#wilson fisk x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skyfallslayer · 5 months ago

Text

The Daughter of The (Dare)Devil || Hiatus Recap

Please read my apology here if you haven't. It explain why I've been gone so long. And since it has been several months, I've decided to write a little recap. Feel free to read it before you move on to the new story, or not.

|| SEASON 1 ||

Set pre-canon by a several months, is story 1: 'Welcome Home The Blood and Bruises'. This story shows how Matt ends up screwing his "foolproof" plan of never-ever telling his daughter that he's a vigilante. The beginning scene shows Matt a little banged up while his daughter, Kaila (age 14), takes care of him. This causes a flashback to a year earlier where his plan falls apart. Matt arrives home in a bad state, causing him to faint and for his daughter to find her, thus revealing his secret. Eventually, realizing that's there's no way to stop this man, Kaila just accepts it and agrees to help patch him up.

Story 2: 'I'd Burn The World For You'. For some reason this is still one of my favorites that I've written despite the angst that I throw here and there. In this one, the story's set after DD Episode one, where Matt and his best friend, Foggy had just hired an assistant that so happen to be their first client, Karen. Now, remember, Kai's a bit skeptic in the beginning and Foggy's just hungry (lol). Meanwhile, being the curious person she was, Karen starts asking Matt about his past, like 'We're you married?' or 'Did you have a girlfriend?'. Which Matt encourages, and replies with the story of how his daughter came into his custody. Flashback to fourteen years ago, the best friends have graduated college and have passed their Bar exam. Matt's in his new apartment and telling Foggy about how his fling, Aka: Kai's Mother, who's name is Mary (Remember that people), is trying to contact him via phone call but he's ignoring. Foggy eventually slips out to get them lunch, and before you know it, Mary drops baby Kai off in front of the door. Matt manages to call and get Foggy to come back, dumbfounding his best friend which soon insist 'It's just a prank, bro'. Nerves are shooting through the roof as they get to the hospital to get a DNA test to find out of Matt's really this baby's father. Well... surprise, surprise, he is. Foggy, being the best damn friend is his, is discussing some options with the nurses since Matt's in his own head, and is soon pulled out of it when one of the nurses hands over baby Kai to him. Matt immediately becomes a girl dad, falling in love and swearing to the beyond that he'll love and protect this child for as long as he lives. Foggy's secretly happy when he hears Matt wants to keep her, and the flashback ends when him giving her the name: Kaila Jackie Murdock (Got to give his old man some love, am I right?). The story finishes with Karen almost in tears, but Matt reassures her that everything's okay. Especially now that he has the family he secretly always wanted.

Story 3: 'Crossing The Line'. Another personal fav of mine. So this is set in episode seven "Stick". A man named Wilson Fisk has entered the ring, and Matt has earned the nickname 'The Devil of Hell's Kitchen' - Foggy insist that this vigilante is up to no good, while Karen is the opposite - The story splits between Matt and his Mentor, Karen getting herself into trouble, and some Uncle/Niece bonding time.

1. Foggy owes Kaila another showing for the Hunger Games as they both ditch their plans to go find Karen. - They end of finding her, and she takes them to the person she was meeting up with. - Karen reveals that she's been working with Ben Urich to uncover the Union Allied Scandal. 2. Matt soon finds himself meeting Stick again, his asshole mentor who up and left him 20+ years ago. - They end up back in his apartment, where Stick is slowly figuring out that Matt's got someone living with him before asking for his help. The Blind lawyer agrees, which he regrets later on. - A Time skip later, Stick figures out about Kai and insults Matt which causes a massive fight. Matt ends up winning and threatens Stick to never come near his daughter, which ends in laughter and Matt being frustrated that his tainted past is starting to touch his kid.

Story 4: 'I've Got The Devil Inside Me'. Let's add more angst to the plate. The next morning Matt discovers that his partners are investigating Union Allied, much to his dismay, but he agree to help as long as they're "cautious" (Yeah, some big talk from a blind man who fights crime at night). This eventually leads to Matt and his daughter talking after she arrives to the apartment being destroyed, and encourages him to talk to her if something's up. The next day at school, Kaila witnesses Fisk's big speech on TV on how he's declared war on 'The Masked Man'. - This leads to Ben, and the gang trying to figure out what they can dig up to bring Fisk down (And it's certainly not a pretty road) - This also leads to the reveal that Fisk is doing business with a slumlord that's raising a client of theirs rent (Aka: Ms. Cardenas). Out of options, Matt decides to try to get inside the head of the woman Fisk loves the most, Vanessa. Kaila tags along as they try feeling her out at the art gallery she works out. However, Luck's not on their side when the Man of the hour himself arrives, planting himself inside the Murdocks' heads. When Kaila arrives home the next day from school, she finds her father staring at his suit, then engulfs her into a much needed hug. She encourages him to open up again, and he reveals that Ms. Cardenas was killed, and he was filling up with rage to the point he wants to kill the Kingpin. Eventually, she pulls him from those thoughts, and they parted ways as he heads out for the night. This story ends with Matt coming home in the worst state she's possibly seen him in, and just before she can figure out what to do, her Uncle arrives and discovers the family's dirty secret.

Story 5: 'The One Where The Uncle Finds Out'. One of my favorite, but most painful episode to watch. It opens up with Foggy's POV as he stumbles in all buzzed, and demanding they make Fisk pay for what he's done to their client. He gets more than what he bargain for, and it's a race through time for him and his Niece to get Matt stable. They eventually contact Claire who cleans him up. As soon as Matt's up, Foggy can't hold back and demands for answers. The argument starts, and in between that, Foggy makes a decision to lie to Karen that Matt's sick and he can handle it alone. Foggy also learns during their heated moment that his best friend can hear heartbeats, which shatters all the trust he has, and even questions if their friendship was even real. Eventually, while Kai tries to do her homework in the living room, they exploded at each other again. Foggy finally has the guts to ask Matt why he started all this, and his hesitant to spill while his daughter's in the room. Foggy pushes back, saying she has more rights than him to know what's going on, so... she stays as he spills the truth (Which it's more detailed than he initially told Kai). Foggy stares in disbelief when Matt reveals he doesn't want to stop crime fighting, no matter how hard it gets. Foggy tries to pull the "friendship card", which has no affect since this city "needs" the mask vigilante. This results in Foggy telling him to do whatever he wants, and if he gets killed in the process, he'll take Kaila under his wing -- but to remember that he's not her father, and that he'll feel guilty pretending to be. Foggy storms out of the apartment while saying "He would have told Matt he had a crime fighting life". The next few days were interesting - Karen came to visit him after his "car accident" - Claire ended any romance between them - Father Lantom told him that Devil inside him was an angel once, and applies towards him - It was all enough for him to realize he needs to stay alive for the ones he love. He wasn't expecting when he got home for his daughter to still be pissed at him, and leave to spend the night at Karen's for some space. The story ends with the young girl getting taken by Wesley.

Story 6: 'No Good Deed...' Goes unpunished they say. This story shows how much Kaila is like her Dad in a lot of ways. It opens up with Matt calling Karen, wondering if she made to her place since she hadn't texted him. Wesley is revealed to the one to kidnap her, and that she wasn't the originally target, but he was going to make do. He reveals that he's bitter that Karen is like a dog with a bone, and won't let what happen at Union Allied stop her from uncovering the truth. Amused, Kaila taunts, which is cut off quickly when he lays his gun onto the table. He rants on about Karen finding Fisk's mother, which is evidence she can use to bring him down on trial. Kaila then asks why he just doesn't kill her already, which he reveals would be troublesome if he did since she's a daughter of a well respect lawyer, and has ties to a police officer not under Fisk's thumb (Brett). He instead tells her she's offering her a job, a job where she'll convince everyone she knows that Fisk is not the "bad guy". Kaila bites back saying she would never, which Wesley threatens her that he'll kill her family before finishing her. But... something snaps inside her, and as Wesley went to answer his phone, she grabs a hold of the gun, aiming it at him. His poker face is incredible, and tries to play it off that it's unloaded, but she threatens him to stay away and let her leave. She doesn't get far before he tackles her, and proceeds to strangle her. They wrestle around, and fight for the gun which eventually goes off. To her horror she realizes she shot him point blank in the heart. His phone starts ringing again, and Kaila's on the verge of a nervous breakdown as she grabs her belongings and runs away. Kaila shocks Karen when she arrives at her apartment, and spews out what Wesley knew and wanted before revealing that she had killed him by accident. Karen, who seems way too calm for this, tells her she'll take care of it - she disposes the gun in the Hudson and calls Matt that everything's "okay". Karen patches the young girl up, and reveals her trouble past to the girl. They promise each other to keep this a secret from anyone, and Karen promises Kai that she'll be by her side whenever she needs it. The story ends with a guilt filled Kaila meeting a strange boy at a coffee shop, and Foggy rushing in that they found a way to stop Fisk once and for all.

Short Story 1: 'The New Suit'. Season One wraps up with Ben's Funeral, and the troublesome trio allowing Kaila to dip her toes into the dangerous waters that'll bring down Fisk. Eventually, the masked man gets a confession from Detective Hoffman that manages to get the Kingpin behind bars... or so they thought. Their celebration was cut short when Fisk escapes custody, and Matt rushes out to stop him. The story finishes with the lawyer coming home with a victory under his belt... and a new suit (One that Kaila approves). Matt promises he'll be a better father, and Kaila promises she'll open up more. *Foreshadowing Indeed On Both Counts*

|| SEASON 2 ||

I swear with each season there's always more and more angst.

Story 7: 'The Point of No Return (Murdock v Murdock)', Part one of the mini series. - Opens up with months passing after the Lawyers' victory of putting Fisk away. Kai has a job now, a new friend name Jayden, but is unfortunately showing signs of PTSD from the whole killing Wesley situation. Meanwhile, Nelson & Murdock is booming! But the euphoria they all feel ends soon when they're stuck with a strange client, Grotto, who soon gets attacked by the soon be dubbed 'Punisher'. Flash the next morning, Foggy's on his way to the hospital to meet Karen and Grotto, only to run into his niece who's looking for her dad. They soon put two-and-two together, and race across the rooftops to find Matt. They eventually find him disoriented from the gun shot he took to the head. - Later, he wakes up to Foggy scolding him and warning him not to orphan his kid before heading off. Short time after that, Matt goes temporarily deaf, scaring Kai but not really fazing him since he's still in "shape" to be DD tonight. Karen comes by telling them about Grotto and him being "bait" to lure out a big mob boss for the DA. Kaila and her eventually talk, the teenager's guilt about Wesley coming through while her father slips out to fix his suit. - Faking an emergency, Kai gets Matt to come home and this leads to an argument. Heated words are exchanged, and Matt ends up telling her that he wouldn't have to worry about his injures 'if she wasn't here'. Instant regret happens, but nothing more can be said except Kai's FU that ends the story.

Story 8: 'The Darkest Time With Our Thoughts (Murdock v The World)'; Part two of the mini series. Starts off with the house divided, Kai's angry and Matt's depressed (As they both should be). Nelson & Murdock (& Page) are about to head off with DA to watch their client be bait to a mob boss, but due to Matt's mind being elsewhere, Foggy urges him to go home and try to make it up with his kid (Spoiler: He puts the damn costume on instead). - Meanwhile. Kai wants to be left alone, yet life throws her a curveball when a clearly unwell man shows up at her door, asking for her father and Foggy. She soon finds herself fighting for her life, almost getting the upper hand before being taken away (Foggy ends up getting that dreadful call from Brett). Matt suddenly wakes up chained to the rooftop, face-to-face with the Punisher. Matt tries playing detective while Frank basically tells him to STFU. There's a brief heated exchange between them, then Frank gets ready to finish his mission, and was even nice enough to let Matt listen to the voicemails he has before he decides to finish him off. Matt tries to drown them out by moving the chains around to hid his secret ID, but that all changes when the last frantic message from Foggy reveals that someone took his daughter and he needs to get to the police station. The Murdock begs Frank to let him go, and he does. - The story ends with Matt falling apart.

Story 9: 'I'm Trembling, But I'll Protect You (Love v Death)'; Last part of the mini series. The story opens with Kaila having a very interesting dream (I highly suggest you guys at least read that part again, there's a lot of foreshadowing for future stories). She wakes up and is met with her capturer who tells her that he's the brother of Nelson & Murdock's first client, who they apparently failed (Remember this later, also). Meanwhile, the trio is racing through all the paperwork they have to find out who this client is. They three of them have a nice heartfelt talk that ends up striking an idea in Matt. Matt ends up figuring out their first 'official' client was 'John Healy', the man hired by Fisk to kill. Before anything could be done, Matt gets a call from Frank telling him to meet up; He does, surprised to find out that Frank knows where Kai is. This also leads to an early ID reveal with Karen. Matt has a standoff with the kidnapper, negotiating back and forth to by Frank some time to take the shot. Kai is rescued, and the Murdocks shared heartfelt speeches and hugs while Frank disappears into the mist. - Kai's taken to the hospital by Brett (Who unknowingly knows DD's ID) and treated for her leg injury. The story ends with Kai accepting why her father does this job and is happy to be home.

Story 10: 'A Glimmer Amongst The Sinners'. The story opens up with a flashback to 15 years ago, where a young Matt is trying to figure out how to be a father to a baby he can't see (while also trying to find her mother, Mary, for answers). He feels like he's falling off the deep end, but lucky Foggy is there by his side, helping him along the way, which he's forever grateful for. Flash forward to Matt listening to his daughter sleep, happy that she's home. Now, at lot of things happen - Kaila eggs her dad to ask Karen out; Karen digs around about Frank's Past; Frank gets abducted and Matt must find him; Foggy, Kai & Karen head to the Castle house for clues; Then Frank & Matt escape and have a heartfelt moment, leading up to Frank being arrested by Brett who gets a promotion by bringing him in. Oh... the story should end right here, right? Nope! More plot lines! We finally get a Karedevil kiss, which makes Matt get on cloud 9 until his old flame shows up in his apartment. Elektra tries to get Matt to be her lawyer to get her father's money back, which he strongly declines. She then tries pushing back before accidently meeting Kaila. Elektra acts all hurt and broken up when Matt throws her out. The next day goes smoothly in the office, Matt & Karen go on a date, while Foggy tries helping his niece with her friend Jayden who seems to be avoiding her since the kidnapping. Matt has a brief interaction with Elektra again on the phone during his date, he tells her to F off, and him and Karen head back to her place for some romance. The story finishes with Kai coming home to find Jayden ready to talk.

And that wraps this up! I'm finishing the next story as we speak. I'm aiming to release it either by the end of next week or the following. So sorry again this took so long, and thanks for sticking around! ❤️

-Taglist is open if anyone wants to join-

@stinkywhore @invinciblerikkai @glass-ghost

@your-not-invisible-to-me @ohtacosindrome

@mirkwoodshewolf @dreamscandys

@omniromanticbitch @987coley

@hearts4murdock @katnisspeetaprim

@astrobees @cg94 @simpingforpeterparker3000

@cg94 @mattmurdocksstarlight @wolfgirl-205 @hallecarey1 @mademoiselle-marquise-blog

@graciegoeskrazy @magsmilk @bifuriouslatina

@emodruig @skarrkiie @moon22flower @dragonflyreader @thepurpleclown

34 notes · View notes

little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 years ago

Text

The devil in disguise

Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

summary || You are the sweet innocent daughter of Wilson Fisk who has fallen in love with Matt Murdock. Unaware of their private lives, you introduce them.

word count || 2.7k

warnings || nothing really, just a bit angsty. brief mention of violence & blood

a/n || hii, I hope you all enjoy this. I spent a very long time writing and rewriting it. I don’t want to sound like a beg, but Id be very thankful if you gave feedback. this is based on a request. much love💌

masterlist + rules

taglist

Being an artist in New York was a tough job, a city where everyone wanted the same thing- opportunity. In the beginning, you had a bit of a tough run with selling your pieces, you wanted people to buy them because they loved your art and not because of the connections to your well-known father. You loved your dad, but you wanted to do this on your own. You wanted your gallery to be something that you made, not your father.

So after a couple of years, spending hundreds of hours curating your artwork, you were finally able to display them in a mini store that you converted into a gallery.

You have only been open one day and things were already flying off the shelves, selling your most loved artwork for thousands of dollars apiece.

Today, your boyfriend of six months, will finally be meeting your dad at your gallery. You wanted to share this special time with the two people that meant the most to you. Unlocking the doors, your arm linked into Matt’s, leading him through the shop of your most prized work.

“Pass your hand.” You say sweetly, taking his hand in yours. Laying it flat against the canvas on the wall, directing his hand to brush along the mixed media. “You inspired me for this one.” You smile. “If you feel here. There’s a message… I indented the canvas to make braille, and if I got it right… it should say something.” Watching the way his lips turned into a smile.

The bell rings at the door, immediately diverting your attention. “Hello princess.” Your dad greets you, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hi.” You smile, pulling apart to introduce your boyfriend who was looking around uneasily. “Dad, this is Matt, Matt, this is my dad.” You sweetly grin, looking between them with gleaming eyes.

“Pleasure.” He greets your boyfriend, firmly shaking Matt’s hand.

“Good to meet you, sir.” Matt smiles forcefully.

Excitedly screeching, gazing between the two. “Okay- I can’t wait anymore, let me show you around.” Grabbing Matt’s hand to lead him. “Dad follow me.”

You showed them throughout the whole gallery, talking endlessly about the inspiration behind each piece of work, chatting their ears off about every detail.

“Excuse me one moment.” Your dad announces, walking into the back room to answer his phone call.

Matt inconspicuously pulls you aside now that it was just the two of you. “You never told me his name…” Matt quietly asks.

“Oh my goodness- sorry, I completely forgot. It’s Wilson. Sorry, that must’ve been really uncomfortable.” You apologise, placing a sweet kiss on Matt’s now tense cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah- I’m fine. Just you know, meeting your dad.” He partially lies.

“I’m sorry princess, I’ve got to go.” Wilson enters the room, glancing between you and Matt with questioning eyes. His stare penetrated the side of Matt’s face.

“Dad?” You warned, disguising it with a cough. Noticing the way he was looking at Matt.

“Right. I’ll see you soon.” He kisses your cheek before leaving. “If you hurt my little girl…” he turns around to warn, focusing in on your perturbed boyfriend.

Matt has been uneasy around you ever since the day at the gallery a few days ago. You thought it was because your dad frightened him with that scolding, but you didn’t know if it was just that or if there was something else to it. You haven’t seen him since then either, he avoided all your texts and calls, replying hours later with ‘sorry, I was on a case’ or ‘I couldn’t find my phone.’

You had spent the day at your gallery doing inventory and rearranging pieces, quietly enjoying the day to yourself. Taking a seat on the sofa by the wide glass window, zoning out as you gaze at the busy city. Aimlessly scanning around until you notice something out the corner of your eye. It was a car you had seen dozens of times over the last couple of months. You tried not to look at it for too long, never wanting the person inside to acknowledge your awareness.

You picked up an art magazine from the coffee table, opening it and raising it to your face. Peeking your eyes over the top to get a better look at the number plate, and to no surprise, it was the same one you had been seeing everywhere.

Startling yourself when the door opens, the bell ringing obnoxiously. Dropping the magazine, you see your father by the entrance with a solemn expression.

“You okay?” You ask nervously, walking over to him.

“I have some news.” He frowns, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“What is it? You’re scaring me.” Scanning your dad's face for answers.

“I don’t want you to hate me...”

“I won’t, what’s up, tell me.” You push once more.

“I did some digging…” Wilson trails off.

“Yeah?”

“Your boyfriend…”

“What about him?” You snap, desperately needing answers.

“I’m afraid he’s not someone you should trust…Here…” Pulling out his phone to show you a clip.

Staring at the video confused. “I don’t get it- what is it?” Darting your eyes between him and the screen.

“That’s… Daredevil.”

“Yeah, so?”

“That’s your boyfriend…” he says slowly. Masking his lies.

“No, it’s not.” Shaking your head.

“It is. ‘The devil of Hell’s Kitchen’ or whatever he calls himself. He’s a vigilante… and he’s dangerous… he…” he starts.

“‘He’ what?”

“It’s too much...” He closes his eyes, avoiding your surveying gaze.

“Please just tell me.” You plead.

“He… killed your mother.” Intensely staring at the floor.

“What-? Why are you telling me this?” Walking away in disbelief, pacing around. “Why would you say that?”

“There are more videos.” Extending his phone.

“No! I don’t want to see it. How can he do that? Seriously, how? He’s blind.” You defend.

“He was lying about that… it was a cover.”

“Let me see the video.” You demand, snatching the phone from his hand.

Anxiously fiddling with the hem of your dress as you watched the clip of your boyfriend in the red suit. You couldn’t believe your eyes- you didn’t want to believe them.

“I’ve seen enough.” Sliding the phone along the coffee table.

“I’m sorry. I’ll get out of the way.” He frowns, sitting up and leaving without a single look back.

You had decided to close the shop early, feeling too confused to want to be anywhere but home. Right now you wanted nothing more than to slump into the couch and watch shitty tv with a big bag of chips.

When you return to your apartment building, panic settles in when you notice the car again. Unlocking the door with shaky hands, trying your best to keep them still.

“Allow me.” A male voice says from behind. Immediately shuddering and dropping the keys.

“I’m sorry.” Turning around to look at the man. “Just a long day.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been really hard.”

“Yeah.” You exhale, disguising it in a laugh. “Thanks” taking the keys from his hand. “Do you- uh, live around here?” You ask, anxiously looking around.

“No, I was here to see a friend. But I saw you struggling so had to help.” He smiles. “And you are…?”

Telling him your name with a friendly smile.

“I’m Dex.” Shaking your hand. “Good to meet you… I’ll uh- see you around.”

—

After a long hot bath and take-out dinner, you lump yourself onto the couch. Pulling out your phone to see numerous missed calls from Matt. Deciding not to engage, you place it aside.

Frantic knocks pound at your door that startle you upright. Quietly walking over, peeking through the peephole to see Matt anxiously pacing around.

“What?” You snap, whipping the door open.

“I came to see you… you wouldn’t answer my calls.” He gushes, smiling apologetically.

“Not so nice is it?” You say snidely.

“No-“

You cut him off. “I’m not in the mood right now. What do you want?”

“You scared me- you didn’t answer, I thought something bad had happened-” He continues, catching his breath.

Interrupting him again. “Are you actually blind?”

He flashes a confused look, head tilting to the side as if to understand you better. “Yes. Why would you ask that?”

“Wait a second- how did you get here?” You ask, finally putting the pieces together. “If you can’t see… then how did you run here?” You question with a stern whisper, not wanting your neighbours to hear.

“Can I come in?” He asks, avoiding your question.

“No, you can answer from out there.” Placing your hands over his chest to stop him from coming any further.

“What’s going on?” He questions, his face looking puzzled.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“… I don’t know.”

“Who are you?”

His mouth opens but no words are made, gazing at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He snarks, walking past you and into your apartment.

“I didn’t say you can come in.” Forcefully closing the door to follow Matt into your living room.

“Where’s this coming from?” He sadly questions, taking a polite seat on your armchair.

“I saw my dad today…” you start.

He gives you a nod to tell you he’s listening.

“He told me something and… I don’t know.” Burying your head in your hands.

“What’s wrong?” He asks sweetly, rushing over to the seat next to you to console you. Gently stroking over your back.

“Please just tell me who you are.” You quietly ask, your words muffling against your palms.

He deeply sighs, brushing his spare hand through his hair. “I think you know...”

Your back stiffens and your neck twists around to stare holes into Matt’s closed eyes. “You’re ‘him’? You’re Daredevil?” You speak quietly as if to soften the blow. “He was right.” You mumble to yourself.

“Who was right?” He questions.

“My dad- he showed me a video… you’re the devil of Hell’s Kitchen? You killed my mom?” You ask, almost rhetorically.

“Wait a sec-“ he interjects. “I don’t kill anyone.” Shaking his head.

“So you are him?”

“Yeah- but that’s not me.” His face grimaces at the thought. “That’s why I’ve been busy…”

“What do you mean?” You ask warmly as if the haze was clearing and you could finally see a few pieces to the puzzle.

“Your dad… he showed you the clip?”

“Mhm.” You mumble, listening intently.

“Was the person in the suit wearing red?”

“Yeah, like a- like a dark red.” Ears pulling back with intrigue.

“I know this might not make any sense right now, but I need you to understand… I don’t wear that red suit anymore- not after midland circle. That person… he isn’t me.” His face looks as though he’s thinking. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” You reply instantly, not once giving it a second thought because it was the truth.

“I think your dad is framing me.”

“Why?”

“I think he knows who I am, and is setting me up.” Placing a gentle hand on your knee.

“Why would he do that?” You question.

“Because he’s not just a businessman.” He says, almost as if he’s regretting it already. Not wanting to ruin your perception of your father.

“What is he?” Searching his face for more answers.

“I can’t do that to you.” He says sadly, stroking your confused face. “Just… in your phone, type in ‘Kingpin, Hell’s Kitchen’.”

Immediately opening your phone, typing into the search engine, instantly overwhelmed by the dozens of articles. Clicking the top one, reading through an article from the New York Bulletin. Your eyes darting over the words, as your heart thumps in your chest.

Matt laces his hand into yours, stroking his thumb over your skin to calm you down.

“My dads a crimelord?” You question in almost disbelief.

“I’m sorry.” He emphatically comforts, hating the idea of you feeling betrayed by your father.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve been after him for years…“

“Is that why you’re with me?” You sadly ask, already thinking the worst.

“No.” He gushes, cupping your cheek. “God, no. I only found out at your gallery the other day.” He reassures, sweetly brushing over your cheek. “Please come and stay with me for a few days. I don’t think it’s safe here…”

“Can I ask you something?” You almost whisper. Mind is racing and struggling to keep up with everything that’s happened over the last few hours.

“Of course, anything.” Gently placing a stray strand of hair behind your ear and then cupping your jaw.

“If you’re daredevil- the real one… are you really blind? Or is that a cover?”

“I am blind, I lost my sight when I was nine.”

“You can say no, of course. But, I don’t think you’ve actually told me how you lost it. I don’t want to push you, and you can stop me from talking because I feel like I’m blabbering-“

Sweetly smiling at the way you were so considerate with your delivery. “No no, it’s okay.” He interrupts.

Matt thought it was finally time to give you a look into his past, telling you every minor and major event that has happened in his life. Stories about his dad, St Agnes, Maggie, his abilities, what he does as Daredevil, and even about Fisk.

Matt was waiting patiently on the couch while you finished packing your bags; throwing in anything and everything you might need over the next few days.

“I’m ready.” You smile, lugging your bags by the front door.

“You left a light on in there.” Nodding to your en-suite.

Rushing to the bathroom to flick the switch, returning with a grin. “That is amazing.”

Flashing you a wide grin in response, collecting the heaviest bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

When you exit the building, you do a quick look around the street, quickly observing everything. Across the road you spot the car again, squinting your eyes to double-check the number plate. Matt doesn’t know about your potential stalker, to be honest, you didn’t want to worry him. But now you know he’s capable, you decide to finally tell him.

Discreetly covering your mouth to hide what you were about to say. “Matt.” You whisper. “That car… I see it all the time.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, barely moving his lips as he purposely twisted his head to look around.

“I think it’s been following me.”

His face grows stern and rigid, looking as though he’s calculating the situation. Placing your bags to the floor, taking a step onto the sidewalk. Immediately grabbing his arm to stop him from walking any further.

“No- don’t go over.” You plead, trying your hardest to stop him freeing from your grip.

“Wait there.” He sweetly instructs, shaking himself from your grasp.

“No, I’m coming with you.” Chasing after him.

Matt pulls out his stick, tapping it against the ground as he walked down the street, looking around aimlessly until he ‘accidentally’ bumps into the car. The person inside slides down the window “watch it, man.”

“My apologies, I don’t suppose you know the way to Josie’s bar. It’s just… you know.” Raising his arm to show the man his cane.

Watching from the side, you see a familiar man in the wing mirror. Immediately walking over, following after your legs that had a mind of their own.

“Dex?” You question, head tilting to the side in confusion.

He coughs, lowering his cap to hide his face. Stammering on his words.

Matt’s ears pull back in concentration, listening intently. Reaching his hand inside the car, gripping Dex’s neck and yanking him towards the window. Hitting his head with his free hand, as he pulled him through the window and out of the car. “Who are you?” He demands, landing another strike to his face. Instead, he doesn’t do anything, he just tauntingly laughs, purposely trying to provoke Matt.

“Enough.” You shout, pulling Matt off Dex who was laughing hysterically on the floor, blood dripping from his cheek.

“What the fuck was that about?” You grit, ushering him away.

“That’s Special Agent Poindexter.” He starts. Straighten his tie and adjusting his glasses, linking his arm into yours, acting nonchalant.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” You whisper shout, quickly looking over your shoulder check on Dex who was splayed out on the sidewalk.

“Fisk hired him. If I’m right, and I’m sure I am… he’s pretending to be me.” Leading you across the street, and back to your apartment building.

“Wait a second…” letting go of Matt’s arm and halting in your tracks.

“That video my dad showed me… it was a CCTV clip…” pausing as if to complete your thought. “It was outside of my mom’s house… and…” face contorting at the idea. “He had my mom killed?”

sorry for the cliffhanger!! I wasn’t sure how to end this and was hoping that some of you guys could maybe give some ideas. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with Fisk and Dex, and how Matt would work into it. but if you have any ideas I’d love to hear them. I will be doing a part 2, just need some help from you angels first

I think it’s because I’ve been working on this so long my mind has turned to mush😭

but thank you for reading, hope you liked it🤍

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock #matthew murdock x reader #matt my beloved #matt murdock imagine #matthew murdock fanfiction #matthew murdock x you #wilson fisk #ben poindexter #bullseye #daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel fan fiction

316 notes · View notes

swan-of-sunrise · 10 months ago

Text

Hawkeye (Part II)

Summary: Clint reaches out to (Y/N) for help and after a visit with the physically and mentally taxed archer, she takes it upon herself to meet Hawkeye’s #1 fan and impart a little wisdom onto Clint’s young partner.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This week's chapter is a little longer because (a) I'm not sure I'll have Part III finished by next Thursday and (b) You guys deserve it!! There's a surprise character that'll pop up in the second half of this chapter and if you've seen Spider-Man: No Way Home, then I think you'll know who it is lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part II) December 21st, 2024 Apartment of Moira Brandon, East Village (Previous Chapter)

Out of all the Avengers she’d been introduced to during that fateful party at the Avengers Tower so many years ago, (Y/N) always had a secret soft spot for Clint Barton; he was equal parts kind and sarcastic, quickly noting the anxiety she’d been desperately trying to mask from the moment she arrived and taking the time to get to know her while simultaneously directing playful jabs at his fellow teammates. Their first meeting and team-up in the subsequent conflict with Ultron coupled with Natasha’s endless stories from their days of working together at S.H.I.E.L.D. cemented (Y/N)’s unbreakable trust in the archer, and it was that trust that led her to an average-looking East Village apartment building only four days before Christmas with a priceless and top-secret piece of S.W.O.R.D. technology tucked away in her messenger bag.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice, (Y/L/N),” Clint smiled as he ushered her into the temporary safe house, checking up and down the hall before locking the door and leading her into the cozy living room. “See any of those idiot Tracksuits tailing you?”

(Y/N) shrugged her winter coat off and draped it over the back of the couch with a humorless chuckle. “Nope, but I almost wish I had; I could’ve used a good laugh or two after that horrendous traffic jam on the Brooklyn Bridge.” She folded her pink scarf in half and tossed it on top of her coat, meeting Clint’s eyes with a sardonic smirk beginning to spread across her face. “Wouldn’t you know, some dumb-ass archer decided to impale a Pym Particle-infused arrow into the Manhattan Bridge and create commute hell for anyone traveling in or out of Brooklyn?”

Rolling his eyes, Clint flopped down onto the well-worn couch and sighed in exasperation; he looked exhausted, with darkened circles under his eyes and a noticeable cut on his forehead. “Still a smart-ass, I see. For your information, I shot a Pym Particle-infused arrow at a regular arrow and then it impaled itself into the bridge.”

“Well, either way, I thought you’d like to know that Scott got his ass chewed out by Hank for that little stunt,” She replied in amusement and sat herself down on the couch beside him, taking a moment to adjust her sweater over her small baby bump before rummaging through her messenger bag. “Apparently, Hank’s not too fond of his life’s work being used for – and I quote – ‘stupid shit you see on the eleven o’clock news.’”

The archer scoffed at that. “I once saw the guy use Pym Particles to enlarge a goddamn chicken sandwich, but whatever.”

(Y/N) laughed as she withdrew a small metal case and handed it over to Clint. “Back-up hearing aid, as requested; my coworker said that this is one of the best on the market, so you should be well-covered if yours ends up breaking again.” He nodded in thanks and slipped the case into his pocket. Her former teammate’s recent hearing loss as a result of years of work as a S.H.I.E.L.D. spy, Avenger and vigilante inspired her to seek out Brooklyn College’s underfunded but resilient disability resource center; she studied ASL and learned enough to not only begin teaching Steve and Carina, but to also pre-film her lectures for any hard of hearing student who decided to enroll in her Introduction to American Popular Culture course. “And I looked into that socialite guy for you…” Activating the transparent S.W.O.R.D. tablet – a parting gift from Nick Fury before he traveled up to the organization’s newly-built space station – (Y/N) allowed it to scan her handprint and read off the information she’d collected. “Jack Duquesne, born into the obscenely-wealthy Duquesne family that’s apparently descended from European aristocracy. Since he’s seemingly never worked a day in his life, he’s had enough free time to become an expert swordsman and accrue a pretty impressive sword collection; is that what he was doing at that black market auction the other night?”

Clint nodded as he studied the images on the tablet’s screen. “He wanted to add the Ronin’s sword to his collection; according to Kate, he ran off with it after the Tracksuits crashed the auction, and then he almost took my head off with it when we broke into her mom’s penthouse this morning.” When (Y/N) thoughtfully tilted her head to the side, his frown deepened. “What?”

“When I did a little more digging, I found out that Duquesne is listed as the CEO of Sloan Limited. It’s a shell company, one that launders money for none other than-”

“The Tracksuit Mafia…” The archer exhaled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Kate thinks that Jack Duquesne killed his uncle Armand. At first, I thought the idea of him becoming her stepfather someday was clouding her judgement but it’s looking like her instincts might’ve been right.”

Taking note of the stiffness in his movements and the weary tone of his voice, (Y/N) tucked the tablet back into her messenger bag as she gave him a sympathetic smile. “None of what I found out really helped you, did it?”

“It helped, (Y/L/N), it really did…” Clint hastily reassured her. “But I’m no closer to being able to go home for Christmas. I’ve got the suit and the sword, but Maya Lopez and the Tracksuits still have me and Kate connected to the Ronin and there’s a good chance that they’ve got Laura’s Rolex; I can’t leave until I track it down and figure out a way to stop the Tracksuits from targeting Kate, and I’ve gotta do all that before Kingpin gets involved.” He sat back and offered her a small smile. “The Barton Family Christmas hit a little speed-bump, as you can tell, so how’s the Rogers-(Y/L/N) Family Christmas going so far?”

“Well, Carina helped us decorate cookies and gingerbread houses for the vets down at the VA hospital yesterday, and then she decided that our living room wall could use a thick coat of frosting as well.” Clint burst into laughter and (Y/N) couldn’t help but join him. “Steve’s convinced that she’s got the makings of an artist, but I just think she likes to keep us on our toes. And this little gumball…” Beaming, she rubbed a hand across her bump. “Moved for the first time this morning.”

“That’s amazing! Boy or girl?”

“We don’t know yet, but we’re gonna open the envelope my doctor sealed for us together on Christmas Day and find out.” Memories of her first pregnancy and the overwhelming loneliness she struggled with unwittingly came to the forefront of her mind, but she forced herself to ignore them as she continued. “I’ve never really been one for big gender reveals, but after Carina’s…shall we say, unconventional birth and everything we’ve been through since, I just wanted this pregnancy to be special for us.”

A look of understanding crossed Clint’s bruised face, as he was one of the few Avengers who could empathize with desiring balance between a normal family life and the superhero life they’d been thrust into, but he merely smirked and jokingly replied, “Well, if you’re still thinking of baby names, I’ve always thought that Clint Rogers-(Y/L/N) had a nice ring to it.”

(Y/N) snorted in amusement. “Oh, really? You know, I’ve heard the same exact thing about Sam Rogers-(Y/L/N), James Bucky Rogers-(Y/L/N), Bruce Rogers-(Y/L/N), Thor Rogers-(Y/L/N), Korg Rogers-(Y/L/N) and Rocket Rogers-(Y/L/N).”

“I’m not usually one to judge, but I’ll totally judge you if you name your kid after a talking raccoon or a big pile of rocks.” When his chuckles died down, the archer’s blue-grey eyes softened as they looked between her face and the bump she was unconsciously cradling. “I’m really happy for you guys, and I know…I know that Nat and Tony would be, too.”

After flashing him a thankful smile, (Y/N) leaned her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her temple against the palm of her hand. “So, what’s this Kate Bishop like?”

“A pain in my ass,” Clint bluntly replied and when she lightly scoffed at his answer, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m serious! That kid’s cocky, reckless and she talks way too much…but I can’t deny that she’s a damn good archer and her instincts are sharp.” His brow arched as a thoughtful expression crossed his injured features. “You know, she reminds me a little of you, actually; she put that suit on to protect innocent people from the Tracksuits without a single thought for her own safety, just like how you volunteered to help an Air Force vet and a couple of wanted Avengers save the world from Hydra without a single thought for your own safety.”

(Y/N), detecting a hint of concern in her friend’s tone of voice, nodded in understanding. “You’re worried about her.”

Clint nodded. “Damn right I am. You were twenty-seven when you helped Steve, Nat and Sam stop Project Insight, and Kate’s only twenty-two; you understood the risks of getting involved in this sort of life, but Kate…she’s got blinders on. I tried to make her understand that I’m not a role model, that I’m not someone that people should look up to and that this life I’ve led for the past twenty years isn’t a game but like I already told you, she’s cocky and reckless.”

“She doesn’t know about the Ronin, does she?” When Clint shook his head, (Y/N) bit her lip and carefully contemplated her next words before speaking. “Maybe the reason you can’t get through to her is because you haven’t shown her the real you and she can sense that you’re hiding something from her; if you open up to her now, then you might be able to stop her from getting too deep into all this.” He shrugged his shoulder, but she could see that she hadn’t convinced him to confide in his reluctant partner; she glanced down at her wristwatch and hummed to herself. “Well, I should probably head out now if I want to beat the commute traffic to Brooklyn…”

“Yeah, and I should give Laura and the kids a call before I pass out from exhaustion.” Clint helped her to her feet and gave her a fond smile as she pulled her coat and scarf back on. “It’s been good seeing you, (Y/L/N), and I really appreciate your help. Tell Steve that I said hi and that he should totally name his second-born after one of his oldest and coolest friends, okay?”

“Sure thing, Hawkeye,” (Y/N) chuckled, slinging the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder as they walked over to the apartment’s front door and giving her friend a hug, careful of his bruised and battle-worn limbs as she did. “Good luck, Clint. You’re going to fix this and you’re going to make it home for your Barton Family Christmas and on Christmas Day, we’ll give you guys a call to let you know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” With a smile and a teasing salute, Clint opened the door and watched her head towards the building’s elevator before retreating into the temporary safe house.

(Y/N) stepped into the elevator and after the door slid closed, the uneasy feeling that had begun to form when the topic of Kate Bishop came up only seemed to deepen as the elevator descended. It was foolish to further embroil herself in Clint’s struggle against the Tracksuits; not only was she entering her pregnancy’s second trimester but if a powerful man like Kingpin caught wind that she was involved, it could put Steve’s secret life in jeopardy and their family’s safety at risk. But it was Clint’s comparison of Kate to (Y/N) that compelled her to pull the S.W.O.R.D. tablet out of her messenger bag and research the young archer’s cell phone number.

“I sure hope that I’m doing the right thing, Nat,” She murmured under her breath as she worked. “For Kate and for Clint’s sakes…”

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

An hour later, (Y/N) was seated at one of the rickety metal tables outside Greenwich Village’s own Joe’s Pizza, patiently waiting for the twenty-two-year-old to work through her star-struck awe while she enjoyed a slice of pizza and scratched the young archer’s rescue Golden Retriever behind his ear.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I’ve met two Avengers in less than a week! Is this, like, some sort of a superhero test? Or a trial period or somethin’? I mean, I’ve only been in four-ish fights so far…or wait, was it five? I don’t know, I can’t really remember ‘cause I’m pretty much running on caffeine and adrenaline at this point,” Kate nervously chuckled, a little out of breath as she finally stopped rambling and attempted to rearrange her excited features into a nonchalant smile. “…So, um, what can I do for you, Ms. (Y/L/N)?”

“Please, just call me (Y/N).” Smiling, (Y/N) took another bite of her pizza slice and used it to point at Kate. “I’ve heard a lot about you from our mutual friend, so I wanted to meet you for myself.”

The young archer’s brows raised almost comically. “R-Really? Wow, that’s really…was it all good things you heard?”

“Mm-hmm, and I also saw the video of you rescuing this good boy on the news.” The one-eyed Golden Retriever nuzzled his face against her lap and perked up when she tore her slice of pizza in half, wolfing it down in record time once she offered it to him. “He’s lucky that someone as skilled as you came along when you did.” After watching the dog enjoy his chunk of pizza, she looked back up at Kate and sobered as her eyes fixated on the steri-strips that closed the lacerations that were scattered across her youthful face. “Actually, I asked you to meet me here because I wanted to talk to you about this case you’re working with Clint.”

Kate slumped in her seat, a dejected frown beginning to form on her injured face while she took a halfhearted bite of her pepperoni pizza slice. “You think I should stay home and let Clint handle it, don’t you? That’s what my mom thinks, too; she didn’t say anything about it to me, but I know she thinks I’m crazy for doing this. I mean, I’m just a civilian and Clint’s a freaking Avenger, so I guess I see why it’s nuts that I’m helping him out, but I…I can’t just sit back when I know that I can help.”

Smiling a little to herself, (Y/N) dabbed at her lips with a napkin and shook her head. “Kate, I’m the last person on the planet who’d ever tell you to stay home and ignore the instinct to help. I was just a civilian when I helped Steve, Nat and Sam take down Hydra – an unpublished historical-fiction novelist with a part-time job at the V.A., who just so happened to be one of only two people in D.C. that a couple of wanted Avengers could trust. They tried their hardest to make me stay home and out of danger but I refused, because I knew that I could help them. I had to help, no matter what, and nothing they’d say could change my mind.”

“So, you understand why I’m still helping Clint?” The young archer’s expression brightened and she sat up in her seat. “That’s great!” When (Y/N) didn’t immediately answer, her head tilted to the side in confusion. “…Isn’t it?”

“You and I are a lot alike and because I see so much of myself in you, I wanted to tell you what I wish someone had told me ten years ago, when I took my first steps into the life of an Avenger.” (Y/N)’s fingers caressed the content Golden Retriever’s fur, taking small comfort in his calming presence as she continued. “When you choose to spend your life trying to help people, there’s going to be consequences you’ll have to face. Some of the consequences won’t come as a surprise – the fights and battles have taken a physical and mental toll on me, for example, and I’ll have to live with their effects on my body and on my mind for the rest of my life – but others will. From the moment it began, my entire career’s been called into question; you see, people assume that my success is due to my long-time association with the Avengers and not the writing skills I’ve worked my ass off developing and perfecting. I lost any chance at anonymity or a private life when I announced my engagement to Steve Rogers. I became estranged from my family, because they didn’t approve of my relationship or my association with the Avengers. I went through the joy of befriending some of the kindest and most misunderstood people in the world, and then I was forced to mourn them in a way that no one but my fellow Avengers could ever understand; the world lost Iron Man, Black Widow, Black Panther and the Vision, but I lost Tony, Nat, T’Challa and Vis.”

Kate bowed her head and stared down at the discarded pizza crust on her plate. “And you lost Steve, too.”

(Y/N) nodded mutely, careful to keep up the ruse that Steve Rogers died in the Battle of Earth and wasn’t currently wrapping Christmas gifts with their fifteen-month old daughter in their Brooklyn home. “When you face the threats that Clint and I have faced, you have to accept that there’s going to be things that you lose along the way. I don’t tell you any of this to dissuade you, Kate, far from it; I’ve always believed that if you feel that you can help, then it’s your moral obligation to do so.” She reached across the table and rested a comforting hand atop Kate’s, giving her a small smile when her eyes finally met hers. “But it’s important that you know that this life isn’t easy, and it’s only fair that you hear it from one of the only Avengers who stumbled into this life the way you have. Do you understand?”

Kate nodded, and the brief silence that filled the air as (Y/N) finished her slice of pizza was broken by a timid question. “Do you know who the Ronin is?”

“…I know who they used to be,” (Y/N) carefully replied. “But if you want to know more about the Ronin, then you’ll have to ask Clint.”

“Urgh, I knew you’d say something cryptic like that. Hey, what’re Clint’s favorite Christmas movies and does he have any strong opinions about ugly Christmas sweaters?”

After (Y/N) helped Kate plan out the perfect mini-Christmas party for a homesick Clint, she bid the young archer and her energetic Golden Retriever goodbye and watched them both stroll down the sidewalk with a fond smile on her face. It was clear to her that Kate’s heart was in the right place, and that perhaps she was the perfect person to help Clint move on from the Ronin as well as resolve the ongoing conflict with the Tracksuits. I just hope they’ll both stay safe, she thought as she anxiously bit her lower lip and stroked her small baby bump, her mind preoccupied with a myriad of the worst possible outcomes to the archers’ partnership.

“Here you go, Ms. (Y/L/N): one large chicken and olive pizza to go,” The young worker’s sudden appearance shook (Y/N) out of her heavy thoughts and after setting the pizza box down, he started to bus the table with a small smile on his face. “Need any packets of Parmesan cheese or red pepper flakes?”

“No, thank you, I-” (Y/N) cut herself off when her eyes caught sight of a familiar well-worn paperback sticking out of the teenager’s back pocket and she felt herself begin to grin. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a copy of For Queen and Country with its original cover art. How’re you enjoying it?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s one of my favorite books!” The young worker’s gaze briefly met hers as a light blush dusted his cheeks; there was a brief flash of grief in his brown eyes – a deep sort of grief that looked entirely out of place in the eyes of a teenager – but it soon vanished when a bashful expression graced his features. “I’ve been a fan for a pretty long time, Ms. (Y/L/N), and I was actually workin’ up the courage to come out here and ask you for your autograph. I don’t wanna bug you or overstep-”

“Of course I’ll autograph your copy!” (Y/N)’s smile widened as he stammered out a brief thanks and scrambled to hand her the paperback and his server’s pen. “Who should I make it out to?”

“Peter, Peter Parker.” Again, (Y/N) was struck by the strange emotion that flashed across his face, but what gave her pause was the sudden familiarity that his name brought her; she couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the teenager’s name tugged at the far reaches of her mind. Doing her best to shrug the unsettled feeling off, she jotted down a brief greeting and signed her name before blowing on the drying ink and handing the book and pen back with a smile. “Thanks a lot, Ms. (Y/L/N)! It was good seein’ you agai-um, sorry, I think my manager’s callin’ me, happy holidays!”

Peter Parker, who’d abruptly turned as white as a sheet, shoved his book and pen into his pocket and scooped up the dirty dishes before practically sprinting back inside. (Y/N)’s brow arched at his odd shift in behavior, but gathered up her pizza box and strode down the sidewalk to where she’d been lucky enough to park her yellow Volkswagen Bug. After securing the pizza in the car’s front trunk (or ‘frunk,’ as Sam liked to jokingly call it), she carefully climbed into the driver’s seat and waited a moment for the baby to settle down before dialing Steve’s cell phone number.

“Hey, sunshine! How was your visit with Clint?”

“Productive, for the most part; he has an idea of who the middle-man between Kingpin and the Tracksuits is, but he’s still not sure how to stop them from targeting him and his new friend Kate or uncovering Laura’s past. I also had a quick chat with Kate over lunch, which is why I’m bringing home a chicken and olive pizza from Joe’s; you should also know that your offspring conned me into buying it.”

Steve chuckled. “Oh, they did, huh?��

“Mm-hmm, and you should count yourself lucky that it was only pizza; at four months pregnant with Cari, I was craving Flamin’ Hot Cheetos dipped in vanilla ice cream,” (Y/N) snickered as her husband made a sound of disgust on the other end of the call. “Oh, and the strangest thing happened as I was leaving! Do we know a Peter Parker from anywhere?”

“…I don’t think so, but the name sounds awfully familiar.”

“Right? There’s something strange about it but I can’t put my finger on-” A recognizable babbling in the background of the call caused her to stifle a giggle. “Someone’s feeling chatty today, aren’t they?”

“I think that last episode of Sesame Street might’ve riled her up a bit; you know how much she loves when the Count makes an appearance,” Her husband remarked before calling out, “Cari, did you wanna talk to Mama? Mama’s on the phone right now.”

The gibberish grew louder as the infant toddled over and happily exclaimed into the phone. “Mama!”

“Hi, lemon drop! I’ll be home really soon, okay? Mama loves you!” (Y/N) smiled to herself, listening to their daughter’s incoherent mumbling grow faint as Steve regained control of the cell phone. “I should be home in a half an hour or so, depending on how backed up the bridge is.”

“Fingers crossed that all the city’s archers decide to leave the Brooklyn Bridge un-impaled for the afternoon commute.” Steve joked. “You can tell me all about Clint and his new partner over pizza and my famous green smoothies. I love you, sunshine.”

She gave her phone an exaggerated air-kiss that made Steve huff out a quiet laugh. “I love you too, sweetheart, and I’ll see you soon.”

After hanging up the call and tucking her cell phone into her messenger bag, (Y/N) started the car’s engine and turned up the radio, the local station’s Christmas playlist already playing through the speakers. “Okay, gumball, your daddy promised to make us a smoothie, so let’s get this show on the road.”

Pulling away from the curb, (Y/N) hummed along to the upbeat Elton John track in the hopes that the music would distract from the unsettling feeling beginning to take form in the pit of her stomach, but the tune wasn’t enough to make her shake the suspicion that someone was watching her from afar.

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

A/N: Who do you guys think was watching (Y/N)?? You'll have to stay tuned to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Hawkeye (Part III)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345@crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovyqueer @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

27 notes · View notes

aza-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Vote Please

Pick the new cover for blood red

I’m gonna add the tittle soon but with or without

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil x teen!reader #blood red #frank castle x teen!reader #matt murdock x oc #frank castle x reader #kingpin #wilson fisk #natasha romanoff #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock as a dad #matt x teen!reader #frank castle x oc #frank castle #frank castle x daughter!reader #matt Murdock x daughter!reader

22 notes · View notes

lowkeyerror · 6 months ago

Text

The Family Business Ch. 15

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Ch. Notes: Angst, vomit, mentions of phsyical abuse, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death

Summary: After effectively taking care of the Fisk problem, you struggle with the moral reprocussions of that action, while also trying to deal with the truth behind your mother’s death.

An: A little quicker update than last time. Again idk when the next update will be, but just know it's coming. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter it's a soft one.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Your mind can’t seem to latch on to any singular thought. Instead they all run together in a way that makes you wish you couldn’t think at all. You’re to aware of what you’ve done. You can feel the blood, his blood, all over you. His words are bouncing off the walls in your mind. Your legs are unstable and everything feels like its too much.

You don’t get much of a say as your unsteady legs buckle under you, forcing you to your knees. You shake your head left to right as you feel the bile rise in your throat. Puking is the last thing you want to do, and the fear of vomiting makes tears flow down your face.

It's more than that fear. It’s everything that Wilson said before you blew his brains out. He was right, you weren’t ever a Maximoff. Just some fragile kid from a broken home, that wanted to prove themselves no matter what the cost. You couldn’t even be upset at the family, they hadn’t forced you into this lifestyle. This is simply the path you chose to feel like one of them.

You hear footsteps rapidly approaching behind you, you try to find the energy to get to your feet, but fail.

“ Y/n,” her voice makes you feel sick.

You can’t fight it anymore as the contents of your stomach begin to spill out. Wanda is by your side instantly. On of her hands moves your hair out of the way, while the other rubs soothing circles on your back.

Once it was over your breathing is heavy. Your chest heaves up and down, while your hands rest on your thighs.

“Was it true?” is the first thing you say to her.

“Y/n-" you can tell she was trying to reason with you with, to have you drop this for now.

You put distance between the two of you, turning to see her face, “Did you have my mother killed?”

Wanda takes in a large breath, “She was abusing you, every moment she had you. Emotionally torturing you with the death of your brother and physically putting her hands on you. That day when you came over and I patched you up, Pietro told us everything that he knew she did to you. We all agreed, that we wouldn’t let her near you again.”

You don’t know why you felt so bitter about it, but you did, “Killing her was your only option?”

Wanda shakes her head, “No, it wasn’t. We were going to just keep you away from her, but Pietro said the next few days she came to the school looking for you. She threatened him, and followed him to our house, that’s when Papa decided to put an end to it.”

“And my father?”

The woman sighs, “Once we told him who we were, he thought it was best for him to not be involved. He cared for you and loved you tremendously, but he was scared of our family.”

At the end of the day your mother was the cause of an abundance of your trauma and you couldn’t blame your father for not wanting to be involved in a crime syndicate. However, your anger was pointed at the Maximoff’s for keeping this from you for so long.

“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?”

Wanda’s eyes meet yours desperately, “When you were younger, we thought it was inappropriate to share that with you. You were different back then and we didn’t know how you would react. When I left, I figured that eventually they would tell you. When I got back and they hadn’t I was upset. I wanted to tell you, but there’s been so much going on, Y/n believe me. When you asked in car, and I told you to trust me, I was trying to think of the right time. I just- I’m sorry."

As much as you want to be mad at her you can’t. She’s right, Wanda had been gone for over 5 years, how could she have known that they hadn’t told you. As soon as she came back there was basically a turf war going on.

“ I wasn’t supposed to shoot him,” your eyes are blank as they look into hers.

Wanda’s eyes soften, “I know little krolik.”

You shake your head, “But he brought up Lucas and I- he dared me to, so I did. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t my fault.”

You were spiraling quickly. Though you were covered in blood and had just thrown up, Wanda wasted no time wrapping her arms around you.

“I know baby,” she squeezes you tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to kill him,” you sob into the woman.

She scoops you up into her arms, “We’re going home.”

“But, what about-”

Wanda silences you, “Don’t worry about it. They will handle everything else ok, just be here with me.”

You calm for a moment before you remember that Natasha got shot because of your recklessness. You start apologizing again, “I’m sorry, Natasha got hurt because I wasn’t thinking enough. I was being stupid, I should have done better. I should’ve-”

“She’s going to be fine, malyshka. She's been through worse,” Wanda gets you into the car and begins driving home.

By the time you get home, you’ve fallen asleep. Before Wanda gets out of the car she gets a phone call from her wife.

“How is she ?” Are the first words out of Natasha’s mouth.

Wanda has to stop herself from crying as she looks at your current state, “She’s not well, I’m doing my best, but I’m scared.”

“You took her home?”

Wanda nods though the woman can’t see her, “ We just pulled up. She fell asleep on the way, but she might wake up when I try to clean her off. She was throwing up when I found her. She’s worried about you, I’m worried about you.”

Natasha’s voice takes a softer tone, “I’m ok detka. The bullet is out, my arm is patched.”

“Papa and Pietro?”

“We called in Bucky, we’re trying to get a room set up at your parents house that will be suited for your father to do the rest of his recovery there. Pietro, he’s shaken up, worried about you and Y/n.”

Wanda takes in the information, “Natalia, I know I brought you out here to be apart of this with me, but I don’t know if I want this lifestyle anymore.”

As Wanda looks at you, she can see the cons of this life outweighing the pros. You’d already had a rough life before the Maximoff’s took you in, and now they’ve put you in this position where things seem to be just as bad if not worse.

Natasha takes a pause, “We’ll talk about this more when I get home and when Y/n is feeling better ok? I don’t want to make any decisions without her involvement.”

Wanda agrees, “You’re right, hurry back to me moya lyubov.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I love you.”

“I love you."

Wanda sighs as she glances at you in the passenger seat. For a moment, her head falls into her hands. She wants to breakdown, but she holds it all in. With another deep breath she gets out of the car and carries you up to the room.

Wanda goes to lay you on her bed, but you cling to her.

“Y/n, baby it’s ok,” Wanda attempts to coo you.

“The sheets,” you mumble tiredly against her.

Wanda has tears in her eyes as she smiles softly, “ I don’t care about the sheets.”

You cling to the woman tighter in protest, and she doesn’t want to fight with you. Instead she carries you to the bathroom and sits you on the counter. You lean your back against the wall eyes barely open, but still able to see the woman running water for a shower.

Wanda turns back to you her hands tremble a bit as the grip the end of your blood and vomit covered shirt.

“Sorry, it’s gross,” you mumble.

She shakes her head,” I don’t care. Is it ok if I take this off of you?”

Your eyes open wider to meet hers properly, nodding slowly.

When she removes the shirt, her eyes linger on the scar on your abdomen from the day you left home. Her finger couldn’t help but to glide over the rigged skin.

“It needed a stitch back then, but I didn't want to see you in anymore pain. It probably wouldn't have scarred if I did,” Wanda reveals absent-mindedly.

“It’s my favorite scar, I’m glad I have it,” you find her eyes as you speak.

“Why?”

You look away from her, feeling shy for a moment, “ I remember you letting me rest my head on your shoulder and promising that the family would protect me."

Wanda frowns, “I’m sorry, we didn’t protect you enough.”

You take her hand, “I’m sorry I’m so hard to protect.”

“No, don't do that Y/n. We lied to you, I lied to you for years. Telling you truth wasn’t some Olympic sized task. It’s the least we could've done and it's what you deserved. Our- my carelessness lead you down this unnecessary path of pain, and I’m sorry. I should've done better,” you listen as Wanda berates herself unable to look you in the eyes.

“You weren't here, Wanda.”

“I should’ve been.”

You want to do something to give her comfort but you feel disgusting in your current state. Your eyes dart over to the shower and it's as if to remember why you were in this position to begin with. Wanda sees your movements and takes a small step back from you.

“Do you still need help?”

You think for a long moment, hesitation heavy in the air. Part of you wants to push her away now that you have your bearings a bit more. However a larger part of you wants the woman to help you in the shower

“Yes,” it’s breathy as it leaves your mouth.

Your hands guide hers to the button on your pants. She pulls them down gently. Wanda hesitates at the sight of your underwear. You attempt to hop off of the counter, Wanda’s hands find your hips to better guide you.

It's two swift motions as you remove your underwear. You stand before the redhead bare for the first time in this way. You stare at her waiting for something to happen. She sense the expectancy in your gaze and begins undressing.

Once the last of her clothing hits the floor she takes your hand and leads you to the shower. You enter first and she goes in after. The water against your skin feels good. It cascades from your face down your body washing away the gunk in the process.

Wanda doesn’t make a sound as she begins to wash your body. Her hands light and delicate against your skin. The only objective being getting you clean. Once you’re clean she spins you around and places a kiss on your forehead.

“I don't know how I feel,” you tell her honestly.

She takes a step back from you. You’re quick to grab her wrist and pull her back into you, “I just know that I want you close.”

She reached behind you to turn off the shower. “As long as you want me close, I won’t ever leave you again.”

You rest your head on her chest, her arms enclose around you once again. The sound of her heart beating calms you deeply. You could fall asleep right there.

“Let’s finish getting ready and then we can get in bed,” Wanda rambles against your head.

You nod against her and after a deep breath you both exit the shower. Once you’re dry and dressed for bed, you finally brush your teeth. You climb into the bed, but you’re wide awake.

Peace nowhere to be found as a million questions race through your head.

“I didn’t mean-"

“He deserved it, Y/n. He tried to kill papa, he had you beaten, he shot Natasha, he wasn’t a good man,” Wanda reassures you.

You shake your head, knees pulling closer to your chest, “Lucas is dead because of me.”

“That’s not true lisichka.”

Your eyes are quick to dart over to Natasha but you don’t move. Your gaze falls to her injured arm, and it’s yet another injury due to your carelessness.

“ I sent you in there and-”

“And I’m fine because you saved me. In fact you saved everyone in that room tonight,” Natasha doesn’t hesitate to crouch down beside the bed.

You frown, “No matter how many people I save, I can never go back and save Lucas.”

Natasha looks at Wanda for some kind of insight into who Lucas is to you, what he means to you.

“Lucas was my older brother, he would still be here if I hadn’t been so careless.”

Wanda disputes this, “You were a child, Y/n. Your parents should’ve been watching you.”

“I have this scar on the back of my head from where skull hit the concrete. A constant reminder that he’s not here and I am.”

Natasha takes one of your hands in hers, “ To me, it sounds like you went through something really traumatic as a child. Not just losing your brother, but also almost dying in the process. Going through that without the support of your parents makes it even harder to come to terms with.”

“Natasha’s right, Y/n. You’re a victim in all of this, and going through this alone was never fair to you. You didn't kill your brother, neglect did,” Wanda takes your free hand.

“My mom never stopped blaming me.”

“She should’ve never started. To abuse one child after the loss of another is a cruelty that only a monster is capable of Y/n,” Natasha’s words are a statement.

“But did she deserve to die?” You turn your attention to Wanda.

“How many times did she hit you? How many times did she starve you? How many times did she verbally abuse you? How many scars do you have because of her?” Natasha draws your attention back to her.

“Maybe she didn’t deserve to die, but she didn’t deserve to have that power of you. She didn’t deserve to torment you for the rest of your life. You couldn’t go out without looking over your shoulder, you flinched at every touch, and she had you thinking you were a mistake or a burden. You were just a child,” Wanda’s voice trembles as she speaks.

Natasha takes over again, “A mother doesn’t treat a child in the way that she treated you. That woman barely viewed you as her child, she doesn’t deserve your sympathy even in death.”

Your body begins to shake as the tears cascade down your face. You feel two sets of arms enclose you as you cry. They were right about your mother, she was an awful person. The more you thought about it the harder it was to think about anything good about her. After your brother died, you had no kind memories of your mother left. She was cruel, ruthless, and unforgiving.

After all these years, you never missed her. You hardly thought about her and when you did it was against your will. Her memory has haunted and tortured you since she has been out of your life.

“We have you, Y/n. For as long as you want us to, “ Natasha is gentle as she wipes away your fallen tears.

“We’re going to have to talk about this, with everyone,” you attempt regain your composure .

“We will be by your side, no matter what,” Wanda insists.

“Not just about my mom, but about Kingpin.”

Natasha nods, “Yes, but only when you’re ready. There’s no rush for these talks or conversations. With Dragos awake now, this problem isn’t falling straight onto your shoulders anymore.”

“Our main priority is you. Y/n, for once in our lives I think it’s time that the family business takes a backseat” Wanda adds on.

The idea plays in your mind briefly. A life where the most important thing wasn’t this job. No more missions, no more hacking, and no more danger. The thought would’ve bored you before, but now with Natasha and Wanda by your side, it seemed more desirable.

You nod, “Ok.”

“We love you lisichka,” Natasha gently kisses your forehead.

Wanda follows suit, “More than anything.”

The small smile plays on your lips, “I love you too, the both of you.”

It’s a brief moment as you swiftly place your lips on Wanda’s followed by Natasha’s, before quick passing out from the exhaustion of the day.

“I know that look detka. Everything is going to be alright, I promise,” Natasha says, looking at her wife’s worried expression.

“She deserves better Natasha, I have to do better,” Wanda keeps her own tears at bay.

“You aren't in this alone Wanda. I’m here, lean on me, together we can build something that Y/n truly deserves.”

Natasha interlocks her fingers with Wanda’s, “I love you.”

Wanda kisses the back of her wife’s hand, “I love you too.”

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989 @falloutboy-lover

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader

350 notes · View notes

diorcities · 9 days ago

Text

with you (teaser)

spiderverse chronicles. haechan x reader, mark x reader genre fluff, action, mature content content spiderman au, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, selective mutism, sign language, smut (not in the teaser) more tba teaser wc 1.5k full fic est. 20k

an: since i'm making progress on the story (shocking) i'll share a little teaser. the past few days i've consumed a lot of spiderman content, it's not funny anymore. it was a sign of the times. i'm so excited to write this. happy reading ♡

description: after a catastrophic scientific explosion, chaos is unleashed in new york. a deaf girl must face the city that she once knew now submerged in a mayhem, pairing with a daily bugle intern to try to solve the mystery when one of the many affected with extraordinary abilities seems to have a duplicity between good and evil.

he can sense you're there.

just moments ago he had swept the area, now, he looks intently at the boxes loaded into the helicopter.

“planning on stealing the moon tonight?” he's growing bored. “you guys aren't elusive at all, you should practice a little at that.”

the ambiguity of his own reaction puzzles him. there was no hurry in his movements, nor the usual tension. instead, there was a deliberate pause, and this unbearable boredom.

he's quick to deflect a couple of bullets; it comes out spontaneously now. all his senses are enriched. everything vibrates. everything sings. he's sneaky instead of a fighter. and he's also fond to make jokes at inopportune times.

“isn't this labor exploitation?” he inquires. “i hope you get paid overtime,” he says again when in response, a dozen men point their guns at him. he reacts shooting his hands upwards.

“easy, i'm your friendly neighbor.” a man turns to him. the big fish. “oh, my bad, i mistook you for some lookalike with a bunch of small yellow people.” he also doesn't miss the opportunity to make an emphasis on his size.

wilson kingpin snorts, annoyed. “after months, i'd think you'd stop acting like a kid.”

“i am a kid.” he chuckles, removing the mask.

there was no point in hiding his identity when the old crow knew who he was from the very beginning, though it also made him a prospect for his tasteless jokes.

he takes a look at the containers when the man turns his back at him and shout instructions. “nano-technology prototypes...” his voice comes out in an interrogatory tone, sniffing through the large box.

the man in charge sees him snooping around when he speaks. “are you interested?”

“they wouldn't hurt,” he replies, distracted; something stirs inside him when you move closer.

“take a few, see if you put it to good use.” he sneers and he mimics him, nonchalantly.

he's pretty quick and elusive. skills, he guesses, his best traits; but even though, he might need some; he's been doing alchemy lately, so he grabs two and when the man looks away, grabs a few more. he can put good use to that kind of technology. “any other tasks you need me to do?”

he bristles when the man smiles, agreeing; he's been waiting for the moment. doing silly tasks, dirty work. finally he was getting closer to get what he wants. “yes. why don't you take care of that little reporter mouse?”

fisk goes back to his job as if he's bored, and his lips tighten into a grimace that he already knows, making him take care of you.

“was this what you wanted, to steal technology?” you ask to the wind. the men hardly pay attention to you, but he does.

he must acknowledge that you have guts even though fisk is giving you a window because you don't pose a threat. not because of his size, but because of his influence.

“what's in the boxes?”

“as if i were going to tell you.” he mocks, hiding behind the mask. “why don't you cover tonight's weather instead, family of murderers?” he sees you freeze. “why don't you leave these matters to us and you take care of yours? seems like you're in deep shit,” he says, taking one step closer.

when you realize it, he's in front of you and you have nowhere to run. yet your feet recede to the edge. “mmm? don't test your luck and stay out of it.”

he gives you recognition that you don't look even a little intimidated. “who are you?”

his smile almost reach his eyes, “as if i were going to tell you,” he repeats, morbid.

fisk growls behind you, and something dark spreads on his gut, “get done with it, bug.”

he does what he says. first, he steals it from you in one move. and you're not quick to protest when his hands half-push you and your feet stumble. doing silly tasks, dirty work. one more thing and it will end.

nevertheless, getting rid of you is hard for him.

your hands try to hold on but he pulls away, so you fall into nothing.

like a bullet, he watches you fall, waiting. and when a blue boost barely flashes around you, he moves away from the edge. afterward, you just fall into new york.

#mark x you #haechan x you #mark lee au #haechan au #haechan angst #mark lee angst #mark fluff #haechan fluff #haechan smut #mark smut

122 notes · View notes

ramen-flavored · 1 year ago

Text

youtube

I honestly haven’t been this excited for a Marvel project in a while till now

72 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 6 months ago

Text

Inescapable (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is the events that ties in with this thing here :)

Please enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, SMUT, public smut, fingering, grinding, LOTS of dirty talk, daddy kink (cause I'm me), female masturbation, handjob (m & m), ANGST, cheating (reader is in a relationship), mentions of her parents not approving of her talking to the guys, reader also mentions bf parents don't like her, readers bf interviews the guys and vaguely mentions things from season 4 like the deaths and starts a fight with them, boys get jealous and angry when promises are broken, cliffhanger ending (because I can :) ).

Word Count: 8533

"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)

September 1996

The longer you waited for the system to transfer your call to their cellblock the more your nerves continued to build.

You had been corresponding with convicts Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington for almost two months so it wasn’t like this was your first time talking to them but there were so many different factors that made you anxious.

Becoming a lawyer was all you ever wanted to be and you constantly felt like you had to prove yourself since your family was so desperate for you to become anything else. When you were told to pick a case, everyone in your class chose the obvious candidates making your eyes roll especially since there was no challenge in it. So many well-known cases had not only evidence but confessions from the defendant saying that they did the crimes. Manson and Gacy had done interviews constantly incriminating themselves.

Eddie and Steve never once accepted any kind of invitation to do an interview whether it be media or print and they never once changed their stories even in the letters they wrote. A plea deal had been offered for them to plead guilty with Steve serving only 10 years and Eddie with 15 but they declined insisting on their innocence.

The evidence was lack luster at best and it killed you that their lawyer didn’t do a better job at defending them. You genuinely believed them and what they told you. Add in the fact that their demeanors in their writing never conveyed any kind of hostility or rudeness.

Both men were always polite and answered any questions you had. They could be intimidating at times but you thought maybe it was just because they were older than you and stuck in a place they never should have been.

Oddly enough though, you felt safe with them.

“Hey, Y/N?”, a soft voice flowed through your ears.

“Yeah, um, hey. Hi. Is this, um, who is this?”

“I’m Steve and Eddie’s on the phone next to me. The prison has a way for three-way calls but don’t worry. We can pay for those fees.”, the man responds hoping to calm your nerves.

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s good to hear your voice finally.”, Eddie exhales heavily.

Blinking, you hear what sounds like one of them being hit as Steve scolds his friend.

“Stop it. You’re going to scare her.”

“He’s not…I’m not scared. It’s alright, I just…this is all new to me.”

“What? You didn’t expect to be on the phone with convicted killers?”, Eddie replied bluntly making you laugh a little when you heard the other man sigh in frustration. “You’re going to have to get used to it with you wanting to be a lawyer. Unless you want to be lawyer like Steve’s dad.”

“Oh, no thank you. Tax law isn’t exactly stimulating to say the least.”, you giggle.

“Ah, I see you tried to reach out to my father.”

“Um, I did. I hope that’s ok. You didn’t say I couldn’t—”

“No, honey. It’s absolutely fine. I say tried because I imagine he ignored you?”

“He didn’t ignore me exactly. I told him I was a law student…I just left out exactly what type of law I was studying.”, you wince on the other end fearing it may alliant him before sighing in relief when they both laugh. “When I started asking about your case he politely told me to fuck off and your mom didn’t answer my calls.”

“How does one politely tell someone to fuck off?”, Eddie asked.

“He’s got his ways. I’m sorry he was rude, Y/N.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m kind of used to parents talking down to me.”

“Baby? Are you hungry?! Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as your boyfriend called to you in the background immediately silencing the men on the line.

“Uh, no, Derek. I’m not hungry right now but maybe later?” After nodding, he disappears into your shared bedroom. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“No problem. Isn’t it like nine o’clock? You need to eat something, sweetheart.”

“It’s ok, Mr. Mun—Eddie…I had a big lunch.”

We’ve been writing for two months and you still struggle using our names?”, the man laughs. “You start your letters with ‘em!”

“I know. I know but it’s different.”

“Well, let’s shake out those nerves because I have a feeling we’re going to be friends for a while. You’re Y/N. Who are we?”, Steve instructs with a calm tone that makes you blush. “Come on, pretty girl. Who are we?”

“Steve. Steve and Eddie.”

“Good. Very good. Now can you say it a bit more confidently?”

Glancing around you, you make sure your boyfriend isn’t within earshot before sighing and replying, “You’re Eddie and Steve.”

“You have five more minute on this call.”

The automated voice startled you as you listened to them heavily exhale in annoyance.

“Alright, princess. We’ll…we’ll let you go but feel free to call us whenever. Like I said…It was so nice to hear your voice. Compared to all the bullshit we hear in here…it’s a nice reprieve.”

You hear a line disconnect thinking they both suddenly disconnected before Steve’s voice flowed through.

“All of this has been really hard on him, you know?”

“I can’t imagine…”

“But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since we’ve heard a kind voice directed our way especially one as calming as yours… But, yeah, um, Eddie said call whenever but you know—”

“I can’t call after 10:30pm.”

“You got it, hon. Have a good night and we’ll talk to you later.”

“Good night, Steve”

##########################

December 22, 1996

“Don’t let my uncle forget to give you the present we got you! We went to every store to find the perfect gift!”

You laughed hard at Eddie’s joke as Steve sighed in fake frustration into the phone.

“Ok we didn’t but we did scan the Sears catalogue Wayne brought when he came to see us.”

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Pfft, please. You’re our friend and you said you got us something so sue us.” You softly smiled when you heard Steve’s smile flow through. You imagined this time of year was exceptionally hard for them and wanted to do what you could, growing fond of them after all this time. “Are you still visiting Derek’s parents for Christmas?”

“That is the plan but I’m a bit nervous. This is my first time meeting them and I’m afraid they won’t like me.”

“Sweetheart, have you met you? They’re going to love you!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

This wasn’t the first time another inmate had interrupted their call. They explained to you that while the phones were in a private-ish area, the common area was still nearby. You never told them but you could hear the immediate change in their demeanor when it happened and it killed you. It was as if their old personalities would leak through before prison reminded them where they were.

You wished you could have met the men they were before being incarcerated.

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N. Everyone is a bit amped up with the holidays around the corner. He’s not wrong though. If Derek’s parents don’t like you than fuck them because obviously somethings wrong with them.”

“Steve? You don’t have to always do that… pretend like everything’s ok. Not with me.”

The silence on the other end was heavy but you could hear their steady breathing as they thought about what you were saying.

“I have to. Not just for you but me to. If I don’t downplay it then—”

“We’re reminded that we are actually in a fucking prison we don’t deserve to be in.”, Eddie added breaking your heart.

“I wish there was something I could do.”, you whisper.

“Baby, you have no idea how much you do just by being you. We don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, Eddie. You and Steve don’t deserve the hell you’ve been through. I wish I could at least hug you both.”

Again, both men were silent and the only sound you heard was your boyfriend in your bedroom as he finished packing the last of his things for your trip.

“We wish we could hug you to, honey.”

“Yeah especially with the way your letters smell I always imagine you smell exactly the same…so fucking sweet…just like you.”

Their voices had dropped to a register you had never heard from either man before let alone any man in your lifetime. The sound had your heart fluttering as you licked your lips and exhaled.

“Are you, Y/N?”

“Am I what, Eddie?”

“Are you sweet?”

“You have five more minutes on this call.”

“Baby?! I got everything packed but I’m not sure if I’m missing something!”, your boyfriend shouts making you gasp as you jump.

“Fuck. Um, I have to go. I’ll call you guys when I can ok? Bye!”

Before they even say a word, you hastily hang up the phone.

########################

January 12th, 1997

Biting the skin beside your nail, you glance at the other people in the visitor’s center waiting to see other inmates. Some women were dressed in low cut shirts showing off their cleavage making you a bit self-conscious as you adjusted the slightly baggy sweater hanging off your body. This was your first time physically meeting Eddie and Steve and you weren’t sure why but you wanted to make a good impression.

Quickly throwing your sweater to the side, you fixed your hair before straightening the long sleeve shirt underneath that fit a bit better to your form. Not wanting to seem too eager, you chose jeans telling yourself it was also due to the cold weather.

You weren’t sure if you could bring anything but to be honest you weren’t even sure what would be appropriate. When you met Derek’s parents you brought a dessert that no one ate except your boyfriend as his mother constantly stared daggers at you from across the table. When you went to see your parents, you showed up with small gifts that they always seemed to awkwardly thank you for before giving you gifts as well that were things you could never use. Oddly enough the only person to react positively to you showing up with an item was Eddie’s uncle whose eyes lit up when you appeared at his front door with cake you made. You both shared it as he talked to you about holidays at the Munson household and answered some of the questions you had.

What do you bring to people who lost their freedom?

Inmates began slowly entering the room and the sudden sounds of partners and parents sobbing as they embraced them overwhelmed you as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Y/N?”

When you opened your them again you were met with two tall men towering you. You had read about them constantly and seen their pictures numerus time in different place but having them both in front of you now abruptly overloaded your brain as you rose to your feet.

They still physically looked more or less the same than the day they were arrested 10 years ago except Steve had a bit more facial hair and Eddie seemed to have more tattoos on his arms. Under their short sleeve white shirts, you could see their muscular arms and abs, again making you self-conscious as you pulled at the bottom of garment without looking. Steve’s hair was a bit longer but a bit frayed as if he had been running his fingers through it before coming into the room while Eddie’s long hair was pulled back out of his face showing off his soft features.

“Is everything ok? You look scared. Don’t worry, honey, you’re safe in here. No one is going to UMPH—”

Steve’s hands flew up in surprise when you jerked forward and your arms wrapped around his waist. It took him a moment before his own limbs finally circled around you as his cheek rested on top of your head.

“Fuck me… It’s been so long since anyone except Ed has hugged me.”

At the sound of his name, you released the one man to move to the other who without hesitation took you in his embrace and clung to you tightly as his fingers tangled in your hair.

Feeling his hands shake against you, you pulled back into time to hear him clear his throat as he turned away from you to run his palms over his face.

“Sorry, yeah, it’s been a while since anyone has come to see us. Well, except for Wayne.”

Their eyes never leave you as you take a seat and they follow you down making sure to keep their distance until you felt more comfortable.

“I like Wayne. He’s been incredibly kind to me since I met him. Not that everyone else hasn’t…just hard to get a hold of people. Especially Nancy Wheeler and Dustin Henderson since they no longer live in Hawkins.” Shifting your gaze their way, you notice them staring at you with small smiles on their faces. “I’m sorry. I’m, um, babbling a bit. I’m just a little nervous I guess. Plus, you’re not what I was expecting…aaaaand I’m doing it again. Ok.”

Eddie’s hand gently reaches out to grasp your forearm that was resting on the table.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“What do you mean by ‘not what you were expecting’?”, Steve smirks. “Were you thinking orange jumpsuits and tattoos on our faces?”

“No.”, you giggle. “I don’t know. I guess when you’re only familiar with pictures…seeing someone in person…”

“Yeah, we know the feeling.”, the long-haired man beams your way. “I was right by the way. You smell intoxicating.”

***

February 10th, 1997

You smile as both men continue to laugh at joke Eddie had made while they continue to nibble on the food you brought them.

“I’m surprised they let you bring this in. Did you drug them with your own set of like pot brownies or—”

“Shhhh!”, you giggle as your hand reaches up to silence the metalhead who casually tilts back and captures it with his own making a silent mental note that you don’t pull away. “The guards here actually aren’t too bad. At first I was afraid to ask but when I did they told me it was ok to bring desserts but they have to inspect it, of course, and then it can’t be in like any glass.”

“And you said you brought this to Derek’s parents and they didn’t like it? I think these brownies are delicious.”, Steve grinned as he sucked some of the remaining chocolate off his thumb.

“It’s not that they didn’t like it, they just don’t like me.” As you nervously chuckle and glance towards the window, Eddie’s own thumb caresses your skin comfortingly as the other man slides a bit closer to you when he hears the change in your voice. “Before me, Derek was dating this particular girl that his family found more fitting. Kind of like your parents Steve, his are high society and they’ve told him countless times that I’m ‘not a good fit’.”

“The fuck does that mean? You’re perfect.”

“Naw, Ed. Not to the ‘Hawkins Elite’.”, Steve sighs. “My dad was the same. Perfect to them had a particular meaning. It’s fucking stupid because you are an amazing woman.”

Your eyes lock with his as you thank them; his gorgeous honey irises burning into yours. When you notice Eddie is taking you in as well, you laugh hoping to break the tension that had suddenly built as you pulled your hand out of his grasp.

“It’s…It’s not a big deal. He made sure that night to show me how appreciated I am on the dining room table so.” Your face promptly flushes with embarrassment as you try to hide behind your palms. “Why the fuck did I just say that?”

When you finally found the confidence to look their way, you noticed they were still staring at you but something else had replaced the earlier look in their eyes. Was that…jealousy?

“Is that the kind of thing that gets you off? Doing something you shouldn’t?”

Trying to brush it off (and ignore the sexy sound of the husky drop in Eddie’s voice), you smirked as you lazily shrugged.

“Isn’t everyone to an extent?”

“Hm…but not everyone is you.”

“Steve—”

“Y/N.” At the sound of your name, you closed your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, you lick your lips and lean forward till your forehead lands on his.

“This is wrong.”

“You like that though don’t you, pretty girl?” His humid breath warms your tongue as you subtly open your mouth to contain the strong need to melt into the soft sound of his voice. “I bet if I put my hand between your legs that little pussy would be dripping.”

Closing the distance, his lips mingle gently with yours as his large palm cups your cheek. You can feel in his kiss that he’s holding back and the flutters in your stomach desperately want more. Another set of hands takes hold of your face and you’re met with another set of lips that taste like strong nicotine and sin.

“Fuck, you taste so good. Does he appreciate you, sweetheart? You deserve to be worshipped.”

“Eddie…I—”

“Munson! Harrington! Why don’t you share, huh?!”, another inmate yelled pulling you back into the reality of your situation.

“Fuck off!”, the metalhead shouted immediately rising to his feet when the other prisoner did the same.

“Ok, ok, ok.”, Steve tried to deescalate as he quickly stood up and placed himself between both men. “Come on now, guys. Let’s just focus on our own visitors ok?”

Eddie and the man continued to stare each other down before turning back towards their table but to both their dismay you were gone.

***

February 16th, 1997

“Hey, honey. Is everything alright? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sniffled into your phone as you pulled your knees to your chin.

“Yeah, I’m alright, Steve. I, um, I just got into a fight with Derek and he stormed out.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You can talk to us about it if you want to. We’re here for you.”, Eddie coos hating that he can’t just pull you to his chest and comfort you.

“He thinks…I’m too invested in you two. That I spend too much time talking to you and visiting. He…he wants me to stop talking to you. Maybe—Maybe I should.”

“If…if that’s what you want, baby girl. We don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“Do you WANT to stop seeing us?”

“No.”, you sobbed making the metalhead’s heart burst when you didn’t hesitate. “I like talking to you. You both make me feel safe.”

“You know we’d never hurt you, Y/N. Not unless you wanted us to that is.”

When you laughed at his statement both men let out a sigh of relief.

“What else do we make you feel, pretty girl? Besides safe.”, Steve asked. When you didn’t immediately respond, he took over as he lowered his voice. “Come on, baby. Tell us. Do we make you feel appreciated? Loved? Needed?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Do we give you tingles all over your body?”

“Yes. Fucking everywhere.”, you chuckled making the man smile.

“Even between those sexy legs?”, Eddie adds, biting his lip when he hears your heavy breath. “Can you do us a favor, princess, and run those soft hands between your pussy? Don’t put them inside you though. Just tell us how wet you are.”

You don’t know why but as the brain fog takes over you do what they ask and slid your fingers between your folds making a loud squelching noise as the pads graze your clit.

“F-Fuck…I’m—I’m soaked. I like the way you two talk to me.”

“Hm. Never had a man tell you what he wants? Trust us, honey. We fucking dream about how good our cocks would feel buried inside you. If we were free you’d never keep us off you.”, Steve groans feeling himself stiffen in his pants. “We know you like doing things you’re not supposed to. Maybe we’d show up at your school and fuck you in the library while you try to keep from screaming about how you can feel me in your stomach.”

“Steve…please…”

“Go ahead, Y/N. Push two of your fingers in that tight little cunt and pretend it’s you fully seated on top on me in the back of your class as you try to pay attention. At most you can warm my cock the entire time until everyone leaves. I bet you’d like that, sweetheart, huh?”

“Mmm—yes, Eddie, I’d like that.”, you pant as you roll your hips.

“Jesus Christ, I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, baby, please.”

“Oh God—fuck—I’m gonna…”

You moan both their names repeatedly as the coil snaps and you ride out your high as they listen to your heavy breaths.

“Such a good girl. You alright, honey?”

“Yeah… I just…I wish I could hold you.”

“We know, baby. Fuck do we know especially with what you’ve been through tonight but we’re going to see you really soon right?”

“In a few days, yeah, but I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s ok.”

“Of course, princess. You can call us whenever you need to.”

################

April 19th, 1997

Eddie’s palm held down the corner of your textbook as the wind blew around you.

Since it wasn’t as cold outside today you were able to visit with them outside near the courtyard at a picnic table under a nearby tree. You told them you were studying for an exam and they insisted you bring your materials thinking they could be of more help.

“I mean we were punished by the criminal judicial system so you’d think we’d know some of this stuff.”, Steve chuckles.

“I know a lot of it but when it comes to tests I struggle to retain any of it. It’s like I just panic sometimes.”

“I always had trouble focusing.”, the metalhead adds. “That’s why I failed so much. Oddly enough the GED wasn’t as difficult.”

“When you get out would you want to go to college?”

“Oh, sweetheart. What school would take me when I get out of here?”

“Eddie…”

“He’s got a point, babe. I tried so hard to get into a university after I graduated and even with my sports record no one wanted me. I doubt a prison record will make that easier.”

“That makes me so angry.”, you growl. “You two didn’t do anything wrong. When is your next appeal?”

“Mine is in a month and his is in three.”, Steve sighed. “Let’s not talk about that right now. How are you, Y/N? Beside the tests and school, I mean.”

“Everything’s ok. My relationship with Derek has been a bit strained. He went with me to visit my dad and my father just grilled him the moment he walked in. To remove the focus off of him, he told him that I’ve been visiting you two. That, um, that didn’t go so well.”

“What happened?”

“He just…he doesn’t approve.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, what did he say?”, Eddie soothed as he shifted his body closer to yours.

“He’s afraid you’re going to kill me like that girl.”, you murmured, panicking slightly when you see the metalhead’s jaw tighten. “You know I’m not afraid of you right? I know you’d never hurt me like that.”

“We know, baby. We know.”, Steve coos as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I wish I could do something to help.”, you reply in that small voice that drives them crazy.

After quickly taking a look around, he glances down at your skirt and without warning subtly lifts your body as he adjusts it so its further up your thighs. Grasping your leg, Steve lifts it over his own and Eddie slides over till he’s pressed up to your opposite side.

“Keep looking at your notebooks, honey. Don’t lift those pretty eyes from the paper unless we say ok?”

“Ok.”, you answer breathlessly as excited nerves fill your tummy.

“Good girl.”, Steve praises as he kisses your cheek and you feel his palm ghost up your skin slowly between your legs. “Fuck me. Are you not wearing panties?”, he whispers making you clench at the needy sound.

“No…I was kind of hoping…”

“Hoping what? That we’d touch you?”

“Such a bad little girl.”, Eddie teases as he reaches for your hand closest to him and kisses the back before placing it on the bulge in his blue sweatpants. “Just enjoy his fingers, Y/N. We can use you to take care of ourselves.”

“Oh my—”

“Shhhh! You have to be quiet, baby. Don’t want to get caught now do we?”, Steve smirks as you passionately shake your head. As he guides his index between your folds, your free arm wraps around his as you rest your cheek on his bicep. “Did you like that? Eddie saying that we’d use you… Oh Munson, she definitely did.”, he exhales as he wiggles and presses his finger against your clit.

At the sound of you trying to hide your moan in his arm, Steve tugs your leg further up his own and you suddenly feel his stiff cock through his pants rubbing against your calf. To your left Eddie coughs to hide a grunt that wanted to break free as he placed his hand on top of yours and maneuvered it so you were stroking him over his clothes.

They both would give anything to feel your body directly on theirs but they knew their window of time was short and unfortunately where they were there was no way to discreetly pull down their pants.

“S-Steve…pleeeeeeeeease…”

Eddie’s nose smushes against your cheek just as his friend guides two of his fingers into your core.

“We’re gonna get in trouble, Y/N, if you can’t control yourself.”, he growls as he presses your palm harder against him. “Fuck, your hand feels so fucking good.”, Eddie groans as he kisses your neck.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight.”, Steve whispers. “I would give anything to—mmph—feel your pussy squeeze my dick. We’re going to ruin you, little one.”

Clinging tightly to his arm, you pressed your face into him as you muffled the screams that wanted to be heard.

“Cum, pretty girl. That’s it, baby.”, Eddie urged as the coil in your belly snapped. “Good girl. Fuck.”

After sucking your slick off his index, Steve offered his hand to his friend who without hesitation licked the rest of his middle finger.

“I knew it. I knew you tasted fucking sweet, little girl.”, he grunted as his other palm roughly grabbed your wrist, holding your hand still as Eddie rolled his hips a couple more times before shuddering a bit as he came.

Utilizing both his hands now, Steve pressed your leg harder to his crotch, grinding as subtly as he could till he grunted and his face scrunched as he soon followed.

Calloused fingers tenderly lift your head and you softly smile when the metalhead’s lips land on yours.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Giggling, you rub your face into his neck as you inhale his smell of soap and cigarettes.

“I think that’s the orgasm talking.”

With a firmer grasp, Eddie tilts your chin so his eyes lock with your own.

“I’m serious. I love you, sweetheart, and I think you love us to.”

As you turn to face Steve, he gently places your leg back down and helps you adjust your outfit.

“I love you to, honey…very much. You don’t have to say it back or anything. We know that loving us…carries a lot of weight.”

The guards scream out into the yard that visiting hours were about to end and both boys help you gather your books as they walk you back inside. Just like every time before their eyes remain on you not wanting to look away till you’re completely out of sight.

Pausing halfway out the door, you swivel your body their way and flash them the most beautiful smile either boy had ever seen.

“I love you both to.”

########################

May 7th, 1997

“Please be nice to them. They aren’t what people say in the papers.”

“I certainly hope not especially since you talk to them 24/7.”, Derek sassed making you roll your eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. Look, I promise I’ll be good.”

When you don’t say anything, your boyfriend wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you to him, smiling when his lips attach to yours.

The sound of a throat clearing startled you as a guard lingered in the doorframe with Eddie and Steve in tow. The pain that lingered in their eyes told you they caught your kiss and it killed you.

“Alright Miss Y/L/N, you and your friend—”

“Boyfriend.”, Derek corrected.

The officer huffed at the interruption as Steve sarcastically laughed under his breath.

“You and your boyfriend have this room for as long as you need. We usually use it for interviews for the privacy and if you need anything I’ll be right outside.”

“Thank you, Bobby.”, you grinned politely and the officer nodded his head in return before stepping back outside.

“Oh, first name basis with the guards. Some people would consider that a red flag, babe.”

“To be fair, her father is a cop so…”, Eddie countered as they both took a seat in front of the camera.

“He IS Mr. Munson but, to be fair, this isn’t exactly his jurisdiction is it?”

As you shakily sigh and your eyes close, you feel shoes lightly tap your shin and when you open your eyes again you are met with their comforting expressions.

“All right, boys, the camera is now rolling. Are you ready to begin?”

Both their faces twitch as your boyfriend’s flippant tone as he takes a seat beside you across from them.

“Yeah, kid. We’re ready when you are.”

At Steve’s equally annoyed response, you felt your body tense as you immediately began regretting your decision. The sparing match was about to begin and you were just now aware this wouldn’t be an interview but a fight for dominance like animals in the wild.

“Perfect! So, Steven Harrington and Edward Munson, you were charged for murder in the deaths of some Hawkins student’s including Chrissy Cunningham who of course the entire country now knows thanks to people in the town spreading awareness and the foundation they created in her name a few years ago. So far, you both have served 11 years of your 25-year sentence… what has that been like?”

“Well, Derek, it’s been no picnic but we have utilized the time wisely. We read and exercise out in the yard. I’ve been reading up on law and we both participate in the group therapy options provided. Eddie was able to get his GED and graduate from high school.”

“Aw that’s nice. It only took a prison sentence for you to finally finish.”, he smiles showing all of his teeth in that sarcastic manner you know very well. “Now, in your own words, can you tell me what happened to those kids that died in 1986?”

Your eyes remained zeroed in on them as they explained what they had told to you and a courtroom numerous times. Someone else killed them and circumstantial evidence made it seem like it was Eddie while a vendetta made it seem like Steve was an accomplice.

“Were you surprised, Steven, when Hawkins Lap retracted their statements in regard to certain Hawkins events including their involvement of the death of Barbara Holland?”

Steve’s eyes fluttered as he tried to hold back the feeling that bubbled in his chest.

“Yeah, I was.”

“I imagine they did that since Eddie’s lawyer insisted on using them as a defense in this case. There’s only so much a company will allow themselves to be blamed for. What did happen with Miss Holland?”

“Derek…”, you warned.

“She was best friends with Nancy Wheeler who you were dating at the time.”

“Derek.”

“Is that why Miss Wheeler broke up with you about a year later? Or excuse me. She goes by Mrs. Byers now.”

“DEREK!”

“Y/N! You’re not their fucking lawyer so stop interrupting!”

“Don’t talk to her like that.”, Eddie growled as he sat up straighter.

“Pfft or what? You’ll kill me to?”, Derek replied smarmily as he straightened as well. “Whether you like it or not, you two are criminals and apparently there was at least enough evidence for a jury to convict you BOTH of that. It honestly amazes me that my girlfriend can’t accept that fact.”

“She’s going to be a phenomenal lawyer especially since she doesn’t just look at what’s on the surface unlike everyone else in the town.”, Steve countered making you blush as a small smirk painted your lips.

“Oh on the surface huh? So, Mr. Munson, you didn’t run after Chrissy was killed? Whether it be because you murdered her or someone else did, you ran and left her behind for your uncle to find, you pathetic freak.”

Eddie rose to his feet as his fists clenched but Steve hastily stopped him as he tried to calm him down.

“When people go missing you just happen to be around, Mr. Harrington? Add in the fact that you both have similar scars that tells anyone with eyes that whatever you were involved in you did it together.”

“This is over, Derek. You promised me—”

“No, you know what’s over? This little infatuation between you and my girlfriend.”, the man rumbles as he squares his shoulders and faces them. “The letters and phone calls stop today as well as the fucking visitation.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No.”, Eddie repeated. “We love her and we aren’t letting her go that easy.”

“Oh please! What can you two offer her?! You still have another 14 years in here and then what? Your lives will just be smooth sailing from there?! You’ve only known here for one year and I’ve been with her for three! Trust me, guys, she needs a real man. Someone who can take care of her in every way a man should.”

“Oh yeah, little boy? Is that why when you fuck her she’s thinking about us?”

The room went quiet for a few moments before Derek sarcastically chuckled and shifted his gaze toward you.

“You want them so badly? Fine. I can’t wait to see your face on the fucking news after they tear you apart. At least I can get a good story out of it. Better than anything else you’ve given me this past year, you fucking whore.”

You jumped, pressing your back against the wall as Steve abruptly flipped the table over with his hand before Eddie charged at the boy and tackled him to the floor. As they began to fight each other, guards ran in to separate them, pinning both men to the floor as they held Derek back against the wall.

Neither man look your way as officers tugged them to their feet and dragged them out of the room.

###################

September 27th, 1997

Steve bounces his leg as they wait by the phone for your call to finally come through. You said you’d call last night but you didn’t and it killed them. They understood you were busy but you made promises to them that they desperately held on to because there was very little to hope for in their current predicament.

“This really pisses me off, Harrington.”

“What are we going to do about it, Munson? She’s got school and her job—”

“Oh, I see. So her failing to keep her promises is only ok because we’re locked up. Got it.”

“Calm down, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me to--! Don’t tell me to be calm. If I was free I’d have punished her already but…”

After coming to prison, Steve had a lot more time to get to know who Eddie Munson was and came to find out that they had a lot in common. Their dads were assholes, their moms weren’t present, and they seemed to have a common attraction to being the dominant partner. On nights when he was desperate and incredibly lonely, Steve would sit beside his friend and elaborate about fantasies he had, had in his head since he hit puberty.

Both men continued to look at the brick wall in front of them as they continued stroking the other’s cock.

“I just want to push a beautiful girl onto her knees and fuck her gorgeous face a-as she gags around my dick. I want to hold her down against the m-m-mattress and stuff myself so deep inside her till can’t walk.”

“Mmph—that kind of intimacy is…is fucking heaven. To have a woman submit like that…fuck… have you e-ever punished a brat before?” Eddie smiles when Steve shakes his head. “Fuck, man. It’s on a whole—fuck, I’m gonna cum—a whole other level.”

After thrusting his hips upwards, his release hit his friend’s hand but what surprised him was when Steve grabbed the back of his neck and pushes the man’s head onto his leaking cock. The metalhead doesn’t protest, bobbing at a quick pace as the back of his friend’s palm guides him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s it, baby. Take it. Take all of Daddy’s cum down that sexy fucking throat.”

As soon as Steve had given him everything he had, Eddie patted the man’s thigh before climbing the little latter to his top bunk.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“You know when I talk about this stuff I mean…to like… a partner I’m in love with who consents to it. Like…I would never…hurt someone…”

“I know, Steven.”, the other man chuckles as he places his arms behind his head to stare at the bland ceiling.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t cross a line tonight right?”

“No, Steven, you didn’t.”

“Good because, um, you’re my best friend and you’re, um, kinda the only thing keeping me sane in here. Not just because of the…but because…I trust you.” Steve rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes as he heavily sighed. “Good night, Eddie.”

The mattress above him shifts slightly until he heard the light sound of socked feet hit the floor. An arm suddenly wraps around him pulling him back into an equally broad chest and another limb slides under his pillow under his head as calloused fingers looped through his.

“Good night, Steve.”

They never told you about any of that because honestly that was none of your business. To them, it was survival and both men trusted each other more than anyone else. They had been through so much and knew truths that no one else did. This was sacred and special to them and they were terrified of people turning it into something dirty.

Not that you ever would or mock them in any kind of way but they just weren’t ready to reveal that part of them to you and were pretty sure they never would.

“We’ve never gone that far with her. I mean she said she likes it rough and we’ve said some things but we haven’t truly set up the dynamic. How do we even do that in here?”, Steve sighed.

“Add in the fact that as soon as she calls us Daddy or Sir we’re going to want to fuck her which we can’t.”

Both men chuckle as a sad sigh leaves their chest.

“Can’t we?” At Steve’s words, Eddie’s eyes flicked his way as he leaned against the wall behind him. “I mean a ton of the prisoners here have contraband brought in. There has to be a guard or two here who doesn’t mind bending the rules for the right price.”

“Steve Harrington, you’re playing with fire.”

“I know but—“

“Harrington! Munson! Call coming through for you!”

Both mean exchanged a glance before picking up their separate lines.

“Y/N?”

“Hey! I’m so sorry. I know I said I’d call an hour ago but I fell asleep. I cut back some of my hours but still. These classes are so difficult.”

“We were really worried about you. We get worried when you don’t call and you missed our last visit, sweetheart.”

“I know. I’m sorry. This will never happen again. I promise!”

################

October 9th, 1997

Their demeanors were completely different this time than the many other times you had come to see them and you knew why.

It was so hard to keep up with your school and work schedule as well as keep constant contact with two men who had a set schedule of their own set up by the prison. You were doing everything you could but you could tell from their fire filled expressions it wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry.”, you reiterated as they continued to glare at the table in front of them. “I really am. I’m doing my best to—”

“It’s not enough.”, Steve growled making you blink at the audacity.

“I’m…I’m not doing this on purpose. I told you guys junior year was going to be a bit more demanding but I’d do everything I could—”

“You do everything you can yet you still make promises and don’t follow through.”

“I’m sorry I’m fucking busy, Eddie! I don’t know what else you want from me!”

Fingers dig into your bicep as the metalhead yanks you till your face is inches from his.

“Lower your fucking voice, little girl.”

The action startles you for a second before your eyes glare back at him as your teeth clench.

“You’re hurting me.”

As you yank your arm from his grasp, you can’t help but sigh as you see a slight glimmer of pain flash through theirs. They really did miss you and hate being away from you but unfortunately due to the circumstances they had zero control of the situation.

“I really am trying to cut down some of the stress so I can call and see you both more. Like I said, I cut back on my hours at work and this kid in my class offered to help tutor me. He’s one of the top students in my year so I really think he can help me.”

“He?” Your head tilts at Steve’s question as both their energies shift into something new that both frightened and turned you on. “Well, that’s nice to know, Munson. First she’s working at a bar till two in the fucking morning with drunk men fucking flirting and eye fucking her and now she has a male tutor she’ll be spending her time with! No wonder we haven’t heard from her. Little whore as all she needs at home!”

Your mouth fell open as he shouted at you, feeling hurt before the anger took over. Rising to your feet, you grab your bag but as you start to walk away, Eddie grabs your wrist.

“We are not done talking, Y/N. We’ve put up with the disrespect for the past few months because we know you’re going through a lot but missing calls, visits, and now this? No.”

“Let me go now.”

Without releasing you, they both rose to their feet and crowded your space till Steve��s nose was touching yours and Eddie’s lips were hovering near your shoulder.

“You’re ours, Y/N.” Steve’s eyes scan your face as your breathing stutters at his low gravelly tone. “And you will listen, little girl.”

“I’m NOT a little girl.”, you grumble back.

“Then stop acting like one.”, Eddie adds. “Now, be a good LITTLE girl and listen to what Daddy says. Sit. Down.”

The smirk that dons his friend’s face at the title has your pussy clenching as his eyes remain locked on yours. It feels like centuries before you finally collect your bearings and shake the fog that had begun to cloud your brain.

“Fuck you both.”

After shoving Steve’s chest hard, you quickly powerwalk out of the visitor’s room.

***

October 12th, 1997

You woke up with a splitting headache in a room you didn’t recognize with someone’s arms wrapped around you a bit too tightly. Prying out of the boy’s grasp, you throw on a nearby shirt and tiptoe to the bathroom.

Your eyes were still heavy from all the tears you had cried these past few days. You missed Eddie and Steve terribly but you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out again. You couldn’t believe their sudden change in behavior and how they spoke to you. Had the signs always been there and you just never noticed?

They had admitted once that they weren’t jealous of Derek because they cheekily declared that “that little boy can’t make you feel like we do.” Why were they so angry about your tutor and your job? Maybe it was because school and the bar took up a lot of time whereas Derek really didn’t. Because of his own classes he was always coming and going and whenever he was present he always seemed distracted.

To be fair, you did make promises you struggled to keep but it’s because you were so excited to finally talk to them you genuinely planned to go see them. You would literally count the minutes till your classes were done, promptly run home to shower and be ready by the time you told them but as soon as your head hit the pillow as you waited, you would pass out.

Maybe you just needed to find something you could do on campus so you weren’t up so late at work. Yeah it would be a bit of pay cut but you could make it work.

When it came to their attitudes, you hoped you could talk to them and tell you how it made you feel. How did it make you feel? Belittled, angry, annoyed, hurt, degraded…aroused… You had never experienced the brain fog with anyone else other than them. The headspace just seemed to come naturally when you were around them or listening to them talk.

Even if it was them just listening to you chat about your day, you felt that giddy feeling dance through your body down to core. Any time they praised you especially after doing something you knew you shouldn’t be doing; you felt a high like no other. You hadn’t told them but you had had many dreams of them suddenly appearing somewhere you were like class or the bar and having them fuck you roughly as they spanked you, pulled your hair, and held you down as they made you theirs.

Your favorites were the ones where they were in your bed and had you tied to the headboard as both took their time with you as you begged and pleaded with them to make you cum. Your lips would ghost their own as their rough hands roamed your body and left bruises you would welcome the next morning. Their eyes would never leave yours as they took from you they wanted and you would repeatedly moan, “Daddy, please.”

Eddie mentioned the title during your last visit and from Steve’s expression you knew he enjoyed it as much as you did but they had hurt you so badly.

You sigh as you exit the bathroom and quietly grab your pants.

I’ll give them a few more days to cool off and then I’ll go visit them so we can talk.

As you slide on your shoes, your eyes shifted towards the Polaroid camera resting on the bedside table.

Fuck me. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid with that thing last night.

***

October 13th, 1997

Eddie growls loudly as he tears up your letter and throws it in the trash can nearby while Steve continues to stare at the picture of you allowing this boy to kiss what was theirs.

“Give me that, Steven. I’m going to fucking burn it—”

“No… No. She’s playing the game, Ed. She made this move because she thinks we can’t do anything about it.”

“Because we can’t. UGH! Maybe we jumped too quickly, man. It just fucking hurt us because we don’t get to see her everyday so when she says she’ll call and she doesn’t… “

“Yeah…” Steve taps his fingers against his knee while Eddie takes another drag of his cigarette. “Maybe it’s time to have a talk with her. Show her how much we do care and how much it breaks our hearts when she breaks a promise.”

“She won’t answer out calls or letters.”

“Then we should go to her.”

The metalhead blinks as he nervously chuckles before his friend’s straight face meets his.

“Nope. Nope. Nuh huh.” As the man begins to walk away, Steve runs after him and tugs on his arm to stop him. “Do you know how much trouble we can get in for even having this conversation? You talk to one wrong person, Steven, and we could be stuck here for another 10 fucking years.”

“What if I found the right person?”

“I…what…how?”

“How much money do you have?”

***

October 31, 1997

You faked a smile as you handed your cash to the cashier and grabbed your bags of candy as you headed for your car. Tonight, you were planning on a night in with some of your friends while handing out treats to some of the neighborhood kids.

Truth be told, you didn’t want to do anything except curl up in bed and eat the chocolate you bought. You had tried calling the prison a few times but they informed you that neither inmate was accepting calls or visitors at this time. You sent a few letters but hadn’t received anything back as of yet.

You missed Eddie and Steve so much and it killed you to not be able to speak to them.

After pulling into your driveway, you hastily checked your mail before running inside to get everything together.

Once your hair was styled and you slid on your red spaghetti strap dress to make you look like Cher in Clueless, you take a seat on your couch as you wait for your friends to arrive.

Leaning forward, you decide to sift through the mail pausing suddenly as all the other letters fall to the floor. The envelope was marked from them like all the others and your heart did flips as you hugged the paper to you.

As you tore the paper open, you half expected to see a lengthy note detailing how much they missed you to and when they’d want to meet with you so you could finally talk. Your stomach dropped as you read and reread the only two sentences written on the single page they sent.

“Trick or treat, little girl.

See you tonight.

--Steve & Eddie”

#################

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon

364 notes · View notes

xxoxobree · 1 year ago

Text

The Boy Is Mine

Miles Morales x Black Fem Spider-person Reader v Gwen Stacy.

Summary: He saved you and She didn’t want to and maybe she was right because the boy is now yours.

WARNINGS: Fighting, bad words, I think that’s it.

A/n: I was tied!!! Of seeing Miles cheat with Gwen so I took matters into my own hands. This is probably one of the best stories I’ve ever written too so don’t skip. I had so much fun writing this.

For the past 2 years, you've been the one and only Spider-woman. Everyone knows the story by now, bitten by a radioactive spider, and now you spend your time protecting the city. Everything was going great. Or that's what you wanted to believe as you fought Wilson Fisk, a person who is supposed to be behind bars. This Wilson was different - bigger, stronger, he was giving you a run for your money.

"What have they been feeding you at the Raft, Willie?" You quipped as you dodged a punch. "Haha, missed me," you said, landing a punch combo to his jaw.

"You stupid spiders are always in the way," he said, managing to catch you off guard, knocking you back. This fight is definitely gonna take a while.

"Who are you anyway, where's Spider-Man?" Fisk asked, walking menacingly toward you as you lay on the floor to catch a breath.

"I don't get paid enough for this," you said, getting up, squaring up with the large man.

Spider-Man, what are you talking about, Fisk?" You asked the man leaping backwards, dodging all of his hits.

"Enough of this talk, this ends now," Fisk said, running toward you. You charged back, your fist balled, about to strike, but he dodged and caught you by your throat.

"Another spider under my belt," Fisk said, laughing as he squeezed your throat. Gasping for air, you tried your best to break free from his grip, but your vision began to fade out. Your strength left you, and your eyes began to close. All you wanted to do was sleep, but you blinked your eyes again. Maybe you were hallucinating from the lack of oxygen, but a portal with glowing lights appeared, and two other spider personas flew forward, knocking Fisk out. You dropped to the floor, gasping for air, but still fainted in the process.

You probably weren't out for long, but you heard faint voices, a female and a male.

"What do we do, Gwen? We can't just leave her here."

"Miles, what are we supposed to do? We can't take her back to HQ."

You were too weak to actually open your eyes to see who was talking. Too weak to stop them from kidnapping you and taking you to wherever HQ was. You tried to let out a small groan, but it was useless.

"That's exactly what we need to do, Gwen. She needs medical care."

"Ughhh.... Fine, you grab her."

You heard footsteps move towards you, and your body being lifted before you succumbed to the darkness around you again.

✨HQ✨

Your bloodshot eyes shot open as you sat up, feeling around for your mask that wasn't on your face. You heard the fast-paced beeping of a heart monitor, letting you know your heart rate was up as you ripped all the pads off of you, standing ready to leave the room before two people came walking inside. You immediately got in defense mode as you studied them - an older man in a blue suit with a spider on the front, and a younger boy about your age in a black suit, also with a spider on the front.

"Where the fuck am I, and who are you?" you said, pointing.

"Welcome to HQ, Spiderwoman. I'm Spider-Man, and he's Spider-Man. Glad you survived. Miles, I'll leave you to it," the older man in the blue suit said, walking away.

Miles walked closer to you, setting off your spider senses. You closed one of your eyes, moving your head to the side, resting your hand on your head. "Don't come any closer," you said.

You're probably not used to that, but you're like me, it does that sometimes. I'm Miles.

"Yeah, I got that from earlier," you said, flopping back on the hospital cot, still very much in pain.

Miles wasn't in the room when they took off your mask, so this was the first time he saw your face. He scanned every detail of your face, taking in the way your plump lips formed into a natural pout, or maybe that was just because you were in pain. The way your brown eyes sparkled under the bright white light, he couldn't help but be captivated by your gaze. He loved your braids and the way your pink beads rattled every time you moved.

Miles felt something stir in the pit of his stomach the longer he looked at you. Maybe it was just gas from the spicy food he ate earlier, he thought, in denial of the growing attraction he felt for a stranger.

"Well, aren't you gonna tell me your name?" Miles finally mustered the courage to ask.

You turned to face him, the pain momentarily forgotten as you observed his silly smirk. You weren't usually the friendliest person, but there was something about Miles that felt different, something that made you want to open up.

"I'm Y/n," you replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Nice to meet you Y/n," Miles said, offering his hand. You looked at it. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm in too much pain right now," you said, causing both of you to laugh. There it was, that fluttering feeling in the pit of Miles' stomach again as he watched a beautiful smile grace your face.

"So, what is this place and why am I here?" you asked Miles, curiosity shining in your eyes. "This is the Spider Society. We brought you here because you were in bad shape from fighting Fisk," Miles explained. You coughed a bit. "Yup, he whooped my ass," you said, making both you and Miles burst into laughter again.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Gwen stood outside the door, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding inside. With each word you said to Miles, with each chuckle you elicited from him, the flames of jealousy ignited within her. Unable to bear it any longer, she burst into the room, startling both you and Miles.

"What the fuck? You didn't even have to do all that, shawty," You exclaimed. Miles stood up, a look of surprise on his face. "Gwen, this is Y/n, Spider-woman, the one we helped," he explained, pointing toward you.

"Oh, hi. I'm glad you're okay," Gwen said, her words laced with a hint of insincerity.

This your girl Miles ?" You asked.

"No, no." They both said in unison dragging their o's. It was obvious to you that there was more to the story by the way she busted into the room but that was none of your business.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Y/n. We should get going," Gwen said, gently tugging Miles towards the door.

Before leaving, Miles tossed you a watch that you effortlessly caught. "Maybe we can see each other again," he said, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You smiled, watching him walk away.

"Hmmm," you hummed, examining the watch before clasping it onto your wrist. "Maybe we will, Spider-Man."

As Gwen and Miles made their way through the headquarters, Miles couldn't ignore Gwen's evident distress. He studied her face and body language.He called out to her, "Gwen?"

Getting no response, Miles tried a sing-songy voice, calling her name once more. "What, Miles?" she replied, her voice tinged with bitterness.

"I know you're upset. Do you want to talk or not?" Miles asked, genuinely wanting to understand what was bothering her.

"Why don't you go talk to Y/n?"

"Gwen, are you serious? I barely know her, but she's a cool girl," Miles defended, trying to reassure her.

"Oh, she's cool now?" Gwen's tone dripped with sarcasm and doubt.

Miles gently reached for Gwen's hand, stopping her in her tracks, making her face him directly. "Look, Gwen, you don't have to worry about her, okay?" he said softly.

Gwen's expression softened, and she nodded, a flicker of trust returning to her eyes. "Alright, Miles. She said giving him a small punch to the shoulder.

✨The Mission✨

You were back in your dimension 2 days post fight with Fisk feeling good as new. You were in bed, examining the watch Miles gave you, when a hologram of a woman appeared, making you scream.

"Oh hey there new recruit, I'm Lyla," she said, waving.

"Hi... Lyla," you said slowly, waving back.

"Sorry to scare you, but the boss needs you at HQ, your first mission... Yayyyy, so suit up," she said before disappearing.

"Uh, okay," you said, slipping into your skintight suit and mask, slapping on your watch, struggling to find out how to get it to work because no one gave you a tutorial. But you managed using your genius brain and stepped through the portal, gracefully landing in a dark room with monitors.

"Great, you're here......Miles!" the man you were familiar with but never got his name called out.

From the shadows, Miles emerged with a smile on his face. "Good to see you again, Mamita," he said.

"Oh, we're using pet names now?" you said, matching his flirty energy.

"That's enough," Miguel said as he stood before you two. "Anomaly in Earth 746, catch it."

"Anomaly?" you questioned.

"I'll tell you all about it later," Miles said, grabbing your hand, opening a portal, and pulling you through.

You dusted off your hands. The mission went well, a little too well, especially for a Goblin mission.

"You're pretty good, Miles."

"You too, Mamita. Gotta say, I doubted you a little after the Fisk fight," he teased.

"Oh, whatever," you said, rolling your eyes, chuckling a bit.

You moved closer to Miles, mere inches between you two, as you ran your fingers along his jawline.

Miles' breath hitched as you touched him, his hazel eyes expressing the tension between you two. There was no denying that Miles was handsome, and you were eager to learn more about him.

"So what dimension are you from, Papa?" you asked playfully, a flirtatious smile gracing your lips.

"1610. Maybe we could go there?" Miles responded, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Take a girl on a date first, Miles," you laughed, teasing him gently.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I..." Miles stammered, trying to explain himself.

"I would love to see your dimension, Miles," you interrupted, cutting him off.

And so, Miles took you to his dimension.

"This is Brooklyn." Miles said as you two stood atop the Williamsburg Bank building, you marveled at the city below. It was similar to your own home, yet distinctly different. Miles watched in awe as your eyes sparkled at the city, feeling a flutter in his stomach.

"It's beautiful, Miles," you whispered, taking a seat to soak in the view.

He walked forward and sat beside you, his face beaming with joy. You turned towards him, a warm smile on your lips.

"So, what's your story, big head?" you asked, playfully leaning on him.

"My story?" Miles responded, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"You're Spider-Man, Miles. What's your origin?" you asked , curious him.

"You know, regular Spider-Man stuff. I gained my powers and now I fight bad guys," Miles answered, a humble tone in his voice.

"That's not what I meant," you said, giving him a small shove. "What's the real story? I was bitten by a radioactive spider too, two years ago on a field trip to Oscorp. Your world doesn't seem to have Oscorp." You sighed, frustration and sadness mixing in your voice. "I got these crazy powers that I didn't know what to do with, so I decided to keep them a secret and pretend that I was a regular kid."

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air as you choked up, memories flooding back. Miles noticed your distress and perked up. "It's okay, you don't have to share if you don't want to," he said, trying to comfort you.

But something compelled you to open up, to let go of the burden you had been carrying alone for so long. You rested your hand gently on top of his. "I pretended to be some regular kid, and that led to me losing my mom. And from then on, I decided to help everyone else," you finished.

Miles's heart stung as he listened to your story. "I lost someone close to me too, my uncle Aaron. He was shot saving me," he shared, the pain evident in his voice.

A sense of understanding and connection washed over you both. You leaned your head on his shoulder. "See, that's your story, Papa," you said softly, appreciating the bond that formed between you. "You know, Miles, it's so nice to have someone to talk about this stuff with now," you added, gazing at the sun setting on the horizon.

That moment solidified your blooming relationship with Miles. Whenever you had free time, you would pop into his dimension, and vice versa. Now, in your suit, you found yourself in dimension 1610, patiently waiting for Miles to catch up as you swung through the bustling city.

"Keep up, Miles," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you effortlessly jumped from building to building, landing with grace. The two of you were headed back to his house, where Jeff and Rio, his parents, adored you and had grown fond to your presence after all the time you spent with Miles.

They couldn't wrap their head around the whole different dimension thing and just assumed Miles' imagination had run wild. You two walked through his front door.

"Hey Mama Rio," you greeted Miles' mom.

"Hey Mija."

"Hey Mom," Miles said, hugging his mom before the two of you walked into his room. You two were too caught up in conversation to notice a guest. Gwen. She cleared her throat, making you two snap your attention towards her.

"Gwen, hey," Miles said nervously. "What are you - what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you because I barely see you anymore, but now I know why," Gwen answered.

You snickered a bit, knowing you essentially snatched Miles from Gwen.

"Oh, that's funny?" Gwen asked.

You threw your hands up in surrender, not wanting to get into it with her.

"We were about to watch a movie, order some pizza. You can stay if you want," Miles offered to pacify Gwen, but he was hoping she'd turn it down. He cherished his alone time with you.

"No, it's fine, Miles. I'll leave," Gwen said with a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Uh, okay. Bye," Miles said

"Bye, Gwendolyn," you added, unable to hide the small smirk on your face.

Gwen turned to you and asked, "You know what, can we talk outside, Y/n?"

Rolling your eyes, you agreed, "Sure, why not?" You grabbed Miles' hand, signaling for him to come along.

"Alone," Gwen insisted, her tone unwavering.

"Okay... I'll be back, papa," you said to Miles, giving him a smile and a pat on the cheek.

As you followed Gwen out of the window and onto the roof, you could feel the tension building up. Once you reached a secluded corner, she turned to face you, arms folded.

"What is your problem?" she asked, her voice filled with accusation.

"Girl, what are you talking about?" you answered defensively.

"Miles," she replied, her tone laced with frustration.

"What about him? He's fine, great even," you said, walking closer to her.

"Don't play dumb, Y/n," Gwen snapped.

"What are you getting at, Gwen?" you said, your tone becoming pointed as you grew tired of the conversation.

"He's mine, Y/n, and you're trying to steal him away," her voice filled with possessiveness.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Yours?" you asked, shaking your head. "Gwen, you lost him the day you two saved me."

As the words left your mouth, the truth hung heavy in the air. Gwen had been holding onto her feelings for Miles while pretending everything was okay. But deep down, she knew that the connection between you and Miles was undeniable.

What you didn't see coming was a slap across your face from Gwen, not thinking she was bold enough to do it. The sting of her actions lingered in the air as shock resonated through your entire being. And what Gwen didn't see was Miles, camouflaged and watching you two from a distance. He didn't hear anything you two talked about, but he sure did see the slap.

As the pain subsided, you didn't retaliate. Deep down, you and Gwen both knew that you had won this battle, that Miles was now dedicated to you.

"Why would you do that, Gwen?" You heard a voice behind you, and turned to see Miles standing there, his eyes filled with disappointment.

You watched in satisfaction as Gwen's eyes widened, realizing that she had not only hurt you but also jeopardized her chances with Miles. She had unknowingly made it even easier for you to snatch his affection away from her.

"Miles, I..." Gwen stammered, unable to find the right words to justify her actions.

"Why would you hit her?" Miles asked, his voice filled with a mix of anger and hurt.

"You didn't hear what she said, Miles. She's trying to tear us apart. You were mine," Gwen spewed out, desperately clinging to her fading hopes.

"Yours? I'm not some object, Gwen," Miles retorted, his voice laced with disappointment. "Is that why you brought her outside? To hit her?"

A heavy silence hung in the air as Gwen struggled to find an explanation, her words failing her. The truth had been laid bare, and Miles saw her for who she truly was.

"Save it, Gwen," Miles said, his voice firm. "You just showed me the type of person you really are. I've been pining after you for months, and you always brushed me off. But now, now I have someone who actually likes me back."

With those words, he took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

You looked at Gwen, a smug look on your face as you squeezed Miles' hand tighter.

"You don't mean that, Miles."Gwen said.

"Yes, I do," Miles turned to you. "She likes me back, and she's the most caring, sweetest, funniest person in this dimension and every other," Miles said, making you tear up a bit, your lip bottom poking out.

"You're so cute when you do that," Miles said.

Gwen watched as her heart slowly broke. She had played with Miles,but now she had lost the game. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She should be the one he said all those things to. The tears pricked her eyes.

"Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?" The words echoed in Gwen's head, the final blow that made her tears roll down her face.

"Of course, I will, papa," you said, jumping on Miles and giving him a tight hug before pulling back and giving him a big kiss, your first one in front of his former crush.

You and Miles turned to Gwen, watching as she continued to cry.

"You should go, Gwen," you said, your heart aching a bit for the girl, but not a lot.

Miles grabbed your hand as the two of you walked off toward the stairwell, leaving Gwen behind.

1K notes · View notes

astroboots · 2 years ago

Text

Every You Every Me Issue #3

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You are determined to meet your Spider-benefactor face to face and you go to ever increasing extreme lengths to do so. Problem is, Miguel O'hara is very uncooperative to your plans.

Word count: 5,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, so slow you wonder if it's even burning. Near death experiences, the state of the economy and how expensive it is to live in a big city, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[Previous issue] [Next Issue]

You saw them in the window display of a bakery in Greenwich Village. Round sugar cookies with red frosting and white eyes, decorated as a tribute to everyone's favorite neighborhood Spiderman.

Before you had time to properly think things over (would he even like the cookies? Is he on a strict superhero diet and workout plan? What if he's gluten intolerant?) you were already standing in front of the cash register having a dozen of them wrapped up in fancy crinkly paper and were $72 dollars poorer.

Charging six dollars per cookie is practically highway robbery, but that's par for the course with New York bakeries. You wouldn’t be surprised if every bakery in New York was already a part of Wilson Fisk’s criminal empire.

As you push open the door, box in hand, you wonder wryly to yourself why Spiderman’s ruder alter ego isn't there to save you from that.

You wonder, for Superheroes, what classifies as an event worth intervening in and what everyday citizens need to be saved from?

Financial ailment doesn't quite seem to qualify from what you've been able to glean so far.

Tony Stark, for all the wealth he’s amassed (a large enough treasure hoard that he would be capable of buying the whole planet of Mars according to Forbes) isn't massively involved with charities. He only donates to the one: his own. And the Stark Foundation is really just Tony Stark paying reparations for the damage he and his buddies caused in the first place.

Thor is an actual deity, and you still remember that write-up in Esquire magazine, where local waiters in New Mexico had called him a terrible tipper and a habitual smasher of glassware.

Assault and battery is up in the air. There are accounts of Superheroes intervening; that Tiktok videos of She-Hulk breaking up a bar fight that went viral a few weeks back. But then equally, there are memes of Doctor Strange peeking out the window of Sanctum Sanctorum watching a street fight unfold,, utterly uninterested in getting involved. The internet labeled it as "mood".

As for murder and mayhem, there's a longstanding public debate as to whether Superheroes cause more than they prevent. Case in point: that Moon Knight guy that paints the streets of London red.

There is no rule book written to explain how Superheroes decides who is worth saving and who is not.

Does one have to be important and have a material effect on the state of the world?

If so, you fall pitifully short. The most world-changing decision you made as of late was deciding to opt out of utensils on your last GrubHub order to help save the environment.

So it makes you wonder: Why on earth has this non-costume accurate Spiderman saved you, not once, not twice, but 13 times to date?

That’s just the first of many questions you’d like to ask him. What does he know that you don’t? Does he know why the universe seems to be out to get you lately? Or why death itself is following you everywhere you go, nipping at your heels?

You haven’t had the chance to ask him anything, because despite all of your encounters, you haven't met him face to face since that very first time.

Inconveniently, you don't exactly have a way of contacting him. Superheroes aren't listed in the phone book.

With no other way to reach out, you go at it the old fashioned way. You write him a note from a page you've ripped out of your notebook:

‘Thank you for saving me. Can we meet? I have questions.’

You place the note on the window sill. Setting the plate with $72 dollars worth of Spiderman cookies on top of the left corner of the paper to make sure it doesn't get blown away in the wind. Then you leave the window open for the first time since you've moved into this apartment before heading to bed.

There's nothing else to do but to wait.

You wake to the spit and splatter of rain against your window. It's gray outside, and the cookies you set out the night before remain untouched. You frown at the sight, but you can't say you're surprised.

There was never any real indication that he was lurking around you. Superheroes are bound to have more interesting things on their schedule than stalking a random insurance employee.

You don't know why you thought this would work in the first place.

Getting out of bed, you walk up to your window to inspect the scene. The note is where you have left it, ink a little smeared from the rain, where the plate has kept it in place on the right corner.

That seems odd, now that you think about it. You stare at the note, eye drawn to the watermarks. Why are there water stains bleeding into the paper if your window was closed? As crappy as your rundown apartment can be, water damage is the one thing you haven't had issues with.

You draw your eyes to the closed window being smattered with the rain outside. Didn't you leave the window open last night? You're pretty sure you did, hoping that the open window would be seen as a gesture of invitation. You had left it open… right?

You did.

You're sure you did.

He must’ve been here.

Rude, not-costume-accurate Spiderman was here.

Right?

Your eyes flicker back to the window.

Or maybe you did close the window?

You close your eyes trying to recall your evening, packing the length of your apartment as you replay the memory. Suddenly, you're not so sure anymore. You always close your window, and even though you had every intention of keeping it open last night, who is to say you didn't close it out of sheer habit?

It's strange. Because if he was here, he would've spotted the note. But it's in the same spot you left it yesterday right under the plate on the left side of it...

You eye the undisturbed note tucked under the right corner of the plate.

Wait, wait. Didn't you put the note under the left side of the plate?

You did.

Yes, you definitely did.

Which means, he was here... Right?

You feel like you are going insane.

Are you seeing things that are not there? Was he actually here and if so why did he go to such lengths to pretend otherwise. Why would he passive-aggressively gaslight you into thinking he was never here?

You decide on a redo.

Because if you can't trust yourself and your questionable memory, you can trust a recording.

A teddy bear nanny cam sets you back $50. Not cheap, but not as outrageous as your stale-cardboard-tasting Spiderman cookies.

You set it up on your dresser opposite your window and link it to your phone as per the instructions.

As for the bait. After having tasted those brick cookies for yourself, putting it out for a second night for a man who has saved your life repeatedly didn't seem right. You decide to bake them yourself this time.

The added bonus is that you get to mix blue food coloring into the frosting for the decoration that goes on top. In retrospect, the red Spiderman cookies from last time might’ve implied that you’re calling him a knock-off Spiderman.

Besides, even with the cost of living crisis: a bag of flour, baking powder, unsalted butter, sugar and eggs cost a lot less than $72 dollars.

This time, you don't write him a sloppily put together note. You decide to write him a proper letter.

If he did visit your apartment, (and you're not just going insane) the fact that he moved the note meant that he must've read it.

This note didn’t work.

It must not have been compelling enough, you were kind of in a hurry…

You’ll have to write something better this time. Longer. More emotionally compelling. Surely if you take the time to really explain your plight, you can make him understand why it’s so important he talks to you!

The problem is that it’s hard to sound serious when it’s written on lined paper from your ruled notebook.

That won’t do. You go to the nearest stationery store in your neighborhood, a chain outlet of Paper Source to get yourself some decent looking stationary paper with a matching colored envelope to boot.

You immediately regret this part of your plan, because it ends up setting you back another $26 dollars. Why is 6 pieces of paper so damn expensive anyhow? Surely there’s a few trees left in the world to chop down?!

$102 dollars down in your bank balance, you sit down at your dining table that night, pen in hand and begin writing. You pour your heart onto the pages, setting out in as precise words as you can manage the effect your near death incidents have had on you.

How scared you are, how confused you are, but also how grateful you are that he's saved you, again and again and again. That you believe if you and him can just meet in person and talk, if you could ask questions and figure out why this is happening, then maybe you can find a way to stop it from happening again.

Then you fold the letter and tuck it neatly into the matching envelope and slide it under the left side of the cookie plate and go to sleep.

When you wake the next morning, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

The cookies are still neatly arranged on your plate. The letter snugly tucked underneath it.

On the left side this time, you note.

It doesn’t look like he came.

The only thing is that you swear that the envelope is now several inches further to the left than where you left it last night.

Again, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

You pull up your phone, opening the app linked to the nanny cam and press play.

There is nothing but the still frame of your studio apartment, your bed to the right and your window square in the camera-view. You speed up the video, but the only thing that takes you by surprise is that you apparently toss a lot more in your sleep than you thought.

The camera footage goes well into 3am, and you’re resigning yourself to the fact that this was all down to your imagination.

He didn't come last night. Probably didn't come the night before. Most likely you woke up from the rain, closed the window and were too sleepy to remember.

You sigh, setting down your phone on the table, prepared to let this whole endeavor go.

On your screen, a smudged shadow appears in the corner of the window. You jump to your feet from your seat, knocking your chair over in the process with a raucous thud. The dark figure grows larger on your screen, dark navy blue and lines of stark red that perches itself onto your window sill.

YES! yes-yes-yes! You knew it. You fucking goddamn knew it!

You were right.

Adrenaline buzzes victoriously in your veins, and you grip your phone harder. Your heart is pounding so fast and hard in your chest you can hear the drumming beat of it in your ears.

He was here!

(You're not cuckoo for cocoa puffs).

You watch as his large figure sits on your window sill. He's still wearing his mask, and while you can't make out the expressions underneath, the outline where his eyes would have been, painted in dark blue, now narrow into a slit on your screen.

There's a hostility emanating from that glare that you are able to sense all the way from the opposite side of the screen. He stares down at the plate of cookies suspiciously. Then he just stays there, unmoving, having a staring competition with the cookies you baked in his image.

In the privacy of your living room, you have the luxury of taking the time to get a proper look at him without interruption. It's hard to ignore the fact of just how tightly fitted to his skin that suit is. The dark blue fabric clings to every line of muscles on his body and it makes your cheek prickle with heat when you look. It feels voyeuristic somehow, but you can't help but think that the more modest alternative would be if he had worn nothing at all.

He's absurdly ripped. Muscular doesn't even begin to describe it. Broad shoulders and a narrow tapered waist segueing into obscenely thick and defined thighs that have your eyes linger for far too long. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, Jesus you are acting like a creep. This isn’t OnlyFans, though lord knows you paid for this privilege! $102 for a cam video!

On the footage, there is finally movement. He reaches for a cookie, bringing it to his mouth. The blue fabric dematerializes on his lower face until it reveals his tanned skin and that ridiculously cut jaw of his.

His mouth parts. Fangs protrude where his canine teeth are supposed to be and the sight makes you nearly drop your phone in shock.

Is this Spiderman a vampire? Or is he like a tarantula Spiderman with fangs to match?

You watch in suspended horror as he bites into the cookie, those sharp fangs of his are in plain view as he chews.

He leans over to reach for a second cookie and all your trepidation is forgotten for a second, because if he’s reaching for a second one, it must mean he likes them. You grin at your screen, culinary pride beating out any caution or fear you may have had.

Then he lifts up the plate, picking up the letter. The anticipation is too much. You press your face closer to the screen to try to get closer, because your screen is too small to pick up any possible nuances in his expression.

He's carefully opening the envelope as he starts to read. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. There's no visible change of facial expressions in the outline of his masked eyes. His mouth, which is bared to you, doesn't so much as twitch.

It doesn’t take long for him to read it. When he's done, he tucks the letter back under the plate. Then he bends down over the plate of cookies, and for a moment you think he’s going in for a third. Instead his hand lingers on the plate, before he starts to slide the remaining cookies around the plate to your confusion. You watch in confusion as he picks up the cookies one by one to space them out more evenly. You don't quite understand what he's trying to do, wait… is Vampire spider man re-arranging the cookies to make it less obvious he’s eaten them?!

The bastard really was trying to gaslight you into thinking he was never here.

Once he’s seemingly satisfied with his work, he straightens up, turning until his back is against the camera preparing to leave.

To your surprise his face turns around to take one last look inside. The direction of his gaze settles on your bed where you're sleeping. His eyes lingers there for a handful of moments, inscrutable over the mask.

Is he sad? Angry? You can't tell.

He finally looks away and then he leaps off the window.

Politely asking him in writing is clearly not working out for you.

You decide the only recourse you have left is to try and physically catch him.

Such a simple sentiment that had sounded so easy in your head, but you quickly run into logistical issues when you try to put it into practice.

The man is built like a tank. Can leap off of skyscrapers (and the window of your sixth floor) without breaking a sweat. Potentially also a vampire.

You're not exactly sure how you're supposed to catch someone like that.

Your google research is off to a shaky start. Somehow you end up down a rabbit hole of tutorials for non-lethal mouse traps. It's not very useful inspiration. Because you can't exactly build a 7 foot large cage trap to catch him the next time he comes around to help himself to cookies.

But the concept of having a lure trap set with bait seemed transferable and so you decide to go for a classic spring trap that you’ll modify. No cage, instead you set up a DIY contraption with a sturdy string attached to a bell meant to quickly alert you to his presence next time he comes around.

The game plan is to wake up and corner him before he has a chance to abscond.

As for bait, you google things that vampires might like in a half-thought of plan it might be applicable. Unfortunately, there are no young virgin maidens you know of as far as the eye can see in New York (yourself included) so that was a no go.

So you default back to cookies (because hey, at least it worked last time).

Amazon has your whole set up shipped and delivered by the next day and you implement phase 3 of your rapidly escalating attempts to reach out to him.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work. For one he doesn’t show up that night. Or the night after. It takes him four whole days to show up again and when he does, he spots your trap a mile away. When you review the footage on the cam the next day, he avoids the rope and the whole mechanism effortlessly.

There's no sound on the nanny cam so you can't be sure of it. But you think from the way the line of his shoulders shake as he steps over the rope that he might be laughing at you. He’s definitely seen through few supervillain traps in his days so in hindsight the probability of success here was low.

He does however eat three of your cookies this time.

You get a little bit more desperate after that.

You decide that if a trigger trap to wake you won't work, then obviously, the next best thing is for you to simply stay awake.

The problem is that he doesn't show up every night. His visits are entirely random without an obvious pattern. Sometimes he shows up two nights in a row, sometimes he goes several days without making a guest appearance on your nanny cam footage.

It means you end up downing a whole carafe of coffee, and several energy drinks, every night for a week straight. Entirely unable to predict what night he's going to appear, you keep dooming your already tiny bladder to a dozen visits to the bathroom before the clock has even struck nine.

The saddest part of it is that despite being wired on enough coffee to power a nuclear power station by yourself, you never end up staying awake the whole night through.

More often than not you end up falling asleep sitting upright by the dining table waiting up for him. Then the next morning you wake with a wry neck, a sore back and your face pressing up uncomfortably against the wooden surface.

But you're nothing if not tenacious. Tonight makes it the sixth night in a row that you’re doing this. You stare down the can of red bull on your dining table as you pick it up and lift it to your mouth. You’re going to keep going, hardness of the wooden table be damned.

You're surprised to find yourself waking up feeling well rested without any aches. Surrounded by the softness of your quilt and your even softer memory foam pillow.

The luxurious comfort of it all is such a relief that you don't even question it at first. Don't question why you're in bed when the last thing you remember was nodding off against the palm of your hand and the hard discomfort of your dining chair.

In the sanctuary of your bed, you just dig your face deeper into your pillow and snooze for as long as you can. Ignoring the bright sun pouring in from your windows until it sears unforgivingly against your skin and you decide that it’s finally time to start your day.

By habit, the first thing you do as you get up from bed is to pull up the nanny cam app on your phone and press play on last night's recording.

There's nothing of interest. Seeing yourself read a book by the dining table and chugging down a series of Red Bull is hardly riveting television.

Yesterday you barely even make it until midnight because you can see yourself nod off at the table, head sliding off your palm and plonking down on the dining table. You flinch at the impact, vaguely impressed that the collision didn't wake you.

Your (maybe vampire) Spiderman turns up at 3 am.

Much like the times before, he perches himself on your window sill, peering inside (presumably to check for any new traps you might have laid out for him).

His broad frame stiffens, and then, with a smooth leap, he's inside your apartment.

Excitement rushes to your head, because this is the furthest he’s gone and the first time he's come all the way inside instead of just lurking on the window sill.

He goes over to your bed, flinging the quilt to the side. He seems stressed, the dark shape of his eyes wide as he stands over the empty bed when it dawns on you what’s happening on screen right now.

Oh, he's worried.

He looks over at you, hunched over the dining table, sound asleep and oh god, is that drool on your cheek?

The line of his shoulder relaxes. The broadness of his chest rises then dips with a heavy exhale. Something warm trickles in your stomach at his obvious concern for you.

The mystery is confounding. You don't know him. You've never met him, but for some unfathomable reason he cares enough about you to genuinely care about your safety and you want to know why.

He makes his way over to the table where you are. The mask slowly ebbs away, uncovering his familiar chin, cheeks and then finally his eyes. An other-worldly shade of crimson that has you spellbound and transfixed on the screen.

You find yourself raising your phone closer to your face, trying to get a better look at him. Cursing the crappy quality of the video. You don't know what to make of the way he's looking at you. It's intensely focused, almost sad, and… and… And you don't know what, but it makes your heart leap up into your throat, chest clenching tight.

He bends over, wrapping his broad arms under your knees. He’s careful in his movements, cupping your head as it lolls to the side until you’re comfortably resting against his shoulders. It’s a practiced movement, as if he’s done this a hundred times before as he picks you up and carries you bridal style to your bed. Gingerly tucking you under the quilt with something that looks a lot like tenderness.

It leaves you with more questions than ever.

Ever since you started your caffeine chugging marathon, work has become a new kind of hell.

You're already half-asleep and nodding off at your desk by 10.30. Eyes sore and strained as you stare at the bright screen and try to make sense of the endless columns that are all different and also all the same until your brain refuses to try to make sense of any of it anymore.

You need to go for a walk. Clear your head.

Maybe pop out for a coffee... smoothie. Definitely smoothie.

Outside, the heat is oppressive, far too hot for only being May. Definitely too hot when there are this many tourists around. The street is so crowded you can barely make an inch of headway, trapped behind a family with a stroller in front, trapped in front of a pushy businessman who keeps stepping on your heels every two steps, and trapped next to a guy who is really into his airpods.

With the excess of caffeine still trying to make its way out of your system and the unforgiving heat of the sun beating against your back, it all has the effect of making you feel like you’re hung over. Your breakfast is roiling in your stomach. Sweat plastered against every inch of clothing. You don't know why you do this to yourself.

Every morning you tell yourself never again, and yet every night, there you were, spending half of your disposable income on energy drinks.

Starting from today, you're going cold turkey on the stuff. You've finally given up on trying to stay awake long enough to catch your super-stalker in his cookie burglar routine. Endlessly chugging down caffeine every night is not working out for you. Neither are the DIY mouse traps.

You're running low on ideas of how to trap him. You have nothing else to go on anymore. No idea on how to summon the man. The only time you know he'll be there is the moment before each near-death when he's there to save you.

What are you supposed to do with that? Purposely throw yourself off another building to lure him out?

That's crazy!

…Right?

But maybe... No! Definitely crazy.

Someone screams, and you snap out of your thoughts. There's yelling and terrified shrieks all around you. You're caught in the throng of people, panicked bodies pushing and pressing up against you, all of them trying to run the other way.

You dig in your heels, bracing yourself against the stampede of people. They’re pushing in from every direction until it’s impossible to move an inch. It’s hard to turn your body, when second after second, someone is pummeling into your side, knocking into your bruising shoulder. You barely manage to crane your neck back far enough when you finally spot it.

A red-green truck with a gigantic taco on its roof is careening towards you across the pavement, no driver behind the wheel. The sea of bodies parts around the out-of-control vehicle, people running left, right and forward to escape being crushed under the wheels.

There’s no time to react. It’s too close. Too fast.

A hand clutches at your wrist and pulls you backwards, your vision obscured as your face is pressed up against a familiar solid warmth.

"Hold onto me," he tells you, and you do.

You're held firm against him as the ground underneath your feet disappears, and everything feels weightless. Then all you hear is a loud thunderous crash.

Your feet touch back down on the ground, and the strong protective hold on you unravels.

When you open your eyes he's already gone. You're left on the corner of Lexington Avenue, still trying to catch your breath. The mob of people is still there all around you, but the panic has passed now, everyone is standing still. Everyone is observing the wreckage of the run amok truck that is now flipped onto its side, rendered harmless.

Miraculously, somehow, nobody around you seems visibly injured.

From a distance, you can hear sirens approaching with a deafening wail.

But your mind is elsewhere, on the shade of the familiar dark blue and red as you were being saved seconds ago. On his gentle voice in your ear that still thrums pleasantly in your chest.

You want to see him again.

It's Friday, and you break half an hour early for your designated 40 minutes of lunch, taking the elevator directly to the 72nd floor, which is under construction to renovate it into an open observation deck for the public next year.

The thing with commercial skyscrapers is that nowadays most of them have safety glass panels on all outside spaces of the upper floors to ensure that it is impossible to climb up the buildings and jump.

It's a safety feature that became standard after the financial crisis of 2008.

Turns out that imposing an 80 hour work week on your employees, where they don't get to see their family or friends or have a life outside of work, and then stripping them of their financial security makes a lot of people miserable and suicidal (who knew?)

The elevator pings open, and you exit into the construction zone, carefully avoiding the various tools scattered across the half-finished deck. On Fridays, the construction workers on the site leave by lunchtime, and the space is empty of people.

Step by step, you walk up towards the edge of the terrasse, until you stand before the temporary safety rail, looking out over the sprawling city below you. Cars look like tiny moving pebbles and the people, a hive of ants scurrying from street to street.

It’s a dizzying view. Both beautiful and grotesque in its grandeur. The 72nd floor will be 28 more floors to fall from than the 44th was.

The air around you seems to thin, and your stomach wants to crawl down to your feet and hold on to steady ground.

Taking a deep breath, you lift the hem of your shirt, running your hand over the safety harness strapped around your waist, reassuring yourself it's still there. Then you feel along the attached cord, using the carabiner at the end to clip it around the rod of the safety rail.

Being impulsive and daring in your quest is one thing. Reckless and stupid is another.

It’s not a real climbing rope and harness. Turns out professional safety gear is shockingly expensive, but you found a knock-off resistance training set, complete with harness and stretchy bungee cord rope, on Amazon for a very reasonable $15. You’ve already spent $72 on cookies, $50 dollars for a nanny cam set, and an extortionate $26 for stationary paper in your never-ending quest to lure out Fake Spiderman. You figure a rope is a rope, and you're not paying $100 more to get ripped off by the big climbing corporations. But you’re also not willing to go without.

After all, you've already fallen from the Chrysler building once, and you're not angling for a repeat.

As intent as you are on seeing your Spider-benefactor eye to eye, you're not quite prepared to die for the privilege. Your plan is just to make it look like you are going to jump.

Any superhero worth his dime wouldn't actually let you fall before they would be willing to save you.

That would be a real dick move.

You give your impromptu safety rig one last tug to make sure it's secure, then straighten your posture. Grabbing a hold of the metal rail, you hoist yourself up. You clamber onto it, gripping tight with shaking hands as you swing a leg over, straddling the bar.

Left leg then the right, until all of you are on the other side of the railing.

Then you stay there.

One second. Then two. You close your eyes and try not to look down at the many, many floors below, and how one gust of strong wind could probably knock you over and have you falling down the building again. You count the seconds that pass you by.

Five. Six. Seven.

A strong gust of wind blows through your side, and your legs buckle at the strong resistance, hand gripping down on the metal railing to hold yourself steady so you don't fall off.

Eightnineten! Ok. Fuck. No. You're good. Fuck this! He's not going to come.

If he didn’t come when you climbed over, he's not going to turn up now.

You briefly let go of the railing with one hand, adjusting your grip so you can climb back to safety. The sun beating down on your back disappears and is eaten up by a large and looming shadow. Every hair on the back of your neck prickles in warning.

Your reaction is too slow, you don't even have time to turn around to see what caused it. Then all you hear is an angry booming voice right next to your ear.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?!"

You panic, flinging out your hand to catch the bar, but the hard metal of the railings isn't there anymore.

There is a sharp metallic snap. The safety rope around your waist splits from the hasp.

He’s calling your name.

The world tilts and everything goes upside down along with it. Your stomach sinks with a sickening plummet, legs dropping through into zero gravity as you find yourself staring up at the blue and endless New York sky.

Then you're falling from the Chrysler building.

Again.

Fuck!

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproblemss who has to constantly listen to me jabber on about this day and night endlessly and forever. She is in every sense of the word a collaborator on this project. She brainstorms, she pitches in, she edits and she beta-reads. This and so many of my works would not exist without her, please send her all the love if you enjoyed this story.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

1K notes · View notes