#extradirty
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Kiana Khansmith
ojovivo
almost home
Mike Driver
todays bird
Today's Document
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ellievsbear
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Love Begins
Cosmic Funnies
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
pixel skylines
shark vs the universe
Origami Around
Noah Kahan
The Stonewall Inn
seen from Germany
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seen from United Kingdom
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@customerservicedog
Masterlist | Info
• Inbox is open for requests or general chatter. • Find my work on AO3 under the same name.
Long-Forms:
❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱ We'd Become the Flowers ⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀ (Series)
The Harder the Rain, The Sweeter the Sun (Main Fic)
Happily, I'm Unfazed Here (One-Shot Collection)
Short-Stories:
𖦹₊ ⊹ 📖 Uni Life 📖 𖦹₊ ⊹
Part 1 |
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ Hozier Kinktober 2025 ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
Eat Me || Knotty II Kicker
⋆˚🐾˖° Pet Shop ⋆˚🐾˖°
Puppy || Bunny
꩜⋆.°⭑ Assorted ꩜⋆.°⭑
Cheeky
newwwww chapter!
Chapter 17: Your Hand in my Hand
Cheeky || Hozier x Reader
Summary: Andrew feels inspired to try something new after purchasing a cheeky keychain.
Pairing: Hozier x Fem reader
Content: [18+] Smut, Dominant Andrew/Submissive Reader, Degradation, Oral Sex [Cunnilingus], Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Creampie
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: Slowly becoming the Analzier dealer. Enjoy.
Full fic under cut! Or, read on AO3!
I ❤️ your butt
You snicker, rolling your eyes at one of the hundreds of “I ❤️” tchotchkes lining the shelf. It’s a small plastic keychain, one that’ll surely break off the second you put it on your bag.
You nudge Andrew, who is thoroughly engrossed in finding the creepiest looking Beanie Baby in the bin next to you. “Babe, look.”
His eyebrows raise, a grin breaking across his face. “I do,” he jokes, not so subtly reaching a hand over and grabbing your ass. Your eyes widen and you laugh with surprise.
“Andy!”
A smirk is all he offers in return. He takes the keychain from you and holds it in his palm that’s already a resting place for two bags of chips.
“You can’t be serious,” you mutter as he brings his purchases up to the counter. The attendant behind the register couldn’t care less as he scans the offending keychain. Andrew returns to the car swinging his new toy on his finger and whistling.
——
“Yes,” you pant, grabbing Andrew’s hair. “Fuck-right-there!”
Your climax rolls in a heavy wave throughout your body, starting in your core and tingling to the tips of your toes. His tongue laps you in a soft gliding motion, guiding you down from your high. His eyes dart up from their spot between your legs, dangerously dark. You smooth down his hair and give him a lazy-satisfied smile. He nips your thigh.
“Ow!” you giggle, giving Andrew’s back a light kick with your heel. He laughs, the sound vibrating through you, and kisses the wound. He kisses and kisses until he’s found his way back to your pulsing center, licking a stripe. You whimper, sensitive. “Baby.”
His lips trail your seam, his tongue dipping inside you and then retreating. He mouths down, reaching that patch of skin between your opening and your…other opening. You furrow your brow and crane your neck. He grazes the puckered skin of your anus and you make a noise.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
A grunt and a smooth lick is his reply. A shiver runs down your spine, oddly satisfied. He presses a firm kiss to your hole and the sensation makes your embarrassment temporarily disappear. Oh.
“Fuck, Andy, what are you doing?” you gasp, your hands finding their place back on his scalp. You pull your thighs together, framing Andrew’s head, and bite back the needy whimpers leaving your lips. His tongue circles the tight skin, teasing your rear entrance. It feels good.
“Nothin’,” he murmurs into your skin, cheeky as ever. The tip of his tongue slightly breaches your firmly sealed opening and you clench around nothing. His hands glide down from their place on your upper thighs to your asscheeks, thumbs gently pulling the plush skin apart. “Let me in.”
That makes you sit up, putting an end to his nonsense. You untangle your legs from his shoulders with a huff, shimmying until your back meets the headboard. Andrew narrows his eyes and lifts himself up to a kneeling position. Your eyes dart down to the mass between his legs, biting your lip at the way he strains against the fabric of his boxers.
“Color?” he asks, an unreadable expression painting his face.
“Green,” you answer tersely. You fold your arms over your chest and knit your brows. Andrew remains unfazed. He raises his eyebrows, with a “go on” expression. “What was that about?”
He sighs, fixing you with a hard stare. You try to hold your stern expression, but it slowly slips away as he shuffles closer, kneeling between your legs. He leans over, lips ghosting your forehead. His clothed erection presses into your abdomen, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. One hand rests on the head board while his other fumbles around blindly for something on the nightstand. A small clink confirms your suspicions.
Andrew sits back and flips the keychain so its brazen message faces you. I ❤️ your butt.
You squint your eyes, but a giggle fights its way past your lips anyway. He grins.
“You think you’re so funny,” you sigh as he wraps his arms around you, hoisting you into his lap. His warm protrusion meets your sticky core and you roll your hips. He plants his hands on your ass to steady you and leans down for a kiss.
“I mean it,” he grumbles between kisses. Your tongue passes through his lips and draws out a deep groan. His grip tightens on your ass and you grind harder against his lap. “I love this fucking ass.”
A flush colors your cheeks at his bluntness. The pressure from where your groins meet becomes intoxicatingly unbearable. You shift, focusing your movements on the spot that’ll make you unravel once again. Andrew huffs, the stain on his boxers growing larger by the second. When you’re about to reach your peak, he grabs you by the waist and flips you onto your stomach. You let out a petulant whine and try to readjust. A firm hand meets your back and holds you down into the mattress.
“Andrew!” you complain, mostly into the sheets. You squirm under his weight, arching your back and lifting your hips in the process. A low chuckle falls over your ears as you realize you’ve fallen straight into his trap.
“That’s it,” he purrs, his voice thickly patronizing. “Show me that pretty ass.”
Warmth courses through you and pools straight in your core. You bite the sheet, trying to stifle the buzzing in your veins. His hand grazes your ass, thumb catching in the depression between the two halves. At his touch, you lift your hips until you’re on full display to him, head buried in the blanket. It’s better this way. You don’t know if you could face him without melting right now.
A hardness brushes the back of your thigh and his hand finds a place on either side of your hips. His other trails between your cheeks, keeping a steady pressure on your entrance. A thick drop of saliva lands on the taut skin and he rubs it in. His thumb presses hard, slipping in just slightly. You gasp and clench around him. He snorts.
“This is the easy part, sweetheart,” Andrew croons. He spits again and makes it to his first knuckle. You whimper, the stretch of the tight muscle numbing your mind. He sighs as you gently pulse around his finger. “You probably won’t be able to take me.”
You screw up your face and lift your head from the cocoon of bedding, trying to look back at the man who has both audacity and his thumb in your ass. “Yes I can.”
He laughs and shakes his head, which makes you madder.
“Yes, I can!” you mewl, arching higher so his thumb slips down to the second knuckle. Fuck. He does have long fingers but this is already… a lot. A shaky breath rattles through you as you reposition, bracing your weight on your forearms. Yes, you can.
He pulls out his thumb and you frown at the loss of pressure. He rummages around behind you, retrieving the lube stored conveniently in the nightstand drawer. The tell-tale “pop!” of the cap is all the warning you have before he squirts the cool gel. You press your face to the covers, muffling your moans as he spreads it all around. He dips in and out of you with his ring finger.
“How’s that feel, sweet girl?” he murmurs, sliding his finger straight in with little resistance. You squeak. “Good?” He crooks the finger upwards and slowly strokes your inner wall, a cascade of goosebumps flecking your skin. You nod pathetically, trying your hardest to hold back your whimpers.
“Thought so,” Andrew mumbles. His middle finger traces your ring of muscle. Tempting. Taunting. “Think you can take another for me?”
You nod again, desperate for the ache. You can hear the smile in his voice when he says good girl, and his second finger joins his first. The stretch is palpable. Your entrance throbs as he pushes in and out, opening you up around him. The tips of his fingers soar deeper, dragging along your walls and touching depths you never knew you had. A gnawing pressure grows in your stomach, expanding and contracting the further he explores.
“Fuck,” he curses, down to his knuckles. A lewd squelch fills the room as his wrist moves in a gratifying motion, sinking his fingers. “You’re so fucking tight. Need to break you in.”
A moan rips from your throat as his pace picks up. You squirm, itching and fearing for more.
He chuckles. “Two fingers not enough for you, baby?” Smack. He delivers a rough slap to your ass and you lurch forward with a wail. “Hm? You want me to really break you in?”
Your brain turns to slush at his words. You grip the sheets, damp with your drool, to anchor yourself. Andrew’s fingers come to a halt, resting deep inside you. He pauses and waits, your laborious breaths the only sound in the room. After a beat, he tsks and gives you another firm spank.
“Ow!” you cry, your white knuckles holding onto the bedding for dear life.
“I asked you a question, princess,” he replies dismissively. His free hand caresses your stinging asscheek and you wince.
“Please.”
“Please?”
“Please break me in.”
“Break you in where, baby?”
You groan into the sheets, relinquishing your dignity to your desire. “Please break my ass in.”
A devilish grin breaks out on his face. “Of course, sweetheart. Since you asked so nicely.”
Andrew sits back on his knees and you stare straight ahead at the crumpled sheets lining the headboard. The snap of his waistband echoes throughout the room as he removes his fingers. A cap pops. Good. More lube. You wouldn’t be surprised if you used up the whole bottle. A soft warmth replaces his calloused fingers as he massages the gel in with his cockhead. He lets out a quiet groan as he strokes up and down your depression, teasing the tight ring of muscle. He breaches it slightly, sucking in a breath, but you tense up on instinct.
“I’m going to push in,” he explains in a mind-meltingly low tone. He pries apart your cheeks with his free hand, angling the tip of his length against you with his other. “What I need you to do is relax and let me in. Okay?”
“Okay,” you whimper. You breathe in and out slowly, trying to loosen all your muscles. He presses against your entrance, slipping in further than the first time. You fight against the sensation to push him out, biting your knuckle as you engulf the head of him. It’s thick. It’s much wider than his fingers. It stretches you more than you expected. He pauses and retracts, taking a heavy breath. Then he pushes back in.
“Ah!” you squeal, kicking your legs. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. That’s not going to fit. “It’s too big,” you whine. His cock twitches inside you. “It’s not gonna fit.”
“It’s fitting right now, isn’t it, sweet girl?” He slowly pulls back until he’s almost out and then probes back in. Full. So full. So, so, so full. He has to be all the way in. His hand grips your asscheek. “Look at you taking me so well. You’re doing such a good job.”
“Andy,” you practically sob. “I-I-I-”
“What, baby? Does it hurt?” he grits through his teeth, a groan slipping out despite his restraint. “Fuck. You feel amazing.”
“It’s too much,” you complain pitifully. Your entrance throbs around him, sucking him into unexplored depths. A shiver runs through you each time he thrusts, pressing against your walls and delivering an indescribably satisfying sensation. He sets a slow and steady pace, inching his way into you.
“You need to be broken in, sweetheart,” Andrew drawls, lazily tracing his finger over the marks on your ass. You flinch. “I’m sorry it’s so big. You’re being such a good girl.”
His praise makes you preen as he seats himself fully inside. You clench and unclench, huffing out ugly breaths as your body tries to adjust to the absolute shaft stretching you wide open. You squirm, just trying to relieve some pressure, but Andrew lets out a guttural groan. His grasp tightens.
“Are you being needy?” he questions, pulling back slightly. The drag of his cock is heavenly. You put your head to the mattress, feeling drunk off the buzzing running through your limbs.
“No…” you respond shyly. You tense, squeezing him. He chokes out a grunt and spanks you in return. “Andy!”
“Sounds like a needy girl to me,” he mutters, pulling further back until just the tip remains in. He holds it like that for a moment. “Maybe I should pull out. This is clearly too much for you.”
“No!” you wail. You buck your hips, trying to bring him deeper. You sink onto him, relishing the strain. He watches you with hungry eyes, letting you fuck yourself. “I want it. I can take it.”
Andrew strokes the space where your bodies connect. “Yeah? You can take it even though it’s too big?”
You nod with a moan as he prods deeper, his hips meeting your ass. “Yes!”
He leans across your back, towering over your submissive form, and kisses your temple. “You know that I love you, right?” he asks, his breath tickling your baby hairs. You nod, leaning into his lips. He kisses you again. “Good. I’m going to fuck you like I don’t.”
He readjusts his knees, planting his hands firmly on your hips. The first thrust isn’t bad. Hard, but manageable. He groans, working you open as he tugs in and out. His rhythm picks up, the skin of his groin meeting your rear with an obscene smack. The slight sting turns into a constant pressure, your core growing warmer. He takes you on all fours, mercilessly, like an animal. The shiver wracking your body turns into an ecstatic tremble.
He pumps his hips, rough grumbles filling your ears. You climb higher and higher, the tension and stretch driving you wild with bliss. You snake a hand down to stimulate your swollen clit. Just a little more and you’ll fall right over the edge.
Andrew reaches underneath you and yanks your wrist away.
“Baby!” you cry. Smack. You whimper from the impact of his hand.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?”
“Please,” you beg, so close to euphoria. You reach back blindly, feeling for his hand. He allows you to guide his fingers to your apex. “Please.”
He scoffs, his hand rubbing in tandem with his unceasing thrusts. “Is that all you can say?”
Tears brim in your eyes as he utterly sates you. Fluid streams down your inner thigh and you’re too close to worry which end it’s coming from. Hoarse, throaty moans leave Andrew and reverberate through you. You tense and wiggle until you come with a sob, pleasure wracking your body.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck,” he mumbles, his ministrations becoming sloppy and feverish. He grips your ass tightly, pinching the skin fiercely enough to bruise. He pulses and a strangled groan signals the deluge of warmth that floods your channel. You clench, wanting to draw out as much from him as you can. You’re rewarded with another hot spurt.
He pants heavily, his chest pressing against your back as he leans over. He kisses along your traps and up your neck, toying with the thin skin between his teeth. He sucks a mark and nips his way to your lips.
“You haven’t marked me up enough already?” you tease, breathless.
“Never,” Andrew murmurs, biting your bottom lip.
He softens and some of the throbbing pressure abates. He shifts, repositioning you to lay flat on the bed, slipping out in the process. Your entrance contracts around nothing, emptiness a foreign sensation at this point. His essence slowly seeps out and into the crevice between your legs, a strange yet pleasurable feeling. He worries after your flesh, kissing your bruises and massaging your muscles. Your eyelids grow heavy under his gentle care.
“You did such a good job,” he whispers, running a finger along your opening that’s becoming sorer by the moment. He plants a kiss on the soft skin. “Thank you for letting me fuck your beautiful ass.”
“You’re welcome,” you giggle sleepily into the covers. “Only because you love it so much.”
Andrew laughs, his breath tickling. “I even have a keychain for it.”
my daily affirmation as an author
after three and a half months I can finally say...
NEW CHAPTER!!!
Chapter 16: My Lover's the Sunlight
newwww one-shot!
In Love with the Fire
New Christmas-themed one-shot! 🎅
The Kinda Love I've Been Dreaming Of
and if you want some more Christmas-y content...read or re-read chapter 12 of the main fic 🎄
newwww chapter! and it's a good one! ;)
Chapter 15: Raise 'em on Rhythm and Blues
3000 hits on The Harder The Rain The Sweeter The Sun!!! 🥰 So grateful for all the support 🫶
NEWWW CHAPTER (FINALLY!)
Ch. 14: Flesh Calmly Going Cold
newwww one-shot!
Damage Ensued
Omg I love Anissa and Andy’s dynamic so much ur fic is my fav atm. Ur actually such a good writer. Since ur taking requests… maybe a little jealous/possessive sex (either Anissa or Andy as the jealous one)
Just some food for thought🤷♀️
Thank you so much! :') Ask and you shall receive.
I wrote my newest one-shot with this prompt in mind, so thank you for the suggestion! <3 Sorry it took so long.
Read Here: Damaged Ensued
anything can be a slow burn if it takes you forever to upload new chapters
Kicker || Hozier Kinktober (III)
Summary: You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from Andrew's new black boots as he’s stomping on stage. After the show, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from you.
Hozier Kinktober 2025 Masterlist
Pairing: Hozier x Fem reader
Content: [18+] Boot Worship, (very) Dominant Andrew, Submissive Reader, Grinding, Boot Humping/Kissing, Degradation, Dirty Talk
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: Whew. That's all I'm gonna say.
Full fic under cut! Or, read on AO3!
IIIII doooon’t wannaaaaa choose between…
Andrew paces passionately across stage, slamming a tambourine into his chest. His face contorts expressively while he sings, broadcasting the entirety of his soul into the microphone. You bop your head along, tucked in the wings next to stagehands. It’s a festival show, which means he’ll be off stage and in your arms sooner than usual.
He’s wearing a flattering all black number tonight: black shirt, black jacket, black pants. And, new sleek black boots. They draw your attention as he stands on his tip toes and stomps his foot to the beat. How powerfully he slams his foot down, completely lost to the music. How lustrous the expensive leather looks. Like it’d be completely smooth if you ran your tongue over it.
You blush at that last thought, remembering that you’re in public and that Andrew has a show to finish. Now’s not the time to imagine kissing your partner’s shoes, of all things. You scrunch your eyes and shake your head.
A few songs go by, each slower than the last. Your head bop becomes a slow body sway, and you swear Andrew’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You bite your lip, your gaze traveling down his beautiful form, thinking about all that’s hidden under the ridiculous layers of fabric he wears. Your eyes stop at his shoes and a blush creeps on your cheek. You scold yourself internally for your ridiculous fixation. They’re just boots.
Andrew catches your puzzled look and quirks his eyebrow. He subtly follows your gaze to his shoes. You swallow hard, hoping and praying he’s oblivious. He purses his lips and continues with his song, his vision focused back on the audience. Phew.
Then there’s a guitar change. He walks over to the wings, rather than waiting for the stagehand to bring him his instrument.
“You’re gonna like this next one,” he whispers as he brushes past you and returns to the center of the stage.
The loud intro of “Dinner & Diatribes” blares and you’re completely transfixed. Your eyes lock on Andrew’s fingers deftly plucking the guitar strings, but your attention is quickly taken by his… feet. He’s stomping. A lot.
You can’t draw your eyes away from his boots. They pound into the stage as he sings out with more vigor than you’ve ever seen before. Your gaze stays locked on the polished leather, saliva pooling in your mouth. What’s gotten into you? You try to tear your focus away but all you’re met with is Andrew’s sly smile and you are once again melted.
The final bow can’t come soon enough and you’re counting down the seconds as Andrew starts walking off stage. You’re eager for him to get changed into his pajamas so you can just forget about the whole boot thing and have a normal night.
You’re impatient on the way to the hotel, exchanging little small talk and remarks. You anxiously toy with your skirt. Andrew grabs your hand and holds it in his to steady it. When you’re finally alone in the hotel room, he furrows his brow at you.
“What?” you ask, trying to put on a mask of innocence. You’d be mortified to admit anything else.
Andrew strolls over to the chair and plops down, meticulously positioning his feet on the ottoman. You blush and look away.
“Seriously, babe?” he scoffs.
“What!” you gasp, exasperated.
He stands, stalking over to you. You gulp, trying to only look him in the eye. At the last second you sneak a quick glance at his shoes. It doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You like these boots?” he asks, taking your arm in his grasp and leaning into you. His breath ghosts your inner ear and sends a shiver down your spine, cooling your otherwise very hot skin.
You nod, completely embarrassed. “Yes,” you squeak out. “T-they’re nice.”
“Yeah?” Andrew encourages, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. He pauses, looking down at his boots and then back up to you with a dark gaze.
“Why don’t you show me how nice they are?”
You freeze, full of shame and desperation. Surely you can’t kiss his shoes. But, surely, you’ll explode if you don't drop to your knees right now and feel the leather against your lips.
You lower yourself to the floor, maintaining eye contact with Andrew the whole way down. He hangs his head, biting his lip as your face grows closer to his shoe. Your lips brush the smooth material and heat floods your stomach. Looking up at Andrew through your lashes, you press a quick, firm kiss to the toe of his boot, your cheeks burning as you do.
You pull back, afraid to do any more. Andrew sucks in a breath.
“I think you can do better than that, babe,” he chuckles. He nudges your chin with the smooth material. You whimper. “Come on, show me.”
You gingerly stick out your tongue, quickly swiping the top of his boot. It has an earthen flavor with a chemical aftertaste. Clean. Andrew raises an eyebrow, imploring you to go on. You drag your tongue across the toe of his boot and he lets out a strangled growl.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his burning gaze unceasing. You hold his eyes as you lick a long stripe all the way up to his laces. “Fuck,” he grumbles.
You flatten yourself on the floor, gripping his ankles for support while you pepper kisses along his boots. Andrew groans contently, watching with hunger. After a few minutes, he lightly kicks your face away.
“Enough,” he huffs. You look up at him, bewildered. He was enjoying it!
Andrew smirks at your confusion and places his foot firmly on the ground. He points with a long, demanding finger. “Come here.”
“On…the boot?” you ask, your voice as small as you feel. He answers with a hard glare and you crawl over, squatting above his shoe. You hover for a second, your arousal seeping through your panties. If you sat on his boot, you’d dirty it. “I’m gonna ruin it.”
“Good,” Andrew replies, reaching and shoving you down so that the toe of his boot lines up directly with your clit. You squeal, the sensation sending pleasurable shockwaves through you. Gasping, you squirm a bit to get comfortable, unintentionally grinding against him. He sighs. “Atta girl.”
You wrap your arms around his leg for stability and keep your eyes trained on his as you move. The thin fabric of your underpants acts as a weak barrier against the firm leather, and soon you’re writhing on his foot. Lewd, wet noises join the chorus of curses and heavy breaths that fill the room. You lean your forehead against his knee, shutting your eyes as pure ecstasy threatens to take over.
“Fuck, baby—” you stutter out, so close to your peak. Andrew just meets you with a dark grin, thoroughly enjoying watching you lose yourself. The pulsing bulge obscuring part of your view of his face further confirms this.
“Come on, darling,” he coos, lifting his foot slightly off the ground, meeting your ministrations. The toe hits just where you need it to, and you let out an unabashed shout.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble, your mind so far gone. “Oh, oh, oh.”
You grip the scratchy fabric of his pant leg as you ride out your high, the hard material beneath you gratifying and grating. Your chest falls heavily as overstimulation creeps in, but it’s as if your body refuses to stop moving. You cry out, pathetically humping Andrew’s shoe.
He grabs your shoulder and gently hoists you off, but you stumble and land hard on your ass. You giggle with a deep blush, your thighs quivering. Your eyes travel to his boot, the top of it now shiny and stained with you.
Andrew looks down at his dripping shoe and at your shaking state. He grins, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. His gaze softens, but the glimmer in his eye tells you the fun isn’t over yet. He taps his foot on the floor, drawing your attention to it.
“Say thank you,” he commands.
You swallow, trying to ignore the lump in your throat. “Th-thank you,” you mumble.
Andrew tsks and swats your cheek lightly with his boot. “Louder.”
“Thank you,” you say, locking your eyes on his. Your cheeks burn with an exhilarating humiliation. He gives you a devilish smile.
“For?”
“Letting me on your boot,” you choke out. He raises his eyebrows, unsatisfied.
“For letting you fuck yourself on my boot, love,” he chides. He gives you a stern glare. “Say it.”
“Thank you for l-letting me fuck myself on your boot.”
Andrew gives you a big smile and takes your chin in his hand.
“Good girl.”
Knotty || Hozier Kinktober (II)
Summary: You uncover a box full of rope while cleaning out Andrew’s attic. He finds a use for it.
Hozier Kinktober 2025 Masterlist
Pairing: Hozier x Fem reader
Content: [18+] Bondage (Rope), Dominant Andrew, Submissive Reader, Missionary Position, Creampie, Attic Sex
Word Count: 1.5K
A/N: I wrote this while wine-drunk. Enjoy!
Full fic under cut! Or, read on AO3!
“Jesus Christ, were you planning on murdering someone?”
You shake your head as you open yet another unlabeled bin. Within it is an obscene amount of rope, enough for three pirate ships at least.
The two of you had been trying to organize the mess that is Andrew’s attic. Unmarked boxes upon unmarked boxes litter the sprawling space. Until you moved in, he’d never even attempted to go up here. He laughs and meets you to look in the bin.
“I think my uncle gave me that,” he says with a shrug, kneeling to dig around in the box.
“And, did he plan on murdering someone?” you snort. You run your fingers along the rough fiber of the rope and flinch. Ouch.
“I have no idea what he wanted me to do with this,” Andrew chuckles. He pulls out a bundle and starts to unravel it, holding it across his wingspan. He studies it with a determined look and gives it a tug. “Sturdy.”
“Yeah?” you say, moving on to another box. “Sturdy enough to hold a woman against her will?”
“Not against her will,” he mutters.
You freeze, turning to look at Andrew. He stares back at you with a solemn expression and a twinkle in his eye. You swear a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. A flush spreads across your entire body.
You clear your throat, putting on your most neutral face. “Oh really?”
Andrew stands up and walks over, closing the distance between you until the heat of his body warms your own. The rope dangles lazily in one hand as he brings the other up to your jaw. You tilt your head to meet his gaze, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. You bite it.
“Ouch,” he huffs out with a quiet laugh. “That hurt.”
“What are you gonna do about it?” you whisper, biting back your grin. Desire bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, sparks shooting through your veins.
“I don’t know,” Andrew replies. He looks down to his hand and squeezes the rope, tightening his grip. He looks back up with a devilish grin. “Might have to teach you a lesson.”
A palpable tension beats between the two of you, sucking up all the air in the room. You feel hot all over, suddenly desperate for Andrew to do something. Your eyes flit from his strong grasp on the rope to his gaze, meeting his blackened irises. He chews his lip, staring at you with something indistinguishable. Love? Longing? No, something much more carnivorous.
Lust.
You reach up, cupping the back of Andrew’s head, and pull him to your lips. Your mouths meet and exchange a deep kiss, teeth clashing. You suck his bottom lip until it slaps back onto his face with a ridiculous pop.
“So teach me,” you breathe against him.
Andrew’s face lights up with a grin while his eyes remain dark and devouring. He grabs your arms and spins you around so your back is to his chest. He pins your wrists together and starts wrapping the scratchy rope around them. Once he ties off the knot, he gives a pull.
“Tight enough?” he asks. You nod. “Good. I don’t want you slipping out of these.”
“What was that?” you say, turning your head and raising your eyebrows.
“Kneel,” he responds in a stern tone. “So I can tie your ankles.”
You lower yourself so the back of your thighs hit your heels. Your body burns with an ache that can only be quelled by him.
“Good girl,” Andrew mutters. You preen. His hand glides up your back, applying a slight pressure that causes you to lean forward. Your cheek brushes the cool wood floor and your ass sticks up proudly in the air. The floor creaks as he crouches down and ties your ankles, testing their strength until he’s satisfied.
Your heart races as you sit on display, all bound and ready for him. The thrumming between your legs comes to a crescendo when he runs his hands in between your thighs, just missing where you want him.
“Andy,” you whine.
“What, baby?” he responds in a sympathetic tone. “You want me to touch you?”
You nod, cheek scraping against the floor. “Yes.”
“You look so beautiful like this,” he sighs, removing his hand from your body, much to your dismay. “All tied up.”
“All for you,” you groan, desperate. “Please.”
“What’s your safe word?” he asks, slipping his finger between the rope and your wrist to toy with it. A shiver runs down your spine.
“Red to stop,” you croak. “Yellow to calm down.”
“Yes,” he purrs. “And what color are you feeling now?”
“Green!” you practically shout. He laughs and kisses your shoulder blade. “Baby, please.”
“Fine,” he sighs. He flips you onto your back in one swift movement, your legs perched in the air. He smiles down at you with a kindness that contrasts the despicable lust in his gaze. “You’ve suffered enough.”
Andrew leans in for a kiss, the zipper of his jeans ripping through the quiet attic while your tongues lap. His long, slender fingers hook into the waist of your pants, pulling them and your underwear completely off. You glisten in anticipation for him, stickiness coating your inner thighs.
He pushes your knees to your chest, spreading you out completely for him. His breath hitches as his eyes run over you.
“Look at you,” he grunts, pulling his firm, dripping cock out. He drags it through your folds, wetting himself on your desperation. “So ready for me.”
“Yes,” you gasp, barely able to contain excitement.
Andrew presses against you, a delicious sting as the blunt head of him enters you. You try to bring your hand down to cover your moan but all that meets you is a bound wrist. He watches you struggle and chuckles.
“I wanna hear you, love,” he grumbles as he fills you. He pushes your hands back above your head with a sly smirk. Obscene noises leave your lips, the gnawing hunger inside you finally satisfied.
Your chest rises and falls rapidly once he’s fully seated. You clench and unclench around him, adjusting to the stretching fullness he brings. He leans down and ghosts your lips with his. You reach up for a kiss but he pulls away at the last second, kissing your cheek instead.
“Hey!” you complain. He laughs, pressing kisses everywhere on your face except your mouth. “I thought I was done suffering.”
“I’m sorry, babe,” Andrew says, raising his eyebrows in amusement. He lifts a hand and strokes your cheekbone. “It’s just so fun to tease you. But you’re right.”
And then he’s thrusting. Quickly. Passionately. The bins around you shake as you take him, his hips slamming into yours. Your thighs instinctually pull apart to relieve some of the pressure, but the rope around your ankles holds them in place. Moans and curses fill the attic as that familiar pool of heat builds in your abdomen. Sweat beads down Andrew’s forehead, his face scarlet. You briefly worry that the floor will give out and the two of you will end up in a pile of rubble in the bedroom.
You can barely squeak a word out before he presses his thumb against your throbbing clit and pleasure blinds you. The sensation is wildly consuming, just bordering on painful. You tug against the rope, wishing you could bat his hand away. Tightening around him, you only deepen his guttural groans, and swim closer toward the cresting wave of ecstasy. His forehead presses to yours, his breath warming your face.
“Fuck,” he stutters out. He grips your waist in his hands. “I’m so close. Cum for me, babe.”
“Yes!” you cry out as his ministrations to your heat become overpowering. Goosebumps ravage your skin as an orgasm rips through you with no warning. You squeal, your feet attempting to wrap together despite their binds. “Fuck!”
“Shit, g-good girl,” Andrew groans, his thrusts becoming sloppier. He lets out a shout and you feel warmth spurt inside you as your walls contract around him. He shuts his eyes and rests his head on your shoulder, riding out the rest of his release.
You stay intertwined as the two of you come down from your highs. Your wrist and ankles burn, the itchy rope cutting into your skin in a very unsexy way, despite the eroticism. Finally, Andrew pulls away from you with a weak groan. His essence drips out of you, staining the floor.
“Shit,” he huffs. Your eyes meet and you both smile. “We should’ve put a towel down.”
“Untie me?” you ask, sticking out your wrists and ankles.
Andrew bites his lip, dragging his hand sensually down your leg, toying with the rope near your feet. He narrows his eyes.
“I don’t know, babe,” he sighs with fake disappointment. “I kinda like you like this.”
You roll your eyes and start squirming to find slack in his knots. He laughs, pulling at the rope until it’s loose enough to slip off.
“Well,” you start, rubbing your now free wrists. Andrew reaches over and massages them with his thumbs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I guess the rope was useful after all.”
“Is useful,” Andrew corrects. Your gazes connect. He smirks and wraps the rope back into a bundle, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ Hozier Kinktober 2025 ☾₊‧⁺˖
I. Aphrodisiacs/Outdoor Sex 🫐: Eat Me
II. Bondage/Rope 🪢: Knotty
III. Boot Worship/Degradation 🥾: Kicker
Eat Me || Hozier Kinktober (I)
Summary: You and Andrew find an interesting berry bush during your walk in the woods. They make you feel…strange.
Hozier Kinktober 2025 Masterlist
Pairing: Hozier x Fem reader
Content: [18+] Outdoor Sex, Forest Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Penis-in-Vagina Sex, Doggy Style
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: Hozier Kinktober! I cannot promise that I will upload anything else as I have So Much Real Life Stuff going on right now. But, enjoy!
Full fic under cut! Or, read on AO3!
Twigs and leaves crunch beneath your feet as you make your way down the somewhat overgrown footpath. Your hand is enclosed in Andrew’s, causing your arm to swing and feet to move quickly. It’s always a struggle keeping up with the gentle giant that he is.
The sunlight dwindles. You two decided on a stroll in the woods behind Andrew’s home while dinner simmered. This isn’t uncommon; almost every day, you wander through the sprawling Irish forest, Andrew pointing out all the vegetation and birds you don’t know.
Today, though, something seems different.
You’ve ventured farther than usual. Maybe Andrew took a different turn? You hadn’t really been paying attention. It’s so beautiful out and you’re more focused on keeping his pace and not tripping over yourself. Andrew mutters different plants as you pass them until he stops suddenly at a berry bush.
“Huh,” he says, furrowing his brow. “Never seen these before.”
It’s a standard berry bush. It looks like raspberries, maybe even early blackberries.
“Raspberries?” you offer, reaching out to touch the branches. Prickly. Definitely raspberries.
“Weird,” Andrew murmurs. He plucks one and observes it in his palm, squishing it between his pointer finger and thumb. It smells like raspberry. It even has those annoying seeds that require you to floss for an extra ten minutes.
“Should we try them?” you joke, taking a few.
Andrew raises an eyebrow. “Should we try random berries in the woods?”
“They’re literally raspberries, babe,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. You pop one in your mouth and his eyes widen. Sweet and bitter. Raspberries. “They pass the taste test and everything,” you add, eating a few more.
He grumbles as you hold one up to his lips and begrudgingly opens, squishing the red berry in his mouth. His face contorts slightly and you laugh.
“Drama queen.”
“You won’t be saying that when we’re passed out and convulsing on the forest floor in two minutes,” Andrew chides, eating another one. “These are good, though.”
“If we die, at least we die together,” you grin, and take his hand back in yours to continue the walk.
You start to head back. The chicken should be fully cooked by now. Andrew’s hand feels warm and strong in yours. His cologne seems stronger somehow, as if it’s all you can smell. Maybe it’s just the trees. His scent is pretty woodsy.
But it’s intoxicating. And his grip is firm. You run your thumb over the veins on the back of his hand, biting your lip. Andrew looks down, confused. You swear there’s a flush on his cheeks and a glint in his eye.
You continue walking, trying to focus on the ground and the birds and the plants and not the very tall and handsome man next to you. Has he always looked this good? His hair pulled back lazily, strands framing his chiseled face, and his body wrapped perfectly in one of his many brown jackets. Maybe you were just too hungry earlier to care. The berries boosted your blood sugar and cleared your head. That must be it.
And, God, did it get hotter? Irish weather can be unpredictable but it’s autumn, late autumn at that—you’ve already pulled out all your winter clothes. You pull at your sweater, a color creeping onto your cheeks. You look up to Andrew and see him staring right back at you. You both stop.
“Ehm, I feel hot,” he blushes.
“Me too,” you admit.
You stand there, hand in hand, gazing at each other’s strange forms. He looks really good. Did he do something different with his shaving this morning? You want to touch his beard. You do.
“I like this,” you whisper, running your hands through the prickly hair. It sculpts him. He’s a work of art.
His hands find a place on your hips as the distance between you closes. “I like this,” he says, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.
“What? I didn’t do anything special today.”
“I know you didn’t,” he chuckles. His toothy grin sends more warmth rushing through you. “I meant I like you. Your face. You’re so beautiful, baby.”
You giggle and look down, realizing the forest floor is wider. You look back up and around. Huh. You’re in a clearing. Andrew seems to notice too and a puzzled expression paints his face.
“I don’t remember there being a clearing this big,” he hums.
“I think we took a different path today,” you say. Sunlight streams down, creating a majestic glow around you. There’s some fallen logs that would make perfect benches. You notice, strangely, that the overgrowth is beaten back. It really is clear.
Andrew frowns and pulls you over to a log to sit. “Are we lost?”
“Maybe.”
You both laugh, which causes you to lean into his chest. He holds you there and you hear his heartbeat. Steady. His scent still floods your nostrils, driving you a little crazy. It must be the woods making it stronger. He smells so good. You just want to tear off all his clothes and lick his skin.
“Whoa,” you mutter. Andrew shoots you a glance. He’s beet red. Maybe he had the same thought as you.
“What?” he coughs. His pupils are dilated. And, sitting here on this log, you become acutely aware of a stickiness between your legs.
“I’m horny,” you blurt out with a laugh. Andrew smiles and shakes his head, that glimmer brighter than ever in his eye.
“Yeah?” he grins. He clears his throat and looks around. “I think I am too.”
You look at his lap, the fabric of his slacks protruding slightly. “I think you are too.”
It’s quiet. A gentle breeze rustles the trees. A bird sings on a branch. An animal crashes through the undergrowth somewhere. But it’s quiet. There’s no one else around.
Andrew seems to draw the same conclusion as his arm travels to your waist.
“It’s just us, love,” he mumbles against your ear. You squirm a bit.
“I guess it is.”
“What should we do about that, then?”
You meet his dark eyes with your own. He winks.
You stand, resting your hands on his shoulders. “I think we should relieve ourselves.”
He rises, making you feel small once again. Has he always felt this big? He grasps your waist and pulls you against him, smashing your lips together for a desperate kiss. You pant as you try to devour him, his tongue darting in and out of your mouth. His large hands travel all over your body, gripping and squeezing anywhere he can. God, you need him so bad. You reciprocate the gesture by rubbing him through his slacks. After a while he pulls away and smacks your ass.
“Ouch!” you giggle. You lean over slightly from the sting and Andrew sets a firm hand on your back, pushing you until you're entirely bent over a log.
“Andrew!” you squeal, your head spinning and your mind only focused on one thing: his cock inside you. You shimmy until you’re comfortable and feel him kneel behind you.
“Is this okay, love?” he asks in a daze. “I need you, so badly.”
“I need you more,” you moan in response. “Please.”
“Please, what?” he huffs. You hear a belt clink and feel your pants brought down to you mid-thigh, your panties with them.
“Please, fuck me,” you whine, pushing your hips back onto him. A stiff warmness greets your entrance and you sigh, contentment settling over you.
Andrew drags his tip through your folds, lubing himself on your essence. So wet, you hear him mutter under his breath as he strokes himself against you. He hits your clit and you mewl, so pent up and aching for stimulation. You’ve no idea what’s come over you; all you know is that you need him inside you. Now.
Andrew mouths at your neck, planting sloppy kisses all over. Suddenly there’s a pressure between your legs, and then relief. He pushes in, gentle, like always, despite the urgency. You groan, arching into him and his hands stroke your hips.
“Feeling good?” he grunts. He bites your earlobe. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”
You whimper and nod, so full and satiated. You forget all about the dinner at home. All that you hunger for is him. And here he is. Stuffing you.
Andrew begins thrusting in and out, slow at first. A dull thumping pattern echoes through the silent woods, your shouts of ecstasy following. You lean further over the log, not caring about bugs or dirt or anything. You just want the angle that’ll make you scream.
And it works. He hits that special place over and over again, your butt and his hips practically fused together as he ruts into you. Curses and heavy breaths fill your ears while profanities and pants leave your mouth. Fuck, does it sure feel good. It feels like everything you’ve ever needed.
You reach a hand down to stimulate yourself as Andrew heaves, nearing his peak.
“So close, babe,” he groans. His own hand snakes around yours, intensifying the sensation and whiting your vision. You squeeze your eyes shut and tremble. “Look, love.”
He points to the scarlet sunset peeking through the trees. You gaze at the stunning display as that familiar shiver runs down your spine and your pleasure crests with a throaty moan. Andrew soon follows, spilling into you with powerful throbs.
“Fuck,” you sigh, resting your head on the log. He wraps his arms around you and lays his head on your back. Your shared essence runs down your thigh, coating it with a troublesome stickiness.
The woods grow dark and eventually you two stumble on home. It’s a short walk, as if the clearing was right as the path began. But you know better. Andrew turns around once you reach the porch and retraces your steps, just to check. He comes back, shaking his head.
“What?” you ask.
“Those were some weird fuckin’ berries.”
