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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 4 months

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Wait im sorry if like youve talked about this before but what is everyones roles in the fantasy au 👁️👁️ or jobs?

i've just Thought Aloud in bits and pieces but hey. i feel like talking today so i'll put it all in one place with Updated Thinkings

(i like to imagine that they all kinda Quit their initial jobs/lives to go adventuring with each other, either by choice or... not. except Howdy, who's a multitasking king). the Neighborhood party earns their wages by completing jobs/quests, though some of them have minor supplemental ways of adding to the coin collection

Wally, of course, didn't really have much of a Before. he didn't intend on becoming a warlock/wizard - that choice was kinda made for him by the circumstances of his existence. but Wally had to pretend to be a wizard for his own safety, and wizards have a sort of societal expectation to be Helpful and Magical and Wise and Existing For Public Service. so while Wally would have rather just been a painter, he's obligated to be a wizard - that's technically his role/job. within the Neighborhood party, he's a bit of a distance fighter/support! he doesn't really do the whole up-close / physical aspect of battle, though he technically knows how. He casts spells from afar, which tend to be widely benign. artsy little cantrips and inconveniences to make it harder for the enemy to fight. he's also a bit of a bloodhound - illusions don't trick him, he can "see" most magic, and he's really good at getting around unnoticed. if they're stuck somewhere, Wally can probably get them out

Barnaby's "job" before going adventuring with Wally - it started out as just the two of them! - was just working on the farm with Ms. Beagle, where he had been his entire life. Sure he'd sometimes do public performances/acts in town, which would earn him extra coin, but that was more of a paying hobby than anything (a paying hobby he will Continue) in the Neighborhood, he's... uh. their cheerleader? that's not entirely inaccurate! he's not big on combat or effort i'd reckon, so he prefers to just keep morale high. offer background music, funny commentary, jokes to lighten the mood, mediate tensions, etc. if necessary, he makes good backup - he has his illusions of course, and he Does pack a mighty punch if need be! he's also very helpful when retreating - he can grab the smaller party members and run

Wormie is the group mascot <3

Sally was a bit lost before joining the party - i like to think that she was constantly on the move as part of a traveling theater troupe, but she wasn't the star or director. she was just part of the group, uninspired and with a full well of untapped potential. one day she up and left (dramatically) to find her own inspiration/muse & path to stardom, which ended up being several years of wandering until she happened across the budding Neighborhood and went "this! this will be the source of my stories!" as for her role, she's a bit of an everyman. front lines fighter, entertainer, mediator, etc. she views herself as the party "leader", or rather, their Manager. she keeps the party entertained with stories, and bolsters their reputation in the same manner. in a battle she's a bit of a powerhouse - her light magic is useful both in combat and entertainment! she keeps a "book" of the Neighborhood's exploits (she swears it will be edited/published someday) holy shit she's moominpappa, and in their Extended downtime she writes and throws plays inspired by their adventures at their home base (town).

Eddie was still, originally, a mailman. or i suppose in a fantasy setting - a courier! until one day he saw a group of people being attacked by some bandits, managed to fight them off, and immediately got roped into helping rescue the folks' entire town from the bigger group of bandits. then they told others about Eddie's help, they wanted his help too, one thing after another and now he's got a full set of armor, a sword, a shield, and his whole thing is saving people. huh? how did that happen? he was delivering letters a month ago! if i had to give him a title... i'd say he's a Protector! he seems like the type! he always has his fellow adventurer's backs - i bet he has his hands full trying to cover everyone at once. outside of combat, he's still very helpful and does whatever is asked of him / needed. collecting firewood! pitching tents! stirring soup! getting Frank to remove a centipede from camp! in downtime he probably takes small bodyguarding gigs. he also is a minor healer - he took some sorta oath for some sorta god (or virtue) that he can't remember, but he has minor healing/cleansing powers. he's also good at sniffing out evil & dark magic! some would joke that he's the party's guard dog

Frank was raised in a monastery that believes in "using your body to fight for the greater good". this was not his job when they became old enough to actually Act on his training! nah they ran away in his mid teens because they wanted to fight things on his own terms. also they want to study bugs more than anything, which he does! for a long time! then they meet a certain princess, befriends her, and helps her run away. he only joins the Neighborhood because Julie wants to, and it's a good way to travel - read: study more arthropods - and earn coin. fighting is a bonus aspect Frank's role is... front line fighter, bookkeeper, and the Guy Who Knows Things! what monster are they dealing with? what are its strengths/weaknesses? Frank probably knows! can they afford a room or two at an Inn? Frank knows (no, they cannot)! who's throwing themself into direct mortal danger with gusto? it's Frank! no but really, Frank is like their resident nerd who can beat pretty much all of them in hand-to-hand. in downtime he probably has a garden purposefully full of plants that can be left alone for long periods of time... maybe they sell half the things grown for extra coin!

Julie, of course, was a princess! that was her whole job! it was incredibly boring and restricting, so she ran away with the help of a funny nerd. after that her whole life was just "avoid getting recognized while figuring out how to live in a world without the comforts/ease of castle life". i'd think she much prefers her new one! as a role, Julie joins Barn and Sally in the "entertainment category". while they entertain with humor/stories respectively, Julie goes straight for games and activities to fill the lull between action. keep the blood pumping, spirits high, and bonds Solid! camp games, road games, locked-in-a-dungeon games! in combat, she's on the front lines with her oversized sword. i think another fitting role would be "navigator" - she can ask plants for directions! technically Julie is a secret powerhouse. her flora magic is insanely powerful, though she prefers not to use it for several reasons

Poppy, i like to think, did indeed have a bakery. it was well-loved in her community, her staff were wonderful people, and it all burned down in a night due to raiders. luckily for Poppy and her town, Eddie was nearby and got on the case to get rid of their problem - maybe Poppy felt obligated to help in some shape or form, and Eddie wound up inspiring her to learn healing magic. She moved into the town that would become the not-yet-existing Neighborhood's HQ to try and restart her business, but it just wasn't the same, and she had gotten a taste of what it would be like to directly save/heal people Poppy is the party's cook, healer, and ultimate voice of caution! the most she'll do in battle is sprint into danger to drag an injured person to safety for healing - she doesn't have a combative bone in her body i'd guess! does she enjoy being in the Neighborhood? eh... it's stressful and terrifying, but she couldn't live with herself if she let them all brave the wild without an adequate healer OR an adequate cook. i like to think that she saw the state they were traveling in and went "oh no"

Howdy, of course, has his tavern! it's a popular hub for travelers, townsfolk, pretty much anyone and everyone. of course it helps that it's the only tavern in town! the only reason Barnaby managed to convince Howdy to join the Neighborhood on one of their jobs is because Howdy realized that he can widen his net & sell to new people On The Go. finally, a use for that magic backpack collecting dust in his room! Howdy got a taste for adventuring and joins the Neighborhood every once in a while, usually only for shorter jobs - he doesn't want to be away from his tavern for too long his roles are support, professional haggler, sarcastic commentary. he doesn't have a crumb of magic in him, but he's clever! he's learned how to make his own support items - including his fancy revolvers with magical crayonsbullets. Howdy rarely fights, choosing to watch over his pack, dole out items when needed, and listen to Barnaby's running commentary. when it is necessary that he join in on combat, he can usually clear the playing field in a matter of moments. he's skilled with both the revolvers and using his own items - he's a one man four armed army!

Home's job is "keep Wally upright and powered". they prefer to be an observer in all situations, even after their existence becomes common knowledge to the Neighborhood. the most Home will do is nudge Wally in the right direction or alert him to something important. Home's literally just hanging out behind Wally's eyes w/ a bucket of popcorn. unless something happens to his beloved little puppet, in which case Home becomes the biggest baddest bitch around and sends everyone else to the bench

tl;dr: Wally: support fighter, magic geiger counter, escape artist Barnaby: entertainer, backup Wormie: mascot Sally: storyteller, fighter, Manager Eddie: protector, minor healer, "paladin" Frank: bookkeeper, fighter, scholar Julie: activities director, navigator, fighter Poppy: cook, healer, overthinker Howdy: tavernkeeper, inventor, support Home: just keeping an eye out

#THERE'S A TL;DR AT THE END BTW #YOU DONT HAFTA READ ALL THAT #honestly thinking about them fighting is so funny #bc like... out of the 9 of them technically only 5 actually fight #Unless frank needs to sit one out to research #then its 4!#so you've got four guys fighting for their fucking lives while everyone else is just vibing off to the side #honestly half of the appeal of fantasy aus is the Fun Combat Aspect #not only the actual fights but also! sparring! practicing with each other!#its about frank teaching wally how to throw a punch & wally immediately decking him right in the face! Accidentally!#its also about the Camping. and the Healing. and the Trusting Each Other With Your Lives.#found family it up babeyyyyyyy #rambles from the bog #wh fantasy au #just realized that ~In Canon~ if anything the neighbors are Forced Family #they dont have a choice! they're in it together whether they like it or not!#and i say 'if anything' bc ehhhh i dont really think they count... are they more like coworkers? but yk #this is an au post i cant be speculating on The Delightful Source here

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what-shitfuckery-is-this-ew · 4 months

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A Critique of Riordan's: Neurodivergency

tldr: Rick made ADHD and dyslexia superpowers in the books which fit the time he wrote the books, but it's not accepted now cause it diminishes neurodivergent struggle. At the same time he made autism coded characters the 'annoying' ones and had a very racist thing of having the only neurotypical be Frank.

He tried to fix it in the show. It worked for about 3 seconds.

TW: Ableism, Autism speaks mention, r slur, anti-schizo stuff.

This paragraph is useless so don't read if you don't want to: Sitting in my drafts are 3 different 'A critique of Riordan's' posts i made as i tried to redo my full critique of the Riordanverse with a little more positive feedback and a little less Rick Riordan is the devil spawn. I have decided to not do it in order because because i watched the show and i noticed some things which were iffy and others which were great. So yeah neurodivergency first. Enjoy and think Critically.

Books

Research and Diversity

The books were written in the early 2000s for Rick's son who has ADHD and dyslexia

As a result, it takes on a very "your ADHD and dyslexia is a superpower" message which were popular during the time, but we recognise now has delegitimised neurodivergent struggles

Also as a result, the books were very focused on his son's symptoms, and represented ADHD as a monolith which quickly turned into stereotypes (e.g jumpy, impatient and fast reflexes becoming the connecting feature of half-bloods)

It got so unresearched that at one point he said:

He also talks about coffee in a similar way, despite sugar and coffee not making us more hyperactive and instead making us sleepy. Unless all the scientists and people with ADHD are wrong i really don't know this works.

and also said this: "Leo was extremely ADHD even by demigod standards" Like what

But the worst part about the PJO books was that the neurodivergency was limited to the first book. Percy's ADHD and dyslexia magically vanish and honestly it's only really brought back up in HOO every now and then (not very well might i add)

Ways he could have improved:

He could have given other characters, like Annabeth, more diverse symptoms of ADHD. It wasn't that hard, For Annabeth recognise that she as a 'gifted kid' is more likely to have undiagnosed and so have to face the issues related to being undiagnosed and/or being both a gifted kid and having ADHD, and then also give her more symptoms common to girls like being really chatty or frequently daydreaming.

Continuing having ADHD (and dyslexia) as constant parts of the novels rather than throwaway lines. Build it into the characters actions and persona rather than add it on like an accessory

Research. Never stop researching. Always reach out to people with the disorders and ask them to help. Writing is nothing without research.

Get sensitivity readers

Grammar

This is really minor, but he keeps say ____ was ADHD, and like gramattically that's a no. I am not a disorder i am a person with a disorder . Note for autism, the prefered grammer is Autistic person (aka turn into adjective and describe, something we can't do with ADHD)

Nico and Leo

Making Leo and Nico the 2 characters who were annoying and unlikeable (to everyone else not to fans) was really weird cause these 2 characters were the autistic coded ones.

NOTE: I did see a post explaining it better in the past, and i will link it when/if i find it again.

Tyson and the R Slur

I genuinely think he tried to make the r-slur scene show that it was bad, but the way Percy reacted to it wasn't quite right. Especially for childrens books these things need to be really clear. So it was good to make a bad bully character who was hated say it, but he could have made it better by skipping Percy saying "He’s not r*tarded" and go straight to "I had to try really, really hard not to punch Sloan the face."

The scene was ok, it could have been better, but again these were written in the 2000s, we have to acknowledge that.

Percy and School

Now this is interesting because this is more recent. Percy tried really hard in school and was smart, it was part of his characterisation. But he never did well in school, because that's how his disability affected him (especially since it was the American school system which we all know is shit and even more shit for people with learning disabilities).

The problem stems from TSATS, where Percy is made out to skip school, and not try at all (feeds into people with ADHD do bad cause they don't try/are lazy)

credits to @aroaceleovaldez

Racism: Frank Zhang

Frank Zhang the only Asian member of the 7 has no form of neurodivergency, despite the rest of them all having. It must be a just coincidence that there's a stereotype that asians are really smart and good at maths and the fact that the rest of the Romans have dyscalculia/s.

It's not weird at all that the character instead has lactose intolerance, which is really common in East Asia unlike dyslexia, ADHD or dyscalculia, which has such a low rate of diagnosis because there is a large stigma behind the disorders and because white people don't think Asians can have learning disabilities/s. No not weird at all that the dude is described with symptoms of dyspraxia but Rick refuses to recognise he is not neurotypical/s

I'm stepping out of sarcasm speak to remind you that Asians with learning disabilities are significantly less likely to get diagnosed with anything because:

because their parents won't let them until they have no other choice (glares at my parents) because there's a massive stigma behind intellectual/learning/development disorders in these communities

When we do try to get diagnosed our claims are diminished because of racist stereotypes and the belief that booksmarts/giftedness = no learning disability. It means most psychologists and psychiatrists (who are usually white) think that all Asians are smart so they don't ever have any form of neurodivergency and we're left to struggle.

Schizo Rep

Octavian. Villain. Schizo. Again.

Do i even need to explain this?

Show

Not actually a specific disorder - Percy just has a learning disability

Interestly Percy's dyslexia is just never talked about, And even his ADHD is never mentioned by name. He's got a random learning disorder which isn't specified. At first i assumed it was still ADHD cause the books, but watching more, you realise they aren't actually focusing on what learning disorder he has and what he has to deal with as a result of that. It's just a generic learning disorder.

Which is weird because learning disorders are all different and we all face different things, even with the same disorder. So placing all learning disorders in the same group? not good. Don't know what i expected from disney, but it wasn't this.

Autism Speaks

So the show tried to acknowledge that Percy was constantly told he was special and heroic when he really wanted to have help for his issues and for people to recognise that he has problems and those are bad. It also represented less stereotypical adhd symptoms (though whether that's because the disorder is no longer adhd or whether they wanted more inattentive symptoms to be present, we'll never know)

but then it went ahead and used a broken puzzle metaphor for his neurodivergency?

Puzzle piece metaphors when talking about any form of neurodivergency are a no go because the creators of the metaphor literally want Autistic people dead.

I DON'T GIVE A SHIT THAT HE DOESN'T HAVE AUTISM, WE ARE NOT ALLIES TO THE AUTISM COMMUNITY IF WE USE THE LANGUAGE AUTISM SPEAKS CREATED

Not only that but a broken puzzle is not a good way to represent us anyways because NEURODIVERGENTS AREN'T BROKEN.

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saxamophone · 2 months

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wip snip

Thanks to @academicdisasterfic for tagging me in their laugh-out-loud-i'm-deceased wip snip (Bottoms x Drarry, swoon).

I'm in the middle of three things right now. There's The Big Thing (wip snip below, you can skip the rest of this paragraph if you want) that I needed a break from. I'm at the dreaded halfway point were plot lines need to start actually making sense, and wanted to clear the cobwebs by writing some fun little side fics. Under 5k. Sexy. Easy. Next thing I know, I'm 10k deep in a Dreville fic about them falling in love and a Drarry hookup piece that somehow has me researching the cult of Apollo, Ezekiel's descriptions of angels, the Green Man, and Beltane rituals. Like, can't everyone just f**k in peace?

Anyway, The Big Thing is a Wolfstar fic ---Aftermath of October 31, 1981, Remus gets Harry and, whoops, Regulus is alive and supposed to help him. They hate each other, but maybe they can get along well enough to break Sirius out of prison. Maybe.

Also f**k Dumbledore.

Opening bit:

“No.” Remus tries to close the door. “Remus,” he says kindly, and it’s almost more than he can bear. “Go away,” Remus grits out, pushing the door, and it won’t close. It won’t budge, and Dumbledore isn’t even holding it open on his side of the jamb. He didn’t say a spell either, the fucker, and the door is stuck open, unmoving, and nothing Remus does will change it unless Dumbledore wants it to change. He realises in this moment that the door is a metaphor for his whole miserable life, stuck where Albus Dumbledore decides, but he can’t address that right now. It’s too much to contemplate after everything else, so he decides the least he can do is close the fucking door. Remus throws his shoulder into it. He’s always strong, but his strength will increase as the frost moon approaches. His tall, lanky build belies the monster beneath. “Remus,” Dumbledore says again quietly. Remus ignores him and throws his shoulder into the door. The fucking door that won’t fucking close. He slams his shoulder into it so hard the frame rattles, grunting at the blow. “Go away,” he growls. He feels it, the wolf inside. Always lurking but more insistent now. Since everything. “Go away!” Remus shouts and smashes into the door, almost splitting it. It hurts, but it feels good, too. The damaged door still doesn’t move, and Remus is properly angry now. He’s been numb for days, ever since he found out…ever since…he squeezes his eyes closed and tries to shut out the memory of finding out about James and Lily and Peter. And— “No!” he bellows, and he’s about to give the door one great shove when, suddenly, he’s yanked back as if an invisible rope is attached to his spine. He scrabbles for purchase, trying to grab hold of the hall table or the reception archway. He can’t get a hand on anything before he finds himself deposited on a sagging floral sofa, sitting upright but unable to move, arms pinned to his sides. Dumbledore glides into the room after him, and Remus can hear the front door close with an offensive little click. He tries to wriggle out of whatever invisible binds he’s in and can’t. His wand is in his back pocket, useless. He scowls as Dumbledore sits in a chair across from him, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. His blue eyes are red-rimmed behind his half-moon glasses, and he’s wearing a Muggle suit—brown plaid print and a bit shabby, a bit too large on Dumbledore’s thin frame. And that’s when it hits Remus—All of this is true. It’s not some nightmare he’s lived in for the last five days like he keeps hoping.

Five days. He’s been cooped up here in Milton Keynes, waiting for five fucking days. His arrival triggered the mora protocol when he opened the door. The protocol that meant they were compromised and to stay put. Don’t move. The Order will be in touch. And finally, after five days, Frank Longbottom showed up, his big eyes sad, and his voice low. He’d told Remus what had happened, and it didn’t seem real. It couldn’t be real. It was all a big mistake. Someone had made a mistake. But he’s immobile on an ugly floral sofa, and he knows. It’s all real, and it happened, and it’s still happening, and Albus Dumbledore is wearing a brown plaid Muggle suit, and Remus’s life as he knows it is over.

Tagging @geesenoises @citrusses @tackytigerfic @arminaa8 @maesterchill @romaine2424 @skeptiquex if you have anything you'd like to share! No pressure!

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry fic #wolfstar

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missymurphy1985 · 2 years

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Second Chances - Part 3 of 3 (Cillian Murphy X fem!reader)

Warning - disability (reader is in a wheelchair after losing both legs) / smut / fluff / childbirth

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @jardinsecos @bitchwhytho @gypsy-girl-08 @queenofkings1212 @look-at-the-soul

You'd been married a year before you fell pregnant. It was coming close to doctors getting involved, but a break away in Kerry and a full three months of relaxation and pampering courtesy of your husband led to a natural conception. You'd never felt so nervous, excited, terrified and elated as when you saw those two blue lines.

It didn't stop you worrying though. One baby would be hard work for any new mum. But a new mum without legs? Of all the challenges you'd faced up to now, this would be the hardest by a long mile.

Cillian didn't share your worries or concerns. Certainly not about the raising of the baby anyway. And you'd agreed on absolutely everything from the decor of the nursery in your new Monkstown home, names, and even the school your son would attend.

"Mrs Murphy, we need to discuss your birth plan," Fiona, your midwife, smiled after listening to your baby's strong heartbeat in the living room of your home. Cillian had just come through with three cups of coffee (one decaf).

"I want a home birth," you said, sipping your drink after pulling your maternity top back down over your 32 week bump and sitting back as comfortably as possible.

"A home birth?" Fiona asked with a tone you instantly didn't like.

"Yes, here. In a birthing pool. I found one online last night that's perfect," you were grinning from ear to ear now, excited at the images in your head of candles, calming music, and Cillian in the pool with you helping deliver.

"Is that a good idea YN?" Fiona asked gently.

"Why wouldn't it be? My pregnancy isn't high risk."

"I just think you might be better delivering at hospital rather than at home, you know, in case there's any complications."

"What complications, exactly?" Cillian asked, setting his coffee down and clasping his hands together. Uh oh... You thought, he never did that unless he was really pissed...

"Mr Murphy, if I may be frank? Your wife has no lower legs, she might need additional support. Potentially a C Section. She might find it difficult to push."

"She is also sat right next to me and won't be addressed in the third person while she's in the same room. If she wants to have a water birth at home, then that's what we're going to do." You took his hand, unlinking it from his own and linking it with yours instead, in an attempt to cool him down. Although if you were honest, you'd never loved him more than in that moment.

"Mrs Murphy, I apologise, but I have to state, on the record, that I think this is a terrible idea."

"Not your baby, not your body, not your choice," you said, simply.

"If anyone knows what YNs body is capable of, it's us. We wouldn't agree on this if we didn't think we were capable of it," Cillian was slightly calmer now, but still pissed at the audacity of this woman.

"I've done my research. I've spoken to other amputees at the support group I run. A few women there had water births and they buoyancy of the water really helped with the lack of legs issue. I see no problem with me having one?"

"If needs be, I'll tie armbands around her knees - that should help too, right?" Cillian joked and you nearly spat your coffee out for laughing. Even Fiona chuckled.

"Okay. Let me talk to the consultant. We'll see what we can arrange."

************************************************************

"Cill, can you grab me those BBQ Pringles and the hot chilli sauce please? Oh and that jar of beetroot in the fridge..."

Even at 39 weeks pregnant, Cillian still shuddered at your food choices. Last week you wanted jam and cream cheese on a sandwich. The week before you discovered a sudden taste for hot chilli sauce. On everything. You even dipped that nasty sandwich in the stuff, which repulsed him so much he threatened to disown you if these weird cravings continued after pregnancy.

"Do you want the jalapenos as well?" He called from the kitchen to your spot on the sofa, wearing maternity shorts and a maternity bra, a fan on you face. In the middle of January.

"Ooh yeah, those little red ones - the green ones taste like ass."

"Fucking weirdo..."

"I heard that!!"

"You were meant to, dearest."

He handed you a plate of the most bizarre mini picnic he'd ever prepared and sat on the sofa next to you. His jumper wrapped around him, warm slippers, and a blanket over him. He dared to put the heating on last week and you didn't speak to him for days. He now lived in layers and UGG boots.

"That good?" He laughed, watching you demolish every morsel, while watching a serial killer documentary on TV.

You response was incoherent, but the smile on your face told him you were happy. And as much as he took the piss out of you, that's all he wanted.

"Right," you said, after finishing the last of the jalapenos, "I can't have my water birth if I go over 40 weeks."

"I know."

"We have less than a week to get this baby moving."

"With the amount of hot sauce and jalapenos you're eating I'm surprised he isn't already planning his escape YN."

"Funny. I'm serious Cill, I really want my water birth..."

"So what are you suggesting we do?"

"Well... I've been eating pineapple daily. Spicy food is pretty much a constant. I've bounced on that fucking ball so much it's deflating. I've walked MILES with Scout for the last two weeks every single day. Now it's your turn."

"My turn?!"

"You put it him there, you can help get him out."

Suddenly the penny dropped.

"You have such a way with words, you know that?"

"Cillian Murphy, love of my life, would you be so kind as to fuck this baby out of me? Please?"

"Say no more Mrs Murphy..."

Suddenly not caring about the cold, he had his layers removed in record time. He'd been cautious to initiate sex so late on in your pregnancy and you'd been so tired, but you'd just given him the green light. The most unromantic green light he'd ever received, but he wasn't complaining.

Your maternity shorts were off, but you kept the bra on. Your breasts were almost double the size, and no amount of pouts from your husband was convincing you to unleash them from their very comfortable and painfree hold.

He paused for a second, unsure how to navigate a position that wouldn't be uncomfortable for you, so you took the lead. Pushing him onto his back on the wide sofa cushions, he helped you to sit on him, facing away. That didn't work.

"Too much weight for too little leggage..." You giggled. He responded by holding under your arms and leaning you back against his chest. Holding you steady with one hand, he slid the other between you and lined himself up against your entrance. His hands remained under your arms while he gently thrust up into you, allowing you to adjust.

The position was new to both of you, but it certainly wouldn't be the last time you did it. His cock was perfectly and effortlessly angled to hit your sweet spot... Your body perfectly supported and comfortable against his chest.

"So fucking tight at this angle YN..."

"Don't you dare cum yet Murphy, I swear to god," you panted, feeling your own end not far away already. His upward thrusts came a little harder now, pumping up into you a little faster.

"There.. right fucking there... Oh shit..." You felt yourself coming undone, you felt his chest heaving underneath you..

"Cum for me baby, need it..."

With a loud cry of his name you fell apart. Swiftly followed by a louder groan behind you and several ropes of his seed filling you. He held still while his cock painted your walls white, keeping as much of it inside you as possible. His hands released their tight hold, allowing you to relax on him. He eased the two of you down onto the sofa, gently laying you on your side as he spooned you from behind - his cock falling out of you, his arms wrapping around you.

"I can't believe I get to keep you forever..." He whispered, kissing the back of your neck.

"Stuck with me now. Made a baby."

"We did, didn't we?"

"Yes we did. And you're doing that on repeat until said baby gets the hint."

************************************************************

It didn't take long. You felt the first contraction two days later while you were in bed reading. Sending Cillian downstairs to fill the pool, you decided to wait - you wanted to labour just the two of you as long as possible before contacting Fiona.

He helped you put your prosthetics on, and pulled you carefully to your feet out of bed.

"Can you walk?" He asked, holding your hands tight. A few small steps, and you found your groove. Newer prosthetics that Cillian had specially made for you - they were much more comfortable than your last ones - and they were waterproof too. The last thing you wanted was to be confined to a bed throughout labour. You wanted to move around as much as possible, and his Christmas gift last year had made it happen for you.

He led you downstairs slowly, and into your open plan kitchen and dining room. Large bay windows allowed the sunlight to cascade across the room, and you smiled at the filled pool in the centre. The dining table and chairs pushed to the side.

"Drink this, keep your strength up," Cillian handed you a glass of water, watching you drink it down. "How's the pain?"

"Pretty bad.. but I don't want to get in the water yet. Can we walk some more?"

"As long as you need."

Your arms rested on his as he walked backwards around the kitchen with you, pausing every ten minutes to breath with you through a contraction. His eyes on the clock each time.

"It's gone.."

"Three minutes - I'll call Fiona."

She arrived within half an hour with a trainee midwife you'd met a few weeks earlier.

"Let's examine you - how far apart are the contractions?" Fiona asked, getting you to sit on a chair with your legs apart, kneeling in front of you.

"Seven minutes, lasting 3 minutes each," Cillian answered. You were stroking your bump, breathing calmly, the sounds of soothing jazz music filling the room.

Fiona carefully examined you, while he stood behind you and stroked your hair and face. Your eyes on his, and it was still like nothing else existed but the two of you.

"6cm - progressing nicely YN. Have your waters broken?"

"About an hour ago," you said, wincing as another pain gripped you. Cillian took your hands and let you squeeze his, waiting for it to pass. His lips at your ear now.

"Breathe through it, remember... In... Out..."

"Pool... Now..." You wheezed, feeling the pain pass. The contraction feeling much more powerful than the last few. Cillian helped you up, walking gently with you over to the pool. He took his shirt and jeans off, leaving him in his shorts, and climbed in, gently easing you in after. Sitting on the seat inside the pool he held you in his lap. The water instantly soothing you. Quickly realising you needed a new position, you turned - the buoyancy of the water making everything easier - so now you were facing Cillian, your hands on his thighs, almost bent over. You rested your forehead against his, while he stroked your arms gently, breathing with you.

"You're so strong... You're doing so well YN. Keep breathing for me, nice and slow. Talk to me, tell me what's going on."

Fiona and Anna stood back and simply observed. Cillian and you had attended classes for him to deliver the baby with you, they would only step in if they needed to. If it was up to you it'd just be the two of you, but having been through a traumatic labour and delivery with Lila nearly 15 years ago, he wanted the reassurance of medical professionals close at hand. This was the fairest compromise.

He held you and swayed with you in the water for nearly 45 minutes, his gentle voice humming an old Irish folk song he used to sing Lila when she was a baby to soothe her. He'd sung it to your bump ever since you found out you were pregnant, and chuckled every time it sent you to sleep. Your fingers dug into his thighs so much it left marks, but not once did he so much as flinch.

"I can feel pressure," you said, feeling it deep in your pelvis.

Cillian saw Fiona approaching and moved you carefully onto his chest. She gently reached in and examined you.

"Fully dilated YN, if you need to push go for it. I'm right here," she nodded.

"Where do you want to be?" Cillian asked gently. You moved back around so you were facing him again, your hands back on his legs, his forehead pressed against yours.

"I know we said you'd catch him but I need to be here..."

"Shh.. doesn't matter - you be where you need to be."

"Cill..." You started to panic, feeling your body take over. His hands moved to yours lifting them up onto his folded elbows as you raised your knees onto his thighs, taking the pressure off your prosthetics. Fiona stayed close, watching from behind you as you bore down.

"That's it, push, I've got you," Cillian's eyes never left yours, you could feel them on you even with your eyes scrunched closed.

"Fuck..." You swore, exhaling loudly as the feeling passed - very quickly coming on again.

"I see a head!" Fiona cried, and you reached down to feel the top of your son's head. The pain was bad - really bad, but the warm water was definitely helping.

"Pant now, little breaths - let his head come through gently YN, I'll tell you when you can push."

You wrapped your arms around Cillian's neck, his hands held your body up. Your forehead still pressed to his as you panted together, tears falling down your cheeks as the burn between your legs intensified. He stroked over your tightening belly from underneath you.

"My brave, strong, beautiful wife, you're a powerhouse YN. I love you and our boy so much... So, so much..."

"Head's out mum," Anna said after a few minutes, grabbing some towels from her bag.

"Come on now, nearly done - just a few more, okay?" His eyes on yours, calm as anything.

"I can't..."

"Yes you can - I've got you," he felt your belly tighten, hard as a rock, "Push YN!"

You bore down hard, a deep, low groan coming from you unlike any noise you had ever made. Another contraction followed so closely after you weren't sure if the last one truly ended. Cillian reached down and felt your son as he left your body into Fiona's waiting hands. He turned you gently onto your back before she lifted him slowly out of the water onto your chest.

"Oh my god... Cillian...."

He couldn't answer you. Sobs wracked his body as he watched his boy snuggle into you - barely even crying, just a small grizzle as he cut the cord.

"Hi Aiden," he choked, stroking his tiny face. Aiden looked up towards the noise, and gave a small cry, making you laugh.

"We're clearly gonna get along just fine," Cillian chuckled, mesmerised as Aiden fed from you.

A few days later, Cillian's daughter Lila was staying over and meeting her little brother for the first time. As she held him, walking around the living room as he slept in her arms, small tears were falling down her cheeks.

"How did you create something so cute?" She joked to her Dad.

"I'll have you know I'm adorable."

You shared a glance with Lila, and you both rolled your eyes. Even Aiden gave a small whine. Lila handed him to Cillian who was already waiting with a bottle. Sitting down on the sofa, baby in one arm, bottle in his other hand, you couldn't help but feel emotional.

You watched your son feed, Cillian's eyes on his as he suckled, Lila sitting next to you on the sofa grinning from ear to ear, and you were fairly sure it didn't get any better. How dramatically your life had changed ever since the accident - which you couldn't believe had been the catalyst for all of it.

Nothing in the world could top this.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x fem!reader #cillian smut #cillian murphy x childbirth #cillian murphy x wife!reader #cillian murphy x requests #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x smut

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

Recognition

@aspecarchivesweek Day Five: Something New

Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Season One

In which Jon and Martin are more alike than they thought.

Jon, in spite of himself, was starting to get used to Martin living in the Archives.

Offering him shelter had been almost instinctual- after listening to his story, who wouldn’t? Terrorized for almost two weeks and no one, no one noticed. There was also the matter of Jon’s guilt; Martin thought he needed to put himself in danger to be thorough, to please Jon, and now he was homeless. Jon owed him this at the very least. No matter how much Elias disapproved of the situation.

And despite the occasional trouser-less wanderings, his presence was...appreciated. Late nights in the Archives were wearing him down: the statements were getting to him, and the unshakeable feeling of being watched when he knew he was alone was putting him on edge. Now he can blame that feeling on Martin, who he’d caught staring on more than one occasion. Jon was not surprised; he hadn’t been looking or feeling his best, highly unprofessional with his three-day stubble and rumpled clothes. Not a good look.

He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t enjoy the cup of tea when Martin joined him in his worst bouts of insomnia. He would sit on the tiny couch in his office, nursing his own mug and chattering away in a low tone that Jon was starting to find soothing instead of irritating. At first Jon clammed up, uncomfortable with the sudden intrusion on his late night routine, but he soon found Martin didn’t expect him to respond or contribute, save the occasional grunt of acknowledgement. Sometimes Jon even craved the company, the familiar rhythms of Martin’s voice had become an unconscious comfort.

Tonight he was looking particularly exhausted, slumped in his seat with deep purple bags under his eyes. It sent an unwelcome pang through Jon’s chest; Martin should be sleeping, not entertaining him because he chose to stay late. He said as much.

“You don’t have to stay up on my part.”

“Hm?” Martin looked up from his lap, eyes finding Jon’s. “Oh, no. It’s fine. I like the company, to be honest. Unless…?”

“I don’t mind,” Jon assured him. Shockingly, he found he meant it. Still, it didn’t ease his guilt. Martin was always here, never leaving the Archives for more than an hour to get food or other necessities. He considered his next words. “That being said, I hope you know you’re allowed to have a life outside of the institute. I won’t judge if you want to have a...late night, or go out. It’s not my business what you do in your free time.”

Martin squinted his eyes as if he didn’t understand the words Jon spoke. Christ, do I really seem that out of touch? He knew he could be severe and well, a bit of an ass at times. The stress of the job got to him more than he cared to admit. But he didn’t want his assistants to think they should follow his example. He was Head Archivist, it fell on his shoulders to get this place in some semblance of order.

“I’m not really one for nights out, Jon,” Martin gave that familiar, self-deprecating laugh as he leaned back in his chair, an almost defeated-like set to his shoulders. “Well, besides the occasional drink with Tim and Sasha. And even those are sort of...I don’t know. They have their own thing going, and I feel like-”

“A bit of an outsider,” Jon provided before he could activate his ‘word to mouth’ filter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply-”

“No,” Martin cut him off. “You’re right. Feels like I’m intruding.”

“Their banter can be overwhelming for the, ah, uninitiated.” On the few times he’d gone out with them in research, he’d felt more lonely than included. His awkward attempts at interjecting could make a conversation fall flat and he felt the need to accept every drink they handed in him the hopes of ‘loosening up.’ It never worked. They were never mean about it, no- or at least had the decency not to do it in his presence.

“Tell me about it.” Martin gave Jon a tiny little smirk that sent his heart stuttering in his chest for no particular reason. “I’m used to it, is all. This isn’t much of a change in routine, worms notwithstanding.”

“You, er, don’t have friends you can meet up with? Or maybe a partner?” Christ, why am I prying? What’s gotten into me? Jon felt curious, the man practically lived with him and yet he barely knew him.

The bark of laughter he got in reply was sudden and more than self-deprecating. “A partner? Are you kidding me?” Martin’s tone threw him off-balance; it was jaded, bitter, not like him at all.

“I didn’t mean to pry-”

“No, it’s- to be frank, I don’t think I’m cut out for all that.” Martin toyed with the mug in his hands, gazing into it like it held the answers he needed. “I’ve uh, tried to go on a few dates, meet people, that sort of thing. But they all expect something at the end and it just never feels right, I can’t explain it. Like there’s something missing. ”

Jon paused; the words and their sentiment were not unfamiliar to him. In fact, they resonated quite deeply, if Martin meant what Jon thought he did.

“It’s always been that way- I get a crush, I get to know them, they want to, y’know, and I-I don’t know what's wrong with me, but I can’t-” He cut himself off, sitting up straighter as if suddenly remembering where he was and who he was talking to. “God, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this-”

“It’s fine.” And it was. Martin looked at his hands and Jon recognized the sadness in the set of his shoulders, the lines etched in his face. He never thought the two of them would have much in common but that- that was a feeling Jon knew all too well. “I think I understand what you’re getting at.”

Martin somehow managed to deflate even further, curling up as if trying to disappear. “Yeah, well- I think it’s time to admit that I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life.”

The words hit Jon harder than expected. His fists tightened in his lap; he was sixteen again, wondering why the kiss he stole in a backroom felt more invasive than intimate. He was reading romance novels, understanding the words but not the feelings they were supposed to invoke. He was in college, being called a ‘tease’ or a ‘prude’ when he pulled away at the end of the night. And it was all accompanied by that deep, crushing fear that he’d never be enough.

No, you’re not that kid anymore.

And Martin shouldn’t have to be either.

“What’s that look for?”

He was drawn from his thoughts at Martin’s words, looking up from the scratched wood of his desk. “Sorry?”

“You’ve- you’ve got that look on your face, like you’re const- like you’re thinking really hard.”

Jon tried to think of a way to word his query delicately, but ‘delicacy’ had never been his strong suit, according to Georgie. Come to think of it, it was never hers either. “Have you ever considered that maybe- that you’re- you’re of the persuasion, that is-”

Martin shot him a deadpan look, unimpressed. “Yeah, I know I’m gay, Jon.”

“That’s not-” He sighed in frustration, fuming at his inability to communicate. “It’s okay to not feel that way. I never have. It’s normal.”

Martin blinked. “Sorry?”

“Asexuality, that is,” he said, finally managing to get out the words. “I was...in a similar position, I guess you could say. I didn’t feel the way you were ‘supposed’ to feel, like how all the books and TV shows describe it. Zero interest in anything sexual, and I thought...well, I thought something was wrong with me.” Jon felt a lump building in his throat, much to his horror. “But being able to put a name to it, an identity, it just felt right.” Martin’s face was unreadable- had he spoken out of turn? Did he have this all wrong?

He tried to clarify. “What I’m trying to say is that I know what it’s like, that...feeling you described. But it doesn’t mean you’re not cut out for love. You...you shouldn’t have to feel that way about yourself. You’ll find people who accept you. You’re not doomed to be lonely.” Now you’re just getting sentimental. Jon wasn’t one to dole out advice. He attempted to reign it in, get himself back on solid, familiar ground. “Maybe don’t take me for an example, though. I assure you, my isolation is very much self-imposed.”

Martin didn’t laugh. For a brief, panicky moment Jon thought he might have offended him, assumed the wrong thing, taken him out of context. But Martin met his eyes and Jon saw it- a look of dawning understanding, of comprehension and knowing and as much as Jon wanted to look away he couldn’t, because for the first time in a while he thought he might have said the right thing.

_____

He watched as Martin puttered about in the break room and took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders. Martin hadn’t said much after their conversation, just thanked him in a choked voice and mumbled some excuse about going off to bed. Jon felt a bit conflicted- he now had time to ruminate on the conversation, pick it apart and wonder if he said anything wrong. He didn’t think he had, but his instincts had been proven wrong before.

Still, the thought of helping one person, sparing them from that crippling self-doubt and inadequacy, made any embarrassment or awkwardness well worth it. So here he was, shuffling his feet and holding a stack of paper, stapled and neat and in some cases, annotated. He cleared his throat and Martin turned away from the sink to face him.

“Oh, g-good morning, Jon.” He wiped his hands on a dish towel, throwing it lightly on the counter. “Did you sleep well?”

He’d gotten two hours tops on the lumpy couch in his office. I need to invest in another cot. But he nodded anyway, walking forward and thrusting the pile out for Martin to take. Martin looked down at it quizzically but took it all the same, his face softening as he flipped through the pages.

“I, um- I printed out some articles that I thought might be of interest,” Jon rambled, feeling more awkward by the second. Was this too forward of me? “I’ve always found it easier to read on paper instead of the screen. For ah, concentration purposes. This- this isn’t required reading, or anything. Just might be helpful for, uh, figuring things out.”

Martin didn’t look up from the pages in his hand, instead zeroing in on them with a more intense stare. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight with sincerity. “Thanks. It uh, it means a lot.”

“Yes,” Jon replied nonsensically, having no response to the emotion in Martin’s words. “You- you don’t need to talk to me about this, if you’d rather not. But I’m available if you’d like to.” He paused. Best to keep this somewhat professional- it was almost nine. “Outside of normal working hours, of course.”

“Of course,” Martin echoed, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he finally met Jon’s eyes. He fought down the urge to smile back, instead muttering an excuse and turning to flee the room. I think I’ve filled my emotional quota for the week.

They don’t talk about it again, but a few days later a sticky note appears on his desk. Thanks- MB. Underneath the clear script he’d doodled a small flag- black, grey, white, and purple.

Jon puts it in his right-hand drawer next to an old polaroid of the Admiral, where it stays.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782318

#my writing #aspecarchives #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #cw aphobia and internalized aphobia #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #asexual jonathan sims #asexual martin blackwood #jon helps martin figure out he's ace

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enhyupn · 3 years

Text

paring: jake x gender neutral reader

disclaimer: this isn’t proof read so there might be som mistakes here and there :[

word count: 2.3k+

genre: fluff, just pure fluff + crack!?!? reader and jake are insanely oblivious

a/n i kinda realised this was centred around jungwon and sunoo messing around but! there is kinda some romance… anyways i wrote this on my other account and and this is pretty bad since i feel like the ending is rushed too T___T

yang jungwon and kim sunoo were taught to never, big emphasis on never, meddle in things that weren’t their business. however, it’s safe to say that the two threw away that lesson for something they found more important. and that was y/n and jake sim, their loving but yet so so oblivious friends. at the start, the blushing and giggling at each other’s terrible jokes were tease-worthy, maybe even cute? but now, it’s so unbearable and exhausting that even their homeroom teacher can’t even understand why they aren’t dating.

that’s why the two friends devised a plan, actually multiple plans. plan a, for when things will go smoothly. plan b, for when there’s a tiny bump in the road. plan c, for everything above have failed. three plans filled with clichés to get their friends to finally ask each other out, what could go wrong?

i. PLAN A

the plan was simple, a (fake) love confession placed inside the locker of an unsuspecting y/n. the contents of the letter were laughable, the pair having a good time trying to make jake sound childish and silly in his love letter.

“you’re making him look like a seven year old jungwon” sunoo told him in between laughs. “why did you draw this in crayon? you and i both know jake’s a muji pen user”. the two were standing right in front of y/n’s locker, both keeping an eye out to see if one of the two oblivious idiots were passing by.

“it’s all i had on me!” jungwon cried out as he eyed the end of the hallway, ‘okay hurry! the coast is clear no sign of dumb and dumber’.

sunoo, not really trusting jungwon’s eyes, takes a good look of their surroundings. he made sure to look out for sunghoon too as he tells jake everything, and that means everything. the boy will never forget about the time jake had teased him for telling a cashier to ‘keep the change’ when he still owed them thirty more cents, something only sunghoon was present for.

“okay” sunoo carefully slid in the love letter into the thin opening of y/n’s locker. “it’s in, hurry and hide! i swear their class ends in- ”.

“hurry!” the sound of the bell causing the two to run off in opposite directions, their hiding places letting them get a good view of the show they (technically) directed. the pair watched as y/n left their classroom, unsurprisingly with jake following closely behind them. the sickly sweet smiles plastered on their faces? the heart eyes? the giggling at every single word being said? they were in love, but the two fools were so oblivious to it.

eyes followed them as y/n headed to their locker, sunoo and jungwon couldn’t understand why they were sweating so much. was that a sign that their plan wouldn’t work? nah, it was bound to work. only someone incredibly stupid would not see the huge letter right in front of them-

“ready?” jungwon overheard jake speak. jungwon knew that sunoo was just as confused as he was. did they not see the love letter? it was so big and stupid looking that they couldn’t have missed it. maybe he shouldn’t of doubted the two, maybe they were as incredibly stupid as he had doubted them to be.

“yup!” y/n said cheerfully. sunoo could feel his forehead wrinkle in annoyance when he realised the two didn’t even acknowledge the letter, in that very moment he knew he had to make the next step.

“y/n! jake!” the boy walked up to the pair, jungwon’s eyes widened when he realised his partner left his hiding place, what is he doing? he watched as sunoo glanced over at him with a look that basically said ‘leave this to me!’.

“sunoo!” jake greeted him warmly, “i thought you had algebra now?”

“nope! i have a free period right now”

“oh, then why are you here?” jake sounded and felt confused, sunoo never visited him during free period unless he wanted something or he needed something. “i don’t have five dollars by the way”.

“i don’t need money! it’s kinda harsh that you think of me like that jake” sunoo pouted through his words. “i just wanted to say that i’m inviting everyone to my house tonight! since it’s a friday and we haven’t all seen each other in a while”.

“oh! that sounds fun” y/n replied with a cheery smile, “i’ll be there, well jake and i”. sunoo couldn’t help but notice the growing blush on the boy’s face at the sound of his name, gross.

“great, see you two tonight”

sunoo smirked as he waved the two off as they headed towards their next class. not forgetting jungwon, he signalled the boy towards him to tell him the rundown of what had just happened.

“so plan a was thrown away after a mere three minutes?” jungwon looked at sunoo confused.

“stop thinking it failed!” he rolled his eyes, “it didn’t! it just, helped us get on the next step”.

“so basically plan b is a go?”

“plan b is a go”.

ii. PLAN B

what could get more cliché than a movie night date? a scary movie night date. sunoo and jungwon both knew that this was the plan that was going to start the blossoming relationship of jake and y/n. the plan was simple, jake and y/n will obviously be sitting together and when a jump scare shows up, y/n will jump into his arms! sunoo bets that they’ll look at each other in the eyes and confess their feelings right then and there. jungwon bets the opposite, he thinks that they’ll awkwardly pull apart from each other, the rest of the night they won’t stop think about each other and when they walk home together that’s when they’ll simultaneously confess to each other!

“y/n! sit beside me!” a voice across the room caught the attention of the two boys. they knew for a fact it wasn’t the voice of jake, meaning it could be the only other person glued onto the other hip of y/n.

“ riki!” y/n flashed another smile, “of course”. the two boys watched as they left jake’s side to sit in the empty space beside the fifteen year old.

“what do we do now…” jungwon whisper shouted in sunoo’s ear. the boy flinched at the loud noise before swatting the boy away. the pair could tell that this plan wouldn’t work as well as they thought, maybe it was the dependance they had on clichés? maybe it was that the two were unpredictable at times? they didn’t know, all they knew was that they wanted all the credit for the (almost) new couple.

“don’t worry my good friend, i have the perfect plan” sunoo’s annoyed expression morphed into a smirk.

“you said that last time! now riki’s the one that’s gonna be in y/n’s arms during scary jump scares while jake is sitting crisscross applesauce right in front of them!” jungwon’s frowned, “if anything let me handle it”.

“do whatever you want but i’ll- ”

“riki!” a sudden voice in the room causes the bickering boys to turn their heads, “don’t you need help with your world history homework? you asked me if i could help you while they watch their movie”.

“i did?” riki replied in a rather confused voice.

“yes, you did” heeseung said through gritted teeth. the group of boys watched as the oldest lightly dragged the youngest into sunoo’s kitchen. y/n watched in concern, not knowing if they should help riki or scold heeseung for being so uptight during a movie night.

“can i sit here?” jungwon and sunoo squinted when they realised jake was asking the question. the two didn’t know why they felt butterflies over the simple question.

“sure!” another one of y/n’s signature smiles blinding the boy in front of them. “i mean now that riki’s been taken away! wait no- i didn’t mean it like that. obviously i want you to sit beside me- ”

“y/n it’s okay” y/n’s embarrassingly long spew sending a second hand embarrassment shiver down the two boy’s body. jake laughs quietly as he place’s himself down beside them, a growing blush placed on their ears and cheeks.

“do they both not realise the whole room is watching them?” jungwon whispered into sunoo’s ear. sunoo looked around and it was true, the scary movie was quickly replaced by the bashful (almost) couple.

“what are you two doing?” sunghoon joined their conversation. the boys jumped in surprise, not expecting him to even talk to them. everyone knew that sunghoon took movie night seriously, he would watch the movie without making a comment unlike his talkative friends and finish his night up researching the movie’s end and plot.

“talking about the movie obviously!” sunoo smiled innocently.

‘“liar” jay whispered, “we all know your little scheme, you never invite us over”.

“hey” jungwon whisper shouted at the group of boys surrounding him, interfering so the two wouldn’t start bickering. “wouldn’t jake and y/n get suspicious over the fact we are grouped together in the corner of the couch whispering to each other?”.

“dumb and dumber wouldn’t even notice if we threw a rock at their heads right now” the group glanced over at the pair, their stiff positions and the small i’m-in-love smiles plastered on their faces were enough proof that the two were in la la land.

“you guys meddled too?” jungwon tilted his head in confusion.

“why did you think riki was so confused when heeseung said he’d help him with world history?” sunghoon sighed, “he doesn’t even do world history!”.

“you could of told a better lie” sunoo rolled his eyes, ‘jungwon and i had an amazing plan- ”.

“but heeseung! i don’t even do world history, why do i need help with homework?” sunoo couldn’t understand why he kept getting interrupted.

“i guess it would of been smarter to let riki into our plan” jay rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“riki, i’ll explain! now get back in the kitchen, don’t you want to know who anne frank is?” riki and heeseung entered the room, heeseung with a frantic look on his face while riki looked annoyed.

“i know who anne frank is!” riki frowned, “you weren’t even asking me about world history anyways! you kept asking me about our dance club, the one we are both in”.

“i’ll talk about world history now! um, world war one?”

“wait” riki squinted his eyes at the jake and y/n, who were sitting rather close. ignoring the oldest’s question, he walked closer to the pair.

“what is he doing…” jungwon whispered.

“are you two dating?” the sudden question from the youngest’s mouth caused y/n to flinch in their seat.

“oh my god” sunoo blurted out.

“did he just start plan c without even knowing what plan c was?”.

iii. PLAN C

plan c, or what the two boys would like to call it, plan confirmation. the final plan if all things went wrong, in all honesty nothing in plan b went wrong. however the curiosity of nishimura riki quickened the pace up. the contents of the plan were simple, straight up asking the pair if they were dating. it was a simple but not so romantic way to start dating, and that was the main reason it was the ‘if all else fails’ plan.

“no” the group of boys didn’t know that one word could shock them, i mean they saw it coming due to the fact they were completely oblivious but they didn’t know it would shake them up this much.

“no it’s okay you can tell them y/n” jake’s words only shocked the boys even more, their eyes widening in surprise to hear the almost confirmation of their relationship.

“what do you mean? you said the letter in my locker wasn’t from you?”

“it doesn’t mean i don’t don’t like you?” jake said confidently.

“wait…” jungwon stared at the two, “you found our letter?”.

“jungwon! you weren’t supposed to say it out loud” sunoo scolded him through gritted teeth.

“shut up” jay whispered in their ears, “something’s gonna happen i can feel it”.

everyone could notice the red tinge on jake’s ears. they watched as he rubbed the back of his neck while y/n stared at him in utter confusion.

“i like you, y/n” the blushing boy said quietly but just loud enough that they could hear it. “i swear i was going to confess in a better way but i’m kinda under pressure right now…”

“oh?” y/n tilted their head to the side, “i thought you rejected me?”

“i did?” jake looked as confused as everyone else in the room.

“you told me on new year’s eve to wait and i thought that was you letting me down easy”.

“you did?” the bewildered look in jake’s eyes confused y/n even more.

“that’s why you left early?”

“i feel like they needed to speak about this a while ago” sunoo whispered into jungwon’s ear.

“it doesn’t matter now! what matters is that i like you too” y/n smiled happily.

“oh” jake let out in surprise.

“this is way more sickly than i thought this moment was gonna be” jay mumbled bitterly.

“so you two are dating?” riki asked, not really processing what had just happened.

“are we?” jake turned to y/n.

“yes”

maybe the plans a to c did work? i mean if it wasn’t for the help of the meddling jungwon and sunoo did, the almost couple turned into a real couple. the pair in all honesty really didn’t care that much, they were just happy they got the real thing they wanted.

the satisfaction knowing that they were the ones that played wingmen.

“thanks riki, i couldn’t of done it without you” jake smiled at the youngest.

or maybe, this was gonna be a long night.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen social media au #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #enhypen x reader

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luvhypen · 3 years

Text

wingmen!

paring: jake x gender neutral reader

disclaimer: this is my first fic in a while and also this isn’t proof read :[

word count: 2.3k+

genre: fluff, just pure fluff

a/n i kinda realised this was centred around jungwon and sunoo messing around but! there is kinda some romance... anyways i hope this isn’t too bad :)

i. PLAN A

‘you’re making him look like a seven year old jungwon’ sunoo told him in between laughs. ‘why did you draw this in crayon? you and i both know jake’s a muji pen user’. the two were standing right in front of y/n’s locker, both keeping an eye out to see if one of the two oblivious idiots were passing by.

‘it’s all i had on me!’ jungwon cried out as he eyed the end of the hallway, ‘okay hurry! the coast is clear no sign of dumb and dumber’.

sunoo, not really trusting jungwon’s eyes, takes a good look of their surroundings. he made sure to look out for sunghoon as well as he tells jake everything, and that means everything. the boy will never forget about the time jake had teased him for telling a cashier to “keep the change” when he still owed them thirty more cents, something only sunghoon was present for.

‘okay’ sunoo carefully slid in the love letter into the thin opening of y/n’s locker. ‘it’s in, hurry and hide! i swear their class ends in-’.

‘hurry!’ the sound of the bell causing the two to run off in opposite directions, their hiding places letting them get a good view of the show they (technically) directed. the pair watched as y/n left their classroom, unsurprisingly with jake following closely behind them. the sickly sweet smiles plastered on their faces? the heart eyes? the giggling at every single word being said? they were in love, but the two fools were so oblivious to it.

‘ready?’ jungwon overheard jake speak. jungwon knew that sunoo was just as confused as he was. did they not see the love letter? it was so big and stupid looking that they couldn’t have missed it. maybe he shouldn’t of doubted the two, maybe they were as incredibly stupid as he had doubted them to be.

‘yup!’ y/n said cheerfully. sunoo could feel his forehead wrinkle in annoyance when he realised the two didn’t even acknowledge the letter, in that very moment he knew he had to make the next step.

‘y/n! jake!’ the boy walked up to the pair, jungwon’s eyes widened when he realised his partner left his hiding place, what is he doing? he watched as sunoo glanced over at him with a look that basically said “leave this to me!”.

‘sunoo!’ jake greeted him warmly, ‘i thought you had algebra now?’

‘nope! i have a free period right now’

‘oh, then why are you here?’ jake sounded and felt confused, sunoo never visited him during free period unless he wanted something or he needed something. ‘i don’t have five dollars by the way’.

‘i don’t need money! it’s kinda harsh that you think of me like that jake’ sunoo pouted through his words. ‘i just wanted to say that i’m inviting everyone to my house tonight! since it’s a friday and we haven’t all seen each other in a while’.

‘oh! that sounds fun’ y/n replied with a cheery smile, ‘i’ll be there, well jake and i’. sunoo couldn’t help but notice the growing blush on the boy’s face at the sound of his name, whipped.

‘great, see you two tonight’

sunoo smirked as he waved the two off as they headed towards their next class. not forgetting jungwon, he signalled the boy towards him to tell him the rundown of what had just happened.

‘so plan a was thrown away after a mere three minutes?’ jungwon looked at sunoo confused.

‘stop thinking it failed!’ he rolled his eyes, ‘it didn’t! it just, helped us get on the next step’.

‘so basically plan b is a go?’

‘plan b is a go’.

ii. PLAN B

‘y/n! sit beside me!’ a voice across the room caught the attention of the two boys. they knew for a fact it wasn’t the voice of jake, meaning it could be the only other person glued onto the other hip of y/n.

‘riki!’ y/n flashed another smile, ‘of course’. the two boys watched as they left jake’s side to sit in the empty space beside the fifteen year old.

‘what do we do now...’ jungwon whisper shouted in sunoo’s ear. the boy flinched at the loud noise before swatting the boy away. the pair could tell that this plan wouldn’t work as well as they thought, maybe it was the dependance they had on clichés? maybe it was that the two were unpredictable at times? they didn’t know, all they knew was that they wanted all the credit for the (almost) new couple.

‘don’t worry my good friend, i have the perfect plan’ sunoo’s annoyed expression morphed into a smirk.

‘you said that last time! now riki’s the one that’s gonna be in y/n’s arms during scary jump scares while jake is sitting crisscross applesauce right in front of them!’ jungwon’s frowned, ‘if anything let me handle it’.

‘do whatever you want but i’ll-’

‘riki!’ a sudden voice in the room causes the bickering boys to turn their heads, ‘don’t you need help with your world history homework? you asked me if i could help you while they watch their movie’.

‘i did?’ riki replied in a rather confused voice.

‘yes, you did’ heeseung said through gritted teeth. the group of boys watched as the oldest lightly dragged the youngest into sunoo’s kitchen. y/n watched in concern, not knowing if they should help riki or scold heeseung for being so uptight during a movie night.

‘can i sit here?’ jungwon and sunoo squinted when they realised jake was asking the question. the two didn’t know why they felt butterflies over the simple question.

‘sure!’ another one of y/n’s signature smiles blinding the boy in front of him. ‘i mean now that riki’s been taken away! wait no- i didn’t mean it like that. obviously i want you to sit beside me-’.

‘y/n calm down!’ y/n’s embarrassingly long spew sending a second hand embarrassment shiver down the two boy’s body. jake laughs quietly as he place’s himself down beside them, a growing blush placed on their ears and cheeks.

‘do they both not realise the whole room is watching them?’ jungwon whispered into sunoo’s ear. sunoo looked around and it was true, the scary movie was quickly replaced by the bashful (almost) couple.

‘what are you two doing?’ sunghoon joined their conversation. the boys jumped in surprise, not expecting him to even talk to them. everyone knew that sunghoon took movie night seriously, he would watch the movie without making a comment unlike his talkative friends and finish his night up researching the movie’s end and plot.

‘talking about the movie obviously!’ sunoo smiled innocently.

‘liar’ jay whispered, ‘we all know your little scheme, you never invite us over’.

‘hey’ jungwon whisper shouted at the group of boys surrounding him, interfering so the two wouldn’t start bickering. ‘wouldn’t jake and y/n get suspicious over the fact we are grouped together in the corner of the couch whispering to each other?’.

‘dumb and dumber wouldn’t even notice if we threw a rock at their heads right now’ the group glanced over at the pair, their stiff positions and the small i’m-in-love smiles plastered on their faces were enough proof that the two were in la la land.

‘you guys meddled too?’ jungwon tilted his head in confusion.

‘why did you think riki was so confused when heeseung said he’d help him with world history?’ sunghoon sighed, ‘he doesn’t even do world history!’.

‘you could of told a better lie’ sunoo rolled his eyes, ‘jungwon and i had an amazing plan-’.

‘but heeseung! i don’t even do world history, why do i need help with homework?’ sunoo couldn’t understand why he kept getting interrupted.

‘i guess it would of been smarter to let riki into our plan’ jay rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

‘riki, i’ll explain! now get back in the kitchen, don’t you want to know who anne frank is?’ riki and heeseung entered the room, heeseung with a frantic look on his face while riki looked annoyed.

‘i know who anne frank is!’ riki frowned, ‘you weren’t even asking me about world history anyways! you kept asking me about our dance club, the one we are both in’.

‘i’ll talk about world history now! um, world war one?’

‘wait’ riki squinted his eyes at the jake and y/n, who were sitting rather close. ignoring the oldest’s question, he walked closer to the pair.

‘what is he doing...’ jungwon whispered.

‘are you two dating?’ the sudden question from the youngest’s mouth caused y/n to flinch in her seat.

‘oh my god’ sunoo blurted out.

‘did he just start plan c without even knowing what plan c was?’.

iii. PLAN C

‘no’ the group of boys didn’t know that one word could shock them, i mean they saw it coming but they didn’t know it would shake them up this much.

‘no it’s okay you can tell them y/n’ jake’s words only shocked the boys even more, their eyes widening in surprise to hear the almost confirmation of their relationship.

‘what do you mean? you said the letter in my locker wasn’t from you?’

‘it doesn’t mean i don’t don’t like you?’ jake said confidently.

‘wait...’ jungwon stared at the two, ‘you found our letter?’.

‘jungwon! you weren’t supposed to say it out loud’ sunoo scolded him through gritted teeth.

‘shut up’ jay whispered in their ears, ‘something’s gonna happen i can feel it’.

everyone could notice the red tinge on jake’s ears. they watched as he rubbed the back of his neck while y/n stared at him in utter confusion.

‘i like you, y/n’ the blushing boy said quietly but just loud enough that they could hear it. ‘i swear i was going to confess in a better way but i was kinda under pressure right now...’

‘oh?’ y/n tilted her head to the side, ‘i thought you rejected me?’

‘i did?’ jake looked as confused as everyone else in the room.

‘you told me on new year’s eve to wait and i thought that was you letting me down easy’.

‘you did?’ the bewildered look in jake’s eyes confused y/n even more.

‘that’s why you left early?’

‘i feel like they needed to speak about this a while ago’ sunoo whispered into jungwon’s ear.

‘it doesn’t matter now! what matters is that i like you too’ y/n smiled happily.

‘oh’ jake let out in surprise.

‘this is way more sickly than i thought this moment was gonna be’ jay mumbled bitterly.

‘so you two are dating?’ riki asked, not really processing what had just happened.

‘are we?’ jake turned to y/n.

‘yes’

the satisfaction knowing that they were the ones that played wingmen.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #kpop fluff #jake imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen jake imagine #jake scenarios #iland imagines #iland scenarios #jake x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #kpop x reader

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winter-fox-queen · 3 years

Text

Snagged the awesome Frankie pics for the above from the awesome @fuckyeahfranciscomorales / @beccaplaying

Hello!

OK. I have two more chapters of this story ready to go. This one is from Frankie’s POV. When last we left our heroes, Frankie found a post card in his mail that ruined the warm fuzzy date night the two of you were having. And now he’s doing the man thing where he retreats for your own good.

Next chapter has SMUT. I am nervous.

Warnings: The “I” character is a female, otherwise a blank slate. I hope it works as well as a self insert, if that’s something you enjoy reading. There is cursing. Angst.

Previous chapters are on my Masterlist, because it has be a while.

Chapter 4: Sadness and Regret

Frankie slouched in the cockpit of the old chopper. She’d been declaired grounded for good a few months ago, good for nothing but parts, but no one had the heart to start dismantling her. It should have been a safe space — the inside of any bird used to be — but he just felt an ache in the base of his heart, a wrongness, an itchiness.

He looked at the post card sitting propped on the control panel. It wasn’t a post card so much as a picture of two girls — Tom’s daughters — with a stamp stuck on it.

The back said, Don’t forget. It is all your fault.

He took pictures of front and back with his phone, opened the group chat, and posted.

Frankie: Look what I got in the mail. Anyone else hear from Molly?

He waited for a response, and he thought of you.

The way you’d laughed. Complimented everything. He’d felt genuinely happy, proud. Worthy.

And the way you’d responded to his touch. The way you stroked him, kissed him. The way you’d looked at him when he’d asked you if you wanted him. The sheer longing and desire had ripped right into his heart.

When he’d kissed your forehead, he’s thought, I could love you. I could fall so hard for you.

He’d thought, I could be so happy.

He’d give a good chunk of his soul to go back in time, put off getting the damned mail. Gone to bed with a grin on his face, dreaming about the next time he’d see you.

The post card was a reminder, alright. A reminder that he didn’t deserve to be happy. You wrote about violence, yes, but your good guys were always pure. You were naive. No one who ever held a gun was pure. He could practically see the blood tattooed on his hands. He could see the man in the kitchen, tied up, helpless, knowing the grim reaper was in the room and he wore Frankie’s face.

The phone pinged, startling him. He fumbled it open.

You. It was you. He closed his eyes. It almost hurt to read the words. Just checking on you. I think you got bad news in the mail? Are you ok?

Aw, sweetheart. He thought. He decided not to reply. Maybe you’d give up.

Will saved him from staring at your text, thinking if he should say something, anyway. Just a I’m ok?

Will: Fuck, Fish. You don’t really think Molly sent that?

Fish: Who else?

Pope: I went to check my mail after I got this. Check it out.

The picture took forever to load. It was a post card — a real one, this time. Of the Andes. The other side read “I will publish your names and addresses in every newspaper I can find, unless you tell me the truth.”

Will: Fuck. Why? What does she think she knows?

Benny: Guys.

And then the dancing dots indicating he was saying something else. Frankie held his breath. The dots stayed there a long time.

Benny: I went to see her. I didn’t tell her much, I swear. Just told her that we did a recce and things went wrong.

Fish: Benjamin, what the ever loving fuck did you do that for?

Benny: Fuck off, Fish, she deserved to know something.

Pope: I’ll go see her. I don’t like this.

Frankie hopped out of the chopper and shoved the picture, folded, into his back pocket. He took off his cap and ran his free hand through his hair. This is a nightmare. This is a fucking nightmare. He didn’t want to face her. He didn’t want to look at her daughters.

The phone binged again.

It was just Pope, not in the group chat.

Pope: Comin with?

Fish: Yeah. I’ll come pick you up.

****

The Davis house was munch as he remembered it…a decent, two story house with a large front yard, but it had put on a cloak of desolation all the same. Tom’s truck was parked to one side, the tires slowly sinking into the ground. The yard needed a mow. The windows looked dirty. Frankie shut off the engine, looked at Pope. Pope looked at him shook his head.

Frankie sighed. “Abandona la esperanza a todas las que entres aquí?”

Pope snorted. Abandon hope all ye who enter, indeed.

They got out of the truck. The daughters would be at school. Molly should be home.

The door bell was a cheerful, bright set of bells that seemed at odd with the rest of the house.

Molly opened the door. She looked well kept, but there was a thinness to her face, a coldness in her eyes. “So, I had to threaten you to get you to come here.”

“How did you know about Lorea?”

“¿Qué diablos, Pope?” Frankie asked. “Real subtle. Molly, can we come in and talk?”

“Sure. Why the hell not?” She held out an arm as if welcoming them in. They followed her into the family room.

“So, are we going to let Frank here try to do polite small talk, or do you want to tell me what I want to know, Pope? What I fucking deserve to know?” Molly sat in an armchair, sitting straight, hands tight on the arms.

“He has a point about Lorea.” Frankie said, a little stung and annoyed, “Where did you hear that name? And do you know how dangerous that name is?”

“Benny let it slip when he came here to try and be nice. Google did the rest. I used to be a good researcher. Once.”

“If you publish our names, he’s likely to come after you, too.” Frankie said. He’s sat on the couch opposite, leaning forward. He was pissed at Molly…he was. But he also liked her. He felt a weight of guilt whenever he saw her that was almost smothering, yes, but he also had a lot of good memories.

“It’s worth it. I want to know exactly what happened. And none of this bullshit about a recon gone wrong. Nothing makes sense. Tom’s death doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“So now you don’t care about your daughters?” Pope was leaning against the fake fireplace mantle, arms crossed.

“So what’s this? Good cop bad cop? I thought you’d be pouring that famous Santiago charm on me right now.”

“Molly…”. Frankie held out a hand.

“Tell me the fucking truth, Frankie.”

“We went on a recon mission.” Pope said. “We went after a drug dealer who was destroying the people of his country, and we had the chance to take him out. So we did. Unfortunately, Lorea’s men came after us. They shot Tom.”

“And the rest of you returned without a scratch?”

“Iron…Will got shot, but we were able to stitch him up.” Frankie said, quietly. “Tom had a good plan to get us out…that’s why we survived.”

She looked at her hands. Slipped them off the arm rest and into her lap. “And the money that oh so magically showed up in my account?”

“We recov…”. Pope started, stopped, then said, “We found it and stole it. We were all going to split it even, but with what happened to Tom…”

“That doesn’t make it better.” She said.

“No.” Frankie said. “But it was all we could do.”

She nodded. “It’s a shame, about that house, Frankie. The one your grandmother left you.”

“What? I don’t…”

“Because you’re going to have to move, because I bet there are people who would love to get their hands on the gringos who killed Lorea.” She laughed. “Maybe the government will deal with you…who knows? Illegal op, right?”

Pope’s laugh was incredulous. “Why does that do? Do you really think they’ll sent a hit team up from South America to take us out?”

“Frank thinks they will. I hope you never play poker Morales.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand…”. Frankie was in shock. Because his fear wasn’t at all that someone would want revenge. No.

“Fuck you, Morales…Santiago. And tell the Millers to go to hell, too. You took my husband away from me.”

“OK, OK, punish me. But not Frankie…not the others.” Pope raised his hands. “The whole thing was my idea. They went along just like Tom did.”

“But they survived. Now get out of my house.”

Back in the truck, where they started.

Pope gestured to the house. “It’s an empty threat. No one fucking cares what we did. No evidence, no proof…”

“They won’t care about proof. Not that I think they will care about Lorea.” Frankie said softly.

“Then what?” But Pope knew. He knew.

“They’re gonna want that money. And we can’t give it to them.”

Pope swallowed. “I’ll tell the Millers. We gotta come up with a plan.”

#frankie morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales fanfic #my fic

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kissingcullens · 3 years

Text

In the spirit of Sam and Cas being Weird Girl Best Friends and spending their spare time just hanging out, chatting about Angel Stuff and doing the odd experiment on Sam’s body—

A fanfic where they’re making conversation, Castiel describing what human experiences he finds underwhelming or unsettling— and which ones he actually enjoys, what he’d like to experience for the first time, etc.

And of course the topic of sex comes up-

“I haven’t had many “normal sexual experiences,” you might say. But I have enjoyed sex.”

“Oh yeah? Not a Peanut Butter and Jelly situation?”

“Not at all,” Castiel replies, “In fact I’ve been making a list of things I’d like to try, sexually, now that I have some “Me” time.”

“Ah, that’s great.” Sam smiles, tamping down on his own embarrassment around any frank discussion of sex. “It can be hard to meet people in our line of work, but there’s online dating now- could be a good place to start.”

“Yes. That’s one of the first things on my list; I understand there are cellphone apps specifically for gay men.”

Sam resists the urge to do a double take, but the surprise is clear in his voice, “Oh! You’re...? Interested in guys?”

“Yes.” Cas says, voice even and casual. But Sam sees there is a noticeable tension in Castiel’s body language that anyone else might have missed, “Not exclusively... but I would like the experience.”

Sam thinks, not for the first time, about the tragedy of an Angel learning human shame from a couple of incredibly fucked up human men, and mentally kicks himself.

“That’s cool!” He hurries to say, “I’m the same way... I mean I’m bi, and it’s definitely tougher to meet guys- there’s all these added barriers, you know?”

“Yes.” Castiel visibly relaxes and smiles.

Sam smiles back- it’s worth the hot embarrassment and the exposed feeling to see Castiel at ease again.

Sam huffs out a loud sigh and laughs, “You know what? I can probably count on one hand the amount of times I’ve actually said out loud the words ‘I’m bisexual,’ and almost all those times were when I was at Stanford.”

Castiel looks at him gravely, “I’m glad you trusted me with the information. I know that humans have... baggage around this.”

“Yeah— you too, Cas.” Sam smiles at him, then frowns, adding, “And I mean... Dean knows, it’s not a secret or anything. But we... we don’t really talk about it, you know?”

Castiel nods. “I understand.” After a few more threads of conversation, Cas digs out his phone, “Would you like to see my list? Let me know if you think I’m missing anything.” And he and Sam pore over Castiel’s Notes App list of “Sex Stuff to Try.” Which brings Sam to tears of laughter, Castiel frowning and asking “What’s funny?”

A few months later, after Cas has several disastrous internet dating encounters, they’re both hanging out in Sam’s room (as is their habit these days) talking about the latest dating debacle...

Sam, loosened up by beer and the open feeling of total acceptance and comfort he always has when he’s with Cas, suddenly exclaims,

“Hey!! What if WE had sex?”

At Cas’s blank look, Sam immediately shrinks back into himself, “No, you’re right, that’s weird, forget I mentioned it.”

“No, no, I’m not opposed ...it’s definitely an idea.” Castiel’s expression is thoughtful, and Sam relaxes slightly. “I do find you very attractive. But I don’t want you to do anything YOU don’t want to do, just to satisfy my curiosity.”

Sam kisses him.

Or he tries to- his head is swimming and the reality of being alone, buzzed, in his own bed with a hot guy who thinks he’s “very attractive” crashes down on him and he suddenly feels unbearably sexy. But Cas is too surprised to reciprocate, and he pulls away almost immediately, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“I think you’ve had a little too much.” Cas says gently.

Fuck- Sam feels shame wash over him- WHY had he drank so fucking much? (It wasn’t that much) Was he really SO buttoned up that a few beers and a little bit of sex talk got him embarrassing himself like this?? Why had he even opened his mouth???

Sam sits back and scrubs a hand over his face.

“Shit, I’m sorry...” He clears his throat, “But uh.. having sex wouldn’t be me doing you a FAVOR or something, Cas, I’m... I think you’re attractive too. I mean, I think you’re really hot, and you’re my best friend...” (shit, he IS embarrassing himself) “...but I dunno... I didn’t really think it through, it’s probably a bad idea... I mean it would probably be awkward, right?? I’ve never really done a friends-with-benefits thing.”

“Wouldn’t you know; “an awkward friends-with-benefits-thing” is on my List.” Castiel half-smiles, and Sam has to laugh, “But you may be right... let’s talk about it later and see if it’s something we want to try out.”

“Sorry. Yeah. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam. But I do think it’s time for bed now.”

“Yeah, you uh... sorry, would it make you uncomfortable to be in the same room tonight? I know you’ve been crashing here but I don’t want you to feel like you have to if I made it weird...”

“Not at all,” Cas assures him, then his eyes glimmer wickedly, “Unless that’s your way of saying that YOU need some Alone Time before you can get to sleep.”

Sam hits him with a pillow, “I take it back, you’re not sexy at all, you’re the worst!!”

But they’re both laughing, and Sam’s embarrassment breaks and dissipates into peals of laughter. They’re okay.

Cas does end up leaving to “get some research done,” and if Sam jerks off thinking about “satisfying Castiel’s curiosity” before slipping into boozy sex dreams, well, who can judge him?

Spoiler alert, of course they work it out and the fic is all about them making their way methodically down Castiel’s list of Sex Stuff to Try (with Sam’s own List making an appearance) and of course realizing they’re deeply, deeply in love by the end. ❤️

#Sastiel #sex cw #SamCas #alcohol cw #fluff #supernatural for ts #SPN for ts

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Riding High

Ch20: When The Bough Breaks

Chapter Summary: Fliss finds herself in an impossible position…and her decision tips Frank’s world upside down.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Don’t hate me…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 19

And this day’s ending is the proof of time, killing all the faith I know.

“Was that another one?” Frank asked as Fliss tossed her phone onto the coffee table with an angry snort.

She nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Frank sighed and looked at her “Honey…” “I know, I know…” she looked at him. “Look, I’ve made notes of every time I’ve had one so… its recorded. But again, it’s not like we can prove anything…they happen like twice a day and then nothing…hardly what they’ll call harassment.” Frank shifted slightly “This has been going on for 2 weeks now sweetheart.” “I’m well aware of that.” she snapped, before she shook her head “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get angry…not at you.” “Come here…” he said, opening his arms and she snuggled into him, leaning against his chest as his hand gently ran up and down her arm. “Maybe you should think about changing your number…and not putting the new one on the website.” “Yeah.” she conceded, “It’s not gonna help for work though…” “You can work round it.” he said, “Keep the business line and if you’re not there people will have to leave a message. Then, once you know your clients…you can give them your cell number.”

“Fucking ass hole is still making my life awkward.”

“Only if you let him. It’s a minor inconvenience to change your number but, if in the grand scheme of things all he has in his back pocket is sending you some dumbass birthday card and silent phone calls then…he’s just a pathetic fucking loser that’s trying to bully you into being scared.” “I’m not scared, just pissed off.” she shook her head “I know he’s a chicken shit, he wouldn’t dare come near me not when you’re on the scene…or my dad for that matter.” “Good, because if he did I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself.” Frank said softly.

“Maybe we should just pay someone to kill him.” Fliss said after a moment’s pause and Frank let out a snort “Bullet straight between the eyes.”

“Nah, too quick.” Frank sniffed, reaching for his beer “I’d dangle him over a tank of hungry sharks and lower him in inch by inch…”

“Or we could feed him to pigs, like in Hannibal.” Fliss mused.

“That’s also an option…no trace” he nodded taking a mouthful of beer.

“You know they should teach this shit at schools” Fliss reached for her own drink “How to get rid of bodies. I feel it is something everyone should be educated in.” “Maybe you should mention it to Bonnie. Tell her you feel it is an educational rite of passage or some other inspiring shit like that…”

Fliss laughed, placing her wine glass down and shifting so that she was led on her front, half on-half off Frank, looking up at him as her chin rest on his chest.

“On a scale of 1 to 10 how much of a meltdown are we facing with Mary on tomorrow morning?”

“From her current mood I’d suspect a good 4 and a half, maybe a 5.” he mused, before he looked at Fliss “I don’t much care, she’s going whether she wants to or not.” “When do the University Classes start again?”

“Not till second week in October.” Frank replied “Which reminds me, I need to submit that funding form tomorrow…” “It’s on the table.” Fliss said, as she correctly guessed from the look on his face he was pondering where he had put it.”

“What would I do without you?” he grinned down at her.

“I have absolutely no idea.” she shrugged and he smiled and leaned down pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Did you speak to Evelyn before?” Fliss asked him and he nodded.

“She’s coming down this weekend.” Frank said, “She’s still on about Mary going to Boston for a weekend.” “You still not comfortable about her going?” Fliss asked.

Frank wrinkled his nose “I don’t know if I trust her fully yet.” “You’ll never know you can unless you give her a chance.” Fliss reasoned

“You think I should let her go?” Frank said, slightly surprised.

“That’s not my decision to make, Frank” Fliss shook her head.

“No, but I value your opinion.” Frank looked at her. “Go on, tell me what you think.” Fliss hesitated for a moment before she sat up and turned her body so she was facing him, her legs tucked underneath her on the sofa. “If it was me in your position, I’d give Evelyn a chance. She’s played ball so far, done everything you’ve asked her to. You’ve got legal guardianship of Mary so she can’t pull any stupid stunts, and if Mary comes back and tells you something she did that you don’t like, well, you cut the visits.” Frank looked at Fliss before he took another drink from his beer bottle. He was torn in two. In one respect he wanted Mary to be happy and it certainly seemed that she enjoyed seeing Evelyn, but on flip side he was still more than comfortable with keeping his Mother at arm’s length.

“I’ll think about it.” he shrugged, non-committedly.

“Well, you should also ask Mary.” Fliss said “She might not even want to go.” “She will.” Frank said, “Evelyn has a piano.” Fliss laughed “Yeah, but she’s also bossy, remember?”

“Yeah, I had heard that.” Frank said, and Fliss chuckled again.

“Well, can you not think about it right now?” she said, taking the beer bottle out of his hand.

“Hey…” he pouted as she put it down on the table, his pout soon turned into a smirk as Fliss moved so she was straddling him on the sofa, his t-shirt that she’d been lounging around in rode up her thighs slightly and his hands rubbed up the side of her bare skin. “Something on your mind baby girl?”

“What makes you think that?” she asked, sliding her hands up his chest, over the soft material of his top.

“Just a hunch…” he mumbled, as he reached up and gently gripped the back of her neck, pulling her head down to meet his.

****** “Hey Frank…”

Frank looked up and smiled at Alan as he walked into the work shop.

“Hey Alan, not seen you in a while, how you doing?” “Good…I’m good. I was just wondering if I could have a word in my office.”

“Sure.” Frank frowned “Is err, everything ok?” “Oh, yeah, it’s nothing to worry about…quite the opposite in fact…” “Alright, well me just finish piecing this oil filter together and I’ll be with you.”

“Sure.” Alan said, “No rush.”

Frank quickly tightened the filter back up, gave it the once over before he set down his tools and hopped off the boat, wiping his hands on a rag before he walked through the door at the back of the workshop and down the small corridor that led to the main office at the rear of the shop. He knocked sharply on the door and then swung it open as Alan looked at him, gesturing for him to take a seat whilst he finished up his call. Eventually, he bid the person on the other end good bye and placed the receiver down.

“Relax, Frank…” Alan chuckled as Frank adjusted his jeans for what felt like the 30th time since sitting down.

“Sorry.” Frank nodded, scratching at his temple. “So errr, do you need me to do something or...” “In a manner of speaking, yes.” Alan said “As you know Paul is retiring at the end of the year, which means the Head Mechanic role is up for grabs…and I was wondering if you’d be interesting in taking the position.” “Me?” Frank’s eyes widened slightly

Alan nodded “I know in the grand scheme of things you haven’t been here long but you’ve impressed me, just like Bill said you would. You knuckle down, you do the overtime if needed, you don’t complain…I like you Frank, and the team does to.” “I err…” Frank scratched the back of his neck. “I’m flattered…but I’ve never managed a team before or…”

“You were an Assistant Professor at one stage right?” Alan eyed him and Frank sighed, nodding “You must have had a research team…” “Yeah, but…” “It’s no different.” Alan shook his head, “And I’m here to help and give you some guidance. I’m not quite ready to retire fully yet. Not like Bill, only so much golf I can play before I go fucking nuts.” Frank snorted “Yeah, not gonna lie, it’s not my thing…” Alan looked at him “The duties won’t be that much different Frank. You’ll just be in charge of booking the jobs in, allocating them to the guys, keeping on top of deadlines and general management of the team…means a little less time spent actually getting your hands dirty but…well, you can manage that yourself. You wanna take a job you take it.”

“Can I take a bit of time to think it over?” he asked.

“Sure. Take a few days, let me know. I’d like to have whoever is taking over in a position to start the handover by the start of October if possible so…” “Thanks.” Frank nodded “I’ll give it some thought.” “Oh, and it also comes with a Ten thou a year raise…” Alan casually dropped in as Frank stood up “Plus a bonus each year of up to 20 percent, depending on how well you’ve done on your targets” “Just a minor detail you forgot to tell me.” Frank arched an eyebrow.

“Well, I wanted to make sure you’d consider it for the right reasons not merely the financial incentive.” Alan shrugged “Another reason I’m convinced you’re perfect for the job.” Frank nodded and with that he left the office. Given that it was almost lunch time he took his break 15 or so minutes earlier and headed out into the September sun, pulling out his phone.

“Hey Sailor.” Fliss greeted him.

“Hey Cowgirl.” he smiled, leaning against the hood of his truck sipping a bottle of water “You got a sec.” “For you, always. What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing bad anyway…I just got offered a promotion.”

“Frankie that’s amazing!” She gushed “You sound surprised though.” “I am, a little.” he said, before he launched into an explanation of what Alan had told him and what the job would entail, plus the financial incentives.

“Wow!” she said as he finished talking “Baby, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you!”

Frank felt himself blushing at her praise, and despite the fact he couldn’t even see her he rubbed at his neck slightly. “So, you think I should take it?” “Of course I do. But at the same time, if you don’t want to then…you don’t have to. This is a great position to be in honey, Alan’s clearly seen your potential.”

“Just not sure If I’m cut out to be management.” he said, biting his lip.

“I had the same thoughts about my business you know.” she spoke gently “I wasn’t sure if setting up on my own after everything that happened was gonna work but then Dad told me that I’d never know unless I took the plunge. Have a little faith in yourself. The only person who doubts your capability is you.”

Frank smiled at her words and looked up and out over the Marina “You always know exactly what to say.” “Not really, I make most of it up as a go along.” she said and Frank laughed. “But, just think, with the extra money you can get a new car…” “There’s nothing wrong with my truck.” “Frank, it’s died on you 4 times in the last 2 weeks. Dad reckons his ride on lawnmower has more power under the hood than that thing”

“Ok, I’ll admit…she’s getting a little clunky…but she is into her twenties now….” Fliss snorted “You could get yourself a nice Audi…”

“Fuck off.” Frank said and she laughed

“I like Simon’s car…” “You like it so much you get one.”

“Would never fit Thor in the back.” she said and Frank had to concede she had a point “But now you’re freelancing…you don’t actually need a truck do you?” “No, but…it’s handy…” “Handy, baby it only has three seats…” “And a flatbed…” Frank pouted slihglty. “So get one with five seats.” she shrugged. “You can buy trucks with a full cab…”

“This is not a good enough reason to get me to take the promotion…”

“You want a better reason?” She said. “Ok, well here’s some food for thought…when the lease is up on our place maybe we could look into buying. You know I don’t wanna rent forever, I want us to have something for the future that’s ours, and the extra money you get a year would make a difference in what we can borrow towards it.” And just like that, as always, she’d managed to sideswipe him. He’d be lying if he hadn’t considered getting back on the property market, he had savings after all…but he’d given it no more thought than a fleeting idea every now and then when he drove past places with real estate signs in the front yards

“This mean you’re coming round to the idea of marrying me and having baby Franks and Flisses?” She snorted “You’re such a dick…although that’s the only time you’ve ever mentioned that when you’re sober.” “So you’re saying that if I ask you when I’m not drunk you’d say yes?” he teased. “Goodbye Frank…” She teased in an airy voice, before she cut the call.

Chuckling to himself he slid the phone back into his pocket and headed back inside to grab his lunch from the fridge in the kitchen. As he did so he passed Paul who was heading out with a fresh cup of coffee.

“Oh, erm…Alan…” Frank looked at him. “So, turns out I don’t need as much time to think about it as I thought I did. I’ll take the job.” Alan smiled at him and pat him on the shoulder “Good man. I’ll get the wheels in motion and then we can work out how we start to transfer Paul’s responsibilities over.”

Frank nodded at him as he walked off.

“Oh…” Alan called after him, “We’ll also need to pick your car.”

“My car…” Frank frowned.

“Yeah, did I not mention? Paul’s BM…that’s a company car. I’m gonna let him keep it as a retirement present so we’ll need to order you another one. Not least because I don’t want my Head Mechanic driving around in that heap of shit you have. Looks like we don’t pay you enough…” Frank stood there, eyebrows raised as Alan simply smirked at him and left. Shaking his head, he gave a little groan, already imagining Fliss’ face when he told her.

*****

Fliss had reacted exactly how he had thought she would, laughing hysterically and then teasing him about how he had no alternative now than to get rid of the heap of shit he was ridiculously attached to. She’d then spent the evening looking at cars on her phone, showing him ridiculously pimped out vehicles in various vile colours, the final straw being a hot-rod red for Mustang with gold rims and flames painted down the side. At that point he’d snatched the phone out of her hand, grabbed her hips and pulled her down under him on the couch and given her something else to think about for half an hour or so.

September ticked by, in the usual speed by which time seemed to be flying for Frank and he found himself thrown into his job, soaking up Paul’s experience of managing the team as much as he could. He was also extremely grateful for both Fliss and Bill’s input, both of them having dealt with managing staff and rotas so he was able to ask them both questions as well. Naturally, when V heard about it she insisted on cooking him a special dinner, and even Evelyn presented him with a very nice bottle of Scotch when she came to visit as a Congratulations.

Another bit of good news for them was that once Fliss changed her phone number the calls stopped as well. Frank was glad about that, because it meant that once again they’d thwarted the ass holes attempts to intimidate her. She’d made a blog, however, of every call she had gotten which now sat in Greg’s files along with the Card. Just in case.

Nope, on the whole life seemed to be going well for the pair of them.

“Someone’s looking smug…” Greg teased Frank as he leaned back in the chair around Greg’s large outdoor table. It was a Saturday at the start of October and they’d finally got round to having that cook out and gathering that the Circle of Truth had been attempting to organise round everyone’s schedule for the last 3 months.

“Well, you know…life’s pretty good.” Frank smiled, sipping his beer, his eyes straying to Fliss who was stood around the bar area to the right of the garden with Bonnie, Zara and Lisa. She was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a tie-died off the shoulder sweater but as usual, she looked stunning.

“You got a ring yet?” Jake asked, dropping down into a seat next to him.

“Oh don’t you start as well.” Frank groaned as Simon and Greg both laughed. “We’re happy as we are…besides, we’ve not even been together a year yet…” “Not far off.” Jake shrugged “Man, when you know you know…” “He’s just scared she’ll say no.” Simon teased. Frank stilled for a moment and then turned to glare at the man. “Shit, you are?” Simon frowned “No, not especially but…” Frank shook his head, trying to find the words to explain “I’m absolutely, totally convinced I want to spend the rest of my life with her, and I know she feels the same but…well she’s been married before and I don’t want to ask until I know she’s ready to do it again.”

Greg looked at him, nodding “I get that.”

“That’s gotta be the most grown up think you’ve ever said…” Jake looked at Frank who flipped him off but deep down he had to admit, it wasn’t wrong. He knew that both he and Fliss had come a long way from the people they had been just over 14 months ago when they had first met. Fliss had come alive, flourished even in herself, and he…well, he’d learnt that there was more to life than the meaningless cycle of one night stands and that flying by the seat of his pants wasn’t always the most productive thing to do. Both of them had been broken in their own way, had their own guards and walls around themselves which the other had managed to smash straight through. He stole another glance at Fliss and smiled, he knew there was no other woman for him, but in the same breath…what was the rush? They had a life time. And a ring and a piece of paper wasn’t going to change any of that.

“Man you grew up…” Simon grinned and Frank rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’ll have you know I’ve brought up a kid since the age of 6 months…all this shit about me being a man child…It’s crap…”

“Whatever man…we all know you’re not a grown up until you have scatter cushions on your sofa…” Simon teased, referencing the previous week when he and Bonnie had come over for drinks and Fliss and Frank had had a jokey argument about said cushions. Frank threw his head back in a huge bout of laugher, shaking his head.

“Fuck you!” he said, looking at him as Simon grinned.

“Anyway, man…speaking of weddings…” Greg turned to Jake “You’ve been engaged for what? Three years now…when you gonna set a date?”

“He has a point…” Simon looked at him.

“Well, you can all shut the fuck up because for your information we have.”

“Shut the front door!” Greg grinned

Jake nodded and took a large mouthful of his beer.

“So you gonna tell any of us or…” Jake glanced over at Lisa before he yelled her name and she looked over at him, the other women also looking up.

“Can we tell them now babe?” he called. Lisa grinned and nodded, and then made her way over followed by Zara. Fliss looked at Bonnie who shrugged, and the two of them picked up their drinks and followed.

Fliss perched on Frank’s knee and he slid one hand round her waist the other dropped to her thigh.

“So, we have set a date for the wedding.” Lisa smiled to a huge shriek from Zara. Frank spotted Fliss looking at Bonnie, the two of them sharing a significant smirk and he squeezed her thigh.

“Stop being a bitch.” he said in a low voice.

“Rude…” she mumbled, grinning into her gin. “6th April next year…” Jake grinned. “At Hardemans Secret Garden in Dover, Tampa.” “Well unless you invented a time machine, it ain’t gonna be this year is it?” Simon looked at him, before he gave a yell as Bonnie slapped him round the back of the head.

“Obviously you’re all invited.” Jake said, “Except for Simon.” “Hang on, if he isn’t coming does that mean I can’t?” Bonnie pouted.

“You can be my plus one.” Fliss nodded.

“Oi…” Frank nipped her thigh gently. She grinned at him, ruffling his hair slightly. He jerked his head out of her reach and looked at her over his aviators. She stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned.

“Guys this is great news…” Greg said, nodding “Best dig the suit out.” “You wear a suit to work every day.” Zara looked at him.

“And you won’t need to.” Jake shook his head. “In fact none of you will…my brother is best man, obviously, but I’d like you guys there as my Groomsmen…that is, if you’re up for it.” Frank smiled at Greg, then Simon before they all shrugged.

“Yeah, I’m in…” Greg smiled.

“Me too pal, I’m honoured.” Frank smiled, tipping his beer bottle in Jake’s direction.

“Does this mean we get to plan the Batchelor party?” Simon asked. Jake nodded with a grin and Simon leaned back “Oh this is gonna be beautiful….”

***** “You’re fucking mental.” Frank looked at Fliss as she shrugged, circling Cap back round to the jump which Joanne had just hiked up another foot. He shook his head and turned away “I can’t watch.” “Don’t’ be a chicken Frank.” Mary grinned up at him, “It’s cool…I wanna do that some day.” “Over my dead body.” Frank looked down at her.

“Yeah you said that about me going to Boston.” “No, that’s not what I said.” Frank sighed, looking at her “I said over my dead body were you going to live with Evelyn….and did you?” “No…” Mary conceded “But you’re letting me go back for a weekend.”

“Yes, because you’re going for 2 nights and coming home” he said, and despite himself he turned his head to see Fliss sail Cap over the huge jump.

“See….” Fliss said, pulling the horse up to a stop “Easy…” “Whatever you say sweetheart.” he shook his head.

“Can I jump Monty soon?” Mary asked, and Fliss smiled.

“Yeah we can do a little cross pole…” “I give in…” Frank groaned, throwing his hands out to the side “The pair of you are nuts.”

“Says the guy who almost cried when he had to order a new car.” Fliss looked at him and Frank rolled his eyes “I mean who does that?” “Yeah Frank…” Mary said, swinging off the fence to the paddock, leaning back to look at him. “You get to swap a rust bucket for a shiny new Mitsubishi and you were like heartbroken.” “Hey, me and that truck have seen a lot of action-“ “I don’t wanna know…” Fliss started.

“Of which you’ve been part of…” he smirked her and she flushed a little, grinning. “I’m kinda attached to it.” “It’s a lump of metal.” Fliss looked at him.

“How dare you.” Frank scoffed, feigning offence.

“Well now you can have new adventures in the new truck.” Mary shrugged “Simples.” “When you do get it I vote the first thing we do is load it up and head off for a picnic somewhere.” Fliss said, hopping off Cap.

“I can go with that.” Frank nodded as she turned and walked towards the gate, letting her out.

“Can I take him?” Mary asked, hopping down off the fence.

“Sure…” Fliss said, handing her the reins. Mary led the horse away to the barn as Fliss removed her hat and pulled out her bobble, shaking her long hair free before she tied it back up again.

“I really do like it that colour.” Frank mused after a second, watching her. She blushed a little, and he knew why. A week ago she’d come back from the salon, her usually bright auburn hair was a lot more demure, having had caramel put through the ends. When Frank had complimented her on the change she’d gotten a little shy and said that she used to have it like that when she was younger, but John had always wanted her to keep it her natural colour. Now she felt like she fancied a change. Her admission had once again, knocked Frank for, how simple little things like that were so huge for her.

She pulled off her riding gloves, shoved them into her back pocket and they walked into the barn as Mary opened Cap’s stable and led him inside. As always, the large horse bowed his head gently to allow Mary to undo his bridle and Fliss smiled. Cap was secretly her favourite after Heidi. He was such a loving animal, despite his size always being so gentle and careful around people, especially Mary. Most animals were like that around her, she just had this aura that they seemed to like. But then again, everyone said that animals were a good judge of character.

“Can we go to the shack for dinner?” Mary spoke up, looking at Frank “It is Saturday…”

“Oh, I dunno…” Frank sighed, “Not sure my heap of shit truck will get us there.” “No but Fliss’ jeep will.” Mary shrugged and Frank shook his head with a snort.

“You literally have an answer for everything.”

“Wonder where she gets that from…” Fliss looked at him and he nudged her gently with his elbow.

“So can we go or not?”

“Yes, ok we can go to the shack.” Frank said “But the deal is you tidy your room when you get home. It’s a disgrace.” Mary pondered this for a moment as Fliss undid the girth on Cap’s saddle, pulling it off.

“Deal.” she nodded “Only Fliss said she was gonna help me sort my clothes out…some of them don’t fit anymore.”

“Yeah we do that tomorrow morning.” Fliss smiled, “Then we can look at ordering you some warm stuff for New York.” “Are we still getting matching sweaters when we get there?” “No.” Frank said, at the same time Fliss nodded.

“Yes.” “No, we’re not.” Frank looked at her.

“Errr 2 vs 1 Sailor, you’re outvoted.” she shrugged, pushing past him with the saddle on her arms. “But if you’re a good boy we’ll let you pick them right Mary?” “I dunno.” Mary frowned “Have you seen his shirts?” Fliss let out a roar of laughter and turned to face her, before she looked at Frank, laughing even harder at the pure indignation on his face.

“I hate you both.” he said sullenly, folding his arms.

The Shack was busy by the time they arrived but given that it wasn’t too cold they managed to find a small table outside and ordered their food, Mary getting through an astonishing amount considering but the Frank had noticed she was going through a bit of a growth spurt which he mentioned to Fliss when they were snuggled up on the sofa later.

“Not sure getting her any stuff for New York yet is wise.” he mused “If she carries on like she is it won’t fit her.”

“Well we can wait…Fliss said shrugging, her hand rubbing at Frank’s stomach under his shirt. “You have no idea how excited I am…” “Really?” Frank snorted “You never mentioned it.” “Oh piss off” she laughed, before she sighed happily “It’s the one thing I miss about home and Boston…you know this time of year the leaves would be changing colour and falling,…”

“I know what you mean.” he said, his hands carding through her hair “You don’t really Seasons here.”

“Well you do…” Fliss said, “Hurricane and Summer.” Frank let out a laugh as she looked up at him. “You know you’re my hurricane.”

“What?” he looked at her

“Came into my life, blew it all upside down…” “Jesus you talk some shit!” he laughed, shaking his head as she grinned.

“You know there was actually a hurricane Frank back in 2010. So I’m not talking complete shit…” “Whatever Sweetheart…” he snorted, leaning back as her nails scratched against his stomach. He gave a twitch and grabbed her wrist, and looked down at her as she flashed him a coy look. “Stop it.”

“What, this?” she moved and used her other hand, and Frank let out a hiss as he shifted and grabbed that one too.

“You know what that does to me…” he looked at her, his voice low.

“Yup.” she nodded, grinning.

With a jerk of his arms he pulled her forward so she fell onto him fully, drawing a giggle from her as her nose bumped against his.

“I fuckin’ love you.” he smiled at her, and she grinned, giving him a soft kiss.

“Yeah, you’ve told me once or twice…” she smirked, her lips locking onto his.

******

“Fliss?”

“Office…” she called back, and a second or so later Joanne popped her head into the room.

“Everything’s done.” she said, “I was gonna lock up…you’re not normally here this late.”

“Yeah I know but I have some paper work to sort. Need to file a couple of things and, well, thought it would be easier to do it here than take everything home. Frank’s taken Mary bowling so…” “And you’d rather be here doing paper work?” Joanne teased.

“Sadly, it needs doing…besides, last time we went I kicked his ass, again, he sulked for hours.” Fliss snorted “Maybe he stands more of a chance against Mary.”

“Won’t he let her win?” Joanne asked “I mean, she is only eight…”

“No chance.” Fliss looked at Jo. “He says that she needs reminding every now and then that she’s not a genius at everything…” Joanne let out a laugh “Fair enough. Ok, well I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, bye Jo…”

Fliss set about getting to work, filing the various bills and disclaimers she’d had signed and started then sifting through the list of clients and payments, checking who owed what and typing out the bills for the month. Once they were printed and placed in envelopes, ready to be tacked to the stable doors in the morning she glanced at the clock and realised it was almost 8 pm. Frank and Mary should be home now.

She was just about to pack up when she realised she hadn’t gone through the post for the day. For a second she debated leaving it for the morning, but decided she would get it over with. There wasn’t much- mostly a couple of letters from various equestrian societies around the area about a few events going on, but the last one she reached was a manila envelope with the address typed out on the front.

She turned it over, opened it and then pulled out the contents and immediately felt her blood run cold as she looked at the paper in front of her. It was a copy of the photo of her and Mary, taken from the first Blog that Mary had written over the summer. Underneath it was typed a simple message- I always knew you’d suit motherhood.

Fliss swallowed, it didn’t take a genius to work out who it was from but for the first time since his ridiculous campaign now she was actually frightened as to the meaning behind this. Up until now it he’d been nothing more than annoying but this was designed to be more than an aggravation.

It was a threat. A direct threat telling her he knew about Mary.

Whilst Fliss wasn’t Mary’s mother, and would never claim to be she loved that girl like she was her own and the fact that John was even brining her into this made her feel physically sick, so much so that she felt the bile rising in her throat and with a sharp heave she lurched to the side, grabbing the waste paper basket and hocking up the bitter substance. Coughing she wiped the back of her mouth with a shaking hand, reaching for the bottle of water on her desk.

She folded the photo up and stuck it back in the envelope, shoving it in the drawer before she stood up and locked her office, heading to her jeep. Her mind was reeling, now it wasn’t just her he was focussing on, this changed everything. Did she tell Frank? She knew she should, she couldn’t leave Mary in danger. Not that she believed any harm would come to her, not really, especially not under Frank’s care but that was another worry she had. That if she told Frank this, it was really going to push him over that edge into blind rage, and he’d been on the first plane out to Boston, hunting the fucker down…and then what?

He ended up in jail himself because Fliss knew Frank well enough to understand that if that blind rage took hold, he wouldn’t stop.

She had no answer to this, nothing. She sat in her jeep, staring out of the window, trying to force the thoughts and mumbles and voices in her heat to quiet, so she could think clearly, get some form of grasp on what it was she needed to do. And then one voice was screamed at her, clearly, giving her a solution…the only one she could viably see working.

With a loud sob, Fliss covered her face in her hands, unable to see an alternative to the decision she had just reached. A decision that was going to break her heart more than anything had ever done before.

******

“Hey, you’re late…” Frank looked up, immediately frowning as he saw Fliss’ face. “Honey…what…” “Where’s Mary?” she asked instantly.

“She nipped to Roberta’s” Frank said “I know it’s late but we saw her as we were headed out of the car and she wanted to collect something for Show and Tell tomorrow…why?”

“We need to talk.” Fliss said.

Frank stood up off the sofa and walked towards her, he reached for her and she took a step back.

“Ok, Fliss, you’re scaring me now…what…”

“I think…” Fliss looked down at her hands “I think that we need to stop seeing each other.”

Frank blinked, not sure he had heard her right, but when he looked at her he saw a tear trickling down her face and she was avoiding his gaze. The world around him began to fade and a dull buzzing filled his head and rang around his ears as a horrible cold feeling washed over him.

“Lissy…” he swallowed, his words sticking in his throat “What’s brought this on? Did I do something? Are you not happy? I don’t understand…” “I just…it isn’t working for me…” she took a deep breath and looked up at him.

“You’re lying.” he said instantly, he could see it written all over her face “Fliss, what’s going on?” “Nothing, I’m sorry. I just…I need to leave, I need space.” she said “I’m so sorry Frank…” Frank took a deep breath, and watched as she turned to leave. After a second he hurried after her into the hallway, shaking his head.

“Lissy, please…talk to me…” he all but begged as she walked to the door. She made to open it but Frank was behind her and placed his hand firmly on the top of the PVC, causing it to shut. She spun round and looked up at him, the tears now pouring down her face.

“Please, Frank…don’t make this any harder than it is…” her voice was broken, and she shook her head. “I don’t understand what THIS is?” he looked at her, running a hand through his hair as he felt the stinging of tears in his own eyes “Last month we were talking about buying a house together and now you just wanna break it off, for no reason? Honey, just…whatever is going on, we can work through it, just talk to me.”

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, “Just…let me out…please…”

He looked at her again, her eyes bouncing across his and he knew instantly he couldn’t stop her, and would never do that to her either, no matter how much he so desperately wanted to lock the door and force her to tell him what the fuck was going on. So with a sniff he forced himself to step back and her hand went to the door knob, her shoulders shaking.

“Liss, please…” his voice cracked. “Don’t do this…”

She took a deep breath and opened the door, the warm air from outside hit him in the face, tears stinging his eyes slightly before click of the latch hit his ears as the door shut behind her, leaving him stood alone in the hallway, stunned and utterly, utterly broken.

**** Chapter 21

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

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In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 6: End of the Rope

Chapter 5

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Claire was supposed to be looking at charts on the computer in front of her, and she would, of course, right after she finished checking her phone for any messages from Mrs. Lickett.

“Beauchamp!”

Fuck.

“That’s the third time I’ve caught you on your phone. You trying to get fired on your first day?”

Her supervisor, Doctor Moore, was the most Nurse Ratched type Claire had ever seen in real life: tyrannical and unforgiving. The only difference was the grating nasality of her thick Long Island accent. Claire opened her mouth to defend herself, for the third time, but Ratched cut her off.

“Plenty of other doctors have kids at home, Doctor Beauchamp. Do you see any of the rest of them with their heads buried in their phones like teenagers?”

Claire could feel the tips of her ears growing hot with rage, but she swallowed it down and answered as levelly as possible: “No, Doctor Moore.”

“Get going. Your team is waiting for you.”

Claire exhaled heavily as soon as the tight-faced woman bustled out of the room, clenching her teeth to avoid outwardly groaning.

“The Ratched already on your nerves?”

Claire practically jumped out of her skin. She turned in the swiveling chair to see a kind-faced black man about her age, perhaps a bit older, smiling at her. He was sitting at a computer as well, craning his neck around to look at her. His eyes were dark, but soft.

“Did you read my bloody mind?” Claire stammered, still slightly alarmed.

He gave a short, barking laugh. “Seems I did. Everyone calls her that. Not to her face, mind you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Claire’s eyes widened at the thought of doing so.

“I’m Joe, Joe Abernathy.” He stood and crossed the room to shake her hand.

“Claire Beauchamp,” Claire returned, taking his hand.

He chuckled as he returned his hand to his side.

“What?” Claire said, face scrunching in suspicion.

“Just thinking about you asking if I read your bloody mind,” he said, flashing his teeth in a wide grin. “I heard you were English, but to hear it is another thing.”

Claire rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress her own smile as she turned back to the computer to complete her given task.

“Kids at home, huh?” His tone was sympathetic, having heard Doctor Moore’s reaming out of Claire.

“Just one,” Claire said. “I’m quite aware there are other parents here,” she continued hotly, though her anger was not directed at the man standing before her. “But I’d like to know how many of them are single parents of a daughter with special needs.”

Joe nodded in quiet understanding. “That must be tough, leaving her all day.”

Claire nodded, fighting the urge to check her phone again. “I’ve never left her alone with a babysitter this long. When I was in school I was still married, so she wasn’t ever alone for too long even though her father was a professor. After the move and the new schedules…I’m just worried.” All the while, Claire kept her eyes on the screen, scanning over charts and making mental notes. “The woman’s a marvel; I wouldn’t have hired her if she wasn’t. I just can’t help it. She’s nonverbal, my daughter. Autism.”

“Ah.” Joe nodded. “Gotcha.”

“So I just keep waiting for a call that she’s having a meltdown and that even the all-knowing, licensed professional can’t calm her down because she can’t tell her what’s wrong.” Claire shook her head, sighing. “It’s silly, I know.”

“Nah, not at all.” Joe shrugged, keeping his tone casual, but his eyes still shone with sympathy.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload my whole life story on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get it. I’ve never personally known anyone with autism, but you see it come in and out of the hospital often enough. It’s scary as hell when there’s something wrong and they can’t tell you, even the verbal ones sometimes.”

“Right.”

“I didn’t mean to make you worry more,” he said quickly. “I’m sure everything is just fine. All I’m saying is I get why you’re worried. And Ratched sure as hell doesn’t. I’d like to tell her to kiss my ass.”

Claire chuckled through her nose, taking note of one more thing on the computer before turning to smile up at him.

“Thanks, Doctor Abernathy.”

“Please, none of that in private.” He waved her off. “Just Joe when there are no patients.”

“Alright, then.” Claire logged off the computer and gathered her things. “Thanks, Joe.”

“No problem. Good luck out there, Lady Jane.”

She paused in the doorway. “What was that?”

He grinned. “One of the other residents called you that. Said your accent sounds like you just had tea with the queen.” He held up his hands, pantomiming holding a teacup and saucer, sticking his pinky out.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” Claire laughed, rolling her eyes as she wrenched the door open.

“Toodle-pip, my lady!” She heard him call behind her.

Christ, was she doomed to have nicknames thrown at her reminding her of her Englishness for all eternity?

Her heart warmed at the thought of that soft Scottish burr saying Sassenach, and more laughter bubbled in her chest at the thought of her newest title.

She supposed she didn’t mind.

——

Claire was dead on her feet by the time eight o’clock rolled around. She briefly glanced back at the hospital in her rear-view mirror as she pulled away, and despite how her head and feet throbbed, she was thrilled at the prospect of every day being like this one.

When she’d done her research on specialities back in the days before med school, she’d read of the unpredictability of Emergency Medicine, of never knowing what kinds of emergencies would burst through the doors at any given moment. The prospect had thrilled her then, and experiencing it first-hand now was even more thrilling. Today alone, she’d saved a man’s finger after a cooking knife incident, put a shoulder back in place, stopped a head wound from bleeding long enough to see the patient into a successful surgery, and saved a pregnant woman and the baby after trauma-induced labor from a car accident.

It was quite a heady feeling.

Despite the thrill, however, there was nothing Claire craved more than the sight of her little girl’s face, the sound of her happy humming to see that Mummy was home.

The whole day had gone by without a hitch, unless Mrs. Lickett was hiding something from her. The only updates she’d gotten were positive ones, prompted by Claire’s frantic “is everything ok??” texts.

Claire had washed up and changed out of her scrubs at the hospital so that she could spend whatever little time was left before Faith’s bedtime with her on the couch, and then she could fully shower and decompress once Faith was asleep.

Claire turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door, but before she could take a single step into the living room, a little body was plastered against her legs, wrapping itself tightly around her.

“Hello, baby!” Claire cried out joyously as a buzz of humming filled her ears. “Oh, Mummy missed you so much!” She pried her daughter off her legs and scooped her into her arms, dropping her bag on the porch. Claire held her close, kissing her cheek.

Faith nuzzled her face into Claire’s, rubbing her mother’s cheeks as their foreheads rested together.

“Hello love,” Claire whispered, rocking her gently in the doorway. “I missed you, too, baby. Yes, hello.”

Claire gradually moved them into the apartment, kicking her bag inside and nudging the door shut with her knee.

“Hello, Mrs. Lickett,” Claire said, struggling to meet her eye around Faith’s pawing of her face.

The older woman was smiling warmly. “Hello, Miss Beauchamp.”

“Everything was alright today, then?”

“Sure was,” Mrs. Lickett said. “Faith was a very good girl, right Faith?”

“Is that right, lovie? Were you a good girl for Mrs. Lickett?” Claire shifted her onto one hip and bounced her, eliciting a few giggles. A glance at the telly told her that Finding Nemo was nearing its end; Mrs. Lickett had paused it upon Claire’s arrival.

“How was the first day at the hospital?” Mrs. Lickett said, gathering her things.

“It was…a lot. But good, very good.” Claire crashed on the couch with Faith, trying to settle her and failing. Faith very firmly insisted on remaining in Claire’s lap. “I did miss her very much, though. It’s been a while since I’ve been away from her for so long.” She wrapped her arms around her and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head.

“I understand. I could tell she missed you, too, but I kept her pretty busy.”

“I appreciate that.”

“We started some basic signs today,” Mrs. Lickett beamed. “Might be a while before it registers, but at least she knows now. The more you start using them around her, the better.”

“Right.” Claire nodded. “I’ve been watching those videos you sent me every night.”

“That’s good.”

Faith made a rather indignant noise, pointing toward the telly.

“Somebody wants to get back to her movie,” Mrs. Lickett said.

“Right.” Claire forced a smile. She wanted to stop her from leaving, to sit down at the table and spend the entire night talking about every minute of the entire day, every little accomplishment, everything Faith was learning. But she supposed if she wanted that much involvement, she’d be home with them herself instead of pursuing a career as a full-time physician.

Jesus, Beauchamp. You sound like Frank.

Shuddering at the thought, Claire adjusted Faith so she could watch Mrs. Lickett go. “I’d see you out, but I’m a bit pinned down at the moment.” She gestured with her head to Faith, sitting in her lap and locking her grip on Claire’s arms around her.

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Say goodnight, Faith,” Claire said, releasing an arm so she could wave to the woman. Faith mimicked her, waving emphatically as Mrs. Lickett shut the door behind her. The second she was gone, Faith groaned again at the telly, and Claire smiled.

“Alright, be patient.” Claire reached for the remote on the coffee table. “I’m quite eager to see if Nemo escapes to the ocean, as well.”

Claire, of course, had the movie memorized, along with the rest of the DVDs in their vast collection. Perhaps it was Faith rubbing off on her, but she didn’t think she’d ever tire of watching them over and over again, especially not if it meant she would always get to spend this time cradling her little girl.

When the movie ended about fifteen minutes later, Faith slipped out of Claire’s lap and waited expectantly by the DVD player. Normally, Faith liked to listen to the music during the ending credits, so Claire didn’t make any moves to take the disc out yet. Only when Faith grunted and started tugging on Claire’s hand did she get the message.

“No music tonight, darling?” she said, puzzled, as she removed the disc and handed the box to Faith to file away. She was buzzing with excitement. Something was up, and Claire was none the wiser. The very second the DVD was away, Faith bolted into her bedroom, leaving Claire bewildered. She’d only just started to get up when Faith returned, holding a pile of colorful paper in her hands.

“What’s this, now?” Claire’s face lit up at the sight of Faith’s toothy grin, holding up the construction paper. Claire could see they were cut into the shape of little fish, and they were plastered with glitter, pompoms, google-eyes, and marker.

“Did you make these, Faith? Did you make these little fishies?” Faith hummed loudly and jumped up and down. “Oh, they’re marvelous, darling! You’re quite the little artist!”

Claire perused every single colorful fish, and she made a note to thank Mrs. Lickett. Arts and crafts were something Claire had never been into as a child herself, and something she didn’t have the time or the creative mind to think of. It was obvious now that Faith adored creating, and Claire wanted to smack herself upside the head for not thinking of it sooner. God bless that Mrs. Lickett.

“No wonder we watched Nemo tonight, hm? Are these Nemo’s little friends, then?” Claire held up a bright pink paper fish and swam it around in the air, much to Faith’s delight. Faith joined in the little game, and though Claire knew that bedtime was rapidly approaching — for both of them — she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

After a few minutes, Claire led Faith into the kitchen so they could use magnets to put the fish on the fridge. Claire let her arrange them to her heart’s content, only leading her into the bathroom when she was satisfied.

Teeth brushed, pajamas donned, Faith tucked in, and nightlight on, Claire finally allowed herself to fully feel the exhaustion of her day. The adrenaline of seeing Faith had kept her wide awake on the drive home, and then actually being with her had chased away any thoughts of sleepiness. Now, she barely had the energy to prepare a shower, and she very well almost crashed into bed, fully dressed. It was sheer willpower that finally got her back into the bathroom. This reminded her that tomorrow was bath night for Faith, and she sent up a brief prayer that she would cooperate for Mrs. Lickett. She’d considered waiting until she got home and just taking her into the shower with her, but that would have interrupted the movie, and God forbid that should happen. But if she’d waited until the movie was over, it would have been too late, and the routine would be disrupted. No, it had to be Mrs. Lickett.

Washed and dressed for bed, Claire was wide awake, despite how weariness was etched into every muscle and bone in her body. She could not stop thinking about all of the silly little things that could go wrong while she was occupied at the hospital, of all the possible triggers for a meltdown that she would not be able to stop. No matter how well today had gone, no matter how wonderful Mrs. Lickett was, she’d never stop worrying. Maybe not never, but it would certainly be a long time. At some point in her fevered, internal ramblings, Claire teetered into oblivion, grateful for whatever sleep she was lucky enough to get before her alarm screamed again.

——

Claire drove home the following Friday, her knuckles white on the steering wheel and her vision blurred with tears. She’d been so damn grateful to clock out at four o’clock, and she’d barely made it out of the locker room without falling apart in front of Joe.

She lost a patient for the first time today. Paul Castano, forty-seven, much too young for the heart attack that killed him.

Claire had been beside herself, and Joe had soothed her, told her there was nothing she could have done.

“Go home and hug your daughter, Lady Jane,” he’d said. “Enjoy the horses. You need it as much as she does right now.”

And, Christ, did she.

Claire hugged Faith just a little too hard for the slightest bit too long when she got home after nearly bursting into tears at Faith’s joy to see her. Faith did not tolerate being held as such for very long, and she squirmed out of Claire’s grasp. Today, not only was Faith happy to see her mother, she was excited: she knew it was horse therapy day.

Seeing Faith so happy to see her and so excited to get to the stables was a welcome distraction from the anguish Claire was feeling. The drive over to the stables was calming as well, though Claire was now paranoid about the change in appointment times. Toni hadn’t called her at all, so she had no reason to believe that the switch hadn’t gone over well. She supposed after the day she’d had, she’d be prone to overthinking just about anything.

Upon arrival, she calmed considerably at seeing Faith’s exuberance, and even laughed when she began tugging on her hand, willing them to get inside faster.

Leave it to you to get me laughing on the worst of days, Faith.

The door to the visitor’s center opened, and Faith began humming loudly.

“There they are, the Beauchamp girls!” Toni greeted warmly.

“Hello, Toni. Say hello to Miss Toni, Faith.”

“Hello, Faith!” Toni called as Faith waved timidly.

Erica was standing by the counter, and she crouched down to greet Faith. “Hello, Princess. I’m so happy to see you again!”

Faith smiled shyly and hid half of her little body behind her mother’s legs.

“I’m gonna take you guys out to the stable today, get her started with the hellos and leading her to the riding hall.” Erica stood up to address Claire. “Jamie will join us when we get there.”

“Alright,” Claire said, exhaling deeply. “Shall we?”

——

Joe had been right. Claire needed that hour at the stables just as much as Faith had. As they were driving home, Claire felt something resembling peace settle in her heart. Faith was humming happily, kicking her legs, waving the newest Minion Happy Meal toy in the air.

She did very well again today. She was gentle with Pippi, she didn’t protest about the helmet, she was attentive to both Erica and Jamie. Claire kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go terribly wrong, but it just never did. Not at the stables, at least.

They arrived home, Faith zipping up the stairs to the front door as usual. Claire was grateful to get to watch an entire movie with Faith tonight, to decompress, to hold her little girl and be soothed by her oblivious, youthful happiness. When they passed through the front door, Claire dumped the contents of her arms onto the couch as usual and started toward the kitchen, but Faith did not follow.

“Faithie, come on! Don’t you want your chicken?”

Faith didn’t seem to hear her. She lifted Claire’s purse and looked underneath, and then let out a groan.

“What’s the matter darling?”

Faith made a beeline for the front door, and Claire sprinted to lock it, having forgotten to do so upon arriving home.

“No, no, no,” she quickly blocked Faith’s exit. “What are you doing, Faith? What’s wrong?”

Faith began whining and pawing at Claire, hitting her thighs.

“Do not hit, Faith.” Claire crouched down and grabbed her wrists. “What is wrong? Hm? Hungry? Tired? Pain?” She did the signs that she’d learned from the videos Mrs. Lickett had sent. “Can you sign for Mummy? What’s wrong?”

Of course, she couldn’t. It was much too soon for Faith to be carrying out conversation; she’d only just learned any signs at all.

Faith suddenly began wailing.

“Faith, baby, it’s alright, I’m here…” She wrapped her in her arms, but it only lasted for a moment. Faith clawed her way out and began pounding on the door.

What could possibly be wrong? What was she looking for on the couch…?

Then it dawned on her.

Horsie.

She hadn’t checked to see if Faith was holding the stuffed horse before they left the stables.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright!” She stroked her head and tried cupping her cheeks. “Can you look at my eyes, Faith? Faith…it’s alright. We’ll get Horsie back next week. He’ll be alright.”

She was inconsolable.

Claire exhaled heavily and stood up to retrieve the Happy Meal from the coffee table.

“Aren’t you hungry, darling? McDonald’s! Your favorite!” She held the box in front of Faith’s eyes. “Come on, lovie, let’s go eat.”

She reached to grab her hand, but Faith shrieked and pulled back, apparently having no intention of eating a thing until Horsie was returned. She’d be quite hungry by next Friday.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…” Claire threw the Happy Meal back on the coffee table and ran a hand through her hair.

She needs to eat dinner. I have to make this stop. There has to be something…

“Do you want to watch a movie, lovie? How about Frozen?”

Claire scrambled to get the DVD in, holding her breath until the movie started, praying that she’d be drawn to the screen and sit down to watch quietly, and then she could gradually coax her to eat on the couch.

But she just continued wailing.

Claire knew full well once a meltdown was in motion it had to run its course. And this particular meltdown would not run its course until the missing object in question was found.

But she can’t not eat, she can’t not sleep…

Claire didn’t realize she started crying until it was too late.

It was just too much. She’d held a man’s hand today while he died before her eyes, and then hugged his inconsolable wife while she came to terms with having to tell her children their father wasn’t coming home. And then Claire had come home and sought comfort in her own child, and she’d gotten a bit, but of course it didn’t last long.

She knew by the time she drove back, the stable would be closed, so she could not go and pick it up. She tried calling the stable, but no one answered. Apparently, everyone had already gone home.

Faith gave a particularly loud shriek, and Claire felt all her nerves go shot one by one. Hands trembling she scrolled through her phone for something, anything.

Jamie.

Toni had provided her the stable number, her own number, and Jamie’s number in case the main phone was busy. He’d mentioned that he and the other therapists took turns staying after closing to see to the horses. She threw up a quick prayer before clicking on his contact to start a phone call. Even if he wasn’t the one that had stayed today, perhaps he could tell her who had and give her their number?

As the line rang, she felt surges of panic go through her. Was this even appropriate? To be contacting his personal cell number for something that wasn’t really an emergency?

Faith started pounding on the front door again, screaming her head off all the while.

Claire suddenly didn’t given a fuck about what was appropriate.

——

Jamie was sitting at his kitchen table, enjoying the stir fry he’d made for himself and his usual glass of whisky. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he made a note to check his texts later, but then it kept buzzing. Somebody was calling him.

Curious, he pulled out his phone and saw a number he didn’t recognize.

“Bloody telemarketers,” was his first thought, but the area code was local. Eyes narrowing in curiosity, he swiped up to accept the call, setting his fork down.

"Hallo? Who's this?"

"Uh...hi, Jamie. It's Claire. Claire Beauchamp. From the stables.”

Jamie felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him.

"Oh...Oh! Uh, hello, Claire. What's uh...what's going on?"

Someone on the other end shrieked, and his stomach lurched.

"Is that Faith? Is she alright?"

"Yes, she's perfectly fine. Physically, at least. She left her horse at the stable, the stuffed one. She's absolutely beside herself and she won't stop crying. Nothing is calming her down, none of her other toys, not putting on a movie or music, not even food.”

Jamie felt his chest tighten. Her voice sounded strained, and she seemed completely frazzled. The second he’d laid eyes on her at the stable today he could tell that something was wrong. It wasn’t the usual sadness he saw in her eyes, it was something different, something visceral. Whatever was happening now was certainly not helping.

“She won't eat, and I know she won't sleep either. I called you because no one was picking up at the stable and I was hoping you'd still be there but just not near the phone?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. Just in the stable. Canna hear the phone," he answered without thinking. What the damned hell are ye doing, lad?

"Oh, thank Christ. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"No," he said quickly. "I'll, uh, I'll bring it to ye."

"What...?"

"Wouldna do fer ye to be drivin' wi' Faith as she is now." Though Jamie was making things up to cover the fact that he was already home, he wasn't entirely wrong. Even if he was at the stable, he wouldn't feel comfortable with Claire driving twenty minutes with a screaming bairn. "Wouldna be safe.”

"But...it's...are you sure...? You wouldn't get in trouble?"

"Nah. I'm sure other therapists have done the same fer some o' their kids."

Keep digging, James.

"But you haven't done it before?"

"No."

"But others have?"

"Aye." Liar.

"Alright...as long as you're sure it's not inappropriate."

"Only inappropriate if we make it so, Sassenach."

Why the bloody fuck did I say that?

Claire cleared her throat. “Right. So…you’ve got my address from Faith’s file?”

“Aye.”

“So...twenty minutes? Half hour?"

"Aye. Just about."

Idiot. Bloody feckin’ idiot.

"Alright. See you soon."

"Bye, then."

Jamie hung up, threw his phone on the table and slapped an exasperated hand over his face.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What is wrong wi’ ye?”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #outlander au #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #faith fraser #jamie fraser #joe abernathy

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

Angel of the Ink Machine, chapter 8: Letting it Die

Thank you to everyone who has read through this entire story. I’ve wanted to write it for months, and the fact that it was as popular as it was makes me really happy. Thanks as well to my writing partner for helping me to create it.

---

In the end, it was the leaking ink that did it. It was about a month after Allison was fired that the four performing toons noticed people getting sick from it.

It had been after a regular day that Allison received the call from Susie. The next morning, she put on her favourite purple eye shadow, red lipstick and white dress, knowing that she might not have another chance to dress up for years.

Allison walked into a police station whose front was desk staffed by one overworked police woman who had been arguing on the phone while shuffling papers.

Allison spoke to her as soon as she had half her attention. “I’m here to turn myself and my ex-partner in for multiple murders. I have proof.”

The woman’s eyes went wide. “Come with me,” she said, and soon she was in a room, sitting across from a police officer.

“This young woman just confessed to multiple murders.”

“Alright. Tell me everything.”

“It’s going to sound insane,” Allison warned. “But okay. I helped create the living cartoon characters that are currently making headlines. I am one of them, and I used to be a regular woman. In order to turn a person into a cartoon, you have to kill them. Together, we killed Susie Campbell and Wally Franks, the latter of which is currently on a missing persons list. I can prove that I and my partner, Joey Drew, did in fact kill these people by leading you to the human remains. I also know that he killed a few more people on his own, but I don’t know how many. Will you come with me and let me show you the bodies?”

The police officer looked stunned. “Yes. In fact, I order that you do. Keep in mind that lying to a police officer is a crime and that anything you do can be used against you in court.”

“I plan on being completely compliant.”

Less than an hour later, the doors of Joey Drew Studios opened to the angel of the ink machine, followed by five police officers. She had no key to the very basement, but she knew the other way down. She instructed the police officers to gather onto the top of the ink machine, and pulled on chains until she found the one that made it descend, just as Joey had done on the night that they had met.

The ink machine touched down on the basement floor, and Allison ran to turn on the lights.

How impressive this place had looked months ago. And how crowded it looked now. It looked as though Joey hadn’t come down to this room since he’d last used it to sacrifice. Perhaps he never intended on returning to it. There was the cage of research subjects- once rodents, now mutilated toons- stuffed into cages. There was the ground, littered with once-used pentagrams. There was the poor, whimpering Boris caged in the corner, now along with a Charley with an empty eye socket and two missing limbs. Every wooden surface was stained grey with ink, every metal surface slick and greasy with it. And there were the coffins, marked with the names “Susie,” “Allison,” “Wally,” and “Henry.” Allison allowed herself to hope that that meant Henry was the only one Joey had transformed on his own.

Allison’s excitement at handing herself and Joey in turned to somber regret. How had she ever romanticized this?

“The bodies are over here,” Allison said, guiding them over.

“Four?” a police officer asked. The others busied themselves opening the coffins to see that the coffins were in fact full.

“That I know of. I encouraged Susie to let us kill her, and I slit Wally’s throat. I also agreed to being killed myself. Every one of the creatures in the cages represents an animal we tested on. Anything else you find isn’t my doing.”

The police officers milled about, prodding at the ex-rodents, taking notes on the ink machine, and searching for more useful information. Two of them poured out a trough of ink that had been set up to catch leaks. The thick ink oozed away to reveal human bones, including four skulls. Allison clasped a hand over her mouth. If she were still flesh, she would have went cold. She’d given Joey a measly four hours, and he’d killed five people in that time- that was, unless one of those skeletons belonged to Norman. But she didn’t want to think of that anymore.

Allison excused herself to the only other room in the very basement: Joey’s private sanctuary. She just needed to be alone until the police needed her for questioning or were ready to take her in. While inside, she took out her knife and sawed through her horns. If Joey ever came down there again, he’d find her horns and attached halo left on his desk.

Soon, Allison found herself laying on the bed in her holding cell. She could handle women’s prison- at least, she hoped the stregnth and durability she had as ink creature would help protect her from the other inmates. On the bright side, she wouldn’t age at all during her time in prison. She’d told the cops that they absolutely could not allow Joey to turn off the ink machine, because that would kill all of the ink creatures, including herself. They also knew that if she were destroyed, they would have to pick her up from the ink machine. As a result, the police had secured the basement levels. She still worried- there were so many ways to turn the ink machine off from the upstairs, and while Joey had surely skipped town to avoid the police, he could easily order a GENT worker to do it.

A few nights later, the cops told Allison that Joey had been arrested, and Allison could finally breathe easy.

The court battle went on for months as lawyers argued about which of their victims should be called “murdered,” and which warranted a lesser charge of “assault with grievous bodily harm,” since the victims were still alive in a sense. There was argument as well over how many of the murders Allison had been a part of, and which she deserved to be charged as an accomplice of for not coming forward about earlier.

At some point during this time, Allison received a phone call.

“Hey, Allison. This is Henry. Susie told me everything. Thanks for putting an end to this. I’m the one that Joey left in control of the studio, and I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to do my best to look after this situation. Thomas is working on a portable ink machine as we speak, and if that works, we’ll turn off the old one and rent a storage unit to keep the new one in. That way no one else will get infected. For now, I’m just having everyone wear face masks and keep away from the most dangerous areas. I’ll probably be able to bail you out, assuming that you can apply for bail- and that it isn’t too much. If our lives depend on the ink machine, they depend on the company making enough money for us to maintain it, and Joey left us in some pretty serious debt. So... yeah, that’s where we are. Just thought you should know.”

Allison was glad she was on the phone so that she didn’t have to force a smile. “Thanks, Henry.”

“I was thinking about maybe selling the old ink machine to research. I’ll make sure it’s a reputable one, of course. I imagine you have a lot of free time right now- maybe you should write down anything that you would want them to know.”

“That’s a great idea! I will.”

As soon as Allison had the chance, she was writing. She’d never written before, but having something new and meaningful to do with her time was exciting.

My name is Allison Pendle. I am not a good person. I remember being ten years old and first overhearing my parents worry over the person I would become. I terrified them by becoming addicted to crack at sixteen and wasted their money on rehab. I did more things to get ahead as a Broadway actress than I want to name. I am a thief, a liar, and a compulsive thrill-seeker. And yes, I facilitated the use of this machine with the full knowledge that it required human death.

I have always been good at rationalizing things to myself. The fact that I of all people know that this machine is evil to its core should tell you that it is. Please keep this in mind as you experiment.

There was so much to tell. Everything about how the machine worked, what it was like to be an ink creature, and of course, whether she could safely sell out any of the people she’d met on the black market. It was the next adventure, and she was ready for it.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #the angel and the ink machine AU #allison pendle #Henry Stein #joey drew #my fanfiction

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thingsifeelicantsayhere · 3 years

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About Kink at Pride

One: Thanks SO Much to the person who decided to @ me about 6 different times after I already mentioned how I can’t reply. Edit: Just read them! Thank you for linking me to the same article twice. I saw that one to, and at least 7 others! I closed out of all of them. Read on to see why!! And I call everyone hon, hon - sorry if I offended you!

Two: Kink at Pride thoughts, below the cut. TL;DR: Yes, I was wrong on certain things. Does that change my opinion? Nope! Still think Kink shouldn’t be at Pride.

Note: an entire history of gay Pride is listed below, starting with the Reminder marches. I started there because it felt like the logical place to start, given the organizers of Pride participating in those as well. It’s a LONG one guys, so strap in.

So, starting out: Gay Rights Timeline (it’s brief, because I don’t have an entire night of getting triggered and showing I can research things)

July 4, 1965: “Gay rights activists gathered outside Independence Hall in Philadelphia carrying picket signs and demanding legislation that would secure the rights of LGBT Americans. Referencing the self-evident truth mentioned in the Declaration of Independence that “all men are created equal,” the activists called for legislative changes that would improve the lives of American homosexuals. Activist Craig Rodwell conceived of the event following an April 17, 1965 picket at the White House led by Frank Kameny and members of the New York City and Washington, D.C. chapters of the Mattachine Society, Philadelphia’s Janus Society and the New York chapter of the Daughters of Bilitus. The groups operated under the collective name East Coast Homophile Organizations (ECHO). It was called the “Annual Reminder” to remind the American people that a substantial number of American citizens were denied the rights of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

June 28, 1969: A police raid on Stonewall [a mafia run gay bar] occurs, leading to the Stonewall Riots. Marsha P. Johnson, a “transexual drag queen” and known sex worker, frequented the Stonewall Bar, being the first drag queen to go to what had previously been a bar only for gay men. Police raided the bar to check for unlicensed liquor sales, but also to arrest those who were in violation of the state’s “gender-appropriate clothing statute” (which meant that any female-presenting people in the bar who passed as female had their genitals checked by female police officers, and female-presenting people who did not pass were arrested). Fed up with harassment from the police, the community around the bar became agitated. After a policeman hit Stormé DeLarverie, a “dyke” lesbian on the head while pushing her into his police van, the crowd grew violent. Police barricaded themselves inside the Stonewall Inn for safety, which was soon set on fire. It is still debated whether police or the rioters began a fire in the building, but most sources claim the rioters began the fire. Marsha P. Johnson became well known as the one who “Threw the first brick at Stonewall” (though she herself has stated that she came late to the riots).

That night, while returning home, Craig Rodwell passed Stonewall, and alerted the press in order for there to be news coverage of the historic event. Rodwell was a well known activist at the time, one of the organizers of ECHO, sitting in on protests, opening the first Gay Bookstore (dedicated to Oscar Wilde), and of course, helping to organize the first Gay Pride Parade in the bookstore.

Five Months after the Riots: Among those who proposed the Gay Pride parades were Craig Rodwell and his partner Fred Sargeant (who later tried to claim transgender people and POC did nothing in the riots), Ellen Broidy (former member of the Gay Liberation Front, Lavender Menace, and Radicalesbians), and Linda Rhodes (genuinely having trouble finding information on her; I just know she was friends with Ellen and Craig). Together, they made a proposal for an annual march on the last Saturday in June where there were “no dress or age regulations.” Their proposal was given at the Eastern Regional Conference of Homophile Organizations (ERCHO) in Philadelphia.

After the proposal was made, Brenda Howard (a life-long bisexual and openly sex-positive activist, as well as anti-war feminist “radical” by some sources) helped plan it. Making use of the Oscar Wilde mailing list, word got out. It was Howard’s idea to turn this march into a week-long celebration. Also on this committee was L. Craig Schoonmaker, who had been arrested the previous year for talking to another male. He coined the term “Pride” for the slogan of the parade. (Note: L. Craig Schoonmaker was an INCREDIBLY problematic person, and discussing just how stupid that story is really deserves its own post – needless to say, I’m a little sad he’s the one who coined “Gay Pride” as the slogan.) This was the one and only contribution he had to the parade.

June 28, 1970: The first Parade, organized by Chicago Gay Liberation. The first parade was originally called the Christopher Street Liberation Day March, named after the street where Stonewall Inn was. These were different from the Annual Reminder marches, where those in the gay community “walk in an even line, wear professional clothing, and do not display affection for a partner of the same gender” (Waters, 1). “The march was 51 blocks long from west of Sixth Avenue at Waverly Place, in Greenwich Village, all the way to Sheep’s Meadow in Central Park, where activists held a “Gay-in.” Borrowing a technique that had been popularized by the Civil Rights Movement, the “Gay-in” was both a protest and a celebration.”

From there, there were more parades of course. But as promised, here’s all my research on Kink at Pride.

….

I would provide sources. I would share what I tried to look at for multiple hours tonight. But the fact of the matter is, this is the part where I got triggered, nearly threw up, and had to exit most tabs.

What I managed to find out: Yes, Kink has been a thing at Pride for a long time. I do not know the extent of this, but I do know at the very least (due to some image sourcing) that the 1980s saw men in leather that covered most of their skin (it was not inredibly revealing). I was incorrect about this fact, so shit on me I guess. Now, what all I saw was just… men in leather sometimes. I did NOT in fact see people on leashes, naked with only a bandana around their legs to hide genitals, or muzzles (as I have seen in modern-day prides). I saw people who took pride in being leather gays without doing strict sexual acts – costumes, not whipping their partners in broad daylight or walking them like dogs, which is sexually gratifying for the sub (which I have also seen at modern day prides).

Note: I have not personally been to a Pride parade, but I have seen pictures and videos of modern day prides showing these acts. For obvious reasons, I am not including them here.

The reason for the previous inclusion of kink in pride seems to have grown from the fact that, for many LGBT+ people, they are both kinky and LGBT+ in some way. I saw numerous sources talking about how being Kinky is just part of being LGBT, and how pride in being LGBT+ also means pride in being Kinky.

I deadass could not look at anymore sources because I am so physically nauseated by it, and reading about this (as I mentioned numerous times to every single person who DMed me tonight telling me to “Read fucking sources”) triggers me. But can’t stop getting screamed at unless I “do my research” right?? Joy of all joys.

So what do I think about getting rid of kink at Pride?

I still think we should move to phase it out.

Reasoning:

1. The original people who thought up Pride were not the best. They thought up Pride through transphobic, sexist, radial feminist, insert-other-dated-views here. And I don’t blame them – it was the 1970s. But I feel that, by the 2020s, the idea of “Pride” should have changed. And it has! I saw that Ellen B. discussed how Pride had changed “Far” from what was originally intended in the interview with her (raising the entirely valid concerns that I agree with that Capitalism has too strong of a foothold in current pride). I just think that it should change more, to fit with what is currently needed.

2. This leads to my next point: what is currently needed? Back in the 1970s, Gay Pride was about having pride in, well, sex. Pride was based so strongly in having sex with the same-sex, being deviant, being different. But that isn’t what Gay Pride is anymore, or at least, Gay Pride includes much more than just sex now. Pride is meant to be an inclusive place for all LGBT+ communities – including fucking asexuals. Like me. See, when researching all of this, I had a hell of a time, because I’m “damaged goods” so to speak. I’ve been hurt through sexual stuff in the past, and yes, that has probably influenced my asexuality. Am I against sex? No! I enjoy it! With my partner. And that’s basically it. Am I okay seeing sex stuff? Yes! Most of the time. On a consentual basis. Would I probably be okay seeing it at Pride? IDK Maybe? But it would spark bad memories, to the point that I would rather avoid Pride, avoid going to the Big Event™ that everyone always says You Have To Go To that would make me feel validated… than go to it. Because of Kink Gear. And I have had other people contact me tonight saying the same thing – they can’t go to Pride because you Kinksters. They can’t because of triggers, or the fact that it’s uncomfortable, or the fact that “well, my parents aren’t homophobic, but it’s too adult.”

3. “Okay, so make a PG Space – we were here first.” “It’s not inclusive if Kink isn’t there.” “Children won’t even understand the kink in the first place.” Here’s my problem with all of this. Kink already has spaces, but PG spaces don’t exist in this much openness. See, I’ve always heard of kinky spaces. Expos, dungeons, etc. I’ve always heard of safe-spaces for kinky gays. Including Pride. But I rarely hear of PG Spaces for Gay People. I rarely hear of PG spaces at all. It’s hard to exist in this world without people making it about sex, so much so that I find myself often getting stuck in Children’s Fandoms, Children’s Spaces, because they’re the only spaces that haven’t been touched by sex stuff. So we need PG Spaces for Gay People - and yes, we COULD make a PG thing for gay people. I think that’s a great idea. I think a parade sounds nice. A PG Parade for Gay People!!! It sounds perfect, like a perfect solution ----- except now I’m not being Inclusive Enough.

We’ve wrapped around to my big problem with Kink at Pride. It always boils down to not being inclusive of Gay People. But the issue is… By keeping Kink at Pride, we aren’t being inclusive of a lot more people.

Banning Kink at Pride: We have gays, lesbians, trans folks, queer folks, people who still aren’t sure, allies, asexuals, aromantics, children, and yes, kinky people who are not wearing fetish gear. You can still come to pride and have pride in your sexuality. You have now excluded anyone who cannot stand to not wear leather/chains/leashes in a sexual manner for a few hours.

Keeping Kink at Pride: We have Kinky Gays, Kinky Lesbians, Kinky Trans Folks, Queer Trans Folks, People who aren’t sure but Are Kinky, Kinky Allies, a handful of Asexuals/Aros, please god don’t bring children, and kinky peope in fetish gear. You have now excluded anyone who is uncomfortable with sex, triggered by sex, or minors.

I assure you, the amount of people who are exluded keeping Pride Kinky is more than if you could just not be sexual for a few hours. Literally. I’m not saying Kink isn’t valid – fuck, dude, I’m kinky. But there is a reason sex isn’t meant to be public. Consent is important, and I’m shocked that people who insist they know about kinks and BDSM don’t understand that.

Pride has changed. In a lot of ways, not for the better, but in some ways, yes, for the better. It’s bigger, with more people, and more inclusiveness. But your idea of making a “PG Pride over there away from ours” --- well, where do you think we should? How can we do it without getting screamed at for not being inclusive? When can we do it without people screaming at us for “taking up too much time with being gay”? We already have a full month and a whole parade – and clearly everyone should be okay with the kinky shit that goes on.

My suggestion is this: Have Pride be PG, and have the Kinky Pride things isolated to Private Kink Party things that aren’t publicied on television because we don’t need people to know more about our sex lives – the majority of gay people just want to exist now. Those in 1970 needed to be loud, proud, and yes, openly kinky – but we don’t need that now. With keeping sex stuff private, you can still celebrate your Kinky Pride with all those who are capable of celebrating that Pride, while those who can’t, don’t need to be subjected to it. Because the fact of the matter is, Pride Parades are subjected to the eyes of the world – the most public thing you can have right now as a gay person. Subjecting people to nonconsentual kink is not the way to make people approve of sex work or kinky pride. It makes them rage against it. And I would rather be able to work for sex positivity through conversation and hard work, rather than alienating anyone who speaks against it (and those who speak for it).

Some of the sources I used (not all - again, no kink sources here, because I closed all of them. I couldn’t handle it.)

http://www.phillygaypride.org/annual-reminders-50th-anniversary/

https://www.nbcnews.com/feature/nbc-out/lgbtq-history-month-road-america-s-first-gay-pride-march-n917096

https://www.history.com/topics/gay-rights/the-stonewall-riots

https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/when-was-first-gay-pride-parade-origin

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/first-pride-marches-photos-1-180972379/

https://greenwichvillage.nyc/blog/2019/06/13/remembering-craig-rodwell/

https://phaylen.medium.com/stonewall-vet-fred-sargeant-attempts-to-erase-black-trans-activists-from-history-2e82ac59e96f

https://addressesproject.com/memory/ellen-broidy

https://www.them.us/story/brenda-howard

https://talbertario.medium.com/pride-and-prejudice-the-craig-schoonmaker-story-122c8a4c1339

https://www.history.com/news/how-activists-plotted-the-first-gay-pride-parades

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marsha_P._Johnson

One last thought, after the sources, because I work in Analogy the best:

Imagine this amazing bakery. This bakery sells a lot of cakes: chocolate cakes, strawberry ones, blueberry ones. This bakery gets national press coverage. Now, from day one, this bakery has used gluten in every single cake. It’s a time honored tradition! And every single Cake Eater goes to this bakery. It becomes a rite of passage, to the point that some people even say “You aren’t really a cake eater if you haven’t gone to this bakery.”

But as the bakery gets more and more popular, people start saying “Hey. We need some gluten free cakes too. Can you please keep the gluten away from our cakes?”

“NO!!! If you want gluten free, go somewhere else!”

“But everyone else only has gluten cakes. Even when they say they’re gluten free, they still bake other gluten cakes. Please, we know how to make the gluten free cakes taste just the same as gluten cakes – we’re only getting rid of the one thing. It’ll be taste almost exactly the same, and you can make those other cakes, so long as they don’t touch our cake. You can still enjoy your cakes. We just ask that we can enjoy ours.”

“NO! Go make your own then!”

“But… This is the bakery with the most famous cakes. We could always make our own, but the world will never know about it, because YOU’RE the biggest bakery in the world. And of those few who have tried, they’ve been yelled at for not using gluten because they aren’t inclusive. We wanted to be able to enjoy cake with everyone else – we just need our cake to be a little different.”

“If I make YOU Gluten Free cakes, that means the Gluten won’t be included!”

“That’s the point – gluten is bad for us. If we have gluten near us, it will actively hurt us.”

“No. This is a gluten bakery only. We refuse to change.”

And so, those who were going to enjoy the cakes there – who wanted to enjoy the cakes there – couldn’t. And even those who would try to make their own gluten-free cakes were overshadowed by the behemoth that was the gluten bakery.

That is how this entire night has felt.

Night, y’all.

#LGBT+#Discourse #Kink at Pride #I do not think Kink should be at Pride #And harassing me all night in DMs and Replies did not help your stance #Triggering me with links all night did not help your stance #All you did was piss me off more #And solidify the fact that I don't think I would even get to enjoy pride if people like you are there #Thank you for reminding me more reasons why the gay community is incredibly toxic

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writingforyourpleasure · 4 years

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Sharing Is Caring

Warning : A lot of fluff ahead NSFW / smut but like fluffy

« Gee are you home ? » You shouted in your lobby getting off your shoes .

The dark haired men peeked his head at the end of your hallway glancing at you without saying any words , like a shy child, you laughed. Once your boots off your feet you walked over to the living room, where you guessed Gerard was sitting since he was still watching you as you walked over. As you entered the room you were greeted by the sight of Mikey and Ray slumped on your couch facing you, while Gerard and Frank were in two armchairs with their backs just in front of you.

« Ho hey guys, What’s up ? »

You weren’t surprised to see them here since it was Saturday night and they usually hang out in your loft the weekend when you were off to work, and sometimes stayed over . It was already 3am30 and judging from all the empty beer bottles and pizzas box on the coffee table between the two duos they’ll probably all were gonna stay over for a sleepover . But you were used to it from now . Plus they were always fun to be around since you became friends with them pretty soon after you guys first meet.

You kissed them hello, starting by Ray and Mikey and finishing with Frank and getting up going in the kitchen . A bottle of beer in your hand you went back to the living room where you sat on the carpet , listening to what Frank explained to Ray while as Mikey did the same as you. You suddenly heard a whisper on your left trying to catch your attention.

« Why am i the only one not allowed to have a kiss on the cheek ? » pouted Gerard.

You rolled your eyes , taking one of the last slices of pizza on the coffee table.

« Because You already get to see me everyday Way. »

As if he agreed he returned his attention on the discussion soon after that. You and Gerard known each other during a party where neither of the two of you really knew someone. Both of you stayed all night next to the alcohol table, so you decided at some point to talk to the guy, the two of you talked for a while it was nice. You both got along really well and as the party flowed you approached the subject that you were trying to move out from your parents house and already made some visits, then Gerard’s face brightened and told you he was too. The night moved fast as you changed topics along it and around five in the am during a very drunken state of mind you both made this crazy plan to visit apartments together and split the month rent. After that the owner of the house kicked you out, and Gerard accompanied you to your parents house on walk. You , then, asked if he wanted to crash at your place , being already six am and being still slightly drunk even if the walk helped. He accepted and you both got into your 1 place bed , both of you just in your t-shirts and underwear.

After that night you and Gerard saw each other pretty often and soon he became one of your closest friends. You didn’t talk about the drunken idea to move in together before six months after that night. You found an apartment within a month and moved in together in a old red bricks lot on the third floor. That was a little over one year ago .

You got up joining Frank who went in the kitchen at the research of more beer bottle for all of you. You saw him looking lost in the middle of your kitchen.

« Here. Take one , I’ll take the other. » You said grinning at him, pointing at the two beer pack of six behind the bin. He gently smiled and nodded in agreement giving you one of the two and taking the other one under his left arm and followed you back to the living room where Gerard was the first to grab a bottle from his pack. You sat yours on your right, near the armrest of the couch on Mikey’s side. The night went along nicely, Frank, Mikey and Gerard were discussing music while you and Ray were at one of the two windows of your living room smocking while talking about the little birthday party he was having at your place since he still lived at his parents house . Gerard and you told him immediately that he could make it at your place when he started talking about his birthday. You weren’t the kind to often go to parties, but you knew it would only be a small thing and you trusted Ray more than any of the guys.

Later, around five in the morning, you all agreed to go to bed being all pretty smashed . Since you only got two bedrooms on opposite sides of the apartment, your bedroom being close to the entrance and the kitchen, Gerard’s room was close to the office and the kitchen. One of the boys, when it wasn’t you or Gerard turn, had to crash on the couch, while two duos would be sleeping in the bedrooms. Tonight, was Frank’s turn to sleep on the couch, you end up sharing a bed with Gerard this time, while Mikey and Ray would share one.

« Your bed or mine ? » You said glancing at your roommate as the rest of your friends were gathering up in the kitchen and Frank already was asleep on your couch snoring a little bit.

« Huh does it bother you if we take mine this once ? It’s just, whenever one of us is not sleeping with them , I always told the guys to sleep in mine not to have them destroying your room so… » He said pursing his lips questioningly.

« No it’s completely fine ! And they can use my room whenever they need , it doesn’t bother me the slightest you know ? They’re my friends too after all. » You smiled.

You went to your room to grab a faded gray large T-shirt with the Tarot’s signs on it, plus a basic yellow panties and your toothbrush. You went to Gerard’s room to change, while he was explaining to Ray and Mikey that they were going to sleep in my room. You got out of the room, after brushing your teeth, heading to the living room and hugging your friends goodnight . Gerard got into his room to change, as Mikey and Ray went to theirs and after that you turned off the rooms lights. You kissed Frank’s forehead before adjusting his plaid and joining Gerard to his room.

Once the door of Gerard’s room closed the dark ate the room, you couldn’t see shit, and were seriously struggling to find the bed. You could hear Gerard’s chuckle and helped yourself by the sound of it, you made it alive to the bed . You were starting to discern forms into darkness of the room, like Gerard’s body frame which was facing you in the large bed.

You felt his breath on your lashes. Wash he really this close ?

« Hey ? » you whispered ,as if inhaling was forbidden, to your friend looking into oblivion .

« Ya … ? » Breathed out Gerard with a dry throat.

« Do you remember how small my teenage bed was ? »

He chuckled at the memory of it. « I sure do ! Every time we were laying on it , I wandered when one of us will fall off of it. » You both chuckled quietly trying not to make too much noises for the others.

« We did fall in the end, remember ? » he quickly added.

« How could I forget ? » you laughed smiling at the memory

« It’s freezing cold… » shivered Gerard. You knew he was right because you were in January and you and Gee never turned up the heater because it costed too much and you nearly arrived to pay rent every month so this luxury was clearly out of reach for both of you.

« Is it ? »You said with a mischievous smile on your lips before landing both of your freezing feet on Gerard’s legs.

He hissed at your attack squirming beneath your touch while you chuckled devilishly . You stopped yourself realizing something.

« You only are in your boxers ? » you breathed out thinking out loud. Your throat was dry.

« And you, in your panties , so ? » He brushed off amusement clear in his sooth voice never above a whisper since you started talking.

« Yeah but I always did ! You never slept without your Pj’s pants before , unless you didn’t bring them with you ! » You huffed, still not moving away your feet off his skin.

« Really ? … Never paid attention »

Suddenly, as you and Gee were confined in silence, you started to be more than aware of the situation. You both were kinda drunk, not much dressed and very close, chest almost touching. Something started playing with the hem of your shirt tugging slightly on it, so you started playing with the hem of his shirt too , not really knowing what to expect . Then your hand brushed slightly against his hipbone, skin meeting skin, his breath came to a stop. You got scared.

« I’m sorry I shouldn’t had-«

« It’s okay … » he reassured you , shifting closer to you, both of your chests colliding together and your nooses bumping against one another.

Your fingers started tracing little stars on his abdomen and you were furiously blushing, thankfully it was too dark for him to see. His long fingers slipped under your shirt to settled under your breast drawing the limitation of it. You moved one of your hands to his right nipple playing with it between your thumbs as his breathing grew heavier. He copied your movements and your breath hitched in you throat.

« Can I ? » You whispered ,tugging on his shirt, the odor of alcohol floating between the two of you . He slowly nod, giving you the green light you needed to. His shirt was thrown somewhere on the ground as he did the same with yours. Once both bare chest, you showed both of your arms around him sighting happily as you felt each other skin. Soon a pair of hands came up to your jaw stroking it sweetly , an awkward silence of hesitation hanged between the two of you , until his lips landed on yours and it felt right, your mind was peaceful and you couldn’t get enough of it . Then you slide your tongue inside his mouth tasting nicotine and cheap alcohol, not that you minded. You had to admit it, Gerard was a pretty good kisser. Once his tongue slides against yours, everything seemed to get more passionate and want was radiating from both of you, you straddle him , pressing both of your hands against his naked chest to maintain him against the mattress telling him not to move. You grind against hip a little unsure of your movements, his hands came to your hips accenting your action as both of you yelped at the friction. You were quite taken aback by the feeling that washed you over, feeling his bulge against your core , but you came back to your sense pretty quickly , giving him a chaste kiss , descending to his neck and starting to suck his pale skin giving a few tongue strokes against it. He grunted against your ear , sending shivers through your whole body. You moved to his right nipple biting it sweetly, you felt him tense beneath you , his grip on your hips much more tight . You started to grind on him once again much more confident now, your breath grew heavier, each seconds that was passing by, as did Gerard’s . You looked at his face , he had his eyes closed and his bottom lip between his teeth as his hips meet yours. His hands started to touch your chest caressing it gently , you grinded even more against him, his hands weren’t so gentle after that. His eyes flew open looking at you with dilated pupils and glassy eyes and an expression on his face that you hadn’t had the chance to ever see before. Gentle yet, full of want. You kissed him once again , wrapping him in your arms . You both continued to make out a little dizzy coz’ of the alcohol and the sensation of him just inhibiting all your senses. Gerard was now sitting with you still straddling him . Here you were making out at 5am30 with your best friend on his Stars Wars bedsheets with 3 of your friends sleeping not far from you. But you didn’t really needed a reminder of that , you just needed to remain silent. Hard to do when someone very hot is panting slightly against your right ear and licking slightly your neck. Your own breathing was becoming more pronounced and faster. His hands were all over the place. You kissed him once more biting into his lips and soon both of your tongues were moving in sync, his hands moved from your belly to your hair pulling it shyly, earning a groan out of you. You copied him pulling slightly at his hair , earning a yelp from his side. You broke the kiss to take a breath , and both of you just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds still loudly panting . Your right hand traveled from his dark locks, to his belly ,then resting calmly against his hip , to finally brush over his length above his underwear . His forehead felled against your right shoulder, hiding his expression of pleasure from you , he bite back a moan , panting even louder instead. You gave a few hesitant strokes before going for it entirely, sliding your hand under the cloth . You started your movements at a slow pace, his mouth landed on yours sharing a needy kiss as you pleased him . You slowly opened your eyes to admire his face , his eyes were closed , his mouth hanged open his cheeks were colored by a soft shade of pink . It was mesmerizing. suddenly his finger found their way to your core sliding under your panties . You yelped surprised by the cold finger sliding in ,at a slow pace matching yours, against your clit . His eyes opened and for the first time you saw his pupils glassy and blown with lust , surely matching yours . He rested his cheek against yours whispering to your ear.

“Jeez , Y/N , What are you doing to me ?”

Your moaned in response , concentering on your task. His breath was itching and tickling against your ear.

“ You’re , so hot Gee…You’re doing so w-well … I …. I -I want you to cum for me lo-love.” Your breathed just above a whisper , having difficulties to think clearly your mind racing with sinful thoughts.

Gerard moaned loudly catching himself a little too late to be quiet . Your movements were much faster now and his moan maked you moaned but quieter in response. Your panting , breathing and moans were like a song to your ears, you felt so intimate and connected with Gerard at this very moment. His digits were circling around your clit making you lean into his touch . He flashed you a cocky grin. You pleased him teasing him too ,by spreading his pre-cum all over his length and playing with his head moving at a very slow and torturous pace, at the same time your left hand find it way to his hair locking itself into his dark locks petting his hair gently before pulling it earning a low moan from him. You were now the one having a cocky grin on your lips as you pulled his head out of the side of your cheek admiring him for a few seconds before pulling his hair, yet again. His eyes looked really glassy now as if he was on the edge of crying from pleasure , his mouth forming a perfect “o”. It suited him, you thinked. Your strokes became sloppy and his were faster . You felt the orgasm building into your stomach , the heat of it was such a pleasant thing . You know it would be a strong one at the sensation of it in your lower half and the delicious buzzing running through your ears .

“G-Ge-Gee I….I’m clo-close” You whispered closing your eyes feeling it building up .

“No, No babe look at me . W-w-want to se-see you” He stuttered out .

You shut your eyes open , your lips parted as his fingers were pushing you over the edge , finally you came hard , still trying to be quiet but not sure it worked , Gerard’s name on your lips as he caught you with his lips . You strokes were faster and even more sloppier than before and Gerard came a few minutes after you biting your shoulder to mute his strong moan . You loved it and kinda hoped it would leave a mark on you . Love bites were your favorite thing even if you didn’t tell a living soul about it .

You both took several minutes to find your breath again and riding off your orgasm . You gently stroked his hair. His arms were still warped around you. He placed a lazy kiss against your neck, still not letting you have a proper look to his face. Before you knew it , he sunk down into his mattress bringing you along in his fall . You were now cuddling against his chest, you blushed furiously at this . You knew it was probably stupid given the situation, but it was somewhat almost as much intimate than what the two of you just did . Yet it wasn’t like You and Gee never cuddled up like this , but usually it was with more clothes between the two of you.

“Shit , it’s f’king cold in here …” Gerard’s voice seemed to wake you up from you thoughts , because as soon as he said it , you shivered, well it could have been because of him too but you could feel the cold air of the room dancing on your skin . Gerard showed you off his chest to get up , looking for your clothes . Somewhat the room seemed ten times colder without the feeling of his chest rising up and down against your ear. You were now just laying on the right side of his bed looking up at the celling and the dozens of neon stars glued to it . You heard him shuffling around the room looking for something much warmer than what you dressed yourselves in to sleep.

“Find it ! “ He said victoriously showing off two grey sweaters and one black jogging .

The mattress sunken once he was back in bed . You quickly dressed yourself up taking the grey sweater and the black jogging , leaving him the second sweater and only his boxer but he didn’t seemed to mind much. As he went to finally lay down again , a shy knock made itself know coming from Gee’s bedroom door. You and Gee shared a look of terror , praying for it not to be the guys telling them that they heard everything …. Mikey mostly .

“Guys I know you’re up , I heard you walking around the room earlier .”

It was Frank.

You gave a questioning look to Gerard .

“Huh.Yeah dude ? C’mon in?”

“Finally! “Frank opened the door loudly not caring all that much if he were to wake up Ray and Mikey and walked up to the bed before laying between the two of you without even asking . As always Frank . Nothing surprised you coming from him anymore, and you didn’t even meant it in a wrong way.

“What’s up Frank? “ You said playing the nonchalant card hoping he hadn’t heard anything from earlier.

“Well I just woke up to a freezing to death room , Here is what’s up Y/N!” He said afflicted. ”Sooo….. I was hoping to stay in here for the night if that’s okay with you? “ You gave a curious look to Gee nodding slightly not minding all that much.

“Yeah sure dude …” Said Gerard quietly smiling weakly at Frank then giving you a long stare while Frank was shuffling up in a curious position .

“Goodnight guys” You said sticking up to one side of Frank , giving a small smile to your best friend .

Frank was already falling asleep by now .

“Sleep tight Y/N…” Smiled Gerard before closing his eyes.

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding High Ch 20: When The Bough Breaks...

Chapter Summary: Fliss finds herself in an impossible position…and her decision tips Frank’s world upside down.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: I know I only updated a few days ago with Ch 19 but this one has been written for a wile and I finished yesterday so decided not to wait.

Don’t hate me…

Chapter Song: Shattered by Trading Yesterday

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

And this day’s ending is the proof of time, killing all the faith I know.

“Was that another one?” Frank asked as Fliss tossed her phone onto the coffee table with an angry snort.

She nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Frank sighed and looked at her “Honey…” “I know, I know…” she said, looking at him. “Look, I’ve made notes of every time I’ve had one so… its recorded. But again, it’s not like we can prove anything…they happen like twice a day and then nothing…hardly what they’ll call harassment.” Frank shifted slightly “This has been going on for 2 weeks now sweetheart.” “I’m well aware of that.” she snapped, before she shook her head “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get angry…not at you.” “Come here…” he said, opening his arms and she snuggled into him, leaning against his chest as his hand gently ran up and down her arm. “Maybe you should think about changing your number…and not putting the new one on the website.” “Yeah.” she conceded, “It’s not gonna help for work though…” “You can work round it.” he said, “Keep the business line and if you’re not there people will have to leave a message. Then, once you know your clients…you can give them your cell number.”

“Fucking ass hole is still making my life awkward.”

“Only if you let him.” Frank said gently “It’s a minor inconvenience to change your number but, if in the grand scheme of things all he has in his back pocket is sending you some dumbass birthday card and trying to piss you off with silent phone calls then…he’s just a pathetic fucking loser that’s trying to bully you into being scared.” “I’m not scared, just pissed off.” she shook her head “I know he’s a chicken shit, he wouldn’t dare come near me not when you’re on the scene…or my dad for that matter.” “Good, because if he did I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself.” Frank said softly.

“Maybe we should just pay someone to kill him.” Fliss said after a moment’s pause and Frank let out a snort “Bullet straight between the eyes.”

“Nah, too quick.” Frank sniffed, reaching for his beer “I’d dangle him over a tank of hungry sharks…lower him in inch by inch…”

“Or we could feed him to pigs, like in Hannibal.” Fliss mused.

“That’s also an option…no trace” he said, swallowing a mouthful of beer.

“You know they should teach this shit at schools” Fliss said, reaching for her own drink “How to get rid of bodies. I feel it is something everyone should be educated in.” “Maybe you should mention it to Bonnie.” he said as she took a sip of wine “Tell her you feel it is an educational rite of passage or some other inspiring shit like that…”

Fliss laughed, placing her wine glass down and shifting so that she was led on her front, half on-half off Frank, looking up at him as her chin rest on his chest.

“On a scale of 1 to 10 how much of a meltdown are we facing with Mary on tomorrow morning?”

“What would I do without you?” he grinned down at her.

“I have absolutely no idea.” she shrugged and he smiled and leaned down pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Did you speak to Evelyn before?” Fliss asked him and he nodded.

“She’s coming down this weekend.” Frank said, “She’s still on about Mary going to Boston for a weekend.” “You still not comfortable about her going?” Fliss asked.

Frank wrinkled his nose “I don’t know if I trust her fully yet.” “You’ll never know you can unless you give her a chance.” Fliss reasoned

“You think I should let her go?” Frank said, slightly surprised.

“That’s not my decision to make, Frank” Fliss shook her head.

“I’ll think about it.” he shrugged, non-committedly.

“Well, you should also ask Mary.” Fliss said “She might not even want to go.” “She will.” Frank said, “Evelyn has a piano.” Fliss laughed “Yeah, but she’s also bossy, remember?”

“Yeah, I had heard that.” Frank said, and Fliss chuckled again.

“Well, can you not think about it right now?” she said, taking the beer bottle out of his hand.

“What makes you think that?” she asked, sliding her hands up his chest, over the soft material of his top.

“Just a hunch…” he mumbled, as he reached up and gently gripped the back of her neck, pulling her head down to meet his.

****** “Hey Frank…”

Frank looked up and smiled at Alan as he walked into the work shop.

“Hey Alan, not seen you in a while, how you doing?” “Good…I’m good. I was just wondering if I could have a word in my office.”

“Sure.” Alan said, “No rush.”

“Relax, Frank…” Alan chuckled as Frank adjusted his jeans for what felt like the 30th time since sitting down.

“Can I take a bit of time to think it over?” he asked.

“Sure. Take a few days, let me know. I’d like to have whoever is taking over in a position to start the handover by the beginning of October if possible so…” “Thanks.” Frank nodded “I’ll give it some thought.” “Oh, and it also comes with a Ten thou a year raise…” Alan casually dropped in as Frank stood up “Plus a bonus each year of up to 20 percent, depending on how well you’ve done on your targets” “Just a minor detail you forgot to tell me.” Frank arched an eyebrow.

“Hey Sailor.” Fliss greeted him.

“Hey Cowgirl.” he smiled, leaning against the hood of his truck sipping a bottle of water “You got a sec.” “For you, always. What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing bad anyway…I just got offered a promotion.”

“Wow!” she said as he finished talking “Baby, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you!”

Frank felt himself blushing at her praise, and despite the fact he couldn’t even see her he rubbed at his neck slightly. “So, you think I should take it?” “Of course I do.” she said eagerly “But at the same time, if you don’t want to then…you don’t have to. This is a great position to be in honey, Alan’s clearly seen your potential.”

“Just not sure If I’m cut out to be management.” he said, biting his lip.

Frank smiles at her words and looked up and out over the Marina “You always know exactly what to say.” “Not really, I make most of it up as a go along.” she said and Frank laughed. “But, just think, with the extra money you can get a new car…” “There’s nothing wrong with my truck.” “Frank, it’s died on you 4 times in the last 2 weeks. Dad reckons his ride on lawnmower has more power under the hood than that thing”

“Ok, I’ll admit…she’s getting a little clunky…but she is into her twenties now….” Fliss snorted “You could get yourself a nice Audi…”

“Fuck off.” Frank said and she laughed

“I like Simon’s car…” “You like it so much you get one.”

“Would never fit Thor in the back.” she said and Frank had to concede she had a point “But now you’re freelancing…you don’t actually need a truck do you?” “No, but…it’s handy…” “Handy, baby it only has 3 seats…” “And a flatbed…” Frank pouted slihglty. “So get one with 5 seats.” she shrugged. “You can buy trucks with a full cab…”

“This is not a good enough reason to get me to take the promotion…”

“This mean you’re coming round to the idea of marrying me and having baby Franks and Flisses?” he teased She snorted “You’re such a dick…although that’s the only time you’ve ever mentioned that when you’re sober.” “So you’re saying that if I ask you when I’m not drunk you’d say yes?” he teased. “Goodbye Frank…” She teased in an airy voice, before she cut the call.

Chuckling to himself he slid the phone back into his pocket and headed back inside to grab his lunch from the fridge in the kitchen. As he did so he passed Alan who was heading out with a fresh cup of coffee.

Frank nodded at him as he walked off.

“Oh…” Alan said, “We’ll also need to pick your car.”

“My car…” Frank frowned.

*****

Fliss had reacted exactly how he had thought she would, laughing hysterically and then teasing him about how he had no alternative now than to get rid of the heap of shit he was ridiculously attached to. She’d then spent the evening looking at cars on her phone, showing him ridiculously pimped out vehicles in various vile colours, the final straw being a hot-rod red Mustang with gold rims and flames painted down the side. At that point he’d snatched the phone out of her hand, grabbed her hips and pulled her down under him on the couch and given her something else to think about for half an hour or so.

Nope, on the whole life seemed to be going well for the pair of them.

“You got a ring yet?” Jake asked, dropping down into a seat next to him.

Greg looked at him, nodding “I get that.”

“That’s gotta be the most grown up think you’ve ever said…” Jake looked at Frank who flipped him off but deep down he had to admit, it wasn’t wrong. He knew that both he and Fliss had come a long way from the people they had been just over 14 months ago when they had first met. Fliss had come alive, flourished even in herself, and he…well, he’d learnt that there was more to life than a meaningless cycle of one night stands and that flying by the seat of his pants wasn’t always the most productive thing to do. Both of them had been broken in their own way, had their own guards and walls around themselves which the other had managed to smash straight through. He stole another glance at Fliss and smiled, he knew there was no other woman for him, but in the same breath…what was the rush? They had a life time. And a ring and a piece of paper wasn’t going to change any of that.

“Man you grew up…” Simon said, and Frank rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’ll have you know I’ve brought up a kid since the age of 6 months…all this shit about me being a man child…It’s crap…”

“Whatever man…we all know you’re not a grown up until you have scatter cushions on your sofa…” Simon teased, referencing the previous week when he and Bonnie had come over for drinks and Fliss and Frank had had a jokey argument about the cushions on the sofa. Frank threw his head back in a huge bout of laugher, shaking his head.

“Fuck you!” he said, looking at him as Simon grinned.

“Anyway, man…speaking of weddings…” Greg turned to Jake “You’ve been engaged for what? like 3 years now…when you gonna set a date?”

“He has a point…” Simon looked at him.

“Well, you can all shut the fuck up because for your information we have.”

“Shut the front door!” Greg grinned

Jake nodded and took a large mouthful of his beer.

“So you gonna tell any of us or…” Jake glanced over at Lisa before he yelled her name and she looked over at him, the other women also looking up.

Fliss perched on Frank’s knee and he slid one hand round her waist the other dropped to her thigh.

“So, we have set a date for the wedding.” Lisa smiled to a huge shriek from Zara. Frank spotted Fliss looking at Bonnie, the two of them sharing a significant smirk and he squeezed her thigh.

“Stop being a bitch.” he said in a low voice.

“Rude…” she mumbled, grinning into her gin.

“6th April next year…” Jake grinned. “At Hardemans Secret Garden in Dover, Tampa.” “Well unless you invented a time machine, it ain’t gonna be this year is it?” Simon looked at him, before he gave a yell as Bonnie slapped him round the back of the head.

“Obviously you’re all invited.” Jake said, “Except for Simon.” “Hang on, if he isn’t coming does that mean I can’t?” Bonnie pouted.

“You can be my plus one.” Fliss nodded.

“Oi…” Frank said, nipping her thigh gently. She grinned at him, ruffling his hair slightly. He jerked his head out of her reach and looked at her over his aviators. She stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned.

“Guys this is great news…” Greg said, nodding “Best dig the suit out.” “You wear a suit to work every day.” Zara looked at him.

“Yeah, I’m in…” Greg smiled,

“Me too pal, I’m honoured.” Frank smiled, tipping his beer bottle in Jake’s direction.

“Does this mean we get to plan the Batchelor party?” Simon asked. Jake nodded with a grin and Simon leaned back “Oh this is gonna be beautiful….”

“Yeah you said that about me going to Boston…” “No, that’s not what I said.” Frank sighed, looking at her “I said over my dead body were you going to live with Evelyn….and did you?” “No…” Mary conceded “But you’re letting me go back for a weekend.”

“Yes, because you’re going for 2 nights and coming home” he said, and despite himself he turned his head to see Fliss sail Cap over the huge jump.

“See….” Fliss said, pulling the horse up to a stop “Easy…” “Whatever you say sweetheart.” he shook his head.

“Can I jump Monty soon?” Mary asked, and Fliss smiled.

“Yeah we can do a little cross pole…” “I give in…” Frank groaned, throwing his hands out to the side “The pair of you are nuts…”

“Says the guy who almost cried when he had to order a new car.” Fliss looked at him and Frank rolled his eyes “I mean who does that?” “Yeah Frank…” Mary said, swinging off the fence to the paddock, leaning back to look at him. “You get to swap a rust bucket for a shiny new Mitsubishi truck and you were like heartbroken.” “Hey, me and that truck have seen a lot of action-“

“I don’t wanna know…” Fliss started.

“Of which you’ve been part of…” he smirked her and she flushed a little, grinning. “I’m kinda attached to it.” “It’s a lump of metal.” Fliss looked at him.

“How dare you.” Frank scoffed, feigning offence.

“I can go with that.” Frank nodded as she turned and walked towards the gate, letting her out.

“Can I take him?” Mary asked, hopping down off the fence.

“Sure…” Fliss said, handing her the reins. Mary led the horse away to the barn as Fliss removed her hat and pulled out her bobble, shaking her long hair free before she tied it back up again.

“I really do like it that colour.” Frank mused after a second, watching her. She blushed a little, and he knew why. A week ago she’d come back from the salon, her usually bright auburn hair was a lot more demure, having had caramel and dark brown put through it. When Frank had complimented her on the change she’d gotten a little shy and said that she used to have it like that when she was younger, but upon splitting with John had decided she wanted a completely different look. Now she felt like she wanted to go back to who she was, not needing to put that distance between her and her past anymore. Her admission had once again, knocked him for 6, how simple little things like that were so huge for her. He was also beyond happy she felt like that too.

“Can we go to the shack for dinner?” Mary spoke up, looking at Frank “It is Saturday…”

“Oh, I dunno…” Frank sighed, “Not sure my heap of shit truck will get us there.” “No but Fliss’ jeep will.” Mary shrugged and Frank shook his head with a snort.

“You literally have an answer for everything.”

“Wonder where she gets that from…” Fliss looked at him and he nudged her gently with his elbow.

“So can we go or not?”

“Deal.” she nodded “Only Fliss said she was gonna help me sort my clothes out…some of them don’t fit anymore.”

“Yeah we do that tomorrow morning.” Fliss smiled, “Then we can look at ordering you some warm stuff for New York.” “oooh yeah, are we still getting matching sweaters when we get there?” “No.” Frank said, at the same time Fliss nodded.

“Yes.” “No, we’re not.” Frank looked at her.

“I hate you both.” he said sullenly, folding his arms.

“Not sure getting her any stuff for New York yet is wise.” he mused “If she carries on like she is it won’t fit her.”

“I know what you mean.” he said, his hands carding through her hair “You don’t really Seasons here.”

“Well you do…” Fliss said, “Hurricane and Summer.” Frank let out a laugh as she looked up at him. “You know you’re my hurricane.”

“What?” he looked at her

“Came into my life, blew it all upside down…” “Jesus you talk some shit!” he laughed, shaking his head as she grinned.

“You know there was actually a hurricane Frank back in 2010.” she said “So I’m not talking complete shit…” “Whatever Sweetheart…” he snorted, leaning back as her nails scratched against his skin. He gave a twitch and grabbed her wrist, and looked down at her as she flashed him a coy look. “Stop it.”

“What, this?” she moved and used her other hand, and Frank let out a hiss as he shifted and grabbed that one too.

“You know what that does to me…” he looked at her, his voice low.

“Yup.” she nodded, grinning.

With a jerk of his arms he pulled her forward so she fell onto him fully, drawing a giggle from her as her nose bumped against his.

“I fuckin’ love you.” he smiled at her, and she grinned, giving him a soft kiss.

“Yeah, you’ve told me once or twice…” she smirked, her lips locking onto his.

******

“Fliss?”

“Office…” she called back, and a second or so later Joanne popped her head into the room.

“Everything’s done.” she said, “I was gonna lock up…you’re not normally here this late.”

“Sadly, it needs doing…besides, last time we went I kicked his ass, again, he sulked for hours.” Fliss snorted “Maybe he stands more of a chance against Mary.”

“Won’t he let her win?” Joanne asked “I mean, she is only 8…”

“Have you met Frank?” Fliss looked at Jo. “He says that she needs reminding every now and then that she’s not a genius at everything…” Joanne let out a laugh “Fair enough. Ok, well I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, by Jo…”

Fliss set about getting to work, filing the various bills and disclaimers she��d had signed and started then sifting through the list of clients and payments, checking who owed what and typing out the bills for the month. Once they were printed and placed in envelopes, ready to be tacked to the stable doors in the morning she glanced at the clock and realised it was almost 8 pm. Frank and Mary should be home now.

It was a threat. A direct threat telling her he knew about Mary.

He ended up in jail himself because Fliss knew Frank well enough to understand that if that blind rage took hold, he wouldn’t stop.

******

“Hey, you’re late…” Frank looked up, immediately frowning as he saw Fliss’ face. “Honey…what…” “Where’s Mary?” she asked instantly.

“She nipped to Roberta’s” Frank said “I know it’s late but we saw her as we were headed out of the car and she wanted to collect something for Show and Tell tomorrow…why?”

“We need to talk.” Fliss said.

Frank stood up off the sofa and walked towards her, he reached for her and she took a step back.

“Ok, Fliss, you’re scaring me now…what…”

“I think…” Fliss looked down at her hands “I think that we need to stop seeing each other.” Frank blinked, not sure he had heard her right, but when he looked at her he saw a tear trickling down her face and she was avoiding his gaze. The world around him began to fade and a dull buzzing filled his head and rang around his ears as a horrible cold feeling washed over him.

“Lissy…” he swallowed, his words sticking in his throat “What’s brought this on? Did I do something? Are you not happy? I don’t understand…” “I just…it isn’t working for me…” she said, taking a deep breath and looking up at him. “You’re lying.” he said instantly, he could see it written all over her face “Fliss, what’s going on?” “Nothing, I’m sorry. I just…I need to leave, I need space.” she said “I’m so sorry Frank…” Frank took a deep breath, and watched as she turned to leave. After a second he hurried after her into the hallway, shaking his head.

“Please, Frank…don’t make this any harder than it is…” her voice was broken, and she shook her head. “I don’t understand what THIS is?” he looked at her, running a hand through his hair as he felt the stinging of tears in his own eyes “Last month we were talking about buying a house together and now you just wanna break it off, for no reason? Baby, just…whatever is going on, we can work through it, just talk to me.”

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, “Just…let me out…please…”

“Liss, please…” he said, his voice cracking. “Don’t do this…”

She took a deep breath and opened the door, the warm air from outside hit him in the face before the click of the latch hit his ears as the door shut behind her, leaving him stood alone in the hallway, stunned and utterly, utterly broken.

#riding high #frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

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ampmiscfiles · 3 years

Text

The Webs We Weave: Chapter 29

Start From The Beginning

Luke groaned as he opened his eyes. Looking around, he found Danny and Jessica laid out on the ground beside him. The room they were in was plain and vacant. It clearly wasn’t meant to house anyone.

“I feel like shit.” Jessica groaned, sitting up and holding her head. “Worse than any hangover I’ve ever had.”

“That’s impressive.” Danny mumbled into the floor.

“Shut up you ass.” she huffed, shoving him.

“As fun as it is to hear you two bicker, we got bigger problems.” Luke grunted, pushing himself up off the floor and walking to the door.

“Seems like a poor attempt to keep us hostage if they put us in here.” Danny frowned.

“All the better for us.” Luke said, pulling back his fist and slamming it into the door and flying back into the wall.

“Holy shit!” Jessica screamed, rushing to Luke’s side had his entire arm looked burnt. “What the hell was that?”

“Not as poor an attempt as I thought.” Danny winced as he looked over Luke’s arm.

“It’s a-”

“High powered electric field.” Norman’s voice cut off Luke’s reply. “It would be very foolish to keep three powerful individuals like you in such a simple room. Don’t worry though, you won’t be here long. I just have some things to take care of first.”

“You better hope your little field holds up Osborn.” Luke growled. “Cause it won’t be pretty if I get my hands on you.”

“You’ll find I’m not very concerned with what actually happens to any of you.“

They could hear the dismissal in his voice.

"I’m more concerned with the idiot ‘billionaire, playboy, philanthropist’ and the special little spider I’ve managed to catch. Enjoy your stay.”

The sound of the speaker crackled out as Jessica erupted into curses.

Danny felt around his ear, taking note for the first time that his communicator was missing. Unless Jessica or Luke had theirs, there was no way to reach Frank.

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

Felicia wiped her eyes as she continued down the tunnel. They had no idea where Peter and Tony had gone. They had no idea if continuing down the tunnels would even help them at all. No one knew where they all went anyway! What if they never found them? What if Norman already had them? What if whoever Norman was working for had his own plans for Peter? It wouldn’t be the first time someone would think they could experiment on him.

She wiped her eyes again.

She wanted her Peter.

If-no-when they got him back, he was going to be on house arrest until she deemed him safe enough to return to the outside.

It shouldn’t be to hard to keep him indoors. He’d have unpacking to do in his and Wade’s new apartment after all.

She sniffled.

“Hey,” Bucky said, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her into a hug. “We’re going to find him. I won’t just leave one of my idiot brothers behind.”

“One of your brothers?” Felicia asked, her face buried in his chest.

“Yeah.” Bucky chuckled. “Steve is idiot brother number one, Peter is idiot brother number two.”

Felicia giggled as she clutched his shirt tighter, enjoying the warmth of his arms around her.

“Usually Peter would have something snarky to say at this point.” she smiled.

“All the more reason to keep going. We’ve got to find him and take care of this Norman guy. We’ve all got lives to get back to that don’t involve a lunatic with a Halloween fetish.”

“Yeah. I’ve got to tell him how you held my dainty figure in your strong, masculine arms while I cried for him.” she snickered as Bucky choked.

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

Wade Wilson knew fury. He knew the dark desire revenge could be. He had given into that desire often enough to consider himself an expert.

Having Peter taken from him brought that dark desire front and center. He itched to pull the triggers of his guns, or swing the sharp blades of his katanas through someone’s flesh.

His thoughts were dark, and bloody. His ideas involved trails of blood and dismembered body parts. No, Peter wouldn’t like it, but he didn’t have to know either. Wade would never enact such things in front of his baby boy.

Still, if Wade was seething, murderous vengeance, he wasn’t sure what to describe the thing next to him as.

At this point, Wade had seen Matthew Murdock in various stages of emotions, but this was an entirely different beast.

For the first time ever, Wade realized the ‘Devil’ in Matt’s vigilante title might mean more than he thought.

A darkness seemed to roll off his shoulders. He was to silent to be natural.

Even the brat had noticed.

While he hadn’t been really interested in talking to either of them after the big reveal of Spider-Man’s identity, the kid was even quieter now.

“So, I can’t believe I’m the one asking this, but what’s our plan?” Wade said, breaking the tense silence.

Matt stopped completely, his face turned straight ahead.

“You two will get Peter and Stark. I will handle whoever’s there.”

“You wait a sec-”

Wade grunted as he was slammed into the wall, Matt’s arm buried in his throat.

“You listen to me Wilson, I won’t repeat myself. You two will get Peter and Stark and get them to safety. We have no idea what kind of shape we’re going to find them in. Considering our situation, I seriously doubt either of them would be any use to us. I need to know Peter is safe. I trust you to follow directions and get him out.

"Bu-” Wade choked as Matt pressed harder.

“My son was taken from me. You may be dating him Wilson, but he was my kid first. I made a promise to his aunt to get him out. I can die, Wade, you can’t. If anyone can make sure Peter gets out, it’s you. That’s always going to be your role. Peter is always going to be your job to protect. If you decide to ignore me and fight whoever we find, you better hope I die there. If I don’t, I’ll make it a personal goal to find a way to make sure you do. I’ll do what I have to, regardless of what it means for me.”

Matt growled as he released Wade and shoved him to the side before turning to Harley.

“The same thing goes for you. Get Stark out.”

“And if they’re fine?” Wade coughed, standing up fully. “You know Pete isn’t just gonna stand aside.”

“Then you better make sure he’s not alone.”

Even after being surrounded by Avengers, looking at Daredevil, Harley felt he could finally see what being a real hero really meant.

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

Tony winced as his eyes cracked open to bright lights. His head throbbed and he felt sore. Peeling his eyes open slowly, he took note of his state. He was in a propped up position, but strapped to a metal table. Across from him, in the same situation, was a still unconscious Peter.

“Peter? Peter! Wake up kid!”

“He’s not going to hear you, Stark. I was very careful about how much sedative I gave him over you. I wanted us to have a few moments together.”

Tony growled as Norman stepped up beside him.

“I have to say, while I was hoping to catch two birds with one stone, you weren’t the other bird. Still, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Who was crazy enough to let you out?” Tony glared.

“There was a time I would have risen to that bait, but I believe that out of the two of us, I’m not the one who has anything to worry about.” Norman smirked, moving over to Peter.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” Norman asked, running a finger down Peter’s cheek. “A marvel for sure.”

“Don’t touch him!”

“Has he ever really discussed himself with you?” Norman asked, moving away from Peter, ignoring Tony.

“He’s done research on himself, you know. Extensive research. He’s accessed my servers to an extent Harry doesn’t even know about.”

Tony frowned, wondering where this was going.

“You know, the spider’s venom he received was never meant for human experimentation…..at least not when he was bitten. My people had run multiple tests on them and had been recording the changes in their poison. It was a secret project, so there were no time constraints.

One of the very few projects I gave free reign to.

I needed it to be perfect before anyone could know about it….and they were making progress all the time.” Norman looked over at a large monitor detailing information on the spiders.

“What was the project supposed to be?” Tony asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Once properly developed, they would be harvested to create a new breed of super soldiers…ones that would put Steve Rogers to shame. It isn’t a coincidence that Peter’s abilities are greater than Captain America’s. That was always the point.

"You just said it was never meant for human experimentation!”

“I said the spider that bit Peter wasn’t meant for human experimentation. None of the spiders in that batch were even remotely ready to be harvested. Truthfully, the fact he’s even alive is incredible. The venom literally altered his DNA.” Norman paused, looking from the screens to Peter.

“He’s far to precious to be out unsupervised. You had no idea what you had with him.” Norman said, glaring at Tony. “He nearly died the time he saved your ass by protecting your precious Stark property!”

“How about when you attacked him!”

Norman laughed as Tony fumed, guilt over the entire event of Peter’s Homecoming night gnawing at him.

“If you ever thought Peter’s life was really in danger, you’re more of an idiot than I took you for. While I didn’t know who was under the mask, I would never have killed them. They were far more valuable alive than dead. That said, he wasn’t going to come in quietly, and his abilities made close combat difficult to achieve. Naturally, I had to up the ante to acquire him. Admittedly, I underestimated the intelligence under the mask. It wasn’t simply brute force that beat me. Peter’s mind works amazingly fast to try and analyze everything around him.”

Tony didn’t respond, he didn’t need to. He was fully aware of the brilliance of Peter’s brain. While he would never flat out say anything to Harley, if Peter had decided to return to him and SI, he would easily put him as the main inheritor to the company.

Harley was smart and could most likely run the business perfectly but , he could be rash and come off a bit abrasive. Peter on the other hand, was extremely intelligent with a calm and friendly personality. Out of the two, people would most likely be more willing to deal with Peter than Harley…..kind of like how people were more willing to deal with Pepper than him.

Still, none of that mattered if they didn’t get out of here.

“Oh yes, you know all about him though, don’t you?” Norman sneered, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

“You know all about his perfect grades from the moment he entered school till he left. You know all about his life before his uncle passed.”

“I know they haven’t had it easy-“

“All you know about him is what any idiot can look up. You know nothing about what the Parker’s have experienced emotionally. Peter and Harry have been friends since they were very young. I’ve watched Peter grow up. I was around when he lost his parents. I went with my wife and son to the funeral. His parents were brilliant scientists.”

Norman chuckled, looking at Peter.

“He definitely took after them.”

Taking a breath, Norman moved to a small table and picked up a glass cube.

“I had hoped spending time with Peter would have been good for Harry. Maybe get him on the right track. Unfortunately, Harry will never amount to anything.”

“He seems to be running Oscorp just fine .” Tony sneered. “Better than you.”

“I’ll give it to him on one thing.” Norman said, walking up to Tony. “He made a smart move hiring Peter for the pharmaceutical department.”

Tony glared as Norman stopped before him. A sly grin spread across the man’s face as he held up the glass cube.

“Anyway, what do you think?”

Tony looked into the cube, taking in the small spider suspended inside. There was nothing special in the way it looked, but he had a pretty good idea of its importance.

“I’m sure you know why I’m showing you this. It’s the very spider that bit Peter.” he twirled the glass.

“It was found on the floor after the field trip had ended. At the time, we all assumed the spider had just died being outside of it’s controlled environment.”

Norman chuckled at himself.

“I’m honestly ashamed of myself for taking so long to put the pieces together on where Spider-Man might have gotten his abilities. Of course, when I did, I tried to offer him a place as a partner. With his abilities, given by me by the way, we could have made a formidable team.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“It wasn’t to surprising.” Norman shrugged. “Spider-Man had chosen the path of the hero long before I got to him. It was just disappointing.”

“When did you figure out it was Peter under the mask?”

“Oh, I have you to thank for that.” Norman laughed.

“Think back, Tony Stark . Think back to the early days of a certain webslinger. Think back to a moment in time where you failed him by not trusting him over your own issues.”

Tony frowned, feeling like he should know where Norman was going, but missing something.

“Does the moniker of ‘Vulture’ ring any bells?”

Tony’s eyes widened.

“Oh yes. He was willing to keep Peter’s secret, until he was offered his freedom. It’s amazing what people will do for the chance to get what they want. For Toomes it was his family, for me, well, he’s right across from you.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re so much better?” Norman asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Have you not been pushing him to rejoin your little hero group? From what I’ve gathered, Spider-Man has never seemed to be interested in joining the Avengers. In fact, I’d say he went out of his way to avoid you.”

Tony’s jaw tightened.

“I guess my return worked more in your favor than you want to admit.” Norman smirked, moving back over to Peter.

“He should be waking up soon, then the real fun will begin.”

“What are you planning?”

“Well, I can’t let him out to wander the streets, now can I? No. So, he’ll have to be kept inside. Luckily, I’ve got some….. volunteers testing out some new features I plan to use in Peter’s room.”

“You’re going to keep him locked up like some prisoner? Yeah, I’m sure that will work out for you.”

“Well, it will only be temporary.” Norman shrugged. “Once he learns his place, he’ll be able to leave his room.”

Tony growled, pulling against his restraints.

“How cute, Stark. Do you really think you’ll be able to break those without your fancy suit?”

“You’re going to regret this Osborn!”

Norman just smirked, looking over at Peter as he started to stir.

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

Frank grunted in annoyance as he checked over his gun for, what felt like, the hundredth time.

He was growing restless, not to mention the increasing feeling something was wrong.

“Hell with this.” he said, standing up.

“This stealth shit ain’t working for me.”

Grabbing his bag, Frank left the rooftop and headed off where he had watched the members of the Defenders go.

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

“We gotta get out of here.” Jessica huffed, stalking around their prison cell.

“Well, until we figure out a way around that field, we arn’t going anywhere.” Danny sighed.

“It would be nice to have the nerd with us.” Luke mumbled.

“That little shit is definitely taking me out drinking once this is all over.” Jessica grit her teeth, kicking the wall to relieve frustration.

Danny watched as she stalked off toward the other side of the room, not bothering to look where her foot had made contact with the wall.

He looked however.

His eyes widened at the small dent and hairline crack in the wall.

Maybe they weren’t as trapped as they thought.

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

Peter groaned as he struggled to regain consciousness. His head hurt slightly, and his eyes felt heavy.

Making to move his hand to rub his eyes, Peter snapped to awareness as he felt the restraints work against him.

“Wha-Tony?” Peter croaked out, throat dry.

“Peter!”

“Isn’t that cute.” Norman sneered. “Tony Stark all concerned for Peter Parker’s well being.”

“I’m not the one that drugged him and strapped him down!”

Peter took the two men arguing as a chance to fully assess his whereabouts and his situation.

He and Tony were both restrained and at the mercy of a psycho.

‘ Great. ’

Peter internally huffed.

He needed to figure out a way out of the restraints, but he could still feel the drugs in his system. He wouldn’t be anywhere near as good in a fight right now as he would be normally.

Still, he had to chance it.

He couldn’t let Tony stay here.

Norman wasn’t after Tony, despite their long time rivalry. That made Tony expendable. Expendable people usually didn’t last in these situations and despite their history, Peter couldn’t let anything happen to the man.

Spider-Man didn’t abandon anyone.

Twisting his wrists, Peter tested the strength of the restraints and various angles and points. Infuriatingly though, they were solid at all points.

“Well now, Peter.” Norman smiled. “Let’s help you get a better look at things.”

Peter watched as Norman moved to the side of the table and pressed a button. The table gave a slight vibration as it tilted forward, putting him into an almost standing position.

“There we go. Now we can all properly see each other.”

Peter held back his glare, refusing to give anything away as to how he was handling things.

“I’m so glad to see you again, Peter.” Norman smiled, an unsettling scenarity in the action. “Our time together was so short last time.”

“You’re the one who left.” Peter replied.

“Well, I had a few things to take care of.” Norman shrugged. “But everything is how it should be now.”

Norman moved directly into Peter’s eyeline, his expression sent Peter’s Spider-Sense screaming.

Norman reached out a hand, grabbing Peter’s chin roughly.

“Now, Peter, how about we finish what we st-”

“Osborn!”

Peter froze.

He knew that voice.

He knew that voice so well.

The missing puzzle piece had finally fallen into place

Norman grinned before dropping his hand and pulling Peter’s mask back over his face.

“Can’t have just anyone knowing your little secret, now can we?” Norman chuckled before turning to the new arrival.

“I apologize for the lack of a proper delivery but ,” Norman chuckled. “I don’t believe we’ll have to wait much longer. As you can see, we have something he’ll be very anxious to have returned.”

“We better not.” the man threatened, before turning to both Peter and Tony.

Tony looked between the two men. It was obvious they were talking about Peter, but what business did either of them have trying to lure in Deadpool?

That was who they were after, right?

“I must say, Tony Stark was not who I was expecting to see when I came here.” the man chuckled before focusing his full attention on Peter.

“Hello again, Spider-Man.”

Peter looked at the man before him, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“How’s it going, Fisk?”

#TWWW #the webs we weave #Peter parker #wade wilson #matt murdock #avengers #felicia hardy #fanfiction

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