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angelyuji · 11 months

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peeping peter

yandere!peter parker x reader

peter decides that he's had enough waiting :)

tw // kidnapping, non-consensual picture taking, stalking, shitty friend activties, peter is a perv!

dark content ahead! 18+

“peter! hey!” you rush over, pushing past the many fast-paced new yorkers.

“(y/n)!” peter perks up, holding two coffees and a camera slung around his shoulder. the weather was frosty, people were preparing for an awful winter storm over the weekend, and you had promised to meet peter for coffee after work.

“ahh, oh my gosh, thank you so much.” you almost moan as the coffee warms you up.

“you took your time getting here,” he laughs, he takes his camera out to take pictures of bystanders before turning it to you. “pose, please.” you freeze, coffee cup against your mouth. “perfect.” he looks at it for a couple seconds before turning it to you.

you smile, “peter parker, you are the only one capable of taking good pictures of me.” he shrugs, but you see the embarrassment creep up his face. you walk together, catching each other up. both of you end up walking through a park. aside from the quiet clicking of peter’s camera and the chirps of the birds, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. soon you’re both in front of your apartment.

“thanks for coming, (y/n).” he smiles.

“it was nice catching up with you, pete.” you hug peter and he blushes again. “we should do this again sometime, once work settles down.” you smile.

“i’ll-i’ll send you the pictures later.” he turns away, putting his camera in his bag. you bite your cheek, stopping your laugh. the both of you part and the rest of your day progresses as normal.

at night, you’re awoken by a sound. something like clicking.

“it’s probably just some dumb kids.” you assure yourself, rolling over. your eyes close, but you sit up after hearing the clicks once more. you sit up, annoyed. you look towards your window, contemplating yelling at whoever’s on the roof, but see someone standing there. your eyes go wide, your breathing stops. their hands press against the glass of the window. the room turns cold and you can’t move. their hands start to, carefully slide open the window. right then, your body turns back on and you jump out of bed, sprinting to the door. you hear the window slam open and you start screaming. you get to the front door and unlock the deadbolts, but before you could open it. a hand slams against the door, cornering you. you face the door, shaking, too afraid to face the trespasser. their arms cage you against the door.

“(y/n).” the hairs on your neck stands as you hear the voice. “do you know who i am?” his voice was dark, almost teasing. you turn, careful not to brush against the arms trapping you.

“spiderman?” you recognize the masked man. you let out a breath, slumping against the door. “spiderman, oh my gosh, i thought you were some pervert.” you laugh nervously, ignoring the fact that the hero broke into your home after watching you from your window. he doesn’t respond, only using a hand to stroke your cheek. you frown, weirded out. “spiderman?”

“i love you.” your blood runs cold. you swallow.

“what- what are you talking about?’ spiderman chuckles. your body feels numb.

“i’ve loved you for so long, but i was going to keep it inside you know?” you try to move his arms, but he wouldn’t budge. “but, i don’t think i can hold back anymore.” you feel your throat close up, as your situation sets in. “the pictures aren’t enough for me anymore.” he shakes his head.

“p-pictures?” you respond, meekly. he wraps a hand around your throat and slams you against your door, you feel the wind get knocked out of you. you start screaming, praying someone will hear, scratching and kicking wherever you can. spiderman doesn’t seem fazed by your panic.

he shushes you, “don’t worry, (y/n), you’ll be okay. just give in.” his hand around your throat tightens. your vision goes dark as you start losing air. you’re fighting your body as it tries to give up. his grip tightens once more and you pass out.

when you wake up, your hands strapped to a bed. you try to look down and see that you’re wearing the same t-shirt and shorts you had slept in. sunlight streams in and you recognize the posters and clothing.

“peter?” you rasp, your throat sore. you start to remember everything that had happened before you lost consciousness. you close your eyes as tears start to well up.

“you’re awake!” you open your eyes and peter’s bright smile enters your view. “i didn’t know when you’d wake up… i was worried i had…” he looks away. “but everything’s fine.” he smiles and crouches down next to you. he places a glass of water on the nightstand next to you.

“peter… you’re spiderman?” you choke out. he jumps up and helps you sit up, loosening the straps a little. he places the glass to your lips and you, gladly drink, spilling water on your t-shirt. he pulls the glass away once you had finished. you clear your throat. “why did you fucking KID-” peter claps a hand over your mouth.

“i’m not hurting you, (y/n), i love you!” peter pleads, but you only feel disgust. you most show it on your face, because peter stands, hurt. “i’ll show you. i’ll show you how much i love you.” peter goes to the desk at the corner of the room and digs through his dresser. he pulls out a thick binder. he drops it onto your lap and signals you to move. you’re forced to shimmy to the side and he sits beside you, pressing himself to your side. he opens the binder and your eyes go wide. all of the pictures were of you. “i’ve known you were the one since the moment we met. i saved every picture i’ve taken of you.” he smiles, laughing slightly. you look over at him, horrified. “look, these are the ones i took of you the day we met.” you look and realize that these are ones he’s taken of you at the park, but farther down were pictures of you in your home. he flips through and you see glimpses of pictures of you sleeping, getting dressed, taking a shower. you feel bile rise up your throat.

“how could you, peter?” tears are running down your face, “we were friends, how could you DO THIS TO ME.” you scream and peter slams the binder closed. you start screaming again, hoping his neighbors would hear, but peter stares at you. he gets up, shaking his head.

unimpressed, he rolls his eyes, “no one will hear you, (y/n), stop your tantrum.” you sob and peter sighs. he grabs his binder and puts it back on his nightstand. “i’ll be back later to give you something to eat.” he opens the door, but pauses, “by the way, you don’t have to worry about working anymore.” he smiles and shuts the door. you scream, sobbing. you can feel yourself get nauseous once more and you turn to the edge. you throw up, sobbing. you fall back, struggling against the binds. you give up once everything starts to hurt and cry yourself to sleep.

you’re woken up by peter picking you up. “silly girl, crying so hard you throw up.” he quietly chuckles. you keep your eyes closed, making a plan that once the door is open, you could startle him and escape. you smell the vomit on your shirt.

when peter opens the door, he whispers to you, “i know you’re awake, baby, don’t try anything stupid.” you open your eyes, and he laughs. “i’m spiderman, (y/n). i know how your heartbeat sounds when you’re sleeping.” you look away, scanning the home, you see the front door right next to the kitchen. he takes you into the bathroom. he puts you down onto your feet. “feel free to leave your clothes at the door, i won’t come in when you’re showering. i’ll replace the old clothes with some new ones.” he closes the door behind him, leaving you alone. you wait a couple of minutes before peeking outside, you see peter in the kitchen. he looks up and waves to you, smiling. you slam the door closed, panicking.

‘spiderman…peter is…spiderman.’ you feel the waves of nausea come back. “i’m fucked.” you mutter to yourself. you can’t talk, breathe, or fucking piss without peter knowing. you want to throw up, scream, and sob all at the same time. you splash yourself with water from the sink and slap your cheeks with your hands. ‘get it together, (y/n). you gotta get out.’ you shake your head and strip down. you carefully open the door to toss your clothes out the door. you quickly close the door again and lock it. you shower quickly, not wanting to be naked and vulnerable for long. but as you were finishing up, you recognized the hair and skin products lined up on the sink. you feel your knees buckle and hold yourself steady on the counter. peter had been watching you for a long time, every single product in the bathroom were the exact products you used. every time you start to dissociate from your situation, you’re brought back to reality. you close your eyes tight, fighting back your tears. ‘i have to get out. there’s no point in crying.’ peter knocks on the door, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“your new clothes are out here, okay, (y/n)?” peter doesn’t say anything more as he walks away. you peek your head out and snatch up the clothes before he turns to look at you. he gave you a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

“what the hell?” you wipe your eyes, confused. you open the door and call out for him. “peter? w-where’s the rest?”

“rest? rest of what? i gave you my shorts and one of my t-shirts.” he tilts his head, similar to a puppy. you bite back your disdain.

“like a bra, or some underwear, i don’t know.” you press your lips together.

“ah,” he pouts, “i’m sorry, (y/n), i didn’t think to grab your underwear. i have a couple around here, but they have to be washed.” he smiles. ‘oh my god, he’s fucking crazy.’ your eyebrows raise, but you don’t say anything. you close the door and pull on peter’s clothing. you still feel vulnerable with the clothes on, you can smell peter on you. you brush your hair with your fingers, thinking about what to do next. ‘he won’t let me leave now, but if i go along with everything, with his insane delusions. he’ll trust me. with his trust, i’ll be more able to escape.’ you hum, realizing what you’ll have to do. you open the door, uncomfortable in your new clothes. peter brightens when he sees you. “you look beautiful!” he looks at you with adoration, but your skin prickles at his leering. you don’t say anything, only sitting down at the table near his kitchen. he places a plate down and fills it up with food. “i made this for you. it took me a couple tries to get the recipe right, but i think it’s perfect now.” he pushes a fork towards you. you pick it up and start eating, much to your dismay, it tasted good.

you swallow and clear your throat, “it’s- it’s good.” you force a smile on your face. he sighs, seeming relieved.

“good, good. i’ll make this more often for you.” he sits down across from you, stretching his legs out to knock against yours. you force yourself to not move. after a few minutes of silence, peter decides to talk, “are you feeling better?”

you pause, “yeah-yes, i’m feeling a lot better. i’m-i’m thinking more clearly too.” you look up at him, peter’s mouth twists into a smile. you put your fork down. “i-um. i’ve thought a lot about your confession.” he straightens, hearing your tone. peter stays silent, waiting for you to continue. “can you… can you show me the pictures again?” peter presses his lips together, fighting back a grin. he immediately jumps up and runs to the bedroom. you look to the front door, maybe 30 feet away from you. you hold back, knowing better than running from spiderman so soon. you resolve to wait until he trusts you enough to leave you alone in the apartment. peter comes back, “here.” he places it down. you watch peter as you open the binder. you barely register the pictures, focused on keeping a neutral face.

“it’s… nice.” you spit out. peter smiles, softly, oblivious to your blatant lies.

“you like the pictures now?” he shines.

“ye-yeah! i’m very…flattered. i’ve never had someone be so… devoted to me.” you force another smile. “i’m just s-so happy that you’ve finally told me.”

“i’m so glad you’ve come around, (y/n).” he gets up and gets you up. your eyes go wide.

“peter, wait-” peter picks you by the waist and plops you down on the table. you wince as your butt hits the table. “peter, w-what are you doing?” he cups your face in his hands.

“you love me? you really, truly mean it?” peter comes up close to you, your noses almost touching.

“i didn’t-” you stop, seeing his face drop, and he moves away. ‘fuck. i need to do something.’ quickly thinking, you grab him by the face and pull him back. “i love you, peter. every picture, every dirty thought you’ve ever had of me,” you lean in close to his ear to whisper, “turns me on.” you pull away, feeling disgusted with yourself. you feel tears streaming down you face, but peter seems to pay no mind. he swallows, one of his arms drop from your waist to your thighs. fear itches your skin as goosebumps rise all over your skin. you fight the urge to push peter away as his hand trail to your inner thigh.

“i love you, my angel.” he rests his head in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses along your shoulder. “i’ll keep you safe, sweetheart. i-i’ve had a lot of regrets, things i wish i could’ve changed. but with you, things will change. i will keep you safe.”

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