#byrne x reader

[love-toxin]

hyrule spice <3 (rauru, byrne, tauro, link)

(general cws: graphic smut, fem/afab pronouns, breeding, knotting, hylian/zonai relations, pet names/name calling, dirty talk, degradation, squirting, fingering, overstim, bondage, unprotected sex, rough sex)

rauru of hyrule

Rauru never falters, never hesitates. He wants you and you're his. There's no fighting it--there simply can't be any doubt that you have his love.

But as the king of Hyrule, he has a duty to fulfill. Marriage, family, continuance of the royal bloodline...you understand, don't you? Even as a Hylian, you must. As a man and a Zonai, he has needs.

One of those needs, especially when faced with a pretty Hylian like yourself, is to breed.

"Ah, ah, ah--ahnnnngh-!" Is it you now, is it him? Who even cares at this point, you're basically the same being by now; bodies intertwined and moving in unison, every shuffle dictated by Rauru's massive Zonaite body towering over yours. Both his furry, clawed hands rest over yours, palms dwarfing your tiny Hylian fingers as he plants his body firmly into every thrust. The thin, fuzzy layer of hair that protects his cock is now coated in your arousal, sticky and slick from the pounding you've taken so all that rings in your ears is a hefty plap plap plap from behind as you take his thrusts.

Rauru once apologized to you, when you met, about his "off-putting" appearance. His ears, his claws, his snout that makes it difficult to kiss, his fur and his tail...he doesn't apologize for it anymore. He knows now that he doesn't have to, not when he gives you treatment like this.

"Forward," He snarls into your ear, gone mad with the weight of his lust and the frenzy of his mid-month heat. His teeth could rip the flesh from your bones, yet even in this state he uses them only to pierce the sweetest of claiming bites into your throat and down your spine. "Bend...until you break."

He can't be satiated by thought alone. Nor even the touch of his own hands, or a concubine if he owned one. It can only be you. Only your soft, squishy flesh rubbing up against his fur, your hands pinned beneath his claws, and your womb pierced on the tip of his thick, knot-heavy cock that's just begging to lock itself within your cunt and never let go.

Those claws dig painfully into your back, yet it doesn't dissuade you, and he loves that. He loves that at the end of the day, you'll submit to your king as he forces you to the sheets and pins your hips under his, his knot swelling and swelling until he finally breaches that soft place and all becomes right with the world. Through the pain you still adore him, and through the pleasure even more so.

Now, it's just a matter of soothing your bruised, marked-up body with his voice and his doting touch, with kisses and whispers of love and promises of all the gorgeous gifts he's going to present to you, as a token of gratitude for allowing the first of the Zonai to mate with the first Hylian--and person--he's ever truly loved.

byrne the dueling spirit

One hundred years. One hundred years of hard labour, training, and agony. Loneliness and isolation and anger, fury building itself up and up and up until it boils, begging to be let out on anyone close enough to make a decent punching bag.

Byrne doesn't know love. Never has, never feels like he ever will--he only knows pain and weakness, the desire to grow stronger clawing at him like a ravenous dog. Maybe that's why he finally lets loose on you. You were within reach. Never said no, never gave him anything but a smile.

And you're regretting it now, he bets. Because you have a muscled, weighty beast of a man on top of you, and you can feel the way he's learning this kind of touch for the first time as well as you can see clouds in the sky.

Or could, if you didn't have your face forced into your pillow, back arched so deeply the sweat pools like a puddle in the dip of your back. And it shakes and spills with the creaking of your bedframe, your down mattress squealing for mercy as Byrne forces you down and bullies your pussy into submission.

"Shut up." He groans, as if his bandana hasn't been balled up and stuffed into your mouth to quiet your incessant noises. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't say anything. But he can't help but tease you...can't help but make you wish you'd never invited him back to your house in the first place. "....Useless bitch." He grumbles, the smirk on his face going unnoticed as your lust-numbed brain leaks out your ears. Your pussy's cute, but it won't let him go--and even when he tries, your body just sucks him back in like you can't go a minute without being fucked.

But it just gives him the chance to put that metal arm to good use. It isn't rubbing or pinching he uses to his advantage, but a cold, hard, wet slap against your clit that finally shocks you enough to let him go--just barely enough to slide out before you clench down on the tip, though, and your muscles won't loosen as if you've been made to have a vice grip most inconveniently. He's gotta go. "Can't stick around fucking you all day. Let go."

Pop. With a deep, clingy squelch, he's finally pulled free from your soaking wet, tight as hell abyss, contrary to your whines and squirmy wiggling that beg him sweetly for more. To stay.

You're pretty and all. He likes you, and he doesn't like anyone. But he can't stay....and you can't get too attached to him, or else you're just gonna end up heartbroken.

But, maybe...maybe he can spare you a little dignity and make you finish. He thinks as he slides his cockhead through your folds again, unaware of just how hard he's falling in love as he sinks back in.

tauro the scholar

Your scholar is a nightmare because he won't let anything just lie. He needs answers. Evidence. Scientific proof. He needs logic and deciphered clues to figure out life's greatest mysteries.

Hence why he's doing today's case study on your soft, cute, and sensitive little pussy.

"Subject-responds-to-stimuli-even-under-duress," He speaks softly as his free hand scribbles out his notes on the pad between his feet, his fingers on the other hand buried deep within your twitching, stretched pussy lips. The 'stimuli' being him, and 'duress'....well, emotional duress counts. Especially when you've orgasmed 8 times today. "I believe in you, baby." Tauro replies cheerfully to your fucked-out groans, a smile permanently etched on his lips as he curls his fingers deep into your cervix. "I can make you ejaculate today! We're almost there!"

Somehow the sterile language he likes to use--which would normally be a bit of a mood killer in bed--just doesn't faze you anymore with Tauro. He's a bit of a kook, a cute airhead with the kind of knowledge the Sheikah themselves would kill for. A sweet, silly man who likes to tease.

A man who isn't intimidated by the pulses of your pussy nor the jerk of your hips as the pressure pushes down on your bladder, who positions his face right up close between your legs despite you gasping out that you feel like you're gonna pee. Embarrassment is nothing to him.

"That's what it's supposed to feel like."

He growls with an eager grin, fucking your cunt even faster with those thick fingers that's toe-curling but not yet cusping on painful. The bristly hairs on his freshly-shaved chin rub your soaked skin as he leans in, laving his huge, hot tongue over your tortured clit that's been messed with like a hot button all day today.

It's only when your shaking hips and arched back come to a standstill that he's finally satisfied--drenched in your juices, his face glistening as he talks you through and urges you to "let it all out baby, give everything to me" until you're squirting just like he told you he'd make you do for him.

Rarely have you seen such satisfaction on his face upon finding the answer he was looking for. Each tremor comes as he eases more out of you, every gasp and spurt of fluid getting him more excited about the results. You drench him from head to lap and he couldn't be more ecstatic, licking every bit he can get off his fingers and his palm as he looks up at you through hooded eyes.

"Now..." He pants, hair slicked down and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he laps up the droplets sticking to your folds as you tremble. "...Let's see if you can do that again, hm?"

link the hero

Link needs very few, simple things in life to coexist with reality. Those are primarily food, warmth, sunshine...and sex.

Poor hero. All he needs is an orgasm or two to get him back into the fight when he's exhausted from his toils. That's not so much to ask for, right?

That's where you come in. Such a pretty thing--and such a nice girl to help him out when he's in need. Link can show up on your doorstep night or day, rain or shine, healthy or half-dead, and to see you let him in and give him a place to put his feet up makes him feel like he's in love.

And whatever ails him is sure to clear up with a dose of your sweet, slick pussy that he swears was moulded just for him.

"Ha...ha...hah, ah-!" Link huffs out as he comes to a close again, hips bucking violently from below as he lets those animal instincts run wild with you. He can't be stopped, hence why you have to use those handy Lynel-silver shackles to cuff him to your bed, all so he won't break free in the heat of the moment and start fucking you rabidly on the floor of your cottage. Not like that's ever happened before, and he accidentally traumatized your milkman when he came knocking on the door....

"D-Don't strain, Link..." You gasp, his cum flooding down your thighs from hours upon hours of rabid coming-home-from-battle sex. "You'll hurt yourself."

Link doesn't talk much as it is, but the wobbly grin and the rolling back of his eyes in his head serves well enough to say what he thinks about that sentiment. Don't care. Need to blow my load. That's what's written all over his expression, and you can't say you're much surprised...or disappointed.

"Fine," You sigh, swirling your hips in deep circles to slow his thrusts--and to remind him of how much he's at your mercy now, no matter how strong of a warrior he is out on the field of battle. Your chuckle causes his back to arch up off the bed, his wrists pulling hard at the cuffs while his heart nearly beats out of his chest. "Then be a good boy and cum already. I've got a mess to clean up."

Link growls, that feral growl that only comes out when he's really, desperately in need of release. He starts thrusting more violently, his hips barely meeting the mattress anymore as he chases that pleasure against your womb--against that blasted little wall that feels like heaven but constantly stops him from shooting ropes right into the source of that ecstasy he loves. Maybe one day.

For now, it only stops once you've had your cervix appropriately bruised, and he's made you slump over him in a panting, gasping mess as his seed flows out of you and into his sweaty lap. Maybe he doesn't need Hyrule, Hylia's blessing, or the Master Sword, or anything anymore.

Maybe all he needs in this world is you.

[beat-the-morning]

AFTER-CONCERT FEAST

Rating: +18

Relationships: Hozier/Reader

Contents: no y/n, oral sex (f! recieving), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dry humping, accidental orgasm, (by this I mean he starts mindlessly humping the couch

Word count: 1.7k

SUMMARY: After Hozier, your boyfriend, calls you backstage after a concert he eats you out like a starving man and cums after mindlessly dry humping the couch while doing so.

Fic under the cut💜

The concert had ended, and you were making your way backstage with a security guard in front of you. Andrew, your boyfriend, had sent them to get you, and your mind couldn't stop racing with how he’d looked at you while he sang. How his eyes lit up when he saw you in the crowd, the little smile that escaped him, that verse he messed up on when you winked at him. You could have sworn that he didn’t take his eyes off you for the rest of the concert once he noticed you.

“Here,” the security guard said, opening the door to Andrew’s dressing room. You smiled at them and nodded as a thank you before stepping in. He was waiting for you, leaning on the vanity with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Close the door, it’s fine.” He told the security guard, the door closed behind you and you smiled. He practically bounced off the vanity and onto you with how fast he took you into his arms and lifted you off the floor in a spinning hug. “What are you doing here?” He asked as he finally lowered you from his embrace.

“Came to see you,” you answered with a grin.

Andrew chuckled, then started kissing your face with every pause he took from speaking. “Yes, but why? Weren’t you visiting your parents this week?”

“Yes, but you having a concert in the same city distracted me a little.” You giggled, his beard tickling you.

“Oh, forgot your parents lived here,” he looked down at you with loving eyes that turned to confusion the second he realised what you had done. “Wait, so you bought a ticket, queued for God knows how long-”

“Twelve hours.” You interrupted him

“Twelve hours?” His eyes widened at that fact. “You did that, when you could've called me and gotten in faster and also seen me before the concert?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to surprise you!” You smiled. “And I wanted to see if you'd notice me in the crowd.”

“Well I did, couldn't take my eyes off you,” he kissed your lips.

“I know,” you kissed back. “There's going to be a million tiktoks asking who you were looking at.”

“I don't-” he stopped his sentence halfway through once he saw your shirt. “Are you wearing my shirt?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking, he already knew the answer.

“No.” You lied, as it was, in fact, his shirt that he had accidentally left at your house the last time he saw you.

“You definitely are.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you teased, he rested a hand on your hip, his thumb making small circles on your skin.

“I’m sure you don’t.” His other hand rested on your cheek, caressing it gently.

Then he kissed you again, not letting go this time, you got on your tip-toes and wrapped your arms around his neck. He lowered himself lightly and bit your lower lip, you moaned in response. He broke the kiss and guided you to the couch where he pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. You kissed him again, more passionate this time, almost hungrily, his hands explored the skin under your shirt, revelling in your warmth.

You explored each other's mouths, delighting in the taste you had so missed, the way his beard scratched your face felt like heaven, his hands travelled to your hips and ground you against him, you could feel his hardening cock rubbing against you and he could hear your whimpers every time your clit got the slightest bit of friction. He slowly lifted you up and changed the pose you were both in, setting you on the couch, and taking off your shirt and bra, promptly discarding them on the floor next to him.

Andrew's lips left your mouth and moved down from your jawline to your waistband, leaving bites and hickeys on his way, he was giving you goosebumps with the way he caressed your body so lovingly, worshipping every curve, every mole and little imperfection, as you called them, seemed like gold in his eyes, like beautiful stars in a sky only he could see. Once at your hips, he looked up at you with lustful eyes, “I need to taste you, so fucking badly,” he whispered, “but I need you to be quiet, can you do that for me, baby?”

“You know the answer to that,” you answered with a grin, already kicking off your shoes.

“Yeah, I do,” he smiled back, quickly kissing you one last time before he unzipped your shorts and pulled them off completely along with your panties, throwing them to the floor as soon as they were off you, joining the rest of your clothing. He kissed his way up your thighs, resting your legs on his shoulders. He looked up at you with his beautiful green eyes, pupils dilated to a point where they looked black, silently begging you to give him the final go-ahead before he lost himself in you.

You nodded, he smiled.

He dove into you like a starving man having his first meal in weeks, lapping up your juices and drinking you. You arched your back in pleasure. He licked from your entrance up to your clit, pressing his tongue to it just to flick it right after, you bit your lip in an attempt to quiet down, but it barely worked. His tongue worked at you expertly, he knew exactly what to do to make you squirm under his touch. His tongue travelled down from your clit to your entrance, where he lost himself and moaned just with your taste. Your breathing hitched at the sight of him eating you out, completely enamoured with his eyes closed. He was moaning as he fucked you with his tongue. As his nose rubbed on your clit just right, you thanked God for giving him a big one.

You moved his long curls out of his face, he looked up at you. Your breathing stopped for a second as he rubbed his nose against your clit while smiling into your cunt, in blinding lust you grabbed a fistful of his hair and started grinding your hips against his face. You could've sworn you heard him chuckle. The way he was holding onto your hips was sure to leave bruises later on, you didn't care one bit, you were too focused looking into his eyes and the way they were full of lust and admiration for you. How he kept eating you out even as you held his head in place and basically used him.

He was so hard it was starting to become painful, so he started rubbing himself against the couch, and God did it feel good, he started moaning into your pussy, your taste was driving him crazy, the little sounds that escaped you while he devoured you just got him harder and harder. He left your hole to go back up to your clit, sucking on it and pressing his tongue against it while one of his hands left your hip just for two of his fingers to enter your cunt seconds later, your hips buckled against him again, he placed your clit between his teeth and lightly pressed in response. Your legs started shaking when he did that, you had to place a hand over your mouth to not scream. He fingered you faster, curling his fingers into you and hitting your sweet spot.

He continued like this for a while, making a whimpering mess out of you, and thankfully, today he didn't seem to have the need to edge you endlessly until you were begging for release, he needed this as much as you, maybe even more. He was still rubbing against the couch, but he didn't notice he was doing it, he was too occupied getting you to your own high to care for himself at the moment. You were almost there, his fingers replaced his tongue on your clit, rubbing it rapidly. His mouth moved to your entrance, he knew you were close, and he wanted to taste every drop of your release.

You came with a loud moan that was thankfully muffled by your own hand, your vision went white and your legs trembled. Andrew drank you in, letting you ride out your high as he moaned into your pussy, and then you noticed his hips. He was desperately dry humping the couch, what a sight that was, you could tell he wasn't even noticing he was doing it, suddenly his hips buckled repeatedly and he was groaning into your cunt as he drank the last of you, his eyes were closed and his hand that was still grabbing you was doing so in a way that you were surprised it wasn't breaking skin. He'd come, just from eating you out, the thought made you giggle.

He kissed your clit one last time before pulling his head out from between your legs, his hair was a mess and the lower part of his face was glistening with your juices, he was panting heavily. “I- I didn't notice I was-” He said with heavy breaths, but you interrupted before he finished.

“Humping the couch while eating me out?” You asked in a teasing voice. A smirk plastered on your face.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “made a fuckin’ mess.”

“It's not noticeable from here.” You assured him.

“Good,” he leaned closer to you, hovering his body over yours, one hand held him up while the other found your waist. “Tank you for letting me do this, baby.” He kissed you gently, his accent thicker than before.

“Thank you for doing it.” You smiled.

“I love you so much,” he murmured between kisses, “my perfect girl, so fuckin' beautiful.”

“I love you too,” you kissed him back, “I should get dressed though.”

“Hmm, fine, but I'm keeping these until I see you next time.” He said, grabbing your panties from the pile of your clothes from the floor and keeping them in his hand.

“No, you're not, give them back!” You feigned annoyance, thinking he'd give them back.

“Would you rather I take back my shirt, then?”

“What would I wear then? I didn't bring a jacket.”

“Exactly, so these,” he held up your panties again, “are for me.” He placed them in his pocket right after.

“You’re horrible.” You fake pouted.

“You love me.” He grinned while handing you the rest of your clothes.

“You're lucky I do.”

“I know.”

[padfootagain]

Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Pairing : Hozier x fem!reader

Professor! AU

Warnings: hurt-comfort, angst, fluff, no smut but suggestive scenes so 18+ only

Chapter 1 : 'And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do just lately'

Chapter 2 : 'Through me the way to the City of Woe'

Chapter 3 : ‘I miss him in the wheeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide’

Chapter 4 : ‘For he gave all his heart and lost’

Chapter 5 : ‘But here comes the lyrebird passing through the sky’

Chapter 6 : ‘I’ll lie here and learn how, over their ground, trees make a long shadow and a light sound’

Chapter 7 : 'And so I still wait, like a lonely house, for you to see me and inhabit me again. Until that time, my windows ache.'

Chapter 8 : 'I hope she never learns how to peel oranges'

Chapter 9 : 'I think I will always be lonely in this world, where the cattle graze like a black and white river-- where the vanishing lilies melt, without protest, on their tongues'

Chapter 10 : '[I] was angry that my trust could not repose in the clear light, like poetry or freedom leaning in from sea'

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Chapter 12 : 'Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again'

Chapter 13: ‘So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.’

Chapter 14: ‘Why should I blame her that she filled my days with misery’

Chapter 15: ‘He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets in water?’

Chapter 16 : ‘Only the things I didn’t do crackle after the blazing dies’

Chapter 17 : ‘Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open’

Chapter 18 : ‘What the devil do I care what I know, and what I say?’

Chapter 19: ‘I knew winter cold like the nuzzle of fjords at my thighs’

Chapter 20 : 'My heart has made its mind up and I’m afraid it’s you'

Chapter 21: ‘I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love’

Chapter 22 : ‘And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere’

Chapter 23 : 'Even the dearest that I loved the best are strange – nay, rather, stranger than the rest'

Chapter 24: ‘Sometimes, when I’m pleased, I let out a little sound. A poet noticed this and it made me feel I might one day properly be loved. Because no one is here to love me, I make tea for myself and leave the radio playing’

Chapter 25: ‘They will think of ways to make you smile so you can be happy for a while’

[nevergonnaloveagain-hey]

Hozier Dating Headcannons

He would definitely love to date someone who is more of an old soul, someone who loves older literature or music 

Expect regular serenades after he writes songs about you and personal concerts when you ask to hear a certain song. These moments would probably be very intimate and would just happen in the comfort of your home together.

You would be the first to hear any new ideas he has for his music and would read you his lyrics, asking you what you think he should change. And of course, you can’t think of anything that could make it any better since it is already so beautiful which infuriates him to no end (he loves you tho)

He seems like the kind of partner to go all out for anniversaries or birthdays and would set up really special dates and surprise outings, always making sure that you are comfortable and having fun. He would probably take you to secluded places surrounded by nature where you can just enjoy each other's company with no one else around.

He would hand write you beautiful letters especially when he is going away on tour or if he is going to be having a late night in the studio and won’t see you for a while

He values his privacy and would most likely keep your relationship lowkey and private. He wouldn’t hide you and wouldn’t hesitate to talk about you a little every now and then but he also wouldn’t tell everyone too much about your relationship, he likes to keep certain things to himself.

He would support you in everything that you do, whether it’s just a project that you have taken up or if it is something for work, he would be right behind you at all times cheering you on. If you start to doubt yourself, he would be the one to tell you how well you are doing and would motivate you 

He has a lot of appreciation for you especially since he knows it can be difficult to be with him when he is really focused on his music or if he is touring. So he would always express how thankful he is that you are there for him, even during tough times.

Considering his love for art and literature, he would love to take you on little museum or gallery dates and would definitely tell you the backstory of certain pieces if you seemed interested. He would also take note of the kind of books, poems or art you like and would give you unique gifts inspired by this.

Despite his fame, he is very grounded and values his private time and time with family, so he would love a partner who listens and values your opinions and alone time together. He would love to see you with his family and is in love with how much his parents and friends adore you.

If you’re not Irish, he would love to introduce you to certain foods or traditions from Ireland. He is always really excited to see your reaction to trying Irish snacks/drinks and remembers what you like or dislike

He is a big ‘I remember you said you like this, so i got it for you’ partner. He remembers everything about you, from your favourite food to your favourite songs or movies and even your favourite piece of jewelry

He is a very emotional guy and at first he struggles to open up to you but as your relationship grows, he becomes more comfortable being himself around you and knows you would never judge him just like how he would never judge you. Once he becomes fully comfortable with you, there is not one thing he wouldn't tell you and never hides anything from you. He trusts you with everything.

As I said he is a very private guy, so he wouldn’t be a big fan of PDA but as your relationship goes on, he will start to be more open about it and will show you off whenever he can. He loves hand holding and will periodically kiss your temple and or the back of your hand when you are out

Part 2!!

[mabelstone]

Imagine Being Loved by Me

hozier x f! reader

part three of lullabies <3 | part two | masterlist

cw: 18+, nothing too serious but a bit teeeny bit of smut

word count: 3.2k

taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure

Three weeks have gone by since I walked in on Joe piledriving another woman in my bed.

Three weeks ago after a beautiful morning of jazz music, pancakes, and instant coffee, Andrew drove me back to my house to pick up my car. I sent him away with an earnest hug, putting on my bravest face as I let myself inside. No shit, there were rose petals on nearly every inch of floor board. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, instead, tiptoed upstairs into my room. Joe was asleep in bed, and I nearly tasted my breakfast for a second time that morning. Instantly, I felt nauseated, the type that makes you hot and dizzy and want to run away and never come back.

I pushed the feeling back down, determined to grab all my shit and forget this tainted cell of a house I once loved more than anything. Furiously, I began stuffing all of my clothes into a suitcase. Then in another bag, I took everything that belonged to me; sheets, towels, everything down to the last teabag. I was fuelled with rage, huffing and puffing my way around the house, lugging my bags out to my car. Oh, fuck. My keys.

Where are my car keys?

I searched the house like a mad woman, tearing apart the couches, looking in every cupboard and under every piece of furniture. Nothing. I called Andrew, asking if I'd had them at the bar, as if he'd know the answer if I didn't. "Ehm... just your house keys? I tink..."

"I tink you're no help," I mocked, hanging up with the briefest of smiles before I was playing detective again. I searched for nearly an hour before caving in and waking Joe.

I shook his shoulder roughly, standing back with my arms crossed once he finally stirred awake.

"Mmm..." He groaned, and I waited patiently with a scowl for him to realise it was me and not some broad off the street. "Oh, you're finally home."

"Where are my keys?" I deadpanned, fuse shorter than ever. I wasn't in the mood for the slightest conversation with him.

"I missed you so much, babe," he sighed, pulling my stiff body into a hug. I peeled myself away from him, repeating myself.

"Where are my keys, Joe? I left them in the fruit bowl, and now they are gone."

"Let's talk first before we make any hasty decisions," he coaxed, pulling me by my wrists onto the bed beside him. "I can't explain how sorry I am."

"Joe, please."

"I've been up all night crying, my heart is broken," he sighed emphatically, taking my hand into his. Oh, you're the heartbroken one? "I can't imagine a life without you."

"You weren't thinking that way when you were fucking the girl you met at my show."

"You hadn't had sex with me in weeks! I was getting desperate-"

"Just stop," I barked, throwing his hand off of me. "Give me my car keys so I can leave. This doesn't need to be any harder than you've already made it."

After minutes of brutally painful back and forth, he gave me the keys to his safe. I unlocked it to find my keys and an open jewellery box with a sparkling engagement ring. He was sitting on the bed, eyes filled with optimism, and I almost fell for it.

My phone buzzed and I saw a message from Andy.

You haven't crashed your car have you? X

I took my keys and closed the safe, turning on my heels out of the bedroom.

"Um, what the fuck?" Joe called out as he followed close behind me, roughly grabbing at my arm when I was halfway out the front door. "I just proposed to you, and you don't even have the decency to say no?"

"No," I replied, unlocking my car and tossing my bags into the boot.

"What? Babe, don't throw this away," he began to cry, clearly panicked.

"I haven't thrown anything away. You have." I shoved him away by his chest, just about ready to boil over with anger. "You have destroyed any shred of trust I had in you. It's over, Joe."

My tough act began to slip as my voice shook, climbing into my car and slamming the door shut before he could see how hard this really was on me. He screamed something inaudible at me as I drove away, and I watched him sob into his hands from the rearview mirror.

I cried the entire drive to my mums, ignoring the hundreds of calls I missed from him.

Andrew and I continued to spend time together. I spent many nights at my mums place while I tried to look for a house. I didn't have rental history as Joe wouldn't put me on the lease... because I didn't have rental history. "Babe, it'll just make everything harder," was once his excuse.

When my step dad would get unbearable, Andrew would invite me to spend the night. These nights would frequently begin with me sobbing about how broken hearted I was, and end with him and I snuggling on the couch to a movie. Innocent enough, sure. But after weeks of abstinence following six years of frequent sex, I was pent up. So pent up to the point where I would have to excuse myself for some time alone with his retractable shower head. Many of my thoughts of Andrew were so explicit, you'd think they were from the brain of a teenage boy who'd plough through two boxes of tissues a day. This of course left me feeling inexplicably guilty and beyond confused.

Tonight, we drank wine and sang cheesy duets together. We clumsily danced and laughed until we cried. He had the coordination of a newborn giraffe, and though I'd never admit it to him, I wasn't much better. He drunkenly rambled about how in a perfect world, he'd own a cottage in Wicklow and keep bees. I told him how I'd be a florist who sold my Irish friends' honey.

As if routine now, we'd share a blanket on the couch and watch a movie. Last night was Superbad, tonight was Inception. Andrew mindlessly carded his fingers through my hair, and with the comfort that brought me mixed with the wine, I was out to it within minutes.

His beard tickled the inside of my thigh as he continued to bite and suck at the sensitive skin, eyes boring holes into mine with a devilish grin.

"C'mon, Andy," I whined, throwing my head back in frustration. I closed my legs over his head, desperate to feel his mouth on me where I needed it viscerally.

"Patience, darlin'," he tsked at me, spreading my legs wide before him again. "Look so fuckin' gorgeous right now."

"Please, just touch me," I begged, reaching a new peak of arousal that was actually causing me pain. "Anything, just fucking touch me!"

He just chuckled, locking his arms around my thighs, pulling me closer to his face. He continued to place hot, wet opened mouthed kisses along my thighs, his beard scratching over my clit for a split second, and I swore I was on the brink of orgasm immediately. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, impatience taking full control of my autonomy.

He licked a languid stripe up my clit, causing me to let out a guttural moan, arching my back beneath him. He pushed me back down by my hips, one hand easily reaching my breast as he toyed with my nipple.

"Fuck, Andy," I cried, eyes screwing shut as every single nerve ending of mine came alive.

"Look at me," he ordered, the low rumble of his voice vibrating against my core. Without warning, my orgasm rippled through me, each nerve erupting like fireworks as I chanted his name.

I woke up panting, taking a moment to realise I was laying with Andrew on the couch. And processing the fact that I actually just orgasmed in my sleep.

"What's a'matter?" His voice was soft and concerned as he turned his head to face me.

"Weird dream," I laughed breathlessly, heart still pounding in my chest. This happened far too often. I almost wanted to spill my guts and confess everything he made me feel.

"Dreamin' of me, huh?" He grinned down at me, and I felt my cheeks burn.

A moment's silence.

"What?" Please tell me I wasn't moaning his name in my sleep.

"I'm jokin'," he laughed, averting his eyes back to the TV. "Unless you were."

I laughed along too, though in my head I was screaming. 'Unless you were,' what the fuck does that mean?

The credits rolled over the screen and like routine, we got off the couch and went to our separate rooms. Except this time, my heart didn't settle, and I didn't get much sleep.

We went about our days as usual, as if I didn’t fantasise about him every waking moment. I worried that I was catching feelings, and catching them far too fast for someone who'd only just gotten out of a 6 year relationship.

I couldn’t help it. I was infatuated. Infatuated was an understatement. I was completely and utterly enamoured by Andrew. I wanted to be in his presence every moment I could. I often told little white lies so I could spend the night, even though our we remained within a strictly friends only basis.

He was kinder than any man I’d ever met, insisting on having to open every door for me, sending me off to bed with a glass of water each night, and waking me with coffee just how I liked. He was gentle and tentative, always fast at identifying cues when I was upset.

But that’s all we were - just friends.

I began to crave his touch, desperate for any opportunity to feel his skin on mine. He’d often play me a new song he’d written, and I’d watch on with hearts for eyes as his skilled fingers worked his guitar effortlessly.

I saw it in his eyes too, sure he wanted me how I wanted him. I dreamt of climbing into his lap, kissing him until my lips were swollen or until he couldn’t take it anymore and we’d need to take off our clothes to satiate our desires.

But I couldn’t.

When it felt like we were moving in that direction, I’d turn ice cold. Though my heart was begging me to love him how he deserved, my brain knew this was probably just a rebound. And someone with a heart as golden as Andy's didn’t deserve the hell grief I’d cause him.

So I brushed off each pet name as if hearing them didn’t cause my stomach to do acrobats. I treated each night on the couch as if we were simply best friends who enjoyed each others' company. As though there was no other option than spooning on the couch where his scent became hardwired into my brain. I’d act as if I couldn’t feel his hard on pressing into the small of my back most nights. I’d pretend I’d have no idea what he was really doing when he’d have to excuse himself halfway through the movie to ‘make a call.’ It’s just how it worked for us.

And often, I wondered if it was torturing him as much as it was me.

We pulled up at the venue, Andrew of course opening my door for me, offering me his hand as I stepped out onto the kerb. I thanked him and we headed in together, turning a few heads as we did so. Not that this was unusual, he was 6’6” and painfully handsome, after all. He’d also given himself quite the name, rumours of a few producers attending tonight in hopes of setting him a deal.

“Remember me when you’re famous and touring the world without me,” I fake pouted, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

“Well obviously, nobody forgets their muse,” he bumped his shoulder into mine, that cheeky grin stretched across his face. “Besides, I owe you that much for giving me something to write about.”

I nearly choked on my drink, raising my eyebrows at him. “And what songs are written about me, hm?”

“The monster mash?” He kept a straight face, giving me that duh look at the same time.

“Oh, shut up, Andrew.” I laughed, acutely aware of the man who just sat beside me. “I’m being serious! It'd make me happy to know.”

“You’ll know when you hear ‘em, baby,” he grinned, throwing back his glass of champagne. Baby. My heart leapt from me, and in that moment I was grateful that he wouldn’t have noticed the deep blush splattered across my cheeks. He was too busy claiming another round of free drinks for us.

“Please tell me that’s your brother or something,” the man sat beside me spoke up, chocolate brown eyes so endearing, thick American accent on his lips.

"I sure hope not," I joked. His face fell, and I realise how that could've been misconstrued. "No- he's not my boyfriend either. We just sing together."

He put his hands together in prayer, looking up to the roof, mouthing, 'thank you, God.' I laughed at him, shaking my head. He had dark brown curls similar to Andy's, his were just more tame and much shorter. Full lips that twisted into a dopey smile, and if I weren't so confused with my emotions, I'd have jumped into a cab and gone home with him without a second thought. "I'm Will," he introduced himself, shaking my hand.

"Y/N," I blushed when he kissed my knuckles, wondering where the hell Andy had run off to. "Where are you from?" I attempted to avert the conversation, regaining ownership of my hand.

"Colorado," he smiled, signalling to the bartender that he wanted to order another round. "And you're a singer?"

"Uh... well I sing, yes," I giggled, the three prior glasses of bubbles gone to my head. "I wouldn't label myself a singer as such."

"Well aren't you just the cutest thing," he grinned, slipping his hand onto my thigh.

"I uh," I stammered, struggling to find the words. "That's very kind," my eyes searched the room for Andy. He towered over mostly everybody wherever we were, standing out like a sore thumb. But for some reason, he was nowhere to be found right when I needed him.

"I'm only in town for the night," he leaned in close to me, his breath hot in my ear, and his hand only getting warmer on my thigh. "Once you're done your little performance, why don't you come back to my hotel and give me an encore?"

Like the Gods had intervened, a familiar calloused hand was grabbing my arm. "C'mon, we gotta go backstage." I looked up to Andy, his expression rigid, bordering on disgust and anger.

"Oh, okay," I nodded, hopping up from my stool, Will's hand quickly retracted. "Uh, see you," I smiled awkwardly, Andrew's grip still around my arm.

"Here's your drink," he let me go, handing my glass to me.

"You saved me, Andy," I laughed, glancing back at the man who'd already moved onto his next victim. "Total wanker."

"Mhm," he hummed, not even looking at me as we made our way backstage.

"Everything alright?" I prodded, his expression unchanging. He didn't reply, instead opened the door to the green room for me. We weren't at our usual bar tonight. We'd been invited to perform at a decently size theatre that just so happened to be full of producers, offering free drinks for the performers. Maybe not the best combination.

The green room was alive with seven or so other musicians, all mingling amongst each other as they awaited their turns. There was a table lined with finger food, and a minibar with premixed drinks. Andrew had made a beeline straight for the snacks table. Typical.

"Um, hello?" I whisper shouted to him, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. "Is there a reason you're ignoring me? Is it because of that bloke? Because I-"

"Yes," was all he replied, taking his food to one of the couches with him.

"Okay," I was surprised with how forward he was, sitting down beside him, honestly perplexed by his rigidity. "...Why?"

"I didn't like the way he was talking to you," he shrugged, still avoiding my eye contact. "He was disrespectful."

"So... why are you icing me out, exactly?"

"I will say the wrong things, better to say nothin'."

This was unlike any way I'd seen him act before. Cold, annoyed... jealous? Surely not.

"Well, I'm sorry I- or he made you feel this way."

"Andrew Hozier-Byrne? You're on in two minutes," one of the stage hands announced, nursing his clipboard on his hip like a baby. "And we're still going ahead with the song change?"

Andy nodded, having a quick drink of water and tossing his rubbish away.

"Song change?" I questioned, following behind him. I made sure to watch every performance of his, even if it meant being amongst the audience when I wasn't also performing.

"Oh, yeah. When I went to get you a drink, I quickly changed my song. No biggie," he shrugged, tying his hair back into a bun, slipping his cap over the top. Jesus Christ, he looked fucking edible.

"What's the song?" I pressed further, still adamant despite the backstage timer ticking '30 seconds.'

"Haven't named it," he shrugged his guitar strap over his shoulders, giving me a wry smile. "It's about you, though."

I blushed deep, unable to form words. There was no space for talking anyway; he headed out onto the stage, leaving me dumbfounded as I watched on.

He awkwardly introduced himself, as he did each night.

And then followed my undoing.

I'd be the voice who urged Orpheus when her body was found.

I'd be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground.

I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee that made him turn around.

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice.

Imagine being loved by me.

Suddenly, there was not nearly enough air behind this curtain as I watched on, awestruck.

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do.

So I try to talk refined in fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you.

I'd be the last shred of truth lost in the myth of true love.

I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of.

That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marvelling at God.

Before he feels alone one time and marries the sea.

Imagine being loved by me.

Fuck.

My knees felt weak, sure my ears were deceiving me. Imagine being loved by me. Oh, but I do.

Sure enough, producers from many labels were flagging him down from the minute his set finished, flooding the backstage where I was waiting for him.

I ended up having to go on straight after Andrew, thankfully. I couldn't think of any words to say, and the ones I could think of were highly inappropriate. Not that he would mind, clearly.

I hung around after my set, making eye contact with Andy here and there, waving him off when he looked like he might leave the conversations for me. I was happy for him. Ecstatic. And the craving for his touch only multiplied tenfold with his subtle admission that he felt the same.

tricked ya!! i am physically incapable of writing slow burn lol i hope u enjoy what i have for u in the next chapter xx it'll be very juicy (and hopefully longer)

i've also added a taglist as per a request, lmk if you wanna be added xo

[sunlight-fics]

I WANT/NEED TO GIVE THIS MAN A HUG SO FUCKING BAD ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY

[angelofsmalldeaath]

i'm starving, darling, let me put my lips to something — a.h.b.

cw: this is just...smut — semi-public sex, choking... minors dni i am so serious

“here?” i gasp, burning, panting. the rock solid wall digs into my back, exhilaration courses through my veins. 

“here,” he smiles, wicked and delightful in the faint light of the streetlamp. 

it’s a shitty alley for christ’s sake—in fact, i’m sure i saw a rat scurrying past us just a few seconds ago—but right now, in this moment when i feel his fingers trailing up my thigh, everything else simply fades away.

“do you want this?” he breathes, lips attached to my neck, shivering when i touch him. 

i nod instantly. “you? always.”

“no,” he laughs. it’s a low, deep sound that echoes around in my skull, “us, here. anyone can walk in, you know?”

“that’s half the thrill,” i tease, begging him to kiss me again. 

“yeah?” he challenges, teeth grazing my neck, just a smidge of pressure on my pulse point until it’s wild and thunderous and echoing throughout my entire body. 

i slap his chest lightly, “tease!”

and he laughs when i have to stand on the very tips of my toes and hold onto him just so i won’t lose my balance. it doesn’t take him much longer though, just when i’m about to stumble, he grabs my face, keeping me still so he can kiss me properly—the kind that knocks the breath out of my chest when he grazes my bottom lip with his teeth, the kind that has me leaning against him entirely for balance when my knees almost buck under me. 

the kind that makes me moan in his mouth, until he’s pulling my leg up, my thigh pressed against his waist and his hands under my ass. 

“when did you get so dirty, darling?” he teases, digs his fingers into my skin, and i squirm, wishing he’d get rid of all the layers between us. wishing he’d fuck me till all i remember is his name. 

till i suddenly find god in the alley behind the bar.

i grind my hips into his, gasping when i feel him against me, “saw how you looked at me in there. couldn’t stop the thoughts after that…”

“is that right?” he whispers, hands reaching into my hair until his fingers are tangled in the tresses. i hiss when the sting comes, when he tugs on my hair to tilt my face up, and i have no choice but to look right at him, at his almost-black, hungry eyes that look ready to devour me.

he looks ready to devour me, like a man starving. 

“touch me,” i whimper, grab his hand and move it up my thigh until his finger is hooked in the waistband of my underwear. he stills, and looks at me with a grin. 

“beg for it.”

“wha—”

“got a filthy mouth on you, haven’t you?” he whispers right into my ear, nips my earlobe while he’s at it and i moan just from that. “tell me your thoughts. tell me everything you thought about me in there.”

i whimper, thumb the zipper of his jeans until it’s half open. “everything?”

“everything. i won’t do it until you ask for it. until you beg for it.”

“thought about your hands,” i breathe, pull down his zipper the rest of the way and hook my fingers in his belt buckle. “saw your hand around the glass and wondered how it would look around my neck…”

“like this?” he asks, voice almost a growl, and wraps a hand around my neck. it’s warm, i feel every bit of callused skin on me, feel his fingers pressing down on the sides of my neck until the air thins. 

i choke out a yes, trying and failing to focus on his belt-buckle, utterly dizzy from everything—the lack of air, his body against mine. him.

“what else?” he prompts. 

heat coils in my belly when i think of the rest. “t-thought about your fingers too, on me, in me, everywhere.”

if he speaks, the words don’t register. they don’t even fall on my ears. all i feel is his fingers, snaking their way inside my underwear—moving, touching, teasing, anywhere but where i want to feel him. “like this?” he tsks, laughs when i whine in protest. 

“you know it’s not.”

“ooh, feisty.” 

this time when i kiss him, i make sure to bite. he hisses in my mouth, enjoying the sting a little too much, and i take advantage of his distraction. “like that,” i moan in his mouth and grab his hand, pushing a finger inside me and slipping my own finger in right after. i hold his hand in place and look him right in the eyes. 

they look pitch black, blown out wide and so dark, it sends a thrill down my spine. 

he presses on my neck again, more and more and more until i’m close to a blackout and grinding on his hand. my finger slips out of me, he instantly pushes in another to replace it, to stretch me out more. 

“please d-don’t stop,” i beg, moving my hips faster and faster, matching the thrust of his fingers, “i’ll die if you stop.”

my voice is raspy and rough, like i’ve been screaming his name for hours. and maybe i have been; he certainly looks like i have been—fucked out and utterly undone. 

“won’t” he promises, and moves his hand faster, thumb circling my clit, “you’ve been so good, darling, so fucking perfect!”

“ohgodohgodohgod,” i chant like a blind devotee, drunk on him, pathetic and desperate. 

“that’s it,” he groans when i clench around his fingers, “that’s it baby, give me all you got. look at me,” he says. no…it’s almost an order, “look at me when you cum.”

instinctually, i open my eyes, look right at him. he loosens his hold around my throat, and just like that the air is flooding into my lungs all at once—too much, too much, overwhelming until i cry out his name and cum all over his hand. 

our pants echo in my ear, barely even audible over the rushing blood. 

“fuck—” he chokes, utterly speechless. i feel no different. 

instead, when he pulls his hand out, i take a hold of it, place it in my mouth. he makes a sound at the back of his throat—a choked moan like he can’t take it anymore. the moan frees itself when i swirl my tongue around his fingers, licking every inch of them, sucking them clean. 

“you’ll be the death of me,” he groans, “fuck darling.”

only when i let go of his fingers do i smile at him—the same wicked smile he’d shown me before, the same devilish grin. 

“your turn now,” i kiss him, make sure he tastes me on my tongue. “tell me what you want. beg for it.”

and in the alley behind the bar, i get on my knees. 

a/n: idk why i feel the need to explain myself but i do — this was so much harder to write dear god, lets all collectively agree to ignore this if this is bad. anyway back to sappy fluff from now on (for a while at least)(unless inspiration strikes idfk)

[beetboxx]

a siren’s call home - a.h.b x reader

pure, sickeningly sweet fluff in which you wake up to andy home from tour, finally.

content disclaimers: not proofread, religious reference, reference to sexual activity but no smut, language? maybe?

author’s note: we are so back squad. it’s only been like two years. i haven’t written in so long so we can call this a test run as i get back into the swing of things. ill update my intro post to better align with what im into! feel free to come and talk to me about prompts, ideas, random thoughts, whateva. i miiiiiiggghhhhtttt write some smut next. hope you enjoy!!

orange light intruded through window shutters like holy arms, caressing the cozy room you laid in with a touch of warmth to counteract the bite of cold at your feet and nose. what was also fighting against that was the thumb stroking the small crevice between your nose and your cheek, not doing much to help but comforting nonetheless. it was the exigence to your wakeup, a bit alarming at first until you understood the source- a large hand with long fingers attached to a proportionally long man smiling like the protruding rays of sun through draped brown, ginger-ish curls, most of it lazily pulled back into a bun at the back of his neck. you registered the vague freckles speckling his cheeks as you blinked lazily, huffing and tensing your grip in your blanket.

“hi.” he said, breathing out a laugh as you felt his calf rub up against yours and his hand smooth against your cheek to your hair to comb his fingers through it as best he could, his nails scratching your scalp ever so slightly.

you sleepily murmured a response, a quick, “hi, andy,” scrunching up your face when his palm returned to your cheek. his other ventured to your waist under the comforter, soft and delicate and squeezing the plains and valleys of your side a bit when he felt like it.

”you’re pretty.”

for such a poetic and profound man, able of expressing emotions so difficult to pin down, he was seemingly struck dumb in this moment over the sight of you. maybe in order to allow his wisdom to return, maybe in order to attempt to become impossibly close to you, his other hand paralleled the other on your waist, pulling you into his torso and wrapping around to meet at the small of your back. you nuzzled into his chest, taking in his familiar scent of a cologne reminiscent of dark forestry and a breeze and placing your own hand on his shirt at his heart to feel it flutter at your fingertips. comfortable, comforted.

“when’d you get back?” you asked, voice coming out as a mellow drawl.

andrew hummed, placed a kiss on the top of your head. “late.”

“you should have woken me up,” you whined, rubbing your eyes.

another kiss, this time to your forehead where your skin meets your hairline. his lips were warm against your chilled skin.

“you say that,” he teased, accent thick with sleep and homecoming, “but you would have crucified me had i actually done that.”

“crucified, no. pinned you to the bed in a similar pose and jumped your bones, maybe.”

you grinned, leaning your head back to allow enough room to kiss his jaw. a stubble met your lips, one that had grown out and been trimmed many times over the course of his touring, all phases of which you unfortunately, miserably, missed.

“hush. you’re dreaming.”

“am not.”

andrew laughed, you squeezed him in your arms. his laugh, although quiet in volume, felt like a dose of hospital-grade medicine to your yearning-induced blues in your system as soon as it entered your ears. his voice and presence was coaxing you awake, a process usually so difficult and taxing, flooding your growing consciousness in a pool of comfort. you missed him. you missed him like a wilted flower misses the sun. you missed him in a way that could only be equated to something of cosmic origin.

“i missed you,” he whispered. thank god.

you returned his sentiment. silence then fell like a thick blanket over you both, thicker than the one bunched up at your shoulder. it sat there for a long while, robbing the both of you of thought except for the feeling of relief. andrew’s thumb rubbed back and forth on your back, a reminder of existence so you didn’t float away. you could have sworn he fell asleep with how quiet he was and how steady and light his breathing was.

you sighed, began squirming your way to get up at least to a sitting position- but you didn’t get far, that ambition quickly being squashed by two lean arms squeezing tightly, barring you from moving away from andrew.

“no.”

a mumble, quick and straight to the point. you huffed out a chuckle, choosing not to argue and enjoy the moment. moments, andrew decided for the both of you. very long, undescriptive in quantity moments. one of his hands moved up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in closer and raking into your hair to rub at your scalp. he was wearing a gray crewneck, you noticed, with unfamiliar blue embroidery of the name of some U.S. state, vintage style. you didn’t recognize it, guessing he must have gotten it on tour at whim.

he was definitely tired- exhausted, even. the lines and circles of color under his eyes had emphasized themselves, but the sight of you gave them a certain light that made you know he wasn’t going to sleep. too many thoughts, too many things to do now that he was home and finding himself complete. he was completely overwhelmed with the feeling of being home that he felt perfectly energized- that, and three cups of coffee he had had just before laying down beside you definitely helped. he took your hand in his as if he was inviting you to a dance, pressing the back of yours against his chest. to further trap you in his web or to just get closer to you, you’ll never know.

“honey, i have to get up eventually,” you remarked, trying to convince yourself more than him.

“no you don’t,” andrew immediately replied without skipping a single beat, tightening his grip on you in case you tried to pull a fast one on him and get out of bed. one of his legs, clad in loose cotton sweatpants, swung over both of yours under the covers, effectively holding you right where he wanted you in his arms.

“andrew, i have to be a functioning member of society,” you joked, wiggling around just a little with no actual attempt to break free from his hold. truthfully, you could never: he had a hold on you and your heart so tight and driven by fate that you were damned for eternity to be consumed by your love for him.

“i can make you breakfast,” you added, craning your neck back to smile at him.

andrew hummed, clicking his tongue. “ooh. very enticing and unfair,” he said. “trying to seduce me with the prospect of food.”

“seduce? i am merely giving you incentive.”

he paused, thinking. his head tilted, as it often does when he is thinking. you took his occupation with thought for an opportunity to make a smart decision and begin your day, freeing yourself from his entrapment and slinking off the bed. he acted quick, however, letting out a noise of surprise and disappointment wrapped in one and throwing himself across the bed to your side. andrew wrapped his arms around your waist as you stood, stopping you from moving too far away from

him. not again. you figured he would be a bit clingy getting back from tour, but this was taking it too another (but very welcomed) level.

“andrew!” you whined without any real weight to it as his chin rested on your hip, grinning happily. your fingers tangled themselves in his wild hair, frizzy from travel and the usual irish moisture. his hair tie was certainly not doing a fantastic job at keeping it all back, strands thick and thin escaping its weak confines. you giggle, “you’re like a puppy sometimes, you know that?”

“and you’re like.. ehm.. a siren.”

you playfully scoffed, “a siren?”

“oh, yes, a siren,” he grins, pulling your waist in until you were sitting back on the bed. “a beautiful but relentless creature with an inclination for luring and trapping defenseless men such as myself.”

“and eating them,” you added.

“whatever,” andrew said, pulling himself up to sit beside you so he could drag you into his lap. you turned yourself and straddled his thighs, arms wrapping around his neck, your intentions for the morning entirely forgotten.

he kissed your lips, softly, like he was testing the waters. you thought your breath stunk for a second with how gentle he was- until you tried to peel away, only for him to grab your face and keep you in his entrancing kiss. he deepened it, mouth opening slightly in rhythm with yours, lips dancing together like they hadn’t in so long.

you stayed that way for a while, letting andrew delicately consume your heart and soul and very essence with his neglected mouth. you could feel his breath mix with yours and span over your cheeks, and you swear it was full of helium with how light and floaty your lungs felt. you pulled away, eventually, taking a little more willpower than you would like to admit as his charged lips pulled yours in like a magnet.

he sighed, happy and content as he stared at you with big eyes, twinkling with every overwhelming emotion he had towards you.

“you have me entirely whipped, woman. like a siren.”

“i know,” you replied, kissing his lips again. “i’m glad you’re home.”

“i know.”

[daddyhausen]

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ 「 PEARL ROSARY 」 ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 MUSICIAN/ BANDS MASTERLIST 」 | 「 HOZIER MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 SUMMARY 」 — blowjobs in the backseat of andrew’s car in the church car park

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+, [ MINORS DNI ], mentions of religious procecussion, catholic!reader x catholic!hozier, oral sex [ male recieving ], facials, cumshot male orgasm

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 987

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x hozier

「 GENRE 」 — smut

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @bayleymania @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @ripleyswife @selena-tyler-564 @alyyaanna @nightmare-viper

「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

the night had always brought peace in your life. it was the one time where you felt you could be your most authentic self, free from the pressures of the church, fromm the llering eyes of parishioners, of their judgemental stares and gossip. not that you were one to even stir any trouble or anything that would warrant their stares. why you, the church girl, the innocent doe with rosery in one and and veil shielding your eyes from any scrutiny.

yet, they still stare, still shun you for your love. despite your devotion to christ, your devotion to andrew outweighed it in thousands. he was the first to not judge, to not stare with glaring hate in your direction, but affection, the muddy green of his irises bore nothing but adoration. his hands gentle in their caresses of your skin, even in passing in the pews, always respectful, always gentle.

even now, positioned on your knees as you were so commonly used to in the church pews, however your lord was not looking down on you with praise, for in his place was andrew,. mouth agape with shallow breaths, as your lips worked magic around him. he knew the church would shame him, you moreso. for without the sanctity of marriage the two of you were engaging in nothing but common sin, the two of you knew that, however, the feeling would not stop, nor did you want it to.

with your lips wrapped around andrew, taking him inch by inch as he delved deeper into sin, fingers tightening in the soft strands of your hair, entangling him like a wicked serpent.

“oh darlin’” he hummed, head thrown back in a fit of pleasure. he adored it. he adored you. the mossy green irises flickered down at you every so often, watching as you swallowed his length with a soft mumble and a moan, avoiding his gaze with a heated tint rising on your cheeks

his hand would fall from your hair, smoothing down your cheek, trailing down your jawline until gingerly resting under your chin, tilting up your head ever so slightly to meet his eyes. He bore adoration and love for you, for this pleasure he was so happy and grateful to receive from you. in this moment you did not care what the church was to think, in this moment your lord held no power over you. andrew;s completely overshadows any presence your lord ever had.

the moonlight, hidden through cracks in the treeline caressed his skin so wonderfully, a glossy sheen of sweat and rain reflected off his skin and through the windows, he looked ethereal bathed in the moonlight, the harsh shadows of night obscuring his features aside from his lips and the tip of his nose whenever he’d let out a pleasured moan.

how he’d throw his head back, lips parting with a moan as you could see the bob of his adam’s apple ripple with his throat as the euphoric sound pared his lips. you’d sink your lips lower around him, feeling him nestle comfortably in the back of your throat, his cock throbbing against the flat of your tongue on the verge of release

“darlin’ please i…i’m so close”

his teeth gritted, grinding together as pleasure courses through him. as your cheeks hollowed, drawing him in deeper, taking all he had to offer.

“oh fuck-” he pulled out with a soft grunt.

his cum adored your face and neck, pearlescent under the moonlight. the sight only accentuated your beauty even in such a state of undress, you looked like an angel, sent down from heaven just for him. he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty for corrupting such a beautiful, innocent creature such as yourself. he couldn’t bare to think of the scrutiny you’d face if the church were to ever find out. Even if they were, andrew would not allow them to shame you, for he would bare the brunt of it to save you from ridicule, save you from the jeers and jusdgement.

“c’mere, love…” he pulled you from the floor, gingerly placinging you into his lap, his softening cock prodding the back of your thigh with dull pulses. the familiar irish twang of his voice echoed in your ears, accompanied by a subtle, content groan that rumbled in his chest.

his chin resting upon yours, silence befell the both of your as your breathing started to shallow, content in listening to the rhythmic beating of eachothers hearts. his thumb, docile in it’s movements, prodded at your bottom lip, swiping away the pearlescent streak of his cum from your skin, doing so until your flesh was “pure” to the untrained eye.

“what if they find out about us?” your voice barely above a whisper, a mere squeak like that of a field mouse.

“hmm?” andrew hummed. not so much that he wasn’t listening, moreso his voice was hoarse from pleasured moans. his hand wrapped around your thigh with a protective grip, thumb smoothing across the skin in gentle circles.

“the church? what if they find out about us?” you reiterated, repeating you question as if he hadn’t heard you the first time, with more desperation and worry to your voice.

“they won’t” he replied simply. almost nonchallontally

“you don’t know that-”

“and how do you know that they will?” his question rhetorical, cutting your sentence off in the process.

it sounded rude although that was defintely not his intention. andrew’s jaw tightened for a moment, the protective grip on your thigh still evident. he was contemplating his next words, carefully, evidently. you could see the cogs turning in his head as his eyebrows furrowed, chewing the inside of his cheek in though.

“i will not let them shame us for giving in to our basic instincts.” he responded cautiously, mind still in thought.

“i will not let them shame us for being human”

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

[reidsbabyhoney]

night out | hozier

the one where he gets drunk and falls in love with you all over again.

pairing: hozier x wife!reader category: fluff cw: drinking, being at a bar wc: 1.7k a/n: I'm so so sorry this took so long to write, I just had midterms for all of my classes and had absolutely no free time, but I'm finally on break so Im hoping to get more stories out these next couple of weeks! this was a request, so i hope you love it. reader is a book store owner and that is very self indulgent of my dreams of one day maybe owing a book store if nothing else works out for me. (outfit described can be found here, but as always imagine it however you like

masterlist hozier masterlist

This was the first time in what felt like years that you and Andrew were finally taking up an offer to go out.

Since the tour began, the band had invited you both out multiple times, but neither of you accepted, claiming to be too tired after the shows.

Since this was the first time that you had been able to join Andrew on tour, you were taking up as much quality time as you could get from him when he wasn't busy running around during sound check and doing interviews.

That was another reason you both declined going out multiple times deciding to spend...quality time with each other behind the doors of hotel rooms.

But tonight, you both agreed to go out when Alex asked if you would be joining the rest of the band, saying they were going to a bar just down the street from the hotel you were staying at.

Walking down the sidewalk to the bar, you’re hand in hand with Andrew who’s softly humming to himself.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says, taking in your outfit.

It was nothing extravagant, though you did want to look a bit nicer. Just a simple satin slip dress with some red boots for a pop of color and your usual purse.

“Mm thank you, you look handsome tonight too, I say we just go back to the hotel room,” you respond with a mischievous smile.

He’s simply wearing a jumper with a white t-shirt underneath and a pair of jeans, but the way his sleeves are rolled up makes you want to drag him back to the hotel room and stay there for days.

At your remark, he playfully pinches your hip and shakes his head, “No, you minx. We’re going out because you wanted to, let’s keep that in mind.”

You let out a huff as he opens the door to the bar, which looks to be busy as you eye the tables are full of people.

Surveying the bar, you quickly spot Melissa and both make your way towards the table they’ve claimed.

After greeting them all, everyone goes their own way. Alex decides to drag Andrew to the corner of the bar where the pool tables are stationed.

Over hearing his plans on getting your husband absolutely hammered tonight, you simply shake your head with a small laugh and send him off with a kiss.

An hour passes and you've had a few drinks, deciding to stay near the table and observe everyone in the cramped space.

Realizing you haven't seen Andrew in a while, you get up from your spot at the table, asking Joy if she’d seen him anywhere.

“Oh yeah, last I saw he and Alex were by the bar, I think Melissa might be over there too,” she says, pointing to where Andrew’s tall body stood at the end of the bar.

“Thank you.”

You walk over to where the three of them are standing, deciding to talk to Melissa first since Alex seems to have your husband deep in thought.

“Please tell me he hasn’t had more than 4 drinks,” you say to Melissa as she just lets out a laugh.

“I’m afraid he might be well past that y/n/n.”

Turning towards Andrew you see him looking at you as if he was met with the most divine creature in the world.

“Go on, talk to the pretty girl Andy,” says Alex, trying his hardest to hold back a laugh.

Your eyebrows basically reach your hairline as he says that, no way he’s so hammered he’s forgotten you’re married.

“Hi, em, hi, m’names Andrew, or Andy’s fine too,” he says looking a bit shy.

You just look towards Alex instead of answering, "Alex, when you said you planned on getting him hammered, I didn't think you meant it was going to be this bad!"

All he does is laugh and shrug his shoulders, finding this situation amusing.

Sighing, you know there’s no way that he’ll believe you’re truly married if you try explaining it to him now, so you decide to play into it a bit.

Smiling you shake your head and respond “ I’m y/n, it’s great to meet you Andy.”

Both Melissa and Alex just laugh, deciding to leave you both in the empty corner of the bar.

“I hope I’m not being too forward y/n, but you’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You grow a bit shy at his words, your cheeks covered in a faint blush. The conversation is reminding you of when you first met years ago, his words almost the exact same.

“No baby, not too forward at all."

“I just, well not to sound creepy, but you caught my eye while you were sitting down over there and I'm afraid to admit I was nervous to go over and introduce myself first," he says looking down at his hands as if he's embarrassed by his confession.

Your smile brightens at his words. You're truly about to swoon over this man all over again.

"Well then, I'm glad I came over here first. How about we go sit down with our friends over there yeah?” you say, pointing to where the rest of the band is.

Andrew responds by quickly nodding his head and grabbing your hand to guide you through the still very packed bar.

“Here come the lovebirds.”

Of course it’s Alex that says this, still finding extreme delight in your husband's current state.

Looking at the rest of the table, it seems like he’s caught everyone up on what’s happened because they all look at you with small smiles on their faces.

Taking your seat at the booth, sitting between Joy and Andrew the conversation starts back up again.

Your husband turns towards you and begins asking you questions.

"So, y/n, where are y'from," he asks. He's looking at you as if trying to memorize your every feature.

You shy under his intense stare, and it takes you a second to respond.

"Well, I live in Ireland."

His eyes basically pop out of his skull at your answer, surprised as if there aren't millions of people living in the country.

"Seriously, me too," his eyes bright with excitement realizing that this could possibly go somewhere, little does he [currently] know, it already has.

"Yeah I live in County Wicklow with my husband."

His face brightens then immediately falls once you finish your sentence.

"Husband?"

"Baby, look at your left hand for me, yeah?"

Doing as you say, Andrew looks at his hand that's rested on the table, finally noticing the wedding ring on his finger.

"Now take it off and look inside," you say, taking off your ring to show him the matching engraving details on the inside of both your rings.

"Andrew & y/n. April 23, 2022," he says reading the date of your wedding.

It takes him a second to realize what it means, but once it clicks, he's looking up at you, wide eyed.

"We're married! Alex, why didn't you say I was married to her," he says turning to his friend, who seems all too pleased that this conversation is happening.

Alex simply takes a swig of his beer and chuckles, "Y'never asked."

Andrew then turns towards you with embarrassment washing over his features, "Gods, I'm mortified love, and you're never going to let me live this down are you?"

You just shake your head and laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Nope."

Laughing at his reaction, you decide that it may be time to leave, realizing it's nearing one in the morning.

"C'mon, let's go back to the hotel so you have enough rest to actually be embarrassed about this tomorrow."

With that, you get out of the booth and say your goodbyes to everyone.

Walking out of the bar, there's a slight chill in the air, causing Andrew to take off his sweater and hand it to you.

Taking it, you pull it over your dress and walk hand in hand back to the hotel.

Reaching your room, you pull out the key card to your shared room, opening the door wide enough for both of you to walk in.

"I can't believe I'm so far gone I didn't even remember we were married," Andrew says as he sits down on the bed to take off his shoes.

"I know, me either, I mean how could you forget you were married to me," you say jokingly, dragging your hands down your body to emphasize what he was forgetting.

Andrew just laughs and shakes his head.

He notices you going to the bathroom and turns towards you, "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"In a bit, I just need to take off my makeup," you reply.

Andrew patiently waits for you in the bed in his pajamas which consist of a pair of pajama pants that are far too old to still be worn, and a beat up shirt he'll eventually take off, claiming to be too hot. (Even though he'll later wrap his arms around you dragging you as close as he possibly could, and wake up in the morning complaining that you "radiate too much body heat", even if he's the one that starts the cuddling.)

Shortly after, you make your way out of the bathroom, fresh faced and in your own pajamas.

Getting under the covers you turn on the lamp on your nightstand and expectantly wait for Andrew to do the same.

When he doesn't, you look towards the end of the bed where he's sat.

"Andy, aren't you coming to bed?"

"I, I know we're married but, it feels odd sleeping with you, I feel like I should take you out to dinner first," he says sheepishly, finally turning to face you.

"Don't worry, you've wined and dined me many times, so I'm not worried about that, now let's go to sleep," you say.

Finally Andrew gets on his side of the bed, turning on his side so that he's facing you.

Letting out an exasperated sigh he just shakes his head and one final time asks, "I'm never forgetting about this am I?"

Letting out a fake snore, you pretend you're asleep instead of answering him though he already knows the answer.

Andrew just chuckles, knowing that whatever comes tomorrow would be worth it, cause he got to relive what it felt like to fall in love with you again.

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @man-i-love-folklore @the-song-of-flowers @songbirds-sweet @cowboycatreign @harnans @celery-grace @genevievetaylorsversion22 @alexis-34 @inejghafawifesblog @colddarkearth23 @hauntedworld @sleepy-time-dreamy @lemon9de @midsummervixen

[love-toxin]

hyrule spice <3 (rauru, byrne, tauro, link)

(general cws: graphic smut, fem/afab pronouns, breeding, knotting, hylian/zonai relations, pet names/name calling, dirty talk, degradation, squirting, fingering, overstim, bondage, unprotected sex, rough sex)

rauru of hyrule

Rauru never falters, never hesitates. He wants you and you're his. There's no fighting it--there simply can't be any doubt that you have his love.

But as the king of Hyrule, he has a duty to fulfill. Marriage, family, continuance of the royal bloodline...you understand, don't you? Even as a Hylian, you must. As a man and a Zonai, he has needs.

One of those needs, especially when faced with a pretty Hylian like yourself, is to breed.

"Ah, ah, ah--ahnnnngh-!" Is it you now, is it him? Who even cares at this point, you're basically the same being by now; bodies intertwined and moving in unison, every shuffle dictated by Rauru's massive Zonaite body towering over yours. Both his furry, clawed hands rest over yours, palms dwarfing your tiny Hylian fingers as he plants his body firmly into every thrust. The thin, fuzzy layer of hair that protects his cock is now coated in your arousal, sticky and slick from the pounding you've taken so all that rings in your ears is a hefty plap plap plap from behind as you take his thrusts.

Rauru once apologized to you, when you met, about his "off-putting" appearance. His ears, his claws, his snout that makes it difficult to kiss, his fur and his tail...he doesn't apologize for it anymore. He knows now that he doesn't have to, not when he gives you treatment like this.

"Forward," He snarls into your ear, gone mad with the weight of his lust and the frenzy of his mid-month heat. His teeth could rip the flesh from your bones, yet even in this state he uses them only to pierce the sweetest of claiming bites into your throat and down your spine. "Bend...until you break."

He can't be satiated by thought alone. Nor even the touch of his own hands, or a concubine if he owned one. It can only be you. Only your soft, squishy flesh rubbing up against his fur, your hands pinned beneath his claws, and your womb pierced on the tip of his thick, knot-heavy cock that's just begging to lock itself within your cunt and never let go.

Those claws dig painfully into your back, yet it doesn't dissuade you, and he loves that. He loves that at the end of the day, you'll submit to your king as he forces you to the sheets and pins your hips under his, his knot swelling and swelling until he finally breaches that soft place and all becomes right with the world. Through the pain you still adore him, and through the pleasure even more so.

Now, it's just a matter of soothing your bruised, marked-up body with his voice and his doting touch, with kisses and whispers of love and promises of all the gorgeous gifts he's going to present to you, as a token of gratitude for allowing the first of the Zonai to mate with the first Hylian--and person--he's ever truly loved.

byrne the dueling spirit

One hundred years. One hundred years of hard labour, training, and agony. Loneliness and isolation and anger, fury building itself up and up and up until it boils, begging to be let out on anyone close enough to make a decent punching bag.

Byrne doesn't know love. Never has, never feels like he ever will--he only knows pain and weakness, the desire to grow stronger clawing at him like a ravenous dog. Maybe that's why he finally lets loose on you. You were within reach. Never said no, never gave him anything but a smile.

And you're regretting it now, he bets. Because you have a muscled, weighty beast of a man on top of you, and you can feel the way he's learning this kind of touch for the first time as well as you can see clouds in the sky.

Or could, if you didn't have your face forced into your pillow, back arched so deeply the sweat pools like a puddle in the dip of your back. And it shakes and spills with the creaking of your bedframe, your down mattress squealing for mercy as Byrne forces you down and bullies your pussy into submission.

"Shut up." He groans, as if his bandana hasn't been balled up and stuffed into your mouth to quiet your incessant noises. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't say anything. But he can't help but tease you...can't help but make you wish you'd never invited him back to your house in the first place. "....Useless bitch." He grumbles, the smirk on his face going unnoticed as your lust-numbed brain leaks out your ears. Your pussy's cute, but it won't let him go--and even when he tries, your body just sucks him back in like you can't go a minute without being fucked.

But it just gives him the chance to put that metal arm to good use. It isn't rubbing or pinching he uses to his advantage, but a cold, hard, wet slap against your clit that finally shocks you enough to let him go--just barely enough to slide out before you clench down on the tip, though, and your muscles won't loosen as if you've been made to have a vice grip most inconveniently. He's gotta go. "Can't stick around fucking you all day. Let go."

Pop. With a deep, clingy squelch, he's finally pulled free from your soaking wet, tight as hell abyss, contrary to your whines and squirmy wiggling that beg him sweetly for more. To stay.

You're pretty and all. He likes you, and he doesn't like anyone. But he can't stay....and you can't get too attached to him, or else you're just gonna end up heartbroken.

But, maybe...maybe he can spare you a little dignity and make you finish. He thinks as he slides his cockhead through your folds again, unaware of just how hard he's falling in love as he sinks back in.

tauro the scholar

Your scholar is a nightmare because he won't let anything just lie. He needs answers. Evidence. Scientific proof. He needs logic and deciphered clues to figure out life's greatest mysteries.

Hence why he's doing today's case study on your soft, cute, and sensitive little pussy.

"Subject-responds-to-stimuli-even-under-duress," He speaks softly as his free hand scribbles out his notes on the pad between his feet, his fingers on the other hand buried deep within your twitching, stretched pussy lips. The 'stimuli' being him, and 'duress'....well, emotional duress counts. Especially when you've orgasmed 8 times today. "I believe in you, baby." Tauro replies cheerfully to your fucked-out groans, a smile permanently etched on his lips as he curls his fingers deep into your cervix. "I can make you ejaculate today! We're almost there!"

Somehow the sterile language he likes to use--which would normally be a bit of a mood killer in bed--just doesn't faze you anymore with Tauro. He's a bit of a kook, a cute airhead with the kind of knowledge the Sheikah themselves would kill for. A sweet, silly man who likes to tease.

A man who isn't intimidated by the pulses of your pussy nor the jerk of your hips as the pressure pushes down on your bladder, who positions his face right up close between your legs despite you gasping out that you feel like you're gonna pee. Embarrassment is nothing to him.

"That's what it's supposed to feel like."

He growls with an eager grin, fucking your cunt even faster with those thick fingers that's toe-curling but not yet cusping on painful. The bristly hairs on his freshly-shaved chin rub your soaked skin as he leans in, laving his huge, hot tongue over your tortured clit that's been messed with like a hot button all day today.

It's only when your shaking hips and arched back come to a standstill that he's finally satisfied--drenched in your juices, his face glistening as he talks you through and urges you to "let it all out baby, give everything to me" until you're squirting just like he told you he'd make you do for him.

Rarely have you seen such satisfaction on his face upon finding the answer he was looking for. Each tremor comes as he eases more out of you, every gasp and spurt of fluid getting him more excited about the results. You drench him from head to lap and he couldn't be more ecstatic, licking every bit he can get off his fingers and his palm as he looks up at you through hooded eyes.

"Now..." He pants, hair slicked down and tongue lolling out of his mouth as he laps up the droplets sticking to your folds as you tremble. "...Let's see if you can do that again, hm?"

link the hero

Link needs very few, simple things in life to coexist with reality. Those are primarily food, warmth, sunshine...and sex.

Poor hero. All he needs is an orgasm or two to get him back into the fight when he's exhausted from his toils. That's not so much to ask for, right?

That's where you come in. Such a pretty thing--and such a nice girl to help him out when he's in need. Link can show up on your doorstep night or day, rain or shine, healthy or half-dead, and to see you let him in and give him a place to put his feet up makes him feel like he's in love.

And whatever ails him is sure to clear up with a dose of your sweet, slick pussy that he swears was moulded just for him.

"Ha...ha...hah, ah-!" Link huffs out as he comes to a close again, hips bucking violently from below as he lets those animal instincts run wild with you. He can't be stopped, hence why you have to use those handy Lynel-silver shackles to cuff him to your bed, all so he won't break free in the heat of the moment and start fucking you rabidly on the floor of your cottage. Not like that's ever happened before, and he accidentally traumatized your milkman when he came knocking on the door....

"D-Don't strain, Link..." You gasp, his cum flooding down your thighs from hours upon hours of rabid coming-home-from-battle sex. "You'll hurt yourself."

Link doesn't talk much as it is, but the wobbly grin and the rolling back of his eyes in his head serves well enough to say what he thinks about that sentiment. Don't care. Need to blow my load. That's what's written all over his expression, and you can't say you're much surprised...or disappointed.

"Fine," You sigh, swirling your hips in deep circles to slow his thrusts--and to remind him of how much he's at your mercy now, no matter how strong of a warrior he is out on the field of battle. Your chuckle causes his back to arch up off the bed, his wrists pulling hard at the cuffs while his heart nearly beats out of his chest. "Then be a good boy and cum already. I've got a mess to clean up."

Link growls, that feral growl that only comes out when he's really, desperately in need of release. He starts thrusting more violently, his hips barely meeting the mattress anymore as he chases that pleasure against your womb--against that blasted little wall that feels like heaven but constantly stops him from shooting ropes right into the source of that ecstasy he loves. Maybe one day.

For now, it only stops once you've had your cervix appropriately bruised, and he's made you slump over him in a panting, gasping mess as his seed flows out of you and into his sweaty lap. Maybe he doesn't need Hyrule, Hylia's blessing, or the Master Sword, or anything anymore.

Maybe all he needs in this world is you.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Moves

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: loosely based off Suki Waterhouse's Moves. It was also supposed to be SMUT, but apparently that wasn't meant to be.

Author's note 2: y'all I meant to post this earlier but got distracted.

Summary: Y/n has had feelings for Andrew for a while now, and she's pretty sure he feels the same. Can one night change everything?

Warnings: unrequited love, but also, more requited than not.

She likes him – maybe its a little more than like, at this point. She adores the colour of his eyes, the way they’re green when its bright out, but then when they meet at dimly lit pubs or he hangs around late at night and neither of them bothers to turn on an overhead light, they’re this dark, hazel hue. She is thrilled by his laugh – not the polite courtesy chuckle he spares when someone tells a joke that isn’t even funny – she means that full bodied sound that erupts from his throat when they’re watching that one episode of that one show, the way he rocks backwards a little and rests his hand over his chest. And there’s something about the way he says her name too, that makes Y/n giddy inside, especially when she picks up his call late at night, while he’s on tour and the rest of the band is asleep but he can’t seem to keep his eyes shut without her voice being the last thing he hears before doing it.

Andrew told her that once;

"I don't think I could sleep if I tried....I need to talk to you first. Hear your voice so I can just...."

"Just what?"

He paused, hesitating, "nothing, I just like the way you sound. That's all."

Y/n could have sworn that it would have been the call that changed everything. She'd held her breath until around two am, when he finally yawned and said he was going to try to get some sleep.

He must feel the same, Y/n determined shortly after that. Because friends don’t sling their long arms around your shoulders, or kiss your forehead right after pulling you against them.

Friends don’t have moments where their lips get so close to the other’s that it won’t expend any real effort to make them to touch.

Andrew was the one to pull away that night and apologize profusely before blaming it on the liquor. She’s never told him, but she wishes he hadn’t. She thinks about it so painfully often that she swears the memory is burning a hole into her heart – the ache of what could've been, but isn’t.

Y/n is thinking about it tonight. They’re sitting on Andrew's back porch, a bottle of wine shared between them. The backyard is illuminated by the light over the wide, glass door that separates his kitchen from the deck, and the blue hued, inground lights that give the pool that sits between his house and the foliage bordering the woods a glacial glow. Off in the distance, she can hear crickets and the occasional rustle of some other, nocturnal creature moving through the trees.

The mood would be entirely romantic if it weren’t for the smell of barbeque and booze clinging to the thick, humid air. It's why they’re outside; its unusually warm and sticky for an Irish October, but Andrew has informed her its becoming typical for this time of the year. He also said that being outside helps, but Y/n thinks that was just an excuse for them to sit outside in hopes that the fresh air would sober them up.

But she doesn’t particularly mind – even if she’s been bitten by a couple mosquitoes.

Everyone else is long gone, and he'd asked her to stay back for a few more drinks while she helped him cram leftovers into his fridge. Its not unusual for her to be the only one left at his place – or vise versa – so Y/n is used to being alone in Andrew’s presence. In fact, she thinks she prefers when its just the pair of them, occupying a quiet space saying nothing but whatever pops into their somewhat inebriated minds;

“I read this poem that made me think of you.”

“I bought you a jacket, but I forgot to pack it.”

“Have you read that book I told you about?”

“Would you read this thing I wrote?” He asks after a couple hours of them going around in circles of menial chatter. Of late, everything Andrew writes is about her, and while he’s thought of telling her that more times than he can count, he can't seem to force the words out of his mouth. It isn’t even that he’s intimidated by her – that would be far too uncomplicated for an overthinker of his caliber. No.

He could never be intimidated by Y/n anyway; he’s known her for too long, too well. She’s the person that puts him most at ease; his heart doesn’t quicken when she touches his arm the way she’s touching it now as she says, “Of course, I’d love to.” In fact, the tick in his chest slows when she does that, he isn't nervous or worried or anything, he's just…. happy. And though her hands are usually so cold, Andrew swears there’s a tingle permeating the thin fabric of his grey Henley when she touches him.

Their eyes meet as Y/n promises to read what he’s written and she finds herself drawing in a shallow breath. There’s something else on the barest top of her liquor-stained tongue, but its refusing to break past her lips;

“I’ll read anything you write. I’d do anything for you, really.”

“Great, great,” Andrew beams suddenly, straightening his back before standing with purpose. “I’m gonna get it, wait here.” He doesn’t wait for Y/n to respond, not even with a nod, before disappearing into the house.

While he’s gone, Y/n tops off those sleek, stemless wine glasses with the remainder of the chilled Sauvignon Blanc and takes a sip of hers, hoping it’ll help combat the sticky heat that’s surrounding the property. She knows she probably shouldn't have anymore; her head is already fuzzy and there’s that tell tale film over her eyes. The one that makes lights stretch out like shooting stars and makes you feel like you're walking through a dream. Andrew must not be any better either, because he stumbled over all too familiar steps on his way back into the house.

“Got it,” he announces as he returns to the patio, raising the notebook over the head in triumph. Andrew is less than graceful when he retires next to her again, dropping the book into her lap. After a lengthy sip of his wine, he leans back onto his elbows. “It's the last thing in there,” his cheeks heat up, the dusty red colour creeping up his cheeks, towards his ears.

He’s a funny sort of drunk; chatty and able to make a joke of literally anything. He’s flirty too, yet somehow retaining his usual reserve. When they venture to pubs, he’ll flirt his way right into a one night stand without even realizing it, and then slink back to her side, rattling off an excuse involving the words, “ehm, well, she isn’t really my type.”

“Yeah? What is your type?” She’d ask, eyes challenging him.

He’ll look at her for a bit longer than usual, squirting his eyes a little as his waning smile fades completely. “Doesn’t matter,” he’ll eventually say dismissively, covering his words with a swing of his drink before changing the topic.

“Its not finished yet,” he mumbles as Y/n finds the page.

“It looks finished,” Y/n frowns, looking down at the way he’s signed the bottom of the page, the way he usually does after scrawling out the final words.

Andrew shakes his head, “ehm, I mean….the idea. I’m not done with the idea.”

“Oh.” They lapse into easy silence when she starts reading, meticulously scanning every line, barely restraining herself from ghosting her thumb over his hurried, untidy penmanship. Y/n can feel Andrew’s eyes on her as she reads. He's still laid back and propped on one elbow as he steadily sips his wine while she tries to get her hazy mind to comprehend everything on the page.

Its a love song or a profession – or she’s pretty fucking drunk and has lost all ability to to comprehend words.

No, its definitely a confession. A beautifully written one. Of course everything he writes is always much akin to poetry; but with this, every word is strung together like tiny bulbs in a reel of fairy lights. Each one in perfect harmony with the other. They’re carefully chosen, as if just one were missing its entire, delicate balance would be pitched into uncertainty.

“Andrew….” He sits up, draining the last of his wine as she lifts her head from the page.

“Is it bad? The worst fuckin’ thing I’ve ever written?” He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he flashes her a lopsided smile.

“It's beautiful,” Y/n rasps, suddenly feeling like the air’s been knocked from her chest, or like she’s been running too fast. There’s something besides the night’s oppressive heat surrounding them, something fragile and precious. Part of her wants to say something else, she can see on his face that he’s aching for more, but Y/n is absolutely terrified that if she does, it’ll be the wrong thing and the moment will be shattered into a million little pieces, scattered across the forests behind his house by an unexpected breeze, the way it happened on a night all too similar to this one.

“But?” Andrew is the one that dares to speak, the word uttered softly and with the weight of reproach clinging to its single syllable.

God, what if he’s ruined everything? What if the reason he’s never been able to tell Y/n the way he feels is because a morsel deep within him knows she doesn’t return his feelings. Andrew doesn’t even know if she’s interested in a relationship – or anything adjacent – right now, she doesn’t talk about going on dates and or fancying anyone.

What if the reason she never talks about other men is because she’s somehow gathered how he feels and is trying to protect him from the hurt? That would be awfully cruel, but he supposes it's the kindest thing she can do without ruining their friendship.

“But….” Right before her, in a matter of seconds, a dozen emotions cross Andrew's face and Y/n realizes that, if she’d been in front of a mirror the night he told her he likes hearing her voice before he goes to sleep, this is what she might have seen reflected in it. That cautious hope, with a bit of fear sprinkled in.

Upon realizing that there's no ‘perfect’ thing to say, Y/n hastily leans forward and rests her lips on his, in a chaste, close-mouthed kiss. He’s shocked at first, she can feel it in the way he stiffens. But after another couple breaths spent like that, Andrew wraps an arm around her, flattening his palm on the center of her back. As he relaxes, Y/n deepens the kiss, deserting the book in her lap to cup his face. His beard tickles the inside of her hands, just like she’s always imagined it would, and his tongue and lips are sweet with the wine’s fruity notes.

When they break, faces only inches apart, Andrew lets out a shaking breath while Y/n holds onto hers. “God….I don’t think I would’ve ever done that,” he admits, shoulders rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths.

Sometimes he wishes he had her courage, but most times, he’s glad its hers.

A hint of a smile tugs at her kiss-swollen lips. “I know,” she laughs softly, the sound airy and musical.

Her eyes are twinkling, like two stars plucked from right over the vast bed of darkness hung over their heads. Andrew is certain that no two stars have ever shone brighter, so its fitting that they belong to her – the most dazzling person he knows. Setting his glass down, he lifts his free hand to her cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing her lips. “I’ve been thinking about it for a damn long time,” he admits. It's hard for him to put a definite number to it, it might as well have been very soon after they met.

“Me too,” Y/n rests her hand over his wrist, offering it an affectionate squeeze.

“I think…..” he trails off, struggling to keep a firm grip on his thoughts. His imagination is running a little wild right now; his mind is already churning out thoughts of his future as it changes shape. It's funny to him how one thing can change everything else.

One kiss, and he swears he’s seeing the rest of his life. Holding it.

“Sshh, we don’t have to talk about it tonight,” Y/n whispers. Talking complicates – they’ve been talking for too damn long anyway, and knowing Andrew, his brain is already three weeks ahead of him. Its sweet actually, because every plan she’s made for her future has been built around him, and now suddenly, he’s doing the same thing. “Lets just….”

“Just what?”

“Do this,” in an instant, Y/n closes the space between them again and seals her lips over Andrew’s. That time, he responds immediately, pulling her against him until the only thing left for her to do is slide her leg over his thighs and shuffle into his lap, pressing her chest to his and draping one arm over his shoulder while she keeps her other against his cheek. The way his beard scratches the area around her mouth makes her smile, and she thinks its something she'll get used to quickly.

All of it is so close to being as commonplace his arm slung around her shoulders and the sound of his voice coming through her phone while there’s a timezone and entire ocean between them. The way his mouth moves against hers, the heat of his hands as they hold onto her waist, the sound of his voice as he says;

“I’m glad you stayed.”

[padfootagain]

Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating his best friend's engagement changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader

Friends with Benefits AU, angst and fluff

Warning: there is no explicit smut, but there are sexual themes in this fic, so 18+ only!

Series complete:

-Chapter 1 : For the Best

-Chapter 2 : The Dangers of a Night Out

-Chapter 3 : By the Rules

-Chapter 4 : First Time

-Chapter 5 : Doubting

-Chapter 6 : Hiding

-Chapter 7 : Tender Bitterness

-Chapter 8 : Hopes and Disappointments

-Chapter 9 : Testing Feelings

-Chapter 10 : Too Sweet

-Chapter 11 : If We Break

-Chapter 12 : First Light

-Chapter 13: Decisions

-Chapter 14: Heartbreak

-Chapter 15: Aftermath

-Chapter 16: Fare Well

-Chapter 17: Looking for Help

-Chapter 18: Work Song

-Chapter 19: Ascent

-Chapter 20: Toothaches

[seenoversundown]

I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

Warnings: Smut (Oral F receiving, sex sex sex)

Word Count: 1.3k

Andrew x Reader (y/n)

The laughter of our friends echoes down the hall as he guides me further and further away from them. We’re hosting the annual holiday party this year for the first time. It was our third holiday season together but the first one in our new home. 

“They’re going to notice we’re gone, we’re going to get caught,” I say while tugging his hand. I can’t help the fit of giggles that follow. 

“Love, we’re only going to get caught if you’re loud,” Andrew replies, and the heat building in my stomach drops. We continue down the long hallway until we hit the staircase. I’m ready to start tiptoeing up them, trying to remind myself to avoid the squeaky stair halfway up, when Andrew pulls us into the small closet built under the stairs instead, causing me to gasp. 

“This is way too close to everyone else!” I hiss under my breath. 

He laughs while tugging me in further. “We have about ten minutes before Marlow comes looking for me; better make them count.” 

 My protests quickly fail as he attaches his lips to my throat, my ultimate weakness. He pulls me against him as he pushes the door shut with a soft click. I’m holding on to his arms as though they’re life preservers keeping me from drowning in all of him. I feel the low rumble of his laugh as he peppers soft kisses trailing up to my lips. 

As soon as Andrew’s lips touch mine, I feel myself drown. It’s intoxicating as I spiral from our kiss. I let my hands roam over his arms, chest, anything I can touch. It seems as though he feels the same way with the way his hands are pulling my dress up over my thighs. I can feel his fingers slip over the outside of my thong, looping into each side. With one quick movement, he pulls them down and falls to his knees simultaneously. He looks up through his lashes at me, and god, is it a beautiful sight. His pupils are so blown out that I can barely make out the green of his eyes I love so much. I’m breathless looking at how gorgeous this man is. I feel lucky. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, love. I need to taste you.” Andrew sounds desperate as he plants kisses on my thighs, almost like he’s waiting for me to permit him.

“Please,” my voice comes out breathless, almost inaudible, but it’s all he needs. He takes his fingers and separates my folds to give me one long swipe of his tongue. I forget our rules, where we are, for a moment, and moan in relief. Finally, my man is where he belongs. 

“You have to stay quiet, love, or I can’t let you finish.” 

My hands instantly go to the back of Andrew’s head. “Sorry, sorry, don’t stop.”

“My needy girl, what am I going to do with you?” He doesn’t give me time to respond as he expertly finds my clit. I’m focusing hard on not making a sound, but I can’t help the whimper that comes out of me when he inserts a single finger. The scrape of his beard on the inside of my thighs is deliciously painful. 

“More, please give me more.” I’m close, something that always happens fast with him. I feel him chuckle, which just makes my clit hum in pleasure, but he complies. I feel the second finger enter me, and I slowly become untethered. My hands are lost in his unruly curls as I hold him against me, chasing my release. His fingers curl inside of me, and I come entirely undone. It’s hard to remember to stay quiet when he makes me feel this good. When he’s sure I’ve come down, he rises from his place on his knees. 

“I need to feel you,” Andrew whispers against my ear as he turns me around. I hear the zipper of his pants before he shrugs them down his thighs. He places the crown of his cock against my entrance, and I can’t help but push up against it; the anticipation is unbearable. 

“My desperate girl can’t wait for me, can she?” My head shakes in response as I hear him tsk behind me. “You know the rules, babe. Use your words.” He slowly removes his cock so he isn’t touching me anymore. 

“Please, please. I need you. I can’t wait.” He’s right, I am desperate for him. 

I hear Andrew’s low chuckle behind me as he repositions himself at my entrance. He doesn’t give me any warning at all before he’s bottoming out inside of me. The mix of our moans fills the tiny closeted space while he brings up a hand to my neck. With his hand slightly tightening on my throat and the other gripped onto my hip, he starts to thrust. 

“You’re so wet for me. Just for me. God, I love being inside you.” Andrew murmurs in my ear. I feel myself melting for him. I press my ass back and spread my legs even more, trying to get as much of him as I can. 

“You need this too, don’t you, babe? My naughty girl, I love when she comes out to play.” I lightly moan in response to his words when his hand gives a warning squeeze around my throat. 

“My naughty girl still needs to be quiet. Wouldn’t want to be found, would we?” 

“No, sorry, please.” My breath hitches in my throat as Andrew thrusts into me at a steady pace. His hand slowly travels up my side as his languid thrusts continue until he reaches the peak of my breast. My nipple is hard, and I need more from him. I don’t have to say anything as he pinches my nipple and gives me the pressure I am desperately searching for. 

“You feel so good, pleasedon’tstop.” I barely recognize my own voice anymore. I love when sex with Andrew sends me into another dimension. 

“Let me feel you come, love, come undone for me.” My orgasm is right on the surface as I listen to his words, but once his hand deserts my breast and makes its way to my clit I am entirely done for. 

It’s hard not to whimper as I come on Andrew’s cock, and it’s hard not to moan when I feel him release inside of me. It feels as though there’s no more air in this closet, just Andrew and I. He stays behind me for a moment, maybe two, just holding me in our post-coital bliss. When he’s ready, he finally pulls out of me, and I can’t help but whimper at the empty feeling. 

Andrew moves around me and cleans me up with my discarded panties. After  he puts them on the shelf out of view, “I’ll come back for these when everyone leaves.” He says as he presses a kiss to my temple. 

“You better not forget them, I swear, Andrew.” 

“Swear what?” He presses a kiss to my lips. “I know how to get on your good side, love. I’m not worried.” He laughs that glorious laugh; it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. He unlocks the closet door and looks back at me, “ready to go back?” 

“Do I look okay?” I ask as I smooth my dress back out, trying to look as normal as possible. Andrew takes my wrists and stops my movements. 

“You, my love, are ethereal.” A single kiss to my forehead. “Let’s go.” 

As we walk back down the hallway , the voices get louder and louder, seemingly right on time; a small pair of footsteps is running towards us. 

“Uncle Annndreeeewww!!” Marlow bellows. “I’ve been looking for you! Have you been playing hide and seek?” She erupts into a fit of giggles as Andrew lifts her above his head. 

“Absolutely was, Mar. Good job! You found us.” 

I can’t help but laugh behind them as we walk into our living room to be greeted by everyone else. 

“You two were gone for quite some time.” Our friend calls from the other side of the room. 

Andrew’s quick to cover Marlow’s ears before he responds. “You know me, I would never worship and tell.”

[mabelstone]

Common Tongue

hozier x f!reader

part five of lullabies <3 | part four | masterlist

cw: 18+, oral sex, a lot of this is sex ok u should know me by now, the word 'balls', not much plot tbh

word count: 4.1k

taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure @the-imperfectgirl-blog @l1nd3n @yunonaneko xo

I woke in the delicious warmth of Andrew’s arms, his soft breaths against my neck sending a chill down my spine. I gently nuzzled into his touch, his arms autonomously holding me tighter. For the next week and a half, this was my morning routine. Also part of the morning routine was the part where I would slip out of his grip as gently as possible when I was on the verge of weeing myself.

I’d slip back into bed, entranced by the way sleep drenched breaths swam through the small parting of his lips. The way his muddy greens danced under his eyelids as he dreamt, and the way his thick lashes swept along his high cheekbones made it near impossible for me to look away.

We danced around the fine line of being lovers, friends, and fuck buddies, not even entertaining the thought of defining what we were. I knew it was all probably moving too fast considering I’d just gotten out of a relationship. Not that I really cared - Andy had a way of numbing me. Numbing the heartbreak in a way that I didn’t even have to acknowledge it. He made me feel happy and sexy and loved, if that’s what you’d call it.

Like he could feel it, he’d wake to me watching him, causing me to blush profusely and apologise. He’d either pull me in and kiss my neck and forehead, or remind me with a grin, “staring is rude, y’know,” in his deep, groggy morning voice. It was rare to catch him watching me sleep as I was the early riser of the two of us. But during the day, I’d swear I was his favourite sight. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

This past week also consisted of numerous phone calls to Andy, all from producers begging to sign him to their labels. I was so ecstatic for him, but of course, he was overtly humble as always. After doing his research and attending a few meetings, he decided to go with Rubyworks.

“Andy!” I threw myself into his arms excitedly, squeezing him so hard, I thought he might implode. “I’m so proud of you… we have to celebrate!”

“I’dunno, baby…” he sighed, raking his hands through the back of my hair while I melted into his touch. “This all might blow up in my face yet.”

“Don’t talk rubbish!” I scolded him, peeling my face away with my arms still around him so he could see me frown. “And you deserve to be celebrated. And we have no plans for dinner. Please?”

“Because you’ve twisted my arm,” he gave in, bending down slightly to capture my lips in his. As if I had any control at this point, I autonomously kissed him back, a squeak leaving me when he effortlessly picked me up and sat me on his kitchen island.

He deepened the kiss, one of his hands squeezing my thigh, the other tangled in my hair. I sighed against him, my hands skating across his abdomen. His tongue slipped into my mouth, forcing me to swallow a grunt of his. Both of his hands now slipped up my thighs, stopping just at the crease of my hip with a firm squeeze.

“You’d better stop,” he warned, pupils blown.

“Or what?” I teased, hands now gripping his biceps. Fuck dinner. I’ll give him something better to eat.

“You’ll see later,” he promised with a kiss to my temple, sliding his hands off me. “Let’s get ready now, or it’ll be impossible to drag me out of this house.”

“Fine,” I sighed in faux disappointment, hopping off the table and dragging him behind me by his hand.

I put on my favourite dress; a flowy black number with a corset like top that did me lots of favours in the breast department. I wore some simple three inch heels, sheer black stockings, and a faux leather coat. My hair was slicked back into a wavy ponytail, complimented by some chunky gold jewellery to break up all the darks I had on. I wore Andrew's favourite perfume of mine, Jimmy Choo's Eau De Parfum. I'd always had an illustrious love for fashion, but oftentimes Joe had an issue with my style. Not Andy, though. His jaw just about hit the floor and he looked as if he were close to calling off our plans and just taking me to bed instead. Not that I would have protested... but no, tonight was about him.

He looked edible in a black button up and brown jacket, with those white converse's that were basically fused to his feet at this point. He trimmed his beard down and has doused himself in Tam Dao by Diptique, and when I say he smelt divine, I mean, I considered calling off our plans as well.

At first, we found ourselves in a cheesy karaoke bar that was walking distance from his house. We threw back a couple shots, laughing and cheering on both the good and… not so good performances. Andy always said that despite the voice he was gifted with, he hated singing karaoke. I eventually convinced him to duet Islands in the Stream with me. It was the most fun I’d ever had. He then gave his own rendition of Sex Bomb, and I hate to admit it, but it did something to me. We snacked on shitty street food as we passed through the weekend markets, enjoying our tipsy people watching.

After that, we found a dim lit bar in the west end with live music and cheap drinks for happy hour. We caught a taxi and walked hand in hand from the car to our booth. For once, I loved having everyone's eyes on us. I wanted everyone to see us together, though we weren't really together.

The combination of the sultry jazz band in the background mingling with the effects of too much alcohol too fast had me sliding my foot up his leg, getting a high from watching his eyes darken as he squirmed. He gave me a warning look, to which I innocently sipped at my drink and averted my head to the band, gently applying pressure to his crotch. I felt his hand grip my ankle, and when I thought he'd move me away, he ran his hands up my leg instead, stopping only when he reached my knee. I turned my head back to him quickly, my core growing hot at the feeling. He looked gorgeous, curls framing his face, his eyes fixed on me as if I were the most interesting thing in the room.

His stare challenged mine, almost daring me to keep going. The look in his eyes screamed, "see what will happen," and I have never been one to turn down a dare.

Drunkenly, I slid my finger around the rim of my glass, bringing the salt to my lips as I sucked my finger clean, making effort to show my tongue at first. I pushed it in far deeper than necessary, almost able to hear the way his breath hitched in his throat. His grip on my ankle tightened, and I applied a bit more pressure with my heel.

"I swear to God, I will throw you into a cab right now," his eyes were hooded and narrowed in on me. It felt like a stand off between a predator and prey, despite feeling nothing but safety in his presence.

"You wanna take me home, big boy?" I teased, relishing in the way his cheeks flushed when I used the ridiculous pet name. He loved a good double entendre. Well, triple entendre, really.

I reached across the table to grab his hands, running my thumb over his knuckles. Despite the often heated nature of our exchanges recently, I'd never felt more loved. Maybe that was the wrong word, it was too soon. I'd never felt more secure.

He abruptly got up from the booth, dragging me to the dance floor with him. I laughed wildly, the alcohol buzzing through both of our veins like a freight train. “You hate dancing!”

“I know!” He shouted back over the music, pulling me in close to him by my waist. “But you’re beautiful and you’ve been force feeding me whiskey.”

“Hardly force feeding,” I scoffed, slapping his arm playfully. We swayed to a cover of I’d Rather Go Blind by Etta James, giggling uncontrollably at how uncoordinated we both were. It didn’t matter, it felt good.

Then there was the feeling of someone bumping into me hard, followed by the cold of a drink soaking the back of my legs. I gasped, pushing myself further into Andy to get away from the feeling.

“Sorry,” the woman spoke with no sign of remorse in her tone or expression. Andy was quick to grab a handful of napkins from the table beside us, wiping me down as I blushed embarrassedly. I was sure I was hallucinating when I looked up and saw Joe smirking. Fucking loser.

“Andy,” I pulled him up by his coat from where he was wiping me down. “Let’s go.”

“It’s okay, darlin’, you can’t even tell-“

“No, Joe is here. Let’s leave, please.” I felt hot and nauseous immediately, the glint in his eye from across the room all too familiar. He was going to make me pay for leaving him.

Andrew’s expression turned unreadable, yet he still nodded and stayed close behind me as I quickly fled the bar. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I nodded, acutely aware of how dry my throat felt. “He’s just unpredictable, I’d rather not deal with him tonight. Or, ever for that matter.”

He just hummed in response, lacing his fingers with mine. He pulled out his phone to order us an Uber. I tried to protest, insisting that we hadn’t celebrated him enough. He shushed me with a kiss, reassuring me that tonight was wonderful and he was grateful. I leaned into his body while we waited in the cold, his arm around my shoulder as we watched the traffic pass us by.

“So you are with him?” Joe scoffed, seeming to appear out of thin air. I startled at his voice, scolding myself internally for peeling away from Andy so quickly. “And you couldn't fuckin' wait for the chance to steal her, could you?"

“We aren’t together,” I quickly interjected, ignoring the way Andy’s face faltered at my clarification. “And even if I was, we are over. It’s over. Don’t you understand?”

“I understand that you can’t keep your legs shut.”

I was taken aback by his comment, unable to think of a snarky reply as my cheeks warmed and my jaw slackened.

"That's no way to speak to a woman, show some fuckin' respect," Andrew growled, stepping closer to my ex, absolutely towering over him. Joe tried to get in his face, both of them puffing their chests out like two pigeons. It was kind of sexy. Is that horrible to say?

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Joe bit back, grabbing a fistful of Andrew's shirt.

"Stop!" I shrieked, grabbing Andrews' wrist, trying my hardest to get him away from Joe. "I want to go home."

"Home?" Joe seethed through gritted teeth, his face red as a traffic light.

Andrew shoved Joe back, sending him stumbling, barely finding his footing.

"Andy, I want to go home," my voice was fragile as I tugged on his wrist once more, his expression immediately softening when he saw tears in my eyes. He took my hand in his, leading me away as he checked to see if Joe was hanging around. Looks like the security guard saw him, thankfully.

The Uber rolled up two minutes later and I couldn't have climbed in any quicker. I was beyond grateful to be in a warm car rather than out in the cold with Joe.

"That was fuckin' scary," I huffed, throwing my head back against the headrest.

"I'm sorry," he cooed with a gentle hand threading through my hair. "I shouldn't have said anything to him."

"That was not your fault," I assured him, turning to look at those big, doe eyes that were starting to make me weak.

He gave me a half hearted smile and sat in silence for the rest of the drive. I wondered what he was thinking, but felt it was probably best to just let him feel how he needed to. When we got home, we thanked the driver and walked into Andrews house in silence.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently, standing by as he shucked his coat.

"Yeah," he sighed with a shake of his head, though it wasn't convincing in the slightest.

"Did I do something? Or, say something?" I prodded further, softly taking his hand so he'd look at me.

"Really, it's no big deal," he gave me a half hearted smile, squeezing my hand once before heading for the stairs. "I'm gonna go shower."

I watched as he walked away, wracking my brain for anything that could have happened. Surely seeing Joe didn't upset him.

Then I remembered how fast I was to reassure my ex that Andy and I weren't exclusive. Fuck. I planned out my approach in my head for a while so I didn't dig the knife in deeper.

When I made it to his room, he was in his closet with dampened curls and a towel around his waist, looking for clothes, I presume. I knocked softly to let him know I was at the door.

"Andy?"

He hummed in response, turning only his head to me.

"Is it because I said we aren't together?"

He huffed some half witted laugh, almost as if he were embarrassed.

I walked closer to him, taking his hand into mine. "Well we aren't officially together, Andy." I sighed. "But I guess we kind of are together, aren't we?"

That caught his eye.

"And," I continued, "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with right now." I took his face into my hands, pulling him close as I softly kissed him. His mouth was much warmer than mine and he smelt so fresh and delicious.

Each time we kissed, something deep inside of me sparked like a flint and steel. The near palpable electricity of that spark conducted its way through my lips straight to his. We found a steady rhythm that was soon forgotten, replaced by tongue and teeth, desperate for more. Without breaking contact, we staggered back onto the bed, only the cotton of his towel and the nylon of my stockings keeping our bodies separated. My hands tugged at his soft auburn curls, eliciting encouraging hymns of appraisal that I wished I could devour. His hands dug into my hips harder than he ever had. Not hard enough to hurt me, but hard enough to let me know he wanted me just as bad as I did him.

I moved my mouth to his neck, sucking at his delicate skin, feeling his pulse against my lips. He shuddered and gasped, desperately trying to grind my body against his. The sinful noises he made only made me crave him more, only made me yearn for his beautiful rhapsodies. To hear them alone, without the deafening ring of my own pleasure in my ears, to hear them without my own pants and sighs overwhelming his. Just him, all of him.

"Andy, I really want to suck your cock," I blurted, pulling away to look at him through drooped eyelids. "May I please?"

"Good manners," he joked, his eyes even more lidded than my own. "Of course, baby." He pulled me in for another kiss, his tongue gliding against mine as I let a hand trail down his stomach and underneath his towel. I felt him twitch in my hand as I started to stroke him, his groans reverberating in my mouth.

I had never wanted to knob somebody off so bad. I always hated it with whoever else I was sleeping with. There was something about Andy. He was such a giver that it felt wrong not to give him something back. Like I'd be missing out on a sacred experience if I didn't do it right now. There was no part of me that didn't get pleasure out of pleasuring him.

I pulled my lips from his, sliding down between his legs. I kissed from his jaw to his collarbones, to his chest and then his stomach, watching goosebumps form along his creamy skin, his calloused hands skating along my forearms.

I finally freed him from the towel, watching his cock jump against his happy trail. I took him into my hand, pumping his length a few times to see his facial expression change. My God, was it the most divine sight. Unable to hold off any longer, I licked a flat stripe over his tip, his precum dancing on my tongue.

"Fuck," he practically gasped, gently grabbing the back of my head.

I slowly wrapped my lips around his tip using one of my hands to guide him into my mouth. Without taking his eyes off me, he reached behind his head for a pillow, staring at me like he might die if he looked away. I didn't dare take my eyes off his.

I slowly took more of him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him as I did so. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, borrowing a whimper from my mouth working around him. I pulled off briefly to blink up at him, "tell me how you like it, please."

He whimpered some response, nodding desperately. I put my mouth on him again, looking up for further instruction.

"Stick your tongue out a little," he breathed, the faintest of smiles on his face. "Good, now start movin', baby."

I nodded best I could with my mouth full, bobbing my head at a steady rhythm. I looked up at him through my lashes, my stomach flipping at the sight before me.

"Gooood girl," he praised me, freeing one of his hands from my hair to brush his thumb over my cheek. "Can you go a little faster, angel?"

I hummed in agreement, moving my head along his length faster, keeping my tongue out along the base the way he liked, making sure to hollow my cheeks the best I could. Not that there was much room for that. I moved one hand to steady myself against his thigh, the other slipping down to massage his balls.

"Jesus Christ," he moaned, throwing his head back. "Yeah, that's it. Just like that." My stomach flipped, my core on the verge of boiling over. I swear I could get off on the sight and sounds of him alone.

I took him as deep as I could, fighting off the urge to gag as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. My jaw was aching and tears were threatening to fall from my eyes, but I was determined. I could tell he was close by the unsteady rhythm of his breathing.

He gave my hair a firm tug, a warning, almost as if to give me the option to pull off. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum if you keep going."

I hummed in acknowledgement, no shred of intention to stop in my body.

"Where, baby?" He breathed, the muscles in his stomach beginning to tense. I traced a few shapes with my tongue as a form of communication, my way of showing him where, looking up at him. "Christ, Y/N," he groaned, spilling hot ribbons onto my tongue, his hips stuttering beneath me. I kept my mouth on him as he rode out his high, his face contorted in ecstasy, brows furrowed, mouth agape as his euphonious appraisals slipped from it.

I pulled off, my lips swollen and red, mascara no doubt running down my cheeks, and now uncomfortably horny.

Like he could read my mind, he sat up pulled me into his lap, now kissing my neck. His beard scratched across my collarbones in the most tantalising way, his hands working quickly to unzip my dress. He did so with ease, slipping the material off my shoulders where it pooled in our laps.

"You are perfect," he sighed against my skin, kissing me hard as he palmed one of my breasts. I whimpered against him, my hands in his hair as he buried his face in my chest. One of his hands cradled the bottom of my skull, the other guiding my breast to his mouth as he flicked his tongue across my nipple.

"Andy," I whined, pure need unmistakable in my tone. "Mmh, need you, baby."

He flipped me onto my back without warning, sliding down the bed between my thighs. His eyes were hungry, almost primal. Despite his release only moments prior, he had determination written all over his face as he buried his face between my thighs, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses through my stockings. "Please, I need you now. Please, please," my voice was whinier than I'd ever heard it, so much so I almost didn't recognise it.

My dress was still bunched around my waist, but he didn't seem too inconvenienced. My stockings, however, had no chance of surviving this one. In one fluid movement, he ripped through the crotch of my stockings, tearing them thigh to thigh. I gasped, my stomach flipping at the gesture. He pulled my knickers to the side, sliding his tongue over my clit without warning. Instantly, my back was arching autonomously, my head already thrown back against the mattress.

His tongue flitted against me with expert precision, switching between sucking and licking. "Tell me how you like it," he spoke against me, the vibrations from his voice combined with his soft lips against the most sensitive part of my body making my head go fuzzy. I couldn't even respond, only able to fumble around for his hand.

He slipped two fingers in with ease and I nearly screamed in pleasure. Lewd, wet noises filled the room, my whines and moans somehow even louder than the physical proof of my arousal. His deft fingers worked me to the fastest orgasm known to man, hitting my g-spot with each thrust, his tongue signing love letters onto my clit.

I chanted his name like a mantra, desperately clinging to the bedsheets beneath me as I completely lost myself under his touch. The most incredible feeling ever ripped through my every nerve ending, every fibre, every atom of my being. I shook uncontrollably beneath him, toes curled, eyes screwed shut as I made noises nobody else had ever torn from me. This must be what heaven feels like.

I finally came back down to Earth, panting like I'd ran a marathon. Andy wiped his mouth on the towel, the most satisfied grin I'd ever seen plastered to his face.

"Andy, I-" I stammered, genuinely lost for words as I laid my head on his chest. "I owe you the world. What do you want? Whatever it is, it's yours."

"Are you kiddin' me?" He laughed exasperatedly, kissing my forehead. "I should be givin' you the world. That was the closest to a religious experience I've ever had."

"You'd better write a song about this," I half joked, shimmying my dress off finally.

"Way ahead of ya', darlin'," he sighed in content. "I need to do that more."

"You ruined my stockings, Andy," I sighed in faux disappointment, "but that might have been the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

Then he was back to his shy self, a bashful grin on his face that he covered with his arm, leaving my heart to soar within my chest.

Fuck. I was catching proper feelings. Like... proper. Like, L-Word feelings. The realisation hit me like a tonne of bricks. Andy was to go and record some songs next week. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he got really famous and left me behind? Was I just sex? Was he just a rebound? It all has really moved fast, I shouldn't be getting attached...

"I'm gonna shower," I smiled politely, excusing myself before he had a chance to say anything.

A million thoughts raced through my mind at once. Was I trying to sabotage this for myself? It felt nice to be clean, a nice reset. The water defrosted me, made me feel centred again. I dried off and slipped into one of his hoodies.

"I need to tell you something," I blurted, unable to stop the words from coming out as I walked back into his room.

i did some googling and there might be some confusion (or maybe not, but just in case) when i say stockings i mean toe to hip tights/hosiery. i'm australian lol i apologise if some things don't make sense... i don't like the word hosiery ok

[sunlight-fics]

Hozier X reader Headcanons

Enjoy (I tried)

* Would most definitely let you play with his hair.

* Would lay on your chest when stressed or sick.

* Hugs from behind and random kiss.

* Most definitely leaves love notes.

* When you’re feeling down or stressed he would softly play his guitar for you or run his fingers through your hair.

* Let’s you rant about anything

* Cuddles up to you on cold nights

* You drag him to run in the rain with you and he loves every minute of it.

* Let’s you sometimes do skincare on him for fun

* Likes baking or cooking dinner with you.

* Goes on nature trails with you all the time.

* Mentions you at concerts (especially when he’s about to play your favorite song)

* Thinks you can be ridiculous at times but still loves you

* WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

* Calls you nicknames he randomly makes up

* Bing-watch’s your favorite shows/movies with you.

* You are most definitely his muse and he wouldn’t have any other way.

* Makes it a point to bring flowers home after every tour.

* Goes to farmers markets with you

* Shares his tea with you and you share your coffee with him

* Dances in the rain or kitchen with you while listening to old love songs

* Kisses any of your scars

Notes: Pt.2? Btw, request are open!!!!!!!