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aneenasevla · 2 years

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Devil's Food - Chapter 24

MasterList /Ayami’s Profile /Previous

Chapter 24 - Swordswoman

“I am home!” Ayami announces, taking off her shoes after entering “Akito?”

“Welcome” Akito answers, appearing in the hallway. He had his cell phone in his hand. “Hey, Aya, is it ok if I go to my friend’s house this weekend? It's one of the Kenjutsu boys, you know them…”

“Oh, yes, I know” she was even now practicing together with them at the dojo, twice a week “all right. Take your things and be careful, okay? How do you get there?”

“I'll take the subway…”

“Hmmm” she looks at the time on the wall clock “yeah, I think if you go in at most half an hour, you can arrive at a reasonable time. You may go.”

“And you, are you going to be okay?” he approaches. The truth is that he was kind of nervous about leaving the house after all, but since Ayami insisted that everything was fine now, that nothing else was going to happen, he was trying to get on with life, even without their father there. It was a very complicated situation, and they both needed therapy, but in those two months, only he was getting it. Aya needed friends first, and that was what she was looking for. Friends and Defense Training.

“I'll be fine” she concludes “I don't have any commitments this weekend, and the house also needs cleaning…”

“Okay, Thanks, Aya” he smiles, almost jumping “I'll get my things and let the guys know.”

“Call or text me if you need to, okay? And when you arrive there too, please.”

“Okay,” he smiled tenderly. Other brothers would be annoyed, but Akito had had enough experience to understand the value of it “I’ll warn you, yes. I'll even leave the phone charged.”

“Thank you” she entered the house and started to relax.

…

She watched Akito leave the house, until he disappeared from the street, and took the bus to the station. They might already be safe, but being the only family she had now, the feeling of concern was mutual. She went back inside, mostly when she heard the sound of thunder. A summer storm was approaching.

“Yeah, apparently I’m going to have to hang out the laundry on Sunday,” she mutters to herself, “next step: close the windows and make dinner,” and she stretches out in her baggy shirt and short shorts, now a little baggier than usual because of her slight loss of weight due to the exercises, and proceeds to do what he had said. And since she was home alone and had a good day to eat whatever she wanted, she decided to take the day off to take care of herself too. Do what she liked to do too. She had to stop being workaholic, after all, it was one of the things she'd seen that she did a lot. And tomorrow would be Saturday, so it would be a rest day, as the rain would probably last a while.

She lifted her feet and began to dance down the hall, as she went through the rooms of the house to close the windows. She could see the raindrops falling, slowly increasing, but she was in no hurry. She was having fun, forgetting a little about concentration…

You have to be alert to your surroundings… that voice echoed, and she stopped, gripping the porthole of the master bedroom window, the last one of the house. She sighed, closing but not quite, she wanted the air passing a little.

Again… he couldn't get out of her head. But she didn't feel scared, or anxious… just extremely irritated. Was there some kind of trauma like that? She didn't know, but if she booked therapy, maybe she'd find out. She was going to see it next week, after business hours. She had already gotten the first part, after all. Kanami was a great friend, and in those days, she had met two other friends of hers too, so they formed a little group. From time to time they would go out to drink or eat something together. She even received an invitation to attend the Obon festival, but she declined. They sure would take their boyfriends, and as far as she knew, she was single, so she didn't want to be the only one alone. She would celebrate at home, with her brother, or another acquaintance.

She just knew that she didn’t want to be alone. She would find a way.

She sighed. Why is creating friendship so complicated? It shouldn't be.

She left the window and went to take care of dinner. An omelet with vegetables and cheese would do the trick. She took the ingredients and got to work.

She broke the eggs and scrambled, to organize the dough, and was about to fry it when she remembered that she needed to organize the vegetables. She turned off the fire and went to work on it.

You are incredibly inattentive… his voice said in her mind. She snorts.

“I'm not. I'm normal, I was just in the midst of… monsters” he murmurs as he carefully cuts the vegetables “you really are so special that you think you're superior… but you're nothing but assholes… especially…” him.

Yes, indeed, she definitely needed to go to therapy. Assholes were always the hardest to forget…especially when she had to put up with him so much of the time. Even more so when he was a moody, irritating, spoiled, and pretentious guy… and fun, chaotic, incredibly smart, despite his malice, and there was no denying that he was also full of surprises, and curious… he just needed to know what the hell was a limit...

She shivered as she realized what she was doing and shook her head “Uuuugh, Ayami, don't” she dropped the knife and sighed “Not that again.”

Then like a rubber band, her ultra-focused mind remembered she was going to the wrong place and quickly came back, remembering the day it all went down the drain. That's it, focus. In this you need to keep your head.

Ayami goes back to work, now with more rhythm, and with the vegetables properly mixed in the egg and seasoning mixture, she turned on the fire to actually fry the omelet.

He didn't deserve anything good. She would always remember him as an idiot who one day was holding her hand, and the next, spitting on her with those absurd words. The moment her hand found his face was extremely cathartic, despite being an extremely dangerous movement. But Fusui and Youko were there, and they were willing to help her...

Weren't they? Or were they so shocked they wouldn't react if he tried to fight back? She shivered. The thing could have escalated into something very bad… she knew the abyss, so much so that she almost fell into it. Now she was staring at it from afar. Yes, her family's problem was resolved, and she was now at peace with the Kure…but they wouldn't blame her if she didn't react well if he showed up.

She removed the baked omelet from the heat and placed it on the plate, arranging some rice in the bowl, arranging the table. She was hesitant not to arrange for two, on the other side. She always organized everything, and remembered the other two residents of the house. It was hard to remember that they now only had two residents, instead of three. She sighed, and arranged for one more, just out of habit. She wasn't going to get anything dirty, so she wouldn't need to take it off the table later. She sat up, slightly more satisfied.

She clasped her hands in thanks for the food when she heard the bell ring. The rain was falling hard outside. She blew out a breath through her nose, standing up and heading for the door. The bell rang again.

“Oh, come on, calm down!” she complains. Whoever it was, they must have been in a hurry because of the rain. She looks at the door, and concluded she would have to install a peephole in it someday, for sure. She opened the door “May I hel-?”

There was no one at the door. And the rain was pouring down cats and dogs. She looked a little further ahead, taking advantage of the small roof at the entrance, and looked at the street. No one at all.

Huh.

She sighed. How could anyone have the audacity to pull this kind of prank in the middle of a summer storm? The person could have been struck by lightning, or something like that! She shook her head and walked back into the house, closing the door and locking it… the floor was even wet from her feet…

But her feet were dry, in her bare feet… strange. She turned to go back to her dinner when she almost bumped into something, and stopped the moment she realized it and looked up.

And her eyes widened at the sight.

“Hey”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGHHH!!” In reflex, she threw one of the shoes from the closet behind her, and hit him square in the face. And she didn't stand still, of course she ran away, she wouldn’t stay even if they paid her.

It was him. It was the devil himself. What would he be…?

“Oy! Hey! Is this how you welcome people to your house?!” he complains, that husky voice that haunted her mind, now vivid and real in her ears.

“Go away! Get out of me, die, Devil!” She ran into the house, to her room. Where the hell was her Katana? He had left her somewhere...

“Hey, wait a minute, Mou-eh, Ayami!” she heard his call, but she didn't care. She wouldn't fall for that again. That toxic relationship was over!

“Go away! I have nothing to deal with you!” She went into her room, closed the door and locked it. Fuck dinner, she wasn't coming down again. She felt her body shake.

What the hell was he doing there? Would he by any chance come to kill her? Torture her? Humiliate her some more by telling her what a petty thing she was?!

She took a deep breath, and looked for her weapon, it was somewhere, where?! Damn, goddamn brain, work!

She remembered that she had left it at the head of the bed, and went immediately to get it. She had promised herself that she would avoid using it, both for her own good and for everyone around her, but now the case was different. This was not someone you wanted well.

She closed her eyes, catching her breath as she slowly unsheathed her sword. She felt the weight of the purple steel in her hand, and tried to calm herself. That was her weapon, her deadly arm, her extension… she faced the door, and braced herself for a possible break-in. He was strong enough for that. She would meticulously count all the expenses to charge those bastards.

Depredation of property, home invasion, moral harassment, perhaps physical… the list just kept getting longer. She would move worlds and funds to sue and arrest this man. It would be the end of him.

He might be the Devil, but she was a Lawyer.

Ayami waited in front of the door, and nothing. Silence. Just the rain outside and the thunder. She felt her spine prickling. Behind you.

Dammit, the window, why did she have to forget about the window?! It was so obvious...

She turned her sword, barely making a sound, and she tensed when she saw him, the thunder shaking the world outside. He was soaked from head to toe, and when he faced her, in the dark, his silver eyes reflected the dim light, just like a cat or some night creature. This frightened her enough for her to activate the defensive instinct.

“Ayami…-”

“Don't come any closer!” She pointed the sword at him, he retreated a stel “what did you come here to do, Kure Raian? Is it not enough what you did two months ago? Not enough for you? Did you come to finish the job and kill me for good?”

“If I wanted to kill you, you would have died the moment you opened the door” he tries to smile, the smile flashing in the dark, she gasped, but her hands firm on the Katana “But I knew it would be something like this…” he approached a step, and she brought the Katana toward his neck. He recoiled the step he took, suddenly well aware of the blade.

“Then go away,” she warned, “or I'll be forced to defend myself.”

“Defend?” he chuckled “defend from what?”

“Don't fool me, Devil, it's from you… don't come here, invade my house, just to say you're not attacking me. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. So please go away, and leave me alone.”

“Not until I sort out what I have pending,” he says firmly.

“Then go to hell!” She advances, and he widens his eyes, dodging at the last second of the thrust, after the side cut, making agile jumps back. He was fast, even for someone his size.

“Fuck, what's this, woman, calm down!” he said, while dodging two more blows “I come in peace to talk and that's what I get?”

“I don’t. Want. To talk!” She said with each blow, her eyes in fury “GO, AWAY!”

…

Raian could dodge, he could see her movements, even in the dark, he was made for that, after all. He came prepared to fight, as usual, but the problem was, he wasn't prepared for her to be wielding a real Katana and hadn't even studied the terrain first. He only realized his mistake, however, when he felt his back hit a wall, and her blade was unstoppable. The rip she gave his shirt drew a trickle of blood from his chest.

He widened his eyes at the light blow.

Holy crap.

It only grazed, but she wasn't kidding.

He caught the blade in time with his boot before it sliced him cleanly from bottom to top on the leg and shoved it hard, to not have his leg torn apart. He felt the razor-sharp blade cut something on his foot, but he was thankful it wasn't meat.

“Oh, so that's it” he said as she stood up “you really want to kill me.”

“I'm not afraid to use my sword” she assumed a fight position, her arms were firm.

“Great” he holds the hem of his own sword “Because I brought mine too.”

Her eyes widened when she finally saw what he had brought. Another Katana, a Yamanoito just like hers, almost like a twin. Maybe if he showed it in a way that was harmless, he could…

“I knew…” Her eyes glazed over in the Frenzy “I knew I couldn't trust you…” and she assumed a pose. The sword held high, and the center of gravity concentrated at the back of her body.

Yeeaaaaaa… That had the wrong effect. Oh Fuck. He should have taken the sword from his belt with the scabbard instead of drawing it. She thought she had no choice but to fight.

“We'll see” he assumes a fighting pose too. He hadn't wielded a real sword against a real swordswoman in a long time, but he would have to make do with what he had.

She attacked first, and if he hadn't been a Kure, he would have been cut in half across the shoulder, but he managed to defend himself with the weapon. The two Katanas sparkled as they met. Her eyes had lost their fire, turned to hot steel. Ayami no longer was answering for herself.

It was your fault for getting her into this, now bear it, Raian.

She manages to free both swords from the encounter and then prepares for another attack, and another, and another, all of them meeting with sparks and screeching swords. Up, down, left, up… one from the bottom up as her hair flew and her feet moved, nimble. She danced between moves with a grace he thought only existed in movies. Focused, in a trance.

Wonderful.

Like a prey that finally resolved to attack.

As much as Raian didn't really want to fight her, part of him was incredibly fascinated by the resourcefulness, and another part of him was completely aroused by the fight, a competitive and very strong part of him, so he couldn't help but smile.

“Hahahaaha” he laughed, while blocking another blow “I can see you now, Ayami… you really hide things from me…”

She didn't answer, the Frenzy wasn't meant to chit-chat. He barely dodged another blow. He knew that if he didn't stop her, he would be forced to attack to defend himself, and he could injure her, so it wouldn't be good.

“Ayami” he called “Ayami, stop, I-”

“Raaagh!” She interrupted him with a scream. Yeah, talking would be pointless. He has to move forward. That or there would be no end, not until she passed out from exhaustion. Also, in this state, Raian wouldn't be able to advance, she didn't give a break.

He had an idea, he didn't like it at all, but it was what he had. He growled in anger.

“Aaaargh Fuck it!” He dropped his sword, blocking a blow to the head with his arms. She wanted to hit him, so hit him!

But the blow did not come. He only heard the sound of his Katana hitting the floor with a metallic clang, and nothing else. And her breath was in gasps.

Would he be dead? He peeked through a gap between his arms. She had the blade millimeters from his skin, trembling. He looked into her face.

Face scrunched up in anger, teeth clenched in disgust…

But eyes brimming with tears.

“Why…?” She growled, her voice stammering “Why can't I…?” She struggled to bring the blade down, and almost succeeded, touching the skin of his arm and scratching, a trickle of blood pouring down from the cut. But it didn't go beyond that. “What did you do to me… Raian?! What spell is this?! What did you do?!”

“I didn't do anything” he takes a step back, away from her, but still in defense “you're the one who stopped.”

“Why did you come here?! Why do you decide to torture me like this?” Her voice chokes more, she starts to breathe with difficulty. Raian stands up, still watching the blade.

“I'm not torturing-”

“TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!” she screams.

“I CAME TO FUCKIN’ APOLOGIZE!” he yells back.

She widened her eyes, still with her guard up, but pulling the blade away.

“W-what?”

Raian grimaced in agony.

“Don't make me repeat it, woman!” He protests “Holy shit, I walked in through the front door, I even rang the fucking bell, for what?! If I had broken into the house through the window, it would have been all the same!”

“Well, that's what happens when someone humiliates someone in front of everyone, in the middle of breakfast, right after having a good moment, and after two months tries to talk like nothing happened. I won't accept it, now go away.”

“What? No, you'll have to listen to me…” He clenches his fists, starting to advance when she points the sword at him again.

“NO! You who will listen to me now, Kure Raian!” she growls, fierce “You are a man who was put to marry against your will, I know all that... But did you stop to consider my side?” she approaches very slowly “I was taken to your house, as a captive, not your fiancée, I didn't know anything about this marauder until your sister told me, I, being a woman, was extremely terrified. Even more so when they warned me about you and who you were, they talked about you almost as if you were a rapist or torturous monster. I felt like I was being sold to be able to free my family. Every day, I remembered them and stood firm, I didn't want to wed you for me to stab you, or bend your family to my feet, I wanted to survive! Do you know what this is, Raian? What would you do in my place?”

“I…”

“Of course you don't know, you're a psychopath who doesn't have an ounce of empathy for others, that's your biggest flaw. And every day, you had to make it harder, didn't you? With your pranks, your laughter, your cursing… and then you changed tactics, until you finally pretended to be nice to me…” she sobs, trying to hold back tears “and you stabbed me in the back, not me! You, instead of talking to me and the two of us working this out like two adults and leaving this pact in peace, even as friends, you had to summon the fifth-grade kid and make a scene!”

“So tell me… Why now…” she puts her sword to his neck “should I let my guard down, when I was clearly betrayed by you?”

He swallowed hard. Not for the sword, but for what she said. Was he a traitor? When was that? Since when…? His insides began to shake. This clearly wasn't right, and it pissed him off very much.

“I… didn't fake it.” He frowns, gripping the blade of her sword. “I didn't pretend to be nice to you…” he advances, using his strength to push her back and take the sword away from him “at no time I faked anything, Ayami.” He gripped the base of the sword with his other hand, a trickle of blood seeping from flesh torn by the edge. He stared at her, his abismal eyes making her shiver, now afraid of the slow but almost suicidal attack “I just wanted to make you give up, make you run, make you afraid of me. Because no one can stand being close to me. But you had to stay!” Raian grabs the sword and snatches it out of her hands “you had to play the brave, the rational girl, the good angel… you had to be the perfect girl that everyone loves, surrounding yourself with friends, all of them being my family, my allies, to fight against me” he throws his sword aside, shaking his bloody hands at that point “You had to prove yourself valuable, to prove being useful, to show me your strength” She tries to run away but he holds her arms, making her step back until she stumbles and sits on the bed “and… mostly… had to make me desire you like the madman that I am, with those eyes of helpless prey, luring me into a trap” he brings his face close to hers, she trying to pull away, now closing her eyes “You had to make me like you… hadn’t you?”

She stops, her eyes opening and widening, when she hears what he's said “You…? You're not teasing me, are you? Is this serious?”

He chuckles a little, but his smile wasn't malicious. “Why would you think I'd be here hunting you, Mousie?”

She didn't want to believe it… it wasn't possible… was it…?

“I… don't believe you…” the tears were coming back, she approached his face, almost growling, as he widened his eyes “you said the same thing, before turning back on your word… how can I trust that? How do I know you're not leading me into another trap?”

He stared at her, the two silver pupils looking back and forth at hers, practically lit in the darkness of the room, reflecting the light from a street lamp outside.

He sighs, letting his guard down a little.

“Ayami, I was honest that time, as I am being honest now” he says “But I was pissed at what I heard, so…”

“So you made that fuss.” She pouted.

“Yeeeaaah, anywaaay” He squints his eyes, grunting low, gripping her wrists a little harder. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't want you, Ayami. Understand this at once.”

She stared at him for a moment, still suspicious, but she didn't want to fight anymore, didn't want to ask any more questions…except one.

“Okay… okay, fearsome hunter… now you've got me…” she risks, still afraid, but something else was quickly taking its place, as she looked at him, suddenly shy “what are you going to do with me now?”

He chuckled, seeming to relax his shoulders minimally, and responded with his lips on hers, making her shiver, but in a good way.

Feeling her body soften from both relief and arousal, she simply gave up on resisting.

The real conversation would have to wait. She wanted him there, and now.

Next Chapter Here

#kengan ashura #kengan omega #kenganverse #heavybakery #devilsfood #kengan oc #fanfiction #raian kure #kure raian

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sapphicsalacity · 11 months

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11/7/23

I feel like I'm walking towards this new romantic chapter in my life.

But the past is still clinging to me.

As I take one step further, I get out of the bubble of liking them.

But that bubble keeps sucking at me, like a jellyfish, as if to stretch for as long as possible.

Until I'm too far away to reach.

Only then I'm free of it.

I look forward to going on a date with a girl this Sunday.

A part of me longs for the past instead of the future.

That part longs for held gazes, kissing, emotional vulnerability, laughs, mutually understood sarcasm, being with them.

Maybe it's like longing for an ex. Even though we never had a relationship to be considered an ex.

Maybe it's just me, because they were my first kiss. Maybe they've long forgot about me, moved on. I wouldn't blame them, because they told me they didn't want to go on dating. I would blame myself for being the only one that felt (or feels) anything. I'm scared of that. That it never meant anything to them. That I never meant anything to them. I was too scared to ask that question the last time we talked. I was scared of them saying it, indeed, never meant anything. I would have cried then and there.

But maybe they haven't forgot about me. Maybe they still think about me sometimes. Maybe some things in daily life remind them of me. A color, like bright yellow, like my clothes. Their sweater when I commented on it. The subway station, because we kissed there. The studio where we met. The sixth floor where we talked the last time.

I like to think all of it meant something to them. Because something inside tells me that they care about me.

I think they do.

But I can't hang onto the past anymore.

I am moving on.

I will have fun on Sunday. I will get to know someone new, that's exciting.

Something at the back of my head reminds me of the outcome.

Of being in a relationship and then bumping into them.

How I'll say it sometime in our conversation. When I randomly meet them again.

I'm scared that it won't mean shit to them.

I'm scared that it will mean shit to them.

Because I care about them. And I miss them.

I can envision their expression, looking down and nodding.

I'm not responsible for their emotions.

I'm only responsible for my life, my happiness.

I am okay without them. I still imagine me being happy with them.

Maybe I will never see them again.

Maybe I will see them years from now.

After I've come back from London.

Maybe I will run into their best friend.

We will talk casually as if we're old friends that catch up.

I will have had one or two relationships by that point.

At some point they're brought up.

How he understands why they didn't want to continue, but he had been excited for us.

How he saw that I cared about them.

How he wishes me well.

My imagination runs wild for these scenarios.

It doesn't help getting over them, getting rid of the jellyfish bubble clinging onto me.

But in a few months I'll have forgot about it.

In a few months I'll have forgot about them.

#sapphicsalacity #sapphic #wlw #lgbt #nonbinary #mine:text #wlnb

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uhhlucid · 2 years

Text

pairing: tanaka x oc

synopsis: Ayano Shimizu is the perfect student, the perfect daughter, and everyone looks up to her. Her only problem is Tanaka keeps playing with her heart.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: heartbreak lol i luv crushing hearts

type: fanfic

a/n: one of my old stories so might be some mistakes loool but enjoy^^

"Did you see that Ayano?" Ayano nodded, "That spike was soo cool. I know you'll do great in your game!" Kiyoko tried to hide her smile, "You guys make quite the cute couple. Where's Saori and her brother?" Ayano shrugged, "Probably at home arguing over who ate all the cereal." Ayano grabbed her backpack as their coach blew the whistle, signaling the end of practice.

Ayano stayed behind to help Kiyoko lock up. This resulted in her hearing Nishinoya and Tanaka drone on and on about how they were going to protect her at night.

Toshiaki came to save her however, since he was coming from baseball practice. "Hey Tanaka, hey Noya, what're you guys up to?" "Nothing much, just protecting our queen Kiyoko," Nishinoya responded with a proud smile.

Tanaka nodded in agreement. Toshiaki was well aware of Ayano's growing feelings for Tanaka and a part of him felt bad. He knew what it was like to be the second choice, and he didn't want his older sister having a similar experience.

"You guys want to walk home together?" Toshiaki decided on asking the other four, thinking it would result in a fun conversation. They agreed and headed towards Kiyoko's house first, considering it was the closet.

The five of them talked about their weekend plans and the upcoming games they all had. Toshiaki had a baseball game on Saturday so he would spend his time after lunch on the bus to Tokyo.

Tanaka and Nishinoya had the preliminaries next week, and Ayano had a swim meet Sunday before going to the arcade. She wasn't too overhyped for it, but she was pretty excited. If they won, they would get to go to nationals automatically.

Well that was if they got first place. If they didn't, second to ninth place have to compete in another preliminaries that was even bigger than the one they were going to. Ayano wasn't worried however, considering she currently held the record in their prefecture for having the fastest butterfly. Their team was even considered one of the top five youth teams in Japan.

After saying their goodbyes to Kiyoko, the others headed towards the train station. Nishinoya's house was right across the street from it so it would just be Ayano, Tanaka, and Toshiaki on the train. Ayano swiped her student id to get to the subway before entering and taking a seat. It was pretty empty except for other students who also appeared to be in sports.

"So are both of you coming to the game next week? You can ride on the bus with us." Toshiaki shrugged, "I'm not sure if I can miss Monday practice though. If there's anything Tuesday I can make it."

"And what about you Ayano?" "Yeah I'll ride with you guys if you want me to. Is it cool if I bring Saori and Kazuo?" "Sure if there's room on the bus." Tanaka waved as he exited the train, leaving Ayano and Toshiaki to head home together.

"You think Yuuka is home?" Toshiaki pointed in the driveway, "If Mom and Dad are home then Yuuka definitely is. Choir is over like an entire hour before sports are."

Before either of them could unlock the door, Yuuka opened it. "What took you guys so long?" Ayano shrugged and let Toshiaki answer, "Maybe because baseball is time consuming. Your totally coming to my game tomorrow right?"

"I don't know should I support my little brother?" She pulled both of them into a hug and shut the door behind them. "I'll be there. Such a shame Ayano can't go though." "I'm glad you have something to do on Sunday. I don't need your encouragement."

Toshiaki pried himself out of Yuuka's arms, "What do you mean? Her encouragements the best." "You don't exactly yell Go Ayano! at a swim meet." "I understand your point, but your foods getting cold," Yuuka pointed into the kitchen. Their parents were already cleaning up which meant they had taken way too long.

Ayano sat down and rushed to finish her food. She still had to do her homework and exams to study for.

Next week was exam week and the last week before summer break. She wanted to at least pass so she wouldn't be grounded. Ayano quickly changed into a sports bra and sweats and sat cross legged in her chair.

Friday and Saturday were when exams were held, and club activities were cancelled next week. Ayano checked her calendar and made sure to add in the change of events. She was excited for summer since she would have more time to see her friends and maybe ask Tanaka on a date.

Sighing, she put in her noise cancelling headphones and began her homework.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Saturday July 26th

"Great job, Ayano! Your time increased by 1.5 seconds." The girls swim team captain, Yuki Saito, congratulated her as she got out of the pool. "Thanks, but it's nothing too special. I've been trying to study more." "Studying is way more important. Remember we don't have to get first place." "I'm mainly worried about the relay. See you tomorrow, Yuki."

Ayano left Yuki and the others to lock up and headed towards Okazaki's house. She hoped she hadn't taken too long. Seeing as it was only six pm, she hurried to his house.

It was only a five minute walk and she stopped to get some snacks on the way. As soon as she knocked, Kimura answered the door with dripping wet hair. She ushered Ayano inside to the upstairs bathroom where Okazaki was desperately trying to do Saori's roots.

"Hey guys. Can I put the food in your room?" Okazaki nodded not taking his eyes off her head. Kimura stayed in the bathroom with the two and Ayano headed to his bedroom.

Having been to his house multiple times, she easily found his bedroom. He had even more band posters on the left side of his wall near his bed. Next to his bed was a shelf full of albums and below it was a mirror. On the right side, he had his desk and an ungodly amount of plants.

Ayano set her swim bag and backpack where everyone had set their stuff and set the food down on his desk. She joined the others in the bathroom were they were currently trying to dry Kimura's hair. Ayano chose to film the whole scenario and post it on her story.

After Kimura's hair was dry, she went back into the bedroom to pick a movie. "If we dry your hair faster, it will probably be a pastel pink instead of just pink," Ayano suggested.

"Are you sure that will work?" Okazaki looked skeptical. "It'll be some shade of pink and that's good enough for me. I just want to watch the movie." The other two shrugged and began drying her hair. "I have an idea, let me find some scissors." Saori ran off downstairs, her footsteps could be heard throughout the entire house.

Coming back out of breath, she handed the scissors to Ayano, "Put Okazaki's hair in a ponytail, but a really like small one. Then we can cut off the remaining hair. Or maybe put it in a bun." "Wouldn't it be uneven?" Okazaki questioned her.

Saori shook her head, "I can shape it up, I think. I watched my dad cut people's hair before." Ayano hesitantly took the scissors and removed the hair tie from her hair and tied up Okazaki's into a half bun half ponytail.

Saori gave her a thumbs up and Ayano began cutting. Once she was finished, she handed the scissors to Saori who began to shape it up. Ayano joined Kimura in the bedroom who surprisingly didn't have her hair in a bun. Ayano sat next to her and grabbed a bag of chips from the bag.

"What movie did you have in mind," Ayano asked the younger girl. "I don't know maybe a horror movie or something? I am pretty tired." "I guess everyones like that since we've been busting our ass over exams. It'll be over soon though and then-" Saori cut her off when she entered the room, "Summer break here we come! Introducing the new and improved, Kazuki Okazaki!" Saori sat down and Okazaki entered behind her striking poses.

His hair was no longer past his shoulder, but barely reached his shoulder. While he turned around, Ayano noticed his bangs hadn't been trimmed, but the back of his hair had. "And what do we call this style again?" Kimura asked, clearly not liking it. "Its called a wolf cut. Usually girls get it, but I tried it on Okazaki." "Yeah Kimura a wolf cut. Doesn't it look nice?" "I think you look like a werewolf." Okazaki threw a pillow at Kimura to muffle her voice.

"Ayano what do you think of it?" "It's unique I guess. You'll get every wolf in school for sure." "Alright I see you guys don't like it, but to me it looks great. Now what movie are we watching?" Saori joined Okazaki on his bed and grabbed one of his blankets. She laid on her tummy far away from him. "This escape room movie. It's about an escape room, but deadly." "Ooh I am so scared Saori. What's going to happen? We can't unlock the door?" Okazaki teased.

"This actually looks pretty scary," Kimura pointed out looking at the trailer. So the four of them agreed to watch the movie. They were all fast asleep before it could end however, and all you heard were the snores of four teenagers full of serotonin with colored hair.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Sunday July 27th

"Ayano you can't be late for your date." "Saori my swim meet literally ended five minutes ago and how did you get back here?" "Well Tanaka was asking for you. Plus, your captain let me in. Now put your clothes on and go talk to your boyfriend."

"We're not dating, Saori." "Yet." "I'll see you in like five minutes." Saori nods and leaves. Ayano looks through the pile of bags to find hers and slips off to the restroom to change. She changed grey crop top and black shorts. Her favorite grey and white jacket complimented the look as she laced her sneakers and put her swim suit in a plastic bag before putting it in her swim bag.

Waving to her team, she set out to find her friends. Saori, Tanaka, Kazuo, and Toshiaki were waiting for her in front of the main doors. "Hey Ms. Nationals," Toshiaki teased as Ayano came up to them. "I'm just glad we even placed," Ayano replied slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Of course you placed. You guys are the best in the whole prefecture," Tanaka said. Ayano felt her heart skip a beat at his compliment as the four of them headed to the train station

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lovelyirony · 5 years

Note

Made up fic title: i keep praying all day (all day long)// I'm Alive, Ain't That Enough?//you complete me// (I'll send more when i think of em)

Bruce Banner doesn’t really pray, hasn’t since he was around eleven and prayed to whoever would listen to take him away from his family. Then the police came and there was a funeral for his mother and he had to lie on the stand and say that his father was a very nice man, yes he was!

Prayer doesn’t solve anything. He supposes he knows that that is not the purpose, it’s supposed to help, but he just...doesn’t. It’s not the kind of help that he needs. Professional help is what he needs, but his insurance won’t cover it.

For a while, life was actually...okay. He was a grad student all alone at Culver, working on science projects. Working on that high of a level means you meet other people like you. You bond over having train-tracks for braces when you were in high school and relentless bullying by kids who thought they were better than you.

It’s kind of uncomfortable, how friendly people are when they know your circumstances. It’s weird that Bruce can ask someone if they just want to get lunch and there’s no double-edged sword hidden.

This is how he meets Betty, who smiles and laughs like she’s enjoying every minute of life. She is. He asks her about that, how she’s so kind and nice.

“If you can’t maintain kindness, how do you maintain anything else?” Betty asks. “I know what it’s like to have people make fun of me, and I don’t want that for anyone else.”

Bruce loves her for that. He loves her anyway, like the way her eyes light up when their team plays Trivial Pursuit on Sunday nights and she knows the answer to the obscure pop culture trivia from the seventies. He loves her when she asks for an obscene amount of sugar in her coffee and makes little snacks for the middle of the day.

He loves her when they’re lying in bed together and he can feel like his life is working out.

There’s a ring planned. He hasn’t told anyone about that. Ever.

Not since he got too confident and tried to harness a little power of God. Then he turned green, and that was enough.

He couldn’t love Betty. He wouldn’t let her try to be nice and sacrifice what her life should be for what it would be.

She wouldn’t like that he’s making that decision for her, but she would also probably say he was right.

So he’s alone in the world. The government keeps trying to find him, but so far they’ve had no luck. They’re starting to get frustrated, and Ross can’t keep his task force on for very much longer.

It’s sometimes fun, Bruce thinks. Sight-seeing with all this adrenaline and fear in his system. He finally makes it to Rome. He told Betty he always wanted to see the artwork.

She told him about the chemical analysis work she did, and the little coffee shop underneath a tiled building that served the best espresso she’s ever had.

He doesn’t find it. He’s not sure if that means anything. But he sits on a balcony and watches the sun rise and watches a guy give him a look that’s a bit too odd for Italy, and he knows he has to leave.

Not a lot happens, until he makes it back to New York. Or rather, a redhead spy convinces him to help find a magic cube and promises that the Hulk isn’t the primary reason for having him on-board.

On a gigantic, air-borne ship with pressurized air pressing in all around. Fucking great.

He meets new people. Natasha Romanoff, known as Black Widow. She looks at him like he’s a brand new species, nearly. He’s seen that look before. But he also thinks that it’s different, because she can’t kill him and it’s known that Black Widow can kill just damn near about everyone.

Captain America, a man so out of his depth that he can’t help but be the odd one out. He looks at everything and he’s confused, maybe by all the buildings and people and the fact that nothing is the same and it won’t be. Ever.

Not gonna lie, Bruce is kind of glad that for once it’s not him that’s the Very Odd One Out.

Tony Stark is a headache and a half, but Bruce finds himself not minding that so much. Tony doesn’t give a fuck about Hulk.

Bruce knows why.

It’s not because he’s a billionaire who thinks he’s immortal. No, Tony Stark knows that his mortality is unbearable.

But he’s also of the type that would give his life if you casually asked him to. He smiles the way Bruce does when he needs to just get through something. It’s painfully familiar.

Bruce thinks that maybe Tony Stark, if he had been at Culver, would’ve been invited to Trivial Pursuit Sundays.

And then Thor. A giant man--a god, some say, but Bruce isn’t really keen on actually saying that--who is...different.

He handles Hulk like a damned pro. He’s not easy to take down. And Bruce is a bit interested in his perspective of things, if they all survive the imminent alien invasion that’s set to take place.

He really wishes he could get drunk. Or maybe just slightly buzzed. It would make this transformation shtick so much easier.

But after everything, turns out they’ve won. Hulk is even tired. This has been the first challenge for him since...ever.

They eat food together at a restaurant that really should be closed, but he’s too tired to care about it and sits next to Tony, who’s still contemplating his own “small death” and a guy named Clint, who is apparently very good at shooting things with a bow and arrow.

He catches Thor’s eyes, and he smiles.

“You did well, Banner.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Because, you know. Eloquence. That’s exactly what Bruce has when faced with the king of Asgard and supposed god of thunder.

But he doesn’t have to worry too much about that when he hops into Tony’s ridiculous-and-loud-sporty-vehicle and heads to a lab.

“It’s gonna be Candy Land, trust me,” Tony says.

“I don’t trust you, but I do trust that,” Bruce says with a laugh. Tony grins.

“I think I’m gonna like you hanging around.”

Bruce then figures out that Tony’s heart is about the size of the gigantic tower he’s built, because Bruce doesn’t have to go apartment-hunting. Or pay rent.

“I can handle it,” Tony says. “Just try not to hulk out in the living room, there’s a custom art piece that was gifted to Pepper. She’s fond of it, but I hate it. So I guess in a roundabout way, as long as Pepper thinks that it’s an accident, feel free to destroy it.”

“Noted,” Bruce says, bewildered. Tony talks extremely fast, hands making gestures to emphasize certain points. If he wasn’t so dedicated to inventing and building the future as the present, Bruce is almost certain that he would be quite a celebrated actor.

After some time, it seems the Avengers drift together again. Natasha shows up for breakfast one morning, as if she’d been there the whole time.

“Pass the preserves, Bruce,” she says. He does and goes to find Tony to ask when she got here.

Tony yelps, rushes up, and scolds Natasha for not telling him.

“I’m not done painting your room!”

“What color?”

“Olive green.”

“Oh my god, no.”

“It suits you! Pepper approved it and everything! So did Bruce!”

“I did?”

“Well, not really. I think you were in a science-induced haze and said yes to everything I asked. You said your favorite era was ‘yes’ so I thought that meant you liked all of them.”

“Oh. It’s the seventies.”

“Figures,” Natasha says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bruce questions.

“I guarantee all you have in your wardrobe is maybe four casual t-shirts and maybe one pair of jeans.”

“I have two pairs of jeans, thank you very much.”

“A man full of surprises,” she remarks, smiling coyly. “Tony, Clint’s coming at the end of the week. He’s finishing up a mission in Iran. Something about tracking down a woman for a gift.”

“Well, best of luck to him and all that,” Tony says. “Do you think he’d liked striped pillows?”

“Vertical or horizontal?” Bruce asks.

“Horizontal. I’m not a heathen.”

“Tread carefully,” Natasha says. “More than two is a no-go.”

“Got it. Jarvis, be an absolute dear and put that in my notes?”

“It should be common sense, Sir,” the AI responds, a bite of sass. Bruce smiles. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that.

Clint trips out of the elevator, says he’s finding a bed, and Bruce doesn’t see him again until he goes to his room to change into one of the four casual t-shirts that Natasha says he has and finds the archer on his bed.

“Well okay,” Bruce says. “Might as well.”

Clint comes down for dinner and announces that Bruce has a very comfy bed, but should invest in more pillows.

“You have, like, two.”

“I don’t really sleep with pillows.”

“You don’t?” Natasha asks, surprised. “That’s...bad.”

“Why? Can’t handle that I don’t require pillows?” he teases.

Steve comes next. He brings a nice old-fashioned suitcase, the kind that begs for stickers to be plastered all over it. He doesn’t have any, not yet. He tells Bruce that New York has changed, although the only real thing that he truly hates about it so far is the subway system.

“Used to just get on,” Steve grumbles. “And security wasn’t as tight.”

“You still manage to get around it?” Bruce asks, amused.

Steve’s cheeks turn red and they find out that “America’s Darling” hasn’t gotten a MetroCard, doesn’t like paying for it. He’s been finding different areas under construction or charmed certain officers into letting him pass.

“Please tell me you used your lack of technological information,” Tony begs. Steve blinks.

“No, I haven’t. But I’ll use that for next time! That’s a good idea!”

They fool Steve into trying wasabi that night. It’s the hardest Bruce has heard Natasha laugh.

A couple of months go by. They get comfortable with each other, close in a way that Bruce has never been. Clint gets him snacks without even asking. Just comes up to his room, sets the hummus and pita chips on the bed and asks if they can watch the cool documentaries.

Then Thor comes back. He’s been dealing with a lot of ruling technicalities, although his father has regained strength.

“He seems more active,” Thor says, grinning. “I think he’s going to try and interact with the community more.”

“That’s nice,” Bruce says.

Thor is...different. Not just because he pretends he doesn’t know what a microwave is because he wants to hear Steve’s rantings all about how “the microwave is the absolute best thing the twenty-first century has done, are you kidding me?! Who cares about anything else?”

Not just because he speaks with a lilted accent and sees with eyes that are older than they actually know. He talks about meeting humans thousands of years ago, talks about how no one could have imagined what would come for the future.

It’s because Bruce pays more attention to him. To his arms, the way he says things, and everything else.

But it’s fine. Things are fine. He’s focusing on doing some of his lab work and trying to make Tony see that a Rocky Horror Picture Show movie night would be beneficial to the team.

(And not just because he bet Natasha forty bucks that he could get Steve to dress up as Dr. Frank-N-Furter for Halloween, but mostly because of that.)

The days get shorter, the nights get longer, and the weather is colder. Bruce can’t say he really likes it. He’s been living in the cold a long time. Tony, arguably, handles it the worst.

“I have decided I think we should all move to the west coast,” Tony announces, shedding four of the six layers he’s put on himself.

“And what, become the West Coast Avengers? Sounds lame as fuck,” Clint says with a snort. “Who would want to make that?”

Bruce nods.

“You’ll be fine, Tony. Get some blankets and some hot cocoa.”

Thor is the Avenger who loves the season the most, arguably. Steve’s more a Christmas fanatic, and has been blasting Bing Crosby ever since the end of Thanksgiving.

(Natasha has been a Christmas Music Purist, and this was getting on her nerves until December first, when she rolled into the kitchen blasting “All I Want for Christmas is You.”)

But Thor loves seeing snow, loves walking out to get a hot chocolate and seeing the city during the cold. He thinks the jackets are intriguing.

He also doesn’t really need one. He just wears a long-sleeve sweater and calls it good.

Bruce thinks he looks great.

“You want to get some hot chocolate with me?” he asks Bruce one afternoon. It’s been slow today, and Bruce hasn’t been able to focus on anything.

“Why not?” Bruce says with a shrug. “Let me get my stuff on.”

Bruce prepares well for the trip. He gets his boots on, a heavy jacket, and a hat and gloves. Thor smiles.

“I like the hat, Bruce.”

“Thank you,” Bruce says. “Present from a cousin.”

They walk out into the freezing cold, and Bruce can feel his nose immediately turn red from the air blowing wildly. It’s the kind of cold that cuts right to your bones.

“I wish I was like you,” Bruce says, sighing. “It’s too cold.”

“I like it,” Thor says. “Reminds me of how much my brother and I loved the cold. We had a holiday during this time as well. The cold.” Bruce nods.

They get to the shop, frequented by over-stressed college students and a pair of old men playing checkers in the corner, books tossed aside.

Bruce orders cocoa with Thor, and they sit down.

Thor is a surprisingly good conversationalist. Well, not really surprising. Bruce has seen him mingle at parties, able to talk to anyone with no sense of nerves. But what he is surprised about is that Thor can follow along with the work he’s doing, even going to suggest his own theories or knowledge from Asgard.

“When did you get an interest in all this?” Bruce asks. Thor smiles.

“I have to be well-rounded to assume the throne. To not be knowledgeable is to be a foolish king. But I like knowing about life and it’s creation. Our scientists are also very...interesting. They make the best drinks.”

“Chemists here,” Bruce responds, laughing. “I had a couple of friends like that.”

Bruce learns about Asgardian drinking games, the kinds of food they have for their holidays, and what Thor misses most.

“I do like earth, however,” Thor says. “Your people are less--oh damn, I can’t think of the word.”

“That’s okay,” Bruce says. “I get it.”

And he does, to a certain extent. Thor grew up as a member of the royal family, his father a legend even to other people.

Hot cocoa trips become a regular occurrence, until it starts to get a bit repetitive and Bruce offers to show Thor some breakfast meals that are good, like peanut butter and banana-cinnamon toast.

They cook for each other. Bruce shows him some meals.

The thing that makes Bruce realize Everything is when Thor brings some kind of fruit from Asgard.

“You have to try this,” Thor says excitedly. “It’s the best fruit ever.”

And Bruce realizes that he loves Thor. That he wants to take him to dinner, to kiss him breathless, and to go on romantic dates that involve candlelight and soft laughter and and and--

Oh shit.

It feels complete, somehow.

Bruce smiles at Thor, and thanks him.

“This is special,” Bruce murmurs. “I appreciate that you went all the way there.”

“No big deal,” Thor says, smiling. “Not when I care about you so much.”

There’s something else there, but Bruce thinks his bias might be showing. He brings Thor into a hug.

“Well unfortunately for you, I have no magic ability to summon myself to any other part of the country to get you a specialty, so making black bean soup tonight will have to do.”

“My favorite!” Thor cheers.

“Exactly why I’m making it, a favorite for a favorite,” Bruce teases.

Thor smiles at him, and Bruce knows that there’s no going back.

He helps chop the celery and strain everything for the soup. Bruce hums to an old song that Thor sometimes sings on rainy days, when everything is gloomy and comforting.

“You hum beautifully,” Thor says, sweeping the vegetables into the pot. “I enjoy hearing it each time you cook.”

“Then I’ll cook more often,” Bruce says, smiling. “I think Pepper requested a chicken dish from us tomorrow.”

“Who knew we’d be such a great cooking team?” he teases.

Bruce turns on music, and Thor sways to the beat. He likes the older music more, including the old-school love ballads.

It’s Nat King Cole, one of Bruce’s favorites.

He sings “L-O-V-E” in the most ridiculous voice and prances about the kitchen, and this is what this song is for.

They dance together, soup be damned. Bruce laughs as his socked-feet slide on the floor, pushing his body more towards Thor’s.

The song ends with Thor dipping Bruce low, breathing only a bit faster. He looks up, and decides to go for it.

“You gonna kiss me?”

Thor is an excellent kisser, Bruce decides.

“Been wanting to do that for ages,” Thor says. “I was actually going to ask if you wanted to go on a date Friday.”

“I would love that,” Bruce says. “What time? I have a meeting at lunch.”

“Dinner then,” Thor decides. “The burger place we went to a couple weeks ago? You liked their sauces.”

“Ooh, good choice,” Bruce says, smiling. “I would love that.”

They smile at each other as they dish out the soup. It’s nice, honestly. Thor lingers a little bit closer, and Bruce holds on for a bit longer.

He may not believe in prayer. But he doesn’t need to, not when he has this family that’s come together and a love that’s unmatched.

#holy SHIT this is long #i spent all day on this one oops #lovelyirony writes #thorbruce #betty ross #bruce banner #thor #avengers as a family #natasha romanoff #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #listen they BOND okay

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name-me-regret · 4 years

Text

The Hoodie Borrower - Chapter 10

The Hoodie Borrower Chapter 10: Peter’s Hoodie

Read it on AO3 here.

Summary: Harry is stirring up some trouble, but it’s all for Peter’s well-being... and maybe a bit for his amusement.

- - - -

“I'll face my fear of the evening Once I get used to this feeling I can't sleep That's when you're torn away from me While I'm dreaming I feel you leaving

I'll face my fear of the sunrise When I wake up with your hand inside mine It's hard to say good morning When it's followed with goodbye...”

~Eyelids - Pvris

- - - -

|Last Sunday|

Peter hurried down the steps of the subway station, dodging people instinctively due to his spider sense. By now he had a really good grasp of it and at times he had to force himself not to react, like when Flash shoulder checked him. Even if these days he wasn’t as harsh as he had once been. Not since... Well, he didn’t like to think of those times.

He barely was able to make it inside the train before the doors closed, making sure not to use any of his abilities due to there always being cameras down there. Peter had learned his lesson on always knowing where there were cameras after being found by Mr. Stark.

After a ten minute train ride, he climbed the stairs to the station right outside Central Park. Peter wasn’t sure why he was meeting Harry here, but he’d messaged him and said for them to meet at around noon by the baseball fields. It was almost noon now and had wore an MU baseball cap, because he was a dork and loved all things Monsters Inc. It was a bit chilly even now and getting colder, so he had worn blue jeans and a long sleeved dark grey shirt.

He had thought about a hoodie, but it felt nice out today, despite his inability to thermoregulate. Peter really hoped the weather didn’t take a sudden turn for the worse, which is why he’d checked and rechecked his weather amp several times. It was just that he had the worse luck and it was likely that the weather would get cold and he would be stuck without a jacket or hoodie.

Peter looked around the ballfields, wondering why Harry had wanted to meet here. Actually, he really wasn’t sure how Harry looked like now. He just remembered that he had brown curly hair inherited from his mom, and he had been slender and a bit pale. Also, that he had been super rich, and still was.

He’d always been the more athletic of the two, having played a bit with their peewee baseball team before moving away. He’d always felt a tremendous loss ever since Harry had left, and anger as well afterwards. Peter wanted to know why Harry hadn’t told him he was leaving, hadn’t at least said goodbye. Now here he was 5 years later, and Harry was suddenly back.

“Pete!” he heard someone call his name.

His head lifted and he saw someone hurrying over to him, slender and taller than him, with his brown hair pinned back, but a few curly strands falling out. And holy shit, he was hot.. like, Peter was having a bi awkening and here was his estranged elementary school best friend, and he was hot and Peter was in trouble.

“H-hey, Harry,” he greeted, cursing his voice as it cracked nervously.

‘Fuck, get it together, Peter. This is your best friend from fourth grade!’

He grunted as the taller boy practically bowled him over in a hug, feeling his face start to heat up. Harry pulled back with a wide grin, as he looked him over. “You look good Pete.” He released his arms and then grabbed him by the face, turning his head from one side and then to the other. “Yup, same dorky Peter Parker I remember,” he laughed.

Peter scowled and batted his hands away. “Rude,” he grumbled. And then he looked up at him, squinting a bit to try and see the same Harry he remembered from fourth grade. He could just see him there, since Harry had lost any baby fat leftover, and he was definitely taller. Hell, he was at least Harley’s height, so 6 or 6’1 at the most.

“You got tall,” Peter blurted out. He wasn’t short at 5’8, but compared to Miles, Harley and now Harry, he felt those few inches on height they all had on him.

Harry laughed, his dimples showing up on his cheeks, and he remembered them very distinctly. Peter felt nostalgic, for those days when things were more simple. And sure his parents had died just before he had met Harry, but he was too young to remember a time when it wasn’t him, May and Ben. Harry had been there almost from the start, had been the only one to see the change in him after... Skip. He had been the only one outside of his aunt and uncle that he’d told what had happened.

So, having Harry back in his life was a big deal for Peter.

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Hey, Osborn, you’re up!”

Harry and Peter looked to where they were having a baseball game. Only now did he notice that Harry had the same baseball jersey as the others, and that it was a familiar jersey.

“Is that a Midtown Tech Jersey?” Peter asked in confusion. The grin he gave Peter didn’t bode well. “What did you do?” He remembered the hijinks that Harry used to get them into, mostly because he’d been a privileged little shit that thought he could get away with anything. Then Peter had been dragged into his craziness and his aunt had put the fear of God into the eight year old. He hadn’t changed right away, but after two years, his Aunt May proved to be a miracle worker, and Peter (and especially their teachers) had been grateful.

“Why Pete, I’m offended. All I did was get a scholarship. I would think you’d be happy for me,” Harry said dramatically, to which Peter rolled his eyes. It was almost like Harry had never left, honestly.

“Yes, I’m so sad for how unfair life is to you,” he snarked back. “A handsome, rich privileged white boy.”

Harry lifted a hand to his chest. “You think I’m handsome? Well, now we have to get married and have smart, rich, white privileged babies,” he said as he grabbed him. “Come on and give us a kiss then.”

Peter laughed as he shoved Harry’s face away as he tried to make good on his promise to kiss him. He wasn’t sure if he was serious or just fucking with him as he usually was. It was hard to believe that he had also been super protective of him when it came to Flash. Peter wondered how Harry would react when he figured out that Flash was going to Midtown and still a bit of a jerk.

After he told his team that he was out for the rest of the game, Harry dragged Peter to have lunch, which he insisted he pay for.

“So, who’s Harley?”

Peter choked on the forkful of food he’d been in the process of swallowing. “Wuh-cough-why are you asking?”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

He was glad he wasn’t eating anything this time as he barked out a nervous laugh. “W-what?! Of course not!” Peter scowled at Harry who smirked at him with an eye waggle. “He’s sorta like a fellow intern at Stark Industries.”

Harry paused as he’d been about to shove a forkful of pasta in his mouth. “Wait, you’re an intern at Stark Industries?” When Peter nodded, Harry shook his head. “The sound of betrayal never sounded so close. My best friend an intern at my dad’s rival company,” he sighed, shaking his head. Then he snatched the plate of cake that Peter had ordered. “I’m taking this as punishment.”

Peter gave an embarrassing squawk as he tried to pull back the piece of double chocolate cake. “Harry, come ooon!” Peter whined with a pout, hoping to convince him with his supposed puppy dog eyes. May attested to him having them, but he had never been convinced and to get double chocolate cake was a good enough reason to try it now. “Please, can I have it?”

Harry cut a bite of the cake as he hummed as if thinking about it, and then turned it toward him as he reached out toward his mouth. “Alright, now say ‘ah’,” Harry said with a smirk on his handsome features that was as charming as it was devious. Honestly, Peter wondered how he was friends with this jerk.

“N-No way,” Peter sputtered, feeling his face starting to heat up. He didn’t want to be fed like he was a baby, or worse still, like this was a date. This was NOT a date... right??

Geez, he was freaking out now.

Harry shrugged as he turned the spoon back toward his own mouth. “Fine, more for me then,” he said, lips opening to eat the piece.

“Nonono, wait!” Peter exclaimed, lifting his hand out as if to stop him from eating it. “I... I hate you,” he groaned as he opened his mouth.

Harry grinned and turned it back toward Peter, feeding him the piece of cake. As he did, he lifted his phone in his other hand, snapping a picture before Peter could stop him. “Now this will make the best lock screen picture.”

“Harry!”

The taller boy just laughed, refusing to delete the picture no matter how many times Peter demanded he do so.

- - - -

Ned and MJ in their respective homes were baffled when they received a friend request from someone named THE Harry Osborn.

- - - -

|Present day (Wednesday morning)|

Peter huffed as he got a message from Harry, telling him they were having breakfast and to meet him in the upper east end of Manhattan. If he hadn’t been Spider-Man, his aunt might have likely forbidden him to go all the way out there. As it was, he decided to swing over since he woke up late and he knew Harry would be a jerk about it.

“Oh, after so long of being apart, you’re late to our second outing. For shame, Parker,” he mimicked as he swung from one skyscraper to the next one.

’Did you said something, Peter?’ KAREN asked him in her voice that always soothes him to hear it. Now, however, it made him jump since he wasn’t expecting it. Luckily, he didn’t let go of the web. Of course he’d catch himself, but he didn’t want Mr. Stark to be alerted of his heart rate elevating rapidly.

He waved at a few civilians that yelled his name, seeing as they filmed him swinging past, and knew he’d have to be careful that no one filmed him unmasking. The last thing he needed was someone revealing his secret identity to the world. So, he crawled down the side of a water tank when a huge black cloud covered the sun, threatening rain. He hopped down, checked with his enhanced senses for any cameras, and then pressed the symbol on the front of his suit to loosen it.

Peter looked down on the loose suit and thought maybe he should ask Mr. Stark about changing the deactivation switch to something less obvious. He didn’t want to be in a fight and have the bad guy get a lucky shot on and deactivate his suit accidentally. Peter shook his head as he quickly got his clothes on after shoving the suit inside his backpack, all the way on the bottom of the bag, imagining someone purposely hitting the switch during a fight. He was only grateful that the mask wasn’t attached to the suit.

He pulled on his clothes quickly, shivering from the cool air and was so glad he’d thought to bring a hoodie. As he pulled it out, he blinked as he recognized it as the one Miles had lent him a few months ago. Maybe he should return it to him, since he was pretty sure exchanging clothes was a part of dating, and he was definitely not dating Miles.

Well, he had sort of gone on dates with him, even if they’d been sneakily set up by their friends, so they were unofficial dates. Peter hadn’t purposefully gone on dates with him, hadn’t meant to lead him on...

‘Whoa, Parker, calm down,’ he chastised himself, pulling on the hoodie that didn’t smell like Miles anymore as it had the first time he’d put it on. At the time he had thought it smelled nice, so did that mean he thought Miles smelled nice?

“Shit,” he grumbled, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder. He looked around a moment and when he didn’t see anyone, or any cameras filming the alley below, he hopped down to the ground floor from the four story building with ease. Before he’d had trouble making the jump, but he had practiced over and over again, resulting in many bruises and a contusion or two that hurt almost as much as a broken bone, but he’d done it.

Peter hurried out of the alleyway and down the street to where they were supposed to meet, in front of a coffee shop. He wondered why they were meeting in a coffee shop and not a regular restaurant. Hell, he’d be satisfied with some biscuits from McDonald’s. Although, with his new metabolism, he knew it’d take about eight or ten of them to satisfy him. Damnit, he hated being so poor.

He spotted Harry in front of the coffee shop, holding a cup carrier with two coffees (he assumed) and a big bag filled, hopefully, with some muffins of some kind. Peter smelled them before he got close enough for a normal human to smell them and felt his mouth start to water. He’d ate some pop tarts on the way over (and he felt accomplished that he hadn’t dropped either of them on the swing here), but that was a drop in the large bucket that was his stomach. The increased metabolism was the worse part of his powers, well, that and his inability to thermoregulate.

“Hey, what’re you doing? I thought we were eating inside?” Peter said, itching to get into that bag. He could smell the tantalizing aroma even more now, and he’d been right, they were muffins. Also, judging by the size of the bag, there had to be at least eight in there.

“Nah, we’re going somewhere else. Here, hold this,” he said as he handed him the coffees while he took out his phone, to Peter’s utter disappointment. He’d have opened the bag and devoured a muffin immediately. Although, now that he had the coffees in his hand, he realized one smelled strongly of chocolate and caramel.

Peter immediately drank of that one, not even bothering to ask if it was his first. The first sip was heaven and tasted so much of chocolate and caramel, and some cinnamon, which he wasn’t expecting. He was seriously about to have a chocolate orgasm, and he wouldn’t be able to face Harry again.

“Good?”

Peter lifted his face to look at the taller boy, scowling as he saw that smirk again. “I’m glad I made the right choice. From yesterday, you’re obviously a chocoholic, and I remember chocolate milk was your favorite drink in elementary. So, I figured you’d love a chocolate caramel frappuccino with a dash of cinnamon.”

A car suddenly pulled up to the curb, and the driver hopped out, jogged around to open the door. Harry flashed the driver a thankful smile before he slid into the back, and Peter quickly got in when the driver gave him a questioning look. The last time he’d been taken by a driver was when Happy had driven him to the compound, so he felt super awkward sitting back there with Harry.

Finally, Harry handed him the bag, taking his own coffee, and Peter practically tore open the bag. He was disappointed when there were only four muffins inside, but they were huge. Also, Harry only ate one, so that left three for them. “Geez, Pete, you eat like a person twice your size.”

Peter’s mouth was stuffed full of the second muffin, so he could only shrug. When he was finished with the third one, and most of the frappuccino, did he finally notice that he had no idea where they were going. “Uh, so, where are we going?”

Harry had been sipping his coffee, one leg crossed over the other, and he looked far older than he really was. Harry was almost a year older than him, but due to having an overprotective mother, he’d started school a year late. So, while he was almost seventeen now, he looked more like he could be twenty. Harry didn’t dress like a teenager, so that was probably why he looked older.

He set his coffee cup on the drinks stand between them, the backseat obviously expanded for better comfort. “Well, I figured it was time to meet my rivals, don’t you think?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

Peter was confused. “What? R-Rivals?,” he sputtered, feeling his face starting to heat up.

Before he could say anything more, Harry looked out the window. “Oh, look, it’s snowing,” he commented. Peter looked outside, and sure enough, it was snowing very lightly.

“Huh, not rain then,” Peter muttered, since he had thought the cloud earlier had been a rain cloud. He really should have checked the forecast before he left. Peter wasn’t looking forward to swinging back in this, and might play it safe and take the normal way back, maybe. His inability to thermoregulate would likely force his hand.

“Well, you’re gonna need a better coat.” He pulled a bag from the other seat by opening the top part of it. From it he pulled out what appeared to be a fuzzy brown hoodie, there was no mistaking it since he could sort of see that it had a hood, but it zipped up from the front like the one he was wearing.

“Here, I bought you this,” Harry suddenly said with that grin he was starting to distrust, since it was devious. Well, it did look pretty warm, so he took it and put it on. Iit was big enough to go over Miles’s hoodie, so that was a plus. Peter sighed in relief as he started to warm up, since he hadn’t noticed that he’d been shivering slightly.

They pulled up to Central Park a few mins later, and it was starting to snow a bit harder. It didn’t seem to dissuade the people at the park, since there were several of them out and about. As they got out, Harry’s driver pulled out umbrella from the truck that he handed to Harry. The younger man opened it and held it out.

“You’ll have to come a bit closer to share this,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

Peter rolled his eyes and pulled up his hood. “I thought that’s why you got me this?”

Harry’s top lip twitched up as if he wanted to smile, but he didn’t. “Just get under here, Parker. Stop being stubborn,” he said, dragging the smaller boy closer. Peter grumbled but let him do as he wanted, practically pressed to his side and concentrating on trying to keep from spontaneously combusting on the spot.

So, maybe he was attracted to boys. He just had to remember that this was Harry, his friend. He was off limits despite his sudden gay panic (or bisexual panic?). Peter had to keep his head...

Harry wrapped his arm around his waist and Peter’s thought process went out the window as an undignified squeak left him. “Harry,” he grumbled, feeling the heat in his cheeks like a tingling. “C-can you let-“

“Peter?”

Peter‘s head lifted, and was confused (and horrified) to see Miles of all people standing in front of them. Behind him, MJ and Ned were glancing over his shoulder with twin expressions of amusement that led him to believe that they were somehow responsible for this.

“Well, this looks like a party,” a southern voice drawled behind them. Peter whipped around, pulling away from Harry in the process, and saw Harley there. “Here I thought you said you weren’t gay, pretty Peter?” Harley inquired with a raised eyebrow, lips quirking into a smirk. “Nice ears by the way.”

Miles and the other two were busying looking at Peter’s head, having noticed the ears on the hood of the hoodie he was wearing. When he’d turned around to look at Harley, they’d noticed that it also had a round little tail at the end of the coat. All and all, they guessed it was supposed to be a bear hoodie.

“Oh good, you’re all here,” Harry said, yanking a protesting Peter against him. Peter had been busying feeling the offending ears that he couldn’t avoid the other boy’s hand (never mind his Spidey sense, since he didn’t see Harry as a threat), so stumbled into him, causing the taller boy to wrap his arm around his waist. “I’m back in town, so I’ve decided to come out and confront my rivals.” He ducked down and kissed a shocked Peter on the cheek. “Peter’s mine, so neither of you can have him.”

“Harry!” Peter shrieked, his face and cheeks flushed red.

MJ had whipped out a camera almost as soon as they’d walked up, so got the whole thing on video. Miles looked ready to lunge at Harry (and might have if Peter wasn’t currently pressed to his side), and Harley was grinning madly as he made eye contact with Harry.

“Oh, you’re on, city boy,” the southern boy said, brushing off snow flakes from his hair and coat. Harley had barely known Peter two days, but he already liked what he had seen. He wasn’t going to let some friend from Peter’s past win. Also, now that he’d gotten a good look at Miles, he had to admit that it’d be tough going, since he was good looking as well. He was confident that he’d win though, since Miles didn’t seem a straightforward kind of guy, and Harley was.

“I’m not going to lose,” Miles growled, forgetting that Peter didn’t know he had been trying to ask him out. He had to work hard at keeping his powers in check, seeing as some of the snow started to melt from his venom strike forming in his hands. The Afro-Latino boy knew it’d be wrong to attack someone that had no powers, since Miles had decided he wanted to be a superhero. He wondered what Peter would think if he knew he could potentially be a hero. Would it increase his chances?

He quickly forgot about it, since he wanted to win Peter over because he liked him, not because he had superpowers. And Miles was serious about not losing, and knew it was time to stop being subtle and just come right out and say he wanted to date Peter.

Ned, meanwhile, was trying hard not to burst into giggles as he watched his friend stutter a reply. “You think any of them realize that Harry’s straight, and he’s just fucking with them?”

MJ snorted. “I doubt it, and I’m not going to make it easy on them.” She zoomed in on Peter’s face, a smirk on her lips. “Besides, this is much too hilarious to ruin.” She put two fingers to her mouth and gave a whistle. “Hey, how about a group picture?”

“Michelle, stop trying to record my misery!” Peter whined. The other three ignored him and stood in a row, Harley, Harry, Miles, and Peter in front of Harry. He was short enough that they could see over his head, which MJ found even funnier.

It seemed Harry was the latest addition of the Loser’s club, and MJ felt like this the start of a beautiful friendship.

“Dude! Why is everyone here? Is that Penis Parker?!” Another voice chimed in. MJ was hard pressed not to giggle when she saw Harry spot Flash, brown eyes narrowing on the bully, since it would ruin her reputation. She really wanted to as all three boys turned to look at Flash at the derogatory nickname.

Ned has no qualms as he giggled madly, eager to see the bully (who had admittedly backed off some) get what was coming to him.

“Are those ears??”

The Samoan boy was so glad Harry Osborn had come back to New York. Although, he wasn’t sure if Peter felt the same way after this. Well, he’d come around.

Maybe.-

- - - -

Ending Notes: Finally, the end! I can’t say I didn’t want to write more of this story. However, I knew if I let it get away from me, it’d wind up a monster and I had only planned to have ten chapters. Harry just added more drama at the end than I was willing to write out. Honestly, my version of Harry is such a showboat, and loves to torment his best friend, even if he would pummel anyone else trying to do the same. Hope y’all enjoyed this story, I know I loved writing it.

#Peter Parker #Harry Osborn #Miles Morales #Harley Keener #Michelle Jones #Ned Leeds #The Hoodie Borrower #Harry Osborn being a little shit #Peter Parker and Harry Osborn as childhood friends #fanfiction #Hoodie Borrower #Peter Parker & Harry Osborn #Peter Parker & Miles Morales #Peter Parker & Harley Keener #regret writes

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