Stressful Situations

Stressful Situations

Hello! The fic below the cut was written by the lovely @suueeeeeee ! They messaged me asking if I would be willing to edit and post this for them and after reading this delightful fic I had to say yes!

To the 2 people who requested fics! They are in the works but may take a little longer as I'm leaving for the weekend! Thank you so much for the love and support y'all!!

It was yet another day, another rehearsal and another stressful session of Andrew and the band trying their best to make sure they’re all set for today’s concert.

Ever since (y/n) had started to accompany Andrew on tour, she’s been nothing but a delight in everyone’s eyes. She made sure they all ate, stayed hydrated, and well-rested and genuinely cared for them as if she was their mother.

She sat down on the side watching them with those eyes that said ‘I’m so fucking proud’. She enjoyed every part of this tour, everything about it made her happy. She loved Andrew and therefore watching him do what really makes him happy tickled her insides and made her all giddy.

She noticed how on edge he was today, and how he was taking it out on everyone else. She felt bad for everyone but she bad for him specifically. Poor lad’s been extremely tired and exhausted. Anyone would be the same if they’d been touring nonstop for almost 2 months now, and having to put so much energy into shows every couple of days.

She felt bad for Andrew but also for the band, they were trying their best but for some reason something was messed up every now and then which resulted in Andrew cursing loudly, not at anyone in particular but just out of frustration.

She sighed and got up, heading towards him. She placed a hand on his back, stroking it softly.

“Love, take it easy, don’t stress yourself much, it’ll be okay.”

She says with a soft smile attempting to comfort him and calm him down a little bit. She felt a vein was about to pop in his forehead and he’d get a headache from frowning so much. He looked up at her with a blank expression.

“(Y/n), please. The last thing I need is distractions. Don’t tell me what to do, we have shit to get done.”

He snapped at her and this was the first time within their 9 month relationship that he had done something like this. She was taken back a little. This attitude definitely was weird cause Andrew never behaved this way even in times he was stressed out the most. She gulped and nodded her head, fighting off the tears.

“Yes yes, of course. I apologize, ehm- I’ll just wait in one of the dressing rooms, sorry guys.”

She looks at them with a sad smile and Alex turns to Andrew with the angriest glare.

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

Alex spit at Andrew and slung off his guitar then followed her immediately. They weren’t particularly close but he appreciated her taking care of Andrew and of the whole band. The woman was sweet and kind and it hurt him to see Andrew speak to her that way. He ran after her and he could see her shoulders shaking which confirmed his thoughts that she was crying.

“(Y/n/n), wait.”

He calls for her by her nickname and places a hand on her shoulder. She turns around to look at him with teary eyes and a wet face. She wipes her eyes quickly and sniffs not wanting to seem weak or like a crybaby. He just takes her in for a hug.

“He didn’t mean it, you know he’s crazy about you, but he’s just stressed. It’s not an excuse though. You have every right to be upset just don’t take it to seriously, okay? I’ll kick his ass.”

She pulls back, chuckling a little then nods her head with a sigh.

“I know, Alex. I’m not upset with him, I’m just upset for him. He’s been so exhausted and it’s starting to take a toll on him. I’ll just give him some time. Maybe after tonight’s show he’ll feel a little less stressed.”

Alex blinks at her and wonders how the fuck someone could be this peaceful and kind. Now, Alex was 10x angrier with Andrew for hurting her feelings and he intended to give him a piece of his mind but after tonight’s show. He softly rubs her shoulder.

“Just go get yourself something to drink and don’t think about it much, I’m sure he’ll apologize in no time.”

She nodded and thanked Alex and walks away, but it was obvious she was still upset. He sighed and walked back to the main stage area to find Andrew still strumming the guitar with the same frown except it was now deeper. The tension was too thick and the vibes were really bad unlike how it would normally be. He picked up his guitar again and when Andrew noticed they started rehearsing again.

———————————————————-

One time while performing, Andrew finished his water bottle and he kept on looking around for someone to refill it for him but for some reason everyone was busy with technical difficulties going on so she took it upon herself to get him another water bottle. She didn’t think much of walking on stage as she just wanted to get Andrew his water cause poor thing’s vocal cords must’ve been screaming for help.

When she walked on stage, everyone was confused, including Andrew himself. She handed him the water bottle, took the empty one with a smile. His heart exploded at that moment and he instantly reached out and hugged her which caused her to blush deeply. He was openly hugging her in front of everyone, which was something she wasn’t used to, which also caused the fans to go crazy for that moment. After he let go, she ran backstage, but ever since that moment, (Y/n) made an appearance every concert when handing Andy his water bottle which was always thanked by a side hug.

Andrew was thinking to himself, would she do their ritual tonight even though he was a total ass towards her? He openly admitted to himself that he was mean and rude towards her, but his energy lately had been so low. He’s starting to get exhausted from the constant traveling and performing. Therefore, he decided to get her some flowers and take her out for dinner after they’re done with the show. However, he was upset at the fact that there’ll be no water bottle from her tonight which will get the fans talking and it’ll just create a hassle he’s in no mood for.

Much to his surprise, amidst his performance, he heard loud screams and cheers which confused until he felt someone place a water bottle down on the floor in front of him and he looked and saw his beautiful partner. She looked up at him with a tight smile then walked back. At this point, his heart exploded with so much love for that woman and his love for her grew a million times.

——————————————————-

The show was an absolute success, the vibes were very nice despite everything happening prior to the performance and everyone was happy with how everything came out.

Everyone was putting their things back in place and was making sure they’re all set to retire to their rooms to relax after a long, stressful and emotionally draining day.

Meanwhile, (y/n) was in the tour bus, packing a small backpack to spend the night in a hotel. She kept reminding herself that he never meant it and it was his tired mind talking but she just couldn’t accept the fact that someone spoke to her that way in front of the whole band. Had they been alone, she would have just ignored it, joked about it and teased him until he became less grumpy but the fact that he snapped at her like that, for some, reason felt humiliating.

She walked out of the tour bus when Alex was going in. He saw her bag then frowned.

“Where are you going? It’s late.”

He asked her, feeling genuinely worried. He started thinking the worst. Is she going to leave Andrew? Is she going to fly back to Dublin for a break? She was the one mostly keeping their times fun on this exhausting tour leg and particularly keeping Andrew’s strength to keep going despite the exhaustion.

She sighs, looking away, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m spending the night in the hotel around the corner, Alex. I don’t think I could be around Andrew tonight. I might say something I regret and make things worse.”

“Did you at least let him know?” He knows he can’t change her mind but he also thought this was a good solution cause as chill as they both seemed to be. When they get angry, they’re monsters.

“Well- that’s going to be your job. Don’t you dare tell him where I am, Alex. Just tell him I’m fine. Let me torture him a little.”

She grins evilly and Alex lets out a laugh. That was her typical behavior, managing to make fun and humor out of dark situations.

“Alright, but let me know when you check in and come back first thing in the morning.” He pulls her in for hug then lets her go before watching her walk away.

————————————————————

She got settled in and changed into her night shirt, getting into bed. She decided to scroll down through instagram for a little, seeing that Andrew posted snippets from today’s concert as he does every time. She liked them but it was obvious to her that he wasn’t really in his normal state. She pouted, starting to feel guilty for leaving him when he’s feeling like this. She was supposed to support him through everything and the first time he does something like this, she reacts like this? Then again, he was rude towards her in front of other people. Her mind was racing with thoughts and she was feeling as if she was drowning in this dilemma when she heard knocking at the door.

She curses to herself, knowing it’s probably Andrew, cause Alex couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Deep inside, she was hoping he’d come to her. When she peaked through the door, it indeed was the one and only Andre Hozier-Byrne. She sighs, opening the door and steps to the side, nodding for him to come inside.

He walks in silently and she sees the flowers in his hands. He got her Verbenas, her favorite. He clears his throat and hands them to her.

“Ehm- I got you these.”

Truth be told, he didn’t know what to say, as the situation was awkward and it was the first time they'd dealt with something like this. They both were really chill and peaceful, when they disagree about something they just leave it and agree to disagree without forcing their own views on each other or anything like that. They both always treated each other with respect whether they were alone or with other people. She accepts the flowers, placing them on the bed next to her where she sits as he takes a seat in front of her on the small sofa.

“Love, I’m incredibly sorry. I know what I did was wrong, but I’m just so down, exhausted. I don’t feel the best. I know that this isn’t an excuse and you have every right to be mad, but please, don’t leave me.”

She could hear the desperation in his voice and she looks at him, surprised.

“Andrew, are you insane? Why the fuck would I leave you? Yes, I’m upset. I understand your point, but still upset. For you to apologise and acknowledge your mistake is more than enough. It’d take much much more than this for me to leave you. You’re stuck with me.”

She grins, sitting next him and taking him into her arms. He cuddles against her, resting his head on her chest, enjoying the feeling of her fingers combing through his hair. This was the only thing he needed. To be alone with his beloved after a long day, wrapped around each other.

La Petite Mort

hozier x f!reader

part four of lullabies <3 | part three | masterlist

cw: sex sex sex love making ❤️ no other warnings really, it's pretty gushy

word count: 2.6k

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

Hours later, the buzz of the alcohol had completely fled my system, leaving me with a residual fatigue and a love struck smile. It felt wrong, but simultaneously, nothing had ever felt so right or natural. Like the sense of deja vu that confirms you are exactly where you're supposed to be.

"Hey," he gently shook my arm from where I was sitting in a booth, almost unable to keep my eyes open. "You 'right?"

"Mhm," I grinned, fighting back a yawn. "And how are you, hotshot?"

"Overwhelmed," he huffed, extending his hand to me. He never enjoyed crowds despite their tendency to form around him everywhere he went. "Let's go home."

I let him lead me out, warmth flooding my cheeks at the simple gesture. The bite of the cold was sharper than earlier, my teeth instantly chattering. He, of course noticed immediately, shucking himself of his jacket, draping it over my shoulders.

"Andy," I shook my head trying to fight him off, but it was no use. "Now you're gonna get cold."

"I have at least three layers on at all times, the cold fears me," he joked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Thank you," I pouted at him, overwhelmed at such a small gesture. But it wasn't small to me. Everything Andy did was grand in my eyes. "So chivalrous."

"Well, you know me," he shrugged, stifling a grin of his own.

I started humming the chorus of tonights' song as we walked, unable to remember any of the words other than imagine being loved by me, and the beautiful melody that was sure to hang around for days.

"Don't do that," he laughed with embarrassment, slinging his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.

"Why not? It's a beautiful song, after all," I shrugged, unable to hide my smile that stretched from ear to ear. "And wasn't I the inspiration?" I teased, and it was now his turn to glow red.

"Mhm," he grinned, eyes focused on the road ahead of us. We were nearly back at the car, and the adrenaline was beginning to flood my bloodstream. "That's why you liked it, 'uh?."

"So good," I agreed, walking a bit closer to him that now our arms bumped occasionally. "Did you mean what you said? In the song?"

"'Course I did," he chuckled, unlocking the car and opening my door for me. He even helped me buckle my seatbelt. "Don't worry, it's just a song."

He climbed into his side now, the faintest pink tint to his cheeks, but otherwise, unbothered. I, on the other hand, was trying to get my stupid heart to slow back to normal.

I was fighting the urge to climb over into his lap and beg him to do all the things he'd been imagining. Instead we drove in what would appear to be comfortable silence from an outsiders' perspective. Obviously I didn't know what he was thinking, but I can promise you there was no trace of innocence in my thoughts. The air in the car was thick with desire, leaving me on the verge of choking on the tension.

We exchanged few words on the drive back to his, stealing bashful glances here and there. When the car stilled to a park, I couldn't keep my mouth shut any longer.

"Andrew?" My heart continued to pound in my ears, his brows raising slightly in encouragement. "I want you," I confessed.

He turned to face me and I could see his quickening pulse through the thin skin of his neck. He swallowed thickly, pupils blown so wide I could scarcely see any green.

His gaze flitted between my lips and my eyes, and I'm sure I too was all pupil at this point. I couldn't help myself, leaning over the centre console to feel his lips on mine. My eyes fluttered shut, as did his, and I swear something inside of me had come alive for the first time in my life.

He was better than I had ever imagined.

Lips warm and soft, adding the perfect amount of pressure that made me crave more and more. His hand slipped up the back of my head, cradling its entirety in his palm.

He pulled back slowly, his hand still at the base of my skull. His lips were plump and looked absolutely delicious, my heart aching at the loss of contact.

"I want you, you know that," his voice was lower than before, our faces still close enough that I could feel the tickle of his breath ghosting my lips. "But you just got out of such a long relationship."

"You've treated me better these past few weeks than he did in six years," I reached my hand up to cup his face. His skin was warm and soft, the scratch of his stubble in my palm pulling me back down to Earth, reminding me that this wasn't just another daydream of mine. "Please, kiss me."

And he did, pulling me in as close as the confinement of his car would allow. It felt like coming up for air after holding your breath under water, like the relief you get when a siren finally stops blaring. His scent, his warmth, his gentle breaths exhaled through his nose, mingling with mine as we moved in synchronicity, as if we'd rehearsed this a million times. I'm starting to suspect he must have been having similar dreams of me.

I pulled away this time, giving him my best doe eyes through hooded lids as I suggested, "shall we go inside?"

Without a second thought, Andy was out of the car, opening my door for me. Within moments, our lips were connected again, my arms draped around his neck, his hands quick to grab my waist. He lead me into his house, our mouths moving fast, passion coursing through our veins like electricity. I squealed in surprise when he lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me up the stairs. We were a mess of giggles and laboured breathing, bumping into walls, and desperately grabbing at one another.

Despite the desperation in our actions, he softly laid me onto his bed, crawling in between my thighs before kissing me again. I ran my hands up the sides of his torso, feeling him shudder slightly under my touch.

I could feel his hard on digging into my thigh, and suddenly my clothes were the biggest inconvenience known to man. "Show me, Andy," I breathed in between kisses, his lips now on my neck, my knickers well on their way to being drenched. "All the things you've been wanting to do to me."

He let out a deep, guttural sound somewhere between a strangled moan and a whine. He reluctantly pulled himself from me, slipping his shoes off in two fluid movements. He knelt before me, my entire ankle easily in the grip of his hand. He unbuckled my heels, slipping them off with a kiss to each of my calves. He slowly ran his hands up my legs, planting a trail of kisses upon each inch of skin he touched, the heat in my core beginning to boil.

He looked up through his head of curls, eyes dark and hungry. "You sure you want this, darlin'?"

I nodded desperately, hands instantly finding their way into his hair to bring his lips to mine again. His tongue prodded at my bottom lip and I let him in my mouth without hesitation, allowing him to explore. This only caused my desire for his tongue elsewhere to grow insurmountably.

All of my senses came to life when I felt his hand moving toward my inner thigh, opening my legs wide for him to grant him full access. His fingers made their way to my core, a soft groan fleeting from his lips. "Fuck," he breathed against my lips, slipping a ridiculously long finger inside of me with ease. I moaned into his mouth, one of my hands reaching down to grab his wrist, encouraging him to insert another. He did, curling his fingers with such precision that if I my brain weren't staticky from the feeling, I'd question how many lovers he'd had. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of me, kissing my neck as he did so, eyes glued to my face as if he were memorising every expression he pulled from me.

"Need to feel you," I choked out breathlessly, desperately cupping his face. "Please."

He smiled wickedly, kissing my lips once more before pulling his fingers out, dipping them straight into his mouth. My jaw nearly detached from my face at the gesture, my stomach flipping harder than ever. I watched in awe as he pulled his shirt off, his pants soon to follow, absolutely shocked that the shy, awkward, nerdy Andrew I thought I knew did not exist within these walls. I could see the outline of his cock through his boxers, swallowing hard. How on Earth was that going to fit? I sat up to rid myself of my dress, allowing it to pool around my ankles as he watched on, cock twitching beneath the thin cotton.

I made my way to him, helping him remove the last bit of clothing keeping us apart, eyes nearly bulging out of my head when I saw him. All of him. He may be the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

His hands quickly found my face, reeling me in with those lips once more before laying me on the bed again. His eyes searched mine again for any doubt, not finding any, but something else. "You okay?"

"Yes, just preparing," I laughed, only half joking.

"You're okay, you can take it," he kissed my cheek softly, lining himself up with my entrance. I gasped at the sharp sting of the stretch, holding my breath briefly. He halted all movement, no doubt used to this happening. "Tell me when, baby."

I rested my hands on his shoulders, taking a deep breath before nodding. He slowly slipped the rest of his length in, our beautiful harmonisation of moans filling the air.

It was only painful for a moment before I was practically begging for more. He was as long and thick as you’d expect, but God, nothing could have prepared me. He began to form a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of me while I whined under his touch.

To feel his body weight on mine, his warmth, his scent, his love - I had ascended from my human form. I caved, begging him for more, begging him to fuck me how he wanted to.

He captured my lips with his mid way through a thrust, his cock slamming into that spot that made my brain fuzzy. I dug my nails into his shoulders, gasping into his mouth, “just like that.”

He obliged, one of his hands steadying himself with the headboard, the other cupping the back of my head. I wondered why, until he really found his rhythm.

With each delicious thrust, he would effectively hit my g-spot, making me weak as jelly under him, barely able to form words. My head was hitting his hand with the sheer force of each thrust, and I’m sure the thought of him protecting my skull would make me swoon if I weren’t on the brink of tears, producing noises I didn’t know I was capable of.

“Andy, Andy,” I chanted his name breathlessly, unable to even open my eyes as pleasure cradled my entire being. I’d never heard my voice this desperate ever, to the point that I had no autonomy over my words and vocality, like my soul was speaking without getting confirmation from my brain first. “You- feel- so- good,” I was near crying between each thrust, my mouth completely dry from all the panting.

“You feel good too, darlin’,” he grinned, removing his hand from the bed head and dropping it down to my clit. “So fuckin’ good.”

My jaw went slack, no coherent words falling from my mouth, just rhapsodies of praise in the form of whimpers and laboured breaths.

"Want you to cum for me," he breathed, his thrusts growing sloppy ever so slightly.

"Keep going," I barely got the words out, the coil in my stomach tightening as he dragged me closer to the edge with every word, every thrust, every skilled dance of his fingers over my clit. "Andy," I warned loudly, the high pitch of my tone sounding foreign to my ears, unsure if had even fallen from my tongue. "Oh, my God, I'm gonna-"

Within an instant, I unravelled beneath his touch, moaning a string of curses I couldn't even hear as the static in my mind grew overwhelming. I shook uncontrollably, every muscle of mine growing limp yet tensing and spasming at the same time. My back arched and my toes curled, crescent moon shapes from my fingernails marking his beautiful skin; a reminder to us both of how euphoric he had made me feel. My orgasm rippled through me like waves in a storm, pummelling me over and over as I couldn't stop my eyes from rolling into the back of my head, unable to open them, unable to close my mouth as a slurry of cries dripped from my soul. Unsure of what came over me, I begged, “please cum in me,” wanting nothing more than to feel every ounce of his loving.

When I finally came back down to Earth, the waves crashed into him, the most angelic sounds flooding the four walls we were confined to. Overstimulation wracked my bones, panting into his mouth as he rode out the rest of his high, a clash of tongue and teeth as he kissed me once more. He pumped into me a few more unsteady times, his arms shaking as they struggled to hold his weight any longer.

He pulled out of me slowly, the loss of contact leaving me with a hollow feeling, immediately clinging to him the second his head hit the pillow beside me.

“Andrew,” I breathed in disbelief, titling my head to see the tired smile on his face. “I don’t even have words.”

“Could say the same to you!” He sighed, content with his arm around me, our bodies gently slowing back to normal. “What an angel.”

You are the angel, is what I wanted to say. Instead, I basked in his warmth, his scent flooding my senses as my soul unwillingly reconnected with my body.

“Write a song about this, would ya?” I laughed against his skin, tracing shapes into his chest, feeling like I was the main character in a cheesy rom-com.

“Way ahead of ya, love,” he grinned back, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. “Wanna have a shower? Or is that too much?”

I looked up at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. “Andrew. There’s a chance you just knocked me up. No, showering together is not too much.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he groaned, abruptly rolling out of bed, picking me up bridal style and carrying me to the bathroom. He laughed devilishly at the squeak he elicited from me, kissing my face while I smiled and giggled like a fool.

Fuck.

He towered over me, the beads of water dripping from his hair onto me. He looked beautiful, contented in serenity, similar to how I was feeling, I'm sure. He lathered my body in soapy suds, nothing remotely sexual in the gesture. I did the same for him, enveloped in the warmth of his skin, acclimated to the same temperature of the water. If this were my last moment on Earth, I would die happy. Andrew had a way of making me forget every bad moment of my life. Every poor decision, every tear cried for a man who only thought about himself. Surely, this was too soon to be labelled as love. But it sure felt like it.

"You are so beautiful."

i hope u liked it if u didn't tell me if u did leave requests of something you'd like to see in this next xo and i'm aware of all the run on sentences, i'm sorry if that makes it difficult to read. i will not shut up! even in text

if you say "as one does" after any phrase nobody's allowed to think you're weird anymore. cheat code bypass for all standards of social normalcy

Eye contact.

a continuation of early 20s, awkward college au thoughts

hozier x reader explicit (18+, MDNI) tags: piv sex, unprotected-ish sex, flirting/teasing

born from the following prompts: 1. "Family vacations are a whole lot more awkward when you and I can’t stop staring at each other, and you know that they’re going to catch on if we don’t stop, right? But we don’t, and instead, it just gets worse." 2. "You’re in a swimsuit. I don’t know what to do but stand here and look awkward, because that’s more skin than I thought I’d ever see on you." 3. quote prompt: “You interrupt my reading once more, and this book will become a lethal weapon.”

“Andrew, I swear to Christ, if you interrupt my reading one more time, this book will become a lethal weapon.” You thought you’d found some privacy–a place away from both families on this blended holiday in Barcelona as they chatted in the sitting room. You didn’t believe it was really his intention to seek you out. In fact, you were pretty sure he was here for the same reason you were: to hide.

It had all happened so casually. Both sets of parents stopped for a quick chat after church one day, and before you knew it, you were on a plane with Andrew and his family sitting a few rows ahead on a shared holiday. It made sense as a cost-saving measure, but you also heard your parents murmuring to each other late one night about how you “needed to socialize more,” and maybe it was good to bring Andrew along. You were in a lot of the same college classes, though you’d known each other as neighbors down the road for much longer. What your parents didn’t know was the massive fucking crush you’d harbored for Andrew since your late teens.

When your parents sprung the whole “room sharing” situation that was planned for you and Andrew, you nearly blacked out from embarrassment. Sure, it wasn’t traditional to allow for co-ed sleeping arrangements, but both of you were trusted to not make it an issue. You’d known each other long enough, and you were both adults now. Where was the harm in that?

Andrew threw up his hands at your threat in a silent plea for mercy. “Actually, I was sent to collect you. Everyone wants to head down to the water, if you’re interested.” The warmth of the sun sounded wonderful, and the beach was only steps away from the rental. It was the second day of your holiday, and you had yet to even set foot in the sand. Plus, reading while listening to the sound of crashing waves sounded wonderful. 

You sent Andrew away with a promise that you would follow as soon as you were dressed. There were two swimsuits in your pack–a modest black one-piece that you’d had for a long time, along with a black string bikini you’d bought long ago but never had the opportunity (or courage) to wear. There was a moment of hesitation as you weighed the options before tossing the one-piece back into your luggage. A mischievous little voice in your head whispered that you knew exactly what you were doing as you slipped a too-large, too-long t-shirt over yourself before setting off towards the beach.

“Hey,” Andrew greeted you as you walked up to where he was situated on a towel in the sand, his eyes obscured by black sunglasses. It was probably the least amount of clothing you’d seen him in with a t-shirt and boardshorts that brushed his knees. He gestured to the empty place next to him, and you threw down your own towel before plopping down. An umbrella hung over both of you, casting a shadow that slowly moved with the sun as time went on. While you read, Andrew was laid back with headphones on and his eyes closed as he hummed to whatever it was he was listening to. 

Finally, after a few minutes of panic and talking yourself up in your mind, you finally pulled your t-shirt off under the guise of sunbathing. Andrew was still laid back, still unaware of your movements or your newly bared skin. The sun was catching you both now, and you laid on your stomach before cracking open your book once more. 

Your heart raced when Andrew finally stirred, sitting up to look at you with an unreadable expression, save for the way his eyebrows raised slightly. You did your best to look back at him blankly, though you worried your lower lip with your teeth to keep your bashful smile from breaking through. “What?” you asked innocently, as if you weren’t propped on your elbows in a way that showcased your chest and cleavage (and, could it even be called cleavage at that point?) After a moment’s pause, he finally shook his head and mumbled, “Nothing…” before lying back again. 

Later, back at the rental, you padded into your shared bedroom with bare feet and your t-shirt thrown back over your body. Andrew shuffled closely behind and sat on his bed to watch as you dug through your pack for fresh clothes. Cheekily, you decided to pull your t-shirt off and toss it onto your bed, and you didn’t need to see his face to hear the soft gasp that escaped him. After a moment, he spoke. “You’re doing this on purpose.” 

“Doing what on purpose?” you asked as casually as you could. The bed creaked as he stood, and you turned just in time to see him close the door before he turned to lean back against it. Instead of an answer, he simply smiled and gestured at you, at your body, and you could feel a hot blush bloom across your face. There was little point in being coy now (though it seemed you never really were.)

“And what if I am?” The question hung in the balance, answered only by the way he reached back to turn the lock on the bedroom door. It was you who crossed the room first, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a crashing kiss. Suddenly, you were a flurry of desperate hands and mouths as he walked you back towards his bed.

The feeling of his fingers on the strings of your bottoms made you squeak. He pulled at them slowly until the garment went slack and slipped down to the floor. You were kind enough to reach back and untie the string that ran across your back while he untied the knot at the nape of your neck.

He had you on your back in an instant, and he hovered over you as he pressed kisses along your body. The feeling made you squirm and giggle, and he huffed a laugh against your skin. “Is this okay?” It wouldn’t be the last time he asked you that question, always soft and tentative before you gave your nod of approval. 

As much as you would have loved to experience the feeling of his mouth on you, there was little time before someone would inevitably come looking for either of you. “I don’t have–” he whispered, and you shook your head before panting out, “Birth control.” Perhaps not your smartest decision, but a decision made in the heat of the moment.

You held onto his shoulders as he pressed into you, and soon he was fucking you as quietly as he could between soft kisses and little laughs. You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans when your fingers finally found your clit. Andrew tugged your hand from your mouth to catch you in a kiss instead, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his tongue slid against yours.

“Where?” He asked breathlessly, and it took your sex-addled brain a moment to realize what he meant. You were so close, teetering just on the precipice as the hand on your clit sped up. In your daze, you whispered, “Inside,” and there was something about that simple word—the idea that you were giving him permission to finish inside of you—that sent you reeling and biting down on your hand to keep from crying out. The clench of your orgasm gripped him like a vice, and then he was kissing you to muffle his own groans as the warmth of his release filled you. 

You were still catching your breath when a tentative knock on the door startled you both, then the chipper sound of your father saying, “Dinner will be ready soon!” It seemed they were none the wiser to your activities. You called back an affirmation as Andrew rested his head on your chest while you ran gentle fingers through his hair. 

hi besties, i haven't been well today, so here is a comfort ficlet/musing that i wrote for my own personal comfort lmao

hozier x reader G (general audiences)/SFW tags: hurt/comfort, confessions-ish, a sick lad

born from the following prompt: "You offer to make me tea when I’m sick, and for some reason, I have the urge to kiss you. Deliriously, I ask if I can. We came to an agreement that I can kiss you after I stop sneezing."

Andrew is a giant fucking baby when he’s sick. You know this from several years of friendship, and, subsequently, several years of trading bugs and viruses between each other and your core friend group. 

When he started touring, he was out of commission most days just to keep his voice and his energy in check. Months of traveling to different parts of the world was not kind to his immune system. Now, years later, his immune system has strengthened with time and exposure to just about every bullshit sickness one could contract from an airport terminal. 

He’s home for the moment, stopped over from the midst of an international tour for his third studio album. Ironically, he wasn’t sick when he arrived. You saw him the day after he landed to chat over coffee, and he seemed perfectly fine. Now, not even 48 hours later, he texts you that he’s feeling poorly, followed by a dramatic selfie of him with a (wholly unnecessary) ice pack on his head and a thermometer stuck in his mouth. He genuinely does look exhausted, but you can’t think of a time where he doesn’t look like he needs 16 consecutive hours of sleep.

It’s not like he asks you to come over, but when he mentions that his fever has hit at just about 38 degrees, you’re packing your things and heading out the door. Andrew, God bless his soul, puts far too much trust into you–so much so that he’s actually given you a key in case of emergencies. Sometimes, those emergencies are simply watering his plants, but you appreciate the gesture all the same. 

You open the front door to his country home with grocery bags hanging from your arm. In the distance, you can hear the faint croak of his voice. “Hello?” He sounds awful, and your heart breaks a little bit knowing how miserable he must feel. You call back, “It’s just me!” before setting your things down on the kitchen counter and shuffling back towards his bedroom. 

The bedroom looks more like a cavern–curtains drawn and lights off save for the flicker of a television. The volume is so low you’re not sure how he can hear it, but then you realize that he probably hasn’t been with the way he blinks at you, bleary eyed and face creased from his pillow. He’s got the blankets drawn up to his chin, the rest of him curled beneath it until he’s merely a lump of a man.

When you ask how he’s feeling, he doesn’t respond with an answer. Instead, he rasps, “What are you doing here?” You round his bed to sit on the edge where he’s curled up and place the back of your hand against his forehead. He’s still warm, but he confirms he’s already taken something for his symptoms just a while ago. Ignoring his feeble protests, you head back into the kitchen to warm some soup, then return to him with a glass of water. 

“I don’t want you to get sick.” You wave him off with a shake of head. It’s not like a few days off from work with a flu would do any harm. In fact, there was a part of you that hoped you’d get sick just for the opportunity. When you bring him his soup, he sits up slowly and explains that his muscles ache, but he still tries to shoo you away with the promise that he’d be fine. 

“Do you really want me to go?” you ask, and his hesitation before answering tells you all you need to know. After, when you’re done cleaning up the kitchen and putting things away, Andrew doesn’t protest when you plop down next to him in bed. He’s so stuffy that he can barely breathe. The medication he took earlier is barely helping, and you can see from the corner of your eye as he begins to nod off every now and then. 

“You need to get some sleep, my dear,” you murmur, and he looks up at you with a weary smile. When he answers in defiance, you press a finger to his lips and whisper, “Shhh, shut the fuck up. Go to sleep.” 

It startles you when he replies, “You’re so cute.” Your heart seizes in your chest, and Andrew is heavy-lidded and clearly battling his fatigue as he continues, “Taking such good care of me…I wanna kiss you. Can I kiss you?” 

The nervous laughter that bubbles up from your chest makes him smile, and you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. The warmth of his fever is waning, but he’s still a little too warm for your comfort. “That’s the medication talking, my dear.”

“‘S not,” he says weakly while attempting to stifle a yawn. “Just easier to tell you now.”

 You’re not sure what to make of this. Sure, you’ve had your suspicions that his feelings for you went deeper than friendship. (Andrew has never been, and will probably never be, particularly subtle.) As much as you hope, you know you can’t take anything he says seriously in this condition. In response, you ask, “How about this? You can kiss me after you stop coughing, hm?” 

“That’s fair,” he mumbles as he turns his face into the pillow. It must only be seconds before he’s passed out next to you, and you reach out to tentatively brush stray hair from his face.