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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 days

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DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…

Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)

“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.

Peter Parker. Bullseye.

You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.

It was too close to yours for your liking.

“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.

“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”

“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.

For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.

Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.

“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.

“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.

You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.

You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.

“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”

He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.

—————————————————————————

It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.

The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.

Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?

Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).

Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.

You: I think you have the wrong number.

You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.

Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?

You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?

Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.

You: How did you even get my number anyways?

Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)

Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.

You: I’m sure.

Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?

You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.

Peter: You’ll regret that pips.

You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.

Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.

————————————————————————————

It was disappointment.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.

Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.

Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.

Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.

Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.

“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.

“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”

“Two papers and exam prep. You?”

“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.

He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.

“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.

“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.

Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.

Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.

You were so incredibly fucked.

———————————————————

You took a deep breath. Then another.

You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.

You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.

All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.

You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.

Fuck it.

You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.

You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.

How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.

“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.

“I was admiring the greenery.”

“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.

He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.

“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.

You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.

“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.

Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.

Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.

“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”

He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.

You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.

You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.

“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.

“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.

You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.

“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”

His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”

Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.

“Don’t start with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.

“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”

“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.

“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.

“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”

You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.

“Elaborate Parker.”

He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”

You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.

“Hmm. I like it.”

“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.

“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”

He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”

You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”

You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.

He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.

“You’re gross Parker.”

“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”

You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.

“Whatever you say pip.”

“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.

—————————————————————

A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.

Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.

“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.

“Some research paper. Here.”

You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.

Fuck.

He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.

He was still staring.

Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.

You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.

“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”

“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.

He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.

“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.

“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.

You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?

You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.

Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.

“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”

His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.

“How much more?”

His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.

Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.

Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.

You hated that you found it hot.

He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.

“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.

“I won’t. Will you?”

“I might.”

His smile grew.

“ I still hate you, you know.”

“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.

A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?

Because he was so fucking fine.

A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.

“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”

“Mhm. But you hate me.”

He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.

“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.

Yes. Yes, please.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.

Until he just… stopped.

Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?

“Parker?”

He smiled coyly.

“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.

“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”

“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.

Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.

“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.

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iridescentparkers · 2 days

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vanilla palm trees → one - be cool, peter parker

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ very angsty, mentions of death

a/n ⇢ for the sake of this, let's all just pretend that my tasm timeline is accurate! guys please let me know what you think <333 love this and you guys sm!!! like truly! like your feedback and suggestions will be highly encouraged and taken into account! THIS IS 18+ !!!!!

As he sat in his dimly lit room, listening to the dancing melodies of classical music, Peter Parker would never care to admit that his life was completely and utterly depressing.

When his best friend Harry would see him sulking, better yet wreaking of his dull life, Peter would say something along the lines of, ‘It’s not completely sad’ before failing to pinpoint the little amount of good he still had going for him.

‘God, what a sad kid.” Harry would joke, but Peter never once found it funny.

He swore up and down his life didn’t even suck that bad. Like, actually. He could look at the cityscapes in his apartment adjacent to his 80k-a-year institution. That was always a plus! Especially to drown out his roommate and girl..friend each weekend, forcing Peter to shove a pillow over his head to drown them out.

Alright, maybe it does suck. But.. just a little bit.

His roommate and Carmen were at it like rabbits…again. This time, Peter threw on his earbuds to drown out the uncomfortable noises pouring through the walls.

It wasn’t even 10PM yet. Harry had broken their rule. “Guests” were allowed between 10PM-12AM Fridays, and sleepovers could not go past 10 AM.

Peter muttered under his breath as he attempted to get more work done. The pounding and thudding of his wall let him know maybe it was time to take a break.

He reached over to grab and rested his camera on the pane of his foggy window, wiping condensation off as he found the perfect muse. Most Friday late nights, Peter watches out his window as people enter and leave differently from how they entered.

Whether they were drunk off of their ass, stumbling into a cab with the help of friends or others nearby, or even completely sober. Sometimes leaving is more than just a party of one.

All of his life, Peter was an observer. Peter always lingered on the sidelines wherever he went. He didn’t mind capturing the essence of everyone else. It taught him more about others and made him more aware of people's character. Although his friend seems like a douche, Harry is caring. He just has an odd way of showing it.

As he captured the picture of people passing on the city street, he heard the two next door begin to die down a bit. Harry was Peter’s best friend since kindergarten. He was always the boy next door, a star athlete, and always on the front lines, Peter’s direct opposite. It almost didn’t make sense, their friendship, but it worked. They both loved their dynamic and were always there for each other.

He had been there since the beginning (even before the campus fame got to his ego) and was there for the worst of it all. Especially 4 years ago. And to Harry, right now, there was nothing worse than watching his best friend sit alone in his new apartment on a youthful Friday evening.

With three sharp knocks, Harry entered Peter’s room with a sly grin creeping on his face, “All I’m saying is no senior in college with at least half a brain is studying on a Friday night. Especially right before Thanksgiving break.”

“Jesus, Harry. You couldn’t wait 2 hours to bring Carmen over?” Peter remarked after turning in his desk chair to face Harry.

“Sorry, Parker, she has an early morning. She’s gone now,” he apologized, buttoning his shirt and shaking his arms to lower his dress shirt sleeves. “But you don’t. Let’s go out, you and me, what do you say?”

Letting out a deep huff, Peter lowered his camera and turned around in his chair, “Should you be going out considering you almost lost your academic scholarship from partying your ass off all of last year?”

“Considering what’s coming up, I’m going to ignore the ass-hole territory dig you just took at me,” Harry remarked. “And would you drop the whole grumpy act for once? Have fun with me tonight, please?”

“Your definition of fun is not my definition of fun.”

“Pfft,” he scoffs. “How so?”

Peter narrows his lids, “Getting high in the back of your car and hooking up with the closest girl within reach is not my definition of fun.”

“It can be,” he smirks, leaning further against Peter’s bedroom door frame. “Halloween was amazing.”

“No, Harry,” Peter insists before pushing his reading glasses further on his face and turning his chair again towards his desk.

“I know what this is, Parker,” he insists, inching closer to Peter and taking a seat on his bed before forcefully turning Peter towards him in his chair. Peter catches himself from the spin, readjusting himself in his seated position, “You need to get laid-”

“No.”

“Yes, y'know-”

“Harry!”

“...that is why that stick is wedged so far up your ass-”

“Absolutely not-”

“You need a beautiful woman to come over tonight and pull it out, ease you up a little bit.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He asked, walking over to place a hand on Peter’s back and turning his chair around to face the bar across the street. “Have you been over there since you moved in?”

Peter watched as he pointed to the photos dangling by a singular pushpin on his corkboard, “Maybe it's time you stop taking so many creepy photos and get in there, get your groove back!”

Harry moved his hips to an imaginary rhythm, feeling the beat of the bar washing over him in the moment, “That was the most ridiculous thing you could have ever done. Now I am for sure staying right here.”

“You're telling me you don’t get lonely here, by yourself?”

“Not one bit.”

“Your bed doesn’t ever get cold at night? Wouldn’t it be nice just to feel a set of lovely breasts nuzzled atop-” He soothed cupping his hands and placing them close to his face.

“Harry, Enough!”

“Sorry Parker, didn’t mean to hit a nerve.” Harry apologized walking towards his window and glancing down at the business below, horns and lights accessorizing the city streets. “What are you going to do for the rest of the weekend? Besides,”

“Study.”

“Study.” Harry snarked, as they commented in unison, Peter grinning as Harry rolled his eyes at his response,” Figures.”

Peter picked up his pencil and wrote more notes on his homework, “Come on Peter, don’t be a pain and just join me. One night? Please, that's all I ask.”

He cut his eyes at Harry, glaring at him at him, only for Harry to pretend to beg, squeezing his palms together as he mouthed dramatic pleas.

“Fine,” Peter gave in. “It has been a while.”

Harry did a small cheer before moving to his bedroom, “I’m going to get ready.”

“Did all of your other friends have plans?”

“Maybe. But that’s not important right now!” Harry shouted as he ran into his bedroom and shut the door.

‘It was too much’ was all Peter could think, walking along the sidewalk as streetlights blinded him alongside his friend. The two passed through gushes of smoke from the burning cigarettes and crowds of strangers on the city street.

Peter and Harry found their way to Alonzo’s, their neighborhood bar. The bar is dim and secluded by the brick and little surrounding the building. The name was familiar to Peter. The girl whose family owns the place was in Peter’s physics class…and Harry’s bed.

“Do you have to have sex with all of Manhattan?” Peter murmured, “Do you know if she feels comfortable with us being here?”

“It was so long ago she probably won't even recognize me,” Harry assured as the two approached the front door. “And, sleeping with ‘all of Manhattan’ does help to get free drinks now and then.”

Peter stopped, placing his hands in his pockets as he glanced narrowly toward Harry, “That’s why you slept with her?”

“Slow your roll, Parker. I didn’t know she owned the place until after the fact.” Harry assured as the two entered. “And…she doesn’t own it…her dad does.” He stated so ‘as matter a of fact.’

The place was college kid-infested, with students from all over the city. The loud chatter and music would beat in Peter’s chest as he moved around the room and settled on two stools at a table on the other side of the square bar, squeezing past loads of unhinged college chatter and young, tipsy adults.

With his shoes now sticky, Peter huffed as he sat, slowly regretting his choice to come out with his friend. Harry moved to the bar, shuffling past the kids surrounding it.

“Two beers, please,” Harry requested to the woman behind the bar as he settled in his seat, the bartender not moving an inch.

“Ma’am, can we please get two beers?”

“Would you give me a sec, we have a full house this evening-”

The woman turned and stopped mid-sentence as she looked down at Harry. The v-neck clung to her body and was paired with a black apron and casual flair jeans. Her hair was clawed back with a brown clip, overflowing with dark brown curls. Her protruding brown eyes met his, narrowing as anger instilled within her tall stance.

“You.”

“Me,” Harry smirked, adjusting the front of his hair into place as he leaned further in his standing position.

“Harry, right?

“Right,” he smiled, twisting his head to the side, raking his eyes up and down along her curvature.

“Two beers, on the house.”

“Thanks, umm-” he told her, his mouth gaping at the woman. She smiled at him, clicking the pen in her hand before simultaneously dropping it with her smile.

“You forgot my name.” She angered, curving angry lines along with her new frown along her face.

“No, it’s uh- Give me a moment-”

“Alexis.” she interrupted. I’ll add those to your tab.”

The two sat and drank beer, after beer, and threw back a couple of shots, the burning sensation still sitting even though Peter was not a tequila virgin. He now found himself alone, trying to pace himself and put some solids in his system.

“Do you ever wonder why he would risk his life? All those years, every waking minute of every day,” the bartender had asked Peter, who was now seated at the bar.

“Who, Spider-Man?” Peter slurred, biting a french fry. “All the damn time."

"Why do I do it? No clue. Why does anyone do it?” He murmured to himself, swirling the remnants of alcohol in his beer bottle.

The bartender quirked her right brown and continued counting the cash in the drawer. As she looked down, a woman approached the bar, a couple of seats to Peter’s right. The woman then turned her body, leaving an arm on the side of the bar.

Booooy was he drunk. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, her skin glistening under the bar lighting. It could have been the drunk goggles, but it didn’t matter. He needed to talk to her.

The woman pursed her lips, swallowing the remaining liquid from her glass. Peter watched them as she finished the drink. Her speech slurred like Peters, but her eyes were hooked on the bar screen, watching as Spider-Man swung himself from building to building.

She leaned more over the bar, settling in her hips as she stirred the straw in her glass. As she moved, the clunky jewelry on her wrists and around her neck moved with her. The woman was wearing jeans that hung low on her hips, decorated with flowers along the curve of her ass with pops of reds, purples, and blues. The red tank she wore clung to her skin as she adjusted her stance, matching the flower clip on her head.

It was time for him to leave, but maybe Harry was right. It's time to get over Gwen. It's been so long, how could he still be so...single?

Harry had wandered off with some of his football buddies about an hour ago, and now Peter was alone near this beautiful, mysterious woman.

Maybe it wasn't time to head home. Not yet.

Peter chewed the inside of his lip as he turned away from the repetitive clips playing on the local news channel. He leaned his arm on the side of the bar, mirroring the stance of the woman in front of him. She narrowed her eyelids,

“Hmm,” she hummed, stirring around the straw in her empty drink and looking at the bartender. “I don’t.”

The woman glanced over at the opposite end of the bar, “You have been staring for a long time. Are you just going to stand there, or buy me a drink?”

He took in the woman in front of him. Her subtly yet sweet scent, how her hair fell in front of her face, and even how, “You're engaged.”

“I’m not. Trust me,” she remarked, pulling the diamond off her ring finger. It would have alarmed sober Peter, but drunk Peter did not care.

He held eye contact with the woman, “I’m not even supposed to be here right now. I should be at home.”

“So why are you here, then?” The woman asked, inching closer to Peter as she placed a hand on his lower arm. Peter looked down and then back up at the woman, leaning in close to whisper in her ear.

“See my friend over there at the other end of the bar? He dragged me out to this bar, begging me to bring someone home tonight instead of moping around at home. And that’s why I came over to you. I don’t want to disappoint.”

“Disappoint? Excuse me?” She asked, turning her body as her brows dipped inwards on her face and anger curled upon her lips.

“No sorry- not like that,” Peter assured, throwing his hands up in worry. “Sorry, I- I am truly, sorry. That is not at all what I meant. It's been a while since I have done this."

"You saw what I was wearing on my finger, I'm not exactly true to this either." She laughed, and Peter then joined her. "You want to show me exactly what you meant?”

Peter grabbed the woman’s cheek, pulling her into him as the two melded into one. The hot and stickiness from the college bar air dissipated as he pulled her closer. The woman fell from the barstool and moved her hands behind his neck, taking more control of the kiss. Peter moved his other hand just above her waist before pulling her away.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he commented leaving his hand on her hip. “Probably the most beautiful woman here. What if, we got out of here?”

The woman smiled, placing a 20 down on the bar, “I’ll get my coat.”

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