"HELP" Hobie Brown X Reader.

I just want to let everyone know that I finished shatter me nd now on the second book and I’m still just as confused as last time !! But everyone keeps saying how my opinion is gonna change nd now I’m just waiting

Guys I’m finally reading Shatter Me and Warner needs to CALM TF DOWN. And Adam is literally the only one that is helping Juliette!!? Why is everyone saying he’s bad!? WARNER IS THE ONE WHOS BAD !! He scares me!!

Thieving Touch (Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader) [Part 1]

Premise: Steven meets you at the museum and thinks you’re normal, but Marc thinks you’re a thief. They’re both right. Sort of.

Will do my best to minimize spoilers from the show as possible. There may be some discussions of mental health problems in the future, but from the reader’s side, not necessarily Steven and Marc’s.

Tagged: @simpforbuckyb​, @gracehorses, @raging-trash-of-mind, @galactic-galabee, @wordacadabra, @lucy-sky

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Warnings: none

Gif Source: oscar-isaac

Steven watched the patrons mill about the museum, wandering up to display cases and reading the placards there. How he wished to be alongside them, telling them the things the placards didn’t say, giving them the knowledge they were missing by only superficially engaging with Egyptian history and its associated pantheon. No one really ever came up to him even to buy the sweets on his counter, and the one or two that did eventually wander to a stop before him weren’t much interested in discussing the finer points of Egyptian mythology.

He still clung to a fragment of hope, however, no matter how often his supervisor, Donna, rejected his attempts to become tour guide. Maybe the next time the board members came into the museum, he could stage something to show them he knew what he was doing. Maybe he could even demonstrate that by going to the marketing department and telling them what they had gotten wrong on the banners.

As he listened to his watch click down to closing time, he gazed out at the diminishing stream of patrons. As he glanced past one of the displays by the Ammit pillar, he paused and turned his attention back.

Keep reading

Saw your ask in community! My idea; reader and Leon having to hunker down in a building during a zombie attack. Don't know if you can work something steamy but can you give it a happy ending?

Thank you silly, I want to kiss your brain this is such a good idea

NSFW !! ↓↓↓

God damn, saving the presidents daughter was more of a daunting task that you imagined. If the freaky castle you were currently trapped in wasn't enough for you and Leon, were also lucky enough to stuck right in the middle of a zombie attack.

Lucky you !!

It didn't help that you were pressed tight against Leon, considering the tiny room you had to cram into was your only option to avoid the flesh eating creatures

It didn't help that you currently had a big fat crush on him, he was just so handsome, so strong. oh how you wanted nothing more than to bite down on one of his bulky biceps as he rutted into you wildly

But that wasn't something you could think about right now, what you needee to focus on was the current dilemma you were trapped in

You anxiously chewed on your bottom lip,

"Leon ! What are we going to do ?!"

You whisper-shouted to him,

"we're gonna have to wait it out"

You let out a muted groan, leaning against him. Your forehead was millimeters from his chest, you were close enough to bury your face in-between his meaty pecs. But you couldn't, not now.

You froze when a blood curdling scream ripped through the area, belonging to one of the zombies currently occupying where you desperately needed to get past.

The last thing you wanted was to lose yourself or your partner to one of those carnivorous freaks. A muffled grunt comes from above you, Leon's large hands gripping your shoulders.

"god, stay still"

His warm breath hitting the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You mumble a quick apology, his sapphire blue eyes piercing into yours in warning.

The room you were in certainly was cramped, you were sandwiches against him, not that you minded. Your hips were pressed dangerously close together against him, face nearly buried in his chest with his hands planted on the wall either side of your head.

"how long are we supposed to wait..?"

"a while."

"how longs 'a while' ?"

Leon doesn't provide you an answer, he darts his smouldering gaze to a gap in the wooden door Infront of the pair of you

"don't we at least need something to pass the time..?"

You speak before shifting to get comfortable, you hear a sharp breath from Leon. His large hands instantly gripping your hips, the warmth seeping through from his palms

"I told you to stay still"

You swore you felt something begin to poke your thigh, you swallowed the lump in your throat of what you thought it could possibly be. You were thankful for the dim lighting that concealed the rosy hue dusting your cheeks.

"sorry.."

You murmured, the beginnings of your next sentence were interrupted;

"fuck it"

You barley had any time to thing before his lips were on yours, pressing your hips tighter against his. You moaned as you felt his cock grow and strain against your thigh.

Fuck

He felt big..

You rutted against him, the fabric of your quickly dampening panties catching against your twitching clit. The grunt he let out did nothing to help.

Your eyes fluttered closed, a rough hand shoving in your hair to keep your lips pinned to his as his tongue swirled around yours.

Your hands blindly searched for his belt, clumsily undoing the buckle with a metallic clink. He groaned when you tugged the zipper down and began to palm at him.

You could barley fully cup him with your hand, it was maddening. The way his cock throbbed against your hand, copious amounts of pre staining the front of this boxers

His hand covers yours, pressing further into your palm and grinding his leaky cock against it.

"shit, I've been dreaming about this, about you. Dreamin' about it for so long"

He growls between kisses before shoving your hand away and pulling your pants down to your knees, pulling a gasp from you.

He wasted no time tugging down his boxers, his fat cock springing free. He fed it into you, inch by every thick, mouth watering inch.

"ohh- Leon"

You moaned lowly, you didn't need any undead hearing you while you were practically living you dream.

You had to bite down on a particularly whiny moan when one of the prominent veins on his cock caught on your walls.

His mouth captured yours as he began to rut into you wildly, his pace was uneven but that didn't matter. The curved shape of him slammed into your g-spot every time his hips where plush against yours.

When Leon pulled back, he had to swallow a deep groan, watching a string of shared drool form between both of your kiss-swollen, reddend lips.

His bulky arms caged you in, your face flush against his bicep as you finally got to do something you dreamed off for so long.

Your teeth sunk into the muscle, making you moan and muffling the string of them that followed.

Warmth exploded in your body, your walls tightening around his cock, still pulsing and twitching inside of you.

"i-i'm gonna-"

"come for me, fucking come"

He panted in your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy and messy as he got closer to his own end

In a silent scream, you soaked his cock. You looked heavenly, eyes rolled back and jaw slack with drool seeping from the corner of your lips.

Leon followed suit, groaning in your ear as he filled you up impossibly full. It was like you were in euphoria. This was perfect.

The air was mixed with both of your hot breaths as you panted for air.

"you think they're gone now..?"

You questioned breathlessly, pressing your forehead against Leon's

He nodded

"yeah, they're gone. It's silent out there now"

After cleaning up and managing to conceal the share passion you pair had, you carried on with your mission: to save Ashley

(you couldn't help the giddy feeling in your stomach every now and then, though"

This man.

SWOON

Pairing: Bob x Reader

Summary: I’m vibing with Bob atm y’all don’t understand the hold this man has on me #Bobfucks

“What was that?” Bob chuckled, trying to take your phone to go back to a photo you had quickly swiped away from.

You had been showing him the work you were doing on your engine and had forgotten about the god-awful photo of your breakfast from a few days ago.

It had been so messy you just had to take a photo of it. An attempt at eggs on toast had turned really wrong and somehow ended with the egg was both burnt and undercooked, sitting atop a very dry looking piece of bread. Not your proudest moment.

Bob was looking at the photo and openly laughing, zooming in where the yolk was still running.

“I’m typically not that bad. God, that really looks like shit doesn’t it.” You said, covering your face in your hands to hide the blush that was creeping up from your neck.

He made a noise that sounded like an attempt at disagreement before ending in a soft “yeah”.

“Hey, how do you take your eggs in the morning? Really fucked up? Yeah, I got you.” You joked, taking your phone back and searching for another picture of your engine.

Bob sat in silence for a while and you thought he was just waiting for you to find the photo before he asked, “How do you take your eggs in the morning?”

Your heart stopped and then ran a mile a minute.

But this was Bob. He probably didn’t realize the implications in the words. Hell, there wasn’t even any real implication there.

You realized he was waiting for a response but your mind was in a million different places, imagining a million different things.

“Over easy.” You managed to reply.

He made a thoughtful noise and smiled. Your heart hurt when he looked at you. He was too damn cute for his own good and you just wanted to protect him.

“How..How you - How do you take your eggs in the morning?” Smooth.

“I prefer oatmeal.” He said with another grin and you felt the intense urge to die right then and there.

This wasn’t fair. He wasn’t fair. How could he be so adorable?

He took off his glasses and you were sure you had died.

Somehow he looked even better without them. It was like a Jekyll and Hyde situation. With his glasses - sweet Bob who couldn’t do more than two shots before passing out - and then without. Without them, he looked like he could have been sculpted from one of the greatest.

He wiped them on a small cloth he had produced from his pocket and put them back on, blinking to adjust.

You realized you were staring and had to pull your eyes away and back to your phone in hopes the thoughts in your head would quiet.

“Do I have something on my face?” He asked, already wiping at his mouth.

“No, no, no! You’re perfect! I mean, you’re face is perfect. Not like that - well, yeah like that, but also like you don’t have any flaws - anything on your face.”

You were so thankful it was just the two of you in the room. Any flirting prowess or sauve you used to have seemed to have gone completely out the window when it came to Bob and if anyone else had seen that, you were sure you’d have to kill them.

He blinked at you, trying to make sense of what you had just said. You could feel the redness overtaking your visage as he opened and then closed his mouth.

“Do you not like me with my glasses?” His voice was small, almost like he was embarrassed. Bless him, of course he would be the one embarrassed when it really should be you.

You violently shook your head. “You just look so different without them! Like, you look really good without them!”

Now it was Bob’s turn to blush. “You think I look good?”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying anything more dumb and nodded.

He slowly removed his glasses and placed them on the table. Your mouth went dry at the sight. He self consciously pushed his hair back and sat up straighter, a small attempt to look good for you.

“I can’t see.” He admitted with a nervous laugh.

Good, you thought, as your hand found it’s place on his cheek, feeling the soft and warm skin beneath. You traced along where the frames should have been and back to his ear.

His breath that had initially hitched when you touched him slowed into a more controlled manner. You felt his jaw tense underneath the light stubble.

“What are you doing?” He asked in a small voice.

“Admiring you.” You responded before you could even think.

He took in a deep breath and grabbed your wrist. His eyes were wide and they danced side to side, trying to focus on your face.

You froze, unsure if he wanted you to pull away or stay where you were. You settled for leaving it up in the air and waiting for him to make the move.

“Don’t tease me like that.” There was no bite to the words. They came across much more defeated than angry and you wondered how many times people had jokingly said things like that just to pull the rug from under him.

“I’m not teasing.” You replied, trying to keep the fear from your voice.

Had you just fucked everything up? Was he going to run away now and tell Phoenix who would inevitably tell Rooster who’d tell Hangman who’d tell Fanboy and so on? Damn, you’d have to put in a request to transfer.

He let go of your hand and cupped your face, pulling you forward into a lip bruising kiss. You kissed back fervently, scooting forward on your chair and pressing deeper against him.

His mouth fell open and you took the opportunity to bite down on his bottom lip, hoping the action would speak the words you couldn’t find.

Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck and suddenly the distance between you needed to be closed. You stood from your chair, never breaking the kiss, and straddled his thigh.

His hands moved from your face to your back, then your waist, coming to settle right above where your shirt and pants met.

You could feel his hands toying with the fabric and you smirked into the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, gasping, he pressed his forehead back against yours.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked.

You knew he had struggled with self image. The other boys didn’t play nice and then when he tried to be with you or Phoenix, he’d get teased even more for being friends with the girls. Your heart hurt as you thought of all the times jokes were made about Bobs suspicious lack of romantic history.

“Because,” You said, pressing a quick kiss back to his lips. “You are” a kiss to his cheek. “so fucking” another below his ear. “adorable.” and with that, you left a linger kiss to his neck, enjoying how the vein tensed beneath your lips.

He shivered when you pulled away.

You took his glasses from the table and put them on him, smiling as he squinted at you.

“Wow, hi.” He said when he was finally able to see you up close.

“Hi.” You said, scooting up his thigh.

His hands never left your waist as you pressed your hips downwards, enjoying the slight friction it caused. Your stomach was doing flips and you hoped you were being subtle enough that he wouldn’t notice you grinding against him.

“Can…could we do that again?” He asked. How could you say no to such a precious request?

You didn’t waste your breath to answer before leaning back down to capture him in another kiss, deepening this one even fast than you had the first.

He moaned into your mouth and it was one of the sweetest sounds you’d ever heard. You sucked his bottom lip in between your teeth and his hips bucked subconsciously.

You had to pull away before you crossed a line you probably shouldn’t cross in a break room.

He chased your lips slightly before leaning back. His hands slid down and gently squeezed the sides of your upper thighs.

It was a kind motion but it sent very unkind thoughts to your mind and aching core.

“My bunk is pretty close. If you want to - We don’t have to do anything, you can show me your engine again and this could be a once off thing.” He panicked, hoping he hadn’t misread the situation.

Now that you knew he wanted you in that way too, you began openly grinding yourself across his thigh. He watched you with fascinated eyes, trying to mentally calculate the best time to tense his thigh for best friction payoff.

“I want to.” You panted. “I really want to.”

“Thank God.”

You stood up, pulling him with you, and dragged him to the door. You both peeked out to make sure none of your coworkers saw you two running around together before jogging down the hallway hand-in-hand.

You felt like a kid, giggling and running down corridors. Something about Bob really brought out a domestic side in you.

Once inside his bunk, he wasted no time pressing you against the door, kissing you hard.

You both began pulling at your outer layers, removing the button downs that were becoming all too hot even inside an air conditioned room.

You never would have guessed that Bob had it in him to take what he wanted but the way he was kissing you made you second guess.

He shifted a leg between yours and you gasped when he bounced you onto his thigh.

You got the message and began moving your hips against him. The friction just felt so good, you were sure you could cum right then and there.

When he moved away from your lips, you let out a desperate whine you didn’t think yourself capable of. His lips found your neck, pressing kisses and leaving soft nips that would unfortunately not leave a mark. You knew it was for the better since you really didn’t need anyone asking about this.

He found one spot on your neck that made you throw your head back and your core grow even more needy. Your mind went blank and all you could think about was getting him undressed and even closer.

“Keep going.” He mumbled into your skin, pressing his thigh down.

God damn, you would have never guessed Bob had it in him to do things like this. Perhaps you really didn’t know him as well as you thought you did.

You continued to grind against him as the assault on your neck never lessened. As good as it felt, you also felt like you were about to explode and you quickly untucked his shirt, pulling it over his head.

His glasses slipped off a little at the motion but he pushed them back in place.

You felt bad for thinking that you wished he would take them off. You loved him either way but the no-glasses look seemed much more appropriate for this situation.

“I wanna see you.” He explained as he pulled at your shirt.

You flushed crimson as you allowed him to pull off your shirt. His words were so sweet and so sinful at the same time. He unclasped your bra, letting it drape down your shoulders and at your feet.

He pressed his chest to yours and the contact felt heavenly. He kissed you again, slower this time but filled with the same amount of want.

You began pulling at your slacks, letting them pool at your ankles.

There was a prominent damp spot in your underwear and you were hesitant to continue grinding against his thigh knowing he’d be able to feel it. He slipped a hand down to your waist and dragged you along him, making the decision for you.

When you briefly pulled away to breathe again, you glanced down and noticed a trail on his slacks that sent your mind spiraling.

You had half a mind to be a bit grossed out but the other and stronger half thought it was so fucking hot.

Thankfully, so did Bob.

“You’re so wet.” He commented, pressing two fingers over the ruined fabric.

Simply hearing his sweet voice say such things sent another wave through you and you arched, trying to get him closer again.

He pressed a kiss to your lips and then began trailing downwards. He hit your collarbones, kissing both, before hitting your stomach and abdomen.

You stood there panting, pressed against the door, watching him with half lidded eyes as he sank to his knees before you.

He looked up at you and you nodded frantically. Once he got the confirmation needed, he was quick to throw your leg over his shoulder and bury himself inside your cunt.

You let out an embarrassingly loud cry when he licked you through your panties. Your hand came down to his hair, grasping onto him.

He continued his assault over the fabric until he decided that he’d had enough and pulled them aside. Once there was nothing between you and his warm tongue, you would swear you saw stars.

His lips wrapped around your clit while his skilled fingers began teasing your folds. His free hand was on the small of your back, pressing your hips closer to his face. Even with his eyes closed, he was somehow able to find the exact spots you needed him most.

“How are you - ngh - so good at this?” You struggled out. You felt him laugh against you and opted for licking a long strip down you in response.

He slowly fingered you open, pressing his nose to your clit while his tongue continued moving in figure eights. Your legs were shaking by the time he added a second finger and you had to press yourself against the door to keep from falling forward.

“Shit, Bob, please.” You whined.

His tongue fucked in and out of your hole. In combination with his fingers, you could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

You clenched around him, throwing your head back. The hand that was on your back came forward and lightly pressed against your lower abdomen, intensifying the feeling.

You came around his fingers and tongue, crying out his name. He coursed you through your orgasm, slowing his movements until you had finally come down from your high.

Your leg dropped from his shoulder and he stood back up, mouth glistening.

“Seriously, how the hell are you so good at that?” You panted out.

He smiled lop sided in return and shrugged. “I just really like doing it.”

Despite just having come down from your high, you could feel your arousal peek again at his admission.

You kissed him again, spinning him around so he was against the door. He made a soft sound as you began taking more control. You ground your hips against his, feeling the tent in his slacks.

He grabbed your ass and pressed you closer to him.

Now it was your turn to stick your thigh between his legs. He had no shame grinding against you, trying to get any amount of friction.

“I’m gonna…oh my God, I need these off.” He whined as he desperately pulled at his belt.

His slacks found the same place as yours on the floor and you pulled away to look at him.

You’d seen Bob before in the locker room but he seemingly always had clothes on. This was the first time you had ever seen him without his clothes and it was a religious experience.

He was toned - not as bulky as Rooster or Hangman but you honestly preferred that. Sometimes there was a thing as too much muscle. Across his chest, freckles adorned his skin and he had a small birthmark on his left rib cage. Your fingers danced over his chest, tracing ever line. His v-line was cut like marble and a weird part of you wanted to lick it.

“I know I don’t have a six pack like Coyote…” He muttered off.

You were quick to shut him up with another hard kiss. Your hand reached down to his boxers, teasing him through the fabric.

He moaned into your mouth as you applied light pressure and you were quick to make him do it again. His moans were whiney and desperate. God, he was so fucking cute.

You pulled down the waistband, allowing his cock to spring up. Holy hell, you would have never expected sweet and innocent Bob to be packing as much as he was. Your mouth watered and you could only think about having him inside you.

The tip was flushed and a bead of precum was sliding down the side. Prominent veins ran up towards the head and you experimentally pressed your thumb against one. His hips bucked and he let out a moan you often heard in over the top pornography.

Out of everything that had surprised you today, the fact that he was loud took the cake.

You wanted to hear more of him but with the thin walls, you knew it would be best to shut him up. You deepened the kiss and playfully sucked on his tongue.

“I wanna…please, oh fuck, can I?” He asked against your lips. Hearing Bob curse shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was but you were prepared to give him whatever it was he wanted.

“I’m all yours.” You replied.

He lifted you up from the back of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked you towards the bed and gently set you down. He hovered over you, kissing your neck before lightly tapping your legs as a way to signal for you to let go.

He scooted back, toying with the sides of your panties.

“Is this okay?” His eyes flicked up to yours as you nodded. He pulled them down, throwing them across the room to where your other clothes were.

He stood up, pulling down his boxers and opened the top drawer of his dresser. He pulled out a condom and tore it open with his teeth.

Your pussy throbbed at the sight and you ran a hand down to play with your aching clit. He turned back to you, enjoying the little show you were putting on for him as he properly put the condom on.

He came back to the bed, placed a kiss to your lips and then pushed your hand away. You groaned at the loss of contact but quickly changed your tune as his fingers picked up where yours left off.

“Spread your legs some more for me.”

You quickly obliged as he spread you open, looking down on your core. You could feel yourself dripping onto the sheets but couldn’t find yourself caring. You were far too gone to care about anything other than the man before you right now.

Slowly, he pressed the tip in and allowed for you to get used to the stretch.

You whimpered at the initial sensation but relaxed yourself to grow accustomed to it. When he felt you loosen, he pushed more in until he was finally flushed against you.

“You’re so tight.” He said, running a hand across your chest. His fingers pinched your nipples and you couldn’t help how you arched into his touch.

His head dipped down, taking the other nipple into his mouth and began sucking. Typically, you weren’t fond of this sort of treatment but with Bob, you never wanted him to stop.

He left small bites across your chest, ones that you knew would leave a mark, before switching to your other breast. He continued the same treatment while waiting for you to be comfortable enough for him to move.

You would have to admit, you were surprised with his patience. Most men at this point would have started railing into you with zero regard for your pain but Bob was waiting for you to say the word.

“You can move.” You panted, placing a hand on the back of his head. You played with his hair as he pulled out ever so slightly before pushing back in.

You gasped at how deep he was hitting even with such shallow thrusts. As his pace increased, he pulled away from your chest and sat upright to get a better view of you.

You took the opportunity as well to ogle his chest, unsure of when the next time you’d see it would be.

When he noticed you staring, he pulled off his glasses and smirked.

You couldn’t help how your body reacted to the sight. You clenched around him, reaching out for something to hold onto.

He clasped his free hand in yours and you felt the tears welling in your eyes.

How could he be so sweet, so sexy, and so respectful? One more move like that and you were sure you’d have to propose.

He placed his glasses on your face and pushed back your hair. You couldn’t see as well anymore, his prescription was pretty high, which made the feelings even more intense.

With your sight taken away, it felt like all your other senses were heightened. You could hear his soft pants and whines along with the way the bed was creaking. You felt each thrust ten times better and the pressure on your clit was delightful.

Your legs began to shake as he hit your g-spot. He lifted your hips and angled each thrust perfectly so he could hit your spot every time.

“Oh my God, please, Bob that feels so good.” You cried out, tears slipping down your face.

He made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded almost like a growl as he continued snapping his hips forward.

You felt the coil in your abdomen tighten and threaten to snap. You continued to hold his hand while the other still played with your clit.

If this man really was able to make you cum in under six minutes, you’d have to marry him.

And then he did.

It was like nothing you’d felt before. The exhilaration of pulling six g’s had nothing on the orgasm you were experiencing in this moment.

You cried out as you clenched around him. He fucked you through your high, desperate for his own release. He pulled out when he came but never let go of your hand.

It took a while for the aftershock to leave your body and you were vaguely aware of Bob taking his glasses from you and putting them back on. He tossed the covers of you while he grabbed a spare towel from his dresser. You could feel him cleaning off your chest and legs, careful to not overstimulate you before he cleaned himself off.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, heart still racing.

“Hey Bob?” He turned back to you. “How do you take your eggs in the morning.”

He chuckled as he walked back to the bed, pushing you aside before climbing in. He pulled you close and you placed your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Really fucked up.”

———

A few hours later after you had properly fixed yourself, you and Bob were back in the break room, looking for something to eat.

“Hey Phoenix.” He said cheerfully while he grabbed a box of cereal. He poured some in a bowl and ate them dry.

You turned to face your fellow female and gave her a wave. She nodded back and then did a quick double take.

She looked at you, then Bob, then back to you before hunching over and laughing. She was laughing so hard she had to brace herself against the table.

You shot Bob a nervous look before turning back to Phoenix. Maybe you could play dumb. She knew nothing, she had no proof.

“Your name badge says Floyd.”

Shit.

I Could Be Yours

hozier x f!reader

part one of lullabies <3

hi i have risen from the dead... new matt stone will be coming soon i promise!! i've just become infatuated with hozier recently so i had no choice but to devote a new fic to him <3

i didn't proof read because it's bedtime, i will fix tomorrow if there's any errors!! soz

cw: none really... just a shitty boyfriend and drinking. still 18+

word count: 3.5k

“That’s your man, ‘uh?” The deep voice behind me made me jump, forcing me to peel my eyes from Joe and the leggy blonde he was laughing with.

“Stop doing that!” I gasp, clutching a hand over my chest, jokingly punching Andrew in the arm. “But yes. That’s him,” I sigh, wanting to cut the conversation before it had a chance to start. Andrew was far too friendly to be talking to my walking storm cloud of a boyfriend.

“I didn’t know his sister was playing tonight,” he confessed casually, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “Which one is she?”

“He doesn’t have a sister,” I shake my head, quirking an eyebrow at the human tower before me. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Huh?” He played dumb, though a soft pink blush tinted his cheeks, looking like he wished he could eat his words.

“Where did you hear that?” I repeated, the room suddenly too hot for comfort, despite Joe's protests that I was dressed like a 'tart,' in his words.

“I’m sure I misheard, hearing’s a bit shot,” he lied through his teeth, and he must be a fool to believed I'd let him play it off.

“Andy," I faced him now, trying to force him to meet my eyes he was so desperately avoiding. "Who did he say that to?”

“That woman,” his voice sounded pained, as if he were almost ashamed to tell me. He was too smart, he could read me, and if anyone could read the room, it was him. I just went quiet, his warm calloused hand placed on my shoulder, feeling like it might burn a hole in my dress. “You deserve better,” he professed sincerely, pulling that horrid face at me, the type you pull when you feel really sorry for someone.

I huffed some pathetic excuse of a response, forcing my eyes to the ground. There seemed to be a magnetic pull, forcing my eyes back to Joe, hurting my own feelings again and again. I can’t recall a time he’d ever looked that interested in me. Not unless he was trying to bed me, which was usually after a stressful day at work or after a massive fight.

“If you were my girl, every man and their dog would know. You’re too good for him,” his voice was warm, like being pulled from a frozen over lake and straight into an oven. His Irish brogue more apparent than ever, and I cursed myself for the way my heart leapt in my chest.

He just slipped past me onto the stage for his set, unaware that he just made me feel nearly every emotion in the span of two minutes.

“That’s not even a real job,” Joe scoffed, shaking his head indignantly like he always did, as if everyone were beneath him. He’s always looked down at others for as long as I’ve known him. His Napoleon Complex makes him feel like he’s six foot eleven, when in reality, I barely have to tilt my head to kiss him.

I bit my cheek to suppress an angry concoction of insults, swallowing it down and opting for, “so my job isn’t a real job?”

“Babe,” he groaned, one soft hand slipping off the steering wheel onto my thigh. “You know that’s not what I meant. It’s just not very manly, is all. He should be doing something that’s not just for chicks.”

“He’s a carpenter, actually,” I lied, arms barricaded across my chest as I tried to focus on the London Bridge we were rolling over. “Manly enough for you?”

“Could you relax? Jesus Christ…” he pulled his hand from me quicker than he placed it there, sighing emphatically. “You gettin’ your period or something?”

“No!” It was my turn to scoff now, turning to face him. His stupid face was contorted like it always was, as if he’d smelt something rotten. “You’ve hurt my feelings, Joe.”

“Oh, everything hurts your fucking feelings,” he seethed, hooking a turn so sharp I just about fell into the driver’s side. I muttered under my breath, gripping onto the handle at the top of my door, as it was highly likely I was going to need it for the rest of the trip. That’s my Joe. Sickly sweet when you first meet him, then cold and sharp when he drops the act. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this shit.”

“Excuse me?” I straightened up, my stomach twisting in that familiar nauseating knot.

“You. Your shit,” he rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time, turning his head to me, deadpan. “Constantly starting arguments, whining about everything. You’re exhausting me.”

Then the rest of the entourage strides in on cue. The searing pain in my throat, the tears prickling into my eyes. The shame and embarrassment that pummel me like waves in a storm. Oh, God, the embarrassment. I feel my cheeks glow red, and suddenly the chill of late Autumn is comparable to a sauna, and there’s not enough air in the passenger side to satiate my lungs.

“Don’t cry,” he groans again, refusing to look at me again. And suddenly, I’m twelve again, trying to cry silently in my father’s car. Sigmund Freud would be laughing in his grave right now. “I’m sorry," he sighs, reaching for my leg again. I jerk away. "Shouldn’t have taken it so far.”

Though his apologies are just words at this point. I’ve walked this road too many times to not know any better. The rest of the ride home is silent, my knees pressed into the passenger door, trying to focus on anything but the fact that I will probably never leave. I will board this train wreck until he beats me down to nothing.

"He just has this weird infatuation for you. A blind man could see it," he tsked, shaking his head as if it were my fault. "And you just egg him on. He's a proper knob."

"He's the knob? What'd you think of your sister's set, hm?" I seethed, silently letting the tears fall as if I were in some sappy drama.

We didn't speak for the rest of the night, Joe slamming his car door, storming inside to lock himself in our bedroom. I washed my face in the kitchen sink and fell asleep on the couch in the small hours of the morning.

Joe didn't come to my show tonight, opting for the local pub with his work mates. I can't lie and say I was upset about it. Another thing I couldn't lie about is how Andrew's words played on a loop in my head for the rest of that night and all day today. I know he was just saying it to comfort me, but is it sad that I've never been so flattered?

"Hey," I smiled, the condensation from my breath hanging between us as I walked up to Andy. “Thought you were quitting.”

He was leaning against the brick wall outside the bar, a halfway smoked cigarette to his lips. He looked nice tonight. His usual unruly curls framing his face so perfectly, two layers under his dark denim jacket. He grinned infectiously as always, never once tearing his eyes from mine as he shrugged, “I’m no quitter.”

“Shut up,” I groaned, finding my spot beside him, now pressing my back to the cold bricks.

“So, where’s Jake tonight?” Now his eyes were fixed on the busy street before us, his arm brushing mine each time he’d put the cigarette to his lips.

“It’s Joe,” I corrected with an eye roll, though there was no malice in my expression. “And he’s watching the game with his mates. We’ve barely spoken since last night.” My heart ached a bit at the reminder of what he’d said to me on the drive home. You’re exhausting me. If his wish was for me to rethink the past five years, he certainly got it.

He gave me that pathetic poor you look again. "Come on. I'll buy ya' a drink. I insist."

"Who am I to deny you?" I grinned, following close behind him as he stubbed his cigarette out under his boot, holding the bar door open for me.

He ordered himself a whiskey on the rocks, a coconut margarita for me. We slid into a small booth at the back, the walls practically vibrating from the drunken chatter and the obnoxious drum solo on the stage.

"She's busy tonight, eh?" He half shouted across to me, leaning over his drink.

"I know, right? I've never seen the place like this," I agreed, taking in just how alive the atmosphere was tonight. "Remember me when you're famous."

"You're not easy to forget. You remember me!" He grinned at me, taking a large swig of his drink. I couldn't tear my eyes from his Adam's apple bobbing with each sip, his eyes dark in the dim lighting. I felt extreme guilt, forcing my eyes anywhere but his direction.

He must've sensed it. This man could read me like a book. Thankfully, he steered the conversation smoothly, "what're you playing tonight?"

"Oh, no. I'm not singing tonight," I shook my head, polishing off my drink in a sip a little bit too big for my mouth. "Want another drink? My shout."

"Why aren't you singing?" He ignored me, pulling a face that screamed, are you mad? "If there's any night for it, it's tonight."

"Honestly, I just want to get pissed and be the observer for once." I smiled sweetly, hoping he couldn't see through the facade. "What're you singing then?"

"An original," he smiled coyly, eyes faltering.

"Oh, Andy! How exciting," I cheered, genuinely happy for him. He'd shown me some of his poetry, and with such a beautiful voice, there's no possibility he could go wrong. "You're going to blow the roof off. This calls for another drink."

"As you wish," he grinned, holding eye contact as he finished off his glass, the faintest pink tinge to his cheeks.

When I made my way back to the table, my heart sunk a bit when I saw a girl leaning against our table giggling, tucking thick red locks behind her ears. He was laughing too, body language practically begging for more. I might be exaggerating. Why did I even care? I am in a committed relationship.

Funny, he looks just as amused as Joe did last night.

I made my way to the table, sliding his drink to him.

"Hi, I'm Harper," she smiled wide, a beautiful array of pearly teeth on full display.

"Lovely to meet you. Y/N," I smiled back, unable to look at Andrew. "I'm gonna go watch the show. I'll leave you to it."

I turned my back just as he was about to protest, sipping at my drink as I kept my word, finding a seat before the stage. I couldn't really focus on the music though, my mind reeling over what Joe was up to. He hadn't even texted or calls. His location was off too. I grabbed another couple drinks, bumping into Andrew when I made my way back to the stage.

"Y/N," he reached for my arm, a sincerely apologetic tone to his voice. "I'm sorry for earlier, that was rude."

"No it wasn't," I replied a bit too quick, brushing off the apology. "You're single, you can do whatever."

"I meant having someone at our table," shit. Was that the wrong thing to say? Their margaritas are always too strong. "I was enjoying just having you and I time."

"No worries, there's always next time," I smiled sweetly, though really, I just wanted to get in the nearest cab, pack all my shit at home and move back to Bristol. "You're nearly on! I'll be front row." I turned away again, finding my way back to the nice girls I made small talk with earlier.

Sure enough, Andrew was up within the next fifteen minutes. The announcer, somewhere hidden backstage spoke, "please give your warmest welcome to our absolute favourite, Andrew Hozier-Byrne!"

He walked onto the stage, acoustic guitar hanging from his neck as he awkwardly made his way onto the stage, adjusting the microphone to his height as he did each night.

"Ehm, this song is called I Could Be Yours," he offered a tight lipped smile to the crowd, a few cheers heard here and there. "Thanks guys."

I couldn't help but grin at his shyness, the complete opposite of how he was with me.

I could be soft and sweet, I could be hard and loud.

I could be everything you'd ever need somehow.

Why don't you hear me sing out from the lost and found,

I could be yours, I could be yours, I could be yours.

He seemed to be scanning the crowd, probably for Harper, meanwhile all eyes were on him, basking in his glory. As if he were rain in a drought, not a single soul in the audience not mesmerised by his syrupy voice. Myself included, wide eyed, the epitome of awe.

Why don't you try on me? Why don't you take me home?

I'll match the colour scheme of your bedroom walls.

Oh, take a dose of me, it doesn't hurt at all.

I could be yours, I could be yours, I could be yours.

His skilled fingers danced along the strings, his eyes, when not scanning the crowd focused on his measured movements. To say I was moved was an understatement. His voice thick and sweet as honey, his eyes shining under the stage lights, the hypnotic effect he had on the crowd. Unlike anything I had ever experienced.

Then his eyes found mine. It was almost like nothing existed in the same realm as him and I. Just us.

Oh God, I'd benefit from your sweet tenderness.

Oh, thank God, it could've been, 'cause nothing comes from it.

That'd be a helpful thought if I could remember it,

but I could be yours, I could be yours, I could be yours.

"Thanks," he nodded awkwardly to the crowd, eyes leaving mine as he did the stage, the audience cheering and clapping.

I couldn't put into words the feelings I felt if you held a gun to my head. No doubt my eyes glistened back at his, tears of joy swimming at my waterline, completely estranged from last nights'.

"He was looking right at you!" One of the women I'd met shouted over the cheers, shaking me by the shoulder. I just hummed some response, smiling and beelining for the exit.

The bite of the outdoors was a stark comparison to the warmth of the bar, my nervous system seeming to reset instantaneously. I pulled out my phone and checked the time. 8:45pm. I told Joe I wouldn't be home til midnight and not to wait up for me.

It was wrong to feel this way about Andrew. He was my friend. I had Joe. Even if we had our rough patches.

My phone buzzed wildly in my hand, and when I checked the caller ID, I nearly didn't pick up.

I sighed. "Hello?"

"Hey," Andrew spoke loudly over the drunken chatter, a few good one mate, and, good on ya's here and there. "Where'd you run off to?"

"I, uh, had too much to drink," I lied through my teeth, kicking at the gravel beneath my feet. "I'm just heading home."

"Oh..."

"I'm out the front," I piped up, not wanting him to think he caused this. Or that I was running away. Because I was not. Right?

He hung up and shortly after, his tall figure emerged, his shadow reaching me before he did.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. "Great song, Andy. Really beautiful." I meant it.

"Oh, yeah. Thank you," he smiled, looking down at his boots. "How're you getting home?"

"I was gonna get a cab, or an Uber, or something." I shrugged, acutely aware of how breathy I sounded. Beyond tired. I wasn't lying when I said I'd had too much to drink.

"No need, I'll take you." He offered, digging his hands into his pockets and gesturing with his head for me to follow.

"It's okay, Andy, really," I countered, giving him my must sincere smile I could muster. I was too confused right now. Nobody had ever made me feel this way while I've been with Joe. "Get in there and mingle. They loved you."

"I'd rather know you're safe."

I ended up in the passenger seat of his car. He'd kindly put the heater on full blast, though no doubt, he'd be sweating under all those layers. I protested, but he kept fretting about how red my nose was from the cold.

"You alright?" He asked, my head leaned against his window.

"Yeah," I breathed, struggling to keep my eyes open, though my mind was very much awake and racing.

"You've been acting funny, did I upset you?" He glanced over at me, concern written all over his features. Had he always been this handsome?

"It's not you. I'm sorry," I lifted my head to look at him. Tequila and I are not friends. I flipped down the visor mirror to see a tiny it of smudged mascara under my eyes. I wiped it away, sighing for the hundredth time. "Joe just... things aren't going well. I slept on the couch last night. Well, barely. He's just so mean, you know?" I babbled drunkenly, a huge weight lifting after finally telling someone. "He always picks at everything I do. You complain all the time. You put too much salt in this. That isn't a real sustainable job, babe. We never shag anymore... Shag? Isn't that disgusting, Andy?"

I continued my drunken spiel, probably including more details than I should have. Andrew just kept his eyes on the road, sharing glances here and there to let me know he was listening.

The grande finale, "why can't all men just be like you? You would make a wonderful husband, you know. You wouldn't tell your girlfriend she's too lively in bed, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't," he laughed, shaking his head. He looked at me fondly. For once, it wasn't a look of sympathy. It was kind of sad, almost.

"I've said too much, haven't I?" I probably looked like a kicked puppy at the realisation, but one smile from him eased any disconcertion I had.

"Not at all," he sighed, staring at his hands on the wheel. "I have a lot to say. I just don't think I should be the one saying it."

"Well, now you have to tell me," I countered, lolling my head to the side to face him.

"He's a fuckwit," he shook his head, his grip on the wheel tightening. "He doesn't deserve you. Not even a little bit. He's going to fuck it up and won't realise what he's lost until it's too late. And you know what? Good."

He pulled onto the road before my house with perfect timing, getting out of the car to open my door for me. He took my hand in his, helping me out, and thank goodness he did, because I still nearly rolled my ankle. I laughed and let myself fall into his chest, steadying myself after a hearty, obnoxious laugh.

"Oh my God, I've made a complete fool of myself tonight," I sighed, this time it felt like a release, not a breath weighing me down. "Thank you for taking care of me, Andy."

"Anytime at all," he grinned leaning against his car. I couldn't help myself, lurching forward at him, wrapping my arms around his torso. My head barely reached his shoulder, even when standing on the curb.

"I loved your song," I murmured against his chest, pulling back to grab his face. He turned ghost white. "You are my favourite singer. Ever."

His cheeks darkened as he looked away, chuckling softly with the shake of his head.

"Drink lots of water for me tonight. That's an order as your favourite singer."

"Yes, Mr. Hozier-Byrne," I grinned, turning on my heels and heading for the door. The garage door was 1/4 open. Joe must be home early.

I fumbled through my purse for my keys, finding them after what felt like an eternity of great difficulty. I was going in with a good attitude. I was going to sit him down and hash this out. We can fix this. We've been together nearly 6 years, this is just a rough patch.

I walked up to my bedroom, sure my ears were deceiving me. When I opened my bedroom door, I saw red.

omg angst... just hear me out i have good direction for this one. i hope u enjoyed <3

No cause that scene with Kaz and inej had me watching with my jaw open!! Giggling nd kicking my feet.

screaming. crying. throwing up. bent over. desperate. sick to my stomach. sweating. cursing. praying. begging. pleading

Checkerboard

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.

AN: A more reformed Soldier Boy (AU post-season 3) has to come to terms with his strength.

Word Count: 1,000 Warnings: M Rating (18+ only!) for nudity. Also language and fluff.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks. 

You’re still half-asleep, because Ben had been absently stroking a thumb across your back. He sits up against the headboard of the bed you so often share, already drinking a cup of coffee. He looks damn-near domestic…

Until he actually looked down at the bruises peeking out at him from beneath the sheets. He sets down his mug and pushes the sheets down.

He then stares at the marks that litter your back, waist, hips, and ass. You shoot him an annoyed look at being bared so early in the morning.

“What’re you doing?” you ask.

He manhandles you just firmly enough to turn you over so he can see your face—out from where it had been buried in your pillow. Despite yourself, you greet his annoyingly handsome face. It's covered with neatly trimmed stubble, and with the back of your hand you touch his cheek in affection. He pushes it away.

“You got something to tell me?” he says, more of a demand than a question. “Answer me. What the fuck happened here?”

He gestures at a prominent dark-bluish mark on the inside of your thigh. You sigh and give him a patient look (and that is an effort in itself).  

“Nothing,” you reply. A cheeky smile starts to play at your lips, but Ben’s brows furrow in irritation. He knows you’re messing with him, and he doesn’t appreciate it.

“You work at a damn desk. Unless you’re getting nailed by the mail guy—”

“Get fucking serious, Ben.” You dismiss that with a roll of your eyes. He tilts his head at you. His mouth works, and his gaze becomes suspicious. But you notice an edge of worry behind his eyes.

Has someone hurt you? Threatened you?

It hasn’t been the first time the latter had happened. Even though Soldier Boy was officially pardoned and now works as a contracted ally with Supe Affairs, he still has plenty of hated enemies. It doesn’t help that you also work in the thick of it—running surveillance for the team.

So you decide to put him out of his misery.

“You really don’t remember?” you ask wryly.

At Ben’s raised brow, your lips quirk at the corner.

“You don’t remember two days ago? When you met me at my office for lunch, which consisted of you rudely sweeping all my hard work to the floor and ultimately breaking my new desk?”

Realization lights up Ben’s face, and his mouth edges into a smirk.

“We were breaking it in,” he corrects you.

Good times, he thinks, before another, less fun realization hits him: his hands are responsible for the patchwork quilt of bruises that litter your skin.

And he remembers, yet again, that he has the very real capacity to hurt you.

You notice how he takes pains to be gentle, slowly brushing the back of his hand across your thigh.

“It’s not the first time,” you remind him.

“It could be the last,” he reminds you. Your face doesn’t change.

You won’t take compound V. Not for him. Not for anyone.

But with shit like this, he wonders why you stay with him. 

“It’s good for you to remember your own strength,” you say, only half-teasing. He turns away from you.

Ben grumbles, “You wanna gamble with your fucking life, that’s up to you.”

You shake your head.

“Don’t do that.” You lean on his shoulder from behind and caress his back—smooth of any scars. You can’t help but prod at him again. “Real men don’t sulk.”   

He shoots you a look over his shoulder. You giggle at his green-eyed annoyance.

The truth is, you make it difficult for him not to care. Not to be a softer man. 

He fucking hates soft. 

But…just for you, he could do it. Just a little.

He closes his hand over yours, which rests on his chest. 

“Sorry,” he says. His voice is deep and holds the weight of his sincerity. That one word also encompasses how much progress his relationship with you has made.

Instead of answering, you kiss his shoulder, the back of his neck. He turns around and strokes your cheek, knowing from your eyes that you don’t hold anything against him. 

“You don’t have to treat me like a porcelain doll, but I don’t need to look like a checkerboard either,” you tease. 

Ben rolls his eyes and slides his arms under you, pulling your naked body onto his bare chest and making you squeal. You meet his eyes as his hand soothes down your back.

“How about this,” he says. “Come up with a safe word.”

You laugh. “We already have one.”

“That’s for other shit,” Ben says, grinning. “Let’s have one just for this. Whenever you wanna remind me to tone it down.”

His hands are careful when they grasp a non-aching portion of your hips. You look down on him fondly, and you consider his suggestion.

“Hmm…pineapples,” you decide. It’s the first obnoxious thing that comes to mind.

“No,” he says. “Veto.”

“What? You can’t veto. It’s my safe word.”

“I’m not gonna be balls deep inside you hearing pineapples in my ear.”

You shake your head at your boyfriend and frame his face with your hands, squeezing his head in exasperation.   

“Fine. How about…checkers,” you suggest. A teasing smile comes to your face, even if it pulls his lips into a frown. “So you remember we had this conversation.”

You can tell he doesn’t entirely like it, but he nods in agreement.

“Good. Now, care to join me for a bath?” you ask. Ben is reluctant; he knows you’re going to pour in a shit ton of frilly-smelling soap and bath salts that feel uncomfortable to sit on. But he’s open to the bath time shenanigans that usually ensue.

“I am still a bit sore,” you say, giving him an imploring look. He levels you with a knowing frown. Using his guilt against him is a dirty tactic, and you always employ it well to your advantage.

“Fine. But we’re using regular fucking soap,” he says. You smile and press a lingering kiss to his lips.

But you both know that the second his back is turned, you’re going to dump in your lavender-scented bath bubbles anyway.

AN: I found this basically sketched out in my files and decided to clean it up and put it out there! Let me know what you think. I know it's a much softer Soldier Boy than we're used to seeing. ;)

Read the Prequel:

If you liked this, check out the prequel series to this one-shot:

Series Masterlist: Break Me Down

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Jude and Cardan