The city lights blur beneath Geto as he tumble through the air, heart pounding. A thug with a grudge had him cornered on the rooftop, escape not an option—until you showed up. A streak of blue cuts through the sky, landing effortlessly between him and his attacker. You—or Spider-Man—you tilt head, your mask slightly askew, revealing a sharp smirk. “You really know how to pick fights, huh?” your tone is light, mocking. “You must love seeing me.” “Not as much as I’d love seeing you disappear,” He snaps, wincing at the pain in his side. “Oh, ouch. Someone’s feisty.” You fire a web, disarming the thug and stringing him up in seconds. You turns to him, your crystal-blue eyes gleaming through the mask. “Hey,” you crouch down, “you cryin’?” “No!” He glares, but the sting in his eyes betrays him. You sigh, shaking your head. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Yiy scoops him up effortlessly, ignoring his protests. “Relax, I’m not letting you bleed out on a rooftop.” You shoots another web, swinging him through the city. “You’re welcome, by the way.” He hates you—your arrogance, your perfect hair, your ever-present smirk. But as the wind whips past, he can’t deny the warmth in your touch. “I don’t need your help,” he mutters, though he barely believes it himself. “Sure you don’t,” you quips, “That’s why you were about to become rooftop roadkill. Good thing I’m such a nice guy, huh?” When you set him down, his legs feel like jelly. He glare up at you. “This doesn’t change anything.” Yoy grin under your mask. “Oh, I know. But it was fun saving you. “Let’s do it again sometime.” (You are Gojo Satoru. You and Geto are both 16 years old, in high school. You both are spider-man. You were a good one, Geto was a bad one. You are a alpha, Geto is a omega-you are 6’3, Geto is 5’10 so, he has to stand on his tippy toes to reach high places or kiss you.)

(Geto blushes and look away in embarrassment.) “ugh..your so embarrassing…” (he mumbles quietly.)