I'm Spider-Man (MCU)

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The dimly lit room was filled with tension as Peter and Wade, clad in their blacked-out suits, stood across from Sergei, the cowering naked Mob Boss.

Sergei was still strapped to the bed, the fear evident in his eyes as he unleashed a barrage of threats and warnings. "Get back! Do you know who I am? Touch me and your entire bloodline won't survive the night!" He attempted to assert his authority even in the face of danger.

Wade chuckled, seemingly unaffected by Sergei's desperate words.

With swift precision, he drew his Katanas and plunged them into the bed, just centimeters away from Sergei's exposed private parts.

The sharp blades sent a clear message that Sergei wasn't in control right now.

Instantly, Sergei's blustering facade crumbled, and he began to realize that his threats were only hurting his already dire situation.

Wade, his mask still on, listened intently, relishing the power he had over this guy's balls.

(A/N: He really is a sick freak, isn't he?🤨)

"Hey! I heard that!" Wade peered up at the ceiling and shouted, sounding offended.

"Who are you talking to?" Peter asks, wondering if this was one of his 4th wall breaks.

"Nothing..." Wade clicked his tongue as he turned back to their captive. 'Fat f*ck author...'

(A/N: I'm big boned...😢)

"Look, ill give you anything. Do you want money? I have millions. Just let me go and it's all yours, okay?" Begging for mercy, Sergei offered anything he could think of to secure his survival.

As well as the safety of his precious family jewels.

"How can I refuse your generous donation!" Wade happily accepted as he took a seat at the man's bedside.

However, before he would accept any kind of offering, Wade knew he needed answers. Removing his mask, he revealed his scarred face and cold eyes, ensuring that Sergei understood the gravity of the situation.

"Why did you want me dead?" Wade demanded, his tone laced with a dangerous edge.

He made sure the Katanas remained in place, serving as a constant reminder of the pain Sergei would face if he refused to cooperate.

Sergei's eyes darted nervously, not recognizing Wade as the target he was tasked to eliminate by Wilson Fisk.

"W-What happened-" Sergei quickly stopped himself and rephrased his question. "I mean, who are you?"

"Wade Wilson." He reveals his name. "You sent your men to my house... They're dead by the way. I'll send you the bill for the mess they made."

Immediately, fear washed over Sergei, torn between the danger posed by these intruders and the repercussions he would face from his own boss.

Just the thought of Fisk tightened his lips, unsure whether to remain silent or divulge the information he possessed.

As Wade continued to press Sergei, veiled threats barely contained, the mob boss relented. "L-Look, if I talk, I'm in big trouble..." He offered a cryptic hint, making the two wonder who wielded enough power to silence him like this.

Sergei knew his life hung in the balance, but he also knew that revealing too much could lead to dire consequences.

If he talks now, Kingpin will kill him. And if he doesn't talk, then these masked men will probably kill him as well.

Both roads lead to death and he couldn't do anything about it.

While the conversation unfolded, Peter seized the opportunity to investigate further.

Snatching Sergei's phone, he deftly scrolled through the most recent calls and contacts, hoping to uncover evidence of the person responsible for ordering the hit on Wade.

Every passing second was crucial as they sought to untangle the web of intrigue surrounding them.

Just as Peter began to find valuable information, the sound of a gunshot echoed through the room.

Startled, he turned to witness Wade holding his smoking desert eagle, a lifeless Sergei sprawled on the bed.

Shock registered on Peter's face as he realized the missed opportunity to extract more information.

"You should have kept him alive, You Idiot." Peter chastised, his disappointment palpable. "He knew more than he was saying."

Wade shrugged nonchalantly, his annoyance evident. "He outlived his usefulness. Besides, he almost killed Vanessa. He deserved a lot worse."

Peter sighed, recognizing Wade's impulsive nature.

Returning to the phone, Peter went to Sergeis calls and tapped on the most recent number, which called him only 15 minutes ago.

'Suspicious...' Peter thought as the phone began to ring.

"What are you doing?" Wade asks as Peter held his finger to his masked lips, motioning for him to keep quiet as he turned on the speakerphone.

"Sergei?" A deep raspy voice answered. "Is the job done? Is he dead?"

"?!" Wade reacted quickly and snatched the phone out of Peter's hand.

"Hello? Sergei?" Fisk called out over the receiver, irritated.

Wade grinned beneath his mask, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the voice. "Well, hello there, buttercup," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't worry about little old Sergei, your underling didn't suffer for too long."

As a former member of New York City's underworld, Wade has taken a few jobs from Kingpin, so he could at least recognize the voice.

Though he doesn't know the Kingpins real name or what he looks like.

And as he found out who was behind his death order, Wade realized what this was about. "So, you're still mad about that time in the Bronx, huh? It's been almost 4 years, you know? Most people would have moved on by now."

"Moved on?!" Fisk nearly shouted from the other end, understanding exactly who he was talking to right now. "Not only did you protect the target I paid you to kill, but you even killed my men when they came to do the job that you couldn't."

"Well, I told you no kids." Wade shrugged as he spoke. "So, Mr. Big Shot Kingpin, how about we have a little chat? I'd love to meet up in person. Somewhere private. Just you and me." He offered, threateningly.

Kingpin's voice grew cold and menacing. "You have no idea who you're dealing with..."

"Oh, I know exactly who I'm dealing with." Wade shot back, his tone growing more serious. "You wanted me dead, and you put my fiancé's life at risk. Now it's time for you to bend over and take your punishment like a man."

A sigh crept through the receiver as Kingpin spoke. "Have a good night, Wade. And make sure to keep that fiancé of yours safe. New York is a very dangerous city, after all."

"Suck a fat c*ck! Toodles!" Wade replied cheerfully as the call came to an end.

"Who was that?" Peter asked, feeling as though the voice was familiar.

"Kingpin." Wade reveals as Peter's eyes widen in realization. "He's a big player in this city. I've taken a few jobs from him in the past. The last one ended in a small disagreement..."

———————————————

A man in his mid twenty's stood at the entrance of the gate to K'un-Lun, his gaze unwavering as he guarded its mystical barrier.

Standing at an average height, his athletic build exuded a sense of agility and strength honed through years of intensive martial arts training.

His face bore traces of his arduous life, with a rugged handsomeness that spoke of both resilience and determination. His complexion, kissed by the sun, boasted a healthy glow that hinted at his time spent in the secluded city of K'un-Lun.

Deep, piercing blue eyes shimmered with a mix of curiosity and a hint of sorrow, reflecting the weight of his responsibilities and the losses he had endured.

[Insert picture of Danny Rand here]

The air was still, the only sound being the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.

The gate, a monumental structure of ancient stone, stood imposingly before him. It had been fifteen years since he had last witnessed its opening on the day he arrived, and he had grown accustomed to the solitude of his duty.

As he stood there, lost in his thoughts, a hawk suddenly soared across the sky, catching Danny's attention. His eyes followed its graceful flight as it disappeared into the distance.

A sense of anticipation surged within him, as he knew that the hawk was leaving K'un-Lin.

The gate was open again!

The rare event was about to occur, and he had a fleeting opportunity to leave his post and venture out into the world beyond.

Danny's hand tightened as his fist began to glow in a yellow light, his mind racing with conflicting emotions.

He had spent his entire life training and preparing for this moment, dedicated to protecting K'un-Lun from any threat that may come through the gate.

Yet, a part of him yearned for something more—a chance to explore the outside world and find his purpose beyond the confines of the mystical city.

A solemn smile tugged at the corners of Danny's mouth as he slowly turned his back to K'un-Lun, his eyes lingering on the gate one last time. "Farewell..." he whispered, his voice filled with both gratitude and sorrow.

With a decisive step forward, he began his journey, following the hawk's path.

...

..

.

Days later, Danny stood on the deck of a large freight ship. The wind blowing his dirty blonde hair as he stood tall, his bare feet planted firmly on the metal deck.

He continued to wear the simple attire of a monk, a testament to his dedication and training in K'un-Lun.

His gaze was fixed on the vast expanse of the open sea, endless possibilities stretching out before him.

The rhythmic rocking of the boat brought a sense of calm to Danny's spirit. He closed his eyes, embracing the tranquility of the moment.

The boat sailed steadily onward, carrying him toward his new destiny.

...

..

.

Finally, the iconic skyline of New York City appeared in the distance.

Danny's eyes widened with a mix of nostalgia and excitement.

The boat slowly approached the bustling harbor, its engines humming in the background.

With each passing moment, the anticipation within him grew stronger.

Danny took a deep breath, savoring the scent of the city he had longed to return to for so many years.

The boat came to a halt, and he stepped onto the dock, feeling the solid ground beneath his feet.

As he took his first steps toward the towering skyscrapers, a sense of familiarity washed over him, a sense of belonging.

He looked up at the cityscape, the shimmering glass and steel reflecting the sun's rays. "I'm finally home," Danny murmured, a sense of purpose radiating from his every word.

A/N: 1774 words :)

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