippant as she was, she definitely had to be worried sick for you. Hopefully your university sent out an alert that you were missing. You cling to that hope desperately; it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

In the current moment, Peter’s left you alone in the apartment, murmuring a soft goodbye and telling you he had a patrol to run. It's a common routine; the night hits, and he has to leave for his nightly patrols, leaving you alone. 

You’re never really sure how to feel about being alone. It’s nice to be away from Peter and the constant reminder of his betrayal. He hasn’t been entirely awful since you’ve been here. If anything, he’s been more doting, but that's obviously just to soften the damage of what he’s done to you. He doesn’t touch you without asking, usually speaks to you so softly with such care, and tends to your every need. He takes care of you.

You hate that even the smallest part of you misses him when he’s gone this late. You hate that you’re torn between wishing he’d never come back and wanting him home safe. You hate him for putting you in this position.

You’re sitting alone on the couch, knees to your chest, when you figure it wouldn’t hurt to look around the apartment and get to know the place a bit better. He couldn’t just expect to keep you here and not have you look around. You’ve been sleeping in his bedroom while he’s slept on the couch to make you comfortable. Nevermind the fact that you’d be more comfortable in your own bed, in your own room.

In an almost hesitant motion, you throw your legs off the couch, hoisting yourself up to walk around the apartment. It was nice for what it was. Sure, it was small, but then again, Peter was a broke college student just like you; it’s not like you were expecting him to live in a penthouse or anything. He keeps his space relatively neat and clean, but you can’t tell if that’s just a habit he picked up to make it easier for you to adjust here.

It’s almost eerie, wandering around the apartment when he’s not here, like at any moment he’s going to come around the corner and punish you for snooping around. Whatever, it’s only 10 o’clock; he doesn’t usually come back till after midnight. 

You’ve tried to search around the apartment before, and Peter was usually okay with it—but he was oddly firm that you stay out of the room towards the end of the hallway. He usually kept that locked. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about what he was keeping away in there.

The moment you reach the door of the seemingly forbidden room, you attempt to twist the doorknob and open it. Except it doesn’t budge. You figured he’d lock it before leaving you alone in the apartment. Whatever, you’re bored, and it’s not like he’s here to stop you from figuring out a way to unlock it. 

You head back to the kitchen, looking for anything you could possibly unlock the door with before your eyes land on a pack of toothpicks. You’re quick to grab one before heading back to the room, fiddling with the pick before precisely poking it through the hole of the doorknob, prodding it around before you push down and twist the doorknob.

If only unlocking the front door were that easy.

Once the door was unlocked, you hesitantly pushed through. Honestly, you don’t know what you were expecting. Maybe Peter was genuinely some kind of freak and this was some sort of secret sex dungeon.

But it isn’t. 

You step inside and look around to see a normal room covered in photographs. Your eyes land on a camera sitting at the edge of a desk. You do remember Peter briefly mentioning he liked photography. You just didn’t know he liked it this much.

As you look around, you see photos of various people. Photos of Peter in high school with two people you recognized. MJ and Ned. You didn’t know Peter was friends with them in high school. To be fair, you sort of stopped talking to those two after graduation, and you all went your separate ways. You find another photo of a middle-aged woman with long, brown hair and glasses fixing Peter’s bowtie. Was that his mom? Whoever she was, Peter seemed really close to her. A photo that catches your eye is a picture of Peter with fucking Tony Stark. You had no idea that Peter was an intern at Stark Industries. That seemed like the kind of thing worth mentioning. The Peter in these photos seems so different from the Peter you’ve been living with. This Peter seemed so happy and carefree, so unlike the man you know now.

You feel bad for a brief moment; he’d been pretty clear when he said he didn’t want you in here.

But then again, if he was going to keep you hostage here, you deserved to be able to go wherever you want throughout the apartment.

And honestly, you can’t help it. He’s not the guy he’s led you to believe he is, and you’re desperate to know him through any other way. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you open one of his drawers.

You’re not shocked to find more photographs in the drawer. It checks out.

You are shocked when you find a photograph of yourself, though.

Specifically, a photo of you at 15, back when you had god-awful acne and braces. Where the fuck did he get this photo from?

After that, it’s like your hands have a mind of their own, and you’re rapidly flipping through the stack of photographs.

A photo of 14-year-old you and Peter at a freshman-year robotics competition. A photo of 15-year-old you and Peter in what you assume is his old room. A photo of you at 16 with Peter on a school trip in Italy. A photo of you in your senior year prom dress.

You remember all these events, but Peter wasn’t at any of them. 

“What are you doing?”

The sudden low and rough voice startles you, causing you to jump and turn around, your hands still clutching at the stack of photographs. You turn around to see Peter standing there, still in his suit, his mask clenched up in his right hand.

“What are you doing back?” You ask quietly, lips trembling.

“Patrol was uneventful. Thought I’d come back early.” He replies through clenched teeth and narrow eyes. “I told you not to come in here.”

“What are these?” You ask quietly and accusingly, holding up the stack of photographs.

“They’re none of your fucking business.” He spits, storming and grabbing the stack from you.

“Well, considering I’m in almost all these photos, they are my business!” You snap back.

“You had no right to go through my stuff!” He lashes out at you, shoving the photographs back in the drawer.

“And you have no right to keep me locked up in here! I just wanted to look around!”

He doesn’t even reply to your comment; he just spins around, grabs you by the wrist with a damn near death grip, and practically drags you out the room before slamming the door behind him shut. 

“Let go of me!” You scream, snatching your arm back and stepping away from him.

Peter lets out a frustrated sigh, running his hands over his face before dragging them down to look at you with a calmer—yet still pissed off—expression. 

“I’m sorry I grabbed you,” he starts quietly. “You just can’t go through my stuff like that.”

“You keep me locked up here all day, I just wanted to look around. Why do you have those photos of me—of us?” You ramble on in a panic, completely ignoring his sentiment.

He just stares at you, a cold, bitter expression on his face. “It doesn’t matter.” He mutters.

“It matters!” You shout. “I didn’t know you in high school.”

He doesn’t even respond, but he looks so hurt. He just silently walks past you to his room. And you’re quick to follow behind him. He’s taking off his suit to change into something more comfortable; you dart your head around like it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before.

“Peter, please, I just want answers—”

“You wouldn’t believe me.” He mutters as he strips out of the suit and pulls a random t-shirt over his head, followed by a pair of sweats.

“Well, you wouldn’t know unless you actually talked to me.” You plead, turning back around. 

“You did know me.” He says quietly, looking at you with vulnerable eyes. You hate how that look on his face tugs at your heartstrings, even just a little bit. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy. 

“You gonna elaborate on that?” You ask quietly, arms folded around your waist uncomfortably.

“I can’t,” he rasps out. “No matter how much I try to explain it to you, it won’t change anything.”

What does that even mean? You want to beg him to just try and explain it anyway, but you get the sense that trying that is a lost cause.

“Were we friends?” You ask quietly, feeling that the answer is probably obvious just based on those photos.

“Yeah, we were.”

“I don’t remember any of it.” 

“Of course you don’t.” He whispers bitterly before softly adding, “It’s not your fault. I promised I was going to come back for you no matter what.”

“And that meant keeping me hostage here?” 

Something in his gaze changes. It goes from soft to sullen within seconds. “It’s not keeping you hostage, it’s keeping you safe.”

“Safe from what?” You feel your voice rising. You’re not some child that needs to be coddled or protected. You could damn well take care of yourself.

He clenches his jaw and speaks to you through gritted teeth. “You hated your life. No amount of trying to convince me or yourself changes that. You were miserable, you were working some stupid dead-end job while struggling to pay for school and just live.”

“And what? You think you’re my knight in shining armor or something?” You spit, your tone full of resentment.

“No, angel. I don’t think I’m your knight in shining armor,” he breathes out. “I just love you and don’t want you to struggle.” 

Your lip trembles when he professes his love for you. He can’t just throw something like that out there. Not when you’ve been craving love and safety for so long. But you didn’t want it like this. You didn’t want it at the cost of your autonomy.

“I hope you don’t expect me to say it back.” You whisper. 

His breath hitches and he shakes his head. “No, I don’t. Not yet at least. I just need you to let me take care of you.”

Your lip trembles, and you shake your head as you move to sit down on the bed, not trusting your legs to keep you upright.

“I just want to go back to how my life was.” You whisper in a pleading voice, looking up at him with glossy eyes. “Please, Peter. Just let me go back.”

He gets down on his knees in front of you, gentle hands coming to cradle the sides of your arms in a soothing manner. “I can’t, angel. I need you here with me.”

“People are definitely looking for me. You’ll get found out eventually.” You mumble as he runs his hands up and down your sides in a comforting manner.

“Yeah. They have been. The university sent out a missing persons report, and your god-awful roommate cried on the news for you. You know who else is looking for you? Spiderman. And when he happens to find your dead body, everyone will quit looking.” He whispers in a sickeningly sweet and patronizing tone. 

Your blood runs cold. You want to tell yourself he wouldn’t play god like that and just wipe your existence off the earth. But judging by that small grin on his lips, you know he’s not messing around.

“They’ll all eventually give up on you.” He murmurs, his grip on your arms tightening slightly. “But I’ll never give up on you, angel. That’s why I need you here. Understand?”

You don’t respond, just turn your head away so he doesn’t see your lips quiver and your eyes water. You don’t want him to see you fall apart like this.

Peter doesn’t seem to accept that, though. He gently grabs your chin and turns your head back to face him with a soft expression.

“Do you understand?” He asks once more, taking his other hand to wipe your tears.

“I understand Peter.” 

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @theeillum1nator @pinkcoquettebow @nightmarenyxx @peterparkersgirlfriend1 @obsessedprincess @nommingonfood @lumineuxparker @kimbaedwi

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢

Once again, I'm sososo sorry for the crazy late update, college is actually so insufferable omfg. But the Brand New Day trailer came out and it actually sparked some motivation in me to actually get back on this fic so hopefully you all enjoy it :)

[meetmeinverona]

Seeing Peter in the brand new day trailer actually just reignited me to finish writing rescue you I’m so sorry to the loyal readers to that fic dw I’m finishing it 😭🙏

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU ~ VI

IN WHICH you’re barely scraping by as a barista on minimum wage and Peter’s tired of seeing his favorite girl work herself to exhaustion.

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: DUB-CON, dark!peter parker, stalking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, babytrapping.

series masterlist

 You wake up in a daze, vision blurry, and head pounding. You manage to sit up in the unfamiliar bed you’re in, lazily looking around the foreign room in confusion. It takes a moment for you to register the events of last night before you figure out you’re in Peter’s room.

 When you look down at yourself, taking in the large t-shirt— which you can only assume is Peter’s— you’re wearing with absolutely nothing underneath. You turn your head, and the sight of your panties on the floor has all the memories of last night rushing in through the bits and pieces you did remember. An uneasiness washes over you as you think about it.

 Sure, yeah, Peter’s mouth all over you felt good but you hadn’t really wanted it at the moment. You were drunk and tired and all you wanted was to sleep. And you told him that. Well, at least you tried to, he’d been pretty persistent when he spread your legs open. 

 Your chest tightens uncomfortably at the thought. No, Peter’s not like that, he’s a nice guy. At least he has been for the most part. Maybe he was just caught up in the moment. Maybe it was just an error in communication. He'd been so sweet and patient with you last night, taking care of you in your drunken state and not once complaining about how you might’ve interrupted any of his plans. He showed up in the middle of the night to get you when your roommate had left alone, drunk and vulnerable. He wouldn’t take advantage of you like that. 

 Never mind that you were drunk and he shouldn’t have tried it anyway, no matter what you said.

 In your moment of trying to convince yourself of Peter’s innocence, it hits you that you don’t see or hear him anywhere. You furrow your eyebrows at the silence as you sluggishly throw your legs off the bed, grab your panties and quickly throw them back on before slowly heading out of Peter’s room.

“Peter?” You call out, standing in the hallway of the unfamiliar place. No answer. 

That’s fine, you’ll just call him on your phone. You go back to his room to grab your purse, rummaging through it for your phone before you realize it isn’t in your purse. You look around the room, eyes scanning every surface and there’s still no sight of it. That’s weird. You didn’t leave it at the party last night. You had called your roommate. Where the hell could you have put it?

“Peter?” You call out once more, unsure of why you thought he would answer. 

 You cautiously head out of the room again, heading towards the kitchen to look around for him. There’s fresh fruit, toast, and two cups of coffee on the table and you hear the faint sound of shower water running from the hallway.

 A small sigh escapes your lips. Of course, Peter’s a morning shower type of guy. He seems like he has his life together like that. You have work in two hours but you’ll wait for him to get out. Your eyes trail to the pleasing looking breakfast he left out. You could eat right now, this hangover was killing you. But you figure it’d be nice to wait for him to eat together and maybe then you’d tell him how you felt about last night.

~ 

 Peter steps out of the bathroom, shower steam flowing from the door and towel wrapped loosely around his waist as he scruffs a hand through his wet hair. 

 He’s quick to spot you quietly sitting at the kitchen table, food untouched, and a timid look gracing your face as if you’re unsure of what to do with yourself. A small frown forms on his lips as he steps into the kitchen, approaching your side.

 “You’re not hungry, angel?” He asks quietly, a soft hand rubbing your back. 

 “Uh, I thought I’d wait for you.” You answer softly, shrugging slightly.

 He nods, hand trailing up your shoulder to play with your hair lightly, mumbling quietly: “So sweet.” It makes him want to take care of you all the more. That’s exactly what he planned to do anyway.

 “Peter… Can we talk?” You ask quietly, clearly a bit troubled.

 His brows furrow in a perturbed manner. Your tone, your demeanor, just the way you were acting all around gave him the idea that this wasn’t exactly a happy conversation. And he can only assume it was about last night. He doesn’t exactly feel like having this conversation with you anyway.

 “Of course we can,” He replies with fake sincerity. “Can I at least put some clothes on?” He awkwardly jokes, hand gesturing to the towel slacked around his waist.

 The way you slightly gulp before nodding tensely isn’t lost on him. He nods tautly before turning his back to go grab some clothes from his room. Not before mumbling: “Eat something, will you?”

 The moment Peter is in his room, he shuts the door behind him, running a hand through his damp hair and slightly exhaling. He searches through his drawers before grabbing the first t-shirt and pair of sweats he can grab. He’s quick to drop the towel and change into his boxers before throwing on his clothes.

 He almost doesn’t want to go back out there. He knows he was wrong last night. The way you had quietly mumbled that you were tired as a way of indirectly saying you didn’t want to have sex. He had picked up on that entirely. And he knows he should’ve stopped at that, but he couldn’t help it. You were right there and you were so available. And somewhere, in his sick and vindicated mind, he still thinks he had that right to you— after everything he’s done for you, all the trouble he went through to get you. Whatever, he figures you’ll give him nothing more than a slap on the wrist anyway and tell him not to do it again.

 Honestly, it really doesn’t matter now what you say. He’s got you exactly where he wants you and you made it so much easier than expected. Peter knows it’s horrendously fucked up but he had a whole plan conjured up on how exactly he’d get you to come home with him and stay home with him. 

 Then you called him, drunk out of your mind, begging for his help. Then, you forgot your key and your roommate was out of reach. And then you accepted his offer to stay at his place “for the night.” You made it so easy.

“Peter?” Your voice quietly calls out, snapping him out of thought. He curses under his breath before heading back out of his room and to the kitchen.

 “I’m here.” He mumbles as he tensely takes a seat next to you.

 “I, uh, just want to let you know I’m not mad at you or anything.” You mumble quietly. “But last night— I didn’t hate it, it felt good and whatever and I’m so grateful you came to help me last night—”

 He tunes you out through the midst of your rambling. It’s cute honestly, but he already figured out what you were gonna say. And he already figured what he’d respond with. At least you said he made you feel again, so there was a small victory.

“—I hadn’t really wanted it in the moment and I tried to tell you that by saying I was tired but maybe it was just an error in communication and maybe you didn’t pick up on that which i get but,” You pause for a moment before quietly mumbling:  “Please don’t do that again.”

 He’d be lying if he said your quiet plea didn’t strain his heart a bit. He wasn’t a monster, of course he felt shitty for upsetting you, even if you weren’t mad.

“Oh god, angel,” he utters with feigned distraught. “I didn’t realize at all. Jesus, I’m sorry. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.”

 It almost scares him how good he is at pretending like he feels any real remorse. It’s hard when he knows you’re not leaving him anytime soon. Maybe he feels a bit of remorse over the toll it clearly had on you, but that's about it.

 “It’s okay.” You shake your head quietly with a small, uneasy smile. “At least you know now.”

  A tense silence falls over the two of you before Peter slightly pushes the plate full of food towards you.  “Eat,” he murmurs with care. “You need food in your system after last night.”

  You quietly pick up a piece of toast, taking a bite before giving him a small smile. “Thank you for making breakfast.”

  He shakes his head with a relaxed expression. “Don’t need to thank me, just wanna make sure you’re not running on empty.”

  You nod stilly, taking a few more bites before your eyes perk up as you remember your phone was still missing.

 “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have seen my phone anywhere, have you?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

  A look of confusion forms on his face as he shakes his head. “Didn’t you have it last night?”

 “I swore I did! I can’t find it anywhere now!” You groan, leaning back in your chair, earning a quiet chuckle from Peter.

 He almost feels bad, seeing you as frustrated as you are. Of course he knows where your phone is. It’s hidden away in a safe, somewhere where you can never find it. He can’t risk you calling anyone to get out of here, now can he?

 “We’ll help you find it later, angel. Just finish your breakfast.”

 “I don’t have until later though.” You inform him. “I have work soon and I really need it.”

 You don’t miss the look of annoyance that forms on his face. “Can’t you call out sick or something? You’re still hungover.”

 “I might’ve used up all my sick days already.” You mumble in embarrassment. “If I miss another shift, I’ll get fired.”

 He quirks up an eyebrow before shrugging and muttering:  “You don’t need that job anyway.”

 “Huh? Peter what are you talking about, I quite literally do, I have to pay for my dorm and classes—”

 “You could always just let me take care of you.” He cuts you off, expression blank, like his words aren’t genuinely absurd. 

 “What?” You laugh out breathily in disbelief.

 “If you don’t wanna pay for a place to live, just live here with me.” He shrugs.

 Now it was your turn to quirk a brow. He can’t be serious. As much as you like him, you’ve only known him for a few weeks, the offer was out of the question and quite frankly, insane.

 “As nice as that offer is, I can’t take advantage of you like that.” You breathe out awkwardly. “And even if I did live here, I still have to pay for classes.”

 “You don’t really need those classes either.” He mutters, taking a sip of his coffee, now cold. 

 “...What?” You repeat in disbelief.

 He doesn’t seem fazed by your shock whatsoever, in fact, he seems amused.

 “I told you, I could just take care of you. Make your life so much easier.” He shrugs.

 “So what? You want me to drop out of college for you?” You ask with defensiveness laced in your tone.

 “Not for me,” he murmurs. “For you. You work yourself to death in that little, rundown cafe, barely making ends meet and trying to pay for college. Wouldn’t it feel nice to have that burden off your shoulders?”

 “Of course it would, but that’s too good to be true. Besides, wouldn’t all my labor now pay off later?” You ask quietly.

 “Why labor at all when you have someone begging to take care of you and make your life easier?” He shoots back, staring you straight in the eye.

  His unwavering stance and the fact that he genuinely doesn’t see anything wrong with what he’s saying makes your chest tighten uncomfortably. You suddenly feel the need to be out of his apartment and go straight back to your dorm.

 “I— I think I’m gonna go now.” You mumble, shifting your chair away from the table and standing up from your seat.

 “You’re not going anywhere.” He hums, not even looking at you as he takes another sip of coffee.

 You knit your brows in confusion. Was he serious right now?

 “I’m going to work,” you reiterate. “I’ll find my phone later.”

 Before you can even make it past the kitchen table, he’s up from his seat in one swift motion and grabbing your wrist. His grip is tight and unwavering, not enough to hurt you but enough to send fear shooting through your entire body.

 “Peter, let go.“ You breathe out, tugging on your wrist.

 “You’re staying here.” He mutters, grip tightening around your wrist. “Where I can keep an eye on you.”

 “This isn’t funny, let go.” You plead quietly, lips trembling.

 “You’re right, it’s not funny. It’s not funny how you’re killing yourself at that job, your shitty friends who leave you alone when you’re drunk aren’t funny, and it’s especially not funny how you keep trying to distance yourself from me.” He jeers, pulling you against his chest.

 You’re quick to try and push away, hands lightly smacking at his chest in some attempt to throw him off. You feel your blood boil hearing him chuckle at your weak attempts to try and get away from him.

 “I hardly know you!” You cry. “You’ve known me for what? Three to four weeks? You’re not fucking keeping me here.”

 “You’ve known me for four weeks.” He utters under his breath. 

 “What the fuck does that mean?” You hiss, brows furrowed and lips trembling.

 “Nothing.” He breathes out, shaking his head before taking a softer approach with his tone. “I’m not trying to scare you, angel. Just want what’s best for you.”

“Well you are scaring me and you don’t know what’s best for me.” You snap, pushing at him a final time before finally managing to break free from his grasp. You’re quick to bolt for the front door, not even caring about the fact that you’re in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of panties. 

 He doesn’t chase after you. Which should’ve been the first sign of something being wrong. But you were too desperate to get the hell out of his apartment.

 The minute you reach the front door, you turn the knob in a quick, swift motion. A horrifying realization hits you when the door doesn’t budge. You pull the knob, shake it, trying everything you can to open it before finally slamming your hand against the door with a frustrated cry.

“It’s not gonna open.” You hear Peter say in a cruel, mocking tone. “Not without this.”

 You turn your head over your shoulder to see him dangling a pair of keys before shoving them in his pocket.

 “I told you, angel. You’re staying here. You might not understand or like it now, but you’ll learn to.” He murmurs, taking a few slow strides up to you then stopping as his chest makes contact with tours and running a hand through your hair.

 You’re quick to slap his hand away, glaring up at him with glossy eyes, tears threatening to spill. His use of endearing terms towards you only makes you sick to the stomach. “Don’t call me that. Open the door.”

 “Don’t cry,” He says softly, ignoring your demand to be let go. His hand creeping its way back up to the side of your face, cradling you like you’re something sacred. You hate just how comforting it is.“I’ll make you so happy. I’ll be so fucking good to you.”

 Your lips tremble and you just stare at him for a moment. A part of you still thinks this all just some sick and twisted joke he’s playing on you. If that was the case, all you want right now is for him to laugh in your face and tell you he was just messing around.

  But something about the blank expression on his face, his eyes not once ever leaving yours— tells you he isn’t joking. It only makes you all the more nauseous. You trusted him. Maybe it was foolish since you really hadn’t known him too long, but he seemed different. How were you supposed to know that he’d pull this stunt?

 A quiet sob escapes from your lips before you can stop it and he’s quick to pull you against his chest, one hand soothingly rubbing your back and the other running through your hair. You don’t push him away. Your body is still recovering from the hangover and lack of food in your system and in some sick and twisted way— You wanted any sort of comfort you could get right now.

 “I know it’s confusing now,” He murmurs against your hair as he buries his face into it before repeating himself.  “But I’ll make you so happy.”

And you almost want to believe him.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @theeillum1nator @pinkcoquettebow @nightmarenyxx @peterparkersgirlfriend1 @obsessedprincess @nommingonfood @lumineuxparker @kimbaedwi

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I know I know, this update took forever and I'm so sorry!!! School recently just started again and it's honestly kicking my ass trying to get used to my new schedule :///

That and the fact that writer's block is HITTING me, so if there anything you want to see, as always, send me requests or requests to be added to the taglist :) Again, thank you guys sm for reading this even when I'm taking forever to update

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU ~ V

IN WHICH you’re barely scraping by as a barista on minimum wage and Peter’s tired of seeing his favorite girl work herself to exhaustion.

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: DUB-CON, dark!peter parker, stalking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, babytrapping.

series masterlist

Peter thought you were a smart girl. He’s disappointed, really. 

Back in high school when it was the two of you— before Ned, before MJ, before he regretfully let anyone else into what the two of you had built— you had always thought things through. You rarely went to parties, never drank or smoked, were always home by curfew. Hell, you were the one that lectured Peter about being safe when out as Spiderman, you were the one that usually cleaned him up afterwards, you were the one that helped him sneak back in through the window of his apartment, and you were the one to shift any possible speculation of him being Spiderman at school. You were just smart and well-calculated like that.

And that’s exactly why he can’t wrap his head around why you’re drunk at a frat party. Jesus, he knew he hated your roommate for a reason. You would have never come here out of your own idea. Surely, she pressured you into coming. 

Peter swore he wouldn’t watch over you tonight, that tonight would be the night he put it to rest. But he just couldn’t help it. The moment he heard you agree to your roommate’s pleas of accompanying her to a frat party, he just had to make sure you were safe. And— at least in his mind, he’s right to do so too. Your roommate’s proved she’s not the most reliable person, who knows what would happen to you if he wasn’t making sure you were alright? 

He’s watching from a distance as she shoves another red solo cup in your hand, muttering something about a cranberry vodka mixer. His chest tightens— this had to be your eighth or ninth drink of the night. And if he wasn’t sick before at the sight of just how much you’re drinking, he’s definitely sick at the sight of what you’re wearing. A low-cut red top that accentuates your cleavage and a tight black mini-skirt that just barely covers your ass— all paired with knee high black boots.

You look fucking amazing. And that’s the problem.

You’re in a frathouse, surrounded by a bunch of horny guys that only want one thing. They’re practically ogling you up and down. His jaw tightens at the thought of you going home with one of them— did the time you spent together mean nothing to you? Was he simply just a hookup?

No. You’re not like that. He just needs to calm down. He just has to trust you. And he does, it’s other people that he doesn’t trust. It’s at moments like this where he wishes you would’ve just gone to community college. He admires your ambition, truly. But you being at university surrounded by a bunch of drunk and lustful people just scares him. Peter just worries for you, that’s all. Or better yet, you could’ve just stopped chasing more altogether and let him take care of you. If that had been the case, you wouldn’t be stuck at your dead end job, barely making ends meet to pay for school.

He’s watching from a distance in the crowd of people, observing as your roommate keeps shoving drunks into your reluctant hands.

“You should find a guy tonight.” The other girl insists, taking a swig from her cup.

Oh fuck no. It takes everything in him to not storm up to you in that moment and throw you over his shoulder. No way would he ever let anyone else take you from him. Not now, not ever.

You shake your head, eyes a little dazed, eyebrows furrowed while clearly trying to keep yourself upright. “No, the guy I want isn’t here.” You whine quietly, leaning against the wall for support.

His breathing steadies a little at that answer, he knew he could trust your judgement. Besides, he figures he’s the guy you're referring to, and that’s enough to reassure him.

“Whatever.” Your roommate huffs, before her eyes scan the crowd, setting her sights on a random guy. She turns back to you, a wicked grin gracing her lips. “I’ll be right back, try to have fun, will you?”

And with that, she’s walking off amongst the sea of people, leaving you alone, vulnerable, and utterly drunk. Peter fights the urge to scoff, what kind of friend leaves someone unattended in the midst of a party? 

His eyes narrow as you stumble slightly trying to keep yourself upright while headed for the exit of the party. The minute you step out of the house and into the cold night, he sees you fumbling around for your phone.

It’s not long after that his phone is ringing. 

Shit. 

He’s quick to answer, distancing himself further away from you to ensure you don’t hear him “Hello?” He answers casually.

“Hi Peter, sorry to call so late,” you breathe out.  “Can you pick me up?”

God, it really shouldn’t, but the way your voice is all breathy and whiny goes straight to his cock. You don’t even have to ask, of course he’d come save you. Peter knows he should feel ashamed, keeping tabs on you and following you around the way he does. But how can he? Clearly all his efforts paid off, if he was the first person you thought of calling when you needed help.

“Yeah, of course.” He answers. “Can you tell me where you are?” He asks like he’s not in the same vicinity of you. You mumble out the address of the frat house and he watches as you stumble to hold yourself up.

“Well, aren’t you lucky? I’m not that far. I’ll be there in five.” He chuckles as he takes a moment to situate himself. He figures he should probably take a bit of time to come get you, just so you don’t question how he got there so fast. You probably wouldn’t question it anyway, considering you were visibly on the verge of blacking out.

“Mkay.” You murmur, slightly staggering over towards a wall of the building before sliding down against it and sitting on the concrete, burying your head into your knees. 

He can’t help but chuckle at the sight. You’re cute like this. Sure, he didn’t love the fact that you got yourself in this predicament in the first place but he’d be lying if he said the sight of you all drunk and helpless wasn’t a bit amusing. 

But any sort of humor he finds in the situation quickly disappears when a random guy approaches you, slightly bending down to check on you. He’s a lanky guy, sporting a backwards cap on his head, and he’s a walking stereotype of any frat guy ever. Peter nearly scoffs, he’s not typically the cocky type, but he could easily wipe the floor off with this guy.

“You alright?” The stranger grins, the type of sick grin that shows he clearly has an ulterior motive.

“‘M fine.” You murmur, not even bothering to lift your head up to address him.

The other guy laughs quietly. “You don’t really look it, why don’t you let me give you a ride home?”

You’re quick to slowly shake your head, curling your knees up to your chest further. “I have a ride. He’ll be here. I think.”

“I don’t see him—”

Peter can’t watch any longer, refusing to let this linger any longer. He’s walking up from behind and calls your name, causing your head to snap up and the stranger to turn around. The immediate look of relief on your face isn’t lost on him, and he feels the strongest sense of satisfaction at the thought. That you need him. He would laugh in this other guy’s face, but he seems to be long gone anyway.

“Peter,” you breathe out at ease, stumbling to get up, practically rushing into his arms. He’s quick to catch you, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he holds you upright. “Thank god you’re here.”

“Of course I’m here.” He reassures, wrapping an arm around your waist as he helps you walk. “How much did you drink anyway?” He has a tendency of asking questions he already knows the answer to. 

“I dunno. Just want my bed.” You mumble, leaning against him for support, burying your face into his shoulder for comfort.

He stifles a chuckle and grins down at you. “We’ll get you to bed, angel.”

You hum quietly before mumbling. “My dorm. ‘S not too far from here.” 

“I think I know where it’s at, y’know from last time I dropped you off.” He remarks, considering that the fraternity house was on the same campus as your dorm. You don’t even answer, just stumble over the heeled boots you're wearing, holding onto him for support.

“Jesus, you can barely walk.” He utters, watching you helplessly hold yourself up.

“I’m fine, jus’ need to…” You can’t even finish your sentence, trailing off as you try to keep up with his pace in steps.

“Mhm. You’re really fine.” He agrees sarcastically before crouching slightly to hoist you into his arms, carrying you bridal style before getting back up to walk in the direction of your dorm. In hindsight, you probably could have persevered and walked while holding onto him for support. He just wants an excuse to carry you close.

A quiet giggle escapes your lips as you cling to him. “You’re strong.”

He rolls his eyes with a small grin, lightly gripping your thigh as he walks towards the direction of your dorm. “Yeah, you like that?”

“Mhm.” You nod with a dazed expression, sleepily smiling up at him. “My feet were hurting anyway.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.” He hums. It would feel odd, carrying someone home like this. It’s one thing to do it as Spiderman, but as Peter Parker? It’s different. But it’s a Saturday night at a college campus, people are bound to be drunk out of their minds. The sight really isn’t all that strange enough to spark any questions.

He notices you dozing off against his chest, and as much as he wants to relish in that, he needs you awake to let him into your dorm building.

“Stay awake for me, angel. Almost there.” He murmurs, lightly tapping on your cheek to wake you up. You grumble quietly but open your eyes in a begrudging manner. You’re quiet for a moment, silently pressed against him as he keeps a firm grip on you.

“This is so embarrassing.” You murmur. “But thank you for coming to get me.”

“You don’t gotta be embarrassed. I get it.” He says quietly, cradling you close as he approaches your building. He really doesn’t get it, you’re better than this. But he also doesn’t want you to ever feel ashamed around him, especially not when you clearly need him. Besides, he doesn’t want you thanking him for doing what he feels like is his job. 

“Can I have your key card?” He asks quietly. 

You silently rummage through your back pocket before your hand lands on the card, sluggishly handing it to him. He’s quick to take it and scan his way into the building.

“3rd floor. Room 304.” You mumble against his chest. He nods as he heads into the elevator. Thankfully, there’s no one around. But then again, it’s two in the morning on a Saturday, he wouldn’t expect a whole lot of people to be lingering around the dorms at this time.

When he eventually reaches your room, he gently sets you down so you can get your keys. A small whine escapes your lips as you feel your feet hit the ground. Peter snickers quietly as he keeps a hand around your waist to support you upright.

“It’s only for a minute, then you’ll be in bed.” He reassures as he watches you check around your pockets for your room keys. Your movements are slow at first before eventually becoming more frantic.

“Fuck.” You mutter under your breath before grabbing your phone.

“Everything alright?” Peter raises a brow, slightly cocking his head to the side.

“I think I forgot my keys inside… I’m calling Mia right now.” You groan quietly as you hit your roommate’s contact. The phone rings a couple times before eventually going to voicemail. Another, much louder groan, escapes your lips as you lightly bang your head against the wall.

“She’s not answerin’.” You mutter. “Probably went home with that guy.”

Peter would be mad on your behalf, mad at the fact that your Mia had already pushed you into coming out with her, got you super drunk, then ditched you. But honestly, he should be thanking her. This is perfect.

“You could just crash at my place.” He offers. “It’s not that far from here.”

You shake your head lightly. “I couldn’t. You went through so much trouble to help me tonight. I could see if one of my other friends would let me crash.”

“It really wasn’t that much trouble. I don’t mind, angel. It’s two in the morning, don’t call anyone else.” He reassures, trying not to make it seem too insistent, just how bad he wants you to come home with him.

You go quiet for a moment, seeming to ponder on it before looking back up at him with hazed and slightly guilty eyes. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“I promise.”

~

The moment Peter lays you down on his bed, your eyes are drooping and you’re curling into his sheets. He feels his chest— and his jeans— tighten at the sight of you like this. Your lips are flushed, eyes are dazed, and you look so helplessly needy. His eyes trail down your body, eyeing the way your breasts are nearly coming out of your top now from the angle that you're lying down at. You roll over onto your stomach, your skirt slowly riding up the curve of your ass, giving him a peak of the lacy pink panties you're wearing. Jesus.

“You don’t want to change into something more comfortable, angel?” He murmurs, crouching beside the bed to talk to you face to face. 

You grumble something incoherently, burying your face into his pillow. “Don’t need to.”

Peter rolls his eyes with a fond grin as he gets back up. “At least let me help you get your shoes off.”

You whine quietly but lightly stick your legs out towards him. He moves over to pull your boots down, fingers trailing down your thighs before his fingers grip the leather of your right leg. He can’t help but peek at the core of your lace bottoms and he wants nothing more than to know how you taste. He pulls the boot of your right leg off before moving to grab the left one, flinging the shoes across the room.

Peter stands there quietly before a movement, drinking the sight of you in. He eventually sits on the edge of the bed. You bury your face further into the pillow, and hitch a leg up for comfort, only giving him a better view of your ass and the undergarments that accentuate it. He really can’t help it, he needs to touch you in some sort of way. So, he settles for rubbing a gentle hand on your back.

“Those clothes can’t be comfortable,” He says in a low voice, faking concern. “You sure you don’t want to change?” He’s not asking because he cares about your comfort at this moment. He’s asking because he’s selfish and wants an excuse to see you bare.

“Too much work.” You mutter, shaking your head.

He can’t help but laugh. “Isn’t that what I’m here for? I’ll help.”

You go quiet for a moment, quietly lifting your head and watching as he grabs a t-shirt and sweats from his drawers before making his way back over to you. “Just gonna help you out of these clothes real quick. That okay?” He asks softly, tilting his head to the side.

You let out a quiet affirmative hum, rolling over and slightly sitting up as he helps you out of your top. He’s gentle in his movements, fingers grasping the hem of your top before riding it up, eventually pulling it over your head. His breath nearly hitches at the sight. Fuck, you’re not wearing a bra, you have to know what you’re doing to him. But he doesn’t want to stare too long, he doesn’t want you to catch on. He quickly grabs the t-shirt he picked, pulling it over your head and covering you up once more.

He then quietly moves towards your skirt, gripping the waistline with precision before slowly pulling it down, as if you’re some prize he’s opening up for himself. The moment the black fabric is off your body, it’s discarded on the floor. He stares at you for a moment, staring at the lacy thong you're wearing. As cute as it is, it’s in his way.

Peter knows it’s wrong. Ogling you the way he is, thinking about all the things he wants to do to you and how you can’t stop him. You’re drunk and vulnerable, and you trusted him to help you out. He really should just put the sweats on you and let you go to sleep. 

But Peter’s a selfish man. And the last year has been arguably the worst of his life. He lost everything— Aunt May, his friends, his identity, you. He sacrifices so much for the safety of this city, he’s put so much effort into keeping you safe— if anything, he deserves to be selfish. He deserves this. He deserves you.

“Just gonna try something real quick. Okay, angel?” He murmurs as he slowly spreads your legs, lowering himself down on the bed in between them.

“Hm?” You hum confusedly, opening an eye to look down at him. Your face is flushed and the moment you register what he’s doing, a look of hesitation graces your face.

“Peter… I’m tired.” You mumble, trying to shift away from him. But his strong hands grip your hips, gentle enough not to hurt you but firm enough to keep you in place. 

“You can rest, I’ll do all the work.” He mutters, a single finger dancing around the hem of your thong. He hooks his finger around the side of the fabric, tugging it slightly, as if dancing around the idea of taking them off and ruining you.

“Peter,” You mutter, a little louder. “I really don’t feel—”

He’s shushing you with a gentle kiss to your lips, keeping a firm hand around your panties as he does so. When he eventually pulls back, he tugs them off in one go, exposing your glistening cunt, and tossing the fabric to the floor.

“I’ll make you feel good, promise.” He soothes, sinking back down between your legs. “You gonna let me have a taste?”

You bite your lip in hesitation, eyebrows furrowing slightly. He can see the contemplation on your face before eventually sighing and nodding quietly. A small smirk of satisfaction graces his lips at your defeat. He rides his shirt up on your waist before burying himself into your core. He’s slow and calculated at first, as if wanting to ease you into it.

You let out a quiet moan as he runs his tongue up against your pussy, his hands firmly holding your legs apart. The sound only ignites him to go further, repeatedly lapping his tongue against your core, practically drinking you in. 

“Oh god.” You whine, throwing your head back against the pillow. Your hand finds its way into Peter’s hair, gripping it slightly as he practically shoves his face into your core. He lets out a low hum of pleasure against your pussy, tongue flicking up and down before enveloping your clit in between his lips and sucking heavily. His hand cups your ass, pulling your body down even further against his lips before moving his mouth down and reluctantly removing his mouth from your core. 

“Holy fuck, angel,” he groans out. “You taste fucking amazing.”

You look down at him with dazed and glossy eyes, lips slightly trembling. The sight of you like this does numbers to him and he lets out another quiet groan before lowering himself back down to lick a long stripe against your pussy before bringing two fingers up. 

“So fucking wet.” He mutters against your core as he runs his fingers through your slick, before slowly sliding them inside of you. A long, quiet whine erupts from your lips as you slightly clench around his fingers. The feeling only makes his boxers feel all the more suffocating as he begins gently pumping his fingers inside of you. “That feel good, baby? Gonna come from my fingers alone?”

You nod desperately, nearly letting out a scream as he adds a third finger. He smirks in satisfaction as he brings his mouth closer, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace, pressing a small kiss to your clit before taking it into his mouth once more and sucking mercilessly. 

“Peter—” You breathe out desperately, tightening your grip in his hair, causing him to moan against your pussy. “Peter, I’m gonna come.”

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your core before pressing another open-mouthed kiss against it. 

Your body’s practically convulsing against him, thighs pressing tight against either side of his head. He’s dragging your orgasm out, drinking it in and licking you clean as peppers small kisses all over your cunt. When he’s done cleaning you off, he pulls back and stands up from his place between your legs, basking the look of you in. 

“You look fucking perfect.” He mutters, drinking in the sight of you in his t-shirt, body slightly trembling from the orgasm you just rode out. You give him a shy and unsure smile, pressing your legs shut again. 

“I— I just wanna sleep now, okay?” You whisper, burying yourself under the sheets. He nods quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He murmurs before getting back up.

Peter almost wants to argue. He wants to beg you not to go to sleep and take care of the problem in his boxers. He wants to straddle you on his cock, have you ride him until you’re absolutely falling apart. But you’ve had a long night, and he’s pushed you enough. He’s not that much of an asshole. Besides, you’re here in his apartment now.

And you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @theeillum1nator @pinkcoquettebow @nightmarenyxx @peterparkersgirlfriend1 @obsessedprincess

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢

yeahh peter's a bit of a freak but anyways heres a little update before the new year loll

let me know if there's anything you'd like to see for this fic further, i'm always open to requests! and ofc let me know if you'd like the be added to the taglist :)

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU | Visualizer

series masterlist

Thought this would be cute to make for the fic! Also wanna clarify that the reader looks however you perceive her to be!! I just love Taylor Russell and wanted to use her as a faceclaim for this edit <3

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU ~ IV

IN WHICH you’re barely scraping by as a barista on minimum wage and Peter’s tired of seeing his favorite girl work herself to exhaustion.

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: DUB-CON, dark!peter parker, stalking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, babytrapping.

series masterlist

You stare down at the floor of the coffee shop, studying the tiles like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. Definitely not to avoid eye contact with your manager while being lectured for what feels like the thousandth time this week. 

In retrospect, you know he’s right. You did have a history of occasionally showing up late, but you’re a college student, with no car, relying on a bike to get you everywhere. A little bit of empathy would be nice.

“You’re a good kid and I really would hate to let you go,” The older man sighs. You fight back the urge to scoff. You’re not exactly a star employee or anything, you know that he’d have no trouble replacing you. “But if you show up late one more time, I’m gonna have too. I have an establishment to run.”

You nod quietly, lips tightly pursed into a somber smile. “Got it Dan. Won’t happen again.”

He nods with an uncomfortable grin before walking past you and back to what you presume is the kitchen. The moment he’s out of sight, your shoulders slump and you let out a quiet groan as you rest your back against a wall.

“All those times of showing up late finally catching up to you?” A sardonic voice chirps up.

You pull your head up to make eye contact with your coworker, Avery, an eyebrow quirked on her face as she looks at you with an amused grin.

“It’s not funny.” You whine, pulling up to the front counter to help her take orders.

“So… What’s the excuse this time? Studying for midterms? Extra credit?” She teases with a giggle.

You roll your eyes with a grin as you divert your attention to quickly take an order of an elderly woman waiting in line.

“Not this time… I had a— Well, I don’t know if it counts for a date but it was something. Ended up getting home late.” You shrug as you get started on the latte the woman had ordered.

The shocked and absolutely wicked grin that forms on Avery’s lips isn’t lost on you. “You? A date? Finally?” She gasps dramatically.

“Okay, don’t act like it’s so shocking.” You mutter, eyes watching the coffee machine begin brewing.

She throws her hands up in mock surrender. “Just never thought I’d see the day where you actually give a guy the time of day instead of locking yourself down to the library. Who’s the guy that sweeped you off your feet, hm?”

That cues another eye roll from you but you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips while you get to finishing making the latte. 

“Uh,” She doesn’t need all the details. “Just this guy that comes here occasionally. And he didn’t sweep me off my feet, I barely know him.” 

She nods with a little smirk as she turns her back to take an order, prompting a relieved exhale from you. You focus on finishing the drink before turning to hand it over to the elderly woman waiting, a warm smile gracing your lips as you repeat your line, “have a good one.”

The moment the woman steps out of view, you're met with a familiar figure that comes up from behind her.

“I didn’t sweep you off your feet? Ouch.” 

Your eyes widen and you bite your lip, mentally cursing at the fact that Peter had heard all that. He chuckles at the sight of your flustered expression, and Avery gasping and squealing “is that him?” God, if only you could disappear right now.

“Um… Same caramel latte from last time?” You mumble, avoiding eye contact with him.

Another chuckle from his lips as he nods. “Yeah, sure. That’s not what I’m here for though,” Peter hums as he slightly leans over the counter. “Just wanted to see when you’re free for me to take you on a real date? Hopefully one where I manage to sweep you off your feet this time.”

A lopsided grin forms on your lips as you let out a quiet and breathy laugh. “Well, I have work the rest of the week and I have to study for my midterm afterwards—”

“No she doesn’t.” Avery quickly cuts in with a wicked grin. “She’s free after our shift today at 5. Pick her up then.”

Peter gives the girl a thankful nod, as if acknowledging the assistance she just gave him before turning back to you. “Well?”

You mentally curse. You really like Peter, you do. He’s cute, respectful, charming, and he’s shockingly built— he’s everything you’d seek out in a guy. But there’s honestly no emotional availability in you for a relationship, not when you’re so focused on school and work. You really don’t want to string the poor guy along.

It’s as if Peter can read the hesitation on your face and he’s immediately reassuring you. “Hey, if you’re busy with midterms, I get it. No pressure. Maybe we can catch up another time?”

Fuck, you feel bad. You can see the disappointment in his face even though he’s masking it with a boyish grin. You’re not used to guys being so understanding, every college douchebag you’ve given a chance could never seem to take no for an answer.

Maybe your roommate and Avery are right. You just need to learn to balance your social life and your academics. It’d be nice to have something— someone to look forward to after practically slaving away at work and school.

“No, no. I’m free after my shift.” You quickly speak. “Did you have anywhere in mind?”

There's a silent look of victory on his face as he nods with a witty grin. “You’ll see.”

You raise your eyebrow at that. It couldn’t be that special he couldn’t tell you, right?

 “Where are you taking me?” You ask Peter with an amused smile which earns a shrug from him.

“Guess you’ll have to see to find out.” He hums as he turns to head out the shop. “I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift. See you then, angel.”

Your eyes follow his figure as he heads out the shop, unsure of how to feel. Besides, you don’t really have time to register how you feel before Avery’s squealing and squeezing your shoulders.

“He is so—” She makes a dramatic moan gesture, causing you to roll your eyes and stifle a laugh. “You were seriously just gonna let him get away to fucking study?”

“God forbid I don’t want to fail my midterms.” You sigh, shaking your head.

She’s about to interject before you’re both being yelled at by your manager, again, demanding you two get back to work. Avery suppresses a groan before giving you a smirk and heading back to the register.

“Can’t wait to hear all the dirty details later.” She sings and you narrow your eyes at her antics.

“There will be no dirty details.”

~

Just like he said he would, Peter comes strolling into the cafe at exactly 4:58pm, looking around for you. You’re in the kitchen, taking off your apron and cap to change back into your coat when you hear his muffled voice asking Avery where you were.

“I’m here!” You call, throwing on your coat as you step out the kitchen, greeting him with a warm smile.

“You ready?” He hums, cocking his head to the side. You nod with a small chuckle, waving Avery goodbye as the two of you head out.

“Have fun you two!” She calls out, clearly suggesting something more. “Not too much fun though!”

You scoff as Peter rests his hand on the small of your back, leading you out to his car. “She’s quite the character.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You laugh breathily. “I don’t know how I’d survive work without her, though.”

“What do you mean?” He inquires, eyebrows furrowed a bit. “I mean, working there can’t be that bad.”

“Yeah you would think. Just my annoying boss and rude customers, nothing serious. I just wanna complain.” You chuckle in a subdued manner.

“I think that’s valid.” He shrugs as the two of you reach his car. He moves to open the passenger seat door for you as you head in, quickly murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he shuts you in.

A moment later, he’s following you in the driver’s seat, putting his key into the ignition before starting the car.

“So,” you trail off with a hum. “You're gonna tell me where you’re taking me now?”

“Like I said,” he teases as he backs out of the parking lot. “You’ll see when we get there.”

You furrow your eyebrows at that, slight pout forming on your lips. “So, for all I know, you could take me somewhere random and kidnap or kill me, can’t I just have a little hint?”

A sharp laugh escapes his lips and you can’t help but note that it seems nearly robotic, like he trained himself with that response. He shakes his head. “It’s nothing crazy, just trust me.”

“I trust you— sort of,” you say defensively before teasing him. “Just know my roommate’s got my location.”

He nods with a chuckle, throwing a single hand up in mock surrender. “Got it.” 

A small giggle comes from your lips as you rest your head against the window, watching the scenery of the city pass by, and it's in that brief moment of solitude where you can’t help but wonder what you’re doing.

You barely know Peter, yet here you are. In his car, letting him take you somewhere completely random. You’re not usually one to be so careless, but Peter seems sweet enough to not take advantage of you like that. Besides, you rarely ever indulge into anything, you deserve to have some fun too. It’s not like this is anything serious.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” 

His voice snaps you out of thought as you lift your head up to look at him with a small smile. “Nothing, just admiring the view.”

He nods in thought, one hand on the steering wheel, the other finding its way to rest on your thigh. You raise an eyebrow at the gesture, but to be fair, this same guy had his tongue down your throat not even two days ago, so it’s not like it’s weird or anything. Besides, you're definitely not complaining, it feels right.

~

Peter’s losing his mind when he pulls into the parking lot of their old apartment building. The one where you both used to live back in highschool— back when things were simple and you spent all your time at his apartment, chatting off his and May’s ears.

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes widen at the sight of the old building. Okay, so you clearly remember the fact that you used to live here, you just don’t remember him.

“Why are we here?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, clearly a little creeped out. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” You laugh nervously.

He acts clueless, tilting his head to the side. “I used to live here, just thought I could show you the rooftop view.”

If your eyes weren’t wide enough, they’re nearly bulging out your head now. “No way, you’re joking.” When you see he’s not, you gasp in surprise. “I used to live here! How have we never met until now?”

A bitter laugh almost escapes his lips as he shrugs. “Beats me. I usually kept to myself most of the time, to be fair.”

You’re still clearly shocked at the connection, watching as he gets out the car to open the passenger seat door for you.

“I don’t really get why your car’s childlocked, it’s not like you have any kids,” You laugh quietly as you exit the car, following behind him as you shut the door. “Unless there’s some secret child you didn’t tell me about.” You sweet dumb thing, he thinks.

“Nope, definitely no kids.” He chuckles as the two of you head inside the vacant building. “The car just… Came like that.”

It’s a lie, but it’s the quickest excuse he can seem to think of. Besides, you don’t seem to question it anyway.

“I can’t believe we both lived here and I haven’t met you until now.” You speak up, shifting the conversation back. “What floor were you on? I was on the second.”

“Fourth floor.” He answers tersely, watching as you nod.

“Okay, so I guess that sort of explains why we didn’t run into each other. You didn’t go to Midtown High, did you?” You question as the two of you head inside the building. Once it opens, you both immediately head inside the elevator, Peter leaning over to press the button that leads to the rooftop.

He gives you a tight-lipped grin as he nods. “I did.”

“Jesus, it really is a small world— Wait.”

He freezes as you briefly pause. He doesn’t like the way you paused mid sentence. Like you just figured out something horrific, and he’s mentally preparing to lie his way out of whatever you’re about to throw at him.

“When we first met, didn’t you say you were new to the area?” You inquire, cocking your head to the side in confusion.

“Did I?” He chuckles. “I don’t remember.”

“I could’ve sworn you did.” You trail off, looking at him a bit confused. God, he hates that look on your face. Hates the skepticism and slight fear in your eyes.

“You told me you’d just move here, something about being here for college or whatever.” You squint your eyes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I mean I moved here my senior year, so it’s only been a year, I don’t know— I guess I still consider that new to the area?” He laughs nervously as the elevator eventually stops and brings the two of you to the roof. 

“Oh.” You say quietly, clearly still a little doubtful. 

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you as you both stare off into the sunset. 

He hates this. Hates seeing you uncomfortable around him. Especially when you used to never not have anything to say to him.

Peter doesn’t even know why he brought you here, in all honesty. Maybe some part of him deep down thought— hoped that bringing you back to the place where the two of you carved your names into the concrete wall and would spend hours talking about anything and everything, would somehow rejog your memories.

It clearly didn’t.

“This is a really pretty view,” you say quietly, breaking the silence. “Don’t know why I never came up here when I was here.”

Peter can’t help but feel frustrated at that. You used to come up here all the time with him. Used to wait up for him late at night after he’d come back from nightly patrols, help him clean up and get back to his apartment when he was too exhausted to do it himself. He guesses he can’t complain entirely. Once he started dating MJ, he left you hanging on the rooftop alone a lot more often. You eventually stopped waiting around for him.

He’d take it all back if he could. He would’ve given you the love and attention you deserved from the beginning. 

“Yeah,” He breathes out. “I used to come up here a lot just to get away from everything. I don’t know, I just figured you seemed so stressed with work and school and stuff, you might’ve wanted a quick getaway too.”

You turn your head towards him, giving him a warm smile. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

Okay, you’re not mad at him, thank god. 

“Anytime.” He grins before pausing then speaking up again. 

Another brief moment of silence falls between the two of you, but this time it’s a lot more comfortable.

He really doesn’t know what comes over him when he suddenly gets the idea to tell you something. More precisely show you something. Maybe it’s the overwhelming urge to make you remember, make things feel like how they used to be. 

“Wanna see something cool?” Peter suddenly asks, raising your curiosity.

“Always.” You hum with a curious smile, eyeing him as he gets up and offers you his hand, to which you hesitantly take.

“You trust me right?” He asks with a cheeky grin, noting the skeptical look in your eyes.

“Considering I only met you like two weeks ago, I wouldn’t say—”

You can’t even finish that sentence before he’s hoisting you up in his arms bridal style, a small squeal escaping your lips. Your panic only furthers when he walks towards the ledge of the rooftop.

“Oh my god, you’re gonna kill me, aren’t you? Peter put me down.” You plead in a panic, chest tightening as you hear him chuckle.

“I’m not gonna kill you, calm down. Just hold on tight.” He grins, only freaking you out further.

“What?” You exhale, tightening your grip around his neck.

Before you can even register, he’s jumping off the ledge and you’re letting out the loudest scream you didn’t even think was possible. You shut your eyes, bracing yourself for hard impact, only for it to never come.

“Open your eyes, angel.”

You slowly open your eyes, feeling a rush of cold air encompass your face as it registers to you that he’s swinging in the air from rooftop to rooftop.

And just as quick as the moment starts, it ends even quicker. Peter’s not in his suit, he’s not gonna risk someone seeing him, even if there’s no one where they are. Besides, he doesn’t wanna overstimulate you too badly.

“What the fuck.” You breathe out, causing him to laugh as he quickly swings back to where you both were, gently landing his feet on the ground, arms still tight around you.

“Cool, right?”

“No, not cool! How the fuck did you do that?” You freak out, chest heaving as you lightly smack his chest to put you down.

He gently sets you back on the ground, staring at you with an amused expression. “Put two and two together.” He cocks his head to the side with a smirk, pulling the collar of shirt down, revealing glimpses of a red suit.

You furrow your brows, before your eyes practically pop out of your head as realization washes over you. It’s adorable, really. Watching you put the pieces together, a wave of shock hitting you.

“No. No. You’re messing with me.” You shake your head, rubbing your temples as if this is some bad dream you’re trying to wake up from.

“I’m not.” He interjects. This wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d hoped you would have. Honestly, he didn’t know what he was expecting but a small part of him was hoping you’d be excited about all this. In hindsight, it makes sense that you’re freaked out. You barely know him and he’s dropping this bomb on you. It’s weird, having to reintroduce this entire side of himself to you— when once upon a time, you were the one that figured it out yourself, gladly helping him out from the sidelines.

“So it was you that walked me home that one night?” You suddenly ask.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “That was me.”

You pause for a moment before laughing in disbelief. “So, what… You decided to be my guardian angel or whatever?”

That’s an understatement, he thinks to himself.

“No, that night was pure coincidence when I ran into you.” He explains softly, despite it being an absolute lie. Of course, he was watching you like he always does, making sure you got home okay. You don’t need to know that though, he doesn’t want to freak you out more than you already are.

You nod in understanding before you look up at him with confused eyes.

“I don’t get why you’re telling or showing me this.” You whisper.

“I trust you.” He shrugs, his indifference clearly staggering you. You’ve figured it out once before, what’s the harm in you knowing now?

“You barely know me!” You groan before speaking in a hushed whisper. “You’re Spiderman, isn’t your identity supposed to be super secret or whatever?”

He can’t help but snort at your change of volume and the fact that you’re still as logical as ever, watching as you freak out. “I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna tell, are you?”

“I’m not, but what would happen if I did?” You ask hesitantly.

He shrugs once more. “I’d have to kill you.”

Your eyes widen in absolute terror. Okay, bad joke.

“That was a joke.” He huffs out, noting the way you visibly relax. “That’s for me to worry about.”

“I just, don’t get why me?” You ask in frustration, still clearly trying to wrap your head around it.

“I have my reasons, you’ll just have to trust me.” He hums, chuckling as he watches you groan in frustration once more.

“That’s barely an answer!” You huff. “Do you just go around telling anyone you get remotely close to?”

“Only pretty girls that I save from creepy guys and bad dates.” 

You narrow your eyes at him before sighing and shaking your head, stifling a grin. “Jesus, Peter Parker, you are something.”

“Something good, I hope?” He teases.

“Yeah,” you laugh breathily. “Something good.”

“So, what now?” You exhale. “You tell me your Spiderman then take me out to dinner, hopefully?”

A small laugh escapes his lips as his hand finds the small of your back, leading you back to the elevator. “Name a place, I’ll take you there.”

~

The two of you never did make it to dinner. You never even made it out the parking lot. The walk back to his car was quiet, his hand gripping your waist, a quiet tension lingering in the air. He blames it on the fact that he just dropped his biggest secret on you— definitely not because he wants to absolutely ruin you right now.

Something in him just seems to snap as he pushes you into the backseat of his car before climbing in after you, shutting the door behind him.

“Peter—” You gasp out as his lips crash against yours, effectively cutting you off. It’s a mix of lips and teeth, and god, the way you immediately return the kiss tells him you need more. Your hands are tangled in his hair and his hands are gripping your hips, effectively keeping you pinned to the seat beneath him. You don’t even notice his hand tugging on the end of your shirt.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs against your lips, as he lightly pulls up your shirt. You nod quietly, and that’s all he needs before he’s pulling off your top and throwing it to the front seat. His eyes rake over you, hungry and desperate as he observes the lacy black bra you’re wearing.

“Cute bra,” he smirks, tilting his head to the side. “You wear that for me?”

“Don’t get too cocky, I didn’t even know we were hanging out today till I started my shift.” You roll your eyes with a small grin as you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him down for another kiss. His hands are everywhere before settling on cupping your breasts, as his tongue licks the edge of your lips before pushing past them.

You pull away for a moment, nose brushing against his as you tug on his pants. “Off. Please.” You murmur quietly, watching as he obliges with no question. You wait for a moment watching silently as he practically rips his shirt and jeans off before shrugging off his suit underneath, and you can’t help but giggle at the fact that he has to go through all the trouble to get the suit off, like it’s hitting you that he’s doing all this because he wants you that bad.

You bite your lip the moment he kicks his boxers off, tossing them to the front along with all the other discarded clothes, laying back with your elbows supporting you up. You fight back the urge to gasp when your eyes finally trail down. No fucking way he expected that to fit inside you. He doesn’t seem to notice your gaze before he’s leaning down to hungrily connect his lips with yours once more, a single hand trailing to your back to unclip your bra, tossing it to the car floor.

His kisses shift from your lips all the way down to your neck, pressing soft kisses along your jawline all the way down to your collarbone, hands kneading your breasts while he does so before trailing down and gently covering your hardened nipple with his mouth. A soft moan escapes your lips and the sound goes straight to his dick as he presses it against your clothed core, lips never leaving your breast once. 

His tongue swirls around the bud, and he feels your legs twitch at the feeling, only pushing him to suck harder as he gropes your unattended breast with his free hand. “Peter,” You gasp out as he rubs his cock against your matching lacy black panties, causing you to try and lean down to pull them off, his hand grabbing your wrist to stop you. “Please?” You pout quietly.

The sound of you quietly begging does something inexplicable to Peter. He pulls off your nipple with a wet pop before moving down to practically rip your panties off, tossing them on top of your stomach. 

“Hey! Those weren’t cheap!” You whine, partially from the fact that the lacy black bottoms were now ruined and partially from the cold rush you feel down your core.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters as he lines his cock up against your lips. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You bite your lip and nod, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I’m sure.”

That’s all he needs before he’s pushing himself inch by inch inside of you, a quiet groan coming from him as the warmth swallows him in. “Fuck, angel. You feel so good.” He moans before eventually thrusting the entirety of his length inside you.

A loud squeal escapes your lips as your legs instinctively wrap around him tighter. “You— You can move.” You breathe out, chest heaving up and down.

He nods quietly before slowly moving in and out of you. A small groan escapes your lips as you look up at him with a frustrated look. “I’m not gonna break, you can move faster.”

That’s all he really needs to hear before his hips slam into yours. Fuck, maybe you spoke too soon. A long whine erupts from your lips as he holds your hips while fucking you at an unforgiving pace. He’s watching you intensely— from your glossy eyes, to your swollen lips, to the way your tits bounce up and down as he thrusts in and out of you.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me.” He mutters, grip on your hips tightening as he moves faster. “Have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

“Can’t— Can’t be that long,” You managed to get out, trying to steady your breathing as he snapped his hips into your core.

He almost wants to laugh. Jesus, you really are clueless. You seriously think he’s been waiting two weeks when he’s been waiting for the last two years to finally have you beneath him like this— helpless and begging for it.

But he bites his lip, holding those words back as he focuses on pleasuring you. You throw your head back, a series of moan escaping your mouth as he fucks into you ravenously— as if his life depends on pleasuring you.

“So good, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good around me.” He groans, losing himself in the feeling. It’s everything he imagined and more.

You can’t even respond, head thrown back and mouth stuck in an “O” shape as tears of pleasure slowly begin to flow down your cheeks. He grabs the back of your thighs, pushing them up and practically bending you in half as your knees touch either side of your head, giving him better leverage to fuck himself into you. Your eyes widen as you grab onto his bicep for support, biting your lip to stifle any more sounds escaping your lips.

He keeps that position for a while before his hips eventually falter, feeling his orgasm slowly approach. And by the looks of it, you can feel it too. 

“Peter,” you gasp. “Pull out.”  In the heat of the moment, he remembers that he didn’t even wear a condom, too desperate to be inside of you as quickly as possible.

Some sick and twisted part of him wants to say no, wants to finish himself deep inside of you and make you carry his seed around. He can’t help but think you’d look cute carrying his kid.

But he can’t scare you off like that just yet, so he just nods with a clenched jaw before eventually sliding out of you, grabbing your ripped panties and finishing in them.

A long, comfortable silence falls between the two of you as he helps you sit up and lean back against the seat. You eye down the black, laced underwear before sighing dramatically.

“You owe me a new pair.” You huff as you toss them to the side. He chuckles quietly and nods, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

 “I’ll get you whatever you want.”

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢

It's been a minute since I've posted lolll, finals week had me dead and I needed a break so I’m sorry if this chapter is a little off or anything 😭 I can’t lie, I’ve never written smut before so I genuinely apologize if it’s poorly written, It’s my first time, I tried </3

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU ~ III

IN WHICH you’re barely scraping by as a barista on minimum wage and Peter’s tired of seeing his favorite girl work herself to exhaustion.

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: DUB-CON, dark!peter parker, stalking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, babytrapping.

series masterlist

 Peter despises your roommate. And that’s not an understatement.

 She’s constantly pushing you to do things you don’t want to do, whether it be going to frats, getting blackout drunk, or her constant pressure for you to get into a relationship or even just meaningless hookups. Nevermind the fact that you’ve explained to her multiple times that you’re just really focused on school and work and you have absolutely no time for a relationship, she just never seems to get the message.

 The final blow was the blind date she just informed you she set you up on with one of her boyfriends friends from his frat. And the worst part? You actually caved into her this time. He clearly remembers the small shrug you gave her, along with lightly agreeing it wouldn’t hurt to not be alone all the time.

 He had to fight the urge not to scoff, hearing you say that. You’d never be alone once the time was right for you and him, you just had to wait. 

 God, the thought of you being with a guy like that makes Peter physically nauseous. There’s just no way he can subject you to a fate like that. He’s saving you from this douchebag if anything. 

 At least that’s what he tells himself as he watches you put on an uncomfortable tight-lipped smile as the guy— Trevor— rants about his self-driving car, a cocky and proud smile resting on his lips. You deserve a medal for not exploding right then and there, honestly.

 Poor you, Peter thinks to himself as he slightly slouches back in his seat, covering himself with his menu. You dressed all nice and pretty, did your hair, and makeup— you put so much effort— all for a guy who showed up in socks and sandals paired with a hoodie. 

 However he’s snapped out of his thoughts when he sees Trevor carelessly excuses himself from the table, claiming to need to take an ‘important phonecall’ and Peter swears he heard this guy answer the phone with a “hey baby”, the moment you’re out of earshot. 

 He looks back at you, noticing the sigh escape your lips as you slump back in your seat and take a sip of your water. His brows furrow at the sight of you in clear frustration and if he hated your roommate at all before? He absolutely loathes her now. There’s not much he knows about girl code, but isn’t having your friend’s best interest in mind just a basic rule?

 He quietly observes you as you wait for Trevor to come back, your fresh manicure lightly tapping on the table as you look around the establishment for him. Your waitress passed by your table at least three times, asking if you were ready to order. And each time you weakly told her that you were waiting for someone. The look of sympathy on your waitress’s face wasn’t lost on Peter. 

 He couldn’t watch any further, couldn’t watch you be pushed off to the side when this asshole was clearly standing you up. He bites his bottom lip in a moment of contemplation before pushing himself out of his seat, acting as though he was just passing by through the restaurant and you just happened to be there at the same time.

 “Hey, you’re the girl from the coffee shop, right?” He asks with a warm grin on his face as he stops in front of your table. He repeats your name as if to confirm he remembered it from last time.

 Your eyes light up and you’re quick to straighten up in your seat. “Uh– yeah! Peter?”

He nods with a hum.  “Funny running into you here.”

“It’s a small world.” You shrug with a small grin.

 He chuckles lightly at that. “You here alone?”

 There’s a look of hesitation on your face, as if you’re struggling on what the right thing to say would be. You eventually sigh before answering. “I guess so.”

 Peter raises a brow, pretending to be confused. “Guess so?” He repeats.

 “Long story.” You wave your hand dismissively.

 “I mean,” he shrugs. “I have time.”

 Your grin slowly widens in amusement, as you gesture to the empty seat in front of you. “If you insist.”

 “I don’t wanna intrude or anything—“

 “No, no!” You exclaim, coming off way more enthusiastic than you wanted too. He can see you mentally cringe, and it’s the cutest thing. “The company would be nice.” You add quietly.

 He nods with a small grin as he sits across from you.

 “So,” he trails off, taking in your appearance. “What’s the story?”

 You groan playfully, throwing your head back. “You’re just always catching me at the worst time, huh?” He throws his hands up in mock surrender, stifling a laugh.

 The sentiment makes you giggle before you roll your eyes. “Just some blind date gone extremely wrong. Pretty sure the guy just bailed.”

 “God, that’s evil.” He sympathizes, leaning back in his seat with a small smirk. “But hey, free upgrade to better company?”

 The comment gets a genuine smile out of you as you nod in agreement. “Definitely better.”

 “So how did you end up on a blind date from hell?” He tilts his head. He knows exactly why, he just wants to hear it from you and be validated in his disdain for your roommate.

 You purse your lips and shake your head. “My roommate set me up with one of her boyfriend’s frat bros.” There’s a grimace on your face. “She says I need to loosen up or whatever.” 

 There’s a brief pause in the conversation before you speak up again. “What about you? What brings you here tonight?”

 He opens his mouth to try and bullshit some quick excuse. Fuck, he should’ve planned this out better.

 Luckily for him, the same waitress from earlier approaches your table with a relieved smile. As if she’s somehow relieved you didn’t end up alone tonight.

 “Ready to order you two?” She asks sweetly with her notepad.

 “I’ll just have the Risotto.” You smile at her before you both turn to Peter.

 “I’ll have whatever she’s having.” He responds casually, noting as the waitress writes that down before grabbing your menus from the both of you and heading off.

 You raise an eyebrow with a question grin. “You’ll have what I’m having? Was that to be cute or just to be quick?”

“Both? I dunno I figured you had plenty of time to figure out what sounded best while waiting for that asshole.”

A small giggle escapes your lips as you shake your head. “Fair enough.”

 “So does this count for a date?” You ask jokingly. It might’ve been a little forward considering you barely know the guy, but what do you have to lose?

 “Nah,” Peter dismisses with feigned casualty, noting the slight look of disappointment on your face. “This doesn’t count, it wasn’t planned. I’ll take you on a real date whenever you want.”

 “Oh.” Your smile reaches your eyes, and he’s doing mental laps of victory at the sight. 

  “So, since we’re having this unofficial date and you already know a bit about me,” You trail off, leaning forward and resting your arms on the table. “I gotta ask— what else do you do besides apparently saving damsels in distress? Are you also in school? Any hobbies?”

 He bites his lip in hesitation. He was enrolled at the same university as you, only part time though. And he can’t exactly explain that he’s only in school part-time because his full-time job was Spiderman.

 It’s at times like these where he really wished you still remembered. Just wishes it could go back to being the two of you, where you already knew everything about him and he never had to explain himself.

 “Uh yeah, I’m in school studying physics and I guess when I’m not doing that I’m really into photography.” He responds flatly with a tight grin. 

 “Photography, huh?” You ask curiously. “What do you normally like to photograph?” 

 You, he damn near says. He can’t even count the countless polaroids and digital photos he has of you. Whether it be you blissfully unaware on your way to class or just out and about with your friends. God, thinking back on it now makes him feel creepy but it’s not like he’s doing anything weird with them. Just admiring you.

 “Just landscapes and portraits.” He replies dismissively. “Nothing that interesting.”

“Oh I doubt that, you should show me your camera roll sometime.” You tease.

 Fuck. That cannot happen. Not at least until he transfers all his photos of you to a private folder.

 “Mm… That seems more like a second date type of activity, don’t you think?” He smirks, attempting to deflect.

 “Does that mean this unofficial one counts for a first then?” You tilt your head up with an innocent look.

“Yeah,” He sighs with a chuckle. “Guess it does.”

~

 In hindsight, you really don’t know how you ended up here. 

 One moment you were conversing over anything and everything over at dinner with Peter and the next, you’re in the back of his car with his lips moulded against yours, large hands tangled in your hair, effectively keeping you held in place. Not that you were gonna move anyway.

 It’s a cramped space and there’s really not much room to move in the back of his Ford Falcon. Your legs are quick to wrap around his waist while his hands travel from the back of your head down to your hips, just barely brushing over your ass. Your hands are quick to grip his jaw, pulling him in as close as possible.

 You’re really not looking for anything further tonight but God, the way his hips are grinding into your core have you reconsidering.

 You manage to slightly pull back, lips slicked and swollen from his damage. “Peter,” you managed to rasp out as his lips attacked your neck. “It’s really late and I have work tomorrow, I really should head back home.” 

 His breathing is rough and his chest slightly heaves up and down as he pulls back, pouting slightly. “You can’t stay here a little longer?”

 “My boss will kill me if I’m late,” you whine as he drills his core further against yours. “I’m sorry.” 

 He groans slightly but nods and pulls back, fixing his hair and readjusting his top. “Don’t gotta apologize, I get it. Guess I just got carried away.”

 A brief pause as he looks back at you. “I’ll drive you home.”

 You mumble a quick ‘thank you’ as he hops out the backseat, offering you a hand to pull you out before leading you to the front passenger seat. The moment he sees you settled in, he shuts the door and heads to the driver’s seat, hopping in and igniting the engine.

 “My dorm isn’t too far from here, I can give you directions.” You offer, noticing his knuckles going white from gripping the wheel.

 “Uh… Yeah. That’d be great, thanks.” He stammers as he backs out of the parking lot.

 It’s a relatively quiet drive, minus you occasionally giving him directions on where to turn. It’s a comfortable silence as you rest your head against the window, staring out and taking in the sight of the city.

 You mentally groan at just how much you already miss him all over you. But alas, you need that job. School isn’t gonna pay for itself. And you know, you shouldn’t take things too far. You had way too much on your radar and a relationship really isn’t at the top of your priorities. 

 “We’re here.” He murmurs as he slowly pulls into the parking lot of your residence hall, snapping you out of your thoughts.

 “Thank you again for— well, for everything. You know, being with me tonight and driving me back.” You thank him in an audible whisper.

 “Don’t need to thank me,” He murmurs, leaning closer into you, nose brushing against yours. “We should do this again.”

 “Which part?” You joke quietly.

 He rolls his eyes while fighting a grin. “All of it.”

 You chuckle quietly, hesitantly meeting his eyes as your hand finds and grips the car handle. “G’night Peter.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he closes the gap between you two, meeting your lips with his once again.

 It’s very different from earlier. This is patient and sweet. It’s slow and careful, and you’re already dreading it being over when you feel him pull back.

 “Goodnight angel.” He whispers.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢

bit of a longer chapter lol but i hope you all enjoy this! i kinda rushed it im ngl but i figured i'd pump out one more chapter before possibly going stagnant for the next two weeks because of finals also lmk if anyone caught the sabrina reference in the beginning lolll

also would anyone be interested in being added to a taglist if i made one?

[meetmeinverona]

𝒚𝒂𝒓𝒂’𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔 & 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔 ݁ᛪ༙

𝑹𝑼𝑳𝑬𝑺

• Honestly, I write a lot of dark stuff so there isn’t TOO much to say as to what I will not write but the one thing I absolutely refuse to write is incest, INCLUDING stepfamily incest, I just cannot do it. If there’s anything else that comes up I’ll def update!

• Please feel free to send me requests!!! God knows I have so much writer’s block and would love to bring a vision to life! A request isn’t a guarantee I’ll write it, but I’ll def try <3

𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑳𝑨𝑰𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑺

• Like I said, I will be writing about a lot of dark and taboo topics. I’ll always put trigger warnings at the beginning of a fic, if anything discomforts you, I totally understand so please feel free to skip.

• I like to create visualizers for my fics!! It helps me want envision the fic and want to write more!!But I want to clarify that any faceclaims I use for edits are NOT adjacent to how the reader looks, the reader in my fics will always be up to your interpretation :)

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU ~ II

IN WHICH you're barely scraping by as a waitress on minimum wage and Peter's tired of seeing his favorite girl work herself to exhaustion.

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader.

warnings: DUB-CON, dark!peter parker, stalking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, babytrapping.

series masterlist

It’s completely dark out when you finally close up the cafe, an exasperated yet quiet sigh leaving your lips. Tuesdays and Thursdays were always the worst considering closing was your job, and walking alone back to your dorm in the middle of Queens at midnight wasn’t exactly the safest thing to do, but oh well. You’ve got your pepper spray and your roommate’s got your location, so there’s the unsettling comfort in that. Nothing’s ever happened before, and you’re certain nothing will happen now.

You quickly slip your earbuds in, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket for warmth as you quietly walk back to campus. It’s only a 15-minute walk, and if anything, you like the solitude of being by yourself with your playlist on. Nevermind the fear of possibly being kidnapped or killed, the music’s good enough for that to be an afterthought.

It’s halfway into your walk back home when you get the uneasy feeling you’re not alone. Obviously you’re never alone, the streets of Queens are always busy, but it feels like you’re being followed.

Chalking it up to paranoia, you turn down the volume of your song, looking down at the concrete as you quicken up your pace ever so slightly. You’ve walked this route thousands of times, what’s different now?

The large shadow coming up from behind you makes it clear pretty quick that you’re not being paranoid. You feel your breath hitch as you tighten your grip on your pepper spray, turning around quickly prepared to defend yourself.

It’s the asshole from earlier this morning. Jack? Jace? Whatever the hell his name was. You mentally curse at the fact that there’s no cute guy to come to your defense this time.

“What? Your little boyfriend ain’t around to save you?” He pouts in a high-pitched mocking tone. You bite your tongue, wanting desperately to tell him off. You’re too old to be acting like this, get a fucking job. But you fear that’d definitely piss him off and you really don’t want to do anything that could result in him getting violent.

“Just… Leave me alone, I didn’t do anything to you.” You manage, voice trembling more than you would’ve liked it to. You slowly back up, silently cursing at the sight of him stalking towards you. Would now be the time to start running?

The answer would’ve been yes, but the older man is grabbing you by the shoulder before you can act. “Except you did do something,” He seethes with a bitter grin, teeth baring out. “Wasn’t really happy with your service and I really wasn’t happy about the fact that you lied about that guy, sweetheart..” You mentally gag at the nickname and it really takes everything in you not to throw up from his grasp on your shoulder. An off-guarded scream is quick to escape your lips, praying for some sort of intervention as you try to grab your pepper spray. An amused chuckle escapes his lips as he begins inching even closer to you, knocking the pepper spray out of your hands.

~

Peter knew he probably shouldn’t be following you as closely as he was, that he should probably be patrolling the rest of the city too. That was the point of these nightly patrols, after all. But he couldn’t help it.

It’s late at night and you’re a young woman alone in the midst of a big city. Who knows what would’ve happened to you by now if he hadn’t been following you home every single time you were stuck on closing duty, making sure you got back to your dorm safe? He’s doing you a favor, if anything.

In hindsight, he has no clue why he concerns himself so much with your wellbeing. You barely even know or remember him. He knows you though, and that’s all that matters. At least that’s what he tells himself to justify his need to know where you are and how you’re doing at every given moment.

The two of you knew each other back in high school. God, you didn’t just know each other. You were practically joint at the hip. You practically lived at his place back in high school, even Aunt May loved you. There was never a moment where you two weren’t together.

You figured his secret before anyone else could, before Ned, before MJ. Hell, you even figured out he was Spiderman before May. He couldn’t keep anything from you. You just got him.

Honestly, it all came burning down between you both once he and MJ started dating. It wasn’t like there was any bad blood between you and MJ, you guys were close. He just started neglecting your friendship in the focus of his relationship. He stopped coming over, stopped making any moves to hangout with you, started ditching you in favor of being with her. It was like you just didn’t exist to him anymore.

And you told him that.

He ignored you, though. He’ll never forgive himself for that.

Even when he and MJ broke up, even after as wrong as he did you— You still helped him during the literal crack in the multiverse and it seemed like his life was falling apart. You were there.

And he realized what he had far too late. You don’t even remember him.

Honestly, the least he could do now was make sure you were safe. He’s proud of you more than you’ll ever know. You’re thriving at university, paying for it all on your own.

But he also sees how exhausted you are. You’re always either locked in the library studying or tied down to your job just so you can pay for school. He sees how tired you are, and it hurts. You shouldn’t have to stress like that. Honestly, he wants nothing more than to save you from this life you’re chained to, take you back into his loving arms, and never let you get away from him again. He knows you’re more than sufficient to take care of yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. Not when he could provide for you.

And the sight of you being grabbed by the same asshole from earlier proves his point exactly. What would you do without him watching over you?

His jaw clenches beneath his mask. Peter’s quick to swing down from the rooftop and approach the two of you. He slowly creeps up from behind the grown man, and you’re quick to notice. There’s a silent pleading look on your face, as if quietly begging for help, and Peter’s heart just breaks. All he wants is to hold you and tell you everything’s gonna be okay.

There’s no time wasted before his fist is colliding with the other man’s jaw, a splatter of crimson red immediately spitting out of his mouth. A grunt of surprise and pain escapes from the man as he looks up, shocked at the sight of the masked hero suddenly before him. But there’s not a lot of time for him to linger on that thought before Peter has him pinned to the concrete, throwing punches to his face repeatedly, all while you stand from a considerable distance, silently watching.

~

So maybe some divine being had heard your silent prayer for someone to come save you.

But you hadn’t expected fucking Spiderman of all people. And you certainly hadn’t ever seen the masked hero this violent before. Not that you were complaining, the guy deserved it.

Though, you’re also aware that he’s moments away from killing this man, and— no matter how much this asshole deserved it— that wouldn’t exactly play out well for him. Watching the blood bath in front of you, and just how angry the web-slinger seems, honestly makes you think this is more personal if anything, as if it goes beyond defending you.

“Uh,” You awkwardly chirp up. “I think he’s got the message.”

He slowly stops throwing punches, hands still gripping at the now inaudible man’s collar, taking one last look at him before dropping him to the concrete. The masked man lets out an awkward cough before standing up to turn and face you.

“You alright Ma’am?”

You can’t help the quiet laugh escaping your lips. Watching the hero go from a hundred back to zero so quickly was humorous. You shake your head affirmatively at his concern.

“You just absolutely fucked him up, yeah Spiderman, I’m okay.”

He nods quietly, a moment of silence falling over you both before he speaks up again. “Can I— Do you need someone to walk you home?”

You wave your hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine, I know you have other duties to worry about. Besides, what are the chances of that happening twice?”

“I don’t mind,” The red-suited man insists as he approaches your side, matching the steps in your pace as you begin heading for your dorm. “It’s not safe for you to be walking alone by yourself at night, you know.”

“Yeah well, duty calls.” You shrug, silently trying not to freak out over the fact that the infamous city hero was just walking you back to your dorm like it was nothing. “Gotta make money somehow.”

The white peaks of his mask furrow at your statement. “So… How far do you live from here?” He asks as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

“It should only be about 10 more minutes,” You murmur. “Really, I can walk myself from here. I’m fine now. ” A twinge of guilt came over you, even though he was the one who insisted on walking you home.

“I know you’re fine. That’s not why I’m here.” He mumbles, walking a bit closer to you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Why are you here?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you realize how hostile it sounds. “Not that I’m not grateful. Thank you.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, and shakes his head. “Don’t need to thank me,” I’d do anything for you, he almost adds. “And I dunno, you looked terrified back there and I hated seeing you like that.”

That earns another eyebrow raise from you. “You talk like you personally know me.”

Even with the mask on, his flustered expression is more than obvious. Shit, does he know you? You really can’t think of anyone you know in your personal life that’d fit the whole hero role.

“Well I don’t— I don’t think I have to know you to feel bad for you and wanna make sure you’re okay.” He quickly defends.

“Oh, so you’re walking me home out of pity?” You tease.

“No!”

Regardless, you can’t help but giggle at his semantics. “You’re kind of awkward, you know? Being a superhero and all.”

He huffs a tiny breath through his nose, the closest thing you can see to a smile beneath the mask. “Yeah… ‘S a long-term condition.”

“Ah okay, I see.” You chuckle, humoring him a bit.

“So uh… You’re in university?” He asks, earning a nod from you. “What are you studying?”

Again, he asks like he doesn’t know the answer already. You’re majoring in psychology with a minor in criminology. He remembers how passionate you were about becoming a forensic psychologist back in high school—and he’s spent a fair amount of time watching you through the windows of your dorm, lingering behind you when you walked to class, and making sure you left the library safe whenever you’d stay there all night studying— to catch onto your path of study.

Still, he pretends as if he’s learning all this for the first time as you passionately speak about how much you want to go into this field.

“What about you, Spiderman? Are you in college?” You ask, slightly teasing him.

“What makes you think I’m college-aged?” He asks defensively, to which you narrow your eyes at him, as if the answer is obvious.

A small, breathy laugh escapes his lips as he shakes his head. “It’s complicated.” He says briefly, and his tone tells you that you probably shouldn’t push any further.

It’s comfortable silence between the two of you before you eventually slow your pace as you stop in front of your dormitory building.

“Well, this is me.” You mock salute at him, a small grin on your lips. “Thank you, again. For stepping in when you did.”

“Told you, don’t need to thank me,” He murmurs. “I’d do it again. Anytime.”

You nod softly. “I guess I’ll see you around?” You ask with a hopeful smile as you slowly turn to head inside.

There’s a warm and sinister grin on Peter’s lips, not that you could see it under the mask though.

“I’m sure you will.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢

second chapter finally finished!! im not gonna lie i honestly didn’t plan out this fic super well lol so if you guys have any suggestions for things i could add to this fic or things you would like to possibly see, please let me know!!

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU ~ I

IN WHICH you're barely scraping by as a waitress on minimum wage and Peter's tired of seeing his favorite girl work herself to exhaustion.

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: DUB-CON, dark!peter parker, stalking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, babytrapping.

series masterlist

A forced tight-lipped smile formed on your lips as you poured the steaming hot coffee into a mug, trying not to visibly grimace as one of your coffee shop regulars hit on you for the thousandth time this week. 

It wasn’t unusual for customers to flirt with baristas, but this guy was just so persistent. And as much as you wanted to throw the burning hot liquid on his face, you really needed this job and your manager wasn’t exactly the most empathetic person. Any complaints about customers harassing you were usually always met with, ‘the customer is always right.’ Not to mention the fact that this creep had to be old enough to be your dad. God, the thought had you nearing gagging in disgust.

“I’m sorry,” You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m just really focused on work right now.” Yeah, you’ve tried that excuse a number of times and every single time he dismissed you.

“I could take care of you, you know,” He says with a lazy grin, slowly getting up from his seat and leaning over the counter. “You wouldn’t have to work at a dump like this.”

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, deciding not to entertain this. You move to back up and grab one of your coworkers to finish this guy’s order. He grabs your wrist before you can do that though. Your eyes widen as you look up at the man, pure shock on your face as you look down at his deathly grip on your wrist.

“You think you’re too good for me, huh? You’re nothing—“

“Everything alright here?” An unfamiliar voice chimes up from behind him.

You both look behind to see a brunette around your age, standing behind the man with a threatening, yet warm grin. “He bothering you, babe?”

Once it registers to you that this guy is actually helping you out, a relieved sigh falls from your lips once the man drops your wrist. “Yeah, he is.”

“Bitch didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.” The older man mutters before storming out of the shop. You can’t help but roll your eyes at his tantrum before turning back to the boy in front of you. He’s watching you with a concerned expression, eyeing you up and down as if to confirm you’re okay. It honestly pisses you off how it took another man stepping in for this guy to finally leave you alone. But whatever, you’re appreciative of this guy looking out for you.

“Thanks for that.” You murmur gratefully as you give him a small smile. He nods with a sheepish grin.

“Don’t worry about it,” He shakes his head. “Could tell he was bothering you.” He replies, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You let out an amused scoff. “Tell me about it, the creep hasn’t left me alone for the past two weeks.”

The brunette furrows his brows with a sympathetic expression. “Two weeks? God, I’m sorry.” 

You wave a hand dismissively at his sentiment. “It’s nothing new around here.” You shrug before looking back at him, taking in his sharp features. “Are you new to the area? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

His lips tighten in what seems to be an uncomfortable grin. “Uh, yeah. I just moved here, thought I’d explore around you know?”

You hum in understanding as you study his face before giving him a warm grin. He’s cute. Really cute. With boyish features that still somehow looked so manly, and the warm grin that graced his lips. Sure, you were swamped with work and trying to pay for school, you really had no time for a relationship. But this guy was just too cute to let go. If anything, you’re just being friendly, right?  “Well, I’ve practically been here my whole life. If you ever need a tour guide, you know where to go.” 

He nods with an amused grin. “Is that so? Well, aren't I lucky to have run into you?” 

“Consider it a thank you for earlier.” You hum with a small smile.

A small chuckle escapes his lips as he extends his hand out to you. “I’m Peter by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Peter,” You giggle as you shake his hand, introducing yourself, before gesturing to the menu. “Can I get you anything?” There was long line of customers behind him, and you felt a little bad for skipping over them, but they’ll get over it, you’re sure.

His dark eyes scan the menu briefly before turning back to you with a small smirk. “I’ll take whatever's your favorite.”

“Well, maybe I’m biased, but our caramel lattes are to die for.” You hum as you begin the coffee machine, moving to grab a cup and the caramel drizzle. He doesn’t say much further, just intently watching you with a small grin.

Once you’re finally done with the coffee, you turn back to hand it over to him. “Made it extra special.” You tease with a chuckle as his fingers brush over yours to grab the cup.

Peter brings the cup to his lips, taking a long sip before shutting his eyes for dramatics. “God, that’s good,” He’s lying straight through his teeth, he hates caramel. But you put so much effort into it for him, he’ll suck it up for you. “I might just have to come over here more often then.”

“Maybe you should.” You grin before hearing your manager’s loud voice boom from across the counter, shutting your eyes in annoyance.

“(Y/N),” His stern voice calls. “Enough flirting and get back to taking orders.” The man roughly gestures to the line of customers waiting for orders to be taken.

You fight back a groan, wanting to protest. There’s two other baristas on the shift, surely one of them could take it. And you weren’t even talking to Peter that long. But you need this job, and you’re not about to put yourself in any position of losing it. You bite your lip and look back at your manager with a weak nod before turning back to Peter with an apologetic and flustered smile.

“Sorry,” You sigh. “Duty calls, I guess.”

Peter waves a hand in understanding. “I get it, sorry if I got you in trouble or anything—”

“No, that’s just how he is,” You groan in reference to your manager. “He’s not exactly the most understanding guy.”

The brunette nods, eyebrows slightly furrowed as you trudge off to take orders. How could anyone ever treat you so harshly? First the asshole from earlier, now your manager. You deserve so much more than what you’re given. He’s seen how persistently kind you are, even when you’re being treated like dirt. Even when you think your acts of kindness go unnoticed, he noticed. Even if you didn’t know it.

Don’t worry, he wants to reassure you. He’ll get you out of here soon enough and you’ll never have to worry about putting up with this bullshit in mere survival ever again.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢

I know the writing isn’t strong but it’s been a good minute since I’ve written any sort of fanfiction so bear with me lol but anyways I’m really excited for this series and hopefully you all love it too :)

[meetmeinverona]

RESCUE YOU

IN WHICH you're barely scraping by as a waitress on minimum wage and Peter's tired of seeing his favorite girl work herself to exhaustion.

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, dark!peter parker, stalking, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, babytrapping.

visualizer

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VII

VIII

more to be added!

[gabeana]

“You’re acting weird” I’m running on like 2 cups of coffee and an egg white bro cut me some slack

[emxyx]

[donyalelunaaslore]