All I Have // Peter Parker x Reader

Part Three

Aunt May asked him to pull some of the big boxes off the top shelves in the back.

“Damn girls are going to slip and break a neck, I keep asking them to climb on the shelves.” She tsks, shaking her head.

“I’ll handle it.” He chuckles, heading for the back.

He pulls down a box, glancing over to make sure none of the girls were there. He steps off the step ladder, finding Y/N tightening her ponytail and checking the pale pink lipstick she wore for work, in the little mirror Aunt May had uncle Ben put up. He smirks, quickly setting the box down, moving towards her. His arms wrap around her, she jumps, turning around, looking up at him.

“Peter.” She huffs, annoyed with him startling her.

He grins, she hasn’t the slightest clue what she does to him.

“You have no idea how stunning you are, Darlin’.” His eyes run over her face. She doesn’t cake on makeup, it's soft and subtle. Her cheeks pink in the slightest way, he's sure the so-called boyfriend of hers didn’t compliment her. Sure as hell her drunk daddy didn’t either.

“I have a boyfriend.” She repeats.

It's a game they played. He touches her in the ways he could without the yes, giving her affection she doesn’t know is only the tip of the iceberg, while she repeats she has a boyfriend. She uses the line like it's a shield she could hide behind, that it will keep her from his advances. She has no idea he's the one willing to save her.

He sighs, backing her into the wall, his hands gripping her waist. He leans in closer, not touching her outside her covered hips. He could play this game, he knows her secret. He knows she wants him just like he wants her.

“Let me know when that pathetic excuse for a boy isn’t up to your standards.” His voice soft against her skin, he's close to ear, but still able to see her facial expressions. “You have my number. I know you do.” He smirks, as she swallows hard. “I know little red slipped it into your phone. I know cause I made sure you got it.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I know you call it.” His hushed voice for her to hear only. Keeping their secret between them. “Late at night. I know you hang up before I answer." Her eyes widen, she doesn’t know he put it together, or that he has her number himself. “In those three rings, I know it’s you. I can feel it’s you on the other end.” His hands squeeze her waist for emphasis.

“I live for those three rings. Every night.” He brushes his nose along her jaw, he feels her shiver under his hands. “There will be a day I get a fourth ring, I can feel it. Aren’t you curious why you’re so drawn to me? Why I can’t get enough of you?” Her mouth falls slack as she mauls it over. “That’s not normal, Darlin’. That’s the special connection between us.” He smirks.

“Don’t you see it?” Her eyes move up, focusing on his face. “You know you want to take a ride with me. I know it. You know it. f**k, your dimwit boyfriend knows it.” He smirks at her. “You saw him today, I had my hands on you,” he gives her waist a squeeze again “my lips on you,” he dips his head and brushes his lips across the skin just below her ear, she swallows, holding her breathe “and that p***y ass b***h just watched.” He shakes his head.

Her lips move as if she was going to say something, but nothing comes out.

“Remember this Darlin’,” his hand moves, cupping her chin. Tipping her head back so she looks up at him “once you’re mine, you’re mine for good. I’ve had dibs on you for the last two years.” He nods, she swallows, before clearing her throat.

“My, my breaks over.” Her voice ragged and breathless as she blinks up at him.

“I’ll see you around, Darlin’.” He smirks, slowly pulling his hands from her. “Sleep tight. I know you’ll be dreaming of me. I’ll be dreaming of you.” He winks stepping back, he turns heading back to the task he’d been assigned by his aunt.

“Oh.” He heard her faint voice, before she adjusted her apron and scurried back out into the diner.

You shut the door behind you, flipping the lock. It felt more like you were locking yourself in your own cage. You weren’t protecting yourself from anyone, no you were trapping yourself in, with your own personal nightmare. You step into the hall, finding your daddy sitting in his chair in the living room, looking more ready to pass out, less ready for bed.

“Little girl.” He looks up from the TV with whiskey heavy eyes.

“Daddy.” You smile at him.

You walk on eggshells 24/7, or you face the wrath of your father.

“How was school?” He nods slowly.

“Good. My grades are so good, I might not have to take finals.” You nod, hoping this pleases him.

“Good. That’s my smart little girl.” He seems pleased with your news. “How was work?” He glances over at your uniform dress.

“Fine. Busy.” You shrug.

Fine.

Busy.

Hotter then the devils own personal sauna, with Peter Parker watching your every move and pinning you against the wall in the back room.

No you weren’t very smart, you wanted to hop on the back of Peter’s bike and never look back. No, that made you very stupid.

“Still dating that boy?” Your daddy interrupts your thoughts.

“Yes.” You nod.

It pleases your father, you're promised to a wholesome family, with a champion bloodline. It makes you feel like a f*****g puppy, up for breeding auction.

“Good. He’s a good boy, from a good family.” He smirks.

“I know.” You nod, this is your life. You nod and agree to whatever your father asks of you. It's better than wrath, for stepping out of line.

“He good to you?” Your father looks over.

“Yes. He’s good to me.” You reply smoothly.

“Good. Stay good. Stay away from trouble.” He nods, looking away from you.

“I know. I will.” You repeat the same thing you always say when this same conversation comes up.

“Goodnight, little girl.” He was already drooping off in his chair.

“Night, daddy.” You head up the stairs quickly.

You get ready for bed, locking your door and slip into your sheets. Burying yourself deep, as you pull your phone out, the one your father didn’t know you had. You paid the bill online and everything was sent to Wanda’s house. You sigh, before pressing his number, putting the phone to your ear.

One ring. Nerves flood your body.

Two rings. Your mouth goes dry.

Three rings. You hang up.

“Maybe tomorrow.” You whisper to your phone as you lock it.