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seyaryminamoto · 10 months

Note

When you posted the first chapter of Gladiator how far ahead were you in terms of planning the path the story would take? Are there any great changes from the original outline?

Uuuuuh... X'D

For me, planning stories isn't a linear journey. I DO write linearly as best as I'm able, because if I don't, I'm going to fuck up the continuity of my stories. I really am not good at just writing the big moments first and stuffing the rest of the content in later. All the power to the people who can do that, but the few times I've tried, I fucked up so badly that I always end up having to rewrite the scene I wrote beforehand anyway! So, yeah, I build up on things and try to have all cards on the table by the time I write the big stuff.

But planning? Oh boy, planning is WAY messier than that.

Let me see if I can illustrate this properly:

The core idea for Gladiator was suggested to me by a reader over at FF.net back in February 2013. One day, a month later, I gave the idea a little more thought than I had when he first offered it and my brain went into overdrive when I concocted these specific concepts that, at the time, were the very core of the story:

Azula and Sokka as partners with thicker sexual tension than anything I'd written in my life until then, in a will-they-won't-they situation that, of course, results in "THEY DID". In this setting, the war didn't end on time, meaning that a lot of things changed, including that Azula's got a blank slate in a lot of regards, so both her and Sokka need to be developed from scratch. Initially, I wasn't sure of where exactly I'd take the relationship aside from knowing that they'd obviously get together, but the specific concept of what I'd do with their relationship only arrived sometime later (as in, when I realized I was too addicted to this story and had too much to do with it to "cut to the chase", unlike what certain people wanted me to do). Also, of course, major potential to make them an epic battle couple, something I'd never gotten the chance to write them as until then, so big plus there!

Their biggest rival throughout the story would be Toph, banking on a very different portrayal than the fandom usually likes in Sokka and Toph's dynamics: she would be the big enemy inside the league that he struggles the most with defeating because, let's be real, it feels like no one could have ever imagined that Sokka could ever beat Toph in a fair, one-on-one battle until I outright wrote it in the final arc of Part 2 X'D Hence, I figured that giving him that HUGE initial goal to pursue (defeating Toph) would give us a solid story thread to follow for a long time.

Iroh as Toph's sponsor because of The Chase and their canon bond, with Toph basically being Iroh's biggest fan in the Gaang due to their bonding scene in that episode. I would then be expanding on a bond that, back in the day, was a fandom favorite and that, these days, seems to have gone completely under the radar because it feels like nobody even TALKS about it anymore. It's kinda taken for granted, I'd say?

Combustion Man as THE TOP DOG of the Ranking. The final hurdle both Sokka and Toph need to outdo to become the best gladiators in the league. Why are they trying to do that? In Toph's case, she loves fighting, this story basically gave her a chance to go wild in that sense and measure herself against all kinds of enemies. In Sokka's case? As proposed by that reader's initial pitch, he'd be forcefully taken from the Fire Nation and would want to go home: his deal with Azula solidified then as the reason why he wants to be #1. Once he wins and beats Combustion Man, Azula will consider their contract fulfilled and she will let him go back to the Water Tribe.

Zhao as Combustion Man's sponsor because I needed someone relevant to do it, it didn't feel right to just make an OC for a role so important, back in the day, and in this setting, Zhao wouldn't have died/vanished in the NWT so he was available for my needs -- all of which then led me into building a backstory where Azula held some manner of resentment towards Zhao that pushed her further in her need to find a gladiator and become the best sponsor in the league.

These five story elements were the first things that came to mind. As I liked the idea of Azula and Sokka having an immensely conflictive relationship at first, where they couldn't trust each other 100% but they LIKED each other way more than they wanted to, I switched the "Sokka gets captured by randos" from the original pitch to "AZULA captures Sokka", and that resulted in a LOT of extra chaos than what was part of the story's original concept :'D I'd dare say the main positive element about this was that the story felt more dynamic in the second chapter (when they meet for the first time) than it would have if Sokka had been caught by any other Fire Nation military officer. It even puts forward the deepest layer of rivalry in the story too: the one person in the Fire Nation settlement who could have outdone Sokka is Azula. If he had faced anyone else. he might have had chances of success... but not when he faced her.

This, then, means that Azula HERSELF is a big goal and hurdle Sokka has to overcome. Partly, their relationship would've granted Sokka the means through which he could achieve that goal, but the point is that, from very early on, I realized that I wanted the story to chronicle the gradual journey of how Sokka went from... uh, a hundred to infinity X'D because no, he wasn't a zero, he just wasn't THAT good just yet. I wanted this journey to become a full exploration of Sokka's potential as a warrior until he was strong enough to go toe to toe with Azula and defeat her one day...!

... And once I realized that, one of the first core scenes of Gladiator came into shape. As in, the day Sokka finally defeated Azula.

Also known as chapter 96 :')

On the day Sokka beats her, EVERYTHING changes. This change is primarily fueled by the fact that he DOESN'T want to defeat her, at that point. He is so done with their frequent conflicts when the one thing he REALLY wants is... her. And Azula wants HIM. So when he impulsively kisses her instead of dealing a killer blow...! Yeah, uh... pfft. God, I had done so little plotting of their character arcs that I ACTUALLY thought, back then, that there'd be tension in terms of the readers thinking "omg, is he going to kill her?!" ... yeah, that was dead in the water so fast x'D I sincerely doubt ANYONE ever imagined that he'd do that when that scene came around, but you asked about how the plotting went in the initial stages of the story, pretty sure this specific hilarious tidbit illustrates that fairly well x'D anyway, Azula surrenders and the whole underlying theme of a war between them finally gets resolved in the best way it could! :'D

But... how would THAT particular fight sequence come about?

And that's where the lead-up to the scene started to take shape! Sokka has been trying to beat Toph, but he can't! She beats him when it FINALLY looks like he might win. When that happens, Sokka seems to be ready to give up on everything, and Azula lashes out at him because she won't let him quit on her just like that. BINGO!

... And that, dear asker, was the first genuine scene and arc plotting that I did for Gladiator.

After this? I thought Sokka would go on to fight Combustion Man after a final fight with Toph in which he finally beats her. This fight with Toph, back then, was bound to take place within maybe a few months of his last defeat at her hands, I thought, but with the power of getting laid, Sokka was totally going to kick ass this time and then go on to defeat the BIG DEAL, COMBUSTION MAN HIMSELF.

And then he'd kill him. Paying a bit of homage to canon :')

It slowly came together, however, that a fight against Combustion Man quite so soon after defeating Toph was probably not going to be... well, completely reasonable unless the situation REALLY called for it for... some reason. While I'm not entirely sure that I came up with this right away, it probably wasn't over a week after I started plotting the story that I figured that Iroh would vindictively tell Ozai about Azula and Sokka's relationship after witnessing what he shouldn't have witnessed when they celebrated their triumph over Toph a little more enthusiastically than would have been appropriate :'D Then, since Combustion Man would be serving, in a sense, as Ozai's executioner of bad gladiators for sponsors who need a lesson, he'd be the one tasked with killing Sokka only for Sokka to kill him right back (?)

At this point? There was no Xin Long. The idea of Sokka killing Combustion Man through a volatile bomb predates Xin Long! I boldly snuck in a reference to how Sokka would defeat Combustion Man as early as chapter 2 because I'm crazy and wanted to make it a useful callback in future chapters, unaware that "future chapters" meant ALMOST 250 CHAPTERS LATER! X'D Anyway, point is, I wanted Sokka to defeat Combustion Man through different means than in canon, seeing how in canon he had advantages he wouldn't have had in this story (this is a controlled environment, a one-on-one fight, there's no cover where Sokka can objectively hide, he wouldn't have the opportunity to just fuck up Combustion Man the exact same way, he's not going to fall to his death, for there's no abyss nearby...). So, I came up with the volatile bomb for that purpose, and that tells you that I spent around 7 years with the image of Combustion Man burning to his death living rent free in my head before finally writing it :'D

OKAY! So! What else did I come up with...?

I think Sokka and Azula's first kiss was relatively early plotting too. The idea of Sokka carelessly flirting with Suki in the ring came to mind, and Azula being Azula, she wasn't going to appreciate that at all, so she would have kissed him recklessly in a very inappropriate and territorial bid to stake a claim over him that she really shouldn't have... but Sokka would've thought it was hot and gone with it anyway (?)

Funny reveal time here: back in the day, I was determined to ensure that they wouldn't kiss again after that first kiss, not until they were ready to bang in chapter 96. Can you believe I thought I'd have the self-restraint to pull that off? x'D I laugh at my innocence in those regards to this day.

The second kiss I planned, probably MONTHS later, was actually the one on the way to the Slate. I wanted them to go out of control at one point and for them to be like "omg that was very inappropriate of us! How could we! But omg does that mean you like me tooooo?"

And isn't it HILARIOUS that my plotting was soooo naïve that I STILL didn't realize how far the early chapters would take them in their relationship? x'D

This, in a nutshell, is the exact reason why I CAN'T write out of order: if I'd written the Slate's trip situation as early as when I first thought about it? You can bet it would've made zero sense with all the character progression we saw through the rest of the story. And then I would have had to rewrite it anyway :')

Xin Long, I won't lie, was a bit of a whim on my part, no doubt motivated by my frustrations with canon and how Azula seemed to only get screwed over. So I said "she gets whatever the hell she wants in Gladiator because I hate the world" and once the idea of helping her find a dragon came to mind, I just rolled with it (?) It took me a while to actually integrate Xin Long with the Rough Rhinos arc, I wasn't sure about when I'd introduce him once the idea came to mind, but there was no better chance than to do so while Sokka and Azula were lost in the forest.

About other stuff, I liked the idea of Piandao training Sokka more extensively than in canon, but I didn't want him to be Sokka's host FOREVER because that meant less chances for Sokkla interactions. So... I had to get rid of him.

Believe it or not, I didn't sort out the in-world reasons to explain why I'd gotten rid of him until well around 3-4 years into plotting the story :')

Piandao's connection to Ursa felt natural after I really started thinking about it, but that took AGES to properly plot. Initially? I just needed him to go away. And in a sense, the excuse was that Iroh was on his way home, meaning, there was a Grand Lotus near the Fire Lord's court, way closer than Piandao ever was, so he didn't NEED to be there anymore.

... And that kind of led into Zuko.

While I was absolutely overtaken by the wild plotting involved in soooo many other aspects of the story, my good friend @jordanalane, no longer active on tumblr or the fandom, put up with my rambling about ALL THESE IDEAS and went "Yay! This story sounds fun! What's going on with Zuko here?"

Me, internally: "... Well shit I forgot about Zuko."

I won't say that she singlehandedly set up Zuko's journey in Gladiator, but saying that she gave me about 65% of the ideas for what I'd do with him would probably be fairly accurate, unless the percentage is larger than I thought. I actually toyed with the idea of setting up Zuko and Aang on a way bigger, political journey that we'd only occasionally glimpse while we focused on Sokka and Azula's partnership within the Fire Nation culture and all the gladiatorial chaos. Very early on, the plan seriously wasn't for Sokka to become... well, what he is now xD So I was genuinely going to leave all the heavy lifting of the war to Aang and Zuko because, ultimately, the Fire Nation has to be defeated and they're the ones who usually get up to that, right?

I think I've mentioned that, post Combustion Man's death, I had no idea wtf I was going to do. Like... I knew that was far away. I knew I'd have the time (or at least, I faithfully believed I would) to figure out what I'd do before we got to that point. I absolutely knew the story could not possibly end there.

So at this stage of plotting, I toyed with Blue Spirit Zuko joining the Gladiator League briefly as a destabilizer within the system (and then I started writing Zuko in the story and realized that... no. There was just no way this guy wanted anything to do with the Gladiator League as a fighter or even as a sponsor. Nope). Then, I thought he should go south (though I had no idea how I'd get him there!), where he'd find Aang eventually! There was a veeeery small window of time in which I considered keeping Aang at 12-years-old, which would've made Kataang waaaaay too unsettling since Katara would've been over 20, and I thought maybe Zuko and Katara could be a thing? But the idea never really solidified into anything I wanted to write between those two, it felt like an older Katara would've focused even more on protecting Aang (becoming the actual mother figure the fandom and even canon are obsessed with adultifying her into at 14) because she'd be too aware of how young and fragile he was...!

... But then? I thought it would've actually made sense for Aang to be more than just the little boy who saves the day and everyone protects:

Why not make him an opportunity for Katara to learn her Tribe's traditional and lost waterbending styles?

If I aged up Aang, and made it so he had been frozen in the South Pole, not out of sheer chance but out of him actually BEING IN THE AREA when the storm struck him? That could do the trick! If his journey as a waterbending master was already underway by the time he was frozen, then he'd have two elements down... and he could be Katara's teacher instead! While there were downsides to this decision, of course, it actually made a ton of sense to me mainly because I don't love the way it feels like Katara, in canon, never truly reclaimed the traditional southern style of waterbending. This, then, meant that Aang could provide her with a connection to her own people and their past, something he can't offer her in canon.

So! With that in mind? I aged up Aang and made him 19, and Kataang could be preserved and be developed this way. Part of it is also motivated by my genuine confusion, when I first watched the show, over the old Air Nomad leaders deciding that Aang, already declared an airbending master, "needed to master more advanced airbending techniques" right after revealing that he was the Avatar. I mean... if he's already a master, doesn't it make more sense to send him to the next element he's supposed to learn? Especially considering it's water? And considering that the storm clouds in the horizon were coming from the Fire Nation, so the more water to fight them, the better? :'D

So yep, that was another reason why I made the choices I made.

Lo and behold, slowly and surely, the core bones of Gladiator were starting to take shape: Azula and Sokka start as contentious allies, joining forces for a common goal and very different motivations, all of which would lead them into falling in love over time. Their biggest threats in the league are Toph and Combustion Man, but perhaps bigger still would be Iroh, who would rat them out to Ozai (I'm 100% serious when I say this specific element of the story has been part of Gladiator's DNA since the very start, the whole journey I threw Iroh into was basically "how do I get him to the point where he would be THAT pissed off as to do something like this with no regard as to the consequences of his own actions?"). Zuko, Katara and Aang would more or less stick to being involved in fighting the war, they wouldn't be all that connected to the Gladiator League or anything to do with that.

Worth noting that my friend started to come up with ideas for Zuko and Suki to get together and make sense as a couple in the story, and while at first it was just a casual thing that I figured would work alright, her ideas became... so much more poignant than I ever imagined they would be.

About one year, maybe a year-and-a-half, after I started plotting Gladiator, I actually figured out what my endgame would be.

At that point, I actually knew where we were going and I started to focus my attention on plotting how to get there. New concepts started to pop up, things that I absolutely hadn't thought about from the get-go: I DID have my alternate idea on what was going on with Ursa since ages ago (the swamp concept, as you'll likely have read already...), and after The Search thoroughly disappointed me, I chose to stick with that path without looking back. But while this was in the background, something I knew had happened but that I doubted I'd be able to work into the story productively, I realized it would actually be something I could explore IN the story once Part 3 stopped being a big nebulous blob of mystery for me. I decided that Sokka and Azula would be torn away from each other, that HE would be the one leading the war faction out of the South Pole and into the chaos of war, that Piandao's tile for Sokka, mainly done as homage to canon back when I wrote that, could actually represent something FAR GREATER if Sokka joined forces with the White Lotus to fight the Fire Nation and return to Azula...!

... And one of my most evil advisors of those years also very casually inceptioned into my head the very wicked idea of pregnant Azula in the middle of this mess :'D

I could go on and on, honestly! I have one funny thing to bring up, and it's that the scene from the Northern Air Temple arc, where Sokka tells Azula his true fears and feelings about his family, how he doesn't think he's worthy of going home and is genuinely apprehensive of returning because he thinks his dad will be disappointed in him? That... was repurposed from a very early idea I had for Sokka and Azula, once they were properly together, traveling to Whaletail Island, and spending a casual day/night in bed talking about a lot of things, which then led into Sokka talking about his family and what he actually felt about them, which Azula wasn't supposed to know about until then :'D That was, ironically, the origin point for the Whaletail Island arc. The scene that originated it just... never happened x'D

As you may be able to tell... the progress of their relationship, the evolution and development of the characters, caused a LOT of things to move forward way faster than I thought they would. Hence, Sokka wound up telling Azula about all those things WAAAY sooner than I originally envisioned. By then, Whaletail's scene was kind of broken down and spread into other situations and arcs instead! Again: this is why I can't write out of chronological order xD

One funny thing to look back on was my confident belief that Sokka and Azula would spend the bulk of Part 1 doing a mutual pining thing where neither one realized the other felt the exact same way about them... when I was in the middle of their best conversations in the Rough Rhinos' arc, the THIRD ARC of the entire story, I was like "yo... they're 100% aware of the fact that they're down bad for each other already. There's literally no mystery about how they feel, THEY OBVIOUSLY ALREADY KNOW." And that hilariously changed A LOT of how things developed later, because I sure as heck didn't plan for them to kiss in the Rough Rhinos arc at all (it kinda happened on a whimsical plotting session, a few days before writing it :'D). I did NOT plan for them to kiss at Ty Lee's backyard, either (oh, this one was basically them getting out of my control and doing whatever they wanted, same evil advisor I mentioned earlier told me to go with it while I cried to her about how I apparently just COULDN'T STOP THEM FROM MAKING OUT???)...

Ember Island's arc, so poignant and crucial and such a KEY element in their relationship, was probably plotted well after... six months since the original idea of Gladiator came to my head. I did not think about this one until A WHILE into writing the story already. I was probably almost done posting the Rough Rhinos by the time the full concept of that arc materialized in my head! The beloved Pairs Tournament arc? That was 100% a reader's suggestion, from an ask I got one day! x'D I told them that sounded like a fun concept, and then, once I pondered it some more and fleshed it out, it ended up becoming a highlight for me, it's gone on to become a fan favorite arc of the entire story, as well as The Arc where Toph finally became friends with Sokka and Azula properly!

So. Yep. Basically... I do not plot anything linearly. I can't. If I did, I wouldn't have a clue of where I'm going and I'd lose my steam so fast that I would just crumble under the weight of not seeing the point of what I'm doing. I think I can write without a huge endgame, to a fault, with less demanding stories... but Gladiator was ALWAYS so much bigger than anything my brain could wrap around back when I first started to plot this story, and it's no joke to say that it's really taken me ten years to not only write it, but actually plot the story as thoroughly as I can (hell, only a few months ago I got struck by lightning with A PLOT TWIST that I just wrote yesterday! A crazy development I absolutely HAD NOT thought about, and that I fell in love with completely when it came to mind!). The amount of threads and possibilities and ideas that I've been juggling for AGES is probably a little crazy, honestly.

But yeah, in short, it's wild to think that even though I absolutely planned several things YEARS before they came into fruition, ultimately, the final arc of Part 1 came together before the first one, in many senses. It came together before every arc, basically, and all the material in between was just a matter of building a huge, solid bridge to the point where Sokka and Azula would finally act on their feelings. The process through which I got there absolutely changed me in a thousand ways, my ideas and my plans often wound up switched up whenever a random, crazy idea came up, and I thought to myself "... and why not?" after a few moments of indulging it and being on the brink of discarding it.

As another fun tidbit of information? That's kind of what happened with something as vital to the story as Rei has been, throughout Part 3: she is a character I came up with, not really on the fly, but at relative random once I was planning on having Azula seek Zhao for help over Toph's predicament back in Part 2. I loved the idea of a teenage, dorky maid who had NOT expected to meet the Princess, but initially? She's nothing to make a fuss over because we've been seeing heaps of people who are starstruck by Azula by then. She only stands out for having the dorkiest reverence ever x'D and part of why she stands out too, instead of getting written off, initially, as Zhao's nameless, aimless home staff, is because I had thought about the potential of making her Zhao's illegitimate daughter at this point in time! But I DIDN'T go all in with it on her first appearance... because I wasn't sure. Because I didn't think I could juggle ANOTHER plot point and new character on top of everything I had to set up (at this point I was particularly preoccupied by figuring out how to establish Shaofeng and Renkai as important characters for my future purposes with both of them :'D). So I said "nah, you know what? She's just the cute and quirky maid. We like her. Zhao is decent to her. He doesn't need to be her father."

... About two weeks before going all in on the Hahn's Gambit arc, I was pondering Part 3. The idea of Rei being Zhao's illegitimate daughter returned to mind. My impulse was dismissing my own thoughts, frankly, along the lines of "I mean, wtf would she even do once Zhao becomes Crown Prince? She'd be abandoned in the estate anyway, like, what, she would inherit it or something?" and then... then it struck me. I realized that she could very well just come with him. As his maid. And then, she could become Azula's maid...

... What followed was about three days of plotting that suddenly brought LIFE to Azula's Part 3 early storyline and I suddenly could not BELIEVE I had ever let myself think I could let go of this character and make nothing of note with her x'D

The situation with Rei is, indeed, something that happened often throughout Gladiator. Some ideas I've clung to, some ideas I've dismissed, some ideas have terraformed the groundwork I'd already set up... and instead of panicking about it? I've done what I could to work with it. Hence, that the will-they-won't-they did NOT include the agony of "but would he/she return my feelings?!" wound up being a result of the build up, something I didn't plan all along but that worked perfectly for my purposes. The idea of making Sokka and Azula's relationship not be just some powerful high, the be-all-end-all of the story once it was crystallized and once they were together? That wasn't immediate, either... but it certainly came along as a result of my greed, I'd dare say x'D

When I realized how long this story was going to be, I told myself this fic was basically the landscape upon which I could very well turn all my Sokkla dreams come true. And it wasn't ONLY the Sokkla dreams related to their fluff, or smut, or angst... no, it was even the fact that, for ONCE, I could build a story where Sokka and Azula were NOT the B-story to Zuko and Aang's A-story, unlike how it might have felt in most any other story, hell, even in my long defunct plans for how to conclude the story (and thank God that I dismissed that mess, honestly). Suddenly, I realized I could bring the ENTIRE Avatarverse together, reconfigure every character, repurpose as many of them as I cared to... and create a scenario where the story, every single major beat of it, was connected to THEM. Where the battle against Ozai was no longer some distant conflict with unexplored emotional stakes, it's a PERSONAL one, not only for Azula but for Sokka as well. And while I'm not going to pretend that I'm the only person who has ever rewritten ATLA to this extent without centering the story on Aang or Zuko, I can certainly say that I've never seen anything of this scale elsewhere (... which can be kinda literal too, considering this is, indeed, the longest fic in the fandom...).

But I REALLY didn't start out with that idea in mind. Back when the concept came to me... I really didn't know where I would be going, honestly. I knew this would be a HUGE commitment, but I didn't know how big, exactly. Now that I do know, that I have the full scope of the story in my grasp... I can tell you that yeah, I had no idea what I was getting into and I'm glad I jumped in anyway x'D

If anyone gets all the way through this long post and wants advice on how to cope with ridiculously long stories that are that difficult to plot? I think that my advice would definitely be to give it time, let it simmer, find the moments, the scenes you REALLY look forward to writing. Don't settle for powering towards the endgame without advancing the story beforehand: push things at other points of the story and if, when you reach your big story climax, you find that the leadup is different from what you were expecting you'd have in your hands, once you got there? ... Roll with the punches. Reconfigure the scene in your head. Improvise, to a fault, and build up FURTHER on what you already had... because the likelihood is that the outcome is going to be a thousand times better than your OG plans were. Don't let yourself get lost in enforcing a plot stubbornly: nothing makes a story come to life as vividly as surfing along with the new highs and changes that hit you at the spur of the moment, figuring out how to make your story the best it can be. I won't pretend Gladiator is anywhere close to perfect... but after just looking back on everything that has led us to where we are? I can definitely say I'm very proud of this story's journey, very proud of having jumped into this madness even when my vision of it, at the time when I started plotting, could have never informed me of every crazy thing I'd end up achieving with this story. While some important elements of the story 100% stayed true to my OG concept... I'm really glad that I let myself change certain aspects because it enriched everything I was doing well beyond the scope of what I could grasp back then.

Anyway. Sorry for the long rambling. I got a little hyped haha. Thanks for the ask!

#anon #gladiator #this is a LOT of words too #look this is break day #I finished arc 23 of part 3 #... I only have 10 left to write #*panics*#*hyperventilates*#*gets hyped*#so yeah I answered a few asks and I have a bunch more left #I am sorry to everyone I haven't answered yet #I'll try to get to it soon!#but honestly anon thank you for that chance to ramble about the past #that was a real fun trip down memory lane

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sunderedhearts · 2 years

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@mirageformed | steve & billy at the bonfire party 🍂

Parties in the woods were nothing new; kids had been drinking and getting up to no good for generations, and the forest kept things nice and private. The town was well aware of what was going on, but it didn’t seem as anyone even cared anymore. With what seemed like everything suddenly on the decline and the population falling under a blanket of despair, was there even any point into breaking up these get togethers? So a bunch of kids decided to get drunk and high and mess around--who cared? Theft and destruction was hardly even looked into; a little party wasn’t going to even make a blip on the police’s radar.

When Steve had first heard about the party he had had his share of misgivings; the last party he went to had ended in disaster. Nancy had gotten drunk and broken his heart, giving way to weeks of awkwardness and pain until Steve realized she had actually gone as far as to cheat on him with Byers of all people. Since then everything had changed, and Steve had withdrawn, his life slowly spiraling into nothingness. But Billy was back in town and everyone seemed interested in the bonfire--how could Steve say no?

Unfortunately things had soured almost immediately. It hadn’t taken long for Steve to realize Nancy had also shown up, causing hot anxiety to prickle across his skin. His love life had been non-existent since the break up, and while he had told Robin that he was over his ex, seeing her smiling by the soft glow of the fire made him realize what a lie that had been. She was always going to be a part of his life, his first love, the girl that stole his heart and crushed it between her fingers. A large part of him knew better than to try and even talk to her, but after several beers Steve could no longer differentiate between a good idea and a bad one. Talking to Nancy suddenly seemed like the best idea there was.

Four beers might not have seemed like a lot, but Steve’s tolerance was nothing spectacular, never really had been. Since that fateful Halloween party, Steve had more or less quit drinking, only looking into it when he couldn’t sleep--or just couldn’t stand to think anymore. These days two drinks left him feeling buzzed. Three put him on a log by the fire, and four brought him to Nancy, his dark eyes attempting to focus on her slightly blurry form. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew better, but the words were already tumbling out before he could stop himself.

Before long the party effectively came to a halt, quieting and drawing in close to see what the argument was about. Normally Steve would have cared, would have been mortified, but the alcohol had turned his mind fuzzy, switched off his better judgement. If the onlookers wanted a show, then Steve would make sure to give them one.

“Steve, that’s enough, stop--”

“Why? Why should I stop? Just because you’re not having fun?” Steve made a derisive noise and gave a roll of his eyes. “Jesus, you must be real fun at parties. Oh, wait--no you’re not. And here I was thinking you’d want the truth since you’re the mature adult here...”

“The truth? Steve, you’re drunk--”

“Oh, that’s familiar.” Biting laughter tore out of him, dark and humorless. “Because--because I remember when you got drunk and told me I was bullshit. That you didn’t love me and that you were just using me until someone else came along. And guess what? That was all true, Nance! Guess I am bullshit! But I don’t run off and cheat with the first guy who looks at me!”

Several of the party-goers broke out into chatter, some seeming to stand behind Steve, most in support of Nancy. Overall it just seemed the majority of the onlookers were enjoying the drama unfolding, like some bizarre soap opera. Robin’s voice called out from somewhere behind him, but Steve ignored her, focusing instead on the angry look on Nancy’s perfect, prim little face.

“Oh, wait--sorry. Sorry. I forgot; I’m not allowed to be the one who’s a mess. I don’t get to break apart and be the one falling down drunk. That’s your job. What’s wrong, Nance? You don’t like being the one to get shit-faced anymore? Did going off to college make you even more perfect and popular? God, whatever. You’re the one that’s bullshit. I’m getting another beer--maybe if I drink enough I can bring myself down to your level and forget I ever loved you, too.”

#mirageformed #steve is causing A Scene™️#get him in the car please #before he falls into the fire omg #not like nancy didnt have it coming #everyone just watching like 👀#sadasdsasf #📼 —— 𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝑒𝓁𝓈𝑒┊(verse — nitw.)

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neonbitemarks · 1 year

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Lex x Ryland - Archived Thread

“Judas’s on a warpath, Scout’s stirrin’ drama with Dainn, Leora and Roman are bein’ all weird again, and Genesis just showed up. Way I’m seein’ it, we should probably take a small campin’ trip before we get dragged into the not so fun chaos.”

“Uh-oh, what’d I miss, or is Mercury in gatorade again? Either way, you know I’m never gonna say no to a little roadtrip just me and you. Besides, we still got some makin’ up to do from me being away from here for a bit, and it’s the perfect time of year for sleepin’ under the stars.”

“Not that he needs a reason, honestly, but I think him and Leora got into it and your sister fights dirty. Remind me not to piss that one off because I was not expectin’ her to go that low.” It had been impressive and more than a little terrifying and he never wanted to be on the receiving end of that girl’s ire. “It really is. Figured we can head up north, look for a lake to camp out by and ignore the rest of the world for a couple of days.”

“Okay, spill. I need all the gory details,” Lex laughed, knowing pretty well what Leora was capable of, but he always enjoyed hearing all the gossip when he hadn’t been there to personally witness what went down.

“I hear Montana’s pretty all year round, but especially in the summer. I mean, they do call it Big Sky Country, right? I’m sure we can find a spot to camp where there aren’t any rednecks within spittin’ distance who might object to us being there.”

“I don’t know all the details, but I did hear her callin’ him a ”bottom feeding, low life coke head with a shrimp dick.“ and throwing in his face that Chayton was the only one that actually liked his sorry ass. I don’t want to know what for shit she would say about me if I was on her bad side.” And he had no intentions of finding out if he could help it.

“Montana? Yeah, I think we can manage that. Lay out under the stars like we used to on the good nights. Just us, the sky, and a campfire. Can’t think of nothin’ better.”

“God damn, right for the jugular, huh,” Lex whistled, grinning broadly as he tried to picture the look on Jude’s face when Leora called him that, Lex figuring there would have been the smallest moment of shocked offense before Judas got angry and said something stupid in retaliation.

“Kinda feels like it’s been a long time since we last did that. Gotta admit I’ve been missing life on the open road, to be honest. Not that I don’t love having a real roof over my head, but there’s not a whole lot to do or see in a ghost town in the middle of the desert.”

“Like I said, remind me not to piss that one off.” He was honestly surprised the argument between Leora and Judas hadn’t come to blows, but he would have easily put his money on Leora. He had a feeling she fought dirty no matter what kind of fight she was in.

“I don’t think we’ve gone camping, really camping, since we got here. Never thought I’d miss sleeping in the back of the truck as much I do,” he admitted, but it had been his home since he was nineteen. “Pretty sure I still have most of the on the road gear together so packing everything up shouldn’t take long?”

“Yeah, things have been kinda busy, haven’t they?”

Between everything that had happened in staying off the radar of Ryland’s family and Lex finding out he not only had a bunch of family he didn’t even know about, but that he wasn’t nearly as human as he was raised to believe, it had been difficult to make plans to go traveling anywhere for a while.

“How long do you wanna go for?”

“Just a little bit.”

It had been challenging, uprooting his entire existence and learning to adjust to being around the kind of people he had been trained to, well, murder since he had been a child, but he was doing his best. Lex was one thing, the others, well, he was still trying to figure all of that out.

“I was thinking at least a three-day weekend, maybe a little longer if the weather holds up. Unless you have something else in mind?”

“I was thinkin’ more along the lines of a week? Maybe more?” Lex answered, figuring that they might as well make the most of it if they were going to drive all the way out to Montana, since, depending on where in Montana they ended up, it was a minimum of a thirteen hour drive straight through just to get across state lines.

“I mean, we could even stop off at Yellowstone on the way there? Break up the drive time a little with some sight seeing?”

“We’re definitely going to need to bring the trailer if we’re going to be out that long so we can bring extra gas for the truck and firewood. Your mom said we were free to use that any time we wanted to, might as well take advantage of it and not need to see any other people on our trip,” he suggested, wanting to have Lex completely to himself for as much of the time as they could manage.

“We’ll be timing it for the Perseid’s meteor shower too. Can’t think of a better time to be camping out.”

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” Lex agreed, more than happy to make the trip more of a proper road trip vacation than just a weekend campout.

It wasn’t just the sleeping out under the stars and the scenery aspect that Lex was looking forward to. Getting some time alone with Ryland without any interruptions, and a proper chance to catch up on other things also drove the appeal of staying out a while longer.

“Just you and me, the open road and hopefully nobody else around for miles.”

Ryland wrapped an arm around Lex’s waist and pulled him close, stealing a soft, slow kiss. The solace of their bedroom was fine, soundproofed even, but it didn’t beat the solitude that being on the road gave them, ensconced in the cab of the truck while the rest of the world passed from the window.

“I did get a new mattress for the back of the truck. No more waiting for the air one to fill up. And it’s more comfortable.” He had bought it while Lex had been away and his bet had clearly paid off.

Lex hummed against Ry’s lips, melting into the kiss with a sigh.

Oh how he’d missed this while he’d been away, and being reminded just how much made him ache all the more for the attention and affection as he dove his fingers into Ryland’s hair on the back of his head.

“Oh? Well then I guess we’re definitely going to have to give that a good breakin’ in, aren’t we?” he purred with a teasing smirk.

The feeling of Lex’s fingers in his hair was enough to pull a soft groan from Ryland’s lips as he pressed against him more firmly. He hated when Lex was away, but he understood why he had to go. There were just some things that he was better off learning from his family and fae could always teach fae better than anything else could.

“Guess it’s a good thing we’re going campin’ then, ain’t it? Really add onto the plan to make it memorable.”

“Mm, can’t wait…”

That wasn’t an understatement. The more Lex thought about the idea, the sooner he wanted to make it a reality, and he was more than willing to pack up and go that same day if necessary.

“When are we goin’?” he asked, stealing another kiss. “Because I don’t know how long my self control is gonna hold out ‘til I can get you all to myself with no interruptions.”

Ry understoond the imatience because he felt it too. The need to be back on the road, even if just for a week or so, was definitely something he hadn’t been able to shake. Hell, if he had it his way, if it were safe, he’d probably still live out of his truck.

“I’d say how quick do you think we can pack but I know the answer to that. How soon do you think you’re mom’ll be fine about you dipping again since you, ya know, sort of just got back?”

“Honestly, so long as I stick around long enough for dinner tonight, it probably wouldn’t take much more than talkin’ all too casually about making up for lost time for her to be wavin’ me out the door again,” Lex grinned, figuring the last anyone wanted to hear about was how badly he wanted to get his back blown out by his boyfriend.

“I mean, if Leora can gross people out like that, gotta be worth a shot, right?”

“Well that just sounds like a very awkward family dinner,” he laughed, not at all surprised by Lex’s plan. “It’ll probably work though. I mean, everyone tries to push Leora out of the entire bar when she starts. Not that I blame them. I swear she has two modes and they’re both terrifying.”

“So, we can get everything packed before dinner and then take off after if your plan works?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Lex nodded, grinning broadly at the plan.

He wouldn’t go too overboard with grossing everyone out, since he was confident he could just speak directly to Cord anyway and avoid getting too far into that kind of conversation anyway.

“If we head straight up into Idaho and over, we can probably find a nice spot along Snake River to camp tonight, then go on the Yellowstone from there.”

“Okay, was this my idea or yours because that makes it sound like you’ve been wantin’ to bring up hittin’ the road for a bit now too,” he teased, more than happy to follow through with Lex’s suggestion. It would definitely make for a good run and let them get in as much as possible.

“I’ll check in with Del and Peri to make sure there’s no hunters in the areas we’re hittin’. Don’t want to run into any complications.”

It was still weird to be so far out of the network that he actually had to call someone else for intel, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Yeah, I kinda have. Guess it’s ‘cause I missed you so much while I was away and I just want you all to myself again for a bit to make up for it,” Lex admitted, not even remotely hesitant at confessing that he’d been itching for a road trip for at least a couple of months.

“Hopefully there’ll be nobody even the next states over so we’ll be clear of any unexpected issues.”

Sure, Lex knew that it was still risky heading out away from the bar, but staying put in one place for too long always seemed to make him go a little stir-crazy after too long.

“Sounds like we cope with being parted the same way,” he mused, tracing a finger along the edge of Lex’s jaw just to have an excuse to touch him more. “You know all you ever have to do is ask. The odds of me ever saying no to you are slim to none.”

Lex was the center of Ryland’s universe and he would do and give anything just to make him smile for even a second. If he wanted to slip off into the night like they used to, who was he to say no?

“I’ll call Peri and Del on the road and see if there’s anyone between us and our stops so we can make changes if we need to. Promise.”

“Well I’m asking right now,” Lex purred teasingly with a smirk, chasing the physical affection and nuzzling into Ryland’s hand like a cat demanding scritches.

In response, Lex danced his own fingertips lightly over the back of Ry’s neck, tracing little circles there.

“Fingers crossed we’re all clear…”

“Pretty sure I asked first this time,” he countered, a chuckle chasing the words before he was kissing Lex again.

That small, gentle touch was enough to make Ryland shiver and he considered, for a moment, asking to skip dinner entirely just to have an excuse to fall into bed for a few hours. But he knew it would be much better with the kind of privacy that came with how they did camping.

“I don’t know of any issues between here and our destination, so it should be fine.”

The kiss had Lex feeling all the more impatient, and he was sure that Ryland felt the same after them having been apart for so long, so Lex was also considering how much he’d love to skip dinner to get Ry alone and have him all to himself in every way possible.

“I hope it stays that way,” he murmured softly, a little seriousness drifting into his tone at acknowledging how quickly things had gone from bad to worse the last time they hit trouble, but at least they could both be safe in the knowledge that Atticus wouldn’t be a problem for them or anyone else ever again.

#lex:thread #lex:ryland:001

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iwadori · 3 years

Text

Why you break up with the haikyu boys part 2 (Osamu, Iwaizumi, Daichi, Ushijima.)

Part 1 (Atsumu, Oikawa, Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi, Sugawara)

Genre: angst

masterlist

Osamu: “For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know that you...”

You and Osamu were basically arranged to be together, you were best friends from when you were little and your parents thought you were a match made in heaven.

Did you love Osamu? Of course, you pretty much worshipped the ground he walked on.

But there was always a strange look he gave you whenever he mentioned his brother. You never really focused on it, but that was something you took note of.

When you came back home, after a long day of work. You see Osamu sitting in the kitchen alone, with some paper in front of him and a drink in his hand.

“‘Samu Babe!” You exclaim sauntering over to him “How are yo-“

“Don’t.” He said simply, taking a sipping some of his drink (to which you could only assume was some form of hard liquor.)

“Why ‘Samu, what’s wro-“

“You bought tickets to his game.”

“Who’s game?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Y/N, you bought tickets to my idiot of a brothers game in an attempt to slut around under my nose..”

“Samu, that’s not what it was I-“

“I don’t want to hear it Y/N!” He yelled slamming his drink down making you flinch.

“Gosh Samu whats wrong with you. I know that I had a teeny crush on Atsumu when we were kids but it was just a childhood crush. An innocent childhood crush.”

“For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know yo-“

“You know what? That I’ve spent majority of my life, trying to ease your own insecurities and jealousy of your own goddamn brother. How childish can you be Osamu ?”

Osamu eyes opened a bit in realisation, and his lips slightly parted. “But Y/N, you-“

“I what? Brought us tickets to your TWIN brothers final volleyball game, because I wanted him to see the support from his family and friends.”

“I’m sorry Y/N I really a-“

“Don’t.” you say picking up the tickets and turning around “I just thought maybe, just maybe for at least a day you could put your weird feelings towards your brother aside... but I guess you can’t.”

You left the apartment, and got your stuff another day (one where you knew Osamu was at work.)

No you did not end up dating Atsumu, you were most certainly friends and only friends. You did end up going to the game on your own, to cheer on Atsumu who most definitely appreciated it.

You thought you saw a certain Miya twins sitting in the stands at of the game, hiding his face with a baseball cap. Which made you smile a bit...

Well at least he ended up coming to the game.

Iwaizumi: “I just don’t want you Y/N, I never did”

In your second year of Seijoh Highschool, you were approached by a rough looking boy who had a ‘resting bitch face,’ and looked like they were coming to pick a fight with you.

But no, it was just “Iwaizumi Hajime.”

He was very popular throughout your school, as he was vice captain of the schools volleyball team and he was Oikawa Toorus best friend.

So when he approached you that Friday afternoon at your locker, you definitely didn’t know why.

“Y/N..” he said nervously scratching the back of his neck “umm this is for you..”

In his hands was a bar of chocolate and a scrunched up note that read

AN: DID I WRITE THAT NOTE MYSELF, yes yes I did anyways...

You were very surprised at this sudden confession as you and Iwaizumi weren’t in the same social circles and you were definitely not the type of girl that would be on his ‘radar.’

You had a quite unsettling feeling, which made you subconsciously squint your eyes at him. But they soon soften as you saw the nervousness that Iwaizumi was showcasing to you as you were contemplating on you answer.

You got out a pen, shaking the unsettling feeling you had out of your head. And ticked the box “Yes” giving it back to Iwaizumi.

He smiled widely and rushed towards you in an attempts in giving you a hug which went awkwardly wrong leaving you both laughing.

Dating Hajime, wasn’t bad nor good... it’s just what you wouldn’t expect it to be.

There wasn’t much of a change to what your usual school routine was which consisted of: going to lessons and spending break and lunch on your own reading a book.

And technically you were still doing that, but you were now just always with Hajime. Wether it was at lunch or at practice (which he always insisted you go to, also hinting that he would like for you to bring him bentos to practice.) which you did end up doing.

One day, whilst doing your daily “bento delivery,” to your boyfriend, you overhear him talking to his friends; Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

“God I can’t stand her, always running behind me like a lost puppy giving me bentos that I didn’t even fucking as for” he complained, making you gasp.

“Really?” Exclaimed Hanamaki “I know you said she confessed to you one time, but I didn’t know it was that bad?”

“Yeah she’s a stalking bitch, it’s getting annoying.”

“Gosh it’s seems someones getting a taste of the ‘Oikawa Experience’” Matsun said making them all laugh.

You entered the room, furious. “What the fuck Hajime?”

“Woah woah woah, it’s seems your stalkers about iwa, we’ll leave you too it” said Hanamaki, with Matsun following behind him as they leave.

“What do they mean I’m a stalker?”

“Well aren’t you?” He responded with a smirk

“Gosh y/n you’ve been following me about for a while now, dont you think it’s time to stop”

“Bu-But you confessed, with your note and w-“

“Are you sure about that Y/N, cause I don’t really recall ...?”

“Hajime don’t lie, we were dating.. we ARE DATING.”

“Okay Y/N let me fill you in on a little secret,” he said leaning down next to your ear “I don’t want you Y/N, I never did.”

“ but why m-“

“Why you? Because nobody knows Y/N L/N and nobody cares, I can tarnish your name and nobody will give a shit.. and that’s why your an easy target” he said still smiling “ I just wanted to rub it into Shittykawas face that I had my own little “fan club”

You were stunned, frozen in shock as Iwaizumi walks past you to leave the gym, making sure to grab the bento you made him.

“Thanks again for the help, I’m definitely going to miss these bentos!”

You should have listened to your gut feeling from before.

Daichi: “you’re just not marriage material”

Daichi was “the perfect guy,” he was nice to strangers and was helpful to the community and just an all round great guy.

So it was a massive question as to why he went for you, since you were definitely not the girl for Daichi.

“I don’t care what anyone says, your the perfect girl for me” was what he always said.

Even though those statements went out the window whenever his mother got involved.

Daichi’s mum was a strict traditional woman, who believed in family values that went back thousands of years ago.

And she most certainly didn’t like you.

She wanted you to be Daichi’s doting wife, who cooked and cleaned for him. Whilst he works and was the breadwinner of the house.

Although you found no problem with the women that did do this, but this was not for you.

When it comes to meet ups with you, Daichi and his mother. He never told her to stop when it came to the rude comments she made about you, or the times she suggested Daichi go for a more “prim and proper” girl named “Misaki Ayuzawa.”

After the meetings, when his mother was gone, he always tried to reassure that she was wrong and her words didn’t matter.

But you knew they did, that daichi was actually considering some of the things she said about you wether they were true or not.

The tension in your household was strong, since you barely talked to each other anymore. But you had hope for better things...

Until one day, you get a message from Daichi’s mother saying. “It seems Daichi made the right choice, as we all know ‘Mother Knows best.’” With a video attached of Daichi proposing to the one and only “Mikasa Ayuzawa” surrounded by all their high class business friends.

When Daichi got home he yelled, “Y/N, where are you I was at this business party at this fancy restaurant and I got some nice things for you to try!”

“Business party?” You say rolling your eyes “Or Engagement party.”

The shocked look on his face made you smile, as you both knew now that he was caught.

“Fuck you daichi! Why would you do this without even tell me !” You yelled, tearing up a bit.

“Y/N, it wasn’t meant to go down like that it was just I was talking to my mu-“

“Fuck your mum! And you!”

“I’m sorry Y/N you’re just not marriage material an-“

“I don’t care what you’ve got to say, you’ve done it and it’s over with”you said leaving.

“I’ll come back to get my stuff later,” you say “oh and congratulations on the engagement Sawamura-San”

After you said that, Daichi’s heart broke.

He did end up marrying her, and he regretted every day of it. Since she was great and all, but she just wasn’t you...

But he knows now you’re long gone, definitely not going to forgive him for marrying another girl whilst being with him.

Ushijima : stop being so emotional

You and Ushijima were very much opposite In every aspect, and at first it wasn’t really a problem.

Especially since you always excused it as “opposite attracts.”

But recently all you and Ushijima do is argue, left and right always arguing.

You complained about Ushijimas lack of emotion when it came to you, you don’t think he cared about you or about anything.

Whenever you brought up something that was wrong he would reply with “Y/N this is something you need to be acting all upset about.”

And that would definitely upset you even more, you just wanted him to notice you or shout “Y/N I care about you and I love you.”

But Of course he didn’t.

One night he came back late (again) after promising to be home early to have a meal together.

“What’s taken you so long Ushi?” You asked

“I was at practice. I told you this.” He said simply, remaining as stoic as ever.

“But you said- you promised that we can have dinner together.” You said

“ oh well I’m sorry. We can have dinner now if you like.”

“I’m not hungry anymore” you mumbled past him, going to your bedroom.

“Y/N, what’s your problem” he said following after you.

“It’s nothing...”you said tears filling your eyes.

“Okay I’m going to go eat now.” He said leaving you alone in the room going to the kitchen, making you sigh.

After you calm yourself and collect your faults, you go into the kitchen where Ushijima is at the table eating.

“Ushijima, we need to talk.” You said taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“We should break up.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all you have to say?” You say tearing up again.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking that for a while now.” He said bluntly “since Y/N, you’re just too emotional.”

“Oh I see.” You say now full on crying.

Ushijima looks up to see you all teared-eye, and he is kind of suprised because ‘why were you upset.’ He got up and tried to console you, but you flinched away and said “Don’t, just don’t Ushijima.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...”

“Why are you sorry? Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“No.”

“Well then, just seems to prove my point further...” you go to leave before saying “thanks for the wonderful time... I guess we just weren’t meant to be.”

AN: can someone appreciate what I did with Iwaizumis....no? Okay 😃 I feel this one way way more angsty then part one but oh well. What did you think.

General taglist[bold can’t be tagged]: @sakuxxi @iimoonii @hamdehlesmis @Shoyosupremacy @meadowsinjapan @iambashfulperson @kayleighbeccaa @dearkousei @bakugouswh0r3

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cherienymphe · 3 years

Text

Joke’s On You (Joker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, knife play, blood play, murder, violence,

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary: you’re a part time thief who keeps getting in the Joker’s way. What starts out as rivals quickly turns into something hot and heavy, and before you know it, you’re J’s girl. Whether you want to be or not {based off of this headcanon}

The first time you ever come face to face with the Joker, the clown king himself, is during one of the first night’s you first started to execute your grand idea. You went through a klepto phase when you were a kid, but you never expected you’d return to it, and definitely not on a bigger scale like this.

It wasn’t like you were homeless or right on the poverty line. You had money, quite a bit in fact. One of the perks of being a stripper in the most popular club in Gotham, but there came a certain thrill from stealing from the rich in this city. Sure, you took their money on the stage, did everything you could to make them empty their pockets, but taking their money right out from under their nose was different.

You’re not sure when you came up with the bright idea, but you knew that if you wanted to keep this up and stay out of prison, you had to get smart about this. That was where the Joker came in. That clown ran this city, and you knew that with him around, no one would dare to even notice you. If you made your hits the same time as him, you could get in and out to no one’s knowledge.

It was a solid plan.

Until it wasn’t.

You almost ruin his plans to send a bank up into flames, and your eyes briefly meet his cold green ones before you’re taking off. You half expected to hear the sound of gunshots, even expected to get hurt or worse, but you can hear him telling his thugs to stand down. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by your presence, no real threat, and you’re unsure if you should be offended or not.

You had never seen the man himself up close before, and you’re shocked to realize that he’s taller than you imagined. More intimidating than you imagined. Despite the fact that he barely paid you any mind, you can’t help feeling like he’s going to break into your apartment and slit your throat. You’re a petty thief, nothing like the big criminals in this city, and your run in with him spooks you. It takes a long time for you to fall asleep that night.

You quickly put it behind you though and tell yourself that you just have to be more careful from here on out. It soon becomes obvious that that’s easier said than done. You hadn’t meant to get in his way when he was taking the mayor hostage. It was an honest mistake when you almost kept him from breaking some other danger to society out of Arkham, but the nail in your coffin finally comes when you do prevent him from robbing a bank truck.

You barely ducked in time as a bullet came flying past your head. You’re shaken up, but you manage to force yourself to get the hell out of there before the cops showed up and before the Joker took another shot. You should have known that he was going to be expecting you. The Joker was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.

You walk right into a trap, and you’re in the bank vault, hands full of money when you feel a sharp tug on your hair. You swallow down a yelp as you’re yanked back into a bare chest, and your eyes widen when a hand curls around your throat. You may not be the best villain in the world, but you’re one that can defend yourself, and the walls of the vault shake as you fight back.

He’s stronger than he looks, but you’re stronger than you look, and you both realize this when he has a gun pressed to your forehead while you have a knife at his throat. Your heart is hammering inside of your chest because not only are you once again face to face with the Joker himself, but he’s seconds away from killing you. You feel like you’re about to throw up, and he’s clearly amused.

He tilts his head at you, red lips parting to reveal a shiny grin, a laugh bubbling in his throat as he presses the barrel of the gun even further into your skin. His purple coat hangs off of him, pale chest heaving and that’s how you know that despite his grin, he’s irritated. Maybe even mad.

“…and what do they call you?”

His voice is deep, and that takes you by surprise. A lot of things about the infamous criminal are taking you by surprise.

“What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway, right?”

He hums, stepping closer with a sneer.

“I haven’t quite figured that one out yet…maybe I will when you tell me your name…”

“Well, I haven’t quite figured out what I want to be called,” you honestly told him.

No one but him and his goons knew about you, so you had never counted on anyone else knowing about you either. The thought of an alias never crossed your mind.

“Trying to steal my shine or something? You want to be the big dog around here?”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, and if he had eyebrows, you were sure he’d be raising one at you right now with the look he gave you.

He narrowed his eyes, and in one movement, he ripped your mask from your eyes, making them widen. He looked down his nose at you, taking in your all black attire before finally resting his eyes on your face.

“…or don’t tell me…you’re one of those girlies who thinks she can run around with me?”

You frowned at him, and he continued.

“I take it you’re a big fan.”

His tone was mocking, and you had the urge to spit in his face, but you knew that would surely put a bullet in your head, so you simply rolled your eyes.

“Hardly. With you around, no one will even look my way. Your taste for the dramatics allows me to stay below the radar,” you told him.

He hummed at that, tilting his head from side to side as he weighed your explanation in his mind.

“That’s smart, and I gotta hand it to ya, I didn’t think you were smart.”

Your frown deepened at his backhanded compliment, but it was quickly wiped from your face when he tightened his hold on his gun, and your eyes widened.

“Smart, but not smart enough to stay out of my way-.”

He was interrupted as the building shook, and you both turned as gunshots reached your ears. While he was distracted, you slipped out of his grip, ducking in time to miss a bullet before turning the corner. A recognizable shadow passed over the walls, and you ducked into a nearby hallway just as the winged vigilante himself met the Joker as he stepped into the hall.

The air hitting your face reminded you that your mask was gone, and you quietly made your way to the back exit as the sound of fighting and gunshots grew fainter. You released a sigh of relief when you made it outside, and although you didn’t have anything to show for your excursion, at least you had your life.

A thin layer of sweat clings to your skin as you step down off of the stage, feet aching in your heels. A coworker of yours winks at you as she takes your place on the stage, and you wish her luck. Customers were being a bit stingy today, and considering your last heist granted you with nothing, your lack of cashflow today had you more annoyed than usual.

Sure, it was a Tuesday afternoon, but it was still the hottest club in Gotham. Customers of all types of backgrounds frequented the place, and although the old money crowd practically lived here, you had a love hate relationship with their kind. They tended to be the stingiest with their money despite having more than you could ever dream of.

“What time are you off?”

You turned to another girl who worked at the place, Mandy, and threw her a grim look.

“12.”

She grimaced, blue eyes filled with pity as she shook her head.

“Sheesh. Well, that’s what happens when you’re the best dancer in this place,” she said with a shrug. “Your demand is high.”

“High demand and low pay. What a treat,” you sarcastically replied.

She chuckled, but she quickly swallowed it down, eyes glancing past you. The club was already loud, but there seemed to be an uptake in noise, and you turned to find the cause. You froze where you stood, eyes wide and lips parting at the group of people who just stepped into the place.

All of the men varied in size and shape, all dressed in black as they made their way inside like they owned the place. You supposed that in a way they did. Anyone following the footsteps of the Joker probably felt like he could get away with anything. The man in question led the bunch, strutting past patrons with a dark look in his eye, green hair contrasting against his dark red shirt.

You quickly turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut as Mandy let out a low whistle.

“I haven’t seen him step foot in here in forever,” she commented.

You looked to her with a confused frown.

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve only been here for what, half a year? The Joker used to come in here all the time. They’d get a bit rowdy but what is that when he’s the highest paying customer?”

She shrugged, reaching for a tray of drinks, completely unaware of your internal dilemma. It was almost time to get back on stage.

“Have fun,” she purred, walking past you.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you stewed over what you should do. Sure, you were a thief in your spare time, but you couldn’t lose this job. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t walk out of here, so you straightened your shoulders and made your way back to your stage.

You kept an eye out for pale skin and green hair, and you were thankful to find him far on the other side of the room. He and his crew were occupied by another dancer, Mandy serving them drinks. You were thankful and carefully stepped onto the stage.

As usual, you attracted a nice sized crowd, and you made sure to keep your face turned away as you moved around the pole. You were pleased to find that this crowd was more generous with their money, but your satisfaction was short lived when your turned to find your boss gesturing for you to come off the stage. You were confused but did so anyway. He nervously scratched his dark beard as you approached, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut for some reason.

“What is it?”

He grumbled and jerked his head towards the other side of the building, and you hesitantly looked over his shoulder. The Joker’s goons were having a good time tossing money at the dancer on stage, a few of them clearly drunk. The green-haired man, however, wasn’t partaking in the festivities. His unreadable gaze was focused on you, and your heart sank when he didn’t break the stare. You were forced to when your boss spoke.

“He wants a private session with you,” the older man mumbled, and you’d be dumb to miss the fear and concern in his voice.

You internally cursed.

“You’re kidding…”

“…’fraid not. He was very clear in his…request,” he responded.

You both knew that it wasn’t a request. The Joker never requested anything, and you briefly closed your eyes, positive that this was going to be your last night on earth. Your boss placed his hand on your shoulder, gaze sympathetic…and pitying.

“Just do what he says, alright?”

He wasn’t just telling you that to make more money, but to keep you from becoming the clown’s next victim. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your fate was already sealed. With a nod, you strutted past him and made your way to the other side of the room. The Joker’s expression didn’t change as you approached him, and you nervously swallowed. His cold green eyes seemed to follow the gesture, and you took a deep breath.

“Someone request a private room?”

Again, he said nothing, simply tilting his head to the side as his trailed his eyes over your scantily clad form. Some of his posse was still enamored with the dancer before them, but the rest had turned to not so discreetly eye you. They all looked away when the green-haired man stood, and your eyes fell to the sliver of skin that peeked through the top of his shirt, unable to hold his gaze.

“Right this way…”

You didn’t hear his footsteps, but you could feel his presence behind you as you led the way to the back where the private rooms were located. The walk was quiet, thick with tension, and you wondered if it was too late for you to start saying your prayers.

You went in first, blinking at the red glow of the room that came from the neon lights. You were shaking, stomach churning as the door clicked shut behind him. You turned to tell him to get it over with when his hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to swallow your words. You let out a pained squeak, eyes watering, but his lips swallowed any other noise you threatened to make.

Your eyes were wide as he roughly kissed you, shock coursing through you while his mouth moved against yours. You stumbled back in your heels, but he quickly followed, teeth nipping at you so violently that you tasted blood. You wanted to tell him that this wasn’t that kind of club. This was not in your job description and was not allowed, but you remembered your boss’ words and wondered if he knew that this was what the man wanted?

Even still, you couldn’t go through with this, but his tattooed hands were ripping at your attire before you had the chance to voice what you wanted to say. Your lips were finally free to tell him off, but the only thing that came out was a yelp when his teeth sank into your shoulder. The pain you felt was quickly overshadowed by the pleasure that warmed your stomach when his fingers brushed over you.

You pushed against his chest, but his other hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed to his chest. It happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to ponder what was happening until he was already inside of you. One hand was tangled in your hair, face pressed into the seat of the sofa as broken moans escaped your trembling lips.

His free hand was pressed into the skin between your shoulder blades, holding you down while his hips snapped into you over and over again. He was far from gentle, but every harsh stroke only seemed to stroke that fire inside of you. Your lashes were fluttering as he thrust into you, eyes rolling while you tried to make sense of everything.

You could feel his nails pressing into your back as he pinned you down, and your own scraped against the fabric of the couch while choked moans climbed out of your throat. This was far from how you expected your day to go. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that this man was trying to kill you. You fluttered around his unrelenting cock and tried to remember why that was a bad thing.

He let out what sounded like a growl above you, the fabric of his pants pressing into your skin as he ground against you, and his hand in your hair moved to the back of your neck just as the tightening in your stomach snapped. You came around him with an embarrassing scream, going limp beneath him as he fucked you through your climax, diving headfirst into his own.

You collapsed the minute he let you go, vision blurry and throat sore as you heard him zip his pants. You were still shaking, and he was already gathering himself together like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just fucked you delirious. You moved to stand, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but you collapsed back onto the couch.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a low chuckle in his throat. Either way, you didn’t get to ask him because the sound of the door slamming shut reached your ears seconds later.

The next time you ran into that stupid clown, you took great satisfaction in striking him square in the face. You didn’t care that he was surrounded by his band of hired muscle nor that you were currently standing in the middle of a jewelry store, alarm blaring in your ears almost painfully.

He gestured for the men around him to continue looting the place, seeing as they had paused to take in the scene. You knew they would have killed you without hesitation had he told them to. You glared at him as he grinned at you, bat perched on his shoulder.

“We’ve gotta stop running into each other like this,” he lowly said.

“That was for the last time we ‘ran into each other’,” you sneered. “I don’t care who you are, you don’t get to-.”

“Consider it my way of letting you get off easy.”

He chuckled at his play on words, but you weren’t amused in the slightest.

“Get off easy? Are you even crazier than everyone thinks?”

His grin was gone in a flash, and he stepped towards you, tapping his bat against his shoulder as he leaned in. His lips were parted as his eyes bore into your own, and you forced yourself to stand your ground as the scent of him invaded your nose.

“If you recall,” he slowly began. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

You swallowed, jaw clenching as he tapped his finger against your nose.

“The plan was to put a bullet in that pretty little mouth of yours. Does that…ring any bells?”

You pressed your lips together, glancing away as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Fucking you brought me more satisfaction than killing you ever could,” he deeply said.

You felt heat rise to your face, and he tilted his head, lips brushing against your own as he spoke.

“So…I suggest you keep me satisfied…”

His coat flew behind him as he spun away, stomping towards one of his men to bark orders at them. Anger and humiliation coursed through you as you stomped outside, and you narrowed your eyes as the sound of police sirens drew nearer. With a sneer, you grabbed the knife in your holster before slashing the tires on his van.

That kept you satisfied throughout the rest of the night, but you paid for it dearly the next day at the club. This time, he hadn’t even waited until you were in the room. His hand had curled around the back of your neck as soon as you got to the door, forcing you inside as soon as he opened it.

You had stumbled in your heels, falling to your knees, and he was there before you could even rise. His hand was on your neck the entire time he slammed into you, the carpet scraping against your back. You could hardly breathe, let alone moan as he had his way with you, and you knew that he was genuinely angry this time, and you wondered how he managed to escape the police.

He was punishing you for your little stunt, but God did you love it. Your hands fisted into his bright red button down as he slid into your soaked walls, trying to pull him closer. You heard him hum every time you clenched around his throbbing member, the sound of your arousal reaching your ears. You should have been embarrassed at how wet you were, but the Joker seemed to enjoy it just fine, and besides. You saw no reason to pretend.

Like the last time, he was righting himself as soon as he was done while you lay on the floor, still trying to catch your breath. You let out a soft chuckle as he slammed the door behind him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t even able to talk in the morning.

This little game between the two of you became something of a regular occurrence. You’d make your hits when and where he did his to avoid exposure, and sometimes things would go wrong on his end. Some mishaps were genuine accidents, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the way he’d take out his frustration on you.

He fucked you like an animal, and you loved it because sometimes you couldn’t even form words afterwards. And best of all, he wasn’t trying to kill you anymore…just your vagina.

One day, he didn’t leave as soon as he was done. He stood over you, watching as you fought to control your breathing. When you realized that he wasn’t making any moves to leave, you peeled your eyes open to look up at him from your place on the couch.

“…what?”

You nervously sat up as he dug into his pocket, eyes widening when he pulled out the shiniest bracelet you’d ever seen. He dangled it in front of your face, a low hum escaping him as you admired it.

“Saw this shiny little number in the display. It had my little thief written all over it…”

He jerked it away when you reached for it, so you reached higher, gasping when he closed his free hand around your wrist. You watched as he snapped the expensive piece of jewelry around your arm, and you brushed your fingers over it the minute he let you go.

You were forced to pull your eyes away from it though when he harshly gripped your chin, pulling your head up so that you were looking at him. His green eyes bore into your own, face unreadable as he pressed his red lips together.

“You like it, doll face?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, and you nodded.

“I love it,” you told him, unaware of the implications behind the gesture.

You started showing up to work with all kinds of new things. A new pair of earrings, a necklace that wasn’t that before, even some new heels that didn’t hurt your feet as much. You figured it was just a perk of fucking the king of Gotham, of keeping him satisfied.

You didn’t know that it went beyond mere satisfaction and thankful gestures.

It was a late night, or early morning depending on how you looked at it. The club was almost at its peak, the early hours of the morning being your busiest. You hadn’t seen J in a few days, but it wasn’t unusual. The man was basically running an empire.

You were servicing a client, a regular who could never stick to one dancer. He had a habit of hopping between the ladies at the club, and it looked like this week, he’d chosen you. The loud music filled your ears as you slid your hands over his shoulder, thighs brushing his as you danced on him. The bass from the music made your body vibrate, and your eyes fell closed as you fisted one of your hands into your hair, chest pushed forwards.

The man had already given you a handsome sum of money, and you knew that if you put on your best show, there was plenty more where that came from. The loud music prevented you from hearing the rise in voices as a new patron entered the club. It also prevented you from taking note of the worried chatter that had only just started to emerge, but it didn’t drown out the sound of a gunshot that you flinching.

However, you didn’t open your eyes because of the gunshot. You opened your eyes at the feel of droplets landing all over your face, hair, and clothes. You faintly registered the sound of screams surrounding you as people fled from the club, tripping over one another. You stumbled back, frozen in place as you stood up straight, hands raised in front of you as you stared at your dead customer in shock.

He was dead.

That much was more than clear, but you were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. Heavy footsteps slowly made their way over to you, and you hesitantly looked over, terrified eyes connecting with familiar green ones. His eyes were wild and crazed, green hair pushed back away from his face, gun swinging back and forth on his finger. He looked good in his all white suit, not a spot of blood on him.

You wished you could say the same.

“Are you insane?” you screamed, legs trembling.

“Well, that’s what they tell me.”

You frowned at him as he threw his head back and cackled, and you shook your head, fighting to clear it.

“Why did you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

He abruptly stopped laughing, slowly lowering his head to gaze at you. His lips parted into a mocking grin.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I leave town on business for a few days, and I come back to find my girl practically screwing some punk for the whole club to see,” he slowly said, voice low and threatening.

Your anger kicked you into gear, and you stomped towards him, a frown on your face.

“I am not your girl, and even if I was…this is my job! You know this is my job-!”

Your words were cut off, and you winced as he tightened his hold on your neck. Your feet were barely grazing the floor as he walked forwards, forcing you back. You dug your fingers into his arm, hitting at him with your free hand, but he acted as if you weren’t even fighting back.

“Those nice earrings you’re wearing says you’re my girl…”

Your stomach churned as you began to realize the serious meaning behind his gifts.

“…that pretty little bracelet on your arm says you’re my girl…”

You looked around in fear, realizing that the club was completely empty save for you, the Joker, and his thugs. You kicked at him as he forced your back onto the stage, his firm body pressing down on yours. His hold was still tight, and you felt tears spring forth as you fought to breathe.

“…and I say you’re my girl. Understand?”

You gave a shaky nod, but it wasn’t enough for him. He lifted you by the neck before slamming you back down, making you wince, and a slow grin spread along his face, revealing his shiny teeth.

“I’ve got a whole lotta toys, sweetheart. I earned those toys. I took those toys. Those toys are mine…”

You watched as he pointed his gun at the dead man still slumped in the chair.

“…and I don’t like people touching my toys.”

You didn’t get a chance to ponder on this turn of events before his lips were harshly pressing against yours. He slammed the gun down next to your head, hands pulling at your attire, and the tears finally spilled over as you fought against him. You weren’t alone, and this was a new level of humiliation that you weren’t okay with.

A man was dead. In fact, you were still covered in his blood, and the Joker’s men were just behind him, intently listening to everything, no doubt. His grip was harsh as he took hold of your wrists, slamming them down beside you. He let one go to grab his gun, pressing it into your lips as you shook.

“You gonna be a good girl? Or do I have to use this again?”

His voice was calm despite the violent implications behind his words, and you shakily shook your head.

He was rougher with you than he had ever been before. Biting you, choking you, and holding you far too tight. Part of you felt like it was done on purpose, not only so you’d get the idea, but so that the rest of his crew would get that you were his too. You cried as he pressed your cheek down onto the stage floor, hips snapping against your backside while harsh grunts left his lips.

You couldn’t handle staring at the Joker’s latest victim while he forced himself into you, so you squeezed your eyes shut. His other hand dug into your hip so harshly, you knew it was going to leave a bruise. As the minutes drew on, it seemed like his ministrations were becoming rougher, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the sound of your sobs were egging him on.

His grip on your hair when he came had more tears springing to your eyes, and you flinched when his lips brushed your ear.

“Clean yourself up…”

Having only been half on the stage, you collapsed to the floor when he let you go. Your hair and makeup were a mess, and you miserably stared up at him through tear-filled eyes as he tucked his shirt back into his pants, swiftly pulling on his white suit jacket.

“…the cops will be here soon, and you gotta pull yourself together. Huh, doll face?”

He forced your head back as he gripped your chin, and you reluctantly nodded. He roughly dragged his thumb over your lips, smearing what was left of your lipstick before taking his leave, leaving you alone with one dead body, and one bruised one.

You shuffled upstairs, arms aching and eyes tight as you made your way to your apartment. It had been weeks since you’d been back to the club. Your boss, someone you were ever grateful for, told you to come back when you were ready. After all, you’d had someone’s brains blown out right in front of you…on you.

You were fortunate that no one stuck around to see J’s possessive display of ownership, so no one knew what his impromptu murder was really about. Everyone speculated that the customer had crossed the Joker in some way, a business deal gone wrong, but only you knew the truth. Only you knew that the man’s only crime had been paying for your time.

You took a break from stealing from the wealthy too. Not only did you lack the energy, but you couldn’t chance running into the Joker. Had you known what all of those gifts had meant, you never would have accepted them. You didn’t want to be the Joker’s. The last girl who got seriously tangled up with him had ended up almost crazier than he was.

Granted, you heard Harley Quinn was doing better these days, but God. Look how long it took her to get there? The thought of telling him to his face that it was over was a scary one, so you settled for just hiding away in your apartment. He was the Joker, a man who had a lot on his plate, and like he’d said, you were a toy to him. There were plenty of toys out there, and he could easily find another.

You dropped the groceries to the floor as soon as you made it inside, and you groaned as you straightened. Your shoes clicked along the floor as you made your way through your dark apartment. You turned on the kitchen light so that it would be on when you returned, and you made your way through your living room, looking forward to getting out of these clothes.

However, when you turned on the light in the living room, you were startled by the sight of a familiar green-haired villain standing in the corner like some statue. You barely swallowed down the scream that bubbled in your throat, and your eyes were wide as you took him in.

He was wearing a tux, a nice one with a white bowtie and a matching boutonniere. His hair was slicked back, and you weren’t sure where he came from, but you wanted him to go right back.

“I was enjoying a night out on the town…taunting Batsy as I like to do…”

He walked away from the wall as he slowly begun, cold eyes roaming over your apartment.

“…when I realized that I hadn’t seen my little thief for days. Weeks even.”

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to make his way around the living room, running his gloved hands over your furniture. You didn’t realize that he was gradually closing the circle, nearing you.

“You haven’t been at work. You haven’t been in my face while you ruin my plans. You’re not hiding from me…are ya, doll face?”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing down your fear as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I’m not hiding from you. We’re just through,” you told him.

He froze, glancing over his shoulder at you before continuing to look around.

“Did you hear me? You and I are done. Take your jewelry back, take everything you gave me and leave,” you continued.

He continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, and you stomped towards him.

“I’m serious, J! Do I need to call the police?”

That made him turn, and he wagged his finger at you like you were a misbehaving child.

“Careful,” he purred. “…because I personally know a certain thief they’d love to be informed about.”

You frowned, swallowing before pushing past him.

“I don’t care. At least in jail, I’ll be away from you-.”

You were cut off by your own scream, reaching for his hand as he pulled on your hair, forcing you away from the phone. He pulled you against him, and your eyes widened when he pressed a knife against your cheek, a hair’s width away from your lips.

“You have no agency in this arrangement.”

He threw you to the floor, and you scrambled away from him, nails scraping along the wood as he pulled you back. He cut your clothes away with ease, the torn shreds falling to the floor to leave you bear before him. The knife that grazed along your skin kept you from screaming as he undressed, but you did wince when he pressed it into your thigh, like a warning of what could come.

He took you behind the couch first, holding your thighs so tightly that the skin burned when he finally let go. Your table was next, but unfortunately, it didn’t withstand his rough treatment. The wall shook as he fucked you against it, every thrust rattling the pictures you had hung up to make this place a tad cozier.

Broken glass and broken pieces of wood littered the floor by the time he forced you into your bedroom. His knife remained in between his fingers the whole time he fucked you against your sheets. Your scalp burned from his harsh hold, and your throat hurt every time you swallowed, and you just knew that you’d wake up with finger shaped bruises in the morning. His deep voice was a constant in your ear, calling you ‘his little thief’, tsking at you like you were a confused child, telling you how much he was going to straighten you out.

When you clenched around him for a final time, your legs were thrown over his shoulder while your hands were pinned above your head by one of his. His free hand had fun cutting little nicks into your skin, greedily licking up the blood as tears continued to dampen your cheeks. He continued to push himself into you even after he came, and when he finally pulled out, your legs fell to the bed, chest heaving with shallow sobs.

“Now, wasn’t that a whole lotta fun?”

You glared at him as he sat up, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his fair skin, and your eyes traced the ink that decorated him. His green hair was in disarray, a smug grin on his lips as he pushed the strange colored locks away from his face. You could hardly even move, and you feared that attempting to would hurt worse.

You watched as he leaned over to his discarded pants, pulling out some sparkly piece of jewelry that you couldn’t care less about. You swallowed as he held it up, nearing you.

“…and here I was out shopping for something to compliment those new earrings, and you’re talking about leaving me. That’s a bit rude, but I’m willing to look past it.”

More tears spill over as he slides it around your neck, and it feels more like a noose than a necklace.

“You look like a work of art,” he says, lips brushing your cheek. “…all pretty and marked up by yours truly.”

His hair tickles your face, and he slowly leans away, dragging his fingers over your lips. You wince when he roughly grabs your jaw, pressing his fingers into a tender spot that you know is already forming a bruise.

“Now, I’ll be back in a couple of hours, so don’t do anything stupid.”

He tightened his grip at the end of his sentence, and you flinched. He grinned at you as he lightly patted his other hand against your cheek, grin widening when you recoiled.

“Let’s not do anything like that again, alright, sweetheart?” he purrs. “I’d hate to have to really hurt ya.”

tags: @harryspet @sherrybaby14 @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @opheliadawnwalker3 @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @readermia @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @buckybarnesplumwhore @quaksonhehe @nerdygirl8203 @mandiiblanche @cocoamoonmalfoy

#joker x reader #dark fic #dc fanfic #dc #dark joker #dark!joker #suicide squad

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multi-fandom-imagines-stuff · 3 years

Text

Smaller Than This

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff/daughter!reader, Peter Parker/platonic!reader, Wanda Maximoff/reader

Description: The reader is Natasha Romanoff’s daughter, best friend of Peter Parker, and girlfriend of Wanda Maximoff. Growing up in the spotlight is hard enough, but things cross a line when people start commenting on the reader’s weight.

Warnings: eating disorder, swearing, threats of violence

Word count: 3,282

A/N: I know it’s not easy to deal with eating disorders, but please know that you are beautiful and amazing and you don’t deserve to have to suffer through that. Please, if you are struggling with this, reach out for help. <3

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Black Widow’s daughter spotted in Central Park with new best friend Scarlet Witch and Stark Industry intern Peter Parker! Could Parker be y/n’s new boyfriend?

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you clicked on the tweet. Stalking paparazzi twitter accounts had to be one of your favorite pastimes, simply because the so-called facts they were giving out were false 99% of the time. For instance, this situation? You had gone out for a picnic with Peter and Wanda when those photos were taken, and the paparazzi completely twisted things. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend, he was just your best friend. And Wanda wasn’t your best friend, she was your girlfriend. You chose to ignore the false headline as you went immediately for the replies.

‘Do you see the way y/n’s looking at Wanda? It seems more like there’s something going on between them than there is between y/n and Peter’

You smiled and liked that tweet. You liked messing with people just a bit. Whenever someone would tweet about there possibly being a relationship between you and Wanda, you liked the tweet. It wasn’t enough information to actually confirm the relationship as true, but it was enough to keep people speculating.

You scrolled through several more replies. Most of them were people using the heart eyes emoji or saying how much they loved your mom, but there were a few in there that stuck out more than the rest. That was because they were harsh and hurtful.

‘I don’t understand how someone can live with the Avengers and still look like that. Does she ever even exercise?’

‘She could stand to lose some weight. Instead of going out for a picnic, she should try to skip a few meals’

You read through replies for a few more minutes. Similar comments would pop up now and then, and while there wasn’t an overwhelming amount, there was still enough to make you close down the app and shut off your phone, averting all your attention toward not crying.

“Miss y/n, dinner has been called,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang through your room.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind, you got off your bed and made your way to the dining room. There, Peter and Wanda were setting the table while Steve and Bucky carried out the food.

You walked up behind your girlfriend and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder. You felt her jump slightly before she realized it was you and relaxed into your touch. You placed a kiss on her cheek.

“I love you,” You whispered in her ear.

“Hey! What did we talk about?” Tony directed at you, raising an eyebrow at you and causing you to roll your eyes.

“No lovey-dovey shit at the dinner table,” You mumbled.

“Language!” Steve scolded you as Clint joined the conversation.

“Oh, come on, Tony,” He said. “It’s young love. It’s harmless and adorable.”

“It makes me want to hurl,” Tony retorted.

To onlookers, it may have sounded like Tony was being a real dick, but you knew he was just teasing you. He’d never admit it, but secretly he loved how happy you and Wanda made each other.

“Watch it, Stark,” Your mom shot him a glare. “That’s my kid you’re talking about.”

Your head whipped up at your mom’s voice. She had been on a mission for the past week and wasn’t supposed to get home for another three days.

“Mom!” You yelled as you ran toward her, wrapping your arms around her as you squeezed her tight.

“Hey, kiddo! I’ve missed you!” She said, hugging you back and kissing you lightly on the forehead.

“I’ve missed you, too!”

“As much as I hate to break up this reunion,” Bucky said, causing you to pull away from your mom. “Steve and I slaved over dinner and it’s getting cold, so let’s eat.”

You took your seat at the table—in between Peter and Wanda—and filled your plate with the spaghetti and garlic bread Steve and Bucky made. Everyone was silent as you all dug into your food and, you had to admit, it tasted amazing.

When Steve and Bucky first moved in, neither of them were allowed near a stove without supervision. They had started too many accidental fires. But after lots and lots of practice, the two of them easily became the best cooks in the tower.

After dinner, you excused yourself to your room. Your phone was still lying face down on the bed, so you grabbed it and opened it up. Right away, you noticed several notifications from twitter. Upon further investigation, you found that the rude comments people were saying about you had extended to your messages. Now, you had complete strangers messaging you about how you needed to ‘lose weight’, or ‘eat less’, or ‘exercise more’. A few of the messages even called you a ‘disappointment to the Avengers’.

You deactivated your account and deleted the app from your phone, but the damage was already done and you knew it. So you came up with a plan and decided to set it into motion the next morning.

✩❀✩❀✩

You woke up in the morning to your alarm blaring. Checking the time, you saw it was 4:30, and you wondered why your alarm was going off so early before you remembered the plan you had made the night before.

You got out of bed and quickly dressed in athletic attire before running out of your room. You knew Steve liked to run in the mornings, so you sat in the kitchen waiting for him.

When he finally sauntered in at 5:00, he was more than surprised to see you sitting there.

“Y/n?” He asked. “What’re you doing up so early?”

“Can I run with you today, Uncle Steve?” You asked him, a pleading look on your face that you knew he couldn’t say no to.

“Yeah, sure,” He said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be sleeping?”

You nodded.

“I want to start running. My mile time in P.E. class has been slacking lately and I don’t want to fail the class.”

You were surprised yet proud of how quickly you were able to come up with that lie, and you were happy to see that Steve believed every word of it.

So that’s how you spent your morning: running laps with Steve.

The two of you finally called it quits around 6:15 and parted ways. Steve went off to do whatever he did during the days, and you went off to squeeze in a quick shower before school.

By the time you were done with your shower, it was nearly 7:00, which meant you had to rush to get dressed. You finally made it to the kitchen, where Wanda was already waiting for you. The two of you yelled a quick ‘bye’ to whoever was listening before you started the quick walk to the bus stop.

You felt Wanda’s hand interlock with yours and a smile arose on your face as you squeezed her hand. You two didn’t want to publicly disclose your relationship yet, so you knew the minute you reached the bus stop you’d have to let go.

✩❀✩❀✩

At lunch, you sat at a table with Wanda, Peter, MJ, and Ned. You skipped the food line and instead opted to sip at a bottle of water.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Peter asked you.

“What do you mean?” You shot back, not quite sure what he was getting at.

“You’re not eating.”

Shit. You had to think of a lie, and you had to be extra careful since your girlfriend could read minds. She promised you she’d never read your mind without your consent, but you were still wary.

“Uh...I’m just not feeling well,” You said. “My stomach is feeling a little flip-floppy and I don’t want to push it.”

To your luck, they nodded it off and changed the topic, not questioning you again for the rest of the day.

That night at dinner, you pushed the food around on your plate, eating a few bites here and there. It wasn’t hard to pretend you had eaten, especially since your family was so big. Everyone seemed to be so caught up in conversations with other people that they didn’t notice when you got up and scraped your food into the trash.

✩❀✩❀✩

These habits carried on for a few more weeks. You’d wake up every morning to run with Steve, make up some excuse for why you didn’t eat lunch, and you’d have a few bites of dinner before sneakily trashing it. On most weekends, you chose to spend your time training with your mom. You claimed it was so that you could stay sharp with your self-defense skills, and while that wasn’t necessarily a lie, it wasn’t the full truth, either. But your mom never questioned it, and you were glad.

You seemed to fly under the radar, until one Sunday afternoon.

You walked into your room after training with your mom to find Peter and Wanda waiting for you.

“Hey, guys,” You greeted, throwing yourself into a chair and downing half a bottle of water. “What’s up?”

“We know,” Wanda said, a stern yet concerned look on her face.

“Know what?” You asked her, although you could feel your heart rate rising. You knew what she was talking about.

“That you haven’t been eating,” Peter joined in.

“What’re you talking about? Of course I’ve been eating.”

That was a lie. Your stomach hadn’t been properly filled in weeks and you couldn’t remember the last time it wasn’t rumbling. But that wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that you were finally losing weight. There’s no way you could stop now.

“Cut the crap, y/n,” Peter said, catching you by surprise. “We’ve been watching you. I can’t even remember the last time you bought a school lunch.”

“And you pick at your food at dinner every night,” Wanda added. “I haven’t seen you eat more than three bites. You think no one notices, but you’re wrong. And I can feel you, love. You feel...empty.”

Wanda rested her hand on your knee as you tried to process what was happening. You had been so good at hiding this, how had they found out?

“You guys, I’m—” You started before Peter cut you off.

“Don’t say you’re fine, because you’re not. We know it, and you know it, so please stop lying to us, y/n. We just want to help.”

“I have it under control, I don’t need help,” You protested. “Just...please don’t tell my mom.”

“Y/n—”

“Wanda, please,” You begged. “My mom has enough to worry about as it is. I don’t need to add this to her stress as well. I promise, I have it under control. I’m alright.”

Wanda and Peter shared a look before turning back to you.

“We’ll keep this between us for now,” Peter said, and you felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“But, if things get any worse, we won’t hesitate to bring your mom into this,” Wanda warned.

You nodded and the two of them left, Wanda kissing you quickly before walking out of the room.

‘I just need to hide it better’ you thought to yourself. ‘This is all my fault for being too obvious about things. I need to do better.’

Wanda and Peter had dropped the topic for the time being, until a week later, things took a turn for the worse when your P.E. teacher announced that your class was running the mile that day.

Thanks to training with Steve, your mile time had improved and you were one of the fastest in the class. However, due to malnutrition, any sort of exercise made you extremely lightheaded.

You ignored the part of your brain that was telling you to make up some excuse to sit out. You convinced yourself you just weren’t drinking enough water so you drank an entire water bottle and went to class.

You were about halfway done with your mile when the corners of your vision turned black. You blinked a few times, trying to edge it away, but it was no use. By now, you heard a loud ringing in your ears and the world started spinning around you. You slowed down a bit, trying to regain your composure when you felt your knees buckle underneath you, and you were plunged into a world of darkness, not feeling it when you hit the ground.

✩❀✩❀✩

When you awoke, you were still laying on the field, your entire class swarming around you. You were trying to sit up when you felt something attached to your hand.

You looked to the right and saw Wanda sitting there, looking scared as hell.

“Miss Maximoff, Mr. Parker, please escort Miss Romanoff to the nurse’s office,” Your teacher ordered.

You felt Wanda help lift you to a standing position and once you were up, you felt the world start spinning again. You shut your eyes tight as two arms, you assumed they belonged to Wanda and Peter, wrapped around either side of your waist. Soon enough, the dizziness ceased and you opened your eyes, signaling for Peter and Wanda to start walking with you.

You made it to the nurse’s station where you saw your mom already waiting.

“Mom?” You asked, wondering how she had gotten to your school so quickly.

“Peter called me the second he saw you fall,” She explained.

You, Wanda, and Peter were dismissed from school early, and your mom led you all back to her car. You sat in the passenger seat while Peter and Wanda sat in the back.

“What happened?” Your mom demanded.

The tone of her voice scared you a little bit, but you knew it was filled more with concern than it was with anger.

“I must’ve just gotten overheated or something,” You lied, knowing exactly why you passed out. “I was doing fine one second, and then the next I was on the ground.”

“That’s not true, Ms. Romanoff,” Peter interjected.

You whipped your head around to him and shook your head, silently pleading him to not tell her.

“What do you mean?” She asked. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Peter, stop,” You said, panicking at what was about to be said.

“Y/n hasn’t eaten a proper meal in a month,” Wanda admitted.

You shot your girlfriend a look of betrayal before turning back around to face forward.

“You, what?!” Your mom blared. “Y/n, is this true?”

Your silence was enough of an answer for her to understand that yes, it was true.

“Y/n, baby, why?” Your mom said.

You could tell she was trying to be strong, but her voice was cracking.

“Because I’m not like you guys, okay?!” You finally snapped, letting loose all of your pent-up emotions. “I don’t have a super-human metabolism like Peter, and I don’t have a perfectly in-shape body. I’m not an avenger and it sure as hell shows. Even people I don’t even know were making comments about it on twitter.”

“Is that why you disabled your account?” Peter asked, realization hitting him.

You nodded and looked down at your fingers, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them.

By now, you had reached the tower and your mom put the car into park, turning to face you.

“Y/n, I know it’s been hard for you to grow up in the spotlight, constantly being compared to us but this isn’t healthy,” She said, cupping your chin and lightly pulling your head up to meet her gaze. “If I had known all of this, I never would have let you do all those extra training sessions with me. It’s not safe for you to keep exercising like this when you’re not giving your body proper nourishment.”

“I can’t—” You sniffed. “I can’t stop. I need help.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheek as your mom brushed it away, pulling you in for a hug before the four of you got out of the car.

Once inside, your mom told you to sit down in the living room while she left for a few minutes. When she returned, she had the rest of the team with her and you could only assume she had given them the run-down on your situation.

You were slightly hurt that she had shared your personal life like that, but you knew it was for the best.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Your mom said once everyone was settled. “Y/n, you’re going to help with dinner every night. I know it can be hard once you’ve developed a food phobia, but when you’re in control of what we eat every night it makes things a little easier. No more throwing your food in the trash, okay? As for school, I’ll be making you a homemade lunch each day, and Peter and Wanda will be keeping an eye on you and will be reporting back to me. First thing tomorrow, I’ll call and set you up an appointment with a therapist. Bottling up your emotions will only make things worse, trust me. You need to talk to someone, and a therapist will help to give you healthier coping mechanisms.”

You listened as your mom laid out these new rules before telling you to go lie down. As you got up to leave, you were bombarded with your family hugging you and telling you they were there for you. You honestly had never felt more loved and supported in your life.

You finally made your way to your room, lying down in bed. A few minutes later, you heard a knock at your door.

“Come in,” You said weakly.

The handle turned and Wanda walked in, using her powers to levitate a tray behind her. You sat up and she put the tray down in your lap. On the tray, you saw there was a plate of cheese and crackers.

You looked down at the tray before looking up at your girlfriend. You forced yourself to pick up one of the crackers and take a bite, your mind screaming at you the entire time. But you were sick. You knew this. You wanted to get better.

“I’m sorry for telling your mother,” Wanda spoke. “You were slowly killing yourself and I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. I’m so sorry, y/n. Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t blame you, Wan,” You told her. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I never should have forced you and Peter to keep this a secret.”

Wanda wrapped you into her arms, squeezing tightly. The two of you stayed like that for a long time before you pulled away and, bite by bite, finished the snack she had brought you.

✩❀✩❀✩

You had been in recovery for about a month now, and while things were far from easy, you knew you could do it. Your family was your support system and they were right there by your side every step of the way.

You were sitting on the couch with Peter and Wanda, you and your girlfriend tangled in each other’s arms as you watched your mom on tv. She was finishing up a press conference.

“Oh, and one last thing before I go,” She spoke toward the camera and the audience. “Whoever decided to make awful comments about my daughter online, I am a trained assassin and I will find you.”

#oneshot #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter reader #wanda maximoff #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu oneshot #wanda maximoff oneshot #wanda maximoff x reader #tw ed talk #tw ed stuff #eating disoder mention

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hyungieyoongi · 3 years

Text

Found: “Run Away to You” Part 1

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Fluff + Angst

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

// Part 2

---

Looking at the calendar on your wall, the date glared back at you, red marker encircling the number as if you could forget it.

One year. It had been one whole year since you ran away from your old life.

Happy anniversary to me, you thought bitterly.

It hadn’t been easy–no, it had been tactful, strategic. Your best friend-turned-publicist, Marianne, had programmed your social media accounts to simultaneously deactivate. The phone you used for “celebrity” contacts and business-related matters was permanently turned off, stashed away in the back of a drawer. You had already moved all your belongings to a new apartment on the other side of the city, address undisclosed to everyone except Marianne and your parents on the other side of the world. Everything had been in place for you to completely disappear.

You were instructed to lay low for at least one entire month, groceries delivered to your door under a fake name with Marianne’s credit card. You had cut your hair, once long and flowing, to your collarbone. It was often hidden under a baseball hat when you went to your favorite café for a coffee or took your elderly neighbor’s dog for walks around the park. You were completely off the radar, just as intended.

That didn’t stop the world from trying to track you down for a while. Fan blogs speculated where you could have gone, and tabloids splashed old pictures of you on their covers with speculative headlines. Your parents even had to install a state-of-the-art security system in your hometown in the States after a magazine found out where you grew up and tried to break into their backyard. But you weren’t naïve enough to go back home; that was the first place people would expect you to go. Instead, you were hidden in plain sight in Seoul, just sans the flashes of the cameras following you. Without the designer clothes or big sunglasses hiding your features, you looked just like anyone else. Undetectable.

You had grown up in America, studying acting and Korean during your time at university with Marianne. Upon graduation, you landed a major role in a K-drama, uprooting your entire life to move to Seoul. For five years, you lived in the spotlight under the industry’s microscope. People said you were living the dream, but it started to feel more like a nightmare. It became overwhelming, suffocating.

When the show wrapped after three seasons, you knew it was time. You decided to run. You just wish you didn’t have to hurt anyone else in the process. Especially him.

You had instructed Marianne to give him a letter explaining why you had to go away, but she never heard back from him.

Let me go, Yoongi. Don’t look for me. This is for the best. I will always care about you. – Y/N

The words were emblazoned in your memory, your eyes tearing up at the thought of him reading the words you wrote to him.

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.

Your cell phone rang, distracting you from the memories that plagued your thoughts today.

“Good afternoon, dearie!” Marianne chirped on the other end of the phone. “It’s a big day for you. The first half of your manuscript came back from the publisher, so get excited to do some editing!” Hiding away from the world for a year gave you a lot of time to think. For you, that meant time to write. Marianne seamlessly transitioned from being your publicist for your acting career to managing your budding career as an author, even helping you pick out a pseudonym.

“That’s great news,” you mumbled in reply, taking a long sip of your coffee, the bitterness blooming on your tongue.

“Are you alright? You sound, I don’t know, a little off,” Marianne questioned, concern lacing her normally peppy tone.

“It’s been one year, Marianne,” you replied, knowing she’d understand.

“Oh my,” Marianne said after a beat of silence. “It completely slipped my mind. How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright just a little…weird, I guess? I’m so relieved to have my own life again. But I’m also just kind of mourning my old life today.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Do you want me to come over after work–we can order takeout and watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” Marianne offered.

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to spend the day doing some self-care. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the manuscript timeline, right?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be at the café at 11:00 a.m. Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” Marianne asked, clearly not convinced that you were telling the truth about being alright.

“I’ll call you if I need you, I promise,” you reassured her.

“Night or day, Y/N, you know I’m here.”

After you both said your goodbyes and ended the call, you started to feel restless, needing something to take your mind off the date and the competing emotions swirling in your brain. You decided fresh air and comfort food were the solution.

Grabbing your keys off the table by the front door, you slipped on your shoes, heading for the local corner store in your neighborhood, mindlessly forgetting your hat on the hook on the wall.

---

Mask pulled over the lower half of his face to conceal his appearance, Yoongi slipped into a nearby corner store, saving himself from the prying eyes that seemed to be examining him a little too closely from across the street.

He had snuck out of the studio without security, wanting to just take a moment to breathe all to himself. He had driven around Seoul with no destination in mind, eventually stopping in a neighborhood he found with a quiet park for a walk. His thoughts betrayed him as they kept going back to you and the letter he received one year ago, now crumpled in the top righthand drawer of his desk. He didn’t need to pull it out today to remember exactly what it said.

Let me go.

Once he read those words, he had stopped reading, smashing the paper together between his fists in frustration, shoving it in the drawer. It had stayed unopened since last year.

Yoongi aimlessly wandered through the aisles of the store, his mind continuously returning to that drawer. He had worked so hard to stop thinking about it–about you–over the past year. Today was a harsh reminder that you were still on his mind. He had stopped calling a long time ago, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. Sometimes though, if he had a little too much to drink with the boys, he’d call your number just to hear your voice on the voicemail recording. He didn’t tell anyone about those late-night calls.

Rounding the aisle corner, he collided with someone, knocking the snacks they had bundled in their arms to the ground. They immediately knelt down, trying to collect them.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you,” Yoongi offered, starting to lean over.

“Oh, no that’s okay I’ve got it.” Yoongi froze, his body going rigid. That voice. Your voice. He hadn’t heard it in-person in over a year. The sweetness of it rang through his ears, reminiscent of the voicemail he knew by heart.

It was you. After all this time.

---

Standing up with your snacks back safely in your grasp, you looked at the man in front of you who seemed to be barely breathing.

You were about to ask if he was alright, but then you recognized it. The black hat–the one with two rings on the edge that he would often wear when he went out. His mask had slipped below his nose, his pale cheeks slightly squished under the pressure of the fabric. Black hair poked out from underneath the hat, falling onto his forehead and into his dark brown eyes. They were wide with shock.

You felt the color rush from your face, hands beginning to shake because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were safe. Safe in your self-made bubble away from the world.

Until he found you. And it burst.

You contemplated turning around, pretending you hadn’t recognized him. Leave him again. But you knew that wasn’t an option now. You had to face the thing you were most scared of–him.

“Yoongi, I-” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“Your hair,” Yoongi remarked, cutting you off, tone flat and quiet. “You cut your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “Just...wanted a change, I guess.”

Hide. You wanted to hide.

“You seem to have gone through a lot of changes,” Yoongi said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

You winced at the implication of his words. You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself before replying.

“Can we...can we not do this here?”

“Fine.”

“I live around the corner. Maybe we could just...talk?” you asked, averting your eyes to the ground. When you didn’t hear a reply, you looked back up to Yoongi, who nodded at you once in agreement.

Abandoning your would-be purchases, you walked out the front door of the store, Yoongi silently following behind you. You felt his eyes burning into your back.

Just put one foot in front of the other, you thought to yourself.

As you and Yoongi silently walked to your apartment, neither of you noticed the camera pointed at the two of you, snapping the photo that would change everything.

// Part 2

---

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#bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #run away to you fic #bts fanfiction #bts series #min yoongi #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga #suga x reader #sugar x y/n #bts au fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

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fanficshiddles · 3 years

Text

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 9

Kelly shut the curtains as soon as she got into the rather shabby B&B room. But it was the best she could afford in the meantime, she had no idea how long she was going to have to be on the run for, so didn’t want to blow all of her money too quickly.

She’d managed to budget herself to last on the run for around a year. She had to include hair dye into the monthly budget. As even though it had been two months, she had no idea if Loki was still looking for her or not, so she only went out in disguise to be on the safe side.

She was still not over what happened, what was still happening. And she knew it was all her fault, she would never be able to get over it. She had unleashed the monster, literally.

Not bothering to turn the TV on, she just got into bed and tried not to think about it all. The news was always filled with Loki now, and how he was conquering the world. Country after country was flocking to kneel under Loki’s rule. Otherwise, he was slaying every country that dared to defy him. Which soon brought them to heel, before they lost everyone.

Kelly was really jumpy, every noise right outside her room had her entire body going ridged, expecting the worst. It took her heart a while to stop racing after each noise. She knew she couldn’t carry on living like this, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Turning onto her side she curled up and cried herself to sleep, like she did every night. But her sleep was never peaceful, it was always laced with nightmares. Always of him. Most of the time, he was looming over her with her sisters’ body at his feet.

She woke up in a sweat, calling out for her sister. How she wished everything was just a nightmare, but no. She was living a nightmare.

Keeping on the move was her plan, so since she was awake anyway, even though it was only five in the morning, she decided to move on to the next place to stay. She had made it all the way up to Edinburgh by foot mainly but also a couple of bus trips. She just kept moving around from city to city, town to town. Wherever she could get to.

As Kelly made her way down the road, there was just a few people going about at that time of the morning. But she kept getting shivers down her spine, and not from the cold. It was like someone was watching her…

When she looked round over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of a tall, black-haired man amongst a small crowd of early risers heading to work. Her heart started racing in fear, thinking it was Loki, she quickly moved on and walked as fast as she could. When she glanced back in the direction of the man, there was no sign of him anymore.

She tried to shake it off, thinking it had just been her imagination. Surely if it had been Loki, he would’ve made his presence more known.

But as she made her way further into the centre of the city, she still had a really bad feeling that she was being followed. So she rushed into the bus station and bought a ticket to head further North, maybe if she headed out of the cities and tried the quieter villages, she might be able to stay under the radar better.

Just before she was able to pay for her ticket, there was sudden screaming and panic within the station.

‘What the…’ She looked around in confusion, but then she felt pure dread run through her veins as she saw the reason for the panic and chaos.

Loki.

He had stormed into the station in his regal armour, the biggest grin formed on his face when he locked eyes on Kelly.

‘No…’ She gasped out quietly, her legs suddenly turned to jelly as she tried to run with the others that were panicking.

Loki made his way towards Kelly straight away, with large purposeful strides as he towered above everyone else that was scarpering around him in terror.

She started running for the back exit, but Loki reached out towards her and Kelly suddenly felt as if there was a collar around her neck that was suddenly pulling her backwards towards him. She brought her hands up to her neck but couldn’t feel anything there, but there was definitely something pulling her back.

She panicked and screamed as she was dragged back towards Loki, who had stopped and was just pulling her towards him. When she was within grabbing distance, the invisible collar disappeared and she felt like she could run again.

But she was within striking distance. And Loki struck like a snake, grabbing her he forced her to the nearest wall and pinned her against it, his large dominant hand wrapped around her neck firmly. Her lower lip was trembling in fear as he sneered down at her, she tried clawing at his arm but it was futile.

‘Mmmm, I finally found you.’ Loki hummed low and squeezed her neck a bit harder in warning when she continued trying to struggle.

‘Plea… please… Let me go.’ She stuttered out between trying to take big breaths, his hand controlling her breathing wasn’t making it easy to talk.

‘Oh no, my little pet. You should be begging for my forgiveness, for that little stunt of running away from me. You have no idea how much of an inconvenience it was when I came to collect you, to find you gone. Ungrateful mortal.’ He growled, squeezing her neck again for a few seconds, making her splutter.

He could see the pure fear in her eyes.

‘However.’ He purred, easing up a little on his grip he rubbed his thumb up and down the side of her neck. ‘I wouldn’t be in the position I am now if it hadn’t been for you. And whilst I should punish you for being a naughty girl and disobeying me, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. This time. Because I know you’re my good girl really, aren’t you?’

Kelly closed her eyes and tried to tune him out. But of course, that could never happen.

‘Look at me!’ He demanded and squeezed her neck again, making her eyes fly open.

‘Maybe once I get you home, you’ll be more talkative. And I shall give you your reward, and finally claim what you owe me.’ His eyes darkened and he smirked, then leaned in and kissed her on the lips, despite her trying to move her head away to no avail.

She had no choice but to endure his lips moving against hers, he was surprisingly gentle, yet there was an urgency within him too. A very deep part of her was longing at his kiss, like it was a reminder of what she thought they once had… But she remembered that had all been fake, Loki had used her.

Loki pulled back slightly, licking his lips. ‘Now come, pet. Let me show you your new home.’ He grinned wickedly and released her neck.

But before she could even think about trying to run, a collar formed around her neck. Only this time it wasn’t invisible, she could feel it too with her hands as she tried pulling it off. There was a chain leash attached to it that Loki held, so she was going nowhere.

‘Come on.’ Loki growled and tugged her along as he headed out the main entrance.

When they stepped outside, some civilians that saw Loki started kneeling for him instantly. Some ran away. But Loki didn’t care about any of them, he had what he wanted.

Kelly couldn’t stop shaking and crying as Loki slipped his arm around her waist and held her in close, then teleported them both to the airport where Loki had a jet waiting for them. He hauled Kelly onto it, she wasn’t sure why she was even trying to still get away, she knew there was no chance.

Loki had the leash vanish, but the collar remained. As soon as it was off, she ran as far back in the jet as possible and cowered down in the corner. Loki chuckled and took a seat near the front, looking very pleased with himself.

‘There is a much comfier seat down here for you, pet. It might be a bumpy ride.’ Loki called back to her as the jet started off down the runway.

But Kelly was quite happy where she was, as far away from Loki as she possibly could be between some seats. Though she knew it wouldn’t be for long, the jet was already taking off into the sky. She didn’t know exactly where home was for Loki. She really didn’t want to know.

‘You know, it has been ok since I’ve been ruling your world. Not quite as fun and exciting as I had originally hoped, but I realised it’s been because I’ve been chasing you. Now that I’ve found you, the real fun can begin.’ Loki said casually as he opened a bag of salted nuts.

Kelly shivered at his tone and words, she didn’t want to know what he meant by that.

It only took half an hour to get to their destination. But it had felt more like ten hours for Kelly, with Loki trying to make small talk the whole way there, as if nothing was wrong. As if she was there of her own accord.

‘Isn’t this a delightful sight.’ Loki chuckled, looking out of the window.

Kelly was curious as to where she was. So she slowly moved onto her knees and leaned up on one of the seats to look out the window. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

They were coming to land in New York, but it wasn’t the New York she remembered.

For starters, where The Statue Of Liberty should be, was replaced with a ten times larger statue of Loki himself. Then as they headed into the city, where the Avengers tower used to be, a new tower was built. But it was much larger too, and on the side of it was Loki’s name in bright gold letters.

‘No… No.’ She sobbed and put her hand over her mouth in horror.

#Loki #tom hiddleston #tear you to pieces #fan fiction #dark Loki #Loki fic #Loki x OFC #Loki x original female character

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alovesongshewrote · 3 years

Text

Beauty, Beast, Bullets - Your Resume

Plot: yeah, yeah, Romania is full of vampires, werewolves, and metal-men, but the reader is not phased. In fact, they’re rather experienced. Heisenberg, specifically, is intrigued. [Karl Heisenberg x GenderNeutral!Reader]

Word Count: 1,191

Warnings: so, y’know the outlast games? trigger warning for basically everything that was in those games.

A/N: surprise, this is technically a crossover with Outlast and The Magnus Archives, but not really! you don’t need to know anything about either of those things to read this, it’ll just be really fucked up instead of, “Oh hey, I know what they’re talking about!”

Anyway, this fic is like, rated M for mature, so please read with caution

taglist: @mxcheese @blixeon @valentimmy @prismarts @chrysanthykios

masterlist

Back | Next

The village wasn’t your first brush with the weird and wacky horrors this world has to offer. Technically, it didn’t start with the asylum and Murkoff, either. Nah, your complicated relationship with the supernatural started when you got lost in a never-ending corridor at the age of twelve. That was a trip and a half, but really, it wasn’t. You’d never done drugs, and you weren’t asleep. Back then, you even had a normal sleep schedule. It was just a weird experience, though you got the sense that your therapist would doubt that. Especially since that fun trip wouldn’t be your last encounter with some pretty fucked up shit.

After the hallways, you’d been chased by creatures made of shadow, beings without faces, and honest to god, actual fucking werewolves. It wasn’t great. Your teenage years were spent cowering in fear, running from every threat that came at you, and trying not to die.

“Wasn’t great” is an understatement. Your teenage years fucking sucked.

Eventually, you got tired of being scared. You were sick of the fear. You hated it, and that led you right to the BSAA. You learned, there, how to fight the things that frightened you.

Fighting didn’t stop them. You spent your days seeing things out of the corners of your eyes and readying yourself to run at any moment. You felt eyes on your back, watching you, always. You felt hunted. You felt like you were losing your mind.

And then, one day, it all stopped. Not because you destroyed the source or anything, it just ended. You remember it was as if all of the monsters that lived to torment you had been removed from the universe in a millisecond.

Your fear was gone.

But the BSAA was not.

You had been working for the BSAA for about two years when the first Murkoff thing went down. Some guy with too much money and too much time had been conducting human experiments under the facade of an asylum, shit happened, the experiments escaped, and somehow, a couple of journalists got to the scene before you. Poor bastards.

The “Mount Massive” incident was a bit of a big deal, but, of course, it wasn’t big enough for the BSAA to send anyone important, so, they sent you. You had never been more afraid for your life than you were within those walls.

Your monsters were gone, and some cruel god had decided to replace them with innocent and guilty people alike tortured beyond recognition. You got the more docile of the survivors out of that hell and into actual healthcare. The more violent survivors had to be dealt with differently.

Once the site was cleared of survivors, you were then instructed to clean the asylum, just to make sure any biohazards ended up in the right hands. Really, you should’ve just burned the building. The asylum itself was a biohazard, soaked in blood, shit, and semen. The stench of piss and vomit permeated every space you entered. Every room was filled with more corpses than a damn graveyard. It was awful. And then, you found the tapes.

Hours upon hours of someone’s last moments, though you couldn’t tell his name, you could tell that he was really, really dedicated to his job. You never found his body.

You found others, though. Cadavers and corpses piled on top of each other, burned, and broken, and mutilated in ways you didn’t want to think about, much less describe. Then there were the documents, piles of paper detailing exactly what the fuck had been done to the patients over the asylum’s operating years. You had to read each and every one of them. At least half were stained with blood. For the first time in a long time, you were afraid again. You hated it.

You did not have a good time.

But you did a good job.

Good enough that the next time the Murkoff corporation fucked up, you were sent in once again.

Joy.

The second time, the mess was in Arizona. It was some cult that got fucked over by its proximity to another experiment. The people living there lost their minds entirely. The few you found alive were riddled with disease and bloodlust. There was one survivor, that time, and he wasn’t even a member of the cult. He was another fucking journalist, ironically enough. When you found him he was a muttering, shambling mess, tripping over corpses and calling out for someone named Jess.

You had him evacuated as quickly as possible.

He couldn’t get out of there soon enough.

That left you to investigate the wreckage. Once again, the entire location was covered with blood and shit, though it had the slim advantage of being mostly outdoors.

The bodies were worse, the second time around. It wasn’t that you weren’t used to seeing corpses at that point, you were more than used to seeing corpses. It was just that there were kids that time. Dead kids, and skinned adults. Perfect.

Of course, that wasn’t all of them. Most of the bodies had evidence of poison in their systems, which, admittedly, made clean up easier. For the most part.

Just before the Arizona cult had come onto the BSAA’s radar, there had been an explosion in the mountains. That was actually why your bosses knew about the damn thing in the first place. The ruble was a joy to clean up, honestly.

In the months that followed, you tried to wash the blood off of your hands. It wouldn’t leave. It was a small mercy that you weren’t afraid of the cult’s remnants, but something worse hung on your shoulders. Guilt. Despair.

You’d spent the majority of your Spring cleaning up corpses, it was valid to feel that way. You deserved time to grieve. The BSAA did not care. You were on the field again before the end of the year.

At least your third case wasn’t a Murkoff thing. Nope, you’d been deemed important enough to serve under Chris fucking Redfield, which was apparently a big deal, but by then you didn’t really care.

There were fewer corpses that time. It was mostly just black goop. Sometimes, you had to shoot the black goop. It wasn’t much you hadn’t done before, all things considered. It was just another rotten place, further along than most, but decomposing nonetheless. You weren’t scared. You didn’t feel guilty or sad, either. Just disgusted.

There were more survivors, though. That was nice. They weren’t even journalists, which was a bonus. You were actually enjoying the slight change of pace.

Then Chris Redfield pulled you aside and told you to quit your job.

That was a little bit too much change.

You did it anyway.

The BSAA should’ve given you more time off.

For a while after that, you just floated in space, waiting for something to happen. Life became mundane. Boring. It almost made you long for another endless corridor to run down, or a faceless crowd or shadow creature to chase you.

You didn’t get any of those things.

But you did get werewolves because Chris “boulder-punching asshole” Redfield sent you to buttfuck nowhere Romania. It was plagued with werewolves. You were warned of this.

You went anyway.

#karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg x reader #Karl heisenberg x y/n #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x you #re8 x reader #resident evil 8 x reader #beauty beast bullets #lovesong's writing

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ktheist · 3 years

Text

1 | play me like a toy [m]

title inspired by blackpink’s sure thing cover.

⟶ read the last part, all yours to enjoy, here.

muses. mafia heiress!reader x ex-mafia!director!hoseok

genre. age gap factor. chaebol-mafia family au. arranged marriage au. office au. modern au.

words. 5.8k

warnings. contains smut. mentions of gun use. mentions of cheating.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs.

synopsis.

sit still, look pretty.

such were the words your maid-turned-mistress of a mother has ever taught you. the mindless marionette mask worked for the most parts. but when you find yourself hanging by a thread - or is it the beeping line of your dying father’s heart rate monitor? - you decide it’s time to shed off that mask and seek han group’s infamous loyal dog that went off radar 17 years ago.

jung hoseok.

alternatively;

“marry me or be killed.”

“is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

jung hoseok is in a dry spell.

there was no doubt as to whether he could score a date, get laid and maybe even have his nightstand to call him up again exactly the week after.

the issue was time.

with his boss and longtime friend getting married, he ends up coming to work with a different pile of papers on his desk every day. well, it was his idea to sign a promissory note that if kim namjoon ever found a woman he loved and married, hoseok would take half of the ceo-ly workload so his overbearing boss could enjoy his honeymoon and truly, as hoseok would put it, live.

the order went a little differently but namjoon found a hole in the way the sentences were worded that got him flying away to the caribbean and leaving hoseok to fend for himself in these trying times.

oh, and it’s almost hit the third month of the newly weds going mia.

in the first place, he didn’t think namjoon would hold the agreement over his head like he was flexing a few hundred thousand dollar’s worth of lawsuit.

but the man did just that and now hoseok is slaving over his nine-to-five which actually tend to drag on till ten or, if he’s lucky, even midnight. sure, he got promoted from head secretary to director but he’s wondering if this endless cycle of coming back home only pass out in the bed and wake up earlier than a parent with a toddler - is worth it.

hoseok groans, his hand grabbing around for his phone to put a stop on that obnoxious alarm even if it’s just for five minutes before he has to hear it again.

and grab something he did, but this so called phone feels too soft to be a phone and shapes like an cup but softer and - he puts more pressure to his grasp out of confusion -

“mhm, what the hell?”

- it complains in a groggy voice too.

almost as if pricked by a needle, hoseok leaps right out of bed, sending the duvet flying to the floor and revealing the naked woman - you - who’s stretching her limbs whilst her face scrunches in displeasure at the rude awakening.

“__-___?! wh-what the- what are you doing in my bed?”

“so you touched my boob,” you say, legs crossed and arms folded over said boob.

“i-i-” it’s the first time you’ve ever seen hoseok opened his eyes so wide - he has pretty eyes. especially when they’re brimming with fear and bashfulness, “i’m sorry, i have no excuse.”

he hangs his head low.

“why didn’t you touch the other one?”

it’s then, when hoseok’s eyes snap up to you, gaze searching for a sign - any sign, to confirm that he misheard that, does the man realize that you’re messing with him.

that, and you doubling over with laughter trickling out of your mouth should be affirmation enough.

“god, you should’ve seen your face, hobi!” you’re still holding your stomach when hoseok’s shoulders stiffen and his round eyes turn sharp.

“that’s not something you joke about, ___,” he says, it’s easy to mistake his sternness with anger if you didn’t know him your whole life, “are you gonna let it go every time someone disrespects you? mr. han would��ve snapped their neck in half-”

“hoseok, come on,” you cut him off with a dismissive hand, “none of those gory talks about snapping necks and pulling out nails. that’s the reason i end up here in the first place.”

it’s the way silence lulls into the room and hoseok looks at you with the hardest knitted brows and eyes that seem to have retracted his soul far back into his memories, as though searching for something - that makes your heart drop.

all sense of humor now gone.

“you don’t remember what happened last night... do you?” the last part is just an addition to ease your throbbing heart.

if you’d left it as a statement, it made it more real that he did forget.

just a man, sitting at a half empty bar, three shots of vodka in and hostility in his voice that could’ve killed but so very hoseok of him, “that seat’s taken.”

aloof. distant. and every word in the book that described a man who didn’t want to be bothered and he drowned himself in alcohol.

“i’ll leave once the owner comes back,” you’d slipped into the seat anyway, despite the heat of hoseok’s stare.

not paying any heed, you ordered yourself a margarita.

“it’s been awhile, hasn’t it, hobi?”

that’s when he turned to you. truly looked at you.

“do you perhaps have a little sister who,” his eyebrows began to knit as if the screws in his head started turning, “would be about your age by now... ____?”

you didn’t really catch up. all you could remember was hoseok’s calculative stare as he watched you down one drink after the other. the the chilliness of the margarita somewhat soothing the burning sensation as it went down your throat.

“that’s the fifth for you,” his large hand covered yours, stopping you from picking up the glass as he cautioned you.

“yeah? i’m only stopping if i have something else to occupy my mouth with.”

in his distracted state as he tried to make sense of what your words meant, you lifted the glass to your mouth and downed the last of your drink.

and then, you stood up, walked the tiniest distance between your seat and his, grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips on his.

you remembered your confidence dissipating like air with every second passing without hoseok so much as responding to your kiss.

maybe it was the shock.

because one that passed, you found his arm around your waist and his lips kissing you harder than you kissed him.

you stumbled into your car, not caring if yeojun had a front row view from the rearview mirror of the things that transpired at the back seat. you barely remember the walk from the parking lot to his apartment.

those sweet whispered promises. the hands that burned your skin with every touch. those eyes that pierced right into your eyes, as if invisible hands reached into your soul and grasped it in his palm.

“mine,” hoseok husked, voice sending ripples of pleasure dripping down your legs. he’d thrust himself balls deep inside you, like a beast who hadn’t had a drop of water since the drought, “you’re mine from head to toe.”

if that wasn’t enough, he fucked you raw until you were at your limit and he’d just... stop.

“hoseok, why-” you’d been breathless, skin glistening with sweat and knees trembling to give in but he’d banded an arm under your torso and held you to him so your bodies remained connected even if none of you moved.

“you think i’d just let you cum so easily?” he placed a hand on your ass, as if warning you what would happen if you’d pull away, “after all these years... you grew up fine as fuck.”

he’d languidly pulled out of you, as if knowing how torturous it felt for you with his fingers on your clit that sent electricity through your veins.

“what is it, hm? is it the kang’s or is it the seong’s? i guess the rumor about boss being hospitalized was true,” his words barely registered in your mind as his index finger touched your back and traced down your spine whilst he started thrusting in and out of you agonizingly slow.

“please, just fuck me,” you’d hissed, pain and pleasure and frustrations mixed in your voice.

“hm, still as tight-lipped as ever, huh?” he’d sounded completely relaxed as if the smacking sound that echoed in the air as his body slammed against your deliciously - didn’t affect him in the slightest.

as if he took no pleasure in fucking you. as if this was only for your poor little soul that came running back to him because you had no one to depend on.

“y-you have to- ah! s-swear your l-loyalty to- oh my god,” it was last night, while the citylights poured through hoseok’s window, his room was directly across another apartment building.

“loyalty, huh?” he tested the words on his mouth, as if it was a foreign candy gifted to him as present.

his body feels hot against your back as he lowered himself flush against you, his breath fanning your sweat-glistened skin, his voice brushing the shell of your ear, “you should know i’m yours as much as you’re mine. nothing i wouldn’t do for you, kiddo.”

he’d used that nickname he’d used to call you as he fucked you into his bed, and sent you moaning his name like you wouldn’t know any other name.

anyone could’ve seen.

neither of you cared though.

well-

you throw your gaze out at the twenty storey building, noticing a man vacuuming the living room three units to the left from the unit directly across from hoseok’s. above him, two kids, a boy and a girl are jumping around while holding an airplane in their hands.

-until now, that is.

hoseok had become an entirely different person last night. no - rather, he’d returned to you as the man you’d always kept in that special spot in your heart and locked it up so no one would be able to see past your steel schooled expression and the devil may care nature.

“i...”

your gaze snaps back to hoseok once again. he parts his lips for the briefest moment, as if to say something but clamps them shut again. the way his eyes gleam with guilt is enough to tell you the unspoken words that hang in the air.

and yet, your heart hardens like the steel mask you often wear on your face.

“and... to think i gave you my virginity too...”

the silence that lapses between you is tangible.

“sike, i’m kidding,” you grin, brows rising to the ceiling but when hoseok doesn’t so much as laugh or frown - he simply looked at you like a parent disappointed of his child who still didn’t see why what she did was wrong - you tilt your head to the side slightly, “or am i?”

“ugh, you’re no fun,” you throw your head back after failing to gouge a reaction from the man who screamed bloody murder as if you’re some street rat that he was so close to calling infestation control.

“i need to meet mr. han,” he announces after a whole solid minute of sitting on the edge of the bed with feet planted on the floor.

“what for? what are you gonna tell daddy? ‘i’m sorry i took your daughter’s virginity, sir, it won’t happen again?’“ you watch him get up, tongue unconsciously slipping out and sweeping over your bottom lip as you watch the curve of his ass as he walks to the closet and disappears into it.

“were you really a virgin?” he comes out dressed in fresh crisp button down tucked in a pair of black pants, a contrast to his rolled up sleeves, creased shirt and disheveled hair from last night.

“i don’t know, did it feel like i was?” you shoot him a coquettish smile.

the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his lingering gaze on your crossed, bare legs not going unnoticed by you. you’re donned in last night’s dinner dress that hugs your curves and stops mid thighs.

but his gaze is gone too soon.

“you’re not seriously going to daddy, are you?” you tug on his sleeve just before he steps out of the door, “hobi, i’m just kidding, i’ve been with multiple guys before you,” the way his brows threaten to knit into a frown doesn’t go pass you but it’s gone too soon, “and does daddy like the idea? he’s not fond of it, but he knows he can’t stop me from doing whatever i want with my own body.”

the beep of the door as he opens it rings in the air as he looks at you in the eye, “did any of those men work for mr han?”

only silence follows his reply as you bite your lower lip, hesitant.

“we can’t hide this- mr han might already know. he has eyes and ears-” hoseok steps out of the door only to stop dead in track when he sees at least half a dozen men lined up in front of his apartment in black suits.

“good morning, miss ____.” they bow at exactly 90 degrees angle like robots.

“-everywhere...” hoseok trails off, eyes scanning the area on high alert.

“don’t worry, they’re not daddy’s men. they’re my men,” you raise one hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling as you shoot them an expression void of any smile.

they seem to understand that as they dip into a bow again, the leader, yeojun, stops in front of the elevator when he and his men would have joined you in any other circumstances.

“it’s not about saving my own ass, ___,” hoseok begins.

the way his arms cross over his chest makes his sleeves wrap deliciously around his biceps.

his deep brown eyes appear like a hazel storm under the sunlight that pours from every crevice of the parking lot where the elevator stopped at. “mr. han asked me to protect you from everything and i’m sure he hired someone else after i left to keep trash men away from you... and to think i did exactly what he wanted me to protected you from-”

“hobi,” nimble hands hover over his chest before you gaze up at him through your lashes, making sure to give it a slow, innocent blink before speaking, “i didn’t regret what happened last night. and you trying to apologize for someone i’m not sorry kind of hurts.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t think of it that way...” he trails off, lips pressed in a straight line as though deep in thought.

“if it makes you that uncomfortable, i won’t talk about it but promise me this stays between us, please?” you hold up a pinky finger like you would when you were younger.

the smile that makes its way to hoseok lips causes your heart to palpitate just when it’s barely calmed down.

his pinky finger is much larger than yours as it hooks around yours in a promise, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. as if he’s still unsure if he should be making any promises. as if he’s unsure if he should be hooking his pinky with yours instead of pushing you as far away from him as he could. but before he can come to a conclusion, a voice reverberates into the air.

“miss ____.”

the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath rings in your ear as a dozen men in black suits bow at the sight of you.

before another word comes out from anyone else, you speak, voice echoing against the walls.

“listen up you sons of bitches, if i find out any of you snitched to daddy, i’ll make sure your wife, your husband, your kids, your grandparents, hell even your neighbors pay for it. got it?”

a round of rigorous “yes, miss!” follows after the splitting silence that hovered after you finished.

turning around, almost getting lost in those pretty, star entrapped eyes of his, you smile, “see, they’re loyal to me.”

“uh, i can see why.” it’s the humorous tone that finally wraps around hoseok’s words that makes your heart clench painfully.

he’s still the same hoseok you know.

some things never change.

“well, i’ll lend you one of my cars,” you say all of a sudden.

almost as if hit by a foul ball, hoseok’s eyes widen, “shi- what time is it?”

you don’t expect much when you check your phone, the digits on the screen staring back with a 9-something am - you don’t care to check the details, “late.”

“fuck, i was so focused on gathering enough balls to meet mr. han - i need to get the papers i was supposed to look over for today’s meeting,” a string of curses follow hoseok’s scampering retreat. and you simply watch in your spot - he’s always been such a klutz, forgetting the important details and scrambling to get what he’d forgotten and just remembered - done.

before the doors of the elevator close and swallow him in its belly, hoseok’s nimble fingers slip between the shutting gap, making the doors split open again, “oh,” he says, as if remembering something, “you don’t have to do that - i can drive, i got a driver’s license like, eons ago.”

right.

when he left, he was only 18 and had nothing more but a duffle bag filled with all his belongings and an acceptance letter of the university he applied to.

hoseok had been driving you around everywhere before that. he got pulled over by a cop once but your father easily handled that.

jung hoseok’s been with you for as long as you remember.

you recall bawling your eyes out and clinging onto his leg, begging him not to leave because your nanny left and you found out a few months later that her body was found washed up along the river bank near her hometown.

mr. kim, the gardener quit and said he wanted to visit his kids but the whole family ended up dying in a fire.

everyone who left ends up dead.

pushing the somber feeling that’s threatening to pull the muscles in your face into a frown, you shake your head, an amused smirk tugging on your lips as you mask away every other feeling.

“you really don’t remember anything, do you?” somewhere in that innocently clueless gaze of his, you search for a lie - it would’ve been better if he lied about forgetting for whatever reason.

but when the genuinity over pours from those pretty eyes, you push away the gnawing feeling in your heart, “we were both shit faced drunk last night so we came to your place with my driver and you left your car at the bar’s parking lot.”

“oh shit,” he begins punching the button on the inside of the elevator, “i won’t take long, i pro-”

the metal doors gradually shut, cutting off what he was about to say.

“p-please, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything...” the man’s words got blurred out as you stare out the window of his medium sized flat with a master bedroom, a room and a bathroom connected to the common area.

it’s been a week since you met hoseok. you want to be mad that he doesn’t call, especially after not seeing each other for so long and finally reuniting only for him to forget everything about that night.

but you didn’t even give him your number and you may or may not be mad that he didn’t think to ask.

a bloodcurdling scream drums against your eardrums, making you physically flinch as your head snaps towards the man lying on the ground with his mouth wide open and no longer any sound coming out.

his head is titled at the new guy who’s standing over him with a baton gripped in one hand. the sight itself makes the pit of your stomach churn.

“god fucking damn it, yeojun,” you shoot a glare at the head bodyguard, “didn’t you teach him rule number 1? make no sound, catch no attention?”

at that, yeojun snaps his fingers and two of the bodyguards closest to the new guy - soon? soobin? was his name? - approach him. one of them places a firm hand on his shoulder whilst he kicks soobin behind his knee, sending him kneeling with a thud.

“i’m sorry, miss ___, it seems soobin,” ah so you did get his name right, “needs to join mr. yoo here in learning a thing or two about obeying orders.”

yeojun doesn’t even flinch when one of your donned-in-black bodyguard strikes one of their own at the back of his head with that baton they usually carry around their waist.

soobin’s face scrunches up painfully as he breathes out through his nose, teeth gritting together.

“you boys, break some things and you, get the car ready,” with that, the bodyguards hovering over the middle-aged borrower and soobin begin scampering around, toppling shelves over, pushing vases to the ground and breaking plates in the kitchen.

“you were too nice,” yeojun murmurs underneath his breath once you’re in the hallway, the sound of glass shattering and furniture breaking still echo off the walls.

“i shouldn’t even be doing this shit anyway. who does he think i am? sending me to take care of small fries...” agitated, you shoot yeojun a glare.

to which he only responds with raised eyebrows, as if asking if you’d go against your brother’s orders just because you’ve never liked to see violence yet violence follows you everywhere.

“let’s see.... richest bachelor, heir to han group, one of the biggest conglomerate family that runs the underground ring...” the black haired man starts counting off with his finger until you swing your purse to his side.

“which side are you on? me or my chanyeol’s?!”

laughter trickles down his lips as he follows you into the elevator. somewhere in the distance, the hallway faintly rings with the fading sound of mr. yoo’s helpless pleas.

when you arrive at kimcorp, the secretary shoots up from your seat, her smile is gorgeous and welcoming but the knitted set of brows above her eyes do a poor job of hiding her anxiousness.

odd.

you didn’t use the han name to get past the receptionist, only mentioning “hoseok is expecting me, tell him i have something of his he’d really like back.”

was it the lavish dinner dress? was it the couture handbag?

“ah, it’s the fox fur, isn’t it?” you twirl on your heels, lips curling prettily as you narrow your eyes at the startled secretary.

she’s standing there like a thief caught red-handed. as if her worst nightmares came true the moment you started saying something besides the “i’m here to see jung hoseok.”

“i-i’m sorry, ma’am?” her shoulders tense up and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“nothing, it’s nothing,” you put on a billion dollar smile - one that she seems to be struggling to wear.

before the poor thing peed her pants, you turn around, your back on her and push on the double doors of the office with a white plate that spells out “head director jung.”

the syllables of your name roll off the mouth of the man behind the large desk that almost takes up half of the room, piles of documents stacked up on either sides while the middle section is cleared for a mac and a macbook perched directly in front of him.

“you sound surprised, didn’t the receptionist tell you i was coming?” you put on your best smile even as you watch him push a button on a smaller-than-a-palm-sized remote directed at the cctv and dash for the blinds and close them so that the secretaries facing his room won’t have any visual access to what goes on from now on.

“yeji didn’t specify who,” he says mindlessly, still peeking through the blinds - possibly to check if anyone noticed the sudden move.

somehow, hearing the name of another woman leaving hoseok’s lips doesn’t sit right with you.

“since you easily told her to send me right up, i assume you have an idea of who it was,” a devious smile tugs in the corners of your lips as the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath brushes your ears.

as he was in the middle of turning around and facing you, you managed to catch him off guard and trap him between the window and yourself. the ridges of his toned abs brushing against your front torso with only layers of clothing separating you.

the warning tone he uses to say your name with is music to your ears.

he sounded like the old him. the old hoseok who’d drive his fist into anyone’s face without batting an eye. the old hoseok who would turn to your crying frame with the sweetest smile and hand you back your backpack that fell on the ground amidst the struggle of trying to bite and kick your kidnappers in the shin.

“i missed you, you know?” your voice is tinged with playfulness but your heart skips a beat like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“i-i... we...”

the words get stuck in his throat the moment your lips brush his. what surprises you is the softest sigh that leaves his mouth before a large hand buries itself in your hair, pulling you close until he’s tasting you. licking your bottom lip as if asking for something he didn’t need to ask for in the first place.

his free hand grasps your ass as if he’s been dying to feel your soft cheeks in his palm. you part your lips for him, tasting the faintest sense of cigarette in his breath.

hoseok tends to smoke when something bothers.

you hope it’s you. you hope he lays in bed at night, staring at the ceiling. you hope you’re all he thinks about.

by the time you pull apart, you’re both heaving for air. a soft thud drums in your ears as hoseok leans his head against the blinds-covered-window. you press your cheek against his chest, face hot.

one of his hands sits on top of your ass as if paying his overdue respect for your body but yet unwilling to let you go. the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb mindlessly caressing your scalp.

“hoseok?” you’re the first to break the silence.

he simply hums in response, “hm?”

“i can’t give it back,” you turn your cheek to bury your face in his chest, your voice coming out muffled, “i can’t give back your freedom.”

“so you’re saying you can’t let me go...” hoseok echoes the words you say to him.

but the way his lips curl into a pleased smirk and his white shirt creasing at the front from having your bodies pressed together a moment ago, gives those words a different meaning than you intend them to.

somehow, the distance between you seems smaller.

“thanks miyeon,” hoseok’s smile switches to that of a kind, considerate superior.

miyeon, the woman who guided you to hoseok’s office returns his smile. but you don’t miss the cautious gaze she throws your way before slipping out of the room after setting down the tea cups.

he’s back to himself. the kind that jumps at every little sound and tends to wear a frightened puppy look almost too often.

“no, rather...” you trail off, chanyeol’s face burning at the back of your mind - your brother, the heir to han group and the man that will marry you off to the kang’s in order to mend the strain in the family ties as soon as your father breathes out his last breath.

you shake your head, a smile on your face, “it’s been awhile, how bout catching up over lunch?”

and so it goes, you visit hoseok every few days in a week. at times you tell the secretary to keep your visit a secret so you could surprise him, you’d end up catching him neck deep in work yet he still manages to pull off the rolled up sleeves, two buttons undone and slicked back hair with a single strand falling over his forehead, its tip grazing those set of strong eyebrows.

when you knock, he looks up and the tension in his brows seem to fade away. he shoots you a dimpled smile as if he’s been waiting for you to whisk him away from work.

and you do just that. arm looped around his, you both walk out of his office like lovers.

hoseok talks about his past - the one you’re not part of - fondly. as if looking through a lense of something he never dreamed he could have.

at first, he attracted the wrong kind of crowd with his permanently set furrowed brows. but then he finds things he enjoys doing outside of classes that he couldn’t get to enjoy when he was with han group.

dancing, tracks, boxing and more. he likes that rush of adrenaline that courses through his veins.

and you tell him about the meetings and gatherings and social events to maintain your relationships with the vassal families. they’re usually attended by the women of the han family which means you and han chohee would be smiling and laughing together in front of the wives and daughters of the vassal families before taking off that loving step-mother-and-step-daughter facade once you walk out of the vicinity.

your lunches and dinners are spent with trips down memory lane, filling the other in on the moments each of you miss in each other’s lives. and for a moment, the hoseok in front of you who flinches at the sight of bugs and little, random noises feel familiar.

that is, until you hit your one month reunion mark.

chanyeol’s been gathering support of the vassals by personally accepting their invitations.

his presence easily overshadowed yours and yeojun confirmed that your father’s condition isn’t getting any better.

“i need you to come back and work for me, half of the men would drop everything and follow you,” you stare at the girl staring back at you on the surface of the tea. she bites her lips and you feel the faintest taste of blood in your mouth.

eyes snapping to his calculative ones - as if he already knows what you’re going to say before the words even pass your lips, “i need you by my side so i can take over han group.”

the hoseok sitting in the single couch next to you with parted legs and feet planted on the dark carpeted ground fits the head director setting better than the inked skin, cigarette smoke and gun-in-waistline setting you’re about to drag him in.

“you’re willing to go against chanyeol to become the head of the family?” he asks, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

hoseok’s always been an enigma. his mind, a maze you’ll never end up figuring out.

guess that part of him is still the same.

“it’s not a choice for me to make,” a clean click! resonates in the air as you place the gun you’d pulled from your garter, point facing him, index finger on the trigger, “you have two though.”

it’s the way his eyebrows rise whilst his eyes glint with amusement tells you that hoseok - your hoseok - is still somewhere in there.

throw a sane man into an asylum and he’ll start going insane. put a mad man back in society and he’ll trick you into believing he’s sane with his warm, dimpled smile.

“marry me or be killed,” you say simply.

that amused glint is still there, granted, it shines faintly compared to the caution that overflows from those sun-hit brown eyes as they fix themselves on the gun perched on the see-through coffee table before they travel to your knuckles, to your arm and meet your steel gaze.

his the softest protrusion of his adam’s apple drops and rises again as he swallows, “is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

the air is dense with tension. it fills up your lungs and almost causes your chest to cave. you’re not sure how long to stay there, stiff and still like a rock with your back straightened as if your etiquette teacher was hovering right behind you with a long, wooden ruler that’d be ready to strike your arm at a slump of your shoulders.

but liberation comes to you in the form of a phone call.

“___, we have to go, th-the boss- the doctor says he’s not gonna make it through the night.” it’s the first time you’ve heard yeojun stammer as if he hasn’t quite yet recovered from the shock of the news he’s relaying to you.

“are you sure?” you can almost hear the thump of the organ in your chest slowing down before it ceases to throb completely, “you know how bad chanyeol wanna fuck me up, he could’ve made the doctor tell you this because he knows you’ll tell me and if... if i rush there and daddy’s laughing that obnoxious laugh while trying to make pass on the nurse like he usually does...”

yeojun grunts, “yes, ___. i have men planted there as patients, nurses, janitors and they all say the same thing - that the doctors are rushing to the vip ward and they’re trying to make it look like your usual hourly check up but it’s not... look, this is the real thing. if we mess up, there won’t be another chance. now, did you convince hoseok to come back?”

almost as if reminded that you’re not the only person in the room, your eyes snap to hoseok whose eyes are already fixed on you with a concerned expression.

“he’ll come back.” with that, you hang up the call.

“i’d love for you to think it through for a few days, realize this isn’t really a life you want and come to me on your own to sign our prenups,” you say casually, placing down the teacup and slipping your phone back into your handbag as if you’re getting ready to leave the tea party, “but...”

but before you can lift the gun and fully point it at him, a large hand covers yours. his warmth seeps through your pores and makes your body feel warmer.

“the gun’s a bit excessive,” his breath fans your face as your eyes fix on the supple skin of his neck.

it’s as if invisible hands reached out and held your head in place, forbidding you from tilting it and gazing into his eyes. his fingers reach over the back of the gun, grazing your hands.

a click cuts through the silence.

“at the very least, unlock the safety,” his teasing tone doesn’t match his saddened eyes.

and just as you thought you’d closed the distance between you and him, the circumstance forces you to take five steps back.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok fic #bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenarios

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alphabravocharliedelta · 3 years

Text

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader IX

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Word Count: 6500+

[Chapter VIII] [Chapter X]

Summary: After somehow reconciling with Adler, Bell and the team are left to continue their pursuit of bringing down the undercover spy ring, but it proves to be more of a challenge as Bell struggles to move on from their Perseus-affiliated past.

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, mention of drugs, straight up agony

Notes: Writing action is so hard.

January 21, 1984

The Pines Mall, New Jersey

Two hours.

That was the slim interval between Stitch's departure from the safehouse to Zenya and Adler's arrival to the mess left behind.

He missed you by two hours.

Thus, with each minute that passed, your chances of survivability lowered.

With these kinds of thoughts wracking around in Adler's brain, the plane ride to New Jersey was becoming more tense than it should have. He couldn't even rest during the flight, and instead just crossed his arms and looked out the window into darkness.

Not only was the lives of innocent people on his shoulders, but you were also part of the mix and taken hostage. If he were to ease up now, there was the chance of a slip up. Adler needed to concentrate, but without you there, it felt like a piece was missing— a big chunk gone from the whole.

He had but a few hours to assemble a team. A part of him didn't want to participate in the mission to the Pines Mall, but he was the one leading the squadron, so there was no other option available.

Thus, Adler dreaded at the thought of finding out what Stitch had in store for him. Simultaneously, though, he was itching for the encounter to release his pent up stress and project the anger. The last interaction he had with his nemesis was taking out his left eye, and the last thing he heard about him was that Kravchenko sent him to prison. But, as it turns out, you broke him out, and let the monster loose.

Did he blame you? No, not entirely, since he himself had a part to play in the end. Everything about you stemmed from him. Like Hudson said back then, if he only killed Perseus in Vietnam, they didn't have to deal with Greenlight. And if he just killed Stitch, you wouldn't be in this situation.

But if those events didn't happen, he would have never met you. It was bothersome to consider that the world worked in such a way.

A meeting was held right as he and Zenya got off the plane, and he had made the call ahead of time to assemble a small team consisting of himself, Zenya, Wyatt “Bulldozer” Jones, and Woods. Mason and Lazar were quick to volunteer the moment he broke the news to them earlier, but he couldn't let them on. Because Hudson wouldn't allow it.

"Bell's not a traitor."

It was taking Adler’s entire willpower not to blow off at him. And yet at the simple suggestion that you went rogue, he went ballistic. How ironic it was to hear someone else tell him the same excuse he told Lazar, Mason, Sims, and Woods after returning alone from the cliff. Even as stupid as it sounded, a lie that fell so easily off of one’s tongue can become a truth to many.

"I know that, Adler. Trust me, I’m not too keen on it either,” Hudson proclaims. “I don’t know what’s going on through Black’s mind. He wasn’t too eager to find out that the asset was taken off radar.”

"The asset you asked Bell to meet was a Perseus agent. How did that fly under the radar? Bell did what should have been done a long time ago."

Adler was seething, trying his utmost best to not storm out of the room.

"The orders are to execute any hostiles. And, unfortunately, that includes Bell. The mission comes first, I hope you remember that. Lives of thousands of civilians are at stake, and I don't need your personal agenda—"

"You made an exception for Mason. They shouldn't be any different."

"Mason is one of our own."

"And Bell isn't? You were at DEFCON 2, and even then you put your trust in Mason. Or are we just playing favorites now?"

Hudson pressed his lips in a thin line, unable to come up with an explanation or excuse. This scenario was too uncanny, almost like a replica of what they went through years ago. In Hudson’s place was Adler, as you were to Mason. As much as he hated to admit it, he had actually taken a liking to you. But, having to balance out the decisions made between him, Adler, and Black was crucial, and this was the best option to tackle the situation at play.

“Bell provided us the information we needed to even have this mission in the first place,” Adler continued to interpose, “We at least owe them the benefit of the doubt.”

“Look, Adler. I had enough trouble as is just trying to convince the higher ups to let you lead the team. This isn’t my call, or your call to make. It’s Black’s,” was all Hudson could respond with. “If you mess this up, then everything is done for.”

“We’ll see about that.”

As if on cue, Lazar, Woods, and Sims pile into the room. “So, what’s the game plan?” Woods inquires, his usual attitude shifting into a more pensive state.

“Priority is the gas and Stitch and his men. It’s up to us to find Bell after that’s taken care of.”

"That's not what I said, Adler," Hudson dictates. All eyes avert to him. "If Bell's considered hostile, then treat them as one."

"This is my team, Hudson, I tell them what I want them to hear. Worry about briefing your own squad." Hudson gives him a hard look before parting. Adler redirects his attention to Sims. "Did you get what I asked?"

His friend nods, plopping down a folder. "Right here." Skimming through the contents, he pulls out an intricate blueprint of the Pines mall, handing it over. "The surveillance cameras were sabotaged just a couple hours before you came back from Berlin, but I managed to restore a couple of them."

Still photos from said film were thrown into the mix of papers, Adler running his fingers down the edges. They had limited lighting, but judging from the context, it was Stitch's henchmen placing canisters around the mall.

No evidence of you.

"Is that all?"

"Just one more. Aerial pics. The canisters seemed to be focused at the middle of the place."

Woods joins in, asking the question Adler had been dying to ask: "Any signs of Bell?"

"One of the security guards reported that a couple of large semi-trucks were seen unloading at the back," Lazar chimes, "There's no camera in the storage area, but I'm guessing that's—"

"Don't worry about Bell. We can find them once we deactivate the bomb."

Lazar trails off as a disgruntled look appears on his face. It was the coldness in Adler's voice that stunned him the most. Considering that you and Adler managed to re-establish a relationship over the past few months was surprising on it's own, and to hear him just brush you off and infer that you were a liability was… shocking. "But—"

"If the bomb goes off, we're done for. And if we're all dead then what's the fucking point?" Adler rubs out the butt of his cigarette. "Eliminate all threats first, then once that's over we can look for [L/N]. That's the best outcome we can achieve."

“So you’re just telling me to ignore the fact that Hudson labeled Bell as an enemy?” Woods

"Black did, not Hudson," Adler corrects. As much as they weren’t seeing eye to eye, there was no reason to hold grudges. They were both in a tight spot, so he had to give some credit to him for sticking through it all. The guy managed to get him to lead the team, and that was all he could have asked for. "Don't heed any attention to it. Bell's going to be fine, so just focus on the mission. That's all I'm going to say on that matter, got it?"

He's met with nods and hushed agreement.

In contrast to his words, Adler felt his gut churn as he listened to himself. It was perfectly within reason to model the mission in such a way, and doing so would ensure the safest route of getting you, and everyone else, alive. He could only place blind trust in you to hold strong on your own while they finish their business. It hurt him enough trying to put the partition in the relationship to avoid clouding his judgement, but he needed everything to work out. For the sake of you and the general public.

With the few hours remaining, he couldn't sleep comfortably leading up to the operation. Adler spent most of the time checking up on equipment, making sure everything was working properly and that nothing was missing. From the attachments down to the amount of bullets in a magazine, he checked it all. How could he rest, knowing the fact that you were out there at the mercy of the enemy?

And he blamed himself for it. He should have brought you along. You were stuck in West Berlin for the majority of the time ever since they found you, and he couldn’t even give you the small opportunity to return to the states. How you were excited to go to Washington, only for him to break the news. The sheer look of disappointment on your face physically hurt. And because of his neglect, you were gone.

“I'm trusting you on this one Adler,” Lazar had told him. “We all are. Probably not the best thing to have on your shoulders, but it's for Bell's sake. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Despite the positive words, it was easy to detect the nervousness and worry wrapped between them. Everyone who came to know you could only suck up their emotional baggage and lock it up as the time to deploy neared.

So when the helicopter landed on the side of the mall, Adler tried his hardest to set his feelings aside. It was all part of this line of work; there was bound to be sacrifices. Losing teammates and friends was a price to pay. He's been doing this for years, and he should be used to it.

He takes a deep inhale before exhaling silently and exiting the vehicle.

The mission is priority.

Adler, Zenya, and Woods lined up against the wall, letting Bulldozer approach the doors with a sledgehammer. They were covered on the other side with metal platings, screwed in tightly with bolts.

“Oh, before we begin,” Woods speaks. All eyes turn towards him, and he makes sure to look at each of them. “I don't care about what Hudson or Black said. If I find any of our fucking bullets inside Bell, I’ll personally hunt you down and end you.”

He receives a disapproving glare from Adler, who shakes his head to himself. He wanted to side with Woods on this one and switch priorities, but it would only cause conflict and additional worries. And he didn’t need that.

He gives Bulldozer the greenlight. “Do it.”

Bulldozer’s efforts left deep dents in the metal platings as they fell. The interior of the premises was dark, leaving only their flashlights and the neon light strips to illuminate the small area around them. A distance away, a periodic beeping repeated itself. There were no Soviets or anyone to greet them upon their entry, leaving them to push further inside.

Families of cables were thrown about like vines, slithering across the floor and crawling upward on the walls. There was no purpose in trying to sort through it, as it all ran towards the same direction.

“Watch your step,” Zenya advises.

They followed the river of wires and rounded the corner of the arcade, passing by the bright and cheerful stores that were untouched by the supposed chaos the mall harbored. With the thick tension in the air, their footsteps echoed, calling out and resonating in their own ears.

“Any movement?”

“Not yet.”

At the center of the mall should have been a large fountain running on its own cycle. Instead they were met with the sight of exposed blue and white tiles, damp with whatever little remains of water. Placed right on top of it was the centerpiece— a collection of blue barrels, rigged with explosives. Compared to the photos they’ve seen earlier, there were way more than originally presented.

"What the hell?"

Focusing the flashlights on them reveal it to be the rumored Nova Six gas. Adler's nose wrinkled at the faint smell that filled his nose. It was the same one that was present back in Rebirth Island during the raid.

"The bastard's manufacturing Nova Six again."

Before he could investigate further, an enthusiastic chime comes from the elevator a few feet away. Upon arriving, the doors pull open automatically, letting the bright lights flood out into the darkness. Adler squints at the contrast as the white illuminates the silhouette of the person inside.

Within a blink, enemies emerge seemingly out of thin air, revealing themselves behind corners and on top of the balconies. A few bright red dots appear on Adler and the team's clothing as all weapons become trained onto their figures.

"Shit…”

Adler's watches the shadow that emerges from the elevator. Stitch was almost unrecognizable from the last time he saw him, but with recent photographs and that identifying scar, there was no doubt that he was the guy that he captured from Rebirth Island.

"Adler," his nemesis greets with a deep timbre.

Adler pulls his arms upwards, redirecting his focus directly at Stitch, gripping the gun handle with the force of a god as the stock digs into his shoulder. “Where are they?!” He ignores Zenya's plea to simmer down, heart pounding against his chest as he faces uncertainty.

Everything was supposed to go smoothly. Take out the hostiles, disengage the bomb, kill or capture Stitch, then find you. Yet there was already a grave miscalculation— There were way more enemies than they estimated. He already knew the second that elevator dinged that the plan was going to be scrapped. All that meticulous planning gone to shit.

"You'll be joining your beloved soon enough once I'm done with you," Stitch replies coldly. There was no time to react as he flags down his troops with a hand signal, closing his fist into the air as all hell breaks loose.

"Fuck, get down!" Woods instructs as he lets a smoke grenade drop to their feet.

The area became hot with gunfire, bullets ricocheting all over the place. Fumes of grey clouds flowed out from the ground, encasing the team as they dived for cover nearby. His earpiece began to fill with information from the rest of the team.

"What's the next step, Adler?" Zenya demands.

What the fuck could they do? Any subtle movement they made was met with a torrent of bullets. His eyes stung as the smoke continued to pour out, trying his best to make out the outlines of the rest of the team nearby. "Jones! Notify the Bravo team to move already!"

"—ETA about ten minutes!"

"What's the hold up?"

"Police barriers are preventing them from getting in."

"Well, tell them we're fuckin’ outgunned!" He needed to make a decision. Adler presses his lips in a thin line, recalling the layout of the mall. "Team, get to the arcade! We'll just have to hold them off until Hudson and the bomb squad arrives!"

All of them attempt to forge a path to the neon faculty. Woods and Bulldozer hid behind planter islands, providing suppressing fire as more and more enemy troops seemed to flood the entire area. As one body dropped another would soon take its place, much to their frustration. The once polished floor, sparkling clean, was now riddled with holes and covered in soot.

Stitch was nowhere to be found, abruptly disappearing the moment smoke filled the area.

Woods lets out a moan as a bullet grazes his shoulder. "Ugh, damn it! They're not letting up any fucking time soon! You'll guys have to go on ahead!"

Adler gives out a huff, looking in the opposite direction. "Zenya, on me!"

She returns a confirming nod.

"...Go!"

They both jump out from their spots, heading towards the fluorescent lights.

"RPG!"

The projectile shoots their way. All four of them scatter, jumping away from their hiding spots and diving for the closest cover. Adler forges ahead despite the danger, letting his legs carry him to the arcade.

Woods groans as he lands in an uncomfortable position, but pushes himself back up and pulls inward, a bullet narrowly missing his arm. The place he was crouched at moments before was now a gaping hole.

"Well, fuck," he grumbles under his breath. There wasn't even a chance to recover, a grenade lands near him.

He jolts up from his spot, running into the closest store and diving behind the counter. The shrapnel belts against the surface around him. "Give me a fucking break…" He peeks around the corner, taking one enemy out as they attempt to reposition closer to him.

Woods takes a brief second to gaze around the store he was in. Majority of the interior was brown, various electronic items and trinkets placed on the shelves and glass display cases. A stray round punctures a hole into one of them, a couple of shards landing on him. His eyes land on a lone door, just right at the corner.

Bulldozer's inconvenienced voice rings in his ear: "Woods! Need some help over here!"

"Hold on!"

He kicks the door open with brute force, and is met with a lone soldier jumping out from behind a collection of boxes. He whips them in the face, knocking them away before putting a couple of shots into their chest. They collide with the ground, a sickening crack coming from underneath them. "Thought you could sneak up on me, huh?"

"...Frank?"

Woods snaps his head towards the owner of the voice, just right inside the inventory space. There, he was met with a stomach churning sight.

You narrowed your eyes at him, only to ease up within the next instant as you flinch at the sting that came with the contortion of facial muscles. Woods' figure was hard to distinguish, just a blob of muted color, leaving the struggle of refocusing the image to your right eye.

"Holy fuck…" He rushes to your side at breakneck speed, undoing the straps that prevented you from collapsing onto the floor. Woods holds out a aiding arm and catches you as you stumble onto your feet. "What'd he do to you?"

"It's just a flesh wound." You take a few breaths, trying to recuperate your stamina. You didn't know how long you were out, but it was the sound of bullets colliding with the walls that struck you back awake, a wave of nausea hitting you. The gunfire didn't cease on your awakening, and Woods' radio continued to buzz with a multitude of chatter. "What's going on?"

"Tell you later, I just need you to pull yourself together. Can you do that?"

You nod. Woods' voice was full of worry and concern, but given the situation, there was no time to loiter around and lie down to wait for a certified medic. There was no rest for anyone, and peace was only granted where there was no onslaught of danger. Your attention is brought to the cart of red-stained instruments, Stitch's knife placed on top. With your good hand you grasp it and slip it into your belt.

Woods kicks the gun on the floor towards your direction, gesturing at it. "Go get the rifle. We're leaving."

"I… I can't."

Woods was about to inquire the reason for your objections, only to note that your left arm was limp at your side. He sends you a sympathetic look and hands you his sidearm instead, loading it up and preparing it for you. As you readied and stabilized your balance, he quickly wraps a roll of bandages tightly around the left side of your face, and you give him a feeble smile of thanks.

"Something tells me you've done this before."

"An old friend of mine— Weaver."

As he mentions the word friend, you think back to the post it note. "Wait. Mason... How's Mason?!"

Woods hurries out the room with you trailing along behind him. Every move felt sluggish, and you were just waiting for the adrenaline kick to come in. "Mason's not here, he's back home, remember?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Enough chit chat, Bell, there's no time. Save your energy and just concentrate on keeping conscious." He introduces you to the warzone just outside the Eighteen clothing outlet, the sound of turmoil and peril ringing in your ears. "Zenya! Sitrep!"

He pauses, listening to whatever is being relayed back.

“Well get to the fucking arcade already! Adler should be there—"

Bullets cascade in your direction, and Woods pushes down on your shoulder to get you under cover and courteously takes them out in your stead. He reloads his gun, giving out a frustrated groan, and you felt a little guilty, knowing that you were going to become a hindrance. You withheld an apology, knowing that he would just condemn your words.

Once done, Woods nudges you, pointing his chin towards the Galaxy-themed walls just right across from the shop. "Both legs are still working, right?"

You bow your head as confirmation. "Adler's at that arcade?"

"We're sitting ducks until Hudson's forces join us, so we can't stay in one place for too long." Woods adjusts his posture. "On my mark."

Taking a peek over the counter, you plot out a path, already coming to a rash decision. “You got my back, right?”

"Wh—"

He didn't even get a chance to countdown or answer as you break into a sprint with a small burst of energy that arose. Pain shot up your leg as your foot first made hard contact with the floor, but it quickly ceased to a burn as you focused on one thing, and one thing only.

"Bell, wait!"

--------

Adler manages his way to the arcade as a couple of soldiers try to prevent his efforts. Inside, he fights off the both of them, sending an array of rounds into their chest. Another tries to sneak up behind him, but he whips around and delivers a jab to their throat, managing to wrangle the rifle away from their hands and ending them with one to the head.

"Bell, wait!" Woods' voice screeched through the earpiece.

"Bell?" Adler repeats. A wave of relief washed over him momentarily, lowering his stance. He reaches up to his ear, about to confirm if he heard correctly, but wasn't given the opportunity to as Stitch sneaks up behind him and puts him into a choke hold.

His feet left the ground for a split second as Stitch tugged at him, arm tensing up and pulling tighter. Adler could feel his breath leaving him as he clawed at the arm around his neck, trying to pry it away. The rest of the squad were elsewhere, taking cover from gunfire while also taking out the enemy.

Spots danced in Adler's vision as his strength started to fade away. His throat was on the verge of being crushed, face changing into a bluish hue.

Right when he was about to give out, he heard the sound of a bullet ripping through flesh, and for a moment Adler thought he was the one that got shot. However, Stitch seemed to grimace at something, giving out a pained and irritated growl as the hold loosened.

Stitch's eyes narrowed towards the direction of the attack. A distance away, just right underneath the open entrance of the game room, a figure stood. Lighting was scarce, but he could make out your form from neon lights as you leaned against the wall with a pistol in hand aimed at them.

"You-"

Stitch wasn't given the opportunity to finish his sentence. Out of bullets, you dropped the gun and charged towards the both of them, tackling him off of Adler. The guy was a unit, but you managed to use your weight to pull it off. Adler collapsed, coughing violently and massaging his neck as you brought Stitch to the floor. He struggled to call out to you as you gave out a warcry.

"Someone just doesn't know how to listen, do they?"

Bringing out the Stitch's knife from your belt, you plunged it downward over his chest, but he holds out a hand, allowing the blade to pierce through it instead. He lets out a pained growl, but uses his other hand to grab a hold of your arm and push against you. Your expression was scrunched up in agony and animosity as your cut hands gripped the handle, opening them even further.

"I ought to put you down like the damn dog you are," Stitch beseeches.

"If I were to die, it wouldn't be through the likes of you."

The tip pierced through his vest. Just a bit more, you told yourself, putting every effort into it. You could see the cloth peeling away as the metal pierced the area. His grip on you was insanely tight as he tried to fight against you, you couldn't feel both your arms anymore. Left arm useless, you used it as a weight to further press against the hilt. Blood rushed to your head, and your ears were ringing. You only focused on the only objective in front of you— Kill Vikhor Kuzmin.

A surge of strength arises with him, and you could feel him regaining some stamina over you. You were already weakened and struggling to keep awake, adrenaline the only thing letting you move freely. Passing out wasn't an option, so you had to do something.

Even so, it wasn’t enough.

Stitch began to fight back, overwhelming you with strength you couldn't muster. He turns your hand towards yourself, the blade pointing at your front. Yet you glared daggers, refusing to back down. You tighten your jaw in the effort to resist, ignoring the burning sensation in the entire upper left side of your body. It was as if someone had laid a fresh bed of lava underneath.

"Bell!" Adler yells. He reaches out to a fallen rifle close by, aiming right down the iron sights and pulling the trigger.

He was met with the sound of continuous clicking as nothing came out from the end. There wasn't even time to think or breathe. Adler throws it to the side in frustration and pushes himself up, only for his vision to become tilted. His ear was ringing thanks to a busted eardrum from the RPG from earlier, and he struggled to maintain proper balance.

"Hudson's crew just arrived! The heli is right outside!" Bulldozer announces in his ear.

“Agh!”

Adler raises his head, only to see Stitch had sunk the knife into your stomach.

"You ought to choose your words carefully," Stitch leers, towering over your body.

"Bell!"

His voice cracked, and something inside Adler snaps. He zooms forward, giving it his all as he plows through, knocking Stitch off of you. The wind gets knocked out of him as they both fall onto the floor. A fist collides with Stitch’s mask, Adler following up with his knee full force into the stomach. He grasps at the ends of the black hoodie, pulling it towards him as he delivers a brutal headbutt.

Basic close combat training Adler learned through the years was thrown out the window. Rules couldn’t hold him back in this encounter, the only way to win would be to fight dirty. It was a boxing match without a referee. And considering what Stitch had just done, there was no point in following basic etiquette.

You could hear Adler’s cries of distress and efforts with each blow he received. Stitch somehow gets the upper hand, delivering a good jab, throwing him into a daze. Your consciousness was slipping away, pain surging from every part of your body if you even dared to move. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes, knowing that you couldn’t do anything.

Their blurred figures fought mere feet away from you, and you could only play the dying casualty as Adler began to get pummeled, Stitch’s driving bringing his knee to his stomach and causing him to double over and gag. A well-timed hook connects to the right side of his jaw, sending him downward.

Adler!

You cursed yourself, balling your hands into fists. Digging your nails into the carpet, you try to roll onto your side in an effort to crawl, only to be met with excruciating pain. You gave out a whine at the sensation.

Why am I so damn weak?!

Darkness swarmed your vision. Adler was on the ground now, rendered useless. His pathetic attempts to get an advantage, whether it be through grabbing of the clothes or wrists, was easily thwarted as Stitch straddled on top of him and beat the living daylights out of him.

Both of you were going to die here, in some random New Jersey mall, both to the hands of a man you once worked alongside with. His vendetta against the both consisted of nothing but vengeance, and he was about to succeed.

You couldn't do shit. Drugged up, left eye slashed and your left arm broken, this was the worst state to be in. And now had an internal bleeding thanks to the metal serrated ends clawing into your insides. You blink slowly, about to let darkness take the remains of your sight. It was useless. Every effort was spent preventing Stitch from further harming Adler, but even then you couldn't prevail.

This is it.

Giving up wasn't easy, and you thought there would never be a day where you actually threw in the towel. Yet, with everything you have just experienced, and what was happening now, you were definitely dealt the short end of the stick. Perseus was going to win, and one of the biggest thorns that continued to prod at them was about to be wiped off the grid. The Nova Six gas was going to be released to the general public.

No.

Not yet.

You still had something to do. Just one thing left.

If someone were to make it out alive from this mess, it had to be Adler.

After all, you had a job to do.

Brows knit and vision filled with red, you grasped the handle of the knife protruding from your stomach. You grinded your molars together, taking a sharp intake of breath as you proceeded to pull it out.

Pain erupted without hesitation, and it took everything within your mental capacity to keep awake. It was a horrid feeling, and you whimpered with every miniscule movement. You could feel the metal lifting out, and blood began to splurt, staining your shirt. It hurt. Everything did. Death seemed like a great option.

Your mind was warning you, demanding you to stop. You wanted to, but you refused to yield.

If you were going to die, then so be it. You'll even take Death's damn hand if it means that Stitch would be coming along with you.

You held back a cry as the knife came free. It glistened underneath the neon lights of the arcade, stained with your own fresh blood. You took short, little breaths in an attempt to lessen the pain, only to no avail.

With a trembling hand, you flip the blade around, holding it from the tip. It was warm. You couldn't even see your own skin underneath the mass of blood that caked your fingers. Just how much did you lose for the sake of this man?

Not that it mattered. If Adler trusted his life to you, then you'll do whatever it takes to make sure he lived to see another day.

Pulling your arm back, your fingertips pressed against the metal as you readied yourself.

Mustering all remaining strength, you swing full force, chucking the weapon towards the duo's direction.

It cut through the air without a second thought, going into a nice arch.

You could see Stitch look up during the final moments as the knife struck him, embedding itself right in the middle of his forehead.

He didn't make a noise as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the Russian fall onto his back, not even groaning as he collapsed.

It's over.

You let out a difficult exhale after holding your breath for so long, and set your head back down, staring up at the ceiling. Your arms fall to the side, eagle spread.

The lights of the arcade machines flickered and bounced around without a care in the world. Beeping and 16-bit noises played along in an attempt to veil the sounds of warfare just outside the doorway. There was a soothing vaporwave-like rhythm, luring you into a sense of numbness and peace.

The purplish blue was a nice shade, and it made you drowsy. A wave of tranquility washed over you as you watched the light show, and with each blink you took, your eyelids felt heavier and heavier. Sleep was calling out to you.

How many near-death experiences did you have? Trabzon Airport, Cuba, Solovetsky, the cliffside… The list went on.

Adler heaved violently nearby, using the back of his hand to wipe away the crimson that ran down his nose. The effort was useless, as more of it continued to streak downward over his lips and chin. It had taken a moment for him to register that Stitch ceased all movement, lying uselessly with arms splayed out. Horror-struck, his expression held itself frozen as his own knife stuck out from his forehead.

Bell.

Adler’s arms shook as he held himself up into a crawling position. He saw you lying there with a pool of red that was about to expand underneath you. He pushes himself to you with his elbows, holding out a hand to you. “[L/N]!” his voice quivers.

He was calling you.

Turning your head, you see Adler struggle to make his way over to you. You manage a shaky smile as he enters your view.

“Is that you, Russ?” you gurgle weakly, squinting trying to focus. The metallic taste in your mouth only seemed to strengthen, lathering your taste buds.

“Don’t talk!” His eyes darted from place to place trying to figure out where he should prioritize first aid, but his thoughts were racing and he couldn't concentrate, head rolling from the thorough beating Stitch had given him. "Shit, I–"

“Ah, it is." You gave him a soft smile. Albeit your altered vision, Adler's face managed to detail itself. The hat he had on previously lied on the floor a couple paces away, his hair instead ruffled and a mess. "I couldn’t recognize you. Stitch really did a number on you… And me."

The mere sight of you made Adler's stomach drop. A mix of black and red resided where your left eye should have been, covered with soiled bandages that felt like it didn't do much to help. You had several bruises as well, cuts decorating your skin. Old scars that you had were now covered with new wounds. Your shirt had dark stains on it as it clung to your body.

Adler's hands went towards your stomach, applying pressure and you winced underneath him. “You’re going to be okay Bell."

You try to laugh at his attempt to comfort you, only to choke up some blood. "C'mon, be truthful. How do I look?"

He couldn't respond, and with one hand he reached behind, shoving his hands forcibly underneath the covers of his satchel, trying to look for any medical supplies.

"I told Vikhor that… if he even touched you.. I'd kill him." Your eyes lingered on his. "C'mon don't make that face. Aren't you proud of me?"

He looked pitiful. Adler was biting the insides of his cheeks, just trying to keep himself together amongst this hell hole he was thrown into. But he couldn't hide it. He wasn't fucking proud— he was broken. Whether it was the mere image of your mutilated body, or the thought that you practically sacrificed yourself for him, he knew that he was the reason you did the shit you just did.

Adler didn't ask you to do it. So why, why, why, did you commit to such a selfless act? That valor he admired now became the reason for your recklessness and gave you reason to act so blindly. Why were you so fucking loyal? A month without your presence nearby and the first thing he sees upon contact was you bleeding out in front of him. It was like God, or whatever higher being up there, was testing his integrity of how much shit he can take before breaking.

The instant he felt his fingers rub against something inside his pack, he pulled the object out.

A flare.

No. No. Nonono—

Where was his medkit?

You placed a hand on his cheek, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of his eye. The gesture stings as he feels your finger brush against his puffed and bruised skin. He sees you shake your head slightly at the effort of his search for treatment, and his own heart just drops.

Stop.

Don't look at me like that. Why are you shaking your head?

"You need to leave me."

Don't say that! he yells internally. Adler feels his chest constrict at the thought he conjured up.

He gives out a shaky breath as he places his own hand over yours, ignoring the blood smearing against his scar. "Bell, I'm not going to leave you," he says slowly, trying to control his emotions. "We're getting out together."

"'Crying doesn't suit you',” you reiterate to him, but at that point you couldn't even interpret his own face out. Your eyes were half lidded, beginning to lose its shine as they trailed away from his face to focus on something above him. Terrified, Adler cups your cheek and makes you look back at him.

"Stay with me, [L/N]."

"I think… I need a rain check on that date of ours."

This wasn't happening.

Fuck, fuck!

“Of course. I'll take you wherever you want. Just… Just stay awake until we get to the hospital?” Adler clammers, clutching your hand tighter. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah. I'll try."

"You can sleep when we get th—"

"Mhm..."

No.

"Bell?"

Your eyes were closed, and despite everything you must have gone through, you gave off a serene expression, the corners of your mouth upturned slightly.

Adler feels your hand become heavy, losing its strength. He wasn't ready for this.

"Bell?" his voice cracks. "No, you can't— You can't fucking die on me Bell!"

He expected you to flinch at his tone, like you used to, but didn't budge. His heart dropped, desperation clawing at him. If there was one thing he feared the most, it was this.

What the fuck am I doing?

"Come on, c'mon…"

Adler swears profusely as he unbuckles his equipment in a rush, letting the orange scarf around his neck free. He rips it off and bundles it, pressing the mass against your stomach. You didn't even grimace. The bright orange turned dark as it absorbed whatever substance it could.

"Ossou!" Adler screams into his earpiece. "Where's the fucking medic?!"

They had to get you out. Away from the mall, into the hospital. They'll treat you there. You can get a blood transfusion. Fucking take his own blood if they had to— just ANYTHING to keep you alive.

There was still time...

Right?

#wow bell you really pulled a soap huh #i would have written the knife going to stitch's eye but then there's too much eye shit as is so that was just pushing it #call of duty x reader #russell adler x reader #adler x reader #russell adler x bell #bo:cw #cod black ops cold war #black ops cold war #call of duty #fanfic #bell #russell adler #abcd briefing #anyways this chapter took so fucking long to finish cause uhh yeah so much crap happened #text

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avengersassemble-fics · 3 years

Text

Stark’s Girl

part 014/015 “one more time, captain”

previous part // next part

masterlist

word count 3.9k

an: this part does include dialogue from avengers endgame, which is not my work nor do i claim it to be!

It’s been five years since the Blip. You had been back by Natasha’s side for almost six months now, and she was grateful for every moment. There were days where she would break down (which until recently was unheard of) and you would be there by her side. And she had done what she could to help you out with your trauma. Before you accepted her offer of coming back, she had put two and two together when she recognized the faces on the news to the faces that had adorned a spare room in that house of yours in Ransdorp. Natasha had a past of her own, no doubt about that, so she could relate to how you had felt when you admitted on your own time what you had been up to those few years after Siberia.

It wasn’t an easy conversation, at one point you had broken down into sobs and reminded her a lot of herself when she had taken some time after a mission gone wrong years back. She mostly understood the shame that coursed through you, but one thing she made you understand was what HYDRA had done, the things you did because of them, wasn’t your fault. Natasha also made sure to tell you the blackouts weren’t your fault either, and she understood why you did what you had done. Although it was trauma you would have to live with, she knew the feeling better than most of losing your years to programs like that.

All of this was to say that both women had a newfound respect and understanding of one another. It became easier to work alongside one another, being able to almost anticipate one’s actions and decisions as they occurred. No one had seemed to really get Nat like that since Barton.. Which was why she was so hell bent on tracking him down.

Natasha had come to the realization about a year ago that Barton had gone off the radar because his family was among those they lost. When bodies started piling up (not due to your hands) and some of the known details were faint signatures of Barton’s handiwork.. Nat made it her mission to find him. Because this was not him. And although he was taking down some questionable people, they weren’t responsible for Thanos.

“Listen fur-face,” Carol Danvers threw out that regained Nat’s attention. “I’m covering a lot of territory. The things that are happening on Earth are happening everywhere, on thousands of planets.”

“All right all right, that’s a good point,” Rocket remarked. Nat stole a glance your way to which you only offered a shrug as Carol continued.

“So.. You might not see me for a long time,” she redirected towards Nat. Natasha nodded her head and leaned forward on the desk she sat behind.

“Alright.. Well this channel is always active. If anything goes sideways, anyone’s making trouble where they shouldn’t, it comes through me.”

Everyone agreed and one by one the holograms disappeared. You took a seat in front of the desk, and Nat redirected her attention to Rhodes. “Where are you?

“Mexico,” Rhodes answered. “The Federales found a room full of bodies, looks like a bunch of cartel guys. They never even had a chance to get their guns off.”

Nat shrugged her shoulders and sat back in her seat. “Probably a rival gang.”

“Except it isn’t,” Rhodes countered. Natasha’s eyes shift, and your gaze shoots up at her. “It’s definitely Barton.. What he’s done here, what he’s been doing the last few years.. Nat, the scene he left?.. I gotta tell you, a part of me doesn’t want to find him.”

Natasha grabbed the sand which she had prepared just earlier and bit a piece off. She just needed to focus on something other than what Rhodes was telling her, she didn’t need anyone to see her cry right now. “Will you find out where he’s going next?”

“Nat,” Rhodes tried to warn.

“Please,” Natasha pleaded. You glanced Rhodey’s way and he met your eyes. You offered a grim look, and he sighed.

“Okay.”

And with that Rhodey’s comm broke off too. You watched as Nat placed the sandwich back down and sighed deeply, all before her face began to scrunch up into a sob. You were quick out of your seat and moved around the desk and kneeled by her side. “Nat.. Nat we’re gonna find him.”

“I just don’t know why he couldn’t come to me,” she sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. “I know this must be hard for him, losing Laura and the kids, but he could’ve come to me.”

You reached your hand out to rub her shoulder and let out a small sigh. “Sometimes it’s hard to let those you care about see in you in those dark places.”

Nat finished rubbing under her eyes and grabbed the sandwich off her plate again with her other hand. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding the talk with Steve?”

You bit back the smile and stood. She had done what she did best, diverted the conversation from herself to something else. “You’re still on about that?”

“Oh come on, I’ve seen the way you look at one another,” Natasha prodded as you went to gather your things. “How much longer are you going to wait to be happy?”

The question made you pause, and before you could respond Nat perked up at something behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and was met with none other than Steve Rogers, hands in his pockets, and with a small smile on his face.

“Speak of the devil,” Natasha joked. Your gaze immediately went back to her and you gave her your best glare, while Steve raised his brow at her. They were so easy to mess with, she thought. “Here to do your laundry?”

“And to see some friends,” Steve replied. You held your things closer to your chest as Steve came further into the room.

“I’m actually getting ready to leave for Tony’s,” you threw out there. “I promised to go see my favorite niece.”

“Are you going to be okay making the drive this late at night?” Steve asked. Natasha rolled her eyes to herself and took a hefty bite of her sandwich. If she had to watch another pining episode she was going to make sure you two never heard the end of it. You, on the other hand, smiled at his sentiment.

“Oh I think I can manage,” you told him. You offered your farewells, and started back to your room to grab your bag and head out. Steve watched you leave before looking back at Nat who was waving him off.

“Meet me in the kitchen, I need a drink,” she told him, and took her sandwich with her towards the kitchen area. Steve chuckled lightly, and followed in your steps to the residence area. He was just catching you outside your room, and he took a deep breath and pulled something out of his pocket, clutching it in his fist. You heard him approach and looked his way, shutting your door and offering a smile.

“Hey,” you managed before Steve got up to you, and his serious expression made your smile fall. “Are you okay..?”

“Seven years ago I asked you if one day you’d want to get away from all of this,” Steve started. You remembered the conversation far too well, and immediately shut your mouth in a tight expression. A heaviness filled your chest, but you tried your best to ignore it. “From this life where we were needing to be more than just us… Do you remember?”

“Yes-”

“I told you that I would wait for you, no matter how long it took, no matter what happened, because.. Because you have been the best thing to happen to me since I came out of the ice. You taught me how to live again,” Steve continued.

“Steve,” you whispered, but he kept going.

“I love you,” he admitted, finally looking into your eyes. They were darker than usual, and you could see he meant it. “I couldn’t go another day without telling you. Because.. You feel like home.”

Steve grabbed a hold of your hands, and you watched as he placed something into your palms. He retracted his hold on you and your fingers curled over the soft velvety box in your hand. You looked up at him with curious eyes, and slowly used your thumb to open the box and let out a small gasp.

“Steve,” you whispered, staring down at the contents.

“It was my moms.. SHIELD saved it when I went into the ice,” Steve explained. You carefully ran your finger over the gold banded ring that practically shined up at you. You hadn’t seen a more beautiful piece of jewelry, and did your best to fight back the tears. “I’m not expecting an answer.. But I just wanted you to see that I meant it. It was always meant for you anyway.. Maybe we still have a shot at that normal life.”

Your gaze went back up to his, and he smiled softly at you. You were speechless as one of his hands grabbed onto your arm and he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. And then you watched him take a couple steps back, before he turned around and went back the direction you both had just come.

You were shocked, which even then felt like an understatement. Steve just.. Proposed. Inadvertently? Well it was purposeful, and if Natasha knew about it you were going to kill her for not saying anything. It took you a while to reclose the box and carefully place it into a pocket in your bag, it was delicate and you wanted to take care of it.

And well.. It certainly kept your mind occupied on your drive to Tony’s cabin.

Tony had left your room untouched for the most part, which was a welcomed thing to come into. You weren’t up for too long, forcing Tony to go to bed, but you did spend some time scrolling through your phone. Steve was right when he had said he wasn’t expecting an answer right away, you half expected a message of some sort but things seemed relatively quiet from his end. It was harder to fall asleep that night, you found yourself drifting off to what would happen if you said yes.

You’d want to move somewhere quiet, like what Tony did. That would give you a chance to refocus yourself.. Would that even be something Steve would be open to doing?.. Could he get you the same help he had gotten Barnes (Natasha said he felt at peace for once)? Hell, if they could just wipe out any lingering thoughts of Hydra you’d never have another problem in your life.

What’s more.. If you said no would this be what you life is like? Alone, and longing for the maybe’s that could have been? Which was better? Risk getting involved again, or risk never having that connection to someone again? It wasn’t the ideal question to fall asleep to.

When morning broke and sunlight peeked through the blinds, you woke up and found yourself sitting among the sheets and staring at the open box in your hands. The diamond that sat in the middle and gleamed in the sunlight made you sigh, it felt as if it was screaming at you that you knew what you wanted to tell him.

Did you?

You snapped the box closed and hid it in a drawer beside the bed and decided to change into something other than sweatpants for the day. After finishing and bounding down the stairs you ended up behind your favorite little niece, and scooped her up into a bear hug from behind. “There’s my little sleeping beauty!”

“She couldn’t wait to see her favorite aunt today,” Pepper remarked from the kitchen amongst the giggles that erupted from her daughter. You peppered kisses on Morgan’s head, and Pepper turned around as she was drying what you assumed was breakfast dishes. “Tony barely had to tuck her in before she was out.”

You set Morgan back down on the ground and she went back to messing with a toy on the breakfast table. You ruffled her hair and went to grab a cup of coffee before resting your hip against the counter besides Pepper. “How has he been?”

“A little stir crazy,” Pepper admitted to which you nodded lightly and sipped at your warm mug. “He put up this picture of the kid and I catch him getting lost looking at it.”

“And how have you been?” You asked. Pepper glanced your way and smiled.

“Hoping one day he’ll finally rest his mind.”

Eventually, you brought Morgan outside who immediately ran towards her tent and disappeared inside. You went towards the shed with an open door, and leaned against the frame, taking in the sight of Tony wielding what you could make out was a helmet. “Work never stops for you, does it?”

Tony glanced over his shoulder and waved you in, which you accepted. You came up behind him and gripped his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “You’re supposed to be retired, old man.”

“It’s just a little project,” Tony tried to assure you. You couldn’t help but scoff, and pointed your thumb to a corner of the room.

“Says the one who built me a new suit last year,” you teased. Tony used one hand to back hand your side playfully and you laughed. You stood beside him now, and grabbed a picture frame sitting on the shelf over where he worked. It was a picture of the two of you when you were younger, barely big enough to fit the frame, and slightly discolored. You ran your hand over the front before putting the frame back and rubbing your hands together. “Can I talk to you about something..?”

“Anything, kid,” Tony said, overly engrossed in the task in front of him. You took a deep breath and shrugged your shoulders, not that he could even see you.

“When did you know that.. Well that you didn’t want to wait anymore? To start a family?”

Tony immediately stopped what he was working on, taking off a pair of clear protective glasses and setting his tool down. When he turned to face you and rest his elbow on the table, he tilted his head and scrunched his brows. “Excuse me?”

“Come on Tony, I’m being serious,” you told him.

“Yeah well so am I!” Tony exclaimed and stood. You watched as he stood from his stool and started to pace back and forth. You crossed your arms and huffed. He was acting like such a child! As if he could read your thoughts he stopped and pointed a finger at you. “It’s Steve isn’t it? Is he pressuring you or something?”

“What? No! Why would you even think that-”

“Because he’s hard headed and doesn’t know when to stop,” Tony said, cutting you off. You shook your head and scoffed.

“Tony please, this isn’t about you two-”

“I told him if he messes with your feelings again.. I swear when I get a hold of him,” Tony started pacing again and you rolled your eyes and started towards him. “He has some nerve-”

“Tony,” you stopped him dead in his tracks and made him face you, finally getting a hold of his gaze. “He didn’t do anything to me, okay? If anything.. He’s been trying to make up to me what happened.”

Tony sighed and his expression softened, but you shrugged. “I know he lied to us about knowing what happened to mom and dad… But you always told me that I wasn’t what Hydra made me, that what I did wasn’t me but them… Tony, why is Barnes so different?”

“Steve lied to us,” Tony said in a low tone. “He lied to protect his friend but what about us, huh? We weren’t his friends? We didn’t deserve to know the truth?”

“He handled it wrong Tony, I know. I’m just saying does that outweigh all the good he did for us,” you offered. Tony sighed and looked away for a moment as if annoyed. You grabbed a hold of his hand and it forced him to look back at you. “He’s trying.. And you told me that sometimes just trying was a good start.”

Tony sighed and raised a brow at you. “I hate it when you throw things back in my face like that.”

You chuckled and Tony used his free hand to cover the hand holding his. “Look I’m still iffy on the idea but.. If Rogers is who you want to be with then who am I to stop it? I’m a family man now anyway, I have bigger fish to fry.”

And with that his phone buzzed in his pocket, and while he fished it out you laughed little. “She’s turning out too much like you.”

“Scares me to death everyday,” Tony replied while checking the message from Pepper. “Time to feed the munchkin anyway, we can continue this talk later when I’ve had a couple drinks.”

Tony and you walked side by side to Morgan’s play tent, and after finally getting her out. Tony whisked her up when you felt your phone buzz, and you pulled it out to see a notification from Natasha. It was weird, she normally didn’t bother you when you were with Tony, she always said to focus on family time. You fell back a few steps and read her message.

Nat: Heads up, you got incoming.

“Incoming?” You muttered to yourself as you came up the steps behind Tony. You nearly knocked into him. You followed his gaze to the car coming to a stop in front of his cabin, and watched Steve, Natasha, and someone else get out. Steve’s expression was serious, hell all of theirs were and Tony didn’t look amused. Natasha offered a nod to Tony and he turned to you, and you took Morgan from him with a smile. “Let’s go see mom, hm?”

You quietly walked inside and set Morgan at the table and met Pepper’s look before she returned to watching out the window. You ruffled Morgan’s hair and returned back outside, the screen door thumping closed behind you. The three visitors started up the stairs as you rejoined Tony’s side.

“Sorry for dropping in unannounced,” Steve offered. Tony glanced your way with a look. You could only shrug. What? You didn’t know they were coming. But if they did then.. Something was up.

“We have something though that we think might work.. To get everyone back,” Natasha said. Your breath hitched, and when you looked over at Tony there was a hint of something in his eyes. The third person stepped forward and nodded at the both of you.

“Have you two heard of the Quantum Realm?”

It was.. A long explanation. Everyone was gathered in a circle at this point, and in all honesty you had a hard time following along. There were stolen glances between you and Steve, and each time a feeling grew in the pit of your stomach. But you forced yourself to pay attention because this was big.. Could it work though?

“Now, we know what this sounds like,” Scott had finished up before Steve cut in.

“Tony, after everything you’ve seen, is anything really impossible?” He asked. Tony was looking out to the lake near his home but when addressed he looked back at the group and gripped onto the railing.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” Tony asked. You glanced at everyone else and cleared your throat.

“Maybe for those of us not fluent in quantum mechanics, Tony?” You asked. Tony sighed and tapped his fingers on the wood.

“In layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home,” was all he offered.

“But I did,” Scott offered. Tony shook his head at that.

“No, you accidentally survived,” Tony corrected. “It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a... What do you call it?”

Scott cleared his throat. “A time heist..?”

Tony scoffed in a joking manner and rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, a time heist. Of course, why didn't we think of this before?”

“The Stones are in the past. We can go back and get them,” Scott tried to reason.

“We can snap our own fingers. We can bring everyone back,” Natasha chimed in.

“Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?” Tony asked. Steve shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t believe we would,” Steve said.

“Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism,” Tony said in a sarcastic tone. Everyone went back and forth for a while. Tony shot down every claim, and the rest tried to tell him there’s always a chance. The back and forth didn’t stop until the screen door was pushed open and Morgan came up to Tony’s side.

“Mommy told me to come and save you,” she said. You couldn’t help but smile and cross your arms. Tony picked her up and pat her back.

“Good job, I’m saved,” he reassured her. He refocused on the group and offered a shrug. “I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I... I missed you guys, it was... Oh, and table's set for seven.”

.”Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance,” Steve tried again, but Tony shook his head.

“I got my second chance right here,” Tony told him. You could see Steve accept his denial and then met Tony’s gaze. “I can’t roll the dice again.”

Tony excused himself and the porch fell silent. You watched him disappear into the house and looked back at the group in front of you. No one knew what to say, but Natasha was the first to speak. “Sorry for interrupting your weekend.”

“Well when you have a hell of a plan like that I don’t expect you to wait normal business hours,” you replied. Natasha sadly smiled and you sighed. “Tony has everything he’s ever wanted.. I don’t know if I can sweet talk him into helping.”

“We know,” Steve offered and gave a sad smile. “We just wanna do it right.”

“Tony may not be on board but.. If there’s a chance? I’m in,” you offered. Nat reached out and pat your shoulder and as if knowingly, she turned around and pulled Scott with her. You took a couple steps towards Steve and he straightened up a bit. “Nice to see you back, Cap.”

“One last mission,” Steve whispered. You smiled and looked behind him at the car he had come in and Natasha smirked at you. You met Steve’s gaze again and slowly lifted her young to rest on his cheek. On your tiptoes and with the sun basking in the sky, you leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Steve had leaned into your touch, his lips pressing against yours as if it would be the last. After a couple seconds you pulled away and you both lingered close.

“Go save the world one more time, Captain.”

- - - - - - - - - -

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lovelyirony · 3 years

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hi hello i am feeling very angsty so: rhodeytony ft tony's worrying lack of interest in avoiding getting kidnapped and his bodyguard rhodes' increasing stress levels to save a boss that doesn't want to be saved (and, if the flutter in his heart should be anything to go by - should not be his boss anymore). bodyguard to lovers??

Rhodey is a good bodyguard. Hell, he’s the best.

That was why Pepper Potts hired him, after all. He’s not easy to fool, can follow anyone with a dogged determination that nearly defies human nature. He’s had successful stories before with glowing reviews from multiple people from all different threatened backgrounds.

(Including at least three world leaders and a pope.)

Tony Stark is...new. Well, nearly new. He’s a businessman, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary for Rhodey to deal with.

…except Tony’s highly eclectic, a billionaire, and purposely makes his behavior as erratic as possible.

It’s fun. What can Rhodey say? He loves a challenge, and Tony is about as challenging as they come.

When he first starts, Tony tries every trick in the book. Rhodey still sticks to him, although he does leave some distance. Tony tries to make him uncomfortable by bringing just about everyone who looks home, and all Rhodey says is, “you gonna feed them cereal when they wake up? Because that’s all you have in your pantry right now, and you don’t pay me to do the shopping.”

Tony scowls at that, and then changes his strategy.

It’s an odd strategy.

Tony decides he will just make Rhodey his friend, starting with the nickname of “Rhodey.”

“That’s stupid,” Rhodey says, because he can already tell it will stick.

“Not my problem, just my solution,” Tony grins. “Now come on, we’re getting burgers.”

They’re at a sit-down restaurant. One of Tony’s favorites, actually. Rhodey is not sure why he’s sitting down across from the man with the most influence in the world, but he is.

“So, what’s new with you? Who are you?” Tony asks. “Pepper sent me your file. You’re from Philly, right?”

“Oh my god, you sound weird when you say it like that,” Rhodey says, deciding against formality as he basically tells Tony Stark that he sounds weird and shouldn’t say “Philly.”

“Oh what, is that not what the locals call it?”

“I’m going to take you there and they’re going to beat you up.”

“Not the worst Sunday night I’ve ever had,” Tony mentions. “Hey, look at the menu. I don’t want you to flounder when the waitress shows up and you know fuck-all about what they have to offer.”

“Okay asshole, any recommendations?”

“The banana milkshake and bacon-burger.”

Rhodey looks at the menu.

He does end up with the bacon-burger, but chooses strawberry for his flavor of milkshake.

“You traitor.”

“Oh am I? Well then let me tell Pepper that you stole the last good pen she had then-”

Tony flings a fry at him, and Rhodey laughs.

Here’s a concerning thing: Tony has a very “c’est la vie” approach about kidnapping.

Like he genuinely doesn’t really give a shit if he knows what’s going on, or even if he doesn’t.

Rhodey was eagle-eyed and chased a van three fucking blocks and caught up to the driver, wherein he punched his lights out and got Tony out. His hands were bound in zip-ties and his suit was rumpled, but Tony just blinked at him.

“You think you broke a racing record with that?”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they take anything?”

Rhodey’s all over Tony, checking for any injuries, any stolen wallets or watches, and thank god everything is there. (Not that Tony would really care if anything was stolen, save for his sunglasses. He spends far too much on those, in Rhodey’s opinion.)

“Okay geez,” Tony says, batting Rhodey’s hands away. “I’m fine. These people were amateurs. Shit, I’m running late for my consultation meeting, aren’t I?”

“You just got kidnapped,” Rhodey says, tone rife with disbelief. “You just got taken and your concern is with the consultation meeting?”

“Well I figured that you were going to come by or I’d be gone a lot longer, but now that I’m not? Yeah. Yeah, I am concerned with the consultation meeting. It’s a tech start-up company, only not that shitty Silicon-nice-guy start-up. It’s a more inclusive thing. I don’t know, I read their little ‘about’ section on their website. Which needs work. But that’s besides the point.”

Rhodey just follows, dumb in disbelief.

The few rare times that previous clients have been kidnapped or even attempted, they’ve needed a day to recuperate at minimum. They were shaken up, and usually beefed up the security for the rest of time after it. They also scheduled therapy appointments.

Tony treated this like it was a traffic jam and he was only running five minutes behind.

The second time it happens when Rhodey’s there, it lasts a little longer.

Rhodey has to admit, he maybe did some...under-the-radar looks. The FBI wasn’t moving fast enough, and the legal channels weren’t up to snuff. And besides, Tony did say that he could use Jarvis if he really wanted to.

(Turns out they both went to MIT at the same time, and Tony had been that obnoxiously short guy in his econ class that rarely showed up, but when he did he showed up in a suspiciously nice outfit.)

It was a weekend. Rhodey had gone away for two seconds to get a drink for Tony and then he was gone.

It was...bad.

The problem is this:

Tony definitely doesn’t need to be kidnapped as often as he is. He has so many inventions that can prevent that, he’s sold quite a few of them to the military.

But for some fucking reason, he doesn’t want to be saved. No, he’s content just going along with what’s happening, even though everyone else around him wants him back. Needs him back.

He finds him bruised and tied up to a shitty folding chair.

“Hey darling,” Tony says, lips a bloody red. “Can you believe this chair? I would’ve thought they would at least have gotten something a tad nicer. I am their best-dressed guest, after all.”

Rhodey looks over the torn shirt and the pants that have all but been shredded. His shoes are battered and stained beyond repair.

“Don’t,” Rhodey says. He sounds tired. He is tired. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what, get kidnapped? I hardly try,” Tony snaps. “Or do I just have a sign on my back that you didn’t know was there?”

“You know I was in the Air Force,” Rhodey snaps back. “I got high enough clearance that I was one of the guys who got to see what brand new toy you sent our way. I know you could use any of those, shit, you probably tested it out, so you would know.”

“And your point?” Tony asks. “What, you’re saying I should know better? Saying you know better than me?”

“You know what? Yeah, yeah I am saying that,” Rhodey yells as he’s untying him. “I am fucking saying that I know more than you because you couldn’t give less of a shit if you tried about your own well-being! You were kidnapped and I’ve been running myself ragged trying to get you back, and you just don’t care!”

Tony stares at him. Really stares at him.

“Let’s go home.”

Nothing else is said in the car ride home. Tony can’t even look at Rhodey.

They go home, where Pepper greets Tony with a hug and makes him swear not to leave again, and Tony says “I promise,” only they both know that he’s lying.

But they’re not calling him out on it yet. No, not tonight.

Rhodey stays. Technically he doesn’t have to. Jarvis is the most advanced artificial intelligence system in the world. Hell, he’s the only one that’s even in his league, but Rhodey just...feels better staying.

And Tony’s mansion is a gargantuan structure with about twenty different rooms to choose from, so Rhodey gets a nice view and tries to go to bed.

He’s never gotten enough sleep. He knows he never would. That’s why the army loved him: he could be up at any hour and he’d be fine. That’s why his dad called him the bane of his existence in a loving manner: Rhodey would be up at four in the morning filling out the crossword before anyone else could.

He’s up at four a.m. making breakfast.

Tony’s pantry is still shit, but it looks like Pepper went shopping for him or had someone else do it, because he actually has eggs and juice and actual food instead of the odd pickle jar or way-too-old yogurt.

“You’re...up,” Tony says.

Rhodey turns around.

“Sorry. I, um. Stayed.”

“It’s fine,” Tony says awkwardly. “What are you making?”

“Omelet.”

“I always mess those up,” he says. “Either too much cheese or I forget I’m cooking it.”

“You want one?”

“You gonna make me one?”

“Accidentally cracked one too many eggs, so yes. You want onions and spinach in yours?”

“Sure,” Tony says. “What are you doing up?”

“Always bad at sleeping,” Rhodey answers. “Can never really stay asleep for too long.”

“Forget to take your melatonin gummies?” Tony answers, grinning.

Rhodey can see a bruise on his collarbone.

“You sleep okay?”

“No, but I rarely ever do,” Tony says. “Especially after yesterday’s fiasco.”

“You mean the whole weekend,” Rhodey says, putting the rest of the eggs into the pan. “Can’t imagine that was fun.”

“Oh come on, it was a ball,” Tony answers sarcastically. “They let me play cops-and-robbers and I was given pizza. Clearly it was a fantastic time.”

Rhodey stares at Tony.

“You know in the contract that I had you sign it specifically states that you have to let me help you, right?”

“It says you have to rescue me regardless of feelings or previous obligations,” Tony says.

“Rescuing you doesn’t just mean I chase after vans and track you down in an abandoned warehouse, it means that I rescue you from those situations before they can happen. But I can only do that if you agree that you won’t get kidnapped,” he says.

“And what, I want to?” Tony asks. “Do I say that?”

“You don’t have to,” Rhodey says, flipping the omelet over. “You never think you’re worth rescuing it because you think you’re never going to be good enough and I think you think that you owe me for giving a shit.”

Tony looks at him.

“You’re really honest.”

“I try to be.”

“I love that about you.”

Rhodey’s hand shakes slightly as he moves the omelet a bit in the pan. He hopes Tony doesn’t notice.

“Well I would love it if you stopped being kidnapped.”

“Aye aye, Colonel Rhodes,” Tony says, saluting. Rhodey rolls his eyes.

“Oh my god, do not.”

“What, am I not supposed to thank our armed services for making this country safe?” he mocks, standing up. “For going above and beyond the call of patriotism and helping keep Americans everywhere safe?”

Rhodey threatens to eat his omelet when he breaks into singing the national anthem.

There’s an...understanding.

Tony starts taking up training with Happy and almost agrees to regular training with Rhodey until Rhodey wants him to get up at six and do some workouts, and he yells “No!” after one workout session.

Rhodey pointedly pretends like he’s not staring at Tony’s chest when he lifts up his shirt to wipe away the sweat.

“Come on Rhodey my darling, let’s do breakfast.”

Tony dragging him to breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. It’s...nice. Rhodey ignores it when Tony waggles his eyebrows as he takes the check and calls him “darling, honey, baby,” and he lets him because it sounds nice.

He doesn’t say anything to Tony. No, you can’t date your boss. It’s unprofessional as hell and Tony probably is just doing it because Rhodey’s in close proximity and they have a good banter going.

The next time that Tony has an attempted kidnapping, Rhodey is there.

He’s there, and he’s being taken away, dragged from Tony, and Tony for the first time looks terrified.

Rhodey tries to struggle, tries to do anything, because Tony has to get away, and he...

He’s knocked unconscious.

When he wakes up, his head hurts worse than it ever has, and for a moment he’s pissed at Tony because he forgets that he’s been kidnapped and there’s no control over the thermostat because the room is hot as all get out.

And then he sees Tony across from him, and he’s never seen Tony angry.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, voice shaking. “I’ll get us out of here. I promise. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault we have assholes take us,” Rhodey says. “But god I would kill for some air conditioning.”

Tony smiles a bit at that.

Here’s a problem: you cannot give Tony Stark anything if you want him to not escape. Either that or he has to be unconscious because he’s a stubborn son of a bitch.

And they used actual handcuffs to keep him there. God, what a joke.

Tony learned how to break out of handcuffs when he was twenty and chained to a bedpost on accident. (Long story.)

This is nothing.

But the problem is that Rhodey’s here. His bodyguard who really shouldn’t be putting his life on the line for someone as shitty as Tony, but here they are, and he has to get him out.

“Follow my lead,” Tony whispers.

“Well of course I will, who else has as much experience being kidnapped as you?” Rhodey mutters.

“Okay is now going to be the time where you sass me? You’re here too. I could leave you.”

“You’re not gonna do that, Pepper would make you come back.”

“No she wouldn’t.”

“Yeah she would!”

“Not after I tell her that you used the last of her salad dressing.”

“Shit.”

Tony snorts, looking at the room. They don’t have security cameras, which is just...questionable. Oh my god, he got kidnapped by amateurs.

He’s kind of embarrassed.

Rhodey gets free, and they’re both headed towards a door, and Rhodey picks up a stray part of a metal pole, and Tony cannot lie and say he’s not intrigued by that.

Not saying he hopes Rhodey gets to use it.

He’s just curious how he’ll utilize it.

They get to just. Walk out. They fucking walk out. What kind of people did they get kidnapped from? It can’t be that easy, can it?

It can’t be...

It is.

Okay sure Tony is driving in a hotwired car and they’re being shot at, but all things considered that’s not the worst thing. And the truck is probably considered stolen anyways, and once Tony makes it to the highway, it’s not like they’ll be able to follow without making it onto national news, not that they haven’t already.

Pepper’s very effective at getting things to trend on national news when she wants to.

Rhodey is sitting on a beach chair. He shouldn’t be, and he also shouldn’t be drinking a mimosa because it’s four p.m. and definitely the morning, but he figures since he got kidnapped he’s allowed at least one mimosa.

“So. Your first kidnapping?” Tony asks. “All things considered, yours went well. I think next time we should go to Wendy’s or something, I was starving-”

“I’m just. I’m glad we’re okay,” Rhodey says. “But yeah. Maybe next time. If there is a next time. I’m going to I think make you hold hands with me so that you don’t get napped by terrible, shitty people.”

“You could’ve just asked to hold my hand, we didn’t need to be kidnapped together,” Tony says.

“Hm, is that a breach of contract?” Rhodey teases.

“Only if Pepper decides to enforce it, and she won’t because you’re the first bodyguard to have an actual success story with me,” Tony says. “So. I’m thinking maybe we skip the kidnapping next time and go straight for dinner.”

“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna say a fast food restaurant.”

“I still could, you don’t know,” Tony grins, winking. “What if our first date is to Burger King? What are you gonna do?”

“Be mad that I still like you,” Rhodey grumbles.

Tony cackles, dropping a kiss onto his hand.

“Do you think I should get another bodyguard or will dragging you away during a party be too awkward for them?”

“...I’ll think about it.”

(They don’t get a new bodyguard.

No matter how much the other security complains that Rhodey’s the only one who knows where Tony is at all times, and they can’t exactly ask them if they’re busy doing...things.

Rhodey finds it hilarious.)

#longer night than usual for me which meant more time to work on this beauty #this has been in my inbox for months #so my apologies #but uhhhh i still did it! which is good #lovelyirony writes #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #rhfe #rhodey #tony stark #pepper potts #rhodey is in love and so is tony and they're both so LAME about it #tony doesn't really care about being kidnapped #meant to make this more angsty but was not feeling it

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 9

TITLE: Tear You To Pieces CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 9 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was sent to make up for his deeds by helping out The Avengers at the tower. Everyone thinks he’s changed, but he is just biding his time. He manipulates and uses someone who works there, who has a crush on him, to get exactly what he wants. RATING: M

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: DARK LOKI, RAPE/NON-CON, MANIPULATION, MURDER, VIOLENCE, EMOTIONAL ABUSE, KIDNAPPING