The One You Trust (YB Peter x Reader)

Chapter 14

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He paced around the kitchen, flipping over the table he kept so very clean for you. Had he not woken to the door squeaking open, you would've been gone. He let out an angry grunt as he continued walking around, desperately trying to keep himself upstairs so he didn't go down and scream at you. Clearly you were still afraid of him, or angry, or... something. You'd tried to leave, and almost succeeded.

To be fair, it was partially his fault. He supposed he should've locked the door when he'd gotten home, and judging by the fact that the whole reason you were here in the first place was because he hadn't locked a door, he should've expected this. But you had lied to him. You fucking lied. You told him you loved him, and would never leave him... and yet...

"Fuck..." He choked, suddenly aware of the tears on his cheeks.

He knelt on the ground, staring at his hands as he sobbed. Why would you love him? He was a murderer. He kidnapped you. You weren't here because you wanted to be, this was because he wanted you to be here. It was for your protection, though. He... it...

He was a monster, but there was no other way to protect you. You deserved the world, and no one else gave you the comfort you deserved. And if he didn't either, so be it. He wasn't going to hurt you. He wasn't the one yelling at you to speed up orders, or forcing you to work even on bad days. He wasn't the one using your kindness against you for a room in an apartment.

He was your protector.

He was saving you.

You'd realize that at some point... right?

Right?

Right.

"Stop crying," he muttered, "stand up, and breathe. They're okay. They're still here."

He repeated those last five words until the beating of his heart stopped feeling like it would burst out of his chest, and finished with one more deep breath. Wiping the tears from his face, he opened the basement door, and descended the stairs. You were back on the mattress, hands tied behind your back, and a gag in your mouth. He was too angry to deal with your tsunami of insults, so he took the ball gag he'd bought specifically for you and used it.

He didn't want to, but this was better for the both of you. He had enough control to not hurt you, but he wasn't sure if he could stop himself from yelling. He never wanted to yell. Yelling was scary, even to him. And you? With your anxiety? You'd never see him as what he truly was again.

"It doesn't matter if you love me, (Y/N)." He started, shakily exhaling the words. "But please understand that I'm protecting you. I love you with everything I have, but for you to pull shit like this while my guards down? That hurts. A lot. Make this easier on us both, and just let me do my job. Please?"

Your eyes were lit with anger. Your body trembling with just as much anxiety as anger. The audacity of this man to ask you to accept being here. Yet, your heart still hurt at his tone, still ached at the marks the tears left when he cried, and the fact that he thought you didn't love him.

You loved a version of him.

You loved the Peter that stayed by your side after a panic attack. You loved him for going on a walk with you. You loved him for helping you through grief, and offering you a place to be outside of your apartment. You loved that Peter. You loved YB.

This Peter? This was not your Peter. This was not the man you'd known or loved. You weren't sure if you could even love whoever this person was.

He removed the gag and waited a couple of seconds for you to speak, only to be met with silence. He sighed, "fine. I'll be back later to bring you food again. I'll change the bandage on your hand too."

Go to hell, your mind screamed. You were too terrified to speak. Too afraid to move.

You didn't want to be in this fucking basement any longer. You didn't want to be in this house any longer. Your one chance of escape was gone, and now you were back to square one.

Lying wasn't going to be as easy as it used to be.

Not with his guard as high as it was at least. It going back down would take double the time it did the first round.

You were completely fucked now.

All because of a squeaky door.