pendingnomdeplume

[pendingnomdeplume]

pairing: hozier x gn!reader rated: T (language)

PROMPT: One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

The sound of the front door is what startles you awake. The bedroom is still dark when you open your eyes, and a glance at your phone tells you it’s far too early to be conscious. A click of the lock rings out, followed by soft footsteps and the slow rolling of a suitcase. In the shadows, you can make out a tall figure shuffling in, obviously trying to keep quiet to avoid disturbing your sleep. You rub the crust from your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbow. 

“Baby?” 

Andrew jumps at the sound of your voice, whirling around to face you as you reach over to turn on your bedside lamp. 

“Did I wake you?” he whispers. You shrug in response, and he grimaces. “I’m sorry, love. Go back to sleep. I’ll be in bed in just a minute.” 

He disappears into the bathroom, and you push yourself up to sit back against the headboard. The world is still righting itself when you hear the shower running, but you know yourself—now that you’re up, you won’t be able to fall back asleep. A look out the window reveals a golden light beginning to peek above the horizon, the sky slowly shifting to blue as the clouds hang like warm cotton candy. 

It’s not too early for coffee, you decide. 

When Andrew emerges from the bathroom, you’re sitting up in bed with a mug that you sip from tentatively. His hair hangs around his face, still damp and unruly from a lack of combing. You laugh as he falls into bed with a soft thump, his face buried in his pillow as he sighs heavily. You reach out to rub his back, and he wiggles gently beneath your touch. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” It’s a courtesy you both provide to each other, checking in and gauging energy to avoid miscommunication. 

“Not right now.” His voice is muffled as he speaks into the pillow. 

You watch him roll over and sit up before he mirrors your position against the headboard. You hold out your mug, and he thanks you with a tired smile. 

“I missed you,” you say quietly, watching as he sips your coffee.

He smiles. “I missed you, too.” He holds out the mug and you take it from his hands. Instead of pulling away, he slowly brings his hands up to cup your face. You feel breathless as he brushes his thumb over your cupid’s bow and the swell of your lower lip. He tilts your chin up, and you smile before leaning in to close the gap between you. The kiss is soft, warm, and exactly what you need after missing him for so long. 

When you pull away, you tuck a piece of stray hair behind his ear and pat his cheek. “You need to go to bed, my love.”

[pendingnomdeplume]

pairing: hozier x gn!reader rated: T

PROMPT: An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

“This feels like a bad idea…” Your mumbled words are left unheard by anyone else as the group chatters and laughs amongst themselves. You should have known that a night off with this group would mean a night of shenanigans, though the embarrassed smile on Andrew’s face tells you that he also didn’t think this is where the evening would go when he invited you to hang out with them.

You watch as a playing card is pulled from a deck, your hands fidgeting nervously with the red cup in your hand as Melissa holds up a Queen of Spades. 

“Okay, so! The game is called Suck and Blow,” she announces. A hush falls over the bus as the band turns their attention onto her. A few giggles ripple through the group as Melissa grins and takes another sip of her drink. “The goal is to take this card and pass it around the circle without your hands. The way we’re going to do that is—well, it’s called Suck and Blow. I’m sure you can figure it out. Larissa, can you help me demonstrate?” 

Larissa nods and scoots closer as Melissa holds the card up to the group. Then, she places it against her mouth and pulls her hands away. The card stays in place as she inhales through her mouth. She leans in close to Larissa’s face, and with a gentle blow, she pulls away to show Larissa holding the card with her own mouth. 

It’d be disingenuous to call it anything but intimate—basically a kiss with a thin barrier under the guise of a drinking game. It’s silly and childish, but everyone else seems enthusiastic to try. You should have known. This particular group has a penchant for both competition and chaos, only made worse when the two go hand-in-hand.

You watch as the card starts with Melissa, which is passed to Larissa, then to Kamilah, onto Kellen, then Alex. There’s a moment where the card nearly drops, but Alex saves it at the last second before leaning in to pass it to Andrew. Alex pulls away laughing, his face bright red before taking another sip of his drink. 

It all happens so quickly—you lean in to take the card, your heart racing at the mere thought of his proximity. What you don’t notice is the way the card slips from his mouth and falls into his lap. The first brush of your lips to his startles you, and you pull away with a sharp gasp and burning cheeks as the group hollers and teases you both. There are accusations thrown Andrew’s way, claiming that he did it on purpose, that he just wanted to kiss you which is why he even agreed to this stupid game in the first place. 

You watch his expression curiously. It’s not lost on you that he doesn’t argue, doesn’t deny anything as he picks up the card and waves it at you, a silent question. His own face is flushed, and you briefly wonder how much of it is the alcohol and how much of it is sheer embarrassment. Finally, you nod at him to try again. 

As you lean in again, he pulls the card away from his mouth and uses it to shield you both as he kisses you again. It’s soft and tentative, but clearly deliberate. You stare at him with wide eyes, only vaguely registering the way Alex yells at Rory that he owes him money. 

[pendingnomdeplume]

just ask - hozier

content warnings: 18+, SMUT, daddy kink, hozier being hot, smut under the cut

"Andrew, please-"

"No."

You've been wanting to call him the "d" word for a while.

He selfishly has edged you for the last hour, simply because you haven't told him. You were too scared.

"Baby, you can come if you tell me what you want. That's it, pet." He says, trying to coax it out of you.

You respond with a groan, like you have been each time he's told you that. Now it was time for him to take matters into his own hands. He's been given you opportunities, but you just wouldn't take them.

He quickly pulled his fingers out of you and sucked them, making eye contact with you. You breath hitched, scared but aroused at what he was going to do.

"Alright, darlin'. You're gonna tell me." He planted a kiss on your lips. "'M not doin' anythin' else until you confess." His lips hovered over your breasts, his breath tickling it as you grinded your hips against his body.

His hand held your hips to the mattress. "Ah, ah. Need to hear what you want first."

You voice was low, "W-wanna call you daddy." You screwed your eyes shut and held your breath. He placed a kiss in between your breasts.

"Mmm, I see princess. And do you want me to be daddy all the time or just in the bedroom?" He dragged his lips all the way up

You swallowed hard. "Yeah, all the, all the time."

"Mmm. That wasn't so hard, was it baby?" His voice was thicker now, dripping with lust.

You nodded.

"Yeah? Well guess what princess,"

You hummed in response, your mind a haze.

"Daddy's gonna give you what you want."

[pendingnomdeplume]

KENDRICKKKKK WRITE A SUB!ANDREW FIC AND MY LIFE!!!! IS YOURS!!!!!!

Took a while (a long long while), but I did it!!

Hold Me Close -a.h.b.

pairing: andrew hozier-byrne x reader

word count: 707

warnings: smut

Andrew was exhausted, yet he craved your touch. It had been three months since the two of you had last met, when you’d flew out for one of his concerts on tour. You’d missed each other terribly since then, waiting for when he’d come back home and have you all to himself. He now found himself standing at the door of you shared home, a week earlier than was decided.

You opened the door, all sleep vanishing from your eyes as you tackled him into a hug. He was equally enthusiastic, his tired state easily forgotten. He kissed your forehead and the two of you stayed like that, enjoying the warmth that you’d missed so much.

Eventually, you found yourselves cuddled up and in bed, sharing lazy kisses along each other’s skin. You could tell that your love was tired, but that he still craved your touch with the way he craned his neck and gasped softly as you pushed him onto his back.

Andrew loved it when you took control. His exhausted state on this particular occasion made it easier for you to do so. Your movements unhurried, you trailed open mouthed kisses along his neck, nipping and teasing until the pale skin bruised.

Your fingers slipped under his shirt, teasing the waist band of his pants. You captured his lips in a slow kiss, and all he could feel was the intoxicating scent that was so uniquely yours.

“Darling?” you questioned in a gentle voice.

He nodded, forcing his eyes open.

“Lift your hips for me, Andy,” you tugged his clothes off, goosebumps prickling along his skin.

“Sit back,” he did as he was told, eyes watching intently as you took your shirt off. They hungrily traced the outlines of your curves. Although he wouldn’t dare touch, eager to be good for you.

You smiled at his obedience, “Touch me, darling.”

He brought a palm to your chest, teasing your sensitive buds. He reached forward, tentatively kissing your skin. The flat of his tongue rolled against you slowly, and you hummed, threading your fingers through his locks.

Your hips rolled against his and his hands found your waist, squeezing slightly. He looked up at you beseechingly, mumbling, “Please.”

“So quick to beg, hm?” a flush had crept up his face. Usually, he put up more of a fight, but today, he’d do anything for you if only you’d give him the word. His eyes drifted to the ceiling, shying away from you. He rarely ever got like this, so needy.

You brought your hand between the two of you, teasing him against yourself. A strangled sound left his throat. You sunk down on him slowly, his head hitting the headboard and yours resting against his shoulder. Your thighs shook from trying to keep yourself up. You leaned your hands against the headboard, pushing yourself into a sitting position. His eyes fluttered open and you held his gaze, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and kissing him slowly.

You moved slowly, taking your time. A soft gasp and he lay helpless, letting you work him at your pace until you caught up with him. All he could feel was you. He was so, so close. But not yet. Through the haze he could feel you shudder above him.

“Let go, love,” your voice was hoarse, throat dry. His fingers dug into the flesh of your soft thighs as the dark behind his eyelids exploded into stars. You fell apart over him, limbs weak and shaky.

The two of you lay there, unable to think clearly. Finally, you hoisted yourself up to fetch a wet towel. Once you’d cleaned the mess, you cuddled against a very tired Andrew now fighting to keep his eyes open until you were in his arms again.

You pecked his forehead softly and he buried his face into your neck, fingers tracing the bruises already forming on your thighs. “I love you so much,” he sighed, reaching back to look at you. The adoration in his eyes made something deep inside you purr like a kitten. Instead, you smiled at him, “Get some rest, darling. You’ll need in the morning. I’ve missed you quite a lot, you know.”

[pendingnomdeplume]

pairing: hozier x gn!reader rated: G

PROMPT: Cleaning the other person's lips with a lick and a kiss.

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

The warmth of a normally hidden sun and the humidity of the last few days’ rain bears down heavily on you as you walk alongside Andrew towards a cluster of shops not too far from his home. Some folks smile and nod pleasantly, while others ignore you both completely, too preoccupied with their own lives to even register the baby giraffe of a man you’re trying to keep up with. 

“It’s too hot for this,” you whine, fanning yourself with your hand dramatically despite it doing absolutely nothing for you. 

Andrew glances at you and smiles. Somehow, he’s still wearing his denim jacket despite the current conditions. You’re impressed by his determination to keep his body covered in spite of all common sense. 

“You’ll get your iced coffee, don’t worry,” he replies, smirking at your annoyed huff as you continue walking. 

The shop isn’t busy when you arrive, having just missed the morning rush of folks on their way to work. There’s a few customers scattered about, but they pay you no mind. The barista at the counter is chipper as you order, and soon you’re sipping on an iced mocha while Andrew drinks an iced black coffee on your way back to the house.

“You just don’t know joy,” you say when Andrew pulls a face at your drink and shakes his head. “Enjoy your bitter bean water.” 

“Can I try?” he asks. You nod and hold out your cup to him. Despite being in a relationship, he’s still courteous about straws and lifts the plastic lid to sip directly from the cup. When he pulls it away, a line of whipped cream rests on his top lip. “Yeah, that’s awful,” he says before taking another small sip just to irritate you. 

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Baby, you’ve got…” You gesture towards your own mouth, and Andrew tilts his head in faux confusion. 

“Hmm?” 

“Just there,” you say, and he wipes at his cheek, making you giggle again. “You’re being annoying. Come here.” 

You’re both stopped in the middle of the pavement, shrouded by dense foliage–a perfect cover for any prying eyes. You look quickly up and down the road and see nobody, so you lean up on your toes and pull him close. He inhales sharply as you swipe your tongue over his lip, and you can feel him smile as you punctuate the gesture with a kiss. When you pull away, his eyes are wide but sparkling with amusement. 

“And yet, you keep rewarding me for my annoying behavior,” he hums.

[pendingnomdeplume]

pairing: hozier x gn!reader rated: T (language)

PROMPT: Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

A fire pit roars near the buses on the outskirts of the festival grounds. In the distance, a rock band you’ve only vaguely heard before plays their set to a screaming crowd, and you kick back in your folding chair with a sigh. Thankfully, Andrew’s set was over for the evening, done before the sun had even set, and now the band and a few crew are hanging out before the next day’s performance. 

Andrew nudges you with his knee, a surreptitious touch that makes you smile. When you glance at him, he’s staring straight ahead, eyes focused on the blackened marshmallow that Kellen pulls from the fire with a gasp and a swear before blowing out the flames. 

As far as you know, nobody in the band is aware of your evolving relationship with Andrew. It’s an agreement you made from the beginning—the status of your relationship is strictly on a need-to-know basis until you get home. It’s a precaution given the amount of eyes that are on him now, although he’s admitted to feeling terrible about the whole ordeal. Each guilty sigh was met with understanding and soft words, affirming to him that you didn’t want to be a spectacle anymore than he did. At least, not for the wrong reasons. 

You catch Andrew typing on his phone in your periphery, jumping when your phone buzzes on your thigh. The message is a simple, “Follow me?” followed by a side-eye emoji that makes you smile. He doesn’t look at you directly, but you can see the way he watches you from the corner of his eye and smiles in return. 

He gets up wordlessly and disappears with a faint, “Be right back,” when Alex calls after him in confusion.Your leg bounces wildly as you wait for a moment to slip away. The opportunity presents itself as Kamilah shouts for anyone to bring her graham crackers while violently blowing out her own burnt marshmallow. In the midst of the chaos and laughter, you quietly walk back in the same direction as Andrew, rounding the corner of the bus and knocking into him as he leans against the metal structure. 

“They make me nervous sometimes,” you murmur with a shake of your head as the shrieks continue, a faint, “You made me drop my s’more!” ringing out in between giggles. 

Andrew pulls you into a hug and holds you as you rest your head against his chest. “As long as the bus doesn’t catch on fire…again…” 

“To be fair, that wasn’t their fault necessarily. Couldn’t have known the microwave would explode like that.”

“True,” he hums. “And the deposit should hopefully cover the damage to the carpet.”

“And you know how to use a fire extinguisher now,” you add.

You feel him shake in quiet laughter. “You know, for being in my 30s, I probably should have known that anyway.”

“Yeah, you and everyone else here,” you snort. 

You pull back to look at him, startling when you catch his tender gaze. One large hand cups your chin, gently forcing your eyes upwards as he leans in to kiss you. You hide your face in his t-shirt once more, sighing softly as he squeezes you and presses a kiss to your head. It’s moments like these that you desperately try not to take for granted—out in the open, under the stars, a cool breeze lapping at your skin as you bask in each other’s warmth and silence. 

Another shriek breaks your reverie, and you hear your own name being called as Ryan shouts something about, “Alex, you’re such a fucking tattler!” You thump your head against Andrew’s chest once before pulling away from him with an amused sigh. 

“Duty calls,” you whisper, leaning up for another kiss. He squeezes you again, and you straighten yourself out once he releases you before rounding the bus with a shout. “What the fuck are you guys doing now, huh?!” 

[pendingnomdeplume]

pairing: hozier x gn!reader rated: T (language)

PROMPT: Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin.

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

Rain pounds against the windows as thunder rumbles in the distance. A flash of lightning illuminates the bedroom for a brief moment, and Andrew watches you jump as you catch his reflection. His arms are around you before you can react, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Thought you were writing,” you mumble. His grip loosens, and you spin to face him before pressing your body back against his. You sigh contentedly when he begins to stroke your hair and hum quietly–a tune you’ve heard, but you can’t remember if it’s his or one of the many songs that inspire him. 

“I haven’t seen you all day.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, a punctuation of his response. 

You pull away just enough to see his face–tired but bright, excited. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen this energy from him, and it stirs something tender in your heart. Andrew leans in, and you sigh softly into a kiss as another crack of thunder and lightning hits in the distance. 

It’s his hands that startle you as they slip beneath your shirt to touch bare skin. You gasp and break the kiss, your hands flying back to push him away. 

“Holy shit, your hands are like fucking ice,” you cry as he giggles and attempts to shove his hands under your shirt again while you fend him off. “Andrew, this isn’t funny, I’m being serious–” 

But you’re not, really, laughing as you slip from his grasp and rush towards the hallway–towards his bedroom–with him hot on your heels. 

[pendingnomdeplume]

i am drowning, and there's no sign of land pairing: hozier x gn!reader rating: T tags: angst, mental illness, hurt/comfort words: 761

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

title from: No Children by The Mountain Goats divider by: cafekitsune

It’s late when you call, a last resort for which you’ll profusely apologize and ask forgiveness that you’ll never believe or accept. The stains of leftover tears make your skin feel tight as you rub at your swollen eyes and take a deep breath. At least your breathing has evened, no longer wracked with hiccuping sobs that make your ribs hurt. 

“Hey, are you okay?” It’s the first thing to rush from his mouth, worry obvious in his voice. You can imagine him now, frizzy hair thrown up and out of the way while he sits at his computer or hunches over a notebook—the anxiety gripping his chest as he sees your name pop up at an hour that is usually all his own. 

The only response you can summon is a humorless laugh as you shake your head despite him not being able to see it. 

“Do you need me to call someone?” Andrew wouldn’t ask without reason, and you’d provided plenty of reason for this level of concern before. 

“Nothing so dire.” You wince at the way your voice cracks. “It’s just…it’s been a night.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

It’s such a simple phrase, but it makes your heart swell and tears prick the corners of your eyes. One of the few people who’s never made you feel like a burden on them. 

 You sigh. “My brain won’t stop, and it’s so loud today. I don’t know what actually triggered it, but…it’s been pretty touch-and-go the last few days.”

You brace yourself for an impact that likely won’t come. Andrew isn’t like that, won’t blame you for not reaching out sooner as if it’s a moral failing. Likely, he’ll be more frustrated with himself for not seeing signs even when you’ve worked so hard to conceal them. 

“Did you email your psych?” 

The question sends an electric buzz of irritation along your skin that you try to shake off. He knows you hate that question, but he also knows that you drag your feet on your own well-being—part of the menagerie of mental illness that convinces you it doesn’t matter anyway. You pause and take a deep breath to swallow down the snappy comment that desperately wants to break free. 

“I did, but I don’t know when I’ll hear back.” 

You’re both quiet as each of you thinks of the next thing to say, but everything that comes to mind is just as alarming as the call itself.  A barrage of self-doubt, self-pity, and self-deprecation tumbles through your brain, and you squeeze your eyes shut as though it will do anything to quiet the roar. 

“Do you…want to talk about it?” The question is asked thoughtfully and extended carefully. You take a moment to turn it over in your mind, gauging where exactly your own emotional energy is at. 

Finally, you shake your head. “No, I don’t think…I don’t think there’s anything to really talk about. Not right now, anyway. I just…” 

I just don’t feel real. I need an anchor to reality. 

Andrew asks, “Do you want to get on FaceTime, then? I’m working on something if you want to hear.” If you need company.

When the screen fills with his image, he smiles and greets you softly. An acoustic guitar rests in his lap as he flips back through his notebook to find where he’d left off. As he plucks out quiet notes, you shimmy down under the covers and reach over to turn off your bedside lamp. Andrew glances over when he notices the shift in his peripheral vision, and he smiles again when he sees your eyes peeking out from beneath your duvet, already starting to get heavy with sleep. 

You watch him for a while, occasionally catching the way he glances at his phone to see if you’re still there, still awake. Warmth floods your chest as he sings to himself, little sounds and whispers here and there as you catch a few words that make little sense to you within the greater context. 

Sleep takes you just as the sky begins to shift. The birds just outside Andrew’s window signal dawn, and he’d nearly forgotten he was on a call at all with how comfortable and cozy the silence is between you. 

He catches the way your eyes dart beneath closed eyelids, clearly in the depths of a dream. He whispers your name once, then repeats it louder than before, but you barely stir. Finally, he reaches over, letting his hand hover over the End Call button before whispering a barely audible, “Goodnight.” 

[pendingnomdeplume]

rainin' all over the world pairing: hozier x female!reader rating: explicit (18+) tags: PWP, established relationship, mild exhibitionism, mild voyeurism, light softdom!Andrew words: 2.0k

title from: Rainy Night in Georgia by Brook Benton divider by: sylusz

Winter descends upon County Wicklow in a flash, cold winds and heavy rainfall rattling the windows as you stare out of Andrew’s kitchen window—your kitchen window now, too, you suppose—waiting for your coffee to brew. You’re glad that the terrible weather waited until he was safely home from tour instead of leaving him stranded on a tarmac on a full flight with no escape. 

He’s only been home for 36 hours, but a majority of those hours have been spent in bed together while he catches up on months worth of snuggles and sleep. Andrew has barely let you out of bed long enough to do anything productive, though you’re not exactly complaining when it’s felt like forever since you last saw each other. 

What started as a house-sitting request eventually became an official question, the next step in this romantic relationship you’ve cultivated for the better part of a year and a half now. When he’d asked, he phrased it as a matter of pragmatism; there was no point in you paying to rent out a flat in Dublin if you were already spending most of your time with him. 

He asked over FaceTime while you watered his indoor plants, and you nearly dropped the glass in your hand as soon as the question left his mouth. 

Two weeks later, your belongings were packed up and moved at Andrew’s behest, and he assured you that, no, this wasn’t putting him out at all, that it was unfair to ask you this question when he wasn’t even home to help you move. Which, fine, sure, that was understandable. But when you questioned him about paying off your broken lease agreement, he merely shrugged and wouldn’t hear your protests. (Secretly, you’re grateful that specific finance won’t burden you, but you still feel guilty that he did it at all.) 

Now, only a few unemptied boxes remain, stacked haphazardly on your side of the closet as you procrastinate having to unpack anything further. Things are starting to feel normal, routine. Home has always been such a nebulous concept, but with Andrew it’s clear, your love and adoration for each other housed within these walls, warm and all-encompassing. 

In his absence, things had been a bit…lonely. Some nights, the stars seemed to align, and the two of you could catch each other alone at off hours, the sun shining through partially closed hotel blinds on the other side of the globe as he talked you through an orgasm. It was a wonderful set-up for what it was, but those moments were few and far between, understandably. 

The problem was that Andrew liked to tease, sending carefully crafted texts at odd hours that made you blush fiercely and slam your phone facedown on the nearest surface while you collected yourself with nervous giggles. It prompted you to return the favour, replying with messages and photos that left him breathless and begging for more. 

But you had things to do, goddamn it, and you couldn’t make a huge production about getting yourself off every time. It was something that buzzed around in your mind one evening after two glasses of wine, a cramped hand, and an unsatisfactory finish—which is exactly how you ended up on a website with a banner that flashed, “DISCREET SHIPPING!” in large font.

A week later, your new friend showed up  in a plain brown box with a nondescript sender on the label. You laughed when you pulled it out, admiring your new, rechargeable wand that had thousands of positive reviews (for good reason, you realized later that evening as you recovered from a 5-minute session with heaving breaths.) 

You haven’t told Andrew about the toy, not for any nefarious reason, but because you honestly haven’t given it much thought. You figure buying a sex toy is pretty low on the list of scandalous things you could procure, especially something as standard as a wand. It isn’t a toy for panache. It’s a utilitarian item meant to provide a rush of dopamine in the shortest amount of time possible. 

“Darling?” His voice floats from the bedroom, light and airy. Amused. 

You leave your coffee on the kitchen counter as you shuffle towards his bedroom. His side of the bed is empty, the blankets left in a crumpled mess, until you spot him kneeling down on your side of the bed.

You furrow your brows as you ask, “Did you need something, baby?” 

Suddenly, Andrew’s head pops up, a mischievous smile on his face as he holds up the toy questioningly. Your face goes hot, your pulse thumping wildly as you look between the toy and him. In your thoughtlessness, you must have left the damn thing out in plain sight.

After a beat, you bring a hand up to cover your eyes, laughing quietly to yourself as he says, “I thought we stored the flannel duvet cover down here, but, erm…this is certainly not a duvet cover.” 

“No, it is not,” you reply, your hand over your mouth now to hide your smile.

“I’ve never seen this before, though. Is it new?” He turns the wand over in his hand, inspecting the smooth, white exterior with raised eyebrows. 

“Mhm,” you nod, rocking up on the balls of your feet and back on your heels. “I wanted something more…efficient while you were gone.” 

He raises an eyebrow in your direction. “Efficient?” 

You nod again. “It’s not always a candlelit, ‘take-your-time’ kind of thing.” 

“And would you say that it is? Efficient, I mean.” 

You watch as he stands, toy still in hand. “I would say so, yeah. Or, at least I won’t get any serious carpal tunnel anytime soon. Hopefully.” You shrug.

Though you haven’t been in a romantic relationship for too long, you’ve known Andrew long enough to read some of his more obvious expressions. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, a true Pisces to the bone, and he can’t hide his obvious fascination and interest in this new discovery. 

Arousal already has you squeezing your thighs together as he hums, “And you never let me watch you use it? What an outrage.” 

“Oh, stop.” You roll your eyes and wave a dismissive hand. “It’s not exactly the sexiest toy in existence.” Because, really, it’s not. It’s clunky, it’s loud, and it’s downright embarrassing if you think too hard about it. 

Andrew smiles, tilts his head with a confused furrow of his brows. “It’s not exactly the product design that gets me going, love.”

You feel your face go hot, giggling nervously as you avert your gaze to the carpet. “Fair enough. It just wouldn’t be much of a show, is all. It’s very, y’know. Straightforward.”

Another pause as he blinks at you. “The show is getting to watch at all, my love.”

You meet his eyes again, lower lip pulled between your teeth as you consider. Arousal already warms your belly, makes you throb with need. It’s been days since you’ve done anything, mostly in anticipation of his return, but the most that’s happened since he got home was showering together before bed. Not that you begrudge him for it. You’ve enjoyed your time curled up next to him in bed, warm and comfortable and safe. 

Finally, you take the toy from his hand before motioning for him to scoot over to his side of the bed, which he does quickly. 

You lay back against a stack of pillows he’s created for you, smiling as he pulls you into a kiss that leaves you breathless. God, you’ve missed him, and his smile, and his laugh, and the way he touches your face when he admires you so openly. 

He lays on his side, head propped in his hand as you shimmy your bottoms off and kick them away. He rests his other hand on your thigh, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin and making you shiver. Then, he begins to wander, hand sliding along your skin until his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants. 

With his help, you tug them down and kick them to the floor. You moan when his fingers run over your slit and dip into you shallowly, coming away slick and shiny as he pulls back. He grabs the wand and holds it out to you like an offering that you take with shaky hands. 

Even the lowest setting of the toy is intense, making you shake and gasp the moment it touches just above your clit. 

“Oh, God,” you huff, already rolling your hips against the feeling. 

His hand is on you again, rubbing at your inner thigh slowly as he watches you. You close your eyes, but you can feel his stare as you try to focus on the vibrations. Something about it is…oddly titillating. You’ve done similar things before, but always with a degree of separation over the phone, over video chat. Never in person, though. Not like this.

Your breath hitches and your eyes fly open as he slips two fingers into you again with ease. 

“Good?” he murmurs, and you can only nod in reply as you adjust the vibrator to give him easier access. 

His movements are slow, methodical, fingers barely curling inside of you until you feel that strange, pleasurable pressure that makes your legs shake. He smiles lazily at you as though it’s a perfectly average morning, as though he’s not currently shoving a third finger into you while you thrust against the feeling. 

“Baby…” You can already feel yourself getting close, that tension beginning to build at the base of your spine. “‘m close…” 

“Keep going,” he murmurs, his own movements never faltering even as you whimper and twitch beside him. “Does that feel good?”

You bite back a whine as you nod again.

He chuckles, the sound low and deep within his chest. “Are you going to be good for me?” 

The question sends searing heat through you as you nod and whisper, “Yes, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, please.”

He’s so warm, so tender even when he’s taking control in his own soft-spoken way. Maybe it’s just something about his nature, needing some semblance of control over any given situation lest he spiral out. Even your phone calls have gone this way, with him giving you soft commands that come off more as suggestions, watching you over FaceTime with a sweet smile while you fall apart at his behest. 

“Will you come for me, angel? It’s been so long since I’ve been able to touch, I just want to feel you…”

The vibrations are almost too much, your vision blurring with tears. You squeeze them shut and chase that rapidly building warmth, rutting against his fingers without abandon until—

“Fuck!” You cry out, hips lifting off the bed as a wave white-hot pleasure crashes over you. You can feel the way you clench down on his fingers as you ride out each wave with breathy gasps and moans, his name falling from your lips like a mantra. 

It’s better than anything you’ve done alone, but isn’t that always the case with Andrew? 

Once he withdraws his fingers, he takes the toy from your hand and shuts it off before tossing it over the edge of the bed. He pulls you into a kiss then, and you practically melt against him as post-orgasmic fatigue begins to set in. 

As he washes his hands, you shuck the rest of your clothing off and throw them into the growing pile on the floor. Andrew seems surprised when he finds you naked and curled up under the blankets, but he’s certainly not displeased as he falls back into bed and collects you in his arms. Kisses are peppered over your face, making you giggle and snuggle closer.

“Impressive,” he says finally as you settle with your head on his chest and a leg thrown over him while he scratches lightly at your back. 

“Hmm?” 

“The wand,” he says lightly. “It’s certainly efficient, like you said. Maybe…we could incorporate it another time?” 

You crack an eye open and look up at him with a sleepy smile. “Yeah, we can do that. Who knows? Maybe I’ll use it on you next time…” 

[pendingnomdeplume]

jealous of the nights i don't spend with you pairing: hozier x female!reader rating: explicit (18+) tags: jealousy, drunken shenanigans, public fingering words: 2.9k author's note: this was just an excuse to write a fic from a jealous Andrew's perspective lmao. title from: Jealous by Labrinth divider by: anitalenia

Andrew isn’t jealous. 

Or, at least, that’s what he vehemently insists when Alex follows his gaze and lands on you and the tall, handsome lad who’s chatting you up across the pub. 

It’s Thursday night in Dublin, and the pub nearest Alex’s flat is surprisingly busy for a weeknight. Tonight’s crowd mostly consists of young, twenty-something college and uni students, with a few groups of older gentlemen situated near the back of the establishment. 

The lad who’s chatting you up probably belongs to the former if his UCD hoodie is anything to go by. 

This wasn’t what Andrew imagined when he invited you to come out with them tonight. He’d hoped it would be a lowkey night, drinking pints and eating chips—great craic and all that. Instead, you’re held up at the bar by some fucking tool with a dazzling smile and dimpled cheeks. 

The lad puts a hand on your arm as he laughs a little too hard at something you’ve said, his abnormally white teeth gleaming even in the dim lighting of the establishment. Andrew rolls his eyes at the multiple rings that adorn his spray tanned fingers. How tacky. How gauche. There’s no way you’re falling for this guy’s schtick, right? You’re probably just being polite. 

“Right,” Alex nods when Andrew says as much. “And this is a perfectly normal, leveled reaction from you.” 

Andrew turns to frown at him. “I should step in.”

“And do what, exactly?” he asks with an exasperated sigh. 

The guy leans into you as he laughs again, but your back is facing Andrew, and he can’t ascertain how you feel about the situation without getting a read on your expression. He tries to read your body language. Are you tense? Are you trying to pull away? It’s hard to tell. (And, sure, okay, maybe he looks at your ass for a second, but only a second, hand to God.) 

“What if she needs help? What if she’s trying to get out of the conversation? I feel like it’d be wrong not to check in.” 

Alex is quiet for a moment as he considers. Then, he rolls his eyes and waves a dismissive hand in Andrew’s direction. “Fine. I guess I can’t argue that point. Go on, then. Go ‘check in’ or whatever. I’m going to stay here and watch this plan go to shit. Cheers.” 

Andrew is already up and out of his seat, ignoring Alex’s comment as he strides towards you like a man on a mission. He rests a hand on your shoulder, feels you jump in response as you whip your head around to stare up at him with wide eyes. But he doesn’t look at you. Instead, he levels an icy stare at the man in front of you, a politely disdainful smile on his lips. 

“Is there a problem here?” 

It comes out before he’s thought it through; the few pints he’s had give him a level of confidence he could never fathom while sober. He’s coming in way too hot, he knows that. Even if he didn’t, the alarmed look on your face tells him that this is not the energy he needs to be slinging right now. Unfortunately, he’s not feeling particularly patient or gracious at this moment.

“Andrew, oh my God,” you laugh nervously, resting a hand on his arm and squeezing firmly as you stare at him with a tight smile.

The man blinks, clearly taken aback by this response. He sets his pint glass down and holds his hands up in surrender, not looking upset so much as bewildered. 

“Whoa, easy there. We were just having a chat. I didn’t know she was spoken for.” 

You bark a laugh, your glare radiating in Andrew’s periphery. “I’m not, actually.”

A flash of understanding crosses the man’s face, and he smirks as he runs a hand over his golden blonde hair. “Ahh, I get it. Bit embarrassing to get so territorial over something that’s not yours, don’t you think, mate? Might want to work on that. Jealousy is an ugly look, after all.” 

Flames lick the sides of his face, the tips of his ears. “It’s not jealousy, mate,” he spits. “I’m just trying to make sure she’s okay.”

His condescending laugh makes Andrew’s shoulders tense, drunken rage beginning to swirl in his gut. 

“The lady is allowed to make her own choices,” the man says easily, eyeing Andrew as though he were sizing him up. “I’m sure she doesn’t need you to be her white knight, yeah?” 

Andrew snorts. “Or, maybe she needs a reason to get away from a fucking dickhead like you—”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Andrew!”  You hiss, tugging on his arm as you begin heading towards the back door to the patio outside. “Outside, now.” 

The man stares, clearly amused as Andrew stumbles after you. He meets Alex’s gaze over his shoulder and frowns as he raises his glass up in a silent, ‘Cheers,’ just as Karen, Saoirse, Caoimhe pull up to the table. 

You’re a lot stronger than you look, though Andrew isn’t actually fighting back. He merely allows himself to be dragged away, the sudden shift in volume making his ears ring the moment you step outside. It’s cool out, a gentle breeze lapping against his heated face and rustling his frizzy curls. The only other people around are a couple at the opposite end of the patio drunkenly shifting as a cigarette burns between one man’s fingers. 

Finally, you come to a halt and turn on him abruptly. “Would you care to explain what the fuck that was about?” 

Andrew pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t trying to be—I just wanted to check in on you. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to that guy.”

He shifts under the weight of your stare. “Then you ask me a damn question, Andrew. You don't come in acting all hostile the way you did. And besides, what made you think I was having a terrible time talking to the guy, hm? Why exactly did you feel the need to come to my rescue? Because I was doing perfectly fine before you decided to cut in and do all of that.”  

The couple at the other end of the patio notices your hushed argument and exchanges uneasy looks. The two men untangle themselves from each other and quietly shuffle back into the pub with sideways glances cast in Andrew’s direction. 

Andrew waits until the door closes behind them before turning back to you with a frown. 

“What, were you actually interested in him? That fucking trust fund, finance bro with a stupid haircut?” Once again, Andrew is unable to hold his tongue, insults tumbling out as you stare at him incredulously. 

“Fascinating that you of all people would be so fucking judgmental. Isn’t that the antithesis of your whole modus operandi, or whatever? I thought you were all about giving people the benefit of the doubt?” 

Andrew scoffs as he folds his arms over his chest. “Oh, please. I know exactly what his type is—he’s a schemy fuckin’ lad who will use you and throw you away before bragging about it to his mates on the football team.” 

“Wow!” You cry, your expression twisted into an almost amused shock. “And what’s your fuckin’ cited source on that, huh? You don’t even know his name, Andrew, so don’t pretend that you’re protecting me from some made-up fuckin’ threat when you’re looking this green around the edges.” 

Irritation buzzes beneath his skin, and fuck, he wishes he had a pack of smokes on him just to have something to do with his hands. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles, gaze averted to the floor now. 

You laugh mirthlessly, throwing your hands up in the air in disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Andrew. Just because you aren’t brave enough to ask me out doesn’t mean you get to act like a fucking prat when someone else shows interest in me! You don’t get to have it both ways!”

Andrew blanches, throat tight as he replies weakly, “What? That’s not…”

“Oh, is it not? So, if I walk back into that bar right now and take that trust fund finance bro home with me, you’d be perfectly fine with that, yeah?” You stride towards him and jab a finger into his chest, seemingly fueled by your own surge of alcohol-induced confidence. “Because I don’t think you would.”

He’s surprised by the heat in your gaze when he finally lifts his head to meet your eyes. Tension has you both strangled and rooted to the spot as you stare at each other defiantly. Andrew tries not to look at your lips, tries to maintain some semblance of a poker face despite the way his cheeks burn. 

“Enlighten me, then,” he hums. “What do you think I’d do, hm? Since you know me so fuckin’ well.”

You move just a fraction closer, your voice going dangerously low as you reply, “I think you’d go home wishing that it was you fucking me and not him.” 

Suddenly, he surges forward, spinning you until your back is pressed firmly against the wall, his arms caging either side of your head as he leans in close. The scent of spiced perfume and bright gin envelops him and makes his head swim as he stares at you with wild eyes and heavy breaths. There’s a small smile on your lips, devilish, mischievous, and he briefly wonders if this was your plan all along. 

That would be just like you, always knowing how to push his buttons. Knowing how to get your way.

“What are you going to do, Andy?” Your taunt is laced with infuriating amusement as your smile turns into a smirk. 

This isn’t right, this isn’t how this should happen. This shouldn’t be happening at all—and it probably wouldn’t were it not for the three cocktails you’d had, and Andrew really should be putting a stop to all of this right fucking now, but he can’t tear his focus away from your lower lip sliding between your teeth. 

He catches your gaze slip, your eyes flitting down to his mouth for only a fraction of a second, but it’s all he needs to close the gap, lips crashing against yours as you throw your arms around his shoulders. Andrew gets a smug sense of satisfaction from your quiet whimper as his hands slip beneath your t-shirt, his thigh pushing between your legs easily. 

And, Jesus Christ, he’s afraid he might pass out as you tangle your hands into his hair, as your tongue slides against his with a fervor that speaks volumes to your own feelings, your own desires that you’ve kept locked away for so long. The small portion of his brain still capable of rational thought wonders how long you’ve wanted this, if you’ve wanted it just as badly as him, if you’ve imagined this scenario a thousand times over the same way he had.

The answers to those questions don’t matter right now, though. Not when you’re kissing his neck and rolling your hips in a bid to find some friction. Some relief. And who is Andrew to deny you that when he’s wanted to pull every string, push every button until you’re falling apart beneath him? 

“We have to be fast,” he mumbles as he works the button of your jeans open and pulls at the zipper before slipping a hand inside. “Can you be quiet?” 

Your breathy laugh is an answer unto itself, and you shrug as you reply, “No promises.” 

And, well. That’s good enough for him. 

You’re already wet, his fingers slipping between your folds easily as he drags them over your swollen clit. He can feel the way you shake, can see your knees wobble as you try to remain steady. Your eyes slip shut and your lips part in a quiet gasp as he presses two fingers into you with little resistance. The sound of your arousal is obvious as he touches you, any sense of brazen smugness gone now as you rut up against the heel of his palm.

“Fuck,” you whine as he circles your clit with slick-covered fingers. The little moans that fall from your lips are titillating, and he can feel the way his cock strains against the fabric of his jeans, twitching with each delicious sound that you can’t bite back. 

Time isn’t on your side, he knows. Every second that passes is a moment closer to getting caught in a compromising position, and that thought really shouldn’t be as exciting as it is. If he had his way, he would take you right here, right now, but he’d rather not end up in a jail cell, nor on any kind of list, and he’s already pushing the envelope by fingering you in a shady corner outside a pub.

You pull him in for another kiss, hot and messy, teeth clicking as you grind against his hand with hiccuped whines. He allows you to take the lead, happy for you to use him and take your own pleasure. 

“Ah!” You cry out, eyes going glassy as you meet his gaze. “Andy, please…” 

He presses back against your every thrust as he coos encouragement and soft assurances in your ear. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” You hide your face in his shoulder as you groan just a touch too loud. “Want you to come for me, darling.”

Your eyes go wide as you gasp sharply, and then he feels it—every spasm and clench of your cunt around his fingers as you grab his hand to keep him where he’s at, riding out your orgasm with heaving breaths and muffled cries. He can hear the string of expletives that you whisper against him, can hear his name interwoven between them as he pulls his hand away with a smirk. 

That same drunk confidence that nearly dissolves his inhibitions has him sucking the sticky mess from his fingers as though it were the remnants of a delicious dessert. You watch him, too stunned to speak. 

When he kisses you again, he wonders if you can taste yourself on his tongue.

The patio door opens mere moments after you’ve zipped and buttoned your jeans, your hands fluffing your mussed hair as Alex pokes his head out with a frown. He blinks, eyes darting between the two of you, and Andrew is sure he must know, sure that his swollen lips and lightly bitten neck must give you both away. 

“Hey,” you greet, giving a nervous little wave as Alex squints suspiciously. 

After a beat, he raises an eyebrow and asks, “Are you two alright?” 

“Yeah, mate,” Andrew replies quickly, maneuvering himself to hide his lower body behind you as he claps his hands on your shoulders in a friendly gesture. “All good.” 

Alex looks at you, eyebrow still raised as he silently asks you the same question. You smile and nod, still fidgeting with your hair as you reply, “Yeah! Yeah. We’re all good here.” 

Whatever Alex thinks, he hides it behind a carefully crafted expression as he nods. “Grand. Well, Stevie and Max just got here, and Karen’s already queued up Jolene for karaoke.” 

“Right, yeah, ehm—! We’ll be in, in just a second!” 

Another pause as Alex stares, then he rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he mumbles before disappearing back inside. 

The door slams shut, and Andrew lets out a breath as you laugh to yourself in relief. 

“So,” you hum, turning back to him with a coy smile. “What was that about you not being jealous?” 

Andrew scoffs, face burning with a flush that makes the tips of his ears go red. He pushes his glasses up in a nervous gesture, laughing quietly as he tries to collect himself. He’s still hard, though the lack of stimulation and the shock of nearly being caught have helped calm the situation, so to speak. Still, he figures he’ll need a minute before he heads back inside, lest he embarrass himself in front of the entire pub. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he huffs, beaming when you lean into him with a laugh. After a beat, you pull back to look at him with a soft smile that makes his heart stutter. It’s a moment he wishes he could frame, a feeling he wishes he could capture in a bottle. What would it be like to wake up to that smile every day? 

Finally, you sigh heavily and turn your attention back towards the door. “Well…I should probably head inside before someone else comes looking for us.” 

Andrew shifts uneasily, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he hunches forward in an effort to conceal his remaining…issue. “I’m going to stay out here a bit longer just to…” He glances downward, then looks back up at you with a shrug and a grimace. 

“Right, yeah, that’s…that’s probably a good idea,” you laugh, your eyes darting down for only a moment before you look up at him with a cheeky smile and a quirked eyebrow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate, but…my folks are out of town if you’d be interested in coming back ‘round mine tonight.” 

He answers all too quickly, “Yeah! I mean—yes, yeah. Absolutely, I would.” 

The smile on your face is deadly as you whisper filthy promises in his ear that make his cock twitch with renewed interest. And then you’re striding away, throwing a little wave over your shoulder as heat courses through him, irritation flowing in equal measure. But fondness stirs there, too, warming his chest as he watches you leave, stomach fluttering in delight as you blow a kiss in his direction and wink before finally disappearing inside.

[pendingnomdeplume]

Hi, I'm Scout!

Late 20s | they/them | Hozier RPF Writer

I used to run a blog under this name, and then I blew it up for personal reasons. I very much regret doing so, and I decided that maybe it's time to finally come back for realsies.

Requests are currently CLOSED for the holidays.

FICS

This Silly Schoolboy Crush Wasn't Just Pretend (Surprise Reunion; Rated: M)

A Rúnsearc (Beloved) (Fake/Pretend Relationship; Rated: E)

Hotline (Phone Sex; Rated E)

Honor Bound (Sequel to Hotline; Rated E)

SOS (Rescue) (RomCom Antics; Rated E)

PROMPTS

#sailor scout prompts

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