Thin Ice - Tumblr Posts
Symbol of fatality (2019)
I, too, have suffered from molten embarrassment so I like your choice of words there....
I'm identifying with Reader more and more as a quiet corner is a fave spot at parties.
Poor Peter, he's trying to get to know her, but she's putting up walls. Question is, does he have no-go areas too? Two people trying to figure each other out, although right now Reader is fighting it pretty hard. Curious reader here is going to have to wait for part four I can tell....
Thanks for the update!
thin ice — three
part one | part two | part three
summary — the lightning bolts have made it to the semi-finals, and parties are the best way to celebrate. they’re also the best place to run into familiar faces.
pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader
disclaimers — sadly, i don’t own peter parker and his yummy face
warnings — this isn’t your first rodeo: this shit is unedited, mentions of drinking/being drunk, possible ooc, reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (finally gets explained in this part!)
Death was approaching, she could feel it. The sickening, deadly vibrations of the music thundered in her ears like a funeral march. Maybe if she’d grown a spine, she would have avoided this all.
“We’re not even inside yet.”
MJ’s voice broke her from the trance she was stuck in. The Lightning Bolts had made it into the semi-finals, meaning they were one of the last four teams standing. Delta Alpha Kappa, home of half the hockey team, decided to throw their (nearly) weekly rager in honor of that. So, of course, Harry invited MJ, and MJ forced her very unwilling roommate to come.
“Being near the door is scary enough.” Her voice squeaked.
“I didn’t realize you hated parties this much,” MJ giggled, stuffing her hands into her jacket.
“There’s a difference between parties and frat parties,” she responded with a shudder, “You can probably get thirty-five different diseases from just walking inside.”
“I’ll nurse you back to health.”
Before a retort could be made, they were already hopping up the steps to the front door. There were some people outside the house, littering the grass and porch. At the door was a guy with a grey snapback. He smiled at them as he opened the door, throwing out a ‘hey, ladies’ as he let them in. He was harmless and hadn’t done anything wrong, but she already felt herself getting faintly annoyed at his grin.
The inside of the house was to be expected. Dull neon lights streaking the walls from the Five Below LED machines, unintelligently music rippling through the air and vibrating the floors, the hazy smell of weed that hung heavier the further you moved into the house. There was an open room people were dancing in on the left, a kitchen on the right, and stairs ahead of them.
“We don’t have to stay here all night, right?” She pleaded with MJ, her voice somewhat lost in the loud music.
“Of course not,” MJ shook her head, “An hour—two tops.”
“And you’re not leaving me,” she said, punctuating her words by grabbing ahold of MJ’s arm. A chuckle bubbled in the redhead’s throat as she returned the grip, though, with less fervor.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she shook her head.
Apparently, she would dream of it, because within a half an hour, MJ was swept away by Harry. It wasn’t MJ’s intention to leave, nor was it Harry’s to strand Kitty—he’d hoisted her over his shoulder and was gone within seconds. MJ had sent her an apology text minutes later, saying they were playing beer pong out on the patio. Part of her wanted to join them so that she wasn’t so alone in an unfamiliar place, but then a couch had just opened up in a deserted corner of the living room. She replied with ‘all good :).’ Things were very much not all good.
The settings of her phone had become extremely interesting. She’d increased and decreased the size of the text on her screen multiple times. Changed her wallpaper. Played with the magnifier. Ran out of lives on Project Makeover. Changed her wallpaper again. The obnoxious music faded to the background of her mind as she tucked herself away. She should’ve just gone to the patio with MJ. A sigh escaped her as she caved, opening her texts.
“Are you stalking me?”
Her eyes shot up from her phone immediately. Of course he was here. Hazel eyes, choppy brown hair, a nearly healed lip that was rosier than normal. His words echoed her own from the last time they’d spoken. She hadn’t had any need to speak to him, really: they’d given an overzealous freshman a shot at handling the sports section, so she’d been taken off the duty for at least another week.
“You came up to me,” she replied, “And you could still be stalking me for all I know.” Peter grinned, the same grin he’d given her when they met, and when he was being dragged to the penalty box, and when he’d swiped his card for her at the dining hall.
“Not stalking.” He raised his hands in defense, showing off the red solo cup in his grip. He was still smiling that stupid, toothy smile.
“Then what are you doing here?” She raised her brow.
“Well, uh,” he chuckled, “Not to sound like a dick, but this party is sort of for me—for the team, really. We made semis.”
Hot embarrassment flooded her at the realization. She knew that already. Would it be worse to say that and admit she had actually been watching the game on her laptop late last week, or just pretend that she was a lot more dense than she already was?
“Oh,” she hummed, not quite doing either, “I see.”
“So, can I ask what you’re doing here?” Peter asked. He moved slightly, like he wanted to take a seat next to her on the couch but decided against it.
“Isn’t it obvious? I live here,” she replied, the sarcasm thick on her tongue. He seemed to like it because he let out another one of those throaty chuckles.
“Ah, yeah, should’ve figured,” he nodded. With his free hand, he scratched the scruff of hair above his left ear. Then, he spoke up again, “Mind if I sit?”
“A little,” she cringed internally at her own words. Though contradictory, she scooched a bit, asserting that maybe it would be okay if he sat. He took the invitation.
“Where’s MJ?” He cocked his head.
“Kidnapped by your lovely teammate.” “She just left you alone?”
“It’s not her fault—she apologized and told me where he was holding her captive, but…well, the couch opened up,” she shrugged. Another deep laugh.
“That’s pretty sound logic,” he nodded. The last time they’d been this close, she was interviewing him. Well, she was trying to interview him while he flirted incessantly. Peter held his cup between his knees, taking slow sips every once and a while.
“Do you live here?” She turned to fully face him, “Are you one of those frat guys?”
“I thought about it, but I just didn’t have enough time,” he shook his head, “I’m actually in an on-campus apartment. I have my own bathroom, so, hey, I’m winning, I guess.” For perhaps the first time, a light laugh was drawn from her lips. It wasn’t necessarily real, more like a confirmation that she heard him, but it was enough to make Peter’s lips twitch into another grin.
“What about you, Kitty?”
And there it was. He had to ruin it.
“What’s your obsession with trying to call me that?” She grumbled.
“You said your friends call you that,” he replied, acting so nonchalant that it took all her strength not to roll her eyes.
“We’re not friends,” she corrected him quickly. His face fell for only a minute before he was already picking his lips up into another grin.
“Can’t we be?” He asked. His words were so sincere, like he was actually searching for friendship behind her eyes. Maybe he was being sincere. She shifted in her spot.
“I don’t know. I mean, I know I probably came off sort of strong before, inviting you to the game and everything, but you came, so I sort of thought…” he shrugged again, “We’re…friends? Of some sort?”
Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. She’d shown up. But it was because of MJ, because MJ wanted to go. Yeah, that was why.
“MJ wanted to see Harry,” she disputed.
“But you still came,” he pressed. She still came. A sigh left her.
“Okay, we’re, like, sort of friends,” she finally admitted, “But that doesn’t mean you just get to call me that name.”
“Well then what am I supposed to call you?” He questioned, and her eyebrows furrowed in response. A smile split on his lips, “You never actually introduced yourself to me, y’know.”
Another burst of molten embarrassment. She searched her mind, trying to remember if she’d ever told him her name, but she was drawing blanks. She’d been so pissed off during the interview that she never introduced herself. Her scalp burned.
“Y/n,” she swallowed her pride for a moment, “That’s what you can call me.”
“I sort of like Kitty better.” Now he was just pushing the limits.
“Well, it’s not for you to use,” her voice was sharp.
“Harry uses it.” “Harry is a dick that doesn’t listen to me when I tell him to stop calling me it.”
“MJ uses—”
“MJ uses it because she’s allowed to use it,” she interrupted, “Hearing other people use it is like hearing a stranger refer to you by your family nickname. It’s freaky.”
“Is there a reason for it? The nickname, I mean?” Peter, for as genuine as he was trying to be, couldn’t hide his grin.
“A stupid one.” Why would she admit that?
“Can I hear it?” He pressed.
“You are just full of questions,” she huffed. Silence settled between them. Beats of unspoken words fell like snowflakes as the dull thump of the party shifted to the forefront.
“It’s a stupid reason,” she repeated, breaking the seal. Peter looked at her again.
“Is it?” His voice was a little softer than before.
“Yeah,” she sighed. Why was she giving in so easily?
“It’s because I always land on my feet somehow,” she began to explain, “Not literally. Like, back in high school, I’d have a test I forgot to study for, and I’d ace it somehow. Or when I used to do the professor spotlight for the paper, I would put it off until the last minute and bullshit a whole piece just to be told it’s one of the best things I’ve done. Stuff like that. MJ said I’m like a cat, but cuter, so she started calling me that freshman year.”
Like clockwork, Peter let out a huff of laughter. He looked at her, eyes sparkling with the new information and he curled his lips. She must’ve been getting some second-hand smoke, because her head seemed a little fuzzier than before.
“I thought it was going to be something traumatic,” he chuckled, “Like, you got stuck in a tree or something.”
“It’s just personal,” she rolled her eyes.
“So,” his laughter subsided, “I don’t have Kitty privileges?” “No,” she shook her head.
“Do you mean ‘no’ or ‘not yet’?” His smile was unbearable.
“I mean ‘no’.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Are you sure sure?”
She was going to have to physically restrain herself. Instead of arguing, she shuffled in her seat, “I think I’m gonna go see if MJ is still—”
“Hey,” he said softly. His hand landed on her arm in a featherlight touch that had her nerve ending lighting up. Her eyes met his. The softness that consumed the hazel caused her to still.
“Before you go,” his tone was more subdued now, “Can I possibly have your number?”
The question caught her off guard. If she hadn’t already stopped moving, she would’ve come to a screeching halt. Perhaps what confused her the most was that her instinctual response was to say yes, to reach for her phone and let him make a new contact.
“I promise I won’t set your name as ‘Kitty’,” he added, “Scout’s honor.” “Were you a boy scout?” She cocked her head.
“Nope,” he replied with that same giddy grin that melted her resolve. Another sigh escaped her as she grabbed her phone. He waited patiently as she created a new contact and handed over the phone. His fingers darted across the screen before taking a picture of himself. Well, more like a picture of his eyes and nose way too close to the camera. He gave the phone back, seemingly proud of himself. The picture was set, and the name he’d chosen for himself was ‘peter :)’. He also sent himself a text so he would have her number.
“I’ll let you go now,” he grinned, “Have fun watching drunks play pong.” She nodded and nearly stood, but was planted back to her seat in a moment.
“How did you know where I was going?” Her eyebrows creased. Peter’s smile fell slightly as his eyes widened.
“Oh,” he coughed, “Well, I bumped into MJ earlier, so, y’know.”
“Mhm,” she hummed, “And I bet you didn’t ask her where I was, either.” He chuckled nervously and scratched the spot above his ear again.
“Nope,” he lied. She shook her head at his tone.
“Right,” she stood, “See you around, stalker.”
“Bye, Ki—Y/n,” he cut himself off, grinning proudly when he noticed his mistake. His smile had to be contagious, infectious, because her own lips began to curl in response.
It was surprisingly easy to find MJ. She didn’t know where the patio was, but luck was on her side tonight: after shoving through a dozen drunks, she found sliding glass doors. The fresh air felt like a cold shower as she stepped out. It was much less loud out here. Only the filtered thump of the music and the buzz of voices could be heard. That was until a light splash and a cacophony of deep yells filled her ears. When she cautiously approached the hoard of people surrounding the beer pong table, a pair of hands wrapped around her in death grip.
“I am so, so sorry!” MJ’s voice eased her nerves immediately, “I’m horrible! I’m the worst! I promised to stick by you, and I bailed! I—”
“Honey, it’s okay,” she let out a small laugh at her behavior. She should be angrier than she was, but she just couldn’t pull herself to get mad.
“I promise I will never ever force you to a party again, and I’ll never leave you,” MJ continued, “I’ll wait outside the shower for you!”
“That’s tempting, but you don’t have to.” Her voice seemed to somewhat quell MJ’s nerves, though the redhead was still on high alert.
“Are you just acting okay but really you’re harboring a deep resentment for me that will slowly boil into hatred?” MJ scrunched her nose. She was definitely a few drinks in.
“I promise,” she said, and she actually meant it, “I do not hate you.” MJ sighed in relief as she finally let go of the girl in front of her. True to her word, she stuck by her the rest of the night. When they finally made their way back to the dorm—both tipsy—she finally checked her phone. There was a message from Peter; a screenshot of her contact info with the name set as ‘y/n :)’ and a text:
‘scout’s honor’
a/n — OKAY OKAY i know nothing humongous happened in this chap, but we’re getting there 🤭 you guys just wait until peter *redacted* and *redacted* so reader has to *redacted.* also, at the time of posting this, i hit 400!! love you guys so much, you're all my sweet little baby muffins
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@reidslovely @iamliterallyspidergwen @tarzinnia (tarzinnia, hon, i cannot for the life of me remember if you asked to be on the taglist so i added you just in case—let me know if you want off!)
This is what we'll get for the next multidoctor story
we were all thinking it