#so you serenade him while tending to his wounds

[johnslittlespoon]

– blue days, all of them gone...

[littlelovelyspiderling]

Meeting The Real You (Chapter 12)

Chapter 1 -- Chapter 2 -- Chapter 3 -- Chapter 4 -- Chapter 5 -- Chapter 6 -- Chapter 7 -- Chapter 8 -- Chapter 9 -- Chapter 10 -- Chapter 11 -- Chapter 12

AO3 story link

word count: 34,203 (😳)

CONTENT / TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF SUICIDE. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ PAST THE WORDS "YOU'RE THE BEST" (HIGHLIGHTED GREEN IN STORY) NEAR THE END OF THE CHAPTER IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO OR CANNOT READ THAT KIND OF CONTENT

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“So…regarding all those incredibly gay songs I heard you singing in the shower yesterday. While you were doing that—you know, drenched from head to toe, butt naked, serenading the shampoo bottle with that hypnotic voice of yours—were you thinking about me?”

Peter clapped a hand over his beet-red forehead and laughed into the howling wind. “Johnny!” he cackled.

“What? It’s a valid question! A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will suffice. But if you say no, we’ll both know you’re lying. Admit it, Webs: you were totally thinking about me.”

“Your audacity knows no bounds,” Peter scoffed. The chilly air whipping past them did nothing to cool the bashful heat sizzling across his skin, or the impenetrable warmth of Johnny’s supernatural flames. The biting cold and freezing wetness had finally abandoned Peter’s gaunt frame and skin-tight suit, replaced instead by a full-body blush that tingled at the tips of his ears and blazed across his face at Johnny’s every playful remark—which showed no signs of slowing down. 

“What about when I caught you watching me work out on the roof a few days ago?” Johnny pressed him, a knavish grin slashing across his lips. “Was seeing me all sweaty and shirtless in person everything you dreamed it would be? Were you frothing at the mouth beneath your mask?”

“I—are you hoping I was?” Peter giggled helplessly. 

“Duh! I’m hot as hell and deserve to be objectified as such! I need to know how badly you’ve wanted me during each interaction we’ve had so I can confirm which one of us is the bigger simp.” He leaned in close enough for Peter to map the galaxies within his grayish-blue eyes, his upturned lips grazing Peter’s cheek as he spoke. “How about those fun little internet stories I mentioned earlier? Y’know—the self-insert ones where you can pretend you’re doing things with me that aren’t exactly PG? Ever find yourself reading any of those, Spider-Man? Don’t worry, I won’t judge. Some of them are actually really well written! They’ve got drama, angst, suspense, plot twists, weird sex terminology I’m too scared to google—”

“Oh my god,” Peter groaned into his palms, dropping his head against Johnny’s shoulder. “I don't know who's more psychologically deranged: you for reading so much of that shit, or your fans for writing it.” 

Johnny raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Well?” he prompted him. The Human Torch clearly wasn’t letting him off the hook without a proper answer. Peter loosed a long, skittish sigh, then threw his hands up in defeat.

“You know what? Fine. Yes, yes, and yes. For all your questions, the answer—tragically—is yes.” He flicked Johnny under the chin then crossed his arms against his chest, eyes pinched shut in shame. “Happy now?”

Johnny lit up with delight and disbelief. “Wait—seriously? You’ve read porn about me?”

Peter nearly choked. “No! I mean—not really. I was just…curious if you were telling the truth or not back when you mentioned it while tending to my wounds. I only got through two paragraphs of one story before closing out of all my tabs, clearing my browsing history, and debating whether or not to chuck my phone into the Hudson.” He jabbed a finger into Johnny’s collarbone. “Your fans are sick, sick people, Torchy.”

Johnny tossed his head back with a boisterous laugh. “Spidey’s read pornographic fanfiction about me,” he wheezed. “Holy shit. No contest, then.” He cinched his arms a little tighter around Peter’s body, holding him bridal-style, the city of New York a roaring blur of light and color far beneath them. “You’re definitely a bigger simp for me than I am for you.”

Peter burned scarlet but held his ground, the eye lenses on his mask narrowing into tiny slits. “You’re probably right,” he admitted shyly, smile widening. “But according to all the internet crazies commenting on the videos you’ve been posting, you’re the one who’s most obviously crushing on me, not the other way around.”

“What?” Johnny gawked, the flames in his hair flaring outwards and flashing pink. “No way! Are people actually saying that?”

“Only obsessive weirdos who probably assume you’re into anyone you’re seen spending more than five minutes around,” Peter clarified. “No actual reporters or credible new sources or anything. Still.” He draped the back of his arm across his forehead and fake-swooned for effect. “From their point of view, Spidey’s the one who’s got the Human Torch absolutely smitten.”

Johnny responded by digging the fingers curled protectively around Spider-Man’s torso into his rib cage, making the smug vigilante shrink inwards with a giggly shriek. “While the fans may not be wrong,” he stated matter-of-factly, enamored as always by the spider-themed hero’s shrill and explosive reaction to a few keenly-aimed pokes, “you, my friend, have an unfair advantage. Your mask hides all of your expressions!” He bopped the tip of Spider-Man’s crinkled nose. “It’s a lot easier to conceal your feelings from the world when no one can see your face. I don’t have that luxury.”

“Dohon’t!” Peter squeaked, prying Johnny’s fingers off his side. He met the Human Torch’s playful, affectionate gaze, ribs still tingling as an unsettling realization dawned on him. There was something Peter needed to ask Johnny. He wasn’t sure if he was quite ready to know the answer just yet, but it felt strange and dishonest to keep it to himself. Swallowing down his laughter, he gave the bottom of his Spider-Man mask a nervous tug.

“Is this…weird for you?” he asked hesitantly. 

Johnny frowned, not understanding. “Is what weird for me?”

Peter tapped the smooth glass of one of his eye lenses. “This. I mean…hanging out with me, doing the things we’re doing…all while you have zero idea what I look like.” He swallowed, failing to dislodge the newly-formed lump in his throat. “Is it…I don’t know. Strange? Uncomfortable?”

Johnny pressed his lips into a line as he considered Peter’s inquiry, hunching his shoulders just slightly. “I guess it is a bit…unusual. Can’t say I haven’t been curious to know who you really are for a while now. And I’d certainly love to see your real face, if you’re open to sharing that with me.” He smiled down at him, eyes soft and sparkling with firelight. “But I understand if you’re not ready to do that just yet. I am notoriously shitty at keeping secrets, and I know how important this one is to you.”

Peter’s insides pinched with uncertainty. “I know you think you like me now,” he said. He rested his hand on top of Johnny’s, which was wrapped securely around his upper arm. “But what if I take off my mask, and that changes?”

Johnny blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

“What if you don’t like the way I look? What if you think I’m ugly?” Johnny may have called him “pretty boy” on the two occasions they’d met while Peter was maskless, but who’s to say he didn’t call every guy or fan he met something similar? The Human Torch defaulted to flirting in the same way Spider-Man wielded humor: it was a shield, a deflection, something intended to hide the truth rather than reveal it. Just because he’d claimed to think Peter was pretty didn’t mean he actually meant it. 

“Oh my god!” Johnny laughed. “Don’t say stuff like that! You do realize there’s more things I like about you than just your appearance, right?”

“But looks are important to you,” Peter insisted tentatively. “I know they are. And I need you to understand that I am not like you. Not even close. I mean—just look at you.” He lifted his hand to Johnny’s face and brushed a strand of golden hair out of his eyes, coaxing a rosy tint to the surface of the celebrity’s freckled skin. “You’re beautiful. Like—the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen ever. You look like what would happen if someone went on one of those image-generating AI websites and asked it to spit out a picture of the most beautiful human being in the world.” 

Johnny giggled sheepishly, taking Peter’s hand in his and holding it against his color-stained cheek. Beautiful, the Human Torch thought wistfully. Most people used far cruder language when complimenting Johnny’s appearance. While he’d never complain about being called “hot” or “sexy” or “seductive” by his fans, the press, or even Spider-Man, it softened something in him that the webhead admired him in a way so tender and sweet and innocent compared to what he was used to—and perhaps a tad less inappropriate and predatory. 

“That’s really how you see me?” Johnny asked, heart glowing like a candle flame. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Peter’s pulse got away from him at the way Johnny was looking at him right now—a boy whose face and form made angels sigh across every dimension of the universe. The word felt too simple, too inadequate to describe what he saw when he looked at Johnny Storm. But if calling him beautiful made him smile and blush this way every time, Peter planned on saying it much more often.

“Yeah,” he eventually replied, timid but sincere, “I really do.” The masked hero’s stomach flipped-flopped inside him with bottomless adoration, then calcified when he remembered what he’d been trying to explain to him in the first place. He gently pulled his hand away from Johnny’s face, balling it into a fist against his chest. “But I can’t say the same for myself,” Peter continued meekly. “The fact is, on my best days, I’m average-looking. I don’t have effortlessly voluminous hair or flawless skin. I don’t have picture-perfect teeth or eyes the color of ocean waves. I still get breakouts every other week. My hair looks like a rat’s nest most days after wearing my mask for hours on end. My eyebrows are permanently uneven since my left one has a scar sliced right down the middle of it; shoutout to the Shocker for that. Plus, my face is kinda squishy, not at all chiseled or hot, and my nose is a bit crooked since I’ve broken it at least five different times now, and—”

“Spidey,” Johnny cut in, silencing him with a kiss that he pressed to his lips through the thin fabric of his mask, effectively ending Peter’s self-conscious rambling by tripping the breakers in his brain. His heartbeat fluttered like hummingbird wings as Johnny pulled back and held his gaze, pained endearment carved into his angular features. 

“Seeing the real you will only make me simp ten times harder for you,” he assured him with a chuckle. “I know it. I promise.” He brushed a second kiss to the apex of Peter’s jawline just below his ear, the sensation sending swarms of butterflies stampeding through his organs in a flustered tornado of emotion, transforming the teen hero into a blushing, pathetic creature he did not recognize, but didn’t necessarily hate. 

“And don’t worry—you’re gonna get the glow-up of a lifetime being with me.” Johnny whispered the words with his forehead against Peter’s temple, practically breathing them into his skin. “I’ll set you up with the perfect daily skincare routine, and as for your hair—oh, wait!” Johnny lifted his head and flashed a sunny grin. “I’ve seen it already! It’s really cute! From the back, anyway. I love curly brunettes. Not only that, but I can tell your face shape is incredibly flattering even through your mask. You’ve got a great baseline for me to start with and mold into a total masterpiece.”

Peter chuckled and blushed and bled with joy despite the fangs of insecurity driving deeper into his throat. Being the object of his crush’s barefaced affection after doubting the reciprocity of his feelings for so long made every act of intimacy and fondness Johnny bestowed him with strike like arrows from Cupid’s bow straight to the vigilante’s hopeless heart. Peter finally had the one thing he’d so desperately wanted—yet the fear of losing it all once Johnny saw Spider-Man’s true face cast storm clouds across his soul as dark as the ones overhead. Before he could refute him with more anxious uncertainties, Johnny nuzzled his face into the sensitive bend of Peter’s neck, causing the vigilante to yelp.

“EEK! Johnny!” He pushed frantically at his head, bubbling with high-pitched giggles. “Someone is gonna seehee!”

“I can’t help it!” Johnny giggled along with him. He squeezed the spindly hero closer to his chest, the bright sound of Spider-Man’s laughter like a drug he could feel himself growing more and more addicted to by the second. “It’s been torture wanting to do things like this but having to hold myself back! I need to make up for lost time! Physical touch is my number one love language—closely followed by acts of service—and I’ve got a whole backlog of unrequited affection I have to get out of my system!” 

Johnny slipped through Spidey’s defenses and protests and attacked his neck with quick, aggressive kisses, the masked hero’s laughter humming like magic against his lips. “Not to mention how goddamn adorable your laugh is,” he added with smug amusement. “How can you expect me to care about anything else when your little spider-giggles are that fucking cute?”

Giddy with laughter and mirth, Peter was caught severely off guard by a voice suddenly speaking to him via the headset installed in his suit. “Pete? Can you hear me?” it said, causing Spider-Man to flail and leap right out of Johnny’s arms.

“Wah!” he cried, making Johnny shout and flinch at the same time. Peter fell a couple dozen feet before snagging a web-line to the top of a high-rise, buoying himself to the side of the building. 

“What? What is it?” Johnny exclaimed feverishly, dropping to a hover on Peter’s left, alarm etched across his face. The cold and rain seeped into Spider-Man’s flesh like talons of ice, eager to reclaim him now that he was free of Johnny’s supernatural warmth. 

The Human Torch’s question was answered by what sounded like a jet engine barreling towards them from the north. The teens glanced up to see a streak of red and gold banking between skyscrapers, a flash of lightning glinting off its shiny metal exterior. The unidentified flying object was upon them in seconds, whipping to a halt before the two wide-eyed heroes, rain pinging off the iconic armor and infamous helmet.

“What the hell, kid?” Tony Stark snapped, voice distorted and slightly more intimidating as it rang out from the Iron Man suit. “Do you get some sort of sick kick out of scaring the living bejesus outta me? Can you not get through one superhero outing without setting off your vitals monitor and sending your stand-in guardian into cardiac arrest? Why is it that whenever you two hang out, the singular super-teen I’m responsible for always comes out of it with another near-death experience under his belt?” 

Johnny and Peter exchanged a quick look, relieved they hadn’t been caught fawning zealously over each other, but now under fire for an entirely different reason. The young heroes turned towards the billionaire, diffident smiles plastered across their lips. 

“Hey, Mr. Stark…” Peter murmured with a wave, tipping his head to one side. “Wow! Is that a new Iron Man suit you’re wearing? I really love the design! So sleek and cool and futuristic-looking and slimming and—”

“Don’t push it, kid,” Stark shot back, silencing the vigilante in record time. Iron Man drifted closer to Peter and scanned him up and down, a weary sigh slipping from his lips. “Are you all right?”

Peter swallowed and nodded, running a nervous hand over the side of his neck, which still tingled with feeling from Johnny’s greedy kisses. “I’m fine,” he assured him quietly. “Just a little chilly. And still slightly waterlogged.”

“Is your side okay? I told you not to push yourself too hard just yet.”

A lick of unexpected irritation swept through him. This was, approximately, the billionth time his mentor had pestered him about his bullet wound this week. It had been over five days since Peter had been shot. He was a superhero with elevated healing abilities; Mr. Stark knew this. He had to realize by now that he was more than fully recovered. So why was he still so insistent on badgering and babying him all the damn time? 

“Of course it is,” Peter retorted sharply. “I told you already; I’m back 100%. Fully healed. No pain.” He ran a hand over his abdomen with a scowl. “You can stop hounding me about it already.”

Tony Stark scoffed incredulously. “Forgive me, your asshole of a mentor, for giving a shit about your wellbeing.” He gestured to the shivering teen with a bitter flick of his hand. “Do I even want to know what circumstances led to you throwing yourself in the ocean and almost drowning? What the fuck were you thinking?”

Peter shuddered in the icy downpour, mulling and toiling over how to respond. “W-well—” he began, only for Johnny to tap in before he could stop him. 

“I can answer that,” the Human Torch chirped eagerly, cutting between the two of them. Dread seeped into Peter’s limbs as Johnny laid a melodramatic hand across his chest. “You see, I was really upset after Ben mentioned that my douchebag ex-friend was back in town, and Spidey here was worried about me. Worried enough to leap into the bay to try to reach me—or so I thought.” Johnny cut a smirk in Peter’s direction. “After I pulled him out of the water, I quickly realized what Spidey’s actual motive was for finding me: to beg me to help him get with that girl he’s been making goo-goo eyes at since the beginning of the summer, me being an expert at scoring dates and wooing babes.”

Peter clapped a palm over his face with a muffled groan. Stark studied the flaming teen with dubious amusement. He’s an even worse liar than Pete, the Avenger discerned with a snort. 

“Lucky for him, I’m happy to bequeath my tried and true flirtation techniques unto others, and also share some of my super-warmth with shivering dumbasses prone to hypothermia.”

The glowing slits of Tony’s Iron Man mask leered between the two teenagers, his voice heavy with exasperation. “Remind me to force you to reinstall your suit’s heater,” he said to Peter. “I knew giving you free rein on your costume design was a mistake. It’s like you’re allergic to anything that has practical, life-preserving applications.”

“All that excess hardware adds, like, ten extra pounds to my costume!” Peter protested. “It was slowing me down, restricting my movements!”

Johnny blew a raspberry. “Says the guy who can lift eight tons without even breaking a sweat.”

Peter threw Johnny a dirty look before continuing. “According to my calculations, tacking a bunch of unnecessary gear to my suit has far more drawbacks than benefits. As far as my day-to-day crime fighting goes, my speed and agility help me keep others out of harm’s path much more consistently than any other tools at my disposal. All that added deadweight is a major liability!”

“All that ‘added deadweight’ was put there to keep you safe,” Stark shot back. “Did you ever stop and think that if you made your suit stronger, with more crisis-tolerant features, you wouldn’t have to be so goddamn dependent on your speed and dodging powers all the time? That you being faster than your opponents wouldn’t be the only thing standing between you and devastating injuries—or worse?” Iron Man gestured towards himself, the arc reactor in the center of his chest humming with power. “If I got dropped into the ocean or shot at while wearing this armor, the worst thing I’d have to worry about is buffing out some scuff marks, or—I don’t know. Maybe a new paint job.” He jabbed a finger at Spider-Man. “But you in that flimsy, useless leotard have to deal with bullet wounds, near-drownings, and other deadly consequences I’m opting not to speak into existence at the moment. I mean—just look at you right now! You’re soaking wet and freezing!”

Peter Parker rolled his eyes. “Am n-not,” he said, cursing the treacherous chatter of his teeth. “And hey—lay off the threads, man! Just ‘cuz you subscribe to maximalism and disaster prevention and safety protocols doesn’t mean I have to! You said I could make my suit however I wanted! So I went for something light, modest, and simple. And I didn’t get rid of all the fancy features you put in the original design—just the heaviest ones!”

“What part of a skin-tight bodysuit qualifies as modest to you?” Johnny asked with a snicker. “Besides, Tony has a point. If you have the means to make a suit that better protects you from being hurt, why wouldn’t you?” 

“Oh, you mean like your equally impractical and skin-tight uniform?” Peter retorted pointedly.

“Whenever Reed is able to invent a sturdier fabric that won’t burn off every time I turn my flames on, I’ll happily switch to a more protective suit. But for now, I’m stuck with this one: the only outfit I can wear while using my powers without flashing all of humanity.”

“Your fixation on simplicity is gonna end with you dying a very preventable death,” Stark persisted coldly. “The only reason I’m alive today is because I’m always expecting the worst and arming myself accordingly. It’s idiotic not to for folks who do what we do.”

Peter recalled the news clips he’d watched as a kid of Stark’s old mansion in Malibu being blown to bits by an enemy bomb strike, followed by the harrowing reports of his idol’s supposed demise, then the story of the billionaire’s miraculous survival, along with all the other times the Avenger had saved himself, Peter, and countless others from the merciless jaws of death, and huffed out a breath of defeat. 

“Nobody’s telling Black Widow or Hawkeye their suits aren’t practical or protective enough…” Peter grumbled. “And those two don’t even have any super powers!”

“They’re fully grown master assassins, not clueless 16-year-olds with half-baked frontal lobes who think themselves invincible.” Tony smiled at the kid’s pouty posture and beckoned the two teens forward with a wave of his metal hand. “Come on—the others are waiting on us. We’ve got another team-building exercise planned for everyone. Since you're so sure that you're fully healed already, I'll forgo my better judgement and let you participate. If you’re somehow still not convinced by now of how important it is to be prepared for anything, I’m certain what’s in store for you today will change your mind.” He hovered close enough to pinch the sopping fabric of Peter’s costume between his fingers. “Besides. Another minute out in this weather, and you’re bound to catch a cold.”

Peter muttered a few choice words under his breath, but his hands and feet had gone numb to the point of quelling all further arguments on the matter. 

“Could I make us some hot chocolate first?” Johnny asked with a sidelong grin at Peter. “Spidey made me promise to make him the best hot chocolate ever once we got home.” He slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders, the warmth of his touch sending a tremor across the vigilante’s icy flesh. “Not because he’s soaking wet or freezing cold or anything. Oh, no. He’s obviously fine, and clearly doesn’t need some stupid heater to keep warm. Turning into a Spidey-shaped ice sculpture is a much better option than adding a couple extra pounds to his suit.”

Johnny eyed Peter with a feisty giggle, and even though the flaming teen was poking fun at him quite rudely, Peter looked at the Human Torch and felt his heart stumble into the rungs of his rib cage. He likes me, he reminded himself, a thrill spurring through his veins, transfixed by the beauty of the boy smiling back at him. He likes me more than a friend. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for his brain to accept that as reality. 

As time slowed around him, Peter’s eyes drifted down to Johnny’s lips, and he started thinking about how badly he’d like to kiss them again. Maybe this time around, he wouldn’t be so reserved and cautious. Maybe he’d let his mouth fall open up a little wider. Maybe he’d let his teeth graze the delicate softness of Johnny’s lower lip. Maybe he’d let Johnny’s tongue slip deeper inside, tasting him the way he’d felt it wanting to, all while Peter tasted him right back—

“I’m afraid hot chocolate will have to wait,” Stark chuckled, ripping Peter out of his wantonly steamy trance, blush and embarrassment beaning him over the head like a baseball bat. He’d never had thoughts like that about anyone before. It startled him how easily his mind went off on salacious tangents when it came to Johnny Storm. “We’ve already kept the others waiting long enough.”

Spider-Man swallowed forcefully. “That’s okay,” he sputtered out, shoving Johnny’s face away in a way he hoped came off playful and platonic. “Like I said: n-not that cold.”

“You’re a moron,” Johnny laughed, peeling Peter’s clingy fingers off his forehead. The three superheroes sailed across the city together to bridge the short distance between them and Avengers Tower, the frigid winds clawing at Peter’s skin through every web-swing. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter watched the Human Torch soar beside Stark beneath the low-hanging clouds, fondness and dread bleeding through his entrails. To think he was worried about Johnny being the one who wouldn’t be able to hide his affections from the others. Keeping this new and exhilarating development in their relationship a secret was going to be a lot harder than he thought. 

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For the third time in the past five minutes, Johnny caught himself gazing longingly at the red and blue superhero on the opposite side of the training arena, every pulse of his heart sending bursts of starlight through his bloodstream, all the fluid in his veins replaced by liquid sunshine. 

So this was what it was like to have your crush like you back. Johnny didn’t think he’d ever felt this happy in his entire life. He was no stranger to throngs of girls throwing themselves at his feet, tearfully professing how ardently they adored him—or worse, fellow celebrities of varying ages and professions cornering him at parties or in dressing rooms, their wandering hands and whispered promises sordid enough to send Sue on a sisterly killing spree if she ever found out; not that he’d tell her about that.   

But this was different. This was something pure and real and mutual. This was something making it extremely difficult for him to focus on anything except the next time he could steal the vigilante away and do everything he’d wanted to do to him since the moment his feelings for the masked hero had taken root. The words and kisses he and Spidey had shared on the rain-slicked crown of the Statue of Liberty replayed again and again on the backs of his eyelids, rendering him distracted and ditsy and overflowing with excitement. If anyone was watching him right now as he ogled Spider-Man from across the room, Johnny imagined he’d have little flaming hearts dancing and twirling off his scalp. 

“Where were you last night?”

Johnny’s head snapped forward like he’d been backhanded, color permeating his startled expression.

“Huh?” he said, blinking the fairy lights from his eyes. His sister stood in front of him, brows pinched together suspiciously. 

“You weren’t in your room last night,” she explained. “I came by to say goodnight, but you weren’t there.” 

Johnny blinked again, his brain hazy and love-drunk. “Last night?” he parroted her. Forming a coherent response in his current state felt like grasping at fog with his bare hands. “I…oh! Right! I accidentally fell asleep on the couch. Watching Love Island. And editing TikTok videos. On the 78th floor.”

When Sue just raised an eyebrow at him, Johnny shrugged. “Don’t believe me if you want. But that’s the truth. Check the cameras if you’re that paranoid.” He winced internally as that last sentence left his lips. If she did find a way to look up the footage from this morning, she’d see how Johnny had cuddled up to Spider-Man all night long like a clingy little puppy. Not exactly a great start to keeping their relationship a secret.

“And what’s got you so smiley all of a sudden?” Ben asked with a scowl. “I thought you were gonna burst into tears when I brought up Sam earlier. Now everything’s peachy keen again?”

“You do seem a lot more chipper than usual,” Reed chimed in, filling up a bottle at the water station by the control room. His gaze slid past Johnny’s shoulder, eerily close to where he knew Spider-Man was standing, then jumped back to the Human Torch, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “Any particular reason as to why that might be?”

Johnny’s heart threw itself against the back of his ribs with a screech. Had they truly already figured it out?

“What?” he exclaimed shrilly. “No!” Heat flared off the nape of his neck. “I’m not chipper, whatever the hell that means! I’m just—looking forward to whatever this training thing is that we’re about to do. That’s all! Is that so wrong? Why are you all interrogating me right now? Just—shut up!”

The three heroes studied the flustered teenager bemusedly. There were many things Johnny Storm excelled at. Keeping secrets and masking his feelings evidently weren’t included in that list. Reed drowned a chuckle behind a sip of water. 

Eager for a change in subject, Johnny turned back to his sister. “Did you cancel the interview with Sam yet?” he huffed. “Or are you seriously gonna make me talk to that asshole again?”

Sue stretched her arms across the front of her body, bending her left elbow to press her right arm against her chest, then swapping. “I never set it up in the first place,” she answered simply.

“You didn’t?” Johnny said, puzzled. “Why not?”

“I only planned to organize it because I thought you’d want to see him,” she clarified. She rolled out her wrists and ran a hand through her curtain bangs. “But when Ben said you didn’t, I was relieved.” 

Johnny frowned at her. “But…Sam saved our lives. I thought you of all people would be drooling at the opportunity to film a segment with him. Who knows how long he’ll be here, or if he’ll ever come back after he leaves?” The Human Torch crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Is this some kind of weird reverse-psychology thing you’re trying to pull on me?”

Sue’s expression hardened. “Sam said awful things to you. You weren’t yourself for months after your last conversation with him. Not even gaining superpowers was enough to cheer you up. I’ll always be indebted to him for saving my family, but that doesn’t make him any less of an insecure, homophobic piece of shit.”

Surprise plucked at Johnny’s heart. Sue was well versed in defending the people she cared about from physical or reputation-related threats. But as far as their feelings went? Expecting the Invisible Woman to care about something as trivial as that was like expecting an oil executive to give a damn about global warming. But Johnny’s misery following the cruelty and loss of his friend must have jarred his sister enough to cure her of her emotional constipation—if only temporarily. 

“I’m glad you’re over him,” she stated, eyes sharp. “You deserve better than what he had to offer.”

Before Johnny could fully digest how much her words meant to him, a loud whistle sliced through the air, dragging everyone’s attention to where Natasha Romanoff stood in front of the arena's viewing room, dressed in her battle gear with an impressive array of weapons tucked along her waist, arms, and legs. 

“Hi,” she said with a smooth grin. “We’re gonna get started now.” She bobbed her chin at her teammates in the center of the arena. “Tony will explain.”

“Only because I’m anal about minutiae and details,” Stark clarified, hovering above the practice field. The Iron Man helmet crawled off his head and disappeared into the back of his suit, exposing his well-groomed features and charming smile. “Plus, I designed this game myself, so I’m very interested to see how each of you fare against the different challenges I’ve come up with.”

Tony tapped a button on the forearm of his armor, activating a projector that displayed a 3D holographic animation overhead to accompany his presentation. “The concept is pretty straightforward,” he said. “One member of the Avengers will be paired up with a member of the Fantastic Four. The two of you will work together to overcome obstacles tailored to your specific abilities in order to save a captured civilian—AKA, a crash dummy—before time runs out.” An image of a crying stick figure trapped inside a cage appeared beside the two heroes depicted in the projection. “Use your combined strength and intellect to get past the obstacles and rescue the captive within fifteen minutes, and you win. Fail to retrieve the civilian before time runs out, and you lose.” 

The hologram fizzled out of existence as Stark swept his gaze across the spattering of heroes. “This challenge is all about teamwork,” he went on. “Each of us needs to learn how to navigate dangerous situations and deal with time-sensitive crises creatively, effectively, and as a team. This little game isn’t going to get us all there in one go, but it is a fun first step.” He crossed his arms against his glowing chest. “Make sense?”

The two groups nodded in unison, a breeze of curiosity and excitement stirring through the atmosphere. Johnny tried to pretend like he gave a shit about this dumb team-building exercise, but the celebrity’s faculties were wholly engrossed by the spider-themed hero stealing glances at him from afar, and how desperately he wanted to be somewhere alone with him, out of reach from his teammates prying stares. 

“Since two of our teammates have already taken it upon themselves to pair up and seek out trouble twice now, I think it’s only natural that we stick them together and let them kick things off for us.“ Tony turned towards Spider-Man, who flinched a little when he jabbed a finger at him. “Spidey, Johnny, you’ll go first. I’m sure we’re all eager to see how the two of you work together in action. Everyone else, head to the viewing room.”

The teens shared a look of surprise as the rest of their teammates filed past them. Ben made sure to bump his shoulder into Johnny’s as he went by, snickering. Spider-Man jogged across the arena to meet the Human Torch on the south side of the field, his movements hesitant and timid as he slowed to a stop before the flaming hero.

“Hey again,” Spidey greeted him skittishly. Against his will, Johnny‘s stomach swirled with affection, mouth splitting into a massive smile.

“Hey,” he chuckled. Warmth crept into his face as his hands twitched restlessly at his sides. The events of the morning stretched taut between the two heroes like strings on a bow, along with an awkward amount of space neither party could find the courage to breach. The vigilant stares of both of their teammates burned like cigarettes on the back of Johnny’s neck, causing sweat to break out across his skin. 

Spidey shot a glance at the viewing room on their right, then moved to stand by the Human Torch’s side, facing forward with his shoulders set and his spine straight.

“So…” Spider-Man said, voice low but playful. “Come here often, hot stuff?”

Despite his best efforts, Johnny busted into a laugh, shaking his head from side to side. “Shut up, you loser,” he giggled.

“Wait, wait, I can do better than that. Somebody call the fire department, ‘cuz this guy is smokin’.” 

“Is this you attempting to flirt with me? Corny pickup lines and cheesy one-liners? You really think that’s the key to my refined and sophisticated heart?”

“Well? Is it working?” Spidey asked in whisper, the words curling upwards just like the goofy smile Johnny knew he was wearing. The Human Torch rolled his eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled fondly. The two of them kept their faces and bodies angled forward as they spoke, daring not to show any physical displays of affection with so many eyes on them. 

“Pretty lousy atmosphere for a first date, if you ask me,” Spidey continued, quiet and coltish. “Some orchids or candles would’ve been nice.”

“You want to count this as our first date?” Johnny whispered back. “I was planning to take you somewhere with much better ambiance and way fewer older sisters around. Maybe rent a gondola and a string quartet or something. But if you’d like, we can always save that for date number two.”

Spider-Man shrugged. “Either way. Your idea does sound a lot more romantic than the humiliation ritual we’re about to be subjected to...”

Johnny ventured a look at the rows of heroes sitting in the viewing room and grimaced. “Especially with my teammates watching,” he said gravely. His gaze swiveled to his feet, and he swallowed. “I am so not good at this ‘keeping secrets’ thing, Webs. I really like you, and am obviously terrible at hiding it.” His hands knotted into fists at his sides. “So if you’re set on keeping this thing on the down low, we’ve really gotta sell the whole ‘platonic super bros’ shtick. We can’t do anything that even suggests that we like each other like that. Not with them watching us like fish in a bowl.” 

Spidey faced him then, head drooping a bit. “I’m sorry I’m making you lie to your teammates,” he murmured. ”I know firsthand how complicated it can get.”

“It’s all right. I lie to them about all kinds of stuff all the time.” Johnny smiled apologetically. “I just wish I was better at it.”

Spider-Man scratched the back of his neck. “Lucky for us, we’ll probably be too busy getting blasted by drones or pummeled by robotic thugs to do anything remotely romantic-y looking while we’re in here.”

Johnny elbowed him in the side. “Well, double lucky for us: we’ve done this exact drill in real life already, and won. I can’t imagine fake thugs or drones being any harder to beat than those insane kidnappers we fought.” Mischief tugged at the corners of his lips as he tucked his hands politely behind his back, raising his chin and tracing his gaze along the outline of Spidey’s throat. “And after we win this,” Johnny added, “I’m gonna drag you somewhere no one will bother us and spend the rest of the afternoon sucking on your neck until it’s all one big hickey. Sound good?”

A noise sputtered out of the masked hero that sounded like a cross between a cough and a squeak. Johnny clapped him triumphantly on the back as he strolled forward, whispering in his ear as he close as he dared as he passed by. “Best leave the flirting to the professionals, bug boy.” 

Johnny walked towards the center of the field but stopped as the floor began to move and quake beneath him. The ground suddenly split open at his feet, making the teen jump back in surprise, revealing a large pool of water that spanned the width of the battlefield and stretched the length of a basketball court. Hexagon-shaped panels that encompassed every surface of the arena started to glow blue and flip inward, transforming the walls and ceilings from sterile gray to pitch black. While beams of light shot out from devices in each corner of the room, altering the appearance of everything they touched, thick concrete pillars sprouted out of the floor and stretched into the tangle of metal rafters zig-zagged across the ceiling, looking crumbly and ancient and structurally unsound. A musty, damp taste choked the air, like no one had stepped foot in this place in over a hundred years. Within moments, the space around them was converted into what looked like an old, abandoned warehouse, complete with dilapidated scaffolding, haphazard piles of rusted canisters, and moldy wooden crates. The pool at Johnny’s feet was so dark, he couldn’t even see the bottom. 

“Whoa,” Spidey exclaimed, joining him at the water’s edge. “I forgot how realistic the different simulator settings for the arena can look. I don’t think I’ve seen this one before.”

“Is everything in here real? Or just an illusion?” He knelt down and dipped his fingers into the pool. It was real all right—and bitterly cold. 

“What we’re seeing is mostly a projection, but on top of real objects.” To demonstrate, Spider-Man kicked one of the metal barrels stacked to their right across the room. It hit the wall with a clang that sounded convincing enough. Johnny reached out and touched the pillar closest to him, palm scraping along gritty concrete. He’d never interacted with virtual reality tech this advanced before. Even the smells were immersive. The rhythmic drip of some distant, leaky pipe echoed across the fictitious warehouse.

“Wicked,” Johnny breathed. At the very back of the room, the hapless crash dummy they were tasked with saving was pinned to the wall, each of its limbs bound in metal chains. Johnny wondered which method would free the civilian faster: melting the cuffs with the heat of his flames, or tearing them apart using Spidey’s super strength. Fire blazed across his body as he turned to the masked hero with a shrug. “So, should we start? Or do we have to wait for the battle drones to appear?”

The shrill whirr of high-tech thrusters sent a prickle down Johnny’s spine. The Human Torch glanced up just as two armored men jetted above their heads, the turbulent wind they generated making Johnny wince and shield his face. The metal suits eased to a hover over the middle of the large pool, the dark water rippling away from the bottoms of their feet.

But these weren’t drones. 

“Mr. Stark?” Spidey called in surprise. “Mr. Rhodes? What’s going on? Are we both running through the exercise at the same time or something?”

Iron Man placed his metal fists on his metal hips. “Oh, did I forget to mention?” The smug grin on his lips dripped from his voice as clear as day. “No drones this time. Rhodey and I are the ones you have to get past in order to win.”

The jaws of the two teens dropped to the floor. “Oh shit,” Johnny hissed. The battle bell clanged through the air, and Stark turned to his teammate with a nod.

“Ready, fellow villain o’ mine?”

“After you, Tones.”

Stark flexed both hands at his sides, the repulsors in the center of his palms powering up, then shot towards Spider-Man like a golden bullet. The vigilante let out a yelp of alarm.

“Wait—seriously?” Spidey cried, then jerked sideways just in time to dodge Iron Man’s swinging fist. Whatever happened next, Johnny didn’t see; as he whipped forward to face War Machine, he was met head-on with a blast of icy water. 

“Agh!” he yelled, the powerful stream knocking him backwards and sending him tumbling across the floor. The fire encasing his body fizzled out in a hiss of smoke. Dripping wet, he rolled into a sitting position and lifted his gaze to find James Rhodes floating above him, the hose in his hands aimed threateningly at the teen. 

“Not so tough once you get a little damp, huh?” War Machine taunted him, leaning into the “bad guy” charade a tad too heavily for Johnny’s taste. Surprise roiled to anger in the Human Torch’s gut. He bared his teeth, willing heat outwards from his soaked skin, then scrambled sideways with a shriek as another surge of water shot out from the nozzle. Johnny suddenly understood what being a bug beneath a garden hose felt like as he fled on foot from the armored man, who was cackling as he chased him. 

“Uh, Mr. Stark? Are you pissed at me or something?”

Peter ducked as a repulsor blast splintered the wall where his head had just been, then sprung onto a concrete column as Iron Man’s flying fist narrowly missed his torso. The buzz in his skull throbbed like a second heartbeat. The pounding of his pulse thundered through muscle and bone. 

“Pissed at you?” Stark inquired, rocketing after him as he scaled the pillar. “Why would I be pissed at you?”

“Why else would you be trying to beat the shit outta me right now?” 

Iron Man smashed through the column with his shoulder, forcing the masked hero to leap onto the ceiling as it crumbled to the floor in powdery chunks. 

The Avenger chuckled lightly, dusting himself off. “You said so yourself: you’re back to 100%, right? Then you should have no problem at all taking on an old, decrepit man like me.” A ray of concussive power shot out from Tony’s palm. Spider-Man dropped from the rafters and rolled across the floor to a crouched position, dodging the shattered pieces of metal that rained down on top of him.

“But I’ve never fought you before!” Peter stammered shrilly. “You‘ve never asked me to! Why start now?”

Stark tore a rusted beam off the ceiling and barreled towards the teenager, swinging the makeshift weapon with all his might. Peter caught the metal rod in his hands before it could bash his head in, eyes wide as they met the glowing, lifeless slits of the Iron Man mask, muscles straining against the armor’s tremendous strength. 

“I figured it’s about time I took a more hands-on approach to your superhero mentorship,” Tony explained, driving the beam closer and closer to Peter’s throat. “You think you’re strong enough to survive out there long-term using only your powers to protect you? You think the safety nets and contingency plans I designed to keep you alive are overkill and unnecessary? Then prove it. Prove that you can beat me by sheer grit and raw talent, and I’ll stop ‘hounding’ you about being safe and taking care of yourself all the damn time.”

Peter’s chest seized. Shit, he thought. So they were really doing this. Spider-Man had to fight Iron Man. As if an arachnid-themed teenager in spandex had any chance of defeating a flying, A.I. equipped tank with over a decade of battle experience—let alone surviving the endeavor.

Pivoting, Peter beared down and used Stark’s strength against him, shoving the metal rod up and then slinging it to the side, sending Iron Man flying with it. The Avenger flipped midair and leveled out with a surge from his repulsor boots, regaining his balance with ease.

“Spidey!” Johnny called to him frantically. Peter turned to find the celebrity sprinting around the arena like a soaked chicken with its head cut off, ducking and leaping and darting every which way as Rhodes doused him with water from the thick hose in his hands. He watched the poor teen slip and fall onto his stomach, a look of panic on his face. “I’m too wet to ignite! Help!”

The scene was amusing enough that Peter almost wanted to laugh, but their teammates in the viewing room were likely doing enough of that already, and Johnny was clearly in desperate need of assistance. He snagged a line of webbing to the ceiling and swung after him, sights set on ripping that pesky hose out of Mr. Rhodes’ hands. “I’m coming!” Peter hollered. “Hang on! Just—aaagh!”

A sound struck him then, shrill and explosive, like a hundred bombs going off inside his brain. The web-line slipped from his fingers as his hands flew to his ears, a cry of pain punching out of him that he couldn’t hear over the roar of noise. He hit the ground with a harsh thud, the agonizing sound refusing to quiet, his body screaming for it to stop. 

When the horrible noise did finally cease, Peter pried his eyes open to find Iron Man standing over him, his glowing palm aimed at the vigilante’s face. “Lesson number one,” Stark stated pompously, his voice faint and muted to Peter’s ringing ears. “Don’t turn your back on your opponent, especially if your opponent is me. Also, fun fact about all that ‘deadweight hardware’ you took out of your suit: part of it included input dampers that could activate automatically to protect you from debilitating sensory attacks. Might’ve been a nice thing to keep installed for situations like this; wouldn’t you agree?”

Before Peter could attempt a response, his aching head throbbed in warning. As the masked hero flew to his feet, a blast from Tony’s hand repulsor struck him in the gut, knocking the wind from his body and sending him careening into the wall farthest away from where the chained civilian sat. He was lucky Stark had set his gauntlets to stun; a real repulsor charge from that close of range would have fried a hole clean through his torso. Nonetheless, it still hurt like a bitch. 

“Son of a…” Peter groaned, falling to his knees with one hand gripping his belly. His vision swirled with nausea and pain as he fought to catch his breath. A moment later, Johnny slammed into the corner on his left, a surge of water from Rhodey’s hose pinning him to the wall for a few seconds before easing off. 

“For fuck’s sake!” Johnny spat, whirling around with his hands bunched into fists, his whole body completely drenched. His cheeks burned pink with frustration. “Enough with the goddamn fire hose already!”

“I’ll stop using it when it stops working so well,” James chuckled. Iron Man floated to his side and gave his friend a metallic high-five. As Peter clambered to his feet, a neon blue line sliced across the floor a couple yards in front of him and Johnny, separating them from the two armored men. 

“This area is your designated safe zone,” Tony explained, gesturing to the line. “As long as you stay on that side of the boundary, we won’t attack you. You can use this space to strategize, recuperate, or hide like cowards until time runs out. This is also the boundary you’ll need to cross with the rescued captive in order to win—not that I anticipate you soft-skinned tadpoles getting anywhere close to winning.”

Peter’s blood flashed with irritation. “You know, I was trying to be nice earlier,” the masked hero panted. “But the truth is, I don’t like your new armor at all. It’s bulky and unflattering and painfully overdone and adds ten pounds to your figure. And I hope it chafes like hell.”

Stark and Rhodes just laughed, which only made him more irritated. “And yet, I’m still kicking your ass in it,” Tony jeered, making Peter bristle. “I guess that’s what happens when you prioritize function over aesthetic.”

“We’ll be waiting over here whenever you’re ready for more water-logging and ass-kicking,” Rhodes remarked, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. Then the two Iron Men flew to the center of the pool, hovering above it and chatting casually like Spider-Man and the Human Torch were hardly even a threat.

Johnny marched to the edge of the boundary line, slicking his hair out of his eyes as smoke plumed off his scalp. “I’m gonna take that hose and shove it up his shiny metal ass,” he growled. But Peter stopped him with a hand around his wrist.

“Johnny, wait,” he said. When the Human Torch turned to face him, his irises blazed with fire. “Trust me: I’m just as eager as you are to make those geriatric buckets of bolts eat their words. But we can’t take the bait.” Peter nodded towards the clock on the wall. They’d already managed to burn off four of their precious fifteen minutes. “They’re trying to get a rise out of us so we’ll waste all our time fighting them instead of saving the civilian so we can win.”

“Well, it’s fucking working,” Johnny grated out. Weak flames crackled off his shoulders. “So we better come up with a plan to win this thing fast before I start pelting those tin cans with fireballs for ten minutes straight.”

Peter scanned the layout of the warehouse-themed arena. The two main obstacles between them and the captive were the large pool and the deadly pair of armored men standing guard. If one of them could keep Stark and Rhodes occupied while the other freed the crash dummy, maybe there was a chance they could secure the civilian and get across the finish line without taking too much damage. But they’d have to move exceptionally quick. 

“Okay, this is what I’ve got,” Peter said sotto voce, rubbing gingerly at his stomach. “You’re gonna make a mad dash for the captive, doing whatever you gotta do to get across the pool. While you work on melting through the cuffs, I’ll fend off the metal grandpas and try to keep them distracted. I’ll protect you for as long as it takes for you to free the dummy, then we’ll both fight like hell to get all of us back on this side in one piece.”

Spider-Man turned to Johnny expectantly, waiting for his input. The Human Torch just glowered at him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“You know, for someone so smart, you’re really stupid a lot of the time.”

Peter hunched his shoulders and wrinkled his brow. “Hey! I’m just spitballing ideas here!”

“Well, your ideas suck major dick,” Johnny snapped. “You seriously think you can take both of those guys at once all by yourself? They’ll tear you apart! Stark will just scramble your brains with whatever migraine-blast thing he hit you with before, leaving Rhodes open to spray me with more water, rendering both of us useless—again. They’ve armed themselves with ways to directly nullify our powers, and no part of your plan acknowledges that or how you expect us to overcome it.”

The masked hero grimaced. “Well if you have any better ideas you’d like to share with the class, I’m all ears, Torchy! We don’t have time to sit here and craft the perfect rescue plan! We just gotta keep cracking at it until we find a way that works.” 

Johnny huffed indignantly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “And this right here is exactly why you’re constantly getting hurt and nearly dying all the time. You just throw yourself at whatever enemies or problems are standing in your way without any preparation or strategizing or consideration for your own wellbeing.” He flicked water from his gloved fingers, cutting a glare in Peter’s direction. “Tony was right about you. You’re weirdly adverse to things meant to keep you safe and protect you from harm. You should seriously consider taking your mentor’s advice for a change.”

Incredulous, Peter pealed into a bitter laugh, clasping a hand over his eyes. “Oh my god,” he bemoaned. “Are you actually lecturing me about ‘protecting myself from harm’ right now when you still haven’t posted the apology to Fisk yet? I’ve told you a million times how dangerous he is and how this could help protect you from him, but you won’t listen to me! You don’t care!” He turned his back to Johnny with a scowl. “Don’t go reprimanding me about ignoring the advice of those with our best interests in mind when you do the exact same thing with me and your sister.”

“Posting that apology goes against every principle I stand for!” Johnny shouted. “Me refusing to do that is completely different than you diving headfirst into danger or removing protective hardware from your suit just ‘cuz—what? It’s slightly heavier?” The teen let out a caustic scoff. “Be so fucking for real right now, Webs. That’s the most pathetic, bullshit excuse I’ve ever heard in my life.” 

When Spider-Man blatantly ignored him, Johnny shoved him from behind for good measure, making Peter whirl on the Human Torch lividly. “And quit taking sides with Sue on everything! My sister hates you!”

“But she doesn’t hate you!” Peter shot back. “And neither do I! Both of us care about you and want to keep you safe! Do you know how awful I’d feel if Fisk did something to you because of me? I’d never forgive myself!”

Johnny threw his hands above his head in disbelief, tears shimmering in his dark blue eyes. “Well if you’re so torn up simply from the idea of him hurting me, then imagine how I feel! Having to watch you get beaten and shot and eviscerated by the media because of him, all while you and Sue tell me to sit by and do nothing about it—or worse, to apologize to him after his men almost killed you!” Fire raged across Johnny’s skin, evaporating all remaining water from his flesh, lighting up the dim room like a volcanic eruption. “That’s not who I am, Webhead! That’s not who I ever want to be!”

The two teens stared each other down, frustration and tension cleaving open their raw hearts and original wounds. Something about this floor of the tower always managed to set their tempers to boil, although the disagreement blazing between them today was much different than the one they’d had during their first spar. Back then, the pair had fought because of how viscerally they despised each other. But now, in the musty air of this faux-warehouse, they were fighting because of how painfully they cared.

Peter eyed the clock on the wall again, then released a weary sigh. “Are we gonna try to win this thing? Or would you rather waste all our time yelling at each other some more?” 

The Human Torch set his jaw, rising off the floor and spiraling away from him. “You know what?” he seethed. “I changed my mind. Your stupid plan sounds perfect. Let’s go for it. I’m all in.” He crossed the glowing boundary line, shooting Peter a cold glare over his shoulder. “One condition, though: I’ll be the one who fights off the bad guys all by myself while you go save the dummy. Is that cool with you?”

A shiv of alarm plunged into the masked hero‘s heart. Peter jogged after the flaming teen, shooting anxious glances between him and the armored men. “Johnny, wait—”

“What? You asked for my input; there it is. I’ll go distract them, launching myself into a fight I can’t possibly hope to win, and you can retrieve the dummy. Why would it matter which one of us takes on which role?”

“Because I have enhanced reflexes!” Peter reminded him fervidly. “And my spider sense! And a healing factor! You don’t have any of those things!”

Johnny faced away from him with a scornful laugh. “Well, tough shit. I’m going anyways. And you can’t stop me.”

With that, the Human Torch gunned it straight for the two metal guards above the pool, smoke and ash trailing in his wake. Peter shot a thread from his wrist and raced after him, dread hammering through his skull.

“Hey old timers!” Johnny hollered as he approached, turning both Avengers’ heads. “Eat my flaming fists!”

Rhodes let loose another torrent of water, but Johnny was ready this time. He swerved out of the stream’s path and shot a blast of fire at War Machine’s hands, knocking the fire hose out of his grip. Without the threat of being doused slowing him down, Johnny went on the offensive, pelting Rhodes with fistfuls of flame that drove him back a few feet, but did not inflict much damage. Iron Man returned fire with bates of concentrated power from his palm repulsors, which Rhodes quickly mirrored. Johnny was evading both of their attacks pretty well and hitting them with an impressive volley of fireballs, but he didn’t have the arsenal needed to incapacitate opponents like this. All of his fire-themed blitzes glanced harmlessly off their impenetrable armor, doing nothing but tiring Johnny out the longer the fight went on.

To Johnny’s credit, he was doing a great job keeping them occupied. Peter swung from one side of the pool to the other without either armored assailant paying him any mind. As he landed on solid ground, he looked back at the three battling heroes with a twinge of fear and uncertainty. Why aren’t they trying to stop me? he wondered. At that moment, Stark got the drop on Johnny while Rhodes had him on the ropes, zipping in from the sidelines to sock Johnny right in the cheek. Peter flinched and gasped as Johnny’s head snapped sideways, the flames on his body guttering weakly. He barely managed to stop himself from dropping right into the water, his heels skirting the pool’s surface.

“Johnny!” Peter cried in dismay. He didn’t care if it drew attention to himself. His crush had just been punched in the face by his mentor’s metal fist. He had to make sure he was okay. Peter ran to the edge of the pool, aiming his wrist at the ceiling, but Johnny slung a fireball in his direction before he could activate his web-shooters, making the vigilante jump to the side in surprise. 

“Don’t help me!” Johnny shouted furiously. “Save the civilian!” Despite having just sustained a really bad blow, he launched himself back into the fray with an admirable lack of hesitation, zooming past the colonel and swinging a flaming kick into Stark’s stomach. But the hit probably hurt Johnny more than the billionaire. 

Peter’s chest ached with worry as Johnny‘s fight with the armored men continued to escalate. He was making his point loud and clear to a precariously committed degree. You want to know what it’s like to watch someone you care about throw themselves into danger with zero regard for their own safety? Let me show you. He knew how angry Johnny would be if he charged in to save him instead of fulfilling his part of the plan. The only way to stop him from being hurt any worse without thoroughly pissing him off was for Peter to free the captive as fast as possible. So, feeling sick to his stomach, Peter turned his back on his friend and ran towards the chained-up dummy, grabbing hold of the cuffs locked around its wrists. 

But right as his hands made contact with the metal bonds, the ear-splitting sound Stark had hit him with before crashed over him like a deafening tsunami, sending him crumpling to the ground in agony. He scrambled back from the captive, ragged gasps sawing out of him as the assault on his senses subsided, the torturous pain blaring through his brain easing somewhat without completely disappearing.

“Shit,” he grated out. He stood, kneading at his temples, scanning the dummy up and down. There must be some kind of device or speaker that activated when the chains were touched. That’s why Stark and Rhodes weren’t coming after him: ‘cuz they knew he wouldn’t be able to free the civilian. Not with the trap they’d rigged to render him paralyzed and useless anytime he tried. Irate, Peter backed away from the captive and aimed his web-shooter at the leftmost cuff, snagging a strand to the restraint in hopes he could rip it off the wall from afar. But the moment he started tugging, the mind-numbing noise drilled through his skull once again. 

Peter tore the web-line from his wrist with a shout of pain and frustration. “Dammit!” he cursed, pinning his palms over his ears long after the sound had ceased. Tears stung his eyes as his head pounded and swam. The harder he fought them, the harder it became to keep them contained. Because this was what Stark wanted. This was what he saw him as. A weak little kid who needed his protection. A boy unfit for the Avengers without a mountain of Stark tech to make him useful. Someone out of his league and in over his head and incapable of saving anyone with what little power the universe had gifted him with, including himself. 

As Peter wallowed in his shame and inadequacy, a cry of terror cut through his thoughts and the cotton clogging his ears—loud enough to make him turn his throbbing head. His eyes found Johnny just as a repulsor blast from Iron Man’s palm struck him in the chest mid-air, sending the teen spiraling out of control and crashing to the concrete floor on the opposite side of the pool, gripping the spot he’d been hit as pale flames lapped off his body. 

Peter’s muscles went taut beneath his skin. Hurting him in pointed and degrading ways was one thing. But hurting Johnny? Even if he was still kinda mad at him, Peter couldn’t bear to see him beaten senseless like this by his own teammates. As much as it stung to admit, maybe Stark was right. Maybe he wasn’t strong enough to protect others and himself against opponents this powerful using only his natural abilities—especially when they knew how to exploit his weak points so acutely. Maybe he should consider adding back some of the contingency features he’d removed from his suit, so long as they didn’t slow him down too much. But right now, nothing was going to stop him from defending the Human Torch from sustaining further injury. If he could only protect one of them with his measly spider powers, he’d make sure it was Johnny. 

Ears still singing with pain, Spider-Man broke into a sprint across the dusty warehouse floor, hooking a thread of webbing to one of the metal barrels perched in the corner. When he reached the edge of the pool, he used his momentum to swing the barrel in circles above his head, spinning like an athlete in a hammer throw competition before letting the projectile fly. The canister sailed with perfect precision and struck Stark with a spine-rattling bang, knocking him into the right wall of the arena. By the time he and Rhodes had whirled around to face him, Peter was already web-slinging to the center of the pool and hooking a line of spider’s silk to War Machine’s chest, grabbing hold off the taut thread with both hands and whipping it downwards with all his strength. The webbing ripped Rhodes right out of the air and slung him into the dark water below. With the fleeting element of surprise on his side, Peter plastered Tony’s helmet with sticky silk, buoyed himself towards him, and swung a punch in the dead center of his mentor’s metal face. 

Which, in Peter’s defense, he did feel slightly bad about. But Mr. Stark was the one who’d orchestrated this entire humbling exercise in the first place, and clearly wasn’t pulling his punches or holding back. If he had no intention of going easy on his foes, neither did Peter. 

Plus, the bite of pain the hit raked across his own knuckles suggested the armor was doing a decent job taking the brunt of the blow. 

Iron Man wobbled in the air as he struggled to maintain his balance, visibly ruffled. Peter flipped onto the ceiling, shaking out his smarting hand and eyeing Johnny where he lay bunched in a ball on the floor. 

“Johnny! Are you okay?” he called to him. The only response the Human Torch offered was a low moan. A repulsor blast whizzed past Peter’s nose and blew the light fixture on his left to bits. Glass and sparks rained down into pool beneath him as he jerked his head around.

“That was some punch, kiddo,” Stark said, tearing webbing off his helmet as he hovered closer. “Good form.” A beam of red-hot energy shot out from Iron Man’s forearm, sending Peter racing across the ceiling to escape its destructive path. The teen flipped around a low-hanging rafter and launched himself at his mentor a second time, hurling a kick at the arc reactor in his chest. His heel struck exactly where he’d intended—but the armor absorbed all the power of his strike, sending a painful zing up his leg as tiny shards of glass and metal burst away from the impact site. Peter realized his mistake too late as Tony’s iron gauntlet closed around ankle. 

“But fists and feet don’t fair so well against titanium and steel,” the billionaire chuckled. With Peter’s leg locked in his grip, Iron Man spun around and flung Spider-Man into the wall. Peter’s back collided against unforgiving concrete, every vertebrae flashing with pain, spots flickering in his vision as he dropped into the pool with a splash. For the second time that day, cold like none he’d ever experienced penetrated his bones and choked his lungs. Peter clawed for the surface, a shuddering breath tearing from his throat. At least the icy water helped snap his senses back into focus.

“If you were wearing the Iron Spider suit I’d made for you,” Stark continued goading him, “perhaps you’d have a slightly better chance of defeating me. Or at least getting a few decent hits in.”

“You b-bastard,” Peter hissed through chattering teeth, limbs shivering as he crawled up the wall and out of the pool. “Hurting my friend and m-making my ears bleed wasn’t enough for you? Did you really have to add ‘give Spidey hypothermia again’ to that list?”

“A built-in suit heater sure sounds nice right now, doesn’t it?”

“Denting your f-face plate some more sounds nicer.”

Peter’s head buzzed in warning right as War Machine burst from the water hardly a foot in front of him, his metal fist swinging straight for Spider-Man’s chin. Peter caught his hand before it could strike him and twisted it to the side, drawing a squawk of surprise from the man in the armor. As Peter kicked him hard in the stomach, Rhodey raised his free hand towards the masked hero’s face, and Spider-Man’s vision suddenly went white. Searing light detonated directly into his eyeballs, making him cry out and grasp his eye lenses. Fucking flash bombs! he cursed in his mind, unable to shake the blindness or the pain no matter how much he rubbed or blinked. The only thing protecting him from the flurry of punches Rhodes was slinging his way was the sharp tingling in his skull screaming at him to move. Dodge left, right, down, up! Block now, jump now, duck now, run!

Out of options and peppered in bruises, Peter flung himself at Rhodey and stuck to his chest, scrambling blindly over his shoulder and winding up on his back. He wrapped his arms around the armored man’s neck and squeezed—hard. Rhodes gagged and coughed, grappling with Peter’s forearms as they choked him, his metal fingers biting into the vigilante’s skin. 

“Sorry, Mr. Rhodes!” Peter exclaimed, tightening his grip even more while the metal man flailed about. “But you’re kinda being a dick right now!”

As the two heroes scuffled and brawled, Peter’s vision slowly started coming back to him in patchy, overblown fragments. But it wasn’t returning fast enough, and there were too many warning tingles coming from too many different directions for him to evade every threat for long. 

“Tones!” Rhodey sputtered out, the reactors on his gauntlets heating against Peter’s skin. Peter fought not to let go at first, gritting his teeth against the scorching pain. But a wild throb in his head alerted him of a particularly dangerous hazard flying at him from behind. He tried releasing his hold on War Machine’s throat so he could dodge whatever it was in time, but found himself trapped in Rhodes’ grip. The armored man had turned the tables on him! He was keeping him in place, not letting him escape. Before Peter could tear free of his grasp, a dreadfully familiar ping rang out uncomfortably close to his ear, followed by an explosion of agony in the center of his back. 

“Gah!” Peter screamed, muscles spasming, his skeleton turning to glass inside him. For the next few seconds, he couldn’t seem to move his limbs. The pain was devastating. White noise enveloped his mind. He feared for a moment that his spine had been snapped in two. One more of Stark’s repulsor charges shot from point blank range like that, and he’d black out for sure. Stars danced across his patchy vision as his body reeled and ached. Now that Spider-Man was no longer suffocating him, Rhodes seized Peter’s arms just below his elbows and flung him over his head. The masked hero vaguely felt himself sailing across the room and waited for the crack of his bones against concrete. 

When he finally did hit something solid, it was weirdly warm and much softer than he expected. Peter peeked his stinging eyes open to find himself cradled in the arms of the Human Torch, who was breathless and kneeling and coated in dim flames. The two of them were on the ground, not the air; Johnny must’ve been too battered and winded to fly. Despite this, he’d still managed to break his fall. He’d caught him. 

“Gotcha!” Johnny huffed out. Then his eyes snapped upwards, and his smile dropped. “Oh, fuck me.”

Peter followed his gaze down the nozzle of the fire hose that was now aimed directly at them. Rhodes must have retrieved it while the pair were distracted. Peter squirmed to try and block Johnny, but water plumed from the tip before either teen had a chance to move, crashing into them like a bullet train made out of liquid. Shrieking and sputtering, the two heroes were blasted across the arena in a bushel of bruised knees and scuffed elbows, rolling and tumbling across the floor until their bodies met the back wall, a symphony of groans rising from their tangled, dripping forms. Once again, Spidey and Johnny had been pushed behind their designated boundary line: safe for now, but back to square one.  

“Tough break, boys,” Tony called to the moaning mass of mangled teenagers. “Better luck next time.”

“Only seven minutes left,” Rhodey reminded them breezily. “Things aren’t looking so great for you or poor Mrs. Chained-Up Dummy back there.”

Snickering, the armored men returned to their stations above the dark pool, leaving the two young heroes to soak in their failure as they gingerly unraveled themselves from one another, wincing and hissing in pain.

“Owww,” Johnny whimpered, dropping back on his haunches, gripping his face in his hands. “Oh god. My everything.”

“Are you all right?” Peter asked raggedly, reaching out for Johnny’s cheek. His entire body felt like one gigantic bruise. His eyes still burned from the flash bomb, but his back and shoulders hurt worst of all—every muscle surrounding his spine pulsing with nauseating pain. His fingers hovered just above Johnny’s delicate skin, scared of touching him for more reasons than one. “Let me see.”

Reluctantly, Johnny lowered his hands from his face, his picturesque features pinched tight with discomfort. Courtesy of Mr. Stark’s fist, a bright red welt was already forming on his freckled cheek, tinted purple along the edges and very swollen. On top of that, his left eye had a small bruise just below his brow bone, and his bottom lip was split right down the center, glistening with fresh blood. He must’ve taken a few other hits to the face that Peter hadn’t seen. 

“Fucking hell,” Peter exhaled in dismay, covering his mouth with his hand. “Johnny…”

“Is it bad?” he asked meekly, prodding at his puffy cheek. The sight of him all bruised and bloodied minced Peter’s heart into jagged chunks of regret and shattered something inside him he never knew could break.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter said. He hung his head, balling his hands into fists on top of his knees. “You put yourself through the wringer so I could save the captive, but I couldn’t do it. I’m not…I w-wasn’t strong enough...”

“Shit. It’s bad, isn’t it?” Johnny palmed his face with a groan. “Goddammit. I have a music video I’m supposed to star in in two days! I can’t show up on set looking like this! What am I supposed to do now?”

Despite the guilt weighing over his heart, Johnny’s disjointed priorities brought a frail smile to his lips. At least he wasn’t too hurt to fret over something besides his appearance. Peter wrapped the Human Torch’s hand in his own, then quickly dropped it, remembering with a prick of fear where they were and who all was watching. A sigh slipped from his lips as the vigilante shook his head.

“Why did you do that?” he asked. 

Johnny frowned at him, gnawing at the cut on his lip. “You know why!” he snapped. “Now you understand how I feel watching you launch yourself face-first into fights and situations we both know could kill you! You’d rather risk your life getting beaten to a pulp than let anyone else be the hero for a change! I’m sick of it!” He cupped his cheek and gritted his teeth. “Ugh! My stupid face! I can’t even yell at you properly without it hurting!”

“Then stop yelling,” Peter couldn’t help but giggle. “Just take it easy for a sec.”

“No,” Johnny shot back bitterly. “I’m not stopping. Not until I know you’re actually hearing me.”

Peter held the celebrity’s icy glare and swallowed thickly. With a long breath out, he folded his legs underneath himself, criss-crossing his ankles on top of each other with his hands bunched in his lap. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, worrying his frozen thumbs in his lap. Serrated fish hooks sank into his heart, yanking it violently in five different directions. “I told you before: working alone is my baseline. I’m still figuring out this whole ‘teamwork’ thing. I’m not used to having anyone else around to deal with a threat except myself. As far as superhero stuff goes, I guess it’s hard for me to…depend on others.” 

Peter picked at the charred fabric on his forearms where Rhodey’s gauntlet repulsors had burnt him. “Anytime I’ve hesitated to intervene when something bad was happening in the past, people have wound up dead. Good people.” His voice wobbled a little, an age-old grief waking from deep inside him and raking its claws down his throat. “My uncle…y’know, the one who raised me like his own and whatnot…he was murdered. He died because I looked the other way when somebody needed my help. A couple weeks after getting my powers, a man I was pissed at was being robbed, and I let the thief get away. I didn’t even try to stop him, even though I very easily could’ve. I thought, ‘This isn’t my problem. Why should I step in to help someone I hardly know and don’t even like?’ So I didn’t. I let him go, feeling vindicated in my decision. And then that thief that I let escape ran outside and shot my uncle in the chest, who was waiting in his car to pick me up.”  

Hesitantly, Peter raised his eyes to meet Johnny’s. He wasn’t surprised to find them welling with tears, yet the sight still tugged at his heartstrings the way it always did. It had been over a year since he’d told anyone that story. Even though the lessons the death of his uncle had taught him were chiseled into his soul, integral to who he was, never to be forgotten, it wasn’t pleasant reliving the details of his most shameful and devastating memory. The sight of the man he’d seen as his father slumped in the driver’s seat, gagging on his own blood. The way Peter’s body had gone numb and cold. How Ben had been trying to tell him something, but was too far gone to get the words out. The sound of his heartbeat slowing to silence as Peter’s sobs echoed through the vacant streets.

“Since that day, I don’t let myself hesitate when someone is in trouble,” he explained quietly. “If a person is in danger or something bad is happening, I have to step in. I have to be the one who risks getting hurt to stop others from suffering and dying. I have to put my life in danger if that means someone else gets to live another day. Having this power means I have a responsibility to help people whenever and however I can. That’s what my uncle taught me. That’s the whole reason I became Spider-Man. This is who I am.”

Johnny was full-on crying now, which made Peter’s need to comfort him that much harder to resist. Tears streamed down the celebrity’s bruised face, staining his cheeks with dark, damp trails. Peter wondered if their teammates could see them from where they were sitting across the room.

“You never told me that,” Johnny sniffled, eyes wide and watery and brimming with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

The corners of Peter’s mouth lifted into a pained smile. “I don’t like making you cry,” he said solemnly, kneading at his achy shoulder blades. “I feel like I’m always making you cry.”

“Then stop having such a sad life!” Johnny wept. He wiped aggressively at his tears, but they refused to stop flowing. He shook his head and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, running his tongue over the split in his lip. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he croaked. That’s…a horrible thing to go through. Neither of you deserved that. First your parents, and then…” 

He trailed off, voice wavering. Peter hung his head, gripping his left forearm rigidly, unsure what to say. Heavy silence stretched between the two teens. When the Human Torch finally lifted his gaze to meet Peter’s, he exhaled listlessly, red-rimmed eyes shining with resolve. 

“I know how important protecting people is to you, even at the expense of yourself,” he said, mopping his chin with the back of his hand. “Despite how much it stresses me out and pisses me off, it’s something I really admire and love about you. You’re a remarkably selfless and brave person. Your aunt and uncle raised a good human being.”

A rush of warmth hit Peter’s cheeks. The word “love” leaving Johnny’s mouth to describe something the celebrity felt towards Peter made his tummy flutter and his heart double in size. Then Johnny jabbed an index finger between Peter’s eyes, making him flinch and blink.

“But you don’t have to carry that burden all by yourself anymore,” Johnny chastised him. “You have people you can lean on who want to fight by your side and on your behalf. People like Tony and me and the rest of your teammates—and people like the citizens you’re committed to protecting. We care about you and want to help you reach your goals and be happy.” Johnny poked gingerly at the bruise beneath his eyebrow, hissing through his teeth. “But we can’t do that if you won’t let us. Or worse—if you’re dead. You’re strong, Webs; stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. But your power has limitations just like everybody else’s. You alone can’t save everyone. You have to recognize that and let us lend a hand when you need it rather than pushing yourself past your limits all the time. You have to give other people the chance to step up and be the sacrificial hero every now and then. It doesn’t always have to be you.” 

Tears slipped relentlessly down Johnny’s cheeks as he reached out and took Peter’s hand from his lap, brushing his thumb across his bloody knuckles in delicate zig-zags. “Your life is just as valuable and worthy of being protected as everyone else’s,” he insisted. “Your pain is just as valid as mine or Stark’s or any random citizen’s. I don’t care if you heal faster, or are trying to meet some infeasible standard of altruism you’re holding yourself to in order to ease your conscience. I know it still hurts.”

Peter considered snatching his hand away, all too aware of their teammates’ attentive presence, but found he couldn’t. His breathing stilled as his throat began shrinking smaller and smaller and smaller. He had offered Johnny his heart, raw and beating and bloody, and the Human Torch had accepted it. He’d held the odious thing in his hands with tender care and gentle appraisal, like a biologist studying a rare and beautiful little bird. Then, word by word, he’d stitched up the parts of it that life had carved open, mending wounds Peter never realized cut him so incredibly deep. Reconstructing the unsalvageable piece by haggard piece. 

“Promise me you’ll let others help you more,” Johnny beseeched him, squeezing his wounded hand tight. “Promise me you’ll at least try. You’re not the only one you’re hurting when you’re constantly placing every other person’s safety above your own you know.”

The cold abandoned him where Johnny’s fingers touched, radiant with otherworldly warmth. Peter Parker took in a long, shuddering breath. In spite of it all, he squeezed his hand back. So much for selling the whole “platonic super-bros” act.

“Okay,” he said, voice small and brittle. “I’ll, um—I’ll try.” He wiped away a tear slithering down Johnny’s cheek, fondness branching through him. “But only if you promise to stop crying. Deal?”

Johnny scrunched up his features in despair. “I can’t do that,” he whimpered.

“Not all the time,” Peter assured him with a sympathetic chuckle. “Just right now.”

Johnny shook his head miserably. “I c-can’t do that, either.”

“Why not?”

Bawling, the Human Torch clasped both hands over his eyes, tears pouring between his fingers. “‘Cuz my face still hurts so fucking bad!” he sobbed. “And now I’m ugly!”

Peter doubled over with unexpected laughter, reawakening the aches and pains peppered across his body. “You’re not ugly,” he giggled affectionately. “You’re, like, physically incapable of being ugly. I promise. It makes you look cool! Like a total badass.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Johnny sniffled, resting his chin on his scraped kneecaps with a heartbreaking look on his face. “I’m sorry for yelling at you,” he mumbled.

Peter lowered his gaze. “Me too,” he conceded, flexing his gashed knuckles. “Sorry for…a lot of things. This must be the worst first date you’ve ever been on.”

Johnny hinted a smile. “Shockingly, I’ve actually had worse.”

The two boys shared a bout of belly-laughs, which quickly transformed into a duet of pained groans. Johnny grimaced, grasping the spot on his chest where Stark’s repulsor blast had struck him, misty eyes wandering up to the timer on the wall.

“Well,” he huffed drearily, “we doing this thing or what?”

Peter tracked his gaze to the digital clock overhead. Only two and a half minutes left before time ran out. 

“You’re serious?” Peter exclaimed. “You really want to give it another go?” He scanned Johnny’s battered form squeamishly. “They’ve roughed us both up pretty bad already. I’d be okay cutting our losses on this one if you’re not up for it.”

“Hell no! I’m not just gonna chicken out like some punk-ass bitch! Ben would never let me hear the end of it!” Grunting and wincing, Johnny climbed to his feet, tearful eyes filled with determination, wet hair hanging in his face. Peter stood with him, his back throbbing in protest, skin still soaked and shivery. “No way we’re going down without a fight. That stupid dummy is counting on us.”

Spider-Man smiled feebly. “If you’re sure,” he murmured, a balloon of discouragement inflating inside him as he stared across the considerable distance between them and the captive, which was bisected in two by the armored men suspended above the pool, standing guard. “Did you by chance have a plan in mind that might end better for us than mine did?”

Johnny crinkled his nose and shook his head. “Not really,” he admitted. “Your plan wasn’t terrible, necessarily—just poorly executed. I think the general concept is sound, and probably our only viable option.” He narrowed his eyes at Rhodes and Stark. “One of us distracts while the other rescues the civilian.”

“I can’t be the rescuer,” Peter confessed, shame knotting in his gut. “They have the captive’s chains rigged so that whenever something touches them, that sound that makes my brain implode goes off. It hurts too much for me to do anything.”

Johnny nodded, a twinkle of pride in his gaze. “That’s okay. Good news is, it doesn’t hurt me. I think it’s at a frequency only your super-ears are sensitive to.” Then he winced. “Bad news is, you’ll have to be the one who distracts the metal meatheads while I free the dummy.”

Peter scrunched up his brows and got to work firing up the hydraulics and ball bearings in his brain, engines humming and whirring as he studied the layout of the warehouse and the daunting foes that lay before them. In his intense ruminating, a memory from two days prior sparked to life in his mind’s eye. A skill Johnny had demonstrated a couple times before, but hadn’t made much use of other than dazzling his fans and his crush, as far as Peter was aware. Which gave him an idea. 

“Maybe you can do both,” Peter thought out loud, voice quiet. Johnny scowled at him.

“You want me to save the captive and fight the bad guys at the same time? Now you’ve gone from asking too little from me to expecting way too much.”

Peter turned to the Human Torch with an eager grin. “You don’t have to fight them,” he explained. “Neither of us do. We clearly don’t stand a chance against these guys when it comes down to brute strength or physical durability. If we try to fight our way past them, they’ll just throttle us some more.”

Johnny pursed his lips impatiently. “Then how do we get past them?”

Peter held out his palm and wiggled his fingers. “You remember that little flaming heart you created? And how you were able to control and maneuver it from afar?”

Johnny cocked his head to the side. “You mean the one I blew to you from outside the window back when I was flirting so ridiculously hard with you while you were giving me absolutely nothing in return to the point that looking back on it now it makes me want to gag myself a little?” A playful blush lit across his face as he folded his arms against his chest. “Yeah. I’m familiar.”

Peter chuckled shyly. “Yes. That one.” He tapped the center of his upturned hand. “Could you make it bigger?”

Johnny blinked, glancing down at his palm. “I mean, yeah,” he mused. “I guess I could.”

“Nice. And can you only make hearts? Or could you do something more complicated and detailed? Also—for how long and from how far away could you keep something like that lit?”

“Where are you going with this?”

Peter met Johnny’s puzzled gaze and flashed a mischievous grin, a beat of excitement thumping through his veins in harmony with his quickening pulse. He cupped a hand over his mouth and leaned in close to Johnny’s ear.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do…”

_______________________________

Stark yawned and eyed the clock on the wall of the fake warehouse for the third time in the past minute, a small sting of regret in his chest. He hovered above the deep pool at his friend’s side, turning his attention back towards the two teens standing at the far end of the arena, who had yet to make a final attempt to get past them and rescue the captive. 

Maybe I pushed them too hard, he thought, queasy with remorse. Especially Pete. 

He’d wanted to give his stubborn mentee a reality check; make him recognize just how vital it is to be prepared for anything as a hero in this world of ever-increasing threats and foes. The kid was strong, no doubt—but his unwavering commitment to protecting everyone except himself was going to get him killed one of these days. He’d had too many close calls for comfort since Tony had taken him under his wing, and he’d be damned before he let the kid die again under his watch. Witnessing Peter Parker dissolve into dust before his eyes and wading through that loss for the next five years wasn’t something Stark intended on reliving ever again for as long as he breathed. He’d done the impossible and saved the entire universe just to see that goofy little smile of his again; there was no way in hell he was going to lose him a second time. Not if he had anything to do with it. 

But there was a chance that while aiming to teach him a lesson, Tony had taken things a bit too far. In his efforts to protect something he cared deeply about, it wasn’t out of character for him to wind up critically harming the thing he was trying so desperately to keep safe. Both kids were at least standing, so they couldn’t have injured them too severely. This tough love session was meant to be a wake up call, a grounding exercise, a swift kick to the rear, not a Stark Expo of effective child abuse tactics that would cause the kid to harbor resentment towards him for years to come. 

The fact that the teens only had a minute and a half left before they lost was extra concerning. Peter wasn’t the type of kid to give up so easily. Maybe I should’ve pulled my punches a bit more… Tony considered with a pang of guilt. That repulsor blast to the back he’d hit him with while War Machine had him trapped was a pretty cheap shot. But bad guys in the real world weren’t going to exercise restraint against him like he and Rhodey might. Based on this past week alone, it was clear that Spider-Man’s enemies were out for blood. Stark had to make sure the kid had the stamina and fighting skills to take on the powerful adversaries perpetually seeking his demise. Better he be roughed up in here every now and again than dead on the street.  

When Tony’s gaze snapped into focus again, he was met with the sight of the boys charging towards them at maximum speed: Spidey swinging on swift strands of webbing while Johnny soared at his side, enveloped in flames. 

A breath of relief passed the Avenger’s lips. They weren’t going to win, obviously—but the fact that they were still trying eased some of his worries and brought a smile to his face. 

“Back for more, huh?” Rhodes called to the teens, cracking his neck and adjusting his grip around the base of the water hose. “What have you got for us this time?”

The kids answered his inquiry with a wild volley of projectile attacks launched in rapid succession. While Peter coated both of their face masks in webbing, Johnny let loose huge torrents of fire all across the arena. Only a couple of the fireballs actually managed to hit the armored men; the majority of them sailed harmlessly past their heads.

“This is your grand final attack strategy?” Tony chuckled, burning the spider webs off his helmet. “Pelting us with silly string and slightly larger balls of fire? I’m gonna be honest: I expected better from you.”

“Johnny’s barely conscious and I can hardly see straight!” Peter shouted defensively, skidding to a stop at the edge of the pool as he fired glob after glob of web fluid. “Cut us a break, would you? We’re trying our best!”

“Would Kingpin cut you a break? Would any of your enemies?” While Rhodes went after the flaming kid, Stark struck back against Peter with spates of energy from his palms, which had his mentee backpedaling feverishly and leaping left and right. While he was off-balance, Iron Man darted forward with the aim of slugging him in the temple. “Don’t think so.”

But the kid was quick; Tony only managed to graze his forehead with the edge of his metal fist. The instant after he swung, Peter seized his arm and turned his velocity against him, combining that with his considerable strength to flip him over his shoulder and ram him into the ground. Spidey followed up by latching a line of silk to his helmet activating the tasers in his web-shooters, sending shocks across Tony’s metal exterior. His armor easily absorbed the electricity the way it was designed to, but still: he admired the kid’s effort. 

“Nice try,” Stark said, wrapping the web-line around his fist and yanking it towards himself, dragging Peter with it. The teen yelped in surprise, frantically detaching the thread from his wrist, but it was too late. Tony grabbed hold of the kid’s arm and doubled back the electricity he’d just hit him with, zapping the masked hero silly and pulling a cry of pain from his lips. Iron Man floated off the ground with the boy in his grasp, dangling his limp form above the ice cold pool as Peter twitched and moaned from the shock. “But I’m afraid you’re outta your league, bud. You can’t beat me.”

Breathing hard, dazed and dizzy, Peter peeked one eye lens open, knotting both hands into fists. “I don’t h-have to beat you,” he panted, no doubt mean-mugging him with the world’s most withering glare behind his mask. “I just have to outsmart you.”

“Is that so?” Tony snorted. “I’m afraid that’s gonna prove just as difficult, kiddo.” He gave the flimsy teen a light shake. “You do know I have four doctorates, right?”

Peter coughed weakly, then chuckled. “Were any of those doctorates in close-up magic or misdirection?”

Stark frowned at him, a crumb of suspicion creeping in. Before he could unpack what the kid was insinuating, Rhodey let out a gasp. 

“What the hell?” he exclaimed. Tony whirled around to face him. His friend had the firehose aimed at a flame-engulfed Johnny Storm, the powerful stream hitting him in the dead center of his chest. But the water was passing straight through his body and spewing out of his back. He wasn’t solid somehow. When Rhodey maneuvered the nozzle to douse the rest of Johnny with water, the flaming teen disappeared completely, evaporating into the air in a puff of smoke. 

“Where did he…?” Rhodes stammered. The sound of metal chains pinging against concrete met Tony’s ear, echoing from behind them. Skewered with realization, Stark spun towards the dummy.

“It’s not real!” Tony shouted. “He made a copy of himself out of fire!”

Actual Johnny, who had successfully freed the captive from its bonds while they were preoccupied with his clone, froze at the far edge of the pool, clutching the crash dummy against his chest with a startled look on his face.

“Uh-oh,” he squeaked. 

“Since when has he been able to do that?” Rhodes balked. “The fake Johnny was dodging my attacks and everything!”

A spidery sucker punch to the jaw had Stark seeing stars for a second. Peter wrenched out of his mentor’s grip and scurried onto his metal shoulders, kicking off his helmet to launch himself into the maze of rafters overhead. 

“Johnny!” Peter hollered, slipping the web-shooter off his left wrist and winding back his arm. “Catch!”

Spider-Man flung the device across the room. Johnny burst into flame and snatched the web-shooter out of the air, booking it for the safe zone on the opposite side of the warehouse. 

“Grab him!” Stark yelled. He made a break for the Human Torch but was jerked to a violent halt by something stuck to his back. He glanced over his shoulder to find Peter crouched against the ceiling, holding strong to the thick thread he’d snagged to Tony’s spine, groaning with exertion. The tensile strength of that webbing of his was a truly remarkable scientific feat. But Tony wasn’t gonna let it stop him. 

A tiny phaser poked out of his armor at the tip of the Avenger’s shoulder and fired a laser beam of pure energy, slicing the web-line in half. But as soon as Stark had freed himself and turned to face Johnny again, a giant wad of new webbing splattered across his viewfinder, leaving him blind for a moment.

“Agh!” he shouted, tugging and clawing at the gum-like substance. “Seriously?”

The Human Torch let out a whoop of glee. “I did it!” he cheered. “Did you see that? I hit him! No wonder you love lathering people in webbing all the time! This is so fun!” Banking low to the surface of the pool, Johnny proceeded to shower Rhodes in dense globs of spider webs, making an animated “pew, pew!” sound with his mouth every time he let another sticky volley loose. Meanwhile, from behind, Peter lassoed War Machine’s arms with threads, preventing him from waterboarding or repulsor-blasting either of them again. 

Rhodey thrashed and cursed, visionless and retrained. Through the small gaps in the webbing that blocked his field of view, he could see Stark struggling to gain his sight back as well. Fending off one lycra-wearing teenager with web-shooters had proved simple enough. But fighting two of them while they both cocooned him in web fluid from varying angles and directions? 

Perhaps Rhodes and Tony had underestimated these kids.  

“Go, Johnny! Fly for your life!” Spider-Man shrieked. 

Johnny bolted past War Machine while he was indisposed, but Stark was ready for him. He cleared the rest of the webbing from his helmet and rocketed after the flaming teen, pumping everything he had into his thrusters. Johnny screamed in surprise when Stark body-checked him into the wall, fire flaring out from his silhouette where he struck hard concrete. Tony pinned him against the sideways surface and made a grab for the dummy, but Johnny had enough sense to chuck the captive away the second he found himself caught.

“Spidey!” the Human Torch cried. 

“Got it!” the masked teen called back, streaking by on hasty filaments of webbing, scooping the dummy right out of the air. Iron Man cursed under his breath. 

“Rhodes!” He hollered. Fortunately, his friend was already one step ahead of him. War Machine zoomed on Peter’s tail, his entire suit still covered in webbing, the repulsors on his hands and feet propelling him far faster than the kid’s sticky threads could ever hope to carry him, especially with only one web-shooter. Stark abandoned the teen celebrity and joined the mad chase, hurtling after his mentee. 

Shit! Peter thought, pulse pounding, spider sense screaming, every muscle in his body driving him forward as quickly as physically possible. He could feel the armored men gaining on him by the millisecond, but the boundary line he had to cross in order for them to win was just a few yards ahead. Come on! I’m so close!

The final web-line that would buoy him to victory shot from his wrist. But just before it reached the ceiling, a red laser tore across the battlefield and slashed through the thread. For a moment, Peter flailed through the air like a bug launched from a slingshot. He had no time to catch himself on another strand of silk. All he could do was rattle off every cuss word under the sun as he crashed to the ground, every ache and bruise in his body roaring from the impact. He rolled to his feet in an instant, shifting gears to an all-out sprint, but the two Avengers were already upon him. 

What started as a high-speed chase transitioned into the world’s most terrifying game of keep-away. The armored men dog piled him, metal gauntlets punching and grabbing as Peter switched the dummy between his hands, hid it behind his back, held it out of their reach, rolling and dodging and kicking and fighting to keep the captive just beyond their grasp. All of them knew they didn’t have to take it from him; they just had to prevent him from getting across the finish line long enough for time to run out, which was only seconds away. 

“Throw it, Webhead!” Johnny’s voice called out to him from somewhere he couldn’t see. In the same instant, the metal hand gripping the arm Peter was clutching the dummy for dear life with started electrocuting him, and the piercing sound that threatened to crack his skull in half began hollowing out his eardrums a fourth time. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, couldn’t handle another second of the pain. They were too strong for him. He couldn’t win this on his own. Johnny was their only hope. 

Peter summoned the last remnants of his spider strength to tear away from the two armored assailants long enough to chuck the captive blindly into the air, falling hard on his belly in the process. But when Peter opened his eyes and lifted his gaze, his heart sank. Johnny sailed overhead right on cue to catch the civilian. But Rhodey had anticipated their final play and cut between them at the last second, maneuvering directly above Peter’s head. Spider-Man had tossed the dummy straight into his waiting hands. It was over. They’d lost.

“Nice catch, Rhodey,” Stark breathed in relief.

“Phew! That was a close one!” Rhodes let out a winded laugh, holding up the captive victoriously. “For a minute there, I really thought you had us!”

Dazed with pain, Peter rose to his hands and knees with a sour knot in his stomach. Ugh. Dammit! If only he’d had both his web-shooters when he was racing across the arena at the end. Maybe he would’ve been fast enough to cross the boundary before they caught him. Giving one to Johnny had been a mistake. He should’ve known it would cost them the game.

Then, as quick as a whip, a thread of webbing cut across Peter’s line of vision and stuck to the dummy with a wet splat, ripping it right out of War Machine’s grasp. All eyes watched in awe and disbelief as the captive zipped through the air straight across the boundary line—and right into Johnny’s hands. 

Immediately, the glowing blue line etched around the safe zone switched to a dazzling green. The bell that signified their time was up sang from the speakers while the array of projections blanketing the room dissolved away. As the space transformed back into a sterile gray arena, Peter gaped as wide as the sun, then broke into the biggest smile in the entire world. Johnny looked just as shocked by what he’d accomplished as everyone else.

“Johnny!” Peter cheered, bounding to his feet and racing towards him, throwing his hands in the air. “You did it! We won!”

“I did?” Johnny stammered, blinking down at the dummy like it had just magically teleported into his possession. Then his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Holy shit! I did!” He cackled maniacally, spiking the captive into the ground like a football. “Take that, you dumb dummy! We rescued the hell out of you!” 

“Yeah we did!” Peter laughed. He threw his arms around Johnny and lifted him off the ground, the two heroes twirling and giggling and cheering in triumph. It was only after they met each other’s gazes and lost themselves in one another’s eyes a little too long that the boys realized their mistake. Flushing crimson, the teens sprung away from each other in one simultaneous motion of panic, clearing their throats and scratching their necks and avoiding eye contact. Peter dropped Johnny back on his feet so fast, the celebrity almost face-planted into the floor. 

“I mean—it was mostly me who made it happen,” Johnny coughed sheepishly. “Having you as a teammate actually slowed me down more than anything. You’re, uh…super annoying. And a piss-poor hero. In fact, I’m signing up for Daily Bugle email alerts the second I get my phone back.”

“That was amazing!” Peter exclaimed, too ecstatic to play into Johnny’s terrible attempt at lying. “The fire clone plan worked perfectly! You made it look so real! Not even I could tell it wasn’t really you!”

Johnny blushed and shrugged. “It was surprisingly easier than I thought. I’m kinda mad I never thought to do that before. The hardest part was making the clone dodge Rhodes’ attacks while I was melting the chains off the captive.”

“And your web-shooting? Oh my god! You picked it up no problem! You’re a total natural!” Peter punched him playfully in the shoulder. “Can’t multitask my ass. You’re never allowed to use that excuse to get out of anything ever again.” Riding high on the felicity of their last-minute upset, Peter spun on his heels and pumped his fist high in the air. “In your face, Mr. Stark!”

A sharp gasp escaped him when he found Iron Man standing right behind him, towering over his tragically unimpressive stature. He sobered up in an instant, staggering back a step, struggling to read Tony’s current disposition with the helmet still covering his face. Peter swallowed uneasily.

“I…um…” the young hero stuttered. He stiffened when Stark extended an arm towards him, then slowly relaxed when he felt his hand brush the top of his head, patting him affectionately.

“I’ve never seen someone so damn motivated to prove me wrong,” Tony chuckled, doing his best to ruffle his hair through his mask. “Great job, kid. That was crazy impressive. You’re always finding new ways to surprise me.”

Peter hunched his shoulders with a hesitant smile. “Being punched and blasted and bullied and chased by two indestructible tin men is a pretty compelling motivator,” he mumbled sorely. 

Stark gave his forehead a gentle shove and dropped his hand to the side. “We didn’t hurt you too bad, did we?”

Peter spared a glance at Johnny’s beat-up face and stretched his spine with a grimace. “We’ve been through worse,” he decided languidly. He kneaded a finger into his left temple. “That awful sound-blast thing you kept hitting me with was super mean, though. My head won’t stop pounding.”

“Sorry. I guess there is such a thing as driving a point a little too far home.” The Iron Man helmet retracted back into his armor, revealing his mentor’s apologetic smile and the gnarly black eye marring the right side of his face. “If it’s any consolation, you got me back for it pretty good.”

Peter’s jaw dropped at the hinges. “Holy shit, Mr. Stark!” he cried, gripping the sides of his head. “Your eye! Did I do that?” His punch had left a dent in a small part of Tony’s face plate, but he hadn’t expected the resulting wound to be this dramatic.

“I had it coming,” he assured him with a wave of his hand. “If anything, I’m proud of you for counter striking with the same militance I was dishing out. You were holding back and staying mostly on the defensive until I went after your little flaming friend.”

Peter’s ears went hot as Tony turned to Johnny with a lighthearted smile. “Sorry about that, by the way. You gonna be all right?”

Still slightly teary-eyed, Johnny rubbed at the welt on his cheek, pouting his bloody lower lip. “Not without several ice packs and two sleeves of Thin Mints followed by a boiling hot bubble bath packed to the brim with lavender epsom salts,” he said feebly. 

Tony snickered. “That can be arranged.” He looked to Peter again, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get both of you patched up and properly compensated for your victory, yeah?”

Rhodes dropped to the ground on Stark’s left, retracting his helmet and rolling his neck with a groan. “Tell me again how you convinced me to partake in this stupid team-building game of yours?”

Tony clapped his grumpy friend hard on the back. “Let’s get you patched up too, butterfingers. Thanks for making us look bad in front of everyone, by the way. You practically handed the civilian over to these brats on a silver platter.”

Rhodey scoffed, shrugging him off. “Gimme a break,” he grumbled. “I had no stake in this. You’re the one who wanted to take them on ourselves. My vote was for the drones to do the beating and lesson-teaching, not us.” He nodded towards Johnny. “On that note, I’ll take a triple order of what the hot-tempered kid requested. Three times the bubbles and thrice the number of Thin Mints. Throw in a prime New York strip from Royal 35 while you’re at it.” He rapped his knuckles against Tony’s skull. “Chop chop, money bags.”

Tony sighed. “So that’s two extravagant bubble baths, around ten thousand Thin Mints, and a grand steak dinner for Mr. Debby Downer over here.” Stark raised an eyebrow at Peter. “Anything you’d like to tack onto that list, kid? I’m buying.”

“Does this mean you’re gonna stop badgering me about being safe all the time?” Peter asked eagerly. “That’s what you said, right?”

Stark broke into a laugh, patting the teen’s head some more as he blinked bewilderedly. “Yeah—like hell I’m doing that. Did you learn nothing from this exercise, kiddo? Are you nuts?”

Peter’s wide grin twisted into a scowl. “But that was the deal! You told me if I beat you, you’d quit constantly hounding me about protecting myself! You can’t back out on it now just because you lost!”

“You may have won the game,” Stark clarified, twirling his finger through the air, “but you didn’t beat me. It takes more than a punch to the eye to knock me down for the count. If you were to face me in a real fight, weapons hot this time, I’d have you lying in a bloody, unconscious puddle in seconds.” He placed his hand on his hip, a cruel smirk on his lips. “If you ever want me to truly stop worrying about you, you’d have to defeat me along with every other hero in this building. Then, and only then, would the safety hounding officially cease.”

Spider-Man wilted. “Oh, great. AKA, never.” He crossed his arms with a crabby huff. “I don’t think any of the Avengers could accomplish that! Not even you! That’s so unfair!”

Tony’s smile softened. His hand crept forward, hidden from Peter’s view, and delivered a killer pinch to his ribs. Spidey leapt from his touch with a squeal, hugging his arms around his torso, cursing the childish laughter the surprise attack elicited. 

“Which is why I worry about the safety of everyone here,” he explained to the giggly teen. “All day, every day. That’s my job, kid. Get used to it.” 

While Peter rubbed his rib cage, grouchy and pouty and pink with embarrassment, the billionaire corralled the boys towards the elevator, glancing back at those still standing in the viewing room. “Lang, Grimm, you two are up next. You’ll face off against Dr. Banner and Wilson. Go ahead and get started. I’ll be back in just a bit.”

Susan and Reed hurried into the arena after them. “We’re coming, too,” Dr. Storm insisted, following the group into the elevator. “I’ll help my brother with his wounds.” Despite Johnny’s protests, she stepped between the two teens and held a careful hand to her younger sibling’s face, a line crinkling between her eyes. 

“That was an incredible comeback, you two,” Mr. Fantastic beamed, eyes a little too bright and smile a little too keen for Peter’s liking. “You guys had some seriously impressive chemistry going on out there. You know—as far as creative strategizing and teamwork goes.” The scientist grinned at the Human Torch. “Wouldn’t you agree, Johnny?”

Johnny’s face went scarlet beneath his sister’s gentle fingers, panic flashing in his eyes as they flicked over to Peter. Even though Dr. Richards’ was clearly onto them, a fact that injected Spider-Man’s entire skeleton with dread, he had to bite back a snort when he saw the look on Johnny’s face. His feelings manifested themselves so flagrantly across his expressions, Peter had to wonder how it took him so long to realize the celebrity liked him back. 

“Hey Spidey,” Johnny said with an awkward laugh, brushing off Reed’s question. “You, um—you know what that fight reminded me of? That battle you had a while back where you met that superhero girl you like so much! You know—the one that you have a giant crush on?”

Now it was Peter’s turn to blush. He appreciated that Johnny was trying his best to keep their relationship a secret, despite how difficult it evidently was for him. But poor, sweet Torchy had a habit of being a little too aggressive and on-the-nose with his lies. Peter was hoping for them to stay discreet, under the radar, not push this fib about some fake girl he liked to even more of their teammates. All eyes of the group swerved to him in surprise, tinged with curiosity, making the masked hero swallow.

“Er…yeah! Sure. I guess so…” He shifted his weight between his feet, longing for a change in subject. 

Reed glanced between the two teens skeptically. Tony smiled at Peter and narrowed his eyes.

“Oh yeah. That reminds me. While I’m fixing you up, I can finally interrogate you about this mystery crush of yours, since you won’t stop being so cryptic about it.” He patted Peter on the head again and nodded at the Human Torch. “Thanks, Mr. Storm.”

Peter grimaced beneath the metal hand violently smothering his scalp. “Yeah, thanks, Johnny,” he murmured sardonically. He ducked out of his mentor’s reach, rubbing at his head with a scowl. At least Tony hadn’t caught on to who Peter’s real crush was just yet. Reed was the one they clearly needed to watch out for.  

Peter avoided Stark and Richards’ gazes all the way down to the 66th floor, sweat gathering behind his knees as his brain scrambled to slap together some kind of backstory that would convince them that this made-up superhero girl was real, and that she was the person he had developed undeniable feelings for; definitely not the strawberry-blonde celebrity with eyes like sapphires and skin like silk who’d just fought by his side to conquer unbeatable odds currently standing three feet to his right. 

_______________________________

“So you don’t know her name, don’t know what her powers are or where she’s from, have only met her twice, yet you’re 100% certain this is the person you want to pursue?”

Peter sat stiffly on the medical cot as Stark swabbed the gashes on his knuckles with medicated wipes, heart hammering and throat burning from all the lies he’d been word-vomiting onto his mentor for the past ten minutes. Johnny lounged on the bed to his left, listening in on their conversation as Sue tended to his face.

“Yep. That’s correct,” Peter laughed anxiously.

“You’re either a pathetic weirdo or a hopeless romantic,” Tony chuckled. “For the girl’s sake, I hope it’s the latter.”

“Me too,” Peter mumbled, wincing a bit when Stark mopped a particularly tender spot on his hand. The towel Tony held was streaked in bloody splotches, which granted Peter the potential escape from this topic he’d been looking for. “Your plan worked, by the way,” he added quickly, flexing his sore fingers. 

“My plan?” Tony inquired. He tossed the bloody wipes into the trash.

“Pummeling and crippling me into realizing that maybe I shouldn’t have stripped my suit of all the helpful features you put into it.” No better diversion than telling someone they were right about something neither side was eager to concede. Peter drooped a little, rubbing gingerly at his throbbing temple. “I never understood how easy it is to incapacitate me until now.”

“I still don’t get why you felt the need to take any of them out in the first place,” Stark groused, wrapping gauze around his knuckles. “Everyone on this team uses advanced tech to compensate for their deficiencies and expand their skill sets. Why shouldn’t you do the same?” Releasing his bandaged hands, Stark raised his gaze to Peter’s and gave his upper arm a light squeeze. “When we first met, you loved the suit I gave you and all the bells and whistles that came with it—to an almost unhealthy and obsessive degree. Now you want to go back to an arsenal of nothing but flimsy lycra and web-shooters standing between you and certain death? I gotta know what changed.”

Peter folded his hands in his lap, scratching at the gauze on his knuckles. “I meant what I said before,” he said sullenly. “As helpful as the tech is, it does add a significant amount of weight to my suit. Being as fast and nimble as I am has in many cases been the only reason somebody has made it out alive. Sometimes the difference between life and death depends on whether I can reach a person a millisecond faster than a bullet or a train or an enemy can. Anything that slows me down, even marginally, could mean I don’t rescue them in time.” Peter’s gaze slid from Stark to the Human Torch. “Like when that psychopath in the van almost shot Johnny.”

Johnny straightened his spine in surprise. “You mean when I nearly got my head blown off by that guy with the handgun, but you knocked me out of the way?” Sue wrinkled her nose at that image as she held an ice pack against her brother’s swollen cheek. Peter nodded. 

“Exactly. If I had hit you even an instant later, you’d be dead right now. I can’t risk other people’s lives like that just ‘cuz I want some fancy gadgets added to my suit. It’s not worth it.”

Reed and Sue studied Peter out of the corners of their eyes for a moment before returning their attention to Johnny’s wounds. Tony mulled over the young hero’s words for a moment, then heaved a weary breath. 

“I get where you’re coming from,” the Avenger assured him, patting the teen’s knee. “And I can do what I can to make sure the hardware we install is as light as physically possible for yah. But you have to understand that these features are designed to keep you alive, and keeping yourself alive is an equally important endeavor to keeping others alive when you’re a superhero. You need to prioritize your own life and wellbeing as much as you do everyone else’s. You know you can’t save anyone if you’re dead, right?”

Peter’s expression hardened. He balled his hands together in his lap. “I know, but—”

Stark smacked his palm against the mattress. “No!” he cut in, making Peter flinch. “No ‘buts.’ Not for this! That’s the end of it. You’re not gonna make me watch you die again, kid. I won’t let you.”

Stunned, Peter raised his eyes to Tony’s, a shudder darting through him at the pain sketched across his mentor’s face. Shock and shame pooled in the pit of the vigilante’s stomach. He’d almost forgotten what Mr. Stark had gone through thanks to Thanos and the Blip. The five years he’d been left alone, guilt-ridden and suffering, thinking Peter and Strange and so many others were gone for good thanks to his failure. What had only felt like seconds to Peter had been half a decade of despair and mourning for 50% of the world’s population, including his idol. He didn’t have to pretend to know what losing him might feel like: he’d already lived through it before, and was clearly resolved to never do so again.

“You’re talking about the Blip, aren’t you?” Reed interjected despondently. Peter and Tony turned to him as he sunk into the chair by Johnny’s bedside, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Those five years…that was the lowest point I’ve ever hit in my life. My entire world vanished in an instant. Susan, Ben, Johnny. I was the only one left alive.” 

Peter’s heart skipped in disbelief. He hadn’t known that about Dr. Richards. There were too many people across too many communities who had been in his position: families and support systems and friends and lovers torn apart by Thanos’ snap, with those who survived left utterly alone for five long years. 

“Reed,” Sue breathed hollowly. She reached out and took her boyfriend’s hand in her own, grasping it tight. Dr. Richards planted a kiss on top of her knuckles and offered her a frail smile, running his thumb up and down her wrist. 

“I know how it feels to be powerless to protect the ones you care about,” Reed said softly. “How you’d do anything for a second chance. The people on this team mean everything to me. I lost them once, then nearly lost them all over again because of my own arrogance and complacency.” He met Stark’s gaze with cold certainty in his eyes. “That’s why we’re here. So we can learn how to use our powers to protect ourselves and others from enduring that loss again. So we can be as strong and fortified as possible to face any threat that comes our way.”

Tony nodded solemnly, then turned back to the wilted teen on the hospital bed in front of him, whose face was downcast. He laid a hand on the boy’s slumped shoulder with a fond ache in his chest. “I care a lot about you, kiddo. Do you understand that?”

“Yeah,” Peter said after a small pause, keeping his gaze on the floor. 

“And It’s okay to let the people who care about you help you stay alive.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

“Nobody will think less of you for using the resources available to you to protect yourself. You’re allowed to sacrifice a smidge of your super speed for the sake of self-preservation. If not for yourself, then do it for me, and everyone else who loves you.”

Peter winced, blindsided and cut to the heart by Stark’s unusually vulnerable words. “I…I know,” he said again, voice skeletal. Now it clicked what Johnny had meant when he said it wasn’t just himself he was hurting when he placed everyone else’s safety above his own. May, Mr. Stark, Ned, the Human Torch: it was hurting them, too. His pain was their pain whether he liked it or not. That was the burden that came with caring for someone like him, and they’d each willingly chosen to bear it despite all of Peter’s warnings and objections. Their commitment to him minced Peter up inside with guilt like no other while also setting his soul aglow with dizzying, endless gratitude. He couldn’t do this without them. He probably would’ve died a long time ago if he’d tried. Stewing in a nauseous cocktail of emotion, Peter fiddled with the bandages on his hands as Tony rubbed his shoulder with gentle, comforting motions.

“Look at me, kid.”

Timidly, Peter did. The Avenger held his gaze with a grim line between his eyes.

“Think about it for a sec. What if you’re paralyzed by sensory overload because you don’t have the input dampers installed while trying to rescue a hostage? Or too injured to save someone because your suit was designed to be light rather than to protect your body from harm? What if you can’t pull someone who’s drowning from the water because you’re too cold to swim both of you to safety? Denying yourself protection doesn’t always equate to protecting someone else, kid. In fact, it could be the very thing that sends you both to an early grave. Every sacrifice you choose to make has its own risks, benefits, losses, rewards. But no matter what, you have to take care of yourself first if you want to be strong enough to help others.” He poked Peter in the center of his chest. “Isn’t that, like, the very first thing they teach you when you fly on an airplane?”

Peter blinked at him, still marinating in the ocean of words and wisdom his mentor had bestowed him with. “I’ve never been on an airplane,” he answered shyly. “Except that one time with Happy when he flew me on your private jet.”

Tony frowned. “Oh. Right.” He paused. “You should really get out of the city more often.”  He paused again, leaning back in his chair with a huff. “Regardless, the logic still stands.” Another pause later, he crossed his arms against his chest. “Is any of this getting through to you, kid?”

The masked hero nodded, really wishing Dr. Storm and Dr. Richards weren’t around to hear him be lectured like this. “Yes,” he yielded remorsefully. “It is. We can add back whichever features you think are most vital to keeping me alive.” He lifted his eyes to Stark’s pained and heavy expression. “I’m…sorry for stressing you out so much by not prioritizing my safety enough. I forgot…” he began, but decided it didn’t have to be said again. “I…I’ll do better.”

Tony’s lip twitched into a sad smile. “Thanks, kid. I appreciate it.”

Johnny let out a dramatic groan. “Sweet Jesus of Nazareth. Finally.” He gestured to Peter with a languid flick of his wrist. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to get this numbskull to understand all goddamn day! Thank Christ Mr. Stark was finally able to knock some sense through that dense head of yours.”

Peter glared at the hot-headed celebrity. “Eat glass, you wet match.”

“Make me, Itsy-Bitsy.”

Tony chuckled. “You two have the strangest relationship,” he said, making blood rush to both teen’s faces. It seemed the harder they tried to downplay their feelings for each other, the more apparent they became.

“Don’t let him make you feel too bad,” Rhodes cut in, sipping coffee from a mug on the other side of the room. “Tony is overly protective of everyone in his life. If it were up to him, he’d slap every person on this team with a suit of armor of his own making. Hell, he’d wrap the whole world in metal if it were physically possible. His solution to everything is to encase the people he cares about in cold, impenetrable shells, even if that’s not what’s best for anyone involved.” He raised his mug in the air with a tilt of his head and a smirk. “Just because I fell for his trap doesn’t mean you have to.”

Stark scoffed, rising from his seat. “Excuse me, Colonel Douche Canoe. This is Spidey’s reprobation hour, not mine.” He waved him away. “Go take your $300 bubble bath and eat your fancy steak before either gets cold, you lousy ingrate.”

Rhodey grinned and threw Tony a salute as he strolled off towards his room, using a cane to walk now that he was no longer wearing the War Machine armor. Stark slipped a pair of sunglasses onto his face to partially obscure his black eye, then turned back to Peter with his hands in his pockets. 

“He’s not wrong, but anyways. Good talk, kid. I gotta head back up to watch the others run through the training.” He patted Peter on the back. “Can I trust you to attend to the rest of your injuries?”

Before Peter could answer, Reed stood from his chair. “I can help him,” he volunteered, joining Tony at Peter’s bedside. “Sue can handle Johnny. I’m happy to dress the remainder of Spider-Man’s wounds.”

Peter looked up at the scientist in surprise as Stark inclined his chin in gratitude. “Thanks, doc. All that’s left are the burns on his arms and the scrape on his face. Oh—and check his back as well. He probably has a bad bruise there that could use some ice.”

“I’ll get right to it,” Richards assured him. Tony gave Peter one last pat to the head, then returned to the elevator, disappearing behind the shiny silver doors. Reed took Stark’s place in the seat in front of him, scanning the masked hero with discerning eyes and an inquisitive smile. Peter squirmed in place a little.

“My, um—my injuries aren’t so bad,” he insisted, trying not to gawk at the scientific legend sitting before him. “I can easily handle them myself.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Reed said warmly. He extended a hand towards him. “May I?”

Reluctantly, Peter laid his arm in Dr. Richards’ palm. Reed turned Peter’s wrist to get a better look at the burn on his forearm, leaning in close and moving slow. He grabbed a pair of scissors off the table to his left to cut away the charred fabric surrounding the wound. As Peter watched him work, all of the millions of questions the nerdy half of his brain wanted to ask him garnered at the back of his throat and dangled on the tip of his tongue. But for a growing number of reasons, Peter kept his mouth shut, opting to sit in uncomfortable silence while the scientist tended to him. 

“I really didn’t think you two were gonna win that battle,” Richards admitted without looking up from his arm, mercifully being the one to break the ice. “But that fire clone diversion was a stroke of genius. Having Johnny swap himself with a copy at just the right moment, disguising himself as one of the fireballs being thrown so he could fly right past the enemies completely undetected? I had no clue he even possessed that ability.”

“Me neither!” Johnny chimed in brightly. “Wasn’t that awesome? I’ve never done anything like that before! Spidey was the one who came up with the idea. I thought for sure it wouldn’t work, but I’m so glad I was wrong.”

“And giving Johnny one of your web-shooting devices,” Reed continued, eyes shifting to Peter this time. “That was your idea as well?”

Peter flushed a little behind his mask. “I mean…I figured since we couldn’t beat them with strength, our only chance at winning was being unpredictable and doing things nobody would expect.”

Reed nodded, eyes sparkling with interest. “That’s how the world’s most brilliant minds operate. Thinking outside the box, trying stuff nobody ever considered possible or rational before. It’s no wonder Stark took you under his wing, or that he cares so deeply for you. You’ve got a remarkable head on your shoulders.”

Peter’s geeky little heart threatened to rupture right through his rib cage. Had he heard that correctly? The Dr. Reed Richards thought he was brilliant? First the public showing signs of finally beginning to like him, then getting kissed by his biggest crush in the entire world, and now this? He could drop dead right now and be perfectly content with his life. His usual Parker luck must have jumped ship to some other hapless soul for the day. History had proven it’d be back soon enough, but he was gonna enjoy every minute of this win streak for as long as the universe permitted.

“Thank you, Dr. Richards,” Peter said bashfully. “That really means a lot, coming from you.”

Reed finished cleaning the burn on his right arm and switched to his left, carefully swabbing at the angry red skin. “What’s even more impressive,” he went on, “is that you’re as smart as you are now at your age.”

Peter raised his eyes to Reed’s in one quick motion, caught off guard. “My…age?” he said bemusedly. 

The scientist nodded, gaze trained on Peter’s forearm. “Your mind today hasn’t even reached its full potential yet; it’s still got decades of development and expansion ahead. Which means you could very well surpass my intellect by the time you've reached adulthood.” 

Sweat broke out across Peter’s forehead. Did he find out I’m a teenager somehow? Maybe Sue had told him what she’d overheard him say yesterday in the lab—about him being on his high school’s decathlon team. He wet his lips and played dumb. “I’m…not sure I understand,” he said skittishly. 

“Johnny told us you’re the same age as he is,” Richards stated bluntly, transforming Peter’s blood to liquid concrete. “Sixteen years old.” The scientist met his gaze with an unreadable expression. “Is that true?”

Peter opened and closed his mouth like a half-dead fish, his arm going rigid in Dr. Richards’ grip. The leader of the Fantastic Four continued mending his burn, waiting patiently for his response. 

“Reed!” Johnny exclaimed, fire roaring down his arms. Sue flinched back in surprise. “What the hell, man? Don’t ask him that! I didn’t even mean to tell you!” His flames receded a little as he miserably turned towards Peter. “I’m sorry. I said it by accident. Only he and Susan know.”

Peter was too stunned to acknowledge him as he sat on the medical cot, frozen stiff. Susan lanced him with an impatient scowl. “Did you lie to my brother about that? Or are you actually sixteen?”

The pair of scientists pinned him with their stares, waiting. They had him trapped, he realized. If he said he wasn’t, and that he’d lied to Johnny, they’d never let the two of them see each other again. What sane guardians would? Not only would that make Spider-Man a liar; he’d be a creepy old weirdo deceiving a 16-year-old into hanging out with him by claiming they were the same age. Now he realized just how threatening his relationship with Johnny probably appeared to them. For all they knew, he was a full-grown man running around in a mask who had befriended their underaged teammate through lies. They had every right to be wary of him.

“I…” he stammered, knowing it was pointless. There was no quipping his way out of this one. He pinched his eyes closed and gripped his arms behind the elbows, guts tangling with dread and uncertainty. He had no choice but to say…

“Yes.” 

The word left his lips more like a squeak than a statement. He felt utterly naked despite his suit and his mask. 

“It’s true.”

Both adults’ eyes went wide. Johnny clapped a hand over his face with a whimper. Grimacing, Peter tucked his limbs in close to his body.

“I don’t, um…I haven’t told many people, though. Only Johnny and Mr. Stark. As far as I know, the rest of my teammates think I’m in my twenties.”

Sue and Reed exchanged a startled look. A whole silent conversation seemed to pass between their locked gazes. When Richards turned back to him, something had softened in his eyes. 

“If that’s true, why do you choose to keep it from them?”

Peter shrugged, body humming with anxiety the way it always did when people discovered things about him they weren’t supposed to know. “I don’t want people treating me differently just ‘cuz I’m younger than they expected,” he explained quietly. “I don’t want to be pitied or looked down upon any more than I already am. I’m an Avenger with powers that make me strong enough to fight for what’s right, the same as the rest of them. My age doesn’t change that.”

Susan shook her head slowly back and forth, features twisted in disbelief, hands falling to the mattress and digging into the plush material. “No,” she dissented adamantly. “No, that doesn’t—it wouldn’t make any sense. You’re lying to us.”

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” Johnny scoffed.

“That battle in Germany Stark told us he brought him to was nearly two years ago,” she retorted, a single vein throbbing in her neck. “Do you seriously expect us to believe Tony willingly brought a 14-year-old halfway across the world to fight on his behalf?”

Peter clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Well…he did tell me he was unusually desperate at the time. And he has said he regrets getting me involved in all that.” He unfolded his legs and dangled them off the edge of the bed. “But I’m glad he brought me along. Despite how much he pesters me about being safe all the time, Mr. Stark has always believed in me as a hero. He’s never made me feel like I couldn’t take on big challenges or accomplish great things because of my age.”

“And who are you to talk?” Johnny shot back at his sister. “You brought me to space even though I’m a teenager. How is that any different?”

“Reed and I never would’ve let you come along if we’d known the cosmic event was going to be that powerful or dangerous,” she insisted. “No right-minded adult would. Even now, we only take you on missions that we’re confident we’re capable of overcoming together. I’m in a position to make those calls because I’m responsible for you. I’m your guardian. We’re family.” She scowled at Peter, although her glare had a little less bite to it than before. “But Stark isn’t your family, is he? According to what he told us, the first time he met you was to recruit you to help him in that fight. What kind of reprobate drags someone else’s child to a war zone in a foreign country at that age?”

“Sue…” Richards said nervously, shooting a glance at the elevator. Thankfully, Tony had long departed. 

“So no, I don’t buy it. Not unless you can explain to me how Stark justified any part of that to himself or your parents.” She turned towards him fully now, huffing incredulously. “Do they even know you’re Spider-Man? Did Tony even bother to mention to them what he was planning to do with you? Because that’s bordering on kidnapping and reckless endangerment.”

Cables of bewilderment sprang loose in Peter’s chest. He hadn’t expected this conversation to turn from a surprise interrogation about Spider-Man’s age to an investigation into his mentor’s potential crimes. A beat of tense silence passed, promptly interrupted by Johnny sliding off the hospital bed and shouldering past his sister. 

“His parents are dead, asshole,” he snapped, walking to stand at Peter’s side. “They’ve been dead for a long time.”

Alarm washed across Susan’s face, quickly followed by Reed’s. Peter averted his gaze, insides squirming. As important as these two were to Johnny, and as badly as he’d like to get to know them more, they were still basically strangers to him. Having his life story randomly dumped at their feet like this didn’t feel right.

“But I was taken in and raised by someone really great,” Peter added rigidly, jabbing his elbow in Johnny’s arm to try to shut him up. “They didn’t know I was Spider-Man when Stark took me to Germany, but they know now. And they’re totally fine with it. Patronizing and naggy at times, but very supportive and loving.”

Sue recalled then what she’d overheard the masked vigilante say while eavesdropping on him and her brother the other day. Something about Spider-Man’s aunt taking over as his guardian after he’d lost his parents. If he was telling the truth then, that must be who he was referring to now.

Dr. Storm and Dr. Richards examined Peter wordlessly for the next few seconds, their fiercely intelligent eyes seeming to pierce through his flesh and probe the very fabric of his soul. Sue handed her brother the ice pack and gestured to her cheek without turning her gaze from the red and blue teen. The Human Torch pressed it to the welt on his face begrudgingly.

“Now will you stop grilling him already?” Johnny berated them. “Spidey told me these things about himself because I’m his friend and I’ve earned his trust. You two haven’t done anything to make him feel safe enough to share his personal life with you. He’s not obligated to tell you shit.”

“It’s okay, Johnny,” Peter insisted, the back of his neck heating just slightly. “It’s not like I’ve done much to earn their trust, either.”

“No, you haven’t,” Sue remarked, making Peter shrivel like a worm in the sun. She snatched her water bottle off the bedside table and took a long, angry swig, pausing a moment before swallowing. “I’m sorry, Spider-Man,” she said firmly, wiping her mouth. “But until I see who you really are behind that mask, I’m taking everything you say with a huge grain of salt. Nothing about you ever adds up. I hate the idea of anyone who feels the need to hide this much of themselves from others hanging around my brother all the time. If you ever want us to trust you, you know what that will take.”

Peter’s heart withered. Her words were nettles on already flayed skin. Johnny rolled his eyes as she marched towards the elevator, tying her hair into a messy bun at the back of her head.

“Let’s go catch the tail end of Ben’s training exercise,” she said to Reed, signaling for him to follow her.

“I’ll be right behind you, my dear.” The acclaimed scientist tore open a strip of butterfly tape. “I need to finish tending to Spider-Man’s wounds.”

Susan narrowed her eyes but chose not to argue with him. “One of us will go after he’s finished, so don’t take too long. And give Johnny’s lip one more once-over for me. It might need stitches.”

Reed nodded and waved while Sue stalked away. At Peter’s side, Johnny went white.

“Stitches?” he cried, his hand flying to his mouth. His sister ignored him, vanishing behind the elevator doors. “I don’t want stitches! Reed—tell her I don’t need stitches!”

“We’ll see if we can manage without them after I’m done with your friend,” Richards assured him with a sympathetic smile. He rolled his chair closer to Peter, gesturing to the cut above his eyebrow. “All right if I bandage that up for yah?”

Peter cleared his throat and nodded his head, still reeling from the last five minutes. “Uh, y-yeah. Sure. Thank you.”

Dr. Richards wiped away the blood surrounding the gash then slipped his fingers through the tear in Peter’s mask, carefully securing the butterfly tape to either side of the wound. Peter sat with his chin tilted downwards, struggling to keep his restless legs from swinging or bouncing. Even though he’d basically given up on ever winning Dr. Storm’s favor, it still hurt to be reminded of how much she distrusted him.

“Reed—you’re a smart guy.” Johnny sat on the side of Peter’s bed, then wrinkled his brow. “Well. Sorta. Sometimes. Smarter than my sister, anyway.” He leaned towards his teammate with his hands folded on top of his knees. “You know Spidey’s not lying about his age, right?”

A light chuckle escaped the scientist. “I’m certainly less dubious of the idea than Susan,” he admitted. 

“Tony knows he’s sixteen,” Johnny reminded him, poking Richards repeatedly in the shoulder. “Just ask him if you’re still not convinced!”

Reed smoothed down the edges of the tape with his thumbs, a coy smile lifting his features. “I think I’d rather ask him about this mysterious new crush of yours, Spider-Man. I’ve read my fair share of shocking and scandalous news stories about you, but this is the first I’m hearing of the masked menace of New York developing romantic feelings for someone.”

Peter’s body sizzled like a kettle on the stovetop. He prayed the exposed skin on his face didn’t look as red as it felt. “Oh,” he stuttered, caught off guard to say the least. The teen scratched behind his ear. “Well, er…you already heard everything about it when I was talking to Mr. Stark earlier.”

“You shared how you came to know this girl, but never explained why you actually like her. Perhaps if I knew a little more about the situation, I could help you win her affections.” Reed sipped his coffee spiritedly. “Us nerdy superheroes gotta have each other’s backs, right?”

Under different circumstances, Peter would’ve been thrilled to have one of the greatest minds in the world showing this kind of interest in his life. While the vigilante blanched before the famed scientist, Johnny barked out a laugh. 

“Since when did you decide you’re in any way qualified to give romantic advice?” The Human Torch gestured proudly to himself. “If Spidey needs flirting tips, he should get them from a real expert. AKA, the world’s most sought after luminary dreamboat heartthrob, yours truly.” 

Reed turned to Johnny with a playful glimmer in his eye. “How are things going with your crush, by the way?” When Johnny opened his mouth, then shut it again, looking ruffled and conflicted and a little pink in the face, Dr. Richards laughed. “Maybe I can help both of you lock down the people you’re pining for. I am, after all, the only person here who’s currently in a relationship, right?”

Neither teen was sure how to respond to that. If Johnny liked Spidey, but Spidey liked a girl, wouldn’t Reed’s desired outcome be impossible? This was all becoming a little too complicated to keep up with. Recovering quickly, Johnny scoffed. 

“I wouldn’t count selling your soul and dignity to my slimy bog witch of a sister as a legitimate relationship,” he grumbled. 

Reed ignored him, shifting his attention back to Peter. “Tell me what you like so much about this nebulous new superhero.”

A fresh wave of nausea swirled through Peter’s guts at the thought of summoning more lies to spew about this fake crush of his. He glanced at Johnny helplessly, unable to picture a face more breathtaking than the one staring back at him now; any other person so exceedingly capable of kicking all his faculties to the curb. Would it really be so terrible if Dr. Richards knew the truth? Peter felt that the two of them deserved at least one day to process all this without anyone else butting in. He ran a hand over his stomach, queasy with nerves. 

“Well…she’s got, uh…really pretty eyes.”

The room went quiet for a moment. Johnny blinked at him, a small muscle feathering in his jaw. Reed brightened.

“Oh yeah? What color are they?”

Peter bit his lip. How specific did he dare to be? Warmth radiated off his neck as he dug his thumb into a bruise on his knee, the soft bloom of pain helping anchor his mind. 

“They’re this really striking blue color,” he replied, a timid smile finding his lips as heat bled into his ears. “It’s like staring at a super detailed painting of the ocean just after a storm breaks, with all these sprawling lines of gray and green criss-crossing over top of one another. Like seagrass and sea foam branching through the water while beams of sunlight reflect across the surface.”

Swallowing, Peter’s gaze drifted meekly in the Human Torch’s direction. A spark of recognition touched those very same eyes he’d been describing, followed by a flush of color dusting across the celebrity’s cheeks. Johnny sucked his lips to his teeth, battling not to react, then whirled away from Peter sharply, concealing his bashful grin behind a coughing fit, the blush in his face creeping down his neck and into his freckled ears.

“Wow,” Reed mused as Johnny hacked into his fist. “That’s an incredibly vivid description for someone you’ve only met twice. She must be very special.”

Despite his best efforts, a shy giggle slipped through Peter’s defenses. “She is,” he agreed eagerly. “She’s the kind of person you don’t need to know long to fall head over heels for. I doubt I could forget those eyes even if I wanted to. She leaves a lasting impression on everyone she meets.”

Reed patted Johnny on the back as he aggressively cleared his throat. “What about your crush, Johnny? What do you like about them?”

Flustered and florid, Johnny combed his fingers through his hair and puffed out his cheeks, fighting to compose himself. “Eh…you know what? I’m over that loser. I’d rather talk about this girl Spidey’s so darn obsessed with some more.” He turned back to Peter with a mischievous grin splashed across his rosy face—the kind that flooded the vigilante’s tummy with butterflies of anticipation. “Hey, lovebug. Have you mentioned yet that you and this girl have kissed already?”

Peter slowly furrowed his brow, watching Richards’ mouth fall open in his peripheral vision. What the hell was Johnny playing at? If they were going to keep this fake heterosexual love interest of Spidey’s going for the sake of hiding their not-so-hetero relationship, they seriously needed to get their stories about her straight.  “Um…no?” he stammered warily. “I can’t…say I have…?”

“You most certainly did not,” Reed exclaimed, glancing at Johnny with a slightly worried, semi-pensive expression. “That’s a pretty key detail to leave out. And here I was thinking this was just another one-sided tragedy of a hopeless young man yearning after some clueless girl.”

“Nope,” Johnny said matter-of-factly. “She’s just as into Spidey as he’s into her. She told me about it herself.” He bumped his shoulder against Peter’s and clasped the ice pack to his chest theatrically. “She couldn’t stop raving about how great of a kisser he was—with his perfectly soft lips, his timid but eager approach, the way he left her begging for more and longing for the next time she’d be lucky enough to kiss him again. This little spider is way slicker than he’s letting on.”

Peter’s stomach did a somersault while his skin flashed with heat. Now he understood what that sly bastard was up to. If Peter was going to use this made-up girl to sprinkle Johnny with incognito compliments, Johnny was going to do everything in his power to one-up him. He couldn’t help himself, could he? He had to be the one to get the last word in so Peter was the person left most flustered by the end of every exchange, not him. 

Dr. Richards was looking more confused by the second. “That’s…quite graphic,” he murmured. “I didn’t know you were so well acquainted with this girl.”

“She did mention she wished he’d loosen up a bit more,” Johnny forged ahead mercilessly. “He was a tad stiff and static. Which is totally normal the first few times people kiss, but still. Maybe he should do something different with his hands, like running them through her hair or cradling the back of her neck instead of just dangling them at his sides. It wouldn’t hurt to soften his jaw a little, either. Oh, and she’d really like it if he pulled away less hastily, and also used more tongue.”

Boiling from the inside-out, Peter clamped a panicked hand over Johnny’s mouth as the celebrity giggled maniacally. “Oh wow, w-would you look at the time! I think Johnny is late for his bubble bath! And you for your training exercise, Dr. Richards! Thank you both for the delightfully heartfelt and uncomfortably specific dating advice. Truly. Honestly. Means a lot.”

Reed’s eyes slid between the two boys with an air of curiosity, suspicion, and something else Peter couldn’t quite pinpoint, but didn’t like one bit. “Maybe this isn’t something I want to involve myself with after all,” he decided with a snort, returning the roll of butterfly tape to the medical kit.

“Ow, ow!” Johnny yelped, voice muffled behind Peter’s palm. He tugged at the hand covering his mouth with a grimace. “Spidey! My lip!”

Peter immediately released his face. “Oh shit! Sorry!” Guilt stung him as Johnny ran his tongue over the bright red gash, his features scrunched in pain. “Are you sure you don’t need stitches?”

“Don’t remind him!” Johnny exclaimed frantically. “It’ll be fine as long as you don’t yank at it with your sticky palms!”

“You’re lucky that Spider-Man is correct: I really need to head out soon. I don’t wish to invoke the wrath of my beloved.” The scientist rose from his chair and walked to stand behind Peter, smiling cordially at the pleading eyes of his teammate. “I won’t force you to get stitches when they’re not 100% necessary. They would certainly help speed up the healing process, but it’s your decision.”

Johnny squished the half-melted ice pack against his cheek with his chin held high in defiance. “Hell fucking no. That’s my decision.”

Reed bowed his head in acknowledgment, then placed his hands on top of Peter’s shoulders. “I assume your back is fine based on your upbeat demeanor and mobility, but let me check just to be sure before I leave.” 

While Richards pressed and squeezed around his spine, Peter scanned Johnny’s face for a few seconds, piqued with new intrigue. “Why are you so against getting stitches?” he asked. When the teen reddened without responding, Reed hummed thoughtfully. 

“Johnny is afraid of needles,” he explained, kneading the heel of his hand into the small of Peter’s back. “He has been since he was little, but it only got worse after all the bloodwork and injections we had done following the incident in space.”

“I am not afraid of them!” Johnny shot back, smoke roiling off his head. “I’d just prefer not to deal with them when presented with the option! That’s totally normal! Who chooses to get stabbed in the face when you don’t have to be?”

“Don’t you have a nose piercing?” Peter reminded him. Richards stifled a snicker.

“Oh dear. Now there’s a story. Shall I regale the details of that day to your friend, or would you like to?”

Johnny bristled. “There are no details to regale. All my friends were getting piercings, so I decided to get one, too. Sue thought it would be good for me. You know—exposure therapy or whatever. I was completely fine until I saw how big the needle was!”

“If by ‘completely fine’ you mean sobbing your eyes out and fainting in the parking lot, then yes, I’d have to agree.”

Peter gawked at him. “You fainted?” he said, failing to suppress a giggle. “Oh my god. You really are scared of them, huh?”

“I have a normal amount of dislike towards them!” Johnny insisted defensively. “Quit making such a big deal out of it! It’s not that serious!”

A serpentine smile coiled along Peter’s lips. “Looks like we both know each other’s weaknesses now,” he dared to tease the prickly celebrity. Johnny scoffed, tossing the ice pack aside, which was now completely melted. 

“Not liking needles is more of an inconvenience than a weakness,” he rebuked him, a grin splitting across his face. “Yours, on the other hand, is not only debilitating, but embarrassing as all hell.”

“What’s Spider-Man’s weakness?” Reed asked nonchalantly, doing one last integrity test on his neck and clavicles. Peter sighed.

“My heightened senses can get overwhelmed by too much input. Enemies can incapacitate me with loud, sustained sounds or flash bangs, like the ones Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes used against me today.” He hunched his shoulders and cut a glare in Johnny’s direction. “But what I assume Johnny is referring to is despite my arachnid-themed name and getup, I don’t actually like spiders very much. Which I would also argue is more of an inconvenience than a weakness.”

Johnny’s magnetic eyes glinted with wicked delight. “Nope. Not quite. Your fear of spiders is also hilarious and embarrassing, but there’s a third weakness you’re forgetting.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “Uh…hypothermia? Assault rifles? Those Sarah Mclachlan ASPCA commercials?”

Johnny slid off Peter’s medical cot and placed his hands on his hips, the evil smirk never leaving his lips. “Hey, Reed—why don’t you check Spidey’s rib cage, make sure nothing’s broken? I could’ve sworn I heard one of his ribs crack during our battle today.”

Richards glanced down at Peter’s torso with a concerned wrinkle knitting between his eyes. “Really? Let me take a look.” He rounded the bed so he was standing in front of the young hero, raising his hands to either side of his rib cage.

“I don’t think anything’s broken,” Peter said dubiously. He wasn’t sure what point Johnny was trying to make until Reed’s fingers pressed into his ribs, kneading experimentally at each rung of bone to feel for any abnormalities. Peter stiffened beneath his touch, breath catching in his throat, a warm flush rising to the surface of his skin as the scientist’s hands slowly ascended his rib cage. He clamped down on the explosive giggles suddenly rallying behind his lips, amassing in his belly, begging to break loose. His arm muscles twitched with the unbearable need to slam down to his sides as Reed’s fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of him with mathematical precision. 

“Nothing feels cracked or fractured,” Richards observed, oblivious to the torture he was currently putting the masked hero through.

“Try up higher,” Johnny suggested innocuously. “That’s where I remember hearing the crack.”

Before Reed’s hands even had a chance to move, Peter already knew he was done for. A tiny whimper escaped him as his spider sense tingled in warning, followed by a high-pitched squeal the moment Reed’s fingers made contact with his uppermost ribs. He recoiled violently from his touch, cinching his arms around himself, face ablaze behind his mask. The esteemed scientist withdrew his hands, blinking in surprise. 

“Oh dear,” he said. “Are you all right?”

Peter rubbed his rib cage sheepishly, singed with color, forcing the giggles back down his throat. “F-fine,” he squeaked out. “See? Not injured.” Reed narrowed his eyes at him, not looking the least bit convinced. 

“Told yah,” Johnny jeered, tutting in disappointment. “Typical Webhead. Always trying to tough it out and hide his pain from everybody around him. When are you gonna learn that it's okay to let others help you?”

That gorgeous little bitch, Peter thought, febrile with embarrassment. Perhaps letting Johnny get to know him so well had been a mistake after all. Now the treacherous celebrity knew exactly how to push all his buttons, and clearly had no reservations about wielding that power against him. “I’m not injured!” Peter insisted, hugging his sides protectively. “You know I’m not! You’re just lying to be annoying!”

“Something must be hurting you to make you flinch that aggressively,” Reed pointed out, nudging at the vigilante’s rigid arms. “Please allow me to take another look. Broken ribs can have serious consequences if not treated properly.”

Peter retreated back from the renowned genius, blushing tremendously. “Dr. Richards, I swear I’m fine. I wouldn’t lie about something like this. I promise.”

“If that’s the case, you shouldn’t have any issues with me confirming that fact.” He raised his hands towards Spider-Man’s midsection again, but the masked hero kept his arms glued firmly to his sides, blocking him from touching his ribs. He felt ridiculous for acting so childish, but he couldn’t handle another second of those meticulous fingers poking and prodding his torso, or the thought of giving Johnny the satisfaction of out-flustering him—again—by exposing one of his least heroic attributes to someone Peter so deeply admired. Reed Richards huffed impatiently.

“Stark entrusted me with tending to all of your wounds. I can’t leave here in good conscience until I’m certain you’re not injured.”

“And I’m telling you I’m not!” Peter argued helplessly. “I’m all fixed now! There’s nothing left for you to tend to!”

Johnny chuckled like a fiend, relishing every second of Spider-Man’s pathetic floundering, crossing his arms against his chest. “I don’t think he’s giving you a choice, Reed. You’re gonna have to give him the ol’ wrap and trap.”

Peter wrinkled his brow. “The what?” he said warily. “What are you talking about?” 

Reed waved at Johnny dismissively. “There’s no need to resort to such pugnacious tactics. If Spider-Man swears he isn’t hiding an injury, I’ll take his word for it.”

Peter deflated in relief. “Thank you, Dr. Richards.” Finally. At least one founder of the Fantastic Four trusted him to some degree. Crisis averted. Peter: 1, Johnny: 0.

The scientist held his palm out to him. “Just hand me my coffee cup, and I’ll be on my way.”

Spider-Man looked over his shoulder at the table beside him and lifted the mug from where it sat. “Oh, yeah. Sure thing.” He placed the cup in Reed’s hand, who offered him a friendly smile.

“Thank you, Spider-Man.” His palm slid beneath the mug, then shot forward suddenly, his arm elongating faster than Peter could blink and coiling around the vigilante’s wrist. “Also, my sincerest apologies.”

“What the—?” Peter choked, reeling back, straining against his grasp. Mr. Fantastic’s stretchy limb wound up his arm like a lightning-quick python, buckling his elbow so that his forearm was pinned to his bicep. The scientist’s other arm snaked under and over the hospital bed thrice in a row, tethering Peter’s legs to the cot. “Wait! What are you doing? Dr. Richards…!”

“I’m terribly sorry for deceiving you,” Reed said earnestly. Both his arms worked in tandem to restrain the squirmy hero, weaving and constricting around his limbs until the vigilante’s arms were twisted behind his back and pinned between his shoulder blades at awkward angles. “But your abilities make you very difficult to subdue. I figured the only chance I had at successfully trapping you was to lower your guard and catch you by surprise. I do hope you don’t take it personally.”

The eye lenses on the vigilante’s mask stretched as wide as physically possible. He wrestled against the vice grip Richards had him snared in, all his strength and leverage made null by the masterfully executed pretzel Mr. Fantastic had braided his arms into. He clearly had experience tying up opponents much stronger than him. 

“W-why are you doing this?” Peter stammered incredulously, flustered and betrayed. “I said I wasn’t injured!”

“You also yelped like a kicked puppy when I put the slightest pressure on your upper ribs,” Richards reminded him, stepping closer. “I just need to make sure there’s nothing wrong. Don’t worry—this will only take a moment.”

The scientist’s arms wound around the bed one last time, forcing Peter’s back to lay flush against the cot, sealing his fate. Giggly panic claimed him as Reed’s hands reached for his defenseless torso, fingers hovering just above his incredibly vulnerable sides. 

“Wahait, wait, wait! I prohomise I’m not hurt! I’m just—I’m r-really—EEHAHAHAGH!”

Ten blunt fingertips drilled into Spider-Man’s rib cage just below his armpits, pinching and tweaking each layer of bone, feeling for any breaks or fractures. But the only thing crumbling beneath Reed’s touch was the teenage hero he had strapped to the hospital bed, who was shrieking and writhing in response to the gentle pressure the scientist was applying to his sides. Not in pain, like he’d been expecting—but with laughter. Puzzled, Mr. Fantastic lifted his hands off the wriggly vigilante, an amused smile tugging at his lip as he realized what was happening.  

“It would seem I made a miscalculation,” he determined. “Other than being exceptionally ticklish, your ribs are perfectly healthy. Please forgive me for questioning your dissent on the matter.” He leveled a frown on his beguiling teammate, who looked positively enraptured by Spider-Man’s skittish giggles. “How cruel of you to lie to me for the purpose of embarrassing your friend. That’s not very amicable of you.”

Johnny beamed at him with zero remorse as he skipped across the room to stand at the masked hero’s bedside. “I didn’t lie,” he said shrewdly. “You’re just not doing it right.” He cracked his knuckles and extended his hands, spidering his fingers right above Spider-Man’s narrow frame, making the vigilante flinch sideways with a gasp. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

“Noho!” Spidey cried, wrenching uselessly against Reed’s iron grip, all his dignity down the drain. “Dr. Richards—pleehease! He’s gonna kihill me!”

“Johnny…” Mr. Fantastic said disapprovingly. But his giddy teammate was already scribbling his fingers up both sides of Spider-Man’s rib cage, sending the poor, defenseless hero into complete hysterics. He thrashed and screeched and hiccuped with laughter, the bright sound of it bouncing off the lofted windows of the tower. It was so kiddy and shrill in nature, Richards was more inclined to believe that the giggly little menace could in fact be a teenager, not the full-grown adult his teammates and the world somehow mistook him for.

“STAHAHAP!” he cackled, laughing so hard that his giggles fell silent. Johnny wormed his fingers between each rung of his ribs, needling the most ticklish parts of him with intolerable veracity, short circuiting the helpless vigilante’s brain. 

“Not until you admit that this is your greatest weakness!” Johnny teased him like a supervillain, heart bursting with endearment as the webhead fell to pieces beneath his tickle attack. The noises and reactions his wiggly hands were eliciting were straight-up altering the Human Torch’s brain chemistry. Johnny had always been infatuated by Spidey’s laugh since the irresistible sound had first graced his ears, taking root dead center in his once precisely siloed mind. He’d heard Spider-Man break into giggles and laughter of all different varieties in the short time they’d spent together, each kind delightful and infectious in their own special way, which Johnny had made a point to note down and rate from least to greatest. But this one put them all to shame. This was on a whole new level of addicting. His tickle-induced laugh was by far his most adorable, and without a doubt Johnny’s favorite. 

He absolutely needed to get a video of this out to the fans. Who on earth could hear him giggle like this and not instantly fall in love?

Before he’d gotten his fill of Spidey’s incandescent laughter or had a chance to whip out his phone, Reed unraveled his noodle-like appendages from Spider-Man’s squirmy limbs, liberating the teen from the inescapable knot he’d tangled him into. Once he realized he was free, Spidey shot upright and seized Johnny by the wrists, shoving his hands away from his rib cage as fast as humanly possible, gulping down oxygen, eye lenses shuttered into thin slits. 

“Oho my god,” Spider-Man heaved, doubling over himself, breathless with residual laughter. “I hate you s-so much right now…”

“Aww,” Johnny whined in disappointment. “Why’d you let him go?” He leered at his teammate as Richards’ arms shrunk back to their original length. 

“I wasn’t going to just keep him trapped while you subjected him to that torment,” Reed stated plainly, eyeing the vigilante with a benevolent smile. “I will not be an accomplice to your maniacal scheme to tickle your friend to death.”

“You’re no fun,” Johnny pouted. He turned back towards Spider-Man, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face as he watched the giggly hero fight to catch his breath. “So then, bug boy. Tell me again what our friendly neighborhood Webhead’s weakness is?”

“You’re such a dihick,” Spider-Man wheezed, flopping backwards onto the bed with his arms wrapped around his torso. Johnny would give anything to see how red his face was right now. “Why do you always do this to me after I’ve been beaten half to death? Uhugh…”

Reed finished off the last of his coffee and cast his gaze between the two teens fondly. “Looks like my job is done here,” he said as he moved towards the elevator. “Now that you’re both sufficiently patched up, I recommend fluids, pain killers, and plenty of rest. As for your back, Spider-Man, it didn’t feel heavily bruised or swollen to me, but I imagine it must be pretty sore.”

“Very,” the vigilante groaned, stretching his spine with stiff movements.

“Perhaps a massage would do you some good. I heard Colonel Rhodes mention that your team had a masseuse on-call for training days like this. I’d ask Stark about it.”

Johnny hopped eagerly to the foot of Spider-Man’s bed. “Hey! I can do it! I give great massages.”

Spidey sat up gingerly and swung his feet off the side of the cot. “Yeah, no thanks. I think I’m good.”

“What?” Johnny exclaimed, heartbroken. “Why not?” 

“Because I know you and how your sadistic mind works,” he giggled nervously. “You’ll just use it as another ploy to be a conniving little shit. You won’t be able to help yourself. It’s, like, hardwired into your DNA. You’re far too evil to be trusted.”

The masked vigilante slipped off the bed and moved to leave, but Johnny jumped in front of him, grabbing hold of his wrist. “Spidey! Come on! I’m sorry, all right? I promise I’ll be nice. No funny business. I want to help, and Reed said it’d be good for you.” The teen cracked a smile. “Call it my repayment for making you shriek like a little girl.”

“Ah, yes. Bullying me some more while you pretend to apologize. That’ll convince me.”

“Oh my god. I shouldn’t have to be convincing you in the first place! Do you know how much some people would pay for Johnny Storm to service them like this? And not just ‘cuz of who I am, but because I’m really good at it.”

“I’d rather just pop a few Advils and pass out on the couch,” Spider-Man replied with playful indignation. “Advils and the couch don’t have secret agendas to dig their insidious fingers into my ribs.” 

“I won’t! I swear!” Johnny’s voice was laced with giggly mischief as he tugged at Spider-Man’s arm. “Just gimme a chance, Webs. One chance? You have no idea what you’re missing out on.”

Reed watched the two heroes bicker back and forth as he waited for the elevator to descend to the 66th floor, a warm and quiet nostalgia taking shape in his chest. They seemed to have forgotten about his presence entirely, too busy squabbling for each other’s trust and attention. There was a tender shyness between them that reminded Richards of when he and Susan first met, back before the space mission or Thanos or even the Fantastic Four were a thing. A transcendent pulse of hope, excitement, and nerves that made all the colors in the world stand out like they never had before—something that time and hardship had so ruthlessly stripped away from them after all they’d been through. So much had changed; so much gained and lost. Reed found it corrosive: reminiscing too long on their bittersweet memories together. He just hoped he and Sue could find their way back to each other one day; back to those two kids brimming with that same untameable spark Johnny and the vigilante now shared. 

Whatever Spider-Man and Johnny were to each other, there was an effusive bond between the pair that no amount of lies or masks could ever conceal. But with how happy Johnny was acting at present, Reed couldn’t help but assume they were romantically involved. The superhero girl the vigilante supposedly kissed had certainly thrown his theories for a loop, but she very well could be another fabrication. If the two were dating or together or something in between, it was clear they didn’t want anyone else to know about it. Not right now, anyway. 

So he would respect their wishes and not push Johnny on the subject any further. Teenage relationships were hard enough without super powers and secret identities and nosy teammates involved. He was content with staying quiet and protecting their peace, all the while silently rooting for them from the sidelines. 

As the elevator doors swept shut in front of him, Dr. Richards wondered how long the boys thought they could keep this flimsy charade going with the others. At this rate, he doubted they’d last a week before one of them slipped up. 

_______________________________

“Now will you let me work my unmatched back rubbing magic?”

Peter took another slow sip from the mug in his hands, a heavenly combination of whipped cream, mini marshmallows, and warm chocolate perfection gliding down his throat, touching the very essence of his soul. Damn you, Johnny Storm, he thought bitterly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. If that wasn’t the best fucking cup of cocoa he’d ever had in his life, then his name wasn’t Peter Benjamin Parker.

“See, the fact that you want to so bad proves you plan to do something diabolical. Uh-uh. No way.”

Johnny scooted closer to him on the couch, grinning menacingly. “Oh, I’m chock full of diabolical plans, I can assure you that. But I’m saving those for later.” He raised a hand to Peter’s cheek and turned his face towards him, trailing a finger under his chin. “Right now, I just want to do something nice for you and help ease your pain a little. And also make you admit how amazing I am at it.”

Attraction and affection squiggled and swirled all around Peter’s belly. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to how exhilarating it felt to be looked at like this, looked at by him. A timid smile overtook his features.

“You know, it’s a bit unfair for you to be amazing at literally everything you do.”

Johnny laughed softly. “Not everything,” he conceded, hand sweeping to rest on the nape of Peter’s neck. “No matter how much I ask or beg, never let me convince you I’m capable of cutting your hair. You will end up with some choppy perversion of a bowl cut, and you will hate me for it.”

“Duly noted,” Peter giggled back. Bending to the magnetic pull between them, he pressed his mouth to Johnny’s expecting lips, pure euphoria cascading through his cells, followed by a bolt of uncertainty as he tried to remember all the things Johnny had suggested he try to make kissing him more enjoyable. Fortunately, he didn’t get the chance to clumsily attempt any of them; Johnny reared back only seconds after initiating the kiss, hissing in frustration. 

“Ow! My stupid fucking lip!” 

Peter winced, cupping a hand over his mouth. “Sorry! I forgot.”

“Goddamn Tony and his damn metal sucker punches,” Johnny whimpered, nibbling feebly at the gash. “How am I supposed to cover you in hickies under these conditions?”

Jitters ricocheted around his tummy as heat tingled across his skin. “Until you’re healed, I guess I’ll have to be the one who covers you in hickies…” Peter mumbled, setting Johnny’s shoulders ablaze in an instant. “I—I mean, if that’s what you want.”

“Good lordy, Webs,” Johnny squeaked, ears glowing pink as he swooned and fanned himself. “I’m gonna light this whole tower on fire if you keep talking to me like that. Maybe your flirting game isn’t as terrible as I thought.”

Peter chuckled and blushed as Johnny interlaced his fingers with his and snuggled in close to him, laying his head on his shoulder. “And yes, I would love that,” he added with a giggle. After a minute of basking in each other’s warmth and presence and closeness, the current of indescribable happiness moving through Peter’s bloodstream suddenly came to a grinding halt.

“Do you think FRIDAY is recording us right now?” he whispered, voice tinged with dread. “Anyone can request access to her footage, and there are cameras on every floor of the tower. What if one of our teammates looks through her logs and sees us…y’know. Acting couple-y?”

Johnny lifted his head with a scowl. “That sounds a bit pervy, don’t yah think? Does that mean she’s filmed Reed and my sister doing it in their bedroom every night, and I could just ask her to show it to me if I was sick enough to want that? Yuck!”

Peter grimaced. “Oh god. I hope not. I seriously doubt Mr. Stark would allow that.”

“Why don’t you just ask her and see?”

Reluctantly, Peter raised his gaze to the ceiling. “Hey, FRIDAY?” he called, feeling a bit silly.

“Yes, Spider-Man?” the A.I. replied, omnipresent as ever. 

Peter hunched his shoulders. “Could you, um...not record us when we’re kissing or cuddling or doing any romantic stuff, please? And also maybe not tell anyone that we’re together?”

“I am programmed not to record any explicit or intimate interactions in Avengers Tower,” she assured him. Then, after a pause, added: “Unless I am directly instructed to do so by all involved and consenting parties over the age of 18.”

“Oh my god,” the boys groaned in unison, barring their brains from considering the implications behind her words. “Ew.”

“I’m also required to refrain from recording anything authorized users ask me not to record, as well as delete any files I’m told to delete. Since both of you are authorized users, from now on, all audio and video recording will be shut off or deleted instantly when you do or say anything that could be construed as romantic. Would you like me to delete past files that match that criteria as well?”

“Yes please,” Peter remarked bashfully. 

“Done and done,” she answered after a beat, drawing a sigh of relief from the masked hero’s lips. One less outing risk to worry about.

“Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“Of course,” the A.I. replied cheerfully. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Johnny quirked an eyebrow at the dim lights overhead. “You said I’m an authorized user, too. Does that mean I can ask you to send me videos you’ve recorded as well?”

“That is correct. As long as it’s not footage from anyone’s private quarters or other forbidden content, I can send you any audio or video you want.”

A villainous grin sliced across Johnny’s face. “How about the footage of Spidey laughing his ass off when I tickled him earlier today?” 

Peter balked, going scarlet. Johnny snickered maliciously.

“Yes, I can send that to you. Let me just—”

“No!” Peter yelped. “Delete that! Delete all footage like that from now until forever!”

“Spidey!” Johnny protested. The A.I. let out a small chuckle.

“I’m afraid requests for erasure override all other requests. My apologies, Mr. Storm. The files have now been deleted.”

“Aw, man,” Johnny lamented, slumping back into the couch cushions. “Why would you do that? That was the cutest video to ever exist!”

“More like most humiliating,” Peter muttered shyly.

“You know what this means, right?” Johnny said with a smirk, wiggling his fingers at him. “Now I’m gonna have to get you like that all over again. And this time, I’ll make sure my phone is recording.”

A startled squeal sprung from his throat before he could stop it. Peter grabbed Johnny’s hands and held them away from himself while the celebrity cackled and beamed, flushed crimson beneath his mask. “Why are you obsessed with embarrassing me all the time?” he giggled miserably. 

“Your laugh is the thing I’m actually obsessed with,” Johnny clarified, his watercolor eyes sparkling in awe. “It might be my favorite thing in the entire world.”

Spider-Man reddened even deeper. Only Johnny could affix him with feelings as confounding and conflicting as these. He felt self-conscious and flustered beyond all reason, yet adored and desired more than ever before in his life. How was he supposed to tell Johnny off when he was looking at him like that? The vigilante groaned.

“There are other ways to get me to laugh, you know. Nicer, less mortifying ways.”

“Not like that,” Johnny insisted, teasing yet enamored. “Not as quickly or reliably, either. Unlike me, you’re a naturally funny person. You make me laugh all the time without even trying. Getting you to laugh requires a much more hands-on approach.” He feigned a jab at Spidey’s side, making the adorable hero shrink inwards with a screech. “Especially when I want to hear you laugh like that.”

“You’re plehenty funny!” Peter retorted, shoving him into the opposite corner of the couch. Johnny fell against the cushions with a giggle. 

“Not enough to make you laugh as much as my greedy heart demands,” he shot back, rising onto his elbows. “Hearing it is like an instant dopamine hit. It is, without a doubt, your most powerful asset to get fans and haters alike to fall in love with you.”

“You’re just saying that so you can have an excuse to humiliate me some more for the entire world to see.”

Johnny crawled back to his side and nestled into his lap with a saccharine smile, tracing a lazy finger up Peter’s arm and along his collarbone. “Oh yeah? And what if I am?”

Goosebumps prickled across Spider-Man’s sizzling flesh. His heart danced and fluttered just below the surface of his skin, quickening in unison with the delicate brushstrokes Johnny’s fingertip was painting him with. This boy was getting way too good at propelling his pulse to its steepest limits. Peter very well might drop dead from all the strain he was putting his cardiovascular system through, but there were far worse ways for a lovesick teenager to go. Swallowing meekly, he sank into the sofa with his arms folded across his torso. 

“Well, now I’m definitely not letting you rub my back.” 

Johnny’s grin dropped in the most heart-wrenching manner imaginable. “Spidey! Come on! You have to! Reed said it was medically necessary!”

“I’ve managed to survive this long without it. I think I’ll take my chances.”

The celebrity squeezed his arm and arrested him with those striking baby blues. “One minute. Let me work my magic for just one short minute, and if you hate it, I’ll stop right then and there, and never bug you about it again.”

It was alarming how quickly all of Peter’s willpower disintegrated with one glance too long into Johnny Storm’s beseeching gaze. When he cast those eyes of sea salt and brine across his soluble, spidery heart, the Human Torch could convince him of just about anything—and he knew it, too. Yet another power Johnny had no qualms exacting against him at a whim, made ever stronger by their growing affections for each other.

Peter thumped his head against the back of the sofa with a defeated sigh. “You’re so pretty, it’s actually stupid.”

“I know,” Johnny replied shamelessly, pinching his arm tighter. “Is that a yes?”

“What about your bubble bath?”

“It’ll still be there when I’m done pampering you. If it goes cold, I’ll just heat it up again.”  

Spider-Man paused, sifting through his brain for more excuses, then lifted his hand and carded three hesitant fingers through Johnny’s rose gold locks, making the seraphic celebrity blush. “Can I pet your hair after? I’ve always wanted to run my hands through your hair. It just looks so soft.”

Johnny was practically glowing with glee. “If you let me give you a massage, you can do whatever the hell you want to me.”

“Ooh. Like dying your hair purple? I was just imagining how much hotter you’d look with a bright magenta balayage.”

The Human Torch scrunched up his nose. “No, I meant—ugh. Never mind. Hair petting sounds great. Let’s stick with that.” He hopped off the couch and took Peter’s hands in his. “Now lay down on your tummy. I’m about to change your life.”

Tentatively, Peter sprawled flat across the cushions with his arms folded underneath his head, feeling a little out of his element. “If you try anything, I’m gonna kick you into the ceiling,” he grumbled. 

“I would never,” Johnny insisted, draping a hand over his heart. “I gave you my word, didn’t I?” The celebrity rubbed his palms together eagerly and loomed over Spider-Man’s prostrate form. “Have you ever had a hot stone massage before?”

“No. I’ve never had any massage before.”

“Well, this will feel kinda like that but without the stones. One of the many advantages of being able to control my body temperature.” He laid his hands on Peter’s shoulder blades, thumbs resting on the edges of the large spider symbol on his back. “It would probably feel better if you ditched the onesie, but since you’re a massage virgin, I’ll let you keep it on the first time.”

Peter snorted, twitchy and restless. With slow, methodical movements. Johnny began kneading his fingers deep into the masked hero’s sore muscles, the warmth radiating from his hands melting the pain away like butter. Peter tensed beneath his touch at first, then gradually let his body go slack, although it felt impossible to settle completely. 

“Whoa,” Johnny exclaimed, gliding his palms up the entirety of his back. “You’re, like, really stiff, Webs. Your whole back feels like one big, angry knot.” He ground the heel of his palm into the spot where Peter’s neck met his right shoulder, making him wince a little. “Have you ever relaxed a day in your life?”

“Does playing Animal Crossing count as relaxing?” he asked with a halfhearted chuckle. “Probably not the way I do it. All I do all day is shake every tree and try to catch fish. I always press the reel button a second too soon! That damn coelacanth still evades me. It’s the last fish I need to complete my collection in the aquarium part of the museum. My friend is in charge of catching the bugs since collecting both is such a hassle.”

Johnny worked his hands into either side of Spidey’s lower back, which ached tremendously in the best way possible. “I don’t really know what nerd thing you’re yammering on about this time, but I agree: that does not sound conducive to relaxation.” He rubbed his muscles in long, smooth passes, changing positions and techniques and pressure levels without lifting his hands from his body. “Now shut up and stop being goddamn rigid. Let everything go heavy and sink into the couch.” 

“I can’t,” he giggled sheepishly. “I don’t know how.”

“Just relax. Loosen up. Take slow, deep breaths, and soften your muscles one by one.”

Peter considered arguing with him some more, but all his thoughts began to slip and dissipate the longer Johnny kneaded his back. The heat from his hands combined with the perfect alternation of movement and compression was turning his muscles to jelly and his mind into mashed potatoes. It was like he was a ball of lumpy clay that Johnny was rubbing free of imperfections and sculpting into a masterpiece of his own design. All of it felt heavenly on his stiff and aching body, especially around his neck and upper shoulders. The pain and soreness plaguing him evaporated into nothing beneath his superheated touch, along with every worry or care he’d ever had in his life. Before he knew it, his eyes had slipped shut, limbs limp, teeth unclenched, head full of bliss and incense as it lolled to one side. 

“There you go. Much better.” Johnny swept his hands from the middle of Spidey’s back all the way to the base of his skull, the cords of lean muscles rippling beneath his fingers springy and captivating to the touch. “Seeing that it’s been well over a minute now and you haven’t asked me to stop yet, I assume you’re enjoying this? It feels nice, right? Did I or did I not tell you that my back rubs are to die for?”

When Spider-Man didn’t answer, Johnny’s palms paused on top of his neck. “Spidey?” he said. He bent down and craned his neck to take a look at his face. The masked hero’s eye lenses had shuttered closed, and his cheek was smooshed carelessly against his forearm. His back rose and fell in slow, rhythmic waves underneath Johnny’s hands. Chest warming with endearment, the Human Torch smiled from ear to ear.

“Huh. Guess I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” Keeping one hand on his shoulder, Johnny eased onto the couch right beside his head, kneading and petting his snoozing form with softer strokes of his fingers. “Who needs Advil when you’ve got me?” he asked quietly, gazing upon the sleepy hero with all the affection in the universe. He sat that way for a while, watching him nap and rubbing his back as feathers of fondness tickled his insides. 

After a few minutes, Johnny sank back into the cushions with a sigh, pulling his phone out with his free hand. “Hey FRIDAY?” he called in a slightly hushed tone, not wanting to wake the slumbering vigilante. 

“Yes, Mr. Storm?” she answered, matching his volume.

“Would you mind sending me all the best clips of Spider-Man from our team-building exercise today? I have a fun little edit I’ve been meaning to put together, but haven’t had any good footage to use until now.”

The A.I.’s voice brightened with mischievous interest. “Certainly. It would be my pleasure.”

“You’re the best.”

_______________________________

Susan’s breath fogged away from her mouth in ghostly clouds as she leaned against the cold metal of a shipping container, watching the lights of boats bob across the dark waters of the channel before her. She rolled her shoulders, still sore from her and Clint Barton's battle against Natasha Romanoff and Janet Van Dyne. Those women really knew how to punch. She and Clint did manage to save the civilian, but not without taking at least four roundhouse kicks and five other heavy blows between them, not including all the cuts and burns they'd sustained from those combat daggers and electrified batons the Black Widow was so privy to. Trucks and other transport vehicles dotted the runway between her and the bay, blocking out the city skyline like massive metal beasts in hibernation, waiting patiently to be brought back to life. 

By this hour, most of the port’s workers had gone home for the night. She’d watched them stomp out their cigarettes and lumber back to their cars, veiled from sight with her invisibility powers. But there was one person who stayed behind. One who had claimed to have a special overtime agreement with the boss that no one else did. The one now creeping around the shipping yard with nothing but their phone to light their path. The one Sue had been waiting for.

The Invisible Woman stood motionless as the worker passed in front of her, entering the graveyard of shipping containers on high alert. She waited a few seconds before silently tailing her, matching her footsteps to the woman’s to mask any sounds that might give her away. The shipyard worker led her through the sea of metal containers for about four minutes, glancing feverishly between the boxes and over her shoulder, until finally stopping in front of a bright green one with a black “X” painted in the bottom right corner. Drenched in sweat, the woman unlatched the lock and threw the door open. Kernels of what looked like animal feed spilled out of the opening at her feet. The entire container was filled with it; it looked at least a foot deep.

What is this? Sue thought, watching the woman wade into the kernels and start digging around. About thirty seconds passed before she pulled something solid out of the oats and seeds. When Susan realized what it was, her heart sank.

Shit.

With trembling hands, the woman placed the large bag of indiscriminate but obviously illegal drugs on top of the mound of feed and held her phone out, snapping a photo of it. Her thumbs flew across the screen as she searched for a contact to text the picture to. Her shivering finger hovered over the “send” button. 

“Don’t.”

The women froze. An instant later, she whipped around with a gasp, head snapping from side to side. Sue dropped her disguise, making her gasp a second time as she staggered backwards, banging against the container. 

“Who—who are you?” she choked out raggedly, eyes bleak with terror. 

“My name is Susan Storm,” she answered calmly, taking a cautious step towards her. “I’m with the Fantastic Four. You’re Willow Casavana, correct?”

A flicker of recognition crossed the woman’s expression, but the fear remained intact. “W-what do you want?” she stuttered, hand drifting towards her tote bag. “Why are you here?”

“I want to help you,” Dr. Storm explained. “I spoke with your boss.”

“My boss?” she sputtered, panic gripping her voice. “What did you tell her?”

“She’s an old friend of mine. She told me that some of her employees have been acting strange lately. Requesting odd hours, logging shipments and deliveries incorrectly, lying about things they never have before despite being good and honest people. She’s worked with you and many others on this dock for decades now and considers you as close as family. She knows something isn’t right.”

Tears glistened in the woman’s bloodshot eyes. Her legs wobbled beneath her.

“She knows you and a few more of her workers have been moving illegal materials through her shipyard,” Susan continued, eyeing the hefty bag of drugs perched on top of the animal feed. “But she hasn’t gone to the authorities about it yet because she knows this isn’t who you are. You wouldn’t do this unless you were in an incredibly desperate situation, or being forced to against your will.”

The woman shook her head slowly back and forth. “You don’t understand,” she croaked breathlessly. “You shouldn’t have talked to her. You shouldn’t have followed me.”

Sue held out her hands, palms upright. “Someone is making you do this. I can help you if you tell me who it is.”

The cellphone shuddered in Willow’s clammy grip. “It’s too late,” she said, pale cheeks wet with tears. “He’ll find out. He always finds out.” She wilted listlessly against the metal door, eyes hollow with despair. “He’s going to kill my brother.”

“Who’s going to kill your brother?” Susan pressed her. When she didn’t respond, Susan laid a hand against her chest. “I’m a superhero. I have connections. We’ll protect your brother. We’ll protect you and anyone else he’s threatening and extorting to do his dirty work. I promise we can get you out of this if you tell us who’s making you do this.” 

The cold wind whipped at the woman’s long braids, snagging strands from the neatly woven plaits. “He’s just a kid,” she wept into the icy breeze. “He doesn’t deserve this. He worked so hard to get into that school. He’s studying to be a speech pathologist.” She clutched her throat like some invisible force was suffocating her, eyes distant and glassy. “They sent me pictures of him on his campus. Walking to class, playing soccer with his friends, doing homework. They said they’d kill him if I didn’t do what they said, or if I told anyone what they were asking of me. They said they'd torture him to death and make it look like an accident.”

Susan’s jaw tightened. Just like Spider-Man said. Holding the lives of people’s loved ones hostage to get them to carry out his demands. So the little menace wasn’t lying after all. She took a step closer to the crying woman, rage and sympathy warring in her chest. 

“It’s Wilson Fisk, isn’t it?” she asked softly. The worker’s sobs caught in her throat. She raised her desolate gaze to hers, breaths rattling in her lungs.

“Who told you that?” she whispered. 

“I can get you and your brother away from him,” Susan assured her. “Do you know any other employees on this dock who he might be exploiting?”

“W-we’re not supposed to say his name,” she breathed. “Not ever. He's gonna think it was me who told you. You've…doomed us. You’ve doomed us all.”

Dr. Storm dropped her hands to her sides, startled and confused. Slowly, the woman’s horrified expression twisted into a vengeful glare. 

“This is all your fault,” she snarled. “This was my last assignment before he promised to cut me loose. I was done after this. I was free.” She smashed her phone into the pavement, an anguished, bestial wail tearing out of her. “Why did you have to get involved? You’ve ruined everything!”

“We can’t keep letting him do this to people. Even if he honored his word and left you and your brother alone, he’d just find someone else to terrorize and manipulate. We have to stop him from ever—”

The woman shoved her hand into her tote bag and pulled out a pistol, the weapon shuddering in her grip as she aimed it at Susan Storm’s face. A forcefield shot up between them on instinct, materializing in front of Sue’s outstretched palm. 

“Ms. Casavana,” Susan said tautly. “Drop the gun. Now.”

“You’ve killed us,” the woman bawled. “We’re all dead now because of you.”

“Willow, listen to me—”

“He’s all I have left. I can’t lose him, too.”

“You won’t. I’ll make sure you won’t. Just drop the gun.”

“You know you’ll be the next one he comes after,” Ms. Casavana drawled ominously. “You and everyone you care about. Not even people like you are safe.” She thumbed the safety of the pistol off, the sharp click tolling above the gusting winds. “Why couldn’t you just stay out of it?”

Cold talons closed around Susan’s heart. “Willow, please—”

“I’m so sorry, Jayden,” the woman rasped, raising her tear-streaked face to the starless sky. “Please tell him I’m so, so sorry.”

Susan blinked. And suddenly, the gun was no longer pointing at her. Suddenly, it was pressed against the side of Ms. Casavana’s head. Ice and terror shot through her bloodstream as she shattered the forcefield between herself and Willow, surging forward to stop her.

“No—don’t!”

BANG!

Time went still for a moment. The howl of the wind waltzed with the shrill ring echoing in Susan’s ears. She had panicked, and tried to form a forcefield inside the barrel of the gun. Tried to stop the bullet from exiting the weapon. Since the pistol was already against her head, she didn’t know how else to prevent her from taking her own life. It's not like she could fit one between the gun and her skull. But she had never made a forcefield that small and precise before. Certainly never so fast, or while under so much pressure. She was still new to these powers, after all. Still working to master the delicate intricacies of how to control them. Making a shield quick enough, tiny enough, and strong enough to stop a bullet that was flying through an object an inconclusive distance away from herself beneath the inky veil of night was dicey at best, bordering on impossible. Which is why when the splash of blood hit her in the face, the hands, the chest, Susan Storm was horrified, but not surprised.

She hadn’t been fast enough. She had failed. 

Sue heard Willow’s body slump against the ground, but she didn’t see it. All she saw were the dark stains spattered across her gloves and the red droplets dripping off her fingertips. All she could feel was the empty numbness between her ribs and the sickly warmth of bloody rivulets slipping down her forehead, her hair, her eyelids, her lips. 

She was gone. Just like that. A soul, a life, snuffed out in an instant. A woman was dead because of her. Her naivety, her ignorance, her impatience and lack of discipline. It was Susan's fault she was no longer alive.

Willow Casavana was dead. A sister with a sibling she’d do anything to keep safe. Even this. 

Sue turned her palm towards herself, body trembling, breaths shallow and threadbare. Her hand flickered in and out of visibility in parallel with her frenzied heartbeat. But unlike the rest of her, the splotches of blood didn’t disappear.

There were at least seven other people working on this dock whom her friend suspected of being blackmailed or threatened. Would they do the same thing as Willow if she approached them about this? Were there lives now in danger as well? The lives of their loved ones? How many others in this city did he have under his heel? How many innocents forced to do his bidding? How far and wide did this depravity extend? How had she been blind to it for so long?

The air around her drained of oxygen. She had mentioned Fisk's name to her friend. She had told her to keep quiet about it, but still. Could he find out what they'd discussed? What if he already knew? She had to warn her. She had to warn Reed and the others, too. If this woman was willing to kill herself rather than face Fisk's wrath, she could only imagine how gruesome their threats must've been towards her brother.

Her brother.

Susan's blood went cold. 

Johnny.

Was he in danger now too because of her?

No. They were too high profile. Fisk could get away with threatening people who were outside of the public eye. But not them; certainly not him. He was one of the biggest celebrities in the world. Not to mention, a superhero surrounded by powerful allies. No one would dare to target him.

Right?

Susan's thoughts and pulse were moving too fast. She had to call the police. A woman was dead. But didn't Spider-Man say the NYPD were also at Fisk's beck and call? Either way, she couldn't just not call the police. A woman was dead. Her hands and face were drenched in her blood. The warm, coppery tang of it coated her tongue, turning her stomach. Her lungs were lead in her chest. A woman was dead. She had to call 911. Where was her phone? Did she drop it somewhere? A woman was dead. She was dead, and it was her fault. 

Spider-Man was right, Sue realized with building horror, cupping her blood-soaked hand over her lips as she backed away from the motionless body, the crimson pool at her feet growing wider and darker and deeper. 

Wilson Fisk was a monster.

[goodvibes24hrs]

Headcanons I shared on twt that I’d like to share here ☺️ (from 2023 to now):

Margo’s a 3D digital artist, Miles is more traditional, & Hobie likes to tailor his own clothes. They have days where they all occupied a single room and work silently together with music/a movie in the background.

Broke: Jefferson doesn’t like Hobie cuz his laces/punk, Woke: Jefferson likes Hobie cause he reminds him of Aaron.

Jefferson knows what it’s like to live in a tough environment. Does he approve of the things Aaron & Hobie’s done? No. Does he understand it? Yes! And he’ll be damned if he lets Hobie handled it on his own now that he knows about him 😤

And if I said Rio AND Jeff ask about Hobie all the time to Miles?? And if I said they’d tell him to invite him to the rooftop cookouts hM?? And if I said Rio & Jeff were the type of parents to always including any form of family gatherings with Hobie in mind, HMM?!

If Aaron was still alive, he would have loved Hobie.

Manifests in your mind Karl throwing Hobie over his shoulders and spinning him around really fast as they laugh.

Hobie’s the type to hold up & play music from a boombox outside Miles window to serenade him at 3 am. Jefferson from his window telling him to go home, Hobie cranks the boombox louder.

CyberPunkFlower hc: Margo & Hobie both being nervous to meet Miles parents and get surprised when Rio & Jefferson hug them at the front door (Especially from Jefferson who held both of them tightly in his hug) Miles had talked so fondly about his partners to his parents. He even explained how they both helped him escape the SS. Rio & Jefferson loved them before they even walked through their door.

CyberPunkFlower thought: Margo & Hobie being overwhelmed with how opening loving & supporting Miles’ parents are to them. They’ve both had a one to one moment with Rio/Jefferson that solidified that feeling of “You’re always welcomed in our home”. Margo being quick to accept their affection/attention vs Hobie being standoffish cuz he’s not used to this kind of positive adult/parental presents. Over time & some patience he’ll be accepting/used to it.

My singing voice hc for Hobie is Bakar (listen to his song Dracula 🎤👀)

PunkFlower/Morales Family thought: Hobie, bruised/roughed up from a battle, hoppin’ in to Miles universes to relax with him only to realize: 1. He’s not home & 2. Rio’s the only one home. Cut to Rio hovering over to Hobie & being worried about his injuries. Rio tends to his wounds (even after Hobie explains his quick healing). As Rio’s wrapping him up she talks about how much her son speaks so fondly about Hobie. Tell him embarrassing stories about her boy. Fun little conversations that will come back and haunt Miles lol.

GoldenPunkFlowerByte thoughts: Pavitr trying to help Rio in the kitchen, Miles preventing Hobie from stealing bites out of the pots, Margo talking with Jefferson and playing with Billie.

Hobie’s spiderband are the type to give each other tattoos. They give each other a heart tattoo 💙🩷💜💚💛❤️

Hobie’s the type to bring flowers for Rio & Jefferson when he’s taking Miles out on a date.

GoldenPunkFlowerByte: Pavitr, despite his size, is always the big spoon (He will jump if he has to hold Miles & Hobie) My guy loves to bury his face in his partners shoulders. He loves playing with the loose strands of Margo’s hair while she’s coding.

I really like the idea of not only Miles’ family meeting Hobie but also the Morales meeting Hobie’s SpiderBand cuz that’s his family. He grew up homeless & his band means the world to him. Rio & Jefferson would love this goofy bunch of misfits.

Hobie making Rio a dimensional phone cuz she “wanted to call and check up on you & your friends, Flaquito!”

To end it off: Before anyone comes here and says “Hobie’s an adult” pleases read these =

Tho Hobie does not have a confirmed age, he's been described most times as a teenager from 16-17 year old (I see him as 16)

[spysbabygirl]

First Date

-This is my first fanfic in years I may make these later-

Scout 

Scout takes you to a chicken place-

He knows the best place for a bucket of fried chicken and the best deals.-

After eating, he sticks some straws in his nose and makes walrus noises to make you laugh.-

And to finish the date off he takes you out to get ice cream.-

Demoman 

Demoman would take you to a beer garden-

Everything is fun with beer being passed around and music blasting-

Till Demo and you get so drunk you, both get into fights and get banned from the beer garden.-

You both leave stumbling and singing your way back to the base.-

Heavy

Heavy takes you to a ballet show of Swanlake.-

He even got the box seats but it was later revealed only because those were the only seats he could fit in.-

Heavy wanted to show you that there's a softer side to him.-

When he watches you can see how invested and his appreciation for the art is. -

As you watch on you can feel a chill and then the warmth of a suit jacket being placed on you by heavy himself.-

Spy

Spy would take you to the fanciest place he can take you even if it means flying you both out of town.-

He would set up everything to be perfect even the red dress he picked out for you.-

After eating a steak dinner paired with red wine you both have a sweet slice of chocolate cake.-

Once the dinner is done and paid for you watch the night stars cuddled up together.

Engi

Engi would take you to the best BBQ in town as live music plays.-

You both had the best-pulled pork sandvich that's soaked in grease and BBQ sauce.-

As live music plays and bellies are full of food you go do some line dancing together.-

After some line dancing you start to have some cold beers.-

And to end the date he plays his guitar and serenades you back at the base.-

Soldier

Soldier takes you to the zoo.-

As you both are walking to see the animals he's quoting Sun Tzu but it didn't sound quite right.-

Once you get to the lions he starts telling one of his war stories.-

He finished one of his war stories and to prove it was all true he jumps over the railing and fights the lions.-

You take him back to the base so the medic can tend to his wounds as you tell him how strong and proud you are of him.-

Sniper

Sniper would pack a picnic.-

He packed what is assumed was Sandvitch's and what was once cold beers.-

You and Sniper sat down and decided against eating and just drank the lukewarm beers.-

It was the perfect spot the woods were glowing as the sun set came down.-

With a beer in hand, you cuddle up to Sniper and take a deep breath and you both relax for the first time.-

Pyro

Pyro takes you to the carnival.-

You both binge on sugary sweets and watch a ton of the small shows they hold.

Pyro wanted to go to the bumper cars they just don't know how aggressive they are being.-

You decide to take them to the horse carousel Pyro takes a horse with pink hair and colorful flowers as you take a f/c themed horse right next to them.-

Pyro wanted to win you a prize but he was sad when all he could win you was a mini plush balloonicorn key chain but once he saw how happy it made you his cheerful self was back.-

Medic

Medic takes you to an 1800s  medical museum.-

You both watch the first amputee surgery video ever recorded.-

He admired the old medical tools that were used saying things like "I could use somesinglike zis in my collecthion. "-

While slightly more educated and traumatized from the date he does buy you an atomically correct heart necklace from the gift shop.-

-Sorry for my bad writing for a German accent.-

[tartagliad]

Diluc as your boyfriend

Summary: What is like having Diluc as your boyfriend (headcannon)

Genre: Fluff

Warning: mentions of pain

Headcannon with music lyrics (the song will be put at the end of the section)

(A/N: this headcannon is actually dedicated to my friend who is in love with this man because today is her birthday.. this is just something came through my mind from me to her, gurl if you're reading this, I'm sorry if it's underwhelming.. and yeah.. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! UwU)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Music is from --> Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen

Adventuring with you

(I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things, We can do the tango just for two..)

Diluc always keep an eye on you when you both out on adventure

Sometimes he gets over protective, he's just scared when you're hurt

Always prepare everything before you two go out, like snacks, extra clothing, first aid kit and etc

When dealing enemies on the way, he always be prepared when you need backup

If it's an abyss mage or a lawachurl... well, he tries his best to protect you so you didn't die

But at the end, he will finish it off.. and after that he will tend your wounds

If you couldn't walk because of your injuries, he'll carry you back to Dawn Winery

Probably beat himself up mentally inside

Diluc won't let you go adventuring for a while before your wounds are healed

"I already ask the adventures guild to give you some time off. You need to heal properly in order to go out adventuring."

When your both are in public

(I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings, Be your Valentino just for you)

Diluc loves to ask you go on a walk with him in the city

He's not that touchy when he's in public

But once every now and then he'll hold your hand or hold your sides when your talking to another man especially Kaeya

Well, things like these rarely happen when you both are together, because everyone knows not to mess with Diluc

When you find something that you would like to buy, he'll buy it for you

This man literally loves spoiling you omg, he tries to make you happy alright :3

Diluc rarely brings you to the tavern, well.. DRUNKARDS

He just hates it when some drunkard tries to flirt or get your attention

But when you wanted to come, he'll make sure you'll sit not too far for him to look after

" Are you sure you wanna go to the tavern? I mean.. I would love to take you there, but aren't you bothered by the drunkards? If you really wanna go, be careful alright.. if someone disturbs you, just come to me.."

When he gets clingy

(Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy, What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?)

He's usually clingy when you gone for days or he's just tired from work

When you finished taking a shower and put on your clothes, he'll immediately pull you into his arms

You're not gonna escape from his arms until next morning tho..

When he isn't sleepy, he'll just let you talk about your day or anything while he puts his head on your neck so he can feel your warmth

Hearing your voice is really calms him down

Or you two just sat there until you both fell asleep

If you did manage to escape, he'll whine at you like a baby

Diluc will chase you around the room ngl, he's a giant baby when he's clingy :/

Or if he's too tired, he'll crossed his arms and make a pouty face at you :^

If you're going to the kitchen to make food, he'll be right behind you and hug you on the hips and put his chin on your shoulder

Overall when he's in this state, he really just wanted to hold you in his arms

"Hey where are you going? Let me hug you for a while.. please..? It's not that long.."

Places that he will take you on a date

(Set my alarm, turn on my charm, That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy)

Diluc usually follows you, where ever and whenever you want

But if he's the one who pick the place, he'll treat you on a fancy restaurant

It depends on his mood

When he wants to treat you like a real gentleman or feel like he wants to spoil you when there's a special occasion, he'll choose to go on a fancy restaurant

Just eating a delightful meal and have a conversation with you and some classical music in the background.. he felt really happy

But if he just wants to enjoys time with you alone, he'll bring you stargazing with him at Starsnatch Cliff or at Stormbearer Mountains

You both will watch the sea from above or lay on the grass watch the stars and talk with each other for HOURS

"Darling, do you wanna go out tonight? I don't really have work to do, so maybe we could go and spend some time together, your choice.. Where do you wanna go?"

Taking care of you when you're sick

(Ooh, let me feel your heartbeat (Grow faster, faster). Ooh, ooh, can you feel my love heat?)

Hear me out, Diluc will not leave your side if it's not necessary

He always feed you while your holding the bowl to warm up your hands

Diluc wouldn't let you leave your bed other than going to the bathroom

Diluc even forbids you to work even if it just reading some written commisions

He just wants you to relax and rest as much as you could get

When you feel really cold, he will hug you, not too tightly until you couldn't breathe

Seems because he holds a pyro vision, his body felt really warm

If you couldn't fall asleep or bored, he'll put on a movie for you or just talk with you about anything that came across his mind

He's really soft when you're sick especially when you didn't have enough energy to do anything

"Try to get some rest alright? You don't need to get out of bed if it's not necessary, and try not to think anything about work okay? If you need anything, I'll be right here"

(A/N: the reason why I use this song it's because it makes me think of Diluc for some reason and when I wrote this, I put the song on repeat :v, I hope you enjoy it.. have a great day)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you wanted to request, here are the rules that you need to read, ehe

[kitsunefire7]

For the Obiyuki bingo block—

🧜‍♀️Rusalka💧

The talented @fade-touched-obsidian wrote me a one-shot to help inspire me for this block TWT I love it so much. More to come soon 😉 ✨

ENJOY READING @fade-touched-obsidian story below the line 👀 ✨👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

Also part 2 > https://kitsunefire7.tumblr.com/post/656976456957739008/for-the-obiyuki-bingo-block

Blood.

Ugh. It’s everywhere.

The coppery taste fills his mouth from the rivulet that runs a trail from the deep cut above his eyebrow around his brow bone, down the side of his nose and beside the apple of his cheek before it finds a home where the corner of his lips meet. He'd wipe it away if he had the energy or if lifting his arm didn't cause overwhelming pain. At least it has stayed away from his eyes, keeping his vision clear. Well, as clear as it can be given the circumstances anyway.

It cools against his skin, sticking his clothes uncomfortably so his shredded remains of a shirt pulls on the skin slashed wide open on his chest adding further injury to an already insulting one. His clothes, soaked through long ago with his life as it drains out of him, drip and mark the path of his final mission.

He's almost there. He can make it.

His vision fogs over at the edges as the small mountain lake comes into view. The trees that protect the lake from the sight of passersby disappear into the mist of his mind, leaving no trace of their existence but for the faint birds that serenade the wilderness around them and the reflection on the glass-smooth water. A frog croaks from wherever it has hidden himself from sight. The wind blows soft as a kiss on the cheek but the water never ripples and he can’t help the sigh that escapes him.

He’s never known ‘home’ as a place; it has always been wherever one woman, one heart, was. He has nowhere to go. No one to say goodbye to. Not anymore. But he can succumb to his injuries where his home- her heart- was lost forever.

There's something poetic there, his carefully concealed romantic heart knows. He'd think about it more if he didn't need every remaining wit he has focusing on finding his way before he loses consciousness.

He's beginning to stumble as his outer limbs grow more and more sluggish but he managed to make it after all. He trudges on, needing to expend precious remaining energy to pick his way through the overgrown grass as his dexterity leaves him until he slips and falls gracelessly into the murky shallows.

The groan that escapes him as the water laps at him rattles and breathing is becoming harder. He can feel fluid in his lungs and there’s a burning in his chest that isn’t directly caused by the wound there, he can feel that pain hugging the new one as if they are long lost friends.

Ha. Fitting. Very fitting that that thought plops down at the forefront of his brain when he’s here where a long lost loved one left the world.

The water turns a grotesque reddish brown around him as the water rinses his clothes while more blood leaks from him with every miniscule movement. He must be running out if it has slowed this much. At least it’s almost done. Maybe, if he’s lucky enough his sins are forgiven, he will go to a place where he can see her again soon.

The fog of his vision grows darker as though night is setting in to take place of the midday sun above him. He's close. It's almost time. He breathes as deep as he can, sending pain lancing through everything and everywhere. It doesn’t feel like he’s gotten any air into his lungs at all, his attempt to suck in air dying painfully in vain.

Eyes as deep green as the leaves of the trees around him, porcelain skin smooth as bone, and unmistakable crimson hair rise out of the water. The nose and everything below are still submerged. Yet, despite the face appearing from the water, no water is on her face and her exposed hair is dry.

He's losing it, hallucinating. Which is a promising sign, really. He still can’t breathe but the pain of his body’s struggle to survive is subsiding.

That water is no deeper where she watches from a few feet away than where he sits. A human couldn't possibly be there without parts of their body being seen. His knees and the top half of his torso poking up out of the water are a testament to that.

And, yet, here she is. Unseen except for a haunting top-half of a face as she moves closer. Once she’s an arm length away, she emerges so her torso is out of the water. Her movements as fluid as the water swirling around her in the otherwise completely still lake. She reaches for him, hands cold as the death seeping into his extremities, closing around his shoulders.

The birds have stopped singing. The frogs are no longer croaking. Even the wind itself has left the area, leaving nothing but silence before she hisses and grips tighter, taloned hands sinking into his already damaged body but all he can see is her. He feels the pressure but no pain and through her hissing all he can hear is her melodic voice. A voice he hasn't heard in far too long when every minute of it’ absence felt like an eternity.

He reaches for her cheek, causing her face to twist into an unhold sneer of disdain, but his hand connects. It’s blurry but he can see that it has even though he can no longer feel his hand. The creature before him is so foreign but so much the same and he whispers a fractured, "Shi-ra-yu-ki?"

She blinks, angry snarl ripping from her before recognition filters in. The pressure of where her hands have dug in pulses before remembrance softens her grip and her facial features.

"O-Obi?" Her voice is shrill and has an ethereal echo to it. It sounds like it would be an agonized cry if she were a living human. He knows what he physically hears but there’s a disconnect somewhere in his sense and the only thing he processes is the voice he’s missed for so long. "What happened to you?"

Her heartbreak is palpable as she runs an icy finger he can no longer feel the chill of along the torn skin of his chest. He doesn’t feel that either

"I wanted to come home," he says, straining to whisper through the last of his breath and consciousness.

"I wanted to come home," he had said as his eyes fell closed.

Her heart no longer beats- hasn't in a long time. But she feels the moment his words hit their mark as true as any arrow he had ever shot.

He's no longer awake, never will be again, and from his mostly horizontal position, his mouth is filling with blood. He's on death's door.

He wanted to go home.

With a strangled cry of her own, she drags him into the center of the lake, and then pulls him under.

Bring him home, she shall.

She carries him down, down to the silt and clay, taking great care as she lays him out beside where her own body came to rest those years ago. She no longer carries the burden of tears but inside her head, where her heart still feels, she dies all over again but this time it is so much more painful.

She moves and manipulates the lakebed into as close to a burial chamber as she can manage with a slow and steady tenderness she hasn’t used since she was human tending to her gardens.

Her last thought before she slipped away was of him. After her rebirth, she never imagined she’d see him again, never imagined she would mourn his loss as anything more than a vague concept after enough time had passed to assume he had probably died as an old man.

She has nothing to mark the spot. Nothing to use as a headstone. Though it doesn’t matter in the end. No one enters these waters anymore, not since she claimed the lake as hers after she drowned and began protecting the space from any threat. There were many men before him and there will be many more after, no doubt, since now she has the tomb of her beloved to guard.

She runs her hand along the top of the raised hill. She points a finger and rolls a beautiful script across the mound before she collapses across his name, holding tight to the body that remains of the man she loved. There she stays for countless hours, days. She doesn’t know and it doesn’t matter. She has nowhere more important to be for now than right here with him as he rests.

“Welcome home, Obi.”

[hlizr50]

You Belong with Me

Azriel and his brothers are high-power executives, and while the Valkyrie ladies always attend the fancy dinners and events, Gwyn is NOT wealthy and is the only one who isn't attached to someone who is. When Gwyn volunteers to take Azriel to the cabin early to prep for their big family/friends vacation, they have a conversation about how she might have to cut back. Add in banter and hours of Gwyn unabashedly belting Taylor Swift, and Az realizes that not having her around is just not an option.

Guys... I've never cared for AU, never been big into song lyrics. But my soul just needed this to be a thing. So here it is.

Read on AO3

“You sure this thing is gonna get us there?” Azriel’s smug grin only earned an eyeroll from the redhead on the other side of the car, opening the driver’s side door.

“Just put your shit in the trunk and get in the car,” she huffed across the weathered blue of the roof. He chuckled, slinging his suitcase into the trunk as the door slammed – maybe with a little extra force. He loved poking at her, and he knew she would dish it right back. After closing the trunk he returned to the open door on the passenger’s side and lowered himself into the well-worn leather seat. “You know not all of us are fortunate enough to be high-level executives at multi-million dollar companies. But rest assured that this historical document restoration expert and her 16-year-old Toyota with 154000 miles are going to get you to the cabin safe and sound. Because you insisted on getting there a day early to make sure everything is secure.” Gwyn deepened her voice, giving him her best Azriel impersonation. And maybe he was being a bit… overzealous. But he had always been the most keenly aware, the most protective. He may have been CFO, but he was also deeply involved in security – both from the standpoint of the organization and of it’s employees. And his family.

He simply smirked, “If you say so.”

“You’re insufferable,” she groaned, turning the key. The car rumbled to life, and Azriel had to admit that he was impressed with how quiet it still seemed to run. He was sure Gwyn was a stickler about maintenance. “Just for that, you are sentenced to three hours of me serenading you with the best songs Taylor Swift has to offer.”

“Oh, Gods, anything but Taylor Swift.” Azriel grimaced, hiding the secret joy he rarely let her see. He loved it when she sang. Her voice was lovely, of course, but what hit him harder was how she seemed to radiate joy when she did it.

Gwyneth Berdara wasn’t quiet and shy like he tended to be – not by a long shot. She was irreverent and blunt and bold. But he could see the shadows that hid just behind the shimmer in her eyes – he could tell there were demons there. Her sister had been murdered four years before, in the apartment they both had shared, and it had wounded her deeply. Nesta had mentioned that there was more to the story, but that it was only Gwyn’s to tell. So, yes, she definitely had darkness that followed her, but she kept it well hidden. He’d learned, as they had become friends, that she often grew anxious in large crowds or chaotic environments. She didn’t feel safe, and that had always bothered him. Regardless of how many people were around or how crazy it was, her friends were there with her. He was there. Whatever it was that kept her so on edge, he imagined that the lingering sadness in that deep ocean gaze and the faraway wistful look that sometimes passed over her features were a part of it.

But when she sang she was a beacon of light, with the brightest smile and rosy, freckle-flecked cheeks.

“Don’t you dare disrespect the goddess T. Swift,” she glowered, and as they pulled onto the highway he lost himself in the lilting notes of her car concert.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been driving – at least seven works of the goddess T. Swift – when he reached for the volume knob on the console and turned it down.

“Are you coming to the charity gala in a couple weeks?” Azriel looked over at her, noting the light stain of pink gracing her cheeks. She kept her eyes on the road.

“Oh… No.” Gwyn glanced over at him and gave a tight smile, causing him to purse his lips.

“Why not?”

“Az,” she chided, throwing him a stern look. “It’s too expensive. I can’t afford a seat and a dress. Hell, I probably can’t even afford one or the other.” He stayed silent, mulling over the understanding that money wasn’t something he ever had to worry about, and how he could make that not a problem for her. “Besides, you know how I am with crowds like that. I’d probably just have an attack and ruin everyone’s night.” She tried to laugh it off, and that troubled Azriel even more. Because she had seemed disappointed just then when she said she wasn’t going.

“Do you want to go, Gwyn?” He prodded. I want you to go. She sighed, adjusting herself in her seat to straighten her back.

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, it’s really not possible for me.” She shrugged, as if that was it.

But that wasn’t it. Everyone was going to be there. She should be there, too. She should be there, with him.

“You know we would help –“

“I know, Az. But I’m not asking you, or Rhys. I’m not asking anyone. I can’t keep depending on everyone else just to go to events and dinners and whatever else.” She sucked in a breath. “I just… I don’t live the same life that the rest of you do. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just how it is.”

“Gwyn, you know nobody cares about that.” Azriel frowned. “I understand that my family is… fortunate. Privileged. But you and Nesta and Emerie are a part of us.”

“It’s not the same, Azriel.” Azriel. The full name. This was more serious than he realized. “Nesta is with Cassian and Emerie is with Mor. It makes sense that maybe they’re taken care of. I’m just… a friend. A friend who is poor.” He opened his mouth to argue but she beat him to it. “And it’s not just about covering food… you go to places with dress codes and too many forks for dinner, and with the company’s increasing success the three of you are only growing more popular and more press-worthy. Especially you.”

“Me?” Azriel swallowed, brows furrowed. “Why especially me?”

Gwyn cast him a pointed look, eyes dark and serious. “You’re the last single brother, Az. You are eligible bachelor number one. All the single ladies in the metropolitan area, if not further out, will be pining for you. If they’re not already.”

Eligible bachelor number one. He rolled his eyes. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Oh Az. Sweet, precious, innocent Az. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous. You’re wealthy, successful, and absolutely beautiful.” Azriel raised a brow and gave her a sideways glance, but she was so stubbornly keeping her eyes trained ahead. It was responsible, of course. She was driving. But not even a peek meant that she was intentionally avoiding looking over at him. The corners of his mouth turned downward, not quite understanding how this conversation had gone the way it had.

“Is that so? Please, tell me more,” he snickered. If there was anything that he knew, it was how to draw her back with teasing. She wouldn’t back down from a challenge, and Gwyneth Berdara was ruthless when it came to having the last word. The corner of her mouth twitched, and he knew she was doing her best not to smile.

“I hate you so much,” she huffed.

“Now, I don’t think that’s even remotely true.” He reached out to pinch the apple of her cheek, but she slapped his hand away, sending a glower that only made him laugh.

“The single ladies can have you. Maybe you’ll find someone else to annoy.”

“Aw, Gwynnie. You know nobody could ever replace you.” And even though it was in jest, it was also… true. “And what would you do without me?”

“Get some peace and quiet for once?” And when the redhead turned with that scrunched freckled nose and her tongue stuck out at him Azriel was relieved to have the playful girl – his best friend – wearing a smile again. “Now shut it or sing along, you have not been punished with nearly enough of our lady Taylor Swift.”

And so the ride continued, but Azriel chewed on his lower lip, contemplating everything Gwyn had said. She was fiercely independent, so he could understand how she might not want to accept what she might perceive as charity, or worse, pity. But the idea of her just not being there… it made something inside of him feel hollow. He reached out and turned down the volume again.

“Why wouldn’t you say anything? About where we’re going to dinner? Or about not being comfortable at big events?” He didn’t even try to hide that he was staring at her, trying to pinpoint any reaction she may have. Once again pink stained her cheeks.

“Az, it’s not like you guys are going to stop going to fancy restaurants so you can come to Wendy’s with me. I don’t want to take away from anyone’s fun.” Fucking ridiculous.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe we would have less fun without you there?” Azriel tried to keep his tone light, but his temper was flaring. He wasn’t sure why, but it bothered him that she would think she could just… not be there and they would all just go on like it didn’t matter.

“Of course I did,” Gwyn shrugged nonchalantly and threw him a wink. “I know it will be hard but I’m sure you’ll manage somehow. Besides, I don’t plan on just disappearing. I just… need to be more thoughtful about what I’m doing. I’ll just be around… less.” She turned the volume back up and jumped straight into the lyrics, not giving him the opportunity to tell her how preposterous she sounded.

Azriel leaned back in his seat, losing himself in thought with Gwyn’s lovely voice still soothing him in the background. He didn’t know how long he’d been brooding when the volume increased dramatically, blaring through the interior. Looking over he found her tapping on the steering wheel and swaying to the beat of her majesty Taylor Swift. Her eyes were shining, her smile was brilliant, and she sang like she didn’t have a care in the world.

You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset

She’s going off about something that you said

‘Cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do

I’m in my room, it’s a typical Tuesday night

I’m listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like

And she’ll never know your story like I do

But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

You belong with me

Walkin’ the streets with you and your worn-out jeans

I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be

Laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself

Hey, isn’t this easy?

And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town

I haven’t seen it in awhile since she brought you down

You say you’re fine, I know you better than that

Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

She wears high heels, I wear sneakers

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time how could you not know, baby?

You belong with me

You belong with me

Azriel felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was seeing Gwyn for the first time. Unbridled joy, laughter when she turned to him when she was singing, dancing in the driver’s seat like a passenger’s worst nightmare.

And he couldn’t help but listen to the words, too. Surely that part was coincidence, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was speaking to him… something was speaking to him.

He grinned as she shimmied her shoulders and rocked her head from side to side, wisps of copper flying away from her ponytail.

Oh, I remember you drivin’ to my house in the middle of the night

I’m the one who makes you laugh even though you’re ‘bout to cry

I know your favorite songs and you tell me ‘bout your dreams

Think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me

Can’t you see that I’m the one that understands you

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time, how could you not know baby?

You belong with me

You belong with me

You belong with me

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me

You belong with me

“Gosh I think I went too hard on that one. I’m out of breath!” she laughed, and she glanced toward Azriel in the passenger seat. “Have you had enough yet, Az?”

“Never,” he murmured, and her breath caught. She turned her focus back to the road, but kept stealing looks back at him. She seemed unsure of how to respond, but he was also lost in his own head.

He didn’t want to be the eligible bachelor. He didn’t want to annoy anyone else. He knew that he had cared for Gwyn as more than a friend for a long time – Nesta and Cassian had always encouraged him to do something about it. Nesta in particular had assured him that Gwyn felt the same way. But no matter how much Azriel had flirted she never seemed to acknowledge it, never seemed inclined to do something about it. They bantered and challenged and laughed, but never more.

But Nesta continued to be insistent. She told Azriel that there were some things about Gwyn that might keep her from acting upon her affection for him, and maybe he should make the first move. He never had, of course, for fear of rejection and fear of ruining the relationship that they had.

But now suddenly he was looking at a future where she wasn’t always there. He didn’t like the thought of that. He would go to Wendy’s for dinner instead of whatever black-tie restaurant had their reservation. But, furthermore, he would take care of her, like Cassian took care of Nesta. He wouldn’t go to events without her, and he would make sure that she was comfortable and safe while she was there. Because he would keep her close. He would always keep her close.

By the time Gwyn was pulling the car onto the driveway leading to the cabin she was only singing quietly to herself and letting him sit in his own silent thought. And as soon as she parked and turned off the car he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Without a word he ripped off the seatbelt and burst out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He was already crossing across the front when Gwyn popped out.

“What the hell, Az? The car is 16 years old you can’t just slam doors like that –“

Azriel grabbed the back of her neck and crushed his lips to hers. Gods, they were perfect – warm and lush. She inhaled shakily against his mouth and he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. He swept his lips across hers once again before pulling away only slightly, resting his forehead against her own. They were both breathing hard, and her expression nearly sent him to his knees. Gwyn’s teal eyes were wide, shining with surprise and confusion. Her lips were swollen and her freckled cheeks stained crimson. Azriel wasn’t going to give himself enough time to question this, though.

“You’re coming to the gala,” he insisted, gaze flitting wildly between her lips and her eyes before drowning in the ocean pools. “I’m buying your ticket. On our way home after this weekend we’ll go shopping for a dress. And no matter what you wear you will be the most exquisite thing there.”

Gwyn looked up at him, chest still heaving and eyes still wide, and nodded.

“And you’re coming to every dinner and event and anything else after that. Because, no matter what you might think, I don’t want to be there if you’re not there.”

“Az –“

“And when you’re there, you won’t think about money or crowds. Because I’ll be there. I’m going to take care of you and make sure you’re safe. Because I don’t just want you to be there with all of us. I want you to be there with me. Okay, Gwyn?” His eyes bore into hers, willing her to understand, to see what was in his heart.

“Okay,” she nodded. Her breaths had quieted, her eyes were warm, and there was a ghost of a smile there. And Azriel dared to hope that Nesta had been right, and all he’d needed was to take the leap.

“Can I kiss you again, Gwyn?” he asked.

“Please,” she giggled at him, smile widening. He leaned in, this time with much more restraint and care, slanting his lips over her soft ones and gently moving against them. When he pulled away his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin, which grew impossibly bigger when he saw her blushing.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he laughed, still not believing that he had done all that, and that it had… worked?

“I… I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time.” Gwyn sighed and then dragged her bottom lip between her teeth. “So… so just to be clear. You want me… to be…?” Azriel chuckled and ran his hands down her arms and then tangling their fingers together.

“I want to date you. I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to aggravate any other single ladies. I don’t want to be an eligible bachelor. I just want you. We can go to fancy dinners or charity events or the finest fast food restaurants in the metropolitan area.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and then kissed her cheek. “Will you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Of course, Az.” He bent his head and kissed her again. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was like he was making up for lost time.

“As her holy highness Taylor Swift said, you belong with me,” Azriel grinned devilishly. “I can’t help but be suspicious that you planned that… planned to make me fall for your beautiful voice and how adorable you are.” Gwyn tilted her head back and laughed, nearly a cackle full of amusement and contentment.

“I did not plan it, but I’m not going to complain about how it turned out.”

[b0rista]

— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: sLight angst, just a lil bit. & language!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: this is bertholdt x fem! reader.

"love me tender, love me sweet; never let me go."

he is,, so sweet.

quite closed off at first, as one would imagine— nevertheless, though, he's incredibly gentle to you, and just an all around sweetheart. bertholdt's known for his kinder tendencies, but with you, it's an entirely different playing field.

you would sit with both him and reiner during mealtimes, which typically goes either one of two ways: it's quiet, and mainly just simple conversation between the three of you. or, reiner gets pulled into some shitty shenanigan (usually enforced by connie or sasha), ultimately dragging you and your poor boyfriend with him.

^ one time, the three of you + connie and jean were challenged to steal a single pound of bread from commander shadis' quarters, without getting caught. you were nearly caught lmao, bertholdt had to enact his long limbs™ to reach out and yAnk you back into the shadows. it was romantic <3

when it isn't nighttime, cuddles with him are a motherfucking godsend. the two of you alternate between little spoon & big spoon, because both of y'all need that sort of comfort. he cherishes the moments where he can pull you into his chest, burying his face within your hair while the two of you serenade in the silence.

when it is nighttime, though, and the two of you are fast asleep, it's literal hell JDJFK. everyone knows about bert's heinous sleeping habits, and with yoU in the mixture?? lord, he's kicked you off the bed before.

he felt AWFUL

"oHhmygoDy/NareyouokAywhaThapPened-"

you end up developing a system, where you just fucking latch onto his back while the two of you sleep, locking him in place while also comfortably cuddling. sometimes you drool on his back lmao, but he doesn't mind.

matching PAJAMAAAAAS

yes, it was his idea. don't make fun of him, he's trying his bEST-

during expeditions, he quietly frets over you. while everyone is prepping for going outside the walls, he stares at you from a distance, trying his best to remain positive. reiner typically has to snap him out of it, placing a hand on his shoulder and telling him to focus.

he, however, does not focus!! the entire time, he's using his goddamn height to his advantage to glance above the crowd, making sure you're doing okay. he doesn't want to openly worry for you, though, because he doesn't want you to feel belittled. he's aware that you're strong, and he's aware that you're capable. still, you're his. he worries.

he'll drop his horse on its ass in order to save you from a dickless ogre, i'll tell y'all that much.

while reiner has grown a liking towards you, annie couldn't care less for your well-being. not at first, anyway. she really, really doesn't like you, or the threat you oppose towards their mission. of course, you don't even know about said mission, but nevertheless, bertholdt is better off without you. to her, you're nothing but a casualty.

^ this doesn't mean she can't GROW to like you, of course. for a long time, though she rlly doesn't like you

catching feelings for you wasn't easy at all for bert,, like at all. he constantly attacked himself for growing attached to you, and as his feelings intensified, so did his self hate. it felt as if he was betraying his homeland and the love of his life at the exact same time— everything contradicted against one another, leading to one hell of struggle. poor bby didn't know what he wanted more, to go home or be with you :,))

eventually (i'll let the reader imagine how), he gave in, and the time the two of you spend together is great 🥺

back to actual headcanons JDJF;&&(& bertholdt is OBSESSED with your hands. touching them, kissing them, holding them, etc. the gestures are always quiet, like placing his hand ontop of yours beneath the table, but they're sweet. he loves your hands, ty. in a modern world, he would paint your nails for you and do a DARN GOOD JOB 😭

if he catches you wearing one of his shirts, he'll melt right into the floor. he's a lanky fellow, so the shirt itself would definitely be somewhat loose on you, which he loves. one morning, you were in a rush to get out of the boy's barracks, and you accidentally grabbed his shirt instead of your own. during breakfast, he walked into the mell hall only to see you, iN his bigass shirt, the ends aggressively tucked into your pants so that it wouldn't sag.

he was like :0

nobody even realized that the two of you were an item until, like,, moNths into your relationship. he's keen on keeping things on the down low, he's introverted & constantly struggling xoxo. they found out through ymir, who caught him pecking you on the cheek before curfew. needless to say, she exposed you to the entire girl's bunker that same night.

one time before he asked you out you made a lesbian joke and he took it literally JDJJF

oh, she isn't even into men.

then like a week later he overheard you calling some random salesman in the city attractive and he was so fucking confused

whTsttegoiNgoN

eventually, reiner got sick of it and literally just asked you flat out: "so, what's your ballgame?"

bertholdt had eighteen back to back panic attacks in the corner KDKGKKOH

when it comes to your hobbies, he's got each and every one memorized. through silent pining for you from a distance, he's picked up on the little things. you're an artist? wow, he's obsessed. you're a poet? please, serenade him to sleep with your wishful thinking. you won't even have to tell him, by the time you're together, he just knows.

if you're short, he's,, protective. he's protective either way, but if you're on the smaller scale, he feels this undying need to just encAse you in his arms, protecting you from the outside world. he also wouldn't know how to act a majority of the time KDJKF he's literally a beanstalk of a man, how the fuck does he operate with you??

^ enjoy him having to lean down a considerable amount to kiss you on the forehead jjdhfh

the same goes for if you're of average height!! not too drastic of a difference.

if you're tall, you're a queen. he's humored whenever he sees you towering over the others, and he lOves the fact that he's one of the only ones that towers over you. it's actually really cute, seeing him smile like a cutie as he rests his cheek on the side of your head while the short bitches are biTteR

he's a tad bit obsessive when it comes to treating whatever wounds you may have, because he worries more intensely than most. you get a measly papercut, he's the only wrapping up your finger .7 seconds after you started bleeding. he does this thing once it's tended to where he places a tiny kiss atop the bandages, it's really sweet.

10/10 boyfriend, minus the angst that i refused to include 💞 smd smd SMD SMD

[garrothromeave]

mcd garroth + laurance headcanons for the sake of me posting something while working on my long-ass post, also happy birthday blaze ily, 

garroth - total momma’s boy. seems obvious, but it’s true -- back in o’khasis, he was practically glued to the side of zianna. whenever she had to leave for a few days when he was younger, he’d cry if he couldn’t go with her. when he left for the guard academy, he wrote to zianna on a daily basis. to put it simply, he had separation anxiety. the hardest thing about faking his death was not being able to see or talk to his mother. - incredible piano player. his father made him take lessons when he was younger for quite a few years, but he was naturally very good at it. he never mentions this skill to anyone. while they were at malachi’s castle and were looking for materials before they left, garroth stumbled upon an old piano and played something. he got really into it, and laurance ended up stumbling on him playing. he made laurance swear to never tell anyone about it. - when garroth was around eight or nine, his stutter was so bad that garte didn’t let him speak in public or around any people other than the family out of shame. vylad and zianna used to help garroth with his stutter.

- garroth is very sensitive to the saying “oh my irene.” growing up in the ro’meave house, it was taboo to use irene’s name in vein. or anywhere in o’khasis, really. nowadays he’s still very caustious whenever he says it, because he thinks that someone is going to yell at him. - horrified of getting hurt. back during the days of training in the guard academy, while he was very good with technique and fighting itself, he had a very bad flinching problem. overall, for the longest time, wounds and pain made garroth very uncomfortable. because of this fear of getting hurt, he has a bit of a stubble because of the one time he hurt himself while shaving.   - 6′4, because 6′11 is unbelievably tall and i honestly don’t even think that it’s canon? s’yeah. he seems 6′4 to me.

- garroth often sees new things and (internally) has this very child-like wonder response. he was sheltered for the entirety of his childhood and teenagehood. and after the guard academy, he stayed put in the same village for 5 years -- so he hasn’t experienced very much. he often wants to ask dozens of questions, but because of his shyness, he tends to just observe anything new very closely. which leads me to my next headcanon,

- because of o’khasis’ intolerance to many things, he was not very commonly exposed to magick’s users. the first magicks user that he directly met would be zoey, and he was very nervous when talking to her the first time he met her. when garroth gets to know her more, she catches on that he’s curious about a lot of things, and offers to tell him about things. he declines, and he regrets that decision to this day.

- as stated before, o’khasis isn’t very tolerable of things, which caused garroth to develop incredibly bad internalized homophobia. when aphmau comes along, he gets a very strong desire to protect her (little do we know, this strong desire comes from his connection with esmund) and confuses it for/tries to convince himself that it’s romantic love. it is in fact love, just platonic. so basically, this man’s gay as hell.

- garroth has more freckles than any other ro’meave family member. he’s mildly insecure about his freckles, seeing them as a ‘childish’ trait, which is why he wasn’t very bothered with the idea of hiding his face with his helmet. 

- his hair is super curly. it used to be more tame, but as he got older, it got more curly. it’s usually a mess because he doesn’t know how to take care of it, but it somehow looks hot as hell. (no homo ofc.)

- garroth is allergic to blueberries. 

- raven was garroth’s first genuine connection since he left o’khasis. zenix was his second. he loves raven a lot, and hates that he can’t see him as often as he’d like to.

- garroth is a total cat person. don’t get me wrong, he loves dogs, but if he were to choose between having one or the other, he’d choose to have a cat. he had a pet cat when he was little that he still thinks about a lot. (probably named sprinkles, just for the hell of it.)

- because of how he grew up, garroth’s actually a very picky eater. while he’d never admit it to himself or anyone else, he misses the more “rich-people” food he was spoiled with. 

- garroth isn’t actually that stupid, when he first arrived at pheonix drop, he had a name in mind that he wanted to go by (to better hide his identity). however, when his name was asked by someone, he panicked and “garroth” accidently slipped. he beat himself up for the longest time after that. the only reason he finally let go is because no one had ever pointed out how/seemed suspicious he had the same name as the deceased first-born son of o’khasis.

laurance - his hair grows decently quick, so even after cadenza cut it for him, it only took about 4 months for it to grow back just past his shoulders. he prefers it having some length to it anyways, and usually ties is back into a ponytail. after the irene dimension, he would let nekoette braid his hair. - has a very lanky body type. naturally has long limbs, and would often get called a ‘stick’ when he was younger. he’s about 5′11. but don’t confuse his thinner stature for weakness, he matches garroth’s strength easily.

- bi icon. fuck that “you were my first kiss” bullshit he gives aphmau, the list exists and while it’s stupid and weird, according to it, garroth was his first kiss. which is fuckin funny as hell if you think about it.

- laurance is very good with animals. more so rodents and smaller creatures, like squirrels, birds, rabbits, etc. cadenza was convinced that laurance could talk to animals for the longest time. he even had this little mouse that would pop in his house. however, on the contrary, larger animals -- not so much. he’s shit with horses and cows, especially. 

- incredible singer. has serenaded aphmau on multiple occasions, and has even gotten her to sing along with him from time to time. he sang for malachi to help him fall asleep every night since the day they met him. this caused him to start singing for levin at night as well. when laurance saw malachi again after the 15 year jump, within the first few days of his return, malachi asked for laurance to sing for him again just like he used to. which brings me to my next headacanon,

- laurance saw malachi as his own child, and treated him as such. they were very close, and malachi was the most heartbroken over laurance’s disappearance since he saw him very much as a father. it wasn’t that laurance favored malachi over levin that created this bond, it was the fact that laurance first-hand saw a child in need of a home and someone to love him, and it reminded him of when he was small. 

- he’s a sucker for bets. gambles, wages, anything like that. while he’s not directly a gambler, if someone offers he’s sure to accept. he’s a risk-taker, and ends up getting really into it. this also branches into his competitive behavior. he’ll be really upset and possibly a bit petty if he loses. why else do you think he still hadn’t given castor the 5 dollars he owes him?

- slingshot master. you give this motherfucker a slingshot he can kill someone with his impeccable aim. he’s also very good with a bow and arrow or any sort of projectile, but he’s the best with a slingshot. when he was younger, he hand-made slingshots from materials that he’d find around the forest.

- speaking of the forest, laurance is a very nature-loving soul. when he moved to meteli when he was adopted, he’d often go and explore the forests nearby. he and cadenza would use their imaginations and play all sorts of games. laurance and her especially loved to climb trees, and would jump from branch to branch. this helped laurance become very flexible. this is also how he met sasha, she was sitting in his favorite tree one day and they just hit it off from there.

- after he was rescued from the nether, laurance frequently had nightmares that would lead into sleep paralysis episodes. the first time it happened garroth had been looking over him (since this was around the time when laurance first got back and garroth had allowed aphmau to go do her lord tasks while he watched over him) and when he had the ability to move and speak again, he started freaking out. garroth had to calm him down and assure laurance that he’d talk to zoey about what happened. garroth and zoey are the only ones that know of laurance’s sleep paralysis, mainly because he didn’t want to worry aphmau or anyone else. zoey often gave him ways to cope with it. it didn’t happen every night, but it did occur at least 5-6 times a month. his sleep paralysis stopped the moment he entered the nether for the second time. 

- the first time laurance heard he’d made the list for the jury of nine, he felt honoured. when he was oblivious to how corrupt it was, he saw it as a huge opportunity. after learning about it’s true nature, he was still glad that he’d made the list -- because him being on the list prevented another person from risking being on the list and being chosen to be apart of the jury.

- yes, laurance can cook very will in this universe as well. it’s not that he was taught, it’s more that he can look at ingredients and just throw them together to make great combinations. zoey also taught him a few things.

- laurance does not know his real birthday. malachi does not remember his. since cadenza had “given” laurance a birthday, he offered to let malachi share his unofficial birthday with him. malachi accepted. 

garroth + laurance

- laurance began referring to garroth as “pretty boy” after seeing his face. he continued to call him that for the first month of their friendship. garroth hated it, and that’s the only reason laurance eventually stopped.

- laurance and garroth are both very good story tellers, but after one incident where garroth was telling levin and malachi a story, he started stumbling a bit over his words and couldn’t articulate correctly, so laurance picked it up and continued it. from there, they took turns with the story and occasionally interrupted one another to add a detail or plot point, and after that, malachi refused to listen to garroth or laurance separately when telling stories, because their collective minds came up with the most fascinating shit.

- garroth isn’t the best at coming up with insults because he’s simply too nice, but laurance loves to make fun of garroth (in good fun, of course). however, there is one thing that garroth could hold over laurance; and that was their height difference. whenever laurance would mess with him, garroth would just bring up height to piss laurance off. 

- when laurance regained his sight, him and garroth sparred very often. that’s when garroth realized how much strength laurance actually had, since he’d originally underestimated him. laurance, in all honesty, was equally surprised. their spars were pretty evenly matched.

- while these two are best friends, the amount of arguments they’ve had is insane. most of them were light-hearted and were more so disagreements, but sometimes things escalated and would result in yelling. that’s because laurance always took it a step too far. that, or garroth would try to disregard what they were talking about, which only made laurance more heated. but they’re both incredibly quick to forgive each other. once they had a really bad argument and didn’t talk for an entire hour afterwards, but once they saw each other again it was like they’d never fought. 

- since garroth grew up with everything and laurance often had to hunt and shit, garroth wasn’t amazing at it. laurance found out, originally teased garroth, but gave him tips and took him out and taught him how to hunt. garroth’s still shit at it when he does it alone, but when he does it with laurance he’s pretty decent. 

- garroth doesn’t drink. laurance does. laurance once tried to convince garroth to drink, but he refused -- which laurance respected, but garroth had to deal with drunk laurance for the rest of the night at the guard station. he learned things that he really wish he hadn’t that night. 

---

i had more for garroth and laurance’s relationship, but uh, i don’t really have time to write them down, so take these for now! i hope y’all enjoy them as much as i did writing them :]

[bluesylveon2]

How to Confess to a Guy

Summary: Levi and Hange have a crush on one another for years. It is now time for someone to step up and confess!

Disclaimer: Attack on Titan is a manga/anime series written by Hajime Isayama and published by Kondasha

© All rights reserved

A/N: @levihanweek Thank you for hosting the Levihan Eggschange event! I enjoyed participating in it.

To my giftee, I hope you find your gift and enjoy it. I hope the clues I gave you helped as well. Enjoy! :)

Camp Paradis is a 7-week, 400-acre summer camp for teenagers hidden deep in the woods of Washington state. Founded in the 1950s by the Fritz family, it is run by Dot Pixis, a man famous for his many achievements when he was a camper many years ago. It is known for offering a variety of activities for each camper. Some activities included fishing, sailing, swimming, paddle boarding, and more!

The camp had a small lake with 12 cabins surrounding it. Each cabin had three campers and one counselor. Each camp counselor was typically seniors and college students. Additionally, there was an even bigger lake, Lake Maria, where the camp's rival, Camp Marley, resided across. Camp Marley was also 7 weeks but had 500 acres, and it was by Theo Magath.

No two counselors in Camp Paradis are alike. Each counselor is unique. For example, Erwin Smith, the counselor for Ursus cabin, is greatly admired by his campers because of his dedication and leadership quality. He is the counselor who typically leads his cabin to victory every year at the Paradis games that occur at the last week of camp.

On the other hand, Levi Ackerman, the counselor for Vulpes cabin, was known as very strict with his campers. Other campers from other cabins note how it always smells like detergent, and his campers clean the cabin often.

(They are in the woods, for crying out loud! How did he manage to bring all of the cleaning supplies? This remained a mystery to everyone except in the Vulpes cabin.)

Just like any other teenage-related camp, the campers always spread rumors to relieve their boredom. Some of which have not been debunked.

Rumor 1: Bigfoot is hidden somewhere deep in the woods that has yet to be found. There were occasional sightings near the camp in the previous years. Dot Pixis himself almost caught him one day but failed. Anyone who can find and capture Bigfoot can earn a generous reward from Pixis. Eren and his friends actually tried to look for it but ran into his older half-brother, Zeke, instead (he kind of looked like one in the dark). He and his friends did not realize they walked all the way to Camp Marley.

Rumor 2: Someone went to Camp Marley to serenade Annie Leonhart when she was outside playing the piano. Annie refused to reveal who, yet she blushed every time someone from Camp Marley asked. Someone (*cough Ymir) had an idea who. Some campers claimed to see Ymir often tease Armin after the rumors started. It is possible the Armin did it.

Rumor 3: Levi Ackerman likes Hange Zoe from Strix cabin and vice versa. Actually, it seemed more like a fact than a rumor to everyone except them.

Let's look at the evidence:

Evidence 1: Levi always takes care of Hange when she forgets to take care of herself. It typically ranges from, but not limited to: making sure she eats, jumping into any time she is at risk for injury without a second thought, tending to her wounds when she does get hurt, forcing her to bathe (Connie accidentally walked into it once. He vowed to constantly check on Levi and Hange's whereabouts before he gets killed by Levi's death glare), and "accidentally" eliminating any suitors Hange may have.

(He does not actually kill them or anything. That is against camp rules. There was one time when Zeke Yeager went to Camp Paradis to confess his feelings to Hange. He actually almost made it to her cabin but a random shoe "accidentally" hit him on the head, causing him to stumble and fall into the lake. No one knows how he fell, but Hange walked out to see what was going on. She saw Levi drinking tea nearby, while mysteriously missing a shoe, and went to him. Apparently, she did not see Zeke at all, so Zeke had to get help from Pieck, who was hiding nearby)

Evidence 2: Hange rants to Levi about her latest research back home. Hange can talk anyone into sleeping with the amount of research she does. Yet, Levi stays up to listen. It could be because of his insomnia, but he never gets tired of listening to her rants. Other campers note that he at least looks interested every time Hange rants.

Evidence 3: The one incident last year when Hange was jealous and did not talk to Levi for half of the camp duration. There was a rumor going around that Levi was dating Petra, counselor of Lynx cabin. As a result, Hange hung out with Moblit, counselor of Lupus cabin, more that year instead. Hange claimed it was to give the couple space, but only her closest friends could tell something was up.

For instance, Eren was hiking on another expedition to find Bigfoot when he ran into Hange, kicking down a tree in anger. Eren immediately ran back to camp in hopes that Hange did not notice him and broke his bones. He was actually intimidated by her for a week.

(In reality, Hange was so sure Levi was going to confess to her that year. Additionally, Levi was jealous of how Hange spent time with Moblit more. Not everyone in camp could tell except for his campers Eren, Jean, and Connie. They could feel the chills running down their spines every time Levi was in the cabin with them, and it was summer.)

Evidence 4: Levi was always by Hange's side. Anyone in the camp can tell you that Levi is at least nearby Hange unless it is for very personal reasons (except bathing). He mainly stayed close to her after last year's incident when he literally kicked down her door and cleared the misunderstandings.

(In reality, Levi and Petra were not dating. Petra had confided to Levi about dating advice (for a reason he is unaware of, except everyone in the camp *cough Hange *cough). In the end, Levi remained single and had to fix the Strix cabin's door. On the bright side, Petra started dating Oluo Bozado from Meles cabin.)

Neither party had ever confessed to one another despite all the evidence proving that they have feelings for one another. Now that both Levi and Hange are about to graduate high school, it was the perfect time to confess before they go their separate ways because of their careers.

However, life is very unexpected, and when you add Hange to the mix…

Well, anything goes.

---

"This is it," Hange said to herself as she got everything ready in her canoe. She was prepared to sail across the lake towards Levi's cabin.

Both cabins were situated on different sides of the lake. The camp was designed so one half was for boys and the other half was for girls. It was a very dumb inconvenience for Hange.

Hange scoffed as she sat down on the canoe and began rowing. "Why couldn't our cabins be placed next to each other. It would give me less work to do." The only guy and girl cabins next to each other were Petra's cabin and Mike's cabin.

Hange decided that today was the day she will confess to Levi. They have been in an awkward "does he/she like me? does he/she not?" for years now, and none of them confessed at all. There are even rumors about it, for crying out loud!

The two had met three years ago when Hange and Levi were campers at Camp Paradis. It was really unexpected. Hange was ready to get down in the dirt during the activities and often kept some insects to study. On the other hand, Levi was a clean freak and a prodigy at the camp activities. It became sort of like a friendly competition between the two, and then they suddenly started hanging out more. They have known each other for years. She even calls herself his best friend.

(She never realized how recently Levi would scowl every time she claimed to be his best friend. To him, she was much more than that.)

Overall, Hange would look forward to seeing Levi again every summer.

It has been four years of dancing around whatever they have that Hange now dared herself to confess before the summer ends, and they leave for college. It is better to do something and get rejected (which she hopes does not happen) than do nothing.

Hange stopped rowing when she got close enough that Levi has to hear her. She could make out his figure sitting on the front steps of his cabin with Mike, Erwin, and Furlan.

She sets the oar to the side, takes a deep breath, and presses play on the small radio she took from Rico's cabin. The beginning notes of the song plays in the air.

You can do this

Hange began to sing the first line.

---

Minutes before

Mike, Erwin, and Furlan were talking about who knows what, not Levi was not paying attention anyway. His mind was preoccupied with a certain eccentric girl he knew.

She was very secretive lately. Sometimes she would freak out whenever Levi approached her, and he has not seen her all day. He even planned on confessing to her after dinner. It seemed as if Hange was preoccupied with something.

Levi would not even get to say one word before Hange ran off, claiming she is busy and cannot be disturbed.

Levi scowled at the thought. Hange would usually tell him beforehand if she is busy, but her saying nothing? Something is definitely up, but she wants to not tell him then it was fine by him (or so he says).

Furlan, who noticed Levi's brooding, smirked. "Hey Levi, are you thinking about Hange again?"

Mike and Erwin stopped talking and smirked as well.

Levi rolled his eyes. "I was not thinking about Hange. At all." He said in a serious tone.

"Mhmm," Furlan replied. He shifted in his spot and gave Levi a smug look. He was not convinced.

"Don't hide it, Levi," Mike added. "We all know how you go goo-goo eyes every time Hange enters the room. You are always checking up on her too."

"I don't make goo-goo eyes at Hange," Levi deadpanned with a monotone voice. "I only check up on her because it is a miracle she can see those dirty her glasses she wears."

Erwin's smirk never faded away as he lightly elbows Furlan on the side. "He always calls her by two nicknames, Furlan. He gives anyone more than one nickname too. They might not sound endearing, but he rarely calls Hange by her name."

"Can you imagine what Levi is thinking now?" Furlan laughed. He turned around from his spot, so he back faced Levi, hugged himself, and started making fake kissing noises.

"Oh, Hange! I don't want to be just friends with you. I will marry you, and we're going to have 100 bab-"

Levi slapped Furlan on the head. He stood up the moment Furlan spoke. Mike and Erwin were in the background howling with laughter.

"Cut the crap, Furlan," Levi said and made his way back to his spot on the steps.

"Ok, ok. You win, Levi." Furlan rubbed the back of his head where Levi had slapped him. Luckily for him, Levi did not hit him too hard, and it did not hurt that badly. He goes back to talking to Mike and Erwin about other counselors about other rumors they heard. He will tease Levi again later.

Meanwhile, Levi rolled his eyes at his friend's childishness and began to think about the subject of his earlier torment. It was already almost dinner time, and he has not seen Hange all day. He was hoping she would at least appear for dinner, or else he would have to drag her to the dining hall by force.

Levi was busy with his thoughts and staring at his feet to notice anything around him. He was too busy to focus on the music playing, and the girl he (does not) have a crush on making her way over from across the lake.

"Uhh, Levi?" Furlan spoke while looking at the lake. Levi ignored him; instead, he was too busy thinking about Hange to notice she was heading towards him at that very moment.

Mike and Erwin turned to face what Furlan was staring at. Their jaws dropped.

On Lake Sina was the one and only Hange Zoe making her way towards Levi's cabin on a canoe while singing the song "We Belong" by Pat Benatar so loud that everyone in the camp could hear her. She also wore shorts and a camp T-shirt. She did not wear a life jacket.

Talk about romantic.

"Levi!" Mike said urgently and shook his shoulder.

"What?" Levi turned to Mike. He was irritated by his friends messing with him about his crush (yes, he will admit it but not out loud to his nosy friends).

What else did they need now? They could always bother someone else.

Levi noticed where Mike was pointing to and was about to turn in said direction until he heard a voice coming from somewhere behind him.

"Well, it seems like you won't die a virgin after all, huh, shortass? Who knew?"

Levi knew that voice. His cousin, Mikasa, from Cervidae cabin, Levi had the pleasure (not) of watching over at this camp. It was a good thing he did not have to deal with her and her obvious crush on Eren Jaeger. He did feel bad for Rico because she had to deal with that gloomy brat in her cabin.

Levi turned around to face his cousin. She was standing a few feet away from him with a few of her friends that he recognized. The tall, brunette one with her hair in a ponytail, Sasha, also from Cervidae cabin, was eating a sandwich (she probably got it from the camp across the lake). She must have raided Camp Marley recently.

(They have a chef there who can apparently make really delicious food. Levi only knew because Hange planned on kidnapping him one time just to try some).

Mikasa's other friend, Historia, the short blonde-haired girl from Lynx cabin, smiled pleasantly at Levi.

"What are you talking about, brat?" he glared at Mikasa.

Historia giggled and pointed in the direction of the lake. "Over by the lake. Can't you hear Hange singing? I knew she could sing, but wow! I wonder if she is singing to a lucky guy? That would be so adorable!"

Levi's eyes widen in surprise. He tuned out Historia's gushing when it hit him.

That means…Hange...oh no.

He turned his head to find that Hange was indeed singing and making her way towards his direction.

His direction!

Erwin and Mike noticed the blush on Levi's face and smirked. Furlan clamped his hand on Levi's shoulder like a proud dad. Levi could hear the smirk in Furlan's voice that he would love to punch away if it weren't for Hange.

"I wonder who the guy is too, Historia. He is indeed a lucky guy."

Levi shook Furlan off and started heading towards Hange.

Hange noticed Levi coming closer and stops rowing. She dropped her oar off to the side.

"Hey! Levi!" She yelled out loud while waving her arms around.

She did not have to yell so loudly, though. The sound traveled perfectly from her mouth and into Levi's ear within seconds because of the lake.

He began speed walking towards Hange.

There was a voice in the background yelling something about how Hange was doing great so far. It sounded like Nifa, but Levi was too busy to check. He needed to get to Hange first.

Levi watched as Hange accidentally drops her oar into the lake when she moved back to row some more. Hange, scrambling to retrieve it, said an "I got it!" in her normal voice until she accidentally tripped and fell into the lake.

She was not wearing a life jacket on either.

Levi stopped speed walking and ran towards Hange. Once he was close to the lake, and without thinking, he took off his shirt and dove into the lake to save Hange.

---

Also a few minutes ago

"I know Hange is a smart girl and all, but wouldn't it have been easier to just walk around the lake to confess to Levi?" Nanaba asked aloud as she took a sip from her water bottle. Some sweat dripped down her brow from being out in the sun all day.

Nanaba sat on the steps of her cabin (Alces) while her campers was out and about. Her cabin was next to Hange's, and she even helped Hange prepare before her big love confession.

Rico, who walked by earlier to see why Nanaba was staring at the lake, sighed from Nanaba's right. "Love does weird things to you, Nanaba. Remember when Mike confessed to you last year? I wonder why do people from this camp confess while using the lakes, though?" She questioned while recalling that one rumor and how Mike confessed to Nanaba by bringing her to a picnic near Lake Maria.

Nanaba laughed and turned to Rico while wiggling her eyebrows. She grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "So when are you going to get a canoe across the lake and confess to Ian?" she said while gesturing to Hange, who was still singing to Levi.

Rico blushed and elbowed Nanaba's side. "Shut up! I do not like Ian like that! Mind your own business!" She turned away from Nanaba and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her face was still red.

Nanaba turned back to watch Hange sing and rests her chin on the palm of her hand. Her elbow was resting on her thigh. "Mhmm. Go tell yourself that."

"I think it's a cute idea. It would be very boring and tiresome to walk around the lake just to confess. Serenading on the lake is much more unique." Nifa, counselor of Tamias cabin, piped up from Nanaba's left. She had heard Hange's singing nearby and was curious about what was going on. She sat next to Nanaba. It seemed like Nanaba knew what was going on.

Ah. It seemed that Nifa also joined in on the watch party, Nanaba thought. Now a good chunk of the camp was curious about Hange's business.

The trio watched as Hange rowed closer to Levi. This time, some of the campers from the other cabins watched Hange from Levi's side. They did not stand close but a far distance instead. They were curious about what was going on and did not want to get too close to suffer from Levi's wrath.

They all watched as Levi stood up from his spot and began speed walking towards the lake. Meanwhile, Hange continued to sing her song.

Nifa brought her hands up to her face and cupped them around her mouth to amplify her voice.

"You're doing great, sweetie!"

Hange was doing great. Indeed, she was almost at her destination. All she had to do was pick up the oar and go back to rowing…

Until she accidentally dropped her oar, causing Levi to start running towards her.

They could not hear what Hange said, but they could assume she was trying to reassure Levi that she was ok and to retrieve the oar...until she misstepped and fell into the lake.

Oops.

Nanaba and Rico turned to Nifa with a shocked look. Nifa held her hands up in innocence.

"I swear. I did not mean or intend for all of that to happen."

"We have to help Hange!" Nanaba yelled. Both she and Rico stood up to try to help Hange but stopped by Nifa, grabbing the back of their shirts.

"What are you doing, Nifa?" Nanaba said with irritation. Nifa did not say anything but nodded her head towards the lake. She lets go of their shirts after they brought their attention to the lake too.

The girls watched as Levi took his shirt off and dove into the lake to save Hange.

Problem solved.

"Doesn't Levi know that Hange is a good swimmer?" Nifa asked from behind Nanaba.

Rico scoffed. "You tell me. I always have to train for the swimming competitions, but I can never beat her." Rico always dreaded when her cabin was put up against Hange’s. She usually placed at either second or third place. No one could outswim Hange, not even Levi.

They watched as Levi grabbed Hange, threw her over his shoulder, and made his way back to his cabin. The onlookers made a path for him because they were too scared to focus on Levi.

The girls sighed with relief. This was practically a typical day at Camp Paradis.

Nanaba turned to Rico and Nifa. "Anyone up for a snack at the dining hall?"

After everything they just saw, Rico and Nifa both nodded in agreement.

---

"Is the cabin empty?" Hange asked from behind the bathroom door. It has been an hour since the incident. Levi had dragged her into his cabin, and he threw her into his bathroom. He also gave her some of his extra set of clothes and demanded that she took a bath before she gets sick.

Each cabin has two bathrooms, so each camper only had to share with one person. Levi shoved Hange into his/Eren's bathroom while he took a shower in Jean/Connie's. Hange freshened up and clean, stood stationary behind the bathroom door. She practically smelled like Levi. From the soap, she used to the clothes she wore. They all smelled like the definition of clean.

"Yes." That was all Levi replied with a slightly irritated tone in his voice.

Hange groaned from behind the door and rested her forehead on the hardwood. That was the voice Levi would use when he was ready to lecture her. She leaned her head back and placed her hand on the doorknob. She took a deep breath as she opened the door and met Levi's expecting face. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly, he had his arms crossed over his chest, and he looked a bit irritated.

(Hange was thankful that he was dressed similarly to her and she did not walk out to see him shirtless)

She walked towards Levi, sitting on his bed. Each cabin is big enough for each camper to have a total of four beds. Each footstep was like a walk of shame for Hange. Yet, Levi did not say a word. He spoke up the moment she sat down next to him on the bed. The bed shifted down slightly from the extra weight.

"Hange, what were you thinking? You did not have a life jacket on, and you fell in the middle of the lake. You scared a lot of the camp and me. Be careful next time you pull something like that," He said while facing her, concern laced in his voice.

Hange rubbed the back of her neck nervously. She looked up to meet Levi's steel-gray eyes.

"I'm sorry I worried everyone, Levi. I will be more considerate next time. Although…"

Hange began to chuckle to herself at the memory of Levi umping in to save her.

"You know I'm a good swimmer, right?" She placed her hand on Levi's shoulder and shook it slightly. "I would have made it back just fine-"

She stopped shaking his shoulder and sets it down on her lap. "I appreciate you umping in to save me, though." She said with a grin.

Suddenly, Hange raised her hands and leaned forward. She wrapped both of her arms around Levi's midsection and pulled him close to her body for a hug. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Levi."

Levi prayed that Hange could not feel his heart pounding against his chest or see him blush. His crush was close to him, for crying out loud!

He moved his arms to hug Hange back. He could feel nervousness rising up in his body along with his rapid heartbeat. This is it. He will confess to Hange now, and it does not matter if he gets rejected or not. She had to know, even if the song she sang was for someone else.

Levi leaned back from Hange, but he maintained the hug. Their faces were only a few inches away from each other.

"Hange, I have something to tell you. I need you to hear me out for a few minutes."

Hange nodded in agreement. "Ok…" she said with some uncertainness. She was unsure what he was going to say, and he gave her the most serious look on his face. He stared deeply into her amber-brown eyes.

"I appreciate you."

Huh?

Hange tilted her head in confusion. "Come again, Levi."

Levi looked away and sighs. Ok. That was not a rejection. He just has to change tactics to get it to Hange and hopefully not make it sound awkward. Levi had no experience with him confessing before. Other girls had confessed to him, but it was with material stuff. He wanted to use words for his confession.

Levi looked up again and stared into Hange's eyes again. "I want to dedicate my heart to you." Ok, now that sounded a bit too much.

Levi continued speaking anyway before he could change tactics again.

"I just want to say that I like you, Hange." He said sincerely. "I like listening to you talk, your personality, and your humor. I want you to at least be aware before we go to college and if the song from earlier is not for me."

Levi stared at Hange's face and attempted to read her emotions. Her eyes widened with shock, and her mouth was open in a small o. She stayed that way for a few minutes until the shock became full-on laughter.

Hange was laughing at him.

She let go of Levi and threw her head back. Her face was full of delight.

Usually, Levi would not mind listening to her laugh, even if it was at him. It was one of his favorite sounds to her, not that she needed to know that.

However, this is different from before. Levi frowned but did not make a move to stand up. He needed an explanation for this.

Hange turned back to Levi after she calmed down a bit. "Levi." She said. Her voice had some laughter evident in her voice. Here comes the rejection.

"The song was for you."

What?

Levi only blinked in response. Hange began to swing her legs a bit and placed her hands on her lap. "I wanted to confess to you today, and I thought what serenade you from the lake." She explained.

"I guess I was too excited to miss some necessities. Sorry about that, by the way."

She leaned forward to grab Levi's right hand. Levi made no move to remove it, so she interlocks their fingers together.

"But you beat me to it, huh, Levi?" She chuckled while staring down fondly at their hands.

Levi stared at their hands as well. He could not believe this. They were going to confess to each other on the same day.

Suddenly, Levi leaned forward to rest his head on Hange's shoulder. "Will you be my girlfriend, Hange?"

Hange turned to Levi in shock. Levi moves his head to meet her eyes. The eyes he adores.

Hange smiled at him. Her eyes glowed with happiness. "Yes." That was enough for Levi.

He let go of Hange's hand and placed it on the back of her head. He grasped her hair a bit but not rough at all.

Hange watched as Levi leaned closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Until they were a few centimeters apart. The cabin was quiet except for their breathing. Both of their breaths fanned each other's faces.

"What are you doing, Levi?" Hange asked with a hint of curiosity. She made no move to pull away, so Levi took it as a sign to explain his motives.

"Can I kiss you?"

Hange blinked a few times before nodding her head to give Levi an ok.

Levi closed the gap between the two. It was a short and sweet kiss. There heat or desire to move their relationship up to another base.

They leaned back from the kiss with a happy look on their faces. Hange had a goofy grin while Levi smiled at her. It was rare to see Levi smile, and Hange was delighted to be a source for it.

"That was my first kiss," Hange confessed.

"Mine too." Levi chuckled. His hand was still gripping Hange's hair. He kept his grip as he elated back on the bed, bringing Hange down with him.

"Levi!" Hange exclaimed and sat up on her elbows. Who knew Levi was so bold?

"What if the other campers see us?" She said with some nervousness.

Levi rolled his eyes and lightly flicked Hange's forehead. "We are not having sex. I'm just tired, and I want to take a nap with my girlfriend."

He smirked. "Besides, I sent my campers over to Furlan's cabin. They won't come back until we have to go to bed."

Hange looked at him suspiciously while rubbing her forehead from earlier. "You promise?"

Levi nodded his head. "I promise."

Hange let out a small yawn. It has been a long day. She moved so she can lay her body to the spot next to Levi. Meanwhile, Levi turned over to face his nightstand, so he can set his alarm for them to wake up before dinner. He then picked up the blanket and placed it over both of their bodies. They were both facing the wall.

"Sleep well, Hange." He spooned her from behind and placed a small kiss on the back of her neck.

Hange smiled before getting comfortable in Levi's arms. "Goodnight, Levi."

The two spent a few minutes in silence and tranquility. Levi was happy to spend some quality time with his dream girl.

“Hey, Levi. Use that dedicate your heart line for when you propose.” He can hear the smugness in Hange’s voice.

He lightly kicked her on the shin. “Go to sleep.”

Hange could not see it, but Levi had a small smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep.

---

"I KNEW IT!!!" Nanaba yelled while standing up and pointing at the new couple walking into the dining hall holding hands. Erwin and Mike were startled by the sudden outburst. Furlan was smirking victoriously. His friend, Isabel, rolled her eyes at Furlan's smirk.

(Petra, Nifa, Moblit, and Rico were sitting at another table noticed the couple at the doorway. Nifa and Petra squealed in delight while Rico and Moblit smiled. The other girls from Hange's cabin squealed as well since they secretly shipped her with Levi).

Levi and Hange stopped walking. Hange started laughing behind her free hand, and Levi gave Nanaba an annoyed look.

Everyone stopped eating to turn to the source of the sound. Nanaba, noticing the multiple stares, rubs the back of her head nervously and laughs. "Sorry about that, go back to eating."

Furlan smirked as Levi and Hange passed by the usual table to get some food. He turned to Isabel sitting next to him. He stuck his hand out to her and moved his fingers in pay-up motion. "Pay up, Isabel. I won the bet."

Isabel stuck out her tongue at him. "If only Levi-Bro waited until the end of the summer. I would have won 50 bucks," she said while reluctantly handing Furlan 50 dollars.

Furlan hummed in content and pocketed the money in his shorts pocket. "Appreciate the business, Izzy. Now, are you willing to put down money for when Levi and Hange get married?" He said and held his hand out for a handshake to seal the agreement.

Isabel smirked and shook Furlan's hand in agreement. "You're on, Furlan. We'll discuss this later." She turned away from Furlan and smiles at the couple coming to their table. "The new couple is coming here now."

"Hi everyone!" Hange beamed after sitting down across from Furlan. Levi sat between Hange and Nanaba.

Everyone at the table said hi in reply.

Erwin pushed his finish tray slightly on the table in front of him and turned to Hange. "Congratulations, Hange and Levi. I hope the two of you have a happy relationship."

Nanaba and Mike smiled as well. "Congrats, Levi," said Nanaba.

"Congrats, Hange," said Mike.

"I knew you could do it. Levi-Bro! You have had a crush on Hange since forever!" Isabel exaggerated the word forever.

Levi blushed, and Furlan smirked. He turned to Hange. "Say, Hange. How many kids-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Furlan." Levi threatened, yet his face was still red from blushing. He did not want Furlan to bring up the conversation about children from earlier today.

Hange laughed from the interaction and leaned down to kiss Levi on the cheek. "Don't worry about him, Furlan." She leaned down towards his ear.

"We can discuss the number of children we would have later." She winked at him and went back to eating as if nothing happened between the two. Meanwhile, Levi opened his mouth slightly in shock. He did not expect that out of Hange! Mike, Erwin, and Furlan chuckled at this.

Nanaba (who luckily did not hear Hange) still noticed Levi's shock. "Levi, close your mouth before some flies get in." she lectured to him in a motherly tone. This broke Levi out of his shock, and he goes back to focus on eating.

Everyone continued talking and sharing any recent stories they had. Suddenly, Hange slammed her hands down on the table, shocking everyone at the table. She turned to face Levi.

"Levi! Where is Mikasa? We need to tell her about us!" She exclaimed and shook Levi's shoulders.

Oh, right. Hange would want to tell Mikasa about her new relationship since she saw Mikasa as family. Plus, they will most likely be an actual family in the future. Levi raised his hands up to grab Hange's and set it down on her lap. "Stop, Hange. She's probably eating with Eren and Armin. We can tell her later."

Erwin raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Actually, Levi. I haven't seen Mikasa ever since she showed up with Sasha and Historia. Isabel put her utensils down and joined in on the conversation.

"I saw her with Eren and Armin an hour before dinner. They were sitting together deep in a conversation…"

Levi looked up to scan his eyes across the dining hall. He noticed Armin's blonde hair sitting at his regular table with his friends. He sat at a table with Jean, Connie, Sasha, Ymir, and Historia. He noted how Armin noticed his stare and looked away as if he was scared of him.

Mikasa and Eren were nowhere in sight.

---

Bonus:

"Be careful, Eren!"

Mikasa said while raising her voice slightly. She did not want to yell, or else she might alert anyone in the forest.

"I'll be fine, Mikasa," he assured her. "I can feel it! Bigfoot is nearby." He said with excitement.

"This is the last time, Eren. We are already missing dinner, and who knows if Armin can stall for us any longer. Levi is going hunt us down. Plus, I don't want to end up in Camp Marley again."

Mikasa and Eren only had a few snacks on them. Mikasa managed to slip into her cabin to grab some from Sasha's secret stash. Sasha and Historia were busy watching the chaos at the lake.

"I promise, Mikasa. Thank you for coming with me. I don't think I can do this alone." He turned back to Mikasa with a big grin. He was also recalling the time he was searching in the forest to find Bigfoot and ran into an angry Hange instead,

Mikasa smiled in return, and the two continued their search to find Bigfoot.

Meanwhile, the two did not realize that they passed a figure watching them from a reasonable distance away behind a tree. Its eyes watched as the two humans continued their search. It slipped away sneakily into the darkness. It went away from Camp Paradis and towards the forest near Camp Marley instead.

---

Some quick notes:  

I kinda based this fic off of one scene from Pitch Perfect 2 and other summer camp-related movies I watched (I don't have much knowledge of summer camp 😭)

Cabin names are based on scientific names of different animals

I hc Hange being good at swimming. Let's face it. If she can swim down a river while carrying a 65 kg man, and miraculously not get any gunshot wounds (not counting a spike in adrenaline to live); I'm sure Hange is a good swimmer.

[suunnysyde]

Haikyuu x reader headcannons

Guess what mamas 🙄

I died, decided to write Haikyuu headcannons for when they’re dating you, and voila! Bon appetite.

I made these for what?? Nothing, so I decided better get some use out of it.

* I tried to not make it too biased on anything, for example not many milk mentions for Kageyama or video games for Kenma. I slipped a few times oops.

Content under tag cause its a long one lmao

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[ GIRLS ]

- You and Alisa dress each other up.

- Alisa would take you shopping for your dates with Lev ( or her )

- You hype Yachi up when she feels down.

- You play volleyball with Kiyoko sometimes, that’s partly why she got good.

- Yachi probably has a lower than normal immune system so you’re taking her of her a lot, think of it as a way of giving back to her.

- Kiyoko prepares the most extravagant dates for you, if you ask why she merely says “only the best for my lover.”

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[ KARASUNO ]

- Kageyama would file your nails while you talk if he sees you picking on them.

- Hinata would go to school with his nails painted because his sister painted them. On that note, Hinata would paint your nails if you needed help on your non-dominant hand.

- Tsukishima and Akaashi would grab your hand when they’re nervous and squeeze it gently.

- Asahi likes it when you play with his hair.

- Dates with Yamaguchi would either be ordering take-out and binging anime or just cuddling and sleeping.

- Nishinoya would teach you ‘Rolling Thunder’ if you asked.

- Nishinoya also really likes it when you play with his hair.

- You and Tsukishima have study dates at a cafe and eat strawberry shortcake.

- Sometimes Sugawara goes to your house to cook for you. Or you both cook together and then share it to the team as a treat.

- Daichi would take you out to a carnival and win whatever you want for you.

- Nishinoya’s grandfather adores you, and always asks how you are. And scolds Nishinoya in front of you sometimes, saying how he should treat you right.

- Tsukishima would make playlists with songs that remind him of you.

- You let Yamaguchi explain volleyball shenanigans so he remembers them.

- Kageyama *loves* getting hugs from you, but doesn’t start them in fear you don’t want to reciprocate the hug.

- If you play volleyball you practice spiking with Hinata so he can practice receiving.

- You and Asahi go to movie drive ins and cuddle in the backseat.

- If you do something to Asahi’s hair, like a hairstyle, he would wear it around without taking it off. Nishinoya comments on his hair saying how he’s lucky to have a girl like you.

- The pretty setter squad ( specifically Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi and Oikawa ) are all really observant so if you have some random cut they’ll and you don’t notice they’ll put a bandaid on you.

- Daichi keeps a note on his phone on things you like and don’t like plus things you’ve said.

- Tsukishima let’s you wear his glasses when you two are alone, he enjoys seeing you happy. Even if he doesn’t admit it.

- If you have freckles Hinata would count them and draw constellations on your face. ( bonus: he kisses each individual freckle )

- Kageyama tries to braid your hair, he’ll probably just tangle it though.

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[ NEKOMA ]

- Kenma knows how to braid hair pretty well, so he would often practice on you, if you have short hair small braids.

- Kenma also likes to rest his head near your neck, it feels like you’re somehow protecting him from the outside world.

- Kuroo takes you on beach dates during summer vacation.

- You and Kuroo would throw insults at each other to see who gets mad first, loser normally buys food. On that note if you’re close to breaking and you’ve lost twice in a row he’ll call quits.

- The pretty setter squad ( specifically Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi and Oikawa ) are all really observant so if you have some random cut they’ll and you don’t notice they’ll put a bandaid on you.

- Kenma would name his starter Pokémon after you, since he keeps his starter till the end. ( bonus: uses a lot of potions on you so you don’t faint )

- Kenma gets you stuffed animals when he goes to the arcade.

- Yaku treats your wounds if you trip and scrape your knee. ( carries first aid kit for his wounds )

- Alisa would take you shopping for your dates with Lev ( or her )

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[ FUKŪRODANI ]

- Tsukishima and Akaashi would grab your hand when they’re nervous and squeeze it gently.

- Bokuto often calls you at 3am to ask you to go with him to a supermarket or to tell you he’s outside your house.

- Akaashi would help you study for your exams, he can quickly grasp any subject’s basics.

- Akaashi would read you what he’s reading at the moment, or a resumen of what’s happening.

- TW: SWEAR // Kenma is shit at 8ball so he tends so ignore your 8ball advances.

- The pretty setter squad ( specifically Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi and Oikawa ) are all really observant so if you have some random cut they’ll and you don’t notice they’ll put a bandaid on you.

- You and Bokuto dance in the rain even if Akaashi advises against it because you two always get sick afterwards.

- Bokuto loves PDA and showing you off in general ( “HEY GUYS! LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL LOVER!” )

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[ AOBA JOHSAI ]

- Iwaizumi does work out dates ( pls his muscles )

- You and Oikawa would watch crappy movies and judge them. Especially sappy romance movies, though he jokes about going on cheesy dates with you.

- The pretty setter squad ( specifically Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi and Oikawa ) are all really observant so if you have some random cut they’ll and you don’t notice they’ll put a bandaid on you.

- Oikawa would ask you to make him lunches as he adores your cooking.

- Iwaizumi makes you lunches, pretty good cook.

- If any of his fangirl do anything to you Oikawa will not hesitate to scold them, he won’t leave your side afterwards for a week.

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[ SHIRATORIZAWA ]

- Tendo and Futakuchi would start prank wars with you.

- Tendo once joked about committing arson with you. ( once, for now )

- Tendo brought you to an abandoned building with pizza and you both ate pizza at the rooftop before stargazing.

- Tendo has joked frequently about stealing a stop sign though, it’s on his bucket list on things to do with you.

- //TIMESKIP Tendo makes you chocolate for when you’re on your period ( if you like chocolate )

- Ushijima *never* gets sick. Bacteria are scared of him.

- Tendō always talks to you about the latest manga and encourages you to read it with him.

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[ JOHENZI and ITACHIYAMA ]

- Terushima once brought you out to a laser tag date, it got intense. He lost. No mercy.

- Terushima’s music taste changes every month so every month he makes you a playlist of the songs he likes most.

- Sakusa likes it both when he plays with your hair and when you play with his, although he won’t admit the latter.

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[ DATEKO ( DATE TECH ) ]

- Tendo and Futakuchi would start prank wars with you.

- You and Aone go to petting zoos as dates.

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OUTRO

now, now, wait. Before you go. If you made it this far lmao, allow me to serenade you, with Haikyuu Chants

TW: all caps

( idk if I had to mark that but I know someone who hates all caps so ye )

AOBA JOHSAI, AOBA JOHSAI ( OH! )

OOOOH SEIJOH

NEKOMA NEKOMA, NEKO NEKO, NEKO MA

SHIIIIIRATORIZAWA ( dun dun ) SHIIIIIRATORIZAWA

GO GO LETS GO, LETS GO DATEKO

NOHEBI NOHEBI NOHEBI * smt in japanese * HA CHI CHI CHI

[writingbyricochet]

For the ask game:

#1 for Eddie/Sophie because I wanna know how these two idiots express their (in denial) love for each other

#28 for Andrew/Dorothy because their love is for the ages and Ack Ack is a true gentleman

yes bestie

1. What’s their love languages?

I'm interpreting this as what they prefer to receive rather than give.

Sophie: Acts of service. She's still helping at home even though she only gets a day and a half off for every eight days she works, so there are always things she needs to do when she has time away from her job. She appreciates Eddie helping with things like taking the trash out, washing dishes, or yard work, it gives her back a little time for herself or with friends.

Eddie: Physical touch. War is the complete antithesis of the touch from a loved one, given that it's full of terrible wounds, mutilation, and the corruption of the body in general. Even if being tended to by a corpsman or nurse who is more careful, the context of it is fundamentally violent. He's liable to stiffen up at first when Sophie initiates touch because he's been deprived of it specifically as a gesture of love. Once he gets accustomed again, it's what he values the most because he went for so long without it.

28. What’s something that reminds them of their partner(s)? Do they have anything on them daily as a reminder (a photo, phone background, tattoo, clothing/accessory, etc)?

Dorothy: Anything that's related to fall, so changing leaf colors, apples, football, etc. Not only is it a season of change and a time when families come together, it's also when she met Andy, so she always becomes sentimental during the season. She has his class ring since he didn't want to risk losing it during the war.

Andy: Glenn Miller! I know you might be surprised since we've only talked about him in context of WPDL, but Andy and Dorothy met while they were both still students. Because they went to different universities in different states, they didn't always get to attend the dances and formals together, so the ones they did are special—I imagine them ending the night slow-dancing outside under a string of fairy lights while the band plays Moonlight Serenade or Moonlight Cocktail :') He has a photo of them at the 1941 end-of-year Bowdoin formal ball, his senior year.

send me a question about ships!

[mysticaltigersorceress]

Insubstantial

This is a piece I did for @nakunakunomi 's Trope Writing Challenge. Somehow, the prompt generator just smelled the angst on me, I nearly died laughing when I got the prompt xD.

The trope was: Confessing your love to someone unconscious/in a coma, only for them to wake up.

Random Word I had to include: arrangement.

Hope you enjoy, and #sorrynotsorry. I at least decided to end happily.

Length: 1.9k

Warnings: reader gets injured (not described in detail, but blood mentioned), angst

Summary:

Ao3: over here uwu

Usopp would be the first to (quietly) admit that he was a scaredy-cat. Did it ever hurt to err on the side of caution when living such a dangerous life? (He would argue that no, no it did not.)

But when it came to you, there were so, so many things that scared him. Not that you were scary, you were just– Oh gosh, everything you did set free kaleidoscopes of butterflies in his stomach; a simple smile meant just for him was enough to stop and restart his heart faster than any battle or foe ever had.

He wanted to tell you so badly that he lo– lov– liked you, very much. Usopp had rehearsed hundreds of scenarios in his head where he told you how he felt. Of course, he had also envisioned what your response may be. Some days, he imagined telling you poetry he wrote for you and you would swoon over his words, showering him in adoration and begging him not to stop. Other days, he imagined you laughing at his silly serenades but accepting them anyway, perhaps even making up a ditty of your own for him.

Oh, who was he kidding? At the end of the day, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, not in that way. He didn’t want you to hate him for trying to force something that wasn’t meant to be. Your relationship was fine as it was right now, wasn’t it?

Usopp would crack jokes he just knew would make you laugh (and nearly got strangled several times by the crew for some of his pranks), and you would tease him and make references to inside jokes with him. He would save your favorite snacks for when you would help him tend to his pop-green garden, and you would steal his hat while you worked in the sun. Usopp even strayed further into battlefields than he normally would like, just to make sure you always had backup. And even then, you would always watch out for him to make sure no one got too close to him, saying “a sniper always worked best with distance, right?” The unspoken arrangement he had worked out in regards to how your relationship worked was something Usopp decided he could live with. Perhaps it was not perfectly ideal, but good friends would just have to be good enough.

Until it suddenly wasn’t good enough.

Until suddenly, you were crumpled on Sunny’s deck, life slowly seeping out of you, hit by an unexpected attack.

An attack you had shoved Usopp out of the way of.

It wasn’t enough as he scrambled across the deck to you, whilst the Strawhat Pirates rained justice upon those who dared harm their nakama.

It wasn’t anywhere near enough as he screamed for Chopper, clutching you desperately in his arms, trying to get some form of consciousness to register in your expression. Pressing his hand then shirt to the wound, anything to try to staunch the bleeding.

Everything he previously thought was enough for him felt wimpy and hollow as you lay limp in the infirmary, breathing ever so shallowly. Chopper had to eventually kick Usopp out for repeatedly panicking, thinking your breathing had stopped.

The words and feeling that he normally tucked away in the back of his mind now screamed relentlessly at him as he collapsed outside the infirmary with the rest of the crew, waiting for word of your condition. He nearly totally cried when Chopper said you were stable for now.

Day after day was spent by your side, coming up with a million reasons to stay with you whenever possible, a million excuses more as to why he always had to be there. All of the reasons were technically true, however, he never said his biggest reason of all.

That he lo-

lov-

Of– of course he was worried about his nakama, you had saved his life! He wanted to be there when you woke up, to thank you (and perhaps to smack you upside the head for doing something so foolish). To ask you why you would let yourself get hurt for him, when you had so many strong nakama around you. If you, perhaps– no. You were his nakama after all. That's all it was. Concern for a fellow crewmate. Nothing more.

He'd tinker by your bedside, quietly narrating his actions (and occasionally making up your responses as well.) He could almost picture exactly how the exchange would go when you woke up. You would open your eyes, groggy but feeling considerably better. You'd see him there and ask him if you had your favorite snack in his bag (which he totally did) and cheekily ask if he’d been worrying this whole time about you (which he totally had been). Usopp didn't like to think he was that predictable, but maybe you two just knew each other that well.

So when he walked into the galley to hear the words, “They may or may not wake up”, he was filled with a fear and a fury he had not felt so strongly since he was told they had to continue on their journey without Merry.

“What do you mean they may not wake up?” Usopp growled, clenching his fists in a feeble attempt to keep his hands from shaking. Chopper jumped guiltily at Usopp's question, and he could feel the eyes of the crew turn to him.

“They’re in a coma, Usopp. They could wake up in a few days. Or it could be weeks, months, years.” Chopper spoke reluctantly. “We have to be ready in case they never–”

“DON’T SAY IT!”

Choppers face creased worryingly. “We don’t want it to happen, but–”

“BUT WHAT? You’re just going to give up on your nakama!?” Tears were forming in the little deer’s eyes as Usopp yelled.

“Usopp.” Usopp froze as his friend and captain called his name. No other words had to be spoken. Usopp opened his mouth, but his throat was tight. None of the words felt right. There were too many of them. They were too harsh. Too painful. Too little for everything he needed to express. So he ran out.

He walked into his little tinkering space only to walk straight back out again. He was quite sure attempting to work on any project would simply leave him more frustrated than he already was. He tried to water his Pop-Greens, but the garden was so empty without you there. Before he knew it, his feet had carried him back to the infirmary. He sighed as he let himself in, head hung low; you would probably be upset at him for yelling at Chopper like that. It wasn’t Chopper’s fault you were in a coma. He needed to go apologize to Chopper, to everyone.

“Usopp.” Usopp startled at Franky’s voice, not having noticed the cyborg when he entered. The heavy weight of Franky’s hand settled on Usopp's head before he could try to escape or squeak out an apology. “They’ll wake up when they’re ready. And we’ll be right here waiting for them.” He then ruffled his hair and walked out, shutting the door softly behind him.

Usopp dug his nails into his palms until they stung, furiously straining to hold back the emotion slipping through every crack. His cheeks were soon soaked and he tasted blood from biting his lip in his attempt to stay quiet. A soft sound caught his attention and his head whipped in your direction.

You were still laying exactly as you were before, quietly breathing. Something about seeing you calmed him, despite all the bandages and IV’s. He was able to let all the racing thoughts drift to the back of his mind, and sunk exhaustedly into the chair beside your bed.

A single hand rested atop your sheets, and he found himself taking your hand into his. Your hand was so limp. It was so easy to imagine you were– no! You would wake up, and when you did, oh no, what if you lost your memory, or what if you couldn’t make a full recovery? Or–

“No! Damn it!” Usopp cursed. He wasn’t going to imagine the worst. For once in his god-damned life he was going to be positive! He was positive you would recover! He was positive you would smile again! You would remember him, you would remember the crew! You would get back to perfect health, and you would live out your dreams! You would... be happy to see him.

Usopp rubbed his thumbs against the back of your hand. There was still a little scar there from when one of his plants nipped you, back when he first planted his Pop-Greens, when the crew reunited in Sabaody after two years apart. The quiet moment you both had in the Sunny’s garden was something he held onto dearly and thought about frequently. You had listened so closely as he told you about his new plants and time in the Boin Archipelago. A certain flower caught your eye, and before he could warn you, it bit your hand. Of course, it had to be one of the poisonous ones, and just as Heracles’n had taught him, he sucked the poison out of the wound and spat it to the deck then wrapped it with bandage. For a fraction of a second, there was something he couldn’t quite identify in your eyes, but then he told you that you should have Chopper look at it just in case. As you walked away, something in him screamed to tell you how he felt, but just as usual, he let you walk away. He let himself act cowardly, despite all his declarations otherwise.

And now, more than ever, he regretted the words he frequently swallowed. And, maybe, just once, since you were asleep, he could say them. It would be good practice, to see if they fit right in his mouth. If they fit right, being said to you.

“Y/n… Please, wake up. We miss you… We need you.. I– I need you,” He gazed softly at your face, before lowering his head and holding your hand to his forehead. “I know I’m a damn coward, but please wake up so I can tell you at least once to your face, whatever you may think. I– I–”

Usopp cursed himself for stumbling over these words. Why was this so difficult?

“You’re– you're everything to me. You’re my friend. You’re my sunshine. You’re confusing and addicting and I always want to be with you, and I want to make you as happy as you make me. I just– I– I love you.” Usopp finally whispered. “And it’s a stupid dream, but I hope you love me too.” Tears flowed freely down his cheeks again, and he squeezed your hand tightly.

And something flicked his nose.

Usopp jerked up in shock to see you wearily smiling at him.

“Aww, you missed me?” You croaked. Usopp began openly sobbing and yelling incoherently. Softly chuckling, you weakly tugged him closer and moved the hand he held to his cheek and brushed it lightly. “I’m sorry I made you worry.” You then pulled him toward you and hugged him as best you could, and (after getting over his shock,) he wrapped his arms around you as well, holding as tightly as he could without causing you pain.

You found your eyes welling up from the emotion in his declaration, and tightened your hold on him. “I suppose I'm a coward for not telling you before, but I love you too, Usopp.”

[a-libra-writes]

Fighting Alongside the GoT Characters & They Realize You’re a Woman

THIS IS A NEAT IDEA + a request woop woop, I hope i did it justice, anon!

I didn’t include some characters because a few started to get repetitive, or bc I genuinely struggled with them. If i removed or didnt include your fav, serenade my ask box and ill add them!

In this preference, you'll be fighting with: Ned Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Benjen Stark, Jory Cassel, Dolorous Edd, Tormund Giantsbane, Theon Greyjoy, Yara Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Missandei, Tyrion Lannister, Jamie Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn, Stannis Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Margaery Tyrell, Brienne of Tarth, Roose Bolton, Ramsay Bolton, Oberyn Martell, Beric Dondarrion

NED STARK

When you removed your helmet, Ned was certainly taken for surprise, but it wasn’t so unheard of for women to fight in the North - for a moment he wondered if you were with the Mormont family and he just didn’t recognize you. He’d thank you for helping him in battle and once he was home, ask around to see if anyone had heard of you. If you were the daughter of a knight or soldier at Winterfell, he’d feel quite abashed for not knowing you, and he’d make a point to try and speak to you again.

ROBB STARK

In the middle of battle, Robb noticed you were consistently protecting other men on the battlefield. He focused his attention back on the battle and at one point, you intercepted a soldier coming for him. After the battle, Robb looked for you, and was stunned to silence when you removed your helmet. He quickly recovered himself and thanked you for protecting his men and himself. If you had time, he’d want to know more about you, especially how you learned how to fight so well.

SANSA STARK

A tourney had gotten out of hand, and you were the one to shield Sansa away from a drunken crowd that turned into an outright brawl. She got separated from everyone, and you easily guided her home. She’d graciously thank you, asking if you were a Ser, and she wouldn’t hide her surprise once you pulled your hood back and showed your face. She’d think about you well after she went back into the Red Keep, and ask her handmaidens if they knew of a woman with a pretty face and a sword at her waist.

JON SNOW

Jon flounders a little when he finds out. He was thanking you for your help and complimenting the quality of your sword, then you took off your helmet and his words suddenly sputtered and failed him. You could probably tease him a bit for it, and he’d apologize with a blush. Jon wouldn’t be able to hide his curiosity as to who taught you how to use the sword, and he could definitely be goaded into a spar. The matter of how you ended up at the Night’s Watch occurred to him as well, and you certainly had to elbow him when he tried to ask you something in front of others.

BENJEN STARK

He had a few suspicions when he’d seen you before, but his attention was quickly taken away when a pack of wildlings attacked you and his scouting party. You watched his back more than once, and he did the same, and you two dealt with the wildlings fairly quickly. Once you both were alone, he’d just bluntly ask if you were a woman. He’d want to know more about you and why you were here of all places, asking with a genial smile. He wasn’t judging, you could tell, and he wouldn’t expose your secret. 

JORY CASSEL

He was pleasantly surprised when you stepped in to help him fend off some opportunistic bandits. Once you revealed yourself, he couldn't hide his surprise and stumbled on his initial words. He still thanked you and he'd think about you for some time after, wondering if anyone at Winterfell has heard of you. If you ran into each other again, he’d take that chance to actually ask you his questions and get to know you better.

DOLOROUS EDD

He didn’t pay much attention to “the brother who creeps about in a hood”. You both were somewhat friendly, you were just quiet for obvious reasons. It wasn’t until you both got caught out beyond the Wall during an expedition, and a wildling yanked your hood off, did he realized why you were bundled up and hiding. It was just you and Edd that were caught out, and you more or less threatened them into silence. To say he was surprised was an understatement, but he played it cool, trying to get to know you throughout the trip and subtly distracting anyone who was bothering you.

TORMUND GIANTSBANE

Tormund would light up with absolute glee once he realized the crow he’d been watching in combat was actually a woman. He liked your style and asked you outright to show your face and give him a proper spar. It only made him like you even more, especially if you’d disarm him during the spar. He’d probably end up with a crush by the end of the day, and Jon would have to pull him away once he started asking after your battles and scars.

THEON GREYJOY

Theon actually scoffed when you remove your hood. There's no way a girl could've hit the bandits with the ferocity you did, but here you are. He's distinctly reminded of Yara when he sees the way you grip your weapon and glare at him, so he gives a half-baked thanks. Later in the Winterfell training yard, he'd laugh at the way you'd knock over Jon and Robb, until the two of them pushed him into the ring to fight you. He wondered how he’d never noticed you before, but not being noticed was kind of the point of your disguise. For every time you’d laugh at how easy it was to disarm him in a spar, he’d laugh at how sideways your arrows would fly.

YARA GREYJOY

She didn't pay attention to who was fighting alongside her until afterwards. When you removed your hood to shake out your hair, she just laughed outright, recalling just moments ago when you doubled over a man twice your size. She would then saunter over, bluntly asking why you were helping her and her men. Yara appreciated ferocity in a woman, and she’d say as much. She’d want to grab a drink with you and find out how experienced you truly were, and if you were looking for a crew to work on. Being surrounded by a bunch of men with only a few brains between them got exhausting, after all. 

DAENERYS TARGARYEN

You had heard of her exploits through Essos and travelled to Meereen to see the dragon queen for yourself. During a sudden revolt, you jumped forward beside her guard and helped fend off the angry crowd. Once she was safe in her palace, Daenerys demanded to see your face and know your intentions. You removed your hood and explained yourself. Admittedly, she was much more interested upon seeing your face, and she’d accept your service if you decided to pledge to her.

JORAH MORMONT

He’d seen and heard of women warriors in Essos, it wasn’t too unusual. He was still surprised when Viserys hired you to watch Daenerys on her wedding day, perhaps thinking she’d run. You and Jorah ended up with something of a rapport, especially once he saw you fight. He grew up with ladies in courtly dresses and manners, so to see such a pretty woman wield a weapon with such ferocity was an interesting and sometimes amusing sight.

MISSANDEI

Missandei rarely left the palace unless she followed Daenerys’ lead, and this was the exact reason why. She’d try to be stealthy, but she was caught up in a riot in Meereen. You pulled her to safety back to the palace, cutting down any that tried to hurt you both. There wasn’t time to talk until you both were finally safe - shaken, but safe. 

You’d finally remove your hood and ask if she was alright, and Missandei was surprised, but still grateful. She’d implore you to come into the palace, to see the khaleesi and perhaps you’d be rewarded. Missandei liked that you didn’t want a reward, but she’d still want your wounds to be tended to.

TYRION LANNISTER

Like the rest of the attending audience, Tyrion was shocked that it was a maiden who won the melee at Casterly Rock. It wasn't long before the gossip caught up and he learned your name and House, if you had one. Later at the feast, he'd make a point to bring you a cup of wine, since he heard many lords snickering and complaining about your win. He'd jest that you'd lost them quite a bit of gold, then would chat and try to learn about you. 

JAIME LANNISTER

You fought alongside him in his father’s army, and at first, he thought nothing of the soldier beside him, besides your competence and skill with the blade. It wasn’t until in the heat of a fight, when your helmet was knocked off, that he realized what you were. You scolded him for being distracted and retrieved your helmet after the battle. You then implored him to keep your secret, and Jaime did. He still thought of you sometimes, and would try to seek you out at camp, but you blended in too well with the other Lannister soldiers. It’s an understatement to say he was surprised to see you long after, when he returned to King’s Landing a very different man. You still had the same sword, the same armor that hid your features. It was oddly grounding to see something hadn’t changed, and this time, you gave him a smile. 

TYWIN LANNISTER

He'd heard some years ago about a lord in the Crownlands allowing his daughter to don armor and learn the sword, but Tywin never kept idle gossip in mind. The thought returned when you arrived with your lord father and his men, fresh off the battlefield. You removed your helmet and gave your courtesies, while your father remarked on how many Stark men you took the life of. After that, when his generals would disappoint him, Tywin would make a snide remark about how he ought to bring the Crownsland girl to the wartable, since her bannermen were doing more for the war. He might even call you into the war chambers and quiz you on strategy in front of them, just to make a point.

SANDOR CLEGANE

You were a sellsword hired by that Imp, along with those hill clans he brought along, but you certainly weren’t with them. He must’ve picked you off the street. Sandor thought something was off, but he also didn’t give a shit to investigate further. You were pretty short for a mercenary, though. It wasn’t until the riots, when the two of you went after the missing Stark girl, did your secret get out. Your hood was thrown off in the scuffle, but it hardly deterred you as you pulled Sansa to her feet and into his arms. On the way to the Keep, you had the mind to pull your hood back, but he already knew. It was a funny thing for a woman to carry a sword with such confidence, but you were useful in a fight, and you lacked the cruelty of most of the City Watch and Goldcloaks.

BRONN

Tyrion sent him looking for sellswords, so he did, listening for gossip around the city and checking the seedier taverns. You had a reputation, and he saw your skill firsthand when you handled yourself in a brawl some sellswords started. He didn’t join in until a sword came straight for his gut and you blocked it. Your eyes met for a moment before you returned to the fight. You hadn’t noticed your hood had fallen down. 

A woman with a sword was a strange thing, to be sure, but it could also be a useful thing. With a lopsided smirk, he offered you a drink and said a certain Hand of the King could use your sword.

STANNIS BARATHEON

You had distinguished yourself during the battle for Blackwater Bay, even if it was a failure. Not only had you killed a number of men, you saved a good amount of your own. When Stannis called you and a motley of other knights and soldiers to give credit where it was due, you wore your helmet, like the rest of them. And like the rest of them, you had to remove it when your king commanded. There was a rise of murmurs and hushed whispers across the room, and you were sure a flicker of surprise crossed Stannis’ face, but he pressed on. Your skill was recognized and you were given a newer, better command.

DAVOS SEAWORTH

You were one of the many sellswords brought to Dragonstone, and while Davos spoke with the leaders of their mercenary bands, he rarely met the individual warriors themselves. It was during one of these meetings that a sudden brawl broke out between a bunch of hot-blooded, bored men that you went to work in breaking up. You’d helped get Davos out of the way while the men were dealt with. Your hood had been torn in the process, and while he had seen plenty of women with weapons during his travels, it was still a little surprising, especially seeing one so young. He gave you genuine thanks and, if he saw you again, he’d make a point to say hello and ask after you. 

MARGAERY TYRELL

You were a supposed sellsword that saved Margaery and her guards on their way to King’s Landing. It was just bandits, but there were a number of them, and you got a wound for your troubles. Margaery positively lit up once she realized you were a woman, and a cute one, at that. She’d insist you come back with her, especially to tend to that wound, and she’d ask all sorts of questions on the way back. It almost felt like a job interview….

BRIENNE OF TARTH

You helped her fend off several soldiers on the battlefield, and she said a quick word of thanks before moving on. It wasn't until the battle had finished and she saw you around camp - the same armor and shield, sans a helmet. Brienne quickly approached you, baffled that she couldn't tell. She'd be very interested in your skills and would shyly ask after you. Secretly, she was delighted and intrigued, but she didn't want to annoy you with her questions. It was pretty obvious to see her interest, though, and Brienne would be more than willing to join you in a round of spars.

ROOSE BOLTON

Your father was an old sword for the Bolton house, and he taught you what he knew, provided you kept your head down and stayed out of trouble. You did so for years, no one suspecting until a battle against the Lannister men. You thought you were alone when you removed your helmet and armor and tended to a wound. Lord Bolton decided a woman with proficiency in swords and an ability to keep hidden for years in his own keep, could be put to better use than a common footsoldier. It didn't take long before he confronted you and assigned you under new orders.

RAMSAY BOLTON

Although he’d claim otherwise, Ramsay didn’t actually know every man and sword employed to the Bolton house. Some were strictly his father’s, and didn’t report to him. You were one of those swords, often keeping to yourself under a hood and few words. Unfortunately you were tasked with accompanying Ramsay to free Winterfell from the impromptu Greyjoy attack. When one of the Ironborn tore off your hood, he was there, and he saw. You recognized that glint of interest immediately, and promptly reminded him that you were a soldier for his father, not him. He didn’t command you, and you weren’t going to be a part of his little games.

OBERYN MARTELL

His skill with a spear was more than well known, and he was confident in his abilities, so Oberyn didn’t worry too much about bodyguards. His brother finally wore him down and he agreed to take two on an impulsive trip to King’s Landing. Sure, that was enough, and you came in handy when a sudden brawl broke out at the brothel he just insisted at staying at. In the midst of the fight, your hood was thrown off and he really stopped everything, even ignoring the man bleeding at your feet, just to get a look at you. He made some cheesy line about treating you like a proper lady, had he known, and offered you a drink. You pointed him to the angry matron of the brothel and suggested giving it to her instead.

BERIC DONDARRION

Like many in the Brotherhood of Banners, you joined after your village was destroyed by the Lannisters. You kept to yourself and kept your identity a secret. You trusted Beric as a good man, but some of the others, not so much. The first time he saw you fight properly is also when your identity was exposed, a soldier having ripped your cloak off. Beric just smiled and asked if you were alright, and complimented your skills with the sword. He had an inkling you were a woman when you both first met, and he was more than willing to keep it a secret if that’s what you wished. And, yes, he’d set your sword on fire if you asked- just once, though.

[astrology-india]

Dating an Aries Man - How to Make It Work

New Post has been published on https://www.astrology-india.com/dating-an-aries-man/

Dating an Aries Man - How to Make It Work

Aries is the first sign of the zodiac, a young soul in every sense. Some say he can be immature, combative, selfish, and a bit of a bully.

However, underneath it all, the young ram has a sweet, intelligent, and loyal side, as many dating an Aries man will attest to.

If you can keep his interest long enough to win him over, you will have a powerful, dominant, and protective lover and warrior who will support you until the end.

Best Match for Dating an Aries Man

Is it a romantic partner he is looking for? Or a sparring partner? Well, with the Aries it is a bit of both.

This man needs tons of physical affection and someone who can give him some pushback, aka a worthy opponent.

Some find this fun, but it is also for this reason he may not be suited for the more sensitive signs of the zodiac. Aries men are matched best with their fire sign counterparts like Leo, Sagittarius, and fellow Aries who share some of the sign’s similarities.

The Aries guy could be compatible with air signs as well. Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius can give this guy a run for his money without taking it all too personally.

Aries Man Dating Habits

When going out with your Aries do not expect to find the two of you enjoying a nice calm dinner with candle lights and a band serenading you- or if you do, do not expect to stay for very long.

The Aries man needs excitement, he is a thrill-seeker at heart. People, places, and things all lose his attention quickly.

Dating him, you can expect to bounce from place to place, hitting multiple locations in one night, or possibly for an entire day.

And if you do end up going to just one spot, it will not be a dull one. An amusement park? Swimming with sharks? Running from bulls?

Who knows where you will end up with the Aries guy, but just hope that it is in his arms at the end of the night.

Aries Man Dating Traits

Aries is an energetic and confident fire sign. This man is always on the move, and it may seem like he is looking for the next person, place, or thing to butt heads with, but really, he is just having some fun.

Those that know him best, including his partner, know this to be true. Those who have just met the young ram, however, may think he is a bit self-consumed.

He is independent, a man on a mission. When an Aries knows what he wants, there is not a thing in this world that will stop him from getting it, including a date.

Yes, the man will walk right up without having a doubt in his mind and make small talk, which quickly turns into flirting and playful teasing, and might even end in a wrestling match.

The man is an initiator, and he is full of energy and passion. Needless to say, he gets bored and restless very easily.

The Aries male will generally also have a big ego which he needs to feed to maintain how he sees himself in life. He needs to prove himself in everything he does including dating.

To become the object of his desire and to channel his enthusiastic drive into winning you over this short video shows how to make him obsessed with winning your love.

No one is trying to paint the Aries man as being “childish” here, even though he does have a young spirit. He is actually highly intelligent and an excellent conversationalist.

But you might have to hold him down to have one with him. Once you do, you will be pleasantly surprised by how well-rounded and refined the Aries can be.

Just like physical experiences, he needs excitement that stimulates his mind. Humor is essential to the Aries male.

While it seems like he takes life seriously, at the end of the day it is all in light-hearted fun. With this man, everything can be made into a joke.

Some people get it, and some do not. For those who do, they know to throw jokes right back at him. His perfect partner is someone who can both dish it and take it.

And he can take it. Well, usually. The Aries man can be surprisingly sensitive. Yeah, you would not have guessed for a fire sign.

But, while sensitive, he also does not hold on to ill feelings or grudges for long. He is an optimist, who lives life to the fullest and has tons to do.

So, naturally, he forgets his feelings were ever hurt, which makes fighting and making up relatively easy with the ram.

If he is still angry, you only need to take him into the bedroom to get some of the aggression out. Sure, all of this sounds captivating, like a character out of a movie.

But the Aries man is not for all.

Water and earth signs will likely not put up with his characteristics for long. They will either get their feelings hurt, feel bulldozed, or not understand why he does any of this stuff at all.

Likewise, since the above signs are toned-down and seem to prefer stability, the Aries man gets bored by them rather easily.

He will probably pick a fight and if they do not push back, he will get bored and go find someone else to spar with. Or if they take the bait and getting all wound up, he will get a chuckle but not find it challenging enough for him either.

This man’s ruling planet is Mars, which represents war, after all. Understanding why you need to make him fight for your love and attention is explained here in His Secret Obsession.

Sex with an Aries Man

The Aries male is full of vitality and extremely physical. Being a fire sign, he tends to express himself physically.

Since he is unable to muscle his way through every situation in life (as there are consequences for that), he finds that he can fully be himself in the bedroom, a place where he can shine.

It could be because he has a high sex drive, as Aries tend to do, or he likes the exercise that sex offers him, that the Aries guy spends a lot of time in the bedroom- sometimes all day.

With him, you can expect tons of wrestling, tossing, and general rough stuff. But beneath this macho exterior is a pussy cat who can be loving and tender when controlled.

The Aries guy’s fiery side can be tempered in the bedroom by his partner whispering in his ear and setting the pace. He wants above all to prove to himself he is a good lover.

Yes, he may on the surface appear dominant and even aggressive but a woman can use The Language of Desire to achieve the ultimate sexual experience between the sheets.

Dating an Aries Man Long Distance

Aries is flighty in general, but he is also the conqueror type who is constantly bouncing from one thing to be the winner at the next.

If you are away from him too long, the young ram could become bored and go out seeking his next challenge in the form of another partner.

However – and this is a big one – if he has won you over already, and you have done the same by showing him you are a worthy match, he will be loyal to you forever.

The secret lies in making sure you are constantly in his thoughts and this can be done by texting.

Not inundating him constantly with loads of messages but sending messages with true meaning that resonate with his subconscious mind.

You can find out more about this technique that uses carefully crafted sentences to keep his attention focused on you and only you by listening to this video on Text Chemistry here.

If your relationship is already solid, then you and the Aries guy will do just fine long distance. If he has your heart and you know it, then there is nothing at all to worry about.

Final Thoughts

The childlike warrior spirit of the Aries man is admirable, but not for all. To win him over in the bedroom The Language of Desire will send his passion for you to new heights.

Dating an Aries man is like stepping into the arena in full gladiator uniform and then running 100 miles afterward, all the while getting tons of love from this sweet fire sign.

If you have thick skin and a lot of energy, a fun, and playful nature, the Aries ram may be the perfect sign for you.

[nothinglost1976]

Stan Headcanons (Incomplete)-

Various AU-verses

•Hogwarts House - Ravenclaw

•Daemon (His Dark Material): Weasel named Eriphus.

•Circus Au: Stan would do aerial ribbon and aerial hoop. It’s the closest thing to actually flying he can get and despite the distance from the ground, he absolutely loves to let himself go when he performs. Sometimes during a hoop performance, he’ll involve some of the birds that perform. They’re his favorite partners.

•Subject(Maze Runner) - A23: The Intellect (Immune: Med-Jack)

•Zodiac House(Zodiac Novel Series): Cancer

•Fraction(Divergent) - Erudite

•District(Hunger Games) - District 3

•Half-Blood Camp(Percy Jackson) - Son of Pan

•Superpowers - Zoolingualism (Communicate with Animals), Biokinesis (Biological Manipulations), Thiriokinesis (Animal Control)

•Omegaverse(ABO-verse) - Depends on who his partner is.

*As an Alpha, he’s highly protective of his mate. His normally cool and composed behavior is still mostly there. His usual disposition slips a bit when a rut is active. He scents his mate a couple times daily. His scent smells similar to a pine tree.

*As a Beta, Stan is basically his usual self. He’s good at keeping both alphas and omegas calm.

*As an Omega, he’s a highly doting omega. Still his usual composed self unless he’s in a heat. He’s mildly more aggressive when trying to give himself to his mate. His scent is close to s’mores. He likes to be scented as often as possible.

•Darkest Minds - Orange

•Zombie Apocalypse AU: Weapon of Choice - His bird book and a club decorated with nails

•Supernatural Creature: Either Vampire(has purple eyes, Omni-Psionickinesis) or Witch

•Assassin AU: Bow & Arrow (tips usually dipped in an undetectable poison) or knives/blades of some sort (also dipped in same poison as his arrowheads). His Creed tattoo (located on his wrist where he can cover using a watch or a wrist band/cuff):

Headcanons

•Despite not having seen his friends in years, Stan has every book by Bill (as well as any movie adaptation) and every performance done by Richie(Saved/Downloaded). He also has merchandise from Richie’s shows (usually shirts). Anything that was made and sold by the other Losers, he has (at least a few of each product).

•The only two pets Stan has are a parrotlet named Galaxy and a canary named Lady. He cleans their cages and dishes twice daily.

•He listens to a lot of The Beatles and The Mamas & The Papas but when he’s alone, he listens to a mix of basically everything.

•Stan tries to get over his fears by attempting to watch horror movies by himself but he usually shuts it off ten to twenty minutes into the movie.

•Stan can play piano and violin like a pro. He doesn’t play in front of his friends or anyone really. He’s shy about anyone hearing him.

•He’s demisexual. He’s only had a handful of close enough connections that he’d even consider being in relationships with. He’s a (mostly) gentle lover and is versatile (Switch). If you obey what he says (because he likes his control) then he stays pretty gentle with things. If you don’t, he gets more firm/rough/Dominant

•Stan has six tattoos in various spots. One for each of the Losers. Each tattoo is the size of either two fingers or the palm sized. The tattoos on his waist are all below his pant waistline. You have to remove the pants to see them.

*Richie’s tattoo. It has a ribbon wrapping around that says Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier. It’s palm sized and is located on his lower (almost on his upper thigh) left hip.

*Eddie’s tattoo. The words are replaced with Eddie Kaspbrak. It’s the length of his wrist and the size of three fingers. It’s located on his right hip, just as low as Richie’s.

*Bill’s tattoo. It’s angled. The scribble line is written to say Bill Denbrough. It’s the size of two fingers and the length of his middle finger. It is located between Richie and Eddie’s tattoos.

*Bev’s tattoo. Beverly Marsh is written in neat little red scrawled letters along the box lines. The size is of two fingers. It’s located just below the neck between his shoulder blades.

*Ben’s tattoo. Instead of birds, it has Ben Hanscom floating away in a cloud of colorful dust. It’s palm sized. It’s located on Stan’s right shoulder.

*Mike’s tattoo. It has Mike Hanlon written on a ribbon that flows between the flowers. This is actually his biggest. It goes from the middle of his fingers to his wrist. It’s located on the middle of his back.

•Each tattoo is Stan’s reminder of who his friends are, who his family is and the six people he loves the most in his life.

•Sometimes if Stan can’t find the words he wants to express the way he’s feeling, he’ll use music.

•Stan doesn’t drink much. One or two is the most. If he drinks more than that, he tends to get flirty and very touchy. And pretty horny.

•Stan likes musicals. He won’t admit he does but he does. He can sing along to most of them (usually his favorites). He also enjoys Disney movies for (most of) the music.

•He can wield a sword as well as shoot a gun and bow & arrows. After the Losers ordeals, he learned to protect himself by fighting back.

•In one verse, Stan is actually a tattoo artist. Still canon divergent but after the first clown incident, he changed and when he left he became a tattoo artist. He’s the one that made Richie, Bill and Eddie’s tattoos and tattooed them himself.

•Stan doesn’t verbally say I love you often. He prefers to show it in the things he does for his loved ones. If he tells you I love you it’s because he does and feels the need to vocalize it.

•Stan won’t sing in front of anyone. Not even the other Losers. He gets shy and embarrassed if anyone hears.

•Stanley would convert his religious beliefs for the one he’s with if they asked him to.

•Stan doesn’t like people touching what’s his. Be it an object or a lover, he hates people touching. Least of all without permission. He’s okay if someone has asked to touch whatever/whoever but not without permission. If you don’t ask his lover for their permission, he’s going to be upset even if he doesn’t say it.

•Stan has actually had a few thoughts/dreams where he’s had a complete meltdown. One that always triggers him into panicking is the Losers having failed in their first battle against Pennywise and he has to watch as It tears each of the Losers apart and devours them slowly. His own death is never what brings him to tears. It’s the whole idea that his only friends and family that he truly loves and adores could be taken from him because he couldn’t save them. Usually if he’s around the others, he dismisses himself to hide away and let it all out. Then he cries a lot and hard and he becomes a total mess. One of few times that Stanley Uris loses his cool and collected disposition.

•Stan suffers from depression and PTSD(because let’s face it, after THAT ordeal, who wouldn’t??). He gets in modes of depression where he does actually inflict self-harm. He chooses to inflict his wounds in spots that he doesn’t think will be caught or seen by any of the other Losers. He has made two actual suicide attempts. One with a bottle of pills (his mother found him and he was brought to the hospital) and once by cutting his wrist (again found by his mother. She freaked out(for obvious reasons) and had him committed for four days). His usual inflicted locations are his upper thighs (hidden by shorts), the underside of his upper arm (usually hidden by his shirt sleeves), hips (below the waistline of his pants), and if he’s in a really dark spot then the side of his neck (really close to his jawline).

•If something comes up (usually when he worried or scared) he’ll grab onto someone’s hand or wrist and just hold onto until whatever has him panicked or freaked out is gone or over with. Sometimes he tucks his face away in their shoulder or neck

•Stan doesn’t say I love you often to people but when he does it’s because he truly loves them and completely trusts them with his life. Rarely does he ever actually say the words “I trust you.” out loud.

•Stan is hard to read as is but sometimes if you check his eyes (that’s where all of his emotions can be read if you’re good at reading how he’s feeling) you’ll know if he dislikes someone or holds hostility towards them. That and the venom and ice in his words.

•While Stan is shy about singing, he will sing while drinking/drunk. He will also serenade people in those moments. (It doesn’t happen often. It’s SUPER rare! Plus he has to be far enough gone (Like nearly blackout drunk) for it to actually happen.)

•Stan is master at Avicii Invector (Nintendo Switch game). He is also a Pokémon Master! He likes playing various games.

•The only way you way you know if Stan is drunk is because he is completely different than he is sober. He’s far more outgoing and boisterous. He is a hardcore flirt (a minx as Eddie so kindly put it) and it’s pretty easy to convince him to get into your bed. On top of that he likes to sing/serenade people and dance. He’s no pro but he is pretty good at dancing.

•Stan is a quiet person. He doesn’t yell or scream (even when he’s upset). It would take a lot for Stan to scream over anything (his nightmare of Pennywise ripping apart and devouring the Losers is one).