[3RD Person POV]
A soft groan escaped {Y/N}'s mouth as he slowly opened his eyes. "What am I going to do? what am I going to do?!" a familiar voice said, causing {Y/N} to slowly turn his head to look. There he saw an obviously panicking Petra, who was still in her red and blue spandex outfit, pacing back and forth in the room. Her hair was messy and some her suit still had soot and dust from when the bomb went off. Slowly, the tall male began to sit up, catching the attention of Petra.
"A-are you okay?" she asked, looking you over with caution as she seemed a little on edge. She began to feel his head, trying to find any bumps or scratches she may have left. "What the hell is going on Petra?" {Y/N} asked, gently brushing her hands away. The spider-clad woman visibly tensed up before sighing, leaning back against the desk in her room. She crossed her arms over her chest and began to think over her words carefully. "About a year ago I got bit by a spider" she mumbled, looking down on the floor, "and I developed these powers." Petra didn't look up as she let out a soft sigh.
"I later became Spider-Woman and eventually met pretty, handsome boy that moved in" she hummed, chuckling softly before realizing what she had said. Her face darkened as {Y/N} blushed softly, though chose to ignore those words, for now. "So, this entire time you were either out sick or had been late was because of your hero gig?" {Y/N} asked, earning a nod from Petra. A soft hum escaped {Y/N}'s lips as he slowly stood up. He was honestly surprised by this, but he didn't really show it.
He began to leave the room, only to be stopped by Petra shooting a web at his hand right as he grabbed the door knob. "You have to promise not to tell anyone" she said, putting on a stern voice as she lowered her hand. {Y/N} only smiled, looking over to Petra as he leaned against the door. "Fine, but you have to swing me around the city some time" he said, only earning a blush from Petra, who agreed with what he was saying. Soon, {Y/N} left the room, going back to his. 'Note to self; don't go after Spider-Woman anymore' he thought to himself.
***
A day had passed and Black Mask was getting more and more pissed off with his goons. Fisk only watched as Mask took out his anger on some goons, punching them until they are bloody. "Maybe my last request was too mired in subtlety," Mask said, kicking one of his henchmen in the chest as he was down on the ground coughing blood, "I want this Red Hooded freak dead. And when I say 'dead,' I mean seriously dead. Beaten, broken. His-head-mounted-on-my-wall kind of dead!"
Some of the remaining goons that were still standing seemed to glance at each other, not wanting to say much until one spoke up. "Understood, we'll be taking further precautions at transaction--" one of them began to say, but was stopped by a sucker punch to the face. "We should hurt him first" Fisk said, finally speaking up. Mask panted as he seemed to be done with his act of violence. "What do you suggest?" Mask muttered, sitting down in a chair. "We take out whomever he is associated with" Fisk muttered, slamming his fist down onto the table as Mask grinned, coming up with an idea.
***
Late that evening, three cars pulled up outside of a sleazy nightclub. Men wearing leather and denim jackets stepped out, all of them holding guns. They entered the club; gunshots could be heard from outside. When the shooting died down, a badly beaten and bloody male fell backwards into a rusted car, groaning as he looked up at his attackers.
"Do you guys know who the hell you are dealing with?!" the bloody male said in anger as two assault rifles were aimed at his head. "You're Felix Thompson," the brown-haired thug said, their partner looking out for any other rivals. "A fat lowlife who runs a nightclub and one of the larger drug operations in the city" the other goon said while smiling to himself. "Watch it you damn grunts-" Felix began to say before being punched. "Manners, fatty. I don't care who takes care of you. You watch your mouth."
