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thursdaygxrls · 9 months

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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

taglist

@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!)

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burythel1ght · 11 months

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HELPME

#pinterest comments can be so funny #is he riding a hockey stick btw like what is happening #spider plush #across the spider verse #atsv #into the spider verse #itsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #peter parker #miles morales #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy #miguel ohara

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larsnicklas · 19 hours

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brock boeser ✧ 2023-24 exit interview yeah, i'm crushed. i wish i could've been out there with the guys, and you know, obviously a one-goal game, i felt that, you know, of course i'm sitting there saying 'i could have scored.' you never know what could have happened if i played. i would've done anything to be out there. i asked if i could play and tried to push them, but obviously the risks are too big. i had to protect my future. you don't want health issues moving forward.

#brock boeser #vancouver canucks #canucks #nhl #nhledit #hockey #hockeyedit #meg.nucks #meg.gif #meg.all #darling :(#tired of bad things happening to brock boeser.#they should be happening to [redacted] instead.#anyway. had to gif brock after having to intermittently look at peter l.aviolette for almost 80 minutes #so here he is <3

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babvblue · 4 months

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finn bennett as peter prior true detective: night country s04e01

#finn bennett #finnbennettedit #peter prior #peterprioredit #**#finn bennett .#true detective .#idk how to say this but even tho he's british he looks like he'd play hockey

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radiohead-spiderman · 4 months

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LILY EVANS BUT MODERN AU YIPPIE, I gave up at the end so she kinda looks weird but wooohoooo

BONUS: James’ reaction to the image above

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broskiladoskii · 3 months

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DO YOU GUYS SEE IT?!?!

#matt rempe #evan peters #nhl #nhl hockey #actor #lookalike #they’re so fine

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rangersgirl73 · 1 month

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just saw a comment that said matt rempe is the evan peters of hockey and i’m disappointed in myself for not seeing the resemblance sooner

#matt rempe #evan peters #new york rangers #hockey

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merrellholland · 9 months

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Not So Bad After All → P.Parker AU

HEYYYY YALL; its been a minute and I am sooooo sorry LMAO. I promise to get back into my writing era <3

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Person: Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

AU: college hockey player, frat boy, still spider-man in secret

Words: 2.4k

Warning: swearing, slight bullying (but nothing too deep)

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Never in my life would I expect to have been dressed up in the most stinky and bulky fury suit… yet, here I am dressed as Sparky the Eagle. I was currently a junior at Empire State University located in beautiful New York, and throughout the years I may have found myself in a bit of a dilemma.

Money was never an easy task for my family and I, in fact I got into this school with a huge scholarship to help support my financial needs. Despite that, I still needed to pay some tuition fees and that meant that I needed a job. This isn’t my first rodeo though, back home I had many jobs all at the same time during high school in order to help my mom with paying bills. The only hard part was trying to find a job in New York, a place that I’ve never been to until I started my first semester at Empire State.

As I’ve completed the first two years and am now currently in my third, I’ve noticed the major stereotypical things for a college on T.V were coming to real life. The sorority girls were straight-up obnoxious and cruel to other girls who weren’t part of their sorority house, the frat boys were shirtless 24/7 while playing beer pong and having girls in bikinis all over their front yards of their gigantic frat house every Friday, and lastly the sport-frat boys. These guys were a whole different level of frat boys, and I’ve learned that very early on. These guys? Not only were they known for their handsome looks but most of these guys were going to real professional sports leagues after college, and we all know how that goes for them… in terms of love life.

All the girls (and some guys) would be over, flirting constantly with them and not really taking interest in their sport but rather their six-pack abs and looks.

As much as it pains me to say the cliche phrase “not like other girls” it's true. I really wasn't like the other girls swooning over these guys 24/7 and attending their friday night parties after classes were done. I was more the type of person who would prefer to finish homework and then cozy up with some blankets and a classic 2010’s rom-com.

But now I can’t even do that since my new job requires me to be at the ice rink every week on Fridays from 6-9pm. Six to nine! That’s three hours of prime time that I could be doing homework! And that’s not even the worst part,my job was that I had to be the mascot for the ice-hockey team during their games and interacting with the fans. The Empire State hockey team was one of the best in the college leagues throughout the nation and most players got into the NHL as soon as they graduated.

And now I’m their mascot, well I dress up as their mascot and that means getting a big sweaty and gross costume every Friday for 3-4 hours… great. Not that I could complain though, since surprisingly the pay wasn’t that bad due to the fact that you’re a student. Today was my first day on the job. The Empire Eagles were playing against the Cornell Big Red’s today and it was a home game so many students were going to attend.

After I arrived at the rink, the manager handed me the keys to the supply storage room to change into the eagle costume. Getting into that costume was a full ass workout, the smell is something I’ve never smelt before and the amount I was sweating was unbearable. Nevertheless, I got into that God awful attire and headed outside to the ice-rink. The coolness of the air inside did help a little, but I could still feel the beads of sweat trickling down my face.

My manager told me to practice walking on the ice with the costume since during the halftime break you had to collect all the tokens of appreciation from the fans as they threw it onto the rink from their seats. I slowly walked onto the ice with my giant eagle feet and waddled back and forth to try to get used to it before the game started, I practiced bending down to pick up the gifts in character and tried to come up with some signature eagle moves… might as well have some fun with it righ–

“Yo excuse me but the rink is for the players to practice right now.”

I quickly snapped my head to look behind me and–

Great. A sport-frat boy.

Peter Parker was someone that was greatly known throughout the university, top GPA, great looks, apparently great in the bedroom (so I’ve heard), and was the centerman for the Empire Eagles hockey team. Though I’ve never really paid attention to him. And as much as I wanted to dislike him, I’ve never personally met him before or even talked to him… so who am I to judge?

After all, he did ask somewhat politely and– why the heck am I overthinking this? Just apologize and move on Y/N!

I cleared my throat and attempted to have a deeper voice, “Sorry dude I wasn’t aware, I’ll be on my way now” I said… and cringed internally after saying that.

Peter nodded his head and smiled, “No worries, just a little jittery for the game so I wanted some extra practice” He replied.

I nodded my head and then exited the rink, going back to the storage room so nobody would see me yet.

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The game started and was currently ending the second quarter with the score being 2-1, the Empire Eagles winning and the Cornell Big Red’s tailing behind. I could tell that all of the players from Empire State were filled with happiness… and might I add overconfident and cocky. But that was something that I couldn’t pay attention to since I had to focus on giving it my all while I walked towards the ice rink at halftime and collected all the gifts that were thrown onto the ice from the fans in the stadium.

I walked in character as the fun spunky eagle while walking on the ice and picking up the teddy bears with a girl's number in sharpie written on it and a bunch of red roses. As I picked them up and headed back, I took a quick glance and the audience. There were some students who seemed genuinely happy to be there and there were those… What do people call them? Oh yeah puck bunnies? Yeah there were a whole lot of girls wearing those boob jackets from lululemon and attempting to look cold but also cute and petite. I mean again, I’m not one to judge so you do you I guess.

After I collected all of the gifts from the fans, I took some pictures with a couple of kids and I enjoyed that part. I liked seeing the smiles on their faces as they stood proud with me as their parents took photos. It definitely seemed like a core memory for them and I’m glad that I somewhat got to be a part of that.

As the third and fourth quarter went on, it was brutal for us. Cornell absolutely demolished Empire State and beat us 4-2. I guess that’s what our players get for being cocky and overconfident throughout the whole game, thinking that they’ve got this.

After the game ended and the fans left the stadium, my manager said to stay behind and clean the place up and pick up any extra gifts that were left. As I bent down (still in my eagle costume) to pick up some flowers that were left on the ice, something extremely heavy bumped into me from behind causing me to fling forward and make an umph sound.

“What the fuck?” I cursed in a whisper.

“DUDE what the fuck are you still doing here?! You need to get out, it's closed practice now looser” the voice said.

I turned around and looked at the man who was clearly a player on the Empire State Eagles, he had blonde hair and green eyes and was definitely 6’1”. Shit, what was I supposed to do? My manager literally told me to clean the place up and then help security to lock up the stadium!

“Bro be nice, you don’t gotta be mean” Another boy said.

As I looked up, I saw that that other boy was no other than Peter Parker. But before I could register that, he offered me a hand and I immediately accepted it.

I attempted to not sound like a scared wimp so I deepened my voice a little, “Uh thanks dude, I wasn’t aware that it was a closed practice… I’ll uh keep that in mind next time” I said to him.

He smiled, “Don’t worry, Charlie’s just a snob” He replied.

“Yeah I can tell” I responded while walking out of the rink.

He laughed again while combing through his sweaty brown curls, giving me butterflies–

Wait what.

Nope. Nope. Never. Never in a million years. I refuse.

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The next couple of weeks went by normally, except I’ve started to notice Peter Parker more often. I never realized he was in three of my classes. In my morning class he would wear his hockey sweatshirt with gray sweatpants and in the afternoon he would take off his sweatshirt, revealing a tight-fitted white shirt that showed off his biceps.

Damn, now I understand why girls swoon over guys like him… bro’s majestic.

But my mama always told me to focus on my studies, boys come after. And that's what I planned to do, stay focused. He probably doesn’t even know me since at school I’m practically a nobody. I mean I join clubs, I’m in choir, and I’m part of many study groups so most people would know who I am but they probably have other friends to talk to besides me. The same goes for my roommates, they know me but they have other friend groups.

Once again, it was Friday and that meant that we had another home game. The Eagles were playing against the NYU Bobcats. I went into the stadium and got into my disgusting and sweaty eagle costume. Throughout the weeks, I think I slowly got into character and found new dances to help entertain the little kids during timeouts and in between quarters.

As the game started, I did my little dances whenever I could and the score at the end of the second quarter was 1-1. The stakes were going to be high but I have a feeling that we were gonna win this one.

During the third quarter, I sat on the bench that was reserved for me and watched Peter, jersey number 4, skate all over the ice with his hockey stick. He had the puck, all of his attention was on it. The whole audience had a feeling that he was gonna score a goal but then all of a sudden one of the NYU players stole the puck from him and skated furiously across the other side of the rink.

You could see Peter cursing and quickly going to the other side along with his other teammates. Ever since that moment, it seemed that something triggered Peter… he was starting to get more aggressive and ruthless. It made me anxious to see his behavior on the ice, but nevertheless I kept watching.

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Despite the tight game, the Eagles won 3-2 and the whole crowd celebrated which meant that many gifts were thrown down onto the rink. Teddy bears and roses were everywhere and it was all me that had to clean it up. I walked on the ice with my feet stuck in the puffy eagle claws of my costume, gathered all of the gifts, and put them in a big container that I dragged with me across the ice. After I got all the stuffed animals and flowers in the container I headed towards my manager to give it to. As I handed it to him, he thanked me and said I was free as soon as I checked the whole stadium again to see if there was anyone else. I nodded and went back to the arena.

I checked to see if there were any other fans that were trying to stay behind, but didn’t find any… but gosh my feet hurt so much and I just need a little break before heading back to my dorm.

I took out the headpiece of the eagle costume and sighed as the cool breeze from the arena chilled my flushed cheeks. I then took out the rest of my costume which left me with my sweaty ponytail and loose hair strands framing my face along with my black leggings and shirt. Though I didn’t take it into consideration that there would be anyone else entering the stadium again after the game was over. But I guess I was wrong, because all of a sudden I heard a voice from behind me:

“I didn’t realize you were a girl,” I turned my head around to see who it was.

Peter Parker? I thought in my head.

“Or pretty.” he finished his statement with his mouth parting slightly.

I could feel my cheeks warm up despite the cool air as I laughed awkwardly, “W-What? Oh t-thanks… you look pretty too” I replied, not thinking about what I just said.

Peter just nodded and he looked like he was seconds away from drooling as he continued to stare at me… he really does make a girl feel special.

“Uhm, are you doing some extra practice? Or–” I say trying to break the silence.

Peter slightly shook his head and cleared his throat, “Uh yeah, it’s just I don’t feel like I gave it my all today even though we won so I wanted to get some practice in… if that’s okay?” he says.

I smiled and nodded my head, “Yeah sure, I’ll just go tell my manager and put this costume away.” I told him as I stood up.

He smiled back at me with his teeth as I walked towards the manager’s office, feeling intense butterflies cause Peter fucking Parker just called me pretty… WHAT IS MY LIFE?!

You know, I said in the beginning that I wasn’t like other girls but now I definitely think I am (well at least internally).

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AN: PART TWO?? 😏

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker au #peter parker #merrell holland #spiderman au #new york #empire state university #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker ice hockey #tom holland ice hockey #peter parker ice hockey au #peter parker one shot

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theflirtmeister · 3 months

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make the hits count

Mark Hoffman/Peter Strahm - Hockey AU - Saw Franchise

Strahm only gets traded to Metro City after their Captain gets her chest split open on the ice, the skate blade of the opposing team buried deep into her breastbone. It had looked like a slaughterhouse floor – Perez and Strahm had been watching on their shitty apartment television, and they’d both sat up like they’d been shot as Kerry wheezed blood up onto the ice.

She’ll never play again. An entire life destroyed in a single moment, Amanda Young’s skates in the wrong place, Allison Kerry sliding on her knees at the wrong time. They’d ended the game, spectators averting their eyes as Kerry’s body was wheeled off, Matthew’s hysterical as he chased after her. They cut the audio feed, but Strahm had watched Matthew yell and scream and shout, and curse the hockey gods.

read the rest on ao3 here!

#coffinshipping #hoffstrahm #saw fics #mark hoffman x peter strahm #hockey au #blame ereb1d

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thursdaygxrls · 5 months

Text

thin ice — four

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary — kitty is yet again dragged to a social gathering she would rather not attend. the bait this time? weed!

paring — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!(journalist)!reader

disclaimer — who is expecting me to own peter parker by now?? bc i don’t

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty,’ weed, slightly inexperienced reader (experienced peter, no smut yet im sorry), possible ooc

Days like these were the ones Kitty craved: hazy, chilly spring weather that resembled fall, except that dying leaves were replaced by cherry-red buds, and flowers bloomed through blades of grass. It was one of those days with no responsibilities to fill her precious hours—the ones that were spent scrolling through Pinterest and reading. She was stretched haphazardly along her bed, still dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with holes in the armpits. The blinds were still closed, so the sudden beam of light next to her startled her.

“You love interrupting my dark-dwelling time,” she hissed as MJ entered the room. Sticking out her tongue, MJ closed the door behind her and sealed off the obnoxious light, much to Kitty’s relief.

“I’m sorry, my sun-hating princess,” MJ spoke dramatically as she rummaged through her bag, “But, I come bearing gifts.”

At this, Kitty perked up, swiping out of Project Makeover and sitting up to devote her full attention to her roomate. From her bag, MJ produced two plastic-wrapped chocolate-chip cookies and tossed them to bed. The girl pounced on them, immediately tearing into the plastic on one of the packs.

“I forgive you,” she said before biting into the treat.

“Thank God,” MJ replied in dramatic relief. Ease settled over the room as MJ removed her jacket and went about unpacking her things. Kitty, now finished with her first cookie, tossed the used plastic to the trash can across the room (and missed horribly).

“What’ve you been up to this lovely Friday?” She asked her freckled friend, who was currently changing out of her cable knit sweater.

“Oh, you know, class,” MJ responded as she slid a Stevie Nicks shirt over her head, “Some people still have class on Fridays.”

“That must be heartbreaking,” Kitty hummed sarcastically, “Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah,” MJ’s movements were smooth as she went through her bag, “I had lunch with Harry after class.”

“Was the dining hall romantic?” Kitty questioned with a smile.

“Totally,” MJ responded with a laugh, “The black-bean burgers are basically aphrodisiacs. Anyways, he invited us out to Hot Rock around eight, so I was thinking we could get dinner–”

“No, thanks,” Kitty intercepted, bringing her legs up closer to her torso and flattening her lips to a line, “I’m not leaving the dorm today.”

“If you had it your way, you’d do that every day,” MJ groaned.

“And?’ Kitty quirked a brow, causing another grumble to leave her counterpart.

“Do you realize how much I say ‘no’ to stuff?” She continued, “‘Kitty, wanna go to a hockey game?’ No. ‘Kitty, wanna go to a frat party?’ No. Our entire relationship exists on the basis of you wanting to do stuff and me trying to refuse.”

“But you still went,” MJ raised her brows hopefully, “To both things. And it’s not like it’s just going to be Harry, he said some other people would be there.”

“Oh, great, other people, you know how much I love social gatherings where I don’t know anyone.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“You know Peter,” MJ suggested. Kitty hadn’t seen Peter in a while. ‘A while,’ in her case, was a week. She’d gotten some semi-regular texts from him (cat memes and open invites to hang out) but hadn’t seen him since the frat party.

“Is it the best use of their time to be at Hot Rock when the semi-finals are two days away?” Kitty asked.

“No, probably not, but,” MJ’s smile, which had been dimming, came back with full vibrance, “But we can reap the benefits of their deviant behavior.”

“Are the benefits better than chocolate chip cookies?” She hummed.

“Pre-rolls and a bong,” MJ wiggled her fingers in a tamer version of jazz hands. Kitty seemed to deflate with a loud sigh.

“I hate that you make me do things.”

Hot Rock existed on the older, suburban side of campus. Right behind one of the major dining halls was a small, hidden space that hit the blind spot of the security cameras in the area. It wasn’t a rock so much as an artificial slab of stone with a metal pipe attached that spewed hot steam. It was connected to the heating system in the dining hall, but also served as a popular spot for stoners. A few of these man-made smoke spots were scattered around campus, but this one was the most popular, mainly because this rock was always much hotter than the others.

Kitty’s breath appeared in small puffs in the night air and she and MJ walked around the corner of the dining hall. It was spring, and the weather was getting warmer, but there was still a bit of frost. As they shuffled down a small slope, the rock revealed itself, decorated with about four people, one of them being Harry.

“MJ!” He nearly fell over himself scrambling towards the pair. He pressed a small kiss to her lips and wrapped an arm around her in greeting. MJ giggled, choosing to ignore Kitty’s gagging face.

“Kitty-cat!” Harry directed his grinning face to her, “I’m so glad MJ got you out of your tree.”

“I almost wish you’d just call me ‘bitch’ instead of that,” she replied. Harry, not losing any vigor, laughed.

“I know what you need.” He wagged his brows as he reached into the breast pocket of his flannel. He produced a mini pre-rolled joint with a proud grin, “Kitty needs her catnip.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” she said, and he simply chuckled. His eyes moved from hers, and somehow his impossibly bright smile widened. Kitty turned and was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

“I’m a big fan of catnip, too,” Peter grinned, sliding down to meet the rest of the group.

“Hey, Peter,” Harry let go of MJ for a moment to give Peter a half-hug. Peter’s eyes, however, never let go of Kitty. He held her gaze with ease.

“Can we sit? My ass is cold,” MJ grumbled lightly as Harry took his post next to her.

“Of course, of course,” was Harry’s hurried reply. The four found spots on the rock, Harry returning to his original spot and taking MJ with him. Kitty settled in a small nook where the slab met a natural rock formation, and, as if she was a magnetic pole, Peter sat next to her. A few awkward introductions were shared with the others at the rock, though, it was clear they were all at least a few hits into Harry’s pre-rolls.

“So,” Peter’s voice cracked through the silence, “We keep finding each other, don’t we?”

“You keep finding me,” Kitty corrected.

“Same difference,” he shrugged. Wordlessly, he slipped his backpack from his shoulder and set it down in front of him. He worked in surprising order as he removed the items: a grinder, a small, rolled-up plastic bag, a green bong that had seen better days.

“Are student athletes supposed to be smoking?” She asked. For once, his gaze wasn’t focused on her, but on the contents before him.

“Helps with nerves,” he said, grabbing the baggy, “It’s medical, y’know.”

“Hm, I bet,” she replied. He worked with diligence: his long, slender fingers plucked a chunk of bud from the bag and trapped it in the grinder. The sleeves of his black long sleeve were rolled up, revealing his wrist that tensed lightly when he ground the bud. She’d never quite noticed how strong his hands looked—veiny and taught, likely from the hours upon hours of hockey practice. Then came the realization that she was staring, which pulled her attention away from him and to the others on the rock. Though there weren’t many people, pockets of conversation were created: MJ and Harry, who were cuddled up and passing a joint, two other members of the hockey team and a girl with shaggy blonde hair, and, of course, her and Peter.

“Alright,” Peter hummed in satisfaction as he packed the bowl. He grabbed a red lighter from the front pocket of his jeans and finally looked at Kitty. He held the bong out for her with one of those easy, boyish smiles, “Wanna do the honors, Y/n?”

Peter seemed to be good at evoking emotions from her. Annoyance, frustration, confusion, and now, prickly embarrassment. She licked her lips, looking from the bong and back to him.

“Um,” she let out a small cough, “I’m…not sure how to?”

She wasn’t new to smoking. There was the occasional joint she and MJ would indulge in, or maybe she would take a hit off cart at one of the parties she was dragged to. She’d just hadn’t gotten the chance to hit a bong before—a fact that didn’t bother her until she was here, staring at Peter. She hated her reply and the way she stumbled with her words. She hated that she had nothing better to say. She hated that she had released blood into the water.

“You haven’t done this before?” He grinned. Her jaw clenched at the way he said that. Kitty, in response, sucked her teeth.

“Have you never smoked before?” He cocked his head.

“No, I have, just not this,” she sighed, a slight aggravated clip to her words. Peter must’ve noticed because his gloating grin softened.

“That’s alright,” his voice was more mellow now, “That’s okay, everyone has a first time.”

This persona, the calmer one he adapted when he knew she was getting pissed off, may have pissed her off even more. If he wasn’t being an asshole, it was harder to be annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with herself.

“Okay,” she said, a cleansing breath of chilled spring air filling her lungs.

“Okay?” He repeated, “You want to try?”

Kitty glanced at MJ and Harry. They weren’t doing anything graphic, but they were still all over each other, giggling and whispering. She turned back to Peter and nodded.

“You sure?” He raised a brow.

“Gimme,” she groaned, taking the glass bong from his hands. He let out a small, breathy chuckle and nodded.

“Okay, so,” he sat up, “I’m gonna light it, you breathe in through the mouth right here. I’ll pull the bowl for you and you keep breathing in, okay?”

Kitty nodded, her lips descending on the mouthpiece. A sudden flash of panic struck her as he flicked the lighter. Did she look stupid? Was she being stupid? Why did she care? Peter lit the bowl, and she did as he said, sucking in a deep drag. The bong bubbled to life and milky smoke flooded the tube.

“Good, good,” Peter encouraged as he pulled the bowl, “Keep sucking in—there you go, just like that.”

She’d been doing fine until he’d spoken. His words, meant as innocent encouragement, sent blood rushing to her face. Her scalp burned as her head reared back and ragged coughs escaped her. Smoke left her lips in puffs, like dust being stirred from an old book. Peter patted her back with one hand and rummaged through his bag with another.

“That happens,” he spoke, unphased by her continuous coughing. He took a metal water bottle decorated in stickers in various states of wear from his bag and unscrewed the lid.

“Here, drink,” he brought it to her lips and she immediately sucked down the water. It was cold against her burning throat. She focused on how cool it was, hoping it would also subdue the burning in her face. A few gulps later, Kitty was back to a semi-normal state. She took in deep breaths, swirling in oxygen with the cannabis in her lungs.

“That was a big-ass hit. Good job,” Peter chuckled, “When was the last time you smoked?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks ago? And thank you,” Kitty replied. There wasn’t a hint of snark in her words, which was highly unusual. The afterburn of her influx of new feelings was still there.

“That oughta do it,” he took the bong from her, “I mean, you can totally have more, but your tolerance is probably pretty low, and the hit you just took looked more like three.”

“Yeah, that oughta do it,” she coughed out. He eyed her, suspicious of her lack of sass, before lighting the bowl for himself.

The bong caught up with her within ten minutes. There was a low vibration in her body, one that pulsed in her fingertips and warmed her. Her vision was a bit more narrow now, like she was viewing movie through her vision. Her mind bubbled, and when her eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, she leaned back with astonished glee.

It wasn’t often that you saw stars in the sky on this side of New York. Usually, the city lights blocked out anything non-artificial. But here, a mile or so away from the more prominent lights, she was able to see the glimmer of distant stars. It was captivating, really, and she could’ve stared at them for hours. Maybe she did. People buzzed around her without her recognition. Even Peter seemed to settle into a comfortable silence next to her.

“Do you remember that one episode of Hannah Montana where Miley moves into a new house and there’s a pizza oven? Like, one of those wood ovens you put pizza in. A pizza oven? Yeah?” She asked, glancing in Peter’s direction. He seemed to only slightly register the question before looking at her with a cocked brow.

“No,” he replied.

“Oh,” she hummed, “What about the one where—it’s the third episode, I think—the one where Oliver—no, it’s the second episode—the one where Oliver is in love with Hannah Montana, but he doesn’t know it’s Miley, so Miley and Lilly are like ‘oh, no!’”

“No,” he repeated. His voice wasn’t harsh, though. It was soft, maybe even curious.

“It’s good,” she said, “Real good. Real good.”

It was around then that the stars began to lull her to sleep. There was something comfortable about this moment: the heat of the rock, the stars, the weed in her system. She drifted off for a moment and was quickly awoken by a gentle shake.

“Y/n?” Peter called lightly, “Are you sleepy?”

His hand was on her arm. His hand was on her arm. Her eyes settled on that before she could even begin to process his words. His hand was lovely, truly, with its web of veins, the slender fingers that warmed her skin. She looked up to him and smiled.

“Hey!” Was her cheery reply. He laughed at this and nodded. Kitty cocooned inside herself once more as he turned away and called out to someone on the other side of the rock. She heard Harry, then MJ, then Peter again. It sounded like hearing a foreign language as the spoke.

“Would you like to sleep in your bed instead of this rock?” Peter asked. Kitty, still cocooned, sprung forward a bit.

“Yes,” she responded confidently. He couldn’t help but smile at her tone. He packed away his bag swiftly and stood, offering a hand to Kitty.

“You think I can’t stand up? Oh, I can stand up—I’m an olympic stander,” she mumbled, rejecting his hand. This side of her was something Peter had never experienced. He was used to snippy comments and sharp replies, but the inebriated, bumbling Kitty was an entirely different person. He liked it. A lot.

They began their trek back to Kitty’s dorm in silence. It was comfortable like this: quiet interrupted by the occasional off-key hum by the girl. It wasn’t a very far walk, only five minutes or so, and when they reached the front, Peter’s tight grin loosened a bit.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hand gently catching her arm. In this state, she wasn’t able to deny the electric current that was sent through her nervous system. Kitty shivered as she met his eyes.

“I know you’re not in the right headspace for this, so I’ll ask you again later, but…” he trailed off. He looked away from her, and she caught the way his throat bobbed slightly. This lasted for only a moment before he was making eye contact again, “Do you wanna come to semis?”

That wasn’t the question she expected. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Instead of responding, she stared blankly at him.

“It’s not here, it’s actually kind of far away,” he was rambling now, “Well, not super far, it’s in New Jersey. It’s sort of late notice, so I know you might not want to go, and you have your own shit to worry about, too, so—”

“This is very weird,” Kitty interrupted.

“What?” Peter stopped, looking to her with a quirked brow.

“You’re acting nervous and talking a lot. Weird,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I am nervous, and I’m a little high, and you’re really hot, so there’s just a lot going on up here.” He gestured to his head. Her eyes were blank for several seconds before they sparked in recognition.

“Oh—oh.” Her expression changed rapidly, eventually landing on something akin to realization. Silence swelled between them for a moment before it was broken by one word: “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Peter repeated.

“Maybe,” she nodded in agreement. His lips tugged into a boyish smile once more.

“Okay, Y/n,” he grinned, “Maybe.”

a/n — (in the voice of that one meme) heyy….how y’all doin??? okay so im sorry that this update is months late, college has been a lot. it’s been fun tho!! like, i think im the happiest ive ever been. anyways, im sorry if this update doesn’t fit as well with the others, im trying to get back into the groove of writing, forgive me 🙏 love u guys!!

taglist

@reidslovely @awezomezauce @tarzinnia @fr3akho3 @multilovebot @collywobbl @naok-iyuu @kay-i-guess @littlexscarletxwitch @ujimoo

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