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skyfallslayer · 10 months

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The Daughter of The (Dare)Devil - Story 10

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: A Series of stories revolving around the MCU timeline of Matt Murdock and his Daughter, Kaila. Being the child of a vigilante can be hard and scary at times, but it doesn’t mean she ain’t going to enjoy the most of it.

(Can be read as Y/N if you’d like)

Story Summary: Relieved that his daughter is finally home safe, Matt makes two life changing moves. First is to stop and help Frank Castle in any way he can; The second one? Finally asked Karen out on a date. A date that might have to get cut short when someone from his past shows up unexpectedly (Set During 2x04 & 2x05, “Penny & Dime” & “Kinbaku”).

Date: 7/26/23

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 14,016 (Ya'll deserve it)

Warning: Possible OOC (?); Karedevil; The Murdocks Are Stubborn People; Angst; Heavy Language; Allusions To Mental Illness; Bullet Wounds/Recovery; Child Abuse; Blood and Gore; Violence; Heavy Injuries; Talks of Death/Murder; The Murdocks Could Use All The Hugs In The World; A Brief Near Death Experience; Matt Being Overprotective (He Needs A Warning, I think?); Past Toxic Relationship(s); Elektra Could Use A Warning Herself; Suggestive 18+ Themes; READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

- Let me know if I missed anything, please.

A/N: First off, a small apology. Like I was replying to a DM a few days ago, I don't know what really happened. Despite the fact that my laptop took a dive, I ended up on a unexpected hiatus. Which... I think was a good thing for me. It gave me enough time to take a step back after slowly becoming burnt out from writing. But I'm back! I promise I won't go MIA without saying something next time. So, sorry again! But the story you all have been waiting for has returned!

Secondly, Don't let this story fool you, I don't necessarily hate Elektra. I just don't like the fact how toxic she was for Matt and how she tried to change him after finally getting in a good place in his life. So I'm going to change Canon a little bit (Which shouldn't be a surprise since I've been doing that already). Other than that, Enjoy, my loves!

- Fifteen Years Ago -

His only comfort was the pittering of the rain against his window. He sat on his bed, feet touching the ground, his phone in hand; His finger hovered over the voice command. His mind racing over and over and over with the question of–

Should I?

He wants answers. Sure they didn’t leave on a good note, but shouldn’t she give him some kind of explanation? It’s only been two weeks, surely she hasn’t left the area already…

Right? But even a part of him knew she probably was long gone just like the cops said, yet he still held on to some kind of hope that’ll he be able just to talk to her at least once. To just ask the “simple” question of… ‘Why?’.

He rubs his face with an open hand, fingers massaging the dark circles under his blind pupils. He didn't need sight to know they were getting worse and worse everyday.

He sighs.

Loudly.

Heavily.

He let every ounce of emotion into that one.

He didn’t care.

I’m really drowning right now. And indeed he was, however–

His thoughts immediately fade away when he hears the familiar cries he’s gotten used to. Out of instinct, Matt lets his phone slip away as he slides down to the end of his bed, shifting his body down to carefully take his baby in his arms from the bassinet. He remembers how he was taught to hold his child properly, a consistent drill from the nurses and Mrs. Nelson badgered him with (mostly from Mrs. Nelson).

He shushes quietly in the attempts to calm her. “Hey, hey. Shush. You’re okay, you’re okay.” He whispers, exhaustion in his undertone.

God, he was so tired.

He whispers some more, his daughter starting to calm down into tiny whimpers. His face quirked into something bittersweet.

“Did you have a nightmare?” He asked, wanting to stroke those little teardrops away, but he was too afraid to free one of his hands out of concern of dropping her. “I have those too sometimes.” He chuckles humorlessly. “I guess those can be hereditary.”

He still has those kinds of dreams. Memories from his childhood. All the dark shit he’s been through, he’ll see them every once a while. His father’s dying day, His time in the orphanage, His roller coaster of past relationships. It’ll take turns haunting him. Taunting him. Egging him to give back in, crawl back into that dark hole. Jump off the edge.

It eats him alive every single time.

Matt’s lip twitched. “Sorry. That was a bad joke.” He admits, trying to look on the positive side. “Although, your Uncle probably would have come up with something more corny than that. Right?”

He could feel her tiny gaze, something he was still trying to picture what it meant. Happiness? Sadness? Confusion?

He sighs. “I wish I could see you. It’ll make this easier.” So much easier. “It’ll make your life easier. I’m not going to be the… typical parent of the group. So, I’m… sorry.”

How the hell was he going to do this? How was he supposed to help her through life? Through her first steps? Through school? Through any hardships she faces? How was he supposed to help when he feels like he’s drowning?

How am I supposed to be a father when I don’t know what I’m doing? How am I supposed to be a father when I can’t even see your face?

He heard the front door open and close. The person entering was setting their bag aside and kicking off their shoes and heavy jacket before strolling over where he’s been sitting for who knows how long now. Matt could smell the sweat on his friend’s brow and a light drum beat from his chest that told him his friend had been in a hurry to get here.

“Matt?” Foggy said, peeking inside the bedroom. A look of relief crosses his face upon seeing his college buddy. “Sorry I’m late.”

Matt couldn’t help but smile at his consideration. “Nah, you��re good, Foggy.” He said, half heartedly (he just hopes he doesn't have a look of desperation plastered on). He felt those hazel eyes scanning him head to toe, concerned.

“Have you been up since this morning?” Foggy asked, remembering he had called around eight this morning. There was a pause of hesitation from the blind man before he ended up nodding. He frowns worriedly. “Matt–”

“Please, don’t lecture me.” Matt said, sounding like a little kid cowering with fear.

Foggy felt his heart hurt from it. “I wasn’t.” He promises, his frown deepening. “Have you eaten?”

Another small nod. “Yeah. I ate a little.”

“Showered?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“I…” Matt felt his chest get tight as he stumbled with his words. “Don’t want to leave the room for too long.”

Foggy couldn’t help but laugh. “Matt, you can take her in the bathroom. Just put the bassinet by the door.”

His face scrunched up. “Isn’t that weird?”

Another laugh. “Okay, how old is she again? Two months old? Even if she sees you naked she’s not going to remember.”

Matt closes his eyes to sigh. “Yeah, yeah. I guess…”

Foggy shakes his head. “You need to sometimes turn that Catholic brain of yours off, Murdock.” He replies, coming to sit down. Upon sitting he felt something underneath him and pulled out his friend’s phone. It didn’t take long to figure out what he was doing. “Did you call Mary?”

“Tried…” Matt chews on his cheek. “I uh… I just want some answers. I mean she’s… the mother so, I would think she would be… more capable at this. I mean why would she give her kid to a blind man who has no idea how–”

“Okay, going to stop you there.” Foggy butts in, hand coming to rest on the troubled man’s shoulder. “Even if you thought Mary was more capable, you’re still the father, you know? Blind or not, parenting isn't easy. Trust me. My own parents made that very clear. I’m sure your dad told you something along those lines too.”

Matt grew quiet for a second, thinking. “Yeah. I guess you have a point.” He shifts his gaze in his direction. “But it’s just… it’s frustrating. I-I can’t see so I… I-I have no idea how she’s feeling half the time. I’m scared that if I get that wrong I’m going to hurt her.”

Foggy squeezes his shoulder comfortably. “I know, man. I know.”

“And she’s… s-so tiny, Foggy.” He whispers, fearfully. “So tiny and I’m… a big guy. I-I feel like I’m… like I’m drowning because I don’t know what to do.”

Now it was his turn to get quiet. Foggy was trying to figure out how to phrase the next few words without striking too deep. “Do you regret your decision to keep her?”

“No, no, no.” Matt shakes his head. “I just… I-I love her, she’s my daughter. But there’s… times I wonder if…” He swallows. “If she would be… better not in my care.”

Those words hurt to even say, but it was true. Maybe this would have all been better if he went through with the adoption.

As the processing time ended, Matt felt Foggy’s arms wrap around his shoulders, cautious of the baby, and placed his head against him. Matt couldn’t help but lean into the touch he felt like he suddenly craved, and tried not to cry.

“Matt–” Foggy begins, his voice full of warmth and love. “You’re going to do great. Sure it’s hard, and it’s always going to be hard, but under all that exhaustion I can see how much you love this kid. You’re going to be an amazing dad.”

Matt chuckles, somewhere between disbelief and relief. “You r-really think so?” He said, swallowing again as his throat tightens.

“I know so.” Foggy pulls back. “Trust me, Buddy. I’ve seen the emotions you pack. I can already picture you picking her up on her first day of school, or helping her get a summer job, or walking her down the aisle for her big day.”

Matt raises an eyebrow. “Who says she’s getting married?”

“See?” Foggy lightly slaps him in the arm, grinning. “You’re already accepting the universal dad laws. Never letting your daughter near a boy her age. You know when my niece was born, my brother was pretty much ready to lock her in a tower far, far away. Surrounded by a dragon that was fifty feet tall, which breathed hot fire.”

Matt laughed again. “Uh, not sure if Amazon sells dragons but… the tower I can find and work with.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m pretty sure New York has some of those.”

“How will I know they do?”

Foggy snorts and gives him a small shove while playfully saying his name. He finally felt a bit of success bloom when he noticed his friend’s happy face staying the same. “You’re doing great, man. But if you ever need help, Me and The Nelsons are here to help.”

Matt’s smile widens genuinely. “Thank you, Foggy.”

“Don’t even mention it.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

-Present Day-

Matt’s eyes open at the shift in the bed, he sets his blind gaze in that direction, quietly listening to see if she is awake.

She wasn’t. Good.

She needed to sleep.

It’s been about a week since the incident, and they’ve just gotten out of the hospital yesterday, and to his surprise (Well, he really shouldn’t be), his daughter wanted to stay pretty close to him for a while; Not that he was complaining. He wanted this too.

He shifted his own weight too, rolling to his side for a better view. She had gently wrapped herself in his blankets, and had carefully propped her injured leg on a pillow. His daughter finally looked like she was at peace, especially since he could tell she wasn’t suffering anymore night terrors.

Good. She doesn’t need that right now. He remembers she had one after Brett left the hospital room, her body finally giving out after the nightmarish incident. He remembers she bolted up, drenching in sweat as her heart raced a mile a minute. She was hyperventilating in a way he’s never heard before as she started muttering. ‘Where is he?’ or ‘Where am I?’. It broke his soul to her muttering, to feel her shake in his arms as he calmed her down. He never wants to go through that experience again.

I wonder if Brett’s figured anything out? The whole kidnapping situation still wasn’t adding up. Why was this… man who claims to be their first client’s brother kidnap his daughter? Because… what? Nelson and Murdock ‘failed’ him? This just didn’t sit right with him. And Matt recalls when the man said something about a Boss. Boss? What Boss? Who could this Boss be? Who wanted to hurt Matt Murdock more than the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? It just didn’t make any–

His daughter’s phone chimes loudly, the sound of a notification hit his ears quickly. Despite not being able to see it, he tries his best to reach over to the side table to hit the button to mute the sound. However his speedy actions cause a stir in his bed.

Kaila grumbles in her sleep, eye opening half lid. “Is it morning yet?”

Matt shifts back around, frowning at himself as he shakes his head. “No, no. Not yet.” He replies, gazing at her. “Go back to sleep.”

“Are you going out?”

That was like a little needle in chest, and made his face soften. “No. I’m not going out.”

“Shouldn’t you though?” She asked, dazed and confused.

“No. Not until I know you’re okay.” He brushes some of her stray hair out of her face, tucking it away gently. “Go back to sleep, baby girl.”

She hums at his touch and words, closing her eyes again, snuggling up the mattress some more. “M’kay… love you…”

He smiles. “Love you.” He waits for her to fall back to sleep before he does, closing his own eyes and forcing himself to sleep lightly for obvious reasons.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He opens the door to the light knocking, a soft smile on his face as he senses who it was. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Karen said, with a small wave and her little quirky bow of her head.

“I'm just about ready.” Matt explains letting her in and walking towards his living room to finish up.

“Okay.” She closes the door behind him, watching him closely as he struggles to finish his tie. “Uh, here, let me help with that.”

“Oh, thanks.”

She hums in reply, getting real close to help him out. She mentally curses at herself when she could hear her own heart in her ears. Now that she knew his secret, she felt embarrassed by everything she did in the past.

Karen bites the inside of her cheek, keeping her eyes on the fabric in her hand. “You feeling any better?” She asked, knowing the last few nights were rough in the hospital.

Matt nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good… Now.” He swallows and whispers as she finishes, “With you.” He felt her curious eyes on him, now he felt embarrassed by what he just said. “Uh, not that I can verify, but you seem good at this.”

She brushes off her flustered face with laughter. “Uh, well, my brother wasn't, so that's where I came in.”

“Your brother must have been lucky for you.” He soon regretted saying those words as soon as it rolled off his tongue. Matt didn’t miss the goosebumps suddenly covering her body, and how her heart rate went up three notches. He frowns, concernedly. “Karen… You okay?”

She pales. “Um–”

“I thought I heard Karen.” Kaila says, coming into the room (unknowingly saving the day). She had her backpack in hand while her free one was gripping the crutch she was given for support.

In a motherly way, the blonde comes over to take the bag. “Let me grab that. That looks heavy.” She replies, slinging it over her own shoulder despite the teen’s protests.

“I can carry it.”

“The doctor said nothing too heavy, which…” Karen gestures to the bag and makes a face. “What’s in this?”

Kaila shrugs. “I gotta keep myself entertained somehow, because I ain’t doing you guys’ paperwork when I get there.”

Karen shakes her head, turning away towards the front door. Matt comes over next while sliding his jacket on, worriedness creeping on his face.

“You feeling okay?” He asked, hearing her crack a smile.

“Yes, Dad. I’m good. A little sore, but I’m alright.” Kaila replies, honestly. “So…” Her eyes flickered to the woman by the door before back at her father. “When’s the date?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “The what?”

“The date?” She chuckles at his puzzled expression. “Come on, Dad. I see the googly eyes, and you can cut the sexual tension in here with a knife.” She jabs him in the arm as he mouth becomes agape. “So when is it?”

“There’s no date.” He says, expressionless.

“But you want there to be.”

“Uh, well–”

“She knows you’re the devil, and she didn’t run away. I’d say that’s a keeper.” She walks past him, hand patting him on the arm. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“He’s lucky to be alive.” Karen says, as Kaila holds up an x-ray of the Punisher’s skull for them to see. “This is all of the stuff that the DA’s collecting for her case. And most of it’s about the Punisher’s victims. The Dogs of Hell, the cartel... But this was in the middle of it. Not someone he shot, him.”

“He’s insane.” Foggy says, as he, and everyone in the room, looked unwell by the picture. “Maybe he shot himself.”

“But he saved me.” Kaila points out, puzzled and baffled at the same time. When she learned that this was the man that helped save her from Baldy, the man known as ‘Punisher’, she was honestly surprised by how much of a bloody trail he’s really left behind.

“I know, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t.”

“I-I thought about that, but at that close of a range…” Karen trails off, waiting for someone to finish.

Which was Matt with, “Yeah, he’d be dead already.”

“Okay, not to go all tin-foil hat here, but Tower obviously slipped this to me for a reason. What if the Punisher isn’t the worst of it? What if Reyes is trying to cover something up?”

Now it was Foggy’s turn to look surprised. “You think that murderous psychopath isn’t the worst of it?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “And I think our best shot at protecting Nelson and Murdock is to find him.”

“It’s our best shot at career suicide or just getting shot.”

“She kind of has a point, Foggy.” Matt says, hands on his hips.

Foggy blinks in disbelief. “How?”

“I owe it to Frank, alright. He saved my daughter.”

“I know that. But what if he was just trying to get something out of you? Like an IOU? Or maybe he’s trying to pin the blame on you? Have you thought of that?”

“I have. But I don’t think those options are logical.”

“How? In what way is it not?”

Matt frowns. “He told me, ‘He expects me to do the same. Father to Father’. He’s a family man, or at least he was, I get the impression.”

Foggy sighs. “Look. Even if he is, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a dangerous man that tried to kill our client and a couple other groups of people.” The phone starts ringing and he gets up. “Just think about what I said, okay? I don’t want you getting shot again.”

Karen looks Matt’s way, confused. “Shot again?”

“Uh, he…” He clears his throat, blind gaze going somewhere else. “Kind of shot me in the head when I first met him.”

Her eyes widened. “Huh?”

“It was the day you came for a visit and I was pissed at him.” Kaila replies, setting the x-ray down after gazing at it for so long. “He went temporarily deaf too.”

“You went deaf?!” Karen said, scolding. She watches him shrug sheepishly before sighing. “And I thought I was insane.”

“Welcome to having a Murdock in your life.”

She sighs again, rubbing her face. “Okay, I… I know this Punisher, or Frank, is a lunatic, but–”

“But you care, anyway?” Matt finishes.

“I wouldn’t say that, it’s more like curiosity. In between these files and… Reyes’ obsession and the fact that humans are a pretty complicated species to begin with, I just feel like there’s gotta be more to the story.”

He hums. “I think you are.”

She scoffs. “Oh, my God, you think I'm insane.”

Matt chuckles at her reaction. “I’m kidding. You’re compassionate. It’s a good quality, Karen. Stuff of saints.”

Karen frowns. “Yeah, well, I’m no saint…” She mumbles, looking away (Kaila does too for obvious reasons).

Matt, sensing something was off, replies with, “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that.”

“Matt!” Foggy calls from his office. “We have real, live, non-criminal clients who need our help.”

“Excuse me for a second.” He excused himself and entered the room. “Tell me.”

“Mr. DiPesta defaced the elevator in his building.”

“Which, technically, makes him a criminal.”

“That’s what his slumlord, excuse me, landlord says, but look. He’s got no AC, no hot water. This has Nelson and Murdock written all over it. But we gotta file today. Kar–”

“Dad!” Kaila shouts, and the boys immediately run back to the front at a quick speed. She was standing at the door that was open. “Karen told me she’d drive me home later and then left.”

“Maybe she just stepped out for some fresh air.” Foggy suggested just as Matt suddenly had a sinking feeling.

“Did she take the files?” The blind lawyer asked, worriedly.

“I think so. She grabbed some folder quickly that I didn’t see.” Kai continues, as her father feels around her desk; His head drops immediately while sighing.

“Shit.” Foggy rubs his head.

“I have to find her.” Matt said, already shedding some of his work attire for some street clothes.

“Find Frank first.”

“Already planning on it.”

“But, Dad–” Kaila begins, watching him slide a sweatshirt on. “You didn’t bring your suit.”

“I don’t need it.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“I’ve been waiting to pick up my new one. Reinforced alloy.”

“Which means…?” She trails off with her eyebrow raised.

And with a ghost of a smile he says,

“Which means I won’t get shot again,”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Thanks to Karen’s A+ detective work, she manages to track down George Buck, a nurse with an… interesting past experience. It took a little bit to convince him to walk along the Hudson, just a small bribe of getting coffee.

“You were with him when this was taken?” She asked, ready to jot down the mental notes in her head.

“Yeah.” He replies, nodding. “That bullet tore through his head. Not many people survive that.”

“Well, I’d like to know what you remember.”

“John Doe. Guy was a total vegetable. I guess that’s why they decided he only needed one nurse.”

“Any family or visitors?” She knew Frank was a father judging by what he said to Matt, but still wanted to know if they were still around.

“No. I mean aside from the suits.”

“Suits?”

“Yeah. Uh, sometimes men, sometimes women. You can tell ‘em ‘cause they all wear the same ear pieces. That and the black suits. Kind of like uh…” He trails off while gesturing to the open air, hoping she gets the idea.

“Got any idea who these suits were?” She asked, curiously.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Uh, but they had their run of the place and they were the ones that pushed for the, uh, the DNR.”

She tilts her head. “A ‘do not resuscitate’?”

“Yeah. They had the paperwork. And I was there when the doctor pulled the plug.”

“I…I’m confused.” This wasn’t making any sense. “You’re saying this guy died?”

“Yeah, for about a minute. It’s crazy, but they say it happens sometimes. You know, one minute, flatline, then boom.” George’s eyes widened with the shock that was still there. “His heart starts back up again. On its own. He just didn’t wanna die. Within ten minutes of being awake… h-he reaches up and grabs my scrubs, yanks me down, and says, real close ‘Take me home’.” He frowns, guilty. “I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve known it’d get me fired.”

Now this got her interest peaked even more. “His home.” She tests out, hopeful. “Do you have an address?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

As the sun finally kissed the sky goodnight, Frank was reliving his gut wretched past. He could still hear the music from the carousel; His children’s laughter; His wife’s beautiful words.

All of it.

The lights of the morbid thing only go off when the ride stops and everyone walks away with a smile on their face. Now all he sees is the silhouette that haunts him in his dreams. And with his extra sense, Frank quickly notices the mysterious man sitting on the next bench over, grinning like the son of a bitch he was.

“Nice night.” Is what he said, causing the ex-soldier some confusion. Before Frank could say anything, the man, who’s name was Rory, flashed the gun in his belt and replied, “I’m not alone.”

Right on cue people were coming in every direction, an expressionless feature greeted him.

Rory continues to boast saying, “You wanna come with us? Or you wanna make a mess?”

Frank, wasting no time, goes for him and starts beating him up, not caring that Rory had stuck some kind of needle into his neck. Rory’s guys move in only for Frank to take them all out with a single bullet each. But as soon as he thought the fight was over, someone knew entered the ring and shot his challenger.

The Punisher stumbled on his own two feet as the sedative kicked in, but his spirit wouldn’t be broken yet until he knew who this other person was.

The Irish gang leader, Finn, strolls over with his own set of individuals, looking more cocky than the man before. “Well, thanks for thinning out the herd. You’re surrounded, son. Now be a good lad and drop the iron.” He says, just as his men pointed their laser at his prey’s chest. “Come on. You seem like a smart one.”

With strong will, Frank tries to advance, only to be shot with various tasers and rendered unconscious.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt waited until he came out from the crime scene from the Irish themed bar. He stayed in the vibrant black and red light, ignoring the gun that was trained on.

“I need to know what happened here.” Sounds more like a demand than a question.

Mahoney looks behind him, nervously. “I’m not telling you shit.” He whispers, harshly. “You helped us catch Fisk, that don’t make us friends.”

“Was this the Punisher?”

“Jesus. The Irish, okay? To find the Punisher. They put a bounty on his head. Now people all over the Kitchen are getting hurt. It’s the goddamn Wild West out there.”

“Have the Irish found him?”

“As long as we keep getting calls like this, I guess not.” Mahoney watches as the vigilante seems satisfied with his answer, and was about to leave, although the cop was concerned for his safety. “Hey, stay out of it. You hear me?”

“I just wanna help, Sergeant.”

“No, you can’t help this one.”

“We’re on the same side, you and I.”

“Listen, You’re–”

‘2-Adam, shots fired. 65th Street transverse, by the carousel. All units to back.’

Mahoney touches his radio, eyes moving away. “Fifteen Sergeant responding, Central.” He replies, just as Matt makes his move to leave. Once seeing this, he couldn’t help but shake his head.

Jesus, Murdock. Stay out of this for once.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The window rolled down completely to see Foggy’s smugged face. “Ah, look who finally showed up. Did Cinderella really want to go to the ball that bad?” He asked as Karen sighed apologetically.

“I’m really, really sorry, Foggy.” She says, honest.

“It’s okay, just remember, we’re your friends. We worry.” He says, as she apologizes again. “It’s okay. Seriously. But don’t run off like that again. I’m still technically your boss.”

Karen snickers. “Alright, Boss man, I’ll remember to ask.”

“Thank you, my lovely co-worker.” He smiles and gestures for the teenager to come over. “Ready, K-Pop?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Kaila replies as he opens the passenger door. “Thanks.”

“Sure you don’t want a ride?” Karen asked, as he shook his head.

“No thanks. You know I live in the opposite direction.” Foggy said, waving them goodbye. “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.”

The girls wave back as he takes a few steps down the sidewalk looking for a cab. As the young Murdock starts putting her seat belt on, she could see the blonde’s mind practically racing over something. It especially was clear when she was gnawing on her bottom lip and her fingers lightly drum the steering wheel.

You can really never turn that Reporter brain of yours off, huh Karen?

“You ready?” The blonde asked with a ghost of a smile.

Kaila tilts her head, feeling her out. “You’re taking me back home, right?”

“Yeah.” Karen said, nodding.

The teenager raises a knowing eyebrow. “But I can tell you don’t want to.” She says, ignoring Karen’s shocked face. She sighs and rolls the window back down, poking her head out just enough to still see her Uncle. “Hey, Foggy!”

The man perked up at his name just as he was raising his hand for a cab. He wastes no time to jog back over, concern on his features. “What’s up?”

“Get in.” Kaila jerks her head towards the backseat. “We’re breaking and entering.”

Those hazel eyes of his batted quickly, bafflingly. “What?”

“I said, get in the car. We’re going to need a lawyer if this goes south.”

“...What–”

“Just get in the car, Foggy.” Kaila said a bit more stern, which managed to get his ass in the back seat, muttering about what was going on. She pays no heed to him for a second and looks back at Karen who still had the same exact look on her face from a moment ago. “All yours, Cap.”

“Huh?” Karen looks between the teenager and the road ahead of her, debating. “Kai, I really shouldn’t–”

“Listen. I don’t really know who he is, but he saved my life. Whatever you have in mind, we owe it to him.” She smiles bittersweetly. “It’s the least we can do. Right?”

Karen took a minute to let it sink in, before putting her game face back on and taking the car out of park. While she starts pulling away, their guest in the back still seemed clueless about what this really was.

“What exactly is going on here?” Foggy asked, watching as the two girls give each other a look before deciding on a way to spill it to him.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Rory did his best to pretend to be dead, but once the Irish took away the Punisher, he made his move.

Somewhat.

His leg was dead weight from the bullet wound, so his only option was to crawl across the grounds around the carousel. He was using all the adrenaline he had to make his getaway, but that dream seemed short lived when the Devil was suddenly peering down at him. He was soon pinned against the ride, his wrist broken so fast when he tried to use his gun, causing him even more agony than necessary.

“Who did this?” Daredevil snared, still holding a nice grip on the man’s wrist.

Rory clenches his jaw as he tries to catch his breath. “People you don’t mess with.”

With the subtle tilt of his head, he replies, “You’re bleeding out. And I got all night.”

“Go to hell!!”

Matt twists his arm, getting him to cry again. “Who did this?”

“The one they call Punisher.”

“Where is he?”

Rory lets out a laugh. “It doesn’t matter ‘cause when we’re done with him, he’s as good as dead.”

Matt mentally sighs, “That’s helpful.” He mumbles, and twists a bit more, causing a louder scream. “But it’s not what I asked.”

His voice grows darker just as the sirens around them become louder and louder; and with a look of fear in his eyes…

Rory spilled everything.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

So this is the Castle family’s house? The trio was thinking as they parked their car across the street before trekking along the darkness to the back door.

“So, what are we doing here again?” Foggy asked, feeling like he was still in the dark about everything.

“We’re going to find anything that can help us with understanding Frank.” Karen explains, surveying the area.

“And how are we going to find something by looking at a house?”

“Because we’re going to be looking…” She slowly gestures to the back door. “Inside the house.”

His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“What– Karen, we can’t just–” Foggy trails off when he notices the teenager, crouching down carefully and jiggling a lock with a bobby pin. With a disapproving touch of his hand on her shoulder, he says, “Uh, excuse me, young lady. How do you know how to do this?”

Kaila smirks. “Remember that ‘secret’ candy drawer in your apartment?”

“Yeah…” He gasps quietly. “You were the one stealing from there?! Why?”

“Because–” She shrugs. “I wanted candy and you weren’t giving me any.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re in so much trouble. I interrogated a lot of people over that!”

“Yeah, and I lied. Sorry,” She pauses for a second. “Huh, and my dad knew the whole time.”

“You’re so grounded.”

She continues jiggling the lock until they hear a small ‘click’. She grins, standing up and grabbing her crutch as she moves inside, the other two following swiftly. The first thing they noticed beside the darkness was how cold the house was, and how you couldn’t hear anything. It made them all get goosebumps and a slight shock up their spines.

All having the same idea, Karen, Foggy and Kaila slowly start walking around the house with their phones’ flashlights. Going from the kitchen in the back to the main area. When they slowly start to make things out, Karen pulls a tissue from her purse, carefully grabbing and examining things as Foggy looks around, paling.

“This is really eerie, Karen.” Foggy replies, feeling his heart skip a beat.

“Well, I wasn’t really expecting a picnic in here either.” She says, feeling the same way.

But to add more to their emotions, the three of them nearly jolted out of their own skins when Kaila’s crutch hit a small toy frog on the floor, activating it.

“Jesus…” Kaila muttered, holding her chest before sighing with relief. “What was that?”

Foggy shines the light where he heard it land, frowning. “It’s a wind up toy.” Then the realization hit. “Oh, God… He really was a father.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt arrives at the scene just as Frank manages to get himself untied and kill Finn while muttering a very… interesting phrase. He knocks out the two that would have put a few more bullets into Castle’s brain before cautiously walking towards him, but there was still a concerned aura around him.

Frank’s face twitched in anger. “They’re gonna pay. Every single goddamn one of ‘em.” He spews with boiling venom.

“They will.” Matt agrees before shaking his head. “But not tonight. Move. And no killing.”

Frank gives him a glare. “Altar boy.” He replies before grabbing something he could use as a weapon.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After a while, it was starting to become more and more heavy. It hit even harder when they came across the table filled with very depressing items. It made the whole situation worse than they thought.

Kaila stares at all the bouquets of flowers sent with condolence cards. The cards were addressed to none other than Frank Castle himself. She finds herself feeling very teary eyed.

“This is really…” She trails off, heart hurting. She couldn’t find the right word to say. Losing your entire family? In one night? She could only imagine what this must feel like.

So this is why Frank wanted to help my dad.

“I guess this explains his actions as the Punisher.” Karen said, standing next to her, looking the same. “I guess anyone would do the same thing in his shoes…”

“No shit.”

“Looks like he was a war hero, too.” Foggy calls out to them, getting them to turn around to face the wall of memorabilias. Sure enough there was Frank in uniform in several pictures, and a couple of his metals were on display. “And this is where his sniper skills come from.”

“Now it all makes sense.” Karen said, looking over them carefully, imprinting the images in her head.

“True. But–”

On cue, the three of them immediately turned their flashlights off when a vehicle pulled in front of the house. The headlights powered off just as Karen decides to take a peak. And just like the nurse from earlier was describing, here comes both men and women in black suits strolling out of the yellow van.

“Shit…” She whispers, letting go of the curtain.

What the fuck do we do now?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

On the other side of town, after an intense battle for their lives, Matt found himself carefully setting down a heavily injured Frank Castle against a tombstone. The man grunted at the way his body seemed to mold against it, his adrenaline finally wearing off.

“Hey.” Frank begins, panting. He spares the blind man a glance. “Not bad.”

“Thanks.” Matt said, breathing through his nostrils.

“I guess I, uh… I guess I was wrong.”

A tilt in his head. “About?”

“About you being a pussy.”

“Don’t get all sweet on me now, Frank.” Matt said, getting a laugh which soon turned into a coughing fit. He frowns worriedly. “Help’s on the way.”

“Nah.” Frank shakes his head. “You should go. I’m past saving. At least I’d have company, right?” A sigh. “I think I might cash out. You’d have made a hell of a Marine, Red.”

There was a twinge of guilt as he could hear the sincerity from his voice. Although Frank was the definition of ‘rough around the edges’, he could still see the soft and wonderful man he really was underneath.

It made Matt feel like shit to even think about.

“That rhyme. What's it mean?” Matt asked, genuinely curious while crouching down.

This catches Frank off guard for the first time in a while. “What’d you say? …Huh?”

“The thing you say. Right before you pull the trigger.”

“What do you… You heard that?”

“Well, when you’re a blind man, your other senses get heightened so… yeah, I heard it.”

Frank blinks in disbelief. “What the…” He sighs, not even going to question it. “I gotta say, sometimes... Sometimes I think you really just might be the devil.”

Matt nods in agreement. “Sometimes I think I might be, too.”

“It’s, uh…” Frank begins, already getting choked up. “One batch, two batch. Penny and dime, you know. It was her favorite book. You know, you… You gotta cross the ocean… and go fight. You see… whole time you’re thinking you’re gonna be scared, right? But then, you’re not. See, that part of it was always easy for me. Killing. Even watching my buddies die, it just… it didn’t mean nothing.”

His face twitches. “The first time I got scared was on a plane on the way home. I kept thinking God was gonna pull the rug out from under us, you know? Shit, that’s his kind of funny, you know. But the plane landed safe and we were home. Driving through traffic. Yeah, you pass fast food and donut shops and all that… that greasy shit. It’s the shit you fought to protect and then the car stops. We were outside her school. I get to her classroom, right?”

Frank keeps going as Matt slowly sinks himself into the ground, listening wholeheartedly. “She’s in there… but she’s got no idea.” His dark eyes glisten with tears. “She’s got no idea that Daddy’s home. I walk in, these kids, they’re not even studying, they’re–” He chuckles. “Doing some kind of yoga. Yeah. You know? She’s there. She’s doing her poses, you know. She’s bending and, you know, she’s moving. She looks like a flower. Yeah. And, you know, you can’t even understand it, you know, how does something like that have... How does something that beautiful– How does that… does that come from me, you know? I know you probably do. Don’t you?”

Matt nods. “Yeah. I do.” He could relate to that. Sometimes his daughter was so pure compared to him. So innocent despite the things she’s seen. It hurts a lot to think about sometimes.

Frank smiles brightly. “And she looks up and she sees me. I see her. By God, that’s real. That’s real, Red. Boom. In an instant, she’s across that classroom floor, she’s in my arms. She’s squeezing me so tight, I swear I was gonna bust a rib, you know? We just stayed there like that, we’re holding each other. Teacher, she’s filming the whole thing on her phone, you know, she’s gonna put it on YouTube or some shit. She can’t hold the thing steady, because, you know, she’s… she’s bawling so hard, and the kids are all wailing, you know, they’re screaming. And me? Shit, I’m the worst of all. I’m a… I’m a rubber-face clown, you know. I cried so hard.”

He looks up to the sky, trying to hold the floodgates from opening. “But not my baby. Not my girl. You know, she’s my girl. She’s… She’s not crying, she’s holding me up. My girl, she’s keeping me on my feet.” He sucks in a shaky breath. “She says, ‘I knew it, Daddy. I knew it.’ And then we go home. Wife, the boy. Place is the exact same. It’s like it was just holding its breath waiting for me to get back, you know? Then it hit me.”

Now he sounds desperate. “All of it, you know. The first time I felt how tired I was, you know, I was just tired, you know? You… Y-You ever been tired, Red?”

“Yeah.” Matt nods, sadly, knowing that feeling so very well. He’s known it his entire life.

“So, you know. It’s just, I couldn’t do nothing, you know?” Frank's lip quivered. “All the things… I couldn’t take my wife to bed. Ball with the boy. Shit, I was too tired, I couldn’t even drink a goddamn beer, you know. But not her. My girl was up. See, she wanted me to, uh… she wanted me to tuck her in. She… She outgrew it, she knew it, but she didn’t care. She wanted it. She had that book. Her favorite book was out on the pillows.

“‘One Batch, Two Batch Penny and Dime’. Yeah. I read her that book every night before this shit. I read it every single night, but, see, that was over now because Daddy’s home now. She looked at me and she begged me, Red. She begged. She begged. I said, ‘No… Daddy’s too tired, see. But I’ll… I’ll read to you tomorrow night. I’ll read to you tomorrow night, I promise’. Yeah. Never think that… for her there was not gonna be any tomorrow, see. The last time I’d see her, I’d be holding her lifeless body in my arms. Meat was spilling out of her, Red. The place where her face used to be.”

Frank casts a glance at the vigilante, pity on his features. “As much as I hated you for interfering with my work… I couldn’t stand the thought of another father going through that. I don’t think I could stand seeing you holding your daughter in your arms like that. Wailing like a baby, praying that the clock would turn back and the bullets would come for you instead. I didn’t want that for you.” He sighs, letting go of everything. “No. I think I’m done, Red. I think I’m done.”

Matt opens his mouth to speak, but a cop car pulls up with two officers hopping out, drawing their guns from their holsters.

“Police.” Brett said, walking at them at a steady pace. “Don’t move. Hands where I can see ‘em.” He sounded and seemed so disappointed. “Shots fired. Bodies, mayhem and shit. How come I just knew you weren’t going to listen?”

“I have something for you, Sergeant.” Matt said, standing up and giving them a view of the Punisher.

“That’s him?” Brett asked, getting a nod. “Cover him and get EMS.”

“Yep.” His partner replies, and moves around the Daredevil for the other man.

“And you, you incredible pain in my ass.” Brett continues, sheathing his gun as he makes the man before him kneel, hands behind his back. “I really wished you listened.”

“Get him help.” Was Matt’s reply.

“Shut up.” He starts pulling out his handcuffs. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Take the collar.”

Brett falters his movements. “What?”

“You heard me.” Matt replies with a bite. “You caught him, not me. It can’t be me, it has to be you.”

“Why?”

“To protect the Kitchen. For law, for order.”

“You’re telling me how to file a report now?”

“Yeah.” Matt scoffs. “Take the collar. Take the credit. Get a promotion, if you can. You’ve earned it.”

Brett purses his lip. “Bullshit.”

“No, people have to know the system works. Not his justice and not mine. Vigilante days are done in this town. The police are in charge.”

“That’s not how it happened.”

“Then make it how it happened.”

The cop closes his eyes, realizing he is speaking the truth. “Shit…”

“EMT and backup on the way. Two minutes out.” The other officer calls out.

Brett sighs, and pulls Matt up from the ground. “Go. Go!” He shouts, making the devil run off into a sprint, leaving him with a newfound understanding.

Now I really know that’s you, Matt. A smile graced his lips for a split second just as thunder rumbled the sky and rain started to fall.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Miraculously, the troublesome trio somehow got out of the house without being seen. Which ended up being Karen taking Kaila’s crutch from her hand, and Foggy throwing the girl over his shoulder like a shake of potatoes. On the drive back was a mixture of anxiety and small bickering. How in the world are they going to explain this to their vigilante friend? As Foggy puts it, they’re ‘so fucked’.

But they eventually could release a breath of relief as they arrived back in the city, and back on route to where they were supposed to have gone in the first place. And despite their protests, the exhausted teenager went inside the apartment alone as the adults watched from the car.

“Think she’ll be okay by herself?” Karen asked, being a mother hen she was.

Foggy nods. “She should be fine. She’s just going to sleep.” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Matt’s going to be so pissed when I tell him what she can do. Fuck. He’s going to be pissed at all of us.”

“I’ll take the blame again.”

“Oh, hell yeah you are.”

Suddenly her phone starts to ring, a picture of Matt appears along with his favorite song.

Oh, yes…

Perfect timing Mr. Daredevil.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After picking up their important guest, who had slipped a long coat over his costume, he had Karen drive them all back to the same apartment, watching/listening to the “news of the year” on the phone:

‘Frank Castle, the gunman wanted in connection with the Metro-General shooting and linked to dozens of recent gangland-related killings throughout Hell’s Kitchen was apprehended just hours ago outside Saint Michael’s Cemetery. An NYPD spokesman says, “Tonight, New York has Sergeant Brett Mahoney of the 15th Precinct to thank”.’

“Gotta hand it to Brett. He seems to follow you wherever you go.” Foggy replies, sending a look at Matt from the backseat.

Matt ignores that jab and says, “I’m glad people like him are looking out for Hell’s Kitchen.”

Foggy chuckles. “Yeah.”

“And I’m glad someone was looking out for him.”

“Oooh… I wonder who.”

“Press are calling Castle ‘a cold-blooded psychopath’.” Karen said, scoffing. “The DA’s gonna have a hell of a time using his prosecution to turn herself into a hero. It’s all working out perfectly.”

Now it was Matt’s turn to laugh. “Wow, way to bring us down, Ms. Page.” He says, smirking. “I think we've had enough Punisher for one evening. We’ll worry about the rest tomorrow.”

“Amen to that.” Foggy agrees, and Karen sighs again (Only Matt noticed something underlining there).

“You okay?” Matt asks, hearing her shift in her seat.

“Yeah.” She breathes, just as his eyebrows shoot up, not buying it. “Okay, that wasn’t convincing, was it? Um, I don’t know, I just, uh days like today remind me how precious life can be, you know?”

Matt and Karen exchange loving glances and that’s when Foggy, who was grinning like an idiot, made up an excuse to leave.

“You know what? My apartment’s kind of far. I-I should get a cab.” He explains as he starts gathering his things.

“A cab?” Karen asked, confused. She swears she convinced him earlier it was okay for her to drive him. What changed?

“You know we don’t mind driving you.” Matt adds as his friend shakes his head.

“Nah, that’s okay. Cab’s fine.” Foggy continues.

“It’s raining.”

“A little rain never hurts anyone.” He smiles and clasps a hand on each of their shoulders. “Well, you two have fun, have a drink for me, maybe play a board game, and try to keep it PG with your daughter in there. Okay? Goodnight!”

He wiggles himself out of the car with his belongings, leaving the two of them staring in disbelief…

Before both turning beat red.

Karen buries her face in her hands. “Oh, Foggy…” She said, making them both chuckle. “Uh… should we… um…?

“...ignore… him?” Matt says slowly.

“Uh, y-yes? Maybe?” She starts hearing him laugh again. “I don’t know.”

“Uh, m-me neither. So…”

“You… Um…” She fiddles with her hands. “Actually…”

He tilts his head. “Something you want to tell me?”

She shakes her head. “Oh, I’ll tell you tomorrow. Promise.”

He smiles. “Okay.”

“I’ll walk you inside.”

The two of them get out of the car, Karen taking him by the hand and pulling him towards the door. The warm rain soaking them immediately, but neither of them minded. They walked the concrete path, touching the edge of the steps with their toes when Matt suddenly tugs them both to a stop. The atmosphere was so light and comforting; It made them feel like they were on cloud 9.

Matt’s fingers ghosted her arm, trailing seductively up to her shoulder as she quietly gasped at his touch. Finally he cupped her cheek, some of her golden locks getting entangled, trapping his fingers like a spiderweb. And with hope in both of their eyes, both of them leaned in for a (long overdue) blissful kiss. Short and sweet, but it was breathtaking, exhilarating. And when they broke apart, they let their foreheads rest against each other, smiling.

“Can I take you to dinner?” Matt asks as he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Yes.” She replies, happily.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

His smile grew, his chest feeling a thousand times lighter now. “Goodnight, Karen.”

She mimicked him at this very moment as well. “Goodnight, Matt.”

With a new pep in her step, she heads back to her car which was just the cue Matt was waiting for to head back inside. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he climbed the stairs and entered his home. Setting his things by the door, he starts heading in the direction of his room. If his daughter was still up then–

Oh, boy. He thought, only imagining what her reaction would be when he tell her the news.

Kai’s going to have a field day with this one.

But just as his hand was reaching for the door handle, his senses suddenly caught onto something. He jolts in his stance, spinning around with his fists up, ready to fight. He tunes in on a figure -a woman- in his kitchen, twirling with one of his knives. With that sweet, sweet voice of poison he remembers so very well, she says,

“Hello, Matthew.”

With his heart in his throat he croaks, “Elektra.”

Her sharp eyes stayed on him for a while before she stopped her movements to take a swig of the drink she stole from the fridge. “Mmm! German beer. Tastes like piss.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” He says, lowering his hands slightly, focusing completely on her.

“You’ve never been hard to find.”

He clenches his jaw. “That’s not what I asked.”

“At least your furniture’s improved.” She said in her attempt at small talk. She sets the bottle down and starts making her way over.

“Kinda liked my old futon.”

“I liked breaking it in.” She says, seductively. “Nice place. Too bad about the clothes, though.”

He holds his hand up, a sign she took for her to stop as she entered the living area. “Why are you here?”

She sighs. “Would you believe it if I said I missed you?”

Not missing a beat he says, “No.”

“Smart man. Columbia education really paid off.”

“No thanks to you.” He bites back.

She chuckles. “I’m in New York for a meeting. I thought I’d pop by.”

“Well, you’re not staying here, so…”

“Fine.” She shrugs. “My penthouse in midtown will just have to do, then. We spent some nights there.”

He mentally cusses, holding back an eye twitch. “Look, if you came here to walk down memory lane, I don’t really have the–”

“I’m sorry. I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that things happen for a reason, that you and I were not meant to be. But I know now. That wasn’t fate. It was a choice. My choice. And I’m sorry. I’m alone in the world, Matthew. Do you know what that feels like?”

Matt scoffs in disbelief. “No.”

She seemed disappointed. “Of course you do. You–”

“I really don’t.” He snaps, bitterly, honestly. “Not in a long time I haven’t.”

Elektra sighs. “Well, you must know what it’s like to clean up your father’s messes. A long time ago, before he died, my father did business with the Roxxon Corporation.”

Matt raises an eyebrow. “Roxxon?”

“Energy, cleaning supplies, macaroni and cheese. Child labor, slave trade. They have their fingers in everything. I believe it’s called diversification. And thanks to my father’s shitty investments, they hold most of his wealth.”

“Yeah, okay. I–”

“I have a meeting tomorrow with the board at the Yakatomi Building. And I need your help, Matthew.”

“How am I supposed to help you?” He asked, puzzled.

“I want you to use that expensive legal training of yours to help me get my money back–”

“See, I’m a defense lawyer.”

“I’ll pay you well.”

Matt laughs, shaking his head. “I’m not taking your money. And, even if I accepted, there’s not enough time.”

“For what?” Elektra asked, confused.

“Oh, just research. Accounts, shareholders, hierarchy of the–”

“You have fifteen hours.”

He blinks. “Fifteen hours, Elektra, are you insane?”

“Matthew.” She sighs his name. “You’re the only person I–”

She trails off like she suddenly listening for something, and Matt was puzzled on what until–

Nobody could miss the way he tenses and holds his hands up. “Elektra.” He starts warning, as he could hear her gripping the kitchen knife. “Wait– Don’t!!”

He manages to snag the knife midair just as the bedroom door slide opens, his quick action startling his poor kid. He winces as soon as the blade makes contact with his skin, and lets it go immediately.

“Shit!” He cusses, blood pooling from his open palm.

“Are you okay?!” Kaila gasps, shifting her weight onto her good leg as she tries to look at his injury.

“Matthew?” Elektra’s voice broke through making him stiff up again. “Who’s that?”

He hides his pain quickly, and uses his non-injured hand to push his kid behind him. “You need to leave.” He said, stern and underlining cold.

Kai casts a glance at him. “Dad?” She whispers, scared.

Elektra looks between the two, puzzled. “Dad?” She asked, hurt in her face as she looked at her ex. “You have a daughter?”

“Dad, who’s is–”

“You need to leave. Now.” Matt repeats, tougher.

“Since when did you have a kid?” Elektra asked, pain in her voice as steps closer. “And with whom?”

Matt pulls his daughter completely behind, a subtle sign to tell her to stay back. “Does that even matter?” He asked, not even letting her answer. “You have no right to ask me that. Leave.”

“Matthew–”

“Leave.”

If anyone else was in her place they would have trembled under his tone of voice alone; But even Elektra, who claims she knows the real him, seemed taken back. Not even saying another word, she left out the front door like she was a guest and not someone who trespassed (which seemed to piss Matt off more than it should have). Matt almost didn’t want to relax, he knows she’ll come back. She always does. She always seems to–

Kaila nearly fell to the ground if he hadn’t been standing there. Her name passed by his lips quickly as he caught her, leaning her against him.

“Why are you walking on your own? Where’s your crutch?” He asks, getting them both settled down on the bed.

“I kind of leaped out of bed ‘cause of concern.” She replies, before grabbing a gentle hold onto his wrist. “Your hand.”

“It’s okay. I don’t think I need stitches.”

She stares at his palm, carefully feeling around the cut to confirm his words before asking, “Who is she?”

He frowns, slightly ashamed. “She uh, is an old… flame of mine. Second year. My uh… party boy era.”

“Party boy era?” She watches him nod. “You told me some stories. But you never mention a girlfriend.”

“She’s… not my proudest accomplishment.”

Kaila frowns, sadly. “Was she before my mother?”

“Before Mary, yeah.”

“So what happened with… her?”

He sighs. “After a while, she started doing stuff that… I didn’t like. The last thing she did was pretty awful. When I comforted her about it, she yelled at me and then disappeared. That’s the last time I ever saw her.”

“Damn.” Kaila muttered. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Well…” She starts leaning forward to grab the first aid kit under the bed. “You might have dodged a bullet there, dad.” She pulls out some disinfectant wipes and a gauze. “She seems… violent.”

Matt chuckles dryly. “Very.” His expression fades back into worriedness. “You’re not going to ask more questions?”

“I’ve heard enough. You told me enough.” She starts looking around for her phone. “Besides–” She snags it off the end of the nightstand. “If there’s more to what you need to tell me you will. But if it doesn’t affect our lives, then I’m not worried about it.”

She smiles up at him, and he couldn’t help but copy her.

“I really lucked out with you as my daughter, Kai.” Matt said, making her snort.

“Well, that’s good, ‘cause you’re stuck with me. Here–” She hands him her phone that had the flashlight on. “Hold this up for me.”

“Can do.” He lets her do her thing, taking this small moment and cherishing it despite the circumstances leading up to it. “Thank you, Dr. Kaila.”

She smirks. “Hey, that’s Dr. Murdock for you, sir.” Kaila replies, cheeky just finishing up. “‘Least it was your non-dominant hand.”

“And I’m grateful for that.” He says, handing the device to her. Just as he does, the teenager’s phone buzzes and he feels her gaze immediately lock with it, disappointment registering on her face. Matt latches onto this quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s… nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like it. You seem… upset.” He uses his non-injured hand to tilt her head towards him. “What’s wrong?”

She frowns. “It just… I met someone at work–”

“You met someone?”

“A friend. His name is Jayden–”

“His name?”

She rolls her brown eyes. “Dad, stop.”

“Sorry.” He apologizes. “Continue.”

“Anyway, we started talking and texting one another, and we even made plans to hang out, however I got… you know… kidnapped.” Her frown deepens as she crosses her arms. “He texted me if I was okay, I said I was, and then… that’s it. He hasn’t responded to any of my texts. It’s… weird.” A sigh. “Do you think I did something wrong?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Of course not.”

“Then how come he’s ignoring me?”

“Well… maybe he doesn’t know how to respond after what happened to you. Maybe it just feels awkward for him. It’s not everyday that someone’s friend gets kidnapped.”

Kaila nods slowly, processing his words. “True.”

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

“True.”

“Just give him some time. If he doesn’t respond, maybe try giving him a call. Okay?”

She sighs. “Okay. You’re right.”

“Good.” He says, as a smile starts to grow. “Well, on the bright side–” He nudges her a bit. “I’ve got good news.”

“What?”

“Your old man might have… put a move on a certain blonde tonight.” A gasp. “And I might have asked her to dinner tomorrow.” Another gasp. “And she might have said yes.”

She squeals. “Dad, that’s awesome!” She shouts, making him laugh. “Awe. Do you have something to wear? Or do we need to go shopping? Or–”

“Kai–”

“We could go to that new tailor store up the road. Or we could go into town square for the day.”

“Kai–”

“What about places to eat? Do you have any idea where you’re going to take her?”

“Kai–” He laughs again at her enthusiasm and grabs her by the forearm to stop her. “Relax. You’re way more excited about this than I am.”

“Sorry.” She said, blushing. “You haven’t been on a date in a long time. One that you actually seem happy for.”

“Well, I…” Now it was his turn to get red. “I like Karen. She makes me feel… good. Happy. Warm.”

“Awe.” Kaila threw her arms around his neck. “I’m glad you feel that way. Although… I can’t believe Karen of all people is trying to take my number one spot with you.”

Another laugh. “Oh… baby girl–” He kisses her temple. “You'll always be my number one.”

And that was the absolute truth.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Morning.” Kaila said, as she and her father entered the office the very next day.

Foggy smiles, eyes still glued to the newspaper he was currently reading. “Murdocks.”

“We, uh, have anything for breakfast?” Matt asked as he started pouring himself a glass of water from their filter.

Foggy raises an eyebrow. “You hungry or hungover?”

A brief pause. “Both.”

Kaila gives him a look as she sits down. “Since when did you have a drink last night?” She asked, and got a shrug in return.

Foggy chuckles. “All right, you need some potassium, some electrolytes, and a jolt of caffeine. I’ll give you, uh…” He looks around before snapping his fingers at something. “-The last piece of Mrs. DiNizio’s peach cobbler, which is… the last piece of anything in this office.”

“I guess our finances haven’t improved since last week.” Matt said, frowning.

“Yeah, well, clients don’t respond well to a ‘closed’ sign.”

Kaila looks between the two, concerned. “Should… I be worried?”

Her father sighs and shakes his head. “No, baby girl, don’t… it’s my fault. I’m sorry, Foggy.”

“Don't be.” Foggy replies, taking a seat next to his niece, still reading. “You got Punisher off the street. I’m hoping Reyes will get her jackboot off our neck and this office can go back to normal.”

“Can you though?” Kai said, getting their attention. “I mean with everything we’ve gotten entangled with… can we be normal again?”

Before the boys could process her words, Nelson and Murdock’s last employee finally arrived.

“Matt–” Karen enters the room, startling herself as she tries to balance a tray full of beverages. “Uh, good morning.”

“Hey, Karen.” Matt said, a little smile ghosting his face.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Uh, not so much. You?”

“Me?” She slurred, closing the door with her elbow. “Yeah, sure. Uh, I-I mean–”

“Is that coffee I can smell?” He said, feeling his heart race.

“Hmm?”

“Coffee.”

“Uh, yeah, um… Yeah, arabica for all.” She chuckles and starts handing the cups over. “For everyone.” She hands over the last one for Kai. “Uh, Chai for you.”

The teenager’s eyes light up with happiness. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Yeah, Thanks. You’re a goddess.” Matt said, still grinning.

“Okay, you two.” Foggy cuts in, still smiling like a goof. “Let’s talk business. Potential clients. Real ones. With bank in the bank.”

“Uh, actually, yeah, can we, uh, talk about these first?” Karen asked, holding up some paper. The boys follow her as she stands behind her own desk. “The, uh, press is still painting Castle like he’s nothing more than some deranged lunatic.”

“Well, it’s not like our boy was out collecting for the Red Cross.” Foggy points out, even after knowing what he discovered last night.

“I know. I know, but–”

“You think there’s more to the story.” Matt finishes, already knowing this was going to be true (everyone did).

“Exactly. I mean, five different papers and not a word about the bullet he took to the brain, or his military record, or his family.” She continues, running a hand through her locks. “So we know what he said last to you about his daughter was true. W-We found this photograph. It’s of him and his wife and kids at the carousel–”

“We?” The Blind man asked, confused. “You mean…” He points between his friends. “The two of you?” He didn’t miss the way their heartbeats flickered. “You guys found it where, exactly?”

“W-We… sort of broke into his house last night.”

“Broke in? Last night you–” He trails off at a realization, and with a steady expression he turns in his daughter’s direction who was nervously sipping her drink.

She eventually just shrugs. “Murdock curse…?”

“I… shouldn’t even be surprised at this point.” Matt said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, I get what you were trying to do, but that still was dangerous and illegal.”

“I know, I know. Sorry.” Karen said, apologetically.

“For the record, I didn’t know that’s what we were going to do. I just thought we were going to look at the house from afar.” Foggy said, holding his hands up. “But, I will still take some of the blame… but your daughter knows how to pick locks.”

Matt looks her way again. “You know how to do what?”

“Why are you throwing me into this?” Kaila asked, dumbfounded. “Shouldn’t we be listening to Karen? I mean, I know Frank is a lunatic, but he threw one of his missions away to save me. Shouldn’t Nelson and Murdock at least try to see if they can help him?”

“No.” Foggy shakes his head. “No. I mean, yeah he saved you, but come on, we successfully dodged a metaphorical bullet and quite a few literal ones. We need to be done with the crazy, guys. We need normal.”

And with that said he stormed into his own office.

“I’m sorry.” Karen said, bowing her head. “I’m really sorry if I– I pushed it too far.”

“It’s okay.” Matt said, with a light laugh. “Just Uh, I don’t think you’re wrong about him, I feel the same way too, but it’s really simple, Karen. Just I don’t want you to get hurt. Not like I have…”

She lets those words sink in before deciding to test the waters somewhere else. “So, uh... Last night.”

“Last night?” He pinches his brows together, all tongue and cheek. “I don’t– What happened last night? At Josie’s? With Foggy?”

She giggles. “You…”

“Did something happen?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything else? I don’t–”

“Yeah?”

Matt laughs quietly, softly. “Yeah, it was great. And I like to think I can do better, if we’re still on for dinner.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s a date.”

“Holy shit!” Foggy said, coming back into the room. “That was the bank.”

Karen frowns with dread. “Oh, no.”

“No, it’s all good.” Foggy continues, still stunned by the news. “There was a deposit. A big one.”

“What?”

Kaila’s eyes widened with realization before looking at her Father. “Dad–”

“Uh, actually, do me a favor, don’t spend any of it.” Matt blurts out nervously.

“Dad–”

Foggy gives him a strange look. “Why not?” He asked, concernedly.

“I-I was hit up by a potential client yesterday, so, I just–” Matt tried explaining but his friend was now nervously saying things.

“Is it dirty money? Are we doing that again?”

“No! No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just, um– I’m not sure it’s gonna work out, let me… Let me just–”

“Dad!!” Kaila shouts, getting him to stop. “Enough lying! Just tell them the truth. You promised no more secrets.”

With those words, she trapped her Dad like a deer in a headlight. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, puzzled and on the border of hurt.

“What secret?” Karen asked, with a tilt of her head.

“Okay, who’s this client, Matt?” Foggy asked, bracing himself for the answer.

Matt lets out a sigh knowing he’s been pinned down. And with a small shift in his stance, hands on his hips he says, “It’s… Elektra.” And he didn’t need sight to know that his college roommate’s eyes were slowly bugging out of his head.

“Wait…” Foggy mumbles, hands waving around, grasping something imaginary. “Elektra?” He tests out the name that burns on his tongue. “Psychopath Elektra? Your old girlfriend from college?”

Karen immediately copies his expression. “Old girlfriend?” She asked, looking between the two.

“Yeah!” Foggy boasts, arms flinging out in a dramatic way. “I-I mean she was beautiful, b-but fucking off the walls crazy!” He stares at Matt in disbelief. “You mean she showed up back in your life?”

Matt nods. “S-She… was at my door when I came home last night.”

Karen crosses her arms, intrigued. “W-What did she want?”

“Uh, basically, long story short, she wants to get her father’s wealth back from this company called Roxxon. She wanted me to be her lawyer. I told her no, but apparently she didn’t listen.”

“What do we do?” Foggy asked, while rubbing his tired face.

“I’m going to have to talk to her, I mean we’re defense lawyers. What can we do?”

“And you’re talking to her as… Matt Murdock? Or the other guy?”

Matt frowns. “Not sure yet. I’ll be back.” He says, making his way where he left his walking stick. His gaze soon leads to Karen. “I’ll make sure to be back for tonight.”

Foggy raises an eyebrow between the two. “What’s tonight?” He asked, confused by this potential memo he missed.

“They’re going on a date.” Kaila sang, grinning ear to ear while making the two adults blushed.

“What?!” Her Uncle said, baffled. “Are you serious?” He gets a quick nod of confirmation from his niece before throwing his arms in the air. “Finally!”

Matt listens to his daughter’s giggle before touching her shoulder, grabbing her attention. “I’ll be back.”

Kaila nods as her expression fades. “Be careful.”

“I will, but–” He taps the top of her phone, knowing exactly what she was doing on it. “Worry about meeting your friend.”

Her eyes widened. “How did you know I was texting–” But he leaves without another word, and she’s left staring at her device.

Once the door closes, Foggy reverts back to a curious fellow. “Your friend?”

“Uh–” Kaila meets his eyes for a split second before looking away. “I made a friend at work, and I’m… having some trouble with him.”

“Him?” He asked in the same tone of fashion her father had the night before.

She almost visibly eyerolls. “Okay, I don’t need the protective lecture again. He’s just a friend that happens to be a boy. Alright?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. Habit, you know?”

Suddenly the office phone rings and Foggy excuses himself to go answer it just as Karen takes a seat next to the teenager.

“Need some advice?” She asked, softly.

Kaila shrugs and sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well… what’s this boy like? Is he nice? How did you meet?”

“I… I met him before the summer, right around the time you guys were about to bring Fisk down. I met him, Jayden, at that coffee shop I like to go to sometimes. We talked, just a short little conversation as we waited for our drinks, then that was it.” Kaila explains slowly, shifting in her seat. “Then, about a month into my job, he started working there. Maybe it was just a weird coincidence, but I took it as a sign that maybe the universe was finally giving me a friend.”

Karen tilts her head again. “Finally?”

The young Murdock shrugged. “I never really had friends growing up. Everyone was also so cliquey. It was strange. I was basically the girl you invited to a party because you felt bad.”

The blonde frowns. “Kai…”

“It’s fine, really. I’m not bothered by it as much as before. I mean, I did have one friend who I considered my best friend in the sixth grade, I mean we did everything together.” She slouches in her chair. “But the day she and her parents met my father, she never spoke to me again. Her parents were the helicopter ones, strict about everything. And… they obviously didn’t like blind people. Rich jackasses.”

“Kai, that’s horrible.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I like Jayden because we have a lot in common. Same music taste, we love scary movies, love books, I could go on. But ever since the kidnapping, he texted me if I was okay, I replied back and that was it. Dead silence.” She continues. “I want to go talk to him, but I don’t know where he lives, and I can’t exactly go back to my job because I’m on temporary leave, and to quote my Boss, he said, ‘If I see you set foot in this store instead of being home healing I’ll fire you’. And I kind of like my job, so… yeah.”

“Huh.” Karen said, thinking. “Have you talked it over with your dad?”

“He suggested I should give him a little bit before calling, but I don’t know. Should I even wait?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” And just before more could be said, a certain DA’s right hand came strolling in. Karen stands up, surprised. “Mr. Tower? I, uh, wish you’d called. I’d have something set up.”

“Are they in?” He asked, quickly. And right on cue, Foggy peaks from his office door.

“Just the Nelson half.” He replies, puzzled as well.

“We need to talk. In private.” Tower replies, ignoring the many jabs the people in the room were giving him as he entered Foggy’s office.

“Asshole.” Kaila said, once the door was closed.

Karen chuckles. “Can be…”

“Why don’t you do what you have to?” The Murdock gestures towards the exit. “I know that detective brain of yours wants to work on the Castle case.”

The blonde looks surprised again. “You sure?”

“Of course. There’s not much I’ll be able to do since I don’t know what you’re looking for. Besides–” She holds her phone up. “Maybe I should try.”

Karen smiles and grabs her purse. “Good luck.”

“You too.” Kaila waits till she leaves before scrolling to his contact and hitting the phone icon; She lifts it to her ear, waiting to see if it’ll stop ringing.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hours later after their separate adventures, both Karen and Matt made it on time for their date. The blonde was nervously flipping through the menu as the lawyer stayed silent, just listening.

“D-Do you drink wine?” Karen nervously stutters. “I should know that.”

“I… don’t drink anything they don’t serve at Josie’s.” Was Matt’s answer, which got her to laugh.

“Yeah, well, I don’t see swill on the menu.”

Their eyes locked for a moment before getting preoccupied again. Eventually they both tried to speak at the same time. “So how was–/So what did–” A laugh. “I’m sorry–/I was just gonna–”

Karen smiles, setting the menu down. “Uh, you go ahead. Go, go first.”

Matt copies her. “How was your day?”

“Fine. Uh, yeah, just a regular day at the office.”

“Well, it’s a nice change of pace, right? Not being shot at?” He nervously laughs. “That’s gotta feel good.”

She hums, and takes a sip of water. “Yeah.” She sets the glass down, folding her hands on top of one another. “You, uh… how’s the, uh, new… you know. Elektra.”

Matt inhales deeply, clearly still frustrated over the mess. “Honestly, I didn’t get the chance to talk to her. I kind of…” A slight shrugged. “Eavesdropped on the meeting.”

“Is she… in trouble you think?” Karen asked, genuinely curious.

He sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe. But I don’t want to get involved. Like I told Kai last night, she left many years ago, I’ve forgotten about her, and that’s all I want to do.”

Karen looks at him worriedly, finally seeing the hurt he’s been through appearing on his face. “I’m sorry. It… sucks when your past comes back to bite you. I know I’ve… I’ve had my fair share of that.”

Matt’s heart clenched, frowning sadly. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He whispers, and there was a brief pause before they both recollected themselves. “Well, uh… that covers work.”

She changes her expression to a joyful one like earlier. “Uh, well, it's a start. Um–” She pointed to a corner of the restaurant where the bathroom was. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Order something fantastic.”

“Sure thing.” He says, hearing her leave. Once she does he lets out a sigh, embarrassed how this was going. He thought maybe his struggles would be helped when the waiter suddenly appeared by his side. “Look. If I had to seem like I knew everything there is to know about wines in the next 60 seconds, what would I… what would I order?”

“Matthew Murdock?” The waiter said, sounding all buddy-buddy.

Matt tilts his head in confusion. “Yeah.”

He holds out a phone. “You have a call.”

“Oh.” Matt takes it. “Thanks.” He lifts it to his ear. “This is Murdock.”

‘Sorry to bother you while you're out, but you have a few moments before she returns, right?’

Matt mentally curses as soon as he hears her voice. He clenches the phone, and hiss, “What do you want from me?”

‘You should ask yourself the same question. That rooftop act was cute.’

“Yeah, nothing compared to your damsel-in-distress one.” He grits his teeth as she laughs at his reply.

‘Oh, you’re right. I didn’t actually need you. I told you, maybe I just missed you. But don’t worry, you can keep the money.’

Matt chuckles sarcastically. “Aw.. Go to fucking hell.”

‘If you really want to be done, consider this me firing you.’

And then he was met with the dial tone, supposedly ending this ‘nightmare’ (or maybe it was just starting it).

“Hey.” Karen’s sweet voice broke through, pulling him away from the memories of his past.

He flashes her a reassuring smile. “Hey.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah… th-they ran out of wine.”

She chuckles at what she thought was a joke. “No.” She frowns when she sees he wasn’t laughing back. “Wait, seriously? Matt–”

“I-I don’t I don’t like this place, you know?”

“Is it the place? Or is it–”

“It’s definitely not you.” He quickly says, truthfully.

“You’re sure?” She said, heart skipping a beat.

“Yeah.” He hears his own heart flutter, getting back into the groove. “I’m positive.”

She bites her lip seductively before taking him by the hand. “Come on. I know where we can go.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Thank you.” Karen said to their new waiter at their new date spot.

“Wow, this smells amazing.” Matt replies, the curry and other spices hitting his nose blissfully. “What is it?”

“Um…” She laughs at herself, not knowing either. “Who cares? They have wine.”

Matt finds himself grinning ear to ear. “Right. That’s… You know, I’ve always felt more comfortable with the cheap stuff. You know?”

“Yeah? Well, here, I’ll drink to that.” She holds her glass up waiting for Matt to do the same before clicking.

“Cheap stuff.”

She grins too. “Cheap stuff.” She sets her glass down after a sip, grabbing her fork to dig in. “You know, I never even had Indian food until a few months ago.”

“How is that possible?” Matt asked, surprised.

“Well, my hometown in Vermont had about 400 people, so the most ethnic food it offered was French fries.”

“So that’s why you, uh, came to New York? For the food?”

She shakes her head at his cheekiness. “Uh, no. Although, if I knew places like this existed, I’d have left Vermont ages ago.”

“You see, that’s why I love this city.” He says, hearing her hum to continue. “I’ve lived here my whole life, and the place never stops unfolding new secrets.”

She nods in understanding. “Yeah, you know despite the crime, and the darkness, every once in a while, New York makes me feel…

“Like, safe?”

“Yes, is that weird?”

He shrugs. “Well–

“Huh.”

“I get it.”

Another flutter to her heart as she leans in closer. “I wish you could see this place.”

Matt smiles. “I can, if you describe it to me.”

She hums again, setting her fork down and using her hands to speak. “S-So, anyways, my favorite part… is the ceiling. It’s literally dripping with thousands of lights. They’re shaped like chili peppers–” She holds her hand up before he could protest. “Which sounds really tacky, I know, but it’s um, it’s not. Just… It’s magic.”

“Magic?”

“Yeah.” They lock eyes again. “Magic.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

After dinner, the two of them took a lovely stroll hand and hand. It seems like this wonderful night would last forever, until they arrived just outside the Page residence.

Karen looks torn as she pulls them both to a stop. “This is me.” She said, before laughing nervously.

“Are you sure you don’t… live two more blocks?” Matt asked, feeling the same way. “Maybe three?”

“I wish.” She shifts her towards him. “We could sit.”

“Yeah.” He guides them down on the steps, and he pulls his shades off, taking this moment in. He chuckles, scooting closer. “All right, I’m gonna kiss ya.”

And she lets him.

They both started off sweetly before turning it up a notch, hands gripping onto each other’s clothing like it was a life line. Maybe in some way… it was.

“You can come up… if you like?” Karen asked in between their kisses.

Matt hums against her lips, smiling. “I’d love to.”

And he kisses her again.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Okay, so how many voicemails did you leave?” Foggy asked his Niece as they walked from the office back to her home. He wasn’t surprised when Karen left earlier in the day to do some research, but he was taken back by how his Niece seemed very repetitive with her moves today.

Looking quite embarrassed, and not even looking at him she said, “...Eight.”

“Eight?” He replies, shocked. “Jesus, Kai. I don’t think I’ve seen you stress something over like this before.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He frowns at how disappointed she sounded. “Kaila–”

“It’s okay, Foggy. I’ll be alright.” She says, as she heads up to her apartment entrance, keys in hand.

“Hey.” He says, getting her to finally turn around to look at him. “Try not to stress over it. I’m sure he’ll come around. And if he doesn’t…” He shrugs. “Fuck him. You’re too good for him anyway.”

Kaila cracks a smile. “Thank you, Uncle Foggy. Goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

She unlocks the front door and heads inside, carefully guiding herself to ride the elevator. She sighs after hitting her floor number, a wave of exhaustion hitting her hard.

He’s right. I shouldn’t be stressing over this. And she shouldn’t, but it still hurts to admit that.

I finally found someone that I consider a real friend and he ghosts me. Lucky me…

The elevator dings and opens, and she slowly moves across the hallway to the very end. She fishes around her key ring for the right one–

“Hey, Coffee girl.” A voice erupts behind her, making her nearly jump out of her shoes.

Head whipping around quickly, she blinks upon confusion. “...Jayden?”

The dark haired boy looks nervous, and out of place, but still manages to give her a wave. “Hi.”

“W-What…” She shakes her head, recollecting herself. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I… got your voicemails.” He holds up his phone before putting it back away. “Can we uh… can we talk?”

“Talk…?”

“Yeah. Can we?”

She doesn’t know if this was a dream or not, but if it isn’t, something was telling her to cease this opportunity or else. Finally relaxing her tense body, she replies,

“Sure.”

-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 @winterschildren17 @wolfgirl-205 @hallecarey1 @mademoiselle-marquise-blog

@graciegoeskrazy @magsmilk

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aza-writes · 1 year

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

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starsinmylatte · 1 year

Note

Maybe Silco with a motherly Fem!Reader who adores Jinx? Something with breeding & pregnancy? Domestic bliss please?

Soft

Oooh, I do love some good domestic bliss... and I've always loved the idea of Silco's lover being a motherly figure for Jinx. Tbh, it would've solved so many problems in the show....

Rating: Explicit. 18+ ONLY, minors DNI

Pairing: Silco x Afab!reader.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Breeding kink, sliiiiight degradation, Silco fantasizes about pregnant reader, cockwarming, y'all already know what's up

Join my taglist here!

(By clicking read more, you agree that you are 18+. Minors DNI)

You were by far the softest thing in Silco’s life. The Eye of Zaun -the most feared kingpin in all of the Undercity- was not a man who usually enjoyed life's softer, sweeter things, but you were the one exception.

He could still vividly remember the day you showed up at his door, demanding to see Powder. Silco had wanted nothing more than to laugh. It was ridiculous, the way you showed up alone and completely unarmed to The Last Drop and demanded things from him of all people. Under any normal circumstance, you would’ve never gotten past his bouncers at the door, but he could barely get Jinx to eat or respond to him. Her door was locked, and the lock was reinforced from the inside…. he was worried about his new daughter, and you seemed to know her. So, against his better judgment, Silco took one look at the motherly concern you seemed to show for Jinx and brought you to her door.

He watched carefully as you knelt in front of the door and took a deep, calming breath. “Darling, I know it’s been so hard, and you’ve been so brave… could you please come out and eat something? For me?” The door flew open in a blinding flash of unkempt, neon blue hair, and Jinx was in your arms. The small girl was sobbing and clutching you so tightly, almost like she was afraid you’d disappear at any second. She was trying to say something, but her sobs distorted her words to the point they were unrecognizable.

You pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, picking her up as she buried her face into the crook of your neck. Silco watched in shock as you stood and turned to face him calmly. “What are your thoughts on soup?.”

In the span of five minutes, you had nearly kicked his door in to see Jinx, gotten her to come out of her room for the first time in a few days, and now you were asking him about…. soup??

“Excuse me?” He managed to say, a look of pure bewilderment still plastered on his usually smug face.

“She likes it, so I’m going to make some. You don’t look like you’ve eaten recently either, so I want to know if I need to make enough for three.” Your tone was soft but completely matter-of-fact as you stroked the young girl’s hair.

Silco nodded slowly. “Soup would be…. fine.”

Without another word, you simply turned on your heel and headed for the kitchen, murmuring words of comfort to the child in your arms.

_______

You were the brutally soft woman who had invaded Silco’s life and turned it upside down in the best way possible…. Which is how the Kingpin found himself in his current position: buried deep inside you, biting your shoulder as the thick, swollen head of his cock kissed your cervix.

The pain-tinged pleasure was almost blinding, but fuck, it was exactly what you wanted. It was enough to have you desperately moaning his name and your back arching. The Eye of Zaun kissed the column of your neck hungrily, trailing his lips all the way up to your ear. Silco’s warm breath caressed the shell of your ear as he nipped at the delicate skin before murmuring. “You’re sure about this, my lovely?”

“Silco, please.” You whined, voice barely audible over the sound of him fucking you. “W-we talked about this. I want a baby…. I want you to get me pregnant.”

Silco growled in response, reaching up to palm the swell of your soft, generously curved breasts. He had you pressed back across the smooth wood of his desk, all of his papers and work carelessly thrown to the side as he took you roughly, with an almost singular purpose. The gold-trimmed bottom hem of the dress you favored had been roughly shoved up around the curves of your hips to allow him more room between your thighs. He leaned over to kiss you hungrily.

“Such a dirty girl,” he purred, sliding one of his fingers into your mouth for you to suck on. Your tongue laved around it, eyelids fluttering shut in bliss as he pressed it in further.

Silco hissed at the sight, trailing his other hand up to caress the soft skin of your lower abdomen. He pressed down with the flat of his palm, making you cry out at the sudden pressure before following it with another gentle massage. “Wanting me to fuck you raw like this…. Such a pretty thing, and you want to carry my child.”

The thought of you pregnant was nearly enough to make him cum instantly. Your body would change… swell with the life he put inside you. Everyone would know it… Everyone would see his claim on you. Yes, Jinx would be getting a sibling, and Silco would be glad about that alone, but his true desires were much more selfish.

You whimpered as his clever fingers found their next target: one of your overly-sensitive nipples. Silco bit back a moan of his own, imagining your breasts swollen and heavy with milk. “Let me hear it again, lovely. Say my name.”

A particularly delicious thrust of his hips punctuated each word, and Silco’s name fell from your kiss-swollen lips. Your orgasm burned through your body as you fell apart beneath him, whimpering and begging him to finish, to give you what you craved most.

Silco’s beautiful green eye rolled back in bliss as his fingers forcefully dug into your hips, hard enough to leave bruises as he chased his own climax. His hips snapped into yours lewdly, and with one last strangled groan, the Eye of Zaun joined you in pure euphoria. The movement of his hips slowed, and you felt his warm seed fill you completely.

Your head dropped back against the desk with a soft thunk, your energy completely and utterly spent. Silco caressed your temple, raising one of your hands to his lips to kiss it gently.

“Beautiful…” he murmured, letting his gaze wash over you unashamedly and making no move to leave your warmth. You shifted your hips slightly, drawing a short, sharp hiss from your lover as you sighed contentedly, completely relaxed beneath him.

Silco dipped down to press more reverent kisses against your skin, his smooth, deep voice intensely comforting. “We are going to stay just like this for a few more minutes. It wouldn’t do for any of our hard work to go to waste.”

____________

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @eriseffigy @ashotofspotchka @thebeardedmoon @dont-mess-with-my-fandom @redflamesbaku @My-awakened-ghost @agatemermaid @shadow-pancake9 @zaunsin @warpedbands @kemeso25 @ironandglass @nyx2021 @amyroswell @tinybookworm16 @dendrophileunsated @cassandrablacker @aikoiya @lemmielem

(If you are on my tag list and your name is crossed out, then the info I have for you either needs updating, or Tumblr is being strange)

#lyria responds #silco #silco arcane #silco fanfiction #silco fanfic #arcane #arcane fanfic #silco x reader #silco x you #silco league of legends #silco smut #silco imagine #silco simp

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mando-fando · 24 days

Text

The Other Man Pt. 2

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Wife!Reader

Words: 2.8k

Interdimensional travel is a tricky thing. Miguel discovered that when he was working the bugs out in his gadgets and researching everything he could about alternate universes.

The first anomaly appeared in Peter B Parker’s universe. It was long before the Spider Society existed. Just a 50’s style, cartoon Vulture that popped up in the middle of Peter B’s NYC. Miguel followed the Vulture and found himself with some assistance in returning the flapping bird to where he belonged.

Peter and Miguel hit it off right away. Soon, Peter B had his own watch and access to Lyla’s vast database. Miguel and Peter still didn’t know the extent of the damage that Kingpin’s collider had done to the multiverse; they were simply playing it by ear.

He stumbled across you almost accidentally. In your universe, Peter Parker was still a kid, a few years out from getting bitten by his spider. For the time being, your universe was relatively normal. So, Miguel didn’t really have a reason to watch you, your husband, and your daughter.

Overnight, it seemed, your lives were always playing in the background on his monitor. He watched you and became obsessed with the normalcy of it all. He took solace in knowing that there was a universe out there where a different Miguel woke up every day and did everything right.

Your universe became essentially a control group for Miguel. He began developing algorithms to predict when the next anomaly would show up, using your universe to feed the algorithm data.

He would have the algorithm predict what you’d make for dinner on a random day, what your husband would do at Alchemax, and what questions your daughter would ask in class.

After a few months, it was spot on.

He knew your family’s routine like the back of his hand, but he could never look back on your past. He could only watch what was happening in the present, and use the algorithm that he and Lyla developed to predict your future. Miguel only had educated guesses about where you and your husband met, how long you’d been together, and the idiosyncrasies of your family life.

One day, as he was watching you cook breakfast for your daughter, the computer alerted him to an unusual event that was set to follow the next day: your husband’s death. A panic went through Miguel for you and your daughter. Your life was perfect, there was no way that something so catastrophic could happen to you. He tweaked the model, assuring himself that there was a problem with the coding.

Time and time again, your husband’s death was predicted. He looked over at you and Gabriella on his monitor, and his heart sank. You two were going to undergo such a tragedy, and there was nothing he could do.

An irrational thought crossed Miguel’s mind. He studied your husband’s likeness, his clothes, his mannerisms for months. He could…could he?

Should he?

The next day, he donned a white, collared sweatshirt and some slacks, the same thing your husband put on before heading to work. Miguel watched all three monitors like a hawk: you, your husband, and your daughter’s respective daily routines.

Night fell, and he watched your husband divert from his usual commute home to head to a panaderia in a sketchy part of town. He was getting some pan dulce for his daughter’s breakfast after hearing that she aced another spelling test.

It happened in an instant. A woman screamed, your husband’s sense of justice kicked in. Moments later, he lay in a pool of his own blood. A tie had been severed.

Miguel portaled in, almost without a second thought. He methodically emptied your husband’s pockets and donned his wedding band. A few hours later, Miguel walked in your front door as if nothing had happened. You jumped into his arms, and he felt himself fall for you in a heartbeat.

Guilt had wracked his brain every day since. He knew you were suspicious. He’d seen you watching him out of the corner of your eye. He saw the way you narrowed your eyes at him.

You started becoming cold towards him. You were less affectionate, less interested in his touch or kind words. Even if you couldn’t put your finger on it, you knew there was something amiss.

You were smart. You claimed that science wasn’t your strong suit, but Miguel saw you catch on to complicated subjects quickly when you helped Gabi with her homework or asked him about his day at work. A part of him thought that you might understand if he explained that he was from another dimension.

Today, you were being particularly cold towards him. You’d taken Gabi to your parents’ house for a weekend camping trip, and you were in the kitchen. It almost seemed like you were trying to find something to do so Miguel wouldn’t bother you.

The emotions he felt about the whole situation were so complex; he didn’t know how you’d react, and he couldn’t blame you. He’d stolen your husband’s life, essentially. Would you care that he only did it to save you and your daughter from devastation? Would you be able to love him the way he loved you?

Miguel walked into the kitchen and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. You wrenched your body away from his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

Miguel took a step back and put his hands up defensively. “Amor, I want to talk to you about something.”

You whipped around with an irate expression. “Do you finally have an explanation for how insane you’ve been acting?”

“I… I do, actually.” Miguel watched you lean your back against the counter and cross your arms. “It’s going to sound outlandish.”

“You could tell me that you’ve been abducted by fucking aliens, and I’d believe you. I’m sick of not knowing what’s going on with you!” You raised your voice at him.

“Okay. Before I begin, I want you to know that I didn’t do anything with malicious intent. The complete opposite, actually.” He tried to gauge your reaction and carried on. “I’m not the Miguel

O’Hara you married, but I think a part of you knows that already…”

You eyed him suspiciously, but kept silent.

“I’m from a different dimension. I was born in a city called Nueva York. I was a geneticist, just like your husband. But, when I was in my late 20s, I had an accident at Alchemax which changed the nature of my DNA. In my dimension, I’m a hero named Spiderman.”

You were surprisingly calm. You looked at him with a skeptical expression, but you wanted to hear more. You needed an explanation, any explanation, of what the hell was going on. You were pregnant, and that was all the proof you needed that you’d been sharing your bed with someone else.

“Why are you called ‘Spiderman?’” You asked.

Miguel continued to search your expression for fear or incredulousness. “The genetic sequence that my DNA was spliced with was half spider.”

A disgusted look flashed across your face.

“In my universe, there were quantum theorists and physicists who were on the verge of interdimensional travel. I took the research that they did and combined it with my own knowledge of biomechanics and created this,” Miguel pulled up his sleeve and showed you the bulky contraption on his wrist.

“As far as I know, I’m the first person to ever make an autonomous jump to another dimension. Once I had been to a few different universes, I started to research and document the differences. That’s when I stumbled across your family.

“I enjoyed knowing there was a version of myself out there that was happy. My life in my dimension was pretty miserable sometimes, but things were a little easier to swallow knowing that I was capable of humanity somewhere in the multiverse. I wanted your family to have the perfect life that you deserve.” He paused and looked away for a moment.

“There was a prediction from my model that your husband was going to die.”

Your eyebrows shot up in concern. “What?”

Miguel sighed, knowing how badly you were going to take the news. “He was going to get pan dulce across town after work. A woman was getting mugged, and he intervened. It cost him his life…”

You felt your heart break in your chest as you gasped. Suddenly, your legs collapsed from beneath you. Miguel caught you before you hit the floor.

Your husband. Your darling, lovely perfect husband was gone, and some monster had taken his place.

You couldn’t see past the tears that flooded your vision, and you couldn’t help yourself from pressing your face in the chest of the man who looked just like him.

“I know…” Miguel caressed your hair. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Your love story had come to an end. Every shared glance, every evening doting over your daughter, every morning tangled in the sheets was gone. The pain was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Miguel carried your sobbing, screaming figure to the bed. He laid next to you as a tear slid down his own cheek. The screams that emanated from you were haunting; he still heard them in his nightmares to this day.

You wore yourself out so profoundly that you simply lost consciousness. Miguel’s mind swirled with doubt and guilt. He thought back to the moments he’d witnessed on his monitor between the two of you. He was never able to find a flaw in either of you, nor your daughter. Now, he’d thrown a huge wrench in everything. Maybe he’d made a mistake in taking your husband’s place.

You stirred in bed next to him a few hours later. Your face was puffy and your voice was hoarse, but you looked at him with rage. You leapt out of bed before Miguel was fully awake. Instinctually, he activated his suit. His talons and claws shone under the digital fabric.

You screamed again in fear and confusion. Miguel deactivated the suit, returning to the normal clothes he was wearing.

You slid down the wall, cradling your knees. Fear, exhaustion, confusion, and heartbreak clouded your mind.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you!” Miguel looked panicked. He took a step towards you cautiously.

“Why did you come here!?” You screamed at him.

“I- I don’t know. I couldn’t handle the idea of Gabriella being without a father.”

“You’re NOT her father!” You stood up and took a step towards him.

“I know…”

“I’m pregnant.” The words spilled from your mouth before you had a chance to think. “That’s how I knew. That you’re not him, I mean.” You were rambling. “My husband had a vasectomy. When the test came back positive, I had proof…”

A wave of nausea hit you as you realized the man you slept with wasn’t your husband. You ran to the bathroom and Miguel followed.

He was speechless. He held your hair back as you gripped the sides of the toilet, and he rubbed your back as his mind raced.

He was thrust into uncharted territory. How would a baby with parents from two different dimensions fare? How would you fare? He couldn’t even begin to comprehend the ramifications of his stupid actions.

Miguel had seen you and your husband’s intimate moments before. He had always wondered why Gabi never had a sibling, but he made the assumption that you had some sort of contraceptive. The idea that your husband had a vasectomy never even crossed his mind.

You sat up from the toilet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Miguel stood up quickly to grab you a washcloth.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” You asked as your chest heaved. You could feel a migraine beginning to set in.

“I need to go back to my lab and run some tests.” The lack of emotion in his voice cut you.

You remembered your husband’s reaction to your first pregnancy, how he lit up so brightly at the news. To the man in front of you, your pregnancy seemed to be a liability and nothing more.

You glared at him as you took the washcloth. You pressed it to your forehead. A long moment of silence passed.

He reached out slowly and touched your cheek. “I’m sorry…”

“People die all the time, you know.” You said flatly. “You make it sound like my husband’s death was predetermined. If that’s what fate had in store for him, and for us, then that’s the way it was meant to be…”

You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. Miguel stood, too, and watched you. “Gabi and I would’ve figured it out. We would’ve gotten through it together.”

“I know you would’ve. You’re an incredible mother.” You watched him stare at you in the reflection. He was looking at you with sympathy and love. You felt your heart flutter. Guilt followed immediately after. The rollercoaster of emotions was exhausting.

“Go figure out what the fuck is going to happen to me.” You turned to look at him. “We need to know sooner rather than later. I could use some space from you, too. I’m still upset.” You crossed your arms and looked away from him.

He took your comments in stride and gave you another look of sympathy. He activated his suit and tapped away at the device on his wrist.

You covered your ears as a loud mess of colors and lights tore a hole open in your room. Miguel was gone in an instant.

Miguel tore through the portal and stepped into his lab in the building that would eventually become the Spider Society.

“Lyla,” he called as he walked over to his computer.

“Look who’s back? How’s married life treatin’ ya?” She asked sarcastically.

“Contact Peter and prepare the lab. We need to run some tests.”

Hours later, Miguel and Peter were driving themselves mad trying to find a circumstance where tissue from two different dimensions remained stable. The results were grim, time after time.

“Miguel, this is-” Peter began.

“Don’t even say it.” Miguel growled. Peter had never heard him take that tone before.

Every possible multi-dimensional combination ended in decay.

The facts stared back at Miguel, and he had to face reality. He pinched the bridge of his nose when his computer alerted him to an anomaly in your universe. Then, another. And another.

Hundreds of bizarre events were occuring in your universe. The tides stopped, gravity changed, and worst of all, things and people all over the world were glitching.

A massive hole opened underneath your version of Brooklyn.

Miguel and Peter suited up and ran in.

“Go find your wife and daughter, I’ll see what I can find out!” Peter called. Miguel nodded and ran at a breakneck speed towards your home.

He found you on the ground, half concious.

“Amor,” he called. He held you in his arms, and he knew he was too late.

“Miguel,” you tried to smile, but you glitched in his arms and groaned out in pain.

He picked you up and began to run towards the campground where Gabi was.

It felt like every cell of your body was on fire. You stared up at him, and a part of you knew that he had something to do with your universe tearing at the seams. Slowly, you were slipping out of his grasp like sand.

Miguel kept his gaze trained on you. He had no idea how he was going to fix this.

“Find her. Save her.” Those were your last words. Miguel blinked and you were gone.

Shock overcame him. He found himself on all fours hurdling towards your daughter. He heard her in the distance, and swooped her up before swinging the opposite way.

He saw Peter in the distance and ran from the white emptiness that began consuming the city.

If he could save Gabriella, it might have been worth it.

He ran, pushing his superspeed to the limit as Gabi screamed in his arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” He tried to reassure her as he tucked her into his chest. He saw people in front of him simply vanish, and fear gripped his heart like a vice.

If he could get away from the crowd for just a minute, he could portal away with your daughter.

He continued running, seeing an opening in the distance.

“Papa!” Gabi cried. He looked down, and she was gone. He stopped dead in his tracks. To him, there was nothing left worth saving. The whiteness enveloped him, and soon, Miguel and Peter stood in a vast, empty nothing.

“Miguel, we have to go. We don’t know what’s going to happen.” Peter tugged on his arm.

The words fell on deaf ears. Miguel was still staring down at his empty grasp, wondering where his daughter had gone.

Peter dragged him through the portal.

Time was a blur for awhile after that. Lyla analyzed every scrap of data, Peter recruited more spider-people, and the canon was discovered.

Miguel swore to never let it happen again.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #across the spiderverse

114 notes · View notes

abitohoney · 6 months

Text

Insatiable

CH2 - Once Bitten AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5 || CH6 || CH7

Vampire Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Story Tags: Vampire Sevika, Soft Sevika, liaison reader, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Grinding, Sexual Tension, Biting, Drinking, Smut, Clothed Sex, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Assault, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Minor Character Death, Vampire Silco, vampire Ran, definitely took some creative liberties on vampire lore here, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation Kink, Strap-Ons, Overstimulation

Word Count: 3.5k

Story Summary: As the new liaison between Piltover and the Undercity, you've been guided by the enigmatic escort Ran to meet with their boss- and fearsome criminal kingpin- Silco, as well as his alluring right-hand woman Sevika. You're well aware that plenty of shady things take place in the depths below, but there's something particularly mysterious about these three that you can't quite put your finger on.

AN: This is already in process over on AO3.

To your surprise, Silco had sent for you to come again the following week. You assumed that Sevika had lied to him about your last visit, covering up your sudden disappearance. But would she be there this time?

The lift ride and subsequent walk to the Last Drop was unnerving. You wanted desperately to ask Ran if Sevika would be there, but feared it would sound suspicious, especially when Ran knew you’d hightailed it out of there so quickly last time. So instead, you worried at the inside of your cheek, damn near chewing it raw.

When Ran swung the door open to Silco’s office you were greeted with an empty room. No Silco. No Sevika.

“Sit,” Ran instructed, nodding to the settee.

Flashbacks of the last time you’d been on that seat played behind your mind’s eyes. The way Sevika looked at you with such lust. The way her hand and mouth had moved across your skin in an almost possessive nature. The deep, hungry groans and growls that rumbled from her chest.

“Will Sevika be joining?” you asked without thinking as you took a seat. You realized your mistake too late, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I- I mean will Silco be here soon?” you quickly attempted to cover your slip.

Unfortunately for you, it didn’t go unnoticed. Ran lifted a brow, their black lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Both will be here tonight,” they replied before heading to a small bar cart on the opposite side of the room. “Drink?”

“Oh. Sure. Whatever you suggest.” You could certainly use a drink with how fried your nerves were.

Hands fidgeting where they rested in your lap, you tried to distract yourself, observing the room's contents. You’d been in there over half a dozen times at least, but never really had time to take in your surroundings. You were usually too caught up in the mysterious and powerful aura both Sevika and Silco seemed to exude. Or more recently, just simply enthralled by Sevika in all aspects, many of which were unprofessional in nature.

On a small table just to the left of the settee sat a lovely gramophone. It looked surprisingly clean, as if it had been recently used. The thought of Silco or Sevika enjoying music brought a smile to your face. You honestly couldn’t imagine what either of them would fancy.

Silco’s large wooden desk was surprisingly ornate given the conditions of the Undercity. His tall, leatherback chair was just as regal. On one corner of his desk sat a pile of books, which from your position you couldn’t quite make out the titles. The opposite corner housed a lovely antique lamp and an ashtray covered in child-like neon-colored drawings, which you assumed his adoptive daughter had drawn. You’d yet to meet the young girl, but Sevika had mentioned her several times. Clearly those two did not favor each other.

Your observations were cut short when Ran showed up before you, metal hand extended to hand you a drink.

You took it with a quiet, “Thank you.”

Ran simply grinned in return, then headed for the door.

Were they really going to leave you in Silco’s office alone?

As if hearing your question, Ran turned to you before stepping out. “Sevika will be here soon.” They shot you one more impish grin before disappearing behind the door.

Something about the way they spoke- the way they looked at you- made you think they knew more than they should.

With a long sigh, you turned your attention to your drink. It was a dark amber color. You brought the glass to your nose and inhaled. Whiskey of some sort. A sip confirmed it, and burned your throat. Several coughs broke free despite your effort to hold them back, and as luck would have it, Sevika chose that moment to step in.

A single dark brow arched at your sputtering and watering eyes.

“Sorry,” you managed to get out between coughs, “Just not used to anything this strong.”

Sevika strode over to the settee without a reply.

After wiping away a few errant tears from your eyes, you realized Sevika was carrying her own drink.

Maybe she's nervous too?

She took a seat in her usual spot on the center of the settee, thighs spread wide.

The seat cushions sank beneath her weight, causing you to nearly tip into her. Righting yourself, you peered up at her. Gray eyes were on you, but her expression was stoic, unreadable.

Say something.

You took another, more careful, sip of your drink to calm your nerves and distract yourself.

Sevika moved her human arm to rest along the back of the seat, her hand once again just behind your head.

It made the little hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Your skin felt electric, as if any touch from her would send sparks flying. You swallowed hard, eyes darting to her lips as she brought her drink to them. The liquid in her glass was red. Bright red. Almost like wine, but not quite. Unable to look away, you watched with blatant interest as she pressed the clear glass to those delightfully soft lips. Lips you could remember pressed to your own. Lips that had hungrily moved along your skin. Lips that you were dying to feel again.

She downed the remainder of her drink in one go. Something akin to a groan pulled from her throat as she set the glass on the coffee table in front of the settee.

You could have sworn for a moment her pupils had grown wider, but as soon as you blinked, they were normal again. With your attention fixated on her lips again, you watched a small trickle of red liquid slip from the corner of her mouth.

Without thinking, you reached out and swiped your thumb across the stray liquid, smearing it across her lips before it could slide down her chin. You licked your own lips, mimicking what you expected her to do.

Sevika froze, wide gray eyes meeting yours.

Oh no.

Your eyes went equally wide.

What did you just do?

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted, quickly pulling your hand away. “That was inappropriate.” And then the dam broke and everything came flooding out. “I’m sorry about our last meeting too. I- I should not have let anything like that happen. I shouldn’t have come onto you like that. I stepped out of line, acted unprofessionally, and-”

“Hey!”

The sudden, gruff interruption had you closing your mouth immediately. You met her eyes again, fearful you had further upset her. But you were surprised to see an expression you had never expected to see on Sevika. She was frowning, red-stained lips downturned and gray eyes glistening.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, much quieter now that she had your attention. She turned away, staring off to the other side of the room. “I can’t explain why I reacted the way I did, but it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Her eyes met yours again. “I wanted to keep going.”

“Really?” you asked breathlessly.

“Yes.”

She wanted to keep going?

Well, so did you.

"Silco's not going to be here for a while, is he?" You asked with a small playful smile. You knew damn well by that point these early arrivals were for her personal benefit.

"No."

You took one last gulp of your liquid courage before setting it on the coffee table. “Well, we can pick up where we left off,” You said softly and placed a hand on her thigh. “If you want to.”

Sevika’s throat bobbed, then her gaze dropped to where your fingers splayed along her leg.

You could practically see the gears turning in her head, and Janna you couldn’t take the silence. Couldn’t take not knowing if she would reject or accept your advances. Maybe whatever had bothered her last time still lingered. You didn’t want to push her.

Before you could withdraw your hand, she finally met your eyes and answered with a husky, “I want to.”

Your heart leapt to your throat. Without hesitation, as if pulled to her body by some invisible force, you moved to straddle one of her thighs. You wrapped your arms around her neck and brought your mouth to hers before she could react. You traced the length of her lips, expecting something sweet, something fruity, like wine. Instead you were met with something entirely different. Almost coppery in flavor.

But before you could dwell on that any longer, you felt her hands grasp your waist and drag you further up her thigh. The friction against your clothed heat left you moaning against her mouth.

She took the opportunity of your parted lips to dip her tongue inside, swiping over yours hungrily. She lifted you up off her thigh, just enough to scoot you further back before setting you down and dragging you towards her again.

You broke the kiss to gasp, pleasure radiating from between your legs. When you felt her lift to repeat the motion, you rocked against her, further increasing that delightful friction.

She let you take the lead and set the pace, her hands helping guide your grinding. Pupils wide, she watched with fascination as your face contorted in pleasure. Greedy eyes fell to your parted lips just before she leaned forward to capture your bottom lip between her teeth and pull.

Her bite was oddly sharp, drawing a startled yelp from you. Though it quickly dissolved into a soft moan as her teeth relinquished their hold so she could suck the stinging flesh into her mouth.

Your hips stuttered, breaking the rhythm as the tension inside you quickly built.

She finally released your lip, allowing you to roll your head back as another moan spilled out. She took the opportunity to kiss down the stretched length of your neck, nipping and licking along the way. With her nose buried in the crook of your neck, she inhaled deeply, groaning as your scent filled her head.

“You- You like- my perfume?” you managed to moan out between the rocking of your hips.

She took another deep breath. “Mhmm.”

“I- wore it- just for you.”

You could feel her lips curl against your neck. “Trying to court me?” she murmured.

A breathy laugh slipped past your parted lips. “I- think- we’re long past- that point.”

Running her nose up along the column of your throat, she groaned huskily, “You smell so fucking sweet.” Then her voice lowered, so deep and quiet you almost couldn’t hear over the blood buzzing in your ears, “Bet you taste even sweeter.”

“Sevika,” you moaned, hips stuttering again as a warm wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

Janna, her deep, sensual voice was heaven sent.

Next thing you knew, she had you flipped onto your back, head atop one of the pillows. You blinked up at her, startled by the sudden move, but the moment she worked her knee between your legs, you were right back where you’d left off.

You mewled as she started grinding against you in earnest, working herself against your thigh at the same time. Never had you thought fucking with your clothes on could feel so damn good. Your head rolled back against the pillow, leaving you exposed to her, inviting her back.

And she took the invitation.

Her mouth latched onto your neck again, chest rumbling against yours as she growled hungrily. Fingers gripped harshly at your waist, preventing you from meeting her thrusts.

You were getting to that blissful precipice much quicker than you were prepared for, that coil wound tight in your belly and ready to snap at any moment. Desperate to chase that release, you whined at your inability to rock with her.

“Sevika, please,” you whimpered.

Rather than release or loosen her grip, she increased it, nails biting at your skin through your clothing. In the back of your mind you prayed she wouldn’t stop like she had last time she got this worked up.

Then her pace quickened.

Her mouth on your neck was relentless. Sucking, licking, and dragging teeth. Her breath was wild, ragged, and desperate. Her groans rumbled deep from her chest with each thrust of her hips.

The air in the room suddenly became suffocatingly dry, hot and thick. Her scent- the smell of cigarillos, smoke, and the musk of her arousal- flooded your head.

You reached your hands out blindly to bury them in her hair as you helplessly attempted to meet her thrusts.

Your head began to spin. You felt dizzy- overwhelmed by her presence. Her hands on your hips. Her mouth on your neck. Her grunts and groans. Her intoxicating smell. Her power over you.

You wanted to give yourself to her.

You would give yourself to her.

“Please Sevika,” you mewled.

Sharp teeth dragged up the side of your neck.

The coil in your belly threatened to snap. “I’m so close!”

Her human hand shot up to cover your mouth, muffling your cries of ecstasy when you finally fell off that cliff.

Bright white light flashed behind your closed eyes as pleasure crashed over your body like waves. Every muscle in your body spasmed, her name a faint moan against her hand.

But just when you thought those waves were turning into the rippling aftershocks, an unexpected sharp pain radiated from two tiny points along the side of your neck.

A cry ripped from your throat, muted by the press of Sevika’s hand over your mouth. Your eyes flew open to stare wildly at the rafters above. Your body shook helplessly beneath the weight of her body. Bright red took over your vision, like blood slowly dripping down the scene before you.

Heat seared through your veins like fire, but pleasure continued to pulse from your core. Blood roared in your ears, drowning out the ravenous groans of Sevika as she remained latched onto your neck and grinding against your thigh.

Your vision grew darker and darker. The roaring in your ears louder and louder. The pain mixed pleasure stronger and stronger until–

Darkness.

Silence,

Numbness.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, consciousness creeping back. When your vision finally came into focus you didn’t find yourself staring up at your bedroom ceiling as you expected. Instead you were left with the familiar image of large rafters running along a tall ceiling. Bright neon doodles decorating the beams.

Silco’s office.

You jolted upright, head spinning at the sudden shift.

What the hell happened?

As you peered forward in a daze, you were met with mismatched eyes. Surprisingly bored mismatched eyes.

“I see you’ve finally decided to join the waking,” Silco drawled from his seat behind his desk.

Blinking several more times, you tried to recall what had happened. How you had ended up passed out on Silco’s settee. “I- I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I’m- not sure what happened.”

Silco set down the paperwork he’d been holding to fully regard you. “It would appear to me that you fell asleep on my settee.”

You were no stranger to Silco’s snark and wit, but that was not the time or place you wished to be on the receiving end of it.

Sevika.

You were with Sevika.

“Where’s Sev-” before you could finish your question, a jolt of pain sprang from a point in your neck as your head swiveled to search for her. You gasped, handing shooting up to touch the side of your neck. The moment your fingers made contact, you were rattled again, but this time by a wave of pleasurable heat. A short, blurred vision appeared behind your eyes.

A woman’s face. Sevika’s face. Pupils wide and hungry.

A quiet, unexpected moan pulled from your throat.

Whatever it was, quickly faded, replacing your pain and pleasure with the horrifying realization that you had just moaned in front of Silco. Your cheeks burned red hot.

Could this night… day?... get any worse?

“I’m so sorry!” you blurted out as you sprang to your feet.

You gave Silco no time to respond, immediately booking it for the door, by which Ran stood wearing that damned knowing smirk. They opened the door for you- bless them- allowing you to bolt out without any hesitation.

“Hold up speedy,” Ran called after you.

“I don’t need to be escorted. Thank you!” you called back without looking, running down the stairway as quickly as you could. You made it no further than the last step when you felt metal fingers wrap around your wrist. You spun around to face Ran, your eyes wide.

“Can’t do that. Boss’s orders,” Ran explained with a raise of their brow, challenging you to argue.

Heart hammering in your chest, your eyes flitted to the large group of Silco’s lackeys now watching your little scene from their seats around the bar. You swallowed, then turned back to Ran’s expectant face.

Janna, you wanted nothing more than to get away from Ran. They had to have heard your inappropriate little outburst as well. How would you even explain that?

‘Sorry, I was just remembering doing terribly unprofessional, dirty things with your co-worker when I was supposed to be helping your city.’

“O-okay,” you finally gave in. You couldn’t make even more of a scene by trying to refuse their service. Especially not with the hoard of Silco’s men and women watching. Any of which could very easily force you into submission.

“Good girl,” Ran purred with a playful grin.

What?

Before you could fully process that response, you found yourself being gently guided through the exit, Ran’s metal hand resting at the small of your back.

- - - - - - - - - -

The entire way back home, you wracked your brain for what had happened. Not much time had seemed to pass since your last recollection. It was still the dead of night, the moon in the Piltover sky above not that far from where it had been when you left earlier that night. You guessed not more than a few hours could have passed.

Yet, you couldn’t seem to recall what all had happened. When you had fallen asleep. Why you had fallen asleep.

You remembered sitting on the settee with Sevika. Just the two of you. Both drinking.

The drink.

Had that been why you’d passed out? It was a particularly strong drink compared to what you were accustomed to. But could that really have knocked you out that quick and that hard?

Bits and pieces of your time with Sevika started to emerge, but not enough to make sense of the events in whole. She had admitted she wanted to continue where you two had left off at the prior meeting, to which you made advances. There were moments of her mouth on yours. On your neck. Her hands gripping at your hips. Your bodies grinding together. Pleasure. So much pleasure.

But then it all blurred too much.

Mind back to the present, you made your way to your bathroom. Perhaps a nice, hot shower could do you some good. Calm your nerves and clear your mind.

After turning the water as hot as you could handle, you stripped down, tossing your clothes into a nearby hamper.

Steam quickly filled the small room as you closed your eyes and scrubbed your body. Your thoughts however, couldn’t seem to stray from earlier that night.

Did you end up meeting with Silco? Or did you pass out with Sevika and she just left you there, not wanting to disturb you?

Once you finished rinsing off, you grabbed a towel and worked it over your body as you made your way to your sink. With one hand, you swiped across the foggy mirror above, revealing your very tired looking face staring right back at you.

And that’s when you saw it.

Two small marks along the side of your neck. The same place you’d touched earlier in Silco’s office. You wiped the mirror again, then craned your neck to inspect it closer. They appeared to just be tiny, circular puncture wounds, but they were mostly healed. Didn’t appear fresh.

Odd.

Hesitantly, you brought your fingers to the marks, remembering what had happened when you touched them the first time. Just a brush against the marks and your legs nearly gave way. Pleasure hit you like a shockwave and another memory replayed in your head.

Red. Dark red. You were gazing up at the rafters in Silco’s office. But everything was in shades of red. And there was a deep, rumbling groan against your neck.

Sevika.

You shook your head, knocking yourself out of the stupor. Your gaze fell to where your hands gripped the sides of the sink so hard your knuckles threatened to turn white.

What did these memories mean? Why the red? Why did Sevika sound so… feral?

Realizing you weren’t going to find the answers on your own, you decided you would pay a visit to Sevika the following day. She’d certainly be able to clear everything up.

CH3>>

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes #ran #arcane ran

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lullabyes22-blog · 7 months

Text

Arcane Fanfic Scenarios

Fic scenarios that will probs never get written but are fun to imagine:

Bobby Pins and Angel Wings: Five times Jinx and Ekko nearly kissed - and the one time they did. Bittersweet snippets of childhood games and cozy rooftop chats, told in flashback form. All interwoven with Jinx and Ekko going all-out during a shoot-out in the present day.

Category: Angst, Fluff, Violence.

Ships: Jinx x Ekko

Some Like it Hot: Crack oneshot. Silco makes a guest appearance on Hot Ones and dishes out the complexities of revolution and the struggles of running the drug trade and being a single father - all while absolutely devouring the ghost peppers.

Y'all. This is Zaun. You expect them not to have spicy food?

Ends with Sean Evans going utterly non-verbal after trying one of Zaun's own homebrewed concoctions... while Silco chugs a glass of yogurt and smiles slyly for the cameras.

And then gets the hiccups<3

Category: Crack, Humor, Politics.

Ships: Zaun x Spicy cuisine.

Arcane Meets Isekai: Character-x-Reader themed Choose Your Own Adventure where reader is flung into the chaotic and magical world of Runeterra, and ends up simultaneously stealing the hearts of a shyly brilliant scientist (Viktor) and a ruthless Undercity revolutionary (Silco). Shenanigans ensue. Multiple endings and wild scenarios. Heimerdinger's poro was hurt in the making of this story - and will be hurt again.

Category: Angst, Fluff, Crack, Smut.

Ships: Primarily Viktor x Reader and Silco x Reader. But there can be so much more.

Empires Rise and Fall: Silco and Mel and up brokering a marriage pact to keep their cities united. It's an unexpected match made in Heaven - with a dash of Hell. Also a warlord mother-in-law who refuses to keep her nose out of the marital chamber. And a step-daughter creeping like a golem in the rafters...

Drabbles of the angsty, fluffy, smutty and political variety. Plus a honeymoon in Noxus. Complete with near abductions and survived assassination attempts.

"Mawwiage. That bwessed awwangement. That dweam within a dweam..."

Category: Angst, Smut, Fluff.

Ships: Silco x Mel, Silco x Power, Mel x Politics.

Through a Glass Darkly: Extremely dark fic. Silco's life post-drowning. Details everything from his recovery, to his rise as a kingpin-on-the-make, to the development of Shimmer, to his alliance with Singed, and his plans for payback. All while he watches Vander from afar with his new family, and plots to destroy both.

Also features plenty of near run-ins with baby Powder - and a sense of fated inevitability.

The shark was always lying in wait.

Unbeknownst to him, so was fatherhood.

Category: Angst, Gore.

Ships: Silco x Vander

Snakes and Ladders: A retelling of Forward but Never Forget/XOXO from Mel's PoV. Plenty of MelJay cuteness, flashbacks of her life as a Noxian heiress, the grim legacy of Ambessa's lessons, her childhood games with Kino, and a darkly decadent slice of Mel × Silco, as her elusive arch-ally lures her deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of snakes and ladders that is Zaun...

Category: Angst, Smut, Fluff.

Ships: Mel x Jayce, Mel x Silco.

Redux: Multichapter monstrosity. A time travel AU where Jinx, twenty seven years old, is embroiled in an ongoing battle with Piltover - and with her sister Vi. Tired, disillusioned, and with only her ghosts for company, she reminisces bittersweetly about her girlhood days with Silco. Then she breaks into Ekko's workshop and steals his infamous watch, ready to tamper with it and go back all the way to the beginning, before the Day of Ash.

This time she'll make sure they all live: her parents, Vander, Vi, Silco, Ekko, Benzo, Mylo and Claggor.

Safe together.

Long story short: she miscalculates and ends up at the midway point before Vander drowns Silco in the Pilt. Now Jinx has to keep her wits and hide her secrets, as she struggles to survive in a much deadlier and more volatile Zaun. All while she ingratiates herself into their revolutionary circle, and attempts to heal the rift between its two leaders, before it can widen further.

Easier said than done when both men begin taking an interest in Jinx for their own mercenary agenda. And by the end, will slit each others' throats to see said agenda fulfilled.

Dammit.

Where is that Boy Savior when you need him?

Written as a darkly comical fic from Jinx's POV. Back-to-the-Future flavored adventures. Full of booms, oopsie-loopsies, and political commentary.

All our girl wants is to undo the jinx before it jinxes everyone. Instead, she ends up getting baby Powder quite literally 'unalived,' causing heaps of destruction, and accidentally becoming a mentor figure to young Vi. Meanwhile, as Silco's peer rather than his beloved daughter, she can't help but be confronted with glaring flaws in her pedestalized Papa's ideology. All while young Silco, convinced she's either a spy in their midst, or his very own Lady of the Lake sent to illuminate the rightness of Zaun's path, finds his extremist tendencies widening by a mile. Much like Vander's violent streak and his determination to nip Silco's plans in the bud...

A fix-it fic gone off the rails. Don't time travel, folks.

Oh, and there's a sweet Timebomb twist by the end<3

Category: Angst, Horror, Fluff, Comedy, Mood Whiplash Galore.

Ships: Ekko x Jinx, Silco x Vander, Silco x Revolution, Jinx x Chaos.

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shina913 · 1 year

Text

Percussions | MYG

Pairing: MYG x Fem!Reader

Rating: Rated-R; 🔞 NSFW

Genre: Mafia!AU; Assassin!AU; angst

Summary: Min Yoongi, a former CIA explosives expert, now works as a hired hitman. You contact him to enlist his help in exacting revenge on a family of mobsters who murdered your family years ago. Complications arise when Yoongi finds a personal connection to your case.

Warnings: depictions of violence, namely: a bomb explosion, fist fight, mentions of blood, a gun aimed at close-range; cussing; thoughts of revenge

Word count: 2.1K+

⚠️ Please bear in mind that this is a work of fiction. Still, I'm trying my best to avoid being too explicit about the crime and violence included here. Please proceed with caution! If there is any warning that I've failed to list, please tell me so and I will correct it right away. Thank you!

A/N: This was initially something I had in mind based on this Anon ask but I don't know if it really fulfills it. It sort of turned into something else.

Anyway, I don't know what I want this to be yet. I guess I'm testing the waters as this is the first time I'm trying to write in this type of genre/au. Thanks to @internetjunkdrawer and @itdoesntmatterwhy for looking this over and for pushing me to add nuance to this story. I’m including you in here, too @yoongukie-ff for the overall encouragement 🥹

I hope it's good enough!

Ten years ago, Captain Min Yoongi and Colonel Kwang Chunghee were explosives specialists working for the CIA. After months of planning, they were finally ready to carry out their mission to take down a notorious drug kingpin.

However, while waiting for the car transporting their target, they were surprised to see a young girl in the backseat with him – his daughter. Yoongi instantly knew that this would complicate things and expressed his frustration with the recon team for overlooking this crucial detail.

Yoongi suggests to Kwang that they abort the mission to spare the innocent child. He points out that they have another window of opportunity tomorrow since they have the target's daily routine memorized. Kwang insists that they see it through. "We've watched this guy for months. It's now or never, Min! We need this guy dead, or it's our asses on the line.”

Yoongi hesitates, standing his ground and refusing to harm any innocents.

"As your superior, you need to proceed with the mission, Captain!" Kwang barks at him.

"But what about the girl?" Yoongi argues.

"Fuck the girl!" Kwang yells, ignoring Yoongi's pleas. "She is collateral damage. Now, I repeat, you will proceed with the mission. That's a fucking order!"

Reluctantly, Yoongi obeys. The explosion itself goes without a hitch, but it kills the child in the process.

Yoongi is devastated by the child's wrongful death but brushes it aside. It's all part of the job.

As he walks back toward their vehicle, Kwang ambushes Yoongi by slamming him against a sharp corner of the truck, where he sustains injuries to his face.

“Don’t you dare fucking go against my orders again, Min! I taught you everything I know–and you dare question my authority?” He shouts.

Yoongi, angered by the unprovoked attack, tries to fight back but Kwang pulls his gun on him. He instinctively puts his hands up, his right eye blinded by the blood dripping into it. Must be an orbital fracture.

“Are you going to kill me too, Colonel?”

Kwang smirks. “You’re a specialist, captain. You deserve worse.” He kicks Yoongi in the stomach, making him lose his balance. He points his gun at him again. “I’ll tell the Major General that you tried your best but made a tactical mistake so I had to finish the job for you.”

In his anger, Yoongi makes a grab for the gun. Kwang is caught off-guard, lost in his ego trip, and is outmaneuvered easily.

Yoongi attacks Kwang savagely. “You like watching them die, don’t you? You sick fuck!” He continues to beat him to a pulp. “That’s not what we stand for!”

“Admit it,” Kwang laughs, “You like it, too.”

“My job is not who I am, Colonel. I just happen to be good at it. But you?” He shook his head. “You need to be stopped!”

Yoongi finally backs off and leaves Kwang bloodied and bruised. He takes the first flight out to return home. Upon his arrival, he resigned and reported Kwang's actions to their superiors and the ethics committee. Kwang was subsequently discharged from service.

Yoongi is still troubled by memories of his last mission, despite his efforts to move on. The thought of the child's death continues to haunt him and he feels guilty for what happened. Kwang's words have also left a deep impact on him and he struggles to forget them. He knows he did the right thing by reporting Kwang's actions, but sometimes wonders if he could have done something differently during the mission.

Going into his assignment, he knew difficult decisions would have to be made. All he wanted was to serve his country and protect innocent lives, even if that meant sacrificing a few bad ones.

Perhaps the end did justify the means.

******

Years later, Yoongi lives a solitary life.

He works as a freelance hitman. Some days, he is still haunted by the ghosts of his past. He doesn’t enjoy what he does for a living but the fact was, he was very good at it. Even with an honorable discharge, the pension was shit.

He found an untapped market for his skills and it’s proved to be very lucrative.

Desperate people contact him through an encrypted, closed-circuit online system that caters to assassins and mafia lords. Yoongi specializes in “tailoring” his explosions; building and planting bombs that blow up only the intended target while leaving innocent bystanders unharmed.

But he only takes the cases that interest him.

He fires up his laptop and logs into his personal server, entering a code to access it. It had been months since he last checked his messages. He was losing interest in the business and slowly starting to back away from it.

There were a handful of notes waiting for him, including a few from the same person. The latest one had just come through minutes ago, reading: "Please. Free me from this."

He practically knows your screen name by heart based on your previous online exchanges. He was intrigued by your initial posting and responded to gain some basic information. During his independent investigation, he discovered that not only was there an emotional connection between you and the targets, but their known associates made him mark the job as a red flag. He decided to skip your next few messages and instead moved on to another job that seemed simpler.

Now that he's back, he could clearly see how persistent you still were.

While pondering what to do next, he switches to another open tab on his screen, which shows the current funds he has amassed.

Nine figures. That is above and beyond any amount he has ever had in his possession. He should be content with it. He could cash out and disappear. All he has to do is shut his laptop down and run the self-destruct 'eraser' installed in it to wipe it clean but that was too easy.

The messages you sent to him were desperate and frantic…because you were.

They say you’re the best. Name your price.

I want them dead.

I’m ready to give you all of my money, just help me.

One thing about Yoongi is that, although he is practical and realistic, he’s unafraid to push the envelope. Part of that is due to his ego, and the fact that he is good at what he does. His colleagues in the military said so, and all of his clients in the criminal underworld say the same.

His eyes fixate on the "call" icon on the screen. His cursor hovers over it, hesitating. He never calls any of his clients unless there is a problem with the job or payment, both of which are rare occurrences. He prides himself on always getting the job done and receiving prompt payments.

"What the heck," he says to himself. He’s bored, and he could do the job with one hand tied behind his back. Besides, the money could pad his wallet a bit more.

Finally, he clicks on the call icon. He waits as the line trills on the other end.

After two rings, you answer. “Hello?”

Surprised by the sound of your voice, which is soft and calm, he takes a moment to respond. It’s the opposite of the agitated tone in your most recent message.

“Are you there?” You ask softly, increasing the volume in your encrypted app.

“I’m here,” he finally says. “I just saw your messages.” He lied. He had seen your messages before. He just chose to ignore them in hopes that you’d move on but you just wouldn’t let up.

“I apologize for calling you late at night.”

“No problem at all. It’s not like I sleep these days anyway,” you reply. “Does this mean that you’re picking up my contract?”

He pauses again before answering as if considering his words. Perhaps he thinks you'll take the hint if he's more straightforward. "I don't think I'm the right person to do this for you," he finally says.

You almost whine, "Why not? I think you're exactly the person who can get the job done for me."

He smirks. "And you believe that blowing these people up is the key to your revenge? Why not go to court?"

"The courts are on their payroll," you deadpan.

He pokes his tongue against his cheek and tries to offer an alternative. “I know some other guys. Trained snipers—“

“No,” you say curtly. “Bullets,” you sigh, “...can be imprecise. I’ve waited too long and put up too much money just to miss. I want insurance. I want them to suffer as I suffered.”

This wasn’t a new sentiment for Yoongi. He’s picked up contracts ranging from business squabbles to someone who just wanted to intimidate a rival. It was all very cut and dry.

He wasn’t much for personal vendettas. Too messy.

“I hear you can control your explosions.” You say. “They say that you can shape your charges, create shells to restrict the range—“

“That’s an oversimplification of a very complex and intricate process.” He interjects.

You smile into the phone. It seems you struck a nerve. “Explain it to me then,” you coax him.

“People don’t usually want to hear all that. They don’t care for the details.” Nobody wanted to listen to him wax poetic about different types of detonation cords.

“But I want to hear it. Plus…I like the sound of your voice,” you say smoothly.

“Hm,” he chuckles. “Flattery won’t make me reveal my trade secrets to clients.”

Confidence growing, you say, “Oh, I’m your client now?”

His screen quietly pings with your exact coordinates. He could very well hang up at this moment to let you know that he wasn’t interested in the job. And yet, there was something about you that made him want to stay on the line.

Yoongi leans his head back. He has amassed more than enough money from previous contracts to buy a generous plot of land in the middle of nowhere and retire there. Completely disappear. The urge to quit has been coming up more often.

But today, he would resist that urge again. Deciding to play coy, he says, “Give me some more time to think about it. I’ll call you back.”

“When?” You ask eagerly.

"I'll send you a message on the server an hour in advance so you can expect it," he says.

As he prepares to hang up, in an act of desperation, you blurt out, "That's not good enough! I need something more reassuring. Is it the money? Do you want more money? I have it!"

"It's not the money—"

"I can help you!"

"And how do you propose to do that?"

"We can work together."

He scoffs. You really are desperate. "I don't need a partner." He always works his contacts solo. He doesn't want to babysit anyone, much less split the paycheck.

"I have an 'in'."

"What do you mean, you have an 'in'?"

Now he's interested. You smile to yourself.

Your target is the most powerful family in the city. Breaking into their inner circle won't be easy, as they have deep, intricate connections. Even the most calculated assassins wouldn't dare cross that line.

But you've spent more than half of your life preparing for this, investing countless hours in planning and scheming. All you need now is a triggerman, and not just any triggerman—you want somebody who can annihilate your enemies.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," you tease him, holding back your pocket aces until he calls your wager.

"Listen," he says impatiently, "I don't have time for games."

"You think I'm playing a game?" you laugh humorlessly. "This is so much bigger than that. These people made the mistake of letting me live. I'll make them regret it."

Your agitation continues to build up. You've been in contact with him for nearly a month now, not counting the time he was offline. He was the only one who responded to messages after revealing your intended target. You don't want him to ghost you again - you're so close! You need him. You soften your tone and push your luck again. "Please. Is there anything I can do to seal this deal? Maybe we can meet?"

"I don't meet," he cuts you off, his finger absently grazing the scar over his eye. He glances at the timer on his screen and sees that he's been on the phone with you for nearly two minutes. He makes a mental note to reconfigure his network scrambler once he ends this call. "And I'm already breaking my rules by calling you," he says wryly, but you're still not about to let him off the hook.

"So why then? Why even call me? Why string me along?"

After a few beats, he says, “I was curious to find out what you sounded like.”

“And?”

Yoongi was never one to back down from a challenge. One last job, he thought. And maybe, once he’s eliminated these targets, he could have some of that peace and freedom that you yearned for.

“Turns out, I like your voice, too.”

Main Fic Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

#bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x you #btsafterdarknet #yoongi angst #bts angst #bts min yoongi #bts yoongi #myg angst #percussions x myg

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ace-of-zaun · 3 months

Text

The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time: Pt. 8

Silco x f!reader - 7.6k words - SFW

cw: fluff, angst, anxiety/dread, injury, medical anxiety, health and illness, taking care of people, talk about self-defence and physical assault, get your seatbelts on lads we’ve got another emotional rollercoaster chapter, but with a fluffy ending bc it’s me

If someone had told kitchen-utensil-salesperson you that one day you’d be having to bribe the Eye of Zaun’s daughter, to keep her quiet about your relationship with said kingpin, you’d have laughed in their faces and told them to get lost.

But alas, here you were.

You’d had a long chat with Jinx about why you weren’t telling people and why she couldn’t tell anyone either. And after surprisingly little convincing from the two of you, Jinx had agreed to keep your secret… for a price. Sweets once a week for every week she kept it a secret.

Dear Janna, was this girl Silco’s daughter.

She’d also sweetened the deal by throwing in a few extra game nights every month, so that’s how you find yourself sitting at Silco’s desk, Jinx on your lap in the chair opposite his, as you play yet another round of Gun Bun.

Silco is, rather annoyingly, picking incredibly obnoxious words on purpose when it’s his turn, (seriously, how many nine-year-olds know the word egregious?) so you decide that this is the perfect opportunity to mess with him.

At first, you simply decide to spell all of your words wrong, irritating him just a little bit more with every line drawn as he fails to guess the correct letters.

Once he cottons on to that, correcting your spelling like a disappointed teacher, you move onto the next level…

You start making words up.

Jinx giggles and squirms about in your lap when you whisper your nefarious plan to her, earning a narrowed look of suspicion from your criminal(ly gorgeous) boyfriend.

Unfortunately, this tactic only works for one round, because when you finally complete the drawing of Mr. Bunny shooting a gun (complete with the obligatory BANG!) and Silco still hasn’t guessed all the letters, Jinx reveals the word with a menacing glee.

And Silco loses it.

“That is not a word,” he says, immediately glaring at you since you’re the obvious instigator.

He looks so grumpy and so adorably exasperated, you just want to kiss him until he forgets both his own name and just how difficult you like to make his life.

“It is!” you argue, staring at him whilst you valiantly battle against the urge to smile, before revealing, “I just made it up.”

His whole expression drops into the most incredulous deadpan.

“Darling.”

“What?” you counter. “All words are made up! It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with me.”

There’s a pause where Silco just stares at you, mismatched eyes glimmering with something just on the edge of dangerous.

You stare back, raising one cheeky eyebrow in challenge. That does it.

“I think it is best we retire for the evening,” he says, tone clipped and impatient, though his eyes never once leave yours.

Jinx whines in disappointment, climbing from your lap onto the desk just so she can launch herself into Silco’s lap. She clings to him like a kitten until he finally gives in to her and agrees to one more game, as long as it doesn’t involve any words.

Which of course means your absolute favourite activity in the whole, wide world. Drawing!

You teach them both a game you played as a child, one where a piece of paper is folded three times, in a way where you can only see one section at a time.

The first person secretly draws the head and shoulders, with some lines over the fold into the next section so the second person can join it up. They then flip it over to the next section, where the second person draws the torso and arms, while the last person then draws legs and feet, making sure to keep your separate drawings hidden until the very end, where you reveal the character you’ve all made together.

You go first to demonstrate, drawing the head of a smiling girl that looks a little bit like Jinx (you know, if Jinx were a squiggly, blue doodle).

After Jinx and Silco have both drawn their sections, you open up the paper and spread it flat on the desk, revealing, to Jinx’s delight, an absolute monstrosity of a character.

Underneath your smiling face, Jinx has doodled a thin torso with long spaghetti arms that loop round and round until their hands rest on their hips. But it’s nothing compared to Silco drawing his own boots and somehow forgetting that he needed to draw legs as well.

You play this game for a few rounds, until it’s Silco’s turn to draw first. Except he takes a millennium, sketching with his pen like he’s in the middle of an art class. But it’s only when you spot him gently rocking the chair from side to side, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, that you realise he’s trying to lull Jinx to sleep.

And surprisingly, it works, humming quietly under his breath until she falls asleep in his lap, adorably curled up with her face against his chest.

Once he’s certain that she’s fast asleep, he lifts his head to give you a knowing look before carefully lifting her and carrying her back to her bedroom. You take the look to mean that you should get changed into your pyjamas so you can both cuddle up when he returns from putting her to bed.

But when you stand up from your chair, groaning as you stretch your tired body towards the rafters, you take a moment to peek at Silco’s drawing, sliding the paper over the varnished wood until you can finally see.

And you swear your heart melts in your chest when you look down at it. A portrait of you, looking happier than you’ve ever seen yourself looking. At least, up until you’d moved in with Silco. Now, you’re pretty sure you look like this most of the time.

You’ve begun to stay in his bedroom a few nights a week, usually when he doesn’t stay up working until dawn like a madman.

Your (imaginary) spy training has gotten a real workout every morning, ensuring no-one sees you make the dash back to your own bedroom, then getting dressed to go and meet Silco in his office like you hadn’t spent the whole night in his bed.

Honestly, part of you wonders if it would just be easier to move some of your clothes into his bedroom, but you’re not sure if he’d want that. The man does have a lot more clothes than you do.

And what if he’s not ready for you to both officially move in together? How would you even approach asking? Should you just do it and blame the goblins when he asks if you put them there? (They’re cheeky little bastards, you know, they’ve stolen enough of your socks from the washing machine.)

You’re just preparing to leave the office, peering around the corner of the doorway to make sure there’s no-one in sight. You’d left the kingpin snoring in his bed just moments ago, and it’s far too early for Sevika to be anywhere near The Drop, so you’re pretty confident you’re not gonna be caught.

Crouching down a little feels like a good, sneaky spy move, so you bend your knees slightly, duck your head, and begin to tip-toe down the hallway as quietly as you can.

And honestly, even after only a few steps in, you’re genuinely starting to feel like you could break into one of those fancy art museums Topside and complete the heist of the century. That is, until a low voice calls out behind you.

“What in Janna’s name are you doing?”

Janna herself would be proud of the way you hold in the blood-curdling scream that threatens to erupt from your vocal folds.

Instead of waking up everyone in the entirety of Zaun and probably some of Piltover, you clutch your chest and hiss out a wheezing, “Holy fucking fuck-”

You spin around to glare at Silco who is standing in the doorway to his office, coffee cup in hand as he leans nonchalantly against the frame.

How didn’t you hear him sneak up? And how the hell did he manage to wake up from being borderline comatose AND make himself a coffee in such a short amount of time?

You squint at him suspiciously as if that’ll make him reveal all his secrets. Maybe he should be the spy…

Silco looks rather amused as he watches you.

“Has anyone ever informed you that you possess quite the potty mouth?” he asks, in that raspy morning voice that is far too hot for its own good.

“Has anyone ever informed you that it’s rude to try to give your girlfriend a heart attack on purpose?” you shoot back.

He holds his free hand to his t-shirt clad chest in mock offence.

“I can assure you, my love, I was attempting no such thing,” he protests with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen in your whole entire existence.

You point at him as a threat.

“Boy, don’t test me. I’ll take you out of my will.”

Silco’s face drops into a faux upset, slapping one hand against his cheek dramatically.

“Oh no, whatever will I do without your collection of novelty ice-cream scoops?” he questions sardonically.

You return it with an overexaggerated gasp, (but deep down you’re secretly pleased he’s starting to play along with your melodrama; oh how the turn tables).

“How dare you!” you exclaim, throwing both hands up to cage your poor, shattered heart, before you turn your nose up to sniff haughtily. “That’s it, I’m breaking up with you.”

Silco swiftly downs the last of his coffee and then tosses the mug onto the sofa behind him blindly, instantly changing your mind on what you just said.

How the fuck did he do that without it breaking into a million pieces? And more importantly, how is he easily the hottest man in the world?

“I think not,” he practically growls, stepping forward into the corridor.

“You can’t stop me,” you announce loftily. “Me and the Scoop Troop are outta here.”

He advances on you slowly until he’s leaning down to speak into your ear, the roughness in his timbre sending a shiver down your spine.

“Then I suppose I shall have to convince you to stay.”

Abruptly, Silco leans down to pick you up, deftly swinging you up into a bridal carry, forcing you to try your best not to squeal and accidentally wake everybody up.

Then, he turns on his heel and carries you back in his office, kicking the door shut behind you as you giggle breathlessly into his chest.

Maybe the reason you look so much happier now after moving in with Silco, is because you are.

Of course, spy training in the mornings is not the only kind of training you embark on.

True to his word, Silco begins to teach you self-defence after the multiple attacks you’ve endured since accepting the job as his negotiator. (To be fair, you’d endured some during your time at the market stall too, but that had been at a significantly lower danger level compared to this.)

So you’re in the bar one early afternoon, a few of the tables pushed out of the way to give you room to properly move about. Silco has given strict orders that no-one is to enter the bar until you’re finished, which had earned a huff of annoyance from Sevika, who would be forced to take the long-winding emergency exit in and out of the building.

Standing across from Silco in the cleared space, you ready yourself to learn some basic defence, hoping it’ll trump your current tactic of just running away really, really fast… (okay, fine, a moderate jog at best).

You’d hoped to learn how to properly use the knife Silco had gifted you in the market, excitedly bringing it along in the hopes that he’ll show you some cool moves.

But he’d confiscated it the very second you’d taken it out of the box and nearly dropped it on your own foot, blade down.

So… self-defence it is, for now.

Your boyfriend (smoking hot; an utter bitch; an absolute icon) stands opposite you, hands clasped behind his back as he talks.

“Today I will show you some basic movements that will allow you to disengage if an attacker were to grab onto you,” he explains, reminding you of your old geography teacher (who was also your everything-teacher because, you know, Zaun). “Then, depending on how well you-”

Silco continues to tell you his lesson plan in detail, but honestly, you stop listening the second you notice that his shirt sleeves are rolled up. And he’s wearing a different waistcoat. It looks a little older than the usual ones he wears, but it’s still hot. Really accentuates his slutty little waist.

Your cheeks get warm just thinking about it.

Is it hot in here or is it just you?

And gods, isn’t he pretty with his hair a little bit messy, those dark waves just the tiniest bit mussed up. And wouldn’t he look even prettier if you ran your hands through it and maybe put your lips on-

“Are you listening?” Silco cuts in.

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, positively startled at the interruption.

“Yes, sir,” you blurt out.

He smirks in response which does not help your predicament in the slightest.

“Very well,” he nods, bringing both hands to rest on his hips. “We will begin by learning a disengagement technique that would be useful if somebody were to-”

You swear you’re trying to listen.

Honestly.

But that voice. And the way his lips move when he talks.

And fuck, it’s hot when his throat bobs when he swallows and-

“Are you ready?”

Uh oh, you did it again.

“Huh?” you mutter, dragging your gaze away from his throat.

“I said, are you ready to try the movements I just explained?” Silco asks, raising one eyebrow expectantly.

“Of course I am,” you scoff confidently, despite having not listened to a single word he’s just said. “I’m practically a cage fighter at this point. I could take you down faster than you could say 2-in-1 decarboxylator and herb infuser.”

He doesn’t ask. In fact, he’s stopped asking what the hell you’re talking about when you’re both busy because it more often than not just leads to a twenty minute monologue, which he��s more than happy to listen to as you lie in bed together. But not when you’re about to learn important skills like how to defend yourself in a fight.

“Alright then, show me,” Silco responds, stepping closer to you to do whatever the hell he’s been talking about for the last five minutes.

Suddenly, he reaches out and grabs a handful of your shirt with one hand, scrunching it up right next to your collarbone.

Your body jolts forward slightly with the motion, eyes flicking up to gawp at him in alarm.

But instead of flipping you over his shoulder and breaking your spine (you assume that was the intent), Silco just looks down at you, waiting patiently for you to make your move.

Of course, you have no idea what you’re doing (ever), so you just stand there like a rat in headlights, staring up at him in awe.

“Grab onto your shirt like I told you, darling,” he instructs softly when you still don’t do anything.

“It’s okay, you can have it if you want,” you whisper back in a daze.

“No, grasp the fabric with this hand,” he says, gently guiding your hand to fist the material, right next to where his hand is still holding onto it. “And then grab onto my wrist with your other hand.”

You do and suddenly, you feel like you’re in a sauna.

Why’s he grabbing your shirt like that? And how in the actual fuck can somebody’s wrist be so goddamn hot?

“Now pull your shirt away from me with your hand and push my wrist away with the other,” Silco continues, seemingly unaware of how flustered you are.

Oh, so that’s what he’s trying to get you to do.

You hesitate for a moment, blankly staring at his arm. Only then does Silco notice your reticence, but he must put it down to nerves because the grip on your shirt lessens slightly.

“It’s alright, my love, just try your best,” he tells you soothingly.

You smile up at him, utterly dazzled by his… him-ness.

“Okay.”

You just want to impress him. To make your silly little guy as proud of you as you are of him.

So you try your best…

Which of course means putting way too much power into it.

With absolutely zero warning, you shove him away from you at the same time as you rip your shirt from his grasp, the force causing you to stumble and trip yourself up on your feet. Instinctively, you reach out and grab onto Silco’s waistcoat, pulling him down with you.

He just about manages to catch the back of your head before it smacks against the floor, but can’t save himself from crashing down on top of you.

Your fingers stay latched onto him as he leans up to check on you, hand still cupping the back of your head protectively.

“Are you alright?” he asks frantically, rapidly looking over you for any injuries.

Your brain must have short-circuited because in lieu of answering, you simply gaze up at him in shock.

The fall appears to have knocked some of his hair loose, now hanging down over his forehead in strands, and sweet Janna, this should be a crime.

It’s not fair. How are you supposed to do anything or even think straight with this?

Silco cups your cheek and calls your name, clearly panicked.

“Can you hear me?”

It’s too much for your poor heart, so give you in and press your lips against his in a passionate kiss.

Silco freezes for a split second before letting out a startled, hmpf!

He moves back, breaking the kiss to hold both of your hands against the floor to stop you from leaning up.

“Darling, this is serious! You cannot kiss me in the middle of training,” he huffs, exasperated.

You hope the puppy-dog eyes will earn you your forgiveness.

“But you’re just so cute.”

He sighs, head hanging down low for a brief second before he meets your gaze again.

“Are you injured?”

“No. Are you?”

Silco appears to be relieved, but also a little perplexed.

“I’m fine, darling. How did you lose your balance so easily?” he asks. “It was supposed to be a simple manoeuvre.”

“I uh… I got distracted,” you say bashfully.

Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind.

Luckily, he just runs a hand through his hair, trying to put it back in place. He fails spectacularly.

“You cannot get distracted in a fight, you must be vigilant at all times,” he tells you, like he’s trying to be stern.

You take no notice.

“Even if the person I'm fighting is ridiculously hot?”

Silco ignores the question (despite the fact that the tips of his ears are turning the loveliest shade of red) and continues pretending to be strict.

“Let’s try getting out of this hold,” he says. “What do you think would be the best way to escape from this position?”

You don’t even bother looking for a way to escape, still too focused on giving some love to your mans.

Leaning up as far as you can, you deliver a quick kiss to his nose, which, to your absolute delight, only makes him blush even more.

He says your name as a scold.

“What did I just say?”

You toss your head to the side and whine, rumbling your legs a little against the floor like a child.

“Why can’t I just do this if someone attacks me? I feel like it’s kinda working.”

“Do what?” Silco asks with a frown.

“Kiss them.”

And gods, you swear the noise that emanates from his chest is a growl.

“Absolutely not,” he grunts, pressing himself slightly closer to you until you involuntarily squeak.

Silco releases his grip on your hands and climbs off of you, helping you to stand up so he can dust off your trousers.

Over the course of the next hour, he does actually teach you one or two methods to escape someone’s grasp, but perhaps more usefully, he explains that it’s better to focus on prevention of attacks, rather than relying on moves that you’re probably going to forget when filled with adrenaline.

But just knowing that you’ll have both a slew of bodyguards and a little bit of knowledge in self-defence makes you feel a bit more confident, which was probably the only reason you agreed to learn in the first place.

Of course, the impromptu lesson ends when you trip again and nearly break your nose falling into a table, this time when you’re only trying to get a glass of water.

Being led carefully back upstairs by Silco, he exhaustedly suggests that training takes place in his office from now on, to which you ask if you can be wrapped up entirely in bubble wrap in what you would call your Safety Suit.

You get no response, which in your books is not strictly a no, so you make a mental note to add an industrial amount of bubble wrap to the next product order you fill out.

Lacing your fingers with his, you give him the biggest, most affectionate smile as you follow him upstairs to the shower, wondering just how in the hell you got so lucky.

It’s only a few weeks later that Jinx gets sick, somehow catching a head cold that thankfully isn’t too concerning, just a bit of a temperature that puts her in bed for a few days.

Although, much like her father, she's incredibly demanding. Which of course only multiplies tenfold the second she starts to feel under the weather, insisting either you or Silco be with her all day every day. So the two of you take shifts, juggling paperwork, meetings, and spending time with Jinx, as well as trying to look after yourselves.

It works for a few days, distracting Jinx when she gets bored or frustrated, coercing her to eat and drink, the three of you even spending time together to discuss her new invention ideas while she’s stuck in bed.

Then, it all goes downhill from there.

You’re on Jinx duty one afternoon, down in the kitchen and in the middle of making her a warm drink when a loud commotion erupts from the bar. Your head pops curiously around the door frame only to be greeted with the sight of utter chaos; a slew of the club’s bouncers and Silco’s usual bodyguards frantically rushing through the club.

For a brief second, you wonder if there’s a security convention happening that you hadn’t been made aware of.

But the moment you spot the Doctor slinking through doors and up the stairs towards Silco’s office, your heart drops in your chest.

He’s supposed to be at a meeting right now with Sevika, across town.

Or will it have finished by now? Would he have had time to walk all the way back to The Drop?

Fuck, what if something happened during the meeting?

Desperately trying to keep the panic at bay, you slip through the crowd and up the stairs, all the while hoping you’ll find your boyfriend in his office as normal, pacing in front of the window like he usually does when there’s been a hitch in the plans.

But when you reach the doors, you find two more burly guards blocking the entrance.

You suck in a breath of air and take measured steps down the corridor until you’re standing in front of them.

“Hey guys, I need to talk to Silco,” you say as calmly as possible, pointing to the door behind them.

“Sorry, can’t let you in,” one of them says, barely even sparing you a glance.

You frown.

“Why? What’s happened?” you ask, trying to hide the wobble in your voice. Then, at the risk of sounding too involved, “Is he okay?”

“There’s been an incident,” the other grunts.

You hold in the urge to scream and respond as courteously as you can given the situation.

“Yes, I gathered that, but it’s really important that I talk to him.”

The guards barely look at you, as if you’re just a fly buzzing in front of them.

“Sorry. Protocol.”

Your fists clench at your sides.

He’s your partner, for Janna’s sake!

For all you know, something terrible could’ve happened and these two chumps are treating you like you’re the maid! As a matter of fact, you’re pretty sure you rank higher than these two in the pecking order anyway.

You put on your meanest face and glare up at them, channelling all your Eye of Zaun energy.

“Look, I don’t give a rat’s arse about protocol, I need to see him right-”

Even just the mention of protocol reminds you of Jinx, who you’d completely forgotten about in all the hubbub.

Your mouth drops open and you spin on your heel mid-sentence, racing down the corridor to her bedroom. Footsteps land heavily on the floor until you’re bursting through into her room the instant your fingers grasp the handle.

Jinx is completely fine, albeit a little startled at your dramatic entrance, sitting up in bed where you’d left her. You almost collapse in relief.

“You were gone for ages!” she complains with a huff, until her eyes land on your empty hands and her face screws up, whining, “Hey, where’s my hot choccy milk?”

You rush to her side, gently soothing back the sweaty hair from her forehead with your hand.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin, I forgot,” you attempt to placate her. “I’ll make one for you in a little bit.”

Her annoyance fades and you just see the worry overtake her expression as she examines you, eerily similar to her father.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.”

She isn’t buying it.

“Yeah there is,” Jinx scowls, even crossing her arms against her chest to show you she really means business. “Don’t lie to me, I’m not a little kid anymore.”

You sigh. What the hell are you meant to tell her? You don’t even know what’s going on.

“There’s just been… a little bit of an incident, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re safe here,” you try to say reassuringly.

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s just trying to sort everything out,” you reply. “I’m sure he won’t be long.”

Gods, you hope that’s the case.

Honestly, you feel awful lying to her, but you have no idea what’s happening yourself. So right now, you both need to stay as calm as possible.

You sit with her for however long, keeping both Jinx and yourself distracted with a game while you internally battle with yourself to stop the worry from overtaking you.

It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like it’s been hours when the door finally opens and Sevika enters, automatically throwing a grimace towards Jinx.

Of course, Jinx isn’t Sevika’s greatest friend on the best of days, but now that she’s sick, it’s entirely worse. She throws the covers over her head and groans in retaliation.

“Boss wants to see you,” Sevika announces, looking directly at you, thankfully ignoring Jinx’s outburst.

Hope flutters in your chest for a split second. If he wants to see you, that means he’s awake and more than likely talking.

But you can’t really ask the six million questions that are running through your brain with Jinx here listening. And you also can’t really leave her with Sevika, unless you want the entire room to be destroyed.

“Can you fetch Ran for me?” you ask, begging the woman with your eyes whilst keeping your tone neutral. “I can’t leave Jinx on her own.”

Sevika sneers, clearly annoyed.

Then, you watch as she considers Jinx (still hiding under the covers), and probably considers being the one to watch over her for the foreseeable.

Without another word, she promptly turns on her heel and walks out the room.

The whole time you’re waiting for her return, Jinx pesters you to let her see her Dad, but you make her promise that she’ll stay in bed until he gives the okay.

Luckily, Sevika is back within minutes, Ran in tow, who silently reclines in the furthest chair from her bed. You explain to Jinx that you’ll be back soon, and encourage her to tell Ran about all her new invention ideas.

And the very moment you’ve shut the door to her bedroom, Sevika pauses outside, presumably to update you on the situation.

But your anxiety immediately gets the better of you and you sprint down the hall like a madman, too nervous to even wait a few seconds.

Vaguely, you hear Sevika mutter, “Don’t know why I fucking bother,” as you speed away, but you’ll have to apologise to her later.

You need to see him now.

When you arrive at Silco’s office, the guards move to the side in preparation, although they do manage to look the tiniest bit alarmed when you burst through the doors yelling, “I just really love paperwork!” and kick the door shut behind you.

Hopefully that’ll quench any suspicions they might have.

Silco is clearly not in his office, so the next port of call is his bedroom, of which you slam the door open and tumble into the room, hanging onto the door knob for dear life when the motion threatens to send you sprawling across the floor.

From his bed where he’s laid out, Silco’s eyes widen in bewilderment, jolting back against the pillows his head is propped up on.

Your fingers grip the door handle while your eyes fill with tears, gasping at the sight of him.

It’s hard not to miss the stained bandage around his thigh, missing waistcoat, and filthy, rumpled clothes. And the fact that he’s much paler than usual.

You feel sick.

“Sil…”

“I’m fine, darling,” he attempts to mollify you, shifting about as he tries to sit up.

“No, no, don’t move,” you choke out.

You rush over to him, uncaring of the way your knees crack against the ground when you heavily drop beside his bed.

“What-” you swallow the knot in your throat, shakily willing the tears away. “What happened?”

A hand reaches out to comfort him, but you hesitate, hovering above his arm.

The last thing you want to do is accidentally hurt him.

Silco grasps your hand with his, firmly intertwining your fingers together. But you beat him to it, bringing his hand to your mouth to gently kiss his knuckles.

“An individual attacked us on our way back to the club,” he explains, two-toned eyes focused on where your mouth rests on the skin of his hand.

You look up at him, brow furrowed.

“An individual? Did you see what they looked like?”

“No, they were masked and escaped before Sevika or I could apprehend them,” he replies, voice clearly tired and groggy.

You want to ask why the hell they were alone without any guards, but you know he’ll just get huffy about it. Something about being able to look after himself.

Your hand runs over your face as you sigh.

“Do you think it was one of the gangs?”

That’d be the most obvious set of culprits.

“It could be, or it could be a lone fanatic who disagrees with my policies,” Silco replies. “We will conduct a thorough investigation and in the meantime security measures will be tripled, you and Jinx included.”

“What did the Doctor say?”

“The usual,” he says, avoiding eye contact as his gaze trails to your clasped hands once more. If there’s one thing that Silco hates, it’s talking about his own health and wellbeing. “The Shimmer injections should speed things along.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before cutting in with a question of his own.

“How is Jinx?”

“She’s fine, worried about you,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in comfort.

Suddenly, your eyes meet his, filling with tears once more as your mind begins to spiral.

What if-

You cut off that train of thought immediately, letting go of his hand and leaning forward to lightly rest your forehead against his side.

“Oh, Sil,” you mumble shakily into the creased fabric of his shirt.

“Come here, darling,” he says, gently pushing you to sit back up.

You look up to see him patting the space beside him, the side you usually sleep on.

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” you protest weakly.

“You won’t,” he says with resolve.

You only hesitate for a moment longer before standing up and making your way around the bed, gingerly climbing onto your side.

Silco quickly reaches for you and pulls you over to him, laying your head against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You’re careful not to lean on him too heavily.

And gods dammit, as you lie there cocooned in his arms, those tears slowly and silently leak out against your will, soaking into his burgundy shirt.

“I was so worried,” you begin, hoping he can’t detect the wobble in your voice. “I… I thought…”

“Shh, my love,” he hums into your hair. “I’m here now.”

You allow yourself to relax in his presence, beyond thankful that he’s here and he’s alive, even if he’s injured.

You’ll take care of him every single day until he’s better. And even after that too. For as long as he wants you.

But as much as you want to stay in his arms right now, reassuring yourself with each inhale and exhale of breath that levers your head on his chest, you have to get up.

“Where are you going?” Silco protests when his arms slip away from you.

“I need to check on Jinx,” you explain, reluctantly climbing off the bed with a sniff. “Plus, it might look a bit suspicious if I spend too long in here. Might start a few rumours.”

Silco frowns when you stand at the foot of the bed and straighten your clothes, scrubbing a hand over your face to wipe away the tears.

“Bring Jinx here, then you can stay as long as you like,” he says, almost with a pout.

You try not to smile at the way he sounds like a little boy trying to get out of bedtime

“She’s still in bed,” you explain. “Plus, she’ll get upset if she sees that you’re hurt. I’ll send Sevika back in to watch over you.”

Silco doesn’t look convinced, so you wander over to his side again.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back later,” you say, kissing his forehead tenderly.

He catches your hand before you can leave, smirking a little.

“Why can’t you tell everyone you’re my nurse?” he asks, that mischief still lurking despite the exhaustion. “Then you could spend the night here, no questions asked.”

You tug your hand out of his grasp, glaring down at him in faux annoyance.

“If you weren’t already injured, I would actually smack you right now,” you threaten.

“Sounds lovely,” he grins, reaching for your hand until you dance out of his reach with a yelp.

You begin to walk towards the door.

“Stay in bed, you menace. And don’t do anything I would do!” you call out over your shoulder as you leave, exiting the room before you do anything stupid (like offering to give him a sponge bath just because you want to take his shirt off).

And as you go, you pray to Janna that this period of recovery with Silco’s injury is not going to be a trial. The last thing you need right now is any more stress.

The period of recovery is a trial.

But did you honestly expect anything less with Silco as your patient?

Luckily, his leg begins to heal fairly quickly, no doubt thanks to the Shimmer injections. But it still takes a bit of time until he can get back to work as normal.

After checking up on Jinx, you find out from Sevika that the Doctor had actually ordered bed rest until he gives the okay. Which is a relief at first because it means that you can bully Silco into properly resting for once in his life.

Except, that means you have to take over the brunt of the meetings and paperwork.

Between the worry about both Jinx and Silco’s recoveries, and having to carry most of the business, you think you’re losing your mind.

You continue to take care of Jinx, as well as Silco, who are both the whiniest, most demanding two people you’ve ever met when they’re sick.

Jinx hates that she can’t visit Silco in case she gives him an infection and bugs you constantly about going to see him. And Silco borderline whines every time you stop him from getting out of bed to ‘just smoke one cigar and fill in one shipping manifest at his desk’.

Yeah, no.

More often than not, you’re running between the two of them, perpetually washing your hands and making sure your mask is secure on your face.

Sometimes you’ll briefly stop on the way to inhale a snack. Sometimes you’ll shove your face under the sink taps and get both a drink and a wash at the same time. Other times you try not to scream into the nearest pillow or cushion in fear of accidentally losing your voice.

This time, you’ve just finished putting Jinx to bed (a battle far more ferocious than probably any battle in history, ever), and you’re now on your way to check on Silco, ready for his new evening routine.

Check stitches. Clean wound. Re-bandage. Give medicine. Give food. Check he’s actually taken medicine. Give drink. Find a new book for him to read because he’s bored, darling.

But instead of finding him laying in bed, plucking his comb like it’s a musical instrument, he’s standing up (barely) and clutching to the dresser.

You watch incredulously as he attempts to tug his trousers over his injured leg, sweating, pale, and clearly out of breath.

“Are you serious right now?”

He looks up, lips pulling into the tiniest smile at the sight of you.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greets warmly, before going back to the task at hand.

You think your head is going to explode.

“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly.

The tray of his food and meds are placed on the bedside table, while Silco continues to wrestle with his trousers. Frankly, he looks ridiculous, pyjama top still on, trousers halfway up one leg as the other gets stuck on his ankle over and over again.

“I have a meeting,” he informs you, as if that’s an explanation.

You look up to the ceiling like you’ll find a piece of your sanity on it. There’s definitely no meetings scheduled in the diary.

Dear gods, if he’s got a fever now and is hallucinating, you think you might just evaporate.

“What meeting?”

Silco decides not to give you any details and instead just calmly states,

“It is very important. I must attend.”

Then, he carries on trying to get dressed like he wasn’t stabbed in the leg only a week earlier.

You can almost visualise the stress levels rising in your body; the jug about to overflow and spill out of you.

What you should probably do right now is carefully help him back into bed and fetch Sevika so you can all decide on the best solution to this dilemma.

But you’re human, so you let your emotions get the better of you instead.

“No.”

Silco has the gall to look surprised.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, genuinely shocked at your directness.

“I said no, now get back in bed,” you say, moving over to him to help him take off those stupid trousers and put his pyjamas back on.

He must not understand how serious you are right now because he continues to gently protest.

“Darling, I appreciate-”

“Silco,” you cut him off, tears filling your eyes as you arrive in front of him, looking him dead in the eye. Your voice is shockingly quiet and precise. “I need you to get back in bed or I think I am actually, seriously going to lose it.”

He looks startled, shuffling forward to comfort you.

“Sweetheart-”

“Please, Silco,” you cut him off, your voice cracking with the words.

Silco appraises you for a moment, watching your tense body and distraught face.

Finally, he speaks.

“Alright,” he concedes quietly, mismatched eyes full of concern.

He manages to step out of his trousers and you help him hobble back over to the bed, pulling up the covers so he can get under the sheets.

And once he’s comfortably sat up against the headboard, he opens his mouth to speak again, eyes watching you carefully the whole time.

You don’t let him.

You lean forward, kiss his cheek, and then step away.

“Please eat this,” you say, nodding to the tray on his bedside table. “I’m going to check on Jinx and then I will be back to change your bandage.”

Your footsteps out the room are measured and by the time he calls your name, asking you to wait, you’re already out the door. But you can’t stop walking because if you do, you’ll burst into tears…

Which is exactly what happens after you check on Jinx.

You’re just on your way back to Silco’s bedroom when one of the employees stops you in the corridor to say that a warehouse has been raided, meaning a bunch of stock has been stolen.

You politely thank her for letting you know, ask her to inform Sevika, take a sharp turn into your bedroom, and break down sobbing.

Truthfully, you’re not sure how long you spend kneeling on the floor next to your bed, face down as you cry into the sheets.

But it must be long enough because the door opens and a set of limping footsteps shuffle towards you.

He sits down on the bed and gently - soothingly - runs his fingers through your hair.

There’s a sharp intake of breath between each word, but you somehow manage to heave out, “You… should… be… in… bed,” sobbing the last word until it’s completely unintelligible.

“I know, my love, I know,” Silco consoles you.

He delicately encourages you to get up and get into bed, following you under the covers despite there barely being enough room for the both of you.

Once he’s reassured you that you’re not hurting his leg, you let him hold you in his arms, rubbing your back until you stop crying.

You have a killer headache. And a big part of you feels bad for letting him comfort you when it should be the other way round.

“Do you know why I gave you this bedroom when I first asked you to work and live here?” he eventually mumbles into your hair.

You sniffle. “No, why?”

“It’s the only one with a single bed.”

Slowly, you pull back to look at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t invite anyone over,” he explains nonchalantly, like any sane person would invite you to live with them and give you the tiniest bed ever, just because he was jealous of even the thought of you having a partner.

You huff a laugh and his lips quirk into a smile in response.

“There was never anyone to invite over,” you say. “Plus, it doesn’t really make sense to invite someone over when they already live with you.”

Silco watches you affectionately. He cups your cheeks and leans forward to capture your lips in the slowest, most tender kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed and you whisper against him, “You’re injured.”

“My lips are perfectly fine,” he mumbles back.

You gently whack him on the arm.

“Silly boy.”

He smirks (the one that still gives you butterflies) and steals another kiss before cuddling up to you again.

“Thank you for looking after everything for me,” he says over your shoulder. “In truth, I am not quite sure what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know how you do it all, I feel like one of those stretchy dolls being pulled in every direction until they snap,” you snort, scrubbing a hand over your face.

“You’re doing wonderfully, my sweetheart. I am continually astounded by your unwavering strength and compassion,” Silco tells you.

Then, he blows an amused breath of air out of his nose, like he can’t quite believe whatever he’s thinking. “It’s no wonder I-”

He pauses, whole body suddenly tense in your arms.

You wait patiently for him to continue, squeezing him a little bit tighter in reassurance.

“Hmm?”

Silco eventually lets out a shaky exhale, simultaneously relaxing into your touch, almost like he’s melting into your warmth.

“I know that you will be just fine. We will be just fine,” he says.

You hum again, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep with each looping circle traced on your skin.

Deep down, you know you’ll have to go fetch him some water and his first aid supplies when you wake. You’ll sit in your armchair beside your own bed until he wakes up from some much needed rest.

But he’s worth it. He’s worth the crick in your neck, and the reduced hours of sleep, and the overwhelming stress.

He’s worth it all.

Because you love him.

a/n: did anyone else play the folded paper drawing game or was it just me??

edit: i just googled it and the game is called Exquisite Corpse 😭

edit edit: so i’m currently trying to plot out the rest of this story so there’ll hopefully be fewer breaks between chapters (it was only meant to be a one-shot lmao), wish me luck my lieges 🙏 if you’re still reading this daft story after all this time, ily. if you’re new, welcome ily

#silco #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco x you #silco fic #silco arcane #part 8

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swan-of-sunrise · 2 months

Text

Hawkeye (Part III)

Summary: On Christmas Eve, (Y/N) and Steve receive some shocking updates from Clint and after the archers’ fight against Kingpin, the Tracksuits and a Black Widow assassin out for blood at Rockefeller Center, the exhausted duo accepts their hospitality.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! I'm feeling a bit better now, so I've returned with a longer chapter filled with holiday fluffiness! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part III) December 24th, 2024 Holy Cross Cemetery, Brooklyn (Previous Chapter)

“I still can’t believe that people really used to decorate their Christmas trees – their very dead, very dried-out Christmas trees – with lit candles.” (Y/N) shook her head in amazement as they slowly walked past the crumbling gravestones and carefully avoided the piles of snow resting atop the frozen grass on the way down the slope to their parked car. “I mean, weren’t they afraid that they’d accidentally burn their houses down in exchange for a little holiday cheer?”

Steve nonchalantly shrugged and hitched Carina higher up on his waist. “Arsenic was in practically everything, cocaine was prescribed by doctors as medicine, and people guzzled down pure wood alcohol throughout the entirety of Prohibition; trust me, candles on Christmas trees were the least of our worries. Our tree caught fire once when I was ten or eleven and after Ma put it out, she scraped together enough money to buy a secondhand strand of lights and we never put candles on our tree again.” After taking note of her stunned silence, a mischievous smile broke out across Steve’s face. “If you think that sounds crazy, then you probably don’t wanna know why we had to stop putting strings of popcorn and cranberries on the tree…”

“And you’d be absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent correct, sweetheart.”

The morning of Christmas Eve saw the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family visiting the graves of Sarah and Joseph Rogers at Holy Cross Cemetery, Brooklyn’s sole Catholic cemetery; they’d brushed clumps of snow and wayward leaves off the two weathered gravestones, laid bouquets of red and white poinsettias and recounted stories of Christmases past in a continuation of Steve and Sarah’s old yuletide tradition. Typically, Steve never cried or showed much outward emotion whenever they’d visited his mother and father’s gravesite, but that morning he couldn’t seem to keep the happy grin off his face as he held his infant daughter in his arms and explained to his parents that they would soon be giving them a second grandchild. Seeing her husband so happy about having another child and being able to experience the entire pregnancy alongside her always succeeded in causing her heart to warm in her chest, but there was something special about watching him tell his parents about the life that so many people believed – including himself – he’d never be able to live. It’s also given me several ideas of what to do with him after we put Cari down for her nap, she thought with a sultry inward smile, ideas that are a little too risqué to voice in the middle of a Catholic cemetery.

(Y/N) was in the middle of strapping a squirming Carina into her car seat when her cell phone rang. “Sweetheart, could you get that for me?”

“Of course.” He jogged around the car and climbed into the passenger’s seat, grabbing her phone out of her purse and humming in interest when he noticed the name on the screen. “It’s Clint.”

Glancing up from the buckle, (Y/N) shot her husband a knowing look and slowly replied, “That can’t be good…”

Steve nodded in agreement before swiping a thumb across the screen and putting the call on speakerphone. “Hey, Clint; (Y/N)’s hands are a little busy, so I’ve got you on speakerphone. What’s up?”

“Are you guys home right now?”

“We spent the morning laying flowers at Steve’s parents’ graves, and we’re just about ready to head home,” (Y/N) explained, a knot of apprehension beginning to fill the pit of her stomach as she detected the uncharacteristic unease in the archer’s voice. “Why do you ask?”

“We got it wrong, (Y/L/N); it was Eleanor Bishop the whole time. Kate’s mom killed Armand, framed Jack for the murder and forged his connection to Sloan Limited. She’s been working for Kingpin for well over a decade, and Kate only just found out.”

(Y/N), who’d just given Carina her pacifier and a kiss on her forehead, sat back and watched her daughter for a moment before sighing to herself, imagining the overwhelming anger, confusion and hurt that the twenty-two-year-old must’ve felt in reaction to the devastating news. “Poor Kate…how’s she holding up?”

“Better than I thought she would,” Clint replied, and there was a hint of pride in his words as he continued. “Eleanor’s turned on Kingpin and he’s gonna send a message to the city by attacking her company’s Christmas Eve gala, so Kate’s focusing on prepping for tonight’s fight. Those LARPers I told you about are giving us a hand, since most of ‘em are first responders when they’re not dressed up in costumes and pretend-fighting each other with fake weapons, and we’re gonna build as many trick arrows as we’ll need to take out an army of Tracksuits.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve’s hand twitch towards the glove box, where they both agreed to stash several weapons in the event that they were ever attacked by any new or former enemies. “Something else is wrong, isn’t it? Did Kingpin find out about-?”

“-No, no, it’s not that. Eleanor hired a Black Widow assassin to kill me; we had a scuffle last night but they retreated before they could finish their assignment. I just learned this morning that the assassin…it’s Yelena.” (Y/N) and Steve’s gazes met and their eyes widened in identical shock. “And this isn’t just an assignment for her. She’s here to avenge Nat’s death by taking out the one person she thinks is responsible.”

“…Clint, you aren’t responsible for the choices that Nat made. You know that, right?”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the call. “I know, Steve. But chances are she’s gonna show up tonight to complete her assignment, so I wanted to give you a heads-up in case she decides to go after you guys next.”

(Y/N) frowned. “You don’t really think that Yelena would-?”

“Nat told her about you, about how you were one of her best friends; if she’s targeting me, then there’s a chance she’ll target you, too. Just be ready for anything, okay? Booby trap the house Home Alone style if you have to, but don’t let your guards down.” The archer cleared his throat. “I’ve lost enough people in my life, and I don’t wanna lose any more of ‘em. You two read me?”

Although Clint couldn’t see them, a stoic-looking Steve nodded once. “Loud and clear. Good luck out there tonight, Clint.”

“And watch each other’s backs,” (Y/N) added, the barest hint of a smile beginning to play on her lips at the thought of the Tracksuits attempting to take on two skilled archers armed with the deadliest and most imaginative arrows in the world. “I’ve only heard stories from Nat about your plethora of trick arrows, so I look forward to seeing their aftermath on tonight’s newscast…but for Scott’s sake, maybe try and avoid using any Pym Particles.”

The archer chuckled. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want Hank to blow another fuse. I’ll be sure to call you guys after the firefight, okay?”

They bid one another goodbye and after Steve ended the call, he looked up at (Y/N) with a glint of determination in his azure eyes. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) backed out of the car’s backseat and closed the door before slipping into the driver’s seat and sighing. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Brienne,” They both recited at the same time.

Brienne, named for the popular character from Game of Thrones, was an A.I. home defense system that Tony bequeathed to them after his death; according to Pepper, he created it shortly after their engagement announcement as a wedding present but after the Accords and what happened in Siberia, he stowed it away in his archives. It was a thoughtful gift that provided them both with a sense of security, but the A.I. – similar to J.A.R.V.I.S. and E.D.I.T.H. – came with not only a distinct voice, but a distinct and booming yell that was triggered by any movement around the perimeter of their home. The one and only time they’d activated Brienne was when they resided in Maine, and the A.I.’s defensive techniques frightened a passing black bear so badly that it scurried up a pine tree and stayed there for hours. But while (Y/N) was still unconvinced that Yelena Belova would target her in revenge for her sister’s death, she was wary of Kingpin and his considerable forces uncovering her family’s involvement in Clint’s latest mission. I suppose that the annoying A.I. is better than nothing, (Y/N) thought to herself as she switched on the ignition and her husband’s hand moved to rest on her knee, the warmth of his touch working to comfort her as they both silently contemplated their friend’s imminent fight against Kingpin, the Tracksuits and a vengeful Black Widow.

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

“-considerable damage to Rockefeller Center, namely its ice public skating rink and the world-famous Christmas tree. But thanks to the bravery and heroism of Avenger Clint Barton, JOAD Olympian Achievement Award recipient Kate Bishop and a group of off-duty first responders, several dozen members of the organized crime syndicate called the Tracksuit Mafia were apprehended by the NYPD and no injuries were reported by any of the gala’s attendees. Additionally, Eleanor Bishop, CEO of Bishop Security and mother of Kate Bishop, was arrested for the murder of Armand Duquesne the Third, and notorious businessman and crime lord Wilson Fisk was rushed to the Rockefeller University Hospital with life-threatening injuries. After the break, we’ll talk with an eyewitness who claims to have spotted the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man swinging near the scene-”

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose.” (Y/N) remarked with a content sigh, reaching for the remote on the empty couch cushion beside her and switching the channel, settling on a broadcast of A Charlie Brown Christmas before continuing. “I just wish that Kate didn’t have to go through the pain of losing her mother on Christmas Eve.”

Steve, who was sitting behind her and gently massaging circles across her baby bump, pressed a comforting kiss onto her shoulder and rested his cheek on the top of her head as she nuzzled closer to him. “Eleanor chose Kingpin over her own daughter, and now she’s gotta answer for that choice. But Kate’s strong, and if she had the strength to throw herself into danger to do the right thing, then she’ll have the strength to recover from this.”

Something in Steve’s tone of voice made (Y/N) crane her neck to meet his gaze. When she saw the conflicted emotions written across his face and the faraway look in his azure eyes as he watched the cartoon playing on television screen before them, she moved her arm back and softly brushed her fingers through his cropped blonde hair to coax him into looking at her; he blinked and after his eyes finally met hers, she smiled but continued to twirl her fingers around the longer strands of his hair. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Her husband remained silent for a long moment, only answering after (Y/N)’s free hand moved to rest atop one of the hands that was cradling her bump. “Christmas Eve, 2017. Wanda was off visiting Vision and I was alone in a run-down hotel room in Tunis, just waiting for Sam and Nat to come back from a meeting with one of her contacts. While I waited, I was watching this special dubbed in Arabic. I remember sitting there in that room just wishing with everything I had that I could’ve been here with you, and sometimes…sometimes, I try to imagine how different things would’ve been for us if I’d ignored the risks and the mission and come home for Christmas.”

(Y/N)’s smile faltered a little as she realized what he was tentatively referring to; late into December of 2017 was when she’d discovered that she was three months pregnant, and Steve wouldn’t find out about his daughter’s existence until the summer of 2018, when the Black Order invaded and they fought in the Battle of Wakanda. Steve met his daughter that day, only to tragically lose her several hours later in the Snap, and he’d suffered with the grief of her sudden loss alongside (Y/N) for five long years until Bruce’s Snap brought all the Vanished back. “Steve…”

“I know, sunshine, I try not to but I can’t help it-”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” (Y/N) gently reassured him and when Steve took a shaky breath, she cupped his cheek and traced the smile lines around his eye with the feather-light pad of her thumb. “You know that I don’t blame you for not being there, and you know that I’ll never judge you for wondering how different things might’ve been if you were.” Her hand repositioned his to cradle the top of her bump where the baby was currently shifting about, and she couldn’t help but smile at the tender look in her husband’s azure eyes when he felt their unborn child’s faint movements. “But can you feel that? The universe gave us a second chance, Steve; the important thing is that you’re here now, being a fantastic father to Carina and doing everything a loving, loyal husband is supposed to do for his pregnant wife, and every single day, I wake up and I thank the universe for giving us this second chance.”

The worry line between his brows smoothed out as his expression relaxed and he moved one of his hands to rest on the side of her neck, softly stroking her jawline with his thumb before asking, “Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Twice, but I could always use another reminder.”

Steve’s lips quirked upwards in amusement at her words. “I love you, baby, with everything I am and more.”

(Y/N) smiled happily up at him. “And I love you too, sweetheart.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she pulled Steve’s face down and he bent around her to capture her lips in a languid yet passionate kiss.

“Lucky, do you really have to go and invade Indy’s personal space like that? I mean, c’mon, you literally just met the guy and you’re already sniffing his business! Boundaries, dude, c’mon.”

Pulling apart, (Y/N) leaned her forehead against Steve’s and let out a breathless chuckle. “I suppose we should be good hosts and check in with our guests. We’ll continue this later, Mr. Rogers.”

Eyes darkening with desire, Steve smirked and lowered his voice before replying, “I look forward to it, Professor (Y/L/N).”

They both stood up from the couch, with (Y/N) doing her best to mask just how much her husband’s use of her title had affected her and with Steve biting back the knowing smile that threatened to break out across his face, and held each other’s hand while they left the living room and strolled into the dining room; Kate Bishop, sporting fresh facial wounds and damp hair from her quick shower, was finishing up her bowl of Kraft Mac & Cheese at the table and giggling to herself while her Golden Retriever and their German Shepard lounged together on the floor by the food and water bowl. The young archer appeared to be in good spirits, despite her near deadly fight with Kingpin himself and aiding the police in arresting her mother for murder, but (Y/N) knew all too well that her cheerful mood would steadily dissipate once the post-battle adrenaline wore off and the reality of her situation set in.

“Did you want some more mac and cheese, Kate, or anything else to drink?”

Glancing up and over at them, Kate adamantly shook her head and flashed them a bright smile. “I’m good, but thank you so much for the offer! Seriously, you guys have already done so much for me and Lucky; you made us a midnight snack, I got a post-battle shower and a fresh change of clothes, and I even got some Grade-A first aid.” The young archer beamed as she gestured to the bandage that stretched across the bridge of her nose. “I mean, who knew that Steve Rogers was good at first aid? I certainly didn’t! You must’ve learned during the war, right?”

“My mother, actually,” Steve corrected, tucking his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and giving a surprised Kate an offhand shrug. “I picked a lot of fights with bullies when I was growing up and she was the one who patched me up after each loss.”

“And that never stopped you from confronting the bullies…” Kate looked between them both and shook her head in amazement. “I’m beginning to see why you two get along so well. I, um, I also just want you guys to know that I’m not gonna tell anyone about all this.” Her dark brown eyes met (Y/N)’s, her gaze filled with understanding and an earnest respect. “You were right when you said that there’s things you’ll lose living the life of a superhero; a couple of hours ago, I helped the cops arrest my mom for murder and now I officially have no family. I can’t even imagine the sort of things you two’ve lost along the way, but what you’ve got now? I sure as hell won’t be the one to take this away from you.”

(Y/N) gave the young archer a thankful smile. “We trust you, Kate. And since you’re now privy to some top-secret Avengers intel, I should probably share with you one of the most important lessons I’ve learned as a superhero.” Kate’s brow rose in interest and (Y/N) nodded towards the cluster of framed photographs that were hung above the dining room’s antique sideboard; there was one that showed (Y/N), Steve, Sam and Nat hanging out at a bar, another with (Y/N) and Steve posing next to Tony and Pepper at their engagement party, and one that was taken of the Avengers as they dined on Chinese food takeout and planned their time heist. The last picture was of Sam and Bucky with the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family on the day they broke the news of her second pregnancy to their best friends; Sam was holding Carina on his hip and Bucky tickled her sides to get her to smile for the camera while Steve’s arm was slung around the super-soldier’s shoulders, his other arm wrapped around (Y/N)’s waist and his hand joining hers in cradling her barely-there baby bump. “A family doesn’t always have to be the one you’re born into. Sometimes, it’s something you get to create for yourself.” Kate’s eyes started to prickle with unshed tears, and she immediately began to blink them away and mask her emotional response with a bright smile, which only made (Y/N)’s sympathy for the upset twenty-two-year-old grow. “This little gumball feels a little restless, so I’m gonna make some hot coca. I’d be more than happy to make enough for everyone…”

Steve, instantly catching on to her line of thinking, lifted their joined hands up and gave her knuckles an exaggerated kiss while subtly winking for just her to see. “Mmm, you know how much I love your famous hot coca, sunshine. You use real milk and imported Belgian chocolate, don’t you?”

“Of course, that’s how it becomes so rich and creamy. I even sprinkle a pinch of gingerbread over the whipped cream to give it that seasonal flair.”

“Gosh, I’d just hate for anyone to miss out on the experience of enjoying such a special beverage…”

Watching their staged exchange with a growing smirk, Kate burst into laughter and raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get the hint! I’d love some of your famous hot coca, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) beamed in triumph, giving Steve a chaste kiss on the cheek before releasing his hand and striding into the kitchen; as she assembled her ingredients and put the saucepan of milk on the stove to boil, she listened in on Kate and Steve’s conversation about archery, smiling to herself as she imagined her husband comforting their own children in a similar manner. Steve often doubted himself as a father, a habit he’d once confessed partially stemmed from never having known his own father, but (Y/N) never once doubted that the man who was patiently listening to an impassioned rant about the possibilities of various trick arrows in combat situations and even injecting his own opinions for Kate’s benefit was meant to be a father.

“Oooo, (Y/L/N)’s famous hot coca!” (Y/N), who was mixing the chocolate into the simmering milk, glanced over to see Clint enter the kitchen; the archer was toweling his hair dry, mindful of the steri-strips and bruises that littered his face, and the sight of his fluffed-up hair and eager grin forced her to stifle her chuckles. “Need any help with that?”

“Not with this, but could you grab some mugs from the cabinet for me?” He did as she asked, setting four mugs down onto the counter and nodding when she murmured her thanks. Seeing that he was preoccupied with examining the ‘America’s Ass’ mug that Scott sent Steve for his birthday, she took the opportunity to inspect his many visible wounds and winced in sympathy. “I’m looking at Yelena’s handiwork, aren’t I?”

Clint huffed out a humorless chuckle and nodded. “Yep. Not my first time having my ass kicked by a Black Widow, but I don’t remember it hurting as much as it does now.” He sobered when he caught sight of her concerned frown, slinging the towel he’d been using over his shoulder and giving hers a reassuring pat. “I got through to her in the end, and that’s all that matters. And for what it’s worth, she only really seemed pissed at me, so it’s safe to say that you and Steve are in the clear.”

Switching the burner off, (Y/N) took the saucepan off the stove and carefully began pouring the liquid into each mug. “I know that she just tried to kill you a couple of hours ago, but I still can’t help but hope that I’ll get the chance to meet Yelena someday. I spoke with Alexei and Melina over FaceTime after the Battle of Earth and I helped them arrange for Nat’s plot in Ohio…”

“But you haven’t been able to pass along the holographic puck she recorded Yelena’s message on,” Clint finished and pursed his lips in contemplation. “You told Alexei and Melina about the puck, right?” (Y/N) nodded as she reached into the refrigerator for a can of whipped cream. “It’s safe to say that before tonight, Yelena wasn’t ready to accept that Nat’s gone, but now? It’s possible that she’ll be ready for some closure, so don’t be surprised when you open your door to see her standing on your porch one day.”

While she added a sizable swirl of whipped cream to each mug of hot coca and finished them off with a sprinkle of gingerbread, (Y/N) smiled to herself and snuck a brief glance at Clint. “You know, Nat told me once that she counted herself lucky to have the three best siblings in the world; I’ll never forget just how happy that made me, because that was around the time I finally decided to go no contact with my family. She was my sister, in every sense of the word.”

“I know how you feel; back before Laura and the kids, Nat was the only family I had.” The archer’s voice cracked but he managed to muster up a reassuring smile for her. “I know that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me and that that’s something I’m gonna have to live with…” He peered out into the nearby dining room and watched Kate enthusiastically mime firing trick arrows as she talked to Steve, his smile softening and his blue-grey eyes filling with parental pride. “But I think that she’d be proud of what I accomplished with Kate.”

(Y/N) leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss onto Clint’s cheek before giving him a smile of understanding. “I think she would, too. Now c’mon, Hawkeye, let’s go deliver a little Christmas cheer and learn about all the possible applications of boomerang arrows before your guys’ ride to JFK gets here.”

Loading the mugs onto a tray, (Y/N) and Clint joined Steve and Kate at the dining room table, where they enjoyed their hot coca and engaged in a lively debate about the sort of trick arrows that the archers believed could work in a battle; (Y/N)’s hand absentmindedly rubbed across her bump as she watched Clint and Kate’s playful argument, her lips curving into an amused grin that only widened when she caught Steve’s azure eyes and he scooted his chair closer to hers so that he could drape an arm over her shoulders. Not quite how I pictured our little Rogers-(Y/L/N) Family Christmas going, she silently admitted to herself as she contently rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You still haven’t convinced me that boomerang arrows aren’t an excellent idea, Clint.” Kate stubbornly crossed her arms and turned to (Y/N) and Steve with an expectant look on her face. “Be honest, guys, doesn’t it sound like one of the best ideas you’ve ever heard?”

Ever the diplomat, Steve masked his chuckles with a contemplative hum and shrugged. “I’m not too sure how you’d be able to apply it, but it’s not a half-bad idea.”

Kate fist-pumped the air in triumph while an indignant Clint’s jaw dropped and he whipped his head around to stare at Steve. “Seriously, Rogers? You think it’s a good idea that an arrow should be able to fly back at you after you’ve fired it?”

“To be fair, he never said it was good,” (Y/N) pointed out. “What he said was that it wasn’t a half-bad idea.”

“Thank you, sunshine.” The archer rolled his eyes when Steve leaned over to plant a soft kiss onto her cheek and shot him a mischievous smirk. “All I know is that you could’ve taken out a helluva lot more Chitauri during the Battle of New York if your thirty-two arrows could’ve boomeranged back to you, Barton.”

Kate’s hand quickly moved to clamp over her mouth to muffle her laughter and (Y/N) masked hers with an unconvincing cough as Clint gasped in exaggerated outrage and made a rude hand gesture towards a chuckling Steve. “Damn, Clint, need some aloe for that burn?” Kate snickered and reached across the table to fist-bump Steve. “Thanks for the support, man!” The young archer leapt up from the table and hurried over to the duffel bag she’d deposited in the entryway. “And here, I’ve already thought of how I’d design the arrow!”

“Wait, Kate, you’re gonna trip the-”

“UNAUTHORIZED WEAPONRY DRAWN ON THE PREMISES, MY LORD AND LADY!”

Clint’s hand flew towards his hearing aid and Kate yelped in surprise, poking her head back into the dining room with a shell-shocked expression written across her face. “What the hell was that?!”

With a sigh, (Y/N) set her empty mug down onto her coaster and smiled despite herself. “Brienne.”

“Or as I like to call her, the posthumous revenge of Tony Stark,” Steve added, his own grin dimming a little as a wistful gleam filled his azure eyes. “Wherever he is, he’s gotta be laughing his ass off right now…”

“Language!” (Y/N), Clint and Kate’s exclamation broke the tension and even Steve couldn’t stop himself from laughing along with them.

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

A/N: Only one more chapter left, guys! (And don't worry, we'll soon find out who was watching (Y/N) in the last chapter) 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 IV)

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

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skyfallslayer · 1 year

Text

The Daughter of The (Dare)Devil - Story 9 (Part 3)

Series Masterlist

(Can be read as Y/N if you’d like)

Story Summary: Part 3 - Matt, Karen and Foggy scramble to find out who their “official” first client was in an attempt to find their missing teenager; Meanwhile, Kaila finally sees what her father sees in her darkest time in Hell’s Kitchen, making her question everything she believed in (Set shortly after 2x03).

Date: 4/5

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 13,243 (Super Long, Ya'll)

Warning: Possible OOC (?); Karedevil; The Murdocks Are Stubborn People; Talks of Child Neglect; Attempted Murder; Allusion To Murder; Brief Allusion To Rape; Major Blood; Self Blaming; Heavy Guilt; Non Consensual Touching; Heavy Angst; Heavy Language; Crying; Mental Break (Down (?); Karen and Foggy Are The MVPs Here Again (Frank & Brett Are Added To That List); Possible Identity Reveal (?); Kidnapping; Allusions To Mental Illness; Bullet Wound; Child Abuse; The Murdocks Could Use All The Hugs In The World; I'm Going To Hell By Putting The Adults/Kaila Through The Wringer; Fluffy Ending (?). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

- Let me know if I missed anything, please.

A/N: Yeah... still going to hell for this. But I swear their lives will get better maybe. Anyway, sorry for the wait, I had writer's block halfway. Hopefully this is to ya'll's expectations. As always, enjoy!

“Kaila.” He said, smiling. “Kaila… Jackie Murdock.”

“What a lovely name.”

“Kaila Murdock.” Fisk tests it out. “You’ve got a lot… history in a name like that.”

She said with a little smile. “I’m assuming you’re Matt’s daughter?”

“And when you have no tears left to shed, then…” He sends another glare that sends a shiver down her spine. “Then we’ll come for you, Miss Murdock.”

She opened her tired eyes slowly, her spinning world coming to an abrupt stop.

The teenager finds herself standing in a dark abyss, making her drugged induced self suddenly more aware of her surroundings. She finds herself looking around in a worried state of confusion. She saw and heard nothing in the void. It was just her in this room that didn’t seem like reality.

She tries to recall what happened last but is met with a splitting headache. She winces at the pain with her eyes growing shut, craning her neck down and gritting through her teeth.

Jesus. What… what happened? She fights herself to pry open those chocolate orbs with the blown out pupils, finding herself staring at her attire. She had on what looked like a blouse and a pencil skirt, something she didn’t even possibly remember owning.

She frowns as that sets in before she starts to notice something else different. The hair on her head felt lighter than ever, a sensation she doesn’t remember ever feeling. She wanted to touch her locks, but couldn’t. When she looked at the source that had bound her wrists together she couldn’t believe it. It was stringy and white, and sticky like glue. It was–

Spider webs? She brings her hands closer to examine, ignoring how the hairs over her body stood straight up.

“They’re all gone.”

She jolts in her stance, jerking her body around to behind. She swears she could see some kind of dust lingering in the open air, some even brushing by her like a taunt or a warning. Or…

Maybe it was both.

What in the hell…?

“What are you doing?” A familiar voice asked, sending her spinning on her heels again.

She shouldn’t be surprised but she is; Especially when her friend looks older than before. Jayden was taller, more defined in her arms, his hair a bit longer in the face. She blinks again, and tries to say his name only that she couldn’t. It felt like someone had jammed something into her throat.

He looked just as panicked as she was feeling, and took a step closer with his hands up defensively. “You know I can’t help you right now. That’s why I told you to wait until I felt better.”

She tilts her head, scanning him over again. None of this made any sense whatsoever, especially when she saw tiny little sparks of fire resting on his fingertips. All she could do was stare as he seemed unbothered by it.

He sighs. “I should know better by now. You Murdocks sure are stubborn.” He said that with a small smile. “But you need to get out of here. You’re needed out there tonight.”

What? What is he talking about? She tries to speak his name again. Nothing.

“Here, Kai.”

She felt him shove something into her suddenly freed hands, something that felt oddly like…

She gasps.

My dad’s helmet?

“Can’t forget that. You’ve been holding off for a while.” He said, a look of pride on his face as she shakes her head.

Jayden… what are you… what is he talking about? She felt him step closer, his face practically hovering above her.

“The devil of Hell’s Kitchen’s been gone long enough. These people need you. You got this.”

She looks at him before looking down at the helmet, looking polished and brand new. It didn’t look like it was shot through with a bullet. Her brows pushed together, perplexed.

This is my dad’s helmet, but… it… it doesn’t feel like it. She clenches the sides, a shiver running up her spine again.

What is going on–

“Ah, you’re awake. Good.” A slimy hand roughly grabs her chin, forcing her to open her eyes. “We can have a chat about how your father and his partner ruined my life.”

Her breath hitched itself in her throat as she stared at her capturer. His creepy stare seemed more intense than before.

“Come on, little devil, show me what you got.”

She awoke with a muffled scream. Out of instinct she tugged on her restraints, wiggling in her chair. The thick ropes dug into her skin, irritating it in a way she never felt before.

Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck is–

“So you’re finally awake.”

She froze again.

The man was sitting in a foldout chair, he had a pocket knife out that he was using to cut a bright red apple. Kaila watches him smile towards her before moving his seat in front of her, retaking his spot.

“Sorry if you feel cold. I had to use your shirt to clean up your head.”

Kaila pinches her brows together, looking down at herself. Her band shirt was gone, laying somewhere in this warehouse covered in blood, which left her just in a bra. Her cheeks flushed as she started to grow self conscious, but the man didn’t seem to either not mind or care about the state she was in (emotionally and physically).

“You bleed a lot. Which is good. Means you’re healthy, and I need you to stay healthy.” He continues, and cuts up a huge slice, letting it fall onto the plate in his lap.

“Hungry?” He asked, reaching over and pulling the gag off, watching her stare in discomfort. He stabs one of the slices of apple and holds it close to her mouth. She continues to stare, making him tilt his head. “I know it’s a little weird, but I can’t let you starve, you know? Come on.”

She felt her heart about to burst out of her chest. The sickening feeling was brewing in her gut. But there was something heedfully telling her to just play along. She opens her mouth, allowing him to slide the apple slice in. She carefully crushes it between her teeth, slowly chewing it.

“Good, right? Gala’s were always my favorite.” He boasted with a chuckle. “You got a favorite?”

She shakes her head leisurely at… what should she call him? Baldy? Yeah, Baldy would work. She shakes her head at Baldy.

“No? That’s surprising. I won’t take it personally if that’s what you’re worried about.”

No, not exactly. She thought, watching him eat a slice himself, and gaze around the room full of metal shipping containers (she was assuming they were at the port). Strange.

He’s acting paranoid, but he certainly doesn't look it.

Baldy seemed to catch her wary gaze in the dim lighting, and locked in. “This too weird?” He said, with a dry chuckle. “Don’t be shy. You can speak freely.” That spine chilling grin returns. “I don’t bite.”

You sure look like you do. She holds her tongue at the spicy words. She starts spinning the wheels in her head, trying to figure out what she can and cannot (or should not) say.

I’ve got to do this carefully.

“W-Who are you?” Kaila manages to say, which makes him straighten up in seat, expression fading away.

“Me?” He asked, voice low and cold. “I’m the brother of one of Nelson and Murdock’s clients they failed.”

She tilts her head, puzzled. “Failed?”

Baldy hums. “You got that right, sweetheart.”

She swallows, and starts feeling a sense of déjà vu from this. “You’re… you’re going to have to be more specific. My Father and Uncle can’t exactly… help everyone.”

“That’s true, but–” He sighs. “They could have helped him.”

She furrows her brows. “And… who’s your brother?”

“He was their first official client.”

First official client? Now she was even more confused.

He said he had a brother, right? And Karen was their first client who had a brother. She starts remembering the story the blonde told her after the whole Wesley thing.

Yeah… Kevin. Yeah, that’s right. But he’s dead. This doesn't make–

“Not clicking with you, sweetheart?” Baldy asked, interrupting her thoughts. “It’s probably hard keeping track of all your Father’s clients. And that’s okay, I didn’t expect you to know who I’m talking about.”

She gives him an odd look again. “Then…” She pauses. “Why am I here?”

He shrugs. “Ransom. Bait. My… personal punching bag.” He laughs at how pale she got. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything… too reckless. Unless, you give me any reason to do the opposite.” Another laugh. “It’s just the Boss’ orders.”

Boss? So this isn’t independent. He’s tied to someone. But who? All she could do was wonder as continues to lose color in her face.

“Awe, don’t be so scared. Besides, you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine as long as you behave. Mmm, okay?” He brushes some of her hair from her face. “But if you don't… I’ll have to listen to my Boss anyway. Trust me. You don’t want me to follow his instructions.”

She bites the inside of her cheek hard to keep herself from trembling at his words.

Oh, god… please let this be another dream.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Foggy dumped another box of files onto the table, tossing it aside before sitting down again.

“Okay.” He breathes, mentally preparing for another round. “There’s gotta be something in this one.”

He didn’t even acknowledge his two partners nodding before they all dug into it, their minds were all in overdrive trying to find something useful. Their bloodshots orbs scanned the pages, their small, worried panting brushed against the ink, turning the inky fragrance into coffee. And they were all dealing with the excess jittery energy in different ways. Like Foggy was lightly bouncing his left leg under the table, and Karen was gnawing at the fingernail on her thumb, while Matt was almost still like a statue, except for the occasional twitch in his lip or hands.

Silence carried on again and again, but just like with every box they shifted through, one of them would break the focus eventually. This time it was–

“This is going nowhere.” Matt said, dropping his half of the file that was transferred in braille. He didn’t care if the pages were slipping out of the yellowish folder, and scattered across the table. Organization was not on his mind.

Foggy frowns, concernedly. “Matt–”

“No, he’s right, Foggy.” Karen said, also dropping her half. “This is hopeless.”

Foggy looks between the two. “Guys–”

The blonde shakes her head, stopping him. “No. It’s going nowhere. We’ve been through ten boxes already. Nothing is matching up with the ransom note.”

This got him to sigh, and rub his face into his hands. “Okay…” He rests his palms in the back of his head. “Okay. What have we got so far?”

Matt clenches his jaw. “All we got is some guy claiming we… failed helping his brother. Who so happens to be our first client.” He explains, hearing him nod, taking it in. “However, from our knowledge, Karen was our first client.”

“Right.” Foggy said, and focused his gaze on the woman across from. “But you told us you don’t have a brother who could have done this.”

Karen nods. “Yeah. I-I had one, but he’s… passed.” She replies, getting teary eyed.

“And… you’re not aware of having any others? No half siblings or…?”

“No. My father’s… life, after my mother passed, he practically just lived in the diner we owned. Never really doing anything outside work.” She shrugs. “I mean, if he had other children somehow I would’ve known since I was with him all the time. And then I’ve lived here for about… three years now, so if he had a kid after I left he would be about that old.”

Foggy hums. “And I doubt a toddler could commit a kidnapping.” He scratches his chin. “But it has to be you. You were Matt and I’s first client.”

She shrugs again. “Then I don’t know what else to tell you…”

Matt lets out a sigh, standing up in a way that makes his chair scrap across the floor. “I need more coffee.” Was his reply, and grabbed his empty cup. He leaves the office for their kitchenette, ignoring the two pairs of eyes on him.

Once he left, Karen made a move. “Go talk to him.” She said, quietly.

“Me?” Foggy said, surprised. “I don’t know, maybe you should–”

“If I really am somehow connected to this, maybe I shouldn’t be talking to him.”

That made his heart break a little. “Karen–”

“Please.” She begs, her blue orbs glassing over.

Foggy stayed quiet, only replying with a small shake of his head. He stands up and leaves the room, faintly hearing her sobbing. He finds his partner bracing himself against the counter, the coffee pot and lights weren’t even on. Foggy didn’t even correct that, instead he just came and silently stood next to him.

It wasn’t until the clock on the microwave turned from 11:38 to 11:50 when he decided to crack the ice wall his friend was putting up.

“What’s going through your head?” Foggy asked, voice strained with all sorts of emotions he tried to hide.

Matt inhales slowly, blind gaze still on the countertop. “Guilt.”

“It’s not your fault, man.”

“You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I did.”

“Explain it to me more clearly then.” Foggy rephrases, watching him closely. “What happened?”

Matt finally looks in his direction, thinking. “After the… you know…” He lowers his voice. “You guys found me on the rooftop. After you left, That's when things got… tense between me and Kai. I-I just wasn’t thinking about hers, or yours, or Karen’s feelings. I was just… pissed that I got hurt. Pissed that I didn’t stop the Punisher.” He swallows. “I… the gunshot made me… lose my hearing.”

Foggy’s eyes widened immediately. “What? You went deaf?!” He said just as Matt shushed him quietly. He quickly winces and takes a look to make sure Karen didn’t hear that. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just… keep it down.”

“I will, but… you lost your hearing? What the fuck, man?”

“Only… only temporarily. I promise.” Matt reassures, truthfully. “Anyway, She, Kai, helped me but um… I was being stubborn as usual.”

“Shocker.”

“I know. Afterwards, I went to this guy who owed me a favor, said he’d fixed up the helmet and that’s when I got a text from her. It said it was an emergency, told me to get home quickly, so I did.” Matt sighs again and continues, “She… she lied to get me to come home. Begged me not to go out there to look for the Punisher. I told her it was my job to stop him, then that’s when everything went downhill.” He frowns. “She brought up an agreement we made after Fisk was put in jail.”

Foggy cocks his head, intrigued. “What agreement?”

“That she’ll help me balance my two lives. Which I… I didn't want to listen to it. And instead, I flipped it around on her.”

“How so?”

Matt's gaze flickered to their office, the one that Karen was in, pausing to hear if she was eavesdropping (She wasn’t from what he could tell). “Remember our argument after you found out my secret?” He asked, turning his attention back to him.

“How could I forget?” Foggy said, gloomily.

“Well, Kaila said she needed a break, so she decided to go stay at Karen’s for the night.” Matt replies, shifting his stance. “Remember when you went to find Kaila at her favorite coffee shop, did you notice anything… ‘off’ about her?”

Foggy ponders on that for a moment. “Actually… yeah. I did. She seemed down and in her head.”

Matt nods. “I noticed that, quickly for obvious reasons. When I asked what happened at Karen’s, she told me she’ll tell me when she’s ready. And… I respected her decision, and it became part of our agreement.”

“So… instead of listening, you try to turn it on her?”

“Yeah. I thought it should be a two way street. We went back and forth for a few minutes, eventually she accused me of the suit having a possession over me. I told her that the devil was a part of me, then she asked me if I was worried about not coming back to her. Then I…” He trails off.

“What?” Foggy asked, heart already aching before the answer. “What did you say?”

There was a small pause, and then– “I said, ‘Well maybe I wouldn’t have to worry if you weren’t here’.”

Foggy closes his eyes with a inhale. “Jesus, Matt…”

Matt swallows, throat closing up. “She told me she fucking hated me, Foggy.” He said, sounding so small and fragile.

Foggy sighs. “Matt, she didn’t mean that. Nor did you mean what you said.”

“It doesn’t matter if I meant it or not, Foggy.” Matt says, looking down. “I thought she wanted space, so I gave her space. And the time she called for me was the first time I didn’t answer.”

“First off, she tried to call you, so it’s not like you ignored her call.”

“But–”

“And you were just respecting her wishes. What happened to her was not your fault.”

“But she’s my daughter, Foggy.”

“And we’re going to get her back.” Foggy touches both his shoulders. “I know it’s hard, but let's put this guilt aside and figure this out.” He lets a tiny smile on his lips. “And when this is officially over, we're temporarily closing up shop and going to Hawaii.”

That got Matt to chuckle a little. “Hawaii, huh?”

“Never been, and would love to go. We'll probably have to start a go-fund me to get the money, but we’ll make it work.”

“Yeah.” Matt’s face fell again. “Wait… you said ‘officially’?”

Foggy raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I did. Why?”

Matt’s confidence started to come back at a realization. “Because I just remembered what the ransom note said. It says that we failed our ‘official’ first client.”

“Yeah… and…?” Foggy trails off, not following his partner’s lead.

“If it’s saying ‘official’ in the way I think it’s referring as, then…”

“Then…?”

“Then that means Karen isn’t our first client.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Kaila silently watched him eat another apple by himself before leaning back in the chair, eyes glued to his phone. The volume was low, but she swears she can hear some kind of sports game playing. This causes her to pinch her brows together and get the gears in her brain to start turning once more.

None of this… this…

Well…

Could she even call this a kidnapping? Could she tell herself over and over again that’s she being held for ransom?

It sure didn’t feel like it. Sure, this guy was clearly unhinged to a certain degree, but he didn’t exactly (at least her in mind) scream kidnapper. I mean, her last one didn’t exactly fit the description either. James Welsey was just a right hand man with the best poker face on this side of the hudson.

Maybe I’m just watching too many cop shows.

But that’s besides the point. She was just waiting and waiting for something to happen. Like maybe he’ll start recording her for the news media to share, or maybe he’ll talk on the phone to negotiate with the cops. She didn’t expect him to feed her an apple and watch sports.

This is really, really odd. But she can’t just sit here and keep guessing. Besides, he said that she was allowed to speak freely, and she might as well use this privilege to get some answers.

She swallows the heavy bile in her throat first. “So… a-are we just waiting for money to be brought?” She asked, carefully shredding the unclear water.

Baldy sighs. “No. No money. Boss didn’t want any.” He replies, still looking at his phone.

What? She blinks as her interests peak. He left a ransom note about her. How could he not want money?

“Then… w-why did you grab me if you’re not using me for money?” Kaila asked, confused.

Another sigh, but this time he looks up. “Look, sweetheart. I’m just following my instructions.”

“But you’re holding me hostage. What’s the point in you doing this if you aren’t going to get anything in return? Am I just some… some trophy at this point or–”

He suddenly kicks the chair he was sitting in over, the metal rattling against the concrete flooring, startling her. His nonchalant mood changes drastically as he strolls over. “Are you questioning my mission, sweetheart?”

She clenches her jaw. “You told me I could speak freely–”

“Are you–” He roughly grabs her chin, throwing her head forward. “Questioning my mission, sweetheart?”

She gulps down the urge to wince in pain as she keeps her confident gaze. “W-Who’s your Boss?”

He scoffs in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I said… who’s you’re fucking Boss? And what does he want with me?”

His lip twitched, and he found himself closing his eyes to take a deep breath. “I really wish…” He opens them. “I really wish you didn’t ask me that. I thought we had an understanding.”

Before she could say anything his whole palm covers her mouth, and he pushes her head back until it's against a crate, her chair tipping back along with her.

What the fuck is he– Her thought died on her lips as she felt something cold against her thigh, followed by a small click and a loud bang. Pain ripped through her body as she let out an animalistic scream. Of course that sounded like she was underwater by his hand, which became even more when he squeezed down.

He shushes her soothingly. “I warned you, sweetheart. Now I gotta play into my Boss’ rules.” He said, holding up the gun to her watery view. “Don’t ask me questions like that. Okay?” He pauses to see if her scream had subsided, which it did (Now it was just really heavy panting). “Got anything to say for yourself?”

He removes his hand, letting the chair level back to the floor as she takes in a shaky gasp of air.

“Y-You’re…” Kaila chokes, and tries to give him a cold look. “YOU’RE FUCKING INSANE!!!”

Baldy shakes his head. “Me? ME?! I’M INSANE, HUH?! I’M THE CRAZY ONE?!” He starts laughing with hysteria. “Oh… I guess I am. Huh?” He scoffs and cups her face, ignoring how she tries to jerk out of his touch. “Oh, Miss Murdock, what am I going to do with you? Hmm?”

He uses his thumbs to wipe her stained cheeks cleaned, and earns another flinch. He then stands up to fetch his chair to plop down in front of her again.

He sighs. “Alright. Let’s have a look at this.” He starts touching the wound he caused on her thigh, and she whimpers loudly at the touch. “Alright. You know what? Let’s…” He reaches for the gag around her neck, placing it over her mouth and tying it roughly. “Let’s put that back on.”

He starts touching it again. “Well, the bullet’s still in there. But–” He gives her a smile. “You wouldn’t want me to go digging for it, would you? Don’t want to cause you any more pain, right?”

Kaila closes her eyes, more tears falling as he pats her cheek in his attempt to ‘soothe’ her. She wishes she had the power to burn that disgusting hand from his arm.

Suddenly, off in the distance of this gigantic building, you could hear a door closing loudly.

The two of them perked up for different reasons. One annoyed and one (slightly) hopeful. Could you guess who was who?

Baldy hums. “I don’t remember expecting anyone yet.” He quickly pulls out his phone, turning on the screen. He frowns. “Hmm… nothing.” He stands up once more. “I’ll be right back. ‘Cause last time I checked, Boss was supposed to call me before picking you up.”

Picking me up? She wonders as she watches him walk away while whistling some tune. She could only hope whoever came in was on her side, but she was scared for them. She now knew that Baldy was a lot more crazy than she thought, and didn’t know what he was fully capable of.

She closes her eyes and starts quietly crying.

I really hope that’s my dad…

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

She promised herself she wasn’t going to cry again, not unless they were happy tears; But here she is, doing the opposite. Karen had her face buried into her hands, feeling like the weight of the world was crushing her form. Unlike Matt and Foggy, Karen knew really what this kidnapping was (probably) doing to Kaila.

Although, the more she thought about it, the more she didn’t like the outcome. When the teenager stumbled to her door after killing Wesley, it sure felt different than now. Karen knew what killing another human being feels like. She knew how to handle the situation, knew how to comfort like nobody else would.

But this was different. They didn’t know who this kidnapper was. And even with the note they left there was no clear MO. Was it just revenge? Did they want money from Nelson and Murdock? What was it? And why was this person’s brother their first client? She was their first client. She remembers that day as crystal clear as it could get. And it couldn’t be her beloved brother Kevin because she killed him he died. Or…

Do I really have more siblings than I thought? That thought made her skin crawl, and Karen couldn’t help but choke down another sob.

Oh, god… what if I got that poor child killed?

“What exactly are you saying? Matt?!”

The sudden voice makes her look up, finding her colleagues coming back in.

“Matt?” Foggy tries again, but the blind man isn't listening as he sets another box on the table, opening up and digging inside.

“What’s going on?” Karen asked, wiping her eyes clean as she stood up.

Foggy jerks his finger towards their friend. “He just said something weird and won’t elaborate on what he meant.”

She looks his way. “Matt?”

Matt didn’t answer until he found the file he’s looking for. He holds it close like it’s his last life source. “In the ransom note, It states that we, Nelson and Murdock, failed to help the kidnapper’s brother. Which is…” He trails off for them to finish.

Foggy and Karen share a look of confusion.

“Which… is your guys’ first client.” She replies, stating the obvious.

“Which is Karen.” He adds.

“Correction. It says our ‘Official First Client’. That’s not Karen.” Matt said, getting even stranger looks thrown his way.

Foggy shakes his head, holding his hands up. “Hang on a second.” He said, processing. “What?”

“It’s not Karen.”

“Explain.”

“Okay…” Matt nods with a small sigh. “Do you remember the beginning for us? We met Karen on the first day we opened after Brett gave us that tip that we desperately needed. Without any questions, we went down there with hope. However…” He cast his gaze at the blonde. “Karen. What did you say to us that almost made Foggy walk out the door?”

Foggy cocks his head in confusion again, as the gears in Karen’s head start to turn.

She pursues her lips. “That…” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t have any money.”

Matt points at her. “Exactly. Now, of course since you were our client, regardless if you paid or not, we still would have a file on you. However, since you never gave us any money, besides that one file, there’s nowhere else to tell anyone that Karen was a client of ours. Which means…”

Now it was Foggy’s turn to understand. “It wouldn’t be something we write on our taxes. Or better yet, there’s no check from Karen in our bank account. There’s no statement backing her up as our first client other than word to mouth.”

Matt points to him now. “Now you’re both getting it.”

“Okay, okay.” Karen begins, holding up her hands, thinking. “So… your first client was a paying client. Something that you can prove. Who?”

“Yeah.” Foggy says, nodding. “Who? We did a lot of charity work before we started making bank, Matt.”

“Agreed. We did.” Matt admits, nodding as well. “So I really had to think about this one. But then it hit me. Our first client was someone who gave us a lot of money that day. And that was–” He flips the file over, showing off the name. “John Healy.”

Foggy cocks his head again. “John–” He gasps. “The bowling ball dude! Prohaszka’s killer.”

Another nod. “Exactly.” Matt said, setting the folder down. “He was our first paying client, which–

“W-Which we, quote-on-quote, failed… when he committed suicide.” Karen said, piecing it all together.

“Also correct.”

“B-But…” Foggy stutters into a sigh. “That doesn’t make any sense. Didn’t we learn later on that he killed himself because of Fisk?”

“Yeah.” Karen replies, pointing at her colleague, agreeing. “H-He killed himself. W-We didn’t have anything to do with that.”

“Obviously Mr. Healy’s brother didn’t see it that way.” Matt said, somberly.

“But I don’t remember seeing in the reports that Healy had a brother.” Foggy said, thinking again.

“Doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have one. Also, who knows…” The blind man shrugs. “John Healy could have been a pseudonym for all we know.”

“True.”

“Wait.” Karen said, holding her hand up. “M-Maybe it’s true. Maybe he really does have a brother. However, we can’t forget that John Healy was hired by Fisk to assassinate Prohaszka so that the Russians could take over his territory. What if… Fisk is behind this?”

Foggy looks at her with bewilderment. “Karen, Fisk is in jail, we put him there.”

“I know, but…” She bites her lip. “Once a mob boss, always a mob boss. Even if he’s in jail, it doesn't mean he doesn’t still have eyes and ears everywhere. Right?”

The question made the room fall into darkness. The silence was almost hard to bear as they all mentally trembled at the mere thought of Fisk coming back into the field.

Matt clears his throat. “So… we have two options, I guess. One, is that John Healy had a brother who blames us for his death. Or…” The next sentence felt ill on his tongue. “Wilson Fisk… is coming back with revenge for putting him behind bars. Both unfortunately seem likely.”

“So what do we do?” Karen asked, hugging herself.

“We call Brett.” Foggy replies, sounding more confident than before. “Tell him what we found. Maybe he could use it to find her, and hopefully he has leads already.”

She nods at this. “Hopefully. D-Do you want to call him or–”

“No, No. I’ll call him. I got him on speed dial anyway.”

“Really, Foggy. I can do it.”

“No. I got it. Don’t worry.”

She tries to convince him again, damn well knowing what he was doing, but already left the room with his phone in his hand. She bites her lip.

Damn you, Foggy. She cusses and hugs herself a little tighter. Maybe if she stays quiet, he wouldn’t ask–

“Hey, Karen?” Matt said, which makes her close her eyes out of frustration.

“Y-Yeah, Matt?” She stutters, quietly.

“Are you okay?”

She opens her eyes to look at him, and even with his shades on she could see the genuine concern on his face towards her. For being a blind man he sure knew how to read people.

Karen finds herself shaking her head, getting teary eyed again. He seemed to figure that out as well.

“Karen?” He begins, but she finally replies.

“No… I’m not.”

And that was the absolute truth.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The door creaked open louder than he wanted, and cussed under his breath when it closed the same. The Officer had his gun trained on something imaginary infront of him, eyes carefully looking around the warehouse. A simple task of checking the port for anything out of the ordinary took a turn when heard a single gunshot. Just a single sound of one could mean a lifetime of choices.

The man in blue started taking a slow and steady stroll, peeking around corners on the metal crates, listening intensely for anything out of place. Well…

He certainly found something out of place.

He lowers his gun slightly, eyes full of surprise. “Oh my god.” He mutters, his presence making the girl meet his gaze. “You’re that kidnapped girl.”

Kaila’s heart sank, and she swears she probably became even paler than she already is. The Officer obviously didn’t see that her expression wasn’t out of surprise but rather out of fear for him.

He uses his free hand to touch his radio, the device making a tiny crackling sound. “This is Officer Carmichael. I was at my post when I heard a gunshot, seeked it out. I’m at a warehouse, one closest by the water, I have a hostage situation. The hostage is the abducted girl we’ve been looking for.”

He lets go of the button, face softening on his strong features. “You okay, Ma’am?” He asked, taking a small step forward. She starts shaking her head, muffling saying something. “Don’t be scared. I’m here to help.”

She repeats the same motion again, praying he’ll get the message.

{Copy that. Is the hostage injured?}

The radio crackled again, and the Officer paused his steps to answer. “Hostage is…” He trails off to do a head to toe scan. “Hostage appears to be–”

She never knew metal hitting bone would sound so terrifying.

She had so desperately tried to say something before she watched the man get struck in the side of the head by a chair. Baldy had come out of nowhere, a rageful look in his eye as he knocked the officer down. She screamed as he hit him again, and again, and again until the man in blue stopped moving.

Baldy let out a sigh, dropping the chair painted red with a loud rattle, making her sob loudly.

{-Carmichael? Officer Carmichael? Do you copy? Sir?}

Another sigh. “Stupid cop. Almost ruined all the fun.” He grumbled, and stepped on the radio a few times until it stopped spewing feedback.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Frank’s been called a lot of things his entire life. Some of it was true, some of it was just a meaningless taunt, and some of it was just to get under his skin. But there’s one name that he’ll have to take to heart, one that he just has to accept.

Monster.

He was a monster. He knows what he’s done. From here to the war. A monster. But even this monster knows when to take a minute and show some kind of mercy.

He heard stories about a man in a mask long before coming to Hell’s Kitchen.

The Man in Black. The Man without Fear. The Devil.

He heard stories about people fearing him. People fearing that they’ll end up getting thrown off a rooftop, or having both their legs broken by just robbing an old lady for her purse. He was the vigilante protecting this city, and it wasn’t until he stopped Wilson Fisk from escaping that’s when he started to earn some respect. They called him Daredevil. A hero. But one that people still needed to fear despite the good stuff seeping through the cracks.

But Frank didn’t care when he came to do his job. He didn’t care if he would get a visit from someone who plays dress up. And, to be honest, Frank wasn’t at all impressed. This so called… Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was a prissy.

Sure, I guess he’ll give it to him that he knows how to put up a fight, but that’s it. Just the man talking wanted Frank to melt his own ears off. That shit about hope made him want to strangle Red until he stopped moving.

These vile people needing redemption is a bunch of bullshit. He scoffed.

His plan was just to let Red hear his voicemails before shooting up the gang’s hideout, letting Red listen to the scum crying for help as he couldn’t do anything but just sit there tied in chains. But plans change. He’s a soldier, he expects the unexpected. Yet…

None of that training could prepare him for what happened next.

Red had a friend. A friend who sounded hysterical, one who was begging him to answer the phone. And slowly those pleading voicemails turned into every parent's worst nightmare.

Red’s child was missing -no- taken. Taken by some… low life prick in this city. It wasn’t just Frank’s exterior that changed, but Red’s did. His whole hero front fell as he started to beg, beg him to let him go and find his child.

Now Frank may be a monster, but he loved nothing more in this world than his children.

And from the sound of it, so did Red. And what kind of father would Frank be if he didn’t let him go?

The police radio he had started crackling, a new signal coming through. Frank paused his task of cleaning his rifle to listen, silently hoping that this is the lead he needs.

{S-Shots were fired. Officer Carmichael is not responding after sending in his call. Calling all available units to the port. The Officer states the kidnapped teenager is at one of the warehouses closest to the water.}

{Copy that. Did the Officer state what’s going on with the teenager?}

{Nothing to be reported. The teenager, Kaila Murdock, is five-four, one hundred and ten pounds, with brown hair and brown eyes. The suspect charged with her abduction may be armed. Proceed with caution.}

{Copy that. Heading over there now.}

Frank takes the information in, thinking his plan over extremely carefully.

The port, huh? He stands up from the ledge he is sitting on, turning off the radio.

Time for me to pay Red a visit.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt could hear the hurt in her voice. The guilt. The pain she was feeling from all of this. He finds himself standing in front of her, smelling the new and old salt on her delicate cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, gently. He heard her lip quiver as she said,

“I really thought it was my fault, Matt.”

“Karen–”

“I really, really thought this was because of me.”

“Karen, Karen.” He tries to soothe. “Even if it was your brother, I could never blame you for this.”

She shakes her head. “But Matt, It’s your kid, I can’t–”

“Karen–”

“I really love her, Matt.”

Of course she does. Matt knew this. He senses this. However, her confession felt… different then when Foggy says it. Why would it be–

“She’s an amazing kid.” Karen continues, oblivious to his overthinking. “She’s been nothing but nice to me. Polite. I always have good conversations with her and… I love her. I love her enough that I don’t want anything happening to her. So… If this really is my fault then… I don’t know what I’ll do to myself.”

All of a sudden, her confession reminded him of a case he took early in his career. It was a custody case, one that Matt knew right away that the father wasn’t going to win; But his client, the mother who he knew would win without any worries, broke down in the most painful way. The love she had for her son was off the charts, she would do anything to keep him in her arms, even if it was only for one more night. And that woman… reminded him of the blonde standing before him. Matt came into a sudden realization that Karen–

Loves my daughter. And that was like a one and million chance for him. His past few dates or people who were almost his girlfriend never stuck around when he told them he had a kid. Now it’s not like he expected them to be a mother to his daughter, but all he asked was a little respect that none of them could provide.

Until now.

“Karen, That’s–” Matt begins, a little smile growing on his lips. “The nicest thing that anyone has said to me about my daughter.” He felt her look of surprise, and slight confusion.

“Wha– really?” She asked, getting a nod.

“Yeah.” He couldn’t keep the happiness off his face. “Thank you.”

“Matt–”

“Relax.” He takes her by the hand. “Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll get her back.”

She squeezes his hand as the words sink, her red lips curling into a smile.

Foggy suddenly comes back in, cell phone in hand. “Alright, I called him.” He said, expression somber.

“What did he say?” Matt said, hopeful.

“Well, Brett didn’t take the call, someone else did.” He frowns. “I told them what we found but they didn’t have any updates yet.”

Matt’s face falls and Karen squeezes his hand. “Of course…”

“I’m sorry, Man.”

“No. It’s fine.” It’s not but, “I can just–” He was cut off when his phone started to ring. He digs it out with his free hand, listening to the automated voice.

[Unknown Number]

“Excuse me.” Matt said, swiping the screen and bringing it to his ear. “Hello?”

‘Didn’t think I’d ever get your attention, Red.’

He felt the wind get knocked out of him. “Frank?” He said, and immediately felt eyes on him.

‘Don’t sound surprised. Listen, Red. Take a left out of your building, and I’m on the roof of the coffee shop.’

“Frank–”

‘Don’t waste any more time.’

The call cut off and Matt was just left standing there with disbelief.

What the fuck is he–

“Who’s Frank?” Foggy asked, already sensing something is off.

Matt starts conjuring up a lie on the fly as he puts his phone away. “Uh, that was a police officer. They found something at my apartment that they wanted me to look at.” He replies, letting go of Karen’s hand.

“An officer?”

“Yeah.”

“But you called him by his first name?” Karen said, suspicious.

“I-I did.” Matt said, shifting his weight. “I became acquainted with him a while ago. So, um, I… gotta go.” He starts shifting past them.

“Go? Do you want me to drive you?”

“No, No. I’ll be good.” Matt touches Foggy’s shoulder he passed, a silent message that he’s got Daredevil business to deal with. “I’ll give you guys a call afterwards.”

Foggy nods, playing along. “Okay, man. That sounds good.” He said, watching his friend gather his things by the door. “Keep us in the loop.”

Or that was loosely translated to, ‘Be careful or I’ll kick your ass black and blue.’

Matt gives them a nod before heading out the door. Foggy inhales the breath he was holding, and starts rubbing his face with disbelief.

“Foggy?” Karen said, staring at the now closed door.

“Yeah?”

“Wasn’t that strange?”

He stares at her. “Wh-What do you mean?”

She gives him a look like he has two heads. “Did you not see what I see? He’s hiding something.”

“I-I didn’t see anything.”

Karen crosses her arms, looking stern. “Foggy.”

“What?” He raises his hands. “I didn’t see anything.”

She frowns and starts looking around for her belongings. “Well, I’m going after him.”

Foggy felt his stomach drop. “What?” He said, confused.

“He shouldn’t be walking alone.” She explains, grabbing her purse. “I’m going to find him and drop him off at his apartment.”

“What?” He starts following her as she heads for the door. “Y-You can’t.”

Karen sighs as she opens the door. “Why not?” She asked, looking his way.

Now he was like a deer in a headlight, and for some reason he couldn’t come up with a good lie. “Uh…”

She cocks her head, realizing something. “Wait. Do you know what’s going on with him?”

“Uh, well I, um–”

“Oh my god.” She mumbles before hustling out the door, enough to shock Foggy out of his state.

“Wait! Karen!” He yells, quick to snag his keys and runs after her. “Karen! Hold on! Karen!”

But he knows he’s not going to catch up with her in time.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

All her hope was squashed like a bug.

Crushed like a can.

Stepped on like trash.

Every little bit of hope she had of getting out of here was discarded out the window now.

Kaila trembles under his gaze after Baldy uses the front of his shoe to touch the officer’s back. The little movement didn’t even seem to faze the cop who was either unconscious or–

Oh, god. Is he…?

He seemed to have read her mind as he grins and says, “Don’t worry sweetheart, he’s fine. He’s breathing.” He shrugs. “Barely. But it’s there.”

And you’re okay with that, you sick fuck.

Baldy starts walking over to her, and with little movement she had with her hands, she ends up gripping the chair. She casts her eyes to the floor, too scared to even look at him. Of course he didn’t seem to like it as he tilted her chin up at him.

“Did you say anything to him?” He asked, curiosity and cold make a terrible mix. She shakes her head eagerly. “Good.” He ruffled her already tangled locks. “Good job, sweetheart.”

And she started to cry.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt finally climbed up the fire escape once he knew the coast was clear. Throwing his walking stick aside, but kept the bag he was carrying on his shoulder as he speed walks towards the figure staying in the shadows.

“You got a lot of guts calling me on my phone.” Was his reply, watching the Punisher look at him calmly, despite the large sniper rifle in his calloused hands.

“Well, you didn't look like you were going to be leaving that office of yours any time soon. I had to get your attention somehow, Red.” Frank said, serenely. “I’m surprised you’re not out here with your costume looking for your daughter.”

Matt frowns, hurt. “The devil is the reason my daughter’s in this mess.”

Frank scoffed. “Really? ‘Cause in the police reports I’ve read, it sounded like it was your job that got your daughter in this mess–”

“What do you want, Frank?” The blind man asked, quickly. He just wanted some straight answers at this point. No run arounds.

Frank straightens his stance off the wall. “Followed a police call. An Officer found your kid down by the ports.”

Matt’s heart skipped a beat from the news, his tough exterior cracking immensely. “What?”

“Yeah. The report says the Officer became unresponsive, so they don’t know what’s going on. But your daughter’s there, Red.”

Someone…

““Your daughter’s there, Red.””

Someone found his kid.

Someone found his kid while he was–

“And…” He almost laughed with disbelief . “And you went through all this trouble to tell me that?” He asked, still not fully processing this yet.

Frank nods slowly. “I expect you to do the same.” He admits, with a sadness in his undertone. “Father to Father.”

Matt cracks just a little smile on his downcast. “Father to Father.” He said, and gestures to the open air without any hesitation. “Lead the way.”

I’m going to save my daughter.

Frank chuckles under his breath, fingers tightening on his weapon, a sign showing he's open for business. “Let’s go get your kid.” He replies, pushing off the wall and heading in the direction with Red right on his–

“Matt?”

The two grown men stop in their tracks, a cold sweat on their necks.

Shit. Matt felt his stomach drop.

He swears he didn’t even hear her following. He was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn’t even get the chance to slow down and really listen. He turns around, hiding his surprise as senses Karen standing at the top of the fire escape; He could almost picture the look on her face. The look of shock, confusion… betrayal(?). All of it. And all of it made his throat tighten up.

She seemed to realize she was just staring, and started moving to stand on solid ground. “W-What are… what is this?” She asked, looking between him and the gunman she quickly recognized. “W-What’s going on?”

Matt wants to bow his head in shame, he wants to start running away but he couldn’t. His feet felt glued to this rooftop.

This is not how I want her to find out. He must have stayed quiet for too long because she started shouting his name.

“Matt!” Karen said, arms moving in frustration, enough to make the heels in her hand start thumping loudly together. “What is this? What’s going on? How’d you even get up here?”

Matt takes a deep breath, coming up close, careful not to step on her bare feet. “Karen. Don’t get mad, I–”

“Mad?” She said, almost scoffing. “I-I f-find you with the criminal that is after our client a-and you’re telling me not to get mad, and–”

“Karen.” He said, calmly enough to cut off her rambling.

“What?” She said, a hiss in her tongue.

“He…” He swallows. “He found Kaila.”

She stares, stunned. “What?”

“He found Kaila. He’s asked me to come with him.”

Another long stare. “What?” She shakes her head. “C-Come… come with you? Matt, are you crazy?! You can’t go with him! You’re not–”

Her words die quickly when he opens up his gym bag.

Shock was probably not the strong enough word to describe what she was feeling all of a sudden.

Inside she saw a very familiar looking helmet. Painted a nice shade of red and black with a stitching mark near one of the eyeholes. The mask that’s…

Oh my god, He’s–

“I know this is a lot to take in right now, and I’m really sorry.” Matt says, getting her attention. “I-I promise… I'll explain everything later, But right now… I need to go get my kid.”

Karen tilts her head, trying to make sense of this. “Matt–” She croaked.

“I know.” He whispers softly. “I know. But I need to go. The officer who found her non responsive, so I don't know what's going on. But my daughter's in danger, and I need to go get her.” He swallows. “Okay?”

Matt was ready for her to counter back, expecting her to. But she didn’t. He heard her nod very subtly as she sealed her lips, hiding what she had to say. Yet, that was enough for him to take it as a sign to leave.

He closes his bag, and with every promising bone in his body he replies, “I’ll be back.”

Then he left, following the Punisher in the direction of the ports.

Karen was left just standing there, standing there wondering what she should feel. Anger? Sadness? Shock? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t pulled from her thoughts when she heard someone calling her name very faintly. Somehow she found herself back on the ground floor, briskly strolling out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, not even bothering to put her heels back on as she stared blankly in the open space.

“K-Karen!” Foggy shouts, with a heavy underline of breathing. “K-Karen…” He starts slowing his pace upon seeing her. “Jesus, you walk fast.”

She stayed quiet as he stopped to put his hands on his kneecaps, taking a moment to breathe some air. Once he started to cool down, that’s when he realized how silent she was being.

He looks up at her with a slight tilt in his head. “Karen?” He asked, straightening up. He then takes this chance to look at her, quickly noticing the shoes were in her hand and the torn gaze in her eyes. It took all his strength not to let his heart drop to his ankles.

Oh… His hazel eyes widened slightly, pursing his lips.

“Oh.” He mumbles verbally. “So… you know.” He watches her meet his gaze and nods. He inhales loudly. “Okay. Um–” He runs his hand through his hair, thinking. “Y-You–”

“Matt was with that…” She bites her lip. “That Punisher guy. I asked him what and why, and…” Karen throws her open hand in the air. “H-He showed me his costume so… yeah.”

“Oh.” He blinks. “So that’s how– wait… The Punisher?”

“From what I gather I think he’s that… Frank fellow on the phone so… um–” She sighs, throwing her head back. “He told Matt he knows where Kaila is.”

Foggy felt his eyes widen again. “What?” He perks up at the news. “He does?” He waits for her to nod once more. “T-That’s great! Oh my god, that’s…” He felt his joy burn away instantly. “Karen–”

“How long have you known?” Karen asked, locking her blue orbs with his. She was starting to look torn between two worlds again. “How long have you known that Matt was… that.”

He frowns, a bitter memory coming to haunt him. He takes a deep breath, and takes a small step forward. “Do you remember around the time before we took down Fisk, and Matt and I were… resenting one another?”

She copies his expression. “I do.”

“Well… it was around that. Uh, Matt had uh… tried to go after Fisk when he killed Ms. Cardenas. Uh–” Foggy starts waving his hand around, like he was trying to conjure his thoughts. “I-I got… drunk at Josie’s if you remember. After that, I went to his apartment. I wanted to talk to him about getting justice for her. Before you know it, I find him in his black outfit, bleeding to death. That’s when I realized why Matt looked so… used all the time. He had another life.”

Karen lets out a sigh, closing her eyes to take a moment. Once she opened them again she started shaking her head. “And… y-you argued with him, after that?” She asked, trying to make sense of this all.

Foggy nods eagerly, hiding no shame. “I was angry at him. I mean, we’ve been best friends since College, to find out that’s what he’s been doing every night just… baffled me. I couldn’t believe it.” He replies, sounding hurt just by talking about it. “I said things that should be said, and I said things that I probably shouldn’t have said to him. It was just… hard seeing him like that. Hard to see what he was becoming and what it was doing to his life and his family.”

“Wow…” She whispers, before paleing. “Wait. D-Did… Did Kaila figure that out that night? Or…”

“Oh! No, no, no.” Foggy chuckles dryly. “She found out… about a year before me.” He almost shakes his head again upon picturing Matt’s face. “In fact, he told me once he tried to hide that from her.”

That actually got Karen to snicker a little. “Oh my god, that sounds like something he would do. I mean, I guess I could understand keeping it from his friends, but his daughter? How would he be able to do that?”

He gestures at her. “Right! God, he’s so… stubborn, it’s ridiculous.” He listens to her laugh, showing off her pearly whites which lifted his spirits. It was only for a minute or so before he had to break this emotion. “So how do you feel about this?”

She shrugs. “Honestly… I don’t know. I really don’t.” She looks at him again, her mixed expression resting on her features again. “What do we do now?”

Foggy frowns, hurtfully. “All we can do right now is wait. We did our job. Now it’s Matt’s turn to finish.”

Silence came again, but it was one that was going to stay until they got that important phone call.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Great news.”

Kaila looks up at him with bloodshot eyes. Baldy seemed so bubbly now, like he had just won the lottery or something big like that. She knew whatever he was going to say wasn’t going to be good despite his appearance.

Unfazed by her disheveled appearance he continues, “Boss is sending someone to come get us.” His reply makes her body grow cold, shaky fingers gripping the armrest. “Awe, don’t look so down. It’ll be fun.”

The dim lights above them suddenly went out, and with them, so did Baldy’s happy-go-lucky attitude.

He points at her furiously, rage filling his already dark orbs. “You.” He snarled, preying closer. “You told me you didn’t say anything to the cop.” She tried shaking her head but was met with his fierce back hand, causing a small whimper. “Fucking bitch.”

The same door from earlier slams shut, echoing off the wall and scaring him straight.

“Fuck.” He grumbles, pulling out his knife. He starts cutting her free of the ropes, looking around worriedly. When the last limb was free, he pulled the disoriented girl to her feet by her hair. “Come on.”

Kaila would have toppled over from her injured leg if it wasn’t for his arm wrapping around her waist, keeping her upright as they moved. The whole moving process became a blur from the pain. She knew she was wincing every time they abruptly stopped to hide behind a crate, or to make a jerky turn somewhere; Every time they did he would curse something under his breath, occasionally looking around again, knowing someone was in this warehouse hunting them down. Who though? That’s the sketchy question.

Somehow, she knows the direction he wanted to go was inevitable, judging by the way he reacted. This hunter of theirs was trying to cage them in, keep them in one place for who knows what reason. So he chose their detour to be some stairs leading to the roof. What was going through this crazed man’s head was beyond her, as she stared at the dark river and city skylines that had started to become really fuzzy.

They got close to the edge, stopping right before their toes went over. Dread crept up their spines, and Baldy spun them both around, pressing the gun into her temple making her whimper. She shuts her eyes out of instinct, afraid to see who was following them.

“Looks like this is the end of the line for you.”

Kaila shot open her eyes at the familiar voice, and never has she been so relieved to see him in that suit. He really looked like the devil was out hunting by the way he was illuminated in the moonlight, which was showing off just the right amount of rage he didn’t dare to hide this time. She called out his name, but of course it was muffled.

“Quiet.” Baldy hissed, pressing the barrel in more, making her sob (and her father clench his fists). “What the fuck do you want, freak?”

The fact that Matt could smell his daughter’s blood and taste the salt on her skin was enough to make him boil. “I want you to give me the girl you're holding.” He said, low and cold, enough to rattle anyone in their boots.

“Not a fucking chance, Devil Boy.” Baldy snaps, squeezing her around the waist tighter. “I’ve got orders.”

“Orders which you’re going to disobey. Give me the girl.”

“Not a chance.”

Matt grits his teeth. “Listen to me. I’m giving you one chance to do this on your free will. I suggest you take it.”

“Bite me.”

“Listen–” Matt begins to take a step but that seemed to be the wrong move at the moment.

“Don’t you fucking come any closer!!” He yells, taking a step backwards so that his heels are off the ledge… and that Kaila was being held over.

Her scream was enough to make Matt’s skin crawl. He holds up his hands defensively. “Whoa! What about your orders?!” He asked, urgently (alarmed).

“These are my orders! If anything gets in my way I can get rid of her.” Baldy explains, disgusted. “I-I mean... I get paid more if I deliver her alive though…”

“Then keep her alive!” Matt shouts, hearing the way this man was loosening his grip on his kid. “Just give her to me.”

Baldy shakes his head. “No.”

“Last chance.” Matt replies, hearing a certain someone starting to press their finger on the trigger. “Give me the girl.”

He shakes his head again. “I told you. I’m not–”

The vigilante remained as still as he could to let the bullet rip by and lodge itself in the man’s skull.

Kaila finds herself screaming again as the floor gave out and her captor started dropping too. She closed her eyes out of fear again just as she felt a familiar grasp. She felt his hands around her forearms as her body scraped against the side of the building, slowly rocking back and forth from the sudden momentum.

Matt dug his feet into the roof, grounding himself enough to pull his kid up with all his might. The impact of his daughter to his chest made them both stumble to their knees. He could finally let out a gasp of relief feeling her in his arms. He never thought he would be happy to feel his daughter shaking uncontrollably in his embrace. It almost felt too good to be true.

“Kai. Kai.” Her name felt like heaven on his lips as he used one hand to hold her upright, while the other was used to discard his helmet. He could feel her shocked expression on him as he removed her gag. “Kaila?”

“D-Dad…?” She said, throat all scruffy from the hours of yelling.

He lets a smile play on his lips from hearing her speak. “Kai.”

“D-Dad.” She sobs, eyes trailing to his mask. “Y-You’re helmet, you–”

“Hey. Hey.” Matt cups her face gently, making sure she was looking at him. “It doesn’t matter.”

Kaila starts looking puzzled. “But… you’re identity–”

“I don’t care.” He shakes his head. “I don’t care about that right now.”

“Dad…”

“Listen to me, Kai. I am so, so sorry.” Matt almost broke right here. “I am so sorry. I should have never said what I said. I never meant it. I swear. I am so sorry.”

Kaila's lower lip quivered. “Dad.” She sobs. “I’m s-sorry too.”

He shakes his head once more. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” And he meant that. “You hear me? Nothing at all.”

She makes a sound between a laugh and a cry. “D-Daddy…”

Matt’s heart broke all over again before pulling his daughter closer, showering her face with kisses. He only starts silently crying when she does, which makes him pull her back into his arms, carefully cradling her head into his chest. She starts wailing, tightening her grip on him like she was afraid he would disappear.

Matt shushes softly, rubbing soothing circles on her bare back. “It’s okay. I got you. You’re safe. You’re okay.” He said, which was supposed to be for her but to put some comfort in himself too. “You’re okay…”

She’s okay. She’s fine. She’s in my arms. He closes his eyes, pulling her closer.

She holds back a sob a few moments later, feeling like someone was watching them heedfully. Kaila nestles her head, looking over her father’s shoulder to someone off in the distance. She didn’t recognize the man with the large rifle, and although he looked pretty threatening with it, his face was holding onto the emotion of relief; He looked satisfied with his mission. She opens her mouth to question who he was but ends up whimpering in pain when her father moved her the slightest.

Matt pulls back, worriedly cupping her face again. “What’s wrong?” He asked, scared. He wasn’t mentally prepared for what’s next.

She lets out a shaky breath. “L-Leg…”

He pauses to figure out what she meant, using his senses to figure it out. It didn’t take him that long to figure out why he smelled so much blood on her. He could even hear the tiniest sound the bullet made when she moves.

“I-I…” Kaila begins, trembling again. “I-I said something I shouldn’t have and… h-he s-shot me and–”

“Oh, Kai.” Matt said, quietly. He should have prepared for something like this. He shouldn’t have suspected she was going to be in some kind of painful state. “Oh, Baby girl.” She freezes under his touch, and Matt fears he did something wrong. “What?”

“You… haven’t called me that since I was kid.”

Matt chuckles at how surprised she sounded. “Ah, well… maybe I didn’t call you that enough.” He admits, sensing her smile. Now it was his turn to pause, tuning in on something loud nearby. “The police are here. In the distance.”

“I honestly didn’t think they were coming.” Kaila said, sounding small.

“Well there’s ten of these warehouses by the water so…” He trails off, the guilt returning again. “Listen, I can’t… I can’t take you home with me. I have to hand you over to them.”

She nods slowly. “I know. I suspected.”

“Good. But I’ll be there when they call me. Okay?”

“You better.” She teases, getting him to laugh again.

Matt plants another kiss in her hairline. “Alright, I’m going to pick you up, okay? It’s probably going to hurt. You ready?”

Another nod. “I am.” But before he did, she carefully reached over for his mask, holding it towards him. “Helmet, Dad.”

He takes and slips it on, then carefully takes her in his arms bridal style. She cries out weakly, shutting her eyes when he tries to adjust the injured leg somewhere comfortably.

He apologizes which she tells him off politely. Matt begins carrying his daughter towards the roof’s entrance, listening to the law enforcement get closer to their location.

“I want a vacation after this.” She says into his neck, dead serious.

Matt finds himself smirking at a fresh memory. “You know, funny thing, Foggy mentioned something like that earlier.”

“Well he’s not wrong.” She smirks too. “I mean it, I want to go to the beach, do absolutely nothing while drinking something fruity.” She tilts her head enough to look up at him. “Does Florida do fruity drinks too?”

“Your Uncle was thinking more like Hawaii.” He explains, shifting his weight to open the door without jostling her.

Her eyes widened. “Hawaii? Can we even afford that?” She scoffs playfully. “Well, this can be one hell of a Go Fund Me story.”

Matt shakes his head. “Okay, you two are scary.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Officer Brett Mahoney rolled his vehicle to a stop, quick to get out. Flashlight in hand he strolls over to what he thinks is a person on the ground. He sees a small pool of red around the man’s head, eyes closed and limbs spread around. He had a feeling he knew who this man was, but it was still his job to check for a pulse. He puts two fingers to his neck, feeling a very, very faint flutter underneath them.

Brett shakes his head. “You lucky, lucky bastard.” He mumbles, bitterly as he comes to a stand. Then he hears someone walking towards him, and out of instinct his hand goes to his holster. He honestly shouldn’t be surprised that he was there, but still was.

“Mr. Daredevil.” He said, eyeing him as he came into view, the flashlight shining upon him to give him a better look. He perks up what’s in the vigilante’s arms. “You found her.”

“She’s injured, and the officer who found her is inside. He’s unconscious, but breathing.” Matt explains quickly, feeling his daughter shift her head to see their acquaintance.

“I’ll send some men over.” His eyes land on the teenager, softening slightly. “You alright, Miss Murdock?”

Kaila nods. “I’m better now.”

“Good.” Brett gestures to the man behind him. “I’m assuming this ain’t your doing.”

“You know me well then.” Matt said, grateful that he wasn’t going to be pinned to that (despite him being okay that that vile man got a bullet to his head).

Brett hums, thinking. “Then who then?”

He shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He replies, playing dumb.

Brett says nothing more on that, instead taking care of what he was here for. “I’ll take Miss Murdock now. Get her some help.” He says, putting away his flashlight.

Matt nods and starts slowly setting her down onto her feet, just as she grabs him by the wrist.

“Thank you.” Kaila says, which was underlining the real sentence: ‘I’ll see you soon’.

Matt’s serious exterior melted visibly. “You’re welcome.” He helps her grab onto Brett before backing away. He stays for a few seconds just until he knows she’s settled in, then he turns on his heels to disappear into the night.

Brett stared with knowing eyes in the direction he left in. “He seems different.” He says, as Kaila looked at him funny.

“How?” She asked, confused.

But he shakes his head, getting a good hold on her. “Nevermind. Let’s sit you in the car. Ambulance’s on their way.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Three sets of footsteps came bursting into the room, the heavy door practically came off the hinges from their impact. They shouted the girl’s name who immediately looked up from her gaze at the nurse who was changing her IV.

Kaila smiles, only twitching a little from the bruise on her cheek. “S’up?” She asked, the woman in scrubs slipping away.

“K-Pop!” Foggy said, coming over to give her a bear hug. “Holy fuck, that was scary.”

Her happiness sounded more like a groan when he gave her a tight squeeze. “Uh, Foggy, my leg, please.”

He pulls back from confusion. “What?” He watches her lift the sheet up showing up the bandage job. His eyes widened. “What the fuck happen?!”

“Eh, kind of my fault. I said something I probably shouldn’t have.”

Karen came up next, giving her a more mild version of his hug. “Hi, sweet girl.” She said, earning a hum.

“Hi, Karen.” Kaila's facial expression grows upon seeing her dad (again). “Hi, Dad.”

“Kai.” He said, cupping her cheeks carefully and kissing her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly… nothing. This pain meds doing its job.”

“Good. I would hate seeing you in pain.” Foggy said, truthfully.

Her face falls into something bittersweetly. “It is what it is.” Kaila sighs. “The police come by yet?”

“Not yet. Brett mentioned something about giving you some time.” Matt explains, a slight anger in his undertone, not directed at her.

“That’s… honestly surprising. I’d thought they would want answers on a looney like that.”

“Well, that looney of yours is in a coma right now. So I doubt he’s going to try to run anywhere any time soon.” Foggy replies, frowning bitterly.

“Exactly.” Karen said, nodding. “Just don’t worry about him and just focus on recovering.”

“Agreed.” He smiles. “We’re just happy you're okay. I’m glad that the Punisher guy gave Matt a tip to save you.”

Kaila felt herself lose air from that sentence, stiffening immediately. “Wh-What? W-What are you talking about? M-My… My d-dad didn’t save me, i-it was Daredevil and…” She trails off when the three of them looked away from her, making her realize–

“Wait.” She points at the blonde. “You know?” She watches Karen nod before she points between her and her Uncle. “You both know?” Another nod, and Kaila let her tense body relax. “Oh, thank god.” She breathes, throwing her hands up. “Do you know how hard it was to not say anything to you about it?”

Karen laughs. “Oh, I can imagine.”

“Wow.” Kaila said, taking it in. She looks at her father, curious. “Did you tell her, Dad?”

“Uh…” Matt shifted his stance before giving a half shrug. “Well–”

“She walked in on him talking to the Punisher, then to clear it up, your dear old dad showed her his suit.” Foggy clears it, Matt nodding along.

Kaila raises both eyebrows in shock. “Accidental? Again? Dad, you got to work on that.”

Matt chuckles dryly. “I’ll… I’ll try.”

“Well, I guess that’s a better way to find out.” She said, now gazing over towards Karen. “At least you didn’t find him bleeding half to death.”

Her blue eyes widened at the news. “What?!” Karen snaps her neck towards the blind man. “She found you bleeding too?”

Matt holds on hand up in defense. “I have no comment.”

She sighs. “Oh my god…”

Suddenly there was a light knock on the open door, a nurse poked her head inside, holding a clipboard. “Mr. Murdock?”

“That’s me.” Matt said, turning his attention towards her.

“I just need to go over a few things with you.”

“Okay. Um–” He cocks his head towards his friends. “Hey, can one of you help me to…” He makes a writing motion with his hand.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you.” Foggy said, and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder to guide him away.

Now it was just the two girls looking in their direction they left in, both having different thoughts running through their heads. Their brewing minds were put to the stop soon enough when one of them finally broke.

“Now you see why I didn’t want to tell him.” Kaila suddenly says after she watches them step into the hallway, quietly talking.

The older woman turns her attention to her, confused. “About what?”

The teenager frowns. “About the incident. What my father does, that’s the main reason why I have trouble telling him.”

Now it all makes sense to her. Karen now realizes why it was so hard for the kid to come clean about Wesley. She was afraid of…

“That’s why you were afraid.” Karen begins, piecing it together. “You aren’t afraid for your father, you're afraid of what your father’s going to do.”

Kaila nods. “Yeah. You’ve seen him in action. You know what my dad can do.”

“But, Kai, your dad wouldn’t go that far. Would he?”

The teenager’s frown deepens. “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen. My dad he’s… he’s got this… darkness inside. He tries to hide it from me but I still see it sometimes.” She explains, sadly. “Like, I-I think if… the situation with me earlier was different, like if he found me tied to that chair and not dangling over the edge of a building, I think I would have seen that side of him tonight.”

Karen copies her expression, coming closer to sit on the side of the bed. “Listen, your father really loves you and what I think you’re describing is just a normal feeling for a parent. No parent wants to see their child get hurt by anyone else.”

“Yeah, I understand that. However if my dad–” Kaila lowers her voice. “Kills someone because of me, not only will I feel guilty, but I might lose him.” She starts to get a little teary eyed from this. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you and Foggy, and I wouldn’t mind living with you guys, but I still want to be able to live with my dad until I’m that age. You know?”

“Kai–” Karen takes her hand. “Don’t worry about this too much. We’ll figure something out, I promise. But for now, just focus on getting better, okay?” She waits until the girl shakes her head, satisfied by it. “Okay. Are you hungry at all?”

“I could eat.”

“Alright. I’ll go get you something.” Karen stands up and makes her way to the door just as the boys were coming back.

“Where you heading?” Foggy asked, curious.

“Cafeteria. I’m going to get her something to eat. You hungry?”

“Famished, actually. Matt?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Matt replies. “You know what I like.”

“Yes! Hospital food! Here we come.”

Karen snorts. “Come on, Cowboy.” She starts tugging him along. “We’ll be back.”

When they left Matt made his way over, taking the same spot Karen was sitting moments before. “How you feeling?”

“Fine.” Kaila said, truthfully. “I wish I was in my bed though.”

“We’ll get you there soon. You just need to rest.” He said, grabbing her hand gently.

She inhales through her nose quietly, almost afraid to say what she was thinking. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I finally understand why you do what you do.”

He tilts his head, confused. “You mean with Daredevil?”

“Yeah.” She swallows. “That man was crazy. Unhinged. I don’t think I ever… felt evil like that, despite that one time I met Fisk. I understand why you… want to protect this city now. I can see the… the void that’s suffocating this place.”

His heart broke hearing how scared she sounded, and started to become mad at himself over it. He sighs. “I didn’t want you to see that side.” He replies, coming up to wipe a stray tear off her cheek. “I wanted to keep that from you as much as I could.”

“B-But why?”

“Well, you’re daughter. You’re the only good thing that’s come out of my mistakes over the years. Even though I never had a good thing going with your mother, she still gave me something I’ll cherish until I die.”

“But, my m-mother–”

“Enough about Mary. I’ve long forgotten about her.” He said, squeezing her hand delicately. “My only priority in life right now is keeping you safe as long as I can. And…” He smiles. “I’m going to be better about listening to what you have to say. So promise me you'll help me out with that.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re actually willing to put your pride away?”

He chuckles. “What can I say? I’m stubborn.”

Kaila couldn’t hold back a fond grin. “Well, you know what my great-grandma says…”

“‘You gotta watch out for those Murdock boys’.” He replies, remembering her saying that like it was yesterday. “Lucky for you, you seemed to escape that.”

She hums in disagreement. “I don’t know. Just because I’m not a boy doesn’t mean I escaped the ‘Murdock Curse’. I’m still stubborn as hell and looking for trouble.”

“Don’t do that.” He lightly pinches her in the arm.

“Ow. Okay, I won’t do that.”

“Good.” His smile faltered slightly. “Are we good now?”

“Dad, I couldn’t stay mad at you if I could.” Her expression grows. “I love you too much.”

He squeezes her hand again. “And I love you more.”

They sat in a comforting silence for a few minutes before the others arrived, plates and drinks in hand.

“We got food!” Foggy announced boisterously. “Frankly it looks like prison food, but it’s edible.”

Kaila laughs loudly at his childish antics. “I’ll eat a sauce packet at this point I’m so hungry.”

“What do you got?” Matt asked, shifting his weight on the bed to sit straighter.

“Well, let’s see…” The man begins, drifting off into one of his colorful rants.

Kaila’s got a lot of questions about tonight. Some thoughts she needs to share. Some things that need to be done. The first thing she promises herself is she’s going to find out what that dream meant, and who really was that guy who took her away. But her family’s right, she needs to take it easy, relax, heal. She’ll worry about that later.

Right now she’s just going to enjoy the nice moment the universe has granted for her.

A/N: Jesus that was a long one! Hopefully ya'll enjoyed it... and paid a little attention to some details. Trust me, they'll come handy later. If you think you happened to catch one, let me know, I would love to hear it! :D

-Taglist is open if anyone wants to join-

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

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theroseceleste · 14 days

Text

Mafia Miguel - Part 4

The fourth instalment to Mafia Miguel.

You can find chapters before this one below.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

18+ content. Minors DNI!

Contains : Female reader, mention of anxiety, brief mention of violence, smut - oral, fingering and penetrative sex.

Word count - 7609

Hope you enjoy chapter 4!

----------

“I- I’m sorry Mr. O’Hara…” a tall slender man in a work suit stuttered nervously leaning as far back in his chair as he possibly could.

“I’ll stress the fact that only you or Mr. Parker can pick up your daughter from now on to our receptionists. A grievous error on the training front that we’ll be sure to remedy as of today.” Mr Whitaker, Gabriella’s principal quivers in his chair staring up at a furious Mr. O’Hara leaning against his desk glaring down at him; his nostrils flaring as he breathes deeply.

“I have half a mind to request that the offending receptionist is fired!” he growls angrily, however he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath and removes his weight off of the principal's desk.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tries to calm himself down. Remembering he’s not dealing with anyone in the mafia, he tries to contain his frustration and bad temper.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

The principal gulps, feeling like he’s just dodged a bullet. His pale face nods in response.

“Y-yes Mr. O’Hara, of course.”

The serious man stalks out of the principal’s office, it appears he is finished with the conversation. Mr. Whitaker breathes a deep sigh of relief the moment he sees the back of Gabriella’s father. Taking his handkerchief, he mops his sweating brow and relaxes in his chair.

Yet another perfect, sunny day blankets the city of Nueva York. The mafia man dons his sunglasses as he leaves his daughter’s school and heads back to his limo that is parked outside the front.

The events of the day before scares Miguel, even now. He always thought he was careful about leaving potential traceable crumbs, leading back to him or his family. Sending that threat to Kingpin perhaps was a rather boastful move and not quite as well thought out. The excitement of scaring and capturing the man responsible for his wife’s death may have got the better of him. He must tread carefully from now on, especially when it seems Kingpin is willing to retaliate on someone as innocent as his daughter. If he ever finds the spy who has been gathering information on him, he’ll make them pay - dearly.

Sliding into his car, Miguel is greeted by the pleasant air conditioning, cooling him down from the rising heat outside.

Knowing that he’s near your home, he makes a request to stop by to deliver something to you. He doesn’t call ahead or text. If you’re in, he’d like it to be a surprise. His gaze rests on the cute box of cupcakes Gabriella made for you with her babysitter the night before while he was on a date with you.

That date… asides from knowing his daughter was safe at home, the evening he shared with you was one of the other good things that came out of that day.

Standing outside your door, the mafia man shakes his head at himself. If his father was alive, he’d despair at the thought of his now powerful son, the head of a mafia gang, waiting to deliver cupcakes to a girl he had only met the day before. Miguel is the first man in a long line of sons to have a daughter. He believes his wife and Gabriella were responsible for warming his once frozen heart.

After waiting for several moments, he assumes you’re out working as there is no answer at your door. Feeling slightly disappointed that he doesn’t get to see you, he gently places the box on the floor, making sure to leave Gabriella’s note out on display.

***

Huffing and puffing, you clamber up your apartment building’s staircase carrying a couple of bags of groceries. A sweet little box sits at the foot of your door, catching your eye the moment you reach your floor. Picking up the note, you giggle when you read who it’s from.

“Hey (Y/N)!

I made these while papa took you out on your date last night. He says you had a good time and I’m very happy that you did!

Thank you for being my hero. I hope I get to see you soon. Maybe we can bake cupcakes together?

Enjoy!

Gabi xx”

Opening the box just a little, you’re greeted with the sweetest of smells. Chocolate cupcakes baked just the night before sat in the box, looking extremely enticing to say the least. Closing the lid again, you gently place the box in one of your shopping bags before getting a key out to unlock your door, except you find it’s already open.

Anxiousness sets in as you explicitly remember locking the door when you left. Pushing the handle down, you slowly open it with caution.

On your couch where you made out and did other very intimate things with Miguel the night before, sat a different mafia boss. Kingpin…

“Hello (Y/N). I hope you don’t mind me dropping by,” he begins with a sly smile.

Eyeing him suspiciously you step further into your apartment and put your bags down.

“I made sure to leave that beautiful little box outside for you to discover. It’s certainly better than the box I had sent to me by that little girl’s father…”

Thoughts run wild in your mind as to what Miguel had sent to Kingpin. A harsh reminder that he is not all love hearts and flowers…

“What do you want, Mr. Fisk?” you ask quietly and as respectfully as possible, however his presence in your apartment is making you feel uncomfortable - especially after he has somehow managed to pick your lock.

“So, you and him are dating huh? How useful,” your boss comments as he runs his stubby fingers over his chin pensively.

He’s thinking, scheming, planning his next move in this realistic game of chess he’s playing with Miguel. Your heart plummets into your stomach. Nausea sets in as your fears are being confirmed.

“About that…” you begin nervously as you fiddle with your fingers. “I don’t mind most jobs I do for you, Mr. Fisk. But if it involves innocent children, I don’t want to-"

“I’m afraid it’s out of your hands to decide what is and what is not appropriate for your involvement (Y/N). Besides, why would I ask anyone else to get to know him, when you’re practically in his lap?”

Just when you thought your heart couldn’t drop any lower, it did. Was the word ‘lap’ a deliberate choice? You make a mental note to search for hidden cameras in your apartment. Just the thought of him watching you grinding on Miguel makes you feel sick.

Sighing heavily, you relent. You have no choice. “All I ask is don’t hurt the girl. It’s not her fault her father is who he is.”

Fisk nods, giving you some form of relief at least. “Very well, you have my word. Little Miss O’Hara won’t get hurt. But this means you must do as I ask of you. Securing her safety comes at a price.”

He stands as he continues to talk. “Get to know him, romance him, get him to trust you, and report every little detail to me, no matter how insignificant you think it might be. I want to know why that man is after me and why he wants me dead.”

Tears prick at your eyes, you look away from Kingpin’s intense stare. “I don’t like lying to him…” you murmur softly.

Warm but slightly clammy hands cup you under your chin, pulling your head to face him again. “But (Y/N), you’re now the sole reason why Mr. O’Hara’s daughter is safe from my clutches. He should be thanking you.”

Finally, he lets go of you but continues to talk.

“I know it’s not easy what I’m asking you to do. But you’re good at your job and you’re in the best position to do it,” he pauses for a moment, “just don’t get too attached…”

A painful dread fills your stomach and you’re pretty sure you’re going to throw up with severe anxiety.

Fisk heads for the front door.

“I’ll expect daily check-ins from you, so get a move on. Maybe arrange that baking session with the girl?” He offers an idea for your next plan of action before leaving your apartment and closing the door behind him.

You’re in utter shock, frozen in fear and sick with worry. The urge to cry is overwhelming. Last night you let your guard down and allowed yourself to get close to Miguel and now you’re running the risk of hurting both him and his daughter. Fisk’s grip on you is too strong. You know he’ll be unwilling to let you leave as you know too much and he has a use for you.

Knowing that your boss will be expecting a daily update, you slide your phone out of your pocket to get to work on your assignment. Your shaking hands makes texting all the more difficult.

“Hey Miguel. Found the box of cupcakes. Tell Gabi I say thank you and I look forward to having a taste.” You pause as a wave of nausea washes over you. Of course the cupcakes are now going to be bittersweet after the conversation you have just had with your boss. “I’d love to bake with her sometime. Just say when and where and I’ll be there! xx”

You hit send and slip the phone back in your pocket, then you start to put your groceries away to try and distract yourself.

***

Bloodied rubber gloves snap as Miguel pulls them off of his hands. He discards them in a bin reserved for items to be incinerated. Observing his knuckles, he notices they’re now sporting bright red and purple bruises. Despite the pain and the unattractive look about them, he smiles. Exiting the restroom in the Web, he greets Lyla who’s been waiting for him outside.

“Did you enjoy your gift?” she asks with a cheeky smile.

The sound of a cell phone buzzing vibrates from the mafia boss's back trouser pocket.

“I did - be sure to thank Hobie for fetching him for me. Peter’s dying to have his turn with the bastard tomorrow.”

Reaching into his back pocket and taking his phone, he reads the text he’s just received. An even brighter smile crosses his face as he sees it’s from you. He reads your message and begins to reply.

“Perfect! How about this coming Saturday? M.” He texts back, hoping the bruises on his knuckles will have vanished by then.

Lyla watches with intrigue, noticing his smile and a gleam in his eyes.

“Who is she?”

Miguel’s eyes snap up to Lyla suddenly after her intrusive question.

“No one…”

“C’mon boss, you never look at your phone and smile,” she pauses, “unless you have wind or something...”

“Shut up.”

He shoots Lyla a ‘ha, you’re so funny’ glare.

“Actually - you have been a little more chipper lately boss; you’re ‘getting some’ aren’t you?” Lyla grins with glee as she riles Miguel up.

“Another word on the subject, Lyla, and you’re losing your bonus for finding Fisk’s name.”

His PA grimaces in a cartoonish fashion and then sniggers.

“Alright! Alright! Sensitive much…” Lyla retorts. “What do you want to do about your latest addition to the Alchemax / ‘Kingpin’s goons’ collection?”

“Get Hobie to drag the kidnapping scum back into his cell. He’s unconscious so he won’t be kicking and screaming this time…”

***

Late Saturday morning, you nervously climb into the back of Miguel’s limo. He’s in his penthouse waiting with his daughter for you to arrive. You should be feeling excited, but instead you feel sick with nerves. Damn Fisk. Damn this whole thing. You’ve been single for ages now and the one time you find someone who you actually like, you have to freaking spy on him and betray his trust.

The only bit of information you have provided - reluctantly - to Kingpin so far is the fact that Miguel had a wife who died a few years ago.

You watch as the buildings go by while the limo drives through the city. Scanning each high-rise building, you wonder which one he lives in. What a wonderful view to wake up to every morning. Looking out over the city, like a King surveying his land.

A sensation of fluttering butterflies and wriggling worms combined stirred in your stomach. “Get to know him, romance him, get him to trust you.” Fisk’s words circled around your mind in a taunting fashion, driving you mad. You have even made an effort today. You painted your nails, put on a pretty pink dress, put makeup on and sprayed your favourite perfume, although annoyingly, you’ll now associate treachery and lies with the sweet, floral smell resting on your skin.

The limo finally pulls up outside a grand white towering building. A renewed sense of nervousness washes over you, disturbing those butterflies and worms in your stomach once again.

Climbing out of the limo, you look up at the building, tilting your head right back to see the top. Before entering the wide double doors on the ground floor, you reluctantly and indignantly take note of the address to offer as a nugget of information to Kingpin. An ache in your heart causes you to wince as you store your phone back in your bag. You haven’t seen him yet and you’re already gathering intel against him. Dread fills you once again the moment you think about what he’d do to you if he ever found out.

Stepping into the lift, you press the button for the penthouse as you take several deep breaths to calm your fraught nerves.

***

“Papa! She’s here!” you hear a muffled but excited young girl’s voice through the penthouse’s door as you wait for them to answer.

“Si mija, yo se,” (yes darling, I know) you hear her father respond in Spanish.

The door clicks as it unlocks and opens. You're greeted by an excited young girl and a smiling father whose eyes wander over your sweet appearance.

Gabi steps forward and takes your hand, pulling you in rather abruptly. You couldn’t help but giggle at her impatience to get things started.

“(Y/N)! I’ve got all the ingredients out ready for us to begin, come on, the kitchen’s this way!”

Miguel’s eyes catch yours as he mouths the word ‘sorry’, watching you be whisked past him. Closing the door, he then turns to see the back of you, your dress swishing with every step as you continue to make your way to their grand penthouse kitchen. Gabriella has been talking nonstop about you all morning. She’s been itching to spend some girly time with someone who’s willing. Miguel only hopes you enjoy the baking date with her.

“What flavour frosting shall we use? Chocolate? Lemon? Or strawberry?” The girl's eyes are wild with excitement, she’s practically skipping as she pulls you to the countertop with the ingredients laid out neatly.

“Why not all three flavours?” you offer as a suggestion as you crouch down to get closer to her height.

“Yes!” she squeaked enthusiastically.

Her bright face makes you instantly forget your troubles. They both have this effect on you that when you spend time with them you feel you’ve known them for ages. You click instantly.

Before you get to work weighing out the ingredients and helping Gabi with the cake mixture, you feel a sudden warm presence loom behind you. A cute apron is wrapped around you by Miguel with a charming smile spread across his lips.

“So you don’t ruin that pretty dress,” he whispers as you turn your head to face him slightly.

He returns your gaze as you feel him tie a bow behind your back around your waist to make sure the apron stays close to your body.

“Thank you,” you reply breathlessly as you feel his warm breath fan over your face.

“You’re welcome. I’ll preheat the oven…” he murmurs softly to you before stepping away, turning some dials on the kitchen appliance to switch it on and set the temperature.

With a light dusting of flour over Gabriella’s face - you have no clue how it got there - she tries to mix the ingredients together. Her little tongue poking out as she concentrates. As they begin to mix, it becomes more difficult for her much smaller arms to manage.

Rolling up his rather fetching white button-up shirt sleeves, Miguel steps forward.

“Want some help mija?”

“No papa, I want (Y/N) to help me.”

“Oh, okay…” he says, looking mildly surprised and a little disappointed.

It’s clear he’s not used to being turned down for help.

To keep everyone happy, you come up with an idea as a smile forms across your face.

“I’ll mix it for you, but maybe you should let your papa lick the spoon once the cupcakes are in the oven?” Gabi nods enthusiastically at you in response.

A light chuckle comes from Miguel as he sits at the kitchen table and watches the adorable sight before him. Gabriella always seems fairly happy, but today, she’s positively beaming. He observes you cradle the bowl in your arm while you mix the ingredients together. Dragging the spoon all around the sides, making sure you get everything thoroughly mixed. His daughter is transfixed on you, so is he, but both of them are looking at you for different reasons. One seeing you as a potential mother figure, the other, a potential partner to share his life with.

Of course there are hurdles to get over if the relationship did become serious. He couldn’t not tell you about his involvement in the criminal world. How would you react? Run for the hills he wagers… Despite only knowing you for a short time, he and Gabi seem to already consider you as the perfect person; the link they’re missing to keep a strong, loving family unit. His heart falls at the prospect of all that potential crumbling away because the idea of having a criminal husband scares you.

The clean, spacious and luxurious living area soon fills with the sweet smell of cakes baking in the oven. As Gabi passes the mixing spoon to her father, you take the time to observe the décor and furniture.

The prominent colour is white, hence the cleanliness vibes. The furniture, very sleek and modern. A large widescreen TV looming proudly against a wall in the open plan living room. You can imagine it being like a home cinema experience, huddled up on the sofa, sharing popcorn. A smile breaks across your face as you picture it in your mind. The father and daughter duo has an enviable setup here, although this penthouse is rather large just for the both of them.

You watch Miguel as he licks the spoon before playfully dabbing a small dollop of the cake mixture on his daughter’s nose. They both laugh. Your heart melts at the sight before an ice cold sensation suddenly takes hold. The reason you’re here in their penthouse and it wasn’t just for playing happy families, you have to get more information on him.

An alarm beeps away in the kitchen indicating the cupcakes are ready. The irresistible smell of freshly baked cakes fills the nostrils and warms the heart. Gabriella cheers excitedly as she watches you grab a pair of oven gloves and carefully take the baking tray out.

You prepare three frosting bags and help Gabi pipe pink, yellow and brown delicious toppings onto the cupcakes. They did look mouth-wateringly tasty, you have to admit.

Sweet creamy chocolate and vanilla flavours dance across your tongue as you enjoy the delightful treat. You hold out your hand to Gabriella hinting at wanting to give her a high five. She reciprocates and a quick slapping sound fills the air as both of your palms collide.

“Well done you. These are tasty Gabi,” you compliment her with enthusiasm.

“You helped! We made them together. Teamwork - yeah!”

Both you and Miguel chuckle at her as she raises her arms triumphantly before she turns to her father.

“Papa, can I take some cupcakes with me to uncle Gabri’s tonight? I think he’d like some too.”

“Sure mija. Go grab a couple.”

She runs off to go choose some to take to her uncle’s. You raise an eyebrow at Miguel as he sidles up to you.

“My brother Gabriel said he’d take her tonight if you fancy staying for dinner at least?”

Your heart flutters. Another evening with Miguel the mafia man? While maintaining a smile, you feel a slight pang of anxiety strike too. This is exactly what Kingpin wants, but it’s also what you desire, for different reasons. You can’t resist, even if you didn’t have to gather intel. Spending at least an evening alone with Miguel sounded absolutely perfect.

***

It’s time for Gabriella to go for the night. She greets her funcle - yes - funcle, Gabriel at the front door of the penthouse. Miguel shakes his head at the two as Gabi goes running up to uncle Gabri and gets swooped up in his wide open arms.

“I always wonder why you get a far more enthusiastic greeting from my daughter than I do…” Miguel smirks as he approaches with a small bag full of Gabi’s things for the night.

Gabriel scruffs his niece’s hair as she hugs him.

“I dunno bro, maybe ‘cause we eat candy for dinner or she stays up way past her bedtime when she’s with me,” the wild, red haired brother replies as he sets Gabriella back down on the floor.

“OR,” he pauses, looking as though he’s been struck by an idea, “we share a special bond over incredibly similar names - good choice by the way…” He winks at his not so impressed brother.

Miguel gives his brother a stern eyebrow raise and glare as if to say ‘you better not be feeding her candy for dinner…’

“And that’s why she greets me like she does!” He then turns to Gabi and holds his finger up to his lips like their future dinner plans will now be their little secret.

You chuckle as you enjoy watching the cute family dynamic going on between the three. But the acoustics of the place carries your little laugh right into Gabri’s ears, causing him to look up. For a second he thinks he hears his deceased sister-in-law. His wide eyes land on you.

“Ah, this is she huh?” he asks his brother with interest.

Gabriel has never seen Miguel with a woman since his wife’s untimely death. His brother nods quietly in response.

“Cool apron…” he says as he waves from across the room.

You look down, you forgot you were still wearing it.

“Oh…”

As you untie the apron, the ‘funcle’ turns back to his brother.

“Sheesh bro, you’ve known her for five minutes and you’re already getting her to cook for you?” he jokes, but winces and ducks out of the way from a lame, half hearted slap from Miguel. Gabi giggles at her father’s and uncle’s behaviour.

“Uncle Gabri, (Y/N) and I baked cupcakes. I’ve packed some for us to have later.”

“Oh fun! That could be our midnight snack or breakfast tomorrow- I’m kidding!”

Another duck from yet another slap from his brother.

Miguel’s extended hand that went in for a slap eventually landed on Gabriel’s shoulder and pats him firmly.

“Have fun - not too much fun though. Look after her-“ Miguel steps closer and speaks quietly, “any sign of trouble, call me. I don’t care what time it is…”

Gabri nods with an understanding expression on his face.

“Sure,” he replies before taking his niece’s bag and reaching out to take her hand.

“Be good mija,” Miguel says to his daughter before giving her a kiss and a cuddle.

“She’s an angel with me.” Gabriel retorts playfully, referring to their namesake causing Miguel to roll his eyes.

“Well, don’t forget what that makes me…” Gabi’s father folds his arms.

“Oh boy, come on Gabi, your father’s pulling the archangel Michael card again… he’s so predictable,” he drawls before grinning widely.

With a final duck from another pathetic slap attempt, Gabriel waves at you then to his brother when it’s safe to stand up straight again.

“Hopefully I’ll see you around (Y/N)! Nice to meet you!” he calls out.

You wave back with a smile.

“Nice to meet you too!”

With that, the two leave after Gabi waves goodbye to you too.

Silence fills the room momentarily.

“And then there were two…” Miguel comments as he saunters towards you causing your heart to flutter.

His gaze wanders over you and what you’re wearing. He stops walking when he reaches a comfortable distance between the two of you.

“Thanks for baking with Gabi. She was so excited about it. I just hope she wasn’t too much for you.”

“Are you kidding? I had a blast with her! You have the sweetest kid in the world.”

A slight blush accompanies a look of pride growing across his face.

“I’m glad you think so… it’s hard work being a single parent.”

“You’ve done a brilliant job, honestly.”

A flicker of sadness flashes across his face, but he blinks and clears his throat, denying the pain he still clearly feels for losing his wife.

“Well, now it’s just us two,” he says, refreshing his expression once again, making an effort to sound more chipper.

Miguel makes his way into the kitchen. Reaching into a cabinet, he takes out two wine glasses. After placing them on the countertop, he opens the wine chiller and takes out a bottle.

“Your brother seems like fun…”

“Oh, don’t encourage him. He’s insufferable if anyone inflates his ego.”

You snort. The sibling banter and bickering is something you totally adore.

The brothers look very similar too, except for the difference in hair colour. There’s some good, strong, handsome genetics at play there. However, you feel Miguel is the better of the two.

“Who’s the oldest?” you ask as you watch him begin to pour chilled white wine into the two glasses.

Miguel gives a toothy grin, making you assume that he’s the eldest brother. Which seems accurate. The older sibling being the more serious one, while the younger is funny and carefree.

You sit at the kitchen table while you watch Miguel start to cook dinner.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” you ask for possibly the fifth time already.

“I’m fine. You baked earlier, I cook,” he responds, speaking over the sizzling fillets of steak in the frying pan.

The scent of the cooking meat, marinade and spices permeates the air, causing your stomach to rumble when you smell it.

“What are we having for dinner again?” you ask before taking a sip of your cool, dry white wine.

“Carne Asada - a popular Mexican dish.”

You can understand why, it smelt incredible! While he cooks the steak, he also prepares fresh green vegetables, and potatoes drizzled in a vinaigrette. Just the thought of eating it makes you salivate.

“Dinner is served,” Miguel says a few moments later as he brings the plates to the table.

The food smells even better now it’s up close and directly under your nose.

“Do you enjoy cooking?” you ask him as he takes his seat opposite you.

“Yeah, when I have time for it. I don’t cook as much as I’d like to. But it’s enjoyable when I do.”

Taking your first mouthful is exquisite. The taste of the tender, juicy steak mixed with the spices and marinade danced across your tongue. You couldn’t help but moan, causing Miguel to double-take at you.

“Oh God. This is incredible!”

“That’s a first, I’ve never made someone moan with my cooking before,” he pauses as he considers something, “but I rarely entertain people so maybe that’s why.”

“Why’s that?”

“Just busy. Work life, single parent life, just hardly in the mood to entertain,” another pause, “it’s been great having you here today though. I’ve enjoyed it. It’d be nice to have you around again,” he says hopefully.

“Well, I feel honoured to be part of the lucky few you do entertain.”

Miguel snorts at your words.

“Lucky few? Lucky one.”

You should feel special about that. In normal circumstances you would. But you feel awful, that the one person he wants to invite over is the one person he really shouldn’t. Taking another mouthful, you try to hide your discomfort and guilt.

Indignation grows inside of you, bubbling away in your mind. You really like him. It seems like a cruel twist of fate that you’re enjoying getting to know the man you’re supposed to be spying on. The man who your boss has designs on eliminating. You absolutely despise the situation you’re in.

“I’m really touched, it’s so sweet that you’ve opened up your home to me, despite your regular commitments.”

Guilt is racking up in your mind exponentially. Parts of you are tempted to self sabotage, crumble in front of him and tell him the full reason why you agreed to visit him today. Maybe he won’t take it as badly as you expect? Or maybe he will? Would he offer you protection, if he wasn’t overwhelmed with the feeling of being betrayed? There is so much uncertainty, you decide to keep your mouth shut, despite the unbearable discomfort of the truth wanting to burst out of you.

The both of you continue to eat the delicious food together while maintaining a pleasant conversation. As time goes by, you start to feel contact as his leg finds yours under the table. It felt warm and inviting. You’re suddenly reminded of the intimate moments you shared on your date, triggering a blush to spread across your cheeks immediately. You both share a glance in silence. His tempting gaze tugs at your heart, enticing you to want him.

Just before you are totally ready to spring across the table and kiss him passionately, he moves to take the empty plates to the sink. He’s teasing you, you just know it.

“How about dessert?” he asks, chuckling slightly after seeing your growing indignation as he gets up from the table.

Maybe he wants you to give in and beg him to take you? But you’re stronger than that. You can play his game.

“Dessert sounds perfect.”

“I have strawberries. They’re nice and sweet.”

“I’d love some.”

He brings a bowl full of the juicy red fruit and sets it down on the table. But instead of taking the seat opposite, he now sits next to you, wearing a charming smile on his face. His radiating warmth, melting away your worries temporarily, replacing them with comfort.

The strawberries look sweet and succulent, probably grown in very fertile earth and in the perfect climate. You can only imagine how they’ll taste. You move to take one but his hand stops you. He shakes his head, that teasing stare returning.

“Let me, cariño,” he whispers.

You gulp as you squeeze your legs together. The anticipation is driving you wild.

Picking up a strawberry, he brings it to your lips.

“Careful, these can be very juicy. But they’re incredibly moreish.”

You take a bite, your teeth cutting into the flesh of the delicious fruit. Its sweetness delighting your tastebuds immediately. You manage to bite half of it, then watch in surprise as he eats the remainder.

“Oh my God, these are delicious.”

Miguel smiles at your reaction. He’s clearly enjoying setting the mood and upping the sexual tension.

“They are, aren’t they?"

He takes another; feeding you again, which you’re now very much willing to accept.

Each time he feeds you, he leans closer. It starts off subtle, but you suddenly notice when you feel his warm breath fan across your face.

The next strawberry is particularly juicy and full of flavour. You suddenly move to try and stop it from dripping from your lips but you squeal in surprise when he leans in, sealing his mouth on yours. His tongue makes sure that none of the sweet nectar from the fruit is wasted. A moan vibrates against your lips as he enjoys the taste of the fruit and your pretty mouth.

Putting the half eaten strawberry back down in the bowl, he scoops you up off your chair and carries you bridal style up the stairs to his bedroom.

***

A trail of clothes leads up to his bed. First are your shoes, then his. Next, your dress - he had to put you down for that. Then his shirt - which you assisted him in. Even closer to the bed are his trousers.

On the bed, your shaking legs are held wide open as he enjoys a different kind of nectar. Your nectar. Hanging from one ankle is your panties while he holds your legs in place, his tongue, teasing, licking and flicking your sensitive bud and your dripping pussy. Lapping hungrily at your nether region as if he hadn’t just eaten dinner. Fingers digging into the soft, smooth flesh of your thighs as he enjoys eating you out. He lays flat on the bed with his head firmly between your legs. His eager hips grind sensually against the duvet and mattress.

He loves hearing your needy moans and your helpless little whimpers. Feeling your body shake and writhe only encouraged him to do it with even more conviction.

“Cariño, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since our evening out together,” he mumbles seductively after coming up for air.

You moan due to the absence of his mouth around your clit. His words are sweet and you love them, but they drag up yet more guilt within you. You wish he would just simply continue doing what he’s doing.

“Do you feel the same hermosa?”

From between your quivering thighs, his gaze meets yours in an intense but enticing manner. How can you resist that face?

“Of course I can’t stop thinking about you- Oh God!”

At the end of your reply, he goes back in for another round of licking and teasing, cutting your words off. You arch your back off of the bed as he resumes with fervour. He begins to groan as you notice his body moving more, his hips still grinding into the mattress.

“I-” he licks you, “want-” he sucks on you, “you-” he flicks you with his tongue, “cariño…” his words die out at the end as he leans back in again. The motions of his tongue feel even stronger this time. You squeal in delight as you can’t resist throwing your hands down to his gorgeous, brown, slicked back hair.

To add to the delightful sensations between your legs, you feel two fingers run up and down your sensitive folds, getting soaked with your arousal. Eventually they plunge in, twisting and pumping gently as he slowly pulls his mouth away from your swelling bud. Before you can complain, his thumb replaces his lips, pressing firmly and running in a circular motion.

“Are you on any birth control (Y/N)?” he asks, his voice ragged and full of lust.

You nod between heavy pants and loud moans of pleasure.

He shifts himself further up your body, his hand remaining in place between your legs. You get a taste of yourself as he presses his lips against yours in a passionate and heated kiss. A muffled groan enters your mouth from his, as his arousal starts to take over.

Slowly he got on his knees after breaking the kiss with you. Before you is an unforgettable sight. You knew he had a nice shape about him and there’d be some muscle definition. But this body in front of you is a body made by the Gods. His hands travelled to the top of his boxer briefs, a large bulge underneath catches your attention. You had a feeling that he was big from when you ground against it the other night, but not that big. Your legs squeeze together, wondering how the hell he’s going to fit.

As he pulls down the material of his boxer briefs, you finally see exactly how big he is. You couldn’t stop yourself from gasping.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim as you sit up on the bed, definitely squeezing your legs together.

Miguel chuckles as he tosses his boxer briefs aside and rests his hands on your shoulders. You feel him gently push you back, laying you down against his soft bed sheets.

“Relax (Y/N). We’ll go slow, I promise. You’ll be surprised at just how much you’ll be able to fit.”

Leaning down over the top of you, he begins to kiss your lips and slowly travels over your jawbone, down your neck to your collarbone. His fingers burrow underneath you and unclasps your bra, freeing your beautiful breasts for him.

“Such a beauty,” he whispers after stopping peppering your neck with kisses.

“Muy bonita…”

You feel him kiss your neck again, tenderly, gently and sweetly. His heat radiates down upon you, giving you that delicious melting sensation along your spine. The sheer weight and size of this man presses down into the mattress. On one hand, his build makes you feel safe and protected, but on the other, you feel in certain danger. What he ends up knowing about you will decide whether you’ll be locked in his secure embrace, or locked in a cold, dank cell.

“Can I take you as I am, or should I find a condom?” he murmurs against your neck; his voice, deep, heavy and full of desire. You can’t bear the thought of his hot, comforting body leaving you again to go looking for a condom, and you’re on the pill so you give him permission to enter you as nature intended.

Miguel’s large frame shifts again over you as he positions himself at your entrance. Your heart pounds as you feel he’s about to perform a magic trick - making his entire length disappear.

“I’ll go slow…” he assures you as the large head of his cock kisses your entrance.

With a nod in response, you tell him it’s okay to proceed. Slowly, he pushes into you. Your whole body tenses and your breath hitches at the gradual invasion. As promised; he’s gentle, slow and tender. Pausing occasionally, allowing you to stretch around his long, thick throbbing shaft. Making it easier for you to accommodate him.

He pushes forward even further. Unable to resist, you close your eyes as you take even more. He’s right, you are surprised by just how much of him you’re taking.

Small, dainty fingers graze his sides, causing his body to jolt slightly at your tickling touch. You hear a deep throaty groan spilling from his lips, prizing your eyes open, you observe his brows furrowing with blissful pleasure, which in turn makes you lose your composure.

He’s inside you, his panting breath fans over your face while his strong arms cage you underneath him. Those handsome eyes turn you into mush as you return his gaze.

“You’re taking me so well, cariño,” he praises you, drawing his cock almost all the way back out again. Your jaw drops as you suddenly feel empty. That is soon remedied however as he starts once more, slowly pushing back in, but a fraction faster this time.

“Aah! Miguel!” you call out in pleasure as he fills you again, stretching your warm, needy pussy.

You find that you love his praise, especially when he whispers it to you so close to your ear. His warm breath spreads tingles like wildfire all over your body.

As you wrap around his eager length, your limbs cling onto him as if you’re holding on for dear life. He smirks down at you as he watches you adjust, however he feels both his and your body are now demanding for something a bit faster paced.

Gradually, his tempo speeds up while he adds grinding against your clit into the mix. The charming smirk spreads wider as he observes you melt further into the bed, crying out for more.

“You feel so good and you’re doing so, so well.”

His praise takes it all to the next level. You feel you can take him even faster and at a greater intensity.

“Fuck me M-Miguel!” you splutter with urgency in your voice.

“You want me to fuck you cariño?”

“Yes - please!”

“Tell me to stop at any time if it gets too much.”

You watch his jaw clench, his muscles tense and you hear a grunt; just as he gives an almighty thrust. Drawing almost all the way out, he slams back into you. Your body immediately responds. Every single nerve ending ignites. All muscles tense. Your lungs suddenly draw in a sharp intake of air.

“Miguel!” you moan loudly.

He’s pounding into you, pumping his dick hard and fast in and out. A sex fueled haze fogs your mind as you become drunk on the pleasure of his shaft penetrating you.

“That’s it cariño, call out my name…” he purrs with heavy lidded eyes.

You repeat as he maintains his punishing thrusts. Each time you cry out his name, he moans and tilts his head back. His name spilling from your lips is like music to his ears.

He feels so good inside of you that you never want him to leave. It’s like he’s filling a piece of you that you didn’t know was missing. Watching him on top of you, dominating you, fucking you made you wish this moment would last forever. At this moment, you’re not spying on him, you’re not betraying him, you’re not working for the opposition. The world around you is reduced to nothing, everything else other than you two is insignificant.

Miguel’s grunts signifying his intense effort fogs your mind further, his moans of pleasure builds that tightening in your core. You’re clenching around his cock, you’re close.

“Fuck, hermosa. Cum for me- Oh fuck!”

You both erupt with pleasure as you climax. His thrusts slow but they deepen inside you. Lowering his body, he presses himself against you, seeking that blissful contact with your skin. His hot and heavy breaths fan and caress against your face and neck as you cry out his name multiple times. Your bodies glisten with sweat after the intense lovemaking session.

The sound of sweet and tender kisses fill the air as the afterglow sets in. He remains inside, but you notice he’s gradually softening. An undeniable and sad ache fills your core knowing that he’ll be departing you soon and reality will return.

He draws himself out of you, sparking a sob you didn’t know you had in you to erupt and tears well in your eyes.

Immediately his brows furrowed with concern.

“Cariño? Que pasa?”

His hands cup under your chin as he monitors you.

And now the lying begins… The stress of doing what Kingpin is asking of you is rising higher inside you. But you can’t tell Miguel that.

“I’m sorry,” you sob again. “It felt too good. I didn’t want it to end.”

It isn’t exactly a lie. You really didn’t want it to end. It felt incredible and it was a perfect distraction from reality.

Laying next to you, he pulls you into his arms, positioning you half on top of him.

“You had me worried, cariño. Never have I ever made a girl cry during or just after sex. I’m just glad it’s good crying.”

His hand plays with your hair idly as has your head resting against his perfectly chiselled chest.

“Heh… yeah… good crying…” you reply.

The comforting sound of his heart beating in your ear starts to calm your nerves. You feel soothed as he strokes your hair.

“Well, I guess it’s encouraging in a way. It means you want more.”

A tired smile breaks across your face as your fingertips wander over his chest and abs.

“I definitely do want more.”

The mafia man kisses the top of your head delicately.

“Your wish is my command, just say the word.”

***

That evening, the dark of the night shrouds Fisk tower. Lights still illuminate a handful of windows at that late hour. One of the lit windows is Kingpin’s, right at the very top.

The large mafia boss paces his room as one of his staff gives him some news.

“We’ve tried getting hold of Russell several times in the last few days, there’s no response. We think he’s been taken by O’Hara.”

Fisk slams his hands down on the desk angrily. Frustration builds inside him. Yet another disappearance, but this time it’s one of his own men and not someone from Alchemax. He supposed it didn’t take O’Hara long to work out who was behind the abduction attempt. It’s clear that someone who works for the opposition’s leader is talented at tracking people down.

“Damnit!” he seethes.

“Any word on Mr. Garcia?”

“No news on his whereabouts sir, however, what confuses us about him is that his wife has also gone missing.”

A deep frustrated sigh vents from Fisk’s lips. Staring into the distance he tries to solve the puzzle himself. The names of the missing people from Alchemax circles in his mind. The name O’Hara also starts to ring a distinct bell. His eyebrows rise slightly as an idea strikes him.

“Fetch me a folder labelled 2099 from the archives,” Kingpin demands, his voice a deep growl.

----------

Part 5

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starsinmylatte · 7 months

Note

Hiiii I just recently discovered your blog and omg your writing is so good?? Damn I’m impressed

Idk if you’re taking requests, if not just take this as a general ask, but I’m obsessed with the idea of Silco and a reader who is like a mother to Jinx after I read that “soft” (i think that was the name?) fic… and I was wondering, how do you think it would get to that point? Surely it must’ve been hard for Silco to accept that this woman would just come into the last drop demanding to see his little devil of a daughter and taking care of her… enemies to lovers much? Anyway… just wanted to hear what are your thoughts in how they would come around to become a couple

Ooooh, thank you so much for reaching out, my darling anon!! I appreciate your sweet compliment so much. It made me smile so much during my crappy week 💜

I’d love to write a longer piece about this (and I absolutely will), so I’ll just leave you with a few thoughts for now!

Here's a link to the Soft fic mentioned in the ask! (it is absolutely NSFW, be warned) If you'd like to be added to my taglist for when I post the full thing, click here

Pairing: Silco x fem!reader

Warnings: None, really. This is SFW with the barest hint of suggestive content at the end

At some point, Silco realizes that he either needs to eliminate everyone from Jinx's past life or he needs to use them to connect with her. This strange, incredibly vexing woman is the strongest link to Jinx's past that she still has.

I'm sure that Jinx has a very hard time in the first few weeks after Silco's takeover. It's a struggle to get her to eat, bathe, and just generally take care of herself. She opens up to Silco some, but to his immense frustration that damned woman just keeps showing up and Jinx instantly calms for her.

Silco still has that choice to make. He can forbid the woman from returning (which she's very unlikely to agree to without force), outright get rid of her, or he can just accept her help and try to manage her involvement in Jinx's life.

I think Silco mulls it over quite a bit, especially when Jinx inevitably shuts him out, and he can't connect with her in any way. Killing the woman would be relatively simple, and maybe Jinx could move past the devastating loss, but he can't stop thinking about how his new daughter curls up in her arms.

Silco tells himself he's just being practical, and maybe he is, but the softness with which the woman holds Jinx is the first small chip in his armor towards her.

She does annoy the hell out of him, though, as the only person who can seemingly defy the most feared kingpin in the undercity. He also finds this more attractive than he'd care to admit, which makes him even more sour about the whole thing.

Meanwhile, the woman continues to just show up unannounced to The Last Drop. In an attempt to gain some form of control, Silco finally just snaps and tells her to come on two specific days of the week. Jinx cheers, the woman smiles at him, and Silco instantly realizes that was probably her plan all along. Damnit.

Continuing on with the soup idea from the fic, I think she and Jinx bake together a lot. Silco may have a hard time getting Jinx to eat at every other time, but the little girl absolutely devours anything the woman makes her.

She always leaves out a plate for Silco, which he doesn't eat after that first night. The first reason is because he's petty and still doesn't want to like the woman, and the second is because Jinx will eat the leftovers.

Sevika absolutely loves her, and so do the rest of Silco's staff because the woman has bribed gifted them all with homemade food. They all know her as a woman with a heart of gold who is fiercely protective of Jinx. She's not a threat Silco couldn't handle if he had to, but Sevika does derive some secret pleasure from how badly the incredibly lovely woman vexes her boss.

The first time Silco loses his temper at her in front of Jinx, the little girl cries, and the woman immediately brandishes a rolling pin at him. The sight makes Jinx break out into a small fit of giggles, and Silco just freezes and walks away, muttering under his breath.

Silco can't stop thinking about her, which frustrates him to no end. She's kind but will stand up to a drug kingpin with a fucking rolling pin, she loves his daughter like her own, and she's annoyingly good at cooking. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she stayed.....

I absolutely do think the more Silco realizes he actually likes the woman, the nastier he behaves towards her. He finds some way to rationalize it, but the truth is that he's trying to manufacture a reason to hate her.

I think it all comes to a breaking point one night after the woman puts Jinx to bed. Maybe the woman tries to make some gesture of goodwill towards Silco before she leaves, but he lashes out at her. It starts a yelling match between the two, and they start getting closer together as the argument grows more heated.......

And this is where I'll leave you ;)

#lyria responds #arcane silco #lol silco #silco arcane #silco imagine #silco #lyria rambles #arcane #silco x reader #silco x you #silco fanfic #arcane jinx #arcane netflix #zaun #arcane fic #arcane fanfic

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ursawastricked · 1 year

Text

The Glimmering Pearl

Silco x f!reader Moulin Rouge inspired fan fiction

The Dens Delight, a nightclub, one tucked between the undercut of Zaun and its sister city of Piltover, is the secret delight of the rich and poor of Runeterra. The call of loud swing music, the smell of cheap booze, and the warmth of the dens dancers draw in crowds by the hundreds every night, in attempts to lure them into spending.

You call this place home, it loves you like its daughter, and you take comfort knowing that the people love you just as much. That doesn't change that tonight,,you meet him. The eye of Zayn, the kingpin of the undercut,,and he might just be your ticket out of here.

warnings for fic: Drinking, lewd behavior, night club activity in general

word count: 3,289

total wordcont: 3,289

Silco found little joy in places like this. Despite The Drop's atmosphere of bright lights, loud music, drugs, thugs, and alcohol all surrounding him in most of his day to day life, he at least had the luxury of it being muted beneath his office. It didn't bite him like it did here. The sickeningly intense stretch of “rose” perfume stung his nose, and the booze sprinkled about on the floor and patrons stung the rest of his senses as he fought his way through the sea of under city patrons that flocked to places such as this when they needed to feel worth something.

Perhaps it wasn't his scene, but for Finn it was like home ground, which would be the only reason Silco had crawled here to begin with. With him he dragged some extra hands, but found that they too had quickly been washed away in a sea of drunkards, or pulled away by half clothes workers, each one's skirt a differnt brightly colored pattern to draw the attention of whomever had money to spend.

That is what made this place so aggravating. It wasn't like the brothels, those at least held some class in Silcos opinion. At places like Babbettes, attention was requested, then provided, it wasn't demanded, it did not result from a sudden “mis-step” that landed a women lewdly in your lap, or sneaking hands of a pretty face taking inappropriate hold on someone to weasel them into spending hard earned coin. He didn't worry about randomly spilling cheap beer on his silk vest, nor did he have to worry about them then offering to take it off for him. Simply put, he wasn't having fun. He wasn't enjoying the festivity filled floor below, packed not only with thousands of Pilties, desperate for depravity despite them sharing the house with Aunties who too had ventured here for that reason. He less enjoyed that now as he finally found sanctuary in a box seat above, that he could see Sevika, sitting back in a plush armchair, a lady hiking up her peacock colored skirt in his muscles lap, and as she would put it “Having friendly conversation”.

He grumbled lightly, offering a light from Finn as he sat finally. He accepted the silent offer, tucking a cigar between his lips and allowing the flames to lick at the end of the expense tobacco roll. He closed his eyes, another failed attempt to drown out the numbing sound of the ballroom below, as he inhaled a thick cloud of smog into his lungs. He held it for a moment of ease, letting it burn his throat and maybe even seer away the dreadful taste of whatever that wicked bartender considered ‘top shelf brandy’, before he willed himself to exhale the black smoke and let it ribbon away into the ceiling above. His good eye followed its path lazily, finding it curling around a collection of ropes and scaffolding tucked above the box seats and further toward what appeared to be the old placement of a chandelier. He wondered what monster had decided removing such a piece would make this palace look better, clearly a chandelier would vastly improve the facade of class in a place like this, but who was he to judge interior design. He was sure the random placement of ropes and wood made for a much better design choice, not to mention against an old classically crafted glass ceiling. Indeed, why would a chandelier be a valuable piece to keep.

His discomfort was quickly caught by Finn, who smirked at the rare entermainted of an uncomfortable and out of control Silco,“Is it too much for you, old man?" he taunted, flicking closed his lighter before snapping it open again, keeping in time with the current music. “I suppose after so many years, the sound of fun can be too much to bear.” he continued, leaning over the ledge and watching as workers danced about with unknowing citizens, unaware of how much each of those stolen kisses would cost them. “Perhaps you, Finn, confuse mindless noise for entertainment..” Silco snarled back, low, controlled. He tapped the ashes of his cigar into a provided bowl on the small table they were given.Finn only offered him a chuckle in response, shrugging off the large gold coat he had worn as he approched and placed himself into the opposite chair of Silco. “Mindless noise? Do you not hear the laughter? The singing of the entertainers?’ “The drunken howls, the croud whistles at the passing waitress, the belch of vomiting patrons…” Silco added bitterly, taking another deep breath of his chosen grounding tool tonight. Finn only stared back, aggravated quickly by the negativity. But to Silco, truth came in positives and negatives, if one side was to be ignored, then you were missing the picture. In this case, missing the picture of a loud, over decorated, overrated, and overly fancy club, one that looked pretty to hide the shady work it openly offered. The two watched each other's expression for a long moment, as two predators would in a territorial competition, who could remain standing their ground longer. But it was Finn who broke the silence first, rolling his hand over the table as he reached for his empty glass and held it up in signal to the standing by server. “I must admit, I had hoped for at least a little down time with you, Silco. Perhaps a meeting that doesn't require a rehearsed debate over the constant work and stress of running our little empire,” he began, maintaining their locked gaze as the server approached and poured a generous amount of amber liquid into Finn's waiting glass. He gestured for Silco to have his glass filled as well, before dragging it to his lips and letting it pass over his tongue during the pause in speaking.

“My empire..you still find yourself in the habit of forgetting where you come from. Where I came from.” Silco sneered, not given the courtesy of a glance to the server as they filled his glass and retreated back behind the curtain.

“Again with the age debate, ‘remember our lives before’, ‘the mines from which we came’, It is always your age that defends your power Silco..and I had just told you, I had hoped for down time with you.” Finn reminded him, placing down his glass with a soft ‘tink’.

Silco rolled his eyes slowly, taking his own glass and leaning back in the seat he had. He felt much more at ease then he would like to admit when the liquor passed his scared lip and spread over his tongue. He was elated to taste actual brandy, not the gasoline he had been fed not thirty minutes ago when he had first arrived. The flavor was rich, a velvety, warm taste, the whispers of the imported fruits it was made with still ghosted into each drop as he swallowed and let the liquid warm his belly, further drawing him into a more comforting position in this prison he found himself in. Embarrassingly enough, it had tamed him enough to cease the fight against Finn and just relax into his seat.

“Besides, the show tonight is one I think is best enjoyed when you have only her to focus on.” Finn cooed, reclining and gazing off into the crowd below. Silco took another blissful sip, considering the words Finn had said without much worry. Yes, this place was well known for its exotic performances, dancers, singers, usually half clothed like the rest of them. But now, with a drink in his hands, smoke in his lungs, and the sound of music slowing down, he welcomed whatever performance was interesting enough to catch Finn's attention as often as it seemed too. Let the show begin,

“Im sure.” he hummed, in reply, closing his eyes and clutching to the comfort of good brandy and an expensive cigar.

Another thirty minutes passed, Sevika arriving back beside Silco, dragging along the peacock lady and sitting her comfortably on her knee as she resumed her guard over the kingpin. He offered her a nod of acknowledgment, earning a satisfied nod back from her, enough of one that he had noticed the smudge of lipstick across her cheek and further down her neck.

He lifted his glass back to his lips before he saw the light dim, and following it immediately was the hush of the loud music, the hush of patrons and the awful howls of laughing girls. He followed all their gaze, to the lowering figure from the ceiling. Above the world, like a bird descending, a swing lowered just level with the box seats where the eye of zaun had found himself. Perched on the seat was a figure, one he had not quite expected. You. You sat above the crowd, your eyes closed tentatively as you held tight to the ropes connected to your seat. You held your breath, still finding your breath a bit constricted by the tight costume they had pulled you into tonight. It was a torturous thing, tight, stiff with what must have been a thousand false pearls, expertly patterned to trace your figure and accentuate your curves. You cross your legs expertly, earning a whistle from below and giving you a little boost of confidence. You straighten your back, take in a deep breath and start your usual performance.The silence breaks with a silk like voice, one Silco didn't expect as the swing slowly sways, and allows for the limited light to shimmer off the pearls stitched to your costume. His gaze locked first onto the tall black heel you wore, but slowly trailed up long legs, to the start of your costume just above your hip, and dragging slowly to your shoulders. But what broke the facade of his disinterest was when you suddenly dip your head back, catching his gaze in yours and revealing the face behind the vision he had been blessed with, as you reached out a hand toward the booth, and the swing slowly began to swing, descending down into the crowd below. His heart raced at the limited eye contact, and he found himself now like Finn, leaned closer to the edge of the box, chasing you to keep your figure in his sights as the music swelled slowly around the hall, reaching its peak when your heel clicked too the floor and you stood at the center of it all. The center of a once chaotic hell scape, had ceased and created a pool from which this divine thing could fully shine, and he was enraptured. This was entertainment indeed. Especially as your voice rang through the sound and your feet followed a practiced little prance around the crowd grabbing playfully at random from time to time and dragging them into your next little move before abandoning them in favor of another. You held the entire hall in the palm of your hand, those not too awestruck to speak offering your whistles, howls, and the occasional help in the song. You chuckle as you allow for a lucky customer to dip your weight, teasingly snatching his cap and placing it on your head for safe keeping. You leave his head spinning and Silco finds a light smile on his scarred lip as you step away, leaving everyone around you chasing your touch, one he imagined was heavenly based on how the other visitors clamored for a chance at it. He rested his glass against his lips as you retreated back to your swing, standing on it with a tight grip on the flimsy ropes before it lifted you again in the air. “Quite the show isn't it, Silco?” Finn murrmered on, stealing a peak at how Silco had become so focused after spitting so much distaine for this place earlier. Silco chuckled lightly, feeling just as relaxed as Finn insisted he be tonight, humming a quick “mhm”, and inhaling a deep breath of smoke. You smiled teasingly at the patrons that flooded where you once stood moments ago, spreading your stance a little for balance as you began to lean back and let the swing move carefree above them, using enough force so that the trajectory of it had began to circle and allow you a to give those in the boxes a bit of a closer look as you. Janna, this always felt so good, yes the height was a little frightening, but the way the people flocked to you, around you, starved for any glimmer of your attention, you felt like a god among them. But as always, the best part of a performance was engaging the audience, and you had been looking out all night for people to play with. About an hour ago you had been doing one final walk around before being dressed, when your eyes caught something particularly interesting moving through the club. A familiar Burgundy colored coat that swept over the dance floor and up the stairs into Finn's box. He was a regular, one you had a few run-ins with in the past, the occasional dance, invitations to his bed after a paid for “chat”, all of which you had politely declined. It wasn't in your best interest to leave the club with patrons after all, you were higher class then that, The Glimmering Pearl of the undercity. But this not so mystery guest, he was more your interest tonight. A ‘big catch’ as your den mother would put it. So you pulled your swing back, aiming directly for that box, and swinging back and propelling yourself toward the balcony. You hooked your legs over the lip of the ledge, sitting yourself nice and pretty in front of a very startled Eye of Zaun. He stared, dumfounded, the snicker of his accompanying crowd. How delightful, the king of the undercity, positively flustered at your sudden appearance. You could swear there was a hint of pink appearing across his skin, through it could just be the lights. You offer him a sly smile, tilting your head and kicking a foot up to rest the tip of your heel just under his jawline. He stared forward, completely enchanted as the satin of your shoe dragged against his skin, causing him to involuntarily lean forward into it. His eyes met yours finally, half lidded, hazey with a building desire as your heel was now placed on his shoulder. It was an easy transition to slip off the ledge slightly, and push more of your weight into his chair as you rested your one leg other his shoulder and leaned close enough to truly see if it was the lighting that resulted in that exquisite rosey color in his cheeks..it was to your excitement, not a trick of the light. “Good evening, I do hope I didn’t startle you” You hummed, drawing your hand to your chest dramatically, feigning apologetic.Silcos good eye caught the movement effortlessly, taking a moment to admire how the lace of your gloves looked against your skin tone. Only then did he flick his mismatched gaze to yours, ignoring that his face was warmer then he would have liked. You looked into the infamous gaze, finding yourself a bit frozen when the burning orb of his bad eye focused itself on you, a gaze that had often resulted in the blood-spill of maybe thousands. It made you nervous, but quickly you tried to psyche yourself back up, back to flirting, maybe earn a little favor from the royal head of the undercity. “I can’t say I mind,” he replied, training his gaze on you before putting his half finished cigar to his cracked lip, maintaining eye contact as he took a long inhale. Despite your expertise in this, the game of flirtation, you held your breath. It was caught in your throat like you were preparing for something that wasn't coming, and you weren't able to hide it before he had seen it. The roll in his mouth escaped its hold, and you failed to keep your eyes seedy, as they had now locked on his mouth. Silco cracked a half smirk, titling his head back to exhale the long cloud of smog from his lungs. It was an offered opening, one you hastily took to breath and return to your usual practice routine. You were able to bring back your coy smile, and bring your hands to his tie. You played with it between your fingers, as you expected it was fine silk. With a little smirk, you went with your usual game, loosening it before pulling it away from his throat. You waved it in front of his face,“I expect that back Madame,” he hummed, catching Finn's far too satisfied smirk in the corner of his eye. You giggle lightly, “Well,” as you drag the fabric over your chest, causing Silco to squirm lightly in his seat beneath you. Far more in your element now that you had an in, you tuck the scarf into your cleavage and push your weight back onto the ledge, “I expect i will be seeing you again then.” You tease, watching the hint of challenge in his good eye as you turn and give Finn a fast wink of acknowlagment, waving a little goodbye before you were back on your swing, being pulled back by gravity far away from the Eye of Zaun. As you vanish and drag the warmth in his lap away, Silco gives a disappointed sigh, watching you fly off with his scarf..He breathed in the last breath of his dying cigar before tapping it out in the ashtray. To his left, he can see Finn's stupid smirk still plastered on his artifical jaw.

“How much did it cost you?” Silco asked, refusing to give him anymore for the question, he didn't plan to disrupt his viewing experience just to address a constant thorn in his side. “Not a single coin.” Finn purred, leaning forward to follow you in time with Silco. Silcos raised his eyebrows lightly, trying to hide it, fruitlessly. It wasn't a feeling he would have admitted too, the burning feeling igniting deep in his chest, in the pit of his stomach, the top of the flames licking at his heart. You land again on the ground floor, enveloped almost immediately by the crowd of waiting fans, allowing light touches, lifts, and dips as you make your way to the stage. You strut, trying to keep up your sultry energy, lips softly pursed, eyes lidded, but you struggle as you fight away the growing heat in your cheeks, you try to convince yourself it's all the action. As you huff in a deep breath, tiptoeing up the stairs and clicking your heels loudly on the stage with a loud hollar into the crowd. Silco feels a hum deep in his chest as the sound echoes into him, and his pupils dilate. You give a few playful steps back, up the further stage steps into the feather like bed at the back with a deep call of your final verse. You lay down your weight, flirtatiously flicking your leg over. “MMMwah!” You call, with a dramatic kiss thrown into the crowd. You pull out your stolen scarf from your cleavage, waving it playfully toward Silco, whom you are pleased to see, just as focused as before. You feel the burn in your cheeks win, just as the curtains flutter closed in front of you, and you feel the heat finally reach you, the heat of that single burning eye that now knows about you. Your way out of here.

Yippie! my first big fic!

I really enjoyed working on this one, and I hope to write a part two if it goes well.

If you enjoy for would like more please lmk, I'm finding for pretty Silco content

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