#vaniskley

C’mon folks!!! it’s for charity!!! Fic for charity!! who wouldn’t love this???

For every dollar you give, up to 20, you get 100 words. Here are the rules.

A Fiskley/Vanisk fanfic on Ao3

Tags: Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Threats of Rape/Non-Con,Non-Consensual Touching

Summary: Wilson Fisk wakes up on his tenth birthday two soulmarks instead of one. The first is a children's joke about a rabbit in a snowstorm. The other is not so innocent:

“Please,kill me, torture me, rape me, do whatever you want. But don’t take my Mark away.”

I’m back in this trash ship, folks!!!!!!!!!!! 

Little known fact about me: I’m a fucking sucker for soulmate aus. I love them so fucking much you have no idea. I’ve already published an angsty one for this pairing and there’s another one in the works.

holy shit I was rn looking through my files and I found an in the flesh au?????? i have no memory of this???? oh it’s literally three sentences. And then a poem about LMM comparing him to my ex-boss???????? why is that there.

the ghost fiskley fic!!! I actually published a chapter of that and then abandoned it, but there’s two more chapters already written

one that is titled “gun kink” and there’s only a few lines but I remember the planned plot for it and O Boy.

the cooking short fic which was a prompt that has been lost in my ask and which took me a fuckload of research

A VANESLEY FIC, WHERE FISK HAS DIED AND ALL THEY HAVE IS EACH OTHER. There’s only an outline for that

Anyway, I need motivation to finish any of that, so I’ll include all of the fic’s words if I get any of them published.

(on Ao3)

Just once, he tells himself as he accepts his boss’proposal. Vanessa has found out what they did, from time to time, when Fiskneeded to unwind, and she’s not upset. In fact, she wants to watch.

Wesley will do it. Not to please her, or toplease Fisk, no matter how he tries to justify it. He will do it because heknows this will be the last chance he will have to share Fisk’s bed. He can’tlet this become a regular thing, having Fisk’s in body but his soul sighing forVanessa, it will destroy him. He has some self-preservation instincts, afterall. But he will take this once, justonce, to say goodbye. He can allow himself that much.

.

It was a mistake.

Fisk is always so careful, so giving. Such agenerous lover. He made Wesley feel loved every time, and this one is nodifferent. How could he forget that? Fisk touches him like he’s the mostprecious thing in the world.

Wesley wonders what it would feel like ifFisk actually loved him more than as a friend. He looks at Vanessa, naked in acomfy chair next to the bed, rubbing herself lazily and looking at them withrapt interest. He respects Vanessa, even likes her. He thinks she’s good enoughfor Fisk, and that’s about the highest form of praise that Wesley is capableof. Nevertheless, he can’t help but feel a stab of jealousy at the thought thatshe’s the one Fisk loves, and Wesley is here merely as a temporaryentertainment.

It makes him ache. Wilson is on top of him,inside of him, but he’s not his to keep. It must show on his face, somehow,because suddenly Fisk is looking at him with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” He whispers, stopping histhrusts.

Wesley shakes his head and forces a smile,digging his heels on the other man’s back to encourage him to move again. Fiskbites his neck lightly and jerks him off in time with his thrusts, until Wesleyis coming.

In the short time it takes Fisk to come,Wesley quietly panics. Just once, he has promised himself, this is the lasttime he gets to have him. As soon as they’re done, Wesley will have to getdressed and go out the door, while Vanessa stays here with him. There’s a sobthreatening to escape him, and he can’t allow it, can’t lose his composure likethis, least of all in front of Fisk. So he kisses him.

It’s new. They don’t kiss much during theseencounters, and if they do, it’s always Fisk who initiates it. Wesley hasalways been afraid to take too much, to reveal too much. But now, who cares? Ifthis is their last time together, Wesley can allow himself this. So he kisses Fiskhungrily, startling a surprised but pleased sound out of the other man, andsending him over the edge.

He can’t stop. He told himself he would,after Fisk orgasmed, but he can’t stop kissing him. He hugs him close, notallowing him to pull out, and kisses him like the world is ending.

“James, stop.” Fisk commands gently againsthis lips.

Wesley does. He can’t ignore that. Hedoesn’t open his eyes, but he looses his grip on the other’s body, lets himslip out of him and fall on the bed, next to him.

Fisk cups his jaw, caressing his cheekbonewith his thumb, infinitely gentle. “What’s wrong?” 

Wesley chokes down the urge to coil himselflike a snake around Fisk’s body. He’s not his. He realizes he’s breathing toofast, and tries to relax. He nuzzles against Fisk’s hand and kisses his palm,but he still won’t open his eyes. He hears his employer sigh next to him, buthe knows he won’t push him. In a moment, Wesley will stand up, thank the couplefor a lovely evening, and ask if he can use the shower before leaving.

“I hope you stay with us tonight.” Vanessasays. It’s soft, but it has a certain authority. It’s more than a suggestion.

Her voice sounds closer than the chair.Before Wesley can answer, she’s cleaning his spunk from his body with a wetwipe.

“You two are a sight to behold.” Shecomments, a hint of teasing in her voice. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that again.”

Wesley opens his eyes. “No.” It bursts outof him, pained and tired.

Fisk’s thumb stills. Wesley is looking atVanessa, so he doesn’t see his face crumble in dismay.

“If that’s what you want…” The older managrees, reluctantly retrieving his hand. Wesley misses the touch instantly.

“You know what they say, three’s a crowd.”He tries to joke with a forced smile. It withers when he turns around and seesthe sadness in Fisk’s face. 

He can’t not reach out for him. He puts hishand on Fisk’s hip and rubs his skin in circles.  

“I think we can all agree that’s not true.”Vanessa states. “Scoot.” She lies down next to Wesley, and shamelessly spoonshim.

Wesley tenses minutely, but it’s nice. Helikes the way she smells, how warm she is against his back. And Fisk looks somuch happier now, looking at the two of them. Wesley almost feels like he’s apart of what they have.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do thisagain.” Vanessa starts, her breath moist against Wesley’s shoulder. “But may weask why?”

Wesley doesn’t want Fisk to know. It wouldmake him unhappy, to know that Wesley is pining after him. But he doesn’t wantto lie either, not with that amazing woman hugging him from behind and the loveof his life staring at him like… like he cares.

“I feel like I’m intruding.” Vanessa clicksher tongue at that, and he can almost hear her roll her eyes. “And I’m notcomfortable not being an equal partner in this arrangement.” He confesses. Hecan admit that much.

Fisk doesn’t miss a beat. “And if… you couldbe?”

Wesley tenses again, becomes a block of rockin a second. His hand stills and claws at Fisk’s skin.

“My husband loves you.” Vanessa points outlike it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m certain he loves us both.And I wouldn’t deny him the chance to be with you out of selfishness.”

“You’ve discussed this.” It’s not aquestion. He can’t take his eyes out of Fisk’s face, open and vulnerable.

“Please… think about it. Will you?” Fiskasks. “Don’t feel obligated. But it would mean… it would make me very happy. Ifyou’ll have me.” He cups Wesley’s jawagain.

Wesley takes Fisk’s hand and brings it tohis lips, kissing it reverently.

But can we discuss omegaverse Vaniskley please. PLEASE.

Fisk is an omega but most people think he’s a beta. People whose skull he’s crushed thought he was an alpha, because no beta (let alone no omega) should be this strong. I think this would get him a lot of trouble with other criminals, like they wouldn’t respect him because he’s an omega, and stuff like that.

Wesley is a beta. His biology allows him to be more level-headed. Has posed as alpha and as omega for the job several times (depending on whether he needed to intimidate or to be underestimated).

FINALLY WE HAVE ALPHA!VANESSA OBVIOUSLY. Masking as a beta sometimes, because there are some prejudices against lady alphas and she doesn’t like to stick out unless she has absolute control of the situation. 

In fact I really would like that in this verse, the most common were alpha and beta males and beta and omega females, so Vanessa and Wilson are kind of an exception and that’s another way they find comfort in each other.

So at the beginning we have Wesley pining the fuck over Fisk, but he doesn’t dare to make his intentions known, because he thinks that Fisk would be better with an alpha and he’s always going to put his employer’s needs over his own (bc let’s be honest Wesley’s feelings for Fisk are a lil bit unhealthy).

Fisk likes Wesley well enough but he has kinda low self-esteem and thinks that Wesley wouldn’t be interested in him in a million years so he tries not to think about the other man too much because there’s nothing to do, really. He repeats that to himself at least once a day. He’s coping. He is. Also, he wouldn’t ruin a perfect friendship/employee-employer relationship by trying to pursue him, because he’s terrified of losing him.

Enter Vanessa and Fisk is flabbergasted. He wants to kneel for her and follow her around and have her in his life forever. They both think the other one is a beta (bc that’s the usual thing) but during their first date they reveal to each other the truth and Vanessa was interested before, but now she’s truly invested in making this work (even though the date ends quite catastrophically, what with Anatoly barging in).

Wesley is happy that Fisk found her. He is, honestly, even if it hurts because now there isn’t the slightest possibility that Fisk could want him. Before, Wesley was the most important person in his life, and now he doesn’t even have that. Still, he thinks Vanessa is right for him, and respects her a lot for giving Fisk something he can’t.

Vanessa catches on everything those two idiots are thinking and face palms hard. When Wesley goes pick her up that day that Fisk is upset she says “You know, he loves you as well, and I don’t mind sharing” and Wesley, of course, tries to deny it, but Vanessa insists “He always speaks of you with such fondness in his voice. Plus, the three of us have been in the same room only in a couple of occasions, and I saw him looking at your ass at least six times.”

She knows it will be more difficult to convince Fisk so she drops “subtle” hints about how she had always dreamt of forming an alpha/beta/omega triad (she hadn’t, but she, too, wants to make Fisk happy, and is not opposed to take Wesley into their bed), comments on how good Wesley looks in his suit (Fisk blushes and she thinks it’s adorable), etc. and in the end she just straight up says “You are enough for me, but you’d rather have us both, wouldn’t you?” and Fisk agrees.

Then one day they invite Wesley for dinner and when they finish eating they tell him that they want him to stay, and there’s a fleeting look of confusion and sheer hope in his face that he quickly replaces with one of polite interest, but really, he’s not fooling anyone. Fisk kisses him tentatively and Wesley responds with the urgency of a man dying of thirst who has been offered water.

“Are you excited about tonight?” Wilson asked.

“Very.” She had never been in Wesley’s apartment, so she was excited to see what his apartment was like. Modern and Spartan, she imagined. Tasteful and high-end, but a bachelor pad nonetheless. 

Wilson sheepishly confided in Vanessa about his and Wesley’s relationship, and then, hemmed and hawed around the real question: polyamory, please? She didn’t tell them, but Vanessa had been expecting the question since the night Wilson told her “Wesley is more than my assistant. He’s my friend.” No one ever said “He’s my friend” like that, if they were really just friends.

Wesley stayed on the fringes of the relationship for a while. First, Vanessa thought he wasn’t completely comfortable with the arrangement. Had she taken Wilson away from him? Need they have a talk? Then she realized that was just Wesley. He was a people-pleaser, albeit highly selective of the people he pleased, and he considered himself an enhancement to their relationship, but not an equal member. But that was how he was most comfortable.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Wilson said with that tone of confessional dread. At one point, her  mind would dance with possibilities: was someone trying to kill them? Was he a fugitive? Did he kill JFK? Now, she was so used to his conflicts that she didn’t bother. “Wesley is cooking tonight.”

“And is he trying to poison us?” 

“He is…not very good at it.”

“Well, he can’t be all that bad. He would know, wouldn’t he?” Wesley’s remarkable palate extended not just to wine but to cuisine. He wasn’t a foodie like Wilson, but when he did eat gourmet, he appreciated what he was eating on an educated level. That didn’t necessarily mean he would make a good chef, of course, but she didn’t expect his cooking to be so bad as to crush Wilson’s soul.

“I never told him.” 

“Wilson--” She wondered when their relationship went from forbidden love in a crime drama to whatever childish sitcom mess this was

“Please.”

“I don’t want to get sick.”

“You won’t get sick,” he said, with an unspoken “probably” and “this means a lot to me.”

Of course Wesley had risotto before. Surely, he knew that it shouldn’t be crunchy. And that the wine was supposed to cook down. And the liquid shouldn’t overflow; it shouldn’t resemble a soup. It was so uncharacteristic that this man of so much talent and culture would feed his two lovers crunchy risotto soup in wine broth. 

The image of Wesley she had would play to his abilities. Risotto might be a little out of his league, but even college boys had one dish they could make if they were hosting a semi-adult dinner. Something easy but mature, simple but tasty. 

Vanessa suspected that Fisk’s “I never told him” meant “I gushed about his food so much that his ears turned red and he believed me.” Like an indulgent parent telling his child that their paste pie was delicious, smiling stiffly and choking it down. It was so out of character, Wesley’s little weakness, this lack of self-awareness in this one particular area of life, that Vanessa couldn’t help but smile throughout the whole meal.

“Delicious,” Vanessa said, sipping the wine. The wine was delicious. She expected no less. Wesley was a charming host, gracious and sweet. This, she expected as well. 

“You know that show Come Dine With Me? It’s big in the UK,” she said, to Wilson’s blank stare and Wesley’s polite but unknowing gaze. “Four people host a dinner party, and then the others rank them on a scale of one to ten.”

“Ah,” Wesley said, picking at his rice. “I wonder what rank I would receive.”

It was an unmistakable sideways question: Is the night to your liking? Did I do OK? Wesley was not a man to ask directly and expose his vulnerability, not even to those closest to him.

“I’d give you a nine. Everything you do is always perfect except–” She was going to bring up the cooking, but lightly, with tact and extreme understatement, but she stopped when she saw Wilson looking at her. “–except I don’t want to give you a big head about it. Wouldn’t hurt to keep you trying.”

Wesley’s eyes gave a rare twinkle and was that a blush? 

“Thank you,” he said, looking down. Yes, then, definitely a blush he was trying to hide.

“I’d give you a ten, Wesley.” Vanessa felt a surge of relief. Wilson’s score was all that mattered.

Wesley went to the kitchen to get dessert. Vanessa raised her eyebrow at Wilson. She began the night thinking, “We will need to talk about this eventually.” She changed her mind to “We will need to talk about this if it becomes a more common occurrence.” The wine was good, at least, but then, it always was with Wesley.

Wesley brought out an elaborate Italian dish. She wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be elaborate. His pronunciation was crisp and fluent, but Vanessa was trying to figure out how not to eat the last course.

“Well, uh, enjoy,” Wesley said, sliding into his chair.

Vanessa kept her gaze on Wesley. 

“You,” she said, moving around the table and, with a lot of grace and little shame, crawling into his lap, “are very adorable.” She pushed his hair back in thick tufts.  “I think we can skip dessert.” 

Wesley’s appetites were small, both for food and for sex. It was a coin toss which would triumph. The hair-tousling was an attempt to steer him in the right direction: Wesley would only abide a hair out of place pre-, post- or mid-coitus. If his hair got mussed, he would have sex.

“Well, I wouldn’t be a very good host if I didn’t accommodate my guests,” Wesley choked out.

“I might have to knock you down to an eight.”

“I can’t let that happen. I’m very competitive.” 

Vanessa smiled and threw her head back so that she could see Wilson upside down.

“Are you OK with this change of plans?”

Vanessa: Maybe I should be out with him.