Style, Or Lack There Of

Style, or lack there of

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Warning: it’s really short

Summary: Where did Hozier suddenly get all his style from? He comes out of his 4 year hiding for ‘Unreal Unearth’, all the flannel have been replaced with shirts and all his jeans have been replaced with nice trousers. Why? Because he got a girlfriend, who doesn’t let him walk out the house looking like a butch lesbian even though that look was a slay

“Seriously, I can back my own bags for tour, I’m not 5…”

He grumbles as he sits on the bed he shares with his beloved, watching as she neatly and tightly folds clothes for his suitcases. Arguably, he definitely could have done it by himself, but he knows better than to disagree, y/n said she would do it. End of.

He watches as she puts an all black suit in case, and he gets ready to argue, but she talks first.

“Just, stop. I’m not letting you, in right mind, walk around wearing a blazer and a random graphic t-shirt. You’ve got nice clothes, and you’re gonna wear them. You’re doing more fan things this tour, don’t you want to look presentable for your fans.”

She’s right. God, she’s right. He thinks to himself. He loves her to bits, but sometimes she cares too much, he’s never given two shits what people think about how he looks. Usually, he just packs two formal outfits and moves on, but every thing she’s packing is nice, except for his jumpsuit, which she loves to see him in so it gets the pass to get into the suitcase.

“y/n…. Why are you so obsessed with me dressing nicely?”

“Trust me, Bear, just trust me judgment.”

Great, now he can’t argue because she called him ‘bear’, this is a loosing battle for him, so he just gives in, move to do something else. Deciding to trust her judgement.

Despite his reluctance, his new wardrobe was a hit in his fans, they love his new style how he dress so well. All because of his girlfriend being stubborn and always right.

So when he gets home for his first little visit of the tour, he’s sat on the couch, you cuddled into his side as he plays with the hair on your nape.

“Ya know… that little wardrobe you insisted I should have….. apparently the fans were really loving it…”

His voice is low, his lips pushed into your hair so he’s made to mumble. You can’t help but laugh, because you were right, so you have to say it,

“I told ya so.”

“Yeah… ya told me, honey…”

He mumbles into your hair, smiling at the warm silence of your shared home. A silence that is only made better by each other’s presence.

[x]

Robert Sheehan & David Tennant | Bad Samaritan BTS

Almost (sweet music)

Part: 3/? Rating: Explicit, 18+

Warnings: Hozier x fem!reader, smut, oral fem!receiving, face sitting, PIV sex, no explicit mention of a condom, slightly subby but not completely subby Andrew, yearning, begging, make-up sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, ✨eye contact✨,general filth, smut with plot, smut under the cut, fluff, after care

The way Andrew was looking up at you was intoxicating. The look in his eyes was nothing sort of pleading and the way he looked kneeling before you was similar to how one would kneel before an altar to a Devine goddess.

The way he admired you was nothing short of utter worship, like he was in awe of your very presence.

His hands were tight around your waist, wandering a little bit, but staying firmly in a place that you could only describe as utterly respectful, like he was scared to go to far in fear that you would disappear.

He continued kissing the band of exposed skin between your waistband and the hem of your shirt, his eyes never leaving yours for a second. He was wordlessly pleading for your approval in taking this farther.

“Use your words.” It slips out before you can even fully form the thought or process what you’ve just said. Judging by the subtle excitement that touched his gaze though, he approved.

It was an interesting thought, you had never seen the side of him that even slightly hinted to him being into relinquishing control like this. Usually the begging was a job reserved almost exclusively for you. You were unsure of how exactly this would play out.

“Please may I touch you?” His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you a bit closer to him, his kisses lingering a bit longer against your mid drift. “Please.” The look in his eyes made you think he might cry if you said no.

You move one of your hands to the bottom of his chin, picking his head up and leading him back up to his feet in front of you. He towered over you, looking down, his eyes searching for any sign that you were still upset with him or that he was going too far. “You may.” You stand up on your toes to place soft kisses across his jaw line. The satisfied, happy sigh that leaves him pulls at your heart and gives you the confidence to keep going. “Don’t you think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself though?”

You chuckle against his neck, the breath wafting across his skin makes him tense a little bit, a shiver running down his spine.

You pull away to look up at him expectantly, refusing to make the first move even as your hands make their way to his shirt, gripping it tightly, keeping him impossibly close to you. He leans down, clearly intending to press his lips to yours, but is met with your hand between the two of you, stopping him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. We ask first.”

“Can I kiss you?” One of his hand makes it’s way too your face and he runs his thumb back and fourth over your cheek. “Please, darling, I’ve missed the feeling of your lips terribly.” His other hand comes to your face as well, holding you in a way that feels so comforting. He’s still pleading with his eyes, they’re so intense looking into yours. His eyebrows are furrowed in desperation and lips are slightly opened, his eyes frantically searching your face, darting back and fourth between your eye a your lips.

In lieu of a verbal response, you nod and pull him closer to you, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He wastes no time pressing his lips to yours, the kiss is soft, full of love, but not lacking urgency. He always kissed you as if he was suffocating and you were his boy source of oxygen left on earth, not only wanting you, but needing you.

Without parting from him, you gently usher him back toward the bed, and only once the back of his knees hit the mattress do you separate your lips from his, gently pushing him down onto the bed.

His smile while looking up at you showed nothing but pure adoration. “You are Devine my love, may I?” His hands were at the hem of your shirt, pulling desperately at the fabric. “I’d like to worship you properly if is all the same to you.”

“Yes, darling, go ahead” you silently thanked yourself for not wearing a bra to bed as he lifted the clothing over your head, revealing your upper half to him. As he looks over your body, he’s grinning like a little kid in a candy store, his mouth practically watering, thinking of all the ways he’d like to devour every inch of you. And you’d like him to. If it were up to you, not a single inch of your body would be untouched by his hands, his mouth, him.

His lips are back on you, exploring your torso, gently nipping at the skin on your stomach, making his way up to the valley between your breasts. Your hands move to tangle into his hair, pulling gently, just enough to elicit a small, sweet sound of satisfaction from between his lips.

His head moves slightly to attend to your left nipple while his hand makes its way over your right.

The feeling of his hands and mouth on you was nothing short blissful. You had always been fully aware of just how generous of a lover Andrew was, always getting pleasure from giving you yours, but this moment took the cake.

You weren’t sure if it was the months apart, waiting for his return, yearning to be in his presence, longing just to be near him, but in this moment, his touch had never felt so good. He was intoxicating, like a drug made specifically with you in mind, sent from whatever gods that were out there with the sole purpose of ruining you.

Before you knew it you were straddling him, his mouth moving on to focus on your neck, your jawline, behind your ears, coaxing sounds from you which, if you were in your right mind, would embarrass you terribly.

He lifts his head to meet his lips to yours again, this time a bit rougher, hungrier. “Please,” another kiss. “Can I,” and another. “I need to taste you.”

He pulls you with him as he lays himself down, your position above him moving farther up, close to his chest now, with his hands on your hips urging you higher.

The thought crosses through your mind that as enjoyable as this idea seems, you may kill him if you try it. “Andrew, I really don’t want you suffocating between my thighs.” You laugh and place a kiss on his forehead. “As tempting as that sounds, I’ve grown rather fond of you.”

“Well in the event that such a thing happens, you can tell everyone that I died doing what I love.” He lets out a breathy laugh, continuing his attempts at pulling you forward. “You know I love nothing more than to please you, wont you please let me do what I love?”

Your hands meet his at your waist to assist in removing the final layers of clothing between the two of you. “Okay, but tap my thighs twice if I kill you alright?” You mutter quietly as you let him guide you until you’re hovering over his face.

He begins his worship at your inner thighs, kissing and nipping and sucking at the soft skin, moving back and fourth between the two of them so as not to give unfair attention or show favoritism between the two.

His breath is hot against your skin, awakening every nerve ending in your body, you swear you could feel his touch through every fiber of your being from the tips of your toes to the ends of the hair on your head. Every touch drew you closer into him, from the work his lips were doing on your thighs to his bruisingly tight grip holding you there.

He lets out a very frustrated sigh. “Darling, please, Im not made of glass.” And you’re suddenly being pulled down onto his face.

The sensation, while familiar is strange (though not unwelcome) considering the change in orientation. His tongue dancing, exploring every crevice of you drove you up the wall. “Fuck, Andrew.”

He made a point out of teasing you every time. He stubbornly refused to give you what he knew you wanted right away, claiming the anticipation is what made everything all that much better when he makes you cum. You couldn’t argue of course, he was right, but it never made it any less frustrating when he teased you the way he did.

Absentmindedly, you begin the rock your hips back and forth over top of him, trying to move yourself to a position to get what you wanted. You weren’t quite expecting the deep groan, guttural, sound that bordered on a feral growl that that came from him as a response to your actions.

The vibrations it sent through your core elicited a similar sound from you, and then a string of moans and curses which you weren’t sure were completely coherent when his tongue moved to where you so desperately wanted his attention.

Your body moved on its own accord. Your hips snapping forward against his face repeatedly, your legs were shaking in a manner that you could only describe as violent.

The waves of pleasure running through you becoming more and more intense with every satisfied hum and groan from him, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

His name was falling off your lips repeatedly alongside every curse your barely functioning brain could think of.

You were positive that he had never been this enthusiastic about giving before, which was saying something, because there truly was nothing he got more excited about than going down on you, but even then he had never gotten this into it.

Before you knew it you were coming undone, squirming desperately against him as he held you there and continued his wicked pursuit of your pleasure, lapping up every ounce of your orgasm that now covered your thighs.

He wasn’t giving you any sort of break to recover, keeping his attention solely focused on the bundle of nerves between your thighs, which was growing increasingly sensitive by the second.

Your vision was blurry and your legs were numb, barely able to hold up your weight. “Andrew, I-” your voice sounded far away, as if it didn’t even belong to you as you reached your second orgasm, less than a minute after your first, and yet he still kept going. “Fuck, too sensitive, Jesus!” You desperately pushed yourself away from him, fighting against his grip on the back of your thighs.

You feel him smirk against you as he releases you to climb off of him. Your head hits the pillow behind you and you let out another breathy moan, riding out the rest of your orgasm with Andrew sitting between your thighs which are still spread open, watching you still shaking and moaning, even twitching occasionally. “You’re so beautiful.” He’s staring in awe at you, baffled by the sight before him. “Can I please keep going? Just one more?” He smiles down at you, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs.

You nod wordlessly. You’re positive that if you tried to speak you’d be completely incoherent. He chuckles quietly. He absolutely loved seeing you this way, your mind completely blank, entirely fucked out and still wanting more of him. You were utterly obsessed with each other, and in this moment nothing could take away from that.

He waits patiently for you to come down, not wanting to completely overwhelm you (that could wait). While he’s waiting, he takes the time to remove his own clothes, which in all the excitement had surprisingly been left completely untouched.

Once you give the okay, he’s back to work between your thighs, this time using not only his mouth but also his fingers.

By this point you were spent. You couldn’t think clearly, you doubted your ability to speak even, you were convinced that this was the most high you had ever been off of him, or anything for that matter.

The feeling of him between your legs was the only thing you could imagine ever thinking about again in that moment. He knew every inch of you like the back of his hand, it was as if he had known you all his life, like you were the only lover he had ever known or would ever know. The only word you would ever be able to describe him with was ecstasy.

The world outside of this room didn’t exist in that moment it was like the stars the moon and all of the planets orbited around the two of you.

You continued letting out moan after broken moan, bordering on screams as his fingers curled inside of you, working together with his tongue to make you cum in record time, it had gotten to the point where the line between pleasure and pain was almost completely blurred and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

When he removed his head from between your thighs, you found yourself aching for him to come back. The wicked smile across his lips told you that of course he would, and surely enough, before you knew it his lips were back on yours.

You could taste yourself on his lips, slightly salty, but the taste doesn’t completely cover the sweetness in his usual taste.

When he pulls away his eyes are almost entirely dilated and his breathing if heavy. “My god, please let me fuck you, I need you so bad.” His tone is pleading, almost a whimper. You nod quickly, hands moving to his face in an attempt to pull him back to you, desperate for any contact you can get. “I need you so say it. Tell me that I can make love to you. Please.”

“Yes, Andrew, fuck-” you pull his face down to yours and kiss him hard, theres passion and hunger behind it. “I have been waiting for months, missing you for months, please.”

You both moan in unison as he presses into you. You cant help but look into his eyes as he does so, the way he looked at you, marveled at you, worshipped you made you wish this moment would never end. The way your bodies entwine is utterly enchanting, it’s enough to make you forget where your body ends and his begins.

Before Andrew you had never really seen sex as something as intimate as it was with him. Of course exposing yourself to someone and having that vulnerability with another human was always intimate, but never before him did you feel like it was something that inextricably intertwined two people, body, mind and soul.

Sex with Andrew felt akin to pouring your heart out to him and laying the deepest, darkest, most shameful parts of yourself out in front of him without fear of judgement because he would always accept you as you were. Only with him did you finally understand the term “make love”. He loved you unconditionally and you loved him with equal devotion.

You could feel yourself coming to yet another orgasm at the same time that his thrusts started to become sloppy, more rushed, and ever so eager to reach his own high.

It was crazy to you, the way your bodies were always in sync like that. You knew all too well how much of a rarity it was for two people to finish together in most relationships (truth be told, in your experience, it was a rarity to finish at all with anyone else) but it had never once been an issue for the two of you and tonight was no exception.

As that familiar wave of ecstasy washed over both of you, your bodies tensing and then relaxing all in complete synchronization. You swore it was like magic.

You let out a small moan as he pulls away from you, lying down next to you and pulling you into his chest. His scent was so familiar, he smelled like home, like your future, like the two of you sitting on the porch of your home together, old and gray, watching your grandchildren play in the front yard. The thought honestly made you want to cry given the circumstances, but you found yourself just being happy enough to be with him for now. The talk about where the two of you stand could wait until the morning.

“So am I forgiven or am I gonna have to ravish you again in the morning?” He chuckles into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re forgiven, but Im open to the idea.” You look up at him, smiling. His gaze was so soft, full of adoration and wonder.

“Great, because I was planning on it either way.” His smile widens and the two of you laugh. You missed this.

Being in his presence was a comfort that you would never take for granted ever again. He instantly put you at ease, made you feel relaxed like you had never felt otherwise.

You found yourself drifting off to sleep, barely still conscious enough to hear him mutter “I love you” as your sleep overcame you.

I got carried away so its a bit long, hope this was as fun to read as it was to write, I’ll hopefully update again tomorrow maybe, but I make no promises

Move me, Baby

Rating: Mature, 18+, MDNI (Please, I really really don't want to have to block you, I write fluff too, go look at that.)

Pairing: Andrew Hozier X fem!Reader (not proofread)

Warnings: No use of Y/n because I personally find it unbearable to read, soft dom Andrew, thigh riding, body worship, nipple play (Female receiving) begging if you squint, scent kink also if you squint, Andrew being the sweetest little sweetie pie, heavy on the praise kink, heavy on the teasing, encouragement,I tried really hard to write a plotless smut but it turned into passionate love making, Your honor they’re in love!

Summary:It’s a lazy afternoon, and you’re watching Andrew write music, one of your favorite activities. Usually you let him do his thing, not wanting to disturb him, and today is just like any other, until you happen to hear some of the lyrics he’s written, coming to the realization of what he’s thinking while he’s writing about you (set during the writing process of Wasteland, Baby!, specifically the writing of Movement because I am utterly obsessed with that song, and I have been ITCHING to put this idea into words for WEEKS. I apologize for nothing.)

Word count: 2.5k ish, give or take maybe 100 words

You couldn’t help but stare at him as he sat there, guitar in his lap, plucking away at the strings and quietly whispering a few words that came to mind. He writes down the words that stick in a notebook, which he has used beyond the point of disrepair.

There were pages that were practically falling out, filled with songs and poems, some of which were about you, that much you knew, though he had yet to play any of them for you, claiming it “Ruined the surprise” Of getting to show you the new album once it was finished.

His words were barely able to be heard between his low tone and the distance between the two of you. You could tell tough, that whatever he was writing was going well, he had only been working for a few hours, but he had already come up with over half a page of lyrics. Rarely did you see him work this fast, so whatever it was was either something important to him that he felt needed to be said, or it was something that he felt deeply in the moment.

His voice grows slightly louder as he runs back a few lines to go over what he had written, just barely loud enough that I can make out the words.

“When you move

I can recall somethin’ that’s gone from me

When you move

Honey, I’m put in awe of something so flawed and free”

I smile a bit at the words. He’s the kind of person who could so effortlessly put his thoughts into something so poetic and beautiful. You had been listening to his music for years, long before the two of you met, and yet you found yourself in awe of the things his mind was capable of every time.

“So move me, baby,

Shake like the bough of a willow tree

You do it naturally

Move me, baby”

Oh.

“So move me, baby

Like you’ve nothin’ left to prove

And nothin’ to lose

Move me, baby”

Oh.

You’re taken slightly aback by the words falling so effortlessly from his mouth. The way their meaning, bordering on sacrilegious, sounded as if he were praying to the most sacred deity as it dripped like honey from his mouth.

This was a rarity, even as you had moved in with him, being able to see the entirety of his musical process, you never got to hear any of his music before it was finished, unless something really stumped him and he needed your thoughts on it.

Everything about having heard him felt like an invasion of his privacy, and yet the idea of the thoughts that must have been running through his head for hours while he had been writing set your entire body on fire.

It took everything within you not to run over there and jump his bones on the spot if you were being honest.

Watching his hands pick at the strings, his hold on the neck gentle while his fingers moved from chord to chord, you were in complete awe of him. You wondered for a moment if his hands would be so gentle if you were there, in his lap instead of the instrument.

“Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that.” Andrew's almost panicked voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to reality.

You must have looked absolutely dumbfounded, you had to consciously pick your jaw up from where it was, having gone almost completely slack. It took you a moment to find your voice, whispering as you stood from your place on the bed that the two of you shared, “I’m glad I did though.”

You muster up a smile as you make your way over to the chair he had placed himself in early that morning. It was almost too small to house his large frame, his legs were too long to sit comfortably in most chairs, and at times it made you question why he didn't have a higher chair made so that he could sit comfortably in that same corner while he was writing.

Having made your way over to him, you gently take the guitar from his hands, setting it on its usual stand a few feet away, before taking your place on his lap, facing him.

He giggles a little bit at your antics. “Hey, I was using that.” His tone is playful, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose as his hands move to sit comfortably on your back,lifting his shirt that you were wearing just high enough so that he could touch your skin, his hands spanning far enough to reach just below the waistline of the lacy underwear you were wearing, holding you secure on his one leg that you had placed yourself on top of, straddling just above his knee.

“Where’d you come up with the idea for that song anyways?” You rocked yourself gently on his thigh, just once, lightly enough to pass off as you trying to get comfortable, but you both knew that that was not the goal in what you were doing. You could tell by the slightest of smiles, almost a smirk gracing his lips that he knew exactly what you were trying to do.

Looking at you through hooded eyes, almost daring you to keep going, he moved his just slightly lower, moving underneath the lace that served as the only barrier between your core and his clothed thigh. “Ehm… I was just thinking about you,” he paused momentarily, only to move your hips farther up his thigh, closer to him, his face now a mere centimeters from your neck as he continued speaking. “And the idea came to me.”

His voice was steady while doing so, almost taunting, chuckling lightly as he heard the shift in your breathing. He loved watching you go from that confident state, coming over to take what you wanted, to putty in his hands the second he gave you any kind of attention.

There you were, straddling his thigh after having come over with all the confidence in the world, now shaking, practically a mess, already leaving a wet spot on his pants in your wake and he had barely even touched you. It never ceased to amaze you how quickly he could get you so wound up.

You let out a small whimper, barely even audible as he placed a soft kiss underneath your ear. “Oh, my love how sweetly you sing for me.”

His honeyed words were dripping with lust. As your hips began moving, this time of their own accord, against his thigh. You moved ever so slowly, almost shying away from the way your body reacted to him, as if you were embarrassed by how weak you were to his touch but nevertheless, needy for any friction you could create between the two of you.

After a few moments of this, his eye look up to meet yours, and you can feel the blood pooling in your cheeks the more you look into his eyes, realizing what was going on, realizing how you probably looked.

He had the biggest smile on his face looking at you though. All the love and adoration in the world was held in that stare. “You’re doing so good baby”

He uses his hands to guide you through the motions, pressing you down onto his thigh harder in a way that drives you absolutely crazy, a sentiment that is reflected in the way you almost immediately moan his name.

You’re almost positive that your face is beat red and your hips snap back and forth. You’re nothing short of a moaning mess on his lap, his touch melting you into a puddle of the sounds that escape your lips as you increase the pressure applied by your hips.

Any reservations that you had about not wanting to embarrass yourself had thrown themselves out the window. You were so wrapped up with the pooling heat between your legs that you barely even registered Andrew lifting your shirt over your head and carelessly discarding it somewhere across the room before his hands returned to you, this time starting at your breasts, teasing your nipples between his thumb and forefinger on each hand.

“Andrew, please.” The words come out louder than expected, and needier, between gasps and moans, you weren’t even sure if he could understand you through the string of moans and profanities you were all but screaming.

“You look so pretty, darling, all worked up for me.” His voice was low and his eyes were unwavering, moving all over you, unable to settle on a single part of which he longed to see most.

“Your pretty face, mouth open like that just for me.” He met his lips with your just briefly, moving his lips down your cheek, moving to your jaw, all the way to the base of your throat.

“That beautiful voice of yours, all the sounds it makes for me.” He continues his descent, dipping his head between his hands, kissing the valley between your breasts a few times before moving his hands down to your waist moving his face to place a kiss on your right nipple, then your left.

“This body of yours is nothing short of utterly and absolutely breathtaking.” He continues his descent with his hands, while his mouth returns to your neck, leaving kisses and bites and sucking on the sensitive area, leaving not a single inch of the skin he touches unmarked.

Your pace is relentless at this point, your hips snapping back and forth against him with what can only be described as pure, unbridled desperation. The way his hands roam your body, the way your core rubs against him, it’s the only thing you can focus on for longer than maybe half a second.

Your face finds it way to the crook of his neck, biting not so lightly on a spot smack in the middle of the left side of his neck and the gran he lets out is incredible.

His hands have traveled lower by now, his right hand resting in its former spot, encouraging your hips, all the while his right hand has traveled down your front, and is now resting underneath the thin layer of lace, the only article of clothing still on your body, rubbing painstakingly slow circles around the bundle of nerves between your thighs.

It’s all that you can do not to come unraveled right at the first moment of contact. You push your face further into his neck, not sure if you're trying to dampen the sound of your own moans or if you're making an attempt to suffocate in his scent, either way, you’re doing everything you can to hold the last pieces of yourself together.

“Eyes on me, darling.” His fingers are still moving at that agonizing pace, while your hips continue their movements, silently begging him to pick up the pace. You face stays put, buried deeply in the crook of his neck.

“Come on, my love, let me see that pretty face of yours. I’d like to watch myself become your undoing if it's all the same to you.” This time, you obey, Lifting your head out of its hiding place to meet his eyes. “There’s my pretty girl.” He smiles so brightly at you.

You’re eyes are pleading with him at this point, begging for release as he maintains his slow pace.

“Please, Please, Please, Please,” You repeat the word over and over like a chant, a mantra.

A rather breathy chuckle leaves his lips and he places another small kiss on your lips before asking. “What is it you want sweetheart?”

You throw your head back and groan at his antics, knowing he wont give you the release that you so desperately need until you ask for it. “Please, Andrew, you know what I want.”

He lets out a laugh, not anything mean spirited, just playful, you know all too well that not asking directly is going to get you absolutely nowhere, but to save yourself your last shred of dignity before you just come right out and beg, you do always give it one good try.

“Do enlighten me, love, how am I to know what you want if you haven’t asked for it?” His smile is wicked by this point. He knows he always get what he wants out of you. He knows just how to bend you to his every whim.

“God damn it Andrew, please just let me come” you’re visibly shaking by this point, both with frustration and from the effort you’re putting in not to finish without his permission.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” The pace of his hand gradually picks up and your already rather loud moans turn into what borders on screams. You quickly make a mental note to apologize to the neighbors at a later date.

“Three” He begins counting down, again, painfully slow and you feel the ever tightening knot in your abdomen begin to pull so tight it’s almost painful.

“Two” The seconds that it takes him to count down feel like hours, days even, as you do everything you can to prevent that knot from snapping, including screwing your eyes shut, an action that Andrew seems to take personal offense to, based on his tone “Open those pretty little eyes for me or I will start over.” Your eyes shoot open.

“One” you're on your last leg if you're being honest. You need him to say those words, and quickly.

“Come for me, my love.” At his words, you feel all of that pleasure climax and the knot in your abdomen snaps, releasing all of that pressure that’s been building up for however long the two of you have been there.

The world seems to spin, all the while his fingers still slowly circling your clit, making you twitch and squirm, while he whispers in your ear how good you did and how proud he is of you.

By the end of it, you’re completely limp against his chest, panting, twitching and still moaning even though his hands have both moved to the back of your head, smoothing your hair down from its now wild state, sticking to the beads of sweat on your forehead. He kisses your temple a few times and moves you from your position straddling his leg to cradle you in his arms while he waits for you to calm down.

It takes you a few minutes to regain your sanity. “Do you want me to let you go back to writing?” You ask in a whisper, still tucked tightly against his chest.

He laughs at the thought. “Oh no, my love. After that divine scene I just witnessed, no. I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

N E ways,I wrote that all in the span of like 4 hours, everybody clap. I’ll probably post some fluff in a few days, who knows.