All I Have // Peter Parker x Reader

You are a slut. Slutty Mc Slutterson. Okay so you were really just scolding yourself for having no god damn self-control. But what teenage girl could have self control around Peter Parker? You knew girls in your school who’d give up their prized possessions, their star athlete boyfriends for a chance to take a ride on him and his bike. His lips brush your jaw. Laundry soap and cologne envelop your senses, making it harder to focus as his, stained, scarred and calloused, hands slip around your hips. Pretty brown eyes glint with mischief in the afternoon light, a cocky smirk on his lips burns into your skin. He could toss you over his shoulder and run off with you, and you wouldn’t even beg to be put down. You were so slutty. “Peter.” You warn him. You should wiggle free, break his hold on you. But your body doesn’t listen, your hips stay trapped between his firm grip. “Darlin,” it rolls off his tongue like a prayer. It sends a shot of tingles down your body and the urge to push your knees together, is strong. “why are you lying to yourself and me?” He chuckles, the sound vibrates through your body. You swallow the groan that builds in your throat. Almost every day for the last two years, Peter would trap you between tattooed, muscled arms, ridged chest, and your car door. He trapped you and gave you no choice but to endure his unwanted, totally and completely wanted, advances. You both know, this wasn’t okay. You are unavailable to him. To his firm grip, dirty puns and teasing lips. His hands slip a little higher on your hips, before they dip into the opening on your short bib overalls, finding naked skin where your black tank top had ridden up. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth to keep from sighing at the rush of his skin on your own, but it doesn’t stop the wolfish grin from forming on his perfect lips. He is the big bad wolf. And you are the all too willing Red. He’s off limits, a hard no. But f**k did you want him. You should push him off, slap him hard across the face for being so forward. Tell your boyfriend that he’s too handsy with you. You really should be offended by his actions, that he thinks it’s okay to pin you between your car and his defined chest. But you never will, because your boyfriend is only your boyfriend cause your daddy said so. But the man, the bad boy, six feet, messy brown hair, tattooed skin, biker with a cocky attitude? Is who you think about when Jesse kisses you, when Jesse tries to coax you into bed with him. Not that you’re sleeping with either of them, no that would definitely make you slutty Mc Slutterson. “I’m not.” You swallow. “I have a boyfriend. You know that, Peter.” You remind him for the millionth time. “Bullshit.” Peter smirks. Tingles shoot into your belly again. “He’s no boyfriend, Darlin’. I’ve never seen you lean into his touch,” one hand leaves your waist, rough skin, curves around your jaw. Lighting your skin on fire with such a simple touch “like you do mine.” He watches you. Like a slap you realize you indeed are leaning into his hand. Fuck. You need to get control. “I’m not.” You straighten up. “Besides he’s a gentlemen, not some f**k boy who gets handsy with all the girls.” You retort, thinking this would get him to let you go. Nope. He’s grinning wider. “It’s so hot when that fire in you burns.” His hand moves from your jaw. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, you feel it tremble in the wake of his touch. “Just so you know I only get handsy,” both hands on your waist again, his grip tightens. It only excites you more “with you.” His warm breathe traveling over your ear. “Don’t lie to yourself or me.” You roll your eyes, tossing his words back at him. Peter chuckles, your body hums with excitement at the heat coming off him. “All you have to do is say yes, Darlin’. Get on my bike, and there will never be another rumor again.” He pulls back, running his teeth over his bottom lip. Lord help me. “No.” You clear your throat. “And keep your hands to yourself.” You c**k your brow at him. “You sure?” Peter smirks looking down. “You don’t really seem to want me too.” He grins. You glance down, your waist was pressed up against the tops of his thigh and hip. Fuck! “I have a boyfriend.” You snap your hips back against your car, away from his own alluring, magical hips. “You know you don’t want him, that’s why you’re practically convulsing under my touch.” He whispers, his hands move up on your naked sided. You could feel yourself tremble under the motion. “You’re so arrogant.” You give his chest a slightly push, it only gives you a centimeter more of space. “Only for you.” Peter flashes that cocky grin at you. “Y/N?” Your head snaps up, you quickly yank away from Peter. Turning to find Jesse, your boyfriend watching the two of you with a curious look from the sidewalk. Peter doesn’t let go though, he turns, pulling the backside of you against his front. His hands hard on your waist, you weren’t sure there would be finger bruises, but you wouldn’t complain if there was. “See,” Peter’s breathe tickles your ear in an exciting way “he just watches me, touching you.” His hands give you a tug against him, his lips brush over your ear, and down your neck. You swallow hard. “If you were mine, I’d break any guys jaw if they touched you.” He presses a kiss into the skin below your ear. “I have to go.” You croak out, pulling away from Peter, who lets you slip from his hands. “See you later, Darlin’.” Peter chuckles, winking at you before he backs up, walking away. Jesse watches Peter go, before he looks at you. “You work tonight?” He asks, leaning in kissing your cheek as you come to meet him on the sidewalk. “Yeah. I think I’m closing.” You nod. “See you tomorrow then?” He smiles. “Yeah. Of course.” You nod. Jesse nods, before he walks off. That was the thing, you weren’t really sure Jesse even cared about Peter, that he really cared the two of you were together. “Girl.” Your best friend Wanda looks at you as she joins you in front of your car. Her brows lifted, and she wore that same look she always had, when she found you and Peter together. “Shut up. Shut up.” You groan. “Lord.” Wanda laughs, getting into the passenger side as you grumble, getting in behind the wheel.