Prompts:
#15 "How have you made it this long without someone throwing you out of an airlock or something?"

  #18 "In my defense, it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time."

  Warnings: Mentions of possible torture, violence (if you squint) and fluff.

  Blurb: You are taken to be used as bait for your boyfriend but instead of fighting to escape, you had a different approach.

  The night fell over the city, casting its cold shadow over the twinkling silhouettes. It was at this hour of night when you would be admiring the full moon and its majestic aura cast down upon the world below, but not tonight. Rather than seeing the night sky from the comfort of your own home, you were forced to simply see the shadows cast onto the floor of an unfamiliar building. Your wrists ache, the ropes confining you to the operating table beneath you dig into your skin. Your boy was horizontal and your arms were strung above your head.

A tall man disguised in all black attire stood at the foot of the table, his eyes on glued on the door. You could hear voices outside the door. Obviously this bonehead wasn't working alone. The man in all black begins to change positions. He walks towards the door and rests against the frame, simply staring at your still frame.

You shoot him an unimpressed look. "Can you speak, Mission Impossible?" you ask, quirking a brow.

He does not speak, but rather sends a blank stare in reply.

You shrug casually and lay back down. Time passes before you look at him once more. "Sign language?"

He continues to stare you down, clearly unimpressed.

His aggressive nature does not sway you, but rather spurs you to continue. "Look, I've never been into the morse code thing but I'm pretty sure a 10-minute mind-pulverising YouTube tutorial will have me a pro in no time."

"Do you ever shut up?" The man snarls.

You sit up suddenly, a surprised smile on your face. "He speaks!" You shout.

He rolls his eyes and averts your gaze, clearly unimpressed.

"Hey now, we are obviously going to be here a while, might as well make it somewhat memorable." You say, with a subtle grin.

"You're tied to a surgical table in an abandoned warehouse filled with trained criminals ready to torture you at any point, what part of this wouldn't be memorable?" The man states bluntly.

"You make a fair point, sir." You nod and rest your aching neck against the cold metal once more.

Not too long after you try again. "So, what do you say we get to know each other?"

The man once again returns to his stone cold glare. Your eyebrows remain raised in anticipation for him to somehow break free of his orders and at least participate.

"Alright, I'll start then," you clear your throat and shoot him a tight grin. "Hi, my name's Y/N, I'm 18, I live off of a diet that consists of ingredients that create diabetes in young adults and I don't floss as much as I should. Your turn."

Once again, your look of intrigue is met by a cold hard stare. Your head falls back onto the cold metal table with a loud clang. You look at him once more. "C'mon, dude."

Nothing.

You lay your head back again and let out a loud breath, quietly praying that Peter would find you soon. Ever since Peter told you about his secret Spiderman side, you had the feeling that this day would soon come. You weren't scared for yourself, but rather for the boy you had fallen in love with. You knew that someone would use his feelings against him one day, and you never wanted him to have to tear himself apart over someone hurting you because of him.

The door swung open, startling the guard causing him to straighten up. You let out a slight breath of amusement. A man in a suit walks in, his countenance hinting to his high position in the room.

"Good evening, sir," you smile widely, doing your best to sound welcoming. "I was just talking to your friend...he's a lil shy. Do you raise them to resemble brick walls or does that just come with years of mind-numbing torture training?"

"You're a talkative one aren't you?" The man admires.

"Well, something's telling me anything above the sound of crickets would be described as 'talkative' down here." You let out an amused breath. "Am I right?"

Both men look at you blankly.

"How have you made it this long without someone throwing you out of an airlock or something?" The man questions, looking at me with an unamused expression.

"Steel tight grip?" you chuckle nervously. Still nothing. You quirk a brow and draw in a breath. "Tough crowd."

You hear the tinkle of metal tapping metal which causes you to desperately try and find the source. The man in charge was contemplating a variety of torture devices as if carefully choosing an expensive watch to adorn his wrist. After picking up vicious tool after vicious tool, he ends up settling on a needle and a thick thread that resembled fishing line. You smirk slightly at the choice.

"I didn't peg you as the seamstress type, but hey, each to his own." You say dully as you lightly tug against the restraints to no avail.

"I thought since you love to talk, perhaps the first step should be to sew that pretty mouth of yours shut." The man whispers close to your ear, a menacing undertone shone through his quiet tone causing your body to shiver.

"Ha ha, that's funny." You chuckle, praying to God he wasn't serious. You look at his minion and jerk your head towards his psychopathic master. "Can you believe this guy? Absolute crack up!" You let out another string of strained laughter before losing all moisture in your mouth.

You gulp down the dry lump forming in your throat. "Oh, you're serious." You mumble.

You began to yank desperately at your restraints in any attempt to escape. "Anytime now, Mc-spidey tights." You yell as the man straps down your head.

"What did you think you'd do? Distract us until your boyfriend gets here?" The man snarls.

"In my defense, it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time." You shrug.

The man hovers over you, a maniacal smile adorning his wrinkled face. "Any last words, miss?"

You struggle against your restraints once more, racking your brain for something to stall him. "Actually I do. Did you know that Psalm 119 is the longest book in the Bible? And I know it off by heart, so you might want to get comfortable, this might take a while."

The man's eyes filled with rage as he clamped your head firmly into place and leant down to begin, his needle barely touching flesh.

"Wait!" You yell. "I change my final words."

"Oh for crying out-what!" The man yells.

"I wanted to change my answer to...'Ever consider a nose job?'" You say, with a smirk.

"Why do you ask that?" The man ask curiously, but still very unamused.

"Because you might want to after this."

A web locks around the man's wrist and spins him around to meet a bone-crushing fist to the nose. You wince loudly when you hear the sound fist splitting bone. "Yeah, that's gonna leave a mark."

Peter rushes to your side and scans your body for any signs of harm on you. His eyes lock on your lip. The red exterior hides beneath it a split lip that you had managed to get when you were first captured. A meagre battle wound as you would call it.

"Are you okay, baby, please tell me you're ok." Peter rambles as he cups your cheek, his eyes still roaming your body. "Dammit, this is all my fault."

"I'm fine, baby," you reassure him. "It's ok. I'm ok. You saved me!" You give him a gentle smile. "Wooo!" You imitate a quiet crowd cheering.

"They hurt you, Y/N, and I wasn't here to stop it!" He lowers his head, and curses himself lightly.

"Hey, hey, hey, you did everything you could. This old thing-" you motioned to your lip. "Will heal with an amazing scar and an even more amazing story to go with it. Think about the head lines I could get. Ooh! Perhaps even a movie deal! You think Emma Stone would play the part or too soon?"

"You're an absolute loon, but I love you, you know that right? And I would do anything, and I mean anything to keep you safe. Losing you would mean losing part of my everything. Because you are my everything, Y/N. You're literally the only thing that makes me want to keep going." Peter confesses, his hands on either side of my cheeks. "I don't even want to think of a future without you, Y/N. I love you...so much."

His face blurs slightly as tears prickle your nose and blur your vision, his words shattering your heart. You attempt to move your hand to touch him but were stopped by an all too familiar clink of restraints. You sniff back tears before addressing Peter. "A little help here, Pete."

"Oh, shoot, my bad." Peter effortlessly yanked of your restraints allowing you to finally embrace him.

"I love you too, Parker." You confess lovingly, holding him tightly.  He clings to young, not wanting to let go as if he fears you'll vanish the very second he does.

  You gently remove your head from the crook of his neck and rest your forehead against his. You slide your finger under his mask and tug it off. You are met with a set of tired hazel eyes. His lip is busted too, and his cheekbones are red and bruised. You gingerly brush his hair away from his face, careful to not disturb his broken skin. His body slumps into your touch, his eyes closing and his breathing slowing.
Your tip your head and press a feather light kiss to his cheek. His eyes meet yours. You send him a gentle smile and continue to run your fingers through his hair. His lips gently trace the raw skin on your wrists where the ropes cut in, gently kisses being laid upon the sensitive flesh. You smile at his simple yet heartfelt gesture.

The peaceful aura that surrounded the two of you was broken with the sound of Peter's voice.

"You know, fighting bad guys has left me with an overwhelming craving for ice cream." He mumbles out.

You chuckle down at him. "As long as there is sprinkles, I'm down."