#i think he's just as skilled in combat as those who work under him

[nemoredraw]

Can we get a full Nemo (your oc) body drawing? And some notes about them! I’m invested in his story and his deal!!!

[TRIGGER WARNING] Violence, drugs, etc.

Of course!

Here are some reference drawings I usually use.

Fun facts about Nemo Arkham:

• Skilled in mechanics: Surprisingly, he does quite well fixing and understanding the workings of many vehicles or even gadgets.

• Firearms proficiency: Despite always carrying two pistols, he’s not very skilled with them. He prefers to play with the element of surprise in close combat. He still has a lot to learn about firearms but is quite adept with melee weapons (though explosives require less effort for him).

• Fashionable: He likes to dress well, usually in elegant suits, even in complex situations. It has become a symbol of his identity.

• Smokes anywhere: Even in tricky situations, he smokes. Let’s just say it helps him think.

• Great actor: He always likes to keep everything under control. When things slip out of his grasp, he becomes overwhelmed and desperately tries to regain control. He never does anything without a double intention, making it hard to trust him. He always seems to be playing with those around him. Nemo has excellent manipulation skills.

• Multilingual: He speaks several languages—Russian, German, Japanese, French, Spanish, and English. He is most fluent in Spanish and English. His origins are European, though the specific region is unknown.

• Empathy for children: This is the one area where he shows genuine empathy, likely because it reminds him of his childhood.

• Feminist: Despite his identity as a villain, he always defends women, viewing them not as sexual objects but as people.

• Spending habits: He doesn’t care much about spending money and is often surrounded by luxury, but only when he’s with others. In the quiet of his home, he’s content with a good bottle of whiskey and regular cigarettes.

• Solitary: He dislikes having close relationships, believing they could become a weakness others might exploit.

• Body modifications: He has a navel piercing.

• Transgender: He transitioned at a young age, and since his body hadn’t developed much yet, transitioning to male was easier for him.

• Heir turned soldier: Nemo is an heir but was raised more like a soldier or a weapon, always under his father’s yoke.

• Self-grooming: He cuts his own hair, which is why it always looks rather messy.

• Drug addiction: He’s addicted to a new drug called ASH BONE. He usually consumes it alone since (depending on the dose) it puts him in a state of chemical submission. A small dose only relaxes him.

• Goal (spoiler): Nemo’s objective is to destroy Batman and Gotham, no matter the limits he has to cross.

• Slade Wilson’s role: Slade trained him in hand-to-hand combat for a period of his life. Nemo never liked Slade. (Spoiler) When Nemo escaped his father’s grasp, he was kidnapped and tortured to break his will. Slade oversaw the torture, administering the experimental drug ASH BONE for the first time, making Nemo addicted.

• Shade the cat: As a child, Nemo adopted a black cat named Shade.

• Connection with Damian: The only member of the Batfamily he gets along with is Damian. He understands his anger and pain, so they connect perfectly, even though they maintain a lot of emotional distance. Nemo gave Damian those little star-shaped clips.

• Nicknames for Batman: Nemo ironically calls Batman “the emo who listens Deftones.” (He has many nicknames for the Batfamily: “the bats,” “winged rats,” “the emo squad,” “the darkness,” “the dark divas,” etc.)

(I could go on all day writing more random facts about Nemo, but I don’t think many people would care, haha!)

[marielschism]

Good luck with your paper. ^^

Your HCs were so much fun to read, I like how well rounded the Marquis' character is. The JW wiki says that Skarsgård came up with the idea the the Marquis came fromman empoverished background and worked himself to the top.

When I read I thought there could be so much potential in that backstory.

thank you so much, you're very kind!

so many possibilities!!!!! i need to learn more about him. i need to study him under a microscope. i need to submerge him in resin.

i'm interested in learning more about the marquis' ascent — like what the hell did he do to get to this point, at such a young age? how did it shape the dangerously arrogant marquis we all know and love today? how did a street rat become a marquis? or maybe he wasn't a street rat — maybe the gramonts are a disgraced family under the high table. maybe their seat was revoked for some ungodly reason, forcing vincent into a life of poverty, taking away the privileges he enjoyed for most of his childhood. what did he do to get his wealth back? what did he do to survive? who did he hurt? was he ever loved?

(i wish we could have seen him physically fight john — i have a feeling he's a savant with bladed weapons, and seeing bill skarsgard wield a sword would have sent me into a coma idk )

and now you got me thinking of younger vincent de gramont x childhood friend!reader. you meet him after he's lost everything.

the two of you are street rats navigating through the underworld. you're looking for a way to survive, and vincent's looking for a way to get back to his old world. the two of you end up taking increasingly difficult jobs at an incredibly young age, and the high table takes notice. the two of you get separated when the high table employs him as one of their agents. you make a living working as a freelance bounty hunter, and you don't see him again until nearly a decade later.

when the two of you meet again, vincent is an entirely different person. he is a marquis now, and you will address him as such. he has a job for you. and refusal is not an option.

[ninkaku]

dazai arcane verse........chainsaw man verse.......

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds

The GIF is not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : You recently joined the Avengers, and everyone has accepted you except for Bucky. Now, the challenge lies in proving him wrong, but can you succeed changing his mind and earn his trust? Or do you have to do more to earn it? (geez, I’m suck at this)

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

TW: SMUT, 18+, strong language, enemies-to-lovers-ish, oral (m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation (slut calling), slight choking, orgasm denial

Word Count: Around 10k (I know it's a bit long, I got carried away. Sorry) → smut is like 4k hehe

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, and it’s a smut one at that. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes or bad grammar. I hope you still enjoy the story!

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 1 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You've always been a dependable agent ever since you were young, someone who could handle the toughest missions without letting your emotions get in the way. Nick Fury spotted your potential when you were just a kid, taking you under his wing. It was his belief in you that kept you going, and it all led to the thrilling moment when he thought it was time for you to join the Avengers. After all those years of hard work, it felt like a dream come true.

Then came your first day with the team. You'd just joined, and they wanted to see how good you were in a fight. You almost beat Natasha in a really intense battle, proving to everyone that you totally belonged with the Avengers. Your determination to show your worth never wavered. But there was this one guy, Bucky Barnes, who just couldn't seem to trust you no matter what.

On your first day with the Avengers, the training room buzzed with anticipation as you faced off against Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. It was a test of your combat skills, a way to see if you had what it took to be part of Earth's mightiest heroes. The desire to become one of them, although it might sound cliché and cringey, burned within you.

The Avengers, including Nick Fury, Captain America, Iron Man, Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and Thor, watched from up above, all curious and eager to see how you'd do. Their faces showed they were rooting for you.

However, as you glanced upward to catch your breath, your eyes locked onto Bucky Barnes. He stood there, solitary and stern, arms crossed over his chest. His intense gaze bore into you, but unlike the other Avengers, his expression was far from encouraging. There was a deep skepticism in his eyes, a doubt that seemed unshakable, and it cast a shadow over your determination to prove yourself to the team.

Natasha, dressed in her familiar black outfit, gave you a serious look that made you stop staring up. When she spoke, you turned your attention to her. "Think you've got this, newbie?" she teased, a touch of amusement in her voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was your moment to prove yourself, and there was no turning back. The weight of your new Avengers uniform felt both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. "I'm ready, Natasha.", you responded with determination. You weren't going to back down now.

Natasha grinned. "We'll see about that."

The two of you circled each other, and then, without warning, Natasha lunged at you with lightning speed. Her attack was quick and precise, but you were able to block it, thanks to your training. As the two of you sparred, the crowd cheered and shouted their support. It was a battle of wits and willpower, and neither of you was willing to give up.

"You're good," Natasha admitted, her voice dripping with genuine admiration. "But let's see how you handle this." With a fluid motion, she unleashed a series of acrobatic moves, flipping and twisting through the air before landing gracefully behind you.

You spun around to face her, sweat beading on your forehead. "Impressive, but I'm not done yet."

The fight continued, and you pushed yourself to keep up with Natasha's relentless assault. Your training and instincts kicked in, and you began to hold your own. It was a back-and-forth battle, each of you landing hits and dodging the other's attacks.

But Natasha was more experienced than you, and eventually, she managed to overpower you. She had you pinned to the ground, her face inches away from yours. You struggled against her grip, but she held you firmly in place. "Had enough?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gritting your teeth, you mustered all the determination you had left. "Not a chance," you replied, refusing to admit defeat.

The crowd went wild as Natasha delivered the final blow, knocking you out. She stood there, victorious, a small smile playing on her lips acknowledging your impressive performance. "Good fight," she said, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted her hand, "Thanks, Natasha. You're incredible."

The room erupted in applause, and everyone from the observation deck descended to congratulate you. Fury, wearing a proud smile, gave you a warm hug. "Well done, Y/N. You're officially part of the team," he declared, his words filled with pride. He whispered, "I'm proud of you, Y/N," and it meant the world to you.

But amid the celebration with your new teammates, there was one person who didn't seem as thrilled. James "Bucky" Barnes, the Winter Soldier, stood in a quiet corner of the room, his expression inscrutable.

You had felt his presence throughout the entire match, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine. Bucky's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then he turned and left the room, leaving you feeling more confused than ever.

Bucky went out of his way to undermine your confidence, pushing you to the brink of quitting time and time again. His words still fresh in your mind. "I don't think you're cut out for this, kid. This isn't a game. It's a matter of life and death. You’re not ready for this."

It hurt. You didn't understand why he was so determined to bring you down. What had you done to make him dislike you so much? Despite Bucky's relentless doubts, you refused to back down. You were determined to earn his respect, just as you had with the rest of the team.

So, every day, you trained harder, pushed yourself further, and proved your worth on every mission. Your hope was that one day, Bucky would finally see you for the capable agent you truly were and put his doubts to rest once and for all.

One day, as you were making your way to the gym, the sound of voices caught your attention. It was Bucky and Steve, engaged in a hushed conversation that seemed to revolve around you. Curiosity piqued, you tried to maintain a discreet distance, keen on hearing what they were saying. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Buck, I think you're being too hard on her. She's a good fighter and she's eager to learn," Steve argued.

Bucky's skepticism remained unshaken. "I'm just trying to watch out for the team. She's a liability, not ready for this kind of responsibility."

Steve being the optimist pushed back gently, his support for you evident in his tone. "I think you're the only one who feels that way."

Bucky's voice grew firmer as he explained his perspective. "She's only here 'cause Nick Fury vouched for her. There are others who deserve this chance more. I could name a couple who'd fit better on this team than her."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, casting doubt on your worthiness. It was difficult to hear that the person you looked up to and wanted to prove yourself to was actually against you, even though Bucky's argument was valid.

You couldn't help but question if your acceptance into the Avengers was indeed solely because of Fury. You had always believed that your spot on the Avengers was earned through your skills and dedication. Bucky's doubts made you second-guess if you had truly earned your place.

"Buck, there's more to it than that," Steve replied, his voice steady. "Just be patient with her."

Unable to endure the conversation any longer, your heart felt heavy as you turned away, doing your best to conceal the hurt that washed over your face. With resolve, you changed your course and headed towards the field track, hoping a run would help clear your mind.

Later, as the sun set on the horizon, you were still out running laps. Your thoughts were racing, and your body was aching, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

"You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep pushing like that."

You jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Bucky standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

Caught off guard, you tried to put on a brave face. "I'm okay," you lied, attempting to hide the pain that was clearly etched on your face. Stopping abruptly had caused your feet to throb with discomfort.

Bucky, however, wasn't buying your façade. He narrowed his eyes, his concern deepening. "You're not. You're hurt."

In response, you shook your head stubbornly, your pride urging you to push through the pain. "I'll manage," you insisted, even though every step sent a sharp twinge through your feet.

Bucky's gaze remained sharp and unwavering. "You're not fooling anyone with that."

Deep down, you knew he was right. The pain was becoming harder to ignore, and your stubbornness could only take you so far. But in that moment, you weren't quite ready to admit defeat or show weakness, especially not to someone like Bucky.

Bucky took a step closer, his expression resolute. "Come on, we're heading inside," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I'm okay, I can-." You began to protest, but he interrupted you firmly, "Y/N, enough. This is an order. You're only making my job more difficult by trying to tough it out. Let's go, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Reluctantly, you fell silent and went along with Bucky, allowing him to guide you back to the facility. As you walked, you couldn't help but mull over his earlier words, "You're making my job harder by trying to tough it out." It left you wondering why he cared or felt responsible for you, especially when you believed he disliked you.

Once inside, Bucky seated you and fetched a glass of water. Taking a sip, you felt a wave of relief as it helped ease some of your fatigue. Then, without uttering a word, Bucky briefly stepped away, returning in less than a minute with bandages and medicine in hand.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist asking, "What's all that for?" Your eyes were drawn to the medical supplies.

"Take off your shoes and socks," Bucky directed, his tone brooking no dissent.

"I don't think I need..." You began to protest, but a quick glance at Bucky's determined face made it clear that there was no room for discussion.

Letting out a sigh, you gave in and removed your shoes and socks. What you saw shocked you: your feet were in a terrible state, bleeding and covered with painful blisters, a clear result of your overly enthusiastic run.

You heard Bucky mutter a curse under his breath as he knelt down in front of you. "Bucky, seriously, I can handle it," you tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Just stay put and let me take care of this." His voice was firm, and he got to work tending to your battered feet. Gently, he placed your feet on his lap, starting to clean the cuts on your soles. You winced slightly as the sting of the alcohol met the open wounds.

While he busied himself tending to your injuries, you found your gaze drifting to him. Bucky was undeniably handsome and hot, you couldn't help but appreciate his appearance. As your eyes met his, he suddenly looked up at you.

"Got something on your mind?" he asked, his expression as enigmatic as ever.

You blinked, realizing that you'd been staring. Heat crept into your cheeks as you stammered, "I, uh, have an issue with my shoes." You finally managed to say, though it wasn't exactly the eloquent response you'd hoped for.

Bucky, his expression unamused, retorted, "Well, that's clear." After he finished bandaging your wounds, he added, "But there's more to it than just your shoes."

"You can't be out here, pushing yourself so hard if you're going to injure yourself. This isn't a game. You must take care of yourself. You can't expect to get the full experience if you're going to hurt yourself." His words were harsh, but they were true.

"I know," you admitted with a sigh, guilt gnawing at you. "I just got caught up and lost track of time. It's not that bad."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not that bad?" He challenged you. "Then stand up. Let's see how not that bad it really is."

Your cheeks burned. You could already feel the ache in your legs and the throbbing pain in your feet. But you refused to show any weakness. Not now. Not in front of him.

"Fine." With a determined look, you pushed yourself up from the chair, wincing as you put weight on your injured soles. Your feet stung, and your muscles were sore, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Bucky couldn't help but scoff, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness and tendency to challenge him.  "You want to be part of this team, right?"

You nodded, your determination unwavering despite the discomfort. "Yeah, I do.”

"Then you need to stop being reckless and start acting like an Avenger. We can't afford to have someone on our team who's too stubborn to admit when they're injured. It's only gonna make things worse." he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "Maybe you could start by, I don't know, following orders and not talking back every chance you get."

The harshness in his words took you by surprise, but they also cut deep. Because you knew he was right.

With that he left the room, leaving you behind to wallow in shame. You knew he was right. But it hurt, especially coming from him.

Weeks later, you received the news that you'd be joining the team on your very first mission. The excitement bubbled up inside you as you geared up for the assignment. But as the mission unfolded, things took a turn for the worse.

You spotted a group of enemies heading for a crowded area and impulsively decided to engage them without waiting for the team's signal or support. Your intentions were to protect the civilians, but your recklessness got the best of you. Your impulsive move led to a chaotic firefight, and in the midst of the chaos, a civilian stumbled into the line of fire, narrowly escaping harm.

Bucky, who had been keeping an eye on you, witnessed the entire sequence of events unfold. His anger and frustration boiled over as he watched you put not only yourself but also innocent bystanders in danger.

Inside the quinjet, as the mission concluded, he couldn't contain his fury any longer. "What the fuck was that, Y/N?!" he erupted, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and regret.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Bucky snapped, his intense gaze burning into you. You couldn't bear to meet his eyes, and instead, you cast your gaze downward, your hands trembling with the weight of your mistake.

"If you're gonna keep making mistakes like that, then maybe you don't belong on this team. You could've gotten someone killed back there." His words stung, but he was right.

Natasha stepped in to defend you, "Bucky, it was an accident, and it was her first mission. Everyone makes mistake.”

Bucky didn't back down. "Yeah, and accidents can cost lives, Nat. She need to be more careful," he retorted, glaring back at you. "You can't afford to be an idiot like that out there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled, his anger getting the best of him.

Clint said, "Hey! Enough. She's done enough of a beating already, I know she can do better next time."

"There might not be a next time," Bucky grumbled.

Confusion and worry welled up inside you. 'What do you mean by that?' you wondered silently, unable to find your voice.

Bucky's frustration boiled over as he remarked, "Maybe she should think twice about putting others at risk if she can't handle it."

You turned your gaze away, determined not to let the tears fall. Tony took charge of the situation, his voice steady and reassuring. "Alright, that's enough," Tony declared firmly. "We're all on edge right now after what happened. We all know she can do better, and we'll address it later. For now, let's just concentrate on getting back home."

The rest of the ride was filled with tension, Bucky's glare never leaving you as you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Wanda noticed your discomfort and moved over to sit next to you. She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and asked gently, "How are you holding up?"

You appreciated Wanda's concern and gave her a small, grateful smile. "I'll be okay," you replied softly. "Just need some time to process everything. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Wanda patted your shoulder again, offering more comfort. "Mistakes are part of learning, especially on your first mission. Remember, the key is to learn from them and get better. Don't let Bucky's words get to you too much."

You let out a weary sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "Yeah, I know.”

The quinjet touched down on the landing pad, and a sense of relief washed over you as you realized you were finally back home. This was it. You were finally home. "We'll talk later, okay?" Wanda asked, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded appreciatively at her and quickly made your way to your room. You wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away and forget the whole thing ever happened. But the guilt and shame were too much to bear.

About a month after the incident, news of another mission started to circulate rapidly around the Avengers' headquarters. The buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions—both excitement and anxiety. This mission was your chance to redeem yourself after the missteps on your first assignment.

Determined to discuss your readiness for this new mission, you sought out Steve. As you approached his office, you noticed him engrossed in reading some files. You gently knocked on the open door.

"Hi Steve, may I come in?" you asked politely.

Steve looked up from the files and offered you a welcoming smile. He promptly closed the documents and gestured for you to enter. "Of course, come in Y/N." You stepped into his office, and he continued, "How are you doing, by the way?" Steve motioned for you to take a seat, showing genuine concern.

You settled into the chair across from him and fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find the right words. "I'm good, better than what happened last time..." You paused, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry about last time..."

Steve's warm smile remained reassuring. "Hey, Y/N, that's okay. We all make mistakes," he said with a reassuring tone, "Don't beat yourself up too much about it, okay?" His kindness and understanding were a comfort, making you feel grateful for his leadership and support.

"So, what brings you here?" Steve asked with a welcoming smile.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "I heard there's another mission in 2 days..." After a pause, you continued, "But I haven't received the assignment or briefing for it..."

Steve's friendly expression faltered, and he sighed. "Y/N, about that..." He looked genuinely conflicted. "We already have teams assigned to cover that mission. You don't need to worry about it."

Your heart sank, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was becoming increasingly clear that you were being sidelined. "Is this because of what happened on the last mission?" You finally voiced your concern, your tone a mix of frustration and hurt.

Steve must've noticed the change in your tone. "Y/N, there'll be plenty of missions, and you'll definitely join the next one, okay?"

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, masking the pain that was gnawing at you. "Ah, okay, Steve." You chuckled, though it felt forced. "That's alright, I was just curious.”

Steve smiled weakly, but you could tell he understood your disappointment. "Y/N..."

You got up from the seat, disappointment heavy in your chest. You knew this was likely Bucky's doing. "Thank you, Captain, for the information. Good luck on the mission!" With that, you turned and left the room, trying to hide your frustration and disappointment.

As everyone prepared to leave for the mission, they bid you farewell, their expressions filled with sympathy. You knew they felt sorry for leaving you behind in the tower. Watching them depart filled you with a profound sense of sadness, knowing you couldn't join them.

You returned to your room, aimlessly flipping through the channels on the TV, but nothing captured your interest. Your mind kept wandering back to the missed opportunity, and the guilt and frustration gnawed at you.

After a futile attempt at watching TV, you tried to occupy yourself with a book, but the words on the pages blurred together as your thoughts remained fixated on the mission. With a sigh, you put the book down, realizing you were too distracted to read.

Restlessly, you paced around your room, contemplating various ways to improve your skills and prove that you were a valuable member of the team. Maybe you could spend some time in the training room or review combat strategies. You knew you had to keep pushing yourself to become better.

Eventually, you settled on the idea of practicing your marksmanship in the training room. Grabbing your gear, you headed there with determination in your step, determined to make the most of your time while the team was away on the mission.

Inside the gym, you started with some intense punching and kicking exercises. It felt great to release your anger, sadness, and disappointment through physical exertion. As you pummeled the sandbag, you couldn't help but imagine it as Bucky's face, channeling your frustration and resentment into each punch and kick. You unleashed your emotions on the inanimate object, giving it your all to cope with the overwhelming mix of feelings inside you.

Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the occasional tear, but you didn't let up. You wiped away the sweat and tears from your face. "What" punch "Do" punch "I" kick "Have" punch "To" kick "Do" punch "To" punch "Prove" punch "To" punch "You" kick "That" kick "I'm" punch "Just" kick "As" kick "Good" kick "As" punch "Them" punch kick punch kick.

Why were you treated this way? What had you done to earn Bucky's disdain? How could you prove your worth to him? Frustration boiled inside you, reaching its peak as you let out a guttural scream, causing the sandbag to plummet from the force of your final blow.

Panting, you collapsed on the gym floor, you were exhausted and emotionally drained, but you felt a strange sense of relief. You clenched and unclenching your fists. You flexed your fingers and winced as the pain shot through them.

You chose to ignore the pain and you slowly got up from the gym floor. You knew you had pushed yourself too hard, but it was the only way you could vent your frustration and anger.

Limping, you made your way towards the bench where you had left your belongings. The room felt heavy with the echo of your pounding. Your trembling hand found the familiar coolness of your water bottle, and you clutched it tightly, taking a long, refreshing gulp. The cool liquid soothed your parched throat.

Just as you were catching your breath, Bucky unexpectedly strolled into the room. His presence surprised you, you hadn't expected anyone else to be there, especially not him.

His gaze, sharp and perceptive, honed in on your movements, "Still trying to prove yourself, huh?" he remarked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, his tone laced with doubt.

You met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down even in the face of his skepticism. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone, including you," you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. "I'm just making sure I'm ready for whatever comes our way. Maybe you should worry less about what I'm doing and more about why you're not on the mission with the rest of the team."

Bucky's expression remained inscrutable, his indifference a stark contrast to your determination. He nonchalantly shrugged, an aloof response to your pointed words.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, your frustration with him boiling over. "Whatever, Barnes. Keep your doubts to yourself."

You began packing up your belongings, a clear signal that you were ready to depart from his presence. You suspected he was still watching you, his intense gaze never wavering, but you wanted nothing more than to distance yourself from him. It felt like he was deliberately keeping you from the mission, and the resentment simmered within you.

After finishing packing, you headed towards the exit, but Bucky halted you by grabbing your hand. You turned around, irritation clear in your eyes. "What do you want, Barnes?" you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. “What the hell? Let me go!”

Ignoring your protest, he led you back to the training area, placing you in front of him. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach. Did he intend to spar with you? The uncertainty hung heavily in the air, making the atmosphere tense.

You stood your ground, your nervousness growing with every passing second. "What? Scared?" Bucky teased, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, refusing to let his taunts unnerve you. You managed a fake smile and replied, "Of you? No. Why would I be?" Determined not to show any fear.

Bucky's smirk widened as he said, "Well, you should be." He locked eyes with you and asked, "Ready?" The challenge in his tone was clear.

You took another deep breath, squared your shoulders, and met his gaze head-on. "Alright, Bucky. I'm game. What's the plan?" Your voice remained steady, even as your nerves continued to buzz beneath the surface.

Bucky's lips curved into a smirk. He motioned towards the training mats, his movements smooth and practiced. "Just try to land a hit on me."

Without a moment's warning, he lunged at you, his attack swift and precise. You barely managed to block it in time, the impact sending a jolt through your arms.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you felt a sting to your pride. "Just one hit?" you questioned, a mixture of disbelief and defiance in your voice. Did he genuinely doubt your abilities? Determination flared in your eyes as you prepared to prove him wrong.

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't get ahead of yourself, doll. Come on, you're starting to bore me." You gritted your teeth and launched into your counterattack.

The atmosphere in the training room grew tense as you continued your attempts to land a hit on Bucky. Each time you launched an attack, he seemed to anticipate your every move, effortlessly blocking your punches and kicks. It was as if he had an innate ability to read your intentions, and it left you feeling frustrated and somewhat helpless.

With each failed attempt, Bucky's smirk grew wider, and he let out a low chuckle. "Come on, Y/N," he taunted, his tone dripping with playful mockery. "You've got to do better than that if you want to stand a chance."

His words stung, and they fueled your determination. You were well aware that Bucky was pushing your buttons, trying to rile you up, but you refused to let it show. You had a point to prove, not only to him but to yourself as well.

You decided to take another shot, launching into a new round of attacks, hoping to catch Bucky off guard. But just like before, he expertly caught your wrist each time, preventing your strikes from connecting. Frustration gnawed at you, and you let out an audible groan each time he effortlessly pinned your arms behind your back and pushed you back.

Bucky didn't hold back with his taunts either. "Is that the best you've got, doll?" he prodded, his gaze locked onto yours. "I've seen other recruits do better. What happened to all those praises they were singing about you?"

Taking a deep breath, you tried to surprise him with a sudden kick, but Bucky saw through your move. He even managed to catch your legs mid-kick, causing you to lose your balance and tumble to the ground.

His voice dripped with mock disappointment as he quipped, "Doll, I expected better than that. That was just plain bad."

You took a deep breath, frustration fueling your determination. This time, you decided to go all out. You lunged at him with full force, no holding back, hoping to land a solid hit. His dodge and blocks were frustratingly precise, but you didn't give in.

Finally, you managed to back him into a wall, and you saw an opening. You went for a powerful kick, but he swiftly caught your leg, pulling it towards him. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, your front pressed firmly against the hard surface.

"Doll, nice try," Bucky said, his tone edged with approval, "but you've still got long ways to go."

You groaned as he pinned you to the wall, frustrated since you couldn't beat him. "Fuck!"

He chuckled lowly, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his face mere inches from yours. "Language, sweetheart."

The feeling of his body pressed against yours sent tingles down your spine, and you tried to keep your breathing under control, your cheeks flushing.

Bucky seemed to notice your blush and couldn't resist a teasing remark. He leaned in even closer, his voice dripping with playful mischief. “What's the matter, doll? Is it too hot in here?" he teased, pressing himself closer to you.

Your blush deepened as he teased you, and you turned your head away from him, not able to meet his gaze. "You know what? You're seriously annoying."

Bucky's smile only grew wider, and he didn't let up. "Aw, come on, doll. Getting all worked up because you can't keep up?" he goaded, his warm breath tickling your neck. His face was even closer now, his eyes dark with a look you'd never seen before.

You huffed in exasperation, determined not to let his teasing get the best of you. "I can keep up just fine, thank you very much," you shot back, your competitive spirit coming to the forefront.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Well then," he challenged, his tone inviting. "Prove it. Try to break free from my hold."

Your breath caught in your throat at the suggestion, a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. "Okay," you agreed, your tone confident. You decided to take Bucky's challenge head-on.

With a swift and calculated move, you attempted to break free from his hold, using all the skills you had acquired during your training with the Avengers. Bucky, ever the skilled fighter, didn't make it easy, but you were determined not to give in.

You tried and tried, but you couldn't seem to break free from his strong hold. You were both sweating, the effort causing the air around you to grow thicker and heavier. You could feel his chest pressed against your body, muscles flexing as he maintained the firm grip he had on you.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you were both breathing heavily, neither of you willing to give in. In that moment, with your bodies pressed together and the heat between you almost unbearable, something changed. You felt his hold on you loosen slightly, and you took the opportunity to spin around, pinning him to the wall.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. His eyes, filled with desire, locked onto yours, and the tension between you seemed to reach a boiling point.

You couldn't help but smirk as you managed to gain the upper hand, "Huh, I wi-" But before you could finish, he swiftly turned the tables, pinning you back against the wall.

He chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Not quite, doll." He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, his voice low.

You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his arm pressing against your skin. "You were saying?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension between you reach a fever pitch. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your frustration bubbled up, and you couldn't help but shake your head in response. "That's not fair!" you protested, your voice tinged with exasperation. "I managed to break free from your hold. Doesn't that count for something?"

He chuckled, "Not it doesn't. You've still got a lot to learn. I could've easily gotten the upper hand on you again. The moment you let your guard down is the moment you lose the fight."

You clenched your jaw and stared into his blue eyes, not backing down from his challenge. "Okay enough with the taunting. I'm not afraid of you, Barnes."

His lips were so close, you could feel his breath against your skin. "You should be, doll," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

A moment passed between the two of you, and then, as if a dam had broken, he kissed you hard, it made you surprised, you gasped on his mouth and felt his tongue exploring you.

Your heart was pounding, the excitement building as you kissed him back. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you grew.

"God, Y/N," he groaned against your mouth. His metal hand reached for your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pressed you harder against the wall, his hips grinding against yours. You moaned at the friction, feeling your body responding to his touch.

The training room was forgotten as the two of you gave in to your desires, the heat between you driving you both wild. You knew it was a bad idea, but in that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was the pleasure, the heat, the intensity of it all.

"Bucky..." You panted, feeling his lips and teeth exploring your neck, his tongue licking you, tasting you.

The sound of his name on your lips sent him over the edge, and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hands found their way under your yoga pants, gripping your ass. He bit down on your lip, drawing a small moan from you. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

"Fuck, doll. You like this? Me fucking you against the wall?" he groaned against your mouth.

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words. “Tell me, do you want more?"

"Yes," you breathed, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me," he ordered, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you, Bucky…. please."

"Beg for it," he growled, his hands moving to the front of your yoga pants. He tugged them down, the cold air hitting your wet core, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, doll," he muttered, his fingers slipping into your panties, finding your wetness. "So fucking wet for me.” His fingers slid inside you, making you gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Is this what you want, doll?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your hands grasping at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. "Please," you moaned, your hips bucking against his.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, making you writhe and moan beneath him. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your breast. He groped you hard, squeezing and massaging you through your sports bra.

"Put your hands up," he commanded, pulling his fingers out of you. You complied, your hands reaching above your head. He pulled up your bra, exposing your breasts to him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You moaned, your hips bucking against him as he sucked and nibbled on your breasts.

"So responsive," he chuckled, his hand reaching between your legs once again, his fingers dipping into your wetness. "Such a wet little girl. You're dripping for me."

"You like this?" He growled, his fingers rubbing your clit, his thumb sliding up and down your slick folds. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me were you already wet when we started sparring? Did you want me to pin you against the wall? To fuck you hard?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure was too much. You were teetering on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. "Please, Bucky..." you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand, desperately seeking release.

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, right here, in the training room, where anyone could walk in and see us?"

He was right, you didn't even think of that possibility. You shook your head, "No.. of course not... it's just the heat of the moment... It's just... we're alone right now."

"You sure about that, doll? Cause I'm pretty sure I heard someone walk by a few minutes ago. What if it was Clint? Or worse, what if it was Fury? I bet he would love to see this. His little protégé, getting fucked by the Winter Soldier."

You froze, your eyes wide.

"You know what?" He chuckled, "Let's put on a show for them. Let them watch. Let them see how you beg and scream for me."

“Cat’s got your tongue doll? Where are all the firey comebacks now? Nothing to say?” Your mind was in a state of shock. You tried to think, who was it? But Bucky was stroking you at a relentless pace, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.  

"You want me to make you cum, doll? To make you scream my name?"

"Yes," you panted, you didn’t care anymore, all you wanted was release. Your body trembling as he drove you closer to the edge.

He reached up, gripping your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've wanted to fuck your attitude out of you ever since you came to the compound, doll,” he said, his voice husky with lust. "Watching you fight, all that fire, all that passion, it makes me so fucking hard. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to take you right here, to show you who's in control."

You couldn't take it anymore, the pleasure building, "I'm so close... Bucky," you moaned. You were so close, and he was taking you to new heights. You couldn't stop yourself, you could feel yourself losing control.

"Yeah I can tell, you're tightening around my fingers. Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Beg for it, and maybe I'll let you," he teased, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, sending you over the edge.

"Please, Bucky..." you cried, your hips bucking against his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined in frustration. "What the hell, Barnes?”

"Now, now," he tsked, his fingers trailing down your stomach, and stopping at your hip. "You don't get to come until I say so, doll," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

"But, please, I'm so close," you begged, the frustration almost unbearable.

"I know, but you need to learn who's in charge, and it's not you," he said, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, making you moan. "You have to obey my orders, Y/N."

"What the fuck, Barnes!" You screamed at him feeling angry at how he toyed with you. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He grabbed your hair and pulled it down making you winched in pain, "What did you fucking say to me?" He grabbed it harder when you didn’t answer him.

"Ouch." You winced in pain.

Bucky's eyes darkened and he tightened his grip. “First, you need to watch that mouth of yours." He was breathing heavily, his voice rough and commanding. "Or I'm going to shove my dick in it and put you in your place." he warned, his hand moving to grip your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

You gulped down at his threat. There was no mistaking the promise in his voice, but your pussy clenched at the thought of taking him into your mouth.  

"Second," he continued, his grip loosening slightly. "You need to learn that you don't get to question my orders, doll. You're going to be a good girl and listen."

You stared at him, unable to speak. He was serious.

"Answer me Y/N or I will leave you here, frustrated and wanting more," He threatened.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, his dominance and authority turning you on even more.

"Yes please, I'll obey," you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"Good girl, that’s more like it," he murmured, his metal hand coming up to caress your cheek. Bucky leaned closer and kissed your lips, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. He was sucking on your tongue and nibbling on your lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of your mouth. He kissed your cheek and moved down to your neck.

"Now, where are we?" He asked, his fingers back on your clit, rubbing in slow, agonizing circles. He was torturing you, teasing you.

He smiled wickedly, his hand moving from your clit and slipping inside you. He pushed two fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

You wanted to scream and yell at him, but you were unable to speak, the pleasure and the need for release overwhelming. You were panting and moaning, your eyes closed shut as you were trying not to come.

"Not yet." he growled. He pushed a third fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

"Beg," he commanded, his voice firm.

"Please, please, please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Louder," he ordered.

"Please!" you whimpered, the desire and need taking over. "Please, Bucky, fuck my pussy and let me come," you begged. You felt your inside tightening, you need to come right now.

Bucky leaned closer and kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, exploring every inch. He moaned into your mouth, his fingers still pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit. "No," he said, and your eyes snapped open, meeting his blue ones. He smirked, seeing that you were close. "If you come before I tell you, I will punish you, doll."

Your eyes widened and your whole body shook with fear.

"Do you understand?" He asked, his fingers slowly pumping inside you.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

He chuckled, "You're a needy little slut, aren't you? You'd beg for my cock too, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," you moaned, the word falling from your lips without a second thought. "Please, Bucky, I need to come. I need your cock inside me, fucking me hard and fast," you begged, the words tumbling from your lips.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers picking up their pace. "You're gonna cum for me now, doll. You're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then, when you've recovered, you're gonna get on your knees and suck my cock. And when I'm ready, I'm gonna fuck you, and I'm gonna make you scream my name."

You moaned loudly as his fingers brought you closer to the edge, his words sending a thrill through you.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, doll? Having my cock buried deep inside you, fucking you senseless?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you panted, the pleasure building. He added another finger and curled them inside you, hitting your g-spot, and you gasped.

"That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me. Let me hear you."

"I... I'm gonna..." you moaned, the pleasure building in your body. You couldn't hold back any longer, the pleasure overwhelming you,

"Come now!," he ordered his fingers working even faster, and suddenly, you exploded.

"BUCKY!" You screamed, your body shaking violently as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body was trembling, and your juices were flowing freely down his fingers

"Such a good girl," he praised, his fingers slowing, drawing out the last of your orgasm, licking them clean. “Delicious," he murmured.

You panted, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. He lowered you to the floor, your legs shaky from the intense pleasure.

Bucky chuckled, seeing the confusion on your face. "Don't worry, doll," he said, leaning down and kissing you. "We're just getting started."

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

Your knees trembled and you looked up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You did as you were told, dropping to your knees. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, and you obeyed. "Suck my cock." His voice firm and authoritative

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him slowly unzip his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. The serum must did something to him, as his member was definitely bigger than any man you'd seen before.

"Now," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Don't be shy," he coaxed, his eyes dark with lust.

You slowly reached up and grasped his thick shaft in your hand, feeling the hot, smooth skin, marveling at the size of him. You felt a jolt of excitement run through your body as you stroked his length, feeling him twitch in your hand. You could feel yourself growing wet as you continued to stroke his cock, his member growing even harder under your touch.

His fingers tangling in your hair  "Now, put my cock in your pretty mouth, doll," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You lowered your head and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You licked the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum. He groaned, his hips bucking as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

You hummed around him, the vibration making him moan. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots as you worked your mouth up and down his shaft, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a surge of pleasure run through your body as you sucked his cock, loving the taste and feel of him in your mouth. You could feel his grip tightening on your hair as you continued to suck him, your tongue dancing along his length.

You didn't have any practice beforehand, but you are naturally gifted hearing praises, such as "Mmm, that's it.”, "Just like that.", “Fuck, you are good.” and the way his thighs trembled beside your ears were a tell-tale sign that you were doing great.

"You look so good like this," he moaned, his hand holding onto the back of your head, guiding your mouth over his cock. "I've imagined you sucking me off before."

His words made you moan around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

"You're taking my cock so well, like you were made for it."

You whimpered around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat once again. The feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him, and the way he praised you were pushing you closer to the edge.

"God, your mouth feels so fucking good," he moaned, his hips thrusting as he fucked your mouth. "Such a good little slut, aren't you, doll?"

You felt your pussy clench at his words, your arousal growing with every stroke of his cock. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper into your mouth, loving the sounds of his moans.

His fingers tugged at your hair, the pain and pleasure mixing together to send another rush of pleasure through your body. You moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, causing him to thrust deeper into your mouth.

You whimpered, your eyes watering as he pounded into your mouth. You could barely breathe, his thick cock stretching your throat as he fucked your mouth. Your pussy throbbed, your arousal coating your thighs as he mouth-fucked you.

"Oh yeah, you love this, don't you?" He groaned. "You love choking on my cock." As he thrust his cock into your mouth, his hands travelled to your breast, squeezing them hard, making you moan.

He groaned as you continued to suck, his grip on your hair tightening, the pain sending another wave of pleasure through your body. He was fucking your mouth ruthless, the wet slurping sounds were the only sound in the room. And the sounds he was making was almost enough to make you cum.

It became harder to breath with each stroke of his cock meeting the back of your throat, tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

He looked down at you, the sight of your mouth around his cock was almost enough to make him cum. He pulled out of your mouth with a loud pop, leaving you gasping for breath and tears running down your face.

"Look at you, what a mess you are," he smirked, his eyes raking over your body. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

You felt your face flush, his words making your pussy ache with need. You whimpered, the need to be filled by his cock becoming unbearable.

"Do you want me to fuck you, doll? Do you want me to fuck you so hard, you can't walk tomorrow?"

You moaned, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, please," you begged, your voice hoarse. "Please, fuck me, Bucky." You couldn’t think straight, you had no filter, you were just saying whatever came to mind.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. "Say it," he growled, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"Please, Bucky," you said, your voice pleading.

"Try better than that," he said, his voice firm.

"Please fuck me, Sergeant," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "Please fuck me hard and fast until I can't walk. Please use me however you want."

He smiled wickedly. "Your words, not mine. Be careful for what you wish for, doll."

He shoved you onto the floor, his body looming over you. "On the floor. On all fours now," he ordered, his voice stern and commanding.

You scrambled to comply, getting onto your hands and knees. Your heart racing as he positioned himself behind you.

"Spread your legs," he said, and you complied.

He knelt behind you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing your skin. You could feel his hands on your hips, his cock rubbing against your wetness.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, Y/N?" He whispered, his voice low and husky.

You stayed quiet waiting for him. "I'm gonna make you scream and beg for me, I'm gonna make you forget everything, except my name."

His words sent a shiver through your body, his tone full of dominance and power.

"And when I'm done with you, you'll never forget me, Y/N. You'll always remember me, remember the way I made you feel."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your entrance, teasing you, tormenting you. His hands running over your ass. "But I'm not gonna go easy on you. You understand?"

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said, and with that, he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body quivering as he stretched you. "Such a tight little cunt," he groaned, his hips snapping against you, his cock buried deep inside of you. "So fucking perfect."

You cried out, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He started to move, his pace slow and steady, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

"Oh god," you moaned, your voice echoing in the room.

"You like that, Y/N?" As he slammed his cock into you, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, the sensation driving you wild.

"That's right, doll, take my cock," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Take all of it." He was rough, his pace fast and unforgiving, his cock filling you to the brim with every thrust. You cried out, the pleasure and pain mingling into a sweet symphony.

You moaned, your body shaking as he fucked you. He was pounding into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in a haze of lust and desire. "Who's pussy is this?," He asked.

"It's yours," you gasped, your body trembling.

"Say it again," he commanded, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

"It's yours," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Fucking right it is," he growled, his voice low and husky.

He was pounding into you, his pace relentless. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air.

He yanked your hair, forcing your head back and you whimpered. He kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, making you moan.

"Who's a dirty little slut?" He demanded, his hips slapping against yours.

"Me," you gasped, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm a dirty little slut, Bucky."

"That's right," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You're my dirty little slut, and I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You’re fucking mine."

Your body trembled, your muscles tensing as his cock slammed into you. You could feel the pleasure building, the pressure mounting inside of you. You were so close, and you needed him to finish you off. "Oh god, I’m so close," you begged, your voice desperate and needy.

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You'll cum when I say so, and not a moment before."

"Please," you begged, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "Please let me cum, Bucky."

"Soon, doll," he promised, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Very soon." He knew you almost came and he decided to torture you further when his fingers finding your clit and he pressed down hard.

You cried out, the pleasure and pain becoming too much. "Oh god," you whimpered, your body trembling. "Please, I can't take it."

He slammed his cock into you, his balls slapping against your clit. "Yes, you can," he growled. "And you will."

You whimpered, the pressure inside of you reaching a breaking point. "Bucky, please please please," you begged, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

"Now," he commanded, his voice harsh and commanding. "Cum for me, doll."

You cried out, the pleasure exploding throughout your body. Your walls clenched around his cock, your muscles spasming. Your mind went blank, the world around you fading away. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hips snapping against you, his cock pounding into you.

You were exhausted, your body drained of energy. He continued to fuck you, his pace slowing slightly.

He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "Such a good little slut," he growled, his hips slamming against yours. "Taking my cock so well."

"Bucky," you moaned, the pleasure building once again. "Please, I can't take anymore."

"Yes, you can," he said, his voice low and husky. He slapped your ass again, harder this time. "You're going to cum for me again, doll."

"No," you protested weakly, your body trembling with exhaustion.

“Yes," he growled, his thrusts becoming more intense. "You will." His metal hand sliding up your stomach, between your breasts, and around your throat.

Your body arched, pushing your hips further onto his cock. The sound of his ragged breaths mixed with yours as you both raced towards your climaxes. "I'm close, Y/N. So fucking close."

His hands pinched your nipples, sending another shock of pleasure through your body. He sucked on them, the sensation almost too much for you. You whimpered, his lips capturing yours again. Your tongues swirled around each other, tasting, devouring.

His cock slid in and out of you, his pace quickening. His moans and growls echoed around you as his orgasm neared. He was so close. So was you.

"Please, Bucky," you begged, your pussy clenching around his length.

He tightened his grip on your throat and slammed his hips into yours. His free hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles over it. His eyes meeting yours. his hips slapping against yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Cum with me, doll. Don't close your eyes. I want to see those pretty eyes as you come apart."

Your entire body shuddered, his command sending you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his length, milking him of his seed. Your body trembled, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of ecstasy. His breath becoming ragged as his own release neared.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slapping against you. "Your cunt is so fucking perfect."

"God, yes," you moaned, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

He slammed into you, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his release. "Oh god," he moaned, his hips snapping against yours. "I'm gonna cum."

"Yes, Bucky. Cum inside me," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your words were enough to send him over the edge.

He growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you, his cock filling you completely. He groaned as he cum, his body shuddering as his release washed over him.

"That's right," he groaned, his body going limp. "Take all of it." You felt him twitch inside of you, his hot release spilling into you.

You slumped forward, your body spent as it slick with sweat and cum.  You could hear Bucky panting behind you, his chest heaving. You rested your forehead against the floor, trying to catch your breath. You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Your muscles were sore and tired, your pussy throbbing.

Bucky was still inside of you, his cock softening. He pulled out, his cum spilling out of you. You could feel his cum leaking from your pussy, dripping down your thighs. "Look at that," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Such a pretty sight." He slid a finger between your folds, collecting the sticky mess, then he pushed it back inside you. You let out a small whimper as he slowly pumped it in and out.

Bucky turned you around, your head falling back against the floor. His face hovered above yours, his blue eyes burning with lust. He looked down at you, before he could say anything, you both heard footsteps approaching.

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then the next thing made your heart skipped as you heard the doorknob turning. You could only pray the ground to swallow you whole.

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the story! Apologies if the ending didn't meet your expectations, I'm considering a Part 2, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm open to any feedback for improvement. Your input means a lot.

If you want to see more, please show your support by leaving a like. Thank you for taking the time to read!

A/N : Thank you so much for the kind replies and support! I'm really glad you enjoy the story, you have no idea how much that motivate me to continue writing. Please stay tune for part 2! Love youuuu xx

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA MY ONE TRUE LOVE!!! CAN I HAVE SOME PERCY AND TONKS CONTENT TO MAKE MY SOUL CONTENT PLEASE ✨✨✨

There are several titles that fall under the auror. When the ministry was first established, it was just inferior and superior, meant in the Latin way, but that fell out of favor rather quickly for obvious reasons. There was some talk of adopting the ranks of a legion used by the Romans, but since such ranks are still in practice in magical Italy, it didn’t the smartest idea. Tonks thinks that it was probably a Zabini who suggested it. Now their ranks are just numbered, from fifth to first, and junior, standard, and senior.

Everyone starts the same – fifth ranked junior auror – and works their way up one by one. Training is a year and if they make it through that, they’re a junior agent who better make it up to the first rank by the end of their third year, otherwise they’re likely getting cut.

There’s a track to speed through the junior phase and get to the land of securely employed standard auror, but that’s for people that have combat or specialized experience, usually for people who aren’t entering auror training straight of school like she is. Or for when they’d needed to replenish their ranks during the war and those applying had been fighting anyway.

Which is why she’s looking in confusion at the thick roll of parchment that Shackbolt has shoved under her nose. She’s only a couple months into training and while she thinks she’s doing pretty good, she’d also tripped over her literal two left feet during the first week of boot camp. Sometimes she changes in her sleep and doesn’t notice for a while, okay? It’s not like she did it on purpose. She’s pretty good at dueling, her mother made sure of that, but they haven’t even gotten to that part yet. “I’m confused.”

“Fill this out and give it back to me by the end of the week,” he says, already turning away from her.

She makes her arm extra long so she can grab his elbow before he gets too far away. “But I don’t have anything that qualifies me! There’s no way Bones will approve this.”

He raises an eyebrow and looks down at her arm. “Are you sure about that, Trainee?”

Oh. But she hasn’t really gotten a chance to show those skills off either, and being a metamorphmagus is impressive, but not that impressive. But she does as she’s told, leaving it on his desk and trying not to think too much about it.

Bones approves it.

Being on the advanced track has it advantages – blessed job security – but it also means she just gets a jump on desk duty, really. Apparently they don’t just send newly minted aurors out to battle dark wizards to the death, for some reason.

She sighs. She’s never been very good at paperwork.

How very not good she is at is proved when during her very first week when Percy Weasley shows up at her desk, looking even more sleep deprived than he had as a runty fourteen year old, which is impressive. He’s a lot taller now. Late growth spurt, perhaps. Or maybe she just wasn’t paying that much attention. He drops a stack of paper on her desk and she recognizes her own messy scrawl. “These are filled out incorrectly. I can’t process them like this.”

Her shoulders slump. She’d tried to pull other reports and fill them out the same way, but it was all so confusing. How she’s supposed to know how to categorize these things? Why are there thirteen different codes for a house robbery, anyway? And there are so many different sections, and she wasn’t even there, she just has other people’s notes to go off of, and they take notes like she did in History of Magic.

She’s going to be here all night redoing them and they’ll probably still be wrong and Kinglsey will regret ever pushing her through the advanced track and her mother will have been right, which is really the worst of all –

“Hey,” Percy says, and she blinks several times before looking up at him so she doesn’t embarrass herself. “I can – if you’re busy, I can just,” he reaches for the papers he’s dropped on her desk.

She slaps her hand over them to stop him, but instead his hand ends up trapped beneath hers. “No! No, it’s okay, I have to learn how to do this. It’s important.”

He stares at her with a look she can’t explain. “It’s just paperwork.”

“It’s my job,” she says stubbornly, “it’s all important. I’m going to be a great auror – the best auror. And that includes my paperwork.”

He smiles at her, which is suitably distracting from her own ruined night. She doesn’t know if he’s ever smiled at her before. He’d always seemed so stoic, nothing like his brothers. “All right. If you’re sure.”

“Yes,” she says, freshly determined, finally lifting her hand off his. Everyone else has figured out how to do this. She can too. She will. “But thanks.”

“No problem,” he says, then, “My dad has a muggle coffee pot in his department lounge. If you want. The password is rubber duck.”

She does prefer coffee made the muggle way. That’s how it’s made in her house, of course, with her muggle father, and there’s something to the taste that she thinks coffee loses after it’s third hour of being charmed hot or squeezed through by magic instead of just hot water and a little patience.

How does Percy know that?

Before she can ask, he’s already turned and walking away from her, and she barely has the chance to shout, “Thanks!” before he turns the corner.

[yuri-is-online]

Fyuuture Kid AU is actually my favorite au of yours; I just think it's cute! How's floyd Yutu? I feel like there would be a thin line between "You're cool ig" and "You and shrimp are a little... close. Stop it." But once he knows that's his kid? Yeah all bets are of. Sorry Azul; he actually CANT go to work today he's too busy being a FATHER and a HUSBAND (these single fucks can cry about it)

No because this is exactly what I see happening and just the image of Floyd being like "nah I can't hang out spouse needs my help with the kid. Oh you wouldn't get it because YOU GOT NO BITCHES" he's just so silly I love him so much (つ╥﹏╥)つ

notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is part of the fyuuture kid au, Floyd's part can be found here, and the explanation for the au can be found here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.

Yutu wasn't really prepared for the first people he saw to be his parents. He knew he was going to have to see them eventually, and he did a lot of preparing mentally for seeing Yuu again but his dad? His father who he has heard so many stories about, the person he admires second only to you?

"And who's this little guppy?" The whites of Floyd's eyes widen as he zeros in on him, Yutu's senses force him to drop into a defensive stance and get in between the danger and Yuu. He's being circled by a larger, more dangerous predator. Every nerve ending in his body is screaming he is in danger, that Yuu's in danger, but he feels happy. He knows what his father's voice sounds like now.

"I ain't a guppy." The points of his teeth flash, but Floyd isn't amused by Yutu's claim.

"You are what I say you are, small fry."

Floyd! Yutu is very extroverted. He enjoys talking to people and had a lot of friends before and after being isekaid. If Yuu or one of his friends was more introverted he took a great deal of pride in doing most of the talking for them. He likes being helpful, or at least he says he does. If you've seen those videos of morays who act like puppies around divers they've known for years, that's sort of how Yutu acts. He's a big puppy who pretends not to know his own strength. Unless your his parent, he fears no man, but Yuu's wrath? That scares him.

He's similar to Floyd in school performance, he doesn't like to pay attention so he doesn't always do well. He didn't have a choice about paying attention to magic classes though, among all the different versions of Yutu, Floyd! Yutu might be one of the most cracked when it comes to combat magic. If you were to ask him about it, he'd say he sees his skill as another way of being helpful, but that prey drive is no joke he does like a good fight. Just not when that fight is against his dad...

He has always loved the water, whether he was swimming or out playing in the rain he always felt most at home in the water. In your world he was on his school's swim team, and while Yutu gets why he isn't allowed to be on NRC's he is still a bit salty about it. On the one hand he gets to actually live in the water now. On the other he sort of needs to find a hobby.

Maybe he could focus more on cooking? Or fishing? Or would that just be hunting under the sea...

The oceans of Twisted Wonderland were never safe, but in the time that Yutu arrived in they had become borderline unlivable due to blot pollution. Yutu really loved being in Octavinelle for allowing him to experience a little slice of what the Coral Sea was supposed to have been like. The version of the dorm he was placed in didn't have the lounge anymore, so he is very curious about Azul's business.

Papa (Floyd) Leech isn't very impressed. On the one hand he thinks it is kind of funny watching the shrimplet run around campus following Yuu like he's convinced they're going to disappear. Floyd feels like that sometimes too, it makes him want to drown you in his embrace and keep you here forever but he tries to ignore those feelings most of the time.

On the other hand knowing he can't just drop by Ramshackle and have you all to himself anymore makes it really hard to ignore them. Shrimplet doesn't even have the sense to be afraid of him, Floyd swears he gets excited when he threatens to give him a squeeze. And what's worse is you are really protective of him! Sure you're protective of Baby Seal too, but he's got enough sense to piss off when Floyd glares at him. He does leave when Floyd threatens to fight him, but not because he's scared. He looked sad actually, which Floyd clocks and brings back to Jade and Azul.

You asked another question about what happened to the boys in the bad future, and I want to save most of my thoughts related to what happened to Floyd for that answer, but Jade was still alive when Yutu got isekaid and he was able to meet him. They had a really good relationship, so when Jade comes sniffing around for information, Yutu is able to dodge his questions pretty easily. Future! Jade actually used his signature spell on him before he traveled back in time just to fuck with his past self. He did make his nephew promise to tell him if the one use rule applied to this case. Partially for science, partially because he knew that it would give his younger self the chance to keep the information to himself.

And keep it to himself he does- sort of. He makes sure Yutu knows he knows, but he never explicitly says anything to him. No what he wants to do is distract Yutu so Floyd can be a sulky coward in peace. That he does make clear to Yutu, he would like his brother to have more than one kid for him to be a bad influence on and he needs him to actually make a move on Yuu for that to happen.

I am not 100% on how the reveal on how Floyd learns about what's happening and who Yutu is, but once he does he is very serious about it. He wants to know what Yutu thought about him, why he knows more about Jade then his dear old dad, and what happened to Yuu to make him so protective. Wasn't he there at all? He'd never abandon his mate or his son... little shrimplet knows that, right?

Well he's just going to have to make sure he does know that. And everyone else too, "these single fucks can cry about it" indeed. Yutu is getting dragged to the Atlantica Memorial Museum so they can swim and talk about Azul's overblot, and how cute his parent was for standing up to him. He still wants to spend time alone with Yuu sometimes, but he gets why Yutu is afraid of letting them out of his sight now. He would feel the same way. If Floyd can manage it he wants to take him back home too (not to introduce him to the grandparents since that would just raise questions), since Yutu never got to go there.

Floyd would be such a good dad. An embarrassing one too, you know he teases Yutu, roughhouses with him, and openly flirts with Yuu in front of him. He's really looking forward to getting to be embarrassingly in love with Yuu in the future, and no silly "end of the world" thing is going to stop him.

[blue-jisungs]

SO BEAUTIFUL

author's note. can u tell what i was hyperfixation on when i wrote this?! a cookie for those who answer correctly (emoji) btw this song is one of my faves when it comes to ian :( right after violet crazy and scaredy cat.......... however his whole discography is just mindblowing so its hard to have a 1 fav song ngl <//3

summary. idk man just whipped prince!joshua ...

genre. atla-ish !! its not the main plot but there's mention of element benders lolzies, royal setting (prince!joshu, army general!y/n), situationship/non-established relationship between them

warnings. blood, wounds (kinda descriptive, im sorry), fighting, mention of war and killing people (i mean yn is in army so....), cursing, one suggestive joke but i mean,, it was there like... it was stronger than me..., not a warning but emphasis on fem reader, yn kinda has a breakdown :(

word count. 3878

joshua ran his hand through his hair, letting out a small sigh. he was reading a book but his mind seemed unable to focus as the words and sentences didn’t make sense in his head. 

“you’ve been reading this one single page for ten minutes now, your highness” he heard seungkwan’s teasing voice and just looked up at his friend. 

“i’m aware of that, seungkwan” joshua mumbled and put the bookmark between the pages, leaving the item on a small table. 

he bit his lip and looked outside the window, the sight of mountains bringing him some peace.

joshua’s mind was uneasy due to the late return of his army. and his absence at the battlefield. 

the news of victory brought by his right hand and good friend, minghao, definitely caused him to sleep better. but before that, there had been weeks of days filled with stress and anxiety. and now, for  unknown reasons the army’s arrival was postponed – and there was no message. 

“i’m sure general l/n has everything under control” seungkwan’s voice brought joshua back to reality and he subconsciously smiled upon hearing your last name. 

maybe that was the reason why he was constant concern. he was worried about you. no, it wasn’t like he doubted your fighting abilities it’s just… anything could happen on the battle ground. besides, you weren’t a bender. obviously, every caring prince would be worried about his subordinates. the matter was that it was your first serious battle all alone. usually he was there too. or at least seungcheol, who was his father’s military advisor – also very skilled in combat. but due to his injury and the medics sharp warning he wasn’t able to go. 

joshua sighed quietly and stood up, lazily walking up to his balcony. the cold air hugged his face, a refreshing breeze filling his lungs.

another cause of his stress was… well, you’re a woman. it’s not like women don’t hold high positions in society and are well respected in the water kingdom but… army was mostly men. who knew if any of the soldiers didn’t cause you trouble. 

“i don’t think that the ball is a good idea…” joshua mumbled, tracing shapes on the marble railing. 

“whether you like it or not, your mother had already decided. majority of our alliances arrived” seungkwan shrugged and turned around upon the sound of knocking. joshua looked through his shoulder, expectant. 

it was minghao. 

it must have been good news since he was shining. 

“they’re here” 

before the prince could pass him in the door, minghao cleared his throat. 

“y/n is resting though” 

joshua stopped in his tracks, not even realising there's a smile that appeared – dropped now slowly. 

“is she hurt?” he asked, worry in his voice. seungkwan closed the balcony door and joined the water kingdom’s prince's side. 

“no, no. not as far as i know. she’s just exhausted and needs to prepare for the ball. and the paper work, losses and such… it’d be better if you didn’t bother her” minghao suggested softly. “wonwoo is to your disposal though”

wonwoo, the lieutenant general. that’s fine, he’ll just ask about you. 

joshua nodded and left in silence. seungkwan and minghao exchanged playful looks. 

joshua could not sit still. his mother sent him numerous looks but his eyes weren’t focused at her at all. he scanned the crowd in search of you. 

his mother was oh so kind to postpone the ball to the next day, letting the soldiers rest. as he noticed, most of them made it. you surely would be here too, right? you were the general after all. 

then it struck him like thunder. 

there you were, in the midst of people. a flowy, light blue dress on your body gently falling onto the floor. he knew you got the access to the best sewers in the kingdom but this time… your dress really reminded him of water. maybe it was the silver linings in it? or just the lightness of the fabric? either way, you looked angelic. and with your hair loose, falling like waterfalls on your shoulders. 

as the great warrior you were, you sensed his gaze on you. sending him a small smile, looking from above your companion’s shoulder, joshua sighed dreamily. 

your lips moved and then you walked past the man you talked to, stepping directly into joshua’s direction. he cleared his throat, his sight on you. 

“my queen” you hummed and bowed gently to his mother first, then you held eye contact with him with another bow “my prince”

“general l/n, you’re truly the shining star of our army. we’ve heard the tales and i must say, i admire your vigour and dedication” his mother said. you bowed again.

“thank you, my queen. i’m proud i can serve our country” you nodded, smiling gently. joshua adored your face, not being able to get enough of it. especially after your three-months long absence. 

“mother if you don’t mind, you’ll hear the stories later. now i’m going to kidnap general l/n for a minute” 

before you knew it, his hand tenderly interlocked with yours as he lead you to the dance floor. landing in the middle, below the silver chandelier that lit up your face in the prettiest ways possible, the prince placed a feather-light kiss atop of your hand. 

the music started, the royal sounds of cello and violins ripping through air; joshua led the dance, his ebony eyes scanning your face. his features were overtaken by the look of how much he missed you, you could tell it by his eyes only. the soft curve of his smile made your heart melt, fingers brushing against his neck. 

“so beautiful” he hummed deeply, heart almost aching with joy. why was it like this? he thought he thought it through but now he was just confused; why does his heart hurt when you’re finally within his reach? 

”so, so beautiful” joshua repeated, daring to glance at your lips “i missed you dearly” 

you huffed, letting him sway to the rhythm of music. because he was an excellent water bender, he was one with the flow – whether it was his element or music. he guided you through the sounds of instruments, which made you emotional. hearing the sound of them after months away from your homeland… 

“aren’t you tired? are you fine?” joshua asked, care in his voice. he had you so close yet so far. in his arms but unable to caress your cheek or kiss your lips. 

you shook your head, scanning his face. maybe you missed him too, after all. 

“i’m perfectly fine now” you whispered and his look was more expressive than words; he understood what you meant: you missed him too. 

the melody came to a halt and it was like a string snapped in front of your eyes, the sudden sound of chatter making you go back to reality. 

“i’m sure there’s plenty of young ladies willing to dance with you. i shall not keep you busy” you said. joshua opened his mouth, protesting. 

“let’s take a trip down a darker place, the garden has really improved when you were absent” he almost whined, begging with his eyes so you’d spare him even a mere moment alone. 

suddenly, wonwoo approached you. he leaned in to whisper something in your ear, concern on his face. you nodded, features getting colder than snow blasting in the harshest of winters. he knew that look, it meant trouble; it meant an approaching threat.

“i’d be more than willing to. however, there happened to be an urgent matter that needs to be taken care of. i…” you hesitated and sent a look to wonwoo. he understood since he left right away. only then quiet words left your mouth “i’ll meet you in your chamber later, shu” 

his heart skipped a beat, nodding. his eyes followed your figure, finally at peace that you’re back.

an outsider would never think that you’re a general, one of the skillest people in the kingdom when it came to combat. whilst being a non-bender, which was quite impressive. you were just so… flowy, glowing and gentle. oh, gentle you truly were… 

“...the fuck you mean we had a tail?” you hissed, poking wonwoo’s chest and then taking a deep sigh “well fuck me, that’s just fucking great!”

“i bet your highness would want to do that” wonwoo cleared his throat, your hand slapping his arm in an instant.

“lieutenant general jeon, i ask you to behave accordingly to the situation. there is a risk of coup, the life of the royal bloodline is on the line and you dare to make a joke?” you said coldly, making wonwoo shiver. then, you suddenly snickered “i do admire your timing though. and now tell me more” 

you and wonwoo were close, it’s not like it was out of his manner to joke like this. but the fact that there might be a spy in the castle right now… 

“chan came across the traces and him and others made an assumption we’re followed by an fire nation soldier who survived the battle” wonwoo gave you the details. 

your light dress rustled on the late afternoon wind, breeze running through its fabric. you closed our eyes, fingers tightening on the marble railing of a terrace. 

there were two choices in this situation: announce there might be a spy and transport the royal family into a guarded place, which may result in panic and rumours spreading (including those about your incompetence). however, the spy might run off or give in. the second option: stay silent and don’t let anyone suspect a thing, take care of the spy with your own hands. risks: people getting hurt, especially the king or queen. or prince. 

“do we know where they might be now?” you asked, looking through your shoulder at the crowded ballroom. chatter, dancing, music… people living to the fullest. and joshua being there too. 

“we do have suspicions that they might be nearby, we found some traces near your… your, um, house” wonwoo answered, your eyes shifting. 

“so they want me, huh?” you sighed. that was far better than the royals getting hurt. staring at the sunset, a wide palette of oranges and yellows melting into one, you nodded. “inform the guards, keep an eye on any suspicious activity. i’ll go check if they’re still around my place. report immediately if anything happens”

“yes, general” wonwoo saluted and walked away, feeling the breath of urgency on his neck. 

adoring the sunset for a little longer, watching it morph into a navy night sky; you decided to go before it got too dark. 

joshua was walking around his chamber, footsteps echoing due to the largeness of it. it was past midnight, almost 6 hours since you left the ballroom… did you change your mind? you didn’t want to come? 

he let out a deep sigh, plopping on his bed and staring at the book he was reading. 

joshua was a prince and enjoyed literature, he has read countless and countless books and genres. he especially found an interest in old romance but all of them had a similar scheme when it came to relationships: the woman was the one to be head over heels whipped for the guy. she’d blush when someone mentioned his name, she’d miss him dearly when he’s on his adventurous voyages, she’d dream of him even in her sleep. he never read a book with an opposite order of things. and yet… here he was, waiting for you like a lost puppy. while his heart sought after you, his mind was worried about your wellbeing during your army shenanigans, he longed to hear, see or touch you even for a mere moment longer. 

huffing like an displeased child, he laid on the bed. if you come, you come. and he’ll be asleep. that way, you’ll know he doesn’t cares that deeply—

knock knock. knock knock knock knock. 

joshua frowned, sitting up. it could be you but… it wasn’t your usual knock.

the door opened with a quiet creak. you were leaning against the doorframe , upper body leaning forward with hair falling on your face.

“took you long enough” joshua mumbled and stood up, when you suddenly started sliding down the doorframe lifelessly. he ran up to you, kneeling down and grabbing your hands. frighteningly cold hands “what’s wrong?”

his voice remained strong unlike his heart. you gathered all your willpower and raised your head, fighting the dropping eyelids. 

“my back…” you croaked out, leaning forward but only ending up in his embrace. 

he did not image your reunion like that. 

joshua gently moved his hands to your back and his fingers met with something… sticky…? the flowy material of your dress was ripped, the warmth of the liquid contrasting with the low temperature of your body.

“y/n, what happened?” he asked, voice stern yet revealing a hint of worry. 

“i’ll explain later just… help me, shu. please” you breathed out, the air tickling his neck. joshua gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing, and he grabbed you in bridal style. 

placing you on his queen sized bed, rolling gently to the side, his mind was racing with thoughts. what happened? were you attacked? was it a fresh wound? 

“i’ll rip the dress, only on the back. i apologize, ill buy you thousands of new ones just… breathe for me, alright?” he stuttered, putting on some light. 

only then his eyes saw how serious was your wound. he took a sharp inhale, throat going dry. 

there was a deep wound going across your back, left arm to almost the side of your right hip. it looked like a sword left such a mark. 

joshua quickly opened the handy tap he had in his chamber and didn’t bother to pour it into bowl. 

he bent water straight from the tap, focusing deeply. trying to connect with his inner peace and energy but his rapid heartbeat seemed to disturb him too much.

“focus, jisoo” he grunted to himself, slender fingers shaking “y/n, talk to me. you need to stay conscious” 

“won’t talking take my oxygen that i desperately need–” you started.

“yeah, you’re right. be quiet” he scoffed, trying to light up the mood. then he moved his hands slowly from the beginning to your wound to the end of it. very slowly, surely. still like water, his palms flat but fingers directing the stream of liquid. you groaned, curling your back. 

it wasn’t the first time joshua was patching you up but it definitely was the first time he knew it’s dead serious… and seeing you in such pain. 

another thing was that at the back of his mind there was a sprouting thought that he won’t be able to close the wound completely. not with his heart all over the place. 

joshua took a deep breath, focusing on the element flowing through his body. not on you… in pain… bleeding out on his bed… 

“’m sorry” 

at first, he didn’t hear it. only when he heard a sob, he realized that it’s you. 

“hey, no. don’t apologize, that’s an order. it’s a deep wound, i know it hurts but im trying my best and we’ll talk it out later. 

inch by inch, millimetre by millimetre, thanks to his healing abilities your skin started clasping the wound. he wasn’t sure which technique to use – layer by layer or pieces at once but the crimson liquid pouring out of your pale back made him chose the first one. which will lead to leaving a scar. 

joshua began to feel worn out, despite all the hours of training that prepared him for such situations. but he knew that if he stopped now, you could die. 

“shu…” you mumbled, shaking like a leaf. your voice was quiet, weak. he felt time slipping through his fingers. 

brows knitting, sweat dripping down his temple, joshua shook his head. despite strength leaving him, he promised himself to restore as much as possible. 

you looked through your arm, pearly tears shimmering in the moonlight. joshua’s heart ached, as if someone put a needle right through it.

“i know, i’m sorry but i beg, a few more minutes…” he croaked, feeling lightheaded. 

“you’re exhausting yourself, stop it” a whisper escaped your lips “shu, please” 

“no, you need to live” he grunted. you frowned and tried to sit up, causing him to gasp “are you insane?”

“give me the bandage and go call the medics. i don’t want you to pass out” you ordered, reaching for his hand. 

joshua put the last ounces of water and energy into your body, leaning to close the tap. then, he dug in one of his drawers.

you were still bleeding but far less than when you barged in. he handed you the material and wiped the tears, sweat and blood off your face. 

“i’ve got this now. go get some help, please” you sent him a weak smile. 

joshua cursed mentally and left quickly. you were probably right.

once he was back with jun, jihoon and seokmin, they took care of you. the oldest one gave you some herbs that would put you to sleep as they worked on your wound. joshua insisted that it all took place inside his chamber. 

they were done around 3am, leaving you two alone. the prince managed to get rid of the blood stained duvet and covered you in a blanket that was on his couch. 

them, he laid down next to you. the moonlight shone on your pale face, parted lips making an escape for soft snores. your chest was rising up and down a lot more calmly, joshua could feel your energy being more vivid that before. it was stable now, like a steam of water in the woods rather than dried out lake. 

“you always have to cause some trouble, huh?” he scoffed and reached his hand out, caressing your cheek gently. even in deep slumber after getting hurt you were so beautiful. 

he noticed your brows furrowing and fingers twitching. your breathing sped up, yet you remained asleep. joshua observed you cautiously.

“no… don’t… don’t kill him” you mumbled, shifting in your sleep. his eyes widened, realizing you’re having a nightmare “anyone but… but my shu”

joshua’s heart melted on spot, pleasant warmth flooding his insides.

“you can’t even get a rest, can you?” he huffed and shuffled closer, guiding your head onto his chest. you instantly nuzzled closer, arms instinctively wrapping around his body. 

with an uneasy mind, he caressed your hair. your breathing calmed down so he wondered if the nightmare went away. 

joshua stuck his gaze into the open window, unable to relax. stars barely shone on the navy horizon, covered by clouds. it seemed like the sky couldn’t sleep either. 

upon stirring awake you instantly knew (even without opening your eyes) that you’re in joshua’s bed. it was much more softer than your bed but above all, it had the comfort. you felt warm and secure; cozy in his hold. joshua had his arm wrapped around you, fingers tracing shapes on your skin. 

peeking an eye open you noticed he’s holding a book with his other hand, eyes tracking the text. 

you wanted to stay like this forever. 

then, a stinging pain ran through your back and you trembled, causing him to shift his worried gaze at you. he gasped softly. 

“you’re awake” joshua hummed and leaned closer, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

you melted because of the gesture, nuzzling further into his neck. 

“how do you feel?” he asked, worry in his voice. 

“better, much better. thank you, shu. i apologize for the mess i made” you mumbled, resting his palm on his chest. he put his hand over it, caressing your skin. 

joshua missed this so much. he missed you. 

silence was hanging between you two, an unspoken question of “what happened?” hanging above your head. 

“may i see wound?” he asked suddenly. you nodded, your hair tickling his skin. 

he helped you sit straight and handed you one of his sleeping cloth to cover the front of your body. 

joshua gently moved your hair from your back, his fingertips ghosting over your skin. goosebumps covered your arms.

“you know… you always say i’m so beautiful” you started quietly. joshua hummed in acknowledgment to let you know that he’s listening. then, he shuffled something closer and put it on the bed “but i’m not. i’m so ugly, joshua. my soul is ugly”

“that is not true, y/n” he protested sternly as his delicate fingers worked on removing the bandage. his touches were soft, almost as if he was afraid to touch you.

“i’m a soldier, shu. i hurt people. and yesterday… there was a spy. he sneaked up on me, threatened to kill you. and that triggered me i just… couldn’t bare that thought. and i saw red… he used my distraction and tripped me, slicing in the back” you stuttered, throat going dry “i’m a failure. i almost let him escape, your life was at risk and i couldn’t control my emotions…”

his movement halted for a while, the quietness od the room making your soft pants sound much more louder than you’d like to. 

“you are not a failure. you had led our army to victory, several times” joshua resumed and you felt the calming stream of water. then, you felt a soothing sensation spreading over your wound. 

joshua was bending to recover your wound, or at least make it heal quicker and more effectively. 

“yeah but… i’m a bad person” you mumbled, playing with your fingers. 

he stopped bending and put a new bandage over your wound, it still not being clasped fully.  

joshua patted your arm and you put his shirt on, turning around. 

“you know why i always say you’re so beautiful?” joshua asked and once you faced him, he grabbed your chin gently “obviously i mean your looks too but above all, i treasure your soul. you’re such a pure, dedicated human”

you swallowed, his soft features warming your heart. 

“this situation must have made you feel upset and not worthy but you’re so appreciated. my your subordinates, friends… by me. as much as i admire your readiness to sacrifice for me but please, i beg, don’t do it next time” joshua hummed, his thumb moving in soothing manner “i’d rather die myself than live without you”

“don’t say that” you scoffed, shaking your head gently “our country needs a leader”

“and i need you” joshua replied, moving his hands to cup your face “please, y/n. you’re so precious to me… so–“

“if you say beautiful i’ll smack you” you let out a laugh and he couldn’t help but share a smile. 

“but it’s true” he grinned and closed the gap between you two, lips crashing on yours. you shared a passionate kiss, a one that lovers after reunion share. 

but truth be told, you were like all those lovers in old tales. 

and maybe this time, there’s going to be a flawless ending: making it official.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Training Part 1

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers type. You and Gibbs never got along, and luckily you never really had to work with each other…until now.

Part 2

You followed behind Agent Fornell as the both of you stepped out of the elevator and into the squad room of NCIS.

You spotted the 3 familiar agents standing in front of the plasma, speaking amongst each other until DiNozzo spoke.

“Trouble on your 6 boss.”

Their supervisory agent turned towards you and Fornell, looking ready for an argument.

“You can release Ramos, we’ll take it from here Gibbs,” Fornell started.

“We’ll release him when we’re done questioning him Tobias. He has ties to our victim and has no alibi for the night of the murder.”

“He’s got nothing to do with your murder. He’s been under FBI surveillance for the last 3 months and if you compromise all of our work, both of us are gonna be on the chopping block with our Directors.”

Gibbs gave him a look that showed that he had no intention of backing down and Fornell sighed before turning to you.

“Stay here. We’ll be back.”

As Gibbs walked past you, you made sure to give him that hard stare that he always gives you every time you see each other. You met Agent Gibbs a few months ago on a joint Investigation and from day one he rubbed you the wrong way. He was stubborn, arrogant and always thought he was right. Even though he was good looking and good with a gun, you weren’t gonna let him intimidate you.

“So how’s it been, being the FBI’s lackey?” DiNozzo jested, making you roll your eyes.

“Better than you being Gibbs’ pet,” you shot right back, getting a snicker out of the Mossad agent behind you.

“You know I heard about that incident with your last case. Suspect got the jump on you. Sounds like your hand to hand combat needs a little work,” he continued.

You walked over, closing in on him, causing him to take a step back. You were at least half a foot shorter than him but judging by the unsure look on his face, your intimidation tactics were on point.

“He was 6,4” and pushing 200lbs DiNozzo. And I didn’t really do much hand to hand with him before putting two bullets in his chest. But by all means, we can put those skills to the test if you want.”

“Stop harassing my agents, Agent Y/N. If you wanna spar, you can do it with me,” you heard Gibbs’ condescending voice speak from the stairs. Looking over, you saw Fornell and him walking over and backed off of DiNozzo who chuckled nervously. You waited until he was standing in front of you to speak.

“Pick a place and time Gibbs.”

Your words held contempt and he just gave you a smirk while taking a sip of his coffee. It took everything in you not to slap it out of his hand. The rest of his agents were quiet as Fornell was smiled in the back.

“NCIS training room, 6pm.”

“I’ll be there.”

You all continued working, the case turning into a joint investigation, you making a point to avoid the Supervisory Agent as much as possible throughout the day. When lunch time came around, you and Fornell stopped by a little sandwich shop.

“So what’s your beef with Gibbs?” he asked you, taking a bite of his pastrami on rye.

“He just thinks he’s so righteous. The way he talks with people, the way he walks, everything about him screams douchebag,” you ranted, Fornell chuckling as you did.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just funny. Have you ever thought the reason you don’t like Gibbs is because he’s so much like you? And being the most competitive person I know, you hate having someone that matches you.”

“Don’t profile me Fornell. It’s above your pay grade.”

“See. Like that. Gibbs would’ve said something just like that. Maybe not as harsh but similar. I think you actually like him but don’t know how to deal with it. Maybe this little sparring sesh of yours will prove beneficial.”

You huffed in annoyance at his words but you he wasn’t completely delusional. It did make sense but at the same time, part of you genuinely didn’t like Gibbs.

“Are you trying to set me up with your best friend Tobias?”

He just shrugged his shoulders before stealing a fry off your barely touched plate.

“I’m not trying anything. You challenged him remember? Just one word of advice. He’s got a blind spot just outside his left eye. You use that knowledge correctly and you’ll have him on his ass. Then I can break his balls for the rest of the investigation.”

You both laughed and finished up your lunch before heading back to join NCIS.

————

You were just finished tying your shoes when you saw Gibbs come into the gym. He was wearing an old NIS shirt, some sweat shorts, and black converse. Very casual for someone about to get his ass kicked. You on the other hand, went with some black leggings, sports bra and a loose tank top.

“On the mats, let’s go,” he said in passing.

You followed him to the training mats where he placed a dummy handgun down. There were only 2 or 3 other agents in the room, minding their business with various gym equipment, seemingly none of Gibbs’ minions hanging around.

“Your objective is to not let me get ahold of that gun, understand?”

You just nodded and stood across from him, both of you an equal distance away from the gun.

“Now.”

Both of you ran for the gun, you getting there first and grabbing it. As soon as you brought it up to fake fire, Gibbs knocked it out of your hands, sending it sliding towards the other side of the mats. Before he could make his way to get it, you grabbed a hold of his neck and pulled him down in an attempt to get him to the ground but he just twisted out of it and broke free, giving him plenty of time to grab the gun and aim it at you.

“Dead,” he declared, making you roll your eyes.

“Congratulations Gibbs. Want a medal?”

Keeping a straight face, he walked over to you, eyes never leaving yours and stood a foot away, making you have to tilt your head up because of the height difference. Ok, maybe he was a little intimidating.

“I want you to stop being a brat and let me help you.”

You wanted to spit out something snarky but bit your tongue as he continued. “You’re never gonna win a hand to hand combat with someone much bigger than you based on brute force. Maneuverability and quickness are going to be your best friend.”

He took a step back and dropped the dummy gun.

“I read your file. You spent 2 years training in Judo and Jiu-Jitsu. Use those skills. Use the enemies own weight against them. For now, just try to get me to the ground for an arrest.”

You sized him up real quick, identifying his strong and weak points before attacking. You remembered what Fornell had told you earlier and decided to use it. Side stepping to Gibbs’ left side, you grabbed him by the shirt and used your leg to trip him backwards so that he fell to the floor. You wasted no time in climbing on top, getting your legs around his arm and neck before pulling in for a successful armbar. Once he tapped, you let him go and couldn’t help but wear a triumphant smile.

You went to get up but was taken off guard when you felt Gibbs push you back to the ground, grabbing your wrists and twisting them behind your back while sitting atop of your stomach and wrapping his legs around your own so you couldn’t move. You squirmed, hoping to slip free but he had you in a vice grip.

He leaned down so his face was inches from yours, both of you breathing hard from the exercise.

“Never let your guard down,” he whispered. You don’t know if you were more pissed about the fact that he got the drop on you or how turned on you were right then but you weren’t gonna let him win that easy.

He may have had a grip on your hands and legs but that didn’t stop you from pushing your chest up and bringing your head to the side of his, gently caressing his cheek with your mouth. You heard him let out a breath and loosen his grip just the slightest.

That’s all you needed.

Slipping your arms out, you used all your momentum to shift the weight, grabbing the gun that was lying inches away and pointing it at him once you were on top.

“Dead,” you declared the same as he had earlier but with more cockiness.

He chuckled and sat up, leaning back on his hands, licking his lips and looking at you with his head cocked to the side.

“With a little more practice, you could join NCIS.”

You laughed at his joke and took a second to give him a once over. His striking blue eyes, chiseled jawline and boyish grin was actually pretty attractive if you thought about it. In that moment, he didn’t seem like the typical douchebag you pegged him as and it unnerved you.

He didn’t make a move to push you off as you realized you were still straddling him and just held his stare until you looked away.

“I’ll stick with hanging with the big boys, thank you.”

You got to your feet and offered him a hand which he took. Your stomach fluttered just a little as his hands met yours to took the dummy gun from you.

“Look forward to working with you again Agent Y/N.”

You just smiled and turned to leave.

“Goodnight Agent Gibbs.”

As you left the gym, you saw his own smile appear on his lips.

[yichens]

Pit Babe Characters x Cartomancy ➣ Part 6: Pete & Way

King of Diamonds: A person with great wealth and power. Often skilled in various areas, a jack of all trades. Ten of Spades: A card of misfortune and tragic endings. Reveals secrets, obsessions, and lies.

for @pitbabeanniversary week 6 prompts: pete & way

(more thoughts under the cut!)

disclaimer: i am not an expert in either cartomancy or tarot reading. i did a lot of research on these two sites to come up with these cards for the characters. some of the meanings associated with the cards are still only my own interpretation, so they might not be completely accurate.

pete and way are the last pair in this series and i have to say that it feels fitting. they are the pair with no ending, the pair left the most incomplete in season 1. way dies for redemption (which is stupid imo) before he's able to ever open up to pete and his attempts to get closer to way. pete is only left with a grave, yet nothing seems to end. (pls s2 come quicker, i need way to have his glorious back from the dead -moment already!)

pete: just like alan, i think pete's card is very obvious and so, very cliché. he's the king of diamonds through and through, the person often associated with money and power. he's very proud of what he's accomplished in life, yet always thrives to be more, to be bigger, better, more powerful. he's in a war against his adoptive father in the only way he knows how, and so he must always be on the rise. he has no chance of letting loose, and i think we all can agree that he works way too much and rests too little. he is often stuck being not quite himself, lonely at the top. it must be hard when we can see that beneath the business persona, pete is horribly warm.

this is why king of diamonds is also described as charitable, generous, and reliable. once again, pete is a lot like alan, but where alan offers his heart, pete offers resources: money, connections, and his skills. he's tried his best to become invincible in every way just like his adoptive father seems to be. he's great in socializing, in doing business, even in combat and tactics. he's driven by his wish to help, and i guess that often ties to his compassion and understanding. that's why he hasn't given up on kenta and that's why he instantly reaches out for way, too. pete might not be able to provide a family in the way alan does, but pete is able to reach out a helping hand. he can offer a place to stay for those who have nowhere else to go and no one else to listen to them. he cares, and just like with work, it's sometimes too much. he does not get a break from it.

way: it was easy to decide that spades was way's suit; a little later, i decided on number ten. i was first thinking about ace of spades bc it's the death card of the deck, but i did not want to make way only about his death when it's the thing i dislike about his character so much. so, i decided on ten bc of the "tragic ending", which is not way's death, even if it kind of is. i think the true tragic ending comes for him earlier; with the reveal of his betrayal that causes him to lose everything he's ever had. he loses his pack, his family, his home; he loses himself, and all his self-worth, and worst of all, babe. bc he does love babe, even if it's in all the wrong ways. way has tried his best, has tried to do what he thought was right, and in the end, it is not enough to solve anything or save babe. (and so he must die, but let's ignore that.)

in a sense, the reveal of that betrayal is both the end and a beginning for way. after it's it's a way for him to be born again. he can give up on all the lies, all the acting and pretending. he's used so much time and effort keeping up his web of lies he must be exhausted by now. how many times did he almost trip? how many times did he forget what lies he'd told and had to come up with new ones, or had to use his powers to fix his mistakes? now, there's no longer need for any of that. he can finally breathe freely. no more lies, no more acting, no more being someone else. everything is out in the open and it must be terrifying bc the ppl who loved him before, would they reject this real version of him? even if they were not this hurt, didn't hate him, would they still not want way? what if tony is right and there's nothing to love about him? i don't know but i hate that the series never let way find out. but well, in season 2 we trust, i suppose. i have hopes and dreams about it <3

but based on these thoughts, it's easy to see why pete and way would work together. way is the master of deception, of lies and acting. pete is able to read people, literally and figuratively. there's no hiding from him and his touch, and i think in some ways, way needs exactly that. he needs someone to understand him without words, or to look into his head and put his thoughts into words for him. pete again needs someone he can trust with his softer side, which i also find interesting about him: he is so ready to offer his heart to way even after knowing who way is and what his powers can do. pete seems like a paradox in that sense, always keeping everyone and everything at a distance (or so i assume), yet being so ready to believe in ppl and offer them trust he's seen so easily broken.

there are also some other interesting connections to this pair i wanted to mention. the funniest coincidence imo is that babe's card is about new beginnings, while way's card is now about tragic or bad endings. also, charlie's card being the exact half of way's (5 and 10) seems to have some kind of story behind it. pete again has the same suit as kenta, both their cards in the royal family, and i think that's exactly why they work and don't work together. pete is exactly like the king, the one on top and in control, while kenta is the knight, the person who serves and follows. they're both calm in personality, tho am not sure if it's exactly who they are or if it's who they were forced to become. i wonder what could've been if kenta had left with pete – or if they'd never been taken by tony at all and had grown up like other kids.

this edit concludes my musings for all these characters. it's been a joy to make these and ponder on these boys, and honestly, i feel like i've found a completely new love and appreciation for all of them. thank you for all who have liked these edits and happy anniversary to the vroom vroom omegaverse bl, you've been stellar ♥ never thought i'd come back to you in a year but here we are, have my whole heart!

(idk if i'll make an edit for the last week, so also adding that i enjoyed the event a ton! it's been fun going to the tag and seeing everybody talk about the series again. looking forward to s2 and the anniversary stage live in less than two weeks ^^)

[fire-fira]

I am not sure how much you are into analysis but I want to ask. Do you think raph isn’t as good of a fighter compared to his brothers? because I have a feeling either he’s holding back when sparring with them over fear of harming them or he’s not as good as them.

Anon, you just made my day because this gives me an excuse to nerd out at length. (Though apologies that it took me so long to get this fully written out and posted.)

Disclaimer before I launch into it in full: to fairly compare Raph to his brothers I'm going to do a brief run-down of the three of them before breaking into the full details on him. A lot of this is built on extrapolation from details in various canons and at times might edge toward headcanon territory, though I'll be trying to stick with what's actually present.

With that out of the way--

Comparing Raph to His Brothers

So to start with, I can only fairly do this deep-dive by briefly touching on each of his brothers before getting to Raph himself. I'll say upfront that I think it's less a question of which one is the "best fighter" and more that they're each different types of fighters, each with their own strengths and weaknesses and which might land any of them in the position of "the best" depending on the circumstances.

Leo

Strengths: This is an extrapolation based on various iterations (2003, 2007, 2012, 2014/2016, ROTTMNT, 2023, Batman vs. TMNT, and a little bit of the IDW comics), but Leo strikes me as a tactician-- as the guy who can extrapolate to fifteen different possibilities for the outcome of a fight and fifteen steps ahead of everyone else on each of those possibilities. At his best he knows how to play to his brothers' strengths, put them where needed, and let them go to do their own thing. He's also persistent and willing to put himself through his paces over and over again until he 'perfects' what he wants to learn how to do. As a "traditional" (romanticized) example of a warrior, he is the golden boy of the family. Rise Leo might be a little less likely to get every step 'just so,' but most iterations of him aim to be as flawless as possible in terms of his combat skills. In his ideal world, he will never have a misplaced swing of a sword or inflict any damage he doesn't intend to. That depth of knowledge and highly-trained skill can be damned terrifying for his enemies if it's taken to its fullest extreme.

Weaknesses: His perfectionism and desire to get things 'just right' is a double-edged sword. In the 2003 series it got wrapped up in his PTSD and the need to never make a critical mistake again (which... didn't work out well for him-- hi, shades of Raph at his worst); in the 2007 movie it led him to think his efforts to learn how to be a better leader weren't "good enough" and kept him away from home for two years; in the 2012 series it led him to ignore critical injuries and try to bully himself into being 'better' (when realistically what he did during the farmhouse arc probably would have permanently destroyed one of his knees); in the 2014/2016 movies it led him to temporarily damage his relationship with his brothers by spilling over the worst of his internal perfectionistic vitriol onto them; and in Rise it at times has turned him into a showoff who'll act without letting the others in on his plan (which can backfire horrendously in a worst-case scenario) because if he does it without telling others what he's going to do, then he gets bragging rights if it works out like he planned. Underlying all this is what could turn into an unmanageable case of anxiety depending on the version of Leo and how personally stable he is, as well as how susceptible he is to ruminating over where he feels he went wrong. To say nothing of how many versions of Leo have a GIANT self-sacrificing streak when it comes to their families. Under the right circumstances-- and if someone really intended to make it hurt-- they could easily play all that against Leo and get him to freeze due to overthinking. (Though getting him to that level would take an extreme case and some severe emotional damage to weaponize his guilt.)

Speed: OKAY. Here's where things get a little more cut-and-dried in my opinion-- if a fight is down to just speed anyway. Leo might be pretty neck-in-neck with Raph in terms of speed, maybe just a touch faster due to (generally) being more lean-built than Raph. Leo's not a tank; yes he can fight in close quarters or mid-range and hold his own, but if he can then he tends to be 'slippery' about it. He's not going to batter away at an enemy if he can spin out of range before darting back in and dodging whatever hits he can. If it's just a matter of speed without any other factors involved, then there's a good chance Leo will win in a fight against Raph. If it's a question of strength and endurance though... Well, I'll expand further on that when I get to Raph.

Adaptability: This is something that is absolutely dependent on which version of Leo we're talking about and how hung up that version is on his plans without taking the general chaos of life into account. 2012 and 2014/2016 Leo both are guilty of getting so hung up on the idea that their approach to a combat situation is the right way that they fail to plan for the fact that their brothers' ways of doing things isn't their way of doing things. Which blows up in their faces spectacularly sometimes. IF it's a version of Leo who's more likely to fail to take into account his brothers' differing styles, then Raph might easily play that against him and deliberately do things Leo would find unpredictable (though probably not as much as Mikey, lbr). For versions of him that are better about knowing that his own approach isn't the only/'best' approach, then Leo would be better able to roll with whatever Raph throws his way, within reason.

Combat Style/Approach: Mid-to-close-range, tactician, and definitely NOT a grappler. Yes, his skills and training have him moving with muscle memory when he needs to, but even so, there's a split-second awareness of what his opponent(s) could do and instinctively reacting based on what he's met with. A lot of that means he has to be free to move and avoid getting held in place, or things might go bad quickly.

Donnie

Strengths: No matter which iteration of Donnie you're talking about, you're generally talking about an engineer who's able and willing to casually heft up and carry around a car engine with his bare hands. And considering (with a quick google search) it looks like the average car engine weighs anywhere between 300 to 700 pounds, that alone is proof enough that no one in their right mind would ever want to be punched by Donnie. And considering there are instances where he's able to temporarily support the weight of himself and his brothers (a couple of scenes in the 2003 series are what immediately come to my mind, but that's just my favorite iteration showing itself) it's proof that he has that strength not just in his arms. To give you an idea of just how much weight that implies he can lift, here's a size and weight comparison of some of the largest turtle species currently living.*

Notice anything? Like how... Oh... I dunno... a 4-foot-long Loggerhead sea turtle can weigh up to 400 pounds? Or a 3-foot-long Leatherback sea turtle can weigh 550 pounds on the light end? (Note: this is not meant to be snarky or condescending, just a simple statement of fact that all signs point to these boys are fucking HEAVY.) And that huge amount of weight relative to their body size seems to be pretty consistent among turtle species from what I've seen with my digging around. Which logically implies that the same holds true for these boys, and if we play fast-and-loose with the idea that we can roughly translate length to height... well... For general weight of the boys, I tend to assume at least 200 pounds, at least for those under and up to about 5-foot-tall. For the 2014/2016 set I might even suggest somewhere between 400-500 pounds-- but roughly comparing weight to size with that table of large turtle species, I'm probably severely underestimating their weight all across the board. Being generous, hypothetically saying all four of the 2003 turtles are about 240, that then means there are moments in the 2003 series where Donnie is temporarily lifting around 960 pounds, including himself. AND THAT MIGHT BE A SEVERE UNDERESTIMATION. Terrifying, right? So yes, Donnie is unquestionably strong as hell and maintains that strength by working on his various projects, and a full-force hit from him would land someone in a hospital-- if they're lucky. The other main thing working for him is that he's a tech genius. No, he's typically not as rigid or disciplined in his training as Leo is, but if he has access to tech and distance then he has a whole host of weapons and traps he can bring to the party (something which Rise Donnie excels at in spades). Raph's a much more physical direct-confrontation fighter, but Donnie has the capacity to turn entire environments against his enemies, depending on the means he has at his disposal.

Weaknesses: For better or worse, Donnie's primary personal strength-- the one he leans on above all else-- is his intellect and being able to puzzle things out. And again, he's an engineer: yes he can lift and move that terrifying amount of weight, but he's usually not doing it at speed. (Because let's be real, moving heavy and potentially very breakable machinery is not something you want to do quickly when you want to be able to use or repurpose said machinery.) He's not a slouch when it comes to his ninjutsu training, but there's a reason why the concept of Donnie pulling the 'I'm too busy to train right now' is a widespread fandom concept. It doesn't necessarily mean that he's not 'as good of a ninja', but more that he's not a 'traditional' ninja and has had to adapt things to his preferred methods. Yes he has a lot of physical strength, but he prefers to keep a distance from his opponent(s) if possible. Doing so, having that distance, gives him more time to plan and respond-- because unlike Leo, a lot of iterations of Donnie don't have that ingrained ability to read the possible actions their opponent(s) might take and respond on a dime (or at least not to the same level). Raph's tendency to brute force things-- something which Donnie technically could do but clearly does not like to-- might be somewhat unpredictable for him, especially because that puts Raph in close and doesn't give Donnie as much time to respond as he would like. All that said, Donnie could technically win a fight against Raph without his tech if he pretty much said to hell with fighting and decided to do an imitation of an octopus. At the very least he could probably hold him in one place if he was quick enough and managed to get Raph's arms pinned. And somehow kept him from walking. (It wouldn't be a dignified win, but it might still technically be a win.)

Speed: I'm gonna be honest, I do not think speed is on Donnie's side in comparison to his brothers. If he really makes an effort (rather than just going his own route and pursuing his interests) he'd probably be able to keep up with the others going at full tilt for a little while, but he'd probably tire out first. A lot of the work he does due to his areas of expertise is fairly sedentary, and frequently he needs to move with slow and deliberate precision. There's a lot of fine muscle control involved in that kind of work (especially if it involves maneuvering something heavy), but being able to consistently do that doesn't automatically translate to being able to do something similar at high speed. But that's okay, because if he has the distance and varied means of attack he needs, then he doesn't have to worry about keeping up with his brothers for an extended period of time-- it just has to be long enough.

Adaptability: If it involves tech or computer systems, Donnie's ability to adapt to a situation is unparalleled. Give him unrestrained access to an unfamiliar and shiny (and incredibly pervasive) system and he'll be able to make it seem like a tech apocalypse is targeting one specific person if he wants to. If it's a head-to-head physical fight though, it really depends on how desperate he is or how much breathing room he has (or both). If he's frazzled and panicky then there's the possibility he'll miss several opportunities or potential tools and, in a worst-case scenario, he might freeze. (An extreme example of this is how Rise Donnie gave up fighting the crab men when his tech failed, after all his brothers had already failed in that fight.) If he has time and space to think then he's practically unstoppable, but if he doesn't have that breathing room then chances are things won't end well for him.

Combat Style/Approach: Distance fighter, brain-over-brawn, could be a grappler if necessary but uncomfortable enough with it that it might work against him, might as well dub him a 'trap master' for the little surprises he might leave in his wake if he's feeling spiteful. He's a schemer, but not a chess master.

Mikey

Strengths: If there's one thing that can be said for Mikey it's the fact that most versions of him are innately gifted at picking up kinesthetic knowledge, to say nothing of the fact that he tends to be the most spiritually gifted of the brothers. In fact in several series (2003 and 2012 off the top of my head, though I'm certain it may have popped up in others) it's briefly mentioned that if Mikey really buttoned down and was completely serious about his ninja skills he would outclass Leo-- which means that he can naturally slide into the level of skill Leo has worked for years to achieve without even really thinking about it. If he wants to. And most of the time he doesn't want to. (Too much responsibility being that serious, so who can blame him?) However, his not constantly going at the equivalent of Level 99 in a videogame in fights isn't necessarily a detriment to him, because he has other ways to stay true to himself while giving himself an edge. Like being annoying on purpose. And knowing how to aggravate the hell out of his opponents until he tricks them into getting sloppy. Until he tricks them into giving him easy openings they should REALLY know better than to give him-- and would if he hadn't deliberately torn their nerves to shreds. If it's not obvious, I'm saying versions of Mikey like to play mind-games, and if they really want to they can be vicious about it and make it HURT. (Though again, most versions of Mikey are more invested in goofing off and playing around than being outright vicious or serious.) The point is, if he finds a mental opening that sticks, then how invested he is in winning the fight will dictate how serious he is about exploiting that weakness. To say nothing about how creative he can get when he really wants to be.

Weaknesses: The downfall of a lot of Mikeys is how distractable a lot of them can be. (I won't say this is a universal fact because I'm a big fan of there being variation among different realities, but a lot of Mikeys definitely being ADHD doesn't help. How well said version is able to compensate probably also varies.) So depending on the circumstances and the environment, Raph might be able to play that distractibility against him. (Buuuut that would require Raph to play mind-games, and most Raphs aren't the 'mind-game' type.) Plus, for better or worse, it takes a LOT to get most versions of Mikey to the point where he's ready to say 'Fuck everything' and throw everything he can into ending a fight right that second.

Speed: Mikey is, in my honest opinion (and based off most of the series and movies I've seen), the fastest of the brothers-- bar none. Which means if he tore off at full speed with the intention of skipping a fight entirely and just making Raph chase him, Raph probably would never catch him. Until after he wears down anyway. But if he zipped off and found a good enough hiding spot, then he could probably avoid Raph for a while. In a fight, because of his speed, there's a good chance that Mikey might be able to get in more hits than Raph, but that comes with the risk of getting in close to Raph-- and that can easily work against him in very short order.

Adaptability: Mikey's adaptability is through the roof. Most versions of Mikey, you can throw damn near anything their way and they'll roll with it in such a way that they land on their feet while their brothers are still scrambling for stable footing. There's also the fact that he's a very lateral thinker and able to apply concepts from seemingly unrelated sources to scenarios many others wouldn't even think to combine-- and he does so to his advantage. So yeeeeeeaaaaahhhhh, given enough room and space to work with (and not panicking), then there's a good chance Mikey's going to catch Raph off guard with something he'd never expect.

Combat Style/Approach: Close range, flighty, dart in-range to hit and then dart back out of range, mind-games and making his opponents angry to the point of getting sloppy seems to be his preferred tactic. He could be the most terrifying to go up against in a fight if he went absolutely stone serious, but 99.9999% of the time he does not want to and would much rather slip in some fun where he can. (If you don't believe me on that last point, consider that in the 2003 series I'm reasonably sure he has the highest body count of all the brothers, in the 2012 series he killed a kraang and wore the dude's skin on his head multiple times, and in Rise ALL of Dr. Delicate Touch and the frothing maniacal rage he has when angry. 'Nuff said.)

Raph

And here we come to the turtle in question himself, Raph. Hamato Raphael, Raphael Splinterson, Raphie-boy, take your pick.

Strengths: Raph is a TANK. Barring '87, this boy in most iterations pretty much makes it his mission in life to be the strongest of him and his brothers. He's also stubborn as hell and WILL NOT give in if he thinks it's important to stand his ground. Which means he can and will hold his ground and dig in long past when his brothers each have to retreat or fold; he can take the hits they can't and come out the other side still kicking. And what's more, if he feels the need to and is able to get up and be mobile, then he WILL hunt you down for as long as it takes and damned near nothing will stop him-- he is that. damned. STUBBORN. Let's be real, that combination is terrifying. Of course, naturally, this brings up questions of just how physically strong he is. I pointed out up in Donnie's section that Donnie is ridiculously strong, but just how strong is Raph? To answer that question, the infamous scene from 2007:

Just how much psi does it take to snap a katana? WELL, it turns out that finding out that information is really difficult (at least when I was nosing around and trying to find out). When I was doing my initial searching I found a video on facebook examining an anime scene (at the time-- back in September-- it was literally the only thing that remotely came close to answering my question that popped up) that claimed it would take at least 20,000 psi. Being that the person who posted that video didn't include any sources for reference, I'd take it with a grain of salt (especially since despite my best efforts I'm having a hard time finding that video again), but still. If-- for the sake of argument-- we assume that the 20,000 psi measurement is accurate for what it would take to snap a katana, that would mean that our boy Raph is capable of exerting that much force with each hand. And not just a brief spike of getting there either. No, for him to be capable of the force in that 2007 scene (again, assuming the number is accurate) then he has to maintain that force for longer than a second or two.

I don't know about you, but that makes this scene just that much more dangerous and intense in my eyes. It's not just that Raph could have killed Leo by stabbing him; it's also the implication that he could have easily torn Leo apart with his bare hands if he wanted to. So yeeeeeaaaahhhh, if Raph is able to get his hands on any of his brothers and is able to hold on, they're probably toast.

Weaknesses: Whoo boy. In most iterations, point blank, his biggest weakness is his temper. If he gets set off too thoroughly or if someone knows how to play it against him, his temper can make him get sloppy and lead to his defeat-- regardless of how ridiculously strong he is. It also means that, unless it's a version of him who has worked his ass off to keep himself in check, there's a good possibility that he might wind up doing things he'll regret when he's angry (and if someone really wants to twist the knife they can play that guilt and self-blame against him). If you go by 2003 and 2012 there's also his bug-phobia which can be played against him. (Even though 2003 Raph covers it with 'KILL IT WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE'.) If you go by Rise, then you DO NOT. EVER. WANT THAT BOY TO BE ALONE. And on a much more brutal note, going back to his stubbornness which is also one of his strengths

...there's a good chance that this boy might try to push himself past the breaking point if he feels it's necessary.

Speed: I've said before that I think Raph is pretty neck-in-neck with Leo when it comes to how fast he is, Mikey has them both beat in the speed department hands down, and Donnie is most likely to be the slowest moving of the four of them. If Leo has to deal with heavy weights while trying to move at speed however, Raph will have him outclassed due to having more practice in that department. For Raph to have a hope of keeping up with Mikey going full tilt in running away, Mikey would have to be carrying enough to weigh him down considerably. And while Donnie might stand a chance in trying to grapple with Raph, Raph having more experience in moving heavy weights at speed would probably mean Donnie would be better off trying to glom onto Raph like an octopus rather than outright grappling. So Raph's not the fastest, but he's not a slouch either.

Adaptability: As much as I love my boy, Raph is a tank, he's bruiser, he's a bulldozer who freely makes use of sharp and pointy things he can use to stab people with. Adaptability-- barring variation between sneaking in and out versus barreling in as loudly as possible to cause mayhem and destruction as a distraction-- is generally not in his wheelhouse. Given time and learning how to play mind games (and I don't doubt that an adult Raph could pick up and use the skill when he needs to) he'd probably become more flexible, but with where he's portrayed to be at in most iterations he hasn't gotten there yet.

Combat style/approach: Close-range, grappler, brawler, TANK. He WILL hold the line, he WILL dig in and hold his ground, he WILL be the wall and PROTECT with everything he has if he has to. He's also not above being outright brutally destructive when he feels it's warranted. And that "when he feels it's warranted" is key.

Details that affect the outcome:

Raph has a protective streak 500 miles wide. A lot of iterations try to be the wall for his family, the last line of defense when needed. He would sooner see himself hurt than anyone he cares about.

And it's not just his brothers, father, April, Casey, anyone-he-considers-family that he's protective of either.

Seriously, if someone pushes the protective button on this boy and his sense of right and wrong kicks in, he WILL get involved.

Raph cares and feels deeply; to him, family is everything.

You

have

NO IDEA

how much

this boy

LOVES

HIS FAMILY

or how much he'd tear himself up if he ever seriously hurt any of them. So the chances of him ever actually going all-out against any of his brothers is slim. (And the few instances in various iterations where he's come close it's seriously screwed him up emotionally every time. Like 2003 and the pipe incident, 2007 and the after effects of his fight with Leo, the implied guilt Rise had after he snapped back to his senses after reuniting with his brothers after he'd been alone, etc.) He might fight with his brothers, he might disagree with them from time to time, but overall he comes off as someone who firmly believes you don't ever deliberately hurt someone you should care about if you can help it. Which is backed up by instances of him panicking in various iterations where his decisions might result in his family's deaths, as well as the fact that he only really turns on any of them (think SAINW) if they cross the line of not being there for each other like he feels they should be. Some iterations might threaten to run off a lot, but he never will without a damned good reason because he loves his family too much to ever want to do that to them.

Final Assessments

Raph vs Leo: If it's in close and is just down to strength-- Raph wins. If Leo has the time he needs to scheme and play Raph the way he needs to-- Leo wins.

Raph vs Donnie: If it's in close-- Raph wins unless Donnie pulls off an imitation of an octopus and gets all of Raph's limbs pinned and holds on for dear life. If Donnie has the distance, time to scheme, and the means to set traps to his heart's content-- plus tranqs, no one wins against tranqs-- Donnie wins.

Raph vs Mikey: If Raph can get his hands on Mikey and keep him in one place-- Raph wins. If Mikey plays Raph like a fiddle with his mind games and stays out of reach-- Mikey wins.

Raph vs the three of them together: Well shit, that'd be a losing proposition under the best circumstances unless the goal was to try to out-stubborn them at something. 10/10 if he had to, Raph would keep dragging himself along even if all three of his brothers were hanging on to him to try to keep him from reaching his goal. (And if Raph hasn't exploited that fact during some wild-as-shit game of theirs, then Casey Jones is the queen of England.)

Raph vs his guilt if he actually seriously hurt them: Instantaneous loss that Raph would probably have a hard time ever forgiving himself for.

So do I think Raph is as good a fighter as his brothers? Yes.

Do I think he's holding back so he doesn't hurt them? Also yes.

Do I think anyone he went up against if he didn't hold back would be thoroughly screwed? Emphatically YES.

-----------------------------

*The site I got the turtle size table in Donnie's section is [here], if anyone wants further details on sea turtles.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Evidence Locker: Sam Carver x Reader

Tagging: @goldensunshine91 @foxfabled @kmc1989 @district447 @caffeinatedwoman

Prequel to:

Playing For Keeps - Sam regrets what he said about your first night together.

Big Heart - Sam takes care of you after noticing you're in pain.

Five Stars (NSFW) - Sam's realises his handyman skills do a little something for you.

Sam realises he has feelings for you in the evidence locker of OFI Headquarters. The two of you have been working on an arson investigation together, trying to tie the most recent one to a couple of fires he worked on five years ago when you end up going on a treasure hunt through the archives in the basement.

It’s cramped in there, the imposing metal shelves a little rickety, there’s barely enough room for one person let alone two. You’re constantly bumping arms, shoulders, hips trying to search for the boxes you require. Each tiny shred of physical contact makes him feel like there’s a thousand tiny fireworks erupting through his synapses.

It doesn’t help that because of the evidence, the place is temperature controlled. You’re wearing a sports bra under that crisp white shirt, one that does nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples as you brush past him. The shelf behind you wobbles, and he puts a hand out, using his weight to steady it, bringing his entire body flush against yours.

Christ you feel good, the perfect fit and he imagines stripping that shirt back from your shoulders and getting his mouth all over your chest. You’d be sensitive he thinks, and he wonders if he’d be able to make you come just from paying attention to that particular area. The idea of you riding his thigh as he teases your nipples with his tongue causes a stirring in his pants. His cheeks colour as he looks into your eyes because he knows you must be able to see the heat in his gaze, the yearning, the want.

Your stare strays beyond him, to something on the shelf behind him and your entire face lights up. He thinks he might just fall in love in that moment because he’s never seen something so captivating in all his life.

“We found it.” You say, slipping past him and the moments broken because if there’s one thing he’s learned about you over the past few weeks, it’s that if you get focused on something, your entire attention is on that task.

“I have ADHD.” You had told him when you’d first started working together. “I can get a little fixated sometimes.”

He’s noticed the little tricks you use to get around it, the timers, the color coded priority lists, you need to do things in a certain order, accomplish one thing at a time. Then there’s the pacing, you need move when you think, to talk out your thoughts. They emit from you in a rush, gaining momentum, building until the solution appears or you make a connection. He’d found it disconcerting the first couple of times because he’s reserved, he’s not used to being around someone so expressive but now it’s like poetry in motion, watching you work. He gets how you earned your rank, you’ve turned your condition into a super power, one you use to combat assholes who like setting fire to shit.

“Give me a hand Carver.” You say interrupting his thoughts. “Use that height for something useful.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He says and a flush creeps up your throat.

It's then that he realises that those feelings he’s having, they may not be so one sided after all.

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[beifong-brainrot]

The more I think about it, the more I think Bolin could easily embody that "human treated as a weapon/tool, who also believes that of themselves" tropes.

Like, it is not a stretch to say that Bolin has been "used" at least three times by antagonists of the show. By Kuvira, for his unique bending abilities and his good reputation, by Varrick for his looks, charisma and popularitu and by Eska for physical labour and her... um... you know I think I'll need to make another long post about Eska's weirdly intense attachment to Bolin.

In these relationships there is an onbious pattern, Bolin letting a more assertive/experienced person take the lead and order him around. Even when he's hurt or humiliated or frightened, he keeps his head down and does what is required of him until some big event (usually only vagely related to his current predicament ) allows him to "break free".

But without a decisive push, Bolin often appears unable or extremely unwilling to disobey the people he views as currently 'in control of him'. Often he's manipulated or pushed into something he's uncomfortable with, or explicity doesn't want to do, even hurting those he cares about.

Sometimes I wonder if even Bolin subconsciously sees himself as just a tool for others to wield and command. That it's easier to let others take charge than to think for himself, than to deal with the responsibility of governing himself. A responsibility he was never taught to handle.

This, as most analysis of Bolin ties back to his traumatic childhood and his codependent relationship with Mako.

Bolin grew up following Mako's lead. He never got to peel off from Mako, never got to slowly build up his independence, as children in more stable environments do. Because seperation from his brother would usually mean danger.

Hell, Mako often acts like a strict parent, since he had to step up to the role. However, often Mako tends to disregard Bolin's own agency and preferences in favour of Bolin's physical safety. Which isn't a bad thing, and Mako was doing as best he could, however this does obviously lead to Bolin being a little stunted in the decisionmaking department.

Bolin lacks agency, as a person. He relies on others leading him. One of the reasons him and Korra get along so well. She's headstrong and decisive and can easily direct him. This is probably why he also gravitated to Kuvira after Korra became incapacitated. He even explained to Mako that "Kuvira is basically just like Korra".

Bolin likes to be given a purpose and that purpose is given to hin by other people. You can see how lost he is when left to his own devices. I mean, Mako left him alone for like 2 days in B2 and Bolin immediately glued himself to Varrick like an abandoned baby koala. And the only times he was able to stand up to Mako, someone who often guides him, is when Bolin is, let's say, "wielded" by someone else (Varrick or Kuvira respectively). It's also fucking painful that whenever Bolin does branch off from Mako, he's always slapped back down, because the person who lead him "astray" turned out to be a villain.

Especially between seasons, and post B4 when team Avatar isn't together, isn't actively driven to do something, Bolin gets lost.

He's aimless in times of peace. He bounces from career to career, unable to focus on anything, because he's so used to tob being directed to fight, to literally survive. It's also important to note that he started training under Toza when he was like 13, no wonder all he can do is combat.

This, coupled with his lavabending being one of Bolin's most prominent skills (also note that lavabending is the only discipline of earthbending we've seen that can't easily be translated into building or art. Lavabending is pure destruction, at least in the form we're shown.).

Korra has her Avatar status, wisdom gained through adversity and her determination. Asami has her company, her ingenuity and drive. Mako has his detective work, and deductive skills. Bolin's just a good fighter and occasionally lifting the mood.

How is he meant to exist in times of peace?

Even though he is clearly uncomfortable with conflict.

Does Bolin have any interests? Things he likes to do other than eat? Other than perform and contort himself for other people to like him?

I thought the mind control plot from Rote could've started an arc of Bolin realising he can be more than a pawn or a tool, but alas, the comic was dissapointing on many fronts, including this one.

I know Bolin is supposed to be the imamture comic relief character, but he's very compelling and multifaceted to me. He has a lot of potential to be a groundbreaking character, however it doesn't seem like the creators are going that way. So um. That sucks.

Also this whole thought process came to me from listening to She was a bird, I was an arrow and thinking of weilin so that's the context of this analysis lol.

I'm gonna need to clear these thoughts up after a while, but hey, enjoy the silly Bolin rambles

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Okay okay. I just had this beautiful mental image of competence kink Steve. And my brain produced two fairly different images: Steve sees Bucky do something incredible during a mission. Idk what. And *oh*, he pops a boner right there and then, as much as the cup of his suit allows anyway. He can barely wait to get off the quinjet post mission, much to the team's amusement, to blow Bucky and then fuck into next week because holy shit hot

Or, Steve having an unfairly wet dream about WS!Bucky in the leather and incredible skills with all the knife tricks and so on and feeling very guilty about that. Because getting the horny from something Bucky had no control over? Not cool, at least in his mind. Bucks somehow gets him to spill though, and then ties Steve up and uses his knife skills to get him out of his clothes very efficiently, leaving Steve there as a panting and moaning mess Uh yeah my brain melted a little

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Oh, fuck yeah, I love competency kink. We can certainly talk about that and soak in the brain melt together, lol

Besides, we all know that that fucker has one

gifs by @/linusbenjamin

and this moment haunts him 😏 because of it.

Plus, that single shield catch isn't even to mention the million other examples I could think of for Steve's fixation on the Winter Soldier. The ghost is strutting around in what's practically fetish gear, like, c'mon, give Steve some slack. It's leather and straps and shimmering metal and decisive, confident combat. Motherfucker.

I am SO fucking down to think about Steve watching Bucky execute some incredible feat on a mission and getting turned on because of it, and I will expand on that in a minute. But, also, the second option, too. YES. Steve wet dreaming about the Winter Soldier? God, it's more than just likely, that shit absolutely happened.

(I did write something about those wet dreams in this ask answer under "war paint")

(Also, you need to see this art, that is... yup. Knives and bondage and competency.)

Okay, competency on missions driving Steve insane...

(warning for canon typical violence!)

It happens like this: one instant Steve is solely focused on strangling the underling that's freshly come at him 'cause he's just trying to get through the masses of them before he can actually disarm this whole fucking shitty, dangerous situation alongwith it's leader, and the next instant Steve is totally, completely, and entirely distracted from getting an arm around this fuckers throat, squeezing off his air between his forearm and bicep. It could not be farther from his mind, really.

Rather than thinking about how he can best discard this underling and move on to the next--always plotting his following move, what punch should he throw, what kick, where's his shield, how should he throw his shield, who's around him, and are they his teammates or this month's big enemy--he's aching, not thinking, aching to drop to his knees. It is a visceral, very unchill reaction that Steve can't fucking control. There is no way on god's green earth.

The wanting to drop like a fly isn't because he's tired and ready to give in and surrender, nah, he could do this all day, it's because he's at fucking full mast in his uniform pants so suddenly that he needs a goddamn break from himself. His own hyperreactive body. It's dizzying, debilitating, how his blood rushes from circulating oxygen as fast as it can to his bulging, burning, working muscles to pooling heavy and hot in his cock.

All that hot, thick blood filling his dick out as he moves and twists, grappling with his fucking random ass bad guy, and threatening, incidentally, to rub himself salaciously against the hard pressure of his athletic cup.

His cup is cupping him.

He's big, he can't not. He's got no fucking room. It's... yeah, it's, just--

Jesus Christ.

Steve's aching to drop to his knees and more. It doesn't stop at getting to his knees. One moment and he has the worst kind of desperate craving crashing through him, leaving him hankering for the sensation of firm, muscular legs squeezing around his throat, the pressure tight on both sides, making him feel like his head might explode as he gasps for air or he might pass out without any air or he might cum from pure fucking lust at how hot it is or all of the above all at once.

All at once.

It is an onslaught of arousal. Just. His appetency is un-fucking-checked for the tingling, sharp burn of fingers raking through his hair and pulling hard until he feels it in his scalp and skittering down his back, richly feeding the fire at the base of his spine. He needs to feel body heat suffocatingly around his neck and shoved up against him from behind. Heat painted like thick, sticky tar up the nape of his neck to the crown of his head.

And all that weakening fucking hunger is inspired by one instant. A single flash that he catches, lightning-fast, out of the corner of his eye.

Dark leather molded to fit a shapely body perfectly, sinfully, waves of hair flowing like water, and the distinct glint of silver metal caught in the sun, flashy and, just, sexy.

Bucky.

Bucky, who's barely just been able to be comfortable in combat again after deprogramming but is ever-skilled. Honed. Deadly and gorgeous as a honey trap.

Bucky, who has spent more hours in the gym training with Natasha than anyone else combined--something about mutual trauma and understanding and trust.

Bucky in elegant, lethal motion, wrapping himself like a lithe snake around his own steroid-fit underling, his burly thighs squeezed around the baddies thick, muscular throat, his veins bulging in strain, balanced perfectly on his broad shoulders, and keeping the power in his own mismatched hands. The palm of his hands, like it's easy.

Bucky is fucking winning, it's plain to see. No sweat.

Bucky has shocked this baddie by mounting him, throwing his weight around with ease in a way that shouldn't be possible for a man his size. Better, Bucky has thrown him even further off, fisting a hand into his hair cruelly, pulling so hard that his choices are to let his hair be ripped out and deal with the gritting pain or follow the hold and put himself in worse danger, prolonging the time before the pain. The unnamed baddie follows, of course. Anyone would follow someone as intoxicating and beautiful as Bucky. But he's then pinned there, throat fully exposed. Perilous. The most animal form of submission, this time forced and humiliated by defeat.

Bucky is the dominant fighter.

He is in control.

And he is making it known with what would be sickening glee if Steve was anyone but himself--if Steve wasn't so fucking aroused by watching Bucky wield himself as a weapon of his own choosing, taking control, and reveling in doing good.

God.

With his thighs around his neck, Bucky deftly plucks a long, sharp knife from its holster strapped onto his mouth-watering thigh and twists and twirls it around his fingers before holding it against the underling's throat. The threat is crystal clear and needs no further explanation: move and its lights out for you.

So, the underling folding to his mercy, Bucky slowly, slowly contorts his body, displaying his oh-so flexible spine and positioning his mouth right above his ear. Steve watches him whisper into his ear--his pink lips curling over the hushed syllables in the heat of chaotic, loud battle--and shivers.

Goosebumps come to attention all across Steve's body.

Shit.

He's unreal.

He's so gorgeous and so good and so charming.

At whatever he tells him, the baddie nods stiffly, all the color drained from his face, and Bucky retracts his knife unhurriedly, perfectly moving according to his own schedule, and confidently sheathes the blade it once more. Then, neatly, he unclenches his thighs from around his throat and slithers off his shoulders. It's almost a dance--totally smooth, well-rehearsed choreography.

He defies gravity.

As soon as Bucky is far enough from him, peeled away, the underling scurries off like a frightened rat, stumbling as he sprints off. Bucky watches him go with an unhinged, almost-pitying smile, an expression just for himself, as if to say, that's right, you better run. Tell the others, too. You fuck with me and it's over. Don't bother coming back.

Steve whimpers.

Realistically, it--Bucky devastatingly executing one of Black Widow's signature flipping, twisting moves as if it's his own and something developed specifically for him, an over 200 lbs man of pure muscle and metal--all happens in the span of seconds. Or, maybe it happens faster. It may not even be a single second. But for Steve, it plays in slow motion; it lasts ages in his mind.

Still, really, just it's one instant, and then his brain chemistry has been fully altered. Immediately. His wires have been crossed over and shorted out. Sparks fly. And his reboot back to being a functioning fucking human comes in the form of a punch to the face.

Fuck.

Steve groans through the pain of a fist colliding with his face, wincing, and opening and shutting his jaw to have it crack back into place. He's gonna fucking feel that later. But, for now, he has to ignore the heavy, aching throb of his cock, the pain in his jaw, and get back to fighting.

Later, he tells himself.

Later, that'll be his treat for getting through this shit day. He can kneel and beg, forgetting himself as a drooling, heaving, out-of-breath, hot faced mess at Bucky's feet, fumbling over words as he incomprehensibly pleads to have his shapely thighs wrapped tight around his head, his neck, his waist even, anything. Just hold him there until he fucking dies a happy death between those legs.

Heaven.

[notsorryiml8]

Concerning Kakashi's skill as a teacher, I think a lot of the differing opinions how good he is is caused by differing ideas of what he's supposed to do. I've seen a lot of fanfic that "fixes" him and makes him more of a drill sergeant, having him decide how team 7 trains and what roles they take. A more true to canon take, I think, is that his job is to be more of team leader than having a master-apprentice kinda role. He teaches mission procedures, handing clients, and basically how to live as a ninja. He could probably give them some advice, about actual jutsu and stuff, maybe recommend certain teachers, make sure they aren't being irresponsible, etc. I think that he shouldn't have had to teach them tree walking, that being something they discover on their own, maybe with hints, but had to ignore subtlety due to the Wave mission. Like, the only other sensei that actually seems to be teaching their assigned student actual jutsu is Gai and Lee, everyone else, even close pairs like Asuma and Shikamaru, seems to be more like role models, or mentors. Idk if I'm explaining it right. TLDR Kakashi's a good sensei, his role in team 7 was never to be a drill sergeant/combat instructor, that role is fulfilled by master/apprentice relationships like Gai and Lee, and Sannin and team 7.

I may be wrong, but I don’t ever recall questioning Kakashi’s teaching skills. Heeeck, I’m one of his most ardent defenders 😊 lol. But I do also recognize his humanity.

I think Kakashi became a better sensei over time, but didn’t necessarily start out as a “good” sensei. But, before anyone jumps on me, that’s the nature of any job; especially one you never wanted. You learn by experience. A fresh, out of school, green neophyte on their first day ever on the job anywhere is not going to be as skilled as someone who’s been there 20 years, five years, or even just one year.

Kakashi, as a sensei, was just as confused as Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke were as students. Dude was winging it, because there wasn’t any other way. He wasn’t expecting them to pass, nobody else ever passed his test before and he didn’t have enough faith in the Konoha ninja education system to believe they’d create a team of kids who could work as a team. He was only in school for a year, if that, so he didn’t know what those kids were learning. So, he wasn’t prepared. Or even lowkey, he may not have wanted them to pass because it meant, omg, I have to be responsible for other people, tiny other people, tiny other people with no skills.

In Anbu, yes, he was a captain, but that was different. Anbu was loneliness. Anbu was darkness. Anbu members were expected to be cold-blooded killers. And Anbu members typically weren’t 12 (he, Itachi, and Yamato/Tenzo were exceptions). He also didn’t have to teach; just train. Different ballgame.

Anyway, I digress, back to Team 7, one was the son of his sensei who he trying desperately to not remember because it hurt, not to mention the kid was feral (yeah, I said it, 12-year-old OG Naruto was feral - severe neglect will do that); another was the last member of his clan that was brutally murdered under the authority of the village, so that kid was a just a wee bit unhinged; and the third was the this little kunoichi that from his perspective probably shouldn’t have been in the ninja world in the first place because it was a cruel, cold, brutal life and she was “normal.” He didn’t know what to do with a normal kid - he was never one. In the end, he accepted the situation for what it was and learnt as much as he taught. And that’s the beauty of it - the teacher became the student and the students became the teacher.

It seems like the academy teaches bare basics - heck, he graduated in a year at age 5. I’m not downplaying his skills by any means, just stating the freak of nature that he is, completed years long training in just a fraction of that time and not sure if that says something about him or the education system - they weren’t prepared to work with prodigious kids and that says a lot. Yeah yeah yeah somebody will say they were at war, so they let the brat graduate. But that’s another post.

Anyway, that being said, I agree the academy should teach more. I strongly believe they should, at a bare minimum, learn their chakra nature while there. That seems like common sense. Just give out the litmus paper and test them and group them accordingly (I find it hard to believe that there are a bunch of shinobi going around not knowing what nature they have. Guess it would be based in your clan??). The basics of chakra control, water walking, tree climbing, etc… Makes you wonder what the heck they did teach them while there. I’m beginning to think it was just regular school and they learned some “cool ninja stuff” here and there - clones, substitution jutsu, taijutsu…

That being said, from what I garner, your clan is supposed to teach you their secrets and jutsu. Your sensei can’t do that. The school is supposed to teach you the basics 🤷🏽‍♀️. And your sensei is supposed to hone those skills. Take you on missions so you can learn in the field. Train your skills. Find your talents and strengths and enhance them.

As for Gai, Asuma, and Kurenai. I believe they all trained their students in different ways. My girl Kurenai doesn’t get much screen or page time, so you don’t know what she did or didn’t do or the hours she put in with them. Same for Asuma. You only get to see Gai’s team so much because Rock Lee is so awesome Gai is Kakashi’s rival, so more screen time by proxy. That’s not to say Asuma and Kurenai didn’t spend hours upon hours training their squads. Which I believe they did because at the end of the day, the K12 kicked butt and that required intensive training. Remember, all because you don’t see it happening, doesn’t mean it didn’t. They’re all amazing sensei in their own right. If you think about it, all those kids made it to the Chunin Exams, meaning a minimum of 8-9 missions. Remember Iruka tested Team 7 before the exam to see if they were ready. Thinking or hoping someone tested the other teams too. Which means those sensei had to put in time with them.

As for drill sergeant Kakashi, not sure if you’ve ever taken martial arts, but I have/do. Sensei are not the nicest people by any means- out of the dojo, they can be, but on the mat, when training, you might as well have a drill sergeant. They yell in your face, they throw you around (painfully). They want you to be serious and understand the seriousness of it. They are training you to fight and yes, you do learn techniques that can be lethal and how to use weapons irl. So, they have to be serious and they do work with you based on your own skillset. So, there’s some merit to that, historically. So, in a world that’s built around the shinobi system, Kakashi as a drill sergeant-sensei is possible and that doesn’t make him any more/less good or bad than the other sensei. Same for Kakashi as mentor-sensei. I think he became Team Leader Kakashi with the introduction of Team Kakashi, when he acknowledged them as his equal. But at the end of the day, why can’t he be all three? There’s a time and place for each role and no one size fits all approach to teaching. At the end of the day he was trying his best. They all were. And he was a good, but flawed, sensei. They all were.

[elswing]

i've had the new elf OCs for two seconds and i'm already so attached oh my GOD. camnir!!!!!!!!!!! to be fair we spent a year in mass delusion convinced he was celeborn so i'm predisposed to adoring him but it doesn't help that he turned out to be my dream characterisation of galadriel's nerd house husband. you hear The Wise™ i hear slightly dorky, zero social skills, has at least seventeen highly niche interests that he's the world-renowned expert of purely because no one else in their right mind finds them interesting enough to bother learning about

anyway i doubt the show will explore them since they simply don't have time for fully rounded side characters but that just means i get to invent whole backstories and personalities for them in my head >:}

elrond asking galadriel to pick the warriors for the company implies that he was the one who picked the mapmaker, since a fellow scholar would fall under his expertise whereas the combatants would be galadriel's

WHICH!!!!! means that at the very least he knows camnir and has worked with him before. technically that could also mean they're old friends. study buddies????

i think whatever exclusion elrond went through for being peredhel was less outright scorn and more wariness/stiffness because they just didn't know what to make of him, either because of his biological fuckery or the intimidating presence of his heritage. camnir is completely exempt from this simply because he is too oblivious to follow a social norm

also he just. does not care all that much

he's originally a sindar, but he applied for an apprenticeship in lindon after he'd learned all he could from the mapmakers in eryn galen

he was offered a permanent position there after completing it, but in the early days when he thought his time was limited all he wanted to do was study

he and elrond became friends purely because of how much time they both spent in the library. neither of them spoke much and they didn't interact outside of it due to their interests and studies encompassing different areas, but eventually they both settled on the same table and spent many nights in quiet company

he's a little awkward and doesn't interact well with the noldorin elves, and though they view him as a bit of an oddity, most of them chalked it up to "ah, well, he's sindar. maybe that's normal where he's from"

it is not. he loves his home and his people, and like them he is very attuned to nature and loves passing time with wildlife or in the forests. he did not, however, inherit their love for festivities, as he found them horribly loud and the constant movement made him nervous. he mislikes the unpredictability of them

this is also why he was so drawn to mapmaking. he likes the precision and focus they require to draw, and one of the only times he can find inner quiet is when he's making those calculations

he also has a great love of botany. he spent most of his younger years with his nose buried in a book, reading about the plantlife that could be found beyond eriador's borders

he used to enjoy babbling about his findings to his younger sister when she was a baby, or to their grandparents who raised them after they were orphaned in the war

they were happy to indulge him, but if all else failed he would go into the forest and talk to the trees instead

he's very young compared to the other elves in the company, and the only one without much experience in combat. they took one look at him and unanimously went 🫵 baby. baby brother

camnir was fully aware from the start that he was out of his depth, so he asked the others to teach him some fighting manoeuvres.

daemor suggested archery, as he might benefit from a longer range weapon while he was too inexperienced for close combat. unfortunately his aim was comically bad and rían was forced to ban him from coming within three feet of a bow after he accidentally fired three (3) arrows that missed their marks so badly they almost skewered elrond

(elrond was so focused on glaring suspiciously at galadriel & nenya that he didn't notice)

they also had to remind him multiple times not to wander into rían's path while she was wielding a bow just because he wanted a closer look at an interesting patch of moss

he DID prove to be adept at wielding a knife, so vorohil entrusted him with one of his own

he grew very fond of daemor after discovering his love of singing. camnir taught him some drinking songs he remembered from his youth, and daemor spent most of their night-time treks humming them

he was very sad when he died. being shot at and then magically healed disorientated him at first, but the only thing that successfully soothed him was when they promised to stop and give daemor a small funeral ceremony

him, vorohil and rían definitely survive the siege of eregion and go on to help elrond build imladris btw. they reside there all the way through to the third age. no one gets boromir'd full of arrows or written off or dies off-screen. Btw.

[doggoboigaugau]

Stray dog (Part 5)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male reader

Summary: A person from the past appeared in front of Male reader, and they would have to work together on the new mission. It was not a comfortable reunion.

Word count: 3323 words

Warning: Mention of self-h4rm behaviors.

Price had announced that on the next mission your team was going to collaborate with another team from Russia, mainly because the location of the mission would be a little bit challenging, and you would need assistance from people who were accustomed to that kind of condition for safety and efficiency. Informed that the new mission would be a tough one, you and the other men of the team had been training especially hard to prepare for it. Ghost’d been helping you and Roach with improving your close combat skills against big men as your enemies would be the Russian “bears”–a nickname given to them due to their considerable height and exceptionally powerful physique. 

Soap was standing from afar, watching you and Ghost on the sparring ground with amusement as the smaller you tried to pin the towering Brit down. It was then that Price approached him and said, “The Russian team who we’ll work with will arrive at 1400. I have a meeting with the higher-ups concerning the mission at that hour, so you tell Ghost and Y/n to go greet them.”

“Can I tag along, Cap’?” Soap smirked.

“Do whatever the hell you want, just don’t act stupid like usual. Save me some face.” Price shrugged and hurried to leave the room, not allowing Soap a single chance to bite back.

Soap was about to curse at the older man when a roar of applause attracted his whole attention. He turned his eyes back to the sparring ground, and his mouth lifted in a broad, proud smile the moment he saw you sitting on top of Ghost, your hands gripping him by the wrists and your legs pinning those of his own. The recruits were screaming, whistling, and jumping in excitement, which was an understandable reaction of them given all the fear and respect Ghost had earned from the sparring ground during the training. Every time new groups of recruits arrived, in the very first training, that masked man always made sure to literally kick some newbies’ asses in front of everyone as a way to warn them and keep them in the right place. Sometimes some men of higher rankings would challenge Ghost as well, but of course none of them ever won. 

“You won.” Ghost looked up at you, his eyes, which were the only thing not covered by his skull mask, softened almost like those of a proud big brother.

“I think you have a soft spot for me, Ghost. You underperform to let me win.” You released his wrists, pouting a bit at the thought of Ghost deliberately letting you win.

Then, your body shuddered as you could feel his touch on your inner thigh, “I never do that for anyone, even if it’s you or Soap.”

His eyes were burning, the man beneath you, and for a moment you were taken back to that early morning in the TV room when his hand caressed your cheek, drew a gentle, burning line from your neck down to your lower back, and then snaked under your shirt to fondle your warm flesh. You jumped, standing up so quick that your body almost lost balance and fell outside of the sparring ring, the alarm run off inside your head as you feared that he might know. He might know so damn well that you had already been awake at the moment he showed love interest in you and your body, and he was also aware you were pretending you hadn’t realized that.

“Sir, are you okay?” A recruit that was standing near the ring held the sides of your arms to help you regain balance. 

“Hah, I’m fine. Thank you.” Your timid and soft nature made you turn your head and smile at him, only for you to find out that this boy was a head taller than you, and from the position that the two of you were in right now, it looked like you were nestling into his embrace.

Your face turned bright red at the realization, but before your brain could come up with the most normal and “no homo” way to sneak out of this awkward situation, a strong hand grabbed the collar of your shirt and lifted you up.

“What the hell–? Ghost, put me the fuck down!” The man dragged you out of the arms of the recruit and down to the ground below the sparring ring. No matter how hard you were punching and kicking him, which was almost nothing to his thick skin, he continued to walk to where Soap was standing, unbothered by your resistance. Soap laughed so hard at the sight of him holding you up like a cat–and you’re a grumpy one–that the man fell to the ground, hugging his belly.

“You’re such a dramatic bitch, Soap. I hate you two.”

“We love you too.” Soap winked at you. “OK, no more jokes. Your dad was just here, Y/n, he told us to welcome the Russian team at 1400.”

“My dad…?” You panicked at the two words, a familiar and frightening face emerged from the depth of your memories and filled your head.

“Who else besides Price? Why do you look so scared?” Soap’s facial expression dropped for a moment, realizing that he might have mentioned a disturbing piece of your past. 

“Nothing. Let’s get lunch before they arrive. Ghost, put me down!” You pretended to miss Soap’s question and came back to throwing your fits and kicks to the larger man who was built like a fridge. 

Fortunately, Soap didn’t intend to pry either, “No, no, don’t put him down hahaha. Let’s get to the kitchen like this.”

“No fucking way! Put me down!!!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Russian team finally arrived. You, Soap and Ghost went to the ground outside of the base where the helicopter would be dropping them. 

“I heard they’re very huge, like you, Ghost.” Soap chatted.

“What with all the fucking tall people.” You mumbled, clearly not amused by the fact you’d keep being the shortest one in any of the teams you were and would be working with. 

“I feel you, boy.” Soap put a hand on your shoulder, and you were almost touched by him trying to be understanding when he proceeded to say, “I used to be the shortest one, but luckily you and Roach have taken my place.” 

“God damn it, Soap Mactavish!!!” You nearly threw yourself at the man, and finally Ghost had to step in between you two to prevent any embarrassing occurrences in front of the very eyes of another team that could forever change the image of Task Force 141 in the stories people had been telling.

The helicopter was roaring above your head, and as it landed, you felt Ghost’s strong hand again on your bare skin, or specifically the nape of your neck. You glowered at him since you knew damn well what this man was thinking that led him to do this kind of gesture, “I’m not gonna be blown away, Ghost.” You couldn’t–and hell you didn’t want to–recall the first time the men of 141 did this to you, being unnecessarily worried about your light weight and slender body, always acting as if you’d be blown away, broken apart, or kidnapped the very moment they didn’t notice.

“Better safe than sorry.” His eyes looked down at you for a few seconds before lifting up to meet those of the Captain of the Russian team who was heading their way.

Ghost obviously heard your murmured curses at him, but chose to ignore to exchange a handshake with the Captain.

“Nice to meet you, the legendary 141. I’m Captain Alfred.” The man smiled amiably. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties and you could almost sense from him the same vibe as from Price. ‘Seriously, are all the Captains like this?’

“Ghost.”

“Of course I know who you are. All the three of you.” He eyed the three of you, from Soap on the left to Ghost in the middle, and then to you. “Especially you, Private Y/n.”

“Huh?” You were lost for a moment. What did he mean by that, especially you?? Were there any bad rumors about you that had been circling around without your notice?

“Why do you look so bewildered?” Alfred chuckled. “My Private has been speaking so fondly of you, Y/n. Ever since he’s transferred to my team. The kid was so shy about sharing his past but you were the only exception. Fyodor, come here!”

Fyodor…

Oh.

Fyodor.

Your heart skipped a bit. It almost felt impossible to breathe normally at that present. For no tangible reason, your vision went blurred and you were taken–no, more like violently hit by a train–back to one of the times in the past that you had been successfully burying deep into your consciousness, or at least it was what you thought so. 

His likable smile. His silly laughter. His stupid humor. His Russian-rich English accent. His breath lingered with the smell of the cheap cigarettes that you two shared your little money to purchase at a convenience store which now had been replaced by a coffee shop. You had fooled yourself that it was easy to forget him, and forget all the slow, calm moments you spent with him outside of that convenience store, talking away all the past trauma, the intolerable pressure life put on the tired shoulders of two young men who were forced into adult lives too soon. You had fooled yourself that it was easy to forget your feelings for him as well as your desire for something between you which was destined to never happen.

And now he was here, in front of you. His strong build and massive body still carried the smell of the exact cheap cigarette brand from when you were close. The version of a world–empty but manageable–inside of you crumbled, and once again you felt like you were the heart-broken boy in that damn night, lonely and heart-wrenchingly pathetic, sitting alone in the balcony at 3AM in the morning, ignoring the fact that you’d have to wake up in two hours for a training to smoke two whole packs of cigarettes to repress your overwhelming emotions. A piece of screwed-up paper sat quietly at your feet that night, and it was from him. Fyodor.

“Hi, Y/n.”

“Fyodor.” You nodded, your face looked as cold and expressionless as ever, till the point that Alfred thought he was seeing a smaller version of Ghost.

“What is this? I thought you two used to be close friends as recruits?” Alfred blurted. He was exactly like a father who was trying to make his child get along with another kid.

Soap shrugged it off, “Well, I guess our boy Y/n here may get influenced a little bit too much by his admirable Lieutenant. After all, Ghost is just a legend here. Everyone wants to be as good as he is.” 

Alfred laughed out loud, “Well, I guess!” 

“Shut up, Soap. Let’s get back to the base.” Ghost said to Alfred.

“Alright boys and girls, follow Lieutenant Ghost.” 

You glowered at Fyodor before turning your back on him and following your Lieutenant. You despised yourself for doing so, seeing that Fyodor was still the kind and quiet boy as he always was, while you just became more and more selfish and sinister day after day for being consumed with bitter jealousy. You knew you were angry at him for nothing, it was not his fault in any way, but you could not stop yourself from doing so. You would never forget that night, being wide awake until the morning after, fighting with the inner demons every fucking second to keep yourself alive from your own hands. Neither could you stop feeling it was not fair for you, trapped with feelings that could never be relieved, while he could go out anywhere, hitting on and getting any girls he wanted. 

It just hurt so bad. 

And you were so fucking stupid for falling for a straight dude, a hot one even, with a smooth mouth that never failed to attract any women.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ghost led all of you to Price’s room. He knocked on the door to inform Price that you had arrived and opened it for everyone to get in. 

“We will have a brief meeting about the next mission, and tomorrow at 0500 we will hop on a helicopter to get transferred to the target location, that’s where we will have some training together to get my team familiar with the weather condition before getting into the real fight.” Price perfectly asserted himself in front of the Russian team with confidence and dominance.

As the meeting went, your eyes locked on Price’s face and the projector screen, but at the same time you couldn’t help watching Fyodor from your peripheral vision. He stood there attentively listening to you two’s Captains, and whenever he was quiet like that, the man always gave off a kind of passively intimidating vibe, like a bear enjoying his peaceful slumber that would turn into a furious monster and easily bite your head off if you dared to disturb his sleep. During the whole meeting, he did not look at you for once, and to be honest, it made you feel horrible. That was just it, right? Everything that used to be going on between you was just a complicated lie that man had been weaving to lead you around like the stupid laughable loser you were. 

“I will always be here for you bro.”

“If there is anything, just tell me. I’ll always try to help you as much as I can.”

“You mean a lot to me.”

“I will never give up on you.”

Lovely words they might sound. But you’d learnt the hard way that those were just downright lies and hollow promises. Your ‘brother-like’ relationship was as fragile as a thread that when the smallest unpredictable thing happened, it tore apart. When you stopped being a useful weapon or a great listener to be taken advantage of and showed your broken heart and bleeding soul, you stopped being of value to him, and he would withdraw his effort put on your relationship and start to hang out with the other recruits.

The funny thing was it was not the worst you had been through, because during your childhood you’d been literally through hell. It was not the reason why you two ended up like this, you asking to be transferred to anywhere but that base and leaving him behind, and him getting over the loss of your presence too quickly by being sent back to his home country, Russia. The real cause of it was because you accidentally fell for him, a straight man who had a pretty impressive number of body counts. You’d known that he was straight right from the start of your situationship, but you couldn’t help it. The way he called your name. The way he looked at you as you shared about your traumatized past with so much care in those dark eyes. The way he seldomly touched your shoulder, grabbed your arm to drag you around. Along with some trivial moments you spent with him that probably meant nothing to him but so much to you. Like when he tried to include you in the conversation with other recruits. Or when he laughed at your jokes. Or when he held the lighter in his big hand, lighting the cigarette that was in between your lips for you. You had never been showered with that amount of intricate care and love from any men before that you felt weak in your knees. You could not help falling for him.

As the meeting was announced over, you almost stormed out of the room. Tears were threatening to brim over your eyes and you could not afford anyone to see that, especially Fyodor. You turned your back to everyone else there so fast, and as a result you missed the worried look of your team, as well as Fyodor’s.

Running to somewhere quiet and normally no one would pass by, you put your trembling hand into your pocket, fumbling for the pack of cigarettes to try to put yourself together by smoking it away. And before you knew it, the head of the cigarette was already pressed against the skin of your arm. You exhaled in relief, feeling thankful that the temporary pain on your flesh always succeeded in repressing the agonizing pain inside your heart. You threw that extinguished cigarette down to the ground and violently stepped on it, as if it was that same piece of paper that Fyodor sent you on that night, almost begging you to call him back to talk and resolve whatever conflict you two were finding yourselves in. You lit another cigarette, and were about to press it on your arm against until a strong hand grab the wrist of your hand that was holding the cigarette.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You heard the angry howl from the Brit.

“Let me go.” You murmured.

“Private, I’m asking you. What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?” Ghost heavily seethed out every word.

“Y/n… why are you doing this?” Soap arrived a few seconds later than Ghost, and in contrast to the masked man, he was trying to be soft to talk you out of this behavior.

“Let me fucking go. Why do you care so much??” Your stomach was burning with how much indignation you were having. Sensing the Brit’s grip on your wrist was as firm as a rock, you growled in your throat and bared your teeth at the two men like a disturbed stray dog. 

“Why do you keep pushing us away then? Why do you refuse our care and love?” Soap reached out his arm to touch you in an attempt to somehow calm you down, but quickly withdraw it back as he saw you set your jaw.

“I don’t fucking need your kindness! Whatever the fuck you’re doing, it’s only out of pity. Now let me the fuck go!!!” You got extremely violent and began to do absolutely anything to make the Brit let you go. You screamed at him, scratched his arms, punched his face, kicked his legs. Your aggressiveness definitely took the two men aback as they wondered how much rage must be stored inside that small body of you to make you behave like an absolute wild animal. 

“What is going on here?” Price and Alfred arrived at the scene, and behind him was the rest of the two teams, which certainly included Fyodor. 

You could see how he was looking at you at the moment. Bewildered eyes and a terrified face. Everyone else here was with those kinds of expressions. Nice. Absolutely fucking nice. Now you were like a fucking joke in front of everyone. The utmost shame and anger filled your whole body and made your blood boil, and suddenly you were fueled with the most destructible power ever–the primitive force when an animal was pushed near the verge of extinction, when it realized that if whatever was happening kept happening, it would die. And that was the scariest power ever, what one could do when they realized they had nothing else to lose. 

You could not remember much about what occurred after that. Everything flashed before your own eyes, and the only two things that your five senses could make out of was the pained expression on Simon’s face and his reddened eyes. Another thing was how you run off from that place where everyone was surrounding you and watching you as if they were the concerned citizens and you were the rabid stray dog being restrained by officers from the animal control and welfare service in the broad daylight.

to be continued...

:)) the reason why this part is so long i bc im having the second mental breakdown in the month and have come back to skipping meals and smoking 2 packs of cigarettes every day.

Taglist: @q8852p