#at least once its done i can write fic with reckless abandon!

[tethered-heartstrings]

I have a (emphasis!) Huge exam this weekend and I am. wholly fucking terrified.

[pigeonp0st]

Hi :,) love your fics so so much and I have so many requests so you’ll be hearin from me a bit as long as your requests are open lol! Hope that’s ok❤️ I was wondering if you could write a Nat x reader fic where reader was kidnapped by hydra and tortured and the team finds her and bring her back to the tower but she’s different now she has powers and is extremely mentally scarred?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #7

Words: 2,565

Warnings: Depression, trauma

Notes:

Thank you! I don’t mind at all, thank you for requesting and wanting to in the first place. I think this is my longest fic? Or at least one of...I did it fairly quickly though so sorry for any spelling mistakes and grammar errors.

———

Natasha is scared.

She is more scared than she has possibly ever been, and she’s reckless, and she’s determined, and she’s stupid.

But she finds you. She saves you, and everything else she’s come to regret about the ways she did it, and the way she handled it, doesn’t matter.

She pushes open about the fifteenth door she’s looked through and she sees you, trapped and bloody but alive, tied to a chair, and she’s so full of relief and happiness she doesn’t notice the new haunted look in your eyes.

She rushes towards you, feet pounding on concrete and uncaring of how loud she’s being, and feels tears rush to her eyes.

You’re okay. She saved you.

——-

Natasha is the last person to realize you’re not okay, but perhaps she’s the first to realize the depths of that truth.

She watches you, for the hundredth time since you returned two days ago, and the first ‘wrong’ thing she notices is the way your hand shakes around the spoon you’re eating with.

Then, a couple of hours later she realizes that you’ve hardly spoken.

She hates herself for not noticing sooner, but she has now so she tries to say something, not just about this but about all of the pieces of the broken image Natasha hadn’t allowed herself to see in the relief that she had felt after she had found you.

You’ve always been open and honest with her and she hadn’t thought there’d be a reason for that to change now, but when she asks and reaches out for you you jerk away so fast you almost fall off the bed.

“Don’t touch me, Natasha.”

You growl it out so venomously Natasha is momentary struck frozen. She wonders in the second before you speak again if she has done something wrong.

Then, you release a shaky sad breath and lower your head. “I’m...i’m sorry.”

Natasha says nothing, and so you leave.

—-

“Y/N...she’s not here.”

The mug of coffee Natasha’s holding drops from her hand and shatters violently on the ground. The room is deathly silent, with nothing but the beep from the finished microwave to fill the quiet, and Natasha see’s nothing but you tied and bloodied in the hydra base and hears nothing but the quiet and broken way you had told her you were a “monster now.”

And then she feels nothing but sorrow because this is her fault. She made you pull away, Natasha made you need space from the compound (she asked too many questions again earlier), but she also can’t let you have it.

She is scared again, and she hates how it’s becoming a regular feeling. She’s afraid you're going to get hurt again, so she can’t let you go. Not without her. Not yet.

“I’ll find her,” Natasha grits out, abandoning the glass on the floor and rushing to grab her keys from the kitchen cabinet. “If I don’t in an hour or two i’ll call so you guys can—” Natasha pauses, feeling stupid, “did you...did you call...or text?”

Wanda nods slowly, eyebrows furrowed together. “She answered.”

Everyone waits for Wanda to repeat what you had told her but she doesn’t. Not for a long enough moment that Natasha just considers leaving anyways.

It’s dark out, and it’s thundering, and you didn’t tell anyone you were leaving, so she’s worried. Natasha is worried.

“She said that she needed to escape for a couple of hours, to not come after her, to tell Natasha that she was still breathing.”

A pause. Natasha sets her keys back down.

“She said she was lost, and that she was tired.”

“Lost?” Natasha repeats, her heart stopping for a moment and then leaping into her throat.

“Mentally,” Wanda clarifies, huffing out a sigh.

But you said that you don’t want her to come looking for you, so with all of the will power Natasha can summon she stays, and she waits for you to come home.

——-

Lost, you had told Wanda, but can you be lost when you don’t even remember what you’re searching for anymore. When you don’t remember what it was like to feel ‘home.’

The rain pounds hard on your back, it soaks you wet and makes your clothes stick to your skin the way it did when they were soaked with blood, and it drowns out every noise that isn’t the beat of your heart and the downpour of rain

Hydra had experimented on you and tortured you, and you came out with nothing left of the old you and flames on your hand.

They gave you the power to control fire, to summon fire, to be resistant to it.

That’s what they gave but they took too much more.

The fire you’re supposed to master feels like it’s in you, like it’s burning you away bit by bit and leaving nothing but ashes in its wake, and you’re trying. You tried so hard. You tried to put it out, to stop the change, to reverse it, but you can’t. You can’t so you continue to burn and okay—that was manageable—but it wasn’t supposed to burn Natasha.

It wasn’t supposed to burn your friends.

They look at you now and they see it, Natasha is starting to see it, and you know, you know, you know, they can never love this new you. They will only ache for the loss of the past you—and you never meant to hurt them with change.

There is nothing you can do. All feels lost and hopeless, and you're helpless, so you sit in the rain and shiver with the cold seeping into your skin, and for the first time since you were kidnapped your heart and mind releases itself from the burden of its suffering.

For a moment, looking up at the sky, you’re the old you.

At peace.

——-

You walk into the living room, soaked and dripping water everywhere, and you see Natasha curled up on the couch sleeping.

It stops you in your tracks and has you looking around to check if anyone is there and then moving to crouch by her side to study her.

Even though it feels like every bit of you has changed the love you have for Natasha and the others is still the same. You hadn’t taken time to realize it but it’s such a great relief that you almost release a sob before you manage to bite it down.

The love you have for them is the same, they’re the same, the compound is the same.

As you think about the compound you glance around to see if it truly is the way it was and then you spot a shattered glass mug left on the floor.

It’s Nat’s favorite mug, you realize with a bit of sadness on her behalf.

It isn’t broken too terribly…it’s still recognizable, perhaps it can be pieced back together…

Like you. Maybe. If you still love the way you had, if you still have the memories that you had, maybe it’s enough to make your pieces recognizable enough to be pieced back together.

Or maybe it’s storming outside, and you're soaked to the bone feeling too poetic.

Thunder strikes outside and you jump so violently from both the sound and the images that flash through your head that you almost wake up Natasha.

God, you’re still so pathetic.

With an agonized sigh you push yourself up right again and try to remember where the Avengers keep the super glue.

——

Natasha wakes up slowly then abruptly when she remembers that you’re missing. Fuck, had you not come home last night, Nat wonders, are you hurt, did something happen—

“Y/N fixed your mug,” Clinton says from besides her on the couch, gesturing to the mug on the coffee table. Natasha settles back down. “She said that it probably can’t hold liquid in it anymore, but that if you want to test it and it breaks she’ll fix it again.”

“Where is she?” Natasha asks, ignoring the surge of warmth in her chest in favor of her worry. “Did she look okay?”

“In her room,” he answers, then winces, “or yours.”

“How is she?” Natasha repeats.

Clint thinks about it for a moment. “Physically? I think she’s coming down with a fever. Apparently she was out there in the rain for hours,” He sighs, running a hand through his short hair, “emotionally—”

But Natasha doesn’t let him finish before she’s jumping off the couch and rushing towards your room. You don’t go to hers anymore so when she doesn’t find you in yours she worries that you’ve run again...this time she really can’t let you go. Not while you’re sick.

She can’t—

There’s a note on your bed.

“Stop worrying. I’m in your bed...it’s more comfortable than mine.”

She wishes she could hate how much you know her.

———

When Natasha enters her room it’s to the sound of your raspy coughs and then an out of breath; “i’ve been expecting you.”

Natasha laughs unexpectedly and shakes her head at your ridiculousness. “You’re lighter than usual, despite circumstances,” she says quietly after her laughter dies down.

“Usual,” you repeat, the light in your eyes darkening in an instant. “Usual meaning the past week? Is my...is this me your new normal?”

Natasha doesn’t know what to say, and it seems to make you frustrated.

“You should expect more,” you tell her bitterly, “you should ask for more. You deserve more.”

Natasha steps forward and you physically jolt back. She stops. “You got tortured. What did they do to you?”

You shake your head, once, twice, “stop talking Nat. Stop.”

“You asked me to ask for more. You said I should.”

“I meant other things!” You shout angrily, fire in your eyes. Literally. “I meant you should expect more care, you deserve more than me avoiding you, you—”

“I just want to understand,” Natasha whispers, her shoulders dropping. “I don’t care about anything else, I don’t care if you need to avoid me to deal with things by yourself, but I feel like...like I'm lost too. Like I don’t understand the person I've always understood.”

“Natasha, I'm not ready for you to know me,” you whisper, the weight of her words and your sorrow wrapped around your throat and squeezing out secrets you’d rather keep in.

“You’re not a different person.”

“Yes I am.”

“Hold out your hand.”

You blink at her in shock and confusion but do as you're told. Natasha moves towards you, strides towards you, and you try not to wince, you try not to let the sound of her footsteps bring you to places you’d rather not be.

Her hand reaches for you, you close your eyes—expecting pain because it’s all you ever knew in your haunting week with Hydra—and when you open them again it’s because Natasha has interlaced your fingers.

Her hand...her hand looks the same against yours. It feels the same. She’s touched you since you’ve been back but you were too busy trying not to move away to remember that this used to be the only thing you wanted back when she was just a crush. To hold her hand...then when she became your girlfriend it was a comfort that you thought you’d always seek.

“Is your favorite color still the same?” Natasha asks, voice strong and almost as intense as her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Is your favorite song the same, is your favorite movie the same, is your—”

“All of those things don’t make me who I am,” you stutter, unable to hold her eyes. Where Natasha is strong you are weak. Her strength is the sun, and yours is just a dying light bulb.

“They’re small but they matter,” Natasha insists, looking at you so softly you wonder what she sees.

“Are you still trying?” She asks quietly, “do you still care too much?”

“Yes.”

“You’re in pain,” Natasha notes, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and despising the world for the things it’s done to you when you wince. “You’re scared, traumatized, you leave the room when people are being too loud, you constantly look around, you don’t like people being too close,” she stops, tilting her head. “Care to add?”

“I’m...tired. I don’t even want to get up in the morning for fear of what I'll face through the day—just while doing mundane things. I'm so weak it makes me furious.”

Natasha nods, closing her eyes, “you need to run sometimes, you try so hard to look okay around the others sometimes your jaw physically shakes with the effort, you’re hesitant in everything you do now—”

“Okay.” You cut her off, words shaky. “I get it.”

“I love you. Not loved. I love you. I loved you two weeks ago, before all of this, and I love you in this second just the same,” she cups your cheek and you don’t wince. “I hurt for you. I want to know what you’ve been through, I want you to open up to me, but you’re still Y/N, aren’t you? You’re still the woman I fell in love with.”

“Why are you so sure of that?” You ask, eyes watering.

“You fixed my mug,” Natasha says, breathing out a short huff of laughter. “Thank you.”

“You loved it, Nat.”

“You hated it.”

And okay. “I need time,” you whisper, “time to process and then slowly maybe I can…maybe I can heal.”

With all of the certainty in the world Natasha says; “you will”, and you believe her. “And if you need time then you have it.” She moves to step back, to drop her hand, but you don’t let her.

You grasp her hand where it is on your cheek and with your eyes you beg her to stay, and then you do with your voice too; “not from you. Just please don’t ask me questions about what happened yet. Can we just…” you sigh, glancing down. “Can we just exist together?”

Natasha looks at you, really looks at you, and she sees how vulnerable you are in this moment, how strong, She sees it in the way your hand shakes against her, in the way—

“Say something,” you beg, exasperated, “please.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha says, chuckling at the glare you give her. “I just love you so much sometimes I need a moment,” and then, she says, easily like there is no other option, like she would want nothing else, “Of course i’ll stay.”

And the sorrow wrapped around your throat like a rope only getting tighter, and the trauma burning away at your insides like an imperishable flame, and the anxiety like boulders on your shoulder only keeping you down, it all goes away.

For a moment, you suspect, just like when you were outside in the rain, but the fact that you can feel this way here, with another person in the room this close to you, with nothing there to drown everything out, it gives you hope.

It’s the first time you’ve seen the light in the darkness, but you think that maybe it was always there.

“Thank you, Natasha. For everything.”

She smiles, softly and full of love. “Thank you for everything, too,” and what she’s really saying is; “thank you for giving me you.”

——

For Part 2 click here

(Takes place about a month later)

[honeyyui]

Laito Appreciation Week 2021 - Day 7

✧༺♥༻∞  The final day is here!! It feels like this whole week went by so fast.  ∞༺♥༻

To end things off, I wrote a fic! This is the first DiaLovers work I’ve ever done (and I’m still a bit of a newbie to publishing my writing online in general), so I’m kinda nervous but I hope you all enjoy! 

I put it on AO3, and it can be found linked here.

This story is about Laito and Yui’s relationship. Be warned though, it isn’t meant to be happy, and it contains some potentially upsetting themes. Be safe! 

Thank you so much @everything-laito for hosting this event. I had such a great time participating.

✧༺♥༻∞  If you don’t want to use AO3 for some reason, I’ll also put the fic below the cut of this post for accessibility's sake. It might be a little cumbersome to read on here, though.  ∞༺♥༻

From a young age, Yui Komori already had a vague idea of what “love” was supposed to be.

She slowly picked things up here and there - from books where at the end of the story, the hero saves the damsel in distress, from songs on the radio filled with longing and sweet poetry. As she grew older, she learned of love from giddy classmates; girls gushing about their very own prince charming who would ride in on a white horse. They whispered of heartfelt handwritten notes and soft shoulder touches. Young. Innocent. Hopeful.

But most importantly, she learned of love from her father. He would tell her the same thing over and over.

Wait until you grow older. Meet a nice, upstanding Christian man at church. Wear a white dress. Get married. Raise a family. Be a homemaker. You will live the perfect life.

Every night in bed she’d get lost in thought. She’d created an idealized image of this elusive lover in her mind, falling asleep to the idea of a peaceful, pious life in the idyllic countryside.

Now, she had long since lost the ability to picture it.

Yui sat cradling him, panting and heaving. Streams of moonlight poured through the church’s stained glass and illuminated their bodies, which were covered in an intermingling sheen of sweat.

Through her desperate sighs, she spoke.

“This isn’t what I imagined.”

“Imagined?” Laito asked with a smile. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s not...what my father told me.” Yui still breathed heavily, her pale, quivering chest rising in a slow and painful rhythm.

He waited patiently for her to continue.

“Told you about what…?” Laito prodded at her with his words, as though looking to coax out any stray emotions bottled up inside. He cocked his head to the side inquisitively.

“Love.”

“He abandoned you.” Said Laito, stroking Yui’s now-messy hair. He brushed away a few slick strands that still stuck to her forehead, and tilted her head up by her chin so he could stare into her eyes. “What could he ever understand about love, hmm?”

“But-” Yui stuttered.

“I thought we were past this.” Laito’s spoke, his voice low and flat. He narrowed his eyes, and his grip on Yui’s face grew tighter.

She felt her breath catch in her throat. “I...I know. I’m sorry.” She gulped, repeating it once more for good measure. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okaayy, I’ll accept your apology...” Laito cooed, delicately trailing his fingers from her jawline to her neck, and then along her collarbone.

Yui breathed a sigh of relief.

“...If we continue.” Commanded Laito, pressing his fingertip into the divot at the base of her neck.

“More?” she said, shocked. Whining in dismay, she slumped forward, desperately reaching for a warmth that was not there.. “I’m so tired...I can’t…” She hardly had the strength to raise her hand to meet his. “You took so much… and it’s been hours…”

“Ah ah~” “Don’t you remember our vows?”

She felt his expression turn dark - his gaze boring into her core. Yui squeezed her eyes shut, and as she did she felt Laito yank her body forward and pull her in painfully tight. He held her so close that she could feel his breath against her ear. She felt as though she was suffocating; the smell of blood and sweat filling her mouth and nose and stretching its violent tendrils down her throat.

“Don’t you love me?’

His fingernails dug roughly into her shoulders; angry half-moon divots pressing themselves into her flesh.

“I...I do.”

“Good.” Said Laito. He ran his hands over her shoulders, tracing circles along her all the way down to her exposed chest, which was peppered with puncture wounds and bruises that bloomed in unsightly colors. “I love you. I love you.” He chanted softly, repeating it like a mantra. Deft fingertips explored Yui’s body with reckless abandon, poking at fading welts and prodding at old scars. He pinched her soft skin, eliciting the same reactions as he had time and time again without fail. Her body was a record for him to rewind and replay as he pleased. “I love you.” He whispered again, as if trying to convince not only Yui - but himself as well - that it was the truth.

Before she knew it, Yui’s body hit the floor as she was roughly shoved down.

She stared up at the church’s ceiling - a tall peak surrounded by walls filled with ornate stained glass and beautiful murals. Splitting into fragments, the bright moonlight still filtered through the intricate pattern and dizzying mixture of colors, dying itself ethereal hues. The light’s reflection bathed the floor in a deep blue glow, faintly creating the illusion that it was a vast ocean, threatening to swallow her up at a moment's notice.

Above the windows, she could see a weathering and faded painting of the sky. Billowy white clouds spiraled around and around, and cherubs and angels flew up towards the sun; hands outstretched gracefully, accompanying God at a golden throne and the grand gates to heaven.

It looked impossibly high from where she lay.

As Laito lifted her legs to her chest and pushed her down deep into that endless ocean of blue, she let herself become lost in thought.

Every day was similar. First thing after he’d wake up, he’d be all over her - in bed, In the shower, in the garden, anywhere. Anywhere and everywhere, any time he wanted. She’d obey his wordless instructions, melting into his carefully calculated touches and strokes. When he did speak, she let the praise and degradation blend together into a sickening mixture until her head went numb and she took it all in - fully and without inhibition. The crippling shame came later, though by now she’d long learned to bury it.

He’d tease her mercilessly, then fall silent when he’d had his fill.

One time, she begged for a kiss. A real kiss, not just one meant to satiate her complaints, or one that served to pacify and mystify her; not one that led to anything else, not one meant to be a formality that preceded torn skirts and trembling legs. The most she got was a quick peck on the forehead.

She learned to live with it. After all, this was what love was, right? Who was she to dictate the way he showed his love?

I have no right, she thought once, massaging her aching muscles and wiping still-damp tears from her face, to pass judgement on others.

When they loved, she’d get lost in the ache of his nails and fangs, and she’d scream until her throat went raw. It didn’t matter that she hardly got a moment alone - it served to help quell the feelings inside: the fear that someone else would rise to the surface and claim her mind when she was caught alone and vulnerable. At least he kept her occupied. Satiated. When she felt the pain of his love she felt something that uniquely belonged to her. She took the pain and became it.

Laito’s sharp, quick thrusts snapped her back to reality. She attempted to steady herself by pushing her arms into the floor, but her vision swam and she shuddered vigorously. Was it the anemia? Her heart? She no longer knew. Her body felt alien.

This is love. She told herself, his one hand around her neck and the other creeping its way to her mouth.

Before she could fully realize it, she felt a hot tear run down her cheek and spill on to the floor. Then came another. And another. By the time they had started, stopping them was futile. She moaned through her choked sobs.

“Why are you crying?” said Laito. “Wait, don’t tell me - you’re feeling sentimental about joining our bodies again in the place we married? In the place where you had your first?” He eased his grip on her and removed his fingers from her mouth, instead opting to drag them though her still-falling tears. He licked his pointer finger languidly.

“I DON'T KNOW!” Yui wailed. “I don’t know..”

He stopped moving, and stared down at Yui with hawkish eyes. “...You aren’t worried about God, are you?” Laito smirked, failing to suppress his amusement.

Yui smiled through her tears. “No... because I think he stopped watching over me long ago.”

Eventually, the moonlight faded and dawn crawled out to take its place. Fresh sunlight trickled through the glass and warmed the still, silent air. Yui had long since passed out, curled up in a limp heap on the floor next to her wrinkled clothing.

“Bitch-Chan,” Laito whispered, gazing at her sleeping body. “We’re going to have to go home eventually…”

Kneeling down to pick up her uniform, he dressed her, careful not to jostle her awake. He haphazardly tossed her skirt on - not bothering to zip it - and let her blouse bunch around her neck like an odd-looking scarf. He forwent her bra, socks and underwear - slipping the very latter into his pants pocket. Slowly, he slid out of his uniform jacket and placed it around her shoulders as a covering.

On the floor beneath where her clothes had been, sat a lonely rosary.

He watched her chest rise and fall softly a few more times before gingerly lifting her up onto his back. His calm footsteps echoed throughout the church.

Yui groggily woke to soft, rhythmic movements and the feeling of something fluffy behind her neck. Still half-asleep, she relished in the soft, warm feeling and listened mindlessly to the tempo of her own drowsy sighs.

“Eh? You’re stirring now?” said Laito.

In her state, she could hardly find the words to respond to him. She still wasn’t cognisant of much around her.

On vague instinct, she moved one hand to reach for her skirt pocket. Something wasn’t right.

“I think…” mumbled Yui. “I forgot something.”

“Really now?”

“I can’t remember…” she drawled.

Laito soothed her with a gentle “Go back to sleep. We’re almost home.”

Well, whatever it is, thought Yui.

If I forgot it, then it probably wasn’t that important.

[dailyironfamily]

day 10 - role reversal

Day ten of the November Fic Challenge is role reversal! And I thought what better opportunity to write something for Earth-57289, that ‘verse that only exists in one panel. But what a good panel it is.

Pepper/Rhodey established with future Pepper/Tony/Rhodey. (Minor content warning for reference to alcoholism, but no drinking occurs in the fic.)

Tony will forever be grateful to Dr. James Rhodes. When Stark Industries had collapsed and Tony was in dire straights, Rhodes had picked him up and offered him everything he needed to get his life together. Rhodes didn’t care that his recklessness and alcoholism had tanked an entire company. Rhodes thought he was smart and driven and worth something, and gave him a second chance. So yeah, Tony admires him just for that, and that alone would be enough to satisfy any normal person.

But not Tony. No, Tony had to go and develop a crush on his boss.

It seems completely obvious from an objective standpoint―Rhodes is passionate, considerate, clever, handsome, the list goes on and on. Who wouldn’t like someone like that?

Unfortunately, Rhodes’s girlfriend is likely in total agreement with him.

She’s no slouch either, and Tony finds it hard to be jealous. Pepper Potts is a famous attorney who specializes in superhero cases, does a ton of charity work, and still finds time to help at Rhodes Labs International. Tony watches her and Rhodes when she comes into the office; the two make quite a pair, and Tony contents himself with just watching. He knows he doesn’t compare, and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to wreck a long-running relationship just to satisfy his own dumb crush.

Which is when everything gets shaken up in the weirdest way possible.

“You wanted to see me, Dr. Rhodes?” Tony asks as he enters the robotics lab, the room strangely empty save for him and Rhodes and...Ms. Potts?

“I’ve told you before, Tony, Jim is fine.” Rhodes―Jim―smiles at him.

Flustered, Tony answers, “Of course, Dr. Jim. Uh, Jim. Just Jim.”

“Pepper was asking me about the project you’re working on,” Jim goes on, thankfully ignoring his embarrassing babbling. “How far along would you say you are?”

“The exoskeleton? We’re in the final testing phase already.” He turns to direct his question to Pepper herself. “Why do you ask?”

Pepper doesn’t even hesitate as she answers. “I’m looking to put someone in that suit as my bodyguard.” That by itself is enough of a shock, but apparently he hasn’t heard anything yet, because she continues,

“I’d like it to be you.”

“W-what?”

“Jim speaks very highly of you,” Pepper says. “You’re the lead on the project and know the most about it. The Iron Man is your brainchild.”

He flushes slightly at the name. It had started as a stupid placeholder at the beginning of the project and had never been changed―the thing wasn’t even made of iron. But coming out of her mouth it sounds almost regal.

“What do you need a bodyguard in a military grade exoskeleton for?” he asks, bewildered.

“It’s confidential. Let’s just say I’ve taken some high profile cases lately and the risks are higher than usual.”

Tony frowns, wondering what kind of danger she’s in that she’d resort to asking him to pilot an experimental armor. Supervillain attack level of danger? Could he even handle something like that?

“Pepper asked my recommendations for pilots,” Jim tells him. “After me, which she isn’t keen on for some reason, I think you would be best.”

He should stop and think about this. He’s the last person anyone should be asking to be a bodyguard, especially one flying around in a big metal suit. He’s proven himself a liability. Unstable. He’s just an engineer. Nothing special.

He says yes.

They keep his identity a secret, which was one of Tony’s stipulations when he agreed to help. The last thing Pepper and Rhodes Labs need is the news getting out that ex-CEO Tony Stark is the one piloting the Iron Man. (He’d suggested renaming it before the announcement, but Pepper had insisted Iron Man remain. Tony supposes it does have a nice ring to it.)

For the most part, it’s just a lot of standing around looking intimidating, which is pretty easy. He only shows up for high profile events or important court cases, though sometimes Pepper coaxes him into coming along to a party or charity event. He has her phone number now, and same with Rhodes’s, which is weird but a little exciting. He could text Jim if he wanted to, but he never does. It seems too forward.

Then Jim texts him first.

You busy tonight?

Tony stares at the message, unsure how to answer. Should he play it casual? Or is this some work thing? Finally, he just texts back,

Not really. What’s up?

Jim’s answer is almost instantaneous.

Pepper’s trying her hand at cooking at home for once. Come over?

Tony’s never been to Jim’s house in a non-professional capacity before. He answers just as quickly,

Sure. Time?

Jim texts him the details, and then Tony spends the rest of the afternoon agonizing over what this means. They’re probably just being friendly. After all, he sees Jim at work almost every day, and Pepper he sees at least once a week, either as Iron Man or when she visits the lab. Maybe they want to try some team bonding thing.

Jim’s house is fancy, inside and out. There’s a lot of art that Tony discovered was mostly Pepper’s doing, but Jim has a guitar collection that he and Tony had spent a whole afternoon messing around with one time he visited. Tony’s pretty sure that was the best afternoon of his life so far.

Tonight he’s just nervous, dressed up in his nicest suit and carrying a bottle of wine and bouquet of flowers as he shows up at their door. Overkill? Probably. But better than arriving empty-handed. Jim greets him at the door, takes the wine from him, but he makes Tony hand the flowers to Pepper himself, leading him into the kitchen where she’s putting the finishing touches on dinner.

“Oh, they’re lovely, Tony,” she says, sniffing at them while Jim gets a vase and fills it with water. Tony’s glad he splurged on an expensive bouquet. “Have a seat, dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

The kitchen table’s already set, so he sits down and watches Pepper and Jim gather the last of the dinner supplies, turning off stove tops and ovens and bringing over platters and bowls. Tony tries to get up to help, but Pepper pushes him back into his chair.

“Everything looks amazing, Ms. Potts. Pepper,” he corrects quickly, because both of them prefer him using their first names in private.

“I’ll confess, Jim helped a lot. But thank you,” she says, smiling. She picks up the bottle of wine he’d brought with him, holding it out to pour. “Wine?”

“Tony doesn’t drink,” Jim says, and Pepper and Tony both look at him in surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry. We’ll just save this for later,” she says, getting up and putting it on the counter instead. Tony’s still slightly stunned Jim had remembered, and that they’d forgo drinking with dinner just for him.

Pepper’s already changing the subject when she returns, encouraging them to start plating the food, and she asks Tony what he’s working on at work. It’s...nice. Normal. Tony keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop (what if they’re just being nice because they’re firing him as Iron Man? What if Pepper found out about his crush on her boyfriend?) but it never comes. They have a completely casual dinner and by the time Jim pulls out a chocolate torte for dessert, Tony has to admit that nothing bad is going to happen. He really is just this lucky.

When the meal comes to an end, Tony doesn’t want to go. He’s got no excuse to linger, but he clings to what he can while Pepper and Jim continue to chat over empty dessert plates. It’s not until Pepper sees that it’s already ten thirty p.m. that they stop, Pepper apologizing for holding him here so long.

“It’s no problem at all, seriously,” he tells them, standing up, and he tries to take the dishes to the sink, but Jim won’t let him, grabbing them all himself. He waits until Jim’s done before he adds,

“Thank you for the meal. And the company. I really appreciate it.”

Pepper and Jim both smile at him, and Tony feels something hot clench in his stomach.

“It was our pleasure, really,” Pepper replies, walking with him to the door. Jim trails behind them, hands in his pockets as he ambles along. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

The hot clench in Tony’s stomach flip flops at the thought of getting to do this again, and against his better judgment he says, “I’d love that.”

The next time he sees Pepper it’s a disaster. She’s inspecting an abandoned warehouse involved in a negligence lawsuit she’s currently working on; Iron Man tags along, not expecting any danger. Afterwards, he’s not entirely sure what happened, but he still blames himself for not paying close enough attention.

An explosion rocks through the building before either of them know what’s happening. The suit pinpoints the origin of the explosion, somewhere in the basement, strong enough to shake the entire building on its foundations. He dives for Pepper as the ceiling starts to collapse, and she shrieks as he wraps his arms around her and immediately gets gets knocked on the back of the helmet by a giant chunk of concrete.

He stumbles, dazed, Pepper still half in his arms. Her eyes are wide and she’s yelling something, but he can’t make it out, it sounds like she’s a mile away. Shit, something wrong with the suit? Whatever the problem is, it can wait. He needs to get Pepper out of here before the rest of the building collapses.

Scooping her up in his arms, he kicks on the boot repulsors and aims for the hole in the ceiling, dodging pieces of debris. By the time he lands a safe distance away and sets her down, the warehouse is on fire, the ground underneath it collapsing.

“Call 911,” he says, but he’s not sure she even heard him before he passes out.

He wakes to the sound of beeping hospital monitors, and his head is killing him. Something rustles to his right, and he blinks, trying to focus.

“Potts. Pepper Potts. Is she okay?” he rasps out, needing to know.

“She’s fine,” someone answers, but he thinks that’s her own voice.

Forcing his eyes open the rest of the way, he turns his head to look, and sure enough, Pepper’s sitting in a chair at his bedside, looking worried. Jim stands beside her, a hand resting against her back.

“Welcome back, man,” Jim says, trying for a smile, but it’s strained.

“What happened?” he asks. The warehouse...there’s no way that explosion was an accident.

“It was a bomb,” Jim says, confirming his suspicions. “There’s some suspects, but we can talk about that later. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit in the head,” Tony says dryly. “We’ve got to go over the specs of that helmet again.”

“Later,” Jim says again, and Pepper reaches for Tony’s hand, lying limp on the bed. She squeezes gently, voice sincere as she says,

“Thank you.”

“Not gonna lie, I’d thought you needing a bodyguard was kind of bullshit,” Tony mumbles, but he manages to squeeze her hand in return. “But clearly I was wrong.”

“Thank goodness for that.” She doesn’t let go of his hand, and Tony glances up at Jim, but he doesn’t seem to even notice.

“Still, I understand if you want to replace me,” he continues, glancing back down at their clasped hands. “Get someone who’s properly trained.”

“What?” Pepper looks shocked at the idea, and Jim shakes his head. “You saved me, Tony. You were amazing.”

“I got hit on the head and fainted. Not exactly heroic.”

Jim leans in, puts a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony’s breath catches in his throat. “You’re both alive because of you. That sounds heroic to me.”

“There is one thing we wanted to ask, before you continued as Iron Man,” Pepper adds. “If you want to continue.”

“I do,” Tony says without hesitation. Despite what happened, he can’t imagine not being the one to be there for them, watching over them. He just can’t believe they’ll still have him after this.

Jim finally draws his hand back from Tony’s shoulder, and Pepper takes it in her other hand, the one not holding on to Tony’s. “Have dinner with us. As a date.”

Time stops for a moment, Tony’s pretty sure. That or he’s gone back into shock from his head injury.

Jim seems to take his silence as a bad sign, because he quickly says, “It’s inappropriate, isn’t it? I told you, Pepper, we’re both technically his boss, it’s weird.”

Tony scrambles to interrupt, not wanting Jim to think that’s true at all. “No, no! Uh, you just surprised me, is all. Um.” He glances between them, tempted to ask if this is some sort of test or trick. “Seriously?”

Pepper nods. “Very seriously.”

“And if you say no you can still be Iron Man,” Jim hurries to assure him, “so don’t think your answer determines whether you’ve still got a job or not―”

“I’d love to go to dinner,” Tony interrupts again, surprised yet slightly endeared. He’s never seen cool, calm Dr. Rhodes so flustered before. He kind of likes it. “A date dinner. And to keep being Iron Man. If you’ll have me.”

“We’d be happy to have you,” Pepper says, all smiles, and squeezes his hand even tighter. Tony smiles back, and Jim laughs, a pleasant, hearty sound that makes Tony feel like everything’s going to be okay.

Like Tony said before. He’d forever be grateful to Dr. James Rhodes, and Pepper Potts, for giving him a chance.

[the-cryptographer]

Here, I'll help get your ideas going about the rest of Lottery Ticket. Pick the most helpful? 001 for Polar OR Violet OR Ettushipping OR even Arrogantshipping, OR 002 for Mai OR Joey OR Seto??? (also I can't decide either lol)

Thank you for the ask  :D

Lotto Ticket’s pretty much planned out. I just need to stop making things difficult and write more, but-

mmm, I already answered 002 for Mai, and I talked a little teeny bit there about how I see her and Seto’s being bros. So… I answered 001 for JouKai and Polar. Under the cut because whining about Jou and Kaiba gets long in particular x_x

JouKai

when I started shipping it if I did:

Somewhere in the nebulous time between watching the show as akid and when I started first reading fanfic for this show, my subconsciousdecided this was the combination of characters to slot into ffnet’s searchengine.

my thoughts:

F- F- F- F- FOILS! It’s a ship of conflicting circumstanceand ideology. It’s super fun to watch them butt heads at every turn, until somethingmanages to break through.

I think- In the series itself, Jounouchi and Kaiba both, ina sense, have their worlds and eyes opened by Yuugi and Atem respectively.Yuugi opens Jou up to opportunity – the possibility that there are ways he cansucceed without having to be a bully and a thug, and that it’s okay for him tonurture the more kind and loving aspects of himself. Atem opens Kaiba up to theidea that there can be trust and opportunity and connection with other people,that there is a way that cooperation and friendship (and maybe even miracles)can happen. I guess I think Jounouchi and Kaiba’s relationship is a kind ofnext step? Jounouchi & Kaiba are far more dissimilar than Yuugi &Jounouchi and Kaiba & Atem – so the process of reconciling their worldviewsin a way that is made to accommodate one another, while allowing them to retaintheir differences, is one that is able to open their eyes further to grandbreadth of the world and its possibilities – that there are many ways to liveand to be and they only need choose what works for them.

Also they both really deeply understand what it is to be desperate. I don’t really think they’dbe able to empathise much with the particular circumstances of such desperation,but I think they could really begin to understand on a deep level that alldesperation looks the same and it’s ugly and brings out the worst in people. If they could come to have sympathy for each other and themselves it would be nice.

Also I’m addicted to the class background spin *gnashesteeth* Jou’s more prototypically lower class than Kaiba’s prototypically upperclass in a cultural sense, but it’s still fun as heck~

What makes me happy about them:

The process of them coming to respect one another. Theprocess of them learning not to hurt each other. The process of them learningto cut themselves a break and deciding that there’s no reason they shouldn’t eachbe allowed their own happiness and fulfilment.

What makes me sad about them:

They already have an established relationship based on beingreally cruel to each other, and it’s really hard to alter patterns of behaviourthat have already been established. I can easily see them making efforts torepair how they interact with one another, and then, in some moment whenthey’re both angry and under pressure, losing the traction they’d built up tothat point – slipping into old patterns of being really nasty and cruel, exceptworse because they would be armed with an amount of intimacy that meant theywould really /know/ how to make the other one hurt. I wouldn’t want them tostay together if they crossed that kind of line, but it makes me sad how easilyI think they could cross that line, especially within the span of the firstcouple of years they’re together. It makes me extra sad how easily I think they mightbe inclined to /purposefully/ cross those lines as a means of sabotaging a lovethey feel they don’t deserve.

Also, something that doesn’t make me sad so much as frustrates me in my attempts to write them: In the pre-DSoD world, or given a post-DSoD world where Atemisn’t able to be Seto’s continued outlet for duelling/interpersonal connection,it’s very, very easy for me toimagine Seto isolating himself to the point of potential fatality. Seto… couldbe very rigid about this… and I find Jounouchi uniquely capable of addressingthis problem. Given that Jounouchi has some pretense or motivation for hasslingSeto, I think Jounouchi would – and that becomes self-perpetuating as Jounouchiis met with resistance. The more barriers Seto puts up, the more Jounouchi seesthis as a challenge, and the more he takes a sadistic glee in tearing thosebarriers down. In some ways, I think you need somebody with Jounouchi’s levelof reckless, self-destructive persistence to break through to Seto. But, at the same time,Jounouchi’s not being nice when he does this. He’s being forceful. He’s beingdisrespectful of other people’s boundaries. He’s not doing it out of concernfor Seto (at least not at first). He just enjoys forcing Seto into situationswhere Seto is off-balance, so he can feel steady in comparison. He’s being a bully. So I’m kind of torn betweenwanting to say, ‘jfc, Jou, STOP!’, and ‘jfc, Jou, KEEP FUCKING GOING! You willrestrain Seto and physically drag him out of his comfort zone if you have to,bc Seto’s comfort zone is such a small stretch of barren land – it’s only amatter of time before he dies of starvation!’ Ugh, and as Jou does this, he’salso being met with Seto giving off terrible mixed signals and periodically beingreally, really terrible in an attempt to get Jou to buzz the fuck off, but it doesn’t work because Jou is a neglectbaby who doesn’t care if people hurt him so long as they’re paying attention tohim. And then Seto gets to be all relieved when Jou hasn’t given up on him evenafter he’s gone and stabbed Jou with a pen.So all around it feels like I’mrewarding them for behaving really, really terribly. But it feels so organic to me the way it’s happening - let me stew in thistrash a little bit longer, okay?

things done in fanfic that annoy me:

Everything.

Offthe top of my head – the narrative pushing the idea that either Jou or Kaiba isthe better person, or the idea that their power struggle can be resolved in theprocess of finding the winner, instead of abandoning the fight. Seme/uketropes. I think everyone at this point has acknowledged Seto calls Jou doggythings is an attempt to dehumanise him, so Seto using such terminology as a petname is really fucking gross.

things I look for in fanfic:

Sometimes I’m just in the mood to read something fluffy, butmost of the time I’m looking for fic that acknowledges that they are bothreally cruel to one another, and that that cruelty isn’t superficial. That theyare both angry and maladjusted as fuck, and they have very, very valid reasons to have beef with oneanother and, without reaching and reassessing the deep insecurities and beliefsthat cause that anger, any attempts they make to play nice and be kind aresuperficial af and unlikely to last.

(I mean… I think there’s value to thembeing able to indulge in a little kindness even superficially – certainly theycan’t spend the whole long, gruelling process of self-change being at eachother’s throats, it would be too exhausting. So I don’t mind reading about thembeing superficially kind, but it can’t be sold to me as being somehow deeperthan it is, you feel?)

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

As much as I’m SUPER invested in Kaiba and Jou having someset of postcanon foibles that allow them to better understand one another andgrow as individuals - yeah I’m okay with them ultimately ending up with other people.

For Jou – Mai. For Kaiba – either Isis or Atem. I likerivalshipping too, but jumping from Jou to Yuugi would definitely be the causeof upsetting dramas.

My happily ever after for them:

Theylearn to fucking chill a little

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Once more – “Jou doesn’t so much spoon people as he wraps hislegs around their chest and awkwardly strangle-hugs their face like it’s astrange laying-down-on-your-side sleepy piggyback ride.”

It’s things like this that, at first, make Seto wonder whyhe puts up with Jou. But, as time goes on, he gives up on wondering because he’snever going to find the answer. (Or, rather, admit the answer to himself.)

…At least one of the answers is that Jou likes running hishands softly through Kaiba’s hair and soothing him to sleep by massaging hisforehead, and it’s very comforting.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

They both enjoy duelling to a certain extent, but I thinkKaiba finds duelling Jou much less fun and challenging than the other wayaround, so that mismatch probably discourages it from being their true go-toactivity. But Yuugi invites them over for game nights periodically, and it’sbecomes a kind of fun thing for both of them to do.

They kind of have different interests, so I imagine they’rethe kind of couple that does their own things and then reconvenes to sharestories or otherwise silently enjoy each other’s presence. Kaiba’s aworkaholic, so a lot of times he’s on his laptop in the evenings, while Jousits next to him reading manga, or watching TV shows with headphones in. Kaiba oftenstays at the office late too, and Jou will come over just to be a reassuringpresence. He brings a sleeping bag and something to do and camps out on thedivan. Jou has learned not to bother Kaiba, and Kaiba’s learned not to bebothered in a complementary fashion.

For a very long time, Seto proves to be kind of difficult todrag out for dates and the like with any regularity. But, as Seto ages andstarts trusting Mokuba with more Kaiba Corp responsibilities, he’ll have morefree time. Jou starts taking him out for walks – sometimes to really date-ishplaces like theme parks or the promenade or the aquarium, but a lot of timesthey just go to the park or on nature-lite hikes. Jou’s extremely chatty onthese walks and runs ahead to look at this or that and points things out toSeto. Jou kind of gets worked up because Kaiba’s really quiet and mostly justnods and doesn’t say much, and then Jou becomes worried he’s annoying Kaiba,and then he gets annoyed that he’s worried and resolves to be extra loud andannoying. Really though Kaiba’s not annoyed at all – he enjoys listening to Joutalk and enjoys watching Jou get really cheerful and excited about these walks– Kaiba’s just quiet. By this point they won’t be so incapable of propercommunication though so, within the span of a walk or two, either Seto willnotice Jou’s being angry about talking and pointing things out instead ofproperly cheerful and ask him why, or Jou will break and ask Seto if he’sannoyed and that’s why isn’t he talking, and then they’ll clear up theirmisunderstanding. Jou will feel kind of silly for worrying afterwards~

==

JouMai

when I started shipping it if I did:

I was shipping this in 2001, when I didn’t know whatshipping was. I don’t remember what about Duellist Kingdom convinced me… Butsomething in Duellist Kingdom convinced me!!!

my thoughts:

Oh, geez, I mean- They’re just so lovely!!! I think theirDuellist Kingdom repertoire convinces me more than their Battle City one does.The way Jounouchi convinced Mai to take the star chips from Yuugi and kind ofconvinces her they’re friends, and then the way Mai returns the favour when shegives Jou the entry card. I feel like it was a really strong base of give andtake that wasn’t borne out of some kind of attempt to return favours upon eachother, but to genuinely help one another. It’s just so sweet.

And I feel like they buzz at similar levels. They’re bothkind of high energy and outgoing. And they’re both kind of immature, but inways that can both cause conflict and complement each other.

Also, it is kind of important to me that, in canon, theyseem to react to each other in the realm of being attracted to one another.Something about how it’s presented in the series, with Jou immediately going ‘wow,’and Mai being both dismissive and smitten seems really honest to me.

What makes me happy about them:

When they can be honest with each other and really bask inhow much they are cherished.

What makes me sad about them:

I think they don’t have a very good grasp on when theteasing things they do and say become genuinely hurtful to other.

I think theymight never meet each other at the right time to make their romance work.

And, also, I think Mai’s highkey convinced there’s somethingwrong with her for being attracted to Jou, given he’s eight years younger andalso washed-out thug with no prospects. Which… I won’t say her tastes aren’tinteresting, or that she shouldn’t absolutely keep in mind that he’s still aminor during the series, but I think it’s just one of many data points that Maicherry picks to use as part of her thesis on why she is fundamentally flawedand unloveable, which is kind of – fuckingstop it, Mai.

things done in fanfic that annoy me:

Excepting a couple of key stories, a lot of JouMai fic seemsto blend together in my mind in one really indistinct blob. I’m not sure there’sanything that outright annoys me so much as a lot of things that haven’tinspired me. I’m sorry, I still haven’t read yours yet miranova~

things I look for in fanfic:

I’mnot really sure what to say except, ‘something unique’ or ‘something thoughtprovoking

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Vivian for Mai. And pretty much anyone for Jou, but Yuugi andYuugi&Kaiba both come to mind. I’ll confess I flat out don’t want to readabout Jounouchi and Mai breaking up though. Even in passing, like, a throwawayline about how they dated once and it didn’t work out. In all the fics I’veread, I can only think of two that did this that I didn’t x-out of andneither one was JouKai

My happily ever after for them:

Maigets to have her career and make lots of moolah and live her life, and thenthey get together when they’re both older (Mai might even be pushing 40 at thatpoint, lol) and have lots of new exciting adventures together :)I think they’d want a kid or two but, even after the kids, Mai probably won’t be convinced on marriagefor another ten or twenty years, lol

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Mai gets fed up with Jounouchi’s strangehold piggyback ride versionof spooning and takes over big spoon responsibilities… at least part of thetime. I think Mai likes feeling warm and surrounded, so she might curl upfacing him and he kind of curls in around her.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

Duelling and talking duel monsters, tbh. But I also thinkthey’re a very date-y couple. They’re always going places, whether it’s to themall or the movies or biking out to scenic kinds of places. Mai would like totake Jou on vacation abroad too~

I’ve talked about Jou and Mai going to the spa together too, but that might be overly indulgent of me~