#both of them has to be almost 400 lbs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saintmurd0ck · 2 years

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congrats rhi!!! well deserved 👏🏼💖

🗽 - matt and frank are on the brain. what if you tried going on a date with them?? and they're making each other jealous, which eventually leads to all three of you breaking the bed in matt's apartment 👀

nik baby, thank you so much for this ask. i am so sorry it took so long, BUT i needed it to be absolutely perfect, and i think ive done it. it was absolute perfection, a joy to work on, and clearly you know me so well because this is one of my favourite things to write EVER and i will die on this hill!!!! i love you and thank you for your incredible request <3

winner's streak | frank castle x f!reader x matt murdock

masterlist

summary: you've had a little thing for your neighbours for the longest time. what's the worst that can happen when you ask them both on a date and turn it into a little friendly competition?

warnings: matt & frank roommate au, voyeurism/public exhibition, couple blind jokes, fingering, oral m and f receiving, unprotected p in v, spanking, choking, etc bruh there's so many i cant

THIS IS A LONG ASS FIC (9K WORDS DONT KILL ME) BUT PLEASE ENJOY AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED

Your groan reverberates against the iron door, echoing into the empty space of the stairwell.

ROOFTOP CLOSED, the paper sign reads, FOR SCHEDULED MAINTENANCE.

It’s impossible for your eyes to roll any further back. Of all days this rooftop is closed, why does it have to be today?

The notice scrunches in your hand as you pull it free from the door, shoving it down into your bag. You’re already annoyed about making the trek up to the rooftop, but thankfully it’s a quick trip back downstairs, and you’re outside on the fire escape in no time. The balmy afternoon wind flushes hot against your face, thin metal railing digging into your forearms as you lean forward, but your chest falls gracefully with the deep exhale that carries with it any negativity.

You’re grateful for the quiet. Besides the occasional siren, you’re high enough that you can barely hear the commotion of the streets – a rarity in this city – and apart from your noisy neighbours to the left, it’s pretty tranquil here.

Keeping an ear out for anyone disturbing your peace, you scout the apartments to either side of you, listening to the ambient sounds and whatever the street below has to offer. Nothing today; nothing except for the brush of wind rustling the trees and dislodging those clumsily pinned flyers you hate. Good.

With no one home around you, and weather almost too perfect for tanning, your hand snakes up your spine to where the strings of your bikini top lay, tied in a careless knot that comes undone in one tug. The summer heat hits your bare chest with a ferocity that surprises you, but you close your eyes and tip your head back, allowing the sun’s warmth to wash over your face and cascade down your body.

But then, it shoots straight at you; a whistling arrow that lodges itself into the centre of your chest. It’s the sound of a breath catching; an inhale so sharp you might mistake it for a hiss. Your head whips to the side.

“Frank,” you seethe, hands flying up to where you’re exposed.

He croaks out your name as your eyes level into his, bewildered stare parting his mouth in an ‘o’. He doesn’t know where to look as you muster a fake smile, tilting your head to the side so saccharinely you feel him cave inwards.

Frank’s body is still square to yours as he looks up to the sky. “Nice uh… sunny day, right?”

You scoff, arms tightening around your chest. “Cut the shit, Frank. Were you spying on me?”

His nostrils flare as he grips his coffee mug, knuckles turning white to the point where you think it’s going to break.

“Well?” you deadpan, a muscle twitching in your jaw.

He sputters at your question, and then it dawns on you.

He’s lost for words.

Your lips curl into a smile. First of all, you’re not really mad per se, you just like seeing him squirm. Secondly, Frank fucking Castle, your utterly menacing, 6 foot, ‘women call me daddy and I benchpress 400 lbs’ neighbour is lost for words. He’s stumbling over every syllable, and it’s like you have him by the balls.

Then again, maybe you just did.

You’ve seen the way he looks at you, not-so-slick with the little half-glances he shoots your way, or how his lips purse when he sees you in the hallway, the vein in his neck popping as an existing string of unholy thoughts undeniably course through his head. He’s always rushing to help you with something, whether it’s to carry your groceries, or to repair anything broken in your apartment.

You never complain, of course. With the way he treats you like a queen, and gets away looking like that? Yeah, you can’t fault his behaviour.

And that was just Frank’s side of things. His polar opposite, puppy-eyed roommate Matt has it just as bad for you, but Matt… oh, Matt… he makes you throb in ways you don’t understand. You’re the kind of girl who will never let a man tell you what to do, but Matt? He makes you want to get on your knees, submit yourself to him, devote yourself whole.

Matt’s not a grand gesture kind of guy as much as Frank is; he’s more of a smooth talker, knowing exactly when and how to lay on the charm. In fact, it’s not just that; he intrigues you. You’re observant – more than you give yourself credit for – and you notice the unexplainable, the somewhat impossible. It’s the bruised knuckles that so often leave his hands stained crimson, the cane that’s nowhere to be seen, the hushed phone calls and (to your displeasure), kiss-bitten lips.

You know a body as cut as his doesn’t come from walking to the office every day.

If you go out on your fire escape at just the right time, and tip your head in just the right direction, you can hear them talking about you. You’ve never admitted it out loud, but your heart flutters with the way Frank describes you to Matt, in what you’re wearing that day, or when he says those mundane things like, ‘she bought the same toothpaste as us!’

Alright, fine. You’ll admit it.

You think about them. A lot.

And in more ways than one.

You’ve indulged in their words, in their actions, in the little things they do that makes your skin hot and your back arch. It’s always variations of the same forbidden fantasy that creep into your mind, images that become more visceral as your fingers slip beyond the thin material of your soaked panties.

And in this fantasy, there's both of them, working you, stuffing you… until you can’t handle anymore, until you cry out both their names as you fall apart.

The worst bit? With time, your desire for them — or, whatever the hell you want to call it — has only grown stronger. It used to be that you’d run into them in the corridor, exchange a few ordinary greetings, maybe flash a pearly smile, and leave as they melt into man-sized puddles. Now if you run into each other, you all leave flustered, fumbling for the locks on your paint-chipped doors, desperately trying to conceal whatever indulgent thoughts you all harbour in your minds.

“You okay?” Frank’s gruff voice snaps you back down to earth.

You shake your head as you snap awake, your doe-eyes meeting his. “Hmm?”

He blushes, fingers straining against his coffee mug. “You just started starin’ off in the distance…”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile as your chest rises with a rapid breath, doing your best to ignore the second pulse that’s appeared in between your legs.

You really had to daydream at the right time, huh?

“Look,” he coughs, diverting his gaze, again, “M’sorry for uh… interruptin’ your–”

The graphic image of his body in yours while Matt’s underneath clouds your vision, and it turns your knees to jelly. “I-it’s fine.”

You spin on your heels, intent on dropping one of your arms to reach for the side door, but you conceive an idea.

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah?”

You turn to face him. “Let’s go out tonight. You know that wine bar between 10th and 11th?”

He musses a hand through his hair, eyebrows raising as he nods. “Really?”

“What,” you pout, “you don’t wanna?”

A wry smile creeps across your face as he straightens his spine, the intensity of your stare a little too much for him as his eyes flick away, throat bobbing as he shifts in his stance, almost uncomfortably.

Oh.

You stifle a gasp, zoning in on the faint outline of him, straining against his jeans.

Pupils blown and lips pursed, he catches you staring, watching intently as your tongue snakes out to wet your lips. The vein in his neck is as prominent as ever as his eyes wander over your body, at your bikini bottoms that leave almost nothing to the imagination, at your half-naked self standing there in his presence.

An idea crosses your mind. An insanely, obscene, insane idea, but oh, you’re devious. Frank squeezes his coffee mug tighter, eyes pulsating as the corners of your mouth upturn into a cheeky grin…

And your hands drop from your chest.

All you hear is the soft murmur of a holy shit, the ceramic mug shattering apart in his hands, and the sound of your laugh echoing in the wind, carrying itself across the rooftops.

“I’ll see you tonight at 7, Frank.”

Matt catches you in the hallway later that day as you’re running errands, heartbeat thundering in your ears as he walks himself into your shoulder. He murmurs a quick ‘sorry’, straightening his suit jacket, preparing to continue his walk ahead.

“It’s me, Matt!” you call out, biting your lips he turns, his composure cracking with an infectious chuckle and a smile that crinkles his eyes.

He motions to his cane, shrugging his shoulders. “Whoops.”

Rolling your eyes, you push off your heels, inching closer to him, his voice smooth in your ears. “How was your day?”

You focus on a small piece of white lint sitting awkwardly on Matt’s lapel as he shifts his weight onto one foot, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate whether or not to flick it off.

“Actually,” you start, heat singeing the back of your neck as Frank pops into your mind, “you know what? It wasn’t that bad. How was yours?”

Matt chuckles half-heartedly, nodding. “That’s uh, that’s great to hear. Mine was… well, we received a hundred rhubarb pies as payment today. S’for a client we helped a while back.”

He leans his head in towards your giggle, hand flying up to loosen his tie. “Alright, I’m exaggerating,” – he tips his head to the side – “I’m told there were… four, at best, but Foggy’s acting like we have that many.”

A moment of silence passes between you, nothing but a gust of warm wind filling the negative space. Your breath picks up as your mind races. Say something. Anything.

A look of uncertainty flashes across Matt’s face as he purses his lips, hand coming up to brush against his stubble. “Look, I’ve– I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but–”

“For a while?” you interject, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, a while,” – he rounds his shoulders, both hands gripping his cane – “d’ya wanna get a drink somewhere?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Matthew?”

He laughs, cheeks reddening at your question. “Only if that’s fine with you.”

“Hang on a second, how long exactly have you been thinking about this?”

Flustered, Matt pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, dimples showing as he tries to hide his sheepish smile. “A while.”

“Stop me when I get close.”

He grins from ear-to-ear.

“One month?” you ask.

“No.”

You feign surprise. “Three months?”

“Nope.”

Matt laughs as you gasp, loudly. Too loudly. “A year.”

“Longer than that, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The nickname pools in your thighs, heating the tips of your ears, forcing you to bite back a moan.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Matt asks, nudging your foot with his cane.

What about Frank?

The memory of the obvious tent in Frank’s jeans tugs on the knot building behind your stomach.

“I– well, I have the apartment to myself tonight, so I could cook. For you,” Matt says, voice lined with anticipation.

“Huh,” you look up, swallowing a laugh. “Frank isn’t home tonight?”

Matt scrunches his face. “Uh… no. He said he had something on. I figured I might as well take advantage of the quiet.”

In an instant, a thought blossoms in your mind. It’s devious, it is so goddamn devious, but oh…

So are you.

You step forwards, breath coming out a little shaky as the heat from his body reflects onto yours. Reaching a hand up to his lapel, you brush off the lint you were eyeing earlier, indulging in the earnest grunt that falls from Matt’s lips.

“7 PM,” you whisper in his ear. “Meet me at the wine bar between 10th and 11th.”

He presses your hand against his collarbone, holding it steady as he tilts his head downwards. You’re shuddering at his touch, at the warmth and tingles it shoots through your veins, at the unexpected coarseness of his hands.

“It’s a date,” he confirms, letting go of your hand, the dimples in his grin remaining as he unlocks the door to his apartment.

The wine bar is intimate; only the sounds of hushed whispers and the clinking of glasses keeping you company. You tap your fingers against the lacquered wooden table, sucking in your cheeks as you look at the time. 7.15 PM. You’re a little annoyed, not just at the fact that they’re late, but at the straps of your sundress, thin and finicky things sliding off your shoulders with even the tiniest of movements. A sigh escapes your lips, condensation blooming across the wineglass in front of your face. Maybe they figured you’d double booked them, asked them to the same venue and on the same date without saying much more. So much for your devious little plan, huh?

You pick at your nails, wine crisp on your tastebuds, each subsequent sip making you dizzy, but slowly taking the edge off. Who cares if they don’t show up? You need a night out anyway.

As if on cue, the door opens, catching on the little silver doorbell, and Frank steps inside, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take him in. He’s somehow even more ruggedly handsome tonight, sharp jawline perfectly illuminated by the warm lighting.

He apologises to you profusely, pulling you in for a tight hug, the contact from the muscles flexing under his thin shirt heating your skin. He motions to the bartender for a glass of whatever you’re having, setting the flowers down beside you.

He rests his forearms on the table, dark eyes peering into yours. “Will you excuse my tardiness, pretty girl?”

Oh, my fuck. What the hell is it with you and nicknames?

‘Pretty girl’ jolts you upright with a throb, and it takes every single ounce of strength you possess not to just uproot him by the collar and have him right then and there. Unfortunately, your reaction is poorly masked, and you’re forced to watch as Frank’s knowing smile grows, stretching larger as the bartender brings him his drink.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his glass to yours, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, eyes moving lazily up and down your torso.

Frank leans back in the booth as he takes a sip, his shirt riding up to expose the smallest sliver of skin. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the reason for,” – he waves his hands around – “all this?”

You swallow what’s left of your wine, pressing your lips together. What were you supposed to say, that you were sick of the sexual tension and all you wanted was to have fun with Frank and his equally sexy roommate?

You say something else instead. “I like being spontaneous, Frank.”

He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “S’that so?”

You let out a sharp laugh. “I’m sick of doing the same thing all the time, and I need a little change in scenery.”

Frank shuffles towards you, muscles rippling under his long-sleeved shirt. “And you think I can do that for ‘ya?”

A half-smirk tugs on the corners of your lips as your fingers start to dance to where his hands are resting on the table…

But you jerk your hand back, ears pricking up at the sound of the door swinging open and slamming against the wooden frame, followed by a loud ‘sorry’ offered to whoever’s tending the bar.

Your stomach turns as the bartender guides Matt to your table at your signal.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Still think this is a good idea?

You’re not sure where to look as Frank’s sour expression shoots daggers straight at you, moving over hesitantly to make room for Matt in the booth.

Matt’s cold shoulder towards Frank is way too obvious as he sits down, setting his neatly folded cane on the table.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he swallows, “I had something I had to… take care of. But I came here as soon as I could.”

You glance down, flinching at the scabs across his knuckles, at the deep purple bruise on his cheek marring his features. There it is again, that thing about him you can’t quite figure out.

“Yeah, okay, the fuck is this?” Frank turns to you, quizzical look bordering on anger.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was a date,” – Matt chimes in, wagging his finger at you – “between the two of us”.

“She asked me here, Red,” Frank whips his head around, shoulders tensing.

Matt scoffs, throwing his head back. “You? She asked you.”

Frank grits his teeth, fists clenching tightly together. “Shut the hell up. At least I had the decency to get the lady flowers.”

Matt laughs scornfully. “Oh yeah Castle, that’s so original of you.”

“We needa take this outside, Red?”

The clink of three whiskey glasses being set down on your table is loud enough to collapse their argument.

The server clears their throat. “Excuse me. Courtesy of that man over there,” — they pause, pointing — “if you keep it down.”

You thank the server, flashing an apologetic smile at the man in the corner, and pull a glass towards you, tipping it straight into your mouth. Frank does the same, waving at the bar for three more, while Matt sips his furtively, licking his lips before he swallows.

“I can explain,” you start, grateful for the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your veins.

Your face grows hot as Matt and Frank sit back in the booth, training their attention on you. With your heart thundering in your chest, the alcohol rushes to your head, hitting you with that little bit of confidence you need.

You lean forwards on the table, cocking your head to the side. “Let’s not sugarcoat this, alright?”

Frank shoots a sideways glance at Matt.

“You two think you’re so slick with your looks, and comments and… sink fixing,” you say, fingers curling into fists, “but the truth is, you don’t hide it well. At all.”

Matt presses his lips together as he slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose, while Frank takes a shallow breath.

Your forearms are now completely on the wood as you inch closer. “If you want me, you can just say so.”

The space between the three of you suddenly goes dead quiet; so quiet it’s as if time has fallen away, leaving you in your own little bubble.

“It’s lucky,” you pause, “that I have an affinity for you both. And I thought maybe… just maybe, we could have a little fun together.” You turn your head, making sure Frank catches the mischievous glint in your eyes.

You’re so far forwards now that your head is in between theirs, and you bring your hands up to their cheeks, pushing them closer to you. With their heads almost touching, and your lips one breath away from their ears, you feel the shudder running through their spines reverberate into your body. “Maybe we can make it a little interesting, hmm? Only if you’re up for it,” you wink.

Matt’s smirk peaks your nipples, spurring you to lower your voice, words dripping like honey. “Let’s just say the person who makes me cum the most tonight can take me on a real date.”

To his credit, Matt keeps his cool, merely interlacing his hands together on the table, sucking his cheeks in. Frank curses under his breath, gaze narrowing as he studies you, contemplating your proposition.

Matt is the first to speak, his voice dipping an octave. “Let’s go.”

Frank jerks his head in Matt’s direction, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Matt’s tone is insistent now. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Fuck, Red,” Frank whispers, hand coming up to stroke his chin, as the server sets three more whiskeys down on the table.

You exchange a glance with Frank before you throw back the liquid, head shaking as it burns the back of your throat. They follow suit, wasting no time at all, and while Frank leaves a generous tip at the table, you make a beeline for the door.

The cab is way too small for the three of you, but you squeeze into the middle seat anyway, biting back a wicked grin as Matt leans forward to give the driver his address.

There’s not a lot of space – well, not when you’re caught between two individuals with the muscle mass of an entire Planet Fitness combined – but you try to relax, heart racing as your body presses up against theirs. Something clenches in your jaw as you shuffle in the seat, the paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers crinkling by your feet. You’re not sure where to put your hands, but they come to settle at the edge of your sundress, where it’s ridden up almost beyond the point of modesty.

A thick finger sweeps against the back of your neck, catching you off-guard. The half-gasp half-cough you let out is louder than intended, and it draws the attention of the cab driver, who looks at you from his rearview mirror.

“Everything okay, miss?” he asks, concerned.

You will yourself to snap out of it, out of that lust-filled daze, squeezing your legs together as the throbbing in between your thighs intensifies.

“Yes,” you gulp. “Everything’s fine, thank you.”

Frank waits until the driver flicks his gaze back to the road ahead. “Didn’t mean to scare ‘ya, sweetheart. You want me to stop?”

You purse your lips. “No.”

He takes his hand away from your neck and hovers over the patch of skin your sundress did cover. He drags the tips of his fingers up your thigh, stopping just high enough to hear the tremble in your breath, shooting you a half-smirk as you suck your cheeks in.

“Frank.” Matt’s tone is stern as he tilts his chin upwards, nostrils flaring with his rising temper. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

Frank’s laugh is mirthlessly low. “Who said that, Red?”

You stare at your knee, at the big hand that’s found its mark. You’ve never noticed how gorgeous Frank’s hands are, the way he keeps his fingernails neatly trimmed, forked veins on the topside pulsating as he grips tighter, the light pink striations of healed scars running over his knuckles. And those fingers… God, if his fingers are that thick already, what would his–

You bite down on your lip, hard, as Frank pulls your knee towards him, spreading you apart in the seat. Fuck. Every nerve in your body is on fire as he lifts your hand up to his mouth, static electricity buzzing as his lips graze over your knuckles.

While Frank’s other hand slides under your dress, up to where the thin waistband of your panties sit, Matt leans over, as if to fix his seatbelt. Your eyes lull back in your head as he creeps forward instead, fingers skimming the inside of your thigh, their combined actions threatening to elicit a moan from your lips.

You’re not in control anymore.

Actually, you haven’t been in control for ages. It takes all of your willpower – well, what’s left of it – to not cry out, to not sit as far back as possible and let them…

“That’ll be $29.30,” the driver announces, brakes screeching as he pulls up outside your apartment building.

“Fuck!” you curse under your breath, reaching for your purse as you pull down your dress.

Matt grabs your wrist, locking it in place as he takes out his wallet, gliding one finger along the top of the bills.

“I think this is a 50… Frank, a little help please?” Frank grunts in agreement as Matt hands the bill to the driver. “Keep the change.”

You don’t care that you flash Frank a little as he helps you out, smirking as you watch his chest tighten at the little scrap of fabric barely covering you, clenching the bouquet of flowers in his other hand. You yelp as he pulls you out towards him, flush against the hard muscle of his chest.

His gaze is piercing as he tips your chin upwards, irises paper thin around blown pupils. “You sure you know what you’re gettin’ into, pretty girl?”

You swat his hand away. “Oh Frank, I’m not quite sure you’re ready for me.”

“What, you think I can’t handle you or somethin’?”

He trains his eyes on your mouth as it shifts into a wry smile, your tongue darting out to lick your lips in one smooth motion. Frank opens his mouth to retort, to say something with the intention of buckling your knees, but Matt walks up to you with perfect timing, offering you his arm.

“Walk with me?”

Frank groans, throwing his head back. “How many times do I have to tell ‘ya, Red? You can’t keep using that trick. What happens the day someone says no, huh? Can’t walk by yourself?”

A hearty laugh bubbles from Matt’s chest. “First of all, go to hell. Secondly,” – his voice drops to a whisper – “no one’s gonna say no to a blind man.”

He turns to you, arm still on offer. “Right, sweetheart?”

You savour the priceless look on Frank’s face as you take Matt’s arm, linking it in yours. “Absolutely, Matthew.”

The walk upstairs to their apartment is excruciatingly slow; every step laced with the type of tension that sits thickly in the air. Arm still in tow with Matt’s, Frank trails behind the two of you, the thud of his boots against the wood echoing loudly in the stairway. You can feel him staring at you, at the way your dress flutters with each step upwards, the little glimpses of your ass making his mouth go dry.

Matt stops on the next landing, jerking your arm to do the same. Wordlessly, he drops his cane to the ground, unlinking his arm, tilting his chin upwards as if to settle his phantom gaze on you.

His lips are on yours before you can say anything, hands dropping to your waist, inching you towards the wall until he has you pinned. You mewl as he slips the straps of your dress off your shoulders, trailing his kisses down your neck, pressing himself into you.

“If there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with,” – he rasps, nipping a sensitive spot on your neck – “you tell us, okay?”

He smirks against your mouth as you tell him ‘yes’, dragging the tips of his fingers from your collarbone down your arm.

But the kiss is over as quickly as it started.

“Hey, hey, hey, what the fuck, Red?” Frank spits, yanking Matt back by the collar.

“Fuck you, Frank,” Matt retorts, stepping forward as his hands tighten into fists.

You stifle a giggle, trying your best not to show your amusement at the flowers that undercut Frank’s tone.

Frank looks at you, nostrils flaring at the way Matt’s messed up your hair. “Darlin’, it’s a fair competition, yeah?”

Matt interjects as you start to agree. “Alright, Castle, then tell me how much fun you had before I got there. You had a head start.”

Frank throws his hands up in the air, shaking his head. “For God’s sake Red, I didn’t ask for you to be late–”

Matt presses his lips together, cupping his hands over his face, the exasperation in his voice imminent. “I had things to do, Frank, I–”

You clear your throat. “Why don’t you two save this for when we’re upstairs, huh?”

They turn their heads in your direction, nodding.

The two remaining flights of stairs disappear under your feet in a matter of seconds.

You swear you hear a crack as Frank bursts into the apartment, ushering you in as he scrambles to kick the front door closed. Matt lets out a little laugh as you drag him inside, stomach twisting as he yanks your hand, spinning you towards him. His lips find yours in an instant as he shrugs his suit jacket off, hands coming up to cup your jaw.

Bouquet of flowers still in hand, Frank rushes to find a vase, faucet creaking as he waits for it to fill up.

“Hey!” he yells out, “Better not start anything without me!”

Matt breaks away from your kiss to undo his tie, whipping his head towards Frank in the kitchen. “Like you waited in the cab?”

He groans into your mouth as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip, teeth gently clashing together as he steadies his hands on your face.

“Frank?!” Matt calls, pulling off his glasses.

“Yeah?”

“Here.” Matt throws his glasses at Frank, who catches them in one hand, setting them onto the counter with a soft click.

As his mouth meets yours again, Matt’s hands begin to wander. As his thumbs brush over your nipples, he dances his fingers upwards, lingering for a moment on the hollow of your throat, coaxing a soft gasp from you as he uses a knuckle to trace its outline.

His lips skirt your collarbone as he lifts your dress up, grunting as he kneads your ass, grinding his hard cock into your leg. He continues moving his hands up to where your panties sit on your hips, picking at the waistband, listening intently for the snap of the elastic against your skin as he lets go.

There it is again, that fucking smirk.

“Matt,” you exhale sharply, nipping at his earlobe as he snaps your waistband once again. “Matt…”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that,” he groans, tugging your panties down your thighs.

He presses closer to you, wedging his hand under your dress, tracing a finger up your slick folds. You’re squirming in place, chest heaving as he puts pressure on your clit, circling it in a way that pulls on the knot building behind your stomach.

You make a sound you’ve never heard before as Frank comes up behind you, thick hands gripping your waist, holding you in place, steadying you for something you’ve only ever fantasised about.

Matt sinks his fingers into you, thumb still moving over your clit, brushing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

“Attagirl,” Frank whispers, as you tip your head back into his shoulder, vision going blurry at the way Matt curls his fingers inside you.

You’re a mess, dripping all over his hand, keening into his touch.

Frank’s voice is husky in your ear. “Look up at – that’s right, baby, look up at me.”

You stare into Frank’s eyes, mouth parted in a perfect ‘o’ as Matt growls, thumb so slick with your arousal that he glides over your clit with ease. All you manage to get out is ‘mmhm’ before Frank brings his fingers to your lips, commanding you to ‘suck’.

Frank purses his lips, throat bobbing as you seal your mouth around his fingers, bucking against Matt’s touch, eyes rolling back as he hits the back of your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“That’s right, darlin’,” Frank rasps, watching the uneven rise and fall of your chest, the telltale sign of your impending release.

Your cry is muffled as your orgasm rips through your body, flooding Matt’s hand, his own slacks staining with his leaking precum. There’s a string of spit clinging to Frank as he slides his fingers out from your mouth with a pop, but it doesn’t phase him; not one bit. In fact, he tips his head down to look at you like a trophy, something like a mix of awe and desire manifesting in his darkened gaze.

You wobble as Matt and Frank step away from you, slipping your dress off as you right your balance on the couch behind, bracing your wrists on the soft leather.

But there’s no rest for the wicked, and Frank beckons you towards him as he pulls his shirt off, leaving it in a heap on the floor. He sweeps you in for a kiss, full lips insistent against yours. He’s a little rougher than Matt, but somehow, his mouth is more forgiving, warm and soft as it melds to yours. You break the kiss, stepping back for a second to look him up and down, taking in as much detail as possible.

“Holy hell,” you say, Frank’s responding expression evidence that you actually said that out loud, and not in your head.

He looks at the floor, shyly messing a hand through his hair. “S’there uh… something you like?”

“Something I like?!” you exclaim, ogling him.

“Shut up, Frank. How the– Oh my God, Matt, get over here,” you command, motioning Frank to come up behind you.

You waste no time in unbuttoning Matt’s shirt, working your way from top to bottom. Unlike Frank and his efforts to woo you by walking around shirtless, you’ve never seen Matt without clothes on. He’s always in something, to your disdain…

Until now.

A gasp escapes your lips – partly from the way Frank’s leaving marks all over your neck – at Matt’s tanned skin underneath, at what he’s been hiding this entire time. You run your hand over the vast expanse of him, jaw dropping as he flexes underneath your hand, rigid muscle sending heat to your core. Your heart stills at the scars flecking his torso, some well healed, some angry and red as if they’re new.

Frank skirts his fingers over your nipples, pulling from you the tiniest whimper.

“Uh…” Matt starts, vacant eyes flicking upwards. “I can explain–”

Your voice hushes to a whisper. “Don’t worry about it, Matty, j-just… just c’mere, okay?”

The sound of Frank’s belt being unbuckled makes your breath catch in your throat, the clinking of metal ringing faintly in your ears as your fingers graze the deep vee lines on Matt’s hips. You watch as Matt sucks his cheeks in, cock twitching against the fabric of his slacks as you hook yourself into his waistband, pulling him closer to you by his belt.

Your mouth melts against his before you turn to Frank, who you know is desperate for attention from the way his arousal presses hard into your back. His tongue slips against yours, hand curving your jaw, tracing the contours of your face before it settles on your breast, drawing out a stifled moan as he rolls your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“Alright Red,” Frank pants into your mouth, “I’m done being nice.”

Matt laughs scornfully as he kisses your neck hungrily, reaching around to your aching cunt once more.

Frank grunts as you palm him over his underwear, throwing his head back at the sensitivity of your touch. “Baby, did he make you cum good?”

You gulp, nodding as Frank smacks Matt’s hand away, rough fingers taking residence on your clit. “Yeah, Frank.”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “Really? ‘Cause that was altar boy’s first time touchin’ a pussy.”

Matt puffs his chest out, striding forward. “Oh, you–”

Frank offers Matt nothing but a smug laugh as he picks you up over his shoulder, fingers digging into your waist as he carries you to the couch like you weigh nothing. Goosebumps erupt all over you as the cool leather makes contact with your skin, then as Frank knocks your knees apart with the push of a hand. A chill runs down your spine as you bare yourself to them, and although you know Matt can’t see you spread out like you want him to, you get the idea he knows exactly what’s going on; maybe the scent of your heightened arousal is easier for him to pick up.

“I haven’t let you off the hook, Castle,” Matt snarls. “You and me? After this we’re gonna settle it our way, yeah?”

“If it makes you sleep better at night, then yeah,” Frank retorts, head settling in between your legs.

Matt curses under his breath, fists coming up to press against his forehead. “Okay– just, fine. Just describe her to me Frank? Can you do that, then we’re even?”

“For now.”

“Fine, for now.”

You wiggle up on the couch, propping yourself up by your elbows as Frank flares his nostrils, inhaling you before him. “Fuck Red… the way she’s lyin’ on her back, spread out like this…”

Matt shudders as he palms himself, nodding.

You feel yourself heating up as you continue listening. “And she’s– she’s fucking drippin’, God, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Matt pants, shrugging off his slacks, hand closing around his cock as it springs free, tip leaking with precum. “Keep going.”

“And now, I’m gonna lick her pretty little clit.” Frank looks into your eyes, lips pressed together in a hard line. “You want me to do that for you, baby?”

The way your breath shakes as you say ‘yes’ makes the both of them smirk.

Then, Frank’s tongue flattens against your clit, drawing from you a sound you’ve only ever made while fantasising about them, only in the privacy of your bedroom, of your shower, and wherever else you’ve thought about them. Your back arches as he licks wet circles into you, pressure feeling like velvet on the most sensitive part of your body.

Matt finds a spot next to you as he strokes himself, eyes squeezed shut as the sounds you make travel through his body. You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock as he leans over to play with your tits, marvelling at the thick length before you, at the way it looks like it was made for your pleasure.

‘Come here, Matt. You’re begging to be sucked’ are all the words you can manage in between moans, but he comes up right next to you, slapping his tip on your tongue. He groans as you lick along the underside of him, along the prominent vein that pulsates with every touch. He lets out a half-cry as you seal your mouth over him, taking him in so deep that he hits the back of your throat.

You start to bob your head, hand coming up to work his shaft in tandem, but Frank’s tongue slipping itself into the warmest, wettest part of you breaks you wholly, head tipping back as your peak sails through you.

Mouth and chin glistening with your cum, Frank looks up at you smugly, watching your erratic breathing as you come down from your high. He wipes his mouth before pushing off the couch to take his underwear off, cock so hard it slaps against his stomach. Your mouth goes dry at the girth, legs crossing over from the thought of him stretching you out; the pain that’ll give way to pleasure.

You get off the couch to kneel between them both, rug under your knees semi-cushioning you from the hardwood floor. A shudder runs through your body as you look up at them, standing tall over you, every hard contour of muscle illuminated in the dim light of the apartment. Pupils dilated and mind buzzing with the thought of every single thing you’d like to do to their bodies, you reach upwards, hands closing around their cocks, throbbing and warm under your touch. Your strokes are languid as you relish in the sounds that tumble from their mouths, string of curses music to your ears.

As your pace quickens, Matt tangles a hand in your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for,” he says, jerking your head back ever-so-slightly at the jolt of pleasure that runs through his body.

“Hmm,” you chuckle, flattening your tongue on his head, the half-howl half-cry he gives you making your legs shake. “And what about you, Frank?” You look up at him with innocent eyes as you shift to his cock, coating him in your saliva as he fucks the back of your throat.

He ruts into your mouth, grunting the words out. “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, darlin’.”

You move back to Matt, hand gliding easier along Frank’s length with the help of your spit, licking the underside of him before you take him all into your mouth. “Did you ever think this was gonna happen?”

Frank laughs as you push them together closer to you, taking turns to blow them. “You should see Red, jerkin’ himself to the thought of you.”

Frank jabs Matt in the chest lightly. “He’s not quiet about it.”

Matt turns red in the darkness, pursing his lips as his cock hits a spot at the back of your throat, making you gag. “Oh and what about you, Castle?”

Frank’s voice is gruff as he reaches down to play with your nipples. “Oh shut it, Red.”

You render them speechless for a second as you stuff them both into your mouth, stretching your lips to fit them in as much as possible. They’re big, bigger than you’ve ever had, so they barely fit, but God, you’re so good, trying to please them both at the same time.

“Fuck,” they curse, voices dropping an octave, Matt’s hand coiling tighter in your hair. Tears spill down your cheeks as you get sloppier, strings of saliva following you from one cock to the other.

“I can hear you,” – Matt pants – “saying her name in the shower.”

“Yeah, so? Maybe I did, once or twice.”

“No, no, no,” Matt laughs, “Not once or twice. All the damn time.”

Frank growls as Matt opens his mouth, fake moaning your name brazenly. “Cum for me darlin’, cum for m–”

A well placed kick to Matt’s ankle shuts him up, making him stumble backwards. “Yeah, okay, now I’m gonna say that to her for real.”

Frank shuffles behind you, bending you over the coffee table, pinning your outstretched arms at the wrists. The rug burn on your knees makes you hiss, but the resounding smack on your ass distracts you from the pain. It’s soothed by Frank’s wet cock slapping gently against his handprint, and then the trail of kisses he leaves from the welt to your pussy. He licks a broad stripe up your folds before plunging his fingers inside you, tongue exploring every part of you to see what sounds you make, what you like… what’s gonna get you to your next orgasm.

You let out a sharp exhale as you feel Frank being shoved away, the night air cold on your bare pussy, but you’re sent straight back to heaven as Matt’s mouth meets your core, tongue slipping inside your entrance as he spreads you apart with his hands. You recognise him by the way he eats you; he’s so much more gentler than Frank, taking his time with you as he worships your body.

But you’re not ready for the sensation of Frank lapping at your clit while Matt tongue-fucks your hole, the mewls and whimpers falling from your lips spurring them on to lick faster, prod deeper. You feel the pressure behind your stomach building to a crescendo, one that’s broken apart as you hear the sound of scuffling behind you, turning to see that Frank’s put Matt in a headlock.

Your eyes roll backwards in annoyance, frustrated at the way they’ve left you high and dry, a mix of your cum and their saliva dripping down your thighs and no orgasm to match.

“Darlin’?” Frank calls, slamming his hands on Matt’s chest.

“Yes, Frank?” you mumble, stretching your back over the coffee table.

“You want my cock?”

“Yes.”

In a flurry, Frank gets Matt flat on the ground enough that he can’t rise up to retaliate, not quickly at least, before pushing himself right into you. The combination of his thick girth and length makes you sweat, makes your eyes lull back in your head; the burn of the stretch slowly giving way to pleasure as he grinds into you.

He pulls back, far enough that you feel only the tip of him remaining inside, before slamming his hips into yours. You fall apart instantly as he drives his cock into that spot inside you, walls clenching and back arching as you pulsate around him.

Matt gets up, feet poised into a stance that screams ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you, Frank.’

“Did you? Did you just make her –”

“You’re goddamn right I did.”

Matt lets out an angry sigh before he helps you up, leading you to the dining table. He hoists you up on the table, brushing your hair to the side before grinning in your ear, every word dripping with want. “Alright sweetheart, here’s what’s gonna happen okay? I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve. None of that bullshit Castle’s been giving to you this whole time.”

The quiver in your breath makes him chuckle. “Ready for me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours?”

He drags his teeth along your pulse as you murmur ‘yes’ in his ear, nipping at the bruises Frank’s already left on your neck. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he traces himself on your folds, teasing you until you squeeze him, desperate for the gratification you know his cock will provide.

Frank comes up beside you, bending down to swirl his tongue over your nipple, fingers featherlight on your clit as he rubs it in small circles. You bite down on your bottom lip as Matt guides himself inside you, pushing until he can’t go any deeper, Frank’s fingers still wedged in between you.

He grits his teeth as he fucks you, one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around your thigh, the wet squelches of his thrusts almost too much for him to bear. Matt isn’t as girthy as Frank, but he reaches the deepest parts of you effortlessly, pistoning himself at an angle that makes you cry out his name. The way he drills himself into you echoes throughout the room, the sound of his hips snapping against yours the only thing you can focus on before you throw your head back, exploding on him.

Matt’s cocky grin makes you weak as he pulls out, chin levelling into Frank’s glowering stare. He brandishes his hands in front of him, palms pointed to you as if to say, ‘your turn now’.

Frank huffs at Matt as he scoops his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He wastes no time in filling your body with his, bending his knees as he drives himself upwards. You’re cockdumb at this point, eyes half-lidded and utterly glazed over, dopey smile the only thing you can muster as Matt tilts your chin up to his, kissing you hungrily as you moan into his mouth. Every thrust pulls from you a little mumble of unintelligible words, every nerve of yours firing at rates you didn’t think possible.

“Who’s winning, baby? Me or Frank?” Matt purrs, tongue scraping along your bottom lip.

“You’re b– fuck! Fuck, Frank!” – you say, in between his ruthless thrusts and the wicked gleam from his smile – “You’re both so good.”

You clench so tightly that Frank pops out of you for a second, but he doesn’t wait a beat to stuff himself back into you, continuing the relentless pace you know will have you ripped apart within minutes.

“That’s not good enough for us, darlin’,” Frank grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even see and I know he’s not fucking you right.”

Frank snarls at Matt, swatting him out of the way as he lifts you onto his cock, off the table. Gripping your lower back, he pumps into you harder, the new angle making you want to tip your head back and howl. Ecstasy shoots through your veins as he carries you to the bedroom, cock still buried deep inside you.

He rakes his nails up your back as he uses your waist as leverage, moving you up and down on his cock with almost no effort at all.

“Yeah darlin’,” he groans, “You feel so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?”

You whimper in response, kissing him to muffle the cry that builds up from within… and your peak sails through your body, every muscle going taut, toes curling, fingernails leaving marks on his shoulders as your overstimulated body responds to his pleasure.

He lowers you on the bed, bracketing your head with his forearms, languid kisses matching the pace of his hips. You can feel every inch of him as he thrusts into you, body expanding to accommodate him as he stills inside.

“You’re fucking infuriating, Castle,” Matt barks, standing over the two of you as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, well, if you ain’t strong enough to fuck her standing, just say so,” Frank chuckles mirthlessly, coaxing you over the edge once more.

“You didn’t give me the goddamn chance!”

“Chance?” Frank spits, squeezing one of your tits, mattress dipping as he gets off the bed. “Oh by all means Red, be my guest.”

You’re caught between a gasp and a sharp exhale as fury embeds itself in Matt’s face, lips contorting into a snarl. You’ve never seen this side of him before; this dark edge simultaneously scaring you and turning you on more than you already are.

Something snaps in Matt.

He moves so quickly you almost miss it, akin to lightning flashing in a thunderstorm, pile-driving Frank into the bed so hard it’s a tangle of limbs and testosterone. Frank hits the bed, hard, hissing as Matt’s fist makes contact with his jaw, and then…

The soft splintering of wood, pricking Matt’s ears, sending him on high alert.

And the bed breaks. Two out of four legs collapsing in on themselves, the entire bed sinking on one side, catching all three of you off guard.

“Oops,” Matt grimaces, sheepish smile adorning his face.

Frank clicks his tongue, shaking his head at the broken bed as he gets up to his feet. “Goddamn it, Red. Really had to let your anger get the better of ‘ya, huh?”

You don’t care that your words are slurring a little. You’re cockdazed, and they better learn how to deal with it real fast. “Oh my God. You know what? I’m so sick of– I should’ve never made this bet if it was gonna get you two riled up like this–”

You wobble as you stand up, scowl scrunching your nose as you bare your teeth. “I’m so–”

Matt shuts you up with a kiss, not caring that your teeth clash a little, pulling you close to him by the ass. The feeling of his hard cock pressed up against your stomach melts you from within, drawing out a moan you can’t bite back.

“You’re right, sweetheart. We’re sorry,” Matt murmurs, tangling his fingers in the back of your head.

“Yeah darlin’, he’s right. We can get uh… a little competitive,” Frank lowers his voice, coming up behind you to press his kisses into your neck.

You scoff, but it’s quickly replaced by a soft sound, one that indicates you’re far from being done.

“I dunno, Red, you think she still wants us?” Frank grits, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Oh yeah,” Matt smirks, rubbing his cock on your clit, “I think she does.”

“I promise we’re gonna make it up to you, alright?” Frank teases, running his finger over the curve of your jaw. “Whatcha say, Red, wanna stuff her and make her scream for us?”

Matt’s devious smirk grows larger. “Only if she’s fine with it.”

He tips your chin upwards, the action exposing your neck enough so Frank can close his hand around it. “Are you fine with that?”

“You got some making up to do, gentlemen.”

“S’that a yes?” they say together.

“Yes.”

“Well, the bed is broken,” Matt sniffs the air, “but, we have all night and the entire apartment to explore, right?”

Matt’s grin is different now. Devilish.

And more so when Frank reciprocates it, eyes glinting with a feral hunger. “You’re damn right.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader smut #the punisher #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader x matt murdock #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #rhi's mutuals 💗#daredevil #rhi responds 💌#saintmurd0ck 200 milestone celebration #rhi writes 💻#x reader

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trillian-anders · 5 years

Text

chambers - ix

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 4243

Description: post-endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Inspired by the Netflix series of the same name.)

The wind was howling, it rattled the shutters, the windows creaking and groaning in protest. Bucky had tried the caulk the windowsill shut but it hadn’t worked. The two young men were huddled around the small stove, door open and slowly giving off heat to warm them.

“Here we go.” Bucky rubbed his dry hands together, breath coming out in little puffs in front of his face. He sat heavily down next to you, draping an arm around your shoulder as the gas for the stove finally kicked on, the heat pouring out steadily. You were wrapped in two blankets, one thrown over Bucky’s lap. You wore a winter coat, a hat, glove covered hands twisted tightly in the hand knit blanket that your mom, Sarah, had made you that last winter before she was gone.

“You can go home Buck.” You whispered, curling into him further. “Heat’s never off at your house.” Bucky scoffed, his own head covered with a thick wool hat, scarf pulled up around his rosy cheeks.

“And leave you here to freeze?” Bucky glared at you playfully, “I told you we could both go, but you’re too proud for that. I’m not going if you’re not.” You sighed heavily, Bucky’s arm pulling your shoulder in tightly, your cheek buried against his chest.

“You think my Ma is making beef stew tonight?” Bucky asked quietly. Your stomach growled at the thought, eyes dropping in exhaustion. You’d just gotten over another cold. How would pneumonia help you?

“Maybe…” You shifted against his chest, “Maybe we should go see.” Bucky grinned, laying a fat wet kiss to your cheek before helping you from the ground and turning to stove off, shutting the door with his foot.

“Let’s go.”

…

“Let’s go.” You said. The exit ramp of the Quinjet lowered, the wind howling against the sides of the ship. A hand met your shoulder and you turned.

Bucky looked haunted here. A few seconds ago when you were in the shared apartment he looked so much less hollow. Less scarred.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Leave all of your new friends. Betray Tony. You had to. This was Bucky. And you trusted Bucky. More than anything. And if what he said was true then there were five more guys just like him waiting behind this reinforced door they were about to walk up to.

“Til the end of the line Buck.” He choked, not looking at you for a moment, his hand gripping your shoulder tightly. He shook his head,

“I’m not worth all this Steve.” But you’re worth everything to me.

Everything.

…

“I’m gonna go back.” Your breath caught in your throat. It felt thick in this room. Unbreathable. Bucky looked at you sadly from across the small dining table in your apartment. The funeral was yesterday.

“When you take the stones?” His voice was unwavering. Not betraying the emotion his eyes were giving you. Your heart was breaking.

“Yeah,” You breathed, “I… I don’t belong here, I can have this second chance…” the words felt empty. How could you do this?

What about my second chance? Bucky should say. I don’t get a second chance. He should be screaming. Please scream at me. Please.

“You’re goin’ back for Peg?” He asked you very calmly. His eyes were glassy, unfocused. You felt yourself nod. Beg me to stay. Please beg me to stay.

“I love her Buck.” But I love you too. Please. Do something. Anything. Bucky nodded, standing and stepping away from the table, turning his back to you for a moment.

“Sam should get the shield.” He said. Shoulders tense, he didn’t turn back to you. “If you’re gonna do this, Sam deserves it.” You felt yourself nod, wringing your hands together. It was silent for a beat. Then a beat more. “So this is the end of the line?”

…

A fist meets your face, your head snapping back, neck cracking from impact. You stumble, fists coming up, swinging back. Making contact.

“Captain America.” The thug spat blood. “You’re much smaller in person.” The guy was a giant. Had to be on the higher end of 6’7 and pushing 400 lbs. all muscle. Slow. And dumb. Evaluate Rogers. Take him down.

You moved quickly, shield spinning to ricochet off the wall to hit him from behind making him stumble forward, your leg kicking him in the chest and stunning his lungs, fist coming to crack against his jaw and the man fell to the floor unconscious as you caught the shield.

Footsteps from above and a voice over the coms, “What about that new agent? What’s her name?” Natasha. Fucking Natasha.

“How am I supposed to know?” You grunted as you rolled the man over to grab a key card from his pocket.

“Sarah!” She yelled in triumph, “She seems very vanilla.” You didn’t know what that meant but,

“Sarah was my Mother’s name so… no thanks.” You swiped the key card for the room you were in, the mechanical door hissing and opening. This base. You remember it from other memories. The thought coming to you as Steve takes you room to room. Silently dispatching whoever is in his way. A thumb drive. It’s always some stupid little thumb drive that could totally dismantle an organization.

But this was Hydra.

And this little thumb drive was a piece of a greater puzzle, and you didn’t have the picture on the box to guide you. This base. Why was it so familiar?

Something was striking you as you forced Steve’s eyes to take one last look around the room.

There!

Right there!

A black and white photo from a newspaper. One you’ve seen before. A man and two others. Holding guns in military uniform. The man’s face in the middle circled in red.

Zemo.

You groan. Head pounding. Eyes glued shut. There was a rhythmic beeping. A heart monitor. You could feel little electrodes stuck to your face and chest. The blanket over you was yours though, not the scratchy one you knew was used in the medical ward of the compound. Your eyes slowly opened, trying to shake the exhaustion out of them, your eyes focused in the dim room on your ceiling.

This was your room still.

You felt sluggish, eyes rolling shut before opening slowly. You turned your head to see Wanda dozing off in the chair beside you, a second chair empty to her left.

Your heart monitor was on her right, along with a machine that was tracking your brain activity. One you’d seen used before during your many tests Bruce liked to run. The blinds were open, the early morning light shining through.

A glass of water was on your night stand, two little white pills beside it. Your hands found purchase beneath you and your arms shook as you pushed yourself up against the headboard. Wanda snoozed on, cheek pressed against her fist.

You shakily grabbed the water, taking a sip before taking the two pills and chugging the glass, the thirst you were feeling not even close to being quenched. You sat back heavily, fingers still wrapped around the glass as you thought back to what caused you to be in this position right now.

Zemo.

Fucking Zemo.

You know you can’t trust him. He wants what? To rebuild Hydra? A greater tomorrow? Sure. For certain people a greater tomorrow. The ones so struck by their fear and ignorance that they’d strike down anyone different than them just to have control.

He’d get rid of your medical bills.

Your parents would be financially stable again. You’d be financially stable for the first time in your life. You could move on. You could travel. You’d always wanted to travel.

These people, Wanda. Sam. Bucky.

Bucky.

Would they really care about you after all this was over? It’s been almost two weeks since you’d come to the compound. These were superficial friendships to be sure. Coworker friendships. Once you’d left you’d be forgotten. Right now they were taking care of you. But was it only because of Steve? Your hand lay over the scar on your chest.

Your heart was breaking.

Steve’s emotions were fully infused with your own. You loved these people. These people who you barely knew but you knew entirely. These people you’ve fought beside and haven’t. You didn’t know where Steve began and you ended anymore.

The memories the year before you came here were once in a blue moon. Something would strike you and then you would tumble into a memory. Something Steve would show you. Since being here they were daily and sometimes multiple times a day. Who were you anymore?

You look at your hands and you could swear for a moment they weren’t even yours.

Zemo wants your blood for obvious reasons. Even the watered down generic super serum that you’d been getting the effects from ran you at half capacity for Steve’s abilities. If Zemo got his hands on it surely he’d be able to isolate the serum and enhance it.

He didn’t want old Winter Soldiers. He wanted new ones. Ones he’d formed himself. One maybe he could become himself.

“Y/N.” Wanda’s voice was soft, sleepy. Her hands came to take the glass from you. “How are you feeling? You’ve been out for a little over a day.” Your voice was raspy, throat still dry.

“I’m okay.” You shifted in bed, looking at her, unsure, “Where’s Bucky?” You remember him being the last thing you saw before you’d entered your seizure. His arms catching you before you hit the ground, cushioning your head in his palm. His mouth forming your name, but your ears not hearing it.

The empty chair, Wanda looked at it for a second before replying, “He’s taking a shower, he’ll be back in a minute. Are you hungry?” You were ravenous.

“Yeah, I could eat.” She came back with a spread a moment later. Breakfast plate stolen with what looked like Sam’s cooking. He must have been up making breakfast already.

“What happened during your seizure?” She asked. You swallowed the fork full of eggs before replying,

“I had four memories.” Four of them. So cold. Freezing temperatures in each one. But you know that couldn’t have been entirely true. Steve told Bucky he was leaving in autumn. But it felt like you were sitting in an ice box. Something wasn’t right there.

“Hmm.” She picked at her fingernails, “What do you think of Zemo?” Her voice was soft, like she already knew, she had to. But she was asking anyway.

“I can’t.” You shook your head, “No matter how quickly he could make my problems disappear...” Your fingers rolled a piece of fuzz between them, fork lay discarded on the plate. “I feel like it would make an even greater mess of things.” Wanda nodded, shifting back in her seat.

“Do you think--” The door clicked open, Bucky shuffling in quietly and catching your eye almost immediately, his blue orbs widening.

“You’re awake!” A soft smile. It warms your heart. He looked to Wanda, handing her a cup of coffee he’d prepared for her before sitting down in the chair beside her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, how are you feeling?” Your heart skipped a beat. A shadow in the corner of your eye and there was Steve, but he wasn’t looking at you. Forlorn eyes stared at Bucky. Your breath hitched,

“I’m okay, thanks.” Your heart began to race as you felt Steve’s eyes move to you. A chill ran down your spine. A fucking ghost he was. Bucky sipped his coffee, the strong black brew permeating it’s scent through the room. Bucky kind of always smelled like black coffee now that you thought about it. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” He cleared his throat, “Listen, I don’t know how you feel about Zemo and--”

“I’m not gonna do it Buck.” Your voice tense. His face serious suddenly. He nodded.

“Okay.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.” Wanda placed her coffee mug on the end table.

“But I think we should pretend like you are going to.” She said. “If Zemo thinks you’re going to give in we could lead him into a trap.” Fingers circling the rim of the coffee mug.

“I think that’s a good idea.” You agreed. “We should talk to Sam and--”

“We aren’t using you as bait.” Bucky scoffed, turning to Wanda, “We aren’t using her as bait.” You and Wanda share a look.

“We’ll see what Sam says.” You nod to Wanda. She takes a long drink of her coffee,

“I’ll give you two a minute.” You watched her back as she left the room, shutting the door silently.

“Buck-”

“Y/N-”

You talked over each other, then silence. Both of you staring at one another. “You’re not going to be used as bait.” He started, “It’s not-- You’re not--”

“Bucky.” You lay a hand over his, the hand beneath you rough and calloused. More so than you remembered, but knuckles still split, some still healing. “Whatever it takes… Zemo is a threat. You know better than anyone that he’ll do whatever he thinks is necessary to get what he wants.” His blue eyes not leaving yours, it was intense and made you nervous, “He’ll come for me whether we do this or not.”

“So let him come for you, you’re at the fucking Avengers compound for christ sake.” He stood from the chair, stepping back to pace. “There’s a whole army worth of people here to keep him out.” He ran his metal fingers through his cropped hair, exasperatedly.

“Buck… I can do this. I may not fully be like Steve, but I’m half capacity at least. I can--”

“You don’t know how to use it, you’ll get hurt, you can barely defend yourself.”

“So show me!” You yelled, “I know all of his moves,” You tap your temple, “They’re all up here, I just need the practice.” Bucky shook his head, hands coming to his hips.

“It’s not safe,” He spoke evenly, “You’re not Captain America, Y/N.”

“No.” You sat back heavily against the pillows behind you, “I’m not, but this guy is bigger than me and you. This is about possibly saving the world and I get it, we don’t trade lives, but I can hold my own against a couple thugs,” His eyes met yours once more, a softness there, “Let me try.” He stepped closer to the bed,

“It’s not worth you getting hurt.” He said softly, fingers brushing yours. Your heart skipped.

“Show me how to not get hurt and I won’t.” You intertwined your fingers, both of you looking at your joined hands. Your heart fluttering in your chest, butterflies in your stomach, “Please… Jaime.”

He snatched his hand from yours quickly, taking a step back, eyes rapidly searching yours. Your heart dropped, “I’m sorry... Bucky.” You tried to grab his arm again but he stepped out of reach, a pang in your chest and your eyes began to water. “Bucky, please.”

“Don’t.” His voice tense, shaky, “Just don’t.” And he left.

Fuck. Fuck.

Bucky stomped down the hallway, turmoil bubbling in his chest as he reached his room, slamming the door shut. The hinges screamed in protest. His fingers an imprint on the side of the door. He gripped the short hair on his head and pulled, letting out a clenched teeth scream in aggravation, sitting on the end of his bed and resting his elbows on his knees.

Jaime.

Steve had called him that once, and only once… and that means you’ve seen… He shakes his head. Fuck. His breathing is heavy, heart aching in his chest as he remembers how Steve left.

Steve left him.

Even though they could try. It was different now, times were different now. But Steve left. Steve left him. He made a choice and he chose to leave him. He couldn’t fault Peggy. He couldn’t be angry with her for getting to keep Steve. Getting to love him. But the jealousy was there. And this feeling brewing in his chest at the sight of you, left him empty and wanting.

And confused.

So confused.

You were this soft enigma in his life. This worried presence. He didn’t know how to act around you half the time, the other half it was just like taking care of Steve all over again. But it wasn’t. It was you. You knew things about him no one else did and it was easy to forget until something like that spilled from your tongue.

Jaime.

He could almost feel Steve’s lips against his again. In that tent. Right after he’d been rescued. The desperation. The love. A chill goes down his spine. He could feel eyes on him, but when he looks around he sees nothing. It’s just him, alone in his room. The empty walls and bland neutrals he didn’t care to dress up. A pile of clothes on the chair of his desk he had yet to put away and a laptop haphazardly placed on the coffee table next to a pile of notebooks.

Memories.

Confirming kills.

Planning on things to bring up in therapy next week. Planning on things to avoid. And in that pile of notebooks is a new one, a red cover. You. Everything he knew about you. Every detail of your life. Every hospital visit, every heart failure. The names of the hearts before Steve’s. The people your body rejected. Your family. Your parents who lived in a two story house in New Jersey. They have two dogs. Your grandparents live with them. Your Mom works at a doctor’s office in the city. Your Dad is a barber. You don’t have any siblings.

It’s why your parents had banked so much on you and you avoided them when you failed.

Bucky remembers the jab he’d taken when he first met you. “So what are you going to do with your life now? Now that you have this second chance?” He regret it as soon as it left his dumb mouth. He’d really lost his touch with women. He’d watched you curl in on yourself, the disappointment and failure you’d felt amplified by the knowledge that he knew you weren’t important.

Not at the time anyway.

You were so important now. Bucky’s heart panged with the thought. It was the third time he’d seen you in a situation he couldn’t help you in. The first seizure in the coffee shop, the second when he’d walked into your apartment and saw your destroyed legs, and now with a seizure that seemed to never want to end. Bruce had been worried about brain damage. Luckily you were fine.

But you weren’t fine.

Bucky flipped through the red notebook. A picture of you smiling back at him. An article from a newspaper, tubes connected to you as they announced that after fifteen years you’d finally gotten a new heart. A little fluff piece in the local paper he’d kept after they were informed about Steve’s donation. The first time he’d actually seen you aside from the funeral.

He felt all choked up. He needed to talk to Sam before you did. He had to come up with some other plan. There had to be a way to get to Zemo first. Without using you as bait and without waiting for Zemo to come to them. There had to be some sort of Plan C.

...

“He passed the polygraph.” Sharon stated, “He excelled on the obstacle course and in hand to hand he held his own.” Arms crossed as they watched him, sitting on the other side of the two way mirror. Sam stepped into view beside her, mimicking her stance.

“What do you think?” Sam asked her.

“He might be a valuable asset.” She said optimistically.

“Bucky’s not a fan of him.”

“Bucky isn’t a fan of anyone,” Sharon scoffed. Sam shrugged, nodding.

“Have him start in the morning, take him down to the barracks.” She placed papers in a folder in front of her, shuffling and organizing them as Sam continued, “Let Eric Josten know he’s welcome on the team on a trial basis.”

Eric, your Eric, sat on the other side of that glass. A grey Avengers t-shirt stretched tightly across his chest, the polygraph machine still laying in the off position in front of him.

“Bucky really isn’t going to be happy.” Sam said to himself, exiting the interrogation hall and pressing a button to call the elevator. As he waited he contemplated how he was going to break the news to Bucky. Tomorrow was typically their day with the cadets so he had to do it tonight, but when tonight? Maybe after Bucky has eaten two full pizzas he might be sleepy and more compliant than with an empty stomach? Or maybe a text as Bucky’s about to fall asleep so maybe he wouldn’t see it until the morning even though technically he’d told him the night before?

“Sam.” Wanda entered the elevator beside him, “I need to talk to you about Y/N.” Sam hit the close door button, the elevator began to make it’s ascent.

“Is she awake?” He asked, turning towards her.

Wanda nodded and continued, “She’s not going to turn herself over to Zemo, we’ve already discussed, we think it might be possible to--” The elevator stopped, doors opening revealing Bucky on the other side. His eyes widened at the sight of Wanda, stepping in and immediately beginning,

“Wanda we aren’t using her as bait.” She huffed annoyed,

“We would all be right there, it’s not as if she’s defenseless--”

“She is defenseless, and there’s no telling what Zemo has up his sleeve,”

“We would all be a couple of yards away as he revealed his location, I would be RIGHT THERE-”

“Absolutely not, there’s only a definite amount of bases he could be at-”

“If he even is at a Hyrda base, you have no idea where he could be.”

“That’s why we would gather some intel before-”

“And how long will that take?” Sam stepped between the two Avengers as the elevator stopped again.

“Chill out, both of you.” Sam stated in his Captain voice, “We’ll discuss this as a team in our meeting tomorrow, for now let’s just make sure Y/N is making a good recovery,” The trio stepped from the elevator into the main common room, “And by the way Eric will begin training tomorrow,” Bucky’s face contorted into rage as Sam took a step back into the elevator and quickly hit close door, muffling his shouted reply as the elevator climbed once again, taking him away from his current problem and into a future one.

How were they going to do this?

How could you ever look at him again?

Your cheeks had flushed with embarrassment almost immediately. The little pet name, it had slipped from your mouth before you could even think about it. The tenderness in which he held your hand, for a minute you just forgot who you were. You forgot who you weren’t. Because that’s what this is right?

Stupid fucking Steve and his stupid fucking emotions ruining your life.

Hot tears ran down your cheeks in the moments after you were left alone in your room. How could you be so stupid? These feelings that were bubbling in your chest weren’t yours. They just weren’t. This love and affection you felt for him was one sided, it was just because of Steve. Stupid, stupid Steve and this stupid haunted heart that wouldn’t just stop.

Why you? Why these memories? Why was this fucking guy now after you? For some diluted super serum? You sunk back heavily into the sheets, tear tracks dried on your face, still hot in embarrassment. Alone.

Until you weren’t.

A gentle knock and your door opened. The soft smile, dimpled cheek, bright eyed Eric entered your room, “Hey.” He said quietly, taking note of your red eyes he came to your side quickly, taking your hand in his. They were softer than Bucky’s, his knuckles weren’t split. “What’s wrong?” You shake your head, wiping your cheeks with your free hand until he gently cupped your face.

“It’s nothing.” Your voice still watery.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.” He was kneeling by your bed, face so close to yours. Sweet plush lips. You are vulnerable. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. That maybe it was a mistake, but you needed it. You needed it so badly. You pressed your lips to his.

He seemed shocked at first, before his hand drifted from your cheek to the nape of your neck, meeting your lips over and over in a series of small kisses that brought those butterflies back into your stomach. His tongue brushed your bottom lip and you couldn’t help but deepen the kiss. Trying to fill that hollowness in your chest. This ache that you know will never go away because it’s the hole that Steve had left for Bucky.

It’s the emptiness you felt when Bucky ran away from you, that rejection you were now using Eric to soothe.

He rested his forehead against yours, breath still mingling. “I really liked that.” He whispered, his eyes still half lidded looking at your lips.

“Me too.” And you kinda did.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #captain america #steve rogers #sebastian stan #bruce banner

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

Tuesday 4 July 1837

8 ¼

12 10

fine morning F65° at 9 10 – breakfast about 10 minutes or ¼ hour with A- before Mr. Gray came asked how she was middling I calmly said she could not be better going on in this way I was very sorry only wished her happiness would not wish her to stay here if she thought she could be happier anywhere but it was a serious thing in leaving here she left independence and I thought almost every comfort she cried but did not speak as she had evidently done her breakfast I begged she would not stay unless she liked it and she was just gone before Mr. Gray came – sat talking to Mr. Gray about furnishing the hotel – he very knowing about beds and furniture in general – particularly about feathers – should buy the tick and weigh it than put in as many feathers as required and weigh the bed and pay for the feathers per lb. 1/6 per lb. for the best Dantzic – well dessed by the feather merchant – will ¼ weight or 6lbs. out of 20 in dressing – feathers called 1st and 2nd

SH:7/ML/E/20/0086

grays – 2nd grays as good as the 1st but the 1st a better colour, that is, white – feathers should be well stoved (in a large iron room (oven) with sulphur) on apt to smell putrid – sat talking till 10 1/3 when Holt came and Wood the engineer Grays’ brother in law an upholster did not wish me to name this to Mr. Harper or the head designed for upholsterers some allow their designers ssix guineas a week – had H- in the little room with the great plan before us – it will be difficult for Messrs. Stocks and c° to carry off the Spiggs water – talked over Mr. Rawson’s low bed sough or loose, and staith at the bottom of the Bank – H- would rather give him a thousand pounds than miss it – Mr. Pollett came at last after 11 Mr. Harper came and finding H- with me I left them a little while together and while the 4 men were together I came upstairs – copied the plan of Lower brea by SW- dated 21 January and lent to me by Mr. George R- sometime back – Mr. Harper sent for me – gave him Bates’ estates – Wood throws blame on Mr. Husband – sent off John Booth immediately for Mr. Husband and with a line or 2 in pencil to ‘Messrs. Parker and Adam solicitors H-x’ to ask either of them to be here at 8 this evening to meet Mr. Harper and told John to let Holt the engineer know Mr. Harper was here – went into the cellar – looking over papers of one sort or other and wrote the above of today till now 1 ½ - a little while ago the H-x paper came and a civil letter from Mr. Harper’s brother the solicitor at York to say his brother had not received my letter but he (Mr. Edward H- the solicitor) had written to inform him of there being such letter – H-x letter queer looking address to me or A- one or both informing me or her that Francis Carter had let his house for lodgings to a man who pottered the whole street and begging ‘pase’ peace, I suppose – went down to A- she said she had written to her sister and after telling the contents gave me the copy of her letter to read little Mary and Hannah to go next Friday week A- said she had asked for Crownest thought of going to Scotland for three weeks and asked me to let George go with her as far as Edinburgh she should order furniture in Leeds in going at Kendells’ of course I thought all arranged well then said I it is done I can only hope you will be happy I supposed there was an explanation to her sister and said am glad you have written for if you had not I should I am satisfied this is the best way you could have managed the matter I was not a little surprised to find the letter so expressed that that Mrs. S- would suppose A- wanted part of Crownest for some friend no hint at her going to Scotland nothing that as at explanatory or that could not easily be got over it might have been done to try me I saw this and laughed in my sleeve but said nothing and went to Mr. Harper a little while with Mr. Harper – he had sent for me vid. line 12 of this page to say Wood the engineer said he had never seen the plan of the wheel as amended by Mr. Husband and approved at York – I had sent off John Booth to H-x immediately for Mr. Husband and Messrs. Pollett and Wood were detained till he came – he proved that Mr. Wood had seen the plan and had it in his possession some weeks and it being referred to in the estate Mr. Harper took Mr. Husbandds’ copy of the plan and signed it, and insisted on the contract being adhere to – he agreed to my agreement for the pen-trough etc and allowed extra £6 for the back shuttle omitted! in the last estate – H- said he was glad to settle the matter on these terms – afraid of their setting aside the contract, and then he could not tell what I should have to pay (some hundred) for useless weight of iron – they would now lose £30 or £40 by it – He had bound them down to a month for having all done – but they were to make all possible exertion to get the pumps going in a fortnight from this time –Mr. Husband to be finally settled with tomorrow – a clerk of the works would be wanted for 2 months longer – I begged Blythe might have the place – H- had named it to him and he begged to consider about it – it was now about 21/4 – went back to A- who left me for ¼ hour while I saw Mr. Jubb in the north parlour and sat with her till she rode off to Cliff Hill about 3 ½ - began by hoping her going to Scotland would do her good she did not know that she should go said I had always thought she had better not go there without me and that she had better make a very different journey and go with me to Rotterdam etc etc I quizzed her a little and I think she was not sorry to get right again when she said we had been unhappy of late no no said I not we I know nothing about it and you have been more unhappy in your stomach than in your heart – told A- I had asked Mr. Jubb (who called about 2 ¼) what he thought would be good for her; and I much wished she would be persuaded to take what he recommended (blue pill at night and effervescing draught in the morning) out again about 3 ½ - about with Mawson at the hay barn road thro’ the wood – (A- took back to Lower brea this afternoon the plan of the Lower brea land I rough copied this morning) sometime with Mawson settling about the hay barn road – the 3 men he has now at the meer barrowing stuff (ornament stuff) to the by wash not enough for so long a run as from near the hut (on the other side) and to be taken off tomorrow to form the hay barn thro’ the wood at 4/. per rood – at the meer about 5 – full nearly within 2 or 3 in. up to the by wash so as to run over – stood musing and watching the 3 men till 6 – came in at 6 10 – dinner at 6 ¼ Mr. Harper (1st time) dined with us he having to stay till 8 to meet Mr. Parker respecting advertising and letting the Northgate hotel –sat at table about 1 ½ hour – Mr. Harper explained defect in Fowlers’ Hungford market roof (the tie-beams supported by iron rods the iron rods too slender to be of any use as spurs) and said that turning to his papers the other day reminded him of professor Morris of Cambridge shewing that the Menai bridge was wrong in principle the curve ab should = bc and equilibrium is the principle of a suspension bridge .:. ed should = cd which is not the case

SH:7/ML/E/20/0087

but Telford was the inventor of the suspension principle and was thinking too much of the invention to work it out right – Professor Airie had observed at the 1st (in his lectures) that there was an error in the mathematical construction but left his pupils to find it out – had not courage to explain – Captain Brwon saw the error and built Hammersmith bridge over the Thames right – Vauxhall bridge would tumble but for the smartness of the span of the arches – the famous bridge over the Doria at Turin (vid. last and 1st numero of the Transactions of the engineers) tumbling down – too little allowed by government for the school of drawing (architectural drawing) £250 per annum – one or 2 necessary works would cost the whole EG. Piranesis’ antiquities of Rome – could not be bought perfect for less than £100 in Rome – and duty 1d. per plate – it would cost from £100 to £150 – the celebrated German work (published at Berlin and just complete) on ornament = £30 guineas English money at Berlin – Mr. Parker came at 8 – left him with Mr. Harper about ½ hour – then had all in to tea and coffee at 8 ½ - A- had talked more than usual at dinner – joined in the conversation con spirit, and ditto ditto at tea – spoke very decidedly against Mr. Carrs’ having the hotel – to be advertised immediately – in the London Times and Morning Herald – 2 H-x papers Leeds mercury Liverpool ditto Manchester Guardian Yorkshire Gazette and Edinburgh North British advertiser = 9 papers – Mr. Harper said he had told Mr. Parker what it should let for to remunerate me (which seemed to be £450) – H- thought 5pc. enough on building! and had evidently reckoned 5pc on £7000 + £3000 as value of the old house and land taken – yet he afterwards seemed to eat up his words a little so as to mean 5pc. clear and 2pc. to be laid by for repairs – but £450 rent = 5pc. on £1000 without anything to lay by for repairs – However he said I had better turn it to something else than little it for less than £300 a year – Mr. P- thought Carr should have it for less than anybody else – why said I, should he have Northgate for a hundred a year less than he now pays for the White Swan? the absurdity struck P- and he agreed that he ought not to pay less than £400 – but to ask £500 – he from the 1st moment mentioned furniture – I agreed that if required I would find all but plate, china, linen, and culinary things – I think there was a 5th exception but I forget what – what pc. to be paid on the furniture? put it to the vote all round A- and Mr. Harper said 10 Mr. Gray 15 Mr. P- 20pc. and would not take less – H- thought £2000 would do all required of me – term to be 5 years – security for the rent from 1 September next – Blythe considered to accept the place of clerk of the works – P- took me aside into the little parlour and gave me back my bond of 1835 to Mr. William Wainhouse for £1000 – it was 10 ½ before Messrs. P- and H- went away – raining then

Mawson having the mowing and hay making and housing at 13/. per DW- he finding all beer cut the grass growing on the intend Incline platform at the top of the bank – yesterday afternoon and mowed the wheat field today – he pays for 7DW. mowing advised by J. Booth

Robert Mann + 5 at the new pool a little while in the morning then the rest of the day throwing up on the east side the soil of the back Lodge road near the top – 3 of Mawsons’ men at the meer barrowing stuff from near the hut to by-wash ornament – 2 masons at the new door into the kitchen – Edward at the laundry drying closet - [?] of the old garden wall near the west yew tree taken down for bricks for the laundry chimney – fine day raining at 10 ½ pm F55° at 11 10 pm

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eilonwiiy · 5 years

Text

Bookends ; A Witchlands AU

Chapter 6

Iseult and Aeduan cross paths and test the limits of social anxiety...

Summary: Iseult det Midenzi never expected to go to a top university, so when her mother falls ill and she is forced to drop out to make ends meet, life has never seemed so unfair. But when she starts working at the local library and is unexpectedly assigned in the Children’s Room, a certain monosyllabic man and his thrice-damned demon child start showing up and Iseult begins to wonder if the threads of fate have a plan for her after all.

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Ships: Iseult/Aeduan, Safi/Merik, and more… stay tuned!

Tags: modern AU, college setting, family, friendship, humor, fluff, slow-burn, romance, eventual smut

Read on AO3: here

Tag list: (please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @lseultdetmidenzi @twilightlegacy13

* . * . * . * .

4 days had passed and still Evrane had not called.

Friday afternoon found Aeduan parked outside Cora and Lisbet’s school in his car, fingers drumming restlessly across the steering wheel. His phone was stashed away in his pocket, practically burning a hole through his pants for all its temptation. Twice he had almost ripped the damn thing out and made the call to Evrane. Twice he’d thought better of it.

She said she’d call him with her schedule. He wasn’t about to waste his time hunting her down.

A disgruntled noise from the backseat made Aeduan look over his shoulder.

Owl blinked sleepily at him from her car seat, bottom lip puffed out and pouty. She looked more like a puffy pink marshmallow crammed into a much too small space, the shiny nylon material of her winter coat spilling out from underneath the tightly drawn straps holding her hostage. She hated the contraption almost as much as Aeduan. He had taken down 400 lb men high on coke in less time than it took him to wrangle Owl into the damn thing. At least now she didn’t kick and scream.

“Not much longer,” Aeduan told her, checking at the clock on the dashboard.

They’d fallen into a comfortable routine on the weekends. On Friday afternoons, Aeduan, along with Owl, would drive up to Ponzin and pick up the two sleepover bags Ragnor left for Aeduan on the porch of his childhood home. Then, they would head over to Lisbet and Cora’s school and camp out there until the bell rang.

Today had gone the same as usual, except Aeduan had added one extra pit stop along the way: Jitters.

Aeduan took a sip from his lukewarm coffee, watching the regular crossguard unpack his gear from his van. He hadn’t planned on going back to the coffee shop, especially after how irritating his experience with that inept barista had been. But from the moment he woke up, he found himself craving the coffee’s smooth, rich taste.

Fortunately, the girl wasn’t working. He’d been able to purchase his coffee and a muffin to split with Owl in peace.

Outside, the crossguard unfolded a flimsy collapsible chair by the crosswalk and settled down into it with his stop sign resting across his lap. He was an older man, with wispy white hair tucked underneath a faded red baseball cap and wore wire-rimmed glasses. The moment he relaxed in the chair, his head turned towards Aeduan’s parked car. He nodded in greeting and Aeduan nodded back. It was their thing.

Aeduan was so used to people avoiding him when he was in uniform that such a small, customary gesture was unnerving. He was still getting used to it. Sometimes he forgot he wasn’t wearing it anymore. Or carrying a gun. Not that he needed one to be scary. There were plenty of inmates who could testify to that.

The unmistakable sound of a bell announcing the end of the school day rang in the distance. Soon enough kids would be pouring out the doors. It would be some time before Lisbet and Cora would be out though. Aeduan knew by now that Lisebt liked to chat with her teachers after class, ask any one of the dozen follow-up questions she always had about the lesson or go over a problem she got wrong on the previous night’s homework. Aeduan loved that about her. And Cora would wait dutifully by the door until she was ready. He loved that too.

Aeduan continued to rap his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched the crossing guard guide the first and most eager to start their weekend group of kids across the street. Aeduan’s attention stayed with one boy about Cora’s age, around 6 or 7, who broke off from the group, hustling as fast as his little feet could take him. Waiting for him outside a car was a man, presumably his father, and when the boy got to him, he jumped into his arms, backpack and all. The man held him tight and pressed a kiss to his cheek before setting him down and ushering him into the backseat of his car while the kid started jabbering away.

His coffee was down to its very last dregs, but Aeduan took an absent sip from the cup anyway, staring hard at the dad tossing the kid’s backpack in the trunk and closing it shut, all the while the boy had his head poked outside the open window and was still talking animatedly as if he couldn’t wait the 5 seconds it would take for his dad to get into the car.

Aeduan remembered when Ragnor used to surprise him after school to pick him up in his patrol car. Such a spectacle. All the other kids would watch in envious fascination as Aeduan ran to the man in the intimidating uniform waiting by super cool sleek car with the silently flashing lights that he put on just for his son. They’d hover around the car, asking all sorts of questions and beg to hear the siren, to which the police officer would oblige to much cheering. Only when the young pretty school teacher caught up to the boy and slipped into the arms of the man to kiss him would the children scatter.

Aeduan never understood why Ragnor had pushed so hard for Cora and Lisbet to go to Covent Academy. He had stopped coming when Aeduan was ten.

Without much warning, Aeduan slapped his hand down on the steering wheel, and Owl, who had been close to falling asleep, jerked awake confused. Aeduan shook his head, furious with himself for what he was about to do, but he couldn’t stop himself. Something about seeing that little boy outside with his father flicked a switch in him, and he shifted jerkily in his seat to gain access to the phone in his back pocket. When he’d freed it, he didn’t give himself a second to think about it. He swiped open his phone and pressed call on his most recent contact.

“Hello,” a melodious voice said from the other end.

“Why haven’t you called me back?” Aeduan demanded.

There was a pause. “Aeduan. How... unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” Aeduan repeated in a barely controlled growl. “Have you already forgotten our agreement?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten.” The words were spoken slowly and calmly. There was no defensive edge to them. That only spurred Aeduan on.

“Then why haven’t you called? You said you would look over your schedule and get back to me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Evrane mused lightly. The casual observation scraped over Aeduan’s tightly-wound nerves. “Well, now that you have me, why don’t you and Owl come in on Monday?”

“Monday,” Aeduan deadpanned. “That’s it? You don’t need to look over your schedule?” He expelled a bitter breath. “What, were you just waiting for me to call you?”

Silence answered him, and somehow Aeduan knew Evrane was smiling. He exhaled deeply.

“You were waiting for me to call you,” he said again, resigned to the truth. But his anger could only be kept at bay for so long, and with a surge of resentful understanding he bit out, “A test.”

“Aeduan,” Evrane said, his name sounding sad on her tongue. “If Owl is to be your child, she needs to be your priority. Always. You can’t wait around for others to cater to her needs. And you certainly can’t let your pride get in the way of doing what’s in her best interest. I didn’t mean for this to be a test. I- ” She cut herself off as though afraid to continue. Aeduan’s ears latched on to the silence hovering on the other end of the line, overly aware of his heart beating against his ribs. “I want to help Owl, Aeduan. But I can’t do that if you don’t trust me. Owl’s issues are now your issues. You’re just as much a part of this agreement as she is. I know this isn’t easy for you, but maybe… maybe it’s not so easy for me too. I never thought I’d get a second chance to help you.”

Aeduan shook his head, looking down at his lap, thankful that she couldn’t see him. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured. He recognized the irony in saying that possibly to the one person responsible for saving his life. Perhaps Evrane heard it too because she chuckled a second later, a watery sound that broke Aeduan’s heart.

“You’ve made it this far, haven’t you?”

Something that might have been laugh escaped Aeduan’s throat. “No thanks to you.”

There was that silent smile again. “Enjoy your weekend with the girls. I’ll see you and Owl on Monday.” And with that Evrane hung up.

Aeduan lifted his head and checked his rearview mirror; Owl was watching him curiously as though to ask if he was alright. He gave her a tired smile.

If Owl is to be your child…

If he was going to be a father. That’s what Evrane really had wanted to say. And she was right. About everything, of course. Aeduan wasn’t an idiot. He could be stubborn as all hell, be disagreeable to even the most patient of people, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew when he was in the right and he knew when he was in the wrong, and perhaps the worst thing worth knowing was that he had been wrong on all counts when it came to Evrane.

He’d have to try harder. For Owl. For his-

He couldn’t even say the word. She wasn’t his anything. Not yet.

The school lawn was littered with children now. After about ten more minutes, the front doors opened again and both Lisbet and Cora appeared. With a sharp pang of realization, Aeduan recognized Sister Nadya in the doorway behind them and watched as she waved goodbye to the girls. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her kind smile, discernible even from such a distance, and focused on the two dark-haired girls coming towards him, the smaller of the two rushing ahead of the taller, more subdued one. Aeduan undid his seatbelt and quickly checked that no other cars were driving by before opening the car door.

“Slow down, Cora,” he called as he walked around to the sidewalk. “It’s still icy.”

“The snow is almost all gone,” Cora huffed between pants, slowing down as she got closer to Aeduan. She was so small and the enormous backpack hanging from her shoulders looked almost comical.

“Still.” Aeduan knelt down on one knee as Cora skidded to a halt in front of him and threw herself into his arms. When she eventually pulled back, he perused her up and down. “Where’s your coat?

Cora jutted her thumb over her shoulder. “In my backpack.”

“Wouldn’t it be more useful on you?”

Cora shrugged. Lisbet came shuffling up behind her and Aeduan straightened up from the ground. She, at least, was wearing her coat.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her into his side with one arm, while his other hand became occupied with Cora’s little fingers. “How was school?”

“Good,” she said, and smiling shyly she added, “I got a 105 on my math test.” The statement wasn’t at all boastful or fishing for recognition. Even as she said it, her expression was small and subdued.

Cora gawped at Lisbet while Aeduan pulled her in closer. “How is that possible, Aedie? I thought 100 was the highest grade!”

“There was a bonus question,” Lisbet explained. “Sometimes teachers add them to give students a chance at extra points. Usually they’re harder than the rest of the test, but they can really help you out if you’ve messed up on other questions.”

Cora’s eyes widened. “And you got it right?”

“Yep,” Lisbet nodded and Cora let out another hushed Wow.

“Good work, Lis,” Aeduan congratulated, giving her shoulder an extra squeeze. Her gray eyes sparkled up at him as she gave in to a proud smile.

“Aedie,” Cora chirruped, tugging at his hand. “I wrote a book today!”

“You did?” he said, being sure to give her his full attention. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about a girl who becomes friends with a bird and he leads her on a magical quest and then they meet a troll who tries to kill them, but he’s not really a bad guy and is just really sad and then... ”

Cora was practically dancing circles around him with excitement as she prattled on and on about her story. “That sounds like quite a tale,” Aeduan finally managed to slip in when she eventually needed to take a breath. “Why don’t we read it tonight before bed? How’s that sound? But, c’mon, let’s get going. Owl’s waiting. You can tell me more about it on the way home.”

The girls nodded and handed Aeduan their backpacks to store in the trunk while they piled inside the car. Once Aeduan shut his car door and buckled up, he twisted his head over his shoulder to look at all three of his girls.

Owl sat in between Cora and Lisbet in the middle strapped into her car seat and looked utterly miserable. Her arms and legs sat limp in total defeat. Oh yes, an extra long nap was in order the second they got home.

His sisters liked Owl. There hadn’t been any misgivings on their end when he sat them down and explained to them what his hopeful plans for Owl were. He hadn’t expected anything different. He knew their hearts and knew they would accept her as a part of their family just as he had done with them 10 years ago.

Owl, on the other hand, had been less than thrilled about the two unexpected additions to her new family, and little had changed since then. It had become blatantly clear that it was not Owl who had to prove herself worthy of Cora and Lisbet’s love, but the other way around.

The girls never complained though, for which, Aeduan was grateful. Cora was sure to read to Owl her story the moment they got home (whether she was interested in hearing it or not) and Lisebt would no doubt help Aeduan make dinner and take care to do little things like chop up Owl’s food into smaller pieces and refill her sippy cup even if it wasn’t entirely empty yet.

“Everyone buckled up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Cora, who had a tendency to put her belt strap behind her back.

“Yes,” they answered in unison. Owl’s scowl deepened. His angry puffy marshmallow.

“Alright then,” Aeduan said, turning to the steering wheel and starting the car. “Let’s hear more about this story, Cora.”

* . * . * . * .

“Thanks again for doing this. You have my unending gratitude.”

Ryber Fortiza stood at Iseult’s desk on Monday afternoon, a stack of books towering between them. A week had gone by since she started working in the Children’s Room and Ryber’s books had finally arrived.

“It was no trouble at all,” Iseult told her. “I’m just glad you were able to get enough copies in time. Eridysi Goechenka is still in high demand, if you can believe it.”

“Oh I believe it,” said Ryber. “She’s one of my favorite authors. I’ve read all her works. This,” she gestured proudly to the tower of books, “is my way of plaguing my obsession onto everyone else.”

Iseult eyed the top of the stack and the silver foiled words carved into the book’s worn cover. Sisters of Sight. She picked it up fondly.

“You picked a good one. They’re all good, but this is a classic.”

Ryber’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve read it then?”

Iseult nodded. “Only a dozen times.” Ryber smiled at that, and the sight of it, all teeth and no reservation, made Iseult feel more intrepid. “I’m actually in the process of trying to collect all of her published works. It’s kind of a mini project of mine. It’s hard though. Some of her more obscure books are out of print. Things written earlier in her career before she became well-known.”

Ryber heaved a sigh of dismay. “Why do they do that?”

Iseult knew who ‘they’ were. Publishers. She shook her head solemnly. “I don’t know. It breaks my heart… Words that will never see the light of day all because publishers don’t think there’s a market for it.”

“You would think that with her death they’d want to capitalize on that. Also, awful,” Ryber added with a disgusted grimace to Iseult. Iseult nodded in agreement.

“It’s a shame. I bet she has so much more to say, even though she’s not here...” Iseult trailed off. She sighed and returned Sisters of Sight on top of the stack of books. “The director of this library told me that she has a first edition of The Raider King buried somewhere in her attic. She said she’d bring it in when she found it.”

Ryber’s eyes, more grey than blue, widened. “Seriously? That’s insane!”

“I can text you if she ever finds it.”

“Yes, please! Jeez, why on earth would she keep it packed away in an attic?” Ryber looked positively baffled by Evrane’s life decisions. “I bet it’s worth a lot of money. Not that I would ever sell it if it were mine,” she added hastily, as though reading Iseult’s mind. Even now, with her funds dwindling by the day, she’d never be able to part with such a treasure.

“I’ll let you know,” Iseult assured her as Ryber pulled the mountain of books across the desk and strategically lifted them into her arms. The tower wobbled precariously against her chest. “You’re not walking home with that, are you?” she asked cautiously as Ryber braced the top of the stack with her chin.

“Nope,” she replied with a shaky laugh and she tried to take a step without causing the books to come tumbling down. “My boyfriend is picking me up.”

“Good.” Even though Ryber looked ridiculous, Iseult’s cool expression never wavered. Safi would be rolling around on the floor by now. When Ryber was halfway to the door, she tried looking over her shoulder back at Iseult, but with a glance at the books in her arms, thought better of it.

“You’re going to come to book club, right?” she called softly so as to not disturb anyone else in the Children’s Room. “You and Safi?”

Iseult’s nose twitched and she pressed her lips together. She was glad Ryber wasn’t able to see her. “I don’t know. Safi isn’t much of a reader.”

“Oh don’t worry about that! Kullen always drags his roommate into our meetings since he lives there, and he almost always never reads the book. It’ll still be fun.”

“I- I’ll have to check my work schedule. Safi’s too.”

“Great,” Ryber said, sounding so genuinely pleased, Iseult felt terrible about the story already materializing in her head that she could use to get out it. “It’s on a Friday night, so at least there’s no classes to worry about. Unless you’re one of those weird people who elected to take a night class.”

“I’m not.” Guilt twisted into regret. Even without her made up story, she was already a liar. She’d have to tell Ryber eventually that she’d dropped out of school. If not now, then definitely before the book club. Better to come clean to one person about being a failure than to a whole room of strangers.

“Perfect.” By now Ryber had made it to the door. This time when she spoke, she managed to turn and face Iseult. The stack of books was still propped under her chin. “I forgot to ask, how’s everything going here?”

Iseult opened her mouth to answer, but just then, a figure appeared in the doorway, looming behind Ryber. Cropped dark hair, leather jacket, sparkling blue eyes.

Aeduan.

He marched around Ryber, barely giving her or the stack of books in her straining arms a second’s glance.

“Good,” Iseult somehow managed to respond after finding her breath. “Everything’s good here.”

That was about to change, judging by the dark gaze fixed on her as Aeduan stalked towards her, which was a shame because things really were going better than they had when she first started over a week ago. Her lungs contracted uncomfortably. He didn’t look happy.

Ryber seemed to understand that their conversation was over. Unable to wave or move her head, she shot Iseult a parting glance and strained smile, possibly hoping to convey something along the lines of, Good luck! Hope he doesn’t eat you for lunch!

When Aeduan reached the desk, he slapped an envelope down between them like he was throwing down a gauntlet.

“I’d like to get a library card.”

The words were as cold as his eyes. Not daring to risk stuttering in front of him, Iseult swallowed and reached for the envelope. She peeled open the slip of paper and pulled out its contents. There, in official typed writing, was an apartment lease for one Aeduan Amalej.

“Good enough?”

Iseult’s eyes slowly rolled up to meet his penetrating stare. Challenging her.

She nodded, still not trusting herself with words, folding the document with care and tucking it back into the envelope. When she held it out for him, she finally felt brave enough to speak.

“Perfect.”

Aeduan nodded sharply, though there was no sign of satisfaction in his face. A small dent still worried itself between his brow - possibly a permanent fixture on his otherwise smooth face.

Iseult gathered the necessary materials and laid them out in front of him, overly aware of him watching her, scrutinizing her every move. But her motions were fluid, poised, lending no indication to how she felt on the inside.

“I’ll need you to fill out this form with all of your up-to-date information,” Iseult explained. She was pleased, albeit surprised, with how commanding her voice sounded. “When you’re finished I’ll enter you into our database and have a card for you to sign. That’s all.”

Again, Aeduan nodded, his hard expression a slate of ice as he picked up the pen Iseult had laid out for him and got to work on filling out the form.

Iseult thought it unlikely that he’d appreciate her hovering, so she sat down at her computer and busied herself with starting his entry, all the while sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eye. When he finished, he returned it to her without saying a word. In the minutes that followed, all that spoke between them was the clicking Iseult’s keyboard.

“Almost done,” Iseult hummed, more for her own reassurance than Aeduan’s. He still watched her like a hawk. She could feel the tremble in her hands. It was a miracle she wasn’t mis-typing everything.

With his last bit of information saved, she opened a drawer next to her and grabbed a stack of library cards. She slipped one out and scanned it into the computer. “I just need you to sign here,” she pointed to the line underneath the card’s barcode “and then you’ll be all set.”

Aeduan’s eyes rested a moment too long on the spot where Iseult’s finger pointed, and with a flicker of horror, she realized her nail was still covered in the ridiculous sparkly purple nail polish Safi had insisted on trying out on her a couple nights ago when they were both bored. Well - Iseult was bored. Safi was merely bored with studying and claimed it was stifling other more imaginative and wholly worthwhile endeavors. Safi’d even tried painting on a heart, which turned out to look more like a blob than anything.

“Just like yours!” she’d joked.

The clipped way he took the card from her sparkle encrusted fingers told Iseult exactly how he felt about her “blob”. She watched him scribble his signature, and she imagined how he’d react if she offered him the congratulatory glitter pencil and chunky animal eraser that was customary with all new patrons that signed up for a library card in the Children’s Room. Better skip the bubble party too.

Aeduan straightened, extending the pen to Iseult. She took it and with a weak sort of smile said as they did to all their new patrons: “Congratulations. You are an official owner of a library card.”

Aeduan frowned at the card, his expression unreadable. Oh yeah. Definitely skip the bubble party.

Still staring at the card, he began to walk away. Iseult was about to release a breath of relief when she remembered something.

“Sir, I almost forgot.” She held up a finger asking him to wait when he turned around. She didn’t miss the flash of annoyance in his eyes as she hurried into the back office, but it really would only take a second. When she reappeared, she was holding a book with a little black cat on the cover.

“I held onto this. In case you came back,” Iseult explained, holding the picture book out to him. “I remembered your little girl wanted it and thought I’d hold onto it so no one else would check it out. I wouldn’t have wanted her to be disappointed if you came back and it wasn’t here anymore. I know it’s a Halloween book and the chances of someone checking it out in January are slim, but you’d be surprised with how often holiday books get checked out throughout the year. They-”

Stop talking stop talking STOP TALKING. Iseult clamped her mouth shut. Where was her stutter when she needed it?

Aeduan was staring down at the book, frowning just as he had with the library card. He made no move to take it. Iseult swallowed.

“I-it’s yours if you want to take it,” she tried, pressing the book forward bravely.

Slowly, Aeduan reached a hand and took it.

“Thank you…” The words trailed off, and though he had already talked to Iseult before, he sounded as though he had not spoken in years. Or perhaps it was just the words. Rough and unused. He cleared his throat, then spoke again. “That’s… that’s very kind of you.”

Iseult only watched him studying the front cover of the book. She didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t angry, that much was clear. The only thing that was clear, really.

Aeduan turned away, still considering the book. Brow furrowed like he’d never seen anything like it.

“Sir,” Iseult called after him. He twisted around and though his face was as it always was, all of its hardness was gone. He looked almost in a daze as he blinked at her. Younger, somehow. She pointed apologetically to the book in his hands. “I need to check you out. Check the book out.”

Heat rushed to Iseult’s face faster than she could correct herself. Fuck, did she really just say that?

“Oh.” Aeduan looked down at the book, then back to her again. For a third time, he walked back to the desk and handed her the book.

“Thanks.” She scanned the book, his account already open from when she set up his card, and printed a due date receipt. “You’re all set,” she said, handing the book back to him, along with the slip. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No,” Aeduan said immediately. A little bit of the usual hard edge in his voice had returned. He tucked the book under his arm and turned away, and so Iseult did the same, thinking she should probably check on the the returns bin before it overflowed. It was afternoon and the place would soon be swarming with the after school kids. However, Iseult was only halfway to it when Aeduan’s voice pinned her to the spot.

“Actually-” Iseult turned halfway and looked over her shoulder only to find Aeduan marching back to her desk with all the conviction of a soldier about to head into battle, possibly to his impending death. Her spine straightened as though she were about to do the same. It certainly felt that way.

“I could use some help. I need...” Iseult watched the muscles in Aeduan’s face tighten as he fought for the right word. “A recommendation,” he finally said, then added, “If you have the time.”

It almost sounded like he was hoping she wouldn’t have the time. His pale eyes searched her face, and once again she was drawn into their frozen depths. She licked her lips and gave a little shake of her head. “I’m not too busy to help. That’s… that’s why I’m here.”

Aeduan nodded, that perfunctory little jerk of his head that he seemed to favor over words. Iseult walked around the desk to meet him, and for some reason this was very different from where she had just been.

He towered over her about a head and a half. This close she could smell the worn leather of his jacket and… something else. Something familiar. Whatever it was made her nose wiggle and her insides squirm.

Aeduan looked at her questioningly. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and looked out over the children’s room, pretending not to notice.

“What kind of book do you think you’re looking for?” she asked, then pointing to different shelving areas explained, “We have toddler board books and picture books by the play area. Nonfiction is by the computers and study tables. Then,” she indicated the shelves lined up in the middle of the room and hugging the walls, “we have early readers, middle grade, and young adult fiction. Anything older than that and you’ll have to go upstairs.”

Aeduan said nothing, surveying the room absently like he knew all this. Iseult watched him, thinking that he would eventually say something. But he didn’t.

“What reader age are you looking for?” she prompted patiently, tucking her hands behind her back.

Aeduan opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. The pulse in his jaw ticked. If a simple question such as that had irritated the man, then he was truly beyond Iseult. His eyes narrowed along the shelves of books.

Finally, he turned to look at her. “She’s young. Doesn’t read much.” He cast out the words like a challenge. As always, Iseult, dutifully, didn’t let the coldness stir an ounce of emotion on her face.

“Then perhaps another picture book,” she said, and feeling a sense of foreboding in burdening him with another question, she asked, “What does she like?”

Aeduan’s frown returned. Thinking. “Cats.”

“Cats,” repeated Iseult slowly. Well, it was a start at least.

“And animals,” Aeduan said with sudden conviction. “More than people.”

A burgeoning smile trembled along the seam of Iseult’s lips. It sounded like she and Aeduan’s mysterious little friend had something in common.

“I think I know exactly what she might like.”

With that, Iseult led Aeduan through the low-standing maze of shelves, weaving in and out of the way of any children they crossed paths with in the aisles, all the while Aeduan followed unquestioningly behind her, nodding and listening to her suggestions as she pulled book after book from the shelves and handed each one to him. By the time they’d walked away from the last row of the Z’s, he had a generous pile stacked in his arms.

“That should keep her occupied for awhile,” Iseult commented, making conversation as Aeduan inspected the selection. She wasn’t quite sure when, but somewhere along their little excursion, his demeanor had softened. He even looked through the books with something that might have been genuine satisfaction. Incredible.

“Would you like to check out?”

“I was thinking,” Aeduan grunted, then stopped - Iseult assumed from his slightly conflicted expression - for more thinking. He began again. “She might like it if I read her a book before bed. Like a chapter book.”

“With animals?”

Aeduan shrugged. “Maybe something with magic? I don’t think she’d object to dragons.”

“Oh.” The word floated out of Iseult like a feather on the wind. She swept past Aeduan, carried by her own timid excitement to the shelves along the wall. Vaguely, she felt him following her, but as always, he didn’t ask any questions. The tips of her fingers dusted over the rows of books as she traced the letters of the alphabet to where she needed to be, and when she pulled out a thin volume, she didn’t even realize - or care - that she was smiling.

“My Father’s Dragon,” she said, feeling strangely breathless, handing it to Aeduan. He remained impassive, but, inside, Iseult bubbled with the exhilaration that only comes from wielding the power of recommending an undeniably remarkable book. “It’s about a boy who runs away to rescue a baby dragon. And,” she tapped the lion on the cover, “there are plenty of animals.”

Aeduan studied it curiously, as usual, not saying anything. Iseult ducked down to the shelf below where she found the book.

“And since we’re in the G’s,” she murmured to herself, tracing a finger along the book spines, searching for Goechenka.

“Aeduan.”

Iseult straightened and peered around the side of Aeduan. Evrane was walking towards them, adorned in ocean blue and her silver bangles jingling on her wrists. Her eyes brightened when she spotted Iseult behind Aeduan. The little girl at her feet trailing behind her, however, eyed her warily.

“Ah, good! You two have met,” said Evrane, joining them. When she spotted the books in Aeduan’s arms, she tilted her head to the side and arched an eyebrow in intrigue. “That’s quite an ambitious collection you have there.”

Aeduan responded with something that could have been a grunt or a cough - whichever it was, it wasn’t words. Not sure why she felt the need to smooth it over, Iseult swooped in.

“Aeduan asked for help picking out some titles.” She glanced over at him as confirmation only to find herself pinned under an ice-blue glare.

“Did he really?” Evrane remarked with mild astonishment. She was looking at Aeduan bemusedly, arms folded across her chest. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Aeduan, looking considerably less happy than he had before Evrane showed up, ignored her and knelt down on one knee to the child’s level, placing the books on the ground next to him. His broad shoulders were all tension, but when he reached out to her, Iseult couldn’t believe it was the same person who had all but grunted at Evrane like a neanderthal.

“Owl,” he said, the word feather light on his lips. He didn’t quite smile, but his eyes, the same eyes that had frozen Iseult to the core only seconds ago, were awash with warmth. The girl, Owl, shuffled over to him and wedged herself on the inside of his bent leg and against his chest.

She did not look at the books.

Evrane turned to Iseult and with delicate politeness said, “Would you mind checking those out? I need a moment with Aeduan.”

“Of course.” Iseult hesitated, then bent down to collect the books next to Aeduan. Their eyes met for a flicker of a heartbeat, and in that moment, Iseult was hit with that kindle of warmth meant for Owl. With sparkling clarity, she wondered what it would be like to have someone look at her that way. To not only be the source of one’s warmth, but the flame as well.

Iseult quickly pulled away, as though burned, and made her escape with the books. At the desk she began scanning them and she stacked them neatly on top of each other, one after another until there were no more left. Fixing the corner of one of the books so it was perfectly aligned with the rest of the stack, Iseult kept her head bowed low and glanced over at the pair from under her bangs.

Even while Evrane spoke, Aeduan’s attention was entirely focused on Owl. She had to be his daughter, Iseult thought. Only a parent looks at a child that way. With that innate protectiveness. Like no one else existed.

Not that she’d know. She wouldn’t exactly describe Gretchya as maternal.

Iseult considered the pile in front of her and worried about whether or not she should rejoin the pair, only to have her internal debate interrupted by Hilga’s stern but not unkind voice.

“Iseult, what are you still doing here? Your shift ended 10 minutes ago.”

Iseult glanced at the clock. 2:10. Shit. When did that happen? She’d be late for her shift at Jitters if she didn’t leave soon, which would potentially make Safi late for class. Not that she’d care. She’d probably use it as an excuse to skip class altogether.

“I was busy helping a patron.”

“Well, I can take over from here,” Hilga said, bustling around the desk. “Are these books for them?”

“Yes. I already checked them out. He’s-”

But Hilga was already shoo-ing her away and Iseult knew better than to argue. She slipped into the back office and gathered her belongings, changed into her boots for the wet walk home, and pulled on her coat, scarf, and gloves. When she came back out, she stopped short in the doorway.

Aeduan was back at the desk and Hilga was nowhere to be found.

Aeduan’s entire body froze at her appearance.

“I thought you left,” he stated after an uncomfortable moment’s pause.

“I am,” Iseult replied, then quickly amended, “Leaving. Now.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Did you get your books?”

“We’re leaving too,” he said, not answering her question.

“Oh,” she said dumbly. “Well…” And with nothing left to say or do, she walked around from behind the desk, and with a hesitant pause at Aeduan and Owl by his side, she made her way to the exit. She could feel Aeduan at her heels, following her through the shelves, until they were out of the room and were able to walk side by side, Owl toddling between them, her hand firmly grasped in Aeduan’s.

It was a mistake. That much was clear the second they stepped out of the Children’s Room. From there they were able to walk side by side, but with Owl between them, both Iseult and Aeduan had no choice but to walk at her pace, making the journey through the library a longer and more torturous experience.

The building was already quiet, but next to Aeduan, the silence was deafening. No sooner had they left the Children’s Room, Iseult found herself wishing she had made up some excuse to hang back. A forgotten book, a phone left behind, anything to avoid this uncomfortable processional. Iseult didn’t trust herself to make something up now. For all her control over her emotions, she was a terrible liar, and Aeduan didn’t seem like the type to be convinced by a clumsy attempt at bullshitting.

Or maybe he was. He seemed pretty damn oblivious to the awkwardness of the situation at hand or the fact that he could speed this trip along and spare them both of this unnecessary pain by picking Owl up and carrying her the rest of the way.

In the end, Iseult had been a fool. For she did not know the true meaning of awkward until they were outside at the bottom of the library’s stone steps. They both came to a stop when they stepped down onto the sidewalk and for a moment they eyed each other through the falling snow.

“Well, I’m this way,” Iseult initiated, motioning her head over her shoulder.

Aeduan looked over her and nodded. “Alright.”

Iseult waited for him to say something similar, to tell her they were going the other way or - Moon Mother, save her - they were headed in the same direction as her. But that assertion never came. Instead, Aeduan simply stood there staring at her as though waiting for her to leave.

So she did. Without so much as a goodbye or a wave, she jerkily pivoted away and plodded through the slush, leaving Aeduan and Owl on the steps of the library. Ice seeped into her boots, but she was already numb with her own mortification. Each bone-cold step taking her further and further away from them and the library seemed to strengthen the tangle of confusion in her head, leaving only one lone thread of thought for her to pull at.

What in Noden’s saggy left trident was that?

#the witchlands #witchlands #baeseult #iseult det midenzi #aeudan #safiya fon hasstrel #owl #ryber fortiza #aeduan x iseult #truthwitch #bookends #my fics #mine

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sithsdoinshit · 5 years

Note

Since Kylo is friends with Scout, are any of the other sith friends with some of the Mercs?

I have some other asks about specific mercs, so I’ll just combine them into one “siths interacting with their tf2 neighbors” ask :3

vader: strangely enough, he finds himself gravitating towards engie (who definitely almost shat himself when he saw vader for the first time). of course it has to do with their common interest in mechanical things, but engie’s quiet intelligence and practicality are a nice break from the maniacs that surround both of them.

sidious: he can see the demonic contract medic has with the others’ souls, its energy floating in tendrils around him. it’s a different manifestation of the force, but he knows it nonetheless. it’s part of the reason he talks so often with the good doctor, who is deeply curious about sidious’ nature in return. he also sees the magic that surrounds demo, but getting a coherent conversation out of that man is impossible.

maul: oh, he quite likes spy. the planning, the subterfuge, the skill.. it is admirable, indeed. spy could do without the cigarettes burning his lungs, though. and some combat training. perhaps... spy could be... his apprentice? (”brother, i think he’s alright on his own” “no no, savage, don’t you see how glorious he could be with the right master?? i m u s t”)

savage: as mentioned before, he’s made friends with heavy. they just connect so perfectly on the whole “team mother” vibe and like to talk about their family and loved ones. oh, and contests of strength against each other, of course. (”da. can lift 400 lbs without Force to help.” “i’d like to challenge you on that..”)

asajj: ugh, talk about a testosterone fest. spy is alright (he’d be even better if he didn’t try to seduce her), and sniper is surprisingly decent company--except... except for.. the jars. she doesn’t really befriend the mercs as much as watch them make fools of themselves. pauling’s alright, too, but needs to kriffing relax a bit. pyro is adorable, in the same way nihilus is.

dooku: spy and medic are good associates, though the latter is definitely unhinged beyond hope. it brings him great pleasure to talk in length about sith and jedi history with them and they love to hear about it--very much a good stroke to his pride. he also senses the intelligence heavy hides, though the russian giant has no interest in listening to a “suspicious, sneaky old man” like dooku.

kylo: besides scout, kylo genuinely enjoys what he can get out of demo. he has surprising wisdom, unbelievable stories to tell, and a smile that is contagious. and the way he talks about his mother.. well. it’s easy for kylo to open up to him. and demo is glad to offer advice, no matter how unwanted.

nihilus: pyro... pyro is so much like nihilus he has to believe it’s the force at work. he feels the turbulence in their soul, that otherness that they have embraced out of necessity. the two immediately gravitate towards each other and talk in hushed conversation about this and that. nobody knows how they understand each other.

grievous: soldier is... interesting. he’s sure there is something behind those layers of madness. at least he’s very enthusiastic about his cause? what that cause is, he has no idea---the general is determined to figure it out, someday. besides soldier, grievous gets along well with heavy. such power!

inquisitor: he didn’t expect to spend quite a lot of time talking with the australian of all people (snipers are so cowardly), but he has to admit... there is something alluring about the man. all of the mercs are interesting to quizzy in their own way, to be honest. pyro in particular is a mystery he wishes to figure out.

lana: obviously makes an immediate connection with pauling. stars above, she never thought someone from a totally different universe could get her, but somehow it happened. but someone she never expected to befriend was the strange sniper man. there’s just something nice and down-to-earth about him compared to the others, and he’s always so courteous to her.

#oh no...i'm shipping... sith with the mercs now #we goin way past crackships now #tf2 #sith #darth vader #darth sidious #darth maul #savage opress #asajj ventress #dooku #kylo #darth nihilus #general grievous #grand inquisitor #lana beniko #anon #ask

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lifejustgotawkward · 4 years

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If anyone out there watches/reads mattress reviews (or works for a mattress store/company!) and has a good understanding of current products, let me know if you have any suggestions for a medium-ish mattress that might work for my parents, since I’m tasked with helping them find one to replace their almost two-decade-old bed. They want to buy a soft but still supportive mattress and their combined weight is probably close to 400 lbs. For reference, they’ve each tried sleeping on the Tuft & Needle Mint twin mattress in our spare room and my mom in particular really likes it, but they both definitely need something more supportive in the long run. Any ideas?

#mattress #mattresses #tuft and needle #tuft & needle #mattress firm #sleep #beds

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the-firebird69 · 8 months

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330lbs na remada 🤯💪 #shorts #academia

I sent it about 6'4 is going to be a little bit bulkier and we always say that cuz he is but he's going to look like this it's just that he'll be larger if he was this guy's height which is 5 foot 7 and he won't start getting bulkier until he's taller about 6 ft so he looks like this guy if he had long legs at 6 foot pretty much almost the same it's going to be a little stronger and he could actually do the poles with probably 400 lb and decent form and the guy doesn't believe it and so our son says I'm not really a challenge and it's the job but there are Hulks. It says that's interesting what can they do and you can watch Thanos and his face is changed but I guess his body back is not true they can do a lot of stuff it's a little bit less than the movie you can't rip the turd off but he can turn the tank over and he says oh that's kind of weird it is strange but he's like I think about 12 ft or 13 and people say 14 or 15 ft just like the statue he's massive and he's a giant but they're augmented with mutation. So he's saying it's a cute trick to say that I'm comparable but really we should be comparable in some way and he says he's saying that something about spice but doesn't know the stats so he's interested. What we say is the spice at your size if your legs are a little bigger you can probably tilt over a regular deuce with tires and that's very difficult and we've seen people do it but they're Giants okay they it was not the big show it was a giant wrestler who he tipped over a semi but the semi is half the weight of a deuce and he says that's incredible. But seriously compared to a hulk of the same size about 5 foot 7 and with the hulk is and if he's juiced he could bend this hulk could bench 4000 lb if you were juiced on the spice from the Sahara to we estimate about 2,000 to 2,500 lb and right now he says he's venting 1,000 lb which is a massive amount of weight it's extremely heavy as I could squat it if he didn't have a hernia and he has super powers and has to use them as a giant he does but as one of us he does which is different. But 2500 lb is a lot for human being but when you're spicy and you become more like what you saw Tommy f as and you look like a hawk and you would still be bench pressing 2500 lb but maxed out if you grew a foot you'd go outwards too and we think about 000 pounds 3,000 lb and you juice all day and stuff in the max do in there like that out there and you've seen them and they're hard people and they're going after the hulk and his because they don't want them to do stuff they want to make sure our son does not have kids and they are threatening it all the time he says we should probably print it's a good time

Thor Freya and we're discussing things with this bodybuilder who's very strong that's a lot of weight Schwarzenegger would be hard-pressed to do this and what he's currently is only 100 lb more but with both arms

I'm not used to being made fun of and he's saying my name is like the Ramada inn but it really is and my family used to own it and that's why and it's not funny you don't own it anymore it went to this nincompoop next door and we see it's the max we understand that they're maxing out David become humongous like he does in the movie mad Max there's a lot of them his size in the perimeter and in the bars and things in Egypt and they are honking assholes none of you would survive there you have big fresh mouths and he would because he wouldn't say anything and people know who he is and he becomes humble and he doesn't on purpose. And I've been there and bigger and like a giant in our guys and they wanted to fight all the time and we just went in and had a beer we had to leave and that's how it is and you can't go there anymore and he says well that's interesting it's a great job for Trump and I do see what you're saying it might be why they're big and today is valuable I'm related to Jason and he can come really big he said he looks like this these guys out there and they're doping with my cousins of his which are monsters and it's really weird cuz he's like one of them but he's human and I want to see it I want to see this guy lift up a bus. But seriously I think I know what the effect is and I see smaller people and it happens to them all the time and they just can't do it and it's motivational enough and I'm going to write a report because when he does acts of strength these little people go nuts and try and get bigger and it didn't really try and hurt him

Na Ramada

Interesting name it's like Ramadan and we did notice our son and daughter were thinking it and it's a holy holiday and it means a lot of stuff and he might have the name and the beginning of it says not really but it says partly and his brave and he's proud of it and he should be his people got really hurt and they're trying to do things that are real and effective and we thank him for his comments we hope your son gets a little bigger cuz your guys are just really slow motion but we have to figure out what the reaction is to the Max and be something you can include in the report and ask your father to hand it to his father to hand into his father and he said that sounds great and he appreciates it

Thor Freya

Olympus

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evolving-kalopsia · 4 years

Text

Chapter one rough

“Medic 17, you’ve code 3 traffic at 2765 N Locus Ave. 37 year-old male complaining of chest pain and anxiety. No further info.”

Drew looks across the cab of the ambulance at his partner and flashes him a grin. “That’s dinner, Junk.”

“Fucking Albert!” Junk yells, putting the rig in drive as Drew hits the lights and sirens. “He’s not due to call for at least two days. Maybe he’s actually dying, for once. Don’t you still owe dinner from Margaret’s last call?”

“Nope. I got Thai for that one.” Drew says proudly.

“Fuck. Yeah.” Junk responds, slamming the shifter into drive.

The ambulance heads out of the parking lot and Junk hits the lights and sirens. Rush hour just ended, traffic is still a bit heavy. The ambulance weaves it’s way slowly through drivers that seem to have never seen an ambulance in their rear-view mirror before.

“Fucking Albert.” Junk repeats, gesturing at the Toyota in front of them. “And this fucking guy! Don’t stop, shit-head! Move the fuck over!”

The car in front slams on it’s brakes, pulling one of the three textbook panicked driver moves: brake slam, pulling to the left or staying the course, crawling at a slow crawl.

“Asian and female.” Drew says, upping the bet, “and I get dessert, too”

“Just because your Asian female can’t drive doesn’t mean they’re all like that.” Junk says as the car finally figures out that the screaming sirens behind it aren’t going around and pulls off to the right, halfway through the crowded intersection of stopped vehicles.

As the rig kicks forward again, they both look out the passenger window, “what the fuck” expressions already loaded on their faces.

The driver waves apologetically, mouthing sorry over and over as they pass.

The ambulance screams ahead, clear roads for a few more blocks. Ten per over the limit is what they’re allowed per company policy. Apparently Junk missed that page in the handbook.

“Well that was a surprise.” Drew says, looking in the side view mirror.

“Cute little white girls ain’t exempt from bad driving” Junk admonishes.

“Very cute.” Drew corrects him.

Junk looked sideways at Drew. “That’s creepy, old man.”

“It’s only creepy if I say it first.” Drew says, putting on his best creep smile.

Junk gives him a disgusted look and says “No, it’s creepy when you have that look on your face when you say it.”

Drew feigns irritation, “It’s not a look, ok? It’s just my face, I can’t help the way I was born.”

“Exactly. Which is why everything you say is creepy.” Junk turns right onto Farley Ave. Quicker than he should, jerking the wheel back to the left to avoid a dog in the street.

Drew barely glances up from his electronic chart, already halfway finished with it. He and Junk have been partners for seven years, Drew knows that Junk is all-pro behind the wheel. Seven years of fun and blood and guts, life and death. Buffoonery and bullshit. Seven years of betting meals at the beginning of the week, based on which frequent-flyer is going to call first.

“Turn the fucking wheel, geezer!” Junk yells at the Buick ahead, the driver stopping halfway into the right lane.

“Shouldn’t assume they’re old. That’s profiling.” Drew says, chuckling.

“S’ a fucking Buick, man. Ain’t nobody under the age of sixty-five driving no Buick.” Junk says, waving out the window at nobody.

“Profiling.” Drew repeats

“Man, I am really not in the mood to smell Albert’s house today. Not at all.” Junk moans, thinking about what lies ahead;

Morbidly obese, 47 year-old diabetic, asthmatic, congestive heart failure, kidney failure, non-bathing rage-inducing EMS system-abusing Albert fucking Piffle.

As they pull up to Albert’s neighborhood, Junk kills the lights and sirens. The less people in this neighborhood that know an ambulance is sitting unguarded in the street, the better.

“Tonight’s the night. I can feel it” Junk says, pulling up in front of Albert’s trash-strewn lawn. “He ‘gon ride the lightning, we’re working him.”

“You keep saying it, and he keeps living. You’re jinxing us one way or another.” Drew grabs the computer off the dash as he gets out of the rig.

“Lock it, I’m not in the mood to go pawn-hopping on my day off.” Junk pushes his door lock down with his finger, the automatic locks long past working in this death-defying death trap of an ambulance.

They pull the gurney out, loaded with equipment they know they won’t need; Drug box, cardiac monitor, airway bag chock full of things they might use if this were a legitimate call. But it’s just Albert. He probably dropped his can of Spaghetti-O’s under the couch again. Or the TV remote is missing, stuck in a roll of back fat from the last time he managed to get moved from the couch and back under his own power. Or Albert’s just feeling extra bored and lonely. They bring the equipment even though they know they’ll be walking out of Albert’s shithole house, reeking of sweat and cat piss so bad they’ll change uniforms in the street before getting back in the rig.

They bring all that heavy, cumbersome equipment in because it’s got less chance of being ripped off in the house than out in the rig.

And the day they don’t lug all that shit in is the day they find Albert face-down in his own puke. Not so dead they can call it a night right there. They’ll find him just dead enough that they’ll have to actually work him. Roll his 400 lb carcass over and start compressions, cut his filthy clothes off and get him hooked up to the cardiac monitor, try to get at least one I.V. started, as well as call for assistance from another crew or two, just to get his ass on to the gurney in the event they actually get his ruined heart to start pumping blood again.

Junk leading the gurney, he doesn’t ring the bell or knock, doesn’t yell “EMS” into the house like he normally would. This is Albert. Junk just walks in, dragging the gurney with him as Drew pushes it from the rear, the wheels rolling across the stained carpet, a shade of some unnamable color distantly related to brown.

“Al!” Drew yells through his paper mask, donned by both of them automatically before reaching the porch. Not out of fear of catching anything, but from a lack of desire to smell the inside of Albert’s house. The masks barely do anything at all. Just enough to keep them from retching.

“Al!” He repeats, catching Junk’s quick glance back at him. It’s not like Albert to not answer.

Avoiding the piles of boxes and junk, they round the corner to the living room where they always find him; on the filthy couch surrounded by empty soda cans and chip bags and crusty food plates. Laptop opened on the snack tray, usually some Sci-Fi on the one large flat-screen tv, xbox or playstation on the other. He’d always yell “Here guys!” when they’d call for him and it would make them grin, ever since Junk compared him to Sloth from the Goonies.

Junk stops as the room enters his field of view and looks back at Drew with an unamused smirk. Albert is on the couch, Xbox controller in his hands and a brand-new set of expensive-looking headphones over his ears.

Drew stares at him for a moment, a similar smirk on his face.

“Albert!” he yells. It gets Al’s attention and he jumps, risks a glance away from the screen and then he’s back in sniper mode.

“Hey guys.” Albert mutters, focusing on the screen.

Drew walks over as Junk heads back outside, pushing the gurney and cursing the whole way. He pulls the headphones off Albert’s head and sighs loudly.

“What’s the deal, Al?” Drew asks, looming over Albert.

“I kept reading online about how much better it is if you have headphones, you know? Like to hear guys’ footsteps and stuff when they sneak up? So I ordered these, they’re really good, Drew!” Albert says, grinning like a great big man-child with too few teeth and too many comorbidities.

“No, Al,” Drew exhales “why did you call for us? Dispatch said chest pain. I don’t give two shits about your headphones or electronic addiction.”

“Oh yeah sorry. Fucker! Fucking campers.” Albert yells, distracted by Call of Duty again as his character on screen dies.

Drew steps between Al and the T.V. and for a second Al looks like he’s going to object, but Drew’s eyebrow raise squashes his momentary outrage.

“I’m sorry, Drew. I had some chest pain, but I think it was just some anxiety. The internet was out for like an hour and I was starting to lose it a little. I forgot to call back. I’m good now, though.” Albert says, simultaneously giving an apologetic look and trying to see around Drew, who shifts his weight and keeps his vision blocked.

“One of these days, I’m going to come in here and take all your controllers and leave. I’ll show you some anxiety.” Drew says, making hard eye contact for a moment.

Albert’s eyes go a little wide, unsure how serious the threat is. He fidgets and reaches down next to the couch, grabbing a fresh battery off the charger and starts changing batteries on his controller.

Seriously? That’s not even funny, man. I said sorry.” Albert apologizes almost sincerely, putting his controller down on the arm of the filthy couch.

The voice in Drew’s head is telling him to let it alone, to just get on with his shift. But he can’t. No matter how burnt out he is, he has to try every time. Even just a little “Samantha still your case worker?” he asks, knowing full well that she is.

Albert’s eyes light up at the mention of the pretty girl that comes to his house once every other month to dot the I’s and cross the T’s on his paperwork so his handout money keeps coming in.

“Oh yeah, Sam was here last week. She looked hot.” Albert grins like a lovesick child.

“Sure. Right now,” Drew says “her Grandmother is dying on the kitchen floor, just three blocks away. I could be over there helping, but I’m here babysitting you. Maybe I’ll get out of here and catch that call. Have enough time to save her. Or maybe next time you see Sam, she’s a little less bubbly because she’s mourning the death of her beloved Grammy because it took the next available crew twenty minutes to get to her.”

“Her Grandmother’s dying? Right now?” Albert asks, almost panicked.

“Jesus!” Drew yells. He grabs the controller out of Albert’s hands and gets down low, points at his face.

“Stop abusing the fucking system, Albert. I’m not coming next time, I mean it.” Drew exclaims, holding eye contact before turning away and heading towards the door.

“Come on, man! Give me back that controller! Please? I won’t call again!” Albert pleads.

“If I don’t see you for a month, I’ll bring it back.” Drew yells as the door slams behind him.

“Oh C’mon!” Albert yells to the empty house.

He sits for a moment, wondering if Drew was serious about Sam’s Grandmother. He reaches down next to the couch and grabs another controller, mumbling “Whatever, sucker. You’ll be back.”

Junk’s already changed into a fresh uniform and packed the gear back up, taking a drag off his vape and says “Did you kill him? Please tell me you killed him.”

“My name’s not diabetes.” Drew mutters, still irritated as he kicks off his boots and drops trou on the sidewalk, then pulls off his shirt and grabs his backpack from one of the outside compartments, pulls out clean clothes.

Junk takes another pull and offers it to Drew. “Want some? Helps get the smell out of your nose.”

“No” Drew refuses “ But you do look damn sexy sucking that robot dick. I see a future for you in robo-porn. You could be a pioneer.”

“You’re about to become famous, yourself.” Junk replies, motioning up the street. A group of young clowns two doors down have their phones out and are snapping pics of Drew in his skivvies.

Drew looks back at them and waves. “I’d better not see those on Ebay!” he yells, pulling his pants on.

A combination of laughs and catcalls come back, as well as “Chicken legs.”

Drew mocks surprise, turns to Junk. “Do I have chicken legs?”

Junk blows raspberry-scented vapor at him and laughs. “Yep. Chicken from neck to nuts, too. Speaking of, it’s taco time.”

Junk gets in the rig and starts it up, starts to pull away as Drew jogs to catch up and hop in before he gets left in this shitty neighborhood.

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cyberrat · 5 years

Text

22nd Batch Of Fics: 7th Fill

Gabriel/Raikou – Pokéwatch AU; electricity; forced orgasm; belly bulge – Jack and Gabriel don’t meet often on their travels but they always have steam to blow off. (Sort of part 1 of a sort-of 2-parter.)

---

For legendary Pokémon both Raikou and Entei are surprisingly silly. Whenever Gabriel and Jack meet in the backroom of a Pokécenter reserved for weary travellers, they will hop out of their Pokéballs unbidden and play with each other on the floor like they’re little puppies instead of almost 400 lbs of furious power.

Gabriel and Jack are sitting on one of the bunk beds, close enough to bump shoulders. They are too old for bunk beds; or even the travelling lifestyle of teenagers hunting for gym leader badges, but they’re also too old now to change their ways. They like not being bound to one spot for too long.

They like the sweet ache of being separated and finding together again after months apart.

They like sexting over their Pokécoms and building the tension until it explodes.

But now they are watching the two legendary beasts roll around on the floor and paw at each other while the two of them are all meek and nervous.

They’re naked. Gabriel is clutching at a big tube of lube. Their cocks are flushed and chubbed but not exactly hard yet.

“I don’t know about this,” Gabriel rasps. They watch as his Entei snuffles at the soft creme colored underbelly of Jack’s Raikou, and Gabriel slowly curls his hand around his cock, holding it and squeezing it as the pink tip of Raikou’s cock starts slipping from its sheath.

“You don’t have to… but I tell you it’s great,” Jack murmurs. He is flushing pink like a little pig right down to his pecs. Gabriel swallows hard. It is weird to be this hesitant about fucking Raikou, considering that he’s had Entei mount him more times than he cares to count.

Jack sitting next to him safe and sound is a living testament to the fact that it is possible, but still… Raikou’s cock is scary looking.

The longer Entei is sniffing between the spread hind legs of the other legendary beast, nudging its big furry yellow balls with its flat snout, the farther Raikou’s cock starts slipping out, showing off its weird lightning bolt shape.

Jack swears up and down that the sharp bends in the cock will simply smooth out when he fucks into you, but Gabriel has trouble wrapping his head around it.

He jerks when Jack’s big palm cups the glowing back of his neck. He glances to him, feeling like his head is about to explode with how hot it feels.

“It’s gonna be real good. I swear.”

Gabriel swallows hard. It’s not like he can’t say no halfway through if he doesn’t like it. He could still… suck Raikou off or something. Rim him while he lets him fuck his fist with his freaky lightning bolt dick.

He slowly nods, cock still undecided because he feels nauseous with nervousness. He presses the tube of slick into Jack’s hands. “You prepare me, okay?”

Jack grins, looking a lot more like a boy than a close to fifty balding champion.

“Sure thing.”

.o.

The legendary beasts are intelligent; very much so. Gabriel has never had a pokémon quite as keen as Entei, and seeing him sitting quietly on the floor next to Jack, his bright orange, glowing cock out and his face so goddamn solemn as he watches Gabriel getting mounted by Raikou is making him… nervous. Like he is being unfaithful to his friend somehow.

Raikou has been curiously sniffing at his slick ass, rim gaping and nervously clenching when the beast’s nose touched it, but now he seems to have come to the conclusion that Gabriel is well-prepared and worth his time.

Raikou is goddamn fucking heavy, but Gabriel is big and strong and he is used to Entei’s massive weight, so he just locks his elbows firmly and braces himself. He is panting even before anything really happens, his heart racing a mile a minute.

“Easy. You’ll like it, really,” Jack murmurs, trying to ignore the heat radiating off of Entei from his side.

Gabriel feels close to tears and then immediately stupid because holy shit this is supposed to be fun and he knows Jack loves when Raikou dicks him down until he is an incoherent mess.

There’s not much more time to overthink the whole sordid affair because Raikou’s cock is slipping in smooth and without a hitch. It is not as fat as Entei’s, at least not now, and as Gabriel waits nervously for more of it to be crammed inside him and the first weird sharp angle to be fed to his hole, he gets thoroughly distracted by the weirdest fucking sensation in his guts.

He jerks at the spark of… something, and then it happens again and again in sharp succession and he makes a soft high sound that has Jack laughing. His friend’s cheeks are a bright red now, blue eyes a bit glassy looking.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he croaks. “‘S his electricity.”

Of course it is. Of course it fucking is. Raikou is the thunder to Entei’s vulcan and Gabriel is left staring at the floor of the Pokécenter’s backroom, tongue lolling as Raikou fucks in deeper and deeper and deeper and gives off little sparking shocks that nearly have his elbows buckle and him crashing face first into a little puddle of sweat that is forming rapidly between his hands.

It doesn’t even occur to him that he must have long since hit the first sharp angle in Raikou’s cock. Just as Jack has prophesied, the Pokémon’s dick smoothes out, and Gabriel has not taken into account just how much longer that makes it.

It fucks in and in and in, spearing Gabriel on more and more of it’s slippery warm cock – not nearly as molten hot as Entei’s – until he can feel his belly bulging with all the dick stuffed into it, and the more it shoves in, the more sparks it is starting to give off.

Gabriel crashes down onto his elbows after all, mouth open, tongue lolling, a low pained sound of ecstasy coming from him as Raikou fucks him in sharp bursts that are translated directly into sparks of electricity that have Gabriel’s body jerking and convulsing irregularly.

Raikou fucks quicker than Entei; a rabbit fast jerking that just drags a few inches of his long cock through Gabriel’s intestines and makes him feel stupidly like when you drag yourself along a carpet and feel yourself starting to get charged.

His breath hitches, cock jerking and dribbling and useless between his thighs as he starts fearing when the charge will unload itself.

His voice goes high-pitched and reedy. He stares over at Jack who has been watching with his mouth softly gaping and his hand thoughtlessly jerking his cock and whatever Jack sees has to be so pathetic that he croons at him.

“Don’t be afraid. It’ll be so good.”

Gabriel is not sure at all. He is close to calling it off, panic seizing him, when suddenly the built up charge unloads and all but fries him. It zings through his body, up his spine and down his extremities and seems weirdly centered on his prostate.

He is crying out, eyes wide and unseeing as he gets all but electrocuted on Raikou’s cock, his body forced into coming, load splattering to the ground as Raikou holds him securely between his front legs and still gives it to him, fucking straight into his belly and zapping his prostate until Gabriel is howling and thinks he’ll never be able to come again.

And the whole time Jack’s voice is in his ear, rough and stupidly excited.

“You’ll get addicted to it.”

He can believe it.

#cyberratting writes stuff #gabriel/jack #reaper/soldier76 #reaper76 #r76 #pokewatch #crossover #electricity

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anewdiscipleofdiscipline · 5 years

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At last, the promised update

It’s been a wild few months.

Less happy news first: My dad continues to decline, and his state takes a great toll on everyone, physically, mentally, financially... He is like a toddler now. Even 4-5 months ago, he used to ask if we were okay, are you hurt, don’t strain yourself... now he doesn’t think about us anymore at all. Only himself, his wants, his desires... he’s not the same man at all. I told him that right out one night when he was being particularly demanding, and mean on top of that, and he gave us his classic “whatever!”.

He’s been on a new medication to treat the radio necrosis he got from radiation therapy, and his speech is a bit better... but that’s pretty much the only change I’m seeing from it. The other big issue is his climbing weight. He went from a hefty 330 to probably around 400 lbs now... that’s a big part of why his demanding to be moved all the time is so difficult. Even for me, it’s HARD and tiring. And TIME consuming. He is almost 3x my weight. He is OVER 3x my mother’s weight. And he doesn’t care how that affects us at all...

Anyway... to social stuff:

To recap, early November, a close friend of mine introduced me to a friend of hers, and we hit it off, really, really well. We’re both poly, but we’re both pretty focused on just us right now, which I’m a-okay with.

We now refer to the other person as “our partner”. She gave me a ring with her having the matching one. Mine says “DOM” and hers says “SUB”, so it signifies the power dynamic we’ve decided to have in our relationship... but we treat each other like equals in all things, communicate openly and honestly about everything... having even difficult conversations goes smoothly because we both approach communication the same way, and have agreed on ways of handling conflict, which we legitimately use (not that we’ve had all that many conflicts, but there’s been a few small ones, and it was comforting and encouraging to see how we navigated them together.

Last month, a friend of mine from Australia who I’ve been friends with for 14 (!!!) years came to Canada and I not only got to meet her for the first time, but got to take her to a bunch of touristy places in Ontario (Niagara Falls, the Ontario Science Centre, Casa Loma, we went to the Royal Ontario Museum for New Year’s, Ripley’s Aquarium, and the CN tower.) ALSO: FUN FACT, SHE BOUGHT A GOWN AT A THRIFT STORE AND WORE IT WHILE WE WALKED THROUGH THE CASTLE AND IT WAS HILARIOUS AND AWESOME AT THE SAME TIME and now I’m one of those annoying overly excited relationship people and I suddenly hate myself -___-

Well, as it turns out, my partner had never been to a lot of those places herself... so... since the OCS (Science Centre) is very kid-oriented, I suggested I take her and her kids there, we drop the kids off at our mutual friend’s (the one who introduced us) after, and then she and I could go to all of those places together.

It was a really nice weekend. I’m not big on kids and truthfully, avoid them as much as possible, but hers were okay. I watched them both like hawks while in the OCS. I’m paranoid, so sue me.

And OH MY GOD, watching her get SO EXCITED to pet the stingrays in the aquarium.... I cannot even describe the joy she was experiencing, nor mine at seeing hers. She talked about how adorable the stingray plushies were, so when she wasn’t looking, I snaked one over to the counter and bought it for her, and she glowed when I gave it to her.

And man, the SEX is really good. I don’t dissociate, I only get some PTSD issues rarely, and it happens barely ever compared to when I started seeing her, she’s EXTREMELY pleased and reactive with me. She calls my dong things like “the impossible dick” or “magic”, etc. I also keep trying to push back on the size issue, because from my view, it doesn’t look as enormous as she tries to tell me it is, but this weekend was kind of a “wake up call.” NORMALLY, I always finger/rub a LOT before any penetration ever happens... ONCE this weekend, I tried being a bit more dominant and going straight for it, and found out my policy of always attempting to give an orgasm or more before fucking was actually why I never ran into any issues. Nobody has ever had a problem with it before, guess I have an idea why now. Had to go real slow, so I let her do all the moving at first so she could moderate speed and depth as she needed.

I have also achieved what no other partner of hers has achieved in making her quit because “the orgasms became too much and all of her limbs were shaky and numb” and she was light headed from it lmfao.

Part of all this makes me feel slightly sad though. Like, there’s always the chance she’s faking or embellishing, but that’s not her way. She’s BLUNT. She revels in being honest and blunt. So I’m assuming she always telling me the truth.... and that’s what gets to me. I feel like I missed out on so much because of trauma or anxiety or depression... and given all of my experiences have been very positive when I’ve gotten feedback... I feel like i missed out on a lot of opportunity for pleasure, adventure and enjoyment. It’s not a huge thing, but it’s just a voice in the back of my head going “All of your researching, asking questions, learning, being attentive, etc has paid off... and you could have used it all at a much younger age and had so much more experience by now.”

But I’m not too-too concerned about it, because i have a partner with a voracious appetite, and a desire to help me make up for all the lost time.

I’m also fortunate in that we just enjoy spending time together. Whether it’s hours of cuddling, or just... shopping/getting groceries, I LOVE and ENJOY my time with her. We’ve talked about how people who say they’ve found the one... must be experiencing feelings like this... i told her right out... I finally get it, what those people must be feeling or thinking. If I were monogamous... she’d be my one. And she understands and feels the same.

It’s been a really good start to 2020, which admittedly makes me nervous about what may come next, especially as my dad’s time heads towards running out. It’s an inevitable conclusion. He’s not going to get better, and those tumours are just going to keep growing.

And then there’s the “whiplash”/”backlash” that’s going to occur after he’s gone. People are going to snap. Shit is going to implode, probably catastrophically.

I... just hope the parts of my life that are going well can be my shelters from the storms. I don’t need to rely on them, but I’m sure going to appreciate their comfort when I can have it.

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themerchantofdeathsdoor · 4 years

Text

Items Master Post

(( Below, you will find a full list of all the items The Merchant offers. He also accepts custom commissions if your character so desires. Anyways, make sure to keep checking back to this, as the menu will surely update with new wares down the line! This post may also hold items not normally seen on the menu seen here, as these are ALL the enchanted items that The Merchant has! ))

Cloaks and Capes:

Cloak of Fashionable Defense (50g):

“This hooded Cloak made of silk and metal fibers can change to whatever color you want it to be, and can harden to deflect most blades, arrows, and even bullets.”

Cloak of Mirrors (50g):

“This shimmering, semi-translucent cloak almost looks like it can reflect whatever is around it. The wearer gains resistance to magical effects on their person, and their perception is heightened.”

Cloak of the Thief (25g):

“This cloak is rather small, and a shade of dark brown. When the wearer wills it, the cloak will envelop the wearer in a shroud of invisibility for five minutes, or until cancelled.”

Cape of the Gargoyle (25g):

“This simple grey cloak appears unassuming. Three times per day, the wearer may assume a form like that of a gargoyle. The wearer becomes completely still, has the endurance of stone, and otherwise seems like a statue. Optional variants include other stone objects.”

Jewelry:

Amulet of Health (30g):

“This amulet is gold, with several rubies set into it. When worn, the wearer’s body becomes much hardier and more resilient. Wounds don’t bring you down as easily, and diseases are less effective. You essentially become the perfect picture of health!”

Ring of Farspeech (15g):

“These intricate loops carved of solid marble with an emerald inset will let the wearer send a brief message to anyone they know well on this plane of existence.”

Ring of Mage’s Armor (25g):

“This gold ring has amethysts set into it. When the wearer wills it, a shimmering barrier floats just an inch above their skin, temporarily providing resistance to magic during the duration.”

Bracelet of the Dancer (15g):

“This bracelet appears to be formed out of jingling, rainbow-colored beads on a thin loop of fabric. When the wearer wills it, their movement becomes smoother, more natural, and their reflexes become much faster.”

Ring of the Mute (15g):

“These rings are specially crafted for Void-users. While wearing this ring, the dark whispers shall become much more muted, allowing for greater mental focus.*”

Amulet of Spectral Warding (20g):

“This beautifully-crafted jade amulet gently deters restless spirits when worn. Great for haunted sojourns. Warning: Does not work on actively hostile spirits, or on particularly powerful ones. *Disclaimer: Void spells are significantly weaker while the ring is worn. Use Void responsibly.

Necklace of Mind Shielding (30g):

“This necklace is a metal chain, bearing a symbol of a shield on a medallion. While worn, this amulet helps protects your mind from being influenced by outside magical sources. Such effects include, but are not limited to: mind reading, emotional influencing/suggestion, mind control, and more!”

Armor and Apparel:

Spellbreaker Fullplate of Quel’Thalas(100g):

“This set of fullplate armor, designed specifically for an elite quel’dorei warrior, is amazingly protective against magic of all sorts. It resists attempts to transmute its material, mental attacks, evocation spells, necromantic effects, and so much more!”

Commander’s Fullplate (100g):

“This set of fullplate armor, designed for the charismatic in mind, is perfect for those who lead by example. It increases your strength and hardiness significantly while worn, it also shares this benefit with those around you who look to you for leadership! Amazing for the front-line leader, and any allies they may be fighting alongside.”

Survivalist’s Set (80g):

“Crafted out of ettin bone, kodo leather, and clefthoof fur, this enchanted suit of armor is everything the rugged survivalist needs to thrive anywhere from Tanaris to the Storm Peaks. Enchanted to have greater resistance to the elements, physical blows, and grant greater perception. This will keep your insides, inside, as well as protecting you from both blizzards and sandstorms.”

Gauntlets of Ogre’s Strength (25g):

“These heavy leather gauntlets with stone studded into them are ugly, but functional. The wearer’s unarmed attacks are stronger, and their attempts to push, pull, crush, throw, or lift something are stronger.”

Boots of the Marathoner (10g):

“These boots have stylized wings emblazoned on the sides of the heels. The wearer can sprint faster for longer periods of times, and recover their stamina faster.”

Belt of Knives (15g):

“This black sash has five scabbards for daggers. Once a dagger is put into a scabbard, it disappears until the wearer calls for it, for which it reappears in their hand. Each scabbard can ‘hold’ up to ten knives at a time.”

Cap of the Untraceable Scout (15g):

“This leather cap is simple, almost commoner-looking. The wearer leaves no tracks, and their steps are silent while wearing this cap.”

Shields:

Shield of Defensive Measures (25g):

“This adamantine kite shield is rather plain, except for its shininess. When held in one hand, this shield will automatically detect incoming blows and move to intercept them. This does not work for spells or magical effects.”

Shield of Dragon’s Breath (75g):

“This large shield has the visage of a terrifying dragon on the front of it. When the wielder wills it, and it has not done so recently, the dragon’s visage will come to life with a mighty roar and breathe fire in a thirty foot cone in front of it.”

Shield of Shrieking Horrors (25g):

“This metallic kite shield has a gaping skull’s maw etched into it. When the wielder wills it, and it has not done so recently, an ear splitting screech emits from the shield, bursting the eardrums and stunning most foes within fifteen feet of the wielder.”

One-Handed Weapons:

Thorium Warhammer of Hasteful Destruction (30g):

“This warhammer can be wielded in one hand, and it has blocky engravings in the head. When wielded, and it is willed, the wielder can strike three times in the space of time it normally takes to make one strike. Each of these strike does more destructive force than a normal swing does.”

Adamantine Dagger of the Hunter (30g):

“This dagger looks as if the blade was forged out of a reflective, obsidian-like metal. When it comes into contact with blood, the wielder can see where the source of that blood is at that moment by gazing into the blade’s surface. Excellent for tracking.”

Mithril Rapier of the Elegant Flame (50g):

“This elegant mithril rapier has incendiary designs etched into the hilt. When the wielder wills it, the blade grows red hot, melting flesh as well as piercing it.”

Shortsword of Flexible Hiding w/ Belt of Hiding (30g):

“This sturdy shortsword comes with a leather belt with a hidden loop around its entirety. Instead of a scabbard, the wielder can choose to activate the sword’s enchantment which lets it slide around the belt like a snake. Alternatively, in combat, the wielder can choose to activate this enchantment to hit over shields.”

Handaxe of Bleeding (15g):

“This handaxe is serrated, and looks almost malevolent. When the wielder hits someone with the handaxe’s head, the metal draws blood out of the target, making only a few strikes necessary before the target is bled dry.”

Throwing Knives of Seeking (1g each):

“These well-balanced throwing knives appear unnaturally keen and sharp. Before it is thrown, the wielder chooses a target. The knife will then correct it’s own course of flight as needed to hit that target.”

Two-Handed Weapons:

Thorium Warmaul of Crashing Thunder (50g):

“This hunk of shaped thorium on a steel handle has carvings of thunderclouds. When the wielder wills it and slams the head into the ground, a cascading wave of force rolls forth like a thunderclap. Enemies are rattled and pushed back. This ability cannot be used more than once every five minutes.”

Longsword of Reverberations (50g):

“This longsword appears unremarkable, until swung, and then it practically sings with hums of power. When it makes contact with an object, the wielder can choose, in that instant, to make the singing sword reverberate with sonic energy until the object it hits sunders like glass.”

Battleaxe of the Northern Tundras (50g):

“This two-sided axe is cold to the touch. When wielded, the wielder can choose for ice crystals to spread over the head of the axe, freezing the blood of whatever it hits.”

Ettin Cleaver (150g):

“Seven feet long and four feet wide, this thing was too massive and heavy to be called a sword. It was, indeed, a heap of raw, enchanted thorium. Normally weighing 400 lbs, it was enchanted to weigh a comparatively meager 80 lbs. When wielded, it drastically increases the wielder’s strength, their ability to sustain blows, and their speed. This is a berserker’s weapon, and it is the creator’s crowning achievement.”

Ranged Weapons and Ammo:

Starlight Longbow (50g):

“This ashen longbow strung with spider silk is suited for the ranger who seeks dangerous game. Whenever the bow is pulled back without an arrow, the bow’s magic creates an arrow of pure force to launch at an enemy. This arrow does not pierce; rather, it causes tremendous blunt force damage.”

Stalker’s Crossbow (50g):

“A simple-looking heavy crossbow, with a scope and an eye under crosshairs etched into the stock. While plain-looking, its enchantment is a boon to any hunter. When you look through the scope at a living thing, the thing’s ‘weak points’ (the spots you can shoot for instant or near-instant death) are seen as glowing to you. The longer you stare down the crossbow’s scope, the more accurate the next bolt you fire at that being will be.”*

Hand Crossbow of Poison (30g):

“This hand crossbow, fitted with a pistol grip, is made out of wood, and reinforced with Silithid chitin. When one command word is spoken, the crossbow’s primary enchantment activates, coating the loaded bolt with a deadly, fast-acting poison that causes great pain to the target. When another command word is spoken, and the crossbow’s secondary enchantment activates, instead coating the bolt with a numbing poison that drastically slows down the target’s locomotive skills, if not outright incapacitating them.”

Arrows/Bolts of Elemental Detonation (5g each):

“Each of these pieces of ammo, after being fired from their respective ranged weapon, will explode in an elemental outburst of your choosing: fire, acid, ice, lightning, or force. The burst is a ten-foot-wide radius around the first solid object it strikes.”

*Disclaimer: Does not work on undead.

Staves:

Staff of the Firelands (50g):

“This staff is not made out of wood. Rather, it is made out of molten rock and warm obsidian, yet it does not burn the wielder. Infused with reagents procured from the Firelands, a practiced caster can conjure fireballs and waves of pyroclastic power with it. Not to mention, any fire spells cast through this staff are empowered!”

Staff of the Abyssal Maw (50g):

“One half is covered in scales not unlike a great fish, with writhing tentacles at the tip. The other half is made purely of ice colder than sin, but the wearer remains unaffected. Infused with reagents procured from the Abyssal Maw, storms of sleet and whirlpools are a factor your foes will need to account for when you wield this staff.”

Staff of Deepholm (50g):

“This staff is a roughshod stick of stone, with various metals and precious gemstones sticking out of it at random angles. It’s heavier than buyer’s remorse, but for one of sufficient strength, this staff is second to none. While earth-styled spells are NOT empowered when wielding this staff, it is heavy and amplifies its kinetic output when swung at soemthing. A great gift for the monk in need of a new weapon!”

Staff of Skywall (50g):

“When holding this rod of white metal that’s lighter than air, you feel as if it’ll fly away with the wind if you don’t keep a tight hold on it. On the top of this staff is a sky-blue orb that constantly crackles with static electricity. With this staff, thunder storms and gale-force winds conjured by you will decimate your enemies. Lightning and air spells are amplified when using this staff.”

Staff of the Abjurer (30g):

“Overwhelming power is great and all, but pure offense isn’t going to protect those close to you when it comes down to it. For those situations, this staff exists. This oaken staff is simple in appearance, but invaluable when it comes to making shields, barriers, wards, and the like. Protect yourself, protect those close to you.”

Wands:

Wand of Hidden Doors (30g):

“This wand is invaluable for spelunkers of ruins. When this wand of discreet black wood is used, it floats up into the air, and points to the nearest trapdoor or hidden entrance.”

Wand of the Spider (25g):

“For bounty hunters, this wand makes your life a cinch. When this wand is used, magical spider webbing is sprayed from the tip to encapsulate the thing of your choosing. Only works within close range.”

Wand of the Twin Masks (15g):

“Want to put that frown upside down, or vice versa? For that occasion, this wand exists! Flick it to the right at someone, and it causes them to smile uncontrollably. Flick it to the left, it causes them to frown intensely.”

Wand of Grease (15g):

“This wand seems a bit slippery. Flick this wand upwards, and a spray of grease will spew forth to cover others, and making the ground VERY slippery. Warning: Do NOT bring the substance anywhere close to an open flame.”

Wand of Cleanliness (10g):

“Made a mess? Not a problem! This wand can clean up any mess of small size. It dusts up your valuable antique selection, it wipes up spilled liquids, it cleans stained clothing and armor, it even clears away rust! Warning: Does not reassemble broken objects.”

Wand of Reassembling (15g):

“Broke your favorite vase? Your wagon wheel broke down and you’re miles upon miles away from civilization? The Wand of Reassembling is here for you. Activate its magic while pointing it at the object you want fixing, and a beam of magic will leap from the tip to fix the singular break on the object you want. Warning: Does not heal people.”

Miscellaneous:

Living Chef (75g):

“Can’t cook a meal? No problem! With this set of cooking tools imbued with the knowledge of cookbooks from all over Azeroth, never go hungry again! Simply say the command word of your choice where it’s meant to cook, give it supplies of your choice, and let it go! Takes requests and adheres to allergies. Can be used on the road!”

Scribe’s Set (50g):

“This set includes an floating inkwell that never runs dry, a quill that can write in arcane scripture, a blank spellbook, and a coin that can transform into a full wooden desk and chair. Perfect for the caster on the go, or as a gift for your magic-inclined friend or apprentice!”

Mage’s Hammer (10g):

“This tiny jeweler’s hammer, when used to lightly tap an enchanted item, sends the information of what that item does directly to the mind of the user. Great for an adventurer going through their spoils!”

Gryphon’s Bridle (30g):

“This black bridle can be placed on any ground mount, from horses to nightsabers to kodos and worgs. It automatically shrinks or enlarges for a snug fit. When the rider wills it, their mount will get to fly for five minutes. Great for when things get hairy in an adventure!”

Satchel of Holding* (25g):

“An adventurer’s best friend. This satchel holds more than its simple exterior suggests, able to hold up to 500 lbs of items! Keeps your blades from rusting or growing dull while inside, and keeps your proof of kills from spoiling! A must-have for any traveler.”

Glasses of Translation (20g):

“A must-have for both bureaucrats and merchants. When worn, the following languages (when read) are translated into Common for the wearer: Draenic, Thalassian, Darnassian, Gnomish, Dwarvish, Gutterspeak, Orcish, Goblin, Zandalari, Taurahe, and even Nerubian!”

Pipe of Insight** (35g):

“An excellent tool for the student pressed for time, or for the researcher on the brink of a discovery. When any material is lit in the pipe, and then smoked for five minutes, the smoker feels great mental clarity, and their body rejuvenates as if they had a full night’s rest. The mental clarity lasts for four hours.”

Quiver of Swift Strikes (25g):

“This quiver, beautifully decorated with kaldorei etchings and made of mithril and ash wood, has two compartments. One can hold up to sixty arrows, and the other can hold up to six bows or staves!”

Goggles of Revealing (25g):

“An illusion! What are they hiding?! Now, with these stylish goggles, you know exactly what! When worn, it peels past illusions to reveal to you the truth!”

Statuette Roulette (5g each):

“Feeling lucky? Purchase a random statuette! When you’re outside, go ahead and say the command word that comes with it, and it’ll spring into a real life animal! If you’re lucky, you might win a prize-winning mount!”

Rod of Absorption (30g):

“Feeling frustrated at casters? Quick with your hands? Then this foot-long metallic rune rod is just for you! When it comes into contact with a projectile spell, the runes activate, and absorbs the spell. With a flick of the wrist, the spell is flung in that direction! Can only hold one spell at a time.”

Glove of Spellstoring (50g):

“An excellently-woven silk glove. Whenever a caster begins a spell, they can instead choose to store it inside this mana-woven glove. The spell can then be released instantly at a later date.”

Backpack of Hauling (75g):

“The Satchel of Holding’s big brother. Each compartment on this multi-faceted backpack is its own miniature satchel of holding, the smaller compartments holding up to 150 pounds for each of the eight, the medium compartments up to 700 pounds for each of the four, and the one main storage space can hold up to a whopping 2,000 pounds! Altogether, this backpack can hold up to an amazing 6,000 pounds of stuff!”

*Disclaimer: Do not put living things inside the satchel of holding. They will suffocate due to the lack of air.

**Disclaimer: The Pipe does not replace the need for actual sleep. Please do not use more than once every three days.

Spell Scrolls:

Attribute Scrolls (15g):

“Sometimes, a shaman’s blessing can be costly, or outright unavailable when you need it most. Look no further, dear customer! Our Attribute Scrolls have exactly what you need to enhance a part of yourself to see you through your current trials! Hold aloft, shout one of the following words, and that attribute of yours will be increased: Intellect, Strength, Endurance, Speed, or Spirit. Only one attribute can be raised at a time, and the effect lasts for ten minutes.”*

Armor Scroll (25g):

“Sometimes, shields and armor just don’t cut it. When you’re staring down a dragon’s breath, the last thing you want to be worrying about is if an ally can cast a barrier around you in time. Worry no longer, for our Armor Scrolls have your back. Simply hold it aloft, shout ‘Protect!’, and a very durable magic barrier forms around you for thirty seconds. Use when you feel that a lot of hurt is coming.”*

Scroll of Recall (30g):

“Sometimes, the best-laid plans still fall to ruins. When the worst has come to pass, don’t worry: Our Scrolls of Recall have your back. Before you head out on your next adventure, just hold the scroll aloft and say ‘Set’, and when you wish to return, say ‘Recall’.”* **

Scroll of Fireball (30g):

“Ever wanted to throw fire without all that need for ‘practice’ or ‘education’? Look no further! Hold this scroll aloft and unrolled, announce ‘Fireball!’, and then throw the fireball as if it were a weightless ball! Warning: Has ten-foot explosion radius. Do not cast at a location within ten feet.”*

*Disclaimer: All spell scrolls are one-use items. After they are used, they will turn to useless magic ash.

**Disclaimer: Do not ‘Set’ in a cramped area, or in a place with heavy foot traffic. Upon purchasing a Scroll of Recall, you agree to a verbal contract that you nor anyone you know will take legal action against Death’s Door for the crime of telefragging.

Potions and Oils:

Potion of Healing (10g):

“An adventurer’s back-up plan never tasted so sweet. This red liquid, when drunk, heals most of the user’s wounds! Now tastes sweet, rather than bitter! Warning: Does not regenerate limbs, eyes, or brain matter. Do NOT use on plant life.”

Potion of Mana (10g):

“A caster’s insurance plan. This blue liquid, when drunk, it restores some of the user’s magical reserves, allowing them to cast more spells! Now with half the bitterness, and half the ‘cooldown’ time!” Warning: Do not use more than one mana potion every one hour.

Potion of Speed (30g):

“Need to get somewhere in a hurry? Not a problem! Just drink this golden swirling liquid with streaks of black inside, and you’ll find yourself able to tap-dance across the battlefield! Be faster, react quicker, and think faster! Effects only last ten minutes. Warning: Do not use with drugs.

Phial of the Hero (60g):

“There may be times when your back is cornered, when you’re all out of options. For those situations, this potion exists. A tiny phial, with a liquid inside that glows all the colors of the rainbow and is an almost blinding white. When imbibed, the user’s wounds are healed and their magic is restored, with a regeneration effect for both. They become physically and magically stronger, tougher, faster, better by a very significant amount for a short time. Do not use this lightly.”

Potion of Remove Curse (20g):

“Got a cursed friend? Perhaps they put on a cursed item, and now they can’t take it off? Not to fear! Simply have your friend drink this slowly swirling green potion or put it on the cursed item in question, and the curse will be permanently removed (if on a person) or annulled long enough for the item to be removed (if on an item). Warning: Does not work on very powerful curses. Does not cure the worgen curse.”

Alchemist’s Fire (15g):

“‘I love the smell of fire in the morning’. Now, you can enjoy it too. Simply remove the metal cap over the cork stopper, shake this fiery orange potion until it fizzes, and toss! Great for dealing with plant monsters, or wild animals. The fire is sticky, but does not spread.”*

Oil of Magic Enhancement (15g):

“Blade dulling? Armor rusting? Need magic arms or armor NOW? Look no further! Simply apply an oil of magic enhancement on a suit of armor or weapon, and the oil will spread, repairing dents, cracks, erasing rust, and will turn the piece into a magic item for the next five hours!”**

*Disclaimer: Death’s Door is not responsible for the loss of limb, life, or love that Alchemist’s Fire is responsible for. Upon purchasing Alchemist’s Fire, you have made a verbal agreement that you cannot sue or otherwise bring Legal Action against Death’s Door or any affiliates.

**Disclaimer: Do not put on genitals. Seriously, don’t. You’ll get cancer if you do this.

#masterpost #enchanted items

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fitfitnessmagazine · 5 years

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Every fiber in my body was against my unsorted decision of getting a cable crossover machine for my home gym. I ended up getting my very first one. Well, this was eight years ago. Back then, I was living hand-to-mouth just barely scraping by but was such an avid fitness freak that I spent my last dime on my home workout equipment and prepping and all the sorts. So you can imagine The resistance was obvious when I decided to get my first cable weight machine. Alas! The regret was obvious too. It felt like I got an airplane without knowing how to operate it.

Long story short, the investment was a complete and utter bummer. At that point in my life, it was just pain adding to the pain. I should have listened to my natural impulse. A reformed ‘me’ would not have got these cable weight machines. Nevertheless, I learned my lesson the hard way.

For those who don’t know, there happened to be some interesting twists and turns in my life. I am no longer the hand-to-mouth object or the rat-race victim that I used to be. Lady Luck happened to smile at me, and my fibers were hyper-active to make the most of all the opportunities that were laid in my path. Fast forward to today, I am doing very well financially, mentally, and of course, physically too. Being a fitness freak that I am and the type of testing, I kept acquiring these machines for use in my commercial gym and in my home as life kept on improving and we kept reviewing and testing them. I had some terrible and some fascinating experiences.

Allow me share to some of my top cable crossover machines for home use

1. XMark Functional Trainer Cable Crossover Machine

Are you looking to build some serious muscles from the comforts of your home? The XMark Functional Trainer can attend to your needs like a boss. It’s a versatile piece of workout apparatus that’s engineered with jaw-dropping innovation and excellence to strip off the need for a gym visit. This crossover machine offers a complete range of muscle building and functional cable crossover exercises to achieve a strong, flexible, and well-toned body from home. Whether you are doing high intensity training or just wanting to improve the strength and functionality of your body this is an excellent choice!

Key Features and Benefits

200 lbs Weight Stack: Yes, that’s right. This machine comes with a 200 lbs weight stack on each side. So, you get a grand total of 400 lbs of weight stack to achieve your fitness goals. Guys, this would be a treat even for an elite bodybuilder. The weight stack is literally on par with any commercial machine in a fitness centre. So, go ahead and put your body to the test against the 200-pound weight stack.

Limitless Exercise Variations: Your training possibilities are almost infinite. The versatility that this machine has to offer is unbeatable. With interchangeable accessories and quick pulley adjustments, you should be good to do dozens and dozens of cable crossover exercises. The machine can be used to train every muscle group in the body. It’s sold in two different colors—white and black.

Free Goodies: To reboot your fitness level, the makers have included a lot of useful accessories such as the long strap handles, triceps rope, long bar, short bar, hand strap, ankle strap, leg extension, and a leg curl strap. A workout poster is also thrown in to show you a bunch of the exercises you can do. Frankly speaking, I almost flipped out when I saw these free goodies.

What Are Customers Saying?

For many customers, the XMark Functional Trainer has been their favorite piece of fitness equipment in their home gym. The product has left most users impressed with the fit and finish. Users have commented that it’s a well-manufactured piece of fitness equipment. Some users did state that it’s not cheap, but worth it.

Warranty

The heavy-duty steel frame along with the commercial grade rig and pulley system provides the product a very long life. You’ll get at least ten years out of the machine. As such, the product carries a lifetime warranty on the frame, and one-year warranty on the cables, pulleys, and other hardware. Keep in mind that the warranty is non-transferable. It’s provided only to the original purchaser of the equipment.

Dimensions

The XMark Functional Trainer weighs over 300 lbs. The assembled product stats are given below:

65” Width

43.5” Length

83” Height

Last Words

If you want to go big on strength exercises without stepping into the gym, don’t hesitate to pull the trigger on the XMark Functional Trainer. The machine can easily cater to the majority of your strength training desires. As they say, “Go big or go home.” On a personal front, I guess, I might never feel the need to eat my words for recommending a home gym equipment of this quality.

2. Fusion CST

If your focus is on home fitness, Fusion CST can help. With an unprecedented focus on strength as well as cardio training, the machine can help you stay fit from home all throughout the year. At least, that’s what the company wants us to believe. Of course, you shouldn’t accept everything that falls on your ears in today’s age and time. Therefore, let’s find out how good of a gym hack this product actually is. So, disable your smartphone notifications because we are about to get started with the review.

Key Features and Benefits

Superior Workout Options: There is literally nothing that you can’t do on this machine. The machine combines strength and cardio training to deliver a power-packed health punch like nothing else out there. Better yet, it helps one bust out great results in a short amount of time. A chest strap is also included to help a user monitor his/her heart rate to increase or decrease the workout intensity for better results.

Magnetic Resistance: The Fusion CST incorporates magnetic resistance for smooth Cable machine workouts. Compared to free weights, most users found it easy on their joints, knees, and back. Therefore, the general consensus is that anyone can train on this machine. Past users have complimented the machine for its butter-like smooth and gentle resistance.

Virtual Personal Trainer: For the sake of personal guidance and motivation, the machine comes with a tablet computer that can be placed at different heights and angles to best suit your needs. This complementary feature pushes you to give your best shot even if you were to train in the middle of an ordinary day.

Space Conscious: With a meager ‘42’ wide footprint, it’s compact enough to fit into most living rooms for practical everyday use for low-impact home training. So, without cutting your living space into half, the machine can keep you actively engaged in a healthier lifestyle for several years and beyond.

What Are Customers Saying?

Most customers have stated that the Fusion CST has positively impacted their lives. For those who train in the morning, it has given them a reason to be excited right out of bed. The personal trainer feature got people encouraged to get better and stronger. Customers also appreciated the fact that the machine is apt to offer a challenging workout in as little as 20 minutes.

Warranty:

The warranty on the parts and labor is valid for a period of one year. But, the Fusion CST frame has a lifetime warranty on it. So, you are good for life on the frame. The makers also provide a generous 30-day money back guarantee on the purchase of this home-gym equipment.

Dimensions:

The Fusion CST doesn’t leave a large footprint. The numbers are listed below for you to check.

42” wide

61” long

Last Words

Everything considered, the Fusion CST could easily be the future of home-gym equipment. It does come with a high price tag, but it has received great ratings to back the asking price. If you are a person who wants to do both strength training and cardio from home, I don’t mind pushing you to consider the Fusion CST home gym machine. For luxury shoppers, the Fusion CST is a no-brainer choice.

3. PowerLine PCCO90X Cable Crossover

The PowerLine PCCO90X Cable Crossover proves that affordable crossover machines for home use shouldn’t be out of the question for a regular hard-working family. The PowerLine machine helps you expand your daily workout program without costing you or your family a fortune. It’s well-made, handy, useful, functional, and affordable, all at the same time. So, let’s take a tour of this crossover machine to know more about it.

Key Features and Benefits

Total Body Conditioning Made Easy: The machine comes with one ankle strap and two cable handles to offer you good workout options. Moreover, the machine is smartly designed to offer a 180-degree range of motion for total body conditioning. So, it can be used to strengthen and tone every muscle group in your body.

Exercise Variety: From cable flys to lunges, hip extension, glute extension, seated cable rows, and more, the PowerLine PCCO90X Cable Crossover can support a variety of different exercises. In fact, one can also do lat pulldowns and a bunch of others by adding useful fitness accessories to the equipment. As such, the machine supports both standard as well as Olympic plates.

Smart Design: Compared to the other cable crossover machines, the frame of this machine is tall and wide on purpose. It has eight large diameters and sealed ball-bearing to facilitate a smooth and reliable workout. It comes with a top as well as bottom pulleys. Above all, the 180-degree motion provides amazing workout flexibility like nothing else out there.

What Are Customers Saying?

Judging by customer reviews, it’s easy to tell that the product is solid enough to hold a lot of weight. I can confirm this to be true because I weighed nearly 260 pounds at one point in my life. At my peak weight, I was able to train comfortably on this crossover machine without any fuss. With 20+ pages of simple sketch illustrations for assembly instructions, some users did complain about the time taken for assembly. Frankly speaking, the assembly time ran a little over two hours for me. I had my first sweat session in the process.

Warranty

The makers of PowerLine PCCO90X Cable Crossover offer a pragmatic solution to put customer’s mind at ease. They offer a lifetime warranty on the frame, and all the other parts carry a one-year warranty. So, if you uncover any problem within the warranty period, you know that the makers are there to offer you free assistance.

Dimensions

The PowerLine PCCO90X weighs 49 kg once fully assembled. The assembled product dimensions are listed below (in inches) for easy reference.

82″H

112″L

39″W

Last Words

For the low asking price, one shouldn’t be afraid to pull the trigger on this machine. It’s a well-designed piece of workout apparatus for home use. Truthfully speaking, it’s hard to beat this equipment for its price point. Any serious or intelligent fitness enthusiast, pro or novice should consider this machine without missing a heartbeat. It’s an absolute bargain for the money you pay for it.

4. Marcy Smith Cage Workout Machine Total Body Training Home Gym System

The Marcy Smith Cage Workout Machine Total Body Training Home Gym System is an ideal fit for those who are looking for a machine that allows them to do all the exercises cramped into one workout station. Believe it or not, you will be able to do more than 90% of the gym workouts from home. It lets you manage your own workouts from the comforts of your home at a reasonable price point.

Key Features and Benefits

All-in-One Station: You get lots and lots of workout options. Frankly speaking, the machine literally leaves no functions for any other machine. One can train from head to toe on this highly versatile workout station. Given the workout options, you can train purely from a functional standpoint as well. It’s multipurpose, well-built, and durable enough to fill the gym void like nothing else in the market.

Bells and Whistles: The Marcy Smith Cage Workout Machine Total Body Training Home Gym System comes with all the bells and whistles that you would expect from a high-end home gym system, but without the high-cost affiliated to it. For instance, the product comes with a bunch of useful accessories such as ankle straps, triceps rope, lat bar, chrome handle, and much more. Furthermore, there are adjustable safety stoppers and bar catches in place as a safety measure.

What Are Customers Saying?

The product arrives in 3 (heavy)boxes. It’s a beast of a machine. Past users did mention that it takes a lot of space. Given the possibilities of cable crossover exercises, the working space is optimally utilized. So, users have given the product the credit where it deserves. Most customers were also pleased with the smoothness of the machine.

Warranty

There is no warranty in place for this product. However, the makers have used aircraft grade components along with powder coated finish for longevity. The gym system is housed in a heavy-duty steel frame for the sake of durability. The lack of a warranty has not distanced customers

Dimensions

A lot of labor hours is required for assembly. The assembly information is picture based. Personally speaking, I found it helpful to have my wife on-call to hold a few things and to prevent jumbling of nuts/bolts to make my job easier. Once it was put together, it almost felt as if I performed a small magic. The finished product looked damn beautiful.

As an assembly tip, give yourself a lot of time and get a good helper too. If it helps, get three beer bottles as well. Nevertheless, once assembled, here’s are the product stats:

95″ Height

79″ Width

86″ Depth

Last Words

If you are conscious about your body or if you don’t have extra time for a gym visit, the Marcy Smith Cage Workout Machine Total Body Training Home Gym System can come to your aid. It’s easily the most complete home workout system out there today. With solid fabrication, amazing craftsmanship, and supreme versatility, this machine can offer you the best bang for your fitness bucks on any given day of the week.

5. Body-Solid Cable Cross Training Center

The Body-Solid Cable Cross Training Center helps people catch up with the home-gym tradition that’s flourishing like crazy. The fitness machine is versatile enough to encourage you to start your day with excitement when everyone else is sleeping. You can look at it as a modern-day evolution of strength and circuit training. It has something to offer to all levels of fitness enthusiasts.

Key Features and Benefits

Versatility like Nothing else: Unlike traditional cross-training machines that offer simple movement, the Body-Solid Cable Cross Training Center allows one to work both the primary and the secondary muscle groups for body-toning and to support practical lifestyle activities. Furthermore, the integrated chin-up bar, cable handles, and few other useful accessories combine value, function, and versatility like nobody’s business.

Ease of Use: Features dual independent weight stack system for dedicated resistance while performing isolateral movements. The cables and the pulleys provide smooth and consistent movement while training on them. Furthermore, the pulleys are easy to setup and use at different levels to fit the needs of every user for every exercise. For those who don’t know, it comes with two 160 lbs weight stacks in 10-pound increments.

Space Saver: It’s designed with minimal frame and depth to leave a small footprint during use. But, the sacrifice doesn’t affect the product’s usability or efficiency. As hinted before, it’s compact and versatile enough to perform a lot of pulling and pushing exercises.

What Are Customers Saying?

Most customers are of the opinion that the flexibility of the machine is excellent. They voiced a common opinion that the equipment can take a lot of abuse. Even while lifting heavy weights, the machine stays sturdy. It doesn’t wobble like other inferior equipment out there. It’s not easy to max out on most of the exercises. Customers have further stated the assembly may not be an impossible task, but it could be quite challenging for first-timers. From opening the box to getting the unit ready, most users took 4 to 6 hours to finish everything up.

Warranty

The Body-Solid comes with a lifetime warranty. Remember, Body-Solid is a well-known brand in the fitness industry. Their customer base runs in millions. Given their reputation and the generous lifetime warranty, most users don’t hesitate to give this fitness equipment a shot. I too found the final product to be quite good.

Dimensions

The advertised dimensions of the machine are given below:

42.3″ W

72.5″ L

83.8″ H.

Last Words

On the whole, the Body-Solid Cable Cross Training Center offers an unbeatable value for money in today’s fitness world. It’s billed to be good for individuals, family, and also pro-athletes looking to get strong and functionally better in life. I had no regrets purchasing this fitness apparatus.

Benefits of Cable Crossover Machines

Diversity: Yes, diversity is the name of the game over here. Cable machines allow you to break free from the old school training that might have plateaued your body from making gains. Unlike weight training equipment, these machines also make room for multi-planer movements.

Functionality: A cable crossover lets you be functional and fit. It requires you to use all your stabilizing muscles to keep your body under control. It not only provides gym-quality workout from home, but it also goes a step further and makes you functional more fit.

Safety: In a gym environment, you may not always feel safe without a spotter. These machines are well built, designed, and easy to use. So, you don’t have to worry about getting buried under a pile of weight stack because you can’t let go of the cables when you are not able to finish a rep. The weight will simply return to the stack without causing any damage.

Spoiled for Choice: Home cable machines let you do a myriad of exercises. A good one allows you to add a lot of fitness accessories to increase the scope of exercises. You could really be working every part of your body in a dynamic fashion. Even if you are gym-goer, these machines can cut back on your gym visits.

Target Weak Muscles: The exercises that you can do on these allows you to target weak muscles to bring them on par with the stronger muscles. By allowing you to do several variations of most exercises, cable machines can help you add power to your weakest muscles like nobody’s business.

Rehabilitation: Functional cable weight machines are deemed an excellent choice for rehabilitation as well. Believe it or not, it’s often prescribed by therapists to their patients to slowly develop the muscles around the injured area.

Fitness Investment: In the long run, a home cable crossover machine proves to be an inexpensive gym affair. After all, it will allow you to do most of the exercises you would ideally do in a gym. Say hello to saving a ton of gym fees money over its lifetime.

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