headset press

13 Reasons Why (Tape 3)

Characters: sister!reader, Dean, Mary, Sam, John, Cas(mentioned), Jody(mentioned), Claire(mentioned), Alex(mentioned)

Warnings: swearing, angst, mention of death

Word count: 3830

Summary: Mary’s tape hits Dean harder than he expected and he starts to see the people he loves in a different light

Series: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Here it was. Tape 3. Ready in the tape player, but Dean just couldn’t bring himself to listen to it… At least not yet.

There were more things that you left behind that he had thought. First of all there were these tapes and how he found out that you left Sam a note. He wasn’t sure when to start reading it, maybe even just looking at your handwriting would have been too heartbreaking for him to see. Even just holding that paper in his hand and knowing that you once held it in your hand was enough to almost make Dean cry. How could he possibly handle reading the letter? The tapes were killing him already, adding more to that would have been too much for him to take in.

He took the tape player with him. It was inside his duffel bag that he had packed ready for the hunt Sam had found them. “You ready to go?” Sam questioned from the passenger seat in the impala.

Dean had been daydreaming this entire time just thinking about the tapes. “Yeah.”

The drive to Tulsa was around 4 to 5 hours long, a car journey that would probably require talking to each other. Dean wasn’t mad at Sam, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak to his brother but everything just felt too tense and awkward after talking about the tapes so much already.

“So, what did you say this hunt was?” Dean questioned after they had been driving for over an hour.

“Well-” Sam started as he pulled out the newspaper from his duffel bag, “-it seems to me like a demon case, but I could be wrong. There’s nothing on here about sulphur so it could be case of ghost possession. But I could be wrong, we’ll see when we get there.“

Dean listened to what Sam said but the words went through one ear and out of the other. He didn’t care about this damn hunt, his mind was on the tapes and he couldn’t stop thinking about them.

“How far are you?” Sam asked. The subject always had to be the tapes, didn’t it?

“Why does it matter? I’m the last one on the tape anyway so I don’t have to pass them on,” Dean replied, keeping his eyes on the road to avoid having to see the judgemental look from his brother.

“Because once you’ve heard them all we can do something about a few of the people on them,” Sam answered as if it was obvious. “Who’s are you up to? Are you on yours?”

“No I’m not on mine!” Dean hissed. He concentrated on the road hard to make sure he looked like he was only focused on driving.

“Then who’s? Have you heard Cas’ tape yet?” Sam questioned which caused Dean to press his foot harshly on the breaks.

“Cas is on the tapes?” He shouted angrily as his look shot to his brother. “Are you fucking kidding me?”’

“Dean, calm-” Sam started to speak but was quickly cut off by Dean’s rage.

“Sammy, I swear if you tell me to calm down.” He shook his head with closed eyes. His voice was steady but angry which was even scarier than when he screamed at Sam.

“Look, I’m sorry, OK?” Sam apologised. “I thought maybe you had listened to a few more.”

“Which tape is Cas’?” Dean asked with his car still pulled over in the middle of an empty highway.

“Ten.”

“Ten?” Dean repeated with a loud voice. “I’m not that far! Why are these tapes so easy for everyone else to listen to? I haven’t even started tape three yet!”

“You’re going slower that everyone else, but it’s only because you care about her,“ Sam concluded.

“What, Cas didn’t?” Dean shot back before starting up the car again. He drove slower this time, he didn’t wanna pull over again when driving so fast.

“Of course he did. He still does, but not many people on the tapes did. Only a few of you cared,” Sam explained. “People like you, and Cas. But then there’s Crowley.”

“Crowley’s a dead man,” Dean snapped. “I mean it, when I see him next I’m gonna torture him for months and then drive Ruby’s knife into his heart so hard that not even Hell will be able to save him from what’s coming.”

“Crowley isn’t the only one you’re going to hate after listening to them,” Sam admitted with a quiet voice. “I know that you’re angry at dad.”

“Angry at him, yes,” Dean repeated, “hate him? No.”

“Look, we know everyone on these tapes and we care about most of them,” Sam explained. “It’s gonna be hard to hear them, because they will change the way you see people. Especially this one.“

“Especially this one? What the hell does that mean?!” Dean demanded.

“I told you, you just have to listen to the-”

“Wait a second,” Dean said, coming to a sudden realisation. “Are these tapes the reason you’re all avoiding going to Jody’s?”

Sam swallowed thickly. He had already said too much by saying that Cas was on the tapes.

“Is Jody on the tapes?!” Dean demanded. “Or… Is it Claire? Or Alex?”

“You need to stop asking questions, listen to the tapes,” Sam finished. No matter what was said now Sam would have ignored him so Dean just didn’t bother to reply.

His thoughts for the rest of the drive were on Jody. It couldn’t be her on the tapes, it must have been Claire or Alex. Maybe it was Claire and Alex… You always did have a bumpy relationship with the two girls. Dean always guessed it was because you were all the same age, but maybe there was more to the story.

Before Dean knew it, they had arrived at the motel and checked in. He wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing but it was such a natural occurrence it didn’t take much thought.

Once they were checked in they went to the house where the victim had died to ask his wife a few questions. They knocked at the door and were greeted by a woman with tears still streaming down her face.

“I’m Agent Stills, this is Agent Collins,” Sam spoke professionally. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Of course,” she sniffled as she invited them in.

They sat on the couch opposite her and began to ask the usual questions. The funny smells, cold spots, strange noises and all that. She did say it felt a little chilly when she arrived home. She was at the hospital that day having another pregnancy scan because she was over the due date.

Sam and Dean thought how heartbreaking that must have been for her, having her husband die just before she had their baby.

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Sam Finished. He passed her his card and told her to call if she had anything else to tell them. Once they were done talking to the wife of the victim, they headed back to the motel.

Dean sat on his bed with his duffel bag on Sam’s bed. He just stared at it knowing that those damn tapes were inside there, ready to be listened to. Sam sat at the table on his laptop doing research for the case. “Dean,” he said, but Dean didn’t answer.

“Hey!” Sam repeated as he threw a screwed up piece of newspaper at his brother. “What are you thinking about?”

“What do you think?” Dean replied without moving his eyes away from the bag.

Sam sighed, “I’m gonna swing by the diner, wanna come with?”

“I think I’ll stay here,” Dean snapped. Once again, his eyes never left the bag. Sam said something before leaving but Dean ignored him just like he had been for most of the day. He couldn’t be bothered to listen to what he had to say, all that mattered was the tapes.

And he repeated it once again, just like a mantra. Pick up the tapes, but the headset on, press play. Your cold voice spoke through the headphones and into Dean’s ears.

“I never realised how much a persons life could be affected just by the opinion of another,” you said to start off the tape. “Sure, there’s that saying that ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me’, but seriously… Words tear our brains apart. Broken bones are just a physical pain that can pass, but our emotions and the way people make us feel stays with us forever.”

* * *

Three days had passed since your mother had died and you hadn’t even seen John or Mary. After you left they took off on the hunt you were looking at in the newspaper and left Sam and Dean behind which meant only they showed up when you called.

When they took you back to the bunker you started to question things in your mind. Dean was 38 and Sam was 34, they were old enough to look after you, so why did they have to live with John? Why couldn’t they kick John and Mary out of the bunker? You knew they were so excited because your dad was back and their mom was back too- but were they really needed?

John and Mary were planning on coming back to the bunker again, still unaware that you had returned. Sam and Dean had no idea how to tell them what had happened so they just waited for them to return.

Your brothers were always so kind to you. As soon as you returned to the bunker they made sure you were ok, they took you to your room to make sure you got some sleep and enough food and water when you woke up. And as annoying as it got, they constantly explained to you how hard this life was and how hard things can be, and that if you really wanted to they could send you to live with a woman they knew called Jody. She had two other girls staying with her, Claire and Alex, and she set them both up at school.

Their offers were kind, they didn’t care about what they wanted, they just wanted you to be happy.

It was around 4pm when John and Mary came home to the bunker. You sat in the library and impatiently waited for them to notice you. You were worried to say the least, the last time you saw John things got really bad. His words hurt you, they would stay with you until the day you died.

* * *

“Hey,” Sam said as he walked through the door with a takeout burger in a box for Dean. “I got you some food.”

Dean paused the tape to listen to his brother. He took it back off again, it was still so hard to listen to.

Sam threw the box to Dean, sat at the table and opened up his laptop. “I’m gonna do some research on the case and this town, can you check out some lore?“

“Sure,” Dean nodded before pulling an old book out to see if any of the descriptions matched the deaths of the victims that had lived in that house over the years. They all died exactly the same way so there must have been some kind of explanation. He ate his burger within minutes, just like he always did. Everything felt like such a rush unless it was hunting.

Hours and hours had passed before they finally came to the conclusion that it was a Pontianak. It was some kind of ghost that died when they were pregnant and went after men with pregnant wives.

The case was all a bit strange, but nonetheless, it was a case. People were dying and it was their job to save them.

Thinking that way broke Dean’s heart because there was only one persons life that he wanted to save… But it was too late for that.

* * *

John and Mary looked at you as they passed Sam and Dean. “Y/N?” John asked. He didn’t seem angry, but not exactly happy either.

“We didn’t want to worry you while you and mom were hunting,” Dean began to explain. “But something bad happened… Y/N’s mom was murdered.”

“What?” Mary gasped. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

Mary spoke softly to you as she took a seat next to you and rested her hand on your shoulder. “What happened? Did you see anything?”

“No,” you lied with a shake of your head. “She just, I got home and she was dead. The demon attacked me but I didn’t get a good look, it all happened so fast.”

“So, are you moving back here?” John asked.

“I know you don’t want me here,” you looked down. “After what you said-”

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I’m sorry that I sent you away,” he apologised. It wasn’t enough that he was sorry for sending you away; you knew that he didn’t love you the same amount that he loved Sam and Dean and that telling you to leave didn’t affect him.

“Sam suggested me going to live with Jody,” you replied as you wiped your tear away quickly. He already thought you weren’t as strong as the rest of them, but you couldn’t show weakness, even if it was one of the hardest moments you ever had to go through.

“I think that’s a great idea,” John agreed. Now you were sure that he meant what he said when he told you to leave. He just wanted to be kind to you right now because you were in pain. For a second, you thought that maybe he was sending you away to protect you, but the thought was quickly pushed to the side when you remembered how angry he was towards you when he kicked you out of the motel.

“Oh, I don’t know if I want to,” you admitted. “I mean, I want to stop the world from having to deal with deaths because of monsters. I know I can never get mine back but I could stop people from losing their mothers and that’s enough for me. I want to continue hunting,” you spoke with a strong voice as you stood from your chair. “You’re all good hunters, you can teach me.”

Dean smiled. He loved seeing this side of you, you took charge and told them what was happening. No more crap about, ‘maybe next time’ or ‘you need a different life’. If you wanted a different life you would have taken it but this was your decision. Not John’s or Mary’s or Sam’s or Dean’s. It was time for you to make your own decisions.

* * *

Sam and Dean decided to check the house out at night. The woman had gone into hospital to give birth and the boys wanted to go back to the house and kill the Pontianak. They figured the house being empty would be a good opportunity to get the job done.

Dean went inside first, his flashlight stopped working the second he set foot in the living room. From their research they knew who the Pontianak was, they just didn’t know where she was buried. The Pontianak was once a woman called Jane White that lived in the house hundreds of years ago. They figured there would be something that would tell them where she was buried.

* * *

A few months had passed since you moved back into the bunker and things were going well. John seemed to adapt to you being around and although you still knew he didn’t like you, it was something you had to move past.

You sometimes had those moments where you would share a father/daughter bond, and in those times you felt happy. But afterwards you would just remember what it was really like and that you just had to keep a work relationship.

The boys were still the boys. Very loving and very protective, but you could also mess around, laugh and actually have some kind of relationship with them. There were a few snappy moments here and there but apart from that things were fine. They were going great.

But as soon as things got better, they got worse once again.

* * *

Sam checked down in the basement for clues while Dean stayed in the living room and waited for her to show. He put salt on all the windows and doors.

He felt a sudden chill as she appeared in the living room

“Dean,” Sam shouted up the stairs. “She’s buried in the basement, I just have to break through this wall.”

“Hurry, Sammy,” Dean replied as he picked up his gun and shot the Pontianak with rock salt.

The hunt was fairly simple. Sam burned the body, the spirit was gone and no one else had to die. The next day they packed up their things, got in the impala and drove off back home to the bunker.

The hunt wasn’t enough for Dean. He really wanted something he could stab, shoot, fight or punch. Dean needed to let go of all his rage and hunting seemed like the only way… He needed something bigger than this.

Sam was still tired on the way home and ended up falling asleep, so Dean continued with the tape while he was driving.

* * *

It was around 9AM on a Monday morning when you came into the bunker kitchen. You heard yelling on your way down and wondered what the hell was going on. No one had argued for a while, maybe it was just something that needed to happen.

“She has to go!” You heard John shout. You felt a twinge of panic in your stomach as he spoke, you really thought things between you and John were getting better.

“I thought you were past this, dad!” Sam yelled. “Christ, what is your problem?”

“Your mom doesn’t want her here either. It makes her uncomfortable to know that Y/N’s my child but not hers,” John revealed.

* * *

“Welcome to your tape, Mary.”

Dean, once again, was shocked by what he had heard on this tape. Mary was involved? She was uncomfortable with you living with them? Dean always thought that Mary loved you like the daughter she never had. He always thought that, to her, you were one of the Winchesters. That was another misjudgment he had made about his family. Where do their loyalties lie? Can he really trust them?

* * *

You didn’t want to hear anymore, so you stepped into the kitchen. Sam’s eyes shot to you and John followed. “Y/N…” John spoke.

“Thank you for being honest,” you simply replied. “I’m glad I know where we stand. John.”

“Wait,” he tried to explain but you had already wondered off. This was all probably just a misunderstanding. Maybe Mary always wanted a daughter and she was upset that you weren’t really hers. She was such a kind woman from what you knew, she comforted you when you lost your mom and treated you so well. You wanted to make her feel like she didn’t have to be uncomfortable with you.

“Mary,” you smiled as you stepped into the library.

“Oh,” she replied with tense shoulders. “Hi, Y/N.”

“So, listen. John told me that you feel uncomfortable with me around because I’m not your daughter,” you said, getting straight to the point. You folded your arms and Mary looked shocked at your words. “I’m not mad. But Mary, I see you like a mother. You’re not just Sam and Dean’s mom, you’re mine too.”

You stood there for a second and waited for her reaction. You didn’t know what to expect yet what she did still surprised you. She laughed.

“Oh, Y/N,” she continued to laugh. “You think I want you to be my daughter?”

“What?” You questioned as you unfolded your arms and dropped them to your sides. “Mary-”

“Thank you for that, I really needed that,” she replied with her final laugh. “You see, I’m not uncomfortable with you because I wish you were my daughter. I’m uncomfortable to know that you are John’s mistake. He didn’t love your mother… He only slept with her because I was dead.”

Her words hit you. You never expected her to say anything like this. You wanted to reply but you were frozen in shock.

“So,” she continued as she stood up and spoke so close to your face that you could feel her breath. “Sam and Dean are my children and John is my husband. I don’t need you coming in and messing up my family. You can stay, I can’t make you go, but don’t think for a second that you are my daughter, you never will be. You’d be better off dead.”

* * *

“I don’t remember everything that you said, but a lot of it stayed with me. I remember you saying that I’m not a really Winchester and that I messed up your family. I remember you calling me ‘John’s mistake’. But the thing that hurt me most was when you said that I’m not your daughter and I never will be, that I would be better off dead.”

If only there was a way to explain how angry Dean was. How could Mary say that to you? How could she make you feel so worthless? To tell you that you were better off dead could have been the first thing to give you the idea that death was an option.

“My message in this, ladies and gentlemen, is to be careful what you say to people. To you it may seem like you’re just getting your point across, but to the person on the other end it could quite literally feel like the end of their world. Mary, I want you to know how badly that scarred me, how much it hurt to know that a few months after I lost my real mother, the closest thing I had to one didn’t love me. You never wanted me, and that’s when I began to feel like I didn’t belong anymore.”

That was it. The end of tape 3. This changed the way Dean felt about everyone on there. He was furious with his dad, he was ready to kill Crowley, and when he next say Mary- well, he’s not going to keep his feelings to himself.

It seemed so unlike Mary to say anything like that. There must have been a reason. Something must have happened to cause her to act that way. But that didn’t matter to Dean, all he knew was that she said it and it was way out of line.

But, then again, she should have thought about that before she became one of the reasons why.

|All Cause of the Rush|~ONESHOT

GROUP: MONSTA X

GENRE: Smut, Action

LENGTH: 5.6K

I stood in the middle of a crowded room, barely listening the man in front of me drone on and on about his various stocks and the great success of the company he inherited from his father. He had to be in his late 20s, maybe early 30’s, definitely older than me but more childish by far.  All he could do was go on and on about his accomplishments, boasting in front of the lady on his arm, in hopes of impressing her. What he didn’t notice was that the little gold digger on his arm was eyeing me like a piece of meat from the moment I began speaking to her insufferable partner. I heard a voice crackle through the headset, although I was barely able to pick it up due to most of my attention being on the man in front of me.

“Excuse me Mr. Kim” I interrupted in my most polite voice.

He raised an eyebrow, signalling for me to continue.

“My speech for the banquet is up next and I would hate to miss it. Shall we continue this later?”.

He nodded eagerly, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“Your name honey, we didn’t catch it?” the woman on his arm said in a very high pitched tone.

I gave a small smirk, accompanied with a small bow even though personally, I detested the high class women I came across.

“Wonho, darling”.

She giggled while I straightened my spine, giving a curt nod to the man before moving towards the grand stairs of the banquet hall.

“Hope to see you around!” She called to my retreating form.

I turned my head, giving her a quick wink before I continued my journey toward the grand staircase. When I was sure everyone was preoccupied with the frivolous endeavours of wealthy life, I made my way to the hallway leading to a back staircase. I pressed the headset into my ear, making sure I could hear clearly while dropping all polite mannerisms.

“What?” I harshly whispered into the receiver.

“Police are coming. Hyungs, we gotta go”.

Keep reading

Home (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Request: Hi lovely! Can I request some happy fluffy Bucky cuddles? Like he’s coming back from a mission and just collapses on her and aggressively cuddles her and makes grumpy noises when she tries to move and she’s giggling and he’s just so huge and gentle and warm?

Requested By: Anonymous

Word Count: 960

Warnings: Major Fluff (because you might die from fluff overload) 

A/N: Ahhhh this request was sooo cute! I love Bucky so much, especially when it is fluffy Bucky! I hope you like it, because I loved writing it. To the one anon that gave me the tip of including the “continue reading” thing, I put it in here but when I tried to re-read it, it wouldn’t work. So, I just took it out. Other than that, enjoy!

Originally posted by sebastianobrien

“HQ to quinjet five, what’s your status?” The radio sounds, crackling when the voice cuts out. Stretching for the head set with one hand on the controls, Steve places the headset over his ears. 

Pressing the button on the control system, Steve hears the familiar ring of the headset turning on. “This is quinjet five to HQ, we are almost back to HQ, just a few more hours of flying. Right now we are right over Texas, do you copy?”

“Copy that, five. See you in a few hours.” And with that, it’s radio silence. Turning on auto pilot, Steve makes his way back into the quinjet. Resting against the wall, he watches his best friend filling out the mission report.

“You know,” Bucky starts, looking up from the paper work, “It’s rude to stare, punk.”

“It’s rude to not keep your pal company, jerk,” Steve retorts, sitting down next to Bucky. Groaning, he feels his bones crack as he relaxes.

Sighing, Bucky looks up at Steve. “Sorry, I’m just extremely tired and I just want to get back home to (Y/N). It’s been three weeks since I last saw her, and I’m just getting anxious. I miss her so much.”

Smiling, Steve claps his hand on his best friends shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. (Y/N) misses you too, you know it. I’m sure she will be right there when we land, alright?”

“Alright,” Bucky says smiling. “Lets just go home. I’m sick of this quinjet.”

“Me too, pal, me too.”


Walking down the landing platform, Bucky smiles when he sees the familiar glow of the facility. It was three in the morning when they landed, and all Bucky wanted to do was see you. Trudging through the facility, Bucky almost cries from happiness when he sees your shared room door cracked open, letting a flood of warm light into the hallway. She’s still up, Bucky thinks with a smile. Pushing the door open, Bucky sees you laying on your shared bed, reading a book. Engrossed in your book, you don’t even realize that Bucky has walked in yet. 

“Hey, Doll,” Bucky breathes out, smiling with relief at finally being home. Head shooting up, your eyes go wide when you see your Bucky standing in the doorway, smiling at you.

“Bucky!” You exclaim, tossing away your forgotten book. Scrambling out of your bed, you fling yourself at Bucky, causing him to laugh as he stumbles just a bit. Arms encircling you, Bucky buries his face into your neck, breathing in the familiar scent of home. Pulling back, you look up at Bucky, eyes full of adoration, causing him to smile even more. 

“God, I missed you,” He breathes out, grabbing your face with his hands, pulling you to him. Placing his lips on yours, he almost moans at how great it feels to finally be kissing you again. Arms once again wrapping around you, you feel him gently tugging you up, telling you to jump. Following his lead, you jump up, legs encircling around his waist. Never breaking the kiss, Bucky drops you onto your shared bed, causing you to laugh when you bounce up and down on the bed. Kicking his shoes off, he crawls up onto the bed next to you.

Pulling his face close to yours once more, you gently kiss him, loving the feeling of his lips on yours. Sighing when he pulls away, you feel him pull you into his chest. 

“I’m never letting you go,” He sighs, smiling. “I hope you know that.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” You say smiling, snuggling into his chest. The two of you lay there, murmuring sweet nothings to each other, refusing to fall asleep, afraid that they would miss what the other was saying. 

“Hey Buck?” You ask, gently carding your fingers through his hair, untangling all of the knots in them.

“Hmm?” He mumbles, clutching you tighter while burying his face into your stomach.

“Can I get up? I have to really pee,” You say, trying to squirm out from under him. Feeling his arms around you tighten even more, he picks up his head from your stomach to look at you.

“No, I told you that I wasn’t letting you go.”

“Buck, seriously,” You start, trying to pry his arms from around your body, which only led him to hold you tighter. “Buck!”

“I don’t want to let you go,” He mumbles. Sighing, you run your fingers through his hair again. 

“You won’t have to,” You reply, continuing the soothing motions. “Just let me get up real quick, and then we can go back to cuddling, okay?”

“Okay,” He mumbles, releasing you from his grip. Quickly running to the bathroom, you soon return in a couple of seconds. Crawling back into bed, Bucky once again pulls you into his arms. “I’m so glad to be home,” He sighs, placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Me too, Buck. Me too,” You sigh out, snuggling farther into his neck. This time, Bucky is the one to gently card his fingers through your hair. 

“I love you so much, Doll,” Bucky says, pulling you back away from him so that he can look into your eyes. Smiling at him, you gently brush away a strand of hair that has fallen into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“I love you too, Buck,” You say with a smile, gently pulling you down to catch his lips once more. Pulling away, the two of you blissfully fall asleep, tangled up in each other. Getting the first real sleep that the two of you had in the past three weeks, glad that you were with the other. Because to him, you were his home; and to you, Bucky was yours.

Silent Witness

Cassandra’s case came to me in a discreet, padded envelope delivered right to my door. I’d been expecting it for days after I got a call from Detective Smitty requesting my transcription services. A brief note had been included, telling me that Smitty, a ten year old girl, and her court appointed caregiver were present, that it was a child abuse case, and that they needed a copy of my transcription by the end of the week.

Nothing really out of the ordinary when it came to my police files. I’d been freelancing for the local PD and state agencies for so long that they didn’t feel it necessary to give me any more guidance or instruction than that.

I plugged in the USB stick containing the interview’s audio recording and opened up my software. It was a little over forty five minutes, fairly short, but unsurprising when a kid was involved, and I positioned my hands over my keyboard and my foot over the pedal that allowed me to start, pause, and rewind the software. I allowed myself a moment, just one, to brace for whatever I was about to hear. Child abuse cases, especially when told directly by the victims, were always the hardest.

Keep reading

the voice dies at the end

A phone rings in Arkham Asylum. The guard on duty picks it up without looking.

“Yeah?“ 

“Oh, uh.” The voice on the other end sounds strangely high. Nervous. 

The guard sits up in her chair, exhaustion and boredom draining away. 

“Yes?” she asks, impatient, when the voice doesn’t continue. 

“Uh, the Joker…?" 

The guard is on her feet in an instant, signaling someone to replace her at the control center and another guard to tail her. "What’s happened?" 

"No! I mean, it—” The voice clears its throat. When it speaks again, it’s even, composed. Falsely so. “I want to speak with the Joker." 

The guard stops. Behind her, the second guard stops, too, sending her a confused look. She holds up a hand. 

"You want to speak with the Joker?” she says, just to make sure. The second guard stiffens when he hears. She ignores him. 

It’s surprising, of course, but they have been trained for this. There are protocols. “Usually just crazy fans,” she remembers the warden scoffing. “Delusional. Somehow they think that monster actually cares for them, or is some kind of symbol for their cause. Pfft! Joker’d sooner kill ‘em than be their figurehead." 

According to protocol, the guard’s supposed to get them, whoever it is, off the phone—never hang up on them herself, lest she risk encouraging them—and then, after, write an incident report. 

But then the voice says, just shy of awkward, "Yes, I want to speak with him about taking this country back! Making it better—great—again? You know? About giving back the voices that have been taken from us. It’s just not what it used to be, you know? All those people—those… Well, I’d like to speak with him. He’ll understand." 

At first, the guard herself doesn’t understand. But then she gets it. Those people, said like a curse. Her blood boils. Surreptitiously, she covers the receiver with her hand and says to the second guard, "Get me a tap on this phone. We need to hear and record everything." 

"Right,” he says, jolting. He still looks confused but he runs back to control all the same. 

To the voice, the guard says, as calmly as she can, “I’ll put you right through." 

There’s a stunned silence. Then: "Really?" 

"Yes, really,” she says, continuing on past the triple-locked doors into the high-security ward. 

“Wow.” Wondrous disbelief. 

Her hand tightens around the phone. 

She focuses on keeping her breath even, her gait steady. No need to alarm anyone. She waves her clearance at the ward guards and walks through the six sets of pressurized security doors. It’s not a long hallway, bordered at the sides by cell doors, but she’s still morbidly glad the cells are mostly vacant; it saves her the usual jeering as she walks down to the door at the end of the hall. 

“My, my,” calls a voice that sends a chill of slime down her spine. Behind six inches of bulletproof glass, the Joker beams out at her. She tries not to shudder. He stands, rocking on his heels. “What do we have here?" 

His voice is sweet, sickly so. The guard hates it. 

"You have a call.” She keeps her face blank, emotionless. 

Moi? A call? Oh goody! I hope it’s a friend.“ 

"Maybe." 

The Joker grins. 

Down the hall, the security door buzzes, and the second guard comes running, trailing two more guards and a nurse with a tranquilizer gun behind him. Extra security, she thinks.

"Here,” the second guard pants. He hands her the tap and recorder, a rectangular wiry mess. She hooks it into the phone without a word, locking it into place, and gives the recorder back to the second guard. Startled, he puts the headset on and presses record. He will be the only one able to hear the conversation in real-time.

She brings the phone back to her ear. “You still there?" 

"Y-yes.” The voice sounds breathless, giddy with anticipation. 

“Alright.” And the guard opens the cubby door and slides the phone into the cell.

The Joker doesn’t pick it up right away. Instead, he stares at her, from behind the glass. She tries not to flinch. The Joker’s still smiling. He’s always smiling. Beside her, the second guard twitches, and the nurse hefts the tranq gun nervously. 

The Joker giggles and picks up the phone, turning himself profile and sing-songing, “Hellooooooo?” After a pause, “Right, yup, yeah, that’s me! Clown Prince of Crime, at your service.” And then he’s quiet, listening.

The guard cannot hear what’s being said. But she sees the way, imperceptibly, by fractions, the Joker begins to frown. 

Keep reading

The Judge

Originally posted by akamatthewmurdock

Tony stark imagine where (like at the end in CA civil war when he’s hurt) you find him and help him and he’s really hurt?
For Anon
Words: 2,246


Tony Stark had been raised in the spot light and luckily fame suited him. When life forced his hand to make the suit to ensure his survival, he thrived and his fame grew more. With reluctance on Fury’s part, Tony was eventually allowed to join the Avengers where he met you. Initially, to Tony, you had just been someone to prove wrong, you were an agent and a close friend of both Romanov and Barton and to put it plainly, you simply couldn’t be bothered to deal with the super-ego that was Tony Stark. Dealing with a rich boy playing superhero held no appeal for you, no matter the origin or original need for the suit.

And he hated it.

People either loved him or loathed him but nobody just ignored Tony Stark and so what started as stubborn attention seeking on his part slowly developed into a need for your approval. After a while you grew warmer to his presence and when he and Pepper called things a day, amicably for the most part, he showered you with affection.

Thankfully, as you were wondering why your new friend had become so needy, Barton took pity on you and explained that Tony was ‘pursing you’ and after a girl’s night with Natasha and Clint’s wife, you decided you weren’t completely against the idea.

By the time the pair of you had gotten your heads together and decided to try going on a date the Avengers were a household name and Tony Stark was a name on everybody’s lips, his fame had peaked and he was about to realise how deadly fame could be.

When Tony was first called out over a network broadcast by a guy calling himself The Judge, Tony had laughed during the press conference.
“I don’t know which court he thinks that he’s ruling the guy is clearly a whack job.” Tony laughed to the cameras.
You stood to the back of the room with Clint, Nat and Steve. Steve nudged you and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Jarvis is trying to find an address for the broadcast.”
“Let’s hope that we can keep Tony behaving himself until then.” Nat mused.
“This is Stark that we’re talking about.” Clint sniggered.
“Hey that’s Y/N’s almost boyfriend that you’re badmouthing.” Nat argued.
“Hard to deny it though.” You smirked as did your friends.

You focused back into the conference as Tony laughed and leaned down into a reports mic.
“The guy couldn’t even choose a decent name. You can tell him from me: anytime, anyplace.” He boasted as the sea of reported erupted in flashes of photography.
You sighed and leaned back against the wall, “So much for keeping him out of trouble.”
Steve patted your shoulder and Clint gave you a fake sympathetic smile, “Come on, the attitude problem is at least 40% of why you like him.”
Crossing your arms you watched Tony lapping up the attention and moulding the reporter’s opinions in the way that only he could, “About 30%.” You answered Clint who laughed.

The laughing stopped soon.

The Judge was a lot more resourceful then any of you could have guessed and he had twice now had Tony attacked in public by hired assassins. Luckily Tony always had a version of his suit on him since its systems helped him breath through his panic attacks and the second time you had been on your way to meet Tony when you had seen Iron Man throwing people around in the middle of the road and hit two of the assailants with your truck.

He’d given you a high-five mid battle for that one.

But that was the last straw and you decided to it was time for Tony to go into lockdown and after a blinding row where you threatened to run him over too, he agreed to go along with it – for now.

And he did really mean too, he spent three whole days in doors and spending them in bed with you or downstairs in his lab with Bruce helped him take his mind off of the fact that he was basically grounded and that he was sure Steve, with his perfect fucking face, was rubbing it in.

But then the letters came.

They were unassuming normal envelopes and usually he’d ignore all post and have it sent through to Pepper’s assistants to open but these didn’t have the company address on, they simply had ‘Tony Stark’ scrawled across them.
Out of sheer boredom he stuck his finger under the lip of the envelope and ripped it open and pulled out the contents. There was no letter only a photograph of you carrying a stack of pizzas down the street that was carrying a stack of other boxes full of side dishes.

Tony’s brow furrowed and he leaned forward in his chair to study the photo because dropping it on the desk and opening another envelop.
It was a photo of you and Nat at the coffee shop down the street.

He opened another.
A photo of you and Tony hiding out on the balcony during one of his fancy business parties.

Another.
You fixing Tony’s tie.

Another.
You doing the grocery shopping with Clint.

Tony swallowed hard, his heart already thumping. The last photo was from today, you’d come down to the lab in that outfit to ask if he needed anything because you were going to shop with Clint.
He opened the last envelope and pulled out a crumbled notepad page with a cell phone number scrawled across it.
He felt so dizzy that he could barely punch the numbers into his phone. He held his ear to his phone, he knew that he was about to get his time and place. The phone clicked as though someone had answered and his breath hitched but when no one spoke Tony was overcome with rage, “Listen Judge or whatever bullshit name you decided to call yourself, your problem is with me not her. You got that? You leave her out of this.” He snarled.

“I’m watching her right now as a matter of fact,” The male voice answering was steady and unaffected by Tony’s outburst, “I can see why you were jealous of her and Clint’s friendship but I’m sorry to say she seems to be smitten with you. Can’t see why for the life of me, the poor girl.”
“Leave her out of this, it’s me you have a problem with.” Tony pleaded.
The voice on the other side let out a humoured breath, “You don’t get to make that call and unless you follow what I say to the letter then it will be her problem, Mr. Stark.”

Pissed, mad, furious, livid.

None of them came close to describing just how fucked off you were with Tony right now. Okay so you hadn’t expected him to go along with the whole ‘grounded’ thing for as long as he had but flying off on his own to go fight some super villain.

Well, you were gonna kick his ass.

He hadn’t left you a note or anything, you’d simply come down to the lab to bring him his damn blueberries and found creepy photographs of yourself hidden under his trash. Looking in weird places for clues was a shield thing. Bruce tried to access JAVIS for you for any indication of what could have happened and, after some probing, it seemed that JAVIS must have been busy being used within Tony’s suit and Bruce was able to get you security footage of Tony’s phone call.

You wanted to punch the stupid man in his stupid beautiful face but you knew that if you’d been presented with the same situation then you probably could have took off on your own to try and fix it as well.
Why this Judge guy would have chosen a mountain for a showdown was beyond you but if you had to guess it would have been because of the difficultly that it gave Clint and Nat when trying to land the carrier.
Steve and Thor jumped out before you’d even landed and just as it touched down you were skidding down the ramp and towards the sign of battle. You made it to the fight just as Thor caught an injured Iron Man mid-flight and Steve punched his assailant off into the trees. He was a monster of man, even the giant forms of Thor and Steve were dwarfed by this man.

He couldn’t be human.

But you didn’t care right now, Thor set Tony down as you skidded to kneel next to him before leaving to help Steve, God knows that he’d need it. Your hands found the back of his helmet instantly and lifted the release switch.
The mask withdrew and you could see his face. His eyes stayed close and you leaned down to his face and waited, terrified, until a soft breath escaped his lips and tickled your cheek. Your relief came out as a loud groan as you leaned down and kissed his nose, his cheeks and his forehead in pure happiness.
“JARVIS, can you give me a run down?” You asked loudly hoping that somehow Tony’s programming would have allowed for something like this.
Thankfully, he had.
“Mr Stark’s breathing is laboured and he’s suffered an abdominal wound that’s caused an internal haemorrhage.” The words made you pale and you pressed your headset, “Did you guys hear that? Clint, Nat we have to get him out of here now.”
Gunfire answered you in your ear before Clint’s shouting, “Try to get him comfy Y/N, we can’t leave Thor and Steve with this guy. He’s kicking our asses.”
You hissed in anger and focused back on Tony, his eyes where still closed but he tried to move his hand. You caught it and whispered down, “Shh, don’t move Tony. Don’t panic, I’m here.”
“Y/N.” He croaked out and it looked as though he was trying to open his eyes but was too fatigued, “You gotta get out of here, he’s gonna-”

“I don’t give a shit,” You hissed, your hands on his cheeks, “I’m not going anywhere until you’re okay.”

With JARVIS’ help you navigated Tony into a position that would be more comfortable for him but your head snapped up at the sound of engines and an almighty roar. The Hulk slammed down with both feet right before you with War Machine landing beside him.

“Cavalry’s here. Someone help Y/N get Tony outta here.” Rhodes ordered.
“Clint go with Y/N, we’ll need Nat to help settle down the big guy.” Steve told you and then Rhodes and The Hulk where gone soon to be replaced by Clint who helped you move Tony and his ridiculously heavy suit back to the carrier with Clint joking all the while about how he always had to come and save Tony’s ass. He was trying to cheer you up but right now all you wanted to do was get Tony somewhere safe and to a decent doctor.
He came around slightly on the flight back, his hand finding yours and he breathed harshly, “Don’t want surgery.”
You gave him a soft smile, “Tony you need it, I’m sorry.”
“No.” He spat out, his dark eyes opening and focusing on you. Pleading for you to understand and you did.

You put your hand on his cheek, held his gaze and gave him a lovely smile before leaning down to whisper, “I know you’re scared but you’re safe. You’re not back in the cave and they won’t touch the Arc reactor. They’re going to help you. I promise you that you’re safe, I’m not going to ever let anyone hurt you like that I promise.”
His eyes welled but he stared at you and you whispered your promise again.

—-

Tony freaked out when he woke up but you’d seen it coming so you were sat beside the bed and caught him before he could hurt himself or the doctors. You held him to you and his arms clamped around your body, he pushed his face into the crook of your neck and breathed through his panic.
“You’re safe.” You whispered and moved your hands up slowly to run them through his hair and hmm’d lowly.
“He was going to hurt you. He was goin-” He started to you sshh’d him and hummed lowly to calm him again.
“He’s been apprehended, don’t worry.” You pulled backed to look into his eyes, “Tony you’re on your own any more so you shouldn’t act like it. You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“I’m sorry.” He said simply and though you’d not expected the readiness of his apology you didn’t push it any further and instead helped guide him to lie back down and lay next to him.
“You’re gonna call the doctor in a minute aren’t you?” Tony asked after moment and you didn’t need to look up at him to know that he was pouting.
“Yes and you’re going to be good and take their advice.” You cuddled up to his side, “Because then when you’re better I can kick your ass for being so stupid.”
He let out a breathy laugh and kissed the top of your head, “Sounds fair.”

RvB: Misquoted

Taken from this lovely post.

“I’m not kidding,” Tucker said the morning of, and Church kept laughing. “Hey, asshole! I’m not kidding.”

“Tucker, that’s the most melo-fucking-dramatic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who asked for reassignments.”

“Five years of dealing with you assholes, hell yeah I asked for reassignments.”

“Fuck you, Church. I don’t even care. My ass gets on that plane and I forget you, and this shitty box canyon, and this shitty sham of an army.”

Church clapped him on the shoulder, a grin in his voice, and said, “yeah. You’re welcome, buddy.”


“Goodbye,” South said, quiet. North’s head was in her lap, their weapons discarded behind a stone somewhere. She knew this was over. She had made sure of it. Some part of her wondered if she should take off the helmet and make sure his eyes were closed.

Her secure channel kicked into life, the voice of Recovery Command. “Recovery One is on his way to you.”

She took her hands off the latches. “Copy that. I’m ready.”

Keep reading

Gaming Partners - Tim Drake x Reader

I’m going to make this a domestic!au because it gave me ideas for Tim’s username.

“Redrobin3 look out!” You warn into your headset as you frantically press the left arrow key to move your character out of range of the enemies’ attacks. Your companion quickly follows your actions, sending two fire bolts in the direction of your attackers. Your character attacks as well, brandishing their sword and lunging forward to slay the dark mages. Soon, your computer screen is clear from any and all evil.

“Thanks, you saved me big time,” you heard your gaming partner sigh in relief. “Haha, I guess you could say that I’m your knight in shining armor,” you chuckled at the brilliance of your pun as you checked the bodies of the dead mages for any valuable loot.

“Are you calling me a princess?” He accused, shooting a loud scoff from your headphones. “Maybe,” you replied while your character began to mount a horse. “Maybe not,” you teased. “Maybe I just want to ride off into the sunset with you on this horse,” you said nonchalantly with a small shrug of your shoulders.

“Wow, you really do know how to sweep a guy off of his feet,” Tim gave you a soft chuckle as his mage character mounted a horse next to yours. Unfortunately, the game doesn’t allow two players to ride the same steed. Your silver armor alone is probably heavy enough for the digital horse as it is anyways.

“I’d do anything for you, princess,” you grinned, pressing the top arrow key, allowing your trusty steed to travel forward into the pixelated sunset, Tim trailing slightly behind. “Then why don’t you take off your helmet?” the teenager suggested. Unbeknownst to you, his face was rapidly turning red. He can’t believe that he just said that.

You weren’t too surprised that he’d wanted to know what you looked like. The two of you had been playing with one another for a little over three months, so one of you was bound to ask to see the other’s face at some point. It’s human nature to be curious.

You typed your skype name in the chat box for Tim to see and told him that you’d call him tomorrow at the same time that you usually played together online. Unsurprisingly, when you a saw a notification from skype on the bottom corner of your computer screen, Tim’s username was the same as his gaming name, Redrobin3.

You pressed the power button on your computer, sitting back in your chair as you watched your monitor light up. Today was the day where you’d finally see Tim’s face. You took a deep breath in as you entered your skype log in information, exhaling audibly as you hovered over Tim’s username, quickly pressing the call button.

The line rang for a few seconds before a face appeared on your screen. He was… cute. Really cute. The teen had short, slightly messy black hair with loose strands falling just above two, sparkling robin’s egg blue eyes. His skin was smooth and fair, save for the few pimples dotting his cheeks and jawline, the curse of being a teenager. He offered a nervous, toothy smile lined by a pair of thin, chapped lips. All in all, he was not too bad on the eyes, which you found yourself getting lost in every time that you glanced at him.

You weren’t the only one who was entranced. Tim was mesmerized by the way that your e/c eyes lit up in the low glow of your desk lamp, and the way that your lips curved upwards into a shy smile. “Wow,” he laughed nervously, to which you replied with a small giggle of your own.

Pretty soon, the two of you each wore matching blushes and exchanged shy bouts of laughter until you slowly became more comfortable with one another again. You both would skype everyday whenever you had the chance, and were soon even exchanging numbers and emails. Then, after a few months of chatting until the days turned into nights, you got the idea that you should take a trip together.

(I hope that you liked this, anon, and I’m sorry if the ending seems a little rushed! I’d love to make a part two where they go on a vacation together and meet for the first time. If anyone has ideas for their trip destination, please let me know :) )

Homecoming

There was grey overcast in the skies over the fleet hospital and port. In the main office, Kigiku was currently snoozing at her desk. It had been a long night of filing paperwork. Then with a loud burst, Kirishima crashed into the room. There was a look of concern on her face. 

“Admiral-san….” Kirishima gently poked Kigiku.

There was just a cute groan.

“Admiral-san.” Kirishima said again, this time poking the admiral hard.

Again just a groan.

“Admiral-san! Haya-san posted pictures of you in your underwear on the hall’s walls.”

“H-huh?!?!” Kigiku jumped straight up from her slumber.

“There’s something we need to talk about. Fubuki was helping me look over the sonar and radar systems in the command room. There’s been several blips showing up. We’ve attempted radio contact but they are not responding to anything.” Kirishima said methodically. 

“O-Oh, I see. What did you need me to do?” Kigiku asked.

“We’ll need your permission to fly a few planes. Akagi’s prepared on stand-by for your orders.” Kirishima advised. 

“A-Alright, that sounds reasonable. She has my permission.” Kigiku decided.

Kirishima then closed her eyes and pressed the headset on her ear. “Akagai, this is command, please send out several scouting planes. Let’s see what this unwelcomed guest is.”

“Roger that,  Kirishima-san. Alright, let’s fly.” Akagi responded back. She grabbed four arrows and placed them on her bow. As they unleashed into the air they turned into tiny planes.

Akagi then heard a message from one of the fairies. 

“Bad news…It seems that we have a hostile entering the port. Initial reports seem to suggest that it is moving at a snail’s pace and is dazed.” Akagi reported back.

“What’s the news?” Kigiku asked.

“It’s a hostile but it appears to be wounded or confused.” Kirishima  confirmed.

“I see. Call up Nagato. I’ll need a level head for this.” Kigiku said.

“Nagato-sama….This is Kirishima. We’re currently having a 5.05 Incident. The admiral is requesting your presence in her office. Over.”

Kigiku then stood up and looked out of her window. The skies were starting to rain. Causing the lights of the base to slowly flicker on.

I don’t like this….Why would a single Abyssal come this far inland? This area is too heavily armed for it to even think about attacking by itself…” Kigiku thought as she saw Akagi’s planes flying in the distance.   

#7 - 1D Imagine - Niall Horan - Baby Shot Me Down

You hated this game. You hated how cold you were, even with the thick sensor jacket and headset you had on. You hated how heavy the gun felt in your hands; you knew that you should’ve asked for a smaller one but your pride had stopped you, as usual. But most of all, you absolutely despised the fact that you were sat in a tree, too damn scared to even play properly.

 ”Rainbow Squirrel,” Liam’s muffled voice came through the speaker on your headset. You had no idea why you chose the name Rainbow Squirrel; you didn’t even like squirrels. “Batman, here. Can you hear me?”

 ”Yes, Liam,” you said, annoyance clear in your tone as you spoke into the headset. You pressed the button on the earpiece to allow your voice to go through to him. “I can hear you. How long left’ till the game finishes?”

 ”Liam? Who’s Liam?”

 You rolled your eyes and chuckled to yourself. “Fine, Batman. What time do we finish?”

 ”When there’s a winner,” he said, his voice crackling through the headset. “There’s only you left on our team and Craic Master left on Team Guinness.”

 ”What?” You were starting to panic, as you comprehended what Liam had just told you. You were the worst player by far and there was no way that you could take on Niall. Your boyfriend was a pro at the game, and he knew it. “I can’t aim for shit, Liam. And I haven’t even been playing properly. I’ve been sitting in a tree for the past two hours, for God’s sake!”

 ”Rainbow Squirrel, you can do this!” Liam shouted into your ear, causing you to wince at the ringing. “Just aim as close as you can to his body and you should at least graze him. Bradford Bad Boy got Westside on his knee of all places, and we all know how shit of an aim he’s got. Anyways, I’ll see you in a bit. Don’t let me down, Rainbow Squirrel! Over and out.”

 ”Liam?” You frantically shouted into your headpiece. You really, really didn’t like this game. “Liam. Are you there? Batman, you piece of shit, I don’t even know how to turn this freaking gun on!”

 Which was very true. In the two hours that you had all been playing, you hadn’t shot even once. You didn’t even know how to get the gun ready. Were you meant to pull this sticky-outy bit back?

 ”Ahh!” You let out a yelp as the gun jolted harshly in your hands. A small red balloon popped out the end and rocketed into the sky, before landing with a splat on the ground and red paint began oozing out; the force of the balloons ejection caused you to lose your footing. You could feel yourself slipping off the branch you were perched on so you desperately grasped onto the trunk of the tree, letting the gun fall out of your hands and land with a clatter onto the ground beneath you. “Shit, shit, shit.”

 You looked down at where the gun landed, contemplating whether you should go down and retrieve it. A loud, obnoxious laugh interrupted your thoughts and you looked around for the source, knowing exactly who it was as you could identify that laugh in your sleep.

 ”Niall?” You shouted into the darkness. You were practically a sitting duck without your gun but you couldn’t bring yourself to climb down and get it, especially not with him so close to you.

 ”Do not tell me you’ve been in that tree for the past two hours, Y/N,” you followed his Irish accent to the bottom a large tree, and there you could make out his silhouette leaning against it. His gun was rested against his shoulder as he looked up at you, an amused smile on his lips.

 ”Niall, this isn’t fair,” you tried to reason with him, showing him your best puppy-dog face. You quickly realised that he probably couldn’t make out your expression as you were in the shade of the tree. “I don’t have a gun and I’m practically cornered up here.”

 ”So, do you want a head start?” You hadn’t thought of it but now that he mentioned it, yes you bloody well would like a head start.

 ”Yes, that’s a good idea,” you nodded enthusiastically, quickly thinking up your getaway plan. “I’ll climb down and get my gun so we’re equals, ok?”

 ”Okay, Y/N,” he nodded in the affirmative. His eyes were fixated on you as you began to climb down, admiring the way your legs stretched and body swiveled until you reached the ground. “Don’t try anything sly.”

 ”Would I ever?” You replied, an innocent expression on your face as you leaned down to pick up your gun. You kept your eyes firmly on his, making sure that he wasn’t going to attack before you had a hold of your weapon.

 As soon as your hand grasped the handle of your gun, Niall straightened into position and pointed his gun at your face. You took hurried steps back, as you copied his stance, your eyes never leaving his.

 ”I’ll give you 30 seconds to run,”

 ”What?” You asked, confused. He was going to let you run?

 ”1, 2, 3…”

 You hurried into action, nearly tripping over a broken branch as you ran into the cluster of trees, the gun bouncing against your thigh. Your heart pounded in your chest as you desperately tried to get as far as you could from him, hoping that the thirty seconds weren’t up.

 Your turned left towards two large trees, hoping that they would conceal you from Niall’s eyes. You wanted to turn to see if he was close -

 ”Ahh!” You let out a scream as you felt an arm curl around your waist. You began to thrash against Niall’s chest as he pulled you into him. His arm tightened against your stomach in a desperate attempt to hold you still, so you began clawing at his hand.

 ”Jesus, Y/N,” He panted in your ear, his breath warm against the back of your neck. You could feel your legs begin to weaken due to the familiar sensation of his body pressed so firmly against your own. “You’re going to draw blood.”

 ”Let me go then,” you continued to thrash against him, causing his grip to slacken. You pulled away from him and tried to get a better grip on your gun.

 Before you knew it, Niall had pinned you down, twisting your body so that your back was flush against the muddy ground, causing your gun to slip out of your hand and land a distance away from you. You felt your breath catch as you realised that he was straddling you, with his gun pointed towards your chest, a sly smirk on his handsome face.

 ”Convince me not to shoot you,” he said to you, his voice low with emotion; you could tell that the position you were both in was having an effect on him.

 You took his reaction to your body in your stride, as you decided to use his hormones against him. You bit your lip seductively, as you arched your back to reach up and hook your arms around his neck. You pulled him closer to you; rubbing the back of his neck as you ran your mouth against his neck, sucking gently. His grip on the gun slackened dramatically.

 ”Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned in your ear, as he desperately tried to control himself. “That’s not fair.”

 You moved your lips from his neck to his ears, and proceeded to nibble on his earlobe. Niall rewarded you with a tortured moan, before dropping the gun at your side and taking your face into his hands, his grip tight.

 You ran your hands from his neck to his face, cradling it softly as you smiled sweetly up at him. Before you knew it, Niall had his lips pressed desperately against your own, a feral groan released from his lips vibrated against your own, as he couldn’t contain his need for you any longer. You pressed your lips into his just as ferociously, opening your mouth slightly to run your tongue along his bottom lip, before sucking it into you mouth and giving it a gentle bite. Niall moved his hands to your thighs, massaging them through the fabric of your jeans as he pulled his lips off yours. He panted against your cheek, his warm breath causing you to squirm against him.

 You ran a hand down his back, scratching gently, while you used your other to locate the gun he had dropped. You grasped the cold handle just as Niall bit down and sucked on the soft spot on your neck, making you arch your back into his body as you moaned into his ear, your eyes screwed shut as his teeth and lips worked on your skin.

 ”Fuuuuck,” you moaned loudly as you hauled the gun up, quickly removing your hand from Niall’s back to pull the trigger.

 ”What the fuck?!” The force of the balloon caused Niall to fall on top of your before he pulled away violently, as a computerized voice made it’s way into your ear, stating that you had won.

 You stood up quickly, pushing Niall off you, as you threw your hands into the air and cheered in victory.

 ”I won, I won, I won!” You chanted, dancing around your boyfriend who rubbed at his back, a scowl on his face. He glanced at the red paint that coated his hands and looked over at you, a sly smirk on his face as he walked over.

 ”Hey, babe?” He said, a faux innocent look on his face.

 ”What you loser-No!”

 Niall wiped the paint onto your cheeks, making sure that you couldn’t move away from his stained hand by gripping you around your waist. You flinched and tried to move your head away, shouting every obscenity you could think of.

 ”I freaking hate you,” you shouted as you tried to pry his hands off your face.

 ”No you don’t,” he smirked sexily down at you as he pulled your body flush against his own, his stained hand moving down to your neck. His eyes were full of lust as he glanced down at your lips. You stopped squirming as you noticed his hot gaze on you. He chuckled softly as he moved his lips towards yours. “Now, where were we?”