#peter parker X oc

[shortnspidey]

SLIM PICKINS

Peter Parker X female!reader || WC: 5.7K

SUMMARY: Safe to say your love life was nonexistent. You’d tried everything, swiping through dating apps like it was your part-time job, smiling at strangers on the subway, even letting friends set you up with guys. Still, nothing. Just awkward dates, ghosted messages, and a lingering sense that love might just be a myth. But maybe, just maybe, the problem wasn’t you. Turns out, slim pickins didn’t apply when the best option was right under your nose.

WARNINGS: Established friendship, friends to lovers, idiots in love, angst, fluff, cursing, self-depreciating thoughts, set after the events of Spiderman: Homecoming, Me Before You reference, steamy kiss but no smut!

A/N: About time I wrote something about the man that this blog is named after! Figured I’d combine both with this story, based on the song below! I related a little too much to this, cause let's be so real the dating world is the worst right now! 😭 Hope y’all enjoy!! Divider by @sister-lucifer <3

➩ main masterlist

➩ peter parker masterlist

For you, Valentine’s Day had to be the worst day out of the entire year. Everywhere you turned, couples were practically glued together, gripping hands like the world would end if they let go, feeding each other overpriced chocolates in the park, giggling over heart-shaped lattes like it was the most original thing ever. The city seemed to ooze affection: pink lights in every café window, pop-up flower stands on every corner.

So you did what you did every year, opted out.

No red, no pink, no cheap paper hearts. Just your regular hoodie, headphones in, head down, ready to get through the day like it was any other Friday. That was the plan for tonight too: takeout, a rom-com you’d pretend not to cry over, and your faithful pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream. That was the plan. And you were sticking with it, no matter what. The slam of the lockers nearby snapped you out of your daydream.

You blinked, realizing you’d been standing there too long, caught in your own mental version of a black-and-white breakup montage. You turned toward the sound, already half-expecting to see more heart-shaped nonsense or a couple caught mid-makeout, but it was just your best friend, Peter Parker. He was stuffing books into his backpack like he was late for something, hair a little mussed, sleeves rolled sloppily to his elbows.

He looked like he hadn’t slept much, which, with Peter, wasn’t exactly breaking news, especially not lately, ever since he scored the Stark Internship. You’d noticed the late nights, the new bruises he never explained, the way he sometimes winced when he thought no one was looking. But there was something different about him today. A kind of restless energy buzzing just beneath the surface, like he was waiting for something, or holding something in.

Before you could get too caught up in decoding him, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts. “Sup, loser.” You turned just in time to catch MJ smirking at you, her hands tucked deep into the pockets of her oversized army jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a haphazard bun, earbuds draped carelessly around her neck like a lazy accessory. You couldn’t help the way your mouth twitched into a smile.

MJ had a way of grounding you, dragging you back to earth in the best and most sarcastic ways. You closed your locker with a metallic clunk and slung your backpack over your shoulder, matching her stride as the two of you headed toward the cafeteria. “Any pink-plans later?” MJ snickered, bumping her elbow into yours with just enough force to make you stumble a step. “You know I hate Valentine’s Day as much as you do, Michelle.” You groaned, theatrically.

“Just checking. Can’t have you catching feelings and making me participate in some disgusting heart-themed Pinterest night.” She narrowed her eyes, mock-serious. “Because I will burn it all down.” You held your hands up in mock-surrender. “I believe you,” You laughed, tugging the sleeve of your hoodie over your knuckles. “It’s the worst holiday. Manufactured affection, forced gift-giving, fake declarations of love… hard pass.”

“See, this is why we get along,” MJ smiled hooking her arm around yours. “We’re both deeply cynical with emotionally unavailable tendencies. Can’t forget out motto, expect disappointment and we’ll never be disappointed.” You shrugged. “Actually, I prefer to call it realistic,” You replied, shooting her a grin. “And emotionally self-aware.” MJ raised a brow, amused. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

You pushed open the doors to the cafeteria, immediately greeted by the smell of questionable pizza and the sight of pink streamers crisscrossed along the ceiling like some kind of Valentine's-themed crime scene. Someone was handing out candygrams near the front doors, each one tied with a glittery ribbon and a little plastic rose. You felt your stomach twist at the mere thought.

You noticed Peter had already found a seat by the windows, half-heartedly poking at something on his tray. He looked up just then, as if he felt you looking. His eyes caught yours, wide, doe brown, and tired. But there was something in them. A flicker. You weren’t sure what it meant. MJ followed your gaze, then glanced sideways at you, suspicious. “Please don’t tell me you’re catching feelings for Parker, of all people.”

You scoffed, a little too fast. “What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.” She didn’t look convinced. In fact, she narrowed her eyes in that signature MJ way, like she was two seconds from dissecting your soul under a microscope. At this point, you were pretty sure she could read your mind. The smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth was dangerously knowing. “You’ve got that look.” She stated matter-of-factly.

You folded your arms across your chest, the universal defense mechanism of a person absolutely guilty of something. “What look?” You challenged, raising a brow with as much faux confidence as you could muster. “The maybe-my-best-friend’s-cute look.” She deadpanned, her eyes flicking toward Peter again like she was collecting evidence. “I don’t have a look.” You insisted, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “You do. In fact, it’s happening right now.”

You flushed instantly, heat instantly rising to your cheeks. Your eyes darted away, landing on the nearby vending machine with sudden, exaggerated interest. But MJ wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. Before you could protest further, she looped her arm through yours and practically dragged you toward the lunch table where Ned and Peter were already seated.

Their conversation, coming to a suspiciously abrupt halt the moment you and MJ got within earshot. Peter’s eyes flicked up to meet yours. He straightened a little in his seat, pushing his tray forward like he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Ned looked equally guilty, but less subtle about it. “Y/N! MJ!” Ned called out with a wide grin, waving you both over as if you hadn’t been on a direct path to the table already. You didn’t question it.

You slid into your usual spot across from Peter, MJ settling beside you with her book already reopened like she had better things to do than acknowledge everyone at the table. “Any plans tonight?” Ned asked casually, his tone too light to be anything but bait. “I’ve got a date with Ben and Jerry,” You smirked as you unzipped your bag. “And my bed.” Peter let out a laugh, which seemed to have caught him off guard, because he immediately coughed to cover it up.

Ned, fully aware of your annual anti-Valentine’s crusade, turned to MJ next. “What about you? Anything?” MJ didn’t even glance up from her book. “Why would I want to celebrate a holiday that promotes codependency and glorifies capitalist manipulation through artificial affection and overpriced florals?” You snorted, choking on the sip of water you’d just taken.

Ned nodded solemnly, clearly used to this answer by now, and launched into an explanation of the new Star Wars LEGO set he’d started building, a massive replica of the Millennium Falcon that, according to him, required “Jedi-level precision.”You half-listened, eyes occasionally drifting to Peter, who had been oddly quiet ever since you sat down. You shouldn’t have been surprised, because that’s when MJ struck.

“What about you, Parker?” She drawled, finally looking up, her tone all faux innocence. “Any Valentine’s Day plans we should know about?” You looked over at him just in time to see the tips of his ears turn pink, spreading color across his cheeks. Peter didn’t look up, just stabbed at the contents of his tray like they were suddenly a tactical threat. “Stark internship,” He muttered, shrugging. “Same as usual.”

You tilted your head, studying him a little more closely. That restless energy from earlier hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had doubled. His foot was bouncing under the table. His fingers were tapping an uneven rhythm on the plastic edge of his tray. Something was definitely off. MJ gave you a barely-there glance from behind her book. Just a flick of her eyes. But the message was loud and clear nonetheless.

He’s hiding something.

You engaged in idle conversation with Ned, letting him drag you into a very passionate rant about why Rogue One was the pinnacle of Star Wars cinema. You nodded along, offering a few “totally”s and “yeah, that makes sense”s, but your mind kept drifting. Not because Ned was boring, far from it, but because Peter had gone almost completely silent which was completely unlike him.

Normally he’d be adding sarcastic comments, laughing at Ned’s over-the-top dramatics, maybe even jumping in with a nerdy side tangent of his own. But now? You were lucky to get a grunt, or a tight-lipped smile. One-word contributions. Maybe two, if you were lucky. You wanted to ask what was going on with him, but the shrill screech of the final bell cut through the room. Backpacks zipped. Chairs scraped. People moved like a tide.

You waved goodbye to MJ and Ned, slinging your bag over your shoulder and weaving into the current of students heading to your last class of the day. That’s when you heard it, soft, just behind your shoulder. “Hey.” You turned to find Peter keeping pace beside you, his stride just a little too quick, like he’d hurried to catch up. His hair was ruffled from where he must’ve run a hand through it, and he was fiddling with the strap of his bag, knuckles flexing, fingers twitching.

You’d known him long enough to recognize the signs: Peter Parker was nervous. “What’s up, Pete?” You asked, eyebrows rising slightly, your tone casual even though your heartbeat was beating hard against your chest. He glanced around, eyes flicking to the packed hallway, then back to you. He opened his mouth, closed it, then forced the words out before he could second-guess himself. “D-Do you want to, maybe, go out with me tonight?”

You stopped walking. Hard. If Peter hadn’t gently guided you out of the flow of foot traffic, you might’ve been flattened by the stampede of couples hand-in-hand and girls with teddy bears bigger than their torsos. The contact, his hand on your forearm, steady and warm, sent a current of heat straight through your veins. You blinked at him. “What?” He looked like he might combust on the spot, rubbing the back of his neck, his smile twitchy and nervous.

“I mean, like… you and me. Dinner. Tonight. I thought maybe we could, you know, go out.” Your stomach twisted, not in dread, but in that dizzy, disorienting way when the world shifts without warning. “Did MJ or Ned put you up to this?” You asked, the question out before you could filter it. Your walls were going up fast, automatic. Peter’s face fell for a split second, but he shook his head quickly. “What? No—no, this was my idea. I wanted to do this. I’ve actually been… thinking about it for a while now.”

You studied him, trying to find the punchline, but apparently there wasn’t one. Just Peter, standing there with his wide, hopeful brown doe eyes, flushed ears, and slightly crooked smile that always showed up when he was trying not to panic. He placed both hands gently on your shoulders, grounding you with a reassuring squeeze. “Only if you want to,” He whispered softly. “It’s okay if not. I just… I thought maybe…”

You looked at him, really looked at him and all those pros and cons you’d silently compiled over the last few seconds since he had popped the question suddenly lit up like neon signs in your mind. Pros: he knew you better than anyone. He made you laugh when you didn’t want to. He always saved you a seat, even when he said he wasn’t going to. He looked at you like you were… something more.

Cons? Honestly? You couldn’t think of a single one. Your lips tugged into a small smile, mind already made up, like it was the easiest decision you ever had to make. “It’s a date, Parker.” You watched as his entire face lit up, the tension in his shoulders vanishing like fog in sunlight. “Really?” You nodded once, biting back a grin of your own. And before you could blink, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Soft. Quick. Chaste, but it lingered. Just long enough to make your breath catch in your throat. “I’ll pick you up at five!” He called out, grinning ear to ear, already backing into the crowd. You stood frozen for a moment, students weaving around you, your cheek tingling from where his lips had been pressed. A date. On Valentine’s Day. With your best friend. Who you definitely, totally, absolutely did not have a crush on. Right?

It’s safe to say your closet was a war zone within minutes. Clothes clung to hangers like they were taunting you, while others were flung across your bed, draped over the back of your chair, or pooling on the floor like casualties of indecision. Denim, florals, sweaters, skirts, none of it looked right. Your makeup, usually tucked neatly away in drawers, was now strewn haphazardly across your vanity.

Lipsticks without caps, eyeshadow palettes cracked open, brushes rolling toward the edge like they were trying to make a run for it. You stared at the mess, chest rising and falling a little quicker than normal, fingers twitching uselessly at your sides. This wasn’t supposed to be this hard. It was just Peter. And yet, nothing you owned seemed to fit whatever it was that this night had become.

Anything you imagined yourself wearing was either too formal, too stiff, too casual, too “I tried way too hard,” or worse, “I didn’t try at all.” You held up a red sweater, squinted, then tossed it aside moving onto the next potential piece. You groaned, flopping back on your bed and burying your face in a pile of unfolded laundry. “This is so stupid." You muttered to yourself. But it wasn’t, because despite your best attempts at denial, your heart had been in overdrive ever since that kiss on the cheek.

Your fingers had brushed the spot absentmindedly at least a dozen times since. Now, every time you looked at the clock, a ripple of panic surged through you. You sat up, blowing hair out of your face, and tried again. Eventually, you landed on something simple but flattering, a soft-knit top in your favorite color and a pair of jeans that hugged your curves just right. You didn’t look like you were headed to a gala, but you also didn’t look like someone who was about to binge another rom-com in sweats.

Makeup came next, light, effortless, like you woke up like this even though you'd definitely sweated through at least one hundred outfit meltdowns already. A little mascara and eyeliner, your go-to gloss, and just the tiniest dab of blush to make you look alive. When you finally looked in the mirror, you paused. It was still you. But it was the version of you who, for once, didn’t dread Valentine’s Day.

The you who maybe, just maybe, was looking forward to this.

You were done getting ready by 4:00. Too early, probably. But you couldn’t help it. You re-sprayed a little perfume behind your ears. Lip gloss reapplied twice. By 4:30, you were already perched on the edge of your bed, checking your phone even though there were no new notifications. None at all. You told yourself he’d show up early, maybe even knock on the door at 4:45 just to be polite.

You checked the mirror one more time, tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and tried to act normal. Totally not spiraling. Then it was 5:00. Okay, technically not late. Not everyone was obsessed with punctuality. Maybe he got caught on the subway. Or traffic. Or… whatever Peter usually got caught in. So you cut him some slack. At 5:15, you refreshed your messages for the third time, just in case your phone was glitching.

You checked your ringer, turned it off airplane mode, then turned it back on airplane mode, because that’s what desperate people did when they didn’t want to believe no one was texting them. 5:30. The silence started to feel heavier, the kind of silence that didn’t feel empty, just abandoned. The kind that pressed on your chest, slow and suffocating. 5:45. You peeled off your jacket and let it slump onto your desk chair.

You kept the rest of your outfit on, though. Some stubborn part of you still hoped for the sound of footsteps up the stairs. For a sheepish knock and a “sorry, I got caught up.” 6:00. Your legs had started to go numb from sitting so still. Your phone sat face-up on your bed, taunting you. The city outside your window buzzed with life, laughter echoing from the sidewalks, couples walking hand-in-hand on their way to overpriced dinners.

The world was moving, and you were frozen in place, still waiting on someone who clearly wasn’t coming. By 7:00, your heart sank low into your chest, too exhausted to hold itself up anymore. You let out a breath that felt like it’d been stuck in your ribs for an hour. Your eyes stung, but you blinked fast, forcing the tears back with everything you had. You didn’t want to cry over this, not tonight. Not over him. Still, your throat felt tight as you stood up, walking slowly toward your door.

You reached for the purse you’d hung by the hook hours ago, so sure you’d be needing it, only this time, you quietly placed it back in your closet. Your boots echoed against the floor as you kicked them off one by one. You didn’t bother turning the lights on. You shut off your phone instead, one last look at the blank screen before pressing the button and letting it all fade to black. You peeled off the outfit you’d picked with such careful hope.

The top you thought he might compliment. The jeans you felt just confident enough in. You wiped off your makeup, the mascara smudged slightly beneath your eyes from tears you swore you weren’t going to cry. But you did. You climbed into bed in a hoodie and sweatpants, bundled beneath a blanket like it could protect you from the hurt clawing through your chest. It wasn’t just that he didn’t show. It was Peter who didn’t show. Peter, who knew how hard dating had always been for you.

Who knew how much rejection chipped away at you more than you let on. Who was supposed to be the one person you could trust not to leave you hanging like this. You'd put yourself out there. For him. And he had forgot. Your tears were quiet but steady, slipping down your cheeks and soaking into your pillow. It wasn’t loud sobbing, no, it was that low, ache-deep kind of heartbreak. The kind that made your chest feel hollow and your throat burn and your brain whisper I should’ve known better.

After a few minutes of wallowing in self-pity, you swiped at your cheeks roughly with your sleeve and let out a bitter laugh. “Nope,” You muttered to no one. “Not crying over this. Not again.” You grabbed your laptop from your nightstand and queued up Me Before You. If you were going to cry tonight, it would be over Will Traynor, over Lou in those ridiculous bumblebee tights and her heartbreak in Paris.

That kind of pain made sense. Predictable. Scripted. It wasn’t supposed to feel this personal. You clicked play. And that’s when you heard it. A soft sliding sound, followed by the faintest thud of something landing just inside your room. Your heart jolted. The window. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly turned your head, blanket still pulled up to your chin. And there he was, Spider-Man. Climbing through your window like this was just a casual Friday occurrence.

Red-and-blue suit gleaming in the low light, a plastic bag dangling from one gloved hand. “Spider-Man?” You whispered, half a gasp. Half a question. Your voice cracked under the weight of surprise and disbelief. The white eyes on his mask snapped wide, comically so, like a cartoon. His whole body stiffened like he hadn’t expected you to be there, even though this was your room. “What the hell are you doing in my—”

You stopped.

His shoulders. His posture. The awkward, familiar way he froze like he’d just been caught sneaking in after curfew. Your breath caught. No, it couldn’t be. Something inside you shifted, recognition blooming like something you weren’t supposed to feel. He didn’t answer at first. Just stood there like a kid caught red-handed, one arm still holding the bag, the other halfway raised like he might wave.

You blinked, your stomach churning with something hot and bitter. “Peter Benjamin Parker,” You hissed, voice shaking as you sat up straighter in your bed, blanket clutched like a shield around you. “If that’s you behind that mask, so help me, God—” Silence. Then, his voice, muffled and hesitant, cracked through the air like a confession. “…Y/N, please, I can explain.”

You stared, eyes wide as he tugged the mask back and off his head with one hand still raised, almost like he thought you might throw something. You didn’t. You couldn’t. Not when you were suddenly staring at the boy you’d grown up with, the boy you trusted more than anyone else, standing in front of you in spandex and dried blood. God, you wished you had been wrong.

For a second, just one, your fury wavered. His face was bruised, his lip cracked open and caked with dried blood. His eyes, still soft and impossibly brown, carried this exhausted, haunted look that hadn’t been there a few months ago. Not really. You always assumed he was just overextending himself with school. Or the internship. But now it all made sense. The chronic exhaustion. The sudden strength. The sudden ghosting.

The constant injuries that came with vague excuses. How he’d somehow grown five feet taller overnight. It all just clicked. And yet, it didn’t stop hurting. You tucked your knees to your chest, arms wrapped tight around them, blanket slipping from your shoulders as you fought to keep your voice steady. “Y/N, please,” Peter coaxed softly, stepping forward. “I know it’s a lot to process—” You let out a scoff before you could stop it. “Understatement of the year.” You muttered, not meeting his eyes.

“I swear I was on time. I had everything planned. I even had Mr. Stark get us a reservation at that little Italian place you kept walking by after school, the one with the outdoor string lights and those little lemon desserts you said you wanted to try.” Your chest tightened. “I was on my way,” He rushed on, voice cracking with guilt. “And then this guy, some psycho in this rhino get-up, literally plows through Midtown. Police were nowhere close, and people were getting hurt, and I couldn’t just ignore it.”

He ran a gloved hand down his face, clearly exhausted, clearly frustrated with everything, including himself. “I’m not trying to make excuses,” He added quickly. “I hate that you thought I forgot. I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t a priority tonight. I’m so sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am.” You stayed quiet. Not because you didn’t have anything to say, but because you had too much to say.

You were hurt. Humiliated. Angry. And worst of all, underneath all of it, you understood. That’s what stung the most. You finally looked up at him, face unreadable, voice flat. “It’s fine, Peter.” That made him flinch more than if you’d screamed at him. “It’s not like you owed me anything, anyway.” You gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. His lips parted like he was going to say something, but no words came.

You stood from the bed slowly, brushing past him toward your dresser. “You should go,” You murmured, not looking back. “You probably have another crisis to swing off to, right?” Peter shook his head so fast. “Y/N—” But you weren’t listening. The ache in your chest was suffocating, louder than his voice. Your own thoughts were clawing at you, stupid, stupid, how could you have thought this would be different—

Then, twip, a sudden tension yanked at your hip, and the world tilted. You stumbled, instinctively reaching out, and slammed straight into a broad, solid chest. One you knew by feel alone. Your hands found purchase on the firm muscle of his biceps, fingers digging in harder than you meant to. “Peter, what—?” You started, breath catching, eyes wide. But he didn’t let you finish. “It’s not okay,” He declared firmly, hands gently steadying you by the waist.

His voice was lower now, almost trembling. “It’s not okay because I meant what I said earlier.” You froze under his touch, blinking up at him, still trying to play catch-up as your heart sprinted. “I’ve been working up the courage to ask you out for months,” He swallowed thickly. “I planned everything, the dinner, the reservation, the speech, even the damn gift.” His voice cracked a little at the end. “I had this whole moment in my head. I was going to tell you how I feel tonight. I was going to tell you everything.”

He took a breath and stepped back just enough to gesture to himself, to the red and blue suit clinging to him like second skin. “This. All of it. I was going to explain. Because I didn’t want to lie to you anymore.” Your eyes darted between his face and his suit, your throat suddenly dry, your fingers still curled against the sleeves at his arms like your body didn’t want to let go, even if your mind hadn’t quite caught up.

“Y/N…” He whispered, eyes locked on yours, like he was searching for something in them, hope, maybe, or forgiveness. “You’re my best friend, but…” That pause. That heartbeat of silence. That sentence that shattered you before he could even finish it. “I don’t want to be just your friend anymore.” Your breath stuttered in your chest. And then— “Y/N, I love you.” He didn’t flinch. Didn’t second-guess. “I’ve always loved you.”

The confession was raw. It wasn’t poetic or perfect, it was real. Said with the intensity of someone who had run through hell all night and still showed up because you were the only thing that mattered. Your lips parted. But no sound came out. All the hurt, the disappointment, the unanswered texts, the hours spent alone tonight, none of it erased what he did, or how you felt.

Yet standing there in front of him, seeing the bruises he wore like a badge for a world that didn’t even know his name, and hearing those words… It made the pieces shift. Not fall back into place, but shift, like maybe they could. He took a cautious step forward, his hands rising again to hold you, not demanding, just asking. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” He repeated again, voice so soft it barely reached over the beat of your pulse. “But I swear, I meant every word. I love you.”

You didn’t answer.

Then, slowly, tentatively, your fingers slid from his arms to his chest, right over his racing heart. “Say it again,” You whispered. Peter blinked, surprised. “Please,” You all but begged, eyes stinging. And so he leaned in, forehead brushing yours, breath fanning against your lips like a promise: “I love you.” Your breath hitched at the words. Three of them. So simple, I love you, yet they cracked something wide open from inside you.

You stared at him, your heart hammering like it might tear itself out of your chest. His hands were still at your waist, thumbs stroking gently, grounding you. And then you surged forward. There was no hesitation, no overthinking, just raw emotion igniting like a match finally struck. Your lips met his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was desperate, hungry. All the pent-up frustration, the hurt, the longing, the unspoken tension between you exploding into that one moment.

Your hands flew up to tangle in his curls as his mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting for this, aching for this. Peter groaned softly, the sound muffled as your bodies pressed together, flush with heat. His arms wrapped fully around your waist, holding you to him like you might vanish. You felt the hard muscle beneath the suit, the way his chest heaved as your kiss deepened, mouths moving in perfect sync like you’d been made for each other.

You gasped softly as he walked you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed, forcing you to lay down as he followed hovering above you, mouth never leaving yours, cradling your face in both hands now like you were something precious. Something fragile he’d nearly lost. The kiss softened then, still heated but slower, like he wanted to memorize the shape of your lips with his own.

Your fingers brushed over the bare skin of his jaw, and you shivered from the electricity dancing along your spine. When you finally pulled apart, barely an inch of space between you, your noses brushed, breaths uneven and mingling in the small distance. Peter’s eyes searched yours, glassy and warm and a little wild. “I’ve wanted to do that since freshman year.” He whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

You smiled, thumb tracing the corner of his mouth. “Guess we’re both just as clueless.” He leaned in again, slower this time, like a promise: I’m not going anywhere. And this time, when his lips found yours, it wasn’t rushed. It was everything. Everything you’d waited for. Everything he’d been holding back. It was the kind of kiss that pulled the breath straight from your lungs and made the rest of the world dissolve.

His fingers brushed your jaw with delicate reverence, but the way his mouth moved against yours was anything but tentative. When you parted your lips slightly, whether in a gasp or invitation, you weren’t sure, he didn’t hesitate. His tongue slipped past your lips, tentative at first, like he was asking permission even as your fingers tightened in his curls. The kiss deepened again instantly, a slow heat building in your chest as your tongues met, exploring, tasting, hungry for more.

You let out a soft, involuntary noise against him, half gasp, half moan. You felt him react immediately, one hand sliding from your waist to your lower back, drawing you in closer until your bodies were pressed together from chest to knee. You could feel the tension in him, the restraint, even as he kissed you like he’d been starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. His tongue moved with yours, teasing and coaxing, a little clumsy but oh so Peter, earnest, sweet, passionate.

The kiss was messy, hot, addicting. Your fingers tugged gently at the ends of his hair as his mouth slanted over yours again and again, like he couldn’t get enough. And maybe neither could you. After what felt like hours, breathless, lips tingling and kiss-bitten, you finally parted, foreheads pressed together as you both tried to catch your breath. Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his suit, heart thundering against his chest.

"Kinda leaving me hanging here." Peter huffed, his voice rough with affection as he reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from your flushed face, his knuckles grazing your cheek in a touch so gentle it made your heart stutter. You raised a brow, eyes flicking to the plastic bag now lying abandoned on the edge of your bed. “Is there ice cream in that bag?” Peter blinked like he’d just remembered it existed. “It’s probably melting as we speak.” You grinned, and he smiled back, soft and shy, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

“I love you too, Parker,” You whispered, the words landing between you like a spark catching dry tinder. His whole expression changed, like something sacred had just been handed to him. He leaned down again, lips parted, clearly intent on sealing the moment with another kiss. Only you pressed a finger to his mouth, stopping him with a teasing smirk. “But you’re definitely not off the hook.” His brows lifted in amused surprise.

“I demand a re-do. No interruptions this time. And a lot of Cherry Garcia ice cream to make up for tonight.” Peter laughed, the sound boyish and breathless. “You’ve got yourself a deal, pretty girl.” His voice dropped just slightly, low and fond, as he leaned in close again. “As long as you’ll also do me the honor of being my girlfriend.” You tilted your head, pretending to consider it, even as your lips twitched. “What does that entail?” You asked, faux curiosity laced in your tone.

The smirk that stretched across Peter’s face was positively wicked. His nose brushed against yours as he whispered. “Whatever you want it to.” That was it. You surged up and met his mouth with your own, kissing him again almost as if sealing the deal. His hands cupped your jaw, tilting your head as your mouths moved together with a new urgency, less frantic than before, but somehow deeper. More intimate.

Like now, with everything out in the open, there was nothing left to hold back. His tongue found yours again, slow and sure, as you pulled him closer, your fingers accidentally pressing against the spider emblem on his chest. You gasped when the suit loosened around his torso, revealing the defined lines of his chest and abs. The surprise only held you for a second before you pulled him in again, fingertips skimming eagerly across his skin. The bag with the ice cream lay long forgotten, but you didn’t care. You had something better.

You had him.

And maybe, just maybe, Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be so bad after this.

In fact, it might just become your favorite day of the year.

Thanks for reading! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Feeling generous? Leave a tip!

[aliyahwritings]

INTRODUCTION TO LOSER!READER

loser!reader has school validation issues, she constantly seeks love through grades/scores. she is very empathetic and sensitive to things around her. she has the most beautiful soft long skirts outfits and nails sets (my girl does them herself). she can't do anything without having her grey headphones with stickers on it. oh, have you noticed how she's DIY based? yep.

loser!reader who is obsessed with spider-man and constantly looks him up without knowing it's actually peter parker from science class. she will never admit this but she is attracted to him (spidey) physically and personality wise. she thinks the way he teases officers and is cocky makes him so sexy. she loves video games like resident evil, the last of us and until dawn. she absolutely love playing them to cool down.

loser!reader who's loved by everyone because of how sweet she is for helping those in needs when it comes to homework and tests; she won't give the answers but she'll help.

loser!reader who was raised by her single dad because her mother started a new life with her new boyfriend. she is very happy with her father and wouldn't have it any other way. her father always encourages and teases her to meet new people and "finally" get a boyfriend or girlfriend. she is pansexual.

loser!reader who has nerdy conversations with peter about books and superheroes. she always posts herself with peter on her instagram because she loves showing him off. her signature is definitely long skirts and her curly hair. the people in her classes always admire the way her hair is constantly styled in a different, cute way.

loser!reader is sending a hundred memes to peter in a day and he always answers. he thinks it's adorable how she sends things that remind her of them, him, or just things that made her laugh. he swings her across queens just to have her close to him and panic (mf thinks it's funny).

loser!reader IS A FUN LOSER!!!!! SHE LOVES TO BANTER AND MAKE SNARKY COMMENTS TO HER FRIENDS AND BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!

layout credit to the beautiful @rafecameroninterlude (if u want me to take this down, i understand)

i'll be writing college era peter and reader because ain't no way i'm writing a 15 year old peter... #weird #notintothat #fuckthemkids

[ailoda]

updated: 09.02.25

ᯓ★ angst

The Last Time (❅✧): Peter's on the verge of losing you after disappointing you yet again. (@wokeupinmars)

Not Known Or Seen (❤✧): things between you and Peter change with the seasons.(@luveline) (warning: mention of self-harm with no graphic imagery)

Peter doesn’t want to break up after one fight. (❤✧) (@luveline)

Peter sets the record straight during an argument. (❤✧) (@luveline)

Reader misinterprets Peter's behaviour. (❤❅✧) (@luveline)

Untrustworthy (❤✧): "are you mad at me?", "did you get me bologna sandwiches?" (@literaila)

1 Missed Call (❤❅): after a fight with you, Peter sees a missed call while on patrol. When he listens to your voicemail, the sounds are almost unintelligible... and chill him to the bone. (@liz-allyn) (warning: non-con touching/sa, non-con drugging, graphic violence)

Let Me Go (❅): “Let me go. It’s okay. Let me go.” (@alloftheimaginesblog)

Begin Again (❤❅): you've lived next door to Peter your whole life and the last nine years you've detested him. Now you're going through a breakup and it's nice to know someone's awake with you. Even if it is Peter Parker. (@webslingingslasher)

Only Love Can Hurt Like This (✧) (@stylesparker)

Water Under The Bridge (✧): an accident during a fight gives peter minutes to save you from suffocating waters. (@blushstories)

All My Ghosts (❤✧): Peter’s ghosts know all of his habits, but they don’t know about you. (@spideystevie)

Find You (✧): you get abducted and worry there’s no end in sight. your boyfriend peter parker rescues you. (@luveline)

new! “if youre not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!” (✧) (@webslingingslasher)

[amateurhourfanfics]

SURPRISE VISIT

au!Spiderman x fem!reader - flirting, fluff, cheeky Peter

Summary: Spiderman makes a surprise visit to your office, but somehow, you recognize his voice.

Word Count: 900

Warnings: mild swearing

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

I had landed the best summer internship in the city. At least for me. My dream of being a journalist finally caught a break once I was hired at NYC Beat, the fastest growing online news magazine. They even gave me a little office that wasn’t being used to call my own.

It wasn’t much, but it had giant floor-to-ceiling glass windows on the far wall with the most amazing view of downtown. I found myself getting distracted by it more than I’d like to admit. 

I was working on a new piece about the various New YorK superheroes that have popped up over the past few years. There’s been a huge increase in crime in the city recently, attracting all kinds of fighters and vigilantes to come out of the woodwork. After proofing the article for the second time, I walked over to the glass and stared out over the New York skyline.

I take a deep inhale, enjoying the view. As I let out my breath, the windows EXPLODE.

A red blur tackles me to the ground. Shards of glass rain down around us and I scream as a body covers me from the wave. When I open my eyes seconds later, I realize who’s on top of me. 

Spiderman.

“What the fuck?!” I shriek. 

He scrambles off me, brushing fragments of glass off my shoulders. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” I repeat, staring at him in disbelief. Spiderman just swung through my window. THE Spiderman. 

He’s pulling me to my feet and checking my face for cuts as he lets out a stream of word vomit. “I was trying to get away from some guys and I underestimated how fast I was going and how hard I was gonna hit the wall and I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to–”

Wait. I recognize that voice. 

I grab him by the shoulders to get him to stop talking. “Peter?”

He freezes. “No?”

“Peter Parker? Midtown High School?”

“Who’s that?”

I second guess myself. Could this be him? Maybe I’m imagining it, but Spiderman sounds exactly like this guy I went to highschool with. I hadn’t seen him in years, probably two or three, but I’d recognize that voice anywhere. 

I gape at him, not knowing what to believe. Am I going crazy? Did I go to fucking high school with Spiderman? Peter was a scrawny, nerdy guy who was kind to everyone, including me. We never really talked outside of class but I always thought he was cute. Now I thought he was the asshole who just crashed through my office.  

It couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t.

Both of our heads whip around as we hear yelling and shouts from somewhere on the floor.

Spiderman runs over and locks my door, saying “Shit, they know I’m here.”

“What’s going on?” I ask urgently. “Why are you here? Why did you just crash through my window?!”

“Was there a window there?” he laughs sheepishly. I give him a look that makes him reconsider the jokes. “Sorry, too soon,” he admits as he turns to look outside the huge hole in the wall. The shouting and banging is getting closer.

“Who’s coming after you?”

“Some guys,” he replies. “Some bad, bad guys.”

“That’s really specific!”

He spins around. “Look. Considering the window and the glass everywhere, they’re gonna know I was in here. And they’re not gonna let you go until you tell them where I went.”

“Well, unfortunately I can’t climb down skyscrapers like Spiderman.” How could he have gotten me into such a mess? I was furious and getting increasingly anxious about the ‘bad guys’ that were coming for us. 

He listens at the door, then strides over to me. “Do you trust me?”

“NO!” I shout, backing away. 

“You’ve gotta trust me.”

“You’re a stranger who just busted through my window.”

Someone pounds on the door and a deep male voice yells “Open this door. We know you’re in here! SPIDERMAN!” 

Spiderman holds out his hand, getting a little frantic. “We’ve gotta go, right now. You have to trust me.”

I’m frozen, eyes wide with panic. 

Spiderman rips off his mask. Now I’m frozen with shock.

“Katie, it’s me.” Peter Parker grabs my shoulders and gets right in my eyeline. “Look at me. It’s Peter. You were right. We need to get out of here.”

A blast from somewhere outside the door shakes the whole building. 

Peter takes both of my hands in his. “Do you trust me?,” he repeats. 

I nod my head, at a complete loss for words. He flashes a smile that makes me forget where we are for a second, then puts on the mask. 

Still holding one of my hands, he leads me to the edge of the gaping hole in the wall. We overlook the city from about 50 stories up and I realize what he is planning on doing. 

“Don’t you dare drop me,” I breathe, absolutely terrified of what is about to happen.

Peter squeezes my hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He pulls me into his chest and wraps my arms around his shoulders. “You’re gonna want to hold on.”

“You think?” He just looks at me for a second. Someone starts pounding on the door.

“Katie?”

How does he know my name? “Yeah?”

“You’re still really pretty.” 

Then Spiderman jumps and we fall into the open air.

[skyfallslayer]

The Daughter of The (Dare)Devil - Story 11

|| Matt Murdock x Daughter!OC ||

Series Masterlist || Hiatus Recap

(Please Reread recap if needed)

Summary: Trying to rebuild the many crumbling things in her life, Kaila must keep things civil between her father and his old acquaintances. But during the trial of Castle v State, this might be proven more difficult than ever. (Set During S2E06 - E08, “Regrets Only”, “Semper Fidelis” and “Guilty as Sin”.)

Date: 4/2/25

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 19,514 (My Treat To You Guys)

Warning: The Murdocks Are Stubborn People; Frank's PTSD; Heavy Angst; Heavy Language; Allusions To Mental Illness; Bullet Wounds/Recovery; Implied Child Abuse; Talks of Mental Abuse; Talks of Violence; Talks of Death/Murder; Implied Abandonment Issues; The Murdocks Could Use All The Hugs In The World; Matt Being Overprotective (He Needs A Warning, I think?); Past Toxic Relationship(s); Elektra Could Use A Warning Herself; Suggestive 18+ Themes; Foggy & Karen Being MVPs again. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

- Let me know if I missed anything, please.

A/N: AND I COME BACK FROM THE ASHES!!! And yes, we're going to ignore the fact that I've had writers block on this story for a long time (amongst other issues, personal and computer). I bet this will be your reaction:

Like the DM I answered the other day, I just had surgery done and is on bed rest for a while, so I have no excuse to ignore my older stories anymore -- Not like I wanted to "abandon" this one. I am DETERMINED to finish this up. And thanks to DD:BA, this has really lit the fire back in me to start writing for DD again. Thank you, THANK YOU for your patience, and hopefully this was worth the wait 😄.

Also, on a side note, I decided to update all the aesthetic boards for all the stories. In my opinion, they look SO much better than what I had before. So, feel free to check them out, too. - 'Nother side note, we're getting Dad!Punisher in this because Frank deserves all the love in the world in this fic (and it'll be important later on).

The door swung open and two teenagers stepped inside. The young Murdock trailed behind her guest as she locked the door, watching him take the place in. Her emotions were mixed, and it was brewing in her stomach of nervousness. I mean how long has she been home now? Over a week? Almost a fortnight?

I don’t even know. She swallows. “Uh, d-do you want anything to drink? Or…”

“Oh, uh, n-no. No thanks. Uh…” He chuckles in amusement. “No offense, but when I think of lawyers, I think they have big fancy apartments.” He said, looking back at her.

She smirked, amused too. “Well, when you have your own business it can be a little hard. Especially when they specialize in, uh… ‘charity cases’.”

“Well, I guess as long as you stay true to your own values, it doesn’t matter where you live.”

“True.” Kaila leans against her crutch, watching him walk around the living room. “Although, for Hell’s Kitchen, it was pretty cheap.”

Jayden raises an eyebrow. “How’d you manage that?” And from there, her grin grew on cue just as the infamous billboard flipped on to blind them both. He cussed out of surprise, making her laugh. “Okay. Now, I see.” He said, while covering the side of his face from the light. “I know it’s cheap, but how did your Dad think this was a good idea?” 

“Well, my Dad is blind.”

He blinks. “Your Dad’s blind?” She nods. “Oh… sorry, I didn’t know.”

Kai shrugs. “It’s fine, seriously. We don’t take it personally.” She smiles and looks around, memories flooding in. “I grew up in this place, so it doesn’t really bother me. I just tend to pay no heed to the flashing lights at night.”

“Well, you have a lot more willpower than I do. This would drive me crazy.”

The two of them laughed before being enslaved with silence. A very awkward silence. The Murdock was the first to break eye contact, looking at the corner of the room, racking her brain for things she could say. Like… ‘Sorry I got kidnapped? I know it’s making this awkward’? Eh… maybe not that. What can she say that won’t sound so strange?

He clears his throat, pulling her from her thoughts. “So, uh…” Jayden fiddles with his hands, finally taking her full appearance in. “Did uh… did y-you get hurt?”

Kaila meets his gaze before looking down at her healing leg. “Y-Yeah.” She says, frowning. “Uh, the guy who took me, uh, hurt me after I got a little lippy.”

“Ah. I-I see. Um…” He looks and sounds so uncomfortable being here, and he knows it. “I uh, got your messages–”

“Jayden.” She begins, looking a bit guilty. “I’m so sorry about all those. I know they were quite excessive of me. I… I should have just texted once and been done.”

He shakes his head. “Look, Kaila, you have every right to do what you did. I should be the one apologizing.”

“You don’t have to.” 

“I do.” He pushes, remorsefully. “Look, The whole… kidnapping thing I– I was worried shitless out of mind. Everyone at work was too. And when we heard that you were safe, it was a huge amount of relief for us. We all tried to visit you in the hospital, but you know, it’s–”

“Family only?” She says, getting him to nod.

“Yeah. So when I texted you after hearing you were discharged, you just…” He sighs, his stiff form falling. “You just sounded like… that what just happened to you was a typical Friday. Even our Boss, when you told him you were taking medical leave, said you sounded like it didn’t happen at all.” He shifts on his feet. “I guess I just didn’t know how to respond myself or what to say. I mean, for all I know, you could have just been still processing what just happened. So for that, I’m really, really sorry. I’ve been a shitty friend.”

She suddenly recalls back to the conversation yesterday with her dad -- Everything finally making sense.

.

.

“He’s also probably taken back by how you responded. To him, you might have sounded… too okay with a text. It might have been different if you two would have talked on the phone or face-to face.”

.

.

Ah. So my Dad was right. I did sound too okay. Man, she really wants to slap herself silly right now.

“I… I appreciate the apology, but I don’t think it’s really needed.” Kaila says, raising her hand to stop him from saying something. “Let me finish. I should have been better about expressing myself. It’s a cross I have to bear. I’ve always been terrible at it.”

He frowns, worriedly. “Kaila.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugs again. “Seriously. I mean… I am… getting better, but I’ve been having nightmares about it. I still… have other bad things in my past that are mixing up with this new one and it’s started to take a toll.” 

Sometimes, when she closes her eyes, she’s back at the warehouse with Wesley. Sometimes, she still imagines Fisk at the end of her bed, taunting her for her defensive kill. Sometimes, she still thinks she’s going to wake up and her family is going to pay the price for her sin.

It makes the everlasting knot in her stomach tighten even more.

Her expression deepens as she finishes, “And I’m trying to be strong for everyone else, but I think I’m just fooling myself at this point. I don’t know if I’ll ever be a hundred percent again.”

“That’s the thing, Kaila, No one’s expecting you to be.” Jayden replies, truthfully. “Especially after that. Hell freaking no.”

She chuckles bleakly. “That’s the thing… I… I want to be. But I know I can’t.”

He copies her, messing with his hands again. “No wonder we hit it off, you sound like me.”

She tilts her head. “Do I?”

“Yeah. Um… I told you about my parents, right?” He asks, and she nods. “Well, It was kind of an arranged marriage between them. Dad needed something from her family and it kind of just happened. Uh, he wasn’t a good person, and he wasn’t physically abusive, but–” He shook his head at the memory. “Man, he knew how to get in your head.”

“I’m surprised she actually got out of that. You told me they split, right?”

“Yeah, they did, and I’m actually surprised she did too. But, uh, my point being is, he used to use my Mom’s… flaws against her, and against me. He knew by poking around it would mess me up.”

“That’s…” Kaila scoffs in disbelief. “That’s really disturbing.”

“Yeah. It is.” Jayden agrees. “And just like you, I tried to be okay after they split, you know, be the man of the house, but… I-I knew I wouldn’t, I couldn’t be. I… I knew well enough that I couldn’t be a hundred percent. For anyone or myself. No amount of any kind of healing method can fill me back up.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah. I have to be.” His frown deepens. “And… I find talking about it does help. I’m not saying you have to specifically tell me anything, but from my experience, it is nice to talk about it with someone. Even if you don’t tell them the whole thing, just a little bit helps in the long run.” He averts his gaze. “Sorry if that was a bit of a downer…”

“No, no. I–” She smiles a little. “I think I needed to hear that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I do need to talk to someone about my troubles.” She hugs herself, thinking. “Maybe… maybe I should start going to church like my Dad.”

He cracks a smile, too. “That’s one way to start.”

“Yep.” She feels a bit of weight get taken off her shoulders. “Thanks for saying all that. I know it was probably hard talking about your Dad.”

He waves her off. “Don’t mention it. It’s the least I do for ghosting you, you know?”

She laughs. “Seriously, man, don’t worry about it. We’re still friends, right?”

And that’s when his face fell completely and his body subtly got stiff again. He looked like he was a kicked puppy; Those olive eyes holding an emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

He grips his hands together, nervously. “That’s the thing, I… I think that’s going to be a little difficult.”

Her heart sank as she gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Listen, Kaila. There’s another reason why I was being distant. Probably the real reason.”

Okay, now he’s scaring her (Why can’t she have any nice things?!). “And what’s that?”

“I…” He takes a deep breath as he stands right in front of her. “My name is–” He was suddenly cut off by loud knocking, startling them both. They both stay quiet for a second, puzzled (Nervous?).

“Did you bring anyone else along?” Kaila asked, turning her attention away from the door and back to him. 

“No.” Jayden shakes his head, and locks eyes with her. “You expecting someone?”

“No. And everyone I do know has a key to this place.” Who the heck could be at her door now? But she felt herself grow a bit pale at the possibility of someone else trying to snatch her up again. No… not again. That can’t be possible… right?

Jayden must have seen her face, and went into defensive mode. “I’ll check. Just stay put.” He said, and walked away.

That got her to snap out of it. “Jayden–”

“Relax. I’ll get it.” He ignores her calling his name on repeat, and focuses on the next round of knocking. Carefully, he opens the door slowly to find a woman about eye level with him, sun kissed skin and dashing dark eyes. He almost seemed mysteriously captivated by her appearance; he almost forgot why he opened the door in the first place. “Uh, hello–”

“Hello, young man.” She greeted with an (un)settling smile. “Is the young lady home?” 

He blinks to get out from under her ‘spell’. “Uh, who–?”

“Who’s at the door?” Kaila asked, finally managing to wobble herself over, only to immediately freeze up when seeing who it was.

“Hello.” Elektra said, chippy. 

“Kaila, who’s this?” Jayden asked, looking between the two. The young girl tries to say something, but is quickly cut off.

“I’m her mother.” 

“Mother?” He said, confused. “I thought you told me your mother left you when you were a baby?”

“I did. But we just decided to rekindle. Anywho–” She brushes her way in, pushing and swapping places with him. “Goodbye.” She shuts the door in his face, and turns her attention to the girl who’s backing away. “Hello, little one. Let’s chat.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Foggy nodded in the open air like his girlfriend could magically see it. He hums into his phone, patiently waiting for the coffee machine to fill up his cup. “Yes – Yes – Yes, I’m sorry, Marci. – Yeah. Yeah. Well I got a few things to finish.” He raises an eyebrow at her reply. “Then why are you complaining? You’re stuck at work, too.”

He chuckles, and smiles. “Yes – I’ll make it up to you, I promise – I promise. I will.” He smiles and grabs his cup, taking a minute to let it cool before drinking. “Yes, I will – I will, don’t worry – Awe. Love you, too – Goodnight.”

Oh, Marci. He tells himself, wandering back to his desk. He decided after dropping Kaila off he would go to the office to put together some stuff for the Castle case, which he still wasn’t a hundred percent on board with representing him -- Despite him, you know, saving his Niece. But it was two against one in this law firm and he was the odd man out.

I just don’t want us to get too screwed in this. Especially with freaking Reyes on our asses. But before Foggy could even begin sorting through the paperwork, oddly enough at this late hour, the phone rang.

Shooting straight up in surprise, and double checking what the actual time is on his watch, a million things went through his mind. Who could be calling an attorney at this time at night? 

Getting up from his desk and heading over to Karen’s reception area, he picks it up. “Nelson & Murdock Attorney Firm, Foggy Nelson speaking.” 

‘Huh. So I did call the right place.’

That’s not what I was expecting. And is that a kid? Foggy raises an eyebrow and skeptically asks, “Who is this?” He swears this better not be a prank call. He is not in the mood for one of those tonight.

‘Mr. Nelson, I’m only calling because I don’t have anybody’s personal number. I’m calling because I’m concerned about Kaila.’

“Kaila?” His heart skips a beat. He remembers the last call he got when it was about Kaila -- And it was Brett telling him she was taken away. Oh god, not again, please. 

But he swallows his worries and stays level headed. “Wait… who is this?”

‘I’m Jayden. I’m a friend from work.’

His eyes widened slightly, remembering the name now. Oh, this is THE Jayden! Okay now. But what is he–

‘I was visiting her since I haven’t seen her in a bit. Anyway, as I was leaving a woman was at the door.’

A woman? Karen? He scolds himself. No… wait. Karen is on a date with Matt. So that leaves her out of– 

‘She claimed to be her mother–’ 

His brain short circuited. Wait… what?!

No. That can’t be right. That shouldn’t be right. After fifteen long years Mary decides to crawl out of the rock she’s been hiding under and visits?!

That very thought made his blood boil. Why, that fucking bi–

‘But I remember Kaila telling me that her mother left her when she was young and hasn’t been seen since. The woman told me they recently had rekindled but, I don’t know… something doesn’t feel right. And Kaila looked a little uncomfortable. So–’

“A woman?” Foggy’s heart was in his throat as he nervously held onto the phone cord. “What did she look like?” He swears if he says blue eyes and reddish-brown hair he’s going to–

‘Tall, dark hair and eyes. Had an accent–’

His heart skipped another. Oh, no…

‘I was hoping you would know what’s going on, or maybe you can pass the message onto her dad? Or maybe you know what’s going. Like I said, it just seems a bit weird to me.’

‘Cause it fucking is! But he has to stay calm now. He doesn’t know all the details, he can’t jump straight to panic yet. “Shit… uh, thank you. I will call her Dad, um–” 

Keep it together, Foggy! He mentally slaps himself straight. “W-What was your name again?”

‘It’s Jayden, sir.’

“Well, Jayden, thank you. I’ll take care of it.” Foggy hangs up, maybe a little more forceful than he wanted to be. “Fuck.” He starts frantically grabbing all his belongings as he starts calling up his friend’s number. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt was lazily playing with a strain of her golden hair, while Karen was softly tracing one of his fading scars across his chest. They both couldn’t keep the smiles off their flushed faces.

“You know…” She begins after a while of comforting silence. “I can finally understand the tales of College Playboy Matt Murdock.”

“Oh, yeah?” His grin grows at her cheekiness.

“Mmm, hmm.”

“Well… is that a good thing, Miss Page?”

“It is a very good thing.” She replies, leaning now on his chest.

“Well that’s good.” He brushes her cheek. “I’m glad I can live up to the stories.”

“I’m glad, too.” They lean in for a quick kiss before melting back into his arms. “Can I ask you something? And it’s a bit silly.”

“What is it?” 

She hums, and looks up at him. “When did you… you know, start liking me?”

His eye brows shoot up. “Liking you?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm… yesterday.”

She blinks. “Yesterday.”

“Yep.” He nods. “Definitely yesterday.”

She scoffs playfully. “Yesterday?”

“Oh, yeah.” He hums loudly. “I just… thought I’d kiss you and see if it felt right, you know?”

“Oh, my, god–” Karen shakes her head and picks up a pillow. “You suck!” She laughs, and lightly smacks him with it.

He laughs too. “Ow… you’re hitting a poor defenseless blind man, Miss Page.”

“Defenseless, my ass, Mr. Murdock.” She chuckles, setting her pillow aside.

“I’m kidding.” Matt says, still grinning. “If I’m being honest, I think pretty early on. I think it especially started when you didn’t judge me over the whole thing with how Kai was brought into my life.”

She looks at him all confused. “People judged you on that?”

“Some did.” He shrugs. “But you, you took all the, for the lack of better words, ‘messiness’ in my life and you handled it pretty well. I think what really made me realize I like you is by what you said the other night. Is that you ‘Loved my daughter’. No one I tried having relationships with in the past has ever come close to that.”

“But who couldn’t love your daughter anyway?” Karen asked, truthfully. “She’s a lot like you, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” He nods. “Still can’t decide if that’s going to be a good thing in the long run.” 

“Relax. At the rate she’s going in life, she’s going to be fine. Maybe she’ll be a lawyer? This can be the start of a generational tradition.”

“That’s something I can get behind.” He smiles. “What about you? When did you start liking me?”

“Hmm… yesterday.” She replies, making them both laugh again. “Sorry, I had to.”

“So when was it?”

“It’s…” She groans nervously, her face falling onto his chest for a split second. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Well, when was it?”

“Um…”

“Was it when you thought I was in that car accident and you came for a visit?”

“No.”

“Was it… when my fly was accidentally down that one time?”

She snorts. “What? No.”

“Well, spill it. When was it?”

“I–” She sighs into her hands. “I kind of like you right off the bat.”

“What?” He said, over exaggerated. “Right off the bat?”

“I know…” She mutters, hiding her face.

“So, right as me and Foggy walked into the holding cell, you fell for me.”

“Okay, well maybe a little bit after that. But yeah.”

“Wow.”

“I… I thought you were cute.” She says, propping herself back up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. And…” Her fondness grows. “After I found out that you were Daredevil, that whole situation where you saved me in my apartment really added fuel to the flames. It made me realize how much you’ve done for me, in and out of that mask.”

“I’ll be honest, I’m actually surprised by your answer.” Matt says, honestly. “I really thought it was when we were playing pool at Josie’s a while ago.”

“Oh, my god!” She gasps, her face turning red as she sits up. “Oh, my god.”

“What?” He replies, worriedly.

“I just realized you could hear my heartbeat the whole time. Oh, lord…” Her face grows two shades darker. “My heart was pounding like crazy when I was teaching you how to play.”

“Karen–” He calls her name as he sits up too.

“And I was practically in your face. Oh, my god…”

“Karen–” He says, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Oh, how can I not, Matt!” She says, covering her face. “I want to die right now…”

“Awe, well don’t do that.” He starts kissing her neck. “Who’s going to cuddle with me?”

“Matt! Stop!” She laughs, hitting a sensitive spot.

“Gotcha!” He pulls her back making her yelp, before they start making out again. But their loving moment was cut off when his phone started to ring.

.

[ Foggy ]

[ Foggy ]

[ Foggy ]

.

“Foggy?” Karen said, surprised.

Matt shifts around to where his phone was laying, confused. “That’s weird. He knows we’re on a date.”

“Well, answer it, maybe it’s important.”

“‘Kay.” He does, holding the phone up to his ear. “Hey, Foggy, what’s going on?”

‘I’m sorry, I know you’re on your date with Karen, but you need to get home now!’

Matt doesn’t like the urgency in his tone and sits up straighter. “Why? What’s going on?”

‘Elektra! That’s what’s going on! Apparently Kai’s friend came to talk to her and when he was leaving Elektra was at the door. He called the office because he thought something wasn’t right.’

He felt his stomach tied in knots. “Fuck.” This is seriously happening right now? “Y-You said she’s at home?”

‘Yeah. She is.’

“Shit, shit. I’ll be right there.” He quickly hangs up, gritting his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” Karen asks, worriedly. 

“Elektra.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her name. “She showed up to my house. And Kai’s home alone.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. “I’ll drive you.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

For once in my life, I would like one normal night, please. The young Murdock kept her cool as she watched her unexpected guest walk around her house, looking around the place like it was a museum full of artwork (Maybe to her it really was).

Elektra hums and picks something off one of the open shelves, a picture frame was now in her grasp. “Huh. I can’t believe I missed this.” She looks her way. “Your doing?”

Kaila clenched her jaw, subtly. “My Dad’s actually. Wanted to fill the space up a bit.”

“Well that’s strange.” She sets it down. “The man can’t even see it.”

“Well, he wanted to make the space feel ‘livable’ since, you know–” Kai waves a hand over her own face. “I can see.”

“Hmm. That kind of sounds like him.” Elektra says, and starts walking around again.

This lady… Kaila thought, keeping her guard up while maintaining a straight face. “You know I could call the police. This is technically trespassing.” 

“Oh, you sound like your Father.” Elektra cooed, all amused. “Are you studying to be a lawyer too?”

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point.” The woman’s eyes lit up. “You are just like Matthew.”

The teenager so desperately wanted to roll her eyes right then. “Look, if you’re just here to compare me to my Dad, then you’re going to be here all night. Which I rather you not.”

“So sassy. You got his sharp tongue too.”

“For fuck sakes, lady. What do you want? And if you’re here to wait for my Dad, then you’re shit out of luck. He’s out and about, and probably won’t be back till morning. So…” She gestures to the door. “Get the hell out before I call the police.”

Seriously, one night without any drama would be nice. And wait until her dad hears about this, ‘cause there is NO way she’s leaving this interaction a secret.

“How old are you?” Elektra asked, when she was about a foot away.

Kaila quirks one of her brows up. “Are you just here to play twenty questions with me?” She asks back, skeptical. 

“If that’s what I must do, then yes.”

“Just me?” The teenager confirms and gets a nod. Well if this is what it takes for her to leave, then so be it. “What’s your question?”

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

She seemed taken back by that. “Fifteen?”

“Yep.” Kaila says, watching her face fall a bit.

“So…” Elektra stops to think. “Matthew was in college?”

“About the end of it, yeah.”

“Who’s your mother?”

“Some woman named Mary.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Fling-ish.” Kaila crosses her arms. “Choose wisely, Lady. You have sixteen questions left.”

“Is she still around?” The adult asked.

“No.” Kai slowly smirks after picking up her tone. “You sound kind of jealous. Is this what this interrogation is all about?”

Elektra scoffs and crosses her arms too. “You seem hostile towards me.”

“Well, you did try to kill me.”

“I thought you were an intruder.”

“Kind of like you are right now.”

“Touché.” Elektra hums, and adverts her gaze to look around the room some more.

Kaila exhales through her nose, frowning. “Alright, listen. Elektra, right?”

“Yes.”

“Just cut to the chase. Why are you here? ‘Cause I’m starting to think you came here just to see me and not my Dad after all.”

“Well, you’re right on the money.” She says, with a grin.

“Okay…” The Murdock shrugs. “Spill it then. What do you want with me?”

Elektra stays quiet for a moment, like she was gathering her thoughts up first. “You know your Father and I used to date.” 

“Yeah.” She shrugs again. “He’s told me.”

“So he’s told you all about our little adventures and–”

“Look, if you’re here just to score brownie points with me in an attempt to get back together with him, there’s no chance. He’s told me enough about you, and that he’s been over you for a long time.” Kaila straightens up. “I also know about the whole thing where you tried to get him to be your lawyer to help get your Father’s company back, and how you made a large deposit to the law firm. I know all about it. So, save your breath.”

“Well…” Elektra takes a step forward. “Did you know your Father had a bit of a… ‘bad’ side to him when we dated?”

Kaila rolls her coco eyes now. “If you’re talking about the bit of darkness that’s in him, I’ve seen it. Plenty of times actually. And if you’re saying that to scare me, it’s not going to work either.”

“Wow, he tells you alot.” She tilts her head, perplexed by the teen. “None of this scares you?”

“Lady, please, I have a bit of that in me too.” Then Kai finds herself laughing quietly. “Oh, god– this is insane. Ridiculous!” She points to the exit again. “You’re not scaring me. Get out.”

Elektra smacks her lips, hands coming together. “Did he tell you I found the man who killed his Father?” And that was the first thing that actually caught the young girl off guard tonight, and it must have shown. “So he hasn’t?”

Kaila shakes her head, confused. “Wait. You’re telling me that you’re the one who found out who killed my Grandpa?”

“Roscoe Sweeney.” The adult begins and starts walking around again, this time at a slower pace. “A mobster. A corrupted boxer promoter. He loved to use blackmail on the fighter’s under his thumb. And that includes Battlin’ Jack Murdock.”

“Yeah.” The teenager says, keeping her gaze on her as she walks. “He won the fight against Creel instead of losing, and got killed over it. I know that part.” She frowns. “So you told my Dad it was this Sweeney guy?”

“Oh, I didn’t just tell him, sweetheart.” Elektra’s expression grows more. “I brought him to Matthew.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, yes. I… got a couple hits in.” She sighs blissfully as she begins circling around. “Matthew did too. And he was… oh, so close to finishing him off. I mean–” She chuckles. “I encouraged him to. I even presented a knife to do the job, and–”

“Let me guess, my Dad didn’t kill him? And I’m going to put my bottom dollar on the idea that that’s where you broke it off?” Kaila gets no reply, confirming her theory. “So I’m right on the dot, huh?” She shifts her weight around to fully look at her. “I’m never going to be afraid of my Dad, if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

Elektra looks nervous. “Listen–”

“No, it’s time for you to listen.” Kai pushes and narrows her gaze. “I know my Dad, probably not the whole hundred percent, but I do know him enough. And yeah, there are times that he’s scared me, but not in the ways you’re thinking. That part of him, that little bit of darkness, is never going to change. I accepted that.”

Yeah, it did take a while to accept. This past year and some have been such a roller coaster between her and her father, and she’s learned to finally accept the bad that’s come with the good. No matter what happens, he has been and will always be the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

The girl continues, “But you also need to understand that my Dad has worked his ass off for as long as I can remember. He’s not perfect, but the fact that a… blind man in his 20s suddenly had a baby dropped into his lap, and he still somehow made life work, which should tell you everything about him.”

He told her the story of how she came to be, and it amazes her so many times how he handled the situation. He could have easily given her up in his hard living times, but he didn’t. He made sure he did every in his power to give her the life that he never had growing up.

“Sure, it was rough a few times; Sure, he took a few odd jobs for a few months to make some extra cash; Sure, there were times he had no clue if he was doing something right in raising me, but he did it.” Kaila continues proudly. “He made a life for himself, started his own career, turned people around him into his family, he even had the chance to start changing the city for the best. And if you’re just…”

She scoffs. “Stuck with an image of what you two had. And from what I’m gathering you didn’t sit back and see the rest of him; You just saw what you wanted and that’s it. That’s not on him or anyone else. That’s on you, Lady. Deal with it.”

She might as well be playing with fire at this point, especially all the strength and/or stupidness she had for snapping at this woman; But she’s so hung up on her dad, so desperate to paint him a different way, that if the roles were reversed right now, her father would be saying the same thing.

And I’m not letting anybody bad mouth my dad anymore. The teenager held her breath, realizing how quiet everything had just gotten. Maybe I just–

With a swift kick, her crutches were knocked to the side making her immediately clinging onto the back of the couch; Her injured leg reacting to the sudden pressure. She bites her lip and meets the other woman’s intense gaze -- like the hunter had finally stopped playing with its kill.

Elektra bares her teeth. “You–”

“You need to stay away from my Dad.” Kaila snaps, stinging eyes full of anger. “You need to stay away from him, and you need to stay away from everything he’s worked for. His job, his acquaintances, his friends. Everything. And if you really need legal help, go across the street to Landman & Zack’s, I’m sure they’ll be happy to help you.”

“You have no authority.” 

“Sure hell I do. My Dad has been the happiest he’s been in a long time, and I will not let you ruin it for him. So Stay. The Fuck. Away From Him.”

Before a bigger outlash of some sort could happen, the front door was slammed wide open, causing the whole place to shake. 

“Kai!” Matt shouts, as he runs in at top speed.

“Dad?” Kaila says, surprised. 

“Matthew–” Elektra says, before getting aggressively pinned against the wall by him.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He hissed, as Foggy and Karen surrounded the teenager protectively. 

“Matthew–”

“Answer my question!”

“Just thought I would stop by.” She says, eyes avoiding his face to the others. “Is that Franklin? Finally cut that hair of yours.”

Matt shifts his elbow higher and just underneath her jaw, grabbing her attention again. “Talk.”

Her lips fold out into a straight line. “I told you I needed help, no?”

“You told me over the phone it was over.”

“I lied.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He snaps, irritated. “You’ve been lying since you showed up yesterday. And that ends now. I want to know what you’re doing back here in the city, and why the hell you’re in my house with my daughter?”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t need a lawyer, Matthew. I just need some help from your other job.”

He quickly freezes before tightening that grip. “How the fuck do you know about that?”

“Oh, please. I know who you are because I watch the news. ‘The successful apprehension of Wilson Fisk’.”

“I wear a mask.”

“Well, you can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere.” Elektra grins like it was the best news she saw. “You’ve been working out, by the way. I appreciate that.”

He pushes more. “Who are you actually fighting?”

“The Yakuza.”

“The Yakuza?” Is she being serious? “The Yakuza are a powerful organization with powerful enemies.” Matt gets a hum for a reply. “What do they want with you?”

“I guess I have a way of pissing people off sometimes.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“Come on. Don’t be angry, Matthew.” She tells him in that sweet, seductive voice she tends to use to get her way. “I told you. My money’s planted deeply inside investments with the Roxxon Corporation. And Roxxon has ties to crime.”

“How long have you known that?”

“I didn’t.” Another shrug. “Until the meeting. I stirred the pot a little on the business side. And when I did, who came knocking on my door but the Yakuza. Their mistake, because now, they’re after me. So I need your help.”

“No.” Matt scoffs, which almost sounded like a laugh because it was all just so ridiculous. “Uh-uh. There is no us. This is your problem. Why can’t you just divest your funds from Roxxon and be done with it?”

She sighs. “That’s a coward’s way out. Someone screwed with me. I don’t like that.”

“Then get a lawyer.”

“I thought I did.”

“You fired me for a job I didn’t even take. Call the police.”

“You’re one to talk. ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’.”

“What I do is none of your business, all right? Not anymore.”

“Matthew–”

“Let me tell you what’s gonna happen now.” And he makes sure she’s really listening before continuing, “When I let go, you’re gonna get up and leave. You’re gonna book yourself on the first available flight out of New York and get on it, go back to whatever spa, or resort, or five-star hotel you just came from, and stay out of my city and especially out of my house. If the Yakuza have their sights set on something bigger than your spoiled little rich ass, then I will take care of them.”

“Let me tell you. The Yakuza do have a bigger plan, and I’m not going anywhere.” Elektra says, all high and mighty sounding.

“You can’t fight them.”

“And you can?”

“I drove them out of New York once before.”

She chuckles, amused, “Oh, no, you didn’t. The Yakuza never left. They just hibernated and watched you take out all of their enemies. Now, New York is ripe for the taking, and they plan on getting to the top of the hill first. Well, we’ll scare ‘em back into hibernation. What do you say?” She sticks out her hand. “Partners?”

He only lets go of the hold on her to bat the hand away. “I don’t need a partner. Especially not with you.”

“Yes, you do.” She smiles. “And so do I. Because you have skills. You fight better than anyone I know. But I have information. I gained access to Roxxon’s servers right in front of their little criminal faces. We do it together, we take them down fast and hard. The second it’s done, I’m out of your city. Forever.”

Matt clenches his teeth, trying not to lash out. “The last time I saw you, you put a knife in my hand and asked me to slit Roscoe Sweeney’s throat. I happen to respect human life. Unlike you.”

“Matthew–”

“Get out.”

“Matthew, come on.” She begs, eagerly. “For old time sake. Forget about life for a while. Your job. Give yourself a break from being a father. Let’s drive them out together.”

He scoffs again. “You have… quite a pair on you. This may come as a surprise to you, but I’ve actually moved on in the years since you left. I’m seeing someone now, and I finally have the business I wanted with my best friend; And I have the responsibility of being a parent. Which is why I have zero interest in ever starting anything up with you ever again.”

True. Everything he said was true, which is why she seemed so hurt. She knew he was being truthful.

“Your daughter really was telling the truth.” She said, quietly. Matt says nothing, letting it really sink in. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” She sidesteps around him and starts walking for the exit. “Goodbye, Matthew.”

When she left they all felt like they could breathe when she finally left. It was like a huge weight got pulled from their chests.

“Kai–” Karen begins, squeezing the teenager’s shoulder for attention.

“What happened? Did she do anything to you?” Matt asks, going into protective mode as he is suddenly right by her side.

“She just… wanted to know where I came from.” Kaila replies, truthfully. “I’m okay. Really.”

“You sure?” He pushes.

“Yeah.” Better now that they’re here. “You guys came fast. How?”

“Your friend Jayden called the office.” Foggy replies, catching her by surprise. 

“Jayden did?”

“He called because he thought the interaction between the two of you was weird. And thank god he did.” He sighs, his heart has finally stopped pounding. “Now we gotta meet this kid.”

She smiles. “I’m sure you will. We didn’t exactly finish our conversation.”

“So… are you guys good then?”

“Yeah.” Kaila says, with a nod. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

“Awe, that’s wonderful.” Karen said, happily. 

“Think this one will stick?” Matt asked, happy too, but still a bit weary. 

“Yeah.” Kaila said, confidently. “I think this one will. Unlike past friendships, he wasn’t turned off by the blindness.”

“Hey! That’s great!” Foggy says, clasping his hands together. “I’m liking this kid even better now.”

She laughs. “Yeah…” Then her face falls. “I’m sorry about interrupting your date.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We still had a great time. Right?” Matt asks the blonde.

“Yep. We did.” Karen agrees, just as Foggy plants his hands over the teen’s ears.

“How great of a time?” He teases, causing a bit of blushing between the adults.

“Ew!” Kaila elbows her Uncle. “I can still hear, you know?!”

“Uh, no you can’t.” He shifts his arms around her, and gives her noogie. “Goofball.”

“Hey!”

“So–” His eyes shift back to Matt. “What are you going to do? Are you going to stay the night? Or… I-I mean, I would like to point out, you did kick down the door pretty hard.”

“You kicked the door down?” Kai said, concerned/shocked. 

Matt frowns. “We probably should stay somewhere else tonight. Just in case.”

“Want to stay at my place?” Foggy asked, as he got a smug look.

“Will Marci be okay with us sliding into your bed?”

“Oh, shit. Totally slipped my mind.”

Karen laughs quietly. “Want to just come back over?” 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“You okay?” 

Her voice broke through his thoughts like a knife as he was subconsciously rubbing his knuckles while sitting on the edge of the bed (The achiness of wanting to go out and punch something/someone was nagging at him). Of course his mind was going a mile a minute, of course he was getting sucked into his own head; It was another stupid cross he had to bear. He just…

Sick of all of this.

“Every time I think something’s officially over with, it just crawls back from the dead.” He sighs. “What have I done to deserve some of this? I thought I’ve done enough good, and I thought I’ve made up for some of the bad things. But I guess not.”

“Matt–” Karen starts, as she sinks down next to him.

“Remember the story I told you about how Kai came into my life? How I almost gave her up?” He hears her shake her head. “The first year with her, there were a few times I almost went back to that. I just… I can’t see her, and despite all my other senses, I sometimes didn’t even know why she would start crying; Or if she was hungry, or tired, I just didn’t know. And… I mean Foggy was there, thank god, and so was his family, they were always so helpful, but… I was so lost. I doubted myself. There were so many times I thought, ‘Maybe her life would be better without me there’.”

“Matt…”

“And I was nervous about Mary.” He squeezes his hands together. “Enraged too. Hell, there were a lot of emotions there. And it’s not that I wanted her back in my life, yet… I still feel like she needed to be there in some way, you know?”

He still remembers their fights, the last one being pretty miserable to the point they just said ‘Good Riddance’ and went the other way. 

Karen senses the hatred and plants her hand on top of his. “Who was Mary?” She asks, carefully. 

Matt closes his eyes and takes a sharp breath. “We met when I was in my… ‘party boy era’ so to speak. She was smart, sharp as a tack, quick witted, and very punctual too. She mentioned once her dad had a military background, and drilled it into her head, I guess.” He felt her squeeze his hands to comfort. “She was great… but it was messy from the start. I didn’t listen to my gut, nor Foggy. What really ended it for me was the fact that I felt like I was being interrogated by her; Like she was nitpicking me to find something useful. I don’t know. Then I forgot about her, graduated, got an apartment and then the rest is history.”

“If you didn’t have the best relationship–” She tilted her head, curiosity peaked to the fullest. “Why the feeling about wanting her back?”

“I guess I just wanted Kai to have her mom.” His expression deepens. “I never had a mom growing up, she left when I was a baby, and I never really got the chance to ask my dad about her. Why…” This was so hard to talk about. “Why did she walk out? Was she ever coming back? Or… why did a hardcore Atheist like my father raised to be Catholic like my mother? Why did I do wrong to have both my parents taken from me?”

“Matt–”

“Why did God put the devil inside me? Why must all the bad things come back to me?”

“Don’t.” She takes his hand into hers now. “Don’t put yourself down like this. And you want to know why?” He starts shaking his head, knowing he doesn’t deserve her kind words. “Because despite all these horrible things, you have turned out to be a good man.” He squeezes his eyes shut as she holds him close. “You graduated at the top of your class. You made a friend that thinks of you as his own brother. You got your apartment all on your own. You were given a healthy, beautiful, and happy daughter.”

His mind starts pulling all those memories to the front stage for him to view. The graduation where Foggy’s brother, Theo, nearly plowed them over for a giant hug; Mrs. Nelson’s never ending photos before insisting Matt and her son to come over for a big feast. - Finally having enough money to afford his own apartment. - Foggy and him hitting it off immediately. - When the nurse placed his daughter in his arms for the first time, it became love at first touch. - Despite all the darkness that surrounded his heart, God had given him a few good things over the years. 

He feels Karen’s thumb stroking the back of his hand as she continues her words, 

“You started your own business, you’ve helped people in and out of your suit and tie; You’ve helped me and you gave me a job.” She cracks a soft smile, enough for him to hear. “And deep down, I think even if you didn’t have these abilities, I still firmly believe the day you met me, that you still would have believed me. I still believed that you would have known wrong from right even without your abilities. ‘Cause you–” Touches his chest. “Are a good man, Matthew. Someone I’m proud to have in my life. And I’m sure everyone around you would agree.”

That’s…

That’s all he needed/wanted to hear.

He envelopes her free hand into his and gives her a quick kiss on her forehead. “Thank you.” He mutters, resting his head on her shoulder. “For putting up with my… everything.”

She hums quietly. “Anytime, Matt.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

As soon as they set foot inside the building the very next morning, Matt perked up when he tuned in on something.

“Something’s wrong, Dad?” Kaila asked, trailing a few steps behind him carefully.

“Sounds like there’s someone else other than Foggy is in our office.” 

“Someone… bad?”

“I don’t know. Let’s stay on our toes.” The three of them entered, Matt saying something first. “Early start today, Fog?”

Foggy looked so relieved they’re finally here. “Guys.” He begins, a bit of an annoyance in his undertone for the person sitting across from him. “Uh, this is Christopher Roth. He’s the public defender assigned to the Castle case.”

“The public defender? For Castle?” Karen asked, surprised to find out someone was already placed under Frank’s aid.

The man, Roth, seemed happy that she was here, eager for her to take a seat (which they all did). “I just dropped by to get Miss Page’s signature on this statement.” He shows off the paper to her. “So, um, Miss Page, I drew this up based on your official statement to the police, about the Metro-General shooting.”

Karen pulls it closer to her to read, while Matt was about to say something pushy; But Foggy cuts right in, poking around the man whose presence didn’t sit right with him either. “You new to New York, Mr. Roth?”

Roth blinks, confused, but answers. “Born and raised.”

“Is this your first case?”

“Second. I won my first. Domestic violence. I believe in protecting women.” His last statement seemed to be directed at the blonde who flashed him a strange look.

“That’s nice. Appreciate it.” Kaila said from the far end of the table, observing. 

“Um… who is–”

“Eh, don’t mind her. She’s an intern.” Foggy plays it off, which seemed to confuse him even more.

Karen looks up briefly to say, “Uh, this says that Castle pursued me down the stairwell, but I went down, he went up.”

“Um, okay, that’s a change I can make.” Roth replies, jotting that down on his notepad.

“Also, I didn’t escape on foot, I had a car. I know I told the NYPD about that.”

“Um, car–”

“I was also not Castle’s only target. That’s just flat out wrong.” She says, stunned by what she’s reading. “What about Grotto? Where– Where did you get my statement? 

“Grotto?”

“Grote. Our client, Elliot Grote.” Matt said, like it was obvious.

“Oh, yes, him.” Roth nods. “Yeah, he’s on the victim list. Ballistics matched him to one of the many guns connected to Frank Castle. Look, I just need a signature. Once we’ve got that, we’re all done.”

“Well, with this meeting.” Karen says, as she reads the last of it.

“With this case.”

She paused, along with everyone else in the room. Her eyes meet him again and asks, “How so?”

“Castle’s awake.” He explains, nonchalantly. “Soon, he’ll plead guilty, then it’s open and shut.”

“Open and shut is good. New York will sleep better knowing Frank Castle’s behind bars.” Foggy agrees, with a slow nod. 

“Sleep even better when he’s dead.” Those words rolled off his tongue that made everyone grow quiet yet again.

“Uh, dead?” Matt asks, puzzled; Eyebrow raised as he sits up straighter. 

“Well, lethal injection, probably, although the electric chair is a possibility.”

“New York doesn’t have the death penalty.”

“Yeah, but Delaware does. Some Dogs of Hell were murdered out there along Interstate 95.” Roth points out, suddenly making the whole room feel uncomfortable. “DA Reyes just has to link the killings to Castle, and then they’ll be well within their rights to extradite him. And you know–”

“Are you and DA Reyes friends?” Foggy cuts him off, the annoyance stirring up again. That seemed to make the other party unsettled from the way he shifted in his chair.

“I met her once.”

“When?”

“Yesterday, when the judge assigned me to the case.”

“Of course you did.” Foggy whispers under his breath, while shaking his head.

“Well, look…” Roth looks between them. “She’s the one who took down the Punisher. She’s not going through all these paces so that she can not put the final nail in his coffin.”

Matt scoffs. “Literally.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Roth, I can’t sign this yet.” Karen says, while shoving the paper back his way. 

“Um, A-Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Roth.” Matt says, another way of telling him to get the F out of here now. He does, gathering his things in a sloppy manner and scurry out of there without another word.

“Well, he seems great.” Kaila says, breaking the ice.

Karen stands up from the chair, hands on her stern hips. “Statement he wanted me to sign? Complete work of fiction. Probably handcrafted by Reyes.”

“Totally not disagreeing.” Foggy says, hands up in defense. “We could just write an anonymous letter, and maybe the judge will assign a new public defender.”

Matt shrugs at the idea. “Yeah, or we could help Castle ourselves… like we talked about.”

His eyes widened a smidge. “No way. You guys are still on board with this?”

“Yeah.” The blind man says, Karen nodding with him.

“I was hoping you weren’t…” He mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping you all wake up with a better mind set.”

“We don’t have to ‘full on’ defend him. We could just negotiate a plea deal. Without extradition, or an electric chair. And then, Castle goes away, Reyes gets her ticker-tape parade, everyone wins.”

“Everyone except us.” Foggy frowns, finally standing up. “Look, I know he helped you save Kai’s life, but do you see the front door?” He points at it. “The ‘open’ sign is up, but nobody’s walking in. If we keep messing with Reyes, we’ll be shuttered by the end of the month.”

“Look, I know we’re on a thin thread here, but come on. If we stand up to her, we could actually end her incessant bullying.”

“And possibly save this guy’s life.” Karen chimes in.

“A murderer who shot at you.” Foggy states the obvious. 

“For reasons that I don’t fully understand yet.”

“Roth said Castle’s gonna plead guilty. So we get in there, we talk to him–” Matt starts.

“Ask him some questions about what really happened to his family, why Reyes wants him dead.” Karen continues.

And the brunette finishes with, “Build a fair plea, and show the DA our justice system still has a backbone.”

Foggy takes a second to rub his hands on his face and through his hair that he swears it’s going to turn gray between these two. “This is a bad idea, guys.” He scoffs. “I can’t believe we’re even discussing this! He chained you to a roof, Matt. You, of all people, should know he’s a psychopath.”

Matt frowns, but not disagreeing. “Okay, his methodology is clearly wrong, but in his own kind of way, he was trying to do something noble. I mean, you, Karen and even Kai have been to his house, you have seen his life before. There’s a reason he’s doing all this.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” He asks, then looks between his two friends. “Even you, Karen.”

“Yeah, we understand, Foggy. We really do. But he wanted justice. Like us.” She replies, making him take a deep breath. 

“So we should risk everything? Our firm, our reputation, and– and let’s be honest, our safety? We should put it all on the line to help him?”

Matt shrugs again. “Kinda. Yeah.”

“He’s a person. Like you, Foggy. Like me. Like all of us. And he shouldn’t have to die.” Karen adds, making him throw his head back and sigh.

“Ugh. God, I hate when the two of you tag team me.” He admits, as he gathers his things together. “I guess we’re going to the hospital.”

“Hospital?” Kaila asked, confused.

“We got to interview Frank.” Her father says, also getting his things. “You’re still going to have to come with us. But the police probably won’t let you near his room since you’re a minor.”

The young girl shrugged. “Eh, I can probably hang out in the cafeteria. I don’t mind.”

“It shouldn’t take long. We’ll try to be quick.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After being patted down at the hospital entrance, the trio was run over by camera flashes as reporters nearly bulldozed them over as they stepped out of the elevator. Karen pretends to guide Matt as they follow Foggy up towards the front of the crowd.

“Looks like every outlet in town wants a word with Castle.” She says, getting a little overwhelmed with this many people in one small area. 

“Or a report on who does.” Matt adds, continuing their way until they were stopped by a police officer. 

“You press?”

“Uh, no, attorneys.”

“IDs?”

They flashed their IDs, before the officer waves for them to follow and leads them further down the hallway. 

Foggy slows his steps and comes to stand next to his friends, lowering his voice. “This much spotlight concerns anyone else? I mean, we’re about to step onto a big proscenium stage here.” He throws his hands out dramatically. “And how do I know what proscenium means? Because I did theater in summer camp which is exactly the kind of thing that these reporters will find out if they start digging into me.”

Matt couldn’t help but smirk at his performance. “Come on, jazz hands.”

“What the hell are you three doing here?” Brett’s voice came through, being as ‘cheerful’ as always when interacting with them.

“Brett!” Foggy faces bloomed with a big smile. “You’re wearing a tie, and it’s not a clip-on.”

The cop purses his lips. “This ain’t a good time, Foggy.”

“How’d you get babysitting duty, Sergeant?”

“A Detective Sergeant now.”

“A promotion?” Foggy replies, like he totally did not know about this already. 

“Uh, just lucky.” Brett says, shrugging and averting his gaze somewhere else for a second. “Top dogs like the press of a good collar.”

“Yeah, and the cops that get ‘em.” Karen says, smiling. “Congratulations, Detective.”

“Alright you three, enough sugar coating. This area is restricted beyond this point. You can’t be here.”

“What if we have business with Frank Castle?” Matt replies, getting a look.

“Business?” Brett almost laughs. “Guy’s barely conscious.”

“Our firm wants to represent him.”

“Man’s already got a lawyer.”

Foggy scoffs. “Yeah, we met that benchwarmer. Not the freshest fish the city could’ve drummed up, but he’s in the running.”

Matt clears his throat while readjusting his hold on his cane. “Brett, we feel Nelson and Murdock is better equipped to represent Mr. Castle’s best interests. Certainly over that of his current legal counsel.”

Brett holds his tongue. “Look, I don’t ask questions, but every firm in the city has passed this one by. Must be a reason. You’re chasing the wrong ambulance. DA wants the death penalty.”

Karen nods, before saying, “The public defender is all but ready to roll over and help.”

“They’ll even extradite Castle out of New York if that’s what it takes.” Matt adds.

“So, we thought he’d respond to our strategy of, you know, keeping him alive.” Foggy finishes. 

Brett looks between the three, realizing that they are the definition of ‘Dog with a Bone’. “Come over here.” He sighs, and ushers them over to an empty corner to be more quiet. “Look, none of this is my problem. But all I know is, you go up against this DA and lose? The only funeral to attend will be your firm’s. You’re talkin’ career suicide.”

“If we walk away we’re letting him die.” Matt retaliates, making the other man sigh. 

“Bags and briefcases get searched.” He says, pointing to an empty table with a few cops around. “Do not give Castle anything. Do not take anything from him. Arms up.”

The brunette raises an eyebrow above his glasses. “They already searched us when we came in downstairs.”

“Yeah? And we’re gonna do it again.” Brett quickly pats them down. “Everything’s been removed from inside the room. He’s tied down, but keep your distance and mind the tape. Do not step past it or I get to make my dream come true and arrest you.”

“Understood, Captain.” Foggy says, giving a quick salute.

“Let them check your stuff before going in. Except, Matt–” He stops the man from walking away with the other. “I need to talk to you for a quick second.”

“Okay. Um–” Matt looks at his friends. “I’ll be right there.” They leave, and Matt immediately picks up how nervous Brett suddenly was.

“I’m actually kind of glad you’re here, I was going to come see you before I got roped up into this.”

“What is it?”

“He’s dead.” The words slipped from Brett’s mouth that made Matt almost shutter. 

“What?”

“The man who took Kaila. He’s dead.”

“Dead?” Did he hear that right? “H-How? Are you saying ‘brain dead’, like from his coma?”

“No. Dead, dead.” Brett frowns, almost like it was his fault the man had passed. “When I got wind that he was conscious I sent some guys out to see how conscious, to see if he could actually talk well enough to give us some info on why he took your kid. But when they arrived, he was dead.”

Matt’s heart skipped a beat, and his stomach twisted for an unexplained reason. “Natural causes?”

“I don’t know. They’re investigating it right now. But with this whole Castle thing now, the police department’s mostly focusing on that. Unless this thing starts slowing down, I’m just giving you the heads up that there’s a possibility that this might grow cold. I’m sorry.”

Well that’s not something he wanted to hear today. But, he does appreciate his honesty. “It’s not your fault. Although I want answers, I’m just glad she’s home.”

“Yeah. But–” Brett pats his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find answers. You’re pretty good at that.”

Matt tilts his head, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Nevermind. Enjoy your talk with Castle.”

.

.

.

And he left him with more questions than answers yet again. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Oh, my God.” Karen said upon seeing the man again. I mean, he was pretty bruised when she saw him on the rooftop with Matt, but… Jesus. This way, way worse.

“Uh, the tape.” Foggy said, stopping the three of them from crossing.

“Frank Castle?” The sweetness in her voice finally reached his ears and made him open his half swollen eyes; His hardened gaze falling just a smidge.

“Ah. It’s you.” He croaked, his voice hoarse. “Nice to see you again, Red.”

“Nice to see you again, too.” Matt admits, and his lips curled upwards slightly. “Allow me to introduce myself properly this time. My name is Matthew Murdock. These are my associates, Franklin Nelson and Karen Page.”

Frank chuckled quietly. “Yeah. I know who you are. You protect shitbags… mostly.”

“We came here today to make you an offer.”

“An offer?” Another laugh. “You feel like you owe me, Red?”

“Well, you did help bring my daughter home. But even if you didn’t, we still would like to help you. We don’t need money, we’re not interested in fame or free advertising. Weren’t even assigned to your case. We don’t have to be here.”

“Ah.” He nods and closes his eyes again. “Then go.”

Matt frowns, worriedly at how defeated he sounds. “Look, Frank. Take a quick look around, and you’ll notice we’re the only ones who want to be here and help you. As you may well know, your list of enemies extends well beyond the gangs you’ve killed. You’re very good at making powerful enemies. And the day you were admitted to Metro-General for the round you took to the head, a do-not-resuscitate order was placed on you.”

“And a shoot-to-kill order, just a few days ago.” Foggy points out

“We know, because we heard it be given.” Karen says, frowning. 

“These orders were issued by the District Attorney. And the fact that she’s had it in for us ever since we started asking questions tells us we’re on the right track.” Matt continues, jaw tightening. “Someone in the DA’s office wants you dead, Frank and we’d like to know why. You let us take your case, we can soften your sentence, and give you a shot. Maybe even find out who’s responsible for what happened to you. We’re talking about your life. We can help you keep what’s left of it.”

“Yeah.” Frank scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What’s left. You know what’s left of me, Red. Fucking nothing.”

“But don’t you want answers?” Karen pushes in.

“Karen–” Foggy begins, but she keeps going.

“We want answers too, but none of us will get them if you’re dead.”

“Eh… death’s fine.” Frank mutters. “I could use the sleep.”

“But what about your family? Matt told us you spoke about your family briefly with him. I mean, isn’t this why you started all this? To find out what happened to them?”

“Listen, Blondie–”

“Mr. Castle, we’ve been to your house.”

He froze. “What?”

“Karen–” Foggy warned, just before they all jumped at the sound of someone pounding their fist into the door.

“Who’s in there?” They asked, as a brief, incoherent explanation was passed to her. “What?!” They knocked again. “Open the door! Open–”

Karen grits her teeth and turns up the heat. “Someone is lying about what happened to your family, Mr. Castle. Don’t you want answers?”

But before Frank could reply, DA Reyes came bursting into the room

“You three, out!!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The three of them were ushered out into the hallway, trying their best to ignore the screaming woman until she was right in front of their faces.

“How can we help you, Ms. Reyes?” Matt asked, with a bit of bite.

“Get your things and go.” She demands, as they all shrugged. 

“Uh, we have a little bit of business here left.”

“Frank Castle already has counsel. So, unless you’ve asked the public defender for permission to speak to his client, you are in violation of New York legal ethics.”

“We spoke to the PD this morning. To be honest, he doesn’t seem all that prepared to tackle this case. Although, he did mention the conversation that you had with him yesterday.”

She scoffs. “Matt Murdock, is it?”

“Yeah–” He flashes a shit-eating grin. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“You have a reputation of being a smart man, Mr. Murdock. And since your colleagues seem unable to grasp the hornets’ nest they keep kicking, let me direct this at you.” She puts her hands on her hips. “Leave this ward, leave this man, leave this entire case behind before you wake up six feet under the ash that was your reputation and promising legal career.”

“We have a right to a private conversation with a prospective client.”

“Not if there’s a conflict of interest.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And what conflict is that?”

“Elliot Grote.” She says, looking between the three. “You can’t represent Castle when one of his victims was your former client.”

“Alleged victims.” Foggy corrects, as Reyes gives him a glare.

“All the same.”

“Representing Grotto might have complicated matters, but then again, all evidence of our work with him and our deal with you seems to have disappeared from public record.” Matt points out, as all the color in her face suddenly drained (And his colleagues smile). “It’s almost as if someone didn’t want it known that you violated a wit-pro contract, jeopardized the safety of said witness, and then ordered a shoot-to-kill on Castle.”

“But I guess Ms. Reyes could just confess to that when she files this conflict of interest complaint. We have our case files to back up our story.” Foggy finishes, with a sassy undertone. “How’s your side looking?”

“The fact of the matter is, Ms. Reyes, the only person who shouldn’t be here right now is you.” Matt continues, with a ghost of a smile. “Seeing as it’s a breach of ethics for the prosecuting attorney to communicate with the defendant without his assigned legal counsel present. So, if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to resume convincing Mr. Castle that, unlike his current legal counsel, we can actually help him.”

“You already did.” Brett announced as he came into view.

Reyes’ snapped her head in his direction, eyes wide. “What?”

“Castle doesn’t want the public defender. Says Nelson and Murdock are his lawyers now.”

“Thank you, Detective Sergeant. If you’ll excuse us.” Matt says, holding his hand out. “Foggy, do you have my cane?” His friend quickly scrambled to grab it off the table and handed it over. “Thank you.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Finally feel like we have the upper hand against that woman.” Karen said, as they entered an empty room to regroup. 

“Yeah, she bluffs well, but she’ll negotiate.” Matt sighs with his hands on his hip. “She doesn’t want this going to trial.”

“Of course.” Foggy scoffs, upset. “She wants it to end quickly, so she can move on to burying us.”

“Just deal with one problem at a time.”

“So where are we supposed to start?” Karen asks, as Matt jogs his brain.

“Let’s have the charges and evidence summary brought in here. We can weed through it and work out what terms we want directly with Frank.”

“It’ll save time.” Foggy says, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t believe this is happening.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The three of them (mostly just Karen and Foggy for obvious reasons), had giant piles of paperwork scattered in front of them. By the time they had read through everything, the sun was already starting to set.

“It’s worse than I thought.” Foggy says, breaking the ice first. “Thirty-seven separate murder charges. What about you, Karen?”

“Uh–” She recounts everything in her head for a second, before saying, “98 lesser, I mean, felony assault, burglary, criminal possession of a weapon, reckless endangerment. Any number of criminal mischief charges.”

“And that’s it?” Matt asked, as he took everything in (Maybe they did bite off more than they could chew).

“Yeah.”

“We’re so fucking screwed.” The Nelson said, as he shook his head.

“You guys ready to go in?”

“No. But considering the arraignment in a couple hours, we don’t have much of a choice.” A sigh. “Time to play twenty questions with a killer.”

After getting checked and patted down again, They made their way back inside with the paperwork, ready to go head-to-head with the lunatic. 

“Frank–” Matt begins, as they make their way to the red line again. “Thank you for allowing us to be your attorneys.” Despite the genuine ‘thank you’, his client didn’t say anything. “Uh, Foggy?”

“Right. Um–” Foggy starts reading over his notes. “We’ve reviewed the charges you’re facing. It’s my understanding that you wish to plead guilty to all of them?” Nothing. “Uh, I’m gonna need a verbal confirmation if we’re gonna continue.” Still nothing. He frowns. “Look, you asked us to represent you. In order to do my job–”

“I’m guilty.” Frank croaked, as the wheels started turning in his head.

Foggy looked at his friends who smiled. “Great, uh–”

“I’m not talking to you yet.” 

“Excuse me?”

Frank’s eyes traveled to Karen’s and said, “Blondie?”

“Yes?”

“You said you went to my house?”

She swallows. “Y-Yes?”

“When?”

“Um…” Karen looks at the others who honestly, didn’t know what to say. “T-Two… Two days ago.”

Frank hums, thinking. “So that’s when Red and I duked it out with the Irish. And you also mention ‘we’. Which I’m thinking is–” He gestures to Foggy. “Him. But that also was shortly after the whole thing with…” His trailing off caused the lawyers to look at one another, puzzled and worried.

“Um, Frank?” Matt begins, trying to get a good reading off him. “What are you–”

“I want to talk to your kid, Red.” And that’s how you silence a room with a few words. The father’s eyes widened a bit just as the Uncle exploded.

“Um, Absolutely not!” Foggy said, immediately. “My Niece is not–”

“I want to talk to her.” Frank locks his gaze with the blind man. “You know I won’t hurt her, Red.”

Matt kept his cool and simply asked, “Why do you want to talk to my daughter?”

“Because I know out of everyone here, that fucking Reyes hasn’t touched her yet.” 

“Is that the only reason?”

“Yes.” Lie. Of course the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen could tell. But oddly enough, it sounded like Frank lied for a reason that only he could pick up.

Foggy sighs after a moment of silence and says, “Listen, Mr. Castle–”

“We’ll have to talk to the leading officer here to see if that’s even possible seeing that she’s still a minor.” Matt explains, as he feels his friends’ look of bewilderment on him. “And if it is allowed, my daughter also has to accept it.”

“Then go ask.” Frank said, resting his eyes again. “I got all the time.”

“Alright. I will.” He starts leading them away, but they manage to get between him and the door.

“Matt, are you crazy?” Karen said, in a whisper. “You’re going to leave your daughter alone with him?”

“I thought you had a soft spot for Frank?”

“I-I do! But… there’s a bit of a difference here between me and your kid.”

“Why are you okay with this?” Foggy asked, disappointed. “If I was you, I’d be freaking out right now.”

“I am.” He gets a look. “I am. Trust me. The only reason I’m even considering this is because of his background. I think…” He stops to think. “Karen, didn’t you mention you took a photo from his house?”

“Uh– y-yeah.” She sighs after realizing she didn’t have her bag. “It’s in my purse.”

“Right. Let’s go check that real quick.” They leave the room and retrieve her purse from the police. Hiding it from an outsider’s view she pulls it out. 

“I’m a little confused, Matt. What are we looking at? Or for?”

“If I’m right, then…” He takes a deep breath. “Is his daughter on there?”

“Um, yes.”

“Good. Now, uh, I want you two to get a good look at her.” The two of them spared him another gaze before doing so, it only took a few seconds for him to hear their breaths’ hitch and heart rate spike to confirm what he was thinking. “You see?”

“It makes sense.” Foggy admits in defeat. “Talking to someone who resembles a loved one does make one more comforting.”

“I… I still don’t like it.” Karen replies, saddened. “But I understand. You still okay with this though?”

“If getting him to talk freely involves using my daughter then… I guess we have no choice.” Matt said, still not a hundred percent sold, but this might be their only chance at getting him to speak (Or at least open up to a point of trust). “Hey, Brett?”

“Yeah?” The cop said, turning around at his name.

“I need to run something by you.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Miss Murdock, arms up please.”

Kaila let them pat her down while handing over her crutches and purse, letting all the weight to her good leg like she’s been practicing (PT’s a bitch, but it has been helping). 

“Do not give Castle anything. Do not take anything from him. Understood?” The officer explained, as she nodded. “If your leg starts acting up, we’d place a chair inside, but do not go pass the red tape.”

“Got it.” She muttered, and faced the adults. “Is that all the reports?”

“Uh, yeah. It is.” Karen said, still hesitant to hand it over. 

Matt frowns, nerves starting to grow more. “Kai, you don’t have to–”

“I’ll do it.” The teenager cuts off as she takes the paperwork. 

“Really? You positive?”

“You need answers. You need to build trust. I’ll do it.” Kaila looks at her Dad one last time. “And do not eavesdrop.” He opens his mouth. “Please?”

He sighs quietly. “Alright.” He feels her distrustful stare. “Alright. I cross my heart.”

“Thanks.”

The teenager takes a deep breath before entering on her wobbly feet. Upon entering she saw his dark eyes open, the only part of his body moving with his chest for light breathing. Surprisingly, she wasn’t as scared or uneasy as she thought she would be. Maybe her brain automatically accepted him as soon as he saved her back on the rooftop? Still, she doesn’t sit right away, instead she clings to the back of it, pushing it a bit closer to the red line on the floor. Her brown orbs caught his bruised hand moving and pointed at her.

“Your leg? What happened?” Frank asked, voice still scruffy, but gentle. 

“Uh… I uh, got a little lippy with the guy.” She says, smacking her lips. “I, uh, hot-headed is kind of my curse.”

He laughs dryly. “That makes two of us.”

That got her to crack a smile for a split second before asking, “Um, how… how are you feeling?”

His hum sounds a bit on the edge of a growl. “Shitty. You know all they gave me was an ibuprofen?”

“That’s it?” She frowns. “But aren’t you still a patient? Shouldn’t they give you something stronger?”

“Nah. No nurse or doctor wants to come near me.” He scoffs. “I’m not the fuckin’ Hulk, I can’t break out of these cuffs with one tug.”

His words affected her a lot. Criminal or not, you should still help him.

“I heard you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah.” He nods, slowly. “My family. What do you know? I know you went into my house.”

“I did.” She frowns, guilty. “I apologize if we overstep. We just thought we should know a bit more about you.”

Frank stays quiet for a moment then says, “You know what they’d be saying about me? About all this? How disappointed they must be?”

Her face morphs into a surprise when she realizes who he’s referring to. “Mr. Castle–”

“Have you heard about the Police report? Complaint number 211974.” He continues, his face twisting into something she couldn’t pinpoint. “‘Victims were stopped at a traffic light northbound on Buellton Ave, when an unidentified male suspect began firing a 9mm handgun at their vehicle. Juvenile male, juvenile female, and adult woman were found dead at the scene. Adult male driver was critically wounded and taken to Metro-General’.”

Vehicle– what? She blinks and shakes her head. “That’s… that’s all bullshit. Right?”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘P’, teeth then gritting in disgust. “That’s the story that fuckin’ DA woman is running with. But you and I, and your family out there, know we were at the carousel that day.”

“How much do you remember?” 

“This ain’t about what I remember.”

“But I think it is.” Kaila pushes. “From what my Father and his friends got are a lot of puzzle pieces, but trust me, this moves a lot smoother if you can tell us anything.”

Another pause. “It goes in and out.”

“Yeah?”

“The fact that it fades…” His brows pushed together as he tried to recall the distant memory. “We took our blanket down to our spot. She… my daughter was by the carousel on the lawn. Then I heard her shout. Scream. It was a grown man.”

“Who did you see?”

“I didn’t. But I found out later. The Cartel. Irish. Bikers.”

“Anyone else?”

“I should’ve seen it coming.” He says, almost between a laugh and a cry.

She gives him a worried look and asks, “How could you know?”

“What’d I just say to you?” He locks his dark eyes with hers. “I said that I heard it. I heard it and I didn’t do anything. My job was to keep them safe. I didn’t. I didn’t do it.”

This sounds something like my dad would say. Kaila looks down, trying to figure out what to say to a man who’s lost everything.

“She was never in any danger.” Frank’s voice creeped in and pulled her back.

“What?” Kai asked, confused again. 

Frank’s face and voice had softened up again as he explained, “The other night. Blondie was babysitting that shit brick, running around with that Grotto. I just–” He stutters. “I-I only hurt people that deserve it. I wanted you to know that.”

She tilts her head, trying to show slight empathy for the client she never met. “You think he deserved it? Grotto?”

“I do. You know he used to do hits for the Irish, huh?” He frowns. “One time, he shot an old lady because she saw his face.” He notices the girl’s surprised look again. “I guess he– he didn’t tell your Dad and his colleagues that, huh?” She shakes her head (honestly not sure if he did or not). “Yeah. The point is, Blondie was safe, okay? I just wanted you to know that.”

“Guess I’m just supposed to take your word on that?”

“Nothin’ to do with my word, kid. Nothin’ at all.”

“No?”

“No. Look, you got any idea what a scout sniper is? You ever heard of that?” She shakes her head. “No? Okay, well, you’re looking at one. My class in Quantico was class 307. And we had a motto. It was a saying, yeah? It was, ‘One shot, one kill’. The point is, if I wanted her dead, she’d be dead. Got it?”

“I think I got it.” Kaila said, nodding. This is so bizarre. 

She takes another deep breath, and continues with the questions. “Why… why am I here? Why did you ask me to come talk to you?”

“I don’t–” He swallows. “I guess I’m worried that the memories are just gonna go away.”

He’s not telling me something. What? She scans him subtly head-to-toe while mustering, “Mr. Castle–”

“Look, you…” Frank looked a little lost as he tried to recall distant memories. “You went to... You were in my house. You…”

She gives him a pitiful look. “You never went back? After your family was…?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Can I just ask you, did you–” He bites his lip for a second. “Were you in the kitchen?”

“Yeah. We came through the back door.”

“The plates, were they... Were they on the table, or did they get into the sink?”

“Um–” She starts replaying over her memories now. “Uh, I think, washed. In the rack.”

“How about in the next room, did you… Did you see that piano that was there?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He says, and finally cracks a meaningful smile. “My son, Frank Junior, he… he used to grab a handful of cookies and take ‘em and hide ‘em in that bench. You know, he’d play soldier. Guard it, protect it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kaila asked, smiling, too.

“Then he’d fall asleep down there.” He laughs. “We’d find him, me and the wife… he’d be sleeping on a pile of cookie crumbs.”

“Yeah, I, um, when I was younger, I did the same thing.” Her expression grows at the thought. “Except it was those… animal cookies with the frosting, and, um, I’d hide them under a couch cushion.”

“Oh, yeah?” He said, amused.

“Yeah.” Then she laughed. “But I… I never could really ‘hide’ them. My Father always found out. I guess I could blame his abilities on that.”

“Abilities, huh?”

“Yeah.” Her smile faltered a bit. “Uh, when he was a kid he… pushed an elderly person out of the way, took a hit, got chemicals splashed into his eyes, rest is history.” Then she snickers. “And the dumbass thought he could keep his… ‘nightly activities’ from me.”

He hums, expression still the same. “Sounds like something I would do.” He briefly pauses again. “Kaila, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you come closer?”

“Huh?”

“Can you come closer? Please?”

Her eyes stayed on him briefly before migrating down to the tape on the floor. She knows she shouldn’t, she knows she could be arrested if the cops walked in and saw her crossing. Yet, just by talking to him, just by knowing his past, and despite the massive criminal record he’s painted himself, she knows deep down he would do anything to her if he could. 

Holding the paperwork under one of her arms, she uses the free one to help her balance. She circles the hospital bed on a slight wobble, her hand stopping a few inches from his as she meets his eyes once again. Frank studied her face for a long time, enough for his features to soften again, but there was the smallest speck of tears in his dark orbs.

“You look like my daughter. Brown eyes, hair…” He swallows and tries to get the scratchiness out of voice. “How old are you, Kaila?”

“Fifteen.” 

“Fifteen.” He whispers, laughing quietly. “Not much older than she was.”

“Is that why you choose to help save me? ‘Cause I look like your daughter?”

“Nah. I mean, I saw your picture in the news, it sparked something in me, but…” He smacks his lips with a small inhale. “You’ll never understand the love a parent has for the child until you have one of your own. I saw that with your Dad when I met him.”

“Is that before or after you shot him?”

Frank snorts, looking away. “Yeah, sorry about that. He was on my ass, you know?”

“Don’t be.” She smirks a bit. “He’s definitely persistent.”

“Aren’t we all? Nah, it was when he came after me the second time. He put up one hell of a fight, and managed to keep me on my toes for a bit. But I got the upper hand. Again.” He inhales again, and says, “Now, I ain’t going to sugarcoat it for you, but I was planning on killing him after I shot up the bar full of cartel members. I knew… if I didn’t, he would just keep coming after me.”

Kaila looks away, not sure how to feel about this as he continues, “But…” She looks up and so does he, sharing eye contact briefly before his shifts to a corner of the room. “We started getting into it, I spewed my reasoning, he spewed his Catholic guilt bullshit, but every time we got somewhere, his phone would ring. Do you have a clue what those were?”

She frowns, and nods. “I can… only imagine.”

“Yeah, well…” He sighs. “I just wanted to get into his head, get him preoccupied with some other shit so I could do my job, so I played those voicemails left by his colleague and threw it in his lap. I never expected the outcome of it.”

Kaila felt her chest get tighter. She still feels guilty about their fight, and wishes they were on better terms when the kidnapping happened. Dad… I can only imagine what that was like for you.

“You see his whole demeanor changed.” Frank says, eyes still trained on the corner. “He shut up so fast. Even with that stupid mask on you could see how haunted he looked. And then you know what he did when the message ended?” His jaw tightens visibly. “He started begging. Begging for me to let him go and find you.” He scoffs quietly, eyes watering over again. “You see… I know that fear.”

He turns his head and locks their gazes together once more. “I know that feeling.” He could see the sorrow in her eyes, all just for him. “When Lisa, my daughter, was about three we went to this market. You know, fresh fruit, handmade blankets, exotic soap, stuff I hated, but my Wife loved it, so I went. We stopped at a booth, I didn’t even realize she let go of my hand, but I blinked and she was gone.”

Frank knows she could see the panic in his orbs, but he couldn’t care now; He’s been unraveling for a while already. What harm could come from more? “We panicked. I was worse than my wife, though. I was hysterical, I was yelling, nearly knocking people over, and I was fearing the worst. Did someone snatch up my girl? Out of everyone here, why my baby? After what felt like years, I finally found her. She snuck off to a booth that had these dolls and she was just sitting there, trying to find one she liked. God…” He lowers his head with a bit of shutter. “I think I might have had a heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry.” Kaila said, truthfully. “I didn’t want you to remember that.”

“Nah, it’s alright.” He sighs again, more quietly this time. “But that’s what I saw in your Father. His whole world was just… crushed by a single voicemail. That’s why I let him go, that’s why I helped him find you, because I didn’t want him to go through what I did. ‘Cause you know, we’re the fathers, nothing should happen to our family. Everything should happen to us, and not them.”

“So that’s why you became the… Punisher. Your whole world fell, and you felt like you had nothing to lose?”

“Yep. I have nothin’ to lose.”

“But don’t you want to live? Or, better question, is killing not giving you peace yet?”

“Nah.” He looks at the corner of the room again. “No peace yet. I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t killed the right person yet. Maybe there is no peace, maybe when I finally kill the right person it’ll feel different. I don’t fuckin’ know. Not like you get it.”

“I do.”

And those words slipped out before they could even register with her brain. And she knows there’s a chance, a very small chance that her dad is actually eavesdropping on their conversation and he could hear this, but she knows she can’t stop now; Those two words couldn’t just be said and done, there has to be a follow up.

She finds herself looking at her feet, feeling the tightening in her chest return as she feels his intense gaze on her. But still, she refuses to look at him right now. 

She takes a deep breath, and begins, “Um, Fisk– uh, Wilson Fisk, you’ve probably heard of him, uh, he and my Dad got entangled with each other. Being Daredevil helped bring Fisk down a few pegs, but Nelson & Murdock they stepped in did the big final attack. They had enough evidence to put him behind bars, but…”

She needs to stop, stop before she spills too much; But Jayden’s voice nagged her in the background, telling her that it’ll help the pain to talk about her troubles instead of bottling them up. She agrees wholeheartedly. She just didn’t think this was going to the first person she talked to.

Kaila shifts her weight, continuing, “B-Before that, they were doing some digging, my Dad and I got into a bit of an argument, and I wanted some space so I went to Karen’s, uh–” She gestures to the door behind her. “Blondie’s. Before I got there I, uh, one of uh, Fisk’s right hand man snagged me. Apparently, he was going to grab Karen after she dug up evidence about Fisk’s mother, but I just happened to arrive first so…”

She felt her stomach now coil, nausea was coming up as the memory of Wesley slowly was creeping in. “He… was trying to blackmail me into changing the minds of everyone around me, to, uh, tell everyone and make them believe that Fisk was a good man. I refused. But then he told me I didn’t, he killed everyone I love, and make me watch… and then it would be my turn.”

Is she crying yet? Has the tears started flowing down without her noticing yet? “Before I could answer, the drug had worn off, and I just grabbed the gun on the table. I didn’t even know if it was loaded or not, but I needed leverage, you know? I told him I was going to leave, and he was going to let me, and I was going to keep this quiet for the sake of my family’s safety. I was almost free, but he just lunged at me.”

Sometimes she could still feel his hands around her throat as he threatened to throw her corpse into the Hudson (It makes her forget how to breathe sometimes). “We wrestled around, soon the gun was being passed back and forth, and…” She felt that lump in her throat now, the one she felt after she did it. “I-I didn’t mean to. It just happened. I…” Now it was her turn to laugh quietly. “I know it’s self defense but I… I still killed someone. You know?”

God, now she feels like she needs a shower all over again. A hot, burning one like she took when she arrived at Karen’s. She wants to burn his touch off, she wants to burn her sins away. She could feel her eyes stinging now, not really sure how long she stayed quiet until he started speaking again.

“Sweetheart.” His voice broke through, causing her to look his way. To her surprise there was no disgust on his face, only sadness and a tiny, tiny bit of anger that if you blink you would miss. “H-How… how’d you feel? After you did it?”

Kaila sniffles. “Um, sc-scared. I was scared, because… I knew if Fisk found out what I did to Wesley, to his friend, his genuine friend, I don’t know what he would have done… to me or my family. And…” She bites her lip. “Oh, god. If my Dad knew, I… I…”

“You mean…” Frank tries to find the right words. “No one knows?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Well… K-Karen does, but I… I kind of have her sworn to secrecy right now. I just…” Another sniffle. “I just can’t let my Dad know…”

“Why not?” He asks, a little bit of a growl in his tone, but it wasn’t towards her; Just the situation. “If my daughter came up to me and told me she was kidnapped by a dangerous man, you bet your ass I would be hunting that motherfucker down. I’d be storming that building that Fisk was in and I wouldn’t stop until the job was done–”

“That’s exactly why I can’t tell him.” Kaila replies, with a bit of snappiness. She watches him deflate under her words and she carefully explains, “I’m selfish. I’m really selfish. ‘Cause I know if I told him the truth, a few things could happen. He could kill Fisk and get caught, and put away, and that means I lost my Dad to the prison system. Or, he could kill him and never get caught, but I have to live with that guilt that I killed another man, bad or not. So would my Dad. Or…” She feels the tears rolling down her cheeks. “My Dad ends up dead trying.”

She could feel he was looking at her with the same expression from earlier again, but refuses to look. “So, you see? I don’t want to lose my Dad. Physically or mentally. I don’t want to lose the one I have. I don’t want to lose him over something I did. So… you see? I’m selfish. I’m really fucking selfish.”

There was another pause, only this time she pulled herself out of it; Wiping her tears as she apologized for being a debbie-downer (So much for helping him through his trauma). 

Way to go, Murdock. You fucked this up. She continues to beat herself up, wondering if she should just turn around and ditch. But then… she felt him touch her hand. Her head snapped back his way, and sure enough that expression was back on his face.

“Don’t cry.” He croaked, and even though his voice was rough sounding, she could hear the consideration that went into those two words. “I don’t like it when my kids cry. I don’t like it when any kids cry.”

“S-Sorry…” Kaila says, brushing her eyes again as a few tears got loose. 

“Don’t be. Never apologize for that.” He replies, and squeezes her hand gently. His eyes stayed on her face for a few seconds more before trailing to the paperwork she had. “I, uh, see that they gave you questions to ask me.”

“Oh.” She nods, almost forgetting what she was actually here for. “I guess I probably should start on those.”

“Yeah?” A little warm smile creeps onto his busted lips. “If you wanna ask your questions, you can go ahead. Whatever’s on the paper, and whatever personal ones you want to ask. I’m all ears, sweetheart.”

And without more being said there…

Kaila sits on the bed, and slowly starts from the beginning.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It was really, really hard for Matt not to eavesdrop. He wants to. He really, really fucking wants to, but he needs to be better by respecting certain bountries; Especially his daughter’s. But he’s still going to be a worrier. Now, he knew Frank wouldn’t do anything even if he wasn’t strapped to the bed, and that was where the bit of trust was. Well… it’s more of a respect for the man. However, even with that respect it still wasn’t enough to keep the jitters away. 

He was standing out in the hallway with Karen and Foggy, his right foot pattering like a rabbit’s foot, his fingers twitching at his side. It felt like every few minutes his hand would move to his left wrist, his thumb pad running across the braille clock to tell him the time.

Two hours. My daughter’s been in there for nearly two hours. It was making him nervous now. I mean, when it hit the hour mark it was already making him nervous, but two?! It’s literally taking all of his strength not to barge in there. So he tries to focus on something else… like Foggy’s sharp inhales while he leans against the wall, or Karen small pivots on her heels, or the sounds of reporters getting escorted out, or the beeping of a police’s walkie, or–

“I can’t take this anymore.” Matt finally says, as his friend’s look his way.

“Matt.” Foggy begins, sliding his back up the wall to stand. “You promise not to eavesdrop.” 

“I’m not going to.” He shakes his head. “I gotta get inside.”

“Matt– wait.”

“You can’t go in yet.” Karen says, stopping him with her arm. “Look, I know it’s been a long time–”

“Exactly.” The blind man says, getting even more agitated. “Two hours. Two hours, Karen. Why is she in there that long? I mean, I know we gave her a lot of questions to ask, but why–”

Suddenly the door to his room opened, and the teenager came wandering out with the stack of paper and her own notes. The trio took a quick glance at each other before surrounding her with questions.

“What happened?/You okay?/What took so long?”

Matt’s nose picks up the salt on her skin, the dryness in her eyes and frowns. “Kai? What happened?” He asks, worriedly.

She nods slowly, trying to find her words. “I’m okay.” Truth. “Really. I just… we shared a lot… personally, so…” Truth. She cracks a small smile while holding up the notes. “I got a lot of information back.” She hands it to Karen, who quickly reads it over. “Hope that helps.”

“Kaila, this is… amazing.” The blonde says, as she tilts the pages towards Foggy for him to read. “It wasn’t too uncomfortable?” 

“It was at the beginning, but–” She shrugs. “Despite the certain level of unhinge-ness, he’s actually a really nice guy. He’s definitely someone that loved his family with all his heart.”

“That’s good to hear.” Matt said, finally letting go of the breath he was holding. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Kaila hums. “You worry too much.”

“I worry not enough.” He pulls her in for a side hug which she immediately melted into. 

“So, you gave him our opinions on how the case should go?” Foggy asks, looking away from the notes to the teen. “How is he pleading? Is it still the same?”

Kaila takes a deep breath and says, “Guilty.” Her response made everyone happy and congratulated her. Her smile grows at the compliments. “So, when’s the hearing?”

“It’s not even mid-day yet, so…” He looks over his watch. “We could get this started?” His friends nod their heads as he begins flagging the detective down. “Hey, Brett! Can I have a minute?”

“I’m not even appropriately dressed for court.” Kaila mumbles, looking down at herself.

“Well, if we have time, I can swing by my place. I think there’s a dress you can fit into.” Karen replies, after fast thinking. “It’s a dark green color if that works.”

“Yeah, I’ll take anything that’s not a hoodie and ripped jeans right now.”

“That’s very nice of you, Karen.” Matt said, showing his pearly whites.

“You know me.” She chuckles. “I try.” 

“Guys–” Foggy says, getting their attention. He gives them a thumbs up. “We’re good. In a few hours everything should be A-Okay.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It was definitely NOT A-Okay.

You could hear a pin drop all of a sudden in the courtroom. Behind the defendant’s bench, Kaila stared with her big brown eyes as her father’s client repeated the words he was NOT supposed to be saying. Pinch me, I’m dreaming. Pinch me, I’m dreaming. Pinch me–

“I plead not guilty.” Frank says once more, as everyone starts muttering in the room with disbelief. “You hear that, witch?!” His eyes blow wide with rage. “I’m gonna watch you burn right along with me. You hear me?!”

The judge’s gavel hits down on his desk immediately. “Counselor, please control your client.”

“Do you hear me?!”

“Frank…” Kaila whispers, as her father gets up to his feet with an apologetic look. 

“I’m sorry, Your Honor.” Matt says, bowing his head in shame as Frank came down off his rage tangent. 

The judge narrows her eyes, looking between the room as she says, “The defendant has entered a plea of not guilty. Due to the nature and severity of the crimes he is accused of, bail is denied. A court date will be set upon consultation with the DA’s office. We are adjourned.”

The gavel hits again, and everyone in the room starts leaving; While officers in groups of two came over a re-shackled Frank before taking him away.

“I thought you said he was fine?” Foggy said, turning around to his Niece. 

“H-He was.” Kaila said, still in shock. “He promised me he was going to plead guilty.”

“Then what the fuck changed his mind?”

“M-Maybe he just wants the truth. About Grotto, about his family, about the– the cover-up. I mean, if we go to trial, then it all comes out, right?”

“There’s no ‘if’. This is happening. Trial of the century. Everything’s about to change.” He grunts. “Fuck.”

As Karen tries to calm Foggy down, Matt had come over to sit next to his kid. He could practically feel the guilt pooling off of her. 

“It’s not your fault.” He says, as she shakes her head.

“How did this happen?” She whispers. “W-We had such a good talk, Dad.”

“Kaila–”

“Do you think Reyes got to him during the transportation? Or somebody else?”

He frowns. “I don’t know, but… he seemed a lot more angry today. Nervous, too.”

“That’s an odd combo.”

“Yeah.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He heard her sigh again, muttering an ‘ok’. His heart aches at how defeated she sounds. “Come here.” He pulls her in for a much needed hug. “Everything will be okay.”

“Dad…” She says, relaxing in his embrace like she did back at the hospital.

“Everything will be okay, baby girl. We’re going to make this work.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The court date was a few days later. The media had exploded. The good and the bad had circled around the law firm. The trio were cooped up for hours in the office, trying to figure out how to get Frank a better sentence that wouldn’t lead to death. All while this was going on, Kaila had moved on to the last few steps in PT. Now on this fateful day, dressed in a nice blouse and skirt, she practices with her new walking stick out in the halls of the courthouse, waiting to be allowed inside. 

She curses under her breath when she slipped a little, muttering, “Easy, my ass. This is a lot harder than the crutches.” She was so focused on the stupid cane she didn’t even notice someone standing behind her snickering.

“You cosplaying as an old man now?” Jayden says, getting her to turn around.

Her face lights up at the surprise. “More like cosplaying my father. Wait. What are you doing here?” She asks, taking note of him dressing elegantly…? The freshly pressed suit and tie was not something she ever expected to see him in. Even his messy curls had been fixed nicely. He looks so…

“You told me you were going to be stuck all day in the courtroom. Thought you might want some company.” He explains, surprising her more.

“You… you sure?” Kaila asks, with a small frown. “These things tend to vary in time, you know? Could be five minutes, could be twelve hours.”

He waves the statement off. “Yeah, well, I don’t mind. And besides, I could learn a few things.”

She laughs. “That’s… that’s very true.” Her smile returns fastly. “This is quite the play date then.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling this now?” Jayden asks, raising a playful eyebrow.

“I think so.” She teases, copying his expression.

“Hey, Kai!” Her father’s voice broke through, her attention turning on him and the two others walking over to where she was. “It’s about to start. You sure you want to stay in there?”

“Like I said, Dad, I’ll be fine. I want to see how this goes.” Kaila says, shrugging. It takes a second for her to realize that they’re all looking at the person next to her and waiting for an explanation.  “Oh, uh, guys, this is Jayden. My friend from work.”

“Hi, everyone.” The boy says, with a wave. 

“Oh!” Foggy perks up upon recognizing the name. “I talked to you on the phone the other night.” He shakes the teen’s hand gracefully. “Foggy Nelson. It’s finally nice to put a voice to a face.”

“Pleasure to do the same, Mr. Nelson.”

“I’m Karen. I work with them.” The blonde says, with a smile, shaking his hand as well.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Karen.”

“And this is my Dad, Matthew, or Matt.” Kaila replies, gesturing to him. 

“Hi, Mr. Murdock. It’s nice to meet you.” Jayden says, holding his hand out as Matt subtly picks up on something. It was only interrupted when Foggy whispers, 

“His hand’s out.” 

“Ah. Nice to meet you.” Matt plays it off like he always does, taking it in his palm and giving it a shake. Upon the physical contact and release, the feeling of something crossed his mind again immediately. It must have shown in his face, because–

“You okay, Mr. Murdock?” Jayden asks, worrying that he did something wrong.

“Uh, n-no.” He shakes his head. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind today. Um–” He moves his hand around in the air, trying to pull the right words out. “You’ve got quite the grip.”

“Oh, uh–” The teen chuckles. “Yeah. I’ve been told that. Um, so…” He looks between the four of them curiously. “What’s this case y’all defending?”

“Oh, it’s a doozy.” Foggy said, mentally cursing.

“Um, you’ve heard of Frank Castle on the news?” Kaila asks, making his olive eyes go wide.

“...Holy shit.”

“Yep.” She nods. “Perfect reaction. You’re in for a treat. I’ll fill you in on some stuff while we wait. Uh–” She gives the adults reassuring expressions. “Break a leg. You’ll do great.”

“Thanks, Kai.” Karen says, putting up a happy front as well. “That’s all we can do.”

The teenagers break away, Kaila even briefly reaching up to squeeze her Dad’s shoulder for more reassurance. Foggy and Karen both took deep breaths as they started the list of mental preparation from the top again.

“Alright, alright, alright.” Foggy whispers, and picks up his briefcase off the floor. “Let’s do this.” He waves for Karen to start the trek. “Lady’s first. Matt, let’s–” He starts reaching for his best friend’s arm, only stopping when he notices how in thought he looked. “Matt? Matt?” He starts reaching again. “Hey–”

Matt turns his head towards Foggy upon feeling the tap on his arm. “Huh?”

“You alright? What’s going through your head? Nerves?”

“No. Not nerves. It’s… It’s Kai’s friend.”

“Jayden? What about him?” Foggy starts to get worried. “Is he bad news?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s…” How would Matt explain it? “His… hand shake, t-the grip… the cadence of his voice, it’s…” Where was going with this? “He smells… familiar.” Maybe he’s just being paranoid. “But I can’t figure out why.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The first day in court went better than they expected. The opening statement went flawlessly (Unless you count Foggy nervously sweating throughout his half). They even got to present their witness(es) list, and even DA Reyes got herself into a bit of a pickle so… Yay! Jazz hands. 

Now since that was wrapped up, the adults had headed over to the office to compare notes and write down their next few statements, while the two teens went over to the next block for a bit to eat. 

“So… who’s this Tepper guy again?” Jayden asks, as they wait for their names to be called from the foot counter. He was trying to wrap his head around everything he’s seen today as the Young Murdock was kind enough to explain the thing’s he didn’t understand.

“Tepper is apparently the guy who did the autopsy for Mr. Castle’s family. Which Castle claims is wrong, so my Dad and them will bring that up, and hopefully bring Tepper to stand. You know, to try to get him to crack.” She replies, as he nods his head.

“Gotcha.”

“Then, they’re also going to get him an even better sentence by presenting to the court that he suffers from PTSD due to his time at war. Which was retriggered after his family was killed.”

“Gotcha. Man…” He shifts his weight around with a worried look. “They definitely got their hands full with this one.”

“Definitely.” She agrees, shortly afterwards their names were called. They soon slid into a booth with their trays.

“So, on a different note, I meant to ask.” Jayden starts, after getting comforting. “That woman who came to your house the other night. Who was she?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Kaila replies, brushing the thought of her off. “She’s an old, crazy flame of my Dad. Who apparently was still hung up on him so… yeah.” She starts to take a sip of her drink, but stops to add, “But don’t worry, she didn’t do anything to me. She just wanted to ask questions.”

“But still…” He makes a face. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.” She shrugs. “I, uh, appreciate you calling my Uncle though. He called my Dad, and they came over quickly.”

“No problem. I think anyone with the right mind would have done that.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“So, he’s your Uncle?” Jayden asks, and starts eating.

Kaila finishes chewing to say, “Not biologically. My Dad met him in college, roommates, and uh, they just hit it off. My Dad was immediately adopted into Foggy’s family so… yeah.”

“I take it he has a big family?”

“Oh, yeah.” She grins at the memories of them. “There’s my Uncle Theo, his wife, Sissy, and their three kids; And then there’s Grandpa Edward, and Grandma Anne.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at her enthusiasm. “Are they lawyers, too?”

“No.” Her grin grows. “They’re actually butchers.”

“That’s… a twist I wasn’t expecting.”

She snorts. “No one does. But hey, there’s perks of having your own butcher shop. They have the best maple ham around Christmas time.”

“I might have to stop by for a bite.” He says, as she shakes her head ‘Yes’. They fall into a comfortable silence for a sec, before he breaks the ice by saying, “This is a nice play date.”

“Yeah. It is." Another pause. "Can I ask you something now?”

“Go for it.”

“When you came to my house, before we were interrupted, what were you trying to tell me? You mentioned your name.”

“To be honest, Kai…” He shrugs. “Don’t even worry about it.”

She quirks up her eyebrow. “No?”

“No.” He pauses eating to say, “But my name is Jayden, I don’t want you to think it’s not. What I meant is my last name. I just… it doesn’t mean anything anymore if I tell you. So…” Another shrug. “I-I mean… my dad’s not around anymore, so… there’s no weight for it at this moment, you know?”

Kaila notices how uncomfortable he’s getting, to the point where he’s nitpicking at his food. And he looks way paler than a few seconds ago. 

She frowns, worriedly. “Your dad really messed you up, huh?” He nods slowly, looking like a kicked puppy. “You know I wouldn’t care about your past, you know? God knows mine is a little murky, I mentioned that to you, right?”

“Yeah. You did.” He says, meeting her gaze as she tries to find the right words.

“Do you… do you think if we’re closer you would open up more?”

“Probably. Yeah.”

She stops and thinks again, the lightbulb slowly turning on. “Hold your hands up.”

He blinks. “What?”

“Just humor me.” He does, and so does she. “Okay, obviously there’s a reason we met, maybe fate put us together to just be friends, or maybe we meant to help one another, but whatever the reason is, we should try to forge a bond. You know, hanging out outside of a… courthouse.”

“What?” He smirks. “Our playdate at the courthouse wasn’t what friends do?”

She copies her expression. “Definitely not what I had in mind.”

“So, what should we do instead?”

She hums, thinking. “We could go to the movies? Do you like Horror?”

He scoffs playfully. “Who doesn’t?”

That got her to laugh before asking, “If you’re free next week, we should go see something. Let’s get to know each other… little-by-little.”

Jayden smiles. “Little-by-little. I like that. But, uh–” He waves his hands. “What’s this about?”

Now it was her turn to smirk. “Uh, keep your left one up, and use your right to cross your heart.” She demonstrates this. “That way, we can’t break the promise.”

“And if it’s broken?”

“We have permission to knock some sense into one another.” She moves her hands around in a ‘so-so’ way. “That can be metaphorical or literal. Your choice.”

He laughs. “Uh, definitely don’t want to be literal if I don’t have to. Your huge ass family might butcher me for their shop.”

She snorts. “No promise there.”

“Okay.” He nods, and crosses his heart. His soft features grew along with hers. “It’s a promise.” 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“So, everything’s okay? You guys got all your notes intact?” Kaila asked, while her and her dad walked home in the moonlight; The hot Summer air grew cooler as soon as the sun disappeared, leaving them to stay close for a little warmth.

“Yeah. Everything’s okay. We should be fine in the morning.” Matt replies, his mind had been elsewhere ever since they arrived at the courthouse. It was getting… concerning.

Kai waited until they crossed a busy road to ask, “What’s the matter? I know this case is obviously overwhelming, but I feel like there’s something else going on in that head of yours.” He stays quiet, almost like he was trying to find the words as she continues, “Is it Jayden?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Do you have a problem with him?”

“No, I…” He sighs. “Well…”

“Well, what?” She grows worried. “Is he actually bad news?”

“No, no, it’s just… how do I say this?” Matt was struggling to explain it like he did earlier to Foggy. “His handshake, his voice… he smells familiar.”

“Smells Familiar?” Kaila raises an eyebrow. “Dad–”

“What I’m saying is, his natural scent reminds me of someone, and I can’t figure out why.” But he ways this whole conversation off with his free hand. “But that’s not what’s nagging me.”

“Then what is it?”

He inhales sharply, deciding there was no easy way to put this, so he says, “At the hospital, before we went in to talk to Frank, Brett pulled me aside. He told me that… the guy who took you is dead.”

“What?!” She says, pulling them to a stop with her widened eyes. “Dad, why are you telling me this now?”

“Because honestly, it slipped my mind. I was more worried when Frank asked to talk to you, that I just forgot.” He frowns. “Until today when Brett called me.”

She tilts her head. “What did he say?”

“That it was in fact not natural causes. It was… morphine. Apparently a far higher dose than you’re supposed to give a patient in pain.”

She sighs, closing her eyes for a second. “Jesus. Do… do they have a suspect? A witness?”

“They don’t know. The nurses who worked with them swear that they’ve never touched that IV since he went into a coma. No one says they haven’t seen anyone go into his room that isn’t staff, but stranger things have happened.”

“Geez. No wonder your head’s in the clouds. You’re trying to play detective right now.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, the bitterness was starting to come through the cracks. “I’m just sick of this. This past month has been… shitty. Nothing is adding up. This, Frank’s family death, even… Elektra’s situation, it’s j-just all… sh-shit. I’m tired of it.”

Kaila sighs again, more quiet this time as she pats her dad’s arm. “Let’s… Let’s take this one step at a time. Let’s worry about Castle first. Let’s try to get him out of the death penalty, then, when the time’s right, we’ll tackle this whole kidnapping thing. For all we know, it was just a crazy ass dude who got it into his head that Nelson and Murdock didn’t help his brother.” She shrugs. “That’s it. Okay?”

He exhales again, and nods (Admitting she’s right) “Okay. Castle first.”

She smiles. “Castle first.” They start their walk again. “I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, same. Took our freaking landlord long enough to fix the door.”

“Surprise he ain’t charging you for it, you trashed it pretty hard.”

“I’m surprised as well.” They made their way inside the building, riding the rickety elevator up to the top floor and making it down the hallway; Matt fumbling for the keys in his pocket. “I know you ate, but if you’re still hungry, I was going to make something for myself.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m pretty stuffed.” She replies, entering the house. “I was thinking maybe before bed we could–”

“Took you long enough.” 

The Murdocks froze as soon as they entered the living room. Standing just outside their bathroom was a much older man, snow white hair and bright blue eyes that seemed to look through them despite not being able to see. Kaila felt her father stiffen at her side, and that anger was pushed at full force through his protective barrier. 

Stick just brushed off their silence, walking towards Matt’s room with a bunch of towels while saying, “Come on, I need your help to stop the poison.”

The father-daughter duo stayed still, both trying to process this in their own ways before in unison replying, 

“What the fuck.” 

-Taglist is open if anyone wants to join-

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[cafesunnydale]

[masterlist] masked feelings || p. parker x f!maximoff!oc

⟢ obviously oblivious teens

note: some of characters may be ooc im sorry ;; also kat is a techno/electro-path

tags: idiots to lovers, humor, dark humor, fluff

status: ongoing

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

[t-lostinworlds]

Spider & The Slayer | Peter Parker

PAIRING: peter parker x vampire slayer!oc TROPE/GENRE: meet cute; coffee shop au; fluff SUMMARY: Where Peter meets a girl who isn't who she seemed to be. WARNINGS: cursing, nwh spoilers i guess, vampires, i think that's it? it's pretty tame. WORD COUNT: 5.2k+

A/N: hello! here's a fic commissioned by @theslayerofthevampires ! thank u so so much for trusting me with this. this was definitely something new for me bc i've never done oc's before. but anyways i hope you're satisfied with it! and i hope u guys enjoy it!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ P. PARKER MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

It was fascinating how changing one small thing of a routine could have a profound impact on a person's life. You could leave the house a minute early and the series of events that would happen henceforth would be different than if you had left the house a minute late. Whether that was for better or for worse remained unknown.

As for Peter, it was him coming into the café later than when he usually did.

Later in the afternoon once he was finished with his morning errands was when he typically showed up, that way he could go straight into patrolling for the night after finishing a warm coffee or two. But since the night before was much more taxing compared to the others, he found himself sleeping past his multiple alarms.

It only became a domino effect after that.

He showed up late at his morning job, which caused him to clock out later than usual to appease his manager. As a result of that, rush hour caught him so getting to the train station took far longer than usual.

Peter knew of MJ's schedule at the café, so he knew he could still catch her on time, even if it would only result in seeing her for only a few minutes. What he didn't take into account was her getting off early and missing her entirely.

He only found out the second he got inside the café. Because instead of the familiar girl with a certain head of curls standing behind the counter, it was a big, bald, burly man who he knew was the owner of the place. Peter was so used to MJ taking his order that he ended up just staring at the man for a few seconds or more.

"Are you going to order or what?" the man gruffly said.

Just as Peter was about to speak, he was interrupted by the chime of the front door's bell followed by heavy and rushed footsteps.

During the months he'd been keeping tabs on MJ and Ned under the guise of being a regular customer, he had never seen her before.

Beautiful brown eyes with dark brown hair framing her pretty face even though her features sported an annoyed look more than anything else. The red dress she wore complemented her skin tone prettily. She also wore some black tights, knee-high boots and a long black coat—to keep her warm, most likely. Apart from finding her cute, her silver necklace with a cross also had him intrigued.

At first, Peter thought she was just a customer rushing in to seek warmth and to hide away from the coldness of the outside. Yet aside from the sharp glare the man was sending her way, she walked directly past Peter and straight into the back room.

The man turned to Peter and said, "We will be with you in a moment."

The moment the man disappeared into the back, an argument ensued. 

It wasn't a screaming match per se—the voices were muffled more than anything else—but it was loud enough for some words to echo into the front counter. Either way, Peter was only able to discern their exact conversation due to his enhanced hearing.

"You're supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago!"

"The traffic was shit, Larry, what'd you want me to do? Fly?"

"This isn't the first time you've been late, young lady!'

"I'm earlier than my usual shift!"

"If this happens, again—"

"What? You're firing me?"

Peter heard a beat of silence followed by some grumbling.

"That's what I thought. You're already short-staffed as is," the girl scoffed. "Now can I go and do my job?"

There was a few more grumbling before she finally came back out to the front.

Peter caught her heavy eye roll before she locked gazes with him.

As if knowing that he overheard everything, her whole demeanor suddenly turned shy. Or perhaps Peter simply didn't master his poker face yet. He probably looked too concerned for someone who wasn't supposed to hear anything.

"Sorry about that," she said with a timid smile.

"You don't need to apologize," Peter responded, trying to reassure her as much as he could.

She nodded, her smile turning a little more relaxed. "Same as usual?"

Peter looked at her confused.

Sure, he frequented here often but he didn't think anyone else would be aware of his order considering it was always MJ who took it.

Noticing his confusion, the girl in front of him let out a soft yet awkward laugh.

"I usually work at the back but I do notice how you come here often," she explained, looking away immediately after as she waved her hand. "Not in a weird way or anything! I-I mean like, I'm not a stalker or uh, a creep or something—"

"Don't worry," Peter reassured her, chuckling. "I mean, I come here often and I barely know who else works here? It's kinda my fault for noticing you."

The girl became even more flustered than before, so Peter decided to divert the subject and asked for her name.

"Isabella," she said, smiling with her hand out. "But you can call me Elle."

"Parker. Peter," he fumbled, cheeks turning hot as he shook her hand with a chuckle. "Peter Parker."

"Nice to meet you, Peter," she giggled in return. "Now, what can I get for you?"

•••

It was only a week later that Peter found out that MJ had already resigned from the café. He shouldn't have been surprised considering school was starting back up again. Sure, August was still a few weeks out but he figured she decided to go there early to be able to familiarize with the city. He assumed Ned did the same thing too, since he also hadn't seen him around the café since then.

A part of him wished he could've seen them one last time before they got to Boston. But the other part of him was saying this was for the best. Besides, what was he even going to say? It would've made things weird if he said goodbye because at the end of the day, to them, he was just a random customer that frequented the café.

Yet despite the fact that the two main people he always checked up on—the main reason he visited the café in the first place—were no longer in New York, he couldn't stop going.

He told himself it was simply out of habit. After all, he had been going to the café every single day for the past couple of months. It had been ingrained in his routine that not stopping by at least once simply felt wrong in some way.

Yet deep down he knew it was probably something else or rather, someone.

In only a short amount of time, Elle had intrigued him more than he'd like to admit.

Peter wasn't sure yet as to what exactly it was.

He'd like to think that he was simply making a new friend. But would a simple and innocent friendship—if the mentioned friendship didn't have any underlying feelings—make you feel conflicted? 

Even though he was very well aware he was doing absolutely nothing wrong, Peter somewhat felt a sense of guilt hanging out with Elle.

He kept going back to the promise he made to MJ, about finding her and making her remember. But then again, he'd been visiting the café for months yet there was never any progress. And every time Peter thought they were getting somewhere, that hope would immediately be snuffed out once he realized that she only recognized him as a regular customer and nothing more.

Now, she was hundreds of miles away and chasing after her to Boston wouldn't be a good idea. Apart from coming off as a stalker by appearing at every place she was at—New York needed Spider-Man.

Maybe he should've tried harder when she was still here. Maybe he should've just told her the truth right off the bat.

Or maybe it was time to move on.

Not that he would ever acknowledge all of these feelings any time soon, obviously.

For the past few weeks, he'd been justifying his urge to spend time with Elle as a mere curiosity. Because there was just something about her that he couldn't quite put a finger on. And the only way to find out was to be in her company.

Peter only wanted answers to the questions floating in his head.

That was what he kept telling himself, at least.

•••

It sort of worked.

And by that, Peter meant he learned much more about Elle the more they spent time together.

She was the same age as him and an only child of divorced parents. She was originally from a town just outside of Los Angeles and had only recently moved to New York once she was legal to do so. Now, she found herself working full-time at the café to make ends meet.

They weren't at a stage of knowing each other's numbers yet and they mostly hung around the café—as if it was their own little bubble, almost. But the hours Peter spent in his usual nook in the corner had definitely increased.

If she noticed, she never said a word about it.

Better yet, whenever he would study there for an upcoming GED test, she would sometimes sit with him and help him out whenever her boss wasn't looking. She also was generous enough to give him free refills during moments he would stay later in the night.

Peter would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel some type of way.

His cheeks would heat up whenever their gazes would meet from across the room. A certain warmth would settle in his heart whenever he'd hear her laugh, its pace beating that little bit faster whenever it was him who'd made her laugh. He would find himself grinning unconsciously whenever he would catch a glimpse of her smile, the corner of his lips lifting higher whenever that very smile was directed at him—that type of way.

Something that only seemed to grow on the one-month mark they'd known each other—and hadn't stopped growing since then.

It was easy to say that he was starting to really, really,likeher.

He had also learned to simply let things play out—to go with the flow, if you will. So, he tried not to be too hard on himself and just let himself feel what he feels and see where it goes.

After saving the world countless times and this city even much more, he could at least indulge himself in talking to a pretty girl, right?

Still, there was something else that also piqued his interest. Because the more he got to know her, the more questions seemed to keep popping up.

It made him even more curious.

Other than the fact that she seemed like such a nice sweet and funny girl, quite upbeat when you catch her in a good mood, was able to match his sarcasm very well, funny as well as pretty, he could feel that there was more to her than meets the eye.

Peter was noticing things that simply seemed off.

Aforementioned things weren't necessarily odd in a bad way. They could pass as benign at best. Peter would be able to leave it alone, if she didn't react the way that she did.

But that was the thing, her reaction to being questioned was odd.

Like that one time Peter asked her about a cut on her eyebrow. It wasn't too deep, and he could see that it was on the path of feeling. Still, when he'd seen her the day before and the cut didn't exist then, it was normal for him to ask about how she got it.

Peter expected her to shrug and say something simple like bumping her head against the door or some mishap that was caused by clumsiness more than anything else. But then she started to get nervous. She was stammering an explanation he didn't get to catch because she was already rushing away, throwing in an excuse about some delivery she needed to prepare before disappearing into the back room.

He tried to ignore it but then things just kept getting weirder.

•••

"As if New York hadn't been through enough," said an older, scruffy man as he took a sip of his black coffee.

"Yeah, I don't get why we're always the center of shit," a lanky guy with glasses responded. "Why can't it be Indiana's turn or something?"

"Well, heard there's some shit going on in that town, too."

"Huh, you're right."

The two men chatted as they sat at a booth just beside Peter's. They were two construction workers from across the street, taking a break from their night shift.

It wasn't that Peter was nosey—okay, fine maybe he was, I mean, who isn't'?—but he was unable to tune them out as he waited for Elle to come back with a refill of his coffee.

Besides, their conversation was starting to get interesting.

"You'd think the Avengers would've handled it by now," lanky-boy added. "The number of victims is coming up to double digits."

"Do you really think the Avengers would waste their time on animal attacks?" the old man scoffed. "That's way below their pay grade."

Peter found himself agreeing.

Besides, Spider-Man was there. It's not like he couldn't handle whatever these mysterious attacks were—definitely not tooting his own horn.

Either way, Peter was already aware of the situation. He had been keeping up with the reports on the radio and each one has left him confused more than ever.

He'd tried to catch whatever it was that was behind these attacks but he never seemed to get to the scene of the crime on time. It was always already taken care of. The police would already be swarming the place, so it was safe to assume that they'd been called. Journalists would then follow suit, trying to cover the story as best they could.

Peter would watch from the rooftops as they interviewed the very few witnesses. But what truly raised some questions was that they always describe a woman that stopped these creatures, there for one second and then gone the next.

Was there another new vigilante in New York?

"Sorry that took so long, the machine was acting up again."

Peter turned to Elle with a bright smile, "Why are you apologizing? Are you trying to get me to leave quicker or something?"

"Yes, your ass is about to burn an imprint on that seat," she retorted sarcastically.

Raising a brow, Peter leaned closer to her, smirking. "Why are you thinking about my ass?"

Her eyes widened in shock, pretty lips opening and closing with no words escaping them.

Peter couldn't stop his laugh from bursting out.

"Shut up, Parker," she scoffed, kicking his foot under the table. Though she couldn't stop her giggles as she poured him more coffee.

"There's not even an explanation as to where these animals are coming from," old man grumbled, continuing their conversation.

"But what if there is?" glasses said. Lowering his voice, added, "What if they're not exactly…animals."

"Not that rumor again, Bob—"

"Come on, Luke, it makes sense!"

Peter's heard about that rumor, too.

The people who were attacked by these 'animals' were found to have two punctures on the neck. There was also the case of severe blood loss which didn't make sense from a scientific standpoint because it's impossible for such tiny holes to cause that amount of bleeding in little time. So, theories started going around as people drew their own conclusions. It was probably a way for them to soothe their own fears because knowing what it was would enable them to prepare. That was much easier than trying to fight the unknown.

"Really?" Luke scoffed. "Vampires?"

"I mean, what else could it be?" Bob pushed. "Do you really think a wild animal will survive New York city? It would've been hit by a car by now!"

"Vampires are just a fairytale," Luke brushed off, tone turning teasing as he said, "Or that one shitty movie you love."

"Twilight is not shitty," Bob grumbled before sighing, "Look, Thor was a fairytale once! The Hulk is real but you draw the line on vampires?"

"Whatever floats your boat, Bob."

"Okay, then what about the woman?" lanky Bob continued. "Why would people on the street call her The Vampire Slayer if there aren't any vampires?"

Peter was snapped out of his eavesdropping when Ella let out a panicked yelp. It was only then he realized that coffee had spilled over his mug and splattered all over the table. His concern only grew when he saw the way she was clutching her hand.

"Shit, shit, shit," she hissed.

Peter immediately got out of his seat to stand in front of her. He took her hand in his as he grabbed some tissue from his table. He gently wiped her hand clean and started checking how badly she burned herself. A sigh of relief escaped him once he saw it wasn't severe. Peter didn't know that it was but he couldn't help but pull her hand up to his lip and started blowing cool air on it.

The second he looked up, their gazes met.

Peter didn't know how long they were staring at each other, but he found himself not minding it. But the emotions that flickered in her eyes, from shock to embarrassment had her looking away.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a tad bit disappointed. He would've stayed looking into her eyes for much longer if he could.

"You okay?" he asked, softly caressing her tender skin with his thumb.

"I—" She blinked. "Y-Yeah! Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean your hand—"

"Is completely fine!" she squeaked, pulling her hand away and hiding it behind her. "Don't worry about it."

"Everything okay?" Peter frowned, confused. "You seem spooked."

"Why would I be spooked?" she let out an awkward laugh. 

She never had a mishap before. If there was one thing about her, she was quick on her feet. Peter has seen it countless times from catching a plate before it hits the floor without even looking, or dodging a cupcake with her back turned when a baby had decided to toss it across the room. So, her spilling coffee, on her hand at that, seemed uncharacteristic.

Maybe she was distracted?

Judging from the proximity of those men, she probably heard about what they were talking about or, more or less, was reminded of it since it was the only thing the news had been covering lately. 

"Are you scared about those animal attacks?" he asked in genuine concern. "I could always walk you—"

"Me? Pfft, no. I'm not scared," she quickly brushed it off, waving her hand around. "It's all rumors anyway."

"What, you don't believe in vampires? I mean, punctures in the neck, the evidence is already there," Peter attempted to joke to alleviate the tension but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

The way her eyes widened before rushing to the back and stammering about cleaning up told him as much.

Again.

Weird.

•••

Peter wished he could say it stopped there but what he found tonight brought him some sort of an epiphany almost, a thing that made him slowly connect the dots.

It was the same as any other night of closing the shop, yet as they started to bid their goodbyes, her phone started to beep, loud and fast.

She hurriedly pulled it out of her jacket, took one look at it, and started sputtering her a reason he didn't catch and rushed off, gone before he could even do as much as a wave goodbye.

It was then that he realized that she had dropped something.

At first, he thought it was one of those defense weapons women usually bring with them when they walk at night—a long cylinder-shaped stick with a sharp end. But the more he examined it, the more questions he seemed to gather.

Why is it made of wood?

Is this a wooden stake?

Now, Peter had his moments but he wasn't completely clueless. The animal attacks, the rumors, her sudden nervousness about it, the silver cross necklace, the wooden stake, some woman saving people in the night—could it be?

Surely not…

Right?

•••

It's not creepy if I'm only making sure she's safe.

That was what Peter kept telling himself as he once again followed Elle as she made her way home. He'd been doing it for a couple of nights now, especially since the attacks had only increased. Right after helping her in closing the cafe, they would go their separate ways. Peter would bid his goodbyes as he returned her sentiment about getting home safe.

Yet he was not on his way home.

It might have been wrong to lie, but it was to keep her safe.

But more often than not, Peter somehow would always lose sight of her. Whenever he would look away for a split second, she would be gone. It was either she was quite fast on her feet or she knew how to vanish from thin air.

It only added to the list of odd things he had discovered about her.

Fine, he was making sure that she got home safe, and maybe he was trying to get answers, too.

Both things can be true at the same time, right?

There were simply too many coincidences for him to ignore.

Even more so when he caught her suddenly turning towards an empty alley.

But not for long.

Peter felt like his heart was about to jump out of his throat when he saw four men follow in right behind her.

He swung as quickly as he could, heart beating faster and louder at the thought of her being hurt…or worse.

But whatever scenario he was conjuring in his head, from good to bad to worse outcomes—he never expected this.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement.

It's not every day you see the girl you'd been crushing on take down one guy at a time, flawlessly and effortlessly, as if she could do this in her sleep.

She was mesmerizing.

Her strength was unmistakable as Peter watched her send a guy flying across the alley with a simple kick, swiftly swerving the other perpetrator behind her in one move before hitting them square on the nose and knocking them out.

Peter was awestruck.

Does she have powers?

The fight was already over when he got to her, landing just beside the building that covered any source of light.

Yet Peter's questions only seemed to grow as he watched her pull out a wooden stake from her coat—similar to the one she dropped—and started stabbing each unconscious man. He would've been shocked and scared by the brutality of her actions, that until these…men started turning into dust.

So the rumors were true, then?

"Who's there!"

Peter slowly came out of the shadows with his hands up in surrender, showing her that he wasn't a threat. Yet the second she saw him under the light she lowered her weapon.

"Spider-Man."

Peter tilted his head. "You know who I am?"

"Well, duh? New York's greatest defender? You've made quite a name for yourself," Ella said, crossing her arms over her chest as she raised a brow. "Should've just introduced yourself, you know, instead of following me every night."

"I—uh," he chuckled shyly, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that—"

"What? You think I wouldn't notice?" she snorted, amusement painting her features. "I'd like to believe I'm not that oblivious, given my line of work."

"Of course not I—" Peter didn't know what it was, but he decided right then and there that he might as well just go for it. "Elle, right?"

He expected her to be surprised. But instead, she merely narrowed her eyes at him as if to examine him.

"How'd you know?"

"Well…" he trailed off, grabbing the top of his mask and then pulling it off.

He flashed her a shy smile. "Hey.'

"Peter…" she breathed out, blinking for a few times before her grin widened. "I fucking knew it!"

Peter blinked.

"What?"

"That makes so much sense!" she added gleefully.

"Okay, wait no," Peter shook his head, glaring at her playfully as he crossed his arms. "Don't you dare say you had your suspicions."

"Oh I absolutely had my suspicions," she giggled, all adorable and proud. "Besides, Spider-Man following me home immediately after I say goodbye to you after closing the café?"

Peter let out a defeated sigh.

"Yeah, you aren't as slick as you think you are, Parker."

"You're not as careful as you think you are either," he retorted, tossing her the wooden stake she dropped a couple nights ago.

She caught it effortlessly.

"Huh, so that's where it went," she mused, laughing shyly. "I guess we both have our moments."

"So you're the slayer person?" Peter asked, walking closer to her.

"Vampire Slayer," she corrected.

Once he was close enough, he swiftly yet discreetly scanned her form to check if she was hurt, grateful that he didn't seem to see any visible injuries.

Still, ever the observant person—or maybe it was one of her powers, who knows—she still caught him. "Are you checking me out, Parker?"

"I'm making sure you're not hurt."

She blinked at him, surprised. She probably didn't expect him to be so blatantly honest.

"I'm not hurt," she reassured with a soft smile.

Peter mirrored her grin with a nod before narrowing his eyes. "What does 'Vampire Slayer' mean, exactly?"

She raised her brow at him. "It's literally on the name."

Peter deadpanned.

"What?" she giggled, reaching a hand up to settle his hair, made unruly by his mask.

He couldn't stop his heart from doing a silly little dance inside his chest, its warmth slowly seeping onto his cheeks.

"You know," he hummed, daring to place a hand on her waist. He couldn't stop his smile when she leaned a little closer. "You had me worried there for a second, thought you were in danger when I saw those men follow you in. Turns out, you didn't really need any help."

"Well, I'll have you know I'm not some damsel in distress," she scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes.

"Never thought you were," he chuckled. 

"Besides, you're not the only one who has powers in this neighborhood," she said, grinning.

Peter didn't exactly know where the sudden burst of confidence was coming from. Maybe it was from the fact that his feelings for her were definitely confirmed by the fear he felt at the thought of her being in danger or hurt. Maybe he was just feeding off of her high energy and adrenaline. Either way, he didn't hesitate to shoot his shot.

"How about you tell me all about it over dinner? My treat."

"Is this your way of bribing me to spill my secrets?" she said with narrowed eyes. "Or are you so enthralled by my skills that you're asking me out on a date?"

"Why not both?"

"Shut up," she giggled. "About time you asked though. You can be kinda slow with hints sometimes."

Peter looked at her genuinely confused, "What hints?"

"Seriously?" she snorted. "I don't just give free coffee refills to anyone, mind you. It's technically not even allowed."

He grinned, placing his other hand on her waist and giving it a gentle squeeze. "What are you trying to say here exactly?"

"Uh…" She turned shy, then, eyes casted down. Peter could see she was trying to gain the courage to just say it out loud.

"That you like me, too?" he supplied instead, her eyes snapping back up to meet his.

"Too?"

"Looks like I'm not the only one who's slow when it comes to hints."

Peter felt his heart stutter at the way her smile brightened.

"So, pizza at my place?" she hummed, giggling. But then realization dawned on her face. "Oh wait. I still need to patrol."

"Same here. How about I come with," Peter offered. "Then we get pizza after."

"The Spider-Man needing my help?" she teased. "I thought I'd never see the day."

"Shut up" Peter rolled his eyes. "Now, hold tight."

"Why?" she asked confused, yet did so, anyway, wrapping her arms around his neck.

It made Peter feel warm, simply from the fact that she trusted him and his word enough.

Once he put on his mask and made sure she was secured, Peter didn't say another word as he hoisted them up and started swinging, her shrieks and expletives marrying with his boisterous laugh.

After roaming the city of New York and stopping any petty crime they came across—and killing two more vampires, a sight Peter still needed to get used to—they stopped at his apartment to get some stuff before crashing at her place for the night solely because it was bigger than his.

They might have skipped a few steps compared to any normal relationships—they were barely even there, frankly—but then again, nothing about them was normal to begin with, anyway.

For the rest of the evening, as they sat on her living room floor with two boxes of warm pizza sitting on the coffee table, Elle told Peter her story, and in return, he also shared pieces of his.

She got chosen—ironic since there wasn't even much of a choice—as a slayer when she was fifteen, and Peter shared that he got bitten by a radioactive spider at that age, too. She shared how she was given these powers that basically made her an enhanced individual which led to a playful arm wrestling match to see who was stronger. Peter ended up losing solely because he was too scared to hurt her, especially when he himself wasn't fully aware at what level his strength truly was.

She got all pouty about it but it was immediately pushed aside when Peter said she looked so cute when she was pouting.

He got a pepperoni in the face when he wouldn't stop teasing her about it.

But aside from the witches, vampires and demons alike—which was how Peter learned Wanda was actually a witch instead of a mutant—the two of them are surprisingly so similar in some ways. They already clicked before, and now, they seemed to have a lot in common when it came to their second life as well.

They also shared sentiments as to how lonely this life could be sometimes and it was like a breath of fresh air for Peter to have someone understand him. Maybe not to the fullest of extents since whatever this was between them was new, but understand him, nonetheless.

It was safe to say Peter was glad he came into the café later than when he usually did that day.

Fascinating how changing one small thing in a routine could have a profound impact on a person's life, huh?

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading hun! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated <3

✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary​​​​​​​ and turn on notifications to get updated on my work!

© t-lostinworlds, 2025 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to copy & repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

[blueribbcn]

🪶 ⋆✴︎ THE DREAM TEAM.

tasm!peter parker x fem!oc

warnings: none!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She had no friends in this class.

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

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

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

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

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

"Peter?"

"Yeah?" he looked at her.

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

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

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

love always, annie

uhmmm soooo . . . if you know me from wp you might remember them but omg omg omg my babies i miss them bad but they’re not back yet… they’re tucked away in my wp vault and occasionally slipping through the cracks on tumblr ☺️☺️☺️ gracie wants her cookie bad (must be love on the brain) anyway anyway anyway @bloodwrittenletters told me to post ☺️ she’s geeked out so am I that’s it pls like this

[izzy140105]

I wanna hear about your marvel oc pleeeease!!!

Okie!! I actually have multiple 😭 but I'll talk about my baby girl miss Isabelle Stark 🤭 (yes I name my oc the same thing in other medias - she has her own little multiverse in my mind)

⋆⁺₊⋆ cliche, but she's the oldest daughter to Tony Stark and Morgan Stark's half-sister.

⋆⁺₊⋆ her mother died in childbirth so she's never actually really known her and because she is the product of a one night stand Tony didn't really know her mother either (which is something he hates himself for because she deserves to know about her)

⋆⁺₊⋆ that said, Pepper has always been like a maternal figure to her. So my girl was OVERJOYED when Tony finally proposed to her.

⋆⁺₊⋆ she's incredibly smart for her age, but as Tony says "she's a Stark, of course she's smart".

⋆⁺₊⋆ another cliche, but she does become friends with Peter Parker (I should mention this is definitely MCU centred lol) as well Ned and MJ.

⋆⁺₊⋆ actually, her and Peter start to have little crushes on each other and do start dating at one point. It's so cute.

⋆⁺₊⋆ she's also secretly made her first Iron Woman suit. Though people called her Iron Girl and she kinda just stuck with that lol (*cough* until Tony died and she picked up the mantle *cough*)

⋆⁺₊⋆ Tony wasn't happy about that lol, but he was impressed that she remembered how to build one after being like (in his eyes at least) a baby when helping him with his.

⋆⁺₊⋆ father and daughter bonding moment while building the Iron Man suit <3

⋆⁺₊⋆ she also does blip when Thanos snaps, because I felt like hurting Tony more by making him lose BOTH Peter and her.

⋆⁺₊⋆ before I hurt myself more, I'm sure you can figure out what happens after that...

⋆⁺₊⋆ happier note to end, she becomes the owner of Stark Industries!! At like 15/16 but she'll be fineeeeee...

[jahayla-writes]

🎆 Hey J!! Congrats on your 1.5 followers I'm so proud of you girl!! So for my request I was wondering if it could be a Peter Parker one where y/n is somehow transported into Spider-Man: Homecoming, Spider-Man: Far From Home, or Spider-Man No Way Home you pick and chaos ensues 💜

Multiverse : Peter Parker x Real-world!Reader

Descr: short fic in which y/n finds herself in her favorite movie and has to decide how to proceed.

Warnings: I’m not really great at these kind of AUs but other than that, I can’t think of any but let me know!

This sucks; I'm sorry, nothing was coming to me

Y/n bounced her right leg nervously as she looked around. She didn’t understand what was going on. One second she had been rewatching the latest Spider-Man movie, No Way Home from the comfort of her apartment. The next, she was standing in front of a glowing circle, identical to the ones that were portals in the movie she’d been watching. She hesitated briefly but nevertheless let her courage guide her into the multi-dimensional opening.

Y/n squinted as her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings. She quickly realized she’d somehow seemingly entered into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. How that was possible, she wasn’t certain. Had it not been for her literally pinching herself several times, she’d have thought she was simply dreaming. But she wasn’t. This was real.

Y/n slowly made her way across the bridge, stopping the moment she heard the fighting begin. She was actually in No Way Home.. or… in the universe that held the No Way Home events..? She wasn’t sure how to phrase it, it was all so bizarre. Either way, she knew from having seen the movie countless times already, that she ought to run and hide unless she wanted Dr. Octavius or Green Goblin to harm her.

Y/n let her feet guide her away from the immediate threat, only looking up when her legs came to a halt. She blinked rapidly as she found herself standing in front of Doctor Strange’s Sanctum. Of course she’d managed to make it here. Perhaps she should just go with the flow and try to help. After all, she knew how things would go, maybe she could prevent Tom Holland’s char Peter from getting hurt and May from dying.

That idea turned out too optimistic as Peter understandably was weary of y/n. It was one thing to bring people who knew him/Spider-Man from other universes. But a universe in which he was actually just a character and not real, that was another thing to digest. Nevertheless, Peter didn’t want to take any chances so he let her help him, Ned, and MJ.

It was a bit difficult at first to get Peter to trust her. As in his eyes, she seemed to be able to tell the future and was offering to stop the bad things before they happened. Luckily, having seen Far From Home, y/n understood why he was so weary of such a thing being too good to be true. So even when Peter trapped her in a sheet of webs as he demanded answers he could understand, she remained calm.

Once he had heard her out and understood that she meant no harm, Peter let y/n guide him on what to do and what not to do. There were some moments of chaos nonetheless as they were trying new things that y/n knew Peter hadn’t done in the movie before. But, she figured it was worth all the danger and chaos because she was helping her favorite superhero.

Only that too was much more intense than y/n had anticipated. Yet, she was simultaneously thrilled to be playing an active part in the movie she loved so much. Especially since they were now near the ending and May hadn’t died!

The only issue is y/n now had to return to her own universe. As much as she wanted to stay and make a place for herself in this one, she refused to risk ruining the MCU by accident. So, with a sigh, y/n closed her eyes as she said goodbye to this universe before stepping back into hers.

Taglist: @justapurrcat @natswife-marvelicious @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @theslayerofthevampires @wonderland2425

Peter Parker Navigation

Tom Holland Navigation

My Main Masterlist Navigation (All My Works)

[ailoda]

updated: 14.01.25

ᯓ★ multiverse!au

Scared To Breathe (❅): seeing you again was too much for peter, so much so that shutting you out seemed like the only thing he could do. (@mgparker)

↪︎ Moment of Forever (❤❅): months after the events of the multiversal battle, you’re stuck in an endless loop of helplessness and isolation. when seeking help from the person who started it all goes extraordinarily wrong, you find yourself in a different universe all together… with no way home. (part two)

Infinitely You (❤❅): in every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were. (@spider-stark)

Right Again (❤❅): in which you and peter parker find yourselves in the strangest predicament you’ve ever experienced… with a blast from the past. (@mgparker)

And Then There Was You (❤❅): secrets come to light when peter parker breaches the universe’s threshold and the last thing you expected was to fall for a stranger. (@ptersparkers)

Out of Place (❤❅): you reunite with your Peter after blipping into the MCU!universe. (@forever-rogue)

[smolkooks]

gotcha! - part vi (finale)

summary: eren yeager is spiderman. of course, nobody knows. not even you. not yet.

pairings: spiderman!eren yeager x reader

genre: college/university au, fluff, angst

a/n: this is part six of a short story! it is also posted on my ao3 <3 other parts linked on my masterlist!

🕷🕸️✩°★°⋆ 🎧✮🕸🕷🕸️✩°★°⋆ 🎧✮🕸🕷🕸️✩°★°⋆ 🎧✮🕸🕷

You dropped him, not thinking.

Spiderman—Eren—caught his own footing and then said, “I’m really sorry, I tried to get there as fast as I could, but you were already hurt by then.” He glanced down guiltily, and then continued, “I should have—,”

“Eren,” you repeated, eyes flickering between his face and his suit, the red and blue markings of the superhero that had become so familiar to you. You couldn’t—couldn’t put it together. Eren opened his mouth to explain, but nothing really came out, and so the two of you stood in silence for a long moment, at a standstill.

“I—shit,” he said at last, inelegantly.

“Eren,” you said again, this time more insistently, “You…” you stepped closer to him, eyes wide. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what you were feeling. Shock, for sure. Betrayal? No, not quite. Fear? Concern? All of your emotions mixed together to form a storm of uncertainty that made you search Eren’s familiar face for answers—his green eyes, dark brows, brown hair that flopped over his forehead. He looked earnest, but his brow was furrowed in guilt, maybe a bit of shame.

“Yeah,” he said, not quite meeting your eyes, “It’s my fault that you’ve been…” he swallowed, “getting in all this trouble.”

“You’re kidding.”

He shook his head, reaching out to touch you but then stopping, hesitating, halfway. “I’m not. I should have been more careful that time, and the villains would never have targeted you the way they have been—,”

“Eren,” you cut him off, grabbing him by his arm, making him pause and look at where you were touching him, “You saved me.”

“I…” his eyes dragged from where you were holding him, upwards, slowly, until he met your eyes. You hated how uncertain he looked. It wasn’t like him.

“You can shut the fuck up about putting me in danger,” you continued, your grip on his arm tightening, “If you hadn’t shown up that day the robbery occurred, all those months ago, I would have been stabbed then and there.” You released his arm, and it slipped back to his side slowly.

He studied you, his eyes full of so much emotion, guilt morphing to gratitude, to adoration, to—

The next thing he said was your name, and then he said it again, gaze not leaving yours. “I’m really,” he swallowed, “I’m really sorry for disappearing that day, at the party.” Suddenly, he looked dejected as he explained, “I really wanted to walk you home, that day. You looked so pretty,” his hand came up and touched your face, softly. Your eyes shuttered.

“And then afterwards,” he said, “I was dead on my feet for days. I couldn’t—that’s why I wasn’t able to be around, and I’m sorry for making you worry.”

“That’s,” you shook your head, a bit incredulous, “That’s nothing, Eren. You’re literally fucking Spiderman.”

You knew the moment the words left your lips that Eren wouldn’t be able to help himself, and the immediate curve of his mouth confirmed your suspicions when he rebutted, “I’m not exactly fucking Spiderman.”

“Shut the hell up,” you grumbled, hitting him on the shoulder hard enough for him to wince, “I knew you were going to say that.” And yet, even as you tried your very hardest to feign annoyance, you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face, matching Eren’s own expression. “You’re so irritating,” you added, rolling your eyes.

“You love me,” he said in a sing-song voice, and you responded by dragging him to the couch and shoving him to sit down, turning away to dig around for your first aid kit in your drawer so that he couldn’t see the blush on your face.

“Take off your suit,” you instructed when you finally returned back to the couch, your composure successfully restored.

“Bossy, today,” Eren replied, but he complied anyway, leaving him in a much more normal outfit, just a regular t-shirt and—well, he wasn’t wearing pants, leaving him in just his underwear, so you tried not to look.

“You’re not wearing pants,” you pointed out, inspecting the damage that had been done to his face. Most of the wounds had begun to heal, like they usually did when you patched him up, and with your recent revelations of his identity, the phenomenon made a lot more sense.

“No,” he agreed easily, “have you seen how tight the spandex suit is? You try wear that thing over jeans.” He pointed at the costume that was now in an unorganised heap on the floor. You frowned at it. Was it really okay to leave a high-tech suit like that just on your living room floor? Shouldn’t he at least fold it up?

As if reading your mind, Eren said, “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t get wrinkled.”

You snorted, “I just thought a superhero would take better care of his things, that’s all.” You settled on taking a cotton ball and dabbing away the blood that was still left on his face, even after his cuts and bruises had mostly faded away.

“I take very good care of the things that matter,” Eren corrected, taking hold of your hand meaningfully, forcing you to pause in your dabbing. For a moment, the air between the two of you seemed to stand still.

This time there was nowhere for you to hide your blush. Instead, you sputtered out, “You—you’re impossible.” You bit your lip to try to stop your smile, but Eren tsked, his fingers brushing gently over your mouth to make you release it.

“Don’t do that,” he said , “I want to see your pretty smile.”

Stunned speechless. That was what you were, even as your face felt hotter than the sun. Eren grinned at you, seeming very happy with himself. Then, he stood and said, “You sit, now. You’re probably beat up worse than me.” He took you by your shoulders and sat you down in the same spot he had just been, plucking the cotton ball from between your fingers.

Still feeling a little stupefied, you struggled to control your heart rate when Eren tossed the used cotton and replaced it with a new one, cleaning you up the same way you had done for him.

“You reckon you need the hospital?” Eren said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was soft, and you felt your breath hitch as his fingers brushed over your lips again, “You were hit pretty hard.”

“I feel fine.” You said over the sound of your racing heartbeat.

He made a noise that sounded a little like disagreement, but at your insistent glare he relented, “We’ll go later if you feel any worse, then.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence for a bit, but Eren seemed deep in thought. When he was finally done, he tossed the used first aid equipment into the bin, helped you pack up the first aid kit in its usual draw, and then settled down quietly in the seat next to you.

Abruptly, he pulled you into his side, and your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly felt so warm—so safe, and it was strange, that things were so different yet still the same. Always the same. This was Eren, your friend, your best friend, the same guy who never failed to make your heart skip a beat, make you blush like nobody else seemed to be able to do, and you couldn’t help the sigh that slipped from your lips when he took your hand in his.

He said your name, and you turned to look at him. The sunlight in the window was slipping into evening, the living room darkening. Had it really been so long that it was turning to night, now? What remained of the slivers of sunlight cast shadows across Eren’s face that made him look ethereal in a way that almost flustered you.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” he confessed, the words seeming to release the tension that had hung like a taut string in the air, electrifying the room. “For a really, really long time.”

“Eren…”

Finally, he turned, interlacing your fingers with his absently as he continued, almost like he couldn’t stop, “I’ve never felt like this before. Every time I look at you, it’s like you’re…” he searched for the word while his emerald eyes searched your face, “you’re just…everything,” he decided, settling on the word after a brief pause, “and I’ve never wanted to protect something—someone—so badly in my life.” He swallowed, his throat bobbing. You were unable to look away from him, as though there was an irresistable pull between your gazes, like the inevitable attraction between the two poles of a magnet, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You opened your mouth to reply—you had no idea what—your heartbeat was thundering, but before you could say anything, Eren continued, braving on.

“I’d like to keep protecting you,” he said, “loving you. If you’ll let me.”

Love.

That was what this was. This pull, the moments where you felt like you couldn’t think of anything but him. Suddenly, the world felt like it had melted away, and as the last of the sunlight slipped from the sky, leaving the glow of the moon illuminating your small living room, you breathed, “Eren, you mean…” your own throat bobbed.

“I love you,” he affirmed, almost pleadingly, his eyes wide with earnest, “I love you.”

You squeezed his hand, suddenly feeling out of breath, “Eren, you’ll always have me. I…I’ve wanted you for a long time, too,” you admitted, thinking of all the times your heart had leapt when he knocked on your front door, the late nights spent cooking or watching movies or doing mundane things. All the times you’d cleaned up his injuries while he ranted about his schoolwork, his trouble with his friends, all of his worries. You thought of Spiderman, how he had never failed to appear whenever you needed help, whenever you were in trouble. You thought of Spiderman, the superhero who had walked you home.

Your voice welled with emotion when you confessed, “I love you, too.”

It was almost cathartic. As the words hung in the air, you swore you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. Then, Eren was beaming—his smile so bright it almost made up for the lack of sunlight in the room, his eyes sparkling like jewels as he took your face in his hands and said, softly, “Spiderman’s girl, right?”

You flushed, leaning into the warmth of his hand against your skin, “No,” you put your hands on his sides, gentle, and then dragged your touch up, across his chest, to his shoulders, then finally interlaced your fingers around the back of his neck, “Eren’s.”

He made a choking noise that made you let out a quiet laugh, but—

Warm.

Eren was kissing you—your laugh fading into the evening air as his grip on your face became firmer. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you leant into his touch. His kiss was gentle, probing, a little bit uncertain, but his hands were secure as he tugged you into his lap, as though he wanted every inch of you to be pressed against him.

“Eren,” you gasped when his lips trailed down towards your jaw, down to your neck, and he groaned, pressing his face into your skin. You tangled your fingers in his dark hair and tugged, your face flushed as you tilted back to let him kiss down the column of your throat. His hands slid down your sides and settled at your waist, squeezing the skin there in a way that made you shudder with want.

“You’re,” he managed, “so beautiful.”

Your pulse stuttered when you met his eyes—pupils blown so that the green of his eyes was consumed with black, lips flushed a soft pink from your kiss. Under the moonlight, his skin seemed to glow with silver light, and you couldn’t help it—you gripped him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into another bruising kiss. This time, the kiss was hungry, greedy—you pulled harder at his shirt to get him infinitely closer to you, whimpering when he bit at your lip. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your whole body pulsed with heat, feeling his hands trail up your shirt, his touch cool against your burning skin.

“Fuck Spiderman,” he murmured into your mouth, “I’ll just kiss you forever.”

“Thought you weren’t fucking Spiderman,” you retorted playfully, breath still heavy.

Eren’s glare was sharp and playfully unimpressed, but it only served to heat you up more, and then suddenly the two of you were losing yourselves in each other, the light of the moon the only witness to your love.

***

“I feel like,” you remarked, “you villains need to come up with something new one of these days.”

“Shut up, bitch,” the criminal snapped, threateningly dangling you over the edge. It was a bridge, this time, so you didn’t even find yourself feeling too scared. It was miles lower than the Freedom Tower, and it looked like even if you fell, you’d get a nice, cushioned landing into the water, anyway.

Not how that works, Eren’s voice seemed to grumble in the back of your mind, and you couldn’t help the smile that tilted up the corners of your lips at the memory. He’d been so annoyed this morning when you’d suggested this idea to him, after he’d mentioned his struggles in trying to catch this particular criminal character with his past few attempts.

“Spiderman’s gonna come for you,” the criminal threatened darkly, “and then we’ll get him for good, this time.”

You snorted, “Spiderman’s gonna come for you.”

Your kidnapper let out a loud, frustrated yell and moved to hit you, but it was suddenly cut short as he was smashed into the ground by a large, flying object.

A large, flying…car? Yes, sure enough, a car had gone soaring right in front of you, smashing the criminal underneath its weight, the metal crumpling a bit at the impact, the glass of the windows shattering as it landed.

And then, before you could fully register the police that were arriving on the scene, the sound of sirens and the car alarms going off nearby from the shaking of the ground, you were snatched right off your feet and suddenly you were flying through the air, swinging through the city.

“It worked,” you said smugly to your saviour, who only grumbled in annoyance. Spiderman’s grip on you was familiar and comforting, but he pointedly ignored you as he swung you through the city. So, you continued to prod, “I told you it would.”

“I don’t like using you as bait,” he finally replied, sounding very unhappy.

“It turned out fine,” you insisted, “you got him in one go!” You raised your fist as if to give him a fist bump and laughed when he smacked it away, feigning annoyance even though you knew he was amused. You could just tell. It was like a sixth sense. A spidey-sense.

“You’re ridiculous,” Spiderman insisted, “We’re never doing that again.”

“I think we will.”

“You’re gonna be in danger—again,” he argued, yelling over the sound of the wind whipping against your faces.

“I’m not really in danger,” you pointed out, “I always know you’ve got me.”

Finally, he looked down at you. His gaze was soft, this time, the eyes of his visor widened affectionately as he heaved a sigh of relent, giving in to you. He’d let you win, this time.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I guess I do.”

the end.

[sweetestangel13]

peter x adelaide! @xoxzso

a/n: hi so this is not proof read, i hate it and this signals i’ve hit rock bottom. sigh. oh and the geography is probably all wrong so whatever. also this is bad so wtv.

syonosis: Peter and Adelaide are in a school trip, except an unexpected twist leads them dumbfounded. word count: 671

warnings: swear words and yea.

Peter and Adelaide had never been close friends, which is why when they were grouped together in a field trip to Massachusetts’ museum of science it caught them both by surprise. Adelaide had never really been interested in science, however she saw the opportunity to skip class and couldn’t miss it. Peter, on the other hand, was enamored with science. He loved every aspect of it, from the relief of finally seeing the results of months of work to doing research non stop. He loved all of it.

Well all of it except for cleaning up his mess obviously. Adelaide didn’t mind, so when one day in science class he had a little bit of too much of a mess she decided to help. From then on they were acquaintances. Not friends, yet not strangers.

Adelaide was thinking about all of this while listening to Gracie Abrams on the airplane to Massachusetts. It was a quiet flight. Gwen sat next to her but they didn’t talk, however the silence wasn’t uncomfortable so it was fine.

A few hours later, the teacher instructed everyone to get together with their partners. So Peter shyly walked towards adelaide. “Hey..” She nodded. Normally, when it’s an overnight trip guys and girls aren’t allowed as partners because.. you know. But the number of guys and girls wasn’t even (7 guys and 7 girls) so they were paired together. A lot of people found it unfair, but the teachers told them they would be under strict surveillance. The teachers instructed them to sit with their partners on the bus.

After another quiet ride, they finally arrived at the hotel. One of the assistant teachers was passing out the keys to everyone’s room. After receiving their key, Adelaide and Peter started walking towards their room. Peter opened the door and they both walked in. Peter headed towards the bedroom (yes the school was cheap and they only got one) while Adelaide walked towards the living room. She was about to lay down on the soft red velvet sofa when suddenly “Uh.. Adelaide? You might want to come see this..”

She sighed and got up. she started walking towards the bedroom. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting but it sure as hell wants to find 20 twin beds in one singular room. Her jaw dropped as much as her anatomy allowed her to. “What the fuck?” was the only thing to come out of her mouth. She looked over at Peter, waiting for maybe an explanation, but the only thing she got was an astonished expression and a shrug. “I- i have no idea what happened, i mean i walked in and then boom!” he extended his arm pointing at it “What do we do then?” Adelaide asked. Peter was about to answer when she cut him off by saying “Are those beds stacked????” Peter looked over and to his surprise, there were two beds stacked on top of the other in what seemed as a lousy attempt at a bunk bed.”So what do we do now? Sleep on the floor? I saw a rat in the lobby…” “I guess we sleep in the beds,” Peter said. “I mean, I suppose.. this is just so weird.” Adelaide walked out the room and then BOOM! THERE WAS MORE BEDS!!!! Three beds laid across the living room, “What the fu-“ BOOM. More beds! it was like rain, except it was beds. Peter heard the loud thud and walked out to see all the other beds. His eyes widened, he was about to speak and then boom! BOOM BOOM BOOM! Five big booms! It was insane! And it kept going!

then the tv turned on “It’s raining beds..?” said the astonished tv reporter. “Is- is this wrong or-?” she never finished as a BOOM! went off and she got flattened by a bed. Adelaide didn’t know what was happening, but she did know one thing: this wouldn’t be the last time it happened. This was the start of the bed-olution.

[cafesunnydale]

masked feelings || p. parker x f!maximoff!oc

⟢ obviously oblivious teens

tags: idiots to lovers, humor, dark humor, fluff

warnings: violence, swearing

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THREE

⤷ i turned for a second and he was on the ground

[juliaswickcrs]

MCU OCS + MERCHANDISE ↳ ( oc halloween challenge, day three )

collector's edition trading cards and funko pop bundle.

feat. rare finds like post blip shrike, white suit matryoshka, secret identity stasis and never-before-seen funkos including pre-red room matryoshka and gonzo the flerken.

taglist: @bisexualterror @foxesandmagic @iron-parkr @camiemendess @a-song-of-quill-and-feather

@arrthurpendragon @starcrossedjedis @drbobbimorse @kingsmakers @noratilney

@stanshollaand @astarionbae @darth-caillic @mystic-scripture @aliverse

@misshiraethsworld @asirensrage @eddiemunscns

@princessmadelines @impales @waterloou @thatmagickjuju

MARVEL TAGLIST: @notxjustxstories @themaradwrites

[gwendolynstark]

Chooey talks ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

I DID AN ART TRADE RAHHHHH (art trades still open if anyone is interested ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ)

what they gave 🥹🥹 (PeterGwen... Sighhhhhhhhh, I'm indulging in ocxcanon over here.)

WHAT I GAVEEEE (I HAD SOSOSOS MUCH FUNN!!!)