(The air was thick with the smell of burnt metal and gunpowder. Y/N stood over the shattered remains of a training bot, a small smile tugging at his lips. The round had hit dead center, as expected. Perfection, as always. Y/N reloaded his pistols, the smooth click of the magazine sliding into place a comforting sound in the otherwise quiet training ground.)
????: Nice shot!
(Her voice cut through the silence, and Y/N tensed. Yang Xiao Long. Y/N didn't need to turn around to know she was there; Y/N could feel the heat radiating off her even from a distance. The same heat that always followed her, the same heat that had become far too familiar lately. Y/N sighed, slipping your guns into their holsters before facing her.)
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Deadshot: What do you want, Yang?
(She grinned at Y/N, that wild, untamed look in her eyes. Her golden hair glowed like fire under the harsh lights, and her lilac eyes sparkled with something—something dangerous.)
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Yang: Just checking on you. You've been spending a lot of time here alone.
Deadshot: (crosses arms) I train alone, that's what I do.
Yang: (grins) I know. But I can't help but notice how much time you've been spending away from me lately.
(Her tone was light, playful even, but there was something beneath it. Something darker. Y/N could see it in the way her eyes didn't leave your face, the way her smile never quite reached them. She was watching Y/N, waiting for something.)
Deadshot: I've been busy.
(Y/N's screamed to be ready for a fight. Yang wasn't just Y/N's partner in the field. She was more than that. Or at least, she used to be. Lately, things had changed. Y/N had noticed the way she clung to him after missions, the way her gaze lingered too long. How she seemed to know his every move before he made it. It wasn't normal. It wasn't...right.)
Yang: (softly) I've missed you, y'know. You're always so focused on those targets, but what about me? What about us?
Y/N: (shakes head) Yang, we talked about this. There is no us. We're teammates. Nothing more.
(The words barely left Y/N's mouth before her hand shot out, gripping his arm like a vice. Her strength was terrifying, fingers pressing down with enough force to bruise. Her face twisted, the playful smirk gone, replaced by a cold, possessive glare.)
Yang: (hisses) You don't mean that. You can't mean that.
(Y/N's heartbeat quickened. He knew Yang was strong, but this was something else. Her grip tightened, and the air around Y/N seemed to hum with tension.)
Deadshot: I do. Let me go, Yang.
Yang: I can't let you go. I won't. You're mine, Deadshot. I've watched you for too long, fought beside you too many times. No one else gets to have you. No one else deserves you.
(Y/N's pulse pounded in his ears as her words sank in. This wasn't just infatuation. This was obsession. Pure, burning obsession.)
Deadshot: Yang-
Yang: Shh. You don't have to fight this. You'll see. You'll see that we're meant to be together. And I'll make sure no one ever gets between us.
(Her smile returned, bright and beautiful, but it didn't reach her eyes. Those eyes burned with something terrifying. Something inescapable.)
(And for the first time, standing in front of her, Y/N realized—there was no running from Yang Xiao Long.)
