"Sonar, huh? That's useful."
"Yeah, well, you can call is extra sense and it's not perfect. Anyway, why aren't you wearing your ice mask?" Ghost Spider asked, gesturing to my face.
I laughed. "Ice mask? Is that what people are calling it now?"
"Hey, it's a good name. I mean, you do wear an ice mask when jumping into a fight, don't you?" She threw a Dorito into the air and caught it with her mouth, grinning.
"Yup! I guess teleportation gave my identity away, huh?" I said, remembering the lizard incident when I used teleportation. She caught on quickly.
"Pretty much," she agreed.
I sat down beside her, feeling a little awkward. "Let's do a proper introduction. I'm Aron. Which by the way, you already know it. I was mumbling back then..." Man, I am babbling like a stupid.
She held out a hand. "I'm Ghost Spider. Nice to meet you, Aron."
I took her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers. "Nice to meet you, Ghost Spider."
"By the way, are you the one busting Hammerhead's operation around the city?" She asked.
"Yup!" I nodded, looking at her.
She smirked, giving me an appreciative look. "Nice work. They were running guns and drugs, along with some other nasty stuff. It's so hard to cover the grounds alone. It's nice to have a hero buddy."
"I do try to help out here and there whenever I can. By the way, what about that Scorpion guy? Any news?" I asked, curious. I saw the news last night, someone caught a sight of a guy in scorpion suit, robbing a bank.
She shook her head. "No. No sign of him since that day, but I've got a feeling he'll turn up soon."
I nodded, my gaze shifting to the city skyline. The city bustled below, sunlight glinting off skyscraper windows, casting long shadows over the streets. Ghost Spider squinted against the brightness, adjusting her hood slightly to shield her eyes.
"So, you saw my face. I wonder how you look under that mask," I said, leaning back on my hands.
"Aren't you the curious one? Showing my face kinda defeats the purpose of a secret identity, doesn't it?" Ghost Spider replied, grinning.
"Didn't you say hero buddy? And I did help you out when we fought the lizard and Rhino together. Come on, I promise I won't tell anyone." I joked.
Ghost Spider chuckled. "I'm pretty sure your girlfriend would want to kill me if she found out I showed my face to you and you fell for my pretty eyes."
"Oh, not to worry. My girlfriends are understanding."
"Girlfriends?! Plural?" She asked in surprise.
"Yes. As in, more than one," I explained with a smirk.
"Wait! More than one? How many?" She asked. I could tell she was curious.
"Just two for now," I answered, smiling at her.
"Ha! Now, you are just bragging," She said with a laugh.
"Am I? So, what about you, Ghost Spider? Boyfriend or girlfriend?" I asked, trying to turn the conversation around.
She shrugged, tossing another Dorito into the air and catching it with her mouth. "Single."
"Really? I mean, your voice is so sweet and you must look beautiful too. I don't get how a pretty girl like you is still single," I said, honestly.
"That's what everyone says when they find out I'm single. I guess I just haven't found the right person yet," She said before flipping up on her arms with her legs up in the air, a perfect handstand.
"Saturday, 2 PM, lunch?" I asked suddenly.
"I hate expensive restaurants..." She flipped back on her legs and stood on the ledge.
"Stan's burger place?" I asked, looking up at her.
She pulled her mask down, "See you there. But just so you know, I won't be easy. You'll need to work for this."
"I do enjoy a good challenge," I replied as she jumped down the rooftop.
She threw weblines and swung off into the distance.
'Hahaha... I am not letting this girl go away. I am going to have a lot of fun with her.'
...
[3rd person POV]
It was nearing noon, and Psylocke sat in her room, her gaze fixed on the clock. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on her desk, betraying her nervousness. She had called Aron earlier, asking for another sparring session. It was a casual invitation—or at least, that's what she told herself.
But now, sitting alone in her room, she couldn't ignore the restless flutter in her chest. She replayed their last encounter in her mind, cringing at her accidental slip and how Aron had teased her.
"Why am I letting him get to me like this?" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. "He's just another teammate... a very good-looking, infuriating teammate." She huffed, standing abruptly and pacing the room.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. "Hey, Betsy, you in there?" came Aron's voice, his tone casual but carrying the faintest hint of mischief.
Psylocke froze for a moment before schooling her features into calmness. 'You've got this, Betsy.' She opened the door, meeting his familiar smirk.
"You're early," she noted, stepping aside to let him in.
He shrugged, his casual confidence filling the space. "I figured I'd give you some extra time to prepare. Last time, I think I caught you off guard."
"Hardly," she replied, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. "If anything, I held back so I wouldn't bruise your ego."
"Is that so?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Then I guess I should be grateful. Ready to back up that talk?"
"Always," she shot back, grabbing her gear and heading toward the training room with him.
[Training room]
Aron stretched lazily while Psylocke adjusted her gloves, stealing occasional glances at him. She tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting to his words from their last session. "Without dreams, we cannot live. You are already living in my dreams." Her cheeks warmed at the memory.
It was kinda cheezy but the way he said it, made it sound so genuine. She had been thinking a lot about it lately, trying to figure out what exactly he meant by that. 'He probably meant as friends or teammates.' She thought. But the more she thought about it, the more confused she got. Aron has Jean and Kitty, they are probably having a blast in the romance and sex department. And then, why is he suddenly hitting on her? It just doesn't make sense.
She sighed in frustration.
'Wait! Why the hell am I thinking about this?! He's just a teammate! He's not interested in me like that, and I'm certainly not interested in him! Yeah, I'm not.' She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. 'I've got to focus. I can't let him distract me like last time.'
"Something on your mind?" Aron asked, noticing her distracted expression.
"Just planning my strategy," she replied smoothly, tightening her gloves.
"Right," he said, stepping onto the mat and adopting a relaxed stance. "How about we make a bet?"
"A bet?" she repeated, curious.
"Yeah," he said with a grin. "The loser has to follow one request from the winner."
"Oh, that's interesting!" She smirked, stepping onto the mat and mirroring his stance. "What kind of requests?"
"Anything within reason," he answered. "Something like... a kiss, for example."
Psylocke's breath caught in her throat, her mind reeling. 'Is he serious? Does he want to kiss me?'
"You serious?" She asked, trying to keep her tone light.
"Of course," Aron said, his eyes locked on hers. "What do you say? Are you afraid you'll lose?"
"I don't think I have to worry about that," she shot back, her competitive streak kicking in. "I've been training you see."
"Well then," he said, his smirk widening. "Let's see what you've got."
...
Psylocke took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves. But Aron's casual confidence and teasing smile were making it harder for her to focus. She shifted her stance, ready to strike.
"Hope you're ready to lose," she said with a sly grin, her purple psychic blade appeared in her hand.
"So, we are using powers this time, huh?" Aron chuckled, flexing his fingers and phasing slightly out of sync with reality. "Well, let's see if you can even keep up."
'What was that?! Did he just flicker?' She wondered.
The sparring match began.
Psylocke lunged first, her blade slicing through the air with precision. Aron dodged effortlessly, his phasing ability making him an elusive target. She pressed forward, feinting left before striking from the right. This time, he countered with a smooth sidestep and grabbed her wrist, attempting to disarm her. She twisted out of his grip, her agility allowing her to flip over his head and land gracefully behind him.
"Not bad," Aron admitted, turning to face her. "But you're going to have to do better than that."
"Don't worry," Psylocke retorted. "I plan to."
She launched a psychic blast in his direction, forcing him to teleport away. He reappeared behind her, but she'd anticipated the move and spun around with a kick aimed at his midsection. He phased just in time, her leg passing harmlessly through him. However, the moment he solidified, she was already on him, her blade aimed for his shoulder.
"Gotcha."
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===
Psylocke's psychic blade came dangerously close to Aron's shoulder before he twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike. His movement was fluid, almost too fast for her to track. She pressed on, her blade humming with psychic energy, the violet light reflecting in her determined eyes.
Aron smirked. "You're relentless. I like that."
"Shut up and fight," Psylocke snapped, her voice a mixture of focus and frustration. She lunged again, her blade sweeping in a wide arc. Aron ducked, his hand grazing the ground as he twisted to avoid her next attack.
Before he could phase again, Psylocke used her telekinesis to yank his leg, disrupting his balance. Aron stumbled but recovered quickly, flipping backward and landing on his feet.
"You're learning," He remarked, his tone carrying a mix of approval and teasing.
Psylocke rolled her eyes. "Don't patronize me." She hurled another psychic blast, aiming to disorient him. Aron vanished, reappearing just behind her. She sensed his presence briefly before his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him.
"Gotcha," he whispered near her ear. She could feel his warm breath on her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.
Psylocke froze for a moment, her heart beating fast. She could feel the strength of his grip, the heat radiating from him, and for a fleeting second, her thoughts betrayed her. He was so close to her and she could feel his body pressing against hers.
'Focus, Betsy! He's toying with you!'
She smirked, tilting her head slightly to meet his gaze. "Think again." Her psychic blade flared to life in her free hand, and she thrust it downward, forcing Aron to let go and phase away.
"Close one," Aron said, his voice laced with humor. "But not close enough."
"Stop running," Psylocke growled, her frustration mounting. She closed the distance between them in an instant, her blade slashing upward. Aron phased just in time, her weapon passing harmlessly through his chest.
She anticipated his next move, spinning and landing a telekinetically charged punch to his ribs as he re-solidified. Aron grunted, stumbling back.
"That all you've got?" He taunted, straightening and rubbing his side.
She raised an eyebrow with a sly smile and said, "Not even close." She threw a hard kick.
"You're holding back," Aron accused, blocking the kick aimed at his shoulder. He could tell, she wasn't putting all her strength.
Psylocke scoffed. "You wish."
He grabbed her leg, attempting to unbalance her, but she used the momentum to twist in midair, landing a clean psychic blast to his chest. Aron was thrown backward, landing hard on the mat.
"Point to me," she said, striding toward him with a triumphant smirk.
Aron lay there for a moment, catching his breath. "Okay, okay," he said, admitting it, propping himself up on his elbows. "Maybe you're better than I thought."
"Well, only 'better'?" she said, stretching out a hand to him to help him up.
He took her hand; his grip was firm, but not overpowering. As he rose, he stepped in closer than he needed to, their faces inches from each other.
"Better," he whispered, lowering his voice to its lowest timbre. "And distracting."
Psylocke's breath caught. She felt the heat between them, his closeness stirring up something she wasn't ready to face. Aron's eyes fell on her lips for a brief second before returning to her gaze.
"Is this part of your plan?" she asked, voice even as her heart hammered inside her chest.
"Maybe," he admitted, his smirk returning. "Is it working?"
She rolled her eyes, stepping back to put some distance between them. "You wish."
Determined to shake off the tension, Psylocke raised her blade again. "Let's finish this."
Aron grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Loser follows the winner's request, remember?"
"Don't get ahead of yourself," she warned, circling him.
The final round was a blur of movement and energy. Psylocke's psychic blade clashed with Aron's phased strikes; the two of them danced in perfect sync. Both were evenly matched; both countered each other's blows with precision.
Psylocke tried to anticipate what he would do next but Aron was always ahead. His teleportation left her on edge.
Finally, she decided to take a risk. She feinted a strike to his left, only to shift her energy into a telekinetic blast aimed at his right.
Caught off guard, Aron stumbled, his balance faltering. Psylocke seized the opportunity, pinning him to the mat with her blade hovering inches from his throat.
"Why aren't you using your full power?" she demanded, her breathing heavy.
Psylocke's psychic blade hovered inches from Aron's throat, its violet glow reflecting in his amused eyes. Despite the precarious situation, he smirked. "You want me to stop holding back?" he asked, his voice smooth and calm.
"Yes," Psylocke snapped, her blade pressing slightly closer. "No games, no teasing. Fight me properly."
Aron chuckled softly, his tone carrying a note of mischief. "If that's what you want." His body shimmered briefly, not with his usual phasing ability but with something more dynamic. Psylocke felt the shift immediately—a familiar hum in the air, one she recognized. Her blade flickered as the energy around them changed, but she didn't waver. She knew what he was doing.
"So, you're using my power," she said coolly, stepping back as Aron rose fluidly to his feet. "Not much of a surprise. You've been collecting mutations all over the school."
"You caught me." Aron gave her a playful grin, extending his hand. Violet energy coalesced into solid form, the familiar glow shaping itself into an unexpected construct—nunchucks. He spun them expertly, the psychic energy leaving trails of light in the air. "But I figured I'd make it more interesting."
Psylocke tilted her head, unimpressed. "Nunchucks? Really? You think flashy tricks are going to throw me off?"
"You tell me." Aron struck, his movements swift and precise. The nunchucks whirled through the air, each strike aimed to disarm or destabilize her. Psylocke raised her blade to block, the psychic constructs colliding with a crackling burst of energy.
The force of his attack surprised her. She stepped back, keeping her stance firm as the nunchucks came at her in a blur of motion. Each swing was calculated, his mastery of the weapon obvious. Aron was fast—too fast for her to counter in close quarters without thinking ahead.
"You've been practicing," she remarked, dodging a swing and parrying the follow-up strike. "Your martial arts is impressive. It's better than the last time."
"I like to dabble," Aron replied, spinning the nunchucks behind his back with flair before launching another strike. "You learn a lot when you have access to everyone's abilities."
She ducked under the swing and rolled forward, coming up behind him. She slashed her blade at his side, but he phased just in time, the psychic edge passing harmlessly through him. He reappeared a few feet away, twirling the nunchucks with a cocky grin.
"You're going to have to do better than that," he taunted.
Psylocke's eyes narrowed. She didn't let his showmanship distract her. Instead, she studied his movements, noticing the way he relied on his phasing to create openings. If she could anticipate his next move, she could exploit it.
"Showoff," she muttered, lunging forward. Her blade struck the nunchucks in a fierce clash, the impact sending a ripple of energy through the air. Aron spun to counter, but Psylocke was ready. She used her telekinesis to grip one end of the nunchucks, yanking them out of his hand.
Aron didn't miss a beat. He phased again, reappearing behind her with another construct in hand—this time, a pair of glowing psychic daggers. Psylocke turned just in time to deflect his attack, their weapons colliding in a brilliant flash of violet light.
"You're predictable," she said, smirking as she pushed him back with a telekinetic blast. "All that power, and you're still relying on tricks."
"Predictable?" Aron echoed, his grin widening. "Maybe I'm just getting started."
He dropped the daggers and spread his hands wide. The air around him shimmered as multiple constructs formed at once—blades, spears, chains, all forged from psychic energy. They floated around him, their movements fluid and synchronized.
Psylocke frowned, tightening her grip on her blade. "So that's your plan? Overwhelm me with quantity?"
"More like give you a taste of your own potential," Aron replied, sending the constructs hurtling toward her. Each weapon moved independently, attacking from different angles. Psylocke deflected the first wave with her blade, but the sheer number forced her to stay on the defensive.
She moved with precision, her telekinesis aiding her as she dodged and countered the relentless assault. One spear grazed her arm, the sharp sting reminding her that Aron wasn't playing around anymore.
"Impressive," she admitted, ducking under a spinning chain and retaliating with a psychic blast that shattered a nearby construct. "But you're just wasting your energy. It's pointless if you can't hit your enemy. And using that many weapons mess up your targeting ability."
"Careful," Aron said, stepping forward and sending another wave of attacks her way. "Overconfidence can be dangerous."
Psylocke didn't reply. Instead, she focused, channeling her energy into a precise strike. She waited for an opening, dodging and parrying until Aron's rhythm faltered for a split second. She seized the moment, unleashing a powerful telekinetic burst that shattered his remaining constructs and knocked him off balance.
Before he could recover, she closed the distance, her blade poised at his chest. "Lesson one," she said, her voice steady despite her heavy breathing. "Don't waste time showing off."
Aron smirked, even as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Lesson two," he said, his tone playful. "Never assume the fight's over."
Before Psylocke could react, Aron phased through her blade, reappearing behind her and wrapping one arm around her waist. In his free hand, another construct formed—a solid psychic chain that coiled around her arm, forcing her to drop her blade.
"Gotcha," he whispered, his voice close to her ear.
They were in the same position again...
Psylocke froze, her heart racing. For a moment, the closeness of his body sent a flicker of heat through her thoughts, but she shoved it aside. With a sharp burst of telekinetic energy, she broke free, flipping backward and landing on her feet. But the ground under her feet froze, and she lost her balance, falling backward.
Aron was there to catch her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She glared up at him, but he merely smirked, leaning in closer. His face was inches from hers, his gaze locked onto her.
"I win," he said simply.
She scoffed. "That's cheating."
"Is it?" He chuckled, his lips curling into a soft smile. "You said you want to see my full power, so I showed you."
Psylocke rolled her eyes, trying not to think about how warm he felt. "Whatever. Let go of me."
Aron released her, stepping back. "Fine, fine. As you wish, my lady."
To his surprise, Psylocke stepped closer almost instantly, kissing him. It was only a light, quick touch of her lips to his, but the sensation was enough to send a wave of heat through her body. He tasted like the sweetest honey; his scent filled her senses, intoxicating. She wanted to do more, to kiss him deeper, to feel his body against hers...but she stopped herself, pulling away.
"Wow!" Aron blinked at her in surprise. "You actually kissed me."
"Wasn't that the deal?" She asked, her tone even as she tried to hide her racing heart. "The winner gets to make the loser do something they want?"
"True," Aron conceded. "But I didn't think you would be so bold."
"I'm full of surprises," she replied, turning on her heels and walking away. "Don't forget that."
"Wait a sec, I never said I want you to kiss me if I win, did I now?" His words made her stop in her tracks.
"Y-You said..." She stuttered.
"I was just giving an example, but it was definitely not what I wanted," His voice was low and husky.
"Eh!" She looked confused for a second and then flustered. Her face turned beet red, and she could feel her heart thumping hard in her chest. "What do you want then?"
----
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AN: Time for Slice of life is over. I will be moving on with the plot. Expect lots of action and MC using full power of Phoenix Force and as some of you requested> He will be using some insane power related of Ice mutation.
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