#hozier x reader

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLVIII)

Chapter 48 : ‘It’s love almost too fierce to endure, the bee nuzzling like that into the blouse of the rose’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! We’re near the end guys, I’m not okay…

Also, the book thing is inspired by a certain section of the bookshop I work in that I had to take care of for a few weeks as my colleague was on holiday, and I just imagined this scene and couldn’t stop laughing at work!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: 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?

Word Count: 3789

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Hum

What is this dark hum among the roses? The bees have gone simple, sipping, that’s all. What did you expect? Sophistication? They’re small creatures and they are filling their bodies with sweetness, how could they not moan in happiness? The little worker bee lives, I have read, about three weeks. Is that long? Long enough, I suppose, to understand that life is a blessing. I have found them – haven’t you? – stopped in the very cups of the flowers, their wings a little tattered – so much flying about, to the hive, then out into the world, then back, and perhaps dancing, should the task be to be a scout – sweet, dancing bee I think there isn’t anything in this world I don’t admire. If there is, I don’t know what it is. I haven’t met it yet. Nor expect to. The bee is small, and since I wear glasses, so I can see the traffic and read books, I have to take them off and bend close to study and understand what is happening. It’s not hard, it’s in fact as instructive as anything I have ever studied. Plus, too, it’s love almost too fierce to endure, the bee nuzzling like that into the blouse of the rose. And the fragrance, and the honey, and of course the sun, the purely pure sun, shining, all the while, over all of us.

Mary Oliver

Andrew was bored out of his mind.

He loved his family, and dearly so. That was never the point. But his aunt could be so… chatty. Chatty and indecently curious about rumours and everybody’s life.

“You know, your uncle Charles’s neighbours are adding a new room to their house! It’s taking forever, and it makes so much noise!”

“I can imagine, aunty…”

“Yes! And apparently the workers…”

Christ, Andrew had stopped listening. It was impolite but he couldn’t take it anymore.

This yearly gathering was a tradition he loved and hated. It was so nice to have everyone gathered in the same house but it was also dreadfully tiring to be surrounded by so many people, to have to listen to uncle Charles’s neighbours’ adventures with choosing a colour for their new room…

And you had avoided it. You should have come, the way you had attended this traditional gathering for the past two years, but you were off to Scotland for a conference, gone for the entire week. Brilliant… he couldn’t even make you suffer with him through this dreadful conversation…

He drank up a swing of whiskey, tried to distract himself with the old tapestry that covered his grand-parents’ living room, but the sight was too familiar to help with boredom.

And he missed you. Now more than ever, he missed you. So fucking much…

As if on cue, his phone vibrated, and he hurried to grab it when he read your name on the screen. He excused himself, left the conversation with his aunt to walk a few steps away, closer to the cluster his parents and brother were gravitating in.

It was a text, no, a series of texts…

“Oh, let me guess… Y/N is calling?”

Andrew turned to his teasing brother, nudged him playfully on the shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“Where is she again?”

“Scotland.”

“Lucky girl… she should be here…”

“Yeah… she’ll come next year. She’s a main speaker on that conference, she couldn’t come.”

“Of course, of course. But next year we’ll make sure to sit her next to Finn.”

“You’re so cruel! Finn is the most boring of the lot…”

“Are you opposed to the idea?”

“Absolutely not, I would pay to see that.”

Their mother called for Jon, and Andrew seized the opportunity to finally read your texts.

Baby! I’m in a bookshop rn. And I’ve just found a gift for you <3

He tenderly smiled as he kept on reading.

It’s perfect.

It fits your needs perfectly.

It’ll make you greatly improve your skills, and God knows you, of all people, need help in this field.

He frowned a little, wondering what you could be talking about.

He was drinking as he tapped on the picture you were sending to take a better look at the cover, so he could read the title.

How to pleasure a woman: 25 ways to make sure your partner is fully satisfied

He choked on his drink, sending himself in a coughing fit that was sure to catch everybody’s attention.

“You’re alright, honey?” his mother asked, clearly worried.

He hid his phone when she came closer, not wanting her to see the explicit drawing on the cover.

“Good… I’m good. Just…”

He coughed a little more, but was soon back to normal.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, yeah… all good…”

She finally noticed that he was holding his phone.

“Oh, is it Y/N? How is she?”

“She’s fine,” he nodded, clearing his throat in an attempt to bring back his voice. “She’s good.”

“I hope she’ll come next year.”

“Of course! It was just bad luck that her conference was this week, but she wanted to come.”

“I don’t doubt it. Say hello for me, would you?”

“’Course, mom.”

Once Raine had joined back her own conversation, he looked down at his phone again.

His reply was short.

I hate you.

I choked on my drink.

You sent him a series of laughing emoji, and he tried to be annoyed, but he was too amused and too happy to talk to you for that.

Sorry. Didn’t mean to kill you with that one.

He narrowed his eyes.

I only half-believe you.

I think this was an attempt on my life.

Very funny though.

Indeed, he was struggling not to laugh too loudly.

Knew it would break you. Although, the offer to buy it for you still stands.

A cheeky smile appeared on his lips as he answered.

You didn’t seem to think I needed any advice to ‘pleasure a woman’ the night before you left.

He could picture your face right now, as you read his response, he knew exactly how you would look.

Don’t you think you’re overestimating yourself?

His grin didn’t falter.

Do you?

He laughed at your answer.

Maybe not…

Your next text made his smile grow more tender though.

I miss you a lot, by the way. Can I call you tonight?

Someone called for Andrew, he wasn’t sure who, but he hurried to tap an answer.

Of course. I miss you too. A lot. Got to go now, but I’ll call you tonight, alright? I love you xx

He waited for your answer to put his phone back in his pocket, just to read the words he knew would form your answer.

I love you too baby xx

“I can’t believe you almost killed me with that dirty joke in front of my entire family…”

Andrew was lying in his bed, in his pyjamas, feeling the empty space you had left in the bed you shared.

It was late already, almost midnight, and he was tired, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep for another few hours. His habit of being a night owl was turning into full on insomnia while you were away.

Your laugh didn’t sound quite the same through the phone, but his heart still grew warm thanks to it.

“I was trying to entertain you, and I think I’ve succeeded.”

“Oh, you did, you certainly did,” he laughed, slipping a little further down his pillow, his free hand on his forehead.

You looked so fucking beautiful, it was painful at this point. And so adorable. You were in your pyjamas, lying in bed too, you had prompted the phone on the other pillow, lying on your side to face him, as if you were lying in bed together.

And he wanted to reach out and hold you, and kiss you until his lips felt numb, and prove to you once more that he definitely did not need this book of yours.

“How was your family?”

“Good… everybody’s good. My parents and Jon say hello. They miss you.”

“I miss them too.”

God, he was so happy you got along so well with his family, with the people he loved most…

“I miss you more, though. Like… really, a lot.”

Your voice was weaker now, fragile. He offered you a sad smile, the only gesture he could muster.

“I miss you too.”

“You look tired. You need to rest. We should go to bed.”

“Don’t hang up!”

You seemed surprised by his rushed response, by how gingerly desperate he sounded. Why were you? Didn’t you know already he couldn’t fucking breathe without thinking of you?

“Let’s just… if you want us to be quiet, we can just fall asleep on the phone. I… I want to look at you a little longer.”

Your eyes seemed to water at his words.

“I love you so much, you know?”

“I love you too. More than anything in this world.”

You seemed vulnerable now; and he was patient with you, waiting for you to speak again.

“I… I really think you’re the one for me, you know? Like… you’re the love of my life, honey.”

He smiled at your confession, feeling tears gather in his eyes.

When did he get so lucky?

“I feel the same about you.”

You blinked, then bit on your lip while you hesitated. And then you asked the question that seemed to rest on the tip of your tongue.

“Andy… baby, would you? I… Have you ever thought about… us getting married, one day?”

He glanced over at the drawer where he had hidden the ring he had bought for you a few weeks ago. He cleared his throat.

“Erm… yeah… yeah, I have, actually.”

You seemed hesitant, afraid even. And he knew why. Just like he had been terrified of you refusing to move in with him because Sam had rejected him, you were afraid Andrew would reject you now, the way Frank had.

“And? What do you think? Would you? Marry me?”

He chuckled.

“Are you proposing or something?” he joked, but you didn’t laugh, and his smile faltered.

“Yeah, I think I kind of am,” you answered, completely serious, and Andrew’s breath caught in his throat.

And then the panic hit you.

“God… I’ve fucked this up… Christ! I can’t ask you to marry me over the phone! What am I doing?! I don’t even have a ring!”

But Andrew started laughing.

“Darling, please, calm down… I love you.”

“I love you, but I’ve fucked up everything… I should have asked you properly!”

He shook his head, grinning.

“Are you going to say no?” you asked, voice unbearably fragile.

But the tenderness in his gaze and smile didn’t falter.

“I have a whole thing planned. I won’t let you mess up with my plans to propose,” was his answer, and your eyes grew a little round while you started properly crying.

Andrew was laughing, and crying at the same time too.

“You wanted to propose already? Or is it because I’m asking first?” you went on, drying your cheeks on your sleeve.

“I’ve already bought the ring. Weeks ago, in fact.”

“God, Andy… yes…”

“You can’t say yes, yet! I haven’t asked!”

“You didn’t even say yes to me!”

“Well then… yes, Y/N. I want to marry you. But I’m still going to propose to you properly.”

“Okay,” you nodded, crying and laughing and you were so utterly beautiful and perfect like this.

And Andrew’s heart was beating a thousand miles a minute at the thought that you wanted to marry him. You had asked him. And when he would properly propose, you would say yes, he had no doubt about it now.

“If we’re getting married soon, then… we should buy a house together,” you went on after a long, tender silence.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper, unwilling to disturb the warm quiet of the moment.

“Yes… Yes, I want that. Do you?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’d really like that.”

“We should start looking for a house, then. In the countryside, in Wicklow.”

“We would have to drive everyday to Dublin for work.”

“I don’t mind the driving. I want the house in Wicklow you were dreaming of.”

His heart was so full of love, it should have exploded.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s try to find a place like that.”

“I’d really love that, honey.”

“I’d love that too, baby.”

You fell silent together, and then asleep, while still on the phone. Sleeping together despite the many miles that separated you.

It took you a while to find the perfect house.

Not too far from the sea, on the northern part of Wicklow, in a tiny village. A garden for Elwood and for plants to grow, enough room for a pair of offices, and an extra one, that could become either an extra-bedroom for friends and family to visit, or a nursery; none of you had decided yet whether or not you would have children in the future. You added so many bookshelves, and filled them up in no time. His collection and yours mingled and became one.

You painted the walls the colours you liked, and it was warm and comfortable and filled with love. You added pictures on the fridge and in wooden frames, you placed plants in the sunbeams that you watered a couple of times a week. You bought the largest bathtub you could find, and Andrew was so damn grateful for it when he stretched out his long legs under the water.

After a couple of months, the house was fully yours, decorated and organised to your tastes and needs.

Only one thing was missing, still. Or well, two, as a matter of fact.

Andrew was playing with Elwood in the garden that morning when you walked out, hurrying towards him.

“Honey!”

He looked up, attentive.

“I need you to do me a huge favour.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow but didn’t interrupt you. You tried not to be distracted by the thought that came to your mind as you looked at him, at the tenderness that grew within your heart because of his outfit. An old hoodie, some simple jeans and a low bun. He looked so casual, so comfy. You wanted to burry your face in that hoodie of his and never leave his arms…

“I need you to go for a long walk with Elwood and not come back before two.”

He frowned hard, narrowing his eyes.

“Why?”

“I have a surprise for you.”

His expression changed from sceptical to excited in the blink of an eye.

“But it’s a surprise, and I need to prepare a few things… and I need you out of the house.”

“Is it for my birthday?”

“You’re getting your gift a week early,” you nodded, knowing that you couldn’t have his gift delivered on his birthday, as it was a national holiday.

“Okay, I’ll leave. Goodbye. God… can I have a clue? What is it? Is it…”

He bent down to cover Elwood’s ears.

“… lingerie? Something sexy?”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“It isn’t, I’m afraid.”

He pouted.

“Can we still have a lot of sex for my birthday?”

“Yes!” you laughed, feeling your skin warm up at the mere thought. “But not today. Today is your actual gift.”

Andrew raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Having mind-blowing orgasms with you is most definitely a gift, darling.”

You cleared your throat, trying not to yield and get aroused by him now… now he needed to leave, because the gifts would arrive any minute now…

“But it’s not your birthday now, is it? Off with both of you, boys! I have evil plans to prepare!”

Andrew left then, but not before stealing several kisses, planting a brown cap on his head before going to the beach with Elwood.

Meanwhile, the two hives you had bought for him as a birthday present were on their way, and they were delivered and set up in your garden while Andrew was away, just as planned. Once everything was ready, you texted Andrew for him to come home. He must have driven too fast, because he was back in no time, excited like a little boy in a candystore.

“Alright, it’s in the garden,” you told him.

“In the garden?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a plant?”

“No… you can go see what it is. Happy birthday, baby.”

“God, what is it?” he asked, kissing you again and again and again instead of simply going to take a look in the garden. “It is a comfortable chair? Is it a tree?”

“Love! Go see what it is!” you laughed at him, pecking his lips one last time before leading the way to the garden.

You stared at him as he stepped outside, noticed the new wooden boxes in an instant. You didn’t want to miss any of this…

He walked closer, his mouth slightly agape, frowning. And for a moment you were worried. You let him walk closer, look at the hives for a long minute in silence.

“You… you’re not happy with it?” you asked, your voice shy now instead of excited.

“Are these… are these hives?”

“Yeah! We have an appointment with a local beekeeper right after your birthday to get swarms. He’ll tell us all we have to know, and he said he would train us and help us take care of the hives for a while. And then, when we’re comfortable enough, we’ll take care of the bees on our own. He even said that we could ask him to borrow his stuff to make our honey!”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

But when he turned to you, Andrew was crying.

“I’ve always wanted to have hives.”

“I know.”

“I love bees.”

“I know, baby.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say, so he merely cursed at himself for ‘being such a sap’ and dried his cheeks before taking you into his arms, holding you tight.

“I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you for everything,” he whispered into your ear.

You fought against your own tears.

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

“Are you happy?”

He laughed, as if there wasn’t a more ridiculous question in the world.

“Christ, yes! I’m so fucking happy, Y/N. You make me so happy…”

You knew Andy was about to propose.

He was taking you on a date, and he had told you to dress up for it. A special occasion, he had said.

You were so fucking nervous, wondering what he had planned. You had been together for  three years, tonight was your anniversary. Was it too soon to sign up for life? You didn’t think so. You knew Andrew was the one. You loved him more than you had ever loved before, and if you fought sometimes, or were annoyed or even angry at each other, you had no doubt that you would never be as happy as you were with him with someone else. Despite the bumps and unhappy moments that life was doomed to be plagued with, Andrew was the ray of sunshine that made you happy to get up in the morning.

You took one last look at your reflection in the mirror. You had opted for a green dress, Andrew loved that colour on you. You were ready. Christ, you were so nervous, but you were also so excited at the thought that Andrew was going to propose, that he wanted to spend his life with you…

A little voice at the back of your head kept on reminding you that Frank had disappointed you, that he must have proposed because he felt obligated to do so, somehow, that maybe Andrew would back down tonight as well… but you didn’t want to listen to it. You loved him, so much.

You walked down the stairs to find Andrew looking like pure sin. Dark pants and your favourite brown shirt, his hair only half-tied up in a bun, the rest falling on his shoulders in pretty curls. His glasses perched on his nose while he petted Elwood and got ready to leave. You felt weak on your knees at the mere sight of him.

He heard you walking down the hallway and you noticed how his lips parted at your sight, heard the sharp intake of breath he took. It was still hard to think that he had such a reaction for you.

“Hey,” you smiled shyly at him.

He struggled to swallow, you saw his Adam’s apple jump.

“Hey. You… wow, babe… you’re so beautiful.”

You grinned.

“Thank you. You look so handsome too.”

He chuckled, blushing.

“Thanks. Erm… are you ready to go?”

You nodded, eager to discover his plans.

You left Elwood in your home while Andrew was driving you out of Dublin, somewhere in the country side.

“Where are we going?” you asked, but Andrew shook his head.

“It’s a surprise.”

“So mysterious.”

“Trust me.”

You smiled tenderly as you rested your hand on his leg.

“You know I do.”

You chatted casually for the rest of the ride, but then you came to a stop near a field, with a wood on the edge of the tall barley. You were certain that you recognised this place, and you looked at Andrew with a silent question in your eyes. But he didn’t say anything, merely smiled, and walked out of the car before opening the door for you.

“Close your eyes.”

You obeyed, and he guided you further down a tiny path. A couple of minutes later, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in an embrace, your back pressed against his torso.

“You can open your eyes now.”

You started crying as you took in the sight in front of you. A picnic, in the same clearing, with the same lights hanging from branches, with that same movie projected on a large white sheet…

Exactly like your first date. Precisely the date you had always dreamt of.

“Andy…”

“Are you happy?”

You nodded, unable to summon words.

He kissed the space between your shoulder and neck. The night had started darkening the sky with shades of purple, golden hues slowly sinking with the sun. And the leaves were bathed in this strange light, the sunset making the scene even more magical. You tried not to cry, but you didn’t stand a chance.

“This was our first date, do you remember?” he asked against the shell of your ear. “I was so nervous that night. I was so scared you wouldn’t love me…”

“I already did…”

He pulled away, letting you turn around to face him.

He let out a breathy, nervous chuckle, running his fingers through his hair.

“I should wait for the end of the evening for this, but I don’t think I’ll have the nerves for it…”

He took a small, velvety box out of his pocket, you covered your mouth with your hand as you started crying.

“Yes…” you answered already, making him laugh, although his eyes were reddening with tears as well.

“Love, I haven’t asked the question yet.”

“Sorry,” you breathed.

“I… I wrote you something, but I… I feel too embarrassed to read it out loud in front of you. So, I’ll just… I’ll just let you read it.”

He took a piece of paper out of his pocket too, handed it to you. You unfolded the paper, read the title of the poem he had written for you.

First Light.

You were crying so hard at that point, it was hard to read the end of the poem, but you couldn’t help it.

When you looked at Andrew again, he was down on one knee, brushing tears away.

“Y/N, my darling… I love you so much… Would you marry me?”

“YES!”

You let yourself fall into his arms, both of you kneeling on the ground, crying in your shared embrace, grinning like lovesick fools, like stupidly happy idiots…

When he slipped that ring on your finger, you realised that you had never been as happy as you were in that moment.

[starkwlkr]

i’m getting older too | hozier

is this random? yes but i don’t care 🥰 LISTEN I KNOW sweet dreams, tn is a song by the last shadow puppets but let’s just use our imagination with this one ok? 😍

faceclaim orion carloto

INSTAGRAM

liked by billieeilish, carolamtz and 2,366,780 others

yourusername married the love of my life!

billieeilish BEAUTIFUL BRIDE 🤍🤍🤍

bellahadid beauty ✨

lilizneimer congratulations!!

landonorris am i still grounded?

yourusername we’re all good now 🤍

honeymoon such a beautiful ceremony ❤️ in love with your love

ynstyle was every celebrity and f1 driver at this wedding?😭

cherrywin3 girl apparently stevie nicks even performed 😔😭

formulatears I NEED TO KNOW WHAT SHE SANG

cherrywin3 landslide because it’s y/n’s favorite song 😭 y/n’s mom just posted a video of y/n crying while stevie sang it’s too precious 🥹

view all 45,466 comments

liked by landonorris, honeymoon and 2,665,890 others

hozier y/n, my heart is, and will always be, yours. ‘sweet dreams, tn’ a gift from me to my beautiful wife.

hozierarchive HE DROPPED AN ALBUM DURING HIS WEDDING??

ynspodium not just any album but an album full of songs that y/n loves covered by him and some original songs too!!

leclercstype STEVIE NICKS, LANA, LORDE, THE LAST SHADOW PUPPETS, NOAH KAHAN, LORD HURON HE GATHERED THE DEPRESSION AVENGERS AND MADE AN ALBUM FOR HIS WIFE 😭

f1wagsstyle WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN??

yourmomsusername y/n is currently sobbing listening to the album!

ynwdc not mama l/n exposing her daughter 😭 but same!

view all 76,366 comments

liked by hozier, gracieabrams and 2,366,390 others

yourusername 🇮🇪❤️☘️🎵🫶🏼✨💍👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️🤍

landonorris did you have a seizure or….?

yourusername you’re grounded again let me be in love with my hot irish husband on my honeymoon

landonorris you keep that to yourself

f1maeve my brother started watching f1 because of you!! (and he’s hoping to see hozier at a race)

yourusername thanks to your brother!! maybe andrew will finally make an appearance soon 🤍

crybabyprimadonna what’s your favorite song from sweet dreams, tn?

yourusername don’t make me choose!!😭 they all have my heart (but andrew’s cover of landslide with stevie is amazingly beautiful)

hozier wofe

hozier wufe

hozier ife

hozier wafie

hozier woife

yourusername handsome squidward 😍❤️

hozier wife ❤️

charles_leclerc i have no idea what’s going on

yourusername you wouldn’t understand ❤️

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Talk

As a famous singer, you find yourself at the same terrible party as Hozier, but you two decide to do something about it.

Pairing: fem reader x Hozier

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, p in v (protected) sex, fingering, 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who waited for this one...I'm so sorry it took so long. Please enjoy, and remember, my inbox is open for requests!

This party sucked.

Somehow, at one of the biggest album release parties of the year, you found yourself bored out of your mind, sipping on a weak gin and tonic. Leaning against a corner wall, the bass of the music from the DJ vibrated through you as you watched other people dance – your bandmates were somewhere amongst them, but for whatever reason, you just weren’t feeling it. Maybe you were just in a mood, maybe it was the music (one good song for every ten awful ones), but you sipped your drink, checking your phone every so often until it became a polite time to excuse yourself. You could already taste the revelry of getting back to your house before midnight – pajamas, Thai takeout, and scrolling aimlessly on your phone while Grey’s Anatomy reruns played in the background.

Suddenly, you saw a head bobbing around the others in the crowd – standing what seemed like almost a full foot above everyone else, his thick, curly hair pulled back in a half bun, he smiled and tilted his head to the music distractedly. Your breath hitched for a moment as you saw him – you had seen Hozier at countless red carpets and events in the past year it seemed, but he was also more handsome than the last time. He turned his head and your eyes locked, making you blush, and making him smile. He gently pressed a hand on someone’s back to alert that he was making his way behind him.

As if the giant could ever go unnoticed.

“Hi,” He said as he landed next to you, sipping from his drink. Something brown and in a rocks glass, one giant ice cube anchoring the liquid.

Of course.

“I feel like I needed to come over and speak to you – we seem to orbit each other at basically every red carpet this year.” He spoke, seemingly reading my mind. You smiled.

“That’s funny – I was just thinking that.”

Hozier nodded and his eyes scanned the crowd before landing back at you. It was like he was staring into your soul. Extending a hand, he smiled, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m –”

“I know who you are,” You admitted, somewhat bashfully as you shook his hand. “I’m a big fan. I’m–”

“I know who you are,” He echoed, a smirk playing on his lips mischievously, “I’m a big fan.”

You could feel your blush deepen as his smooth words washed over you. His accent was enough for you to want to drop your panties, and his smile was already sending your head upside down.

“Your ‘Best New Artist’ win was well deserved,” He continued. “Your album was one of my favorites this year. Selfishly, I hope you guys are working on another one.”

“Wow, thank you,” You breathed, your heart thumping in your chest, “That means a lot coming from one of like, the best lyricists of our generation.”

“Ah,” Hozier waved his hand, bashful, “Come now.”

You cocked an eyebrow and smiled, “You’re going to write something like ‘I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found, I'd be the choiceless hope in grief, that drove him underground’ and not expect to be considered that?”

He simply shrugged and sipped his drink. He was blushing, embarrassed.

“This album was also very good,” He changed the subject, speaking of the current album release party. He cleared his throat, “Even though this party sucks.”

You laughed and gently grabbed his forearm in agreement, “Yes! What is that about?!”

“I think it’s the DJ,” He admitted, leaning into you, “The guys releasing this album are buddies of mine, but I’m starting to think if I need to end our friendship based on the DJ they picked for this party.”

“The music he’s playing is making me feel old,” You admitted, “I don’t know any of the songs, and I don’t seem to really like it, either. Is this what our parents feel like when we were listening to Good Charlotte and Britney Spears?”

“Not mine. My mom loves Good Charlotte.” His eyes twinkled.

You laughed. Your eyes fell on your bandmates dancing to the music, obviously drunk off of the expensive beer being served at the open bar. You were acutely aware of Hozier standing next to you, his heat seemingly radiating.

“Is it an inappropriate time to tell you that I think you look beautiful tonight?” He asked, his breath warm on your ear as he leaned down to whisper it. Shivers were sent down your back as he spoke. You turned your head and looked at him, trying to play it cool with the smile that played on your lips.

“Probably not, considering how I’ve been thinking about how handsome you look since I saw you from across the room tonight.” You retorted, titling your head. He smiled and nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“I’m reminded of your beauty every time I see you at events,” Hozier said, his hand finding the small of your back, “And, admittedly, every time I scroll your Instagram feed.”

You laughed, “Hozier is my internet stalker, eh?”

“Can you blame me? That number you had on at the Grammy’s this year?” He made a face, whistling, “It took every ounce of strength not to follow your account as soon as you were done presenting on stage.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” You asked, almost interrupting him. He seemed taken aback, so you tried to backtrack, “I mean…in a bit. We could go somewhere where…the DJ doesn’t suck? After we finish our drinks.”

Hozier quickly chucked back the rest of his drink, putting the glass on the nearest table. “Let’s go.” He took your hand as you chugged the rest of yours as well, finding the spot next to his glass for yours.

He guided you through the party, his hand never leaving the small of your back. You felt heat rushing through you as you made your way to front door, and Hozier handed the valet his ticket. He turned to you.

“Did you drive here?”

You shook your head. “Car service.”

“Great. We can take my car then.”

As the valet pulled up in a sleek Audi, Hozier thanked him and handed him a large bill as a tip. He waited until you were situated in your seat before he slid into the driver’s side, closing his door and pulling into traffic. Some sort of blues-y jazz was coming through the speakers softly.

“So where are you kidnapping me to, Mr. Internet Stalker?” You teased, looking out the window at the lights of downtown L.A.

He smiled, “My hotel,” His voice was a low purr. You exchanged a glance as he leaned his head forward, in explanation, “The bar there is really nice. Live jazz band tonight. It’s mellow.”

You nodded and smiled. As your heart raced, you were trying to calm yourself down, fiddling with the clasp on the purse in your lap. Hozier’s arm was resting on the console in between you, and every so often, his hand inched closer to you. By the time he pulled into the swanky hotel parking lot, his large hand was resting gently on your thigh.

Your stomach was in excited knots.

After another valet exchange, Hozier took your hand and led you inside the hotel. It was grand and beautiful – a $500/night type place. To the right of the entrance was a beautiful restaurant, speakeasy in style. As promised, a four-piece band was set up in the corner of the bar, playing soft tunes and creating the atmosphere of an underground jazz club.

“Told you,” Hozier said, raising his eyebrows playfully, “And the drinks are great as well. Had one before the release party.”

“It’s really nice.” You awkwardly agreed. Hozier stopped for a moment, his face unreadable. He stood before you.

“I also have a minibar upstairs in my room, if you want something to drink.”

“Oh, that sounds much better.” The coil in your belly was itching to be sated, and you didn’t know how much you could play this cat-and-mouse game of will they/won’t they. For a moment, a darkness of lust flickered in his eyes, but he simply smiled and took your hand, leading you to the elevator. He scanned his room card and pressed the button to the top floor.

The air in the elevator was thick, heavy. You both stood facing the door, saying nothing. As the doors open and he led you to his suite, your heartbeat doubled in time. Flicking the lights on, he shut the door behind you, placing the lock in it’s place.

It took all of 30 seconds before your bodies crashed together, teeth clacking and moans erupting.

Hozier grabbed you and pushed your floor length dress up so they he was able to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed. Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers finding their way into his hair. You pulled back slightly, your breath ragged already.

“So what the fuck do I call you?” You asked, breathlessly.

Confused, he looked at you, “What?”

“I need to know what I’m saying when I scream your name later…is it Hozier, or is it Andrew?”

He barked out a laugh and bit your lip, “Andrew. Andrew is fine.” He pressed his lips on yours again, dropping on top of you as he guided you to the bed. His large hands ran their way up and down your waist, palming at the skin on your body. He was moaning, grunting into the kiss, as your tongues danced together. You felt his hands leave your waist and slip your heels off, your toes already curling.

Andrew pulled away and slipped off the tweed suit jacket he was wearing. He looked down at you as he shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

“So fucking beautiful,” He murmured, pressing hot kisses down your neck. “So fucking sexy. Every time I see you.”

You moaned and pressed your hips to him slightly, causing him to gasp lightly in surprise. He kissed down your neck, to your collarbone, gently slipping the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders. Licking a stripe from your neck to just above your breasts, he smiled, looking at you.

“Fuck,” You breathed, looking down at him. You watched as he stood, slipping off his shoes and socks next to the bed. He unbuttoned his dress shirt and slipped that off, revealing his thin, hairy chest. He was lean, built lithly but strong. Biting your lip, you stifled a moan. He was on you once again, pulling you into a kiss, his hand cradling the back of your neck. His other hand made quick work of the zipper on the back of your dress, and he shimmed it down, before sliding it off of you completely.

Revealing the intricate…shapewear…you wore underneath.

For a moment, both of you stopped breathing, looking down at the ugly, functional corset that covered your body. Embarrassed, you pressed your lips together before looking back at Andrew. Suddenly, both of you were in hysterics.

“I really wish I was wearing some sexy lingerie right about now.” You said, throwing your head back and cackling. Andrew laughed and peppered kisses on your cheeks, shaking his head as he undid the shapewear and took that off as well.

“That was brilliant,” He said, wiping a tear away from laughing, “What a fuckin’ reveal.” As he took it off, you were completely nude, your skin softly pressed against his fingers. He groaned as he took you in, “That’s much better.” His voice was back to husky, low.

He kissed you once more before his fingers found their way to your clit, spreading your legs gently. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as his fingers felt your wetness. Quickly, he inserted two fingers, pushing his long digits all the way in. You moaned and furrowed your brow as he didn’t move for a moment, letting you adjust.

“You’re so wet for me already, darlin’.” He purred, his forehead on yours. You whimpered and nodded. He started to pump inside of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. Immediately you started to squirm, which made me smile.

“Jesus Christ, Andrew.” You said, your eyes flickering to his fingers moving in and out of you. Heat rose in you as you watched him, the pleasure evident on his face as he licked his lips. When your eyes found his again, you found him looking at you, and not his handiwork.

“I love seeing you like this,” He said plainly, “You’re so beautiful when you squirm.”

He increased his speed, causing you to buck your hips. He nodded, his eyes twinkling, as he continued to pleasure you with his fingers. He leaned down to kiss you – a hot, open-mouthed kiss, with his tongue finding yours immediately. You moaned into it as he curved his fingers inside of you and took your bottom lip in his mouth, sucking gently. Pulling away, he dipped his head and moved his tongue to your hardened nipple, sucking on the bud as your body started to convulse under him.

The coil in your belly was tightening, and fast. Your hips started to buck faster, your wetness pooling out on to his fingers. You started to repeat his name like a prayer, and as you moved closer to the edge, your hand found its way into his hair again, tugging lightly.

“I’m close.” You whimpered.

“I know,” He smiled, moving his mouth to your ear, “Come for me. Be a good girl.”

You gasped slightly at his words as the coil snapped, bucking your hips one last time before your orgasm sent waves of pleasure through you. You moaned loudly, gripping the back of his head tightly as he bit down on your earlobe, never stopping his fingers inside of you.

“That’s it,” He groaned, his voice raspy, “That’s it, pretty girl. Give it all to me. Show me how pretty you are when you come for me.”

Your head swam and your heart raced, your eyes squeezed shut because you could focus. The pleasure that was spreading through you was warm, electric – it was one of the best orgasms you had ever had, and it was only with his fingers.

Jesus Fuckin’ Christ.

After a few moments, Andrew slipped his fingers out, causing you to open your eyes, your breath coming in heaving pants. He was smiling, obviously proud. Slowly, he licked his digits as he stood, moaning.

“Jesus, you taste delicious.” He said, looking at you. He undid the button and zipper on his pants, the obvious tent of his arousal very evident before he slipped them off. Down came his pants and boxer briefs, his large member springing free, wet with precum. He made his way over to a duffle bag thrown on a chair in the corner of the room and rifled through it, finally emerging with a condom in between his fingers. Opening it quickly, he slid it on himself, pumping himself a few times as he walked back to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Are you ready?” He asked, straddling himself in front of you, continue to stroke himself.

“Actually, if you’re not inside of me within the next few seconds I might lose my fucking mind.” You said, watching him. It was silly, but seeing him touch himself in front of you like that made him seem like a god. He smiled and crawled on top of you, slowly positioning himself at your entrance. As his tip teased your wet folds, you whimpered.

Finally, Andrew slid himself inside of you in a single thrust, his forehead finding yours again. Your moans filled the room, and as he started to pump inside of you, the familiar numb feeling of being filled spread throughout you.

“So good,” You said, closing your eyes and pressing your head to the pillow, “So, so good, Andrew.”

“That’s it,” He said, his breath hitching, “Wanna make you feel good. You make my cock feel so good.” He dipped his head in the crook of your neck as he started to slowly increase his pace, finding himself deeper inside of you. The sound of your wet skin slapping together filled the room, matched only by your breathy groans and his primal grunts.

“Fuck!” You shrieked, Andrew finding a particular spot that made your vision fuzzy. Andrew tilted his head up to look at you and he smiled.

“Yeah? Right there, darlin’?” He asked. You nodded, your brows knitted together. His hand found your chin, holding it roughly, “You like it when I fuck you right there?” You nodded again but he shook his head, “Lemme hear you say it, baby.” He gently commanded.

“Fuck. Yes, Andrew, right there!” You said, unable to take your eyes off of him. His eyes darkened as he continued to fuck you, his face flushing.

“My name sounds so good on your lips.” He groaned, continuing to pump in you. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he continued to hit your spot. His hand moved from your chin to your tits, and as he pinched your hardened nipples, you moaned. His thrusts became erratic, irregular.

“You’re close already, aren’t you?” You toyed with him, taking a moment to bite down on his bottom lip, “My pussy so good you’re gonna come for me?”

“Fuck,” He barked, furrowing his brows, “You’re so fucking tight…you’re so wet…I’m gonna come soon. I’m close,” His face flushed deeper as he stared into your eyes, making your heart thunder in your chest. Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut, his head thrown back, voice parted in a silent moan.

You felt his cock twitch inside of you, the condom filling with his orgasm. He jerked his hips, almost a spasm, as he moaned your name. His hands gripped the pillows on either side of you, his biceps flexing. You smiled as he finally opened his eyes, almost in submission as he rode out his orgasm. Your hands found their way to his back, gripping him and bringing him closer.

A few moments went by as he stayed inside of you, trying to catch up with his breathing. He placed gentle kisses on your cheek lazily, finally rolling out of you. Standing, he quickly made his way to the bathroom to toss the condom and clean himself up, but laid next to you again, scooping you up in his arms.

“You’re fucking incredible.” He murmured in your ear, his Irish accent coming out with his tired demeanor. You giggled and looked at him, brushing a sweaty lock of hair behind his ear.

“I’m really glad that party sucked so bad,” You said. He chuckled, his eyes still closed. Opening one, he looked down at you.

“Me too…” He paused for a moment, drawing you closer, “Though, even if that party was fun, I still would’ve made my way over to you.”

“Yeah?”

Andrew nodded and shifted so he was propping himself up on his elbow, “Yeah. I had been trying to muster up the courage for like…three awards shows to come over and say hi to you, now. Months worth of time.” He was somewhat bashful. You blushed.

“Well I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” He reached out and started to brush his fingers through your hair, and you couldn’t help the fluttering in your chest.

That party sucked. But you were glad it did.

---

A/N: I'm actually kind of obsessed with their banter and relationship...should I make this multiple parts?! I was originally only planning on doing this as a oneshot but I kind love them (teehee).

As always, comments and reblogs mean a lot if you liked this one <3 Thanks for reading

[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.”

[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.”

[shrike-fic]

inexperienced reader x 'i secretly play the flute thinking about you (respectfully)' hozier?

Sorry this took so long yall, I’m constantly busy with…….. interesting stuff. Hope you enjoy :)

⭐️ Hozier zerkin it ⭐️

Warnings: smut pure smut

—————————————————

Andrew got home late into the night after one of your bar excursions. His head was swirling with cheap beer and whiskey laced memories of just a few hours ago, going over what happened as to maybe have some sort of recollection of any of it in the morning. Thoughts of you dancing together, taking shots together, laughing together plagued him as he swayed through the house.

Briefly grinning to himself at this secret admiration for you, he’s taking his coat off and practically ripping his shoes off after he gets into his room. As much as he’d love to pass out on his worn in bed right then and there, he figures it’d be unhygienic to sleep in his bed with clothes that he’d been in all day. In his hazy mind, he stands up with a groan, grabs his shower towel and starts walking towards the house’s bathroom.

As Andrew prepares his shower and strips down, he can’t help but think of some things that you.. drunkenly confessed to him. You confided to him about some things that you may or may not (definitely have not) done. He was shocked of course, how could a girl like you not have men practically falling at your feet? Lighthearted teasing ensued between the two of you concerning who had done what and where and when, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around what you said.

He steps in, his feet hitting the cool tile, and his hand having a matching feeling pressed to his palm as he uses the wall to steady himself. Turning on the water, he melts into the much needed steady warm stream that was pouring over him.

God, how nice it would be if you were in there with him.

He knits his brows at the thought of that, face turning pink with nobody but the droplets on his skin and the shower head to witness it. He feels slightly guilty from this, with you being his closest friend thinking of you in this way seemed wrong. But some part of him knew that deep down thats what he really wanted. Desperately wanted. His head wasn’t getting any clearer the longer he spent in the shower, which made him feel dirty no matter how well he cleaned the whole of himself.

The longer he stayed in that shower, the longer that heat grew between his legs. He knew he was half-hard by now, his dick practically begging to be touched. He harshly sighed out, almost a scoff, and quickly turned the water to cold to maybe sober him up and get rid of some of these dirty thoughts. What was he, a teenager?

With his hair being scruffed up in a towel, and some boxers haphazardly thrown on, he made his way back into his room where he so desperately wanted to collapse in. He fell back into his bed, letting his legs kick up a bit at that motion. After laying there with his legs hanging off the bed, he decides to swing them up and under the covers where the rest of him follows. He rubs his face with both of his hands, knowing deep down how utterly screwed he is. You had just confessed a deeply personal secret to him, and he’s being plagued with all the things that he’d love to do to you.

Heaven knows the splash of cold water on himself didn’t work. It hardly sobered him up, but it did nothing to keep those deliciously hedonistic thoughts out of his head. So there he was, knees slightly bent with his stomach clenched and his hand working his stiff and leaking cock up and down. His head was tossed to the side of his pillow, thrown back with his knitted brows framing his strained face, and his clean pair of boxers somewhere in his messed up sheets.

His lips were parted, with wanton groans and quickened breath spilling out of it. Oh how he wished it was your hand instead of his. His breath hitched and let out a desperate noise at the thought of this, quickening his pace, moving his other hand to comb through his hair.

He wondered how your hand would feel. Softer and smaller than his, not as confident in your actions, yet still wanting to help please him the best you could. His thoughts raced from your hands, to your lips, to what you would taste like. How he’d kill to find all of this out; to experience all of you. His mouth falls open deeper, with his desperate noises becoming louder and needier the longer he stroked his leaking cock.

Pre cum was dribbled on his pale lower stomach, his hips slightly bucking into his thoroughly moving hand. Thumb rubbing up against the hot red tip of his cock provided the perfect amount of friction to get him so close to falling off that edge. His back arching and him twitching in his own hands, he could see stars in behind eyes and feel the knot in his stomach snap as he pumped himself those last few times.

One last cry, and Andrew was sloppily bucking his hips into his hand releasing his cum onto his stomach and fingers. He pumped himself through it, nearing to the point of overstimulation— he just couldn’t get enough of you. Finally he released his spent dick from his hand, and laid there with a mess all over himself. After catching his breath for a minute, he reached over to his nightstand and cleaned himself off with a tissue. Cursing himself lightly as to why he would bother to take a shower just to do this to himself directly afterward.

He wasn’t totally free of guilt after finishing to the thought of you, he just didn’t really know how to deal with it. The best solution he could come up with? Sleep it off. Which would be great, but who the hell is calling him at such a late time? He groggily reaches over to the nightstand to pick up his phone ready to grumble at whoever was calling him at an hour like this, only to realize it was your name at the top of his screen.

He answers the phone, feeling a bit more guilty than before.

“Hey.. ehm… are you alright? Why are you calling this late?”

“You were supposed to call me when you got home, I was worried you hadn’t made it or something” You say with a slight scolding voice.

“Ah I’m very sorry, I was.. in the shower.”

He cringes at himself and covers his eyes with his hand.

[willowlovesthingsss]

i need tumblr to add a saved feature 😭😭 so many amazing fics i will never see again

[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

[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!!

[pendingnomdeplume]

hold me hard and mellow pairing: hozier x female!reader rating: explicit (18+) tags: Miscommunications/Misunderstandings, Pining, Drunk Flirting, Drunk Sex words: 4.0k

[Read it on AO3]

title from Pillowtalk by Zayn divider by: sylusz

Though your 30th birthday was months ago, it’s difficult to ignore some of the changes that aging has brought on. You’ve noticed a few new gray hairs sprouting where there were none before, and your cheeks have lost some of the cherubic plumpness that made you look like a high schooler attempting to swindle shops for alcohol every time you wanted a beer. These changes don’t bother you. In fact, you’re excited to look a little bit older, more like your actual age. 

What catches your attention is entirely different. Something embarrassing, really. Something that you’ve been mildly self-conscious of while living in a giant, moving tin can with several other people and absolutely no privacy.

It takes exactly one Google search to confirm what you already started to suspect. 

Why am I so aroused all the time??? 

The question marks aren’t necessary, but they feel right given how perplexed you are by this development. What’s returned is page after page of different threads and message boards, all filled with women over the age of 30 confirming that, yes, their libido also increased with age. In fact, it seems fairly commonplace for women to experience their sexual peak a little bit later in life. 

While you’re relieved that this phenomenon isn’t unusual, you’re still frustrated by the fact that you feel insatiable. There’s absolutely no time to take care of yourself as often as you’d like, no space with enough privacy to even try. Your bunk on the tour bus is your only sanctuary, but even then, the curtains are easily ripped from their velcro tabs, and someone is always awake when you’re at your most desperate. 

Hotel rooms aren’t any better. You always end up sharing the space, which you can’t begrudge anyone for, really. It’s a matter of pragmatism made up for by all of the other perks of touring with Hozier—or, Andrew, as he prefers from colleagues. 

Therein lies your other issue: Andrew is currently the bane of your entire fucking existence. Not for any malicious reason, it’s just…well, you have eyes, and he’s an attractive lad. A kind lad. Funny, sensitive, talented—the list goes on. But he’s Hozier, for Christ’s sake. If he’s not a household name by now, he’s very well on his way with the release of “Too Sweet,” perhaps to his chagrin. 

Honestly, it’s just a silly crush that you would handle a lot better were it not for the fact that you live within 20 feet of the man constantly. You’re either singing on stage behind him, or sitting a stone’s throw away from him on the bus. The only reprieve you get is on hotel nights, but even then, you’ve been dragged out for dinner and drinks on several occasions, somehow always ending up either seated directly across from him or squished into a booth next to him. 

Recently, you’ve been trying to maintain a reasonable distance. You’ve stepped out of rooms he’s entered, hidden around corners as he strides by, and recused yourself from group outings for your own peace. It’s not as though anything would ever come of your crush, and it’s better to maintain space than force yourself into proximity to him and suffer at the hands of your own libido.

Honestly, you never expected him to take notice. Sure, he’s kind to you, and he’ll strike up a conversation with you when he’s in the mood, but otherwise, you’ve always thought of yourself as inconsequential. Not like Alex or Rory who have been with him since the beginning. Not like Larissa who enmeshes themself into the fold with their radiating energy and charm, nor Kamilah who is the human embodiment of glee.  

Tonight is another night of planned avoidance. The group is getting ready to go out for dinner and enjoy their evening off before the show the next night. You’ve already declined the invitation in the group chat, already fended off Joy and Mel who follow you with exaggerated pouts and pleas. In the end, they respect your decision to stay behind and promise to bring something back for you. 

With the next few hours to yourself, you curl up in bed and crack open the same book you’ve been attempting to read for the past few days—some fantasy novel with a gratuitous amount of steamy, spicy scenes that are…a little silly, if you’re being honest. But it’s fun, nearly brainless entertainment. A dessert of a novel, or perhaps the after-dinner mint. 

A quiet, polite knock at the door startles you out of your reading not even 20 minutes later. You wonder if it’s Mel, if she forgot her damn room key again, and hop out of bed in your pajama shorts and tank top without another thought. 

When you open the door, you’re surprised to find that it’s Andrew on the other side, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. 

“Oh, hey!” You greet, befuddlement obvious in your voice. “What’re you doing here? I thought you went out with everyone else.”

Andrew shakes his head. “Nah, I wasn’t feeling up for it tonight.”

“Ah.” There’s a few beats of silence as you stare at each other, until you finally ask, “Did…did you need something, or…?” Because, really, why the fuck is he here?

He’s quiet as he studies you, head tilting to one side. You’ve never been on the receiving end of his scrutiny before—at least, not that you’re aware of, anyway. It’s slightly intimidating, mostly because of his stature, but also because his attention is solely directed on you in a way you haven’t experienced previously. 

Finally, he lets out a little huff and asks, “Are you avoiding me?” 

Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops open. You quickly snap it shut, a flush already making your ears go hot.

“No! Of course not! What gave you that impression?” Lies, lies, lies, but what are you supposed to say to a question like that? 

Andrew looks rightfully unconvinced. “I just…haven’t seen you around lately.” 

He noticed?

“Right, yeah, uh…” You flounder for a response, rubbing your clammy palms against your shorts. “I’ve just—I’ve been busy, y’know? With stuff. And things.” 

“Stuff and things,” Andrew repeats back slowly with a half-smile. 

You nod, smile tightly. “Mhm. Stuff and things. Matters, even! And, um…affairs. States of affairs.” 

“Of course.” He nods sagely. “It just seems like one of those very important matters that you’re tending to might be avoiding me.” 

“Oh,” you reply lamely. “It’s—I’m not—” You’re beginning to panic, trying to think of anything to get out of this conversation that doesn’t involve slamming the door in his face. 

“Because you haven’t gone out with us in weeks,” he continues as you stammer. “And you’re fairly quick to leave any room that I enter. Or, is that just a coincidence?” 

Annoyance buzzes beneath your skin.

“There have been stranger occurrences, I’m sure,” you reply evenly.

“Right. I’m sure.” He pulls a grimace of a smile, lips pressed together tightly as he knocks once on the doorframe before taking a step back. He almost looks dejected, though that’s probably just wishful thinking on your part. 

You’re ready to close the door on him, ready to curl back up under the blankets and try to sleep off your embarrassment. Just as he begins to turn away, Andrew stops and turns back to you with a curious half-smile. 

“Would you like to go down to the hotel bar with me, then?” 

You blink. “What?” 

He shrugs easily, assuredly. “Since you’re not avoiding me, come down and get a drink with me.”

Anxiety grips your heart as your stomach flutters. It’s a bad idea. A terrible one, even. Being alone with Andrew under the influence of alcohol? You can only imagine that being a one-way ticket to a massive disaster that ends with you getting kicked off the tour entirely. God knows what dumb shite will spill out of your mouth the moment you start to feel loose.

His smile turns coy as he tilts his head. “Or I could always bring something up for you. They’ve a lovely wine list here.” 

You swallow, searching his face as he raises a questioning eyebrow at you. 

Finally, you sigh and let your head rest against the doorframe. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” 

Andrew laughs, shakes his head. “No. Unless you tell me to fuck off, of course.”

You can’t help but smile and shake your own head. “I would never. Can you give me a few minutes, though? I can’t go down looking like this.” 

He waits outside like a gentleman, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. He smiles as you reappear in clothes more suitable for a public setting—merely a hoodie and a pair of jeans, but it’s good enough for a booth in the dimly lit, fairly empty hotel bar. 

You order a glass of blush wine, smirking when Andrew requests the bottle for the table instead. 

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” It’s light, airy, asked as a joke and nothing more. 

Andrew looks at you with a sly tilt of his head. “Trying to find reasons for you to stay a while.”

The answer stuns you, your face going pink as you avoid the waiter’s amused expression.

He orders a glass of Woodford Reserve, neat. When the waiter drops it off, he holds it out to you for a taste, and you hold out your wine glass in turn. The whiskey is bitter, spicy, and makes you cough into the crook of  your elbow as the amber liquid burns all the way down to your stomach. 

“Good lord,” you splutter as he grins at you. “That’ll put some hair on your chest.”

You study him as he sips from your wine glass, as he tilts his head in thought and nods to himself assuredly before commenting that it’s actually quite good despite blush wines not being his thing.

“So…” you start, hands folded on the table as you level his stare. 

“So…” he echoes as he rests his head in his hand, elbow planted firmly on the table. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

The question startles a laugh out of you. “Straight to it then, yeah?” 

He shrugs, takes another sip of his drink. “It’s not typically how I operate.” 

“Oh?” You tilt your head, an exaggeration of his own mannerisms. “And what makes me the lucky one to be graced with your focus and attention?”

Andrew chuckles. “I think you’re trying to dodge my question.” 

“And I think you’re trying to dodge mine.” You smirk before taking a sip from your glass. 

There’s a brief pause as he studies your face. “Honestly? I think my ego is a little bruised.” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he continues, “You can’t deny that you’re avoiding me, yeah? It’s been fairly obvious. And I…well, you've been on my mind, is all.” 

Once again, you’re stunned into silence. He’d been thinking of you? Apparently so, and often enough that he’s not only noticed the distance you’ve maintained from him, he’s actually hurt by it. The thought of hurting him at all makes your chest feel tight.

“It’s not personal,” you say weakly. 

“Feels personal,” he retorts. “Have I done something or said something to…I don’t know, make you not want to be around me?”

“No! No. Of course not.”

Andrew frowns. “I haven’t made you uncomfortable, have I? I try not to be too forward, but I suppose it’s the Pisces in me. Or something. Alex told me that once, I don’t know.” 

You blink. “You haven’t made me uncomfortable.” Not in the way he would expect, anyway.

His cheeks turn rosy as he runs a hand through his curls. He seems almost frustrated, as though your answers perplex him further. Andrew takes another sip from his drink, and you decide to follow suit, gulping down the last of your wine. Before you can even reach for it, Andrew takes the bottle and begins to pour a generous refill into your glass. 

You meet his eyes as he sets the bottle back down with a thud before bringing the glass up to your lips again. He watches you carefully, unable to maintain your stare as his eyes flit to your mouth, your throat, your fingers carefully curled around the stem. 

“Good. Grand.” He sighs. “If I haven’t made you…I mean, is there something else, then?” Your puzzled expression makes him frown. “Or, someone else, rather?”

The gears slowly begin to turn in your mind.

“Someone…else?” 

It must be your tone, the obvious confusion in your voice that clues him in, a look of understanding softening his features. Embarrassment quickly overtakes him as he covers his reddening face with a nervous laugh. 

“You—you’ve no idea what I’m—? Oh, Jesus…” He avoids your eyes as he slams back the remainder of his drink in one go, then sets the glass down with a wince and a grimace. “I think we may have a misunderstanding here.” 

Your own embarrassment has you speechless, mouth opening and closing as you process what he’s just said. Surely, he didn’t mean…? No, he couldn’t mean that, because things like that don’t just happen, at least not to you. Not when it’s Andrew of all people. 

It’s the wine that grips your throat and controls your voice, and you laugh incredulously as you ask, “Oh my god, do you have a crush on me?”

He groans into his hands, then smooths them back over his hair before collapsing onto the table with a laugh. His face is tinged pink with drunken embarrassment, and he smiles at you before turning to hide his face in his arms. 

“In no uncertain terms,” comes his muffled reply.

You laugh again and cover your own face, unsure of what to say. Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest, your pulse thumping as a familiar heat begins to pool in your stomach. 

After a moment, Andrew lifts his head again and pulls himself from the table until he’s upright once more. His eyes are tinged red now, bloodshot from booze. Your own head swims as you rest your head in your hand and smile at him warmly. 

“D’you want to know why I was avoiding you?” You avert your gaze to the table, then sigh before the words tumble from your mouth. “Because you’re too fucking attractive. How am I supposed to get anything done when you walk around looking like this?”

He splutters a laugh as you gesture vaguely towards him. “Oh?” 

The wine bottle is nearly empty now as you encourage him to pour some for himself in the empty glass on the table.

“It’s terribly inconsiderate of you,” you hum, and you catch his grin before he takes a drink.

Andrew grins. “My apologies for being such a distraction. I’d no idea I caused such distress.” 

You chuckle and eye him coyly. “I wouldn’t necessarily call it distress.”

“What would you call it, then?”

“Hmm…” You scrunch your face as you pretend to think. “Intrigue, certainly...and the uncanny ability to make me—” 

“Anything else for you?” The waiter’s voice startles you both, and you whip your head up to look at him wondering how much of that he heard. If he’s heard anything, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he mostly looks bored, and you can see the black booklet in his hand that surely contains the check. 

Andrew is quick to take it and scribbles in his room number for the charge, nearly shoving the booklet back into the waiter’s hands with hasty thanks. 

You’re both drunk enough to make bad decisions that you know you’ll regret come morning, but it’s difficult to care about that when he’s pressing you back against the wall in the elevator and kissing you like you’re his only source of air. When his hands are all over you like you’re the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“C’mon,” he murmurs as the doors open to let you onto his floor. 

You stumble over yourself with a whispered, “Shit!” as he pulls you over the threshold of his room, and he laughs and apologizes before flipping a light on. 

Andrew is a messy creature, and his room looks as though his overnight bag spontaneously exploded while he was out. It’s weirdly charming, another reminder that he is, in fact, just a regular fucking guy with standard quirks. 

A thrill runs through you when he kisses you again, softer this time as he cradles your face in his hands. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” The question is sudden, his eyes wide as he searches for any hint of doubt. 

You’re quiet for a moment as you turn the question over in your mind. Even in an inebriated state, he’s still so concerned about your comfort, your consent. It’s unsurprising given how anxious he seems in general, but it’s sweet all the same. 

Finally, you rest a hand on his arm and look up at him with a smirk. “What I was saying earlier, about you and intrigue…well, you have a knack for making me weak in the knees, amongst other things. It’s typically based on your proximity, though.” 

You see his mouth turn up in a half-smile just before he crowds closer to you, pulling you flush against him as you wrap your arms around his neck and laugh into another kiss. 

“I don’t normally do this,” he breathes just before moving to kiss along your neck. 

“I feel like I should be the one saying that.” You gasp when he bites down, not hard enough to cause any truly lasting damage, but enough to know that you’ll still be wearing his marks come morning. A thrilling thought, though you’re sure you’ll be mobbed by the ladies and Larissa for details later on. 

Your hoodie is in the way, impeding his access, and he steps away to tug at the hem until you’re helping him peel it off. He stares at your chest, clearly surprised by your lack of bra and the way your nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric of your tank top. 

“In my defense,” you say with a smirk, “I didn’t expect all of this to happen.”

He laughs quietly as he walks you back towards the bed. “You’ll hear no complaints from me.” 

The sheets are rumpled and easily kicked away as you shuffle back on the mattress. Andrew drops kisses along chest, teeth grazing your skin and leaving little imprints. You squeak when he shoves your shirt up roughly, and he throws an apologetic look your way. 

“Sorry, just a bit enthusiastic,” he muses. 

You laugh, feeling breathless as his hands wander along your newly bared skin. 

“You’ll hear no complaints from me.” 

His responding laugh— a low, warm sound, sweet as honey—makes you blush. You gasp when he gently bites your nipple just before taking it into his mouth. It sends a shiver through you as he moves to the other, and you squirm beneath him, almost glad that you’re too drunk to really be embarrassed at the moment. 

Once your jeans are off and tossed away, Andrew freezes, his eyes greedily taking in your nearly nude body before snapping back up to meet your stare. He dips a hand beneath the waistband of your panties—a simple black pair without any details or flair, because you didn’t expect to have Andrew’s hand shoved into them like this.

He seems surprised to find you an already slick mess, his fingers dipping easily into you before pulling them back to rub your clit in slow circles. 

“I told you,” you huff a harsh laugh that breaks into a small moan. “Weak in the knees, amongst other things.” 

Andrew’s grin is obscured by his hair that curtains his face. He continues to touch you slowly, methodically, while capturing you in a kiss and swallowing down every little sound that escapes you. 

He breaks the kiss with a small gasp and asks, “What do you—how do you want to—?”

You’re far too impatient for anything that isn’t his cock inside of you right fucking now. You’re aching, feeling empty in a way that you have so many times over the past few weeks. Except this time, the object of your affections is stumbling over himself to rummage through his bag after you ask about protection. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you muse as he approaches you again with something square in hand. 

“So are you,” he shoots back, and he watches in awe as you slip your underwear off and cast them aside without batting an eye, emboldened.

He licks his lips before saying weakly, “Oh, you’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

Andrew is far too impatient to remove everything, barely able to focus on even shoving his own jeans down and hastily rolling on a condom with shaky hands. 

The feeling as he presses into you is heavenly, so full, warm, and satisfying. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder as he sets an even pace. The slick sound of your arousal makes you blush, but it’s obvious how much it spurs him on, delighting in your body’s reaction to him, his touch, his everything.

Weeks of wishing and wanting, and now you can’t hold back your moans as he fucks you the way you’ve imagined. You can feel the way he stretches you as he fills you, and he gasps when you clench around him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes screwing shut as he takes a deep breath. 

You reach up and brush a stray curl from his face. “Are you okay?”

When he opens his eyes, he gives you a little smile and a nod. “Yeah, yes, grand,” he huffs, then lets his head fall forward until his forehead rests against your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good.” 

He grips your thigh and squeezes gently, a silent bid to get your legs around him. 

At first, he’s slow, taking his time as he kisses you between breathy laughs and whispered swears. It isn’t until you murmur, “You don’t have to treat me so preciously,” in his ear that he hums and shifts to press your legs further, damn near folding you in half. But it’s good, so fucking good, and you can barely form a thought as your eyes roll back and flutter as he picks up his pace.

And, Jesus, how are you already so close to your peak? Another testament to your seemingly insatiable desire. You cry out when he rubs a thumb against your clit roughly, out of sync with his thrusts as you press back and grind against his palm.

The stimulation is enough to send you tumbling over the edge. Tears blur your vision as you let out small, sobbing moans against his neck. Each wave of pleasure has you clenching down around him.  and then he’s snapping his hips one, two, three more times before groaning in your ear while his cock twitches with his release.

Andrew is quick to collect you into his arms after collapsing next to you in bed. He reaches blindly for a blanket to tug over both of you, seemingly more of a courtesy than anything. You allow yourself to relax into him, nuzzling his shoulder before settling with your head on his chest. 

“Wow,” he says after his breathing has evened, and he laughs quietly as he squeezes you. 

“Yeah,” you hum.

There’s another stretch of silence, and your eyes begin to feel heavy as you follow the pattern of his breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest. 

Another small laugh from him stirs you, and you look up at him questioningly. 

“We’re going to feel fucking awful tomorrow, aren’t we?” 

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is a hungover breakfast a proper first date, d’you think?” 

You grin at him and lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Proper? No. But we haven’t done things by the book so far.”

[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’

Chapter 26: ‘Well, how else are you to live except by denial’

Chapter 27: ‘They loved music and swam in for a singer, who might stand at the end of summer’

Chapter 28: ‘You are neither here nor there, a hurry through which known and strange things pass as big soft buffetings come at the car sideways and catch the heart off guard and blow it open’

Chapter 29: ‘My lover’s words were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses on these lips’

Chapter 30: ‘You liked me well enough in black; I make you a gift of these objects’

Chapter 31 : ‘Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief’

Chapter 32 : ‘How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then’

Chapter 33 : ‘The scent already in the air’

Chapter 34 : ‘One morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. And so I must still have hope.’

Chapter 35 : ‘Love comes quietly, finally’

Chapter 36: ‘So I imagine such love of the world—its fervency, its shining, its innocence and hunger to give of itself—I imagine this is how it began’

Chapter 37 : ‘I found the other half above the pillow where you lay’

Chapter 38: ‘They are elsewhere beyond the night way higher than day in the blinding brightness of their first love’

Chapter 39: ‘He grew so tender and I so grateful which maybe tells you something about how it was’

Chapter 40 : ‘Where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.’

Chapter 41 : ‘Just one candle burning on, shadows lurking everywhere: some one came, and kissed me there’

Chapter 42: ‘Love in such a way, as I… love… you.’

Chapter 43: ‘The whole world depends on your pure eyes and all my blood flows into their gaze’

Chapter 44 : ‘I go up to the stone wall for a friendly visit.’

Chapter 45 : ‘Nobody, but nobody can make it out here alone.’

Chapter 46 : ‘Both of us, of the love which makes us one.’

Chapter 47: ‘To whom I owe the leaping delight that quickens my senses in our wakingtime and the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime’

Chapter 48 : ‘It’s love almost too fierce to endure, the bee nuzzling like that into the blouse of the rose’

[fvckingwolfstar]

3 am

pairing: hozier x sleepy! reader

summary: blurb!! late night fingering after a long day

genre: smut 18+

word count: 453

cw: he’s so in love w you, sleepy vaginal fingering

author’s note: go read my saltburn fanfiction pleaseeeeeee. its pinned🫶🫶🫶

masterlist

smut under the cut

It was 3 am on a Saturday morning, Friday night. Whatever you call it. And Andrew was enraptured by you. He’d been enraptured by you for months now, having been dating you for nearly nine. Friday night, he took you dancing, then to dinner. Something you’d been talking about for weeks, and he wanted nothing more than to see you smile. Or to see your hair fly behind you as you twirled, or your dress to spin with you. The force of you pulled him in.

When you got home, you blew him and rode him as a job well done. It was perfect, as it always is with you. You had fallen asleep in eachother’s arms, but now he’s awake again. That wasn’t too bad though, he got to stroke your hair while you rested.

Your heavy eyes begin to flutter, a grumble of “what time is it?” falling from between your lips.

Andrew kisses your forehead lightly, “3:30?” he guesses.

You groan, exhausted, pushing yourself closer to him. You lean up and kiss him softly, humming as you both refuse to pull away. Andrew wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer. You gasp as you feel him pressed against you.

He pushes his hand down your side and hovers over the elastic of your underwear, “Mnmf, please?” you mumble quietly against him. He pushes his hand into your panties slowly and rubs circle around your clit, you melting like putty in his hands.

He pushed his middle finger inside of you, his palm pressed against your clit. Your quiet whines turning into louder moans as he touched you. You bring your hand down to his boxers, “Lemme…” you trail off.

“It’s okay,” Andrew hums, steering your hand from his boxers to his waist. He pushes his ring finger inside of you aswell, causing you to fold into him, letting out labored breaths.

He rubs your g-spot with his fingers and your clit with your palm, sending you into overdrive. Your face scrunches up as he works you with one hand, shushing and comforting you as he does. With a few more rubs, you cum on his hands.

You look up at him with sleepy eyes, blinking slowly. He pulls his hand out of your damp underwear and goes to lick his fingers. Before he does, you take his wrist and suck his middle finger into your mouth, fluttering your eyelashes languidly. You pull his finger out with a quiet, yet obscene pop! and relax into his arms again.

His hand returns to your hair and he strokes your hair until you fall asleep in his arms again. His eyes finally flutter closed as he succumbs to sleep.

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.

[sunlight-fics]

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

[beat-the-morning]

Daddy’s girl || Hozier x reader

Kinktober - Day 1: Daddy kink

prompt list

Tags: daddy kink, oral sex (fem receiving), edging (fem receiving), dom/sub undertones, body worship, couch sex

Summary: Reader has a fantasy and is too embarrassed to tell, so Andrew finds a way to get it out of them.

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: I’m finally back and I come bearing gifts, I’m trying to do all the prompts in the list but we’ll see where that ends lmao. Also, I can’t believe no one’s done Kinktober fics with Hozier before, this is outrageous.

|| 💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙 ||

You and Andrew had been dating for a few months now, it was a great relationship all things considered, he was caring and attentive, but he obviously had his moments sometimes, you always tried to be the best girlfriend possible for him, and he tried to be the best boyfriend for you. It was a very healthy relationship, the healthiest you’d had - although that wasn’t much of a high bar -, you both talked about pretty much everything with each other, sex being a big topic since, as you discovered once you started dating, both Andrew and yourself have pretty high libidos. In just these past months you had discovered many things about each other, Andrew discovered your inclination for being more submissive, the way your eyes would light up whenever he took control was something that drove him wild. Meanwhile, you had noticed Andrew’s preference for dominance, how he’d just take control every time and then take care of you once it was over, all this, however, had brought you to find out something about yourself that you didn’t even know you wanted, to call him daddy, you craved that dynamic and the role of being his girl, both in and outside the bedroom.

You had been dropping hints, if you could even call them that, of wanting him to be more protective and almost fatherly with you, but you’d never admit the latter out loud to him, no matter how much you wanted it you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Even though he seemingly had been picking up the hints and had started being more protective and taking care of you more, you still refused to tell him what you really wanted, something he’d obviously noticed.

As you sat on the couch in his living room after a shower, already in your pyjama shorts and one of his shirts, ready to spend the night at his house like you’d been doing practically every weekend for the past month and a half, your mind got clouded with fantasies once more, you could feel yourself getting wet already just from the images in your mind, and then your fantasies started getting deeper, the image of Andrew fucking you while you called him daddy started to become clearer and clearer, you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together, wishing for some friction while, unbeknownst to you, Andrew entered the room. He looked you up and down, his green eyes taking in your figure while he stood just out of your sight, your legs rubbing together, your breathing hitching every so often, your eyes glazed over while your mind was somewhere else, and the way you were biting the tip of your thumb, all while you were sitting on the corner of the sofa, almost curled up in a ball while his shirt made you look smaller than you were. To say he was entranced was putting it mildly, he quietly approached you, sitting next to you on the couch in a way that his left arm was on the backrest and his torso was facing you, his weight shifting the cushion and bringing you back to reality.

“Something on your mind, baby?” He asked once your gaze turned to him.

“No,” you lied.

He tilted his head to the side, his left arm moving to caress your cheek. “You’ve been a bit off lately, do you need to talk about something?”

You shook your head lightly, not wanting to outright lie to him again but still unable to tell him what had been on your mind for weeks now. Andrew frowned for a fraction of a second before he caught himself, his expression now firm. “Are you really going to make me have to guess what this is about?” He asked, his right hand moving to your hip.

“It’s nothing bad, just some thoughts I’ve been having,” you said softly, not knowing if you wanted him to drop the subject or dig deeper into it.

“What kind of thoughts?” His expression turned slightly worried as he spoke, “you know you can talk to me about everything, love.”

“They’re… uhm… sexual thoughts.” You admitted, Andrew smiled, breathing a sigh of relief at your words.

“You want to try something new?” He asked with a smirk.

“Kinda… I don’t want to say it out loud…”

“What if I get it out of you?” He leaned closer, his breath ghosting over your lips as his hand started drawing shapes on your hip.

“How?” You asked.

“You just lay back and let me do my thing, you’ll say something eventually.” He started peppering kisses on your neck. “Would you like that, baby?”

You were unsure of what to answer, you didn’t know if you wanted to admit to your fantasy yet, but you were also extremely horny right now, so you agreed. Andrew’s hands moved to the hem of your shirt as his lips kissed along your neck and towards your lips. He kissed you deeply, your hands instinctively moving to tangle in his hair pulling him even closer. Slowly, he grabbed your shirt and pulled it off you, throwing it somewhere on the floor before going back to kissing you, his tongue pressing against your lips, asking for entry. You parted your lips ever so slightly, his tongue darting in and exploring your mouth as he pleased, his hands explored your body, one of them playing with your nipple while the other moved to pull off your shorts. You moved one of your hands to help him, taking off your shorts and underwear in one quick motion.

Andrew pulled back for a second, his eyes roaming your figure, taking in every curve to memory like this would be his last time with you. He moved his hands to your legs, pulling at them so you’d be laying down on the couch instead of sitting. He took off his shirt, letting you reach out and touch his bare chest and abdomen, you squeezed his man boobs and the slight bit of chub he had on his tummy with a smile, he chuckled. “You’re always doing that, I don’t get it.” He said as he leaned in to start kissing your neck again.

“You like my tits, can I not like yours?” You teased, moaning softly as his beard scratched your throat.

“‘S’not the same,” he retorted before leaving a small hickey right under your ear, making you whine in pleasure.

He left a trail of kisses from your neck to your mound, stopping for a while on your breasts to tease and suck at your nipples before finishing his journey. He parted your legs, smirking at the sight of your glistening core. “Someone’s excited,” he teased, “are you going to tell me what the new thing you want to try is?”

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. “You’re not finishing until you do, princess.” He stated, and before you could even ask what he meant by that his head dove between your thighs and he started eating you out like it was his last meal. He sucked on your clit while his fingers teased your entrance, your soft moaning was the only sound that mattered to him in that moment. He plunged his finger inside you, pumping a few times before inserting another one, his tongue pressing against your clit as he hummed softly, making it vibrate just enough that your moaning started becoming louder and louder. His fingers moved at a relentless pace, bringing you closer to the edge every time they bottomed out. You were trembling from his touch, the pleasure was overwhelming you in the most perfect way, and just when on the verge of release, Andrew pulled away, leaving you empty and needy, you whined, calling out his name in a needy voice while pouting, but he didn’t do anything other than kissing your thigh every so often

After your body calmed down, Andrew dove right back in, this time his mouth was on your entrance, his tongue going in and out of you as he moved his head just right so his nose was brushing against your clit. Slowly, your moans picked up again, now taking a more whiny tone since you were slightly more sensitive than before, the way his nose pressed against you while he moaned from your taste was driving you wild, you could feel your orgasm approaching once more, your hands went to tangle in his hair once more, pushing his head slightly into your pussy. But it was in vain, since he pulled away again the moment he could feel you on the edge of ecstasy. You whined again, but louder this time. “Andyyy…” you cried out. “Please let me cum.” You begged in another whine.

“We’ll see,” he smiled mischievously.

He repeated this same thing over and over again, bringing you to the brink of climax before taking it away and starting again once your body had calmed down. Over the course of what felt like an eternity, but was probably closer to an hour and a half, he brought you to the edge around six or seven times, perhaps more, but you had lost count after the fourth, your mind clouded and your eyes full of tears from frustration. You had begged Andrew over and over again to just let you orgasm, him doing this so you would tell him what it was you wanted to try was a distant memory now, your brain was a mess, your body was on fire and the only thing in your mind was the need to finish.

He dove back in again, and the feeling of his mouth on you made something snap in your mind, you started begging again for release. “Please… please just let me cum… please daddy.”

Andrew stopped his ministrations the second the word “daddy” left your lips, he lifted his head from between your thighs while you repeatedly cursed yourself in your head, you closed your eyes, you couldn’t even dare to look at him. “Baby,” he said, an audible smile in his voice. “What’d you just say?”

“N-nothing,” you stuttered.

“Look at me.” He ordered, and you obeyed, your eyes opening and looking into his. “Say that last word again.”

“Daddy…” you repeated yourself, his eyes looking right into your soul, you’d never felt so exposed before now. Your desire for the earth to swallow you so strong that you didn’t even notice the way he smiled or how his eyes were dark with lust.

“Is that what you wanted to try out, baby?” He crawled on top of you, already knowing the answer. “You want me to be your daddy?”

You nodded, Andrew practically moaned in response, his lips clashing against yours. He deepened the kiss as you returned it, his hand moved back to your core and he inserted two fingers inside you while his thumb played with your clit. You started whining again, but you didn’t speak this time. “Cum for me, baby,” he cooed softly, “cum for daddy.”

Pleasure quickly overwhelmed you, his words made ecstasy run through your veins as he fingered you. You came in less than two minutes, covering his fingers with your juices. “Good girl,” he said softly, kissing your forehead while you were still riding out your orgasm on his fingers.

“You… like being called daddy?” You asked, slightly out of breath.

“I fucking love it,” he answered in a loud whisper, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to your mouth. “Clean them up, baby, be a good girl for daddy.”

You did as told, taking his fingers into your mouth and sucking them clean, Andrew looked at you intently, taking deep breaths to stop himself from pouncing on you just yet.

“And do you want me to be your daddy all the time, or only when we’re having sex?” He asked, pulling his fingers out of your mouth with a pop! sound.

“All the time,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heating up as you finished speaking.

“Does that mean you’ll be daddy’s little girl?” Andrew questioned while his hand cupped your face, caressing it softly. You nodded, he smiled. “Good girl.”

He reached down to unbuckle his belt, “do you want daddy’s cock, baby? D’you want daddy to fill you up?” He asked, and you nodded again, making him shake his head and chuckle. “Use your words, princess, beg for it a little bit.”

“Please daddy, please fuck me…” you begged, looking up at him with sad puppy eyes.

“Much better,” he smiled, taking off his pants and boxers in one gesture, his cock springing free, his tip flushed and glistening from the precum. “Open your legs, baby, let daddy see you properly.”

You opened your legs more, Andrew smiled, he leaned closer, rubbing his cock against your entrance to lube it up slightly before slowly pushing in, inciting quiet gasps and moans from the both of you. He bottomed out, “Fuck.” you moaned softly, throwing your head back onto the sofa cushions.

“That’s it, baby, such a pretty little thing.” He cooed, his hands holding tightly onto your hips. He slowly started moving his hips, helping you get used to the stretch. He kept a slow consistent pace, low moans escaping him every so often. You whined, asking Andrew to go faster, but he didn’t. “Ask properly, baby.”

“Faster, daddy, please.” You begged softly, and Andrew obliged, his pace quickening to an unholy speed, the sound of skin against skin louder than ever. Your mind was completely clouded, you could barely form a sentence as his cock slammed into you over and over in the most perfect way. His hands explored your body with wild abandon, travelling from your hips to your breasts, teasing and pinching at your nipples, eliciting loud and obscene moans from deep within you. He leaned down, kissing your neck and collarbone again with a reverence and softness that starkly contrasted the hedonistic way in which he fucked you.

You moaned loudly as his grip on you tightened, your own hands reaching out to pull him closer, capturing his lips in a fiery kiss, he moaned into your mouth, his cock twitching inside you ever so slightly. One of his hands moved from your hips, leaving a faint mark on your skin that would only become more noticeable as the night progressed, his fingers found your clit, the feeling made you hiss with pleasure. His movements became slightly erratic, his thrusts turning less consistent and stronger as he lost himself in you. You buckled your hips up to meet his as pure lust ran through your veins, his fingers on your clit moving faster with each passing second.

“D-daddy, please, I’m gonna…” you moaned, begging for his permission to cum, Andrew smiled, leaning to speak in your ear.

“Gonna cum, baby? ‘S that it?” He teased, his fingers moving faster on your clit as he fucked you. “Come for daddy, baby. Be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock.” He whispered in your ear.

That was all you needed to come undone, your orgasm washing over you with a blinding pleasure that made you see pure white for a few seconds, your body tensing up as you screamed in bliss. Your pussy tightened around Andrew’s cock, his own resolve crumbling as he released himself inside you, he kept slowly fucking you through both of your orgasms until the threat of overstimulation was present in your whines and his moans. He stilled himself inside you, buried to the hilt in your warmth, not wanting to move just yet.

You were breathing heavily, your mind slowly coming back from wherever it had wondered off to while Andrew fucked every thought out of you. He was kissing your neck again as his own way of coming back to reality, “‘m gonna pull out now, gonna need you to keep my cum inside you until I can clean you up so my couch doesn’t get completely ruined.” He said between kisses, “think you can do that for me, baby?” You nodded, then, slowly, he pulled his softening member from you, trying not to make a mess on the couch.

He put himself back in his boxers, leaving for the bathroom and coming back with a damp washcloth a few moments later. He cleaned you up as best he could, retrieving your panties from the floor and putting them back on you. Once you were clean, he picked you up and laid down on the couch with you on top of him, your head laying on his chest, his left hand held you tightly by the waist while his right played with your hair

“I would’ve started calling you daddy sooner if I’d known that you’d react like this,” you teased lightly, nuzzling your head in his chest.

“We’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he teased back, his hand moving lower to squeeze your ass.

[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)