#gracelynn

tasm!peter parker x fem!oc

warnings: none!

now playing . . . oh caroline, the 1975 & now that we don’t talk, taylor swift

oc info: gracelynn leigh redding has been peter parker’s best friend since he moved in next door… until they fell out. despite gracelynn’s sudden rise in popularity she kept her nerdy interests hidden, but he knew. he’ll always know.

  Gracelynn has been watching him for ages. Figuring him out. She hasn't talked to Peter Parker in years. She debated calling him the night his uncle died, but she knew better. He wouldn't want to talk to her, not after everything that had happened. The words she couldn't take back.

She tried to shake the feeling off, the peculiar one of guilt, the feeling that ties knots in your stomach and makes you lose your appetite. The brunette missed being his Gracie.

As the girl brushed past him in the halls, her best friend Lottie quickly caught up with her. "Lynnie!" she intertwined her arm with hers. As the girl rambled, Gracelynn couldn't help but look back. He wasn't carrying that skateboard around anymore — wait a minute, was that Gwen Stacy hugging him?!

She gritted her teeth. It's not like the girl had any reason to get mad at Gwen. Nobody knew the two were ever friends. Hell, only Lottie knew Peter was her neighbour. A faint memory of them playing on the swingset in her backyard will forever remain, tucked away in the part of her brain strictly labelled "do not even think about it" — she could never even so think about the boy. Because then she might actually miss him.

Back in chemistry, Mr Anderson went on and on about kinetics. Gracelynn's eyebrows scrunched together. Why had she taken this AP class again? He explained the task, but she wasn't really listening. Who cared about reaction times anyway? Her eyes drifted to Peter, who was sketching something in his notebook. "Alright, get into partners!" Mr. Anderson announced, catching Gracelynn's attention.

She had no friends in this class.

Her eyes drifted to everyone finding their partners, leaving her alone with Peter Parker. Peter Parker?! Fucking hell.

He sighed, sitting down next to her, pushing his glasses up his nose again. Her lips parted. Did he always look this... good? No, dammnit! That was Peter Parker, the loser camera-boy. "I think you should write the report, Gracie—", he cleared his throat, "Gracelynn."

"Hm? Oh, right. Yeah okay. I can do that."

There was a change. He looked... different. Her eyes inspected him as he prepped for their experiments. As she scrutinized him, her eyes ran over him as a whole. The way his bicep curled (since when did he have those?), his slim waist, the scratches on his neck, and the way his glasses slid down. Damn. That wasn't scrawny ol' Peter Parker anymore, was it?

"So, I'd write it like this?" she showed him her worksheet, Gracelynn and Peter written neatly at the top in pink ink. She was precise — she always was. Everything was noted. Everything he was murmuring to her. "Mhm. Yeah. Just like that."

"Peter?"

"Yeah?" he looked at her.

"My dad... he sends his condolences. He told me to tell you."

"Right. Thanks," he saw right through her.  

As she dotted the last i's, she realised their paired work was quickly coming to an end. The brunette was tempted to tell him to recheck it, to ensure she had marked the correct graph and written down the right numbers, but she didn't. Because you couldn't fool Peter Parker. As much as you tried.

love always, annie